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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..81879d6 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54102 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54102) diff --git a/old/54102-0.txt b/old/54102-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 64ba8a6..0000000 --- a/old/54102-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7724 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Whip Hand, by Samuel Merwin - -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 -www.gutenberg.org. 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 Whip Hand - A Tale of the Pine Country - -Author: Samuel Merwin - -Release Date: February 3, 2017 [EBook #54102] -Last Updated: March 13, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIP HAND *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - - - -THE WHIP HAND - -A Tale Of The Pine Country - -By Samuel Merwin - -New York: Doubleday, Page & Company - -1903 - -[Illustration: 0001] - -[Illustration: 0009] - -[Illustration: 0018] - - - - -BOOK I--BEGINNINGS - -PROLOGUE--The Young Man at the Stern - -A THICK, wet night on the southwest coast of Lake Michigan a dozen -years ago; a wind that sweeps over the pitching lake and on over the -dim white beach with a rush that whirls the sand up and away. Trees are -bending up there on the bluff. The sand and the rain are in the air--or -do we feel the spray from yonder line of breakers, a hundred yards away? - -And deep in a mudhole on the lonely road that skirts the bluff--the four -horses, fetlock-deep in the sticky clay, straining forward like heroes, -the members of the student crew in their oilskins throwing their weight -on the wheels of the truck--is the Evanston surf-boat. - -The driver has pulled his sou'wester hat down on his neck behind and -swung the U. S. L. S. S. lantern on his arm; he stands beside the -forward wheel, cracks his long whip and swears vigorously. - -“Hold on a minute, boys,” he calls over his shoulder; and he must shout -it twice before he is heard. “Whoa, there! Stand back! Now, boys, get -your breath and try it together. When I call------ Now. All ready! Let -her go!” - -The men throw themselves on the spokes, the horses plunge forward under -the lash of the whip. A moment of straining--an uncertain moment--then -the wheels turn slowly forward, the horses' feet draw out with a sucking -sound, and the boat rolls ahead. The driver unbuttons his oilskins at -the waist and reaches beneath an under coat for his watch. They have -been out two hours; distance covered, two miles. Before him is darkness, -save where the lantern throws a yellow circle on the ground; behind -him is darkness, save for the white boat, the little group of panting, -grunting men, and, a long mile to the southward, the gleaming eye of -the Grosse Pointe lighthouse, now red, now white. But somewhere in -the darkness ahead, somewhere beyond the white of the breakers, a big -steamer is pounding herself to pieces on the bar. So he buttons his coat -and shifts the reins and swears at the horses. He seems to swear easily, -this young fellow; but he is thinking of the poor devils on the big -steamer, lashed to the mast perhaps, if the masts are still standing; -and he is wondering how many of them will ever ship again. - -***** - -A huge bonfire lighted up beach and breakers. Around it huddled a motley -crowd, students in rain-coats or sweaters, sober citizens and residents -of the north shore, fishermen, and all the village loafers. But the -students were in the majority and were making most of the noise. It was -they who had built the fire, raiding fences and wood-yards to send up -a blaze that should tell the poor fellows out yonder of the warmth and -comfort awaiting them on shore--if they should ever get in through the -surf. They were cheering, too, giving the college yells and shouting -out inspiriting messages--as if any noise below the sound of a gun or -a steam fog-horn could hope to be heard over the roar of the lake! But -this was a great occasion and must be made the most of. - -Of course no such body of students could act in concert without a -recognized leader; and the young man who claimed the honour could be -distinguished at a glance. Now issuing orders to the foragers, now -mounting the pile to adjust with a flourish the top barrel and to pour -out the last can of kerosene, now heading the war-dance around the -crackling fire or leading the yells with an improvised baton, always in -evidence, as busy and breathless as though his labours had an aim--was -a long-faced, long-legged student. He wore a cap that was too small to -hide his curly chestnut hair. His face was good-natured, if flushed with -the responsibilities of his position. His rain-coat thrown aside, he -stood attired in a white sweater with a wide-rolling collar, and a pair -of striped trousers that fitted close to his nimble legs. - -“Hi, there! Here they come!” - -A small boy was shouting. He had been stationed on the bluff; and now -he was sliding down, using his trousers as a toboggan on the steep clay. -“Here they come!” - -The news spread. “Here they come!” was passed from mouth to mouth. Those -who had gone out of the firelight, in order to get a glimpse of the -hulk that stood out dimly against the horizon, now came running back and -joined their voices to the cheer that was rising. - -Yes, they had come. A Coston signal was burning up on the bluff; and -half a hundred pair of legs were running up the beach to lend a hundred -hands in getting a ton and more of surf-boat down the ravine road. The -tall young man led the way, thanks to the nimble legs, and called over -his shoulder as he ran: - -“This way, boys! Everybody this way!” - -The horses were taken out in a hurry and led off to the nearest barn. -Long ropes were rigged to the back axle, “everybody” laid hold, and -then, with the crew men still hanging to the spokes and the young driver -leaning back on the tongue to guide the forward wheels, the surf-boat -went bumping and lurching down the road. With a rush and a cheer she -went, as if the fever of the waiting crowd had got into the wheels, as -if the desperate hands of the half-drowned men out yonder were hauling -them on--impatiently, madly, courageously hauling them on. - -On down the beach, the broad wheels plowing through the sand; on toward -the breakers that came running to meet them: into the water with a -splash and a plunge, until ankles were wet and knees were wet--then -a halt. The eight young men in oilskins bustled about the boat, their -yellow coats and hats glistening in the firelight; and the crowd stood -silent at the water's edge, looking first at them and then at the -black-and-white sea out yonder--and an ugly sea it was. But in a moment -the confusion resolved into harmony. The eight men fell into place -around the boat, lashed on their cork jackets, laid hold of the -gunwales, ran her out into the surf, tumbled aboard--and the fight was -on. - -It was a fight that made those young fellows set their teeth hard as -their backs bent over the oars. They did not know that this storm had -strewn the coast with wrecks; they did not know that the veteran crew at -Chicago had refused to venture out in their big English life-boat. And -they did not care. Too young to be prudent, too strong to be afraid, -these youngsters fought for the sake of the fighting; and they loved it. -So they worked through the surf with never a thought of failure, with -never a thought that the white waves might beat them back; and they -shook the water out of their eyes and watched Number Two, who was -pulling stroke to-night, and went in to win. And all the while the young -man standing erect in the stern, swinging the twenty-foot steering-oar, -was swearing, letting out a flow of language that would, as Number Two -said afterward, have made a crab go forwards. It was plain that he was -enjoying it, too. - -The fire was sinking; the drizzle was cold and penetrating. The little -groups down on the hard sand near the water were tired of straining -their eyes into the blackness. The moment of enthusiasm was past. The -surf-boat had slipped away like a dream--a moment of tossing against the -sky, a glimpse of set faces, a shout or two over the pounding surf, then -the lead-black lake with its white flecks, the lead-black sky, and the -spot of deeper black where the steamer lay. A shivering fellow brought -an armful of driftwood from a dry nook and threw it on the fire. The -idea was good and the others took it up. Soon the flames were leaping up -again. - -And now what more natural than a song! The bleached-out bones of a -forty-ton lumber schooner lay curving up from the sand; here mounted a -student, he of the white sweater and long legs, and the others crowded -around. - -“All right, Apples; let her go!” - -And they sang out merrily there, with the glare of the fire in their wet -faces and the wildness of the lake in their throats: - - “Oh, my name is Captain Hall, Captain Hall!” - -A rush of wind carried the next words down the beach; but the last lines -came out strong: - - “Hope to------you go to Hell! - - Hope to------ you're roasted well! - - Damn your eyes!” - -“Hi-yi!”--it is the small boy again. “There she is! There she is!” - -“Where, boy?” - -“Out there--off the breakwater! There--see!” - -Again the straining eyes, again the lead-black of the sky and water. Is -that the boat, that speck of white away out, or is it a whitecap? Now -it is gone. Has the boat dropped into a hollow of the sea? Who knows! A -white speck here, another there, white specks everywhere! “Boy, you're -dreaming.” - -“Sure he's dreaming. They haven't been gone twenty minutes. What's the -matter with you!” Yes, it is only twenty minutes; and there is a weary, -bitter hour yet for the poor devils before they may set foot on land. -Another song is the cry; and more wood--heap her up! Again Apples -mounts his grim perch--the head- and footstone of half a dozen forgotten -sailors--and marches the “Grand Old Duke of York” up the hill, and -marches him down again; and when he was up he was up, up, up; and when -he was down he was down, down, down; and when he was only half way up he -was neither up nor down; and the rain thickens; and the smoke and flames -run along parallel to the sand, so fierce is the wind; and the -poor devils out yonder call up what prayers they may have known in -childhood--and lucky the sailor who remembers how those prayers used to -go! - -There is more singing and more watching; then, after a long while, the -boat is sighted. She is coming in from the north, making full allowance -for the set of the surf. As she works slowly nearer they can make out -the figure of the steersman and the huddled lot of crew men and sailors. -The fire is renewed again and a shout goes up. She hovers outside the -line of surf, then lifts on a roller and comes swiftly in to the sand, -so swiftly that the oars must be hauled in with a rush, and the crew -must tumble out, waist-deep, and catch the gunwales and heave her -forward before the wave glides back. - -There is one man in the stem, rolling about between the feet of Number -Two. Even in that uncertain light, and bedraggled as he is, it is plain -that his dress is of a different quality from that of the sailors. -Bareheaded he is, and one can see the white in his hair and the wrinkles -on his smooth-shaven face. It seems, too, that he wants the physique of -his companions, most of whom are able, for all the exposure, to spring -out without assistance. The steersman, who has been watching him with -some anxiety, leans over and helps him out, and then, swinging him on -his shoulders, carries him pickaback up out of the water and toward the -fire. Word goes around that this is the owner of the steamer. - -“Here, Jack,” calls Apples, bobbing up close at hand, “you're to go up -to the house on the bluff. They are making coffee for all the boys. Let -me give you a hand.” - -The steersman makes no reply, but, as his burden protests that he can -walk, lets him down, and each young man takes an arm. In a few moments -they are all, rescuers and rescued, in a hospitable kitchen drinking -black coffee and crowding, with steaming clothes, about the range. The -steersman drinks a second cup at a gulp and looks around for his men. He -is not joining in the talk, for a heavy responsibility rests on him, but -his eyes have the blaze of excitement in them and his square jaw is set -hard. His white, drawn face shows that the work is telling. - -“Come on, boys,” he says quietly. “Time for the next trip.” - -Quiet falls on the room that was just now loud with talk. It continues -while the crew men toss down their coffee, hastily retie their cork -jackets, and file out into the night. The sailors have been exultant -over their rescue; but now they are reminded of the comrades out yonder, -and they fall into moody silence. - -But after all, it is a great thing to be alive when one has been -clinging to a rope in a desperate sea with ugly thoughts to face. At any -rate, these men seemed to find it so; for, after a time, when doubtless -the white surf-boat was bobbing far out, one of the hundred white flecks -on the black lake; when doubtless the poor fellows who had to wait, old -Captain Craig with them, were still cursing and praying--and one of them -had wept foolish tears when they parted--they fell back into talk. The -drama had reached but the second act, and no one could say if it was -to be a tragedy, but the warm kitchen and the plentiful coffee, and the -thoughtless talk of the half-dozen students who had followed them in, -were not to be resisted. Within half an hour the banter and jokes were -flying fast. - -The elderly man, whose name was Higginson, was sitting close to the -range, wrapped in a blanket. He found Apples at his elbow and spoke to -him. - -“What crew is this?” - -“The Evanston crew.” - -The man nodded and was silent, but after a few moments he spoke again. - -“Who was that young man in the stem? Is he the Captain?” - -“No, the Captain is sick. He is Number One.” - -“What is his name?” - -“Halloran--Jack Halloran.” - - - - -CHAPTER I--Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow - -In a mahogany office high up in a very high building sat Mr. G. Hyde -Bigelow. An elaborate building it was, with expensive statuary about the -entrance, with unusually expensive mosaic floors on all of the fifteen -or more stories. A dozen elevators were at Mr. Bigelow's service, and a -dozen uniformed elevator boys to bow deferentially whenever he granted -his brief presence in the necessary actions of going up to his office or -coming down from his office--boys that were fond of remarking casually -when the great man had stepped out, “That's G. Hyde Bigelow.” A very -expensive building, in fact, such as best comported with his dignity. - -For Mr. Bigelow was a rising man; and the simple inscription on the -ground-glass door, “G. Hyde Bigelow & Company,” already stood in -the eyes of a small quarter of the financial world of Chicago for -unqualified success. If a syndicate was to be floated, if a mysterious -new combine was to be organized, what so important to its success as the -name of G. Hyde Bigelow somewhere behind the venture--what so necessary -in the somewhat difficult task of making it plain that paper is gold, -that water is a solid, as the indorsement of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company? -If Bigelow invested largely in Kentucky coal lands, what more reasonable -than an immediate boom in Kentucky coal--and that men should speak -sagely on the street of the immense value of the new mines? If Bigelow -went heavily into the new-style freighters that were to revolutionize -the lake-carrying trade, what more natural than a rush in “new -freighters,” and who could know if the Bigelows should unload rapidly on -an inflated market? But the great man is speaking! - -Before him, on the mahogany desk, were spread some papers--vastly -important papers, or they could never have penetrated to the Presence to -take up time of such inestimable value. “Time is money” is a phrase that -had been heard to fall from the Bigelow lips. Perhaps some one else had -coined this phrase years before; perhaps Mr. Bigelow himself might even -vaguely remember hearing it: what matters it! Did not old phrases -fall new-minted from his lips? Did not the minor earths and moons -and satellites that revolved about the Bigelow sun recognize in each -authoritative Bigelow utterance an addition to the language? And were -there ever such jokes as the Bigelow jokes? - -Before him were the papers; beside him, in a broad-armed, leather-backed -mahogany chair, sat the junior partner, the “Company” of Bigelow & -Company, Mr. William H. Babcock. A youngish man was Mr. Babcock; a very -well dressed man with a shrewd, somewhat incredulous eye; a man who -speaks cautiously, is even inclined to mumble in a low voice; and who -finds his worth and caution recognized as a useful, if secondary, -part of the importance of Bigelow & Company. Lacking in the audacious -qualities of his senior, it would seem, but shrewd, very shrewd--not a -man given to unnecessary promises or straight-out declarations. And if -Mr. Babcock had a phrase, a creed, locked securely away in the depths -behind that quiet face, it was “Business is Business.” Business _was_ -business to Mr. Babcock; and he had hopes, even a fair prospect, indeed, -of himself rising to a point where Time should be Money, thanks to -the aid of the Bigelow name. And in the part of those depths where the -thinking was done, the thought lurked, that if the time should ever come -when Business-is-Business and Time-is-Money should be combined in his -career (and everything about him tended to combination), Chicago would -be too small for William H. Babcock. - -The papers were before Mr. Bigelow, and the great brain was grappling -with them; it being Mr. Babcock's part to weed out details and trouble -Mr. Bigelow only with the broader facts. - -“And now, Mr. Babcock,” said the head of the firm, “how are we to arrive -at this?” - -Mr. Babcock leaned forward and mumbled a few sentences with the air of a -man habitually afraid of being overheard and caught. Mr. Bigelow's brow -drew together, in such a state of concentration was the massive brain. -History has not recorded the subject of these documents; whether it -was Kentucky Coal or New Freighters, or the booming town of Northwest -Chicago, or suburban street-railways, or one of the dozen or more -growing interests that absorbed at this time the attention and some of -the money of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company (to say nothing of the money of -the Bigelow followers), we may never know. For at the moment when the -Bigelow brows were knitted the closest, when the questions raised by -the papers were about to attain a masterly and decisive solution, an -office-boy entered the room--a round-eyed boy so awed by the Presence -that he was visibly impatient to deliver his message and efface -himself--a boy who was habitually out of breath. - -“Lady t' see y'u, sir.” - -Mr. Bigelow turned with some annoyance. How often had his subordinates -instructed this boy to demand the card of every visitor and to lay it -silently on the mahogany desk. But, on the other hand, Mr. Bigelow made -it a point to rise above petty annoyances. - -“Well, boy, what is the name?” - -“Sh' wouldn' give 't, sir.” - -The great man's expression changed slightly; it was as if he had -suddenly remembered something. He turned to the desk and fingered the -papers for a moment. - -“We will take up this matter after lunch, Mr. Babcock.” - -He spoke a shade more pompously than was his wont in dealing with his -junior. - -Mr. Babcock bowed and went out. Then Mr. Bigelow turned to his -stenographer, who was clicking away by the window. - -“Miss Brown, I wish you would go out to the files and look up all the -Pine Lands correspondence for me.” - -The stenographer laid aside her work and went out. - -And now Mr. Bigelow, once more bland and gracious, turned to the boy who -was holding fast to the bronze door-knob. - -“Here, boy, you may show the lady in.” - -Having said this, he bent over a letter and was so busy that he seemed -not to hear the woman enter. For some moments she stood there by the -closed door. Once she coughed timidly; and even that failed to reach the -attention of the much-absorbed man. But at last the letter was laid down -and Mr. Bigelow turned. - -“Sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair that Mr. Babcock had just -now vacated. - -But the woman, it seemed, preferred to stand. “Why have you come here?” - -“I think you know why I have come.” - -Mr. Bigelow took up the letter again and regarded it closely. A great -many thoughts apparently were passing through his mind--thoughts not -of Kentucky Coal and New Freighters, but of a stately suburban home of -granite completed within the year; of a certain Mrs. Bigelow who was -rising rapidly toward the social leadership of her suburb, and was -carrying Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow into circles that he, with all his prestige -of a sort, could hardly have penetrated alone; of a certain dignified, -comfortable, downright conservative suburban church, where the Bigelow -money and judgment, new as they were in such surroundings, were -undoubtedly earning a place; and, lastly, of certain small Bigelows. Of -all these things thought Mr. Bigelow. - -“Well,” he said at length, without raising his eyes, “what is it now? -What do you want?” - -“If I had only myself to think of,” began the woman, speaking in a low -voice and with noticeable effort, “I should never come near you. But I -_have_ others to think of, and I think you have, too. I have not come -for money. If I could do it, I should like to bring every cent you have -given me and throw it in your face.” - -Rather unpleasant words these--unpleasant to Mr. Bigelow, at least. -Indeed, they seemed quite to disturb him, to drive him even toward -something that in a man of smaller reputation might have been called -brutality. - -“See here,” he burst out, wheeling around, “how long is this going to -keep up? How many years more must I support you in idleness? There is a -limit to this sort of thing.” - -It may be that this was not so much brutality as sagacity. It may be -that Mr. Bigelow had in mind certain steps that might relieve him from a -situation which was growing more and more annoying and disagreeable, and -that this was one of the steps. For such words as these--such a blaze -of righteous anger--should be very hard to answer in a man's own office; -hard at least for an unknown woman before the great G. Hyde Bigelow. -Even if the woman had come with vague notions that she was acting within -her rights, that the law which had severed her life from the life of -this man so long ago would support her now--what was she, after all, but -an unfortunate woman standing before a great man? - -But there was a curious expression in her eyes: perhaps she was more -resolute than he supposed; perhaps simply she had reached a point in -wretchedness where such words fail of an impression. - -“When I told you I should never come to your office, I did not know how -you would take advantage of me. I should not have come even now if I -could have helped it. I don't know if it will interest you to hear that -I have not had enough to eat this week.” - -She was mistaken; Mr. Bigelow was interested. Indeed, he was beginning -to recover himself and to look down on the ill-dressed woman before him -from the proper altitude of G. Hyde Bigelow. As he looked down he told -himself that he was quite calm, that he was standing frankly and firmly, -as became him, on his proper footing as a prominent citizen. And such a -sight as this, an ill-dressed woman standing in this mahogany office -and talking about starvation, was really shocking. He felt that he -must dismiss her, must rid himself of her; but on the other hand he was -really touched by her distress. Mr. Bigelow leaned back in his chair and -half closed his eyes. - -“How long has this been going on?” he asked, in a voice that showed -signs of leading up to something further. - -She gave him a puzzled, indignant flash of her eyes and replied in the -same low voice: - -“It is more than fourteen years.” - -More than fourteen years--think of it! For fourteen years this woman -had been suffering for an error of judgment, the mistake of two deluded -years, the mistake of giving her life to the wrong man, and now had even -faced starvation because of it. So mistakes are punished in this world. -Mr. Bigelow, on his part, looking down from his great altitude, was -running over these fourteen years and recalling the mistakes of his own -that had brought this annoying visit upon him. He had been soft-hearted; -he saw it plainly enough now. In his effort to do right, to comply -voluntarily with certain nominal requirements which a less honourable -man would have easily evaded; in his effort to be kind to a foolish -young woman--and a very young woman indeed she had been at first--to -humour her childish notions of the facts of this real world--his -impulses had carried him too far, and she, of course, had taken -advantage of him. He should have known better. - -“Hum! More than fourteen years,” he repeated, still sitting in his chair -and looking dreamily at a group picture of a certain Board of Directors -that hung above his desk. “Has it ever occurred to you to stop and -figure up how much you have cost me during these years--how many times I -have sent you large sums without a word? If you will think of it now you -will remember that I have asked no questions--that I have known nothing -whatever about your life and your acquaintances. I have not known how -real your needs were.” - -He might have gone on to much plainer speaking, even to harshness (it -being necessary sometimes in dealing with such people), had not his -half-shut eyes strayed downward from the Board of Directors to her face. -What he saw there seemed to weaken his self-possession. And, for -another thing, it was certainly getting time for his stenographer to -be returning with the Pine Lands correspondence. It was really a rather -awkward moment for Mr. Bigelow. - -“Well,” he said abruptly, opening his eyes again, “there is no use in -prolonging this conversation. Tell me what you have come here for and be -done with it.” - -It was so abrupt that she had to wait a moment and compose herself -before beginning in the same low tone: - -“I told you I had not come for money, and I meant it. I am tired of -begging for my living. But it would cost you very little to help me -to some situation. If you will do this, I will try not to trouble you -again.” - -Mr. Bigelow pressed his lips and beat a tattoo with his fingers. - -“What kind of work can you do?” - -“I couldn't take skilled work, I suppose,” she replied a little wearily, -“and I could hardly expect an office position--at my age. But I have -thought of going into a department store. I really ought to be able to -do something there.” Mr. Bigelow was fidgeting a little: he was thinking -of the Pine Lands correspondence. - -“Why, yes,” he said, “I don't know but what that could be arranged. I -will speak to Murray of the New York store. He is employing hundreds of -people all the time, and I know he has difficulty in getting good ones.” - -He finished with a wave of dismissal and turned back to his letter. But -the woman waited. - -“You will see him to-day?” she asked. - -“Why, yes”--rather impatiently--“I will try to see him this noon.” - -“And shall I come back this afternoon?” - -Mr. Bigelow leaned back again. - -“No, I hardly think that will be necessary. Let me see------” - -“I don't see how I am to know if I don't come back--unless you write to -me.” - -He hesitated at this and, thanks to his hesitation, received a keen -stroke below his armour. - -“If it is the writing,” she said, with quiet, bitter scorn, “you know I -have letters enough now.” Yes, she had, and he knew it: there had been -blue moments in his life when he would have given a great deal to get -those letters back--letters relating to money matters, most of them; -explanations why certain sums were still unpaid, perhaps; letters sent -back into another life, a life which had gone under Mr. Bigelow's feet -as he mounted to higher things. And she added: “You needn't sign your -name, if you'd rather not.” - -Yes, it was time to close this interview. He was not enjoying it at -all--was even willing to concede a point in order to be rid of her. So -he said shortly: - -“Very well, I will see him at noon and let you know by the morning -delivery if he has a place for you.” She turned to go but he detained -her. “Here--wait! I will tell him that you are a cousin of mine. Do you -understand?” - -She made no reply to this, but simply went out as swiftly and silently -as possible. She was evidently as glad as he to be through with it. And -Mr. Bigelow, after glancing at the Pine Lands correspondence and after -a look at his watch, put on his hat and coat and left the office. It -was not yet his lunch time, but when bent upon a benevolent errand -Mr. Bigelow would hear of no delay; and recalling that Mr. Murray was -usually on the point of leaving the club when he entered, he was willing -even to hasten his lunch in order to make sure of a chat with him. - -And chat they did, those two powerful, public-spirited ones, over their -cigars, of the questions of the day, handled as only masters of commerce -could handle them; until at length--this from Mr. Bigelow, lighting a -fresh cigar and speaking casually over his hollowed hands: - -“By the way, Murray, I have a cousin who is in a bad way--husband -dead, and some children, and that sort of thing. I want to do a little -something for her if I can. Could you give her any work?” - -“I'm afraid the best place I could offer would be behind the counter in -my North Side store at three dollars a week or so.” - -“She'd be grateful for anything. It's a matter of keeping alive.” - -Mr. Murray was always glad of an opportunity to oblige Mr. Bigelow. - -“Send her around, with a letter, and I will do the best I can for her.” - -And thus did Mr. Bigelow free himself from an entangling alliance. He -had now given the woman an opportunity to prove her worth; if after this -she should stumble into dark ways, there would be only herself to blame. -It had cost him considerable effort, to say nothing of his time; but had -it not been worth while? - - - - -CHAPTER II--Low Life - -Dear Mr. Halloran: Won't you come down to the Settlement Friday -evening? The young men's class and the girls' class are going to -entertain themselves, and Mr. Appleton Le Duc has promised to help them. -I want to have another talk with you about George. We have heard nothing -from him for a week, and I am afraid he is in trouble. After such -encouragement as he has given us I don't like to let go of him. - -“Be sure to come if you can. - -“Very sincerely yours, - -“Margaret Davies.” - -The above note accounts for the presence of Halloran and Le Duc (he of -the nimble legs) in a suburban train, on that Friday evening, bound for -Clybourn and the Settlement. A few seats behind them sat Miss Davies, -escorted by Mr. Babcock, a young business man who seemed to be going -in heartily for charity work at this time. Le Duc was talking earnestly -with Halloran. Apparently a momentous question had arisen in his life, -and the young man beside him, who had had plenty of experience in -earning his own living, who could steer a life-boat in a boiling sea, -whose generalship alone, it was conceded by one party in college, had -won the Chicago game that fall, was, he felt sure, the best counselor -to be found in the difficult task of guiding a life straight toward its -destiny. - -“I don't know another fellow I could come to with a question like this, -Jack; but you understand these things; you know life. You've learned -things already that the rest of us spend the most of our lives finding -out. Now what would you say--how far do you think a man ought to go in -sticking to the idea of an education?” Le Due's “education,” for several -years now, had consisted of the study of elocution, with an occasional -peck at English Literature or the French language, and a few, a very -few, disastrous examinations. “I've got an offer to quit college right -now to go in as second comedian with the Pooh Bah Company. They offer -thirty dollars a week to begin with, with every prospect for a future. -It is a rising company, you see--a sure thing. They are as safe as the -First National Bank. If that were just the work I wanted, I couldn't do -better.” - -Halloran was sitting back with his hat down on his forehead, listening -conscientiously, but losing a word now and then, thanks to the roar of -the train. - -“You see, old chap, I set my mind on Shakespeare when I first came to -college. I decided then it would be Shakespeare or nothing with me. -A man's got to have a goal, you know; he's got to aim high or he will -never get anywhere; and my goal has been Shakespeare. But the question -is just this: Ought I to give up this offer, when it may be my chance -to get a good start on the stage? I might be able to work up into -Shakespeare by keeping at this for awhile, and making a professional -acquaintance, and saving up money. Men have done it, you know. What do -you say?” He evidently really expected an answer, so Halloran gave it to -him. - -“I am afraid you'll have to decide that for yourself, Apples. If you -care enough for first-class work to stick it out in college and then -take your chances, you ought to do it: if you don't, take this. That's -all I can say.” - -With which casual conversation did an evening begin that later promised -to influence considerably the lives of several members of the party. - -They found a crowd of ragged boys and girls at the Settlement. Le Duc -was to “read” for them; but he found himself fairly eclipsed by the -performances of two of their own number, one a youthful dancer with a -wizened face and remarkably thin legs, named Jimmie McGinnis, the other -a dark-eyed girl, one Lizzie Bigelow, who sang some popular songs in a -really good natural voice. - -This girl made an immediate impression on Apples. At the close of her -first song he stopped applauding long enough to say confidentially to -Halloran, “Remarkable what a lot of talent you find among these people. -That girl ought to be in the profession. Really a stunning girl--and -clever, awfully clever. Splendid! Splendid!” he exclaimed again, turning -toward her as she came into the hall, and applauding vigorously. - -She laughed and shook her head, but made no reply. She evidently liked -applause. - -“You must have studied--to sing like that,” Le Duc went on. - -She flushed with pleasure, but only shook her head again and sat down on -the stairs to listen to the next recitation. - -As Le Duc stepped out, bowing with his easy, good-natured smile, Miss -Davies saw her opportunity to speak to Halloran. At the beginning of -the evening she had talked a moment with Lizzie Bigelow, but with -unsatisfactory results as her troubled expression showed. She now led -the way to a sitting-room behind the stairs. For a short space they -were silent--this young woman who, with the buoyancy of youth, with -sanguineness hardly justified by the facts of the black city that was -pulsing around her, had plunged into its darkness the feeble light -of her hopes--and this young man who knew so well the difficulty of -climbing up from sloth and incompetency and vicious ignorance that he -was willing to help. He put his hands in his pockets and stood waiting -for her to begin. He liked to look at her, she was so earnest and -unconscious of herself; perhaps, too, because she was well worth looking -at, with her clear, delicate skin now a little flushed and the masses of -brown hair above her forehead. - -“I wrote you,” she began, “that we have lost track of George. He was -here as usual a week ago Wednesday, but then he disappeared. Lizzie, his -sister, says they have no idea where he is; and I don't think she cares -very much. She says he can look out for himself, and that is more than -they can do for him at home. Now what are we to do?” - -“Have you seen his mother?” - -“No--not yet. She always rebuffs me. If she were more like our other -women it would be easier. I wanted to talk with you first, and see if we -couldn't think of some way to find him.” - -“But we have no clue. She might be able to give us a hint. Even to learn -something about his loafing places would be a start--something to work -from.” - -“I suppose--if she would tell. She is proud, you know. But we must do -something. I can't leave that boy wandering around the city like this. -The first thing we will hear of him in jail, and after that------” She -ended with a shake of the head. - -At a thought that entered his mind Halloran smiled slightly. “Have you -talked with Jimmie?” he asked. . - -“Jimmie McGinnis?” She had to smile, too. - -“He might tell something. One always knows what the other is up to. I -can't think of any other way.” - -She looked earnestly at him as she asked: - -“Will you try it--if I bring him here?” - -He nodded, and soon she returned with him. - -Jimmie looked from one to the other, his small eyes devoid of -expression, his inscrutable thin face as innocent as that of a sleeping -baby. - -“Sit down, Jimmie,” said Halloran, “Miss Davies and I want to talk with -you about George.” - -Jimmie seated himself and waited respectfully, his thin legs dangling -off the floor, his hands clasped meekly in his lap. He was always -willing to be talked to--rather enjoyed it, in fact--was particularly -fond of moral lectures; had a keen little mind somewhere behind his -narrow forehead, and could bring himself to discuss moral questions -with his lady teachers, showing all the symptoms of an eager water-lily -striving upward from its dark bed toward the light of day. Miss Davies -he understood perfectly and really liked, in a way. She was good--and -why not? Who wouldn't be good with plenty to eat and wear, with fathers -and mothers, and grand suburban homes with real trees about them (he had -been taken out there once for some Fresh Air, on which occasion he had -seen a cow for the first time in his life). But he was a little afraid -of Halloran, and inclined to grow secretive in his presence. To sum -him up, Jimmie was already launched upon a professional career--he sold -score-cards at the baseball park--and he fully realized the importance -of his place in life; even hoped some day to be a manager and walk out -to the players' bench before the game in a checked suit, announce the -battery of the day, and toss out the new ball from a capacious pocket, a -new ball in a red box with a white seal around it. - -“Now, Jimmie, do you know where he is?” - -Jimmie shook his head. - -“No, sir. I heard some one say he hadn't been around for a week.” - -Halloran threw a quick glance at Miss Davies; but it was not too quick -for Jimmie. - -“He has run off, Jimmie, and we want to find him. It don't make any -difference why he went. Anybody's likely to get into trouble now and -then; and I'm not going to ask any questions. But if he has lost his job -or got into trouble I think we could help him.” - -[Illustration: 0051] - -“Yes, sir, I'm sure you could,” Jimmie replied gratefully; and what -little expression there was in his face said plainly enough, “Don't I -know how you have helped me?” And then he added in eagerness to assist, -“I could stop at the box-factory, if you like, and see if he ain't -working any more.” - -“All right, I wish you would. Tell us about it Monday at class. That's -all.” - -At this Jimmie got soberly down from the chair and went out, leaving -Miss Davies and Halloran to look at each other expressively. - -“Well, what do you think?” said she. - -“He is going straight to warn him. Something is the matter. We must -try his mother now. And we ought to do it quickly--before Monday.” Miss -Davies mused for a moment. “We could hardly get there to-night--we might -go to-morrow afternoon, when she gets back from her work. I will arrange -to have dinner here.” - -Halloran nodded; and they returned to the hall. Jimmie was dancing again -when they reached the parlour door, to music by one of the resident -teachers who had volunteered to take the place of Miss Davies. Apples -had disappeared and Lizzie Bigelow also. Miss Davies looked around for -them; then, realizing after a moment that Jimmie's feet were not the -only ones that were stepping in time to the music, she glanced up the -stairway. A laugh from the upper hall and the fling of a skirt at the -head of the stairs brought a puzzled expression to her face. But the -explanation came in a moment. Just as Jimmie stopped dancing and was -turning toward the hall, Apples came running down the stairs, a cane in -his hand, and after him Lizzie Bigelow, laughing, nearly breathless, and -with a heightened colour. - -“Oh, Miss Davies,” Apples exclaimed with all his good-natured assurance -on the surface, “Miss Bigelow and I are going to do a cake-walk, and -we want you to play for us--a good, lively march, with a lot of jump in -it.” - -Miss Davies looked at him surprised, then at Lizzie; finally, in -distress, she turned to Halloran. But he found nothing to say. Before -Miss Davies could collect her wits and think of some excuse Apples was -blundering on. - -“Play the one you did for the boy--that'll do splendidly. We've been -practising up-stairs, and it goes mighty well. We'd better do it now, -before we get our steps mixed. Miss Bigelow says she'd rather do this -than the song she is down to sing--didn't you?” he added, appealing to -her. - -She assented rather shamefacedly, and Miss Davies gave up. There was no -rule against cakewalks, and she herself had invited Le Duc to entertain -the boys and girls; so she concealed her dislike for this juvenile way -of overstepping boundaries and went to the piano. Halloran was downright -sorry for her, but he did not see what he could do.. - - - - -CHAPTER III--George and His Troubles - -Halloran foresaw that it might be late Saturday evening before Miss -Davies and he could return to Evanston, so he arranged with another -member of the crew to stand his watch from ten to midnight; and then, -knowing nothing of what might be before them, these two young people set -out on their search for George. - -Picture a tenement far out on the North Side, one of thousands of -smoke-coloured buildings, somewhere on an obscure street that was -discouragingly like dozens of other streets. Without the tenement an -electric light (for it was six o'clock and dark on this autumn day) -threw its flare on an uneven cedar-block pavement, worn into ruts -and holes that had given up, hopeless of repair, to mud and filth; on -obscure little tailor shops and masquerade-costume shops, and dirty -tobacco shops with windows hung full of questionable prints; on an -itinerant popcorn-and-peanut man, who had stationed his glass-enclosed -cart on the corner and was himself sitting on the curbstone, the picture -of disgust with life; on a prosperous red-brick corner building, that -shed light and comfort from half a dozen broad windows, announcing -itself by its curtained inner door and its black-and-gilt signs to -be Hoffman's sample room. So much for the neighbourhood. Within the -tenement, up three flights of stairs, was an apartment of two rooms -where lived Mrs. Craig with her daughter and her son, who bore the name -of Bigelow. - -Lizzie was sewing: her mother, back home for supper in the intermission -between the work of afternoon and evening, was taking off her hat. - -“Is the fire going, Lizzie?” - -The girl shook her head without looking up. “How did I know you were -coming home so early?” - -“It is six o'clock.” - -“Well, how do you suppose I'm ever going to get my work done if I have -to make fires for you? Where's George, I'd like to know! That's his -business, anyway.” - -Mrs. Craig, herself wondering where George was, went to the next room -and built the fire herself. - -A few moments later Halloran knocked at the door, and Miss Davies and -he were admitted. And while Miss Davies was opening the subject, trying -with the utmost delicacy to obtain the confidence of this woman, trying -to show by simple, honest words how sincerely she and Halloran were -interested in George, another boy, a small, wizened-faced boy with thin -legs, was hiding in a doorway across the street, watching with keen -little eyes for their exit and pondering with a keen little mind on -their probably next move. - -Miss Davies was beginning to wonder if she had not overestimated the -difficulty of talking with Mrs. Craig. Or was it the present topic that -made it a little easier? For she had come now with no offers of food, or -coal for the fires; but only to talk about George, to see if she and the -young man with her might not, by giving their time and interest, make -the search easier. And the main difficulty seemed now to be that the -woman knew no more about it than they did. - -“It was early last week,” she explained, speaking quietly, in a voice -that had been brought to a dead level by habitual restraint. “He went -off to work as usual, after dinner, and said he would be back to supper. -I don't know where he can be. He has never been a bad boy.” - -Lizzie, now that so much trouble was going on about George, began to -feel unusually sorrowful herself--was even moved to tears, and had to -go into the other room and bustle about getting supper ready before she -could bring her feelings under control. - -“Mr. Halloran thought the best thing would be to go out and search for -him,” said Miss Davies. “And he thought you could help--:--” She turned -to him and finished by saying, “Won't you explain to Mrs. Craig?” - -“Can you tell us,” he responded, “of some place in the neighbourhood -that George has been in the habit of going to--some place where he has -friends?” - -Mrs. Craig shook her head. “No; when he was not working he was almost -always at home.” - -“But he surely had acquaintances. You see, Mrs. Craig, we must have some -place to start from.” - -She thought for a moment. “No; so far as I know, there was only one man -in the neighbourhood who took the least interest in him. And he wouldn't -know anything about this. We have not lived here so very long------” - -“Who is this man?” - -“Mr. Hoffman, on the corner. He has been kind to George, once or twice.” - -Halloran rose, saying aside to Miss Davies, “I will speak to him and -come back here,” and went out. - -He found a stout German behind the bar in the corner saloon who proved, -upon inquiry, to be Hoffman himself. He was a substantial sort of man, -speaking excellent English, and representing, if one could judge from -the neat, well-stocked bar, the clean floor, the geraniums in the -windows, and the general air of thrift and order, what he might have -been pleased to call a decent saloon. Halloran began without preliminary -by asking Hoffman if he knew George Bigelow. - -The saloon-keeper rested both hands on the bar and looked across it, -scrutinizing him closely before answering. - -“Yes, there is a boy of that name around here.” - -“He disappeared from home last week and his family are worried about -him. I have been told that you might help me find him.” - -Hoffman shook his head, still watching him closely. “No,” he said; “I -know nothing about him.” - -“Has he been about here at all lately?” - -“No; it is two weeks since I saw him.” - -The honest German face had the word suspicion plainly written on it, -Halloran saw that he was not getting at the man at all, so he leaned on -the bar and explained himself. - -“I have come from the University Settlement. George has been at class -there regularly until lately. His teachers believe in him and want to -help him. They are afraid now that he has got into trouble and is afraid -to come back. Do you know anything about it?” - -For reply Hoffman asked: - -“What is your name?” - -“Halloran.” - -“You come from the Settlement?” - -“Yes.” - -“Have you seen Mrs. Craig?” - -“I have just come from there. Miss Davies, George's teacher, is with her -now.” - -The big man slowly turned it over in his mind. Finally he said: - -“I will tell you all I know, but it is not very much. There is another -little boy named McGinnis who is around with him most of the time. The -McGinnis boy worked at the ball park until the season closed last week. -For ten days now he has been coming here for a glass of beer pretty -often, and he always carries away the lunch. You say you want to help -George?” - -Halloran nodded. - -“Well, I will tell you what I think.” He used the word “think,” but his -expression showed that he knew pretty nearly the facts. “McGinnis has -an uncle, a boat-builder, who has a place under the Wells Street Bridge. -You go down there and you will learn more than I can tell you.” - -Halloran thanked him and returned to Miss Davies, Mrs. Craig, he found, -was getting ready to go back to work. They were all waiting anxiously -for him. - -“I think we are started right,” he said cheerily, addressing the mother. -“I will be back later in the evening and report progress.” To Miss -Davies he said: “You would rather wait at the Settlement, I suppose. I -shan't be back probably before eight or nine o'clock.” - -“Why,” she said in a low voice as they were passing out the door, “don't -you want me to go with you?” - -“I am afraid not. I could hardly take you prowling around the wharves at -night.” And he told her, as they went down the stairs behind Mrs. Craig, -what directions the saloon-keeper had given him. They were still talking -about it when they joined the woman on the sidewalk; and then the three -of them walked together to the second corner, talking it over and over -again. For Mrs. Craig was beginning to discover that the young people -were downright interested in her and in her boy. There was no gracious -down-reaching here, no lending a kind hand to the unfortunate; but just -a young woman who believed she could help, and a young man who knew a -little of what it all meant; in short, here were two real persons who -said little and meant more. She was not afraid, as she looked at them, -that they would pray for her, loudly and zealously, kneeling on the -floor of her own tenement rooms. And she was inclined to wonder, looking -out at them across her own sea of troubles, what life was to hold for -them. - -Something of this last thought got into her manner as she took their -hands at parting; indeed, her reserve so nearly broke that she gave -them--not singly, but the two of them together--a look that brought a -faint blush to the young woman's cheek and to her mind other thoughts -than George and his difficulties---thoughts that disturbed her a little -later when she and Halloran were walking toward the Settlement, so -foolish and trivial were they beside the realities of the scene that had -passed--thoughts that were resolutely put from her mind. - -At the Settlement steps she lingered a moment. - -“I wish I were going with you,” she said, hesitating. “There is pride in -the family, and George has his share of it. If you--if he should think -you blamed him or looked down on him, he would never come back with you. -He has always been hard to reach, and I think it is because of a rough -sort of sensitiveness.” - -Was it unreasonable that she should wish to continue handling this -case, just now when tact was so urgently needed? Or that she should give -Halloran a hint of the best course to take with the boy? - -“I don't blame him,” he replied. “The way to help him is to make him -feel like somebody. If you once let him get to thinking that he is good -for nothing he'll run down hill fast. Jimmie McGinnis, now, will take -all the knocks you can give him, and go right on turning his pennies; he -will be in the City Council yet.” - -She nodded, for she saw that he understood. And he turned away to begin -the search, walking over to the car-line. As he sat down in the first -trailer a small boy ran alongside the rear car and swung himself aboard, -hurriedly drawing in a pair of thin legs after him. - -Through gloomy Kinzie Street walked Halloran, when he had reached the -river district, and after him, half a block or more, came the thin legs. -He got to the bridge by the Northwestern Station, crossed over, and -looked around for a means of descent to the wharves. After a moment he -saw in the shadow of a brick building--a building that was a South Water -Street market in front, a factory in the upper half and a tug-office -behind--what seemed to be a break in the railing. He crossed to it -and found, sure enough, a narrow stairway, covered with mud and slime, -leading down toward the oily surface of the river. It was curious--he -had crossed the bridge a hundred times, but it had never occurred to him -that there was any life below the street, that men came and went down -there on the strip of wharf, so narrow that it seemed little more than -a fender for the buildings that backed on the river. Picking his way -carefully to avoid slipping, he walked down. - -Not far away, in the basement of one of these buildings, was a sailors' -grog-shop: hardly three rods from the bridge-walk, even in sight from -it, yet so quietly tucked away below story on story of brick building, -behind half a dozen smoking tugs, in a spot where no sober doorway, no -saloon doorway even, had a right to be--so hidden, in fact, that not -half a dozen of the tens of thousands of people on the bridge daily had -ever observed it. It was a wonder how a drunken man could ever get out -through the door without falling into the river--perhaps one did fall -now and then. There was music in the saloon now--a squeaking fiddle and -loud noises. - -Beyond, the river was splashed with red and white and green from -lanterns and side-lights; and a dozen masts, their spars and rigging -apparently interlaced, were outlined against the western sky. At the -moment a big freighter, bound out, was headed for the draw, forging -slowly and almost silently down the sluggish stream, passing along like -some dim modern Flying Dutchman. Above, on the bridge, cars were rumbling -and footsteps were pattering--the feet of the late suburbanites hurrying -to their trains. All Chicago was alive and bustling above him and around -him; but here, at the end of a crooked passage, was a quiet spot--a -shop filled with boats, completed and uncompleted; and sprawled on his -stomach behind one of the boats, a cigarette in his mouth, an Old Sleuth -story spread on the boards before him, a candle stuck in a beer bottle -at his elbow, was a boy, who was trying to believe that he was, in spite -of cold feet and sniffling nose, really tough and comfortable. - -“Well, George,” said Halloran, “how's business?” - -George started, turned pale, and hastily took the cigarette from his -mouth; then remembering his independence, he as hastily put it back. -Halloran sat down on the stem of a ship's boat and filled his pipe. - -“Miss Davies and I heard you were in hard luck,” he went on, “and I -thought I'd look you up and see what's the matter.” - -George had not been able to speak until now. He sat up, pulled doggedly -a moment at his cigarette, and said in a very sulky tone: - -“Who told you I was here?” - -Halloran would have been glad to answer him, but as it fell out no reply -was necessary. For just as he was pausing to light his pipe a step -was heard in the passage and a wizened-faced boy appeared in the outer -circle of the candle-light. - -It was Jimmie, eyeing Halloran with distrust, glancing apologetically at -George, more disturbed, in fact, than Halloran had yet seen him. To him -now George turned a reproachful face. - -“I never done it, George,” said Jimmie. “I'd a-busted first. He went -around to old Hoffman and he put him onto my uncle. I see him go in -there and I followed him up.” - -“That's right, George,” Halloran put in by way of seconding Jimmie. -“We couldn't get a word out of him. It was your mother that sent me to -Hoffman. But I've come down to talk with you, and I'm not sorry that -Jimmie is here. Now, what's the trouble? Tell me about it; and then I -will see what we can do for you.” - -The two boys looked at each other. George had been told so often by -certain Settlement workers never to smoke, never to read bad books, -never to be seen in company with beer bottles, he had supposed that of -course these things would be the first subjects under discussion; and -the omission disconcerted him. Jimmie, meanwhile, being the shrewder of -the two, was signaling him to go ahead and spit it out. So he began, -in a blundering, sullen sort of a way; stumbled, blushed and stopped. -Finally Jimmie had to take it up. - -“You see, it's just this way. George's folks was getting down pretty -close to the boards, and they was the rent coming, and George he had his -week's pay, but it wasn't enough, so I just told him”--very patronizing -here, was Jimmie, as became a young capitalist who had once clasped the -hand of Captain Anson--“I told him to give it to me and I'd put it up on -the Washington game, with a little wad of my own. It was an easy mark, -'cause the Washingtons were tail-enders, and I had hold of their mascot, -and he was willing to put up even. It was like taking the money out of -his pocket, but a man can't throw away a chance like that--and then I'll -be damned if Billy Connors didn't up and throw the game.” - -“He's a hell of a pitcher,” was George's comment, spoken with a sidelong -glance at Halloran. - -“Never you mind,” said Jimmie, “Watson 'll never sign him again, after a -trick like that.” - -Rather an interesting situation this--an odd confusing of good motives -with bad--an amusing symptom of good feeling in speculator Jimmie, to -be taking up the support of a young man who had been ruined through his -advice. He would doubtless get over it as he grew older. If every man -were to feel the same responsibility, what a wreck it would make of our -institutions! What a scrambling there would be in Wall Street, in La -Salle Street! Incipient socialism this--a bad thing, very bad! - -Halloran nodded and smiled a little. “I know,” he said. “We're all of -us likely to fall down now and then. I don't know as I should have done -just that, though. A man can't afford to gamble unless he can afford to -lose; and there aren't many such men. I'm not sure there are any.” - He smiled again--he knew just how George felt, just about what he was -thinking behind that clouded face. “But now the question is, how are we -going to fix you up again? You can't stay here. How much did you lose?” - -Again it was Jimmie that answered, “Three fifty.” - -Halloran thought for a moment, doing some sums in his head; then he took -a purse from his pocket and counted out the money. - -“Now, George,” he said, “this is a loan. I know you're square, and I'm -willing to take your word for it. There is no hurry; but some day, -when you feel you can, you may pay it back. We needn't either of us say -anything about it.” George's expression was changing every moment; but -he took the money. “Suppose we go back to the house now, George. You -will find your mother and sister mighty glad to see you. And Miss Davies -is waiting at the Settlement to hear about you. She has worried a good -deal. Then Monday we will see if we can't get the factory to give you -another trial.” - -George's armour was not proof against such an attack as this. He got up, -put the story in his pocket, and lighted Halloran and Jimmie along -the passage with his candle; then he snuffed it out and put it in his -pocket, threw the bottle into the river and followed the two others up -the stairway to the street. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--The End of the Beginning - -Bending over a book sat Halloran, both elbows on the table, the fingers -of both hands run through his hair. The book lay open, and spread out on -the leaves was a note from Miss Davies; in part this ran as follows: - -“. . . George is to have another trial at the box-factory. They seem -willing to be kind to him, but Mr. -------- says emphatically that he -will not be taken back a second time. But I have confidence in him, and -particularly in your influence.. . . - -“I will tell you all about it when you next come up to the house. I am -more grateful than you know--indeed, we all are--for your. . .” - -Halloran had made a discovery. Had he been given to self-scrutiny it -would have come earlier; and it would then have been a little easier to -face. But this way of thinking would not help him now; it had not come -earlier, it was difficult, and the question lay before him: should he -make that next visit to the house or not? - -He glanced up at his nickel alarm-clock and saw that it was time to go -on watch; so he put on his sweater and oilskins and sou'wester, blew out -his lamp and walked across the Sheridan road to the station. - -It was nearly four years since he had taken care of the Davies's furnace -and slept in their barn. That had been in his days of “subbing” for -a crew position, and he had not been a boy even then; he had entered -college at twenty-two. Since then, thanks to his salary as a surfman in -the pay of the Treasury Department, he had got along rather better; he -was no longer the traditional poor student. He was not ashamed of his -struggles, nor especially proud of them; he was inclined to think that -struggling is not in itself particularly commendable; that it is success -that counts. He knew that Mrs. Davies and her daughter had followed his -work with interest, and he was grateful for it. “Grateful!”--there was -the word that he stuck at. For, after all, had there not been from -the start an element of patronage in their kindness to him? “Kindness” - another word that hurt. - -Number Six was “punching” the watchman's clock that always hung just -within the station door. - -“Hallo,” he said to Halloran. - -“Hallo.” - -“Wet night.” - -“Yes, rather.” - -“Better keep an eye on that light off the long pier. She's running in -pretty close, I think.” - -“All right; good-night.” - -Number Six disappeared in the dark of the road, bound for bed; and -Halloran pulled his sweater up around his neck and fell to pacing the -veranda. The surf was booming on the beach below; the rain was cutting -in toward the land. Out beyond the breakers were lights--a line of them -along the horizon. - -The time had come to look ahead. In another six months his college -course would be completed; his playtime would be over; realities lay -beyond--downright realities that surround a man, that show clear through -him, that bear him down and under unless he be made of stronger stuff -than they. Wits were needed, and judgment; the determination that goes -against things, not with them. There would be no making up of cuts, out -there in the world, no special examinations; a man must look higher -than the faculty there. Mistakes would be hard to rectify, perhaps could -never be rectified, where a man was already nearer thirty than twenty. -He decided not to make that next call. - - - - -BOOK -- PINE - - - -CHAPTER I--A Decision to Fight - -The little city of Wauchung straggled over and between and almost -burrowed under a chain of sand-hills--shining yellow hills with tops -entirely bald save for a spear of rank grass here and there or a dwarfed -pine. Outside the mouth of the river was Lake Michigan; behind the -little city were the pine forests of the Lower Peninsula. And the one -interesting object of this whole region was a man--for houses and shops -were commonplace, streets were ill-paved, the railroad was wanting in -energy and capital, the inhabitants were mostly leveled down to the -colourless monotony of the sand-hills--a man named Martin L. Higginson. - - -[Illustration: 0018] - -There was one imposing building of granite and red bricks on the -business street--a glance showed the name of Higginson over the -entrance. Two large mills stood by the river, surrounded by piles of -lumber on the land, fronted by rafts of logs in the water, sending out -their droning hum all day long (and frequently all night long); inside, -men were bustling and pushing in the effort to keep up with the drive -of work outside, the long runways were active with men and with moving -lumber--and on each of the mills was the name Higginson. Two steamers -lay at the Higginson wharves--lake carriers, both, of the Higginson -line. A logging railroad ran back some twenty miles into the forest; it -ran over Higginson land to Higginson land, to bring what logs the little -river could not bring--for the Higginson property extended far to north, -south and eastward. There was, in fact, one rich man in the little -city--one man who had done what he could to keep the railroad busy, to -keep the harbour dredged, to keep the streets in better condition, -to make Wauchung a real city, awake, energetic, proud--one man who -represented Wauchung to the outside world: Mr. Higginson. - -An elderly gentleman he was, a man who had passed the fighting age, who -would have stopped to rest any time these last six or eight years if the -business had permitted it; but it had stood until recently that the -one man in Wauchung who did not take his vacation every year was -Mr. Higginson. As it often falls out, however, one of his severest -misfortunes had brought its blessing. For five years and more he had -looked for a man, for the man, whom he could trust to take up the -burden that was beginning to weigh so heavily; and for five years he -had failed. He liked young Crosman, the head clerk in the office; but -Crosman, though welcome enough at the house as Mamie Higginson's regular -caller, hardly showed administrative qualities--his limitations were -marked. And so the search had gone on: he had tried them, young “men -and middle-aged men”--and he had found that all of them wanted money, -and none of them wanted work. And what he had to offer was work, little -else--hard work, work for head and hands, much thinking of the business, -little thinking of self: the spirit that would live for the business, -that would take its pride in the quality of the Higginson work, that -would strive, as he had striven, to make the name of Higginson a synonym -for honest work, work done on time, work done a little better than the -contract demanded. Where could he find a man like this? - -And then, after five years, through a shipwreck of all occurrences, he -had found him. He knew him at once, as he had thought he should. Looking -down from the heights of character and accomplishments, on a world -of little persons, foolish persons, earnest, weak persons, dishonest -persons, pompous, empty persons--all the sorts that go to make up a -man's world, and nearly all that he is likely to see, unfortunately, -from the heights--looking out and down and all about, he had seen a -young man's head and shoulders climbing up above the rabble. The young -man had not yet climbed very high; but he was climbing, and that -was enough. So Mr. Higginson had come to think more lightly of the -rheumatism, the failing eyes, the many signs of age that had been -brought sharply to his notice by that shock and exposure on the west -coast. - -At the time of this chapter, Mr. Higginson and Halloran were seated in -the office--Halloran before his desk, Mr. Higginson beside it--looking -at a typewritten letter or statement. Twenty-four hours earlier Mr. -William H. Babcock, of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company, had taken the train -for Chicago, leaving this document behind him; and now the time had come -to answer it. - -This was the culmination of a long series of letters and interviews. The -beginning had been when this same Mr. Babcock had endeavoured to buy -the Wauchung mills in the interest of Mr. Bigelow. It seemed that -Mr. Bigelow was about to enter the lumber business. His genius for -combination, for exploitation, was to be given a new direction. Kentucky -Coal, New Freighters, Northwest Chicago, all his various interests were -prospering, thanks to the name of Bigelow, and now the lumber business -was to be vitalized, to be vivified. Just how it was to be done, or what -was to be done, was not known; that secret was kept close in the Bigelow -office. Each newspaper published its own version, to be believed or -disbelieved at the discretion of the reader. All Mr. Higginson knew was -that the Bigelow firm could never buy him out, that he had not spent -his years in building up a business for the benefit of Mr. Bigelow. -The business was his life, and he meant to keep it for himself and his -family and his legitimate successors. So the first refusal had been a -simple matter--a plain, emphatic no had sufficed. - -Then for a time there had been silence; until one day Halloran learned -that the Pewaukoe Lumber Company, twenty-odd miles up the shore, had -succumbed to the blandishments of the low-voiced Mr. Babcock, and had -sold out mills, standing timber and all. It had not been a prosperous -company, thanks to the shiftless management of the children of the -original owner; but there was no reason why it should not do well in -good hands. There was no question now that, whatever he meant to do -next, Mr. Bigelow had a footing in the lumber trade, and Halloran had -been watching him closely. - -The document on the desk was a statement of the “understanding” - or secret agreement that was henceforth to be law among the lumber -producers of Lake Michigan. It had been presented and accompanied with -much confidential talk from Mr. Babcock--all tending to show that the -lumbermen, with the sole exception of Mr. Higginson, were already united -to forward this agreement, that the business would be organized as never -before, that great economies would be brought about in the carrying side -of the trade, that the strain of competition' would be avoided, that -prices would be maintained at a somewhat higher figure (a main point, -this) under penalty of fines, that--much more low talk and friendly -disinterested confidences. For their interests were identical, said -Mr. Babcock; and there was room for them all. Efficiency was the -keyword--efficiency, productiveness, economy, identity of interests, -good prices. And lastly there had been friendly, almost deferential -intimations that G. Hyde Bigelow & Company held the key to the -situation, that the combination was already a fact, and that a firm -which might decide to stay out must take the consequences. - -Simplified, the whole matter came to this: Within the combination, -prosperity in plenty, but always subject to the guiding judgment of -G. Hyde Bigelow, hence a certain loss of identity and of control to -self-respecting heads of companies; without the combination, a fight to -a finish against the combined power and momentum of Bigelow & Company -and the “Lumber Trust.” Just how great was this momentum no one exactly -knew: but Bigelow was a magic name, no doubt of it. - -“You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?” said Mr. Higginson. - -His voice was disturbed and his expression showed worry and trouble. For -a year Mr. Higginson had been changing, very slightly but none the less -perceptibly to one as close to him, day after day, as Halloran was. -Until he had assured himself that his assistant was able to take up -the burden, he had kept up; but after that moment he had seemed, in a -measure, to let go. On routine matters he was as strong as ever, but -his mind refused to work automatically through new problems; there were -sometimes gaps in his reasoning that he found it difficult to bridge -over, and this worried him. So it had come about that a tacit agreement -existed between the older man and the younger, that in questions where -vigour was needed, of body or mind, the younger man should take the -lead; and Mr. Higginson mildly deceived himself by giving more attention -than formerly to routine matters and trivial details. It was Halloran, -therefore, who had spent the better part of a night thinking out this -question, whether to yield or fight. And it was Mr. Higginson, naturally -enough, who had put the question: - -“You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?” - -“Yes. The Bigelow part of it is what I like least. I am not sure that he -is just the man you would want to stand responsible for this business, -and therefore he certainly is not the man to take charge of all the -companies together--and that is pretty nearly what this paper means.” - -“Why do you think that?” - -“Well, he isn't solid. He's been lucky, and just now he's on the top of -the wave. But his interests and investments are spread out so wide that -a run of bad luck might upset him. I don't know that it would, but it -might. And then I have seen a little of him.” - -“You know him personally?” - -“Yes. I cut his grass for two summers in Evanston, and did odd jobs for -him.” - -Mr. Higginson pondered, and Halloran went on: “On the other hand, his -resources are large, and if we decide to stand out it may mean a long, -hard fight. It might be harder than we think.” - -Mr. Higginson was still thinking hard, forcing his mind to take up one -phase of the question after another; and the worried expression, so -frequently on his face nowadays, was more noticeable than ever. Finally -he said: - -“Then you are in favour of declining to join the combination?” - -This was the direct question that Halloran had partly foreseen. He -hesitated, marking at random with a pencil while his thoughts came fast. -At this moment he saw more clearly than he had seen at any time during -the night what a refusal would mean. Wealthy as Mr. Higginson was, his -wealth lay in the lumber lands, the logging railroad, in the mills and -the steamers, and in Wauchung property; to a certain extent the whole -town of Wauchung had grown up around Mr. Higginson and was directly or -indirectly dependent upon him; and all these interests, hanging as they -did on the lumber business, must suffer when this business was attacked. -But he caught himself--if he ran on into this way of thinking he was -lost. - -“Yes,” he replied; “I think we had better decline.” - -Mr. Higginson arose. - -“I will leave the letter to you,” he said; and then went out with a face -that seemed to express downright-dread. Honest old gentleman, he had -thought to take a rest; and instead he found himself facing the hardest -fight of his career. - -Halloran took up his pen and made the attitude of Higginson & Company -plain in three lines. - - - - -CHAPTER II--Under Way - -In the parlour of the Higginson home, one evening shortly after the -incident of the last chapter, sat Mrs. Higginson and her daughter, -with expressions hardly significant of an intense joy in life. In the -library, talking earnestly behind closed doors, were Mr. Higginson and -Halloran. - -“Well, Mr. Halloran, what is it?” had begun the head of the firm. - -“The fight is on. I got the first word of it to-day.” - -Mr. Higginson bowed slightly and waited. - -“Bigelow has cut the price down below cost.” - -It took a moment for the older man to grasp the meaning of this. - -“Below cost?” he repeated. - -“Yes; it's going to be a question of endurance.” - -“But we have some large orders on hand. They will keep us busy for -awhile. How does the Carroll & Condit lumber stand?” - -“It's about half cut out.” - -“You can go ahead with it, then, for this week. And after that the -Michigan City contract will keep us busy for awhile.” - -“The Carroll & Condit business is what brought me here to-night. Here -is a letter from them.” Halloran laid it on the table. “They offer us a -chance to meet the new price before they place their order elsewhere.” - -Gradually the meaning of Halloran's words had been sinking into Mr. -Higginson's mind; the relations of cause and effect had been clearing -before him. He looked the letter over silently, twice, three times. - -“I--I can hardly believe this------” He saw that this was useless talk -and he stopped. It had been a verbal order from Carroll, a man whom he -had reason to hold as the soul of honour; the price had been stated -and agreed to, precisely as for twenty years back; everything had been -satisfactory. Good Mr. Higginson had been the victim of a delusion. -After half a century of struggle he had allowed himself to believe that -the fight was about over, that his personal achievement meant something; -that he could stand securely on the heights. He had forgotten that -Business is Business, that Time is Money and Money Talks; he had -forgotten that the glorious old world was spinning along, as heedless -as ever, after the ever-receding glitter, and that there could be no -stopping until the last great stop should be reached. - -“From what I can gather,” said Halloran, “they mean to fight us all -along the line. The Michigan City contract, I think, is good. We have -it down in black and white, and we can make the delivery in our own -steamers; but we should have to use the railroads for most of our other -orders, and I'm afraid we can't do it.” He disliked this hammering one -trouble after another into the old gentleman's aching head, but it -had to be done. “I'm quite sure that Bigelow has influence with the -railroads, and of course he will use it.” - -Mr. Higginson was thinking--thinking. - -“How much--” he was still thinking, desperately raking his facts -together and facing what seemed like chaos--“how much is this going to -cost us, Mr. Halloran?” - -Halloran shook his head. - -“It's too early to tell. He must show his hand before we can plan our -game. He's beginning now, and before he gets through, by ------, we'll -smash him. We'll make him feel like a whipped coach-dog every time he -passes a lumber pile.” Halloran was getting so excited he had to get -up and pace the carpet. “I know the man; I know his meanness and his -vanity. I've worked for him, and I've seen him off his guard, and I know -his insolence. Before we get through with him he'll wish he had gone -into a bucket-shop, where he belongs, and stayed there, the damned old -bloated frog of a tin-horn gambler. Let him wreck his Kentucky Coal and -his New Freighters all he pleases, but he'll get a bellyful if he tries -to wreck the lumber business.” - -He stopped short, looked around at the dark, olive-tinted walls, at the -stately row of books in their morocco and calf and yellow and red and -gold; looked at the rich carpet and the restful chairs and at the soft -light of the polished student-lamp; looked last at Mr. Higginson--and -felt a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. What had he said? - -Somewhere in Halloran's make-up, deep-hidden beneath the laborious years -of work and study, lay a well, a spouting, roaring geyser of profanity. -It had come into the world with him; it had been richly fed during his -rough, knockabout boyhood; and now, in spite of the weights he had put -on it, a year or two of Michigan lumbermen had been enough to prime it. - -Mr. Higginson was still thinking--thinking. The facts were before him -now; at last he had penetrated to them and brought them together. And -he was facing them--meeting them squarely without flinching. Quietly he -sat, one elbow on the green-topped table, his hand shading his eyes; -and the lamplight fell gently on his head. He was facing the question -of himself, of his ability to conduct his own business; and another -question, granting that he was unable, whether he could, in his best -judgment, place everything he had in the world--his business, his -family, himself--in the hands of this man and bid him Godspeed in his -work. So he sat thinking--thinking; and Halloran, a little abashed, but -angry still, dropped into a chair and waited. At last the old gentleman -spoke--in a low, changed voice. “Mr. Halloran, I have not been well -lately; and I think it best--to tell you that--for the present the -business is in your hands. I will stay here and advise with you, but--I -do not wish you to feel hampered by my presence in carrying on this -fight. I am laying a heavy responsibility on you--but I think--I trust -you will be equal to it.” - -Mr. Higginson's part of the fight was over; and he had won. - -Mrs. Higginson was playing clock at the centre-table. She was a wiry -little woman, capable of great exertion and showing remarkable endurance -when set on some purpose, such as a shopping trip to Chicago; but -suffering at other times from languor, and low spirits, and in constant -need of medical attendance. - -She had never been able to understand why “Mr. H.” should insist on -burying himself in the lumber business, when he was plenty rich enough -to sell out and take her and her daughter forth from the slumberous -quiet of Wauchung into the stir of the world. Such stupidity, such -meanness of ideals (to pass over the injustice to herself--_she_ was -nothing; _she_ didn't count) was out of her ken. And in the second -place, her heart had been set for three seasons on a trip to Hot -Springs; and even if Mr. H.'s plainness of character were to hold his -interests in Wauchung in spite of her known desires, he certainly owed -it to her to give her an outing for a few months. She had borne a great -deal for him--but never mind. Doctor Brown would sympathize with her, -anyway--would bring her medicine every day if she were but so much as to -drop a hint. - -Mamie had been trying to read a novel; but being herself the meek -centre of a tremendous little drama, she found it difficult to focus her -attention. - -“Ma,” she said, after a time, “don't you think pa looks a little run -down?” This was a euphemism; there was no question that Mr. Higginson -was looking very bad indeed. - -“A little, perhaps,” replied her mother. At that moment, the -three-o'clock pile being prematurely completed, she gave up “Clock” in -disgust and shuffled her cards for the thirteen game. - -Presently she said, “My head has ached hard all day.” - -This was encouraging. Mamie took up her book again; but not for long. - -“Do you suppose he is worrying about the business, ma? He and Mr. -Halloran are working almost every night now.” - -“I suppose so,” Mrs. Higginson replied. “It would have been better for -him if he had taken my advice five years ago and retired. Your father -has no time to think of us, my dear.” - -Mamie felt some injustice in this and would have dropped the subject had -not her mother, roused to it, pushed on. - -“He says himself that Mr. Halloran has shown himself able to run the -business, and yet he will not go away even for a week. I think if we -could only get him off for a short time he would want to stay, once he -had made up his mind to it.” At this moment the library door opened -and the two men could be heard in the hall. Mrs. Higginson's face -brightened. “Play something for me, my dear,” she said. - -“Oh, no, ma. They are just coming in here.” - -“Who? Are they? Play the march Mr. Halloran likes so much.” - -Mamie went obediently to the piano and was crashing out the opening -chords when the two men reached the parlour door. Mrs. Higginson -rose and extended her hand with a bright smile. Mamie showed signs of -stopping, but Halloran nodded to her to go on, and dropped into a chair. -Mrs. Higginson came over and sat down by him, leaving her cards in -disorder on the table. - -“I had just asked Mamie to play for me before you came in,” she said, -pitching her voice somewhat above the noise of the march. “I always like -to hear her play when I have one of my headaches. It seems to make me -forget myself for a little while. And I really think she plays very -well.” - -Yes; Halloran thought so, too. - -“I am not one of your cultivated musicians, but I know what I like. And -that is all anybody can know, I guess. Only most people aren't honest -enough to say so. I have had a severe headache all day. It was in the -back of my head, just where I had one last Thursday; and if I hadn't -happened to have some of the pills left over that Doctor Brown brought -for me the last time, I don't know what I should have done. One does -hate so to give up. I have always said to my husband: 'No, Mr. H., I -will _not_ give up; I will _not_ go to bed and acknowledge myself an -invalid. Thank goodness I have pride enough left for that.'” Here -the doorbell claimed her attention for a moment. “Well, here is Harry -Crosman. He is such a good boy, we are all so fond of him. And then for -a long time”--very confidentially, this--“he was really almost the only -company there was for Mamie, and we were glad to have him drop around -on her account. The people in Wauchung are so--so--well, I'm sure you -understand. It was pleasant for the dear girl. I don't suppose he is -ever going to astonish the world, but we are always glad to see him. -Good-evening, Harry.” - -At this greeting the newcomer took a chair, and found himself just in -time to hear Mrs. Higgin-son, keyed up to extra exertions by the music -and the company, bring all her artillery to bear on her husband. - -“Now, Mr. Halloran, I'm just going to appeal to you if Mr. H. isn't -working too hard. Don't _you_ think it is time he took a little -vacation------” - -She stopped short, for the long-suffering Mr. H. had turned on her with -downright impatience. - -“Don't let me hear any more of that talk,” he said sharply; then, almost -before the last word was out of his mouth, he abruptly excused himself -and left the room. - -He left silence behind him, and some little consternation; and Halloran, -seeing on Mrs. Higgin-son's face the signs of a storm, excused himself, -too, leaving Crosman to weather it as best he might. - - - -CHAPTER III--Tightening the Blockade - -Mr. Babcock had come in early this morning, depositing a small -traveling-bag behind the door of his office, and then looking at his -watch to see if Mr. Bigelow were not about due. Somewhat travel-stained -was Mr. Babcock, as a glance at the mirror told him; and there was time -to wash and change his linen before his senior should arrive. - -Shortly entered Mr. Bigelow, pausing within the threshold. - -“Good-morning, Mr. Babcock. Did you find Michigan City still on the -map?” - -Mr. Babcock, giving a last flick at his coat-collar before the -mirror, turned, listened, and laughed at his senior's little jest. The -stenographer, sitting in her corner by the window, smiled and giggled. -Young men at desks in the outer office snickered and chuckled over their -books. The round-eyed office-boy tee-heed outright, and then, covered -with fright and confusion, disappeared behind the water-cooler as the -head of the firm passed on to the inner office. - -The arrival of Mr. Babcock with a traveling-bag was, it seemed, to be -considered important; more important even than the heap of letters that -lay ready opened on the mahogany desk. For now Mr. Babcock had been -summoned, the stenographer had been dismissed to some work in the outer -office, and Mr. Bigelow, closely attentive, and Mr. Babcock, with much -to communicate in that low voice of his, were settling down to consider -a problem. - -“The price appealed to them,” Mr. Babcock was saying, “but they are -afraid of Higginson. They admit it. Higginson, they say, has their -written order to cut out the timber at the old price. Higginson, on his -part, has agreed to deliver the entire bill, two hundred thousand -feet or more, at the wharf at Michigan City, by the fourteenth of this -month.” - -Mr. Bigelow's eyes strayed to his desk calendar. - -“Yes,” went on Mr. Babcock, “to-day's the eleventh. That gives us three -days to stop it in.” - -At this point there was an interruption. As had happened once before -when these two gentlemen were talking, the door opened and the small -office-boy appeared, catching his breath hurriedly before getting out -the words: - -“Lady t' see y'u, sir.” - -A decisive utterance was hanging on Mr. Bigelow's lips; a hand was -raised to make it more emphatic, but the lips closed and the hand fell. - -“You will excuse me, Mr. Babcock?” - -“Certainly.” - -“I shall be engaged only a moment.” - -The discreet Mr. Babcock withdrew, and the head of the firm, with a -glance at the heap of letters still untouched, turned, without rising, -toward the door. There was a curious expression on his face, the -expression of a man who feels himself at last in a position to cut -knots, who knows that he commands the situation. A person who might -choose to break in on such a weighty conference this morning need not -be surprised at summary treatment. And as the woman entered and softly -closed the door he leaned a little forward and drew his brows together, -his whole appearance saying plainly: “My time is short, madam. Speak to -the point.” - -The woman faltered and waited for his question. He said not a word. She -started to speak, but seemed unable to break through this heavy silence. -He waited, his brows coming down more and more. And at last, when the -words did pass her lips, they were not at all what she had meant to say. - -“I have tried not to come to you again. God knows how it hurts me. But I -had to come. I was turned out of the New York Store ten days ago, -without warning.” - -Once started, she was finding it a little easier to go on; but Mr. -Bigelow, carrying the weight of millions on his shoulders, dealing -hourly with questions of importance, greater or less, to the whole -commercial world, had no time now--kind as he may have been in the more -leisurely past--to waste on trivial matters. He had given the woman -a chance; was he to blame for her failure? Did “not potential success -exist within every human being? Was any man to blame for the shipwreck -of another? - -“I know nothing about that,” he cut in shortly and finally. “There is no -use in bringing your story here.” - -She quailed before him. “But I have a right--the law----” - -“The law is yours to use. If you think it will help you, use it.” He -rose, opened the door, and bowed her out. And she, baffled, humiliated, -at the end of her resources, went out without a word, crossed the hall -as steadily as any young stenographer, stepped into the elevator with -a composed face, and out into the street--and all this while there was -nothing to mark her out from a thousand other ill-dressed women; nothing -to show that her hopes were gone; simply a plain woman on La Salle -Street, quietly walking--where? Where could she walk now? Were there -still depths to sound, or had she reached the bottom? - -“Mr. Babcock!” - -The junior partner came out from his own private office at the sound of -his senior's voice. - -“You were saying,” said Mr. Bigelow, taking up the thread where they -had laid it down, “that Higginson & Company have agreed to deliver the -timber by the fourteenth. Now, of course, a blockade, to be effective, -must be complete.” This was self-evident to Mr. Babcock. - -“And so long as these people are free to deliver lumber the blockade is -not complete. What is your plan regarding this?” - -“The Michigan City people, as I said, are afraid of Higginson. But they -will accept our price the minute we can show them that they're safe -in doing it. They received a letter from Higginson's manager yesterday -stating that the Higginson steamer, with the timber, will reach Michigan -City on the night of the thirteenth or the morning of the -fourteenth. That means that it will be ready for loading on the -twelfth--to-morrow--and that the steamer will start the morning of the -thirteenth. Now, it's not hard to imagine a delay that would keep the -Higginson manager from getting the boat off in time. And if he fails to -deliver, we are promised the order.” - -“How do you mean to do this?” - -Mr. Babcock glanced around in that cautious way of' his, leaned -forward, and buzzed along rapidly for a few moments, his eyes keen with -eagerness. The senior partner listened closely and slowly nodded, to -show that he understood. Even Mr. Bigelow, as we have seen, was not -wholly free from annoyance. Head of the Lumber Trust was Mr. Bigelow, -but not, unfortunately, sole owner of the Lumber Trust. Fighting is -expensive; and voting heads of constituent companies are sometimes -unreasonable about expenses. Mr. Bigelow was skilful and resourceful; he -knew well how to paint rainbows that should dazzle even the hard-headed, -hard-fisted old lumbermen of Michigan; he understood how to make it -plain that money spent in defeating Higginson would come back threefold -when the defeat was over, and the price up where it should be, and the -“economies” of the trust in working order; he was shrewd, and he knew -that the sooner Higginson could be run out of business the better it -would be for him (to say nothing of the trust and its directors). And so -it was indeed important that the blockade should be made effective. The -railroads were practically closed to Higginson now, his customers were -to be had for the buying, but the steamers of the Higginson line were -still afloat and ready to deliver Higginson lumber at contract prices. -The Michigan City contract was not a matter of money; there was a -principle at stake. Higginson _must not_ deliver that lumber on the -fourteenth! - -“Very good,” he said, nodding again. “Have you the right man for this -work?” - -Buzz--buzz--from Mr. Babcock. More words from Mr. Bigelow. - -“You will have to move quickly.” - -“Yes, I am off now,” and the junior partner headed for the -traveling-bag, feeling in his pocket for a time-table. - - - -CHAPTER IV--Mr. Babcock Breakfasts Late - -The thirteenth was a storm-centre at Wauchung. At six in the morning, -while Mr. William H. Babcock was sleeping peacefully in a Grand Rapids -hotel, dreaming sweet dreams and smiling childlike smiles, conscious -even in slumberland that his work was accomplished; while the Martin L. -Higginson No. 1 was lying at the Higginson wharves with two hundred and -fifteen thousand feet of lumber aboard, Halloran was up and tumbling -into his clothes. Captain Craig, master of the Higginson No. 1, was -sitting grimly on the corner of the bed. - -“Do you know the man?” Halloran was asking. - -“No.” - -“Did he say whom he was acting for?” - -The Captain shook his head. - -At seven o'clock the No. 1. should be leaving the harbour; but here was -her master sitting on Halloran's bed, his seamed old face set hard with -the thoughts that were boiling behind it. Down by the mills, where the -first early risers were lounging in, where the lumber piles stretching -far along the wharves were glistening yellow under the light of the new -sun, all was quiet even to the steamer, whose stoke-room was cold, whose -boilers were giving out no sounds of preparation for the twelve-hour -journey. Over at Grand Rapids Mr. Babcock was still sleeping the sleep -of the just, dreaming once more that his man had come in by a late train -to report that all was well at Wauchung. And still Halloran was jerking -himself into his clothes, pulling on his old purple sweater rather than -waste time over collar and tie. - -“All right,” he said; “I'm ready.” Then he paused. The next move was not -to be settled offhand. “You went around to Billy's house, Captain?” - -“Yes; I've just come from there. The way that fellow talked bothered -me so last night that I couldn't sleep much. I got to thinking it over -after I'd gone to bed, and it struck me that if he wanted to cripple the -line he'd hardly stop at me. He'd go for Billy sure, for a good engineer -isn't an easy man to replace. And they tell me Billy hasn't been seen at -his boarding-house since noon yesterday.” - -Very true, Captain Craig! A good suggestion just now when Halloran is -still shaking the sleep from his eyes and trying to get these amazing -facts in hand, and to relate them with certain suspicions that rose at -the first word. It will probably occur to Halloran, when once he shall -get facts, suspicions and all firmly gripped in his mind, that heads of -trusts do not fight haphazard; that if certain deliveries of timber are -to be prevented heads of trusts are not accustomed to move in vain. -It is Mr. Bigelow's habit to arrive at results: no getting off at -way-stations for G. Hyde Bigelow; and obstinate persons who venture on -open warfare with the Great must shake the sleep out very early in the -morning if they hope to reach even a way-station along the Bigelow line. -Steamers cannot be run without engineers: engineers cannot be had -for the whistling in far-away Michigan ports with but forty hours of -grace--forty valuable hours not a whit longer than other everyday hours; -even shorter--hours that were diminishing, were growing more valuable, -would soon be precious. - -“How much did this man offer you?” Halloran asked. - -“Five hundred a year more salary and a bonus of five hundred extra, cash -down.” - -“Did he show the money?” - -“He had a big roll.” - -“Meant business, didn't he?” said Halloran dryly. “First thing we do, -we'd better go down and see if we have anybody left. Then we can talk -better.” - -So they went down to the wharves, where they found a few wandering -deckhands by the silent steamer. Evidently deckhands were not important -to trusts. - -“I guess Billy took the bait,” Halloran observed. “He is never as late -as this, is he?” - -The Captain shook his head. - -“Well, there is only one thing to do next, Captain. We've got to get her -down to Michigan City before to-morrow night whether the Trust likes it -or not. Do you suppose they've gobbled up the tug men, too?” - -It was not a hard fact to discover, for there were only two tugs in the -harbour; and sure enough, when, twenty minutes later, the manager for -Higginson & Company and the Captain of the No. 1 met again on the wharf, -they were both beginning to understand how clean a sweep the Trust -people had made of it. The Captain was growing angrier every minute, -and so was Halloran. The rascality of it was what aroused the Captain. -Waters and winds he could understand, but the ways of men were beyond -him. Two days before, in Chicago, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow had announced that -Higginson & Company must not make the delivery at Michigan City; and -this resulting moment, with Halloran sitting on the iron cap of a -snubbing-post and the Captain standing silent before him, was a very -dark moment for the Wauchung interests. - -“The damned old rascal,” said Halloran, reflectively. - -Craig's dull eye suddenly flashed. - -“I ought to have foreseen it,” he burst out. “It's the kind of thing to -expect from that Bigelow.” - -“Yes,” replied Halloran; “that's what I've been saying to myself. This -is a pretty fair sample of Bigelow's methods.” He was chagrined to think -that it could be done so easily. He had thought of anything, everything, -but this. - -“I'd like to set Bigelow's head on that pile of two-by-fours,” Halloran -went on, “and have about three shots at him. I don't believe he'd know -himself the next time he looked in the glass.” - -The Captain glanced at him mistrustfully. He liked this manager, but -this was not the time for jokes. - -“Did you ever see him?” asked Halloran, swinging a leg on each side -of the snubbing-post and letting a twinkle come into his eyes as his -thoughts seemed to run on Bigelow. - -The Captain sighed an impatient negative. - -“He's a big, vain man. You ought to see him come into church Sunday -mornings and swell down the aisle, with his wife and children trotting -after him. He's proud of being thought the big financial man in the -church; and whenever they'll let him he gets up after the sermon and -makes a speech about the church debts. Great temperance man, too--likes -to preside at prohibition meetings and plead for the sanctity of the -home.” - -Captain Craig was scowling. Every moment the situation was growing -more serious; and here was the manager of the company, sitting on a -snubbing-post and swinging his legs. Men were needed now, thought the -Captain angrily--grown men, not children. - -“One spring house-cleaning time--I generally put in the early mornings -and evenings there--G. Hyde called me in--I was putting down the hall -rugs just then--he called me in to light the gas. I had a match ready to -strike and he reached over and took it away from me and put it back in -the box. 'Young man,' he said--he never liked to remember my name--'do -you know how I rose from nothing to be the owner of this property?' Then -he picked up a burnt match, held it down to the grate, and lighted the -gas with that.” Hal-loran smiled a far-away smile. “Aren't some of his -steamers up at Pewaukoe now?” - -The question was asked in the same careless voice, and it took the -Captain a moment to realize that the subject had been changed. Then he -answered with a puzzled expression: - -“Yes; the G. H. Bigelow should have come in there two or three days ago. -The other boats are at Chicago or up on Lake Superior.” - -“Big boat, isn't it?” - -“Yes.” - -“Got a good crew for her?” - -The Captain, all at sea, could think of nothing but an affirmative to -this. - -“What's the Captain's name?” - -“Carpenter.” - -“Who's the engineer?” - -“Robbie MacGregor.” - -“Good man?” - -“Robbie? Certainly. None better.” - -Halloran slid down off the post and looked at his watch. - -“Old G. Hyde is getting up just about now. He's a great hand at early -rising--preaches a good deal about it--likes to say that if he hadn't -been brought up on a good old gentleman known as B. Franklin he'd never -be where he is now. Well, maybe he wouldn't.” - -The Captain's temper was hanging on the edge of an explosion, but -Halloran went on. - -“There's nothing to be done here now. Try to keep everything ready--if -you can pick up a man to fire up, I should--and we'll probably get off -this afternoon sometime.” And he strolled off, leaving the Captain to -stare after him and give vent to the first rumblings of a storm. - -Halloran, in his old clothes and faded purple sweater and college -cap, was headed for the railroad station. At the station he took the -Pewaukoe train; at Pewaukoe he walked down to the mills, fairly -certain that none of Bigelow's men there would recognize him. The _G. H. -Bigelow_ lay at the wharf, as Craig had said. She was taking on a cargo. - -The mills were on the low ground by the river. From the road he could -overlook them and the great piles of lumber that crowded close to the -water's edge for hundreds of yards up and down stream, and he leaned on -the fence to take it in. As far up as he could see the river was blocked -with logs. The mills were singing and buzzing and humming--it was plain -that the Bigelow vitalizing process had begun, and that all hands -were being crowded on the work in order to sell lumber at a loss to -Higginson's customers. He thought he would walk down through the yards -toward the steamer. - -As the unknown man, wearing a purple sweater and somewhat in need of -a shave, walked past the shore end of the nearer mill, the eyes of the -Superintendent fell upon him. A moment later the two met. - -“How are you?” said the Superintendent, suspicious but civil. - -“First rate. How are you?” - -“Want to see any one?” - -“No; just looking around.” - -“Where were you going?” asked the Superintendent, trying to veil his -suspicions. - -“Nowhere especially. I didn't suppose they'd be any objection if I -watched 'em loading the steamer.” - -“No--certainly not.” This reluctantly. - -“Got a great lot of lumber here, haven't you?” Halloran was looking, as -he spoke, at a long pile that extended to a point within fifty feet of -the mill. - -“Yes; working nights right along--with all the men I can get. That -pile doesn't stay here; but we're so crowded I had to leave it over -night--just until I get the Bigelow loaded up. I'm going to put on a -big force this afternoon and carry it all down to the wharf. Some days -lately we've been so crowded I really haven't known how I was going to -get things done.” - -Slowly it was dawning on Halloran that he was suspected of being--not -the manager for Higgin-son & Company--but a lynx-eyed insurance -inspector, out running down violations of the clear-space clause. -This wouldn't do. It was not on his books to be drawn into an extended -conversation with Bigelow's superintendent. He would have to fall back -on lying if this were to keep up much longer. - -“Say,” he observed, “what was that fellow doing down in the water, -hopping around on the logs with a long pole?” - -The Superintendent was beginning to lose interest. - -“He picks out logs of the right sizes.” - -“You don't mean to say he can tell just by looking at a log in the water -what size it will cut to?” A curt nod was the only reply. - -“Isn't it remarkable how a man can get trained to things? Now if I were -to try a thing like that------” - -But the Superintendent had fled. - -Halloran walked slowly on to the wharf, and stood watching the gangs -that were carrying the heavy sticks over the rail of the steamer. Two -steam hoists were clanking and rattling as the booms swung back and -forth. Bosses were shouting and swearing--everywhere was confusion, but -confusion that moved steadily onward toward the loading of the steamer. -Halloran dodged around the labourers and walked along the wharf until -he was opposite the engine-room door. Within was a fat man in overalls -tinkering over the machinery. Halloran climbed up to the deck and stood -in the doorway. - -“How are you?” he observed. “Nice day!” The engineer nodded. - -“You must be Mr. MacGregor, aren't you?” - -“That's my name.” - -“Mine is Halloran.” - -MacGregor looked up, surprised. - -“Yes, I am with Higginson & Company.” - -MacGregor did not know what to make of this. Halloran, however, went -right on. - -“How do you like working for Bigelow?” And without leaving time to -reply, he added: “Mean old humbug, ain't he?” - -“What do you know about Bigelow?” - -“Used to work for him myself. I had all I wanted of him. He isn't -square. That's what brings me here. We need a good engineer, and Captain -Craig tells me you are the best on the lakes. Is that so?” - -MacGregor's mind had not caught up yet; and Halloran continued: - -“I want to take you back to Wauchung with me. We will raise your salary -five hundred dollars, and engage you for as long a time as you think -right! You know Higginson & Company--and you know we keep our promises. -Then you can tell Bigelow to go to hell if you want to. I know how -Bigelow's men feel.” He looked at his watch. “We can get the 9:53 train -down.” - -“You don't mean to go this morning?” said MacGregor. - -“Yes; right off. You surely have an assistant you can leave in charge of -the engine.” - -The fat man backed up against the opposite door and looked at Halloran. - -“See here,” he said, “what does this mean?” - -“Mean?”--Halloran's anger, that had been rising since six o'clock, began -to boil over--“Mean? It means that Bigelow has come into the lumber -business with the idea of running Higginson out. And if you know -anything about Martin L. Higginson you know that old Bigelow has bitten -off the biggest hunk he ever tried to get his mouth around. It means -that G. Hyde Bigelow's going to get such a hob-nailed roost in the -breeches that he'll be lucky to come down at all. He's going to have the -whole damned zodiac buzzing around in his head before he gets through -with Higginson--that's what it means! I've come up here this morning to -tell you that we want an engineer, and that you're the man we want. And -we want you to go on the 9:53 train--that's about forty minutes now.” - -[Illustration: 0103] - -MacGregor was thinking hard. He knew a little about Bigelow and a good -deal more about Higginson. He liked the phrase, too--what was it--oh, -“the best engineer on the lakes.” - -“Can't you give me a day to think it over, Mr. Halloran?” - -“Sorry, but I'm afraid not. We need you right off.” - -“What did you say your offer was?” - -“What you think is fair. But I'll tell you flatly, we'll pay you -more than Bigelow will--five hundred a year more. You have just about -comfortable time to get up to your house and change your clothes. I'll -meet you at the station.” - -“What if Bigelow should make trouble about my contract?” asked MacGregor -dubiously. - -“Don't you worry a minute about that. We'll back you up to the last -notch.” - -MacGregor thought it over a little longer. Then he turned his ponderous -frame and called to his assistant. - -“All right,” he said over his shoulder to Halloran, “I'll meet you at -the station.” - -At this moment Mr. William H. Babcock was rising from a hotel breakfast -in Grand Rapids and reaching for the toothpicks. As he strolled out to -the office to buy a paper he picked his teeth and smiled softly. - -***** - -Feeling painfully outside of it all--almost inclined to wonder if his -troubles were real, if the mills behind him, the lumber piled on either -side of him, the laden steamer before him were real; if this round -world, even, with its mixture of ups and downs and ins and outs, were -real--Mr. Higginson stood on the wharf at Captain Craig's side. The -steamer's fires had not yet been started and it was now after eleven -o'clock. The engineers had disappeared, and with them the oilers and -stokers; the wheelmen were gone, and the lookouts--nothing left in -Wauchung but a few deckhands. And now, to cap it all, Halloran had -dropped suddenly off the surface of the earth, leaving a certain old -Scotch captain to rumble internally and now and then to burst into -eruption with scorching phrases about boys that ought to be back in the -nursery, about babes that had been prematurely weaned. - -Into this scene of gloom and desolation came Halloran, recognizable -half-way up to the mill by the purple sweater, carrying a bulging canvas -telescope; and following him, somewhat scant of breath, hurried a fat -man with a patent-leather valise. The gloomy ones observed them at the -same moment. Mr. Higginson gave a nervous start, then was swept by a -feeling of relief that almost brought a smile to his face. The Captain -looked--and looked--and--the rumblings ceased. Nothing further was heard -that day about nursing-bottles. - -“Hallo, Robbie,” was all that Craig could bring himself to say when the -fat man had reached the wharf and set down his valise and begun swabbing -his face with a handkerchief that showed signs of use since he had -fallen into Halloran's hands. - -“How are you, Cap'n?” - -Mr. Higginson drew his manager aside. - -“Who is this man?” - -“He is the new engineer.” - -Mr. Higginson's eyes shifted from Halloran to the fat man and back again -two or three times. Then, as time was pressing, he decided to ask no -questions. - -“There is a man up the river that understands firing,” he said. “Crosman -has gone up to get him.” - -“Have we any wheelmen?” - -“Yes, one of Craig's old men is in the mill. When do you plan to start?” - -“Right away--as soon as we can fire up.” - -Mr. Higginson was on the point of suggesting a wait until the next -morning, but he withheld this, too. And so Halloran, who had promised to -deliver the lumber by the morning of the fourteenth, and who would have, -taken the steamer down himself rather than give Bigelow the pleasure of -delaying him fifteen minutes, went on with the work of preparation. - -At three o'clock that afternoon they were off, with one man in the -wheel-house, a quartet of clumsy deckhands in the stoke-hole, a devoutly -profane fat man in the engine-room, and one combined lookout and -deckhand by the name of Halloran--every man of them facing a solid -twelve hours on duty. Never had steamer gone out between the Wauchung -piers in such plight before. If the white-clad Swede in the lookout of -the life-saving station could have seen through the walls of this good -ship _Higginson_, could have known the facts that lay behind this brave -front, he would have wagged his head dubiously and long. - -But the stars were kind on the thirteenth of this month. Captain Craig, -standing on the wheel-house and guiding her out toward deep water, found -himself looking on a flat mirror that blended, miles away, into the blue -sky. Streaked with wide reaches of green and purple and corn-colour was -Lake Michigan to-day--wearing her gladdest dress over a calm heart. -And Halloran and the Captain, both of whom knew her temper, who had -met once, indeed, when she was angriest, near Evanston a few years -earlier--recognized themselves for very lucky men. - -And so the old _Higginson No. 1_ headed southward, and plowed -deliberately down past Point Sable, and heaved out a long line of black -smoke just as if she had been a real full-handed steamer with real -firemen throwing coal into the greedy furnaces. There was even some -enthusiasm aboard; not one even of the stokers but knew dimly that they -were fighting. They even felt, the younger ones, like men marching into -battle, and when the _Higginson_ was fairly out on the lake and swinging -around on her course, one amateur fireman of the watch below ran down -the ladder to pass the good news to his less fortunate brethren on duty. -And if the heat of the work had been less trying, these grimy fellows, -stripped to the drawers and covered with sweat and coal, might even have -given three cheers. - -They ran down slowly, of course. It was getting on toward daylight when -the _Higginson_ steamed into the harbour at Michigan City and tied up at -the wharf of the lumber company, and it was a heartily exhausted set -of men that rolled into their bunks to snatch a wink before day should -come, bringing more work with it. - -At eight o'clock Halloran walked over to the Company's office and -inquired for the manager. - -“I'm Halloran,” he said, “of Higginson & Company. How soon can you begin -unloading?” - -“Right away,” replied the manager civilly, but with an odd expression. -“I'm just sending some men down.” His surprise was so great that it had -to find some expression. He seemed to be thinking it over as he left his -desk to go to the wharf. Finally, with an effort at an off-hand manner, -he added, “You're prompt on time.” - -“Sure,” replied Halloran. “Why not?” - - - - -CHAPTER V--A Venture in Matrimony - -It was Saturday night on the North Side, and shortly after six o'clock. -That part of the world that centres in North Clark Street between -Lincoln Park and the Bridge was already beginning to stir and stretch -and shake off the dust of the day; was swarming in from scores of -cross streets, to parade before the show-windows and pour into the -beer-gardens and restaurants, to crowd at the corners--a motley company -of washed and unwashed; of labourers and shopgirls hurrying home, and of -more fortunate ones, old and young, sauntering from home, to get out of -life what North Clark Street had to offer. - -Strains of dance music floated out over board fences that were gaudy -with posters, out over evergreen hedges that thrived in green tubs. -All the world was gay to-night; all the world was in the mood to sit at -white tables under the trees and dine on the best of German fare, to -tip back and listen to German music from German orchestras, to toss the -waiter half a dollar; life was gay, life was jolly; all was well with -the world. No half-lights here, no miserly crouching in shadows, no -gloomy ones to spoil it all; nothing but froth on the glass, a laugh on -the lip, and here's looking at you! - -But think again. Of all these houses of amusement was there not one -standing empty--was there not one where gloom reigned? Glance along the -street, pass the policeman on the corner--the fat policeman, for whose -sake we will hope all thieves are slow of foot--down past other corners -and other fat policemen, down almost to the river, so near that the -smell of the water poisons the air. Was there not a dingy little -playhouse, overwhelmed by the soot and grime of the city, by the noise -of the trains that seemed to be rushing into the building with bells -ringing and every steam-valve open--overwhelmed, too, by the rattle and -struggle of the street, and the large buildings that crowded so close on -each side that they threatened to come together with a snap and leave no -trace of the dingy little structure with its _porte cochere_ front. If -there was, anywhere in this big city, a building that spoke of failure, -of pitiful inadequacy for any metropolitan purpose, of aimlessness and -inevitable wreckage, here it stood, bearing the hesitating announcement -that within might be found Somebody's Original Oriental Burlesquers and -Refined Vaudeville. - -Not long after six o'clock was it, and the lingering remnants of a -very thin audience were rapidly escaping before the onslaught of the -“chasers.” The particular chaser that held the stage at the moment was a -tall, thin young man, rather nimble as to the legs, who was exercising -a sound pair of lungs on a song, a tender memory of a certain Bridget -O'Grady, who, he vowed, was a perfect lady. The fiddles squeaked and -rasped, the piano tinkled, the bass viol rumbled in loudest of all; and -the audience grew thinner and thinner--narrowed down, in fact, to a few -questionable individuals who had, one feared, no better place to go. -After the song there was a dance in which the nimble legs appeared to -some advantage. And if we had been tucked away in a corner of that -dirty stage, behind the wings that were slit and frayed from years -of service--if we had watched the Irish vocalist when he came off and -readjusted his carroty wig, we could not have failed to recognize in the -possessor of the nimble legs and the sound lungs our old friend Apples. - -Somewhere in the course of his career Apples had dropped a stitch; for -the goal of all true Thespians, the myriad-minded Shakespeare, was -still only a waking dream for Apples, was still no more than a twinkling -constellation that shone and shone in the far heavens, serenely -unconscious that one Appleton Le Duc was striving upward. But was it -not an encouragement to recall the inspiriting words of the professor -of elocution, that Shakespeare himself had been a country boy; that -he, too, had gone to the city to seek his fortune; that he, too, had -stumbled and struggled, and climbed and climbed until he had reached the -highest pinnacle of fame? - -Something was certainly on the mind of the rising actor -to-night--something that elevated him above the dingy hall and the -sleepy audience. Pausing only to mop his brow, back he went in response -to his encore--the encore that was mentioned in his contract--as -cheerfully as if the audience had really given him a hand; and the -sound lungs burst out again, to another scraping, tinkling, rumbling -accompaniment; and the voice of Apples rose high in the praise of 'Mary, -my fairy, the Maid of Ochlone,' whose heart-dum-de-dumdy-dum-surely-my-own. -The sight of a newspaper spread wide before the face of the only -occupant of an orchestra seat could not disturb Apples this evening; -the glimpse of two newsboys in the gallery, aiming with peanuts at the -bald head behind the newspaper, could not so much as ruffle him; for -golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy, dee-iddle-dee-airy, ta -raddle-my-own. Very blithe was Apples, strangely blithe for an underpaid -chaser in the most despondent theatre on the North Side. - -There was another little scene taking place at this time in which we are -interested. In the lodging of Mrs. Craig--not two rooms now, but one, -with a decrepit cook-stove in one corner and a ragged quilt hung across -another corner to serve as a partition between George's bedroom and the -rest of the space--a silent woman was cooking a meager supper. A very -silent woman was Mrs. Craig at this time, even more so than formerly. -The room was hot and close with the odour of cooking. - -Into this home, at a little before six, came Lizzie Bigelow, grown -rather more mature in appearance since we last saw her, of a rounder -figure and a brighter colour. She was in good spirits to-night. By some -miracle she was as fresh and healthy as if she had been given nothing -but the best of food, the purest air and plenty of time for exercise; -and to the mother it seemed as if a whiff of fresh air had come with her -into the room. - -“Well, Lizzie, you are back early.” - -“Yes; I got off at half-past five. Where is George?” - -“He has to work late to-night.” - -“Oh, yes; I forgot. You are tired, ma. You sit down awhile and let me -finish the supper.” She was throwing aside her hat and jacket as she -spoke, and she smiled at her mother in a way that brought an expression -of gratefulness and surprise to the face of the older woman. “Now you -just sit down awhile. I'm going to get supper ready to-night.” - -It appeared that she really meant it; and the mother, after a little -protesting, made way for her by the stove. Indeed, it promised to be -quite a jolly evening, if only George could get home in time to share -it. Even without him, what with a merry recital of the funny things that -had happened at the office during the day, and with other talk of an -equally unusual good humour, Mrs. Craig was almost bewildered. She knew -only too well how unexpectedly Lizzie's high spirits could turn corners, -how petulant this merry, black-eyed girl could be. - -After supper, announcing that she was going to get a breath of fresh -air, Lizzie went out, first ingeniously smuggling a small package -outside the door under pretense of opening it for air. Next she put on -her hat and jacket and stood for a moment smiling; finally she bent over -her mother and kissed her, an act so surprising that Mrs. Craig flushed -with pleasure. Then, with a nervous little laugh and a fling of her -skirts, she had whisked out and the door was closed. There was a pause -at the top of the stairs while she fumbled in her pocket for a folded -slip of paper which she tucked silently into the crack of the door; -but at last she was off, running down the stairs with her bundle held -tightly under her jacket, and hurrying across the street to avoid -meeting George in case he should be returning home at this hour. - -***** - -The encore was over and Apples was hurrying, wig in hand, to the -dressing-room. There he threw off his costume, dressed for the street, -packed all his “properties” hastily in an old valise, and went out at -the stage-door. The doorkeeper nodded to him. - -“You're off now, are you?” - -“Yes; I'm through here.” - -“Got your pay?” - -“Some of it.” - -“You're lucky.” - -“Guess I am. Good-night.” - -“Good-night.” - -Apples, still hurrying, still wanting breath, turned the corner, paused, -looked up the street and down, seemed disappointed and irresolute, and -finally turned his valise on end and sat on it. From where he sat in -the shadow of a dark building he could see the flow of life along North -Clark Street, and he watched it nervously. He seemed somewhat oppressed -by the rush and whirl of things, as if in mid-course of a tempestuous -career he had paused to think. The soot-laden air was portentous -to-night; the rattle and rumble of the street, the guffaws from the -actors' saloon at his elbow, the roar and hurry of it all, bore heavily -on his spirits as he sat waiting there. For Apples was on the brink -of something--something new and strange. Before him lay an unexplored -country, and who could say if it should prove a land of roses or a -black abyss. For better or worse it was to be, a plunge into the -future, vastly unlike certain other plunges that he had been forced to -take--alone. Circumstances had swept him on; the offer had come, bearing -the guarantee that at last his name should appear on all posters in -letters not shorter than three and one-half inches; the other one, whose -face and voice had helped to make it all possible, was willing, with a -fluttering heart, to keep her promise; the small boy with the wizened -face, whose thin legs were to help make their joint fortunes, had jumped -at the chance; and here he was on the brink. Henceforth the three Le -Ducs, three, were to be a feature in the theatrical world. And the black -sky, bearing oppressively down like an emblem of great grim Chicago, was -portentous indeed. - -At last a woman, with a small package under her jacket, slipped out from -the crowd and came hesitatingly down the side street. Apples rose. - -“Hello,” he said. - -“Hello.” - -“Got everything?” - -“Yes; where's Jimmie?” - -“He's waiting at the pier.” - -And so, without speaking further, these two young persons, who were -about to take the plunge hand in hand, set out together toward the east. -A block farther on she said, with a show of petulance, “Have we got to -take Jimmie along?” - - -[Illustration: 0051] - -“Yes, we'd have to come back here if we didn't. We've got to join the -company Monday night, you know, at South Bend.” - -They crossed over the Rush Street bridge and took the early steamer -for St. Joseph. From now on they should have no difficulty. There was a -reverend person in St. Joseph who was always glad to marry foolish young -men and foolish young girls, for a consideration. And this reverend one, -in the evening's rest after a day given to guiding his flock heavenward, -could surely find a few moments in which to make these two one. They -could be sure of finding discretion here, sure that no awkward questions -would be asked, that no permission from unreasonable parents would be -hinted at; sure, in brief, that the good divine would be entirely at -their service, would wish them Godspeed on the up-road or the down-road -or any conceivable road--for a consideration. - - - - -CHAPTER VI--A Shut-down - -The weeks went spinning by. Both sides were losing so heavily that the -fight was becoming grim. On the one hand, Bigelow, with his unreasonable -directors to keep in line, was closing in relentlessly on the Wauchung -interests; on the other hand, Higginson & Company were holding on with -an endurance that puzzled Mr. Bigelow. - -And it was at this time, when affairs were leaping along toward a -crisis, that Doctor Brown of Wauchung took a hand by ordering Mr. -Higginson to bed. Nothing but a complete rest could save him from a -breakdown, said the Doctor--news which brought Mrs. Higginson down -with nervous exhaustion, which set Mamie's wits a-fluttering, which -complicated matters somewhat for Halloran. The longer Halloran studied -the business, the longer he pored over statements of profits and -statements of losses that could not be brought together, the plainer -became the facts.. Ideas were floating in his head, ideas so nearly what -he wanted that he knew it would be only a question of time before he -could catch one or the other of them and bring it down into the world -of reality--ideas that were later to be brought to bear, perhaps, on -Bigelow and his combination; but meanwhile his course was clear. The -logical next step was to shut down the mills. - -He dared not think of all the details in connection with such a step, -of what it would mean to Mr. Higginson, to the hundreds of men who had -grown up in the work, or to what few other business interests there were -in Wauchung; the mere consideration of the moral issue involved led into -such a maze of pros and cons that he resolutely set it aside and kept -his mind fixed on the business facts. If this step were not taken, -the heavy expense of maintenance would swamp Higginson & Company and -everybody connected with them so deep that all the king's horses could -not drag them out; by shutting down, on the other hand, he could prolong -the fight. The trust would be free to continue selling at a loss; but -Higginson & Company would be enabled to leave their timber growing in -the forest until prices should reach normal again. - -As Mr. Higginson's whole fortune was in the business, his income was now -next to nothing; but Halloran believed he could hold out six months or -so longer. On the other hand, he did not think Bigelow could last so -long at the head of a losing venture. Indeed, if for one moment of those -tense days he had lost his belief that Bigelow could be beaten, Halloran -would have dropped out of this story on this page. - -One evening Doctor Brown received a call from the Manager. - -“Now, Doctor,” said Halloran, when they were seated in the office, “what -can you tell me about Mr. Higginson? Is he better?” - -The physician shook his head. “No--no better.” - -“You consider his case serious?” - -“Yes,”--gravely--“it is serious.” - -“I will tell you, Doctor--for you must understand it before you -can answer me--that the business is in a situation that demands his -attention if he is able to give it--even for five minutes.” - -Doctor Brown shook his head again. - -“Could I not lay a decision before him, Doctor, if I make it as clear -and simple as possible?” - -“No; a decision would be the last thing to bother him with.” - -Halloran sat thinking. This was difficult--very difficult, indeed. -Shutting down another man's mills without his knowledge was not the sort -of thing he liked to do. The physician spoke again: - -“His mind _must_ have a rest, Mr. Halloran; that is the only way we can -save him.” - -This was final, and Halloran went out to return to his room and pore -again over accounts and statements, to think again of Bigelow, to grope -again for those ideas that seemed so nearly what he wanted. For another -week he watched the expense account mounting up; then one day he sent -for Crosman to come to his office. - -“Mr. Crosman,” he said, “the mills will shut down Saturday night. Will -you please see that the men are notified?” - -Crosman looked at Halloran for a moment to make sure that he understood; -then with a puzzled expression he left the room. Later in the day he met -Halloran in the yard. - -“Am I------ Do you want me to leave Saturday?” he asked, his voice full -of emotion. - -“No,” the Manager replied shortly, “you stay; I want you.” - -That evening Halloran was at work in his room when Crosman came in. - -“I just happened around at Higginson's,” he said, evidently somewhat -embarrassed, “and Mamie said that her father wants to see you.” - -“When--now?” - -“Yes, I believe so.” - -Halloran pushed aside his work with a thoughtful face. Presently he -said: - -“If you are going back that way, I'll walk along with you.” - -The door was opened by Mamie herself. - -“Oh, Mr. Halloran,” she cried, “I don't know what to say. Father isn't -well at all--he's so nervous and excitable. Doctor Brown told me this -morning not to let him see you at all, but he says he must see you--he -made me send Harry as soon as he got here. I haven't known what to do.” - -Halloran heard her through, then he went directly up-stairs. Mr. -Higginson's room was dimly lighted, and it was a moment before his eyes -could distinguish clearly; but when he finally made out the thin figure -propped up on the bed he was shocked at the change the sickness had -wrought. - -“Sit down,” Mr. Higginson was saying. “Tell me what this means.” His -voice was tremulous with feeling. “What is this they have been telling -me about closing the mills?” - -“It is true. I have arranged to shut down Saturday night.” - -“True, is it?” The lean old figure stirred on its pillows; the thin -fingers closed tightly on a fold of the bedclothes. “Do you know what -you are saying, man?” - -“We can't afford to pay men for doing nothing, Mr. Higginson.” - -“Do you realize what this means?” The old man raised himself on his -elbow; he found it difficult to control his voice. “Do you know that I -brought those men here, that I have supported some of them for thirty -years? Do you think they can be cast off to starve? Why didn't you come -to me with this? What do you mean by settling it out of hand?” - -“I haven't been allowed to see you.” - -“Not been allowed! Is this a conspiracy? There's some meaning to this, -Halloran. I insist upon knowing it. Do you mean that I have got to the -end? Have we lost?” The last few words were spoken with a sudden return -to calmness; but his eyes were shining. - -“No, not at all. I think we shall win.” - -“You think!--for God's sake, Halloran, speak out and have it over with. -What's the matter--what has happened?” - -Halloran came over and sat on the edge of the bed where he could talk in -a quiet voice; “We have not lost, Mr. Higginson, and what's more, we -aren't going to lose. Bigelow's people have got to keep on selling below -cost until something happens. We certainly couldn't go on running full- -handed without a cent of income. By shutting down we can hold out longer -than they can. It's hard on the men, but it is hard on the rest of us, -too. It's the only way we can meet them.” - -Even a sick man could see the soundness of this. And somehow the -presence of his manager, with his air of health and confidence, went -a long ways toward restoring, for the moment, the balance of Mr. -Higginson's mind. He fell back on the pillows, unstrung after his -excitement, but somewhat relieved. - -Halloran said good-night and went downstairs. Mamie heard his step and, -leaving Crosman in the sitting-room, she met him in the hall. - -“I meant to tell you not to come down yet,” she said with lowered eyes. -“Ma said that she wanted to see you when you came in. I'll go ahead if -you don't mind.” - -He followed her to another upstairs room, where he found Mrs. Higginson -on a couch, dressed in the daintiest of lace-trimmed dressing-sacks. She -looked up when he entered and motioned wearily to a chair. - -“It is kind of you to come,” she said. “Mamie, dear, won't you get me my -heavy shawl?” - -Mamie, understanding, left the room and did not hurry back. - -“I want to talk with you about our dear girl,” began Mrs. Higginson. -“Of course, if the worst should happen--you understand-------” Here her -emotion overcame her for a moment. “You can understand what a shock it -has been to me. Mr. H. had not told me of the trouble, and the news that -he had failed came like a thunderbolt. I don't mind for myself--but -if anything should happen--if the worst--I could go so much--so much -easier--if I knew that Mamie was provided for. You will be good to her, -John? You will forgive me for calling you John? It is the way -Mr. H. always spoke of you at home------” She was obliged to pause -again. “I am afraid he will never c--call you John again.” - -Her handkerchief went up to her eyes; and Halloran sat back and looked -hard at a picture of the first Higginson mill, in oils, that hung over -the mantel. - -“I suppose we shall have to sell the house,” she went on, rallying. “You -will know best about that, John. I am sure you will act for the best, -and save what you can for our little girl. You will be good to her--I -am sure you will. She has learned to admire you very much. And when we -are--when we are no longer--and the house is gone----” - -“Nothing of that sort will be necessary,” broke in Halloran, glad to -relieve her mind and the gloom at the same time. “The house needn't -be sold. I think we shall have the mills running again before so very -long.” - -He saw, as he spoke, that his words struck a discordant note. She looked -at him incredulously. - -“It isn't so bad as it sounds--------” He meant to make it better, but, -failing, stopped. - -“Do you mean that we have been given this shock for nothing?” she asked, -with returning strength. - -The only way out was retreat. He rose, saying, “I hope to have good news -for you soon,” and bowed a good-night. - -He found Mamie sitting on the stairs in the dark with the shawl across -her lap. She got up with a little sob and stood back against the rail -for him to pass. - -“Cheer up, Miss Higginson,” he said in a low voice, “It isn't a failure -at all. We are getting on as well as we could expect.” - -She put both hands on the railing to steady herself and looked up at him -in amazement. - -“You don't mean that!” she whispered, “what you said?” - -He nodded. “You needn't bother about it at all. Everything is all -right.” - -She Still doubted. “But the mills?” - -“The mills will be running soon.” - -“Oh, really?” she said, almost wonderingly. “Really?” - -The sobs were coming again. She caught his hand in both of hers and held -it tightly. “Then there isn't any failure--and you are going to save our -home for us?” - -This was frying-pan to fire. Halloran answered hastily: - -“It won't be necessary to save it. We shall be all right again soon.” - -His matter-of-fact tone brought her to herself. She released his hand -and, suddenly plunged into confusion, hurried upstairs. - -On his way out Halloran paused in the hall. Through the wide doorway -he could see Crosman, out in the sitting-room, striding around with his -hands in his pockets. - -“Good-night, Crosman,” he ventured. - -But the other would not hear him; and Halloran, feeling as if he had -been put through a wringer, went out. - - - - -CHAPTER VII--Halloran Goes to Chicago - -The next morning--it chanced to be a Friday--Crosman came over to -Halloran's desk. - -“Have you a couple of minutes?” he asked. - -“Surely. More than I want. Sit down.” - -Crosman did not take the offered chair, but leaned on the desk. - -“Miss Higginson spoke to me last night,” he said, with visible effort, -“about the family expenses. She thinks they ought to reduce them all -around, but you, she says, are the only one that knows about it. I -suggested that she talk it over with you herself; but she didn't want -to, for some reason.” - -Halloran swung back in his chair. - -“I don't know how well you understand this business, Crosman. It simply -amounts to this: The combine people are selling lumber below cost to -run us out of business, and we have shut down to let them go ahead until -they're sick of it. When the price rises we'll start up again. Of course -all this makes a big difference in Mr. Higginson's income. I suppose -there's no use trying to make that plain to women, but if you can do -anything to clear the air you'd better go talk to them. Anyhow, don't -let them make any difference in their living. We mustn't do anything -that will scare people; the Higginson credit is good, and it's our -business to keep it good.” - -He meditated a moment and then looked up and said abruptly: - -“Look here, Crosman, you can do me a favour if you want to. Mr. -Higginson's sickness seems to have left me in charge of his family -finances. Now suppose you take the whole business off my hands. You know -both Mrs. Higginson and Miss Higginson better than I do; and I think it -would be a good deal easier for them to talk things over with you than -with me. You can let me know if anything special comes up and I'll help -you work it out. How does that strike you?” - -“All right,” he managed finally to get out. “I'll try it.” - -“I don't believe this giving away lumber can last much longer,” said -Halloran. - -Something about those phrases that had been floating in Halloran's mind -for weeks, “giving away lumber,” “selling at a loss,” “selling to our -customers,” stuck in his thoughts now. He sat there, leaning back in his -swivel-chair gazing at the rows of pigeon-holes--Crosman still leaning -on the desk--while his mind sailed off to Pewaukoe; he saw again the -great yards of the Bigelow Company crowded full of lumber--the mills -droning ceaselessly, the scores of men swarming over the work, the -steamer hurrying the cargo--and he thought again “all this is to be sold -below cost to our customers.” - -Then Halloran's chair came down with a bang and his open hand slapped -the desk. He had got it. The idea that had evaded him all these weeks -was finally run to cover, was bagged securely. And the simplicity of it -all, the feeling of utter imbecility in having failed to see it before, -left him limp. But he recovered. - -“Crosman,” he said, “I'm going to Chicago to-night and may not get back -before the first of the week. You look out for things here, will you?” - -The assistant was growing hardened to surprises. He merely nodded now, -with a curious expression. - -Halloran had got it. And for a moment he could only say to himself, -over and over: “What a fool! What a fool!” He could only think of that -tremendous output of lumber thrown on the market for a song. “Selling to -our customers, eh,” he thought; “selling to our customers!” - -“Crosman,” he said, when he felt that he was on his legs again, “we're -going to buy lumber.” - -Crosman did not grasp it at first. - -“We're going to buy lumber--all we can get,” Halloran repeated; “and I'm -going down to get the money.” - -It was sinking into Crosman's head--slowly he was gripping it, this idea -of Halloran's. Higgin-son & Company were going to buy lumber, were going -to buy it below cost--great quantities of it--to buy it secretly, in -many places, under many names, at half the normal price; they would sell -it later at or above normal. Then at last Crosman looked at Halloran and -grinned--broadly, happily. And Halloran said to himself again: “What a -fool! _Oh_, what a fool!” - -There was much to be done that day. Crosman must have full instructions -for prompt action; the moment Halloran's message should come up from -Chicago he must cross the lake to Milwaukee, and from there command the -Wisconsin shore. Halloran himself would set the Chicago end of the line -in motion. Scattered here and there around the lake were men who had -occasionally handled business for Higginson & Company. These were to -be retained, wherever possible, and set to buying in Trust lumber. -Everything must be done secretly; every opportunity must be seized. -There would be storage to arrange for in a dozen cities, and insurance; -there were a score and odd contingencies to be foreseen and provided -against, a maximum price to be agreed on for each necessary step. But -the figuring and the talking had an end; and when Halloran finally -jumped on the night train and was rolled off toward Chicago he felt that -Bigelow's flank was as good as turned. - -There was one bank in Chicago with which Mr. Higginson had been doing -business for twenty years. Thither Halloran went, shook hands with the -cashier and laid bare the situation. The cashier already knew a good -deal about the fight, and was interested to fill up the gaps in his -information. - -“What is it you plan to do, Mr. Halloran?” he asked when they had talked -over the situation. - -“We are going to buy lumber.” - -The cashier inclined his head to show that he understood perfectly. - -“We can buy it now for one or two dollars less than it costs us to get -it out of our own woods,” Halloran added. - -This interested the cashier very much indeed. Higginson & Company were -good, all the way through; and their manager seemed to have a keen -business sense. Mr. Higginson's sickness entered his calculations; but -still the investment was sound. The amount must be discussed and one or -two details mentioned. But it was after a very few minutes of talk that -the cashier said: - -“We shall be very glad to let you have the money, Mr. Halloran.” - -The arrangements were soon made. Then Hal-loran said good-morning and -went down to the telegraph office in the basement of the building. And -as this short message hummed over the wires to Crosman, “_Go ahead. -Halloran_,” he walked out into the street to begin the battle. All -idleness was over now for Halloran--all merely defensive work, all -waiting for results. From now on it was to be straight-out fighting; and -he knew that the best man would win. - -Before that Saturday afternoon was far advanced Halloran's agents were -at work. Their instructions were simple. “Buy all the one-inch and -two-inch stuff you can get, pine and hemlock, in regular lengths and -widths,” was what he had said, in starting them out; and before evening -orders had been placed in Chicago alone for nearly a million feet. The -work would be pushed still further on Monday and Tuesday. Every company -in the “combine” would be given an opportunity to sell heavily. - -Farther up Lake Michigan Crosman was working with equal energy. It was -a chance for Crosman, an opportunity to show his metal, and he realized -it. There had been some pulling at odds in the office, and the assistant -had perhaps been inclined to misunderstand Halloran in more ways than -one; but all that was now swept away, and the enthusiasm of vigorous -work was in him. - -For the first time since the fight began he fully understood it; he -had been made to see that there was a possibility of winning. And when -Halloran's message reached him that morning and he realized that no -regular steamer would cross the lake before evening, he hurried a tug -into commission, and with Captain Craig and MacGregor to get him over he -made the passage to Milwaukee in less than seven hours. Late as it -was when he arrived, he not only organized the work for Monday, but -succeeded in placing the first few orders. - -And so it fell out that the reduction in price, made solely to ruin -Higginson, was suddenly and unexpectedly turned to his advantage. The -busy companies that were scattered about the northern shores of the -lake did not know this yet--did not dream that they were crowding extra -shifts of men into their mills to help out Higginson, that the logs -floating down a score of rivers in both peninsulas were to be cut for -Higginson, that the steamers loading at a score of wharves were running -for Higginson, that the long list of lake towns from which had arisen -the heavy demand for lumber were buying for Higginson. They did not know -these things, and Halloran did not mean that they should know them. - -Perhaps it was the knowledge of all this, and the natural elation after -such a day's work, that between them took Halloran's actions out of his -own hands that Saturday evening. There were times when he was likely to -surprise himself; this seemed to be one of them. During these past -three years he had been in Chicago a number of times, but always only to -transact his business and go directly back to Wauchung, always heeding -that stubborn quality somewhere within him that had had so much to do -with pulling him up from nothing and pushing him on in the world, that -had kept him out of foolishness on at least one important occasion. -He had managed, until now, to side with the stubborn quality against a -certain impulse that had occasionally given him trouble, but to-night -the impulse caught him off his guard. There were a good many things he -might have done--there were even one or two details of the fight still -to be studied out--but the impulse, once securely planted in authority, -swept aside every other thought. And so, after dinner, Halloran caught a -train for Evanston. - -An odd feeling took possession of him when he found himself once more, -after three years, on the scene of his struggles. It did not seem -so long ago. That he had greatly changed he knew; since the days of -furnace-tending, and study, and work as a surfman, and all the other -interests that had crowded those earlier years, he had thrown himself -out into the world. He had come to know something of the joy of -directing men and events, of playing a positive part in the life about -him. He had come to love the fighting, to love the play of fact upon -fact and mind upon mind. During the last year he had begun to understand -the feeling of the trained swimmer when he plunges into deep water. -There was the exhilaration, not only of keeping afloat where weak men -sink, but of laying a course and following it, sure of his strength -and endurance. While this change was taking place in him he had been -inclined to forget that these three years were, after all, but a ninth -or tenth part of his life so far, and that the other nine-tenths were -also a fact. But to-night, as he walked up toward the Ridge where the -big houses stood, he felt that he was taking up his old life where -he had laid it down that day when he took the boat for Wauchung. And -somehow he was not so sure of himself as he had been when he said -good-morning to the cashier. - -He was almost relieved to find that Miss Davies and her mother had -stepped across the way. They would be back soon, he was told; so he went -in, left his hat and coat in the hall, and walked in through the parlour -to the long sitting-room, where there were rows upon rows of books and -a round-edged table covered with other books and with magazines, and -a great fireplace with a wood fire burning to take the edge off the -evening air. - -He sat down in the Morris chair by the table and picked up a book--he -had not had time to read much of late years. But after a moment of -turning the pages the book was lowered to his knees and his eyes looked -over it at the fire. There had been a time when he had laid that fire -regularly every morning, and now to be sitting here, suddenly conscious -that his life had taken a new direction, that he was older, and that -his clothes were better--that he was, in fact, another person -altogether--was odd and haunting, was almost disconcerting. - -He heard the front door open. There was a rustle out in the hall, and -voices. He let his head fall against the back of his chair and turned -his face toward the parlour door. He hardly knew what to make of -himself; he was almost afraid he had emotions. Certainly a peculiar -disturbance was going on somewhere within him, such a disturbance as -hardly could be looked for within the manager of a lumber company. He -did not like it at all. He wondered why she was so long about coming -in. Perhaps she would go on upstairs, not knowing he was there; and that -would be awkward. Altogether, it was probably a good thing that -Halloran had come out to Evanston before the new life had succeeded in -withdrawing him finally from the old, before the proportion of one-tenth -to nine-tenths had been evened up and he had wholly changed into -Michigan lumber--a very good thing indeed. - -She came in through the hall doorway and paused surprised. He felt -himself rising and standing with his back to the table and the light. -She came slowly forward, inclining her head a little to get the light -out of her eyes so that she could see his face. The disturbance, now -increasing in that strange new part of him, out of all proportion to the -occasion, called his attention to her reserve, to the something--was it -pride?--that had disturbed him in other days; it taunted him with her -firm carriage, her fine, thoughtful face; it reminded him of her real -superiority, the superiority that comes only from pride in right living; -and so Halloran, the vigorous, the elated, at the moment of greeting an -old friend in her own house, was so far from equal to the situation that -for the life of him he could think of nothing but certain raw facts in -his own bringing-up, or fighting-up, whichever it might be called. And -not a word did he say--simply waited. - -[Illustration: 0139] - -She came a few steps nearer and hesitated. Then, after an instant, her -whole expression changed. Her eyes lighted up with gladness so real -that even he could not misread it; and she came rapidly forward with -outstretched hand. - -“Why, John Halloran,” she cried; “where did you come from?” - - - - -CHAPTER VIII--The Question - -He took her hand, and their eyes met. Until now it had not occurred to -him that she, too, had changed. Her expression even was different; three -years earlier she had been living earnestly, intensely--she had felt -the unequal burdens of the world and had plunged fearlessly into vast -problems, but now she seemed more impersonal, more detached. - -“Sit down,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I will speak to mother.” - -There were more greetings to be gone through. They sat about the fire -for awhile; and Halloran had to give an account of himself, and had to -listen to Mrs. Davies's open approval of him. She had heard of him now -and then; she had known from the first that he would get on; she was -downright proud of him, in fact. This was something of an ordeal, and he -felt relieved when she withdrew and left Margaret with him. - - -The two stood for a moment looking into the fire; then she nodded toward -the Morris chair and he dropped into it. She sat down on the other side -of the table and propped up her chin on her two hands. For a moment they -sat looking at each other. Finally they both smiled. - -“Well,” she observed, “we've been growing up, haven't we?” - -So she had remarked it, too. - -“Yes, I guess we have,” he replied. “Rather more than I had thought.” - -“You didn't expect to find me the same girl you left here, did you?” - -Halloran gazed moodily into the fire. - -“I don't know. I couldn't say just what I did expect.” - -“But it's different, anyway, isn't it?” - -He nodded. - -“And now you don't like it because you think we shall have to begin all -over again getting acquainted?” - -He nodded again. Then, looking up, he was assured by her friendly smile. -She slowly shook her head at him. - -“That isn't quite fair,” she went on. “Here I have been staying right at -home and doing the same things all these three years. If I have grown a -little older, I couldn't help it very well. But you have grown to be -a business man with ever so many interests, and I suppose you are very -successful--anyway, you have changed so much I hardly knew you. How long -are you going to be here?” - -“Until Monday or Tuesday.” - -“You must come to dinner to-morrow, then. You'd better come planning to -spend the rest of the day.” - -“Thanks, I will. How is George?” - -Her face grew serious. “He has been giving me a good deal of trouble -lately. I don't know what to make of him. He lost his home, you know--or -maybe you don't. Have you heard the story?” - -“No.” - -“It is a strange one. To begin with, his sister Elizabeth eloped with -Mr. Le Duc.” - -“Not Apples?” - - -[Illustration: 0159] - -“Yes; they were married in St. Joe, and she went on the stage with him. -Jimmie McGinnis is with them, too. They call themselves the three Le -Ducs, I believe. And Mrs. Craig lost her position. The Le Ducs are in -Chicago now, at a cheap theatre, and Mrs. Craig is living with them; -but they refused to take George, too. They seem to grudge her even the -little they do. So George was turned out into the street and got into -bad company, and now he's in jail. I don't think it's as bad as it -sounds. His companions are a good deal older, and Mr. Babcock, who has -been looking after him, says he will undoubtedly be released. I almost -wrote you about it a little while ago.” - -“I wish you had.” - -“Well,” she hesitated, “I didn't know--it has been so long.” She -looked up. “To tell the truth, I didn't know whether you were still -interested.” - -He rose and went over to the mantel. The fire was low and he heaped it -up with the largest sticks in the wood-box; then dropping on one knee he -took up the bellows and had it roaring in a moment. - -“I like a big fire,” he said, over his shoulder. - -She nodded and let her eyes rest on him as he worked over the fire. Yes, -he was a good deal older; his frame had filled out and settled; and in -his manner, too, some of the rough edges had been rubbed down--a fact -she whimsically regretted. She got up now and pushed the big chair -up beside the fire and sat across from him. For a time they said -nothing--he sitting on a stool at one side of the hearth, she in the -chair at the other; he applying the bellows in a moody, desultory way, -she leaning back watching first him and then the leaping flames. Finally -he said, letting the bellows swing between his knees, still keeping his -eyes on the fire: - -“Margaret!” - -She started a little and a quick, almost shy glance shot from her eyes; -but he seemed wholly unconscious that he had never directly called -her by that name before. He swung the bellows slowly to and fro like a -pendulum. - -“What made you think I wouldn't be interested?” - -“Why--I don't know that I meant exactly that------” - -He went on, still without looking up: “Was it anything in what I wrote -before?” - -Yes, there had been some writing before--when he was first at Wauchung, -and she, eager for her little protégé in the city, had kept him informed -of George's progress and had relied on his counsel. And now, as he -brought that correspondence up in his mind, and remembered how it had -bothered him, how he had avoided every personal reference and had made -it easy always for her to stop when she chose, and how she finally had -stopped--when he had these facts before him, he was thankful that the -fire could partly explain his colour. - -“I'm afraid I wasn't a very satisfactory correspondent,” he added, “but -those weren't very satisfactory days. I was sailing pretty close then--I -had some college expenses to pay back, and I was learning the business, -and altogether I didn't see much fun in living. If you have thought of -me since as the same sort of fellow I was then, I don't blame you for -not wanting to write.” - -He looked up at her for a reply; but she only smiled a little and slowly -shook her head. - -And so they talked on, these two, for a long time; they drifted on into -a dreamy, personal mood--into a land where only common interests could -get a footing, where there was no clock--nothing but the red flames, and -the dim rows of books, and the hushed house, and themselves. They forgot -to-night those three years of divergence--forgot that there was one -set of facts centring about the Michigan lumberman and another about -Margaret. To Halloran all of life had slipped away except that dreamy -figure in the Morris chair, with the late red glow of the fire on her -face and on her hair. Her eyes were half closed, and she turned them -toward him now and then without moving her head. A smile hovered on her -face--now on her lips, if he spoke to her--at other times flitting about -her eyes. Her hands lay motionless on the arms of 'the chair. To both of -them it was a rich glad time, so glad that it could best be explained -by silence, tempered only at intervals by low voices; so rich that it -poured its warmth into their very souls and quieted them, and gave them -to know that such high moments are rare, that they must be conserved and -guarded, must be lived through reverently. - -He looked at her shyly at first, with stolen glances, until in some -silent way she gave him her permission; and then he looked long, not -from his eyes alone, but from the new self within him which had risen -almost to equality with that other self of hers. He knew this now--knew -it to be gloriously true; and he felt a defiance of all life, of all -the pressing facts and things that had crowded into his existence, a -defiance, a consciousness of self that thrilled him with its reality. -For the first time in his life he knew that those solid things were not -real. And his soul was awed and humbled. - -And she looked at him--shyly always, yet conscious of what she was too -honest to deny. And the occasional pressure of her sensitive mouth, the -twitch of her eyelid as the light wavered over it, were not needed to -show him that she, too, was wholly given up to the reality--that -her life was gathered up to-night, with his, into one full hour of -happiness. - -Into this Arden came the distant whistle of a locomotive. Her eyes -sought his, and at the expression they found there she shook her head. - -“That is going the other way,” she said softly. - -“I'm sorry”--he looked at his watch--“I have just time for the last -train.” - -He rose and stood a moment looking at the fire. Then he came over and -leaned on the back of the chair and reached down and raised her hand in -his. She almost shivered at his touch, but he held it firmly; and after -a moment, in which the blood seemed to leave her face, her fingers -closed on his and clasped them tightly. - -And then he forgot all about the last train. He knew that the impulse -that he had feared so long had at last mastered him, and he was wildly, -exultantly glad. He slipped down on the broad arm of the chair and held -her hand on his knee, and looked down at her hair; whilst she, still -with that occasional compression of the lips, gazed into the fire. For -her, too, everything had slipped into oblivion--everything but the red, -red glow of the dying fire and the clasp of his hand in hers and the -touch of his other hand on her hair. There was nothing else in the -world for her to-night; and her happiness was so poignant that she -felt herself swept blindly along with him, past all the obstacles of -convention, of small misunderstandings, of outside interests, on up to -heights that had never before during her quiet lifetime even entered her -imagination. At moments her fingers would tighten on his and strange, -happy tears would fill her eyes, to be kept back only by an effort. Once -she could not keep them back; and he looked down and saw them on her -cheek, and she did not care. Tears were trivial, now that her soul was -laid bare to him. - -At another time she spoke so softly that he could not hear, and he bent -down his head. - -“You are not going to try to get back to the city?” she repeated, in a -voice from which all strength, all the body had gone. - -“No--I'm going down to the hotel.” - -Her clasp tightened again by way of reply. - -And so the wild, sweet message came to this man and this young woman. It -told them how deeply those earlier years of friendship had entered -their natures; it let them know how much stronger it was than will or -habit--how it had chained their two lives so firmly together that only a -few moments had been needed to-night to show it plainly to them both. A -look of the eye, a tone in the voice, and it was done. From that moment -their lives had changed; and where-ever the new current might lead them, -whatever might be waiting in the dim, luminous years beyond, the new -fact must control their thoughts. The old days were gone; the new had -begun. - -Was it strange that he should think of this, that the meaning of it all -should flash through his mind; whilst she, with her sensitive nature -wholly bound up in this moment, should be thinking of nothing, should be -conscious of nothing, save that he was here? Was this strange? Her eyes -were still fixed on the embers; she seemed unable to raise them to his. -In all her life she had never before given up. Her impulses had never -before swept her reason from its seat and held her, trembling and -amazed, in their grip. It was new and wonderful to her. - -“Margaret,” he said, in the low voice that expressed the most, “dare I -look at my watch?” She smiled and tightly held his hand. - -“No?” - -She shook her head. - -He caught up a lock of her hair and held it against the light. It -glistened like fine-spun gold. He leaned down and pressed it to his -lips; and again he felt that tightening of her fingers, that slight -shiver passing through her. He bent forward and saw that the tears had -escaped again. “Margaret,” he whispered, “look up.” - -Her eyes lifted a little, then dropped. He waited and then whispered -again, “Look up, dear.” Slowly she raised them until they met his -fairly, and their two souls were gazing straight, each to each. Her -fingers tightened and tightened; she was trembling. And at last he -caught her wildly with both his arms and drew her against him and kissed -her forehead, her eyes, her mouth. And her tears fell without restraint. - -“Dear girl,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, “Dear girl, you -love me--I know you love me. I have waited--it is a long while that I -have waited--but all the waiting is over now. Tell me that it is all -over--that we are going to begin our lives--our life--new again. Tell me -that we are going to be happy.” - -There was a moment during which she struggled to free herself. “Don't, -oh, don't!” she cried brokenly. “Please stop, John!” And he, hurt and -wondering, released her, and stood up, watching her stupidly as she fell -back in the chair and covered her eyes. - -Poor Halloran! He had been supposing that he understood her--that -he really could see a little way into that complex nature. And the -discovery that he was still far on the outside of her personality -brought a cruel shock. He could not know that while his thoughts had -rambled ahead, constructing their life, hers had been absorbed in the -happiness of that one golden hour. He could not understand how his -words, and the realization of what this evening meant to them both, -had burst upon her with a force that frightened her. He could not be -expected to know what a struggle had come with this first open thought -of giving herself up to a man--what questions it raised, what problems -of wholly reconstructing a life; how the great question loomed before -her in dimensions that seemed almost tragic. He could not understand -this; and so, when he finally spoke, it was with a touch of quiet -dignity: - -“Margaret,” he said, “I have asked you to be my wife.” There was a more -and more appealing quality in his voice as he went on. “I have asked you -to be my wife. Can't you give me your answer?” - -She shook her head without uncovering her eyes. - -“Shall I come for it to-morrow, then, Margaret? I think I have told you -everything. You know that I love you. I can't live without you--I dread -even to think of waiting. It means so much to me, Margaret, so very -much, that I don't know----” - -He paused, for his voice was beginning to shake a little. Still she was -silent. - -“Have you”--it was getting difficult to speak--“have you nothing to tell -me?” - -“Oh, John,” she managed to say, “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” - -“Is--is that all, Margaret?” - -“You must not come to-morrow--I can't let you.” - -“A week, then, Margaret?--a--a month?” - -“I don't know--you must not stay.” - -He waited a little, then walked slowly to the hall. When he had his coat -nearly on she came to the doorway. He waited again, hat in hand. - -“Good--good-night,” she said. - -“Is that------” - -She shook her head nervously, hurriedly, and he opened the door and went -out. - -And when he had gone, when his last step had died away in the still air, -she sank down on the stairs and sobbed, trembling in the power of this -passion. What had she done! What had she done! Her thoughts ranged -madly. She thought of the three years of divergence; of his habits, of -hers; of all the things, great and trivial, that bore on the question; -she tried to remember what had happened this night, and could not. She -only knew that this strange power had mastered her; and she was afraid -of it and of him. - - - - -CHAPTER X--A Letter - -Mr. Bigelow sat in the chair: behind and around him were the speakers -of the evening, grouped with the Committee of the Society of the -Preservation of the Home; before him extended rows upon rows of -citizens, all of them vigorously applauding the last speaker, all of -them, without regard to private cellars, bent upon stamping out the -saloon evil in their suburb. - -An usher mounted the platform and laid a folded slip of paper on the -table. The Chairman unfolded it, read it with great composure, and -inclined his head to signify an affirmative reply. This was the note: - -“Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow. - -“_Dear Sir:_ May I see you for a few moments after the meeting, on -business of great importance. - -“Appleton Le Duc.” - -“Probably a reporter,” thought the Chairman. A draft of his opening -speech lay in his inside pocket, and if this man was attached to a -reputable paper he would be welcome to it. Mr. Bigelow made it an -invariable rule to be courteous to newspaper men. - -At the close of the meeting, therefore, as he was donning his coat, the -usher touched him on the arm. - -“This is the man who wished to see you, Mr. Bigelow.” - -The Chairman turned and beheld a tall, thin individual, with a long -face, wearing somewhat conspicuous clothes. - -“How do you do,” he said, in a genial tone, extending his hand. - -The thin man took it and glanced sharply at Mr. Bigelow--a glance full -of curious interest. A change had been taking place in Apples since we -last saw him. Evidently the care of his wife and his wife's mother, -and the prospect of a visit from the stork at once reducing the -family income and materially increasing the outgo, had quieted the -effervescence of his youth and set him thinking. - -“If you have no objection,” said Le Duc, “I will walk along with you.” - -“None whatever,” replied Mr. Bigelow. - -They walked together out of the building and followed that part of the -crowd which had turned westward. - -“Well, sir,” observed, the Chairman, “what can I do for you?” - -Le Due answered in a low, even voice--a voice which, if it showed -embarrassment and effort, showed also determination. - -“You were formerly married, I believe, to a woman who is now known as -Mrs. Craig.” - -Dwelling, as it had been, on the plaudits, the hearty enthusiasms of -the evening, on the written speech reposing in an inside pocket, Mr. -Bigelow's mind came to earth with a shock. He stopped abruptly, threw -a quick look at the thin man, and then, recalling that the sidewalk was -still covered with people, he moved on. - -“Have you come here to discuss my private affairs?” he said brusquely. - -“In a sense, yes. The matter has been put into my hands, and I thought -the most satisfactory thing would be to come out here and talk to you. -Of course, if you'd rather I'd see somebody else, it makes no difference -to me.” - -Mr. Bigelow was silent for a moment. Le Due glanced sideways at him as -they passed under a corner light, and was glad to observe that he had -penetrated the man's armour. - -“Are you a lawyer?” was the Chairman's abrupt question. - -“No, sir.” - -“In what capacity have you come here?” - -“Why, you see, Lizzie, Mrs. Craig's daughter, is my wife.” - -Mr. Bigelow's reply was a half-audible grunt. “Mrs. Craig, you -understand, is really suffering. She has no income and we have been -keeping her with us; but I am not in a position to do much for her--not -as much as I should like.” - -“What do you want of me?” - -“I believe--that you agreed to support her.” - -“Well, how much do you want?” - -“That isn't it, you see.” Somewhat eagerly this. “It wasn't only that -you agreed to support her, but the courts decided that you should. So it -isn't a question of what you might offer or me accept, but of how much -is owing on past years. I think I can understand it--I suppose a man -gets tired of paying out money he doesn't get any return for--and of -course it's been a good many years----” - -“Never mind about that.” - -“Well--you see--I've thought there was some misunderstanding about the -business. She says you told her to go to law if she wanted to, but I -thought she must have misunderstood you. Of course, she could, you know, -but her case is very good, I think. It would be expensive all 'round; -and it mightn't be pleasant.” - -Very true, Apples. It might be decidedly unpleasant, now that a voluble -young man, with apparently no regard for the proprieties, has sprung up -from nowhere to push matters. - -“Well, what _do_ you want?” - -“I've talked it all over with Mrs. Craig and she has told me just how -things stand. She has kept a pretty regular account of everything; and -she figures it out about like this. There were five years, nearly five, -anyhow--we don't want to quibble over that--when she was to all -intents and purposes paid up. Since then there haven't been any regular -payments, except about five hundred dollars that's been given her in -small sums. It was to be a thousand dollars a year, I believe. Five -thousand five hundred from seventeen thousand leaves eleven thousand -five hundred still due her--call it an even eleven thousand.” - -“You say you are not a lawyer?” - -“No, sir.” - -“What is your business?” - -“I'm--I'm an actor.” - -“Where do you play?” - -“On the North Side.” - -“What can you earn?” - -“Well, the three of us--we are the three Le Ducs, you know--my wife and -I, and Elmer, can get sixty a week for our turn.” - -“You don't mean to say you have a son old enough to play with you?” - -“Oh, no, no--we only call him Elmer Le Duc. We haven't been married so -long as that. But-----” However, this was not business, and he checked -the confidence that was never far from the end of his tongue nowadays. - -“How long have you been on the stage?” - -“Nearly three years.” - -“What did you do before that?” - -“I was at college.” - -“What college?” - -“Here, in Evanston.” - -“So?” - -They were now standing in front of the wide grounds of G. Hyde Bigelow. -Peeping out from its screen of trees, far back behind the spacious lawn, -could be seen the granite turrets of Mr. Bigelow's new house. The owner -turned toward them as he reflected. - -“I will tell you what you do, Mr.--Mr. --------” - -“Le Duc.” - -“Mr. Le Duc. You come to my office to-morrow at eleven. I think that by -that time I will have a proposition that will interest you. Meantime, -suppose we let this matter stand just where it is now. Is that -satisfactory?” - -“Why--certainly; perfectly so.” - -“Very well, I shall look for you to-morrow at eleven. Good-night.” - -“Maybe I had better leave one of my cards with you, sir.” - -“Very well. Good-night.” - -“Good-night.” - -Mr. Bigelow turned into the grounds and disappeared among the trees, and -Apples, bubbling with self-congratulations, hurried over to the trolley -line. - -***** - -Margaret was tired to-night. She was glad to be at home; and she threw -herself on the library couch to rest for an hour while she awaited the -final report of the day's labours. For George had been released from -jail, thanks to the benevolence of the judge--himself a suburbanite--and -to the clearness of the facts. It had called for very little effort on -the part of Mr. Babcock, who had taken the case on his own shoulders, -to make plain that George had been merely the cat's-paw of a gang of -roughs. And now Mrs. Bigelow had promised Mr. Babcock that she would -take in the boy and give him work about the house; so that apparently he -was at last to have a start. - -At length Mr. Babcock himself came in. He was almost jaunty this -evening; and his voice was pitched higher than usual. - -“How do you do, Miss Davies?” he exclaimed. “Here I am with my report.” - -“You brought him out, did you?” - -“Yes. Mrs. Bigelow has him and promises to take the best of care of him. -He seems a likely boy--unfortunate he wasn't better brought up. But of -course he may take a brace--such things have happened.” - -“You know I have faith in George,” said Margaret warmly. - -“Yes, I know. I hope you're right. Maybe you are. He'll be kept busy for -awhile anyway, learning to groom the horses and milk the cows. That'll -be good for him. Queer case, isn't it. Quite like a story. It has -interested me immensely. Been a queer sort of day all around for me. If -every day was like it I'd never get any business done. Came right in a -busy season, too. Oh, I don't mean about the boy. That was because you -were interested in him. I'd do as much any time you asked it--do it -gladly. But I ran across Myers while I was over at the court building. -He is going West, you know, for his wife's health, and wants to sell his -house. You know it, don't you?--over on the Lake Front. He wants to -sell bad and offers the place for next to nothing, so I promised him I'd -stroll down there to-night and have a look at it. How would you like to -go along? Your taste's rather better than mine, I think.” - -“Why--isn't it a little late?” He had never talked like this before; she -was puzzled. - -“No--not so very--about nine. But I see you're tired, so don't think of -it. Tell you what I'll do--I'll get him to let me have the plans, and -we'll look them over together, and you tell me how they strike you. If -it is in as good shape as I think I believe I'll buy--that is, if I can -get a clear title.” - -“It is very attractive along the shore.” - -“That's the way it strikes me. And with good horses you'd hardly mind -the distance. He says his library is finished in rose tints and Flemish -oak. How does that sound?” - -“Very pretty, I should think.” - -“Yes, doesn't it? So you really like the idea? I'm glad of that. You're -the one I care most about pleasing.” He rose and looked down at her. -“There's no use telling me you aren't tired: I can see it. You've worked -like a good one to-day, and I'm going to let you get a little rest.” She -rose. - -“I'll bring up the plans sometime before Sunday, and we'll go over them -and see what we make of it. Good-night.” - -She smiled wearily and stood there until he had left the house; then she -went upstairs and into Mrs. Davies's room. - -“Mother,” she said, with an odd little smile, “I want to go away.” - -“Where, child?” - -“I don't know---East, perhaps.” - -Mrs. Davies looked quietly up from her knitting. “'How long have you -been thinking of this?” she asked. - -“Not very long--just to-day.” - -They looked at each other for a moment in that same quiet way--Margaret -still smiling, but with a suspicious shine in her eyes. Then suddenly -she came over, slipped to the floor, and buried her face on her arms in -her mother's lap. - -After a long silence Mrs. Davies asked: - -“When would you like to go, dear?” There was no reply. “Very soon?” - Margaret raised her head a little way and was apparently about to speak, -then lowered it again. “Would you like to go this week?” Still there -was silence. But Mrs. Davies seemed to understand. “We might get away by -Thursday or Friday, dearie, if you can get ready. Can you?” - -And Margaret murmured, without looking up: “Oh, yes, yes! I can be ready -to-morrow.” - -As time went by the wisdom of Halloran's method of buying lumber became -apparent. If the orders had not gone in almost simultaneously to the -offices of the different companies the directors would probably have -put their heads together and declined meeting such an unusually heavy -demand. As it fell out, however, when the heads did finally go together, -it was discovered that the mischief had been done, that nearly six -million feet of lumber had been sold, in thirty or forty different lots, -and for about $50,000 less than it would have brought at the normal -rates. The possibility of speculators buying in the lumber had been -discussed from the first; but the directors had not dreamed that such a -movement could be actually completed before they could know it was going -on. And then they found that each of the twenty odd companies had been -pledged to these orders through its own authorized agents. Even now, -after the door had been closed on an empty stable, it was not plain what -per cent, of the sales had gone to speculators; for nearly every order -had come from a regular dealer in one of a score of different cities and -towns. - -Halloran soon found it difficult to buy, except in occasional small -lots. His instructions to his agents still held good, however; and he -hoped to increase his stock until he should have enough on hand to make -good all the losses resulting from the fight. That was his idea--to make -Bigelow pay the bills. Once this point was reached he would show his -hand by bringing all the lumber to Wauchung. - -At this stage of the fight there was a pause. On one hand Halloran's -countermove was practically ended; on the other, the Bigelow forces -appeared as determined as ever to keep down prices and force Higginson -out of business. Rumours were floating now and then, to be sure, -that there was trouble in Kentucky Coal, but there was nothing at all -definite. . - -One morning in the office--a nearly idle morning, as came about -frequently now--Crosman remarked casually over his paper: - -“There's a big fight on in corn on the Board of Trade.” - -“Something new, eh?” - -“Yes. It seems the secret has just leaked out. A man named Le Duc------” - -“Le Duc!” - -“Yes--Appleton Le Duc--sounds like a Frenchman, doesn't it?” - -Halloran left his chair and came over to Cros-man's side. - -“Excuse me,” he said. “May I see it?” - -“Certainly; take it, if you like. I'm through with it. It's a queer -story.” He went on talking while Halloran was reading. “It seems he's -a new man at the business, but they're calling him the new Com King -already. They say he shows a regular genius for it. It looks as if he -was going to corner the market. The paper says he used to be an actor.” - -Halloran laid down the paper and perched himself on the corner of -Crosman's flat-top desk. - -“That's queer business,” he observed. “The last time I heard of Apples -he was playing at a third-class variety house.” - -“Friend of yours?” - -“I knew him in college. If the paper weren't so sure about it, I'd say -it was a mistake. He never did it himself--he hasn't any money, to begin -with. Somebody's using him for a cat's-paw, plain enough; but I'd like -to know how the Moses he ever got hold of a snap like that?” Halloran -shook his head over it. “Do you ever read Mark Twain?” - -“I have--some.” - -“Do you remember the story of the bad little boy that got rich and went -to Congress, and died universally respected?” - -“Never read that.” - -“Well, it makes me think of Apples. The two poorest skates we had in -college are turning out about the same way. The other fellow was a lazy -beggar from down in Indiana. Came up to college to play baseball, but he -didn't have grit enough to make the team. He never got anywhere in his -work--spent three years in his fourth year Academy, I believe, before he -gave it up. And no one ever knew how he lived. But one of the directors -of a big steel company used to live out there, and this fellow scraped -up money enough to buy a dress suit and join the local club, and took to -playing billiards and drinking with the director's son, and finally got -invited around to meet the family. Now he's the assistant secretary of -the steel company, and has announced his engagement to the director's -daughter. Enough to make you wonder a little sometimes, isn't it?” - -The office door opened, just then, so abruptly that they both started. -Looking up, they saw Captain Craig standing in the doorway, hatless, -holding an open letter in his hand. He looked straight at Halloran as if -he saw nothing else in the office. - -“I want to see you,” he said. - -At the odd sound of his voice, Crosman got up without a word and brushed -by him into the outer office, gently pushing the door to behind him. - -“Sit down, Captain,” said Halloran. - -The Captain took the chair by the desk. - -“I went up to the house to see the Old Gentleman, but they wouldn't let -me in.” - -“No; he is not allowed to see anybody. Will I do?” - -Craig seemed not to hear the reply. “I got a letter just now--and I -wondered if I couldn't get away for a little while--I guess I won't be -needed on the steamer?” - -“Certainly not.” - -“I got a letter this morning--I didn't know as I read it straight--I -haven't got my glasses with me-----” It seemed difficult for him to -speak naturally, and he paused, staring at a glass paper-weight on the -desk. His seamed, harsh old face was working. “My God! Mr. Halloran,” he -broke out, “I don't hardly dare believe it! Here, read it.” - -Halloran took the letter and read what follows: - -“_Father_: I have waited a long, long time, and now I'm tired and I want -to come home. You were right always--it was all a mistake. Now when I -look back there are some parts of it that are like dreams to me. Do you -think you could forgive me? Do you think you could let me come back and -take care of your house for you? - -“I was all wrong, but I am older now--I have a girl of my own who has -grown up and married--and I think I could understand better. I can -imagine better, too, how you have suffered--how I have made you -suffer--and now that there are times when my life seems clouded and -unreal--some days and weeks even, when I look back I can hardly remember -what I have said or done, or how I have lived--when I think of this, and -think how my life seems to be slipping away from me, a little at a time, -I feel that I just must come back to you. Of course, nothing can be -undone, nothing can be lived over. I know that bitterly now--I feel it -all the time, and especially at night when I lie awake and all these -years come whirling up in my mind and confuse me and discourage me. But -I have tried not to grow bitter. I have been hungry a good many times, -and cold, and haven't had much to wear, but I have tried always to -remember that the only way out is just the patient, honest way. - -“There may not be many years left to us, but wouldn't it be better to -try to make them happy years? You see I'm writing as if I felt you had -already forgiven me--I can't help it. - -“Elizabeth is married, as I told you, and hasn't room for me any more. -But, George is not a bad boy--you will like George, father, I know. And -perhaps he will grow up into something better than I and make you feel -yet that it was worth while. - -“It is nineteen years to-day since you brought me down here on the old -_Number One_--do you remember? I have never forgotten how you looked -when you stood on the bridge and waved good-by. Well, my married life -was not what I thought it would be, but somehow now, while I am writing -this, it seems almost as if I could cut this long part of my life right -out, and take up the first part again where I left it off that day. You -will find me changed--I am getting to be quite an old woman--if all goes -well, I may be a grandmother before the year is gone. Think of that! - -“Oh, father, I don't know what I am thinking of to be writing like this, -when I ought to be down on my knees to you. But I can't help it. Can you -forgive me, and let me begin again? - -“Jennie Craig.” - -Halloran gazed at the letter until the silence grew oppressive and then -he looked out the window. Craig was still staring at the paperweight; -and when he finally spoke it was without shifting his eyes. - -“She was only eighteen when she went down to Chicago to work for -Bigelow. She didn't know any better--G. Hyde Bigelow wasn't above -marrying his clerk in those days. And then she found him out and got -a divorce; and I've never heard since, until to-day. I guess--I guess -there's a little pride in our family--she's never written--and I -haven't. But, oh, God! Mr. Halloran------” - -Halloran turned at the exclamation, and then, with such a sense of -helplessness as he had never before known, he lowered his eyes. For the -Captain was crying. - -“I'm going right down there,” the broken voice went on. “Have you a -time-table here?” Halloran fumbled in his drawer, found the time-table, -looked over the train schedule, marked the right column with his pencil -and laid it before the Captain. - -“When is that? Ten-thirty?” - -“Yes; ten-thirty.” - -“That's in about an hour. Well, then, I suppose-----” He made as if to -rise, but settled back again. Finally Halloran spoke. - -“I think I know your daughter, Captain.” - -“You know her?” - -“Yes; I saw her several times a few years ago. I can tell you a good -deal about George, too.” - -“She's a good girl. We used to think she took after me a little. I think -maybe--I think I'll bring her right back with me to-night or tomorrow; -and then you can come around and see us.” - -“Yes. What would you say if I were to go down with you, Captain. Perhaps -I could help you find her and George.” He hesitated a moment. “We'll -bring the boy back, too. I guess we can manage to keep him busy around -the office until the mills start up again.” - -“Do you know how old he is?” - -“George must be about sixteen, I should say.” - -“And the girl is married--she must be older--I guess I'm a little -bewildered.” He got up now and stood silent by the desk. - -“I'll be ready for you in half an hour, Captain.” There seemed to be -nothing more to say; and after another silence Craig went out. But -later, during the hours on the train, Halloran had to tell over and over -what he knew about George and Lizzie, their mother, and Le Duc. - - - - -CHAPTER XI--High Life at the Le Ducs - -When at last they were on the cable-car, north bound, Craig broke the -silence that had held through the latter half of the journey. - -“Do you suppose we could get them all together to-night--the boy, and -the girl and her husband? We could have a supper somewhere.” - -“I think so. It will be a little late before I can get George back from -Evanston--half-past eight or nine o'clock, probably.” - -The Captain winced at the words. He knew now that George was a charity -boy in the home of his own father. - -“If you would like to set it for half-past eight, I will see Le Duc and -then go out for George.” The Captain, whose head was in no condition for -planning even so much as a supper, accepted this arrangement without a -word. They were silent again until they left the car. - -“I wonder if she'll know me,” Craig mused, as they walked along, “I -ain't the same as I was then--it's a long time, Mr. Halloran, a long -time. She was a pretty girl--always had a laugh for one--I've often -thought of her energy and nerve. She had a way of going at things, I -tell you. When she got a notion she ought to earn her own living there -couldn't anything stop her. Are we getting near it?” - -“Just a little way now.” - -“That's good. It's queer how long a day can be--and after most twenty -years, too.” - -At the door Halloran paused. It was in a mean street, meaner even than -the old quarters near Hoffman's saloon, and the stairs leading up to the -living-rooms above were crowded in between a cheap restaurant and a much -less respectable saloon than Hoffman's. - -“Well, Captain, I'll leave you here.” - -“Why--aren't you coming in?” - -“No; I haven't any too much time. I know Le Duc's address--I read it in -the paper this morning. We will meet here at half-past eight.” Craig -was about to protest, but Halloran hurried off; and the Captain started -alone up the stairway. - -The Le Ducs were living at an apartment hotel not far from the Lake -Shore Drive. From the appearance of the building and the neighbourhood -Halloran inferred that the corn market was proving a profitable field -for Apples. He inquired for him and was taken up in the elevator and -shown into a neat little parlour on an upper floor, commanding a view of -the lake. Being received by a maid in a cap and apron, he repeated his -inquiry, only to learn that Mr. Le Duc was not at home--had not yet -returned from his office. Could he see Mrs. Le Duc? The maid hesitated. -But as time was pressing, he persisted. Would she please tell her -mistress that Mr. Halloran had come with an important message from Mrs. -Le Duc's mother and grandfather. The maid turned away and had nearly -crossed the room when she was intercepted by a loud whisper from behind -the double doors of the next room: - -“Ask him to wait.” - -So Halloran sat down and looked at the photographs of actors and -actresses that crowded the walls--prominent among which were large -prints of Appleton Le Duc and Elizabeth Le Duc and Elmer Le Duc--until -Apples himself, wearing a prosperous air, better dressed, but still -dapper, still with a flash somewhere in his get-up, opened the door, and -Halloran rose to meet him. - -“How--how are you? Oh, this must be Halloran. I knew you at college. How -are you? What can I do for you? Sit down, Halloran. Excuse me a minute -while I take off my coat.” - -Apples disappeared into the next room, and as the door closed behind him -there was an audible smack, followed by whispering. He shortly returned -with a puzzled expression. - -“Excuse me for keeping you waiting, Halloran. There are so many claims -on me these days that I can't get away from my office as early as I'd -like. Now tell me what I can do for you?” - -“It is a long story, Apples”--the Corn King seemed to dislike the -word--“but you'll hear it all soon enough. What it amounts to is, that -Mrs. Craig's father, who is a steamer captain, is working for the same -company that employs me, and-----” - -“So you're a sailor now, eh?” - -“Not exactly that.” - -“Let me see, you went in for that sort of thing a good deal in the old -days, didn't you? Weren't you on the Life-Saving Crew at college?” - -“Yes, I was. Captain Craig has come down here to take Mrs. Craig back -home with him.” - -“Well, you don't say so!” - -“And he would like you and Mrs. Le Duc to meet him and Mrs. Craig at her -rooms to-night and take supper with them--at half-past eight. I'm going -out now for George.” He rose to go. - -“Well, I'll tell you, Halloran”--Apples had risen, too, and was speaking -in a low, confidential voice--“between ourselves, my wife isn't going -out much now, and I'm afraid we can't do it. We'd like to very much, you -know.” - -Again came the whisper from behind the door. “Appleton!” - -“Yes, dearie. Excuse me a second, Halloran.” He slipped out again and -there was more whispering. When he returned it was to say: “My wife -would be very glad to have you all come here instead. We will have the -supper up here in our apartment. Tell them we'll be very glad to see -them--and you, too.” - -“Thank you. I'll tell them.” - -Apples showed him out, and as he left the building and headed for the -State Street trolley he found himself thinking much of Apples and his -rise in life. - -When he was on the Evanston train, however, he had something else to -think about. In order to get George he must go either to the Bigelows' -home or to Margaret's. Not one of the letters he had written since that -evening had been answered. Besides, he was not in the right frame of -mind to see her--or he thought he was not, which amounted to the same -thing. All day he had been deep in the trouble of the Craig family, and -in his talk about coming out after George he had not taken time to think -just how he was to manage it. But he was realizing it now as he left the -train and started up toward the Ridge; and as this is to be an honest -history, the facts of what followed must be told. - -Half-way up from the station, while he was walking briskly along, -boasting inwardly that he was calm and ready to see Margaret, his -legs, without warning him, turned him off on a side street. When he -had rounded the block, and had convinced himself that now he was headed -straight for the Ridge, they deceived him again. This was humiliating, -and, more, was not the way to march to victory. Twice he walked around -the square, but the third time, by a strong effort, he succeeded in -passing the fatal corner. Soon he could see the house a little way -ahead. It occurred to him that he was rushing along at an absurd speed, -and he walked more slowly. A moment more and he was in front of the -house, was turning in up the walk--but, no, he was mistaken; for the -legs, suddenly out of all control, carried him by and nearly a block -farther up the street before he could check them and get them headed -straight. He found he could manage them better by stepping once on each -square of the cement walk, squarely in the middle each time; and he -could keep this up by giving all his mind to it. This made it necessary -to take rather long steps, but the twilight was deepening, and, besides, -there were few other pedestrians on the street. Again he drew near. He -looked up at the windows--they were dark, excepting a light in the rear -and one upstairs. Something forbidding about the square old house, with -its rows of unlighted windows, chilled his heart, struck deep into the -energy that had carried him thus far, and he faltered. But this would -not do. He forced his eyes down to the sidewalk and resolutely put his -right foot on the next square of cement--then his left on the second -square--and on, step by step, up the front walk. He mounted the steps -and crossed the wide veranda to the door--then hurriedly pushed the -bell. - -There was a long wait. After a time he heard doors opening and closing -within, and the sound of a person moving; finally there were footsteps -in the hall and the door was opened. - -“Is--is Miss Davies here?” - -“Why--no. Miss Davies and her mother have gone East.” - -“Gone East!” - -“Yes; they are in the mountains--in Woodland Valley.” - -“Woodland Valley!” - -“Yes. I couldn't tell you when they'll be back. They didn't know -themselves when they left.” - -A moment more and the door had closed and Halloran was down on the -sidewalk. He turned aimlessly up the street. Gone East!--and no word for -him! Perhaps his letters had not even reached her. Why had he not come -straight back to Evanston that same week and claimed his answer? What -an invertebrate creature he was, anyway! What a gloomy evening! How -the shadows of the maples and elms closed down on his thoughts! The arc -lamps at the corners, the long row of houses glowing with light, all -smiled at him and drove him deeper into the gloom. Gone East! - -It occurred to him that he had come out for another purpose. There was -nothing for it now but to go to the Bigelows'; and with a glance at his -watch, he turned in that direction. - -The family were at dinner, he was informed, but Mrs. Bigelow would see -him in a few moments. He was shown into a reception-room, where he could -drop into a chair in the bay window and look in between the portières -down the length of the living-room. The furniture was rich and heavy; -the mantels and tables and bookcases were laden with bric-à-brac; the -walls were covered with paintings and engravings, some of them fairly -good, all of them very costly. From the dining-room came the jingle -of knives and forks and the laughter of children, and now and then -the heavy voice of Mr. Bigelow dominating. Then he heard the rustle of -skirts and in came Mrs. Bigelow. - -“How do you do, John? It is a long time since we have seen you. You must -have gone away from Evanston when you left college. - -“Yes; I'm not living here.” - -“Where are you now, John?” - -“I'm up in Michigan.” - -“You have a position there?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, I have heard Mr. Bigelow say that there are really about as good -openings in the country as in the city. It is so overcrowded in Chicago. -Are you getting on well?” - -“I--I guess so--as well as I could expect.” - -“I am very glad to hear that--and Mr. Bigelow will be, too. He really -took quite an interest in you, John. He is always glad to know that the -young men he has been interested in are getting on.” - -“I have come down to Chicago to-day, Mrs. Bigelow, to look for a boy; -and I have heard he is here. His name is George--George Bigelow.” - -“Oh, yes; George. It is odd that he should have our name. He is a -Settlement boy--Mr. Babcock rescued him from I don't know what distress. -I wondered if there were any distant branch of the family that could -have dropped in the world, but Mr. Bigelow says there is no connection -whatever. It is a very common name in Chicago, he says. It seems that -the boy's family is worthless, and he himself has already been in jail. -But he seems to feel some remorse, and I am not letting it make any -difference here.” - -“Captain Craig, his grandfather, heard to-day from George's mother, -after a long separation. We happen to be employed by the same company -and I have come down with him to find his family. He wants to take them -all back with him.” - -“To take him back? Why, he has been here only a little while. Did you -mean to take him yourself?” - -“Captain Craig plans to give them all a supper this evening, and I -promised him I would be on hand with George.” - -“Very well; I will send for him.” - -She stepped to the hall and rang a bell. While she was speaking to the -maid Mr. Bigelow came into the hall, with a little girl hanging to -each arm. He paused in the doorway of the reception-room and nodded to -Halloran. - -“How do you do,” he said. - -“How do you do, sir.” - -“This is John Halloran, dear,” said his wife, turning. “He has come to -take George away. George's grandfather, he tells me, is really quite -respectable.” - -Mr. Bigelow had shaken off the children and was getting into his -overcoat. - -“It is just as well,” he replied, without looking around. “We really -have no work for him here.” At this moment the subject of the talk -himself appeared, advancing bashfully, overcome by the splendour about -him, and not yet knowing why he had been summoned. He looked at Halloran -for a moment before he recognized him. - -“How are you, George,” said Halloran, advancing and holding out his -hand. “Do you remember me?” - -George blushed, grinned and took his hand; and as he did so, Mr. -Bigelow, with his coat buttoned and one glove on, turned around. He -looked at George--a tall, awkward, ill-dressed boy of sixteen--with a -curious, gruff expression, then his eyes shot one quick, inquiring look -at Halloran. - -“You'll excuse me,” he said, recovering. And without speaking further he -went out and shut the door hard behind him. - -“Come, George,” said Halloran; “I'm going to take you to a new home. -Have you any truck to carry?” - -“Nothing much.” - -“Get your coat, then, and come along.” - -“When they had reached the tenement and were nearly at the top of the -stairway Halloran pushed George ahead. - -“Go in there, George. You'll find them together.”. - -“Yes, I hear 'em talking. But ain't you coming?” - -“No, not yet. Go ahead.” - -George opened the door and Halloran went back a little way down the -stairs and sat down. It was dark and dirty. On all sides, above and -below, were noises--babies squalling, men and women quarreling--but he -heard little; his thoughts were speeding of! to the eastern mountains. -There was a young woman in those mountains--where the leaves were -beginning to turn, perhaps, as here in the West--only a thousand miles -away. What had he been waiting for? Was it for her to write? How had he -supposed her answer was to come? What stood in the way--circumstances? -Some other one? Or was it that the only obstacle was a certain person -sitting, at this moment, on a dark stairway in a tenement? More likely -the latter--but how was he to discover it so close home? It was rather -more fun to be miserable. Family reunion on one side of his thoughts, -all hopes a thousand miles removed on the other side--on the whole, he -preferred dark stairways. - -“Mr. Halloran, are you there? It's so dark I can't see.” - -“Yes; coming right up.” - -“I was afraid you'd get away from us.” - -“No, but I must be off now.” They were entering the room. “Le Duc wants -you all over there to supper.” - -“Over there?” - -“Yes.” - -“You mustn't go now, Mr. Halloran. He asked you, too, didn't he? Of -course he did.” - -“Why, I'd like to, but---- - -“Now, see here, after the turn things have taken we couldn't have the -supper without you. That's a part of it, you see--it's the way I planned -it. You've got to come.” - -“Well, if you feel that way------” - -“We do, and that's all there is about it. I guess we'd better be -starting over, hadn't we? It's most half-past now. Where's your jacket, -Jennie?” Mrs. Craig had no jacket, it appeared; but the Captain helped -her on with her shawl. “Got your hat, George? Better let me have your -arm, Jennie, going down the stairs. It's pretty dark.” - -“Oh, I know these stairs, father.” - -“That's so; I suppose you do. All ready, Mr. Halloran?” - -“All ready, Captain. I'll put out the light. Go ahead.” - -They went down the stairs two and two, Mrs. Craig and the Captain, -Halloran and George, and walked toward the lake, through the vicious -quiet of the side streets, through the merriment of North Clark -Street, through the sober, comfortable region of stone houses and big -churches--on to the imposing private hotel where dwelt the Le Ducs. - -“I'm afraid, father,” whispered Mrs. Craig, “that I'm not exactly -dressed for this.” - -“Nonsense! My daughter needn't be ashamed to go anywhere. I wouldn't -give _that_ for a girl that wouldn't be glad to see her own mother, no -matter if she came in a sunbonnet. There's nothing the matter with this -shawl, I guess.” - -“Why, no; but it's old. And they're not wearing shawls now.” - -“What do we care about that?” - -“I don't care if you don't.” And so determined was she not to care that -she managed to force a little smile as her feet sank into the carpet and -the door-boy stood aside to let her pass. - -Le Duc himself opened the door and greeted the group in the hall with a -“How are you? Come in!” - -They filed into the room, where a table was spread for them, and stood -about awkwardly. Mrs. Craig busied herself with her bonnet and shawl, -George stood on one leg and then on the other, and looked at the carpet; -and Halloran slipped into the background. But the Captain broke the -silence by advancing toward Le Duc. - -“This must be Appleton, I take it. I'm glad to see you, young man--glad -to welcome you into my family.” - -Apples took the outstretched hand and murmured something. - -“And where's Lizzie? I've got to see her before you can make me believe -I've got a granddaughter old enough to be married. You'd never think it -to look at Jennie, there, would you? Isn't she coming?” - -“Here I am,” said the young woman herself, appearing in the doorway. - -The Captain looked at her while the others stood silent; finally he -walked around the table to meet her. - -“I--I can't believe it. I'm just going to kiss you, my dear. I guess -your husband won't object if you kiss your own grandfather, will he?” - -“Oh, no; certainly not,” said Le Duc. - -“Well, well, so here we really are--all of us! Now we must have a good -time of it. Where are we to sit, granddaughter? Don't forget to put me -next to yourself. This almost makes me feel as if I was back in the old -house.” - -They took their places, and two waiters from the hotel restaurant -appeared to serve them. And then Le Duc, with some sense of his -responsibility as host, endeavoured to set the talk going, but without -marked success. For both Mrs. Craig and her daughter felt awkward, -and the Captain could not entirely master the oppressiveness of the -surroundings and of the waiters in their dress suits. Halloran made one -effort to enliven matters. - -“Captain, Apples”--Le Duc's nose went up a little at the word--“Apples -was on the beach the night you came ashore in the surf-boat.” - -“You don't say so? Strange, isn't it, the way things come around, -and the people you've met once are sure to turn up again? If I don't -remember you, Appleton, it's because I wasn't feeling in shape to see -anything that night but what was left of the old steamer. An ugly time -that was. There was an hour or so before you lighted up your fire when -I wouldn't have given half a dollar for our chances. The steamer was -breaking up fast.” - -“Let me see,” said Apples, “that must have been in my college days. Do -you remember just when it was, Halloran?” - -“I'm not likely to forget it.” - -“It was up the shore toward Glencoe, wasn't it? I remember one wreck up -that way--you crew fellows had quite a time of it, didn't you?” - -After this feeble light on the conversation, darkness fell again; and -the little family ate almost in silence, until the waiters brought in -a platter of ducks and set them before Le Duc. The host looked -suspiciously on them, then glanced at Lizzie. Finally, while his fingers -toyed nervously with the carving knife and fork, his eyes sought the -waiters; but one had left the room and the other was busy with the -vegetables. Evidently he was expected to begin carving--the table -waited, silently and expectantly--so he planted the fork in the right -wing of the first duck and began. It did not go well. A brown fringe of -gravy decorated the table-cloth around the platter, and little specks -flew out occasionally toward the guests. Lizzie turned to Halloran and -asked if he was living in the city now; and he replied that he was not. -The brown fringe was widening; and George was watching the performance -with increasing interest. Lizzie persisted: “Are you going to be here -long, this visit?” No, he was going back to-morrow. The diversion failed -here, and they waited in silence. Apples was breathing hard. At length, -a quick, unskilful movement caused something to slip, and the end duck -hopped neatly out on the table-cloth and settled down in a pool of -gravy. Apples leaned back in his chair and looked at Lizzie. - -“My dear”--he began. But the waiter was at his elbow, saying, - -“Shall I serve it, sir?” - -At this point the Captain rose, napkin in hand. - -“I'll tell you what, Appleton,”, he said, “you just change places with -me. If there's one thing I know, it's ducks.” - -After this, in spite of the gloom that settled on the host, the evening -went better. And when the party broke up, at what the Captain called -a scandalous hour, and scattered to hotel and tenement, there was some -cordiality in the chorus of good-nights and good-byes. In the morning, -by an early train, the three members of the Craig family and Halloran -returned to Wauchung. - - - - -CHAPTER XII--The Pine Comes In - - -That settles it,” exclaimed Halloran, tossing a letter on the desk. - -Crosman looked up. - -“We've placed our last order for lumber this season,” said Halloran. - -“Have the Trust people waked up?” - -“Yes. Our Oconomowoc man writes that they refuse to sell him another -foot unless they're assured that it won't come to us. They're pretty -late about it. We've got nearly all we want. Well, that ends it, anyhow. -The next thing is to get it all in. There's no use paying storage to all -those fellows now that we're found out. I wish you'd see about -getting both steamers off as soon as you can--send them to Chicago and -Milwaukee, where we have the biggest lots. We'll write for steamers and -schooners for the other towns.” - -“Can we get it all in the yards? There's a lot here now.” - -“Got to. It will crowd up close to the mills, but we can't help it.” - -“That will raise the insurance premium--clear up to the mill rate. - -“I know it.” - -“Do you want me to go ahead with the insurance?” - -“No; not yet. Speak to me again about it in a day or so. This lumber -isn't going to help us out very far if we let all our profits go out -in storage and commissions and carriage and insurance. I don't know but -what we'll have to carry it ourselves. It isn't just the weather I'd -have picked out--but this business isn't of our choosing, anyway. I'd -like to find out how much old G. Hyde knows about us. I don't believe -he's got on the track of the whole stock.” - -And so the order went out to concentrate all the lumber at Wauchung; and -at the flying word, passing from house to house, that at last there was -to be work at the yards, Wauchung stirred and aroused. Again men -came flocking to the office, shouldering peavies and cant-hooks and -clamouring for employment. Sailors appeared to man the steamers and were -set to scrubbing and polishing. Coal-wagons rumbled through the yards to -the wharves, bringing food for the furnaces. Men went about grinning -and joking and slapping backs heartily, and swapping yams about the -Old Gentleman in his palmy days, ten and twenty years before. Robbie -MacGregor appeared, fatter than ever after his enforced idleness, -growling at all the known works of the Creator, and refusing to speak -civilly to any one until he had let himself into his greasy blue -overalls and was free to finger his levers, and dress down the oilers, -and swear gloriously at the new hands in the stoke-room. - -“Good-afternoon, Mr. Halloran,” said Captain Craig, when he reached the -office. “When are we to start?” - -“To-night, if you have your men. MacGregor's on hand now, getting up -steam.” - -“Good for Robbie.” - -“By the way, Captain, I'll try to have some work for George as soon as -the first lot of lumber gets in.” - -“That's good. You'll find him ready for you. I'll be glad to get started -again myself--it's been a mean pull; and there just wasn't any getting -along with Robbie. I never saw him so down. Dry weather, isn't it.” - -“Yes, better for you than for us. Are you going to let Bigelow steal -your men off you this trip?” - -“I hardly think so.” - -“You may have a chance yet--you're to go to Chicago.” - -The Captain smiled dryly. He was in fine mettle now; his clear eyes and -sound colour belied his wrinkles and the white streaks in his hair. - -“I wish he'd try it,” he replied. “We'll be glad to hear from him any -time.” - -Late that afternoon the two steamers swung away from the wharves, one -after the other, steamed out through the channel, passed the life-saving -station and the lighthouse, and headed, the _Higginson Number 1_, -sou'west-by-south toward Chicago, the Number 2 sou'west toward Milwaukee, -to bring in the first loads of lumber. And a thrill went through the -yards, where there were a few men at work, and passed on to the long -lines of waiting labourers outside, as the shouts of the officers and -the rumble of the engines and the wash of the propellers sounded through -the dry autumn air. The mills were still silent the little world that -depended almost for its existence on the movements of that machinery -was still suffering from poverty and idleness, was still facing the -possibility of a winter without employment; but somehow the sight of the -two steamers once more plowing up the water of the harbour, of the blue -smoke once more spreading low over the sand-dunes and over the sparkling -lake that stretched beyond, spoke to them of new life at the Higginson -yards. If the steamers were started out after the long wait, why might -not the mills be soon humming and singing again, why might not the ax -again flash and strike in the forest, and the songs of the river gang -again ring down the long reaches of pine-edged water? The possibility -was in the thoughts of them all as their eyes followed the steamers far -out into the lake, and lingered on the fading smoke long after the boats -themselves had dropped over the southwestern horizon. It was something -to be moving again; and every one was a little more cheerful that -evening for what they had seen and felt. - -Now that the steamers were on the way, Halloran found that he had a -problem on his hands. More than six million feet of lumber demands a -large area, and the question of getting it into the yards was a serious -one. - -The Higginson yards occupied a peninsula, formed on the inland side by -the Wauchung River, on the other side by the harbour. This harbour was -in reality a small lake, such as one will find duplicated every little -way for a hundred and fifty miles on the eastern coast of Lake Michigan. -The prevailing west winds have thrown up a line of high dunes along -this shore, forming a natural dam at the mouth of each of the many -small rivers. The Government had at Wauchung, as at many similar places, -dredged out a channel that enabled steamers to get in to the wharves and -to turn in the harbour. - -The two mills were on the upper or river side of the peninsula, where -they could receive the logs that were floated down from the timberlands. - -From the mills the cut timber was run out on elevated tramways and piled -along the wharves. Ordinarily there was a wide space between the mills -and the nearest pile of lumber. There was a provision, indeed, in the -insurance policies, that it could not be piled nearer than two hundred -feet without the payment of a higher premium; and if the piles should -extend within fifty feet of the mills the rate mounted to an almost -prohibitive point. - -The yards were surrounded by water on three sides--on the fourth were -the cottages of the labourers and of the other poorer residents of -the town. Halloran had a choice, then, between piling the lumber close -around the mills (there being already a considerable quantity in the -yards) and either paying the higher rate of insurance or going without, -or carting it off and renting outside land for storage, thus adding a -new item to his expenses. Every spare moment between this day and the -arrival of the first steamer was spent in looking over the yards and -planning the arrangement so as to get the best advantage of the space. - -It was on the second day after the departure of the steamers that -Crosman burst into the office and cried: - -“She's coming in--the _Number Two!_ I saw her funnels over the -sand-hills.” - -His excitement was catching, and Halloran got up from his desk and -looked out the window. Sure enough, there was the smoke, far out along -the sky-line. A moment later, looking between the channel piers, he -caught a glimpse of the steamer heading in toward the lighthouse. - -Watchful eyes had already seen her from the cottages near the beach; and -as man after man hurried over to the yards to get an early place in the -lines, the news spread through Wauchung. These men did not know what -it meant--Bigelow was a myth to them, known, if at all, merely as an -employer of labour twenty miles up the lake--but there was the steamer, -bringing in a cargo of lumber that must be discharged and piled, and -this meant work. Soon she was entering the channel; and they could see -her Captain standing on the wheel-house roof with a hand resting on the -bell-pull. And while Halloran went over to the wharf to direct the work, -Crosman was kept busy giving out time-checks and cant-hooks and sending -man after man across the yards. - -Then she was in the harbour, was slipping up to the wharf; the -engine-room bell jingled, and the propeller churned the water; the lines -were thrown out and caught by eager hands, and the _Higginson No. 2_ -lay motionless at the wharf, her deck piled high with yellow hemlock and -pine. The labourers swarmed over the rail and went at the work with the -spirit of men who know what hunger means. The donkey-engines at each end -of the deck rattled and clanked as the hoisting-spars were lowered over -the cargo. And not a man on the ground, from Halloran down, but felt the -impetus that the arrival of this first load of lumber had given to -all Wauchung. Some of the men showed it by laughing easily, others by -swearing easily, and now and then they would all break out into a song -that would almost have shocked Jimmie McGinnis himself if he had been -there to hear it--to the immortal air of - - “My father and mother were Irish, - - And I was Irish, too.” - -They did not know that this song had been shouted by valiant fighters -and workers in many tongues--sometimes to reputable words, oftener -not--for centuries, nor did they care. It would not have interested them -to hear that, thanks to its wonderful vitality, this same melody had -served generations of students as “We won't go home till morning”; -had swung thousands of wearied French soldiers along wild roads before -Napoleon was born as “_Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre_”; had perhaps -led white-clad swordsmen, with a lilt and rhythm that fairly lifted the -feet, off to the taking of Jerusalem nearly a thousand years ago. And -now here it was again, sung to disreputable words, but as truly as ever -a shout of good-will and dauntless effort. Somebody had bucked the Old -Gentleman--no matter who or how--and the Old Gentleman, through Mr. -Halloran, was bucking back, was nearer than ever to winning. And when -he should win, as win he must, there would be steady work and meat every -day for the labourers of Wauchung. This was all they knew or cared. -But was the spirit less honest and earnest than the spirit of those -jack-booted Frenchmen or those white-clad crusaders? Allowing for the -glamour of the past, for the shining mist that enlarges the old figures -as their real outlines grow steadily fainter, were these hard-handed -fellows, heaving the new lumber from the deck of the _Number Two_ to the -wharf, laughing and joking and swearing like pirates all the while, so -different? Was there no romance here? - -Before the work had begun, Halloran saw Du Bois, an old lumber -inspector, on the wharf and called to him. The old man, a soft felt -hat pulled down on the side of his head, his gray beard streaked with -tobacco, turned and waited for him to come up. - -“I have a boy here, Du Bois” [pronounced DoO Boyce], “who thinks he'd -like to learn lumber-checking. Suppose you take hold of him and see if -we can make anything out of him.” - -“All right, Mr. Halloran. Where is he?” - -“Up at the office. You'd better send a man after him. His name's George -Bigelow.” - -“All right, sir; I'll keep an eye on him.” - -The Inspector spat voluminously and hailed one of the labourers. - -“Hi, you there! Run up to the office and tell George to get a scale and -a tally-board and come down here. Grease your knees!” - -The labourer ambled off and soon returned with George. - -“Well, young man,” said Du Bois, “they tell me you're a lumber-checker.” - -“I--I thought maybe I could learn.” - -“What's that in your hand?” - -“A tally-board.” - -“Other hand?” - -“A scale.” - -“What's the size of that stick over there? No, don't scale it--stand -here. What are your eyes for?” - -George had not passed the last few days idly. The lumbermen were a -picturesque, vigorous lot of men, and simply by associating with them -he had begun absorbing some knowledge of their work. Now he made a snap -guess. “Two-by-twelve-sixteen.” - -“Other one yonder?” - -“Two-by-eight-twelve.” - -“Call that a twelve? You'll have to do better than that. See that -steamer? We're going to unload her in another minute, and I want you to -mark down every stick on your tally-sheet as the boys take it off. Tend -your business, now. We'll put some hair on your chest before we get -through with you.” - -So George took his place on the wharf as the _Number Two_ came -alongside, and promptly found himself the centre of a dozen gangs of men -all hustling past with the sticks, while the two steamer-hoists lowered -them over in bundles, and the men on the steamer slid them off from half -a dozen points at once. Each plank and timber, Du Bois had said, was to -be checked on the tally-sheet and its dimensions recorded. - -***** - -Halloran, Crosman and Du Bois met for a moment near the office where -they could overlook the yards. The Inspector was shaking his head at the -still, blue sky. - -“I'd like to see a few clouds up there, Mr. Halloran. We ain't had any -rain since the devil knows when.” - -Halloran, for reply, stirred up the sawdust with his foot. It was dry -and loose. - -“I don't like it, myself.” - -“Are we going to pile it in all through here? You ain't figuring on -taking any outside, are you?” - -“No; we can't do that. Fill in the strip yonder”--indicating the narrow -end of the peninsula--“before you take up the ground around the mills.” - -“How about the insurance?” suggested Cros-man. “I haven't done anything -about it yet. Shall I see to it?” - -“No; we'll carry it ourselves.” - -Crosman and the Inspector were silent for a time after this, and -all three looked down at the activity on the wharf. Neither of the -assistants knew what a relief it was to the Manager to see that one load -of lumber and to know that there was a score of other loads already on -the way. It was his first glimpse of the tangible cause of the fighting, -and the sight of it gave him the feeling of actually getting his hands -on something. There was still to be considered the guarding it from -fire, and, at the right moment, the putting it on the market. He did not -know what new move Bigelow might be considering, but he could not see -how any living man could block him now. Every order had been delivered -to a lake port, so that he had no need to call on the railroads. And -an attempt to restrain him from using the lake carriers, in view of the -fact that the Higginson steamers alone could do the work with an extra -allowance of time, seemed out of the question. Bigelow would resort to -rascality, of course, whenever he could see or make an opening; but it -was a question whether he could find any more openings. - -“You wasn't here when we had the big fire, in '79?” The Inspector was -falling into a reminiscent frame of mind. - -“Hardly.” - -“That was before we had a steam fire-engine. There was only a -hand-machine downtown--damn little syringe on wheels--wouldn't put out -a box of matches if the wind was blowin'--and so the Old Gentleman kep' -about a hundred buckets hung in the mills. Joe Brady was fire chief--he -worked in the freight house. But the fire come on a Sunday and Joe 'd -been loadin' up ever since six o'clock Saturday night, and when him -and the boys come up with their squirt-gun they'd forgot the key to -the fire-plug, and they hadn't brung hose enough to use the river. Buck -Patterson--he was superintendent--was passin' out buckets, and he come -out to see what was the matter, and you'd ought to a-heard him talk to -Joe. Buck was pretty profane, sometimes, and he just busted out that -night. I guess he'd never had much use for Joe, only he hadn't had a -chance to tell him about it before. 'Why, you dam gutter-sponge of a -patty de foy graw,' says he--I'm only tellin' you what he said; -I was standin' right by and heard the whole thing--he called him a patty -de foy graw!--'You wart,' he says, 'you liver-eyed, kettle-bellied soak, -you ain't fit to polish toastin'-forks in hell!' He never talked just -like nobody else, Buck didn't. All this while Joe was hollerin' to -little Murphy to run for the key and Murphy was hollerin' back, 'You go -to the devil, your father, and get it yourself,' and sayin' it over and -over, he was so excited; when Buck just took Joe by the collar and give -him a jolt with his knee, and told him to shut up and get that key, and -Joe tun off meek as an infant in arms.” - -“What was the loss that night?” asked Crosman. - -“About twenty thousand--eighty per cent, insured. The Old Gentleman -didn't have a very comf'terble time himself. He'd been ridin' around -on his buckboard tellin' the boys what to do. He started downtown after -more buckets, and just as he got out to the bridge I looked up and see -him all a-blazin' out behind. He didn't even know it yet. Must ha' been -a spark lit on his coat-tails. I hollered at him, but he was whippin' -up the mare, and I had to chase him across the bridge. He begun to feel -funny then, and when he pulled up I grabbed his arm and jerked the reins -out of his hand, and hauled him off the seat and rolled down the bank -with him into the river. I guess there ain't much doubt I saved his -life------ Hello, they're stopping work down there!” - -This last exclamation was caused by the Manager starting abruptly for -the wharf. Crosman and the Inspector followed. - -The work was not wholly stopped, but a little group of labourers was -gathered about a stick of timber watching George, who was measuring -it with his scale. Some of the other workmen were standing and sitting -nearby, laughing and bantering, while a few made a small pretense of -work. When Halloran came on the scene George looked up with a dogged -expression. - -“What's this?” Halloran asked the gang-boss. - -“We was going a little too fast for the kid.” - -Evidently George had interpreted his orders strictly, and when his eye -failed him in the bewilderment of seeing a dozen sticks passing at a -time, had stopped each one to scale it. Halloran turned to Du Bois. - -“Give the boy a lift, will you?” - - -[Illustration: 0205] - -The old Inspector nodded, with a twinkle in his eye. - -“Here, young man,” he said, “take 'em down for me. Go ahead, boys!” - -He hitched himself up on the cap of a snubbing-post, and when the -donkey-engines clanked again and the timbers came dropping and sliding -to the wharf, and the files of labourers shuffled past, he went on -with his story. His eyes roved absently up and down the wharf, and a -half-circle of tobacco juice rapidly formed around the post. Not a -stick escaped his eye, within a hundred feet of rapidly moving timbers; -George's pencil was kept flying over the tally-sheet. - -“Yes, sir,” he went on, “we went down that bank--two-b'-four-fourteen, -two-b'-eight-ten--like two cats--two-b'-ten-sixteen--a-fightin'. -Two-b'-twelve-twelve. The Old Gentleman didn't--two-b'-twelve-eighteen-- -know yet just what was up--two-b'-six-twelve, two-b'-six-fourteen--and -he got his hand twisted up in my hair--two-b'-ten-ten, two-b'-ten- -fourteen, two-b'-ten-twelve--and when we struck the water--two-b'- -twelve-ten, two-b'-eight-eighteen--” - -A few minutes later, when Halloran passed again that way, Du Bois was -still in the story, though he had now no auditor but the preoccupied -George. - -That same night another steamer came in, and within a few days it was -necessary to put on a night shift to keep up with the influx of lumber. -The yards filled rapidly with high piles until the tramways and mills -were nearly hidden from sight. New lumber it was, not yet so dry but -that some of the water from the rivers still moistened it; and the air -was sweet with the scent of pine. It brought to mind the deep forests -far back from the lake, the rustle of the wind through the new boughs -far overhead, and the long, still aisles, carpeted in fragrant brown, -where the deer run. There were bears out there, skulking away from the -axman, grubbing up wild turnips and hunting ants and slugs in rotten -stumps; there were otter and muskrats and perhaps a lingering colony of -beaver. Soon the time would come when the deer and bear could reclaim -their lands, for the axmen were nearly through. Another score of years, -perhaps, and where had been great forests would be a waste of blackened -stumps--all “cut out” for the market. Rivers would be lower and dams -useless. Thriving lumber cities on the lake would be facing ruin--their -reason for being gone with the last timber--or casting about to attract -manufacturers or to cultivate beets--anything to stop the drain on their -vitality as the restless lumbermen should turn west or south for new -lands where they could found new cities and begin the problem anew. - -In ten days it was all in, the six million and odd feet of boards and -timber. And as Halloran walked down to the bridge one night and leaned -on the railing and looked over the broad piles he was nervous and -depressed. A part of the strain was over and he was feeling the -reaction. The key to the situation was in his hands now--it rested with -him to carry the lumber safely over to the day for selling, and then to -make it pay. He could not yet see Mr. Higginson. He had been to Doctor -Brown's this evening and the Doctor was decisive. The moon came out -as he stood there and shed its light on the river and the lumber. He -straightened up to go; then waited until he caught a glimpse of the -watchman on his round of the yards. - - - - -BOOK III -- THROUGH FIRE - - - - -CHAPTER I--A Little Talk with Captain Craig - -Full as the newspapers were of the great corn deal on the Board of -Trade, there was no getting at the facts that lay behind it. The brokers -seemed to look on Le Duc as their principal; Le Duc had nothing to say. -Halloran read the papers eagerly every day, watching for a word that -would justify his conjectures, but the secret was too well kept. - -One morning a day or two after the lumber had come in, he asked Craig to -step into the office. - -“Captain,” he said, “I want to talk to you about this corn business. -I'm inclined to think that if we could find out who is backing Apples it -might be just what we want to know most.” - -“You think it's Bigelow?” - -“Well, if it is Bigelow, and if his reasons for keeping dark are what I -think, the sooner we know it the better for Higginson & Company. Do you -think, from anything Mrs. Craig has said, that Bigelow knows who Apples -and his wife are?” - -“Why, no. Jennie doesn't talk much about those times.” - -“I don't like to bother you with this, Captain, but business and family -matters are so mixed that I don't know any other way to get at it. Would -you be willing to find out if there were any letters--anything that Le -Duc might have got hold of that would give him a grip on Bigelow?” - -The Captain looked grave. “I kind o' don't like to stir her up, now -she's having such a good rest. But--well, I don't know why not. Yes, -I'll ask her. I'm afraid,” he added, as he arose, “I'm afraid I'm -getting kind o' chicken-hearted these days. You see, I haven't had her -back very long. Yes, the first good chance that comes along I'll talk it -over with her and let you know what she says.” - -During most of the day Halloran was shut up in the office, figuring and -working out some new schedules. At noon he spent an hour or more uptown, -and a half-hour climbing around under the bridge; and later Crosman was -hailed, out in the yards. - -“Could you drop around this evening for awhile?” said Halloran. - -“Why, yes,” was the rather reluctant reply, followed by a blush and a -grin. “Any particular time?” - -“Right after supper, for half an hour or so.” - -“All right; I'll be there.” - -In the evening, when Crosman entered the Manager's room, the first thing -he observed was a purple sweater on the back of a chair by the bed. -Below it was an old pair of trousers, a cap, and, on the floor, a pair -of rubber boots. He glanced curiously at these things as he greeted his -superior; and Halloran's eyes followed his. - -“That's my fireman's rig,” he said. “Didn't know I was on the -department, did you?” - -“No. What's all this?” - -“It's what I want to see you about, as much as anything. I haven't gone -to sleep a night since the lumber began coming in without expecting to -hear the bell before morning. If the stuff was mine maybe I wouldn't -care so much.” Crosman's face sobered. “But you said we'd carry the -insurance ourselves.” - -“You didn't suppose I wanted to do it that way, did you? We can't pay -the price, that's all. And we can't lose the lumber, either. It's up to -us to see that nothing happens. I've worked out a little plan here and I -want you to help me carry it through.” - -Crosman drew up his chair to the table. His mind had been fully occupied -of late, and it had not before come home to him what a heavy--what a -very heavy--load his Manager was carrying. Now these six million feet -of pine and hemlock loomed in his thoughts and brought a very serious -expression to his face. - -“Cheer up, old man; we haven't lost it yet, that I know of, and we're -going to do our best not to lose it. But you see, in buying this lumber -and getting it all in here, we've done only half of it; the other half -is to take care of it and sell it at a profit. Now look at this. I've -borrowed some spare hose from the department. That's coming over in the -morning, and we'll have it coupled onto the plug by Mill No. 1 and kept -ready under the tramway. Our own hose will be coupled to the west plug. -The two steamers are to be at the wharf, with steam up, all the time, -ready to throw a stream on anything near the wharves: they'll lie one at -each end, you see. The engineers are to stand watches aboard and keep -a couple of hands sleeping by to man the hose. Then, if we have two -watchmen always on duty, and the rest of the boys sleeping in their -shirts and stockings, we could do fairly quick work, with the town -engine to help.” - -“There are the buckets in the mills, and by the office.” - -“Yes; we'll use those, too.” - -“And this”--he was examining the paper--“is the way you want the boys -divided?” - -“Yes. If the fire should be at the north end, where the yards are -widest, you will take charge of the hose at the mill plug and see that -the buckets are started; I'll take the west plug, where I can have an -eye on the wharves. Those are the men to work with you, these with me. -You'd better see yours the first thing in the morning--here's the -schedule of watches--and engage them. You see, they're all men that live -near the fence. Tell them we don't want a man that can't get to his -station two minutes after the _Number One_ blows her whistle, no matter -if it's 2:30 A. M.” - -“The whistle will be the signal, then?” - -“Yes. I've told MacGregor to blow until he hears the bark of every dog -in town. I want to get this all fixed in the morning, and so fixed that -there can't be any misunderstandings. Any time after to-morrow noon, -if that whistle blows, it means get to the yards in two minutes or lose -your job. You'd better tell them that.” - -“All right; I'll see to it. But gee whiz!” Crosman leaned back and -looked at Halloran. “Here we're talking about this just as if it was -going to happen.” - -“Well, maybe it is. Anyhow, that's how we've got to look at it. I'd talk -to the boys that way, too.” He rose and sat on the corner of the table, -looking down earnestly at the other. “They've got to understand that -we mean business. And say, look here, Crosman; what are we sitting here -talking about this for? Why aren't we doing it to-night?” - -Crosman's expression dropped from serious to dismal. “Why--why--all -right.” - -“Sorry if I'm butting into any plans of yours, but good Lord, old man, -have you stopped to think what this means? Here I'd got my mind settled -on to-morrow when I ought to have known all the while that to-day was -the time. We'll do it now. You look up the boys on that paper and I'll -root mine out and have them bring the hose over. We'll get everything in -shape before we go to bed.” - -The assistant was caught up and whirled along by Halloran's energy. “All -right,” he repeated. “But I ought to call Mamie up. She's--she's--I was -thinking of going around there.” - -“Use my telephone. Excuse me if I start right out, won't you?” - -Before Crosman could stammer a “Certainly,” he had snatched up his hat -and disappeared. - -Disagreeable as rush orders might be to a man with his family about him -of an evening, there was nothing to be said; and within an hour some -were starting out for duty on watch, or for a night on one of the -steamers, while others dragged the hose-reel out of the town and across -the bridge to the yards and put it in order for instant use. When the -preparations were completed, toward eleven o'clock, Halloran called the -men together and gave them their final instructions. - -Crosman and he were left alone for a moment when the last man had gone -to his post. - -“Well--that's a good job done,” observed the assistant. “I guess there's -nothing more, is there?” - -“No----- Oh, yes; one thing. I've thought a good deal about the south -end. The yard's narrow there for quite a way and there's no fireplug -at that end.” They were walking through the gate and toward the bridge. -“It's the least likely place to catch first, because there's water on -three sides, but if it should there's only one thing we could do. -Look here! Under the town end of the bridge--I'll show you when we get -there--I've hung a tin pail with matches and fuses in it, where it won't -be disturbed and it's likely to keep dry. And about fifty yards down the -bank there's some dynamite in another pail under the water. I've put -a sign on a post to scare the boys away. There, see that white thing? -That's it! I couldn't keep the stuff home or in the yards, and there, -I think, is about the safest place. You see, if either of us should be -running out here we could just turn off the road a little way and pick -up the two pails. It's on Higginson land and I don't believe any one can -object.” - -They went down together to see that the pails had not been molested. -“I've given orders,” said Halloran, “to several of the boys to come down -here every time they pass and report if anything's wrong.” - -Crosman was aroused by the work of the evening. “Well,” he burst out, -as they were climbing the fence and taking the road again, “I must say -you've just about covered the ground. I don't know of anything more we -could do.” - -“I don't know--I feel a little better, anyway. I'll walk along to the -house with you, if you're going that way.” - -“Well--I'll tell you--I--I'm not, exactly. I kind of said----” - -“Going to stop around at the Higginsons', eh?” - -“I thought I might, if------” - -“All right; good-night. Look out that they don't shoot you for a -burglar. But, say; hold on a minute. Has the crisis come yet with--with -Mr. Higginson?” - -“No; they expect it to-morrow. Doctor McArthur came up from Chicago this -afternoon, and the other one, the Detroit doctor, gets in late to-night. -Mamie's waiting up for him.” - -“Thanks. Good-night.” - -The following afternoon, as Halloran was closing his desk, Captain Craig -came in. - -“I've had a little talk with Jennie this noon, Mr. Halloran. I had to -explain to her about things, and how you felt a little delicate about -it, and she told me the whole thing. You see, it's considerable of a -story.” - -Halloran closed the door and drew up a chair. “Sit down, Captain.” - -“Well, now, it all goes back to a few months after Lizzie was married. -Le Duc wasn't doing very well and he made it pretty uncomfortable for -Jennie, talking about supporting her and that sort of thing; and finally -one day he asked her if she didn't have letters or anything that could -make it worth while to see Bigelow. Jennie'd never have done anything -in the world, no matter though the alimony _had_ been allowed her by the -courts; she always had a horror of going to law about it. But Le Duc -was hard pushed, and I guess she was glad to do anything that would -make things easier for all of them, so she let him have Bigelow's -letters--most of them promising to send money. They were all, she says, -plain evidence that he hadn't paid her.” - -Halloran was sitting far back in his chair, his hands clasped around -one knee, his eyes fixed on the desk. And while the Captain talked, his -thoughts were running swiftly backward and forward and all around this -interesting subject. He was hearing what he had most wished to hear. - -“And so Le Duc went out to Evanston one night to see him, and they were -all excited about it, Jennie says. But after that things took a change. -Le Duc wouldn't say much about it---he acted a little queer--but he sort -of made her think nothing was coming of it. And then, a little later, he -got a job, nobody seemed to know just what--and moved over to where they -are now. And he let Jennie and the McGinnis boy understand that they -could come with them if they would pay a rather high board. Oh, he's -a-----” Craig thought it better to pause, and turned his thoughts away -from the meanness of his son-in-law. He went on with better control. “Of -course Jennie couldn't do that, so they went without her. And Jennie was -so timid about it all she didn't even like to ask for her letters back.” - -“And Apples has them still?” - -“Yes; he's got them.” - -“And is that all she knows?” Halloran could not keep a little -disappointment out of his voice. - -“Yes, that's the whole thing. He's been keeping his mouth shut up tight -about the whole business. It pretty nearly tells the story, don't you -think?” - -“Why, yes, in a way. It's not quite enough to move on, I'm afraid. But -I'll have to think it over; and maybe I can see a way through. We don't -know yet that G. Hyde is behind that corner--but I'm much obliged, -Captain.” - -“You're welcome.” - -The Captain hurried home to have a few hours with his family, for now -that Halloran's “fire department” was organized he was sleeping, by -choice, on his steamer. - -***** - -It was two o'clock the next morning. Crosman was far, far away, coasting -down the joyous hills of dreamland. A laughing girl was at his side. She -could not play long with him, for dimly he understood that the doctors -were coming, and she must be at her post to welcome them. It would -never do for the doctors to come and find no greeting from Mamie. -But dreamland was bright to-night--the Little Folk were out in force, -dancing like thistle-down over the Queen Anne's lace, or coasting with -him down the starry slopes, a half-dozen on his back, more at his ears -whistling gaily that Mamie was true--Blue for true!--Blue for true!--and -hundreds of the maddest fellows capering on ahead, bounding and blowing -from blossom to blossom. One danced far before, clad in a purple sweater -and hearing a whistle. Now and again he blew a blast, daintily at -first, like the signal of mint to the bees, then louder and shriller and -shriller. It screeched hoarsely in his ears; a cold wind nipped at his -legs and feet; the Little Folk were swarming around him, all in purple -now, shouting wildly, urging him on--on--hurry--hurry! The whistle was -deeper and hoarser--where was he--where---------? - -He was on his feet in the centre of the floor. Through the open window -came the deep whistle of the _Number One_. - -In ten seconds he had tumbled into his trousers. Five more, and his -boots were on. Another ten, and he was banging down the stairs and out -the door, leaving it open behind him--and struggling into his coat as -he ran. He could not guess how long the whistle had been sounding; but -there was as yet no light in the sky above the yards. He must be on -time: it lay with him to set an example to the men. His side was aching -already, but he ran it down. As he drew near to the bridge he came -out in full view of the yards, but could see no light. Perhaps he was -early--perhaps the fire was starting on the river side. He thought of -the dynamite, and with a bound was over the fence and running down to -the water. A moment more and he was making for the bridge, pail in -hand. As he paused here he heard some one running across, above him; and -farther off were shouts and the sounds of running. The _Number One_ was -still whistling. - -Over the bridge he went, a tin pail in each hand; around the corner of -the fence and on to the open gate. He was dashing through when he was -hailed by a familiar voice. - -There, sitting on a projecting plank of the nearest lumber-pile, was -Halloran, a lantern in one hand, his watch in the other. Grouped around -him were half a dozen panting men. - -“All right, Crosman. False alarm. But you've made bully time------ Look -out, there!” - -This last was addressed to Du Bois, who came whirling around the -gate-post and crashed full-tilt into Crosman. The assistant staggered, -but recovered his balance; and the two sat down with the others. The men -came bounding in until fully thirty were there--more by five or six than -had been engaged. Halloran threw the light of his lantern on them. - -“Time's up,” he said. “Where's Potin?” [pronounced Pot'n.] - -No one answered, but after a moment the missing Canadian appeared. - -“You're late,” said Halloran. “What's the matter?” - -The man had to pause to breathe. “It took me a m-min-ute, Mister -Halloran. I--I guess I didn't hear the first whistle.” - -“We need better ears than yours, then. We can't use you after this. -Runyon”--turning to one of the promptest of the outsiders--“I'll take -you on in Potin's place. We don't pay men to sleep. That's all now, -boys. You can go home.” - -But now that they were aroused there was a tendency to wait and talk it -over. - -“What you got in them pails, Mr. Crosman?” called Du Bois. “Did you -forget and bring your lunch?” - -“No; it's dynamite.” In a conversational tone. - -“It's what? Say, you're fooling!” He drew back as he spoke. The other -men looked at one another. - -For reply Crosman produced a brown cylinder. - -“Good Lord! And I run into that!” - -In another moment Halloran and Crosman were alone. Down the alleys, -between the piles, around the mill, out the gate--for every hole a man -could squeeze through was abruptly pressed into service--the men had -disappeared. And when the noise of the scampering feet had died away, -Halloran said, with a chuckle: “Here's Du Bois's hat. I'll take it -along.” The next morning he found him on the wharf. “You didn't stop for -your hat last night, Du Bois. I guess you were called away suddenly.” - -The Inspector accepted the hat and pulled it on, drew out his -tobacco-pouch, bit a half-moon from his plug, tucked it away in his -cheek, and swept his eyes quizzically around the harbour. “That's all -right, Mr. Halloran; that's all right,” he observed, discharging a -preliminary brown streak. “I s'pose I've got to go up against old Salt -Peter some day or other, but if I'm goin' to have anything to say about -it myself I'd a heap rather go up whole. If I was to come an arm or a -leg at a time he might think it was old G. Hyde Bigelow tryin' to fool -him in sections, and the first thing I knew he'd be sayin', 'Bigelow, -you darned old pile o' culls, there's a line o' little red divils down -there a-sittin' up nights for you. Git along!'” - - - - -CHAPTER II--Going to Headquarters - -Halloran had not yet exhausted his resources in getting at the facts -behind the corn deal. There was one person who probably could, if he -would, carry the story further, and that was Jimmie McGinnis. And so -Halloran decided to run down to Chicago. - -The Captain, when he heard of it, came to see him. “Harry Crosman says -you're going down to the city, Mr. Halloran.” - -“Yes; I shall take the night train.” - -“When I told Jennie about it she wondered if you'd be going anywhere -near Lizzie's place.” - -“I can, easily enough.” - -“Jennie, you see, has been sort of looking for some word from her this -week, and there ain't none come yet, and would you mind taking along a -little bundle for Lizzie, and maybe a note?” - -“Not a bit. You'll have them here before supper time, won't you?” - -“Yes; surely.” - -And so it fell out that Halloran boarded the train that night with the -bundle under his arm. - -His trip was to be as short as he could make it, for he did not like to -be away at this time. Full instructions were left with his assistant; -and his post as amateur fire marshal was assigned to the Captain during -his absence. - -Jimmie, it seemed, had been with the Le Ducs until the change. Where to -find him now was a question, or it would have been if his eye had not -alighted on the name “Elmer Le Duc” in the evening paper, among the -attractions advertised by a Clark Street vaudeville theatre. He reached -Chicago in the morning, and in the afternoon dropped around to the -theatre. From the display of the name in five-inch letters on the -bill-boards of a downtown continuous performance it was to be inferred -that Jimmie was getting on in the world. His position on the programme, -too--toward three o'clock--and the little burst of applause that -followed the appearance of his name on the announcement card at the -side of the stage, aided the impression. And finally, when the familiar -wizen-faced, thin-legged boy, as undersized as ever, appeared, shouted -out the preliminary song of his specialty, and fell into a long and -wonderfully intricate dance, there was no doubting he had popped into -favour. When he had disappeared, after the third recall, and the next -turn was announced, Halloran slipped out and strolled a few steps up the -alley that led to the stage-door. - -A quarter of an hour later a large, coarse-featured young woman, wearing -a rakish French costume, came out into the alley; and behind her, barely -reaching to her shoulder, in the unfamiliar get-up of a light suit, a -wide-brimmed pearl-gray hat, tan shoes, and a bamboo stick, appeared -Jimmie. They started to walk off together, but at Halloran's hail the -young man turned. - -“How are you,” he said with a nod, somewhat as if their last meeting had -been but a few hours earlier. “Want to speak to me?” - -At Halloran's affirmative, he left the woman, who stared at Halloran as -she waited. - -“Been to the show?” asked Jimmie. “Got 'em cold, ain't I? I always told -Le Duc I could do it the minute I got a chance at a big house.” - -“I've been looking for you, Jimmie. Won't you have dinner with me -to-night at the Auditorium?” - -“Dinner, eh? What time?” - -“Half-past six.” - -“I suppose so. You see I was goin' with Jane--that's Jane Scott, you -know; greatest character singer and dancer on the stage. We're goin' to -be married next week, and I'm sorter supposed to hang around her most of -the time. But I guess I can make it. Anythin' doin'?” - -“Nothing very much. I'll look for you, then, at half-past six, in the -main office.” - -The dinner hour had come before Halloran could stop wondering over the -idea of Jimmie McGinnis marrying. When they were seated together at a -quiet table he spoke of it. - -“So you're going to be married, Jimmie?” - -“Yes; sure. But say, they ain't callin' me that no more. I'm Elmer Le -Duc now, you know.” - -“Aren't you starting in rather young?” - -“Oh, no, not for a man in the profession. You see, Jane's husband------” - -“Her husband!” - -“Yes. He's a skate, you see--lushes. He's a fool, too, 'cause Jane's -kind-hearted, and she'd a-gone right on supportin' him if he'd a-treated -her half decent. She can haul in her hundred and twenty-five every week -in the year--regular gold-mine. And a man that ain't got head enough to -hold on to a thing like that 'ad better drop off. We've been talkin' -it over, Jane an' me, ever since I made my hit. You see, she's got a -two-part skit that calls for a small man, smaller'n her, a part I can -walk right into; an' I thought it over an' told her I'd marry her an' -manage the business. She's told me since, she knew the minute she struck -me that I was her man. It's a good thing for both of us, you see. We -can clear up two hundred a week easy, and our expenses won't be near so -much. I told her I'd put up the cash for her divorce. It's such a sure -case that it ain't costin' a great lot. Of course, I don't need to marry -her, but the savin' in doublin' up on hotel an' sleeper bills 'll more'n -pay for the divorce the first year.” - -Halloran looked at Jimmie, shook his head, and then smiled in spite of -himself. And Jimmie had to grin a little, too. - -It had been a question how to open the next subject. Halloran knew that, -wherever there was a choice of ways to an end, one open and direct, the -other tortuous and subterranean, Jimmie's mind would instinctively seek -the latter. He thought he had better slip easily from the one subject -to the other; for if the boy were to suspect him of any strong desire -to inform himself concerning Le Duc he would most likely draw back, from -sheer perversity, into his shell. - -“You say you're known as Le Duc now? Didn't you travel with them for -awhile?” - -“Yes; but it wouldn't go. Too much madam there. Let me tell you this, -Mr. Halloran. Don't you ever go into partnership with a man and his -wife. It's hell on wheels.” - -“They didn't get on well, then?” - -“No; the only payin' thing in the combination was the name. Le Duc's one -of the best names in the profession, an' he's been more'n square about -lettin' me go on an' use it.” - -“I saw them a little while ago at their hotel. He seems to have struck a -good thing now.” - -“Yes, they say he's a big man on the Board.” - -“How did he ever get into it? There must be somebody behind him.” - -Jimmie fingered his fork and looked up with an expressionless face. “Is -they?” he asked. - -Halloran tried again. “I don't know, but I'm inclined to think there's -more in it than the papers say.” - -Jimmie, for some reason, chose to give no information whatever on this -question. And Halloran had the questionable pleasure of bidding him -good-evening in the consciousness that he was no nearer what he wanted -to know than he had been in Wauchung. The next step was a matter of -careful thinking; he was not even sure that there could be a next step. -Meantime, he had an errand at the Le Ducs', and as it was not yet eight -o'clock he decided to run up there. - -The great event had taken place in the Le Duc household. And when -Halloran was shown into the apartment, he found a happy father in his -shirt-sleeves dancing about a small white bundle on the sofa, a beaming -mother also in dishabille, and a simpering nurse-maid. Apples was -cordial, merry, expansive; he was delighted to see his old friend -Halloran--fairly dragged him in. Good stories and playful allusions -were continually rising in his mind and finding expression. He was -boisterously demonstrative, and given to squeezing his wife's hand or -slipping his arm around her as his tongue rattled along. - -Halloran delivered his message and his bundle, and finally, when he had -been made to say all that there is to be said about some other man's -infant, the mother and nurse took it away and left the two men to smoke -and chat. - -After a time there came a pause. And then an idea that had been floating -in Halloran's mind since his disappointment with Jimmie took sudden -form. - -“How do you like working with Bigelow?” he asked, without the slightest -change of expression, knocking the ash off his cigar as he spoke. And -Apples took the bait. - -“First rate. He's a driver, but he's got a great head on him.” - -“Yes, I know. I used to work for him myself, out in Evanston. I don't -believe he has ever done much on the Board before this deal.” - -“No, I don't think he has.” A peculiar expression was coming into Le -Due's face. “Who told you about it?” he asked. - -“Oh, I've always known more or less of his movements. He was hit rather -hard in Kentucky Coal a little while back, but I suppose this corner -will more than square that, if it goes through.” - -Le Duc smiled. “Don't you worry about that. I guess that coal business -is nothing he can't stand. A momentary change of opinion doesn't alter -the fact that there's just as much coal there as there ever was.” - -“I suppose there is--just as much.” - -Le Duc was looking not quite comfortable. “Of course,” he began, “there -are times with every man whose interests are spread out widely----” But -this wouldn't do. He was blundering deeper and deeper into some sort of -a trap, and not wholly grasping the situation, he decided to keep still. - -Halloran had learned enough. His trip to Chicago was not to be a -failure, after all. He had learned so much, in fact, that when he was -back in his room at the hotel and could sit down and think it all over, -there seemed to be no reason for delay in turning his information to -account. Over and over again that night he considered his case: he -tested it from every point of view to assure himself of its soundness; -and in the morning, instead of heading for Wauchung, he wired Crosman -that he would return by way of the lumbering town of Corrigan, the seat -of the Corrigan mills, in the upper peninsula. The Corrigans were among -the largest owners in the “combine”; and if they were as tired of losing -money as he believed, they would doubtless be glad to hear what he had -to say. - -It was an eight-hour ride from Chicago to Corrigan, and evening was so -near when he arrived that he went directly to his hotel for some dinner, -and made arrangements by telephone to see the younger Mr. Corrigan at -his home in the evening. - -“I don't know that we have ever met, Mr. Corrigan,” Halloran said, when -the two men were closeted. “I am with Higginson & Company, of Wauchung. -Your company and ours have not agreed, so far, in our attitude toward G. -Hyde Bigelow. Mr. Higginson refused his offers at the start because we -had reason to distrust him. We know now that we were right.” - -Corrigan looked at him with some surprise. “If you have any charges to -make against Mr. Bigelow you should see him, not me.” - -“I have no charges, Mr. Corrigan, but I rather think you have. I've come -here to lay them before you and leave you free to push them or not, as -you choose. As I understand it, when this combination was organized, Mr. -Bigelow was generally thought to be a responsible man. We didn't believe -it, so we stood out rather than have him direct our business. Since that -time he has got into such difficulties with his Kentucky investments -that in order to raise money he has taken to speculating heavily on the -Board of Trade. He is operating the big corn deal through the man named -Le Duc.” - -“You'll excuse me, sir, but I don't see------” - -He paused, and Halloran went on: “You understand, Mr. Corrigan, that our -position is what it was at the start--we are against this combination. -And if I didn't believe that you are going to be against it, too, I -shouldn't be here. I think you'll agree with me that if what I say is -tme, Mr. Bigelow is not a man to trust.” - -“If it is tme------” - -“And there is a way to prove it. I suggest that at the meeting, which -comes, I believe, next month, you lay these charges before Mr. Bigelow, -without warning, and give him a chance to explain. You are at liberty to -say that I gave you the information.” - -This was all he had come to say, and he was so sure of its effect that -he was willing to leave it and give the seed time to grow. But Corrigan -was aroused. - -“This--this amounts to saying that Bigelow is secretly plunging on the -Board.” - -“It certainly does.” - -“And this Le Duc, who is he?” - -“He's a cheap actor who married Bigelow's daughter.” - -“His daughter! His oldest child is not a dozen years old.” - -“By his present wife, yes. But he's been married before.” - -“I'll think this over, Mr. Halloran; I'll think it over.” - -Halloran rose. “I came up here from Chicago to tell you that Bigelow -is unsound. The sooner everybody connected with the Michigan lumber -business finds it out the better for the business. Good-night.” - -“Good-night, sir.” - - - - -CHAPTER III--Mr. Babcock's Last Card - -As the feat of riding thirty horses around a circus hippodrome -calls for the highest strength and skill, so the task of guiding the -complicated affairs of Bigelow & Company through the difficulties that -threatened them demanded sound character and experience. For a time the -Bigelow ventures had shown a persistent upward tendency, and the head -of the firm had then made an imposing figure, but a fair-weather man -was hardly adequate now. Kentucky Coal had slumped alarmingly; New -Freighters had perhaps been overrated; and booming suburban real estate -was discovering unexpected inertia where abnormal growth had been -gambled on. But the most disturbing element was the lumber fight. That -Higginson & Company could not only hold out until the meeting, but could -actually get the better of the Trust, had not been foreseen. Questions -would be asked at this meeting: there might even be some tension. And so -it was that Mr. Bigelow was not joking much nowadays. And so it was that -Mr. Babcock took his grip from behind the door and went to Wauchung. - -The air blew keen from the West as Mr. Babcock walked swiftly out toward -the Wauchung bridge. It was a crisp, invigorating breeze, with the -strength of the lake in it, and a faint odour of pine. Men grow rugged -and hardy in this region, whether they follow blaze-marks or mariner's -compass. No malaria oozes from the dry white sand; the children rather -draw from it the sap that makes the pine tree tall and sound. If you had -strayed into the forest in the earlier time of reckless cutting; if you -had stood under the tight green roof on a scented rug of needles, finer -than ever came from India, and listened to the song of the shanty-boy as -he struck his peavey into a bleeding trunk, could you have wondered at -the lilt in his melody, at the vigour, even the harshness in his voice? -Stand near a mill-race and watch the “boys” racing down, each balanced -on a single careening log, and you will have a glimpse of the sort of -men G. Hyde Bigelow & Company were fighting. - -Mr. Babcock passed the last straggling buildings of Wauchung's main -street and found himself in full view of the bridge, the river and the -lumber-yards. The sight did not please him, apparently, for he paused -with knit brows to take it in. Beyond, showing here and there, lay the -harbour, glistening in the cool light--and beyond the harbour the bald -dunes and the lake. - -The sky was blue, frayed here and there into ends of white clouds--the -glorious northern sky, matched only in the air of Naples or Touraine. -But Mr. Babcock was not looking at the sky. His soul was tuned to lower -things--to lumber, for instance, heaps of it, piles of it, rows of -it, stretched for hundreds of yards along the river, and across the -peninsula, and along the edge of the harbour. The mills were silent; -the watchmen were not to be seen; the only sign of life was the smoke -curling from the funnels of the _Number One_, where Robbie MacGregor was -dozing on the engine-room bench and hourly growing fatter. Six -million feet of lumber greeted the eye of the man from Chicago, as he -looked--and looked. It was new lumber, bought by experts, every stick of -it such as would command a good price when the owners should throw it on -the market, as they certainly would sooner or later. He shook his head -and hurried on. - -He found Halloran at the office and shook hands cordially. Crosman heard -the name, looked blank, recollected himself, and slipped out. - -“Well, you've got a great lot of lumber here, Mr. Halloran,” Babcock -began softly, glancing out the window. - -“Yes--a good deal.” - -“How much can you keep in the yards here?” - -“We have about twenty-five million feet in now.” - -“You don't say so! Your own cutting?” - -“Only part of it.” - -“You've been--er--buying in the market, eh?” - -“Yes, all we could get.” He could not resist adding, “It's been a good -time to buy.” - -“Yes, so it has, so it has. I suppose you're holding this lot for a -better price?” - -Halloran nodded. His eyes were searching the face of his caller. Babcock -paused to gather his forces, then settled back in his chair. - -“I feel like telling you, Mr. Halloran, that you've done a mighty neat -piece of work. To tell the truth, it's been a surprise to us to see how -well you've carried this business. Your fame now”--he leaned forward -and dropped his voice to a confidential pitch--“your fame now, however, -rests even more on the way you've stuck to your employer's interests -than on the cleverness of what you've done. There are clever men enough, -but down in Chicago we don't see any too many honest ones.” - -“No, I suppose you don't.” - -“This fight has been expensive, but it's taught us one lesson, I think. -When we organized the lumber producers we tried to get all the good -firms into it. We succeeded with every one but Higginson & Company. By -the facts of the case we were forced to antagonize you, and I'll tell -you right here we expected to beat you. But we haven't beaten you. -You've shown a vitality that was surprising. And since your owner, we -understand, has been dangerously ill for some months, we are forced -to believe that you, yourself, Mr. Halloran, are the real head of this -business. Isn't that so? Well, you needn't answer. I understand your -modesty. But there are the facts. Well, now, sir, here we are, after a -hard fight, just where we were when we started. I don't know but what -you may be better off. Anyhow, you're the one man that has kept us from -doing what we want to do. What we've learned in this experience is, that -we can't afford to go on fighting Mr. John Halloran. We need just such a -man as you on our side. Mr. Bigelow and I have talked this all over, and -I think we have insight enough to know that when a rising man, a really -big man, comes along, it's a heap sight better to get on his side. You -can't stop a man like that--he's bound to rise--and if you don't keep -his good-will and confidence, you lose. Now, we want your good-will and -confidence, Mr. Halloran. I've got some propositions to lay before--” - -“One moment, Mr. Babcock. If you have come to propose that anybody but -M. L. Higginson & Company conduct this business, you'll be wasting your -time.” - -Babcock looked thoughtful, then nimbly changed front. “We have no -concern in this or any business except our own. But we are interested -in men. There's no doubt about it, Mr. Halloran--I know how men feel all -over Michigan--there's no doubt about it, you're the coming man in -the lumber business, to-day. Now, good men, Mr. Halloran, command good -positions. Take this place you're in--it's a salaried position, isn't -it?” - -“Yes.” - -“Well, now”--Mr. Babcock's voice had dropped almost to a whisper, but -his intensity, his determination to win, trembled in every note of it. -He was smiling. “Well, now, what's the use of this, Mr. Halloran; what -future have you here? Even if you succeed Mr. Higginson? You can never -be more than he is, if you stay here. But once put a man of your caliber -in a place that's big enough for him and he'll expand--he'll fill -it--he'll reach out and up. In ten years, perhaps, you'd be at the head -of the business. But you ought to be at the head _now_--then, in ten -years, you'd be in Chicago or New York, with your finger on the pulse of -the financial world. I'm here for a reason. We've started in to organize -the lumber business and nothing can stop us. It may take time; we know -it will take men. But we aren't bothering about the time; we're looking -for the men. That's our way. And you're the man we need to make it go; -you're the man that can do it--you have a genius for it. Now--one -moment--I told you I had some propositions to make to you, and I'm ready -to make them.” - -He was playing the last card in the hand of Bigelow & Company, and -playing it beautifully. A few short weeks and the meeting would be -upon them--the meeting when explanations of the delay in completing the -organization would fall upon unsympathetic ears. He was thinking now, -for one moment, with his eyes half closed. - -“You know, Mr. Halloran, that Mr. Bigelow is the owner of the Pewaukoe -Mills. It is a first-class plant in every way--and slightly larger than -this, isn't it?” - -“A little, perhaps.” - -“Now, I could make you other propositions, but you know the lumber -business, and I suppose you'd rather stay in it until you've got your -hand worked in with something a little bigger. I offer you this: We'll -put you at the head of our Pewaukoe business, with entire authority, -subject only to consultation with the firm on matters of policy and -development. We want you to go in with the idea that your hands are -free--that you can stamp your own individuality on the business. Don't -you see, Mr. Halloran, it's that individuality, that business character, -that we want above all? We want the qualities that have given you your -peculiar success here. As to payment, that will be arranged easiest -of all. You know best what you ought to have. But I'll name a figure, -merely by way of opening the discussion-----” He smiled again. “Suppose -I say we'll pay you a thousand dollars a year more than you're getting -here, whatever that may be. If that doesn't seem fair, just say so. -We want to enter these new relations with the feeling of perfect -satisfaction all around--we can't afford to do it any other way. - -“One moment--------- Don't commit yourself hurriedly. This is a matter -for consideration. First of all, let me put that offer down in writing -over our signature--then we'll have something to work from. Will you -call your stenographer?” - -“We have no stenographer here now. But let me say------” - -“Well, I'll write it out--here, this letter-paper will do the business.” - -“Now, see here, we can't talk along this line. I haven't the slightest -intention of leaving Higginson & Company.” - -“I know--I know------ Take plenty of time to think it over. I'll go -ahead and put this down in black and white------” - -“No, Mr. Babcock. I won't consider it at all. I stay right here at this -desk.” - -Babcock brought up his reserves. “You are inclined to think,” he said, -settling back again, “that your place is here with Mr. Higginson?” - -“Decidedly.” - -“I see. Perhaps we've been working a little at cross-purposes. I haven't -been talking with the idea of taking away Mr. Higginson's main support -at the time he needs it most. I'm afraid I haven't been looking at that -side of it quite enough. You see, Mr. Halloran, we're business men, we -of G. H. Bigelow & Company. When we see a big man in our line we want -him; and when we try to get him, I suppose we don't always consider -the other people who want him, too. We haven't time. But I'm glad you -brought the point up. Suppose we go at it from a new point of view. Now, -I recognize (and Mr. Bigelow would agree with me if he were here) that -this very attitude of yours--this standing by your employer when he's -a sick man--is the quality in you we like best. We've seen it before; -we've talked about it. If you should go back on Mr. Higginson now--even -though, of course, there's not the slightest legal hindrance to your -looking out for yourself--how could we know you wouldn't go back on us -some day? But you won't go back on him, you see, and that's how we know -more than ever that you're the man we're after. Now there's not the -slightest need of any immediate change. We could even date your salary -from this moment, or back to the beginning of this month, without -expecting you to walk right out here------” - -“It's no use--I'm not going to leave.” - -“No; I'm not suggesting such a thing. I was going to say that--that -we're looking ahead. Let me see--you're about thirty, perhaps. Why, man, -you haven't begun yet. But if you stay here, and if Mr. Higginson should -die within these next few years without taking you into the firm, you'd -have nothing whatever to show for your work. Now, one place is as good -as another for such a man as you. All you need is to get a footing--but -that takes capital. My suggestion would be that you stay right here -and buy into the business--get it into your own hands. Mr. Higginson, -knowing you as he does, would be only too glad to have it go to you. We -can help you with that. Your credit is A-1 with us. We're so sure you're -going to see some day the advantages of combination and cooperation -in this business that we'll write you a check any day and no questions -asked. It------” - -“Don't you think,” said Halloran, speaking slowly, with an edge on his -voice, “don't you think you've said about enough?” - -Babcock flushed. “What do you mean by that?” - -“I mean, if your time's worth anything to you you're losing money here.” - -“Then you are not interested------” - -“Not a bit.” - -The junior partner of Bigelow & Company, still flushing, rose. “I've -made you a square offer------” - -“And I've refused it.” - -Babcock stood looking down at Halloran. His eyes were growing smaller; -his fingers were restless. For a moment he seemed not to grasp the fact -that he had failed. Halloran picked up a letter, then lowered it, and -looked up inquiringly. - -“Now suppose we leave it this way for the present, Mr. Halloran.” He was -rallying. “You'd better just think over what I've said. The main thing -is to pave the way toward an agreement, and I think we've done that. I'm -glad to have had this talk with you. Don't hurry about deciding. Weigh -it carefully. Good-by--glad to have seen you.” - -Halloran gave him a nod and he was gone. - -It was to be a day rather more than usually eventful. Before he left the -office, in the afternoon, Crosman drew him aside. - -“Would you------?” he began. - -“Well?” - -“Will you be home to-night--about eight?” - -“I think so. Why, anything special?” - -“N--no. You'll be there sure?” - -“Sure.” - -Promptly at eight the doorbell rang and Halloran was called down to the -parlour. Entering, he found Crosman, grinning feverishly; and over in -the corner, with her back turned, looking at a picture, was Mamie. He -looked from one to the other until Mamie turned around and disclosed a -very red face. Still no one spoke. The two now gazed appealingly at each -other, and finally it was Mamie who broke the silence with a preliminary -giggle. - -“I guess--I guess you can congratulate us, Mr. Halloran.” - -Coming so suddenly, even this bold statement did not sink at once -into Halloran's consciousness. But at last, after a painful pause, he -recollected himself and shook hands cordially. And then the story had to -be told in detail. It was all a secret, for Mrs. Higginson had not yet -learned to understand Harry as she would when she came to know him as -one of the family. During the worst of her father's illness Mamie would -not consent, but now that the crisis was turned she had--“Well, she had -supposed she might as well.” - -“We wanted you to know it,” she said. “And it's going to be a secret -between just you and us. We thought maybe--you--maybe you'd be glad, -too.” - -But for some reason it did not have that effect; for an hour later, when -Halloran was striding up the beach to the north, heedless of the waves -that ran up about his feet, of the west wind that slapped his face and -tugged at his coat, he wore a far from glad expression. And not until he -had fallen into step with the night patrol from the life-saving station, -and had swapped yams of the old Inspector and the Beebe-McClellan -boat and the capsize-drill records, and had learned precisely why the -Wauchung Station was the most abused and discriminated against in the -whole U. S. L. S. S., did he seem a little more composed. - - - - -CHAPTER IV--Twelve, Midnight - -The deep-toned bell in the town hall was striking twelve. It was a -still, overcast night, with a mild breeze blowing up from the head of -Lake Michigan. Three men stood at the gate of the yards talking in -low tones, somewhat oppressed, perhaps, by the silence. Before them, a -little way, was the white circle thrown by the electric light over the -bridge; behind were the great dim piles of lumber with the narrow alleys -between, now black as the sky, and carpeted as they were with chips and -shavings, as silent beneath the foot as velvet. The only noise came, in -the intervals between words, from the two steamers that lay breathing -softly alongside the wharf. - -“What you doin' on watch, Du Bois? Changed your job?” - -“No; Mr. Halloran asked me to go on to-night. He says it's time we had -some good men down here.” - -“Aw, go on!” - -“Say, Runyon, who's that on the bridge?” - -All three watched a moment. - -“Dunno 'im. Throw your lantern on 'im when he goes by.” - -But the fellow turned in at the gate. - -“Who's this?” - -“I'm George Bigelow. Mr. Halloran said I could go on watch at twelve.” - -“Bigelow ain't a very safe name around here, sonny. How about it, Du -Bois?” - -“It's all right, I guess. He's the new lumber-checker.” They all -laughed. “You understand, don't you, boy, that if a man's caught -sleeping or off his post he gets shot?” - -“Why--why------” - -“Don't let 'im scare you, sonny. He's the lazy beggar 'imself. Say, Du -Bois, I thought I saw a tramp hanging around about an hour ago. If you -want to look through the yards once more with me I'll stay for it.” - -“Take the boy. It'll learn him the ropes. Run along, boy.” - -“Good-night, there.” - -“Good-night, Runyon. I won't wait.” - -They separated, one man hurrying off for home and a bed, Du Bois -lingering at the gate for a look up and down the line of the fence; -Runyon and George, their lanterns darkened, slipping stealthily away -into the shadow. - -“I seen somethin' over there by the mill,” said Runyon, in a subdued -voice, “like it was a tramp that had dumb the fence by the bridge and -was sneakin' along the bank. Here, now, hold on a minute,”--he caught -the boy's arm--“I was a-standin' right here. Now look down between -them piles--past the mill. See that little strip o' the river where -the bridge light's a-shinin'? It looked to me like somethin' black went -acrost it.” - -They went on, giving a quarter of an hour to winding through the alleys, -throwing a light into every dark corner. “A feller can't be expected -to see everything--not in yards as big as these here. We needn't go out -around the P'int. I guess there ain't nothin'. Here's Du Bois a-waitin' -by the _Number One_. I'll leave you with him. You got a whistle, ain't -you?” - -“Yes; Mr. Halloran gave me one.” - -“You know about it? If you blow, it means fire. So don't get gay with -it.” - -“Hallo, there,” said Du Bois, as they joined him on the wharf in the -little patch of light that fell from the steamer's engine-room. “You're -purty poor. Where's your tramp?” - -“He wasn't to home. We 'lowed we'd call again. So long.” - -“So long, there.” - -The engine-room was snug and comfortable, a capital headquarters for -patrol duty. So the old Inspector took immediate precedence of his -associate. “Now, young man, we'll have to break you in first thing. You -better go over and patrol the fence f'r'n hour. Then you come back here -and report. Be kind o' cautiouslike about your whistle.” - -“I don't know------” - -“No, I guess you don't--not such a dam sight. What's the matter? What -you waitin' f'r?” - -“Why--when we was going around the yards, he said he guessed we wouldn't -go out as fur's the Point--and I thought mebbe I'd go now, jes so's to -be sure.” - -“So you've took to thinkin', eh? I s'pose you was a-thinkin' you'd send -me over to the fence.” - -“No, I didn't mean to send you, but I thought mebbe------” - -“Git along with you. You talk too much. You make me sick.” And the -Inspector, with a chuckle, made slowly toward the gate, leaving the boy -to his own resources. - -George walked to the end of the wharf and stood a moment, debating -whether to keep on along the bank or to turn in among the lumber-piles. -He decided on the latter course and crowded through, with the help of -his lantern, by crawling over and under the projecting ends of planks -between two huge piles. This brought him into an alley that led, -with one turn, to the narrow space of open ground at the end of the -peninsula. He closed his lantern and felt his way along. He had nearly -reached the turn, he thought, when it was suddenly revealed to him by -a light flickering on the lumber. He stopped short and held his breath. -The light was growing rapidly. He rushed forward around the turn--and -again he stopped. A blaze that had evidently started at the base of a -pile of inch stuff was now curling upward, was already half way up -to the top; and it crackled ominously as it wreathed around the thin, -resinous boards. Standing a little way off at the edge of the bank, -looking stupidly at the fire, was the worst specimen from the land of -trampdom George had ever seen. His clothing hung about him in rags, his -hair and beard were grizzled and matted, his face was red; and his whole -body seemed to tremble as if from a nervous affection. He looked -up frantically, called out something in a husky voice and held up a -blackened clay pipe, then, on an impulse, he dropped the pipe, turned -and dove out into the river. There was a splash, the firelight glistened -for an instant on the spray, and he had disappeared. - -George remembered his whistle and blew it sharply half a dozen times His -first thought was to turn back to the steamer, and he had taken a few -steps when a shout told him that his signal was heard, that probably -the fire could be seen now, for it was already licking at the topmost -boards; and so he threw his lantern away and took a running dive off the -bank. - -Du Bois, walking slowly, had nearly reached the gate when he heard -George's whistle. “The boy's crazy,” he muttered. “Wonder they wouldn't -give us unweaned infants f'r patrol.” He looked down the centre roadway, -but could see no light. However, his duty was obvious, and he turned and -ran back to the wharf, growling as he went. The men were aroused on both -steamers. As he passed the _Number Two_ he saw the hands dragging out -a coil of hose with the nozzle ready attached. On the upper deck of the -_Number One_ Captain Craig, with a pair of trousers hastily drawn on and -his nightgown partly tucked in at the waist, was leaning on the rail and -peering out over the yards. The deckhouse door was open, throwing the -light on him. In the fainter light, on the main deck, MacGregor was -hanging out. - -“How is it, Cap'n?” he was calling. - -The Captain made a sign of impatience, straightened up and shaded his -eyes with one hand to shut off the light from the steamer; then gave a -shout, and pointing toward the end of the peninsula, he plunged into the -wheel-house and pulled the whistle-cord. MacGregor disappeared in the -engine-room. - -At the moment Du Bois was midway between the two steamers running along -the wharf. He stopped now and retraced a few steps. “Hi, there!” he -called to the men who were at work on the _Number Two_, “uncouple that -hose and bring 'er up to the _Number One_.” - -“What for?” asked some one. - -“What for? You--you------ Hi, Cap'n Craig! I'm a-bringin' up the Number -Two's line---- Will you have yours uncoupled for us? Now, you louts, -gimme a hold o' the line. All together, now! _Heave_ f'r it! Over the -rail with 'er! Lay hold now, lively! Did you think you was a-sprinklin' -the front yard _an_ the tulip-bed? Ryan, if you fall over them feet of -yourn again I'll be darned if I don't soak you. All together, now!-- -right in the solar plexus, b' th' divvel. Now _heave!_ HEAVE! What's the -trouble, there. Damn that Ryan! Say, you've got more feet to the square -inch than any man a-walkin'. Here she is, Cap'n. Take off that nozzle, -one o' you, while I couple 'er. Hold on, Robbie, we'll holler when we -want water. Jest heave that Ryan overboard, a couple o' you. All right, -Cap'n. Will we take the nozzle? Here we go, now! Run 'er out! Quick, -there------You're the craziest lot o' hare-lipped bungholes I ever see!” - -They were stretching out the hose to its fullest extent, but they were -still some distance from the fire that now was roaring and crackling -before them. Already they could hear the wind, swelling from a night -breeze; it was whipping the flames into madness. - -“Hi! Robbie! Let 'er go! Pass the word there Let 'er go!” - -The men shouted; MacGregor responded; the flat line of hose swelled and -writhed as the water was forced through. “Hold hard, Cap'n!” The nozzle -was almost wrenched from their hands; the stream rushed out and curved -high over the lumber. - -“Are we a-gettin' at it?” - -“I don't think so. I can't see. Here, work out into the roadway.” - -“Lord, no, we ain't reachin' 'er by three rods. An' she's a-burnin' to beat -the yellow devils. What's the matter with the boys? Damn it, they -must think we're a-doin' it f'r fun! This ain't no Fourth o' July -pyrotechnics.” - -“They'll be here. It's not much more'n a minute since George signaled.” - -“There's some more of the boys, I think.” - -“I can't see much--this light's in my eyes. It's no use trying to reach -it. Here, let's wet down these here piles. That's good. Now hold her -there.” - -“Gettin' pretty hot here, Cap'n.” - -“Can't help that. It'll be hotter before we get through. Have an eye out -to see that we don't get cut off behind. Here come the buckets.” - -“Here you are, boys--this way! How many is they of you?” - -“I dunno--about a dozen, I guess. The boys is comin' right in.” - -“Form a line here along the road. If you keep your clothes wet there's -no danger, I guess. Stir along, now. Mr. Halloran come?” - -“Not yet. Mr. Crosman's couplin' up the yard hose an' he'll be along -here'n a minute.” - -The fire was giving rise to the wind; the wind was lashing the fire. The -crackling was loud now; the roar made it hard to talk. As they worked -and watched a gust of wind came sweeping across the harbour, and -catching up the top row of boards from an exposed pile, it tossed them, -burning, high in the air. The sparks were flying high, coursing the -length of the yards, some falling far beyond. Men were pouring into the -yards. Somewhere across the river the town fire-engine was clanging out -toward the bridge. - -A man, hatless, in a purple sweater, carrying a tin pail in each hand, -came running through the gate and down the central roadway. Some one -shouted “Here he comes!” and here and there other men, working with -hose or bucket, heard the shout and caught it up for sheer excitement, -heedless of the cause. - -“What's that?” said Du Bois. “It's all clear behind, ain't it? We ain't -cut off?” - -“Oh, no; we aren't cut off.” - -“Say, Cap'n, I can't stand this; let's drop back a step or so. Lord -knows we ain't doin' much good here. See her burn! I guess it's all day -with Higginson & Company. Here come the fire boys--I see a helmet back -there--------No, they've quit. They're a-runnin' back, an' draggin' -their hose with 'em. Who's this here a-comin' f'r us?” - -“I don't know; I can't see.” - -“It's himself--it's Mr. Halloran. Hi! What's that?” - -[Illustration: 0267] - -“Back with you, quick!” Halloran was shouting. “Never mind the hose. Let -it go. You'll have to run for it. One's enough here.” - -“Good Lord, he's goin' to try the dynamite. Hold on, there, Mr. -Halloran! You'll never make it; the fire's too close.” - -“_Get back there!_ What do you mean by talking back to me?” Halloran's -eyes were blazing. “Get back or I'll throw you back Drop that hose, -Cap'n. Don't say a word!” - -“All right, Cap'n. I guess we can get the hose back with us. Heave, -now!” - -Halloran jerked it away from them, took the Captain by the shoulders and -spun him around. “I'll give you three seconds to get to the gate. Now -_get!_ And none of your talk!” - -They ran, without a word. - -The fire had eaten its way almost to the widening of the peninsula, -almost to the last point where the dynamite could be expected to stop -it. A narrow strip could be blasted out, but once the flames had swept -on into the main yards nothing could check them. The steamers were far -enough away, Halloran thought, to be safe; and he had warned all the men -back. They stood now at the gate, waiting. The watchmen and deckhands -were there, and the twenty- or thirty amateur and the dozen professional -fire-fighters. Crosman came hurrying over from the mill-plug and -addressed himself to the Wauchung chief. - -“Have your boys run the hose right down the minute you hear the second -explosion.” - -“There'll be only two?” - -“Only two. I've got my hose ready to take down the other road. The rest -of you boys be ready with your buckets, and when the Chief here gives -the word you run for it, every one of you. Understand?” Then he hurried -back to his station. - -“Here he comes,” said a Wauchung fireman. - -Down the narrow roadway they could see a black figure running. Nearer he -came, his shadow leaping grotesquely before. And just as he reached them -and put out his hand to check his progress, the whole south end of the -yards seemed to rise high in the air--once, and then again. - -“Come on, boys,” called Halloran, turning before he had fairly caught -his breath. “Cap'n, go to the steamer and see that she's all right. This -way, boys!” Eager hands laid hold of the hose and ran forward with it. -Over by the mills they could hear Crosman urging his men on. And ahead -of all was the bucket brigade. - -The explosion had cleared a path from bank to bank. Many of the blazing -timbers had fallen into the yards, but the buckets and Crosman's hose -were turned on these, while the firemen gave their attention to the wide -heap of débris that seemed on the point of blazing up again. A third -line of hose was soon brought up, and within a quarter of an hour the -Chief had the satisfaction of saying to Halloran, “We've got her in -hand now.” An hour more and the fire was over, excepting the smouldering -piles, on which streams of water would be kept for the rest of the -night. Halloran assigned a few men to stay on watch with the firemen -and, leaving the responsibility in the hands of the Chief, he went over -to the _Number One_. Craig was on the wharf. - -“Any harm done, Cap'n?” - -“No--not to speak of. About all the glass is broken, and some sparks -came aboard, but we put them out easy enough.” - -“Say, Cap'n, I don't know just what I said to you to-night------” - -“That's all right, Mr. Halloran--don't you speak of it. You were tending -to your business, that was all. You haven't seen anything of George, -have you?” - -“George? No. Isn't he here?” - -“No, he ain't. He was out at the Point. He gave us the signal, but he -didn't come back.” - -“Well, here, we'll look into this. Du Bois, there, did you see George -after he gave the alarm?” - -“No, I ain't seen 'im since he went out to the P'int. What's the matter, -ain't he around?” - -“No, he hasn't been seen. Look him up, will you? Ask the boys, and look -around the yards a bit.” - -“Here he is now.” - -Craig and the Manager turned and saw, sure enough, George, leading, with -the assistance of a local policeman, a villainous-looking tramp. George -himself looked almost as disreputable as the tramp, and the policeman -had evidently not been treading paths of ease. - -“Here's the man that done it, Mr. Halloran,” said George excitedly. “The -copper said he didn't mind bringing him here so's you could see him -before he gets run in. He won't say nothing, though.” - -Halloran soon drew out George's story, but the tramp was silent, beyond -claiming stoutly that he had been smoking and had fallen asleep, only -to awake and find the flames starting up. There was nothing to do but to -turn him over to the law for the present. And at last, as the hour -crept on toward two o'clock in the morning, Halloran and Crosman, after -sending a reassuring message to the Higginsons, left the yards together -for home and bed. - - - - -CHAPTER V--The Meeting - -One afternoon young Corrigan appeared at the office. “I wish you would -repeat,” he said, when the civilities had been exchanged, “what you said -to me a little while back.” - -“About Mr. Bigelow?” - -“Yes. Please tell me just what you think, and why you think so. You -understand that I couldn't go on with this without pretty good authority -behind me.” - -“I have no documentary proof, if that's what you mean. But to my -notion, that isn't necessary.” And Halloran simply repeated his former -statements. - -“Tell me again about this Le Duc--what is his relationship to Mr. -Bigelow?” - -“I may as well give you the whole story, Mr. Corrigan. The daughter of -our Captain Craig went to Chicago some twenty years ago as Bigelow's -private secretary. They were married and had two children, and then they -were divorced. The courts allowed Mrs. Bigelow a decent income by way -of alimony, most of which was never paid, and in some letters Bigelow -admitted that it was unpaid. A little while ago, Le Duc, a fellow I had -known in college, who had drifted on the stage and was rather up against -it, married the daughter, Elizabeth Bigelow. They were all poor--Mrs. -Bigelow (or Mrs. Craig, as she is now known) was really in want--and -finally Le Duc got the letters from her and went out one evening to -Evanston to demand money from Bigelow. Instead of giving it to him, -Bigelow bought him off by offering him a position as the nominal head of -the corner he was contemplating on the Board. Le Duc accepted, kept the -letters, and cast off Mrs. Craig, who is now living here in Wauchung -with her father. Just before I saw you he told me himself that Bigelow -was the man behind him in his operations. That's the story.” - -“Well--well,” observed Corrigan, with a distressed expression. - -“And in telling it to you, I'm assuming that you don't want a Board of -Trade plunger at the head of your combination.” - -“No, no, of course we don't. Now, Mr. Halloran, what is it exactly that -you have to suggest?” - -“Say to Mr. Bigelow at your meeting that you have been told that he is -behind the corner and request an explanation.” - -“Yes?” - -“If he can explain, well and good. You can refer the whole matter to me. -But if he can't--there you are.” - -Corrigan pondered. “That seems fair. I'll talk it over with my father. -I'm much obliged to you, anyhow.” - -“Not at all.” - -A reaction had followed the fire and the long strain leading up to it. -They all felt it. Crosman, wearied by the comparative idleness that was -forced upon him, was irritable and inclined to chafe against the steady -disapproval of Mrs. Higginson. Halloran was plunged in gloom most of the -time. And to add to the depression Captain Craig decided to give up his -post. - -“You see, Mr. Halloran,” he said, in speaking of it, “you maybe wouldn't -think to look at me that I'm a great-grandfather, but I've known it by -my feelings since the fire. I didn't stand it very well--the running and -the wet and all; and my eyes have been bothering me, too. Jennie and me, -we've been talking it over, and she thinks I ought to just quit now, and -look after the garden, and take it kind of easy. There's no room for us -old fellows now, anyhow. A man had better make up his mind to it before -he gets crowded out. I've saved a little something--enough to live on, -and I've got my place, and I guess that's enough for anybody.” - -“You're mistaken, Captain. There's not a better man on the Lakes, and -I'm glad to tell you so. The _Number One_ is yours as long as you'll -keep her.” - -There were tears in the Captain's eyes. “That's all right--I'm obliged -to you. But I guess it's time to quit now while we're shut down and you -have a good chance to look around for somebody else. There's only one -thing that's been bothering me. Do you think you're going to have a -place for George?” - -“I'm sure of it. He's going to make a good man before he gets through -with it.” - -“I'm glad you think so. I must tell Jennie--it'll please her. And -say--here's a little something--George says he's owed you three-fifty -for a long while. He's managed to save it up now, and he wanted me to -hand it to you.” - -Halloran had to think. “Oh, that--that's nothing--I couldn't take it.” - -“If you don't mind--I think you'd better. And I--I want to say, Mr. -Halloran, before I quit you, that it's been a great thing for Mr. -Higginson to have you here. I guess there ain't no doubt you've saved -his business for him.” - -This brought the gloom back to the Manager's face. He shook his head. - -“That's all right now--I've watched the business some. It's your nerve -and grit----” - -“Captain,” Halloran broke in bitterly, “I------” - -“I guess I know what you mean. You've been carrying a load that would -have broke most men, and now you're sort of unstrung.” - -Halloran shook his head again. “Damn the load.” He looked around the -office. Crosman was out; the door was shut. “Captain, I've lost the girl -I want to marry, for want of nerve.” - -“Are you sure?” - -He nodded. - -“Is she married already?” - -“Oh, no; she's gone away.” - -“Where?” - -“Down East. She didn't leave word.” - -“And she ain't married anybody else? Then she ain't lost. Why don't you -go after her?” - -“I know. I've thought of that.” - -“Thinking 'll never do it. You better go.” Halloran looked up and caught -the Captain's eye. It was beaming with good-will, and it opened to him a -glimpse of a new world. “I believe I will,” he said, holding his breath. - -“You can get the eleven o'clock on the Père Marquette and connect with -the Central Limited to-night at Detroit. I'll take care of the fire -department while you're gone.” - -“Will you?” He caught at the Captain's hand. - -“Sure. You'd better move right along------Lord, yes, there's only -twenty-five minutes, and it'll take you most of that to get home and -pack. I'll call up the livery and have a carriage go right up after -you.” - -“Good. Tell Crosman I've been called East.” - -“I'll see to everything. Good-by. And say, don't hurry back. Wire your -address, and if we need you we'll let you know. Good-by. Good luck.” - -“Thanks. Good-by.” He was gone with a rush, leaving his desk open behind -him. - -It so chanced that on this morning when Halloran went plunging off to -seek his fortune, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow, in an equally uncertain frame of -mind, was fronting _his_. Matters were going awry down in Chicago. The -Board of Trade deal, thanks to the elation and consequent intermeddling -of the paid figurehead, was wobbling dangerously. And at ten o'clock, -while Le Duc was hearing sharp, straight-out words in the mahogany -office, the heads of nearly a score of Michigan lumber firms were -gathering in the city office of the Corrigans, not far away. Hard-headed -old fellows they were, most of them--men with slouch hats and unkempt -beards, men who wore high boots beneath their bagging trousers, and -swore as they talked and breathed. And there they waited for Bigelow, to -ask him where their money had gone and how he proposed to get it back. -At length he came. - -“Good-morning, gentlemen,” he observed, as he laid aside his coat and -stick and his silk hat. - -“Good-morning,” came from Corrigan, and “How are you?” from one or two -others. One graybeard murmured to a neighbour that he wished he'd a -known in the first place that Bigelow wore a silk hat. “You can't trust -a dude,” he muttered. - -“Well, gentlemen,” the managing director began, drawing his report -from his pocket, “I suppose a statement of what we have accomplished -will----” - -But young Corrigan couldn't wait. “Excuse me, Mr. Bigelow--and -gentlemen. I think we all know just about where we stand in this -business. And------” - -“One moment, Mr. Corrigan. It is usual------” - -“What I have to say is not usual, Mr. Bigelow. It's so important that it -takes precedence, to my notion. It concerns our existence as a working -body and our relations with you, sir. And this meeting can't go forward -until it has been laid before you, and you've had the chance to convince -us that what has been reported to me is untrue--that it is, as we should -hope, a malicious lie. Before we think of the question of going forward -or backward as a combination we must settle the question of our mutual -confidence as individuals. A shadow has been cast upon this confidence; -and you know, every man of you--” the graybeards, some startled, others -condescending, looked at him; Bigelow looked at him, too--“You know -that our whole structure must rest on complete confidence in the men we -choose to direct our affairs. If this is removed, we can't do business a -day.” - -“I should suggest, Mr. Corrigan, that what you have to say had better -come in the discussion that will follow the reading of the report. It -is the object of this report to answer in advance all inquiries, to tell -every fact about our work.” - -“You'd better wait, Harry,” observed a man in boots. “Let him read it.” - -“If this were a fact of our work it could wait, sir; but it ain't.” - Corrigan was warming up. “It concerns you, personally, Mr. Bigelow. -We have accepted your guidance so far because we believed you to be a -certain kind of a man, and to stand for certain principles in business. -We want to go on believing this, and we don't want to wait a minute, -now that we're all together here. I've been told that you're the real -operator of the big corner on the Board, that your money is in it, and -that the man named Le Duc has been put up so that your name wouldn't be -known. Is that so?” - -Every face in the room changed expression. The blood rushed into -Bigelow's. - -“If you've been taking our time to make wild charges against my -character------” - -“You aren't answering,” shouted Corrigan. “Tell me that. That's what I -ask.” - -“You'd better cool down a bit, Harry.” - -“No, Mr. Anderson, I won't cool down.” - -“See here,” said Bigelow, his voice rising with the others. “This has -nothing whatever to do with this meeting.” - -Corrigan leaned over the table and looked him keenly in the eyes. -“If you mean to withdraw here and now, Mr. Bigelow, to dissolve this -agreement, then I'm with you; it has nothing to do with it. But if you -mean to go on as our managing director, then you've got to answer that -question.” - -The other men looked at one another. “I guess that's fair, Mr. Bigelow,” - observed the man in boots. “So long as Harry's sprung this on us we -wouldn't any of us feel quite easy about it.” - -“Well, sir, is it true?” asked Corrigan. - -“I claim that this is impertinent.” - -“Is it true?” - -“I decline to answer. My private investments are simply none of your -business.” - -Corrigan sank back in his chair and drew a long breath. “There,” he -said, “that's all I wanted to know. I think you'll agree with me, -gentlemen, that we can't keep up these relations any longer. Suppose we -hear the report now.” - -It was half-past two when the door was opened and a score of heated, -hungry men came out for lunch. Bigelow had recovered and made a strong -fight, but the sentiment was overwhelmingly against him. The managership -had been offered to Corrigan; he had declined and stood out for -dissolution on the ground that during the dozen or fifteen years that -remained before the timber should be all cut out there was room for them -all without any damaging competition. And so before they broke up the -lumber agreement was abrogated. And in a few days, as soon as matters -could be settled, the lumber world would know it. - -Eastward sped Halloran, on to the Hudson, on up the crooked mountain -railroad to the junction village, on up the wagon road behind a team -of crawling white horses; reaching at last the house perched on the -mountainside, lost in billows of autumn flame. Yes, Miss Davies was -still there. The wife of the proprietor had seen her shortly before, -walking up the trail behind the house. - -He found her standing in a tangle of late blackberries, hatless, her -sleeves rolled to the elbow, reaching up to break off a crimson maple -branch. She heard him crashing through brake and bramble, and turned. He -did not see that she changed colour, she was so browned by the mountain -sun--but she was startled. She did not move, but stood, holding the -branch and looking at him without a word. - -“How do you do?” he said, shaking hands. “Hardly expected to see me, did -you?” - -“No. This is a surprise. When did you get here?” - -“Just now.” - -“Well, you're just in time to walk back with me.” - -He was disappointed. “Don't go right down. I came because they told me -you were here, and now it would be too bad not to see you.” - -“I'm going to play tennis, and there's only an hour before dark. Here, -you may carry these branches. Aren't they beautiful? You walk ahead so I -can look at them.” - -There was no other way; the trail was narrow, and with the great bundle -of branches in his arms he had all he could do to pick his way down the -rocky path. Near the house they were met by a big young man in flannels, -carrying tennis rackets. He looked curiously at Halloran, and passing -him, walked with Miss Davies. - -“Mr. Halloran,” she said, “Mr. Green.” - -Mr. Green bowed and said, “How are you?” with an eastern drawl. And that -was the last Halloran saw of her until supper time. He might have sat -on the veranda and watched the game, but he did not; instead, he walked -down to the road, and in the same plunging mood that had brought him -East he went swinging up the valley. The bold splashes of crimson and -yellow and golden brown on the long slopes, brought sharply out by the -somber pines; the fringe of Queen Anne's lace along the road, and the -masses of goldenrod and mint; the hum of millions of bees; the tumbling -brook a rod away, with its pebbly ripples and dark pools; these he -hardly saw. Even the Wittenberg, standing rugged against the sky, its -crown of balsams now a trembling, luminous purple under the shafts of -the setting sun, could not move him. - -After supper, by some managing, he caught her alone in the hall. “Come,” - he said, “let's go outside.” - -She hesitated, but yielded. “I can't stay out but a minute. It's too -cold.” - -“Get a wrap or something. If you bundle up we could sit awhile. It's -stuffy in there.” - -“Oh, no, I can't. We're going to play euchre to-night.” - -“We----” - -“Oh, everybody. That means you, too, of course. Come in and let me -introduce you. The people are jolly, most of them. There are always some -queer ones, you know, at a place like this.” - -“But, Margaret, I didn't come to play euchre. I don't want to know these -people. Can't you see? I came on purpose to see you, and to talk to you. -Get your things and take a walk with me. Never mind the euchre.” - -“Oh, no, I couldn't do that. The people--it wouldn't look right.” - -“What do we care for them?” - -“No, I mustn't. We had really better go in.” And in she went, with -Halloran, crestfallen, following. - -After an insufferable evening he tried again to see her, and again it -was accomplished only by maneuvering. - -“Margaret,” he said, when he had drawn her into the corner of the -emptying room, “tell me what it means. What's the matter?” - -She looked at him and slowly shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied; -“nothing at all.” - -“Did you get my letters?” - -She nodded. - -“I didn't know--you didn't answer. Why didn't you write, Margaret?” - -No answer. - -“Won't you tell me? I've come a long way to ask you.” - -“I--why, I just couldn't.” - -“Didn't you have anything to say to me?” - -“No, I don't believe I did.” - -“And have you nothing to say to me now?” - -A long, long silence. Then this from Miss Davies: - -“Oh, please don't now. It's very late--and I'm tired.” - -“But when am I to see you?” he broke out impatiently. - -“Oh, there will be plenty of time. But not to-night--please. You aren't -going away before morning.” - -“I am here only for a day or so. I--I am down East on--on business.” He -had quailed again. “I just stopped off here.” - -“Oh, you just happened to come?” - -“No, I meant to come--I had to, I couldn't stay away. It's a long time -since I've seen you, Margaret. - -“I know. You called in Evanston, didn't you? Mrs. Bigelow wrote me that -you had taken George. How is he doing?” - -“Well. But when can I talk with you--alone somewhere? I can't say -anything when you seem so hurried.” - -“Why--to-morrow, perhaps.” - -“To-morrow morning?” - -“No, not the morning. I'm going to climb the Terrace.” - -“Why not drop that and come with me?” - -“I can't. I promised Mr. Green. He's getting up a party. You--you might -come along.” He shook his head. There was another pause. “Margaret,” he -said then, “who is Mr. Green?” - -“He's a Boston man.” - -“Is he--is he----?” - -Some one was looking for Miss Davies. “She's in the card-room, I think,” - said a voice. - -“Here I am. I'll be there directly.” - -“Wait, Margaret. Do you plan to get back for lunch?” - -“Yes--I don't think we're going to take any with us.” - -“Then I'll order a carriage for two o'clock, and we'll drive.” - -“Well----” - -“Of course”--and every word he uttered sounded like “Mr. Green--Mr. -Green”--“of course, if you'd rather not------” - -“Oh, no--thank you very much. I'd enjoy going. At two, did you say?” - -She was gone; and Halloran went outside and paced the veranda, alone -with a cigar. His regular footfall sounded for a long time--during two -cigars, in fact; and the thoughts he finally carried to bed with him -were not the sort to put him into a condition for the diplomacy the -morrow was to demand. In the morning, long before daylight he was up and -dressed. He breakfasted late to avoid the climbing party, and from his -window he watched them start up the road. He saw Green take Margaret's -jacket and tie the sleeves through his belt. An annoying fellow he -was with his easy manners, his faultless clothes, his calm reserve. He -grated on Halloran; he reminded him of his own blunt western way; he -forced him to recall again those rough antecedents of his. And that -Halloran was keen enough to recognize the difference, indefinable as it -seemed, aggravated matters. For an hour or so he sat in the library and -tried to read, but failed. He thought a little fresh air might fix him -up, and he went out for a six-mile tramp up the Panther Kill, through -the ravine where the rock walls shine with moisture, and the trout lie -deep in the pools below the falls, and the trees mat closely to shut out -the day; but this was worse than the book. He came back over a spur of -the Panther Mountain and here he had his first occupation of the day, -scrambling up the ledges, fighting through the brambles, placing his -feet carefully on the treacherous moss-covered rocks; here drawing -himself by a finger grip up a sheer precipice, there elbowing up a -chimney. - -He reached the top of the ridge and plunged down through the forest. He -saw a clearing ahead, and, pushing on, found the whole valley spread out -below, the stream splashing and glittering in the sun, the white road -winding out here and there from the shelter of the trees, and all the -tumbling mountain land blazing with colour. To the south towered the -Wittenberg, to the north lay the peaceful slopes of North Dome and Mount -Sheridan. He was knee-deep in fragrant mint, and surrounded by droning -bees. A look, and he was crashing on, covered with thistledown from the -tangle of brush. It was a pleasure to jump the great hemlock logs that -the tanners had left to rot thirty years before. Once a birch of six -inches diameter snapped off short under his hand and gave him a tumble -and a roll down the slope. He got up, shook out his joints and went on -with a laugh, chasing a porcupine that lumbered off and tried to hide -its head under a stone. And when at last he ran out into the upper -meadows behind the house he was no longer thinking of Green. - -But at noon the climbing party did not appear in the dining-room. At two -o'clock, when the carriage appeared, there was no sign of them. At three -the horse was still waiting and Halloran had gone back to his cigars. -At half-past three he called the boy and ordered him shortly to take -the horse back to the barn. At four the party, disheveled, flushed with -exercise, laughing merrily together over the little jokes and incidents -of the climb, came wearily up the walk. Halloran stood on the -veranda and watched them as they climbed the steps. Margaret met him -half-defiantly, half-apologetically. - -“I'm sorry,” she murmured, as she passed him, the last of the party; -“Mr. Green did take some sandwiches in his pockets. We--we went on about -half way up the Wittenberg. I must change my things now; but if you -still want to go I can be ready in a few minutes.” - -“No--I've sent the horse back. You couldn't go now--you need a rest.” - -“Well”--with a little toss of her head, “that's just as you like. We can -go to-morrow, perhaps.” - -“I think I shall have to go away this afternoon.” Here he was, forcing -her to speak out and urge him; and she had no notion of being forced to -speak. - -“Oh, must you go so soon?” - -“I think so.” - -“That's too bad. You've not much more than got here. You really should -have gone with us; we had a glorious climb. I'm all torn to pieces.” - She put out a shoe that was cut and tom in two or three places. “I never -worked so in my life before.” - -Halloran was thawing rapidly; he could not stand there looking at -her and still keep all his resentment. And when she said, with an -embarrassed little laugh, “Well, I simply must go in,” he delayed her: - -“Margaret, wait just a minute. Haven't you anything to say to me. It all -rests with you. If you would tell me--to stay----” - -He could not get further. She looked at him, then away. “Why--why--if -you------ Of course you know best how much time you have.” - -He turned away impatiently, and she hurried into the house, pausing only -to add, “I shall be down in a few minutes.” - -But when the few minutes, lengthened to half an hour, had passed, and -she had come down and looked with a curious expression into the parlours -and out about the veranda, Halloran was half a mile away, driving -rapidly toward the railway station in the junction village. And not -until the evening did she know certainly that he had gone. - -One Père Marquette train reached Wauchung early in the morning, to -connect with the car-ferry across the lake; and this was the train that -brought Halloran back home. Walking up the street, bag in hand, he met -the Captain, who was getting home from the yards for breakfast. Craig -stopped when he saw him, and waited. They shook hands with only a -greeting, but the Captain's shrewd old eyes were searching Halloran's -face. - -“Well, Mr. Halloran, we weren't looking for you quite so soon.” - -“I've taken the best part out of a week. I couldn't stay longer than -that. I'll see you after breakfast and go over things. No news?” - -“No; everything's lovely. But say, Mr. Halloran, how about it?” - -Halloran shook his head and would have hurried on. - -“Pshaw, now; it wasn't no, was it?” - -“Not exactly.” - -“Well, say--then maybe it's all right.” - -“It's nothing, Captain--worse than nothing.” - -“You don't mean--you ain't telling me you've come back without either no -or yes?” - -Halloran made no answer. He simply wanted to get away. - -“Mr. Halloran, I didn't think it of you; honest, I didn't. Say, now,” he -reached down and caught hold of the bag, not heeding Halloran's protest, -“let's step back this way. There hasn't a soul seen you--not a soul.” - His eyes swept the street. “Just step along a little quicker. The early -train 'll be pulling out before long, and you can pick up some breakfast -at Reed City. I'd take you home with me--Jennie'd never peep--but I'm -afraid some of the boys might be around when you come out, and anyhow -you'd have to wait till the later train, and when you come to things -like this time's worth saving. I guess prob'ly there's some other fellow -hanging around down there these days and you've gone and given him a -cool two days' start of you--you've just handed it to him. Now you get -right back by the fastest train you can make. There's a good many things -you know a heap more about than I do, but I guess maybe women ain't one -of 'em.” - -They reached the station, Halloran walking moodily without a word. At -the edge of the platform he turned. “Captain, do you really think I -ought to do it?” - -“My boy, you've got to do it. You ain't going to lie down here, are you? -And that's what it means if you don't. There's your train waiting there. -You get right aboard before anybody shows up to ask questions. Good-by; -good luck to you.” - -Halloran got aboard, moody still; pulled up his collar, pulled down his -hat, slid down low in the seat, and fixed his eyes on a worn spot in the -back of the seat ahead. And when the train pulled into Reed City he was -still gazing at the worn spot. - -The invigorating autumn air still held in Woodland Valley. Halloran, -finding that the sleepy white horses and their driver were likely to be -delayed in the village, threw his bag under a seat and set out on -foot, following the road up through the notch by the bronze patches of -cornstalks. He caught up a handful of young winter-green and munched it -as he tramped. There was a lift in the air, and he threw open his coat -and walked with a swing. - -At the house he asked for Miss Davies and was told that she was in her -room, so he wrote a line in the library and gave it to a maid to take to -her. - -She came in a moment. - -“Get your things, Margaret,” he said; “let's go outside.” - -“But--when did you come?” - -“Just now. I walked up. I've been out to Wauchung since I saw you the -other day, but there was no use trying to stay there. You see--what I -said about being down here on business was all a fib--I was afraid to -own up.” - -“Afraid,” she stood looking at him, with such a peculiar expression that -he feared another delay. - -“Never mind now; I'll tell you all about it when we get out. I want to -walk up to the blackberry patch where I saw you the first day.” She went -without a word for her things, still with that odd, sober expression; -and in a few moments they were walking up the path toward the lower -slopes of the mountain. - -“You--you said you had been to Wauchung?” she remarked by way of -breaking the silence. - -“Yes. I stayed there about twenty minutes. You see--I can laugh at it -now, but I couldn't then--I've been sort of a fool. When I wrote those -letters and you didn't answer, and then when I went to your house and -found that you'd come down here without a word to me, I was all broken -up, and my nerve just left me. And then finally I did manage to get down -here, and you didn't seem very glad to see me, and I don't doubt -I was jealous of the Green fellow. I had forgotten then that after that -night in Evanston--that when you had once let me know what you let me -know then--you never would change. You see, I know you better than you -think, Margaret. I've seen since that it was my fault--that I've been -expecting you to say things it was my business to say for myself--and -that there couldn't anything but little misunderstandings come between -us after--after that. And--and------” - -He paused to look at her. She would have liked a broad hat, a sunbonnet, -anything that would have shielded her face from him, but her little tarn -was merciless, and she could only study the path. Another moment and he -had to fall behind her. - -“Well, I guess that's all there is about it, Margaret. I was a fool, but -I'm not a fool any longer. Here we are, where I saw you. Let's sit down -on this log.” She slipped to the ground and deliberately faced away from -him, looking off at the tumbling slopes of Cross Mountain. But he came -around to the other side. “Now, Margaret, I've told you once, and you -know all I could say without my telling you again. I love you: that's -all. I can't go on any longer this way. I can't live without you--I've -tried it--it's no use--so why can't we understand each other right now, -and stop this playing at cross-purposes, and just be happy! You--you're -all that I want in this world, Margaret--everything--everything.” He -was leaning forward, playing nervously with a thorny twig and eagerly -searching her face. “Tell me, Margaret--tell me if you will come right -now into my life and make it worth something. I've been working day and -night for other people--now I want to work for you. I want to see if -I can't make a home for you--if I can't make you happy. When I've been -working the hardest I've wondered, a good many times, what was the use -of it all--what good it would do me if I should succeed, and make a lot -of money and direct a lot of men. There's a passion for money, and -there's a passion for power--I know a good many men that have one or the -other or both of them--but one thing I've learned this year, Margaret, -is that neither could ever fill my life and make it what I want to make -it. Nothing, nobody but you can do that. Money and power mean worse than -nothing to me unless they are means toward making you happy. That's what -I want to do, Margaret, if you'll only give me the chance. Will you?” - -There was a long, long time before she could do more than look off -at the cloud-shadows floating up the opposite mountainside. They sat -motionless; Halloran's hand had dropped from the twig; and the wonderful -silence of the mountains wrapped them about. She wondered why he did not -go on; he waited, breathless. She half turned; he caught her hand and -gripped it with a nervous grasp. Her eyes sought the shadows again, -wavered, were drawn, slowly, in spite of herself, to his face. And then -he had her in his arms. - -Oh, the glory of the painted mountains, the joy of the world about them! -A hawk circled overhead, flew whistling off and lost himself in the -forest. The squirrels and chipmunks, peering out from tree and rock, -recalled their own young days and whisked away. The bees alone kept them -company, but bee-workers have no time for love-making. And all those two -knew was that the world was young and the world was many-tinted; that -the sky was blue-and-white above; that all, everything, was theirs -forever, in this world and in the world to come. - -“Dear girl,” he murmured, with his lips at her ear, “there is no mistake -this time? This is for always?” - -Before the words were spoken her arms were around his neck, her lips -were close to his, her heart was beating against his own. “Always,” she -was repeating with him--“always--always!” - - - - -CHAPTER VII--Three Announcements - -When they reached the house, a little late for dinner, they found a -telegram for Halloran on the mail-rack. Margaret started at the sight of -it. “What is it, John? What does it mean?” - -He read it, then looked at it gloomily. “I suppose I ought to be glad,” - he said. - -“Is it good news? I never can wait to see what's in a telegram.” - -He handed it to her. “I don't know whether you can make anything out of -it. It is good news--it's what I've been hoping for for months. And now -I'm sorry.” - -“_Price has risen_” she read. “_Understand that combine is broken. -Crosman_. What does that mean? What price? And who is Crosman?” - -“I'll tell you all about it after dinner. I'm going to run up now and -throw my things together. I shall have to take the evening train.” - -“Oh--John!” - -He could not reply; but with a quick look around the halls he took both -her hands. - -“Don't go, John. Why, it's------” - -“I know, dear. It hurts--but I must.” And then, afraid of that -unmanageable little imp within him that had a way of taking the reins -now and then, he only managed to add, “I'll pack now so we can talk -after dinner,” and bolted upstairs. - -After a hasty dinner he found her waiting with her coat and hat on. “I'm -going to the station with you,” she said. “Mother thinks it will be all -right, with Baker to drive. Now come out and tell me about it.” After -saying which, she herself began, as soon as they were pacing the veranda -arm in arm, on an entirely different subject. “I've talked with mother, -John. I--I suppose I ought to have waited--it was really your place, -wasn't it? But I'm so happy I couldn't wait. And dear old mother was so -surprised--I was excited, I guess, and I laughed a little, and------” - -“I wanted to see her anyway, before I go.” - -“You can't now, John. She's so tired and stirred up she has gone right -to bed. But--I don't think you'll find her very hard to talk with when -you do see her.” - -“Does she think she can give you up?” - -They were standing at the end of the veranda, and Margaret was leaning -back with both hands on the railing. She shook her head and looked -mischievously at him. “I don't know but I shall have to be a little -jealous of mother. I couldn't let many people talk about you like she -does.” - -Halloran had never seen her in such spirits. It was slowly coming to him -that this was neither of the Margarets he had known in the past. He had -never seen her so well, for one thing; and now, besides, she was happy. -And all the playful tenderness, the mischief, the devotion of her honest -heart were his. Was it a wonder, then, that she captivated him as never -before? That her fancy played about him, and led his wits such a mad, -happy chase that it was she, at the last, who had to tell him that the -carriage was waiting for them and that they really must go! And as they -rolled along toward the village--as the first mile-post gleamed in the -moonlight and slipped away behind them; as the rushing Panther Kill -roared a moment in their ears and then, too, slipped behind; as they -passed the quarry and came slowly in sight of the red and green lights -of the railroad, Halloran's heart failed him. They were on the back seat -of the mountain wagon, deep in the shadow; she was in his arms for the -last time until--when? They were dropping into silence as the parting -drew near. - -“Margaret,” he whispered, “I've been thinking--I can't go to-night--it's -no use.” - -“No, John, don't go.” - -“We'll turn around--we'll go to-morrow night--you and your mother can -start then, too--we'll all go West together. I'll wire Crosman to begin -selling. Yes, we'll drive on to the station, and I'll send the message.” - -“I'm afraid, John, I couldn't get mother ready to go to-morrow. You -don't quite understand--it would unsettle her dreadfully to get ready -and go all in a rush like that. She has her mind made up for two weeks -more--and I'm afraid I couldn't shorten it to less than one. Stay a -week; it isn't much. You deserve a vacation. Mr. Crosman won't mind.” - -The little imp already had his hands on the reins; but at the sound of -the whistle, far up the Shandaken Valley, Halloran roused. “I don't know -what I'm thinking of, Margaret. They need me there. Good-by; don't say -anything--I'm afraid I'll stay. Good-by.” - -“Good--good-by, John. Write to me.” She saw him on the train; she walked -to the end of the platform to wave when his car passed; and then, deep -in the gloom of the night, she walked slowly back to the carriage. - -Halloran sent a message on ahead, and Crosman, all excitement, met him -at the station. - -“It's all over, Mr. Halloran,” he burst out, as they shook hands. “Mr. -Corrigan's been down here to see you about advancing prices to cover -losses.” - -“We don't need to advance prices. We haven't lost anything.” - -“Well--he only went back last night. He says he hopes you'll write him.” - -“I'll see to it. Does Mr. Higginson know?” - -“Only what Mamie could tell him. He wants to see you. I asked the doctor -about it, and he says you can go in if you have some good news for -him; if you haven't, you'd better stay away. I told him I guessed there -wasn't much doubt about that.” - -“I'll go over after supper.” - -“All right; I'll leave word so's they'll be ready. And say, Mr. -Halloran, there's another thing. I was going to talk to Mrs. Higginson -to-day about--about Mamie and me, but Mamie doesn't want me to. She says -her mother wouldn't listen to a word from me. And we've been talking -it over, and we wondered if you'd be willing to say a word for us.” He -hurried to add: “I know it's sort of a funny thing to ask, but we're -just up a tree. If I could see her father I could manage it, but it's -pretty tough to go on like this and feel all the while that she's down -on me.” Halloran pursed his lips. “It's Mrs. Higginson that you want me -to talk to?” - -“Well, no--not since they're going to let you see him. Now don't you do -it, Mr. Halloran, if you'd rather not. I know how------” - -“If I see a good chance I'll try to put in a word. You won't mind if I -go in now and wash up?” - -“No. Say, it's mighty square of you------” - -“Never mind that. I suppose I'll see you this evening?” - -After supper Halloran walked around to the Higginson home and was met at -the door by Mamie, blushing and smiling. - -“Come in, Mr. Halloran,” she said. “Papa's been impatient to see you. -You can go right up. Mamma asked me to excuse her to you. She isn't -feeling well.” - -Mr. Higginson, looking ten years older for his long sickness, was -propped up in an arm chair. He smiled eagerly at the sight of his -manager in the doorway, and held out his hand. “Come in, John,” he said. -“I'm glad to see you. Sit down. You've been having a little vacation, -haven't you?” - -[Illustration: 0303] - -“Yes--I've been East.” - -“I'm glad of it. You deserve it. Now I want you to tell me all about -things.” - -Halloran hesitated, looking at the white, wrinkled face and wondering if -there was yet strength behind it to go into the details of the business. -“It's a good deal of a story.” - -“But it's ended, isn't it? Mamie's right in what she tells me?” - -“Yes, it's about over.” - -“And we've won?” - -“I guess we have. There isn't any combine now.” - -“And Bigelow-----?” - -“Bigelow's broken. It was in the paper this morning.” - -“Broken,” Mr. Higginson repeated, half dazed. “I didn't think our fight -could break him.” - -“We didn't do it all. He's been punctured all around. I guess his Board -of Trade deal hit him the hardest.” - -“What's this I've been hearing about this great lot of lumber in the -yards--whose is it? I feel like Rip Van Winkle.” - -“It's ours. When the trust cut prices we bought in all we could get.” - -“But--but where did you get the money?” - -“From the National City.” - -“And you're going to sell now?” - -“We've begun already. It will just about cover our losses. I understand -Corrigan wants to raise prices a peg or so, but I've been thinking we'll -hold the advantage better if we refuse.” - -“You've had a fire, I understand?” - -“Yes--didn't amount to much--less than the insurance premium would have -cost us.” - -“Did you ever find out how it started?” - -“Yes--and no. It was done by a tramp. He claims he was smoking and fell -asleep. We put the screws on him, but couldn't get a word more than -that. They're still holding him, but I've about decided to let him go. -There may be something behind it, of course, but if he won't tell I -don't know who will. I hardly think it would pay us to push it any -further.” - -“No, I suppose not, so long as we're well out of it. Are you keeping a -close watch?” - -“Yes, I've put on an extra man since the fire.” While he was answering -these eager questions, Halloran had been looking for an opportunity -to open the subject that was uppermost in his mind. Now, dropping his -voice, he began: - -“There's one thing, Mr. Higginson---” - -But his employer did not hear. “Who was this Le Duc I've been hearing -about?” - -“He's Captain Craig's son-in-law. Bigelow put him up as his operator in -corn.” Again his voice lost its assurance. “I have something to tell--” - -“Craig's son-in-law. Strange I never heard of him.” - -“I didn't put it quite right--Le Duc married his granddaughter. Bigelow -was Craig's son-in-law.” - -“Bigelow!” - -“Yes--that makes Le Duc Bigelow's son-in-law. You see, the Captain's -daughter has been found in Chicago, and he's brought her back home. She -was divorced from Bigelow a good while back.” - -“Divorced from Bigelow!” - -It dawned on Halloran that he was stirring the old gentleman's brain -into a muddle, and he stopped. - -“I guess we won't go into it now, John--I seem to be a little tired. -It's strange--strange. More seems to have happened in these months than -in all the rest of my life put together. But didn't I interrupt you a -moment ago? What were you going to say?” - -Halloran had no more than started, in that same altered voice, than a -dress rustled behind him and Mr. Higginson broke in with: “Come in, my -dear. Here is John Halloran.” - -Mrs. Higginson, becomingly pale, a pink-and-white shawl drawn about her -shoulders, came languidly in and took Halloran's hand. “Don't stand,” - she said; “I heard your voice and thought I would come in for a moment. -I am hardly able to get downstairs yet, but I try to walk about a little -on this floor. Doctor Brown fairly orders me to keep very quiet, but I -feel sure that a little exercise is the best thing. How are we ever to -get about if we take no exercise? Don't you feel that draught, dear? -John, would you mind shutting the door? I have to be a little careful -about such things. I'm glad you've brought Mr. H. some good news. Doctor -Brown said it was the one thing that might help him. 'Tell Mr. Halloran -to come if he brings good news,' he said. 'If he doesn't, he'd better -stay away.' Well, we've had a pretty serious time of it here, haven't -we? I told Mr. H. he simply must get well--for what was to become of -Mamie and me if he didn't. We haven't seen much of you lately, John. Of -course, things have been rather broken up with my sickness, and Mr. -H.'s., but I am sure Mamie would have been glad to see you any time.” - -“John has been away,” said Mr. Higginson. - -There was a pause, and Halloran, seeing his opportunity, girded up his -courage and plunged forward. “It's been a pretty important trip to me,” - he began. This was clumsy, but it was go ahead or nothing with him -now, and he went ahead. “Since I went away--I went down to see -Margaret Davies, of Evanston; she has been staying down there, in the -mountains--and she has promised to be my wife.” - -The words were out. Mr. Higginson sat up straight in his chair and -stared at him. Mrs. Higginson leaned back and stared. Halloran could -only turn red. Finally, Mrs. Higginson, the first to recover, repeated -the name, “Margaret Davies! I've never heard any Evanston people speak -of her. Has her family lived there long?” - -“Yes, all her life” - -“Um--it's not a wealthy family, I suppose?” - -“I guess so. They have a fine old place on the Ridge.” - -Again Mrs. Higginson's tongue failed her, and she rose to go. “I hope -you won't mind if I tell Mamie, Mr. Halloran. She will be interested.” - -“Oh, no; not at all. It's not a secret.” - -“We are all very glad to hear it. It's rather a sudden affair, isn't -it?” - -“Oh, dear, no. It's years old.” - -“Years--indeed? I hope you'll do some very careful thinking. It is -asking a good deal of a woman to bring her here to Wauchung--a city -woman especially, with culture and refined tastes. I hope you aren't -making a mistake. It would be such a pity for her life to turn out -unhappily.” She went out; and Halloran, after fidgeting a moment, began -to think that the best thing he could do would be to go, too. But Mr. -Higginson checked him. “Sit down, John; sit down. So you're going to -be married? Well, I'm glad to hear it. Let me shake hands with you.” - Halloran was nervous and he rose again. - -“Wait a minute; I haven't said what I wanted to see you about yet. -There's a matter that's been in my mind a good deal while I've been -lying here, and I guess this is a good time to bring it up. I jotted -down some memoranda this morning--there on the table, those folded -papers. I wish you'd take them with you and look them over. I want your -opinion on them before we do anything about it.” - -Halloran took the papers, opened the first one, and ran his eye over it. -At the first words he started, flushed, muttered something, and looked -up, speechless with gratitude. “Why--why------” - -“That's all right,” Mr. Higginson interrupted. “Never mind giving your -decision now. Go home and think it over. If you see anything about it -that you think could be improved, talk it over with me the next time you -come around and I guess we won't make much difficulty over it. Higginson -& Halloran doesn't look quite so well as Higginson & Co. A shorter name -would look better. But we never did go in much for looks.” - -“I don't need to think over this, Mr. Higginson.” - -“Take it along; take it along. I guess I've talked enough for this -afternoon. I'm a little tired.” - -There was nothing to do now but to go. As he passed down the stairs he -saw Crosman and Mamie standing anxiously in the parlour doorway. - -“Did they say anything about our coming up?” said Crosman. - -Halloran stopped short. “By Jove!” he said; and then: “Say, I'm sorry, -but I clean forgot you. It comes to the same thing, anyhow; I never -could have said a word. I guess it's up to you.” - -He stood aside. Mamie looked at Crosman. - -“Well, say, Mamie, where is she?” - -“In her room, I guess.” - -“You go up ahead, Mamie, and find out if I can see her.” - -So with a dejected expression, Mamie piloting him, Crosman started up -the stairs just as Halloran left the house. - - - -CHAPTER VIII--Leveling Down - -Margaret and Halloran were married in the late spring. For their -honeymoon they went back to the mountains at the time when the apple -buds were bursting into billows of pink and white in hillside orchards. -The song-sparrows and robins sang for them as they drove up from the -village; the brook, boisterous with a burden drained from higher slopes -where the snow still lingered under northern ledges, brawled almost at -the carriage wheels; millions of violets dotted the roadside, and white -strawberry blossoms and the first daisies, and forget-me-nots that had -escaped from some old-time garden. The smell of spring was in the air, -the intoxicating sense of youth and health and happiness. And as they -rolled comfortably along behind the jogging white horses they could only -look at each other and draw in deep breaths of the fragrant, buoyant -air, and be glad. - -Their first climb was up to the blackberry patch, under the maples. As -they sat there on a well-remembered log, and looked out on the green -wonder of the opposite slope, where the cloud-shadows were mounting -as on that day of the autumn before, Margaret slipped her hand into -Halloran's. “Listen,” she said. - -Far back in the hollow of the mountain a winter wren was caroling, -welcoming them back to the highlands with all the melody in his little -throat. His neighbours took it up, and piped their shrillest; and all -along the slope chirped the dainty babel of welcome. - -“John,” she murmured. - -“Yes, Margaret.” - -“They can't send you any telegrams now?” - -“It wouldn't do them any good if they did. I've ordered the station -agent to hold all messages until I call for them, and I'm not going to -call.” - -She smiled; and again they were silent, listening to the merry strains -behind them and to the far-off sounds from the valley, and watching the -men at work in the fields below. - -We have followed them thus far, but now, in telling an odd incident of -this little journey, we take leave. One evening, at supper, some active -bodies at the house busied themselves in getting up an expedition to the -village. There was to be a “show” in the village hall. These things were -said to be great fun, and Margaret and Halloran were in the first wagon -that went down. A band of broken-down actors, the latest coon songs, an -elaborate silver table set to be raffled off--a number being given -with each and every ticket sold to the performance--these were the -attractions. It was hinted that the same silver set would probably -figure again in other years; for the raffle included all the towns along -the railroad, and the winning ticket seemed always to be held in some -other town. But the natives of the mountains were always glad to be -swindled, and silverware was not to be resisted. Small farmers, who -build shingled bay windows and buy cabinet organs before the rear of the -house is boarded up, fall an easy prey to these allurements. So the hall -was crowded, and the party found some difficulty in getting seats. - -At length the cracked piano began to jingle.. The janitor lighted the -lamps that served for footlights, and a voice, somewhere behind the -curtain, was heard singing. - -The giggling, chatting audience was hushed. The kerosene lamps smoked -and flickered unheeded. A village aristocrat, daughter of the general -storekeeper, with her gum-chewing escort, sat next to Halloran, -rapt with expectancy. The voice swelled out louder and louder, as it -approached the refrain. Margaret, finding the audience more odorous and -less picturesque than she had looked for, turned to suggest an early -departure, and was surprised to see her husband leaning forward, his -hands on the back of the chair in front, his eyes fixed on the stage. -There were signs that the curtain was to be drawn; and as the voice -swung into the refrain, “For Golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy, -dee-iddle-dee airy, ta-raddle-my-own,” the singer was disclosed, a -long-legged black-face comedian, in a gorgeous, if shabby, cake-walk -costume. Halloran muttered, “Well, I'm blest!” - -“What is it, John?” she whispered. - -“Don't you know him? It's Apples!” - -Sure enough, Le Duc, after a vain chase for the gold that glitters above -the corn-pit on the Board of Trade, had returned to the path that leads -to Shakespeare. The Bard was not quite within hail, to be sure, for -Apples had lost his place in the line and must begin farther back than -ever, but the road was still there. As they watched and listened, a -woman, also in black-face, joined the comedian; and they recognized his -wife. - -The next morning Halloran walked to the village after breakfast for a -talk with Le Duc, but the “company” had left by an early train. “I don't -know,” he said to Margaret when they talked it over later in the day; -“there's not much use being sorry for them. They'd have landed on this -level sooner or later anyhow--nothing could stop them. And he can't do -anything like the harm with his silver-set swindle that he could have if -Bigelow had succeeded in putting his deal through.” - -“I'm a little sorry for Lizzie, though. I used to think she might amount -to something. You see, John, I can't quite forget that if it hadn't been -for her and George we might not--maybe we wouldn't have come to know -each other so well.” They were walking in the orchard. As she spoke she -picked a cluster of apple blossoms and turned to pin them on his coat. - -“Perhaps not,” he said, looking down at her and smiling, “but I don't -know. Maybe we'd have landed on this level, too, no matter how we -started. I like to think so.” - -She looked up with one of the quick, shy glances he was learning to -expect; and as quickly looking down again, and lowering her head over -the blossoms, she murmured, “So do I.” - - -THE END - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Whip Hand, by Samuel Merwin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIP HAND *** - -***** This file should be named 54102-0.txt or 54102-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/1/0/54102/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -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. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. 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 Whip Hand - A Tale of the Pine Country - -Author: Samuel Merwin - -Release Date: February 3, 2017 [EBook #54102] -Last Updated: March 13, 2018 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIP HAND *** - - - - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div style="height: 8em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h1> - THE WHIP HAND - </h1> - <h3> - A Tale Of The Pine Country - </h3> - <h2> - By Samuel Merwin - </h2> - <h4> - New York: Doubleday, Page & Company - </h4> - <h3> - 1903 - </h3> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0018.jpg" alt="0018 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0018.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - <b>CONTENTS</b> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK I—BEGINNINGS</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_PROL"> PROLOGUE—The Young Man at the Stern </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—Low Life </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—George and His Troubles </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—The End of the Beginning </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> <b>BOOK — PINE</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER I—A Decision to Fight </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER II—Under Way </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER III—Tightening the Blockade </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER IV—Mr. Babcock Breakfasts Late </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER V—A Venture in Matrimony </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER VI—A Shut-down </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER VII—Halloran Goes to Chicago </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER VIII—The Question </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER X—A Letter </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XI—High Life at the Le Ducs </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XII—The Pine Comes In </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>BOOK III — THROUGH FIRE</b> </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER I—A Little Talk with Captain Craig - </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER II—Going to Headquarters </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER III—Mr. Babcock's Last Card </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER IV—Twelve, Midnight </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER V—The Meeting </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER VII—Three Announcements </a> - </p> - <p class="toc"> - <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER VIII—Leveling Down </a> - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - BOOK I—BEGINNINGS - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_PROL" id="link2H_PROL"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - PROLOGUE—The Young Man at the Stern - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> THICK, wet night - on the southwest coast of Lake Michigan a dozen years ago; a wind that - sweeps over the pitching lake and on over the dim white beach with a rush - that whirls the sand up and away. Trees are bending up there on the bluff. - The sand and the rain are in the air—or do we feel the spray from - yonder line of breakers, a hundred yards away? - </p> - <p> - And deep in a mudhole on the lonely road that skirts the bluff—the - four horses, fetlock-deep in the sticky clay, straining forward like - heroes, the members of the student crew in their oilskins throwing their - weight on the wheels of the truck—is the Evanston surf-boat. - </p> - <p> - The driver has pulled his sou'wester hat down on his neck behind and swung - the U. S. L. S. S. lantern on his arm; he stands beside the forward wheel, - cracks his long whip and swears vigorously. - </p> - <p> - “Hold on a minute, boys,” he calls over his shoulder; and he must shout it - twice before he is heard. “Whoa, there! Stand back! Now, boys, get your - breath and try it together. When I call——— Now. All - ready! Let her go!” - </p> - <p> - The men throw themselves on the spokes, the horses plunge forward under - the lash of the whip. A moment of straining—an uncertain moment—then - the wheels turn slowly forward, the horses' feet draw out with a sucking - sound, and the boat rolls ahead. The driver unbuttons his oilskins at the - waist and reaches beneath an under coat for his watch. They have been out - two hours; distance covered, two miles. Before him is darkness, save where - the lantern throws a yellow circle on the ground; behind him is darkness, - save for the white boat, the little group of panting, grunting men, and, a - long mile to the southward, the gleaming eye of the Grosse Pointe - lighthouse, now red, now white. But somewhere in the darkness ahead, - somewhere beyond the white of the breakers, a big steamer is pounding - herself to pieces on the bar. So he buttons his coat and shifts the reins - and swears at the horses. He seems to swear easily, this young fellow; but - he is thinking of the poor devils on the big steamer, lashed to the mast - perhaps, if the masts are still standing; and he is wondering how many of - them will ever ship again. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - A huge bonfire lighted up beach and breakers. Around it huddled a motley - crowd, students in rain-coats or sweaters, sober citizens and residents of - the north shore, fishermen, and all the village loafers. But the students - were in the majority and were making most of the noise. It was they who - had built the fire, raiding fences and wood-yards to send up a blaze that - should tell the poor fellows out yonder of the warmth and comfort awaiting - them on shore—if they should ever get in through the surf. They were - cheering, too, giving the college yells and shouting out inspiriting - messages—as if any noise below the sound of a gun or a steam - fog-horn could hope to be heard over the roar of the lake! But this was a - great occasion and must be made the most of. - </p> - <p> - Of course no such body of students could act in concert without a - recognized leader; and the young man who claimed the honour could be - distinguished at a glance. Now issuing orders to the foragers, now - mounting the pile to adjust with a flourish the top barrel and to pour out - the last can of kerosene, now heading the war-dance around the crackling - fire or leading the yells with an improvised baton, always in evidence, as - busy and breathless as though his labours had an aim—was a - long-faced, long-legged student. He wore a cap that was too small to hide - his curly chestnut hair. His face was good-natured, if flushed with the - responsibilities of his position. His rain-coat thrown aside, he stood - attired in a white sweater with a wide-rolling collar, and a pair of - striped trousers that fitted close to his nimble legs. - </p> - <p> - “Hi, there! Here they come!” - </p> - <p> - A small boy was shouting. He had been stationed on the bluff; and now he - was sliding down, using his trousers as a toboggan on the steep clay. - “Here they come!” - </p> - <p> - The news spread. “Here they come!” was passed from mouth to mouth. Those - who had gone out of the firelight, in order to get a glimpse of the hulk - that stood out dimly against the horizon, now came running back and joined - their voices to the cheer that was rising. - </p> - <p> - Yes, they had come. A Coston signal was burning up on the bluff; and half - a hundred pair of legs were running up the beach to lend a hundred hands - in getting a ton and more of surf-boat down the ravine road. The tall - young man led the way, thanks to the nimble legs, and called over his - shoulder as he ran: - </p> - <p> - “This way, boys! Everybody this way!” - </p> - <p> - The horses were taken out in a hurry and led off to the nearest barn. Long - ropes were rigged to the back axle, “everybody” laid hold, and then, with - the crew men still hanging to the spokes and the young driver leaning back - on the tongue to guide the forward wheels, the surf-boat went bumping and - lurching down the road. With a rush and a cheer she went, as if the fever - of the waiting crowd had got into the wheels, as if the desperate hands of - the half-drowned men out yonder were hauling them on—impatiently, - madly, courageously hauling them on. - </p> - <p> - On down the beach, the broad wheels plowing through the sand; on toward - the breakers that came running to meet them: into the water with a splash - and a plunge, until ankles were wet and knees were wet—then a halt. - The eight young men in oilskins bustled about the boat, their yellow coats - and hats glistening in the firelight; and the crowd stood silent at the - water's edge, looking first at them and then at the black-and-white sea - out yonder—and an ugly sea it was. But in a moment the confusion - resolved into harmony. The eight men fell into place around the boat, - lashed on their cork jackets, laid hold of the gunwales, ran her out into - the surf, tumbled aboard—and the fight was on. - </p> - <p> - It was a fight that made those young fellows set their teeth hard as their - backs bent over the oars. They did not know that this storm had strewn the - coast with wrecks; they did not know that the veteran crew at Chicago had - refused to venture out in their big English life-boat. And they did not - care. Too young to be prudent, too strong to be afraid, these youngsters - fought for the sake of the fighting; and they loved it. So they worked - through the surf with never a thought of failure, with never a thought - that the white waves might beat them back; and they shook the water out of - their eyes and watched Number Two, who was pulling stroke to-night, and - went in to win. And all the while the young man standing erect in the - stern, swinging the twenty-foot steering-oar, was swearing, letting out a - flow of language that would, as Number Two said afterward, have made a - crab go forwards. It was plain that he was enjoying it, too. - </p> - <p> - The fire was sinking; the drizzle was cold and penetrating. The little - groups down on the hard sand near the water were tired of straining their - eyes into the blackness. The moment of enthusiasm was past. The surf-boat - had slipped away like a dream—a moment of tossing against the sky, a - glimpse of set faces, a shout or two over the pounding surf, then the - lead-black lake with its white flecks, the lead-black sky, and the spot of - deeper black where the steamer lay. A shivering fellow brought an armful - of driftwood from a dry nook and threw it on the fire. The idea was good - and the others took it up. Soon the flames were leaping up again. - </p> - <p> - And now what more natural than a song! The bleached-out bones of a - forty-ton lumber schooner lay curving up from the sand; here mounted a - student, he of the white sweater and long legs, and the others crowded - around. - </p> - <p> - “All right, Apples; let her go!” - </p> - <p> - And they sang out merrily there, with the glare of the fire in their wet - faces and the wildness of the lake in their throats: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “Oh, my name is Captain Hall, Captain Hall!” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - A rush of wind carried the next words down the beach; but the last lines - came out strong: - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - “Hope to———you go to Hell! - </p> - <p class="indent20"> - Hope to——— you're roasted well! - </p> - <p class="indent30"> - Damn your eyes!” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - “Hi-yi!”—it is the small boy again. “There she is! There she is!” - </p> - <p> - “Where, boy?” - </p> - <p> - “Out there—off the breakwater! There—see!” - </p> - <p> - Again the straining eyes, again the lead-black of the sky and water. Is - that the boat, that speck of white away out, or is it a whitecap? Now it - is gone. Has the boat dropped into a hollow of the sea? Who knows! A white - speck here, another there, white specks everywhere! “Boy, you're - dreaming.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure he's dreaming. They haven't been gone twenty minutes. What's the - matter with you!” Yes, it is only twenty minutes; and there is a weary, - bitter hour yet for the poor devils before they may set foot on land. - Another song is the cry; and more wood—heap her up! Again Apples - mounts his grim perch—the head- and footstone of half a dozen - forgotten sailors—and marches the “Grand Old Duke of York” up the - hill, and marches him down again; and when he was up he was up, up, up; - and when he was down he was down, down, down; and when he was only half - way up he was neither up nor down; and the rain thickens; and the smoke - and flames run along parallel to the sand, so fierce is the wind; and the - poor devils out yonder call up what prayers they may have known in - childhood—and lucky the sailor who remembers how those prayers used - to go! - </p> - <p> - There is more singing and more watching; then, after a long while, the - boat is sighted. She is coming in from the north, making full allowance - for the set of the surf. As she works slowly nearer they can make out the - figure of the steersman and the huddled lot of crew men and sailors. The - fire is renewed again and a shout goes up. She hovers outside the line of - surf, then lifts on a roller and comes swiftly in to the sand, so swiftly - that the oars must be hauled in with a rush, and the crew must tumble out, - waist-deep, and catch the gunwales and heave her forward before the wave - glides back. - </p> - <p> - There is one man in the stem, rolling about between the feet of Number - Two. Even in that uncertain light, and bedraggled as he is, it is plain - that his dress is of a different quality from that of the sailors. - Bareheaded he is, and one can see the white in his hair and the wrinkles - on his smooth-shaven face. It seems, too, that he wants the physique of - his companions, most of whom are able, for all the exposure, to spring out - without assistance. The steersman, who has been watching him with some - anxiety, leans over and helps him out, and then, swinging him on his - shoulders, carries him pickaback up out of the water and toward the fire. - Word goes around that this is the owner of the steamer. - </p> - <p> - “Here, Jack,” calls Apples, bobbing up close at hand, “you're to go up to - the house on the bluff. They are making coffee for all the boys. Let me - give you a hand.” - </p> - <p> - The steersman makes no reply, but, as his burden protests that he can - walk, lets him down, and each young man takes an arm. In a few moments - they are all, rescuers and rescued, in a hospitable kitchen drinking black - coffee and crowding, with steaming clothes, about the range. The steersman - drinks a second cup at a gulp and looks around for his men. He is not - joining in the talk, for a heavy responsibility rests on him, but his eyes - have the blaze of excitement in them and his square jaw is set hard. His - white, drawn face shows that the work is telling. - </p> - <p> - “Come on, boys,” he says quietly. “Time for the next trip.” - </p> - <p> - Quiet falls on the room that was just now loud with talk. It continues - while the crew men toss down their coffee, hastily retie their cork - jackets, and file out into the night. The sailors have been exultant over - their rescue; but now they are reminded of the comrades out yonder, and - they fall into moody silence. - </p> - <p> - But after all, it is a great thing to be alive when one has been clinging - to a rope in a desperate sea with ugly thoughts to face. At any rate, - these men seemed to find it so; for, after a time, when doubtless the - white surf-boat was bobbing far out, one of the hundred white flecks on - the black lake; when doubtless the poor fellows who had to wait, old - Captain Craig with them, were still cursing and praying—and one of - them had wept foolish tears when they parted—they fell back into - talk. The drama had reached but the second act, and no one could say if it - was to be a tragedy, but the warm kitchen and the plentiful coffee, and - the thoughtless talk of the half-dozen students who had followed them in, - were not to be resisted. Within half an hour the banter and jokes were - flying fast. - </p> - <p> - The elderly man, whose name was Higginson, was sitting close to the range, - wrapped in a blanket. He found Apples at his elbow and spoke to him. - </p> - <p> - “What crew is this?” - </p> - <p> - “The Evanston crew.” - </p> - <p> - The man nodded and was silent, but after a few moments he spoke again. - </p> - <p> - “Who was that young man in the stem? Is he the Captain?” - </p> - <p> - “No, the Captain is sick. He is Number One.” - </p> - <p> - “What is his name?” - </p> - <p> - “Halloran—Jack Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n a mahogany - office high up in a very high building sat Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow. An - elaborate building it was, with expensive statuary about the entrance, - with unusually expensive mosaic floors on all of the fifteen or more - stories. A dozen elevators were at Mr. Bigelow's service, and a dozen - uniformed elevator boys to bow deferentially whenever he granted his brief - presence in the necessary actions of going up to his office or coming down - from his office—boys that were fond of remarking casually when the - great man had stepped out, “That's G. Hyde Bigelow.” A very expensive - building, in fact, such as best comported with his dignity. - </p> - <p> - For Mr. Bigelow was a rising man; and the simple inscription on the - ground-glass door, “G. Hyde Bigelow & Company,” already stood in the - eyes of a small quarter of the financial world of Chicago for unqualified - success. If a syndicate was to be floated, if a mysterious new combine was - to be organized, what so important to its success as the name of G. Hyde - Bigelow somewhere behind the venture—what so necessary in the - somewhat difficult task of making it plain that paper is gold, that water - is a solid, as the indorsement of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company? If - Bigelow invested largely in Kentucky coal lands, what more reasonable than - an immediate boom in Kentucky coal—and that men should speak sagely - on the street of the immense value of the new mines? If Bigelow went - heavily into the new-style freighters that were to revolutionize the - lake-carrying trade, what more natural than a rush in “new freighters,” - and who could know if the Bigelows should unload rapidly on an inflated - market? But the great man is speaking! - </p> - <p> - Before him, on the mahogany desk, were spread some papers—vastly - important papers, or they could never have penetrated to the Presence to - take up time of such inestimable value. “Time is money” is a phrase that - had been heard to fall from the Bigelow lips. Perhaps some one else had - coined this phrase years before; perhaps Mr. Bigelow himself might even - vaguely remember hearing it: what matters it! Did not old phrases fall - new-minted from his lips? Did not the minor earths and moons and - satellites that revolved about the Bigelow sun recognize in each - authoritative Bigelow utterance an addition to the language? And were - there ever such jokes as the Bigelow jokes? - </p> - <p> - Before him were the papers; beside him, in a broad-armed, leather-backed - mahogany chair, sat the junior partner, the “Company” of Bigelow & - Company, Mr. William H. Babcock. A youngish man was Mr. Babcock; a very - well dressed man with a shrewd, somewhat incredulous eye; a man who speaks - cautiously, is even inclined to mumble in a low voice; and who finds his - worth and caution recognized as a useful, if secondary, part of the - importance of Bigelow & Company. Lacking in the audacious qualities of - his senior, it would seem, but shrewd, very shrewd—not a man given - to unnecessary promises or straight-out declarations. And if Mr. Babcock - had a phrase, a creed, locked securely away in the depths behind that - quiet face, it was “Business is Business.” Business <i>was</i> business to - Mr. Babcock; and he had hopes, even a fair prospect, indeed, of himself - rising to a point where Time should be Money, thanks to the aid of the - Bigelow name. And in the part of those depths where the thinking was done, - the thought lurked, that if the time should ever come when - Business-is-Business and Time-is-Money should be combined in his career - (and everything about him tended to combination), Chicago would be too - small for William H. Babcock. - </p> - <p> - The papers were before Mr. Bigelow, and the great brain was grappling with - them; it being Mr. Babcock's part to weed out details and trouble Mr. - Bigelow only with the broader facts. - </p> - <p> - “And now, Mr. Babcock,” said the head of the firm, “how are we to arrive - at this?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Babcock leaned forward and mumbled a few sentences with the air of a - man habitually afraid of being overheard and caught. Mr. Bigelow's brow - drew together, in such a state of concentration was the massive brain. - History has not recorded the subject of these documents; whether it was - Kentucky Coal or New Freighters, or the booming town of Northwest Chicago, - or suburban street-railways, or one of the dozen or more growing interests - that absorbed at this time the attention and some of the money of G. Hyde - Bigelow & Company (to say nothing of the money of the Bigelow - followers), we may never know. For at the moment when the Bigelow brows - were knitted the closest, when the questions raised by the papers were - about to attain a masterly and decisive solution, an office-boy entered - the room—a round-eyed boy so awed by the Presence that he was - visibly impatient to deliver his message and efface himself—a boy - who was habitually out of breath. - </p> - <p> - “Lady t' see y'u, sir.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow turned with some annoyance. How often had his subordinates - instructed this boy to demand the card of every visitor and to lay it - silently on the mahogany desk. But, on the other hand, Mr. Bigelow made it - a point to rise above petty annoyances. - </p> - <p> - “Well, boy, what is the name?” - </p> - <p> - “Sh' wouldn' give 't, sir.” - </p> - <p> - The great man's expression changed slightly; it was as if he had suddenly - remembered something. He turned to the desk and fingered the papers for a - moment. - </p> - <p> - “We will take up this matter after lunch, Mr. Babcock.” - </p> - <p> - He spoke a shade more pompously than was his wont in dealing with his - junior. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Babcock bowed and went out. Then Mr. Bigelow turned to his - stenographer, who was clicking away by the window. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Brown, I wish you would go out to the files and look up all the Pine - Lands correspondence for me.” - </p> - <p> - The stenographer laid aside her work and went out. - </p> - <p> - And now Mr. Bigelow, once more bland and gracious, turned to the boy who - was holding fast to the bronze door-knob. - </p> - <p> - “Here, boy, you may show the lady in.” - </p> - <p> - Having said this, he bent over a letter and was so busy that he seemed not - to hear the woman enter. For some moments she stood there by the closed - door. Once she coughed timidly; and even that failed to reach the - attention of the much-absorbed man. But at last the letter was laid down - and Mr. Bigelow turned. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair that Mr. Babcock had just now - vacated. - </p> - <p> - But the woman, it seemed, preferred to stand. “Why have you come here?” - </p> - <p> - “I think you know why I have come.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow took up the letter again and regarded it closely. A great many - thoughts apparently were passing through his mind—thoughts not of - Kentucky Coal and New Freighters, but of a stately suburban home of - granite completed within the year; of a certain Mrs. Bigelow who was - rising rapidly toward the social leadership of her suburb, and was - carrying Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow into circles that he, with all his prestige - of a sort, could hardly have penetrated alone; of a certain dignified, - comfortable, downright conservative suburban church, where the Bigelow - money and judgment, new as they were in such surroundings, were - undoubtedly earning a place; and, lastly, of certain small Bigelows. Of - all these things thought Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he said at length, without raising his eyes, “what is it now? What - do you want?” - </p> - <p> - “If I had only myself to think of,” began the woman, speaking in a low - voice and with noticeable effort, “I should never come near you. But I <i>have</i> - others to think of, and I think you have, too. I have not come for money. - If I could do it, I should like to bring every cent you have given me and - throw it in your face.” - </p> - <p> - Rather unpleasant words these—unpleasant to Mr. Bigelow, at least. - Indeed, they seemed quite to disturb him, to drive him even toward - something that in a man of smaller reputation might have been called - brutality. - </p> - <p> - “See here,” he burst out, wheeling around, “how long is this going to keep - up? How many years more must I support you in idleness? There is a limit - to this sort of thing.” - </p> - <p> - It may be that this was not so much brutality as sagacity. It may be that - Mr. Bigelow had in mind certain steps that might relieve him from a - situation which was growing more and more annoying and disagreeable, and - that this was one of the steps. For such words as these—such a blaze - of righteous anger—should be very hard to answer in a man's own - office; hard at least for an unknown woman before the great G. Hyde - Bigelow. Even if the woman had come with vague notions that she was acting - within her rights, that the law which had severed her life from the life - of this man so long ago would support her now—what was she, after - all, but an unfortunate woman standing before a great man? - </p> - <p> - But there was a curious expression in her eyes: perhaps she was more - resolute than he supposed; perhaps simply she had reached a point in - wretchedness where such words fail of an impression. - </p> - <p> - “When I told you I should never come to your office, I did not know how - you would take advantage of me. I should not have come even now if I could - have helped it. I don't know if it will interest you to hear that I have - not had enough to eat this week.” - </p> - <p> - She was mistaken; Mr. Bigelow was interested. Indeed, he was beginning to - recover himself and to look down on the ill-dressed woman before him from - the proper altitude of G. Hyde Bigelow. As he looked down he told himself - that he was quite calm, that he was standing frankly and firmly, as became - him, on his proper footing as a prominent citizen. And such a sight as - this, an ill-dressed woman standing in this mahogany office and talking - about starvation, was really shocking. He felt that he must dismiss her, - must rid himself of her; but on the other hand he was really touched by - her distress. Mr. Bigelow leaned back in his chair and half closed his - eyes. - </p> - <p> - “How long has this been going on?” he asked, in a voice that showed signs - of leading up to something further. - </p> - <p> - She gave him a puzzled, indignant flash of her eyes and replied in the - same low voice: - </p> - <p> - “It is more than fourteen years.” - </p> - <p> - More than fourteen years—think of it! For fourteen years this woman - had been suffering for an error of judgment, the mistake of two deluded - years, the mistake of giving her life to the wrong man, and now had even - faced starvation because of it. So mistakes are punished in this world. - Mr. Bigelow, on his part, looking down from his great altitude, was - running over these fourteen years and recalling the mistakes of his own - that had brought this annoying visit upon him. He had been soft-hearted; - he saw it plainly enough now. In his effort to do right, to comply - voluntarily with certain nominal requirements which a less honourable man - would have easily evaded; in his effort to be kind to a foolish young - woman—and a very young woman indeed she had been at first—to - humour her childish notions of the facts of this real world—his - impulses had carried him too far, and she, of course, had taken advantage - of him. He should have known better. - </p> - <p> - “Hum! More than fourteen years,” he repeated, still sitting in his chair - and looking dreamily at a group picture of a certain Board of Directors - that hung above his desk. “Has it ever occurred to you to stop and figure - up how much you have cost me during these years—how many times I - have sent you large sums without a word? If you will think of it now you - will remember that I have asked no questions—that I have known - nothing whatever about your life and your acquaintances. I have not known - how real your needs were.” - </p> - <p> - He might have gone on to much plainer speaking, even to harshness (it - being necessary sometimes in dealing with such people), had not his - half-shut eyes strayed downward from the Board of Directors to her face. - What he saw there seemed to weaken his self-possession. And, for another - thing, it was certainly getting time for his stenographer to be returning - with the Pine Lands correspondence. It was really a rather awkward moment - for Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” he said abruptly, opening his eyes again, “there is no use in - prolonging this conversation. Tell me what you have come here for and be - done with it.” - </p> - <p> - It was so abrupt that she had to wait a moment and compose herself before - beginning in the same low tone: - </p> - <p> - “I told you I had not come for money, and I meant it. I am tired of - begging for my living. But it would cost you very little to help me to - some situation. If you will do this, I will try not to trouble you again.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow pressed his lips and beat a tattoo with his fingers. - </p> - <p> - “What kind of work can you do?” - </p> - <p> - “I couldn't take skilled work, I suppose,” she replied a little wearily, - “and I could hardly expect an office position—at my age. But I have - thought of going into a department store. I really ought to be able to do - something there.” Mr. Bigelow was fidgeting a little: he was thinking of - the Pine Lands correspondence. - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes,” he said, “I don't know but what that could be arranged. I will - speak to Murray of the New York store. He is employing hundreds of people - all the time, and I know he has difficulty in getting good ones.” - </p> - <p> - He finished with a wave of dismissal and turned back to his letter. But - the woman waited. - </p> - <p> - “You will see him to-day?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes”—rather impatiently—“I will try to see him this - noon.” - </p> - <p> - “And shall I come back this afternoon?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow leaned back again. - </p> - <p> - “No, I hardly think that will be necessary. Let me see———” - </p> - <p> - “I don't see how I am to know if I don't come back—unless you write - to me.” - </p> - <p> - He hesitated at this and, thanks to his hesitation, received a keen stroke - below his armour. - </p> - <p> - “If it is the writing,” she said, with quiet, bitter scorn, “you know I - have letters enough now.” Yes, she had, and he knew it: there had been - blue moments in his life when he would have given a great deal to get - those letters back—letters relating to money matters, most of them; - explanations why certain sums were still unpaid, perhaps; letters sent - back into another life, a life which had gone under Mr. Bigelow's feet as - he mounted to higher things. And she added: “You needn't sign your name, - if you'd rather not.” - </p> - <p> - Yes, it was time to close this interview. He was not enjoying it at all—was - even willing to concede a point in order to be rid of her. So he said - shortly: - </p> - <p> - “Very well, I will see him at noon and let you know by the morning - delivery if he has a place for you.” She turned to go but he detained her. - “Here—wait! I will tell him that you are a cousin of mine. Do you - understand?” - </p> - <p> - She made no reply to this, but simply went out as swiftly and silently as - possible. She was evidently as glad as he to be through with it. And Mr. - Bigelow, after glancing at the Pine Lands correspondence and after a look - at his watch, put on his hat and coat and left the office. It was not yet - his lunch time, but when bent upon a benevolent errand Mr. Bigelow would - hear of no delay; and recalling that Mr. Murray was usually on the point - of leaving the club when he entered, he was willing even to hasten his - lunch in order to make sure of a chat with him. - </p> - <p> - And chat they did, those two powerful, public-spirited ones, over their - cigars, of the questions of the day, handled as only masters of commerce - could handle them; until at length—this from Mr. Bigelow, lighting a - fresh cigar and speaking casually over his hollowed hands: - </p> - <p> - “By the way, Murray, I have a cousin who is in a bad way—husband - dead, and some children, and that sort of thing. I want to do a little - something for her if I can. Could you give her any work?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid the best place I could offer would be behind the counter in my - North Side store at three dollars a week or so.” - </p> - <p> - “She'd be grateful for anything. It's a matter of keeping alive.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Murray was always glad of an opportunity to oblige Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “Send her around, with a letter, and I will do the best I can for her.” - </p> - <p> - And thus did Mr. Bigelow free himself from an entangling alliance. He had - now given the woman an opportunity to prove her worth; if after this she - should stumble into dark ways, there would be only herself to blame. It - had cost him considerable effort, to say nothing of his time; but had it - not been worth while? - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—Low Life - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>ear Mr. Halloran: - Won't you come down to the Settlement Friday evening? The young men's - class and the girls' class are going to entertain themselves, and Mr. - Appleton Le Duc has promised to help them. I want to have another talk - with you about George. We have heard nothing from him for a week, and I am - afraid he is in trouble. After such encouragement as he has given us I - don't like to let go of him. - </p> - <p> - “Be sure to come if you can. - </p> - <p> - “Very sincerely yours, - </p> - <p> - “Margaret Davies.” - </p> - <p> - The above note accounts for the presence of Halloran and Le Duc (he of the - nimble legs) in a suburban train, on that Friday evening, bound for - Clybourn and the Settlement. A few seats behind them sat Miss Davies, - escorted by Mr. Babcock, a young business man who seemed to be going in - heartily for charity work at this time. Le Duc was talking earnestly with - Halloran. Apparently a momentous question had arisen in his life, and the - young man beside him, who had had plenty of experience in earning his own - living, who could steer a life-boat in a boiling sea, whose generalship - alone, it was conceded by one party in college, had won the Chicago game - that fall, was, he felt sure, the best counselor to be found in the - difficult task of guiding a life straight toward its destiny. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know another fellow I could come to with a question like this, - Jack; but you understand these things; you know life. You've learned - things already that the rest of us spend the most of our lives finding - out. Now what would you say—how far do you think a man ought to go - in sticking to the idea of an education?” Le Due's “education,” for - several years now, had consisted of the study of elocution, with an - occasional peck at English Literature or the French language, and a few, a - very few, disastrous examinations. “I've got an offer to quit college - right now to go in as second comedian with the Pooh Bah Company. They - offer thirty dollars a week to begin with, with every prospect for a - future. It is a rising company, you see—a sure thing. They are as - safe as the First National Bank. If that were just the work I wanted, I - couldn't do better.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran was sitting back with his hat down on his forehead, listening - conscientiously, but losing a word now and then, thanks to the roar of the - train. - </p> - <p> - “You see, old chap, I set my mind on Shakespeare when I first came to - college. I decided then it would be Shakespeare or nothing with me. A - man's got to have a goal, you know; he's got to aim high or he will never - get anywhere; and my goal has been Shakespeare. But the question is just - this: Ought I to give up this offer, when it may be my chance to get a - good start on the stage? I might be able to work up into Shakespeare by - keeping at this for awhile, and making a professional acquaintance, and - saving up money. Men have done it, you know. What do you say?” He - evidently really expected an answer, so Halloran gave it to him. - </p> - <p> - “I am afraid you'll have to decide that for yourself, Apples. If you care - enough for first-class work to stick it out in college and then take your - chances, you ought to do it: if you don't, take this. That's all I can - say.” - </p> - <p> - With which casual conversation did an evening begin that later promised to - influence considerably the lives of several members of the party. - </p> - <p> - They found a crowd of ragged boys and girls at the Settlement. Le Duc was - to “read” for them; but he found himself fairly eclipsed by the - performances of two of their own number, one a youthful dancer with a - wizened face and remarkably thin legs, named Jimmie McGinnis, the other a - dark-eyed girl, one Lizzie Bigelow, who sang some popular songs in a - really good natural voice. - </p> - <p> - This girl made an immediate impression on Apples. At the close of her - first song he stopped applauding long enough to say confidentially to - Halloran, “Remarkable what a lot of talent you find among these people. - That girl ought to be in the profession. Really a stunning girl—and - clever, awfully clever. Splendid! Splendid!” he exclaimed again, turning - toward her as she came into the hall, and applauding vigorously. - </p> - <p> - She laughed and shook her head, but made no reply. She evidently liked - applause. - </p> - <p> - “You must have studied—to sing like that,” Le Duc went on. - </p> - <p> - She flushed with pleasure, but only shook her head again and sat down on - the stairs to listen to the next recitation. - </p> - <p> - As Le Duc stepped out, bowing with his easy, good-natured smile, Miss - Davies saw her opportunity to speak to Halloran. At the beginning of the - evening she had talked a moment with Lizzie Bigelow, but with - unsatisfactory results as her troubled expression showed. She now led the - way to a sitting-room behind the stairs. For a short space they were - silent—this young woman who, with the buoyancy of youth, with - sanguineness hardly justified by the facts of the black city that was - pulsing around her, had plunged into its darkness the feeble light of her - hopes—and this young man who knew so well the difficulty of climbing - up from sloth and incompetency and vicious ignorance that he was willing - to help. He put his hands in his pockets and stood waiting for her to - begin. He liked to look at her, she was so earnest and unconscious of - herself; perhaps, too, because she was well worth looking at, with her - clear, delicate skin now a little flushed and the masses of brown hair - above her forehead. - </p> - <p> - “I wrote you,” she began, “that we have lost track of George. He was here - as usual a week ago Wednesday, but then he disappeared. Lizzie, his - sister, says they have no idea where he is; and I don't think she cares - very much. She says he can look out for himself, and that is more than - they can do for him at home. Now what are we to do?” - </p> - <p> - “Have you seen his mother?” - </p> - <p> - “No—not yet. She always rebuffs me. If she were more like our other - women it would be easier. I wanted to talk with you first, and see if we - couldn't think of some way to find him.” - </p> - <p> - “But we have no clue. She might be able to give us a hint. Even to learn - something about his loafing places would be a start—something to - work from.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose—if she would tell. She is proud, you know. But we must do - something. I can't leave that boy wandering around the city like this. The - first thing we will hear of him in jail, and after that———” - She ended with a shake of the head. - </p> - <p> - At a thought that entered his mind Halloran smiled slightly. “Have you - talked with Jimmie?” he asked. . - </p> - <p> - “Jimmie McGinnis?” She had to smile, too. - </p> - <p> - “He might tell something. One always knows what the other is up to. I - can't think of any other way.” - </p> - <p> - She looked earnestly at him as she asked: - </p> - <p> - “Will you try it—if I bring him here?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded, and soon she returned with him. - </p> - <p> - Jimmie looked from one to the other, his small eyes devoid of expression, - his inscrutable thin face as innocent as that of a sleeping baby. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down, Jimmie,” said Halloran, “Miss Davies and I want to talk with - you about George.” - </p> - <p> - Jimmie seated himself and waited respectfully, his thin legs dangling off - the floor, his hands clasped meekly in his lap. He was always willing to - be talked to—rather enjoyed it, in fact—was particularly fond - of moral lectures; had a keen little mind somewhere behind his narrow - forehead, and could bring himself to discuss moral questions with his lady - teachers, showing all the symptoms of an eager water-lily striving upward - from its dark bed toward the light of day. Miss Davies he understood - perfectly and really liked, in a way. She was good—and why not? Who - wouldn't be good with plenty to eat and wear, with fathers and mothers, - and grand suburban homes with real trees about them (he had been taken out - there once for some Fresh Air, on which occasion he had seen a cow for the - first time in his life). But he was a little afraid of Halloran, and - inclined to grow secretive in his presence. To sum him up, Jimmie was - already launched upon a professional career—he sold score-cards at - the baseball park—and he fully realized the importance of his place - in life; even hoped some day to be a manager and walk out to the players' - bench before the game in a checked suit, announce the battery of the day, - and toss out the new ball from a capacious pocket, a new ball in a red box - with a white seal around it. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Jimmie, do you know where he is?” - </p> - <p> - Jimmie shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir. I heard some one say he hadn't been around for a week.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran threw a quick glance at Miss Davies; but it was not too quick for - Jimmie. - </p> - <p> - “He has run off, Jimmie, and we want to find him. It don't make any - difference why he went. Anybody's likely to get into trouble now and then; - and I'm not going to ask any questions. But if he has lost his job or got - into trouble I think we could help him.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Yes, sir, I'm sure you could,” Jimmie replied gratefully; and what little - expression there was in his face said plainly enough, “Don't I know how - you have helped me?” And then he added in eagerness to assist, “I could - stop at the box-factory, if you like, and see if he ain't working any - more.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, I wish you would. Tell us about it Monday at class. That's - all.” - </p> - <p> - At this Jimmie got soberly down from the chair and went out, leaving Miss - Davies and Halloran to look at each other expressively. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what do you think?” said she. - </p> - <p> - “He is going straight to warn him. Something is the matter. We must try - his mother now. And we ought to do it quickly—before Monday.” Miss - Davies mused for a moment. “We could hardly get there to-night—we - might go to-morrow afternoon, when she gets back from her work. I will - arrange to have dinner here.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran nodded; and they returned to the hall. Jimmie was dancing again - when they reached the parlour door, to music by one of the resident - teachers who had volunteered to take the place of Miss Davies. Apples had - disappeared and Lizzie Bigelow also. Miss Davies looked around for them; - then, realizing after a moment that Jimmie's feet were not the only ones - that were stepping in time to the music, she glanced up the stairway. A - laugh from the upper hall and the fling of a skirt at the head of the - stairs brought a puzzled expression to her face. But the explanation came - in a moment. Just as Jimmie stopped dancing and was turning toward the - hall, Apples came running down the stairs, a cane in his hand, and after - him Lizzie Bigelow, laughing, nearly breathless, and with a heightened - colour. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Miss Davies,” Apples exclaimed with all his good-natured assurance on - the surface, “Miss Bigelow and I are going to do a cake-walk, and we want - you to play for us—a good, lively march, with a lot of jump in it.” - </p> - <p> - Miss Davies looked at him surprised, then at Lizzie; finally, in distress, - she turned to Halloran. But he found nothing to say. Before Miss Davies - could collect her wits and think of some excuse Apples was blundering on. - </p> - <p> - “Play the one you did for the boy—that'll do splendidly. We've been - practising up-stairs, and it goes mighty well. We'd better do it now, - before we get our steps mixed. Miss Bigelow says she'd rather do this than - the song she is down to sing—didn't you?” he added, appealing to - her. - </p> - <p> - She assented rather shamefacedly, and Miss Davies gave up. There was no - rule against cakewalks, and she herself had invited Le Duc to entertain - the boys and girls; so she concealed her dislike for this juvenile way of - overstepping boundaries and went to the piano. Halloran was downright - sorry for her, but he did not see what he could do.. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—George and His Troubles - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>alloran foresaw - that it might be late Saturday evening before Miss Davies and he could - return to Evanston, so he arranged with another member of the crew to - stand his watch from ten to midnight; and then, knowing nothing of what - might be before them, these two young people set out on their search for - George. - </p> - <p> - Picture a tenement far out on the North Side, one of thousands of - smoke-coloured buildings, somewhere on an obscure street that was - discouragingly like dozens of other streets. Without the tenement an - electric light (for it was six o'clock and dark on this autumn day) threw - its flare on an uneven cedar-block pavement, worn into ruts and holes that - had given up, hopeless of repair, to mud and filth; on obscure little - tailor shops and masquerade-costume shops, and dirty tobacco shops with - windows hung full of questionable prints; on an itinerant - popcorn-and-peanut man, who had stationed his glass-enclosed cart on the - corner and was himself sitting on the curbstone, the picture of disgust - with life; on a prosperous red-brick corner building, that shed light and - comfort from half a dozen broad windows, announcing itself by its - curtained inner door and its black-and-gilt signs to be Hoffman's sample - room. So much for the neighbourhood. Within the tenement, up three flights - of stairs, was an apartment of two rooms where lived Mrs. Craig with her - daughter and her son, who bore the name of Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - Lizzie was sewing: her mother, back home for supper in the intermission - between the work of afternoon and evening, was taking off her hat. - </p> - <p> - “Is the fire going, Lizzie?” - </p> - <p> - The girl shook her head without looking up. “How did I know you were - coming home so early?” - </p> - <p> - “It is six o'clock.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, how do you suppose I'm ever going to get my work done if I have to - make fires for you? Where's George, I'd like to know! That's his business, - anyway.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Craig, herself wondering where George was, went to the next room and - built the fire herself. - </p> - <p> - A few moments later Halloran knocked at the door, and Miss Davies and he - were admitted. And while Miss Davies was opening the subject, trying with - the utmost delicacy to obtain the confidence of this woman, trying to show - by simple, honest words how sincerely she and Halloran were interested in - George, another boy, a small, wizened-faced boy with thin legs, was hiding - in a doorway across the street, watching with keen little eyes for their - exit and pondering with a keen little mind on their probably next move. - </p> - <p> - Miss Davies was beginning to wonder if she had not overestimated the - difficulty of talking with Mrs. Craig. Or was it the present topic that - made it a little easier? For she had come now with no offers of food, or - coal for the fires; but only to talk about George, to see if she and the - young man with her might not, by giving their time and interest, make the - search easier. And the main difficulty seemed now to be that the woman - knew no more about it than they did. - </p> - <p> - “It was early last week,” she explained, speaking quietly, in a voice that - had been brought to a dead level by habitual restraint. “He went off to - work as usual, after dinner, and said he would be back to supper. I don't - know where he can be. He has never been a bad boy.” - </p> - <p> - Lizzie, now that so much trouble was going on about George, began to feel - unusually sorrowful herself—was even moved to tears, and had to go - into the other room and bustle about getting supper ready before she could - bring her feelings under control. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Halloran thought the best thing would be to go out and search for - him,” said Miss Davies. “And he thought you could help—:—” She - turned to him and finished by saying, “Won't you explain to Mrs. Craig?” - </p> - <p> - “Can you tell us,” he responded, “of some place in the neighbourhood that - George has been in the habit of going to—some place where he has - friends?” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Craig shook her head. “No; when he was not working he was almost - always at home.” - </p> - <p> - “But he surely had acquaintances. You see, Mrs. Craig, we must have some - place to start from.” - </p> - <p> - She thought for a moment. “No; so far as I know, there was only one man in - the neighbourhood who took the least interest in him. And he wouldn't know - anything about this. We have not lived here so very long———” - </p> - <p> - “Who is this man?” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Hoffman, on the corner. He has been kind to George, once or twice.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran rose, saying aside to Miss Davies, “I will speak to him and come - back here,” and went out. - </p> - <p> - He found a stout German behind the bar in the corner saloon who proved, - upon inquiry, to be Hoffman himself. He was a substantial sort of man, - speaking excellent English, and representing, if one could judge from the - neat, well-stocked bar, the clean floor, the geraniums in the windows, and - the general air of thrift and order, what he might have been pleased to - call a decent saloon. Halloran began without preliminary by asking Hoffman - if he knew George Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - The saloon-keeper rested both hands on the bar and looked across it, - scrutinizing him closely before answering. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, there is a boy of that name around here.” - </p> - <p> - “He disappeared from home last week and his family are worried about him. - I have been told that you might help me find him.” - </p> - <p> - Hoffman shook his head, still watching him closely. “No,” he said; “I know - nothing about him.” - </p> - <p> - “Has he been about here at all lately?” - </p> - <p> - “No; it is two weeks since I saw him.” - </p> - <p> - The honest German face had the word suspicion plainly written on it, - Halloran saw that he was not getting at the man at all, so he leaned on - the bar and explained himself. - </p> - <p> - “I have come from the University Settlement. George has been at class - there regularly until lately. His teachers believe in him and want to help - him. They are afraid now that he has got into trouble and is afraid to - come back. Do you know anything about it?” - </p> - <p> - For reply Hoffman asked: - </p> - <p> - “What is your name?” - </p> - <p> - “Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - “You come from the Settlement?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Have you seen Mrs. Craig?” - </p> - <p> - “I have just come from there. Miss Davies, George's teacher, is with her - now.” - </p> - <p> - The big man slowly turned it over in his mind. Finally he said: - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you all I know, but it is not very much. There is another - little boy named McGinnis who is around with him most of the time. The - McGinnis boy worked at the ball park until the season closed last week. - For ten days now he has been coming here for a glass of beer pretty often, - and he always carries away the lunch. You say you want to help George?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I will tell you what I think.” He used the word “think,” but his - expression showed that he knew pretty nearly the facts. “McGinnis has an - uncle, a boat-builder, who has a place under the Wells Street Bridge. You - go down there and you will learn more than I can tell you.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran thanked him and returned to Miss Davies, Mrs. Craig, he found, - was getting ready to go back to work. They were all waiting anxiously for - him. - </p> - <p> - “I think we are started right,” he said cheerily, addressing the mother. - “I will be back later in the evening and report progress.” To Miss Davies - he said: “You would rather wait at the Settlement, I suppose. I shan't be - back probably before eight or nine o'clock.” - </p> - <p> - “Why,” she said in a low voice as they were passing out the door, “don't - you want me to go with you?” - </p> - <p> - “I am afraid not. I could hardly take you prowling around the wharves at - night.” And he told her, as they went down the stairs behind Mrs. Craig, - what directions the saloon-keeper had given him. They were still talking - about it when they joined the woman on the sidewalk; and then the three of - them walked together to the second corner, talking it over and over again. - For Mrs. Craig was beginning to discover that the young people were - downright interested in her and in her boy. There was no gracious - down-reaching here, no lending a kind hand to the unfortunate; but just a - young woman who believed she could help, and a young man who knew a little - of what it all meant; in short, here were two real persons who said little - and meant more. She was not afraid, as she looked at them, that they would - pray for her, loudly and zealously, kneeling on the floor of her own - tenement rooms. And she was inclined to wonder, looking out at them across - her own sea of troubles, what life was to hold for them. - </p> - <p> - Something of this last thought got into her manner as she took their hands - at parting; indeed, her reserve so nearly broke that she gave them—not - singly, but the two of them together—a look that brought a faint - blush to the young woman's cheek and to her mind other thoughts than - George and his difficulties—-thoughts that disturbed her a little - later when she and Halloran were walking toward the Settlement, so foolish - and trivial were they beside the realities of the scene that had passed—thoughts - that were resolutely put from her mind. - </p> - <p> - At the Settlement steps she lingered a moment. - </p> - <p> - “I wish I were going with you,” she said, hesitating. “There is pride in - the family, and George has his share of it. If you—if he should - think you blamed him or looked down on him, he would never come back with - you. He has always been hard to reach, and I think it is because of a - rough sort of sensitiveness.” - </p> - <p> - Was it unreasonable that she should wish to continue handling this case, - just now when tact was so urgently needed? Or that she should give - Halloran a hint of the best course to take with the boy? - </p> - <p> - “I don't blame him,” he replied. “The way to help him is to make him feel - like somebody. If you once let him get to thinking that he is good for - nothing he'll run down hill fast. Jimmie McGinnis, now, will take all the - knocks you can give him, and go right on turning his pennies; he will be - in the City Council yet.” - </p> - <p> - She nodded, for she saw that he understood. And he turned away to begin - the search, walking over to the car-line. As he sat down in the first - trailer a small boy ran alongside the rear car and swung himself aboard, - hurriedly drawing in a pair of thin legs after him. - </p> - <p> - Through gloomy Kinzie Street walked Halloran, when he had reached the - river district, and after him, half a block or more, came the thin legs. - He got to the bridge by the Northwestern Station, crossed over, and looked - around for a means of descent to the wharves. After a moment he saw in the - shadow of a brick building—a building that was a South Water Street - market in front, a factory in the upper half and a tug-office behind—what - seemed to be a break in the railing. He crossed to it and found, sure - enough, a narrow stairway, covered with mud and slime, leading down toward - the oily surface of the river. It was curious—he had crossed the - bridge a hundred times, but it had never occurred to him that there was - any life below the street, that men came and went down there on the strip - of wharf, so narrow that it seemed little more than a fender for the - buildings that backed on the river. Picking his way carefully to avoid - slipping, he walked down. - </p> - <p> - Not far away, in the basement of one of these buildings, was a sailors' - grog-shop: hardly three rods from the bridge-walk, even in sight from it, - yet so quietly tucked away below story on story of brick building, behind - half a dozen smoking tugs, in a spot where no sober doorway, no saloon - doorway even, had a right to be—so hidden, in fact, that not half a - dozen of the tens of thousands of people on the bridge daily had ever - observed it. It was a wonder how a drunken man could ever get out through - the door without falling into the river—perhaps one did fall now and - then. There was music in the saloon now—a squeaking fiddle and loud - noises. - </p> - <p> - Beyond, the river was splashed with red and white and green from lanterns - and side-lights; and a dozen masts, their spars and rigging apparently - interlaced, were outlined against the western sky. At the moment a big - freighter, bound out, was headed for the draw, forging slowly and almost - silently down the sluggish stream, passing along like some dim modern - Flying Dutchman. Above, on the bridge, cars were rumbling and footsteps - were pattering—the feet of the late suburbanites hurrying to their - trains. All Chicago was alive and bustling above him and around him; but - here, at the end of a crooked passage, was a quiet spot—a shop - filled with boats, completed and uncompleted; and sprawled on his stomach - behind one of the boats, a cigarette in his mouth, an Old Sleuth story - spread on the boards before him, a candle stuck in a beer bottle at his - elbow, was a boy, who was trying to believe that he was, in spite of cold - feet and sniffling nose, really tough and comfortable. - </p> - <p> - “Well, George,” said Halloran, “how's business?” - </p> - <p> - George started, turned pale, and hastily took the cigarette from his - mouth; then remembering his independence, he as hastily put it back. - Halloran sat down on the stem of a ship's boat and filled his pipe. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Davies and I heard you were in hard luck,” he went on, “and I - thought I'd look you up and see what's the matter.” - </p> - <p> - George had not been able to speak until now. He sat up, pulled doggedly a - moment at his cigarette, and said in a very sulky tone: - </p> - <p> - “Who told you I was here?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran would have been glad to answer him, but as it fell out no reply - was necessary. For just as he was pausing to light his pipe a step was - heard in the passage and a wizened-faced boy appeared in the outer circle - of the candle-light. - </p> - <p> - It was Jimmie, eyeing Halloran with distrust, glancing apologetically at - George, more disturbed, in fact, than Halloran had yet seen him. To him - now George turned a reproachful face. - </p> - <p> - “I never done it, George,” said Jimmie. “I'd a-busted first. He went - around to old Hoffman and he put him onto my uncle. I see him go in there - and I followed him up.” - </p> - <p> - “That's right, George,” Halloran put in by way of seconding Jimmie. “We - couldn't get a word out of him. It was your mother that sent me to - Hoffman. But I've come down to talk with you, and I'm not sorry that - Jimmie is here. Now, what's the trouble? Tell me about it; and then I will - see what we can do for you.” - </p> - <p> - The two boys looked at each other. George had been told so often by - certain Settlement workers never to smoke, never to read bad books, never - to be seen in company with beer bottles, he had supposed that of course - these things would be the first subjects under discussion; and the - omission disconcerted him. Jimmie, meanwhile, being the shrewder of the - two, was signaling him to go ahead and spit it out. So he began, in a - blundering, sullen sort of a way; stumbled, blushed and stopped. Finally - Jimmie had to take it up. - </p> - <p> - “You see, it's just this way. George's folks was getting down pretty close - to the boards, and they was the rent coming, and George he had his week's - pay, but it wasn't enough, so I just told him”—very patronizing - here, was Jimmie, as became a young capitalist who had once clasped the - hand of Captain Anson—“I told him to give it to me and I'd put it up - on the Washington game, with a little wad of my own. It was an easy mark, - 'cause the Washingtons were tail-enders, and I had hold of their mascot, - and he was willing to put up even. It was like taking the money out of his - pocket, but a man can't throw away a chance like that—and then I'll - be damned if Billy Connors didn't up and throw the game.” - </p> - <p> - “He's a hell of a pitcher,” was George's comment, spoken with a sidelong - glance at Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “Never you mind,” said Jimmie, “Watson 'll never sign him again, after a - trick like that.” - </p> - <p> - Rather an interesting situation this—an odd confusing of good - motives with bad—an amusing symptom of good feeling in speculator - Jimmie, to be taking up the support of a young man who had been ruined - through his advice. He would doubtless get over it as he grew older. If - every man were to feel the same responsibility, what a wreck it would make - of our institutions! What a scrambling there would be in Wall Street, in - La Salle Street! Incipient socialism this—a bad thing, very bad! - </p> - <p> - Halloran nodded and smiled a little. “I know,” he said. “We're all of us - likely to fall down now and then. I don't know as I should have done just - that, though. A man can't afford to gamble unless he can afford to lose; - and there aren't many such men. I'm not sure there are any.” He smiled - again—he knew just how George felt, just about what he was thinking - behind that clouded face. “But now the question is, how are we going to - fix you up again? You can't stay here. How much did you lose?” - </p> - <p> - Again it was Jimmie that answered, “Three fifty.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran thought for a moment, doing some sums in his head; then he took a - purse from his pocket and counted out the money. - </p> - <p> - “Now, George,” he said, “this is a loan. I know you're square, and I'm - willing to take your word for it. There is no hurry; but some day, when - you feel you can, you may pay it back. We needn't either of us say - anything about it.” George's expression was changing every moment; but he - took the money. “Suppose we go back to the house now, George. You will - find your mother and sister mighty glad to see you. And Miss Davies is - waiting at the Settlement to hear about you. She has worried a good deal. - Then Monday we will see if we can't get the factory to give you another - trial.” - </p> - <p> - George's armour was not proof against such an attack as this. He got up, - put the story in his pocket, and lighted Halloran and Jimmie along the - passage with his candle; then he snuffed it out and put it in his pocket, - threw the bottle into the river and followed the two others up the - stairway to the street. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—The End of the Beginning - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ending over a book - sat Halloran, both elbows on the table, the fingers of both hands run - through his hair. The book lay open, and spread out on the leaves was a - note from Miss Davies; in part this ran as follows: - </p> - <p> - “. . . George is to have another trial at the box-factory. They seem - willing to be kind to him, but Mr. ———— says - emphatically that he will not be taken back a second time. But I have - confidence in him, and particularly in your influence.. . . - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you all about it when you next come up to the house. I am - more grateful than you know—indeed, we all are—for your. . .” - </p> - <p> - Halloran had made a discovery. Had he been given to self-scrutiny it would - have come earlier; and it would then have been a little easier to face. - But this way of thinking would not help him now; it had not come earlier, - it was difficult, and the question lay before him: should he make that - next visit to the house or not? - </p> - <p> - He glanced up at his nickel alarm-clock and saw that it was time to go on - watch; so he put on his sweater and oilskins and sou'wester, blew out his - lamp and walked across the Sheridan road to the station. - </p> - <p> - It was nearly four years since he had taken care of the Davies's furnace - and slept in their barn. That had been in his days of “subbing” for a crew - position, and he had not been a boy even then; he had entered college at - twenty-two. Since then, thanks to his salary as a surfman in the pay of - the Treasury Department, he had got along rather better; he was no longer - the traditional poor student. He was not ashamed of his struggles, nor - especially proud of them; he was inclined to think that struggling is not - in itself particularly commendable; that it is success that counts. He - knew that Mrs. Davies and her daughter had followed his work with - interest, and he was grateful for it. “Grateful!”—there was the word - that he stuck at. For, after all, had there not been from the start an - element of patronage in their kindness to him? “Kindness” another word - that hurt. - </p> - <p> - Number Six was “punching” the watchman's clock that always hung just - within the station door. - </p> - <p> - “Hallo,” he said to Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “Hallo.” - </p> - <p> - “Wet night.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, rather.” - </p> - <p> - “Better keep an eye on that light off the long pier. She's running in - pretty close, I think.” - </p> - <p> - “All right; good-night.” - </p> - <p> - Number Six disappeared in the dark of the road, bound for bed; and - Halloran pulled his sweater up around his neck and fell to pacing the - veranda. The surf was booming on the beach below; the rain was cutting in - toward the land. Out beyond the breakers were lights—a line of them - along the horizon. - </p> - <p> - The time had come to look ahead. In another six months his college course - would be completed; his playtime would be over; realities lay beyond—downright - realities that surround a man, that show clear through him, that bear him - down and under unless he be made of stronger stuff than they. Wits were - needed, and judgment; the determination that goes against things, not with - them. There would be no making up of cuts, out there in the world, no - special examinations; a man must look higher than the faculty there. - Mistakes would be hard to rectify, perhaps could never be rectified, where - a man was already nearer thirty than twenty. He decided not to make that - next call. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - BOOK — PINE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—A Decision to Fight - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he little city of - Wauchung straggled over and between and almost burrowed under a chain of - sand-hills—shining yellow hills with tops entirely bald save for a - spear of rank grass here and there or a dwarfed pine. Outside the mouth of - the river was Lake Michigan; behind the little city were the pine forests - of the Lower Peninsula. And the one interesting object of this whole - region was a man—for houses and shops were commonplace, streets were - ill-paved, the railroad was wanting in energy and capital, the inhabitants - were mostly leveled down to the colourless monotony of the sand-hills—a - man named Martin L. Higginson. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0018.jpg" alt="0018 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0018.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - There was one imposing building of granite and red bricks on the business - street—a glance showed the name of Higginson over the entrance. Two - large mills stood by the river, surrounded by piles of lumber on the land, - fronted by rafts of logs in the water, sending out their droning hum all - day long (and frequently all night long); inside, men were bustling and - pushing in the effort to keep up with the drive of work outside, the long - runways were active with men and with moving lumber—and on each of - the mills was the name Higginson. Two steamers lay at the Higginson - wharves—lake carriers, both, of the Higginson line. A logging - railroad ran back some twenty miles into the forest; it ran over Higginson - land to Higginson land, to bring what logs the little river could not - bring—for the Higginson property extended far to north, south and - eastward. There was, in fact, one rich man in the little city—one - man who had done what he could to keep the railroad busy, to keep the - harbour dredged, to keep the streets in better condition, to make Wauchung - a real city, awake, energetic, proud—one man who represented - Wauchung to the outside world: Mr. Higginson. - </p> - <p> - An elderly gentleman he was, a man who had passed the fighting age, who - would have stopped to rest any time these last six or eight years if the - business had permitted it; but it had stood until recently that the one - man in Wauchung who did not take his vacation every year was Mr. - Higginson. As it often falls out, however, one of his severest misfortunes - had brought its blessing. For five years and more he had looked for a man, - for the man, whom he could trust to take up the burden that was beginning - to weigh so heavily; and for five years he had failed. He liked young - Crosman, the head clerk in the office; but Crosman, though welcome enough - at the house as Mamie Higginson's regular caller, hardly showed - administrative qualities—his limitations were marked. And so the - search had gone on: he had tried them, young “men and middle-aged men”—and - he had found that all of them wanted money, and none of them wanted work. - And what he had to offer was work, little else—hard work, work for - head and hands, much thinking of the business, little thinking of self: - the spirit that would live for the business, that would take its pride in - the quality of the Higginson work, that would strive, as he had striven, - to make the name of Higginson a synonym for honest work, work done on - time, work done a little better than the contract demanded. Where could he - find a man like this? - </p> - <p> - And then, after five years, through a shipwreck of all occurrences, he had - found him. He knew him at once, as he had thought he should. Looking down - from the heights of character and accomplishments, on a world of little - persons, foolish persons, earnest, weak persons, dishonest persons, - pompous, empty persons—all the sorts that go to make up a man's - world, and nearly all that he is likely to see, unfortunately, from the - heights—looking out and down and all about, he had seen a young - man's head and shoulders climbing up above the rabble. The young man had - not yet climbed very high; but he was climbing, and that was enough. So - Mr. Higginson had come to think more lightly of the rheumatism, the - failing eyes, the many signs of age that had been brought sharply to his - notice by that shock and exposure on the west coast. - </p> - <p> - At the time of this chapter, Mr. Higginson and Halloran were seated in the - office—Halloran before his desk, Mr. Higginson beside it—looking - at a typewritten letter or statement. Twenty-four hours earlier Mr. - William H. Babcock, of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company, had taken the train - for Chicago, leaving this document behind him; and now the time had come - to answer it. - </p> - <p> - This was the culmination of a long series of letters and interviews. The - beginning had been when this same Mr. Babcock had endeavoured to buy the - Wauchung mills in the interest of Mr. Bigelow. It seemed that Mr. Bigelow - was about to enter the lumber business. His genius for combination, for - exploitation, was to be given a new direction. Kentucky Coal, New - Freighters, Northwest Chicago, all his various interests were prospering, - thanks to the name of Bigelow, and now the lumber business was to be - vitalized, to be vivified. Just how it was to be done, or what was to be - done, was not known; that secret was kept close in the Bigelow office. - Each newspaper published its own version, to be believed or disbelieved at - the discretion of the reader. All Mr. Higginson knew was that the Bigelow - firm could never buy him out, that he had not spent his years in building - up a business for the benefit of Mr. Bigelow. The business was his life, - and he meant to keep it for himself and his family and his legitimate - successors. So the first refusal had been a simple matter—a plain, - emphatic no had sufficed. - </p> - <p> - Then for a time there had been silence; until one day Halloran learned - that the Pewaukoe Lumber Company, twenty-odd miles up the shore, had - succumbed to the blandishments of the low-voiced Mr. Babcock, and had sold - out mills, standing timber and all. It had not been a prosperous company, - thanks to the shiftless management of the children of the original owner; - but there was no reason why it should not do well in good hands. There was - no question now that, whatever he meant to do next, Mr. Bigelow had a - footing in the lumber trade, and Halloran had been watching him closely. - </p> - <p> - The document on the desk was a statement of the “understanding” or secret - agreement that was henceforth to be law among the lumber producers of Lake - Michigan. It had been presented and accompanied with much confidential - talk from Mr. Babcock—all tending to show that the lumbermen, with - the sole exception of Mr. Higginson, were already united to forward this - agreement, that the business would be organized as never before, that - great economies would be brought about in the carrying side of the trade, - that the strain of competition' would be avoided, that prices would be - maintained at a somewhat higher figure (a main point, this) under penalty - of fines, that—much more low talk and friendly disinterested - confidences. For their interests were identical, said Mr. Babcock; and - there was room for them all. Efficiency was the keyword—efficiency, - productiveness, economy, identity of interests, good prices. And lastly - there had been friendly, almost deferential intimations that G. Hyde - Bigelow & Company held the key to the situation, that the combination - was already a fact, and that a firm which might decide to stay out must - take the consequences. - </p> - <p> - Simplified, the whole matter came to this: Within the combination, - prosperity in plenty, but always subject to the guiding judgment of G. - Hyde Bigelow, hence a certain loss of identity and of control to - self-respecting heads of companies; without the combination, a fight to a - finish against the combined power and momentum of Bigelow & Company - and the “Lumber Trust.” Just how great was this momentum no one exactly - knew: but Bigelow was a magic name, no doubt of it. - </p> - <p> - “You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?” said Mr. Higginson. - </p> - <p> - His voice was disturbed and his expression showed worry and trouble. For a - year Mr. Higginson had been changing, very slightly but none the less - perceptibly to one as close to him, day after day, as Halloran was. Until - he had assured himself that his assistant was able to take up the burden, - he had kept up; but after that moment he had seemed, in a measure, to let - go. On routine matters he was as strong as ever, but his mind refused to - work automatically through new problems; there were sometimes gaps in his - reasoning that he found it difficult to bridge over, and this worried him. - So it had come about that a tacit agreement existed between the older man - and the younger, that in questions where vigour was needed, of body or - mind, the younger man should take the lead; and Mr. Higginson mildly - deceived himself by giving more attention than formerly to routine matters - and trivial details. It was Halloran, therefore, who had spent the better - part of a night thinking out this question, whether to yield or fight. And - it was Mr. Higginson, naturally enough, who had put the question: - </p> - <p> - “You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. The Bigelow part of it is what I like least. I am not sure that he - is just the man you would want to stand responsible for this business, and - therefore he certainly is not the man to take charge of all the companies - together—and that is pretty nearly what this paper means.” - </p> - <p> - “Why do you think that?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, he isn't solid. He's been lucky, and just now he's on the top of - the wave. But his interests and investments are spread out so wide that a - run of bad luck might upset him. I don't know that it would, but it might. - And then I have seen a little of him.” - </p> - <p> - “You know him personally?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I cut his grass for two summers in Evanston, and did odd jobs for - him.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson pondered, and Halloran went on: “On the other hand, his - resources are large, and if we decide to stand out it may mean a long, - hard fight. It might be harder than we think.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson was still thinking hard, forcing his mind to take up one - phase of the question after another; and the worried expression, so - frequently on his face nowadays, was more noticeable than ever. Finally he - said: - </p> - <p> - “Then you are in favour of declining to join the combination?” - </p> - <p> - This was the direct question that Halloran had partly foreseen. He - hesitated, marking at random with a pencil while his thoughts came fast. - At this moment he saw more clearly than he had seen at any time during the - night what a refusal would mean. Wealthy as Mr. Higginson was, his wealth - lay in the lumber lands, the logging railroad, in the mills and the - steamers, and in Wauchung property; to a certain extent the whole town of - Wauchung had grown up around Mr. Higginson and was directly or indirectly - dependent upon him; and all these interests, hanging as they did on the - lumber business, must suffer when this business was attacked. But he - caught himself—if he ran on into this way of thinking he was lost. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” he replied; “I think we had better decline.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson arose. - </p> - <p> - “I will leave the letter to you,” he said; and then went out with a face - that seemed to express downright-dread. Honest old gentleman, he had - thought to take a rest; and instead he found himself facing the hardest - fight of his career. - </p> - <p> - Halloran took up his pen and made the attitude of Higginson & Company - plain in three lines. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—Under Way - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n the parlour of - the Higginson home, one evening shortly after the incident of the last - chapter, sat Mrs. Higginson and her daughter, with expressions hardly - significant of an intense joy in life. In the library, talking earnestly - behind closed doors, were Mr. Higginson and Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Halloran, what is it?” had begun the head of the firm. - </p> - <p> - “The fight is on. I got the first word of it to-day.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson bowed slightly and waited. - </p> - <p> - “Bigelow has cut the price down below cost.” - </p> - <p> - It took a moment for the older man to grasp the meaning of this. - </p> - <p> - “Below cost?” he repeated. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; it's going to be a question of endurance.” - </p> - <p> - “But we have some large orders on hand. They will keep us busy for awhile. - How does the Carroll & Condit lumber stand?” - </p> - <p> - “It's about half cut out.” - </p> - <p> - “You can go ahead with it, then, for this week. And after that the - Michigan City contract will keep us busy for awhile.” - </p> - <p> - “The Carroll & Condit business is what brought me here to-night. Here - is a letter from them.” Halloran laid it on the table. “They offer us a - chance to meet the new price before they place their order elsewhere.” - </p> - <p> - Gradually the meaning of Halloran's words had been sinking into Mr. - Higginson's mind; the relations of cause and effect had been clearing - before him. He looked the letter over silently, twice, three times. - </p> - <p> - “I—I can hardly believe this———” He saw that this - was useless talk and he stopped. It had been a verbal order from Carroll, - a man whom he had reason to hold as the soul of honour; the price had been - stated and agreed to, precisely as for twenty years back; everything had - been satisfactory. Good Mr. Higginson had been the victim of a delusion. - After half a century of struggle he had allowed himself to believe that - the fight was about over, that his personal achievement meant something; - that he could stand securely on the heights. He had forgotten that - Business is Business, that Time is Money and Money Talks; he had forgotten - that the glorious old world was spinning along, as heedless as ever, after - the ever-receding glitter, and that there could be no stopping until the - last great stop should be reached. - </p> - <p> - “From what I can gather,” said Halloran, “they mean to fight us all along - the line. The Michigan City contract, I think, is good. We have it down in - black and white, and we can make the delivery in our own steamers; but we - should have to use the railroads for most of our other orders, and I'm - afraid we can't do it.” He disliked this hammering one trouble after - another into the old gentleman's aching head, but it had to be done. “I'm - quite sure that Bigelow has influence with the railroads, and of course he - will use it.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson was thinking—thinking. - </p> - <p> - “How much—” he was still thinking, desperately raking his facts - together and facing what seemed like chaos—“how much is this going - to cost us, Mr. Halloran?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “It's too early to tell. He must show his hand before we can plan our - game. He's beginning now, and before he gets through, by ———, - we'll smash him. We'll make him feel like a whipped coach-dog every time - he passes a lumber pile.” Halloran was getting so excited he had to get up - and pace the carpet. “I know the man; I know his meanness and his vanity. - I've worked for him, and I've seen him off his guard, and I know his - insolence. Before we get through with him he'll wish he had gone into a - bucket-shop, where he belongs, and stayed there, the damned old bloated - frog of a tin-horn gambler. Let him wreck his Kentucky Coal and his New - Freighters all he pleases, but he'll get a bellyful if he tries to wreck - the lumber business.” - </p> - <p> - He stopped short, looked around at the dark, olive-tinted walls, at the - stately row of books in their morocco and calf and yellow and red and - gold; looked at the rich carpet and the restful chairs and at the soft - light of the polished student-lamp; looked last at Mr. Higginson—and - felt a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. What had he said? - </p> - <p> - Somewhere in Halloran's make-up, deep-hidden beneath the laborious years - of work and study, lay a well, a spouting, roaring geyser of profanity. It - had come into the world with him; it had been richly fed during his rough, - knockabout boyhood; and now, in spite of the weights he had put on it, a - year or two of Michigan lumbermen had been enough to prime it. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson was still thinking—thinking. The facts were before him - now; at last he had penetrated to them and brought them together. And he - was facing them—meeting them squarely without flinching. Quietly he - sat, one elbow on the green-topped table, his hand shading his eyes; and - the lamplight fell gently on his head. He was facing the question of - himself, of his ability to conduct his own business; and another question, - granting that he was unable, whether he could, in his best judgment, place - everything he had in the world—his business, his family, himself—in - the hands of this man and bid him Godspeed in his work. So he sat thinking—thinking; - and Halloran, a little abashed, but angry still, dropped into a chair and - waited. At last the old gentleman spoke—in a low, changed voice. - “Mr. Halloran, I have not been well lately; and I think it best—to - tell you that—for the present the business is in your hands. I will - stay here and advise with you, but—I do not wish you to feel - hampered by my presence in carrying on this fight. I am laying a heavy - responsibility on you—but I think—I trust you will be equal to - it.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson's part of the fight was over; and he had won. - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Higginson was playing clock at the centre-table. She was a wiry - little woman, capable of great exertion and showing remarkable endurance - when set on some purpose, such as a shopping trip to Chicago; but - suffering at other times from languor, and low spirits, and in constant - need of medical attendance. - </p> - <p> - She had never been able to understand why “Mr. H.” should insist on - burying himself in the lumber business, when he was plenty rich enough to - sell out and take her and her daughter forth from the slumberous quiet of - Wauchung into the stir of the world. Such stupidity, such meanness of - ideals (to pass over the injustice to herself—<i>she</i> was - nothing; <i>she</i> didn't count) was out of her ken. And in the second - place, her heart had been set for three seasons on a trip to Hot Springs; - and even if Mr. H.'s plainness of character were to hold his interests in - Wauchung in spite of her known desires, he certainly owed it to her to - give her an outing for a few months. She had borne a great deal for him—but - never mind. Doctor Brown would sympathize with her, anyway—would - bring her medicine every day if she were but so much as to drop a hint. - </p> - <p> - Mamie had been trying to read a novel; but being herself the meek centre - of a tremendous little drama, she found it difficult to focus her - attention. - </p> - <p> - “Ma,” she said, after a time, “don't you think pa looks a little run - down?” This was a euphemism; there was no question that Mr. Higginson was - looking very bad indeed. - </p> - <p> - “A little, perhaps,” replied her mother. At that moment, the three-o'clock - pile being prematurely completed, she gave up “Clock” in disgust and - shuffled her cards for the thirteen game. - </p> - <p> - Presently she said, “My head has ached hard all day.” - </p> - <p> - This was encouraging. Mamie took up her book again; but not for long. - </p> - <p> - “Do you suppose he is worrying about the business, ma? He and Mr. Halloran - are working almost every night now.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose so,” Mrs. Higginson replied. “It would have been better for him - if he had taken my advice five years ago and retired. Your father has no - time to think of us, my dear.” - </p> - <p> - Mamie felt some injustice in this and would have dropped the subject had - not her mother, roused to it, pushed on. - </p> - <p> - “He says himself that Mr. Halloran has shown himself able to run the - business, and yet he will not go away even for a week. I think if we could - only get him off for a short time he would want to stay, once he had made - up his mind to it.” At this moment the library door opened and the two men - could be heard in the hall. Mrs. Higginson's face brightened. “Play - something for me, my dear,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, ma. They are just coming in here.” - </p> - <p> - “Who? Are they? Play the march Mr. Halloran likes so much.” - </p> - <p> - Mamie went obediently to the piano and was crashing out the opening chords - when the two men reached the parlour door. Mrs. Higginson rose and - extended her hand with a bright smile. Mamie showed signs of stopping, but - Halloran nodded to her to go on, and dropped into a chair. Mrs. Higginson - came over and sat down by him, leaving her cards in disorder on the table. - </p> - <p> - “I had just asked Mamie to play for me before you came in,” she said, - pitching her voice somewhat above the noise of the march. “I always like - to hear her play when I have one of my headaches. It seems to make me - forget myself for a little while. And I really think she plays very well.” - </p> - <p> - Yes; Halloran thought so, too. - </p> - <p> - “I am not one of your cultivated musicians, but I know what I like. And - that is all anybody can know, I guess. Only most people aren't honest - enough to say so. I have had a severe headache all day. It was in the back - of my head, just where I had one last Thursday; and if I hadn't happened - to have some of the pills left over that Doctor Brown brought for me the - last time, I don't know what I should have done. One does hate so to give - up. I have always said to my husband: 'No, Mr. H., I will <i>not</i> give - up; I will <i>not</i> go to bed and acknowledge myself an invalid. Thank - goodness I have pride enough left for that.'” Here the doorbell claimed - her attention for a moment. “Well, here is Harry Crosman. He is such a - good boy, we are all so fond of him. And then for a long time”—very - confidentially, this—“he was really almost the only company there - was for Mamie, and we were glad to have him drop around on her account. - The people in Wauchung are so—so—well, I'm sure you - understand. It was pleasant for the dear girl. I don't suppose he is ever - going to astonish the world, but we are always glad to see him. - Good-evening, Harry.” - </p> - <p> - At this greeting the newcomer took a chair, and found himself just in time - to hear Mrs. Higgin-son, keyed up to extra exertions by the music and the - company, bring all her artillery to bear on her husband. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Mr. Halloran, I'm just going to appeal to you if Mr. H. isn't - working too hard. Don't <i>you</i> think it is time he took a little - vacation———” - </p> - <p> - She stopped short, for the long-suffering Mr. H. had turned on her with - downright impatience. - </p> - <p> - “Don't let me hear any more of that talk,” he said sharply; then, almost - before the last word was out of his mouth, he abruptly excused himself and - left the room. - </p> - <p> - He left silence behind him, and some little consternation; and Halloran, - seeing on Mrs. Higgin-son's face the signs of a storm, excused himself, - too, leaving Crosman to weather it as best he might. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—Tightening the Blockade - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>r. Babcock had - come in early this morning, depositing a small traveling-bag behind the - door of his office, and then looking at his watch to see if Mr. Bigelow - were not about due. Somewhat travel-stained was Mr. Babcock, as a glance - at the mirror told him; and there was time to wash and change his linen - before his senior should arrive. - </p> - <p> - Shortly entered Mr. Bigelow, pausing within the threshold. - </p> - <p> - “Good-morning, Mr. Babcock. Did you find Michigan City still on the map?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Babcock, giving a last flick at his coat-collar before the mirror, - turned, listened, and laughed at his senior's little jest. The - stenographer, sitting in her corner by the window, smiled and giggled. - Young men at desks in the outer office snickered and chuckled over their - books. The round-eyed office-boy tee-heed outright, and then, covered with - fright and confusion, disappeared behind the water-cooler as the head of - the firm passed on to the inner office. - </p> - <p> - The arrival of Mr. Babcock with a traveling-bag was, it seemed, to be - considered important; more important even than the heap of letters that - lay ready opened on the mahogany desk. For now Mr. Babcock had been - summoned, the stenographer had been dismissed to some work in the outer - office, and Mr. Bigelow, closely attentive, and Mr. Babcock, with much to - communicate in that low voice of his, were settling down to consider a - problem. - </p> - <p> - “The price appealed to them,” Mr. Babcock was saying, “but they are afraid - of Higginson. They admit it. Higginson, they say, has their written order - to cut out the timber at the old price. Higginson, on his part, has agreed - to deliver the entire bill, two hundred thousand feet or more, at the - wharf at Michigan City, by the fourteenth of this month.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow's eyes strayed to his desk calendar. - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” went on Mr. Babcock, “to-day's the eleventh. That gives us three - days to stop it in.” - </p> - <p> - At this point there was an interruption. As had happened once before when - these two gentlemen were talking, the door opened and the small office-boy - appeared, catching his breath hurriedly before getting out the words: - </p> - <p> - “Lady t' see y'u, sir.” - </p> - <p> - A decisive utterance was hanging on Mr. Bigelow's lips; a hand was raised - to make it more emphatic, but the lips closed and the hand fell. - </p> - <p> - “You will excuse me, Mr. Babcock?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly.” - </p> - <p> - “I shall be engaged only a moment.” - </p> - <p> - The discreet Mr. Babcock withdrew, and the head of the firm, with a glance - at the heap of letters still untouched, turned, without rising, toward the - door. There was a curious expression on his face, the expression of a man - who feels himself at last in a position to cut knots, who knows that he - commands the situation. A person who might choose to break in on such a - weighty conference this morning need not be surprised at summary - treatment. And as the woman entered and softly closed the door he leaned a - little forward and drew his brows together, his whole appearance saying - plainly: “My time is short, madam. Speak to the point.” - </p> - <p> - The woman faltered and waited for his question. He said not a word. She - started to speak, but seemed unable to break through this heavy silence. - He waited, his brows coming down more and more. And at last, when the - words did pass her lips, they were not at all what she had meant to say. - </p> - <p> - “I have tried not to come to you again. God knows how it hurts me. But I - had to come. I was turned out of the New York Store ten days ago, without - warning.” - </p> - <p> - Once started, she was finding it a little easier to go on; but Mr. - Bigelow, carrying the weight of millions on his shoulders, dealing hourly - with questions of importance, greater or less, to the whole commercial - world, had no time now—kind as he may have been in the more - leisurely past—to waste on trivial matters. He had given the woman a - chance; was he to blame for her failure? Did “not potential success exist - within every human being? Was any man to blame for the shipwreck of - another? - </p> - <p> - “I know nothing about that,” he cut in shortly and finally. “There is no - use in bringing your story here.” - </p> - <p> - She quailed before him. “But I have a right—the law——” - </p> - <p> - “The law is yours to use. If you think it will help you, use it.” He rose, - opened the door, and bowed her out. And she, baffled, humiliated, at the - end of her resources, went out without a word, crossed the hall as - steadily as any young stenographer, stepped into the elevator with a - composed face, and out into the street—and all this while there was - nothing to mark her out from a thousand other ill-dressed women; nothing - to show that her hopes were gone; simply a plain woman on La Salle Street, - quietly walking—where? Where could she walk now? Were there still - depths to sound, or had she reached the bottom? - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Babcock!” - </p> - <p> - The junior partner came out from his own private office at the sound of - his senior's voice. - </p> - <p> - “You were saying,” said Mr. Bigelow, taking up the thread where they had - laid it down, “that Higginson & Company have agreed to deliver the - timber by the fourteenth. Now, of course, a blockade, to be effective, - must be complete.” This was self-evident to Mr. Babcock. - </p> - <p> - “And so long as these people are free to deliver lumber the blockade is - not complete. What is your plan regarding this?” - </p> - <p> - “The Michigan City people, as I said, are afraid of Higginson. But they - will accept our price the minute we can show them that they're safe in - doing it. They received a letter from Higginson's manager yesterday - stating that the Higginson steamer, with the timber, will reach Michigan - City on the night of the thirteenth or the morning of the fourteenth. That - means that it will be ready for loading on the twelfth—to-morrow—and - that the steamer will start the morning of the thirteenth. Now, it's not - hard to imagine a delay that would keep the Higginson manager from getting - the boat off in time. And if he fails to deliver, we are promised the - order.” - </p> - <p> - “How do you mean to do this?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Babcock glanced around in that cautious way of' his, leaned forward, - and buzzed along rapidly for a few moments, his eyes keen with eagerness. - The senior partner listened closely and slowly nodded, to show that he - understood. Even Mr. Bigelow, as we have seen, was not wholly free from - annoyance. Head of the Lumber Trust was Mr. Bigelow, but not, - unfortunately, sole owner of the Lumber Trust. Fighting is expensive; and - voting heads of constituent companies are sometimes unreasonable about - expenses. Mr. Bigelow was skilful and resourceful; he knew well how to - paint rainbows that should dazzle even the hard-headed, hard-fisted old - lumbermen of Michigan; he understood how to make it plain that money spent - in defeating Higginson would come back threefold when the defeat was over, - and the price up where it should be, and the “economies” of the trust in - working order; he was shrewd, and he knew that the sooner Higginson could - be run out of business the better it would be for him (to say nothing of - the trust and its directors). And so it was indeed important that the - blockade should be made effective. The railroads were practically closed - to Higginson now, his customers were to be had for the buying, but the - steamers of the Higginson line were still afloat and ready to deliver - Higginson lumber at contract prices. The Michigan City contract was not a - matter of money; there was a principle at stake. Higginson <i>must not</i> - deliver that lumber on the fourteenth! - </p> - <p> - “Very good,” he said, nodding again. “Have you the right man for this - work?” - </p> - <p> - Buzz—buzz—from Mr. Babcock. More words from Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “You will have to move quickly.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I am off now,” and the junior partner headed for the traveling-bag, - feeling in his pocket for a time-table. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—Mr. Babcock Breakfasts Late - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he thirteenth was - a storm-centre at Wauchung. At six in the morning, while Mr. William H. - Babcock was sleeping peacefully in a Grand Rapids hotel, dreaming sweet - dreams and smiling childlike smiles, conscious even in slumberland that - his work was accomplished; while the Martin L. Higginson No. 1 was lying - at the Higginson wharves with two hundred and fifteen thousand feet of - lumber aboard, Halloran was up and tumbling into his clothes. Captain - Craig, master of the Higginson No. 1, was sitting grimly on the corner of - the bed. - </p> - <p> - “Do you know the man?” Halloran was asking. - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he say whom he was acting for?” - </p> - <p> - The Captain shook his head. - </p> - <p> - At seven o'clock the No. 1. should be leaving the harbour; but here was - her master sitting on Halloran's bed, his seamed old face set hard with - the thoughts that were boiling behind it. Down by the mills, where the - first early risers were lounging in, where the lumber piles stretching far - along the wharves were glistening yellow under the light of the new sun, - all was quiet even to the steamer, whose stoke-room was cold, whose - boilers were giving out no sounds of preparation for the twelve-hour - journey. Over at Grand Rapids Mr. Babcock was still sleeping the sleep of - the just, dreaming once more that his man had come in by a late train to - report that all was well at Wauchung. And still Halloran was jerking - himself into his clothes, pulling on his old purple sweater rather than - waste time over collar and tie. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he said; “I'm ready.” Then he paused. The next move was not - to be settled offhand. “You went around to Billy's house, Captain?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I've just come from there. The way that fellow talked bothered me so - last night that I couldn't sleep much. I got to thinking it over after I'd - gone to bed, and it struck me that if he wanted to cripple the line he'd - hardly stop at me. He'd go for Billy sure, for a good engineer isn't an - easy man to replace. And they tell me Billy hasn't been seen at his - boarding-house since noon yesterday.” - </p> - <p> - Very true, Captain Craig! A good suggestion just now when Halloran is - still shaking the sleep from his eyes and trying to get these amazing - facts in hand, and to relate them with certain suspicions that rose at the - first word. It will probably occur to Halloran, when once he shall get - facts, suspicions and all firmly gripped in his mind, that heads of trusts - do not fight haphazard; that if certain deliveries of timber are to be - prevented heads of trusts are not accustomed to move in vain. It is Mr. - Bigelow's habit to arrive at results: no getting off at way-stations for - G. Hyde Bigelow; and obstinate persons who venture on open warfare with - the Great must shake the sleep out very early in the morning if they hope - to reach even a way-station along the Bigelow line. Steamers cannot be run - without engineers: engineers cannot be had for the whistling in far-away - Michigan ports with but forty hours of grace—forty valuable hours - not a whit longer than other everyday hours; even shorter—hours that - were diminishing, were growing more valuable, would soon be precious. - </p> - <p> - “How much did this man offer you?” Halloran asked. - </p> - <p> - “Five hundred a year more salary and a bonus of five hundred extra, cash - down.” - </p> - <p> - “Did he show the money?” - </p> - <p> - “He had a big roll.” - </p> - <p> - “Meant business, didn't he?” said Halloran dryly. “First thing we do, we'd - better go down and see if we have anybody left. Then we can talk better.” - </p> - <p> - So they went down to the wharves, where they found a few wandering - deckhands by the silent steamer. Evidently deckhands were not important to - trusts. - </p> - <p> - “I guess Billy took the bait,” Halloran observed. “He is never as late as - this, is he?” - </p> - <p> - The Captain shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “Well, there is only one thing to do next, Captain. We've got to get her - down to Michigan City before to-morrow night whether the Trust likes it or - not. Do you suppose they've gobbled up the tug men, too?” - </p> - <p> - It was not a hard fact to discover, for there were only two tugs in the - harbour; and sure enough, when, twenty minutes later, the manager for - Higginson & Company and the Captain of the No. 1 met again on the - wharf, they were both beginning to understand how clean a sweep the Trust - people had made of it. The Captain was growing angrier every minute, and - so was Halloran. The rascality of it was what aroused the Captain. Waters - and winds he could understand, but the ways of men were beyond him. Two - days before, in Chicago, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow had announced that Higginson - & Company must not make the delivery at Michigan City; and this - resulting moment, with Halloran sitting on the iron cap of a snubbing-post - and the Captain standing silent before him, was a very dark moment for the - Wauchung interests. - </p> - <p> - “The damned old rascal,” said Halloran, reflectively. - </p> - <p> - Craig's dull eye suddenly flashed. - </p> - <p> - “I ought to have foreseen it,” he burst out. “It's the kind of thing to - expect from that Bigelow.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,” replied Halloran; “that's what I've been saying to myself. This is - a pretty fair sample of Bigelow's methods.” He was chagrined to think that - it could be done so easily. He had thought of anything, everything, but - this. - </p> - <p> - “I'd like to set Bigelow's head on that pile of two-by-fours,” Halloran - went on, “and have about three shots at him. I don't believe he'd know - himself the next time he looked in the glass.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain glanced at him mistrustfully. He liked this manager, but this - was not the time for jokes. - </p> - <p> - “Did you ever see him?” asked Halloran, swinging a leg on each side of the - snubbing-post and letting a twinkle come into his eyes as his thoughts - seemed to run on Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - The Captain sighed an impatient negative. - </p> - <p> - “He's a big, vain man. You ought to see him come into church Sunday - mornings and swell down the aisle, with his wife and children trotting - after him. He's proud of being thought the big financial man in the - church; and whenever they'll let him he gets up after the sermon and makes - a speech about the church debts. Great temperance man, too—likes to - preside at prohibition meetings and plead for the sanctity of the home.” - </p> - <p> - Captain Craig was scowling. Every moment the situation was growing more - serious; and here was the manager of the company, sitting on a - snubbing-post and swinging his legs. Men were needed now, thought the - Captain angrily—grown men, not children. - </p> - <p> - “One spring house-cleaning time—I generally put in the early - mornings and evenings there—G. Hyde called me in—I was putting - down the hall rugs just then—he called me in to light the gas. I had - a match ready to strike and he reached over and took it away from me and - put it back in the box. 'Young man,' he said—he never liked to - remember my name—'do you know how I rose from nothing to be the - owner of this property?' Then he picked up a burnt match, held it down to - the grate, and lighted the gas with that.” Hal-loran smiled a far-away - smile. “Aren't some of his steamers up at Pewaukoe now?” - </p> - <p> - The question was asked in the same careless voice, and it took the Captain - a moment to realize that the subject had been changed. Then he answered - with a puzzled expression: - </p> - <p> - “Yes; the G. H. Bigelow should have come in there two or three days ago. - The other boats are at Chicago or up on Lake Superior.” - </p> - <p> - “Big boat, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Got a good crew for her?” - </p> - <p> - The Captain, all at sea, could think of nothing but an affirmative to - this. - </p> - <p> - “What's the Captain's name?” - </p> - <p> - “Carpenter.” - </p> - <p> - “Who's the engineer?” - </p> - <p> - “Robbie MacGregor.” - </p> - <p> - “Good man?” - </p> - <p> - “Robbie? Certainly. None better.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran slid down off the post and looked at his watch. - </p> - <p> - “Old G. Hyde is getting up just about now. He's a great hand at early - rising—preaches a good deal about it—likes to say that if he - hadn't been brought up on a good old gentleman known as B. Franklin he'd - never be where he is now. Well, maybe he wouldn't.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain's temper was hanging on the edge of an explosion, but Halloran - went on. - </p> - <p> - “There's nothing to be done here now. Try to keep everything ready—if - you can pick up a man to fire up, I should—and we'll probably get - off this afternoon sometime.” And he strolled off, leaving the Captain to - stare after him and give vent to the first rumblings of a storm. - </p> - <p> - Halloran, in his old clothes and faded purple sweater and college cap, was - headed for the railroad station. At the station he took the Pewaukoe - train; at Pewaukoe he walked down to the mills, fairly certain that none - of Bigelow's men there would recognize him. The <i>G. H. Bigelow</i> lay - at the wharf, as Craig had said. She was taking on a cargo. - </p> - <p> - The mills were on the low ground by the river. From the road he could - overlook them and the great piles of lumber that crowded close to the - water's edge for hundreds of yards up and down stream, and he leaned on - the fence to take it in. As far up as he could see the river was blocked - with logs. The mills were singing and buzzing and humming—it was - plain that the Bigelow vitalizing process had begun, and that all hands - were being crowded on the work in order to sell lumber at a loss to - Higginson's customers. He thought he would walk down through the yards - toward the steamer. - </p> - <p> - As the unknown man, wearing a purple sweater and somewhat in need of a - shave, walked past the shore end of the nearer mill, the eyes of the - Superintendent fell upon him. A moment later the two met. - </p> - <p> - “How are you?” said the Superintendent, suspicious but civil. - </p> - <p> - “First rate. How are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Want to see any one?” - </p> - <p> - “No; just looking around.” - </p> - <p> - “Where were you going?” asked the Superintendent, trying to veil his - suspicions. - </p> - <p> - “Nowhere especially. I didn't suppose they'd be any objection if I watched - 'em loading the steamer.” - </p> - <p> - “No—certainly not.” This reluctantly. - </p> - <p> - “Got a great lot of lumber here, haven't you?” Halloran was looking, as he - spoke, at a long pile that extended to a point within fifty feet of the - mill. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; working nights right along—with all the men I can get. That - pile doesn't stay here; but we're so crowded I had to leave it over night—just - until I get the Bigelow loaded up. I'm going to put on a big force this - afternoon and carry it all down to the wharf. Some days lately we've been - so crowded I really haven't known how I was going to get things done.” - </p> - <p> - Slowly it was dawning on Halloran that he was suspected of being—not - the manager for Higgin-son & Company—but a lynx-eyed insurance - inspector, out running down violations of the clear-space clause. This - wouldn't do. It was not on his books to be drawn into an extended - conversation with Bigelow's superintendent. He would have to fall back on - lying if this were to keep up much longer. - </p> - <p> - “Say,” he observed, “what was that fellow doing down in the water, hopping - around on the logs with a long pole?” - </p> - <p> - The Superintendent was beginning to lose interest. - </p> - <p> - “He picks out logs of the right sizes.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say he can tell just by looking at a log in the water - what size it will cut to?” A curt nod was the only reply. - </p> - <p> - “Isn't it remarkable how a man can get trained to things? Now if I were to - try a thing like that———” - </p> - <p> - But the Superintendent had fled. - </p> - <p> - Halloran walked slowly on to the wharf, and stood watching the gangs that - were carrying the heavy sticks over the rail of the steamer. Two steam - hoists were clanking and rattling as the booms swung back and forth. - Bosses were shouting and swearing—everywhere was confusion, but - confusion that moved steadily onward toward the loading of the steamer. - Halloran dodged around the labourers and walked along the wharf until he - was opposite the engine-room door. Within was a fat man in overalls - tinkering over the machinery. Halloran climbed up to the deck and stood in - the doorway. - </p> - <p> - “How are you?” he observed. “Nice day!” The engineer nodded. - </p> - <p> - “You must be Mr. MacGregor, aren't you?” - </p> - <p> - “That's my name.” - </p> - <p> - “Mine is Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - MacGregor looked up, surprised. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I am with Higginson & Company.” - </p> - <p> - MacGregor did not know what to make of this. Halloran, however, went right - on. - </p> - <p> - “How do you like working for Bigelow?” And without leaving time to reply, - he added: “Mean old humbug, ain't he?” - </p> - <p> - “What do you know about Bigelow?” - </p> - <p> - “Used to work for him myself. I had all I wanted of him. He isn't square. - That's what brings me here. We need a good engineer, and Captain Craig - tells me you are the best on the lakes. Is that so?” - </p> - <p> - MacGregor's mind had not caught up yet; and Halloran continued: - </p> - <p> - “I want to take you back to Wauchung with me. We will raise your salary - five hundred dollars, and engage you for as long a time as you think - right! You know Higginson & Company—and you know we keep our - promises. Then you can tell Bigelow to go to hell if you want to. I know - how Bigelow's men feel.” He looked at his watch. “We can get the 9:53 - train down.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to go this morning?” said MacGregor. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; right off. You surely have an assistant you can leave in charge of - the engine.” - </p> - <p> - The fat man backed up against the opposite door and looked at Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “See here,” he said, “what does this mean?” - </p> - <p> - “Mean?”—Halloran's anger, that had been rising since six o'clock, - began to boil over—“Mean? It means that Bigelow has come into the - lumber business with the idea of running Higginson out. And if you know - anything about Martin L. Higginson you know that old Bigelow has bitten - off the biggest hunk he ever tried to get his mouth around. It means that - G. Hyde Bigelow's going to get such a hob-nailed roost in the breeches - that he'll be lucky to come down at all. He's going to have the whole - damned zodiac buzzing around in his head before he gets through with - Higginson—that's what it means! I've come up here this morning to - tell you that we want an engineer, and that you're the man we want. And we - want you to go on the 9:53 train—that's about forty minutes now.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0103.jpg" alt="0103 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0103.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - MacGregor was thinking hard. He knew a little about Bigelow and a good - deal more about Higginson. He liked the phrase, too—what was it—oh, - “the best engineer on the lakes.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't you give me a day to think it over, Mr. Halloran?” - </p> - <p> - “Sorry, but I'm afraid not. We need you right off.” - </p> - <p> - “What did you say your offer was?” - </p> - <p> - “What you think is fair. But I'll tell you flatly, we'll pay you more than - Bigelow will—five hundred a year more. You have just about - comfortable time to get up to your house and change your clothes. I'll - meet you at the station.” - </p> - <p> - “What if Bigelow should make trouble about my contract?” asked MacGregor - dubiously. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you worry a minute about that. We'll back you up to the last - notch.” - </p> - <p> - MacGregor thought it over a little longer. Then he turned his ponderous - frame and called to his assistant. - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he said over his shoulder to Halloran, “I'll meet you at the - station.” - </p> - <p> - At this moment Mr. William H. Babcock was rising from a hotel breakfast in - Grand Rapids and reaching for the toothpicks. As he strolled out to the - office to buy a paper he picked his teeth and smiled softly. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - Feeling painfully outside of it all—almost inclined to wonder if his - troubles were real, if the mills behind him, the lumber piled on either - side of him, the laden steamer before him were real; if this round world, - even, with its mixture of ups and downs and ins and outs, were real—Mr. - Higginson stood on the wharf at Captain Craig's side. The steamer's fires - had not yet been started and it was now after eleven o'clock. The - engineers had disappeared, and with them the oilers and stokers; the - wheelmen were gone, and the lookouts—nothing left in Wauchung but a - few deckhands. And now, to cap it all, Halloran had dropped suddenly off - the surface of the earth, leaving a certain old Scotch captain to rumble - internally and now and then to burst into eruption with scorching phrases - about boys that ought to be back in the nursery, about babes that had been - prematurely weaned. - </p> - <p> - Into this scene of gloom and desolation came Halloran, recognizable - half-way up to the mill by the purple sweater, carrying a bulging canvas - telescope; and following him, somewhat scant of breath, hurried a fat man - with a patent-leather valise. The gloomy ones observed them at the same - moment. Mr. Higginson gave a nervous start, then was swept by a feeling of - relief that almost brought a smile to his face. The Captain looked—and - looked—and—the rumblings ceased. Nothing further was heard - that day about nursing-bottles. - </p> - <p> - “Hallo, Robbie,” was all that Craig could bring himself to say when the - fat man had reached the wharf and set down his valise and begun swabbing - his face with a handkerchief that showed signs of use since he had fallen - into Halloran's hands. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson drew his manager aside. - </p> - <p> - “Who is this man?” - </p> - <p> - “He is the new engineer.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson's eyes shifted from Halloran to the fat man and back again - two or three times. Then, as time was pressing, he decided to ask no - questions. - </p> - <p> - “There is a man up the river that understands firing,” he said. “Crosman - has gone up to get him.” - </p> - <p> - “Have we any wheelmen?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, one of Craig's old men is in the mill. When do you plan to start?” - </p> - <p> - “Right away—as soon as we can fire up.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson was on the point of suggesting a wait until the next - morning, but he withheld this, too. And so Halloran, who had promised to - deliver the lumber by the morning of the fourteenth, and who would have, - taken the steamer down himself rather than give Bigelow the pleasure of - delaying him fifteen minutes, went on with the work of preparation. - </p> - <p> - At three o'clock that afternoon they were off, with one man in the - wheel-house, a quartet of clumsy deckhands in the stoke-hole, a devoutly - profane fat man in the engine-room, and one combined lookout and deckhand - by the name of Halloran—every man of them facing a solid twelve - hours on duty. Never had steamer gone out between the Wauchung piers in - such plight before. If the white-clad Swede in the lookout of the - life-saving station could have seen through the walls of this good ship <i>Higginson</i>, - could have known the facts that lay behind this brave front, he would have - wagged his head dubiously and long. - </p> - <p> - But the stars were kind on the thirteenth of this month. Captain Craig, - standing on the wheel-house and guiding her out toward deep water, found - himself looking on a flat mirror that blended, miles away, into the blue - sky. Streaked with wide reaches of green and purple and corn-colour was - Lake Michigan to-day—wearing her gladdest dress over a calm heart. - And Halloran and the Captain, both of whom knew her temper, who had met - once, indeed, when she was angriest, near Evanston a few years earlier—recognized - themselves for very lucky men. - </p> - <p> - And so the old <i>Higginson No. 1</i> headed southward, and plowed - deliberately down past Point Sable, and heaved out a long line of black - smoke just as if she had been a real full-handed steamer with real firemen - throwing coal into the greedy furnaces. There was even some enthusiasm - aboard; not one even of the stokers but knew dimly that they were - fighting. They even felt, the younger ones, like men marching into battle, - and when the <i>Higginson</i> was fairly out on the lake and swinging - around on her course, one amateur fireman of the watch below ran down the - ladder to pass the good news to his less fortunate brethren on duty. And - if the heat of the work had been less trying, these grimy fellows, - stripped to the drawers and covered with sweat and coal, might even have - given three cheers. - </p> - <p> - They ran down slowly, of course. It was getting on toward daylight when - the <i>Higginson</i> steamed into the harbour at Michigan City and tied up - at the wharf of the lumber company, and it was a heartily exhausted set of - men that rolled into their bunks to snatch a wink before day should come, - bringing more work with it. - </p> - <p> - At eight o'clock Halloran walked over to the Company's office and inquired - for the manager. - </p> - <p> - “I'm Halloran,” he said, “of Higginson & Company. How soon can you - begin unloading?” - </p> - <p> - “Right away,” replied the manager civilly, but with an odd expression. - “I'm just sending some men down.” His surprise was so great that it had to - find some expression. He seemed to be thinking it over as he left his desk - to go to the wharf. Finally, with an effort at an off-hand manner, he - added, “You're prompt on time.” - </p> - <p> - “Sure,” replied Halloran. “Why not?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—A Venture in Matrimony - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was Saturday - night on the North Side, and shortly after six o'clock. That part of the - world that centres in North Clark Street between Lincoln Park and the - Bridge was already beginning to stir and stretch and shake off the dust of - the day; was swarming in from scores of cross streets, to parade before - the show-windows and pour into the beer-gardens and restaurants, to crowd - at the corners—a motley company of washed and unwashed; of labourers - and shopgirls hurrying home, and of more fortunate ones, old and young, - sauntering from home, to get out of life what North Clark Street had to - offer. - </p> - <p> - Strains of dance music floated out over board fences that were gaudy with - posters, out over evergreen hedges that thrived in green tubs. All the - world was gay to-night; all the world was in the mood to sit at white - tables under the trees and dine on the best of German fare, to tip back - and listen to German music from German orchestras, to toss the waiter half - a dollar; life was gay, life was jolly; all was well with the world. No - half-lights here, no miserly crouching in shadows, no gloomy ones to spoil - it all; nothing but froth on the glass, a laugh on the lip, and here's - looking at you! - </p> - <p> - But think again. Of all these houses of amusement was there not one - standing empty—was there not one where gloom reigned? Glance along - the street, pass the policeman on the corner—the fat policeman, for - whose sake we will hope all thieves are slow of foot—down past other - corners and other fat policemen, down almost to the river, so near that - the smell of the water poisons the air. Was there not a dingy little - playhouse, overwhelmed by the soot and grime of the city, by the noise of - the trains that seemed to be rushing into the building with bells ringing - and every steam-valve open—overwhelmed, too, by the rattle and - struggle of the street, and the large buildings that crowded so close on - each side that they threatened to come together with a snap and leave no - trace of the dingy little structure with its <i>porte cochere</i> front. - If there was, anywhere in this big city, a building that spoke of failure, - of pitiful inadequacy for any metropolitan purpose, of aimlessness and - inevitable wreckage, here it stood, bearing the hesitating announcement - that within might be found Somebody's Original Oriental Burlesquers and - Refined Vaudeville. - </p> - <p> - Not long after six o'clock was it, and the lingering remnants of a very - thin audience were rapidly escaping before the onslaught of the “chasers.” - The particular chaser that held the stage at the moment was a tall, thin - young man, rather nimble as to the legs, who was exercising a sound pair - of lungs on a song, a tender memory of a certain Bridget O'Grady, who, he - vowed, was a perfect lady. The fiddles squeaked and rasped, the piano - tinkled, the bass viol rumbled in loudest of all; and the audience grew - thinner and thinner—narrowed down, in fact, to a few questionable - individuals who had, one feared, no better place to go. After the song - there was a dance in which the nimble legs appeared to some advantage. And - if we had been tucked away in a corner of that dirty stage, behind the - wings that were slit and frayed from years of service—if we had - watched the Irish vocalist when he came off and readjusted his carroty - wig, we could not have failed to recognize in the possessor of the nimble - legs and the sound lungs our old friend Apples. - </p> - <p> - Somewhere in the course of his career Apples had dropped a stitch; for the - goal of all true Thespians, the myriad-minded Shakespeare, was still only - a waking dream for Apples, was still no more than a twinkling - constellation that shone and shone in the far heavens, serenely - unconscious that one Appleton Le Duc was striving upward. But was it not - an encouragement to recall the inspiriting words of the professor of - elocution, that Shakespeare himself had been a country boy; that he, too, - had gone to the city to seek his fortune; that he, too, had stumbled and - struggled, and climbed and climbed until he had reached the highest - pinnacle of fame? - </p> - <p> - Something was certainly on the mind of the rising actor to-night—something - that elevated him above the dingy hall and the sleepy audience. Pausing - only to mop his brow, back he went in response to his encore—the - encore that was mentioned in his contract—as cheerfully as if the - audience had really given him a hand; and the sound lungs burst out again, - to another scraping, tinkling, rumbling accompaniment; and the voice of - Apples rose high in the praise of 'Mary, my fairy, the Maid of Ochlone,' - whose heart-dum-de-dumdy-dum-surely-my-own. The sight of a newspaper - spread wide before the face of the only occupant of an orchestra seat - could not disturb Apples this evening; the glimpse of two newsboys in the - gallery, aiming with peanuts at the bald head behind the newspaper, could - not so much as ruffle him; for golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy, - dee-iddle-dee-airy, ta raddle-my-own. Very blithe was Apples, strangely - blithe for an underpaid chaser in the most despondent theatre on the North - Side. - </p> - <p> - There was another little scene taking place at this time in which we are - interested. In the lodging of Mrs. Craig—not two rooms now, but one, - with a decrepit cook-stove in one corner and a ragged quilt hung across - another corner to serve as a partition between George's bedroom and the - rest of the space—a silent woman was cooking a meager supper. A very - silent woman was Mrs. Craig at this time, even more so than formerly. The - room was hot and close with the odour of cooking. - </p> - <p> - Into this home, at a little before six, came Lizzie Bigelow, grown rather - more mature in appearance since we last saw her, of a rounder figure and a - brighter colour. She was in good spirits to-night. By some miracle she was - as fresh and healthy as if she had been given nothing but the best of - food, the purest air and plenty of time for exercise; and to the mother it - seemed as if a whiff of fresh air had come with her into the room. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Lizzie, you are back early.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I got off at half-past five. Where is George?” - </p> - <p> - “He has to work late to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes; I forgot. You are tired, ma. You sit down awhile and let me - finish the supper.” She was throwing aside her hat and jacket as she - spoke, and she smiled at her mother in a way that brought an expression of - gratefulness and surprise to the face of the older woman. “Now you just - sit down awhile. I'm going to get supper ready to-night.” - </p> - <p> - It appeared that she really meant it; and the mother, after a little - protesting, made way for her by the stove. Indeed, it promised to be quite - a jolly evening, if only George could get home in time to share it. Even - without him, what with a merry recital of the funny things that had - happened at the office during the day, and with other talk of an equally - unusual good humour, Mrs. Craig was almost bewildered. She knew only too - well how unexpectedly Lizzie's high spirits could turn corners, how - petulant this merry, black-eyed girl could be. - </p> - <p> - After supper, announcing that she was going to get a breath of fresh air, - Lizzie went out, first ingeniously smuggling a small package outside the - door under pretense of opening it for air. Next she put on her hat and - jacket and stood for a moment smiling; finally she bent over her mother - and kissed her, an act so surprising that Mrs. Craig flushed with - pleasure. Then, with a nervous little laugh and a fling of her skirts, she - had whisked out and the door was closed. There was a pause at the top of - the stairs while she fumbled in her pocket for a folded slip of paper - which she tucked silently into the crack of the door; but at last she was - off, running down the stairs with her bundle held tightly under her - jacket, and hurrying across the street to avoid meeting George in case he - should be returning home at this hour. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - The encore was over and Apples was hurrying, wig in hand, to the - dressing-room. There he threw off his costume, dressed for the street, - packed all his “properties” hastily in an old valise, and went out at the - stage-door. The doorkeeper nodded to him. - </p> - <p> - “You're off now, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I'm through here.” - </p> - <p> - “Got your pay?” - </p> - <p> - “Some of it.” - </p> - <p> - “You're lucky.” - </p> - <p> - “Guess I am. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - Apples, still hurrying, still wanting breath, turned the corner, paused, - looked up the street and down, seemed disappointed and irresolute, and - finally turned his valise on end and sat on it. From where he sat in the - shadow of a dark building he could see the flow of life along North Clark - Street, and he watched it nervously. He seemed somewhat oppressed by the - rush and whirl of things, as if in mid-course of a tempestuous career he - had paused to think. The soot-laden air was portentous to-night; the - rattle and rumble of the street, the guffaws from the actors' saloon at - his elbow, the roar and hurry of it all, bore heavily on his spirits as he - sat waiting there. For Apples was on the brink of something—something - new and strange. Before him lay an unexplored country, and who could say - if it should prove a land of roses or a black abyss. For better or worse - it was to be, a plunge into the future, vastly unlike certain other - plunges that he had been forced to take—alone. Circumstances had - swept him on; the offer had come, bearing the guarantee that at last his - name should appear on all posters in letters not shorter than three and - one-half inches; the other one, whose face and voice had helped to make it - all possible, was willing, with a fluttering heart, to keep her promise; - the small boy with the wizened face, whose thin legs were to help make - their joint fortunes, had jumped at the chance; and here he was on the - brink. Henceforth the three Le Ducs, three, were to be a feature in the - theatrical world. And the black sky, bearing oppressively down like an - emblem of great grim Chicago, was portentous indeed. - </p> - <p> - At last a woman, with a small package under her jacket, slipped out from - the crowd and came hesitatingly down the side street. Apples rose. - </p> - <p> - “Hello,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “Hello.” - </p> - <p> - “Got everything?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; where's Jimmie?” - </p> - <p> - “He's waiting at the pier.” - </p> - <p> - And so, without speaking further, these two young persons, who were about - to take the plunge hand in hand, set out together toward the east. A block - farther on she said, with a show of petulance, “Have we got to take Jimmie - along?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Yes, we'd have to come back here if we didn't. We've got to join the - company Monday night, you know, at South Bend.” - </p> - <p> - They crossed over the Rush Street bridge and took the early steamer for - St. Joseph. From now on they should have no difficulty. There was a - reverend person in St. Joseph who was always glad to marry foolish young - men and foolish young girls, for a consideration. And this reverend one, - in the evening's rest after a day given to guiding his flock heavenward, - could surely find a few moments in which to make these two one. They could - be sure of finding discretion here, sure that no awkward questions would - be asked, that no permission from unreasonable parents would be hinted at; - sure, in brief, that the good divine would be entirely at their service, - would wish them Godspeed on the up-road or the down-road or any - conceivable road—for a consideration. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VI—A Shut-down - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he weeks went - spinning by. Both sides were losing so heavily that the fight was becoming - grim. On the one hand, Bigelow, with his unreasonable directors to keep in - line, was closing in relentlessly on the Wauchung interests; on the other - hand, Higginson & Company were holding on with an endurance that - puzzled Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - And it was at this time, when affairs were leaping along toward a crisis, - that Doctor Brown of Wauchung took a hand by ordering Mr. Higginson to - bed. Nothing but a complete rest could save him from a breakdown, said the - Doctor—news which brought Mrs. Higginson down with nervous - exhaustion, which set Mamie's wits a-fluttering, which complicated matters - somewhat for Halloran. The longer Halloran studied the business, the - longer he pored over statements of profits and statements of losses that - could not be brought together, the plainer became the facts.. Ideas were - floating in his head, ideas so nearly what he wanted that he knew it would - be only a question of time before he could catch one or the other of them - and bring it down into the world of reality—ideas that were later to - be brought to bear, perhaps, on Bigelow and his combination; but meanwhile - his course was clear. The logical next step was to shut down the mills. - </p> - <p> - He dared not think of all the details in connection with such a step, of - what it would mean to Mr. Higginson, to the hundreds of men who had grown - up in the work, or to what few other business interests there were in - Wauchung; the mere consideration of the moral issue involved led into such - a maze of pros and cons that he resolutely set it aside and kept his mind - fixed on the business facts. If this step were not taken, the heavy - expense of maintenance would swamp Higginson & Company and everybody - connected with them so deep that all the king's horses could not drag them - out; by shutting down, on the other hand, he could prolong the fight. The - trust would be free to continue selling at a loss; but Higginson & - Company would be enabled to leave their timber growing in the forest until - prices should reach normal again. - </p> - <p> - As Mr. Higginson's whole fortune was in the business, his income was now - next to nothing; but Halloran believed he could hold out six months or so - longer. On the other hand, he did not think Bigelow could last so long at - the head of a losing venture. Indeed, if for one moment of those tense - days he had lost his belief that Bigelow could be beaten, Halloran would - have dropped out of this story on this page. - </p> - <p> - One evening Doctor Brown received a call from the Manager. - </p> - <p> - “Now, Doctor,” said Halloran, when they were seated in the office, “what - can you tell me about Mr. Higginson? Is he better?” - </p> - <p> - The physician shook his head. “No—no better.” - </p> - <p> - “You consider his case serious?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes,”—gravely—“it is serious.” - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you, Doctor—for you must understand it before you can - answer me—that the business is in a situation that demands his - attention if he is able to give it—even for five minutes.” - </p> - <p> - Doctor Brown shook his head again. - </p> - <p> - “Could I not lay a decision before him, Doctor, if I make it as clear and - simple as possible?” - </p> - <p> - “No; a decision would be the last thing to bother him with.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran sat thinking. This was difficult—very difficult, indeed. - Shutting down another man's mills without his knowledge was not the sort - of thing he liked to do. The physician spoke again: - </p> - <p> - “His mind <i>must</i> have a rest, Mr. Halloran; that is the only way we - can save him.” - </p> - <p> - This was final, and Halloran went out to return to his room and pore again - over accounts and statements, to think again of Bigelow, to grope again - for those ideas that seemed so nearly what he wanted. For another week he - watched the expense account mounting up; then one day he sent for Crosman - to come to his office. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Crosman,” he said, “the mills will shut down Saturday night. Will you - please see that the men are notified?” - </p> - <p> - Crosman looked at Halloran for a moment to make sure that he understood; - then with a puzzled expression he left the room. Later in the day he met - Halloran in the yard. - </p> - <p> - “Am I——— Do you want me to leave Saturday?” he asked, - his voice full of emotion. - </p> - <p> - “No,” the Manager replied shortly, “you stay; I want you.” - </p> - <p> - That evening Halloran was at work in his room when Crosman came in. - </p> - <p> - “I just happened around at Higginson's,” he said, evidently somewhat - embarrassed, “and Mamie said that her father wants to see you.” - </p> - <p> - “When—now?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I believe so.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran pushed aside his work with a thoughtful face. Presently he said: - </p> - <p> - “If you are going back that way, I'll walk along with you.” - </p> - <p> - The door was opened by Mamie herself. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, Mr. Halloran,” she cried, “I don't know what to say. Father isn't - well at all—he's so nervous and excitable. Doctor Brown told me this - morning not to let him see you at all, but he says he must see you—he - made me send Harry as soon as he got here. I haven't known what to do.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran heard her through, then he went directly up-stairs. Mr. - Higginson's room was dimly lighted, and it was a moment before his eyes - could distinguish clearly; but when he finally made out the thin figure - propped up on the bed he was shocked at the change the sickness had - wrought. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down,” Mr. Higginson was saying. “Tell me what this means.” His voice - was tremulous with feeling. “What is this they have been telling me about - closing the mills?” - </p> - <p> - “It is true. I have arranged to shut down Saturday night.” - </p> - <p> - “True, is it?” The lean old figure stirred on its pillows; the thin - fingers closed tightly on a fold of the bedclothes. “Do you know what you - are saying, man?” - </p> - <p> - “We can't afford to pay men for doing nothing, Mr. Higginson.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you realize what this means?” The old man raised himself on his elbow; - he found it difficult to control his voice. “Do you know that I brought - those men here, that I have supported some of them for thirty years? Do - you think they can be cast off to starve? Why didn't you come to me with - this? What do you mean by settling it out of hand?” - </p> - <p> - “I haven't been allowed to see you.” - </p> - <p> - “Not been allowed! Is this a conspiracy? There's some meaning to this, - Halloran. I insist upon knowing it. Do you mean that I have got to the - end? Have we lost?” The last few words were spoken with a sudden return to - calmness; but his eyes were shining. - </p> - <p> - “No, not at all. I think we shall win.” - </p> - <p> - “You think!—for God's sake, Halloran, speak out and have it over - with. What's the matter—what has happened?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran came over and sat on the edge of the bed where he could talk in a - quiet voice; “We have not lost, Mr. Higginson, and what's more, we aren't - going to lose. Bigelow's people have got to keep on selling below cost - until something happens. We certainly couldn't go on running full- handed - without a cent of income. By shutting down we can hold out longer than - they can. It's hard on the men, but it is hard on the rest of us, too. - It's the only way we can meet them.” - </p> - <p> - Even a sick man could see the soundness of this. And somehow the presence - of his manager, with his air of health and confidence, went a long ways - toward restoring, for the moment, the balance of Mr. Higginson's mind. He - fell back on the pillows, unstrung after his excitement, but somewhat - relieved. - </p> - <p> - Halloran said good-night and went downstairs. Mamie heard his step and, - leaving Crosman in the sitting-room, she met him in the hall. - </p> - <p> - “I meant to tell you not to come down yet,” she said with lowered eyes. - “Ma said that she wanted to see you when you came in. I'll go ahead if you - don't mind.” - </p> - <p> - He followed her to another upstairs room, where he found Mrs. Higginson on - a couch, dressed in the daintiest of lace-trimmed dressing-sacks. She - looked up when he entered and motioned wearily to a chair. - </p> - <p> - “It is kind of you to come,” she said. “Mamie, dear, won't you get me my - heavy shawl?” - </p> - <p> - Mamie, understanding, left the room and did not hurry back. - </p> - <p> - “I want to talk with you about our dear girl,” began Mrs. Higginson. “Of - course, if the worst should happen—you understand———-” - Here her emotion overcame her for a moment. “You can understand what a - shock it has been to me. Mr. H. had not told me of the trouble, and the - news that he had failed came like a thunderbolt. I don't mind for myself—but - if anything should happen—if the worst—I could go so much—so - much easier—if I knew that Mamie was provided for. You will be good - to her, John? You will forgive me for calling you John? It is the way Mr. - H. always spoke of you at home———” She was obliged to - pause again. “I am afraid he will never c—call you John again.” - </p> - <p> - Her handkerchief went up to her eyes; and Halloran sat back and looked - hard at a picture of the first Higginson mill, in oils, that hung over the - mantel. - </p> - <p> - “I suppose we shall have to sell the house,” she went on, rallying. “You - will know best about that, John. I am sure you will act for the best, and - save what you can for our little girl. You will be good to her—I am - sure you will. She has learned to admire you very much. And when we are—when - we are no longer—and the house is gone——” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing of that sort will be necessary,” broke in Halloran, glad to - relieve her mind and the gloom at the same time. “The house needn't be - sold. I think we shall have the mills running again before so very long.” - </p> - <p> - He saw, as he spoke, that his words struck a discordant note. She looked - at him incredulously. - </p> - <p> - “It isn't so bad as it sounds————” He meant to - make it better, but, failing, stopped. - </p> - <p> - “Do you mean that we have been given this shock for nothing?” she asked, - with returning strength. - </p> - <p> - The only way out was retreat. He rose, saying, “I hope to have good news - for you soon,” and bowed a good-night. - </p> - <p> - He found Mamie sitting on the stairs in the dark with the shawl across her - lap. She got up with a little sob and stood back against the rail for him - to pass. - </p> - <p> - “Cheer up, Miss Higginson,” he said in a low voice, “It isn't a failure at - all. We are getting on as well as we could expect.” - </p> - <p> - She put both hands on the railing to steady herself and looked up at him - in amazement. - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean that!” she whispered, “what you said?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded. “You needn't bother about it at all. Everything is all right.” - </p> - <p> - She Still doubted. “But the mills?” - </p> - <p> - “The mills will be running soon.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, really?” she said, almost wonderingly. “Really?” - </p> - <p> - The sobs were coming again. She caught his hand in both of hers and held - it tightly. “Then there isn't any failure—and you are going to save - our home for us?” - </p> - <p> - This was frying-pan to fire. Halloran answered hastily: - </p> - <p> - “It won't be necessary to save it. We shall be all right again soon.” - </p> - <p> - His matter-of-fact tone brought her to herself. She released his hand and, - suddenly plunged into confusion, hurried upstairs. - </p> - <p> - On his way out Halloran paused in the hall. Through the wide doorway he - could see Crosman, out in the sitting-room, striding around with his hands - in his pockets. - </p> - <p> - “Good-night, Crosman,” he ventured. - </p> - <p> - But the other would not hear him; and Halloran, feeling as if he had been - put through a wringer, went out. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—Halloran Goes to Chicago - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he next morning—it - chanced to be a Friday—Crosman came over to Halloran's desk. - </p> - <p> - “Have you a couple of minutes?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Surely. More than I want. Sit down.” - </p> - <p> - Crosman did not take the offered chair, but leaned on the desk. - </p> - <p> - “Miss Higginson spoke to me last night,” he said, with visible effort, - “about the family expenses. She thinks they ought to reduce them all - around, but you, she says, are the only one that knows about it. I - suggested that she talk it over with you herself; but she didn't want to, - for some reason.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran swung back in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know how well you understand this business, Crosman. It simply - amounts to this: The combine people are selling lumber below cost to run - us out of business, and we have shut down to let them go ahead until - they're sick of it. When the price rises we'll start up again. Of course - all this makes a big difference in Mr. Higginson's income. I suppose - there's no use trying to make that plain to women, but if you can do - anything to clear the air you'd better go talk to them. Anyhow, don't let - them make any difference in their living. We mustn't do anything that will - scare people; the Higginson credit is good, and it's our business to keep - it good.” - </p> - <p> - He meditated a moment and then looked up and said abruptly: - </p> - <p> - “Look here, Crosman, you can do me a favour if you want to. Mr. - Higginson's sickness seems to have left me in charge of his family - finances. Now suppose you take the whole business off my hands. You know - both Mrs. Higginson and Miss Higginson better than I do; and I think it - would be a good deal easier for them to talk things over with you than - with me. You can let me know if anything special comes up and I'll help - you work it out. How does that strike you?” - </p> - <p> - “All right,” he managed finally to get out. “I'll try it.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't believe this giving away lumber can last much longer,” said - Halloran. - </p> - <p> - Something about those phrases that had been floating in Halloran's mind - for weeks, “giving away lumber,” “selling at a loss,” “selling to our - customers,” stuck in his thoughts now. He sat there, leaning back in his - swivel-chair gazing at the rows of pigeon-holes—Crosman still - leaning on the desk—while his mind sailed off to Pewaukoe; he saw - again the great yards of the Bigelow Company crowded full of lumber—the - mills droning ceaselessly, the scores of men swarming over the work, the - steamer hurrying the cargo—and he thought again “all this is to be - sold below cost to our customers.” - </p> - <p> - Then Halloran's chair came down with a bang and his open hand slapped the - desk. He had got it. The idea that had evaded him all these weeks was - finally run to cover, was bagged securely. And the simplicity of it all, - the feeling of utter imbecility in having failed to see it before, left - him limp. But he recovered. - </p> - <p> - “Crosman,” he said, “I'm going to Chicago to-night and may not get back - before the first of the week. You look out for things here, will you?” - </p> - <p> - The assistant was growing hardened to surprises. He merely nodded now, - with a curious expression. - </p> - <p> - Halloran had got it. And for a moment he could only say to himself, over - and over: “What a fool! What a fool!” He could only think of that - tremendous output of lumber thrown on the market for a song. “Selling to - our customers, eh,” he thought; “selling to our customers!” - </p> - <p> - “Crosman,” he said, when he felt that he was on his legs again, “we're - going to buy lumber.” - </p> - <p> - Crosman did not grasp it at first. - </p> - <p> - “We're going to buy lumber—all we can get,” Halloran repeated; “and - I'm going down to get the money.” - </p> - <p> - It was sinking into Crosman's head—slowly he was gripping it, this - idea of Halloran's. Higgin-son & Company were going to buy lumber, - were going to buy it below cost—great quantities of it—to buy - it secretly, in many places, under many names, at half the normal price; - they would sell it later at or above normal. Then at last Crosman looked - at Halloran and grinned—broadly, happily. And Halloran said to - himself again: “What a fool! <i>Oh</i>, what a fool!” - </p> - <p> - There was much to be done that day. Crosman must have full instructions - for prompt action; the moment Halloran's message should come up from - Chicago he must cross the lake to Milwaukee, and from there command the - Wisconsin shore. Halloran himself would set the Chicago end of the line in - motion. Scattered here and there around the lake were men who had - occasionally handled business for Higginson & Company. These were to - be retained, wherever possible, and set to buying in Trust lumber. - Everything must be done secretly; every opportunity must be seized. There - would be storage to arrange for in a dozen cities, and insurance; there - were a score and odd contingencies to be foreseen and provided against, a - maximum price to be agreed on for each necessary step. But the figuring - and the talking had an end; and when Halloran finally jumped on the night - train and was rolled off toward Chicago he felt that Bigelow's flank was - as good as turned. - </p> - <p> - There was one bank in Chicago with which Mr. Higginson had been doing - business for twenty years. Thither Halloran went, shook hands with the - cashier and laid bare the situation. The cashier already knew a good deal - about the fight, and was interested to fill up the gaps in his - information. - </p> - <p> - “What is it you plan to do, Mr. Halloran?” he asked when they had talked - over the situation. - </p> - <p> - “We are going to buy lumber.” - </p> - <p> - The cashier inclined his head to show that he understood perfectly. - </p> - <p> - “We can buy it now for one or two dollars less than it costs us to get it - out of our own woods,” Halloran added. - </p> - <p> - This interested the cashier very much indeed. Higginson & Company were - good, all the way through; and their manager seemed to have a keen - business sense. Mr. Higginson's sickness entered his calculations; but - still the investment was sound. The amount must be discussed and one or - two details mentioned. But it was after a very few minutes of talk that - the cashier said: - </p> - <p> - “We shall be very glad to let you have the money, Mr. Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - The arrangements were soon made. Then Hal-loran said good-morning and went - down to the telegraph office in the basement of the building. And as this - short message hummed over the wires to Crosman, “<i>Go ahead. Halloran</i>,” - he walked out into the street to begin the battle. All idleness was over - now for Halloran—all merely defensive work, all waiting for results. - From now on it was to be straight-out fighting; and he knew that the best - man would win. - </p> - <p> - Before that Saturday afternoon was far advanced Halloran's agents were at - work. Their instructions were simple. “Buy all the one-inch and two-inch - stuff you can get, pine and hemlock, in regular lengths and widths,” was - what he had said, in starting them out; and before evening orders had been - placed in Chicago alone for nearly a million feet. The work would be - pushed still further on Monday and Tuesday. Every company in the “combine” - would be given an opportunity to sell heavily. - </p> - <p> - Farther up Lake Michigan Crosman was working with equal energy. It was a - chance for Crosman, an opportunity to show his metal, and he realized it. - There had been some pulling at odds in the office, and the assistant had - perhaps been inclined to misunderstand Halloran in more ways than one; but - all that was now swept away, and the enthusiasm of vigorous work was in - him. - </p> - <p> - For the first time since the fight began he fully understood it; he had - been made to see that there was a possibility of winning. And when - Halloran's message reached him that morning and he realized that no - regular steamer would cross the lake before evening, he hurried a tug into - commission, and with Captain Craig and MacGregor to get him over he made - the passage to Milwaukee in less than seven hours. Late as it was when he - arrived, he not only organized the work for Monday, but succeeded in - placing the first few orders. - </p> - <p> - And so it fell out that the reduction in price, made solely to ruin - Higginson, was suddenly and unexpectedly turned to his advantage. The busy - companies that were scattered about the northern shores of the lake did - not know this yet—did not dream that they were crowding extra shifts - of men into their mills to help out Higginson, that the logs floating down - a score of rivers in both peninsulas were to be cut for Higginson, that - the steamers loading at a score of wharves were running for Higginson, - that the long list of lake towns from which had arisen the heavy demand - for lumber were buying for Higginson. They did not know these things, and - Halloran did not mean that they should know them. - </p> - <p> - Perhaps it was the knowledge of all this, and the natural elation after - such a day's work, that between them took Halloran's actions out of his - own hands that Saturday evening. There were times when he was likely to - surprise himself; this seemed to be one of them. During these past three - years he had been in Chicago a number of times, but always only to - transact his business and go directly back to Wauchung, always heeding - that stubborn quality somewhere within him that had had so much to do with - pulling him up from nothing and pushing him on in the world, that had kept - him out of foolishness on at least one important occasion. He had managed, - until now, to side with the stubborn quality against a certain impulse - that had occasionally given him trouble, but to-night the impulse caught - him off his guard. There were a good many things he might have done—there - were even one or two details of the fight still to be studied out—but - the impulse, once securely planted in authority, swept aside every other - thought. And so, after dinner, Halloran caught a train for Evanston. - </p> - <p> - An odd feeling took possession of him when he found himself once more, - after three years, on the scene of his struggles. It did not seem so long - ago. That he had greatly changed he knew; since the days of - furnace-tending, and study, and work as a surfman, and all the other - interests that had crowded those earlier years, he had thrown himself out - into the world. He had come to know something of the joy of directing men - and events, of playing a positive part in the life about him. He had come - to love the fighting, to love the play of fact upon fact and mind upon - mind. During the last year he had begun to understand the feeling of the - trained swimmer when he plunges into deep water. There was the - exhilaration, not only of keeping afloat where weak men sink, but of - laying a course and following it, sure of his strength and endurance. - While this change was taking place in him he had been inclined to forget - that these three years were, after all, but a ninth or tenth part of his - life so far, and that the other nine-tenths were also a fact. But - to-night, as he walked up toward the Ridge where the big houses stood, he - felt that he was taking up his old life where he had laid it down that day - when he took the boat for Wauchung. And somehow he was not so sure of - himself as he had been when he said good-morning to the cashier. - </p> - <p> - He was almost relieved to find that Miss Davies and her mother had stepped - across the way. They would be back soon, he was told; so he went in, left - his hat and coat in the hall, and walked in through the parlour to the - long sitting-room, where there were rows upon rows of books and a - round-edged table covered with other books and with magazines, and a great - fireplace with a wood fire burning to take the edge off the evening air. - </p> - <p> - He sat down in the Morris chair by the table and picked up a book—he - had not had time to read much of late years. But after a moment of turning - the pages the book was lowered to his knees and his eyes looked over it at - the fire. There had been a time when he had laid that fire regularly every - morning, and now to be sitting here, suddenly conscious that his life had - taken a new direction, that he was older, and that his clothes were better—that - he was, in fact, another person altogether—was odd and haunting, was - almost disconcerting. - </p> - <p> - He heard the front door open. There was a rustle out in the hall, and - voices. He let his head fall against the back of his chair and turned his - face toward the parlour door. He hardly knew what to make of himself; he - was almost afraid he had emotions. Certainly a peculiar disturbance was - going on somewhere within him, such a disturbance as hardly could be - looked for within the manager of a lumber company. He did not like it at - all. He wondered why she was so long about coming in. Perhaps she would go - on upstairs, not knowing he was there; and that would be awkward. - Altogether, it was probably a good thing that Halloran had come out to - Evanston before the new life had succeeded in withdrawing him finally from - the old, before the proportion of one-tenth to nine-tenths had been evened - up and he had wholly changed into Michigan lumber—a very good thing - indeed. - </p> - <p> - She came in through the hall doorway and paused surprised. He felt himself - rising and standing with his back to the table and the light. She came - slowly forward, inclining her head a little to get the light out of her - eyes so that she could see his face. The disturbance, now increasing in - that strange new part of him, out of all proportion to the occasion, - called his attention to her reserve, to the something—was it pride?—that - had disturbed him in other days; it taunted him with her firm carriage, - her fine, thoughtful face; it reminded him of her real superiority, the - superiority that comes only from pride in right living; and so Halloran, - the vigorous, the elated, at the moment of greeting an old friend in her - own house, was so far from equal to the situation that for the life of him - he could think of nothing but certain raw facts in his own bringing-up, or - fighting-up, whichever it might be called. And not a word did he say—simply - waited. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0139.jpg" alt="0139 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0139.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - She came a few steps nearer and hesitated. Then, after an instant, her - whole expression changed. Her eyes lighted up with gladness so real that - even he could not misread it; and she came rapidly forward with - outstretched hand. - </p> - <p> - “Why, John Halloran,” she cried; “where did you come from?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—The Question - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>e took her hand, - and their eyes met. Until now it had not occurred to him that she, too, - had changed. Her expression even was different; three years earlier she - had been living earnestly, intensely—she had felt the unequal - burdens of the world and had plunged fearlessly into vast problems, but - now she seemed more impersonal, more detached. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I will speak to mother.” - </p> - <p> - There were more greetings to be gone through. They sat about the fire for - awhile; and Halloran had to give an account of himself, and had to listen - to Mrs. Davies's open approval of him. She had heard of him now and then; - she had known from the first that he would get on; she was downright proud - of him, in fact. This was something of an ordeal, and he felt relieved - when she withdrew and left Margaret with him. - </p> - <p> - The two stood for a moment looking into the fire; then she nodded toward - the Morris chair and he dropped into it. She sat down on the other side of - the table and propped up her chin on her two hands. For a moment they sat - looking at each other. Finally they both smiled. - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she observed, “we've been growing up, haven't we?” - </p> - <p> - So she had remarked it, too. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I guess we have,” he replied. “Rather more than I had thought.” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't expect to find me the same girl you left here, did you?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran gazed moodily into the fire. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know. I couldn't say just what I did expect.” - </p> - <p> - “But it's different, anyway, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded. - </p> - <p> - “And now you don't like it because you think we shall have to begin all - over again getting acquainted?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded again. Then, looking up, he was assured by her friendly smile. - She slowly shook her head at him. - </p> - <p> - “That isn't quite fair,” she went on. “Here I have been staying right at - home and doing the same things all these three years. If I have grown a - little older, I couldn't help it very well. But you have grown to be a - business man with ever so many interests, and I suppose you are very - successful—anyway, you have changed so much I hardly knew you. How - long are you going to be here?” - </p> - <p> - “Until Monday or Tuesday.” - </p> - <p> - “You must come to dinner to-morrow, then. You'd better come planning to - spend the rest of the day.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks, I will. How is George?” - </p> - <p> - Her face grew serious. “He has been giving me a good deal of trouble - lately. I don't know what to make of him. He lost his home, you know—or - maybe you don't. Have you heard the story?” - </p> - <p> - “No.” - </p> - <p> - “It is a strange one. To begin with, his sister Elizabeth eloped with Mr. - Le Duc.” - </p> - <p> - “Not Apples?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0159.jpg" alt="0159 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0159.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Yes; they were married in St. Joe, and she went on the stage with him. - Jimmie McGinnis is with them, too. They call themselves the three Le Ducs, - I believe. And Mrs. Craig lost her position. The Le Ducs are in Chicago - now, at a cheap theatre, and Mrs. Craig is living with them; but they - refused to take George, too. They seem to grudge her even the little they - do. So George was turned out into the street and got into bad company, and - now he's in jail. I don't think it's as bad as it sounds. His companions - are a good deal older, and Mr. Babcock, who has been looking after him, - says he will undoubtedly be released. I almost wrote you about it a little - while ago.” - </p> - <p> - “I wish you had.” - </p> - <p> - “Well,” she hesitated, “I didn't know—it has been so long.” She - looked up. “To tell the truth, I didn't know whether you were still - interested.” - </p> - <p> - He rose and went over to the mantel. The fire was low and he heaped it up - with the largest sticks in the wood-box; then dropping on one knee he took - up the bellows and had it roaring in a moment. - </p> - <p> - “I like a big fire,” he said, over his shoulder. - </p> - <p> - She nodded and let her eyes rest on him as he worked over the fire. Yes, - he was a good deal older; his frame had filled out and settled; and in his - manner, too, some of the rough edges had been rubbed down—a fact she - whimsically regretted. She got up now and pushed the big chair up beside - the fire and sat across from him. For a time they said nothing—he - sitting on a stool at one side of the hearth, she in the chair at the - other; he applying the bellows in a moody, desultory way, she leaning back - watching first him and then the leaping flames. Finally he said, letting - the bellows swing between his knees, still keeping his eyes on the fire: - </p> - <p> - “Margaret!” - </p> - <p> - She started a little and a quick, almost shy glance shot from her eyes; - but he seemed wholly unconscious that he had never directly called her by - that name before. He swung the bellows slowly to and fro like a pendulum. - </p> - <p> - “What made you think I wouldn't be interested?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—I don't know that I meant exactly that———” - </p> - <p> - He went on, still without looking up: “Was it anything in what I wrote - before?” - </p> - <p> - Yes, there had been some writing before—when he was first at - Wauchung, and she, eager for her little protégé in the city, had kept him - informed of George's progress and had relied on his counsel. And now, as - he brought that correspondence up in his mind, and remembered how it had - bothered him, how he had avoided every personal reference and had made it - easy always for her to stop when she chose, and how she finally had - stopped—when he had these facts before him, he was thankful that the - fire could partly explain his colour. - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid I wasn't a very satisfactory correspondent,” he added, “but - those weren't very satisfactory days. I was sailing pretty close then—I - had some college expenses to pay back, and I was learning the business, - and altogether I didn't see much fun in living. If you have thought of me - since as the same sort of fellow I was then, I don't blame you for not - wanting to write.” - </p> - <p> - He looked up at her for a reply; but she only smiled a little and slowly - shook her head. - </p> - <p> - And so they talked on, these two, for a long time; they drifted on into a - dreamy, personal mood—into a land where only common interests could - get a footing, where there was no clock—nothing but the red flames, - and the dim rows of books, and the hushed house, and themselves. They - forgot to-night those three years of divergence—forgot that there - was one set of facts centring about the Michigan lumberman and another - about Margaret. To Halloran all of life had slipped away except that - dreamy figure in the Morris chair, with the late red glow of the fire on - her face and on her hair. Her eyes were half closed, and she turned them - toward him now and then without moving her head. A smile hovered on her - face—now on her lips, if he spoke to her—at other times - flitting about her eyes. Her hands lay motionless on the arms of 'the - chair. To both of them it was a rich glad time, so glad that it could best - be explained by silence, tempered only at intervals by low voices; so rich - that it poured its warmth into their very souls and quieted them, and gave - them to know that such high moments are rare, that they must be conserved - and guarded, must be lived through reverently. - </p> - <p> - He looked at her shyly at first, with stolen glances, until in some silent - way she gave him her permission; and then he looked long, not from his - eyes alone, but from the new self within him which had risen almost to - equality with that other self of hers. He knew this now—knew it to - be gloriously true; and he felt a defiance of all life, of all the - pressing facts and things that had crowded into his existence, a defiance, - a consciousness of self that thrilled him with its reality. For the first - time in his life he knew that those solid things were not real. And his - soul was awed and humbled. - </p> - <p> - And she looked at him—shyly always, yet conscious of what she was - too honest to deny. And the occasional pressure of her sensitive mouth, - the twitch of her eyelid as the light wavered over it, were not needed to - show him that she, too, was wholly given up to the reality—that her - life was gathered up to-night, with his, into one full hour of happiness. - </p> - <p> - Into this Arden came the distant whistle of a locomotive. Her eyes sought - his, and at the expression they found there she shook her head. - </p> - <p> - “That is going the other way,” she said softly. - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry”—he looked at his watch—“I have just time for the - last train.” - </p> - <p> - He rose and stood a moment looking at the fire. Then he came over and - leaned on the back of the chair and reached down and raised her hand in - his. She almost shivered at his touch, but he held it firmly; and after a - moment, in which the blood seemed to leave her face, her fingers closed on - his and clasped them tightly. - </p> - <p> - And then he forgot all about the last train. He knew that the impulse that - he had feared so long had at last mastered him, and he was wildly, - exultantly glad. He slipped down on the broad arm of the chair and held - her hand on his knee, and looked down at her hair; whilst she, still with - that occasional compression of the lips, gazed into the fire. For her, - too, everything had slipped into oblivion—everything but the red, - red glow of the dying fire and the clasp of his hand in hers and the touch - of his other hand on her hair. There was nothing else in the world for her - to-night; and her happiness was so poignant that she felt herself swept - blindly along with him, past all the obstacles of convention, of small - misunderstandings, of outside interests, on up to heights that had never - before during her quiet lifetime even entered her imagination. At moments - her fingers would tighten on his and strange, happy tears would fill her - eyes, to be kept back only by an effort. Once she could not keep them - back; and he looked down and saw them on her cheek, and she did not care. - Tears were trivial, now that her soul was laid bare to him. - </p> - <p> - At another time she spoke so softly that he could not hear, and he bent - down his head. - </p> - <p> - “You are not going to try to get back to the city?” she repeated, in a - voice from which all strength, all the body had gone. - </p> - <p> - “No—I'm going down to the hotel.” - </p> - <p> - Her clasp tightened again by way of reply. - </p> - <p> - And so the wild, sweet message came to this man and this young woman. It - told them how deeply those earlier years of friendship had entered their - natures; it let them know how much stronger it was than will or habit—how - it had chained their two lives so firmly together that only a few moments - had been needed to-night to show it plainly to them both. A look of the - eye, a tone in the voice, and it was done. From that moment their lives - had changed; and where-ever the new current might lead them, whatever - might be waiting in the dim, luminous years beyond, the new fact must - control their thoughts. The old days were gone; the new had begun. - </p> - <p> - Was it strange that he should think of this, that the meaning of it all - should flash through his mind; whilst she, with her sensitive nature - wholly bound up in this moment, should be thinking of nothing, should be - conscious of nothing, save that he was here? Was this strange? Her eyes - were still fixed on the embers; she seemed unable to raise them to his. In - all her life she had never before given up. Her impulses had never before - swept her reason from its seat and held her, trembling and amazed, in - their grip. It was new and wonderful to her. - </p> - <p> - “Margaret,” he said, in the low voice that expressed the most, “dare I - look at my watch?” She smiled and tightly held his hand. - </p> - <p> - “No?” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head. - </p> - <p> - He caught up a lock of her hair and held it against the light. It - glistened like fine-spun gold. He leaned down and pressed it to his lips; - and again he felt that tightening of her fingers, that slight shiver - passing through her. He bent forward and saw that the tears had escaped - again. “Margaret,” he whispered, “look up.” - </p> - <p> - Her eyes lifted a little, then dropped. He waited and then whispered - again, “Look up, dear.” Slowly she raised them until they met his fairly, - and their two souls were gazing straight, each to each. Her fingers - tightened and tightened; she was trembling. And at last he caught her - wildly with both his arms and drew her against him and kissed her - forehead, her eyes, her mouth. And her tears fell without restraint. - </p> - <p> - “Dear girl,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, “Dear girl, you - love me—I know you love me. I have waited—it is a long while - that I have waited—but all the waiting is over now. Tell me that it - is all over—that we are going to begin our lives—our life—new - again. Tell me that we are going to be happy.” - </p> - <p> - There was a moment during which she struggled to free herself. “Don't, oh, - don't!” she cried brokenly. “Please stop, John!” And he, hurt and - wondering, released her, and stood up, watching her stupidly as she fell - back in the chair and covered her eyes. - </p> - <p> - Poor Halloran! He had been supposing that he understood her—that he - really could see a little way into that complex nature. And the discovery - that he was still far on the outside of her personality brought a cruel - shock. He could not know that while his thoughts had rambled ahead, - constructing their life, hers had been absorbed in the happiness of that - one golden hour. He could not understand how his words, and the - realization of what this evening meant to them both, had burst upon her - with a force that frightened her. He could not be expected to know what a - struggle had come with this first open thought of giving herself up to a - man—what questions it raised, what problems of wholly reconstructing - a life; how the great question loomed before her in dimensions that seemed - almost tragic. He could not understand this; and so, when he finally - spoke, it was with a touch of quiet dignity: - </p> - <p> - “Margaret,” he said, “I have asked you to be my wife.” There was a more - and more appealing quality in his voice as he went on. “I have asked you - to be my wife. Can't you give me your answer?” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head without uncovering her eyes. - </p> - <p> - “Shall I come for it to-morrow, then, Margaret? I think I have told you - everything. You know that I love you. I can't live without you—I - dread even to think of waiting. It means so much to me, Margaret, so very - much, that I don't know——” - </p> - <p> - He paused, for his voice was beginning to shake a little. Still she was - silent. - </p> - <p> - “Have you”—it was getting difficult to speak—“have you nothing - to tell me?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, John,” she managed to say, “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!” - </p> - <p> - “Is—is that all, Margaret?” - </p> - <p> - “You must not come to-morrow—I can't let you.” - </p> - <p> - “A week, then, Margaret?—a—a month?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know—you must not stay.” - </p> - <p> - He waited a little, then walked slowly to the hall. When he had his coat - nearly on she came to the doorway. He waited again, hat in hand. - </p> - <p> - “Good—good-night,” she said. - </p> - <p> - “Is that———” - </p> - <p> - She shook her head nervously, hurriedly, and he opened the door and went - out. - </p> - <p> - And when he had gone, when his last step had died away in the still air, - she sank down on the stairs and sobbed, trembling in the power of this - passion. What had she done! What had she done! Her thoughts ranged madly. - She thought of the three years of divergence; of his habits, of hers; of - all the things, great and trivial, that bore on the question; she tried to - remember what had happened this night, and could not. She only knew that - this strange power had mastered her; and she was afraid of it and of him. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER X—A Letter - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>r. Bigelow sat in - the chair: behind and around him were the speakers of the evening, grouped - with the Committee of the Society of the Preservation of the Home; before - him extended rows upon rows of citizens, all of them vigorously applauding - the last speaker, all of them, without regard to private cellars, bent - upon stamping out the saloon evil in their suburb. - </p> - <p> - An usher mounted the platform and laid a folded slip of paper on the - table. The Chairman unfolded it, read it with great composure, and - inclined his head to signify an affirmative reply. This was the note: - </p> - <p> - “Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “<i>Dear Sir:</i> May I see you for a few moments after the meeting, on - business of great importance. - </p> - <p> - “Appleton Le Duc.” - </p> - <p> - “Probably a reporter,” thought the Chairman. A draft of his opening speech - lay in his inside pocket, and if this man was attached to a reputable - paper he would be welcome to it. Mr. Bigelow made it an invariable rule to - be courteous to newspaper men. - </p> - <p> - At the close of the meeting, therefore, as he was donning his coat, the - usher touched him on the arm. - </p> - <p> - “This is the man who wished to see you, Mr. Bigelow.” - </p> - <p> - The Chairman turned and beheld a tall, thin individual, with a long face, - wearing somewhat conspicuous clothes. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do,” he said, in a genial tone, extending his hand. - </p> - <p> - The thin man took it and glanced sharply at Mr. Bigelow—a glance - full of curious interest. A change had been taking place in Apples since - we last saw him. Evidently the care of his wife and his wife's mother, and - the prospect of a visit from the stork at once reducing the family income - and materially increasing the outgo, had quieted the effervescence of his - youth and set him thinking. - </p> - <p> - “If you have no objection,” said Le Duc, “I will walk along with you.” - </p> - <p> - “None whatever,” replied Mr. Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - They walked together out of the building and followed that part of the - crowd which had turned westward. - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir,” observed, the Chairman, “what can I do for you?” - </p> - <p> - Le Due answered in a low, even voice—a voice which, if it showed - embarrassment and effort, showed also determination. - </p> - <p> - “You were formerly married, I believe, to a woman who is now known as Mrs. - Craig.” - </p> - <p> - Dwelling, as it had been, on the plaudits, the hearty enthusiasms of the - evening, on the written speech reposing in an inside pocket, Mr. Bigelow's - mind came to earth with a shock. He stopped abruptly, threw a quick look - at the thin man, and then, recalling that the sidewalk was still covered - with people, he moved on. - </p> - <p> - “Have you come here to discuss my private affairs?” he said brusquely. - </p> - <p> - “In a sense, yes. The matter has been put into my hands, and I thought the - most satisfactory thing would be to come out here and talk to you. Of - course, if you'd rather I'd see somebody else, it makes no difference to - me.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow was silent for a moment. Le Due glanced sideways at him as - they passed under a corner light, and was glad to observe that he had - penetrated the man's armour. - </p> - <p> - “Are you a lawyer?” was the Chairman's abrupt question. - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “In what capacity have you come here?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, you see, Lizzie, Mrs. Craig's daughter, is my wife.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow's reply was a half-audible grunt. “Mrs. Craig, you understand, - is really suffering. She has no income and we have been keeping her with - us; but I am not in a position to do much for her—not as much as I - should like.” - </p> - <p> - “What do you want of me?” - </p> - <p> - “I believe—that you agreed to support her.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, how much do you want?” - </p> - <p> - “That isn't it, you see.” Somewhat eagerly this. “It wasn't only that you - agreed to support her, but the courts decided that you should. So it isn't - a question of what you might offer or me accept, but of how much is owing - on past years. I think I can understand it—I suppose a man gets - tired of paying out money he doesn't get any return for—and of - course it's been a good many years——” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind about that.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—you see—I've thought there was some misunderstanding - about the business. She says you told her to go to law if she wanted to, - but I thought she must have misunderstood you. Of course, she could, you - know, but her case is very good, I think. It would be expensive all - 'round; and it mightn't be pleasant.” - </p> - <p> - Very true, Apples. It might be decidedly unpleasant, now that a voluble - young man, with apparently no regard for the proprieties, has sprung up - from nowhere to push matters. - </p> - <p> - “Well, what <i>do</i> you want?” - </p> - <p> - “I've talked it all over with Mrs. Craig and she has told me just how - things stand. She has kept a pretty regular account of everything; and she - figures it out about like this. There were five years, nearly five, anyhow—we - don't want to quibble over that—when she was to all intents and - purposes paid up. Since then there haven't been any regular payments, - except about five hundred dollars that's been given her in small sums. It - was to be a thousand dollars a year, I believe. Five thousand five hundred - from seventeen thousand leaves eleven thousand five hundred still due her—call - it an even eleven thousand.” - </p> - <p> - “You say you are not a lawyer?” - </p> - <p> - “No, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “What is your business?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm—I'm an actor.” - </p> - <p> - “Where do you play?” - </p> - <p> - “On the North Side.” - </p> - <p> - “What can you earn?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, the three of us—we are the three Le Ducs, you know—my - wife and I, and Elmer, can get sixty a week for our turn.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean to say you have a son old enough to play with you?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, no—we only call him Elmer Le Duc. We haven't been married - so long as that. But——-” However, this was not business, and - he checked the confidence that was never far from the end of his tongue - nowadays. - </p> - <p> - “How long have you been on the stage?” - </p> - <p> - “Nearly three years.” - </p> - <p> - “What did you do before that?” - </p> - <p> - “I was at college.” - </p> - <p> - “What college?” - </p> - <p> - “Here, in Evanston.” - </p> - <p> - “So?” - </p> - <p> - They were now standing in front of the wide grounds of G. Hyde Bigelow. - Peeping out from its screen of trees, far back behind the spacious lawn, - could be seen the granite turrets of Mr. Bigelow's new house. The owner - turned toward them as he reflected. - </p> - <p> - “I will tell you what you do, Mr.—Mr. ————” - </p> - <p> - “Le Duc.” - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Le Duc. You come to my office to-morrow at eleven. I think that by - that time I will have a proposition that will interest you. Meantime, - suppose we let this matter stand just where it is now. Is that - satisfactory?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—certainly; perfectly so.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well, I shall look for you to-morrow at eleven. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Maybe I had better leave one of my cards with you, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow turned into the grounds and disappeared among the trees, and - Apples, bubbling with self-congratulations, hurried over to the trolley - line. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - Margaret was tired to-night. She was glad to be at home; and she threw - herself on the library couch to rest for an hour while she awaited the - final report of the day's labours. For George had been released from jail, - thanks to the benevolence of the judge—himself a suburbanite—and - to the clearness of the facts. It had called for very little effort on the - part of Mr. Babcock, who had taken the case on his own shoulders, to make - plain that George had been merely the cat's-paw of a gang of roughs. And - now Mrs. Bigelow had promised Mr. Babcock that she would take in the boy - and give him work about the house; so that apparently he was at last to - have a start. - </p> - <p> - At length Mr. Babcock himself came in. He was almost jaunty this evening; - and his voice was pitched higher than usual. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do, Miss Davies?” he exclaimed. “Here I am with my report.” - </p> - <p> - “You brought him out, did you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Mrs. Bigelow has him and promises to take the best of care of him. - He seems a likely boy—unfortunate he wasn't better brought up. But - of course he may take a brace—such things have happened.” - </p> - <p> - “You know I have faith in George,” said Margaret warmly. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know. I hope you're right. Maybe you are. He'll be kept busy for - awhile anyway, learning to groom the horses and milk the cows. That'll be - good for him. Queer case, isn't it. Quite like a story. It has interested - me immensely. Been a queer sort of day all around for me. If every day was - like it I'd never get any business done. Came right in a busy season, too. - Oh, I don't mean about the boy. That was because you were interested in - him. I'd do as much any time you asked it—do it gladly. But I ran - across Myers while I was over at the court building. He is going West, you - know, for his wife's health, and wants to sell his house. You know it, - don't you?—over on the Lake Front. He wants to sell bad and offers - the place for next to nothing, so I promised him I'd stroll down there - to-night and have a look at it. How would you like to go along? Your - taste's rather better than mine, I think.” - </p> - <p> - “Why—isn't it a little late?” He had never talked like this before; - she was puzzled. - </p> - <p> - “No—not so very—about nine. But I see you're tired, so don't - think of it. Tell you what I'll do—I'll get him to let me have the - plans, and we'll look them over together, and you tell me how they strike - you. If it is in as good shape as I think I believe I'll buy—that - is, if I can get a clear title.” - </p> - <p> - “It is very attractive along the shore.” - </p> - <p> - “That's the way it strikes me. And with good horses you'd hardly mind the - distance. He says his library is finished in rose tints and Flemish oak. - How does that sound?” - </p> - <p> - “Very pretty, I should think.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, doesn't it? So you really like the idea? I'm glad of that. You're - the one I care most about pleasing.” He rose and looked down at her. - “There's no use telling me you aren't tired: I can see it. You've worked - like a good one to-day, and I'm going to let you get a little rest.” She - rose. - </p> - <p> - “I'll bring up the plans sometime before Sunday, and we'll go over them - and see what we make of it. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled wearily and stood there until he had left the house; then she - went upstairs and into Mrs. Davies's room. - </p> - <p> - “Mother,” she said, with an odd little smile, “I want to go away.” - </p> - <p> - “Where, child?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know—-East, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Davies looked quietly up from her knitting. “'How long have you been - thinking of this?” she asked. - </p> - <p> - “Not very long—just to-day.” - </p> - <p> - They looked at each other for a moment in that same quiet way—Margaret - still smiling, but with a suspicious shine in her eyes. Then suddenly she - came over, slipped to the floor, and buried her face on her arms in her - mother's lap. - </p> - <p> - After a long silence Mrs. Davies asked: - </p> - <p> - “When would you like to go, dear?” There was no reply. “Very soon?” - Margaret raised her head a little way and was apparently about to speak, - then lowered it again. “Would you like to go this week?” Still there was - silence. But Mrs. Davies seemed to understand. “We might get away by - Thursday or Friday, dearie, if you can get ready. Can you?” - </p> - <p> - And Margaret murmured, without looking up: “Oh, yes, yes! I can be ready - to-morrow.” - </p> - <p> - As time went by the wisdom of Halloran's method of buying lumber became - apparent. If the orders had not gone in almost simultaneously to the - offices of the different companies the directors would probably have put - their heads together and declined meeting such an unusually heavy demand. - As it fell out, however, when the heads did finally go together, it was - discovered that the mischief had been done, that nearly six million feet - of lumber had been sold, in thirty or forty different lots, and for about - $50,000 less than it would have brought at the normal rates. The - possibility of speculators buying in the lumber had been discussed from - the first; but the directors had not dreamed that such a movement could be - actually completed before they could know it was going on. And then they - found that each of the twenty odd companies had been pledged to these - orders through its own authorized agents. Even now, after the door had - been closed on an empty stable, it was not plain what per cent, of the - sales had gone to speculators; for nearly every order had come from a - regular dealer in one of a score of different cities and towns. - </p> - <p> - Halloran soon found it difficult to buy, except in occasional small lots. - His instructions to his agents still held good, however; and he hoped to - increase his stock until he should have enough on hand to make good all - the losses resulting from the fight. That was his idea—to make - Bigelow pay the bills. Once this point was reached he would show his hand - by bringing all the lumber to Wauchung. - </p> - <p> - At this stage of the fight there was a pause. On one hand Halloran's - countermove was practically ended; on the other, the Bigelow forces - appeared as determined as ever to keep down prices and force Higginson out - of business. Rumours were floating now and then, to be sure, that there - was trouble in Kentucky Coal, but there was nothing at all definite. . - </p> - <p> - One morning in the office—a nearly idle morning, as came about - frequently now—Crosman remarked casually over his paper: - </p> - <p> - “There's a big fight on in corn on the Board of Trade.” - </p> - <p> - “Something new, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. It seems the secret has just leaked out. A man named Le Duc———” - </p> - <p> - “Le Duc!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—Appleton Le Duc—sounds like a Frenchman, doesn't it?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran left his chair and came over to Cros-man's side. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me,” he said. “May I see it?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly; take it, if you like. I'm through with it. It's a queer - story.” He went on talking while Halloran was reading. “It seems he's a - new man at the business, but they're calling him the new Com King already. - They say he shows a regular genius for it. It looks as if he was going to - corner the market. The paper says he used to be an actor.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran laid down the paper and perched himself on the corner of - Crosman's flat-top desk. - </p> - <p> - “That's queer business,” he observed. “The last time I heard of Apples he - was playing at a third-class variety house.” - </p> - <p> - “Friend of yours?” - </p> - <p> - “I knew him in college. If the paper weren't so sure about it, I'd say it - was a mistake. He never did it himself—he hasn't any money, to begin - with. Somebody's using him for a cat's-paw, plain enough; but I'd like to - know how the Moses he ever got hold of a snap like that?” Halloran shook - his head over it. “Do you ever read Mark Twain?” - </p> - <p> - “I have—some.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you remember the story of the bad little boy that got rich and went to - Congress, and died universally respected?” - </p> - <p> - “Never read that.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, it makes me think of Apples. The two poorest skates we had in - college are turning out about the same way. The other fellow was a lazy - beggar from down in Indiana. Came up to college to play baseball, but he - didn't have grit enough to make the team. He never got anywhere in his - work—spent three years in his fourth year Academy, I believe, before - he gave it up. And no one ever knew how he lived. But one of the directors - of a big steel company used to live out there, and this fellow scraped up - money enough to buy a dress suit and join the local club, and took to - playing billiards and drinking with the director's son, and finally got - invited around to meet the family. Now he's the assistant secretary of the - steel company, and has announced his engagement to the director's - daughter. Enough to make you wonder a little sometimes, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - The office door opened, just then, so abruptly that they both started. - Looking up, they saw Captain Craig standing in the doorway, hatless, - holding an open letter in his hand. He looked straight at Halloran as if - he saw nothing else in the office. - </p> - <p> - “I want to see you,” he said. - </p> - <p> - At the odd sound of his voice, Crosman got up without a word and brushed - by him into the outer office, gently pushing the door to behind him. - </p> - <p> - “Sit down, Captain,” said Halloran. - </p> - <p> - The Captain took the chair by the desk. - </p> - <p> - “I went up to the house to see the Old Gentleman, but they wouldn't let me - in.” - </p> - <p> - “No; he is not allowed to see anybody. Will I do?” - </p> - <p> - Craig seemed not to hear the reply. “I got a letter just now—and I - wondered if I couldn't get away for a little while—I guess I won't - be needed on the steamer?” - </p> - <p> - “Certainly not.” - </p> - <p> - “I got a letter this morning—I didn't know as I read it straight—I - haven't got my glasses with me——-” It seemed difficult for him - to speak naturally, and he paused, staring at a glass paper-weight on the - desk. His seamed, harsh old face was working. “My God! Mr. Halloran,” he - broke out, “I don't hardly dare believe it! Here, read it.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran took the letter and read what follows: - </p> - <p> - “<i>Father</i>: I have waited a long, long time, and now I'm tired and I - want to come home. You were right always—it was all a mistake. Now - when I look back there are some parts of it that are like dreams to me. Do - you think you could forgive me? Do you think you could let me come back - and take care of your house for you? - </p> - <p> - “I was all wrong, but I am older now—I have a girl of my own who has - grown up and married—and I think I could understand better. I can - imagine better, too, how you have suffered—how I have made you - suffer—and now that there are times when my life seems clouded and - unreal—some days and weeks even, when I look back I can hardly - remember what I have said or done, or how I have lived—when I think - of this, and think how my life seems to be slipping away from me, a little - at a time, I feel that I just must come back to you. Of course, nothing - can be undone, nothing can be lived over. I know that bitterly now—I - feel it all the time, and especially at night when I lie awake and all - these years come whirling up in my mind and confuse me and discourage me. - But I have tried not to grow bitter. I have been hungry a good many times, - and cold, and haven't had much to wear, but I have tried always to - remember that the only way out is just the patient, honest way. - </p> - <p> - “There may not be many years left to us, but wouldn't it be better to try - to make them happy years? You see I'm writing as if I felt you had already - forgiven me—I can't help it. - </p> - <p> - “Elizabeth is married, as I told you, and hasn't room for me any more. - But, George is not a bad boy—you will like George, father, I know. - And perhaps he will grow up into something better than I and make you feel - yet that it was worth while. - </p> - <p> - “It is nineteen years to-day since you brought me down here on the old <i>Number - One</i>—do you remember? I have never forgotten how you looked when - you stood on the bridge and waved good-by. Well, my married life was not - what I thought it would be, but somehow now, while I am writing this, it - seems almost as if I could cut this long part of my life right out, and - take up the first part again where I left it off that day. You will find - me changed—I am getting to be quite an old woman—if all goes - well, I may be a grandmother before the year is gone. Think of that! - </p> - <p> - “Oh, father, I don't know what I am thinking of to be writing like this, - when I ought to be down on my knees to you. But I can't help it. Can you - forgive me, and let me begin again? - </p> - <p> - “Jennie Craig.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran gazed at the letter until the silence grew oppressive and then he - looked out the window. Craig was still staring at the paperweight; and - when he finally spoke it was without shifting his eyes. - </p> - <p> - “She was only eighteen when she went down to Chicago to work for Bigelow. - She didn't know any better—G. Hyde Bigelow wasn't above marrying his - clerk in those days. And then she found him out and got a divorce; and - I've never heard since, until to-day. I guess—I guess there's a - little pride in our family—she's never written—and I haven't. - But, oh, God! Mr. Halloran———” - </p> - <p> - Halloran turned at the exclamation, and then, with such a sense of - helplessness as he had never before known, he lowered his eyes. For the - Captain was crying. - </p> - <p> - “I'm going right down there,” the broken voice went on. “Have you a - time-table here?” Halloran fumbled in his drawer, found the time-table, - looked over the train schedule, marked the right column with his pencil - and laid it before the Captain. - </p> - <p> - “When is that? Ten-thirty?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; ten-thirty.” - </p> - <p> - “That's in about an hour. Well, then, I suppose——-” He made as - if to rise, but settled back again. Finally Halloran spoke. - </p> - <p> - “I think I know your daughter, Captain.” - </p> - <p> - “You know her?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I saw her several times a few years ago. I can tell you a good deal - about George, too.” - </p> - <p> - “She's a good girl. We used to think she took after me a little. I think - maybe—I think I'll bring her right back with me to-night or - tomorrow; and then you can come around and see us.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. What would you say if I were to go down with you, Captain. Perhaps I - could help you find her and George.” He hesitated a moment. “We'll bring - the boy back, too. I guess we can manage to keep him busy around the - office until the mills start up again.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you know how old he is?” - </p> - <p> - “George must be about sixteen, I should say.” - </p> - <p> - “And the girl is married—she must be older—I guess I'm a - little bewildered.” He got up now and stood silent by the desk. - </p> - <p> - “I'll be ready for you in half an hour, Captain.” There seemed to be - nothing more to say; and after another silence Craig went out. But later, - during the hours on the train, Halloran had to tell over and over what he - knew about George and Lizzie, their mother, and Le Duc. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XI—High Life at the Le Ducs - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hen at last they - were on the cable-car, north bound, Craig broke the silence that had held - through the latter half of the journey. - </p> - <p> - “Do you suppose we could get them all together to-night—the boy, and - the girl and her husband? We could have a supper somewhere.” - </p> - <p> - “I think so. It will be a little late before I can get George back from - Evanston—half-past eight or nine o'clock, probably.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain winced at the words. He knew now that George was a charity boy - in the home of his own father. - </p> - <p> - “If you would like to set it for half-past eight, I will see Le Duc and - then go out for George.” The Captain, whose head was in no condition for - planning even so much as a supper, accepted this arrangement without a - word. They were silent again until they left the car. - </p> - <p> - “I wonder if she'll know me,” Craig mused, as they walked along, “I ain't - the same as I was then—it's a long time, Mr. Halloran, a long time. - She was a pretty girl—always had a laugh for one—I've often - thought of her energy and nerve. She had a way of going at things, I tell - you. When she got a notion she ought to earn her own living there couldn't - anything stop her. Are we getting near it?” - </p> - <p> - “Just a little way now.” - </p> - <p> - “That's good. It's queer how long a day can be—and after most twenty - years, too.” - </p> - <p> - At the door Halloran paused. It was in a mean street, meaner even than the - old quarters near Hoffman's saloon, and the stairs leading up to the - living-rooms above were crowded in between a cheap restaurant and a much - less respectable saloon than Hoffman's. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Captain, I'll leave you here.” - </p> - <p> - “Why—aren't you coming in?” - </p> - <p> - “No; I haven't any too much time. I know Le Duc's address—I read it - in the paper this morning. We will meet here at half-past eight.” Craig - was about to protest, but Halloran hurried off; and the Captain started - alone up the stairway. - </p> - <p> - The Le Ducs were living at an apartment hotel not far from the Lake Shore - Drive. From the appearance of the building and the neighbourhood Halloran - inferred that the corn market was proving a profitable field for Apples. - He inquired for him and was taken up in the elevator and shown into a neat - little parlour on an upper floor, commanding a view of the lake. Being - received by a maid in a cap and apron, he repeated his inquiry, only to - learn that Mr. Le Duc was not at home—had not yet returned from his - office. Could he see Mrs. Le Duc? The maid hesitated. But as time was - pressing, he persisted. Would she please tell her mistress that Mr. - Halloran had come with an important message from Mrs. Le Duc's mother and - grandfather. The maid turned away and had nearly crossed the room when she - was intercepted by a loud whisper from behind the double doors of the next - room: - </p> - <p> - “Ask him to wait.” - </p> - <p> - So Halloran sat down and looked at the photographs of actors and actresses - that crowded the walls—prominent among which were large prints of - Appleton Le Duc and Elizabeth Le Duc and Elmer Le Duc—until Apples - himself, wearing a prosperous air, better dressed, but still dapper, still - with a flash somewhere in his get-up, opened the door, and Halloran rose - to meet him. - </p> - <p> - “How—how are you? Oh, this must be Halloran. I knew you at college. - How are you? What can I do for you? Sit down, Halloran. Excuse me a minute - while I take off my coat.” - </p> - <p> - Apples disappeared into the next room, and as the door closed behind him - there was an audible smack, followed by whispering. He shortly returned - with a puzzled expression. - </p> - <p> - “Excuse me for keeping you waiting, Halloran. There are so many claims on - me these days that I can't get away from my office as early as I'd like. - Now tell me what I can do for you?” - </p> - <p> - “It is a long story, Apples”—the Corn King seemed to dislike the - word—“but you'll hear it all soon enough. What it amounts to is, - that Mrs. Craig's father, who is a steamer captain, is working for the - same company that employs me, and——-” - </p> - <p> - “So you're a sailor now, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Not exactly that.” - </p> - <p> - “Let me see, you went in for that sort of thing a good deal in the old - days, didn't you? Weren't you on the Life-Saving Crew at college?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I was. Captain Craig has come down here to take Mrs. Craig back home - with him.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you don't say so!” - </p> - <p> - “And he would like you and Mrs. Le Duc to meet him and Mrs. Craig at her - rooms to-night and take supper with them—at half-past eight. I'm - going out now for George.” He rose to go. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll tell you, Halloran”—Apples had risen, too, and was - speaking in a low, confidential voice—“between ourselves, my wife - isn't going out much now, and I'm afraid we can't do it. We'd like to very - much, you know.” - </p> - <p> - Again came the whisper from behind the door. “Appleton!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, dearie. Excuse me a second, Halloran.” He slipped out again and - there was more whispering. When he returned it was to say: “My wife would - be very glad to have you all come here instead. We will have the supper up - here in our apartment. Tell them we'll be very glad to see them—and - you, too.” - </p> - <p> - “Thank you. I'll tell them.” - </p> - <p> - Apples showed him out, and as he left the building and headed for the - State Street trolley he found himself thinking much of Apples and his rise - in life. - </p> - <p> - When he was on the Evanston train, however, he had something else to think - about. In order to get George he must go either to the Bigelows' home or - to Margaret's. Not one of the letters he had written since that evening - had been answered. Besides, he was not in the right frame of mind to see - her—or he thought he was not, which amounted to the same thing. All - day he had been deep in the trouble of the Craig family, and in his talk - about coming out after George he had not taken time to think just how he - was to manage it. But he was realizing it now as he left the train and - started up toward the Ridge; and as this is to be an honest history, the - facts of what followed must be told. - </p> - <p> - Half-way up from the station, while he was walking briskly along, boasting - inwardly that he was calm and ready to see Margaret, his legs, without - warning him, turned him off on a side street. When he had rounded the - block, and had convinced himself that now he was headed straight for the - Ridge, they deceived him again. This was humiliating, and, more, was not - the way to march to victory. Twice he walked around the square, but the - third time, by a strong effort, he succeeded in passing the fatal corner. - Soon he could see the house a little way ahead. It occurred to him that he - was rushing along at an absurd speed, and he walked more slowly. A moment - more and he was in front of the house, was turning in up the walk—but, - no, he was mistaken; for the legs, suddenly out of all control, carried - him by and nearly a block farther up the street before he could check them - and get them headed straight. He found he could manage them better by - stepping once on each square of the cement walk, squarely in the middle - each time; and he could keep this up by giving all his mind to it. This - made it necessary to take rather long steps, but the twilight was - deepening, and, besides, there were few other pedestrians on the street. - Again he drew near. He looked up at the windows—they were dark, - excepting a light in the rear and one upstairs. Something forbidding about - the square old house, with its rows of unlighted windows, chilled his - heart, struck deep into the energy that had carried him thus far, and he - faltered. But this would not do. He forced his eyes down to the sidewalk - and resolutely put his right foot on the next square of cement—then - his left on the second square—and on, step by step, up the front - walk. He mounted the steps and crossed the wide veranda to the door—then - hurriedly pushed the bell. - </p> - <p> - There was a long wait. After a time he heard doors opening and closing - within, and the sound of a person moving; finally there were footsteps in - the hall and the door was opened. - </p> - <p> - “Is—is Miss Davies here?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—no. Miss Davies and her mother have gone East.” - </p> - <p> - “Gone East!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; they are in the mountains—in Woodland Valley.” - </p> - <p> - “Woodland Valley!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I couldn't tell you when they'll be back. They didn't know - themselves when they left.” - </p> - <p> - A moment more and the door had closed and Halloran was down on the - sidewalk. He turned aimlessly up the street. Gone East!—and no word - for him! Perhaps his letters had not even reached her. Why had he not come - straight back to Evanston that same week and claimed his answer? What an - invertebrate creature he was, anyway! What a gloomy evening! How the - shadows of the maples and elms closed down on his thoughts! The arc lamps - at the corners, the long row of houses glowing with light, all smiled at - him and drove him deeper into the gloom. Gone East! - </p> - <p> - It occurred to him that he had come out for another purpose. There was - nothing for it now but to go to the Bigelows'; and with a glance at his - watch, he turned in that direction. - </p> - <p> - The family were at dinner, he was informed, but Mrs. Bigelow would see him - in a few moments. He was shown into a reception-room, where he could drop - into a chair in the bay window and look in between the portières down the - length of the living-room. The furniture was rich and heavy; the mantels - and tables and bookcases were laden with bric-à-brac; the walls were - covered with paintings and engravings, some of them fairly good, all of - them very costly. From the dining-room came the jingle of knives and forks - and the laughter of children, and now and then the heavy voice of Mr. - Bigelow dominating. Then he heard the rustle of skirts and in came Mrs. - Bigelow. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do, John? It is a long time since we have seen you. You must - have gone away from Evanston when you left college. - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I'm not living here.” - </p> - <p> - “Where are you now, John?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm up in Michigan.” - </p> - <p> - “You have a position there?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I have heard Mr. Bigelow say that there are really about as good - openings in the country as in the city. It is so overcrowded in Chicago. - Are you getting on well?” - </p> - <p> - “I—I guess so—as well as I could expect.” - </p> - <p> - “I am very glad to hear that—and Mr. Bigelow will be, too. He really - took quite an interest in you, John. He is always glad to know that the - young men he has been interested in are getting on.” - </p> - <p> - “I have come down to Chicago to-day, Mrs. Bigelow, to look for a boy; and - I have heard he is here. His name is George—George Bigelow.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, yes; George. It is odd that he should have our name. He is a - Settlement boy—Mr. Babcock rescued him from I don't know what - distress. I wondered if there were any distant branch of the family that - could have dropped in the world, but Mr. Bigelow says there is no - connection whatever. It is a very common name in Chicago, he says. It - seems that the boy's family is worthless, and he himself has already been - in jail. But he seems to feel some remorse, and I am not letting it make - any difference here.” - </p> - <p> - “Captain Craig, his grandfather, heard to-day from George's mother, after - a long separation. We happen to be employed by the same company and I have - come down with him to find his family. He wants to take them all back with - him.” - </p> - <p> - “To take him back? Why, he has been here only a little while. Did you mean - to take him yourself?” - </p> - <p> - “Captain Craig plans to give them all a supper this evening, and I - promised him I would be on hand with George.” - </p> - <p> - “Very well; I will send for him.” - </p> - <p> - She stepped to the hall and rang a bell. While she was speaking to the - maid Mr. Bigelow came into the hall, with a little girl hanging to each - arm. He paused in the doorway of the reception-room and nodded to - Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do,” he said. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do, sir.” - </p> - <p> - “This is John Halloran, dear,” said his wife, turning. “He has come to - take George away. George's grandfather, he tells me, is really quite - respectable.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Bigelow had shaken off the children and was getting into his overcoat. - </p> - <p> - “It is just as well,” he replied, without looking around. “We really have - no work for him here.” At this moment the subject of the talk himself - appeared, advancing bashfully, overcome by the splendour about him, and - not yet knowing why he had been summoned. He looked at Halloran for a - moment before he recognized him. - </p> - <p> - “How are you, George,” said Halloran, advancing and holding out his hand. - “Do you remember me?” - </p> - <p> - George blushed, grinned and took his hand; and as he did so, Mr. Bigelow, - with his coat buttoned and one glove on, turned around. He looked at - George—a tall, awkward, ill-dressed boy of sixteen—with a - curious, gruff expression, then his eyes shot one quick, inquiring look at - Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “You'll excuse me,” he said, recovering. And without speaking further he - went out and shut the door hard behind him. - </p> - <p> - “Come, George,” said Halloran; “I'm going to take you to a new home. Have - you any truck to carry?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing much.” - </p> - <p> - “Get your coat, then, and come along.” - </p> - <p> - “When they had reached the tenement and were nearly at the top of the - stairway Halloran pushed George ahead. - </p> - <p> - “Go in there, George. You'll find them together.”. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I hear 'em talking. But ain't you coming?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not yet. Go ahead.” - </p> - <p> - George opened the door and Halloran went back a little way down the stairs - and sat down. It was dark and dirty. On all sides, above and below, were - noises—babies squalling, men and women quarreling—but he heard - little; his thoughts were speeding of! to the eastern mountains. There was - a young woman in those mountains—where the leaves were beginning to - turn, perhaps, as here in the West—only a thousand miles away. What - had he been waiting for? Was it for her to write? How had he supposed her - answer was to come? What stood in the way—circumstances? Some other - one? Or was it that the only obstacle was a certain person sitting, at - this moment, on a dark stairway in a tenement? More likely the latter—but - how was he to discover it so close home? It was rather more fun to be - miserable. Family reunion on one side of his thoughts, all hopes a - thousand miles removed on the other side—on the whole, he preferred - dark stairways. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Halloran, are you there? It's so dark I can't see.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; coming right up.” - </p> - <p> - “I was afraid you'd get away from us.” - </p> - <p> - “No, but I must be off now.” They were entering the room. “Le Duc wants - you all over there to supper.” - </p> - <p> - “Over there?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “You mustn't go now, Mr. Halloran. He asked you, too, didn't he? Of course - he did.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, I'd like to, but—— - </p> - <p> - “Now, see here, after the turn things have taken we couldn't have the - supper without you. That's a part of it, you see—it's the way I - planned it. You've got to come.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, if you feel that way———” - </p> - <p> - “We do, and that's all there is about it. I guess we'd better be starting - over, hadn't we? It's most half-past now. Where's your jacket, Jennie?” - Mrs. Craig had no jacket, it appeared; but the Captain helped her on with - her shawl. “Got your hat, George? Better let me have your arm, Jennie, - going down the stairs. It's pretty dark.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I know these stairs, father.” - </p> - <p> - “That's so; I suppose you do. All ready, Mr. Halloran?” - </p> - <p> - “All ready, Captain. I'll put out the light. Go ahead.” - </p> - <p> - They went down the stairs two and two, Mrs. Craig and the Captain, - Halloran and George, and walked toward the lake, through the vicious quiet - of the side streets, through the merriment of North Clark Street, through - the sober, comfortable region of stone houses and big churches—on to - the imposing private hotel where dwelt the Le Ducs. - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid, father,” whispered Mrs. Craig, “that I'm not exactly dressed - for this.” - </p> - <p> - “Nonsense! My daughter needn't be ashamed to go anywhere. I wouldn't give - <i>that</i> for a girl that wouldn't be glad to see her own mother, no - matter if she came in a sunbonnet. There's nothing the matter with this - shawl, I guess.” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no; but it's old. And they're not wearing shawls now.” - </p> - <p> - “What do we care about that?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't care if you don't.” And so determined was she not to care that - she managed to force a little smile as her feet sank into the carpet and - the door-boy stood aside to let her pass. - </p> - <p> - Le Duc himself opened the door and greeted the group in the hall with a - “How are you? Come in!” - </p> - <p> - They filed into the room, where a table was spread for them, and stood - about awkwardly. Mrs. Craig busied herself with her bonnet and shawl, - George stood on one leg and then on the other, and looked at the carpet; - and Halloran slipped into the background. But the Captain broke the - silence by advancing toward Le Duc. - </p> - <p> - “This must be Appleton, I take it. I'm glad to see you, young man—glad - to welcome you into my family.” - </p> - <p> - Apples took the outstretched hand and murmured something. - </p> - <p> - “And where's Lizzie? I've got to see her before you can make me believe - I've got a granddaughter old enough to be married. You'd never think it to - look at Jennie, there, would you? Isn't she coming?” - </p> - <p> - “Here I am,” said the young woman herself, appearing in the doorway. - </p> - <p> - The Captain looked at her while the others stood silent; finally he walked - around the table to meet her. - </p> - <p> - “I—I can't believe it. I'm just going to kiss you, my dear. I guess - your husband won't object if you kiss your own grandfather, will he?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no; certainly not,” said Le Duc. - </p> - <p> - “Well, well, so here we really are—all of us! Now we must have a - good time of it. Where are we to sit, granddaughter? Don't forget to put - me next to yourself. This almost makes me feel as if I was back in the old - house.” - </p> - <p> - They took their places, and two waiters from the hotel restaurant appeared - to serve them. And then Le Duc, with some sense of his responsibility as - host, endeavoured to set the talk going, but without marked success. For - both Mrs. Craig and her daughter felt awkward, and the Captain could not - entirely master the oppressiveness of the surroundings and of the waiters - in their dress suits. Halloran made one effort to enliven matters. - </p> - <p> - “Captain, Apples”—Le Duc's nose went up a little at the word—“Apples - was on the beach the night you came ashore in the surf-boat.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't say so? Strange, isn't it, the way things come around, and the - people you've met once are sure to turn up again? If I don't remember you, - Appleton, it's because I wasn't feeling in shape to see anything that - night but what was left of the old steamer. An ugly time that was. There - was an hour or so before you lighted up your fire when I wouldn't have - given half a dollar for our chances. The steamer was breaking up fast.” - </p> - <p> - “Let me see,” said Apples, “that must have been in my college days. Do you - remember just when it was, Halloran?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm not likely to forget it.” - </p> - <p> - “It was up the shore toward Glencoe, wasn't it? I remember one wreck up - that way—you crew fellows had quite a time of it, didn't you?” - </p> - <p> - After this feeble light on the conversation, darkness fell again; and the - little family ate almost in silence, until the waiters brought in a - platter of ducks and set them before Le Duc. The host looked suspiciously - on them, then glanced at Lizzie. Finally, while his fingers toyed - nervously with the carving knife and fork, his eyes sought the waiters; - but one had left the room and the other was busy with the vegetables. - Evidently he was expected to begin carving—the table waited, - silently and expectantly—so he planted the fork in the right wing of - the first duck and began. It did not go well. A brown fringe of gravy - decorated the table-cloth around the platter, and little specks flew out - occasionally toward the guests. Lizzie turned to Halloran and asked if he - was living in the city now; and he replied that he was not. The brown - fringe was widening; and George was watching the performance with - increasing interest. Lizzie persisted: “Are you going to be here long, - this visit?” No, he was going back to-morrow. The diversion failed here, - and they waited in silence. Apples was breathing hard. At length, a quick, - unskilful movement caused something to slip, and the end duck hopped - neatly out on the table-cloth and settled down in a pool of gravy. Apples - leaned back in his chair and looked at Lizzie. - </p> - <p> - “My dear”—he began. But the waiter was at his elbow, saying, - </p> - <p> - “Shall I serve it, sir?” - </p> - <p> - At this point the Captain rose, napkin in hand. - </p> - <p> - “I'll tell you what, Appleton,”, he said, “you just change places with me. - If there's one thing I know, it's ducks.” - </p> - <p> - After this, in spite of the gloom that settled on the host, the evening - went better. And when the party broke up, at what the Captain called a - scandalous hour, and scattered to hotel and tenement, there was some - cordiality in the chorus of good-nights and good-byes. In the morning, by - an early train, the three members of the Craig family and Halloran - returned to Wauchung. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER XII—The Pine Comes In - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>hat settles it,” - exclaimed Halloran, tossing a letter on the desk. - </p> - <p> - Crosman looked up. - </p> - <p> - “We've placed our last order for lumber this season,” said Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “Have the Trust people waked up?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Our Oconomowoc man writes that they refuse to sell him another foot - unless they're assured that it won't come to us. They're pretty late about - it. We've got nearly all we want. Well, that ends it, anyhow. The next - thing is to get it all in. There's no use paying storage to all those - fellows now that we're found out. I wish you'd see about getting both - steamers off as soon as you can—send them to Chicago and Milwaukee, - where we have the biggest lots. We'll write for steamers and schooners for - the other towns.” - </p> - <p> - “Can we get it all in the yards? There's a lot here now.” - </p> - <p> - “Got to. It will crowd up close to the mills, but we can't help it.” - </p> - <p> - “That will raise the insurance premium—clear up to the mill rate. - </p> - <p> - “I know it.” - </p> - <p> - “Do you want me to go ahead with the insurance?” - </p> - <p> - “No; not yet. Speak to me again about it in a day or so. This lumber isn't - going to help us out very far if we let all our profits go out in storage - and commissions and carriage and insurance. I don't know but what we'll - have to carry it ourselves. It isn't just the weather I'd have picked out—but - this business isn't of our choosing, anyway. I'd like to find out how much - old G. Hyde knows about us. I don't believe he's got on the track of the - whole stock.” - </p> - <p> - And so the order went out to concentrate all the lumber at Wauchung; and - at the flying word, passing from house to house, that at last there was to - be work at the yards, Wauchung stirred and aroused. Again men came - flocking to the office, shouldering peavies and cant-hooks and clamouring - for employment. Sailors appeared to man the steamers and were set to - scrubbing and polishing. Coal-wagons rumbled through the yards to the - wharves, bringing food for the furnaces. Men went about grinning and - joking and slapping backs heartily, and swapping yams about the Old - Gentleman in his palmy days, ten and twenty years before. Robbie MacGregor - appeared, fatter than ever after his enforced idleness, growling at all - the known works of the Creator, and refusing to speak civilly to any one - until he had let himself into his greasy blue overalls and was free to - finger his levers, and dress down the oilers, and swear gloriously at the - new hands in the stoke-room. - </p> - <p> - “Good-afternoon, Mr. Halloran,” said Captain Craig, when he reached the - office. “When are we to start?” - </p> - <p> - “To-night, if you have your men. MacGregor's on hand now, getting up - steam.” - </p> - <p> - “Good for Robbie.” - </p> - <p> - “By the way, Captain, I'll try to have some work for George as soon as the - first lot of lumber gets in.” - </p> - <p> - “That's good. You'll find him ready for you. I'll be glad to get started - again myself—it's been a mean pull; and there just wasn't any - getting along with Robbie. I never saw him so down. Dry weather, isn't - it.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, better for you than for us. Are you going to let Bigelow steal your - men off you this trip?” - </p> - <p> - “I hardly think so.” - </p> - <p> - “You may have a chance yet—you're to go to Chicago.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain smiled dryly. He was in fine mettle now; his clear eyes and - sound colour belied his wrinkles and the white streaks in his hair. - </p> - <p> - “I wish he'd try it,” he replied. “We'll be glad to hear from him any - time.” - </p> - <p> - Late that afternoon the two steamers swung away from the wharves, one - after the other, steamed out through the channel, passed the life-saving - station and the lighthouse, and headed, the <i>Higginson Number 1</i>, - sou'west-by-south toward Chicago, the Number 2 sou'west toward Milwaukee, - to bring in the first loads of lumber. And a thrill went through the - yards, where there were a few men at work, and passed on to the long lines - of waiting labourers outside, as the shouts of the officers and the rumble - of the engines and the wash of the propellers sounded through the dry - autumn air. The mills were still silent the little world that depended - almost for its existence on the movements of that machinery was still - suffering from poverty and idleness, was still facing the possibility of a - winter without employment; but somehow the sight of the two steamers once - more plowing up the water of the harbour, of the blue smoke once more - spreading low over the sand-dunes and over the sparkling lake that - stretched beyond, spoke to them of new life at the Higginson yards. If the - steamers were started out after the long wait, why might not the mills be - soon humming and singing again, why might not the ax again flash and - strike in the forest, and the songs of the river gang again ring down the - long reaches of pine-edged water? The possibility was in the thoughts of - them all as their eyes followed the steamers far out into the lake, and - lingered on the fading smoke long after the boats themselves had dropped - over the southwestern horizon. It was something to be moving again; and - every one was a little more cheerful that evening for what they had seen - and felt. - </p> - <p> - Now that the steamers were on the way, Halloran found that he had a - problem on his hands. More than six million feet of lumber demands a large - area, and the question of getting it into the yards was a serious one. - </p> - <p> - The Higginson yards occupied a peninsula, formed on the inland side by the - Wauchung River, on the other side by the harbour. This harbour was in - reality a small lake, such as one will find duplicated every little way - for a hundred and fifty miles on the eastern coast of Lake Michigan. The - prevailing west winds have thrown up a line of high dunes along this - shore, forming a natural dam at the mouth of each of the many small - rivers. The Government had at Wauchung, as at many similar places, dredged - out a channel that enabled steamers to get in to the wharves and to turn - in the harbour. - </p> - <p> - The two mills were on the upper or river side of the peninsula, where they - could receive the logs that were floated down from the timberlands. - </p> - <p> - From the mills the cut timber was run out on elevated tramways and piled - along the wharves. Ordinarily there was a wide space between the mills and - the nearest pile of lumber. There was a provision, indeed, in the - insurance policies, that it could not be piled nearer than two hundred - feet without the payment of a higher premium; and if the piles should - extend within fifty feet of the mills the rate mounted to an almost - prohibitive point. - </p> - <p> - The yards were surrounded by water on three sides—on the fourth were - the cottages of the labourers and of the other poorer residents of the - town. Halloran had a choice, then, between piling the lumber close around - the mills (there being already a considerable quantity in the yards) and - either paying the higher rate of insurance or going without, or carting it - off and renting outside land for storage, thus adding a new item to his - expenses. Every spare moment between this day and the arrival of the first - steamer was spent in looking over the yards and planning the arrangement - so as to get the best advantage of the space. - </p> - <p> - It was on the second day after the departure of the steamers that Crosman - burst into the office and cried: - </p> - <p> - “She's coming in—the <i>Number Two!</i> I saw her funnels over the - sand-hills.” - </p> - <p> - His excitement was catching, and Halloran got up from his desk and looked - out the window. Sure enough, there was the smoke, far out along the - sky-line. A moment later, looking between the channel piers, he caught a - glimpse of the steamer heading in toward the lighthouse. - </p> - <p> - Watchful eyes had already seen her from the cottages near the beach; and - as man after man hurried over to the yards to get an early place in the - lines, the news spread through Wauchung. These men did not know what it - meant—Bigelow was a myth to them, known, if at all, merely as an - employer of labour twenty miles up the lake—but there was the - steamer, bringing in a cargo of lumber that must be discharged and piled, - and this meant work. Soon she was entering the channel; and they could see - her Captain standing on the wheel-house roof with a hand resting on the - bell-pull. And while Halloran went over to the wharf to direct the work, - Crosman was kept busy giving out time-checks and cant-hooks and sending - man after man across the yards. - </p> - <p> - Then she was in the harbour, was slipping up to the wharf; the engine-room - bell jingled, and the propeller churned the water; the lines were thrown - out and caught by eager hands, and the <i>Higginson No. 2</i> lay - motionless at the wharf, her deck piled high with yellow hemlock and pine. - The labourers swarmed over the rail and went at the work with the spirit - of men who know what hunger means. The donkey-engines at each end of the - deck rattled and clanked as the hoisting-spars were lowered over the - cargo. And not a man on the ground, from Halloran down, but felt the - impetus that the arrival of this first load of lumber had given to all - Wauchung. Some of the men showed it by laughing easily, others by swearing - easily, and now and then they would all break out into a song that would - almost have shocked Jimmie McGinnis himself if he had been there to hear - it—to the immortal air of - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - “My father and mother were Irish, - </p> - <p class="indent15"> - And I was Irish, too.” - </p> - <p> - <br /> - </p> - <p> - They did not know that this song had been shouted by valiant fighters and - workers in many tongues—sometimes to reputable words, oftener not—for - centuries, nor did they care. It would not have interested them to hear - that, thanks to its wonderful vitality, this same melody had served - generations of students as “We won't go home till morning”; had swung - thousands of wearied French soldiers along wild roads before Napoleon was - born as “<i>Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre</i>”; had perhaps led white-clad - swordsmen, with a lilt and rhythm that fairly lifted the feet, off to the - taking of Jerusalem nearly a thousand years ago. And now here it was - again, sung to disreputable words, but as truly as ever a shout of - good-will and dauntless effort. Somebody had bucked the Old Gentleman—no - matter who or how—and the Old Gentleman, through Mr. Halloran, was - bucking back, was nearer than ever to winning. And when he should win, as - win he must, there would be steady work and meat every day for the - labourers of Wauchung. This was all they knew or cared. But was the spirit - less honest and earnest than the spirit of those jack-booted Frenchmen or - those white-clad crusaders? Allowing for the glamour of the past, for the - shining mist that enlarges the old figures as their real outlines grow - steadily fainter, were these hard-handed fellows, heaving the new lumber - from the deck of the <i>Number Two</i> to the wharf, laughing and joking - and swearing like pirates all the while, so different? Was there no - romance here? - </p> - <p> - Before the work had begun, Halloran saw Du Bois, an old lumber inspector, - on the wharf and called to him. The old man, a soft felt hat pulled down - on the side of his head, his gray beard streaked with tobacco, turned and - waited for him to come up. - </p> - <p> - “I have a boy here, Du Bois” [pronounced DoO Boyce], “who thinks he'd like - to learn lumber-checking. Suppose you take hold of him and see if we can - make anything out of him.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Mr. Halloran. Where is he?” - </p> - <p> - “Up at the office. You'd better send a man after him. His name's George - Bigelow.” - </p> - <p> - “All right, sir; I'll keep an eye on him.” - </p> - <p> - The Inspector spat voluminously and hailed one of the labourers. - </p> - <p> - “Hi, you there! Run up to the office and tell George to get a scale and a - tally-board and come down here. Grease your knees!” - </p> - <p> - The labourer ambled off and soon returned with George. - </p> - <p> - “Well, young man,” said Du Bois, “they tell me you're a lumber-checker.” - </p> - <p> - “I—I thought maybe I could learn.” - </p> - <p> - “What's that in your hand?” - </p> - <p> - “A tally-board.” - </p> - <p> - “Other hand?” - </p> - <p> - “A scale.” - </p> - <p> - “What's the size of that stick over there? No, don't scale it—stand - here. What are your eyes for?” - </p> - <p> - George had not passed the last few days idly. The lumbermen were a - picturesque, vigorous lot of men, and simply by associating with them he - had begun absorbing some knowledge of their work. Now he made a snap - guess. “Two-by-twelve-sixteen.” - </p> - <p> - “Other one yonder?” - </p> - <p> - “Two-by-eight-twelve.” - </p> - <p> - “Call that a twelve? You'll have to do better than that. See that steamer? - We're going to unload her in another minute, and I want you to mark down - every stick on your tally-sheet as the boys take it off. Tend your - business, now. We'll put some hair on your chest before we get through - with you.” - </p> - <p> - So George took his place on the wharf as the <i>Number Two</i> came - alongside, and promptly found himself the centre of a dozen gangs of men - all hustling past with the sticks, while the two steamer-hoists lowered - them over in bundles, and the men on the steamer slid them off from half a - dozen points at once. Each plank and timber, Du Bois had said, was to be - checked on the tally-sheet and its dimensions recorded. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - Halloran, Crosman and Du Bois met for a moment near the office where they - could overlook the yards. The Inspector was shaking his head at the still, - blue sky. - </p> - <p> - “I'd like to see a few clouds up there, Mr. Halloran. We ain't had any - rain since the devil knows when.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran, for reply, stirred up the sawdust with his foot. It was dry and - loose. - </p> - <p> - “I don't like it, myself.” - </p> - <p> - “Are we going to pile it in all through here? You ain't figuring on taking - any outside, are you?” - </p> - <p> - “No; we can't do that. Fill in the strip yonder”—indicating the - narrow end of the peninsula—“before you take up the ground around - the mills.” - </p> - <p> - “How about the insurance?” suggested Cros-man. “I haven't done anything - about it yet. Shall I see to it?” - </p> - <p> - “No; we'll carry it ourselves.” - </p> - <p> - Crosman and the Inspector were silent for a time after this, and all three - looked down at the activity on the wharf. Neither of the assistants knew - what a relief it was to the Manager to see that one load of lumber and to - know that there was a score of other loads already on the way. It was his - first glimpse of the tangible cause of the fighting, and the sight of it - gave him the feeling of actually getting his hands on something. There was - still to be considered the guarding it from fire, and, at the right - moment, the putting it on the market. He did not know what new move - Bigelow might be considering, but he could not see how any living man - could block him now. Every order had been delivered to a lake port, so - that he had no need to call on the railroads. And an attempt to restrain - him from using the lake carriers, in view of the fact that the Higginson - steamers alone could do the work with an extra allowance of time, seemed - out of the question. Bigelow would resort to rascality, of course, - whenever he could see or make an opening; but it was a question whether he - could find any more openings. - </p> - <p> - “You wasn't here when we had the big fire, in '79?” The Inspector was - falling into a reminiscent frame of mind. - </p> - <p> - “Hardly.” - </p> - <p> - “That was before we had a steam fire-engine. There was only a hand-machine - downtown—damn little syringe on wheels—wouldn't put out a box - of matches if the wind was blowin'—and so the Old Gentleman kep' - about a hundred buckets hung in the mills. Joe Brady was fire chief—he - worked in the freight house. But the fire come on a Sunday and Joe 'd been - loadin' up ever since six o'clock Saturday night, and when him and the - boys come up with their squirt-gun they'd forgot the key to the fire-plug, - and they hadn't brung hose enough to use the river. Buck Patterson—he - was superintendent—was passin' out buckets, and he come out to see - what was the matter, and you'd ought to a-heard him talk to Joe. Buck was - pretty profane, sometimes, and he just busted out that night. I guess he'd - never had much use for Joe, only he hadn't had a chance to tell him about - it before. 'Why, you dam gutter-sponge of a patty de foy graw,' says he—I'm - only tellin' you what he said; I was standin' right by and heard the whole - thing—he called him a patty de foy graw!—'You wart,' he says, - 'you liver-eyed, kettle-bellied soak, you ain't fit to polish - toastin'-forks in hell!' He never talked just like nobody else, Buck - didn't. All this while Joe was hollerin' to little Murphy to run for the - key and Murphy was hollerin' back, 'You go to the devil, your father, and - get it yourself,' and sayin' it over and over, he was so excited; when - Buck just took Joe by the collar and give him a jolt with his knee, and - told him to shut up and get that key, and Joe tun off meek as an infant in - arms.” - </p> - <p> - “What was the loss that night?” asked Crosman. - </p> - <p> - “About twenty thousand—eighty per cent, insured. The Old Gentleman - didn't have a very comf'terble time himself. He'd been ridin' around on - his buckboard tellin' the boys what to do. He started downtown after more - buckets, and just as he got out to the bridge I looked up and see him all - a-blazin' out behind. He didn't even know it yet. Must ha' been a spark - lit on his coat-tails. I hollered at him, but he was whippin' up the mare, - and I had to chase him across the bridge. He begun to feel funny then, and - when he pulled up I grabbed his arm and jerked the reins out of his hand, - and hauled him off the seat and rolled down the bank with him into the - river. I guess there ain't much doubt I saved his life——— - Hello, they're stopping work down there!” - </p> - <p> - This last exclamation was caused by the Manager starting abruptly for the - wharf. Crosman and the Inspector followed. - </p> - <p> - The work was not wholly stopped, but a little group of labourers was - gathered about a stick of timber watching George, who was measuring it - with his scale. Some of the other workmen were standing and sitting - nearby, laughing and bantering, while a few made a small pretense of work. - When Halloran came on the scene George looked up with a dogged expression. - </p> - <p> - “What's this?” Halloran asked the gang-boss. - </p> - <p> - “We was going a little too fast for the kid.” - </p> - <p> - Evidently George had interpreted his orders strictly, and when his eye - failed him in the bewilderment of seeing a dozen sticks passing at a time, - had stopped each one to scale it. Halloran turned to Du Bois. - </p> - <p> - “Give the boy a lift, will you?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0205.jpg" alt="0205 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0205.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - The old Inspector nodded, with a twinkle in his eye. - </p> - <p> - “Here, young man,” he said, “take 'em down for me. Go ahead, boys!” - </p> - <p> - He hitched himself up on the cap of a snubbing-post, and when the - donkey-engines clanked again and the timbers came dropping and sliding to - the wharf, and the files of labourers shuffled past, he went on with his - story. His eyes roved absently up and down the wharf, and a half-circle of - tobacco juice rapidly formed around the post. Not a stick escaped his eye, - within a hundred feet of rapidly moving timbers; George's pencil was kept - flying over the tally-sheet. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, sir,” he went on, “we went down that bank—two-b'-four-fourteen, - two-b'-eight-ten—like two cats—two-b'-ten-sixteen—a-fightin'. - Two-b'-twelve-twelve. The Old Gentleman didn't—two-b'-twelve-eighteen— - know yet just what was up—two-b'-six-twelve, two-b'-six-fourteen—and - he got his hand twisted up in my hair—two-b'-ten-ten, two-b'-ten- - fourteen, two-b'-ten-twelve—and when we struck the water—two-b'- - twelve-ten, two-b'-eight-eighteen—” - </p> - <p> - A few minutes later, when Halloran passed again that way, Du Bois was - still in the story, though he had now no auditor but the preoccupied - George. - </p> - <p> - That same night another steamer came in, and within a few days it was - necessary to put on a night shift to keep up with the influx of lumber. - The yards filled rapidly with high piles until the tramways and mills were - nearly hidden from sight. New lumber it was, not yet so dry but that some - of the water from the rivers still moistened it; and the air was sweet - with the scent of pine. It brought to mind the deep forests far back from - the lake, the rustle of the wind through the new boughs far overhead, and - the long, still aisles, carpeted in fragrant brown, where the deer run. - There were bears out there, skulking away from the axman, grubbing up wild - turnips and hunting ants and slugs in rotten stumps; there were otter and - muskrats and perhaps a lingering colony of beaver. Soon the time would - come when the deer and bear could reclaim their lands, for the axmen were - nearly through. Another score of years, perhaps, and where had been great - forests would be a waste of blackened stumps—all “cut out” for the - market. Rivers would be lower and dams useless. Thriving lumber cities on - the lake would be facing ruin—their reason for being gone with the - last timber—or casting about to attract manufacturers or to - cultivate beets—anything to stop the drain on their vitality as the - restless lumbermen should turn west or south for new lands where they - could found new cities and begin the problem anew. - </p> - <p> - In ten days it was all in, the six million and odd feet of boards and - timber. And as Halloran walked down to the bridge one night and leaned on - the railing and looked over the broad piles he was nervous and depressed. - A part of the strain was over and he was feeling the reaction. The key to - the situation was in his hands now—it rested with him to carry the - lumber safely over to the day for selling, and then to make it pay. He - could not yet see Mr. Higginson. He had been to Doctor Brown's this - evening and the Doctor was decisive. The moon came out as he stood there - and shed its light on the river and the lumber. He straightened up to go; - then waited until he caught a glimpse of the watchman on his round of the - yards. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - BOOK III — THROUGH FIRE - </h2> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER I—A Little Talk with Captain Craig - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>ull as the - newspapers were of the great corn deal on the Board of Trade, there was no - getting at the facts that lay behind it. The brokers seemed to look on Le - Duc as their principal; Le Duc had nothing to say. Halloran read the - papers eagerly every day, watching for a word that would justify his - conjectures, but the secret was too well kept. - </p> - <p> - One morning a day or two after the lumber had come in, he asked Craig to - step into the office. - </p> - <p> - “Captain,” he said, “I want to talk to you about this corn business. I'm - inclined to think that if we could find out who is backing Apples it might - be just what we want to know most.” - </p> - <p> - “You think it's Bigelow?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, if it is Bigelow, and if his reasons for keeping dark are what I - think, the sooner we know it the better for Higginson & Company. Do - you think, from anything Mrs. Craig has said, that Bigelow knows who - Apples and his wife are?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, no. Jennie doesn't talk much about those times.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't like to bother you with this, Captain, but business and family - matters are so mixed that I don't know any other way to get at it. Would - you be willing to find out if there were any letters—anything that - Le Duc might have got hold of that would give him a grip on Bigelow?” - </p> - <p> - The Captain looked grave. “I kind o' don't like to stir her up, now she's - having such a good rest. But—well, I don't know why not. Yes, I'll - ask her. I'm afraid,” he added, as he arose, “I'm afraid I'm getting kind - o' chicken-hearted these days. You see, I haven't had her back very long. - Yes, the first good chance that comes along I'll talk it over with her and - let you know what she says.” - </p> - <p> - During most of the day Halloran was shut up in the office, figuring and - working out some new schedules. At noon he spent an hour or more uptown, - and a half-hour climbing around under the bridge; and later Crosman was - hailed, out in the yards. - </p> - <p> - “Could you drop around this evening for awhile?” said Halloran. - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes,” was the rather reluctant reply, followed by a blush and a - grin. “Any particular time?” - </p> - <p> - “Right after supper, for half an hour or so.” - </p> - <p> - “All right; I'll be there.” - </p> - <p> - In the evening, when Crosman entered the Manager's room, the first thing - he observed was a purple sweater on the back of a chair by the bed. Below - it was an old pair of trousers, a cap, and, on the floor, a pair of rubber - boots. He glanced curiously at these things as he greeted his superior; - and Halloran's eyes followed his. - </p> - <p> - “That's my fireman's rig,” he said. “Didn't know I was on the department, - did you?” - </p> - <p> - “No. What's all this?” - </p> - <p> - “It's what I want to see you about, as much as anything. I haven't gone to - sleep a night since the lumber began coming in without expecting to hear - the bell before morning. If the stuff was mine maybe I wouldn't care so - much.” Crosman's face sobered. “But you said we'd carry the insurance - ourselves.” - </p> - <p> - “You didn't suppose I wanted to do it that way, did you? We can't pay the - price, that's all. And we can't lose the lumber, either. It's up to us to - see that nothing happens. I've worked out a little plan here and I want - you to help me carry it through.” - </p> - <p> - Crosman drew up his chair to the table. His mind had been fully occupied - of late, and it had not before come home to him what a heavy—what a - very heavy—load his Manager was carrying. Now these six million feet - of pine and hemlock loomed in his thoughts and brought a very serious - expression to his face. - </p> - <p> - “Cheer up, old man; we haven't lost it yet, that I know of, and we're - going to do our best not to lose it. But you see, in buying this lumber - and getting it all in here, we've done only half of it; the other half is - to take care of it and sell it at a profit. Now look at this. I've - borrowed some spare hose from the department. That's coming over in the - morning, and we'll have it coupled onto the plug by Mill No. 1 and kept - ready under the tramway. Our own hose will be coupled to the west plug. - The two steamers are to be at the wharf, with steam up, all the time, - ready to throw a stream on anything near the wharves: they'll lie one at - each end, you see. The engineers are to stand watches aboard and keep a - couple of hands sleeping by to man the hose. Then, if we have two watchmen - always on duty, and the rest of the boys sleeping in their shirts and - stockings, we could do fairly quick work, with the town engine to help.” - </p> - <p> - “There are the buckets in the mills, and by the office.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; we'll use those, too.” - </p> - <p> - “And this”—he was examining the paper—“is the way you want the - boys divided?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. If the fire should be at the north end, where the yards are widest, - you will take charge of the hose at the mill plug and see that the buckets - are started; I'll take the west plug, where I can have an eye on the - wharves. Those are the men to work with you, these with me. You'd better - see yours the first thing in the morning—here's the schedule of - watches—and engage them. You see, they're all men that live near the - fence. Tell them we don't want a man that can't get to his station two - minutes after the <i>Number One</i> blows her whistle, no matter if it's - 2:30 A. M.” - </p> - <p> - “The whistle will be the signal, then?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I've told MacGregor to blow until he hears the bark of every dog in - town. I want to get this all fixed in the morning, and so fixed that there - can't be any misunderstandings. Any time after to-morrow noon, if that - whistle blows, it means get to the yards in two minutes or lose your job. - You'd better tell them that.” - </p> - <p> - “All right; I'll see to it. But gee whiz!” Crosman leaned back and looked - at Halloran. “Here we're talking about this just as if it was going to - happen.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, maybe it is. Anyhow, that's how we've got to look at it. I'd talk - to the boys that way, too.” He rose and sat on the corner of the table, - looking down earnestly at the other. “They've got to understand that we - mean business. And say, look here, Crosman; what are we sitting here - talking about this for? Why aren't we doing it to-night?” - </p> - <p> - Crosman's expression dropped from serious to dismal. “Why—why—all - right.” - </p> - <p> - “Sorry if I'm butting into any plans of yours, but good Lord, old man, - have you stopped to think what this means? Here I'd got my mind settled on - to-morrow when I ought to have known all the while that to-day was the - time. We'll do it now. You look up the boys on that paper and I'll root - mine out and have them bring the hose over. We'll get everything in shape - before we go to bed.” - </p> - <p> - The assistant was caught up and whirled along by Halloran's energy. “All - right,” he repeated. “But I ought to call Mamie up. She's—she's—I - was thinking of going around there.” - </p> - <p> - “Use my telephone. Excuse me if I start right out, won't you?” - </p> - <p> - Before Crosman could stammer a “Certainly,” he had snatched up his hat and - disappeared. - </p> - <p> - Disagreeable as rush orders might be to a man with his family about him of - an evening, there was nothing to be said; and within an hour some were - starting out for duty on watch, or for a night on one of the steamers, - while others dragged the hose-reel out of the town and across the bridge - to the yards and put it in order for instant use. When the preparations - were completed, toward eleven o'clock, Halloran called the men together - and gave them their final instructions. - </p> - <p> - Crosman and he were left alone for a moment when the last man had gone to - his post. - </p> - <p> - “Well—that's a good job done,” observed the assistant. “I guess - there's nothing more, is there?” - </p> - <p> - “No——- Oh, yes; one thing. I've thought a good deal about the - south end. The yard's narrow there for quite a way and there's no fireplug - at that end.” They were walking through the gate and toward the bridge. - “It's the least likely place to catch first, because there's water on - three sides, but if it should there's only one thing we could do. Look - here! Under the town end of the bridge—I'll show you when we get - there—I've hung a tin pail with matches and fuses in it, where it - won't be disturbed and it's likely to keep dry. And about fifty yards down - the bank there's some dynamite in another pail under the water. I've put a - sign on a post to scare the boys away. There, see that white thing? That's - it! I couldn't keep the stuff home or in the yards, and there, I think, is - about the safest place. You see, if either of us should be running out - here we could just turn off the road a little way and pick up the two - pails. It's on Higginson land and I don't believe any one can object.” - </p> - <p> - They went down together to see that the pails had not been molested. “I've - given orders,” said Halloran, “to several of the boys to come down here - every time they pass and report if anything's wrong.” - </p> - <p> - Crosman was aroused by the work of the evening. “Well,” he burst out, as - they were climbing the fence and taking the road again, “I must say you've - just about covered the ground. I don't know of anything more we could do.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know—I feel a little better, anyway. I'll walk along to the - house with you, if you're going that way.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—I'll tell you—I—I'm not, exactly. I kind of said——” - </p> - <p> - “Going to stop around at the Higginsons', eh?” - </p> - <p> - “I thought I might, if———” - </p> - <p> - “All right; good-night. Look out that they don't shoot you for a burglar. - But, say; hold on a minute. Has the crisis come yet with—with Mr. - Higginson?” - </p> - <p> - “No; they expect it to-morrow. Doctor McArthur came up from Chicago this - afternoon, and the other one, the Detroit doctor, gets in late to-night. - Mamie's waiting up for him.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - The following afternoon, as Halloran was closing his desk, Captain Craig - came in. - </p> - <p> - “I've had a little talk with Jennie this noon, Mr. Halloran. I had to - explain to her about things, and how you felt a little delicate about it, - and she told me the whole thing. You see, it's considerable of a story.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran closed the door and drew up a chair. “Sit down, Captain.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now, it all goes back to a few months after Lizzie was married. Le - Duc wasn't doing very well and he made it pretty uncomfortable for Jennie, - talking about supporting her and that sort of thing; and finally one day - he asked her if she didn't have letters or anything that could make it - worth while to see Bigelow. Jennie'd never have done anything in the - world, no matter though the alimony <i>had</i> been allowed her by the - courts; she always had a horror of going to law about it. But Le Duc was - hard pushed, and I guess she was glad to do anything that would make - things easier for all of them, so she let him have Bigelow's letters—most - of them promising to send money. They were all, she says, plain evidence - that he hadn't paid her.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran was sitting far back in his chair, his hands clasped around one - knee, his eyes fixed on the desk. And while the Captain talked, his - thoughts were running swiftly backward and forward and all around this - interesting subject. He was hearing what he had most wished to hear. - </p> - <p> - “And so Le Duc went out to Evanston one night to see him, and they were - all excited about it, Jennie says. But after that things took a change. Le - Duc wouldn't say much about it—-he acted a little queer—but he - sort of made her think nothing was coming of it. And then, a little later, - he got a job, nobody seemed to know just what—and moved over to - where they are now. And he let Jennie and the McGinnis boy understand that - they could come with them if they would pay a rather high board. Oh, he's - a——-” Craig thought it better to pause, and turned his - thoughts away from the meanness of his son-in-law. He went on with better - control. “Of course Jennie couldn't do that, so they went without her. And - Jennie was so timid about it all she didn't even like to ask for her - letters back.” - </p> - <p> - “And Apples has them still?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; he's got them.” - </p> - <p> - “And is that all she knows?” Halloran could not keep a little - disappointment out of his voice. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, that's the whole thing. He's been keeping his mouth shut up tight - about the whole business. It pretty nearly tells the story, don't you - think?” - </p> - <p> - “Why, yes, in a way. It's not quite enough to move on, I'm afraid. But - I'll have to think it over; and maybe I can see a way through. We don't - know yet that G. Hyde is behind that corner—but I'm much obliged, - Captain.” - </p> - <p> - “You're welcome.” - </p> - <p> - The Captain hurried home to have a few hours with his family, for now that - Halloran's “fire department” was organized he was sleeping, by choice, on - his steamer. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <p> - It was two o'clock the next morning. Crosman was far, far away, coasting - down the joyous hills of dreamland. A laughing girl was at his side. She - could not play long with him, for dimly he understood that the doctors - were coming, and she must be at her post to welcome them. It would never - do for the doctors to come and find no greeting from Mamie. But dreamland - was bright to-night—the Little Folk were out in force, dancing like - thistle-down over the Queen Anne's lace, or coasting with him down the - starry slopes, a half-dozen on his back, more at his ears whistling gaily - that Mamie was true—Blue for true!—Blue for true!—and - hundreds of the maddest fellows capering on ahead, bounding and blowing - from blossom to blossom. One danced far before, clad in a purple sweater - and hearing a whistle. Now and again he blew a blast, daintily at first, - like the signal of mint to the bees, then louder and shriller and - shriller. It screeched hoarsely in his ears; a cold wind nipped at his - legs and feet; the Little Folk were swarming around him, all in purple - now, shouting wildly, urging him on—on—hurry—hurry! The - whistle was deeper and hoarser—where was he—where————-? - </p> - <p> - He was on his feet in the centre of the floor. Through the open window - came the deep whistle of the <i>Number One</i>. - </p> - <p> - In ten seconds he had tumbled into his trousers. Five more, and his boots - were on. Another ten, and he was banging down the stairs and out the door, - leaving it open behind him—and struggling into his coat as he ran. - He could not guess how long the whistle had been sounding; but there was - as yet no light in the sky above the yards. He must be on time: it lay - with him to set an example to the men. His side was aching already, but he - ran it down. As he drew near to the bridge he came out in full view of the - yards, but could see no light. Perhaps he was early—perhaps the fire - was starting on the river side. He thought of the dynamite, and with a - bound was over the fence and running down to the water. A moment more and - he was making for the bridge, pail in hand. As he paused here he heard - some one running across, above him; and farther off were shouts and the - sounds of running. The <i>Number One</i> was still whistling. - </p> - <p> - Over the bridge he went, a tin pail in each hand; around the corner of the - fence and on to the open gate. He was dashing through when he was hailed - by a familiar voice. - </p> - <p> - There, sitting on a projecting plank of the nearest lumber-pile, was - Halloran, a lantern in one hand, his watch in the other. Grouped around - him were half a dozen panting men. - </p> - <p> - “All right, Crosman. False alarm. But you've made bully time——— - Look out, there!” - </p> - <p> - This last was addressed to Du Bois, who came whirling around the gate-post - and crashed full-tilt into Crosman. The assistant staggered, but recovered - his balance; and the two sat down with the others. The men came bounding - in until fully thirty were there—more by five or six than had been - engaged. Halloran threw the light of his lantern on them. - </p> - <p> - “Time's up,” he said. “Where's Potin?” [pronounced Pot'n.] - </p> - <p> - No one answered, but after a moment the missing Canadian appeared. - </p> - <p> - “You're late,” said Halloran. “What's the matter?” - </p> - <p> - The man had to pause to breathe. “It took me a m-min-ute, Mister Halloran. - I—I guess I didn't hear the first whistle.” - </p> - <p> - “We need better ears than yours, then. We can't use you after this. - Runyon”—turning to one of the promptest of the outsiders—“I'll - take you on in Potin's place. We don't pay men to sleep. That's all now, - boys. You can go home.” - </p> - <p> - But now that they were aroused there was a tendency to wait and talk it - over. - </p> - <p> - “What you got in them pails, Mr. Crosman?” called Du Bois. “Did you forget - and bring your lunch?” - </p> - <p> - “No; it's dynamite.” In a conversational tone. - </p> - <p> - “It's what? Say, you're fooling!” He drew back as he spoke. The other men - looked at one another. - </p> - <p> - For reply Crosman produced a brown cylinder. - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord! And I run into that!” - </p> - <p> - In another moment Halloran and Crosman were alone. Down the alleys, - between the piles, around the mill, out the gate—for every hole a - man could squeeze through was abruptly pressed into service—the men - had disappeared. And when the noise of the scampering feet had died away, - Halloran said, with a chuckle: “Here's Du Bois's hat. I'll take it along.” - The next morning he found him on the wharf. “You didn't stop for your hat - last night, Du Bois. I guess you were called away suddenly.” - </p> - <p> - The Inspector accepted the hat and pulled it on, drew out his - tobacco-pouch, bit a half-moon from his plug, tucked it away in his cheek, - and swept his eyes quizzically around the harbour. “That's all right, Mr. - Halloran; that's all right,” he observed, discharging a preliminary brown - streak. “I s'pose I've got to go up against old Salt Peter some day or - other, but if I'm goin' to have anything to say about it myself I'd a heap - rather go up whole. If I was to come an arm or a leg at a time he might - think it was old G. Hyde Bigelow tryin' to fool him in sections, and the - first thing I knew he'd be sayin', 'Bigelow, you darned old pile o' culls, - there's a line o' little red divils down there a-sittin' up nights for - you. Git along!'” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER II—Going to Headquarters - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>alloran had not - yet exhausted his resources in getting at the facts behind the corn deal. - There was one person who probably could, if he would, carry the story - further, and that was Jimmie McGinnis. And so Halloran decided to run down - to Chicago. - </p> - <p> - The Captain, when he heard of it, came to see him. “Harry Crosman says - you're going down to the city, Mr. Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; I shall take the night train.” - </p> - <p> - “When I told Jennie about it she wondered if you'd be going anywhere near - Lizzie's place.” - </p> - <p> - “I can, easily enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Jennie, you see, has been sort of looking for some word from her this - week, and there ain't none come yet, and would you mind taking along a - little bundle for Lizzie, and maybe a note?” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit. You'll have them here before supper time, won't you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; surely.” - </p> - <p> - And so it fell out that Halloran boarded the train that night with the - bundle under his arm. - </p> - <p> - His trip was to be as short as he could make it, for he did not like to be - away at this time. Full instructions were left with his assistant; and his - post as amateur fire marshal was assigned to the Captain during his - absence. - </p> - <p> - Jimmie, it seemed, had been with the Le Ducs until the change. Where to - find him now was a question, or it would have been if his eye had not - alighted on the name “Elmer Le Duc” in the evening paper, among the - attractions advertised by a Clark Street vaudeville theatre. He reached - Chicago in the morning, and in the afternoon dropped around to the - theatre. From the display of the name in five-inch letters on the - bill-boards of a downtown continuous performance it was to be inferred - that Jimmie was getting on in the world. His position on the programme, - too—toward three o'clock—and the little burst of applause that - followed the appearance of his name on the announcement card at the side - of the stage, aided the impression. And finally, when the familiar - wizen-faced, thin-legged boy, as undersized as ever, appeared, shouted out - the preliminary song of his specialty, and fell into a long and - wonderfully intricate dance, there was no doubting he had popped into - favour. When he had disappeared, after the third recall, and the next turn - was announced, Halloran slipped out and strolled a few steps up the alley - that led to the stage-door. - </p> - <p> - A quarter of an hour later a large, coarse-featured young woman, wearing a - rakish French costume, came out into the alley; and behind her, barely - reaching to her shoulder, in the unfamiliar get-up of a light suit, a - wide-brimmed pearl-gray hat, tan shoes, and a bamboo stick, appeared - Jimmie. They started to walk off together, but at Halloran's hail the - young man turned. - </p> - <p> - “How are you,” he said with a nod, somewhat as if their last meeting had - been but a few hours earlier. “Want to speak to me?” - </p> - <p> - At Halloran's affirmative, he left the woman, who stared at Halloran as - she waited. - </p> - <p> - “Been to the show?” asked Jimmie. “Got 'em cold, ain't I? I always told Le - Duc I could do it the minute I got a chance at a big house.” - </p> - <p> - “I've been looking for you, Jimmie. Won't you have dinner with me to-night - at the Auditorium?” - </p> - <p> - “Dinner, eh? What time?” - </p> - <p> - “Half-past six.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose so. You see I was goin' with Jane—that's Jane Scott, you - know; greatest character singer and dancer on the stage. We're goin' to be - married next week, and I'm sorter supposed to hang around her most of the - time. But I guess I can make it. Anythin' doin'?” - </p> - <p> - “Nothing very much. I'll look for you, then, at half-past six, in the main - office.” - </p> - <p> - The dinner hour had come before Halloran could stop wondering over the - idea of Jimmie McGinnis marrying. When they were seated together at a - quiet table he spoke of it. - </p> - <p> - “So you're going to be married, Jimmie?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; sure. But say, they ain't callin' me that no more. I'm Elmer Le Duc - now, you know.” - </p> - <p> - “Aren't you starting in rather young?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, not for a man in the profession. You see, Jane's husband———” - </p> - <p> - “Her husband!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. He's a skate, you see—lushes. He's a fool, too, 'cause Jane's - kind-hearted, and she'd a-gone right on supportin' him if he'd a-treated - her half decent. She can haul in her hundred and twenty-five every week in - the year—regular gold-mine. And a man that ain't got head enough to - hold on to a thing like that 'ad better drop off. We've been talkin' it - over, Jane an' me, ever since I made my hit. You see, she's got a two-part - skit that calls for a small man, smaller'n her, a part I can walk right - into; an' I thought it over an' told her I'd marry her an' manage the - business. She's told me since, she knew the minute she struck me that I - was her man. It's a good thing for both of us, you see. We can clear up - two hundred a week easy, and our expenses won't be near so much. I told - her I'd put up the cash for her divorce. It's such a sure case that it - ain't costin' a great lot. Of course, I don't need to marry her, but the - savin' in doublin' up on hotel an' sleeper bills 'll more'n pay for the - divorce the first year.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran looked at Jimmie, shook his head, and then smiled in spite of - himself. And Jimmie had to grin a little, too. - </p> - <p> - It had been a question how to open the next subject. Halloran knew that, - wherever there was a choice of ways to an end, one open and direct, the - other tortuous and subterranean, Jimmie's mind would instinctively seek - the latter. He thought he had better slip easily from the one subject to - the other; for if the boy were to suspect him of any strong desire to - inform himself concerning Le Duc he would most likely draw back, from - sheer perversity, into his shell. - </p> - <p> - “You say you're known as Le Duc now? Didn't you travel with them for - awhile?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; but it wouldn't go. Too much madam there. Let me tell you this, Mr. - Halloran. Don't you ever go into partnership with a man and his wife. It's - hell on wheels.” - </p> - <p> - “They didn't get on well, then?” - </p> - <p> - “No; the only payin' thing in the combination was the name. Le Duc's one - of the best names in the profession, an' he's been more'n square about - lettin' me go on an' use it.” - </p> - <p> - “I saw them a little while ago at their hotel. He seems to have struck a - good thing now.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, they say he's a big man on the Board.” - </p> - <p> - “How did he ever get into it? There must be somebody behind him.” - </p> - <p> - Jimmie fingered his fork and looked up with an expressionless face. “Is - they?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - Halloran tried again. “I don't know, but I'm inclined to think there's - more in it than the papers say.” - </p> - <p> - Jimmie, for some reason, chose to give no information whatever on this - question. And Halloran had the questionable pleasure of bidding him - good-evening in the consciousness that he was no nearer what he wanted to - know than he had been in Wauchung. The next step was a matter of careful - thinking; he was not even sure that there could be a next step. Meantime, - he had an errand at the Le Ducs', and as it was not yet eight o'clock he - decided to run up there. - </p> - <p> - The great event had taken place in the Le Duc household. And when Halloran - was shown into the apartment, he found a happy father in his shirt-sleeves - dancing about a small white bundle on the sofa, a beaming mother also in - dishabille, and a simpering nurse-maid. Apples was cordial, merry, - expansive; he was delighted to see his old friend Halloran—fairly - dragged him in. Good stories and playful allusions were continually rising - in his mind and finding expression. He was boisterously demonstrative, and - given to squeezing his wife's hand or slipping his arm around her as his - tongue rattled along. - </p> - <p> - Halloran delivered his message and his bundle, and finally, when he had - been made to say all that there is to be said about some other man's - infant, the mother and nurse took it away and left the two men to smoke - and chat. - </p> - <p> - After a time there came a pause. And then an idea that had been floating - in Halloran's mind since his disappointment with Jimmie took sudden form. - </p> - <p> - “How do you like working with Bigelow?” he asked, without the slightest - change of expression, knocking the ash off his cigar as he spoke. And - Apples took the bait. - </p> - <p> - “First rate. He's a driver, but he's got a great head on him.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I know. I used to work for him myself, out in Evanston. I don't - believe he has ever done much on the Board before this deal.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I don't think he has.” A peculiar expression was coming into Le Due's - face. “Who told you about it?” he asked. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, I've always known more or less of his movements. He was hit rather - hard in Kentucky Coal a little while back, but I suppose this corner will - more than square that, if it goes through.” - </p> - <p> - Le Duc smiled. “Don't you worry about that. I guess that coal business is - nothing he can't stand. A momentary change of opinion doesn't alter the - fact that there's just as much coal there as there ever was.” - </p> - <p> - “I suppose there is—just as much.” - </p> - <p> - Le Duc was looking not quite comfortable. “Of course,” he began, “there - are times with every man whose interests are spread out widely——” - But this wouldn't do. He was blundering deeper and deeper into some sort - of a trap, and not wholly grasping the situation, he decided to keep - still. - </p> - <p> - Halloran had learned enough. His trip to Chicago was not to be a failure, - after all. He had learned so much, in fact, that when he was back in his - room at the hotel and could sit down and think it all over, there seemed - to be no reason for delay in turning his information to account. Over and - over again that night he considered his case: he tested it from every - point of view to assure himself of its soundness; and in the morning, - instead of heading for Wauchung, he wired Crosman that he would return by - way of the lumbering town of Corrigan, the seat of the Corrigan mills, in - the upper peninsula. The Corrigans were among the largest owners in the - “combine”; and if they were as tired of losing money as he believed, they - would doubtless be glad to hear what he had to say. - </p> - <p> - It was an eight-hour ride from Chicago to Corrigan, and evening was so - near when he arrived that he went directly to his hotel for some dinner, - and made arrangements by telephone to see the younger Mr. Corrigan at his - home in the evening. - </p> - <p> - “I don't know that we have ever met, Mr. Corrigan,” Halloran said, when - the two men were closeted. “I am with Higginson & Company, of - Wauchung. Your company and ours have not agreed, so far, in our attitude - toward G. Hyde Bigelow. Mr. Higginson refused his offers at the start - because we had reason to distrust him. We know now that we were right.” - </p> - <p> - Corrigan looked at him with some surprise. “If you have any charges to - make against Mr. Bigelow you should see him, not me.” - </p> - <p> - “I have no charges, Mr. Corrigan, but I rather think you have. I've come - here to lay them before you and leave you free to push them or not, as you - choose. As I understand it, when this combination was organized, Mr. - Bigelow was generally thought to be a responsible man. We didn't believe - it, so we stood out rather than have him direct our business. Since that - time he has got into such difficulties with his Kentucky investments that - in order to raise money he has taken to speculating heavily on the Board - of Trade. He is operating the big corn deal through the man named Le Duc.” - </p> - <p> - “You'll excuse me, sir, but I don't see———” - </p> - <p> - He paused, and Halloran went on: “You understand, Mr. Corrigan, that our - position is what it was at the start—we are against this - combination. And if I didn't believe that you are going to be against it, - too, I shouldn't be here. I think you'll agree with me that if what I say - is tme, Mr. Bigelow is not a man to trust.” - </p> - <p> - “If it is tme———” - </p> - <p> - “And there is a way to prove it. I suggest that at the meeting, which - comes, I believe, next month, you lay these charges before Mr. Bigelow, - without warning, and give him a chance to explain. You are at liberty to - say that I gave you the information.” - </p> - <p> - This was all he had come to say, and he was so sure of its effect that he - was willing to leave it and give the seed time to grow. But Corrigan was - aroused. - </p> - <p> - “This—this amounts to saying that Bigelow is secretly plunging on - the Board.” - </p> - <p> - “It certainly does.” - </p> - <p> - “And this Le Duc, who is he?” - </p> - <p> - “He's a cheap actor who married Bigelow's daughter.” - </p> - <p> - “His daughter! His oldest child is not a dozen years old.” - </p> - <p> - “By his present wife, yes. But he's been married before.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll think this over, Mr. Halloran; I'll think it over.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran rose. “I came up here from Chicago to tell you that Bigelow is - unsound. The sooner everybody connected with the Michigan lumber business - finds it out the better for the business. Good-night.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night, sir.” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER III—Mr. Babcock's Last Card - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s the feat of - riding thirty horses around a circus hippodrome calls for the highest - strength and skill, so the task of guiding the complicated affairs of - Bigelow & Company through the difficulties that threatened them - demanded sound character and experience. For a time the Bigelow ventures - had shown a persistent upward tendency, and the head of the firm had then - made an imposing figure, but a fair-weather man was hardly adequate now. - Kentucky Coal had slumped alarmingly; New Freighters had perhaps been - overrated; and booming suburban real estate was discovering unexpected - inertia where abnormal growth had been gambled on. But the most disturbing - element was the lumber fight. That Higginson & Company could not only - hold out until the meeting, but could actually get the better of the - Trust, had not been foreseen. Questions would be asked at this meeting: - there might even be some tension. And so it was that Mr. Bigelow was not - joking much nowadays. And so it was that Mr. Babcock took his grip from - behind the door and went to Wauchung. - </p> - <p> - The air blew keen from the West as Mr. Babcock walked swiftly out toward - the Wauchung bridge. It was a crisp, invigorating breeze, with the - strength of the lake in it, and a faint odour of pine. Men grow rugged and - hardy in this region, whether they follow blaze-marks or mariner's - compass. No malaria oozes from the dry white sand; the children rather - draw from it the sap that makes the pine tree tall and sound. If you had - strayed into the forest in the earlier time of reckless cutting; if you - had stood under the tight green roof on a scented rug of needles, finer - than ever came from India, and listened to the song of the shanty-boy as - he struck his peavey into a bleeding trunk, could you have wondered at the - lilt in his melody, at the vigour, even the harshness in his voice? Stand - near a mill-race and watch the “boys” racing down, each balanced on a - single careening log, and you will have a glimpse of the sort of men G. - Hyde Bigelow & Company were fighting. - </p> - <p> - Mr. Babcock passed the last straggling buildings of Wauchung's main street - and found himself in full view of the bridge, the river and the - lumber-yards. The sight did not please him, apparently, for he paused with - knit brows to take it in. Beyond, showing here and there, lay the harbour, - glistening in the cool light—and beyond the harbour the bald dunes - and the lake. - </p> - <p> - The sky was blue, frayed here and there into ends of white clouds—the - glorious northern sky, matched only in the air of Naples or Touraine. But - Mr. Babcock was not looking at the sky. His soul was tuned to lower things—to - lumber, for instance, heaps of it, piles of it, rows of it, stretched for - hundreds of yards along the river, and across the peninsula, and along the - edge of the harbour. The mills were silent; the watchmen were not to be - seen; the only sign of life was the smoke curling from the funnels of the - <i>Number One</i>, where Robbie MacGregor was dozing on the engine-room - bench and hourly growing fatter. Six million feet of lumber greeted the - eye of the man from Chicago, as he looked—and looked. It was new - lumber, bought by experts, every stick of it such as would command a good - price when the owners should throw it on the market, as they certainly - would sooner or later. He shook his head and hurried on. - </p> - <p> - He found Halloran at the office and shook hands cordially. Crosman heard - the name, looked blank, recollected himself, and slipped out. - </p> - <p> - “Well, you've got a great lot of lumber here, Mr. Halloran,” Babcock began - softly, glancing out the window. - </p> - <p> - “Yes—a good deal.” - </p> - <p> - “How much can you keep in the yards here?” - </p> - <p> - “We have about twenty-five million feet in now.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't say so! Your own cutting?” - </p> - <p> - “Only part of it.” - </p> - <p> - “You've been—er—buying in the market, eh?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, all we could get.” He could not resist adding, “It's been a good - time to buy.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, so it has, so it has. I suppose you're holding this lot for a better - price?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran nodded. His eyes were searching the face of his caller. Babcock - paused to gather his forces, then settled back in his chair. - </p> - <p> - “I feel like telling you, Mr. Halloran, that you've done a mighty neat - piece of work. To tell the truth, it's been a surprise to us to see how - well you've carried this business. Your fame now”—he leaned forward - and dropped his voice to a confidential pitch—“your fame now, - however, rests even more on the way you've stuck to your employer's - interests than on the cleverness of what you've done. There are clever men - enough, but down in Chicago we don't see any too many honest ones.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I suppose you don't.” - </p> - <p> - “This fight has been expensive, but it's taught us one lesson, I think. - When we organized the lumber producers we tried to get all the good firms - into it. We succeeded with every one but Higginson & Company. By the - facts of the case we were forced to antagonize you, and I'll tell you - right here we expected to beat you. But we haven't beaten you. You've - shown a vitality that was surprising. And since your owner, we understand, - has been dangerously ill for some months, we are forced to believe that - you, yourself, Mr. Halloran, are the real head of this business. Isn't - that so? Well, you needn't answer. I understand your modesty. But there - are the facts. Well, now, sir, here we are, after a hard fight, just where - we were when we started. I don't know but what you may be better off. - Anyhow, you're the one man that has kept us from doing what we want to do. - What we've learned in this experience is, that we can't afford to go on - fighting Mr. John Halloran. We need just such a man as you on our side. - Mr. Bigelow and I have talked this all over, and I think we have insight - enough to know that when a rising man, a really big man, comes along, it's - a heap sight better to get on his side. You can't stop a man like that—he's - bound to rise—and if you don't keep his good-will and confidence, - you lose. Now, we want your good-will and confidence, Mr. Halloran. I've - got some propositions to lay before—” - </p> - <p> - “One moment, Mr. Babcock. If you have come to propose that anybody but M. - L. Higginson & Company conduct this business, you'll be wasting your - time.” - </p> - <p> - Babcock looked thoughtful, then nimbly changed front. “We have no concern - in this or any business except our own. But we are interested in men. - There's no doubt about it, Mr. Halloran—I know how men feel all over - Michigan—there's no doubt about it, you're the coming man in the - lumber business, to-day. Now, good men, Mr. Halloran, command good - positions. Take this place you're in—it's a salaried position, isn't - it?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, now”—Mr. Babcock's voice had dropped almost to a whisper, but - his intensity, his determination to win, trembled in every note of it. He - was smiling. “Well, now, what's the use of this, Mr. Halloran; what future - have you here? Even if you succeed Mr. Higginson? You can never be more - than he is, if you stay here. But once put a man of your caliber in a - place that's big enough for him and he'll expand—he'll fill it—he'll - reach out and up. In ten years, perhaps, you'd be at the head of the - business. But you ought to be at the head <i>now</i>—then, in ten - years, you'd be in Chicago or New York, with your finger on the pulse of - the financial world. I'm here for a reason. We've started in to organize - the lumber business and nothing can stop us. It may take time; we know it - will take men. But we aren't bothering about the time; we're looking for - the men. That's our way. And you're the man we need to make it go; you're - the man that can do it—you have a genius for it. Now—one - moment—I told you I had some propositions to make to you, and I'm - ready to make them.” - </p> - <p> - He was playing the last card in the hand of Bigelow & Company, and - playing it beautifully. A few short weeks and the meeting would be upon - them—the meeting when explanations of the delay in completing the - organization would fall upon unsympathetic ears. He was thinking now, for - one moment, with his eyes half closed. - </p> - <p> - “You know, Mr. Halloran, that Mr. Bigelow is the owner of the Pewaukoe - Mills. It is a first-class plant in every way—and slightly larger - than this, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “A little, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, I could make you other propositions, but you know the lumber - business, and I suppose you'd rather stay in it until you've got your hand - worked in with something a little bigger. I offer you this: We'll put you - at the head of our Pewaukoe business, with entire authority, subject only - to consultation with the firm on matters of policy and development. We - want you to go in with the idea that your hands are free—that you - can stamp your own individuality on the business. Don't you see, Mr. - Halloran, it's that individuality, that business character, that we want - above all? We want the qualities that have given you your peculiar success - here. As to payment, that will be arranged easiest of all. You know best - what you ought to have. But I'll name a figure, merely by way of opening - the discussion——-” He smiled again. “Suppose I say we'll pay - you a thousand dollars a year more than you're getting here, whatever that - may be. If that doesn't seem fair, just say so. We want to enter these new - relations with the feeling of perfect satisfaction all around—we - can't afford to do it any other way. - </p> - <p> - “One moment————- Don't commit yourself hurriedly. - This is a matter for consideration. First of all, let me put that offer - down in writing over our signature—then we'll have something to work - from. Will you call your stenographer?” - </p> - <p> - “We have no stenographer here now. But let me say———” - </p> - <p> - “Well, I'll write it out—here, this letter-paper will do the - business.” - </p> - <p> - “Now, see here, we can't talk along this line. I haven't the slightest - intention of leaving Higginson & Company.” - </p> - <p> - “I know—I know——— Take plenty of time to think it - over. I'll go ahead and put this down in black and white———” - </p> - <p> - “No, Mr. Babcock. I won't consider it at all. I stay right here at this - desk.” - </p> - <p> - Babcock brought up his reserves. “You are inclined to think,” he said, - settling back again, “that your place is here with Mr. Higginson?” - </p> - <p> - “Decidedly.” - </p> - <p> - “I see. Perhaps we've been working a little at cross-purposes. I haven't - been talking with the idea of taking away Mr. Higginson's main support at - the time he needs it most. I'm afraid I haven't been looking at that side - of it quite enough. You see, Mr. Halloran, we're business men, we of G. H. - Bigelow & Company. When we see a big man in our line we want him; and - when we try to get him, I suppose we don't always consider the other - people who want him, too. We haven't time. But I'm glad you brought the - point up. Suppose we go at it from a new point of view. Now, I recognize - (and Mr. Bigelow would agree with me if he were here) that this very - attitude of yours—this standing by your employer when he's a sick - man—is the quality in you we like best. We've seen it before; we've - talked about it. If you should go back on Mr. Higginson now—even - though, of course, there's not the slightest legal hindrance to your - looking out for yourself—how could we know you wouldn't go back on - us some day? But you won't go back on him, you see, and that's how we know - more than ever that you're the man we're after. Now there's not the - slightest need of any immediate change. We could even date your salary - from this moment, or back to the beginning of this month, without - expecting you to walk right out here———” - </p> - <p> - “It's no use—I'm not going to leave.” - </p> - <p> - “No; I'm not suggesting such a thing. I was going to say that—that - we're looking ahead. Let me see—you're about thirty, perhaps. Why, - man, you haven't begun yet. But if you stay here, and if Mr. Higginson - should die within these next few years without taking you into the firm, - you'd have nothing whatever to show for your work. Now, one place is as - good as another for such a man as you. All you need is to get a footing—but - that takes capital. My suggestion would be that you stay right here and - buy into the business—get it into your own hands. Mr. Higginson, - knowing you as he does, would be only too glad to have it go to you. We - can help you with that. Your credit is A-1 with us. We're so sure you're - going to see some day the advantages of combination and cooperation in - this business that we'll write you a check any day and no questions asked. - It———” - </p> - <p> - “Don't you think,” said Halloran, speaking slowly, with an edge on his - voice, “don't you think you've said about enough?” - </p> - <p> - Babcock flushed. “What do you mean by that?” - </p> - <p> - “I mean, if your time's worth anything to you you're losing money here.” - </p> - <p> - “Then you are not interested———” - </p> - <p> - “Not a bit.” - </p> - <p> - The junior partner of Bigelow & Company, still flushing, rose. “I've - made you a square offer———” - </p> - <p> - “And I've refused it.” - </p> - <p> - Babcock stood looking down at Halloran. His eyes were growing smaller; his - fingers were restless. For a moment he seemed not to grasp the fact that - he had failed. Halloran picked up a letter, then lowered it, and looked up - inquiringly. - </p> - <p> - “Now suppose we leave it this way for the present, Mr. Halloran.” He was - rallying. “You'd better just think over what I've said. The main thing is - to pave the way toward an agreement, and I think we've done that. I'm glad - to have had this talk with you. Don't hurry about deciding. Weigh it - carefully. Good-by—glad to have seen you.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran gave him a nod and he was gone. - </p> - <p> - It was to be a day rather more than usually eventful. Before he left the - office, in the afternoon, Crosman drew him aside. - </p> - <p> - “Would you———?” he began. - </p> - <p> - “Well?” - </p> - <p> - “Will you be home to-night—about eight?” - </p> - <p> - “I think so. Why, anything special?” - </p> - <p> - “N—no. You'll be there sure?” - </p> - <p> - “Sure.” - </p> - <p> - Promptly at eight the doorbell rang and Halloran was called down to the - parlour. Entering, he found Crosman, grinning feverishly; and over in the - corner, with her back turned, looking at a picture, was Mamie. He looked - from one to the other until Mamie turned around and disclosed a very red - face. Still no one spoke. The two now gazed appealingly at each other, and - finally it was Mamie who broke the silence with a preliminary giggle. - </p> - <p> - “I guess—I guess you can congratulate us, Mr. Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - Coming so suddenly, even this bold statement did not sink at once into - Halloran's consciousness. But at last, after a painful pause, he - recollected himself and shook hands cordially. And then the story had to - be told in detail. It was all a secret, for Mrs. Higginson had not yet - learned to understand Harry as she would when she came to know him as one - of the family. During the worst of her father's illness Mamie would not - consent, but now that the crisis was turned she had—“Well, she had - supposed she might as well.” - </p> - <p> - “We wanted you to know it,” she said. “And it's going to be a secret - between just you and us. We thought maybe—you—maybe you'd be - glad, too.” - </p> - <p> - But for some reason it did not have that effect; for an hour later, when - Halloran was striding up the beach to the north, heedless of the waves - that ran up about his feet, of the west wind that slapped his face and - tugged at his coat, he wore a far from glad expression. And not until he - had fallen into step with the night patrol from the life-saving station, - and had swapped yams of the old Inspector and the Beebe-McClellan boat and - the capsize-drill records, and had learned precisely why the Wauchung - Station was the most abused and discriminated against in the whole U. S. - L. S. S., did he seem a little more composed. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER IV—Twelve, Midnight - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he deep-toned bell - in the town hall was striking twelve. It was a still, overcast night, with - a mild breeze blowing up from the head of Lake Michigan. Three men stood - at the gate of the yards talking in low tones, somewhat oppressed, - perhaps, by the silence. Before them, a little way, was the white circle - thrown by the electric light over the bridge; behind were the great dim - piles of lumber with the narrow alleys between, now black as the sky, and - carpeted as they were with chips and shavings, as silent beneath the foot - as velvet. The only noise came, in the intervals between words, from the - two steamers that lay breathing softly alongside the wharf. - </p> - <p> - “What you doin' on watch, Du Bois? Changed your job?” - </p> - <p> - “No; Mr. Halloran asked me to go on to-night. He says it's time we had - some good men down here.” - </p> - <p> - “Aw, go on!” - </p> - <p> - “Say, Runyon, who's that on the bridge?” - </p> - <p> - All three watched a moment. - </p> - <p> - “Dunno 'im. Throw your lantern on 'im when he goes by.” - </p> - <p> - But the fellow turned in at the gate. - </p> - <p> - “Who's this?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm George Bigelow. Mr. Halloran said I could go on watch at twelve.” - </p> - <p> - “Bigelow ain't a very safe name around here, sonny. How about it, Du - Bois?” - </p> - <p> - “It's all right, I guess. He's the new lumber-checker.” They all laughed. - “You understand, don't you, boy, that if a man's caught sleeping or off - his post he gets shot?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—why———” - </p> - <p> - “Don't let 'im scare you, sonny. He's the lazy beggar 'imself. Say, Du - Bois, I thought I saw a tramp hanging around about an hour ago. If you - want to look through the yards once more with me I'll stay for it.” - </p> - <p> - “Take the boy. It'll learn him the ropes. Run along, boy.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night, there.” - </p> - <p> - “Good-night, Runyon. I won't wait.” - </p> - <p> - They separated, one man hurrying off for home and a bed, Du Bois lingering - at the gate for a look up and down the line of the fence; Runyon and - George, their lanterns darkened, slipping stealthily away into the shadow. - </p> - <p> - “I seen somethin' over there by the mill,” said Runyon, in a subdued - voice, “like it was a tramp that had dumb the fence by the bridge and was - sneakin' along the bank. Here, now, hold on a minute,”—he caught the - boy's arm—“I was a-standin' right here. Now look down between them - piles—past the mill. See that little strip o' the river where the - bridge light's a-shinin'? It looked to me like somethin' black went acrost - it.” - </p> - <p> - They went on, giving a quarter of an hour to winding through the alleys, - throwing a light into every dark corner. “A feller can't be expected to - see everything—not in yards as big as these here. We needn't go out - around the P'int. I guess there ain't nothin'. Here's Du Bois a-waitin' by - the <i>Number One</i>. I'll leave you with him. You got a whistle, ain't - you?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes; Mr. Halloran gave me one.” - </p> - <p> - “You know about it? If you blow, it means fire. So don't get gay with it.” - </p> - <p> - “Hallo, there,” said Du Bois, as they joined him on the wharf in the - little patch of light that fell from the steamer's engine-room. “You're - purty poor. Where's your tramp?” - </p> - <p> - “He wasn't to home. We 'lowed we'd call again. So long.” - </p> - <p> - “So long, there.” - </p> - <p> - The engine-room was snug and comfortable, a capital headquarters for - patrol duty. So the old Inspector took immediate precedence of his - associate. “Now, young man, we'll have to break you in first thing. You - better go over and patrol the fence f'r'n hour. Then you come back here - and report. Be kind o' cautiouslike about your whistle.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know———” - </p> - <p> - “No, I guess you don't—not such a dam sight. What's the matter? What - you waitin' f'r?” - </p> - <p> - “Why—when we was going around the yards, he said he guessed we - wouldn't go out as fur's the Point—and I thought mebbe I'd go now, - jes so's to be sure.” - </p> - <p> - “So you've took to thinkin', eh? I s'pose you was a-thinkin' you'd send me - over to the fence.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I didn't mean to send you, but I thought mebbe———” - </p> - <p> - “Git along with you. You talk too much. You make me sick.” And the - Inspector, with a chuckle, made slowly toward the gate, leaving the boy to - his own resources. - </p> - <p> - George walked to the end of the wharf and stood a moment, debating whether - to keep on along the bank or to turn in among the lumber-piles. He decided - on the latter course and crowded through, with the help of his lantern, by - crawling over and under the projecting ends of planks between two huge - piles. This brought him into an alley that led, with one turn, to the - narrow space of open ground at the end of the peninsula. He closed his - lantern and felt his way along. He had nearly reached the turn, he - thought, when it was suddenly revealed to him by a light flickering on the - lumber. He stopped short and held his breath. The light was growing - rapidly. He rushed forward around the turn—and again he stopped. A - blaze that had evidently started at the base of a pile of inch stuff was - now curling upward, was already half way up to the top; and it crackled - ominously as it wreathed around the thin, resinous boards. Standing a - little way off at the edge of the bank, looking stupidly at the fire, was - the worst specimen from the land of trampdom George had ever seen. His - clothing hung about him in rags, his hair and beard were grizzled and - matted, his face was red; and his whole body seemed to tremble as if from - a nervous affection. He looked up frantically, called out something in a - husky voice and held up a blackened clay pipe, then, on an impulse, he - dropped the pipe, turned and dove out into the river. There was a splash, - the firelight glistened for an instant on the spray, and he had - disappeared. - </p> - <p> - George remembered his whistle and blew it sharply half a dozen times His - first thought was to turn back to the steamer, and he had taken a few - steps when a shout told him that his signal was heard, that probably the - fire could be seen now, for it was already licking at the topmost boards; - and so he threw his lantern away and took a running dive off the bank. - </p> - <p> - Du Bois, walking slowly, had nearly reached the gate when he heard - George's whistle. “The boy's crazy,” he muttered. “Wonder they wouldn't - give us unweaned infants f'r patrol.” He looked down the centre roadway, - but could see no light. However, his duty was obvious, and he turned and - ran back to the wharf, growling as he went. The men were aroused on both - steamers. As he passed the <i>Number Two</i> he saw the hands dragging out - a coil of hose with the nozzle ready attached. On the upper deck of the <i>Number - One</i> Captain Craig, with a pair of trousers hastily drawn on and his - nightgown partly tucked in at the waist, was leaning on the rail and - peering out over the yards. The deckhouse door was open, throwing the - light on him. In the fainter light, on the main deck, MacGregor was - hanging out. - </p> - <p> - “How is it, Cap'n?” he was calling. - </p> - <p> - The Captain made a sign of impatience, straightened up and shaded his eyes - with one hand to shut off the light from the steamer; then gave a shout, - and pointing toward the end of the peninsula, he plunged into the - wheel-house and pulled the whistle-cord. MacGregor disappeared in the - engine-room. - </p> - <p> - At the moment Du Bois was midway between the two steamers running along - the wharf. He stopped now and retraced a few steps. “Hi, there!” he called - to the men who were at work on the <i>Number Two</i>, “uncouple that hose - and bring 'er up to the <i>Number One</i>.” - </p> - <p> - “What for?” asked some one. - </p> - <p> - “What for? You—you——— Hi, Cap'n Craig! I'm - a-bringin' up the Number Two's line—— Will you have yours - uncoupled for us? Now, you louts, gimme a hold o' the line. All together, - now! <i>Heave</i> f'r it! Over the rail with 'er! Lay hold now, lively! - Did you think you was a-sprinklin' the front yard <i>an</i> the tulip-bed? - Ryan, if you fall over them feet of yourn again I'll be darned if I don't - soak you. All together, now!— right in the solar plexus, b' th' - divvel. Now <i>heave!</i> HEAVE! What's the trouble, there. Damn that - Ryan! Say, you've got more feet to the square inch than any man a-walkin'. - Here she is, Cap'n. Take off that nozzle, one o' you, while I couple 'er. - Hold on, Robbie, we'll holler when we want water. Jest heave that Ryan - overboard, a couple o' you. All right, Cap'n. Will we take the nozzle? - Here we go, now! Run 'er out! Quick, there———You're the - craziest lot o' hare-lipped bungholes I ever see!” - </p> - <p> - They were stretching out the hose to its fullest extent, but they were - still some distance from the fire that now was roaring and crackling - before them. Already they could hear the wind, swelling from a night - breeze; it was whipping the flames into madness. - </p> - <p> - “Hi! Robbie! Let 'er go! Pass the word there Let 'er go!” - </p> - <p> - The men shouted; MacGregor responded; the flat line of hose swelled and - writhed as the water was forced through. “Hold hard, Cap'n!” The nozzle - was almost wrenched from their hands; the stream rushed out and curved - high over the lumber. - </p> - <p> - “Are we a-gettin' at it?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't think so. I can't see. Here, work out into the roadway.” - </p> - <p> - “Lord, no, we ain't reachin' 'er by three rods. An' she's a-burnin' to - beat the yellow devils. What's the matter with the boys? Damn it, they - must think we're a-doin' it f'r fun! This ain't no Fourth o' July - pyrotechnics.” - </p> - <p> - “They'll be here. It's not much more'n a minute since George signaled.” - </p> - <p> - “There's some more of the boys, I think.” - </p> - <p> - “I can't see much—this light's in my eyes. It's no use trying to - reach it. Here, let's wet down these here piles. That's good. Now hold her - there.” - </p> - <p> - “Gettin' pretty hot here, Cap'n.” - </p> - <p> - “Can't help that. It'll be hotter before we get through. Have an eye out - to see that we don't get cut off behind. Here come the buckets.” - </p> - <p> - “Here you are, boys—this way! How many is they of you?” - </p> - <p> - “I dunno—about a dozen, I guess. The boys is comin' right in.” - </p> - <p> - “Form a line here along the road. If you keep your clothes wet there's no - danger, I guess. Stir along, now. Mr. Halloran come?” - </p> - <p> - “Not yet. Mr. Crosman's couplin' up the yard hose an' he'll be along - here'n a minute.” - </p> - <p> - The fire was giving rise to the wind; the wind was lashing the fire. The - crackling was loud now; the roar made it hard to talk. As they worked and - watched a gust of wind came sweeping across the harbour, and catching up - the top row of boards from an exposed pile, it tossed them, burning, high - in the air. The sparks were flying high, coursing the length of the yards, - some falling far beyond. Men were pouring into the yards. Somewhere across - the river the town fire-engine was clanging out toward the bridge. - </p> - <p> - A man, hatless, in a purple sweater, carrying a tin pail in each hand, - came running through the gate and down the central roadway. Some one - shouted “Here he comes!” and here and there other men, working with hose - or bucket, heard the shout and caught it up for sheer excitement, heedless - of the cause. - </p> - <p> - “What's that?” said Du Bois. “It's all clear behind, ain't it? We ain't - cut off?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no; we aren't cut off.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, Cap'n, I can't stand this; let's drop back a step or so. Lord knows - we ain't doin' much good here. See her burn! I guess it's all day with - Higginson & Company. Here come the fire boys—I see a helmet back - there————No, they've quit. They're a-runnin' back, - an' draggin' their hose with 'em. Who's this here a-comin' f'r us?” - </p> - <p> - “I don't know; I can't see.” - </p> - <p> - “It's himself—it's Mr. Halloran. Hi! What's that?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0267.jpg" alt="0267 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0267.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Back with you, quick!” Halloran was shouting. “Never mind the hose. Let - it go. You'll have to run for it. One's enough here.” - </p> - <p> - “Good Lord, he's goin' to try the dynamite. Hold on, there, Mr. Halloran! - You'll never make it; the fire's too close.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Get back there!</i> What do you mean by talking back to me?” - Halloran's eyes were blazing. “Get back or I'll throw you back Drop that - hose, Cap'n. Don't say a word!” - </p> - <p> - “All right, Cap'n. I guess we can get the hose back with us. Heave, now!” - </p> - <p> - Halloran jerked it away from them, took the Captain by the shoulders and - spun him around. “I'll give you three seconds to get to the gate. Now <i>get!</i> - And none of your talk!” - </p> - <p> - They ran, without a word. - </p> - <p> - The fire had eaten its way almost to the widening of the peninsula, almost - to the last point where the dynamite could be expected to stop it. A - narrow strip could be blasted out, but once the flames had swept on into - the main yards nothing could check them. The steamers were far enough - away, Halloran thought, to be safe; and he had warned all the men back. - They stood now at the gate, waiting. The watchmen and deckhands were - there, and the twenty- or thirty amateur and the dozen professional - fire-fighters. Crosman came hurrying over from the mill-plug and addressed - himself to the Wauchung chief. - </p> - <p> - “Have your boys run the hose right down the minute you hear the second - explosion.” - </p> - <p> - “There'll be only two?” - </p> - <p> - “Only two. I've got my hose ready to take down the other road. The rest of - you boys be ready with your buckets, and when the Chief here gives the - word you run for it, every one of you. Understand?” Then he hurried back - to his station. - </p> - <p> - “Here he comes,” said a Wauchung fireman. - </p> - <p> - Down the narrow roadway they could see a black figure running. Nearer he - came, his shadow leaping grotesquely before. And just as he reached them - and put out his hand to check his progress, the whole south end of the - yards seemed to rise high in the air—once, and then again. - </p> - <p> - “Come on, boys,” called Halloran, turning before he had fairly caught his - breath. “Cap'n, go to the steamer and see that she's all right. This way, - boys!” Eager hands laid hold of the hose and ran forward with it. Over by - the mills they could hear Crosman urging his men on. And ahead of all was - the bucket brigade. - </p> - <p> - The explosion had cleared a path from bank to bank. Many of the blazing - timbers had fallen into the yards, but the buckets and Crosman's hose were - turned on these, while the firemen gave their attention to the wide heap - of débris that seemed on the point of blazing up again. A third line of - hose was soon brought up, and within a quarter of an hour the Chief had - the satisfaction of saying to Halloran, “We've got her in hand now.” An - hour more and the fire was over, excepting the smouldering piles, on which - streams of water would be kept for the rest of the night. Halloran - assigned a few men to stay on watch with the firemen and, leaving the - responsibility in the hands of the Chief, he went over to the <i>Number - One</i>. Craig was on the wharf. - </p> - <p> - “Any harm done, Cap'n?” - </p> - <p> - “No—not to speak of. About all the glass is broken, and some sparks - came aboard, but we put them out easy enough.” - </p> - <p> - “Say, Cap'n, I don't know just what I said to you to-night———” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right, Mr. Halloran—don't you speak of it. You were - tending to your business, that was all. You haven't seen anything of - George, have you?” - </p> - <p> - “George? No. Isn't he here?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he ain't. He was out at the Point. He gave us the signal, but he - didn't come back.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, here, we'll look into this. Du Bois, there, did you see George - after he gave the alarm?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I ain't seen 'im since he went out to the P'int. What's the matter, - ain't he around?” - </p> - <p> - “No, he hasn't been seen. Look him up, will you? Ask the boys, and look - around the yards a bit.” - </p> - <p> - “Here he is now.” - </p> - <p> - Craig and the Manager turned and saw, sure enough, George, leading, with - the assistance of a local policeman, a villainous-looking tramp. George - himself looked almost as disreputable as the tramp, and the policeman had - evidently not been treading paths of ease. - </p> - <p> - “Here's the man that done it, Mr. Halloran,” said George excitedly. “The - copper said he didn't mind bringing him here so's you could see him before - he gets run in. He won't say nothing, though.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran soon drew out George's story, but the tramp was silent, beyond - claiming stoutly that he had been smoking and had fallen asleep, only to - awake and find the flames starting up. There was nothing to do but to turn - him over to the law for the present. And at last, as the hour crept on - toward two o'clock in the morning, Halloran and Crosman, after sending a - reassuring message to the Higginsons, left the yards together for home and - bed. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER V—The Meeting - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>ne afternoon young - Corrigan appeared at the office. “I wish you would repeat,” he said, when - the civilities had been exchanged, “what you said to me a little while - back.” - </p> - <p> - “About Mr. Bigelow?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes. Please tell me just what you think, and why you think so. You - understand that I couldn't go on with this without pretty good authority - behind me.” - </p> - <p> - “I have no documentary proof, if that's what you mean. But to my notion, - that isn't necessary.” And Halloran simply repeated his former statements. - </p> - <p> - “Tell me again about this Le Duc—what is his relationship to Mr. - Bigelow?” - </p> - <p> - “I may as well give you the whole story, Mr. Corrigan. The daughter of our - Captain Craig went to Chicago some twenty years ago as Bigelow's private - secretary. They were married and had two children, and then they were - divorced. The courts allowed Mrs. Bigelow a decent income by way of - alimony, most of which was never paid, and in some letters Bigelow - admitted that it was unpaid. A little while ago, Le Duc, a fellow I had - known in college, who had drifted on the stage and was rather up against - it, married the daughter, Elizabeth Bigelow. They were all poor—Mrs. - Bigelow (or Mrs. Craig, as she is now known) was really in want—and - finally Le Duc got the letters from her and went out one evening to - Evanston to demand money from Bigelow. Instead of giving it to him, - Bigelow bought him off by offering him a position as the nominal head of - the corner he was contemplating on the Board. Le Duc accepted, kept the - letters, and cast off Mrs. Craig, who is now living here in Wauchung with - her father. Just before I saw you he told me himself that Bigelow was the - man behind him in his operations. That's the story.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—well,” observed Corrigan, with a distressed expression. - </p> - <p> - “And in telling it to you, I'm assuming that you don't want a Board of - Trade plunger at the head of your combination.” - </p> - <p> - “No, no, of course we don't. Now, Mr. Halloran, what is it exactly that - you have to suggest?” - </p> - <p> - “Say to Mr. Bigelow at your meeting that you have been told that he is - behind the corner and request an explanation.” - </p> - <p> - “Yes?” - </p> - <p> - “If he can explain, well and good. You can refer the whole matter to me. - But if he can't—there you are.” - </p> - <p> - Corrigan pondered. “That seems fair. I'll talk it over with my father. I'm - much obliged to you, anyhow.” - </p> - <p> - “Not at all.” - </p> - <p> - A reaction had followed the fire and the long strain leading up to it. - They all felt it. Crosman, wearied by the comparative idleness that was - forced upon him, was irritable and inclined to chafe against the steady - disapproval of Mrs. Higginson. Halloran was plunged in gloom most of the - time. And to add to the depression Captain Craig decided to give up his - post. - </p> - <p> - “You see, Mr. Halloran,” he said, in speaking of it, “you maybe wouldn't - think to look at me that I'm a great-grandfather, but I've known it by my - feelings since the fire. I didn't stand it very well—the running and - the wet and all; and my eyes have been bothering me, too. Jennie and me, - we've been talking it over, and she thinks I ought to just quit now, and - look after the garden, and take it kind of easy. There's no room for us - old fellows now, anyhow. A man had better make up his mind to it before he - gets crowded out. I've saved a little something—enough to live on, - and I've got my place, and I guess that's enough for anybody.” - </p> - <p> - “You're mistaken, Captain. There's not a better man on the Lakes, and I'm - glad to tell you so. The <i>Number One</i> is yours as long as you'll keep - her.” - </p> - <p> - There were tears in the Captain's eyes. “That's all right—I'm - obliged to you. But I guess it's time to quit now while we're shut down - and you have a good chance to look around for somebody else. There's only - one thing that's been bothering me. Do you think you're going to have a - place for George?” - </p> - <p> - “I'm sure of it. He's going to make a good man before he gets through with - it.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad you think so. I must tell Jennie—it'll please her. And say—here's - a little something—George says he's owed you three-fifty for a long - while. He's managed to save it up now, and he wanted me to hand it to - you.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran had to think. “Oh, that—that's nothing—I couldn't - take it.” - </p> - <p> - “If you don't mind—I think you'd better. And I—I want to say, - Mr. Halloran, before I quit you, that it's been a great thing for Mr. - Higginson to have you here. I guess there ain't no doubt you've saved his - business for him.” - </p> - <p> - This brought the gloom back to the Manager's face. He shook his head. - </p> - <p> - “That's all right now—I've watched the business some. It's your - nerve and grit——” - </p> - <p> - “Captain,” Halloran broke in bitterly, “I———” - </p> - <p> - “I guess I know what you mean. You've been carrying a load that would have - broke most men, and now you're sort of unstrung.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran shook his head again. “Damn the load.” He looked around the - office. Crosman was out; the door was shut. “Captain, I've lost the girl I - want to marry, for want of nerve.” - </p> - <p> - “Are you sure?” - </p> - <p> - He nodded. - </p> - <p> - “Is she married already?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no; she's gone away.” - </p> - <p> - “Where?” - </p> - <p> - “Down East. She didn't leave word.” - </p> - <p> - “And she ain't married anybody else? Then she ain't lost. Why don't you go - after her?” - </p> - <p> - “I know. I've thought of that.” - </p> - <p> - “Thinking 'll never do it. You better go.” Halloran looked up and caught - the Captain's eye. It was beaming with good-will, and it opened to him a - glimpse of a new world. “I believe I will,” he said, holding his breath. - </p> - <p> - “You can get the eleven o'clock on the Père Marquette and connect with the - Central Limited to-night at Detroit. I'll take care of the fire department - while you're gone.” - </p> - <p> - “Will you?” He caught at the Captain's hand. - </p> - <p> - “Sure. You'd better move right along———Lord, yes, - there's only twenty-five minutes, and it'll take you most of that to get - home and pack. I'll call up the livery and have a carriage go right up - after you.” - </p> - <p> - “Good. Tell Crosman I've been called East.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll see to everything. Good-by. And say, don't hurry back. Wire your - address, and if we need you we'll let you know. Good-by. Good luck.” - </p> - <p> - “Thanks. Good-by.” He was gone with a rush, leaving his desk open behind - him. - </p> - <p> - It so chanced that on this morning when Halloran went plunging off to seek - his fortune, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow, in an equally uncertain frame of mind, - was fronting <i>his</i>. Matters were going awry down in Chicago. The - Board of Trade deal, thanks to the elation and consequent intermeddling of - the paid figurehead, was wobbling dangerously. And at ten o'clock, while - Le Duc was hearing sharp, straight-out words in the mahogany office, the - heads of nearly a score of Michigan lumber firms were gathering in the - city office of the Corrigans, not far away. Hard-headed old fellows they - were, most of them—men with slouch hats and unkempt beards, men who - wore high boots beneath their bagging trousers, and swore as they talked - and breathed. And there they waited for Bigelow, to ask him where their - money had gone and how he proposed to get it back. At length he came. - </p> - <p> - “Good-morning, gentlemen,” he observed, as he laid aside his coat and - stick and his silk hat. - </p> - <p> - “Good-morning,” came from Corrigan, and “How are you?” from one or two - others. One graybeard murmured to a neighbour that he wished he'd a known - in the first place that Bigelow wore a silk hat. “You can't trust a dude,” - he muttered. - </p> - <p> - “Well, gentlemen,” the managing director began, drawing his report from - his pocket, “I suppose a statement of what we have accomplished will——” - </p> - <p> - But young Corrigan couldn't wait. “Excuse me, Mr. Bigelow—and - gentlemen. I think we all know just about where we stand in this business. - And———” - </p> - <p> - “One moment, Mr. Corrigan. It is usual———” - </p> - <p> - “What I have to say is not usual, Mr. Bigelow. It's so important that it - takes precedence, to my notion. It concerns our existence as a working - body and our relations with you, sir. And this meeting can't go forward - until it has been laid before you, and you've had the chance to convince - us that what has been reported to me is untrue—that it is, as we - should hope, a malicious lie. Before we think of the question of going - forward or backward as a combination we must settle the question of our - mutual confidence as individuals. A shadow has been cast upon this - confidence; and you know, every man of you—” the graybeards, some - startled, others condescending, looked at him; Bigelow looked at him, too—“You - know that our whole structure must rest on complete confidence in the men - we choose to direct our affairs. If this is removed, we can't do business - a day.” - </p> - <p> - “I should suggest, Mr. Corrigan, that what you have to say had better come - in the discussion that will follow the reading of the report. It is the - object of this report to answer in advance all inquiries, to tell every - fact about our work.” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better wait, Harry,” observed a man in boots. “Let him read it.” - </p> - <p> - “If this were a fact of our work it could wait, sir; but it ain't.” - Corrigan was warming up. “It concerns you, personally, Mr. Bigelow. We - have accepted your guidance so far because we believed you to be a certain - kind of a man, and to stand for certain principles in business. We want to - go on believing this, and we don't want to wait a minute, now that we're - all together here. I've been told that you're the real operator of the big - corner on the Board, that your money is in it, and that the man named Le - Duc has been put up so that your name wouldn't be known. Is that so?” - </p> - <p> - Every face in the room changed expression. The blood rushed into - Bigelow's. - </p> - <p> - “If you've been taking our time to make wild charges against my character———” - </p> - <p> - “You aren't answering,” shouted Corrigan. “Tell me that. That's what I - ask.” - </p> - <p> - “You'd better cool down a bit, Harry.” - </p> - <p> - “No, Mr. Anderson, I won't cool down.” - </p> - <p> - “See here,” said Bigelow, his voice rising with the others. “This has - nothing whatever to do with this meeting.” - </p> - <p> - Corrigan leaned over the table and looked him keenly in the eyes. “If you - mean to withdraw here and now, Mr. Bigelow, to dissolve this agreement, - then I'm with you; it has nothing to do with it. But if you mean to go on - as our managing director, then you've got to answer that question.” - </p> - <p> - The other men looked at one another. “I guess that's fair, Mr. Bigelow,” - observed the man in boots. “So long as Harry's sprung this on us we - wouldn't any of us feel quite easy about it.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, sir, is it true?” asked Corrigan. - </p> - <p> - “I claim that this is impertinent.” - </p> - <p> - “Is it true?” - </p> - <p> - “I decline to answer. My private investments are simply none of your - business.” - </p> - <p> - Corrigan sank back in his chair and drew a long breath. “There,” he said, - “that's all I wanted to know. I think you'll agree with me, gentlemen, - that we can't keep up these relations any longer. Suppose we hear the - report now.” - </p> - <p> - It was half-past two when the door was opened and a score of heated, - hungry men came out for lunch. Bigelow had recovered and made a strong - fight, but the sentiment was overwhelmingly against him. The managership - had been offered to Corrigan; he had declined and stood out for - dissolution on the ground that during the dozen or fifteen years that - remained before the timber should be all cut out there was room for them - all without any damaging competition. And so before they broke up the - lumber agreement was abrogated. And in a few days, as soon as matters - could be settled, the lumber world would know it. - </p> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>astward sped - Halloran, on to the Hudson, on up the crooked mountain railroad to the - junction village, on up the wagon road behind a team of crawling white - horses; reaching at last the house perched on the mountainside, lost in - billows of autumn flame. Yes, Miss Davies was still there. The wife of the - proprietor had seen her shortly before, walking up the trail behind the - house. - </p> - <p> - He found her standing in a tangle of late blackberries, hatless, her - sleeves rolled to the elbow, reaching up to break off a crimson maple - branch. She heard him crashing through brake and bramble, and turned. He - did not see that she changed colour, she was so browned by the mountain - sun—but she was startled. She did not move, but stood, holding the - branch and looking at him without a word. - </p> - <p> - “How do you do?” he said, shaking hands. “Hardly expected to see me, did - you?” - </p> - <p> - “No. This is a surprise. When did you get here?” - </p> - <p> - “Just now.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, you're just in time to walk back with me.” - </p> - <p> - He was disappointed. “Don't go right down. I came because they told me you - were here, and now it would be too bad not to see you.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm going to play tennis, and there's only an hour before dark. Here, you - may carry these branches. Aren't they beautiful? You walk ahead so I can - look at them.” - </p> - <p> - There was no other way; the trail was narrow, and with the great bundle of - branches in his arms he had all he could do to pick his way down the rocky - path. Near the house they were met by a big young man in flannels, - carrying tennis rackets. He looked curiously at Halloran, and passing him, - walked with Miss Davies. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Halloran,” she said, “Mr. Green.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Green bowed and said, “How are you?” with an eastern drawl. And that - was the last Halloran saw of her until supper time. He might have sat on - the veranda and watched the game, but he did not; instead, he walked down - to the road, and in the same plunging mood that had brought him East he - went swinging up the valley. The bold splashes of crimson and yellow and - golden brown on the long slopes, brought sharply out by the somber pines; - the fringe of Queen Anne's lace along the road, and the masses of - goldenrod and mint; the hum of millions of bees; the tumbling brook a rod - away, with its pebbly ripples and dark pools; these he hardly saw. Even - the Wittenberg, standing rugged against the sky, its crown of balsams now - a trembling, luminous purple under the shafts of the setting sun, could - not move him. - </p> - <p> - After supper, by some managing, he caught her alone in the hall. “Come,” - he said, “let's go outside.” - </p> - <p> - She hesitated, but yielded. “I can't stay out but a minute. It's too - cold.” - </p> - <p> - “Get a wrap or something. If you bundle up we could sit awhile. It's - stuffy in there.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, I can't. We're going to play euchre to-night.” - </p> - <p> - “We——” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, everybody. That means you, too, of course. Come in and let me - introduce you. The people are jolly, most of them. There are always some - queer ones, you know, at a place like this.” - </p> - <p> - “But, Margaret, I didn't come to play euchre. I don't want to know these - people. Can't you see? I came on purpose to see you, and to talk to you. - Get your things and take a walk with me. Never mind the euchre.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no, I couldn't do that. The people—it wouldn't look right.” - </p> - <p> - “What do we care for them?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I mustn't. We had really better go in.” And in she went, with - Halloran, crestfallen, following. - </p> - <p> - After an insufferable evening he tried again to see her, and again it was - accomplished only by maneuvering. - </p> - <p> - “Margaret,” he said, when he had drawn her into the corner of the emptying - room, “tell me what it means. What's the matter?” - </p> - <p> - She looked at him and slowly shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied; - “nothing at all.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you get my letters?” - </p> - <p> - She nodded. - </p> - <p> - “I didn't know—you didn't answer. Why didn't you write, Margaret?” - </p> - <p> - No answer. - </p> - <p> - “Won't you tell me? I've come a long way to ask you.” - </p> - <p> - “I—why, I just couldn't.” - </p> - <p> - “Didn't you have anything to say to me?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I don't believe I did.” - </p> - <p> - “And have you nothing to say to me now?” - </p> - <p> - A long, long silence. Then this from Miss Davies: - </p> - <p> - “Oh, please don't now. It's very late—and I'm tired.” - </p> - <p> - “But when am I to see you?” he broke out impatiently. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, there will be plenty of time. But not to-night—please. You - aren't going away before morning.” - </p> - <p> - “I am here only for a day or so. I—I am down East on—on - business.” He had quailed again. “I just stopped off here.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, you just happened to come?” - </p> - <p> - “No, I meant to come—I had to, I couldn't stay away. It's a long - time since I've seen you, Margaret. - </p> - <p> - “I know. You called in Evanston, didn't you? Mrs. Bigelow wrote me that - you had taken George. How is he doing?” - </p> - <p> - “Well. But when can I talk with you—alone somewhere? I can't say - anything when you seem so hurried.” - </p> - <p> - “Why—to-morrow, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - “To-morrow morning?” - </p> - <p> - “No, not the morning. I'm going to climb the Terrace.” - </p> - <p> - “Why not drop that and come with me?” - </p> - <p> - “I can't. I promised Mr. Green. He's getting up a party. You—you - might come along.” He shook his head. There was another pause. “Margaret,” - he said then, “who is Mr. Green?” - </p> - <p> - “He's a Boston man.” - </p> - <p> - “Is he—is he——?” - </p> - <p> - Some one was looking for Miss Davies. “She's in the card-room, I think,” - said a voice. - </p> - <p> - “Here I am. I'll be there directly.” - </p> - <p> - “Wait, Margaret. Do you plan to get back for lunch?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—I don't think we're going to take any with us.” - </p> - <p> - “Then I'll order a carriage for two o'clock, and we'll drive.” - </p> - <p> - “Well——” - </p> - <p> - “Of course”—and every word he uttered sounded like “Mr. Green—Mr. - Green”—“of course, if you'd rather not———” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no—thank you very much. I'd enjoy going. At two, did you say?” - </p> - <p> - She was gone; and Halloran went outside and paced the veranda, alone with - a cigar. His regular footfall sounded for a long time—during two - cigars, in fact; and the thoughts he finally carried to bed with him were - not the sort to put him into a condition for the diplomacy the morrow was - to demand. In the morning, long before daylight he was up and dressed. He - breakfasted late to avoid the climbing party, and from his window he - watched them start up the road. He saw Green take Margaret's jacket and - tie the sleeves through his belt. An annoying fellow he was with his easy - manners, his faultless clothes, his calm reserve. He grated on Halloran; - he reminded him of his own blunt western way; he forced him to recall - again those rough antecedents of his. And that Halloran was keen enough to - recognize the difference, indefinable as it seemed, aggravated matters. - For an hour or so he sat in the library and tried to read, but failed. He - thought a little fresh air might fix him up, and he went out for a - six-mile tramp up the Panther Kill, through the ravine where the rock - walls shine with moisture, and the trout lie deep in the pools below the - falls, and the trees mat closely to shut out the day; but this was worse - than the book. He came back over a spur of the Panther Mountain and here - he had his first occupation of the day, scrambling up the ledges, fighting - through the brambles, placing his feet carefully on the treacherous - moss-covered rocks; here drawing himself by a finger grip up a sheer - precipice, there elbowing up a chimney. - </p> - <p> - He reached the top of the ridge and plunged down through the forest. He - saw a clearing ahead, and, pushing on, found the whole valley spread out - below, the stream splashing and glittering in the sun, the white road - winding out here and there from the shelter of the trees, and all the - tumbling mountain land blazing with colour. To the south towered the - Wittenberg, to the north lay the peaceful slopes of North Dome and Mount - Sheridan. He was knee-deep in fragrant mint, and surrounded by droning - bees. A look, and he was crashing on, covered with thistledown from the - tangle of brush. It was a pleasure to jump the great hemlock logs that the - tanners had left to rot thirty years before. Once a birch of six inches - diameter snapped off short under his hand and gave him a tumble and a roll - down the slope. He got up, shook out his joints and went on with a laugh, - chasing a porcupine that lumbered off and tried to hide its head under a - stone. And when at last he ran out into the upper meadows behind the house - he was no longer thinking of Green. - </p> - <p> - But at noon the climbing party did not appear in the dining-room. At two - o'clock, when the carriage appeared, there was no sign of them. At three - the horse was still waiting and Halloran had gone back to his cigars. At - half-past three he called the boy and ordered him shortly to take the - horse back to the barn. At four the party, disheveled, flushed with - exercise, laughing merrily together over the little jokes and incidents of - the climb, came wearily up the walk. Halloran stood on the veranda and - watched them as they climbed the steps. Margaret met him half-defiantly, - half-apologetically. - </p> - <p> - “I'm sorry,” she murmured, as she passed him, the last of the party; “Mr. - Green did take some sandwiches in his pockets. We—we went on about - half way up the Wittenberg. I must change my things now; but if you still - want to go I can be ready in a few minutes.” - </p> - <p> - “No—I've sent the horse back. You couldn't go now—you need a - rest.” - </p> - <p> - “Well”—with a little toss of her head, “that's just as you like. We - can go to-morrow, perhaps.” - </p> - <p> - “I think I shall have to go away this afternoon.” Here he was, forcing her - to speak out and urge him; and she had no notion of being forced to speak. - </p> - <p> - “Oh, must you go so soon?” - </p> - <p> - “I think so.” - </p> - <p> - “That's too bad. You've not much more than got here. You really should - have gone with us; we had a glorious climb. I'm all torn to pieces.” She - put out a shoe that was cut and tom in two or three places. “I never - worked so in my life before.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran was thawing rapidly; he could not stand there looking at her and - still keep all his resentment. And when she said, with an embarrassed - little laugh, “Well, I simply must go in,” he delayed her: - </p> - <p> - “Margaret, wait just a minute. Haven't you anything to say to me. It all - rests with you. If you would tell me—to stay——” - </p> - <p> - He could not get further. She looked at him, then away. “Why—why—if - you——— Of course you know best how much time you have.” - </p> - <p> - He turned away impatiently, and she hurried into the house, pausing only - to add, “I shall be down in a few minutes.” - </p> - <p> - But when the few minutes, lengthened to half an hour, had passed, and she - had come down and looked with a curious expression into the parlours and - out about the veranda, Halloran was half a mile away, driving rapidly - toward the railway station in the junction village. And not until the - evening did she know certainly that he had gone. - </p> - <p> - One Père Marquette train reached Wauchung early in the morning, to connect - with the car-ferry across the lake; and this was the train that brought - Halloran back home. Walking up the street, bag in hand, he met the - Captain, who was getting home from the yards for breakfast. Craig stopped - when he saw him, and waited. They shook hands with only a greeting, but - the Captain's shrewd old eyes were searching Halloran's face. - </p> - <p> - “Well, Mr. Halloran, we weren't looking for you quite so soon.” - </p> - <p> - “I've taken the best part out of a week. I couldn't stay longer than that. - I'll see you after breakfast and go over things. No news?” - </p> - <p> - “No; everything's lovely. But say, Mr. Halloran, how about it?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran shook his head and would have hurried on. - </p> - <p> - “Pshaw, now; it wasn't no, was it?” - </p> - <p> - “Not exactly.” - </p> - <p> - “Well, say—then maybe it's all right.” - </p> - <p> - “It's nothing, Captain—worse than nothing.” - </p> - <p> - “You don't mean—you ain't telling me you've come back without either - no or yes?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran made no answer. He simply wanted to get away. - </p> - <p> - “Mr. Halloran, I didn't think it of you; honest, I didn't. Say, now,” he - reached down and caught hold of the bag, not heeding Halloran's protest, - “let's step back this way. There hasn't a soul seen you—not a soul.” - His eyes swept the street. “Just step along a little quicker. The early - train 'll be pulling out before long, and you can pick up some breakfast - at Reed City. I'd take you home with me—Jennie'd never peep—but - I'm afraid some of the boys might be around when you come out, and anyhow - you'd have to wait till the later train, and when you come to things like - this time's worth saving. I guess prob'ly there's some other fellow - hanging around down there these days and you've gone and given him a cool - two days' start of you—you've just handed it to him. Now you get - right back by the fastest train you can make. There's a good many things - you know a heap more about than I do, but I guess maybe women ain't one of - 'em.” - </p> - <p> - They reached the station, Halloran walking moodily without a word. At the - edge of the platform he turned. “Captain, do you really think I ought to - do it?” - </p> - <p> - “My boy, you've got to do it. You ain't going to lie down here, are you? - And that's what it means if you don't. There's your train waiting there. - You get right aboard before anybody shows up to ask questions. Good-by; - good luck to you.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran got aboard, moody still; pulled up his collar, pulled down his - hat, slid down low in the seat, and fixed his eyes on a worn spot in the - back of the seat ahead. And when the train pulled into Reed City he was - still gazing at the worn spot. - </p> - <p> - The invigorating autumn air still held in Woodland Valley. Halloran, - finding that the sleepy white horses and their driver were likely to be - delayed in the village, threw his bag under a seat and set out on foot, - following the road up through the notch by the bronze patches of - cornstalks. He caught up a handful of young winter-green and munched it as - he tramped. There was a lift in the air, and he threw open his coat and - walked with a swing. - </p> - <p> - At the house he asked for Miss Davies and was told that she was in her - room, so he wrote a line in the library and gave it to a maid to take to - her. - </p> - <p> - She came in a moment. - </p> - <p> - “Get your things, Margaret,” he said; “let's go outside.” - </p> - <p> - “But—when did you come?” - </p> - <p> - “Just now. I walked up. I've been out to Wauchung since I saw you the - other day, but there was no use trying to stay there. You see—what I - said about being down here on business was all a fib—I was afraid to - own up.” - </p> - <p> - “Afraid,” she stood looking at him, with such a peculiar expression that - he feared another delay. - </p> - <p> - “Never mind now; I'll tell you all about it when we get out. I want to - walk up to the blackberry patch where I saw you the first day.” She went - without a word for her things, still with that odd, sober expression; and - in a few moments they were walking up the path toward the lower slopes of - the mountain. - </p> - <p> - “You—you said you had been to Wauchung?” she remarked by way of - breaking the silence. - </p> - <p> - “Yes. I stayed there about twenty minutes. You see—I can laugh at it - now, but I couldn't then—I've been sort of a fool. When I wrote - those letters and you didn't answer, and then when I went to your house - and found that you'd come down here without a word to me, I was all broken - up, and my nerve just left me. And then finally I did manage to get down - here, and you didn't seem very glad to see me, and I don't doubt I was - jealous of the Green fellow. I had forgotten then that after that night in - Evanston—that when you had once let me know what you let me know - then—you never would change. You see, I know you better than you - think, Margaret. I've seen since that it was my fault—that I've been - expecting you to say things it was my business to say for myself—and - that there couldn't anything but little misunderstandings come between us - after—after that. And—and———” - </p> - <p> - He paused to look at her. She would have liked a broad hat, a sunbonnet, - anything that would have shielded her face from him, but her little tarn - was merciless, and she could only study the path. Another moment and he - had to fall behind her. - </p> - <p> - “Well, I guess that's all there is about it, Margaret. I was a fool, but - I'm not a fool any longer. Here we are, where I saw you. Let's sit down on - this log.” She slipped to the ground and deliberately faced away from him, - looking off at the tumbling slopes of Cross Mountain. But he came around - to the other side. “Now, Margaret, I've told you once, and you know all I - could say without my telling you again. I love you: that's all. I can't go - on any longer this way. I can't live without you—I've tried it—it's - no use—so why can't we understand each other right now, and stop - this playing at cross-purposes, and just be happy! You—you're all - that I want in this world, Margaret—everything—everything.” He - was leaning forward, playing nervously with a thorny twig and eagerly - searching her face. “Tell me, Margaret—tell me if you will come - right now into my life and make it worth something. I've been working day - and night for other people—now I want to work for you. I want to see - if I can't make a home for you—if I can't make you happy. When I've - been working the hardest I've wondered, a good many times, what was the - use of it all—what good it would do me if I should succeed, and make - a lot of money and direct a lot of men. There's a passion for money, and - there's a passion for power—I know a good many men that have one or - the other or both of them—but one thing I've learned this year, - Margaret, is that neither could ever fill my life and make it what I want - to make it. Nothing, nobody but you can do that. Money and power mean - worse than nothing to me unless they are means toward making you happy. - That's what I want to do, Margaret, if you'll only give me the chance. - Will you?” - </p> - <p> - There was a long, long time before she could do more than look off at the - cloud-shadows floating up the opposite mountainside. They sat motionless; - Halloran's hand had dropped from the twig; and the wonderful silence of - the mountains wrapped them about. She wondered why he did not go on; he - waited, breathless. She half turned; he caught her hand and gripped it - with a nervous grasp. Her eyes sought the shadows again, wavered, were - drawn, slowly, in spite of herself, to his face. And then he had her in - his arms. - </p> - <p> - Oh, the glory of the painted mountains, the joy of the world about them! A - hawk circled overhead, flew whistling off and lost himself in the forest. - The squirrels and chipmunks, peering out from tree and rock, recalled - their own young days and whisked away. The bees alone kept them company, - but bee-workers have no time for love-making. And all those two knew was - that the world was young and the world was many-tinted; that the sky was - blue-and-white above; that all, everything, was theirs forever, in this - world and in the world to come. - </p> - <p> - “Dear girl,” he murmured, with his lips at her ear, “there is no mistake - this time? This is for always?” - </p> - <p> - Before the words were spoken her arms were around his neck, her lips were - close to his, her heart was beating against his own. “Always,” she was - repeating with him—“always—always!” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VII—Three Announcements - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hen they reached - the house, a little late for dinner, they found a telegram for Halloran on - the mail-rack. Margaret started at the sight of it. “What is it, John? - What does it mean?” - </p> - <p> - He read it, then looked at it gloomily. “I suppose I ought to be glad,” he - said. - </p> - <p> - “Is it good news? I never can wait to see what's in a telegram.” - </p> - <p> - He handed it to her. “I don't know whether you can make anything out of - it. It is good news—it's what I've been hoping for for months. And - now I'm sorry.” - </p> - <p> - “<i>Price has risen</i>” she read. “<i>Understand that combine is broken. - Crosman</i>. What does that mean? What price? And who is Crosman?” - </p> - <p> - “I'll tell you all about it after dinner. I'm going to run up now and - throw my things together. I shall have to take the evening train.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh—John!” - </p> - <p> - He could not reply; but with a quick look around the halls he took both - her hands. - </p> - <p> - “Don't go, John. Why, it's———” - </p> - <p> - “I know, dear. It hurts—but I must.” And then, afraid of that - unmanageable little imp within him that had a way of taking the reins now - and then, he only managed to add, “I'll pack now so we can talk after - dinner,” and bolted upstairs. - </p> - <p> - After a hasty dinner he found her waiting with her coat and hat on. “I'm - going to the station with you,” she said. “Mother thinks it will be all - right, with Baker to drive. Now come out and tell me about it.” After - saying which, she herself began, as soon as they were pacing the veranda - arm in arm, on an entirely different subject. “I've talked with mother, - John. I—I suppose I ought to have waited—it was really your - place, wasn't it? But I'm so happy I couldn't wait. And dear old mother - was so surprised—I was excited, I guess, and I laughed a little, and———” - </p> - <p> - “I wanted to see her anyway, before I go.” - </p> - <p> - “You can't now, John. She's so tired and stirred up she has gone right to - bed. But—I don't think you'll find her very hard to talk with when - you do see her.” - </p> - <p> - “Does she think she can give you up?” - </p> - <p> - They were standing at the end of the veranda, and Margaret was leaning - back with both hands on the railing. She shook her head and looked - mischievously at him. “I don't know but I shall have to be a little - jealous of mother. I couldn't let many people talk about you like she - does.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran had never seen her in such spirits. It was slowly coming to him - that this was neither of the Margarets he had known in the past. He had - never seen her so well, for one thing; and now, besides, she was happy. - And all the playful tenderness, the mischief, the devotion of her honest - heart were his. Was it a wonder, then, that she captivated him as never - before? That her fancy played about him, and led his wits such a mad, - happy chase that it was she, at the last, who had to tell him that the - carriage was waiting for them and that they really must go! And as they - rolled along toward the village—as the first mile-post gleamed in - the moonlight and slipped away behind them; as the rushing Panther Kill - roared a moment in their ears and then, too, slipped behind; as they - passed the quarry and came slowly in sight of the red and green lights of - the railroad, Halloran's heart failed him. They were on the back seat of - the mountain wagon, deep in the shadow; she was in his arms for the last - time until—when? They were dropping into silence as the parting drew - near. - </p> - <p> - “Margaret,” he whispered, “I've been thinking—I can't go to-night—it's - no use.” - </p> - <p> - “No, John, don't go.” - </p> - <p> - “We'll turn around—we'll go to-morrow night—you and your - mother can start then, too—we'll all go West together. I'll wire - Crosman to begin selling. Yes, we'll drive on to the station, and I'll - send the message.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm afraid, John, I couldn't get mother ready to go to-morrow. You don't - quite understand—it would unsettle her dreadfully to get ready and - go all in a rush like that. She has her mind made up for two weeks more—and - I'm afraid I couldn't shorten it to less than one. Stay a week; it isn't - much. You deserve a vacation. Mr. Crosman won't mind.” - </p> - <p> - The little imp already had his hands on the reins; but at the sound of the - whistle, far up the Shandaken Valley, Halloran roused. “I don't know what - I'm thinking of, Margaret. They need me there. Good-by; don't say anything—I'm - afraid I'll stay. Good-by.” - </p> - <p> - “Good—good-by, John. Write to me.” She saw him on the train; she - walked to the end of the platform to wave when his car passed; and then, - deep in the gloom of the night, she walked slowly back to the carriage. - </p> - <p> - Halloran sent a message on ahead, and Crosman, all excitement, met him at - the station. - </p> - <p> - “It's all over, Mr. Halloran,” he burst out, as they shook hands. “Mr. - Corrigan's been down here to see you about advancing prices to cover - losses.” - </p> - <p> - “We don't need to advance prices. We haven't lost anything.” - </p> - <p> - “Well—he only went back last night. He says he hopes you'll write - him.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll see to it. Does Mr. Higginson know?” - </p> - <p> - “Only what Mamie could tell him. He wants to see you. I asked the doctor - about it, and he says you can go in if you have some good news for him; if - you haven't, you'd better stay away. I told him I guessed there wasn't - much doubt about that.” - </p> - <p> - “I'll go over after supper.” - </p> - <p> - “All right; I'll leave word so's they'll be ready. And say, Mr. Halloran, - there's another thing. I was going to talk to Mrs. Higginson to-day about—about - Mamie and me, but Mamie doesn't want me to. She says her mother wouldn't - listen to a word from me. And we've been talking it over, and we wondered - if you'd be willing to say a word for us.” He hurried to add: “I know it's - sort of a funny thing to ask, but we're just up a tree. If I could see her - father I could manage it, but it's pretty tough to go on like this and - feel all the while that she's down on me.” Halloran pursed his lips. “It's - Mrs. Higginson that you want me to talk to?” - </p> - <p> - “Well, no—not since they're going to let you see him. Now don't you - do it, Mr. Halloran, if you'd rather not. I know how———” - </p> - <p> - “If I see a good chance I'll try to put in a word. You won't mind if I go - in now and wash up?” - </p> - <p> - “No. Say, it's mighty square of you———” - </p> - <p> - “Never mind that. I suppose I'll see you this evening?” - </p> - <p> - After supper Halloran walked around to the Higginson home and was met at - the door by Mamie, blushing and smiling. - </p> - <p> - “Come in, Mr. Halloran,” she said. “Papa's been impatient to see you. You - can go right up. Mamma asked me to excuse her to you. She isn't feeling - well.” - </p> - <p> - Mr. Higginson, looking ten years older for his long sickness, was propped - up in an arm chair. He smiled eagerly at the sight of his manager in the - doorway, and held out his hand. “Come in, John,” he said. “I'm glad to see - you. Sit down. You've been having a little vacation, haven't you?” - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> - </p> - <div class="fig" style="width:50%;"> - <img src="images/0303.jpg" alt="0303 " width="100%" /><br /> - </div> - <h5> - <a href="images/0303.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a> - </h5> - <p> - “Yes—I've been East.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm glad of it. You deserve it. Now I want you to tell me all about - things.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran hesitated, looking at the white, wrinkled face and wondering if - there was yet strength behind it to go into the details of the business. - “It's a good deal of a story.” - </p> - <p> - “But it's ended, isn't it? Mamie's right in what she tells me?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, it's about over.” - </p> - <p> - “And we've won?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess we have. There isn't any combine now.” - </p> - <p> - “And Bigelow——-?” - </p> - <p> - “Bigelow's broken. It was in the paper this morning.” - </p> - <p> - “Broken,” Mr. Higginson repeated, half dazed. “I didn't think our fight - could break him.” - </p> - <p> - “We didn't do it all. He's been punctured all around. I guess his Board of - Trade deal hit him the hardest.” - </p> - <p> - “What's this I've been hearing about this great lot of lumber in the yards—whose - is it? I feel like Rip Van Winkle.” - </p> - <p> - “It's ours. When the trust cut prices we bought in all we could get.” - </p> - <p> - “But—but where did you get the money?” - </p> - <p> - “From the National City.” - </p> - <p> - “And you're going to sell now?” - </p> - <p> - “We've begun already. It will just about cover our losses. I understand - Corrigan wants to raise prices a peg or so, but I've been thinking we'll - hold the advantage better if we refuse.” - </p> - <p> - “You've had a fire, I understand?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—didn't amount to much—less than the insurance premium - would have cost us.” - </p> - <p> - “Did you ever find out how it started?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—and no. It was done by a tramp. He claims he was smoking and - fell asleep. We put the screws on him, but couldn't get a word more than - that. They're still holding him, but I've about decided to let him go. - There may be something behind it, of course, but if he won't tell I don't - know who will. I hardly think it would pay us to push it any further.” - </p> - <p> - “No, I suppose not, so long as we're well out of it. Are you keeping a - close watch?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, I've put on an extra man since the fire.” While he was answering - these eager questions, Halloran had been looking for an opportunity to - open the subject that was uppermost in his mind. Now, dropping his voice, - he began: - </p> - <p> - “There's one thing, Mr. Higginson—-” - </p> - <p> - But his employer did not hear. “Who was this Le Duc I've been hearing - about?” - </p> - <p> - “He's Captain Craig's son-in-law. Bigelow put him up as his operator in - corn.” Again his voice lost its assurance. “I have something to tell—” - </p> - <p> - “Craig's son-in-law. Strange I never heard of him.” - </p> - <p> - “I didn't put it quite right—Le Duc married his granddaughter. - Bigelow was Craig's son-in-law.” - </p> - <p> - “Bigelow!” - </p> - <p> - “Yes—that makes Le Duc Bigelow's son-in-law. You see, the Captain's - daughter has been found in Chicago, and he's brought her back home. She - was divorced from Bigelow a good while back.” - </p> - <p> - “Divorced from Bigelow!” - </p> - <p> - It dawned on Halloran that he was stirring the old gentleman's brain into - a muddle, and he stopped. - </p> - <p> - “I guess we won't go into it now, John—I seem to be a little tired. - It's strange—strange. More seems to have happened in these months - than in all the rest of my life put together. But didn't I interrupt you a - moment ago? What were you going to say?” - </p> - <p> - Halloran had no more than started, in that same altered voice, than a - dress rustled behind him and Mr. Higginson broke in with: “Come in, my - dear. Here is John Halloran.” - </p> - <p> - Mrs. Higginson, becomingly pale, a pink-and-white shawl drawn about her - shoulders, came languidly in and took Halloran's hand. “Don't stand,” she - said; “I heard your voice and thought I would come in for a moment. I am - hardly able to get downstairs yet, but I try to walk about a little on - this floor. Doctor Brown fairly orders me to keep very quiet, but I feel - sure that a little exercise is the best thing. How are we ever to get - about if we take no exercise? Don't you feel that draught, dear? John, - would you mind shutting the door? I have to be a little careful about such - things. I'm glad you've brought Mr. H. some good news. Doctor Brown said - it was the one thing that might help him. 'Tell Mr. Halloran to come if he - brings good news,' he said. 'If he doesn't, he'd better stay away.' Well, - we've had a pretty serious time of it here, haven't we? I told Mr. H. he - simply must get well—for what was to become of Mamie and me if he - didn't. We haven't seen much of you lately, John. Of course, things have - been rather broken up with my sickness, and Mr. H.'s., but I am sure Mamie - would have been glad to see you any time.” - </p> - <p> - “John has been away,” said Mr. Higginson. - </p> - <p> - There was a pause, and Halloran, seeing his opportunity, girded up his - courage and plunged forward. “It's been a pretty important trip to me,” he - began. This was clumsy, but it was go ahead or nothing with him now, and - he went ahead. “Since I went away—I went down to see Margaret - Davies, of Evanston; she has been staying down there, in the mountains—and - she has promised to be my wife.” - </p> - <p> - The words were out. Mr. Higginson sat up straight in his chair and stared - at him. Mrs. Higginson leaned back and stared. Halloran could only turn - red. Finally, Mrs. Higginson, the first to recover, repeated the name, - “Margaret Davies! I've never heard any Evanston people speak of her. Has - her family lived there long?” - </p> - <p> - “Yes, all her life” - </p> - <p> - “Um—it's not a wealthy family, I suppose?” - </p> - <p> - “I guess so. They have a fine old place on the Ridge.” - </p> - <p> - Again Mrs. Higginson's tongue failed her, and she rose to go. “I hope you - won't mind if I tell Mamie, Mr. Halloran. She will be interested.” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, no; not at all. It's not a secret.” - </p> - <p> - “We are all very glad to hear it. It's rather a sudden affair, isn't it?” - </p> - <p> - “Oh, dear, no. It's years old.” - </p> - <p> - “Years—indeed? I hope you'll do some very careful thinking. It is - asking a good deal of a woman to bring her here to Wauchung—a city - woman especially, with culture and refined tastes. I hope you aren't - making a mistake. It would be such a pity for her life to turn out - unhappily.” She went out; and Halloran, after fidgeting a moment, began to - think that the best thing he could do would be to go, too. But Mr. - Higginson checked him. “Sit down, John; sit down. So you're going to be - married? Well, I'm glad to hear it. Let me shake hands with you.” Halloran - was nervous and he rose again. - </p> - <p> - “Wait a minute; I haven't said what I wanted to see you about yet. There's - a matter that's been in my mind a good deal while I've been lying here, - and I guess this is a good time to bring it up. I jotted down some - memoranda this morning—there on the table, those folded papers. I - wish you'd take them with you and look them over. I want your opinion on - them before we do anything about it.” - </p> - <p> - Halloran took the papers, opened the first one, and ran his eye over it. - At the first words he started, flushed, muttered something, and looked up, - speechless with gratitude. “Why—why———” - </p> - <p> - “That's all right,” Mr. Higginson interrupted. “Never mind giving your - decision now. Go home and think it over. If you see anything about it that - you think could be improved, talk it over with me the next time you come - around and I guess we won't make much difficulty over it. Higginson & - Halloran doesn't look quite so well as Higginson & Co. A shorter name - would look better. But we never did go in much for looks.” - </p> - <p> - “I don't need to think over this, Mr. Higginson.” - </p> - <p> - “Take it along; take it along. I guess I've talked enough for this - afternoon. I'm a little tired.” - </p> - <p> - There was nothing to do now but to go. As he passed down the stairs he saw - Crosman and Mamie standing anxiously in the parlour doorway. - </p> - <p> - “Did they say anything about our coming up?” said Crosman. - </p> - <p> - Halloran stopped short. “By Jove!” he said; and then: “Say, I'm sorry, but - I clean forgot you. It comes to the same thing, anyhow; I never could have - said a word. I guess it's up to you.” - </p> - <p> - He stood aside. Mamie looked at Crosman. - </p> - <p> - “Well, say, Mamie, where is she?” - </p> - <p> - “In her room, I guess.” - </p> - <p> - “You go up ahead, Mamie, and find out if I can see her.” - </p> - <p> - So with a dejected expression, Mamie piloting him, Crosman started up the - stairs just as Halloran left the house. - </p> - <p> - <br /><br /> - </p> - <hr /> - <p> - <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a> - </p> - <div style="height: 4em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - <h2> - CHAPTER VIII—Leveling Down - </h2> - <p class="pfirst"> - <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>argaret and - Halloran were married in the late spring. For their honeymoon they went - back to the mountains at the time when the apple buds were bursting into - billows of pink and white in hillside orchards. The song-sparrows and - robins sang for them as they drove up from the village; the brook, - boisterous with a burden drained from higher slopes where the snow still - lingered under northern ledges, brawled almost at the carriage wheels; - millions of violets dotted the roadside, and white strawberry blossoms and - the first daisies, and forget-me-nots that had escaped from some old-time - garden. The smell of spring was in the air, the intoxicating sense of - youth and health and happiness. And as they rolled comfortably along - behind the jogging white horses they could only look at each other and - draw in deep breaths of the fragrant, buoyant air, and be glad. - </p> - <p> - Their first climb was up to the blackberry patch, under the maples. As - they sat there on a well-remembered log, and looked out on the green - wonder of the opposite slope, where the cloud-shadows were mounting as on - that day of the autumn before, Margaret slipped her hand into Halloran's. - “Listen,” she said. - </p> - <p> - Far back in the hollow of the mountain a winter wren was caroling, - welcoming them back to the highlands with all the melody in his little - throat. His neighbours took it up, and piped their shrillest; and all - along the slope chirped the dainty babel of welcome. - </p> - <p> - “John,” she murmured. - </p> - <p> - “Yes, Margaret.” - </p> - <p> - “They can't send you any telegrams now?” - </p> - <p> - “It wouldn't do them any good if they did. I've ordered the station agent - to hold all messages until I call for them, and I'm not going to call.” - </p> - <p> - She smiled; and again they were silent, listening to the merry strains - behind them and to the far-off sounds from the valley, and watching the - men at work in the fields below. - </p> - <p> - We have followed them thus far, but now, in telling an odd incident of - this little journey, we take leave. One evening, at supper, some active - bodies at the house busied themselves in getting up an expedition to the - village. There was to be a “show” in the village hall. These things were - said to be great fun, and Margaret and Halloran were in the first wagon - that went down. A band of broken-down actors, the latest coon songs, an - elaborate silver table set to be raffled off—a number being given - with each and every ticket sold to the performance—these were the - attractions. It was hinted that the same silver set would probably figure - again in other years; for the raffle included all the towns along the - railroad, and the winning ticket seemed always to be held in some other - town. But the natives of the mountains were always glad to be swindled, - and silverware was not to be resisted. Small farmers, who build shingled - bay windows and buy cabinet organs before the rear of the house is boarded - up, fall an easy prey to these allurements. So the hall was crowded, and - the party found some difficulty in getting seats. - </p> - <p> - At length the cracked piano began to jingle.. The janitor lighted the - lamps that served for footlights, and a voice, somewhere behind the - curtain, was heard singing. - </p> - <p> - The giggling, chatting audience was hushed. The kerosene lamps smoked and - flickered unheeded. A village aristocrat, daughter of the general - storekeeper, with her gum-chewing escort, sat next to Halloran, rapt with - expectancy. The voice swelled out louder and louder, as it approached the - refrain. Margaret, finding the audience more odorous and less picturesque - than she had looked for, turned to suggest an early departure, and was - surprised to see her husband leaning forward, his hands on the back of the - chair in front, his eyes fixed on the stage. There were signs that the - curtain was to be drawn; and as the voice swung into the refrain, “For - Golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy, dee-iddle-dee airy, - ta-raddle-my-own,” the singer was disclosed, a long-legged black-face - comedian, in a gorgeous, if shabby, cake-walk costume. Halloran muttered, - “Well, I'm blest!” - </p> - <p> - “What is it, John?” she whispered. - </p> - <p> - “Don't you know him? It's Apples!” - </p> - <p> - Sure enough, Le Duc, after a vain chase for the gold that glitters above - the corn-pit on the Board of Trade, had returned to the path that leads to - Shakespeare. The Bard was not quite within hail, to be sure, for Apples - had lost his place in the line and must begin farther back than ever, but - the road was still there. As they watched and listened, a woman, also in - black-face, joined the comedian; and they recognized his wife. - </p> - <p> - The next morning Halloran walked to the village after breakfast for a talk - with Le Duc, but the “company” had left by an early train. “I don't know,” - he said to Margaret when they talked it over later in the day; “there's - not much use being sorry for them. They'd have landed on this level sooner - or later anyhow—nothing could stop them. And he can't do anything - like the harm with his silver-set swindle that he could have if Bigelow - had succeeded in putting his deal through.” - </p> - <p> - “I'm a little sorry for Lizzie, though. I used to think she might amount - to something. You see, John, I can't quite forget that if it hadn't been - for her and George we might not—maybe we wouldn't have come to know - each other so well.” They were walking in the orchard. As she spoke she - picked a cluster of apple blossoms and turned to pin them on his coat. - </p> - <p> - “Perhaps not,” he said, looking down at her and smiling, “but I don't - know. Maybe we'd have landed on this level, too, no matter how we started. - I like to think so.” - </p> - <p> - She looked up with one of the quick, shy glances he was learning to - expect; and as quickly looking down again, and lowering her head over the - blossoms, she murmured, “So do I.” - </p> - <h3> - THE END - </h3> - <div style="height: 6em;"> - <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> - </div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Whip Hand, by Samuel Merwin - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIP HAND *** - -***** This file should be named 54102-h.htm or 54102-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/1/0/54102/ - -Produced by David Widger from page images generously -provided by the Internet Archive - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -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. 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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Whip Hand, by Samuel Merwin
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-
-
-
-Title: The Whip Hand
- A Tale of the Pine Country
-
-Author: Samuel Merwin
-
-Release Date: February 3, 2017 [EBook #54102]
-Last Updated: March 13, 2018
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WHIP HAND ***
-
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-Produced by David Widger from page images generously
-provided by the Internet Archive
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-</pre>
-
- <div style="height: 8em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h1>
- THE WHIP HAND
- </h1>
- <h3>
- A Tale Of The Pine Country
- </h3>
- <h2>
- By Samuel Merwin
- </h2>
- <h4>
- New York: Doubleday, Page & Company
- </h4>
- <h3>
- 1903
- </h3>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0001.jpg" alt="0001 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0001.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0009.jpg" alt="0009 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0009.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0018.jpg" alt="0018 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0018.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- <b>CONTENTS</b>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK I—BEGINNINGS</b> </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_PROL"> PROLOGUE—The Young Man at the Stern </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I—Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II—Low Life </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III—George and His Troubles </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV—The End of the Beginning </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> <b>BOOK — PINE</b> </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER I—A Decision to Fight </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER II—Under Way </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER III—Tightening the Blockade </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER IV—Mr. Babcock Breakfasts Late </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER V—A Venture in Matrimony </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER VI—A Shut-down </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER VII—Halloran Goes to Chicago </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER VIII—The Question </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER X—A Letter </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XI—High Life at the Le Ducs </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XII—The Pine Comes In </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>BOOK III — THROUGH FIRE</b> </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER I—A Little Talk with Captain Craig
- </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER II—Going to Headquarters </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER III—Mr. Babcock's Last Card </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER IV—Twelve, Midnight </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER V—The Meeting </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER VII—Three Announcements </a>
- </p>
- <p class="toc">
- <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER VIII—Leveling Down </a>
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- BOOK I—BEGINNINGS
- </h2>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_PROL" id="link2H_PROL"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- PROLOGUE—The Young Man at the Stern
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span> THICK, wet night
- on the southwest coast of Lake Michigan a dozen years ago; a wind that
- sweeps over the pitching lake and on over the dim white beach with a rush
- that whirls the sand up and away. Trees are bending up there on the bluff.
- The sand and the rain are in the air—or do we feel the spray from
- yonder line of breakers, a hundred yards away?
- </p>
- <p>
- And deep in a mudhole on the lonely road that skirts the bluff—the
- four horses, fetlock-deep in the sticky clay, straining forward like
- heroes, the members of the student crew in their oilskins throwing their
- weight on the wheels of the truck—is the Evanston surf-boat.
- </p>
- <p>
- The driver has pulled his sou'wester hat down on his neck behind and swung
- the U. S. L. S. S. lantern on his arm; he stands beside the forward wheel,
- cracks his long whip and swears vigorously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hold on a minute, boys,” he calls over his shoulder; and he must shout it
- twice before he is heard. “Whoa, there! Stand back! Now, boys, get your
- breath and try it together. When I call——— Now. All
- ready! Let her go!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The men throw themselves on the spokes, the horses plunge forward under
- the lash of the whip. A moment of straining—an uncertain moment—then
- the wheels turn slowly forward, the horses' feet draw out with a sucking
- sound, and the boat rolls ahead. The driver unbuttons his oilskins at the
- waist and reaches beneath an under coat for his watch. They have been out
- two hours; distance covered, two miles. Before him is darkness, save where
- the lantern throws a yellow circle on the ground; behind him is darkness,
- save for the white boat, the little group of panting, grunting men, and, a
- long mile to the southward, the gleaming eye of the Grosse Pointe
- lighthouse, now red, now white. But somewhere in the darkness ahead,
- somewhere beyond the white of the breakers, a big steamer is pounding
- herself to pieces on the bar. So he buttons his coat and shifts the reins
- and swears at the horses. He seems to swear easily, this young fellow; but
- he is thinking of the poor devils on the big steamer, lashed to the mast
- perhaps, if the masts are still standing; and he is wondering how many of
- them will ever ship again.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- A huge bonfire lighted up beach and breakers. Around it huddled a motley
- crowd, students in rain-coats or sweaters, sober citizens and residents of
- the north shore, fishermen, and all the village loafers. But the students
- were in the majority and were making most of the noise. It was they who
- had built the fire, raiding fences and wood-yards to send up a blaze that
- should tell the poor fellows out yonder of the warmth and comfort awaiting
- them on shore—if they should ever get in through the surf. They were
- cheering, too, giving the college yells and shouting out inspiriting
- messages—as if any noise below the sound of a gun or a steam
- fog-horn could hope to be heard over the roar of the lake! But this was a
- great occasion and must be made the most of.
- </p>
- <p>
- Of course no such body of students could act in concert without a
- recognized leader; and the young man who claimed the honour could be
- distinguished at a glance. Now issuing orders to the foragers, now
- mounting the pile to adjust with a flourish the top barrel and to pour out
- the last can of kerosene, now heading the war-dance around the crackling
- fire or leading the yells with an improvised baton, always in evidence, as
- busy and breathless as though his labours had an aim—was a
- long-faced, long-legged student. He wore a cap that was too small to hide
- his curly chestnut hair. His face was good-natured, if flushed with the
- responsibilities of his position. His rain-coat thrown aside, he stood
- attired in a white sweater with a wide-rolling collar, and a pair of
- striped trousers that fitted close to his nimble legs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hi, there! Here they come!”
- </p>
- <p>
- A small boy was shouting. He had been stationed on the bluff; and now he
- was sliding down, using his trousers as a toboggan on the steep clay.
- “Here they come!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The news spread. “Here they come!” was passed from mouth to mouth. Those
- who had gone out of the firelight, in order to get a glimpse of the hulk
- that stood out dimly against the horizon, now came running back and joined
- their voices to the cheer that was rising.
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, they had come. A Coston signal was burning up on the bluff; and half
- a hundred pair of legs were running up the beach to lend a hundred hands
- in getting a ton and more of surf-boat down the ravine road. The tall
- young man led the way, thanks to the nimble legs, and called over his
- shoulder as he ran:
- </p>
- <p>
- “This way, boys! Everybody this way!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The horses were taken out in a hurry and led off to the nearest barn. Long
- ropes were rigged to the back axle, “everybody” laid hold, and then, with
- the crew men still hanging to the spokes and the young driver leaning back
- on the tongue to guide the forward wheels, the surf-boat went bumping and
- lurching down the road. With a rush and a cheer she went, as if the fever
- of the waiting crowd had got into the wheels, as if the desperate hands of
- the half-drowned men out yonder were hauling them on—impatiently,
- madly, courageously hauling them on.
- </p>
- <p>
- On down the beach, the broad wheels plowing through the sand; on toward
- the breakers that came running to meet them: into the water with a splash
- and a plunge, until ankles were wet and knees were wet—then a halt.
- The eight young men in oilskins bustled about the boat, their yellow coats
- and hats glistening in the firelight; and the crowd stood silent at the
- water's edge, looking first at them and then at the black-and-white sea
- out yonder—and an ugly sea it was. But in a moment the confusion
- resolved into harmony. The eight men fell into place around the boat,
- lashed on their cork jackets, laid hold of the gunwales, ran her out into
- the surf, tumbled aboard—and the fight was on.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was a fight that made those young fellows set their teeth hard as their
- backs bent over the oars. They did not know that this storm had strewn the
- coast with wrecks; they did not know that the veteran crew at Chicago had
- refused to venture out in their big English life-boat. And they did not
- care. Too young to be prudent, too strong to be afraid, these youngsters
- fought for the sake of the fighting; and they loved it. So they worked
- through the surf with never a thought of failure, with never a thought
- that the white waves might beat them back; and they shook the water out of
- their eyes and watched Number Two, who was pulling stroke to-night, and
- went in to win. And all the while the young man standing erect in the
- stern, swinging the twenty-foot steering-oar, was swearing, letting out a
- flow of language that would, as Number Two said afterward, have made a
- crab go forwards. It was plain that he was enjoying it, too.
- </p>
- <p>
- The fire was sinking; the drizzle was cold and penetrating. The little
- groups down on the hard sand near the water were tired of straining their
- eyes into the blackness. The moment of enthusiasm was past. The surf-boat
- had slipped away like a dream—a moment of tossing against the sky, a
- glimpse of set faces, a shout or two over the pounding surf, then the
- lead-black lake with its white flecks, the lead-black sky, and the spot of
- deeper black where the steamer lay. A shivering fellow brought an armful
- of driftwood from a dry nook and threw it on the fire. The idea was good
- and the others took it up. Soon the flames were leaping up again.
- </p>
- <p>
- And now what more natural than a song! The bleached-out bones of a
- forty-ton lumber schooner lay curving up from the sand; here mounted a
- student, he of the white sweater and long legs, and the others crowded
- around.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Apples; let her go!”
- </p>
- <p>
- And they sang out merrily there, with the glare of the fire in their wet
- faces and the wildness of the lake in their throats:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “Oh, my name is Captain Hall, Captain Hall!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- A rush of wind carried the next words down the beach; but the last lines
- came out strong:
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- “Hope to———you go to Hell!
- </p>
- <p class="indent20">
- Hope to——— you're roasted well!
- </p>
- <p class="indent30">
- Damn your eyes!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hi-yi!”—it is the small boy again. “There she is! There she is!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where, boy?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Out there—off the breakwater! There—see!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again the straining eyes, again the lead-black of the sky and water. Is
- that the boat, that speck of white away out, or is it a whitecap? Now it
- is gone. Has the boat dropped into a hollow of the sea? Who knows! A white
- speck here, another there, white specks everywhere! “Boy, you're
- dreaming.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure he's dreaming. They haven't been gone twenty minutes. What's the
- matter with you!” Yes, it is only twenty minutes; and there is a weary,
- bitter hour yet for the poor devils before they may set foot on land.
- Another song is the cry; and more wood—heap her up! Again Apples
- mounts his grim perch—the head- and footstone of half a dozen
- forgotten sailors—and marches the “Grand Old Duke of York” up the
- hill, and marches him down again; and when he was up he was up, up, up;
- and when he was down he was down, down, down; and when he was only half
- way up he was neither up nor down; and the rain thickens; and the smoke
- and flames run along parallel to the sand, so fierce is the wind; and the
- poor devils out yonder call up what prayers they may have known in
- childhood—and lucky the sailor who remembers how those prayers used
- to go!
- </p>
- <p>
- There is more singing and more watching; then, after a long while, the
- boat is sighted. She is coming in from the north, making full allowance
- for the set of the surf. As she works slowly nearer they can make out the
- figure of the steersman and the huddled lot of crew men and sailors. The
- fire is renewed again and a shout goes up. She hovers outside the line of
- surf, then lifts on a roller and comes swiftly in to the sand, so swiftly
- that the oars must be hauled in with a rush, and the crew must tumble out,
- waist-deep, and catch the gunwales and heave her forward before the wave
- glides back.
- </p>
- <p>
- There is one man in the stem, rolling about between the feet of Number
- Two. Even in that uncertain light, and bedraggled as he is, it is plain
- that his dress is of a different quality from that of the sailors.
- Bareheaded he is, and one can see the white in his hair and the wrinkles
- on his smooth-shaven face. It seems, too, that he wants the physique of
- his companions, most of whom are able, for all the exposure, to spring out
- without assistance. The steersman, who has been watching him with some
- anxiety, leans over and helps him out, and then, swinging him on his
- shoulders, carries him pickaback up out of the water and toward the fire.
- Word goes around that this is the owner of the steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, Jack,” calls Apples, bobbing up close at hand, “you're to go up to
- the house on the bluff. They are making coffee for all the boys. Let me
- give you a hand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The steersman makes no reply, but, as his burden protests that he can
- walk, lets him down, and each young man takes an arm. In a few moments
- they are all, rescuers and rescued, in a hospitable kitchen drinking black
- coffee and crowding, with steaming clothes, about the range. The steersman
- drinks a second cup at a gulp and looks around for his men. He is not
- joining in the talk, for a heavy responsibility rests on him, but his eyes
- have the blaze of excitement in them and his square jaw is set hard. His
- white, drawn face shows that the work is telling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on, boys,” he says quietly. “Time for the next trip.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Quiet falls on the room that was just now loud with talk. It continues
- while the crew men toss down their coffee, hastily retie their cork
- jackets, and file out into the night. The sailors have been exultant over
- their rescue; but now they are reminded of the comrades out yonder, and
- they fall into moody silence.
- </p>
- <p>
- But after all, it is a great thing to be alive when one has been clinging
- to a rope in a desperate sea with ugly thoughts to face. At any rate,
- these men seemed to find it so; for, after a time, when doubtless the
- white surf-boat was bobbing far out, one of the hundred white flecks on
- the black lake; when doubtless the poor fellows who had to wait, old
- Captain Craig with them, were still cursing and praying—and one of
- them had wept foolish tears when they parted—they fell back into
- talk. The drama had reached but the second act, and no one could say if it
- was to be a tragedy, but the warm kitchen and the plentiful coffee, and
- the thoughtless talk of the half-dozen students who had followed them in,
- were not to be resisted. Within half an hour the banter and jokes were
- flying fast.
- </p>
- <p>
- The elderly man, whose name was Higginson, was sitting close to the range,
- wrapped in a blanket. He found Apples at his elbow and spoke to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What crew is this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Evanston crew.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The man nodded and was silent, but after a few moments he spoke again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who was that young man in the stem? Is he the Captain?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, the Captain is sick. He is Number One.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is his name?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Halloran—Jack Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n a mahogany
- office high up in a very high building sat Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow. An
- elaborate building it was, with expensive statuary about the entrance,
- with unusually expensive mosaic floors on all of the fifteen or more
- stories. A dozen elevators were at Mr. Bigelow's service, and a dozen
- uniformed elevator boys to bow deferentially whenever he granted his brief
- presence in the necessary actions of going up to his office or coming down
- from his office—boys that were fond of remarking casually when the
- great man had stepped out, “That's G. Hyde Bigelow.” A very expensive
- building, in fact, such as best comported with his dignity.
- </p>
- <p>
- For Mr. Bigelow was a rising man; and the simple inscription on the
- ground-glass door, “G. Hyde Bigelow & Company,” already stood in the
- eyes of a small quarter of the financial world of Chicago for unqualified
- success. If a syndicate was to be floated, if a mysterious new combine was
- to be organized, what so important to its success as the name of G. Hyde
- Bigelow somewhere behind the venture—what so necessary in the
- somewhat difficult task of making it plain that paper is gold, that water
- is a solid, as the indorsement of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company? If
- Bigelow invested largely in Kentucky coal lands, what more reasonable than
- an immediate boom in Kentucky coal—and that men should speak sagely
- on the street of the immense value of the new mines? If Bigelow went
- heavily into the new-style freighters that were to revolutionize the
- lake-carrying trade, what more natural than a rush in “new freighters,”
- and who could know if the Bigelows should unload rapidly on an inflated
- market? But the great man is speaking!
- </p>
- <p>
- Before him, on the mahogany desk, were spread some papers—vastly
- important papers, or they could never have penetrated to the Presence to
- take up time of such inestimable value. “Time is money” is a phrase that
- had been heard to fall from the Bigelow lips. Perhaps some one else had
- coined this phrase years before; perhaps Mr. Bigelow himself might even
- vaguely remember hearing it: what matters it! Did not old phrases fall
- new-minted from his lips? Did not the minor earths and moons and
- satellites that revolved about the Bigelow sun recognize in each
- authoritative Bigelow utterance an addition to the language? And were
- there ever such jokes as the Bigelow jokes?
- </p>
- <p>
- Before him were the papers; beside him, in a broad-armed, leather-backed
- mahogany chair, sat the junior partner, the “Company” of Bigelow &
- Company, Mr. William H. Babcock. A youngish man was Mr. Babcock; a very
- well dressed man with a shrewd, somewhat incredulous eye; a man who speaks
- cautiously, is even inclined to mumble in a low voice; and who finds his
- worth and caution recognized as a useful, if secondary, part of the
- importance of Bigelow & Company. Lacking in the audacious qualities of
- his senior, it would seem, but shrewd, very shrewd—not a man given
- to unnecessary promises or straight-out declarations. And if Mr. Babcock
- had a phrase, a creed, locked securely away in the depths behind that
- quiet face, it was “Business is Business.” Business <i>was</i> business to
- Mr. Babcock; and he had hopes, even a fair prospect, indeed, of himself
- rising to a point where Time should be Money, thanks to the aid of the
- Bigelow name. And in the part of those depths where the thinking was done,
- the thought lurked, that if the time should ever come when
- Business-is-Business and Time-is-Money should be combined in his career
- (and everything about him tended to combination), Chicago would be too
- small for William H. Babcock.
- </p>
- <p>
- The papers were before Mr. Bigelow, and the great brain was grappling with
- them; it being Mr. Babcock's part to weed out details and trouble Mr.
- Bigelow only with the broader facts.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And now, Mr. Babcock,” said the head of the firm, “how are we to arrive
- at this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Babcock leaned forward and mumbled a few sentences with the air of a
- man habitually afraid of being overheard and caught. Mr. Bigelow's brow
- drew together, in such a state of concentration was the massive brain.
- History has not recorded the subject of these documents; whether it was
- Kentucky Coal or New Freighters, or the booming town of Northwest Chicago,
- or suburban street-railways, or one of the dozen or more growing interests
- that absorbed at this time the attention and some of the money of G. Hyde
- Bigelow & Company (to say nothing of the money of the Bigelow
- followers), we may never know. For at the moment when the Bigelow brows
- were knitted the closest, when the questions raised by the papers were
- about to attain a masterly and decisive solution, an office-boy entered
- the room—a round-eyed boy so awed by the Presence that he was
- visibly impatient to deliver his message and efface himself—a boy
- who was habitually out of breath.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lady t' see y'u, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow turned with some annoyance. How often had his subordinates
- instructed this boy to demand the card of every visitor and to lay it
- silently on the mahogany desk. But, on the other hand, Mr. Bigelow made it
- a point to rise above petty annoyances.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, boy, what is the name?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sh' wouldn' give 't, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The great man's expression changed slightly; it was as if he had suddenly
- remembered something. He turned to the desk and fingered the papers for a
- moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We will take up this matter after lunch, Mr. Babcock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He spoke a shade more pompously than was his wont in dealing with his
- junior.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Babcock bowed and went out. Then Mr. Bigelow turned to his
- stenographer, who was clicking away by the window.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Brown, I wish you would go out to the files and look up all the Pine
- Lands correspondence for me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The stenographer laid aside her work and went out.
- </p>
- <p>
- And now Mr. Bigelow, once more bland and gracious, turned to the boy who
- was holding fast to the bronze door-knob.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, boy, you may show the lady in.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Having said this, he bent over a letter and was so busy that he seemed not
- to hear the woman enter. For some moments she stood there by the closed
- door. Once she coughed timidly; and even that failed to reach the
- attention of the much-absorbed man. But at last the letter was laid down
- and Mr. Bigelow turned.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down,” he said, motioning to the chair that Mr. Babcock had just now
- vacated.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the woman, it seemed, preferred to stand. “Why have you come here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think you know why I have come.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow took up the letter again and regarded it closely. A great many
- thoughts apparently were passing through his mind—thoughts not of
- Kentucky Coal and New Freighters, but of a stately suburban home of
- granite completed within the year; of a certain Mrs. Bigelow who was
- rising rapidly toward the social leadership of her suburb, and was
- carrying Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow into circles that he, with all his prestige
- of a sort, could hardly have penetrated alone; of a certain dignified,
- comfortable, downright conservative suburban church, where the Bigelow
- money and judgment, new as they were in such surroundings, were
- undoubtedly earning a place; and, lastly, of certain small Bigelows. Of
- all these things thought Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” he said at length, without raising his eyes, “what is it now? What
- do you want?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If I had only myself to think of,” began the woman, speaking in a low
- voice and with noticeable effort, “I should never come near you. But I <i>have</i>
- others to think of, and I think you have, too. I have not come for money.
- If I could do it, I should like to bring every cent you have given me and
- throw it in your face.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Rather unpleasant words these—unpleasant to Mr. Bigelow, at least.
- Indeed, they seemed quite to disturb him, to drive him even toward
- something that in a man of smaller reputation might have been called
- brutality.
- </p>
- <p>
- “See here,” he burst out, wheeling around, “how long is this going to keep
- up? How many years more must I support you in idleness? There is a limit
- to this sort of thing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It may be that this was not so much brutality as sagacity. It may be that
- Mr. Bigelow had in mind certain steps that might relieve him from a
- situation which was growing more and more annoying and disagreeable, and
- that this was one of the steps. For such words as these—such a blaze
- of righteous anger—should be very hard to answer in a man's own
- office; hard at least for an unknown woman before the great G. Hyde
- Bigelow. Even if the woman had come with vague notions that she was acting
- within her rights, that the law which had severed her life from the life
- of this man so long ago would support her now—what was she, after
- all, but an unfortunate woman standing before a great man?
- </p>
- <p>
- But there was a curious expression in her eyes: perhaps she was more
- resolute than he supposed; perhaps simply she had reached a point in
- wretchedness where such words fail of an impression.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When I told you I should never come to your office, I did not know how
- you would take advantage of me. I should not have come even now if I could
- have helped it. I don't know if it will interest you to hear that I have
- not had enough to eat this week.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was mistaken; Mr. Bigelow was interested. Indeed, he was beginning to
- recover himself and to look down on the ill-dressed woman before him from
- the proper altitude of G. Hyde Bigelow. As he looked down he told himself
- that he was quite calm, that he was standing frankly and firmly, as became
- him, on his proper footing as a prominent citizen. And such a sight as
- this, an ill-dressed woman standing in this mahogany office and talking
- about starvation, was really shocking. He felt that he must dismiss her,
- must rid himself of her; but on the other hand he was really touched by
- her distress. Mr. Bigelow leaned back in his chair and half closed his
- eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How long has this been going on?” he asked, in a voice that showed signs
- of leading up to something further.
- </p>
- <p>
- She gave him a puzzled, indignant flash of her eyes and replied in the
- same low voice:
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is more than fourteen years.”
- </p>
- <p>
- More than fourteen years—think of it! For fourteen years this woman
- had been suffering for an error of judgment, the mistake of two deluded
- years, the mistake of giving her life to the wrong man, and now had even
- faced starvation because of it. So mistakes are punished in this world.
- Mr. Bigelow, on his part, looking down from his great altitude, was
- running over these fourteen years and recalling the mistakes of his own
- that had brought this annoying visit upon him. He had been soft-hearted;
- he saw it plainly enough now. In his effort to do right, to comply
- voluntarily with certain nominal requirements which a less honourable man
- would have easily evaded; in his effort to be kind to a foolish young
- woman—and a very young woman indeed she had been at first—to
- humour her childish notions of the facts of this real world—his
- impulses had carried him too far, and she, of course, had taken advantage
- of him. He should have known better.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hum! More than fourteen years,” he repeated, still sitting in his chair
- and looking dreamily at a group picture of a certain Board of Directors
- that hung above his desk. “Has it ever occurred to you to stop and figure
- up how much you have cost me during these years—how many times I
- have sent you large sums without a word? If you will think of it now you
- will remember that I have asked no questions—that I have known
- nothing whatever about your life and your acquaintances. I have not known
- how real your needs were.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He might have gone on to much plainer speaking, even to harshness (it
- being necessary sometimes in dealing with such people), had not his
- half-shut eyes strayed downward from the Board of Directors to her face.
- What he saw there seemed to weaken his self-possession. And, for another
- thing, it was certainly getting time for his stenographer to be returning
- with the Pine Lands correspondence. It was really a rather awkward moment
- for Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” he said abruptly, opening his eyes again, “there is no use in
- prolonging this conversation. Tell me what you have come here for and be
- done with it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was so abrupt that she had to wait a moment and compose herself before
- beginning in the same low tone:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I told you I had not come for money, and I meant it. I am tired of
- begging for my living. But it would cost you very little to help me to
- some situation. If you will do this, I will try not to trouble you again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow pressed his lips and beat a tattoo with his fingers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What kind of work can you do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I couldn't take skilled work, I suppose,” she replied a little wearily,
- “and I could hardly expect an office position—at my age. But I have
- thought of going into a department store. I really ought to be able to do
- something there.” Mr. Bigelow was fidgeting a little: he was thinking of
- the Pine Lands correspondence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, yes,” he said, “I don't know but what that could be arranged. I will
- speak to Murray of the New York store. He is employing hundreds of people
- all the time, and I know he has difficulty in getting good ones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He finished with a wave of dismissal and turned back to his letter. But
- the woman waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will see him to-day?” she asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, yes”—rather impatiently—“I will try to see him this
- noon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And shall I come back this afternoon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow leaned back again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I hardly think that will be necessary. Let me see———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't see how I am to know if I don't come back—unless you write
- to me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He hesitated at this and, thanks to his hesitation, received a keen stroke
- below his armour.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If it is the writing,” she said, with quiet, bitter scorn, “you know I
- have letters enough now.” Yes, she had, and he knew it: there had been
- blue moments in his life when he would have given a great deal to get
- those letters back—letters relating to money matters, most of them;
- explanations why certain sums were still unpaid, perhaps; letters sent
- back into another life, a life which had gone under Mr. Bigelow's feet as
- he mounted to higher things. And she added: “You needn't sign your name,
- if you'd rather not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, it was time to close this interview. He was not enjoying it at all—was
- even willing to concede a point in order to be rid of her. So he said
- shortly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, I will see him at noon and let you know by the morning
- delivery if he has a place for you.” She turned to go but he detained her.
- “Here—wait! I will tell him that you are a cousin of mine. Do you
- understand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She made no reply to this, but simply went out as swiftly and silently as
- possible. She was evidently as glad as he to be through with it. And Mr.
- Bigelow, after glancing at the Pine Lands correspondence and after a look
- at his watch, put on his hat and coat and left the office. It was not yet
- his lunch time, but when bent upon a benevolent errand Mr. Bigelow would
- hear of no delay; and recalling that Mr. Murray was usually on the point
- of leaving the club when he entered, he was willing even to hasten his
- lunch in order to make sure of a chat with him.
- </p>
- <p>
- And chat they did, those two powerful, public-spirited ones, over their
- cigars, of the questions of the day, handled as only masters of commerce
- could handle them; until at length—this from Mr. Bigelow, lighting a
- fresh cigar and speaking casually over his hollowed hands:
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the way, Murray, I have a cousin who is in a bad way—husband
- dead, and some children, and that sort of thing. I want to do a little
- something for her if I can. Could you give her any work?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm afraid the best place I could offer would be behind the counter in my
- North Side store at three dollars a week or so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She'd be grateful for anything. It's a matter of keeping alive.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Murray was always glad of an opportunity to oblige Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Send her around, with a letter, and I will do the best I can for her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And thus did Mr. Bigelow free himself from an entangling alliance. He had
- now given the woman an opportunity to prove her worth; if after this she
- should stumble into dark ways, there would be only herself to blame. It
- had cost him considerable effort, to say nothing of his time; but had it
- not been worth while?
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—Low Life
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">D</span>ear Mr. Halloran:
- Won't you come down to the Settlement Friday evening? The young men's
- class and the girls' class are going to entertain themselves, and Mr.
- Appleton Le Duc has promised to help them. I want to have another talk
- with you about George. We have heard nothing from him for a week, and I am
- afraid he is in trouble. After such encouragement as he has given us I
- don't like to let go of him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Be sure to come if you can.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very sincerely yours,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret Davies.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The above note accounts for the presence of Halloran and Le Duc (he of the
- nimble legs) in a suburban train, on that Friday evening, bound for
- Clybourn and the Settlement. A few seats behind them sat Miss Davies,
- escorted by Mr. Babcock, a young business man who seemed to be going in
- heartily for charity work at this time. Le Duc was talking earnestly with
- Halloran. Apparently a momentous question had arisen in his life, and the
- young man beside him, who had had plenty of experience in earning his own
- living, who could steer a life-boat in a boiling sea, whose generalship
- alone, it was conceded by one party in college, had won the Chicago game
- that fall, was, he felt sure, the best counselor to be found in the
- difficult task of guiding a life straight toward its destiny.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know another fellow I could come to with a question like this,
- Jack; but you understand these things; you know life. You've learned
- things already that the rest of us spend the most of our lives finding
- out. Now what would you say—how far do you think a man ought to go
- in sticking to the idea of an education?” Le Due's “education,” for
- several years now, had consisted of the study of elocution, with an
- occasional peck at English Literature or the French language, and a few, a
- very few, disastrous examinations. “I've got an offer to quit college
- right now to go in as second comedian with the Pooh Bah Company. They
- offer thirty dollars a week to begin with, with every prospect for a
- future. It is a rising company, you see—a sure thing. They are as
- safe as the First National Bank. If that were just the work I wanted, I
- couldn't do better.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran was sitting back with his hat down on his forehead, listening
- conscientiously, but losing a word now and then, thanks to the roar of the
- train.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see, old chap, I set my mind on Shakespeare when I first came to
- college. I decided then it would be Shakespeare or nothing with me. A
- man's got to have a goal, you know; he's got to aim high or he will never
- get anywhere; and my goal has been Shakespeare. But the question is just
- this: Ought I to give up this offer, when it may be my chance to get a
- good start on the stage? I might be able to work up into Shakespeare by
- keeping at this for awhile, and making a professional acquaintance, and
- saving up money. Men have done it, you know. What do you say?” He
- evidently really expected an answer, so Halloran gave it to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am afraid you'll have to decide that for yourself, Apples. If you care
- enough for first-class work to stick it out in college and then take your
- chances, you ought to do it: if you don't, take this. That's all I can
- say.”
- </p>
- <p>
- With which casual conversation did an evening begin that later promised to
- influence considerably the lives of several members of the party.
- </p>
- <p>
- They found a crowd of ragged boys and girls at the Settlement. Le Duc was
- to “read” for them; but he found himself fairly eclipsed by the
- performances of two of their own number, one a youthful dancer with a
- wizened face and remarkably thin legs, named Jimmie McGinnis, the other a
- dark-eyed girl, one Lizzie Bigelow, who sang some popular songs in a
- really good natural voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- This girl made an immediate impression on Apples. At the close of her
- first song he stopped applauding long enough to say confidentially to
- Halloran, “Remarkable what a lot of talent you find among these people.
- That girl ought to be in the profession. Really a stunning girl—and
- clever, awfully clever. Splendid! Splendid!” he exclaimed again, turning
- toward her as she came into the hall, and applauding vigorously.
- </p>
- <p>
- She laughed and shook her head, but made no reply. She evidently liked
- applause.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must have studied—to sing like that,” Le Duc went on.
- </p>
- <p>
- She flushed with pleasure, but only shook her head again and sat down on
- the stairs to listen to the next recitation.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Le Duc stepped out, bowing with his easy, good-natured smile, Miss
- Davies saw her opportunity to speak to Halloran. At the beginning of the
- evening she had talked a moment with Lizzie Bigelow, but with
- unsatisfactory results as her troubled expression showed. She now led the
- way to a sitting-room behind the stairs. For a short space they were
- silent—this young woman who, with the buoyancy of youth, with
- sanguineness hardly justified by the facts of the black city that was
- pulsing around her, had plunged into its darkness the feeble light of her
- hopes—and this young man who knew so well the difficulty of climbing
- up from sloth and incompetency and vicious ignorance that he was willing
- to help. He put his hands in his pockets and stood waiting for her to
- begin. He liked to look at her, she was so earnest and unconscious of
- herself; perhaps, too, because she was well worth looking at, with her
- clear, delicate skin now a little flushed and the masses of brown hair
- above her forehead.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wrote you,” she began, “that we have lost track of George. He was here
- as usual a week ago Wednesday, but then he disappeared. Lizzie, his
- sister, says they have no idea where he is; and I don't think she cares
- very much. She says he can look out for himself, and that is more than
- they can do for him at home. Now what are we to do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you seen his mother?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—not yet. She always rebuffs me. If she were more like our other
- women it would be easier. I wanted to talk with you first, and see if we
- couldn't think of some way to find him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But we have no clue. She might be able to give us a hint. Even to learn
- something about his loafing places would be a start—something to
- work from.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose—if she would tell. She is proud, you know. But we must do
- something. I can't leave that boy wandering around the city like this. The
- first thing we will hear of him in jail, and after that———”
- She ended with a shake of the head.
- </p>
- <p>
- At a thought that entered his mind Halloran smiled slightly. “Have you
- talked with Jimmie?” he asked. .
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jimmie McGinnis?” She had to smile, too.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He might tell something. One always knows what the other is up to. I
- can't think of any other way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked earnestly at him as she asked:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Will you try it—if I bring him here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded, and soon she returned with him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie looked from one to the other, his small eyes devoid of expression,
- his inscrutable thin face as innocent as that of a sleeping baby.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down, Jimmie,” said Halloran, “Miss Davies and I want to talk with
- you about George.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie seated himself and waited respectfully, his thin legs dangling off
- the floor, his hands clasped meekly in his lap. He was always willing to
- be talked to—rather enjoyed it, in fact—was particularly fond
- of moral lectures; had a keen little mind somewhere behind his narrow
- forehead, and could bring himself to discuss moral questions with his lady
- teachers, showing all the symptoms of an eager water-lily striving upward
- from its dark bed toward the light of day. Miss Davies he understood
- perfectly and really liked, in a way. She was good—and why not? Who
- wouldn't be good with plenty to eat and wear, with fathers and mothers,
- and grand suburban homes with real trees about them (he had been taken out
- there once for some Fresh Air, on which occasion he had seen a cow for the
- first time in his life). But he was a little afraid of Halloran, and
- inclined to grow secretive in his presence. To sum him up, Jimmie was
- already launched upon a professional career—he sold score-cards at
- the baseball park—and he fully realized the importance of his place
- in life; even hoped some day to be a manager and walk out to the players'
- bench before the game in a checked suit, announce the battery of the day,
- and toss out the new ball from a capacious pocket, a new ball in a red box
- with a white seal around it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Jimmie, do you know where he is?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir. I heard some one say he hadn't been around for a week.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran threw a quick glance at Miss Davies; but it was not too quick for
- Jimmie.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has run off, Jimmie, and we want to find him. It don't make any
- difference why he went. Anybody's likely to get into trouble now and then;
- and I'm not going to ask any questions. But if he has lost his job or got
- into trouble I think we could help him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Yes, sir, I'm sure you could,” Jimmie replied gratefully; and what little
- expression there was in his face said plainly enough, “Don't I know how
- you have helped me?” And then he added in eagerness to assist, “I could
- stop at the box-factory, if you like, and see if he ain't working any
- more.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, I wish you would. Tell us about it Monday at class. That's
- all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this Jimmie got soberly down from the chair and went out, leaving Miss
- Davies and Halloran to look at each other expressively.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, what do you think?” said she.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is going straight to warn him. Something is the matter. We must try
- his mother now. And we ought to do it quickly—before Monday.” Miss
- Davies mused for a moment. “We could hardly get there to-night—we
- might go to-morrow afternoon, when she gets back from her work. I will
- arrange to have dinner here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran nodded; and they returned to the hall. Jimmie was dancing again
- when they reached the parlour door, to music by one of the resident
- teachers who had volunteered to take the place of Miss Davies. Apples had
- disappeared and Lizzie Bigelow also. Miss Davies looked around for them;
- then, realizing after a moment that Jimmie's feet were not the only ones
- that were stepping in time to the music, she glanced up the stairway. A
- laugh from the upper hall and the fling of a skirt at the head of the
- stairs brought a puzzled expression to her face. But the explanation came
- in a moment. Just as Jimmie stopped dancing and was turning toward the
- hall, Apples came running down the stairs, a cane in his hand, and after
- him Lizzie Bigelow, laughing, nearly breathless, and with a heightened
- colour.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Miss Davies,” Apples exclaimed with all his good-natured assurance on
- the surface, “Miss Bigelow and I are going to do a cake-walk, and we want
- you to play for us—a good, lively march, with a lot of jump in it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Miss Davies looked at him surprised, then at Lizzie; finally, in distress,
- she turned to Halloran. But he found nothing to say. Before Miss Davies
- could collect her wits and think of some excuse Apples was blundering on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Play the one you did for the boy—that'll do splendidly. We've been
- practising up-stairs, and it goes mighty well. We'd better do it now,
- before we get our steps mixed. Miss Bigelow says she'd rather do this than
- the song she is down to sing—didn't you?” he added, appealing to
- her.
- </p>
- <p>
- She assented rather shamefacedly, and Miss Davies gave up. There was no
- rule against cakewalks, and she herself had invited Le Duc to entertain
- the boys and girls; so she concealed her dislike for this juvenile way of
- overstepping boundaries and went to the piano. Halloran was downright
- sorry for her, but he did not see what he could do..
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—George and His Troubles
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>alloran foresaw
- that it might be late Saturday evening before Miss Davies and he could
- return to Evanston, so he arranged with another member of the crew to
- stand his watch from ten to midnight; and then, knowing nothing of what
- might be before them, these two young people set out on their search for
- George.
- </p>
- <p>
- Picture a tenement far out on the North Side, one of thousands of
- smoke-coloured buildings, somewhere on an obscure street that was
- discouragingly like dozens of other streets. Without the tenement an
- electric light (for it was six o'clock and dark on this autumn day) threw
- its flare on an uneven cedar-block pavement, worn into ruts and holes that
- had given up, hopeless of repair, to mud and filth; on obscure little
- tailor shops and masquerade-costume shops, and dirty tobacco shops with
- windows hung full of questionable prints; on an itinerant
- popcorn-and-peanut man, who had stationed his glass-enclosed cart on the
- corner and was himself sitting on the curbstone, the picture of disgust
- with life; on a prosperous red-brick corner building, that shed light and
- comfort from half a dozen broad windows, announcing itself by its
- curtained inner door and its black-and-gilt signs to be Hoffman's sample
- room. So much for the neighbourhood. Within the tenement, up three flights
- of stairs, was an apartment of two rooms where lived Mrs. Craig with her
- daughter and her son, who bore the name of Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- Lizzie was sewing: her mother, back home for supper in the intermission
- between the work of afternoon and evening, was taking off her hat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is the fire going, Lizzie?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The girl shook her head without looking up. “How did I know you were
- coming home so early?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is six o'clock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, how do you suppose I'm ever going to get my work done if I have to
- make fires for you? Where's George, I'd like to know! That's his business,
- anyway.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Craig, herself wondering where George was, went to the next room and
- built the fire herself.
- </p>
- <p>
- A few moments later Halloran knocked at the door, and Miss Davies and he
- were admitted. And while Miss Davies was opening the subject, trying with
- the utmost delicacy to obtain the confidence of this woman, trying to show
- by simple, honest words how sincerely she and Halloran were interested in
- George, another boy, a small, wizened-faced boy with thin legs, was hiding
- in a doorway across the street, watching with keen little eyes for their
- exit and pondering with a keen little mind on their probably next move.
- </p>
- <p>
- Miss Davies was beginning to wonder if she had not overestimated the
- difficulty of talking with Mrs. Craig. Or was it the present topic that
- made it a little easier? For she had come now with no offers of food, or
- coal for the fires; but only to talk about George, to see if she and the
- young man with her might not, by giving their time and interest, make the
- search easier. And the main difficulty seemed now to be that the woman
- knew no more about it than they did.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was early last week,” she explained, speaking quietly, in a voice that
- had been brought to a dead level by habitual restraint. “He went off to
- work as usual, after dinner, and said he would be back to supper. I don't
- know where he can be. He has never been a bad boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Lizzie, now that so much trouble was going on about George, began to feel
- unusually sorrowful herself—was even moved to tears, and had to go
- into the other room and bustle about getting supper ready before she could
- bring her feelings under control.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Halloran thought the best thing would be to go out and search for
- him,” said Miss Davies. “And he thought you could help—:—” She
- turned to him and finished by saying, “Won't you explain to Mrs. Craig?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can you tell us,” he responded, “of some place in the neighbourhood that
- George has been in the habit of going to—some place where he has
- friends?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Craig shook her head. “No; when he was not working he was almost
- always at home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But he surely had acquaintances. You see, Mrs. Craig, we must have some
- place to start from.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She thought for a moment. “No; so far as I know, there was only one man in
- the neighbourhood who took the least interest in him. And he wouldn't know
- anything about this. We have not lived here so very long———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who is this man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Hoffman, on the corner. He has been kind to George, once or twice.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran rose, saying aside to Miss Davies, “I will speak to him and come
- back here,” and went out.
- </p>
- <p>
- He found a stout German behind the bar in the corner saloon who proved,
- upon inquiry, to be Hoffman himself. He was a substantial sort of man,
- speaking excellent English, and representing, if one could judge from the
- neat, well-stocked bar, the clean floor, the geraniums in the windows, and
- the general air of thrift and order, what he might have been pleased to
- call a decent saloon. Halloran began without preliminary by asking Hoffman
- if he knew George Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- The saloon-keeper rested both hands on the bar and looked across it,
- scrutinizing him closely before answering.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, there is a boy of that name around here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He disappeared from home last week and his family are worried about him.
- I have been told that you might help me find him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Hoffman shook his head, still watching him closely. “No,” he said; “I know
- nothing about him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Has he been about here at all lately?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; it is two weeks since I saw him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The honest German face had the word suspicion plainly written on it,
- Halloran saw that he was not getting at the man at all, so he leaned on
- the bar and explained himself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have come from the University Settlement. George has been at class
- there regularly until lately. His teachers believe in him and want to help
- him. They are afraid now that he has got into trouble and is afraid to
- come back. Do you know anything about it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- For reply Hoffman asked:
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is your name?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You come from the Settlement?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you seen Mrs. Craig?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have just come from there. Miss Davies, George's teacher, is with her
- now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The big man slowly turned it over in his mind. Finally he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you all I know, but it is not very much. There is another
- little boy named McGinnis who is around with him most of the time. The
- McGinnis boy worked at the ball park until the season closed last week.
- For ten days now he has been coming here for a glass of beer pretty often,
- and he always carries away the lunch. You say you want to help George?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I will tell you what I think.” He used the word “think,” but his
- expression showed that he knew pretty nearly the facts. “McGinnis has an
- uncle, a boat-builder, who has a place under the Wells Street Bridge. You
- go down there and you will learn more than I can tell you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran thanked him and returned to Miss Davies, Mrs. Craig, he found,
- was getting ready to go back to work. They were all waiting anxiously for
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think we are started right,” he said cheerily, addressing the mother.
- “I will be back later in the evening and report progress.” To Miss Davies
- he said: “You would rather wait at the Settlement, I suppose. I shan't be
- back probably before eight or nine o'clock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why,” she said in a low voice as they were passing out the door, “don't
- you want me to go with you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am afraid not. I could hardly take you prowling around the wharves at
- night.” And he told her, as they went down the stairs behind Mrs. Craig,
- what directions the saloon-keeper had given him. They were still talking
- about it when they joined the woman on the sidewalk; and then the three of
- them walked together to the second corner, talking it over and over again.
- For Mrs. Craig was beginning to discover that the young people were
- downright interested in her and in her boy. There was no gracious
- down-reaching here, no lending a kind hand to the unfortunate; but just a
- young woman who believed she could help, and a young man who knew a little
- of what it all meant; in short, here were two real persons who said little
- and meant more. She was not afraid, as she looked at them, that they would
- pray for her, loudly and zealously, kneeling on the floor of her own
- tenement rooms. And she was inclined to wonder, looking out at them across
- her own sea of troubles, what life was to hold for them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Something of this last thought got into her manner as she took their hands
- at parting; indeed, her reserve so nearly broke that she gave them—not
- singly, but the two of them together—a look that brought a faint
- blush to the young woman's cheek and to her mind other thoughts than
- George and his difficulties—-thoughts that disturbed her a little
- later when she and Halloran were walking toward the Settlement, so foolish
- and trivial were they beside the realities of the scene that had passed—thoughts
- that were resolutely put from her mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the Settlement steps she lingered a moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wish I were going with you,” she said, hesitating. “There is pride in
- the family, and George has his share of it. If you—if he should
- think you blamed him or looked down on him, he would never come back with
- you. He has always been hard to reach, and I think it is because of a
- rough sort of sensitiveness.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Was it unreasonable that she should wish to continue handling this case,
- just now when tact was so urgently needed? Or that she should give
- Halloran a hint of the best course to take with the boy?
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't blame him,” he replied. “The way to help him is to make him feel
- like somebody. If you once let him get to thinking that he is good for
- nothing he'll run down hill fast. Jimmie McGinnis, now, will take all the
- knocks you can give him, and go right on turning his pennies; he will be
- in the City Council yet.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded, for she saw that he understood. And he turned away to begin
- the search, walking over to the car-line. As he sat down in the first
- trailer a small boy ran alongside the rear car and swung himself aboard,
- hurriedly drawing in a pair of thin legs after him.
- </p>
- <p>
- Through gloomy Kinzie Street walked Halloran, when he had reached the
- river district, and after him, half a block or more, came the thin legs.
- He got to the bridge by the Northwestern Station, crossed over, and looked
- around for a means of descent to the wharves. After a moment he saw in the
- shadow of a brick building—a building that was a South Water Street
- market in front, a factory in the upper half and a tug-office behind—what
- seemed to be a break in the railing. He crossed to it and found, sure
- enough, a narrow stairway, covered with mud and slime, leading down toward
- the oily surface of the river. It was curious—he had crossed the
- bridge a hundred times, but it had never occurred to him that there was
- any life below the street, that men came and went down there on the strip
- of wharf, so narrow that it seemed little more than a fender for the
- buildings that backed on the river. Picking his way carefully to avoid
- slipping, he walked down.
- </p>
- <p>
- Not far away, in the basement of one of these buildings, was a sailors'
- grog-shop: hardly three rods from the bridge-walk, even in sight from it,
- yet so quietly tucked away below story on story of brick building, behind
- half a dozen smoking tugs, in a spot where no sober doorway, no saloon
- doorway even, had a right to be—so hidden, in fact, that not half a
- dozen of the tens of thousands of people on the bridge daily had ever
- observed it. It was a wonder how a drunken man could ever get out through
- the door without falling into the river—perhaps one did fall now and
- then. There was music in the saloon now—a squeaking fiddle and loud
- noises.
- </p>
- <p>
- Beyond, the river was splashed with red and white and green from lanterns
- and side-lights; and a dozen masts, their spars and rigging apparently
- interlaced, were outlined against the western sky. At the moment a big
- freighter, bound out, was headed for the draw, forging slowly and almost
- silently down the sluggish stream, passing along like some dim modern
- Flying Dutchman. Above, on the bridge, cars were rumbling and footsteps
- were pattering—the feet of the late suburbanites hurrying to their
- trains. All Chicago was alive and bustling above him and around him; but
- here, at the end of a crooked passage, was a quiet spot—a shop
- filled with boats, completed and uncompleted; and sprawled on his stomach
- behind one of the boats, a cigarette in his mouth, an Old Sleuth story
- spread on the boards before him, a candle stuck in a beer bottle at his
- elbow, was a boy, who was trying to believe that he was, in spite of cold
- feet and sniffling nose, really tough and comfortable.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, George,” said Halloran, “how's business?”
- </p>
- <p>
- George started, turned pale, and hastily took the cigarette from his
- mouth; then remembering his independence, he as hastily put it back.
- Halloran sat down on the stem of a ship's boat and filled his pipe.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Davies and I heard you were in hard luck,” he went on, “and I
- thought I'd look you up and see what's the matter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- George had not been able to speak until now. He sat up, pulled doggedly a
- moment at his cigarette, and said in a very sulky tone:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who told you I was here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran would have been glad to answer him, but as it fell out no reply
- was necessary. For just as he was pausing to light his pipe a step was
- heard in the passage and a wizened-faced boy appeared in the outer circle
- of the candle-light.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was Jimmie, eyeing Halloran with distrust, glancing apologetically at
- George, more disturbed, in fact, than Halloran had yet seen him. To him
- now George turned a reproachful face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I never done it, George,” said Jimmie. “I'd a-busted first. He went
- around to old Hoffman and he put him onto my uncle. I see him go in there
- and I followed him up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's right, George,” Halloran put in by way of seconding Jimmie. “We
- couldn't get a word out of him. It was your mother that sent me to
- Hoffman. But I've come down to talk with you, and I'm not sorry that
- Jimmie is here. Now, what's the trouble? Tell me about it; and then I will
- see what we can do for you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The two boys looked at each other. George had been told so often by
- certain Settlement workers never to smoke, never to read bad books, never
- to be seen in company with beer bottles, he had supposed that of course
- these things would be the first subjects under discussion; and the
- omission disconcerted him. Jimmie, meanwhile, being the shrewder of the
- two, was signaling him to go ahead and spit it out. So he began, in a
- blundering, sullen sort of a way; stumbled, blushed and stopped. Finally
- Jimmie had to take it up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see, it's just this way. George's folks was getting down pretty close
- to the boards, and they was the rent coming, and George he had his week's
- pay, but it wasn't enough, so I just told him”—very patronizing
- here, was Jimmie, as became a young capitalist who had once clasped the
- hand of Captain Anson—“I told him to give it to me and I'd put it up
- on the Washington game, with a little wad of my own. It was an easy mark,
- 'cause the Washingtons were tail-enders, and I had hold of their mascot,
- and he was willing to put up even. It was like taking the money out of his
- pocket, but a man can't throw away a chance like that—and then I'll
- be damned if Billy Connors didn't up and throw the game.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a hell of a pitcher,” was George's comment, spoken with a sidelong
- glance at Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never you mind,” said Jimmie, “Watson 'll never sign him again, after a
- trick like that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Rather an interesting situation this—an odd confusing of good
- motives with bad—an amusing symptom of good feeling in speculator
- Jimmie, to be taking up the support of a young man who had been ruined
- through his advice. He would doubtless get over it as he grew older. If
- every man were to feel the same responsibility, what a wreck it would make
- of our institutions! What a scrambling there would be in Wall Street, in
- La Salle Street! Incipient socialism this—a bad thing, very bad!
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran nodded and smiled a little. “I know,” he said. “We're all of us
- likely to fall down now and then. I don't know as I should have done just
- that, though. A man can't afford to gamble unless he can afford to lose;
- and there aren't many such men. I'm not sure there are any.” He smiled
- again—he knew just how George felt, just about what he was thinking
- behind that clouded face. “But now the question is, how are we going to
- fix you up again? You can't stay here. How much did you lose?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again it was Jimmie that answered, “Three fifty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran thought for a moment, doing some sums in his head; then he took a
- purse from his pocket and counted out the money.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, George,” he said, “this is a loan. I know you're square, and I'm
- willing to take your word for it. There is no hurry; but some day, when
- you feel you can, you may pay it back. We needn't either of us say
- anything about it.” George's expression was changing every moment; but he
- took the money. “Suppose we go back to the house now, George. You will
- find your mother and sister mighty glad to see you. And Miss Davies is
- waiting at the Settlement to hear about you. She has worried a good deal.
- Then Monday we will see if we can't get the factory to give you another
- trial.”
- </p>
- <p>
- George's armour was not proof against such an attack as this. He got up,
- put the story in his pocket, and lighted Halloran and Jimmie along the
- passage with his candle; then he snuffed it out and put it in his pocket,
- threw the bottle into the river and followed the two others up the
- stairway to the street.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV—The End of the Beginning
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">B</span>ending over a book
- sat Halloran, both elbows on the table, the fingers of both hands run
- through his hair. The book lay open, and spread out on the leaves was a
- note from Miss Davies; in part this ran as follows:
- </p>
- <p>
- “. . . George is to have another trial at the box-factory. They seem
- willing to be kind to him, but Mr. ———— says
- emphatically that he will not be taken back a second time. But I have
- confidence in him, and particularly in your influence.. . .
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you all about it when you next come up to the house. I am
- more grateful than you know—indeed, we all are—for your. . .”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had made a discovery. Had he been given to self-scrutiny it would
- have come earlier; and it would then have been a little easier to face.
- But this way of thinking would not help him now; it had not come earlier,
- it was difficult, and the question lay before him: should he make that
- next visit to the house or not?
- </p>
- <p>
- He glanced up at his nickel alarm-clock and saw that it was time to go on
- watch; so he put on his sweater and oilskins and sou'wester, blew out his
- lamp and walked across the Sheridan road to the station.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was nearly four years since he had taken care of the Davies's furnace
- and slept in their barn. That had been in his days of “subbing” for a crew
- position, and he had not been a boy even then; he had entered college at
- twenty-two. Since then, thanks to his salary as a surfman in the pay of
- the Treasury Department, he had got along rather better; he was no longer
- the traditional poor student. He was not ashamed of his struggles, nor
- especially proud of them; he was inclined to think that struggling is not
- in itself particularly commendable; that it is success that counts. He
- knew that Mrs. Davies and her daughter had followed his work with
- interest, and he was grateful for it. “Grateful!”—there was the word
- that he stuck at. For, after all, had there not been from the start an
- element of patronage in their kindness to him? “Kindness” another word
- that hurt.
- </p>
- <p>
- Number Six was “punching” the watchman's clock that always hung just
- within the station door.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hallo,” he said to Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hallo.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wet night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, rather.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Better keep an eye on that light off the long pier. She's running in
- pretty close, I think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right; good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Number Six disappeared in the dark of the road, bound for bed; and
- Halloran pulled his sweater up around his neck and fell to pacing the
- veranda. The surf was booming on the beach below; the rain was cutting in
- toward the land. Out beyond the breakers were lights—a line of them
- along the horizon.
- </p>
- <p>
- The time had come to look ahead. In another six months his college course
- would be completed; his playtime would be over; realities lay beyond—downright
- realities that surround a man, that show clear through him, that bear him
- down and under unless he be made of stronger stuff than they. Wits were
- needed, and judgment; the determination that goes against things, not with
- them. There would be no making up of cuts, out there in the world, no
- special examinations; a man must look higher than the faculty there.
- Mistakes would be hard to rectify, perhaps could never be rectified, where
- a man was already nearer thirty than twenty. He decided not to make that
- next call.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- BOOK — PINE
- </h2>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—A Decision to Fight
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he little city of
- Wauchung straggled over and between and almost burrowed under a chain of
- sand-hills—shining yellow hills with tops entirely bald save for a
- spear of rank grass here and there or a dwarfed pine. Outside the mouth of
- the river was Lake Michigan; behind the little city were the pine forests
- of the Lower Peninsula. And the one interesting object of this whole
- region was a man—for houses and shops were commonplace, streets were
- ill-paved, the railroad was wanting in energy and capital, the inhabitants
- were mostly leveled down to the colourless monotony of the sand-hills—a
- man named Martin L. Higginson.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0018.jpg" alt="0018 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0018.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- There was one imposing building of granite and red bricks on the business
- street—a glance showed the name of Higginson over the entrance. Two
- large mills stood by the river, surrounded by piles of lumber on the land,
- fronted by rafts of logs in the water, sending out their droning hum all
- day long (and frequently all night long); inside, men were bustling and
- pushing in the effort to keep up with the drive of work outside, the long
- runways were active with men and with moving lumber—and on each of
- the mills was the name Higginson. Two steamers lay at the Higginson
- wharves—lake carriers, both, of the Higginson line. A logging
- railroad ran back some twenty miles into the forest; it ran over Higginson
- land to Higginson land, to bring what logs the little river could not
- bring—for the Higginson property extended far to north, south and
- eastward. There was, in fact, one rich man in the little city—one
- man who had done what he could to keep the railroad busy, to keep the
- harbour dredged, to keep the streets in better condition, to make Wauchung
- a real city, awake, energetic, proud—one man who represented
- Wauchung to the outside world: Mr. Higginson.
- </p>
- <p>
- An elderly gentleman he was, a man who had passed the fighting age, who
- would have stopped to rest any time these last six or eight years if the
- business had permitted it; but it had stood until recently that the one
- man in Wauchung who did not take his vacation every year was Mr.
- Higginson. As it often falls out, however, one of his severest misfortunes
- had brought its blessing. For five years and more he had looked for a man,
- for the man, whom he could trust to take up the burden that was beginning
- to weigh so heavily; and for five years he had failed. He liked young
- Crosman, the head clerk in the office; but Crosman, though welcome enough
- at the house as Mamie Higginson's regular caller, hardly showed
- administrative qualities—his limitations were marked. And so the
- search had gone on: he had tried them, young “men and middle-aged men”—and
- he had found that all of them wanted money, and none of them wanted work.
- And what he had to offer was work, little else—hard work, work for
- head and hands, much thinking of the business, little thinking of self:
- the spirit that would live for the business, that would take its pride in
- the quality of the Higginson work, that would strive, as he had striven,
- to make the name of Higginson a synonym for honest work, work done on
- time, work done a little better than the contract demanded. Where could he
- find a man like this?
- </p>
- <p>
- And then, after five years, through a shipwreck of all occurrences, he had
- found him. He knew him at once, as he had thought he should. Looking down
- from the heights of character and accomplishments, on a world of little
- persons, foolish persons, earnest, weak persons, dishonest persons,
- pompous, empty persons—all the sorts that go to make up a man's
- world, and nearly all that he is likely to see, unfortunately, from the
- heights—looking out and down and all about, he had seen a young
- man's head and shoulders climbing up above the rabble. The young man had
- not yet climbed very high; but he was climbing, and that was enough. So
- Mr. Higginson had come to think more lightly of the rheumatism, the
- failing eyes, the many signs of age that had been brought sharply to his
- notice by that shock and exposure on the west coast.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the time of this chapter, Mr. Higginson and Halloran were seated in the
- office—Halloran before his desk, Mr. Higginson beside it—looking
- at a typewritten letter or statement. Twenty-four hours earlier Mr.
- William H. Babcock, of G. Hyde Bigelow & Company, had taken the train
- for Chicago, leaving this document behind him; and now the time had come
- to answer it.
- </p>
- <p>
- This was the culmination of a long series of letters and interviews. The
- beginning had been when this same Mr. Babcock had endeavoured to buy the
- Wauchung mills in the interest of Mr. Bigelow. It seemed that Mr. Bigelow
- was about to enter the lumber business. His genius for combination, for
- exploitation, was to be given a new direction. Kentucky Coal, New
- Freighters, Northwest Chicago, all his various interests were prospering,
- thanks to the name of Bigelow, and now the lumber business was to be
- vitalized, to be vivified. Just how it was to be done, or what was to be
- done, was not known; that secret was kept close in the Bigelow office.
- Each newspaper published its own version, to be believed or disbelieved at
- the discretion of the reader. All Mr. Higginson knew was that the Bigelow
- firm could never buy him out, that he had not spent his years in building
- up a business for the benefit of Mr. Bigelow. The business was his life,
- and he meant to keep it for himself and his family and his legitimate
- successors. So the first refusal had been a simple matter—a plain,
- emphatic no had sufficed.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then for a time there had been silence; until one day Halloran learned
- that the Pewaukoe Lumber Company, twenty-odd miles up the shore, had
- succumbed to the blandishments of the low-voiced Mr. Babcock, and had sold
- out mills, standing timber and all. It had not been a prosperous company,
- thanks to the shiftless management of the children of the original owner;
- but there was no reason why it should not do well in good hands. There was
- no question now that, whatever he meant to do next, Mr. Bigelow had a
- footing in the lumber trade, and Halloran had been watching him closely.
- </p>
- <p>
- The document on the desk was a statement of the “understanding” or secret
- agreement that was henceforth to be law among the lumber producers of Lake
- Michigan. It had been presented and accompanied with much confidential
- talk from Mr. Babcock—all tending to show that the lumbermen, with
- the sole exception of Mr. Higginson, were already united to forward this
- agreement, that the business would be organized as never before, that
- great economies would be brought about in the carrying side of the trade,
- that the strain of competition' would be avoided, that prices would be
- maintained at a somewhat higher figure (a main point, this) under penalty
- of fines, that—much more low talk and friendly disinterested
- confidences. For their interests were identical, said Mr. Babcock; and
- there was room for them all. Efficiency was the keyword—efficiency,
- productiveness, economy, identity of interests, good prices. And lastly
- there had been friendly, almost deferential intimations that G. Hyde
- Bigelow & Company held the key to the situation, that the combination
- was already a fact, and that a firm which might decide to stay out must
- take the consequences.
- </p>
- <p>
- Simplified, the whole matter came to this: Within the combination,
- prosperity in plenty, but always subject to the guiding judgment of G.
- Hyde Bigelow, hence a certain loss of identity and of control to
- self-respecting heads of companies; without the combination, a fight to a
- finish against the combined power and momentum of Bigelow & Company
- and the “Lumber Trust.” Just how great was this momentum no one exactly
- knew: but Bigelow was a magic name, no doubt of it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?” said Mr. Higginson.
- </p>
- <p>
- His voice was disturbed and his expression showed worry and trouble. For a
- year Mr. Higginson had been changing, very slightly but none the less
- perceptibly to one as close to him, day after day, as Halloran was. Until
- he had assured himself that his assistant was able to take up the burden,
- he had kept up; but after that moment he had seemed, in a measure, to let
- go. On routine matters he was as strong as ever, but his mind refused to
- work automatically through new problems; there were sometimes gaps in his
- reasoning that he found it difficult to bridge over, and this worried him.
- So it had come about that a tacit agreement existed between the older man
- and the younger, that in questions where vigour was needed, of body or
- mind, the younger man should take the lead; and Mr. Higginson mildly
- deceived himself by giving more attention than formerly to routine matters
- and trivial details. It was Halloran, therefore, who had spent the better
- part of a night thinking out this question, whether to yield or fight. And
- it was Mr. Higginson, naturally enough, who had put the question:
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have gone over it, have you, Mr. Halloran?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. The Bigelow part of it is what I like least. I am not sure that he
- is just the man you would want to stand responsible for this business, and
- therefore he certainly is not the man to take charge of all the companies
- together—and that is pretty nearly what this paper means.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why do you think that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, he isn't solid. He's been lucky, and just now he's on the top of
- the wave. But his interests and investments are spread out so wide that a
- run of bad luck might upset him. I don't know that it would, but it might.
- And then I have seen a little of him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know him personally?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. I cut his grass for two summers in Evanston, and did odd jobs for
- him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson pondered, and Halloran went on: “On the other hand, his
- resources are large, and if we decide to stand out it may mean a long,
- hard fight. It might be harder than we think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson was still thinking hard, forcing his mind to take up one
- phase of the question after another; and the worried expression, so
- frequently on his face nowadays, was more noticeable than ever. Finally he
- said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you are in favour of declining to join the combination?”
- </p>
- <p>
- This was the direct question that Halloran had partly foreseen. He
- hesitated, marking at random with a pencil while his thoughts came fast.
- At this moment he saw more clearly than he had seen at any time during the
- night what a refusal would mean. Wealthy as Mr. Higginson was, his wealth
- lay in the lumber lands, the logging railroad, in the mills and the
- steamers, and in Wauchung property; to a certain extent the whole town of
- Wauchung had grown up around Mr. Higginson and was directly or indirectly
- dependent upon him; and all these interests, hanging as they did on the
- lumber business, must suffer when this business was attacked. But he
- caught himself—if he ran on into this way of thinking he was lost.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” he replied; “I think we had better decline.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson arose.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will leave the letter to you,” he said; and then went out with a face
- that seemed to express downright-dread. Honest old gentleman, he had
- thought to take a rest; and instead he found himself facing the hardest
- fight of his career.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran took up his pen and made the attitude of Higginson & Company
- plain in three lines.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—Under Way
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>n the parlour of
- the Higginson home, one evening shortly after the incident of the last
- chapter, sat Mrs. Higginson and her daughter, with expressions hardly
- significant of an intense joy in life. In the library, talking earnestly
- behind closed doors, were Mr. Higginson and Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Mr. Halloran, what is it?” had begun the head of the firm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The fight is on. I got the first word of it to-day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson bowed slightly and waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bigelow has cut the price down below cost.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It took a moment for the older man to grasp the meaning of this.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Below cost?” he repeated.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; it's going to be a question of endurance.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But we have some large orders on hand. They will keep us busy for awhile.
- How does the Carroll & Condit lumber stand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's about half cut out.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can go ahead with it, then, for this week. And after that the
- Michigan City contract will keep us busy for awhile.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Carroll & Condit business is what brought me here to-night. Here
- is a letter from them.” Halloran laid it on the table. “They offer us a
- chance to meet the new price before they place their order elsewhere.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Gradually the meaning of Halloran's words had been sinking into Mr.
- Higginson's mind; the relations of cause and effect had been clearing
- before him. He looked the letter over silently, twice, three times.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I—I can hardly believe this———” He saw that this
- was useless talk and he stopped. It had been a verbal order from Carroll,
- a man whom he had reason to hold as the soul of honour; the price had been
- stated and agreed to, precisely as for twenty years back; everything had
- been satisfactory. Good Mr. Higginson had been the victim of a delusion.
- After half a century of struggle he had allowed himself to believe that
- the fight was about over, that his personal achievement meant something;
- that he could stand securely on the heights. He had forgotten that
- Business is Business, that Time is Money and Money Talks; he had forgotten
- that the glorious old world was spinning along, as heedless as ever, after
- the ever-receding glitter, and that there could be no stopping until the
- last great stop should be reached.
- </p>
- <p>
- “From what I can gather,” said Halloran, “they mean to fight us all along
- the line. The Michigan City contract, I think, is good. We have it down in
- black and white, and we can make the delivery in our own steamers; but we
- should have to use the railroads for most of our other orders, and I'm
- afraid we can't do it.” He disliked this hammering one trouble after
- another into the old gentleman's aching head, but it had to be done. “I'm
- quite sure that Bigelow has influence with the railroads, and of course he
- will use it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson was thinking—thinking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How much—” he was still thinking, desperately raking his facts
- together and facing what seemed like chaos—“how much is this going
- to cost us, Mr. Halloran?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's too early to tell. He must show his hand before we can plan our
- game. He's beginning now, and before he gets through, by ———,
- we'll smash him. We'll make him feel like a whipped coach-dog every time
- he passes a lumber pile.” Halloran was getting so excited he had to get up
- and pace the carpet. “I know the man; I know his meanness and his vanity.
- I've worked for him, and I've seen him off his guard, and I know his
- insolence. Before we get through with him he'll wish he had gone into a
- bucket-shop, where he belongs, and stayed there, the damned old bloated
- frog of a tin-horn gambler. Let him wreck his Kentucky Coal and his New
- Freighters all he pleases, but he'll get a bellyful if he tries to wreck
- the lumber business.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He stopped short, looked around at the dark, olive-tinted walls, at the
- stately row of books in their morocco and calf and yellow and red and
- gold; looked at the rich carpet and the restful chairs and at the soft
- light of the polished student-lamp; looked last at Mr. Higginson—and
- felt a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. What had he said?
- </p>
- <p>
- Somewhere in Halloran's make-up, deep-hidden beneath the laborious years
- of work and study, lay a well, a spouting, roaring geyser of profanity. It
- had come into the world with him; it had been richly fed during his rough,
- knockabout boyhood; and now, in spite of the weights he had put on it, a
- year or two of Michigan lumbermen had been enough to prime it.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson was still thinking—thinking. The facts were before him
- now; at last he had penetrated to them and brought them together. And he
- was facing them—meeting them squarely without flinching. Quietly he
- sat, one elbow on the green-topped table, his hand shading his eyes; and
- the lamplight fell gently on his head. He was facing the question of
- himself, of his ability to conduct his own business; and another question,
- granting that he was unable, whether he could, in his best judgment, place
- everything he had in the world—his business, his family, himself—in
- the hands of this man and bid him Godspeed in his work. So he sat thinking—thinking;
- and Halloran, a little abashed, but angry still, dropped into a chair and
- waited. At last the old gentleman spoke—in a low, changed voice.
- “Mr. Halloran, I have not been well lately; and I think it best—to
- tell you that—for the present the business is in your hands. I will
- stay here and advise with you, but—I do not wish you to feel
- hampered by my presence in carrying on this fight. I am laying a heavy
- responsibility on you—but I think—I trust you will be equal to
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson's part of the fight was over; and he had won.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Higginson was playing clock at the centre-table. She was a wiry
- little woman, capable of great exertion and showing remarkable endurance
- when set on some purpose, such as a shopping trip to Chicago; but
- suffering at other times from languor, and low spirits, and in constant
- need of medical attendance.
- </p>
- <p>
- She had never been able to understand why “Mr. H.” should insist on
- burying himself in the lumber business, when he was plenty rich enough to
- sell out and take her and her daughter forth from the slumberous quiet of
- Wauchung into the stir of the world. Such stupidity, such meanness of
- ideals (to pass over the injustice to herself—<i>she</i> was
- nothing; <i>she</i> didn't count) was out of her ken. And in the second
- place, her heart had been set for three seasons on a trip to Hot Springs;
- and even if Mr. H.'s plainness of character were to hold his interests in
- Wauchung in spite of her known desires, he certainly owed it to her to
- give her an outing for a few months. She had borne a great deal for him—but
- never mind. Doctor Brown would sympathize with her, anyway—would
- bring her medicine every day if she were but so much as to drop a hint.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mamie had been trying to read a novel; but being herself the meek centre
- of a tremendous little drama, she found it difficult to focus her
- attention.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ma,” she said, after a time, “don't you think pa looks a little run
- down?” This was a euphemism; there was no question that Mr. Higginson was
- looking very bad indeed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “A little, perhaps,” replied her mother. At that moment, the three-o'clock
- pile being prematurely completed, she gave up “Clock” in disgust and
- shuffled her cards for the thirteen game.
- </p>
- <p>
- Presently she said, “My head has ached hard all day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This was encouraging. Mamie took up her book again; but not for long.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you suppose he is worrying about the business, ma? He and Mr. Halloran
- are working almost every night now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose so,” Mrs. Higginson replied. “It would have been better for him
- if he had taken my advice five years ago and retired. Your father has no
- time to think of us, my dear.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mamie felt some injustice in this and would have dropped the subject had
- not her mother, roused to it, pushed on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He says himself that Mr. Halloran has shown himself able to run the
- business, and yet he will not go away even for a week. I think if we could
- only get him off for a short time he would want to stay, once he had made
- up his mind to it.” At this moment the library door opened and the two men
- could be heard in the hall. Mrs. Higginson's face brightened. “Play
- something for me, my dear,” she said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, ma. They are just coming in here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who? Are they? Play the march Mr. Halloran likes so much.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mamie went obediently to the piano and was crashing out the opening chords
- when the two men reached the parlour door. Mrs. Higginson rose and
- extended her hand with a bright smile. Mamie showed signs of stopping, but
- Halloran nodded to her to go on, and dropped into a chair. Mrs. Higginson
- came over and sat down by him, leaving her cards in disorder on the table.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I had just asked Mamie to play for me before you came in,” she said,
- pitching her voice somewhat above the noise of the march. “I always like
- to hear her play when I have one of my headaches. It seems to make me
- forget myself for a little while. And I really think she plays very well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes; Halloran thought so, too.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am not one of your cultivated musicians, but I know what I like. And
- that is all anybody can know, I guess. Only most people aren't honest
- enough to say so. I have had a severe headache all day. It was in the back
- of my head, just where I had one last Thursday; and if I hadn't happened
- to have some of the pills left over that Doctor Brown brought for me the
- last time, I don't know what I should have done. One does hate so to give
- up. I have always said to my husband: 'No, Mr. H., I will <i>not</i> give
- up; I will <i>not</i> go to bed and acknowledge myself an invalid. Thank
- goodness I have pride enough left for that.'” Here the doorbell claimed
- her attention for a moment. “Well, here is Harry Crosman. He is such a
- good boy, we are all so fond of him. And then for a long time”—very
- confidentially, this—“he was really almost the only company there
- was for Mamie, and we were glad to have him drop around on her account.
- The people in Wauchung are so—so—well, I'm sure you
- understand. It was pleasant for the dear girl. I don't suppose he is ever
- going to astonish the world, but we are always glad to see him.
- Good-evening, Harry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this greeting the newcomer took a chair, and found himself just in time
- to hear Mrs. Higgin-son, keyed up to extra exertions by the music and the
- company, bring all her artillery to bear on her husband.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Mr. Halloran, I'm just going to appeal to you if Mr. H. isn't
- working too hard. Don't <i>you</i> think it is time he took a little
- vacation———”
- </p>
- <p>
- She stopped short, for the long-suffering Mr. H. had turned on her with
- downright impatience.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't let me hear any more of that talk,” he said sharply; then, almost
- before the last word was out of his mouth, he abruptly excused himself and
- left the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- He left silence behind him, and some little consternation; and Halloran,
- seeing on Mrs. Higgin-son's face the signs of a storm, excused himself,
- too, leaving Crosman to weather it as best he might.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—Tightening the Blockade
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>r. Babcock had
- come in early this morning, depositing a small traveling-bag behind the
- door of his office, and then looking at his watch to see if Mr. Bigelow
- were not about due. Somewhat travel-stained was Mr. Babcock, as a glance
- at the mirror told him; and there was time to wash and change his linen
- before his senior should arrive.
- </p>
- <p>
- Shortly entered Mr. Bigelow, pausing within the threshold.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-morning, Mr. Babcock. Did you find Michigan City still on the map?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Babcock, giving a last flick at his coat-collar before the mirror,
- turned, listened, and laughed at his senior's little jest. The
- stenographer, sitting in her corner by the window, smiled and giggled.
- Young men at desks in the outer office snickered and chuckled over their
- books. The round-eyed office-boy tee-heed outright, and then, covered with
- fright and confusion, disappeared behind the water-cooler as the head of
- the firm passed on to the inner office.
- </p>
- <p>
- The arrival of Mr. Babcock with a traveling-bag was, it seemed, to be
- considered important; more important even than the heap of letters that
- lay ready opened on the mahogany desk. For now Mr. Babcock had been
- summoned, the stenographer had been dismissed to some work in the outer
- office, and Mr. Bigelow, closely attentive, and Mr. Babcock, with much to
- communicate in that low voice of his, were settling down to consider a
- problem.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The price appealed to them,” Mr. Babcock was saying, “but they are afraid
- of Higginson. They admit it. Higginson, they say, has their written order
- to cut out the timber at the old price. Higginson, on his part, has agreed
- to deliver the entire bill, two hundred thousand feet or more, at the
- wharf at Michigan City, by the fourteenth of this month.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow's eyes strayed to his desk calendar.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” went on Mr. Babcock, “to-day's the eleventh. That gives us three
- days to stop it in.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this point there was an interruption. As had happened once before when
- these two gentlemen were talking, the door opened and the small office-boy
- appeared, catching his breath hurriedly before getting out the words:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lady t' see y'u, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A decisive utterance was hanging on Mr. Bigelow's lips; a hand was raised
- to make it more emphatic, but the lips closed and the hand fell.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will excuse me, Mr. Babcock?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I shall be engaged only a moment.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The discreet Mr. Babcock withdrew, and the head of the firm, with a glance
- at the heap of letters still untouched, turned, without rising, toward the
- door. There was a curious expression on his face, the expression of a man
- who feels himself at last in a position to cut knots, who knows that he
- commands the situation. A person who might choose to break in on such a
- weighty conference this morning need not be surprised at summary
- treatment. And as the woman entered and softly closed the door he leaned a
- little forward and drew his brows together, his whole appearance saying
- plainly: “My time is short, madam. Speak to the point.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The woman faltered and waited for his question. He said not a word. She
- started to speak, but seemed unable to break through this heavy silence.
- He waited, his brows coming down more and more. And at last, when the
- words did pass her lips, they were not at all what she had meant to say.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have tried not to come to you again. God knows how it hurts me. But I
- had to come. I was turned out of the New York Store ten days ago, without
- warning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Once started, she was finding it a little easier to go on; but Mr.
- Bigelow, carrying the weight of millions on his shoulders, dealing hourly
- with questions of importance, greater or less, to the whole commercial
- world, had no time now—kind as he may have been in the more
- leisurely past—to waste on trivial matters. He had given the woman a
- chance; was he to blame for her failure? Did “not potential success exist
- within every human being? Was any man to blame for the shipwreck of
- another?
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know nothing about that,” he cut in shortly and finally. “There is no
- use in bringing your story here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She quailed before him. “But I have a right—the law——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The law is yours to use. If you think it will help you, use it.” He rose,
- opened the door, and bowed her out. And she, baffled, humiliated, at the
- end of her resources, went out without a word, crossed the hall as
- steadily as any young stenographer, stepped into the elevator with a
- composed face, and out into the street—and all this while there was
- nothing to mark her out from a thousand other ill-dressed women; nothing
- to show that her hopes were gone; simply a plain woman on La Salle Street,
- quietly walking—where? Where could she walk now? Were there still
- depths to sound, or had she reached the bottom?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Babcock!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The junior partner came out from his own private office at the sound of
- his senior's voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were saying,” said Mr. Bigelow, taking up the thread where they had
- laid it down, “that Higginson & Company have agreed to deliver the
- timber by the fourteenth. Now, of course, a blockade, to be effective,
- must be complete.” This was self-evident to Mr. Babcock.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so long as these people are free to deliver lumber the blockade is
- not complete. What is your plan regarding this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The Michigan City people, as I said, are afraid of Higginson. But they
- will accept our price the minute we can show them that they're safe in
- doing it. They received a letter from Higginson's manager yesterday
- stating that the Higginson steamer, with the timber, will reach Michigan
- City on the night of the thirteenth or the morning of the fourteenth. That
- means that it will be ready for loading on the twelfth—to-morrow—and
- that the steamer will start the morning of the thirteenth. Now, it's not
- hard to imagine a delay that would keep the Higginson manager from getting
- the boat off in time. And if he fails to deliver, we are promised the
- order.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you mean to do this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Babcock glanced around in that cautious way of' his, leaned forward,
- and buzzed along rapidly for a few moments, his eyes keen with eagerness.
- The senior partner listened closely and slowly nodded, to show that he
- understood. Even Mr. Bigelow, as we have seen, was not wholly free from
- annoyance. Head of the Lumber Trust was Mr. Bigelow, but not,
- unfortunately, sole owner of the Lumber Trust. Fighting is expensive; and
- voting heads of constituent companies are sometimes unreasonable about
- expenses. Mr. Bigelow was skilful and resourceful; he knew well how to
- paint rainbows that should dazzle even the hard-headed, hard-fisted old
- lumbermen of Michigan; he understood how to make it plain that money spent
- in defeating Higginson would come back threefold when the defeat was over,
- and the price up where it should be, and the “economies” of the trust in
- working order; he was shrewd, and he knew that the sooner Higginson could
- be run out of business the better it would be for him (to say nothing of
- the trust and its directors). And so it was indeed important that the
- blockade should be made effective. The railroads were practically closed
- to Higginson now, his customers were to be had for the buying, but the
- steamers of the Higginson line were still afloat and ready to deliver
- Higginson lumber at contract prices. The Michigan City contract was not a
- matter of money; there was a principle at stake. Higginson <i>must not</i>
- deliver that lumber on the fourteenth!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very good,” he said, nodding again. “Have you the right man for this
- work?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Buzz—buzz—from Mr. Babcock. More words from Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You will have to move quickly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I am off now,” and the junior partner headed for the traveling-bag,
- feeling in his pocket for a time-table.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV—Mr. Babcock Breakfasts Late
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he thirteenth was
- a storm-centre at Wauchung. At six in the morning, while Mr. William H.
- Babcock was sleeping peacefully in a Grand Rapids hotel, dreaming sweet
- dreams and smiling childlike smiles, conscious even in slumberland that
- his work was accomplished; while the Martin L. Higginson No. 1 was lying
- at the Higginson wharves with two hundred and fifteen thousand feet of
- lumber aboard, Halloran was up and tumbling into his clothes. Captain
- Craig, master of the Higginson No. 1, was sitting grimly on the corner of
- the bed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know the man?” Halloran was asking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did he say whom he was acting for?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- At seven o'clock the No. 1. should be leaving the harbour; but here was
- her master sitting on Halloran's bed, his seamed old face set hard with
- the thoughts that were boiling behind it. Down by the mills, where the
- first early risers were lounging in, where the lumber piles stretching far
- along the wharves were glistening yellow under the light of the new sun,
- all was quiet even to the steamer, whose stoke-room was cold, whose
- boilers were giving out no sounds of preparation for the twelve-hour
- journey. Over at Grand Rapids Mr. Babcock was still sleeping the sleep of
- the just, dreaming once more that his man had come in by a late train to
- report that all was well at Wauchung. And still Halloran was jerking
- himself into his clothes, pulling on his old purple sweater rather than
- waste time over collar and tie.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he said; “I'm ready.” Then he paused. The next move was not
- to be settled offhand. “You went around to Billy's house, Captain?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I've just come from there. The way that fellow talked bothered me so
- last night that I couldn't sleep much. I got to thinking it over after I'd
- gone to bed, and it struck me that if he wanted to cripple the line he'd
- hardly stop at me. He'd go for Billy sure, for a good engineer isn't an
- easy man to replace. And they tell me Billy hasn't been seen at his
- boarding-house since noon yesterday.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Very true, Captain Craig! A good suggestion just now when Halloran is
- still shaking the sleep from his eyes and trying to get these amazing
- facts in hand, and to relate them with certain suspicions that rose at the
- first word. It will probably occur to Halloran, when once he shall get
- facts, suspicions and all firmly gripped in his mind, that heads of trusts
- do not fight haphazard; that if certain deliveries of timber are to be
- prevented heads of trusts are not accustomed to move in vain. It is Mr.
- Bigelow's habit to arrive at results: no getting off at way-stations for
- G. Hyde Bigelow; and obstinate persons who venture on open warfare with
- the Great must shake the sleep out very early in the morning if they hope
- to reach even a way-station along the Bigelow line. Steamers cannot be run
- without engineers: engineers cannot be had for the whistling in far-away
- Michigan ports with but forty hours of grace—forty valuable hours
- not a whit longer than other everyday hours; even shorter—hours that
- were diminishing, were growing more valuable, would soon be precious.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How much did this man offer you?” Halloran asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Five hundred a year more salary and a bonus of five hundred extra, cash
- down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did he show the money?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He had a big roll.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Meant business, didn't he?” said Halloran dryly. “First thing we do, we'd
- better go down and see if we have anybody left. Then we can talk better.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So they went down to the wharves, where they found a few wandering
- deckhands by the silent steamer. Evidently deckhands were not important to
- trusts.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess Billy took the bait,” Halloran observed. “He is never as late as
- this, is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, there is only one thing to do next, Captain. We've got to get her
- down to Michigan City before to-morrow night whether the Trust likes it or
- not. Do you suppose they've gobbled up the tug men, too?”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was not a hard fact to discover, for there were only two tugs in the
- harbour; and sure enough, when, twenty minutes later, the manager for
- Higginson & Company and the Captain of the No. 1 met again on the
- wharf, they were both beginning to understand how clean a sweep the Trust
- people had made of it. The Captain was growing angrier every minute, and
- so was Halloran. The rascality of it was what aroused the Captain. Waters
- and winds he could understand, but the ways of men were beyond him. Two
- days before, in Chicago, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow had announced that Higginson
- & Company must not make the delivery at Michigan City; and this
- resulting moment, with Halloran sitting on the iron cap of a snubbing-post
- and the Captain standing silent before him, was a very dark moment for the
- Wauchung interests.
- </p>
- <p>
- “The damned old rascal,” said Halloran, reflectively.
- </p>
- <p>
- Craig's dull eye suddenly flashed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I ought to have foreseen it,” he burst out. “It's the kind of thing to
- expect from that Bigelow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,” replied Halloran; “that's what I've been saying to myself. This is
- a pretty fair sample of Bigelow's methods.” He was chagrined to think that
- it could be done so easily. He had thought of anything, everything, but
- this.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd like to set Bigelow's head on that pile of two-by-fours,” Halloran
- went on, “and have about three shots at him. I don't believe he'd know
- himself the next time he looked in the glass.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain glanced at him mistrustfully. He liked this manager, but this
- was not the time for jokes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you ever see him?” asked Halloran, swinging a leg on each side of the
- snubbing-post and letting a twinkle come into his eyes as his thoughts
- seemed to run on Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain sighed an impatient negative.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a big, vain man. You ought to see him come into church Sunday
- mornings and swell down the aisle, with his wife and children trotting
- after him. He's proud of being thought the big financial man in the
- church; and whenever they'll let him he gets up after the sermon and makes
- a speech about the church debts. Great temperance man, too—likes to
- preside at prohibition meetings and plead for the sanctity of the home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Captain Craig was scowling. Every moment the situation was growing more
- serious; and here was the manager of the company, sitting on a
- snubbing-post and swinging his legs. Men were needed now, thought the
- Captain angrily—grown men, not children.
- </p>
- <p>
- “One spring house-cleaning time—I generally put in the early
- mornings and evenings there—G. Hyde called me in—I was putting
- down the hall rugs just then—he called me in to light the gas. I had
- a match ready to strike and he reached over and took it away from me and
- put it back in the box. 'Young man,' he said—he never liked to
- remember my name—'do you know how I rose from nothing to be the
- owner of this property?' Then he picked up a burnt match, held it down to
- the grate, and lighted the gas with that.” Hal-loran smiled a far-away
- smile. “Aren't some of his steamers up at Pewaukoe now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The question was asked in the same careless voice, and it took the Captain
- a moment to realize that the subject had been changed. Then he answered
- with a puzzled expression:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; the G. H. Bigelow should have come in there two or three days ago.
- The other boats are at Chicago or up on Lake Superior.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Big boat, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Got a good crew for her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain, all at sea, could think of nothing but an affirmative to
- this.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's the Captain's name?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Carpenter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who's the engineer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Robbie MacGregor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Robbie? Certainly. None better.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran slid down off the post and looked at his watch.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Old G. Hyde is getting up just about now. He's a great hand at early
- rising—preaches a good deal about it—likes to say that if he
- hadn't been brought up on a good old gentleman known as B. Franklin he'd
- never be where he is now. Well, maybe he wouldn't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain's temper was hanging on the edge of an explosion, but Halloran
- went on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's nothing to be done here now. Try to keep everything ready—if
- you can pick up a man to fire up, I should—and we'll probably get
- off this afternoon sometime.” And he strolled off, leaving the Captain to
- stare after him and give vent to the first rumblings of a storm.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran, in his old clothes and faded purple sweater and college cap, was
- headed for the railroad station. At the station he took the Pewaukoe
- train; at Pewaukoe he walked down to the mills, fairly certain that none
- of Bigelow's men there would recognize him. The <i>G. H. Bigelow</i> lay
- at the wharf, as Craig had said. She was taking on a cargo.
- </p>
- <p>
- The mills were on the low ground by the river. From the road he could
- overlook them and the great piles of lumber that crowded close to the
- water's edge for hundreds of yards up and down stream, and he leaned on
- the fence to take it in. As far up as he could see the river was blocked
- with logs. The mills were singing and buzzing and humming—it was
- plain that the Bigelow vitalizing process had begun, and that all hands
- were being crowded on the work in order to sell lumber at a loss to
- Higginson's customers. He thought he would walk down through the yards
- toward the steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- As the unknown man, wearing a purple sweater and somewhat in need of a
- shave, walked past the shore end of the nearer mill, the eyes of the
- Superintendent fell upon him. A moment later the two met.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you?” said the Superintendent, suspicious but civil.
- </p>
- <p>
- “First rate. How are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Want to see any one?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; just looking around.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where were you going?” asked the Superintendent, trying to veil his
- suspicions.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nowhere especially. I didn't suppose they'd be any objection if I watched
- 'em loading the steamer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—certainly not.” This reluctantly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Got a great lot of lumber here, haven't you?” Halloran was looking, as he
- spoke, at a long pile that extended to a point within fifty feet of the
- mill.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; working nights right along—with all the men I can get. That
- pile doesn't stay here; but we're so crowded I had to leave it over night—just
- until I get the Bigelow loaded up. I'm going to put on a big force this
- afternoon and carry it all down to the wharf. Some days lately we've been
- so crowded I really haven't known how I was going to get things done.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Slowly it was dawning on Halloran that he was suspected of being—not
- the manager for Higgin-son & Company—but a lynx-eyed insurance
- inspector, out running down violations of the clear-space clause. This
- wouldn't do. It was not on his books to be drawn into an extended
- conversation with Bigelow's superintendent. He would have to fall back on
- lying if this were to keep up much longer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say,” he observed, “what was that fellow doing down in the water, hopping
- around on the logs with a long pole?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Superintendent was beginning to lose interest.
- </p>
- <p>
- “He picks out logs of the right sizes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mean to say he can tell just by looking at a log in the water
- what size it will cut to?” A curt nod was the only reply.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Isn't it remarkable how a man can get trained to things? Now if I were to
- try a thing like that———”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the Superintendent had fled.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran walked slowly on to the wharf, and stood watching the gangs that
- were carrying the heavy sticks over the rail of the steamer. Two steam
- hoists were clanking and rattling as the booms swung back and forth.
- Bosses were shouting and swearing—everywhere was confusion, but
- confusion that moved steadily onward toward the loading of the steamer.
- Halloran dodged around the labourers and walked along the wharf until he
- was opposite the engine-room door. Within was a fat man in overalls
- tinkering over the machinery. Halloran climbed up to the deck and stood in
- the doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you?” he observed. “Nice day!” The engineer nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must be Mr. MacGregor, aren't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's my name.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mine is Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- MacGregor looked up, surprised.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I am with Higginson & Company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- MacGregor did not know what to make of this. Halloran, however, went right
- on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you like working for Bigelow?” And without leaving time to reply,
- he added: “Mean old humbug, ain't he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you know about Bigelow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Used to work for him myself. I had all I wanted of him. He isn't square.
- That's what brings me here. We need a good engineer, and Captain Craig
- tells me you are the best on the lakes. Is that so?”
- </p>
- <p>
- MacGregor's mind had not caught up yet; and Halloran continued:
- </p>
- <p>
- “I want to take you back to Wauchung with me. We will raise your salary
- five hundred dollars, and engage you for as long a time as you think
- right! You know Higginson & Company—and you know we keep our
- promises. Then you can tell Bigelow to go to hell if you want to. I know
- how Bigelow's men feel.” He looked at his watch. “We can get the 9:53
- train down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mean to go this morning?” said MacGregor.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; right off. You surely have an assistant you can leave in charge of
- the engine.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The fat man backed up against the opposite door and looked at Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “See here,” he said, “what does this mean?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mean?”—Halloran's anger, that had been rising since six o'clock,
- began to boil over—“Mean? It means that Bigelow has come into the
- lumber business with the idea of running Higginson out. And if you know
- anything about Martin L. Higginson you know that old Bigelow has bitten
- off the biggest hunk he ever tried to get his mouth around. It means that
- G. Hyde Bigelow's going to get such a hob-nailed roost in the breeches
- that he'll be lucky to come down at all. He's going to have the whole
- damned zodiac buzzing around in his head before he gets through with
- Higginson—that's what it means! I've come up here this morning to
- tell you that we want an engineer, and that you're the man we want. And we
- want you to go on the 9:53 train—that's about forty minutes now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0103.jpg" alt="0103 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0103.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- MacGregor was thinking hard. He knew a little about Bigelow and a good
- deal more about Higginson. He liked the phrase, too—what was it—oh,
- “the best engineer on the lakes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can't you give me a day to think it over, Mr. Halloran?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sorry, but I'm afraid not. We need you right off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What did you say your offer was?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What you think is fair. But I'll tell you flatly, we'll pay you more than
- Bigelow will—five hundred a year more. You have just about
- comfortable time to get up to your house and change your clothes. I'll
- meet you at the station.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What if Bigelow should make trouble about my contract?” asked MacGregor
- dubiously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't you worry a minute about that. We'll back you up to the last
- notch.”
- </p>
- <p>
- MacGregor thought it over a little longer. Then he turned his ponderous
- frame and called to his assistant.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he said over his shoulder to Halloran, “I'll meet you at the
- station.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this moment Mr. William H. Babcock was rising from a hotel breakfast in
- Grand Rapids and reaching for the toothpicks. As he strolled out to the
- office to buy a paper he picked his teeth and smiled softly.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Feeling painfully outside of it all—almost inclined to wonder if his
- troubles were real, if the mills behind him, the lumber piled on either
- side of him, the laden steamer before him were real; if this round world,
- even, with its mixture of ups and downs and ins and outs, were real—Mr.
- Higginson stood on the wharf at Captain Craig's side. The steamer's fires
- had not yet been started and it was now after eleven o'clock. The
- engineers had disappeared, and with them the oilers and stokers; the
- wheelmen were gone, and the lookouts—nothing left in Wauchung but a
- few deckhands. And now, to cap it all, Halloran had dropped suddenly off
- the surface of the earth, leaving a certain old Scotch captain to rumble
- internally and now and then to burst into eruption with scorching phrases
- about boys that ought to be back in the nursery, about babes that had been
- prematurely weaned.
- </p>
- <p>
- Into this scene of gloom and desolation came Halloran, recognizable
- half-way up to the mill by the purple sweater, carrying a bulging canvas
- telescope; and following him, somewhat scant of breath, hurried a fat man
- with a patent-leather valise. The gloomy ones observed them at the same
- moment. Mr. Higginson gave a nervous start, then was swept by a feeling of
- relief that almost brought a smile to his face. The Captain looked—and
- looked—and—the rumblings ceased. Nothing further was heard
- that day about nursing-bottles.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hallo, Robbie,” was all that Craig could bring himself to say when the
- fat man had reached the wharf and set down his valise and begun swabbing
- his face with a handkerchief that showed signs of use since he had fallen
- into Halloran's hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you, Cap'n?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson drew his manager aside.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who is this man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He is the new engineer.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson's eyes shifted from Halloran to the fat man and back again
- two or three times. Then, as time was pressing, he decided to ask no
- questions.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There is a man up the river that understands firing,” he said. “Crosman
- has gone up to get him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have we any wheelmen?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, one of Craig's old men is in the mill. When do you plan to start?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right away—as soon as we can fire up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson was on the point of suggesting a wait until the next
- morning, but he withheld this, too. And so Halloran, who had promised to
- deliver the lumber by the morning of the fourteenth, and who would have,
- taken the steamer down himself rather than give Bigelow the pleasure of
- delaying him fifteen minutes, went on with the work of preparation.
- </p>
- <p>
- At three o'clock that afternoon they were off, with one man in the
- wheel-house, a quartet of clumsy deckhands in the stoke-hole, a devoutly
- profane fat man in the engine-room, and one combined lookout and deckhand
- by the name of Halloran—every man of them facing a solid twelve
- hours on duty. Never had steamer gone out between the Wauchung piers in
- such plight before. If the white-clad Swede in the lookout of the
- life-saving station could have seen through the walls of this good ship <i>Higginson</i>,
- could have known the facts that lay behind this brave front, he would have
- wagged his head dubiously and long.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the stars were kind on the thirteenth of this month. Captain Craig,
- standing on the wheel-house and guiding her out toward deep water, found
- himself looking on a flat mirror that blended, miles away, into the blue
- sky. Streaked with wide reaches of green and purple and corn-colour was
- Lake Michigan to-day—wearing her gladdest dress over a calm heart.
- And Halloran and the Captain, both of whom knew her temper, who had met
- once, indeed, when she was angriest, near Evanston a few years earlier—recognized
- themselves for very lucky men.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the old <i>Higginson No. 1</i> headed southward, and plowed
- deliberately down past Point Sable, and heaved out a long line of black
- smoke just as if she had been a real full-handed steamer with real firemen
- throwing coal into the greedy furnaces. There was even some enthusiasm
- aboard; not one even of the stokers but knew dimly that they were
- fighting. They even felt, the younger ones, like men marching into battle,
- and when the <i>Higginson</i> was fairly out on the lake and swinging
- around on her course, one amateur fireman of the watch below ran down the
- ladder to pass the good news to his less fortunate brethren on duty. And
- if the heat of the work had been less trying, these grimy fellows,
- stripped to the drawers and covered with sweat and coal, might even have
- given three cheers.
- </p>
- <p>
- They ran down slowly, of course. It was getting on toward daylight when
- the <i>Higginson</i> steamed into the harbour at Michigan City and tied up
- at the wharf of the lumber company, and it was a heartily exhausted set of
- men that rolled into their bunks to snatch a wink before day should come,
- bringing more work with it.
- </p>
- <p>
- At eight o'clock Halloran walked over to the Company's office and inquired
- for the manager.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm Halloran,” he said, “of Higginson & Company. How soon can you
- begin unloading?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right away,” replied the manager civilly, but with an odd expression.
- “I'm just sending some men down.” His surprise was so great that it had to
- find some expression. He seemed to be thinking it over as he left his desk
- to go to the wharf. Finally, with an effort at an off-hand manner, he
- added, “You're prompt on time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure,” replied Halloran. “Why not?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V—A Venture in Matrimony
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>t was Saturday
- night on the North Side, and shortly after six o'clock. That part of the
- world that centres in North Clark Street between Lincoln Park and the
- Bridge was already beginning to stir and stretch and shake off the dust of
- the day; was swarming in from scores of cross streets, to parade before
- the show-windows and pour into the beer-gardens and restaurants, to crowd
- at the corners—a motley company of washed and unwashed; of labourers
- and shopgirls hurrying home, and of more fortunate ones, old and young,
- sauntering from home, to get out of life what North Clark Street had to
- offer.
- </p>
- <p>
- Strains of dance music floated out over board fences that were gaudy with
- posters, out over evergreen hedges that thrived in green tubs. All the
- world was gay to-night; all the world was in the mood to sit at white
- tables under the trees and dine on the best of German fare, to tip back
- and listen to German music from German orchestras, to toss the waiter half
- a dollar; life was gay, life was jolly; all was well with the world. No
- half-lights here, no miserly crouching in shadows, no gloomy ones to spoil
- it all; nothing but froth on the glass, a laugh on the lip, and here's
- looking at you!
- </p>
- <p>
- But think again. Of all these houses of amusement was there not one
- standing empty—was there not one where gloom reigned? Glance along
- the street, pass the policeman on the corner—the fat policeman, for
- whose sake we will hope all thieves are slow of foot—down past other
- corners and other fat policemen, down almost to the river, so near that
- the smell of the water poisons the air. Was there not a dingy little
- playhouse, overwhelmed by the soot and grime of the city, by the noise of
- the trains that seemed to be rushing into the building with bells ringing
- and every steam-valve open—overwhelmed, too, by the rattle and
- struggle of the street, and the large buildings that crowded so close on
- each side that they threatened to come together with a snap and leave no
- trace of the dingy little structure with its <i>porte cochere</i> front.
- If there was, anywhere in this big city, a building that spoke of failure,
- of pitiful inadequacy for any metropolitan purpose, of aimlessness and
- inevitable wreckage, here it stood, bearing the hesitating announcement
- that within might be found Somebody's Original Oriental Burlesquers and
- Refined Vaudeville.
- </p>
- <p>
- Not long after six o'clock was it, and the lingering remnants of a very
- thin audience were rapidly escaping before the onslaught of the “chasers.”
- The particular chaser that held the stage at the moment was a tall, thin
- young man, rather nimble as to the legs, who was exercising a sound pair
- of lungs on a song, a tender memory of a certain Bridget O'Grady, who, he
- vowed, was a perfect lady. The fiddles squeaked and rasped, the piano
- tinkled, the bass viol rumbled in loudest of all; and the audience grew
- thinner and thinner—narrowed down, in fact, to a few questionable
- individuals who had, one feared, no better place to go. After the song
- there was a dance in which the nimble legs appeared to some advantage. And
- if we had been tucked away in a corner of that dirty stage, behind the
- wings that were slit and frayed from years of service—if we had
- watched the Irish vocalist when he came off and readjusted his carroty
- wig, we could not have failed to recognize in the possessor of the nimble
- legs and the sound lungs our old friend Apples.
- </p>
- <p>
- Somewhere in the course of his career Apples had dropped a stitch; for the
- goal of all true Thespians, the myriad-minded Shakespeare, was still only
- a waking dream for Apples, was still no more than a twinkling
- constellation that shone and shone in the far heavens, serenely
- unconscious that one Appleton Le Duc was striving upward. But was it not
- an encouragement to recall the inspiriting words of the professor of
- elocution, that Shakespeare himself had been a country boy; that he, too,
- had gone to the city to seek his fortune; that he, too, had stumbled and
- struggled, and climbed and climbed until he had reached the highest
- pinnacle of fame?
- </p>
- <p>
- Something was certainly on the mind of the rising actor to-night—something
- that elevated him above the dingy hall and the sleepy audience. Pausing
- only to mop his brow, back he went in response to his encore—the
- encore that was mentioned in his contract—as cheerfully as if the
- audience had really given him a hand; and the sound lungs burst out again,
- to another scraping, tinkling, rumbling accompaniment; and the voice of
- Apples rose high in the praise of 'Mary, my fairy, the Maid of Ochlone,'
- whose heart-dum-de-dumdy-dum-surely-my-own. The sight of a newspaper
- spread wide before the face of the only occupant of an orchestra seat
- could not disturb Apples this evening; the glimpse of two newsboys in the
- gallery, aiming with peanuts at the bald head behind the newspaper, could
- not so much as ruffle him; for golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy,
- dee-iddle-dee-airy, ta raddle-my-own. Very blithe was Apples, strangely
- blithe for an underpaid chaser in the most despondent theatre on the North
- Side.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was another little scene taking place at this time in which we are
- interested. In the lodging of Mrs. Craig—not two rooms now, but one,
- with a decrepit cook-stove in one corner and a ragged quilt hung across
- another corner to serve as a partition between George's bedroom and the
- rest of the space—a silent woman was cooking a meager supper. A very
- silent woman was Mrs. Craig at this time, even more so than formerly. The
- room was hot and close with the odour of cooking.
- </p>
- <p>
- Into this home, at a little before six, came Lizzie Bigelow, grown rather
- more mature in appearance since we last saw her, of a rounder figure and a
- brighter colour. She was in good spirits to-night. By some miracle she was
- as fresh and healthy as if she had been given nothing but the best of
- food, the purest air and plenty of time for exercise; and to the mother it
- seemed as if a whiff of fresh air had come with her into the room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Lizzie, you are back early.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I got off at half-past five. Where is George?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He has to work late to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes; I forgot. You are tired, ma. You sit down awhile and let me
- finish the supper.” She was throwing aside her hat and jacket as she
- spoke, and she smiled at her mother in a way that brought an expression of
- gratefulness and surprise to the face of the older woman. “Now you just
- sit down awhile. I'm going to get supper ready to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It appeared that she really meant it; and the mother, after a little
- protesting, made way for her by the stove. Indeed, it promised to be quite
- a jolly evening, if only George could get home in time to share it. Even
- without him, what with a merry recital of the funny things that had
- happened at the office during the day, and with other talk of an equally
- unusual good humour, Mrs. Craig was almost bewildered. She knew only too
- well how unexpectedly Lizzie's high spirits could turn corners, how
- petulant this merry, black-eyed girl could be.
- </p>
- <p>
- After supper, announcing that she was going to get a breath of fresh air,
- Lizzie went out, first ingeniously smuggling a small package outside the
- door under pretense of opening it for air. Next she put on her hat and
- jacket and stood for a moment smiling; finally she bent over her mother
- and kissed her, an act so surprising that Mrs. Craig flushed with
- pleasure. Then, with a nervous little laugh and a fling of her skirts, she
- had whisked out and the door was closed. There was a pause at the top of
- the stairs while she fumbled in her pocket for a folded slip of paper
- which she tucked silently into the crack of the door; but at last she was
- off, running down the stairs with her bundle held tightly under her
- jacket, and hurrying across the street to avoid meeting George in case he
- should be returning home at this hour.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- The encore was over and Apples was hurrying, wig in hand, to the
- dressing-room. There he threw off his costume, dressed for the street,
- packed all his “properties” hastily in an old valise, and went out at the
- stage-door. The doorkeeper nodded to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're off now, are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I'm through here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Got your pay?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Some of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're lucky.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Guess I am. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Apples, still hurrying, still wanting breath, turned the corner, paused,
- looked up the street and down, seemed disappointed and irresolute, and
- finally turned his valise on end and sat on it. From where he sat in the
- shadow of a dark building he could see the flow of life along North Clark
- Street, and he watched it nervously. He seemed somewhat oppressed by the
- rush and whirl of things, as if in mid-course of a tempestuous career he
- had paused to think. The soot-laden air was portentous to-night; the
- rattle and rumble of the street, the guffaws from the actors' saloon at
- his elbow, the roar and hurry of it all, bore heavily on his spirits as he
- sat waiting there. For Apples was on the brink of something—something
- new and strange. Before him lay an unexplored country, and who could say
- if it should prove a land of roses or a black abyss. For better or worse
- it was to be, a plunge into the future, vastly unlike certain other
- plunges that he had been forced to take—alone. Circumstances had
- swept him on; the offer had come, bearing the guarantee that at last his
- name should appear on all posters in letters not shorter than three and
- one-half inches; the other one, whose face and voice had helped to make it
- all possible, was willing, with a fluttering heart, to keep her promise;
- the small boy with the wizened face, whose thin legs were to help make
- their joint fortunes, had jumped at the chance; and here he was on the
- brink. Henceforth the three Le Ducs, three, were to be a feature in the
- theatrical world. And the black sky, bearing oppressively down like an
- emblem of great grim Chicago, was portentous indeed.
- </p>
- <p>
- At last a woman, with a small package under her jacket, slipped out from
- the crowd and came hesitatingly down the side street. Apples rose.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hello.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Got everything?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; where's Jimmie?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's waiting at the pier.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so, without speaking further, these two young persons, who were about
- to take the plunge hand in hand, set out together toward the east. A block
- farther on she said, with a show of petulance, “Have we got to take Jimmie
- along?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0051.jpg" alt="0051 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0051.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Yes, we'd have to come back here if we didn't. We've got to join the
- company Monday night, you know, at South Bend.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They crossed over the Rush Street bridge and took the early steamer for
- St. Joseph. From now on they should have no difficulty. There was a
- reverend person in St. Joseph who was always glad to marry foolish young
- men and foolish young girls, for a consideration. And this reverend one,
- in the evening's rest after a day given to guiding his flock heavenward,
- could surely find a few moments in which to make these two one. They could
- be sure of finding discretion here, sure that no awkward questions would
- be asked, that no permission from unreasonable parents would be hinted at;
- sure, in brief, that the good divine would be entirely at their service,
- would wish them Godspeed on the up-road or the down-road or any
- conceivable road—for a consideration.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VI—A Shut-down
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he weeks went
- spinning by. Both sides were losing so heavily that the fight was becoming
- grim. On the one hand, Bigelow, with his unreasonable directors to keep in
- line, was closing in relentlessly on the Wauchung interests; on the other
- hand, Higginson & Company were holding on with an endurance that
- puzzled Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- And it was at this time, when affairs were leaping along toward a crisis,
- that Doctor Brown of Wauchung took a hand by ordering Mr. Higginson to
- bed. Nothing but a complete rest could save him from a breakdown, said the
- Doctor—news which brought Mrs. Higginson down with nervous
- exhaustion, which set Mamie's wits a-fluttering, which complicated matters
- somewhat for Halloran. The longer Halloran studied the business, the
- longer he pored over statements of profits and statements of losses that
- could not be brought together, the plainer became the facts.. Ideas were
- floating in his head, ideas so nearly what he wanted that he knew it would
- be only a question of time before he could catch one or the other of them
- and bring it down into the world of reality—ideas that were later to
- be brought to bear, perhaps, on Bigelow and his combination; but meanwhile
- his course was clear. The logical next step was to shut down the mills.
- </p>
- <p>
- He dared not think of all the details in connection with such a step, of
- what it would mean to Mr. Higginson, to the hundreds of men who had grown
- up in the work, or to what few other business interests there were in
- Wauchung; the mere consideration of the moral issue involved led into such
- a maze of pros and cons that he resolutely set it aside and kept his mind
- fixed on the business facts. If this step were not taken, the heavy
- expense of maintenance would swamp Higginson & Company and everybody
- connected with them so deep that all the king's horses could not drag them
- out; by shutting down, on the other hand, he could prolong the fight. The
- trust would be free to continue selling at a loss; but Higginson &
- Company would be enabled to leave their timber growing in the forest until
- prices should reach normal again.
- </p>
- <p>
- As Mr. Higginson's whole fortune was in the business, his income was now
- next to nothing; but Halloran believed he could hold out six months or so
- longer. On the other hand, he did not think Bigelow could last so long at
- the head of a losing venture. Indeed, if for one moment of those tense
- days he had lost his belief that Bigelow could be beaten, Halloran would
- have dropped out of this story on this page.
- </p>
- <p>
- One evening Doctor Brown received a call from the Manager.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, Doctor,” said Halloran, when they were seated in the office, “what
- can you tell me about Mr. Higginson? Is he better?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The physician shook his head. “No—no better.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You consider his case serious?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes,”—gravely—“it is serious.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you, Doctor—for you must understand it before you can
- answer me—that the business is in a situation that demands his
- attention if he is able to give it—even for five minutes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Doctor Brown shook his head again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Could I not lay a decision before him, Doctor, if I make it as clear and
- simple as possible?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; a decision would be the last thing to bother him with.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran sat thinking. This was difficult—very difficult, indeed.
- Shutting down another man's mills without his knowledge was not the sort
- of thing he liked to do. The physician spoke again:
- </p>
- <p>
- “His mind <i>must</i> have a rest, Mr. Halloran; that is the only way we
- can save him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This was final, and Halloran went out to return to his room and pore again
- over accounts and statements, to think again of Bigelow, to grope again
- for those ideas that seemed so nearly what he wanted. For another week he
- watched the expense account mounting up; then one day he sent for Crosman
- to come to his office.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Crosman,” he said, “the mills will shut down Saturday night. Will you
- please see that the men are notified?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman looked at Halloran for a moment to make sure that he understood;
- then with a puzzled expression he left the room. Later in the day he met
- Halloran in the yard.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Am I——— Do you want me to leave Saturday?” he asked,
- his voice full of emotion.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No,” the Manager replied shortly, “you stay; I want you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- That evening Halloran was at work in his room when Crosman came in.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I just happened around at Higginson's,” he said, evidently somewhat
- embarrassed, “and Mamie said that her father wants to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When—now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I believe so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran pushed aside his work with a thoughtful face. Presently he said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you are going back that way, I'll walk along with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The door was opened by Mamie herself.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, Mr. Halloran,” she cried, “I don't know what to say. Father isn't
- well at all—he's so nervous and excitable. Doctor Brown told me this
- morning not to let him see you at all, but he says he must see you—he
- made me send Harry as soon as he got here. I haven't known what to do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran heard her through, then he went directly up-stairs. Mr.
- Higginson's room was dimly lighted, and it was a moment before his eyes
- could distinguish clearly; but when he finally made out the thin figure
- propped up on the bed he was shocked at the change the sickness had
- wrought.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down,” Mr. Higginson was saying. “Tell me what this means.” His voice
- was tremulous with feeling. “What is this they have been telling me about
- closing the mills?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is true. I have arranged to shut down Saturday night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “True, is it?” The lean old figure stirred on its pillows; the thin
- fingers closed tightly on a fold of the bedclothes. “Do you know what you
- are saying, man?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We can't afford to pay men for doing nothing, Mr. Higginson.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you realize what this means?” The old man raised himself on his elbow;
- he found it difficult to control his voice. “Do you know that I brought
- those men here, that I have supported some of them for thirty years? Do
- you think they can be cast off to starve? Why didn't you come to me with
- this? What do you mean by settling it out of hand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I haven't been allowed to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not been allowed! Is this a conspiracy? There's some meaning to this,
- Halloran. I insist upon knowing it. Do you mean that I have got to the
- end? Have we lost?” The last few words were spoken with a sudden return to
- calmness; but his eyes were shining.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, not at all. I think we shall win.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You think!—for God's sake, Halloran, speak out and have it over
- with. What's the matter—what has happened?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran came over and sat on the edge of the bed where he could talk in a
- quiet voice; “We have not lost, Mr. Higginson, and what's more, we aren't
- going to lose. Bigelow's people have got to keep on selling below cost
- until something happens. We certainly couldn't go on running full- handed
- without a cent of income. By shutting down we can hold out longer than
- they can. It's hard on the men, but it is hard on the rest of us, too.
- It's the only way we can meet them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Even a sick man could see the soundness of this. And somehow the presence
- of his manager, with his air of health and confidence, went a long ways
- toward restoring, for the moment, the balance of Mr. Higginson's mind. He
- fell back on the pillows, unstrung after his excitement, but somewhat
- relieved.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran said good-night and went downstairs. Mamie heard his step and,
- leaving Crosman in the sitting-room, she met him in the hall.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I meant to tell you not to come down yet,” she said with lowered eyes.
- “Ma said that she wanted to see you when you came in. I'll go ahead if you
- don't mind.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He followed her to another upstairs room, where he found Mrs. Higginson on
- a couch, dressed in the daintiest of lace-trimmed dressing-sacks. She
- looked up when he entered and motioned wearily to a chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is kind of you to come,” she said. “Mamie, dear, won't you get me my
- heavy shawl?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mamie, understanding, left the room and did not hurry back.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I want to talk with you about our dear girl,” began Mrs. Higginson. “Of
- course, if the worst should happen—you understand———-”
- Here her emotion overcame her for a moment. “You can understand what a
- shock it has been to me. Mr. H. had not told me of the trouble, and the
- news that he had failed came like a thunderbolt. I don't mind for myself—but
- if anything should happen—if the worst—I could go so much—so
- much easier—if I knew that Mamie was provided for. You will be good
- to her, John? You will forgive me for calling you John? It is the way Mr.
- H. always spoke of you at home———” She was obliged to
- pause again. “I am afraid he will never c—call you John again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her handkerchief went up to her eyes; and Halloran sat back and looked
- hard at a picture of the first Higginson mill, in oils, that hung over the
- mantel.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose we shall have to sell the house,” she went on, rallying. “You
- will know best about that, John. I am sure you will act for the best, and
- save what you can for our little girl. You will be good to her—I am
- sure you will. She has learned to admire you very much. And when we are—when
- we are no longer—and the house is gone——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing of that sort will be necessary,” broke in Halloran, glad to
- relieve her mind and the gloom at the same time. “The house needn't be
- sold. I think we shall have the mills running again before so very long.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He saw, as he spoke, that his words struck a discordant note. She looked
- at him incredulously.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It isn't so bad as it sounds————” He meant to
- make it better, but, failing, stopped.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you mean that we have been given this shock for nothing?” she asked,
- with returning strength.
- </p>
- <p>
- The only way out was retreat. He rose, saying, “I hope to have good news
- for you soon,” and bowed a good-night.
- </p>
- <p>
- He found Mamie sitting on the stairs in the dark with the shawl across her
- lap. She got up with a little sob and stood back against the rail for him
- to pass.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Cheer up, Miss Higginson,” he said in a low voice, “It isn't a failure at
- all. We are getting on as well as we could expect.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She put both hands on the railing to steady herself and looked up at him
- in amazement.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mean that!” she whispered, “what you said?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded. “You needn't bother about it at all. Everything is all right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She Still doubted. “But the mills?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The mills will be running soon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, really?” she said, almost wonderingly. “Really?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The sobs were coming again. She caught his hand in both of hers and held
- it tightly. “Then there isn't any failure—and you are going to save
- our home for us?”
- </p>
- <p>
- This was frying-pan to fire. Halloran answered hastily:
- </p>
- <p>
- “It won't be necessary to save it. We shall be all right again soon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- His matter-of-fact tone brought her to herself. She released his hand and,
- suddenly plunged into confusion, hurried upstairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- On his way out Halloran paused in the hall. Through the wide doorway he
- could see Crosman, out in the sitting-room, striding around with his hands
- in his pockets.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night, Crosman,” he ventured.
- </p>
- <p>
- But the other would not hear him; and Halloran, feeling as if he had been
- put through a wringer, went out.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII—Halloran Goes to Chicago
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he next morning—it
- chanced to be a Friday—Crosman came over to Halloran's desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you a couple of minutes?” he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Surely. More than I want. Sit down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman did not take the offered chair, but leaned on the desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Miss Higginson spoke to me last night,” he said, with visible effort,
- “about the family expenses. She thinks they ought to reduce them all
- around, but you, she says, are the only one that knows about it. I
- suggested that she talk it over with you herself; but she didn't want to,
- for some reason.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran swung back in his chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know how well you understand this business, Crosman. It simply
- amounts to this: The combine people are selling lumber below cost to run
- us out of business, and we have shut down to let them go ahead until
- they're sick of it. When the price rises we'll start up again. Of course
- all this makes a big difference in Mr. Higginson's income. I suppose
- there's no use trying to make that plain to women, but if you can do
- anything to clear the air you'd better go talk to them. Anyhow, don't let
- them make any difference in their living. We mustn't do anything that will
- scare people; the Higginson credit is good, and it's our business to keep
- it good.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He meditated a moment and then looked up and said abruptly:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Look here, Crosman, you can do me a favour if you want to. Mr.
- Higginson's sickness seems to have left me in charge of his family
- finances. Now suppose you take the whole business off my hands. You know
- both Mrs. Higginson and Miss Higginson better than I do; and I think it
- would be a good deal easier for them to talk things over with you than
- with me. You can let me know if anything special comes up and I'll help
- you work it out. How does that strike you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right,” he managed finally to get out. “I'll try it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't believe this giving away lumber can last much longer,” said
- Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- Something about those phrases that had been floating in Halloran's mind
- for weeks, “giving away lumber,” “selling at a loss,” “selling to our
- customers,” stuck in his thoughts now. He sat there, leaning back in his
- swivel-chair gazing at the rows of pigeon-holes—Crosman still
- leaning on the desk—while his mind sailed off to Pewaukoe; he saw
- again the great yards of the Bigelow Company crowded full of lumber—the
- mills droning ceaselessly, the scores of men swarming over the work, the
- steamer hurrying the cargo—and he thought again “all this is to be
- sold below cost to our customers.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Then Halloran's chair came down with a bang and his open hand slapped the
- desk. He had got it. The idea that had evaded him all these weeks was
- finally run to cover, was bagged securely. And the simplicity of it all,
- the feeling of utter imbecility in having failed to see it before, left
- him limp. But he recovered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Crosman,” he said, “I'm going to Chicago to-night and may not get back
- before the first of the week. You look out for things here, will you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The assistant was growing hardened to surprises. He merely nodded now,
- with a curious expression.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had got it. And for a moment he could only say to himself, over
- and over: “What a fool! What a fool!” He could only think of that
- tremendous output of lumber thrown on the market for a song. “Selling to
- our customers, eh,” he thought; “selling to our customers!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Crosman,” he said, when he felt that he was on his legs again, “we're
- going to buy lumber.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman did not grasp it at first.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We're going to buy lumber—all we can get,” Halloran repeated; “and
- I'm going down to get the money.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was sinking into Crosman's head—slowly he was gripping it, this
- idea of Halloran's. Higgin-son & Company were going to buy lumber,
- were going to buy it below cost—great quantities of it—to buy
- it secretly, in many places, under many names, at half the normal price;
- they would sell it later at or above normal. Then at last Crosman looked
- at Halloran and grinned—broadly, happily. And Halloran said to
- himself again: “What a fool! <i>Oh</i>, what a fool!”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was much to be done that day. Crosman must have full instructions
- for prompt action; the moment Halloran's message should come up from
- Chicago he must cross the lake to Milwaukee, and from there command the
- Wisconsin shore. Halloran himself would set the Chicago end of the line in
- motion. Scattered here and there around the lake were men who had
- occasionally handled business for Higginson & Company. These were to
- be retained, wherever possible, and set to buying in Trust lumber.
- Everything must be done secretly; every opportunity must be seized. There
- would be storage to arrange for in a dozen cities, and insurance; there
- were a score and odd contingencies to be foreseen and provided against, a
- maximum price to be agreed on for each necessary step. But the figuring
- and the talking had an end; and when Halloran finally jumped on the night
- train and was rolled off toward Chicago he felt that Bigelow's flank was
- as good as turned.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was one bank in Chicago with which Mr. Higginson had been doing
- business for twenty years. Thither Halloran went, shook hands with the
- cashier and laid bare the situation. The cashier already knew a good deal
- about the fight, and was interested to fill up the gaps in his
- information.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is it you plan to do, Mr. Halloran?” he asked when they had talked
- over the situation.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are going to buy lumber.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The cashier inclined his head to show that he understood perfectly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We can buy it now for one or two dollars less than it costs us to get it
- out of our own woods,” Halloran added.
- </p>
- <p>
- This interested the cashier very much indeed. Higginson & Company were
- good, all the way through; and their manager seemed to have a keen
- business sense. Mr. Higginson's sickness entered his calculations; but
- still the investment was sound. The amount must be discussed and one or
- two details mentioned. But it was after a very few minutes of talk that
- the cashier said:
- </p>
- <p>
- “We shall be very glad to let you have the money, Mr. Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The arrangements were soon made. Then Hal-loran said good-morning and went
- down to the telegraph office in the basement of the building. And as this
- short message hummed over the wires to Crosman, “<i>Go ahead. Halloran</i>,”
- he walked out into the street to begin the battle. All idleness was over
- now for Halloran—all merely defensive work, all waiting for results.
- From now on it was to be straight-out fighting; and he knew that the best
- man would win.
- </p>
- <p>
- Before that Saturday afternoon was far advanced Halloran's agents were at
- work. Their instructions were simple. “Buy all the one-inch and two-inch
- stuff you can get, pine and hemlock, in regular lengths and widths,” was
- what he had said, in starting them out; and before evening orders had been
- placed in Chicago alone for nearly a million feet. The work would be
- pushed still further on Monday and Tuesday. Every company in the “combine”
- would be given an opportunity to sell heavily.
- </p>
- <p>
- Farther up Lake Michigan Crosman was working with equal energy. It was a
- chance for Crosman, an opportunity to show his metal, and he realized it.
- There had been some pulling at odds in the office, and the assistant had
- perhaps been inclined to misunderstand Halloran in more ways than one; but
- all that was now swept away, and the enthusiasm of vigorous work was in
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- For the first time since the fight began he fully understood it; he had
- been made to see that there was a possibility of winning. And when
- Halloran's message reached him that morning and he realized that no
- regular steamer would cross the lake before evening, he hurried a tug into
- commission, and with Captain Craig and MacGregor to get him over he made
- the passage to Milwaukee in less than seven hours. Late as it was when he
- arrived, he not only organized the work for Monday, but succeeded in
- placing the first few orders.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so it fell out that the reduction in price, made solely to ruin
- Higginson, was suddenly and unexpectedly turned to his advantage. The busy
- companies that were scattered about the northern shores of the lake did
- not know this yet—did not dream that they were crowding extra shifts
- of men into their mills to help out Higginson, that the logs floating down
- a score of rivers in both peninsulas were to be cut for Higginson, that
- the steamers loading at a score of wharves were running for Higginson,
- that the long list of lake towns from which had arisen the heavy demand
- for lumber were buying for Higginson. They did not know these things, and
- Halloran did not mean that they should know them.
- </p>
- <p>
- Perhaps it was the knowledge of all this, and the natural elation after
- such a day's work, that between them took Halloran's actions out of his
- own hands that Saturday evening. There were times when he was likely to
- surprise himself; this seemed to be one of them. During these past three
- years he had been in Chicago a number of times, but always only to
- transact his business and go directly back to Wauchung, always heeding
- that stubborn quality somewhere within him that had had so much to do with
- pulling him up from nothing and pushing him on in the world, that had kept
- him out of foolishness on at least one important occasion. He had managed,
- until now, to side with the stubborn quality against a certain impulse
- that had occasionally given him trouble, but to-night the impulse caught
- him off his guard. There were a good many things he might have done—there
- were even one or two details of the fight still to be studied out—but
- the impulse, once securely planted in authority, swept aside every other
- thought. And so, after dinner, Halloran caught a train for Evanston.
- </p>
- <p>
- An odd feeling took possession of him when he found himself once more,
- after three years, on the scene of his struggles. It did not seem so long
- ago. That he had greatly changed he knew; since the days of
- furnace-tending, and study, and work as a surfman, and all the other
- interests that had crowded those earlier years, he had thrown himself out
- into the world. He had come to know something of the joy of directing men
- and events, of playing a positive part in the life about him. He had come
- to love the fighting, to love the play of fact upon fact and mind upon
- mind. During the last year he had begun to understand the feeling of the
- trained swimmer when he plunges into deep water. There was the
- exhilaration, not only of keeping afloat where weak men sink, but of
- laying a course and following it, sure of his strength and endurance.
- While this change was taking place in him he had been inclined to forget
- that these three years were, after all, but a ninth or tenth part of his
- life so far, and that the other nine-tenths were also a fact. But
- to-night, as he walked up toward the Ridge where the big houses stood, he
- felt that he was taking up his old life where he had laid it down that day
- when he took the boat for Wauchung. And somehow he was not so sure of
- himself as he had been when he said good-morning to the cashier.
- </p>
- <p>
- He was almost relieved to find that Miss Davies and her mother had stepped
- across the way. They would be back soon, he was told; so he went in, left
- his hat and coat in the hall, and walked in through the parlour to the
- long sitting-room, where there were rows upon rows of books and a
- round-edged table covered with other books and with magazines, and a great
- fireplace with a wood fire burning to take the edge off the evening air.
- </p>
- <p>
- He sat down in the Morris chair by the table and picked up a book—he
- had not had time to read much of late years. But after a moment of turning
- the pages the book was lowered to his knees and his eyes looked over it at
- the fire. There had been a time when he had laid that fire regularly every
- morning, and now to be sitting here, suddenly conscious that his life had
- taken a new direction, that he was older, and that his clothes were better—that
- he was, in fact, another person altogether—was odd and haunting, was
- almost disconcerting.
- </p>
- <p>
- He heard the front door open. There was a rustle out in the hall, and
- voices. He let his head fall against the back of his chair and turned his
- face toward the parlour door. He hardly knew what to make of himself; he
- was almost afraid he had emotions. Certainly a peculiar disturbance was
- going on somewhere within him, such a disturbance as hardly could be
- looked for within the manager of a lumber company. He did not like it at
- all. He wondered why she was so long about coming in. Perhaps she would go
- on upstairs, not knowing he was there; and that would be awkward.
- Altogether, it was probably a good thing that Halloran had come out to
- Evanston before the new life had succeeded in withdrawing him finally from
- the old, before the proportion of one-tenth to nine-tenths had been evened
- up and he had wholly changed into Michigan lumber—a very good thing
- indeed.
- </p>
- <p>
- She came in through the hall doorway and paused surprised. He felt himself
- rising and standing with his back to the table and the light. She came
- slowly forward, inclining her head a little to get the light out of her
- eyes so that she could see his face. The disturbance, now increasing in
- that strange new part of him, out of all proportion to the occasion,
- called his attention to her reserve, to the something—was it pride?—that
- had disturbed him in other days; it taunted him with her firm carriage,
- her fine, thoughtful face; it reminded him of her real superiority, the
- superiority that comes only from pride in right living; and so Halloran,
- the vigorous, the elated, at the moment of greeting an old friend in her
- own house, was so far from equal to the situation that for the life of him
- he could think of nothing but certain raw facts in his own bringing-up, or
- fighting-up, whichever it might be called. And not a word did he say—simply
- waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0139.jpg" alt="0139 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0139.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- She came a few steps nearer and hesitated. Then, after an instant, her
- whole expression changed. Her eyes lighted up with gladness so real that
- even he could not misread it; and she came rapidly forward with
- outstretched hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, John Halloran,” she cried; “where did you come from?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII—The Question
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>e took her hand,
- and their eyes met. Until now it had not occurred to him that she, too,
- had changed. Her expression even was different; three years earlier she
- had been living earnestly, intensely—she had felt the unequal
- burdens of the world and had plunged fearlessly into vast problems, but
- now she seemed more impersonal, more detached.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down,” she said, withdrawing her hand. “I will speak to mother.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There were more greetings to be gone through. They sat about the fire for
- awhile; and Halloran had to give an account of himself, and had to listen
- to Mrs. Davies's open approval of him. She had heard of him now and then;
- she had known from the first that he would get on; she was downright proud
- of him, in fact. This was something of an ordeal, and he felt relieved
- when she withdrew and left Margaret with him.
- </p>
- <p>
- The two stood for a moment looking into the fire; then she nodded toward
- the Morris chair and he dropped into it. She sat down on the other side of
- the table and propped up her chin on her two hands. For a moment they sat
- looking at each other. Finally they both smiled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” she observed, “we've been growing up, haven't we?”
- </p>
- <p>
- So she had remarked it, too.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I guess we have,” he replied. “Rather more than I had thought.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You didn't expect to find me the same girl you left here, did you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran gazed moodily into the fire.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know. I couldn't say just what I did expect.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But it's different, anyway, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And now you don't like it because you think we shall have to begin all
- over again getting acquainted?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded again. Then, looking up, he was assured by her friendly smile.
- She slowly shook her head at him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That isn't quite fair,” she went on. “Here I have been staying right at
- home and doing the same things all these three years. If I have grown a
- little older, I couldn't help it very well. But you have grown to be a
- business man with ever so many interests, and I suppose you are very
- successful—anyway, you have changed so much I hardly knew you. How
- long are you going to be here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Until Monday or Tuesday.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must come to dinner to-morrow, then. You'd better come planning to
- spend the rest of the day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks, I will. How is George?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her face grew serious. “He has been giving me a good deal of trouble
- lately. I don't know what to make of him. He lost his home, you know—or
- maybe you don't. Have you heard the story?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a strange one. To begin with, his sister Elizabeth eloped with Mr.
- Le Duc.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not Apples?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0159.jpg" alt="0159 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0159.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Yes; they were married in St. Joe, and she went on the stage with him.
- Jimmie McGinnis is with them, too. They call themselves the three Le Ducs,
- I believe. And Mrs. Craig lost her position. The Le Ducs are in Chicago
- now, at a cheap theatre, and Mrs. Craig is living with them; but they
- refused to take George, too. They seem to grudge her even the little they
- do. So George was turned out into the street and got into bad company, and
- now he's in jail. I don't think it's as bad as it sounds. His companions
- are a good deal older, and Mr. Babcock, who has been looking after him,
- says he will undoubtedly be released. I almost wrote you about it a little
- while ago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wish you had.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well,” she hesitated, “I didn't know—it has been so long.” She
- looked up. “To tell the truth, I didn't know whether you were still
- interested.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose and went over to the mantel. The fire was low and he heaped it up
- with the largest sticks in the wood-box; then dropping on one knee he took
- up the bellows and had it roaring in a moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I like a big fire,” he said, over his shoulder.
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded and let her eyes rest on him as he worked over the fire. Yes,
- he was a good deal older; his frame had filled out and settled; and in his
- manner, too, some of the rough edges had been rubbed down—a fact she
- whimsically regretted. She got up now and pushed the big chair up beside
- the fire and sat across from him. For a time they said nothing—he
- sitting on a stool at one side of the hearth, she in the chair at the
- other; he applying the bellows in a moody, desultory way, she leaning back
- watching first him and then the leaping flames. Finally he said, letting
- the bellows swing between his knees, still keeping his eyes on the fire:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret!”
- </p>
- <p>
- She started a little and a quick, almost shy glance shot from her eyes;
- but he seemed wholly unconscious that he had never directly called her by
- that name before. He swung the bellows slowly to and fro like a pendulum.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What made you think I wouldn't be interested?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—I don't know that I meant exactly that———”
- </p>
- <p>
- He went on, still without looking up: “Was it anything in what I wrote
- before?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Yes, there had been some writing before—when he was first at
- Wauchung, and she, eager for her little protégé in the city, had kept him
- informed of George's progress and had relied on his counsel. And now, as
- he brought that correspondence up in his mind, and remembered how it had
- bothered him, how he had avoided every personal reference and had made it
- easy always for her to stop when she chose, and how she finally had
- stopped—when he had these facts before him, he was thankful that the
- fire could partly explain his colour.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm afraid I wasn't a very satisfactory correspondent,” he added, “but
- those weren't very satisfactory days. I was sailing pretty close then—I
- had some college expenses to pay back, and I was learning the business,
- and altogether I didn't see much fun in living. If you have thought of me
- since as the same sort of fellow I was then, I don't blame you for not
- wanting to write.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked up at her for a reply; but she only smiled a little and slowly
- shook her head.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so they talked on, these two, for a long time; they drifted on into a
- dreamy, personal mood—into a land where only common interests could
- get a footing, where there was no clock—nothing but the red flames,
- and the dim rows of books, and the hushed house, and themselves. They
- forgot to-night those three years of divergence—forgot that there
- was one set of facts centring about the Michigan lumberman and another
- about Margaret. To Halloran all of life had slipped away except that
- dreamy figure in the Morris chair, with the late red glow of the fire on
- her face and on her hair. Her eyes were half closed, and she turned them
- toward him now and then without moving her head. A smile hovered on her
- face—now on her lips, if he spoke to her—at other times
- flitting about her eyes. Her hands lay motionless on the arms of 'the
- chair. To both of them it was a rich glad time, so glad that it could best
- be explained by silence, tempered only at intervals by low voices; so rich
- that it poured its warmth into their very souls and quieted them, and gave
- them to know that such high moments are rare, that they must be conserved
- and guarded, must be lived through reverently.
- </p>
- <p>
- He looked at her shyly at first, with stolen glances, until in some silent
- way she gave him her permission; and then he looked long, not from his
- eyes alone, but from the new self within him which had risen almost to
- equality with that other self of hers. He knew this now—knew it to
- be gloriously true; and he felt a defiance of all life, of all the
- pressing facts and things that had crowded into his existence, a defiance,
- a consciousness of self that thrilled him with its reality. For the first
- time in his life he knew that those solid things were not real. And his
- soul was awed and humbled.
- </p>
- <p>
- And she looked at him—shyly always, yet conscious of what she was
- too honest to deny. And the occasional pressure of her sensitive mouth,
- the twitch of her eyelid as the light wavered over it, were not needed to
- show him that she, too, was wholly given up to the reality—that her
- life was gathered up to-night, with his, into one full hour of happiness.
- </p>
- <p>
- Into this Arden came the distant whistle of a locomotive. Her eyes sought
- his, and at the expression they found there she shook her head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That is going the other way,” she said softly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sorry”—he looked at his watch—“I have just time for the
- last train.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He rose and stood a moment looking at the fire. Then he came over and
- leaned on the back of the chair and reached down and raised her hand in
- his. She almost shivered at his touch, but he held it firmly; and after a
- moment, in which the blood seemed to leave her face, her fingers closed on
- his and clasped them tightly.
- </p>
- <p>
- And then he forgot all about the last train. He knew that the impulse that
- he had feared so long had at last mastered him, and he was wildly,
- exultantly glad. He slipped down on the broad arm of the chair and held
- her hand on his knee, and looked down at her hair; whilst she, still with
- that occasional compression of the lips, gazed into the fire. For her,
- too, everything had slipped into oblivion—everything but the red,
- red glow of the dying fire and the clasp of his hand in hers and the touch
- of his other hand on her hair. There was nothing else in the world for her
- to-night; and her happiness was so poignant that she felt herself swept
- blindly along with him, past all the obstacles of convention, of small
- misunderstandings, of outside interests, on up to heights that had never
- before during her quiet lifetime even entered her imagination. At moments
- her fingers would tighten on his and strange, happy tears would fill her
- eyes, to be kept back only by an effort. Once she could not keep them
- back; and he looked down and saw them on her cheek, and she did not care.
- Tears were trivial, now that her soul was laid bare to him.
- </p>
- <p>
- At another time she spoke so softly that he could not hear, and he bent
- down his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You are not going to try to get back to the city?” she repeated, in a
- voice from which all strength, all the body had gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—I'm going down to the hotel.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her clasp tightened again by way of reply.
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the wild, sweet message came to this man and this young woman. It
- told them how deeply those earlier years of friendship had entered their
- natures; it let them know how much stronger it was than will or habit—how
- it had chained their two lives so firmly together that only a few moments
- had been needed to-night to show it plainly to them both. A look of the
- eye, a tone in the voice, and it was done. From that moment their lives
- had changed; and where-ever the new current might lead them, whatever
- might be waiting in the dim, luminous years beyond, the new fact must
- control their thoughts. The old days were gone; the new had begun.
- </p>
- <p>
- Was it strange that he should think of this, that the meaning of it all
- should flash through his mind; whilst she, with her sensitive nature
- wholly bound up in this moment, should be thinking of nothing, should be
- conscious of nothing, save that he was here? Was this strange? Her eyes
- were still fixed on the embers; she seemed unable to raise them to his. In
- all her life she had never before given up. Her impulses had never before
- swept her reason from its seat and held her, trembling and amazed, in
- their grip. It was new and wonderful to her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret,” he said, in the low voice that expressed the most, “dare I
- look at my watch?” She smiled and tightly held his hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She shook her head.
- </p>
- <p>
- He caught up a lock of her hair and held it against the light. It
- glistened like fine-spun gold. He leaned down and pressed it to his lips;
- and again he felt that tightening of her fingers, that slight shiver
- passing through her. He bent forward and saw that the tears had escaped
- again. “Margaret,” he whispered, “look up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Her eyes lifted a little, then dropped. He waited and then whispered
- again, “Look up, dear.” Slowly she raised them until they met his fairly,
- and their two souls were gazing straight, each to each. Her fingers
- tightened and tightened; she was trembling. And at last he caught her
- wildly with both his arms and drew her against him and kissed her
- forehead, her eyes, her mouth. And her tears fell without restraint.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dear girl,” he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, “Dear girl, you
- love me—I know you love me. I have waited—it is a long while
- that I have waited—but all the waiting is over now. Tell me that it
- is all over—that we are going to begin our lives—our life—new
- again. Tell me that we are going to be happy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a moment during which she struggled to free herself. “Don't, oh,
- don't!” she cried brokenly. “Please stop, John!” And he, hurt and
- wondering, released her, and stood up, watching her stupidly as she fell
- back in the chair and covered her eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- Poor Halloran! He had been supposing that he understood her—that he
- really could see a little way into that complex nature. And the discovery
- that he was still far on the outside of her personality brought a cruel
- shock. He could not know that while his thoughts had rambled ahead,
- constructing their life, hers had been absorbed in the happiness of that
- one golden hour. He could not understand how his words, and the
- realization of what this evening meant to them both, had burst upon her
- with a force that frightened her. He could not be expected to know what a
- struggle had come with this first open thought of giving herself up to a
- man—what questions it raised, what problems of wholly reconstructing
- a life; how the great question loomed before her in dimensions that seemed
- almost tragic. He could not understand this; and so, when he finally
- spoke, it was with a touch of quiet dignity:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret,” he said, “I have asked you to be my wife.” There was a more
- and more appealing quality in his voice as he went on. “I have asked you
- to be my wife. Can't you give me your answer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She shook her head without uncovering her eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shall I come for it to-morrow, then, Margaret? I think I have told you
- everything. You know that I love you. I can't live without you—I
- dread even to think of waiting. It means so much to me, Margaret, so very
- much, that I don't know——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused, for his voice was beginning to shake a little. Still she was
- silent.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you”—it was getting difficult to speak—“have you nothing
- to tell me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, John,” she managed to say, “I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is—is that all, Margaret?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You must not come to-morrow—I can't let you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A week, then, Margaret?—a—a month?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know—you must not stay.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He waited a little, then walked slowly to the hall. When he had his coat
- nearly on she came to the doorway. He waited again, hat in hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good—good-night,” she said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is that———”
- </p>
- <p>
- She shook her head nervously, hurriedly, and he opened the door and went
- out.
- </p>
- <p>
- And when he had gone, when his last step had died away in the still air,
- she sank down on the stairs and sobbed, trembling in the power of this
- passion. What had she done! What had she done! Her thoughts ranged madly.
- She thought of the three years of divergence; of his habits, of hers; of
- all the things, great and trivial, that bore on the question; she tried to
- remember what had happened this night, and could not. She only knew that
- this strange power had mastered her; and she was afraid of it and of him.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER X—A Letter
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>r. Bigelow sat in
- the chair: behind and around him were the speakers of the evening, grouped
- with the Committee of the Society of the Preservation of the Home; before
- him extended rows upon rows of citizens, all of them vigorously applauding
- the last speaker, all of them, without regard to private cellars, bent
- upon stamping out the saloon evil in their suburb.
- </p>
- <p>
- An usher mounted the platform and laid a folded slip of paper on the
- table. The Chairman unfolded it, read it with great composure, and
- inclined his head to signify an affirmative reply. This was the note:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Dear Sir:</i> May I see you for a few moments after the meeting, on
- business of great importance.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Appleton Le Duc.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Probably a reporter,” thought the Chairman. A draft of his opening speech
- lay in his inside pocket, and if this man was attached to a reputable
- paper he would be welcome to it. Mr. Bigelow made it an invariable rule to
- be courteous to newspaper men.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the close of the meeting, therefore, as he was donning his coat, the
- usher touched him on the arm.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is the man who wished to see you, Mr. Bigelow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Chairman turned and beheld a tall, thin individual, with a long face,
- wearing somewhat conspicuous clothes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do,” he said, in a genial tone, extending his hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- The thin man took it and glanced sharply at Mr. Bigelow—a glance
- full of curious interest. A change had been taking place in Apples since
- we last saw him. Evidently the care of his wife and his wife's mother, and
- the prospect of a visit from the stork at once reducing the family income
- and materially increasing the outgo, had quieted the effervescence of his
- youth and set him thinking.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you have no objection,” said Le Duc, “I will walk along with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “None whatever,” replied Mr. Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- They walked together out of the building and followed that part of the
- crowd which had turned westward.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, sir,” observed, the Chairman, “what can I do for you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Le Due answered in a low, even voice—a voice which, if it showed
- embarrassment and effort, showed also determination.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You were formerly married, I believe, to a woman who is now known as Mrs.
- Craig.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Dwelling, as it had been, on the plaudits, the hearty enthusiasms of the
- evening, on the written speech reposing in an inside pocket, Mr. Bigelow's
- mind came to earth with a shock. He stopped abruptly, threw a quick look
- at the thin man, and then, recalling that the sidewalk was still covered
- with people, he moved on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have you come here to discuss my private affairs?” he said brusquely.
- </p>
- <p>
- “In a sense, yes. The matter has been put into my hands, and I thought the
- most satisfactory thing would be to come out here and talk to you. Of
- course, if you'd rather I'd see somebody else, it makes no difference to
- me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow was silent for a moment. Le Due glanced sideways at him as
- they passed under a corner light, and was glad to observe that he had
- penetrated the man's armour.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you a lawyer?” was the Chairman's abrupt question.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In what capacity have you come here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, you see, Lizzie, Mrs. Craig's daughter, is my wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow's reply was a half-audible grunt. “Mrs. Craig, you understand,
- is really suffering. She has no income and we have been keeping her with
- us; but I am not in a position to do much for her—not as much as I
- should like.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do you want of me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I believe—that you agreed to support her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, how much do you want?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That isn't it, you see.” Somewhat eagerly this. “It wasn't only that you
- agreed to support her, but the courts decided that you should. So it isn't
- a question of what you might offer or me accept, but of how much is owing
- on past years. I think I can understand it—I suppose a man gets
- tired of paying out money he doesn't get any return for—and of
- course it's been a good many years——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never mind about that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—you see—I've thought there was some misunderstanding
- about the business. She says you told her to go to law if she wanted to,
- but I thought she must have misunderstood you. Of course, she could, you
- know, but her case is very good, I think. It would be expensive all
- 'round; and it mightn't be pleasant.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Very true, Apples. It might be decidedly unpleasant, now that a voluble
- young man, with apparently no regard for the proprieties, has sprung up
- from nowhere to push matters.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, what <i>do</i> you want?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've talked it all over with Mrs. Craig and she has told me just how
- things stand. She has kept a pretty regular account of everything; and she
- figures it out about like this. There were five years, nearly five, anyhow—we
- don't want to quibble over that—when she was to all intents and
- purposes paid up. Since then there haven't been any regular payments,
- except about five hundred dollars that's been given her in small sums. It
- was to be a thousand dollars a year, I believe. Five thousand five hundred
- from seventeen thousand leaves eleven thousand five hundred still due her—call
- it an even eleven thousand.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You say you are not a lawyer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is your business?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm—I'm an actor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where do you play?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “On the North Side.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What can you earn?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, the three of us—we are the three Le Ducs, you know—my
- wife and I, and Elmer, can get sixty a week for our turn.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mean to say you have a son old enough to play with you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, no—we only call him Elmer Le Duc. We haven't been married
- so long as that. But——-” However, this was not business, and
- he checked the confidence that was never far from the end of his tongue
- nowadays.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How long have you been on the stage?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nearly three years.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What did you do before that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was at college.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What college?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, in Evanston.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So?”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were now standing in front of the wide grounds of G. Hyde Bigelow.
- Peeping out from its screen of trees, far back behind the spacious lawn,
- could be seen the granite turrets of Mr. Bigelow's new house. The owner
- turned toward them as he reflected.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I will tell you what you do, Mr.—Mr. ————”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Le Duc.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Le Duc. You come to my office to-morrow at eleven. I think that by
- that time I will have a proposition that will interest you. Meantime,
- suppose we let this matter stand just where it is now. Is that
- satisfactory?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—certainly; perfectly so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well, I shall look for you to-morrow at eleven. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Maybe I had better leave one of my cards with you, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow turned into the grounds and disappeared among the trees, and
- Apples, bubbling with self-congratulations, hurried over to the trolley
- line.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Margaret was tired to-night. She was glad to be at home; and she threw
- herself on the library couch to rest for an hour while she awaited the
- final report of the day's labours. For George had been released from jail,
- thanks to the benevolence of the judge—himself a suburbanite—and
- to the clearness of the facts. It had called for very little effort on the
- part of Mr. Babcock, who had taken the case on his own shoulders, to make
- plain that George had been merely the cat's-paw of a gang of roughs. And
- now Mrs. Bigelow had promised Mr. Babcock that she would take in the boy
- and give him work about the house; so that apparently he was at last to
- have a start.
- </p>
- <p>
- At length Mr. Babcock himself came in. He was almost jaunty this evening;
- and his voice was pitched higher than usual.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do, Miss Davies?” he exclaimed. “Here I am with my report.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You brought him out, did you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. Mrs. Bigelow has him and promises to take the best of care of him.
- He seems a likely boy—unfortunate he wasn't better brought up. But
- of course he may take a brace—such things have happened.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know I have faith in George,” said Margaret warmly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I know. I hope you're right. Maybe you are. He'll be kept busy for
- awhile anyway, learning to groom the horses and milk the cows. That'll be
- good for him. Queer case, isn't it. Quite like a story. It has interested
- me immensely. Been a queer sort of day all around for me. If every day was
- like it I'd never get any business done. Came right in a busy season, too.
- Oh, I don't mean about the boy. That was because you were interested in
- him. I'd do as much any time you asked it—do it gladly. But I ran
- across Myers while I was over at the court building. He is going West, you
- know, for his wife's health, and wants to sell his house. You know it,
- don't you?—over on the Lake Front. He wants to sell bad and offers
- the place for next to nothing, so I promised him I'd stroll down there
- to-night and have a look at it. How would you like to go along? Your
- taste's rather better than mine, I think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—isn't it a little late?” He had never talked like this before;
- she was puzzled.
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—not so very—about nine. But I see you're tired, so don't
- think of it. Tell you what I'll do—I'll get him to let me have the
- plans, and we'll look them over together, and you tell me how they strike
- you. If it is in as good shape as I think I believe I'll buy—that
- is, if I can get a clear title.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is very attractive along the shore.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's the way it strikes me. And with good horses you'd hardly mind the
- distance. He says his library is finished in rose tints and Flemish oak.
- How does that sound?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very pretty, I should think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, doesn't it? So you really like the idea? I'm glad of that. You're
- the one I care most about pleasing.” He rose and looked down at her.
- “There's no use telling me you aren't tired: I can see it. You've worked
- like a good one to-day, and I'm going to let you get a little rest.” She
- rose.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll bring up the plans sometime before Sunday, and we'll go over them
- and see what we make of it. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled wearily and stood there until he had left the house; then she
- went upstairs and into Mrs. Davies's room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mother,” she said, with an odd little smile, “I want to go away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where, child?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know—-East, perhaps.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Davies looked quietly up from her knitting. “'How long have you been
- thinking of this?” she asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not very long—just to-day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They looked at each other for a moment in that same quiet way—Margaret
- still smiling, but with a suspicious shine in her eyes. Then suddenly she
- came over, slipped to the floor, and buried her face on her arms in her
- mother's lap.
- </p>
- <p>
- After a long silence Mrs. Davies asked:
- </p>
- <p>
- “When would you like to go, dear?” There was no reply. “Very soon?”
- Margaret raised her head a little way and was apparently about to speak,
- then lowered it again. “Would you like to go this week?” Still there was
- silence. But Mrs. Davies seemed to understand. “We might get away by
- Thursday or Friday, dearie, if you can get ready. Can you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- And Margaret murmured, without looking up: “Oh, yes, yes! I can be ready
- to-morrow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- As time went by the wisdom of Halloran's method of buying lumber became
- apparent. If the orders had not gone in almost simultaneously to the
- offices of the different companies the directors would probably have put
- their heads together and declined meeting such an unusually heavy demand.
- As it fell out, however, when the heads did finally go together, it was
- discovered that the mischief had been done, that nearly six million feet
- of lumber had been sold, in thirty or forty different lots, and for about
- $50,000 less than it would have brought at the normal rates. The
- possibility of speculators buying in the lumber had been discussed from
- the first; but the directors had not dreamed that such a movement could be
- actually completed before they could know it was going on. And then they
- found that each of the twenty odd companies had been pledged to these
- orders through its own authorized agents. Even now, after the door had
- been closed on an empty stable, it was not plain what per cent, of the
- sales had gone to speculators; for nearly every order had come from a
- regular dealer in one of a score of different cities and towns.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran soon found it difficult to buy, except in occasional small lots.
- His instructions to his agents still held good, however; and he hoped to
- increase his stock until he should have enough on hand to make good all
- the losses resulting from the fight. That was his idea—to make
- Bigelow pay the bills. Once this point was reached he would show his hand
- by bringing all the lumber to Wauchung.
- </p>
- <p>
- At this stage of the fight there was a pause. On one hand Halloran's
- countermove was practically ended; on the other, the Bigelow forces
- appeared as determined as ever to keep down prices and force Higginson out
- of business. Rumours were floating now and then, to be sure, that there
- was trouble in Kentucky Coal, but there was nothing at all definite. .
- </p>
- <p>
- One morning in the office—a nearly idle morning, as came about
- frequently now—Crosman remarked casually over his paper:
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's a big fight on in corn on the Board of Trade.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Something new, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. It seems the secret has just leaked out. A man named Le Duc———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Le Duc!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—Appleton Le Duc—sounds like a Frenchman, doesn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran left his chair and came over to Cros-man's side.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excuse me,” he said. “May I see it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly; take it, if you like. I'm through with it. It's a queer
- story.” He went on talking while Halloran was reading. “It seems he's a
- new man at the business, but they're calling him the new Com King already.
- They say he shows a regular genius for it. It looks as if he was going to
- corner the market. The paper says he used to be an actor.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran laid down the paper and perched himself on the corner of
- Crosman's flat-top desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's queer business,” he observed. “The last time I heard of Apples he
- was playing at a third-class variety house.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Friend of yours?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I knew him in college. If the paper weren't so sure about it, I'd say it
- was a mistake. He never did it himself—he hasn't any money, to begin
- with. Somebody's using him for a cat's-paw, plain enough; but I'd like to
- know how the Moses he ever got hold of a snap like that?” Halloran shook
- his head over it. “Do you ever read Mark Twain?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have—some.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you remember the story of the bad little boy that got rich and went to
- Congress, and died universally respected?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never read that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, it makes me think of Apples. The two poorest skates we had in
- college are turning out about the same way. The other fellow was a lazy
- beggar from down in Indiana. Came up to college to play baseball, but he
- didn't have grit enough to make the team. He never got anywhere in his
- work—spent three years in his fourth year Academy, I believe, before
- he gave it up. And no one ever knew how he lived. But one of the directors
- of a big steel company used to live out there, and this fellow scraped up
- money enough to buy a dress suit and join the local club, and took to
- playing billiards and drinking with the director's son, and finally got
- invited around to meet the family. Now he's the assistant secretary of the
- steel company, and has announced his engagement to the director's
- daughter. Enough to make you wonder a little sometimes, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The office door opened, just then, so abruptly that they both started.
- Looking up, they saw Captain Craig standing in the doorway, hatless,
- holding an open letter in his hand. He looked straight at Halloran as if
- he saw nothing else in the office.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I want to see you,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the odd sound of his voice, Crosman got up without a word and brushed
- by him into the outer office, gently pushing the door to behind him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sit down, Captain,” said Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain took the chair by the desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I went up to the house to see the Old Gentleman, but they wouldn't let me
- in.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; he is not allowed to see anybody. Will I do?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Craig seemed not to hear the reply. “I got a letter just now—and I
- wondered if I couldn't get away for a little while—I guess I won't
- be needed on the steamer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Certainly not.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I got a letter this morning—I didn't know as I read it straight—I
- haven't got my glasses with me——-” It seemed difficult for him
- to speak naturally, and he paused, staring at a glass paper-weight on the
- desk. His seamed, harsh old face was working. “My God! Mr. Halloran,” he
- broke out, “I don't hardly dare believe it! Here, read it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran took the letter and read what follows:
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Father</i>: I have waited a long, long time, and now I'm tired and I
- want to come home. You were right always—it was all a mistake. Now
- when I look back there are some parts of it that are like dreams to me. Do
- you think you could forgive me? Do you think you could let me come back
- and take care of your house for you?
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was all wrong, but I am older now—I have a girl of my own who has
- grown up and married—and I think I could understand better. I can
- imagine better, too, how you have suffered—how I have made you
- suffer—and now that there are times when my life seems clouded and
- unreal—some days and weeks even, when I look back I can hardly
- remember what I have said or done, or how I have lived—when I think
- of this, and think how my life seems to be slipping away from me, a little
- at a time, I feel that I just must come back to you. Of course, nothing
- can be undone, nothing can be lived over. I know that bitterly now—I
- feel it all the time, and especially at night when I lie awake and all
- these years come whirling up in my mind and confuse me and discourage me.
- But I have tried not to grow bitter. I have been hungry a good many times,
- and cold, and haven't had much to wear, but I have tried always to
- remember that the only way out is just the patient, honest way.
- </p>
- <p>
- “There may not be many years left to us, but wouldn't it be better to try
- to make them happy years? You see I'm writing as if I felt you had already
- forgiven me—I can't help it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Elizabeth is married, as I told you, and hasn't room for me any more.
- But, George is not a bad boy—you will like George, father, I know.
- And perhaps he will grow up into something better than I and make you feel
- yet that it was worth while.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is nineteen years to-day since you brought me down here on the old <i>Number
- One</i>—do you remember? I have never forgotten how you looked when
- you stood on the bridge and waved good-by. Well, my married life was not
- what I thought it would be, but somehow now, while I am writing this, it
- seems almost as if I could cut this long part of my life right out, and
- take up the first part again where I left it off that day. You will find
- me changed—I am getting to be quite an old woman—if all goes
- well, I may be a grandmother before the year is gone. Think of that!
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, father, I don't know what I am thinking of to be writing like this,
- when I ought to be down on my knees to you. But I can't help it. Can you
- forgive me, and let me begin again?
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jennie Craig.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran gazed at the letter until the silence grew oppressive and then he
- looked out the window. Craig was still staring at the paperweight; and
- when he finally spoke it was without shifting his eyes.
- </p>
- <p>
- “She was only eighteen when she went down to Chicago to work for Bigelow.
- She didn't know any better—G. Hyde Bigelow wasn't above marrying his
- clerk in those days. And then she found him out and got a divorce; and
- I've never heard since, until to-day. I guess—I guess there's a
- little pride in our family—she's never written—and I haven't.
- But, oh, God! Mr. Halloran———”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran turned at the exclamation, and then, with such a sense of
- helplessness as he had never before known, he lowered his eyes. For the
- Captain was crying.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going right down there,” the broken voice went on. “Have you a
- time-table here?” Halloran fumbled in his drawer, found the time-table,
- looked over the train schedule, marked the right column with his pencil
- and laid it before the Captain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “When is that? Ten-thirty?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; ten-thirty.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's in about an hour. Well, then, I suppose——-” He made as
- if to rise, but settled back again. Finally Halloran spoke.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think I know your daughter, Captain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I saw her several times a few years ago. I can tell you a good deal
- about George, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's a good girl. We used to think she took after me a little. I think
- maybe—I think I'll bring her right back with me to-night or
- tomorrow; and then you can come around and see us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. What would you say if I were to go down with you, Captain. Perhaps I
- could help you find her and George.” He hesitated a moment. “We'll bring
- the boy back, too. I guess we can manage to keep him busy around the
- office until the mills start up again.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you know how old he is?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “George must be about sixteen, I should say.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And the girl is married—she must be older—I guess I'm a
- little bewildered.” He got up now and stood silent by the desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll be ready for you in half an hour, Captain.” There seemed to be
- nothing more to say; and after another silence Craig went out. But later,
- during the hours on the train, Halloran had to tell over and over what he
- knew about George and Lizzie, their mother, and Le Duc.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XI—High Life at the Le Ducs
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hen at last they
- were on the cable-car, north bound, Craig broke the silence that had held
- through the latter half of the journey.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you suppose we could get them all together to-night—the boy, and
- the girl and her husband? We could have a supper somewhere.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think so. It will be a little late before I can get George back from
- Evanston—half-past eight or nine o'clock, probably.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain winced at the words. He knew now that George was a charity boy
- in the home of his own father.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you would like to set it for half-past eight, I will see Le Duc and
- then go out for George.” The Captain, whose head was in no condition for
- planning even so much as a supper, accepted this arrangement without a
- word. They were silent again until they left the car.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wonder if she'll know me,” Craig mused, as they walked along, “I ain't
- the same as I was then—it's a long time, Mr. Halloran, a long time.
- She was a pretty girl—always had a laugh for one—I've often
- thought of her energy and nerve. She had a way of going at things, I tell
- you. When she got a notion she ought to earn her own living there couldn't
- anything stop her. Are we getting near it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just a little way now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's good. It's queer how long a day can be—and after most twenty
- years, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- At the door Halloran paused. It was in a mean street, meaner even than the
- old quarters near Hoffman's saloon, and the stairs leading up to the
- living-rooms above were crowded in between a cheap restaurant and a much
- less respectable saloon than Hoffman's.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Captain, I'll leave you here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—aren't you coming in?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; I haven't any too much time. I know Le Duc's address—I read it
- in the paper this morning. We will meet here at half-past eight.” Craig
- was about to protest, but Halloran hurried off; and the Captain started
- alone up the stairway.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Le Ducs were living at an apartment hotel not far from the Lake Shore
- Drive. From the appearance of the building and the neighbourhood Halloran
- inferred that the corn market was proving a profitable field for Apples.
- He inquired for him and was taken up in the elevator and shown into a neat
- little parlour on an upper floor, commanding a view of the lake. Being
- received by a maid in a cap and apron, he repeated his inquiry, only to
- learn that Mr. Le Duc was not at home—had not yet returned from his
- office. Could he see Mrs. Le Duc? The maid hesitated. But as time was
- pressing, he persisted. Would she please tell her mistress that Mr.
- Halloran had come with an important message from Mrs. Le Duc's mother and
- grandfather. The maid turned away and had nearly crossed the room when she
- was intercepted by a loud whisper from behind the double doors of the next
- room:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Ask him to wait.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So Halloran sat down and looked at the photographs of actors and actresses
- that crowded the walls—prominent among which were large prints of
- Appleton Le Duc and Elizabeth Le Duc and Elmer Le Duc—until Apples
- himself, wearing a prosperous air, better dressed, but still dapper, still
- with a flash somewhere in his get-up, opened the door, and Halloran rose
- to meet him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How—how are you? Oh, this must be Halloran. I knew you at college.
- How are you? What can I do for you? Sit down, Halloran. Excuse me a minute
- while I take off my coat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Apples disappeared into the next room, and as the door closed behind him
- there was an audible smack, followed by whispering. He shortly returned
- with a puzzled expression.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Excuse me for keeping you waiting, Halloran. There are so many claims on
- me these days that I can't get away from my office as early as I'd like.
- Now tell me what I can do for you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is a long story, Apples”—the Corn King seemed to dislike the
- word—“but you'll hear it all soon enough. What it amounts to is,
- that Mrs. Craig's father, who is a steamer captain, is working for the
- same company that employs me, and——-”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you're a sailor now, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not exactly that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let me see, you went in for that sort of thing a good deal in the old
- days, didn't you? Weren't you on the Life-Saving Crew at college?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I was. Captain Craig has come down here to take Mrs. Craig back home
- with him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you don't say so!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And he would like you and Mrs. Le Duc to meet him and Mrs. Craig at her
- rooms to-night and take supper with them—at half-past eight. I'm
- going out now for George.” He rose to go.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'll tell you, Halloran”—Apples had risen, too, and was
- speaking in a low, confidential voice—“between ourselves, my wife
- isn't going out much now, and I'm afraid we can't do it. We'd like to very
- much, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again came the whisper from behind the door. “Appleton!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, dearie. Excuse me a second, Halloran.” He slipped out again and
- there was more whispering. When he returned it was to say: “My wife would
- be very glad to have you all come here instead. We will have the supper up
- here in our apartment. Tell them we'll be very glad to see them—and
- you, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thank you. I'll tell them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Apples showed him out, and as he left the building and headed for the
- State Street trolley he found himself thinking much of Apples and his rise
- in life.
- </p>
- <p>
- When he was on the Evanston train, however, he had something else to think
- about. In order to get George he must go either to the Bigelows' home or
- to Margaret's. Not one of the letters he had written since that evening
- had been answered. Besides, he was not in the right frame of mind to see
- her—or he thought he was not, which amounted to the same thing. All
- day he had been deep in the trouble of the Craig family, and in his talk
- about coming out after George he had not taken time to think just how he
- was to manage it. But he was realizing it now as he left the train and
- started up toward the Ridge; and as this is to be an honest history, the
- facts of what followed must be told.
- </p>
- <p>
- Half-way up from the station, while he was walking briskly along, boasting
- inwardly that he was calm and ready to see Margaret, his legs, without
- warning him, turned him off on a side street. When he had rounded the
- block, and had convinced himself that now he was headed straight for the
- Ridge, they deceived him again. This was humiliating, and, more, was not
- the way to march to victory. Twice he walked around the square, but the
- third time, by a strong effort, he succeeded in passing the fatal corner.
- Soon he could see the house a little way ahead. It occurred to him that he
- was rushing along at an absurd speed, and he walked more slowly. A moment
- more and he was in front of the house, was turning in up the walk—but,
- no, he was mistaken; for the legs, suddenly out of all control, carried
- him by and nearly a block farther up the street before he could check them
- and get them headed straight. He found he could manage them better by
- stepping once on each square of the cement walk, squarely in the middle
- each time; and he could keep this up by giving all his mind to it. This
- made it necessary to take rather long steps, but the twilight was
- deepening, and, besides, there were few other pedestrians on the street.
- Again he drew near. He looked up at the windows—they were dark,
- excepting a light in the rear and one upstairs. Something forbidding about
- the square old house, with its rows of unlighted windows, chilled his
- heart, struck deep into the energy that had carried him thus far, and he
- faltered. But this would not do. He forced his eyes down to the sidewalk
- and resolutely put his right foot on the next square of cement—then
- his left on the second square—and on, step by step, up the front
- walk. He mounted the steps and crossed the wide veranda to the door—then
- hurriedly pushed the bell.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a long wait. After a time he heard doors opening and closing
- within, and the sound of a person moving; finally there were footsteps in
- the hall and the door was opened.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is—is Miss Davies here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—no. Miss Davies and her mother have gone East.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gone East!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; they are in the mountains—in Woodland Valley.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Woodland Valley!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. I couldn't tell you when they'll be back. They didn't know
- themselves when they left.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A moment more and the door had closed and Halloran was down on the
- sidewalk. He turned aimlessly up the street. Gone East!—and no word
- for him! Perhaps his letters had not even reached her. Why had he not come
- straight back to Evanston that same week and claimed his answer? What an
- invertebrate creature he was, anyway! What a gloomy evening! How the
- shadows of the maples and elms closed down on his thoughts! The arc lamps
- at the corners, the long row of houses glowing with light, all smiled at
- him and drove him deeper into the gloom. Gone East!
- </p>
- <p>
- It occurred to him that he had come out for another purpose. There was
- nothing for it now but to go to the Bigelows'; and with a glance at his
- watch, he turned in that direction.
- </p>
- <p>
- The family were at dinner, he was informed, but Mrs. Bigelow would see him
- in a few moments. He was shown into a reception-room, where he could drop
- into a chair in the bay window and look in between the portières down the
- length of the living-room. The furniture was rich and heavy; the mantels
- and tables and bookcases were laden with bric-à-brac; the walls were
- covered with paintings and engravings, some of them fairly good, all of
- them very costly. From the dining-room came the jingle of knives and forks
- and the laughter of children, and now and then the heavy voice of Mr.
- Bigelow dominating. Then he heard the rustle of skirts and in came Mrs.
- Bigelow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do, John? It is a long time since we have seen you. You must
- have gone away from Evanston when you left college.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I'm not living here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where are you now, John?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm up in Michigan.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You have a position there?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I have heard Mr. Bigelow say that there are really about as good
- openings in the country as in the city. It is so overcrowded in Chicago.
- Are you getting on well?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I—I guess so—as well as I could expect.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am very glad to hear that—and Mr. Bigelow will be, too. He really
- took quite an interest in you, John. He is always glad to know that the
- young men he has been interested in are getting on.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have come down to Chicago to-day, Mrs. Bigelow, to look for a boy; and
- I have heard he is here. His name is George—George Bigelow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, yes; George. It is odd that he should have our name. He is a
- Settlement boy—Mr. Babcock rescued him from I don't know what
- distress. I wondered if there were any distant branch of the family that
- could have dropped in the world, but Mr. Bigelow says there is no
- connection whatever. It is a very common name in Chicago, he says. It
- seems that the boy's family is worthless, and he himself has already been
- in jail. But he seems to feel some remorse, and I am not letting it make
- any difference here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain Craig, his grandfather, heard to-day from George's mother, after
- a long separation. We happen to be employed by the same company and I have
- come down with him to find his family. He wants to take them all back with
- him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To take him back? Why, he has been here only a little while. Did you mean
- to take him yourself?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain Craig plans to give them all a supper this evening, and I
- promised him I would be on hand with George.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Very well; I will send for him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She stepped to the hall and rang a bell. While she was speaking to the
- maid Mr. Bigelow came into the hall, with a little girl hanging to each
- arm. He paused in the doorway of the reception-room and nodded to
- Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do,” he said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “This is John Halloran, dear,” said his wife, turning. “He has come to
- take George away. George's grandfather, he tells me, is really quite
- respectable.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Bigelow had shaken off the children and was getting into his overcoat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It is just as well,” he replied, without looking around. “We really have
- no work for him here.” At this moment the subject of the talk himself
- appeared, advancing bashfully, overcome by the splendour about him, and
- not yet knowing why he had been summoned. He looked at Halloran for a
- moment before he recognized him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you, George,” said Halloran, advancing and holding out his hand.
- “Do you remember me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- George blushed, grinned and took his hand; and as he did so, Mr. Bigelow,
- with his coat buttoned and one glove on, turned around. He looked at
- George—a tall, awkward, ill-dressed boy of sixteen—with a
- curious, gruff expression, then his eyes shot one quick, inquiring look at
- Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'll excuse me,” he said, recovering. And without speaking further he
- went out and shut the door hard behind him.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come, George,” said Halloran; “I'm going to take you to a new home. Have
- you any truck to carry?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing much.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get your coat, then, and come along.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When they had reached the tenement and were nearly at the top of the
- stairway Halloran pushed George ahead.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Go in there, George. You'll find them together.”.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I hear 'em talking. But ain't you coming?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, not yet. Go ahead.”
- </p>
- <p>
- George opened the door and Halloran went back a little way down the stairs
- and sat down. It was dark and dirty. On all sides, above and below, were
- noises—babies squalling, men and women quarreling—but he heard
- little; his thoughts were speeding of! to the eastern mountains. There was
- a young woman in those mountains—where the leaves were beginning to
- turn, perhaps, as here in the West—only a thousand miles away. What
- had he been waiting for? Was it for her to write? How had he supposed her
- answer was to come? What stood in the way—circumstances? Some other
- one? Or was it that the only obstacle was a certain person sitting, at
- this moment, on a dark stairway in a tenement? More likely the latter—but
- how was he to discover it so close home? It was rather more fun to be
- miserable. Family reunion on one side of his thoughts, all hopes a
- thousand miles removed on the other side—on the whole, he preferred
- dark stairways.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Halloran, are you there? It's so dark I can't see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; coming right up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I was afraid you'd get away from us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, but I must be off now.” They were entering the room. “Le Duc wants
- you all over there to supper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Over there?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You mustn't go now, Mr. Halloran. He asked you, too, didn't he? Of course
- he did.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, I'd like to, but——
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, see here, after the turn things have taken we couldn't have the
- supper without you. That's a part of it, you see—it's the way I
- planned it. You've got to come.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, if you feel that way———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We do, and that's all there is about it. I guess we'd better be starting
- over, hadn't we? It's most half-past now. Where's your jacket, Jennie?”
- Mrs. Craig had no jacket, it appeared; but the Captain helped her on with
- her shawl. “Got your hat, George? Better let me have your arm, Jennie,
- going down the stairs. It's pretty dark.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I know these stairs, father.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's so; I suppose you do. All ready, Mr. Halloran?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All ready, Captain. I'll put out the light. Go ahead.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They went down the stairs two and two, Mrs. Craig and the Captain,
- Halloran and George, and walked toward the lake, through the vicious quiet
- of the side streets, through the merriment of North Clark Street, through
- the sober, comfortable region of stone houses and big churches—on to
- the imposing private hotel where dwelt the Le Ducs.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm afraid, father,” whispered Mrs. Craig, “that I'm not exactly dressed
- for this.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nonsense! My daughter needn't be ashamed to go anywhere. I wouldn't give
- <i>that</i> for a girl that wouldn't be glad to see her own mother, no
- matter if she came in a sunbonnet. There's nothing the matter with this
- shawl, I guess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, no; but it's old. And they're not wearing shawls now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do we care about that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't care if you don't.” And so determined was she not to care that
- she managed to force a little smile as her feet sank into the carpet and
- the door-boy stood aside to let her pass.
- </p>
- <p>
- Le Duc himself opened the door and greeted the group in the hall with a
- “How are you? Come in!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They filed into the room, where a table was spread for them, and stood
- about awkwardly. Mrs. Craig busied herself with her bonnet and shawl,
- George stood on one leg and then on the other, and looked at the carpet;
- and Halloran slipped into the background. But the Captain broke the
- silence by advancing toward Le Duc.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This must be Appleton, I take it. I'm glad to see you, young man—glad
- to welcome you into my family.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Apples took the outstretched hand and murmured something.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And where's Lizzie? I've got to see her before you can make me believe
- I've got a granddaughter old enough to be married. You'd never think it to
- look at Jennie, there, would you? Isn't she coming?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here I am,” said the young woman herself, appearing in the doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain looked at her while the others stood silent; finally he walked
- around the table to meet her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I—I can't believe it. I'm just going to kiss you, my dear. I guess
- your husband won't object if you kiss your own grandfather, will he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no; certainly not,” said Le Duc.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, well, so here we really are—all of us! Now we must have a
- good time of it. Where are we to sit, granddaughter? Don't forget to put
- me next to yourself. This almost makes me feel as if I was back in the old
- house.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They took their places, and two waiters from the hotel restaurant appeared
- to serve them. And then Le Duc, with some sense of his responsibility as
- host, endeavoured to set the talk going, but without marked success. For
- both Mrs. Craig and her daughter felt awkward, and the Captain could not
- entirely master the oppressiveness of the surroundings and of the waiters
- in their dress suits. Halloran made one effort to enliven matters.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain, Apples”—Le Duc's nose went up a little at the word—“Apples
- was on the beach the night you came ashore in the surf-boat.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't say so? Strange, isn't it, the way things come around, and the
- people you've met once are sure to turn up again? If I don't remember you,
- Appleton, it's because I wasn't feeling in shape to see anything that
- night but what was left of the old steamer. An ugly time that was. There
- was an hour or so before you lighted up your fire when I wouldn't have
- given half a dollar for our chances. The steamer was breaking up fast.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Let me see,” said Apples, “that must have been in my college days. Do you
- remember just when it was, Halloran?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm not likely to forget it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It was up the shore toward Glencoe, wasn't it? I remember one wreck up
- that way—you crew fellows had quite a time of it, didn't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- After this feeble light on the conversation, darkness fell again; and the
- little family ate almost in silence, until the waiters brought in a
- platter of ducks and set them before Le Duc. The host looked suspiciously
- on them, then glanced at Lizzie. Finally, while his fingers toyed
- nervously with the carving knife and fork, his eyes sought the waiters;
- but one had left the room and the other was busy with the vegetables.
- Evidently he was expected to begin carving—the table waited,
- silently and expectantly—so he planted the fork in the right wing of
- the first duck and began. It did not go well. A brown fringe of gravy
- decorated the table-cloth around the platter, and little specks flew out
- occasionally toward the guests. Lizzie turned to Halloran and asked if he
- was living in the city now; and he replied that he was not. The brown
- fringe was widening; and George was watching the performance with
- increasing interest. Lizzie persisted: “Are you going to be here long,
- this visit?” No, he was going back to-morrow. The diversion failed here,
- and they waited in silence. Apples was breathing hard. At length, a quick,
- unskilful movement caused something to slip, and the end duck hopped
- neatly out on the table-cloth and settled down in a pool of gravy. Apples
- leaned back in his chair and looked at Lizzie.
- </p>
- <p>
- “My dear”—he began. But the waiter was at his elbow, saying,
- </p>
- <p>
- “Shall I serve it, sir?”
- </p>
- <p>
- At this point the Captain rose, napkin in hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll tell you what, Appleton,”, he said, “you just change places with me.
- If there's one thing I know, it's ducks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- After this, in spite of the gloom that settled on the host, the evening
- went better. And when the party broke up, at what the Captain called a
- scandalous hour, and scattered to hotel and tenement, there was some
- cordiality in the chorus of good-nights and good-byes. In the morning, by
- an early train, the three members of the Craig family and Halloran
- returned to Wauchung.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER XII—The Pine Comes In
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>hat settles it,”
- exclaimed Halloran, tossing a letter on the desk.
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman looked up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We've placed our last order for lumber this season,” said Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have the Trust people waked up?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. Our Oconomowoc man writes that they refuse to sell him another foot
- unless they're assured that it won't come to us. They're pretty late about
- it. We've got nearly all we want. Well, that ends it, anyhow. The next
- thing is to get it all in. There's no use paying storage to all those
- fellows now that we're found out. I wish you'd see about getting both
- steamers off as soon as you can—send them to Chicago and Milwaukee,
- where we have the biggest lots. We'll write for steamers and schooners for
- the other towns.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can we get it all in the yards? There's a lot here now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Got to. It will crowd up close to the mills, but we can't help it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That will raise the insurance premium—clear up to the mill rate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Do you want me to go ahead with the insurance?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; not yet. Speak to me again about it in a day or so. This lumber isn't
- going to help us out very far if we let all our profits go out in storage
- and commissions and carriage and insurance. I don't know but what we'll
- have to carry it ourselves. It isn't just the weather I'd have picked out—but
- this business isn't of our choosing, anyway. I'd like to find out how much
- old G. Hyde knows about us. I don't believe he's got on the track of the
- whole stock.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so the order went out to concentrate all the lumber at Wauchung; and
- at the flying word, passing from house to house, that at last there was to
- be work at the yards, Wauchung stirred and aroused. Again men came
- flocking to the office, shouldering peavies and cant-hooks and clamouring
- for employment. Sailors appeared to man the steamers and were set to
- scrubbing and polishing. Coal-wagons rumbled through the yards to the
- wharves, bringing food for the furnaces. Men went about grinning and
- joking and slapping backs heartily, and swapping yams about the Old
- Gentleman in his palmy days, ten and twenty years before. Robbie MacGregor
- appeared, fatter than ever after his enforced idleness, growling at all
- the known works of the Creator, and refusing to speak civilly to any one
- until he had let himself into his greasy blue overalls and was free to
- finger his levers, and dress down the oilers, and swear gloriously at the
- new hands in the stoke-room.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-afternoon, Mr. Halloran,” said Captain Craig, when he reached the
- office. “When are we to start?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-night, if you have your men. MacGregor's on hand now, getting up
- steam.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good for Robbie.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By the way, Captain, I'll try to have some work for George as soon as the
- first lot of lumber gets in.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's good. You'll find him ready for you. I'll be glad to get started
- again myself—it's been a mean pull; and there just wasn't any
- getting along with Robbie. I never saw him so down. Dry weather, isn't
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, better for you than for us. Are you going to let Bigelow steal your
- men off you this trip?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I hardly think so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You may have a chance yet—you're to go to Chicago.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain smiled dryly. He was in fine mettle now; his clear eyes and
- sound colour belied his wrinkles and the white streaks in his hair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wish he'd try it,” he replied. “We'll be glad to hear from him any
- time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Late that afternoon the two steamers swung away from the wharves, one
- after the other, steamed out through the channel, passed the life-saving
- station and the lighthouse, and headed, the <i>Higginson Number 1</i>,
- sou'west-by-south toward Chicago, the Number 2 sou'west toward Milwaukee,
- to bring in the first loads of lumber. And a thrill went through the
- yards, where there were a few men at work, and passed on to the long lines
- of waiting labourers outside, as the shouts of the officers and the rumble
- of the engines and the wash of the propellers sounded through the dry
- autumn air. The mills were still silent the little world that depended
- almost for its existence on the movements of that machinery was still
- suffering from poverty and idleness, was still facing the possibility of a
- winter without employment; but somehow the sight of the two steamers once
- more plowing up the water of the harbour, of the blue smoke once more
- spreading low over the sand-dunes and over the sparkling lake that
- stretched beyond, spoke to them of new life at the Higginson yards. If the
- steamers were started out after the long wait, why might not the mills be
- soon humming and singing again, why might not the ax again flash and
- strike in the forest, and the songs of the river gang again ring down the
- long reaches of pine-edged water? The possibility was in the thoughts of
- them all as their eyes followed the steamers far out into the lake, and
- lingered on the fading smoke long after the boats themselves had dropped
- over the southwestern horizon. It was something to be moving again; and
- every one was a little more cheerful that evening for what they had seen
- and felt.
- </p>
- <p>
- Now that the steamers were on the way, Halloran found that he had a
- problem on his hands. More than six million feet of lumber demands a large
- area, and the question of getting it into the yards was a serious one.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Higginson yards occupied a peninsula, formed on the inland side by the
- Wauchung River, on the other side by the harbour. This harbour was in
- reality a small lake, such as one will find duplicated every little way
- for a hundred and fifty miles on the eastern coast of Lake Michigan. The
- prevailing west winds have thrown up a line of high dunes along this
- shore, forming a natural dam at the mouth of each of the many small
- rivers. The Government had at Wauchung, as at many similar places, dredged
- out a channel that enabled steamers to get in to the wharves and to turn
- in the harbour.
- </p>
- <p>
- The two mills were on the upper or river side of the peninsula, where they
- could receive the logs that were floated down from the timberlands.
- </p>
- <p>
- From the mills the cut timber was run out on elevated tramways and piled
- along the wharves. Ordinarily there was a wide space between the mills and
- the nearest pile of lumber. There was a provision, indeed, in the
- insurance policies, that it could not be piled nearer than two hundred
- feet without the payment of a higher premium; and if the piles should
- extend within fifty feet of the mills the rate mounted to an almost
- prohibitive point.
- </p>
- <p>
- The yards were surrounded by water on three sides—on the fourth were
- the cottages of the labourers and of the other poorer residents of the
- town. Halloran had a choice, then, between piling the lumber close around
- the mills (there being already a considerable quantity in the yards) and
- either paying the higher rate of insurance or going without, or carting it
- off and renting outside land for storage, thus adding a new item to his
- expenses. Every spare moment between this day and the arrival of the first
- steamer was spent in looking over the yards and planning the arrangement
- so as to get the best advantage of the space.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was on the second day after the departure of the steamers that Crosman
- burst into the office and cried:
- </p>
- <p>
- “She's coming in—the <i>Number Two!</i> I saw her funnels over the
- sand-hills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- His excitement was catching, and Halloran got up from his desk and looked
- out the window. Sure enough, there was the smoke, far out along the
- sky-line. A moment later, looking between the channel piers, he caught a
- glimpse of the steamer heading in toward the lighthouse.
- </p>
- <p>
- Watchful eyes had already seen her from the cottages near the beach; and
- as man after man hurried over to the yards to get an early place in the
- lines, the news spread through Wauchung. These men did not know what it
- meant—Bigelow was a myth to them, known, if at all, merely as an
- employer of labour twenty miles up the lake—but there was the
- steamer, bringing in a cargo of lumber that must be discharged and piled,
- and this meant work. Soon she was entering the channel; and they could see
- her Captain standing on the wheel-house roof with a hand resting on the
- bell-pull. And while Halloran went over to the wharf to direct the work,
- Crosman was kept busy giving out time-checks and cant-hooks and sending
- man after man across the yards.
- </p>
- <p>
- Then she was in the harbour, was slipping up to the wharf; the engine-room
- bell jingled, and the propeller churned the water; the lines were thrown
- out and caught by eager hands, and the <i>Higginson No. 2</i> lay
- motionless at the wharf, her deck piled high with yellow hemlock and pine.
- The labourers swarmed over the rail and went at the work with the spirit
- of men who know what hunger means. The donkey-engines at each end of the
- deck rattled and clanked as the hoisting-spars were lowered over the
- cargo. And not a man on the ground, from Halloran down, but felt the
- impetus that the arrival of this first load of lumber had given to all
- Wauchung. Some of the men showed it by laughing easily, others by swearing
- easily, and now and then they would all break out into a song that would
- almost have shocked Jimmie McGinnis himself if he had been there to hear
- it—to the immortal air of
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- “My father and mother were Irish,
- </p>
- <p class="indent15">
- And I was Irish, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br />
- </p>
- <p>
- They did not know that this song had been shouted by valiant fighters and
- workers in many tongues—sometimes to reputable words, oftener not—for
- centuries, nor did they care. It would not have interested them to hear
- that, thanks to its wonderful vitality, this same melody had served
- generations of students as “We won't go home till morning”; had swung
- thousands of wearied French soldiers along wild roads before Napoleon was
- born as “<i>Malbrouck s'en va-t-en guerre</i>”; had perhaps led white-clad
- swordsmen, with a lilt and rhythm that fairly lifted the feet, off to the
- taking of Jerusalem nearly a thousand years ago. And now here it was
- again, sung to disreputable words, but as truly as ever a shout of
- good-will and dauntless effort. Somebody had bucked the Old Gentleman—no
- matter who or how—and the Old Gentleman, through Mr. Halloran, was
- bucking back, was nearer than ever to winning. And when he should win, as
- win he must, there would be steady work and meat every day for the
- labourers of Wauchung. This was all they knew or cared. But was the spirit
- less honest and earnest than the spirit of those jack-booted Frenchmen or
- those white-clad crusaders? Allowing for the glamour of the past, for the
- shining mist that enlarges the old figures as their real outlines grow
- steadily fainter, were these hard-handed fellows, heaving the new lumber
- from the deck of the <i>Number Two</i> to the wharf, laughing and joking
- and swearing like pirates all the while, so different? Was there no
- romance here?
- </p>
- <p>
- Before the work had begun, Halloran saw Du Bois, an old lumber inspector,
- on the wharf and called to him. The old man, a soft felt hat pulled down
- on the side of his head, his gray beard streaked with tobacco, turned and
- waited for him to come up.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have a boy here, Du Bois” [pronounced DoO Boyce], “who thinks he'd like
- to learn lumber-checking. Suppose you take hold of him and see if we can
- make anything out of him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Mr. Halloran. Where is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Up at the office. You'd better send a man after him. His name's George
- Bigelow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, sir; I'll keep an eye on him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Inspector spat voluminously and hailed one of the labourers.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hi, you there! Run up to the office and tell George to get a scale and a
- tally-board and come down here. Grease your knees!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The labourer ambled off and soon returned with George.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, young man,” said Du Bois, “they tell me you're a lumber-checker.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I—I thought maybe I could learn.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's that in your hand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A tally-board.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Other hand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A scale.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's the size of that stick over there? No, don't scale it—stand
- here. What are your eyes for?”
- </p>
- <p>
- George had not passed the last few days idly. The lumbermen were a
- picturesque, vigorous lot of men, and simply by associating with them he
- had begun absorbing some knowledge of their work. Now he made a snap
- guess. “Two-by-twelve-sixteen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Other one yonder?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Two-by-eight-twelve.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Call that a twelve? You'll have to do better than that. See that steamer?
- We're going to unload her in another minute, and I want you to mark down
- every stick on your tally-sheet as the boys take it off. Tend your
- business, now. We'll put some hair on your chest before we get through
- with you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So George took his place on the wharf as the <i>Number Two</i> came
- alongside, and promptly found himself the centre of a dozen gangs of men
- all hustling past with the sticks, while the two steamer-hoists lowered
- them over in bundles, and the men on the steamer slid them off from half a
- dozen points at once. Each plank and timber, Du Bois had said, was to be
- checked on the tally-sheet and its dimensions recorded.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran, Crosman and Du Bois met for a moment near the office where they
- could overlook the yards. The Inspector was shaking his head at the still,
- blue sky.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'd like to see a few clouds up there, Mr. Halloran. We ain't had any
- rain since the devil knows when.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran, for reply, stirred up the sawdust with his foot. It was dry and
- loose.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't like it, myself.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are we going to pile it in all through here? You ain't figuring on taking
- any outside, are you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; we can't do that. Fill in the strip yonder”—indicating the
- narrow end of the peninsula—“before you take up the ground around
- the mills.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How about the insurance?” suggested Cros-man. “I haven't done anything
- about it yet. Shall I see to it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; we'll carry it ourselves.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman and the Inspector were silent for a time after this, and all three
- looked down at the activity on the wharf. Neither of the assistants knew
- what a relief it was to the Manager to see that one load of lumber and to
- know that there was a score of other loads already on the way. It was his
- first glimpse of the tangible cause of the fighting, and the sight of it
- gave him the feeling of actually getting his hands on something. There was
- still to be considered the guarding it from fire, and, at the right
- moment, the putting it on the market. He did not know what new move
- Bigelow might be considering, but he could not see how any living man
- could block him now. Every order had been delivered to a lake port, so
- that he had no need to call on the railroads. And an attempt to restrain
- him from using the lake carriers, in view of the fact that the Higginson
- steamers alone could do the work with an extra allowance of time, seemed
- out of the question. Bigelow would resort to rascality, of course,
- whenever he could see or make an opening; but it was a question whether he
- could find any more openings.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You wasn't here when we had the big fire, in '79?” The Inspector was
- falling into a reminiscent frame of mind.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hardly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That was before we had a steam fire-engine. There was only a hand-machine
- downtown—damn little syringe on wheels—wouldn't put out a box
- of matches if the wind was blowin'—and so the Old Gentleman kep'
- about a hundred buckets hung in the mills. Joe Brady was fire chief—he
- worked in the freight house. But the fire come on a Sunday and Joe 'd been
- loadin' up ever since six o'clock Saturday night, and when him and the
- boys come up with their squirt-gun they'd forgot the key to the fire-plug,
- and they hadn't brung hose enough to use the river. Buck Patterson—he
- was superintendent—was passin' out buckets, and he come out to see
- what was the matter, and you'd ought to a-heard him talk to Joe. Buck was
- pretty profane, sometimes, and he just busted out that night. I guess he'd
- never had much use for Joe, only he hadn't had a chance to tell him about
- it before. 'Why, you dam gutter-sponge of a patty de foy graw,' says he—I'm
- only tellin' you what he said; I was standin' right by and heard the whole
- thing—he called him a patty de foy graw!—'You wart,' he says,
- 'you liver-eyed, kettle-bellied soak, you ain't fit to polish
- toastin'-forks in hell!' He never talked just like nobody else, Buck
- didn't. All this while Joe was hollerin' to little Murphy to run for the
- key and Murphy was hollerin' back, 'You go to the devil, your father, and
- get it yourself,' and sayin' it over and over, he was so excited; when
- Buck just took Joe by the collar and give him a jolt with his knee, and
- told him to shut up and get that key, and Joe tun off meek as an infant in
- arms.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What was the loss that night?” asked Crosman.
- </p>
- <p>
- “About twenty thousand—eighty per cent, insured. The Old Gentleman
- didn't have a very comf'terble time himself. He'd been ridin' around on
- his buckboard tellin' the boys what to do. He started downtown after more
- buckets, and just as he got out to the bridge I looked up and see him all
- a-blazin' out behind. He didn't even know it yet. Must ha' been a spark
- lit on his coat-tails. I hollered at him, but he was whippin' up the mare,
- and I had to chase him across the bridge. He begun to feel funny then, and
- when he pulled up I grabbed his arm and jerked the reins out of his hand,
- and hauled him off the seat and rolled down the bank with him into the
- river. I guess there ain't much doubt I saved his life———
- Hello, they're stopping work down there!”
- </p>
- <p>
- This last exclamation was caused by the Manager starting abruptly for the
- wharf. Crosman and the Inspector followed.
- </p>
- <p>
- The work was not wholly stopped, but a little group of labourers was
- gathered about a stick of timber watching George, who was measuring it
- with his scale. Some of the other workmen were standing and sitting
- nearby, laughing and bantering, while a few made a small pretense of work.
- When Halloran came on the scene George looked up with a dogged expression.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's this?” Halloran asked the gang-boss.
- </p>
- <p>
- “We was going a little too fast for the kid.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Evidently George had interpreted his orders strictly, and when his eye
- failed him in the bewilderment of seeing a dozen sticks passing at a time,
- had stopped each one to scale it. Halloran turned to Du Bois.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Give the boy a lift, will you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0205.jpg" alt="0205 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0205.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- The old Inspector nodded, with a twinkle in his eye.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here, young man,” he said, “take 'em down for me. Go ahead, boys!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He hitched himself up on the cap of a snubbing-post, and when the
- donkey-engines clanked again and the timbers came dropping and sliding to
- the wharf, and the files of labourers shuffled past, he went on with his
- story. His eyes roved absently up and down the wharf, and a half-circle of
- tobacco juice rapidly formed around the post. Not a stick escaped his eye,
- within a hundred feet of rapidly moving timbers; George's pencil was kept
- flying over the tally-sheet.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, sir,” he went on, “we went down that bank—two-b'-four-fourteen,
- two-b'-eight-ten—like two cats—two-b'-ten-sixteen—a-fightin'.
- Two-b'-twelve-twelve. The Old Gentleman didn't—two-b'-twelve-eighteen—
- know yet just what was up—two-b'-six-twelve, two-b'-six-fourteen—and
- he got his hand twisted up in my hair—two-b'-ten-ten, two-b'-ten-
- fourteen, two-b'-ten-twelve—and when we struck the water—two-b'-
- twelve-ten, two-b'-eight-eighteen—”
- </p>
- <p>
- A few minutes later, when Halloran passed again that way, Du Bois was
- still in the story, though he had now no auditor but the preoccupied
- George.
- </p>
- <p>
- That same night another steamer came in, and within a few days it was
- necessary to put on a night shift to keep up with the influx of lumber.
- The yards filled rapidly with high piles until the tramways and mills were
- nearly hidden from sight. New lumber it was, not yet so dry but that some
- of the water from the rivers still moistened it; and the air was sweet
- with the scent of pine. It brought to mind the deep forests far back from
- the lake, the rustle of the wind through the new boughs far overhead, and
- the long, still aisles, carpeted in fragrant brown, where the deer run.
- There were bears out there, skulking away from the axman, grubbing up wild
- turnips and hunting ants and slugs in rotten stumps; there were otter and
- muskrats and perhaps a lingering colony of beaver. Soon the time would
- come when the deer and bear could reclaim their lands, for the axmen were
- nearly through. Another score of years, perhaps, and where had been great
- forests would be a waste of blackened stumps—all “cut out” for the
- market. Rivers would be lower and dams useless. Thriving lumber cities on
- the lake would be facing ruin—their reason for being gone with the
- last timber—or casting about to attract manufacturers or to
- cultivate beets—anything to stop the drain on their vitality as the
- restless lumbermen should turn west or south for new lands where they
- could found new cities and begin the problem anew.
- </p>
- <p>
- In ten days it was all in, the six million and odd feet of boards and
- timber. And as Halloran walked down to the bridge one night and leaned on
- the railing and looked over the broad piles he was nervous and depressed.
- A part of the strain was over and he was feeling the reaction. The key to
- the situation was in his hands now—it rested with him to carry the
- lumber safely over to the day for selling, and then to make it pay. He
- could not yet see Mr. Higginson. He had been to Doctor Brown's this
- evening and the Doctor was decisive. The moon came out as he stood there
- and shed its light on the river and the lumber. He straightened up to go;
- then waited until he caught a glimpse of the watchman on his round of the
- yards.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- BOOK III — THROUGH FIRE
- </h2>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER I—A Little Talk with Captain Craig
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">F</span>ull as the
- newspapers were of the great corn deal on the Board of Trade, there was no
- getting at the facts that lay behind it. The brokers seemed to look on Le
- Duc as their principal; Le Duc had nothing to say. Halloran read the
- papers eagerly every day, watching for a word that would justify his
- conjectures, but the secret was too well kept.
- </p>
- <p>
- One morning a day or two after the lumber had come in, he asked Craig to
- step into the office.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain,” he said, “I want to talk to you about this corn business. I'm
- inclined to think that if we could find out who is backing Apples it might
- be just what we want to know most.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You think it's Bigelow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, if it is Bigelow, and if his reasons for keeping dark are what I
- think, the sooner we know it the better for Higginson & Company. Do
- you think, from anything Mrs. Craig has said, that Bigelow knows who
- Apples and his wife are?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, no. Jennie doesn't talk much about those times.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't like to bother you with this, Captain, but business and family
- matters are so mixed that I don't know any other way to get at it. Would
- you be willing to find out if there were any letters—anything that
- Le Duc might have got hold of that would give him a grip on Bigelow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain looked grave. “I kind o' don't like to stir her up, now she's
- having such a good rest. But—well, I don't know why not. Yes, I'll
- ask her. I'm afraid,” he added, as he arose, “I'm afraid I'm getting kind
- o' chicken-hearted these days. You see, I haven't had her back very long.
- Yes, the first good chance that comes along I'll talk it over with her and
- let you know what she says.”
- </p>
- <p>
- During most of the day Halloran was shut up in the office, figuring and
- working out some new schedules. At noon he spent an hour or more uptown,
- and a half-hour climbing around under the bridge; and later Crosman was
- hailed, out in the yards.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Could you drop around this evening for awhile?” said Halloran.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, yes,” was the rather reluctant reply, followed by a blush and a
- grin. “Any particular time?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Right after supper, for half an hour or so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right; I'll be there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- In the evening, when Crosman entered the Manager's room, the first thing
- he observed was a purple sweater on the back of a chair by the bed. Below
- it was an old pair of trousers, a cap, and, on the floor, a pair of rubber
- boots. He glanced curiously at these things as he greeted his superior;
- and Halloran's eyes followed his.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's my fireman's rig,” he said. “Didn't know I was on the department,
- did you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. What's all this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's what I want to see you about, as much as anything. I haven't gone to
- sleep a night since the lumber began coming in without expecting to hear
- the bell before morning. If the stuff was mine maybe I wouldn't care so
- much.” Crosman's face sobered. “But you said we'd carry the insurance
- ourselves.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You didn't suppose I wanted to do it that way, did you? We can't pay the
- price, that's all. And we can't lose the lumber, either. It's up to us to
- see that nothing happens. I've worked out a little plan here and I want
- you to help me carry it through.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman drew up his chair to the table. His mind had been fully occupied
- of late, and it had not before come home to him what a heavy—what a
- very heavy—load his Manager was carrying. Now these six million feet
- of pine and hemlock loomed in his thoughts and brought a very serious
- expression to his face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Cheer up, old man; we haven't lost it yet, that I know of, and we're
- going to do our best not to lose it. But you see, in buying this lumber
- and getting it all in here, we've done only half of it; the other half is
- to take care of it and sell it at a profit. Now look at this. I've
- borrowed some spare hose from the department. That's coming over in the
- morning, and we'll have it coupled onto the plug by Mill No. 1 and kept
- ready under the tramway. Our own hose will be coupled to the west plug.
- The two steamers are to be at the wharf, with steam up, all the time,
- ready to throw a stream on anything near the wharves: they'll lie one at
- each end, you see. The engineers are to stand watches aboard and keep a
- couple of hands sleeping by to man the hose. Then, if we have two watchmen
- always on duty, and the rest of the boys sleeping in their shirts and
- stockings, we could do fairly quick work, with the town engine to help.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There are the buckets in the mills, and by the office.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; we'll use those, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And this”—he was examining the paper—“is the way you want the
- boys divided?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. If the fire should be at the north end, where the yards are widest,
- you will take charge of the hose at the mill plug and see that the buckets
- are started; I'll take the west plug, where I can have an eye on the
- wharves. Those are the men to work with you, these with me. You'd better
- see yours the first thing in the morning—here's the schedule of
- watches—and engage them. You see, they're all men that live near the
- fence. Tell them we don't want a man that can't get to his station two
- minutes after the <i>Number One</i> blows her whistle, no matter if it's
- 2:30 A. M.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “The whistle will be the signal, then?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. I've told MacGregor to blow until he hears the bark of every dog in
- town. I want to get this all fixed in the morning, and so fixed that there
- can't be any misunderstandings. Any time after to-morrow noon, if that
- whistle blows, it means get to the yards in two minutes or lose your job.
- You'd better tell them that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right; I'll see to it. But gee whiz!” Crosman leaned back and looked
- at Halloran. “Here we're talking about this just as if it was going to
- happen.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, maybe it is. Anyhow, that's how we've got to look at it. I'd talk
- to the boys that way, too.” He rose and sat on the corner of the table,
- looking down earnestly at the other. “They've got to understand that we
- mean business. And say, look here, Crosman; what are we sitting here
- talking about this for? Why aren't we doing it to-night?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman's expression dropped from serious to dismal. “Why—why—all
- right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sorry if I'm butting into any plans of yours, but good Lord, old man,
- have you stopped to think what this means? Here I'd got my mind settled on
- to-morrow when I ought to have known all the while that to-day was the
- time. We'll do it now. You look up the boys on that paper and I'll root
- mine out and have them bring the hose over. We'll get everything in shape
- before we go to bed.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The assistant was caught up and whirled along by Halloran's energy. “All
- right,” he repeated. “But I ought to call Mamie up. She's—she's—I
- was thinking of going around there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Use my telephone. Excuse me if I start right out, won't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Before Crosman could stammer a “Certainly,” he had snatched up his hat and
- disappeared.
- </p>
- <p>
- Disagreeable as rush orders might be to a man with his family about him of
- an evening, there was nothing to be said; and within an hour some were
- starting out for duty on watch, or for a night on one of the steamers,
- while others dragged the hose-reel out of the town and across the bridge
- to the yards and put it in order for instant use. When the preparations
- were completed, toward eleven o'clock, Halloran called the men together
- and gave them their final instructions.
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman and he were left alone for a moment when the last man had gone to
- his post.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—that's a good job done,” observed the assistant. “I guess
- there's nothing more, is there?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No——- Oh, yes; one thing. I've thought a good deal about the
- south end. The yard's narrow there for quite a way and there's no fireplug
- at that end.” They were walking through the gate and toward the bridge.
- “It's the least likely place to catch first, because there's water on
- three sides, but if it should there's only one thing we could do. Look
- here! Under the town end of the bridge—I'll show you when we get
- there—I've hung a tin pail with matches and fuses in it, where it
- won't be disturbed and it's likely to keep dry. And about fifty yards down
- the bank there's some dynamite in another pail under the water. I've put a
- sign on a post to scare the boys away. There, see that white thing? That's
- it! I couldn't keep the stuff home or in the yards, and there, I think, is
- about the safest place. You see, if either of us should be running out
- here we could just turn off the road a little way and pick up the two
- pails. It's on Higginson land and I don't believe any one can object.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They went down together to see that the pails had not been molested. “I've
- given orders,” said Halloran, “to several of the boys to come down here
- every time they pass and report if anything's wrong.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Crosman was aroused by the work of the evening. “Well,” he burst out, as
- they were climbing the fence and taking the road again, “I must say you've
- just about covered the ground. I don't know of anything more we could do.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know—I feel a little better, anyway. I'll walk along to the
- house with you, if you're going that way.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—I'll tell you—I—I'm not, exactly. I kind of said——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Going to stop around at the Higginsons', eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I thought I might, if———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right; good-night. Look out that they don't shoot you for a burglar.
- But, say; hold on a minute. Has the crisis come yet with—with Mr.
- Higginson?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; they expect it to-morrow. Doctor McArthur came up from Chicago this
- afternoon, and the other one, the Detroit doctor, gets in late to-night.
- Mamie's waiting up for him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The following afternoon, as Halloran was closing his desk, Captain Craig
- came in.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've had a little talk with Jennie this noon, Mr. Halloran. I had to
- explain to her about things, and how you felt a little delicate about it,
- and she told me the whole thing. You see, it's considerable of a story.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran closed the door and drew up a chair. “Sit down, Captain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, now, it all goes back to a few months after Lizzie was married. Le
- Duc wasn't doing very well and he made it pretty uncomfortable for Jennie,
- talking about supporting her and that sort of thing; and finally one day
- he asked her if she didn't have letters or anything that could make it
- worth while to see Bigelow. Jennie'd never have done anything in the
- world, no matter though the alimony <i>had</i> been allowed her by the
- courts; she always had a horror of going to law about it. But Le Duc was
- hard pushed, and I guess she was glad to do anything that would make
- things easier for all of them, so she let him have Bigelow's letters—most
- of them promising to send money. They were all, she says, plain evidence
- that he hadn't paid her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran was sitting far back in his chair, his hands clasped around one
- knee, his eyes fixed on the desk. And while the Captain talked, his
- thoughts were running swiftly backward and forward and all around this
- interesting subject. He was hearing what he had most wished to hear.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And so Le Duc went out to Evanston one night to see him, and they were
- all excited about it, Jennie says. But after that things took a change. Le
- Duc wouldn't say much about it—-he acted a little queer—but he
- sort of made her think nothing was coming of it. And then, a little later,
- he got a job, nobody seemed to know just what—and moved over to
- where they are now. And he let Jennie and the McGinnis boy understand that
- they could come with them if they would pay a rather high board. Oh, he's
- a——-” Craig thought it better to pause, and turned his
- thoughts away from the meanness of his son-in-law. He went on with better
- control. “Of course Jennie couldn't do that, so they went without her. And
- Jennie was so timid about it all she didn't even like to ask for her
- letters back.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Apples has them still?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; he's got them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And is that all she knows?” Halloran could not keep a little
- disappointment out of his voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, that's the whole thing. He's been keeping his mouth shut up tight
- about the whole business. It pretty nearly tells the story, don't you
- think?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why, yes, in a way. It's not quite enough to move on, I'm afraid. But
- I'll have to think it over; and maybe I can see a way through. We don't
- know yet that G. Hyde is behind that corner—but I'm much obliged,
- Captain.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're welcome.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain hurried home to have a few hours with his family, for now that
- Halloran's “fire department” was organized he was sleeping, by choice, on
- his steamer.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <p>
- It was two o'clock the next morning. Crosman was far, far away, coasting
- down the joyous hills of dreamland. A laughing girl was at his side. She
- could not play long with him, for dimly he understood that the doctors
- were coming, and she must be at her post to welcome them. It would never
- do for the doctors to come and find no greeting from Mamie. But dreamland
- was bright to-night—the Little Folk were out in force, dancing like
- thistle-down over the Queen Anne's lace, or coasting with him down the
- starry slopes, a half-dozen on his back, more at his ears whistling gaily
- that Mamie was true—Blue for true!—Blue for true!—and
- hundreds of the maddest fellows capering on ahead, bounding and blowing
- from blossom to blossom. One danced far before, clad in a purple sweater
- and hearing a whistle. Now and again he blew a blast, daintily at first,
- like the signal of mint to the bees, then louder and shriller and
- shriller. It screeched hoarsely in his ears; a cold wind nipped at his
- legs and feet; the Little Folk were swarming around him, all in purple
- now, shouting wildly, urging him on—on—hurry—hurry! The
- whistle was deeper and hoarser—where was he—where————-?
- </p>
- <p>
- He was on his feet in the centre of the floor. Through the open window
- came the deep whistle of the <i>Number One</i>.
- </p>
- <p>
- In ten seconds he had tumbled into his trousers. Five more, and his boots
- were on. Another ten, and he was banging down the stairs and out the door,
- leaving it open behind him—and struggling into his coat as he ran.
- He could not guess how long the whistle had been sounding; but there was
- as yet no light in the sky above the yards. He must be on time: it lay
- with him to set an example to the men. His side was aching already, but he
- ran it down. As he drew near to the bridge he came out in full view of the
- yards, but could see no light. Perhaps he was early—perhaps the fire
- was starting on the river side. He thought of the dynamite, and with a
- bound was over the fence and running down to the water. A moment more and
- he was making for the bridge, pail in hand. As he paused here he heard
- some one running across, above him; and farther off were shouts and the
- sounds of running. The <i>Number One</i> was still whistling.
- </p>
- <p>
- Over the bridge he went, a tin pail in each hand; around the corner of the
- fence and on to the open gate. He was dashing through when he was hailed
- by a familiar voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- There, sitting on a projecting plank of the nearest lumber-pile, was
- Halloran, a lantern in one hand, his watch in the other. Grouped around
- him were half a dozen panting men.
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Crosman. False alarm. But you've made bully time———
- Look out, there!”
- </p>
- <p>
- This last was addressed to Du Bois, who came whirling around the gate-post
- and crashed full-tilt into Crosman. The assistant staggered, but recovered
- his balance; and the two sat down with the others. The men came bounding
- in until fully thirty were there—more by five or six than had been
- engaged. Halloran threw the light of his lantern on them.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Time's up,” he said. “Where's Potin?” [pronounced Pot'n.]
- </p>
- <p>
- No one answered, but after a moment the missing Canadian appeared.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're late,” said Halloran. “What's the matter?”
- </p>
- <p>
- The man had to pause to breathe. “It took me a m-min-ute, Mister Halloran.
- I—I guess I didn't hear the first whistle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We need better ears than yours, then. We can't use you after this.
- Runyon”—turning to one of the promptest of the outsiders—“I'll
- take you on in Potin's place. We don't pay men to sleep. That's all now,
- boys. You can go home.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But now that they were aroused there was a tendency to wait and talk it
- over.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What you got in them pails, Mr. Crosman?” called Du Bois. “Did you forget
- and bring your lunch?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; it's dynamite.” In a conversational tone.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's what? Say, you're fooling!” He drew back as he spoke. The other men
- looked at one another.
- </p>
- <p>
- For reply Crosman produced a brown cylinder.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good Lord! And I run into that!”
- </p>
- <p>
- In another moment Halloran and Crosman were alone. Down the alleys,
- between the piles, around the mill, out the gate—for every hole a
- man could squeeze through was abruptly pressed into service—the men
- had disappeared. And when the noise of the scampering feet had died away,
- Halloran said, with a chuckle: “Here's Du Bois's hat. I'll take it along.”
- The next morning he found him on the wharf. “You didn't stop for your hat
- last night, Du Bois. I guess you were called away suddenly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The Inspector accepted the hat and pulled it on, drew out his
- tobacco-pouch, bit a half-moon from his plug, tucked it away in his cheek,
- and swept his eyes quizzically around the harbour. “That's all right, Mr.
- Halloran; that's all right,” he observed, discharging a preliminary brown
- streak. “I s'pose I've got to go up against old Salt Peter some day or
- other, but if I'm goin' to have anything to say about it myself I'd a heap
- rather go up whole. If I was to come an arm or a leg at a time he might
- think it was old G. Hyde Bigelow tryin' to fool him in sections, and the
- first thing I knew he'd be sayin', 'Bigelow, you darned old pile o' culls,
- there's a line o' little red divils down there a-sittin' up nights for
- you. Git along!'”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER II—Going to Headquarters
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">H</span>alloran had not
- yet exhausted his resources in getting at the facts behind the corn deal.
- There was one person who probably could, if he would, carry the story
- further, and that was Jimmie McGinnis. And so Halloran decided to run down
- to Chicago.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain, when he heard of it, came to see him. “Harry Crosman says
- you're going down to the city, Mr. Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; I shall take the night train.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “When I told Jennie about it she wondered if you'd be going anywhere near
- Lizzie's place.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can, easily enough.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Jennie, you see, has been sort of looking for some word from her this
- week, and there ain't none come yet, and would you mind taking along a
- little bundle for Lizzie, and maybe a note?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a bit. You'll have them here before supper time, won't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; surely.”
- </p>
- <p>
- And so it fell out that Halloran boarded the train that night with the
- bundle under his arm.
- </p>
- <p>
- His trip was to be as short as he could make it, for he did not like to be
- away at this time. Full instructions were left with his assistant; and his
- post as amateur fire marshal was assigned to the Captain during his
- absence.
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie, it seemed, had been with the Le Ducs until the change. Where to
- find him now was a question, or it would have been if his eye had not
- alighted on the name “Elmer Le Duc” in the evening paper, among the
- attractions advertised by a Clark Street vaudeville theatre. He reached
- Chicago in the morning, and in the afternoon dropped around to the
- theatre. From the display of the name in five-inch letters on the
- bill-boards of a downtown continuous performance it was to be inferred
- that Jimmie was getting on in the world. His position on the programme,
- too—toward three o'clock—and the little burst of applause that
- followed the appearance of his name on the announcement card at the side
- of the stage, aided the impression. And finally, when the familiar
- wizen-faced, thin-legged boy, as undersized as ever, appeared, shouted out
- the preliminary song of his specialty, and fell into a long and
- wonderfully intricate dance, there was no doubting he had popped into
- favour. When he had disappeared, after the third recall, and the next turn
- was announced, Halloran slipped out and strolled a few steps up the alley
- that led to the stage-door.
- </p>
- <p>
- A quarter of an hour later a large, coarse-featured young woman, wearing a
- rakish French costume, came out into the alley; and behind her, barely
- reaching to her shoulder, in the unfamiliar get-up of a light suit, a
- wide-brimmed pearl-gray hat, tan shoes, and a bamboo stick, appeared
- Jimmie. They started to walk off together, but at Halloran's hail the
- young man turned.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How are you,” he said with a nod, somewhat as if their last meeting had
- been but a few hours earlier. “Want to speak to me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- At Halloran's affirmative, he left the woman, who stared at Halloran as
- she waited.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Been to the show?” asked Jimmie. “Got 'em cold, ain't I? I always told Le
- Duc I could do it the minute I got a chance at a big house.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've been looking for you, Jimmie. Won't you have dinner with me to-night
- at the Auditorium?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dinner, eh? What time?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Half-past six.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose so. You see I was goin' with Jane—that's Jane Scott, you
- know; greatest character singer and dancer on the stage. We're goin' to be
- married next week, and I'm sorter supposed to hang around her most of the
- time. But I guess I can make it. Anythin' doin'?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Nothing very much. I'll look for you, then, at half-past six, in the main
- office.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The dinner hour had come before Halloran could stop wondering over the
- idea of Jimmie McGinnis marrying. When they were seated together at a
- quiet table he spoke of it.
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you're going to be married, Jimmie?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; sure. But say, they ain't callin' me that no more. I'm Elmer Le Duc
- now, you know.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Aren't you starting in rather young?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, not for a man in the profession. You see, Jane's husband———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Her husband!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. He's a skate, you see—lushes. He's a fool, too, 'cause Jane's
- kind-hearted, and she'd a-gone right on supportin' him if he'd a-treated
- her half decent. She can haul in her hundred and twenty-five every week in
- the year—regular gold-mine. And a man that ain't got head enough to
- hold on to a thing like that 'ad better drop off. We've been talkin' it
- over, Jane an' me, ever since I made my hit. You see, she's got a two-part
- skit that calls for a small man, smaller'n her, a part I can walk right
- into; an' I thought it over an' told her I'd marry her an' manage the
- business. She's told me since, she knew the minute she struck me that I
- was her man. It's a good thing for both of us, you see. We can clear up
- two hundred a week easy, and our expenses won't be near so much. I told
- her I'd put up the cash for her divorce. It's such a sure case that it
- ain't costin' a great lot. Of course, I don't need to marry her, but the
- savin' in doublin' up on hotel an' sleeper bills 'll more'n pay for the
- divorce the first year.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran looked at Jimmie, shook his head, and then smiled in spite of
- himself. And Jimmie had to grin a little, too.
- </p>
- <p>
- It had been a question how to open the next subject. Halloran knew that,
- wherever there was a choice of ways to an end, one open and direct, the
- other tortuous and subterranean, Jimmie's mind would instinctively seek
- the latter. He thought he had better slip easily from the one subject to
- the other; for if the boy were to suspect him of any strong desire to
- inform himself concerning Le Duc he would most likely draw back, from
- sheer perversity, into his shell.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You say you're known as Le Duc now? Didn't you travel with them for
- awhile?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; but it wouldn't go. Too much madam there. Let me tell you this, Mr.
- Halloran. Don't you ever go into partnership with a man and his wife. It's
- hell on wheels.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They didn't get on well, then?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; the only payin' thing in the combination was the name. Le Duc's one
- of the best names in the profession, an' he's been more'n square about
- lettin' me go on an' use it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I saw them a little while ago at their hotel. He seems to have struck a
- good thing now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, they say he's a big man on the Board.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How did he ever get into it? There must be somebody behind him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie fingered his fork and looked up with an expressionless face. “Is
- they?” he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran tried again. “I don't know, but I'm inclined to think there's
- more in it than the papers say.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Jimmie, for some reason, chose to give no information whatever on this
- question. And Halloran had the questionable pleasure of bidding him
- good-evening in the consciousness that he was no nearer what he wanted to
- know than he had been in Wauchung. The next step was a matter of careful
- thinking; he was not even sure that there could be a next step. Meantime,
- he had an errand at the Le Ducs', and as it was not yet eight o'clock he
- decided to run up there.
- </p>
- <p>
- The great event had taken place in the Le Duc household. And when Halloran
- was shown into the apartment, he found a happy father in his shirt-sleeves
- dancing about a small white bundle on the sofa, a beaming mother also in
- dishabille, and a simpering nurse-maid. Apples was cordial, merry,
- expansive; he was delighted to see his old friend Halloran—fairly
- dragged him in. Good stories and playful allusions were continually rising
- in his mind and finding expression. He was boisterously demonstrative, and
- given to squeezing his wife's hand or slipping his arm around her as his
- tongue rattled along.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran delivered his message and his bundle, and finally, when he had
- been made to say all that there is to be said about some other man's
- infant, the mother and nurse took it away and left the two men to smoke
- and chat.
- </p>
- <p>
- After a time there came a pause. And then an idea that had been floating
- in Halloran's mind since his disappointment with Jimmie took sudden form.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you like working with Bigelow?” he asked, without the slightest
- change of expression, knocking the ash off his cigar as he spoke. And
- Apples took the bait.
- </p>
- <p>
- “First rate. He's a driver, but he's got a great head on him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I know. I used to work for him myself, out in Evanston. I don't
- believe he has ever done much on the Board before this deal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I don't think he has.” A peculiar expression was coming into Le Due's
- face. “Who told you about it?” he asked.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, I've always known more or less of his movements. He was hit rather
- hard in Kentucky Coal a little while back, but I suppose this corner will
- more than square that, if it goes through.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Le Duc smiled. “Don't you worry about that. I guess that coal business is
- nothing he can't stand. A momentary change of opinion doesn't alter the
- fact that there's just as much coal there as there ever was.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I suppose there is—just as much.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Le Duc was looking not quite comfortable. “Of course,” he began, “there
- are times with every man whose interests are spread out widely——”
- But this wouldn't do. He was blundering deeper and deeper into some sort
- of a trap, and not wholly grasping the situation, he decided to keep
- still.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had learned enough. His trip to Chicago was not to be a failure,
- after all. He had learned so much, in fact, that when he was back in his
- room at the hotel and could sit down and think it all over, there seemed
- to be no reason for delay in turning his information to account. Over and
- over again that night he considered his case: he tested it from every
- point of view to assure himself of its soundness; and in the morning,
- instead of heading for Wauchung, he wired Crosman that he would return by
- way of the lumbering town of Corrigan, the seat of the Corrigan mills, in
- the upper peninsula. The Corrigans were among the largest owners in the
- “combine”; and if they were as tired of losing money as he believed, they
- would doubtless be glad to hear what he had to say.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was an eight-hour ride from Chicago to Corrigan, and evening was so
- near when he arrived that he went directly to his hotel for some dinner,
- and made arrangements by telephone to see the younger Mr. Corrigan at his
- home in the evening.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know that we have ever met, Mr. Corrigan,” Halloran said, when
- the two men were closeted. “I am with Higginson & Company, of
- Wauchung. Your company and ours have not agreed, so far, in our attitude
- toward G. Hyde Bigelow. Mr. Higginson refused his offers at the start
- because we had reason to distrust him. We know now that we were right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Corrigan looked at him with some surprise. “If you have any charges to
- make against Mr. Bigelow you should see him, not me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have no charges, Mr. Corrigan, but I rather think you have. I've come
- here to lay them before you and leave you free to push them or not, as you
- choose. As I understand it, when this combination was organized, Mr.
- Bigelow was generally thought to be a responsible man. We didn't believe
- it, so we stood out rather than have him direct our business. Since that
- time he has got into such difficulties with his Kentucky investments that
- in order to raise money he has taken to speculating heavily on the Board
- of Trade. He is operating the big corn deal through the man named Le Duc.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'll excuse me, sir, but I don't see———”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused, and Halloran went on: “You understand, Mr. Corrigan, that our
- position is what it was at the start—we are against this
- combination. And if I didn't believe that you are going to be against it,
- too, I shouldn't be here. I think you'll agree with me that if what I say
- is tme, Mr. Bigelow is not a man to trust.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If it is tme———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And there is a way to prove it. I suggest that at the meeting, which
- comes, I believe, next month, you lay these charges before Mr. Bigelow,
- without warning, and give him a chance to explain. You are at liberty to
- say that I gave you the information.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This was all he had come to say, and he was so sure of its effect that he
- was willing to leave it and give the seed time to grow. But Corrigan was
- aroused.
- </p>
- <p>
- “This—this amounts to saying that Bigelow is secretly plunging on
- the Board.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It certainly does.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And this Le Duc, who is he?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a cheap actor who married Bigelow's daughter.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “His daughter! His oldest child is not a dozen years old.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “By his present wife, yes. But he's been married before.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll think this over, Mr. Halloran; I'll think it over.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran rose. “I came up here from Chicago to tell you that Bigelow is
- unsound. The sooner everybody connected with the Michigan lumber business
- finds it out the better for the business. Good-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night, sir.”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER III—Mr. Babcock's Last Card
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s the feat of
- riding thirty horses around a circus hippodrome calls for the highest
- strength and skill, so the task of guiding the complicated affairs of
- Bigelow & Company through the difficulties that threatened them
- demanded sound character and experience. For a time the Bigelow ventures
- had shown a persistent upward tendency, and the head of the firm had then
- made an imposing figure, but a fair-weather man was hardly adequate now.
- Kentucky Coal had slumped alarmingly; New Freighters had perhaps been
- overrated; and booming suburban real estate was discovering unexpected
- inertia where abnormal growth had been gambled on. But the most disturbing
- element was the lumber fight. That Higginson & Company could not only
- hold out until the meeting, but could actually get the better of the
- Trust, had not been foreseen. Questions would be asked at this meeting:
- there might even be some tension. And so it was that Mr. Bigelow was not
- joking much nowadays. And so it was that Mr. Babcock took his grip from
- behind the door and went to Wauchung.
- </p>
- <p>
- The air blew keen from the West as Mr. Babcock walked swiftly out toward
- the Wauchung bridge. It was a crisp, invigorating breeze, with the
- strength of the lake in it, and a faint odour of pine. Men grow rugged and
- hardy in this region, whether they follow blaze-marks or mariner's
- compass. No malaria oozes from the dry white sand; the children rather
- draw from it the sap that makes the pine tree tall and sound. If you had
- strayed into the forest in the earlier time of reckless cutting; if you
- had stood under the tight green roof on a scented rug of needles, finer
- than ever came from India, and listened to the song of the shanty-boy as
- he struck his peavey into a bleeding trunk, could you have wondered at the
- lilt in his melody, at the vigour, even the harshness in his voice? Stand
- near a mill-race and watch the “boys” racing down, each balanced on a
- single careening log, and you will have a glimpse of the sort of men G.
- Hyde Bigelow & Company were fighting.
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Babcock passed the last straggling buildings of Wauchung's main street
- and found himself in full view of the bridge, the river and the
- lumber-yards. The sight did not please him, apparently, for he paused with
- knit brows to take it in. Beyond, showing here and there, lay the harbour,
- glistening in the cool light—and beyond the harbour the bald dunes
- and the lake.
- </p>
- <p>
- The sky was blue, frayed here and there into ends of white clouds—the
- glorious northern sky, matched only in the air of Naples or Touraine. But
- Mr. Babcock was not looking at the sky. His soul was tuned to lower things—to
- lumber, for instance, heaps of it, piles of it, rows of it, stretched for
- hundreds of yards along the river, and across the peninsula, and along the
- edge of the harbour. The mills were silent; the watchmen were not to be
- seen; the only sign of life was the smoke curling from the funnels of the
- <i>Number One</i>, where Robbie MacGregor was dozing on the engine-room
- bench and hourly growing fatter. Six million feet of lumber greeted the
- eye of the man from Chicago, as he looked—and looked. It was new
- lumber, bought by experts, every stick of it such as would command a good
- price when the owners should throw it on the market, as they certainly
- would sooner or later. He shook his head and hurried on.
- </p>
- <p>
- He found Halloran at the office and shook hands cordially. Crosman heard
- the name, looked blank, recollected himself, and slipped out.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you've got a great lot of lumber here, Mr. Halloran,” Babcock began
- softly, glancing out the window.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—a good deal.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “How much can you keep in the yards here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We have about twenty-five million feet in now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't say so! Your own cutting?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only part of it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You've been—er—buying in the market, eh?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, all we could get.” He could not resist adding, “It's been a good
- time to buy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, so it has, so it has. I suppose you're holding this lot for a better
- price?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran nodded. His eyes were searching the face of his caller. Babcock
- paused to gather his forces, then settled back in his chair.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I feel like telling you, Mr. Halloran, that you've done a mighty neat
- piece of work. To tell the truth, it's been a surprise to us to see how
- well you've carried this business. Your fame now”—he leaned forward
- and dropped his voice to a confidential pitch—“your fame now,
- however, rests even more on the way you've stuck to your employer's
- interests than on the cleverness of what you've done. There are clever men
- enough, but down in Chicago we don't see any too many honest ones.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I suppose you don't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “This fight has been expensive, but it's taught us one lesson, I think.
- When we organized the lumber producers we tried to get all the good firms
- into it. We succeeded with every one but Higginson & Company. By the
- facts of the case we were forced to antagonize you, and I'll tell you
- right here we expected to beat you. But we haven't beaten you. You've
- shown a vitality that was surprising. And since your owner, we understand,
- has been dangerously ill for some months, we are forced to believe that
- you, yourself, Mr. Halloran, are the real head of this business. Isn't
- that so? Well, you needn't answer. I understand your modesty. But there
- are the facts. Well, now, sir, here we are, after a hard fight, just where
- we were when we started. I don't know but what you may be better off.
- Anyhow, you're the one man that has kept us from doing what we want to do.
- What we've learned in this experience is, that we can't afford to go on
- fighting Mr. John Halloran. We need just such a man as you on our side.
- Mr. Bigelow and I have talked this all over, and I think we have insight
- enough to know that when a rising man, a really big man, comes along, it's
- a heap sight better to get on his side. You can't stop a man like that—he's
- bound to rise—and if you don't keep his good-will and confidence,
- you lose. Now, we want your good-will and confidence, Mr. Halloran. I've
- got some propositions to lay before—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One moment, Mr. Babcock. If you have come to propose that anybody but M.
- L. Higginson & Company conduct this business, you'll be wasting your
- time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Babcock looked thoughtful, then nimbly changed front. “We have no concern
- in this or any business except our own. But we are interested in men.
- There's no doubt about it, Mr. Halloran—I know how men feel all over
- Michigan—there's no doubt about it, you're the coming man in the
- lumber business, to-day. Now, good men, Mr. Halloran, command good
- positions. Take this place you're in—it's a salaried position, isn't
- it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, now”—Mr. Babcock's voice had dropped almost to a whisper, but
- his intensity, his determination to win, trembled in every note of it. He
- was smiling. “Well, now, what's the use of this, Mr. Halloran; what future
- have you here? Even if you succeed Mr. Higginson? You can never be more
- than he is, if you stay here. But once put a man of your caliber in a
- place that's big enough for him and he'll expand—he'll fill it—he'll
- reach out and up. In ten years, perhaps, you'd be at the head of the
- business. But you ought to be at the head <i>now</i>—then, in ten
- years, you'd be in Chicago or New York, with your finger on the pulse of
- the financial world. I'm here for a reason. We've started in to organize
- the lumber business and nothing can stop us. It may take time; we know it
- will take men. But we aren't bothering about the time; we're looking for
- the men. That's our way. And you're the man we need to make it go; you're
- the man that can do it—you have a genius for it. Now—one
- moment—I told you I had some propositions to make to you, and I'm
- ready to make them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was playing the last card in the hand of Bigelow & Company, and
- playing it beautifully. A few short weeks and the meeting would be upon
- them—the meeting when explanations of the delay in completing the
- organization would fall upon unsympathetic ears. He was thinking now, for
- one moment, with his eyes half closed.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know, Mr. Halloran, that Mr. Bigelow is the owner of the Pewaukoe
- Mills. It is a first-class plant in every way—and slightly larger
- than this, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “A little, perhaps.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, I could make you other propositions, but you know the lumber
- business, and I suppose you'd rather stay in it until you've got your hand
- worked in with something a little bigger. I offer you this: We'll put you
- at the head of our Pewaukoe business, with entire authority, subject only
- to consultation with the firm on matters of policy and development. We
- want you to go in with the idea that your hands are free—that you
- can stamp your own individuality on the business. Don't you see, Mr.
- Halloran, it's that individuality, that business character, that we want
- above all? We want the qualities that have given you your peculiar success
- here. As to payment, that will be arranged easiest of all. You know best
- what you ought to have. But I'll name a figure, merely by way of opening
- the discussion——-” He smiled again. “Suppose I say we'll pay
- you a thousand dollars a year more than you're getting here, whatever that
- may be. If that doesn't seem fair, just say so. We want to enter these new
- relations with the feeling of perfect satisfaction all around—we
- can't afford to do it any other way.
- </p>
- <p>
- “One moment————- Don't commit yourself hurriedly.
- This is a matter for consideration. First of all, let me put that offer
- down in writing over our signature—then we'll have something to work
- from. Will you call your stenographer?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We have no stenographer here now. But let me say———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I'll write it out—here, this letter-paper will do the
- business.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now, see here, we can't talk along this line. I haven't the slightest
- intention of leaving Higginson & Company.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know—I know——— Take plenty of time to think it
- over. I'll go ahead and put this down in black and white———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, Mr. Babcock. I won't consider it at all. I stay right here at this
- desk.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Babcock brought up his reserves. “You are inclined to think,” he said,
- settling back again, “that your place is here with Mr. Higginson?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Decidedly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I see. Perhaps we've been working a little at cross-purposes. I haven't
- been talking with the idea of taking away Mr. Higginson's main support at
- the time he needs it most. I'm afraid I haven't been looking at that side
- of it quite enough. You see, Mr. Halloran, we're business men, we of G. H.
- Bigelow & Company. When we see a big man in our line we want him; and
- when we try to get him, I suppose we don't always consider the other
- people who want him, too. We haven't time. But I'm glad you brought the
- point up. Suppose we go at it from a new point of view. Now, I recognize
- (and Mr. Bigelow would agree with me if he were here) that this very
- attitude of yours—this standing by your employer when he's a sick
- man—is the quality in you we like best. We've seen it before; we've
- talked about it. If you should go back on Mr. Higginson now—even
- though, of course, there's not the slightest legal hindrance to your
- looking out for yourself—how could we know you wouldn't go back on
- us some day? But you won't go back on him, you see, and that's how we know
- more than ever that you're the man we're after. Now there's not the
- slightest need of any immediate change. We could even date your salary
- from this moment, or back to the beginning of this month, without
- expecting you to walk right out here———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's no use—I'm not going to leave.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; I'm not suggesting such a thing. I was going to say that—that
- we're looking ahead. Let me see—you're about thirty, perhaps. Why,
- man, you haven't begun yet. But if you stay here, and if Mr. Higginson
- should die within these next few years without taking you into the firm,
- you'd have nothing whatever to show for your work. Now, one place is as
- good as another for such a man as you. All you need is to get a footing—but
- that takes capital. My suggestion would be that you stay right here and
- buy into the business—get it into your own hands. Mr. Higginson,
- knowing you as he does, would be only too glad to have it go to you. We
- can help you with that. Your credit is A-1 with us. We're so sure you're
- going to see some day the advantages of combination and cooperation in
- this business that we'll write you a check any day and no questions asked.
- It———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't you think,” said Halloran, speaking slowly, with an edge on his
- voice, “don't you think you've said about enough?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Babcock flushed. “What do you mean by that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I mean, if your time's worth anything to you you're losing money here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then you are not interested———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not a bit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The junior partner of Bigelow & Company, still flushing, rose. “I've
- made you a square offer———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And I've refused it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Babcock stood looking down at Halloran. His eyes were growing smaller; his
- fingers were restless. For a moment he seemed not to grasp the fact that
- he had failed. Halloran picked up a letter, then lowered it, and looked up
- inquiringly.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Now suppose we leave it this way for the present, Mr. Halloran.” He was
- rallying. “You'd better just think over what I've said. The main thing is
- to pave the way toward an agreement, and I think we've done that. I'm glad
- to have had this talk with you. Don't hurry about deciding. Weigh it
- carefully. Good-by—glad to have seen you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran gave him a nod and he was gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- It was to be a day rather more than usually eventful. Before he left the
- office, in the afternoon, Crosman drew him aside.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Would you———?” he began.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Will you be home to-night—about eight?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think so. Why, anything special?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “N—no. You'll be there sure?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Promptly at eight the doorbell rang and Halloran was called down to the
- parlour. Entering, he found Crosman, grinning feverishly; and over in the
- corner, with her back turned, looking at a picture, was Mamie. He looked
- from one to the other until Mamie turned around and disclosed a very red
- face. Still no one spoke. The two now gazed appealingly at each other, and
- finally it was Mamie who broke the silence with a preliminary giggle.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess—I guess you can congratulate us, Mr. Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Coming so suddenly, even this bold statement did not sink at once into
- Halloran's consciousness. But at last, after a painful pause, he
- recollected himself and shook hands cordially. And then the story had to
- be told in detail. It was all a secret, for Mrs. Higginson had not yet
- learned to understand Harry as she would when she came to know him as one
- of the family. During the worst of her father's illness Mamie would not
- consent, but now that the crisis was turned she had—“Well, she had
- supposed she might as well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We wanted you to know it,” she said. “And it's going to be a secret
- between just you and us. We thought maybe—you—maybe you'd be
- glad, too.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But for some reason it did not have that effect; for an hour later, when
- Halloran was striding up the beach to the north, heedless of the waves
- that ran up about his feet, of the west wind that slapped his face and
- tugged at his coat, he wore a far from glad expression. And not until he
- had fallen into step with the night patrol from the life-saving station,
- and had swapped yams of the old Inspector and the Beebe-McClellan boat and
- the capsize-drill records, and had learned precisely why the Wauchung
- Station was the most abused and discriminated against in the whole U. S.
- L. S. S., did he seem a little more composed.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER IV—Twelve, Midnight
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he deep-toned bell
- in the town hall was striking twelve. It was a still, overcast night, with
- a mild breeze blowing up from the head of Lake Michigan. Three men stood
- at the gate of the yards talking in low tones, somewhat oppressed,
- perhaps, by the silence. Before them, a little way, was the white circle
- thrown by the electric light over the bridge; behind were the great dim
- piles of lumber with the narrow alleys between, now black as the sky, and
- carpeted as they were with chips and shavings, as silent beneath the foot
- as velvet. The only noise came, in the intervals between words, from the
- two steamers that lay breathing softly alongside the wharf.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What you doin' on watch, Du Bois? Changed your job?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; Mr. Halloran asked me to go on to-night. He says it's time we had
- some good men down here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Aw, go on!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, Runyon, who's that on the bridge?”
- </p>
- <p>
- All three watched a moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dunno 'im. Throw your lantern on 'im when he goes by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But the fellow turned in at the gate.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Who's this?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm George Bigelow. Mr. Halloran said I could go on watch at twelve.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bigelow ain't a very safe name around here, sonny. How about it, Du
- Bois?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's all right, I guess. He's the new lumber-checker.” They all laughed.
- “You understand, don't you, boy, that if a man's caught sleeping or off
- his post he gets shot?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—why———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't let 'im scare you, sonny. He's the lazy beggar 'imself. Say, Du
- Bois, I thought I saw a tramp hanging around about an hour ago. If you
- want to look through the yards once more with me I'll stay for it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take the boy. It'll learn him the ropes. Run along, boy.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night, there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-night, Runyon. I won't wait.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They separated, one man hurrying off for home and a bed, Du Bois lingering
- at the gate for a look up and down the line of the fence; Runyon and
- George, their lanterns darkened, slipping stealthily away into the shadow.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I seen somethin' over there by the mill,” said Runyon, in a subdued
- voice, “like it was a tramp that had dumb the fence by the bridge and was
- sneakin' along the bank. Here, now, hold on a minute,”—he caught the
- boy's arm—“I was a-standin' right here. Now look down between them
- piles—past the mill. See that little strip o' the river where the
- bridge light's a-shinin'? It looked to me like somethin' black went acrost
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They went on, giving a quarter of an hour to winding through the alleys,
- throwing a light into every dark corner. “A feller can't be expected to
- see everything—not in yards as big as these here. We needn't go out
- around the P'int. I guess there ain't nothin'. Here's Du Bois a-waitin' by
- the <i>Number One</i>. I'll leave you with him. You got a whistle, ain't
- you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes; Mr. Halloran gave me one.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You know about it? If you blow, it means fire. So don't get gay with it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hallo, there,” said Du Bois, as they joined him on the wharf in the
- little patch of light that fell from the steamer's engine-room. “You're
- purty poor. Where's your tramp?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He wasn't to home. We 'lowed we'd call again. So long.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So long, there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The engine-room was snug and comfortable, a capital headquarters for
- patrol duty. So the old Inspector took immediate precedence of his
- associate. “Now, young man, we'll have to break you in first thing. You
- better go over and patrol the fence f'r'n hour. Then you come back here
- and report. Be kind o' cautiouslike about your whistle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I guess you don't—not such a dam sight. What's the matter? What
- you waitin' f'r?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—when we was going around the yards, he said he guessed we
- wouldn't go out as fur's the Point—and I thought mebbe I'd go now,
- jes so's to be sure.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “So you've took to thinkin', eh? I s'pose you was a-thinkin' you'd send me
- over to the fence.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I didn't mean to send you, but I thought mebbe———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Git along with you. You talk too much. You make me sick.” And the
- Inspector, with a chuckle, made slowly toward the gate, leaving the boy to
- his own resources.
- </p>
- <p>
- George walked to the end of the wharf and stood a moment, debating whether
- to keep on along the bank or to turn in among the lumber-piles. He decided
- on the latter course and crowded through, with the help of his lantern, by
- crawling over and under the projecting ends of planks between two huge
- piles. This brought him into an alley that led, with one turn, to the
- narrow space of open ground at the end of the peninsula. He closed his
- lantern and felt his way along. He had nearly reached the turn, he
- thought, when it was suddenly revealed to him by a light flickering on the
- lumber. He stopped short and held his breath. The light was growing
- rapidly. He rushed forward around the turn—and again he stopped. A
- blaze that had evidently started at the base of a pile of inch stuff was
- now curling upward, was already half way up to the top; and it crackled
- ominously as it wreathed around the thin, resinous boards. Standing a
- little way off at the edge of the bank, looking stupidly at the fire, was
- the worst specimen from the land of trampdom George had ever seen. His
- clothing hung about him in rags, his hair and beard were grizzled and
- matted, his face was red; and his whole body seemed to tremble as if from
- a nervous affection. He looked up frantically, called out something in a
- husky voice and held up a blackened clay pipe, then, on an impulse, he
- dropped the pipe, turned and dove out into the river. There was a splash,
- the firelight glistened for an instant on the spray, and he had
- disappeared.
- </p>
- <p>
- George remembered his whistle and blew it sharply half a dozen times His
- first thought was to turn back to the steamer, and he had taken a few
- steps when a shout told him that his signal was heard, that probably the
- fire could be seen now, for it was already licking at the topmost boards;
- and so he threw his lantern away and took a running dive off the bank.
- </p>
- <p>
- Du Bois, walking slowly, had nearly reached the gate when he heard
- George's whistle. “The boy's crazy,” he muttered. “Wonder they wouldn't
- give us unweaned infants f'r patrol.” He looked down the centre roadway,
- but could see no light. However, his duty was obvious, and he turned and
- ran back to the wharf, growling as he went. The men were aroused on both
- steamers. As he passed the <i>Number Two</i> he saw the hands dragging out
- a coil of hose with the nozzle ready attached. On the upper deck of the <i>Number
- One</i> Captain Craig, with a pair of trousers hastily drawn on and his
- nightgown partly tucked in at the waist, was leaning on the rail and
- peering out over the yards. The deckhouse door was open, throwing the
- light on him. In the fainter light, on the main deck, MacGregor was
- hanging out.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How is it, Cap'n?” he was calling.
- </p>
- <p>
- The Captain made a sign of impatience, straightened up and shaded his eyes
- with one hand to shut off the light from the steamer; then gave a shout,
- and pointing toward the end of the peninsula, he plunged into the
- wheel-house and pulled the whistle-cord. MacGregor disappeared in the
- engine-room.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the moment Du Bois was midway between the two steamers running along
- the wharf. He stopped now and retraced a few steps. “Hi, there!” he called
- to the men who were at work on the <i>Number Two</i>, “uncouple that hose
- and bring 'er up to the <i>Number One</i>.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What for?” asked some one.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What for? You—you——— Hi, Cap'n Craig! I'm
- a-bringin' up the Number Two's line—— Will you have yours
- uncoupled for us? Now, you louts, gimme a hold o' the line. All together,
- now! <i>Heave</i> f'r it! Over the rail with 'er! Lay hold now, lively!
- Did you think you was a-sprinklin' the front yard <i>an</i> the tulip-bed?
- Ryan, if you fall over them feet of yourn again I'll be darned if I don't
- soak you. All together, now!— right in the solar plexus, b' th'
- divvel. Now <i>heave!</i> HEAVE! What's the trouble, there. Damn that
- Ryan! Say, you've got more feet to the square inch than any man a-walkin'.
- Here she is, Cap'n. Take off that nozzle, one o' you, while I couple 'er.
- Hold on, Robbie, we'll holler when we want water. Jest heave that Ryan
- overboard, a couple o' you. All right, Cap'n. Will we take the nozzle?
- Here we go, now! Run 'er out! Quick, there———You're the
- craziest lot o' hare-lipped bungholes I ever see!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were stretching out the hose to its fullest extent, but they were
- still some distance from the fire that now was roaring and crackling
- before them. Already they could hear the wind, swelling from a night
- breeze; it was whipping the flames into madness.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Hi! Robbie! Let 'er go! Pass the word there Let 'er go!”
- </p>
- <p>
- The men shouted; MacGregor responded; the flat line of hose swelled and
- writhed as the water was forced through. “Hold hard, Cap'n!” The nozzle
- was almost wrenched from their hands; the stream rushed out and curved
- high over the lumber.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are we a-gettin' at it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't think so. I can't see. Here, work out into the roadway.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Lord, no, we ain't reachin' 'er by three rods. An' she's a-burnin' to
- beat the yellow devils. What's the matter with the boys? Damn it, they
- must think we're a-doin' it f'r fun! This ain't no Fourth o' July
- pyrotechnics.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They'll be here. It's not much more'n a minute since George signaled.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's some more of the boys, I think.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can't see much—this light's in my eyes. It's no use trying to
- reach it. Here, let's wet down these here piles. That's good. Now hold her
- there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Gettin' pretty hot here, Cap'n.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Can't help that. It'll be hotter before we get through. Have an eye out
- to see that we don't get cut off behind. Here come the buckets.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here you are, boys—this way! How many is they of you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I dunno—about a dozen, I guess. The boys is comin' right in.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Form a line here along the road. If you keep your clothes wet there's no
- danger, I guess. Stir along, now. Mr. Halloran come?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not yet. Mr. Crosman's couplin' up the yard hose an' he'll be along
- here'n a minute.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The fire was giving rise to the wind; the wind was lashing the fire. The
- crackling was loud now; the roar made it hard to talk. As they worked and
- watched a gust of wind came sweeping across the harbour, and catching up
- the top row of boards from an exposed pile, it tossed them, burning, high
- in the air. The sparks were flying high, coursing the length of the yards,
- some falling far beyond. Men were pouring into the yards. Somewhere across
- the river the town fire-engine was clanging out toward the bridge.
- </p>
- <p>
- A man, hatless, in a purple sweater, carrying a tin pail in each hand,
- came running through the gate and down the central roadway. Some one
- shouted “Here he comes!” and here and there other men, working with hose
- or bucket, heard the shout and caught it up for sheer excitement, heedless
- of the cause.
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's that?” said Du Bois. “It's all clear behind, ain't it? We ain't
- cut off?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no; we aren't cut off.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, Cap'n, I can't stand this; let's drop back a step or so. Lord knows
- we ain't doin' much good here. See her burn! I guess it's all day with
- Higginson & Company. Here come the fire boys—I see a helmet back
- there————No, they've quit. They're a-runnin' back,
- an' draggin' their hose with 'em. Who's this here a-comin' f'r us?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't know; I can't see.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's himself—it's Mr. Halloran. Hi! What's that?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0267.jpg" alt="0267 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0267.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Back with you, quick!” Halloran was shouting. “Never mind the hose. Let
- it go. You'll have to run for it. One's enough here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good Lord, he's goin' to try the dynamite. Hold on, there, Mr. Halloran!
- You'll never make it; the fire's too close.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Get back there!</i> What do you mean by talking back to me?”
- Halloran's eyes were blazing. “Get back or I'll throw you back Drop that
- hose, Cap'n. Don't say a word!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right, Cap'n. I guess we can get the hose back with us. Heave, now!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran jerked it away from them, took the Captain by the shoulders and
- spun him around. “I'll give you three seconds to get to the gate. Now <i>get!</i>
- And none of your talk!”
- </p>
- <p>
- They ran, without a word.
- </p>
- <p>
- The fire had eaten its way almost to the widening of the peninsula, almost
- to the last point where the dynamite could be expected to stop it. A
- narrow strip could be blasted out, but once the flames had swept on into
- the main yards nothing could check them. The steamers were far enough
- away, Halloran thought, to be safe; and he had warned all the men back.
- They stood now at the gate, waiting. The watchmen and deckhands were
- there, and the twenty- or thirty amateur and the dozen professional
- fire-fighters. Crosman came hurrying over from the mill-plug and addressed
- himself to the Wauchung chief.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Have your boys run the hose right down the minute you hear the second
- explosion.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “There'll be only two?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only two. I've got my hose ready to take down the other road. The rest of
- you boys be ready with your buckets, and when the Chief here gives the
- word you run for it, every one of you. Understand?” Then he hurried back
- to his station.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here he comes,” said a Wauchung fireman.
- </p>
- <p>
- Down the narrow roadway they could see a black figure running. Nearer he
- came, his shadow leaping grotesquely before. And just as he reached them
- and put out his hand to check his progress, the whole south end of the
- yards seemed to rise high in the air—once, and then again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come on, boys,” called Halloran, turning before he had fairly caught his
- breath. “Cap'n, go to the steamer and see that she's all right. This way,
- boys!” Eager hands laid hold of the hose and ran forward with it. Over by
- the mills they could hear Crosman urging his men on. And ahead of all was
- the bucket brigade.
- </p>
- <p>
- The explosion had cleared a path from bank to bank. Many of the blazing
- timbers had fallen into the yards, but the buckets and Crosman's hose were
- turned on these, while the firemen gave their attention to the wide heap
- of débris that seemed on the point of blazing up again. A third line of
- hose was soon brought up, and within a quarter of an hour the Chief had
- the satisfaction of saying to Halloran, “We've got her in hand now.” An
- hour more and the fire was over, excepting the smouldering piles, on which
- streams of water would be kept for the rest of the night. Halloran
- assigned a few men to stay on watch with the firemen and, leaving the
- responsibility in the hands of the Chief, he went over to the <i>Number
- One</i>. Craig was on the wharf.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Any harm done, Cap'n?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—not to speak of. About all the glass is broken, and some sparks
- came aboard, but we put them out easy enough.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say, Cap'n, I don't know just what I said to you to-night———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's all right, Mr. Halloran—don't you speak of it. You were
- tending to your business, that was all. You haven't seen anything of
- George, have you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “George? No. Isn't he here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, he ain't. He was out at the Point. He gave us the signal, but he
- didn't come back.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, here, we'll look into this. Du Bois, there, did you see George
- after he gave the alarm?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I ain't seen 'im since he went out to the P'int. What's the matter,
- ain't he around?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, he hasn't been seen. Look him up, will you? Ask the boys, and look
- around the yards a bit.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here he is now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Craig and the Manager turned and saw, sure enough, George, leading, with
- the assistance of a local policeman, a villainous-looking tramp. George
- himself looked almost as disreputable as the tramp, and the policeman had
- evidently not been treading paths of ease.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here's the man that done it, Mr. Halloran,” said George excitedly. “The
- copper said he didn't mind bringing him here so's you could see him before
- he gets run in. He won't say nothing, though.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran soon drew out George's story, but the tramp was silent, beyond
- claiming stoutly that he had been smoking and had fallen asleep, only to
- awake and find the flames starting up. There was nothing to do but to turn
- him over to the law for the present. And at last, as the hour crept on
- toward two o'clock in the morning, Halloran and Crosman, after sending a
- reassuring message to the Higginsons, left the yards together for home and
- bed.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER V—The Meeting
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">O</span>ne afternoon young
- Corrigan appeared at the office. “I wish you would repeat,” he said, when
- the civilities had been exchanged, “what you said to me a little while
- back.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “About Mr. Bigelow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. Please tell me just what you think, and why you think so. You
- understand that I couldn't go on with this without pretty good authority
- behind me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I have no documentary proof, if that's what you mean. But to my notion,
- that isn't necessary.” And Halloran simply repeated his former statements.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Tell me again about this Le Duc—what is his relationship to Mr.
- Bigelow?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I may as well give you the whole story, Mr. Corrigan. The daughter of our
- Captain Craig went to Chicago some twenty years ago as Bigelow's private
- secretary. They were married and had two children, and then they were
- divorced. The courts allowed Mrs. Bigelow a decent income by way of
- alimony, most of which was never paid, and in some letters Bigelow
- admitted that it was unpaid. A little while ago, Le Duc, a fellow I had
- known in college, who had drifted on the stage and was rather up against
- it, married the daughter, Elizabeth Bigelow. They were all poor—Mrs.
- Bigelow (or Mrs. Craig, as she is now known) was really in want—and
- finally Le Duc got the letters from her and went out one evening to
- Evanston to demand money from Bigelow. Instead of giving it to him,
- Bigelow bought him off by offering him a position as the nominal head of
- the corner he was contemplating on the Board. Le Duc accepted, kept the
- letters, and cast off Mrs. Craig, who is now living here in Wauchung with
- her father. Just before I saw you he told me himself that Bigelow was the
- man behind him in his operations. That's the story.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—well,” observed Corrigan, with a distressed expression.
- </p>
- <p>
- “And in telling it to you, I'm assuming that you don't want a Board of
- Trade plunger at the head of your combination.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, no, of course we don't. Now, Mr. Halloran, what is it exactly that
- you have to suggest?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Say to Mr. Bigelow at your meeting that you have been told that he is
- behind the corner and request an explanation.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If he can explain, well and good. You can refer the whole matter to me.
- But if he can't—there you are.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Corrigan pondered. “That seems fair. I'll talk it over with my father. I'm
- much obliged to you, anyhow.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not at all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- A reaction had followed the fire and the long strain leading up to it.
- They all felt it. Crosman, wearied by the comparative idleness that was
- forced upon him, was irritable and inclined to chafe against the steady
- disapproval of Mrs. Higginson. Halloran was plunged in gloom most of the
- time. And to add to the depression Captain Craig decided to give up his
- post.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You see, Mr. Halloran,” he said, in speaking of it, “you maybe wouldn't
- think to look at me that I'm a great-grandfather, but I've known it by my
- feelings since the fire. I didn't stand it very well—the running and
- the wet and all; and my eyes have been bothering me, too. Jennie and me,
- we've been talking it over, and she thinks I ought to just quit now, and
- look after the garden, and take it kind of easy. There's no room for us
- old fellows now, anyhow. A man had better make up his mind to it before he
- gets crowded out. I've saved a little something—enough to live on,
- and I've got my place, and I guess that's enough for anybody.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You're mistaken, Captain. There's not a better man on the Lakes, and I'm
- glad to tell you so. The <i>Number One</i> is yours as long as you'll keep
- her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There were tears in the Captain's eyes. “That's all right—I'm
- obliged to you. But I guess it's time to quit now while we're shut down
- and you have a good chance to look around for somebody else. There's only
- one thing that's been bothering me. Do you think you're going to have a
- place for George?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sure of it. He's going to make a good man before he gets through with
- it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm glad you think so. I must tell Jennie—it'll please her. And say—here's
- a little something—George says he's owed you three-fifty for a long
- while. He's managed to save it up now, and he wanted me to hand it to
- you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had to think. “Oh, that—that's nothing—I couldn't
- take it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you don't mind—I think you'd better. And I—I want to say,
- Mr. Halloran, before I quit you, that it's been a great thing for Mr.
- Higginson to have you here. I guess there ain't no doubt you've saved his
- business for him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- This brought the gloom back to the Manager's face. He shook his head.
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's all right now—I've watched the business some. It's your
- nerve and grit——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Captain,” Halloran broke in bitterly, “I———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess I know what you mean. You've been carrying a load that would have
- broke most men, and now you're sort of unstrung.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran shook his head again. “Damn the load.” He looked around the
- office. Crosman was out; the door was shut. “Captain, I've lost the girl I
- want to marry, for want of nerve.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Are you sure?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is she married already?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no; she's gone away.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Where?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Down East. She didn't leave word.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And she ain't married anybody else? Then she ain't lost. Why don't you go
- after her?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know. I've thought of that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thinking 'll never do it. You better go.” Halloran looked up and caught
- the Captain's eye. It was beaming with good-will, and it opened to him a
- glimpse of a new world. “I believe I will,” he said, holding his breath.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can get the eleven o'clock on the Père Marquette and connect with the
- Central Limited to-night at Detroit. I'll take care of the fire department
- while you're gone.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Will you?” He caught at the Captain's hand.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Sure. You'd better move right along———Lord, yes,
- there's only twenty-five minutes, and it'll take you most of that to get
- home and pack. I'll call up the livery and have a carriage go right up
- after you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good. Tell Crosman I've been called East.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll see to everything. Good-by. And say, don't hurry back. Wire your
- address, and if we need you we'll let you know. Good-by. Good luck.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Thanks. Good-by.” He was gone with a rush, leaving his desk open behind
- him.
- </p>
- <p>
- It so chanced that on this morning when Halloran went plunging off to seek
- his fortune, Mr. G. Hyde Bigelow, in an equally uncertain frame of mind,
- was fronting <i>his</i>. Matters were going awry down in Chicago. The
- Board of Trade deal, thanks to the elation and consequent intermeddling of
- the paid figurehead, was wobbling dangerously. And at ten o'clock, while
- Le Duc was hearing sharp, straight-out words in the mahogany office, the
- heads of nearly a score of Michigan lumber firms were gathering in the
- city office of the Corrigans, not far away. Hard-headed old fellows they
- were, most of them—men with slouch hats and unkempt beards, men who
- wore high boots beneath their bagging trousers, and swore as they talked
- and breathed. And there they waited for Bigelow, to ask him where their
- money had gone and how he proposed to get it back. At length he came.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-morning, gentlemen,” he observed, as he laid aside his coat and
- stick and his silk hat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good-morning,” came from Corrigan, and “How are you?” from one or two
- others. One graybeard murmured to a neighbour that he wished he'd a known
- in the first place that Bigelow wore a silk hat. “You can't trust a dude,”
- he muttered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, gentlemen,” the managing director began, drawing his report from
- his pocket, “I suppose a statement of what we have accomplished will——”
- </p>
- <p>
- But young Corrigan couldn't wait. “Excuse me, Mr. Bigelow—and
- gentlemen. I think we all know just about where we stand in this business.
- And———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “One moment, Mr. Corrigan. It is usual———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What I have to say is not usual, Mr. Bigelow. It's so important that it
- takes precedence, to my notion. It concerns our existence as a working
- body and our relations with you, sir. And this meeting can't go forward
- until it has been laid before you, and you've had the chance to convince
- us that what has been reported to me is untrue—that it is, as we
- should hope, a malicious lie. Before we think of the question of going
- forward or backward as a combination we must settle the question of our
- mutual confidence as individuals. A shadow has been cast upon this
- confidence; and you know, every man of you—” the graybeards, some
- startled, others condescending, looked at him; Bigelow looked at him, too—“You
- know that our whole structure must rest on complete confidence in the men
- we choose to direct our affairs. If this is removed, we can't do business
- a day.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I should suggest, Mr. Corrigan, that what you have to say had better come
- in the discussion that will follow the reading of the report. It is the
- object of this report to answer in advance all inquiries, to tell every
- fact about our work.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'd better wait, Harry,” observed a man in boots. “Let him read it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If this were a fact of our work it could wait, sir; but it ain't.”
- Corrigan was warming up. “It concerns you, personally, Mr. Bigelow. We
- have accepted your guidance so far because we believed you to be a certain
- kind of a man, and to stand for certain principles in business. We want to
- go on believing this, and we don't want to wait a minute, now that we're
- all together here. I've been told that you're the real operator of the big
- corner on the Board, that your money is in it, and that the man named Le
- Duc has been put up so that your name wouldn't be known. Is that so?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Every face in the room changed expression. The blood rushed into
- Bigelow's.
- </p>
- <p>
- “If you've been taking our time to make wild charges against my character———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You aren't answering,” shouted Corrigan. “Tell me that. That's what I
- ask.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You'd better cool down a bit, Harry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, Mr. Anderson, I won't cool down.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “See here,” said Bigelow, his voice rising with the others. “This has
- nothing whatever to do with this meeting.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Corrigan leaned over the table and looked him keenly in the eyes. “If you
- mean to withdraw here and now, Mr. Bigelow, to dissolve this agreement,
- then I'm with you; it has nothing to do with it. But if you mean to go on
- as our managing director, then you've got to answer that question.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The other men looked at one another. “I guess that's fair, Mr. Bigelow,”
- observed the man in boots. “So long as Harry's sprung this on us we
- wouldn't any of us feel quite easy about it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, sir, is it true?” asked Corrigan.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I claim that this is impertinent.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it true?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I decline to answer. My private investments are simply none of your
- business.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Corrigan sank back in his chair and drew a long breath. “There,” he said,
- “that's all I wanted to know. I think you'll agree with me, gentlemen,
- that we can't keep up these relations any longer. Suppose we hear the
- report now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- It was half-past two when the door was opened and a score of heated,
- hungry men came out for lunch. Bigelow had recovered and made a strong
- fight, but the sentiment was overwhelmingly against him. The managership
- had been offered to Corrigan; he had declined and stood out for
- dissolution on the ground that during the dozen or fifteen years that
- remained before the timber should be all cut out there was room for them
- all without any damaging competition. And so before they broke up the
- lumber agreement was abrogated. And in a few days, as soon as matters
- could be settled, the lumber world would know it.
- </p>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">E</span>astward sped
- Halloran, on to the Hudson, on up the crooked mountain railroad to the
- junction village, on up the wagon road behind a team of crawling white
- horses; reaching at last the house perched on the mountainside, lost in
- billows of autumn flame. Yes, Miss Davies was still there. The wife of the
- proprietor had seen her shortly before, walking up the trail behind the
- house.
- </p>
- <p>
- He found her standing in a tangle of late blackberries, hatless, her
- sleeves rolled to the elbow, reaching up to break off a crimson maple
- branch. She heard him crashing through brake and bramble, and turned. He
- did not see that she changed colour, she was so browned by the mountain
- sun—but she was startled. She did not move, but stood, holding the
- branch and looking at him without a word.
- </p>
- <p>
- “How do you do?” he said, shaking hands. “Hardly expected to see me, did
- you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. This is a surprise. When did you get here?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, you're just in time to walk back with me.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He was disappointed. “Don't go right down. I came because they told me you
- were here, and now it would be too bad not to see you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm going to play tennis, and there's only an hour before dark. Here, you
- may carry these branches. Aren't they beautiful? You walk ahead so I can
- look at them.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was no other way; the trail was narrow, and with the great bundle of
- branches in his arms he had all he could do to pick his way down the rocky
- path. Near the house they were met by a big young man in flannels,
- carrying tennis rackets. He looked curiously at Halloran, and passing him,
- walked with Miss Davies.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Halloran,” she said, “Mr. Green.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Green bowed and said, “How are you?” with an eastern drawl. And that
- was the last Halloran saw of her until supper time. He might have sat on
- the veranda and watched the game, but he did not; instead, he walked down
- to the road, and in the same plunging mood that had brought him East he
- went swinging up the valley. The bold splashes of crimson and yellow and
- golden brown on the long slopes, brought sharply out by the somber pines;
- the fringe of Queen Anne's lace along the road, and the masses of
- goldenrod and mint; the hum of millions of bees; the tumbling brook a rod
- away, with its pebbly ripples and dark pools; these he hardly saw. Even
- the Wittenberg, standing rugged against the sky, its crown of balsams now
- a trembling, luminous purple under the shafts of the setting sun, could
- not move him.
- </p>
- <p>
- After supper, by some managing, he caught her alone in the hall. “Come,”
- he said, “let's go outside.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She hesitated, but yielded. “I can't stay out but a minute. It's too
- cold.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get a wrap or something. If you bundle up we could sit awhile. It's
- stuffy in there.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, I can't. We're going to play euchre to-night.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, everybody. That means you, too, of course. Come in and let me
- introduce you. The people are jolly, most of them. There are always some
- queer ones, you know, at a place like this.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But, Margaret, I didn't come to play euchre. I don't want to know these
- people. Can't you see? I came on purpose to see you, and to talk to you.
- Get your things and take a walk with me. Never mind the euchre.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no, I couldn't do that. The people—it wouldn't look right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What do we care for them?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I mustn't. We had really better go in.” And in she went, with
- Halloran, crestfallen, following.
- </p>
- <p>
- After an insufferable evening he tried again to see her, and again it was
- accomplished only by maneuvering.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret,” he said, when he had drawn her into the corner of the emptying
- room, “tell me what it means. What's the matter?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked at him and slowly shook her head. “Nothing,” she replied;
- “nothing at all.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you get my letters?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She nodded.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I didn't know—you didn't answer. Why didn't you write, Margaret?”
- </p>
- <p>
- No answer.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Won't you tell me? I've come a long way to ask you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I—why, I just couldn't.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Didn't you have anything to say to me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I don't believe I did.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And have you nothing to say to me now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- A long, long silence. Then this from Miss Davies:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, please don't now. It's very late—and I'm tired.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But when am I to see you?” he broke out impatiently.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, there will be plenty of time. But not to-night—please. You
- aren't going away before morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I am here only for a day or so. I—I am down East on—on
- business.” He had quailed again. “I just stopped off here.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, you just happened to come?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I meant to come—I had to, I couldn't stay away. It's a long
- time since I've seen you, Margaret.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know. You called in Evanston, didn't you? Mrs. Bigelow wrote me that
- you had taken George. How is he doing?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well. But when can I talk with you—alone somewhere? I can't say
- anything when you seem so hurried.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why—to-morrow, perhaps.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “To-morrow morning?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, not the morning. I'm going to climb the Terrace.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Why not drop that and come with me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I can't. I promised Mr. Green. He's getting up a party. You—you
- might come along.” He shook his head. There was another pause. “Margaret,”
- he said then, “who is Mr. Green?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's a Boston man.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is he—is he——?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Some one was looking for Miss Davies. “She's in the card-room, I think,”
- said a voice.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Here I am. I'll be there directly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait, Margaret. Do you plan to get back for lunch?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—I don't think we're going to take any with us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Then I'll order a carriage for two o'clock, and we'll drive.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well——”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Of course”—and every word he uttered sounded like “Mr. Green—Mr.
- Green”—“of course, if you'd rather not———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no—thank you very much. I'd enjoy going. At two, did you say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- She was gone; and Halloran went outside and paced the veranda, alone with
- a cigar. His regular footfall sounded for a long time—during two
- cigars, in fact; and the thoughts he finally carried to bed with him were
- not the sort to put him into a condition for the diplomacy the morrow was
- to demand. In the morning, long before daylight he was up and dressed. He
- breakfasted late to avoid the climbing party, and from his window he
- watched them start up the road. He saw Green take Margaret's jacket and
- tie the sleeves through his belt. An annoying fellow he was with his easy
- manners, his faultless clothes, his calm reserve. He grated on Halloran;
- he reminded him of his own blunt western way; he forced him to recall
- again those rough antecedents of his. And that Halloran was keen enough to
- recognize the difference, indefinable as it seemed, aggravated matters.
- For an hour or so he sat in the library and tried to read, but failed. He
- thought a little fresh air might fix him up, and he went out for a
- six-mile tramp up the Panther Kill, through the ravine where the rock
- walls shine with moisture, and the trout lie deep in the pools below the
- falls, and the trees mat closely to shut out the day; but this was worse
- than the book. He came back over a spur of the Panther Mountain and here
- he had his first occupation of the day, scrambling up the ledges, fighting
- through the brambles, placing his feet carefully on the treacherous
- moss-covered rocks; here drawing himself by a finger grip up a sheer
- precipice, there elbowing up a chimney.
- </p>
- <p>
- He reached the top of the ridge and plunged down through the forest. He
- saw a clearing ahead, and, pushing on, found the whole valley spread out
- below, the stream splashing and glittering in the sun, the white road
- winding out here and there from the shelter of the trees, and all the
- tumbling mountain land blazing with colour. To the south towered the
- Wittenberg, to the north lay the peaceful slopes of North Dome and Mount
- Sheridan. He was knee-deep in fragrant mint, and surrounded by droning
- bees. A look, and he was crashing on, covered with thistledown from the
- tangle of brush. It was a pleasure to jump the great hemlock logs that the
- tanners had left to rot thirty years before. Once a birch of six inches
- diameter snapped off short under his hand and gave him a tumble and a roll
- down the slope. He got up, shook out his joints and went on with a laugh,
- chasing a porcupine that lumbered off and tried to hide its head under a
- stone. And when at last he ran out into the upper meadows behind the house
- he was no longer thinking of Green.
- </p>
- <p>
- But at noon the climbing party did not appear in the dining-room. At two
- o'clock, when the carriage appeared, there was no sign of them. At three
- the horse was still waiting and Halloran had gone back to his cigars. At
- half-past three he called the boy and ordered him shortly to take the
- horse back to the barn. At four the party, disheveled, flushed with
- exercise, laughing merrily together over the little jokes and incidents of
- the climb, came wearily up the walk. Halloran stood on the veranda and
- watched them as they climbed the steps. Margaret met him half-defiantly,
- half-apologetically.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm sorry,” she murmured, as she passed him, the last of the party; “Mr.
- Green did take some sandwiches in his pockets. We—we went on about
- half way up the Wittenberg. I must change my things now; but if you still
- want to go I can be ready in a few minutes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No—I've sent the horse back. You couldn't go now—you need a
- rest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well”—with a little toss of her head, “that's just as you like. We
- can go to-morrow, perhaps.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think I shall have to go away this afternoon.” Here he was, forcing her
- to speak out and urge him; and she had no notion of being forced to speak.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, must you go so soon?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I think so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's too bad. You've not much more than got here. You really should
- have gone with us; we had a glorious climb. I'm all torn to pieces.” She
- put out a shoe that was cut and tom in two or three places. “I never
- worked so in my life before.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran was thawing rapidly; he could not stand there looking at her and
- still keep all his resentment. And when she said, with an embarrassed
- little laugh, “Well, I simply must go in,” he delayed her:
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret, wait just a minute. Haven't you anything to say to me. It all
- rests with you. If you would tell me—to stay——”
- </p>
- <p>
- He could not get further. She looked at him, then away. “Why—why—if
- you——— Of course you know best how much time you have.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He turned away impatiently, and she hurried into the house, pausing only
- to add, “I shall be down in a few minutes.”
- </p>
- <p>
- But when the few minutes, lengthened to half an hour, had passed, and she
- had come down and looked with a curious expression into the parlours and
- out about the veranda, Halloran was half a mile away, driving rapidly
- toward the railway station in the junction village. And not until the
- evening did she know certainly that he had gone.
- </p>
- <p>
- One Père Marquette train reached Wauchung early in the morning, to connect
- with the car-ferry across the lake; and this was the train that brought
- Halloran back home. Walking up the street, bag in hand, he met the
- Captain, who was getting home from the yards for breakfast. Craig stopped
- when he saw him, and waited. They shook hands with only a greeting, but
- the Captain's shrewd old eyes were searching Halloran's face.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, Mr. Halloran, we weren't looking for you quite so soon.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I've taken the best part out of a week. I couldn't stay longer than that.
- I'll see you after breakfast and go over things. No news?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No; everything's lovely. But say, Mr. Halloran, how about it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran shook his head and would have hurried on.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Pshaw, now; it wasn't no, was it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Not exactly.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, say—then maybe it's all right.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's nothing, Captain—worse than nothing.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You don't mean—you ain't telling me you've come back without either
- no or yes?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran made no answer. He simply wanted to get away.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Mr. Halloran, I didn't think it of you; honest, I didn't. Say, now,” he
- reached down and caught hold of the bag, not heeding Halloran's protest,
- “let's step back this way. There hasn't a soul seen you—not a soul.”
- His eyes swept the street. “Just step along a little quicker. The early
- train 'll be pulling out before long, and you can pick up some breakfast
- at Reed City. I'd take you home with me—Jennie'd never peep—but
- I'm afraid some of the boys might be around when you come out, and anyhow
- you'd have to wait till the later train, and when you come to things like
- this time's worth saving. I guess prob'ly there's some other fellow
- hanging around down there these days and you've gone and given him a cool
- two days' start of you—you've just handed it to him. Now you get
- right back by the fastest train you can make. There's a good many things
- you know a heap more about than I do, but I guess maybe women ain't one of
- 'em.”
- </p>
- <p>
- They reached the station, Halloran walking moodily without a word. At the
- edge of the platform he turned. “Captain, do you really think I ought to
- do it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “My boy, you've got to do it. You ain't going to lie down here, are you?
- And that's what it means if you don't. There's your train waiting there.
- You get right aboard before anybody shows up to ask questions. Good-by;
- good luck to you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran got aboard, moody still; pulled up his collar, pulled down his
- hat, slid down low in the seat, and fixed his eyes on a worn spot in the
- back of the seat ahead. And when the train pulled into Reed City he was
- still gazing at the worn spot.
- </p>
- <p>
- The invigorating autumn air still held in Woodland Valley. Halloran,
- finding that the sleepy white horses and their driver were likely to be
- delayed in the village, threw his bag under a seat and set out on foot,
- following the road up through the notch by the bronze patches of
- cornstalks. He caught up a handful of young winter-green and munched it as
- he tramped. There was a lift in the air, and he threw open his coat and
- walked with a swing.
- </p>
- <p>
- At the house he asked for Miss Davies and was told that she was in her
- room, so he wrote a line in the library and gave it to a maid to take to
- her.
- </p>
- <p>
- She came in a moment.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Get your things, Margaret,” he said; “let's go outside.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But—when did you come?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Just now. I walked up. I've been out to Wauchung since I saw you the
- other day, but there was no use trying to stay there. You see—what I
- said about being down here on business was all a fib—I was afraid to
- own up.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Afraid,” she stood looking at him, with such a peculiar expression that
- he feared another delay.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never mind now; I'll tell you all about it when we get out. I want to
- walk up to the blackberry patch where I saw you the first day.” She went
- without a word for her things, still with that odd, sober expression; and
- in a few moments they were walking up the path toward the lower slopes of
- the mountain.
- </p>
- <p>
- “You—you said you had been to Wauchung?” she remarked by way of
- breaking the silence.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes. I stayed there about twenty minutes. You see—I can laugh at it
- now, but I couldn't then—I've been sort of a fool. When I wrote
- those letters and you didn't answer, and then when I went to your house
- and found that you'd come down here without a word to me, I was all broken
- up, and my nerve just left me. And then finally I did manage to get down
- here, and you didn't seem very glad to see me, and I don't doubt I was
- jealous of the Green fellow. I had forgotten then that after that night in
- Evanston—that when you had once let me know what you let me know
- then—you never would change. You see, I know you better than you
- think, Margaret. I've seen since that it was my fault—that I've been
- expecting you to say things it was my business to say for myself—and
- that there couldn't anything but little misunderstandings come between us
- after—after that. And—and———”
- </p>
- <p>
- He paused to look at her. She would have liked a broad hat, a sunbonnet,
- anything that would have shielded her face from him, but her little tarn
- was merciless, and she could only study the path. Another moment and he
- had to fall behind her.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, I guess that's all there is about it, Margaret. I was a fool, but
- I'm not a fool any longer. Here we are, where I saw you. Let's sit down on
- this log.” She slipped to the ground and deliberately faced away from him,
- looking off at the tumbling slopes of Cross Mountain. But he came around
- to the other side. “Now, Margaret, I've told you once, and you know all I
- could say without my telling you again. I love you: that's all. I can't go
- on any longer this way. I can't live without you—I've tried it—it's
- no use—so why can't we understand each other right now, and stop
- this playing at cross-purposes, and just be happy! You—you're all
- that I want in this world, Margaret—everything—everything.” He
- was leaning forward, playing nervously with a thorny twig and eagerly
- searching her face. “Tell me, Margaret—tell me if you will come
- right now into my life and make it worth something. I've been working day
- and night for other people—now I want to work for you. I want to see
- if I can't make a home for you—if I can't make you happy. When I've
- been working the hardest I've wondered, a good many times, what was the
- use of it all—what good it would do me if I should succeed, and make
- a lot of money and direct a lot of men. There's a passion for money, and
- there's a passion for power—I know a good many men that have one or
- the other or both of them—but one thing I've learned this year,
- Margaret, is that neither could ever fill my life and make it what I want
- to make it. Nothing, nobody but you can do that. Money and power mean
- worse than nothing to me unless they are means toward making you happy.
- That's what I want to do, Margaret, if you'll only give me the chance.
- Will you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a long, long time before she could do more than look off at the
- cloud-shadows floating up the opposite mountainside. They sat motionless;
- Halloran's hand had dropped from the twig; and the wonderful silence of
- the mountains wrapped them about. She wondered why he did not go on; he
- waited, breathless. She half turned; he caught her hand and gripped it
- with a nervous grasp. Her eyes sought the shadows again, wavered, were
- drawn, slowly, in spite of herself, to his face. And then he had her in
- his arms.
- </p>
- <p>
- Oh, the glory of the painted mountains, the joy of the world about them! A
- hawk circled overhead, flew whistling off and lost himself in the forest.
- The squirrels and chipmunks, peering out from tree and rock, recalled
- their own young days and whisked away. The bees alone kept them company,
- but bee-workers have no time for love-making. And all those two knew was
- that the world was young and the world was many-tinted; that the sky was
- blue-and-white above; that all, everything, was theirs forever, in this
- world and in the world to come.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Dear girl,” he murmured, with his lips at her ear, “there is no mistake
- this time? This is for always?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Before the words were spoken her arms were around his neck, her lips were
- close to his, her heart was beating against his own. “Always,” she was
- repeating with him—“always—always!”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VII—Three Announcements
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hen they reached
- the house, a little late for dinner, they found a telegram for Halloran on
- the mail-rack. Margaret started at the sight of it. “What is it, John?
- What does it mean?”
- </p>
- <p>
- He read it, then looked at it gloomily. “I suppose I ought to be glad,” he
- said.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Is it good news? I never can wait to see what's in a telegram.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He handed it to her. “I don't know whether you can make anything out of
- it. It is good news—it's what I've been hoping for for months. And
- now I'm sorry.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “<i>Price has risen</i>” she read. “<i>Understand that combine is broken.
- Crosman</i>. What does that mean? What price? And who is Crosman?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll tell you all about it after dinner. I'm going to run up now and
- throw my things together. I shall have to take the evening train.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh—John!”
- </p>
- <p>
- He could not reply; but with a quick look around the halls he took both
- her hands.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't go, John. Why, it's———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I know, dear. It hurts—but I must.” And then, afraid of that
- unmanageable little imp within him that had a way of taking the reins now
- and then, he only managed to add, “I'll pack now so we can talk after
- dinner,” and bolted upstairs.
- </p>
- <p>
- After a hasty dinner he found her waiting with her coat and hat on. “I'm
- going to the station with you,” she said. “Mother thinks it will be all
- right, with Baker to drive. Now come out and tell me about it.” After
- saying which, she herself began, as soon as they were pacing the veranda
- arm in arm, on an entirely different subject. “I've talked with mother,
- John. I—I suppose I ought to have waited—it was really your
- place, wasn't it? But I'm so happy I couldn't wait. And dear old mother
- was so surprised—I was excited, I guess, and I laughed a little, and———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I wanted to see her anyway, before I go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You can't now, John. She's so tired and stirred up she has gone right to
- bed. But—I don't think you'll find her very hard to talk with when
- you do see her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Does she think she can give you up?”
- </p>
- <p>
- They were standing at the end of the veranda, and Margaret was leaning
- back with both hands on the railing. She shook her head and looked
- mischievously at him. “I don't know but I shall have to be a little
- jealous of mother. I couldn't let many people talk about you like she
- does.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had never seen her in such spirits. It was slowly coming to him
- that this was neither of the Margarets he had known in the past. He had
- never seen her so well, for one thing; and now, besides, she was happy.
- And all the playful tenderness, the mischief, the devotion of her honest
- heart were his. Was it a wonder, then, that she captivated him as never
- before? That her fancy played about him, and led his wits such a mad,
- happy chase that it was she, at the last, who had to tell him that the
- carriage was waiting for them and that they really must go! And as they
- rolled along toward the village—as the first mile-post gleamed in
- the moonlight and slipped away behind them; as the rushing Panther Kill
- roared a moment in their ears and then, too, slipped behind; as they
- passed the quarry and came slowly in sight of the red and green lights of
- the railroad, Halloran's heart failed him. They were on the back seat of
- the mountain wagon, deep in the shadow; she was in his arms for the last
- time until—when? They were dropping into silence as the parting drew
- near.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Margaret,” he whispered, “I've been thinking—I can't go to-night—it's
- no use.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, John, don't go.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We'll turn around—we'll go to-morrow night—you and your
- mother can start then, too—we'll all go West together. I'll wire
- Crosman to begin selling. Yes, we'll drive on to the station, and I'll
- send the message.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm afraid, John, I couldn't get mother ready to go to-morrow. You don't
- quite understand—it would unsettle her dreadfully to get ready and
- go all in a rush like that. She has her mind made up for two weeks more—and
- I'm afraid I couldn't shorten it to less than one. Stay a week; it isn't
- much. You deserve a vacation. Mr. Crosman won't mind.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The little imp already had his hands on the reins; but at the sound of the
- whistle, far up the Shandaken Valley, Halloran roused. “I don't know what
- I'm thinking of, Margaret. They need me there. Good-by; don't say anything—I'm
- afraid I'll stay. Good-by.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Good—good-by, John. Write to me.” She saw him on the train; she
- walked to the end of the platform to wave when his car passed; and then,
- deep in the gloom of the night, she walked slowly back to the carriage.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran sent a message on ahead, and Crosman, all excitement, met him at
- the station.
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's all over, Mr. Halloran,” he burst out, as they shook hands. “Mr.
- Corrigan's been down here to see you about advancing prices to cover
- losses.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We don't need to advance prices. We haven't lost anything.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well—he only went back last night. He says he hopes you'll write
- him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll see to it. Does Mr. Higginson know?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Only what Mamie could tell him. He wants to see you. I asked the doctor
- about it, and he says you can go in if you have some good news for him; if
- you haven't, you'd better stay away. I told him I guessed there wasn't
- much doubt about that.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'll go over after supper.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “All right; I'll leave word so's they'll be ready. And say, Mr. Halloran,
- there's another thing. I was going to talk to Mrs. Higginson to-day about—about
- Mamie and me, but Mamie doesn't want me to. She says her mother wouldn't
- listen to a word from me. And we've been talking it over, and we wondered
- if you'd be willing to say a word for us.” He hurried to add: “I know it's
- sort of a funny thing to ask, but we're just up a tree. If I could see her
- father I could manage it, but it's pretty tough to go on like this and
- feel all the while that she's down on me.” Halloran pursed his lips. “It's
- Mrs. Higginson that you want me to talk to?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, no—not since they're going to let you see him. Now don't you
- do it, Mr. Halloran, if you'd rather not. I know how———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “If I see a good chance I'll try to put in a word. You won't mind if I go
- in now and wash up?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No. Say, it's mighty square of you———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Never mind that. I suppose I'll see you this evening?”
- </p>
- <p>
- After supper Halloran walked around to the Higginson home and was met at
- the door by Mamie, blushing and smiling.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Come in, Mr. Halloran,” she said. “Papa's been impatient to see you. You
- can go right up. Mamma asked me to excuse her to you. She isn't feeling
- well.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mr. Higginson, looking ten years older for his long sickness, was propped
- up in an arm chair. He smiled eagerly at the sight of his manager in the
- doorway, and held out his hand. “Come in, John,” he said. “I'm glad to see
- you. Sit down. You've been having a little vacation, haven't you?”
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a>
- </p>
- <div class="fig" style="width:50%;">
- <img src="images/0303.jpg" alt="0303 " width="100%" /><br />
- </div>
- <h5>
- <a href="images/0303.jpg"><img src="images/enlarge.jpg" alt="" /> </a>
- </h5>
- <p>
- “Yes—I've been East.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm glad of it. You deserve it. Now I want you to tell me all about
- things.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran hesitated, looking at the white, wrinkled face and wondering if
- there was yet strength behind it to go into the details of the business.
- “It's a good deal of a story.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But it's ended, isn't it? Mamie's right in what she tells me?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, it's about over.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And we've won?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess we have. There isn't any combine now.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And Bigelow——-?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bigelow's broken. It was in the paper this morning.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Broken,” Mr. Higginson repeated, half dazed. “I didn't think our fight
- could break him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We didn't do it all. He's been punctured all around. I guess his Board of
- Trade deal hit him the hardest.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What's this I've been hearing about this great lot of lumber in the yards—whose
- is it? I feel like Rip Van Winkle.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It's ours. When the trust cut prices we bought in all we could get.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “But—but where did you get the money?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “From the National City.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “And you're going to sell now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We've begun already. It will just about cover our losses. I understand
- Corrigan wants to raise prices a peg or so, but I've been thinking we'll
- hold the advantage better if we refuse.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You've had a fire, I understand?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—didn't amount to much—less than the insurance premium
- would have cost us.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did you ever find out how it started?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—and no. It was done by a tramp. He claims he was smoking and
- fell asleep. We put the screws on him, but couldn't get a word more than
- that. They're still holding him, but I've about decided to let him go.
- There may be something behind it, of course, but if he won't tell I don't
- know who will. I hardly think it would pay us to push it any further.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “No, I suppose not, so long as we're well out of it. Are you keeping a
- close watch?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, I've put on an extra man since the fire.” While he was answering
- these eager questions, Halloran had been looking for an opportunity to
- open the subject that was uppermost in his mind. Now, dropping his voice,
- he began:
- </p>
- <p>
- “There's one thing, Mr. Higginson—-”
- </p>
- <p>
- But his employer did not hear. “Who was this Le Duc I've been hearing
- about?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “He's Captain Craig's son-in-law. Bigelow put him up as his operator in
- corn.” Again his voice lost its assurance. “I have something to tell—”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Craig's son-in-law. Strange I never heard of him.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I didn't put it quite right—Le Duc married his granddaughter.
- Bigelow was Craig's son-in-law.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Bigelow!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes—that makes Le Duc Bigelow's son-in-law. You see, the Captain's
- daughter has been found in Chicago, and he's brought her back home. She
- was divorced from Bigelow a good while back.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Divorced from Bigelow!”
- </p>
- <p>
- It dawned on Halloran that he was stirring the old gentleman's brain into
- a muddle, and he stopped.
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess we won't go into it now, John—I seem to be a little tired.
- It's strange—strange. More seems to have happened in these months
- than in all the rest of my life put together. But didn't I interrupt you a
- moment ago? What were you going to say?”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran had no more than started, in that same altered voice, than a
- dress rustled behind him and Mr. Higginson broke in with: “Come in, my
- dear. Here is John Halloran.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Mrs. Higginson, becomingly pale, a pink-and-white shawl drawn about her
- shoulders, came languidly in and took Halloran's hand. “Don't stand,” she
- said; “I heard your voice and thought I would come in for a moment. I am
- hardly able to get downstairs yet, but I try to walk about a little on
- this floor. Doctor Brown fairly orders me to keep very quiet, but I feel
- sure that a little exercise is the best thing. How are we ever to get
- about if we take no exercise? Don't you feel that draught, dear? John,
- would you mind shutting the door? I have to be a little careful about such
- things. I'm glad you've brought Mr. H. some good news. Doctor Brown said
- it was the one thing that might help him. 'Tell Mr. Halloran to come if he
- brings good news,' he said. 'If he doesn't, he'd better stay away.' Well,
- we've had a pretty serious time of it here, haven't we? I told Mr. H. he
- simply must get well—for what was to become of Mamie and me if he
- didn't. We haven't seen much of you lately, John. Of course, things have
- been rather broken up with my sickness, and Mr. H.'s., but I am sure Mamie
- would have been glad to see you any time.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “John has been away,” said Mr. Higginson.
- </p>
- <p>
- There was a pause, and Halloran, seeing his opportunity, girded up his
- courage and plunged forward. “It's been a pretty important trip to me,” he
- began. This was clumsy, but it was go ahead or nothing with him now, and
- he went ahead. “Since I went away—I went down to see Margaret
- Davies, of Evanston; she has been staying down there, in the mountains—and
- she has promised to be my wife.”
- </p>
- <p>
- The words were out. Mr. Higginson sat up straight in his chair and stared
- at him. Mrs. Higginson leaned back and stared. Halloran could only turn
- red. Finally, Mrs. Higginson, the first to recover, repeated the name,
- “Margaret Davies! I've never heard any Evanston people speak of her. Has
- her family lived there long?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, all her life”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Um—it's not a wealthy family, I suppose?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I guess so. They have a fine old place on the Ridge.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Again Mrs. Higginson's tongue failed her, and she rose to go. “I hope you
- won't mind if I tell Mamie, Mr. Halloran. She will be interested.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, no; not at all. It's not a secret.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “We are all very glad to hear it. It's rather a sudden affair, isn't it?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Oh, dear, no. It's years old.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Years—indeed? I hope you'll do some very careful thinking. It is
- asking a good deal of a woman to bring her here to Wauchung—a city
- woman especially, with culture and refined tastes. I hope you aren't
- making a mistake. It would be such a pity for her life to turn out
- unhappily.” She went out; and Halloran, after fidgeting a moment, began to
- think that the best thing he could do would be to go, too. But Mr.
- Higginson checked him. “Sit down, John; sit down. So you're going to be
- married? Well, I'm glad to hear it. Let me shake hands with you.” Halloran
- was nervous and he rose again.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Wait a minute; I haven't said what I wanted to see you about yet. There's
- a matter that's been in my mind a good deal while I've been lying here,
- and I guess this is a good time to bring it up. I jotted down some
- memoranda this morning—there on the table, those folded papers. I
- wish you'd take them with you and look them over. I want your opinion on
- them before we do anything about it.”
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran took the papers, opened the first one, and ran his eye over it.
- At the first words he started, flushed, muttered something, and looked up,
- speechless with gratitude. “Why—why———”
- </p>
- <p>
- “That's all right,” Mr. Higginson interrupted. “Never mind giving your
- decision now. Go home and think it over. If you see anything about it that
- you think could be improved, talk it over with me the next time you come
- around and I guess we won't make much difficulty over it. Higginson &
- Halloran doesn't look quite so well as Higginson & Co. A shorter name
- would look better. But we never did go in much for looks.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I don't need to think over this, Mr. Higginson.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “Take it along; take it along. I guess I've talked enough for this
- afternoon. I'm a little tired.”
- </p>
- <p>
- There was nothing to do now but to go. As he passed down the stairs he saw
- Crosman and Mamie standing anxiously in the parlour doorway.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Did they say anything about our coming up?” said Crosman.
- </p>
- <p>
- Halloran stopped short. “By Jove!” he said; and then: “Say, I'm sorry, but
- I clean forgot you. It comes to the same thing, anyhow; I never could have
- said a word. I guess it's up to you.”
- </p>
- <p>
- He stood aside. Mamie looked at Crosman.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Well, say, Mamie, where is she?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “In her room, I guess.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “You go up ahead, Mamie, and find out if I can see her.”
- </p>
- <p>
- So with a dejected expression, Mamie piloting him, Crosman started up the
- stairs just as Halloran left the house.
- </p>
- <p>
- <br /><br />
- </p>
- <hr />
- <p>
- <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
- </p>
- <div style="height: 4em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
- <h2>
- CHAPTER VIII—Leveling Down
- </h2>
- <p class="pfirst">
- <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">M</span>argaret and
- Halloran were married in the late spring. For their honeymoon they went
- back to the mountains at the time when the apple buds were bursting into
- billows of pink and white in hillside orchards. The song-sparrows and
- robins sang for them as they drove up from the village; the brook,
- boisterous with a burden drained from higher slopes where the snow still
- lingered under northern ledges, brawled almost at the carriage wheels;
- millions of violets dotted the roadside, and white strawberry blossoms and
- the first daisies, and forget-me-nots that had escaped from some old-time
- garden. The smell of spring was in the air, the intoxicating sense of
- youth and health and happiness. And as they rolled comfortably along
- behind the jogging white horses they could only look at each other and
- draw in deep breaths of the fragrant, buoyant air, and be glad.
- </p>
- <p>
- Their first climb was up to the blackberry patch, under the maples. As
- they sat there on a well-remembered log, and looked out on the green
- wonder of the opposite slope, where the cloud-shadows were mounting as on
- that day of the autumn before, Margaret slipped her hand into Halloran's.
- “Listen,” she said.
- </p>
- <p>
- Far back in the hollow of the mountain a winter wren was caroling,
- welcoming them back to the highlands with all the melody in his little
- throat. His neighbours took it up, and piped their shrillest; and all
- along the slope chirped the dainty babel of welcome.
- </p>
- <p>
- “John,” she murmured.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Yes, Margaret.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “They can't send you any telegrams now?”
- </p>
- <p>
- “It wouldn't do them any good if they did. I've ordered the station agent
- to hold all messages until I call for them, and I'm not going to call.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She smiled; and again they were silent, listening to the merry strains
- behind them and to the far-off sounds from the valley, and watching the
- men at work in the fields below.
- </p>
- <p>
- We have followed them thus far, but now, in telling an odd incident of
- this little journey, we take leave. One evening, at supper, some active
- bodies at the house busied themselves in getting up an expedition to the
- village. There was to be a “show” in the village hall. These things were
- said to be great fun, and Margaret and Halloran were in the first wagon
- that went down. A band of broken-down actors, the latest coon songs, an
- elaborate silver table set to be raffled off—a number being given
- with each and every ticket sold to the performance—these were the
- attractions. It was hinted that the same silver set would probably figure
- again in other years; for the raffle included all the towns along the
- railroad, and the winning ticket seemed always to be held in some other
- town. But the natives of the mountains were always glad to be swindled,
- and silverware was not to be resisted. Small farmers, who build shingled
- bay windows and buy cabinet organs before the rear of the house is boarded
- up, fall an easy prey to these allurements. So the hall was crowded, and
- the party found some difficulty in getting seats.
- </p>
- <p>
- At length the cracked piano began to jingle.. The janitor lighted the
- lamps that served for footlights, and a voice, somewhere behind the
- curtain, was heard singing.
- </p>
- <p>
- The giggling, chatting audience was hushed. The kerosene lamps smoked and
- flickered unheeded. A village aristocrat, daughter of the general
- storekeeper, with her gum-chewing escort, sat next to Halloran, rapt with
- expectancy. The voice swelled out louder and louder, as it approached the
- refrain. Margaret, finding the audience more odorous and less picturesque
- than she had looked for, turned to suggest an early departure, and was
- surprised to see her husband leaning forward, his hands on the back of the
- chair in front, his eyes fixed on the stage. There were signs that the
- curtain was to be drawn; and as the voice swung into the refrain, “For
- Golden-haired Mary, dee-doodle-dee-fairy, dee-iddle-dee airy,
- ta-raddle-my-own,” the singer was disclosed, a long-legged black-face
- comedian, in a gorgeous, if shabby, cake-walk costume. Halloran muttered,
- “Well, I'm blest!”
- </p>
- <p>
- “What is it, John?” she whispered.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Don't you know him? It's Apples!”
- </p>
- <p>
- Sure enough, Le Duc, after a vain chase for the gold that glitters above
- the corn-pit on the Board of Trade, had returned to the path that leads to
- Shakespeare. The Bard was not quite within hail, to be sure, for Apples
- had lost his place in the line and must begin farther back than ever, but
- the road was still there. As they watched and listened, a woman, also in
- black-face, joined the comedian; and they recognized his wife.
- </p>
- <p>
- The next morning Halloran walked to the village after breakfast for a talk
- with Le Duc, but the “company” had left by an early train. “I don't know,”
- he said to Margaret when they talked it over later in the day; “there's
- not much use being sorry for them. They'd have landed on this level sooner
- or later anyhow—nothing could stop them. And he can't do anything
- like the harm with his silver-set swindle that he could have if Bigelow
- had succeeded in putting his deal through.”
- </p>
- <p>
- “I'm a little sorry for Lizzie, though. I used to think she might amount
- to something. You see, John, I can't quite forget that if it hadn't been
- for her and George we might not—maybe we wouldn't have come to know
- each other so well.” They were walking in the orchard. As she spoke she
- picked a cluster of apple blossoms and turned to pin them on his coat.
- </p>
- <p>
- “Perhaps not,” he said, looking down at her and smiling, “but I don't
- know. Maybe we'd have landed on this level, too, no matter how we started.
- I like to think so.”
- </p>
- <p>
- She looked up with one of the quick, shy glances he was learning to
- expect; and as quickly looking down again, and lowering her head over the
- blossoms, she murmured, “So do I.”
- </p>
- <h3>
- THE END
- </h3>
- <div style="height: 6em;">
- <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
- </div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
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