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diff --git a/48984.txt b/48984.txt deleted file mode 100644 index eed767f..0000000 --- a/48984.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,19487 +0,0 @@ - THE HEART LINE - - - - -This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at -http://www.gutenberg.org/license. If you are not located in the United -States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you are -located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Heart Line - A Drama of San Francisco -Author: Gelett Burgess -Release Date: May 17, 2015 [EBook #48984] -Language: English -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEART LINE *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines. - - - - -[Illustration: Cover art] - - - - -[Illustration: He took her hand, testing its quality and texture Page -52] - - - - - *THE HEART LINE* - - _A DRAMA OF SAN FRANCISCO_ - - - _By_ - - GELETT BURGESS - - Author of - The White Cat, Vivette - A Little Sister of Destiny, etc. - - - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY - - LESTER RALPH - - - - NEW YORK - GROSSET & DUNLAP - PUBLISHERS - - - - - COPYRIGHT 1907 - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY - - OCTOBER - - - - - TO MAYSIE - WHO KNEW THE PEOPLE - AND - LOVED THE PLACE - - IN MEMORY OF - THE CITY THAT WAS - - - - - *CONTENTS* - -CHAPTER - -Prologue - -I The Palmist and Fancy Gray -II Tuition and Intuition -III The Spider's Nest -IV The Paysons -V The Rise and Fall of Gay P. Summer -VI Side Lights -VII The Weaving of the Web -VIII Illumination -IX Coming On -X A Look Into the Mirror -XI The First Turning to the Left -XII The First Turning to the Right -XIII The Bloodsucker -XIV The Fore-Honeymoon -XV The Re-Entrant Angle -XVI Tit for Tat -XVII The Materializing Seance -XVIII A Return to Instinct -XIX Fancy Gray Accepts -XX Masterson's Manoeuvers -XXI The Sunrise - -Epilogue - - - - - *THE HEART LINE* - - - - *PROLOGUE* - - -In the year 1877 the Siskiyou House, originally a third-class hotel -patronized chiefly by mining men, had fallen into such disrepute that it -was scarcely more than a cheap tenement. Its office was now frankly a -bar-room; beside it, a narrow hallway plunged into the shabby, shadowy -interior; here a steep stairway rose. Above were disconsolate rooms -known to the police of San Francisco as the occasional resort of -counterfeiters, confidence workers and lesser knaves; to the -neighborhood the Siskiyou Hotel had a local reputation as being the home -of Madam Grant, who occupied two rooms on the second floor. - -Her rooms were slovenly and squalid--almost barbarous in the extremity -of their neglect. Upon the floor was a matted carpet of dirt and -rubbish inches deep, piled higher at the corners, uneven with lumps of -refuse, bizarre with scraps of paper, cloth and tangled strings. - -In the rear room an unclean length of burlap was stretched across a -string, half concealing a disordered, ramshackle cot, whose coverings -were ragged, soiled and moth-eaten. A broken chair or two leaned -crazily against the wall. The dusty windows looked point-blank upon the -damp wall of an abutting wooden house. There had once been paper upon -the walls; it was now torn, scratched and rubbed by grimy shoulders into -a harlequin pattern of dun and greasy tones. - -The front room, through the open rolling doors, was, if possible, in a -still worse state of decay, and here wooden and paper boxes, tin cans, -sacks of rags (doing service for cushions), a three-legged table and a -smoked, rusty oil-stove, with its complement of unclean pots and dishes, -showed the place, abominable as was its aspect, to be a human abode. A -print or two, torn from some newspaper or magazine, was pinned to the -wall in protest against the sordidness of the interior. The place gave -forth a fetid and moldy smell. The air was damp, though the sun -struggled in through cracked panes, half lighting the apartment. - -There was, however, one piece of furniture, glossily, splendidly new, -incongruously set amidst the disorder--an oak bookcase, its shelves well -filled with volumes. Seated upon a cracker box in front of its open -doors, this afternoon, a boy of eight years sat reading with rapt -excitement the story of _Gulliver's Travels_. - -He, too, seemed strangely set in that environment, for he was clean and -sweet in person and dress. His hair was black and waving, his eyes deep -blue, clear and shrewd. His cheeks were pink and gently dimpled, his -mouth ample, firm and well-cut, over a square, deeply cleft chin. He -was patently a handsome child, virile, graceful, determined in his pose. -His natural charm was made more picturesque by a blue flannel suit, with -white collar, cuffs and stockings. Oblivious to his extraordinary -surroundings, he read on until he had finished the book. - -He rose then, yawned and walked to the window in the front room to look -out upon the street. Opposite was a row of low buildings--a stable, a -Chinese laundry, two dreary rooming-houses and a saloon. The roof-line -of the block, where the false wooden fronts, met the sky, held his gaze -for a few moments. A horse-car lumbered lazily past, and his eyes fell -to the cobble-paved thoroughfare and its passers-by. To the left, -Market Street roared bustling a block away and the throngs swept up and -down. To the right, a little passage starting from two saloons, one on -each corner of the street, penetrated the slums. The warm, mellow -California sunlight bathed the whole scene, picking out, here and there, -high lights on window-glass that shot forth blinding sparks and flashes. - -The boy yawned again, his hands in his pockets, then turned to the sooty -oil stove and peered rather disgustedly amongst the frying-pans, tins -and pasteboard boxes. There was nothing in the way of food to be found. -He sniffed fastidiously at the corrupt odor of cooking, then knelt upon -the floor and began a search, crawling gingerly on hands and knees. The -ends of three matches projected slightly above the surface of the matted -layers of rubbish. Here he scraped the dirt away with a case-knife and -came upon a little paper-wrapped parcel which, opened, disclosed three -bright twenty-five-cent pieces. He wrapped them up again, tucked them -into the hole in the dirt and went on with his quest. - -His next find, a foot or so from the base-board of the double doors, was -a _cache_ containing a pearl-handled pen-knife. He put it back. Here -and there in the subsoil he came upon other treasure trove, each article -carefully wrapped in paper or bits of rag--a jet ear-ring, a folded -calendar, a silver chain, two watches, a dozen screw-eyes, several -five-dollar gold pieces, a roll of corset laces. He returned them one -by one as he found them, and smoothed the dirt over the place. - -He had nearly exhausted the field in the front room, when he came upon a -small paper bag containing a few macaroons. These he sat down to eat, -first brushing off feathery bits of green mold. He discovered another -bag containing peanuts. He chewed them slowly, throwing the shells upon -the floor, his eyes wandering, his air abstracted. - -Leading off the front room was a smaller one whose door was shut. He -opened it now, and went in somewhat fearfully. Here was another cot -drawn up in front of the window, and, upon nails driven in the wall, -women's hats and dresses. Upon the inside of the door was pinned a -stained, yellowing newspaper cut--the portrait of a man perhaps thirty -years old, with mustache and side-whiskers and a wide flowing collar. -Beneath it was printed the name, "Oliver Payson." The boy gazed at it -curiously for some moments. - -From this, he turned to a corner where stood an old trunk covered with -cowhide whose hair was rubbed off in mangy spots. Corroded brass-headed -nails held a rotting, pinked flap of red leather about the edge of the -cover. On the top of the trunk, also in brass-headed nails, were the -letters "F.G." - -He stooped over and tried the lid. The trunk was locked. He lifted it, -testing its weight, and found it too heavy to be budged. He rubbed the -hair with his hand, played with the handles and fingered the lock -longingly; then, after a last look, he left the room and closed the -door. - -He had gone back to the bookcase and taken down a volume of Montaigne's -_Essays_, when he heard a knock on the door of the back room leading -into the hallway. He unlocked the door, opened it a few inches and -stood guarding the entrance. - -A woman of middle age in a black bonnet, shawl and gown attempted to -pass him. He stood stiffly in her way, regarding her harsh, sour -visage, thin, cruel lips and pale, humid, bluish eyes. At his resolute -defense her attitude weakened. - -"Ain't Madam Grant to home?" she said. - -"No, she is not. What do you want?" - -"Oh, I just wanted to see her; you let me come in and wait a -while--she'll be back soon, I s'pose?" - -"She doesn't allow me to let anybody in when she's away," the boy -protested. - -"Oh, that's all right, Frankie; I'm a particular friend of hers. I'll -just come in and make myself to home till she comes in. I'm all winded -comin' up them steep stairs, and I've got to set down." - -"I'm sorry," the boy said more politely, "but I mustn't let you in. I -did let a lady in once, and Mamsy scolded me for it. The next day we -missed a watch, too." - -"My sakes! Does she keep her watches in the dirt on the floor, too?" -the woman said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "You needn't worry -about me, my dear; everybody knows me, and trusts me, too. Besides, my -business is important and I've just _got_ to see the Madam, sure." - -"You may wait on the stairs, if you like, but you can't come in here. -She says that the neighbors are altogether too curious." The remark was -made deliberately, as if to aid his defense by its rudeness. But the -woman's skin was tough. - -"You're a pert one, you be!" she sniffed. "I'd like to know what you do -here all day, anyway. You ought to be to school! We'll have to look -after you, young man; they's societies that makes a business of seeing -to children that's neglected like you, and takes 'em away where they can -be taught an education and live decent." - -The boy's face changed to dismay. The tears came into his eyes. "I -don't _want_ to go away, I want to live here, and I'm going to, too! -Besides, I can read and write already, and I learn more things than you -can learn at school. I'd just like to see them take me away!" - -"What do you learn, now?" said the woman insinuatingly. "Do you learn -how to tell fortunes? Can you tell mine, now? I'll give you a nickel -if you will!" - -"I don't want a nickel. I've got all the money I want!" - -"Oh, you have, have you? How much have you got? Say, I hear the -Madam's pretty well fixed. How much do you s'pose she's worth, now?" - -"You can't work me that way." - -She put forth a shaky hand to stroke his dark hair, and he warded her -off. "Nor that way either!" he said, beginning to grow angry. - -"Say, sonny, do you ever see the spirits here?" she began again. - -"No, but I can smell 'em now," he replied. - -She burst out into a cackle of laughter. "Say, that's pretty good! -You're a likely little feller, you be. I didn't mean no harm, noways." - -"You mean that you didn't mean any harm, don't you?" he asked soberly. - -"No, I don't mean no harm, sure I don't! What d'you mean?" - -"She says one shouldn't use double negatives." - -"What's them, then?" - -"I mean you don't use good English," said the boy. - -"I don't talk English? What do I talk then--Dutch? What's the matter -with you?" - -"Oh, I'm just studying grammar, that's all. Now you see I don't need to -go to school, the way you said. Mamsy teaches me every night." - -"Oh, she does, does she? Well, well! I hear she has a fine education; -some say she's went to college, even." - -"Yes, she has. She went to a woman's college in the East, once." - -"Then what's she living in this pigsty for, I'd like to know! It beats -all, this room does. Let me come in for a moment and just look round a -bit, will you? I won't touch nothing at all, sure." - -The boy protested, and it might have come to a physical struggle had not -footsteps been heard coming up the narrow stairway. The visitor peered -over the railing of the balusters. - -"That's her!" she whispered hoarsely. - -A head, rising, looked between the balusters, like a wild animal gazing -through the bars of its cage. It was the head of a woman of twenty-seven -or eight, and though her face had a strange, wild expression, with -staring eyes, she was, or had undoubtedly been, a lady. Her hair, -prematurely gray, was parted in the center and brought down in waves -over her ears. Her eyebrows, in vivid contrast, were black; and between -them a single vertical line cleft her forehead. What might have been a -rare beauty was now distorted into something fantastic and mysterious, -though when at rare intervals she smiled, a veil seemed to be drawn -aside and she became an engaging, familiar, warm-hearted woman. She was -dressed in a brilliant red gown and dolman of mosaic cloth with a -Tyrolean hat of the period. Such striking color was, thirty years ago, -uncommon upon the streets, but, even had it been more usual, the -severity of her costume with neither a bustle nor the elaborate ruffles -and trimmings then in vogue, would have made her conspicuous. - -She came up, with a white face, gasping for breath after her climb, one -hand to her heart. For a moment she seemed unable to speak. Then -suddenly and sharply she said: - -"Francis, shut the door!" - -The boy obeyed, coming out into the hall, with a hand still holding the -knob. - -"The lady wanted me to let her in, but I wouldn't do it, Mamsy," he -said. - -Madam Grant turned her eyes upon the apologetic, cringing figure, whose -thin, skinny fingers plucked at her shawl. - -"I just called neighborly like, thinkin' maybe you'd give me a settin', -Madam Grant," she said. - -Madam Grant had come nearer, now, and stood gazing at her visitor. The -expression of scorn had faded from her face, her eyes glazed. She spoke -slowly in a deliberate monotone. - -"Your name is Margaret Riley." - -The woman nodded. Her lips had fallen open, and her eyes were fixed in -awe. - -"Who are the three men I see beside you?" demanded Madam Grant. - -"They was only two! I swear to God they was only two!" - -"There is a little child, too." - -"For the love of Heaven!" Mrs. Riley moaned. "Send 'em away, send 'em -away, tell 'em to leave me be!" - -Madam Grant's eyes brightened a little, and her color returned. - -"Come in the room and I will see what I can do for you." - -The three entered, Mrs. Riley, half terrified but curious, darting her -eyes about the apartment, sniffing at the foul odor, her furtive glances -returning ever to the mad woman. Francis went to the bookcase and -resumed his reading without manifesting further interest in the visitor. -Madam Grant seated herself upon a wooden box covered with sacking and -untied the strings of her hat. - -"What do you want to know?" she asked sharply. - -"I got three tickets in the lottery, and I want to know which one to -keep," Mrs. Riley ventured, somewhat shamefaced. - -Madam Grant gave a fierce gesture, and the line between her brows grew -deeper. "I'll answer such questions for nobody! That's the devil's -work, not mine. How did your three husbands die, Margaret Riley?" - -The woman held up her hands in protest. "Two, only two!" she cried; -"and they died in their beds regular enough. God knows I wore my -fingers out for 'em, too!" - -"They died suddenly," Madam Grant replied impassively. "Who's the other -one with the smooth face--the one who limps?" - -Mrs. Riley coughed into her hands nervously. "It might be my brother." - -"It is not your brother. You know who it is, Mrs. Riley; and he tells -me that you must give back the papers." - -"Oh, I'll give 'em back; I was always meanin' to give 'em back, God -knows I was! I'll do it this week." - -"In a week it will be too late." - -"I'll do it to-morrow." - -"You'll do it to-day, Mrs. Riley." - -"I will, oh, I will!" - -"Now, if you want a sitting, I'll give you one," Madam Grant continued. -"That is, if I can get Weenie. I can't promise anything. She comes and -she goes like the sun in spring." - -"Never mind," said Mrs. Riley, rising abruptly. "I think I'll be going, -after all." She started toward the door. - -The clairvoyant's face had set again in a vacant, far-away expression -and her voice fell to the same dead tone she had used before. She -clutched her throat suddenly. - -"He's in the water--he's drowning--he's passing out now--he's gone! You -are responsible, you! you! You drove him to it with your false tongue -and your crafty hands. But you'll regret it. You'll pay for it in -misery and pain, Margaret Riley. Your old age will be miserable. -You'll escape shame to suffer torment!" - -Mrs. Riley's face, haggard and terrified, was working convulsively. -Without taking her eyes from the medium, she ran into the front room and -shook the boy's shoulder. - -"Wake her up, Frankie, I don't want no more of this! Wake her up, dear, -and let me go!" - -Francis arose lazily and walked over to Madam Grant. He put his arm -tenderly about her and whispered in her ear. - -"Come back, Mamsy dear! Come back, Mamsy, I want you!" He began -stroking her hands firmly. - -Mrs. Riley, still gazing, fascinated, at the group, backed out of the -room and closed the door. Her steps were heard stumbling down the -stairs. Madam Grant's eyes quivered and opened slowly. She shuddered, -then shook the blood back into her thin, white hands. Finally she -looked up at Francis and smiled. "All right, dear!" - -Her smile, however, lasted but for the few moments during which he -caressed her; then the veil fell upon her countenance, and her eyes grew -strange and hard. She gazed wildly here and there about the room. - -"What's that in Boston?" she asked suddenly, the pitch of her voice -sharply raised, as she pointed to the shells upon the rubbish of the -floor. - -"Only some peanuts I was eating, Mamsy," said the boy, guiltily watching -her. - -"Somebody has been in Toledo, somebody has been in New York! I can see -the smoke of the trains!" Her eyes traveled around an invisible path, -from mound to mound of dirt and scraps, noticing the slight -displacements the boy had made in his quest for food. He watched her -sharply, but without fear. - -"Oh, the train didn't stop, Mamsy; they were express trains, you know." - -"Don't tell me, don't tell me!" - -She pointed with her slender forefinger here and there. "New Orleans is -safe; New Orleans is always a safe, strait-laced old town; but the place -isn't what it was! They've left the French quarter now to the Creoles, -but I know a place on Royal Street where the gallery whispers--O God! -that gallery with the magnolia trees--and the leper girl across the -street in the end room!" Her voice had sunk to a harsh whisper; now it -rose again. "Chicago--all right. I wouldn't care if it weren't. -Baltimore--_he_ never was in Baltimore. But what's the matter with -Denver? Somebody's been to Denver!" She turned her gaze point-blank -upon Francis. - -He met it fairly. - -"Oh, no, Mamsy, nobody ever goes to Denver, Mamsy dear!" - -She knelt down and groped tentatively, sensitively, across the layer of -dust that sloped toward the corner, by the bay-window. She turned, -still on all-fours, to shake her finger at him, and say solemnly: "Don't -ever go to Denver, Francis! Denver's a bad place, a very wicked place. -They gamble in Denver, they gamble yellow money away." She arose, -apparently either satisfied or diverted in her quest, to turn her back -to the boy and look inside the bag she had been holding. - -"Go outside, Francis!" she commanded, after fumbling with its contents. - -He walked to the door and passed into the hall. Here he waited, -listening listlessly, drumming softly upon the railing. The room was -silent for a while; then he heard a muffled pounding, as of one stamping -down the surface of the matted dirt. At last she called him and he went -in again. Madam Grant's face was placid and kind. - -She proceeded to occupy herself busily at the little oil stove, putting -into the greasy frying-pan some chops which she had brought home with -her. The spluttering and the pungent odor of the frying fat soon filled -the two rooms. She cut a few slices from a loaf of stale bread, and set -the meager repast forth upon the top of a wooden box. - -"Come and have dinner, Francis!" she said, with a sweet look at him. - -That the boy was far older than his years was evident by the way he -watched her and took his cue from her, humoring her in her madder -moments, restraining her in her moods of mystic exaltation, pathetically -affectionate during her lucid intervals. She was in this last phase now, -and from time to time, in the course of their meal, his hand stole to -hers. Its pressure was softly returned. - -"What have you read to-day?" - -"I finished _Gulliver_." - -"What did you think of it?" - -"Why, somehow, it seemed just like it might be true." - -"_As if_ it might be true, Francis--what did I tell you?" Her tone grew -severe, almost pedagogic. "You must be careful of your talk, my boy! -Never forget; it is important. You'll never get on if you're careless -and common. You will often be judged by your speech. What else did you -read?" - -"I tried Montaigne's _Essays_, but I couldn't understand much. It -seemed so dull to me. But there's one, _Whether the Governor of a Place -Besieged Ought Himself to go out to Parley_. I like that!" - -Madam Grant laughed. "I'd like to have known Montaigne; he was a kind -of old maid, but he was a modern, after all; common sense will do if you -can't get humor." - -"Where did you get all these books, Mamsy?" - -Her face grew blank again; her eyes wandered. She recited in a sort of -croon: - - "Heard, have you? what? they have told you he never - repented his sin. - How do they know it? are they his mother? are you of - his kin?" - - -A frightened look came on the boy's face and his hand went to hers -again. - -"Mamsy, Mamsy!" he cried. "Come back, Mamsy! I want you!" - -She turned to him as if she had never seen him before. "Oh!" she said, -and drew aside. Then: "You mustn't ask questions, my boy." - -"I won't, Mamsy." - -"You're a good little boy and you came out of the dark," she pursued. - -"Out of the dark?" he repeated, tempting her on. His curiosity was -manifest. - -"Don't you remember?" - -"I'm not sure. They was a place--" - -"There was a place," she corrected. - -"There was a place where they beat me, and I ran away, and I found you, -and you were good to me." - -"No, it is you who have been good--I'm not good; I'm bad, Francis." - -"I know you're good, Mamsy, because you teach me to do everything right, -and I love you!" - -With a quick impulse she clasped him to her, but even as she did so, her -face changed again, this time with an expression of pain. She put her -hand to her heart suddenly and moaned. He watched her in terror. - -"Get the bottle!" she commanded huskily, dropping to the floor, to -support herself on her elbow. - -He ran to a little bath-room beside the closet, brought a bottle and -spoon, poured out a dose of the medicine and put it to her lips. -Finally she sat up, listening. - -"Somebody's coming. _She_ is coming! Come here, Francis! Quickly!" - -Taking him by the hand, she led him to the closet in the back room, -pushed him inside, closed the door and locked it. - -It was dark in the closet, but he knew its contents as well as if he -could see them. Upon a row of shelves were account-books and papers -covered with dust. On nails in the wall his own small stock of clothes -hung, and in a wooden box on the floor were his playthings--blocks, a -wooden horse, several precious bits of twine and leather, a collection -of spools and a toy globe. He sat down on this box patiently and -waited. - -Presently there came a knock at the hall door. Madam Grant opened it and -some one entered. He heard his guardian's voice saying: - -"Come in, Grace, here I am, such as I am, and here you are, such as you -are." Then her voice changed, becoming tremulous and excited. "Ah, but -she's beautiful! May I kiss her, Grace? Oh, what eyes! Her father's -eyes, aren't they? Don't be afraid, Grace, let her come to me." - -There was a reply in a soft voice which Francis could not make out, as -they passed into the front room. He tried to peep through the keyhole, -but as the key had been left in, he could see nothing. He sat down upon -the box again to wait, playing with his toy globe. After a while he -noticed a thin streak of light admitted by a crack in the panel of the -door, and rose to see if he could see through it. At the height of his -eye it was too narrow to show him anything in the room, but farther up -it widened. He pulled down several account-books from the shelves and -piled them upon the box. Standing tiptoe upon these, he found that he -could get a clear though limited view of the bay-window. - -Here a little girl sat quietly, vividly illuminated in the sunshine. -She was scarcely more than four years of age and was dressed in a navy -blue silk frock whose collar and pockets were elaborately trimmed with -ruffles of white satin and bows of ribbon. She wore a white muslin cap -decorated with ribbon, lace and rosebuds; white stockings showed above -her high buttoned boots; her hair was a truant mass of fine-spun -threads, curling, tawny yellow. Her face was round, her eyes -extraordinarily wide apart under level, straight brows. What caught and -held his attention, however, as he watched, was a velvety mole upon her -left cheek, so placed as to be a piquant ornament rather than a -disfigurement to her countenance. She sat listening, tightly holding a -woolly lamb in her plump little arms. The two women were out of his -range of vision. - -The steady low sound of voices came to him, but he made no attempt to -listen--his attention was riveted upon the figure of the little girl who -was sharply focused, as in an opera-glass, directly in his field of -view. Occasionally, as she was spoken to, she smiled, and her cheek -dimpled; but she seemed to be looking at him, through the door. She -scarcely moved her eyes, but kept them fixed in his direction, as if -conscious of an invisible presence. - -The women talked on. Occasionally Madam Grant's voice rose to a more -excited note, and a few words came to him, betraying to his knowledge of -her that her mood had been interrupted by her customary vagaries. At -such times the little girl would withdraw her glance to gaze solemnly in -Madam Grant's direction; she showed, however, no signs of alarm. It -seemed, indeed, as if the little girl understood, even as he understood, -the temporary aberration. Then her eyes would return to his, as if -drawn back by his gaze. - -So the scene lasted for a half-hour, during which time he caught no -glimpse of the other visitor. At last a hand was outstretched and the -little girl rose. Francis stepped down for a moment to rest himself from -his strained position; when he had put his eye again to the crack she -had passed out of his line of sight. - -He was to catch a few words more, however, before the callers left. - -"I'm glad you came to-day," Madam Grant said. "You were just in time." - -"Why, are you going to leave here?" - -"Yes, I'm going away." - -"Felicia," the visitor said earnestly, "why won't you let us take care -of you? This is no place for you--it is dreadful to think of you here! -Now, while you are able to talk to me, do let me do something for you!" - -"No; it's too late. Besides, there is Francis," said Madam Grant. - -"Let Francis come, too. This is a terrible place for a child. Look at -this room--look at the filth and disorder!" - -Madam Grant's voice rose again. "Take her away, take her away!" she -cried raucously. "She'll go to New York, she'll go to Toledo--I don't -want her in Toledo meddling! She'll be in New Orleans the first thing -you know; there she goes now! Take her away, take her away!" - -The door closed. Francis heard the key turn in the lock. Then there -was the jarring sound of a fall and finally all was still. He waited -for some moments, then he called out: - -"Mamsy, let me out! let me out!" - -There was no reply. - -"Mamsy!" he called out again. "Where are you? Come and let me out, -_please_ let me out!" - -There was still no answer to his pleadings. In terror now, he pounded -the panels, shook the handle of the door, and then began to cry. -Climbing upon the box again, he caught sight of Madam Grant's skirt. -She was lying prone upon the floor. As he wept on, she moved and began -to crawl slowly toward him. At last her hand groped to the door and the -key was turned in the lock. He burst out into her arms. - -The blood was gone from her tense, anguished face; one hand clutched at -her heart. She did not speak, but gasped horribly for breath. There -was no need now for her to direct him. He poured out a dose of medicine -and forced it between her lips. He gave her another spoonful; the drops -trickled from her mouth and stained the front of her crimson gown. -Then, with his assistance, she crept to his couch, pulled herself upon -it and lay down, groaning. He sat on the floor beside her, stroking her -hand. - -For some time she was too weak to speak. Her black eyebrows were drawn -down, the cleft between them was deep, like the gash of a knife. Her -white hair fell about her head in disorder. She drew a ragged coverlid -over her chest, as if suffering from the cold, though the sun shone in -upon her as she lay and mercilessly illumined her desperate face. The -spasm of agony abated, and after some minutes she breathed more freely. -Then, with a sigh, her muscles relaxed and her voice came clear and -calm. - -"You must be a good boy, Francis," she began, "for I am going away. -It's all over now with the worry and the puzzle and the pain. What will -you do, I wonder? Oliver might help, perhaps. Oliver isn't so bad, -down in his heart. He was fair enough. There's money enough. Francis, -when I fall asleep, look in the trunk and hide the money, if you -can--don't let them get it away from you! Wait till I'm asleep, -though--the key is in my bag. What a fool I was! I might have known. -There was my grandmother, she was mad, too. It may stop with me--oh, -she was a dear little thing, though!" - -"Who was the little girl, Mamsy?" Francis inquired, his curiosity -overcoming his fear for her. - -"Born with a veil, born with a veil! I was a seventh daughter, -too--much good it did me! I could tell others--who could tell me? -Bosh! it's all rubbish--we'll never know! fol-de-rol, Francis, it's all -gammon--all but Weenie. Weenie knows. Yellow hair, too; it will grow -gray soon enough!" Then, as if she had just heard his question she -broke our querulously, "Where did _you_ see her?" - -"I looked through a crack in the door, Mamsy." - -She pulled herself up in a frenzy of anger and shook her finger at him. -"Oh, you did, did you? You snooping, sniping monkey! I'll tell you -what you were looking at, you were watching the train to New York! -You'll go to Toledo, will you? You won't find anything there. Go to -New Orleans; there's plenty to find out in New Orleans! In Denver, too, -and way stations, but be careful, be careful! I was born in Toledo." -She sank back exhausted. - -"Don't be worried, Mamsy," said Francis, attempting to calm her. "I -won't never go to Toledo, Mamsy!" - -"'Won't never'!" She glared at him. "What did I say about double -negatives, boy? Two negatives make a positive, two pints make a quart, -two fools make a quarrel, two quarrels make a fool. What language! I -was at Vassar, too--I was secretary of my class! Oh, I want to see -Victoria! She would understand, I'm sure! Oh, Francis!" Her voice -dwindled away and her eyes closed. - -For a moment she seemed to be asleep. Then a sudden convulsion -frightened him. She spoke again without raising her lids. - -"Why, there's mother! Come and kiss me, mother! Did Weenie send for -you, mother? Oh, Weenie! Who's the old man? Father? I never saw -father on this side, did I, Weenie? He passed out when I was very -little, didn't he? So many people! Why, the room is full of them! -Yes, I'm coming--" - -The boy was tugging frantically at her hand, calling to her without -ceasing, sobbing in his fright. He succeeded at last in bringing her -out of her trance and she opened her eyes to stare at him. Her breath -was coming harder. With a great effort she reached for the boy's head -and pulled it nearer, gazing into his frightened eyes. - -"Poor Francis!" she gasped. "You've been so good, dear--you've been my -hope! Felicia Grant's hope! You have no name, dear; take that one, -instead of mine--Francis Granthope--oh, this pain!" - -"Shan't I get you the medicine?" he asked, sobbing. - -"No, it's no use." She pushed him gently away. "I'm going--to -sleep--now-- Don't call me back, Francis; I want rest. Remember the -trunk--good-by!" - -She closed her eyes and rolled over on her side, turning her face away -from him. - -He waited half an hour in silence. Then he put his hands to her arms -softly. - -"Mamsy!" he said quietly but insistently. "Are you asleep, Mamsy?" -There was no answer. - -He arose and looked for her leather bag. He found it on the floor where -she had fallen. Opening it, he found inside a heterogeneous -collection--strings, hair-pins, peppermints, papers, a lock of hair in -an envelope, a photograph, several gold pieces, and the key--he took it -and tiptoed into the little side room with excited interest. He had -never looked inside the trunk before and his eagerness made his hands -tremble as he unlocked it. - -On top was a tray filled with account-books and papers, letters, folded -newspapers and a mahogany box. It was all he could do to lift it to get -at what was beneath. He struggled with it until he had tilted it up and -slid it down to the floor. - -Below was a mass of white satin and lace. He lifted this piece by -piece, disclosing a heavy wedding gown, silk-lined, wrapped in tissue -paper, and many accessories of an elaborate trousseau--a half-dozen -pairs of silk stockings, a pair of exquisite white satin slippers, a box -of long white gloves, another of lace handkerchiefs, dozens of -mysterious articles of lingerie, embroidered and lace-trimmed. In a -lower corner was a little, white vellum, gold-clasped prayer-book. - -Lastly he found a package securely wrapped in brown paper; opening this, -he discovered six crisp, green packages of bank-notes. These he -rewrapped and slid them inside his full blue blouse. Then he put -everything back in order, replaced the tray and locked the trunk. - -Finally he stole back to the form upon the couch. "Mamsy, are you -awake?" he whispered. - -There was no answer, and he shook her shoulder slightly. Then, as she -made no reply, he leaned over and looked at her face. Her eyes were -open, fearfully open, but they did not turn to his. They were set and -glazed with film. - -A horror came over him now, and he shook her with all his strength. - -"Mamsy, Mamsy!" he cried. "Look at me, Mamsy! What's the matter?" - -Still she did not look at him, or speak, or move. He noticed that she -was not breathing, and his fear overcame him. He dropped her cold hand -and ran screaming out into the hall. - - - - - *CHAPTER I* - - *THE PALMIST AND FANCY GRAY* - - -Fancy Gray was the lady's name and the lady's hair was red. Both were -characteristic of her daringly original character, for, as Fancy's name -had once been Fanny, Fanny's hair had once been brown. Further -indication of Miss Gray's disposition was to be found in her eyebrows, -which were whimsically arched, and her mouth, which was scarlet-lipped -and tightly held. Another detail of significance was her green silk -stockings, rather artfully displayed to lend a harmony to her dark green -cloth tailor-made suit, which fitted like a kid glove over Miss Gray's -cunningly rounded little body. Her eyes were brown and bright; they -were as quick as heliograph flashes, but could, when she willed, burn as -softly as glowing coals of fire. Her face seemed freshly washed, her -complexion was translucently clear, modified only by the violet shadows -under her eyes and an imperceptible tint of fine down on her upper lip. -Her hands, well beringed and well kept, were fully worth the admiration -which, by her willingness to display them to advantage, she seemed to -expect on their account. - -In New York, a good guesser would have put her age at twenty-three; but, -taking into account the precocious effect of the California climate, -nineteen might be nearer the mark. She was, at all events, a finished -product; there was no evidence of diffidence or _gaucherie_ about Fancy -Gray. She appeared to be very well satisfied with herself. If, as she -evidently did, she considered herself beautiful, her claim would -undoubtedly be acknowledged by most men who met her for the first time. -On those more fastidious, she had but to smile and her mouth grew still -more generous, showing a double line of white teeth, those in the lower -jaw being set slightly zigzag, as if they were so pretty that it had -been wished to put in as many as possible--her cheeks dimpled, her eyes -half closed--and she triumphed over her critic. For there was something -more dangerous than beauty in that smile; there was an elfin humor that -captured and bewildered--there was warmth and welcome in it. It made -one feel happy. - -As she sat at her desk in the waiting-room she could look across the -corner of Geary and Powell Streets to catch the errant eye of passing -cable-car conductors, or gaze, in abstraction, at pedestrians crossing -Union Square, or at the oriental towers of the Synagogue beyond. With -the bait of a promising smile, she caught many an upward glance. Fancy -Gray was not in the habit of hiding her charms, and she levied tribute -to her beauty on all mankind. She gazed upon women, however, far less -indulgently than upon men; never was there a more captious observer of -her sex. A glance up and a glance down she gave; and the specimen was -classified, appraised, appreciated, condemned, condoned or complimented. -Not a pin missed her scrutiny, not a variation of the mode escaped her -quest for revealing evidence. A woman could hardly pass from contact -with Fancy's swift glance without being robbed, mentally, of everything -worth while that she possessed in the matter of novelty in fashion or -deportment. Fancy appropriated the ideas thus gained, and made use of -them at the earliest opportunity. The waiting-room bore, upon the -outside, the legend: - - +------------------------------+ - | | - | FRANCIS GRANTHOPE, PALMIST | - | | - +------------------------------+ - -Inside, where Fancy sat daily from ten to four, the apartment was walled -and carpeted in red. Upon the walls, painted wooden Chinese grotesque -masks, grinning or scowling against the fire-cracker paper, hung, at -intervals, from black stained woodwork. Between the two windows was a -plaster column bearing the winged head of Hypnos; at the other end of -the room was a row of casts of hands hanging on hooks against a black -panel. The desk in the corner was Fancy's station, and here she -murmured into the telephone, scribbled appointments in a blank-book, -read _The Second Wife_, gazed out into the green square, or manicured -her nails--according as the waiting-room chairs were empty, or occupied -with men or with women. Whatever company she had, she was never -careless of the light upon her or the condition of her tinted hair. - - -It was a cool, blustering afternoon in August. San Francisco was at its -worst phase. The wind was high and harsh, harassing the city with its -burden of dust. Over the mountains, on the Marin shore, a high fog -hung, its advance guard scudding in through the Golden Gate, piling over -the hills by the Twin Peaks and preparing its line of battle for a -general assault upon the peninsula at nightfall. In the streets men and -women clung to their hats savagely as they passed gusty corners, and -coat collars were turned up against the raw air. Summer had, so far, -spent its effort in four violently hot days, when the humid atmosphere -made the temperature unbearable. Now the weather had flung back to an -extreme as unpleasant; open fires were in order. There was one now -burning in Granthope's reception-room, to which Fancy Gray made frequent -excursions. She was there, making a picture of herself beside the -hearth, having resolutely held her pose for some time in anticipation of -his coming, when Francis Granthope arrived. - -Tall, erect and able-bodied, with the physique of an athlete, and a -strong, leonine head covered with crisp, waving, black hair, Francis -Granthope had the complement of the actor's type of looks; but his -alertness of carriage and his swift, searching glance distinguished him -from the professional male beauty. Fine eyes of deep, rich blue, fine -teeth often exposed in compelling smiles, a resolute mouth and a firm, -deeply cleft chin he had; and all these attractions were set off by his -precise dress--gloves, bell-tailed overcoat, sharply creased trousers, -varnished boots and silk hat. A short mustache, curling upward slightly -at the ends, and a small, triangular tuft of hair on his lower lip gave -him a somewhat foreign aspect. He had an air, a manner, that kept up -the illusion. Men would perhaps have distrusted him as too obviously -handsome; women would talk about him as soon as he had left the room. -Stage managers would have complimented his "presence"; children would -have watched him, fascinated, reserving their judgment. He seemed to -fill the room with electricity. - -He sent a smile to Fancy, half of welcome, half of amusement at her -picturesque posture, and, with cordial "Good morning!" in a mellow -barytone, removed his overcoat and hat, putting them into a closet near -the hall door. He reappeared in morning coat, white waistcoat and -pin-checked trousers, with a red carnation in his buttonhole. He held -his hands for a moment before the fire, then looked indulgently at his -blithe assistant. - -Now, one of Fancy's charms was a slender, pointed tongue. This she was -wont to exhibit, on occasion, by sticking it out of her mouth -coquettishly, and shaking it saucily in the direction of her nostrils--a -joyous exploit which was vouchsafed only upon rare and intimate -occasions. This, now, she did, tilting her head backward to give -piquancy to the performance. - -Granthope laughed, and went over to where she sat. - -"You're a saucy bird, Fancy," he commented, leaning over her, both hands -upon the desk. "Do you know I rather like you!" - -Her face grew drolly sober; her whimsical eyebrows lifted. - -"I don't know as I blame you," she replied. "You always did have good -taste, though." - -"I believe that I might go so far as to imprint a salute upon your -chaste brow!" - -"I accept!" said Fancy Gray. - -He stooped over and kissed her. She was graciously resigned. - -"Thank you, Frank," she said demurely. "Small contributions gratefully -received." She tucked her head into the corner of his arm, and he -looked down upon her kindly. - -"Poor little Fancy!" he said softly. - -"Have you missed me, Frank?" - -"Horribly!" - -"Don't laugh at me!" - -"How can I help it, O toy queen?" - -"Am I so awfully young?" - -"You're pretty juvenile, Fancy, but you'll grow up, I think." - -She was quite sober now. "Oh, there's an awful lot of time wasted in -growing up," she said. Then she squirmed her head so that she could -look upward at him. "You've been awfully good to me, Frank!" Her tone -was wistful. - -"You deserve more than you will ever get, I'm afraid," was his answer as -he patted her hair. - -"I think you do like me a little." - -He shook his finger at her. "No fair falling in love!" - -She laughed. "I believe you're afraid, Frank!" - -"I don't know what I'd do without you, Fancy. We've been through a good -deal together, first and last, haven't we?" - -"Yes, we've had a good time. I'd like to do it all over again." - -"Heavens, no!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't! There's enough ahead. From -what I've seen of life, things don't really begin to happen till you're -thirty, at least. All this will seem like a dream." - -"Sometimes I hope it will." Fancy was looking away, now. Her gaze -returned to him after a moment of silence. "Don't you ever think of -getting out of this, Frank? You're too good for these fakirs, really -you are! Why, you could mix with millionaires, easy! And you've got a -good start, now. They like you. You've got the style and the education -and the 'know' for it." - -He went back to the fireplace, standing there with his hands behind his -back. - -"Oh, this is amusing enough. What does it matter, anyway? There are as -big fools and shams in society as there are in my business. Look at the -women that come down here, and the things they tell me! Why, I know -them a good deal better now than I should if I were on their -calling-lists and took tea with them! But you are right, in a way. I -suppose some day I must quit this and take to honest theft." - -"Don't say that, Frank! I hate you when you're cynical." - -"What else can I be, in my profession?" - -"Oh, I do want you to quit, Frank, really I do, and yet, I hate to think -of it. What should I do? I'd lose you sure! I could never make good -with the swells. I'm only a drifter." - -"Oh, you can't lose me, Fan; we've pulled together too long. You could -make good all right. You've got a pose and a poise that some ladies -would give their teeth for. I don't believe you've ever really been -surprised in your life, have you?" - -"I guess not." Fancy shook her head thoughtfully. "When I _am_ -surprised, it'll be a woman who'll do it. No man can, that's sure." - -"No. I fancy you know all there is to know about men. I wish I did. -You'll do, Fancy Gray!" He approached her and playfully chucked her -under the chin. Then he looked at her gravely. "I wonder why you're -willing to drudge along here with me, anyway. You could get a much -better position easily--with your face--and brains." - -"_And_ figure. Don't forget that!" Fancy shook her finger at him. - -"Yes." He looked her over approvingly. - -"No woman ought to be blue with a figure like mine, ought she?" - -He laughed. "I can't imagine your ever being blue, Fancy!" - -Fancy opened her eyes very wide. - -"There's a whole lot you don't know about women yet," she said sagely. - -"That's likely." - -"Am I to understand that I'm fired, then?" She tried to appear demure. - -"Not yet. I'm only too afraid you'll resign. It's queer you don't get -married. You must have had lots of chances. Why don't you, Fancy?" - -"I never explain," said Fancy. "It only wastes time." - -He went over to her again and very affectionately boxed her ears. - -She freed herself, and turned her face up to him. "Frank," she said, "do -you think I'm pretty?" - -"You're too pretty--that's the trouble!" he answered, smiling, as at a -familiar trait. - -"No, but really--do you honestly think so?" Her face had again grown -plaintive. - -"Yes, Fancy. Far be it from me to flatter or cajole with the -compliments of a five-dollar reading, but as between friends, and with -my hand on my heart, I assert that you are beautiful." - -"I don't mean that at all," said Fancy. "I want to be _pretty_. That's -what men like--pretty girls. Beautiful women never get anywhere except -into the divorce courts. Do say I'm pretty!" - -"Fancy, you know I'm a connoisseur of women. You are actually and -absolutely pretty." - -"Well, that's a great relief, if I can only believe you. I have to hear -it once a day, at least, to keep up my courage. Now that's settled, -let's go to work." - -He went back to the fireplace and yawned. "All right. What's doing -to-day?" - -"Full up, except from eleven to twelve." - -"Who are they?" - -Fancy jauntily flipped open the appointment book and ran her forefinger -down the page. - -"Ten o'clock, stranger, Fleurette Heller. Telephone appointment. Girl -with a nice voice." - -"Be sure and look at her," Granthope remarked; "I may want a tip." - -"Ten-thirty, Mrs. Page." - -Granthope smiled and Fancy smiled. - -"Do you remember what I told her?" - -Fancy looked puzzled. "What do you mean? About her husband?" - -"No, not that. The last time she came I tried a psychological -experiment with her. I told her that normally she was a quiet, -restrained, modest, discreet woman, but that at times her emotional -nature would get the better of her; that she couldn't help breaking out -and would suddenly let go. I thought she was about due this week. -There's been something doing and she wants to tell me about it to -appease her conscience. Give them what they want, and anything goes!" - -Fancy listened, frowning, the point of her pencil between her lips. -"You don't need any of my tips on Mrs. Page," she said with sarcasm. -"At eleven, Mr. Summer, whoever _he_ is." - -"I don't care, if he's got the price." - -"It bores you to read for men, doesn't it, Frank? I wish you'd let me -do it." - -As she spoke, the telephone bell on the desk rang, and she took up the -receiver, drooping her head coquettishly. - -"Yes?" she said dreamily, her eyes on Granthope, who had lighted a -cigarette. - -"Yes, half-past eleven o'clock, if that would be convenient. What name, -please? ... No, any name will do..... Miss Smith? All right--good-by." - -She entered the appointment in her book, and then remarked decidedly, -"_She's_ pretty!" - -"No objections; they're my specialty," Granthope replied; "only I doubt -it." - -"Never failed yet," said Fancy. - -Granthope looked at his watch, then passed through a red anteroom to his -studio beyond. Fancy began to draw little squares and circles and fuzzy -heads of men with mustaches upon a sheet of paper. In a few moments the -palmist returned, his morning coat replaced by a black velvet jacket -tight-fitting and buttoned close. - -"Oh, Fancy, take a few notes, please; you didn't get that last one -yesterday, I believe." - -She reached for a lacquered tin box, containing a card catalogue, -withdrew a blank slip and dipped her pen in the ink. Then, as he -stopped to think, she remarked: - -"I don't see why you go to all this trouble, Frank. Nobody else does. -You've a good enough memory, and I think it's silly. I feel as if I -were a bookkeeper in a business house." - -"One might as well be systematic," he returned. "There's no knowing when -all this will come in handy. I don't intend to give five-dollar readings -all my life. I'm going to develop this thing till it's a fine art. I've -got to do something to dignify the trade. This doesn't use nearly all -that's in me. I wish I had something to do that would take all my -intellect--it's all too easy! I don't half try. But it's a living. -God knows I don't care for the money--nor for fame either, for that -matter. Fame's a gold brick; you always pay more for it than it's -worth. I suppose it's the sheer love of the game. I have a scientific -delight in doing my stunt better than it has ever been done before. Some -play on fiddles, I play on women--and make 'em dance, too! Some love -machinery, some study electricity--but the wireless, wheel-less -mechanics of psychology for mine. Practical psychology with a human -laboratory. Pour the acid of flattery, and human litmus turns red with -delight. Try the alkali of disapproval, and it grows blue with -disappointment. I give 'em a run for their money, too. I make life -wonderful for poor fools who haven't the wit to do it for themselves. I -peddle imagination, Fancy." - -"You get good prices," Fancy said, smiling a bit sadly. "There are -perquisites. There aren't many men who have the chances you do, Frank. -Women are certainly crazy about you, and now that you're taken up by the -smart set, I expect you will be spoiled pretty quick." She shook her -head coquettishly and dropped her eyes. - -He shrugged his shoulders. "I should think you would be almost ashamed -of being a woman, Fan, sometimes," he said. "They are all alike, I -believe." - -Fancy bridled. Then she bit her lip. "You'll meet your match some -day!" - -"God, I hope so! It'll make things interesting. Nothing matters now. I -haven't really wanted anything for years; and when you don't want -anything, Fancy, the garlands are hung for you in every house." - -"Did you ever have a conscience, Frank?" - -"Not I. I shouldn't know what to do with it, if I had one. I don't see -much difference between right and wrong. We give them what they want, -as clergymen do. It may be true and it may be false. So may religion. -There are a hundred different kinds--some of them teach that you ought -to kill your grandmother when she gets to be fifty years old. Some -teach clothing and some teach nakedness. Some preach chastity--and some -the other thing. Who's going to tell what's right? My readings are -scientific; my predictions may be true, for all I know. Some I help and -some I harm, no doubt. But from all I can see, God Himself does that. -Take that Bennett affair! He lost his money, but didn't he have a good -taste of life? We'll never know the truth, anyway. Why not fool fools -who think there's an answer to everything, and make 'em happy? Do you -remember that first time we played for Harry Wing? I was new at it -then. When I crawled through the panel and put on the robe, the tears -were streaming down my face to think I was going to fool an old man into -believing I was his dead son. What was the result? He was so happy -that he gave me his gold watch to be dematerialized for identification. -He got more solid satisfaction and comfort out of that trick than he had -out of a year of sermons. I only wish I could fool myself as easily as -I can fool others--then I could be happy myself." - -"Why, aren't you happy, Frank?" Fancy asked, her eyes full of him. "I -wish I could do something to make you happy--I'd do anything!" - -"Oh, I'm not unhappy," he said lightly, neglecting her appeal. "I can't -seem to suffer any more than I can really enjoy. I suppose I haven't -any soul. I need ambition--inspiration. But we must get to work. Are -you ready?" - -Fancy nodded. - -"August 5th," he dictated. "Mrs. Riley. Age sixty-five. Spatulate, -extreme type. Wrist, B. Fingers, B, X, 5. Life 27. Head 18. Heart -4. Fate 12. 3 girdles. Venus B. Mars A. Thumb phalange -over-developed. Right, ditto. Now:--married three times, arm broken in -'94, one daughter, takes cocaine, interested in mines. Last husband -knew General Custer and Lew Wallace. Accidentally drowned, 1877. -Accused of murder and acquitted in 1878. Very poor. - -"Don't forget to look up Lew Wallace, Fancy! Go down to the library -to-night, will you?" he said, laying down his note-book. - -"Where did you ever get that old dame?" - -"Madam Spoll sent her here. She's easy, but no money in her. Still, I -like to be thorough, even with charity cases; you never know what may -come of them." - -The telephone bell prevented Fancy's reply. She took up the receiver -and said "Yes" in a languishing drawl. - -"Yes. Number 15? .... Payson? Spell it .... Hold the line a minute." -She turned to Granthope, her ear still to the receiver, her hand -muffling the mouth-piece. - -"Funny. Speak of angels--here's Madam Spoll now! She wants to know if -you've got anything about Oliver Payson?" - -"Payson?" he repeated. "Oliver Payson? No, I don't think so, have we?" - -"I don't remember the name, but I'll run over the cards. Talk about -method! I wish Madam Spoll had some! P., Packard, Page--no; no Payson -here." She returned to the telephone. "No, we have nothing at all. -Good-by." Then she hung up the receiver. - -Granthope, meanwhile, had been walking up and down the room, frowning. - -"It's queer--that name is somehow familiar; I've heard of it somewhere. -Oliver Payson--Oliver Payson." - -"Funny how you never can think of a thing when you want to," said Fancy, -sharpening her pencil. - -"I know something about Oliver Payson," Granthope insisted. "But it's -no use, I can't get it. Perhaps it will come to me." - -"You never know what you can do till you stop trying," Fancy offered -sagely. - -Granthope spoke abstractedly, gazing at the ceiling. "It's something -about a picture, it seems to me." - -He walked into his studio, still puzzling with blurred memories. Fancy -took up _The Second Wife_. - -At ten o'clock the door opened, and Fancy's hand flew to her back hair. -A girl of perhaps twenty years with intense eyes entered timidly. Her -hair was distracted by the wind and her color was high, increasing the -charm of her pretty, earnest, finely freckled face. She wore a jacket a -little too small for her, with frayed cuffs. Her shoes were badly worn; -her hat was cheap, but effective. - -"I called to see Mr. Granthope; I think I have an appointment at ten," -she said. - -"Miss Heller?" Fancy asked. The girl nodded. Fancy took inventory of -the girl's points, looking her up and down before she replied, "All -right; just be seated for a moment, please." - -She walked to the studio and met Granthope coming out. They spoke in -whispers. - -"Let her down easy," Fancy suggested. "It's a love affair. She has a -letter in her coat pocket, all folded up; you can see the wrinkles where -it bulges out. Hat pin made of an army button, and she doesn't know -enough to paint. Make her take off her coat and see if her right sleeve -isn't soiled above where she usually wears a paper cuff to protect it. -She is half frightened to death and she has been crying." - -"All right," said Granthope. "I'll give her five dollars' worth of -optimism." - -Fancy put her hand in his softly. "Say, Frank, just charge this to me -and be good to her, will you?" - -"All right. If you like her, I'll do my best. She'll be smiling when -she comes out, you see if she isn't." - -As the girl went in for her reading, Mrs. Page walked into the -reception-room, and nodded condescendingly. She was a dashing woman of -thirty-five, full of the exuberance and flamboyant color of California. -Her hair was jet black and glossy, massively coiled upon her head; her -features were large, but regular and well formed; her figure somewhat -voluptuous in its tightly fitting tailor suit of black. She was a vivid -creature, with impellent animal life and temperament linked, apparently, -to a rather silly, feminine brain. Her mouth was large, and in it white -teeth shone. She was all shadows and flashes, high lights and depths of -velvety black. From her ears, two spots of diamond radiance twinkled as -she shook her head. When she drew off her gloves, with a manner, more -twinkles illuminated her hands. Still others shone from the cut steel -buckles of her shoes. She was somewhat overgrown, flavorless and gaudy, -like California fruit, and her ways were kittenish. Her movements were -all intense. When she looked at anything, she opened her eyes very -wide; when she spoke she pursed her lips a bit too much. Altogether she -seemed to have a superfluous ounce of blood in her veins that infused -her with useless energy. - -Fancy eyed her pragmatically, added her up, extracted her square root -and greatest common divisor. The result she reached was evident only by -the imperious way in which she invited her to be seated and the -nonchalant manner in which, after that, she gazed out upon Geary Street. - -Mrs. Page, however, would be loquacious. - -"Shall I have to wait long?" she asked. "I have an engagement at eleven -and I simply _must_ see Mr. Granthope first! It's very important." - -"I don't know," said Fancy coolly. "It depends upon whether he has an -interesting sitter or not. Sometimes he's an hour, and sometimes he's -only fifteen minutes." She spoke with a slightly stinging emphasis, -examining, meanwhile, the spots on her own finger-nails. - -"Oh," said Mrs. Page, and it was evident that the remark gave her an -idea as to her own personal powers of attraction. "I thought Mr. -Granthope treated all his patrons alike." - -"Sometimes he does and sometimes he doesn't," was Fancy's cryptic -retort. She watched the effect under drooped lashes. - -The effect was to make Mrs. Page squirm uneasily, as if she didn't know -whether she had been hit or not. She took refuge in the remark: "Well, I -hope he will give me a good reading this time." - -"It all depends on what's in your hand," Fancy followed her up, smiling -amiably. - -Mrs. Page minced and simpered: "Do you know, somehow I _hate_ to have -him look at my hand, after what he said before. He told me such -_dreadful_ things, I'm afraid he'll discover more." - -"Why do you give him a chance, then?" said Fancy coldly. - -"Oh, I hope he'll find something better, this time!" - -"Weren't you satisfied with what he gave you?" Fancy asked. "I have -found Mr. Granthope usually strikes it about right." - -"Oh, of course, I'm satisfied," Mrs. Page admitted. "In fact, I trust -him so implicitly that I have acted on his advice. But it's rather -dreadful to know the truth, don't you think?" - -Fancy nodded her head soberly. "_Sometimes_ it is." She accented the -adverb mischievously. - -"Oh, I don't mean what you mean at all!" - -"I know. You mean it's dreadful to have other people know the truth?" - -"No; but I can't help my character, can I? It's not _my_ fault if I -_have_ faults. It's all written in my palm and I can't alter it. Only, -I mean it's awful to know exactly what's going to happen and not be able -to prevent it." - -"It's worse not to want to." Fancy waved her hand to some one in the -street. - -Mrs. Page withdrew from the conversation, routed, and devoted herself to -a study of the Chinese masks, casting an occasional impatient glance -into the anteroom. Fancy polished her rings with her handkerchief. - -Granthope's voice was now heard, talking pleasantly with Fleurette, who -was smiling, as he had promised. As she left, flushed and happy, -Granthope greeted Mrs. Page, and escorted her, bubbling with talk, into -the studio. The door closed upon a pervading odor of sandalwood, Mrs. -Page's legacy to Fancy, who sniffed at it scornfully. - -Many cable-cars had passed without Fancy's having recognized any one -worth bowing to, before the next client appeared; but, at that visitor's -entry, she became a different creature. Her eyes never really left him, -although she seemed, as he waited, to be busy about many things. - -He was a smart young man, a sort of a bank-clerk person, dressed neatly, -with evidence of considerable premeditation. His hair was parted in the -middle, his face was cleanly shaven. His sparkling, laughing eyes, -devilishly audacious, his pink cheeks and his cool self-assured manner -gave him an appearance of juvenile, immaculate freshness, which rendered -an acquaintance with such a San Francisco girl as Fancy Gray, easy and -agreeable. He laid his hat and stick against his hip jauntily, and -asked: - -"Could I get a reading from Mr. Granthope without waiting all day for -it?" As he spoke he loosed a frivolous, engaging glance at her. - -"He'll be out in just a moment," Fancy replied with more interest than -she had heretofore shown. "Won't you sit down and wait, please?" - -He withdrew his eyes long enough to gallop round the room with them, but -they returned to her like horses making for a stable. He took a seat, -pulled up his trousers over his knees, drew down his cuffs, felt the -knot in his tie and smoothed his hair, all with the quick, accurate -motion due to long habit. "Horrible weather," he volunteered -debonairly. - -"It's something fierce, isn't it?" said Fancy, opening and shutting -drawers, searching for nothing. "It gets on my nerves. I wish we'd -have one good warm day for a change." - -"Been out to the beach lately?" he asked, eying her with undisguised -approval. He breathed on the crown of his derby hat and then smelt of -it. - -"No," she replied. "I don't have much time to myself. I hate to go -alone, anyway." Fancy looked aimlessly into the top drawer of her desk. - -"That's too bad! But I shouldn't think you'd ever have to go alone. -You don't look it." - -"Really?" Fancy's tone was arch. - -"That's right! I know some one who'd be willing to chase out there with -you at the drop of the hat." - -Fancy, appearing to feel that the acquaintance was making too rapid -progress, said, "I don't care much for the beach; it's too crowded." - -"That depends upon when you go. I've got a car out there where we could -get lost easy enough. Then you can have a quiet little dinner at the -Cliff House almost any night." - -"Can you? I never tried it." - -"It's time you did. Suppose you try it with me?" - -Fancy opened her eyes very wide at him and let him have the full benefit -of her stare. "Isn't this rather sudden? You're rushing it a little -too fast, seems to me." - -"Not for me. I'm sorry you can't keep up. You don't look slow." - -Fancy turned to her engagement book. - -"You must have known some pretty easy ones," she said sarcastically. - -The snub did not silence him for long. He recrossed his legs, drummed -on the brim of his hat, and began: - -"Say, did you ever go to Carminetti's?" - -"No, where is it?" - -"Down on Davis Street. They have a pretty lively time there on Sunday -nights. Everybody goes, you know--gay old crowd. They sing and -everything. It's the only really Bohemian place in town now." - -"I'm never hungry on Sundays," Fancy said coolly. - -"Nor thirsty, either?" - -"Sir?" she said in mock reproof, and then burst into a laugh. - -"Say, you scared me all right, _that_ time!" - -"You don't look like you would be scared easy. I guess it's kind of hard -to call _you_ down." - -He folded his arms and squared his shoulders. "I don't know," he said. -"I don't seem to make much of a hit with _you_!" - -"Oh, you may improve!" - -"Upon acquaintance?" - -"Perhaps. You're not in a hurry, are you?" - -"That's what I am!" He went at her now with more vigor. "I say, would -you mind telling me your name? Here's my card." - -He rose, and, walking over to the desk, laid down a card upon which was -printed, "Mr. Gay P. Summer." Fancy examined it deliberately. Then she -looked up and said: - -"My name is Miss Gray, if you _must_ know. What are you going to do -about it?" - -"I'll show you!" he laughed, drawing nearer. What might possibly have -happened (for things do happen in San Francisco) was interrupted by -sounds predicting Mrs. Page's return. - -"Say, Miss Gray, I'll ring you up later and make a date," he said under -his breath. Then he turned to Mrs. Page and stared her out of the room -with undisguised curiosity. - -"You can see Mr. Granthope now," said Fancy, unruffled by the -competition. - -He made an airy gesture and followed the palmist into the anteroom. - -Fancy grew listless and abstracted. After a while she went to the -closet, examined herself in the glass on the door, adjusted the back of -her belt, fluffed her hair over her ears and reseated herself. Then she -took her book languidly and began to read. - -There came a knock on the door. - -"Come in," Fancy called out, arousing herself again. The new-comer was -one who, though at least twenty-seven, was still graciously modeled with -the lines of youth. Her head was poised with spirit on her neck, but, -like a flower on its stem, ready to move with her varying moods, from -languor to vivacity. Her hair was a light, tawny grayish-brown, almost -yellow, undulant and fine as gossamer. In the pure oval of her face, -under level, golden brows, her eyes were now questioning, now -peremptory, but usually smoldering with dreams, hiding their color. -Their customary quiescence, however, was contradicted by the -responsiveness of her perfectly drawn mouth--a springing bow, like those -of Du Maurier's most beautiful women. The upper lip, narrow, scarlet, so -short that it seldom touched the lower, showed, beneath its lively -curve, a row of well-cut teeth. With such charm and delicacy of person -her small, flat ears and her proud, sensitive nostrils fell into lovely -accord. She wore a veil, and was dressed in a concord of cool grays, -modishly accented with black. Her movements were slow and graceful, as -if she had never to hurry. - -"I believe I have an appointment with Mr. Granthope for half-past -eleven," she said in a smooth, low, rather monotonous voice. - -"Miss Smith?" Fancy asked briskly, but with a more respectful manner -than she had shown Mrs. Page. - -The lady blushed an unnecessary pink, and blushed again to find herself -blushing. She admitted the pseudonym with a nod. - -"Take a seat, please," Fancy said. "Mr. Granthope will be ready for you -in a few minutes." Then her eyes fluttered over the visitor's costume, -rested for a second upon her long black gloves, darted to her little, -patent-leather shoes, mounted to her black, picturesque hat, and sought -here and there, but without success, for jewelry. - -The lady took a seat in silence. She repaired the mischief the wind had -done to her hair, raising her hand abstractedly, as she looked about the -room. The Chinese masks did not entertain her long, but the head of -Hypnos she appeared to recognize with interest. From that to Fancy, and -from Fancy to the row of casts, her glance went, slowly, deliberately. -Then she took a large bunch of violets from her corsage, and smelled -them thoughtfully. - -Fancy began to play with one of her bracelets, clasping and unclasping -it. The lock caught in a bangle-chain, and, frowning, she bent to -unfasten it. In an instant the lady noticed her dilemma, smiled frankly, -and walked over to the desk, drawing off her long glove as she did so. - -"Let me do it for you!" she said, and, taking Fancy's hand, she busied -herself with the clasp. - -Fancy watched her amusedly. The lady was so close that she could enjoy -the odor of the violets and a fainter, more exquisite perfume that came -from the diaphanous embroidered linen blouse, whose cost Fancy might -have reckoned in terms of her week's salary. With careful, skilful -movements the chain was unfastened, but the lady still held Fancy's hand -in her own. - -"Oh, what beautiful hands you have!" she exclaimed. "I never saw -anything so lovely in my life! Let me see them both! I wonder if you -know how pretty they are!" - -She looked questioningly into Fancy's face and the twinkle in Fancy's -eyes answered her. - -"Oh, of course you do! Mr. Granthope must have told you! He has never -seen a prettier pair, I'm sure!" She laid them carefully down, palms to -the table, and smiled at Fancy. - -"I see you've got the right idea about hands," said Fancy Gray archly. -"That second finger's pretty good; did you notice it?" - -Both laughed. - -"I hope you don't think I'm rude," said the lady. - -"You don't worry me a bit, so long as you can keep it up. I'm only -afraid you're going to stop! But it seems to me you've got a pretty -small pair of hands yourself! No wonder you noticed mine!" Fancy gazed -at them, as if she were surprised to find any one who could compete with -her own specialty. - -For answer, Miss Smith, as she had called herself, drew her violets from -her coat, kissed them and handed them to Fancy. Fancy played up; kissed -them too, nodded, as if drinking a health, and tucked them safely away -on her own breast. Then she treated Miss Smith to the by-play of her -delicious dimples, as she said, "Come in as often as you like, -especially when you have flowers!" - -"Miss Smith's" face had become wonderfully alive, and she gazed at Fancy -so frankly admiring that now Fancy had to drop her own eyes in -embarrassment. At this moment Granthope's voice was heard as he came -out of his studio with Gay P. Summer. A kind of shyness seemed to -envelop the visitor and she drew back, her color mounting, her lids -drooping. - -"I'm all ready for you, Miss Smith," said Granthope, coming into the -room and bowing suavely. "Come in, please." - -Leaving Mr. Summer in conversational dalliance with Fancy Gray, the lady -followed the palmist into his studio. As she walked, her graceful, -long-limbed tread, with its easy swing, seemed almost leopard-like in -its unconscious freedom, her head was carried somewhat forward, -questing, her arms were slightly extended tentatively from her side, as -if she almost expected to touch something she could not see. - - - - - *CHAPTER II* - - *TUITION AND INTUITION* - - -It was a large room, unfurnished except for a couch in a recess of the -wall and a table with two chairs drawn up under an electric-light bulb -which hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered from floor to -cornice by an arras of black velvet, falling in full, vertical folds, -sequestering the apartment in soft gloom. Over the couch, this drapery -was embroidered with the signs of the zodiac in a circle--all else was -shadowy and mysterious. - -The young woman walked into the place with her leisurely stride--her -chin a little up-tilted, her eyes curious. In the center of the room -she stopped and looked slowly and deliberately about her. The corners -of her mouth lifted slightly with amusement, evidently at the obvious -picturesqueness of the studio. - -Granthope watched her keenly. With his eyes and ears full of Fancy -Gray's ardent, dramatic youth, sparkling with the sophistication of the -city, slangy, audacious, gay, this girl seemed almost unreal in her -delicacy and exquisite virginity, a creature of dreams and faery, the -personification of an ideal too fine and fragile for every-day. Her -face showed caste in every line. He was a little afraid of her. Her -bearing compelled not only respect, but, in a way, reverence--a tribute -he seldom had felt inclined to pay to the _mondaines_ who visited him. - -His confidence, however, soon asserted itself. He had found that all -women were alike--there were, as in chess, several openings to his game, -but, once started, the strategy was simple. - -"Well, how do you like my studio?" - -"It's like dreams I've had," she said. "I like it. It's so simple." - -"Most people think it too somber." - -"It is somber; but that purple-black is wonderful in the way it takes -the light. And it's all so different!" - -"Yes, I flatter myself it is that. But I'm 'different' myself." - -"Are you?" She turned her eyes steadfastly upon him for the first time, -as if mentally appraising him, as he stood, six feet of virility, -handsome, vivid and nonchalant. The color which had risen to her cheeks -still remained. - -"You are, too," he went on, examining her as deliberately. - -She smiled faintly and took a seat by the table and removed her veil. -Her face was now clearly illuminated, and Granthope's eyes, traveling -from feature to feature in quest of significant details, fell upon her -left cheek. His look was arrested at the sight of a brown velvety mole, -a veritable beauty-spot, heightening the color of her skin. It was -charming, making her face piquant and human. His hand went to his -forehead thoughtfully. - -At the sight of this mark upon her cheek, something troubled him. His -mind, always alert to suggestive influences, registered the faintest -impression of a thought at first too elusive to be called an idea. It -was like the ultimate, dying ripple from some far-off shock to his -consciousness. The impact died almost as it reached him--a flash, -vaguely stimulating to his imagination, and then it was gone, its -mysterious message uncomprehended. - -She watched him a little impatiently, seeming to resent his scrutiny. -Noticing this, he summoned his distracted attention and seated himself -at the table. But, from time to time, now, his glance darted to her -cheek surreptitiously, searching for the lost clue. He had learned the -value of such subtle intuitions and would not give up his efforts to -take advantage of this one. - -She laid her bare hand upon the black velvet cushion beneath the light, -saying, "I'm sorry that something has disturbed you." She looked at -him, and then away. - -"Why, nothing has disturbed me," he said. "Why should you think so?" -Even as he pulled himself together for this denial her quick perception -gave him another cause for wonder. - -"I'm rather sensitive to other people's moods sometimes. That's one -reason why I came. I didn't know but you might tell me something about -it--how far to trust it, perhaps--though I came, I confess, more from -curiosity." - -Her air was still so detached that her conversational approaches seemed -almost experimental. She spoke with pauses between her phrases, while -her eyes, now showing full and clear gray, lit upon him only to rove -off, returned and departed again, but never rapidly, as if she sought -for her words here and there in the room, and brought them calmly back -to him. She did not shun a direct gaze, but her look wandered as her -thought wandered in its logical course, for the time seeming to forget -his presence. - -He took her hand and felt of it, testing its quality and texture, -preparing himself for his speech. Her hand was long and slim, with -scarcely a fiber more flesh upon the bones than was necessary to cover -them admirably. He had no thought at first except to give his ordinary -routine of reading, but his study of her showed her to be an exceptional -character. She was beautiful, with the loveliness of an aristocratic and -slightly bewildering spiritual type. Her hand in his was magnetic, -delicious of contact, subtly alive even though not consciously -responsive. Other women with more obvious charm had left him cold. -She, aided by no suggestion of coquetry or complaisance, allured him. -She awakened in him a desire not wholly physical, although he could not -fail to regard her primarily in the sex relation that, so far, had been -his chief interest in women. She, as a woman, answered, in some secret -way, him, as a man. This was his first wave of feeling. Her hint -amused him, true as her intuition had been; she had stumbled upon his -embarrassment, no doubt, and had claimed prescience, a common enough -form of feminine conceit. There he had a valuable suggestion as to the -direction of her line of least resistance to his wiles. - -Following upon this, as the first feeling of her unreality faded, upon -contact, came the thought of her as a wealthy and credulous girl, who -might minister to his ambitions. He was without real social -aspirations, except in so far as his success in the fashionable world -favored the game he was playing. Years of contact with credulity and -hypocrisy had carried him, mentally, too far to value the lionizing and -the hero-worship he had tasted from his smarter clients. But the -patronage of such a fair and finished creature as this girl, especially -if he could establish a more intimate relation, might secure the -permanence of his position and his opportunities. He saw vistas of -delight and satisfaction in such an acquaintance. He had had his fill -of silly women whose favors were paid for in ministrations to their -vanity. Such tribute, easy as it was for him with his facility, irked -him. Here, perhaps, was one who might hold his interest by her fineness -and her mentality, and by the very difficulty he might find in -impressing her. There would be zest to the pursuit. - -Beneath these waves of feeling, however, and beneath his active -intelligence, there was an inchoate disturbance in some subconscious -stratum of his mind. He felt it only as the slight mental perplexity the -mole upon her cheek had caused; he had no time, now, to pursue that -incipient idea. His impression of her as a desirable, pleasurable -quarry incited him to devise the psychological method necessary for her -capture. He knew to a hair, usually, what he could do with women; but -now he was forced to gain time by a preamble in the conventional patter -of the palmist's cult. - -Her hand, it appeared, was of a mixed type, neither square nor conic, -with long fingers, inclined to be psychic. He remarked the -extraordinary sensitiveness denoted by their cushioned tips. Nails, -healthy and oval; knuckles indicating a good sense of order in mental -and physical life. She was, in short, of strong, vigorous mentality, -well-balanced, artistic, generous, liberal; but (he referred to the -Mount of Jupiter) with a tendency to be a looker-on rather than a sharer -in the ordinary social pleasures of life. Saturn, developed more toward -the finger, gave her a slightly melancholy temperament; Apollo showed a -great appreciation of the beautiful in nature, with no little critical -knowledge of art; Mercury was less developed, and implied a lack of -humor; Venus betrayed a well-controlled but warm feeling; it was -soft--she was, consequently, easily moved. Her thumb was wilful rather -than logical, her fingers suggested respectively, pride, perception, -self-respect, morbidity, love of the beautiful as distinguished from the -ornamental, tact. - -He had thrown himself into a pose so habitual as to become almost -unconscious, though it was keyed to the theatrical pitch of his -picturesque appearance and surroundings. The girl's expression showed, -to his alert eye, a slight disappointment at the conventionality of his -remarks. This spurred him to more originality and definiteness. He -tossed his hair back with one hand in a quick gesture and turned to the -lines in her palm, examining them first with a magnifying glass and then -tracing them with an ivory stylus. Her eyes were fixed upon his, as if -she were more interested in the manner than the matter of his task. - -"You are the sort of person," he said, "who is, in a certain sense, -egoistic. That is, after a criticism of any one, you would immediately -ask yourself, 'Would I not have done the same thing, under the same -circumstances?' You're stupendously frank--you'd own up to anything, -any faults you thought you possessed; you'd even exaggerate a jestingly -ignoble confession of motives because you hate hypocrisy so much in -others. You are eminently fair and just, as you are generous. You have -none of the ordinary feminine arts of coquetry. If you liked a man you -would say so frankly." - -It was typical of Granthope's enthusiasm for his game that he dared thus -play it so boldly with his cards face up upon the table. His visitor -began to show more interest; it was evident that she appreciated the -ingeniousness of his phrasing. Her lip curved into a dainty smile. Her -eyes gleamed slyly, then withdrew their fire. - -He continued: "You are slow in action, but when the time comes, you can -act swiftly without regard of the consequences. You are not prudish. -You are willing to look upon anything that can be regarded as evidence -as to the facts of life, even though you may not care to go into things -purely for the sake of experience. You are faithful and loyal, but you -are not of the type that believes 'the king can do no wrong'--you see -your friends' faults and love them in spite of those faults, yet you are -absolutely indifferent to most persons who make no special appeal. You -are lazy, but physically, not mentally--there is no effort you will -spare yourself to think things out and get to the final solution of a -psychological or moral problem. You love modernness, complexity of -living, the wonderful adjustments that money and culture effect, but not -enough to endure the conventionality that sort of life demands. You are -not particularly economical--you'd never go all over your town for a -bargain or to 'pick up' antiques--you would prefer to go to a good shop -and pay a fair price. You are fond of children--not of all children, -however, only bright and interesting ones. You are fond of dress in a -sensuous sort of way; that is, you like silk stockings, because they -feel cool and smooth; silk skirts, because they fall gracefully and make -a pleasant swish against your heels; furs, on account of the color and -softness, but none of these merely because of their richness or -splendor." - -His face was intent, almost scowling, two vertical lines persisting -between his brows; his mouth was fixed. His concentration seemed to -hold no personal element; there was nothing to resent in the contact of -his fingers or the absorption of his gaze. Suddenly, however, he looked -up and smiled--he knew how to smile, did Granthope--and the relation -between them became so personal and intimate that she involuntarily drew -away her hand. He was instantly sensitive to this and by his attitude -reassured her. Not, however, before she had blushed furiously, in spite -of evident efforts to control herself. - -His eyes glanced again at the mole on her cheek. Then, as if electrified -by the sudden kindling and intensification of her personality, his -subconscious mind finished its work without the aid of reason. As a -bubble might separate itself from the bottom of the sea and ascend, -quivering, to the surface, his memory unloosed its secret, and it rose, -to break in his mind. The mole--_he had seen it before_--where? Like a -tiny explosion the answer came--_upon the cheek of the little girl who -visited them that day_, twenty-three years ago, at Madam Grant's--the -day she died. It reached him with the certainty of truth. It did not -even occur to him to doubt its verity. In a flash, he saw what -sensational use he could make of the intelligence. Another idea -followed it--an old trick--perhaps it would work again. - -"Would you mind taking off that ring?" he asked. - -She drew off a simple gold band set with three turquoises. He laid it -upon the cushion, turning it between his fingers as he did so. In a -single glance he had read the inscription engraved inside. His ruse was -undetected; her eyes had roved about the room. He turned to her again. - -"You are twenty-seven years old. You have a lover, or, rather, a man is -making love to you. I do not advise you to marry him. You have -traveled a good deal and will take another journey within a year. -Something is happening in connection with a male relative that worries -you. It will not be settled for some time. Are there any questions you -would like to ask?" - -"I think you have answered them already," she replied. - -He leaned back, to shake his hands and pass them across his forehead, -theatrically. Another bubble had broken in his consciousness. "Oliver -Payson!"--the name came sharply to his inner ear like a voice in a -telephone. Oliver Payson--he recalled now where he had seen the -name--_upon the newspaper cut pinned to the door of Madam Grant's -bedroom_. Like two drops of quicksilver combining, this thought fused -with that suggested by the mole on the girl's cheek. "Clytie -Payson"--this name came to him, springing unconjured to his mind. He -determined to hazard a test of the inspiration. He simulated the -typical symptoms of obsession, trembled, shuddered and writhed in the -professional manner. Then he said: - -"Would you like a clairvoyant reading? I think I might get something -interesting, for I feel your magnetism very strongly." - -She assented with an alacrity she had not shown before. Her eyes opened -wider, she threw off her lassitude, awakening to a mild excitement. - -"Let me take your hands again--both of them. This is something I don't -often do, but I'll see what I can get." - -He shut his eyes and spoke monotonously: - -"I see a name--C, l, y--" - -The girl's hands gave an involuntary convulsion. - -"--t, i, e. Is that it? Clytie! Wait--I get the name--" - -Beneath slightly trembling lids, a fine, sharp glance shot out at her -and was withdrawn again. It was as if he had stolen something from her. - -"Payson!" - -The girl withdrew her hands suddenly; she drew in her breath swiftly, -paling a little. - -"That's my name, Clytie Payson! It's wonderful! Go on, please!" - -She gave him her gracilent, dewy hands again, and he thrilled to their -provocative spell. He took advantage of her distraction to enjoy them -lightly. When he spoke there was no hesitation in his voice. - -"I don't understand this! I don't know who these people are, or where -they are, and it seems ridiculous to tell it. But there is a fearfully -disordered room with the sun coming in through dirty, broken windows. -The floor is covered with rubbish, there's no furniture but a few old -boxes. I see two women and a little girl. They are in old-fashioned -costumes." - -Clytie's face was pale, now, and she watched him breathlessly. - -"One of the women has white hair and vivid black eyebrows. She talks -wildly sometimes; sometimes she's quite calm. The other woman is -middle-aged and has a soft voice. The little girl is dressed in blue; -she is sitting on a box listening. The crazy woman is kissing her." - -He shook himself, shuddered and opened his eyes, to find Miss Payson -gazing upon him, her hand to her heart. - -"It's strange!" she said. - -"It sounds nonsensical, I suppose," he said, "but that's just what I -get. Can you make anything of it?"' - -"It's all true!" said Clytie. "That very thing happened to me when I -was a little girl--so long ago, that I had almost forgotten it." - -"You remember it, then?" - -"Yes, it all comes back to me--though I have wondered vaguely about it -often enough. It was when I was four years old and I went with my -mother to call on this strange, crazy woman--if she were crazy! I never -knew. I never dared speak to father about it. He never knew that we -went, I think. I had an idea that he wouldn't have liked it, had he -known." - -"And your mother?" - -"She died--the same year, I think. We left San Francisco, father and I, -soon after, and we lived abroad for several years. I didn't even -remember the scene until long afterward, when something brought it up. -Then it was like a dream or a vision." - -"Do you know, Miss Payson, I feel that you have very strong mediumistic -powers; I can feel your magnetism. I think that you might develop -yourself so as to be able to use your psychic force." - -She took it seriously. - -"Yes, I think I do have a certain amount of capacity that way. I can -never depend upon it, though, but my intuitions are very strong and -occasionally rather strange things have happened to me." - -It amused him to see how quickly she had fallen into the trap he had set -for her. Experience had taught him it was a common enough assertion for -women to make, and he was cynically incredulous. He was a little -disappointed, too; as, in his opinion, it discounted her intelligence. -Nevertheless, he found in it a way to manipulate her. - -"Perhaps I might help you to develop it," he suggested, "although I'm -not much of a clairvoyant myself; I claim only to be a scientific -palmist." - -"I think you are wonderful," Clytie asserted, giving him a glance of -frank admiration. "This test alone would prove it. You see, having -some slight power myself, I'm more ready to believe that others have -it." - -He waived her compliment with apparent modesty. - -"Women are more apt to be gifted that way--it isn't often I attempt a -psychic reading. What is written in the palm I can read; as a physician -diagnoses a case from symptoms in the pulse and tongue and temperature, -so I read a person's character from what I see in the hand. I have been -particularly interested in yours, Miss Payson, and perhaps I have been -able to give you more than usual. I hope I may have the opportunity of -seeing you again; I'm quite sure I can help you, or put you in the way -of assistance." - -She arose and slowly drew on her gloves, her mind full of the -revelation. He watched every motion with delight. Her brief mood of -irradiation had given place to her customary languor, and her fragile -loveliness, emphasizing the opposite to every one of his virile, ardent -traits, allured him with the appeal of one extreme to another. Most of -all, her mouth, wayward with its ravishing smile, enchanted him. It was -controlled by no coquetry, he knew, and it moved him the more for that -reason. Yet she seemed loath to go and moved slowly about the room. -She stopped to point with a sweeping gesture at one side of the -velvet-hung wall. - -"It's rather too bad to hide the windows, isn't it?" - -He smiled at her divination, doubtful of its origin. - -"You have a very good sense of direction, haven't you?" - -She appeared to notice his incredulity, but not to resent it. - -"Indeed, I have very little," she said; then, giving him her hand with a -quick impulse of cordiality, she smiled, nodded and turned to the -anteroom. - -He glanced at the table, saw her ring, and made a motion toward it. -Then it occurred to him that it might be used as an excuse for seeing -her again and he followed her out. - -In the reception-room, Fancy was yawning; seeing them, she brought her -hand quickly to her mouth and raised her eyebrows at Granthope. He made -no sign in reply. Clytie walked up to her impulsively and held out her -hand. - -"I do hope I'll see you again, sometime," she said. - -Fancy laughed. "I do, too. You're the only one who's ever really -appreciated me. You make me almost wish I was a lady." By her tone, -there was some old wound that bled. - -"You're that, and better, I'm sure," Clytie answered softly; "you're -yourself!" - -She turned to leave. Granthope, who had watched the two women, amused, -opened the door for her, received her long, steady glance, her quiet, -low "Good morning," and bowed her out. - -As soon as she had fairly left, he turned quickly to Fancy. "Where's -Philip?" - -"In the back room, I suppose." Fancy looked surprised. - -"Go and get him, please; tell him to find out where this girl lives, and -all he can about her." - -"Say, Frank--" Fancy began, rising. - -"Hurry, please! I don't want him to miss her. She's a good thing!" - -"She's _too_ good, Frank, that's just it!" - -"That's why I want her. I don't catch one like that every day. Why, -she's worth all the rest put together." He looked impatiently at her. - -Fancy shrugged her shoulders and sailed airily out of the room. - -Granthope stood for some time, his hands thrust into the pockets of his -velvet coat, gazing abstractedly at the red wall of his reception-room. -Then he took up the telephone and called for Madam Spoll's number. - -He made himself known and then said, "I'll be round to-night before your -seance. I want to talk something over." - - - - - *CHAPTER III* - - *THE SPIDER'S NEST* - - -The architecture of San Francisco was, in early days, simple and -unpretentious, befitting the modest aspirations of a trading and mining -town. Builders accepted their constructive limitations and did their -honest best. False fronts, indeed, there were, making one-story houses -appear to be two stories high, but redwood made no attempts in those -days to masquerade as marble or granite. - -During the sixties, a few French architects imported a taste for classic -art, and for a time, within demure limits, their exotic taste prevailed. -The simple, flat, front wall of houses, now grown to three honest -stories high, they embellished with dentil cornice, egg-and-dart -moldings and chaste consoles; they added to the second story a little -Greek portico with Corinthian columns accurately designed, led up to by -a flight of wooden steps; the facade was broken by a single bay-window, -ornamented with conventional severity. Block after block of such -dwelling-houses were built. They had a sort of restful regularity, they -broke no artistic hearts. - -In later days, when San Francisco had begun to take its place in the -world, a greater degree of sophistication ensued. Capitals of columns -became more fanciful, ornament more grotesquely original, till ambitious -turners and wood-carvers gave full play to their morbific imagination. -Then was the day of scrolls and finials, bosses, rosettes, brackets, -grille-work and comic balusters. Conical towers became the rage, wild -windows, odd porches and decorations nailed on, regardless of design, -made San Francisco's nightmare architecture the jest of tourists. -Lastly, after an interregnum of Queen Anne vagaries, came the -Renaissance and the Age of Stone, heralded by concrete imitations and -plaster walls of bogus granite. - -Madam Spoll's house was of that commonplace, anemically classic style -which, after all, was then the least offensive type of residence. It -was painted appropriately in lead color--for the house, with the rest of -the block, seemed to have been cast in a mold--a tone which did its best -to make Eddy Street prosaic. It had been long abandoned by fashion and -was now hardly on speaking terms with respectability. It occupied a -place in a row of boarding-houses, cheap millinery establishments and -unpretentious domiciles. There was a dreary little unkempt yard in -front, with a passage leading to an entrance under the front steps; -above, the sign "Madam Spoll, Clairvoyant and Medium," was displayed on -ground glass, and below, hanging on a nail against the wall, was a -transparency. When the lamp was lighted inside this, one read the words: -"Circle To-night. Admittance ten cents." - -This Thursday the lamp was lighted. It was half-past seven o'clock. - -Devotees had begun to arrive, and, entering by the lower door, they paid -their dimes to Mr. Spoll, who stood beside the little table at the -entrance, left their "tests"--envelopes, flowers, jewelry or what -not--and passed into the audience-room. - -This had once been a dining-room and its walls were covered with a -figured paper, above which was a bright red border decorated with -Japanese fans and parasols. A few gaudy paper lanterns hung from the -ceiling, and here and there were hung framed mottoes: "There Is No -Death"--"We Shall Meet Again"--"There Is a Land that is Fairer than -Day." This room was filled with chairs set in rows, and would hold some -forty or fifty persons. It was separated by an arch from a smaller room -beyond, where, upon a platform, stood a table with an open Bible, an -organ, two chairs and a folding screen. - -Only the front seats were at present occupied, these by habitues of the -place, all firm believers, a picturesque group showing at a glance the -stigmata of eccentricity or mental aberration. For the most part they -were women in black; they bowed to one another as they sat down, then -waited in stolid patience for the seance to open. The others were pale, -blue-eyed men with drooping mustaches and carefully parted hair, and a -whiskered, bald-headed old gentleman or two who sat in silence. The -room was dimly illuminated by side lights. - -Farther down the hallway, opposite the foot of a flight of stairs -leading upward to her living-rooms, was Madam Spoll's "study," and here -she was, this evening, preparing for business. - -This room was small and crowded with furniture. The marble mantel held -an assortment of bisque bric-a-brac, sea-shells, paper knives and cheap -curiosities. The walls were covered with photographs, a placque or two, -fans and picture cards. A huge folding bed, foolishly imitating a -mirrored sideboard, occupied one corner of the room. A couch covered -with fancy cushions and tidies ran beside it. A table, heavily draped, -a three-legged tea-stand, an easel with a satin sash bearing the -portrait, photographically enlarged in crayon, of a bold, smirking, -overdressed little girl, a ragged trunk and several plush-covered chairs -were huddled, higgledy-piggledy, along the other side of the room. - -Upon the couch Madam Spoll sat, spraying envelopes with alcohol from an -atomizer on a small bamboo stand before her. - -She was an enormous woman of masculine type, with short, briskly -curling, iron-gray hair and a triple chin. Heavy eyebrows, heavy lips, -heavy ears and cheeks had Madam Spoll, but her forehead was unlined with -wrinkles; her expression was serene, and, when she smiled, engaging and -conciliating. She was dressed in black satin with wing-like sleeves, -the front of her waist being covered with a triangular decoration of -bead-work. - -Watching her with roving, black eyes was Professor Vixley, smoking a -vile cigar. His face was sallow, of a predatory mold with a pointed, -mangy beard, and sharp, yellow teeth. He wore a soft, striped flannel -shirt with a flowing pink tie. From the sleeves of his shiny, cutaway -coat, faded to a purplish hue, his thin, tanned, muscular hands showed -like the claws of a vulture. - -"You seem to be doin' a pretty good business," he remarked, dropping his -ashes carelessly upon the floor. - -"So-so," Madam Spoll answered. "If things go well we hope to get a new -hall up on Post Street, but there ain't nothing in tests. Straight -clairvoyance is the future of _this_ business. Of course, we have to -give cheap circles to draw the crowd, but it's a lot of bother and -expense and it does tire me all out. Then there's always the trouble -from the newspapers likely to come up." - -"Pshaw! I wouldn't mind gettin' into the newspapers occasionally, it's -good advertisin'. The more you're exposed the better you get along, I -believe." - -"'Lay low and set on your eggs' is my motto," said the Madam. "I don't -like too much talk. I prefer to work in the dark--there's more money in -it in the long run. I don't care if I only have a few customers; if -they're good and easy I can make all I want." - -"What do you bother with sealed messages for, Gert?" Professor Vixley -asked. - -"Oh, I got to fix a lot of skeptics to-night. I can usually open the -ballots right on the table easy enough behind the flowers, but I want to -read a few sealed messages besides. It may help along with Payson, -too." She took up an envelope numbered "275." It was saturated with -alcohol. She held it to the light, and squinting at the transparent -paper, she read: "'When is Susie coming home?' Now, ain't that a fool -question? I'll take a rise out of _her_, see if I don't! That's that -woman who got into trouble in that poisoning case." - -"Say, the alcohol trick's a pretty good stunt when you get a chance to -use it! But I don't have time for it in my business." - -"Yes, it's easy enough if you use good, grain alcohol, but I wish I had -an egg-tester. They save a lot of time, and you can read through four -or five thicknesses of paper with 'em. Spoll, he has plenty of chance -to hold out the ballots and bring 'em in to me; his coming and going -ain't noticed, because he has to fetch 'em up to the table, anyway. By -the time I go on, all the smell's faded out. If it ain't, my -handkerchief is so full of perfumery that you can't notice anything -else. I'm going to fit up my table with one o' them glass plates with -an electric flash-light underneath that I can turn on with a switch. -You can read right through the envelope then. But I don't often consent -to tests like that. It deteriorates your powers. And my regular -customers are usually contented to send their ballots up open and glad -of the chance to get an answer. _They_ don't want to give the spirits -no trouble! Lord, I wish I had the power I had when I begun." She -smiled pleasantly at her companion. - -"I see old Mrs. Purinton on the front row as I come in," Vixley -observed, shifting his cigar labially from one corner of his mouth to -the other. - -"Say, there's a grafter for fair!" she exclaimed. "She's been coming -here to the publics for two years and never once has she gave me a -private setting. That's what I call close. She's as near as matches! -And always the same old song--little Willie's croup or when's Henry -going to write, and woozly rubbish like that. I got a good mind to hand -her a dig. I could make a laughing-stock out of her, and scare her away -easy. Folks do like a laugh at a public seance; you know that, -Professor." - -"Sure! It don't do no harm as long as you hit the right one." - -"Oh, I ain't out for nothing but paper-sports and grafters. I know a -good thing when I see it. I hope there'll be something doing worth -while in this Payson business. He may show up to-night. Lulu claims -she conned him good." - -"I hope I'll have a slice off him," said Professor Vixley, his beady, -black eyes shining. "We got to get up a new game for him before we pass -him down the line." - -"Oh, if anybody can I guess we can; there's more'n one way to kill a -cat, besides a-kissing of it to death." - -"Yes, smotherin' it in hot air, for instance!" Vixley grinned. - -"They's one thing I wish," said Madam Spoll, "and that is that we had a -regular blue-book like they have in the East. Why, they tell me there's -six thousand names printed for Boston alone. If we had some way of -getting a lead with this Payson it would be lots easier. But I expect -the San Francisco mediums will get better organized some day and -cooeperate more shipshape." - -Here Mr. Spoll entered, a tall, thin, bony, wild-eyed individual with a -rolling pompadour of red hair, his face spattered with freckles. He -walked on tiptoe, as if at a funeral, bowed to the Professor, coughed -into his hand, and took up the letters Madam Spoll had been -investigating, putting down some new ones. - -"Oh, here's that 'S.F.B.' that Ringa told me about," she said, glancing -at an envelope. "Is Ringa come in yet?" - -"I ain't seen him; but it's early," said Spoll. "He'll show up all -right. I'll send him right in." - -"Is Mr. Perry in front?" - -"You bet!" Spoll was still tiptoeing about the room on some mysterious -errand. "Perry ain't likely to lose a chance to make a dollar, not -him!" - -"He's a good one!" Madam Spoll smiled at the Professor. "I don't -hardly know what I'd do without him. I can always depend upon him to -make good. He ain't too willing, and sometimes, I declare, he almost -fools me, even. I've known him to stand up and denounce me something -fierce, especially when there was newspaper men in the audience, and -then just gradually calm down and admit everything I wanted him to. He -looks the part, too. Why, I sent him round to Mrs. Stepson's circle one -night, when she first come to town, and she was fooled good. I've seen -him cry at a materializing seance so hard it would almost break your -heart." - -"Does he play spook?" - -"No, he's best in the audience. He's a good capper, but I don't believe -he could play spook--besides, he's getting too fleshy." - -"Who else have you got regular?" asked Professor Vixley. - -"Only two or three. I don't need so many touts as most. I pride myself -on doing my own work without much help. Of course, you got to give a -name sometimes when a fishing test won't work, and a friend in the -audience helps. Miss French, she's pretty good, but she's tricky. I'm -afraid of her. I was gave away once to the _Chronicle_ and I lost a -whole lot of business. Men are safer. Harry Debert is straight enough, -but he's stupid. He's the too-willing kind, and you don't have a chance -to get any effect. - -"Say, Spoll," she added to her husband, "be sure and don't take no combs -nor gloves! I ain't going to do no diagnosing in public--not for ten -cents. Them that want it can pay for it and take a private setting." - -"They're mostly flowers to-night," said Spoll as he crept out of the -room. - -"Lord, I do hate a flower test!" she groaned. "It's too hard work. Of -course, they're apt to bring roses if their name's Rose, or lilies and -daisies the same way, but you can't never be sure, and you have to fish. -Lockets is what I like, lockets and ballots." - -At this moment Mr. Ringa entered. He was a bleached, tow-headed youth, -long and lanky, with mild gray eyes and a stubbly, straw-colored -mustache. Two front teeth were missing from his upper jaw. His clothes -seemed to have shrunk and tightened upon his frame. He bowed -respectfully to Madam Spoll and Professor Vixley, who represented to him -the top of the profession. - -"Did you get that 'S.F.B.' letter, all right?" he asked. - -"Yes, what about it?" - -"She's easy!" - -Vixley grinned. "If she's easy for you she must be a cinch for us!" - -Ringa persevered. "Well, I got the dope, anyway. She's a Mrs. Brindon -and she's worried about her husband--he's gone dotty on some fluzie up -North. I read her hand last week. I told her they was trouble coming to -her along of a dark woman--she's one of these beer-haired blondes--what -I call a Wuerzburger blonde--then I showed it to her in the -heart-streak. 'Go ahead and tell me how it will come out,' she says. I -says: 'There's a peculiar condition in your hand that I ain't quite on -to,' I says. She says: 'Why, can't you read it?' Says I: 'Madam, if I -could read that well, I wouldn't be doing palms for no two bits a shot; -I'd be where Granthope is, with a fly-away studio and crowding it at -five plunks, per.' Then I says: 'Say, I hear Madam Spoll has great -gifts in predicting at all affairs of the heart. I ain't never been to -any of her circles, but why don't you shoot around next Thursday night -and try her out?' 'What'll I do?' she says. Then I told her to write -on a paper, 'Does he care more for Mae Phillips than he does for me, and -how will it come out?' She done it and sealed it up into an envelope I -give her." - -[Illustration: "I told her they was trouble coming to her"] - -"Good work!" said Madam Spoll. "I'll give you a rake-off if I land her. -I've got her ballot right here. I won't need to open it." - -"Ain't that job worth a dollar to you as it stands?" Ringa asked -nervously. "I'll call it square and take my chances on the percentage." - -"All right. It's a good sporting chance! Only I wish it was a man. -Women are too close." Madam Spoll opened her purse and paid him. - -As Ringa left, Vixley asked: "By the way, how about this fellow Payson? -Do you think Lulu roped him?" - -"I guess so. Lulu's done pretty well lately, and she's brought me -considerable business. She ought to be here by this time." - -"I should think she'd be able to handle him alone." - -"Don't you go and tell her so! The thing for her to do is to get a -manager, but I don't intend to queer my own game." - -"What line is she workin' now? She's failed at about everything ever -since she begun with cards." - -"Oh, she's doing the 'Egyptian egg' reading. Wouldn't that freeze you? -Lord, that was out of date twenty years go; but everything goes in San -Francisco." - -"Say, ain't this town the penultimate limit!" Vixley ejaculated, -grinning. "Why, the dopes will stand in line all night for a chance to -be trimmed, and send their money by express, prepaid, if you let 'em. -Gert, sometimes I'm ashamed of myself for keepin' 'em waitin' so long! -Talk about takin' a gumdrop away from a sick baby; that's hard labor to -what we did for Bennett. What I want to know is, how do these damn -fools ever get all the money we take away from 'em? It don't look like -they had sense enough to cash a check." - -"If I had one or two more decoys as good as Ringa and Lulu Ellis, I'd be -fixed all right. I could stake out all the dopes in town. Say, -Granthope could cut up a lot of easy cash if he'd agree to stand in. I -tried to tap him about this here Payson, and he wouldn't give me a tip." - -"Perhaps he didn't know anything. You can't loosen up when you're wide -open, can you?" - -"He generally knows all there is to know. The trouble is he's getting -too high-toned. Since he fitted up his new studio and butted into -society you can't get near him with nothing like a business proposition. -I believe he thinks he's too good for this place and will go East. He's -a nice boy, though. I ain't got nothing against him, only I wish he'd -help us out. Hello, here's Lulu. Good evening, Lulu, how's Egyptian -eggs to-day?" - -Lulu Ellis was a dumpy, roly-poly, soft-eyed, soft-haired, pink-cheeked -young woman, as innocent appearing a person as ever lived on her wits. -Not that she had many of them, but a limited sagacity is enough to dupe -victims as willing to be cajoled as those who appeal to the Egyptian egg -for a sign of the future. Lulu's large, brown eyes were enough to -distract one's attention from her rule-of-thumb methods. Her fat little -hand was soft and white, her plump little body full of extravagant -curves. - -"Say, Mr. Payson has come!" she exclaimed immediately, with considerable -excitement. "He's on the third row at the far end." - -Madam Spoll became alert. "Did you see his test?" - -"No, he was here when I come," Lulu replied. - -"Go out and get Spoll." Madam Spoll spoke sharply. "We've got to fix -this thing up right now." - -Lulu returned to say: "There's such a crowd coming in he can't leave, -but he says it was a gold watch with a seal fob." - -"All right, so far," said the Madam. "Now, Lulu, are you sure of what -you told me?" - -Lulu's reply was interrupted by the entrance of Francis Granthope, in -opera hat and Inverness cape, making a vivid contrast to the -disreputable aspect of Professor Vixley. He greeted the three -conspirators with his customary elegance. - -"I'm sorry I had nothing about Payson when you rang me up, Madam Spoll, -but just afterward his daughter came in for a reading. Queer, wasn't -it?" - -"God, that's a stroke of luck!" said Vixley eagerly. "I say, Frank, you -can work her while we handle the old man, and we'll clean up a fortune. -They say he's a millionaire." Vixley's little eyes gleamed. - -"Let's hear what Lulu has to say, first," said Madam Spoll. - -"Why, I didn't get much," Lulu confessed. "He said he dropped in by -accident as he was passing by, to see what Egyptian egg astrology was. -I got his name off of some letters he had in his overcoat pocket. I made -him hang it on the hall hat-rack. I did all I could for him----" - -"Did he get gay with you?" Professor Vixley interrupted. He had been -overtly enjoying Lulu's plump charms with his rapacious eyes. - -Granthope smiled; Lulu Ellis colored slightly. - -"No, he didn't! I don't do none of that kind of work!" - -"The more fool you!" Madam Spoll retorted. "He's an old man, ain't he?" - -"Sixty," said Vixley, "I looked him up." - -"Then he ought to be easy as chewing gum," said Madam Spoll. - -Granthope lighted a cigarette and listened with a mildly cynical -expression. - -"He ain't that kind, though," Lulu insisted. "I ain't altogether a -fool, after all. Why, he don't even go to church!" - -Her three auditors laughed aloud, the Professor raucously, Madam Spoll -with a bubbling chuckle, Granthope with scarcely more than an audible -smile. - -"That settles it, then. You're coming on, Lulu! What else do you know?" -said Madam Spoll. - -"Well, he has a daughter----" - -"Yes, Granthope knows all about that," from the Madam. - -"Her name is Clytie," said Granthope. "Twenty-seven." - -"Is she a looker?" asked Vixley. - -Granthope turned to him and gave him a patronizing glance. "_You_ -wouldn't think so, Professor. She's hardly your style. But she's good -enough for me!" He languidly flipped the ash from his cigarette and -took his pose again. - -Lulu went on: "I think he had a love affair before he was married, but I -couldn't quite get it. I didn't dare to fish very much. And that's -about all I got." - -"That's plenty, Lulu. You can go now. Here's a dollar for you and much -obliged for passing him up." - -"Oh, thank you," said Lulu. "I'm afraid it ain't worth that much. He -gave me a dollar himself, though I don't charge but four bits, usually." - -"Lord, what a fool!" said Vixley, watching her go out. "That girl won't -ever get nowhere, she's too innocent. She knows no more about real life -than a boiled egg." - -"She's all right for me, though," Madam Spoll replied. "That's just the -kind I need in my business. She fools 'em every time. They ain't -nothing like a good blusher for a stool-pigeon, you take my word for it. -Lulu's all right in her place." She turned to wash her hands at a bowl -in the corner. - -"Well," said Vixley, crossing his legs, "are you coming in with us, -Frank?" - -"It looks pretty good to me, so far. But it depends. What have you got -about Payson, anyway?" Granthope's tone was languid. - -Madam Spoll winked at Vixley, as she wiped her hands behind the -palmist's back. - -"Why," Vixley replied, "Payson's in wool and is director of a bank, -besides. He's a square-head with a high forehead, and them are easy. -Gertie, here, can get him into a private sittin', and when she does, you -leave him to her--she'll find a way all right. She don't do no lumpy -work, Gertie don't, you know that, all right! When she passes him along -to me, I'll manage him like the way we worked Bennett with the real -estate. I'd like another chance as good as him." - -"You just wait," said Madam Spoll. "I got a hunch that this Payson is -going to be pretty good pie; and we got a good strong combination, -Frank, if you want to do your share." - -"It's a pity Spoll ain't got some of Gertie's gumption," said Vixley, -smiling with approval at his partner. - -"Don't you make no mistake about Spoll--he's done some good work on -Payson already." The Madam was adjusting her waist before the glass and -coquetting with her hair. "The trouble with you, Vixley, is that you -ain't got no executive ability--I'm going to organize this game myself. -I can see a way to use Spoll and Ringa, and Flora, too. We want to go -into this thing big. Payson's a keener bird than Bennett was, but -they's more in him." - -"So Spoll has begun, has he?" Granthope asked. - -"Yes. He located the Paysons over on North Beach." - -"I know that much already. The mother's dead. Mr. and Miss Payson have -traveled abroad. What else do you know about her?" - -"Why, it seems she's the sole heir. Good news for you, eh? High -society, too--Flower Mission, Kitchen Garden, Friday Cotillions, -Burlingame, everything. She could help you, Frank, if you got on the -right side of her." - -Here Mr. Spoll tiptoed in, bowed to Granthope, and said: - -"Eight o'clock, Gertie." - -Madam Spoll arose cumbrously, took a last peep in the mirror of the -folding bed and turned into the hall, saying, "You take my advice, -Frank. We depend upon you. See what you can do with the girl." She -paused to bend a keen glance upon him. "What did you do with her, -anyway?" - -"Why, I did happen on something," he answered. "Do you remember Madam -Grant, who used to live down on Fifth Street, twenty-odd years ago?" - -Madam Spoll came back into the room eagerly. - -"The crazy woman who lived so queer and yet had lots of money? Yes! -She did clairvoyance, didn't she? I remember. She had a kid with her, -too. Let's see--he ran away with the money, didn't he? And nobody ever -knew what become of him. What about her?" - -There was a duel of astute glances between them. Granthope had his own -reasons for not wanting to say too much. He guarded his secret -carefully, as he had guarded it from her for years. - -"Miss Payson used to go down to see Madam Grant with her mother, when -she was a little girl." - -"No! _did_ she, though? With her mother? That's queer! Hold on, -Vixley. What did Lulu say about a love affair before Payson was -married? Do you get that? Here's his wife visiting Madam Grant; you -remember her, don't you? There's something in that I believe we got a -good starter already." - -Spoll appeared again, anxiously beckoning, and she went with him down -the hall. - -Vixley took up the scent. "Say, Frank," he asked, "how did you happen -to get on to that, anyway? That was slick work." - -Granthope turned to him and replied patronizingly, "Oh, I ought to know -something about women by this time. I got her to talking." - -Vixley frowned, intent in thought, stroking his scant, pointed beard and -biting his mustache; then he slapped his knee with his claw-like hand. -"Say, you got a grand chance there," he exclaimed. "See here, you can -get in with the swells and be in a position to help out lots. It's the -chance of a lifetime, and we'll make it worth your while." - -"How?" Granthope inquired contemptuously. - -"By a fair exchange of information. You put us wise, and we'll put you -wise. I'll trust you to find ways of using what help we give you." He -cackled. - -"Yes--you can trust me. I think I might have some fun out of it. I -don't mind helping you out, but all I need myself is a little -imagination, some common-sense and a frock coat." - -Vixley looked at him admiringly. "I wish't I had your chance, Frank; -that's what I do. Say, you just light 'em and throw 'em away, don't -you! I s'pose if I had your looks I could do it myself." - -Granthope looked him over calmly. "There's no knowing what a bath and a -manicure and a suit of clothes would do for you, Professor." - -"You can't make brains out o' soap," retorted the medium. - -"And you can't make money out of dirt. - -"We'll see who has the money six months from now." - -"It's a fair enough bargain. I take the girl, you take the money. I'm -satisfied." Granthope arose and yawned. "Oh," he added, "did you know -Payson had a partner named Riley? He was drowned in seventy-seven." - -"That's funny. Queer how things come our way! Mrs. Riley is here in the -front room with a test. She was tried for the murder of one of her -husbands. Gert's goin' to shoot her up with it to-night. You better go -in and see the fun. She'll give it to her good." - -"I think I will," said the palmist. - -He left Vixley plunged in thought, and walked out. - -Turning into the audience-room he sat down on a chair in the rear. The -place was almost filled. His eyes scanned the assembly carefully, -roving from one spectator to another. On a side seat near him, a party -of four, young girls and men, sat giggling and chewing gum. The rest of -the company showed a placid vacancy of expression or lukewarm -expectancy. - -Madam Spoll at the organ and her husband with his violin, had, -meanwhile, been playing a dreary piece of music, "to induce the proper -conditions," as she had announced from the platform. They stopped, -retarding a minor chord, and the medium went to the table and began to -handle the tests, rearranging them, putting some aside, bringing others -forward, in an abstracted manner. Then, looking up with a -self-satisfied smile, she spoke: - -"I want to say something to the new-comers and skeptics here to-night in -explanation of these tests. Them who have thoroughly investigated the -subject and are familiar with every phase of mediumship, understand, of -course, that these objects are placed here merely to attract magnetism -to the sitter and induce the proper conditions, so that your spirit -friends will be able to communicate with you. This phase of mediumship -is called psychometry, but if I'd stop to explain just what that means, -I wouldn't have time to give any readings. Now, it won't be possible to -get any messages unless you come here in the proper mood to receive -them. You must send out your best thought and do all you can to assist, -or else my guides won't be able to establish communication on the spirit -plane. If you merely come here only to laugh and to make a scoff of the -proceedings, I'll have to ask you to leave before I begin, for they's -many here to-night who are honestly in search of the truth, seeking to -communicate with the dear, loved ones beyond on the other side." - -She passed her hand across her eyes, sighed, and fingered her chin -nervously. She poked the articles on the table again. - -"As I come on to this platform, I see an old man over there, in that -direction, what you might call a middle-aged man, perhaps, of a medium -height, and whiskers, like. I feel a condition of going on a journey, -you might say, somewhere east of here, though maybe not very far, and I -get the name John. The light goes over in your direction, lady, that one -with the red hat. Yes, you. Would that be your father, possibly?" - -The lady, straightening herself upon being thus addressed, said timidly, -"I think perhaps you mean my uncle. His name was John." - -"Maybe it is an uncle, though I get the influence of a father very -strong, too. Has your father passed out?" - -The lady in the red hat nodded. - -"Then it _is_ your father, do you see? Yes, I get an uncle, too, who -wishes to communicate, only his influence ain't strong enough. That -shows it ain't mind reading, as the newspaper folks say, don't it?" She -smiled, as if she had made a point, and the audience appeared to be -impressed. - -"About this journey, now: maybe you ain't had no idea of traveling, but -John says you will. I don't think it's liable to be very far, though. -It'll be before the last of September or the first of October and John -says it'll be successful. Do you understand what I mean?" - -The lady, frightened at the terrible import of this question, did not -speak. - -"Did you send up an article?" - -"It's that purse with the chain." - -Madam Spoll fingered it and weighed it reflectively. - -"I get a condition of what you might call inharmony. Seems to me like in -your home something is worrying you and you ain't satisfied, you -understand, with the way things are going and sometimes you feel as if, -well, you just couldn't stand it!" Her smile, now, bathed her dupe with -sympathy. - -The lady nodded vigorously, with tightly shut lips. - -"You kind of wonder if it does any good for you to go to all the trouble -you do to sacrifice yourself and try to do your duty, when it ain't what -you might call appreciated. And you're worried about money, too. Ain't -that so?" - -She received a ready assent. The woman's eyes were fixed upon her. -Every one in the room watched the stripping naked of a soul. - -"Well, John says that your father and him are helping you all they can -on the spirit plane, and he thinks conditions will be more favorable and -will take a turn for the better by the first of the year." - -A question fluttered on the woman's lips, but before it had time to -escape, Madam Spoll suddenly turned in the other direction. - -"While I was talking to that lady," she said, "I felt an influence -leading me to that corner over there by the clock, and I get the -initials 'S.F.B.' Is there anybody of that name over there?" - -A flashily dressed woman, with tinted yellow hair and rhinestone -ear-rings, raised her hand. - -"Those are my initials," she announced. - -Madam Spoll grew impressive. "Your name is Brindon, ain't it?" - -The woman gasped out a "Yes." - -"Did I ever see you before?" - -"No," said the blonde, "not to my knowledge, you didn't." - -Madam Spoll made a comprehensive gesture with both hands, calling -attention to the miracle. "You sent up a sealed ballot, didn't you?" - -The woman nodded. She was obviously excited, looking as if she feared -her skeleton was to be dragged forth from its closet; as indeed it was. - -Madam Spoll took up the envelope with her delicate thumb and forefinger -and displayed it to the audience. - -"You see, it's still sealed," she announced, then, shutting her eyes, -she continued: "My guides tell me that he's what you might call -infatuated, but he'll come back to you and say he's sorry. Do you -understand that?" - -The woman was now painfully embarrassed and shrank into her seat. The -medium, however, did not spare her. It was too good a chance for a -dramatic sensation. She tore the envelope open and read its contents -boldly: "Does he care more for Mae Phillips than he does for me?" It -was a psychological moment. The old women stared at Mrs. Brindon with -morbid delight. There was a little buzzing of whispers through the -room. Then the audience prepared itself for the next sensation. - -The medium picked up another envelope. "This is marked '275,'" she -said, then she clutched her throat. "Oh," she cried, "I'm strangling! -They's somebody here who passed out very sudden, like they was poisoned. -It's terrible. I can't answer the question the party has written -because there's an evil influence here, a wicked woman. She had three -husbands and two of 'em died suspicious. Her name is Riley. Would that -be you?" She pointed forcefully at a dried-up, old woman in a shawl, -with bleared eyes and a veined nose. - -There was no response. - -"Was this question something about your daughter?" Madam Spoll asked. - -The woman coughed and bowed, shrinking into herself. - -"I guess you better go somewhere else for your readings," Madam Spoll -declared cruelly. "Your aura don't seem to me to be very harmonious. I -don't know what's the matter to-night," she went on, passing her hand -across her forehead in apparent distress. "The conditions around me are -something horrid." Her voice rose. "There's somebody in this very room -here who has committed murder. I can't do a thing until I get that off -my mind. My guides tell me who it is, and that they'll be satisfied if -he'll acknowledge it and say he's sorry. Otherwise, this seance can't -go on." - -She stopped and glared about the hall. By this time she had worked her -audience up to an intense excitement. Every one looked at his neighbor, -wondering what was to come, but no one offered to confess to a crime. -Madam Spoll raged up and down the platform in a frenzy. Then she -stopped like an elephant at bay. - -"I know who this person is. It's a man, and if he don't rise and -acknowledge it, I shall point him out!" - -No one stirred. On the fourth seat, a clean-shaven man of thirty-five, -with sharp, aquiline features and wide-spread ears, sat, transfixed with -horror, his two hands clenched. It was Mr. Perry, the cleverest actor -in the medium's support. - -She advanced toward him as if drawn by a secret power, stared into his -eyes, and putting her hand upon his shoulder, said: - -"Thou art the man!" - -Mr. Perry wriggled out of her grasp. "See here," he cried, "you mind -your own business, will you. You're a fake! You got no right to make a -fool of me." His voice trembled, his face was a convincing mask of -guilt arraigned. - -The medium shook a warning finger at him. "You either acknowledge what -I say is true, or you leave the hall! I can't go on with you here." - -Mr. Spoll came in to stand beside her valiantly; spectators stood up to -watch the drama. Mr. Perry's eyes were wild, his face distorted; -suddenly he arose and rushed out of the room. Madam Spoll snapped her -fingers two or three times, shook herself and went back to the platform. -The murmurs died down and the seance was resumed. - -Madam Spoll waited a while in silence, then she picked up a gold watch -with a seal fob from the table. "I'm glad to feel a more peaceful -influence," she said. "I'm directed toward this watch. I don't know who -brought it up, for I was out of the room at the time, but I get the name -'Oliver.'" She looked up expectantly. - -A gentleman arose from an end seat in the third row. He had a high -domed head, partly bald, and a gray chin-beard with a shaven upper lip; -under shaggy overhanging eyebrows, cold gray eyes looked through a pair -of gold-rimmed spectacles. His air was benevolently judicial and -bespoke culture and ease. He had, moreover, a well-marked presence, as -of one used to being considered influential and prominent. A row of -false teeth glittered when he opened his mouth. - -"That's my name," he acknowledged in a deep, fluent voice that was heard -all over the room, "and that is my watch." - -Madam Spoll fixed him in the eye. "I'd like to know if I can't get your -other name. My guides are very strong to-night." After a few moments -of self-absorption, she smiled sweetly upon him. "I think I can get it -clairaudiently. Would it be Pearson?" - -"No, but that's pretty near it, though." - -"It sounds like Pearson to me, Pearson. Payson, oh, yes, it's Payson, -isn't it?" - -"That's right," he said, and sat down. - -"Did I ever see you before?" - -"Not to my knowledge, Madam." - -She looked triumphantly at her audience and smiled. - -"If they's any skeptics here to-night, I hope they'll go away -satisfied." A number of old ladies nodded emphatically. "Of course, -newspaper men never come on a night like this, when my guides are -strong. Funny what you see when you ain't got a gun, ain't it? The next -time I'm half sick and tired out, they'll be plenty of them here to say -I'm a fake, like our friend here who left so sudden, white as a sheet. -Now, when I was directed to that watch, I was conscious of a spirit -standing beside this gentleman," she pointed at him benevolently, -"influencing me to take it up. It's a woman, and she must have been -about thirty when she passed out, and remarkably handsome, too. She was -sort of fair-complected, between dark and light. I get a feeling here -in my throat and down here," she touched her breast, lightly, curving -her arm gracefully inward, "as if she went out sudden, like, with heart -disease. Do you know what I mean?" - -Mr. Payson had bent forward now. "Yes," he said, "I think I do. Has -she any message for me?" - -"Yes, she has; but--well, you see, it ain't one I'd exactly care to give -in public, and I don't think you'd want me to, either. If you come up -after the seance is over, I'll see if I can get it for you. Or you -might do still better to have a private setting and then I'll have time -to tell you more. She brings me a condition of what you might call -worry or anxiety, as if you had something on your mind." - -She turned to a bunch of flowers, and, taking them up, smelled them -thoughtfully, for a while. Mr. Payson settled back in his seat. - -As the medium commenced again, Granthope arose with his faint, cynical -smile and walked quietly out. He found Mr. Spoll at the table by the -door. - -"Well, I guess he's on the hook." The palmist buttoned his cape and -lighted a cigarette. - -"Trust Gertie for that," said Spoll; "she'll land him all right, see if -she don't. Good night!" - -Granthope turned up his collar and walked out into the street. - - - - - *CHAPTER IV* - - *THE PAYSONS* - - -Mr. Oliver Payson lived on a half-deserted street on the northerly slope -of Russian Hill, in a quarter of the town which, at one time, promised -to become a favored, if not an aristocratic residential district. But -the whim of fashion had fancied in succession Stockton Street, Rincon -Hill, Van Ness Avenue, Nob Hill, and had now settled upon the Western -Addition and the Presidio Heights. The old North Beach, with its -wonderful water and mountain view, nearer the harbor and nearer the -business part of the city, had long been neglected. The few old -families, who in early days settled on this site, still remained; and, -with the opening of new cable-car lines, found themselves, not only -within a short distance of down-town, but at the same time almost as -isolated as if they had dwelt in the country, for this part of the city -is upon none of the main routes--few frequent the locality except upon -some special errand. - -One side of the street was still unbuilt upon; on the southern side -stood three houses, each upon its fifty-vara lot, comfortably filling -the short block. That occupied by the Paysons was an old frame -structure of two stories, without attempt at ornamentation, except for -its quaint, Tudoresque pointed windows and a machicolated wooden -battlement round the flat roof. It stood on a gentle slope, surrounded -by an old-fashioned garden, which was hedged in, on either side, by rows -of cypress and eucalyptus trees, protecting it from the trade winds, -which here blow unhampered across the water. - -In front, a scene ever-changing in color as the atmospheric conditions -changed, was ranged in a semi-circular pageant, the wild panorama of San -Francisco Bay, from Point Bonita and Golden Gate in the west, past the -Marin County shore with Sausalito twinkling under the long, beautiful -profile of Mount Tamalpais, past Belvedere with its white villas, -Alcatraz and Goat Island floating in the harbor, to the foot-hills -behind Oakland and Berkeley, where, in the east, Mount Diablo's pointed -peak shimmered in the blue distance. - -In the second story of this house Clytie had a bookbinding room, where -she spent most of her spare time. It was large, bare, sunny, -impregnated with the odor of leather skins, clean and orderly. A sewing -frame and a heavy press stood behind her bench and upon a table were -neatly arranged the pages of a book upon which she was working. -Carefully placed in workmanlike precision were her knives, shears, glue -pot and gas heater and a case of stamping irons in pigeonholes. - -She was, this afternoon, in a brown gingham pinafore, with her sleeves -rolled up, seated before the table, her sensitive hands moving deftly at -the most delicate operation connected with her craft. Upon a square of -heavy plate glass, she laid a torn, ragged page, and, from several old -fly leaves, selected one that matched it in color. She cut a piece of -paper slightly larger than the missing portion, skived the edges, and -pasted it over the hole or along the frayed margin. The work was -absorbing and exacting to her eyes; to rest them, she went, from time to -time, to the window and looked out upon the bay. - -The water was gray-green streaked with a deeper blue. In the "north -harbor" two barks lay at anchor in the stream and ferry-boats plied the -fairway. In and out of the Gate there passed, at intervals, tugs with -sailing ships bound out with lumber or in with nitrates, steamers to -coast ports, or liners from overseas, rusty, weather-beaten tramps, -strings of heavy-going barges, lusty little tugs, lumber schooners -wallowing through the tide rip, Italian fishing smacks, lateen-rigged -with russet sails, saucy launches, and, at last, the magnificent bulk of -a white battleship sliding imperiously into the roadstead along the -waterfront. - -At four o'clock Clytie's mind seemed to wander from her occupation, and -now, when she ceased and looked out of the window, her abstracted gaze -was evidently not directed at what she saw. Her mental vision, rather, -seemed alert. Her slender golden eyebrows drew closer together, her -narrow, sharp nostrils dilated; her lips, half open, inhaled deep, -unconscious breaths. The pupils of her eyes contracted like a cat's in -the light. Then she shook herself, passed her hand over her forehead, -shrugged her shoulders and resumed her work. - -A little later this performance was repeated; this time, after her -momentary preoccupation, she rose more briskly, put her tools away, laid -her book carefully aside and took off her pinafore. After washing her -hands she went into her own room on the same floor. She went -down-stairs ten minutes after, in a fresh frock, her hair nicely -arranged, radiating a faint perfume of violet water. She opened the -front door and walked slowly down the path to the gate where the wall, -though but waist-high on the garden side, stood high above the sidewalk. -Here she waited, touching the balustrade delicately with her -outstretched fingers, as if playing upon a piano. The breeze loosened -the severity of her coiffure, which relaxed into slight touches of -curling frivolity about her ears and neck. Her pink frock billowed out -into flowing, statuesque folds as she stood, like a figurehead, gazing -off at the mountains. Her mouth was set into a shape not quite a smile, -a queer, tremulously subtle expression of suspense. She kept her eyes -in the direction of Hyde Street. - -It was not long before a man turned the corner and walked briskly toward -her. He looked up at the first house on the block, searching for the -number; then, as his eyes traveled along to the next gate, he caught -sight of her. Instantly his soft felt hat swung off with a quick -flourish and he sent her a pleased smile. - -"Here I am, Mr. Granthope!" Clytie called down to him, and on the -instant her face was suffused with pink. She had evidently expected -him, but now she appeared as agitated as if his coming had surprised -her. - -He ran up the flight of wooden steps, his eyes holding hers all the way. -His dark, handsome face glowed; he abounded with life and spirit as he -stood before her, hand outstretched. In the other, he held a small -leather-bound book. - -"Good afternoon, Miss Payson!" he said heartily. He shook hands eagerly, -his touch, even in that conventional greeting, consciously managed; the -grasp was sensitive and he delayed its withdrawal a suggestive second, -his dark eyes already at work upon hers. "How lucky I was to catch you -out here!" he added, as he dropped her hand. - -"Oh, I've been expecting you for some time," Clytie replied, retreating -imperceptibly, as from an emotional attack, and turning away her eyes. - -He noticed her susceptibility, and modified his manner slightly. - -"Why! You couldn't possibly have known I was coming?" - -"But I did! Does that surprise you? I told you I had intuitions, you -know. You came to bring my ring, didn't you?" - -"Yes, of course. You really have second-sight, then?" He looked at her -as one might look at a fairy, in amusement mingled with admiration. - -"Yes--haven't _you_?" She put it to him soberly. - -"Haven't I already proved it?" His eyes, well-schooled, kept to hers -boldly, seeking for the first sign of her incredulity. Into his manner -he had tried to infuse a temperamental sympathy, establishing a personal -relation. - -She did not answer for a moment, gazing at him disconcertingly; then her -eyes wandered, as she remarked: "You certainly proved something, I don't -quite know what." - -He laughed it off, saying: "Well, I've proved at least that I wanted to -see you again, and made the most of this excuse." - -"Yes, I'm glad I forgot the ring. I'm really very glad to see you, -too--I half hoped I might. Won't you come up to my summer-house? It's -not so windy there, and we can talk better." - -He accepted, pleased at the invitation and the implied promise it held, -and followed her up the path and off toward the line of trees. The -place was now visited by belated sunshine which compensated for the -sharp afternoon breeze. In the shelter of the cypress hedge the air was -warm and fragrant. Here was an arbor built of withe crockery crates -overgrown with climbing nasturtiums; it contained a seat looking -eastward, towards Telegraph Hill. In front stood a sun-dial mounted on -a terra cotta column, beneath a clump of small Lombardy poplars. - -As she seated herself she pointed to it. "Did you know that this is a -sort of cemetery? That sun-dial is really a gravestone. When I was a -little girl I buried my doll underneath it. She had broken open, -letting the sawdust all out, and I thought she must be dead. It may be -there now, for all I know; I never dug her up." - -He looked over at the shaft, saying, "A very pretty piece of symbolism. -I suppose I have buried illusions, myself, somewhere." - -She thought it over for a moment, and apparently was pleased. "I'd like -to dig some of them up," she said at last, turning to him, with the slow -movement of her head that was characteristic of her. - -"Haven't you enough left?" - -She started to reply, but evidently decided not to say what she had -intended, and let it drop there, her thought passing in a puzzling smile -as she looked away again. - -He had laid his book beside him upon the bench, and, when her eyes came -back, she took it up and looked at it. A glance inside showed it to be -an old edition of Montaigne. She smiled, her eyes drifted to him with a -hint of approval for his taste, then she turned her interest to the -binding. As she fingered the leather, touching the tooled surfaces -sensitively, her curiosity did not escape his sharp eyes, watching for -anything that should be revelatory. - -She explained: "I have a technical interest in bindings. I do some of -that work myself. It's curious that I happened to be at work to-day on -an old copy of Montaigne. I'm rebinding it for my father's birthday. -You'd never think my hands were of any practical use, would you?" - -He laughed. "Inconsistencies like that are what baffles one most, -especially when one knows that most characters are inconsistent. But we -professionals have to go by general rules. I should expect you to be an -exception to all of them, though." - -He watched her surreptitiously, noting her diminishing color, the -evasion of her glance, and the air of self-consciousness with which she -spoke, as they talked for a while of obvious things--the weather, the -view, and the picturesque, old-fashioned garden. She had taken the ring -and had put it upon her finger, keeping her eyes on its turquoises. Her -whole demeanor ministered to his vanity, already pleased by her frank -welcome. He was used enough to women's interest and admiration for him -to expect it and play upon it, but this was of a shyer and more elusive -sort; it seemed to hold something more seriously considered, it baffled -him, even as he enjoyed its unction. Besides all this, too, there was a -secret romantic charm in the fact that they had shared together that -vivid experience of the past. He came back for another draught of -flattery. - -"It was odd that you expected me, wasn't it?" he said. "I can't help -wondering about it." - -She had her eyes upon the Sausalito boat, which was weaving a trailing -web of foam past Alcatraz Island. At his words, she turned to him with -the same slow seriousness as before and replied: - -"I shouldn't think it would seem so remarkable to you, your own power is -so much more wonderful." - -"Perhaps so in that one case, but you know I don't, ordinarily, claim -clairvoyance. It's only occasionally, as the other day with you, that I -attempt it." - -Her eyes awakened; she said earnestly, "Was I really able to bring that -out in you?" - -He caught at the hint. "Why, what else could it be but your magnetism? -It was the more strange because I had never seen you before." - -The glow faded, and she relaxed her nervous energy. "Ah, hadn't you? I -wonder!" - -"Why, had you ever seen me before that day?" - -"I think so. At least you seem, somehow, familiar." - -"When was it, and where, then?" - -She seemed too puzzled to answer, or fatigued with following an -intangible thread of thought. As she spoke, slowly, intensely, her -hands made large, vague gestures, often pausing in mid air, as her voice -paused, waiting for the proper word to come. "I don't know. It only -seems as if I had been with you--or near you, or something--I don't know -what. It's like a dream--or a story I can't quite recall, only--" she -did not finish the sentence. - -He wondered what her game could be. Fundamentally cynical, though he -never permitted it to show in his manner, he distrusted her claims to -prevision. There was, after all, nothing in Miss Payson's words that -might not be accounted for by what he knew of the wiles of feminine -psychology. His training had taught him how much a baseless hint, -injected at the proper moment, could accomplish in the masquerade of -emotions and the crafty warfare of the sexes. That he and she had been -actors together in a past uncomprehended scene, he regarded as a mere -coincidence of which he had already made good use; he refused to connect -it with her suggestive remark, for he was sure that she must have been -unaware of his presence in Madam Grant's room that day, so long ago. It -seemed to him more likely that, woman-fashion, she had shot into the air -and had brought down an unsuspected quarry. And yet, even as a -coincidence, he could not quite dismiss the strangeness of it from his -mind. - -He was preparing to turn it to a sentimental advantage, when Clytie, who -had relapsed into silence, suddenly aroused herself with one of those -impulsive outbursts which were characteristic of her. - -"There is something about it all that is stranger still, I think!" - -Her golden brows had drawn together, separated by two vertical lines, as -she gazed at him. Then with a little jet of fervor, she added: - -"I'm afraid I know too much about you, Mr. Granthope! It's somewhat -embarrassing, really. It doesn't seem quite fair, you know." - -"I'm not quite sure that I understand." - -"Oh, you know! You must know!" - -He laughed. "Really, Miss Payson, it's very flattering, of course--" - -"Oh, no, it's not in the least flattering." - -"I wish you'd explain, then." He leaned back, folded his arms and -waited indulgently. So long as he could keep the conversation personal, -he was sure of being able to manage her, and further his own ends. It -amused him. - -She busied herself with a lace handkerchief as she continued, in a low -voice, as if she were ridding herself of a disagreeable task, and always -with the slow, monotonous turning of her questing eyes toward him, and -away. "Of course I've heard many things about you--you're a good deal -talked about, you know; but it's not that at all--it's an instinctive -knowledge I have about you. I can't explain it. It's a queer special -feeling--almost as if, in some way, I had the right to know. That's why -I wanted to see you again--I hoped you'd come. I wanted to tell you." - -"But all that certainly is flattering," he said. "I wouldn't be human -if I weren't pleased to hear that you're interested, even if--" - -She could not help breaking into smiles again, as she interrupted him. - -"Oh, but I haven't told you yet." - -"Please do, then!" - -"It sounds so foolish when I say it--so priggish! But it's this: I don't -at all approve of you. Why in the world should I care? I don't know. -It isn't my business to reform you, if you need it." Now she had -brought it out, she could not look at him. - -Curiously enough, though he had been amused at her assumption of a -circumstantial knowledge of him, this hinted comprehension of his -character, of the duplicity of his life, if it were that, impressed him -with the existence in her mind of some quality as rare and mysterious as -electricity, a real psychic gift, perhaps. It gave him an instant's -pause. Instinctively he feared a more definite arraignment. He began a -little more seriously, now, to match his cleverness against her -intuition; and, for the first defense, he employed a move of masculine -coquetry. - -"You have been thinking of me, then?" - -"Yes," she replied simply, "I have thought about you a good deal since I -was in your studio. But I suppose you're used to hearing things like -that from women." She was apologetic, rather than sarcastic. - -He shrugged his shoulders. He seemed to be able to make no way against -her directness. "I've thought not a little of you, too, Miss Payson. -You are wonderfully psychic and sensitive. I think you should develop -your power--you might be able to do extraordinary things with it. I -wish you'd let me help you. That is," he added humorously, "if I'm not -too far gone in your disapproval." - -"Oh, the disapproval--I call it that for want of a better word--isn't so -important as the fact that I should feel it at all, don't you see? You -remember that you told me I was the kind of a woman who, if she liked a -man, would tell him so, freely. That is true. I would scorn to stoop -to the immemorial feminine tricks. I do like you, and in spite of what -I can't quite explain, too. I don't know why, either. It seems as if -it's a part of that other feeling I've mentioned--that I've been with -you, or near you, before." - -He leaned forward to extort more of this delicious confession from her. -"Do you mean spiritually, or merely physically near?" - -"Oh, I don't mean an 'elective affinity' or anything so occult as that," -she laughed. "Indeed, I don't quite know what I do mean--it's all so -vague. I can't formulate it. It escapes me when I try. But I did -know, for instance, quite definitely, that I'd see you again. I tell -you about it only because I think that you, with your power in that way, -may be able to understand it and explain it to me." - -He thought he saw his chance, now, and instinctively he began to pose, -letting his eyes deepen and burn on her. He nodded his head and said -impressively: - -"Yes. I have felt it, too, Miss Payson. It's wonderful to think that -you should have recognized me and understood me so well. No one ever -has before. We are related by some tie--I'm sure we've met before, -somewhere, somehow--" - -She jumped up and stood before him, her hands tightly held, her lips -pressed together. For a moment, so, she looked hard at him; then what -there had been of anger in her gaze softened to something like sadness -or pity. - -"_That's_ what I meant!" - -He misunderstood her remark and her attitude and went still farther -astray from her meaning. - -"You are not like any other woman I have ever known," he said, in the -same soulful way. - -"Why can't you be honest with me!" she broke out. She was astonishingly -alive now; there was no trace of her former languor. He winced at -realizing, suddenly, and too late, that he had made a false step. - -"Why do you make me regret having been frank?" she went on, with a -despairing throb in her voice. "You have almost succeeded in making me -ashamed of myself, already. _That_ is just what I disapprove of in you. -Don't imagine that you can ever deceive me with such sentimentality. I -shall always know when you're straightforward and simple. That's what -I've been trying to make you understand--that I _do_ know!" - -She turned slowly away from him, almost hopelessly. For a moment she -remained immobile, then before he had recovered his wits, she had -modified the situation for him. Her eyes drifted back to his as she -remarked thoughtfully: - -"I am sure, too, that you could help me, if you would." - -"How?" He tried to pull himself together. - -"Merely by being honest with me." - -He raised his eyebrows. - -"Oh, I know that's a good deal to ask," she laughed. - -"Of me?" - -"Of any one." - -"I'll try, Miss Payson," he said, not too seriously. "But you've -frightened me. I don't dare think too hard about anything, you're such -a witch." - -She released him graciously and keyed down to an easier tone. - -"You must forgive me if I've been too frank, Mr. Granthope, but this -interview is almost like a first meeting, and you know how much one is -apt to say in such a situation. Let's not continue the discussion--I'm -embarrassed enough already. I know I shall regret what I've said. -We'll talk of something pleasanter. Tell me about that pretty girl in -your office." - -"Oh!" he exclaimed, and his tone was as if he had said, "Aha!" He -wondered if it were possible that, after all, it was only this which had -moved her to speak. - -Clytie frowned, but if she read his thought, she let it go unchallenged. - -"She's an original little thing; I like her," she added. - -"You do?" he said mischievously exaggerating his surprise. - -"Yes, I do. Don't think I'm trying to patronize her, but she's a -dear--and she's very pretty." - -"Do you think so? I shall have to tell her that. She's pretty enough, -at least, to have been on the stage. She was in vaudeville for a couple -of years. I first got acquainted with her at the Orpheum. I've known -her a long time. She's a great help and a great comfort to me, and a -very clever girl." - -"How long has she been your assistant?" - -"Two years." - -"And you haven't fallen in love with her yet?" - -Granthope was relieved. He was sure now that she was, if not jealous, -suspicious of his relations with Fancy. It was not the first time he -had encountered such insinuations. - -"Oh, not in the least," he said. "I can give you my word as to that. I -don't think it ever occurred to me--though I'd do anything in the world -for her." - -"And I suppose you're as sure of her immunity?" - -"Why, of course," said Granthope, and in his tone there was the ring of -masculine assurance. - -Clytie smiled and shook her head. "There are some things men never can -know, no matter how clairvoyant they are," she said, looking away. - -He did not follow this up, but arose to leave. "I'm afraid you have a -very poor opinion of me, Miss Payson," he said, "but I do feel -complimented by your frankness. Perhaps I shall merit it--who knows?" -It was his turn to address the distance, and, in spite of his -consciousness of an histrionic effect, his own words sounded curiously -in his ears; they seemed premonitory. He shook himself free from her -influence again. She had controlled the situation from the first word; -he had only made a series of mistakes. It all confirmed his first -estimate of her: that she was very well worth his while, but that her -capture would be difficult. - -Clytie, too, had arisen. Her mood had lightened, and her sense of humor -had returned. "I hope I haven't been either tragic or absurd," she -said, smiling. "I'm not always so serious, Mr. Granthope. The next -time I meet you I'll probably be more conventional." - -"Then I may see you again?" - -"I doubt if you can help it." - -"I shall certainly not try to!" Then he paused. "You mean--?" - -"Yes!" - -There was something delightful to him in this rapid transfer of wordless -thought. It again established an intimacy between them. That she -acknowledged such a relation by anticipating another meeting, an -inevitable one, charmed him the more. He might win, after all, with -such assistance from her. Her power of intuition aroused his -curiosity--he longed to experiment with it. She was a new plaything -which he had yet to learn to handle. Before, he had dominated her -easily enough; he might do so again. - -"Miss Payson," he said, "won't you come down to my studio again -sometime? I'd like to make a more careful examination of your hand, and -perhaps I can help you in developing your psychic sense." - -"Oh, no, thank you. Really, I can't come again--I shall be pretty busy -for a while--I have to go to the Mercantile Library every afternoon, -looking up material for my father's book--and, after all, I got what I -wanted." - -"What did you want?" - -"Partly to see you." - -He bowed. "Curiosity?" - -"Let's call it interest." - -"You had no faith, then, in my palmistry?" - -"Very little." - -"Yet you acknowledge that I told you some things that were true?" - -"Haven't I told you several things about yourself, too?" - -"I'd like to hear more." - -"Oh, I've said too much, already." - -"Let's see. That I am more or less of a villain--" - -"But a most interesting one!" - -"That I have met you before--" - -"Not perhaps 'met'--" - -"That Fancy Gray is in love with me--" - -"Oh, I didn't say that!" - -"But you suspect it?" - -"If I did, it was impertinent of me. It's none of my business." - -"Well, you won't come again--you've quite satisfied your curiosity by -seeing me?" - -"Quite. I've confirmed all my suspicions." - -"What were they?" - -Clytie laughed. "Really, you're pushing me a little too hard, Mr. -Granthope. I'd be glad to have you call here, sometime, if you care to. -But my psychic powers are quite keen enough already. They rather -frighten me. I want them only explained. As I say, it's embarrassing, -sometimes. I hate to speak of what I feel--it's all so groundless and -it sounds silly." - -"You know more, then, than you mention?" - -"Oh, much!" - -"About me, for instance?" - -"Yes. But it's vague and indefinite. It needn't worry you." - -"Even though you disapprove?" - -She laughed again. "You may take that as a compliment, if you like." - -He nodded. "It is something that you care." - -"I'm mainly curious to see what you'll do--" - -"Oh, you're expecting something, then?" - -"I'm watching to see. I confess I shall watch you. I said that you -interested me--that's what I mean. You're going to--well, change." - -As she stood between him and the light her soft hair showed as fine and -crisp as spun glass. Her lips were sensitively curved with a flitting -smile, her eyes were dreamy again. Everything about her bespoke a high -spiritual caste, but, to Granthope, this only accented the desirability -of her bodily self--it would make her the greater prize, unlike anything -he had, so far, been able to win. He had an epicure's delight in -feminine beauty, and he knew how its flavor should be finely tinctured -by mind and soul; even beauty was not exciting without that, and of mere -beauty he had his fill. Besides, she had unexpected reserves of emotion -that he was continually tempted to arouse. But so far he had hopelessly -misplayed his part, and he longed to prove his customary skill with -women. - -"Well," he said finally, offering his hand, "I hope I'll be able to -satisfy you, sooner or later. I'll come, soon, for a report!" - -"Oh, my mood may have changed, by that time." - -He gave her the farewell amenities and went down the path to the gate. -There he turned and saw her still watching him. He waved his hat and -went down the steps, his mind restless with thoughts of her. - -Clytie remained a while in the arbor. The fog had begun to come in now -with a vanguard of light fleecy clouds riding high in the air, closing -the bay in from all sides. The massive bank behind followed slowly, -tinted with opal and rose from the setting sun. It settled down, -shutting out her sight of the water, and its cohorts were soon scurrying -past her on their charge overland from ocean to harbor. The siren at -Point Bonita sighed dismally across the channel. It soon grew too cold -to remain longer in the garden, and she went into the house shivering, -lighted an open fire in the library and sat down. - -For half an hour she sat there in silence, inert, listless, lost in -thought, her eyes on the blurred landscape mystic with driving fog. The -room grew darker, illuminated only by the fitful flashes of the fire. -Her still, relaxed figure, fragile and delicate as an ivory carving, was -alternately captured and hidden by the shadow and rescued and restored -by the sudden gleam from the hearth. She had not moved when her -father's step was heard in the hall. He came in, benignly sedate. His -deep voice vibrated through the room. - -"Well, Cly, dreaming again?" - -She started at the sound and came out of her reverie to rise and greet -him affectionately. He put down some books and a package of papers and -lighted the chandelier, exchanging commonplaces with her--of her -bookbinding work, which she confessed to have shirked; of the weather, -with a little of old age's querulous complaint of rheumatic touches; of -the black cat, which was their domestic fetish and (an immortally -interesting topic to him) of the vileness and poisonous quality of San -Francisco illuminating gas. His voice flowed on mellifluously with -unctuous authority, as he seated himself in his arm-chair beneath the -lamp, shook out his evening paper and rattled its flapping sheets. - -Clytie evinced a mild interest in his remarks, smiled gently at his -familiar vagaries, answering when replies should be forthcoming, in her -low, even, monotonously pitched tones. She questioned him perfunctorily -about the book he was writing, an absorbing avocation with him, warding -off his usual disappointment at her lack of sympathy by involving -herself in a conversational web of explanation regarding Foreign Trade -Expansion, Reciprocal Profits and The Open Door in the Orient. - -"There's not much use working on it at the office," he concluded. "I'm -too liable to interruptions." - -"Who interrupted you to-day?" she asked. - -"Oh, there was a queer chap in this afternoon, an insurance solicitor; -Wooley, his name was. I told him I didn't want an accident policy, but -I happened to tell him about that time on the Oakland Mole, when I got -caught between two trains in the Fourth of July crush--you remember? and -he told me about all the narrow escapes he ever heard of, trying to get -me to go into his company. Funny dog he was. He kept me laughing and -talking with him for an hour. Then Blanchard came in. He says he's -coming around to-night." He hesitated and scanned her intently through -his gold-bowed glasses, under his bushy brows. "I hope you will treat -him well, Cly." - -Her face grew serious and her sensitive lips quivered, as she said: - -"Why do you like Mr. Cayley so much, father?" - -"Why, he's a very intelligent fellow, Cly; I don't know of another young -man of his age who is really worth talking to. He knows things. He has -a broad outlook and a serious mind. He's the kind of young man we need -to take hold of political and commercial reform. I tell you, the -country is going to the dogs for lack of men who are interested in -anything outside of their own petty concerns. Why, he's the only one I -know who really seems interested in oriental trade and all its -development means to the Pacific slope. That's remarkable, considering -he isn't himself connected with any commercial enterprise. I don't know -what I'd do if I didn't have him to discuss my subject with. He seems -to be genuinely interested in it. I wish you were as much so, Cly!" - -Clytie turned away, smiling somewhat ironically, an uncommon expression -for her engaging features. - -"You know," she said slowly, "that I don't quite trust him." - -"Why, you two have been friends long enough, you should know him better -by this time. You're intimate enough with him." - -"Oh, it's only a feeling I have. You know I have my intuitions--but -what friendship there is has been of his seeking." - -"He's all right, Cly," her father said dictatorially. "I haven't lived -in the West for fifty years without knowing something of men. I do want -you to learn to appreciate him. He's got a future before him and he is -certainly fond of you. You know, if anything did come of it, I would--" - -Clytie arose abruptly. "I think dinner's almost ready, father, and I'm -hungry. Are you ready?" - -She was imperious, holding her tawny head erect, her chin high, her -hands clasped behind her back, the willowy suppleness of her body now -grown rigid. Mr. Payson sighed resignedly, and allowed a moment's -silence to speak for him; then, finding that his daughter's attitude -continued to dominate the situation, he, too, arose, patted her cheek -and shook his head. This pantomime coaxed forth a gracious smile from -her. He took his manuscripts and left to go up to his room. Clytie -remained at the window till he returned. - -They had nearly finished their dinner, when, after a casual dialogue, -she remarked, without looking at him: - -"Father, do you remember anything about an old crazy woman who lived -down south of Market Street somewhere, years ago--in a cheap hotel, I -think it was?" - -He started at her question and his voice, ordinarily so calm and so -mellow, quavered slightly. - -"What do you mean? Who was she?" he asked earnestly. - -"That's what I want to know," Clytie said, stirring her coffee. - -"What do you know about her?" - -"Why--I went to see her once." - -"_You_ went to see her? When?" - -"Then you _did_ know her!" - -Mr. Payson spoke cautiously, watching his daughter. "I have heard about -her, yes, but I never knew you had been there. How in the world did -that happen? It must have been a long time ago." He stared as if he -could scarcely believe her assertion. - -"Mother took me there once or twice. It's almost the first thing I -remember." - -"She did? She never told me! It's strange you have never mentioned it -before." - -"Perhaps I oughtn't to mention it now. I thought, somehow, that she -wouldn't want me to tell you about it." - -His tone now was disturbed, anxious, pitched in a higher key. - -"Why shouldn't you speak of it? What difference could it possibly make? -I remember that woman, yes. She was not old, though. Do you recall her -well? You were very young then." - -"I can almost see her now. She had white hair and black eyebrows, with -a vertical line between them; she was pale, but with bright red lips. -She wore a strange red gown. I think she must have been very beautiful -at one time. Who was she, father?" Clytie sent a calm, level glance at -him. - -"Oh, she was a friend of your mother's. Your mother and I used to keep -track of her and help her, that's all." - -"Was she poor, then?" - -"No, she wasn't. That was the queer part of it. She had considerable -ability and actually carried on a real estate business, though she was -pretty mad. She had lucid intervals, though, when she was as reasonable -as any one." - -"What became of her?" - -"She died, I think, of heart disease. It must have been the same year -your mother died, if I remember rightly." - -"What was her name?" - -Mr. Payson grew more nervous at this questioning, but he replied, "They -called her Madam Grant, I believe. How did you happen to bring up the -subject after all these years, Cly?" - -It was her turn to be embarrassed. "Well--I've recalled that scene -occasionally, and wondered about it--it has always been a mystery I -couldn't explain, and I never dared talk about it. Of course, it's only -one of those vivid early pictures of childhood, but it has always seemed -very romantic." - -"It was a strange situation," Mr. Payson replied. "She was a very -unfortunate woman and I was sorry for her. I never would have permitted -you to go, if I had known, of course, but perhaps your mother knew -best." He dropped his chin upon his hand. "Yes, I'm glad you went, -now. What impression did she make on you?" - -"I only remember thinking how beautiful she must have been." - -"Yes," Mr. Payson's voice was almost inaudible. He pushed his chair -back, rose and went into the library. Clytie followed him. - -"Are you going out to-night, father?" - -"Yes, I've got some business to attend to." - -"In the evening?" she raised her brows. - -"Oh, I'm only looking up something--for my book." He turned away to -avoid her gaze. - -"Oh!" She sat down and took up a book without questioning him further. -Soon after, the front doorbell rang and Mr. Cayley was shown in by the -Chinese servant. - -Blanchard Cayley was well known about town, for he had a place in many -different coteries. By his birth he inherited a position in a select -Southern set that had long monopolized social standing and looked -scornfully down upon the upstart railroad aristocracy and that _nouveau -riche_ element which was prominent chiefly through the notoriety -conferred by the newspapers. Blanchard Cayley's parts gained him the -entree, besides, to less conventional circles, where his wit and -affability made him a favorite. He belonged to two of the best clubs, -but his inclinations led him to dine usually at French or Italian -restaurants, where good-fellowship and ability distinguished the -company. He wrote a little and knew the best newspaper men and all the -minor poets in town. He drew a little, and was familiar with all the -artists. He accounted himself a musical critic and cultivated -composers. He knew San Francisco like a rat, knew it as he knew the -intricacies of French forms of verse, as well as he knew the -architecture of music and the history of painting. He had long ceased -his nocturnal meanderings "down the line" from the Hoffman Bar to Dunn's -saloon, but he occasionally took a post-graduate course, of sorts, to -see whether, for the nonce, the city was wide open or shut. He had -discovered the Latin Quarter, now well established as a show-place for -jaded pleasure-seekers, and had played _bocce_ with the Italians in the -cellars of saloons, before the game was heard of by Americans. He had -found the marionette theater in its first week, traced every one of -Stevenson's haunts before the Tusitala had died in Samoa, knew the -writings of "Phoenix" almost by heart, and had devoured half the -Mercantile Library. Tar Flat and the Barbary Coast he knew as well as -the Mission and North Beach, and as for Chinatown, he had ransacked it -for queer jars, jade and hand-made jewelry, exhausting its possibilities -long before San Franciscans had realized the presence, in that quarter, -of anything but an ill-smelling purlieu of tourists' bazaars. - -He had "discovered" women as well--women, for the most part, whose -attractions few other persons seemed to appreciate. His last find was -Clytie Payson--a much more valuable tribute to his taste than any -heretofore. He had devoted himself assiduously to her, and it was his -boast that he could remember the hat she wore when he first saw her, ten -years before. His pursuit of her had been eccentric. Cayley was -mathematical and his methods were built upon a system. During the first -years of their acquaintance he alternated months of neglect with -picturesque arrivals on nights so tempestuous and foul that his presence -would be sure to be counted as a flattering tribute, and would outweigh, -with his obvious devotion, the previous languor of his pursuit. This -was a fair sample of the subtlety of his psychological amours, for -Blanchard Cayley was not of the temperament to run across the room and -kiss a girl with verve and ardor. He led, however, an intense mental -life; there he was a creature of enthusiasms and contempts, capable of -no intermediate emotion. - -What else was true of his character it would be necessary to determine -from the several ladies of his choice whom he kept carefully apart, -recipients of his subdivided confidence. Blanchard Cayley did not -introduce female contemporaries. - -He wore a carefully trimmed, reddish, Vandyke beard, with a drooping -mustache; his hair curled a bit effeminately. Large blue eyes, the -well-developed nose of the hobbyist, hands of a sixteenth-century -gentleman, aristocratic, well-kept, soft. To-night he was in -half-dress--dinner jacket and gold studs, an inch wide stripe upon his -trousers--this under a yellow mackintosh and cricket cap, in strict -accordance with his own ideas of form. - -Mr. Payson was in the library still busy with his manuscript when he -entered. The two shook hands. Blanchard's manner had in it something of -a survival of the old school. He was never awkward, yet never -bombastic. Suave, rather, with a semi-humorous touch that relieved his -courtesy of anything solemn. He smiled, showing his teeth, saying, with -an appearance of great interest, - -"Well, Mr. Payson, I see you're still at it. How's _The Open Door in -the Orient_?" - -"Oh, getting on," said Mr. Payson. "I want to read you my last chapter -when I get a chance. I think you'll like it." - -Cayley had been successful in appearing to listen, and at the same time -pay his respects to Clytie, whose hand he did not let go without a -personal pressure in addition to the visible greeting. He kept it an -unpleasant half-second longer than had Granthope. She freed herself with -a slight gesture of discomfort. "Perhaps I'd better go up-stairs and -leave you men alone to talk it over," she suggested. - -"Certainly not," said her father. "I'll wait until some other time, -only I thought Blanchard would be interested." - -"Indeed, I am," Cayley protested. "I'm very anxious to hear your -opinion about gold, too. I have something to suggest, myself. Oh!" He -delved into his breast pocket. "Here are some notes on the history of -the trade dollar, Mr. Payson. You know I was speaking of it. I've been -looking up the subject at the mint and at the library for you; I think -it might give you some ideas." - -Mr. Payson took the paper eagerly and pushed up his spectacles to -examine it. "Thank you; thank you very much. I'll be glad to look it -over. It's a pleasure to find any one nowadays who's so interested in -what is going to be a very vital question. You'll find my cigars here, -somewhere. Cly, you go and find the box, won't you?" - -As Clytie disappeared in the direction of the dining-room, he added, -"You must humor her, Blanchard, she's a bit skittish. Don't force her -hand and I think you'll bring her around." - -"Thanks for the tip, but I have my idea," was the reply. "It's only a -question of time when I shall be able to produce the psychological -condition I want." - -Mr. Payson shook his head dubiously. "I don't know. That isn't the way -we went about it when I was young. We didn't bother much with -psychology then. We had emotions to attend to." - -"Oh, love-making is just as much a science as anything else, and there -is no reason why it shouldn't progress. There are modern methods, you -know; it's only a form of hypnotism." He smiled blandly. - -When he and Clytie were alone--a situation she seemed to delay as much -as possible--Cayley sat down opposite her with an ingratiating, -disarming smile. He was neither eager nor impressive. He was sure of -himself. It did not, as he had said, seem to matter a great deal about -her emotions; he scarcely considered her otherwise than as a mind whose -defenses he was to overthrow in an intellectual contest. He began with -elaborate circumlocution. - -"Well, I've discovered something." - -Her delicate eyebrows rose. - -"It is a curious botanical fact that there are four thousand lamp-posts -in the city of San Francisco." - -"Why botanical?" - -"That is just what I expected you to ask." - -"Then I'll not ask it." She was already on the defense. - -"But you did!" - -"Well?" She appeared to resent his tone. - -"Now, see here!" He laid his right forefinger to his left palm. -"Suppose a Martian were visiting the earth. He wouldn't at first be -able to distinguish the properties of things. So, seeing these four -thousand lamp-posts, he might consider them as a part of the Terrene -flora--queer trees." - -It was like a game of chess, and it was evident that she could not -foresee his next move. The detour was too complicated. She seemed, by -her attitude, to be on her guard, but allowed him, with a nod of assent, -to proceed. - -"Now, suppose you have the Martian, or let us call it the uncorrelative -point of view. Suppose you use brain-cells that have hitherto been -quiescent or undeveloped." - -"I don't exactly follow." Her attention wandered. - -He probed it. "Suppose I should get up and kiss you." - -She awoke suddenly. - -"You see what I mean now?" he continued. "You exploded a new cell then. -You gained a new point of view with regard to me. Don't be afraid. I'm -not going to kiss you." - -"Indeed, you're not!" Her alarm subsided; her resentment, rising to an -equal level, was drawn off in a smile at the absurdity of the -discussion. - -He went on: "But you must acknowledge that I have, at least, produced a -psychological condition. I'm going to use that new cell again." He -waited for her answer. - -"Dear me!" she exclaimed at last. "We're getting very far away from the -lamp-posts. I'm quite in the dark." - -He proceeded: "My character is lighted by four thousand lamp-posts -also." - -"Ah, I see! You want me to regard them as botanical facts. I, as a -supposititious Martian, with this wonderful new cell, am to perceive in -you something that is not true?" - -"No, for in Mars, the lamp-posts, we will suppose, _are_ vegetables--not -mechanical objects." - -"A little more light from the lamp-posts, please." - -"They are emotions, alive and growing. They have heat as well as light, -in spite of their subtleties. I want you to perceive the fact that my -methodical nature shows that I have a determined, potent stimulus--that -I have energy--that I am in earnest." - -She seemed to sniff the danger now and stood at gaze. He went on: - -"I shall keep at the attempt until you do look at me in this way--till -I've educated these dormant cells." - -"If you are leading up to another proposal," Clytie said, "I must say I -admire your devotion to method, but it is time thrown away." - -He took this calmly enough. He took everything calmly; but he did not -abate his persistence. "I'm not leading up to a proposal so much as I -am to an acceptance." - -Clytie shrugged her shoulders. "You'll be telling me you're in love -with me next." - -"Do you doubt it?" - -"A half-dozen proposals have not convinced me." - -"Seven," he corrected. "This is the eighth." - -"How long do you intend to keep it up?" - -"Until I produce in your mind a psychological condition which will -convince you that I'm in earnest, that I am sincere, that I am the man -for you. Then I shall produce an emotional reflex--it's sure to follow. -It may come to-night and it may come next year. Sooner or later -circumstances will bring about this crystallization. Some shock may -help; it may be a simple growth. I am sure to win you in the long run. -I'm bound to have you, and I will, if I have to make a hundred attempts. -You can't dismiss me, for I'm an old friend and you need me. I have -educated you, I have broadened your horizon. You see, I am playing with -my cards on the table." - -"But without trumps." Clytie stifled a yawn. - -"Meaning, I suppose, that I have no heart? Clubs may do. I rely upon -your atavism." - -"I suppose you have as much heart as can be made out of brain." - -"What if I say that I'm jealous? Will that prove that I have a heart?" - -"Oh, you're too conceited ever to be jealous." - -"But I am! I'll prove it. I happen to know that that palmist person, -Granthope, was here this afternoon and you spent half an hour with him. -How's that?" - -"How do you know?" She awoke to a greater interest. - -"You don't seem to realize that I make it my business to know all about -you. This came by accident, though. I was on the Hyde Street car and I -saw him get off and come in here. I waited at the end of the road till -he went back. Now, what if I should tell your father that you have been -entertaining a faking palmist here, on the sly?" He leaned back and -folded his hands. - -Clytie rose swiftly and walked to the door without a look at him. - -"Father," she called, "Mr. Cayley has something to say to you." - -"Never mind," Cayley protested. "That was merely an experiment." - -Mr. Payson, in overcoat and silk hat, thrust a mildly expectant head in -the room. - -"It was only about the trade dollar business," said Cayley. "I'll tell -you some other time." - -Mr. Payson withdrew, scenting no mischief, and Clytie sat down without a -word. - -"Thought you'd call my bluff, did you?" said Cayley, unruffled. "I like -spirit!" - -"If you don't look out you'll succeed in boring me." Clytie's manner -had shown an amused scorn rather than resentment. She was evidently not -afraid of him. - -"You're fighting too hard to be bored," he remarked coolly. He added, -"Then you are interested in him, are you?" - -"I am." Clytie looked him frankly in the face. - -"Why?" he asked. - -"I've heard a lot about him and he appeals to my imagination. I -scarcely think I need to apologize for it. Have you any objection to my -knowing him?" - -"I'd rather you wouldn't get mixed up with him; since he's been taken up -the women are simply crazy about him, as they always are about any -charlatan. They're all running after him and calling on him and ringing -him up at all hours. Why, Cly, they actually lie in wait for him at his -place; trying to get a chance to talk to him alone. I don't exactly see -you in that class, that's all. You can scarcely blame me." - -"Oh, I haven't rung him up yet," said Clytie, "but there's no knowing -what I may do, of course, with all my unexploded brain-cells." - -"How did he happen to come here, then?" - -"He came to see me, I suppose." - -Cayley accepted the rebuff gracefully. "Well, in another month, when -some one else comes along, people will drop him with a thud. He's a -nine days' wonder now, but he's too spectacular to last. This is a -great old town! We need another new fakir now that the old gentleman in -the Miller house has stopped his Occult Brotherhood in the drawing-room -and his antique furniture repository in the cellar. I haven't heard of -anything so picturesque since that Orpheum chap caught the turnips on a -fork in his teeth, that were tossed from the roof of the Palace Hotel. -I suppose I'll have a good scandal about Granthope, pretty soon, to add -to my collection." - -Clytie accepted the diversion, evidently only too glad to change the -subject. "What collection?" she asked. - -"My San Francisco Improbabilities. I've got a note-book full of -them--things no sane Easterner would believe possible, and no novelist -dare to use in fiction." - -"Oh, yes, I remember your telling me. What are they? One was that -house made entirely of doors, wasn't it?" - -"Yes, the 'house of one hundred and eighty doors' at the foot of Ninth -Street. Then, there is the hulk of the _Orizaba_ over by the Union Iron -Works, where 'Frank the Frenchman' lives like a hermit, eats swill and -bathes in the sewage of the harbor. Then there's 'Munson's Mystery' on -the North beach--nobody has ever found out who Munson is. And Dailey, -the star eater of the Palace Hotel--he used to have four canvas-back -ducks cooked, selected one and used only the juice from the others; he -ordered soup at a dollar a plate; and he had a happy way of buying a -case of champagne with each meal, drinking only the top glass from each -bottle." - -Clytie laughed now, for Cayley was in one of his most amusing and -enthusiastic moods. "Do you remember that tramp who lived all summer in -the Hensler vault in Calvary Cemetery?" - -"Yes, but that isn't so impossible as Kruger's castle out in the -sand-hills by Tenth Avenue. It's a perfect jumble of job-lot buildings -from the Mid-winter Fair, like a nightmare palace. I went out there -once and saw old Mother Kruger, so tortured with rheumatism that she had -to crawl round on her hands and knees. She had only one tooth left. The -old man is one of the last of the wood-engravers and calls himself the -Emperor of the Nations. He has resurrected Hannibal and an army of two -hundred thousand men; also he revived Pompeii for three days. He wanted -to bring Mayor Sutro back to life for me, but I wouldn't stand for it." - -Cayley swept on with his anecdotes. "Who would believe the story of -'Big Bertha,' who buncoed all the swellest Hebrews in town, and ended by -playing Mazeppa in tights at the Bella Union Theater? Who has written -the true story of Dennis Kearney, the hack-driver, who had his speeches -written for him by reporters, and went East with a big head, -unconsciously to plagiarize Wendell Phillips in Fanueil Hall? Or of -'Mammy' Pleasant, the old negress who had such mysterious influence over -so many millionaires--who couldn't be bribed--who died at last, with all -her secrets untold? There's Romance in purple letters! - -"What do you think of a first folio Shakespeare, the rent-roll of -Stratford parish, and a collection of Incunabula worth thirty thousand -dollars, kept in the deserted library on Montgomery Street in a case, by -Jove, without a lock! What's the matter with Little Pete, the Chinaman, -jobbing all the race-tracks in California? Who'd believe that there are -streets here, within a mile of Lotta's fountain, so steep that they -pasture cows on the grass?" - -"Then there's Emperor Norton, and the Vigilance Committee, and all the -secrets of the Chinatown slave trade," Clytie contributed, with aroused -interest. - -"Oh, I'm not speaking of that sort of thing. That's been done, and the -East and England think that Romance departed from here with the -red-shirted miner. Everybody knows about the Bret Harte type of -adventure. It's the things that are going on now or have happened -within a few years--like finding that Chinese woman's skeleton upside -down, built into the wall of the house on the corner of Powell and -Sutter; like Bill Dockery, the food inspector, who terrorized the San -Bruno road, like a new Claude Duval, holding up the milkmen with a -revolver and a lactometer, and went here, there and everywhere, into -restaurants and hotels all over the peninsula, dumping watered milk into -the streets till San Francisco ran white with it." - -"Then there's Carminetti's," Clytie recalled, now. "That's modern -enough, and typical of San Francisco, isn't it? I mean not so much -what's done there, as the way they do it. I've always wanted to go down -there some Saturday night and see just what it's like." - -"I wouldn't want you to be seen there, Cly, it wouldn't do." Cayley -shook his head decidedly. - -"Why wouldn't it do?" - -"It's a little too lively a crowd. You'd be disgusted, if they happened -to hit things up a bit, as they often do." - -"I don't see why I shouldn't be privileged to see what is going on. -It's a part of my education, isn't it? It's all innocent enough, from -what you say; it's at worst nothing but vulgar. I think I am proof -against that." - -"People would get an altogether wrong opinion of you. They'd think you -were fast." - -"I fast?" Clytie smiled. "I think I can risk that. I shouldn't probably -want to go more than once, it's true. You don't know me, that's all. -You don't believe that I can go from one world of convention to another -and accept the new rules of life when it's necessary. It's just for -that reason that I _do_ wish to go--as, when I went to London, I wanted -to see if I could accept all their slow, poky methods of business and -transportation and everything and find out the reason of it all for -myself, before I thought of criticizing it. I want to understand -Carminetti's, if I can, and if you won't take me, I'll find some one who -will." - -"Granthope, perhaps?" Cayley suggested with irony. - -"I have no doubt he'd understand my motives better than you do!" - -"Well, it might be an interesting experiment. Miss Payson at -Carminetti's--there's a San Francisco contrast for you!" - -"You may add it to your list of Improbabilities. Study me, if you like, -and put me in your list. You may find that I have a surprise or two -left for you." She smiled to herself and threw back her head proudly. - -"You do tempt me to try it," he said, coolly watching her. "You'd look -as inconsistent there as those old French family portraits in that -saloon out on the Beach--Lords of Les Baux, they were, I believe, -administrators of the high justice, the middle and the low! - -"And, oh!" he added, "that reminds me of another thing I found to-day -while I was looking over a file of the _Chronicle_, digging up this -trade dollar business. It was way back in 1877; a queer story, but I -suppose it's true." - -"What was it?" Clytie asked. The rays of the lamp shot her hair with -gold sparks as she sat in a low chair, listening. - -"Why, there was an old woman who was half crazy; she lived down south of -Market Street somewhere in the most fearful squalor." - -Clytie suddenly moved back into the shadow. - -"Yes, yes,--what else?" She followed his words with absorbed attention. - -"There was no furniture except a lot of boxes and a bookcase. And -here's the remarkable thing: there was about two inches of rubbish and -dirt matted down all over the floor, where she used to hide money and -food and any old thing, wrapped in little packages. When she died, her -stuff was auctioned off, and they found a trunk with a whole new wedding -outfit in it. How's that?" - -"What was her name?" Clytie asked breathlessly. - -"I don't remember it. She was a sort of clairvoyant, I believe. There -was a little boy lived with her, too. It seems he disappeared after she -died. Ran away." - -Clytie leaned forward again, her eyes wide open and staring. Her hands -were tightly clasped together. - -"A little boy?" she repeated. - -"Why, that's what it said in the paper. Great story, isn't it?" - -Clytie's breath came and went rapidly, as if she were trying to breathe -in a storm, amidst the dashing of waves. The color went from her -cheeks, her thin nostrils dilated. Then, retreating into the shade -again, she managed to say: - -"It certainly is romantic." - -"No one would believe a thing like that could be true," he followed. - -"No, I can scarcely believe it's possible, myself," she replied, -controlling her agitation. - -Blanchard Cayley ran on and on with his talk. Clytie gave him scant -attention, answering in monosyllables. - - - - - *CHAPTER V* - - *THE RISE AND FALL OF GAY P. SUMMER* - - -Two hours after leaving Granthope's studio, Mr. Gay P. Summer had -"dated" Fancy Gray. Mr. Summer was a "Native Son of the Golden West"; -he had, indeed, risen to the honorable station of Vice President of the -Fort Point Parlor of that ecstatic organization. He was, in his modest -way, a leader of men, and aspired to a corresponding mastery over women. -In all matters pertaining to the pursuit and conquest of the fair sex, -Mr. Summer was prompt, ingenious and determined. Before two weeks were -over he was able to boast, to his room-mate, of Fancy's subjection. -Fancy herself might equally well have boasted of his. At the end of this -time he was, at least, in possession of her photograph, six notes -written in a backward, slanting penmanship, twelve words to the damask -page, with the date spelled out, a lock of hair (though this was arrant -rape), and one gray suede, left-hand glove. These he displayed, as -trophies of the chase, upon the bureau of his bedroom and defended them, -forbye, from the asteistic comments of his room-mate, an unwilling and -unconfessed admirer of Gay P. Summer's power to charm and subdue. - -In those two weeks much had been done that it is not possible to do -elsewhere than in the favored city by the Golden Gate. A Sunday -excursion to the beach was the fruit of his first telephonic -conversation. There are beaches in other places, indeed, but there is no -other Carville-by-the-Sea. This capricious suburb, founded upon the -shifting sands of "The Great Highway," as San Francisco's ocean -boulevard is named, is a little, freakish hamlet, whose dwellings--one -could not seriously call them houses--are built, for the most part, of -old street-cars. The architecture is of a new order, frivolously -inconsequent. According to the owner's fancy, the cars are placed side -by side or one atop the other, arranged every way, in fact, except -actually standing on end. From single cars, more or less adapted for -temporary occupancy, to whimsical residences, in which the car appears -only in rudimentary fragments, a suppressed motif suggested by rows of -windows or by sliding doors, the owners' taste and originality have had -wanton range. Balconies jut from roofs, piazzas inclose sides and -fronts, cars are welded together, dovetailed, mortised, added as ells at -right angles or used terminally as kitchens to otherwise normal -habitations. - -Gay P. Summer was, with his room-mate, the proprietor of a car of the -more modest breed. It was a weather-worn, blistered, orange-colored -affair that had once done service on Mission Street. The cash-box was -still affixed to the interior, the platform, shaky as it was, still -held; the gong above, though cracked, still rang. There was a partition -dividing what they called their living-room, where the seats did service -for bunks, from the kitchen, where they were bridged for a table and -perforated for cupboards. There was a shaky canvas arrangement over a -plank platform; and beneath, in the sand, was buried a treasure of beer -bottles, iron knives, forks and spoons and wooden plates. - -Here, unchaperoned and unmolested, save by the wind and sun, Gay P. -Summer and Fancy Gray proceeded to get acquainted. They made short work -of it. - -Fancy's velvet cheeks were painted with a fine rose color that day. Her -hair looked well in disorder; how much better it would have looked, had -it kept its natural tone, she did not realize. Her firm, white line of -zigzag teeth made her smile irresistible, even though she chewed gum. -Her eyes were lambent, flickering from brown to green; her lower lids, -shaded with violet, made them seem just wearied enough to give them -softness. None of this was lost on Gay. - -He, too, was well-developed, masculine, agile, with a juvenile glow and -freshness of complexion that rivaled hers. His dress was jimp and -artful, with tie and socks of the latest and most vivid mode. Upon his -short, pearl, covert coat, he wore a mourning band, probably for -decoration rather than as a badge of affliction. His eyes were still -bright and clear without symptoms of dissipation. His laughter was good -to hear, but, as to his talk, little would bear repetition--slangy -badinage, the braggadocio of youth, a gay running fire of obvious retort -and innuendo, frolic and flirtations. That Fancy appeared to enjoy it -should go without saying. She was not for criticism of her host and -entertainer that fine day. She let herself go in the way of gaiety he -led and slanged him jest for jest, for Fancy herself had a pert and -lively tongue. - -Upon one point only did she fail to meet him. Not a word in regard to -her employer could he get from her. Again and again, Gay came back to -the subject of the palmist and his business secrets; Fancy parried his -queries every time. He tried her with flattery--she laughed in his -face. He attempted to lead her on by disclosing vivacious secrets of -his own life; his ammunition was only wasted upon her. He coaxed; he -threatened jocosely (she defended herself ably from his punitive kiss), -but her discretion was impregnable. She made merry at his expense when -he sulked. She tantalized him when he pleaded. Her wit was too nimble -for him and he gave up the attempt. - -The stimulation of this first meeting went to Fancy's head. She laughed -like a child. She sang snatches from her vaudeville days and mimicked -celebrities. Gay dropped his pose of worldly wisdom and made shrieking -puns. They played like Babes in the Wood. - -At seven o'clock, hungry and sun-burned, they walked along the beach to -the Cliff House and dined upon the glazed veranda, watching the surf -break on Seal Rocks. As they sat there in the dusk, haunted by an -elusive waiter, Gay waxed eloquent about himself, told of his high -office in the Native Sons, revealed the amount of his salary at the -bank, touched lightly upon his previous amours, bragged loftily of his -indiscretions at exuberant inebriated festivals, puffing magnificently -the while at a "two-bit" cigar. - -Fancy paid for her meal by listening to him conscientiously, ejaculating -"No!" and "Yes?" or "Say, Gay, that's a josh, isn't it?" If her mind -wandered (Fancy was nobody's fool), he did not perceive it. - -To their cocktails and California claret they now added a Benedictine, -and Gay grew still more confidential. The night fell, and the crowd -began to leave. They walked entirely round the hotel corridor, bought an -abalone shell split into layers of opalescent hues, then with a last -look at the sea-lions, barking in the surge, they walked for the train, -found a place in an open car and sat down, wedged into a hilarious -crowd, reveling in song and peanuts. - -Disregarded was the superb view they passed. The train, skirting the -precipitous cliffs along the Golden Gate, commanded a splendor of -darkling water and tumultuous mountain distances, theatrical in beauty. -The sea splashed at the foot of the precipice beneath them. The hills -rose above their heads, the intermittent twinkle of lighthouses -punctuated the purple gloom. It was all lost upon them. Fancy's head -drooped to Gay's shoulder. He put his arm about her, cocking his hat to -one side that it might not strike hers as he leaned nearer. No one -observed them, no one cared, for every Jack had his Jill, and a simple, -primitive comradeship had settled upon the wearied throng. A baby -whined occasionally as the train lurched round the sharp curves of the -track. A riotous yell or two came from the misogynists of the smoking -compartment. Fancy did not talk. Gay's loquacity oozed away. He was -content to feel her breathing against his side. - - -There were telephone conversations often after that, then occasional -lunches down-town, when Fancy, always modishly dressed, drew many an eye -to her well-rounded, well-filled Eton jacket, her smart red hat, her -fresh white gloves and her high-heeled shoes. Gay was proud of her, and -he showed her off to his friends without caution. Fancy was nothing -loath. Occasionally they went to the theater, dining previously in -style at some popular restaurant, where Gay hoped that he might be seen -with her. To such as discovered them, he would bow with proud -proprietorship; or perhaps saunter over, on some flimsy pretext, to hear -his friends say, with winks and smiles: - -"By Jove, that girl's all right, old man! She's a stunner. Say, -introduce me, will you?" - -To which Gay would answer: - -"Not on your folding bed! This is a close corporation, old man. I've -got that claim staked out, see? So long!" and walk away pleased. - -At the theater, he always made a point of going out between the acts, in -order that his reentry might point more conspicuously at his conquest. -Afterward, at Zinkand's, having engaged a table beside which all the -world must pass, he would pose, apparently oblivious to the crowd, -talking to her with absorbed interest. - -Fancy suffered the exhibition without displeasure. She had no objection -to being looked at. To make a picture of herself, to play the arch and -coquettish before a room of well-dressed folk was one of the things she -did best. - -She was recognized occasionally and pointed out by one or another of -Granthope's patrons. "There she is; over behind you, in the white lace -hat, with a chatelaine watch--don't look just yet, though," was the -almost audible formula which Gay P. Summer learned to wait for. At such -times his chest swelled with pride. To walk into a restaurant with her -late at night and leave a wake of excited whispers behind him, was all -he knew of fame. - -It did not escape Gay's notice, however, that Fancy's eyes were not -always for him. In the middle of his longest and most elaborate story, -she would often throw a surreptitious glance about the room, letting it -rest for an instant--a butterfly's caress--upon some admiring stalwart -stranger. Once or twice he detected the flicker of Fancy's smile, a -smile not meant for him. He found that, although his attention was all -for Fancy, Fancy's errant glances allowed nothing and nobody to escape -her observation. If he mentioned any one whom he had seen in the room, -Fancy had seen him, or more often her, first. Fancy always knew what -she wore, what it cost, what she was doing, how much she liked him and -what her little game was. - -This sort of thing would have been an education for Gay, had he been -amenable to such teaching; but what women see and know without a tutor -he would and could never know. Wherefore, such dialogues as this were -common: - -Fancy: "The brute! He's actually made her cry, now. She's a little -fool, though; it's good enough for her!" - -From Gay: "Where?--who do you mean?" - -"Over there in the corner--don't stare so, _please_!--See those two -fellows and two girls? The girl in the white waist is tied up in a -heart-to-heart talk with that bald-headed chap, but she's dead in love -with the other fellow, see? Yes, that fellow with the mustache. My! but -she's jealous of the other girl." - -"How can you tell? Oh, that's all a pipe-dream, Fancy!" - -"Why, any fool would know it--any woman would, I mean. She had a few -words with him--the fellow she's stuck on, just now! He must have said -something pretty raw. Look at her eyes! You can tell from here there -are tears in them. Look! See? I thought so. She's going to try and -make him jealous! What do you think of that?" - -"Why, she's changed places with him; what's that for?" To Gay, the -drama was as mysterious as a Chinese play. - -"Just to get him crazy, of course! That other fellow thinks she's -really after him, too. The other girl sees through the whole game, of -course. My, but men are easy! Those two fellows are certainly being -worked good and plenty. Just look at the way she's freezing up to that -bald-headed chap now. Well, I never! If that other girl isn't trying -to get you on the string. Smile at her, Gay, and see what she'll do." - -"Never mind about her!" said Gay, secretly pleased at the tribute. "You -girls can always see a whole lot more than what really happens. She's -just changed places on account of the draught, probably. She is lamping -me, though, isn't she? Say, she's a peach, all right!" - -"Yes, she's sure pretty. Say, Gay--" - -"What?" His eye returned fondly to her. - -"Do you think I'm as pretty as she is?" - -"Oh, you make me tired, Fancy. Gee! You've got her sewed up in a sack -for looks!" - -So Fancy played her game cleverly, keeping Gay, but keeping him off at -arm's length. But as time went on, his ardor grew and she was often at -her wits' end to handle him. Though free from any conventional -restraints, she did not yet consider her lips Mr. Summer's property, -though she permitted him a cool and lifeless hand upon occasion. In -time, the excitable youth began to understand her reserve; but instead -of dampening his enthusiasm, it aroused his zest for the chase. She was -not so easy game as he had thought. He waxed sentimental, therefore, and -plied her with equivocal monologues, hinting, in the attempt to make -sure of his way. At this, her sense of humor broke forth, effervescing -in lively ridicule. This brought Mr. Summer, at last, to the point of -an out-and-out proposal. Fancy, experienced in such situations, warned -in time by his preludes, did not take it too seriously. - -"I am sorry to say you draw a blank, Gay," she informed him lightly. -"I'm not in the market yet. Many a man has expected me to become -domesticated at sight, and settle down in content over the cookstove. -But I haven't even a past yet--nothing but a rather tame present and -hope for a future. I don't seem to see you in it, Gay. In fact, -there's nobody visible to the naked eye at present." - -"Well," he said, "I'll cut it out for now, as long as I can't make good, -but sometime you'll come to me and beg me to marry you, see if you -don't. Whenever you get ready, I'll be right there with the goods." - -Fancy laughed and the episode was closed. - - -"Say, Fancy, there's a gang of artist chaps and literary guys I'd like -to put you up against," Gay said one afternoon. "I think you'd make a -hit with the bunch, if you can stand a little jollying." - -"You watch me!" Fancy became enthusiastically interested. "Where do -they hang out?" - -"They eat at a joint down on Montgomery Street. They're heavy joshers, -though. They're too clever for me, mostly. It's the real-thing Bohemia -down there, though." - -"Why didn't you tell me about it before?" she pouted. "I'm game! Let's -float in there to-night and see the animals feed." - -So they went down to the Latin Quarter together. - -Bohemia has been variously described. Since Henri Murger's time, the -definition has changed retrogressively, until now, what is commonly -called Bohemia is a place where one is told, "This is Liberty -Hall!"--and one is forced to drink beer whether one likes it or not, -where not to like spaghetti is a crime. Not such was the little coterie -of artists, writers and amateurs, who dined together every night at -Fulda's restaurant. - -In San Francisco is recruited a perennial crop of such petty soldiers of -fortune. Here art receives scant recompense, and as soon as one gets -one's head above water and begins to be recognized, existence is -unendurable in a place where genius has no field for action. The -artist, the writer or the musician must fly East to the great -market-place, New York, or to the great forcing-bed, Paris, to bloom or -fade, to live or die in competition with others in his field. - -So the little artistic colonies shrink with defections or increase with -the accession of hitherto unknown aspirants. Many go and never return. -A few come back to breathe again the stimulating air of California, to -see with new eyes its fresh, vivid color, its poetry, its romance. To -have gone East and to have returned without abject failure is here, in -the eyes of the vulgar, Art's patent of nobility. Of those who have -been content to linger peaceably in the land of the lotus, some are -earls without coronets, but one and all share a fierce, hot, passionate -love of the soil. San Francisco has become a fetish, a cult. Under its -blue skies and driving fogs is bred the most ardent loyalty in these -United States. San Francisco is most magnificently herself of any -American city, and San Franciscans, in consequence, are themselves with -an abounding perfervid sincerity. Faults they have, lurid, pungent, -staccato, but hypocrisy is not of them. That vice is never necessary. - -The party that gathered nightly at Fulda's was as remote from the world -as if it had been ensconced on a desert island. It was unconscious, -unaffected, sufficient to itself. Men and girls had come and gone since -it had formed, but the nucleal circle was always complete. Death and -desertions were unacknowledged--else the gloom would have shut down and -the wine, the red wine of the country, would have tasted salt with -tears. There had been tragedies and comedies played out in that group, -there were names spoken in whispers sometimes, there were silent toasts -drunk; but if sentiment was there, it was disguised as folly. Life -still thrilled in song. Youth was not yet dead. Art was long and -exigent. - -It was their custom, after dinner, to adjourn to Champoreau's for _cafe -noir_, served in the French style. In this large, bare saloon, with -sanded floor, with its bar and billiard table, foreign as France, almost -always deserted at this hour save by their company, the genial _patron_ -smiled at their gaiety, as he prepared the long glasses of coffee. -To-night, there were six at the round table. - -Maxim, an artist unhailed as yet from the East, was, of all, the most -obviously picturesque, with a fierce mustached face and a shock of black -hair springing in a wild mass from his head to draggle in stringy locks -below his eyes, or, with a sudden leonine shake, to be thrown back when -he bellowed forth in song. He had been in Paris and knew the airs and -argot of the most desperate studies. His laughter was like the roar of -a convivial lion. - -Dougal, with a dog-like face and tow hair, so ugly as to be refreshing, -full of common sense and kindness, with a huge mouth full of little -cramped teeth and a smile that drew and compelled and captured like a -charm--he sat next. Good nature and loyalty dwelt in his narrow blue -eyes. His slow, labored speech was seldom smothered, even in the wit -that enveloped it. - -Most masculine and imperative of all, was Benton, with his blur of -blue-black hair, fine tangled threads, his melting, deep blue eyes, -shadowy with fatigue, lighted with vagrant dreams or shot with brisk -fires of passion. His hands were strong and he had an air of suppressed -power. - -The fourth man was Philip Starr, a poet not long for San Francisco, -seeing that the Athanaeum had already placed the laurels upon his -brow--he was as far from the conventional type of poet as is possible. -He had a lean, eager, sharply cut face, shrewd, quick eye and sinewy, -long fingers. His hair was close cropped, his mouth was tight and -narrow. Electricity seemed to dart from him as from a dynamo. Just now -he was teaching the company a new song--an old one, rather, for it was -an ancient Anglo-Saxon drinking-song, whose uproarious refrain was well -fitted to the temper of the assembly. - -At one end of the table sat a young woman, _petite_, elf-like as a -little girl, a brown, cunning, soft-haired creature, smiling, smiling, -smiling, with eyes half closed, wrinkled in quiet mirth. This was Elsie -Dougal. - -Opposite her was a girl of twenty-seven, with a handsome, clear-cut, -classic face, lighted with gray eyes, limpid and straightforward, making -her seem the most ingenuous of all. Mabel's hair curled unmanageably, -springy and dark. Her face was serious and intent till her smile broke -and a little self-conscious laugh escaped. - -Starr pounded with one fist upon the table, his thumb held stiffly -upright: - - "Dance, Thumbakin, dance!" - -he sang, and the chorus was repeated. Then with the heel of his palm -and his fingers outstretched, pounding merrily in time: - - "Oh, dance ye merrymen, every one," - -then with his fist as before: - - "For Thumbakin, he can dance alone!" - -and, raising his fists high over his head, coming down with a bang: - - "_For_ - "Thumbakin he can dance alone!" - - -They went through the song together, dancing Foreman, Middleman, and -Littleman, ending in a pianissimo. Then over and over they sang that -queer, ancient tune, till all knew it by heart. - -Benton pulled his manuscript from his pocket and read it confidentially -to Elsie, who smiled and smiled. Starr recited his last poem while -Dougal made humorous comments. Maxim broke out into a French student's -_chanson_, so wildly improper that it took two men to suppress him. -Mabel giggled hysterically and began a long, dull story which, despite -interruptions, ended so brilliantly and so unexpectedly, that every one -wished he had listened. - -Then Dougal called out: - -"The cavalry charge! Ready! One finger!" - -They tapped in unison, not too fast, each with a forefinger, upon the -table. - -"Two fingers!" - -The sound increased in volume. - -"Three fingers, four fingers, five!" - -The crescendo rose. - -"Two hands! One foot! BOTH FEET!" - -There was a hurricane of galloping fists and soles. Then, in diminuendo: - -"One foot! One hand! Four fingers, three, two, one! Halt!" - -The clatter grew softer and softer till at last all was still. - - -As Gay opened the door, Fancy heard a roar that increased steadily until -it became a wild hullabaloo. Looking in, she saw the six seated about -the table, the coffee glasses jumping madly with the percussion. The -noise was like the multitudinous charge of troopers. Then the tumult -died slowly away, the patter grew softer and softer, ending in a sudden -hush as seven faces looked up at her. Gay P. Summer's advent was -greeted with frowns, but Fancy gathered an instant acclaim from twelve -critical eyes. - -She stepped boldly into the room and shed the radiance of her smile upon -the company. - -"I guess this is where I live, all right!" she announced. "I've been -gone a long time, haven't I? Never mind the introductions. I'm Fancy -Gray, drifter; welcome to our fair city!" - -They let loose a cry of welcome, and Dougal, rising, opened a place for -her between his chair and Maxim's. - -"I'm _for_ her!" He hailed her with a good-natured grin. "She's the -right shape. Come and have coffee!" - -"I accept!" said Fancy Gray. - -Gay's reception was by no means as cordial as hers, which had been -immediate and spontaneous at the sound of her caressing, jovial voice -and the sight of her genial smile, which seemed to embrace each separate -member of the party. They made grudging room for him beside Elsie, who -gave him a cold little hand. Mabel bowed politely. - -"Where'd you get her, Gay?" said Starr. "You're improving. She looks -like a pretty good imitation of the real thing." - -"Oh, I'll wash, all right," said Fancy. - -Gay P. proudly introduced her to the company. He played her as he might -play a trump to win the seventh trick. Indeed, without Fancy's aid, he -would have received scant welcome at that exclusive board. Many and loud -were the jests at Summer's expense while he was away. Many and soft -were the jests he had not wit enough to understand when he was present. -Philip Starr had, at first sight of him, dubbed him "The Scroyle," and -this sobriquet stuck. Gay P. Summer was ill versed in Elizabethan lore, -but, had his wit been greater, his conceit would still have protected -him. - -He had already unloaded Fancy, though he was as yet unaware of it. She -was taken up with enthusiasm by the men, whom she drew like a magnet. -Mabel and Elsie watched her with the keenness of women who are jealous -of any new element in their group. It was, perhaps, not so much rivalry -they feared, for their place was too well established, as the admittance -into that circle of one who would betray a tendency toward those petty -feline amenities that only women can perceive and resent. - -But Fancy Gray showed no such symptoms. She did not bid for the men's -attention. She made a point of talking to Elsie, and she managed -cleverly to include Mabel in the attention she received. Fancy, in her -turn, scrutinized the two girls artfully and made her own instantaneous -deductions. All of this by-play was, of course, quite lost upon the -men. - -The talk sprang into new life and Fancy's eye ran from one to another -member of the group, dwelling longest upon Dougal. His ugliness seemed -to fascinate her; and, as is often the case with ugly men, he inspired -her instant confidence. She made up to him without embarrassment or -concealment, taking his hairy hand and caressing it openly. At this, -Elsie's eyelids half closed, but there was no sign of jealousy. Mabel -noticed the act, too, and her manner suddenly became warmer toward the -girl. By these two feminine reactions, Fancy saw that she had done -well. - -They sang, they pounded the table; and, as an initiation, every man -saluted Fancy's cheek. She took it like an empress. Then, suddenly, -Dougal held up two fingers. Every one's eyes were turned upon him. - -"_Piedra, Pinta?_" he cried, with a side glance at Fancy. - -Every one voted. Mabel held up both her hands gleefully. - -So was Fancy Gray, though she was not aware of the honor till afterward, -admitted to the full comradeship of the Pintos. It was a victory. Many -had, with the same ignorance as to what was happening, suffered an -ignominious defeat. Fancy's election was unanimous. - -And for this once, in gratitude for his discovery, Mr. Gay P. Summer, -The Scroyle, was suffered to inflict himself upon the coterie of the -Pintos. - -There were other honors in store for Fancy Gray. - - -Piedra Pinta is two hours' journey from San Francisco to the north, in -Marin County--a land of mountains, virgin redwood forests and -trout-filled streams. One takes the ferry to Sausalito, crossing the -northern bay, and rides for an hour or so up a little narrow-gage -squirming railroad into the canyon of Paper Mill Creek; and, if one has -discovered and appropriated the place, it is a mile walk up the track -and a drop from the embankment down a gravelly, overgrown slope, into -the camp-ground. Here a great crag rears its vertically split face, -hidden in beeches and bay trees. At its foot a flattened fragment has -fallen forward to do service as a fireplace. Beyond, there are more -boulders in the stream, which here widens and deepens, overhung by -clustering trees. Save when an occasional train rushes past overhead, or -a fisherman comes by, wading up-stream, the place is secret and silent. -Opposite, across the brook, an oat-field slopes upward to the country -road and the smooth drumlins beyond. A not too noisy crowd can here lie -hugger-mugger, hidden from the world. - -To Piedra Pinta that next Saturday they came, bringing Fancy Gray, a -smiling captive, with them. The men bore blankets and books; the women -food and dishes enough for a picnic meal. They came singing, romping up -the track, big Benton first with the heaviest load. In corduroys and -jeans, in boots and flannel shirts they came. Little Elsie, like a girl -scout, wore a rakish slouch hat trimmed with live carnations, a short -skirt, leggings, a sheath knife swinging from her belt. Mabel had her -own pearl-handled revolver. The rest looked like gipsies. - -They slid down the bank and debouched with a shout into the little -glade. Fancy entered with vim into the celebration. Not that she did -any useful work, that was not her field; she was there chiefly as a -decoration and an inspiration. She had dressed herself in khaki. Her -boots were laced high, her sombrero permitted a shower of tinted -tendrils to escape and wanton about her forehead. She found fragrant -sprays of yerba buena and wreathed them about her neck. - -It was all new and strange to her, all delightful. She had seen the -artificial side of the town and knew the best and worst of its gaiety; -but here, in the open for almost the first time, she breathed deeply of -the primal joys of nature and was refreshed. Her curiosity was -unlimited; she played with earth and water, fire and air. She -unbuttoned the collar of her shirt-waist and turned it in, disclosing a -delicious pink hollow at her throat. She rolled up her sleeves, -displaying the dimples in her elbows. At the preparations for the -dinner she was an eager spectator, and when the meal was served, smoked -and sandy, and the bottles were opened, all traces of the fairy in her -disappeared; she was simple girl. She ate like a cannibal and ate with -glee. - -The shadows fell. The nook became dusky, odorous, moist; the rivulet -rippled pleasantly, the ferns moved lazily in the night airs. The moon -arose and gave a mysterious argent illumination. The going and coming -ceased, the shouting and lusty singing grew still. The blankets were -opened and spread at the foot of the rock. Dougal and Elsie took their -places in the center and, the men on one side and the girls on the -other, they lay upon the ground and wrapped themselves against the -cooling air. The fire was replenished and its glare lighted up the -trees in planes of foliage, like painted sheets of scenery. - -They lay down, but not to sleep. Dougal's coffee, black and strong, -stimulated their brains. The talk ran on with an accompaniment of song -and jest. One after another sprang up to sing some old-time tune or to -recite a familiar, well-beloved poem; the dialogue jumped from one to -the other. Some dozed and woke again at a chorus of laughter; some sat -wide-eyed, staring into the fire, into the darkness, or into one -another's eyes. - -Maxim was prodigious. He blared forth rollicking airs, he did scenes -from _La Boheme_, posturing picturesquely against the flame, his long -black locks sweeping his face. Starr improvised while they listened, -rapt. Benton climbed high into a beech tree and there, invisible, he -recited _Cynara_ and quoted _The Song of the Sword_, while Dougal jeered -and fed the blaze. Mabel listened entranced and appreciative, and -ventured occasionally on one more long, dull story--her tale always -growing melodramatically exciting, as the attention of her listeners -wandered. Elsie sat and smiled and smiled, wide awake till three. - -Forgotten tales, snatches of song, jokes and verses surged into Fancy's -head and one after another she shot them into the night. She, too, -arose and sang, dancing. Not since her vaudeville days had she -attempted it, but mounting to the spirit of the occasion, she thrilled -and fascinated them with her drollery. - -She and Dougal were the last ones awake. They spoke now in undertones. -Maxim was snoring hideously, so was Benton. Starr lay with his mouth -open, Mabel was curled into a cocoon of blankets, flushed Elsie was -still smiling in her sleep. - -At four the dawn appeared. They watched it spellbound, and as it turned -from a glowing rose to straw color, the birds began to twitter in the -boughs. Fancy shook off her lassitude. - -"I'm going in swimming," she exclaimed, starting up. "Stay here, -Dougal--I trust to your honor!" - -"I'll not promise," he replied. "One doesn't often have a chance to see -a nymph bathing in a fountain nowadays, but I have the artist's eye; it -will only be for beauty's sake--go ahead!" He kept his place, -nevertheless; the pool was invisible from the level of the camp-ground. - -Fancy darted down the path to the wash of pebbles below. Dougal shook -Elsie into a dazed wakefulness. - -Mabel's eyes opened sleepily. - -"Fancy's gone in swimming," he whispered. "Don't wake up the boys." - -Like shadows the two girls slid after her. Dougal lay down to sleep. - -In half an hour he was awakened by their return, fresh, rosy, dewy and -jubilant. Elsie crawled to his side under the blankets; Fancy and Mabel -scrambled up the bank to greet the sun, chattering like sparrows. Maxim -rolled over in his sleep. Benton and Starr, back to back, dreamed on. -The sun rose higher and smote the languid group with a shaft of light. -The men rose at last, and, dismissing Elsie from the camp, took their -turns in the pool. At seven Dougal announced breakfast. - -At high noon, after a climb up the hill and an hour of poetry, Fancy was -crowned queen of Piedra Pinta, with pomp and circumstance. She was -invested with a crown of bay leaves and, for a scepter, the camp poker -was placed in her hand. Dougal, as her prime minister, waxed merry, -while her loyal lieges passed before her to do her homage. She greeted -them one by one: The Duke of Russian Hill, with his tribute of three -square meals per week; Lord of the Barbary Coast; Elsie, Lady of Lime -Point, Mistress of the Robes; Sir Maxim the Monster, Court Painter; Sir -Starr of Tar Flat, Laureate; and Mabel the Fair, Marchioness of Mount -Tamalpais, First Lady of the Bedchamber, to keep her warm. - - -She issued many titles after that, as her domain increased, and as -"Fancy I," she always styled herself in signing her letters. Her royal -edicts were not often slighted. - -For she was gay and young, and she was bold and free. Life had scarcely -touched her yet with care. This was her apotheosis. The scene went down -in the annals of the Pintos and the tradition spread. Her reign was -famous. Her accolade was a smile. Her homage was paid in kisses--and -in tears. - - -Yet Fancy Gray was not a girl to commit herself to any one particular -set. Her tastes were eclectic. She was essentially adventurous. It was -her boast that she never made a promise and never broke one--that she -never explained--that she liked everybody, and nobody. She guarded her -independence jealously, restless at every restraint. With the friend of -the moment she was everything. When he passed out of sight, she devoted -an equal attention to the next comer, and she was faithful to both. - -She was often seen with Granthope dining or at the theater. Mabel and -Elsie whispered together, adding glances to smiles, and frowns to -blushes, summing them up according to the feminine rules of -psychological arithmetic. The men did not even wonder--it was none of -their business, and was she not Fancy Gray? When they were seen -together, they were conspicuously picturesque. Granthope had an air, -Fancy had a manner, the two harmonized perfectly. - -Mr. Gay P. Summer, meanwhile, had by no means given up the chase. He -was not one to be easily snubbed, and the only effect of the slight put -upon him by the Pintos was to make him seek after Fancy still more -energetically, and while he paid court to her, to keep her away from the -attractions of that engaging set. Fancy accepted his attentions with -condescension. After all, a dinner was a dinner--her own way of putting -it was that she always hated to refuse "free eggs." - -He still tried his best to draw her out, but when he asked her about -Granthope, she gave a passionate, indignant refutation of his -innuendoes. - -"I owe that man everything, everything!" she exclaimed. "He took me -when I was walking the streets, hungry, without a cent, and he has been -good to me ever since! He's all right! And any one who says anything -against him is crossed off my list!" - -This was at Zinkand's. The slur had been occasioned by the sight of -Granthope at table with a lady whom Gay knew rather too much about. It -happened that there was another group in the room that drew Fancy's -roving eye and nimble comment. She asked about the man with the pointed -beard. - -"Oh, that's Blanchard Cayley--everybody knows him," Gay explained. -"He's a rounder. I see him everywhere. No, I don't know him to speak -to, but they say he's a clever chap. I wonder who that is with him, -though? I've seen her before, somewhere." - -"I know," said Fancy; "that's Mrs. Page." - -"H'm! Funny, every time I see her she's with a different man. She's -pretty gay, that woman." - -"Is she? You're a cad to tell of it." - -"Why? Do you know her?" - -She scorned to answer. - -On a Sunday night soon after, Gay invited her to dinner at Carminetti's. -She accepted, never having gone to the place, which was then in the -height of its prestige, a resort for the most uproarious spirits of the -town. - -It was down near the harbor front, a region of warehouses, factories, -freight tracks and desecrated, melancholy buildings, disheveled and -squalid, that Mr. Summer took her. He pushed open the door to let upon -her a wave of light frivolity and the mingled odor of Italian oil and -wine permeated by an under-current of fried food. The tables were all -filled, some with six or eight diners at one board, and by the counter -or bar, which ran all along one side of the room, there were at least a -dozen persons waiting for seats. Gay walked up to bald-headed "Dave," -the patron, who in his shirt-sleeves was superintending the confusion, -keeping an eye ready for rising disorder. After a quick colloquy, he -beckoned to Fancy, who followed him down between the gay groups to a -table in a corner. It was just being deserted by a short young hoodlum, -with a pink and green striped sweater, accompanied by a girl several -inches too tall for him, dressed in a soiled buff raglan and a triumphal -hat. - -"Here we are," said Gay; "we're in luck to get a table at all, to-night. -But I gave Dave a four-bit piece and that fixed it." - -Fancy sat down and looked about. "It is pretty gay, isn't it? It looks -as if it were going to be fun." - -"Oh, you wait till nine o'clock," Gay boasted wisely. "They're not -warmed up to it yet. The 'Dago Red' hasn't got in its work. There'll -be something doing, after a while." - -The walls were decorated with beer- and wine-signs in frames, and on -either side of the huge mirror hung lithographic portraits of Humberto -and the Queen of Italy. Opposite, a row of windows looking on the -street was hung with half-curtains of a harsh, disagreeable blue; over -them peeped, now and again, wayfarers or others who had dined too well, -rapping on the glass and gesticulating to those inside. All about the -sides of the room and upon every column, hats, coats and cloaks were -hung, making the place seem like an old-clothes shop. The floor was -covered with sawdust and the tables were huddled closely together. - -For the most part the diners were all young--mechanics, clerks, factory -girls and the like though here and there, watching the sport, were -up-town parties, reveling in an unconventional air. The groups, now -well on in their dinner, had begun to fraternize. Here a young man -raised his wine-glass to a pretty girl across the room and the two drank -together, smiling, or calling out some easy witticism. In one corner, a -party of eight was singing jovially something about: "One day to him a -letter there did come," and anon, encouraged by the applause and the -freedom, a lad of nineteen, devoid of collar, closed his eyes, leaned -back and sang a long song through in a vibrant, harsh voice. He was -greeted with applause, hands clapped, feet pounded and knives clattered -on bottles till the _patron_ hurried from table to table quelling the -pandemonium. Waiters came and went in bustling fervor, dodging between -one table and another, jostling and spilling soup; at intervals a great -clanging bell rang and the apparition of a soiled white cook appeared at -the kitchen door ordering the waiters to: "Take it away!" The kitchen -was an arcade into which from time to time guests wandered, to joke with -the cook and beat upon the huge immaculate copper kettles on the wall. - -The conversation at times became almost general, the party of songsters -in the corner leading in the exchange of persiflage. Two girls dining -alone, with hard, tired-looking eyes and cheap jewelry, began a duet; -instantly, from a company of young men, two detached themselves, plates -and glasses in hand, and went over to join them. A roar went up; -glasses rang again and Dave fluttered about in protest at the noise. - -Fancy talked little. The crowd, the lights, the _camaraderie_ -hypnotized her. She watched first one and then another group, picking -out, for Gay's edification, the prettiest girl and the handsomest man in -the room. She waved her hand slyly at the collarless soloist and -applauded two darkies who came in from outside to make a hideous clamor -with banjos. As she waited to be served, she nibbled at the dry French -bread and drank of the sour claret, watching over the top of her glass, -losing nothing. - -In the middle of the room, Blanchard Cayley sat with three ladies. One -of them Fancy recognized as Miss Payson. Fancy's eyebrows rose slightly -at seeing her, and a smile and a nod were cordially exchanged. The -others Fancy did not know. They were both pretty women, well-dressed, -with evident signs of breeding, and, as the urn waxed freer, apparently -not a little embarrassed at being seen in such a place. Miss Payson -showed no such feeling in her demeanor, however much she may have been -amused or surprised at the spirit of the place. Blanchard Cayley divided -his attentions equitably amongst them, till, looking across the room, he -caught Fancy's errant glance. He smiled at her openly as if challenging -her roguery. - -She boldly returned the greeting. Gay caught the glance that was -exchanged. - -"See here, Fancy," he protested, "none of that now! He's got all he can -do to attend to his own table. I'll attend to this one, myself." - -Now, this was scarcely the way to treat a girl like Fancy Gray. At her -first opportunity, she sent another smile in Cayley's direction. It was -divided, this time, by members of his own party and the women began to -buzz together. Gay was annoyed. - -"There's something I like about that man," Fancy remarked presently. -"What'd you say his name was? That's the one we saw at Zinkand's, wasn't -it?" - -"There's something I don't like about him. He'd better mind his own -business," Gay growled, now thoroughly provoked. - -"You can't blame any one for noticing _me_, can you, Gay?" Her tone was -honey-sweet. - -"I can blame you for flirting across the room when you're here with me!" -he replied fiercely. - -Fancy opened her eyes very wide. "Indeed?" she said with a sarcastic -emphasis. - -"That's right," he affirmed. - -In answer, she cast another languishing glance toward Cayley. Cayley, -despite Clytie's entreating hand upon his arm, sent back an unequivocal -reply. - -"Well," said Gay, rising sullenly, "I guess it's up to me to leave!" He -reached for his hat. - -"Oh, Gay!" she protested in alarm, "you're not going to throw me down -before this whole crowd, are you?" Already their colloquy had attracted -the attention of the near-by tables. - -He hesitated a moment. "Unless you behave yourself," he said finally. -His tone of ownership decided her. - -"Run along, then!" She gave him a smile of limpid simplicity, but her -jaws were set determinedly. "I expect I can get some one to take care -of me. Don't mind me!" - -Their discussion had not been unnoticed at Mr. Cayley's table. Clytie -was watching the pair interestedly, as if reading the motions of their -lips. Fancy caught her eye and flushed a little. - -Gay's brows gathered together in a sullen look as he crowded his hat -upon his head savagely. He turned with a last retort: - -"You'll be sorry you threw me down, Fancy Gray! You want too many men on -the string at once!" - -He turned and left her, passing sulkily along the passages between the -tables with his hat on his head, till he came to the cashier, where he -paid the bill for two dinners with lordly chivalry. Then, without -looking back, he opened the door of the restaurant and went out. - -An instant after, Fancy was on her feet. Gay's going had already made -her conspicuous and her flush grew deeper. Cayley watched her without -smiling, now, waiting to see what she would do. Beside him, Clytie -Payson sat watching, her lips slightly parted, her nostrils dilated, -absorbed, seeming to understand the situation perfectly, her eyes gazing -at Fancy as if to convey her sympathy. Fancy looked and saw her there, -and the sight steadied her. With all her customary nonchalance, with -all that jovial, compelling air of optimism which she usually radiated, -as if she were quite sure of her reception and came as an expected -guest, she sauntered carelessly over to the central table. - -Her smile was dazzling as it swept about the board, meeting the eyes of -each of the women in turn. One by one it subjugated them. They even -returned it with trepidation, not too embarrassed to be keenly -expectant, waiting for the outcome. But it was for Clytie that Fancy -Gray reserved her warmest, deepest look. In that glance she threw -herself upon Miss Payson's mercy, and appealed to the innate chivalry of -woman to woman, to the bond of sex--a sentiment in finer women more -potent than jealousy. - -Even before she spoke Clytie had arisen and stretched out her hand. In -a flash she had accepted what had run counter to all her experience, and -played up to Fancy's audacity with a spirit that ignored the crowd, the -eyes, the whispers. - -Who, indeed, could resist Fancy Gray in such a fantastic, tiptoe mood? -Her act, audacious, even impertinent, was so delicately achieved, she -was so sure of herself and her own charm that it was dramatic, poetic in -its confidence, picturesque. But no one could have equalled Clytie as -she arose to meet such bravado, when she shook off her reserves and took -her hand at such a psychological game. Not even Fancy Gray, with all -her superb poise. On Fancy's cheek the color deepened--it was she who -blushed so furiously, now, not Clytie. In that flush she confessed -herself beaten at her own game. - -"How do you do?" Clytie was saying. "We've been wishing all the evening -that we could have you with us. Do sit down, here, beside me--we'll -make room for you. I want you to meet Miss Gray, Mrs. Maxwell." - -Something in the graciousness of her manner drew the other women up to -her chivalrous level. Mrs. Maxwell bowed, smiled, too, with a word of -welcome, so did Miss Dean as she was introduced. Fancy beamed. -Meanwhile Cayley had arisen. He was the most perturbed of all. He -offered his chair. - -"You see what you've done, Mr. Cayley," said Fancy. "I've just been -jilted for the first time in my life, and it was all your fault. I'm -afraid I shall have to butt in and ask you to protect me!" - -It was not Fancy but Clytie who had, apparently, most surprised him. He -gave a questioning look at her as he replied, not a little confused: - -"Won't you sit down here in my place? There's plenty of room. I'll get -another chair--or," he stole another glance at Clytie, "I'll let you -have half of mine!" - -"I accept!" said Fancy Gray. - -Clytie smiled encouragingly. "I'll divide mine with you, too, if you -like." - -"You're a gentleman! I'd much rather sit with you, Miss Payson; thank -you!" Then she looked at Clytie fondly. "I _thought_ I was right about -you! You _are_ a thoroughbred, aren't you?" - -"We're educating Mr. Cayley, my dear." Clytie gave him a bright smile. -"He has a few things yet to learn about women." - -"I plead guilty," said Cayley, watching the two with curiosity. - -"Miss Gray and I are disciples of the same school. She gave me the -password." Clytie was fairly superb--she even outshone Fancy--she was -regal. - -Fancy laughed. "You're the only one who knows it, that _I_ ever met, -though." - -"Ah," said Clytie, "then that's the only way I can beat you--I believe -many women are initiated." - -Fancy clapped her hands softly in pantomime. Then she turned to Mrs. -Maxwell and the others. "I hope I'm not out of the frying-pan into the -fire," she said. "Please let me down easy, ladies. If you don't make me -feel at home pretty quick, I'll be up against it I You don't really have -to _know_ me, you know. Only it looked to me like when he had three -such pretty women to take care of one more ought to be easy enough." - -"We _were_ three pretty women before, perhaps, my dear, but now I'm -afraid we're only one!" said Clytie. She herself, kindled with the -spirit of adventure, and so adequately welcoming it, was irresistible. - -Fancy blew a pretty kiss at her. "No man would know enough to say -anything as nice as that, would he? But I'm afraid I can't trot in your -class, Miss Payson. Why, every man in the room has been watching you -all the evening. I really ought to sit beside Mrs. Maxwell, though, to -show her off. It takes these brunettes to make me look outclassed, -doesn't it? I used to be a brunette myself, but I reformed. Mr. -Cayley, you may hold me on, if you like. And remember, when I kick you -under the table it's a hint for you to say something about my hands." -She laid them on the table-cloth ingenuously. - -Clytie took one up and showed it to Mrs. Maxwell. "Did you ever see a -prettier wrist than that?" she said. - -"It's charming! I'm afraid she'd never be able to wear _my_ gloves." - -Fancy smiled good-temperedly. "That second finger is supposed to be -perfect," she said, looking at it reflectively. - -"It's queer that the fourth one hasn't a diamond on it," Mrs. Maxwell -suggested amiably. - -"It's only because I hate to fry my own eggs. I never could learn to -play on the cook-stove." - -"My dear, you'll never have to do that," said Clytie. "No man would be -brute enough to endanger such a complexion as you have!" - -Fancy rubbed her cheek. "Good enough to raise a blush on. Has it worn -off yet? I wish you could make me do it again; I'd rather wear a good -No. 5 blush than a silk-lined skirt." - -The third lady at the table was thin and dark, a piquante, -sharp-featured girl, with a dancing devil in her eyes. She had been -watching Fancy with an amused smile. "I thought I'd seen you before," -she said. "Now I remember. You're the young lady at Granthope's, -aren't you?" - -"Yes, that's my tag. I suppose I am entered for a regular blue-ribbon -freak. But I've seen you, too, Miss Dean, once or twice, haven't I?" - -Miss Dean hastened to say, "Mr. Granthope's a wonderful palmist, isn't -he? He has told me some extraordinary things about myself." She held -out her hand. "Do tell me what you think about my palm, please!" - -But Fancy refused. "Oh, I don't want to make enemies, just as we've -begun to break the ice. Every one would be jealous of the other, if I -told you what I saw. Besides, I ought to be drumming up more trade for -Mr. Granthope." - -"How long have you been with him?" Cayley asked. - -"Oh, about five years." - -Clytie bit her lip. Granthope himself had said two. - -"He has been fortunate to have such an able assistant as you," she said. - -"Oh, Frank's been mighty good to me. I owe him everything." Fancy said -it almost aggressively. - -Cayley caught Clytie's eye, and he smiled. - -"Well, Blanchard," she said, disregarding his hint, "am I in your list -of Improbabilities now?" - -"You're easily first! You certainly have surprised me." - -Heretofore Mrs. Maxwell, as chaperon of the party, had been the star, -but now Clytie, with her intuitive grip on this human complication, -established Fancy as the guest of honor. She drank Fancy's health, and -Fancy's smile became more opulent and irresistible. She kept Fancy's -quick retorts going like fire-crackers, she manipulated the conversation -so that it came back to Fancy at each digression. She put Fancy Gray in -the center of the stage and kept her there in the calcium till her -buoyant spirits soared. - -"Drink with Fancy!" cried Fancy Gray, and the company, Mrs. Maxwell -included, did her honor. "Drink with Fancy," she pleaded again, with a -pretty, infantile pout, and Clytie knocked glasses with her every time. -"Drink with Fancy," she repeated, and Cayley drew closer. It did not, -apparently, daunt Clytie. She had accepted Fancy Gray as Fancy Gray had -accepted her, and she did not withdraw an inch from her position. The -talk ran on, with Fancy always the center of interest. Her sallies were -original, brisk, and often witty. Fancy's brain grew more agile and -more bold. Also, her glances played more softly upon Blanchard Cayley. -He made the most of them, with an eye on Clytie, awaiting her look of -protest. But it did not come. - -About them the revelry still continued amidst the clattering of knives -and forks and dishes. Course after course had been brought on and -removed by the hurrying, overworked waiters. Once, a madcap couple -arose to dance a cake-walk up and down between the tables. Of the group -of eight singers in the corner, three had fallen into a mild stupor, -three were affectionately maudlin; two, still mirthful, sang noisily, -pounding upon the table. - -By twos and threes, now, parties began to leave. - -There was a popular song swinging through the room, accented by tinkling -glasses, when Fancy reached out her left hand, and took Clytie's. - -"I must be going, now; good night." - -Clytie held the hand. "Oh, must you? Wait and let us put you on your -car, anyway!" - -"No, I'll drift along. I can take care of myself, all right." - -She stopped, and, with her head slightly tilted to one side, looked -Clytie in the eyes. - -"What did you go to Granthope's for?" she asked. - -Clytie began to color, faintly. She seemed, at first, at a loss to know -how to reply. - -Fancy prompted her. "For a reading, of course--but what else?" - -"I don't know," said Clytie seriously. "Really I don't." - -"That's what I thought!" said Fancy. Then her troubled brow cleared, -and she turned to Cayley. - -"I must say 'fare-thee-well, my Clementine,'" she said. "You certainly -came to the scratch nobly. I hope it wasn't all Miss Payson's -prompting, though!" - -"Next time I hope I'll be able to bring you," he answered. "I'm sorry I -can't take you home now." - -"Who said I was going home?" she smiled. Then she looked at him, too, -and spoke to him with a variation of the quizzical tone she had used -toward Clytie. "I don't know what there is about you that makes such a -hit with me--what is it?" - -"The dagoes say I have the evil eye," he replied. - -She laughed. "That's it! I _thought_ it was something nice!" - -Then she rose and bowed debonairly to Mrs. Maxwell and Miss Dean. "Good -night, ladies, this is where I disappear. I'm afraid you've impregnated -me with social aspirations. Watch for me at the Fortnightly!" - -The collarless youth stretched a glass toward her in salutation and -sang: "Good-by, Dolly Gray!" There was a burst of laughter that drew -all eyes to Fancy Gray. - -Cayley held her coat for her, and as she turned to him with thanks, a -sudden mad impulse stirred her; she audaciously put up her lips to be -kissed. He did not fail her. The ladies at the table looked on, -catching breath, stopping their talk. A waiter, passing, stood -transfixed. Every one watched. Then a cheer broke out and a clapping -of hands all over the restaurant. - -Fancy Gray bowed to her audience with dignity, as if she were on the -stage. Then, with a comprehensive nod to her entertainers, she passed -demurely down the aisle between the tables. Every eye followed her. - -At the counter she turned her head to see Blanchard Cayley still -standing by his place. She came hurriedly back as if drawn by some -magic spell, blushing hotly, with a strange look in her eyes. She -looked up at him as a little girl might look up at her father. The room -was hushed. It was too much for that audience to comprehend. The act -had almost lost its effrontery; the audacity had become, somehow, -pathos. - -Fancy walked like a somnambulist, her eyes wide open, staring at -Blanchard. He had turned paler, but stood still, with his gaze fastened -upon her, reveling, characteristically, in a new sensation. The ladies -in his party did not speak. Nobody spoke. The room was like a -well-governed school at study hour, every eye fixed upon Fancy Gray. -Whatever secret emotion it was that drew her back, it was for its moment -compelling, casting out every trace of self-consciousness. She seemed to -show her naked soul. She reached him, and again he put his arms about -her and kissed her full on the lips. Again the tumult broke forth. - -In that din and confusion she slipped back to the door. There was -another hush. Then the crowd gasped audibly and tongues were loosened -in a babel of exclamations. With a cry, some one pointed to the window. -There stood Fancy Gray, pressing through the glass, histrionically, one -last kiss to Cayley--and disappeared into the night. Half a dozen men -jumped up to follow her, and turned back to account for a new silence -that had abruptly fallen on the room. - -Blanchard Cayley was still standing. He had snatched a wine-glass from -the table, and now, with a silencing gesture, he held it above his head. -He was perfectly calm, he had lost nothing of his usual elegance of -manner. - -"I don't know who she is, but here's to her!" he called out to the -roomful of listeners. "Bottoms-up, everybody!" - -He drank off his toast. Glasses were raised all over the room. Men -sprang upon their chairs, put one foot on the table and drank Fancy -Gray's health. Then the crowd yelled again. - -In the confusion Mrs. Maxwell leaned to Clytie. "I don't know, my dear, -whether I'll dare to chaperon you _here_ again!" She herself was as -excited as any one there. - -Frankie Dean's thin lips curled in a sneer. "Oh, they call this -Bohemia, don't they! Did you ever see anything so cheap and vulgar in -your life? I feel positively dirty!" - -Cayley watched for Clytie's answer. It came with a jet of fervor. -"Why," she exclaimed, "don't you see it's real? It's _real_! It isn't -the way we care to do things, but they're all alive and human--every one -of them!" - -"Bah! It's all a pose. They're pretending they're devilish." - -"I don't care!" Clytie's eyes fired. "Even so, there's a live person -in each of them--they're just as real as we are. I never understood it -before. Look under the surface of it--there's blood there!" - -"It's San Francisco!" said Cayley, "that explains everything. Oh, this -town!" He sat down shaking his head. - -The old _patron_ bustled excitedly through the room. - -"Take-a de foot off de table! Take-a de foot off de table!" he -protested. "You spoil the table clot'--you break-a de dishes! I don't -like dat! Get down, you! Get down!" - - - - - *CHAPTER VI* - - *SIDE LIGHTS* - - - "Mrs. Chenoweth Maxwell would be very glad to see Mr. Francis - Granthope next Friday evening at nine o'clock for an informal - Chinese costume supper. Kindly arrive masked." - - -This invitation marked a climacteric in Granthope's social career. It -was supplemented by an explanation over the telephone that left no doubt -in the mind of the palmist as to the genuineness and friendliness of its -cordiality. He had appeared already at several assemblies of the -smarter set and had, by this time, a considerable acquaintance with the -fashionable side of town. Of the information thus acquired he had made -good use in his business. He had always gone, however, in his -professional capacity as a paid entertainer; and no matter how -considerately he had been treated, the fact that he was not present as a -guest had always been obvious. He was in a class with the operatic star -who consents to sing in private and maintains her delicate position of -unstable social equilibrium with sensitive self-consciousness. In his -rise from obscurity, at first, he had been pleased with such -invitations, seeing that they brought him money and an increasing fame. -He was now sought after as a picturesque and personable character. -Women evinced a fearful delight in his presence; they treated him -sometimes as if he were a handsome highwayman, tamed to drawing-room -amenities, sometimes as they treated those mysterious Hindus in robes -and turbans who occasionally appeared to prate of esoteric faiths in the -salons of the Illuminati. - -Granthope's sense of humor and his cynical view of life, had, so far, -been sufficient to preserve his equanimity at the threshold of -fashionable society. His equivocal position was tolerable, for he knew -well enough what a sham the whole game was, and how artificial was the -social position which permitted a woman to snub him or patronize him in -public, and did not prevent her following him up in private. He had seen -ladies raise their eyebrows at his appearance in the Western Addition, -who had visited him for a chance to talk to him with astonishing -egotism. - -There was a strain in him, however, the heritage of some unknown -ancestry, that, since meeting Miss Payson, began to give him more and -more discomfort in the presence of such company. He had risen above the -level of the mere professional entertainer, and had become fastidious. -Clytie had met him upon terms of equality. Her frankness had flattered -him, and her implied promise of friendship was like the opening of a -door which had, hitherto, always been shut to him. - -Mrs. Maxwell's bid, therefore, was a distinct advance, and he welcomed -it, not so much because it unlocked for him a new sort of recognition, -as that it furthered the game he had in hand. He could scarce have -defined that game to himself. He was playing neither for position nor -money nor power--his sport was perhaps as purely intellectual as that of -chess, a delight in the pitting of his mind against others. - -Mrs. Maxwell, with the tact of a woman of sensibility, had made it plain -to him that he was invited for his own sake, upon terms of hospitality. -As a lion, yes, she could not deny that. She confessed that she wished -to tell people that he was coming--but he would not be annoyed by -requests for entertainment. With another, he might have suspected that -this was only a subterfuge to avoid the necessity of paying him his -price, but Mrs. Maxwell's character was too well known to him for that -possibility to be entertained. - -He set himself, therefore, to obtain a costume for the affair at the -"House of Increasing Prosperity," known to Americans as the shop of Chew -Hing Lung and Company. With the assistance of the affable and -discerning Li Go Ball, the only Chinese in the quarter who seemed to -know what he required, Granthope selected his outfit, a costume of the -character worn by the more prosperous merchant class of Celestials. - -Granthope had fitted up the room next beyond his studio for a -bed-chamber and sitting-room, access to it being had through the heavy -velvet arras concealing the door between the two apartments. The place -was severely masculine in its appointments and order, but bespoke the -tasteful employment of considerable money. Here he had his library -also, for since his earliest youth he had been a great reader. -Prominent on its shelves were many volumes of medical books, and, to -offset this sobriety, the lives and memoirs of the famous adventurers of -history--Casanova, Cagliostro, Fenestre, Abbe Faublas, Benvenuto -Cellini, Salvator Rosa, Chevalier d'Eon. - -A massive Jewish seven-branch candlestick illuminated the place this -evening, splashing with yellow lights the carved gilded frame of a huge -oval mirror, glowing on the belly of a bronze vase, enriching the depths -of color in the dull green walls, smoldering in the warm tones of the -great Persian rug on the floor, twinkling upon the polished surface of -the heavy mahogany table in the center of the room. But it was -concentrated chiefly upon the gorgeous oriental hues where his Chinese -costume was flung, flaming upon the couch. There the colors were -commingled as on an artist's palette, cold steel blue, pale lemon -yellow, olive green that was nearly old gold, lavender that was almost -pink in the candle-light, a circle of red inside the cap, and flashes of -pale cream-colored bamboo paper here and there. - -He had already put on the silken undersuit, a costume in itself, with -its straight-falling lines and complementary colors. Fancy Gray was -helping him with the other garments, enjoying it as much as a little -girl dressing a doll, trying on each article herself first and posing in -it before the mirror. - -First, she wrapped the bottom of his lavender trousers about his ankles, -over white cotton socks, tying them close with the silk bands, carefully -concealing the knot and ends as Go Ball had instructed him. She held -the black boat-shaped satin shoes for him to put on. Next she tied -about his waist the pale yellow sash so that both ends met at the side -and hung together in two striped party-colored ends. Then the short, -padded jacket, and over all this the long, steel-blue, brocaded silk -robe, caught in at the waist with a corded belt. Lastly the olive-green -coat patterned with brocaded mons containing the swastika, and with long -sleeves almost hiding the tips of his fingers. Upon its gold -bullet-shaped buttons she hung the tasseled spectacle-case and his ivory -snuff-box. - -"Oh, Frank, I forgot!" said Fancy, as she paused with his wig of -horse-hair eked out with braided silk threads, in her hand. "Lucie was -here to-day." - -Granthope was at the mirror, disguising himself with a long, drooping -mustache and thin goatee. He put down his bottle of liquid gum and -turned to her. - -"What did she say?" - -"Why, she said she didn't have time to wait, and didn't want to tell me -anything." - -"Why didn't she write?" - -"Said she was afraid to. You're to manage some way to see her to-night, -if you can, and she has a tip for you." - -"H'm!" Granthope, with Fancy's assistance, drew on the wig, and clapped -over his black satin skullcap with its red coral button atop. Then he -paused again reflectively. - -"It must be something important. If I can only get hold of some good -scandal in this 'four hundred' crowd I can have some fun with 'em." - -"I should be afraid to trust these ladies' maids; they might give you -away any time, and then where'd you be? That would be a pretty good -scandal, itself." Fancy shook her head. - -"Aren't they all in love with me?" he said, smiling grimly. - -Fancy looked dubious. "That's just the trouble. 'Hell hath no fury like -a woman scorned.'" - -Granthope now laughed outright. "Fancy, when you get literary you're -too funny for words." - -She bridled, stuck out her little pointed tongue at him, and walked into -the front office, where she sat down to attend to some details of her -own work. At last she finished her writing and went to the closet to -put on her hat and jacket. - -"Oh, Frank!" she called out. - -"Yes, Fancy!" - -"You don't think I'm jealous, do you?" - -"Yes!" he laughed. - -She appeared at the doorway and called again: - -"Mr. Granthope!" He was busy, and did not answer. - -"Mr. Granthope!" - -He looked up, now, to see her put her thumb to her nose with a playfully -derisive gesture, such as gamins use. - -He put his head back and laughed. - -Then she looked at him seriously, saying, "When I am, you'll never know -it. I'm not afraid of ladies' maids. When you really get into your own -class it will be time enough for me to worry. But I wish you wouldn't -use those girls. They're all cats, and they'll scratch!" - -She was standing before the mirror inside the closet door, with her hat -pin between her lips, adjusting her toque to the masses of her russet -hair, when there came a knock at the hall door. She looked round and -raised her eyebrows, then, after closing the door to the anteroom of the -studio, she called "Come in!" - -Madam Spoll, in a black silk gown covered with a raglan, entered. She -wore a man's small, low-crowned, Derby hat trimmed with a yellow bird's -wing. - -"How d'you do?" said Fancy, not too cordially. - -"Good evening," Madam Spoll panted; then, as her breath was spent with -climbing the stairs, she dropped into a chair and gasped heavily. Fancy -went on with her preparations without further attention to her visitor. - -"Frank in?" was Madam Spoll's query as soon as she could breathe. - -"Meaning Mr. Granthope?" said Fancy airily. - -"You know who I mean well enough!" was her pettish reply. - -"Oh, _do_ I?"--and Fancy, her costume now in readiness for the street, -walked jauntily into the anteroom and knocked at the door. "Madam Spoll -is here to see you," she called out. - -"Just a moment," he answered. - -Fancy, pulling her jacket behind, wriggling, and smoothing down her -skirt over her hips, walked to the window and cast a glance out. Then -she slammed the drawers of her desk, put a hair-pin between the leaves -of her novel, straightened her pen-holders on the stand, stoppered a -red-ink bottle, and marched out without looking to the left or to the -right. - -Madam Spoll glared at her in silence till she had gone; and then, with -an agility extraordinary in so stout a woman, she sprang to the closet, -opened the door and picked up an envelope lying on the floor. It had -been opened. She took the letter out, gave it a hurried glance and then -returned to her seat, stuffing the paper up under her basque. - -The letter was short enough for her practised eye to master the contents -almost at a glance. It ran: - - -My dear Mr. Granthope:--I hope you didn't take offense at my frankness -the other day--if I was too candid don't misinterpret it and my interest -in you. Sometime I may explain it more intelligently, but for the -present believe me to be, Your friend, CLYTIE PAYSON. - - -Granthope came out after she had concealed the note. He was fully -dressed and almost unrecognizable in his costume. He walked gracefully, -with the light-footed stride of a mandarin, and saluted her with mock -gravity. Madam Spoll stared at him with her mouth open. For a moment -she did not appear to know him. Then she chuckled. - -"For the land's sakes, what are you up to now, Frank? Doing the Chinese -doctor's stunt and selling powdered sea-horses?" - -He laughed at her surprise. "No, I'm doing society," he explained. - -"Do 'em good, then! Lord, you are a-butting in this time, ain't you! I -wouldn't know you from a Sam Yup highbinder on a Chiny New Year in that -rig! What is it, a fancy-dress ball at the Mechanics' Pavilion?" - -"Worse than that," he laughed; "this is a private supper-party in -costume and I am a guest." - -"Lord, you are getting on, for fair! You ain't been conning them swell -girls for nothing, have you? And, to be frank with you, I always thought -you was after something very different. I was kind of afraid they'd -spoil you, too. It's a good graft, Frank, and if I can do anything to -give you a lift, just say the word." - -"Thanks," he said dryly, taking a seat in front of her and pulling his -long sleeves up to his wrist. - -She kept her eyes upon him, as if fascinated by the gorgeousness of his -costume, seemingly a little in fear of his elegant manners as well. -Then she broke out, pettishly: - -"Say, Fancy's getting pretty fresh, seems to me. She's a very different -girl from what she was when she used to play spook for us. She was glad -enough once to be polite--butter wouldn't melt in her mouth them days!" - -"Oh, you mustn't mind Fancy; she's all right when you get used to her." - -"She's pretty, if she is sassy," the medium acknowledged. "I can hardly -blame you, Frank. I s'pose you find a good use for her. She seems to -be pretty fond of you." - -Granthope scowled. "Never mind about her. She's a great help to me -here, and I like her--that's enough for you. You didn't come here to -talk about Fancy Gray." - -"I should think your ladies would object, though," the medium pursued. -"It looks kind of funny, don't it? She stays here pretty late, it seems -to me, if any one was to notice it. Some ladies don't like that sort of -thing; they get jealous. Fancy's too pretty by half!" - -"That'll be about all about Fancy Gray. Suppose we change the subject." - -"Very good then; we'll change it to another girl that's as pretty. How -would Miss Payson do to talk about?" - -"What about her?" - -"A whole lot about her. How are you getting along with her, for the -first thing?" - -Granthope smiled with an air of satisfaction, but contented himself with -remarking, "Oh, I'm getting on all right. I can attend to my own end of -the game, thank you. I've handled women before." - -"More ways than one, eh?" - -"She's not that kind. Don't you believe it!" - -"Then what, for the Lord's sake, are you doing with her!" Madam Spoll -gave her words a playful accent that he resented. Then she added, more -seriously: "Frank, d'you know, I believe you could marry that girl. If -you have changed yourself enough to like that kind, you might go farther -and fare worse. She'd give you a good stand-in with the Western -Addition, too. And we might help you out a bit; who knows! I can see -all sorts of things in it, just as it stands." - -"I haven't begun to think of anything like that," he replied carelessly. - -"Of course not. I know well enough what you was thinking of. But you -take my advice and don't spoil a big thing for a little one. Work her -easy and you can land her. That's better a good sight than playing with -her in your usual way." - -He rose and walked to the window and looked out, vaguely annoyed. He -turned, in a moment, to ask, "Has the old man made a will?" - -"D'you mean to say you ain't found that out yet? Lord, Frank, you _are_ -getting slow. I don't know. I ain't come to that yet. But if he -ain't, I'll see that he does make one, and that's where I can look out -for your interests." - -There was a slight sneer on his face. "Oh, don't trouble yourself. -I've my own system, you know. I haven't made many breaks yet. It's -likely that I can help you more than you can me. That reminds me; you -might take these notes. It's about all I have got from the girl so far. -They may come in handy." - -He went to his desk, took a couple of cards from a tin box in the top -drawer, and handed them to Madam Spoll. She looked them over -interestedly. - -"Much obliged. H'm! So she thinks she's a psychic, does she? They -might be something in that. Supposed to be engaged to B. Cayley. Well, -you'll have to fix _him_, won't you! Father writing a book--ah! That's -just what we want. Say, that's great! Me and Vixley will work that -book, don't you worry! Wears a ring with 'Clytie' inside. Turquoises. -Mole on left cheek. Goes to Mercantile Library three to five. Sun-dial -with doll buried under it. That's funny. I wish it was papers, or -something important--I don't see what we could do with a doll, do you? -Still, you never can tell. All's generally fish that comes to my net. -I've known stranger things than dolls. Making a birthday present of a -hand-bound volume of what? Montaigne? What's that? Say, what's this -about Madam Grant, anyway?" - -He turned to her and held out his hand for the card, now distinctly -impatient. "I don't know--that is, I forgot I put that on. There's -nothing there that will help you, I guess. You'd better let me have it -back, after all. It's chiefly about Miss Payson, anyway, and that isn't -your business." - -Madam Spoll refused to return the card. Instead, she tucked it into the -front of her dress, saying, "Oh, I don't know. You never know what may -be useful. It's well to be prepared." - -"See here; you understand that you're to keep your hands off Miss -Payson," said Granthope with emphasis. "She's my game. Do what you like -with the old man, but leave me alone, that's all!" - -"Don't you fret yourself about that. Ain't we worked together before, -for gracious sakes? I guess I can mind my own business!" - -The palmist walked over to the fireplace, stood leaning against the -mantel and kicked the fender meditatively, somewhat disturbed by Madam -Spoll's presence. He had seen Miss Payson only twice, yet he had already -come to the point where he was annoyed to hear her so cold-bloodedly -discussed, and his own heartless notes quoted. Even less could he enjoy -thinking of so fine and delicate a creature in the toils of Vixley and -Spoll. No, she was for his own plucking. She was a quarry well worth -his chase. To share his plans with such vulgar plotters seemed to -cheapen the prize, to rub off the bloom of her beauty and charm. He -would play a more exquisite, a more subtle game. It would not do, -however, to break with the mediums. They were still useful to him, in -spite of his assertion of independence. They knew, besides, altogether -too much about him for him to dare to kindle their resentment. - -If Madam Spoll had noticed his detachment she did not show it. She -herself had, evidently, been thinking something over, and now she -interrupted his meditation. - -"Say, Frank, about that old Madam Grant, now--" - -"She wasn't so old, was she?" - -"How d'you know she wasn't?" - -He covered his mistake as well as he could with: "Oh, I've heard she was -a young woman, not more than thirty, when she died." - -"Well, it's so far back, it seems as though she must have been old. You -know I fished a little with what you give me about her and Payson; -putting that together with what Lulu Ellis got, I believe I can work -him. Funny you happened on that bit. Did the Payson girl tell you?" - -"Oh, I got it--she let it out in a way. You know." - -Madam Spoll chuckled. "Lord, they tell us more'n we ever tell _them_, -don't they! But I was saying: I wish I could find out more about that -little boy Madam Grant used to keep. I wonder was he her son, now?" - -"I suppose you might find out something if you looked up the files of -the _Chronicle_." - -"That's a good idea. I'll do it. D'you know what year it was?" - -"1877." - -"How d'you know?" - -He walked away from her carelessly, replying: "That's the idea I got of -it. About that time." - -"Frank," she said, "ain't you ever got any clue to who you are, yet? -Never got any hint at all?" - -"Never." - -"Why don't you go to some real sure-enough psychic? They might help. -I've known 'em to do wonderful things." - -Granthope gazed at her and laughed loud. "_You?_" was all he could say. - -She drew herself up. "Yes, _me_! Sure. Why, you don't think I -consider they ain't no genuine ones, even if I do fake a little, do -you?" - -"You actually believe there's a medium alive that can tell such things?" - -"I'm positive of it. Why, when I begun, I give some remarkable tests -myself. I used to get names, sometimes. But there _are_ straight ones. -Not here, maybe, but in New York. You could send a lock of your hair." - -He went up to her and clapped his hand on her shoulder, still laughing. -"You're beautiful, my dear; you're positively beautiful!" - -She turned a surprised face to him. "What in the world d'you mean?" - -He shook his head and walked away. "Preserve your illusions! It's too -wonderful. I'll be believing in palmistry, next I'll believe myself in -love, after that. And then--I'll believe I'm honest, dignified, -honorable, modest!" His tone grew, word by word, more hard and cynical. -Then he turned to her with a whimsical expression: "So you believe your -doll's alive!" - -"I've no time to talk nonsense any longer!" she exclaimed, rising -ponderously. "I can't make you out at all, Frank. Sometimes you're -practical as insurance and sometimes you're half bug-house. Maybe it's -them clothes!" She regarded him carefully. - -He bowed to her with mock courtesy, spreading his fan. - -"Lord, you _do_ look like a fool in that Chink's rig. Have a good time -with 'em--but keep your eyes and your ears open!" - -She went out. - -He was about to turn out the electric lights and leave, when he heard a -knock at the door. He opened it, and saw the little freckled-face girl -who had come to his office the day he had first met Clytie Payson. He -recognized her instantly, but she, seeing him so extraordinarily -disguised, drew back in surprise. - -"Did you want Mr. Granthope?" he asked. - -"Yes!" She finally made him out, but still gazed at him, somewhat -frightened. Her face was bloodless. - -"Come in," he said kindly. "I'm Granthope. You'll have to excuse this -costume." He set a chair for her, but she stood, timidly regarding him. - -"I'm awfully afraid I'm bothering you, Mr. Granthope, coming so late--I -know I ought to have come in your office hours, but I couldn't possibly -get off--and I did want to see you awfully! D'you suppose you could -help me a little, now? I thought you might be able to, you said such -wonderful things when I was here before, and I just can't stand it not -to know, and I don't know what to do." - -"Do sit down. Tell me what's the matter, my dear." - -She crept into a chair, and sat with nervous hands, staring at him. - -"Why, don't you remember?" She gazed at him in alarm. "Oh, I've -depended so on what you said--it's all that kept me going!" - -"Just pardon me a moment, please." He went to his desk drawer and began -to fumble over his card catalogue. "I have a memorandum to make. Then -I'll talk to you." He came to the card, and made a penciled note and -glanced it over. Then he returned to her and sat down. "Now tell me -all about it," he said gravely. "I remember perfectly, of course. Bill -was in the Philippines, wasn't he? You hadn't heard from him for some -time, and you were expecting him home on the next transport?" - -She sat, limply huddled in her chair, gazing at him through her sad -eyes. - -"He did come back. I couldn't meet the boat. I missed him. And now -he's gone!" - -"He didn't let you know where he went?" - -"Oh, Mr. Granthope, it's too awful! I can't bear it, but I could stand -anything if I could only find him! You _must_ find him for me." - -"I'll do what I can, my dear. Your hand shows that it will all come out -for the best. I wouldn't worry." - -"Oh, but you don't know! You don't know how bad it is!" she moaned. "I -thought you might know. He was wounded in a battle." - -"But he came back?" - -"Yes." Then she burst into a hurried torrent of words. "He didn't want -me to know. He was shot in the face--his nose was shot off--it's -awful--some of the men told me about it. Bill was ashamed to have me -see him--he tried to make me think he wasn't in love with me any more, -so I'd go away. But I knew better. Bill's so proud, Mr. Granthope, you -don't know how proud he is! He'd rather leave me than make me suffer. -But what do I care for his nose being gone? Why, Bill's a hero! He had -more nerve than Hobson, anyway! Just because he was the only man in his -company that dared to go through a swamp, under fire, to save his -lieutenant--and he brought him in on his back, Bill did! Why, Bill's -father was killed at Antietam, but Bill's luck was a heap worse than -that! He has to live without a face and be despised and sneered at -because he did his duty! Oh, if I can only find him, I'll give him -something that will make him forget. Don't I love him all the more for -it? He's tried to sacrifice his whole life and happiness only for -me--just to save me from suffering when I look at him. D'you know many -men who'd do that for a girl? I don't!" - -She broke down and sobbed convulsively. The story seemed to Granthope -like a scene from a play, and his inability to comfort her smote him -while she fought to restrain her tears. - -"And you can't find out where he is?" - -"No. The company was mustered out, and Bill just naturally disappeared. -Nobody knows where he is. I've asked all his officers, and all the men I -could find." - -He took her hand and looked at it soberly for a moment. - -"It will all come out right, my dear. You trust me. There's your line -of fate as clean as a string. I see trouble in it, but only for a -little while. You'll be married, too. You must have patience and wait, -that's all. Suppose you come back and see me in a week or so, and tell -me if you've heard any news of him. Meanwhile, I'll see what I can find -out myself. There's a cross in your hand--that's a good sign. Bill -still loves you, and he won't let you suffer long." - -He felt the pitiful emptiness of his words, but he had been too affected -by her narrative to give her the smooth banalities that were always -ready to his tongue. She got up and looked at him through her tears. - -"You have helped me, Mr. Granthope. Somehow I knew you could. I'll be -in again sometime. How much is it, please?" - -"My dear girl, when you come again, you can thank the young lady whom -you saw here before. Don't thank me." - -She looked at him silently, then she took his hand and shook it very -hard. "You mean that lady with red hair who sits at the desk?" - -"Yes." - -"I liked her when I saw her. She was nice to me. Is--is she Mrs. -Granthope?" - -Granthope shook his head and smiled. - -The girl blushed at her indiscretion. "I kind of thought--she seemed to -be, well, fond of you. I mean, the way she looked at you, I didn't know -but what you were married. I hope you'll excuse me." She was visibly -confused, and evidently had said much more than she had intended. - -"My dear," Granthope replied, "she's far too good for me!" - -The girl shook her head slowly, as she rose to go. A smile struggled to -her face as if, for the first time, she noted the incongruity of the -palmist's costume, then, with a grateful look she went out. - -As soon as he had left, Granthope sat down at the desk and wrote a note -upon a memorandum pad. It read: - - -Fancy-- - -To-morrow morning please go down to the ticket office at the Ferry, and -see if you can find out where a soldier, with his nose shot off, bought -a ticket to, about ten days ago. - - -He rose, yawned, stared thoughtfully at the cast; for a few moments, -then snapped his fingers and walked to the window. His cab was waiting. -He went down-stairs, got into the vehicle and drove off. - - -The Maxwells lived at Presidio Heights, in one of the newer residences -of the aristocratic Western Addition, a handsome brick house decorated -with Romanesque fantasies in terra cotta, behind a bronze rail guarded -by heraldic griffins. Granthope walked up under the lantern-hung awning -five minutes before the hour and was shown to a room up-stairs. - -Here there were several men waiting and adjusting their garments. All -but one were in Chinese costume; this was a fat, red-faced man, with a -white mustache. He was in evening dress, and kept exclaiming: - -"I won't make a damned fool of myself for anybody. It's all nonsense!" -He was obviously embarrassed at being the only nonconformist. - -"Sully" Maxwell, arrayed in a magnificently embroidered Chinese -officer's summer uniform--a long, flounced robe, with the imperial -dragons and their balls of fire, the rainbow border and the all-over -cloud-pattern--was helping the men to dress, chaffing each of them in -turn. He was middle-aged and prosperous-looking, typically a "man's -man" and "hail-fellow-well-met," despite his immense fortune. He -greeted Granthope cordially, without hint of patronage, and introduced -him to the others. - -Of two, Keith and Fernigan, Granthope had heard much. They were the -pets of a certain smartish social circle, in virtue of their cleverness -and wit. They were of the kind who habitually do "stunts" and were -always expected to make the company merry and informal. Keith was a -tall, wiry, flap-eared, smiling fellow, made up as a Chinese -stage-comedian, with his nose painted white. Fernigan, short, stout to -rotundity, almost bald, with spectacles, and a round, Irish face, was -dressed in woman's costume, head-dress, earrings, green coat and pink -silk trousers. He was naturally droll, a wag at all times, and his -whimsical way constantly approached a shocking limit but never quite -reached it. He was speaking a good parody of the Cantonese dialect to -his partner, and making eccentric gestures. - -Both he and Keith greeted Granthope with mock gravity, addressing him in -pidgin English. Granthope answered with what spirit he had, and, taking -his place at the mirror, placed upon his nose an enormous pair of -blue-glass spectacles, horn-rimmed. They disguised him effectually. - -As he left the room, a man with a pointed, reddish beard entered, -dressed in long flowing robes of plum-colored silk. - -Granthope caught the greeting: "Hello, Blan!" and turned with curiosity -to see the Mr. Cayley of whom he had heard so much. He did not, -however, wait to be introduced, but passed on. - -The great reception-room down-stairs presented one of the most -beautiful, as well as one of the most original, of San Francisco -interiors. It was entirely of redwood, panels six feet in width all -round the walls extending up to a narrow shelf supported by carved -brackets. The low-studded ceiling was broken by a row of finely adzed -beams, carved tastefully at the ends. A feature of the reception-room -was a wide fireplace of terra cotta surmounted by a mantel, consisting -of at least a dozen combined moldings, each member of which showed a -striking individuality of detail. The place was illuminated by side -brackets in the form of copper sconces. Granthope entered, quite at his -ease, with a long, swinging, heel-and-toe stride that comported well -with his costume. - -There were already some half-dozen persons sitting about the room, most -of whom seemed afraid to talk for fear of disclosing their identity, or -perhaps, a little too self-conscious in their garish raiment. The -silence, if it had not been painful, would have been absurd. Granthope -looked in vain for any sign of his hostess' presence, and then -suspecting that she, too, was masked to enjoy the piquancy of the -situation, he saluted one of the ladies, sat down beside her and began a -conversation. Knowing that few were acquainted with him he had no need -to disguise his voice. He sat on a straight chair stiffly, as he had -seen Chinese actors pose at the theater, his toes turned out in opposite -directions so as to insure the proper fall of the skirt of his robe, and -disclose, through a narrow gap, the splendor of his lavender trousers. -His partner answered him in whispers. - -As he sat talking nonsense gaily, a woman came into the room with so -perfect an imitation of the "tottering lily" walk affected by high-caste -Chinese women, that he turned his eyes upon her in delight at her -acting. - -She was of a good height; and her white embroidered shoes, whose heels -were placed in the center of the sole, gave her nearly two inches more. -Her costume was a rainbow of subdued contrasting colors. It was evident -at a glance that every garment she wore was old, valuable and consistent -with her character of bride. - -The smoothly coiled rolls of her black wig were decorated by numerous -gold ornaments and artificial flowers. Across her forehead was a -head-dress of gold filigree-work and kingfisher feathers; its ribbon was -tied in the back of her head and fell in fanciful ends. She wore two -coats--the outer was of yellow brocaded silk, a pastel shade, trimmed -with a wide stripe of close blue embroidery and rows of looking-glass -buttons--the inner one, shorter, was of blue and black appliqued work in -bold, virile pattern. Below this showed her closely-pleated skirt of -old rose with a panel of gold embroidery in the center; this, as she -walked, revealed occasional glimpses of a pair of full straight green -trousers trimmed with horizontal stripes, and a flash of white silk -stockings. Necklaces she had in profusion, one of jade, one of purple -mother-of-pearl, one of white coral, one of sandalwood; and others in -graded sizes and colors. In her right hand she carried a narrow -gold-paper fan; on her left wrist was a jade bracelet, and, pulled -through it, a green silk handkerchief with a purple fringe. - -Her entry made a sensation, as she courtesied gravely to each one in -turn. So, playing her part cleverly, she came to Granthope, who arose -and greeted her with a dignified salaam. So far they were the only ones -who had at all entered into the spirit of the occasion, and he did his -best to meet her character and play up to her elaborate salutation. He -offered his arm, then, and escorted her, with considerable manner, to a -long settee. - -In all this pantomime she had preserved a serious expression, the -repressed, almost inanely impassive, set face of a Chinese lady of rank; -but when at last she was seated, she turned full upon him and smiled -under her mask. - -The effect upon Granthope was a sudden thrill of overpowering delight. -He was deliciously weakened by the revelation. His breath came -suddenly, with a swift intake--the blood rioted through his veins. - -She wore a much wider mask than the others, so that nothing but her -mouth and chin was shown. But that mouth was so tempting, with its -ravishing, floating smile, and that smile so concentrated in its -limitation to a single feature, that it turned his head. The lips were -narrow and bright; the blood seemed about to ooze through the skin. The -upper one was curved in a tantalizing bow between the drops of soft -shadow at the corners. The cleft above seemed to draw her lip a little -upward to disclose a line of small, perfect, regular teeth of a -delicate, bluish white translucence, which, parting, showed a narrow -rosy tongue. The lower lip was that delicious fraction of an inch -lesser than the upper one which, in profile, gave her a touch of -youthful, almost boyish, wistfulness. Her round, firm chin showed, from -the same point of view, a classic right angle to her throat, where the -line swept down the proud column of her neck, there to swing tenderly -outward toward her breast. - -He could not take his eyes from her, but he had not the will to restrain -his staring. The spell was irresistible; he drank her deep and could -not get enough. For these whirling moments he was at the mercy of the -attraction of sex, impersonal, yet distilled to an intoxicating essence. -Had it not been for her mask hiding the upper part of her face, had her -eyes corrected this almost wanton loveliness with some reserve or with -the effect of a more intellectual character, had his glance even been -given a chance to wander over equally enchanting components of that -expression, he undoubtedly would not have been so moved by the sight of -her laughing, tempting mouth. But that, faultlessly formed, exquisitely -sexed, whimsically provocative, had for him, with the rest of her face -hidden, an original and freshly flavored delight. In the spectrum of -her beauty the violets and blues of her spirit, the greens and orange of -her mind were for the nonce inhibited; only the vibrant red rays of her -physical personality smote him, burning him with their radiance. But -there was, he felt, no malice behind that smile, though it was -mischievous; there was nothing wanton there, though in this guise her -lips seemed abandoned and inviting. There was, in their flexed contour, -in the engaging mobility of their poise, no consciousness of anything -sensually appealing. It was, rather, as if he gained some secret aspect -of the woman beneath and behind all conventions of morality, of modesty, -and of discretion. So far, indeed, she seemed, in a way, without a -personality. She was Woman smiling at him. The vision was too much for -him. - -She bent toward him and her lips whispered: - -"How do you do, Mr. Granthope? Why are you staring so? I thought of -course you knew me--but I really believe you don't." - -Even then he did not recognize her, and was profoundly embarrassed. -That he should fail to remember such a mouth as that! He took her hand -which had been concealed in her long sleeve and looked at it. She had -glued long false nails of celluloid to her little fingers, completing -the picture of a Chinese lady of quality. At the first sight of her -palm, at the first touch of it, even, he knew her, and, with a rush, a -dozen thoughts bewildered him. This was she whom he had been able so to -influence, to cajole. He had, in a way, a claim to this comeliness. -She had favored him, had confessed her interest in him. They were, -besides, bound by a secret tie. He might hope for more of her, perhaps. -She was already somewhat in his power; he had, at least, the capacity to -sway her. She, alluring, delightful, might perhaps be gained, and in -some way, won. She had known him at a glance--there was her prescience -again! She had welcomed him, in assurance of her favor. What then was -possible? What dared he not hope for? A great wave of desire overcame -him. - -Meanwhile he answered, distracted and unready: - -"You knew me then? I thought I was pretty well disguised." - -"Oh, you've forgotten how hard it is to deceive me. I should never try -it, if I were you. Of course I knew you! I should know you if you had -covered your head in a sack." - -He stammered, and he was not often confused enough to stammer. "I don't -know how to tell you how beautiful you are, Miss Payson." - -She spoke low and slowly, with a wayward inflection, "Oh, I'm so sorry." -Then she added, "I scarcely dared speak to you, you are so magnificent." - -"I would need to be, to be worthy of sitting beside you," he replied, -his wits floating, unmanageable. - -"Did you get my note?" - -"Yes, I want to thank you for it." - -"I hope you've forgiven me." - -"Of course, I was only flattered by your frankness." - -"It's so easy to be frank with you," she said. "You see, I'm perfectly -myself with you, even _en masque_. I doubt if any of my friends would -know me as I am with you." - -"But I've seen a new 'you' that I haven't known before." - -"Then she owes her existence to your presence. But how am I different? -Tell me." - -"You take my breath away. You say such charming things to me that it -deprives me of the power of answering you--anything I could say seems -ineffective and cheap. You get ahead of me so. Really, you'll have to -be positively rude to me before I can summon presence of mind enough to -say anything gallant." - -Again her lips curved daintily. Her voice was dulcet: - -"Then I am afraid I shall never hear any nice things from you." - -He was reduced; baffled by her suavity. He sought in vain for a fitting -return. He had the impulse to take advantage of her courtesy, however, -and gratify some portion of his desire to be nearer her. She wore, -suspended from the gold top-button of her "qua," a red silk tassel with -a filigree network of silver threads, containing a gold heart-shaped -scent bottle. He reached to it and tried to remove it from its place, -covering this slight advance jocosely, with the remark: - -"Is that your heart you have there? It seems to be pure gold." - -She did not resent what might possibly have been considered a -familiarity, but smiled when she saw that he could not remove the bottle -from the meshes. - -"I'm afraid you won't be able to get at it, that way." There was a -touch of playful emphasis in her voice. - -Their hands met as she assisted him, showing him how to pull up the -sliding ring and open the net. At that contact he became a little giddy. -The blood surged to her cheeks. She took out the bottle and handed it -to him. That moment was tense with feeling. Then she said, as he tried -in vain to unstopper the little jar: - -"Can you open it, do you think?" - -He attempted futilely to open the little heart. "I'm afraid I can't," he -said disconsolately. "Won't you help me?" - -"No, you must do it yourself. There is a way--see!" - -She took it from him and, concealing it in her hand, opened the top and -reached it out for him to smell. He whiffed a penetrating perfume, -disturbingly pungent, then she withdrew it from him and closed the -heart. - -"May I take it?" he asked. - -She returned it now, saying, and her smile was more serious than before, -"Learn to open it. There is a way." - -Granthope took the heart and tried to master its secret. The room had -by this time filled up so that a further tete-a-tete was impossible. -Miss Payson was now besieged by maskers and held court where she sat. -Fernigan, the stout young man with the powdered face, dressed as a -woman, was particularly offensive to Granthope, and especially so -because it could not be denied that his antics and sallies were witty. - -Granthope arose therefore, and walked about the room looking for some -one whom he might recognize. There was little likelihood of his -succeeding had not his professional capacity given him a clue to follow. -He passed from one group to another, bowing, gesticulating and joking, -as all had now begun to do, keeping his eyes alertly on the hands of -different members of the assembly. It was not long before he suspected -Mrs. Page, and, after reassuring himself by closer inspection, he went -up to her. - -She was as expensively dressed as Clytie, but without Clytie's taste. -Mrs. Page's magnificence was barbaric, untamed to any harmony of color, -though effective in its very violence. She had not left her diamonds at -home. She blazed in them. Tall, dark, well-formed and deep-breasted, -not even the loosely hanging folds of a Chinese costume could hide the -luxuriance with which Nature had endowed her figure. She was laughing -with abandon, reveling in the freedom of the moment, when Granthope -touched her on the shoulder and whispered: - -"Violet!" - -She turned to him and stared, puzzled by his well-disguised face. - -"Who are you?" - -"I know more about you than any one here!" - -"Good heavens!" she laughed, "what do you know about me?" - -"Shall I tell you?" - -"Not here, for mercy's sake! Don't give me away in respectable society, -please. Come out in the hall where we won't be eavesdropped." - -She took his arm energetically and romped him out to the staircase. The -masks and costumes had let loose all her folly. She effervesced in -giggles. - -"Let's go up-stairs in the library," she proposed. "We have the run of -the house to-night, and nobody'll be there. I want to see if I can't -guess who you are. I haven't the least idea who you are, but I believe -you're going to be nice." - -She tapped him on the cheek playfully with her fan, then picked up her -skirts and ran up-stairs, giving him a glance of red silk hose, as she -went. He was still quivering with the excitement of Clytie's smile, -still warm from her nearness, still full of her, though he would not -share her wholesale glances to her throng of admirers. He was still -rapt with the exhilaration her smile had kindled, he still held her -little perfumed heart. As he followed Mrs. Page up-stairs he smelt -again of the gold bottle. The fragrant odor fired him anew. He grew -perfervid. - -Mrs. Page, unmasked, was awaiting him in the library. - - -When they came down ten minutes later, he made way to where Clytie sat, -talking to the gentleman with the reddish pointed beard and plum-colored -garments. Seeing Granthope approach, she turned to her companion, -saying: - -"Would you mind getting me a glass of water, Blanchard? This mask is -fearfully warm. I hope we won't have to keep them on much longer." - -Cayley left to obey her and Granthope took his place by her chair. She -looked up at him quickly, and said, in a low voice: - -"I think you had better give me back my scent-bottle, please." - -A pang smote him. He felt the shock of reproach in her voice, knowing -what she meant immediately, though he rallied to say, faint-heartedly: - -"Why, I haven't learned how to open it yet." - -"I'm afraid you'll never learn." She did not look at him. - -"What do you mean?" he asked, summoning all his courage. "I thought you -had given it to me." - -She kept her eyes away from him. "If I did, I must ask it back, now." - -Perturbed as he was by this new proof of her intuition, he refused to -admit it. After all, it might have been merely her quick observation. -At any rate, he would make another attempt to pit his cleverness against -her sapience. - -"Oh, we only went up to see Mr. Maxwell's books. He has a first edition -of Montaigne there." He was for a moment sure that she was only -jealous. - -She bent her calm eyes upon him. There was no weakness in her mouth, -though it seemed more lovely in its tremulous distress. The upper lip -quivered uncontrolled; the lower one fell grieving, as she said: - -"I asked nothing. I want only honesty in what you do tell me." - -This time he was fairly amazed. The hit was deadly. He dared not -suspect that she had taken a chance shot. He was too humbled to attempt -any denial, knowing how useless it would be in the face of her -discernment. Yet she had showed nothing more than disapproval or -distress. Her reproof could scarcely be called an accusation, and her -chivalry touched him. - -"I don't know what you will think of me," he said. - -"Oh, I've heard so much worse of you than that," she said, "and it -hasn't prevented my wanting to be friends with you. I hope only that -you will never misinterpret that friendliness. You don't think me bold, -do you?" - -"I wish you were bolder." - -"Oh, you don't know my capacity yet. But, really, do you understand? -It's that feeling, you know, that in some way we're connected, that's -all. It's unexplainable, and I know it's silly of me. I'm not trying -to impress you." - -"But you are!" - -In answer, she smiled again, and again that flood of delight came over -him rendering him unable, for a moment, to do anything but gaze at her. -Luckily just then Cayley returned with a glass of water; at the same -time, the order was given by Mrs. Maxwell to unmask. - -Clytie drew off her visor immediately. As Granthope watched her he felt -the quality of his excitement change, transmuted to a higher psychic -level. Somehow, with her whole face revealed, with her serene eyes -shining on him, he was less in the grip of that craving which had held -him prisoner. It fled, leaving him more calm, but with a deepened, more -vital desire. The completed beauty of her face now thrilled him with a -demand for possession, but the single note of passion was richened to a -fuller chord of feeling. The mole on her cheek made her human, and -almost attainable. - -That feeling gave him a new and potent stimulus, as, under his hostess' -direction, he offered Clytie his arm into the supper-room, and took a -place beside her. It buoyed him with pride when he looked about at the -gaily clad guests and noticed, with a quickened eye, the distinction of -her face and air, comparing her with the others. That dreamy, detached -aspect in which he had seen her before had given way now to a fine glow -of excitement which stirred her blood. How far she responded to his -enthusiasm he could not tell; she was, at least, inspired with the -novelty of the scene--the gaudy dresses, the warm red lights of -monstrous paper lanterns, the odors of burning joss-sticks, the table, -flower-bedecked and set out with strangely decorated dishes, and the -monotonous, hypnotic squeak and clang and rattle of a Chinese orchestra -half-way up the stairs. - -All trace of her annoyance had gone from her now, and that unnamable, -untamed spirit, usually dormant in her, had retaken possession of her -body. She was more jubilantly alive than he had thought it possible for -her to be. He dared not attribute her animation to his presence, -however, gladly as he would have welcomed that compliment. It was the -spell of masquerade, no doubt, that had liberated an unusual mood, -emboldening her to show those nimble flashes of gallantry. At any rate, -that revelation of her under-soul was a piquant subject for his mind to -think on; there was an evidence of temperament there which tinctured her -fragile beauty with an intoxicating suggestion. It was a sign of -unexpected depths in her, a promise of entrancing surprises. - -For the first time in his life he lacked the audacity to woo a woman -boldly. There had never been enough at stake before to make him count -his chances. There had been everything to win, nothing to lose. Women -had solicited his favor, but there was something different in Clytie's -approaches toward familiarity. She spoke as with a right-royal and -secure from suspicion, with a directness which of itself made it -impossible for him to take advantage of her complaisance. He was put, -in spite of himself, upon his honor to prove himself worthy of her -confidence. There was, besides, a social handicap for him in her -assured position--he could see what a place she held by the treatment -she received from every one--while he was in his novitiate at such a -gathering, newly called there, his standing still questionable. But, -most of all, to make their powers unequal, was his increasing fear of -her as an antagonist with whom he could not cope intellectually. He, -with all his clever trickery and his practical knowledge of psychology, -was like a savage with bow and arrow; she, with her marvelous intuition, -like a goddess with a bolt mysteriously and dangerously effective. - -Already his instinct accepted this relation, but his brain was still -stubborn, seeking a refuge from the truth. He was to have, even as he -sat there with her, another manifestation. - -Clytie sat at his left hand. Mrs. Page, at his right, had been assigned -to the bald, red-faced gentleman with white mustache, who had so -profanely refused to make a fool of himself by wearing a Chinese -costume. His sprightly, flamboyant partner was ill-pleased with her -lot. She proceeded to spread an airy conversational net for Granthope, -endeavoring to trap him into her dialogue, with such patent art that -every woman at the table noticed her tactics. - -Granthope, however, shook her off with a smile and a joke, as if she -were an annoying, buzzing fly. Still she hummed about him, leaving her -partner to himself and his food. However clever and willing Granthope -might have been, ordinarily, at such an exchange of persiflage, it was -all he could do to parry her thrusts and at the same time keep up with -Clytie. But she, noticing Mrs. Page's game, was mischievous enough, or, -perhaps, annoyed enough, to give the woman her chance and submit to a -trial of strength. So, as if to give Granthope the choice between them, -she turned to her left-hand neighbor, Fernigan, who, in his female -costume, had kept that end of the table, by his wit, from interfering -with her colloquy. - -Granthope was in a quandary, fearing to be inextricably annexed. Mrs. -Page at this moment increased his dilemma by casting a languishing look -at him and pressing his foot with hers under the table. - -All that was flirtatiously adventurous in him boiled up; for Mrs. Page -was, in her own way, a beauty, and, as he had reason to know, amiable. - -He drew away his foot, however, and as he did so, gave a quick inward -glance at himself, wondering, and not a little amused, at the change -that had taken place in him. Novelty is, in such dalliance, a prime -factor of temptation--it was not a lack of novelty, however, which made -her touch unwelcome, for he was, in his relations with the woman, at -what would be usually a parlous stage. He had already been gently -reproved for his weakness--but it was not the smart of that disapproval -that withheld him. He had begun to fear Clytie's vision--yet he was not -quite ready to admit her infallible. His self-denial, then, was -indicative of an emotional growth. He smiled to himself, a little proud -of the accompaniment of its tiny sacrifice. - -Clytie, turning to him, rewarded him with a smile, and, leaning a -little, said under her breath: - -"I'm so glad that you find me more worth your while." - -He could but stare at her. Mrs. Page was quick enough to see, if not -hear, what had happened; she turned vivaciously to the gentleman in -evening dress. - -Granthope exclaimed, "You knew that?" - -"Ah, it is only with you that I can do it." She seemed to be more -confused at the incident than he. "I know so much more than I ever dare -speak of," she added. - -This did not weaken her spell. - -She continued: "Do you remember what you said, when you read my palm, -about my being willing to make an exaggerated confession of motives, -rather than seem to be hypocritical, or unable to see my own faults?" - -He did not remember, but he dared not say so. He waited a fraction of a -second too long before he said: - -"Certainly I remember." - -She looked hard at him and mentally he cowered under her clear gaze. -Then her brows drew slightly together with a puzzled expression, as if -she wondered why he should take the trouble to lie about so small a -matter. But this passed, and she did not arraign his sincerity. - -"Well, what I want you to know now is that I don't consider myself any -better--than she is. Do you know what I mean? I don't condemn her. -Oh, dear, I'm so inarticulate! I hope you understand!" - -"I think I do," he answered, but he could not help speculating as to the -definiteness of her perception. She answered his question unasked. - -"I get things only vaguely--that's one reason why I could not judge a -person upon the evidence of my intuition--I couldn't tell you, for -instance, exactly what happened between you two just now. I know only -that I was disturbed, and that you, somehow, reassured me." - -"But you were more precise about what happened up-stairs." He was still -at a loss to fix her limitations. - -"Oh, there I pieced it out a little. Shall I confess? I knew you well -enough to fill in the picture. I know something of her, too." - -"Witch!" - -"You're a wizard to make me confess!" she replied, brightly shining on -him. "I don't often speak. It's usually very disagreeable to know so -much of people--indeed, I often combat it and refuse to see. But with -you it's different." - -"It's not disagreeable?" - -"No, it is disagreeable usually. It makes me feel priggish to mention -it, too, but, with you, the impulse to speak is as strong as the -revelation itself; that's the strangest part of it." - -This confession gave him a new sense of power, for he saw that, -sensitive as was her intuition, he controlled and appropriated it. It -had already occurred to him what splendid use he might make of her, -compelling such assistance as she could render. Vistas of ambition had -opened to his fancy. For him, as a mere adventurer, her clairvoyance -might reinforce his scheming most successfully. With her he could play -his game as with a new queen on the chess-board. But he saw now how -absurd was the possibility of harnessing her to such projects. He was, -in fact, a little dazzled by the prospect she suggested. As he -corrected that mistake with a blush for his worldly innocence, he saw -what the game with her alone could be--his game transferred from the -plane of chicanery to the level of an intimate friendship--or even love. -He saw how she would play it, how she would hold his interest, keeping -him intellectually alive with the subtlety of her character. - -So far he had not taken her seriously; he had reveled in the possibility -of a love affair, but he had not even contemplated the possibility of a -permanent alliance. As Madam Spoll had said, he had had his pick of -women--and each had ended by boring him. Granthope, besides, with all -his delight in strategy, was modest, and desire for social establishment -had not entered into his plans. He had accepted Clytie as one of a -different world, desirable and even tempting, but not at all as one who -would change either his theory or his mode of life. But now, with a -sudden turn, his thoughts turned to marriage with her. Madam Spoll's -words leaped to his memory--she had said that it was possible. This -idea came as the final explosion of a long, tumescent agitation. He -looked at Clytie with new eyes. His ambition soared. - -The meal went on in a succession of bizarre courses--seaweed soup, -shark's fins, duck's eggs, fried goose and roasted sucking pig, boiled -bamboo sprouts to bird's nests and mysterious dishes--with rice gin and -citron wine. The company was rollicking now; even the gentleman in -black evening dress was laughing, and, goaded on by the irrepressible -Mrs. Page, had taken a large crown of gold paper, cut into rich patterns -and decorated with colored trimmings, from its place in the center of -the table and had set it upon his bald head. The walls of the -dining-room were covered with a row of paper costumes, elaborate robes -used by the Chinese tongs in their triennial festival of the dead. They -were of all colors, decorated with cut paper or painted in dragon -designs with rainbow borders and gold mons. Mrs. Page tore one from the -wainscot and wrapped it about her partner's shoulders. Fernigan -gibbered a fantastic allegiance before him; Keith, he of the white nose, -called for a speech. Over all this mirth the clashing cymbals, the -rattling tom-toms and squeaking two-stringed fiddles kept up an uncouth -accompaniment. Granthope, so far, had been a quiet observer, but when -at Clytie's request he removed his wig and false mustache, he was -recognized by Frankie Dean, who sat further up the table. - -"Oh, Mr. Granthope," she cried out. "Won't you please read my hand?" - -Every one turned to him. Clytie watched him to see what he would do. -Mrs. Maxwell, at the head of the table, obviously annoyed at this -indelicacy, sought to rescue him. - -"I promised Mr. Granthope that he wouldn't be asked," she interposed, -smiling with difficulty. - -"Office hours from ten till four," Fernigan announced. The guests -tittered. - -Granthope arose calmly and walked up to the young lady's side, taking -her hand. Then he turned to his sarcastic tormentor. - -"This is one of the rewards of my profession," he said, smiling -graciously. "I assure you I don't often get a chance to hold such a -beautiful hand as this." - -Clytie got a glance across to him, and in it he read her approval. He -bent to the girl's palm gravely: - -"I see by your clothes-line," he said, "that you have much taste and -dress well. Your fish-line shows that you have extraordinary luck in -catching anything you want. There are many victories along your line of -march. There is a pronounced line of beauty here; in fact, all your -lines are cast in pleasant places. You will have a very good hand at -whatever game you play, and whoever is fortunate enough to marry you -will surely take the palm." - -He retired gracefully, followed by laughter and applause, and was not -troubled by more requests. Clytie whispered to him: - -"I think you saved yourself with honor. It was a test, but I was sure -of you!" - -Mrs. Maxwell, immensely relieved, almost immediately gave the signal for -the ladies to leave. After the men had reseated themselves, heavy -Chinese pipes with small bowls were passed about. Most of the guests -tried a few puffs of the mild tobacco, and then reached for cigarettes -or cigars. As the doors to the drawing-room were shut they drew closer -together and began to talk more freely. - -Blanchard Cayley came over and sat down beside Granthope in Clytie's -empty chair. He, too, had taken off his wig. His smile was -ingratiating, his voice was suave, as he said: - -"I don't want to make you talk shop if you don't care to, Granthope, but -I'd like to know if you ever heard of reading the character by -thumb-prints. I don't know exactly what you'd call it--papilamancy, -perhaps." - -"I don't think it has ever been done, but I don't see why it shouldn't -be," said Granthope, amused. - -"What is necessary to make it a science?" - -Granthope, quicker with women than with men, was at a loss to see what -Cayley was driving at, but he suspected a trap, and foresaw that his -science was to be impugned. He countermined: - -"Oh, first of all, a classification and a terminology," he suggested. -Cayley was caught neatly. He was more ignorant than he knew. - -"Why don't you classify the markings then? I should think it might be -considered a logical development of chiromancy." - -"One reason is, because they have already been classified by Galton. -I've forgotten most of it, but I remember some of the primary divisions. -Have you a pencil?" - -Cayley unbuttoned and threw open his plum-colored, long-sleeved 'dun,' -disclosing evening dress underneath, and produced a pencil which he gave -to the palmist. Granthope smoothed out his paper napkin, and, as he -talked, drew illustrative diagrams upon it. - -"You see, the identification of thumb-prints is made by means of the -characteristic involution of the nucleus and its envelope. One needs -only a few square millimeters of area. There are three primary -nuclei--arches, whorls and loops. Each has variously formed cores. The -arch, for instance, may be tented or forked--so. The whorls may be -circular or spiral. The loops may be nascent, invaded or crested, and -may contain either a single or several rods, as they are called. Let me -see your thumb, please. You have a banded, duplex, spiral whorl. It -was there when you were born, it will be the same in form when you die. -Mine is an invaded loop with three rods." - -He saw by Cayley's face that he had scored. Such technical detail was, -in point of fact, Cayley's penchant, and he was interested. Granthope -proceeded: - -"Almost every distinguishing characteristic of the human body has been -used at one time or another for divination or interpretation, as I -suppose you know." - -Cayley saw an opening. "But what do you think the reading of moles, for -instance, amounts to, really?" - -"The reading of them, very little, of course. But the location of them, -a good deal." - -"Ah," said Cayley, "I thought so. Then you affirm an esoteric basis -with regard to such interpretations? You think that a mass of absolute -knowledge has been conserved, coming down from no one knows where, I -suppose?" - -"There are several ways of looking at it," Granthope answered him. He -threw himself back in his chair and gathered the company in with his -eyes. "One theory, as you know, is that palmistry derives its authority -from the fact that the lines are produced by the opening and closing of -the hand--originally, at least--the fundamental markings being -inherited, as are our fundamental mental characteristics--and that such -alteration of the tissue is directly affected by the character. One -stamps his own particular way of doing things upon his palm. Using the -right hand most, more is shown there that is individually -characteristic. Of course this theory will not apply to the -distribution of moles upon the body. But it seems to me that every part -of an organic growth must be consistent with the whole, and with what -governs it. Everything about a person must necessarily be -characteristic of the individual. There are really no such things as -accidents, if we except scars. We recognize that in studying -physiognomy, and, to a certain extent, in phrenology. It is suggested -less intelligibly in a person's gait, gesture and pose. Everything that -is distinctive must be significant, if only we have the power of -interpreting it. Of course we have not that power as yet. Palmistry, -being the most obvious and striking method, has been more fully -developed. A great amount of data has been collected upon the subject, -and every good palmist is continually adding to that material. But I -believe that, to a possible higher intelligence, any part of a man's -body would reveal his character--since every specialized partial -manifestation of himself must be correlated with every other part and -the whole. How else could it be? An infinite experience would draw a -man's mental and physical portrait, for instance, from a single toe, as -it is possible for a scientist to portray a whole extinct animal from a -single bone. I think that there can be, in short, no possible -divergence from type without a reason for it; and that reason is the -same one that molded his character." - -"But that doesn't explain prognostication of the future." By this time -the animus of Cayley's attack had died out. He was now impersonally -interested. - -"No scientific palmist attempts to give more than possibilities. He -must combine with the signs in the hands a certain amount of -psychology--a knowledge of the tendencies of human nature--in order to -predict. But, after all, his diagnosis, when it is logical, is as -accurate as that of the ordinary physician, and the risk is less -serious. How many doctors look wise and take serious chances--or -prescribe bread-pills? There's guess-work enough in all professions." - -By this time the two had been joined by several others who hung over -them in a group, listening. Fernigan interjected: - -"That's right! Even Blanchard has to guess what he's talking about most -of the time!" - -"And you have to guess whether you're sober or not!" said slim Keith -with the white nose. - -"When you talk about the probable tendencies of human nature, you don't -know what you're up against," said Cayley, retreating. "San Francisco -is a town where people are likely to do anything. There's no limit, no -predicting for them. They were buying air-ship stock on the street down -at Lotta's fountain, the last thing I heard." - -The old gentleman in evening dress, still wearing his Chinese paper -crown, took him up enthusiastically. - -"You can be more foolish here without getting into the insane asylum -than any place on earth, but you have to be a thoroughbred spiritualist -before you can really call yourself bug-house. Look at old man Bennett! -You couldn't make anything up he wouldn't believe!" - -"What about him?" said Cayley. "I would like to have him for my -collection of freaks. - -"Oh, he was a furniture manufacturer here. I knew him well, but I -forget the details. It was something fierce though, the way they worked -him." - -Granthope smiled. "I can tell you something about Bennett," he offered. -"I happened to hear the whole story nearly at first hand." - -"Let's have it," Cayley proposed. - -Granthope leaned back in his chair and began, rather pleased at having -an audience. - -"Why, he went to investigating spiritualism and fell into the hands of a -man named Harry Wing and a gang of mediums here. They won Bennett over -to a firm belief, step by step, till he was the dupe of every ghost that -appeared in the materializing circles, which cost him twenty-five -dollars an evening, by the way. One man that helped Wing out, played -spirit, pretended to be his dead son, and used to ask him for jewelry so -that he could dematerialize it, and then rematerialize it for -identification. If Bennett went down to Los Angeles he'd take the same -train and turn up at a circle there, proving he was the same spirit by -the rings that had been given him up here. Well, Bennett got so strong -for it that after a while they didn't bother with cabinets and dark -seances--the players used to walk right in the door. Then they'd tell -him that, as partly materialized spirits, they ought to have dinner to -increase their magnetism, and he'd send out for chicken and wine. -Finally they got him so they'd point out people on the street and assert -that they were spirits. The prettiest test was when they materialized -Cleopatra. I've never seen the Egyptian queen, but she certainly wasn't -a bit prettier than the girl who played her part. Bennett, as an -extraordinary test of her strength, was allowed to take her out to the -Cliff House in a hack. The curtains of the carriage had to be pulled -down to keep the daylight from burning her." - -"Oh, Cliff House, what crimes have been committed in thy name!" Fernigan -murmured. - -"Next, they made Bennett believe that his influence was so valuable in -accustoming spirits to earth-conditions, that they were going to reveal -a new bible to him, with all the errors and omissions corrected, and he -would go down to posterity as its author. In return, he was to help -civilize the planet Jupiter. You see, Jupiter being an exterior planet -was behind the earth in culture. Bennett contributed all sorts of -agricultural implements and furniture to be dematerialized and sent to -Jupiter, there to be rematerialized and used as patterns. Wing even got -him to contribute a five hundred dollar carriage for the same purpose. -It was sold by the gang for seventy-five dollars, and even when it was -shown to Bennett by his friends, who were trying to save him, he -wouldn't believe it was the same one. They milked him out of every cent -at last, and he died bankrupt." - -Granthope had scarcely finished his story when the drawing-room doors -were half opened and Mrs. Page appeared on the threshold pouting. - -"Aren't you ever coming in here?" she exclaimed petulantly. "You might -let us have Mr. Granthope, at least." - -The men rose and sauntered in, one by one. - -Granthope had but a moment in which to reflect upon what he had done, -but in that moment he regretted his indiscretion in telling the Bennett -story. He had not been able to resist the opportunity to make himself -interesting and agreeable; now he wondered what price he would have to -pay for it. The next moment his speculations vanished at the sight of -Clytie. - -He went directly to her and sat down. Although the party was dispersed -in little groups, the conversation had become more or less general, and -he had no chance to talk to her alone. He received her smile, however, -and she favored him with as much of her talk as was possible. - -As she sat there, with relaxed grace that was almost languor, she made -the other women in the room look either negligently lolling or awkwardly -conscious. He noticed how some of them showed the fabled western -influence of environment by the frank abandon of their pose, how others -held themselves rigidly, as if aware of their own lack, and sought, by -stern attention, to conceal it. Clytie's head was poised proudly, her -hands fell from her slender wrists like drooping flowers. Her whole body -was faultlessly composed, unified with harmonious lines, as if a -masterly portrait were gently roused into life. - -Fernigan now began, upon request, a Chinese parody, accompanied by -absurd pantomime. Granthope could not bear it, and, seeing Clytie still -busy with her admirers, slipped out of the room and went up to the -library. - -Mr. Maxwell's books were rare and carefully selected, a treat for such -an amateur as Granthope. He went from case to case fingering the -volumes, opening and glancing through one after another. The pursuit -kept him longer than he had intended. - -There was a smaller room off the library, used as a study and shut off -by a portiere. Granthope, standing near the entrance, suddenly heard -the sound of swishing skirts and footsteps, then the subdued, modulated -voices of two women. With no intention at first of eavesdropping, he -kept on with his perusal of the book in his hand. The first part of the -conversation he remembered rather than listened to, but it soon -attracted his alert attention. - -"I think it's a rather extraordinary thing, Mrs. Maxwell's asking him, -though, don't you?" one of the ladies said. - -The reply was in a gentle and more sympathetic voice: "Oh, she wanted an -attraction, I suppose, and he's really very good-looking, you know." - -"He's handsome enough, but he's too much like a matinee hero for me; my -dear, he's absolutely impossible, really! He's not the sort of person -one cares to meet more than once. He's beyond the pale. - -"It's rather cruel to invite him just to show him off, I think. In a -way, he had to accept." - -"Oh, I expect he's only too glad to come." - -"I wonder how he feels! Do you suppose he has any idea that he's out of -his element? It must be strange to be willing to accept an invitation -when you know you are, after all, only a sort of freak." - -"Don't worry. A charlatan has to have a pretty thick skin--no doubt -he'll make use of all of us, and brag about his acquaintance. That's -his business, you know; he has to advertise himself." - -"I know; but every man has his own sense of dignity, and it must be -somewhat mortifying--no self-respecting coal-heaver would accept such an -invitation--his pride would keep him from it. - -"I don't see how a man like that can have much pride. A coal-heaver -has, after all, a dignified way of earning his living. This man hasn't. -His trade can't permit him to be self-respecting. It's more undignified -than any honest labor would be. Why, he lives by trickery and flattery, -and now he's beginning to toady, too. Just look at the way he is after -Clytie Payson, already." - -"Yes, I can't see why she permits it, but she seems to be positively -fascinated by him. Isn't it strange how a fine girl like that is -usually the most easily deceived? Did you see the way she was looking -at him at supper? That told the story. Of course, you'd expect it of -Mrs. Page, but not of Cly." - -"Don't you believe it! Cly's no fool--she sees through him. He's -interesting, you can't deny that; and you know that a clever man can get -about anything he wants in this town. There are too few of them to go -round, and so they're all spoiled. But Cly's only playing him." - -"You don't think she's deliberately fooling him, do you?" - -"Nonsense! I know Cly as well as you do. She would always play fair -enough, of course, but that doesn't prevent her wanting to study a new -specimen, especially one as attractive as Granthope. But it won't last -long. Cly's too honest. It's likely that he'll go too far and take -advantage of her--then she'll call him down and dismiss him." - -"Do you think he imagines that he could really--" began the other. - -"Oh, _he's_ no fool either! He knows perfectly well where he belongs, -but he's working his chances while they last." - -Granthope had been deliberately listening and, as the last words came to -his ears, his emotion burst into flame. This, then, was how he was -regarded by the new circle into which he had been admitted. He was a -curiosity, handsome, but beyond the pale--even Clytie, it was probable, -was willing to amuse herself with him. The illumination it gave him as -to his status was vivid, its radiance scorched him. - -He had never caught this point of view before. He had been too -interested in his emergence from obscurity, he had even congratulated -himself upon his increasing success. Now he saw that the further he -went on that road the further away from Clytie he would be--he saw the -chasm that separated them. His undignified profession appeared to him -for the first time in its true aspect. The humiliation and -mortification of that revelation was sickening. He had not believed -that it was possible for him to suffer over anything so keenly. The -insults he had received, produced, after a poignant moment of despair, -an energetic reaction. His fighting instinct was awakened. He had -achieved a certain control of himself, he had a social poise and -assurance that kindled his mind at the prospect of an encounter. - -He drew aside the portiere and walked boldly into the little room. - -Two ladies were sitting there, picturesque in their costumes. Their -rainbow-hued garments showed a bizarre blotch of color in the quiet -monochrome of the place. Their faces were whitened with powder, their -eyebrows blackened to the willow-curve, their lips lined with red--they -looked, in the half-light, like fantastic, exotic Pierrettes. As they -caught sight of him they started up with surprise, almost with fear. -Granthope bowed with a quiet smile, perfectly master of himself. - -"I want to apologize for having overheard your conversation," he said. -"I must confess that I was eavesdropping. My business is, you know, to -read character for others, and I don't often have a chance to hear my -own so well described. I'm much obliged to you, I'm sure." - -He had the whip-hand now. There was nothing for them to say; they said -nothing, staring at him, their lips parted. - -He walked through to the door of the hall and there paused like an actor -making his exit from the stage. A cynical smile still floated on his -lips. He had never looked more handsome, with his black hair, his -clean-cut head, and his fine, deep eyes that looked them over calmly, -without haste. His costume became him and he wore it well. Now, as he -raised his hand, the long sleeve of his olive green coat fell a little -away from his fingers. Below, his lavender trousers gleamed softly. It -was a queer draping for his serious pose. It was a strangely figured -pair that he addressed as they sat, embarrassed, immovable in their -splendid silken garments. - -He added more gently, with no trace of sarcasm in his smooth voice: "I -would like to tell you, if it is any satisfaction for you to know, that -your operation has been successful. It was rather painful, without the -anesthetic of kindness, but I shall recover. I think I may even be -better for it, perhaps restored to health--who knows!" Then his smile -became enigmatic; he left them and went down the stairs. - -He made his way to Clytie with a new assurance; inexplicably to him, -some innate power, long in reserve, had risen to meet the emergency. He -was exhilarated, as with a victory. She looked up at him puzzled. - -"I wonder if you know what has happened this time?" he said. - -"Oh, if I only did! Something has--you have changed, somehow." - -"Is it an improvement?" - -"You know, it is my theory that you're going to--" She gave up her -explanation--her lips quivered. "Well, yes! You have been -embarrassed?" - -"I suppose it was good for my vanity." - -"Then you have heard something unpleasant." - -"The truth often is." - -"Was it true?" - -He laughed it off. "It was nothing I mightn't have known." - -"Then it is for you to make it false, isn't it?" - -"If I can." - -"I think there is nothing you couldn't do if you tried." - -"There is nothing I couldn't do if I had your help," he answered. - -For answer, she took the little gold heart-shaped bottle from its -mesh-work and handed it to him. - -"You must learn--but perhaps this may help you. Will you keep it?" - -He took it and thanked her with his eyes. Then, their dialogue being -interrupted, he moved off. He wandered about, speaking to one and -another for a few moments, gradually drifting toward the hall. - -As he stood just outside the reception-room he glanced up the broad -stairs carelessly, thinking of the two ladies to whom he had spoken. He -smiled to himself, wondering if they had yet come down. While he was -watching, he saw a woman at the top of the stairs, looking over the -rail. A second glance showed her to be a servant. She descended -slowly, and, in a moment, beckoned stealthily. He paid no attention. - -She came nearer, and, finally, seeing no one with him, called out to him -in a whisper. It was Lucie, Mrs. Maxwell's maid. The moment Granthope -recognized her, he walked into the parlors again, as if he had not -noticed her. - -Soon after that he paid his farewell amenities to his hostess and went -up to where he had left his hat and coat. Lucie was in the upper hall -waiting for him. - -"Mr. Granthope," she whispered, "may I speak to you a moment? I have -something." - -"Not now," he said, passing on. - -She plucked at his sleeve. "I've got a great story," she insisted. - -He shook his head. - -"Shall I come down to your office?" - -"Be quiet!" he said under his breath, and went in for his things. - -She was waiting for him when he emerged. - -"I'll come down as soon as I can get off," she continued. - -He shrugged his shoulders without looking at her, and went down-stairs, -and out. - - - - - *CHAPTER VII* - - *THE WEAVING OF THE WEB* - - -Madam Spoll was sitting in her study on Eddy Street, awaiting her -victim, when Francis Granthope, immaculate as usual, appeared in her -doorway, having been admitted by Spoll. She was in front of the glass, -pinning on a lace collar. - -"Hello, Frank," she said cordially, looking over her shoulder, "you're a -sight for sore eyes! We don't see much of you, nowadays." - -"I've been pretty busy, lately," he answered, sitting down and looking -about with an expression of ill-concealed distaste. The stuffy, crowded -room seemed more unpleasant than ever, after his evening at the -Maxwells'. Madam Spoll seemed more gross. Everything that had been -familiar to him had somehow changed. He seemed to have a different -angle of vision. It was close and warm, and the air smelled of dust. - -"You ain't a-going to forget your old friends, now you've got in with -the four hundred, are you, Frank?" she said earnestly. - -He pulled out a cigarette-case and lit a cigarette. As he struck the -match he answered: - -"Not if they don't meddle in my affairs." He gazed at her coolly as he -inhaled a puff of smoke and sent a ring across the room. - -Madam Spoll's face grew stern. "That's no way to talk, Frank. I've -been the same as a mother to you, in times past, ever since you went -into business, in fact. It looks like you was getting too good for us." - -"Why, what's the matter now?" - -"Oh, you're so stand-off, nowadays." - -He laughed uneasily. "You always said I was spoiled." - -"Well, who's spoiling you now? Miss Payson?" - -"What do you mean?" - -"You know, well enough! Lord, why don't you come out with it! It's all -in the family, ain't it? You've got her on the string, all right, ain't -you?" - -"I have not." The frown grew deeper in his forehead. - -"H'm!" She drew a long breath. "Well, that means we'll have to begin -at the beginning, then, I expect. I had a sort of an idea that you -_had_ got her going, and wouldn't mind saying so, but if you're going to -go to work and be mysterious, why, I'll have to talk straight business." -She pointed at him with her pudgy finger. "Now, see here, she's been -writing to you, anyways. You can't deny _that_." - -"What makes you think so?" - -"I don't think anything at all about it; I know. What d'you take me for? -A Portugee cook? It's my business to know all about the Paysons, that's -all. Very good." - -Granthope looked more concerned, and eyed her suspiciously. - -"There's only one way for you to have found that out," he said. "And -that reminds me. I want to get those notes I gave you about her when -you were up at my place. I didn't keep a copy, and I've forgotten some -of the details that I need." - -Madam Spoll raised her eyebrows, also her shoulders, and made an -inarticulate noise in her throat. "Funny you need them so bad all of a -sudden. Not that they done us much good--we've found out a lot for -ourselves; about all we need for the present." - -"Well, I haven't interfered with your game, and I don't see why you -should interfere with mine. Only, I'd like those memoranda back, -please." His tone was almost peremptory. - -"I'm sorry, but I ain't got 'em." - -"Where are they?" - -"Why, I give 'em to Vixley." - -Granthope saw that it was no use to go further. He had, in spite of his -precautions, already aroused her suspicions, and so he pretended to -consider the matter of no moment. Madam Spoll, however, was now -thoroughly aroused. - -"What I want to know, Frank, is whether you're with us or not." - -"I thought the understanding was that we were to work separately." - -"Separately _and_ together. Mutual exchange _and_ actual profit, for -each and for all. We got a mighty good thing in Payson, me and Vixley -have, and we propose to work it for all it's worth. It'll be for your -interest to come in and help us out. True, you have done something, but -now you're lallagagging, so to speak, when you might be making a big -haul. Payson's easy, and we can steer the girl your way, through him. -He'll believe anything. All we got to do is to say my guides want him -to have you for a son-in-law, and the trick is as good as turned. I -agree to get him started this afternoon. He's a ten-to-one shot. I can -see that with half an eye. It'll only be up to you to make good with -the girl, and Lord knows that'll be easy for you. Now is that straight -enough for you?" - -Granthope rose and began to pace the floor nervously. He paused to -straighten some magazines upon the table, he adjusted a photograph upon -the wall, he moved back a chair; then he turned to her and said: - -"I don't see how there's anything in this for me. I'm through with all -that sort of thing, and I think, on the whole, I'll stay out. I'm going -in for straight palmistry--and--well, another kind of game altogether. -You wouldn't understand it even if I explained. I've got a good start, -now, and I don't want to queer myself." - -Madam Spoll made a theatrical gesture of surprise. "Lord, Frank, who -would have thought of you doing the Sunday-school superintendent act on -me! A body would think you'd never faked in your life! My Lord, I'm -trying to lead you astray, am I?" - -"That's all right. I don't pretend to be very virtuous, but some of -this is getting a little raw for me." - -Madam Spoll opened her eyes and her mouth. "What's got into you, -anyway?" - -"Something's got out, perhaps," he said, frowning. "At any rate, I don't -care to make use of Miss Payson to help you rob her father." - -"Rob her father!" Outraged innocence throbbed in Madam Spoll's voice. -"Lord, Frank, you're plumb crazy! Why, he won't spend no money he don't -want to, will he? He can afford it well enough! He'll never miss what -we get out of him. You might think I was going to pick his pockets, the -way you talk." She took him by the arm. "See here! You ain't really -stuck on that Payson girl, are you? Why, if I didn't know you so well, -I'd be almost ready to suspect you of it! But land, you've had women -running after you ever since you went into business! But I notice you -don't often stay away from the office more'n two days running." - -"I don't know that my private affairs are any of your business," he said -curtly. He was rather glad, now, of the chance for an outright quarrel. - -But she would not let it come to that, and continued in a wheedling -tone: "Well, this happens to be my business, and I speak to you as a -friend, Frank, for your own good as well as mine. You can take it or -leave it, of course; I ain't a-going to try and put coercion on to you, -and there's time enough to decide when we get Payson wired up. Then -I'll talk to you just once more. You just think it over a while, and -don't do nothing rash." - -Granthope arose to leave. He was for a more romantic game, himself. -The vulgarity here offended him esthetically rather than ethically, and -yet he winced at the insinuations Madam Spoll had made. - -"I think I can go it alone," he said; "as for rashness, I won't -promise." - -He had gone but a few minutes when Professor Vixley entered and shook a -long lean claw with Madam Spoll, took off his coat and sat down. -"Well," he said affably, "how're they coming, Gert?" - -"Oh, so-so; Frank Granthope's just been here." - -"Is that so! Did you get anything out of him?" - -"No. And he wants his Payson notes back again. What d'you think of -that!" - -Vixley crossed his legs, and whistled a low, astonished note. "We're -goin' to have trouble with Frank, I expect." - -Madam Spoll's smooth forehead wrinkled. "Frank's a fool! He's leary of -us, and I believe he'll throw us down if we don't look out." - -"Most time to put the screws on, ain't it?" - -"I don't know; we'll see. We can go it alone for a while. Wait till we -really need him and I'll guarantee to make him mind. He's got the -society bug so bad I couldn't do anything with him." - -"The more he gets into society the more use he is to us," said Vixley. -"He's a pretty smooth article." - -"Do you know, I have an idea he's getting stuck on that Payson girl." - -Vixley cackled. - -"You never can tell," said Madam Spoll. "I believe Frank's got good -blood in him. Sooner or later it's bound to come out." - -"Well, if he's after the girl, it'll be easier for us to bring him -around. He won't care to be gave away." - -"That's right, and we'll use it. I can see that girl's face when she -hears about him crawling through the panel at Harry Wing's to play spook -for Bennett." - -"Not to speak of Fancy," Vixley added, grinning. - -To them, Ringa entered. He slunk into a chair beside Vixley, smoothed -down his tow hair, stroked his bristling mustache, and allowed his weak -gray eyes to drift about the room. - -"Well?" Madam Spoll queried, giving him a glance over her fat shoulder. - -"I found him all right, and I've got something. I guess it's worth a -dollar, Madam Spoll." - -"Let's hear it, first," said Vixley. - -"I done the insurance agent act, and I jollied him good." Ringa -grinned, showing a hole in his mouth where two front teeth should have -been. - -"You jollied him," Vixley showed his yellow teeth. "Lord, you don't look -it!" - -"I did though," the pale youth protested. "I conned him for near an -hour." - -"You're sure he didn't get on to you?" Madam Spoll asked, regarding her -head sidewise in the glass and patting the blue bow on her throat. - -"Sure! I was a dead ringer for the real-thing agent, and I had the -books to show for it. I worked him for an insurance policy." - -"Well? What did he say?" Madam Spoll turned on him like a mighty gun. - -"He was caught between two trains once on the Oakland Mole, and I guess -he was squeezed pretty bad. He said it was a close call." - -"That's all right," said Vixley; "we can trim that up in good shape, -can't we, Gert?" - -"It'll do for a starter. Give him a dollar." - -"Anything more to-day?" Ringa asked, rising slowly. - -"No; I'll let you know if I want you," said the Madam. - -Ringa slouched out. - -"I'd let that cool off a while till he's forgotten it," Vixley -suggested. - -"I'll make him forget it, all right," Madam Spoll returned. "That's my -business. You do your part as well as I do mine and you'll be all -right." - -"It's only this first part that makes me nervous." - -"Oh, he ain't going to catch _me_ in a trap. I got sense enough to put -a mouse in first to try it." - -She stood in front of the mirror in the folding-bed, arranging her hair, -which had been wet and still glistened with moisture, holding her comb, -meanwhile, in her mouth. Professor Vixley tilted back in his plush -chair, his head resting against the grease-spot on the wall-paper which -indicated his habitual pose. - -"Now don't you go too fast," he said, pulling out a square of -chewing-tobacco and biting off a corner. "This here is a-goin' to be a -delicate operation. Payson ain't so easy as Bennett was. Bennett would -believe that cows was cucumbers, if we told him so, but this chap is too -much on the skeptic. We got to go slow." - -"You leave me alone for _that_," Madam Spoll replied easily. "I guess I -know how to jolly a good thing along. Has he got the money? That's all -I want to know about him." - -"He's got money all right. That's a cinch. I'm not in this thing for -my health. What's more, he's got the writin' bug, and I can see a good -graft in that." - -"Well, I'll give it a try." - -"No, you better keep your hands off that subject, Gertie. I can work -that game better'n you. I got it all framed up how I can string him -good. I'm goin' to make that a truly elegant work of art. All you got -to do is to get him goin', and then steer him up against me." - -The door-bell rang noisily up-stairs and Mr. Spoll's footsteps were -heard going to answer the summons. - -"I guess that's my cue," said Madam Spoll, smiling affably. "I wish I -had more magnetism to-day." She shook her hands and snapped her -fingers. "I can't stand so much of this as I used to. I can remember -when I could get a name every time without fishing for it. But what -I've lost in one way I have learned in another. I'm going to give him a -run for his money, and don't you forget it." - -Vixley smiled and rubbed his hands. "Go in and win, Gert. I guess I'll -take a nap here on the lounge while I'm waitin' for you, and see if the -Doc doesn't come in." - -"All right," she replied; then marched up-stairs and went into action. - -The upper parlor, where she received her patrons for private sittings, -was a large room separated from the back part of the house by black -walnut double doors. Upon the high-studded walls were draperies of -striped oriental stuffs, caught up with tacks and enlivened by colored -casts of turbaned Turks' heads, most of which were chipped on cheek and -on chin, showing irregular patches of white plaster. Upon the mantel -chaos reigned, embodied in a mass of minor decorations of all sorts, -such as are affected by those who deem that space is only something to -be as closely filled as possible. The furniture was cheaply elaborate -and formally arranged, running chiefly to purple stamped plush and heavy -woolen fringe. The silk curtains in the windows were severely arranged -in multitudinous little pleats, fan shaped, drawn in with a pink ribbon -at the center. There was scarcely a thing in the room, from the -fret-sawed walnut whatnot in the corner to the painted tapestry Romeo -upon the double doors, that an artist would not writhe at and turn -backward. A little ineffective bamboo table in the center was made a -feature of the place, but supported its function with triviality. - -Mr. Payson had just entered, cold and blue from the harsh air outside. -He bowed to the seeress. - -She began with the weather, referring to it in obvious commonplaces, -eliciting his condemnation of the temperature. She offered to light the -gas-log and succeeded, during the conversational skirmish, in drawing -from him the fact that he suffered from rheumatism, especially when the -wind was north. - -Madam Spoll allowed the ghost of a smile to haunt her face for a brief -moment. "Lucky you ain't got my weight, it gets to you something -terrible when you're fat. I ain't quite so slim as I used to be." She -looked up from the grate coquettishly, marking the effect of her words. - -"Now let's set down and get ready," she said, going over to the frail -table and pressing her hands to her forehead. "I ain't in proper -condition to-day; I've been working hard and my magnetism's about wore -out. But I'll see what I can do." - -He took a seat opposite her and waited. His attitude was benignly -judicial; his eyes were fixed upon her, through his gold-bowed -spectacles. - -"Funny thing how different people are," she began. "Now, I get your -condition right off. You ain't at all like the rest of the folks that -come here. I get a condition of study, like. I see what you might call -books around you everywhere--not account-books, but more on the -literary. Books and sheep, you understand. Not live ones! I would say -they was more on the dead sheep. Flat ones, too, with hair, -like--queer, ain't it? Sounds like nonsense I suppose, but that's just -what I get. They must be some mistake somehow." She drew her hand -across her forehead and snapped the electricity off her finger-tips. -Then she rubbed her hands and twisted her mouth. "Do you know what I -mean?" - -"Why, it might be wool perhaps; I have something to do with wool," he -offered. - -"Now ain't that strange? It _is_ wool, as sure's you're born! I can -see what you might call skins and bales of wool. And I get a condition -of business, too--but not what you might call a retail business. Seems -like it was more on the wholesale." - -"Yes, that's right," he assented, nodding. - -"What did I tell you!" she exclaimed. "I do believe I may get something -after all, though very often the first time ain't what you might call a -success, and sitters are liable to get discouraged. I can tell you only -just what my guides give me, you know, and sometimes Luella is -pernickerty. She's my chief control. You know how it is yourself, for -you'll be a man that knows women right down to the ground, and you've -always been a favorite with the ladies, too." - -"Oh, I never knew many women," he said modestly. - -"It ain't the number I'm speaking of. It's the hold you had over 'em, -specially when you was a young man. They was women who would do -anything you asked them and be glad of the chance; now, wasn't they? -Did you ever know of a party, what you might call a young woman, though -not so very young, with the initial C?" She mumbled the letter so that -it was not quite distinguishable. - -"G?" he said. "Why, yes!--was that the first name or the last?" - -"It seems like it was the first name, the way I get it--would it be -Grace?" - -This was, of course, a random "fishing test," and she got a bite. - -"My wife's name was Grace." - -She hooked the fact, noticing the tense, and let her line play out to -distract his attention temporarily. - -"It don't seem quite like your wife. Seems like it was another woman -who you was fond of. Maybe it was meant for the last name. Sometimes -my control does get things awfully mixed. Or, it might be a middle -initial. You wait a minute and maybe I'll get it stronger." - -"Oh, if it was the last name, I think I recognize it." - -She had another line out and another bite, now, and played to land both, -coaxing the truth gently from him. - -"Yes, it's a last name, and she was terrible fond of you. She was in -love with you for some time, you understand? And there was some trouble -between you." - -"There was, indeed!" Mr. Payson shook his head solemnly. - -The hint now made sure of, she heightened it to make him forget that he -himself had given the clue. - -"I get a feeling of worry, and what you might call a misunderstanding. -You didn't quite get along with each other and it made a good deal of -trouble for you. You was what I might call put out, you understand? -She's in the spirit now, ain't she?" - -"Yes; she died a good many years ago." - -Madam Spoll returned to her first fish and began to reel in. "Your -wife's passed out, too, and Luella tells me she's here now. She says -Grace was worried, too. But she's happy now and wants you to be. You -was a young man then, and yet you have never got over it. You wasn't -rightly understood, was you?" - -Mr. Payson shook his head again. He was listening attentively. - -"But it wan't your fault, do you understand? It was something that -couldn't be helped. And sometimes when you think of this other lady you -say to yourself, 'If she only knew! If she only knew!'" - -"Yes, I wish she did. It really wasn't my fault." - -Madam Spoll cast more bait into the pool. - -"Now, would her given name be Mary, or something like that?" - -"No--it was an uncommon name." - -The medium persisted stubbornly. - -"That's queer. I get the name of Mary very plain." - -"My mother's name was Mary; perhaps you mean her?" - -"It might be your mother, and yet it seems like it was a younger woman. -Now, this lady I spoke of had dark hair, didn't she? or you might call -it medium--sort of half-way between light and dark." - -"No; she had white hair." - -Another fish was on the hook. Madam Spoll had got what she wanted. -This admission of Mr. Payson's, coupled with the fact Granthope had -discovered, that Clytie had visited the crazy woman, identified the old -man's first love, she thought, effectually. She kept this for -subsequent use, however. It would not do, as Vixley had said, to go too -fast. - -"Then this Mary must be some one else," she said. "You may not recognize -her now, but you probably will. I can't do your thinking for you, you -know. It may possibly be that you'll meet her some day; at any rate, my -guides tell me you must be careful and don't sign no papers for Mary. I -don't know whether she's in the spirit or not. You may understand it -and you may not. All I can do is to give you what I get." - -Madam Spoll now became absorbed in a sort of reverie. When at last she -emerged it was with this: - -"I see your mother and your wife now, and I get the words, 'It's a pity -Oliver couldn't marry her.' I don't know what they mean at all." - -"I understand. I was intending to marry another woman, the one you -spoke of just now, but something prevented." - -"That must be it. My guide tells me that something dreadful happened, -and it was what you might call hushed up and you separated from her." - -"It was not my fault." - -"I get a little child, too"--Mr. Payson grew still more absorbed. The -medium noticed his instant reaction in eyes, mouth and hands. On the -strength of that evidence, she took the risk of saying: - -"The child was the lady's with the white hair." - -"What about it?" demanded Mr. Payson. - -"I see the child standing by a lady who grew gray very young, you -understand. And now they're both gone. Was you ever interested in -Sacramento or somewhere east of here?" - -"Stockton?" he asked. "I lived there for a while." - -"That's it. I see a river, and steamboats coming in, and there's the -child again." - -"A boy or a girl?" - -She hesitated for a moment to dart a glance at him as swift as an arrow. -Then she risked it. "A girl." - -He drew a long breath. "I don't quite understand." - -"It certainly is a little girl, and she's with the lady with the gray -hair. But wait a minute. Now I get a little boy, and he's crying." - -"Where is he?" came eagerly from Payson's lips. - -"He's on this side. He's alive. I'll ask my guide." She plunged into -another stupor, then shook herself, rubbed her forehead, wrung her -hands. - -"I can't get it quite strong enough to-day, but I'll find out later. He -seems to be mixed up with you, some way, not in what you might call -business, but more personally. You're worried about him." - -Mr. Payson, with a shrug of his shoulders, appeared to disclaim this. - -"Yes, you are! You may not realize it, but you are. The time will come -when you understand what I mean. Now you're too much interested in -other things. Your mind is way off--toward New York, like, or in that -direction." - -He looked puzzled. - -"Maybe it ain't as far as New York, but it's somewhere around there, and -I see books and printing presses. Do you have anything to do with -printing?" - -This he also disclaimed. - -"Funny!" she persisted. "I get you by a printing-press looking at a -book and then I see you at a table writing." - -"I have done some writing, but it has never been printed." - -"Well, it will be! My guide tells me that you have a great talent for -literary writing, and it could be developed to a great success. - -"Now," she added, "you let me hold your hands a while till I get the -magnetism stronger. Just hold them firm--that's right. Lord, you -needn't squeeze them _quite_ so hard!" She beamed upon him with obvious -coquetry. "Now I'm going into a trance. I don't know whether Luella -will come, or maybe little Eva. Eva's the cunningest little tot and as -bright as a dollar. She's awful cute. You mustn't mind anything she -says or does, though. Sometimes, I admit, she mortifies me, when -sitters tell me what she's been up to. I've known her to sit on men's -laps and kiss 'em and hug 'em, like she was their own daughter, but -Lord, she don't know any better. She's innocent as a baby." - -His face grew harder as she said this, but she proceeded, nevertheless, -with her experiment, closing her eyes and sitting for a while in -silence. Then her muscles twitched violently; she squirmed and wriggled -her shoulders. Finally she spoke, in a high, squeaky falsetto, a fair -ventriloquistic imitation of a child's voice. - -"Good afternoon, Mr. Payson, I'm little Eva! I brought you some -flowers, but you can't see 'em, 'cause they're spirit flowers. You -don't look very well. Ain't you feelin' well to-day? I'm always well -here, and it's lovely on this side." - -He made no response. Madam Spoll's soft hand, obviously controlled by -her spirit guide, moved up Mr. Payson's arm and patted his cheek. He -drew back suddenly. - -"My!" little Eva exclaimed. "You frightened me! What a funny man you -are! Won't you just let me smoove your hair, once? I'd love to. Oh, I -think you're horrid! I'm just doin' to slap your face--there!" Which -she did quite briskly. - -Mr. Payson loosened his hold with some annoyance. - -"Well, I ain't doin' to stay if you don't love me," the shrill voice -went on. "I don't _like_ men who don't love me. Good-by, old man, I'm -doin'." - -There was another wriggle on the part of the medium, after which a -lower-toned voice said: - -"How do you do! I'm Luella." - -He watched the medium's blank, expressionless face as she spoke. - -"Say, you ain't well, I can see that. Haven't you got a pain in your -leg? Excuse me saying it, but I can feel it right there." - -She touched him gently on the thigh. - -"Oh, that's only a touch of rheumatism," he replied. - -"No, it ain't," she said, "it's more serious than that. It's chronic, -and it's growing worse. Sometimes it's so painful that you almost die -of it, isn't it? I know where you got it; it come of an accident. I -can see you in a big crowded house, like, and there's railroad trains -coming and going, and you're crowded and jammed. You got internal -injuries and a complication. You didn't realize it at the time, but it's -growing worse every day. If you don't look out you'll pass out through -it, but if you went right to work, you could be cured of it, before it -gets too bad." - -"What could I do about it?" he asked. "The doctors don't help me much." - -"Of course they don't. You haven't been to the right ones. I was an -Indian doctor, and I can see just what's the matter with you. You need -a certain kind of herb I used to use when I was on the flesh-plane in -Idaho." - -"Can't you help me, then?" - -"Oh, I've got to go now, they're calling to me. So good-by." Another -wriggle and Madam Spoll was herself again. - -"Well, what did you get?" she asked when she recovered. - -"Why, don't you know?" - -"No more'n a babe unborn," she said. "I was in a dead trance, and I -never remember anything that happens. I hope little Eva didn't tease -you any." - -"Who is the other one--Luella?" - -"Why, she's an Indian princess that passed out about ten years back. -She's got a great gift of diagnosing cases. She's helped my sitters a -good deal." - -"She told me something about my trouble." - -"You mean about the gray-haired lady or the child?" - -"Oh, no, about my leg!" - -"Did she, now? Well, what did I tell you! Seems to me you _do_ look -peaked and pale, like you was enjoying poor health. I noticed it when -you first come in. I don't believe your blood's good. Luella don't -prescribe ordinarily, but she can diagnose cases something wonderful. -If I should tell you how many doctors in this town send their patients -to me to be diagnosed before they dare to treat them themselves, you'd -be surprised. Why, only the other day a lady come in here that was give -up by four doctors for cancer, and Luella found it was only a boil in -her kidney. She went to a magnetic healer and was cured in a week. Now -she's doing her own work and taking care of her babies, keeping boarders -and plans to go camping this very month." - -"Who was the doctor?" Mr. Payson asked, much impressed. - -"Doctor Masterson. He's up on Market Street somewhere. Perhaps I've -got a card of his around. I'll see if I can find it." - -She walked over to the mantel and fussed among its dusty ornaments, -saying, with apparent concern, as she rummaged: - -"I don't know as I ought to send you to Doctor Masterson, after all. -You see, he ain't a man I like very much, and few do, I find. He don't -stand very well with the Spiritual Society, nor with anybody else that I -know of. He ain't quite on the square, do you understand what I mean? -To be perfectly frank, I think he's a rascal. He has a bad reputation -as a man, but all the same, he's a good medium, nobody denies _that_, -and he does accomplish some marvelous cures! If Luella said your -complaint was serious, she knows, and it looks to me like you must go to -Doctor Masterson or die of it, for if he can't cure you, nobody can. -He's certainly a marvelous healer." - -She found the card at last, and brought it over to Mr. Payson. - -"Here it is, but you better not tell him I give it to you, for we ain't -on very good terms, and I wouldn't want him to know that I was sending -him business." - -As Mr. Payson rose to go, the medium stopped him with a gesture. - -"Wait a minute," she said, passing her hand across her forehead. "Grace -is here again and she says: Tell him that we're doing all we can on the -spirit plane to help him and we want him to cheer up, for conditions are -going to be more favorable in a little while, say, by the end of -September.'" - -She paused a moment and then added: - -"Who's Clytie? Would that be the gray-haired lady?" - -"What about Clytie?" He was instantly aroused. - -"It don't seem to me like she's in the spirit, exactly. She's on the -material plane. Let's see if I can get it more definite. Oh, Grace -says she's your daughter." - -"That's true." - -"What do you think of that? I get it very plain now. Grace says she's -watching over Clytie and will help her all she can." - -"Can't she tell me anything more?" - -The medium became normal. "No, I guess that's about all I can do for -you to-day. I think you got some good tests, specially when you -consider it was the first time. When you come again I expect we can do -better, and I'm sure we can find that little boy you was interested in." - -Mr. Payson rose and stood before her, sedate, dignified, and said, in -his impressive platform-manner: - -"I don't mind saying that I consider this very remarkable, Madam Spoll, -very remarkable. I shall certainly call again sometime next week. I am -much interested. Now, what is the charge, please?" - -"Oh, we'll only call this three dollars. My price is generally five, -but I'm sort of interested in your case and I want you to be perfectly -satisfied. You can just ring me up any time and make an appointment -with me." - -She bowed him out with a calm, pleasant smile. - -Down-stairs, Professor Vixley was awaiting her. With him was a -shrewd-eyed, bald-headed, old man, with iron spectacles, his forehead -wrinkled in horizontal lines, as if it had been scratched with a sharp -comb. He had a three days' growth of red beard on his chin and cheeks, -and his teeth, showing in a rift between narrow, bloodless lips, were -almost black. He wore a greasy, plaid waistcoat, a celluloid collar -much in need of the laundry and a ready-made butterfly bow. - -"Why, how d'you do, Doctor Masterson?" said Madam Spoll. "I was hoping -you would get around to-day, so's we could talk business. I suppose you -put him wise about Payson, Vixley?" - -"Certainly," said the Professor. "We're goin' to share and share alike, -and work him together as long as it lasts. How did you get on with him -to-day?" - -"Oh, elegant," was the answer, as she took a seat on the couch and put -up her feet. "I don't believe we're going to be able to use Flora, -though." - -Professor Vixley's black eyes glistened and he grinned sensuously. -"Why, couldn't you get a rise out of him?" - -Madam Spoll shook her huge head decidedly. "No, that sort of game won't -work on him. He ain't that kind. I went as far as I dared and give him -a good chance, but he wouldn't stand for it." - -"That's all right, Gert," said Vixley, "I ain't sayin' but what you're a -fine figure of a woman, but he's sixty and he might prefer somebody -younger. You know how they go. Now, Flora, she's a peach. She'd catch -any man, sure! She knows the ropes, too, and she can deliver the goods -all right. Look at the way she worked Bennett. Why, he was dead stuck -on her the first time he seen her. She put it all over Fancy at the -first rattle out of the box." - -Again Madam Spoll's crisp, iron-gray curls shook a denial. "See here, -Vixley!" she exclaimed, "I ain't been in this business for eighteen -years without getting to know something about men. Bennett was a very -different breed of dog. I can see a hole in a ladder, and I know what -I'm talking about. Payson ain't up to any sort of fly game. He's -straight, and he's after something different, you take my word for that. -If there was anything in playing him that way, I'd be the first one to -steer him on to Flora Flint, but he'd smell a mice if she got gay with -him and he'd be so leary that we couldn't do nothing more with him." - -"Well, what _did_ you get, then?" Vixley asked. - -"Did you wire it up for me?" Doctor Masterson added. - -"Oh, I fixed you all right, Doc. He'll show up at your place, sure -enough. That accident tip worked all right and I got him going pretty -good about his leg. He's got your card and I give you a recommendation, -I don't think! You want to look out about what you say about me. We -ain't on speaking terms, you understand, and you're a fakir, for fair. -You can get back at me all you want, only don't draw it hard enough to -scare him away." - -Doctor Masterson grinned, showing his line of black fangs, and stuck his -thumbs into his waistcoat pockets placidly. "Oh, I'm used to being -knocked, don't mind me. I'll charge him for it. If I'm going to be the -villain of this here drama, I'll do it up brown." - -"Let's see now. I s'pose you can probably hold him about two months, -can't you?" said Vixley, stroking his pointed black beard and spitting -into the fireplace. - -"Oh, not so long as that," said Madam Spoll. "We want to get to work on -that book proposition. A month's plenty long enough. They ain't much -money in it." - -"I don't know." Doctor Masterson shook his head. "I've strung 'em for -six months many's the time." - -"Women, perhaps, but not men," said the Madam. - -"Well, maybe. Men are liable to be in more of a hurry, of course." - -"And women ain't so much, with you, are they?" - -The two men laughed cynically. - -"Oh, they's more ways to work women than men, that's all," the doctor -replied. "They're more interested in their symptoms, and they like to -talk about 'em. Then, again, they's a more variety of complaints to -choose from. I don't say I ain't had some pretty cases in my day." - -"Say!" Madam Spoll interposed. "Who's having a circle -to-night--Mayhew?" - -"Let's see--it's Friday, ain't it? Yes, Mayhew and Sadie Crum," Vixley -replied. - -"Well, I s'pose we got to put 'em wise about Payson," said the Madam. -"He's got the bug now and he's pretty sure to make the rounds." - -"Can't we keep him dark?" said Vixley. "He's our game and they might -possibly ring him in." - -"No, that won't do," she answered emphatically. "We got to play fair. -They've always been square with us, and they won't catch him, I'll see -to that. Mayhew's straight enough and if Sadie tries to get gay with us, -we can fix her and she knows it. And the more easy tests he gets, the -better for us. It'll keep him going, and so long as they don't go too -far, it'll help us. The sooner he gets so he don't want to impose test -conditions, the better, and they can help convert him for us. I'll ring -up Mayhew now. I've got a good hunch that Payson will show up there -to-night." - -She raised her bulk from the couch and went to the telephone by the -window, calling for Mayhew's number. When she had got it, she said: - -"Is this number thirty-one? ... Yes, I'm number fifteen.... Sure! Oh, -pretty good! ... I got a tip for you. I'm playing a six-year-old for -the handicap, named Oliver. Carries sixty pounds, colors blue and gray, -ten hands, jockey is Payson. He's a ten-to-one shot. My wife Grace -lived in Stockton. Do what you can for me, but keep your hands off, do -you understand? Numbers forty and thirteen are with me in this deal and -we'll fix it for you if you stand in ... yes, all right! If he shows up -let me know to-morrow morning, sure." - -She turned to the two men. "I guess that's all right now." - -"What's all that about Stockton?" Vixley asked. - -"He lived there once and there's something more about his wife or -something. Mayhew may fish it out of him, and if he does I'll put you -on." - -"I ain't seen him yet," said the doctor, "but I guess I'll recognize -him. Sixty years old, Oliver Payson, one hundred and sixty pounds, blue -eyes and gray hair, six feet tall. Are you sure he's a ten-to-one, -though? That cuts more ice than anything." - -"Oh, sure!" said Madam Spoll. "Why, he swallowed the whole dose. He -ain't doing no skeptic business. He thinks he's an investigator. Wait -till you hear him talk and you'll understand. Not religious, you know, -but a good old sort. He's caught all right, and if we jolly him along, -we can polish him off good." - -"They ought to be some good materializin' graft in that wife -proposition. Grace, was it? We might turn him over to Flora for that." -This from Vixley. - -"I've been thinking of that," said Madam Spoll, "but I don't know -whether he'll stand for it or not. It won't be anywheres near the snap -it was with Bennett, in full daylight, and we'll have to have special -players. I believe I can put my hands on one or two that can help us -out, though. Miss French for one; she's got four good voices. Then -there's a young girl I got my eye on that'll do anything I say. She's -slim and she can work an eight-inch panel as slick as soap; and she's -got a memory for names and faces that beats the directory. Besides, I -believe she's really psychic. I've seen her do some wonderful things at -mind-reading." - -"No, can she really!" said Vixley. - -"Oh, I used to be clairaudient myself when I begun," said Madam Spoll a -little sadly. "I could catch a name right out of the air, half the -time. I've gave some wonderful tests in my day, but you can't never -depend upon it, and when you work all the week, sick or well, drunk or -sober, you have to put water in the milk and then it's bound to go from -you. You have to string 'em sooner or later. This girl's a dandy at -it, though, but that'll all wait. There's enough to do before we get to -that part of the game. I expect I had better go out and see Sadie Crum -myself. I don't trust her telephone. She's got a ten-party line, what -do you think of that?" - -"A ten-party line don't do for business," said Vixley, "but it's pretty -good for rubberin'. I've got some pretty good dope off my sister's -wire. She spends pretty near all her time on it and it does come in -handy." - -"Oh, pshaw!" Madam Spoll looked disgusted. "I ain't got time to spend -that way. What's the use anyway? They ain't but one rule necessary to -know in this business, and that is: All men is conceited, and all women -is vain." - -"That's right!" Vixley assented. "Only I got another that works just as -good; all women want to think they are misunderstood, and all men want -to think they understand. Ain't that right, Doc?" - -Masterson grinned. "I guess likely you ought to know, if anybody does. -But I got a little one of my own framed up, too. How's this? All men -want to be heroes and all women want to be martyrs." - -The three laughed cynically together. They had learned their practical -psychology in a thorough school. Madam Spoll chuckled for some time -pleasantly. - -"You're the one had ought to write a book, Masterson. I'll bet it would -beat out Payson's!" - -"Lord!" said Vixley. "If I was to write down the things that have -happened to me, just as they occurred--" - -"It wouldn't be fit to print," Madam Spoll added. Vixley looked -flattered. - -"How about that pickle-girl?" he asked next. - -"What's that?" said Doctor Masterson. - -"Oh, a new graft of Gertie's. Did she come, Gert?" - -"I should say she did," Madam Spoll replied. "And I got her on the -string staking out dopes, too. Why, she's mixed up with a fellow at the -Risdon Iron Works, and she don't dare to say her soul's her own since -she told me." - -"Nothin' like a good scandal to hold on to people by," Masterson -remarked. "Where'd you get her?" - -"Oh, she floated in. I give her a reading and found out she worked in a -pickle factory down on Sixth Street where there are fifty or more girls. -Soon as I found out the handle to work her by, I made her a proposition -to tip off what's doing in her shop. She makes her little report, -steers the girls up here, and then she comes round and tells me who they -are and all about 'em." - -"That's what I call a good wholesale business," said Vixley enviously. -"I wish I could work it as slick as that. She uses the peek-hole in the -screen, I suppose?" - -"Sometimes, and sometimes she sits behind the window curtain up-stairs." - -"You have to give yourself away, that's the only trouble," said Doctor -Masterson. - -"Oh, no," Madam Spoll remarked easily, "I just tell her that I can't -always get everybody's magnetism, though of course I can always get -hers. That gives her an idea she's important, don't you see? Then I -can always lay anything suspicious to the Diakkas. Evil spirits are a -great comfort." - -"And anyways, if she should want to tell anything," Vixley suggested, -"you can everlastingly blacklist her at the factory with what you know." - -"Yes," Madam Spoll assented; "she's got a record herself, only she -hasn't got sense enough to realize on it the way I do on mine. Is they -any bigger fool than a girl that's in love?" - -"Only a man that is," Vixley offered sagely. - -"Oh, _men_!" she exclaimed contemptuously. "I believe they ain't more'n -but three real ones alive to-day!" - -The Professor's eyes snapped. "Well, they's women enough, thank the -Lord!" - -"Well," said Doctor Masterson, "I got to go to work; I'm keeping office -hours in the evening now and I have to hump. So long, Gertie, I'll be -all ready for Payson, but you and Vixley have got to keep jollying him -along. You want me to hold him about a month? I'll see what I can do, -and if I get a lead, I'll let you know." He shook hands and left them. - -"I ain't so sure of the Doc as I'd like to be," said Madam Spoll after -he had gone. - -"Nor me neither," Vixley replied. "We've got to watch him, I expect, -but he'll do for a starter and we can fix him if he gets funny. There -ain't nothin' like cooeperation, Gertie." - -As Madam Spoll sat down again to open a bottle of beer she had taken -from beneath the wash-stand, Professor Vixley began to twirl his fingers -in his lap and snicker to himself. - -"What are you laughing at, Vixley?" she asked, pouring out two frothing -glasses. - -"I was just a-thinkin' about Pierpont Thayer. Don't you remember that -dope who went nuts on spiritualism and committed suicide?" - -"No, I don't just recall it; what about it?" - -"Why, he got all wound up in the circles here--Sadie Crum, she had him -on the string for a year, till he didn't know where he was at. He took -it so hard that one day he up and shot hisself and left a note pinned on -to his bed that said: 'I go to test the problem.' Lord! I'd 'a' sold -every one of my tricks and all hers to him for a five-dollar bill! Why -didn't he come to _me_ to test his problem? He'd 'a' found out quick -enough." - -"Yes, and after you'd told him all about how it was done, I'll guarantee -that I could have converted him again in twenty minutes." - -"I guess that's right," said Vixley. "Them that want to believe are -goin' to, and you can't prevent 'em, no matter what you do. They're -like hop fiends--they've got to have their dope whether or no, and just -so long as they can dream it out they're happy." - - - - - *CHAPTER VIII* - - *ILLUMINATION* - - -It is easy to imagine the virtuous pride with which the civil engineer, -Jasper O'Farrell, set about the laying out of the town of San Francisco -in 1846. Here was the ideal site for a city--a peninsula lying like a -great thumb on the hand of the mainland, between the Pacific Ocean and a -deep, land-locked bay, an area romantically configured of hills and -valleys, with picturesque mountain and water views, the setting sun in -the west and Mount Diablo a sentinel in the east; to the northward, the -sea channel of the Golden Gate overhung by the foot-hills of Tamalpais. - -There was still chance to amend and improve the old town site of Yerba -Buena, the little Spanish settlement by the cove in the harbor, whose -straight, narrow streets had been artlessly ruled by Francisco de Haro, -alcalde of the Mission Dolores. He had marked out upon the ground, -northerly, La Calle de la Fundacion and the adjacent squares necessary -for the little port of entry in 1835. Four years later, when Governor -Alvarado directed a new survey of the place, Jean Vioget extended the -original lines with mathematical precision to the hills surrounding the -valley; and it would have been possible to correct that artistic blunder -of the simple-minded alcalde. But Jasper O'Farrell had seen military -service with General Sutter; his ways were stern and severe, his -esthetic impulses, if he had any, were heroically subdued. Market -Street, indeed, he permitted to run obliquely, though it went straight -as a bullet towards the Twin Peaks. The rest of the city he made one -great checkerboard, in defiance of its natural topography. - -As one might constrict the wayward fancies of a gipsy maiden to the -cold, tight-laced ethics of a puritanical creed, so O'Farrell bound the -city that was to be for ever to a gridiron of right-angled streets and -blocks of parallelograms. He knew no compromise. His streets took their -straight and narrow way, up hill and down dale, without regard to grade -or expense. Unswerving was their rectitude. Their angles were exactly -ninety degrees of his compass, north and south, east and west. Where -might have been entrancingly beautiful terraces, rising avenue above -avenue to the heights, preserving the master-view of the continent, now -the streets, committed to his plan, are hacked out of the earth and -rock, precipitous, inaccessible, grotesque. So sprawls the fey, -leaden-colored town over its dozen hills, its roads mounting to the sky -or diving to the sea. - -So the stranger beholds San Francisco, the Improbable. Its pageantry is -unrolled for all to see at first glance. Never was a city so prodigal -of its friendship and its wealth. She salutes one on every crossing, -welcoming the visitor openly and frankly with her western heart. In -every little valley where the slack, rattling cables of her car-lines -slap and splutter over the pulleys, some great area of the town exhibits -a rising colony of blocks stretching up and over a shoulder of the hill -to one side and to the other. Atop every crest one is confronted with -farther districts lying not only beneath but opposite, across lower -levels and hollows, flanking one's point of vantage with rival summits. -San Francisco is agile in displaying her charms. As you are whirled up -and down on the cable-car, she moves stealthily about you, now lagging -behind in steep declivities, now dodging to right or left in stretches -of plain or uplifted hillsides, now hurrying ahead to surprise you with -a terrifying ascent crowned with palaces. Now she is all water-front -and sailors' lodging-houses; in a trice she turns Chinatown, then shocks -you with a Spanish, Italian or negro quarter. Past the next rise, you -find her whimsical, fantastic with garish flats and apartment houses. -She lurks in and about thousands of little wooden houses, and beyond, -she drops a little park into your path, discloses a stretch of -shimmering bay or unveils magnificently the green, gently-sloping -expanse of the Presidio. - -No other city has so many points of view, none allures the stranger so -with coquetry of originality and fantasy. Some cities have single -dominant hills; but she is all hills, they are a vital part of herself. -They march down into the town and one can not escape them, they stride -north and west and must be climbed. The important lines of traffic -accept these conditions and plunge boldly up and down upon their ways. -And so, going or returning from his home, the city is always with the -citizen--from Nob Hill he sees ships in the harbor and the lights of the -Mission; from Kearney Street he keeps his view of Telegraph Hill and -Twin Peaks--the San Franciscan is always in San Francisco, the city of -extremes. - -Of all this topographical chaos, the most spectacular spot is Telegraph -Hill. To the eastward on the harbor side, it rises a sheer precipice -over a hundred feet high, where a concrete company has quarried stone -for three decades despite protest, appeal, injunction and the force of -arms. To the north and west the hill falls away into a jumble of -streets, cliffed and hollowed like the billows of the sea, crusted with -queer little houses of the Latin quarter. - - -Francis Granthope, after the Chinese supper, had found himself swayed by -an obsession. The thought of Clytie Payson was insistent in his mind. -She troubled him. He recognized the symptom with a grim sense of its -ridiculousness. It was, according to his theory, the first sign of -love; but the idea of his being in love was absurd. Certainly he -desired her, and that ardently. She stimulated him, she stirred his -fancy. But he was jealous of his freedom; he would not be snared by a -woman's eyes. Marriage, indeed, he had contemplated, but, to his mind, -marriage was but a part of the game, a condition which would insure for -him an attractive companion, a desirable standing; in short, a point of -vantage. What had begun to chafe him, now, was a sort of compulsion -that Clytie had put upon him. Somehow he could not be himself with -her--he was self-conscious, timid--he was sensitive to her vibrations, -he was swayed by her fine moods and impulses. Though the strain was -gentle, still she coerced him. He felt an impulse to shake himself -free. - -In this temper, he decided, while he was at dinner, to see her, and, if -he could, regain possession of the situation, master her by the use of -those arts by which he had so often won before. He would, at least, if -he could not cajole her, assert his independence. No doubt he had been -misled by her claims of intuitive power. He would put that to the test, -as well. - -It was already after sunset when he started across Union Square. -Kearney Street was alight with electric lamps and humming with life. He -walked north, passing the gayer retail shopping district towards the -cheaper stores, pawnshops and quack doctors' offices to where the old -Plaza, rising in a green slope to Chinatown, displayed the little -Stevenson fountain with its merry gilded ship. Here the waifs and the -strays of the night were already wandering, and he responded to frequent -appeals for charity. - -Beyond was the dance-hall district, where women of the town were -promenading, seeking their prey; sailors and soldiers descended into -subterranean halls of light and music. Then came the Italian quarter -with its restaurants and saloons. - -He paused where Montgomery Avenue diverged, leading to the North Beach, -consulted his watch, and found that it was too early to call. He -decided to kill time by going up Telegraph Hill, and kept on up Kearney -Street. - -Across Broadway, it mounted suddenly in an incline so steep, that -ladder-like frameworks flat upon the ribbed concrete sidewalks were -necessary for ascent. Two blocks the hill rose thus, encompassed by -disconsolate and wretched little houses, with alleys plunging down from -the street into the purlieus of the quarter; then it ran nearly level to -the foot of the hill. The track there was up steps and across hazardous -platforms, clambering up and up to a steep path gullied by the winter -rains, and at last, by a stiff climb, to the summit of the hill. - -From here one could see almost the whole peninsula, the town falling -away in waves of hill and valley to the west. The bay lay beneath him, -the docks flat and square, as if drawn on a map, red-funneled steamers -lying alongside. In the fairway, vessels rode at anchor, lighted by the -moon. The top of the hill was commanded by a huge, castellated, -barn-like white structure which had once been used as a pleasure -pavilion, but was now deserted, save by a rascally herd of tramps. At a -near view its ruined, deserted grandeur showed unkempt and dingy. By -its side, a city park, crowning the crest, scantily cultured and -improved, indicated the first rude beginning of formal arrangement. -Moldering, displaced concrete walls and seats showed what had been done -and neglected. - -He skirted the eastern slope of the hill, went up and down one-sided -streets, streets that dipped and slid longitudinally, streets tilted -transversely, keeping along a path at the top till he came to the cliff. - -Here was the prime scandal of the town, naked in all its horror. The -quarrymen had, with their blasting, robbed the hill inch by inch, foot -by foot and acre by acre. Already a whole city block had disappeared, -caving gradually away to tumble to the talus of gravel at the foot of -the steep slope. For years, the neighborhood had been terrorized by -this irresistible, ever-approaching fate. The edge of the precipice -drew nearer and nearer the houses, bit off a corner of the garden here, -ate away a piece of fence there, till the danger-line approached the -habitations themselves. Nor did it stop there; it crept below the -floors, it sapped the foundations till the house had to be abandoned. -Then with a crash, some afternoon, the whole structure would fall into -the hollow. House after house had disappeared, family after family had -been ruined. The crime was rank and outrageous, but it had not been -stopped. - -As Granthope walked, he saw bits of such deserted residences. Here a -flight of stone steps on the verge of the height, there fences running -giddily off into the air or drain-pipes, broken, sticking over the edge. -The hazardous margin was now fenced off--at any moment a huge mass might -slip away and slide thundering below. At the foot of the cliff stood -the lead-colored building housing the stone-crusher, whose insatiate -appetite had caused this sacrifice of property. It was ready to feed -again on the morrow. - -He walked to the edge and looked down a sharp incline, a few rods away -from the most dangerous part of the cliff. He was outside the fence, -now, with nothing between him and the slope. As he stood there, a dog -barked suddenly behind him. He turned--his foot slipped upon a stone, -twisted under him, and he fell outward. He clutched at the loose dirt, -but could not save himself and rolled over and over down the slope. -Forty feet down his head struck a boulder and he lost consciousness. - - -He came to himself with a blinding, splitting pain in his head; his body -was stiff and cold in the night air. He lay half-way down the slope, -his hands and face were scratched and bleeding, his clothes were torn. -He was motionless for some time, endeavoring to collect his senses, -wondering vaguely what to do. Then he stirred feebly, tried his limbs to -see what damage had been done and found he had broken no bones. His -ankle, however, was badly strained, and it ached severely. As he sank -back again, far down the hill towards the crusher building, a voice came -up to him: - -"Francis! Francis!" - -It penetrated his consciousness slowly. Still a little dazed, he rolled -over and looked down to the deserted street below. He tried to rise and -his ankle crumpled under him. He answered as loud as he could cry, then -lay there watching. - -Sansome Street lay bare in the moonlight. On the near side the hill -sloped up to him from the rock crusher. On the other side was a row of -gaunt buildings--a pickle factory, a fruit-canning works, and so on, to -the dock. An electric car flashed by and, as it passed, he saw a woman -moving to and fro at the foot of the talus. - -He sat up as well as he could on the slope and again shouted down to -her. She stopped instantly. Then, waving her hand, she started to -scramble up the slippery gravel of the hill. - -As she ascended, she had to zigzag this way and that to avoid sliding -back. Part of the time, she was forced to go almost on hands and knees. -The moon was behind her, throwing her face into shadow. She climbed -steadily without calling to him again. When she was a few yards away, -he cried to her: - -"Miss Payson! Is that you?" - -"Yes! Don't try to move, I'm coming." - -She reached him at last and knelt before him anxiously. Her tawny, -silken hair was loosened under her hat and streamed down into her eyes. -She had on a red cloth opera cloak with an ermine collar; this was -partly open, showing, underneath, a white silk evening dress cut low in -the neck. Her hands were covered with white suede gloves to the -elbow--they were grimy and torn into ribbons. Her white skirt, too, was -ripped and soiled. She put her hand to her hair and tossed it back, -then took his hands in hers. - -"Are you hurt?" she asked anxiously. - -"Not much. I believe I was stunned. I have no idea how long I've been -here. What time is it?" - -"It is almost eleven. Oh, I'm so glad I found you! I'm going to help -you down." She stooped lower to assist him. - -"But I don't understand," he said in astonishment. "How in the world did -you happen to come? What does it all mean?" His bewilderment was comic -enough to draw forth her flashing smile. - -"We'll talk about that afterwards. We must get down this hill first. -Oh, I hope there are no bones broken." - -"Oh, no, I'm all right," he insisted, "but it's like a dream! Let me -think--I was up on Telegraph Hill, and I slipped and fell over--then I -must have been unconscious until you came.--How did you happen to come? -I don't understand. It's so mysterious." - -"You must get up now. See if you can walk." She gently urged him. -"I'll explain it all when you're safe down there where we can get help." - -With her assistance he raised himself slowly, but the pain in his ankle -was too great for him to support his own weight. He dropped limply down -again and smiled up at her. - -"I think I might make it if I had a crutch of some kind--any stick would -do." - -"Wait, I'll see if I can find one." - -She left him, to go down, slipping dangerously at times, using her hands -to save herself. Part-way down she found an old broom--the straw was -worn to a mere stub, and this she brought back. - -With its aid and that of her steady arm, he hobbled down foot by foot. -He slid and fell with a suppressed groan more than once, but she was -always ready to lift him and support his weight in the steeper descents. -The lower part of the hill fanned out to a more gradual slope, where it -was easier going. They reached the sidewalk at last and he sat down -upon a large rock almost exhausted. - -Just then an electric car came humming down Sansome Street. In an -instant she was out on the track signaling for it to stop. - -"If you pass a cab or a policeman, please send them down here!" she -commanded. "This gentleman has met with an accident and we must have -help to take him home." - -The conductor nodded, staring at her, as she stood in her disheveled -finery, splendidly bold in the moonlight, like a dismounted Valkyr. The -car plowed on and left them. Calmly she stripped off her slashed gloves -and repaired the disorder of her hair. A long double necklace of pearls -caught the moonlight, and in the front breadth of her gown, a rent -showed a pale blue silken skirt beneath. Granthope, bedraggled and -smeared with blood and dust, was as grotesque a figure. The humor of the -picture struck them at once, and they burst into laughter. - -Then, "How did you know?" he said. - -She became serious immediately. "It was very strange. I was at a -reception with Mr. Cayley. I happened to be sitting on a couch by -myself, when--I don't know how to describe the sensation--but I saw you, -or felt you, lying somewhere, on your back. I was so frightened I -didn't know what to do. I knew something had happened, yet I didn't -know where to find you. I gave it up and tried to forget about it, but -I couldn't--it was like a steady pain--then I knew I had to come. It -seemed so foolish and vague that I didn't want to ask Mr. Cayley to go -on such a wild-goose chase with me. Father understands me better and if -he'd been there I would have brought him along. So I slipped out alone, -put on my things and took a car down-town. I seemed to know by instinct -where to get off--you should have seen the way the conductors stared at -me!--and I turned right down this way, trusting to my intuitions. I -seemed to be led directly to the foot of the cliff here where I first -called you." - -"Yes, you called 'Francis,' didn't you?" he said, looking up at her in -wonder. - -"Did I? I don't know what I said--if I did it was as instinctively done -as all the rest. We'll have to go into business together." Her laugh -was nervous and excited. - -He frowned. "Miss Payson, I don't know how to thank you--it was a -splendid thing to do." - -"Oh, it has been a real adventure--almost my first. But it's not over -yet. I must take you home now. What a sight I am! You, too! Wait--let -me clean you off a little." - -She stooped over him and, with a lace handkerchief, lightly brushed his -face free of the dust, wiped the blood away, then, with gentle fingers, -smoothed his black hair. Both trembled slightly at the contact. She -stopped, embarrassed at her own boldness, then stood more constrained -and self-conscious, till the rattling wheels of a carriage were heard. -A hack came clattering up over the cobble-stones and drew up at the -curb. The driver jumped down from his seat. - -There were a few words of explanation and direction, then the man and -Clytie, one on either side, helped Granthope into the vehicle. She -followed and the cab drove off up-town. For a few moments the two sat -in silence, side by side. An electric lamp illuminated her face for an -instant as the carriage whirled past a corner. Her eyes were shining, -her lips half open, as she looked at him. - -The sight of her, and the excitement of her romantic intervention, made -him forget his pain. He felt her spell again, and now with this -appearance how much more strongly! There was no denying her magic after -such a bewildering manifestation. The event had, also, brought her -humanly more near to him--he had felt the strong touch of her hand, her -breath on his face--the very disorder of her attire seemed to increase -their intimacy. He leaned back to enjoy the full flavor of her charm. -He was suddenly aroused by her placid, even voice: - -"Mr. Granthope, there's one thing you didn't tell me the other day, when -you described that scene at Madam Grant's." - -He caught the name with surprise, remembering that he had never spoken -it to her. In her mention of it he felt a vague alarm. - -"What?" He heard his voice betray him. - -"That there was a little boy with her, that day." Clytie turned to him, -and for the first time he felt a sudden fear that she would find him -out. - -"Was there a little boy there? How do you know?" - -She kept looking at him, and away, as she spoke. In the drifting of her -glances, however, her eyes seemed to seek his continuously, rather than -continually to escape. "Quite by accident--never mind now. But this is -what is most strange of all--I didn't tell you, before--while I was -there, that time, so many years ago--you know what strange fancies -children have--you know how, if one is at all sensitive to psychic -influence, how much stronger and how natural it seems when one is -young--well, all the while, I seemed to feel there was some one else -there--some one I couldn't see!" - -She was too much for him, with such intuition. His one hope was, now, -that she would not plumb the whole depth of his deceit. He managed his -expression, drawing back into the shadow. - -"Did you know who it was, there?" - -"No--only that I was drawn secretly to some one who was there, near me, -out of sight. Of course, I've forgotten much of the impression, but -now, as I remember it, it almost seems to me as if this little -boy--whoever he was--must be related to me in some vague way--as if we -had something in common. I wish I could find out about it. You know -better the rationale of these things--they come to me only in flashes of -intuition, suddenly, when I least expect them." - -He sought desperately to divert her from the subject, summoning to his -aid the tricks experience had taught him. First to his hand came the -ruse of personality. - -"You called me 'Francis' before--that was strange, for few people call -me that or Frank nowadays--only one or two who have known me a long -time." - -"Ah, I didn't know what I was saying. It was strange, wasn't it? But -you won't accuse me of coquetry at such a time, will you? You were in -danger--I thought only of that." - -"Oh, I don't mind," he said playfully. - -"Nor do I." - -"You'll call me Francis?" - -She smiled. "Every time I rescue you." - -There was evidently no lead for him there. He had to laugh, and give it -up. Clytie's mood grew more serious. - -"Mr. Cayley was telling me how interesting you were after the ladies had -left; really, he was quite complimentary. He told me all about that -absurd Bennett affair you talked about." - -"Yes, it was an extraordinary case." He wondered what was coming. - -"I mean the story was absurd to hear, but I can't help wondering what -sort of people they were who would deceive an old man like that. It -seems pitiful to me that any one could have the heart to do it--and for -money, too." - -Granthope cursed his indiscretion. Must she find this out, too? Was no -part of his life, past or present, safe from her? If so, he might as -well give her up now. It seemed impossible to conceal anything from her -clear vision. But he still strove to put her off. - -"Oh, these people were weak and ignorant--we haven't all the same -advantages or the same sensitiveness to honor and truth. They were used -to this sort of thing, hardened to it, and perhaps unconscious of their -baseness by a constant association with such deceptions." - -"But didn't Mr. Bennett have any friends to warn him--to show these -people up in their true light?" - -"Oh, that was no use. It was tried, yes; that is, he was shown his -carriage, for instance, after it was sold, but he refused to believe it -was the same one. He confessed that it was just like it, but he knew -that his was then on the planet Jupiter. I don't think the mediums -themselves could have convinced him." - -"Think of it! It makes their swindling even worse. If he had doubted, -if he had tried to trap them, it wouldn't be quite so bad, it would have -been a battle of brains--but to impose on such credulity, to make a -living by it--oh, it's unthinkable!" - -"Well, after all, they made him happy. In a way, they were telling him -only pleasant lies, as a parent might tell a child about Santa Claus and -the fairies." - -He could not keep it up much longer. It was too perilous; and he played -for her sympathy. "After all, I suppose my business is about as -undignified." - -"But it's really a science, isn't it? Mr. Cayley gave me to understand -that you had a convincing theory to explain all personal physical -characteristics." - -"There's a little more to palmistry than that, I think--an instinctive -feeling for character." - -"Of course. You must have felt my personality intuitively, or you would -never have been able to get it so well. But it was most extraordinary -of all, I think, the way you got my name. How do you account for that?" - -He felt the net closing about him. - -"Oh, I'm sometimes clairaudient." - -She took it up with animation. "Are you? I must try to send you a -message!" - -"Haven't you?" he said, still attempting to keep the talk less serious. -"All day I have heard you saying, 'You must learn.' But learn what?" - -"It seems so queer to me that you shouldn't know, yourself." - -"Then tell me. Explain." - -"No, you'll find out, I think." - -He waited a while, for a twinge of pain gave him all he could do to -control himself. Somehow it sobered him. "I wish I dared to be friends -with you." - -She gave him her hand simply and he returned its cordial pressure. He -was sincere enough, now. He was not afraid of mere generalities. - -"I'm not worthy of your friendship," he said. "I'd hate to have you -know how little I am worth it. If you knew how I have lived--what few -chances I have had to know any one really worth while. I've never yet -had a friend who was able to understand me." - -"I have given you my hand," she replied, "and I shall not withdraw it. -It is my intuition, you see, and not my reason, that makes me trust -you." - -They relapsed for a while into silence. Then, as the cab turned up into -Geary Street, past the electric lights, she went on as if she had been -thinking it out to herself. - -"You know what I said the other day about its being easier to say real -things at the first meeting. I am afraid I said too much then. But I -was impatient. I felt that I might never see you again and I wanted to -give you the message. Now, when I feel sure that we're going to be -friends, I am quite willing to wait and let it all come about naturally. -The only thing I demand is honesty." - -"Is that all?" he asked, with a touch of sarcasm. - -She laughed unaffectedly. "Are you finding it so hard?" - -The cab drew up to the curb at the door of his rooms. Immediately she -became solicitous, helping him to alight. He used the broom for a -crutch, and, scratched and torn, his clothes still stained with clay, -she in her harlequin of dirt and rags, they presented an extraordinary -spectacle under the electric light, to a man on the sidewalk who was -approaching leisurely, swinging his stick. As they reached the entrance -he drew nearer, making as if to speak to them; instead, he lifted his -hat, stared at them and passed on. It was Blanchard Cayley. - -Clytie's face went red. Cayley turned for an instant to look at them -again and then proceeded on his way. Granthope did not notice him. - -Clytie disregarded his protest, and, saying that she would see him -safely to his room, at least, accompanied him up-stairs. - -As he fumbled for his key in his pocket, the office door was suddenly -opened and Fancy Gray appeared upon the threshold. - -Her eyebrows went up and Granthope's went down. Her eyes had flown past -him to stare at Clytie. The two women confronted each other for a tense -moment without a word. - -Fancy had taken off her jacket; her hair was braided down her back. She -wore an embroidered linen blouse turned away at the neck, and pinned -over her heart was a little silver chatelaine watch with a blue dial. It -rose and fell as she drew breath suddenly. - -"Mr. Granthope has met with an accident," Clytie announced, the first to -recover from the shock of surprise. - -"I should say he had," was her comment, "and you, too?" Then she -laughed nervously. "It must have been a draw." - -Clytie did not catch the allusion. "I happened to find him and brought -him back," she explained. "He had fallen down the cliff on Telegraph -Hill." - -As Granthope limped in, Fancy put a few more wondering inquiries, which -he answered in monosyllables. Seeing Fancy so disconcerted, Clytie left -Granthope in a chair and turned directly to her with a conciliatory -gesture. - -"We always seem to meet in queer circumstances, Miss Gray, don't we?" -she said kindly. "It's really most fortunate that you happened to be -here at work. I don't quite know what I should have done, all alone, but -I'm sure you will do all that's necessary for Mr. Granthope, better than -I. I must hurry home; father will be expecting me." - -During this speech, Fancy's eyes had filled, and now they shone soft -with gratitude. - -"Oh," she said, "I can fix him up all right. It's only a bad strain, I -guess." - -Granthope watched the two women in silence. - -"Well, then, I'll go." Clytie walked to the mirror, smiled with Fancy -at the image she saw there, touched her hat and rubbed her face with her -handkerchief. Then she held out her hand with a charming simplicity. - -"I do wish you'd come and see me sometime, Miss Gray!" she said. - -Fancy choked down something in her throat before she replied. - -"I will--sometime--sure. If you _really_ want to see me." - -"Yes, I really do." Clytie smiled again. Then she went up to -Granthope. "Good night, Mr. Granthope, I'm sure I'm leaving you in kind -hands. I hope it won't prove a serious injury. And--remember!" Then, -bowing to both, she left the room and went down to her cab. - -Two vertical lines were furrowed in Granthope's brow. He turned to -Fancy with a look that barely escaped being angry. - -"God! I'm sorry you were here!" - -"Yes? That's easily remedied; you only have to say the word." - -"Too late, now!" His tone was sad rather than cruel. - -"I hardly expected you to bring home company--" she began. - -"I'm sure it was as much a surprise to me--" - -"I'm sorry, Frank, but I had to see you--Vixley was here after you -left." - -He groaned with the pain his ankle gave him and she flew to him and -knelt before his chair. - -"Oh, Frank, I'm so sorry. What can I do for you? First, let me take off -your shoe and attend to your foot. I can run out and get something to -put on it. It was awkward, my being here--but I don't mind on my own -account, so much. If it embarrassed you, forgive me." - -"It's worse than that," he said. - -"You mean--that you _care_ for her?" - -"I don't know what I do mean--but you'll have to go." - -She looked up at him for a moment, searching his drawn face. - -"I will, just as soon as I've bound up your ankle and got your couch -ready. It won't take long." - -"No, I can attend to that myself. I'll telephone for a doctor and have -him fix me up. You must go now." - -"All right. Just wait till I put on my jacket and do up my hair." - -Walking off, proudly, she opened the door of the closet and stood before -the mirror there, while he, a limp, relaxed figure in the arm-chair, -watched her as she unbraided her hair and combed it out in a magnificent -coppery cascade to her waist. Tossing her head, she said: - -"Vixley's laying for you, Frank! You'd better watch out for him. It's -something shady about the old man's past, I believe. Anyway, I hope -you'll fool 'em, Frank!" - -With this complication of his position, he bent his head on his hand as -if he were weary. "I don't know what I'm going to do," he said. "It's -too much for me, I'm afraid." - -"What's the matter?" said Fancy solicitously. "Didn't I work it right? -Honest, Frank, I didn't give you away a bit--I didn't tell him a word. -You know my work isn't lumpy--I just pumped him. I beat him at his own -game, and it didn't taste so good, either. Oh, I'm so sorry if I did -anything to hurt you. I'd die first!" - -As he did not answer her she came over to him and knelt on the floor, -seizing his hand. Her tears fell upon it. - -"You've been mighty good to me, Frank, you sure have! You took me off -the streets when I was starving. I don't know whatever would have -become of me. I suppose I'd gone right down the line, if it hadn't been -for you. You're the only friend I've got, and I only wish I could do -something to prove how grateful I am. Honest, I thought I was helping -you out when I kept Vixley here. You don't think--you don't think I -_like_ him--do you? Don't say _that_, Frank!" - -She was speaking in gasps now; her tears were unrestrained. Her hand -clutched his so fiercely that he could scarcely bear the pain. He did -not dare to look at her. - -"I've always been square with you, Frank, haven't I?" - -He patted her hand softly. - -"We've kept to the compact, haven't we? The compact we made at Alma? -You trust me, don't you?" - -"Of course! You're all right--you're true blue. I couldn't distrust -you. You'll always be the Maid of Alma. It was a game thing you did -for me. Nobody else would have done it. You have helped me, but I can't -tell you what a corner I'm in." He paused and looked at her intensely. -"Fancy--you haven't forgotten--have you?" - -She forced a trembling smile, as she said bravely: - -"'No fair falling in love'?" - -"Yes." - -She shook out a laugh and stroked his hand, looking up at him through -her tears. "Oh, no danger of that, Frank. You don't know me. I'm all -right, sure! Only--and I owe you so much! You've taught me everything. -If I could only do something to prove that I'm worth it." - -"You can--that's the trouble. I believe I'm almost cur enough to ask it -of you." - -"What is it? Tell me, quick! You know I'd black your boots for you. -I'd do anything." - -"Did you notice Miss Payson's face when she saw you?" - -"Yes." Fancy dropped her head. - -"I'd hate to have her suspect--if she thought--" - -"Oh!" She sprang to her feet and stood as proud as a lioness. "Is that -it? You want me to go for good?" Even now there was no anger in her -look or tone. The little silver watch heaved up and down on her breast. - -He sought for a kind phrase. "I'm afraid it would be better--it makes -me feel like a beast--of course, you understand--" his eyes went to her, -pleading. - -"Then it _is_ Miss Payson? Oh, Frank, why didn't you tell me! You -might have trusted me! You ought to have known better! Haven't I -always said that when the woman who could make you happy did come, how -glad I'd be for you?" - -"You're really not hurt, then? I was afraid--" - -"Poor old Frank! You goose! Of course not--it makes me sorry to think -of leaving you, that's all. Never mind--there's nothing in the race but -the finish! I'm all right." She had become a little hysterical in her -actions, but he was too distracted to notice it. - -"I'll let you have all the money you want--I'll get you a good -place----" he began. - -She shook her head decidedly. "Cut that out, please, Frank; but thanks, -all the same. If I ever want any money, I'll come to you. Why -shouldn't I? But not now. Don't pay me to go away--that sounds rotten. -I'll get a position all right. Didn't I turn down that secretary's -place only last week? But I guess I'll travel on my looks for a while. -I'm flush." - -"I hope I can tell her all about this, sometime," he said wearily. - -"Bosh! What's the use? Thank God some women know that some women are -square without being told. Men seem to think we're all cats. Even women -talk of each other as if they were a different sort of human animal. -But not Miss Payson--she's a thoroughbred. I can see _that_ all right. -You can't fool Fancy Gray about petticoats. I take off my hat to her. -She's got every woman _you_ ever had running after you beaten a mile. -Don't you worry--she'll never be surprised to find that a woman can be -square. Well, I'll fade away then." - -As she talked she buttoned up her jacket and stuck the hat pin in her -hair. Now her eyes grew dreamier and she went over and sat on the arm -of his chair and put her hand on his hair affectionately, saying: - -"Say, Frank, I don't know--after all, perhaps sometime you might just -tell her this--sometime when the thing's all going straight, when she's -got over--well, what I saw in her eyes to-night--when she finds out what -you're worth--when she really knows how good you are--you just tell her -this--say: 'There's one thing about Fancy Gray, she always played fair!' -She'll know then; but just now, you can be careful of her--watch out -what you do with her, she's going to suffer a whole lot if you don't. -You know something about women, but you'll find out that when you're -sure enough in love you'll need it all, and what you know isn't a drop -in the bucket to what you've got to learn. I hope you'll get it good and -hard. It'll do you good. You only know one side now. You'll learn the -rest from her. She's not the sort to do things half-way. When she -begins to go she'll go the limit." - -She leaned over him. "You might give me one kiss just to brace me up, -will you? It may take the taste of Vixley off my lips. Well, so long. -Don't take any Mexican money! If there's anything I can do, let me -know." She rose and tossed a smile at him with her old jaunty grace. -Then she patted him on the cheek and went swiftly out. - - - - - *CHAPTER IX* - - *COMING ON* - - -By artful questions, and apparently innocent remarks to lure his -confidence, by a little guess-work, more observation, and a profound -knowledge of the frailties of human nature, Madam Spoll had plied Oliver -Payson to good advantage. - -She got a fact here, a suggestion there, and, one at a time, she -arranged these items in order, and with them wove a psychological web -strong enough to work upon. It was partly hypothetical, partly proved, -but, slender and shadowy as it was, upon it was portrayed a faint image -of her victim--a pattern sufficient for her use. Every new piece of -information was deftly used to strengthen the fabric, until at last it -was serviceable as a working theory of his life and could be used to -astonish and interest him. Of this whole process he was, of course, -unaware, so cleverly disguised was her method, so skilful was her tact. -She never frightened her quarry, never permitted him to suspect her. -Her errors she frankly acknowledged and set down to the ignorance of her -guides. She had, indeed, many holes by which she could escape--set -formulae for covering her petty failures. - -After two or three interviews, she had filled up almost all the weak -spots in her web, and was prepared to encompass her victim by wiles with -which to bleed him. - -Mr. Payson had gone away from his first interview limping slightly more -than usual, and had talked considerably about his ailment to his -daughter. Clytie, not knowing what had increased his hypochondria, was -inclined to laugh at his fears and complaints. He found a more -sympathetic listener in Blanchard Cayley, who took him quite seriously -and discoursed for an hour in Payson's office upon the possibilities of -internal disorders, such as the medium had mentioned. - -The result was a visit to Doctor Masterson. - -The healer's quarters were two flights up in one of the many gloomy -buildings on Market Street, half lodging-rooms, half offices, inhabited -by chiropodists, cheap tailors, "painless" dentists and such riffraff. -The stair was steep and the halls were narrow. The doctor's place was -filled with a sad half-light that made the rows of bottles on the -shelves, the skull in the corner and the stuffed owl seem even more -mysterious. The room was dusty and ill-kept; the floor was covered with -cold linoleum. - -The magnetic healer's shrewd eyes glistened and shifted behind his -spectacles; the horizontal wrinkles in his forehead, under his bald -pate, drew gloomily together as Mr. Payson poured out the story of his -trouble. For a time the doctor said nothing. Then he took a vial full -of yellow liquid from his table, carried it to the window, held it to -the light, examined it solemnly and put it back. He sat down again and -looked Mr. Payson over. Then he tilted back in his chair, stuck a pair -of dirty thumbs in the armholes of his plaid waistcoat, and said, "H'm!" -Finally, his thin lips parted in a grisly smile showing his blackened -teeth. - -His victim watched, anxiously waiting, with his two hands on the head of -his cane. The gloom appeared to affect his spirits; he seemed ready to -expect the worst. - -Doctor Masterson took off his spectacles and wiped them on a yellow silk -handkerchief. "It looks pretty serious to me," he said, "but I -calculate I can fix you up. It'll cost some money, though. Ye see, -it's this way: I'm controlled by an Indian medicine-man named Hasandoka -and his band o' sperits. Now, in order to bring this here psychic force -to bear on your case, it's bound to take considerable o' my time and -their time, and I'll have to go to work and neglect my reg'lar patients. -It takes it out o' me, and I can't do but just so much or I peter out. -I'll go into a trance and see what Hasandoka has to say, and then you'll -be in a condition to know what to decide. O' course, you understand, I -ain't no doctor and don't claim to be, but I got control of a powerful -psychic force that guides me in my treatment, and I never knew it to -fail yet. If my band o' sperits can't help you, nobody can, and you -better go to work and make your will right away. See?" - -Mr. Payson saw the argument and manifested a desire to proceed with the -investigation. - -The doctor loosened his celluloid collar and closed his eyes. In a -minute or two he appeared to fall asleep, breathing heavily. - -Then, through him, the great Hasandoka spoke, in the guttural dialect -such as is supposed to be affected by the American Indian, using flowery -metaphors punctuated by grunts. - -The tenor of his communication was that Mr. Payson was undoubtedly -afflicted with something which was termed a "complication." He went -into fearsome prophecies as to its probable progress downward to the -feet, upward to the brain and forward to the kidney, with minor -excursions to the liver and lights. The patient's spine was preparing -itself for paralysis; it seemed that death was imminent at any moment. -Hasandoka expressed his willingness to accept the case, however, and -promised to effect a radical cure in a month at most, if treatment were -begun immediately, before it was too late. The cure would be -accomplished by massage, used in connection with a potent herb, known -only to the primitive Indian tribes. After this message Hasandoka -squirmed out of the medium's body and the soul of Doctor Masterson -squirmed in again. There were the customary spasmodic gestures of -awakening before he opened his eyes. - -"Well, what did he tell you?" he asked. - -Mr. Payson repeated the communication in a dispirited tone. - -"Bad as that, is it?" said Masterson. "One foot in the grave, so to -speak. Well, I tell you what I'll do. I'm interested in your case, for -if I can go to work and cure you it'll be more or less of a feather in -my cap. See here; I won't charge you but fifty dollars a week till -you're cured, and if you ain't a well man in thirty days, I'll hand your -money back. That's a fair business proposition, ain't it? I guarantee -to put all my time on your case." - -Mr. Payson gratefully accepted the terms. A meeting for a treatment was -appointed for the next day. - -This time Doctor Masterson was prepared for his victim. - -[Illustration: Doctor Masterson was prepared for his victim] - -"I've been in direct communication with Hasandoka," he said, "and I'm -posted on your case now, and have full directions what to do. The first -thing is a good course of massage. Now, which would you prefer to have, -a man or a woman? I got a girl I sometimes employ who's pretty slick at -massage. She's good and strong and willing and as pretty as a peach, if -I do say it--she's got a figger like a waxwork--I think p'raps Flora -would help you more'n any one--" - -Mr. Payson shook his head coldly, saying that he preferred a man. - -"Oh, o' course," Doctor Masterson said apologetically, shrugging his -shoulders, "if you don't want her I guess I better go to work and do the -rubbing myself, if you'd be better satisfied." - -The Indian herb prescribed by Hasandoka was, it appeared, a rare, secret -and expensive drug. The doctor's price was ten dollars a bottle, in -addition to his weekly charge for treatment. He presented Mr. Payson -with a bottle of dark brown fluid of abominable odor. - -The treatment went on thrice a week, the massage being alternated with -trances in which the doctor, under the cogent spell of the medicine man, -uttered many strange things. The whole effect of this was to reassure -Mr. Payson upon the fact that powerful influences were at work for his -especial benefit. - -Whether induced by Hasandoka's aid or by Doctor Masterson's suggestion, -an improvement in the patient's mind, at least, did come. He was met, -the following week, by the magnetic healer in his rooms with a -congratulatory smile. Doctor Masterson inaugurated the second stage of -his campaign. - -"Say, you certainly are looking better, ain't you? How's the pain, -disappearing, eh? I thought we could bring you around. Yesterday I was -in a trance four hours on your case and it took the life out o' me -something terrible. I knew then that I was drawing the disease out o' -you. You just go to work and walk acrost the room, and see if you ain't -improved. We got you started now, and all we got to do is to keep it up -till you're absolutely well." - -Blanchard Cayley also seemed interested when Mr. Payson told him of the -improvement. - -"You certainly are growing younger every day," said Cayley. "I don't -know how you manage it at your age, in this vile weather, too, but I -notice you've got more color and more spring in you. You're a wonder!" - -One afternoon, during the third week of his treatment, as Mr. Payson was -seated in his own office, the door opened and a chubby, roly-poly figure -of a woman, with soft brown eyes and hair, came in timidly and looked -about, seemingly perplexed and embarrassed. She walked up to his desk. - -"I beg your pardon," she said, "but could you tell me where Mr. -Bigelow's office is, in this building? I thought it was on this floor, -but I can't find his name on any door." - -He replied, scarcely glancing at her: "Down at the end of the corridor, -on the left." - -She stood watching him for a moment as he continued his writing, and -then ventured to say: - -"I beg your pardon, sir, but ain't you the gentleman that come to me -some time ago to have your life read?" - -He looked up now and recognized her as the one who had initiated him -into the occult world, through the medium of the "Egyptian egg." - -"Why, yes." He smiled benevolently. "You're Miss Ellis, aren't you?" - -She seemed pleased. "Yes," she answered; "I hope you don't mind my -reminding you of it, but I took an interest in your case more than -usual, on account of your reading being so different, and I was -surprised to see you here. You're looking much better than you did -then. When you come into my place, I said to myself, 'There's a man -that'll pass out pretty soon if he don't take care of himself.' You -seemed so miserable. Why, I wouldn't know you now, you're so much -improved. You must have gained flesh, too. Well, I congratulate you. -If you ever want another reading, come around--here's my card, but -perhaps you've tried Madam Spoll since. She's the best in the business. -I go to her myself sometimes." - -He walked to the door with her and bowed her out politely. - -A week after he made another visit to Madam Spoll. The medium was -gracious and congratulatory. - -"Why, you look like a new man, that's a fact!" she said. "Between you -and me, I never really expected that you could recover, but I knew if -anybody could help you it would be Masterson. I suppose he come pretty -high, didn't he? Two hundred! For the land sake! I'm sorry you had to -fall into the hands of that shark, but, after all, it's cheaper than -being dead, ain't it? A desperate disease requires a desperate remedy, -they say. I wouldn't take you for more than forty years old now, in -spite of your gray hairs. - -"Now," she continued, "you've had experience and you're in a position to -know whether there's any truth in spiritualism or not. No matter what -anybody tells you about fakes or tricks and all that nonsense--I don't -say some so-called mediums ain't collusions--you've demonstrated the -truth of it for yourself, and you've found out that we can do what we -say. You can afford to laugh at the skeptics and these smart-Alecs who -pretend to know it all. What we claim can be proved and you've proved -it. Lord, I'd like to know where you'd be now if you hadn't. I've -always said: 'Investigate it for yourself, and if you don't get -satisfaction, leave it alone for them that do. Go at it in a frank and -honest spirit and try to find out the truth, and you'll generally come -out convinced.' I don't believe in no underhanded ways of going to work -at it neither. If you was going to study up Christian Science, or -Mo-homedism, we'll say, you wouldn't be trying to deceive them and -giving false names and all, and why should you when you want to find out -about the spirit world? What you want to do is to depend upon the -character of the information you get, to test the truth of what we -claim. You treat us square and we'll treat you square. We ain't -infalliable, but we can help. Whatever is to be had from the spirit -plane we can generally get it for you." - -"I'm very much interested," Mr. Payson said. "There does seem to be -something in it, and I want to get to the bottom of it. There are -several things I'd like to get help on, too." - -"Do you know, I knew they was something worrying you," she replied, -smiling placidly. She laid her fingers to her silken thorax. "I felt -your magnetism right here when you came in, and I got a feeling of -unpleasantness or worry. It ain't about a little thing either; it's an -important matter, now, ain't it?" - -Mr. Payson, affected by her sympathy, admitted that it was. Under his -shaggy eyebrows, his cold eyes watched her anxiously, as if gazing at -one who might wrest secrets from him. His belief in her had increased -with every sitting, so that now the old man, gray and bald, in his -judicial frock-coat, lost something of his influential manner and became -more like a child before his teacher, swayed by every word that fell -from her lips. - -Her manner was half patronizing, half domineering. "What did I tell you? -You feel as if, well, you don't quite know _what_ to do, and you're -saying to yourself all the time, 'Now, what _shall_ I do?' That's just -the condition I get." - -"Do you think you could help me?" - -"I don't know; I'll try. I ain't feeling very receptive to spirit -influence to-day; I guess I overeat myself some; but then, again, I -might be very successful; there's no telling. You just let me hold your -hands a few minutes and I can see right off whether conditions are -favorable or not." - -He did so. Suddenly she turned her head to one side and spoke as if to -an invisible person beside her. - -"Oh, she's here, is she? What is it? She says she can't find him? -Well, what about him? What? Shall I tell him that?" - -She opened her eyes and drew a long breath. - -"Luella is here and she says to tell you that Felicia wants to give you -a message. Do you understand who I mean?" - -"Yes, I know. She's the lady you spoke to me about before, with the -white hair." - -"Would her name be Felicia Grant?" - -He assented timidly, as if fearing to acknowledge it. - -"Well, Felicia says she has found the child--child, the one that was -lost. Do you understand?" - -"Yes, yes. Go on!" - -"Really, I don't like to tell you this, Mr. Payson--" - -"Tell anything." - -Madam Spoll dropped her voice, as if fearful of being overheard. "You -was in love with her. - -"Yes." He eyed her glassily. - -"And you was the father of the child?" - -He nodded, still staring. - -Madam Spoll smiled complacently. "Well, Felicia says she has found the -boy, and she's going to bring him to you as soon as conditions are -favorable. She can't do it yet; the time ain't come for it. That's all -I can get from her. But Luella says you're worried about a book, and -she wants to help you." - -"How can she help?" - -"Wait a minute." Madam Spoll smoothed her forehead with both hands for -a while, then went on: "It seems that she can't work through me so well, -it being what you might call a business affair, and she recommends that -you try some one else, while I'll try to get the boy. I think a -physical medium could help you more. There's Professor Vixley; he's -something wonderful in a business way. I confess I can't comprehend it. -Are you selling books?" - -"Not exactly." - -"Well, whatever it is, Vixley's the one to go to. He'll do well by you -and you can trust him. I'll just write down his address; you go to see -him and tell him I sent you, and I guarantee he'll give satisfaction. -About the child, now, we'll have to wait. I shouldn't wonder if you -could be developed so you could handle the thing alone. You've got -strong mediumistic powers, only they're what you might call asleep and -dormant. If you could come to me oftener we might be able to produce -phenomena, for you're sensitive, only you don't know how to put your -powers to the right use. You could join a circle, I suppose, but the -quickest way is to have sittings with me, private." - -The old man took off his spectacles and wiped off a mist. His hand was -trembling. "I might want to try it later," he said at last, "but I'm -not quite ready to, yet--I want to think it over. If you really think -that this Vixley can help about the book, I'll look him up first. I -want it to be a success, and I am a bit worried about it." - - -When he reached home he went into the living-room, to find Blanchard -Cayley sitting there at ease, bland, suave and nonchalant. Clytie had -not yet returned for dinner. Mr. Payson shook his hand cordially. - -"I'm glad to see you, Blanchard. Been looking over that last chapter of -mine? What do you think of it?" - -"I haven't had time to read it yet. I've been expecting Cly home any -minute." - -"How are you getting on with her? Is she still skittish?" - -"Oh, it'll come out all right, I expect," the young man said carelessly. - -"I hope so! She's a good girl. I know she'll see it my way in the -end--you just hold on and be nice to her. You know I'm on your side. -I'd give a good deal to see Cly married to a good man like you. Strange, -she doesn't seem to take any interest in my work at all. If I didn't -have you to talk to, I don't know what I'd do. Suppose I read you that -last chapter while we're waiting for her. I'd like to get your -criticism of it. That trade dollar material has helped me immensely." - -For half an hour, while Mr. Payson read the driest of dry manuscripts, -Blanchard Cayley yawned behind his hand or nodded wisely, with an -approving word or two. The old man had pushed up his spectacles over -his forehead and held the sheets close to his eyes. He read in a mellow, -deep voice, but it was the voice of a pedant. - -"There," he said at last, stacking up the scattered papers. "I guess -that will open their eyes, won't it?" - -"It's great; that book will make a sensation." - -"Well, it isn't finished yet, and what's to come will be better than -what I've done. I'm on the track of something that may help it a good -deal." - -"What's that?" said Cayley perfunctorily. - -"See here," Mr. Payson drew his chair nearer and shook his pencil at the -young man. "I've had some wonderful experiences lately. You may not -believe it, but I tell you there's something in this spiritualistic -business. I've been investigating it for a month now all alone, and I'm -thoroughly convinced that these mediums do have some sort of power that -we don't understand." - -"Really?" Cayley was beginning to be interested. "I knew you had always -been an agnostic, but I had no idea that you had gone into this sort of -thing. Have you struck anything interesting?" - -"I certainly have. I went into it in a scientific spirit, as a skeptic, -pure and simple, but I've received some wonderful tests. Why, they told -me my name the very first thing and a lot about my life that they had no -possible way of finding out. The trouble is, they know too much." - -Cayley laughed. "Found out about your wild oats, I suppose?" - -Mr. Payson frowned at this frivolity. "There are things they've told me -that no one living could possibly know. Whether it's done through -spirits or not, it's mysterious business. You ought to go to a seance -and see what they can do." - -"I'd hate to have them tell my past," Cayley said jocosely, "but I don't -take much stock in them. They're a gang of fakirs." - -"They're pretty sharp, if they are. I haven't lived fifty years in the -West to be taken in as easily as that. I ought to know something about -men by this time. Why, see here! You know what trouble I had with my -leg? It was something pretty serious. Well, look at me now. You've -noticed the change yourself. I went to a medium and now I'm completely -cured. That's enough to give any one confidence, isn't it? It's genuine -evidence." - -Cayley agreed with a solemn nod. "But what about the book?" - -"Why, if they can influence the right forces so that it'll be a success, -why shouldn't I give them a trial? Look at hypnotism! Look at wireless -telegraphy! For that matter, look at the telephone! Fifty years ago no -one would believe that such things were possible. It may be the same -with this power, whatever it is, spirits or not. I'm an old man, but I -keep up with the times. I'm not going to set myself up for an authority -and say, because a thing hasn't seemed probable to me, that I know all -about the mysterious forces of nature. I've come to believe that there -are powers inherent in us that may be developed successfully." - -The incipient smile, the attitude of bantering protest had faded from -Cayley's face, as the old man spoke. He listened sedately. Oliver -Payson was a rich man. He had an attractive, marriageable daughter. -Blanchard Cayley was poor, single and without prospects. - -"Of course, there's much we don't yet understand," he said gravely. -"One hears all sorts of tales--there must be some foundation to them." - -"That's so--why, just look at Cly! She's had queer things happen to her -ever since she was a child." - -"Yes, I suppose that's why she's so interested in this palmist person; -though I confess I don't take much stock in him." - -"What do you mean?" Mr. Payson demanded. - -"Why, I thought of course you knew. Granthope, the palmist--you know, -the fellow everybody's taking up now--he has been here, hasn't he? I -had an idea that Cly had taken rather a fancy to him." - -"He was here?" Mr. Payson seemed much surprised. - -"Why, I wouldn't have spoken of it for the world if I had known you -didn't know--but I've seen her with him several times, and I thought, of -course--" Cayley threw it out apologetically in apparent confusion at -his indiscretion. - -Mr. Payson stared. "Granthope, did you say? I believe I have heard of -him. Cly and a common palmist? I can't believe it. What can she want -of a charlatan like that?" - -"I was sorry to see it myself," Cayley admitted, "but I suppose she -knows what she's doing. The man's notorious enough. Only, she ought to -be careful." - -"I won't have it!" Mr. Payson began to storm. "Reading palms for a lot -of silly women is a very different thing from spiritualism. I don't -mind her going to see him once for the curiosity of the thing, but I -won't have him in the house. I'll put a stop to that in a hurry. You -say you've seen them together? Where?" - -"Oh, I think it was probably an accidental meeting," he said. "I wish -you wouldn't say anything about it, Mr. Payson. Very likely it doesn't -mean anything at all. Tell me about this fellow you spoke of going to. -Do you think he's all right?" - -"I'll soon find out if he isn't--trust me!" Mr. Payson wagged his head -wisely. "His name is Professor Vixley, and I've heard he's a very -remarkable man. I'm going to see him next week and see what he can do -for me. I'm not one to be fooled by any claptrap; I intend to sift this -thing to the bottom." - -"How do you intend to go about it?" Cayley asked. "I'll tell you what -I'd do. I'd ask him to answer a few definite questions. If he can do -that, it'll be a pretty good test, even if it is only thought-reading." - -"If there's anything in thought transference there may be something in -spiritualism, too. One's as unexplainable as the other. See here! -Suppose I ask him something that I don't know the answer to -myself--wouldn't that prove it is not telepathy?" - -"I should say so; but what could you ask?" - -Mr. Payson had arisen, and was walking up and down the room with his -hands behind his back. He stopped to deliberate beside the bookcase, -then he took down a volume at random. "Suppose I ask him what the first -word is on page one hundred of this book." - -He looked over at Cayley, then down at the title of the book. - -"_The Astrology of the Old Testament_--queer I should put my hand on -that! I'll try it. I won't look at the page at all." He put the book -back on the shelf. "Can't you suggest something? Suppose you give me a -question that you know the answer of and I don't." - -Blanchard Cayley sought for an idea, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. -Then he said slowly: "I used to know a girl once in Sacramento who lived -next door to me. Try Vixley on her name, why don't you?" - -"Good! I'll do it. Now one more." - -"You might ask him the number of your watch." - -"That's a good idea; then I can corroborate that on the spot." - -"You'd better let me see if there's one there, though," Cayley -suggested. "I believe sometimes they are not numbered. Just let me -look." - -Mr. Payson took out his watch and handed it to the young man, who opened -the back cover and inspected the works. He noted the number, took a -second glance at it and then snapped the cover shut. "All right, if he -can tell that number, he's clever." He handed it back to Mr. Payson. -"When did you say you were going to see him?" he asked. - -"Next Tuesday or Wednesday, I expect," was the reply. "I've got to go -up to Stockton to-morrow, and I may be gone two or three days attending -to some business. By the by, Cayley, I heard rather a queer story last -week when I was up there. You're interested in these romantic yarns of -California; perhaps you'd like to hear this." - -"Certainly, I should. It may do for my collection of Improbabilities." - -"Well, I met the cashier of the Savings Bank up there--he's been with -the bank nearly thirty years and he told me the story. It seems one -noon, about twenty years ago, while he was alone in the bank, a little -boy of seven or eight years of age came in, and said he wanted to -deposit some money. The cashier asked him how much he had, thinking, of -course, that he'd hand out a dollar or two. The boy put a packet -wrapped in newspaper on the counter, and by Jove! if there wasn't -something over five thousand dollars, in hundred-dollar greenbacks! -What do you think of that? The cashier asked the boy where he got so -much money, suspecting that it must have been stolen. The boy wouldn't -tell him. The cashier started round the counter to hold the boy till he -could investigate, and, if necessary, hand him over to the police. The -little fellow saw him coming, got frightened, and ran out the door, -leaving the money on the counter. He has never been heard from since." - -"Well, what became of the money, then?" - -"Why, it had to be entered as deposited, of course. The boy had written -a name--the cashier doesn't know whether it was the boy's own name or -not--on the margin of the newspaper, and the account stands in that -name, awaiting a claimant." - -"What was the name?" - -"The cashier wouldn't tell me, naturally. It has been kept a secret. -With the compound interest, the money now amounts to something like -double the original deposit." - -"It's a pity I don't know the name; I might prove an alibi." - -"Oh, I forgot--and it really is the point of the whole story. The -package was wrapped in a copy of _Harper's Weekly_, and the boy, whose -hands were probably dirty, had happened to press a perfect thumb-print -on the smooth paper. Of course, that would identify him, and if any one -could prove he was in Stockton at that time, give the name and show that -his thumb was marked like that impression, the bank would have to permit -him to draw that account." - -"That lets me out," said Cayley, "unless that particular thumb-print -happens to show a banded, duplex, spiral whorl." - -"What in the world do you mean?" Payson asked. - -"Why, you know thumb-prints have all been classified by Gallon, and -every possible variation in the form of the nucleal involution and its -envelope has been named and arranged." - -"I didn't know that," said Payson. "But I did know there were no two -thumbs alike. That's the way they identified my partner when he was -drowned. He was interested in the subject, having read of the Chinese -method, and he happened to have a collection of thumb-prints, including -his own, of course, done in India ink. His body was so disfigured and -eaten by fishes that he couldn't be recognized until, suspecting it -might be he, we proved it by his own marks." - -"I didn't know you ever had a partner." - -"Oh, that was years ago, soon after Cly was born. His name was Ichabod -Riley. That was a queer story, too. His wife was a regular Jezebel, -Madge Riley was, and there's no doubt she poisoned her first two -husbands. She was arrested and tried for the murder of the second, but -the jury was hung, and she wasn't. Ichabod was supposed to have been -accidentally drowned off Black Point, but I have good reason to believe -that he committed suicide on account of her. He was afraid of being -poisoned as well. She is supposed to have killed her own baby, too. - -"Well," Mr. Payson added, rising, "I've got to go up-stairs and get -ready for dinner. You'll stay, won't you?" - -"I'll wait till Cly gets home, at any rate, but I'll not promise to -dine." - -The old man went up-stairs, leaving Cayley alone beside the bookcase. - -When he returned he found Cayley, cool and suave as ever. Clytie was -with him, standing proudly erect on the other side of the room, a red, -angry spot on either cheek. She held no dreamy, listless pose now; -something had evidently fully awakened her, stinging her into an -unaccustomed fervor. Her slender white hands were clasped in front of -her, her bosom rose and fell. Her lips were tightly closed. - -Mr. Payson, near-sighted and egoistic, was oblivious of these stormy -signs, and remarked genially: "You're going to stay to dinner, aren't -you, Blanchard?" - -Blanchard Cayley drawled, "I think not, Mr. Payson; I'll be going on, if -you'll excuse me," smiling, "and if Cly will." - -"Don't let us keep you if you have another appointment," she said, -without looking at him. - -He left after a few more words with the old man, who began at last to -smell something wrong. - -"What's the matter, Cly?" he asked. - -She had sat down and was pretending to read. Now she looked up -casually: - -"Oh, nothing much, father, except that he was impertinent enough to -question me about something that didn't concern him." - -"H'm!" Mr. Payson took a seat with a grunt and unfolded his newspaper. -"I'm sorry you two don't get on any better." - -"We'd get on well enough if he'd only believe that when I say 'no' I -mean it." - -He stared at her, suddenly possessed by a new thought. "Is there -anybody else in the field, Cly?" - -"There are many other men that I prefer to Blanchard Cayley." - -"What is this about your being with this palmist chap?" - -"Did Blanchard tell you that?" she asked with exquisite scorn. - -"Have you seen much of this Granthope?" - -"I've seen him four times." - -"And you have invited him to my house?" - -"He has been here." - -Mr. Payson rose and shook his eye-glasses at her. "I must positively -forbid that!" he exclaimed. "I won't have you receiving that fellow -here. From what I hear of him he's a fakir, and I won't encourage him -in his attempts to get into society at my expense." - -"Do you mean to say that you forbid him the house, father? Isn't that a -bit melodramatic? I wouldn't make a scene about it. I am twenty-seven -and I'm not absolutely a fool. I think you can trust me." - -"Then what have you been doing with him? What does it all mean, -anyway?" - -"As soon as I know what it means, I'll tell you. At present, I think we -had better not discuss Mr. Granthope." - -He blustered for a while longer, iterating his reproaches, then simmered -down into a morose condition, which lasted through dinner. Clytie knew -better than to discuss the subject with him. Her calmness had returned, -though she kept her color and did not talk. The two went into the -library and read. - -Shortly after eight o'clock the door-bell rang. As it was not answered -promptly, Mr. Payson, still nervous, irascible and impatient, went out -into the hall, growling at the servant's delay. - -He opened the door, to see Francis Granthope, rather white-faced under -his black hair, supporting himself on crutches. - -"Is Miss Payson at home?" he asked, taking off his hat. - -"Yes, she is. Won't you step in? What name shall I give her, please?" -Mr. Payson spoke hospitably. - -"Thank you. Mr. Granthope," was the answer. - -The old man turned suddenly and returned his visitor's hat. - -"I beg your pardon," he said sternly, "but Miss Payson is not at -home--for you--and I don't intend that she ever shall be. I have heard -enough about you, Mr. Granthope, and I desire to say that I can not -consent to your being received in my house. You're a charlatan and a -fakir, sir, and I do not consider you either my daughter's social equal -nor one with a character respectable enough to associate with her. I -must ask you to leave this house, sir, and not to come again." - -Granthope's eyes glowed, and his jaws came together with determination. -But he said only: - -"Very well, Mr. Payson, I'm sure that I do not care to call if I'm not -welcome. This is, of course, no place to discuss the subject, but I -shall not come here again without your consent. As to my meeting her -again, that lies wholly with her. You may be sure that I shall not -annoy her with my attentions if she doesn't care to see me. But I ask -you, as a matter of courtesy, to let Miss Payson know that I have -called." - -"See that you keep your word, sir--that's all I have to say," was Mr. -Payson's reply, and he stood in the doorway to watch his visitor down -the garden walk. He remained there until Granthope had descended the -steps, then walked down after him and watched him to the corner. - -Mr. Payson returned to the library sullenly. - -"That palmist of yours had the impertinence to come here and ask for -you," he informed Clytie, "but I sent him about his business, and I -expect he won't be back in a hurry." - -Clytie looked up with a white face. "Mr. Granthope, father?" She rose -proudly and faced him. "Do you mean to say that you were rude enough to -turn him away? It's impossible!" - -Mr. Payson walked up and down the room in a dudgeon. - -"I certainly did send him away, and what's more, I told him not to come -back." - -Clytie, without another word, ran out into the hall. The front door was -flung open and her footsteps could be heard on the gravel walk. Mr. -Payson seated himself sulkily. - -In five minutes more she had returned, slowly, her hair blown into a -fine disorder, the color flaming in her cheeks, her eyes quickened. - -"What in the world have you been doing?" her father demanded. - -"I wanted to apologize for your rudeness," she answered, "but I was too -late." - - - - - *CHAPTER X* - - *A LOOK INTO THE MIRROR* - - - "He gives exact and truthful revelations of all love affairs, - settles lovers' quarrels, enables you to win the affection and - esteem of any one you desire, causes speedy and happy - marriages--" - - -Granthope put down the paper with a look of disgust. It was his own -advertisement, and it had appeared daily for months. He took up his -desk telephone with a jerk, and called up the _Chronicle_ business -office. - -"This is Granthope, the palmist. Please take out my displayed ad., and -insert only this: 'Francis Granthope, Palmist. 141 Geary St., Readings, -Ten Dollars. Only by Appointment. Ten till Four.'" - -There was now a red-headed office boy in the corner where Fancy Gray -used to sit. Granthope missed her jaunty spirit and unfailing -comradeship. Not even his endeavor to give his profession a scientific -aspect amused him any longer. He had lost interest in his work. He was -uneasy, dissatisfied, blue. He went into his studio listlessly, with a -frown printed on his brow. Until his first client appeared he lay upon -the big couch, his eyes fixed upon the light. - -He had been there a few moments when his office boy knocked, and opening -the door, injected his red head. - -"Say, dere's a lady in here to see you, Mr. Granthope!" - -"Who is she?" - -The boy grinned. "By de name of Lucie. Says you know her." - -"Tell her I can't see her." - -Granthope turned away, and the boy left. - -The room was as quiet as a padded cell, full of a soft, velvety -blackness, except where the single drop-lamp lighted up the couch. -Ordinarily the place was, in its strange dark emptiness, a restful, -comforting retreat. Now it imprisoned him. Above his head the great -ring of embroidered zodiacal signs shone with a golden luster. They -were the symbols of the mysterious dignity of the past, of the dark ages -of thought, of priestcraft and secret wisdom of the blind centuries that -had gone. But, a modern, incongruously set about with such medieval -relics, he felt for the first time, undignified. In their time these -emblems had represented all that existed of knowledge. Now, to him they -stood for all that was left of ignorance and superstition; and it was -upon such instruments he played. - -He read palms perfunctorily that Saturday. He seemed to hear his own -voice all the while, and some dissociated function of his mind scoffed -continually at his chicanery. It was the same old formula: "You are not -understood by those about you. You crave sympathy, and it is refused. -You are extraordinarily sensitive, but when you are most hurt you often -say nothing. You have an intuitive knowledge of people. You have a -wonderful power of appreciation and criticism. People confide in you. -You are impulsive, but your instinct is usually sure"--the same -professional, easy rigamarole, colored with what hints his quick eyes -gave him or his flagging imagination suggested. - -Women listened avidly, drinking in every word. How could he help telling -them what they loved so to hear? They asked questions so suggestive -that a child might have answered. They prolonged the discussion of -themselves, obviously enjoying his apparent interest. He caught himself -again and again playing with their credulity, their susceptibility, and -hated himself for it. They lingered, smiling self-consciously, and he -delayed them with a look. In very perversity, he began deliberately to -flatter their vanity in order to see to what inordinate pitch of conceit -their minds would rise. He affected indifference, and even scorn--they -followed after him still more eagerly. He grew, at last, almost -savagely critical, an instinct of cruelty aroused by such complacent, -egregious egoism. They fawned on him, like spaniels under the lash. - -After a solitary dinner he returned to his rooms. For an hour or two he -tried to lose himself in the study of a medical book. Medicine had long -been his passion and his library was well equipped. Had he been reading -to prepare himself for practice he could not have been more thorough. -To-night, however, he found it hard to fix his attention, and in despair -he took up a volume of Casanova's _Memoirs_. There was an indefatigable -charlatan! The fascinating Chevalier had never wearied in ill-doing; he -kept his zest to the last. He skipped to another volume to follow the -pursuit of Henriette, of "C.V.," of Therese. The perusal amused him, and -he got back something of his cynical indifference. - -It was after eleven o'clock when he laid down the book and rose to look, -abstractedly, out of the office window. He longed for an adventure that -should reinstate him as his old careless self. - -He left his rooms, went up to Powell Street and finally wandered into -the noisy gaiety of the Techau Tavern. The place was running full with -after-theater gatherings, and he had hard work to find a table. All -about him was a confusion of excited talk, the clatter of dishes, the -riotous music of an insistent orchestra. Parties were entering all the -while, beckoned to places by the head waiter. The place was garish with -lights and mirrors. - -Granthope had sat there ten minutes or so, sipping his glass, noticing, -here and there, clients whom he had served, when, between the heads of -two women, far across the room, he recognized Mrs. Page. It was not -long before she saw him, caught his eye, and signaled with vivacity. -The diversion was agreeable; he rose and went over. A glance at her -table showed him a company most of whose members he had met before, but -with whom, only a few months since, he would have counted it a social -success to be considered intimate. While not being quite of the elect, -they held the key of admission to many high places in virtue of their -wit and ingenious powers to please. They were such as insured -amusement. Granthope himself was this evening desirous of being amused. - -With Mrs. Page was Frankie Dean, the irrepressible, voluble, sarcastic, -a devil in her black, snapping eyes, as cold-blooded as a snake. It was -she who had so nearly embarrassed him at the Chinese supper at the -Maxwells'. She eyed him now, dark, feline, whimsically watching her -chance to make sport of him. With them was a young girl from Santa Rosa, -newly come to San Francisco, an alien in such a company. She was slight -and dewy, vivid with sudden color, with soft, fervent eyes that had not -yet learned to face such audacity as her companions practised. Keith -and Fernigan were there, also, like a vaudeville team, rollicking with -fun, playing into each other's hands, charging the company with abandon. -Lastly, "Sully" Maxwell sat, silent, happy, indulgent, with his pockets -filled with twenty dollar gold-pieces, which he got rid of at every -opportunity. He spoke about once every fifteen minutes, and then -usually to the waiter. "A good spender" was Sully--that quality and his -unfailing good-nature carried him into the gayest circles and kept him -there unnoticed, until the bills were to be paid. - -To Granthope, tired with his day's work, in conflict with himself, -morbidly self-conscious, the scene was stimulating. There was an -atmosphere of inconsequent mirth in the group, which dissolved his mood -immediately. The women, smartly dressed, bubbling with spirit, quick -with repartee--Keith and Fernigan, their sparkling dialogue interrupted, -waiting for another auditor--even Sully, prosperous, good-natured, -hospitably making him welcome--the group attracted him, rejuvenated him, -enveloped him with their frivolity. The party was in the first -effervescence of its enthusiasm. Mrs. Page was at her sprightly best, -impellent, a gorgeous animal. Even Frankie Dean, whom he did not like, -was temptingly piquant and brisk. The little girl had a novelty and -virginal charm. He had been out of his element all day. Here, he could -be himself. He could take things easily and jocosely, and have no -thought of consequences. His mood disappeared like a shattered -soap-bubble, and he was caught into their jubilant atmosphere. - -He was introduced to the girl from Santa Rosa, who looked up at him -timidly but with evident curiosity, as at a celebrity, and sat down -between her and Mrs. Page. Sully Maxwell took advantage of the new -arrival to order another round of drinks--club sandwiches, golden -bucks--till he was stopped by Frankie Dean. Keith and Fernigan -recommenced their wit. Mrs. Page looked at him with all kinds of -messages in her eyes, as if she were quite sure that he could interpret -them. The girl from Santa Rosa said nothing, but, from time to time, -gave him a shy, curious glance from her big brown eyes. Granthope's -spirits rose steadily, but his excitement had in it something hectic. -In a sudden pause he seemed to remember that he had been speaking rather -too loudly. - -After the party had refused, unanimously, further refreshment, Sully -proposed that they should all drive out to the Cliff House, and they -left the restaurant forthwith to set out on this absurd expedition. It -was already long past midnight; the adventure was a characteristic San -Francisco pastime for the giddier spirits of the town. - -Sully was for hiring two hacks; Mrs. Page, giggling, vetoed the -proposition, and Frankie Dean supported her. Decidedly that would be -commonplace; why break up the party? The girl from Santa Rosa looked -alarmed at the prospect. Granthope smiled at her ingenuousness, and -liked her for it. The result of the sidewalk discussion was that Sully -obligingly mounted beside the driver, and the six others squeezed into -the carriage, the door banged, and they proceeded on their hilarious way -toward the "Panhandle" of the Park. On the rear seat Granthope sat with -Mrs. Page and Frankie Dean on either hand, protesting that they were -perfectly comfortable. Opposite him the girl from Santa Rosa leaned -forward on the edge of the cushion, shrinking away from the two men -beside her. - -Mrs. Page made an ineffectual search in the dark for Granthope's hand. -Not finding it, she began to sing, under her breath: - - "It was not like this in the olden time, - It was not like this, at all!" - -and Frankie Dean, quick-witted enough to understand the situation, -remarked, "Oh, Mr. Granthope doesn't read palms free, Violet; you ought -to know that!" She darted a look at him. - -So it went on frothily, with chattering, laughter, snatches of song, -jests and stories, punctuated occasionally by the rapping of Sully's -cane on the window of the carriage, as he leaned over in a jovial -attempt to participate in the fun. Granthope, for a while, led the -spirit of gaiety that prevailed, told a story or two, "jollied" Mrs. -Page, laughed at Keith's inconsequence, accepted Frankie Dean's -challenges. But the frank, bewildered eyes of the little girl from Santa -Rosa, fixed upon him, disconcerted him more than once. - -The carriage soon entered Golden Gate Park. The night was warm and -still, the dusk pervaded with perfumes. Under the slope of Strawberry -Hill Maxwell stopped the carriage and ordered them all out to invade the -shadowy stillness with revelry. The night air was that of belated -summer, full of a languor that comes seldom to San Francisco which has -neither real summer nor real winter, and the wildness of the place, -remote, unvisited, was exhilarating. A mock minuet was started, races -run, even trees climbed by Frankie Dean the audacious, with shrieks and -laughter, all childishly with the sheer joy of living. Granthope and -the girl from Santa Rosa, after watching the sport with amusement for a -while, left the rest and walked on past a turn of the road, to stand -there, discussing the stars, while the cries of the two women came -softened along the sluggish breeze. The girl took off her hat and -breathed deeply of the night air. They walked on farther through the -gloom, till only an occasional faint shout reached them from the party. -Granthope put the girl at her ease, pointed out the planets and the -constellations and explained the principles of ancient astrology. They -had begun to forget the rest when they were overtaken and captured again -and the crowded carriage took its way towards the sea. - -Upon a high ledge of rock jutting out into the Pacific, at the very -entrance to the Bay of San Francisco, stands the Cliff House, a white, -wooden, many-windowed monstrosity with glazed verandas, cupolas, -frivolous dormers, cheap, garish, bulky, gay, seemingly almost toppling -into the water. Here come not only such innocently holidaying folk as -Fancy Gray and Gay P. Summer, not only jaded tourists and the -Sunday-outing citizens who lie upon the warm beach below and doze away a -morning in the sun and wind. It was patronized of old by the -buggy-riding fraternity, the smokers, the spenders, with their -lights-o'-love, as the most popular of road-houses. The cable-cars and -the two "dummy" railroad lines have changed its character somewhat, but -it is still a show-place of the town. There is good eating, a gorgeous -view of the Pacific, and the sea-lions on the rocks below. - -Here Mrs. Page's party alighted, near three o'clock in the morning. The -bar only was open, its white-frocked attendant sleeping behind the -counter. This they entered, yawning from their ride. The barkeeper was -awakened, peremptorily, and was ordered to prepare what he had for -refreshment. With hot beans from the heater, tamales, potato salad, -cold cuts, crackers and cheese, he laid a table in a small dining-room. -Sully Maxwell undertook all the arrangements, fraternized with the -barkeeper, selected beverages, not forgetting ginger ale for the girl -from Santa Rosa. Mrs. Page and Frankie Dean, somewhat disheveled, -retired, to appear trig and trim and glossy in the gaslight, ready for -more gaiety. Granthope, meanwhile, had wandered out upon the veranda to -watch the surf dashing on the rocks, to note the yellow gleam from the -Point Bonita light, and smell the salt air; to get his courage up, in -short, for another round of animation. The instant he returned Mrs. Page -went at him. - -"Now, Frank," she said, "it won't do to sulk or to flirt with Santa -Rosa. What's got into you, anyway? You must positively do something to -amuse us." - -"Office hours from ten till four," Keith murmured audibly. - -Frankie Dean turned on him: "They never let you out of your cage at -all!" - -Fernigan, thereat, began an absurd pantomime that half terrified the -girl from Santa Rosa. He pretended to be a monkey behind the bars of a -cage, eating peanuts--and worse. It was shockingly funny. The company -roared, all but Granthope. He was at the point of impatience, but -replied with what sounded like ennui: - -"I'm a bit stale, Violet; you'll have to excuse me if I'm stupid -to-night. I came to be entertained." - -Frankie Dean looked at him mischievously. "Never mind, Mr. Granthope, -she'll come back." - -It was obviously no more than a cant phrase, intended for a witticism. -Mrs. Page, however, took it up with mock seriousness. - -"Who's '_she_', now? _I'm_ back in the chorus again! There _was_ a -time, Frank--" Her voice was sentimental; she tilted her head and -looked at him, under half-closed eyelids, across the table. - -"I say, Granthope, you ought to publish an illustrated catalogue of 'em. -There's nothing doing for amateurs, nowadays. When women pay five -dollars to have their hands held what chance is there for us?" This -from Keith, with burlesque emphasis. - -Mrs. Page would not be diverted. "No, but really, Frank; who _is_ she? -I've quite lost track of your conquests." - -"Oh, you know I'm wedded to my art," he said lightly. - -"Yes, and it's the art of making love, isn't it?" - -"'No further seek his merits to disclose,'" said Keith, and Fernigan -added, "'Nor draw his frailties from their dread abode.'" - -The girl from Santa Rosa looked suddenly bursting with intelligence, -recognizing the quotation. She started to finish it, then stopped; her -lips moved silently. Granthope smiled. - -Frankie Dean had been watching her chance for another at his expense. -Now she asked, with apparent frankness: "Mr. Granthope, can you tell -character by the lines on the soles of the feet?" - -"Science of Solistry," murmured Keith to the Santa Rosa girl. - -"Let's try it!" Mrs. Page exclaimed. "I will, for one! Do you know my -second toe's longer than my great toe? I'm awfully proud of it. I can -prove it, too!" - -"Go on!" Frankie Dean dared her. - -The girl from Santa Rosa stared, her lips apart. "Why, every one's is, -aren't they?" - -"No such thing!" Mrs. Page stopped and almost blushed. A chorus of -laughter. - -"Oh, there are a good many better ways of telling character than that," -said Granthope. - -"Yes," Keith put in. "Indiscreet remarks, for instance." - -Mrs. Page bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders. "Oh, if I were going -in for indiscreet remarks I might make a few about _you_!" - -Here Sully interposed. "Isn't this conversation getting rather -personal? I move we discard all these low cards. This is no woman's -club. The quiet life for mine." - -The hint was taken by Keith, who began an English music-hall song, to -the effect that "John was a nice good 'usband, 'e never cared to roam, -'e only wanted a quiet life, 'e only wanted a quiet wife; there 'e would -sit by the fireside, such a chilly man was John--" where he was joined -in the chorus by Fernigan--"Oh, I 'opes and trusts there's a nice 'ot -fire, where my old man's gone!" Maxwell pounded in time upon the table. -The girl from Santa Rosa hazarded a laugh. - -Granthope looked on listlessly, ever more detached and introspective. -This was what he had been used to, since he could remember, but now, in -the stuffy little room, with its ghastly yellow gas-light, the smell of -eatables and wine, the pallor of the women's faces, the flush of -Maxwell's, the desperate frivolity, the artificiality of it all bored -him. He wondered, whimsically, why he had ever looked forward to being -the companion of such a society as this. It was all harmless enough, -unconventional as it was, but he tasted the ashes in his mouth. -Perhaps, after all, he was only not in the mood for it. He tried to -smile again. - -Fernigan seized a small Turkish rug from the floor and hung it in front -of him, like a chasuble. Standing before the company he intoned a -sacrilegious parody, like everything he did, funny, like everything he -did, atrocious: - -"_O, sanctissimus nabisco in colorado maduro domino te deum, e pluribus -unum vice versa et circus hippocriticam, mephisto apollinaris nux vomica -dolores intimidad mores; O rara avis per diem cum magnum vino et sappho -modus vivendi felicitas,_" to the droned "_A--men_." - -Keith then enlivened the company with what quaint parlor tricks he knew, -or dared, from making of a napkin a ballet dancer pirouetting upon one -toe, to limericks that were suppressed by Sully Maxwell, Mrs. Page -laughed prodigiously, showing all her teeth, staring with her great -eyes, vivid in her every expression, flamboyant, sleek and glossy, -abounding in temperament. Frankie Dean smiled maliciously and plied the -performers with her acrid wit. The girl from Santa Rosa listened, her -cheeks burning. - -At six they went outside for fresh air and promenaded the glazed veranda -until the sun rose. In front of them was the broad Pacific, stretching -out to the Farralones, even to Japan. To the north, across the bar, -yellowed with alluvium from the San Joaquin and Sacramento Rivers, a -mountainous coast stretched to far, misty Bolinas. Southward ran the -broad, wide beach exposed by the ebb tide. It was damp and cool; the -last spasm of summer had given way to the brisk, stimulating weather -that was San Francisco's usual habit. Granthope buttoned his light -overcoat tightly over his rumpled evening dress and walked with the girl -from Santa Rosa, enjoying the scene quietly, speaking in monosyllables. -The others had a new burst of effervescence, still more desperate than -ever; their hilarity was indefatigable. Keith walked along the tops of -the tables, leading Mrs. Page. Frankie Dean and Fernigan two-stepped -the length and breadth of the wide platform, joking incessantly. - -A walk up the beach was then suggested, and, after a preliminary -furbishing of faces and hair, they went down the steep rocky road to the -wide strand, and proceeded along the shore. - -Granthope, falling behind, saw that the girl from Santa Rosa alone had -waited for him. She gazed at him steadily with grave eyes. - -"Well," he said kindly, "what d'you think of San Francisco?" - -She looked down at the sand and drew a circle with her toe before she -answered. - -"It's pretty gay here, isn't it?" - -"Oh, well, if you call this sort of thing gay!" - -The girl looked immensely relieved, gave him a quick, searching glance, -and said shyly: "Do you know, Mr. Granthope, I have an idea that you -didn't enjoy it any more than I did!" - -He smiled at her, then silently grasped her hand. She blushed and turned -away. - -"I thought it was going to be great fun," she said, as they walked on. -"I never was up all night before. It's awfully exciting. But people do -look awful in the morning, don't they?" - -She herself was like a blossom wet with dew, but Granthope knew what she -meant, well enough. He had watched the lines come into Mrs. Page's face -and her mouth droop at the corners; he had noticed the glitter fade from -Frankie Dean's black eyes, and her lids grow heavy. - -"You ought never to have come," he said. "I think you'd better go home -and get to bed. Suppose we leave them and walk across to the almshouse -and take the Haight Street cars?" - -"Oh, d'you think they'd mind, if we did?" - -"They'd never notice that we were gone, I'm sure." - -"I'm afraid you'll find me awfully stupid. Miss Dean is very witty, -isn't she?" - -"I'd rather be stupid." - -"You're sure I won't bore you?" - -"I don't feel much like talking, myself. I have plenty to think about. -Suppose we don't say anything, unless we have something to say." - -"Oh, I didn't know you could do that--in San Francisco!" - -He laughed sincerely for the first time that night. - -As they came to the place where the beach road turned off for Ingleside, -the rest of the party was some distance ahead. They were sitting upon -some rocks, and, as Granthope looked, he saw Mrs. Page rise, lift her -skirts and walk barefooted across the sands, down to the water's edge. -She turned and waved her hand to him. He took off his hat to her and -pointed inland in reply. Then he climbed the low sand-hills with his -companion and struck off southward, along the road. The girl had colored -again. - -Her confidence in him was soothing. She was so serious and innocent, so -quick with a country girl's delicate observation of nature, that he fell -into a more placid state of mind. She became more friendly all the -while, till, despite her confession of shyness, she fairly prattled. He -let her run on, scarcely listening, busy with his own thoughts. And so, -up the long road to the almshouse, resting in the pale sunshine -occasionally, through the Park to the end of the Haight Street -cable-line they walked, and talked ingenuously. - -She lived in "The Mission," and there, having nothing better to do, he -escorted her, and at last, in that jumble of wooden buildings so -multitudinously prosaic, between the Twin Peaks and the Old Mission, he -left her. She bade him good-by apparently with regret. Widely -different as they were in mind and temperament, they had, for their -hour, come closely together. Now they were to recede, never again, -perhaps, to meet. - -He walked in town along Valencia Street, through that curious "hot belt" -which defies the town's normal state of weather, turned up Van Ness -Avenue, still too busy with his reflections to shut himself up in his -studio. It was Sunday morning--he had almost forgotten the day--and he -turned up his collar, to conceal what he could of his evening attire and -its wilted, rumpled linen, somewhat uncomfortable in the presence of the -church-going throngs which pervaded the avenue. - -He had reached the top of the long slope leading to the Black Point -military reservation, and was pausing upon the corner of Lombard Street, -when, looking up the hill, he saw Clytie Payson coming down the steep, -irregular pathway that did service for a sidewalk. He stepped behind a -lamp-post and watched her, uncertain whether or not to let her see him. - -She came tripping down, picking her way along the cleated double plank, -too intent upon her footsteps to look far ahead. The sight of her made -him a little trepid with excitement; it focused his dissatisfaction with -himself. He knew, now, what had disturbed him. It was the thought of -her. She had forced him to look at himself from a new point of view, -with a new, critical vision. He longed for her approval. Her gentle -coercion was drawing him into new channels of life, and he felt a sudden -need for her help. He was losing his whilom comrades, his old familiar -associations repelled him. He had nothing to sustain him now, but the -thought of her friendship. - -But, in his present state, he had not the courage to address her. As a -child plays with circumstances and makes his own omens, he left the -decision to chance. If she turned and saw him, he would greet her and -throw himself on her grace. If not, he would pass on without speaking, -much as he longed to speak. - -She came down to the corner diagonally opposite and paused for a moment, -looking off at the mountains and the waters of the Golden Gate. He saw -her make a sudden movement, as if waking from her abstraction, then she -walked over in his direction. He came out from his cover and went to -meet her. - -"Good morning, Mr. Granthope!" She was smiling, holding out her hand. -"I thought I recognized you! Something told me to stop a moment, and -wait. Then suddenly I saw you. You see, you can't escape me!" - -He was visibly embarrassed, conscious of his significantly unkempt -appearance. She, however, did not show that she noticed it. - -"How is your ankle?" was her first inquiry. He assured her that it had -given him no trouble for a week, and he expressed his thanks to her for -her help. - -"I've been hoping I might see you," she said, "to apologize for the -reception you received the last time you called. I can't tell you how -unhappy it made me, nor how I regret it." - -"Mayn't I see you a while now?" He felt at such a disadvantage in his -present condition that it was embarrassing to be with her, and yet he -longed for another hour of companionship. - -"Let's walk down to the Point," she said. "I can get in the -reservation, and it will be beautiful." - -As they walked down across the empty space at the foot of the avenue and -along the board-walk over the sand, she talked inconsequently of the day -and the scene, evidently attempting to put him at his ease. The little -girl from Santa Rosa had given him a passive comfort. Clytie's -companionship was an active and inspiring joy. His depression ceased; a -sane, wholesome content filled him. He watched her graceful, -leopard-like swing and the evidences of vitality that impelled her -movements. - -They passed the sentry who nodded to her at the gate, went past the -officers' quarters, down a little path lined with piled cannon-balls, -out to a small promontory that overlooked the harbor. Here there was an -old Spanish brass cannon in its wooden mortar-carriage, and a seat on -the very edge of the bluff. The harbor extended wide to the southeast. -Inshore was a covey of white-sailed yachts in regatta, just tacking, to -beat across to Lime Point, opposite. - -As they sat down, Clytie said, "Now do tell me about Miss Gray. How is -she?" - -"She's not with me any more." - -She lifted her brows. "Where is she?" - -"I don't know, quite." - -"You haven't seen her since she left?" - -"No, not for two weeks." - -Clytie frowned and bit her lip, then shook her head silently. Then she -remarked, as if to herself, "I like her. I'm sure she's fine." - -"She likes you, too." - -"I wish I might see her," she went on, her eyes fixed on the mountains. -"I'd like to do something for her. I might get her a position in my -father's office, I'm sure, if she'd take it. I have a curious feeling, -though, that it is she who will be more likely to do something for me." - -"If she ever can, you may be sure she will. Fancy is true blue." - -"You didn't--have any misunderstanding with her, did you?" - -"Oh, no." - -She seemed to notice his reluctance to explain, and did not pursue the -subject. - -She turned and her eyes fell upon his hand, which lay carelessly upon -his knee. "Let me see your palm," she said impulsively. "I've never -looked at it carefully. I suppose you've told your own fortune often -enough." - -He gave his left hand to her. She barely touched it, holding it -lightly, but he felt the magnetism of the contact almost as a caress. -"You'll find my line of fate shows that I'm to change my career," he -remarked. "It's broken at the head line, you see, and begins over -again." - -"Now, let me look at your right hand." - -She looked at it, and her expression changed subtly. It was as if she -had found some secret satisfaction in his palm, some answer to her -desires. - -"What d'you see?" - -"The heart line." - -In his left hand it began near the root of the second finger, at the -mount of Saturn, not, as he would have preferred, farther toward the -index finger, at the mount of Jupiter. He wondered if that meant to her -what it did, in his professional capacity, to him--an indication of more -sensual tastes. Half its length was cobwebbed with tiny branches, and -punctuated with islands; then it ran, deep and clear to the edge of the -palm, almost straight. In his right palm the line was cleaner, simpler, -undivided. - -She had begun to color, faintly; she had turned her eyes from him. Into -her loveliness had come a new element of charm. There was something -special in it, something for him alone; it was as if she had been -signaling to him, and he had not, till now, understood. Instantly every -line in her body seemed to be imbued with a new grace, a new meaning, -translating her spirit. He was too full of the inspiration to speak; he -could only look at her, irradiated, as if he had never seen her before. -To his admiration for her beauty, his respect for her character, his -interest in her mind, there was added something more; the total was not -to be accounted for by the sum of these. And the wonderful whole -satisfied the divine fastidiousness of his nature. She was for him the -supreme choice. Her mind worked like his. Her very size pleased him. He -seemed to know her for the first time. He had desired her, before, for -her beauty and her intelligence; he had thought calmly of love and -marriage. But now he felt the supreme demand for possession, -because----only because he _must_ have her--because nothing else in his -life mattered. - -A secret ray of thought seemed to carry the message back to her, for, -apparently embarrassed by the intensity of his silence, she rose and -walked a few paces, with her hands behind her back, gazing off at the -harbor. It was not thought that he sent, however, for he could not -think; it was a new function of his soul aroused, excited, thrilling him -with the power of its vibration. - -When that wave broke, he was at a loss for words. How could he say how -much he wanted her? How could he ask if she, too, felt that same -thrill, while he winced under this new, mortifying sense of the -cheapness and falsity of his life? He could not yet bring himself to -confess the miserable truths; it was not the larger, more obvious things -he was afraid of, for she knew well enough of these--but one or two -shameful details came into his mind and made him shrink from himself. - -She turned to him again, composed, though still she showed elation. - -"I'm sorry Fancy had to go," she said earnestly. Her eyes were steady, -though her lips were still quivering. - -"It was too bad. But it was necessary." - -She gave him a swift, searching look. - -"Oh! Then you are--finding out?" - -"I'm being pushed on, somehow. It's really queer, as if the force came -from outside of myself--" - -"Oh, no! I'm sure not!" - -"Something is working out in me--" - -Clytie smiled rarely, her face illuminated. "Oh, fate deals the cards, -but we have to play them ourselves. And--I think--you've taken several -tricks already." - -"You mean--about Fancy Gray?" - -"No--that I can't judge--I never have judged. Your advertisement in the -papers." - -He was immensely surprised, pleased. "You have noticed that already? -Why, this is only the very first day--" - -"I have watched for it every day." - -There was another pause. Her remark was revealing--yet he dared not -hope too far. He felt so near to her, so intimate in that revelation -that he feared to deceive himself. Oh, he was for her, now! His heart -clamored for possession, yet he could not declare himself. They were -upon different spiritual altitudes. Women, before, had come at his -whistle. Now he was awkward, timid, excited with expectancy, his heart -going hard. - -"There is a reason why I was glad to see that change, Mr. Granthope," -she continued. He waited for her words eagerly. She looked away, her -eyes following the sails in mid-channel. "I'm thinking of leaving -town." - -The announcement fell upon him like a blow. "You are going away!" he -exclaimed, his voice betraying him. - -"Not for a week or two, perhaps." - -"A week!" The words stung him. "Don't go--yet!" he exclaimed faintly. - -"I don't want to go--yet. My aunt in the East has invited me to visit -her for six months." She spoke calmly, but did not look at him. - -"I'll have to hurry, won't I?" he said with a desperate, whimsical -inflection. - -"Yes. You'll have to hurry." - -For a while he was too agitated to speak. If there had needed anything -more to convince him of his state of mind, this sufficed. He was aware, -by the sense of shock, how much he cared. - -"Before I go, I'd like to ask a favor of you, Mr. Granthope." - -It almost comforted him. "What is it--of course, I'll do anything." - -"Will you see if you can find out something about that little boy who -lived with Madam Grant?" - -There it was again! This blow turned his mind black. She was gazing at -him earnestly--he could hardly bear her look, so placid, so sincere. -"You mean--clairvoyantly?" he stammered. - -"Yes. I think we might do it, together." - -He rose to walk up and down the top of the bank for a few minutes. Once -he stopped and gazed at her fiercely, under tensely set brows. Finally -he returned hopelessly. - -"I'm sorry, but I can't do that." - -"Why not?" - -He hesitated. "I know I couldn't get anything." - -"But you did before?" - -He longed desperately to confess everything, but he could not speak. He -felt her recede from him; their delightful intimacy was broken. She did -not insist further, and self-contempt kept him silent, till he broke -out, "Oh, it's you who must help _me_!" - -"I've done all I can for you. You must find out the rest for yourself." - -"I don't dare to think how much you have to find out about me." - -"Tell me!" - -"I haven't the courage." - -She let her hand fall lightly upon his for an instant. "Well, that only -proves, doesn't it, that, so long as there's anything insurmountable in -the way of directness and simplicity, you haven't gone all the way. I'll -wait." - -"I'm so afraid of losing your sympathy and your respect." - -"But you can't stop still!" - -"I'm afraid of losing _you_!" - -He saw the tears come into her eyes. "Ah, there's only one way you can -lose me," she said deliberately. - -"How?" He was eager. - -She did not answer, but arose slowly. "I think I must be going." - -He followed her, thoroughly dissatisfied with himself at having let his -moment pass. He understood her well enough. It was only by stopping -still, as she had said, that he could lose her. She had started a -change in him, and it must go on. Something which tied his hands, his -mind, must be cut; he must be free of that before he could speak. - -They retraced their steps, she talking, as when they had come, -inconsequently; he, moody, troubled inwardly, self-conscious. She was -to give him one more hope, however. As she left him, on the avenue, she -offered her hand, and smiled. - -"Don't give it up," she said, and turned away, leaving him standing -alone, still fighting his battle with himself. - -He had enough to think of, as he strode home, ill-satisfied with himself -and in a turmoil of thought in regard to her. There was no question of -mastery, now; she had beaten him at his own game. It was only a -question of surrender. - -He went up into his office and stood, looking about. The row of plaster -casts confronted him. He took one from the row and examined it. There, -too, was a heart line split up with divergent branches, punctuated with -little islands, beginning at the Mount of Saturn, herring-boned to the -end, at the double crease which signified two marriages. The fingers -were short and fat, the thumb being far too small. Small joints, broad -lines, deep cushions at the Mounts of Venus and Mercury, deep bracelets -at the wrist--Granthope's eyes read the signs as if the hand were a -face, or a whole body. - -As he turned the cast over thoughtfully, to look at the back, it dropped -from his grasp and fell to the floor, breaking into a dozen pieces. -Bits of wire projected humorously from the stump. He smiled. - -"Kismet!" he said to himself. "Adieu, Violet!" - -He was stooping to clear away the fragments when he heard a knock upon -the door. Going to answer it, he found Professor Vixley waiting. - -"Hello, Frank," said the slate-writer. "Can I see you for a few -minutes?" - -"Come in." Granthope drew up a chair, but stood himself with his hands -in his pockets while his visitor made himself comfortable. - -Vixley's shrewd eyes roved about the room and rested upon the broken -cast. "Hello," he said, "cat got into the statuary?" - -"Accident," said the palmist. - -"Plenty more where they come from, I s'pose. Say, Frank, let's see the -Payson girl's hand, will you?" - -"I haven't it." - -"You mean a cast, of course, eh? I expect you've pretty near got the -original, ain't you?" - -"Not yet." Granthope frowned. - -"But soon--" - -Granthope shrugged his shoulders. - -"It was about Payson I wanted to see you," the Professor went on. -"Seems to me you ain't standin' in like you agreed to. Gert claims you -got cold feet on the proposition. I thought I'd drop in and chew it -over." - -Granthope did not answer, and the frown on his forehead persisted. -Vixley took out a cigar and lighted it, threw his match on to the desk, -looked about again, and grinned. "Then you _have_ got cold feet, eh?" -he remarked, crossing his legs. - -Granthope looked the Professor squarely in the eye for a moment. Then -he said deliberately: "Vixley, what will you take to leave town?" - -Vixley showed his astonishment in the stare with which he replied. His -lip drew away from his yellow fangs, and a keen light came into his -black eyes. "Oho! That's the game, is it? Somethin' doin', after all, -eh? Well, well!" He mouthed his cigar meditatively and twirled his -thumbs in his lap. - -"Come, name your price," said Granthope sharply. - -"I'd like a few details first." - -"What's the figure?" - -Vixley was in no hurry, and enjoyed his advantage. "I thought you was up -to something, Frank. Gert's pretty sharp, but Lord, she's only a woman. -You fooled _her_ a bunch. She really thought you'd got a change of -heart. So you want to cut up the money all by your lonely, eh? Well, -now, what'll you give to have me pull out of it?" - -"I'll give you five hundred dollars," said Granthope. - -"Nothin' doin'," said Vixley decidedly. "Why, it's worth more than that -to me just as it stands, and I ain't but just begun. If you can't do -better than that, why, it's no use talkin'." - -"I asked you what you wanted. Let's have it, and I'll talk business." - -"Payson's pretty well fixed," said Vixley. "I s'pose if you marry the -girl you'll get a good wad of his money." - -"Never mind the girl. I want to buy you out." - -"Well, I'd have to think it over. You know we got a great scheme, and -if it works it'll mean a steady income. But I don't mind turnin' over -money quick. You make it a thousand dollars and I'll agree to leave you -alone, and pull off Gert into the bargain. You'll have to fix Masterson -yourself. I don't trust him." - -Granthope began to walk the room again, thinking. He returned finally, -to say: "It won't do merely for you to agree to keep out of it. I know -you too well. This is a business agreement. If I give you a thousand, -will you leave town? That's my offer." - -Vixley reflected. "That ain't so much. I dunno as I could afford to -spoil my whole business for that." - -"Pshaw. You don't make that in a year!" - -"Not last year, perhaps, but I expect to this." - -"Then you refuse?" - -"Wait a minute. Have you got the money on hand?" - -"No, I haven't." Granthope's face clouded. "But I have an idea I might -raise it. I could pay you in instalments. But you'd have to be outside -of California to get it. That's understood." - -Vixley rose. "Well, when you've got the money you can begin to talk. -If you can raise it, as you say, I may agree. After all, I could use a -thou' just at present, and I s'pose I could operate in Chicago till you -let me come back. Say I accept." - -"All right. As soon as I can raise five hundred, I'll see you, and buy -your ticket. Until then, I expect you to leave Payson alone." - -"Will _you_ leave him alone? That's the question! I don't propose to -have no interference until you make good with the money." - -"I'll make good, all right," said Granthope. - -"Very well, then." Vixley rose and buttoned what buttons were left on -his coat. "When you're ready to do business, I'm ready. But you see -here!" He shook a long, bony finger at the palmist. "If you go to work -and try any gum-games with the old man before then, Frank, I'll break -you--like that there hand." He pointed down to the cast on the floor. -Then he added easily: "Not that it would do you any good if you did, -though. I'll attend to _that_. I got to protect myself. It'll be easy -enough to fix it so the old man won't take much stock in what you tell -him." - -"I expect that's so," Granthope shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind -saying that if I thought I could do anything that way, I would." - -"So long, then. The sooner you make your bid, the cheaper it'll be." -He turned from the door and looked the palmist over. "You're a good -one, Frank. I don't deny you got brains. I wouldn't mind knowin' just -what you was up to. It must be something elegant." He came up to -Granthope and gestured with both hands. "Say--why don't you let me in? -We could work it together, and I'll lose Gertie. I ain't no fool, -myself, when it comes right down to business." - -Granthope laughed sarcastically. "I hardly think you can help much in -this. It's a rather delicate proposition, and I'll have to go it alone. -Just as soon as I get the cash I'll let you know." - -For an hour after that Granthope sat in his office thinking it over. -His offer to Vixley had come on the spur of the moment, and, although he -did not regret it, he was at a loss to know how he could make it good. -He went over his accounts carefully, inspected his bank-book, made a -valuation of his property. He could see no way, at present, to raise -sufficient money to buy Vixley off, and yet to sit still and let him go -on with Clytie's father was intolerable. He had seen men ruined by such -wiles, and his own conscience was not clean in this matter. There -seemed no way of escape. - - -Late that afternoon he decided to call on Fancy Gray. He had hardly -seen her since the night she left, and he was troubled in her regard, -also. He. dreaded to know just what she was doing, and how she stood -it. He had long attempted to deny to himself that she cared too much -for him, and always their fiction had been maintained--that fiction -which, during their pretty idyl at Alma, so long ago, had crystallized -itself into their whimsical motto: "No fair falling in love!" He had -kept their pact well enough. He dared not answer for her. - -Fancy lived in a three-story house on O'Farrell, Street, near Jones -Street, a place back from the sidewalk, with a garden in front and on -one side. Fancy had a room on the attic floor, with two dormer windows -giving upon the front yard. As Granthope turned in the gate and looked -up at her windows, he was surprised to see one of them raised. Fancy's -arm appeared, a straw hat in her hand. The next instant the hat sailed -gracefully out into the air, curving like an aeroplane. It dropped -nearly at his feet. He picked it up, thinking that she would look out -after it, but instead, the sash was lowered. - -A minute afterward a young man, bareheaded, and apparently violently -enraged, appeared at the front door. Granthope walked up and presented -the hat to Mr. Gay P. Summer, who took it, staring, without a word of -thanks, and stalked sulkily away. - -The door being left open, Granthope walked up three flights of stairs -and knocked at Fancy's room. There was no reply. He called to her. The -door was instantly flung open. - -"Why, hello, Frank! Excuse me. I thought it was my meal-ticket coming -back to bore me to death again." Fancy began to laugh. "You ought to -have seen him. He simply wouldn't go, after I'd given him twenty-three -gilt-edged tips, and so I had to throw his hat out of the window to get -rid of him." - -"I saw him. I think he won't come back. He looked rather -uncomfortable." - -Fancy sat down on the bed unconcernedly, clasping her hands on her -crossed knees, while Granthope took a seat upon a trunk. - -"Say, Frank, these people who expect to annex all your time and pay for -it in fifty cent _table d'hotes_ are beginning to make me tired. -There's nothing so expensive as free dinners, I've found! The minute -you let a man buy you a couple of eggs, he thinks he's in a position to -dictate to you for the rest of eternity. Why, one dinner means he's -hired you till eleven o'clock, and I run out of excuses long before -that. No, you don't get anything free in this world, and many a girl's -found _that_ out!" - -Granthope smiled. Fancy was at her prettiest, with a whimsical -animation that he knew of old. Nothing delighted him so much as Fancy -in her semi-philosophic vein. - -She ran on: "Gay has just proposed to me again--I've lost tally, now. -The one good thing about him is that he's always ready to make good with -the ring whenever I say the word. He takes me seriously just because I -never explain. But all the encouragement I've ever given him is to -accept. Gay's the kind that always calls you 'Little girl,' no matter -how high you are, and tells you you're 'brave'! There's no one quite -like you, Frank--" - -As she spoke, her gaiety slowly oozed away, till she sat almost -plaintively watching him. Then she smiled and shook her head slowly. -"Don't get frightened, I won't do anything foolish." She sprang up and -tossed her head. Then, turning to him, she said: "Say, Frank, do you -know Blanchard Cayley?" - -"Why, I've just heard of him, that's all. He's a friend of Miss -Payson's." - -"She isn't--fond of him, is she?" Fancy demanded. - -"Oh, I hope not! Why?" - -"Nothing. Only, I met him, one night, at Carminetti's. Gay had just -thrown me down hard. He came round, afterward, and apologized." Fancy -looked across the room abstractedly as she talked. Upon the wall were -strung a collection of empty chianti bottles in their basket-work -shells, a caricature by Maxim, a circus poster and other evidence of her -recent conversion to the artistic life. She spoke with a queer -introspective manner. "I had a queer feeling about Mr. Cayley. You -know, for all I'm such a scatterbrain, I do like a man with a mind. I -like to look up to a man. He's awfully well-read. Of course, he isn't -as clever as you, but he sort of fascinates me--I don't know why. He -interests me, although I can't understand half he says. I suppose he -makes me forget. There's nothing like knowing how to forget. But -you're sure Miss Payson isn't too fond of him?" - -"I'd like to be surer," said Granthope. He, too, was looking fixedly -across the room--at the mottoes and texts upon the wall, on the mantel, -and over her bed--"Do it Now!" "Nothing Succeeds like Success"--and such -platitudes as, printed in red and black, are sold at bookshops for the -moral education of those unable to think for themselves. - -Fancy slid gently off the bed, and dropped to the floor in front of him. -Her hand stole fondly for his, and clasped it, petting it. - -"How is she, Frank?" - -He put his hand on her hair and smoothed it affectionately. "Fine, -Fancy, fine." - -"Oh--I hope it's all right, Frank." - -"I don't know, Fancy. You'd hardly recognize me, these days. I'm -losing my sense of humor. I'm becoming a prig, I think." - -Fancy laughed. "Well, there's plenty of room in that direction. But I -don't think she'd mind your being a devil occasionally. Women don't -have to be saints to be thoroughbreds. And there's many a saint that -would like to take a day off, once in a while!" - -"Have you seen Vixley, lately?" - -Fancy grew serious. "No. Is he still working the old man?" - -"Yes, I suppose so. I saw him to-day. I offered him a thousand dollars -to leave town, Fancy." - -Fancy looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. "Why, Frank! What do -you mean? A thousand dollars? Why, you haven't got that much, have -you?" - -"No. Not yet. But I'll get it, somehow." - -"You mean--that you're trying--to save Payson--on her account, Frank?" - -He avoided her glance. "On her account--and perhaps my own." - -Fancy rose impulsively and put her arms about him. "Do let me hug you, -Frank, just once!" - -He saw her eyes grow soft. She released herself quickly, as if the -embrace, simple as it was, hurt her. She stood in front of him and -watched him soberly. - -"Frank, _I_ never could make you--" She stopped, the tears welling in -her eyes. Then she turned and ran out of the room. - -He rose, too, and paced up and down, wondering at her mood. His track -was short, for the roof sloped on one side, and the place was encumbered -with Fancy's paraphernalia and furniture. His eyes fell, after a while, -upon a cigar box on her bureau. It stood upright, under the mirror, and -had little doors, glued on with paper hinges, so that the two opened, -like the front of a Japanese shrine of Buddha. He went to it and looked -at it. Thoughtlessly, with no idea of committing an indiscretion, -little suspecting that it could hold anything private or sacred, he -swung the little doors open. Then he shut them hastily and walked to -the window with a clutch at his heart. Inside he had seen his own -photograph. Before it was a little glass jar with a few violets. They -were fresh, fragrant. Lettered upon a strip of paper pasted on the -inside was the inscription: - - No Fair Falling In Love. - - -He walked away hurriedly to stare hard out of the window. - -She came into the room again as he composed himself, and her face, newly -washed, was radiant. She reseated herself upon the bed, and, taking up -a pair of stockings, proceeded to darn a small hole in the heel. - -"Have you got a position, Fancy?" - -She laughed. "Vixley wrote me a note and told me he had a job for me if -I wanted it, but I turned him down. You couldn't guess what I _am_ -doing, Frank." - -"What?" - -"Detective." She looked up innocently. - -"You don't mean--" - -"No! Just little jobs for the chief of police, that's all. I'm -investigating doctors who practise without a license, that's all. I -say, Masterson had better look out or he'll get pulled." - -"I'm sorry you haven't anything better, Fancy. Miss Payson said she'd -get you a place in her father's office if you'd go. Would you?" - -"No." Fancy's eyes were upon her needle. - -"Why not?" - -"Frank," she said, "do you remember asking me to inquire about that -soldier the little girl with freckles wanted to find?" - -"Yes. I thought you said that the ticket agent at the ferry had left, -and so you couldn't get anything." - -"He was only off on a vacation. He's come back, and I saw him -yesterday. He remembered that soldier perfectly--I don't see how -anybody could fail to--he must look awful. He said he bought a ticket -for Santa Barbara." - -"That's good. I hope she'll come in again," said Granthope. "She was a -nice little thing." - -"She was real, Frank, and that's what few people are, nowadays." - -He looked at her for a minute. "There's no doubt that you are, Fancy." - -"I wish I were. I'm only a drifter, Frank." She kept on with her -darning, not looking up. - -"Fancy, I want to do something for you. Won't you let me help you?" - -"I'm all right, Frank. I told you I wanted to have some fun before I -settled down again. But if I ever do need anything, I'll let you know." - -"Promise me that--that whenever you want me, you'll send for me, or come -to me, Fancy!" - -She looked up into his eyes frankly. "I promise, Frank. When I need -you, I'll come." - -She was a blither spirit after that, till he took his leave. It had -been an eventful day for Francis Granthope. He had swung round almost -the whole circle of emotions. But not quite. - - - - - *CHAPTER XI* - - *THE FIRST TURNING TO THE LEFT* - - -At five o'clock the next afternoon Blanchard Cayley sitting at a window -of his club, opening the letters which he had just taken from his box in -the office. He had his hat on, a trait which always aroused the ire of -the older members. Beside him, upon a small table, was a glass of -"orange squeeze," which he sipped at intervals. - -At this hour there were some twenty members in the large room reading, -talking or playing dominoes. Others came in and went out occasionally, -and of these more than half approached Cayley to say effusively: "Hello, -old man, how goes it?" or some such similarly luminous remark. This was -as offensive to Cayley as the wearing of his hat in the club was to the -old men. Nothing annoyed him so much as to be interrupted while reading -his letters. Yet he always looked up with a smile, and replied: - -"Oh, so-so--what's the news?" - -To be sure, Cayley's mail to-day was not so important that these -hindrances much mattered. The study of Esperanto was his latest fad. -With several Misses, Frauleins and Mademoiselles on the official list of -the "Esperantistoj," and whom he suspected of being young and beautiful, -he had begun a systematic correspondence. The greater part of the -answers he received were dull and innocuous, written on picture -post-cards. From Odessa, from Siberia, Rio de Janeiro, Cambodia, -Moldavia and New Zealand such missives came. Those which were merely -perfunctory, or showed but a desire to obtain a San Francisco post-card -for a growing collection, he threw into the waste-basket. Others, whose -originality promised a flirtation more affording, he answered -ingeniously. - -A man suddenly slapped him on the shoulder. - -"Hello, Blanchard, have a game of dominoes?" - -"No, thanks." - -"Come and have a drink, then." - -"No, thanks, I'm on the wagon now." - -"Go to the devil." - -"Same to you." - -The man grinned and dropped into a big chair opposite Cayley and lighted -a cigar. Then his glance wandered out of the window. Cayley put the -bunch of letters in his pocket and yawned. - -"By Jove, there's a peach over there," said the man. Cayley turned and -looked. - -"In front of the shoe store. See?" - -She was standing, looking idly into the show window--a figure in gray -and red. Scarlet cuffs, scarlet collar, scarlet silk gloves. Her form -was trim and her carriage jaunty. - -It was Fancy Gray--drifting. She stood, hesitating, and shot a glance -up to the second story of the club house where the men sat. She caught -Cayley's eye and smiled, showing her white teeth. Her eyebrows went up. -Then she turned down the street and walked slowly away. - -"Say," said the man, "was that for you or for me, Blan?" - -"I expect it must have been for me. Good day." - -"Something doing? Well, good luck!" - -Cayley walked briskly out of the room, got his hat, and ran down the -front steps. Fancy was already half a block ahead of him, nearing -Kearney Street. He caught up with her before she turned the corner. - -"I've been looking for you for three weeks," he began. - -She paused and gave him a saucy smile. "You ought to be treated for -it," was her somewhat elliptical reply. - -"I'm afraid I am pretty slow, but I've got you now. It seems to me -you're looking pretty nimble." - -"Really? I hope I'll do." - -"Fancy Gray, you'll indubitably do. Won't you come to dinner with me -somewhere, where we can talk?" - -"I accept," said Fancy Gray. - -"Are you still with Granthope?" - -She hesitated for a second before replying. "No, I left last week." - -"What's the row?" - -"Oh, nothing, I got tired of it." - -"That's not true," he said, looking into her eyes, which had dimmed. - -"Cut it out then, I don't care to talk about it." - -"I bet he didn't treat you square. He's too much of a bounder." - -At this her face flamed and she stopped suddenly on the sidewalk, -drawing herself away from him. "Don't," she pleaded, "don't, please, or -I can't go with you--" - -He saw now what was in her eyes and put his hand into her arm again. -"Come along, little girl, I won't worry you," he said gently. And they -walked on. - -She recovered her spirits in a few moments, but the sparkling of her -talk was like the waves on the surface of an invisible current sweeping -her toward him. It was too evident for him, used as he was to women, not -to notice it. She was a little embarrassed, and such self-consciousness -sat strangely on her face. Behind that flashing smile and the quick -glances of her eye something slumbered, an emotion alien to such -debonair moods as was her wont to express, and as foreign to the deeper -secret feelings she concealed. Her eyes had darkened to a deeper brown, -the iris almost as dark as the pupils. Cayley did, as she had said, -fascinate her. Whether the charm was most physical or mental it would -be hard to say, but her demeanor showed that it partook of both -elements. She gave herself up to it. - -He began to play upon her. He took her arm affectionately, and the tips -of his fingers rested upon the little, cool circle of her wrist above -her gloves. She did not remove his hand. His eyes sought hers again -and again, vanquishing them with his meaning glances. Her pulse beat -faster. She talked excitedly. A soft wave of color swept up from her -neck. - -"Suppose we dine at the 'Poodle Dog'?" he suggested. - -"I'm game," she replied; "I like a quiet place where there's no music." - -"We can get a room up-stairs where we won't be interrupted." - -"Anywhere for mine. I've got a blue bean and I'd like to be cheered -up." - -She was cheered up to an unwonted pitch by the time the dinner was over. -As she sat, flushed, mettlesome with wine, thrilling to his advances, he -plied her artfully, and she responded with less and less discretion. -She could not conceal her impulse towards him. - -"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked, her eyes burning. - -"Indeed you are--you're beautiful!" he said, his hand resting on hers. - -"But I don't want to be beautiful--that's what you are when you're queer -and woozly--like the girls Maxim paints," she pouted. "They're awful -frights--they're never pretty. I want to be just pretty, not handsome -or good-looking or anything apologetic like that--that's what men call a -girl when she can't make good with her profile. You've got to tell me -I'm pretty, Blan, or I won't be satisfied." - -"You certainly are pretty," he laughed, as he filled her glass. - -"That makes me almost happy again," she mused. "Let's forget everything -and everybody else in the world. It's funny how I've been thinking -about you and wondering if I'd ever see you again. I had a good mind to -put a personal in the _Chronicle_. It seemed to me as if I simply had -to see you, all this week. Wasn't it funny at Carminetti's? I guess I -was struck by lightning that time. You certainly did wireless me. It's -fierce to own up to it, Blan, but I like you. I've stood men off ever -since I was old enough to know what they wanted, but you've got me -hypnotized. How did you do it?" She laughed restlessly. - -"Why, if I hadn't thought you were a little too thick with Granthope, I -would have looked you up before." - -"I haven't been there for a week. The wide, wide world for mine, now." - -"That's pretty tough, to fire you after you'd been with him for two -years, isn't it?" - -"I don't want to talk about that, really, Blan; it's all right." - -He poured out another glass of champagne for her and she drank it -excitedly. Cayley still caressed her free hand, but his eyes were not -upon her; he was thinking intently. She took his head in her two hands -and turned it gently in her direction. - -"There! _That's_ where you want to look. Here is Fancy, Blan, right -here." - -"I see you. I was only thinking--do you know, you look like the -pictures of Cleopatra?" he suggested. "Did you ever hear of Cleopatra, -Fancy?" - -She laughed. "I guess I ought to--I played Cleopatra once." - -"Did you really--where?--comic opera or vaudeville?" - -"Oh, never mind where--I made a hit all right." She leaned back in her -chair, clasping her hands behind her head, smiling to herself. A tress -of hair had fallen across her ear; it did not mar her beauty. - -"I'll bet you got every hand in the house, too." - -Fancy became suddenly convulsed with giggles. She sipped her glass and -choked as she tried to swallow the wine. - -Cayley passed this mysterious mirth without comment. "Granthope looks as -if he had been an actor, too." - -"Oh, yes, we played together--but only as amateurs." She smiled -mischievously. - -Cayley followed her up. "He has a fine presence; I should think he'd be -good at it. He has lots of women running after him, hasn't he?" - -"Oh, he did have--women to throw at the birds--women to warm up for -supper--women to burn, and he burned 'em, too. But he won't stand for -them now," said Fancy. - -"What's the matter? Is he stung?" He filled her glass again. - -"Yep. He's cut 'em all out--even me. That's why I'm here." - -"But he works them, though?" - -"Oh, no, Blan, Frank's straight, sure he is. He doesn't graft any more. -He hasn't for--some time." - -"I don't believe that," said Cayley. - -"Oh, of course, he investigates cases sometimes, but he don't work with -cappers the way he did. He's going in for high society now, and he -doesn't need to do anything but wear a swallow-tail and get up on his -hind legs and drink tea." - -Blanchard took a chance shot. "I hear he's trying to marry a rich -girl." - -Fancy, for the first time, seemed to come to herself. She looked hard at -Cayley.' "What are you driving at, Blan? What do you want to talk about -that for? It's all off between me and Frank, but I'm not going to knock -him. He's all right, Frank is. I'd rather talk about Me, please! Talk -about Fancy, Blan, won't you? Fancy's so tired of talking shop." - -Her elbow was upon the table and her little round chin in her palm, as -she looked at him under drooping, languorous lids. "How pretty am I, -Blan? Tell me! There's nothing quite so satisfactory, after a good -dinner, as to hear how pretty you are." - -He looked quizzically at her, and quoted: "'_Tout repas est exquis qui a -un baiser pour dessert_.'" - -"What does that mean, Blan? I don't understand Dago talk." - -"It means that you're pretty enough to eat, and I'm going to eat you," -he replied, making a motion toward her. - -She put him off gaily, but only as if to delay the situation. "Oh, -pshaw! haven't you had enough to eat yet? That won't go with me, Blan; -I've got to have real eighteen carat flattery put on with a knife. I can -stand any amount of it. I love it! Whether you mean it or not--I don't -care, so long as it sounds nice, I'll believe it. I'll believe anything -to-night. Now, how do you like my eyes, Blan?" - -He took a long, close look at them, then with an amused smile he said: -"Mountain lakes at sunset shot with refracted fires. Or, electric light -on champagne--will that do?" - -Fancy pouted. "I knew a fellow once who told me they were just like the -color of stones in the bed of the brook ... When I was up at Piedra -Pinta, I looked in a shallow part of the creek--where I could see my -reflection and the bottom at the same time..." Her voice died off in a -dreamy monotone; then she looked up at him again sleepily. - -"How about my nose?" - -"_Thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh toward Damascus_," -he quoted. - -"Whatever does that mean?" She opened her eyes as wide as she could. -"Is my poor old nose as big as that?" She felt of it solemnly. - -"It is straight and strong and full of character. And _Thy lips are like -a thread of scarlet, ... thy teeth are like a flock of sheep ... which -come up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins_." - -"That's _very_ swell, indeed," said Fancy, "is it original?" - -He laughed. "No. It's from one of the oldest poems in the world." - -"I'd like to read that book." Fancy was getting drowsy. "Tell me some -more." - -"_Thine head upon thee is like Carmel..._" - -"I'm glad we're getting into California at last." - -"_And the hair of thine head like purple;--_" - -She shook her head, "Oh, no, don't call it purple, please. Frank says -it's Romanesque." - -"_Thy neck is as a tower of ivory._" - -"That's the _second_ tower," said Fancy, closing her eyes, "I guess -that'll be about all for the towers. I think I'd rather have you make -it up as you go along. It's more complimentary." She laid her head upon -her arms on the table. "My ears are really something fierce, aren't -they?" - -Cayley touched them in investigation. "They're a bit too small, of -course, and they're very pink, but they're like rosy sea-shells touched -by the dawn." - -Fancy murmured softly: "'She sells sea-shells. She shells -sea-shells--She shells she shells'--say, I'm getting woozly." - -She roused herself to laugh softly; her head drooped again. - -"Then I'll let you kiss them--once!" she whispered. - -"I'm afraid I talked too much last night," she said to him the next -evening. "I hope I didn't say anything, did if I didn't quite know what -I was doing. Funny how the red stuff throws you down!" - -"Oh, no, you didn't give anything away. You're pretty safe, for a -woman." - -"Coffee's what makes _me_ talk," she said, "if you ever want to make me -loosen up, try about four small blacks and I'll use up the dictionary." - -He saw her nearly every day after that, but, even with the aid of -coffee, he was unsuccessful in his attempts to make her more -communicative. At the mention of Granthope's name she froze into -silence or changed the subject. - -A few days after the dinner he invited her across the bay to Tiburon -where Sully Maxwell had given him the use of one of the dozen or more -house-boats anchored in the little harbor. Fancy was delighted at the -prospect of a day with him, and early on Sunday morning she was ready at -the ferry. As she waited with her basket of provisions, saucily and -picturesquely dressed in a cheap outing costume of linen, Dougal and -Elsie came up to her. - -"Hello, Queen," Dougal cried, and he shook both her hands heartily, his -round gargoyle face illuminated with cordiality. "Where have you been -all this time? We'll have to try you for desertion. You haven't -abdicated, have you? We've been wanting to find you and have you go up -to Piedra Pinta with us. The bunch is all up there now; Elsie and I -were only just able to get off. Can't you come along with us?" - -"Oh, do!" Elsie pleaded, putting her arm about Fancy's slender waist. - -"No, I'm sorry, but I can't, really; I'm going to Tiburon with Blanchard -Cayley." - -Dougal's face clouded. "Say, what do you want to run with that lobster -for? You're altogether too good for him." - -"I guess I'm in love with him," said Fancy, still holding Dougal's hand -and looking up into his face with a quaint expression. - -"You _aren't_!" they chorused. - -"Oh, I am, I am; I'm sure I am!" she repeated insistently. "I've liked -him ever since the first time I saw him. What's the use of pretending? -Don't say anything against him, please. I'm so happy--I'm _perfectly_ -happy, Dougal." The tears came to her eyes. - -"I know what'll happen," Dougal said, his pale eyebrows drawn together. -"He'll play with you for a while, and then he'll throw you down hard as -soon as he's through with you, or another girl comes along." - -"Then I hope she won't show up for a good while," said Fancy cavalierly. - -"And when it's over?" said Elsie. - -Fancy dropped her eyes. "When it's over--I don't know." She looked up. -"When it's over I suppose I'll sell apples on Market Street. What else -will there be for me to do?" - -"Oh, don't; you frighten me," Elsie cried; "we're all so fond of you, -Fancy. Remember, we're your friends, and we'd do anything to help you." - -Fancy stooped down and kissed her. "Don't worry. Elsie, I'm pretty -lively yet. Only you know I don't do things by halves. I suppose I -take it rather seriously." - -Elsie stared at her. "You're so different." - -"Oh, Fancy'll get over this. She got over Granthope all right, and she -got over Gay Summer." - -The tears surged into Fancy's eyes again. "Don't say that, Dougal. I'm -no quitter. I don't get over things. I may bury them and cake-walk -over their graves, but I don't forget my friends." - -He grinned jovially and wrung her hand till she winced, then he slapped -her on the back. "Well, you know where we are when you want us. We're -with you for keeps; you can't lose us, Fancy, remember that." - -Fancy squeezed his big hairy hand. - -Elsie added, "But you'll be awfully talked about. Fancy, do be careful." - -"Will I?" said Fancy. "I don't care. If I like Blan and he likes me, I -don't care who knows it." - -"Are you going to marry him?" Elsie ventured. - -"He hasn't said anything about it--yet--but I'm not thinking of that. -All I want is for somebody to love me. I'll be satisfied with that." - -"You're all right, Fancy; only I hope you're not in for a broken heart," -said Dougal. - -"Just imagine Fancy with a broken heart!" Elsie laughed. - -"Oh, you don't believe me, but you will sometime." - -Fancy's eyes were not for them all this while. She was watching the -passengers approaching the ferry, her glance darting from one to the -other, scanning the cable-cars which drew up at the terminus, questing -up toward Market Street, and along the sidewalks and crossings. - -"Have you left Granthope?" Dougal inquired. - -"Yep." Fancy, as usual, did not explain. - -"Why didn't you let us know where you were, then?" he complained. "I -was up to the place the other day looking for you, and no one seemed to -know where you were." - -Fancy, still watching for Cayley, did not answer. - -"Have you got any money, Fancy?" - -"Sure!" she answered eagerly. "I have two dollars here--do you want -it?" - -"Oh, no!" he laughed. "I was going to offer you some. If you're out of -a job you must need it. I can let you have twenty or so easy." He put -his hand into his pocket. - -She hesitated for a moment, then she said: - -"I don't know but I could use it, Dougal, if you can spare it as well as -not." - -"I'm flush this week." He handed her a gold double eagle. - -"Granthope will lend me all I want, or I could get it from Blanchard, -but somehow I hate to take it from them. Of course, it's all right, and -they have plenty, but I'd feel better borrowing of you, you know." - -"That's the best thing you've said yet," he said, beaming on her. - -"Oh, Dougal, tell her about the seance," said Elsie, as Fancy put the -money in her purse. - -"Oh, yes! I wanted to see you about a materializing seance, Fancy. Do -you know of a good one? We want to go some night and see the spooks. -The bunch is going to have some fun with them." - -"You want to look out for yourself, then. They always have two or three -bouncers, and they'll throw you out if there's any row, you know." - -Dougal grinned happily. "That's just what we want. I haven't had a -good scrap for months. Maxim can handle three or four of them alone, -while Benton, Starr and I raise a rough house. We're going to go early -and get front seats." - -It was Fancy's turn to laugh. "You can't do it, Dougal. You don't know -the first rules of the game. They always have their own crowd on the -first two rows, and they won't let you get near the spirits. They only -want believers, anyway. If you aren't careful, they won't let you in at -all; they'll say all the seats are taken. You'd better go separately -and sit in different parts of the room, and spot the bouncers if you -can." - -"Oh, we'll handle them all right. Where's a good one?" - -Fancy reflected a minute. "I think, perhaps, Flora Flint is the best. -She's a clever actress, and she always has a crowd. It's fifty cents. -Her place is on Van Ness Avenue--I think her seances are on Wednesday -evenings--you'll find the notice in the papers. But they're pretty -smooth; they've had people try to break up the show before. If you try -to turn on the light or grab any ghost, look out you don't get beaten -up." - -"Oh, you can trust us; we've got a new game," he answered. - -Then, as the Sausalito boat was about to leave, they bade Fancy a -hurried farewell and ran for the entrance to the slip. A few minutes -after this Blanchard Cayley appeared, put his arm through hers, and they -went on board the ferry. - -The harbor of Tiburon, in the northern part of San Francisco Bay, is -sheltered on the west by the promontory of Belvedere, where pretty -cottages climb the wooded slopes, and on the south by Angel Island, with -its army barracks, hospital and prison. Here was huddled a little fleet -of house-boats or "arks," the farthest outshore of which belonged to -Sully Maxwell. - -It was a queer collection of architectural amphibia, these nautical -houses floating in the bay. They were of all sizes, some seemingly too -small to stretch one's legs in without kicking down a wall, others more -ambitious in size, with double decks and roof-gardens. There were all -grades and quality as well; some even had electric lights and telephone -wires laid to the shore. Here, free from rent, taxes or insurance, the -little summer colony dwelt, and the rowboats of butcher, baker and -grocer plied from one to another. It was late in the season now, -however, and only a few were occupied. A little later, when the rains -had set in, they would all be towed into their winter quarters to -hibernate till spring. - -Cayley conducted Fancy Gray down to the end of a wharf where the skiff -was moored, in the care of a boatman, and after loading the provisions -and supplies he had purchased at the little French restaurant by the -station, he rowed her out to the _Edyth_. - -The bay was cloudless and without fog. The September sun poured over -the water and sparkled from every tiny wave-top, the breeze was a -gentle, easterly zephyr. Cayley seemed younger in the open air, and all -that was best in him came to the surface. He was almost enthusiastic. -Fancy was in high feather. As she sat in the stern of the skiff and -trailed her hand in the salt water, he watched her with almost as much -pride as had Gay P. Summer. - -She climbed rapturously aboard, unlocked the front room and filled it -with her gleeful exclamations of delight. Then she popped into the tiny -kitchen and gazed curiously at the neat, shining collection of -cooking-utensils and the gasoline stove. She danced out again, to -circle round the narrow railed deck. Finally she pulled a steamer chair -to the front porch and flopped into it. - -"I'm never going to leave this place," she cried. "It's just like -having a deserted island all to yourself. I feel like a new-laid bride. -Let's hoist a white flag." - -Cayley, meanwhile, put the provisions on the kitchen table and came out -to be deliciously idle with her--but she could not rest. She was up and -about like a bee, humming a gay tune. She went into the square, white -sitting-room to inspect everything that was there, commenting on each -object. She sat in every chair and upon the table as well. She tried a -little wheezy melodeon with a snatch of rag-time. She criticized every -picture, she cleaned the mirror with her handkerchief, then went out to -wash it in salt water and hang it on a line to dry. She read aloud the -titles of all the books, she opened and shut drawers, and peeped into a -little state-room with bunks and was lost there for five minutes. When -she came out again, her copper hair was braided down her back and she -had on a white ruffled apron. - -"I'm going to cook dinner," she announced. - -Cayley smiled at her enthusiasm. "I don't believe you can do it." - -She insisted, and he followed her into the kitchen to watch her -struggles. She succeeded in setting the table without breaking more -than one plate, and then she filled the tea-kettle with fresh water from -the demi-john. After that she looked helplessly at Cayley. - -"How do you shell these tins?" - -"With a can-opener." - -She tried for a few moments, biting her lip and pinching her finger in -the attempt. Then she turned to him coaxingly. - -"You do it, Blan, please." - -He had it open in a minute. She unwrapped the steak, put it into a -frying-pan, unbuttered, and began to struggle with the stove. After she -had lighted a match timidly, she said: - -"I'm awfully afraid it'll explode." - -He took her in his arms and lifted her to the table, where she sat -swinging her legs, her hands in her apron pockets. - -"Confess you don't know a blessed thing about housework or cooking!" - -"Of course I don't. What do you take me for? I've lived in restaurants -and boarding-houses all my life--how should I know? But I thought it -was easier than it seems to be. I suppose you have to have a knack for -it." - -"I'll show you." He took the apron from her, tying it about his own -waist. With the grace of a chef he set about the preparations for -dinner. He lighted the stove, he put potatoes in the oven to roast, he -heated a tin of soup, washed the lettuce, broiled the steak, cut the -cranberry pie and made a pot full of coffee. - -They sat down at the table with gusto and made short work of the -refreshments. Fancy was a little disappointed that they couldn't drop a -line over the side of the boat and fry fish while they were fresh and -wriggling, but she ate her share, nevertheless. She drank cup after cup -of coffee and took a cigarette or two, sitting in blissful content, -listening to the _cluck-cluck_ of water plashing lazily against the -sides of the boat. While they were there still lingering at the table, -the ferry-boat passed them. The ark careened on the swell of the wake, -rising and falling, till the water was spilled from the glasses, and the -dishes lurched this way and that. Fancy screamed with delight at the -motion. For some minutes the hanging lamp above their heads swung -slowly to and fro. - -All that sunny, breezy afternoon she sat happily, chattering on the -front platform, watching the yachts that passed out into the lower bay, -the heavily laden ferry-boat that rocked them deliciously in its heaving -wake, and the rowboats full of Sunday excursionists, who hailed them -with slangy banter. She watched the little red-tiled cottages at -Belvedere. She watched the holiday couples walk the Tiburon beach, past -the wreck of the _Tropic Bird_, now transformed into a summer home. She -watched the mauve shadow deepen over Mount Tamalpais and the gray city -of San Francisco looming to the south in a pearly haze. She was -drenched by the salt air and burned by the sunshine; a permanent glow -came to her cheeks, her brown eyes grew wistful. She talked -incessantly. - -Cayley amused her all day with his jests and stories. That he was too -subtle for her did not matter. She listened as attentively to his -explanations of the set forms of Japanese verse as she did to his -mechanical love-making. Cayley was not of the impetuous, hot-blooded -type--he preferred the snare to the arrow--his was the wile of the -serpent that charms the bird and makes it approach, falteringly, step by -step, to fall into his power; but his system, if mathematically -accurate, was also artistic. Fancy's devotion to him was -undisguised--he did not need his art. It was she who was spontaneous, -frank and affectionate. He only added a few flourishes. - -"Do you love me, Blan?" she asked, warming to him as the sun went down. - -"Why, of course I do; haven't I been apodictically adoring you?" - -She looked at him, bewildered. "I thought there was something queer -about it; perhaps that's it. But you haven't called me 'dear' once." - -"But I've called you 'Nepenthe' and 'Chloe'." He looked down at her -patronizingly. - -"'Darling' is good enough for me--I guess I like the old-fashioned words -best, dear," she whispered shyly. - -He quoted: - - "Some to the fascination of a name - Surrender judgment hoodwinked," - -and laughed to himself at the appositeness of Cowper's lines. - -"Oh, yes, you know some lovely poetry, Blan, but I'm afraid I'm not -poetical. I like the things they say in songs,--things I can -understand. I'd rather hear slang--" - -"'The illegitimate sister of poetry--'" - -She looked up at him blankly. Then she sighed and turned her eyes off -to the darkling water. - -"No one ever made love to suit me, somehow--men are queer--they're so -blind--they seem to know so little about the things that mean a lot to a -woman." She shivered. "It's getting chilly, isn't it. I'm cold." - -"Shall I get you a wrap?" - -She took his arm and placed it about her shoulder. "That'll do," she -said. - -"Fancy, you are adorable--you're absolutely complete. You're -unique--you're a nonpareille!" - -"I'd rather be a peach," she confessed, snuggling closer. - -"You are, Fancy--a clingstone! I'd like to kiss you to death." - -"Now, _that's_ the stuff!" - -"I'm sorry you don't appreciate my compliments," he remarked, after this -little episode. - -"I'm afraid I don't. I'm sorry I'm not intellectual, Blan, but I'd -rather have you call me a 'damn fool' if you said it lovingly, than have -you say pretty things I can't understand." - -"All right, then, you're a damn fool!" - -She laughed happily. "Thank you, Blan, dear, that was nice! I believe -you're improving." - -"Oh, if you prefer Anglo-Saxon, I'll call you a piece, a jade, baggage, -harridan, hussy, minx--" - -"Yes, but you must put 'dear' at the end, you know, to show that you're -not in earnest." - -"I'll try to remember." - -Fancy went on: - -"It's wonderful to be out here, all alone with you on the water, cut off -from everything. It satisfies me gorgeously--it's like the taste of -ice-cream to a hungry little kid. I remember how I used to long for it. -I was awfully poor and lonely once. I believe I'm happy now. What do -you think it is, Blan, you or the coffee? Don't you want to hold my -hand? Let's just sit here and forget things--but I haven't very much to -forget, have I? I'd like to read books and know some of the things you -do--but it's too late now--I guess I'll always be ign'ant." - -"Oh, I'll teach you all the things you want to know," he said -condescendingly. "You're good material and you'd learn quickly. I -could make a wonder out of you with a little training. I'll give you -lessons if you like." - -"I accept," said Fancy Gray. - -Then she added: - -"I don't expect you'll love me very long, Blan, but you must make up for -it by loving me as much as you can. That's where I can teach you. Men -aren't faithful like women are--I'm glad I'm a woman, Blan." - -"I'm glad you are," he echoed. - -The night fell, and they began reluctantly to make preparations for -their departure. While Cayley was busy in the kitchen, packing up a -basket to be returned, Fancy went into the little white state-room to do -her hair and put on her wrap. - -As she came out she noticed a little card-tray in the corner of the -living-room, and idly turned the names over, one by one. Of a sudden -her hand fell, and her eyes were fixed intently upon a card that had -just come into sight. It bore the legend: - - MR. FRANCIS GRANTHOPE - - -She threw herself upon the couch by the window and broke into sobs. - -"Say, Fancy! It's after seven o'clock," Cayley called to her from the -kitchen. - -She stumbled to her feet and went out on deck, dipped her handkerchief -in the salt water and bathed her eyes. Cayley came out just as she -finished. It was too dark, now, to notice her expression. - -They took the rowboat which had been nuzzling alongside the flank of the -ark all day, made for the shore and went aboard the steamer. - -It was crowded with Sunday picnickers, who came trooping on in groups, -singing, the girls flushed and sunburned with hair distraught and dusty -shoes; the men in jovial, uncouth disarray in canvas and in corduroy, -like tramps and vagabonds, laden with ferns and flowers. Hunters, with -guns and dogs, tramped aboard; fishermen, with rods and baskets; tired -families, lagging, whining, came in weary procession. Both decks of the -boat were crowded. A brass band struck up a popular air. The -restaurant, the bar and the bootblack stand all did a great business. - -Cayley and Fancy Gray went to the upper deck for a last draft of the -summer breeze. As they sat there, talking little, watching the throng -of uneasy passengers, Fancy called his attention to a couple sitting -opposite. - -It was a strangely assorted pair, the girl and the man. She was about -twenty years of age, with a pretty, earnest, freckled face and a modest -air. She was talking happily, with undisguised fondness, to the young -man beside her. His face was hideous, without a nose. In its place was -a livid scar and a depression perforated by nostrils that made his -appearance malign. He wore nothing to conceal the mutilation, shocking -as it was. His manner toward the girl was that of a lover, devoted and -tender. - -"Did you ever see anything so awful?" said Fancy. "And isn't she -terribly in love with him though! I know who she is; her name is -Fleurette Heller. She came into Granthope's studio once and I took a -great liking to her. Frank told her that her love affair would come out -all right, and she'd be happier than she ever was in her life before." - -"I don't see how she can endure that object," said Cayley. - -"Don't you?" said Fancy, "that's because you don't know women. She's in -love with him. I understand it perfectly. I wouldn't care a bit how he -looked." - -She nodded, as she spoke, to a man who passed just then. He was -dark-skinned, with a pointed beard. He gave her a quick jerk of the head -and grinned, showing a line of yellow teeth, and his glance jumped with -the rapidity of machinery from her face to Cayley's, and away again. He -walked on, his hands behind his back against a coat so faded and shiny -as to glow purple as a plum. - -Fancy's eyes followed him. "That's Vixley," she said. - -Cayley's look turned from a pretty blonde across the way and he became -immediately attentive. "Who's Vixley?" - -"Why, Professor Vixley, the slate-writer, you know." - -"Oh, yes--he's a medium, is he? What sort is he?" - -She shook her head. "Wolf! He makes me sick. I'm afraid of him, too. -He's out after Granthope with a knife, and I'm afraid he'll do for him -some day. Frank ought never to have stood in with him, but you know he -used to live with a friend of this man's when he was little, and they've -got a hold on him he can't break very well." - -"They know things about him?" - -"Yes, in a way. Before he braced up. He's square now, and he's trying -to shake that bunch. Poor old Frank!" - -Cayley pulled at his mustache. "I wish I had noticed Vixley." - -"Why?" - -"Oh, I'd like to see him, that's all. He must be a pretty clever fakir. -Of course he isn't straight?" - -"As a bow-knot," said Fancy, "but if he amuses you, I'll introduce you -to him. I've got a pretty good stand-in with him, yet." She smiled -sadly. - -"Suppose you do. I'd like to hear him talk." - -"All right," said Fancy. They rose and walked in the medium's -direction, encountering him on the foreward deck. He was holding his -hat against the fresh breeze and gazing at the approaching lights of the -city. The meeting was somewhat constrained at first. Vixley seemed to -be embarrassed at Cayley's aristocratic appearance, and evidently -wondered what his motive was in being introduced. Cayley, however, was -sufficiently a man of the world to be able to put the medium at his -ease. He told stories, he made jokes, and gradually drew Vixley out. -The wolf talked gingerly, making sure of his ground, his little black -eyes shifting from one to the other, whether he spoke or listened. -Cayley held him cleverly until the crowd began to descend, making ready -for the disembarkation. They went down to the lower deck. Here the -crowd had begun to pack together into a close mass, jostling, joking, -singing--all sorts and conditions of men in a common holiday mood. - -Cayley managed so that Fancy went ahead, and, with some dexterous -manoeuvering, allowed two or three persons to pass between himself and -her. Vixley was just behind him, when Cayley turned and said quickly: - -"Can you meet me at the Hospital Saloon at ten o'clock to-night?" - -"What for?" the Professor demanded. - -"Important--something about Payson. It is decidedly to your advantage -to see me." - -"I'll be there!" A light gleamed behind Vixley's shrewd black eyes. - -The two squirmed their way to where Fancy was standing, and accompanied -her off the boat. At the entrance to the ferry building the medium took -his leave. Cayley and Fancy had dinner together, after which, urging an -engagement, he put her aboard her car and walked down Market Street to -the "Hospital." - -Vixley was there, waiting for him, sitting at a side table, regarding an -enormous painting of a nude over the bar. His quick eye caught Cayley -as he entered and drew him on. For the rest of the interview they did -not leave the young man's face. - - - - - *CHAPTER XII* - - *THE FIRST TURNING TO THE RIGHT* - - -"All I got to say is this," said Madam Spoll, "if you know what's best -for yourself, you won't make no enemies." - -"I scarcely think you can hurt me much," said Granthope, losing interest -in the discussion, as he saw he could make no way with her. - -"We can't, can't we? We know a whole lot more about you than you'd care -to have told, Frank Granthope. Since I seen you last, things have -developed with Payson, and now we're in a position to say to you, look -out for yourself. Payson's stock has went up some. We've got inside -information that's valuable." - -"Then you don't need me, surely." - -"We need you to keep your mouth shut, if nothing else." - -"You mean not to tell Mr. Payson anything? I would if I thought I could -make him listen." - -"Tell _him_? Lord, you can tell him till you're black in the face, and -he wouldn't believe it--not till you tell him where we got our -information. Why, if he caught me at the keyhole of his room, he -wouldn't suspect anything. We've got the goods to deliver this time, -don't you fool yourself. Payson's a ten-to-one shot all right. All we -want to be sure of now is the girl you're trying to marry." - -"I'm not trying to marry her," said Granthope bitterly. - -"That's lucky for you!" - -"Why?" he demanded suspiciously. - -Madam Spoll spoke very slowly and deliberately without asperity, -"Because if you _should_ be fool enough to try it on your own hook -without helping us out in our game, why, we'd have to show you up to -her. I know a little too much about you, Frank Granthope, for you to -throw me down as easy as that. You can't exactly set yourself up for a -saint, you know; there's the Bennett affair and one or two more like it. -Then, again, there's Fancy Gray and several others like _that_. It'll -add up to a pretty tidy scandal, if the Payson girl should happen to -hear about it all; and if not her, there's others that it won't do you -any good to have know." - -Granthope shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, looking calmly at the -medium. Her face was as placid and unwrinkled as his. She showed not -the slightest trace of vindictiveness, talking as though discussing some -impersonal business arrangement. - -"Then I am to understand that you threaten me with blackmail?" - -"Black, white or yellow, any color you like." She made a deprecatory -gesture, "But I don't put it that way myself; all I do say is, that it's -for your interest to leave us alone. You know as well as I do that we -can put the kibosh on your business, if we want to. We've got a pretty -good gang to work with, and when we pass the word round and hand you the -double-cross, you won't read many more palms at five per, not in this -town you won't." - -He smiled. "That's all a bluff. You can't expose me without giving -yourself away as well." - -"What have we got to lose? We could get the old man back any time we -gave him a jolly. You can't bust up our business--too many suckers in -town for that. Lord, I've been exposed till I grew fat on it. But we -can break _you_, Frank Granthope; we can bust your business and queer -you with this swell push, easy, not to speak of Clytie Payson." - -"Well, then," said Granthope, rising and taking his hat, "go ahead and -do it! We might just as well settle this thing now. Smash my -business--I don't care; I wish you would! Ruin any social ambition I -may be fool enough to have--it'll serve me right for caring for such -nonsense. Tell Miss Payson all you know--it'll save me the shame of -telling her myself. God knows I wish she did know it! I'm getting sick -of the whole dirty game." - -Madam Spoll, completely taken aback by his unexpected change of base, -stood with a sneer on her face, watching him. "You ought to go on the -stage, Frank Granthope--you almost fooled me for a minute," she said -with an ironic smile. "I fully expected you to say you had joined the -Salvation Army next, and had come around here to save me from hell. So -you've got religion, have you? You'd look well in a white necktie, you -would! And your inside pocket full of mash notes!" - -"Well," he said, walking to the door, "you've had your say and I've had -mine. You can believe what you please, but when you do think it over, -you may recall the fact that I usually mean what I say." - -This was the end of the interview. Madam Spoll, at Vixley's -instigation, had sent for Granthope and had "put on the screws." -Granthope walked back to his rooms in a brown study. He was at bay now, -and there seemed to be no escape for him. - -The red-headed office boy was whistling and whittling a pencil lazily at -Fancy's desk as the palmist entered. There was no one else in the room. - -"Has anybody been here, Jim?" Granthope asked. - -Jim looked up carelessly and replied, "Dere was a lady what blew in -about a half an hour ago and she told me she might float back." - -"Who was she?" - -"She wouldn't leave no name, but she was a kissamaroot from Peachville -Center all right. She looked like she was just graduated from a French -laundry. She left dese gloves here." - -He handed over a pair of long, immaculately white gloves, which were -lying on a chair. Granthope looked at them carefully, blew one out till -it took the form of a hand and then inspected the wrinkles. - -"Oh," he said. "Tell Miss Payson to come into my studio when she comes -back." - -"Say, Mr. Granthope, who's Miss Gray? De lady wanted to know where was -Miss Gray, and I told her she could search me, for I wasn't on. She -looked like she took me for a shine to be holdin' down de desk here; -dat's right." - -Granthope walked quickly into his studio without answering. - -He seated himself thoughtfully and looked about him, still holding the -white glove caressingly in his hand. His eye traveled from the -electric-lighted table, round the black velvet arras, to the panel where -the signs of the zodiac were embroidered in gold: then his eyes closed. -He sat silent for ten minutes or so, then he drew his hand through his -heavy black hair and across his brow. His eyes opened; he arose; a -faint whimsical smile shone on his face. - -Then, still smiling, he strode deliberately across the room, grasped the -black velvet hanging and gave it a violent tug, wrenching it from the -cornice. It fell in a soft, dark mass upon the floor. He seized the -next breadth of drapery, and the next, tearing them from the wall. So -he went calmly round the room in his work of destruction, disclosing a -widening space of horribly-patterned wall-paper--pink and yellow roses -writhing up a violently blue background. On the last side of the room -two windows appeared, the glass almost opaque with dust. - -He threw up a sash; a shaft of sunshine shot in, and, falling upon the -velvet waves upon the floor, changed them to dull purple. In that ray a -universe of tiny motes danced radiantly. A current of air set them in -motion and swept them from the room through the window into the world -outside. - -And, as he stood there, his face like that of a child who had released a -toy balloon, watching that beam of yellow light, Clytie Payson opened -the door of the studio and looked in at him. She appeared suddenly, -like a picture thrown vividly upon a screen. She saw Granthope before -he saw her, and, for a moment, she stood gazing. His pose was eloquent; -he was, in his setting, almost symbolistic--she needed no explanation of -what had happened. Then, it was as if some tense cord snapped in her -mind, and she threw herself forward, no longer the dreamer, but the -actor, giving free rein to her emotion. - -[Illustration: His pose was eloquent] - -He turned and caught sight of her. Her hands were outstretched, her -eyes were burning with a new fire, as if her smoldering had burst into -flame. - -"Oh! You have done it! I knew you would!" - -He gave her his two hands in hers, nodding his head slowly; his smile -was that of one who viewed himself impersonally, looking on at his own -actions. He did not speak. A quaint humor struggled in his mind with -the intensity of the situation. Something in him, also, had snapped, -and he was self-conscious in his new role. - -She clutched his hands excitedly, and lifted her eyes up to his, with a -new, unabashed fondness burning in them. She had thrown away all her -reserves. - -"It's magnificent!" she said. "Oh, how I have longed for this! How I -have waited for it! And now, how I admire--and love you for it!" - -Her face was so near his that, like an electric spark, the flash of -eagerness darted from one to the other. He felt the shock of emotion -tingling his blood. It swept his mind from control and flooded his will -with an irresistible desire for her. He saw that she was ready for him, -willing to be won. He took her in his arms and kissed her softly, but -gripping her almost savagely in his embrace. - -"Do you mean it?" he cried. "Do you love me, really? I can't believe -it! It's too much for me. Tell me!" - -She released herself gently, still looking up at him and smiling -frankly. "Didn't you know? You, who know so much of women? I thought -you understood me as I have understood you." - -He still held her, as if he feared he could never get her again so -close, and she went on: - -"Oh, I would never have told you, if you had gone on as you were going, -though I should always have loved you--I could never have helped that. -But now, after this crisis, this victory--I know what it all means--I -_must_ tell you! Why shouldn't I? It is true, and I am not ashamed to -be the first to speak. Yes, I love you!" - -The reaction came, his sight grew dark at the thought of his -unworthiness, and he freed her, putting her away slowly. Then, as if to -resist any temptation, he clasped his hands behind his back. - -"I can't stand it!" he exclaimed. "It isn't fair for me to let you say -that. Don't say it yet. Wait till I have told you what I am. Then you -will despise me, and hate me." - -"Never!" she said firmly. "Do you think I don't know you? I am sure. -It is impossible for you to surprise me. Whatever you have been or -done, it will make no difference--for better or for worse. Of course, I -can't know all the circumstances of your life, but I feel that I am sure -of your motives--I may know an ideal 'you,' but, if that is not what you -are now, it is what you are to be. It is that 'you' that I love--all -the rest is dead, I hope." She swept her eyes about the barren room, -and her hand went out in comprehensive gesture. "Surely all this can't -mean anything less than that? You are not one for compromise or -half-measures. You have burned your bridges, haven't you?" - -"Oh, yes," he said. "I don't intend to do things half-way. But it's -not a pretty story I have to tell. It's selfish, sordid, vulgar." - -"Oh, I know something of it, already. Mr. Cayley has told me about that -Bennett affair, for he suspected, somehow, that you were implicated in -it. And I have guessed more. You needn't be afraid. But you had -better tell me as much as you can--not for my sake, but for your own. -Then it will all be over, and we can begin fresh." - -She dropped to a seat on the couch and leaned languidly against the -cushions, clasping her hands in her lap. He scarcely dared look at her, -and walked nervously up and down the room, dreading the inevitable -ordeal. For a while he did not speak, then he turned swiftly to say: - -"Positively, I don't know where to begin!" - -"You would better begin at the beginning, then--with Madam Grant." - -"You suspected that, then?" - -"It was that suspicion that has drawn me to you. I should never have -begun to love you without that, perhaps. It seemed to justify my -growing feeling for you. Haven't I hinted at that often enough? I mean -that in some way we had been connected before. You _were_ the little -boy who disappeared when she died, weren't you?" - -"Yes, of course." - -"But I can't make it out! There was never any child there when I went, -though I was conscious of some secret presence--some one invisible." - -"I was locked in the closet--I watched you through a crack in the door." - -"Oh!" Her eyes widened with a full direct stare; her breath came -quickly at the revelation. He watched her, as her expression was -transmuted from bewilderment to the beginning of an agonized -disillusion. He could not bear it, as he saw that her mind was -hastening to the explanation, and he forestalled her next question by -his ruthless confession. - -"Of course, that's the way I was able to give you that very wonderful -clairvoyant reading--the picture of you in Madam Grant's room." - -She took the blow bravely, but it was evident that she had not been -quite ready for it. "Then you are really not clairvoyant at all? You -were simply imposing on my credulity? I want to know the exact truth, -so that we can straighten matters out." She spoke slowly, hesitatingly. - -"I told you it was a ghastly story--this is the least of it," he said, -wincing. - -The smile fluttered back to her quivering lips, and with a quick impulse -she rose, went to him again and clasped his hand. - -"Oh, I'm not making it easy for you!" she cried. "Forgive me, please. I -can bear anything you say--be sure of that, won't you? Come here!" - -She drew him down to the couch beside her, still keeping his hand in -hers. "This is better," she said softly. "Don't think of me as an -inquisitor, but as a friend. What you have been can not matter any -longer. But let us have no more deceit or reserve between us. You see, -I don't quite understand yet about that day. How did you know who I -was? How did you get my name?" - -He summoned his courage as for an operation desperately necessary, and -looked her straight in the eye. - -"That was a trick. I read 'Clytie' inside your ring." - -She took it without flinching. "But my last name--that wasn't there!" - -"Oh, that was inspiration; I can't explain it. You see, I had happened -to hear the name 'Payson' that morning, and it recalled the fact that I -had seen it before upon a picture in Madam Grant's bedroom. Your -father's name, 'Oliver Payson,' it was." - -"In Madam Grant's room? How strange! I don't understand that." - -"Nor I, either. Yet you say he knew her?" queried Granthope. - -"Only slightly, so he gave me to understand, at least--still, that may -not be true. He may have his reasons for not telling more." She turned -to him with a strange, deliberate, questing expression, and said, "Who -_are_ you, anyway?" Then, "Was Madam Grant your mother?" - -"I don't know. I've often suspected that it might be so, but somehow I -don't quite believe it. I don't, at least, _feel_ it." - -"Why did you run away?" - -"Just before she died she asked me to take some money she had and to -keep it safe. I hid it and ran away because I was afraid that they'd -find it and take it away from me. I went to Stockton and carried the -package to a bank, but they frightened me with their questions and I ran -away without any explanations. Of course it's lost, and it was, as I -remember it, a big sum, some thousands. I could never prove that I left -it there, for my name wasn't on the package of bills. I had written -some false name--I forget what. I never let any one know that I had -lived with Madam Grant, after that, for fear that I should be accused of -having stolen the money. My story would never have been believed, of -course." - -"I see." Clytie's eyes half closed in thought. "I'm sure it was meant -for you, Francis." - -The sound of his name stirred him and his hand tightened on hers. - -"Perhaps so. But I've always thought that she intended it for some of -her kin. It has been impossible for me to trace any of her family, -though. All I know about her is that she was at Vassar College, but I -can't possibly identify her, because Grant was undoubtedly a name she -assumed here." - -"We must try to see what we can do, you and I. Perhaps I may be able to -help you, somehow. What happened after that?" - -"I worked at odd jobs in the country for a number of years, then came -back to San Francisco. There I did anything I could get to do till I -met Madam Spoll. She was a medium, and is yet. I lived with her several -years." - -As he had torn down the draperies of that dark, mysterious room, he went -on, now, to tear down the curtain of shams and hypocrisies that had -hidden his true self from her and from her kind. - -"That was the beginning of a long education in trickery. I was -surrounded by charlatans and impostors, I was taught that the public was -gullible and that it liked to be fooled--that it would be fooled, -whether we did it or not; and that we might benefit by its credulity as -well as any one else. There was sophistry enough, God knows, in their -miserable philosophy, but I was young and was for a while taken in by -it. I had no other teachers; I had only the example of the colony of -fakirs about me. I saw our victims comforted and encouraged by the -mental bread-pills we fed them. So we played on their weakness and -vanity without scruple. I learned rapidly. I was cleverer than my -teachers; I went far ahead of them. I invented new tricks and methods. -But it was too easy. There was scarcely any need of subtlety or finesse. -The most primitive methods sufficed. You have no idea how easily -seemingly intelligent persons can be led once they are past the first -turning. That was finally why I got out of it and went into palmistry. -That had, at least, a basis of science, and a dignified history." - -He arose again and walked to the open window. His self-consciousness was -a little relieved by his interest in the analysis. He looked out, and -turned back to her with a grim smile. - -"It's in the air, here--the gambling instinct is paramount!" he said. -"Almost everybody gambles in San Francisco. You know that well enough. -You can almost hear the rattle of the slot-machines on the cigar-stand -at the corner, down there. It's that way all over town. The gold-fever -has never died out. Every one speculates or plays the races or bets on -ball games or on the prize-fights, or plays faro or poker or bridge--or, -at least, makes love. They're all superstitious, all credulous, all -willing to take risks and chances, and so the mediums thrive. Tips are -sought for and paid for. Every one wants to get rich quickly and not -always scrupulously. It's not a city of healthy growth; it's a town of -surprises, of magic and madness and rank enthusiasms. We pretended to -show them the short cuts to success, that's all. You know, perhaps, how -the money-getting ability can eclipse all other faculties, and you won't -be surprised when I tell you that we made large sums from men of wealth -and prominence--they were the easiest of the lot, usually." - -She brought him back to his story. "Of course I understood from what I -heard, that you had been an accomplice of these mediums. I don't think -you need to go into that." - -"Oh, you don't know all! It will sicken you to have me go into the -actual details, but I want you to know the worst. I think I must tell -you, lest others may. One picture will be enough to make you see how -vulgar and despicable I had become in that epoch. You'd never get to -the sordidness of it unless I told you in so many words. Do you think -you can stand it? You may not want ever to know me again. God! I -don't know whether I _can_ tell you or not! It's terrible to have to -sully you with the description of it!" - -For a moment she faltered, gazing at him, trembling. Her eyes sought his -and left them, often, as she spoke. "You don't mean--I've heard that -some of these mediums--the vilest of them--don't hesitate to--take -advantage of the sensual weakness of their patrons--that they--Oh, don't -tell me that you ever had any part in _that_!" She covered her face. - -He walked over to her and pulled her hands away, looking down into her -eyes. "Do you think I would ever have kissed you if I had?" he said. -"No, there were depths I didn't fall to, after all. Oh, I've had my way -with women often enough; but not that way." - -She threw off her fears with a gesture of relief, and her mood changed. -"I believe you. But don't tell me any more, please. I think I know, in -a way, just about what you were capable of, and some things I couldn't -bear to think about. But my reason has always fought against my -intuition whenever I suspected you of any real dishonor. Thank Heaven I -shall never have to do so again! I think I was wise enough to see how, -in all this, you had the inclinations without the opportunities for -better things. You were a victim of your environment. Spare me any -more. I can't bear to see you abase yourself so. I am so sure you have -outlived all this. It's all over. I have told you that I love you. I -shall always love you!" - -He yearned for her--for the peace and support that she could give him at -this crisis, but his pride was too hot, yet, for him to accept it; he -had not finished his confession. She was still on a pedestal--he -admired and respected her, but she was above his reach. He could not -quite believe that hint in her eyes, for her halo blinded him. She was -still princess, seeress, goddess--not yet a woman he could take -fearlessly to his arms. His hesitation at her advances, therefore, was -reluctant, almost coy. He did not wish to take her from her niche; he -must first receive absolution. After that--he dared not think. She had -allured him in the first stages of his acquaintance, she still allured -him; but her spiritual attributes dominated him. "I think I am another -man, now," he said, "but my repentance is scarcely an hour old. It is -too young; it has not yet proved itself. It's not fair for me to accept -all you can give for the little I can return. I must meet you as an -equal." - -She looked at him calmly. "It is more than a few hours old," she said. -"Do you think I don't know? What I first saw in you I have watched grow -ever since. I told you all I could; it was not for me to help you more. -It was for you to help yourself--to develop from within. I think you -were all ready for me, and I came at the psychological moment." She -looked around the room from which the sunlight had now retreated, -leaving it shadowy and dim. The hangings of black velvet were scattered -about the floor, the little table and its two chairs were like a group -of skeletons, empty, satiric, suggestive of past vanities. "'What is to -come is real; it was a dream that passed,'" she quoted. - -He found a new courage and a new hope. It shone in his eyes, it tingled -in his body; something of his old audacity returned. He stood dark and -strong before her. - -"Oh, you have helped, indeed!" he said. "I think this would never have -come alone, for I was sunk in an apathy--and yet, I'm not sure. The old -life was no longer possible. I confess that I was in a trap, threatened -with exposure--I feared your discovery of what I had been--I smarted -under the shame of your disapproval--but it was not that that influenced -me. It was like a chemical reaction, as all human intercourse is; you -precipitated all this deceit and hypocrisy at one stroke and left my -mind clear." - -"I'm so glad you feel it that way," Clytie said. "It brings us -together, doesn't it? It lessens the debt you would owe me." Her -eyelids crinkled in a delicious expression of humor, as she added, "And -it makes this place seem a little less like a Sunday-school room!" - -"Oh, I suppose many a man has refused to reform for fear of being -considered a prig!" he laughed. "But I haven't swept out all the -corners yet. I must finish cleaning house before I invite you in." - -"Why should we talk about it any more?" - -"But it isn't all over!" he exclaimed. "I haven't told everything. -It's all over, so far as I am concerned--I shall not go back--but now -you are involved in it. Could anything drag me lower than that?" - -"What do you mean?" she asked. - -"Only that, because of my fault in not warning you before, your father -has already become the latest dupe for this gang of fakirs. I'm afraid -he's in their power. Hasn't he told you anything about it?" - -"A little. What is there to fear from them?" - -"Of course, it's only his money they're after. They have got hold of -considerable information about him--I don't know just how or what--and -they have succeeded in hoodwinking him into a belief that they have -supernatural powers. I'm afraid it's no use for me to attempt to expose -them. He'd never believe anything I could say." - -"No, that's useless. He has taken a violent prejudice against you, for -some reason." - -"Oh, the reason is easy to find. I've made enemies of Madam Spoll and -Vixley, and they have probably done their best to hurt my reputation. -They made me a proposition to join them; in fact, their scheme was for -me to work you for information--make love to you, in order to help them -rob your father." - -Clytie looked at him trustfully. "You can never convince me that that -was the reason why you were attracted to me, for I shall not believe -you!" She patted his hand affectionately, as he sat at her feet. - -He shook his head. "I don't know--I wouldn't be sure it wasn't." - -"Ah, I know you better!" She grew blithe, and a mischievous smile -appeared on her lips. Her eyes twinkled as she said archly: "Perhaps I -may say that I know myself better, too. I'm vainer than you seem to -think, and you're not at all complimentary. Don't you think--don't you -think that--perhaps--I myself had something to do with your attentions -to me?" She put her head on one side and looked at him with mock -coquetry. - -His eyes feasted upon her beauty. "I won't be banal enough to say that -you are different from every woman I have ever known, or that you're the -only woman I ever loved, though both of those things are true enough. -If I had ever loved any other woman, probably I should feel just the -same about you as I do now. But no woman has ever stirred me mentally -before. You have given me myself--nobody else could ever have done -that. I have nothing to give you in return--nothing but twenty-odd -mistaken, misspent years." - -"And how many more to be wonderfully filled, I wonder? You're only a -child, and I must teach you. Can you trust me? Remember that I knew -you when you were a little boy." - -"I wonder what will become of me? I suppose I shall get on somehow. It -doesn't interest me much yet, but I suppose it will have to be -considered. I'll fight it out alone." He looked up suddenly. "When do -you go East?" - -She smiled. "I came down here to tell you that I should leave on -Saturday." - -He jumped up with a bitter look and walked to the window. - -She looked over to him with her eyes half shut and a delectable -expression upon her lips. "But I've decided not to go--at all!" - -She almost drawled it. - -In an instant he was back at her side, borne on a flood of happiness. -For a moment he looked at her hard. His eyes went from feature to -feature, to her hands, her hair in silent approval. Then he exclaimed -decidedly: - -"Oh, you can't link yourself with me in any way. I'm a social -outcast--why, now, I haven't even the advantage of being a picturesque -adventurer! You will compromise yourself fearfully--you'll be -ostracized--oh, it's impossible--I can't permit it!" - -"You need not fear for yourself--or for me," she said, clasping his -hand. "If I love you, what do I care--what should you care? I have -come to you like Porphyria--but I am no Porphyria--you'll have no need -to strangle me in my hair--my 'darling one wish' will be easier found -than that!" - -There was something in the unrestrained fondness of her look, now, that -made him jump to a place beside her. What might have followed was -interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice in the anteroom, demanding -Mr. Granthope. Clytie sprang up, her cheeks burning. Granthope turned -coolly to the door, with his eyebrows lifted. Mr. Payson appeared at -the entrance. He was scowling under his bushy eyebrows, the muscles of -his face were twitching. A cane was firmly clenched in his right hand. -He bent a harsh look at his daughter. - -"What does this mean, Clytie?" he demanded. - -She had recovered on the instant and faced him splendidly, in neither -defiance nor supplication. "It means," she said in her low, steady -voice, "that as you won't permit me to receive Mr. Granthope in your -house, I must see him in his." - -"Leave this room instantly!" he thundered bombastically. - -"Please don't make a scene, father. I'm quite old enough to take care -of myself, and to judge for myself. You needn't humiliate me." - -"Humiliate you! If you're not humiliated at being found here with a -cheap impostor, I don't think I can shame you! This man is a rank -scoundrel and a cheat--I won't have you compromise yourself with such a -mountebank!" - -Granthope stood watching her unruffled, fearless pose, confident in her -power to control the situation. - -"Mr. Granthope is my friend, father. Don't say anything that you may -regret. I don't intend to leave you alone with him till you are master -of yourself, and can say what you have come to say without anger. He -has respected your request not to call on me at the house, and I came -here of my own accord, without his invitation. And he has always -treated me as a gentleman should." - -"A gentleman!" Mr. Payson sneered. "I know what he is--he's a damned -trickster. I've always suspected it, but since I kicked him out of my -house I've had proof of it. I know his record"--he turned to -Granthope--"from persons who know you well, sir!" - -"I suppose you mean Vixley or Madam Spoll." - -"You can't deny that they know you pretty well?" - -"Your daughter knows more, I think. I have just taken the liberty of -informing her as to just how much of a scoundrel I am." - -"And you have the impertinence to consider yourself her social equal!" - -"I think Miss Payson's position is sufficiently assured for her to be in -no danger." - -"Well, yours certainly is not. I've heard of your lady-killing. I -suppose you want to add my daughter's scalp to your belt. Haven't you -women enough running after you yet? So you wheedled her with a -mock-confession--tried the cry-baby on her. Well, it won't work with -me. I'll tell her all about you, don't be afraid!" - -Clytie went to him and laid a hand gently upon his arm. "Father, we'll -go, now, please. I can't bear this. You need only to look about you to -see that, whatever Mr. Granthope has been, he is no longer a palmist. -You see this room is already dismantled--if you'll only listen, I'll -explain everything." - -"It does look rather theatrical here." Mr. Payson looked at the piles -of velvet on the floor, then turned again to the young man. "It seems -that you have the audacity to want to marry my daughter. No doubt this -little scene is a part of the game. It's very pretty, very effective. -But let me tell you that this sensational tomfoolery won't be of any -use. You are a charlatan, sir! You've always been one, and you always -will be." - -"Mr. Payson," Granthope said, with no trace of anger, "I can't deny that -something of what you say is true, but your daughter knows that much -already, and she has it from a better authority than yours. I can't -blame you for your feeling in this matter; it's quite natural, for you -don't know me. But I hope in time to induce you to believe in me. I -wish you would let me begin by doing what should have done when I first -met your daughter--warn you that you are in the hands of a dangerous set -of swindlers who are deceiving you systematically. I can tell you a -good deal that it will be greatly to your advantage to know about them." - -The old man broke into ironic laughter. "That's just what they told me -you'd say," he sneered. "They warned me that you'd try to libel them -and accuse them of all sorts of impossible tricks. Set a thief to catch -a thief, eh? No, that won't work, Mr. Granthope. I happen to know too -much for that!" - -"Won't you listen to what he has to say, father? It can do no harm. -What do you know about those persons, after all? They are undoubtedly -trying to deceive you," Clytie said earnestly. - -Granthope added: "I can tell you of tricks they habitually practise." - -"What's that to me? Haven't I got eyes? Haven't I common sense? Can -you tell me how they find out things about my own life that no one -living knows but me?" - -"I can tell you how it was done in other cases--" - -"Aha, I thought so--you can tell me, for instance, how to crawl through -a trap in the mopboard, can't you? I'd rather hear how you impose on -silly women, if you're going in for your confessions. What do you -expect me to believe? I am quite satisfied with my own ability to -investigate. I haven't lived for fifty years in the West to be imposed -upon by flimflam. I'm not suffering from senile decay quite yet!" - -He took Clytie to the door; there he paused dramatically, to deliver his -parting shot. - -"I notice you've hidden away that young woman you're living with. You -might as well send for her--my daughter is not likely to be back again -in a hurry." - -As they left, Clytie gave him a look which denied her father's words. - -Granthope waited till the hall door had slammed, then went into the -office, where the red-haired boy was lolling out of the window. - -"Jim," he said, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder, "I shall not need -you any more. Here's your pay for the week. You needn't come back." - -Jim shuffled into his coat, whistling, pulled on his cap, and left -without a trace of regret. Granthope pulled a chair up to the grate. -The dusk fell, and he still remained, watching the fire. - - -It was after six o'clock when a knock awoke him from his reverie. He -called out a moody, annoyed, "Come in!" without rising. - -Mrs. Page rustled in, bringing an odor of sandalwood. She was dressed in -a squirrel-coat and a Cossack cap, from which a long veil floated. Her -cheeks were rosy with the wind, her glossy hair coquetted over her -forehead in dark, springy curls. She stopped, her head on one side, her -arms saucily akimbo, as Granthope sprang up and snapped on the electric -light. - -"Oh, I'm _so_ glad I found you!" she bubbled. "You're run after so much -now that I knew it was only a chance, my finding you in. I hope I -didn't disturb you at silent prayer, or anything, did I? You looked -terribly serious. Were you thinking of home and mother? If you don't -look out, some day you'll be framed and labeled _Pictures in the Fire_. -Now, you're angry with me! What's the matter? Don't frown, please; it -isn't at all becoming!" - -She walked up to him, her hand outstretched. Lightly he evaded her and -forced a smile. - -"What an iceberg you are, nowadays, Frank!" she laughed. "Don't be -afraid; I'm not going to kiss you! It's only little Violet, the Pride of -the Presidio. Please laugh! You used to think that was funny." - -"Do have a seat, won't you?" he said, in a half-hearted attempt to -conceal his distaste. - -"Thanks, awfully, but really I can't wait. I just simply tore to get -here, and I must go right off. You must come along with me; so get on -your hat and coat." She looked about the room for them. - -"What is it?" he asked without curiosity. - -"Why, a dinner, of course! What else could it be at this time of day? -It's Mr. Summer's affair, and I promised to get you." - -"Mr. Summer is the latest, I suppose?" - -She came back to him and took his coat by the two lapels, smiling up at -him. - -"That's mean, Frank! You know I never went back on you. But you as -much as gave me notice, as if I was a servant-girl. Gay's a nice boy, -and I like him--that's all. I'm educating him. Of course, he doesn't -know what's what, yet, but he's rather fun. Do come--we're going to -have dinner at the Poodle Dog, and the Orpheum afterward perhaps--Heaven -knows where it'll end. There's an awfully swell New York girl coming, a -Miss Cavendish, and she's simply _dying_ to meet you. You'll like her. -She's a sport--you can't feaze her--and she's pretty enough to suit even -you. You can have her all to yourself. Come on!" - -"I'm sorry, but I can't go to-night," he said wearily. - -"Oh, Frank, please! Not if I beg you?" She looked at him -languishingly, and tried for his hand. - -"Really, no! I'm sorry, but I'm too busy." - -Mrs. Page pouted and turned slowly toward the door. - -"I suppose you're afraid Gay'll bore you. I'll manage him. I've got -him trained. Or, if you say so--we'll go alone? Just you and me. I -can get rid of them, some way." - -He shook his head decidedly. - -"Did you have such a dull time the last time over at the Hermitage?" she -tempted. "We might go there. I don't know _when_ I'll have another -chance. Edgar will be back soon." She raised her brows meaningly. - -"It's awfully good of you--but I can't, possibly." - -"You might say you'd _like_ to!" - -"I don't really care to, if you must have it!" - -She bridled and tossed her head. "_Oh_, very well!" she sniffed, and -was off in a huff. - -Granthope went to the desk, and, taking a bunch of keys from his pocket, -unlocked the two lower drawers. The first contained a collection of -photographs of women. He drew them out in handfuls, stopping at one -occasionally, or turning it over to see what was written upon it. The -most were inscribed, on the back, or scrawled across the face, "To Mr. -Granthope"--several "To Francis"--one or two "To Frank, with love." All -types of beauty were represented, all sorts of costumes, all ages, all -phases of pretty women's vanity. He looked at some with a puzzled -expression, searching his memory for a clue to their identity. At a few -he smiled sarcastically, at some he frowned. Once or twice his face -softened to tenderness or pity. There was one of Fancy amongst them, -showing her in costume. It had been taken years ago, while she was -acting. He looked at it with a sort of wonder, she seemed so young, so -girlish. On the back was written, "N.F.F.I.L." He put it back into the -drawer and gathered up the others. - -He made a heap of them and threw them upon the fire, then dropped into -the arm-chair to watch them burn. The flames passed from face to face, -licking up the features. It was like a mimic death. - -The other drawer was filled with letters, tied into bunches. They were -all addressed in feminine handwriting, mostly of the fashionable, -angular sort. The envelopes were postmarked chiefly from San Francisco, -but there were not a few from Eastern cities and abroad. One out of -five bore special delivery stamps. A scent of mingled perfumes came from -them. He cut the packages open and threw them into the wastebasket -without stopping to read a word. - -He poked up the fire, and, carrying the basket over, fed in the letters, -a handful at a time. The flames roared up the chimney, sending out a -fierce heat. It took an hour to destroy the whole collection. A mass -of distorted, blackened, filmy sheets remained. - -As he looked, a sudden draft made one leaf of charcoal glow to a red -heat, and the writing showed plain--black on a cherry-colored ground. -He stooped curiously to read it, and saw that it was the remains of a -card, filled with Fancy Gray's handwriting. He remembered abstracting -her notes upon Clytie, made after that first day's reading. He had -placed it in the letter-drawer for safe keeping, and had forgotten to -remove it. - -Only the lower part was legible: - -"... intuitive powers (?!) Play her Mysticism. -..... Easy. Sympathetic fool ...." - - -The glow suddenly faded, the charred paper writhed again, black and -impotent. He gave it a vicious jab with the poker, and scattered it to -ashes. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIII* - - *THE BLOODSUCKER* - - -Professor Vixley's place was on Turk Street, the lower flat of three, -whose separate doors made a triplet at the top of a tri-divided flight -of wooden steps up from the sidewalk. The door had a plate-glass -window, behind which was a cheap lace curtain. At the side, nailed over -the letter slip, was a card bearing the written inscription, - - +--------------------------+ - | | - | PROF. P. VIXLEY. | - | | - +--------------------------+ - - -Inside, a narrow hall ran down into the house, doors leading at -intervals on the right hand, to small box-like rooms. The first one was -the Professor's sitting- and reception-room, the shearing place for his -lambs. The small type-writer on a stand and his roll-top desk attempted -to give the room a businesslike aspect, while the homelier needs of -comfort were satisfied by the machine-carved Morris chair, a padded, -quilted couch with "hand-painted" sofa cushions and a macrame fringe -along the mantel. Art was represented by the lincrusta-walton dado -below the blank white plastered walls, partly covered with "spirit -photographs," and a small parlor organ in the corner. A canary in a -gilded cage gave a touch of gaiety to the apartment. - -Here Professor Vixley sat smoking a terrible cigar. Beside him, upon a -small draped table, was a pile of small school slates, a tumbler of -water and a sad towel. - -Opposite him, in a patent rocking-chair, was a young woman of some -twenty-four or five years. She was a blonde, with pompadoured -citron-yellow hair. Her eyes were deep violet, her nose slightly -retrousse, giving her a whimsical, almost petulantly juvenile look that -was decidedly engaging. She was dressed in black, so fittingly that no -man would remember what she wore five minutes after he left her. This -attractive creature, for she was indubitably winsome, was Flora Flint, -by profession a materializing medium. Her past was prolific in -adventure; by her alluring person and the dashing spirit shown in her -eyes, her future promised as much as her past. - -"Are you busy to-day, Vixley?" she said. - -"That's what," said Vixley. "I've got a good graft doped out, and it's -liable to be a big thing. First time to-day. One of Gertie Spoll's -strikes, and we're working him together. Old man Payson it is." - -"Oh, that's the one Doc Masterson expected me to help him with, isn't -it?" Flora asked. "I wish you'd let me in on that." - -"He ain't in your line, Flo, I expect. Ain't you doin' anything now?" - -"Only the regular set, the same old stand-bys, and there's nothing in it -at four bits apiece. I've got so many people to pay that even if I get -forty or fifty in a circle my expenses eat it all up. Then I have to -keep thinking up new stunts and buy props." - -"You don't have to spend much on gas," Vixley laughed, as he began -washing off his slates. - -Flora smiled. "No, but it comes to about the same thing in luminous -paint." - -"Why don't you make it yourself? It ain't nothin' but ground -oyster-shells and sulphur." - -"Oh, it ain't only that. I only use the best silk gauze that'll fold up -small--that's expensive; then there's a lot of work on the forms." - -"Don't you get your forms from Chicago now?" Vixley asked. - -"No, they're no good. I can make better ones myself. Oh, occasionally -I send for a rubber face or two or some cabinet attachments and -extensions. I wish I was clever enough to do the slates." She watched -the Professor sharply. - -"Oh, they ain't nothin' in slates nowadays--it don't seem to take, -somehow. They mostly prefer the psychics. I s'pose slate-writin' has -been wrote up too much--I know a dozen books describin' the tricks, and -here's this Drexel chap teachin' 'em at a dollar apiece, even. He's a -queer guy. When he can get a bookin' he travels as a magician; durin' -his off-times he sells his tricks to amachures, and then when he's down -on his uppers he does the medium. I'm sorry I went into physical -mediumship; the graft's about played out--people is gettin' too -intelligent. I've a good mind to try the developin' stunt again." - -"Say, do you think Madam Spoll has any real power?" Flora asked. - -Vixley stopped in his work to become epigrammatic. "Some mediums are -'on' and some are honest--them that's honest are fools and them that's -'on' are foolin'. Gertie's 'on' all right, and she does considerable -fishin'. I don't say that when she started she didn't have some -faculty--she used to scare me good, sometimes, and she could catch a -name occasional. But Lord, it's so much easier to fake it; you can -generally depend on human nature, and you can't on psychometry." - -"I can tell things sometimes," Flora ventured. - -"Can you?" said Vixley. "Say, I wish you'd give me a readin'; they's -somethin' I want to know about pretty bad; p'raps you could get it for -me." - -"Oh, I know you too well. I can't do it much, except the first time I -see a party; but sometimes, when I'm materializing, I can go right down -and say 'I'm Henry,' or whatever the name is." - -"I guess they're more likely to say, 'Are you Henry?' They're so crazy -to be fooled that it's a crime to take their money." - -"Women are. They're easy. They simply won't go away without a -wonderful story to tell to their friends, but men are more skeptical, as -a rule." - -"That's right. But, Lord, when they do swallow it, they take the hook, -bait and sinker. Why, look here, I had a party what used to come regular -about a girl he was stuck on, a Swede he was. Well, one day he went up -to this Drexel and he showed him one or two easy ways o' workin' the -slates, provin' it was all tricks. The Swede comes back to me and says, -'Oh,' says he, 'I know it's all a fake now; you can't fool _me_ no -more.' I looked him straight in the eye and I says: 'Don't you know -that fellow is really one of the best mediums in the business, and he's -controlled by Martin Luther? He was just tryin' to test your belief by -denyin' the truth o' spiritualism, and seein' if you'd have the courage -to stand up for what you believed. If your faith ain't no stronger than -that, after the tests I gave you, you'd better go into Mormonism and be -done with it.'" - -"Did that hold him?" - -"I've got that fellow yet; twice a month, regular, I get his little old -two dollars; Lord, he swears by me now. No, them that want to believe -_will_ believe, and you can't pry 'em off with a crowbar. Ain't that -right?" - -"I guess yes!" said Flora. "But what gets my game is the widow that -used to quarrel like cats and dogs when her husband was alive and leaks -on his shoulder when he comes to her in the spirit! They're the limit! -When a woman once gets it into her head that the dear departed can take -possession of a living body, there ain't anything she won't stand for. -My brother had a lovely case once. It was a woman whose husband hadn't -passed out more than two months and she was all broke up. Well, Harry -got her to believe that her husband could get control of his body and -talk to her. At first the woman wasn't quite sure, so Harry, talking to -her as her husband, claimed that he himself was in a dead trance. -'Why,' he said, 'if you should stick a pin into this medium's leg here, -he wouldn't feel it at all!' That was where he was foolish, for the -woman said, 'Is that so? I guess I'll just try it and see.' So Harry -had to stand for it while she jabbed a hat pin into him, but he was game -and didn't whimper. Of course that convinced the woman that she was -really communicating with her lawful husband, and she begun to kiss and -hug Harry to beat the cars, she was so glad to get hubby back." - -"Well, it's all in a day's work!" Vixley showed his sharp yellow fangs -in a grin. - -"Oh, you have to make it pleasant for sitters, sometimes," Flora yawned. - -"I guess it's no trouble for you," Vixley said, looking at her with -admiration. - -Flora yawned. "Well, I guess we earn our money, what with skeptics and -all. Now, if you have any of these reporters come in you can get rid of -them easy--but we can't. We've got to make good for the sake of the -rest of the crowd, unless they get so gay with us that we can fire 'em -out." - -"That's right. I never bother with skeptics; what's the use? I don't -want their money enough to risk their jumpin' up and gettin' on to the -game. No, sir! When any of these slick chaps that look like newspaper -men or sports, come in, I just do a few lines and then tell 'em -conditions ain't satisfactory and let 'em go. It ain't no use takin' -chances." - -"You're in luck, Vixley, I tell you! I've had no end of trouble. Why, -last week a couple o' fresh guys come in and scattered a package of -tacks all over the floor. When I come out in my stocking feet I thought -I'd die, it hurt so. But I had to just grin and bear it! My feet are -so sore yet I can hardly walk. I have to sweep the carpet now, just as -soon as it's dark, every time, unless Lulu's there to watch out!" - -Vixley laughed for almost five minutes. He had to dry his eyes with a -silk handkerchief. - -"Oh, Professor," said Flora, "I almost forgot what I came for. You know -Harry's doing the Middle West now with Mademoiselle Laflamme, the -Inspirational Contralto, and he wanted me to ask you if you had anything -on Missouri and Iowa. Would you mind lending him your test-book? You -was out there a few years ago, wasn't you?" - -"Sure. I'll look and see if I can find it," and Vixley arose and left -the room. He was gone a few minutes, and returned with a small, -blue-covered note-book. - -"Here's my test-book," he said, handing it over. "It's rather behind the -times. It was five years ago that I was out there, but maybe Harry can -get something out of it." - -"How did you get the dope, swapping?" - -"Oh, no, I done it all myself, and it's O.K. I went through the country -first as a book-agent, and I kep' my eyes and ears open. I took a look -or two through the cemeteries, when I had time, and I read up the local -papers pretty good. Of course I wouldn't go back till a year after I -got a town planted, but then it was easy graft." - -"I suppose these abbreviations are all plain?" - -"Yes, Harry will read that all right, he knows the regular cipher. The -name after the first one is the party's control. I've writ in a few -messages that'll work, and all the tests I know." - -She opened the book and ran through the pages which ran something like -this: - -Jefferson City, Mo. -Mrs. Henry Field "Mayflower" hb John died -pneumonia 1870 good wishes from little -Emily broken leg. - -Cameron, Mo. -Mrs. Osborne "Pauline" hub James calls him Jimmie -da disappeared July 1897 found drowned in Red -River August Aunt Molly is happy Love to Belle -and Joe. - - -Flora put the book in her bag, and then reached over and took up one of -the slates. The one on top was marked diagonally with two chalk-lines, -and over this was written in slate-pencil the following inscription: - -801,101 -Chapter -Marigold. - -Beside this, was a thin sheet of slate. She placed it over the marked -surface. It fitted the frame exactly and looked, at a cursory glance, -precisely like the other slates, its dark surface being clean. - -She took up another slate. On this was written: - -Unforeseen difficulties will prevent your -book being successful, if you do not take -care. Felicia. - - -The Professor grinned. "That's the dope for old Payson," he explained. -"He ought to be here any time, now." He went to the window and looked -out. - -"What game are you going to work with him?" Flora asked. - -"Oh, only a few of the old stunts. He's so easy that it won't be -nothin' but child's play. I got a lot of the old-fashioned slab-slates -for a starter, and I can change 'em on him whenever I want. He won't -insist on test conditions. Anyways, if he does, I got my little spirit -friend here handy." - -He reached up his sleeve, and pulled down a thimble attached to an -elastic cord. To the end of the thimble a small piece of slate-pencil -was affixed. - -"The only hard part about it is learnin' to write backwards and upside -down," he commented, as he let the instrument snap back out of sight. -"Say, I wish't I had a double-jointed leg like Slade! I tell you I'd -give some sittin's in this town that would paralyze the Psychical -Research!" - -"But what's this stuff on the slates mean?" - -"Oh, them is the answers I've prepared. You see, I happened to get hold -of some questions he's goin' to ask, from a young fellow who goes to his -house; and so havin' inside information, it saves considerable trouble. -Funny thing--this chap wants to marry the daughter, who'll have money, I -suppose, and he's standin' in with me on account o' what I can do for -him through the old man." - -"Why, I heard that Granthope was setting his traps for her!" - -Vixley scowled. "That's right, too. Frank's got something up his -sleeve that I can't fathom. He's been trying to buy me off, in fact, -but he'll never do it. This fellow Cayley naturally has got it in for -him, Frank bein' pretty thick with the girl. So I got to play both ends -and work the old man for Cayley and against Frank. But I can do it all -right. The old man's a cinch!" - -Flora walked up to him. "You're in luck," she said. She permitted him -to put his arm about her small trim waist and looked at him -good-naturedly. "Say, Vixley, if he's as easy as that, why can't you fix -it for some good materializing? We could do all sorts of things for -him." - -"I'd thought of that. It might be a good idea later, and we may talk -business with you." - -"Well, when you're ready, I'll do anything you say. You know me." - -At that moment the front door-bell rang. - -"Here he is now!" Vixley exclaimed. "Say, Flora, you go out the back -door through the kitchen, will you? It won't do for him to see you -here." - -"Sure! I'll spare him. The Doc says he's scared to death of a pretty -woman," and she disappeared down the hall. - -Professor Vixley went to the front door, welcomed Mr. Payson with an -oily smile, took his hat and coat and then let him into a small chamber -next to the front room. There were two straight chairs here on either -side of a table which was draped with an embroidered cloth. Behind was -a high bookcase. - -"Well, I'm all ready for you, Mr. Payson," said the medium. "We'll see -what we can do. If we don't get anything I won't charge you a cent. -Have you ever seen any slate-writin' done before?" - -"No, I haven't," said Mr. Payson, "but I've heard a good deal about it." - -"It's a very interestin' phenomena. Now, before we begin, p'raps you'd -like to examine this table; it's been examined so often, that it's -pretty well used to it by this time, but I want to have you satisfied -that there's no possibility of trickery or deceit." - -As he spoke, he took off the cover, and turned the table upside down. -Mr. Payson looked it over gravely and knocked on the top to see if it -were hollow. The investigation finished, Professor Vixley said: - -"May I ask who recommended you to me?" - -"Madam Spoll--I suppose you know her." - -"Oh, yes, and I admire her, too. Madam Spoll is a wonderful woman. I -don't know how this community could get on without her. She's brought -more satisfaction to them desirin' communication with their dear -departed than all the rest of us mediums put together. She's doin' a -great work, Mr. Payson. But she has more success with what you might -call affairs of the heart, while I find my control prefers generally to -help out in the way of business. We're all specialists, nowadays, you -know." - -"I should think that the spirits could help in one way as well as -another." - -"Now would you?" said Vixley, fixing the old man with his glittering -eyes. "Spirits ain't so much different from people on this side. Some -o' them is interested in one thing, and some in another, same as we are. -Some is nearer what I might call the material plane and some has -progressed so they don't take much interest in earthly affairs." - -"It seems to me that I'd always have an interest in my friends," said -Mr. Payson. - -"Does it?" Vixley replied. "Where was you raised?" - -"In Vermont. I lived there till I was ten years old." - -"Well, are you much interested in the kids you knew when you went to -school there?" - -"Perhaps not." - -"Well, then, that's the way it is with spirits who have got progression. -Their life on earth seems like childhood's days to them. Lord, they -have their own business to attend to. I expect it keeps 'em pretty -busy." - -"Well, I don't know." Mr. Payson shook his head and seated himself. -"It's all very strange and mysterious. But I'm only an investigator, and -what I want is the truth, no matter what it may be." - -"That's the right frame o' mind to come in," said Vixley; "you treat me -right and I'll treat you right. Have a cigar?" He took one from his -pocket and put it unlighted into his mouth, offering another to Mr. -Payson. - -"No, thanks, I don't smoke." - -"Well, if you don't mind, I will. It's a bad habit, I'm told, but it -sorts o' helps me when I'm nervous." - -Mr. Payson placed the tips of his fingers together, palm to palm, and -gestured with them. "Now, Professor Vixley, seeing that I know nothing -about you, would you mind letting me see what you can do first in the -way of a test, before we go to the main object of my visit?" - -"Why, certainly, though I can't promise to do anything conclusive the -first time. I want you to feel at liberty to try me in any way you -wish." - -"Well, I've got three questions I'd like to have you answer. I happen -to know that you couldn't possibly know what they are. If you can -answer them, I'll be satisfied that you can help me." - -"I'll try," said Vixley modestly. "It all depends upon my guides, and -we can't tell till we begin." He arose, walked to the mantel and -brought back a small pad of paper. - -"Here's what I generally use. This paper is magnetized in order to make -it easier. Examine it all you please--you won't find no carbon transfer -paper nor nothin' like that." - -"Why can't I use my own paper?" - -"I ain't got no more idea than you have," the medium confessed candidly. -"Why can't a photographer take a picture on common glass? I don't know. -I ain't a photographer. All I do know is, that we can get results from -this paper that my control has magnetized, when we can't from yours. -The spirits may be able to explain it--I can't. Now you write down the -name of your control and your three questions, one on each piece and -fold it over twice. Then I'll pull down the shades and see what I can -do." - -Mr. Payson brought his hand down on the table querulously. "That's -another thing I don't like," he said. "Why can't spirits work in the -light as well as in the dark, I'd like to know? It looks suspicious to -me." - -Vixley took the cigar from his teeth and sat down patiently before his -dupe. He rapped with his forefinger upon the table. "See here, it's -this way, Mr. Payson; every science has its own condition that has got -to be fulfilled before any experiment can be a success, hasn't it? You -can't go against nature. If you want an electric light or telephone, you -have to run wires, don't you? Why? I don't know--I'm not an -electrician. If you want to develop a photograph, you have to do it in -the dark. Why? I don't know--go ask a photographer. If you want to -make a seed grow, you put it down into the dirt and water it. Why? I -don't know. Nobody knows. It's one o' the mysteries o' life. In the -same way, if you want to get results in spiritualism, you have to submit -to the conditions that are imposed by my guide. Why? I don't know. -And what's more, I don't care. If I can get the results, it makes no -difference to me how they come. All I do know is that fifty years' -experience has shown us mediums the proper conditions necessary for the -physical manifestation of phenomena. Full daylight is all right for -psychic influences, but it don't do for slate-writin'. The question is -whether you want to accept the conditions I give you, or do you expect -the spirits to work in a way that's impossible?" - -Mr. Payson, overcome with this profound logic, submitted without further -protest to having the shades drawn down. The Professor reseated himself -and waited till the three slips were written and folded according to -direction. In his own lap were three blank slips folded in exactly the -same manner. - -Vixley now pressed his brow and smoothed it with both hands. "Some -fakirs will palm a blank slip and exchange it for your written one, but -you see I ain't got nothin' in my hands," he said, showing them empty. -Even as he spoke he dropped his hands into his lap, and secreted one of -his folded slips in his palm. Then he reached for one of Payson's -written questions and seemed to place it on the old man's forehead, but -quick as was the motion, he had made the substitution. - -"You hold this paper there while I go and get the slates. And keep your -mind on the question as hard as you can." - -He returned in a moment, having glanced meanwhile at Mr. Payson's first -question, while he was outside, bringing back a dozen or more slates -which he put on the book-shelf. He took off the top one and handed it -to Mr. Payson. - -"Just look at it, examine it all you want to, and then take this wet -towel, wash it off clean and dry it with the other end, please." - -As the old man did so, the Professor went to the pile and took down the -next slate. This was the first one which Flora had read, the writing -being now concealed by the thin slab which fitted neatly into the frame. -As Mr. Payson handed back the first slate, Professor Vixley, looking him -intently in the eye, said: - -"Now, can you tell me about how many years ago it was that your control -passed out? Was it five years, twenty, or how long?" - -The question was accurately timed so as to be put just as Mr. Payson -extended his hand. Vixley's eyes held the old man's in a direct gaze. -During this psychological moment while his victim was intently trying to -answer the question, the Professor, with a facile movement, put the two -slates together and handed back the same one that had been washed. - -"I should say it would be nearly thirty years--twenty-seven." - -"All right," said Vixley. "Now, take this slate and wash it off like -you did the other." The old man did so without noticing that it was the -same one he had had before. - -Vixley took back the slate when he had finished, and, with a piece of -chalk, drew diagonal lines from corner to corner upon each of the faces -of both slates. - -"That will show you that the writin' hasn't been prepared beforehand, -for you'll see that the pencil will write through the chalk, showin' -it's been done after I made these lines." - -As he held the two slates together in his hand, the false sheet from the -upper one fell into the frame of the lower. He laid the two upon the -table and took off the top one. The lower surface upon which the -writing was now exposed he took care to hold so that it could not be -seen. Next, he took the slip of paper which Mr. Payson had been -holding, substituted for it with a deft motion the written question -which he had previously palmed, and, throwing the blank into his lap, -dropped the real one, with a small fragment of slate-pencil, upon the -slate. He put the written slate on top of the other, writing down, then -asked the old man to hold it in position, laying his own fingers upon it -as well. A faint scratching was heard. It was too dark for the old man -to notice the slight motions of Vixley's finger-nail upon the surface. -After a moment he removed the top slate and showed the writing, then, -unfolded the slip. - -Mr. Payson looked at the inscription with curiosity and surprise. -"Marvelous!" he exclaimed. "Why, it's incredible. I didn't know it -could be done as simply as that. Why, all three of my questions are -answered and they haven't left my possession." - -"You seem to have a very strong control. Are the answers correct?" - -"I'll soon find out," said Mr. Payson, "if you'll raise the shades while -I look at this book." He cut the strings of a package he had brought -into the room, showed his copy of the _Astrology of the New Testament_ -and turned to page one hundred. - -"Here it is, 'Chapter IX.' It's most extraordinary, indeed! Now for -the number of my watch. Do you know, I didn't even know these answers -myself. That would tend to prove it's not mere telepathy, wouldn't it?" - -He took out his watch and opened the back covers. Upon the frame were -engraved the figures "801,101." - -"That's correct, too. Now for the last one--have you a telephone?" - -"Right down at the end of the hall." - -"If you'll excuse me a moment I'll ring up a friend of mine who will -know whether this is the right name or not." - -In five minutes he returned with an expression of wonder upon his face. -"I wanted to make sure that this couldn't be got from my mind, so I -asked a friend of mine to select a name for me. It seems that Marigold -was the name. This is a most wonderful and convincing test, Mr. Vixley; -I must say that I'm amazed." - -The Professor took his praise modestly. "Oh, I hope to do much better -for you than this after a while, Mr. Payson. The main point is, that -now we can get to work in such a way as to help you practically, without -wastin' your time on mere experiments. These test conditions is very -apt to deteriorate mediumship and I don't like to do no more of it than -is absolutely necessary to convince you of the genuineness of my -manifestations. - -"Now," he added, "before we draw down the shades again, you write down -some important question you want answered and we'll get down to -business." - -When Mr. Payson had finished writing, the medium, taking a slip of paper -from his vest pocket unobserved, held it under the table, saying: - -"Now you fold it twice, each time in half." As Payson did so, Vixley -folded his own slip in a similar manner and held it palmed in his left -hand. After drawing the shades, he said: "Now, then, will you please -hold that paper to your forehead? Not like that--here, let me show -you." - -He took the slip from Mr. Payson and dexterously substituting for it his -own duplicate, held it to his own forehead. "This way, so that it will -be in plain sight all the time." He gave the blank slip to his sitter, -who obeyed the directions. - -"I think we'll do better if there's less light," Vixley said, as he -arose to draw the shades. "You keep hold of that paper. I don't want -it to go out of your possession for a moment. You see I couldn't read -it even if I had it, it's so dark. But if you'll excuse me, I'll light -this cigar; I haven't had a smoke all day." - -As he spoke, he went to the bookcase, and standing, facing Mr. Payson, -he took a match from a box on the top and lighted the cigar which was -between his teeth. His left hand, which had already secretly unfolded -the ballot, covered the paper. He put it up with a natural gesture to -keep the match from being blown out as he lighted his cigar. The -operation took only a few seconds, but in that time, illuminated by the -match, he was able to read the words: "Will my book be a success?" He -dropped his hand, refolded the ballot with his fingers and held it -hidden. Then he took two slates from the pile. - -There are many well-known ways of slate-writing, and the sleight-of-hand -necessary in obtaining the ballots and writing the answers is simple -compared with the sort of psychological juggling in which the medium -must be an adept. Professor Vixley, however, had no need of any special -craft with the old man. Mr. Payson was by no means a skilled observer, -and, credulous and desirous of a marvel, was easily hoodwinked by -Vixley's talk. The simplest methods sufficed, and he worked with -increasing confidence, preparing his sitter's mind, till it would be -possible for the medium merely to sit at the table and write openly -under the supposititious influence of his control. - -The second experiment terminated with the appearance of the message that -Flora Flint had read in the front room, the message signed "Felicia." - -Mr. Payson read the communication with a frown. "That's bad," he said, -"I'm very sorry to find that this answer isn't favorable." - -"What's the matter?" the Professor asked sympathetically. - -"Well, you see, I may as well tell you that I'm writing a book, -Professor," said Mr. Payson, wiping his spectacles, "and, of course, I -am anxious that it should be a success. It seems from this that there -is likely to be some trouble about it--I don't quite understand how." - -Vixley tipped back in his chair with his hands in his pockets. "I -thought you looked like an intellectual-minded man. O' course, it wan't -my place to ask no questions, but when you come in I sized you up as a -party who wan't entirely devoted to a pure business life. So you've -written a book, eh? Well, I'm sure my control could help you. I'll ask -him, and see what's to be done. But for that, I think we'll be more -liable to be successful at automatic writin' than by independent -slate-writin'. It's more quicker and satisfactory all round." - -"How do you suppose the spirits can help?" said Mr. Payson. - -"Why," said Vixley, "all sorts o' ways. It's like this: I don't know -nothing about your book, but I do know what's happened before. Take -Gibbon's _Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, for instance. He -predicted that there wouldn't never be no more wars--he claimed we'd -outlived the possibility of it, and everything would be settled -peaceably. What happened? Why, Napoleon arose inside o' fifty years -and they was wars like never had been seen on earth. Now, if Gibbon had -only been able to put himself in communication with the spirit -intelligence, he wouldn't have made that mistake--the spirits would have -told him what was goin' to happen. Look at Voltaire! He went on record -by sayin' that in fifty years they wouldn't be no more churches. Now -he's a ridicule and a by-word amongst Christian people. If he'd only -consulted the spirit-plane he wouldn't have made a fool of hisself. -But, o' course, spiritualism wan't heard of then no more than Voltaire's -heard of now. Now let's say, for example, you was writin' a book on -evolution ten years ago, thoroughly believin' in Darwin's theory o' the -origin of species. Up to that time nobody believed that a new specie -had been evolved since man. But look at this here Burbank up to Santa -Rosa--he has gone to work and produced some absolutely new species, and -what's more, I predicted his success in this very room ten years ago. If -you'd written on evolution then, you might have taken advantage o' what -I could have gave you. Now, for all I know, some man may come along and -breed two different animals together, p'raps through vivisection or what -not, and develop a bran' new kind of specie in the animal world. Heart -disease and cancer and consumption are supposed by modern science to be -incurable, but I wouldn't venture to write that down in a book till I -had taken the means at my disposal o' findin' out whether they was or -wasn't." - -He arose and let up the window-shades; the level rays of the sunshine -illuminated his figure and burnished his purpling coat. He shook his -finger at Mr. Payson, who was listening open-mouthed, impressed with the -glib argument. - -"Now, my control is Theodore Parker. You've heard of him--p'raps you -knew him. You wouldn't hesitate to ask his advice if he was still on -the flesh plane, for he was a brainy man; how much more, now he's passed -out and gone beyond, into a fuller development and comprehension of the -universe! I don't know what your subject is, but whatever it is, he can -help and he will help. I'm sure o' that. It's for you to say whether -you'll avail yourself of his guidance or not. I can give you all the -tests you want, but I tell you, you're only wastin' your time, while you -might be in daily communication with one of the grandest minds this -country and this century has produced. I can get into communication -with him and give you his messages by means of automatic writin', or I -can develop you so's you can do it yourself." - -Professor Vixley's victim had ceased to struggle, and, caught -inextricably in the web so artfully woven, gazed, fascinated, into the -eyes of the spider who was preparing to suck his golden blood. - - - - - *CHAPTER XIV* - - *THE FORE-HONEYMOON* - - -Outward, across the narrow, mile-long mole, the Oakland Local, a train -of twelve coaches, swept on from block to block, beckoned by semaphores, -till it threw itself with a roar into the great train-shed upon the -Oakland pier. The locomotive stopped, throbbing and panting -rhythmically, spouting a cloud of steam that eddied among the iron -trusses of the roof. The air-brakes settled back with a long, relieved -hiss. The cars emptied streams of passengers; the ferry-station became -as populous and busy as a disturbed ant-hill. Up the broad stairs and -into the huge waiting-room the commuters poured, there to await the -boat. - -It was half-past nine in the morning. The earlier trains, laden with -clerks and stenographers and the masses of early workers, had already -relieved the traffic across the bay. The present contingent consisted -chiefly of the more well-to-do business men, ladies bent on shopping in -the city, and a scattering of sorts. Some clustered in a dense group by -the door of the gangway, the better to rush on board and capture the -favorite seats; the rest took to the settees and unfolded their morning -papers, conversed, or watched the gathering throng. - -The Overland from Chicago was already in, two hours late, and it had -contributed to the assembly its delegation of dusty, tired tourists, -laden with baggage, commercial travelers, curious and bold, with a few -emigrants in outlandish costumes, prolific in children and impedimenta. -Another roar, and the Alameda Local thundered into the shed and emptied -its lesser load. The Berkeley train had arrived also, and the -waiting-room was now well filled. - -Through the glazed front of the hall the steamer _Piedmont_ came into -view, entering the slip. It slid in quietly and was deftly tied up. -The gang-plank was lowered and its passengers disembarked, filing -through a passageway separated from the waiting throng by a fence. Then -the heavy door slipped upward, the crowd made for the entrance and -passed on board the boat. As each party stepped off the gang-plank some -one would say, "Do you want to sit outside or inside?" The continual -repetition of this question kept the after part of the deck echoing with -the murmur. - -Clytie Payson, finding all the best outside seats occupied, went into -the great open cabin and sat down. The saloon soon filled. In a moment -there was the creaking of the gang-plank drawbridge, a deep, hoarse -whistle overhead, the jangle of a bell in the engine room, and the boat -started, gathered way, and shot out into the bay. An Italian band -started playing. - -It was not long before her eyes, roving from one to another passenger, -rested upon a couple across the way. Both looked jaded and distrait. -They talked but little. The lady was crisp and fresh and glossy, in her -blue serge suit and smart hat; her form was molded almost -sumptuously--but there were soft, violet circles beneath her roaming -eyes. She leaned back in her seat; her attitude had lost, in its -California tendency to abandon, an imperceptible something of that -erect, well-held poise that such corset-modeled, white-gloved creatures -of fashion usually maintain. Clytie recognized her; it was Mrs. Page. - -The young man Clytie did not know. He was a dapper, immaculate, -pink-cheeked person, who leaned slightly nearer his companion than -custom sanctions when he spoke an occasional playful word to her. In -his gestures he often touched her arm, where, for a second his gloved -hand seemed to linger affectionately. Mrs. Page gave him in return a -flashing, ardent smile, then her eyes wandered listlessly. - -Before Mrs. Page had a chance to notice her, Clytie arose and walked -forward. Just outside the door she stopped upon the wind-swept deck for -a moment to look about her. Above Goat Island, melting into the perfect -bow of its profile, lay the crest of Tamalpais. The mountains -surrounding the bay of San Francisco were wild and terrible, with naked -brown slopes void of trees or grass. To the northwest they came down to -the very edge of the water, tumbling precipitately, seamed with gulleys, -forming the wall of the Golden Gate. Southward was smoke and haze; -forward the peninsula loomed through murk. The whole aspect of the -harbor was barren, chill, desolate. One felt that one was thousands of -miles from civilization--in a land unique, grim, isolate, sufficient -unto itself, shut off by sea and mountain from the great world. Yet it -had its own strange beauty, and that charm which, once felt, endures for -ever, the immortal lure of bigness, wideness, freedom of air and sky and -water. - -Clytie stood, holding her hat against the nimble breeze for a while, -gazing at a flock of gulls that sailed alongside the boat, circling and -screaming, then she turned and moved to the right and walked aft. - -There was a young woman sitting in an angle of the seats, by the -paddle-box. Her arm was resting on the rail and she was gazing down at -the swirling rush of water. From her chic shepherd's plaid frock, so -cunningly trimmed with red, so perfectly moulding her svelte form, it -should have been Fancy Gray, Queen of Piedra Pinta. But it was a poor, -tired Majesty, whose face was filled with infinite longing, whose -traitor mouth was lax, whose head, bent sidewise, seemed too heavy to be -held in its whilom spirited pose. She was off her guard; she had -dropped the mask she was learning so painfully to bear. - -[Illustration: It was a poor tired Majesty] - -Clytie stepped in front of her. Fancy suddenly looked up. There was a -moment when her face was like that of a child awakened from sleep, then, -in a flash Fancy was alive again. First, confusion, then a look of -pain, lastly an expectant, almost a suspicious expression passed over -her face. - -"Why, Miss Payson!" Fancy sat erect, and, by her tone, was immediately -upon the defensive, waiting to find out what her welcome might be. -"Won't you sit down?" - -"Good morning, Miss Gray!" Clytie's voice was low and sympathetic. - -Fancy took the proffered hand, grasped it for a brief moment and let it -drop. Then she waited for Clytie to give her her cue. The eyes of the -two women, having met, lingered without conflict. The serenity in -Clytie's face melted Fancy's into a smile. A faint glow of pink began to -creep up Clytie's neck and mantle her cheek. She took a seat. - -"I'm so glad I found you," she began. "I had a queer feeling that I -should meet some one pleasant, though I didn't know who it would be." - -What was it that reassured Fancy? No man could have told. But that -whatever fears she had entertained were dispelled was evident by the way -her face softened, by the way her dimples came, by the way a saucy, -amiable sprite looked from her eyes. - -"I'm sorry I'm just out of blushes," she said, rallying swiftly, "but -I'm as delighted as if I had as pretty a one as yours. Did you really -want to see me?" - -"I've been wanting to see you for some time." - -"Why?" - -"I've been thinking about you." - -"Think of your wasting your time on me! Why, any one with your brains -could think me to a finish in five minutes." - -"I wanted to tell you something." - -"I _hope_ it's something sacred," said Fancy with a twinkle in her eyes. -"I love to have people tell me their most sacred thoughts." She smiled -like a spoiled child. - -This was too much for Clytie, who laughed aloud. But she persisted. "I -hope you won't think I'm trying to patronize you--" - -"You look awfully pretty when you're patronizing; I don't mind it a -bit." - -"I'm afraid it's no use, you're incorrigible." - -"That's a dandy word. I never thought of that. May I use it?" - -"_Will_ you be serious?" - -"You mustn't mind me," Fancy said. "I never could do that running throb -in my voice. I've lost lots of things by not being able to cry to -order. But I'll listen. What is it?" - -"I know you've left Mr. Granthope's office." - -"Oh, yes. I got tired of the routine there. It's awful to sit and -watch women who come to hear themselves talked about. It got on my -nerves. So I told Frank I'd have to quit or tell them the straight -truth about themselves." - -Clytie looked at her curiously for a moment. Fancy turned away from her -glance. Clytie went on: "I wanted to see if I couldn't get you a -position--perhaps with my father." - -"Thank you, but I guess not." Fancy cast her eyes down. "I don't care -to go to work just yet--I'm going to drift a while--it's awfully kind of -you, though." - -"Can't you come and stay with me a while? I thought I might teach you -bookbinding and we could work together." Clytie herself was getting -somewhat embarrassed. - -Fancy shook her head. "Sometime I'll come and see you--but not now." - -"Well, since Mr. Granthope has given up his business--" - -Fancy changed in an instant; her frivolous manner fell off. She stared -at Clytie in surprise. - -"Oh! I didn't know that. _Has_ he?" - -"Yes, he stopped last week." - -Fancy's gaze drifted off to seaward. She was fighting something -mentally. She turned her head away also. Finally she said, "I think I -understand." - -"I think not, quite," Clytie answered softly. - -Fancy's eyes flashed back at her, brimming. "He gave it up on account -of _you_, Miss Payson, I'm sure." - -"He did, in a way, but it was not altogether my doing." - -"I know!" Fancy leaned her head on her hand wearily. "You did for him -what I never could do." - -"I'm glad you wanted it." Clytie touched Fancy's hand, as it lay limp -in her lap. - -Instead of taking it, Fancy moved hers gently away. Then she roused -herself. "Oh, I _am_ glad! I'm _so_ glad, Miss Payson. He was too -good for that--I always told him so. But you are the only woman who -could have done that for him!" - -"Indeed, you mustn't think that I did it. He did it for himself." - -Fancy smiled wistfully. "I know Frank Granthope. And I know the sort of -women he knew. I was one of them. And I could do nothing--nothing to -help him!" - -"Ah, I don't believe it! You _have_ helped him, I'm sure. I know by -the way you speak now." - -"Oh, I know what you think!" Fancy retorted impetuously. "You think -that I am--that I was--in love with him. That's not true, Miss Payson, -really it isn't. I never was. We were good friends, that's all. I'm -not suffering from a broken heart or pining away, or anything like that. -No secret sorrow for mine! But what's the use of trying to explain! It -never does any good. I'm glad he's found a woman who's square and who's -a thoroughbred like you! Why, Miss Payson, you can _make_ him! I saw -that long ago!" - -She spoke in a hurried frenzy of denial. She seemed to feel the -inadequacy of it in Clytie's eyes, however, and nerved herself again. - -"You don't believe it, Miss Payson, but it's true! I give you my word -that he's perfectly free. Of course, there was a sort of flirtation at -first, there always is, you know, but I wasn't in earnest at all! I'm -too afraid of Frank--I'm not in his class. And I know he's in love with -you--I saw it from the first." - -"How _could_ he ever help loving such a frank, courageous, irresistible -girl as you!" Clytie wondered. - -"Miss Payson," Fancy said, avoiding her eyes, "there's a man I'm simply -crazy about--I wish I could tell you more, but I can't explain. I never -explain. But you can be sure that there's nothing doing with Frank, at -any rate. I didn't intend to breathe it to a soul, but I know I can -trust you--I'm really--" she drew a quick breath and her eyelids -fluttered--"I'm--engaged, Miss Payson!" - -Clytie was wearing, that day, a little gold chain from which hung a tiny -swastika. As she listened, she unfastened it and took it off and threw -it about Fancy's neck. Fancy stopped in surprise. - -"Won't you let me give you this?" Clytie said eagerly. "Don't ask me -why--I want you to have it and keep it for my sake. You know I have -more jewelry than I can wear, but I have always been very fond of this -little chain. It belonged to my mother." - -Fancy's eyes filled suddenly and her lips parted. Her hand flew up to -caress the chain affectionately. Then she cast down her eyes and a timid -smile trembled on her lips. - -"I accept!" said Fancy Gray. - -As she looked off at the water she lifted the chain softly to her lips -and kissed it. Then, loosening the collar of her waist, she allowed the -chain to drop inside to hang touching her warm pink breast. - -Then slowly she turned her head and showed Clytie a new expression, -childlike, demure, embarrassed. Her eyes, fluttering, went from Clytie's -eyes to Clytie's hair, to her slender, gracile hands. Then, with a -wistful emphasis, she said: - -"Miss Payson, do you think I'm pretty?" - -There was no need, this time, for her to define the adjective. - -"Do you want me to tell you exactly?" Clytie answered. "I never saw a -woman yet to whom I couldn't tell her best points better than she could -herself." - -Fancy nestled a little nearer, warming herself at Clytie's smile. "I -guess I can stand it. I'll try to be brave," she said. - -Clytie looked her over critically. - -"First, I'd say that your ears are the most deliciously shaped, -cream-white, and the lobes are pure pink with a dab of carmine laid on -as if with a brush. The hair behind them has curls like little claws -clutching at your neck--and I don't blame them! Your cheeks look as if -a rose-leaf had just been pressed against them." - -"I believe I'm going to get the truth at last," Fancy murmured. "Oh, it -takes a woman, don't it!" In spite of this jaunty speech the pink had -grown to scarlet in her cheeks, and she turned her eyes away in a -delighted, flattered embarrassment. - -"Then, your mouth has a charming little dent at each corner, and your -lips curve in a perfect bow, and the nick above is just deep and strong -enough for a baby to want to put his little finger into. Your nose is -fine and straight and delicate--I can see the light through the bridge -of it, the skin is so transparent--like mother-o'-pearl. Your eyes are -clear and child-like and the rarest, deepest, pellucid brown. There's a -moist purple shadow above them, and a warmer brown tone below. Your -lids crinkle and narrow your eyes like a kitten's. Your hands are as -dewy-delicate as flowers--white above, faint rose in the palm, deepening -almost to strawberry in the finger-tips." - -Fancy had laid her head on her arm, upon the railing. When she at last -lifted her eyes the tears trickled comically down her cheeks. "That's -the first time a woman ever feazed me!" she said, snuffing, and feeling -for her handkerchief. "I'll have to appoint you Court Flatterer!" She -explained the sovereignty that she enjoyed amongst the Pintos. Clytie, -amused, accepted the distinction conferred upon her. - -Their talk ran on till the boat passed under the lee of Goat Island. It -rose, a bare, bleak slope of hillside on the starboard side. Fancy -watched the waters curdling below. - -"Ugh!" she exclaimed. "It looks cold, don't it! I'd hate to be down -there; it's so wet. Isn't it funny that suicides always jump overboard -right opposite Goat Island? There seems to be some fascination about -this place. And the bodies are never found. I suppose they drift out -through the Gate. The tide runs awfully strong here, they say." - -She removed her gaze with an effort, adding, "I hate to think of it! -Let's come forward." - -They rose and went to the space of deck below the pilot-house and stood -by the rail. Already the tourists and emigrants were there, eager for a -first glimpse of the city. San Francisco stretched before them, a long, -pearl-gray peninsula, its profile undulating in a continuous series of -hills. Along the water front was a melee of shipping; behind, the -houses rose to the heaving, irregular sky-line where the blue was deep -and cloudless. The streets showed as gashes, blocking the town off into -parallel divisions. A few tall towers broke the monotony of the huddled, -colorless buildings. They passed a ferry-boat bound for Oakland, and a -foreign man-of-war lying at anchor, nosed by busy launches. The -_Piedmont_ rang down to half-speed, then the vibrations of the paddle -wheels stopped as she shot into the slip. There was a surge of -back-water, a rattling of chains and ratchets, the cables were fastened -and the apron lowered. The crowd surged forward and poured off the boat. -At the front of the Ferry Building Fancy stopped, offering her hand. - -"Good-by," she said genially. "You've done me more good than a Picon -punch. I'm going home to wear my looking-glass out." - -"You'll never see half I do," Clytie replied, shaking her head. - -"That's because I haven't got such fine eyes," countered Fancy. - -"I think mine are never so pretty as when they have a little image of -you in them." - -Fancy gave up the duel. "Well, I guess I'd better go quick before you -raise that! You play nothing but blue chips, and I can't keep up!" - -Clytie walked up Market Street alone. She turned into Geary Street at -the group of tall newspaper buildings by Lotta's fountain, and in ten -minutes was knocking at Granthope's office door. There being no -response she descended the stairs, crossed the street and went into the -square to wait for him upon a bench beside the soldiers' monument. - -There were two young women at the other end of the seat. One, scarcely -more than a girl, was pretty, in a demure, timid way; she was freckled -and tanned, her clothes were simple and neat. The other was of a -coarser grain, full-lipped, large-handed, painted and powdered, with -hard eyes and large features. She wore several cheap rings, and her -finery made her soiled and wrinkled garments look still more vulgar. -Clytie gave the two a glance and took no further interest in them until -she caught the mention of Granthope's name. - -She turned, astonished, to see the younger woman looking seriously at -the other. There was a charming earnestness in her face, and, though -her lower lip drooped tremulously, it was not weak; nor was her chin, -nor her nose, nor the gracefully reliant poise of her head. - -"You ought to go see him, Kate!" she was saying. "I tell you he's a -wonder! Why, if I hadn't gone there I don't know where I'd be now. I -know one thing, I wouldn't be married. Why, when Bill was out in the -Philippines and didn't write, I thought I'd lay down and die! I waited -about two months, and then I took five dollars I saved up for one of -them automobile coats they was all wearing, and I went to see Granthope. -What d'you think?--he wouldn't take a cent off me! That's the kind of a -man Granthope is! He said it would be all right and Bill would come back -and marry me. But I tell you, I had to do most of the courting!" - -"You did, did you? Do you mean to say you run after a man like -that--without any nose? I never see such a face in my life! If he'd -only wear a patch or something it wouldn't be so bad," commented her -companion. - -"Bill wouldn't do it; he's too proud. Nobody's ashamed of having only -one leg or one arm, why should they be of having a nose gone?" - -"What did you think when you first see him, though? Wan't it -disgusting, kind of?" her companion asked, making a sour face. - -"Why, I was so proud of him that I didn't see anything but a man who -loved me and who had fought for his country! But it was some time -before I _did_ see him, though. He did his best not to let me." - -"How did you ever find him?" - -"Why, finally Mr. Granthope located Bill down at Santa Barbara. He was -working as a gardener on a place a little ways out of town. Bill's -captain give me the money to get down there. I guess I cried pretty -near all the way, thinking of Bill hiding out like a yellow dog without -any friends. Finally I found the place. Bill was living up in a room -over the stable." - -She paused. "Go on!" said her companion. The woman's voice had changed -somewhat. There was something more than curiosity in its tone. -Fleurette was looking down, now, fingering her jacket. Suddenly she -began to breathe heavily. - -"Bill had a little dog named Dot. A fox terrier, it was. Bill says he -thought it was the only living thing that didn't despise him on account -of his looks. He was awful fond of Dot. So was I, you bet. Dot's dead, -now." She put a handkerchief to her eyes. - -"Well, I was dead tired. I'd walked all the way from the station. I -was pretty hungry, too. I couldn't afford to get dinner on the train, -and I couldn't wait to stop to eat in Santa Barbara. And I was good and -trembly--because--well, I hadn't seen Bill for over a year. I stumbled -up the stairs and knocked on the door, and when Bill heard my voice he -wouldn't let me in. I heard him groan--O, God! it almost broke my -heart! He called through the door for me to go away. He said he didn't -love me any more. Of course I knew he was lying. I didn't know what to -do. Bill's got an awful strong will. I didn't know how to make him -believe I didn't care how he looked. I just sat down on the stairs and -begun to cry. Then Dot begun to whine and scratch on the door. Bill -couldn't stand _that_. He swore at him and kicked him. It was the only -time he ever struck him, but Dot _wouldn't_ budge and kept scratching on -the door. It was terrible. So Bill wrapped a towel round his face and -opened the door. I just fell in his arms. But he put me away from him -and said he wouldn't curse my life, and that I must go away." - -The other girl was staring at her, awed. "What did you do?" she -whispered. - -"Oh, I ran up to him again, and pulled off the towel and I kissed him." -She spoke almost impersonally. - -Kate kindled, now. "Oh, Fleurette, did you? Gee, you were game!" She -giggled somewhat hysterically. "Lucky his mouth wasn't shot off, wasn't -it?" - -Fleurette gazed off across the green and spoke as to one who knew not of -life's realities, saying, simply: - -"Oh, I didn't kiss him on the mouth, Kate--there was plenty of time for -that! I kissed him right where that Moro bullet had wounded him!" - -Kate shook her head slowly. "I guess you done right!" she said. Then, -"Say, I'd like to see Bill again, Fleurette." - -Clytie arose, gave the girl one swift glance as she left, and walked -away. She had met two heroines that day, and her nerves were vibrating -like tense strings. She walked up and down the square, keeping her eyes -on Granthope's doorway. - -In half an hour she saw him striding up Geary Street. She followed him -rapidly, ran up the stairs and knocked again at his door. He opened it -and took her instantly into his arms. She lay there without speaking, -and there was a blessed interval of silence after his kiss. - -The stimulating newness of possession thrilled him. She was still -strange, mysterious, of a different caste, and there was something -deliriously fearful in this familiarity as she lay captive, unresisting, -trembling in his embrace. He had set his trap for a sparrow and caught -a bird of paradise. He knew his power over her, now, though he dared -not test it. He dreaded to break the spell of her wonderful -condescension, her royal grace and favor. He was in no hurry to remove -her crown and scepter; the piquancy of his romance fascinated him. - -She broke away from him with a gentle insistence, and looked at him, -rosy and smiling. "I'm afraid I'm just like all other women, after -all--and I'm glad of it!" she confessed, as she readjusted her hat and -sank into the arm-chair to look up at him fondly. - -"I don't suppose you realize how strange it seems for me to act this -way?" she said. "No man has ever held me in his arms before. I have -never thought of the possibility of it--even with you. All that sort of -demonstration has been inhibited--I have always wondered if I had any -passion in me. Of course, when I kissed you the other time it was -different--it was the seal of a compact. But this time it seemed so -natural that I didn't think. This is the end of my virginal serenity -for ever. I think you have awakened me at last!" - -She broke into happy laughter. "Did I do it well, dear? I'm ashamed to -think how inexperienced I am--and you have known so many cleverer women. -If you call me amateurish, I'll slay you! But I think I shall be an apt -pupil, though. Francis, stop laughing at me, or I'll go home!" - -Her naivete was breaking up that glorified seraphic vision he had held -of her and put her more nearly on his level, or, perhaps, raised him to -her. He let his wonder fade slowly. However, with all his customary -audacity he could not yet match her mood. She saw his reserve and took a -woman's delight in wooing him. - -"Must I convince you that I am flesh and blood?" she exclaimed with -spirit. "And you--the lady-killer--the hero of a hundred victories--you -don't seem to know that you have me at your feet! Nor how proud I am of -it!" - -Then she jumped up and took his hands in hers softly. "You must be very -good to me, Francis, dear, for I'm simple and ignorant compared to the -women you've known, I suppose. But I'm a woman, after all. I don't -want to be worshiped. I want the tenderness of an honest man's love, -such as other women have. I want my divine birthright. I've been aloof -from men all my life. That doesn't make me any less desirable, does it? -I've never met a man who answered my demands. You do, or you will -before I'm through with you. Don't think I'm going to be all moonshine -and vapors. I'm going to love you till stars dance in the heavens! -That's what you get for wakening me, my friend! I've been asleep, -floating in dreams. I want a man's strength and chivalry and audacity -and vigor and romance, instead of the painted shadows I've known. -Aren't you afraid of me?" She dropped her head to his shoulder. - -He needed no further hint. He put away her halo and her crown, he drew -the ermine from her, and the vision in her eyes was made manifest. But -it was still too new for her to more than sip at the cup of delight; she -would take her happiness by epicurean inches. So she slid away and -evaded him, putting the chair half-mockingly between them. - -"My father has forbidden me to come down here to see you," she said. -"It's really quite romantic. But of course I told him I should come, -nevertheless, so we can't quite call it clandestine. He'll never dare -ask me if I've been here. He's quite afraid of me, when I insist upon -having my own way." - -"Have you said anything about Madam Spoll and Vixley to him?" - -"Yes, but that's no use. They certainly seem to have given him some -wonderful tests--I don't see how they could have done so well--and he's -absolutely convinced. I don't see what we can do, unless we wait for -them to go too far and arouse his suspicions. I can't think he's -feeble-minded. They're making him pay, though that's the least of the -matter." - -"I have had an idea that I might get hold of one of the gang--a Doctor -Masterson--and induce him to sell them out. He's a turncoat, and if he -only knows enough about their game he could be bribed." - -"I must leave it to you, Francis. I don't like that method, exactly, -but we must do what we can. Perhaps it will settle itself. We can do -nothing yet, at any rate. To-day I've come down to ask you to invite me -to lunch, please!" - -"With pleasure--only, if I must confess--I don't know that I can offer -you a very good one. Wait I'll see how much money I have left." He -felt doubtfully in his pocket, and added, "Oh, that's all right, we can -go to the Palace." - -Clytie was instantly suspicious. "How much have you?" - -"Quite enough." - -"Answer me, sir!" - -"About twelve dollars." - -She gasped. "Do you mean to say that's _all_ you have left?" - -"Everything. But my rent is paid for a month in advance." - -"Have you any debts?" - -"Naturally. Two hundred dollars or so, that's all." - -She came up to him and worked her finger into his buttonhole. "Francis -Granthope," she said solemnly, "are you really--ruined?" Her eyes -danced. - -"Oh, I've got enough junk in my chamber to pay that off, I expect, but -it won't leave me exactly affluent." - -She burst into a delicious chime of laughter. "Why, it's positively -melodramatic, isn't it? I never happened to know any one who was -actually bankrupt before. Of course it must happen, sometimes, but -somehow I thought people could always raise some money, even if they had -to scrimp. How exciting it is--aren't you nervous about it? Why, I'd -be frightened to death! And yet it seems terribly amusing!" - -He laughed with her. "I can't seem to take it very seriously, while -you're with me, at any rate. To tell the truth, I haven't begun to think -about it yet. Of course my fees have always been in cash, and -consequently there's nothing coming in. And I've always spent every -cent I made, and a little more. But I've been broke before, and it -doesn't alarm me, except that, of course, I can't depend upon living by -my wits in quite the same way as I would have, if I hadn't chucked that -sort of thing. If I didn't care how I did it, I suppose I could make a -hundred or so a week easily enough." - -She listened and grew more serious. "Of course that's all over. But -you've got to have money! Let's see what I have with me." She took her -purse from her bag and emptied it upon the desk. Several ten- and -twenty-dollar gold pieces rolled out. - -Granthope shook his head sharply. "No, don't do that, please! I can't -take anything, even as a loan, you know. I can't spend a cent I haven't -honestly earned--I never shall again, if I have to starve, which I don't -intend to do, either. You must know that." - -"But from me--isn't that different?" - -"Not even from you!" - -"Of course you mustn't. I see. It's better not to, yet somehow I could -have forgiven you if you had let me help a little at first. I don't -exactly see how you're going to live. Why, it's awful, when you come to -think of it, isn't it? It really is serious. What a goose I've been! -I'm afraid I shall worry about you now. Well, you'll have to have lunch -with _me_ to-day, anyway. That's only fair, if I invite you." - -"On the contrary, I'm going to invite you to share my humble meal." - -"All right; let's be reckless then, if you _must_ be proud and show off. -It will be fun. I never economized in my life, but now I'm going to -show you how. Hand over all your wealth, please." - -She counted it out upon the desk, a five dollar piece, six silver -dollars and two halves and a few nickels. "Now," she said, "how long -can we make this last--a week?" - -"I've lived for three weeks on that much, often, and paid for my room." - -"Something's bound to happen within ten days, I'm sure. If you see -nothing ahead at the end of a week, I'll put you on half-rations, and -till then I'll allow you a dollar a day. Shall I keep it for you?" - -He was delighted to have a treasurer. - -"Now we'll take fifty cents and go to some nice dairy place and sit on a -stool." - -But, as he insisted upon a place where they could talk in quiet, they -went, instead, to a shady little restaurant around the corner, and there -they seriously discussed his prospects. - -He did so whimsically. It was really absurd that he, in full health, -six feet high and a hundred and seventy pounds in weight, at -twenty-eight, could do nothing, so far as he knew, to support himself -honestly. He had been a parasite upon the vanity of fools. After much -casting about for ideas, she sent for an _Examiner_ and began to search -through the "Help Wanted; Male" column. - -The Barber's College she rejected first, although he pointed out the -advantageous fact that it offered "wages while learning." Canvassing -for books or watches they both agreed was not interesting enough. -Boot-black--he raised his eyebrows in consideration, she shook her head -energetically; it was too conspicuous, with these open-air sidewalk -stands. She turned up her nose, also, at the idea of his distributing -circulars. The Marine Corps tempted him next--but no, she couldn't -think of sparing him for three years, not to speak of a girl in every -port. She asked him what a job-press feeder was; he didn't know, but he -was sure he couldn't do it--it would be all he could do to feed himself. -Profiler--if he could make as good a profile as Clytie's now, he might -get that job. But it appeared to be something connected with a -machine-shop. He looked at his white hands and smiled. Weavers, -warpers and winders--equally mysterious and impossible. The rest of the -wants were for mechanics and tradesmen. Clytie dropped the paper, -disappointed. - -He declined to let the matter disturb him, as yet. He had no fear of the -future, and the present was too charming not to be enjoyed to the full. - -"What I've always wanted to do," he said, "is to study medicine. If I -could get money enough ahead to put myself through a medical school, I -wouldn't mind beginning even at my age. I think I'm fitted for that, -for I've cultivated my powers of observation and I know a good deal -about human nature, and I've read everything I could lay my hands on. -Some day I shall try that." - -"Very well, Doctor Granthope, I shall make up my mind to being a -doctor's wife, and being rung up at all hours, and being alone half the -time." - -"I wasn't aware that I had proposed yet," he answered jocosely. - -"Why, people don't propose, now, do they? Not real people. What a -Bromide you are!" she laughed joyously. - -"I'll have to disprove that. Let's spend the rest of the afternoon out -of doors and get acquainted! Then when I have a good chance I'll ask if -you'll be my wife. Do you realize how little we know of one another? -It's ridiculous. Why, you may have a middle name for all I know! You -may eat sugar on canteloupe or vinegar on your oysters; you may be an -extraordinary mimic; you may have escaped sudden death; you may have -been engaged when you were seventeen; you may sulk; you may mispronounce -my favorite words! How do I know but you like magenta and Germans and -canary birds, and wear Jaegers; and object to profanity and nicknames, -and say 'well-read' and read the _Philistine_!" - -"Good Lord, deliver us! That's a devil's liturgy!" In denial of his -categories she held him out her palm. "Oh, you should know me by that -right hand! You're supposed to be a trained observer of symptoms and -stigmata. _You're_ the one who needs investigation! Do you realize -what a risk I am running? Why, I haven't yet heard you speak to a dog, -or answer a beggar, or seen you eat a banana, or watch a vaudeville -show--and all four are necessary before I really know you." - -She bent her head in mock humility and looked up at him from beneath her -golden lashes. "You needn't be afraid, Francis; if you tell me what -your rules are, I'll obey them. If you _really_ want me to wear -magenta, I shall be terribly fond of it, and I shall only think I've -been stupid all my life to loathe it, and be so glad to learn. But I -hope you don't!" - -"If you'll allow me five cents for dessert," he said as seriously, "I'll -order bananas, at the risk of losing you for ever." - -They had begun now to revel in the piquancy of the situation. Their -meetings had, up to this time, seemed fatal in their dramatic sequence, -fraught with meaning, working steadily up to the climax in the studio. -There had been few scenes between them, but those scenes had been -cumulative in feeling. They had played their parts like actors in a play -of destiny, a play whose plot had been closely knit and esthetically -economical in incident and dialogue, each act developing logically the -previous situation. Now that the tension was released, and the reaction -had come after an histrionic catastrophe, each looked at the other with -new eyes, seeking the living person under the tragic mask. - -In this delightful pursuit they came upon such fantastic surprises, such -rare coincidences, such lovely similarities of whim and taste and -prejudice, and, above all, such a rare harmony in their points of view -on life, that their talk was as exciting as if they had just met for the -first time. The talk ran on, back and forth, lively with continual -revelation. It came out, not in dominating trends of thought, or -principled opinions, but in many charming lesser exemplifications of -their mutual fastidiousness. She reached for a plate, and his hand was -outstretched to give it to her at precisely the same instant--their -fingers touched, and their eyes spoke in delighted surprise. He -discovered that she, like himself, took no sugar in her coffee, and on -that consanguinity of taste an imaginative structure arose, to be -destroyed with equal delight when he found that she was resisting a -temptation to use cream. She quoted spontaneously a line from Stevenson -that, for no reason whatever, he had always loved: "For to my mind one -thing is as good as another in this world, and a shoe of a horse will -do." She knew his language, he fulfilled her test. Such were their -tiny psychological romances at table. - -They had reversed the usual order of progression in their friendship, or -rather Fate had reversed it for them. Had they become betrothed in the -ancient manner without previous knowledge of one another, their position -could have been no more alluring and delicate, for, strangers physically -and, to an extent, mentally, their intimacy of spirit was as certain and -irrevocable as a blood relationship. They played with a series of -little embarrassments. - -To-day they had changed their characteristic parts; he was timid, as he -had never been timid with women. She was bold, as she had never been -bold with men. The primitive woman had come to life in her. They were, -however, both of that caste which can notice, analyze and discuss the -subtleties of such a condition while still enjoying it to the full. It -delighted them to glean the nuances and overtones of that harmony. It -was a new experience to Granthope to be with one who understood and was -sensitive to the secondary and tertiary thrills of delight without -having become hyper-refined out of vibration with the primal note of -passion. That sharing of the wonderful first fruits with her, mentally -as well as physically and spiritually, kept his appetite for her whetted -to a keen edge. He could not get enough of her from sight or hearing, -and each touch of her hand became a perilously exciting event, a little -voyage of poetic adventure. - -They were both learning swiftly the art of loving, but, though one goes -far in the first sensational lessons, one can not go all the way, no -matter how reckless is the attempt. Passion has to be adjusted to -tenderness, and affection to experience, or there is discord. For her, -perhaps, that love held more of faery, more freshness and delicious -abandon, more mystery, for her nerves had never been dulled by contact; -but for him there were newer and truer wonders as well. He had taken -another degree in sentiment, and the initiation was as marvelous for -him, an apprentice, as for her, a neophyte. And, in that sacred, secret -lodge, when the time came, she would jump in a single intuitive moment -to his level and surpass him. - -Already she was tuned to the emotional pitch; she would notice every -false move, every mistake in his devotion, as well as if she had been -with him past-master in the rites of love. She could already teach him, -and already she began to hold him back sensitively, to linger over every -transient mood of feeling, every minor phase which women, in that stage -between wooing and winning, so care to taste to the last sweet drop. -Every reflex, every echo, she would bid him answer to, indefinitely -prolonging, now that she was sure of him, the fineness of the reward of -her moment, delaying the definite end. He had taught her the rapture of -a caress--she would teach him the excitement of a smile, a tone, a -gesture. - -They lingered long at the table and then went forth into the sun. The -cable-car carried them, still bantering, to the gate of the Presidio, -and they set out rollicking across the golf-links. The open downs -stretched in front of them in long, sweeping lines, like the ground -swells of the sea, skirted to the north by groves of cypress and -eucalyptus trees. Beyond, to the west, the ground grew sandy as it -approached the ocean, and from that direction a sea-breeze sailed, salt -and strong. Behind them was Lone Mountain, with its huge cross on top, -and from there in a scattering quadrant a multitude of little houses, -the outskirts of the city, skirmished towards the park. The turf was -hard and smooth as a carpet, burned, here and there, in patches of -black, but elsewhere of a pastel green, colored by the hardier weeds -that had sustained the drought and fought their way through the matted, -sunburned stalks of dry grass. - -Dipping down through a wide, sandy hollow, tangled with fuzzy -undergrowth, they climbed up again, making for a shoulder of the hill -where the road curved sharply round the summit. They were alone in the -world, now; no one was in sight, at least, and the glory of this free -space of earth and air brought them as near to one another as if they -had regained childhood. Clytie's hat was off, and her hair wantoned -over her forehead and neck. She gave him her joyous laughter -unrestrained, and he listened as to a song, and attempted by every wile -he knew to provoke it again and again. If she had been high-priestess -before, now she was pixie, and he was, at first, almost as afraid of her -in this new guise. He explored a new world with her, as Adam did with -Eve. As Adam did with Eve, he marveled at her. - -It came to him, as they walked, that what had kept them apart, mentally, -was an odd lack of humor. He saw how his whole life had been a pose -towards himself as well as towards the world, repressing what now, the -costume and custom gone, would come forth bubbling without care. He had -kept a straight face so long! What mirth he had felt, in presence of -his dupes, had been strained fine, escaping in the corner of a smile, -while he fashioned his glib phrases. It had been a preacher's sobriety, -the sedateness of priest-craft, aging him prematurely. She held him her -hands now down the years, back to decent, cleanly fun. To his surprise -he found that he could give full vent to it. He could laugh aloud, and -need not study effects and poses; he need not impress her. His wit was -clumsy; it even approached silliness, in its first runaway impulse, but -he at least lost his self-consciousness. He followed her merriment, and -they discovered nonsense together. - -So, jollying, they tramped up to the road and came suddenly upon the -sea, flaming, peacock blue, at the foot of the cliff which fell almost -vertically at their feet. Across the dancing waves, from a coast like -Norway's, Point Bonita arose, guarding the Golden Gate. At the end of a -semicircular cove to their left a ragged cliff jutted into the channel; -behind its promontory the hills rolled back. - -She gave a cry of joy and happiness and sat down on the verge of the -bluff to feast upon the view. He dropped beside her and took her hand. -An automobile whirred past them and she did not flinch. There he -underwent a revulsion of feeling. - -[Illustration: He dropped beside her and took her hand] - -"How can you love me?" he said bitterly. "What good am I? I have no -capacity, no prospects, no purpose, even! I am a mere negative, and if -I loved you I should free you from the incubus." - -"Do you recall reading the palm of a girl whose lover in the Philippines -refused to write to her?" she asked. "It happened about the time I -first knew you, I think." - -He nodded, watching a tug towing a bark out through the Gate, and she -told him what she had heard of Fleurette's story that morning. It was -no slight relief to him to think that he had helped some one, though his -assistance had been based upon deceit. - -"Don't you see?" she said. "Don't you understand how women love? It -makes no difference how poor or how dishonored a man may be, if she -loves him her happiness must be with him." - -"Oh, a physical deformity is easy enough to forget. But how about a -moral one? You'll be the wife of an outcast." - -"If you refused to accept my love, if you left me, now, you would be -inflicting a far greater pain than any gossip could ever give me." - -"The mere problem of living appals me," he went on gloomily. "I would -never think twice of it, if I were alone. But you know what a coward -marriage makes of one." - -She laughed in his face. "I'll be your first patient, Doctor Granthope, -and I'll pay you well!" - -"If there was some way of getting that money of Madam Grant's. I've -never even thought of trying to claim it, but perhaps I might go up to -Stockton and inquire about it. Of course, there's no fear of being -accused of stealing it, now. But even if I had it, I don't know whether -or not it would be right to use it myself." - -"You might at least borrow it for a while, but for my own part I'm -convinced that it's yours. There's no reason why the bank should have -the use of it for nothing. I wish we could clear up that matter of -Madam Grant." - -They set out again, she with a buoyant tread, willowy and strong. It -was not till her muscles relaxed that her characteristic, dreamy languor -was apparent, and this trait was slowly disappearing under the influence -of the new interest in her life. It was as if she had found, now, what -she, in her former quiescent moods, had been watching and waiting for, -and Granthope's presence stimulated her with energy. She was almost -coquettish with him at times, now, the mood alternating with a noble -frankness, the boldness of a gambler who has cast all hardily upon a -single stroke. She was not afraid of being seen with him. She gave him -herself in every word and glance. A casual observer could have read her -fondness for him. - -They went along the road, skirting the water, past the battery -emplacements and disappearing guns, over a low hill toward the Fort. -From this side the Bay opened to them, and beyond lay line on line of -mountains, growing hazier in the distance, to the north and east. They -had regained their spirits with this exercise, and talked again freely -as boy and girl. He noticed with amusement and delight how she edged, -unconsciously, nearer and nearer him. If he crossed the road, she came -to him, without perceiving the regularity of it, as the armature comes -to the magnet. She nearly forced him into the wall, or off the walk, in -her unthinking pursuit of him, so strongly he attracted her. She -blushed furiously when he spoke of it--it was so droll that he could not -help mentioning it--but that comment did not cure her. She was over by -his side, rubbing elbows as unaffectedly the next instant. How could -she help it, when he kept his eyes on her as he did? she said. So, -along the shore by the Life Saving Station, up to the parade ground and -the barracks, then by a climb up the steep, narrow, tree-grown path to -the corner gate of the reservation they sported. - -That was the first of a series of outings they had together that week. -The Golden Gate Park, Sutro's forest and the beach were each explored in -turn, and while still within the limits of the city they tasted of -country, mountain and shore, and let the days fly by. Clytie brought -the luncheon, and they ate it, picnic fashion, under the blue sky. She -kept strict account of his finances, and as his small capital dwindled -they came back to his plans for the future. He met her, one day, with -news. - -"I think I shall have to go to work, after all," he said. "I've got a -position." - -She congratulated him, not without a shade of sorrow that their holidays -were to end. - -"It's too much like my old work to be very proud of, but it's a step up. -It's founded on vanity, but this time I shall exploit my own instead of -others'. I'm going on the stage. I've found my name is worth -something." - -She was a little disappointed and he was not surprised. "Oh, I'll soon -become unbearable, I suppose. Most of the time I don't spend in front of -the make-up glass looking at myself, I'll spend being looked at, trying -to propitiate an audience. It's a school of egoism. But at least my -pose will be honest. I saw the stage manager of the _Alcazar_, and I'm -going to begin to rehearse next Monday." - -He spoke banteringly, but she felt the truth of his jests. Still, it -would provide for the present. It would make him more than ever -notorious--but it was better than idleness. - -The next day at ten o'clock she appeared at the studio to spend the day -with him. It was Wednesday, and they were anxious to make the most of -what time remained. - -Except for his bed, table and bureau, his chamber was empty now, all his -effects having been sold at auction. The sum received barely sufficed -to pay off his debts. The studio, too, was bare, and placards hung -outside both doors indicating that the premises were to let. The little -office, however, was left as usual, except for the casts of hands, put -away in the closet, and in this room they stayed by the open fire. - -He was looking over his card catalogue as she entered. He had conceived -the plan of writing a book on palmistry along new lines, in which he -might embody his observations and theories. His aim was to attempt to -correlate chirography, chiromancy, phrenology, physiognomy and all those -sciences and pseudo-sciences which seek to interpret character through -specialized individual characteristics, and to trace the evidences from -one to another, showing how each element or indication would recur in -every manifestation of a person's individuality, and how one symptom -might be inferred and corroborated by another. It would take time and -trouble, but he could spend his leisure upon it. The plan was tentative -and hypothetical, but so suggestive that he was becoming interested in -proving its verification. Clytie was enthusiastic about the book and -desirous of helping him. He was becoming less afraid of her, and more -sure of himself, after their days together, and he greeted her boldly -enough, now. Yet there was still a fascinating novelty in his -possession of her that made his familiarity seem like recklessness. Not -for her, however. Once having given him her lips she could never refuse -them again, nor could she longer think the action strange. - -She took off her coat and hat, tucked in an errant curl or two over her -ears and seated herself luxuriously in the arm-chair. As she had played -with him, so now she worked with him, arranging his notes, dictating for -him to write, or stopping to discuss the subject. She was too adorable -in all this assumption of importance and seriousness for him not to -interrupt her occupation more than once, for which diversion of her -attention he was sent back promptly to his desk. The business kept them -so employed for two hours, when she opened her package, brought forth -their luncheon and brewed a pot of tea on the hearth. - -"Francis," she said, after that was over, "do you know we are actually -becoming acquainted? Isn't it too bad!" - -"Don't you enjoy the process?" - -"Decidedly I do. That's why I regret that it must soon be over." - -"I doubt if we'll ever finish--if we do, it will be still more -delightful to know you. And this process brings us toward that -beautiful consummation." - -"Yes, but this part is so pleasant. I hate to see it go. I want to -roll it over on my tongue. Now, every word you say is a revelation and -a surprise--a surprise that I have been anticipating all my life, if -you'll pardon the bull. It's like unwrapping a mummy--I get excitedly -nearer and nearer my ideal of you." - -"But there's no satisfaction in opening doors if one can't go in." - -"Ah, there's the immortal difference between a man and a woman! Most -men want a marvel, patent and notorious. They want to come to the end -of the rainbow and find the pot of gold; that's all, whether that means -a kiss or a marriage. Women enjoy every step of the journey. Men think -of nothing but fulfilment, women of achievement. Men care only for the -black art of the Indian fakir who makes a grain of wheat grow to full -maturity in a few minutes. Women appreciate the wonder of the natural -development of that same little seed in the warm bosom of the earth, -with its slow evolution of sprout and stalk and leaf and blossom--the -glory of every step on the way!" - -"But, can't you see that progress in affection needn't be a limited -journey to a finite end, even the end of the flower, but, no matter how -fast one travels, if one is really in love, the goal is always -infinitely distant? There are enough things to be understood and -enjoyed." - -"Oh, I'm sure enough that I'll never get enough of you, and never know -enough about you!" - -"That's almost too true to be funny. You'll never know even who I am, -I'm afraid. Think what a risk you run, my dear!" - -"Oh, I know who you are well enough. You're the son of Casanova and -Little Dorrit." - -He grew reflective. "Isn't it strange," he said, "that you, with all -your wonderful intuitions, shouldn't be able, somehow, to solve that -riddle? Do you think I am Madam Grant's son? Sometimes that seems to -be the inevitable conclusion." - -"I can't quite think you are, Francis. Everything you have told me -about her has brought her very near to me, somehow, and I feel as if I -knew her, but you don't affect me in the same way. I think you're a -changeling, myself! It is strange that I can't quite 'get' you now, -though, not nearly as well as I used to. My power seems to have waned -ever since--" - -"Since what?" - -"Since that first kiss! You see, I've exchanged that elusive power for -something tangible." She put him away with a gesture. "No, not now! I -want to be serious! And oh, here's what I found in my father's -scrap-book. It seemed to have been cut from a very old paper. Somehow -it seems to point to her. I want to know what you think about it." - -She had copied it out and read it to him: - - -"Miss Felicia Gerard, who spoke immediately after Mrs. Woodhull's -address, is one of that lady's most devoted adherents and helpers, -having been connected with the cause for nearly a year. Although only -twenty years of age, Miss Gerard has brought into action talents of no -mean order. She was graduated at Vassar College, and is endowed both -physically and mentally with the rarest and most lovable qualities. She -was first presented to Mrs. Woodhull in Toledo, where the remarkable -clairvoyant powers shared by the two women drew them naturally together. -Miss Gerard is a regular contributor to _Woodhull and Claflin's Weekly_ -where her spirited articles have attracted wide notice and flattering -praise." - - -"That must be Mamsy," he said. - -"I'm sure of it. I shall ask my father as soon as I get the -opportunity." - -For the rest of the afternoon they talked as if they were never to meet -again. Once or twice there came a knock, and the door was tried, but -Granthope did not answer, and they were left alone in peace. She rose -to go at six, and, as she was to be busy all the next day, the parting -was long delayed. They were, indeed, getting rapidly acquainted. - - - - - *CHAPTER XV* - - *THE REENTRANT ANGLE* - - -Blanchard Cayley strolled into the Mercantile Library, one afternoon, -and, nodding to the clerk at the desk, walked to an alcove in the corner -of the main hall. He stopped at a shelf and sat down on a stool. He had -done this several afternoons a week for years, going through the library -as a business man takes account of stock, examining every book in order. -Of some he read only the titles, glancing perhaps also at the date of -the edition; of some he looked over the table of contents. Others he -read, nibbling here and there. A few he took home. He had, by this -time, almost exhausted the list. He read, not like a bookworm, with -relish and zest, nor like a student desirous of a mastery of his -subject; he read, as he did everything, even to his love-making, -deliberately, accurately, with an elaborate scientific method that was, -in its intricacy, something of a game, whose rules he alone knew. He -had, indeed, specialized, taking up such subjects as jade, Japanese -poetry, Esperanto, higher space, Bahiism, and devil-worship, and in such -subjects he had what is termed "lore," but his main object was the -conquest of the whole library in itself. - -This afternoon he did not read long. Looking over the top of his book, -as was his custom from time to time, to discover what women were -present, he caught sight of Clytie Payson in the alcove containing the -government reports. He replaced his volume and went over to her. - -She was in high spirits, and welcomed him cordially, as if she had but -just come from something interesting and stimulating; another man's -smile seemed still to linger with her. - -"Why, how d'you do, Blanchard?" she said. "I haven't seen you here for -a long time. What has happened? Have you finished the library yet?" - -"Oh, no, not quite. I've still a few more shelves to do, but I've been -studying psychology on the side." - -She looked at him with an indulgence that was new to him. "In -petticoats, I presume, then?" - -He shrugged his shoulders. "No, I've been studying a man," he said. -"What are you doing?" - -She overlooked the purport of his question and answered lightly, "Oh, -only looking up some statistics for father. I've been coming here quite -often, lately, but I'm almost finished, now. Is there anything in the -world duller than a statistic? I always think of the man who went for -information to a statistician at Washington and was asked, 'What d'you -want to prove?'" - -"How is your father getting on with the book?" - -Clytie grew a little more serious. "Why, father's queer lately. I -can't understand him at all. He's taken up with some spiritualists, and -I'm rather worried about it." - -"He's talked to me about them. But I should hardly think you'd be -surprised at it. You're as much interested in palmistry as he is in the -spooks, aren't you?" - -Clytie flashed a glance at him. "Didn't you know that Mr. Granthope had -given up palmistry?" - -Cayley smiled and smoothed his pointed beard. "Oh, yes. I've heard -considerable about it. Nobody seems to understand it but me. Very -clever of him, I think." - -"What d'you mean?" Clytie was instantly upon the defense. - -"I like his system. It's subtle." - -"His system?" - -"Yes. You don't mean to say you still think he's sincere, do you?" - -"I don't think it's necessary to discuss Mr. Granthope," said Clytie -carelessly. "Of course I do believe he's sincere, or I wouldn't call -myself a friend of his. He has given up a good paying business because -he was sick of that way of earning a living." - -"And also in order to make more money by quitting." - -"How?" - -"By marrying you." - -She winced. "Blanchard," she said, "if you weren't an old friend, I -couldn't forgive you that. But because you are, I can't permit you to -think it." - -"It was because we are old friends that I permitted myself to speak so -plainly. You'll count it, I suppose, merely as jealousy. But I hate to -see you taken in so easily." - -Clytie looked up at him calmly, folding her hands in her lap. "Now, -Blanchard, please tell me exactly what you mean, without any more -insinuations." - -"Why, Granthope has been for two months trying to marry you. He's after -your money." - -"Thank you for the implied compliment," she retorted dryly. - -"Oh, well, you know perfectly well what _I_ think of you, Cly. I was -thinking of what I know of him, not what I know of you. He's made a -deliberate attempt to get you, and this reform business is only a part -of the game." - -She smiled and turned away, as if she were so sure of Granthope that it -was hardly worth her while even to defend him. - -"It's not pleasant to say it," he went on; "but you spoke of being -distrustful of these mediums your father knows, and my point is that -Granthope's tarred with the same brush. He has worked with them and -plotted with them." - -She was as yet unruffled; the spell of her happiness was still upon her, -and she answered mildly. "I can hardly blame you for thinking that, -perhaps. I suppose I might myself, if I didn't know him so well. But I -do happen to know something about his life, and I'm sure you're -mistaken. He's told me a good deal, and I have my own intuitions -besides." - -Cayley was as serene. "Do your intuitions tell you, for instance, that -he has a definite understanding with these mediums--in regard to you?" - -"No, they do not!" she answered calmly, looking him fair in the face. - -"It's true, nevertheless." Cayley, with sharp eyes, noted her flush. -Her eyes were well schooled, but her quivering mouth betrayed her -trouble. - -She took up her book as if to dismiss the subject. - -Cayley watched her with impassive eyes. "You may be his friend, as you -say, but there are a lot of things about Granthope that you don't know -yet." - -"No doubt," she replied without looking up. - -"And there are things which you ought to know." - -She looked at him now, to say: "Do you fancy that you are helping your -own chances any by attacking him?" - -"Will it help his chances any if you find that he has given away -particular facts that he's discovered about you and your father?" - -She had begun to be aroused, now, and she showed fight. "I don't -believe it!" - -Still unperturbed, he went on in his mechanically precise way. "I've -made it my business to find out about Granthope, Cly. It shouldn't -surprise you--you know I'm in earnest about wanting you. I'm as -earnest, too, in wanting to protect you. I don't propose to hold my -tongue when I find that you're trusting in a man that's knifing you -behind your back." - -Her voice rang with pride and scorn as she rose, saying, "I don't care -to discuss the matter further, Blanchard." - -"Not when I say that I have seen notes in Granthope's own handwriting -that were given to a medium as a part of a deliberate scheme? These -notes were on definite things he had learned, I'm sure, from his -conversations with you. Some of them are personal matters that I'm sure -you wouldn't at all care to have made public. You could easily prove it -if you saw them." - -She had lost courage again, and hesitated, staring at him. - -Then she said, freezing, "Let me see them, then. If you're determined -to have a scene, you may as well follow the rules of melodrama." - -"I can't show them, because this medium wouldn't let them out of his -possession. But I can get him to let you see them, if you like." - -"You say they are about things we--that I talked about?" - -"Yes." - -"Things--about--_me_?" - -"Yes. I forget all of them. I had only a moment's glance." - -For some moments she stood silent. Then she spoke swiftly. "I don't -believe it. He couldn't do such a thing!" - -"My dear Cly, you must remember that one's whole mental evolution is -merely the history of the conflict between reason and instinct, and -reason is bound to win in the end. That's the way we develop. The fact -is, he _could_ do it and _did_ do it. He's a charlatan and he has used -a charlatan's methods. I said he was clever. This giving up his studio -was merely a kind of gambit. But he made a mistake when he tried to use -a lot of cheap fakirs to help him out with you." - -"Oh!" She clenched her fists. "Don't! I won't stand it!" Her head -dropped as if she were weary. Her eyes burned. - -"Oh, there's good in everybody, the copy-books say," he returned. "But -the fact is, Cly, he isn't in your class, and never was. You should -have seen that!" - -She looked at him without seeing him, her eyes caught meaninglessly by -the garnet in his tie, clinging to it, as if it were the only real thing -in the world. Her lips parted, the color was leaving her cheeks, she -looked as frail as a ghost. Suddenly she threw off her reverie, and -placing her hand on his arm, said, "Let me see them--the -notes--Blanchard. There must be some horrid mistake. I want to clear -it up immediately." - -"Very well, I'll take you now, if you like. It isn't far." - -She followed him out of the library as if hypnotized. They spoke little -on the way. Cayley tried his best to arouse her, but finally gave it up -as impossible. He watched her, preserving his usual phlegmatic calm. -She walked with head erect, her chin forward, with her long, graceful -gait, beside him, but never seemed two human beings further apart in -spirit. - -Flora Flint opened the door to Vixley's flat. She acted quite as if she -belonged there and invited them in cordially, with an up-and-down -scrutiny of Clytie as they passed in. Then she disappeared down the -long, tunnel-like hall. Cayley took Clytie into the office where, -refusing a chair, she stood like a statue, her eyes fixed on the door. - -Vixley entered, currying his beard with his long fingers. "Well, Mr. -Cayley," he said, "what can we do for you? Like a sitting?" - -"Professor, you recall telling me something about some memoranda -Granthope gave you, don't you?" - -"I been thinkin' about that, Mr. Cayley, and I don't know as I ought to -have said anything. I'm rather inclined to regret it." - -"You _have_ said something, and I've brought this lady down to show the -memoranda to her," said Cayley. - -"H'm!" Vixley looked her over. "It ain't exactly customary to show -things like that, you know." - -"We've had all that out before. I'm here to see those cards." - -Vixley drew up a rocking-chair for Clytie, and seated himself on the -edge of the revolving chair in front of his desk, putting the tips of -his long fingers together. "Francis Granthope is a bright young man," -he said, "a very bright young man. Very painstaking, and very thorough. -I won't say he ain't a _leetle_ bit unscrupulous, however. A man who -ain't got no psychic influence behind him has got to do some pretty good -guessin'. Now you go to work and take me, with my control, Theodore -Parker, and his band o' spirits, I don't need to bother much. I can get -all I want out of the other plane. I ain't sayin' nothin' against -Granthope, except maybe that he uses methods, sometimes, that ain't -_exactly_ legitimate, such as what I was tellin' you about." - -"How did he happen to give you these notes?" Clytie asked. - -"Why, I s'pose he expected me to give him an equivalent in return. I -will say I have helped him out, at times, feelin' rather predisposed -toward him, and him bein' a likely chap. But Lord, _I_ don't need his -help! And so I told him. In this case I didn't feel called upon to -give away none of my client's affairs. Naturally he got a little huffy -about it, and he's acted so that I'm inclined to resent it. I can't -bear anything like ingratitude." - -He opened his desk and took from a pigeonhole two cards. He handed them -to Clytie. - -"I was tellin' Mr. Cayley, here, I knew about Granthope and his methods. -It'll show you what a poor business this palm-readin' reely is. Lord, -they ain't nothin' in it at all! If anybody wants to know anything -about the future the only way to do is to establish communications with -the spirit-plane through the well-known and well-tried methods of -spiritualism." - -Clytie was not listening. Her eyes were upon the cards. She looked and -looked, reading and re-reading, her face set in tense lines, the notes -in Granthope's fine, closely written hand. There it was, as he had set -it down: - - -Oliver Payson, b. Oct. 2nd, 1842. b. d. present from dau., bound copy -of 'Montaigne' 1900. Tattoo mark anchor on right arm, near shoulder. -Writing a book. Economics (?) Knew Mad. Grant (?) Wife visited Mad. G. -x. v. p. - -Clytie Payson. Engaged to Blanchard Cayley (?) Mole, left cheek. Ring -with "Clytie" inside. Turquoises. Claims psychic power. Clairv. Goes -to Merc. Lib. afternoons at 3. Buried doll under sun-dial in garden. - - -As she came to the last line she dropped the card from her fingers. She -had become a woman of ice. - -Vixley picked up the card and smiled, showing his yellow teeth. "Kind -of a give-away, ain't it? _I_ call his work lumpy." - -"I hope you're convinced now," Cayley added. - -She turned her head slowly, deliberately, to the Professor. "When did -Mr. Granthope give you this card?" - -"Oh, I dunno, exactly, he's gave me so much, one time or another. About -two weeks ago, I should judge. Why?" - -"I'm very much obliged to you." Her voice came as if from an immense -distance. Then she nodded to Cayley, who rose. - -"Nothin' more I could do, is they? Wouldn't you like to try a sittin', -Miss?" Vixley asked with urbanity. - -"Thank you, no." Clytie walked out slowly, without another look at him, -like a somnambulist. Vixley hastened to escort her to the front door, -and opened it. - -Cayley gave him a look. It was returned. Vixley bowed. Clytie went -out. - -"Are you going over to North Beach?" Cayley inquired. "I'll walk up to -the car with you." - -"I'll go alone, I think." - -"Oh, very well--but--" - -"Good afternoon. You'll have to excuse me, Blanchard." - -"All right. Good day." - -She strode off, leaving him there. - -She walked all the way home, and walked fast, her head held high, -looking straight ahead of her. She took the steep hills with hardly a -slackening of her speed, breasting the upward inclines energetically, -leaning forward with grace. Up Nob Hill and down she went, along the -saddle, up Russian Hill and over, without her customary pause to enjoy -the glorious outlooks. Under her arm she still carried the book from -the library which she had forgotten to put down when first Blanchard -Cayley spoke to her. She held it automatically, apparently not knowing -that it was there. With it she gripped her glove; her right hand was -still bare, clenching her skirt. - -She turned into her street at last, and climbed the wooden steps, into -the garden. As she went up the path, her eyes lighted upon the -sun-dial. She stopped and looked at it for a moment fixedly. Then into -the house, up-stairs to her room, to throw herself upon the bed... - - -The wind had risen and blew gustily about the house. Her shutter banged -at intervals. The noise kept up till she rose, opened the window and -fastened back the blind, and went back to her bed. There she lay, -staring, with her eyes wide open... - - -Her father did not come home that evening. At half-past seven she got -up again, washed her face, arranged her hair, and went down-stairs to -eat dinner alone. Afterward she stepped out into the garden. The wind -billowed her skirts, fretted her hair into a swirl of tawny brown, -cooled her cheeks. For an hour she walked up and down in the dark. The -harbor was thick with mist. The siren on Lime Point sobbed across the -Gate intermittently ... - - -Later, she went into the library and sat down with a book beside the -fire. For a half-hour she did not turn a page, but remained quiescent, -gazing at the flames... - - -At ten she went up to her workroom, lighted the gas, and took out her -tools. For two hours she sewed leaves on her frame, working as if -automatically. Her gaze was intent; one would have said that she was -completely absorbed in her task. Slowly the sheets piled, one on -another, each stitched to the back with deft strokes. Finally the whole -volume was completed. She bound up the loose threads and put the book -away. Then she heated her irons, got out her gold-leaf and spent an -hour tooling a calf cover, pressing in roses and circles and stipples -while her lips were sternly set. She arose, then, and looked out into -the night... - - -She undressed at last and went to bed. Long after midnight there was a -sound below of her father coming in. His footsteps went to and fro for -a time, then they came up-stairs. His door was closed softly. There -was no sound, now, but the ticking of her little clock, and, -occasionally, the far-away echo of a steamer's whistle, and the dreary -note of the siren. She tossed uneasily. The clock struck one, two, -three, four. Then the wind began to sing round the corner of the house -as the gale rose. The noise was soothingly monotonous, hypnotic, -anesthetic... - - -At breakfast she was cool, serene, quiet, showing no traces of her -emotion. She talked with her father, laughed with him, as usual, flying -from one topic to another, never serious. As he got up to go, she -remarked: - -"Father, I think I'll go up to Sacramento to visit Mrs. Maxwell at -Lonely a few days. I've put it off so long, and she's been after me -again to come. She's up there all alone." - -"All right, Cly. I saw her down-town, day before yesterday, and she -told me she was going to ask you." - -Clytie frowned. "You did? Why didn't you tell me?" She looked at him -for a moment curiously. He seemed to wish to evade her question. Then -she asked, with emphasis, "Did you ask her to invite me?" - -Mr. Payson hesitated. "Why, I told her that you would probably -accept--" - -She bit her lip, still frowning. "I understand. On account of Mr. -Granthope, I presume?" - -"Well, I thought it would be just as well for you to take a little -vacation." - -Clytie said nothing. Mr. Payson lingered, ill at ease in the face of -her implications. At last he looked at her over his spectacles and said -petulantly: "I've been surprised at you, Cly, really. I have been -considerably worried, as well. I'm afraid you've compromised yourself -seriously by having been seen so much with Granthope. I haven't spoken -of it, before, because I had already said all I could to you. You knew -very well what my wishes were in the matter and it seems you've seen fit -to disregard them." - -Clytie still kept silent, listening to him calmly. He had worked -himself up by his own words to an irascible pitch, but her -non-resistance balked his temper, and it oozed away, as he continued. - -"I hope this trip will give you a chance to think it well over, Cly, and -I have no doubt that you'll come to see it as I do." - -"Oh, I'll think it over," she replied listlessly. - -Mr. Payson, having won his point in getting her out of town, shook his -head without replying, and prepared to leave the room. - -But Clytie continued. "At least, I am sure he was sincere in warning -you against those mediums you are going to, father." - -He turned to her, his irritability rekindled by her remark. "That's -exactly what I most dislike about the man," he exclaimed. "If he hadn't -attempted to prejudice me against them I might believe in his own change -of heart, or whatever it was. But he went back on the very people with -whom he's been associated for years. Isn't that suspicious?" - -"Didn't he do that to save you from their tricks?" Her voice was low -and evidently troubled; she seemed to be attempting to convince herself, -rather than her father. - -"I notice he didn't explain how they managed to give me my tests," Mr. -Payson retorted, shaking his head emphatically. "He seemed to consider -me the most simple and credulous person in the world. His statements, -at least those he dared to make, were all general ones, and they implied -that I was not old enough, or else, perhaps, too old to sift the -evidence for myself. They were positively insulting. These mediums -have given me proof enough to convince any one. They've told me things -that couldn't possibly have been found out by any tricks. Take that -about your giving me a copy of _Montaigne_ for my birthday, for -instance. How could they have found that out? You hadn't told any one -about it, had you?" - -"No," said Clytie faintly. - -"There you are, then!" Mr. Payson wagged his head solemnly. "What did -I tell you?" - -"What else did they say?" Clytie asked anxiously. - -"Plenty of things. Things I myself didn't know the truth about till I -investigated. Things about my personal affairs, about my past life--oh, -so much that I can't help feeling that there's something in this -business that we don't understand. Oh!"--he paused for a moment, -looking at her--"there was one thing I wanted to ask you about--I forgot -to speak of it. It sounded like nonsense, at the time--you know that -even spirits are sometimes frivolous and inconsequent--and there were so -many other more important communications at the time that it slipped my -mind. Vixley's control said something once about a doll that was buried -underneath--" - -"Oh, I forgot to ring up Mrs. Maxwell," Clytie interrupted, springing -up. "I _must_ tell her I'm coming. If I don't do it right away now I -may not catch her--it takes so long to get a long distance connection." - -She went up to him and putting her arms round his neck, kissed him. -"Don't wait, father, if you're in a hurry. Good-by!" - -She walked to the door. - -"Well, then, I'll go along down-town," he said. "Be sure and write when -you get up there." - -She left him hurriedly and ran up-stairs. - - -At ten she was at the ferry, waiting for the boat which connected with -the Sacramento train. There was a crowd going, coming and waiting in -the long arcade outside. As she approached the ticket office a man was -at the window. He was tall, dark-haired, distinguished. At sight of -him, Clytie withdrew out of sight, and let him finish his business and -leave. Then she approached, bought her ticket, and, watching sharply, -dodging behind groups here and there, she succeeded in passing the -ticket collector and losing herself in the assembly in the waiting-room -without being observed. She wormed her way forward near the gate, and -with the first rush of passengers, after the gate was raised, hurried on -to the boat and went, immediately into the ladies' room. - -On the other side she acted as cautiously. She remained till almost the -last passenger had left the boat, then walked swiftly through the -train-shed to her car. For an hour, as the train sped on, she scarcely -looked to the right or the left. - -The train slowed up at Stockton, and stopped. Clytie looked carelessly -out of the window. Just as the train started again, Granthope appeared -on the platform. He went up to a cab-driver and began talking. Clytie, -flushing deeply, watched him so intensely that at last, as if attracted -by some mental telepathy, he looked round and caught sight of her. His -hat came off to her immediately. He gave a quick glance at the now -rapidly moving train, as if intending to board it, then he gave it up as -impossible. Clytie's eyes lost him, and she was carried on. It was a -long time before the color faded from her cheeks. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVI* - - *TIT FOR TAT* - - -Professor Vixley had prepared his campaign with Mr. Payson with the -scientific delight of an engineer. His cunning was not too low to -prevent his love of the sport for the sport's sake, and his elaborations -and by-plays were undertaken with relish and enthusiasm. The pleasure -was vastly heightened for him by the character of his dupe. Mr. Payson -was a figure in the community, a man of weight and influence. He had an -established position and an assured wealth. Heavy and slow, mentally, he -had the dignified respectability that is usually associated with -business success. - -In the mental manipulation of such a personage Vixley felt a sense of -power as enjoyable as the pecuniary reward. The dwarf, socially, led -the giant. - -He had his charge, by this time, well in hand. The old gentleman's -ponderous mentality had been managed like an ocean steamship lying at -the dock. One by one the lines of doubt and distrust and prejudice had -been released. It was now time to fire his intellectual boilers. By -means of their tricks, eavesdropping methods and clever guess-work, and -with Cayley's help, they had fed him fuel for the imagination until now -he was roused to a dynamic, enthusiastic belief in spiritualism, or that -version of it which best suited their ends. Captain and pilot were -aboard and in command. It remained but to ring up the engines, turn -over the wheel and get under way for the voyage. Many another such -argosy had been fitted out and had sailed forth from their brains, to -return laden with treasure. There was hazard of collision or shipwreck, -but the only obstacle now in view was Granthope, and Vixley felt sure -that he could be blown out of the way with the explosion of a few -scandals. - -Mr. Payson's mind had an inertia which, once successfully overcome, was -transformed to momentum. He was as credulous, as responsive, as -influenced by the specious logic of the medium as if he had never been a -skeptic. Vixley's next move was to realize financially on Payson's -vanity and literary aspirations. - -The ensuing series of communications from "Felicia," automatically -transcribed by Vixley, developed the fact Mr. Payson's book would meet -with disastrous competition from an unknown author who was working upon -the same subject in Chicago. Such a publication would, in the eyes of -any publisher, materially affect the value of a San Francisco book. -Something must be done to prevent the rival work from being printed. -The first step necessary, Vixley asserted, was to send a man to Chicago -and investigate the case and report upon it. This preliminary -reconnaissance cost a considerable sum. Payson did not see the -emissary, for Vixley had warned him of the possibility of blackmail. -"Felicia" now informed the sitter that the aid of the spirit world could -be invoked to forestall the competing writer's efforts. - -There was a band of spirits on the "third sphere," it seemed, who, -though usually maleficent, could be placated. These "Diakkas" could, -and possibly would, exert certain magnetic or psychic powers so as to -prevent competition. It was difficult, however, to win over spirits so -fantastic as these, even when one had established communication with -them--itself an intricate and dangerous process. The only safe way, Mr. -Payson was assured, was to create an atmosphere pleasing to them, one -which absorbed antagonistic vibrations, and facilitated communication by -intensifying the sitter's aura and rendering their acceptance of earthly -conditions easy. And so forth, through an elaborate exposition. - -The thing was accomplished by means of charging the room with the -perfume of ambergris. Ambergris, however, was expensive. Mr. Payson -had to pay fifty dollars an ounce for his; moreover, a fresh supply was -necessary for each seance as the material quickly absorbed the -deleterious psycho-physical elements of the atmosphere, and became inert -to vibration. Professor Vixley divided this revenue with Madam Spoll, -but he could not divide his pleasure in his artful fiction. Madam Spoll -was only a woman; the artistic niceties of the harlequinade were lost on -her. - -This could not, however, go on for ever, nor were the two conspirators -content to do business in so small a way. Both were convinced that the -only chance for a large and permanent income lay in the production of -Payson's and Felicia's child, and they set about the plan by which this -should become remunerative. - -Ringa was settled upon for the impersonation. He was simple, easily -taught and led; he was willing. He would be as easily managed when the -time came for a division of the profits of the enterprise. And so, one -day, Madam Spoll waddled out to Turk Street to complete the -negotiations. - -Professor Vixley was bending over a small machine with horizontal arms -in the form of a cross, decorated with mirrors, when she rang; before -opening the door he covered the instrument with a black cloth and put it -on his roll-top desk by the type-writer. - -Madam Spoll came in smiling, unruffled as if her face had been freshly -ironed out. - -"I been walking lately, to reduce my flesh, but, Lord, I get such an -appetite I eat more'n enough to balance," she panted, as she lowered -herself carefully upon the quilted couch and crushed back into a sofa -pillow, whereon was painted a fencing girl with a heart on her plastron. -She loosened her beaded cape, and breathed heavily in relief. - -"Well, I managed to get here, after all! What d'you think? Mrs. Riley -has been to me for a private setting. Do you recall her, Vixley? She's -that woman who was tried for murdering her husband some years back and -was acquitted; or rather the jury was hung. Anyways, _she_ wasn't. But -I believe she done it. She's as nervous as a cat, and can't look you in -the face to save her soul. It seems that she knew Madam Grant in the -old days, and used to get readings off her. I don't know but we could -use her, someway." - -"Has she got any money?" said the slate-writer. - -"She keeps a boarding-house, I believe. It wouldn't be much, but 'every -little helps,' as the old lady said when she spit into the harbor. I -might work her for five a week, I s'pose, but now I think of it, -Masterson's doctoring her." - -"Then they won't be much meat left on her bones!" Vixley grinned. "But -I ain't botherin' with landladies till we finish with Payson. Did you -see him yesterday?" - -"I did, and he said he'd give a thousand dollars if we'd find the boy. -I shouldn't wonder if he'd pay more if we work it right, not to speak of -what we get from Ringa when he's fixed." - -"Lord! A thousand dollars for Ringa! Wouldn't that make you seasick?" -Vixley cackled, slapping his claw-like hand on his knee. "I say, -Gertie, we ought to get a couple of good crockery teeth put in his jaw -first, or the old man will want to return him for shop-worn. Ringa as -Mr. Max Payson, Esquire! Gee whizz! I want to be there when the old -gent falls on his neck and kills the fatted calf!" - -"I've known a heap of worse boys than Max Ringa to have for a son," -Madam Spoll said, a little irritated. "You go to work and wash him and -dress him up in a Prince Albert and I don't know why he won't do as well -as anybody." - -"Oh, he'll do--he'll do elegant! He'll do Payson, anyways, and that's -all we want." - -"Oh, I'm going to teach him to jump through the hoop all right. He'll -be doing the papa's darling act so natural you'll think he'd always -slep' in a bed!" She chuckled now till she shook like a jelly-fish. -"He's just crazy about it. Says he'll come down and take me to ride in -his automobile car. Why, Payson will be good for all sorts of money if -Ringa works him right. He ought to get an allowance of two or three -hundred a month if the old man's got any proper feelings as a father." - -"It's more'n likely he'll pay Ringa to stay away," Vixley remarked -cynically. "I've seen these here fond parents before. I don't seem to -see Ringa doin' society somehow. He'd be tryin' to blow the foam off -his champagne and chewin' tobacco in the ball-room the first thing. But -he'll do for a starter. If worse comes to worst we can hold the old man -up to keep the story dark--and then there's the weeklies, they wouldn't -mind gettin' hold of it." - -"Say!" Madam Spoll suddenly exclaimed, "what's become of Fancy Gray, now -that Frank has thrown her down?" - -"Why, ain't you heard? She's took up with this fellow Cayley." - -"No!" Madam Spoll's eyes were opened wide at the bit of gossip. -"What's he up to with her, anyway?" - -"Why, I expect he's trying to use her someway, so's to queer Frank's -game with Miss Payson. Fancy knows all about Frank, if she can be -induced to tell. If Cayley can show Frank up, he stands a better show to -catch Miss Payson himself. At least, that's the way I figure it. I -ain't got no idea that Cayley cares a rap for Fancy, but he's smooth, -and as long as he can use her he'll keep her jollied along." - -The Madam had been thinking hard. "Fancy ought to be pretty sore on -Frank," she offered. - -"I don't blame her. He's treated her bad." - -"And there's no doubt about her being stuck on Cayley?" - -"It certainly looks like it; she's with him all the time." - -"Well, then, what's the matter with getting Cayley to work her so she -can help us out with Payson? I believe we could use her good. She's a -saucy chit, and she makes me tired with her fly-up-the-creek impudence; -but all the same, she's clever, and if Cayley could only induce her to -go into it, I can see lots of ways she could help." - -Vixley thought over the matter for a few minutes in silence. "All -right, Gertie, I'll speak to him about it. I guess he'll do it; he'll be -afraid not to. We got him pretty well tied up, now." - -"You can promise him that Felicia will recommend that he marries the -girl. That'll be an inducement." - -"I'm afraid the Payson girl has got something to say about that herself, -from all I hear." - -"Well, at any rate, we've queered Frank Granthope, and that's what -Cayley wanted most." - -"I guess so; at least, that's what I make out from what he says. He's -pretty close-mouthed." - -"Well, if he ain't close-mouthed about Payson, he can tend to his own -affairs alone, for all I care. Has he gave you any more dope?" - -"Has he! Why, he's been a-ringin' of me up every day, tippin' me off to -everything the old man's up to!" - -"You ain't let on anything about this child business to Cayley, have -you?" - -"D'you think I want to queer the whole game? Of course not. Why, Cayley -would be scared that the daughter wouldn't get any of the money if he -knew they was another heir. All the same, we got to be careful of -Cayley, for he certainly has helped considerable. The old man wouldn't -be where we got him now if Cayley hadn't shown up. What d'you think he -told me this mornin'? Payson's been round to a lot of printers, gettin' -estimates on the book, so's he can publish it hisself! Ain't that a -gall? He never asked my advice about it! I'm going to give him a dig -about that." - -"Oh, well, let's get down to business, I ain't got any too much time," -Madam Spoll interrupted. "About the materializing, now. We got to have -a private seance, of course?" - -Vixley rose, clasped his hands behind his back, and lifted himself up -and down on his toes as he gazed at her. "I been a-thinkin' it over, -Gert, and I come to the conclusion that it ain't best. Payson ain't -prepared for it yet, and we got to go easy. He ain't actually convinced -of physical mediumship yet, as it is. I think we better spring it on him -at a public. Flora can pack the room with believers and cappers, and -then, after Payson's seen a lot of other folks recognizin' spirits and -gettin' messages, why, he'll be more inclined to swallow his test. I've -made a study of him, and that's my opinion." - -"Has Flora got plenty of help?" - -"She wants one more girl to play spirit, for she's just lost a dandy she -had--she was arrested for shopliftin', I believe. We can fix her up, -though. There's your Miss French, for one." - -"I don't trust her much, but she'll do on a pinch. But Perry we must -have. It's better to use our own people. Who's Flora's cabinet -control?" - -"Little Starlight. Flora does her with a telescope rod. Oh, Flora's -slick! She's a cracker jack of a ventriloquist--she's got at least six -good voices!" - -"How does she work, now? From the front seats?" - -"No, mostly through the foldin' doors. As soon as the room is dark and -the singin' has commenced she has the door rolled back the wrong way -about a foot, and her players come in that way. They don't show against -the black cloth, and they's no danger at all, for if anybody wants to -examine the cabinet they ain't no panels nor nothing to be exposed. -Flora's just got up a grand disappearance act, she tells me. She wears a -white petticoat and her overskirt is lined with white. When she comes -out of the cabinet her skirt is lifted up and wrapped round her head -inside-out, as natural as life. Then she gradually lowers it and the -whole form slowly disappears down to the ground like a snow-man meltin' -in the sun. No, sir, you can't beat that girl, not in this town!" - -"Vixley, I don't see no end to this graft. Why, after we've -materialized we can etherealize, can't we?" - -"Yes, and then we'll develop him till he don't know where he's at." - -"And spirit-pictures, too. Felicia'll take a grand photograph!" - -"You bet. I'm going to try them big cloth ones that you spray with -prussiate o' potash. You can get blue, yeller, and brown fine. I been -workin' on it already." - -A ring at the front door-bell interrupted her colloquy. Vixley tiptoed -to the window and peeped out; then he turned with a scowl. - -"It's Doc Masterson. What the devil does _he_ want, anyway?" - -"No good, I'll bet," she replied. - -"I got to let him in, I s'pose. It won't do to send him away, the old -snake-in-the-grass. He's too smooth!" - -"Oh, I ain't afraid of him. I wan't born yesterday," was her -contemptuous reply. - -"All the same, you be careful what you say to him, Gert," Vixley -cautioned, as he went out into the hall. - -He reappeared with the doctor. Madam Spoll smiled sweetly. - -Doctor Masterson greeted her with a sour expression, and shook hands -limply. He sat down deliberately, and, pulling out a soiled silk -handkerchief, wiped his creased forehead and his bald pate. Then he -cleaned his iron-bowed spectacles, blinking his red eyes as he breathed -on the lenses. - -Vixley, from the organ bench, watched him shrewdly, and offered him a -cigar. - -"No, thanks, I don't smoke," said the doctor peevishly. - -"Since when?" Vixley asked in surprise. - -"Since you give me that last 'Flor de Chinatown,' or whatever it was. -When I want to smoke rag carpets again I'll try another." He showed his -black teeth in a vicious grin. - -Vixley tittered. "What's wrong, Doc? Looks like you had a grouch. -Been takin' too much of Hasandoka's medicine lately? You didn't come -round here to look a gift-horse in the mouth, did you?" - -The doctor cleared his throat and pulled down his plaid waistcoat. "No, -I didn't. But I didn't come round for to give you any hot air, neither! -I'm glad I struck Madam Spoll here, for what I got to say may interest -her, too." - -"Spit it out and get rid of it, then," said Vixley; "don't mind us." - -"The fact is," said Masterson, "you ain't neither of you treated me -square. I fully expected to be in on this Payson game, from what you -led me to believe, and you not only let me out with only a month's work, -but you've shut me off from the main graft." - -Madam Spoll fired up. "We never told you we was going to whack up with -you, at all! Seems to me you got considerable nerve to try and butt in! -Who's running this thing, anyway? You got all that's coming to you. We -ain't never took him into partnership, Vixley, have we?" - -"I ain't seen no contrack to that effect. You ain't got no call to -complain, Doc; they ain't enough in it for three. Payson ain't loosened -up enough for us to retire on it, yet." - -Masterson's thin lips drew back like a hound's, to show his fangs. His -Adam's apple rose and fell above his celluloid collar, as he swallowed -his irritation. "_Oh_, very well," he said quickly. "Of course, if you -want to freeze me out, you can. But I don't call it a square deal. I -was the one what got him going, wan't I? Didn't I do my part all right? -I understand you're going to materialize him and develop him, and the -Lord knows what-all. I don't see why you can't find room for me, -somewhere." - -"You ought to be thankful for what you got out of it!" Madam Spoll -exclaimed. "Lord, we didn't have to take you on at all! They's plenty -of others we could have used. You're three hundred ahead of the game as -it stands, and that's more than you've ever made in six months, before. -Don't be a hog!" - -"That's a nice thing for _you_ to say," he sneered. "When I get up to -two hundred pounds I'll begin to worry about _that_." - -Vixley interfered craftily. "We'll think it over and let you know, Doc; -we may be able to use you, perhaps, but we can't tell yet a while--not -till we see how this thing turns out." - -Madam Spoll broke in again, shaking her fat finger at him. "Don't you -believe it, Masterson! Me and Vixley can work this thing alone, and you -better keep your nose out of our business! If you come here looking for -trouble, you can find it, fast enough!" - -Vixley winked at her, but she was too angry to notice it. Masterson -rose stiffly and faced her, his thumbs caught in the armholes of his -plaid waistcoat. "All right," he said. "I ain't going to get down on to -my knees to _you_. But the next time I'm asked for a good clairvoyant, -it won't be you. I only ask what's fair, and I didn't come here for to -be insulted." - -"Oh, get on to yourself!" Vixley said, taking him by the arm. "Nobody -ain't insulted you. You can't blame us if we want to do this our own -way, can you?" - -The doctor shrugged his shoulders and took a few steps toward the door. -"You may think better of it when you talk it over," he hinted darkly. -"You may see my side of it. Good afternoon, Madam Spoll, I won't take -no more of your valuable time." He walked out. - -"You was a fool, Gert," said Vixley, after the door slammed. "It won't -do to let him get down on us. He knows too much." - -"Pooh!" she flouted, bridling. "I ain't afraid of Masterson, nor -anybody like him. He ain't got enough blood in his neck to do anything. -He just came round here like a pan-handler to see if we wouldn't give -him a poke-out. I'll see him further!" - -"I ain't so sure," Vixley replied, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "My -rule is, don't make no enemies if you can help it. But of course we got -to cut him out." - -Madam Spoll subsided and changed the subject. "Have you got that -developing machine yet?" she asked, her eyes, roving about the room. - -He walked to the desk and carried the machine to the small table in -front of her. Taking off the cloth he disclosed the revolving mirrors -actuated by clockwork. It was much like the instrument first used by -Braid in his experiments with mesmerism. He wound the spring and set -the mirrors in motion. They whirled madly in their circle, casting -flashes of light. - -"That's the way it works--you just stare at it hard. I guess that will -hold Payson a while. He's got the scientific bug enough to like this -sort of thing." - -Madam Spoll put her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand, -gazing, fascinated, at the flash of the revolving mirrors. As the -machine began to whir, the canary in the cage by the window began -warbling in an ecstasy of song. Vixley swore at the bird, and then, as -it refused to stop, took down the cage and walked to the door with it. - -"I guess that'll bring Felicia, all right, won't it?" he said as he went -out of the room, leaving Madam Spoll transfixed, lulled and charmed by -the flying mirrors. - -He was gone longer than he intended; it was seven or eight minutes -before he returned, whistling through his teeth. He turned into the -front room and stopped in astonishment. - -Madam Spoll was standing beside the machine, which had now run down. -Her eyes stared blankly at the desk, one hand clutched her breast, the -other was raised, as if to put something away from her. Her little -low-crowned Derby hat had fallen partly off and hung on one side of her -head. She stared, without speaking, her face set with an expression of -terror. - -"For Heaven's sake, Gert, what's the matter?" he cried. - -She turned her eyes slowly toward him, shuddered, sighed, and her hands -fell together. Then her face lighted up in a frenzy. "My God, Vixley, -I got it! I got it! After all these years!" - -"Got what, you crazy fool? The jimjams?" - -"I got materializing--I got a spirit! She was right over there by the -desk--a woman with white hair, it was, and she give me a message!" - -"Rats!" Vixley was contemptuous. He took her hand and gave her a -little shake. "Is _that_ all? I guess you was hypnotized, Gert, that's -all. That's what I got this jigger for, only I never thought _you'd_ be -one to go off half-cock like that!" - -"Vixley," she said emphatically, "don't you be a fool! I see a spirit -for the first time in my life, and you can't make me believe I didn't. -And I know who it was, now. It was Felicia Grant, as I'm a sinner, and -she came to warn me about Payson. Oh, you can laugh; I s'pose I would -if I was you, but this was the real thing, sure!" - -She reseated herself on the sofa and put her hands to her eyes. Vixley -sat on the arm of the Morris chair and laughed loudly. "Well, well!" he -exclaimed, "if that ain't a good one! Spirit, was it? Well, I guess if -it'll work on Gertie Spoll it'll work on Payson, all right. Oh, Lord!" - -She shook both hands wildly, almost hysterical with excitement, the -tears flowing. "My God! We can't go on with Payson now. I don't dare -to. I'm frightened." - -"Oh, you just got an attack of nerves, that's all. You'll get over it -and laugh at it. You keep still and cool off." - -She wagged her head solemnly, unconscious of her hanging hat. "See -here, Vixley, you know me! I'm too old a bird to be fooled with -fakes--I've done too much of that myself. I've always claimed that I -had clairvoyance, but I lied. I never got that nor clairaudience, no -matter how I tried for it, and I've had to fake. I've had a gift o' -guessing, perhaps, but that's all. But I swear to God, I got -materializing just now. I've scoffed at it all my life, but I believe -it now. I see her just as soon as you left, standing right over there -by the desk, she was, and she turned to me and she says, 'If you persist -you will come to harm. Take my advice and don't you do it!' and then -she faded away. What d'you s'pose it means?" - -"It means you need a drink," he said, and, walking to the desk, he took -out a whisky bottle and poured out a stiff dose. "Them's the spirits -that'll help you most. You put this down and see how you feel!" - -She put it away with an impatient gesture. "Oh, you don't believe it," -she cried, "but I see her just as plain as I see you this minute, and I -heard her, too. What'll I do, Vixley? I can't give up my business, can -I? I got to live." - -"What's the matter with you? I don't see as they's anything to worry -about, granted it was a spirit, which it wasn't one, o' course." - -"She said, 'If you persist you will come to harm!' What else could that -mean but Payson? Let's call it all off, before anything happens." - -"Bosh! It ain't likely it meant Payson any more than it did anything -else. Why, the thing is as simple as a rattle. Spirits be damned! You -leave that to the suckers--with money." - -Although his incredulity and sneers prevented her from actually -withdrawing from the projected seance, she was by no means restored to -calmness. She gave but a reluctant, distracted attention to his plans, -and talked little herself. She went home oppressed by the sinister -suggestions of her vision, muttering her dread for the future. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVII* - - *THE MATERIALIZING SEANCE* - - - FLORA FLINT'S Marvelous Spirit Messages and Grand Materializing - Test Seance To-night. 50c. 5203 Van Ness Ave. Come, Skeptics. - - -Dougal pointed to this notice in the _Call_ one night at Fulda's. There -were six at table; he and Mabel and Elsie, Maxim, Starr and Benton. - -Benton took up the paper, with a gleam in his eyes, as one who smelled -the battle from afar. Starr was for going, most enthusiastically for -it; he wanted another chance of seeing Benton in action. Maxim was -always to be depended upon; he never refused to go with the others. -Elsie smiled and did not commit herself to an opinion. She was a -fatalist. If things went well, she smiled. If they went wrong, she was -equally, perhaps even a little more, amused, and smiled as -enigmatically. Mabel giggled hysterically; her eyes shone; she held up -two fingers, the sign of acquiescence. No project was too mad for her -to accept and welcome; the madder it was, the more enthusiastic she -grew. In her the spirit of adventure still breathed. She was one to -whom things always happened, for she never refused Fate's invitations. -Fate, having invited her, usually saw her through the affair with -gallantry. She always escaped unscathed, preserving all the freshness -of her enthusiasm and ingenuousness. No one credited her with a -history. - -Their plan had been talked over and perfected for some time. Mindful of -Fancy's warning, it had been decided to enter the place in two groups -and find seats near together, being careful to hold no communication -with each other. - -Dougal was captain of the proposed exposure. He carried an electric -torch and was to choose the proper moment for attack. When he flashed -the light upon the spirit form and rushed forward to seize the actor, -Maxim was to follow at his heels and help, while Starr and Benton -"interfered" for him as in a foot-ball game. The girls were to take -care of themselves and watch everything that went on so as to report the -affair. - -There was no adjournment to Champoreau's that night, for it was -necessary to be at Flora Flint's early and attempt to get front seats. -Half-past seven found them at the house on Van Ness Avenue, where they -divided, Mabel going in with Dougal and Maxim, Elsie with Starr and -Benton. - -They went up a narrow staircase covered with yellow oil-cloth and -encountered, at the top, a long, pale, tow-headed youth with two front -teeth missing. He was slouching in the hall, by a little table, as if -attempting to hide the tallness and awkwardness of his figure. -Collecting the entrance fees without a word, he pointed to a door and -the seats inside. - -The room was square, and had two windows upon the street; it was lighted -dimly from a chandelier in the center, and was crowded with chairs -arranged on each side of a central aisle. There were already a score of -visitors, and prominent in the second row was Mr. Payson, solemnly calm, -impassive, his hands upon the top of his cane. Vixley sat in front and -was conversing over the back of his chair with Lulu Ellis. Dougal and -his companions found seats on the end of the fourth row; the others had -to go farther back. - -Hung about were the usual mottoes, worked in colored yarn on perforated -cardboard, and, in addition, a notice warning visitors against disorder. -It was evident that the materializing business was not unattended with -risks. The air was stuffy and smelt of kerosene oil. A curtain of -black cambric was stretched across one corner of the room, between the -folding doors and the mantelpiece, opposite the windows. The hangings -parted in the center, and were now draped up to each side, revealing the -interior of the "cabinet." - -Professor Vixley rose to announce that any one wishing to examine the -cabinet might do so, but nobody seemed to think the investigation worth -while. He then went on with an audible conversation with the plump Miss -Ellis. He described, first, the wonderful willingness of Little -Starlight, who was frequently sent by Flora with astral messages to her -mother in Alaska. Lulu played up to him. She saw spirits in the room -already--an old man was standing by the door, looking for some one. -Another spirit was sitting down beside that young lady in green. Vixley -regretted that he couldn't "get" materializing himself, though he had -tried all his life. He had occasionally "got" clairvoyance, but it -couldn't be depended upon. Clairaudience, of course, was easier. It -could be developed in any one who had patience. With his revolving -mirrors he could guarantee it in a month. He handed one of his business -cards to a woman in black who seemed interested. - -Flora Flint, pretty, dressed all in black, came in and joined the -conversation. She complained of being tired and headachey, she had -worked so hard that day. She stroked her forehead and rubbed her hands, -but her eyes were busy with her audience. - -She hoped that Stella wouldn't come to-night; Stella always "took it out -of her." That was always the way with spirits who had lately "passed -out," and who were not yet reconciled to their condition. Stella -insisted upon coming back all the time to communicate with her -mother--she was not only hindering her own "progression" but worrying -her mother by so doing. Stella, moreover, had not yet learned the Laws -of Being on the spirit-plane, and had not accustomed herself to the -principles of control. Why, it was sometimes positive agony to be taken -possession of by Stella. She came in with a bounce like, and it racked -the medium all over; and she didn't know how to withdraw her force -gradually and easily the way older spirits did. If Wampum, Flora's -Indian control, weren't always ready to assist her it would be something -terrible. Indians had special power over physical conditions. They -were Children of Nature, nearer to earth conditions than others. They -had more magnetism, and knew the secrets of natural medicine. Being -simple creatures, they were more easily summoned from the spirit -sphere--they hadn't "progressed" so far, and they were apt to be still -actuated by the motives and desires of the flesh-plane. Oh, yes, they -were often coarse and vulgar, but they meant well, indeed they did. -Wampum was a great help. - -As Flora Flint talked, her eyes ran over the room, looking carefully at -her audience. Some she bowed to smilingly; on others her glance rested -with more deliberation. She came back again and again to Dougal and -Maxim, and to Starr and Benton, in the rear of the room. She whispered -to Vixley, after this scrutiny, and he went out to hold a colloquy with -Ringa in the hall. Soon after, Mr. Spoll came in and took a seat -between the two groups of Pintos. He sat rigidly erect, his thin, bony -face impassive, with only his wild eyes moving. - -The Pintos listened with delight to Flora's jargon. Starr, placing his -note-book under his hat, on his knees, made copious notes. Maxim was -most impressed, almost persuaded by the seriousness of the dialogue. -Mabel was all ready to believe at the first promise of a marvel. Elsie -smiled, Benton yawned, Dougal hugged his electric torch fondly inside -his coat. - -Madam Spoll soon came in and seated herself between the two windows, -under a box containing a lighted kerosene lamp. Her face, usually so -complacent, was showing signs of perturbation. She was nervous, looking -round every little while suddenly, running her fingers through her short -cropped curly hair, throwing her head back as if she found it hard to -breathe. She was without a hat, and wore, instead of her professional -costume of silk and beads, a black cotton crape gown. - -Shortly after eight o'clock, Flora took a chair in front of the cabinet. -Vixley rose, fastened black shutters in front of the windows, closed the -door, put out the gas and turned down the lamp in the box, shading it -with a cloth curtain. The room was now so dark that one could scarcely -distinguish anything, until, when eyes became somewhat accustomed to it, -figures indistinct and shadowy could be vaguely recognized. Flora Flint -spoke: - -"I must ask you all to keep perfect silence, please. The spirits won't -manifest themselves unless the conditions are favorable and the circle -is in a receptive state. We can't do anything unless there's harmony, -and if there's any antagonistic vibrations present there's no use -attempting anything in the way of demonstration." - -After this prologue, she began, accompanied by the faithful, the -dreariest tune in the world: - - "We are _waiting_, we are _waiting_, we are _waiting_, just now, - Just now we are _waiting_, we are _waiting_ just now; - - To _receive_ you, to _receive_ you, to _receive_ you just now, - Just now to _receive_ you, to _receive_ you just now. - - Show your _faces_, show your _faces_, show your _faces_, just - now, - Just now show your _faces_, show your _faces_ just now! - - Come and _bless_ us, come and _bless_ us, come----" - -The fourth stanza was here interrupted by three sharp knocks. - -"Is that you, Starlight?" the medium asked. Two raps signified assent. -"Are you happy, to-night?" Two more knocks. - -"Starlight's always happy!" Vixley remarked aloud. - -"Yes, she _is_ a bright little thing," the medium assented. "She passed -out when she was only twelve; they say she's very pretty. Are there any -spirits with you, Starlight?" - -Two more raps. - -"Who's there--Wampum?" - -Two raps were given with terrific force. Everybody laughed. - -"Wampum's feeling pretty good, to-night," said Vixley. - -"Anybody else?" Flora asked. - -Yes, some one else. - -"Who? Is it Mr. Torkins?" - -Yes. - -The voice of a little old dried-up lady on the front row was heard, -saying, "Oh, that's Willie! I'm _so_ glad he's come. Are you happy, -Willie?" - -Yes, Willie was happy. Had he seen Nelly? Yes, he had seen Nelly, and -Nelly was also happy. And so, for a time, it went on, like an Ollendorf -lesson. - -Starlight was then asked if she could not control the medium, orally. -She consented, and soon, in a chirping voice the medium twittered forth: - -"Hello! Good evenin', folkses! Oh, I'se so glad to see you all, I is! -Hello, Mis' Brickett, you's got a new bonnet, isn't you? It's awfully -nice! Oh, I'se so happy. I got some candy, too. It's _spirit_ candy; -it's lots better'n yours." Here she laughed shrilly and the company -snickered. - -Mabel could scarcely hold herself in check and had to be pinched. -Starlight resumed her artless prattle, with Vixley as interlocutor. The -two exchanged homely badinage and pretended to flirt desperately. But -she refused this time to sit upon his knee. Finally an old man asked if -Walter were there. - -"Well, I just _guess_!" said Starlight. "He's my beau, he is! He giv'd -me this candy. Want some?" A chocolate drop flew into the middle of -the room. - -"That's real materialized candy!" Vixley explained. "We're liable to -have a good seance, to-night!" - -Starlight, after giving a few messages, announced that the spirits had -consented to materialize, and requested the company to sing. Flora went -into the cabinet, Madam Spoll turned the light still lower, and Vixley, -stating that the medium would now go into a dead trance, took the chair -in front of the cabinet. A doleful air was started by the believers on -the front seats: - - "I have a father in the spirit land, - I have a father in the spirit land, - My father calls me, I must go - To meet him in the spirit land!" - -then, - - "I have a mother in the spirit land," - -and so on, through the whole family, brother, sister and friend. - -The darkness was now thick and velvety. The sitters could not see what -they touched, and, gazing intently into the void, their eyes filled it -with shifting colors and spots of light conjured up by the reflex action -of the retina, as if their eyes were shut. As the song ended, there -came an awed silence to add to the stifling darkness as they waited for -the first manifestation from the cabinet. - -Then the hush was broken by excited whispers, and a tall form, dimly -luminous, was seen in the opening of the curtains. - -"Why, here's the Professor!" said Vixley, shattering the solemnity, and -making of this advent a friendly visitation. "Good evening, Professor, -we're glad to see you. It's good to have you here again!" - -A deep, slow voice replied, articulating its words painfully, "Good -eve-ning, friends, I'm ver-y glad to be here to-night!" Every word was -chopped into distinct syllables. The figure moved forward a little. It -was a typical ghost, a vague, unearthly, draped figure, wavering, -indistinct. The face melted into amorphous shadows. It glided here and -there noiselessly. - -The Professor was an affable celebrity, but somewhat verbose. He spoke -to several of the company by name, and interspersed his greetings with -jocular remarks to Little Starlight who was supposed to be flitting -invisibly about the room. "She's a lit-tul darlink, ev-ery-bod-y loves -lit-tul Star-light," he said, in answer to Vixley's comment. - -He retreated silently to the cabinet, and the curtains closed upon him. -Some one asked if they couldn't see the "Egyptian Hand" and Starlight's -voice from the cabinet gave assent. Forthwith it appeared and made a -hurried circle of the front part of the room, shedding a ghostly, -phosphorescent glow, and, on its way, patting the heads of the faithful. - -"Oh, I feel something so nice and soft!" cried Mrs. Brickett. "It's -perfectly 'eavenly--right on top of my head--what is it?" - -"That's _hair_!" Starlight called out. - -The Professor bellowed from the cabinet, "Oh, ho, ho, ho! You must-unt -mind lit-tul Star-light! She's so love-ly we don't mind her, do we?" - -Vixley gave the cue for another song to cover the next entrance. This -time it was _My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean_, its special appositeness -seeming to lie in the line, "Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me!" - -Another shorter form appeared and stood wavering in front of the -curtains, then, without a word, withdrew. - -"That's Stella," said Vixley. "She's only come to get progression. She -ain't very strong yet, so she can't stay but a minute, but we're always -glad to see her and help her along all we can with our thought." - -A woman, with a sob, rose to go forward. - -"No, not to-night, Mrs. Seeley; the medium ain't strong enough!" said -Vixley. - -How he recognized these spectral visitors nobody asked. They looked -just alike, except, perhaps, for height; all were wavering, white and -mysterious, without distinguishable faces. At the entrance of another, -like all the rest, Professor Vixley startled the company by saying, -suavely and patronizingly: - -"This is Mr. McKinley, friends. It's good to see you, Mr. McKinley. -I'm glad you come. We're _always_ glad to see you. Come again, come -any time you feel like it." He explained, after the spirit vanished, -that Mr. McKinley had had great difficulty in finding any medium -sympathetic enough for him to control, and he wandered from circle to -circle, hoping to establish communication with the earth-plane. - -The next visitor was no less than Queen Victoria. "That's good!" said -Vixley, "we're awful glad to see you, sure!" It now transpired that the -spirits whispered their names to him in entering. His conversation -became a bit dreary and monotonous and he failed to rise to his obvious -opportunities. - -A few forms, after this, came farther from the cabinet, and their -friends were permitted to embrace them. These favored few sat on the -front seats. Whispered dialogues took place--innocuous talk of troubles -and happiness, perturbed commonplaces that, had they not been sometimes -accompanied with genuine tears, would have been nothing but ridiculous. -The spirits were all optimistic and willing to help. Their advice, -usually, consisted of the statement that "conditions would soon be more -favorable." At intervals the singers broke out into new songs, There's -a Land that is Fairer than Day--_Nearer, My God, to Thee!_--and so on. -The air became oppressively close. The audience began to whisper, cough -and shuffle. Mabel, desirous of excitement, had nudged Dougal again and -again, but he had muttered "Not yet!" at each hint. - -The song _Over There_ had just ended, and the hush of expectancy had -fallen over the company when another form appeared and took a step -towards Vixley. - -"She says her name is Felicia," he announced. "Does anybody recognize -her?" - -"I do!" an unctuously mellow voice replied. - -"She says she has a message for you," said Vixley, "but she don't want -to give it out loud before all these people. Will you come up here?" - -Mr. Payson made his way with difficulty, in the dark, past those on his -row and came forward. - -"You can touch her, if you want to; she's completely materialized. Very -strong indeed for one outside Flora's band. She ain't got much -vitality, though, and you mustn't tax her too much." - -The old man reached forward and touched a cold hand. - -"Is it you, Felicia?" he asked tremulously. - -"Yes, dear!" was the answer, in a thick, hoarse whisper. "I'm glad to -see you here. You must come often. I've tried so hard to get you. I -want to help you." - -"You have a message for me?" - -She whispered, "Yes; it's about the child." - -"What is it?" His voice was eager. - -"I've found him." - -"Oh, I'm so glad! I've longed so to find him and do what was right by -him. You know, don't you?" All this was spoken so low that but few -could make out the words. - -"Yes, I know. I know you love him." - -"Where is he, Felicia?" - -"He's in this city. I shall bring him to you. Then we'll be so happy, -all three of us--you and I and our dear son!" - -Payson's voice rang out sharply in an angry exclamation: - -"It's all a damned fraud!" he cried. "This is not a spirit at all!" He -took a step forward. - -On the instant, before even Vixley could move, Dougal had jumped up and -run forward. As he dashed up the aisle he pressed the key of his -electric torch and cast a bright light upon the group by the cabinet. -The draped form had started back, Payson faced her, Vixley had risen -from his chair fiercely, Flora Flint's startled face peered through the -curtains. - -"Come on, Max!" Dougal shouted, and threw himself bodily upon the person -wrapped in the sheet. Maxim grappled at almost the same time, but before -him Vixley sprang in and rained blow after blow upon Dougal, who fell, -dropping his torch. Vixley then locked with Maxim. Starr and Benton -had run up, hurtling past Spoll, who had risen to block the way. They -were just too late to save Dougal, who had fallen, still holding his -captive fast. It was too dark to see what was happening, but Vixley's -oaths led them on, crashing over chairs, creeping and fighting through -the now terrified crowd. A match was struck somewhere behind them, and, -before it flared out, Starr and Benton fell on Vixley together and bore -him to the floor. - -The room was now horrid with confusion. A racket of moving chairs told -that every one had arisen in panic. Women screamed, and there was a -rush for the door. It seemed hours before there was a light, then Madam -Spoll reached up and turned up the light. At that moment Ringa flew -past her--she was thrown down and the lamp fell crashing upon the seat -of a chair beside her. There was an explosion on the instant. She was -drenched with blazing oil, and the flames enveloped her. - -Her screams rose over the tumult so piercingly that every one turned, -saw her, and fell back in fear and terror. She clambered to her feet -clumsily, shrieking in agony, ran for the door, tore it open and fled -down-stairs, to fall heavily at the bottom, writhing. - -Benton was that moment free, and the only man to keep his senses. He -burst right through the room, throwing men and women to right and left -and broke out the door after her, and down the stairs, tearing a -table-cloth from a table as he ran through the hall. He wrapped it about -her, the flames scorching his face and hands as he did so. The woman -was struggling so in her blind terror and torture that it was for a -moment impossible to help her. Then, in a few heroic moments he -conquered the fire. At last he called to the crowd above for help, and -they carried her up into a small side room and laid her upon a bed. - -Starr, meanwhile, still clung to Vixley while Maxim had held Ringa off. -Spoll was busy extinguishing the fire on the carpet. Then some one at -last lighted the chandelier, showing a score of white, frenzied faces, -men and women in wild disarray, chairs broken and strewn upon the floor, -a smoking, blackened place on the carpet where the remains of the lamp -had fallen. The room smelled horribly. - -Vixley lay in a welter of ornaments that had been swept from the mantel -in his struggle. He was still cursing. - -Dougal had held his captive fast through all that turmoil, yelling -continuously for a light. Now Mabel and Elsie, who had flattened -themselves against the wall, joining their screams to the din, crept -trembling up to him to see what he had caught. He turned the limp -figure in his arms and sought amongst the folds of the sheet, and turned -them away at the face. Elsie gave a little cry. - -[Illustration: He sought amongst the folds of the sheet] - -It was Fancy Gray. - - - - - *CHAPTER XVIII* - - *A RETURN TO INSTINCT* - - -Clytie Payson had come home after a two weeks' stay at Lonely with Mrs. -Maxwell, poised, resolute, calm. She seemed sustained by some inward -faith manifesting itself only in a higher degree of self-consciousness, -as of one inspired by a purpose. - -At breakfast, on the morning after the materializing seance, Mr. Payson -read the morning journal interestedly, so intensely absorbed in its -columns that he scarcely spoke to his daughter. But he did not mention -the evening's event, and was moody and morose. The affair had received -an extensive notice. Madam Spoll, it seemed, still lingered at the -point of death. Although Mr. Payson's name was not mentioned, he was -much disturbed and apprehensive of publicity. Clytie, noticing his -abstraction, did not disturb him with questions. - -After her father had left the house she went up to her workroom, put on -her pink pinafore and commenced her bookbinding. She worked at the -bench near the window where she could occasionally look out upon the -shadows that swept over Mount Tamalpais. The day was alternately bright -and lowering; it promised rain before night. - -At ten, as she was pausing from her work, with a lingering look out into -her garden, she saw a young woman coming up the path. It was Fancy -Gray, looking about her as if uncertain whether or not she had found the -right place. Fancy wore a black-and-white shepherd's plaid suit, bright -and tightly-fitted, which picked her out, in an errant glance of -sunshine, against the dull green shrubbery. She stopped for a moment to -look at the sun-dial, raising her white-gloved hand to her red and white -hat, then passed on toward the house, out of sight. - -Clytie went down-stairs herself to answer the bell, and opened the door -with a look of pleasure on her face. - -Fancy hesitated. "Are you busy, Miss Payson?" - -"Of course not!" Clytie held out both her hands. "If I were, I'd be so -glad to have you interrupt me, Miss Gray. Do come in! How charming you -look! I'm so glad to see you." - -Fancy accepted the welcome, looking long into Clytie's eyes, as if she -expected to find in them something of special significance. Her own -were steady, and had in them an evidence of resolve. - -"I've been hoping you'd come to see me, Miss Gray," Clytie began. - -Fancy stopped on the threshold. - -"Fancy Gray, please!" she corrected, with an elusive smile. - -"Fancy Gray--I'm glad to be permitted to use such a lovely name." - -"Make it Fancy, straight. Then I'll be more natural. I'm always stiff -and stupid when people call me Miss Gray. I always feel as if they were -talking about me behind my back." Fancy's smile broke out now, as if in -spite of herself. - -"I'd love to call you Fancy! It's good of you to let me!" Clytie -answered. - -Her smile was as delicious, in this gallant interchange. Fancy's smile -seemed as much a part of her natural expression as the brightness of her -open eyes; it was embracing, like a baby's. Clytie's had the effect of -a particularly gracious favor, almost a condescension, a special gift of -the moment. - -Fancy stopped again at the entrance to the library. - -"Say, this is awfully orderly," she said, "haven't you got some place -that isn't so tidy and clean? I'm afraid I wouldn't be comfortable -here, and I want to talk to you." - -Clytie looked at her amusedly. "So you're one of those persons who -think dust is artistic? Come up into my workroom, then. You'll find -that untidy enough." - -Up-stairs they went, to the workroom. - -"My!" said Fancy. "If you call this place untidy, you ought to see my -room! Why, it's as neat as a pin!" She entered, nevertheless, and -looked about her with curiosity at everything. - -"Haven't you a looking-glass here?" she asked in astonishment. - -"No, but I'll get you one." - -Fancy laughed. "I couldn't live an hour without a mirror," she -confessed. "You're really queer, aren't you! And you don't even wear -jewelry! I'm afraid modesty isn't my favorite stunt. It's very -becoming to you, though. I suppose it doesn't go with painted hair." -She sighed. - -"I don't believe that even you could improve on nature, Fancy!" - -"I'm sure nature intended me for a blonde, and got careless. Did you -ever know a brunette who didn't want to be a blonde?" She looked at -Clytie's tawny hair with evident admiration. - -Clytie shook her head, smiling. "I'd give you my hair for your -complexion." - -"Done!" Fancy rubbed her handkerchief across her pink cheeks, and -handed the bit of cambric to Clytie. After this comedy pantomime, she -took the little silver watch from her chatelaine pin, opened the back -door, where, inside, was a bright and shiny surface, and regarded her -face, pouting. Then she looked across at Clytie. - -"You're so pretty, Miss Payson! You're four times and a half as pretty -as I am!" - -Clytie ventured to touch her little finger to the dent in Fancy's upper -lip. Fancy retreated a step. "My dear," Clytie asserted, "if I had -_that_, I'd be sure that men would be crazy for me till I was seventy -years old!" - -Fancy shook her head. "I guess I can't beat that. That's what Gay calls -'the pink penultimate.' And the worst of it is, I suppose it's true! -But I'll never be seventy if I can help it." She turned away, suddenly -grown serious. The room grew dark. It was as if Fancy's mood had -turned off the sunshine. - -"What are you doing, now?" Clytie asked. - -"Oh, just drifting." Fancy's voice was not hopeful. - -Clytie took her hand. "Why don't you come here and stay with me for a -while? I'd love to have you." - -Fancy gently released her fingers in Clytie's and did not look at her. - -"Oh, I wish you wouldn't be quite so kind to me, Miss Payson; I can't -stand it!" Her mouth trembled; her gaze was serious. - -"But it would be so kind of you to come!" Clytie urged. - -Fancy smiled wanly. "I can't do it, Miss Payson, I won't explain. I -never explain. It bores me. But I simply can't." - -"Well, you know, if you ever do want to come--" - -"I'll come, sure!" Fancy looked at her now, with fire in her eyes, not -flaming, but burning deep. "Whenever I forget what a thoroughbred is -like, I'll come! Whenever I need a teaspoonful of flattery to last me -over night, I'll come! Whenever I want to know how much finer and -kinder women are than men, I'll come! Whenever--" - -She would have gone on, but Clytie interrupted her. "Whenever you want -to make me very happy, whenever you want to do me the greatest favor in -your power, you'll come!" - -Fancy's eyes narrowed and twinkled. "I'm all out of breath trying to -keep up with you! I give it up. Take the pot!" She turned to the bench -and examined the tools in a box. - -"Ugh!" she commented. "They look like dentists' instruments!" - -"I don't believe _you_ ever had to suffer from them! It doesn't seem -possible!" said Clytie. - -In response, Fancy engagingly showed her double row of small, white, -zigzag teeth. Then, with a sudden access of frivolity, she favored -Clytie with an exhibition of her little, pointed tongue, which she -erected and waved sidewise. This done, she dropped into a chair again. -The sun had returned and visited the room, making a brilliant object of -her jaunty figure as she sat under the window. She wore the fine gold -chain with the swastika that Clytie had given her. She fingered it as -she spoke. - -"Miss Payson," she said, "I'm going to ask you something that perhaps is -none of my business." - -"Ask what you please," said Clytie, but she looked at Fancy with -something like alarm. - -"Have you seen Mr. Granthope lately?" - -Clytie shook her head. "No." - -"Could you tell me why not?" - -"I'm afraid I can't, Fancy." - -"I'm terribly worried about it. I'm sure there's some trouble. Oh, -Miss Payson, I know he's awfully unhappy. And I can't bear that!" - -Clytie walked to the window and looked out, standing there with her -hands behind her back. There was a faint line come into her forehead. -"I'd rather not talk about it," she said quietly. - -"But I'm sure that if there is any misunderstanding, I might help you. -Oh, Miss Payson, I don't want to be impertinent, but I can't bear it to -think that he isn't happy. Can't you tell me about it?" - -Clytie turned slowly, a look of pain deepening on her face. "I can only -tell you this, that I was mistaken in him." - -"Mistaken? How?" - -"Not in quality, so much as in quantity, if you know what I mean. I -know what he's capable of, what he has done, and what he can do. I -don't feel any anger or resentment, for what I know, now, that he has -done. I feel only pity and sorrow for him." - -"But what _has_ he done? That's just what I want to know. You mean -that it was something definite?" - -"Yes." - -"And--you believed it of him?" Fancy could not restrain her surprise. - -"I had to believe it. Oh, Fancy, don't you understand? It was the sort -of thing that no woman could forget. It was of no importance except as -showing that he wasn't so far along as I had thought. It merely means -that I'll have to wait for him. And I shall wait for him. I'm so sure -of him that I can wait, though it hurt so at first that I couldn't -possibly see him. That's all." - -Fancy bit her lip. There was a little, determined shake of her head -that Clytie did not see. "Miss Payson," she said, "you must tell me -what it was. I've heard Professor Vixley say a thing or two that aroused -my suspicions." She went on slowly, with an effort. "I know that Frank -adores you--that he has, ever since that night you came with him to his -office, after his accident." - -"Oh, but this was after that," Clytie said wearily. "It was something he -told Vixley." - -"After that! Why, Frank hasn't had anything to do with Vixley or Madam -Spoll since then, except to try to get them to leave your father alone." - -"I saw his own handwriting, Fancy; the very notes of what I had talked -about to him--even the little intimate things--they nearly killed me. -And Professor Vixley told me himself that Frank had been giving him -information right along, up to only a few weeks ago--while we had been -so happy together--oh, to think of it!" - -Fancy's face had varied in phase, like the opening and shutting of the -clouds. Now it was eager, rapt "Oh, I understand, now!" she cried, -jumping up. - -"Why, Miss Payson, Vixley can no more be trusted than a gambler! Don't -you know that he's wild with Frank? Vixley's got it in for him; he is -trying to ruin him! Don't you know that Frank has been trying to buy -him off, just to save your father from being cheated by them? Why, -Frank offered Vixley a thousand dollars to leave town, only last week. -Vixley told me so himself!" - -"A thousand dollars? That's impossible." Clytie's voice was still -hopeless. - -"I can't imagine where he got the money, but he had it with him, in -cash. Vixley said so." - -"How long ago was that?" - -"Two weeks ago, about." - -Clytie reflected. "I saw Frank on the platform at Stockton, two weeks -ago. I wonder--" - -"Yes, it was the day after he got back, I remember now." - -"Oh!" Clytie's face lightened as if another person had come into the -room. She looked away, as if to greet an unseen visitor. Her hand was -raised delicately. "I see." Her voice came suddenly, definitely. Then -she stared hard at Fancy. "Oh, Fancy, I'm almost frightened at it! I -don't dare to believe it. Oh, if I've made a mistake in suspecting him. -If I've accused him to myself unjustly, how can I ever bear it! But I -saw those notes--" - -"And you didn't ask him to explain them?" Fancy spoke very slowly. She -did not accuse, she only wondered. - -"No." Clytie's tone had dropped low, and she went on, fluttering -hurriedly. "I simply went away. Oh, think of it--it was as -melodramatic as a play--that's the way women do on the stage, isn't it? -But you see, I _did_ know awful things about him. Fancy--he had told -me, and I suspected more. There was something in the notes about my -present to father, and his birthday had only just passed. That proved -to me that Frank's notes had been made recently, I thought." - -Fancy looked at her with a quizzical expression. "I knew a fellow once -who used to call me a marmoset. I guess that's what you are, you poor -dear! Why, Frank told me about your binding a book for your father the -day he first came here. You must have spoken of it then." - -"I did!" Clytie fairly threw out. "I remember it now! And that was -_before_--before he really knew me, wasn't it! Oh, what shall I do, -Fancy?" Her look was, for the moment, as helpless as a child's. - -"Do?" Fancy repeated, shrugging her shoulders. "Why, the telephone wires -are still working, aren't they?" She spoke a bit dryly. She had done -her work, now, and relapsed into a sort of apathy. - -"And I prided myself on my intuition, and on my fairness!" Clytie went -on, unheeding her. "I knew that I saw in him what no one else saw--not -even you, who knew him so well, and who wouldn't suspect him of anything -so base as that! To think of my being the victim of such a claptrap -trick!" - -Fancy raised her eyebrows and watched her quietly. "What I can't -understand now, is why you're wasting your time talking about it." - -Clytie stared at her, her face still shadowed by her emotion. Then her -smile came rapturously. She turned and ran down-stairs to the -telephone. - -Fancy walked to the window forlornly. There she leaned her head on her -arm against the pane and shut her eyes, as if she were fatigued. It was -black in the west, and the Marin shore was shrouded in the murk. The -harbor was covered with dancing whitecaps. The storm was imminent. She -stayed there, motionless, until Clytie's step was heard coming up, then -started into life again and gave herself a shake. - -"He's coming right up!" Clytie announced. - -Fancy immediately looked at the blue enameled dial of her little silver -watch. "Well, I must be going." - -"Oh, please stay!" Clytie exclaimed, holding her tightly. "I really -want you to, so! It's you who have done it all." - -Fancy smiled at last, and released herself. "Yes, I've spent my life in -straightening out other people's snarls," she said. "Sometime I hope -some one will be able to straighten mine. But I've got a date, really." - -"Oh, do tell me that you're as happy as I am," Clytie exclaimed. "I've -been so selfish, I'm afraid! I don't know who he is, but I'm sure he -must be fine, if you care for him. How I wish I could help you, dear!" - -"The only way you could, I'm afraid, is by lending me some of your -brains--and I'm afraid they wouldn't fit my noddle. He's awfully -clever, and I feel like a fool when I'm with him." - -"But you do really love him, don't you?" Clytie asked anxiously. - -Fancy nodded gravely. "I guess yes. As much as I can love anybody. -I'm afraid of him. That's one sign, isn't it?" - -"And you can't tell me who he is?" - -"Not yet." - -"Fancy, when you're married, I'll give you a wedding." - -"I accept!" said Fancy Gray. - -She turned to go, but hesitated a moment, as if she could hardly make up -her mind to ask the question, yet couldn't go without asking it. "Miss -Payson," she said finally, "did you tell Frank that I had been here?" - -"Of course I did!" - -"What did he say?" - -"He said that it was like you. That you always played fair." - -"Good-by!" Fancy said, and suddenly breaking through the reserve that -had so far constrained her, she laid her cheek for a moment to Clytie's. - -Clytie kissed her. The two walked down-stairs arm in arm. At the front -door Fancy paused and said: - -"Take my advice, Miss Payson, and don't explain. Never explain. If you -once get into that habit you're lost. It only wastes time. Get right -down to business and stay there. Your head belongs on his shoulder, -remember that. All Frank will want to know is what you're going to do -next. Keep him guessing, my dear, but never explain! Now, I'm going to -try and get home before it rains." - -She turned up her collar, gave a quick toss to her head, and walked -rapidly down the garden path. At the gate she turned, gaily gave a -mock-military salute, a relic of her old vaudeville manner, then ran -down the steps. - -Clytie watched her till she had disappeared. Then she went up-stairs -and changed her frock. - -Fancy's sage advice was wasted. There were explanations, a torrent of -them, when Francis Granthope came, explanations voluble, apologetic, -impetuous, half-tragic, semi-humorous. The equilibrium of Clytie's mind -was completely overturned and its readjustment came only after a -prolonged talk. Every trace of the priestess, the princess, the -divinity was gone forever, now. She was more like a mother rejoicing at -the restoration of a lost child, for whose absence she blamed her own -neglect and carelessness. It was all too delightful for Granthope to -wish to cut it short. He was hungry for her. - -He, too, had his explanations and his news. For two weeks his hands had -been tied. Clytie had disappeared from his ken, and he had had no way -of tracing her, for it was useless to telephone to the house or to ask -of her father. There had been nothing for it but to wait in the hope -that whatever had caused the interruption would come right of itself. He -had never really felt sure of Clytie--her acceptance of him had seemed -too wonderful to be true, a fortune to which he was not really entitled, -and which he might lose any instant. Whether or not Vixley or Madam -Spoll had effected the separation, he had no way of determining. - -He told then of his trip to Stockton where, by establishing his identity -by means of the finger-prints, he had succeeded in obtaining possession -of the money he had deposited there so many years ago. This had -amounted, with interest, to several thousand dollars. He had gone -immediately to Vixley to seal the bargain they had made, but the -Professor had absolutely refused to accept any payment for leaving town. -Indeed, he had hinted that he had schemes on foot which would bring him -an income that Granthope could not hope to rival. How matters stood -between Mr. Payson and the mediums, neither Granthope nor Clytie knew. -They had not yet heard of the materializing seance, and the situation -was, so far as they knew, the same as before. It was agreed that there -must be another attempt to rescue Mr. Payson, and this time through -Doctor Masterson, who was probably venal. - -Granthope, meanwhile, however, had perfected his plans. He had -sufficient money, now, to warrant his devoting himself to the study of -medicine, a project he had so long contemplated that, with the start he -had already made, would make it possible for him to practise in two or -three years. He had, therefore, abandoned all idea of going upon the -stage. Clytie approved of this with considerable relief. The prospect -of reviving gossip by Granthope's appearance as an actor had caused her -much dread. They had already been much talked about. Society had -discussed them until it had grown tired. Nothing was sensational enough -to last long as an object of curiosity in San Francisco, and a -half-dozen other affairs had caused them to be almost forgotten. - -After this first flurry of talk, in which she had come down from that -lofty spiritual altitude where she had dwelt for the last two weeks, she -was sheer woman, thrilling to his words and to the sense of his -nearness. As they had progressed in intimacy her maternal instinct had -asserted itself more and more frankly towards him. She had treated him -at times almost as if he were a boy whose education she was fondly -directing. She had lost some of that feeling, now, in virtue of her -mistake; she was curiously humble. - -He, too, had somewhat changed. Before Clytie's direct gaze he had lost -something of his power; he had been afraid of her. In this readjustment -the normal phase of courtship was restored, and, feeling his way with -her, delicately perceptive as he always was with women, he began to -notice that she would willingly resign the scepter--she would gladly be -mastered if he would but put forth his power. She was learning to be a -woman; she would be conquered anew. - -He was to learn all this slowly, however; so slowly that, at every -manifestation of her inclination he had a moment's pause for the wonder -of it, tasting the flavor of her condescension, marveling at his own -conquest. To him, as to all lovers, his sweetheart had been a woman -different from all her sex. He was now to find that she was not one -woman but two--that in her the subtly refined spirit of his vision -shared her throne with that immemorial wild creature of primal impulse -who is the essence of sex itself; who, subdued or paramount, dwells in -all women, saints and sinners alike. He had, in virtue of his victory, -merged those two warring elements in her soul into one. She had come -into her birthright, not lost it. She seemed a little frightened by the -metamorphosis, but there was a triumph of discovery, too; he reveled in -its manifestation, but he was still timorous before the new, splendid, -potent being he had invoked. There was an intoxicating excitement, now, -as he saw in her traces of every woman he had known. It was as if, -after exploring a strange land and meeting its people, he had at last -come upon the queen who combined all the national characteristics and -fused them with the unique distinction of royalty. - -They had, also, as yet, a whole lovers' language to manufacture, -metaphors to weave into their talk, words to suggest phrases, phrases to -stand for moods and emotions. But such idioms are untranslatable--they -will never bear analysis. For love is a subjective state, whose -objective manifestations are ridiculous. No one can see a kiss--it is a -state of being. - -But into this relation they entered, as children go to play, making -their own rules of the game, establishing their own sentimental -traditions as lovers use. With such vivid imagination as both possessed -the pastime became deliciously intricate; it had pathos and comedy, wind -and dew and fire. They spoke in enigmas, one's quick intuition -answering the other--there were flashes so quick with humor that a smile -was inadequate in satisfying its esoteric message. An observer would -have seen Clytie, her eyes alight, her pose informed with gracile -eagerness, waking from her gentle languor to inspired gesture--Granthope -pacing the room, erect, virile, dark, sensitive in every fiber to her -presence, flinging a whimsical word at her, or with a burst of abandon -pouring himself out to her to her delight. There was an intellectual -stimulation as well as an emotional pressure in their intercourse that -forbade any monotony of mood. There was a tensity of feeling that -broke, at times, into waves of laughter; but there were moments, too, -when the sudden realization of their relation, with all its doubts, its -unknown paths, and secret, fatal web of circumstance, impelled them to -make sure, at least, of the moment, and to defy the future with an -expression of their present happiness. So they came down, and so they -went up. From height to depth, from shadow to light he pursued her. He -chased, but she was ready enough to be caught! She held a hand to him -and helped him up; they met in delightful solitudes of thought; they -walked together through the obvious. That he should so follow her, that -she could understand, there was wonder enough, even without that other -diviner communion. It was a lovers' play-day, now; there was time -enough for the lovers' ritual and the worship at the shrine. For this -day was the untellable, impossible delights of wonder. They took -repossession of their kingdom, no longer jeoparded by doubt. - -It was Clytie, who, at last, grew more bold, more definite. She rose -and put her two hands on Granthope's shoulders, smiling at him with -pride in her possession. - -"I can't wait any longer," she exclaimed. "I've suffered enough. -Before anything else comes between us, let's settle it so that nothing -can separate us. You see, my instinct has triumphed after all. I'm -sure of you--indeed, I always have been. I must speak to father -to-morrow, and, if you like--" She hesitated, in a sudden, maidenly -access of timidity. - -"We'll be married--instantly? Dare you?" He crushed her impetuously in -his arms, not even this time without a wonder that she should permit -him, not quite daring even yet to believe that she was more than -willing. - -She freed herself with an expression that should have reassured him. -"There's nothing, now, to be gained by waiting, is there?" - -"Nothing, if you can live on what I can provide." - -She laughed at the very absurdity of it. "It may be hard, but I think I -can manage father," she went on. "He's too fond of me really to oppose -what I'm set on." - -"I only wish I could do something to assure him, to propitiate him," -said Granthope. "My position has been so undignified that I've had no -chance. I have been meeting you surreptitiously, and I suppose he -suspects me of being after your money." - -"While the truth is, I'm after yours!" - -"I wonder if, after all, it _is_ mine?" he said thoughtfully. "I have -never been able to find any heirs of Madam Grant--and her last message -to me seemed to be that I should have what she left." - -"Oh, it's yours, I'm sure!" she said. - -"I long so to know about her! If I could once convince your father of -my sincerity there's much I'd like to ask him." - -"Father is a strange man. He is often unreasonable and prejudiced in -his judgment and treatment of people, but there's a warm vein of -affection underneath it all. There's something hidden, something almost -furtive, even in his attitude toward me, sometimes, that I can't -understand. I happened on a queer evidence of his emotional side only a -little while ago. There is a big trunk up-stairs in our garret where my -mother's things are stored. It's always kept locked; I've never seen -the inside of it. Well, I started to go up into the attic for -something, and as I was half-way up the steps where I could just see -into the loft, I heard a noise up there. Father was on his knees, in -front of that trunk. He was examining something in his hand. There was -a tenderness and a pathos in his posture--I got only one glimpse of him -before I went down again. You know my mother died when I was about five -years old--soon after that day at Madam Grant's. He never seems to want -me to talk about my mother at all; he evades the subject whenever I -mention her. I think that he must have been very fond of her, and it's -still painful to discuss her." - -"Have you ever asked him about that clipping about Felicia Gerard?" - -"Why, he's as reserved about her, too. Isn't it. strange? But I'm sure -that she was Madam Grant--there's a mystery about her I can't fathom. -Do tell me more about her. You don't know how queer it seems that I -have actually seen her." - -He gave her all he knew of the strange, mad woman's life--it was not -much, as he had been so young then--his straying into her rooms, her -adoption of him, his education, his loneliness, his love. She warmed to -him anew as he told the story. - -"Ah, that's the part of you I know and love the best!" she exclaimed. -"How good you were to her! If anything could make me love you more, it -would be your devotion to that poor, lonely, ravaged soul. It seems as -if you have served me in serving her, and I would like to think that I -could pay you back, by my love, for all you gave her. It stirs me so to -think of her pain and her despair!" - -"Let's make a pilgrimage!" he said impulsively. "I haven't been inside -the Siskiyou Hotel since I was a child, though I've passed there often -enough. It's a pretty disreputable place now, I'm afraid." - -"Oh, yes!" Clytie caught up with his eagerness. "Think of seeing that -place again, where we first met! It will be a celebration, won't it! -How long is it? I don't quite dare think." - -"Twenty-three years!" - -"And all that time we've been coming together--" - -"It was a wide curve my orbit traced, my dear!" - -"It's one of the mysteries of life that while we seem to be going away -from each other, we're as really coming together. But we'll travel the -rest of the course together, I'm sure!" - -They set out, forthwith, on their quest for what had been. It had begun -to rain, but their spirits were unquenchable by the storm. The -excursion was, indeed, an adventure. Granthope himself felt his fancy -aroused at the thought of the revisitation of the old home. It had a -double charm for him now, as the spot where the two women who had most -affected his life had been. - -He left her under the shelter of an awning while he went into the saloon -to interview the bartender who rented the rooms in the building. The -man had heard of Madam Grant, though it was so long since she had lived -there. There were still stories told of her wealth and her -eccentricities, as well as of her occult powers. The rooms had even, at -one time, been reported to be haunted, but they had always been let -easily enough. At present they were occupied by some Russians. Yes, -Granthope might go up; perhaps they would let him in. - -They ascended the narrow, dingy stairs together. The wall was grimy -where many dirty elbows had rubbed the plastering; the rail was rickety -and many balusters were missing. Granthope rapped at the door in the -hall with a queer, sick feeling of familiarity, though it was as if he -had read of the place in some story rather than a place he had used to -inhabit. - -A Jewess opened the door, her sleeves rolled to the elbows, her face -plump and good-natured. She smiled pleasantly. - -"Would you mind our coming in to look at your rooms?" he asked. - -"What for?" she said. - -"Why, I used to live here when I was a child, and I'd like to show this -lady the place." - -"If you want to, you can, I suppose. It ain't much to look at now, -though. We have to take what we can get, down here." - -Her curiosity was appeased by the coin which Granthope slipped into her -hand, and she sat down to her sewing phlegmatically, looking up -occasionally with little interest. - -The place was, of course, much changed. The windows were washed, the -floor scrubbed and partly covered with rag rugs. It was well furnished -and well aired. Granthope pointed but the little chamber where Madam -Grant had slept, where his own bed had been, and, finally, the closet -from which he had first spied upon her. Clytie looked about silently, -much moved, and trying to bring back her own recollections of the place. - -"If I close my eyes, I can almost see it as it was," she said. "I can -almost get that strange feeling I had when I came here. If I could be -here for a while alone I think I could see things. I'd like to go into -the closet again. Let's see if the crack is still in the door." - -It was still there. She asked permission to go inside, and the Jewess -rather uncomfortably agreed. The place was filled with clothing; it was -close and odorous; the shelves were filled with boxes, rags and -household belongings. Clytie went in rather timidly. - -"Go over where I sat in the front room, that day," she said. "I want to -look through the crack, as you did. I'd like to be locked in, too, but -the key is gone." - -She closed the door on herself while Granthope walked to the bay-window -and looked idly out. It was such a strange sensation, being in the old -place again, that for some moments he lost himself in a reverie; then, -turning and not seeing Clytie, he walked rapidly to the door and opened -it. - -She stood there, leaning back against the wall of clothing with a -wondering, far-away expression, her eyes staring, her face white, her -breath coming fast through her parted lips. He took her hand, thinking -that she was fainting, and led her out. She recovered herself quickly -and drew him into the front room. - -"I saw my father while I was in there," she whispered. "He was looking -about the room furtively, as if searching for something. What can it -mean? I'm afraid something has happened to him--I'm alarmed about it. I -must go right home and see if anything's the matter. I had a strange -feeling, like a pain, at first, in the dark, and I was frightened. Then -I saw him. Come, let's go away!" - -She went up to the Jewish woman and shook hands with her, thanking her -for the courtesy. The old lady patted Clytie's hand approvingly. - -"That's funny, what everybody wants to see my room for," she said, "but -I don't care when I get a dollar every time, do I? Last week they was -an old gentleman here, like you was, to see it!" - -"What was he like?" Granthope inquired. - -"Oh, he was bald-head, with a spectacles and some beard." - -Granthope and Clytie exchanged glances. - -"He must have been down here for something," she said. "I can't make it -out. I'm afraid that there's some trouble. It worries me." - - - - - *CHAPTER XIX* - - *FANCY GRAY ACCEPTS* - - -The rain had come in a vigorous downpour, washing away the mantle of -dust that had so long lain over the city. The storm finally settled -down to a steady pelting of heavy drops, lightened occasionally to mild, -drizzling showers, only to be resumed with greater violence toward -night. Every one was glad for the flushing the town received. There -was a novelty and excitement about the rain, a relief after the parched, -monotonous months of cloudless skies. Men and women walked the streets -smiling, the women especially; for that free, fearless gaiety, the -almost abandoned good nature of San Francisco girls, was not to be -quenched. - -On Thursday evening, Fancy Gray, to all appearance her old, gay self, -smiling as if she had never a care in the world, went down to Fulda's to -dine with Blanchard Cayley. - -In a city of restaurants, Fulda's restaurant was unique. The Pintos had -discovered the place, and by their own efforts had made it. Maxim and -the artists of the quarter had gained Fulda's consent to a new scheme of -decoration, a plan so mad and impudent that the room was now a -show-place for visitors. The walls were covered with cartoons and -sketches as incongruously placed, perhaps, as the embossed pictures on a -bean-pot, but what was lacking in art was made up for by a bizarre, -esoteric humor that was the perpetual despair of the uninitiated. - -Maxim's chief contribution, a huge cartoon with caricatured portraits of -his friends, had the place of honor; it was a superb piece of low comedy -in crayons. Beyond this the sketches became more grotesque, the -inscriptions more cryptic. Quotations from Rabelais, from Brantome, -from Chesterton, Whistler and Wilde were scattered here and there, -mingling with fiery burlesques of Bohemians, Philistines, lobsters and -artists. No one, not even the authors, knew the point of most of these -jokes well enough to explain them intelligibly, and it was this baffling -suggestiveness which drew patrons to the restaurant and kept its charm -piquant. One saw at each table new-comers with questioning faces -pointing to legends in Greek and Esperanto and Yiddish, and wondering at -the inscrutable accompaniment of illustration. It was a sort of mental -and artistic hash spread upon the walls. The humor grew fiercer as one's -eyes rose to the ceiling. There, a trail of monstrous footprints, -preposterous, impossible, led, with divagations, to a point above the -central table which was always reserved for the Pintos. To crown this -elaborate nonsense, they had drawn a frieze below the cornice with -panels containing the names of the frequenters of the place, alternated -with such minor celebrities as Plato, Browning and Nietzsche. - -In a larger city, such a place would have had a temporary vogue, and -then, after having been "discovered" by reporters and artists, have sunk -into the desuetude of impecunious rural diners-out, one of the places of -which one says: "Oh, you should have seen it two years ago." But San -Francisco is of that fascinating size, half-way between town and city, -and of that interesting age where the old is not quite forgotten and the -new not quite permanently instated,--it is, above all, so delightfully -isolated that it need not ape the East. Though it has outgrown some of -its Western crudities, it is significant that such a restaurant as -Fulda's could become and remain a resort for the gathering of the -cleverest spirits in town. It had already achieved that reputation; it -was patronized by the arts. The visitors, for the most part, either did -things or wanted to. One was apt to know almost everybody there. If -one didn't know Mr. Smith, one's friend did; or one knew Mr. Smith's -friend. - -To this place entered Fancy Gray, drifter, the day after the -materializing seance, in a new, blue mackintosh and a pert but -appropriate hat. She nodded, to Felix, at the counter, and, following -underneath the trail of footprints on the ceiling, came, jovially as -ever, to the central table. Dougal, Elsie and Benton were sitting at -the far end of it. Dougal sprang up with a grin. - -"Come and sit down quickly and tell us all about it!" he exclaimed. -"What happened after we left?" - -She sat on the side of a chair without removing her coat, and gave them -her ever-ready smile. "Say, you didn't raise a rough house or anything, -did you? I thought it would be a case for the coroner before you got -through. If I'd known you were going to be there I wouldn't have been -in the cast. Wasn't it awful? Madam Spoll was pretty badly burned, I -hear." - -"I hope I'll never have to see anything as horrible as that again," said -Benton. "But I did what I could. I hope she'll recover." - -"We waited till the police and the ambulance came and then we got out," -Dougal added. "There was nothing more to do but testify. Did you see -the account of it in the paper? I believe they're going to have more -about it, and play it up for all it's worth. What became of you, Fancy? -Last I saw of you you had skipped into that back room." - -"Oh, as soon as I had put on my shoes, I got out as quick as I could by -the back way. I didn't know whether the house was going to be pulled or -not. I'd had trouble enough for one evening. I'm all black and blue -now, from Dougal's holding me." - -"How did Vixley feel, I wonder? He must have been pretty sore." - -"Sore! I guess he was, in more ways than one. But Flora Flint was the -funniest! They found her in the cabinet, half dressed, after all the -crowd was cleared out--she had been afraid to move." - -"How did you happen to be there, anyway, Fancy?" Elsie asked. "I -thought you hadn't done anything with that medium crowd for years." - -It was not often that Fancy was embarrassed, but she seemed so, now. - -"I haven't. I don't know why I did--except--they asked me, and I wanted -to oblige somebody--and I needed the money. I had forgotten I had told -you to go to Flora's." - -"Aren't you going to eat?" Dougal asked. Fancy usually dined at the -central table several times a week. Cayley's attentions were already on -the wane. - -"No, I've got free eggs to-night," was the reply. - -Her eyes had been on the door of the restaurant, and, at this moment, -they were rewarded by the sight of Blanchard Cayley, who entered and -looked about the room for her. "Well, I'm going to meet my royal -meal-ticket," she said, rising and waving a hand at him. He nodded, and -came down to her, bowing to several friends on the way, and the two took -a table beyond the Pintos. She faced Dougal who made disapproving faces -at Cayley's back. - -The room filled up. One long table was decorated, with flowers, and a -party of ladies and gentlemen from up-town soon came in and took seats -there. They began immediately to chatter and look about the walls, -commenting upon the decorations. At other tables Fancy saw artists, -newspaper men and men about town, who had been pointed out to her -before. To some of them she nodded. Cayley knew many more. It was like -a great family dining-room. - -"Well?" said Cayley, in his peculiar tone that made of one word a whole -sentence. - -"I evidently made a hit. I hope you're satisfied, now." - -"You certainly brought down the house." There was a sarcastic, almost a -surly note in his voice. - -"I'm awfully sorry things went wrong, Blan," she said. "I wouldn't have -done it if I'd known the crowd was going to be there. I'm sorry now I -consented to take part. I hope I'll never see Vixley again. He was -horrid to me." - -"I've seen Vixley. He says Madam Spoll isn't expected to live." - -"Isn't it awful? I didn't want to do it, Blan, you know I didn't; I -wouldn't have done it for anybody but you. I don't see how you can bear -to have anything to do with Vixley. Ugh! What _did_ you want me to do -it for, anyway?" - -"Oh, only to find out some things, that's all. Of course I couldn't do -it myself, could I?" - -It was evident, now, that he had been drinking. He had not shown it in -his walk or in his voice, but there was a slight glaze to his eyes that -told the story. He had been abstinent for so long that Fancy wondered -at it. He ordered a flask of chianti and poured two glasses. - -"You oughtn't to begin again, Blan--don't!" she said anxiously. -"Water's good enough for me." - -"Pshaw! Don't worry, I'm all right. You don't think I'm drunk, do -you?" He laughed harshly. - -"N--no, but I don't like it." - -"Forget it, Fan; nobody ever saw me drunk. I only get confidential, -that's all. _In vino veritas_. There's a double meaning there. -Exoteric and esoteric." - -At this moment the waiter appeared with a stone bottle and two Chinese -cups. "Mr. Dougal sent this over with his compliments. It's _sake_," -he explained. Fancy kissed her hand to Dougal, and poured for herself -and Cayley. - -"Ugh! It's horrible!" she said. "Isn't it?" - -"No, it's the real thing; I like it." Cayley drank it all and helped -himself to more. - -"Did you find out what you wanted to know?" said Fancy, proceeding with -her dinner daintily. - -"No, the row came just in time to queer the whole thing." - -"Of course you know that if Dougal had had any idea it was me--" - -"Oh, it wasn't Dougal, it was old man Payson--he caught on--" - -Fancy laid down her fork, and narrowed her eyes. "_Payson?_" she -repeated. - -"Yes, of course; the old chap you were talking to, weren't you?" - -She looked at him with a strange expression. "Payson? I didn't think--I -was too excited to realize--I mean--who is he, Blan?" Her hands fell -into her lap and clasped one another tightly. - -"Oh, an old boy I know, a good sort, but a fool. No fool like an old -fool, is there?" He poured another glass of chianti, without noticing -how intense she had grown. His eyes were dallying with two good-looking -girls across the room. - -"Is Miss Payson--the one who was with you at Carminetti's--his -daughter?" - -He looked up at her sharply, now, but her frown meant nothing to him. -He returned to his tagliarini. "Yes--why?" he said. - -"Tell me about her, Blan, please," Fancy begged, with an unusual air of -anxiety. - -"Nothing to tell, except she's a disdainful beauty, and a little too -haughty for me. Fastidious, pre-Raphaelite, and super-civilized and all -that. You wouldn't care for her, any more than you would for a -Utamaro." He smiled to himself at what Fancy had once said of Japanese -prints. - -"H'm!" Fancy put her chin in her hands, and kept her eyes on Cayley. -"So that old gentleman was her father," she said in a low unimpassioned -voice. "It was Miss Payson's father I was hired to fool!" Suddenly she -spoke up more sharply, but with a tremor in her voice. "What did you -want me to play spirit for, Blan? Out with it!" - -He saw now that something was wrong. It made him peevish. - -"What do you know about Miss Payson, anyway?" he demanded. - -"I've--seen her." - -"Well, what did you think of her?" - -"I thought she was a thoroughbred." - -"Indeed?" Cayley thought it over, looking somewhat abstractedly at a -picture on the wall, entitled: "_Je congnois la faulte des Boesmes._" -Then he turned with an open countenance to her and said, with an air of -candor: - -"You see, Fancy, I happened to know Payson was in the clutches of Vixley -and this Spoll woman--they were sucking his blood. I thought I could -rescue him if you would play spirit, and then tell Payson afterwards -what a fraud it all was. Understand now?" He smiled blandly. - -"I see," she said, and went on with her dinner. - -"Then again," Cayley remarked, "I thought you wouldn't mind getting even -with Granthope." - -This brought her up again with an angry flush. "What has he got to do -with it?" - -"Well, he played it rather low down on you, didn't he?" - -"What d'you mean?" - -"Oh, he fired you." - -"He didn't! I left of my own accord." Fancy's lie came impetuously. - -"Did you know that he's after Miss Payson, now?" - -"So I've heard." - -"You're remarkably amiable about it, my dear. You didn't really care -for him, then?" His smile was unendurable. - -"I never explain. If people can't understand without explanations, they -never can with them." - -"Then you don't mind it at all?" he insisted. - -"No--I don't mind it. I'm glad." The words came from her slowly, this -time. - -"What d'you mean?" - -Fancy was silent. - -"Well, don't you think he ought to be--shown up a little?" He was on -his third cup of _sake_, but his hand was as steady as ever. - -Her lips parted, and her breath came suddenly for an exclamation, but -the protest got no further than her eyes. She dropped them to the -table-cloth, where she marked crosses with her little finger-nail. -Dougal was making overt attempts to attract her attention and the -diversion was maddening. - -"What d'you mean?" she asked. - -"If you were really a good enough friend of mine to help me out--" - -"Oh, I'll help you out, Blan; what d'you want me to do?" she said quite -eagerly, now. He did not notice her suppressed excitement. - -"Well--I suppose you know a good deal about him?" - -She nodded wisely. - -"And some things, I suppose, might make considerable difference if they -came out? You know what I mean." - -"Do you want me to tell them?" she flung fiercely at him. - -He took alarm, and, reaching across the table, attempted to touch her -hand. She evaded him. "Of course I don't want you to do anything -dishonorable--but--you said yourself she was a thoroughbred--do you -think it's quite the square thing to stand by and let a man like him -marry a nice girl like Miss Payson?" - -"I thought you said she was supercilious!" - -"No, super-civilized, that's all. Call it statuesque. But all the same -I hate to see her get stung--don't you, now? Come!" He leaned back and -folded his arms. - -"She's too haughty for you, I thought!" - -"Did I say that? Well, I'm a friend of the family, you know--I want to -do what I can for them." - -She reached nervously for her wine-glass, and her hand, trembling, -struck the chianti flask and tipped it over. Before she could set it -straight it had spilled into a plate, drenching a napkin which lay -partly folded there. The linen was turned blood red. Cayley laughed at -her carelessness loudly. Dougal looked across again, but Fancy avoided -his eye. - -"Blan," she said, leaning slightly towards him and speaking low, "do you -love me? Or are you just playing with me?" - -He seemed to consider it. Then he said, very earnestly, and evidently -with a subtle psychological intent, "I'm only playing with you, Fancy!" -And he smiled. - -Her fingers drummed on the table. - -"But I'll never treat you the way Granthope did," he added. - -Her hands came together again in her lap. "That'll be all about -Granthope," she said through her teeth. - -"See here," he insisted, "you know what a cad he's been as well as I do! -He's trying to marry Miss Payson, damn him! I've seen her with him -often. If you'll just go up to her and tell her a few things--you -needn't violate any confidences--just enough to put her on her guard--we -can head him off and spoil that game!" - -"Oh!" Fancy's breast heaved violently. "I _see_!" she exclaimed -slowly. Her eyes blazed at him. "So _that's_ what you've been after -all this time, is it? I think I know you now, Blanchard Cayley!" - -Her eyes did not leave him as her right hand stole over the cloth, -reaching for the wine-soaked napkin, and grasped its dry end. Slowly -she rose from her seat, stood up, and leaned far over the table towards -him. - -Then, raising her hand suddenly, she struck him as with a flail, once, -twice across the cheek, across the eyes, leaving a purple stain whose -drops trickled down into his beard. The sound was heard all over the -room, and drew all eyes. For a moment she watched him put up his arm to -ward off the blows; then, with a gasping sob, she turned and ran swiftly -down to the door and out into the street. - -Cayley, his face now reddened not only by the wine, but from the furious -flush which burned in his cheeks, sat for a moment as if paralyzed. -Then he wiped the mark with his napkin, automatically. His face worked -like a maniac's. He rose deliberately, reached for his hat and strode -down the aisle after her. - -Dougal saw the pursuit just in time. Quickly his foot shot out into the -passage, and Cayley, passing, tripped over it, and fell headlong upon -the floor. Dougal, cigarette in mouth, leaped out of his chair and held -him lightly. Benton jumped up and stood by him, ready. Cayley was -mumbling curses. They helped him up politely, and Dougal muttered: - -"Go back to your table, Mr. Cayley, and sit down there for five minutes. -If you don't, by God, I'll kill you!" - -The room buzzed with exclamations; every one stared. - -Cayley stared sullenly, his mouth open, then turned back and sat down -and put his hands to his forehead, leaning on the table. - -Dougal conferred with Benton. "You wait here, Benton, and wherever -Cayley goes, you follow him. I'm going out after Fancy. There'll be the -hell to pay to-night if we don't find her. I've never seen her that way -before, and it looks like trouble to me!" - -With that, he hurried out of the restaurant. - - -She had run out into the rain without either coat or umbrella. Turning -down Commercial Street in the direction of the ferry, she walked -hurriedly, as if bent on some special errand; but, at the foot of Market -Street, she hesitated, then crossed, walked along East Street past the -water-front, saloons and sailors' boarding-houses, stumbling and -slipping on the uneven, reeking, board sidewalks. Then she went up -Howard Street, dark and gloomy, all the way to Fourth Street. Here she -made back for the lights of Market Street, crossed, looked idly in at a -drug store window for fully five minutes. A man came up and accosted -her jocosely. She turned and stared at him without replying a word, and -he walked away. - -Then, almost running, now, she flew straight for Granthope's office. -Looking up from the street, she saw a light in his window. She ran up -the stairs and paused for a moment to get her breath outside his office -door. Just at that moment a voice came to her from inside, and then a -man's answered, followed by a chorus of soft laughter. She stood -transfixed, biting her lip nervously, listening. The woman's voice went -on, evenly. - -Fancy staggered slowly down the stairs and went out again into the -storm. Down Geary to Market Street, down Market Street, hopelessly, -aimlessly. Here the rain beat upon her mercilessly in great sheets. -Again she stopped, looking up and down wildly. Finally she turned the -corner and went into the ladies' entrance of the "Hospital." A waiter -led her to a booth where she could be alone. - -The "Hospital" was, perhaps, the most respectable saloon in the city -where women were permitted. The whole rear of the establishment was -given over to a magnificently fitted-up department devoted to such women -as were willing to be seen there. One might go and still retain a -certain relic of good-repute, if one went with a man--there were married -women enough who did, and reckless girls, too, who took the risk; but it -was on the frontier of vice, where amateur and professional met. - -From a wide, carpeted passage booths opened to right and left; little -square rooms, with partitions running up part way, screened off with -heavy red plush portieres hanging from brass rods. Each of these -compartments was finished in a different kind of rare wood, handsomely -designed. Arching from a heavy, molded cornice, where owls sat at -stately intervals, an elaborately coffered ceiling rose, and in the -center was suspended a globe of cathedral glass, electric lighted, -glowing like a full moon. - -Fancy hung up her jacket to dry and ordered a hot lemonade. Then she -went down to the telephone and called up Gay P. Summer's house number. -She got him, at last, and asked him, tremulously, to come down to the -"Hospital" and see her. She would wait for him. He seemed surprised, -but she would not explain, and, after a short discussion, he consented. -She went back to the "Toa" room and waited, sipping her drink. - -All about her was a persistent babble of voices, the women's raucous, -hard and cold, mingled occasionally with the guffaws of men. Across the -way, through an opening of the portieres, she could see an over-dressed -girl tilted back in her chair puffing a cigarette. White-aproned waiters -passed and repassed, looking neither to the right nor left. - -She was staring fixedly at the wall, her elbows on the table, her chin -on the backs of her hands, when Gay entered a little crossly. She -looked up with a smile--almost her old winning smile--though it drooped -in a moment and was set again with an effort. - -"Hello, Gay, here I am again!" she said. She gave him her cold little -hand. - -He drew off his rain coat and sat down, as fresh and pink as ever, the -drops still glistening on his cheeks. "What's up?" he said, touching -the electric button and pulling out his cigarette case. - -"I'm through with Blanchard Cayley," she said, watching him. - -"It's about time," he remarked. - -"Aren't you glad to see me, Gay?" - -"Sure!" he answered, without looking at her. He scratched a match, and, -after he had lighted his cigarette, looked up at the waiter who appeared -in the doorway. "Two Picon punches," he said. Then he turned to her -and folded his arms. - -"What can I do for you, Fancy?" - -He seemed, somehow, to have grown ten years older since the time they -had frolicked together at the beach. His cheek was as blooming, his -figure as boyish, but his eyes were a little harder. His voice showed a -little more confidence, and his pose was quite that of the man of the -world. Much of his charm had gone. - -"Gay," she said, "we were pretty good friends, once." - -"That's what we were, Fancy. How much do you need?" - -She recoiled as if he had struck her and buried her face in her arms on -the table. Her shoulders shook convulsively. "Oh, I didn't want to -graft, Gay, don't think that! That's not what I called you up for, -really it isn't!" - -"What was it, then?" he asked, growing a little more genial. - -The waiter appeared with two glasses on a tray and set them down on the -table. Fancy looked up and wiped her eyes. When they were alone again -he said, "Fire away, now. I've got a date at ten. I'm sorry I said -that, but I didn't know but you were hard up, that's all." - -"Gay," she said, "do you remember what you said that day we went down to -Champoreau's the first time?" - -"I believe I said all that crowd had the big head, didn't I?" - -"That isn't it, Gay. I wonder if you've forgotten already?" - -"I guess I have. Lots of things have happened since that." He blew a -lung-full of smoke into the air over her head. - -"You've said it several times since then. Do you happen to remember -asking me to marry you?" - -"I believe I did make a break like that, now you speak of it. And you -threw me down good and hard, too." - -She got his eyes, and smiled. "You said that--whenever I changed my -mind and gave the word--you'd marry me." - -"Did I?" Gay moved uncomfortably in his chair. - -"You did, Gay, and when you said it, I thought you meant it. I believe -you did mean it then. Oh, Gay, dear, I want to quit drifting! I want -to settle down and be a good wife to some man who'll take care of me, -some one I can love and help and be faithful to! Oh, you don't know how -faithful I'd be, Gay! I'd do anything. I'm so tired of drifting--I'm -so afraid I'll go on like this! I'm not a grafter, Gay, you know I'm -not! But I want to get married and be happy!" - -"You ought to have said that two months ago," he said, knocking the ash -from his cigarette with exquisite attention. - -"Don't you want me now?" she said, shaking her head pathetically. She -reached for his hand. "I like you, Gay, I've always liked you and I -think I could learn to love you sometime. But I'd be true to you, -anyway. Take me, please, Gay! I can't stand it any longer." - -"For Heaven's sake, don't talk so loud, Fancy; somebody'll hear you! -Say, this isn't fair! I gave you a good chance, and you threw me down. -Why didn't you take me then? I was crazy about you, but no, you -wouldn't have it!" - -"Then you've got all over it? You don't want me now?" - -He had a sudden access of pity, and stroked her hand. "Why, I couldn't -make you happy, Fancy? You know that. You wouldn't have me marry you if -I wasn't in love with you, would you? I suppose I have got over it; I -was fascinated, and I thought it was the real thing. We all make -mistakes. I've been about a good bit since then, and I know more of the -world. I'm sorry, but it's too late." - -She looked away, and for a moment her eyes closed. - -"I guess nobody wants me, then. Men get tired of me, don't they? I'm -good enough to play with for a little while, but--I can't make good as a -wife. Never mind. I thought perhaps you were in earnest, that's all. -I'm sorry I bothered you. You can go, now!" - -He went up to her and put his hand on her shoulder. She shook it off, -shuddering. "Go _away_!" she cried. - -He took his hat and left her. - -For a quarter of an hour she sat there, and then, looking up haggardly, -stared about the room. She consulted the little chatelaine watch that -dangled on her breast. Going up to a mirror, she attempted to -straighten her hair, but her hands shook so that it was of little use. -She was, even in that warm room, shivering. Then she rose and went down -the carpeted passage, past luxurious paintings, past the compartments -filled with giggling women and tipsy men, out into the night again. - -The rain had stopped at last, but it was cold and gusty. Great detached -masses of cloud pied the heavens, and in the clear spaces of sky the -stars shone, twinkling brilliantly. She turned down Market Street. - -Half-way to the ferry she met Dougal, almost falling into his arms -before she recognized him. - -"Well, I've found you at last!" he exclaimed. "Lord, how wet you are! -Come right along home with me, and Elsie will give you some dry -clothes." - -"Oh, no, thank you, Dougal, but I can't, really! I've got to go to -Oakland to-night." - -"Nonsense! Wait, I'll get a cab." - -"I can't go, honest I can't. Please don't tease me!" - -"Well, I won't leave you, at any rate!" He put his arm through hers. - -"You can come down to the ferry, if you want. I'm going to Oakland." - -"All right, I'll go, too. But you're cold! You oughtn't cross the bay -to-night. You ought to go right to bed." - -"Oh, I'll be warm enough soon!" - -They walked along for a while in silence, till she stopped him to ask, -"Have you got a pistol with you, Dougal?" - -"Yes, why?" - -"Lend it to me, will you?" - -"Not on your life! What do you want it for?" - -"Never mind, I want it. Please, Dougal!" - -"Not after that scrap I saw to-night. I don't want you in the papers -to-morrow morning. You've had trouble enough without a shooting scrape. -If anybody's going to shoot Cayley, let me do it!" - -She sighed, and gave it up. - -"Do you want to tell me what's the matter, Fancy?" - -"No, Dougal, I'd rather not. It doesn't matter." - -"You'll get over it all right, I expect." - -"Oh, yes, I'll get over it." - -"Anyway, you just want to remember you can call on me any time for -anything you want, Fancy, barring guns. Don't get blue when you have -good friends to fall back on. We're with you to a finish, old girl!" - -"You're a dear!" She flashed a smile at him. - -He grinned, and gripped her arm tighter. Then he began to dance her -down the sidewalk. Fancy grew hilarious and laughed aloud, excitedly. -They began to sing, as they marched, a song they had learned by rote, -from Maxim. Neither of them well understood the words: - - "Josephine est mor-te, - Morte en faisant sa---- - En faisant sa prie-re - A bon Saint Nicolas, - Tu-ra-la! - Ca n'va gu-ere-- - Tu-ra-la! - Ca n'va pas!" - - -They kept it up in this vein till the Ferry Building was reached. There -he bought her ticket and took her to the gate. She still smiled, still -flung him her odd jests, still clung affectionately to his arm. - -"Well, good night, Fancy Gray!" he said at last. "Don't do anything -foolish till I see you again!" His grin was like a blessing. - -She seemed loath to leave him, and drew back from the gate. She -unpinned the little silver watch from her coat and handed it to him. - -"Say, Dougal, would you mind taking this to a jeweler and having it -adjusted for me?" she said suddenly. "It doesn't go very well, and I -won't have time to attend to it. Don't forget it. I'll tell -you--perhaps you'd better give it to Elsie--and let her take charge of -it." - -He took it and put it in his vest pocket. "All right," he said, "I'll -give it to her." - -"Tell her to be careful of it, I'm awfully fond of that watch!" she -added. Then her fingers went to the little gold chain with the swastika -at her neck and she started to unclasp that, too. - -"And, Dougal--" - -"What?" - -She left the chain where it was. - -"Never mind, it's nothing. Good-by, Dougal, you may kiss me if you want -to!" - -"Do I want to!" He gave her a bear's hug, and a brother's kiss. - -She was still unready to go and stood looking at him whimsically. Then, -impulsively, she seized his arm and drew him back under an arc light, -and held up her face. - -"Dougal," she said, "will you answer me something absolutely honestly?" - -"Sure!" - -"Do you think I'm pretty?" - -He studied her a moment, and his lips worked silently. Then he said -deliberately: - -"Well,--I don't know as I'd call you exactly a _pretty_ woman, but -you're something more than that--" - -"Cut it out!" she exclaimed dryly; "I know all the rest! I've heard it -before. Stop before you tell me I have 'fine eyes' and am good-natured. -I know! 'The bride was a distinguished-looking brunette of great grace -and dignity, and wore her clothes well!' Never mind, Dougal, you're -honest, anyway," she added. - -He opened his mouth to protest, repentance in his eyes, but she blew a -kiss at him and darted through the gate. He watched her till she passed -through the inner door, where she waved a last time. - - -She walked rapidly on board, went up the stairway, and hesitated by the -door of the cabin. A girl passed her, looked back and then returned -timidly. - -"Excuse me, but ain't you the young lady that works in Mr. Granthope's -office?" she said. - -"I did, but I'm not there any more. He's gone out of business," Fancy -managed to reply. Her quick eye had recognized the girl as Fleurette. - -"I'm sorry for that. He's nice, isn't he? He was awfully kind to me, -and he said it was on account of you. Did you know he wouldn't even -take any money from me?" - -"Wouldn't he?" said Fancy. "That's like him." - -"And he gave me such a lovely reading, too. It just saved my life, I -think, and everything came out just as he said it would, too. Don't you -think he's awfully good-looking?" - -"Yes, very." Fancy was breathing hard. - -"And he's so good. Why, I 'most fell in love with him, that day. I -guess I would have, if I hadn't been in love already. I was awfully -unhappy then. I'm the happiest girl in the world, now! Say, weren't -you awfully fond of him?" - -"Yes." - -"I guess he was of you, too. He said some awful nice things about you!" - -"Did he?" Fancy's eyes wandered. - -The girl saw, now, that something was wrong, and evidently wanted to -make up for it. She spoke shyly: "Say--there's something else I always -wanted to tell you. I wonder if it would make you mad?" - -"Go ahead," said Fancy. - -"You won't think I'm fooling?" - -"No." - -"Well," Fleurette almost whispered, "I think you're _awful_ pretty!" - -With that, she turned suddenly and went into the cabin. - - -Fancy went down-stairs slowly, biting her handkerchief. The lower deck -was deserted; she looked carefully about, to make sure of it. She -glanced down at the water which boiled up from the paddle-wheels and -shuddered. - -Overhead the stars now shone free of cloud, in the darkness of space. -San Francisco was like a pincushion, stuck with sparks of light. She -crossed to the port side of the boat, and saw Goat Island, a blotch of -shadow, with its lighthouse, off the bow. It grew rapidly nearer and -nearer. It fascinated her. When it was directly opposite, a few hundred -yards away, she clenched her teeth and muttered to herself: - -"Well, there's nothing in the race but the finish! This is where _I_ get -off!" - -Clambering to the top of the rail, she took a long, deep breath, then -flung herself headlong into the bay, and the waters closed over her. - - - - - *CHAPTER XX* - - *MASTERSON'S MANOEUVRES* - - -Francis Granthope ran up the two flights of stairs like a boy, and -pounded at Masterson's door. The doctor appeared, with his celluloid -collar in one hand and a half-eaten orange in the other. He was -coatless and unshorn, although his office hours, "from nine till four" -had already begun. He looked at Granthope, took another bite of his -orange, and then, his mouth being too full for clear articulation, -pointed inside to a chair by the fireplace under the shelves full of -bottles. - -Granthope dumped a pile of newspapers from the chair and sat down. The -sun never came into the room, and the place was, as usual, chill, dim -and dusty. A handful of fire fought for life upon the hearth. Behind a -fringed portiere, which was stretched across the back of the room, the -doctor's cot was seen, dirty and unkempt. - -Masterson finished the last of his orange with a gulp, went to a bowl in -the corner where a skull was perched on a shelf, and washed his hands. -After he had wiped them and rubbed a blotch of juice from the front of -his plaid flannel waistcoat, he put on his coat and sat down by the -fire. - -"Well, I must say you're quite a stranger. How's things, Frank?" he -said casually. - -"So-so," was the reply. "I've given up my business." - -"So I hear. What's the matter? Sold out?" asked Masterson. - -"Oh, no, I just threw it all up and left." - -"That's funny. I should have thought you could have got something for -the good-will. What you going to do now?" - -"Nothing. I didn't come here to talk about myself, Masterson, I came to -talk about you." - -"Well, well, that's kind of you," said the healer, buttoning on his -collar. "That's what you might call friendly. You didn't use to be so -much interested when you was wearing your Prince Albert. What makes you -so anxious, all of a sudden?" - -Granthope smiled good-naturedly, and poked at the fire till it blazed -up. "See here," he said. "I can show you how to make some money -easily." - -"That sounds interesting. I certainly ain't in business for my health. -Fire it off. I'm listening." - -"There's no use beating about the bush with you. And I'm a man of my -word. Isn't that so?" - -"I never heard it gainsaid," said Masterson. "I'll trust you, and you -can trust me as equally." - -"Well, I'll tell you how I'm fixed. You know that Madam Spoll and -Vixley have got it in for me--they've tried to run me out of this town, -in fact." - -"Oh, _that's_ why you quit? Lord, I wouldn't lay down so easy as that!" - -"Well, I'm out of it, at any rate. I won't say why, but they tried to -hurt me, fast enough. Now I want to give them as good as they sent." - -Doctor Masterson grinned and clasped his hands over his knees. "That -suits me all right, I ain't any too friendly myself, just at present." - -"Then perhaps we can come to terms. What I propose to do, is to -checkmate them with Payson." - -Masterson rubbed his red, scrawny beard. "That ain't easy," he said -reflectively. - -"Easy enough, if you'll help me." - -"How?" - -"Simply by giving the whole business away to Mr. Payson. He'll believe -you when he won't me." - -"Well, what is there in it?" - -"You know what my word is worth. If you help me, and we succeed in -getting Mr. Payson out of the net, I promise you a thousand dollars." - -"H'm!" Masterson deliberated. - -"Of course, they know I'll spoil their game if I can, so I take no -chances in telling you. So it's up to you to decide whether you'll -stand in with them, or with me. I can do it alone, in time, but if you -help, so much the better. You stand to win, anyway. It isn't worth -that much to work with them, as things are, and you know it." - -"I don't know about that," said Masterson craftily, watching his man; "a -thousand ain't much for giving away pals." - -"They're not your pals. They've tried to freeze you out--Fancy Gray has -told me that from the inside. They're going to get rid of you in short -order. Besides, you'll have the credit of rescuing a credulous old man -from the clutches of swindlers." - -"That's true," said the doctor. "They're a-bleeding him something -awful. It _had_ ought to be stopped, as you say. I don't believe in -grafting. I'm a straight practitioner, and if any of my patients want -fake work they can go somewheres else." - -"Well, what d'you say, then?" - -Masterson thought it over as he warmed his hands. His reverie was -interrupted by a knock on the door, and he rose to open it. An old, -shabby woman stood in the hall. - -She was wrinkled and veined, with yellowish white hair, vacuous, watery -gray eyes, a red, bulbous nose, and a miserable chin. She had nothing -of the dignity of age, and her thin, cruel lips were her only signs of -character. All other traits were submerged by drink and poverty. Her -skirt was ridiculously short and her black shawl ragged and full of -holes. She breathed of beer. - -"How d'you do, Mrs. Riley?" said Masterson. "I'm sorry to say I'm -engaged at present and you'll have to wait. Can't you sit down on the -stairs for a while?" - -"Oh, dear, but that fire looks good!" she whined. "Can't I just come in -and have a seat to rest my bones on? I'm feeling that miserable this -day that I can't stand." - -"Let her come in," said Granthope, rising. "I've said all that's -necessary at present, and if you decide to do what I want, we can talk -it over later." - -The doctor grudgingly admitted her. She tottered in and took the chair -by the fire gratefully. She had looked at Granthope when he first -spoke, and now she kept her eyes fixed on him as he stood by the window. - -Masterson went over to him and spoke in a lower tone. "I got to have -time to think this thing over," he said. "Then, if I accept your offer, -we got to discuss ways and means, and so forth and so on. I won't say -yes, and I won't say no, just at present. I'll think it over and let you -know, Frank." - -The woman started at the name. Her lower lip fell pendulous. Her eyes -were still on Granthope. - -"When will you let me know?" he asked. - -"I tell you what I'll do; I'm busy to-day, and I got an engagement -to-night. Suppose I come down to your office after theater time? Say -ten-thirty. Will that do?" - -"I'll be there," Granthope replied. "I'll wait till you come. The -outside door is locked at eleven o'clock. Be there before that." - -He took his hat and walked to the door, giving a look at Mrs. Riley as -he passed. Her face was now almost animated, as her lips mumbled -something to herself. Granthope ran briskly down-stairs, and Masterson -closed the door. - -"Who's that?" Mrs. Riley piped querulously. - -"That? Why, Granthope, the palmist," said the doctor, busying himself -with some bottles on his table. He took one up and shook it. - -"Granthope? No, sir! Don't tell me! I know better." - -Masterson was upon her in a flash. "What d'you mean?" he demanded, -taking her by the arm. - -"I know, I know! You can't fool Margaret Riley!" she croaked. - -He shook her roughly. "You're drunk!" he exclaimed in disgust. - -"No, I ain't!" she retorted. "I'm sober enough to know that fellow; -I've seen him before, I tell you." - -"Who is he, then?" - -"Oh, d'you want to know?" she said craftily. "What would you give to -know, Doctor?" - -"I'll give you Hail Columbia if you _don't_ tell me!" he cried. "I'll -give you a bloody good reputation, that's what I'll give! I'll give you -the name of being a poisoner, old woman, and I'll take care that your -neighbors know all about your three husbands, if you don't look out!" - -"Oh, my God! Don't speak so loud, Doctor, please! I'll tell you if -you'll promise to leave me alone. I didn't mean nothing by it." - -"Let's have it then." The doctor's eyes gleamed. - -"Did you ever hear tell of Madam Grant?" she asked. "I reckon it was -before your day." - -"Yes, I did. What about her?" - -"Why, this young fellow you call Granthope, he used to live with her." - -"He did!" The healer came up to her and looked her hard in the eye. -"How the devil do you know that?" - -"Why, I've seen him there, many's the time. I used to know the Madam -well. Me and her was great friends. Why, I was there the day she -died!" - -"Were you? I never knew that." - -"We used to call him Frankie, then. He didn't call himself Granthope at -all. I expect he made that up." - -"Is--that--_so_!" Masterson grinned joyously. - -"Let's see--there was some money missing when the boy left, seems to -me." - -"Lord, yes, and a sight of money, too. Madam Grant was a grand miser. -They say she had a fortune stowed away in the dirt on the floor. She -run a real estate business, you know, and she done well by it. I expect -that's where Frankie got his start. Strange I never seen him afore." - -"You're positively sure it's the same one?" - -"Didn't I stare hard enough at him? Why, just as soon as I come in the -door I says to myself, 'I've seen you before, young man!' Then when you -called him Frank, it all come back to me. I'll take my oath to it." - -"Lord, I could kick myself!" said Masterson. "To think of all these -years I've known him and ain't suspected who he was!" - -"You won't give me away, then, will you, Doctor?" the old lady added -tearfully. - -"I'll see, I'll see." He returned to his medicine, thinking hard. - -He proceeded with his treatment of Mrs. Riley, plying her all the while -with questions relative to Francis Granthope and Madam Grant. Mrs. -Riley knew little, but she embroidered upon what she had seen and heard -till, at the end, she had fabricated a considerable history. Her fancy, -under fear of the healer's threats, was given free rein; and Masterson -listened so hungrily, that, had there been no other inducement, her -pleasure in that alone would have made her garrulous. She went away -feeling important. - -That afternoon, Doctor Masterson, loaded and primed with his secret, -took his rusty silk hat and a Chinese carved bamboo cane and walked -proudly up Turk Street to hold Professor Vixley up for what was -possible. - -The Professor welcomed him with a show of politeness. - -"How's Madam Spoll?" was Masterson's first question, after he had spread -his legs in the front room. - -"Gertie's pretty bad," said Vixley. "The doctors don't hold out much -hope, but you know the way they linger with a burn. I wonder could you -do anything for her?" - -"I ain't any too willing, after the way she treated me last time I was -here," said the healer coldly. "I ain't never been talked to so in my -life!" - -"Oh, you don't want to mind a little thing like that, Doc, it was only -her way. Business is business, you know. Besides, if Gertie _should_ -be took from us it may make a good deal of difference, after all. I -don't just know what I'll do." - -"I tell you what you'll do," said Masterson, gazing through his -spectacles aggressively, "you'll take me into partnership, that's what -you'll do!" - -"Oh, I will, will I? I ain't so sure about that, Doc. Don't go too -fast; Gertie ain't dead yet." - -"I rather think I can make it an object to you, Vixley. I may go so far -as to say I _know_ I can." Masterson leaned back and noted the effect -of his words. - -Vixley looked at him curiously and raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? I -didn't know as you was in a position to dictate to me, Doc, but maybe -you are--you never can tell!" - -"I can just everlastingly saw you off with Payson if I want to; that's -what I can do!" Masterson rubbed in. - -"How?" - -"Through something I found out to-day, that's how." - -"I guess I could call that bluff on you, Masterson, if I wanted to. We -got him sewed up in a sack. You can't touch us there." - -"Lord, I can blow you sky-high!" He arose and made as if to walk to the -door. "And, by the Lord Harry, I'll do it, too! I've given you a fair -chance, you remember that!" - -Vixley took water hastily. "Oh, see here, Doc, don't go to work and be -hasty! You know it was only Gertie who wanted to freeze you out. I -don't say it's impossible to make a deal, only I don't want to buy a pig -in a poke, do I? I can't talk business till I know what you have to -offer." - -"Oh, you'll find I can make good all right," said Masterson, returning -to his seat with his hat on the back of his head. "See here; as I -understand it, you're working Payson on the strength of something about -this Felicia Grant, he was supposed to be sweet on. Is that right?" - -"Well, suppose we are, just for the sake of the argument. What then?" - -"Now, they was a little boy living with her, and he disappeared. Am I -right?" - -"You got it about right; yes." Vixley's eyes sparkled. - -"Well, then; what if I know who that boy was, and where he is now? How -would that strike you?" - -"Jimminy! Do you?" Vixley cried, now fairly aroused. "I don't deny -that might make considerable difference." - -"I should say it would! I should imagine yes! Why, you simply can't do -nothing at all till you know who he is, and what he knows! And I got -him! Yes, sir, I got him!" - -"Who is he?" Vixley asked, with a fine assumption of innocence. - -Masterson laughed aloud. "Don't you wish't you knew?" he taunted. -"I'll let you know as soon as we come to an agreement. What d'you think -about that partnership proposition now?" - -"Good Lord, ain't I told you all along I was willin'? It was only Gertie -prevented me takin' you in before! Sure! I'm for it. Gertie's in a bad -way, and I doubt if she'll be able to do anything for a long time, even -if she should recover. Meanwhile, of course, I got to live. It won't -do to let Payson slip through our fingers. Let's shake on it, Doc; I'm -with you. You help me out, and we'll share and share alike." - -"Done!" said Masterson. "I kind of thought I could make you listen to -reason. Now you can tell me just how the land lays with Payson." - -"Wait a minute! You ain't told me who the kid is, yet." - -Masterson hesitated a moment, unwilling to give up his secret till he -had bound the bargain, but it was, of course, obviously necessary. He -leaned toward his new partner and touched Vixley on the knee. "It's -Frank Granthope!" - -Vixley jumped to his feet and raised his two fists wildly above his -head, then dropped them limply to his side. "_Granthope!_" he cried. -"My God! Are you sure?" - -"Positive. Mrs. Riley recognized him to-day at my office. She used to -know Madam Grant, and see him down there when he was a kid. Why? -What's wrong about that?" - -"Hell!" Vixley cried in a fury. "It's all up with us, then!" - -"Why, what can Granthope do?" - -"Do? He can cook our goose in half a minute. And if Payson finds this -out, it's all up in a hurry." - -"I don't see it yet," Masterson complained. - -"Why, here it is in a nutshell. Payson has an illegitimate son by Madam -Grant--he's all but confessed it, and we're sure of it. We had it all -fixed up to palm off Ringa on him for the missing heir--see? They was -big money in it, if it worked. But let Granthope get wind of the game, -and he'll walk in himself as the prodigal son, and we're up a tree. -He's thick with the Payson girl already, and unless we fix him, he'll -make trouble. If we could only keep Payson from findin' out who -Granthope is, and if we could keep Granthope from findin' out that -Payson had a son, we might make it yet, but it's a slim chance now." - -"It is a mess, ain't it?" said Masterson, scratching his head, and -studying the pattern on the carpet. "Of course this son business puts a -different face on it for me. But perhaps we can pull it off yet. Have -you seen Payson to-day?" - -"No--and there's another snag. Did you see the paper this mornin'? The -reporters have been around to-day, and I'm afraid they's going to be -trouble about that materializin' seance. If they print any more, I'll -have to pack up and get out of town till it blows over. What in the -world made Payson suspect anything, I don't know! Fancy done her part -all right. But I ain't afraid of that. We can get him back on the hook -again all right. All we got to do is to lay the fakin' on to Flora, and -she'll stand for it. What I want to do next is to develop him." - -"Yes, I see you got one of them mirrors over there," said Masterson, -going up to it inquisitively. "It's slick, ain't it? Let's have a look -at it!" - -Vixley sprang in front of him and held his arm. "For God's sake, don't -touch it! Don't touch it!" he cried fearfully. "Leave it alone. I -don't want it started. I can't stand the damned thing! I'm going to -use crystal balls instead. That thing gets on my nerves too bad." - -Masterson, surprised, turned away. "What did you get it for, anyway? I -should think you'd got 'em again, by the way you talk." - -"There's bad luck in it. I'm going to send it away. I'm afraid of it, -somehow." - -Masterson laughed, and resumed his seat, to discuss with the Professor -the details of the plot. He did not seem much interested in the plans -for the future, however, and seemed anxious to get away, yawning -occasionally. He was now smug and confident, while Vixley seemed to -have lost his nerve. The threatened newspaper revelations had cowed him. -Madam Spoll was left out of the discussion; it was evident that her part -of the affair was finished. Masterson left, promising his assistance if -matters quieted down, and Payson could be brought under their influence -again. - -By dinner-time he had thought the matter over to his satisfaction, and -he therefore enjoyed himself with beer and cheap vaudeville till -half-past ten. Then he strolled down Geary Street and marched up to -Granthope's office. - -It had taken all Granthope's resolution to treat with Masterson, but it -had seemed the only way, at present, to deal with the situation. Mr. -Payson's part in the materializing seance had not yet transpired. - -Masterson took a chair, crossed his legs and began: - -"Well, Frank, I've been thinking over your proposition to-day, and I've -decided that I've got to raise the ante." - -"I thought that would be about your style," Granthope returned, "but I -think I've offered you about all it's worth." - -"Oh, it ain't only my help that's worth it, it's you that's worth it, so -to speak. I'm getting on to your game, now, and I happen to know that -you can afford to pay well; you see, I didn't happen to know so much -about this Payson girl, as I do now. If you're tapping a millionaire's -family, why, I want my share of it." - -"I guess there's no use discussing the matter, then, if that's your -theory. I can't possibly pay more than what I've offered." - -"I'd advise you to hear me out, Frank," Masterson went on. "I said you -could pay more, but I didn't say what I had to offer wasn't worth more, -did I?" - -"Why is it worth more now than it was this forenoon?" Granthope asked -impatiently. - -"It's worth more, because I've seen Vixley, and I've found out things -that it's for your interest to know. I'm on the inside, now, and I'm -prepared to make a better bargain." - -"I see; you've sold me out, and now you want to turn over and sell -Vixley out for a raise? I might have guessed that!" He turned to his -desk in disgust. - -"I don't care what you think. I ain't discussing high moral principles. -I'm here to make a living in the quickest and most practical way. If -you don't care to hear what I've got to say, I'll leave." - -"How do I know you've got anything of value to me? Why should I trust -you?" - -"You can't expect me to tell you, and then leave it to you to make a -satisfactory price, can you?" - -"Oh, I don't care what you've learned. We'll call it all off." -Granthope rose, as if to end the interview. - -Masterson seeing his caution had gone too far became more eager. "Let's -talk this thing out, Frank, man to man. Suppose I tell you half of it, -and let you see whether it's as important as I say. Then we'll have a -basis to figure on." - -"All right, but make it brief. I'm getting sick of the business." He -sat down, tilted back in his chair and waited, gazing at the ceiling. - -Masterson spoke crisply, now. "Suppose I tell you that Payson has -confessed that he has a son?" He shifted his cigar in his mouth and -watched the bolt fall. - -As the words came out, Granthope's face, which had shown only a -contemptuous, bored expression, changed instantaneously. It was, for a -moment, as if a sponge had been passed over it, obliterating all signs -of intelligence, leaving it to blank, hopeless bewilderment. Then his -mind leaped to its inevitable conclusion, the whole thing came to him in -a sudden revelation; a dozen unnoticed details jumped together to form -the pattern, and there it was, a problem solved: horror and despair. He -was Clytie's half-brother! He sat enthralled by it for a moment--he -forgot the leering scoundrel in front of him--he saw only -Clytie--inaccessible for ever. - -Then, still without a word, he rose like one in a dream, sought for his -hat, went out the door, and ran down-stairs. As in a dream, too, -Masterson's astonished, entreating, indignant exclamations followed him, -echoing down the hall. Granthope paid no attention, he had no thought -but for Clytie--to see her immediately, at any cost. - - -He swung aboard an O'Farrell Street car, found a seat in the corner of -the open "dummy" portion, and strove with the tumult in his soul. The -torturing thought of Clytie for ever lost to him coiled and uncoiled -like a serpent. He did not doubt Masterson's revelation, nor could he -doubt its obvious interpretation in the light of the many revelations -that had been cast upon Mr. Payson's past. Yet it must be corroborated -before he could wholly abandon himself to renunciation. He tried to -keep from hoping. - -He was Clytie's half-brother! His mind wrestled with it. - -The car filled at the Orpheum Theater, taking on a load of merry -passengers, who crowded the seats inside and out till the aisles and -footboards were packed. The bell clanged as they drove through the -Tenderloin, rolled round the curve into Jones Street and took the steep -hill, climbing without slackening speed. It rounded two more corners, -wheels creaking; and as it passed, the broad area of the Mission and -South San Francisco was for a moment revealed in the gap of Hyde Street, -a valley of darkness, far below, gorgeously set out with lights, like -strings and patterns of jewels. At California Street a crowd of -passengers, mostly Jews, overdressed, prosperous, exuberant, transferred -for the Western Addition. The car went up and up, reached the summit -and coasted down the dip to Pacific Street. Another rise to Union -Street, where another line transferred more passengers towards the -Presidio. Then, with only one or two inside, and the conductor lazily -picking his teeth on the back platform, they climbed again up to the -reservoir. Here a long incline fell giddily to the water and the North -Beach. The car rolled to the crest, ducked fearfully, and boldly -descended the slope. - -He was Clytie's half-brother! The thought of it was darker than the -night about him. - -Ahead, the black stretch of water, the flash of the light on Alcatraz, -and a misty constellation in the direction of Sausalito. To the left, a -huge shoulder of Russian Hill swept back from the northern harbor in a -wave toward the south. It was sprinkled with artificial stars--the -gas-lamps, electric lights, and illuminated windows of the town. One -street, directly opposite, was a line of topaz brilliants, loosely -strung, scattering over the hill. Fort Point light, two miles away, -flared alternately a dash of pale yellow--and short pin-pricks of red. -Farther away, Point Bonita was flaming, regular as a clock, a periodic -spasm of diamond radiance. Electric cars, like lighted lanterns, were -painfully climbing the Fillmore Street hill. All about was a sparse -settlement of wooden houses, thickening as it rose to the palaces of -Pacific Avenue crowning the summit. A dark space of grass and trees lay -ahead--the Black Point Military Reservation--the bugles were calling -through the night. - -It was past eleven o'clock when Granthope ran up the steps into the -Paysons' front garden, walked rapidly up the path and stood for a moment -outside the door. There was a light in Clytie's workroom; he threw a -handful of gravel against the pane, and waited. - -The curtain was drawn aside, the window raised, and Clytie looked out -boldly. She saw him, waved her hand, and disappeared. A few moments -later she opened the front door quietly. She wore a soft, clinging, -blue silk peignoir; her arms were half bare, and her tawny hair was -braided for the night. She came out with a look of alarm. - -"Oh, Francis, what is it?" - -"Did I frighten you, dear?" - -"Oh, I knew it was you, immediately. But what has happened to bring you -here?" - -"Is your father at home?" - -"No--he may be back at any moment, though. But come in!" - -He removed his hand from hers resolutely, though her touch thrilled him -with delight. "Wait!" he commanded. "First, can you get the keys to -that trunk?" - -"Trunk?" she questioned, puzzled. - -"Yes, the trunk you told me about--with the wedding-clothes in it--I -must see it!" - -"Now?" she asked wonderingly. - -"Yes, immediately. Please do as I say, and don't ask why, yet. -Everything depends upon it. Hurry, before your father comes!" - -The unusual air of command brought her to her senses. She went into the -house. "Wait here in the hall; I'll get a light." - -She was gone but a moment, and returned with a candle in a brass -candlestick. Then, without a word, she led the way up the stairs. They -passed silently through an upper hall where an open door revealed a -glimpse of her bed-chamber, all in white, as exquisitely kept as a -hospital ward. Here she left him to get her father's keys. They came -to a flight of steps, leading upward. She waited for him to go first -and lift the trap-door at the top. When he had disappeared into the -gloom above, she followed him, handed up the candlestick and took his -hand to a place beside him. - -The garret stretched the full length of this wing of the house. At the -far end a dim light came through a gable window, in front of which the -bough of a tree waved. The candle cast wavering, widening shadows of -the rafters against the sloping roof, and picked out with its light the -rows of trunks, boxes and pieces of furniture on either side of the -floor. It was damp and cold; there was a musty odor of old books. - -She led the way to the end, where, under the window a large, black trunk -stood upon the floor. Granthope's heart leaped with hope. But, in -another moment it stood still as death. She had handed him the key, and -he had thrown open the lid. There, inside, was a smaller trunk, covered -with cow-hide, with a rounded top and a lip of pinked leather, studded -with brass nails. There were the letters, "F.G." - -He needed but one look to recognize it as Madam Grant's. But still, it -was a common pattern of the old-fashioned "hair trunk" and he must be -sure. The lock had been broken, and no key was needed to open it. He -threw open this lid, also. Clytie bent over him holding the candle, so -near that she touched his shoulder. Neither had spoken. - -There was the same collection of papers, letters and account-books, the -same little mahogany box. How well he recalled his first sight of it -all! How heavy that tray had seemed to him, as a child! Now he raised -it with ease. Below, the same revelation of yellowing satin and old -lace--even the same tissue paper, shredded to tatters, wrapped about the -packages. The boxes of silk stockings and handkerchiefs were there as -well. He thought of the package of bills that had lain in one -corner--he knew the place as well as if he still saw the money. Lastly, -he groped for the white vellum prayer-book. He found it, and drew it -out. Opening the cover, he looked once at the fly-leaf, then handed it -silently to Clytie. Written there was the name "Felicia Gerard." He -turned his face away from her. - -She looked at the book and then at him, still bewildered. - -"What does it mean, Francis? Tell me; I can't stand it a moment longer! -This is Madam Grant's trunk, of course--I see that. But how came it -here? Why should my father--" - -She set the candle upon a box and put her arms tenderly about his neck, -her face close to his, to soothe his agitation. Her smooth cheek -against his was rapture. He could feel her body, warm and soft, through -her thin peignoir, and the contact inflamed him. He unclasped her arms -with a sudden violent gesture and sprang up in an agony of despair. - -"Don't touch me!" he cried. "Never again!" - -She looked at him, terrified at his tone. His panic passed in a wave -from him to her, and was the more unbearable because she did not yet -understand the cause of it. - -"What is it? Tell me!" She faced him, and extended her hand. - -He retreated from her. - -"It's Mamsy's trunk," he said, trying to control his voice. "Oh, don't -you see?" - -"I'm too frightened to think!" she cried, clasping her hands. "I can't -think. Tell me quickly, or I shall faint!" - -"Doesn't your intuition tell you?" he asked bitterly. "Why should it -fail you now, when it should be stronger than ever before?" - -"It tells me nothing, except that you are killing me with suspense. Oh, -but I know you are suffering, too! Let me share it. Francis, you don't -doubt my love for you, whatever happens, do you?" - -He caught her hand again and dashed it away. - -"Oh, you should see!" he cried. "It's so plain, now! I am Madam -Grant's son--and my father--is your father! I am your half-brother! -It's all ended between us, now!" - -"How do you know?" She was trembling. "How does this prove it? It is -Felicia Grant's trunk, of course--but we knew already that my father had -an interest in her--he must have bought this trunk at the auction when -she died--but why does it prove you are his son? Why should you think -that there was ever such a relation between them? It's horrible!" - -"I found out to-night, an hour ago, that your father had a child by -her--he has confessed it to Vixley and Madam Spoll. They got it out of -him, somehow. That's how they have got a hold on him--and who else -should this child be but I, who lived with her? It accounts for his -tenderness for these things, for his scrap-book, his going down to the -Siskiyou Hotel--everything! Oh, it's certain! It is hopeless!" - -She stood gazing at him, bewildered. - -"If he had an illegitimate child it must be you, of course. But it is -strange I never heard of that!" - -"It was all so long ago--before you were born--that it happened. Madam -Grant had no friends--except, perhaps, your mother--and it could have -been kept a secret easily enough." - -She gave a low moan and sank down upon a box limply. Her eyes were -fixed on the candle flame; she seemed to be studying some possible way -of escape. She looked up at him once, and then down again, for his eyes -were desperate. He stood watching her, and for some time neither spoke. -He put his hand to his head, stroking his hair over his ear -mechanically, while his mind whirled. Below a door slammed. She rose, -shaking back her hair, her eyes half-closed, her hands on her breast. - -"I understand, now," she said slowly. "It must have been that which -drew me to you at first. But if you are my brother, surely I have the -more right to love you! Oh, Francis, I do love you! What does it -matter how, so long as you are dear to me?" She rose, and put out her -hand again, but, at the touch he shrank away from her. - -"Oh, no, I can't stand that! It's all over, that tenderness. I can't -trust myself with you. It's not a brother's love I feel for you. It's -so much more that you will always be a fearful temptation to me." - -"Can't you overcome that?" As she held the candle before her, her face -had never appeared more noble; for a moment she seemed as far away from -him as she had been at first, alone on spiritual heights to him -inaccessible. - -"Can you?" he asked. - -She dropped her eyes. "If we had found this out before, it would have -been easier." - -"Ah, if we only had! Then you would have come into my life as a sister. -How proud I would have been of you! How grateful for all you have done -for me! But it is too late, now, to accept you on such terms. I have -kissed you--not as a brother kisses his sister. I can never get that -desire out of my blood!" - -She shuddered and turned away from him. "Yes, you are right, I know. I -am a woman, now; you have awakened me. There is nothing for us to do -but part. It is hideous to be the playthings of fate." - -"Well," he said grimly, "if I have made you a woman, you have made me a -man! I can at least live cleanly and self-respectingly. Of course I -can't see you again--not, at least, for a long time--not till we get -over this--" - -She looked up with the veriest shadow of a smile. "Oh, I shall not get -over it! There is no chance of that! Right or wrong, I shall always -feel the same toward you, always long for you. Isn't that a fearful -confession? Yet, how can I help it?" - -"Then it is for me to protect you all the more. I can live so that you -need not be ashamed of me. But not near you." - -She sat down again. Her head drooped like a heavy flower, her hands -fell listlessly into her lap. A sudden draft distracted the candle and -sent her shadow, distorted, to and fro upon the roof. Then footsteps -were heard on the floor below, and a door slammed again. She looked up -to say: - -"Father has come home. Shall we tell him, now?" - -[Illustration: Her head drooped like a heavy flower] - -"Must we?" - -"I would rather wait. I can't stand anything more, yet. I want to -think it out. I am too puzzled and I am fighting against this too hard, -now. Let me get hold of myself first. Perhaps we can get down without -his hearing us, if we wait a little while. He has gone to his room." - -"That's the best way, if we can. There'll be a scene--and I am not -ready for that, either. I will tell him later--or you may." - -"No, it should be you. How can I talk to him?" - -"I can't tell how he'll take it. I'm sure, now, that he has been -looking for me--for Madam Grant's child--for some time, and Vixley was -undoubtedly leading him on, promising to find his son. But now, when he -knows it is I, after the way he has treated me, how will he feel?" - -"Oh, be sure he will be kind!" - -"It doesn't matter much. I shall not trouble him. I shall go away, of -course." - -"Oh, I can't bear it! I _can't_ give you up! Oh, I'm sure it isn't -right. I can't believe it, even yet!" - -"Let's go down!" he said sharply. "I can't stand it any longer. My -blood cries out for you! When I think that I have held you in my -arms--" - -"Yes, come! Don't speak like that or I shall forget everything else." - -He took the candle and lighted her down the steps, then followed her -quietly. Together they crept along the hall and down the stairway to -the lower hall. As they got there, the cuckoo-clock hiccoughed, five -minutes before the hour. - -She stood for a moment looking at him, her eyes burning. Her peignoir -fell in long, graceful lines, suggesting her gracile figure. One braid -had fallen over her shoulder across her breast to below her waist. Her -beauty smote his senses. - -"To-morrow is Saturday," he said. "I shall come up to see your father -in the afternoon. You had better be away, if you can." - -"I shall be away," she said dully. - -"I'll have it out with him--settle it beyond all doubt, and then--" - -"And then?" - -"I shall try to show you what you have made of me. I shall not see you -till we have conquered this thing!" - -"Oh, Francis, if I could only feel that it is wrong--but I _can't_. It -seems so right, so natural. I shall not change. I have given myself to -you, and I can not take myself back. If there is fighting against it to -be done, you must do it for both of us. You must decide." - -"I shall take care of you, Clytie. That will be my brother's duty." - -"Yes," she said, drooping, "you must help me, I can't help you any more. -I have done what I can, but you have passed me now, and you are the -master." - -"I must begin now, then, and go. Good-by!" - -She gave him her hands, and he took them for a moment, then flung -himself away before their delicacy could work on him. With a sudden -smile, he turned to the door and was gone. - -She stood, limp and weak, watching him till the door closed. Then the -cuckoo-clock broke the silence with its interminable midnight clatter, -persistent, maddening. - - - - - *CHAPTER XXI* - - *THE SUNRISE* - - -Clytie met her father, next morning, showing no trace of what she had -suffered during the night. He himself had enough to think about without -noticing her demeanor. - -On Saturday the papers had, after considerable investigation of the -matter, called public attention to the doings of spiritualistic mediums -in San Francisco, and were full of exposures. Vixley's record was -given, and it was sensational enough to make it advisable for the -Professor to leave town till the scandal blew over. Flora Flint was -reported to have fled at the same time, and, it was presumed, in the -same direction. Other mediums not concerned in this affair were -interviewed, and pseudo-confessions extorted from their dupes. The -Spiritualistic Society protested in vain that none of the mediums -exposed had ever been in good standing with that body of true -believers--the wave of gossip drowned its voice. San Francisco was the -largest spiritualistic community in the United States, probably in the -world, but, for a while at least, it would be less easy for clairvoyants -and psychometrists to earn a living. This outburst was one of the -periodic upheavals of reform, but the talk would soon die down and -business would be resumed in perfect safety by the charlatans. There -would be a new crop of dupes to cajole. - -Clytie and her father both avoided the subject. Breakfast passed -silently, and at nine o'clock Mr. Payson left the house. Clytie went -about her work automatically; answered a few letters, listlessly -rearranged her jewelry in its casket, sorted the leaves of a book she -had taken apart to rebind, cut the pages of a magazine, set her tools in -order on the bench. From time to time she went to the front window to -look out, returning to stand for minutes at a time in the center of the -room, as if she had forgotten what she had intended to do. At ten -o'clock she lay down upon the couch in the library and fell into a deep -sleep of exhaustion, the first rest she had obtained since midnight. - -She was awakened by the door-bell, and had barely time to hurry into her -chamber before the door was answered. There, word was brought to her -that Mr. Cayley wished to see her. She bathed her eyes, smoothed her -hair, put on her Chinese _sa'am_, and a jade necklace over her -house-frock and went down to him. Her face was resolutely set, her eyes -had a cold luster. - -"How d'you do, Blan?" she said, holding out her hand to him. "I'm so -glad to see you!" - -It was a warmer greeting than he had received for some time, but he did -not appear surprised. He drew off his gloves, looking admiringly at -her. - -"I didn't feel like work, to-day, so I thought I would run out and see -you." - -"You certainly are devoted! I shall have to reward you by being very -nice." - -He smiled. "I'm glad you're beginning to appreciate me." - -"Meaning that in the dictionary sense of the word, or the common -interpretation?" she said, seating herself. - -"Both. They're the same, in my case. If I had suspected that you were -going to be so amiable--" - -"I'm always ready to be that--if you'll let me." - -This was enough unlike her ordinary manner toward him to make him give -her a look-over for an explanation. "All right, I'll take you up," he -said. "Just how amiable are you prepared to be?" He sat down opposite -her. - -"That's for you to find out!" - -"Well. I'll try to discover the line of least resistance." - -"Oh, you needn't be so elaborate, Blanchard. You never really need more -than half the subtlety you waste on me. I'm quite a simple person!" - -"Still waters--" he began. - -She lifted her shoulders and her brows. - -"Run cold!" he finished, and caught a smile. - -"I wonder if I _am_ cold!" she said. - -"Granthope didn't succeed in firing you?" - -She showed no evidence of pain except that the two lines appeared in her -forehead suddenly. Then she shook her head as if to cast off some -annoyance. - -"Oh, you're quite off the track, there. Don't make it harder for -yourself than necessary. What did you come to-day for? Tell me!" - -He laughed comfortably and said, "Reconnaissance." - -"I thought there was a reason. Well, reconnoiter away! Your -precautions are infinite!" Her chin went up. - -"That's one of the qualities of genius, I believe. I think in the end I -shall justify my system." - -"You haven't produced any psychological condition yet, then?" She -looked at him with her eyebrows raised. No smile. - -"Not quite." - -"Hasn't it ever occurred to you that"--her eyes sought his with a quick -glance, and drifted away--"that such a condition--might come without -your having produced it yourself? Accidentally, so to speak?" - -"I confess I haven't been modest enough to anticipate that." - -"I thought you were a diagnostician, as well as a physician!" She threw -another quick look at him, withdrawing her eyes immediately. - -"Prognosis is my specialty." - -"Oh, I shall take care of myself." - -"There's no defense like a vigorous attack." - -"I'm not going after you," she protested. - -"But _is_ there a psychological condition, Cly?" - -"That's not fair. You ought to be able to tell, yourself--it's your own -theory. The trouble is that you're too theoretical. You've left me -quite out of the question and tried to do it all yourself." - -She put her head on one side with unaccustomed coquetry. There was a -new glitter in her eyes which seemed to baffle him. For the first time -she had the upper hand of him at his own game. He was like a man who -had started to lift a heavy weight and had suddenly found it -unexpectedly light. The reaction threw him over. - -"Are you willing to help?" he asked. - -"Ah, if you had only begun that way!" - -"Clytie--do you mean--" - -"Oh, I don't mean anything." She got up and took a turn about the room -restlessly as she spoke. "It's my turn to be theoretical, that's all." - -He leaned toward her very seriously. "Clytie, I'm terribly in earnest." - -"I'd like more proof of it." - -"Would you? What proof can I give?" - -"There you are on the other side, now, making me do more than my share. -I don't intend to teach you, you know!" She walked away, her hands -behind her back. - -"Could you, if you wanted to?" - -"Oh, I think I might show you a few things. I have my ideas--most women -have, you know. Perhaps I'm not quite so cold as you think." She shut -her eyes a moment and trembled. "But there's plenty of time." - -He let that go, gazing with curiosity at the spots of red on her cheeks. -It was not a blush; the color was sustained. She never looked at him -steadily, giving him only a flashing glance, now and again. Her nostrils -were expanded, her head was held majestically erect. There was, indeed, -plenty of time for him, and he took it coolly. He betrayed still a -puzzled interest--that of a hunter whose quarry was fluttering so that -he could not get in his shot. - -"You're looking very beautiful, to-day, Cly." - -"To-day?" She emphasized the word. - -He laughed. "That's the time I put the mucilage brush in the -ink-bottle! Queer how hard it is to give a girl a compliment that -she'll accept." - -"I beg pardon--it was ungracious of me. Try me again." - -"No, I was clumsy. But compliments aren't my business. I'm not a -palmist, you see." - -Again she drew back her head with a shake. "I think I told you that Mr. -Granthope is my friend?" Her voice trembled a little. - -She walked to the fireplace and stood there, leaning her back against -the mantel, tapping her heel against the fender. - -"I told you he wouldn't last long," Cayley went on. "He's come down like -the stick of a rocket. I suspected he'd be leaving town before the -month was out." - -"Leaving town--what d'you mean?" She was keen, now. - -"I had to go up into the Geary Building this morning, and I saw his -boxes outside the door as I passed. I took it that he's leaving. You -ought to know, I should think--if he's your friend!" - -She walked up to the window and back before answering. Then she came up -to him with: - -"You needn't be afraid, Blanchard; I'm not going to elope with him." - -"That's good. It gives you a chance to elope with me!" - -"Oh, it's all planned, then? How exciting!" - -"I was invited up to the tavern on Tamalpais and bring a girl for over -Sunday. Mrs. Page is the chaperon--she calls it a 'sunrise party.' -Will you come?" - -She lifted her eyebrows. "Mrs. Page? Chaperon?" - -He smiled. "Oh, you needn't worry; she's all right. Not exactly your -class, but you needn't mind that--you'll make it proper by going -yourself!" - -"You really want me to go--with Mrs. Page?" - -"Why not?" - -"It sounds a bit gay--you know I'm not exactly accustomed to that sort -of thing--" - -"You mustn't believe the stories you hear of her." - -"I'll go--and find out!" she exclaimed suddenly. "Yes, I'll go; what -time does the boat go?" Her mood had grown almost eager. - -"We can just catch the one forty-five. I'll ring them up and let them -know we're coming." - -"No--I want to see her face when she first sees me. Mrs. Page!" she -laughed to herself grimly. - -"Cly, what's the matter with you to-day?" he demanded, turning upon her -suspiciously. - -She opened her eyes very wide. "Why?" - -"Oh, you're different." - -"So are you!" Another quick glance at him. - -"How?" - -"Nicer." How she drew the word out! - -"Really?" - -"Why, you're actually letting me go with Mrs. Page. You never would, -before." She laughed in his face, but the ring sounded metallic. - -"Oh, well--I didn't think you wanted to. I didn't think you and she -would--get on." - -"Oh, you'll see how we'll get on! Blanchard, you never suspected I had -any spirit, I suppose?" - -"Where did you get it?" - -"Guess!" - -He dared not; but appeared to take the credit to himself. He began -actually to take fire. Clytie was a revelation in this tantalizing -mood. Where had her classic reserves gone? What had inspired her? Now -she was like other girls--most alluringly like those he had "educated." -Perhaps, after all, women were all alike, as he had long maintained, in -theory. All this was evident in his pursuit of her--but even now it was -a cautious chase. He made sure of every foot of the way. - -"I wish we weren't old friends," he said. "It is a handicap, isn't it? -If I didn't know you so well--" - -"Oh, I'll show you things you never knew!" she interrupted, playing up -harder and harder. "Don't be afraid of my resources. I have a trick or -two up my sleeve. We'll forget we were friends and get acquainted all -over. Come, be a Martian--burst a new brain cell, as I have!" She gave -another dry laugh. - -"It will be dangerous," he warned. - -"Pooh!" She snapped her fingers at him. - -He seized her hand and tried to hold it. - -"Not yet!" she said, and shook her finger fantastically. - -So, like a wounded bird, she lured him away from her nest. The -luncheon-bell rescued her. She could not have lasted much longer. -During the luncheon, she kept him skilfully at arm's length, and before -they had finished, Mr. Payson came in and surprised them--and himself. - -When Clytie went up-stairs to prepare for the trip he put his hand -cordially on Cayley's shoulder. - -"Well, I'm glad to see you and Clytie on such good terms. It looks like -old times." - -"I think perhaps the modern method is going to succeed," Cayley said -with a satisfied smile. "Cly's been nicer than she has been for weeks. -I hear Granthope's disposed of." - -"Oh, I guess I finished him. I gave him a piece of my mind, and her, -too. Cly's got too much sense not to see through him. I hope you'll -win her, Blanchard. I'm getting to be an old man, and I want to see her -happily settled. This exposure has hit me pretty hard, and if Clytie -had taken up with that palmist on top of that, I don't know what I'd do. -Go in and get her, Blanchard--I'm glad she's consented to go off on this -trip. It'll do her good. It ought to give you a good chance." - -"You can trust me for that! I think the time has about come to force -the game. I may have something to say to you by the time we come back." - -"I hope so, indeed!" said the old man. - -Clytie came down with her bag and kissed her father affectionately. -"Are you going to be at home this afternoon?" she asked him. - -"Why, yes, I thought of it. Is there anything I can do for you?" - -She hesitated. "N-no, only if any one should call--never mind--only -there's no knowing when we may be back," she added, looking at Cayley. -"Blanchard has threatened to elope with me, you know! I'm terribly -afraid he won't keep his promise, though." She took his arm and ran him -down the steps madly, tossing her father a kiss from the path. - -Mr. Payson watched them complacently, as Clytie hurried her escort -through the gate. They had plenty of time to catch the boat, and her -haste was unusual. She had hinted that the clock was slow, but his watch -assured him that that was not so. He shook his head. - -They had not been gone fifteen minutes when word was brought up-stairs -to Mr. Payson that a gentleman was waiting to see him. The visitor -would not give his name. The old man went down. - -At sight of the caller, his face set hard and grim. His shaggy brows -drew over his spectacles. He stopped suddenly, but, before he could -speak, Granthope had come forward. - -"I must beg your pardon, Mr. Payson, for not sending up my name, for -coming here at all, in fact; but it is absolutely necessary for me to -see you this afternoon. My business is important enough to be its own -apology." - -"Sit down, sir!" said the old man, taking a chair himself, and speaking -with deliberation. "I will listen to what you have to say, but let it -be brief. After our last interview it must be important, indeed, to -bring you to my house after my expressed request that you should stay -away." - -Granthope remained standing. "It is an extraordinary thing that has -brought me; but if it were not as important to you as it is to me, you -may be sure I wouldn't have consented to come." - -"Let me say right here, young man, that I suspect your business is -nothing more or less than blackmail, in some form. It is what I -expected. But I tell you in advance that it will be no use, and, at the -first hint of extortion, I shall notify the police!" - -Granthope smiled. "I could hardly call it blackmail," he said. "I've -never included that in my list of tricks." - -"What the devil is it, then? Out with it! If it's bad news, let me -have it point-blank, without beating about the bush. I have seen enough -of your sort to know that you wouldn't come here except for money, -whatever you say. But I'm a little wiser than I was three months ago, I -can tell you! I've had my lesson, and you'll get nothing out of me." -He grew more and more excited over his grievance. - -"You remember that I warned you against that gang?" Granthope -interposed. - -"Yes, and they warned me against you, too! Birds of a feather! Only I -suspect you of being a little shrewder." - -"Mr. Payson," Granthope said earnestly, "I can't bear these -insinuations! Give me a chance, at least, before you condemn me. I'll -tell you in four words what I came for, before you say anything more -that you will have to regret. I have good reason to believe that I am -your son!" - -The old man rose from his chair and shook his finger in Granthope's -face. "That's all I want to hear!" he thundered. "Leave my house -immediately, sir! My son, are you? I thought so! Good God, wasn't it -enough for Vixley and the Spoll woman to try and work that game on me, -that you have to come and begin where they left off? After I had found -them out, too! Do you take me for a damned fool? Why, you people don't -even know when you're shown up! You get out of my house before I kick -you out!" He strode to the door, lowering, and held it suggestively -open. - -Granthope stared at him in astonishment, with no thought of moving. -This was the last thing he had expected. At first his surprise was too -great for his hopes to rise. He thought of nothing but the angry man in -front of him, wondering why he should deny the truth so vindictively. - -"Do you mean to say that I am _not_ your son?" he said, with a queer -perplexed hesitation. - -"I ask you to leave my house, sir! Do you think I'll permit myself to -discuss such a subject with you?" Mr. Payson's scorn was towering. - -Granthope still stared. What did it mean? He spoke again, earnestly, -trying his best to keep calm. "Do you deny that you have a son, sir? I -beg you to answer me." - -"What the devil should I deny it for? What business is it of yours?" -the old man roared. "Why should you come here asking me such outrageous -questions?" - -"Mr. Payson," Granthope tried again, "I told you that I had reason to -believe that I am your son. You must admit that that gives me an -interest in the matter. I have never known who my parents were. You -needn't be afraid of my forcing myself upon you against your will, or -attempting to get money from you--that is not my motive. But I have a -right, for my own sake, to know the truth, and I demand that you -answer!" - -The old man quailed before his look and his seriousness, and began to be -impressed with his sincerity. "Very well, then, I will answer you. No, -sir, you are not my son, because I never had one, to my knowledge, at -least. Does that satisfy you? Vixley and the Spoll woman tried that -game on me and failed. Now, I'll ask you to leave me alone in peace. I -have had trouble enough!" His first burst of anger having burned itself -out, he weakened under the strain. - -Granthope was for a moment at a loss for words. He was not prepared for -this denial--he must begin all over again. He stood with his hands -folded for a while, and then said: - -"Very well, Mr. Payson. I will tell you now what I know, and you may -judge of yourself whether or not I was justified in coming." - -The old man's countenance was irresolute; his mouth had relaxed. He -faced Granthope silently. - -"Did you ever know Felicia Grant?" said Granthope next. - -Mr. Payson exploded again. "Oh, you've got hold of that, have you? I -thought as much. So you've been in league with that gang all along! I -see; all this pretended enmity was only a part of the game! Very, -clever, sir, very clever!" He began to walk up and down, bobbing his -head. - -"I lived with Madam Grant when I was a child," Granthope persisted -calmly. - -"What's that?" Mr. Payson went up to him, now, and took him by the arm. -"For God's sake, man, don't lie to me!" - -"I lived with her for three years. I was with her when she died--" - -"You!" the old man exclaimed. He stared into Granthope's face as if he -could surprise the truth from him. "If I could be sure of that!" he -cried in distress. "For God's sake, don't play with me!" he implored. -"I have no faith in any one any more. How can I believe you?" - -Granthope dropped his voice to a soothing pitch and took the old man's -hand in his with a firm clasp of assurance. "My dear Mr. Payson," he -said, "I can give you plenty of proof of it, if you will only listen to -me. I came to her, where from I never knew, as a child of five. She -took me in, and I lived with her till she died. She was like a mother -to me--I would be glad to hear that she was really my mother, for I -loved her. I have come to you because I thought that she must have been -that, and you my father. But I would be the happiest man alive if you -could assure me that there is no relationship between you and me. What -I know of you, I found out through Masterson--and he may have lied, but -it seemed probable that it was true. I beg you to tell me the truth, -for if you are my father it means more to me than anything else in the -world." - -"I think I can believe you now," said Mr. Payson, still with his eyes -fastened on Granthope. "You seem to be honest, though I have about lost -my faith in human nature. So I will be honest with you. But I can only -repeat what I told you before. You are not my son. I never had a son." - -A wild hope sprang up in Granthope's heart; though as yet it seemed -impossible. "But you knew Felicia Grant?" - -"Yes, indeed; I knew her well." - -"Your picture was in her room--an old newspaper cut--" - -The old man grasped his hand again with both his own. "Ah, I know you -are the boy, now!" he exclaimed. "I have looked everywhere for you! -Thank God, I have found you before it was too late! Do you know how I -have longed for you for twenty years?--for the boy who stood by Felicia -through that long, terrible time, when I could do nothing--nothing? -Granthope, I don't care _what_ you have been--charlatan or fakir or -criminal, there's a debt I owe you, and I shall pay it! Oh, you don't -know! You don't know!" He stopped and held out his hands pathetically. -"Why, it was to find you that I first went to Madam Spoll! I don't know -how I can apologize or make up for the way I've treated you--you, of all -men in the world!" - -"But I can't understand yet," said Granthope, touched at the old man's -atonement. "I heard--from Vixley, it came--that you had -acknowledged--you must forgive me--to an illegitimate son. Can you -blame me for thinking that it must be I?" - -The old man dropped his head on his hand. "I see, now," he said -drearily. "Oh, it must all come out, I suppose. I owe it to you to -tell you, at least." - -"You need tell me nothing more than you have told," Granthope said -eagerly. "I didn't come here to pry into your secrets, Mr. Payson, or -to make use of them." - -"Oh, I know, now! But it is hard to speak. And I don't know even -whether I have the right to tell or not. It's not my secret alone. But -tell me first what else you know." He took a chair again and motioned -for Granthope to sit down. - -"I know that Madam Grant had a wedding trousseau that she kept in a -trunk, and that the same trunk with the same contents, is now up-stairs -in your garret." - -"How can you know that?" - -"I saw it last night. Your daughter showed it to me." - -"Clytie--she showed it to you? You were here? How could that be?" - -"It means, Mr. Payson, that I love your daughter--that we love each -other. There is no time to explain how that came about, now, but I hope -to prove to you that I am worthy of her. We have met often since you -forbade me to come here. We were tacitly engaged, when I got this -information--that you had a child--and that Felicia Grant was the -mother. There was only one solution of the mystery--that I was that -child, and that Clytie and I were half-brother and sister. We had to be -sure before we broke off our affair, and I came up here to identify the -trunk she had seen. I had to tell her what I thought was the truth, and -last night we parted--for ever. You may imagine now how I long to -believe what you say, yet how impossible it seems!" - -"Clytie knows--that I had a child, by Felicia?" - -"I had to tell her--I could not let things go on--" - -"Ah, now I see how Madam Spoll went astray--I confessed to a child--I -wanted to find the boy--she thought the two were the same--she jumped to -the conclusion that I had had a son." - -"And you had no son?" Granthope said, still mystified. - -"No, I had a daughter. Do you see, now? I hoped to hide it from Clytie -for ever. I thought I had hidden it successfully, and it was better for -her, so. But now, if she knows so much, she must, of course, be told -all. It is right that she should know. Poor child! But you knew -Felicia--you know that she was no common woman--that ours could have -been no common affair!" - -"I know that well. And you needn't fear for Clytie, Mr. Payson. I -don't think it will be even a shock for her. It isn't as if she had -known Mrs. Payson well." - -The old man leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Ah, they -were two wonderful women, Granthope! I could scarcely know which was the -more so--which was the more magnanimous and true!" He was quiet a -while, then he added: "Do you remember Felicia well?" - -"No, not well. I was young then, and the memory has faded. But she -seemed to be very beautiful to me, though her face would often grow -suddenly strange. She was kind to me. She seemed to be extraordinarily -well educated, too--different from any one else I have ever known." - -Mr. Payson rose and saying, "Wait a moment, please!" left the room. He -returned after a few minutes with a small photograph, faded with age, -but still clear enough to portray the features of a beautiful woman, -apparently of some twenty years or so. The face was frank and open, the -eyes wide apart under level brows, looking directly out of the picture. -The mouth was large, but well-formed. The face had a look of candor and -serene earnestness that was engaging. - -"That was taken in 1869, when I first knew her. You can see, perhaps, -how I must have felt towards her. There is enough of Clytie in that -face for that, I suppose. But I doubt if you are capable of the passion -I had for that woman!" - -As Granthope held the portrait in his hand, watching the face that grew -every moment more familiar, the old man went on: - -"I can tell you only the outline of the story now. Felicia Gerard, when -I first knew her, was working with Mrs. Victoria Woodhull--a wonderful -woman--have you ever heard of her?" - -Granthope told him of the newspaper clipping Clytie had found, and how -they had, in the library, looked up the history of Mrs. Woodhull, who -had been a prominent figure in the East thirty years ago. It was more -unusual, then, for women to compete with men in business affairs, but -she, with her sister, had carried on a successful banking firm on Wall -Street. What had interested Clytie most, however, were the stories of -Mrs. Woodhull's early experience as a medium, and the fact that she had -been calumniated, persecuted and ostracized on account of the false -interpretation of her views upon social questions. - -"You may imagine the effect that such a person would have upon such a -spirited girl as Felicia," said Mr. Payson. "She was carried away with -her enthusiasm and energy, and the conflict inspired her. I followed -them from city to city, urging Felicia to marry me, but, having adopted -the radical social theories of that cult, she was firm in her refusal -not to bind herself or me to an indissoluble union. Well, I could get -her in no other way than by accepting her as a partner who should be -free to leave me the moment she ceased to love me; you may be sure that -her action was inspired only by the highest ideality. We settled -finally in New Orleans where, for some time, we were absolutely happy. -But New Orleans was, and is, I believe, a more conservative sort of -community than most American cities. People shunned us, and talked. At -last, isolated and away from radical centers, she consented to a -marriage ceremony, and went to work to prepare her trousseau. We were -to be married in San Francisco." - -The old man's face had grown wistful and tender as he spoke. He pulled -off his spectacles to wipe them, and looked up at Granthope with a sort -of pride in the story, in the beauty and pathos of it evoked by his -memories. Then he rose, and walked up and down the floor, his hands -behind his back, and his mellow, unctuous voice ran on. To Granthope, -who had known the woman, and loved her, the story thrilled with romance. - -"It was curious that she insisted upon a formal wedding. It was a -reaction, I suppose; she had returned to the normal instincts of -womanhood. I was only too willing. Well, it was in New Orleans that -the crisis came. We were living in an old Creole house on Royal -Street--it had been Paul Morphy's, the chess-player--Felicia saw his -spirit in the end room, where he died, one night. There was an old -gallery around the courtyard and garden, with magnolia trees, where we -used to sit in the evenings. Heavens! what nights we have spent there! - -"She had told me that her grandmother had been insane. It was Felicia's -horror, her dread. The spirits had told her that she would go mad, too. -That was, I suppose, the real reason why she had refused so long to -marry me. But she had almost forgotten about it by this time. We were -happy enough to forget everything! - -"Are you interested, Granthope, or does this bore you?" he added -suddenly, turning. "I'm an old man, after all, and I have an old man's -ways. The past is very real to me." - -"Go on, please!" said Granthope huskily. - -"It happened just before Mardi Gras. We had decided to stay over, and -see the fun. That Monday, when I came home, Felicia was gone. She had -left a note, saying that she would never see me again--I'll show you -that--and a lot of other things; they will help you to understand -Clytie. It seems that day she had gone suddenly out of her head and had -wandered across the street to another house, where they kept a leper -girl shut up in a room on the gallery. They carried her home, raving -rather wildly, and she came to her senses in an hour or so, but she was -terrified by the attack. She saw that she would probably be subject to -such attacks in the future; that they might become worse; that it was -not fair to me to marry. I don't need to tell you, I hope, that it would -have made no difference to me--I would have been glad to give my life to -attending to her through thick and thin. But she didn't wait to put it -to me. She left, with all her clothes, even the trousseau. She left no -address, nothing by which I could trace her. That was her way, the only -fair way, she thought. It must have taken some courage. It was, I -think, the bravest thing I ever saw done. - -"Let me see that photograph a minute, Granthope. What a lot of hair she -had! I've seen it to her feet. Cly has fine hair, but not like her -mother's. The same eyes, you see--full of dreams, but they wake up, -sometimes, I tell you! You may find out, sometime. Level brows and a -fullish lower lip. Do you know what that means? I do. - -"I didn't see her again for over a year. I hunted everywhere she had -ever been; Boston, Toledo, New York, everywhere! Finally I gave it up -in despair, and went abroad, trying to forget part of it. There I met -my wife. I married her in sheer despair; but I found out how fine she -was when I told her the story. I didn't think that there were two such -women in the world! I have a beautiful painting of her, done while we -were in Florence, but I never dared to put it up, on account of Clytie. -It didn't seem right. But you'll see it in the dining-room to-morrow, I -think. - -"Where was I? Oh, yes. We came to San Francisco for business reasons. -Before I had been here a week I happened upon Felicia down-town--she had -followed Mrs. Woodhull's example and had gone into business -herself--real estate. She did well at it, too. But at sight of me she -flew off the handle. Every time I saw her it affected her in the same -way. Good God! Can you imagine what it must be to know that the only -way you can help a woman you love and pity is to stay away from her? I -couldn't do anything, but my wife went to see her and seemed to be able -to pacify her. She found out that Felicia had a child--then a few -months old. The first I knew of it, the baby was here in the house, and -my wife told me that we would adopt her. No one ever knew that Clytie -wasn't our own child. No one knows but you and I, to this day, I think. - -"It was a fearful injustice to her, I suppose. Do you think she can -forgive me?" The old man was pathetically humble and looked to the -young man as to a guardian. - -"Mr. Payson," said Granthope, "have you lived all this while with her -and not known that? I have known her only two months, and I am sure of -it!" - -"So you think you love her, do you?" Mr. Payson looked at him -curiously. - -"I do, sir. And I think that she loves me." - -"Felicia's adopted boy!" the old man said to himself, "and Clytie! And -to think that I had wanted her to marry Cayley!" - -He broke off to stand, staring at Granthope, without a word. Then he -exclaimed: "By Jove! I had forgotten. Cayley was here to-day--Cly's -gone off with him, up to Mount Tamalpais, to join a party there. Now I -recall it--there seemed to be something between them. You are sure she -cares for you?" he demanded. - -"Last night she did--and we parted, thinking never to be able to see one -another again." - -"And I did my best to make that match--I encouraged Blanchard all I -could. I threw her at his head! I found them here at luncheon. He's -been trying for years to get her to marry him. You don't think it's -possible that she would do anything rash, do you?" - -Granthope's heart sickened. "In what way? How?" - -"She said--what was it--the last thing. She said that he had threatened -to elope with her, and perhaps they mightn't come back for some time. I -thought it was a joke, but now I think of it--" - -Granthope sprang up. "What time did they go?" he asked. - -"Just before you came--they took the one forty-five." - -"We can't reach her by telephone--they're not there yet. What time does -the next train go?" - -Mr. Payson turned to an _Argonaut_ and looked at the time-table on the -last page. "Saturdays--four thirty-five," he said. - -"I must go after her!" Granthope cried, almost desperate. "Don't you -see--don't you know women well enough to understand what a state of mind -she must be in, now? After our scene last night, the despair of it -would drive her to almost anything reckless, anything to make her -forget! It seemed wicked, monstrous, for us to meet again--it seemed -irrevocable, final. If Cayley has been pursuing her, as you say, she -may accept him in sheer desperation!" - -"Go up there," said the old man. "Go up, and tell her everything. It -is better for you to tell her. Cayley will resent your appearance, but -don't mind that--get rid of him at any cost. You will have to manage -him. If Clytie is in love with you, I'll stand by her in whatever she -says. Don't think I'm a doting fool, Granthope, that I veer with the -wind, this way. I wanted her to marry Cayley, because I thought she'd -never know this, and he was a man of honor and intelligence. But I -didn't know that Felicia's boy was alive." - - -Granthope left in a tumult of doubt. He knew little of Cayley, save -that he was subtle and indefatigable with women--and that he was -unscrupulous enough to have betrayed his friend to Vixley. But how far -Clytie's revulsion of feeling would have carried her by this time, he -dared not think. She was in a parlous state, and ripe for any extreme -impulse. - -The trip to Sausalito was almost intolerable. On the train to Mill -Valley, his anxiety smoldered till his spirit was ashes. His mind -fought all the way up the mountain track, faring to and fro, sinuously, -as the line wound, in tortuous loops, gaining altitude in tempered -grades. As they rose, the bay unfolded, shimmering below, curving about -the peninsula of San Francisco, where, amidst the pearl-gray, the -windows of the city caught, here and there, the level rays from the -vivid west. The air was cool and salt. As they rounded a spur, the -Pacific burst upon them, miles and miles of twinkling sparks on the -dullness of the sea floor. A bank of fog hovered upon the horizon. -Just above it the sun poised, then sank, bloody red, tingeing the cloud -with color and sending streamers to the zenith. Still his mind urged -the train to its climb. It was as if he put his shoulder to the car to -impel it upward in his haste, so intense was his expectancy. So, at -last, the train rolled up to the station by the Tavern. - -There was a crowd waiting upon the platform, and his eyes sought here -and there for Clytie. There she was, incongruous with the -party--Cayley, easy, jocose, elegant--Mrs. Page, full-blown, sumptuous -and glossy, abandoned to frivolity, her black hair blowing in the -wind--and Gay P. Summer, jaunty, pink-and-white, immaculate in outing -attire. There was another lady whom Granthope did not know. He walked -rapidly up to them, calm, now, and confident, equal to the situation, -whatever it might be. - -Mrs. Page pounced upon him with a little scream of delight, and towed -him up to the group. Clytie's narrow eyes widened in surprise, and she -turned paler as she looked at him in vain for an answer to her signal of -distress. - -"Why, Mr. Granthope!" Mrs. Page shouted. "Did you _ever_ in your life! -What fun! Aren't you a duck to come--you're _just_ the man we want! If -I had _imagined_ that you could be induced to come up here, I would have -let you know! But then, probably, you wouldn't have come! We needed -another man so badly! I'm _so_ glad! I think you know all of us here, -except Miss Cavendish, don't you? Miss Cavendish, let me present Mr. -Granthope. You know I've told you about him." - -Miss Cavendish smiled, looked him over with undisguised amusement, and -with a gesture passed him over to Clytie. Clytie gave him a cold hand, -looked him steadfastly in the eyes, then dropped hers and waited for her -cue. - -"It's very good of you to take me in, Mrs. Page. I hope you don't mind -my inviting myself. I only just ran up for the night, and I don't want -to interfere with your plans at all." - -"Oh, don't say a word! We were _dying_ for another man. We're all -delighted. Now we're six, you see--just right. You can flirt with the -chaperon." - -"Come and have a drink, first thing," said Gay P. Summer, taking upon -himself seriously the conventional obligations of host. "You must be -cold, Granthope, without an overcoat. We'll be back in a minute, -Violet. Come on, Cayley!" - -He led the way into the bar. Granthope followed with Cayley, watching -for a word in private. "I want to speak to you alone," he tossed over -his shoulder. Cayley nodded. - -After the formalities were over, Granthope remarked: "Well, I think I'll -go in and get a room, Summer. You go out and get the ladies while -Cayley and I go up-stairs a minute." - -Gay P., suspecting nothing, left the two men alone. Cayley took a seat -on a small table and waited. Granthope lost no time in preliminaries. - -"Mr. Cayley," he said, pulling out his watch, "what time does the next -train go down the mountain?" - -"There's one soon after nine, I believe--why?" Cayley answered. - -Granthope looked at him without visible emotion and said nonchalantly, -"I think you'd better take it." - -A hot flush burned in Cayley's cheeks, and he drew back as if ready -either to give or to receive a blow. "Did you come up here to tell me -that?" he said harshly. - -"I did--that amongst other things." - -"Are you trying to pick a quarrel with me? If you are, I think I can -accommodate you. Come outside." - -"No, I came up here to avoid one. If I had met you anywhere else, I -suppose you'd be knocked down, by this time." Granthope's tone was -unimpassioned, matter-of-fact. - -"This is getting interesting," said Cayley, now as suave as his -opponent. "May I ask you to explain?" - -"I had a talk with Doctor Masterson this morning. You may not be -acquainted with him--he's a friend of Professor Vixley's, whom I -believe, you _do_ know." - -Cayley's color went back, and his attitude relaxed from defiance to -something less assertive. - -"He told me a few things about you, Mr. Cayley," Granthope went on -firmly. "I don't intend to repeat them. But what I do intend is that -you shall make whatever excuses you see fit to Mrs. Page and the others, -and leave here on the next train. Do you understand perfectly, or shall -I go into details?" - -"Oh, I won't trouble you, Granthope," Cayley drawled. "I don't think -the crowd would be very amusing with you here, anyway. I'm much obliged -to you for giving me the opportunity to leave, I'm sure." - -He smiled, Granthope smiled, and the two separated. Cayley walked up to -speak to the clerk in the office, and then sauntered toward the ladies -on the porch. Granthope was given a room, and went up-stairs. - -When he returned the party was talking on the veranda, and there was no -chance to speak to Clytie alone. What he could do to reassure her by -his glance, he did, but she was evidently so much at a loss to account -for his appearance that she had placed some alarming interpretation upon -it. She did not speak, but her silence was unnoticed in Mrs. Page's -volubility. As they stood there, a bell-boy came out and notified -Cayley that there was a telephone call for him. Cayley apologized and -left to go inside. Granthope watched him with satisfaction. - -Clytie moved off down the veranda a little way, and Granthope, seeing -his opportunity, followed her. - -He had time but to say, "It's all right, Clytie--it's all right!" - -She looked up at him in wonder, and at his words life and hope came back -to her and shone in her eyes. She did not understand yet, but the -message was an elixir of joy to her. On the instant Gay and Miss -Cavendish joined them, chattering. - -"Oh, Mr. Granthope," she said, "Mr. Summer and I have been wrangling all -this afternoon over a discussion, and we want your decision. You ought -to know, if anybody does. Which knows most about women--the man who -knows all about some woman, or the man who knows some about all women?" - -Granthope laughed. "I think they'd be equally foolish. No man _knows_ -anything about any woman." - -"Of course that's the proper answer," said Miss Cavendish. "We're all -mysteries, aren't we?" - -"Even to ourselves," Clytie offered. - -"Oh, yes, women understand other women, but they never understand -themselves." - -Gay P. Summer put in, "I don't think any man ever understands women who -hasn't had sisters. I never had one." - -"That's true," said Granthope. He saw his chance, and turned to Clytie. -"I never had a sister, either," he said deliberately, catching her eye. - -Clytie's eyebrows went up. He nodded. It was question and answer. She -moved toward him a little, unnoticed, and his hand touched hers. - -Mr. Summer added: "I don't care, though, I prefer to have women -mysteries. It's more interesting." - -Mrs. Page came up in time to hear the last words. "Oscar Wilde says that -women are sphinxes without secrets," she contributed. - -"I wonder if any woman is happy enough not to have a secret," Clytie -said. - -"I hope that yours will never make you unhappy," Granthope replied; and -added: "I don't think it will." He pressed her hand again, unobserved. - -At this moment, Cayley returned. - -"Something doing, Mr. Cayley?" said Miss Cavendish mischievously. - -"Yes, unfortunately. It's a matter of business and important. I've got -to see a man to-morrow morning in the city. It's too bad, but I'll have -to go down to-night, after all." - -"Why, the _idea_!" Mrs. Page cried indignantly. "You'll do no such a -thing! It's outrageous! We can't _possibly_ spare you, Blan; you'll -spoil the party!" - -"It's my loss. I've got to go, really!" said Cayley. He turned to -Clytie. "I'll have to turn you over to Mr. Granthope, I'm afraid. I -don't want you to miss the time, of course." - -Clytie looked at Granthope, puzzled. - -"_You_ shan't go, anyway, Miss Payson!" Mrs. Page insisted. "Why, we're -going to get up and see the sunrise to-morrow morning! That's what we -came for. _Please_ don't break up the party," she begged. - -Clytie smiled subtly, and hazarded another glance at Granthope. - -"I really came up to bring Miss Payson home," he said, "but of course -I'll leave it to her. The fact is, I've brought her a message from her -father." - -"Oh!" Mrs. Page exclaimed, "I do hope it isn't bad news." - -"On the contrary, it's good, I think. Nevertheless, I'll have to break -it to her gently. And with your permission, I will, now." - -A look at Clytie, and she walked off with him up toward the summit of -the mountain. - -"What can it be, Francis?" she exclaimed. "I'm all at sea. But of -course I understood from what you said that it was, somehow, all right." - -"Clytie," he said, "it _is_ all right--we've passed the last obstacle, I -think. But it's hard to know how to tell you. If you'll let me tell it -my way, I'll say that, of all the women I have ever known in my life, -the two whom I have loved best were--" - -"Me--and--?" She held his hand tightly. - -"You and your mother." - -She seemed to be in no way surprised, new as the thought was to her. It -only struck her dumb for a while. Then she said: - -"I must telephone to father at once. Oh, I must reassure him!" - -"Shall we go back?" he asked. - -She stood for a moment deliberating. Then she put her arm in his. -"I've seen the stars and moon," she said, "I've seen the lightning, I've -seen the false dawn. Let's stay, now, and see the sunrise!" - -They walked, arm in arm, to the summit of the mountain, and sat down -upon a rock to gaze at the city, far away. - - -There it lay, a constellation of lights, a golden radiance, dimmed by -the distance. San Francisco the Impossible, the City of Miracles! Of -it and its people many stories have been told, and many shall be; but a -thousand tales shall not exhaust its treasury of Romance. Earthquake -and fire shall not change it, terror and suffering shall not break its -glad, mad spirit. Time alone can tame the town, restrain its wanton -manners, refine its terrible beauty, rob it of its nameless charm, -subdue it to the Commonplace. May Time be merciful--may it delay its -fatal duty till we have learned that to love, to forgive, to enjoy, is -but to understand! - - - - - *EPILOGUE* - - -It was quiet at Fulda's. The evening crowd had not yet begun to come. -The Pintos, however, had arrived early, and were at their central table -talking in low, repressed voices. Felix, at the front counter, looked -over at them occasionally under his eyebrows, as if there were something -unusual in their demeanor. - -Mabel sat erect, her hands in her lap, looking straight before her, -speaking only in monosyllables. Elsie's smile had diminished to a set, -cryptic expression. She looked tired. Maxim leaned his heavy, leonine -head upon his hand, and drew invisible sketches with his fork upon the -table-cloth. Starr and Benton talked in an undertone. - -"I didn't go over," said Starr, "I simply couldn't." - -"Well, somebody had to see, so I went." - -"Was it--bad?" - -Benton shook his head. "No, lovely. Wonderful. One wouldn't think--" - -Mabel looked across at them. Starr lowered his voice. - -"Just ten days, isn't it?" - -"Yes." - -"How did you happen to hear?" - -"Why, I was at the _Bulletin_ office when word was telephoned in. There -was something about the description that struck me--I began to -worry--then I went over with a reporter." - -The door on Montgomery Street opened, and Dougal came in. He moved like -a machine. His face was hard, his eyes glassy, as if he had not slept -for many nights. He sat down like an automaton, pulled off his hat and -let it drop carelessly to the floor. - -"Where have you been?" Elsie asked him. - -"I don't know. Just walking. Anywhere." - -"Did you--?" - -"Yes. I _had_ to. I couldn't stand it not to." - -Benton, the most composed of them all, pulled himself up in his chair. -"Let's have something to drink," he suggested. He called the waiter and -gave his order. A bottle was brought and the glasses filled. They -seemed to awake, around the table, and each one took a glass. Benton -raised his. They all drank in silence. Mabel, her eyes dimmed, held up -two fingers. Elsie smiled. - -"That's right!" she said, and held up hers. Mabel gulped down something -in her throat. - -"Well," said Benton, throwing off the mood, "we might as well have -dinner." He took up the menu and looked it over. - -They all ordered languidly. The talk began in a desultory fashion, and -the group became almost normal--all except Dougal, who stared steadily -across the room to where, under a drawing was a scroll bearing the words -from _Salome_: "Something terrible is going to happen,"--and Mabel, who -did not speak and watched her plate. The restaurant, meanwhile, had -begun to fill up. Dishes rattled, voices chattered, new arrivals -appeared every few minutes. - -Dougal looked up from his plate listlessly. "I saw Granthope and his -wife on the Oakland boat yesterday," he said. "I guess he's going East; -they had a lot of luggage." - -"Did you speak to him?" Benton asked. - -"No. I started to, then decided not to break up a honeymoon party. But -I heard her say something queer. I've been wondering about it." He -stopped, as if he had forgotten all about them there at the table. Then -he continued in a slow labored voice: "It was the queer way she said -it--the way she looked, somehow." - -"What was it?" Starr asked. - -"We were just opposite Goat Island." He paused and took a breath. "She -said--" - -They all waited, watching him. He tried it again. "She said--'Doesn't -the water look cold!'--then she kind of shivered and said--'Let's come -inside'--we were just opposite Goat Island." - -Maxim repeated the words: "'The water looks cold'--Oh, God!" he -exclaimed softly. - -There was a silence for a moment, then Starr said: - -"D'you suppose she knew?" - -"How could she?" Benton asked. "Nobody knew till this noon, did they?" - -Elsie spoke: "Of course she knew." - -Mabel nodded her head slowly; her breast was heaving. - -There was a pause for a moment. It was broken by Benton, who sat facing -the door. - -"There's The Scroyle!" he exclaimed. "Who's that with him?" - -"Oh, that's Mrs. Page," said Elsie, narrowing her eyes. - -Gay P. Summer, jimp and immaculate, with trousers creased and shiny -shoes, with the latest style in mouse-colored hats, entered with his -lady, and looked jauntily about for a good table. He found one near the -Pintos. Having seated his partner, he leaned over toward her and -whispered for a few minutes. By her immediate look in their direction, -there was no doubt that he was informing her of the fame of the coterie -at the central table, and boasting of his acquaintance with it. Then he -arose. - -"By Jove!" said Benton. "He's coming over here! What d'you think of -that!" - -Gay approached dapperly, bowed to all, and laid his hand on the back of -Dougal's chair. Dougal leaned forward and avoided him. - -"Good evening, everybody," said Gay affably. "The gang is still alive, -I see!" He smiled inclusively. Nobody answered. - -"I should think you'd want to find another restaurant, now," he -continued. "This place is getting altogether too dead. It's only a -show place now. All the life seems to have gone out of it." - -"That's right," Maxim murmured. - -"Funny how places run down,"--Gay was forcing it hard--"why, I know -several people who won't come here any more. It isn't like it used to -be, anyway, nowadays." He grew a little nervous at his apathetic -reception, but went on. "Say, I've got a lady over there I'd like to -introduce to you people. She's a corker. Suppose I bring her over. -You need another girl." - -Benton shook his head. "Not to-night, Gay. Sorry. Executive session." - -Gay looked round the table, noted the two empty places and started: "But -couldn't--" - -"No," said Benton, "we _couldn't_. Some other time." - -Gay, about to move away, looked at Dougal. "Say," he said, "what's -become of Fancy Gray? Are you expecting her to-night?" - -At the sound of the name Mabel dropped her head on her arms and began to -cry aloud. Her shoulders worked convulsively. - -Elsie put her hand round her neck. "Oh, stop, May!" she whispered. -"Don't cry--please!" - -Dougal looked at Mabel. His small eyes gleamed as bright and dry as -crystal. - -"Don't stop her, Elsie! If anybody _can_ cry, for God's sake, let them -cry!" - - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HEART LINE *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48984 - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so -the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. -Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this -license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) -electronic works to protect the Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and -trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be -used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific -permission. 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