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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/7414-0.txt b/7414-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..06a252d --- /dev/null +++ b/7414-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9670 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poor White, by Sherwood Anderson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Poor White + +Author: Sherwood Anderson + + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7414] +This file was first posted on April 26, 2003 +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + + POOR WHITE + + + A NOVEL BY + + SHERWOOD ANDERSON + + AUTHOR OF + + WINESBURG, OHIO + + + + + + TO + + TENNESSEE MITCHELL ANDERSON + + + +[Note: The evident misprint of Book Six for Book Five in the original is +preserved here.] + + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Hugh McVey was born in a little hole of a town stuck on a mud bank on +the western shore of the Mississippi River in the State of Missouri. +It was a miserable place in which to be born. With the exception of a +narrow strip of black mud along the river, the land for ten miles back +from the town--called in derision by river men “Mudcat Landing”--was +almost entirely worthless and unproductive. The soil, yellow, shallow +and stony, was tilled, in Hugh's time, by a race of long gaunt men who +seemed as exhausted and no-account as the land on which they lived. They +were chronically discouraged, and the merchants and artisans of the +town were in the same state. The merchants, who ran their stores--poor +tumble-down ramshackle affairs--on the credit system, could not get pay +for the goods they handed out over their counters and the artisans, the +shoemakers, carpenters and harnessmakers, could not get pay for the work +they did. Only the town's two saloons prospered. The saloon keepers sold +their wares for cash and, as the men of the town and the farmers who +drove into town felt that without drink life was unbearable, cash always +could be found for the purpose of getting drunk. + +Hugh McVey's father, John McVey, had been a farm hand in his youth +but before Hugh was born had moved into town to find employment in a +tannery. The tannery ran for a year or two and then failed, but John +McVey stayed in town. He also became a drunkard. It was the easy obvious +thing for him to do. During the time of his employment in the tannery he +had been married and his son had been born. Then his wife died and the +idle workman took his child and went to live in a tiny fishing shack +by the river. How the boy lived through the next few years no one ever +knew. John McVey loitered in the streets and on the river bank and +only awakened out of his habitual stupor when, driven by hunger or the +craving for drink, he went for a day's work in some farmer's field at +harvest time or joined a number of other idlers for an adventurous trip +down river on a lumber raft. The baby was left shut up in the shack by +the river or carried about wrapped in a soiled blanket. Soon after he +was old enough to walk he was compelled to find work in order that he +might eat. The boy of ten went listlessly about town at the heels of his +father. The two found work, which the boy did while the man lay sleeping +in the sun. They cleaned cisterns, swept out stores and saloons and at +night went with a wheelbarrow and a box to remove and dump in the river +the contents of out-houses. At fourteen Hugh was as tall as his father +and almost without education. He could read a little and could write his +own name, had picked up these accomplishments from other boys who came +to fish with him in the river, but he had never been to school. For days +sometimes he did nothing but lie half asleep in the shade of a bush on +the river bank. The fish he caught on his more industrious days he sold +for a few cents to some housewife, and thus got money to buy food for +his big growing indolent body. Like an animal that has come to its +maturity he turned away from his father, not because of resentment for +his hard youth, but because he thought it time to begin to go his own +way. + +In his fourteenth year and when the boy was on the point of sinking into +the sort of animal-like stupor in which his father had lived, something +happened to him. A railroad pushed its way down along the river to his +town and he got a job as man of all work for the station master. He +swept out the station, put trunks on trains, mowed the grass in the +station yard and helped in a hundred odd ways the man who held the +combined jobs of ticket seller, baggage master and telegraph operator at +the little out-of-the-way place. + +Hugh began a little to awaken. He lived with his employer, Henry +Shepard, and his wife, Sarah Shepard, and for the first time in his life +sat down regularly at table. His life, lying on the river bank through +long summer afternoons or sitting perfectly still for endless hours in +a boat, had bred in him a dreamy detached outlook on life. He found it +hard to be definite and to do definite things, but for all his stupidity +the boy had a great store of patience, a heritage perhaps from his +mother. In his new place the station master's wife, Sarah Shepard, a +sharp-tongued, good-natured woman, who hated the town and the people +among whom fate had thrown her, scolded at him all day long. She treated +him like a child of six, told him how to sit at table, how to hold his +fork when he ate, how to address people who came to the house or to +the station. The mother in her was aroused by Hugh's helplessness and, +having no children of her own, she began to take the tall awkward boy +to her heart. She was a small woman and when she stood in the house +scolding the great stupid boy who stared down at her with his small +perplexed eyes, the two made a picture that afforded endless amusement +to her husband, a short fat bald-headed man who went about clad in blue +overalls and a blue cotton shirt. Coming to the back door of his house, +that was within a stone's throw of the station, Henry Shepard stood with +his hand on the door-jamb and watched the woman and the boy. Above the +scolding voice of the woman his own voice arose. “Look out, Hugh,” he +called. “Be on the jump, lad! Perk yourself up. She'll be biting you if +you don't go mighty careful in there.” + +Hugh got little money for his work at the railroad station but for the +first time in his life he began to fare well. Henry Shepard bought +the boy clothes, and his wife, Sarah, who was a master of the art of +cooking, loaded the table with good things to eat. Hugh ate until both +the man and woman declared he would burst if he did not stop. Then when +they were not looking he went into the station yard and crawling under +a bush went to sleep. The station master came to look for him. He cut a +switch from the bush and began to beat the boy's bare feet. Hugh awoke +and was overcome with confusion. He got to his feet and stood trembling, +half afraid he was to be driven away from his new home. The man and the +confused blushing boy confronted each other for a moment and then the +man adopted the method of his wife and began to scold. He was annoyed at +what he thought the boy's indolence and found a hundred little tasks +for him to do. He devoted himself to finding tasks for Hugh, and when he +could think of no new ones, invented them. “We will have to keep the big +lazy fellow on the jump. That's the secret of things,” he said to his +wife. + +The boy learned to keep his naturally indolent body moving and his +clouded sleepy mind fixed on definite things. For hours he plodded +straight ahead, doing over and over some appointed task. He forgot the +purpose of the job he had been given to do and did it because it was +a job and would keep him awake. One morning he was told to sweep the +station platform and as his employer had gone away without giving him +additional tasks and as he was afraid that if he sat down he would fall +into the odd detached kind of stupor in which he had spent so large +a part of his life, he continued to sweep for two or three hours. The +station platform was built of rough boards and Hugh's arms were very +powerful. The broom he was using began to go to pieces. Bits of it flew +about and after an hour's work the platform looked more uncleanly than +when he began. Sarah Shepard came to the door of her house and stood +watching. She was about to call to him and to scold him again for his +stupidity when a new impulse came to her. She saw the serious determined +look on the boy's long gaunt face and a flash of understanding came to +her. Tears came into her eyes and her arms ached to take the great boy +and hold him tightly against her breast. With all her mother's soul she +wanted to protect Hugh from a world she was sure would treat him always +as a beast of burden and would take no account of what she thought of +as the handicap of his birth. Her morning's work was done and without +saying anything to Hugh, who continued to go up and down the platform +laboriously sweeping, she went out at the front door of the house and +to one of the town stores. There she bought a half dozen books, a +geography, an arithmetic, a speller and two or three readers. She +had made up her mind to become Hugh McVey's school teacher and with +characteristic energy did not put the matter off, but went about it +at once. When she got back to her house and saw the boy still going +doggedly up and down the platform, she did not scold but spoke to him +with a new gentleness in her manner. “Well, my boy, you may put the +broom away now and come to the house,” she suggested. “I've made up my +mind to take you for my own boy and I don't want to be ashamed of you. +If you're going to live with me I can't have you growing up to be a lazy +good-for-nothing like your father and the other men in this hole of a +place. You'll have to learn things and I suppose I'll have to be your +teacher. + +“Come on over to the house at once,” she added sharply, making a quick +motion with her hand to the boy who with the broom in his hands stood +stupidly staring. “When a job is to be done there's no use putting it +off. It's going to be hard work to make an educated man of you, but it +has to be done. We might as well begin on your lessons at once.” + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived with Henry Shepard and his wife until he became a grown +man. After Sarah Shepard became his school teacher things began to go +better for him. The scolding of the New England woman, that had but +accentuated his awkwardness and stupidity, came to an end and life in +his adopted home became so quiet and peaceful that the boy thought of +himself as one who had come into a kind of paradise. For a time the two +older people talked of sending him to the town school, but the woman +objected. She had begun to feel so close to Hugh that he seemed a part +of her own flesh and blood and the thought of him, so huge and ungainly, +sitting in a school room with the children of the town, annoyed and +irritated her. In imagination she saw him being laughed at by other boys +and could not bear the thought. She did not like the people of the town +and did not want Hugh to associate with them. + +Sarah Shepard had come from a people and a country quite different in +its aspect from that in which she now lived. Her own people, frugal New +Englanders, had come West in the year after the Civil War to take up +cut-over timber land in the southern end of the state of Michigan. +The daughter was a grown girl when her father and mother took up the +westward journey, and after they arrived at the new home, had worked +with her father in the fields. The land was covered with huge stumps +and was difficult to farm but the New Englanders were accustomed to +difficulties and were not discouraged. The land was deep and rich and +the people who had settled upon it were poor but hopeful. They felt +that every day of hard work done in clearing the land was like laying +up treasure against the future. In New England they had fought against +a hard climate and had managed to find a living on stony unproductive +soil. The milder climate and the rich deep soil of Michigan was, they +felt, full of promise. Sarah's father like most of his neighbors had +gone into debt for his land and for tools with which to clear and work +it and every year spent most of his earnings in paying interest on a +mortgage held by a banker in a nearby town, but that did not discourage +him. He whistled as he went about his work and spoke often of a future +of ease and plenty. “In a few years and when the land is cleared we'll +make money hand over fist,” he declared. + +When Sarah grew into young womanhood and went about among the young +people in the new country, she heard much talk of mortgages and of +the difficulty of making ends meet, but every one spoke of the hard +conditions as temporary. In every mind the future was bright with +promise. Throughout the whole Mid-American country, in Ohio, Northern +Indiana and Illinois, Wisconsin and Iowa a hopeful spirit prevailed. +In every breast hope fought a successful war with poverty and +discouragement. Optimism got into the blood of the children and later +led to the same kind of hopeful courageous development of the whole +western country. The sons and daughters of these hardy people no doubt +had their minds too steadily fixed on the problem of the paying off of +mortgages and getting on in the world, but there was courage in them. If +they, with the frugal and sometimes niggardly New Englanders from whom +they were sprung, have given modern American life a too material +flavor, they have at least created a land in which a less determinedly +materialistic people may in their turn live in comfort. + +In the midst of the little hopeless community of beaten men and yellow +defeated women on the bank of the Mississippi River, the woman who had +become Hugh McVey's second mother and in whose veins flowed the blood +of the pioneers, felt herself undefeated and unbeatable. She and her +husband would, she felt, stay in the Missouri town for a while and then +move on to a larger town and a better position in life. They would +move on and up until the little fat man was a railroad president or a +millionaire. It was the way things were done. She had no doubt of the +future. “Do everything well,” she said to her husband, who was perfectly +satisfied with his position in life and had no exalted notions as to his +future. “Remember to make your reports out neatly and clearly. Show them +you can do perfectly the task given you to do, and you will be given +a chance at a larger task. Some day when you least expect it something +will happen. You will be called up into a position of power. We won't be +compelled to stay in this hole of a place very long.” + +The ambitious energetic little woman, who had taken the son of the +indolent farm hand to her heart, constantly talked to him of her own +people. Every afternoon when her housework was done she took the boy +into the front room of the house and spent hours laboring with him over +his lessons. She worked upon the problem of rooting the stupidity and +dullness out of his mind as her father had worked at the problem of +rooting the stumps out of the Michigan land. After the lesson for the +day had been gone over and over until Hugh was in a stupor of mental +weariness, she put the books aside and talked to him. With glowing +fervor she made for him a picture of her own youth and the people and +places where she had lived. In the picture she represented the New +Englanders of the Michigan farming community as a strong god-like race, +always honest, always frugal, and always pushing ahead. His own people +she utterly condemned. She pitied him for the blood in his veins. The +boy had then and all his life certain physical difficulties she could +never understand. The blood did not flow freely through his long body. +His feet and hands were always cold and there was for him an almost +sensual satisfaction to be had from just lying perfectly still in the +station yard and letting the hot sun beat down on him. + +Sarah Shepard looked upon what she called Hugh's laziness as a thing of +the spirit. “You have got to get over it,” she declared. “Look at your +own people--poor white trash--how lazy and shiftless they are. You can't +be like them. It's a sin to be so dreamy and worthless.” + +Swept along by the energetic spirit of the woman, Hugh fought to +overcome his inclination to give himself up to vaporous dreams. He +became convinced that his own people were really of inferior stock, that +they were to be kept away from and not to be taken into account. During +the first year after he came to live with the Shepards, he sometimes +gave way to a desire to return to his old lazy life with his father in +the shack by the river. People got off steamboats at the town and took +the train to other towns lying back from the river. He earned a little +money by carrying trunks filled with clothes or traveling men's samples +up an incline from the steamboat landing to the railroad station. Even +at fourteen the strength in his long gaunt body was so great that he +could out-lift any man in town, and he put one of the trunks on his +shoulder and walked slowly and stolidly away with it as a farm horse +might have walked along a country road with a boy of six perched on his +back. + +The money earned in this way Hugh for a time gave to his father, and +when the man had become stupid with drink he grew quarrelsome and +demanded that the boy return to live with him. Hugh had not the spirit +to refuse and sometimes did not want to refuse. When neither the station +master nor his wife was about he slipped away and went with his father +to sit for a half day with his back against the wall of the fishing +shack, his soul at peace. In the sunlight he sat and stretched forth his +long legs. His small sleepy eyes stared out over the river. A delicious +feeling crept over him and for the moment he thought of himself as +completely happy and made up his mind that he did not want to return +again to the railroad station and to the woman who was so determined to +arouse him and make of him a man of her own people. + +Hugh looked at his father asleep and snoring in the long grass on the +river bank. An odd feeling of disloyalty crept over him and he became +uncomfortable. The man's mouth was open and he snored lustily. From his +greasy and threadbare clothing arose the smell of fish. Flies gathered +in swarms and alighted on his face. Disgust took possession of Hugh. +A flickering but ever recurring light came into his eyes. With all the +strength of his awakening soul he struggled against the desire to give +way to the inclination to stretch himself out beside the man and sleep. +The words of the New England woman, who was, he knew, striving to lift +him out of slothfulness and ugliness into some brighter and better way +of life, echoed dimly in his mind. When he arose and went back along the +street to the station master's house and when the woman there looked at +him reproachfully and muttered words about the poor white trash of the +town, he was ashamed and looked at the floor. + +Hugh began to hate his own father and his own people. He connected +the man who had bred him with the dreaded inclination toward sloth in +himself. When the farmhand came to the station and demanded the money +he had earned by carrying trunks, he turned away and went across a +dusty road to the Shepard's house. After a year or two he paid no more +attention to the dissolute farmhand who came occasionally to the station +to mutter and swear at him; and, when he had earned a little money, gave +it to the woman to keep for him. “Well,” he said, speaking slowly and +with the hesitating drawl characteristic of his people, “if you give me +time I'll learn. I want to be what you want me to be. If you stick to me +I'll try to make a man of myself.” + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived in the Missouri town under the tutelage of Sarah +Shepard until he was nineteen years old. Then the station master gave up +railroading and went back to Michigan. Sarah Shepard's father had died +after having cleared one hundred and twenty acres of the cut-over timber +land and it had been left to her. The dream that had for years lurked +in the back of the little woman's mind and in which she saw bald-headed, +good-natured Henry Shepard become a power in the railroad world had +begun to fade. In newspapers and magazines she read constantly of other +men who, starting from a humble position in the railroad service, soon +became rich and powerful, but nothing of the kind seemed likely to +happen to her husband. Under her watchful eye he did his work well and +carefully but nothing came of it. Officials of the railroad sometimes +passed through the town riding in private cars hitched to the end of one +of the through trains, but the trains did not stop and the officials +did not alight and, calling Henry out of the station, reward his +faithfulness by piling new responsibilities upon him, as railroad +officials did in such cases in the stories she read. When her father +died and she saw a chance to again turn her face eastward and to live +again among her own people, she told her husband to resign his position +with the air of one accepting an undeserved defeat. The station master +managed to get Hugh appointed in his place, and the two people went +away one gray morning in October, leaving the tall ungainly young man in +charge of affairs. He had books to keep, freight waybills to make out, +messages to receive, dozens of definite things to do. Early in the +morning before the train that was to take her away, came to the station, +Sarah Shepard called the young man to her and repeated the instructions +she had so often given her husband. “Do everything neatly and +carefully,” she said. “Show yourself worthy of the trust that has been +given you.” + +The New England woman wanted to assure the boy, as she had so often +assured her husband, that if he would but work hard and faithfully +promotion would inevitably come; but in the face of the fact that Henry +Shepard had for years done without criticism the work Hugh was to do and +had received neither praise nor blame from those above him, she found +it impossible to say the words that arose to her lips. The woman and +the son of the people among whom she had lived for five years and had +so often condemned, stood beside each other in embarrassed silence. +Stripped of her assurance as to the purpose of life and unable to repeat +her accustomed formula, Sarah Shepard had nothing to say. Hugh's tall +figure, leaning against the post that supported the roof of the front +porch of the little house where she had taught him his lessons day after +day, seemed to her suddenly old and she thought his long solemn face +suggested a wisdom older and more mature than her own. An odd revulsion +of feeling swept over her. For the moment she began to doubt the +advisability of trying to be smart and to get on in life. If Hugh had +been somewhat smaller of frame so that her mind could have taken hold of +the fact of his youth and immaturity, she would no doubt have taken +him into her arms and said words regarding her doubts. Instead she +also became silent and the minutes slipped away as the two people stood +before each other and stared at the floor of the porch. When the train +on which she was to leave blew a warning whistle, and Henry Shepard +called to her from the station platform, she put a hand on the lapel of +Hugh's coat and drawing his face down, for the first time kissed him on +the cheek. Tears came into her eyes and into the eyes of the young man. +When he stepped across the porch to get her bag Hugh stumbled awkwardly +against a chair. “Well, you do the best you can here,” Sarah Shepard +said quickly and then out of long habit and half unconsciously did +repeat her formula. “Do little things well and big opportunities are +bound to come,” she declared as she walked briskly along beside Hugh +across the narrow road and to the station and the train that was to bear +her away. + +After the departure of Sarah and Henry Shepard Hugh continued to +struggle with his inclination to give way to dreams. It seemed to him a +struggle it was necessary to win in order that he might show his respect +and appreciation of the woman who had spent so many long hours laboring +with him. Although, under her tutelage, he had received a better +education than any other young man of the river town, he had lost none +of his physical desire to sit in the sun and do nothing. When he worked, +every task had to be consciously carried on from minute to minute. +After the woman left, there were days when he sat in the chair in the +telegraph office and fought a desperate battle with himself. A queer +determined light shone in his small gray eyes. He arose from the chair +and walked up and down the station platform. Each time as he lifted one +of his long feet and set it slowly down a special little effort had to +be made. To move about at all was a painful performance, something he +did not want to do. All physical acts were to him dull but necessary +parts of his training for a vague and glorious future that was to come +to him some day in a brighter and more beautiful land that lay in the +direction thought of rather indefinitely as the East. “If I do not move +and keep moving I'll become like father, like all of the people about +here,” Hugh said to himself. He thought of the man who had bred him +and whom he occasionally saw drifting aimlessly along Main Street or +sleeping away a drunken stupor on the river bank. He was disgusted with +him and had come to share the opinion the station master's wife had +always held concerning the people of the Missouri village. “They're a +lot of miserable lazy louts,” she had declared a thousand times, and +Hugh, agreed with her, but sometimes wondered if in the end he might not +also become a lazy lout. That possibility he knew was in him and for +the sake of the woman as well as for his own sake he was determined it +should not be so. + +The truth is that the people of Mudcat Landing were totally unlike any +of the people Sarah Shepard had ever known and unlike the people Hugh +was to know during his mature life. He who had come from a people not +smart was to live among smart energetic men and women and be called +a big man by them without in the least understanding what they were +talking about. + +Practically all of the people of Hugh's home town were of Southern +origin. Living originally in a land where all physical labor was +performed by slaves, they had come to have a deep aversion to physical +labor. In the South their fathers, having no money to buy slaves of +their own and being unwilling to compete with slave labor, had tried to +live without labor. For the most part they lived in the mountains +and the hill country of Kentucky and Tennessee, on land too poor and +unproductive to be thought worth cultivating by their rich slave-owning +neighbors of the valleys and plains. Their food was meager and of an +enervating sameness and their bodies degenerate. Children grew up long +and gaunt and yellow like badly nourished plants. Vague indefinite +hungers took hold of them and they gave themselves over to dreams. +The more energetic among them, sensing dimly the unfairness of their +position in life, became vicious and dangerous. Feuds started among them +and they killed each other to express their hatred of life. When, in +the years preceding the Civil War, a few of them pushed north along +the rivers and settled in Southern Indiana and Illinois and in Eastern +Missouri and Arkansas, they seemed to have exhausted their energy in +making the voyage and slipped quickly back into their old slothful way +of life. Their impulse to emigrate did not carry them far and but a few +of them ever reached the rich corn lands of central Indiana, Illinois +or Iowa or the equally rich land back from the river in Missouri or +Arkansas. In Southern Indiana and Illinois they were merged into the +life about them and with the infusion of new blood they a little awoke. +They have tempered the quality of the peoples of those regions, +made them perhaps less harshly energetic than their forefathers, the +pioneers. In many of the Missouri and Arkansas river towns they have +changed but little. A visitor to these parts may see them there to-day, +long, gaunt, and lazy, sleeping their lives away and awakening out of +their stupor only at long intervals and at the call of hunger. + +As for Hugh McVey, he stayed in his home town and among his own people +for a year after the departure of the man and woman who had been father +and mother to him, and then he also departed. All through the year he +worked constantly to cure himself of the curse of indolence. When he +awoke in the morning he did not dare lie in bed for a moment for fear +indolence would overcome him and he would not be able to arise at all. +Getting out of bed at once he dressed and went to the station. During +the day there was not much work to be done and he walked for hours up +and down the station platform. When he sat down he at once took up +a book and put his mind to work. When the pages of the book became +indistinct before his eyes and he felt within him the inclination +to drift off into dreams, he again arose and walked up and down the +platform. Having accepted the New England woman's opinion of his own +people and not wanting to associate with them, his life became utterly +lonely and his loneliness also drove him to labor. + +Something happened to him. Although his body would not and never did +become active, his mind began suddenly to work with feverish eagerness. +The vague thoughts and feelings that had always been a part of him but +that had been indefinite, ill-defined things, like clouds floating far +away in a hazy sky, began to grow definite. In the evening after his +work was done and he had locked the station for the night, he did not go +to the town hotel where he had taken a room and where he ate his meals, +but wandered about town and along the road that ran south beside the +great mysterious river. A hundred new and definite desires and hungers +awoke in him. He began to want to talk with people, to know men and +most of all to know women, but the disgust for his fellows in the town, +engendered in him by Sarah Shepard's words and most of all by the things +in his nature that were like their natures, made him draw back. When in +the fall at the end of the year after the Shepards had left and he +began living alone, his father was killed in a senseless quarrel with a +drunken river man over the ownership of a dog, a sudden, and what seemed +to him at the moment heroic resolution came to him. He went early one +morning to one of the town's two saloon keepers, a man who had been his +father's' nearest approach to a friend and companion, and gave him money +to bury the dead man. Then he wired to the headquarters of the railroad +company telling them to send a man to Mudcat Landing to take his place. +On the afternoon of the day on which his father was buried, he bought +himself a handbag and packed his few belongings. Then he sat down alone +on the steps of the railroad station to wait for the evening train that +would bring the man who was to replace him and that would at the same +time take him away. He did not know where he intended to go, but knew +that he wanted to push out into a new land and get among new people. +He thought he would go east and north. He remembered the long summer +evenings in the river town when the station master slept and his wife +talked. The boy who listened had wanted to sleep also, but with the eyes +of Sarah Shepard fixed on him, had not dared to do so. The woman had +talked of a land dotted with towns where the houses were all painted in +bright colors, where young girls dressed in white dresses went about in +the evening, walking under trees beside streets paved with bricks, where +there was no dust or mud, where stores were gay bright places filled +with beautiful wares that the people had money to buy in abundance and +where every one was alive and doing things worth while and none was +slothful and lazy. The boy who had now become a man wanted to go to such +a place. His work in the railroad station had given him some idea of the +geography of the country and, although he could not have told whether +the woman who had talked so enticingly had in mind her childhood in New +England or her girlhood in Michigan, he knew in a general way that to +reach the land and the people who were to show him by their lives the +better way to form his own life, he must go east. He decided that the +further east he went the more beautiful life would become, and that he +had better not try going too far in the beginning. “I'll go into the +northern part of Indiana or Ohio,” he told himself. “There must be +beautiful towns in those places.” + +Hugh was boyishly eager to get on his way and to become at once a part +of the life in a new place. The gradual awakening of his mind had +given him courage, and he thought of himself as armed and ready for +association with men. He wanted to become acquainted with and be +the friend of people whose lives were beautifully lived and who were +themselves beautiful and full of significance. As he sat on the steps +of the railroad station in the poor little Missouri town with his bag +beside him, and thought of all the things he wanted to do in life, his +mind became so eager and restless that some of its restlessness was +transmitted to his body. For perhaps the first time in his life he arose +without conscious effort and walked up and down the station platform out +of an excess of energy. He thought he could not bear to wait until the +train came and brought the man who was to take his place. “Well, I'm +going away, I'm going away to be a man among men,” he said to himself +over and over. The saying became a kind of refrain and he said +it unconsciously. As he repeated the words his heart beat high in +anticipation of the future he thought lay before him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Hugh McVey left the town of Mudcat Landing in early September of the +year eighteen eighty-six. He was then twenty years old and was six feet +and four inches tall. The whole upper part of his body was immensely +strong but his long legs were ungainly and lifeless. He secured a pass +from the railroad company that had employed him, and rode north along +the river in the night train until he came to a large town named +Burlington in the State of Iowa. There a bridge went over the river, and +the railroad tracks joined those of a trunk line and ran eastward toward +Chicago; but Hugh did not continue his journey on that night. Getting +off the train he went to a nearby hotel and took a room for the night. + +It was a cool clear evening and Hugh was restless. The town of +Burlington, a prosperous place in the midst of a rich farming country, +overwhelmed him with its stir and bustle. For the first time he saw +brick-paved streets and streets lighted with lamps. Although it was +nearly ten o'clock at night when he arrived, people still walked about +in the streets and many stores were open. + +The hotel where he had taken a room faced the railroad tracks and stood +at the corner of a brightly lighted street. When he had been shown to +his room Hugh sat for a half hour by an open window, and then as he +could not sleep, decided to go for a walk. For a time he walked in the +streets where the people stood about before the doors of the stores but, +as his tall figure attracted attention and he felt people staring at +him, he went presently into a side street. + +In a few minutes he became utterly lost. He went through what seemed to +him miles of streets lined with frame and brick houses, and occasionally +passed people, but was too timid and embarrassed to ask his way. The +street climbed upward and after a time he got into open country and +followed a road that ran along a cliff overlooking the Mississippi +River. The night was clear and the sky brilliant with stars. In the +open, away from the multitude of houses, he no longer felt awkward and +afraid, and went cheerfully along. After a time he stopped and stood +facing the river. Standing on a high cliff and with a grove of trees +at his back, the stars seemed to have all gathered in the eastern sky. +Below him the water of the river reflected the stars. They seemed to be +making a pathway for him into the East. + +The tall Missouri countryman sat down on a log near the edge of the +cliff and tried to see the water in the river below. Nothing was visible +but a bed of stars that danced and twinkled in the darkness. He had +made his way to a place far above the railroad bridge, but presently a +through passenger train from the West passed over it and the lights of +the train looked also like stars, stars that moved and beckoned and that +seemed to fly like flocks of birds out of the West into the East. + +For several hours Hugh sat on the log in the darkness. He decided that +it was hopeless for him to find his way back to the hotel, and was glad +of the excuse for staying abroad. His body for the first time in his +life felt light and strong and his mind was feverishly awake. A buggy +in which sat a young man and woman went along the road at his back, +and after the voices had died away silence came, broken only at long +intervals during the hours when he sat thinking of his future by +the barking of a dog in some distant house or the churning of the +paddle-wheels of a passing river boat. + +All of the early formative years of Hugh McVey's life had been spent +within sound of the lapping of the waters of the Mississippi River. He +had seen it in the hot summer when the water receded and the mud lay +baked and cracked along the edge of the water; in the spring when the +floods raged and the water went whirling past, bearing tree logs and +even parts of houses; in the winter when the water looked deathly cold +and ice floated past; and in the fall when it was quiet and still and +lovely, and seemed to have sucked an almost human quality of warmth out +of the red trees that lined its shores. Hugh had spent hours and days +sitting or lying in the grass beside the river. The fishing shack in +which he had lived with his father until he was fourteen years old was +within a half dozen long strides of the river's edge, and the boy had +often been left there alone for a week at a time. When his father had +gone for a trip on a lumber raft or to work for a few days on some farm +in the country back from the river, the boy, left often without money +and with but a few loaves of bread, went fishing when he was hungry and +when he was not did nothing but idle the days away in the grass on the +river bank. Boys from the town came sometimes to spend an hour with him, +but in their presence he was embarrassed and a little annoyed. He wanted +to be left alone with his dreams. One of the boys, a sickly, pale, +undeveloped lad of ten, often stayed with him through an entire summer +afternoon. He was the son of a merchant in the town and grew quickly +tired when he tried to follow other boys about. On the river bank he lay +beside Hugh in silence. The two got into Hugh's boat and went fishing +and the merchant's son grew animated and talked. He taught Hugh to write +his own name and to read a few words. The shyness that kept them apart +had begun to break down, when the merchant's son caught some childhood +disease and died. + +In the darkness above the cliff that night in Burlington Hugh remembered +things concerning his boyhood that had not come back to his mind in +years. The very thoughts that had passed through his mind during those +long days of idling on the river bank came streaming back. + +After his fourteenth year when he went to work at the railroad station +Hugh had stayed away from the river. With his work at the station, and +in the garden back of Sarah Shepard's house, and the lessons in the +afternoons, he had little idle time. On Sundays however things were +different. Sarah Shepard did not go to church after she came to +Mudcat Landing, but she would have no work done on Sundays. On Sunday +afternoons in the summer she and her husband sat in chairs beneath a +tree beside the house and went to sleep. Hugh got into the habit of +going off by himself. He wanted to sleep also, but did not dare. He went +along the river bank by the road that ran south from the town, and when +he had followed it two or three miles, turned into a grove of trees and +lay down in the shade. + +The long summer Sunday afternoons had been delightful times for Hugh, so +delightful that he finally gave them up, fearing they might lead him to +take up again his old sleepy way of life. Now as he sat in the darkness +above the same river he had gazed on through the long Sunday afternoons, +a spasm of something like loneliness swept over him. For the first time +he thought about leaving the river country and going into a new land +with a keen feeling of regret. + +On the Sunday afternoons in the woods south of Mudcat Landing Hugh had +lain perfectly still in the grass for hours. The smell of dead fish that +had always been present about the shack where he spent his boyhood, was +gone and there were no swarms of flies. Above his head a breeze played +through the branches of the trees, and insects sang in the grass. +Everything about him was clean. A lovely stillness pervaded the river +and the woods. He lay on his belly and gazed down over the river out of +sleep-heavy eyes into hazy distances. Half formed thoughts passed like +visions through his mind. He dreamed, but his dreams were unformed and +vaporous. For hours the half dead, half alive state into which he had +got, persisted. He did not sleep but lay in a land between sleeping and +waking. Pictures formed in his mind. The clouds that floated in the sky +above the river took on strange, grotesque shapes. They began to move. +One of the clouds separated itself from the others. It moved swiftly +away into the dim distance and then returned. It became a half human +thing and seemed to be marshaling the other clouds. Under its influence +they became agitated and moved restlessly about. Out of the body of the +most active of the clouds long vaporous arms were extended. They pulled +and hauled at the other clouds making them also restless and agitated. + +Hugh's mind, as he sat in the darkness on the cliff above the river that +night in Burlington, was deeply stirred. Again he was a boy lying in +the woods above his river, and the visions that had come to him there +returned with startling clearness. He got off the log and lying in the +wet grass, closed his eyes. His body became warm. + +Hugh thought his mind had gone out of his body and up into the sky +to join the clouds and the stars, to play with them. From the sky he +thought he looked down on the earth and saw rolling fields, hills and +forests. He had no part in the lives of the men and women of the earth, +but was torn away from them, left to stand by himself. From his place in +the sky above the earth he saw the great river going majestically along. +For a time it was quiet and contemplative as the sky had been when he +was a boy down below lying on his belly in the wood. He saw men pass in +boats and could hear their voices dimly. A great quiet prevailed and he +looked abroad beyond the wide expanse of the river and saw fields and +towns. They were all hushed and still. An air of waiting hung over +them. And then the river was whipped into action by some strange unknown +force, something that had come out of a distant place, out of the place +to which the cloud had gone and from which it had returned to stir and +agitate the other clouds. + +The river now went tearing along. It overflowed its banks and swept +over the land, uprooting trees and forests and towns. The white faces of +drowned men and children, borne along by the flood, looked up into the +mind's eye of the man Hugh, who, in the moment of his setting out into +the definite world of struggle and defeat, had let himself slip back +into the vaporous dreams of his boyhood. + +As he lay in the wet grass in the darkness on the cliff Hugh tried +to force his way back to consciousness, but for a long time was +unsuccessful. He rolled and writhed about and his lips muttered words. +It was useless. His mind also was swept away. The clouds of which he +felt himself a part flew across the face of the sky. They blotted out +the sun from the earth, and darkness descended on the land, on the +troubled towns, on the hills that were torn open, on the forests that +were destroyed, on the peace and quiet of all places. In the country +stretching away from the river where all had been peace and quiet, +all was now agitation and unrest. Houses were destroyed and instantly +rebuilt. People gathered in whirling crowds. + +The dreaming man felt himself a part of something significant and +terrible that was happening to the earth and to the peoples of the +earth. Again he struggled to awake, to force himself back out of the +dream world into consciousness. When he did awake, day was breaking +and he sat on the very edge of the cliff that looked down upon the +Mississippi River, gray now in the dim morning light. + + * * * * * + +The towns in which Hugh lived during the first three years after he +began his eastward journey were all small places containing a few +hundred people, and were scattered through Illinois, Indiana and western +Ohio. All of the people among whom he worked and lived during that +time were farmers and laborers. In the spring of the first year of his +wandering he passed through the city of Chicago and spent two hours +there, going in and out at the same railroad station. + +He was not tempted to become a city man. The huge commercial city at the +foot of Lake Michigan, because of its commanding position in the very +center of a vast farming empire, had already become gigantic. He never +forgot the two hours he spent standing in the station in the heart of +the city and walking in the street adjoining the station. It was evening +when he came into the roaring, clanging place. On the long wide plains +west of the city he saw farmers at work with their spring plowing as the +train went flying along. Presently the farms grew small and the whole +prairie dotted with towns. In these the train did not stop but ran into +a crowded network of streets filled with multitudes of people. When he +got into the big dark station Hugh saw thousands of people rushing about +like disturbed insects. Unnumbered thousands of people were going out of +the city at the end of their day of work and trains waited to take +them to towns on the prairies. They came in droves, hurrying along like +distraught cattle, over a bridge and into the station. The in-bound +crowds that had alighted from through trains coming from cities of the +East and West climbed up a stairway to the street, and those that were +out-bound tried to descend by the same stairway and at the same time. +The result was a whirling churning mass of humanity. Every one pushed +and crowded his way along. Men swore, women grew angry, and children +cried. Near the doorway that opened into the street a long line of cab +drivers shouted and roared. + +Hugh looked at the people who were whirled along past him, and shivered +with the nameless fear of multitudes, common to country boys in the +city. When the rush of people had a little subsided he went out of the +station and, walking across a narrow street, stood by a brick store +building. Presently the rush of people began again, and again men, +women, and boys came hurrying across the bridge and ran wildly in at +the doorway leading into the station. They came in waves as water washes +along a beach during a storm. Hugh had a feeling that if he were by +some chance to get caught in the crowd he would be swept away into +some unknown and terrible place. Waiting until the rush had a little +subsided, he went across the street and on to the bridge to look at the +river that flowed past the station. It was narrow and filled with ships, +and the water looked gray and dirty. A pall of black smoke covered the +sky. From all sides of him and even in the air above his head a great +clatter and roar of bells and whistles went on. + +With the air of a child venturing into a dark forest Hugh went a little +way into one of the streets that led westward from the station. Again +he stopped and stood by a building. Near at hand a group of young +city roughs stood smoking and talking before a saloon. Out of a nearby +building came a young girl who approached and spoke to one of them. +The man began to swear furiously. “You tell her I'll come in there in +a minute and smash her face,” he said, and, paying no more attention to +the girl, turned to stare at Hugh. All of the young men lounging before +the saloon turned to stare at the tall countryman. They began to laugh +and one of them walked quickly toward him. + +Hugh ran along the street and into the station followed by the shouts of +the young roughs. He did not venture out again, and when his train +was ready, got aboard and went gladly out of the great complex +dwelling-place of modern Americans. + +Hugh went from town to town always working his way eastward, always +seeking the place where happiness was to come to him and where he was to +achieve companionship with men and women. He cut fence posts in a forest +on a large farm in Indiana, worked in the fields, and in one place was a +section hand on the railroad. + +On a farm in Indiana, some forty miles east of Indianapolis, he was for +the first time powerfully touched by the presence of a woman. She was +the daughter of the farmer who was Hugh's employer, and was an alert, +handsome woman of twenty-four who had been a school teacher but had +given up the work because she was about to be married. Hugh thought the +man who was to marry her the most fortunate being in the world. He lived +in Indianapolis and came by train to spend the week-ends at the farm. +The woman prepared for his coming by putting on a white dress and +fastening a rose in her hair. The two people walked about in an orchard +beside the house or went for a ride along the country roads. The +young man, who, Hugh had been told, worked in a bank, wore stiff white +collars, a black suit and a black derby hat. + +On the farm Hugh worked in the field with the farmer and ate at table +with his family, but did not get acquainted with them. On Sunday when +the young man came he took the day off and went into a nearby town. The +courtship became a matter very close to him and he lived through +the excitement of the weekly visits as though he had been one of the +principals. The daughter of the house, sensing the fact that the +silent farm hand was stirred by her presence, became interested in him. +Sometimes in the evening as he sat on a little porch before the house, +she came to join him, and sat looking at him with a peculiarly detached +and interested air. She tried to make talk, but Hugh answered all her +advances so briefly and with such a half frightened manner that she gave +up the attempt. One Saturday evening when her sweetheart had come she +took him for a ride in the family carriage, and Hugh concealed himself +in the hay loft of the barn to wait for their return. + +Hugh had never seen or heard a man express in any way his affection for +a woman. It seemed to him a terrifically heroic thing to do and he +hoped by concealing himself in the barn to see it done. It was a bright +moonlight night and he waited until nearly eleven o'clock before the +lovers returned. In the hayloft there was an opening high up under the +roof. Because of his great height he could reach and pull himself up, +and when he had done so, found a footing on one of the beams that formed +the framework of the barn. The lovers stood unhitching the horse in the +barnyard below. When the city man had led the horse into the stable he +hurried quickly out again and went with the farmer's daughter along a +path toward the house. The two people laughed and pulled at each other +like children. They grew silent and when they had come near the house, +stopped by a tree to embrace. Hugh saw the man take the woman into his +arms and hold her tightly against his body. He was so excited that he +nearly fell off the beam. His imagination was inflamed and he tried +to picture himself in the position of the young city man. His fingers +gripped the boards to which he clung and his body trembled. The two +figures standing in the dim light by the tree became one. For a long +time they clung tightly to each other and then drew apart. They went +into the house and Hugh climbed down from his place on the beam and +lay in the hay. His body shook as with a chill and he was half ill of +jealousy, anger, and an overpowering sense of defeat. It did not seem to +him at the moment that it was worth while for him to go further east or +to try to find a place where he would be able to mingle freely with men +and women, or where such a wonderful thing as had happened to the man in +the barnyard below might happen to him. + +Hugh spent the night in the hayloft and at daylight crept out and went +into a nearby town. He returned to the farmhouse late on Monday when +he was sure the city man had gone away. In spite of the protest of +the farmer he packed his clothes at once and declared his intention of +leaving. He did not wait for the evening meal but hurried out of the +house. When he got into the road and had started to walk away, he looked +back and saw the daughter of the house standing at an open door and +looking at him. Shame for what he had done on the night before swept +over him. For a moment he stared at the woman who, with an intense, +interested air stared back at him, and then putting down his head he +hurried away. The woman watched him out of sight and later, when her +father stormed about the house, blaming Hugh for leaving so suddenly and +declaring the tall Missourian was no doubt a drunkard who wanted to go +off on a drunk, she had nothing to say. In her own heart she knew what +was the matter with her father's farm hand and was sorry he had gone +before she had more completely exercised her power over him. + + * * * * * + +None of the towns Hugh visited during his three years of wandering +approached realization of the sort of life Sarah Shepard had talked to +him about. They were all very much alike. There was a main street with +a dozen stores on each side, a blacksmith shop, and perhaps an elevator +for the storage of grain. All day the town was deserted, but in the +evening the citizens gathered on Main Street. On the sidewalks before +the stores young farm hands and clerks sat on store boxes or on the +curbing. They did not pay any attention to Hugh who, when he went to +stand near them, remained silent and kept himself in the background. The +farm hands talked of their work and boasted of the number of bushels of +corn they could pick in a day, or of their skill in plowing. The clerks +were intent upon playing practical jokes which pleased the farm hands +immensely. While one of them talked loudly of his skill in his work a +clerk crept out at the door of one of the stores and approached him. He +held a pin in his hand and with it jabbed the talker in the back. The +crowd yelled and shouted with delight. If the victim became angry a +quarrel started, but this did not often happen. Other men came to join +the party and the joke was told to them. “Well, you should have seen +the look on his face. I thought I would die,” one of the bystanders +declared. + +Hugh got a job with a carpenter who specialized in the building of barns +and stayed with him all through one fall. Later he went to work as a +section hand on a railroad. Nothing happened to him. He was like one +compelled to walk through life with a bandage over his eyes. On all +sides of him, in the towns and on the farms, an undercurrent of life +went on that did not touch him. In even the smallest of the towns, +inhabited only by farm laborers, a quaint interesting civilization was +being developed. Men worked hard but were much in the open air and +had time to think. Their minds reached out toward the solution of the +mystery of existence. The schoolmaster and the country lawyer read Tom +Paine's “Age of Reason” and Bellamy's “Looking Backward.” They discussed +these books with their fellows. There was a feeling, ill expressed, that +America had something real and spiritual to offer to the rest of the +world. Workmen talked to each other of the new tricks of their trades, +and after hours of discussion of some new way to cultivate corn, shape +a horseshoe or build a barn, spoke of God and his intent concerning +man. Long drawn out discussions of religious beliefs and the political +destiny of America were carried on. + +And across the background of these discussions ran tales of action in +a sphere outside the little world in which the inhabitants of the towns +lived. Men who had been in the Civil War and who had climbed fighting +over hills and in the terror of defeat had swum wide rivers, told the +tale of their adventures. + +In the evening, after his day of work in the field or on the railroad +with the section hands, Hugh did not know what to do with himself. That +he did not go to bed immediately after the evening meal was due to the +fact that he looked upon his tendency to sleep and to dream as an enemy +to his development; and a peculiarly persistent determination to make +something alive and worth while out of himself--the result of the five +years of constant talking on the subject by the New England woman--had +taken possession of him. “I'll find the right place and the right people +and then I'll begin,” he continually said to himself. + +And then, worn out with weariness and loneliness, he went to bed in +one of the little hotels or boarding houses where he lived during those +years, and his dreams returned. The dream that had come that night as +he lay on the cliff above the Mississippi River near the town of +Burlington, came back time after time. He sat upright in bed in the +darkness of his room and after he had driven the cloudy, vague sensation +out of his brain, was afraid to go to sleep again. He did not want to +disturb the people of the house and so got up and dressed and without +putting on his shoes walked up and down in the room. Sometimes the room +he occupied had a low ceiling and he was compelled to stoop. He crept +out of the house carrying his shoes in his hand and sat down on the +sidewalk to put them on. In all the towns he visited, people saw him +walking alone through the streets late at night or in the early hours of +the morning. Whispers concerning the matter ran about. The story of what +was spoken of as his queerness came to the men with whom he worked, +and they found themselves unable to talk freely and naturally in his +presence. At the noon hour when the men ate the lunch they had carried +to work, when the boss was gone and it was customary among the workers +to talk of their own affairs, they went off by themselves. Hugh followed +them about. They went to sit under a tree, and when Hugh came to stand +nearby, they became silent or the more vulgar and shallow among them +began to show off. While he worked with a half dozen other men as a +section hand on the railroad, two men did all the talking. Whenever the +boss went away an old man who had a reputation as a wit told stories +concerning his relations with women. A young man with red hair took the +cue from him. The two men talked loudly and kept looking at Hugh. The +younger of the two wits turned to another workman who had a weak, timid +face. “Well, you,” he cried, “what about your old woman? What about her? +Who is the father of your son? Do you dare tell?” + +In the towns Hugh walked about in the evening and tried always to keep +his mind fixed on definite things. He felt that humanity was for some +unknown reason drawing itself away from him, and his mind turned back +to the figure of Sarah Shepard. He remembered that she had never been +without things to do. She scrubbed her kitchen floor and prepared food +for cooking; she washed, ironed, kneaded dough for bread, and mended +clothes. In the evening, when she made the boy read to her out of one of +the school books or do sums on a slate, she kept her hands busy knitting +socks for him or for her husband. Except when something had crossed her +so that she scolded and her face grew red, she was always cheerful. +When the boy had nothing to do at the station and had been sent by the +station master to work about the house, to draw water from the cistern +for a family washing, or pull weeds in the garden, he heard the woman +singing as she went about the doing of her innumerable petty tasks. Hugh +decided that he also must do small tasks, fix his mind upon definite +things. In the town where he was employed as a section hand, the cloud +dream in which the world became a whirling, agitated center of disaster +came to him almost every night. Winter came on and he walked through +the streets at night in the darkness and through the deep snow. He was +almost frozen; but as the whole lower part of his body was habitually +cold he did not much mind the added discomfort, and so great was the +reserve of strength in his big frame that the loss of sleep did not +affect his ability to labor all day without effort. + +Hugh went into one of the residence streets of the town and counted the +pickets in the fences before the houses. He returned to the hotel and +made a calculation as to the number of pickets in all the fences in +town. Then he got a rule at the hardware store and carefully measured +the pickets. He tried to estimate the number of pickets that could be +cut out of certain sized trees and that gave his mind another opening. +He counted the number of trees in every street in town. He learned to +tell at a glance and with relative accuracy how much lumber could be cut +out of a tree. He built imaginary houses with lumber cut from the trees +that lined the streets. He even tried to figure out a way to utilize the +small limbs cut from the tops of the trees, and one Sunday went into the +wood back of the town and cut a great armful of twigs, which he carried +to his room and later with great patience wove into the form of a +basket. + + + + +BOOK TWO + + +CHAPTER III + + +Bidwell, Ohio, was an old town as the ages of towns go in the Central +West, long before Hugh McVey, in his search for a place where he could +penetrate the wall that shut him off from humanity, went there to live +and to try to work out his problem. It is a busy manufacturing town now +and has a population of nearly a hundred thousand people; but the time +for the telling of the story of its sudden and surprising growth has not +yet come. + +From the beginning Bidwell has been a prosperous place. The town lies +in the valley of a deep, rapid-flowing river that spreads out just +above the town, becomes for the time wide and shallow, and goes singing +swiftly along over stones. South of the town the river not only spreads +out, but the hills recede. A wide flat valley stretches away to the +north. In the days before the factories came the land immediately about +town was cut up into small farms devoted to fruit and berry raising, +and beyond the area of small farms lay larger tracts that were immensely +productive and that raised huge crops of wheat, corn, and cabbage. + +When Hugh was a boy sleeping away his days in the grass beside his +father's fishing shack by the Mississippi River, Bidwell had already +emerged out of the hardships of pioneer days. On the farms that lay in +the wide valley to the north the timber had been cut away and the stumps +had all been rooted out of the ground by a generation of men that had +passed. The soil was easy to cultivate and had lost little of its virgin +fertility. Two railroads, the Lake Shore and Michigan Central--later +a part of the great New York Central System--and a less important +coal-carrying road, called the Wheeling and Lake Erie, ran through the +town. Twenty-five hundred people lived then in Bidwell. They were for +the most part descendants of the pioneers who had come into the country +by boat through the Great Lakes or by wagon roads over the mountains +from the States of New York and Pennsylvania. + +The town stood on a sloping incline running up from the river, and the +Lake Shore and Michigan Central Railroad had its station on the river +bank at the foot of Main Street. The Wheeling Station was a mile away to +the north. It was to be reached by going over a bridge and along a piked +road that even then had begun to take on the semblance of a street. A +dozen houses had been built facing Turner's Pike and between these were +berry fields and an occasional orchard planted to cherry, peach or apple +trees. A hard path went down to the distant station beside the road, +and in the evening this path, wandering along under the branches of +the fruit trees that extended out over the farm fences, was a favorite +walking place for lovers. + +The small farms lying close about the town of Bidwell raised berries +that brought top prices in the two cities, Cleveland and Pittsburgh, +reached by its two railroads, and all of the people of the town who +were not engaged in one of the trades--in shoe making, carpentry, horse +shoeing, house painting or the like--or who did not belong to the small +merchant and professional classes, worked in summer on the land. On +summer mornings, men, women and children went into the fields. In the +early spring when planting went on and all through late May, June and +early July when berries and fruit began to ripen, every one was rushed +with work and the streets of the town were deserted. Every one went to +the fields. Great hay wagons loaded with children, laughing girls, and +sedate women set out from Main Street at dawn. Beside them walked tall +boys, who pelted the girls with green apples and cherries from the trees +along the road, and men who went along behind smoking their morning +pipes and talking of the prevailing prices of the products of their +fields. In the town after they had gone a Sabbath quiet prevailed. The +merchants and clerks loitered in the shade of the awnings before the +doors of the stores, and only their wives and the wives of the two or +three rich men in town came to buy and to disturb their discussions of +horse racing, politics and religion. + +In the evening when the wagons came home, Bidwell awoke. The tired berry +pickers walked home from the fields in the dust of the roads swinging +their dinner pails. The wagons creaked at their heels, piled high with +boxes of berries ready for shipment. In the stores after the evening +meal crowds gathered. Old men lit their pipes and sat gossiping along +the curbing at the edge of the sidewalks on Main Street; women with +baskets on their arms did the marketing for the next day's living; +the young men put on stiff white collars and their Sunday clothes, and +girls, who all day had been crawling over the fields between the rows +of berries or pushing their way among the tangled masses of raspberry +bushes, put on white dresses and walked up and down before the men. +Friendships begun between boys and girls in the fields ripened into +love. Couples walked along residence streets under the trees and talked +with subdued voices. They became silent and embarrassed. The bolder +ones kissed. The end of the berry picking season brought each year a new +outbreak of marriages to the town of Bidwell. + +In all the towns of mid-western America it was a time of waiting. The +country having been cleared and the Indians driven away into a vast +distant place spoken of vaguely as the West, the Civil War having been +fought and won, and there being no great national problems that touched +closely their lives, the minds of men were turned in upon themselves. +The soul and its destiny was spoken of openly on the streets. Robert +Ingersoll came to Bidwell to speak in Terry's Hall, and after he had +gone the question of the divinity of Christ for months occupied the +minds of the citizens. The ministers preached sermons on the subject +and in the evening it was talked about in the stores. Every one had +something to say. Even Charley Mook, who dug ditches, who stuttered so +that not a half dozen people in town could understand him, expressed his +opinion. + +In all the great Mississippi Valley each town came to have a character +of its own, and the people who lived in the towns were to each other +like members of a great family. The individual idiosyncrasies of each +member of the great family stood forth. A kind of invisible roof beneath +which every one lived spread itself over each town. Beneath the roof +boys and girls were born, grew up, quarreled, fought, and formed +friendships with their fellows, were introduced into the mysteries of +love, married, and became the fathers and mothers of children, grew old, +sickened, and died. + +Within the invisible circle and under the great roof every one knew his +neighbor and was known to him. Strangers did not come and go swiftly and +mysteriously and there was no constant and confusing roar of machinery +and of new projects afoot. For the moment mankind seemed about to take +time to try to understand itself. + +In Bidwell there was a man named Peter White who was a tailor and worked +hard at his trade, but who once or twice a year got drunk and beat his +wife. He was arrested each time and had to pay a fine, but there was a +general understanding of the impulse that led to the beating. Most of +the women knowing the wife sympathized with Peter. “She is a noisy thing +and her jaw is never still,” the wife of Henry Teeters, the grocer, said +to her husband. “If he gets drunk it's only to forget he's married to +her. Then he goes home to sleep it off and she begins jawing at him. He +stands it as long as he can. It takes a fist to shut up that woman. If +he strikes her it's the only thing he can do.” + +Allie Mulberry the half-wit was one of the highlights of life in the +town. He lived with his mother in a tumble-down house at the edge of +town on Medina Road. Beside being a half-wit he had something the matter +with his legs. They were trembling and weak and he could only move +them with great difficulty. On summer afternoons when the streets were +deserted, he hobbled along Main Street with his lower jaw hanging down. +Allie carried a large club, partly for the support of his weak legs and +partly to scare off dogs and mischievous boys. He liked to sit in the +shade with his back against a building and whittle, and he liked to be +near people and have his talent as a whittler appreciated. He made fans +out of pieces of pine, long chains of wooden beads, and he once achieved +a singular mechanical triumph that won him wide renown. He made a ship +that would float in a beer bottle half filled with water and laid on +its side. The ship had sails and three tiny wooden sailors who stood +at attention with their hands to their caps in salute. After it was +constructed and put into the bottle it was too large to be taken out +through the neck. How Allie got it in no one ever knew. The clerks and +merchants who crowded about to watch him at work discussed the matter +for days. It became a never-ending wonder among them. In the evening +they spoke of the matter to the berry pickers who came into the stores, +and in the eyes of the people of Bidwell Allie Mulberry became a hero. +The bottle, half-filled with water and securely corked, was laid on a +cushion in the window of Hunter's Jewelry Store. As it floated about on +its own little ocean crowds gathered to look at it. Over the bottle +was a sign with the words--“Carved by Allie Mulberry of +Bidwell”--prominently displayed. Below these words a query had been +printed. “How Did He Get It Into The Bottle?” was the question asked. +The bottle stayed in the window for months and merchants took the +traveling men who visited them, to see it. Then they escorted their +guests to where Allie, with his back against the wall of a building and +his club beside him, was at work on some new creation of the whittler's +art. The travelers were impressed and told the tale abroad. Allie's fame +spread to other towns. “He has a good brain,” the citizen of Bidwell +said, shaking his head. “He don't appear to know very much, but look +what he does! He must be carrying all sorts of notions around inside of +his head.” + +Jane Orange, widow of a lawyer, and with the single exception of Thomas +Butterworth, a farmer who owned over a thousand acres of land and lived +with his daughter on a farm a mile south of town, the richest person +in town, was known to every one in Bidwell, but was not liked. She was +called stingy and it was said that she and her husband had cheated every +one with whom they had dealings in order to get their start in life. The +town ached for the privilege of doing what they called “bringing them +down a peg.” Jane's husband had once been the Bidwell town attorney and +later had charge of the settlement of an estate belonging to Ed Lucas, a +farmer who died leaving two hundred acres of land and two daughters. The +farmer's daughters, every one said, “came out at the small end of the +horn,” and John Orange began to grow rich. It was said he was worth +fifty thousand dollars. All during the latter part of his life the +lawyer went to the city of Cleveland on business every week, and when he +was at home and even in the hottest weather he went about dressed in +a long black coat. When she went to the stores to buy supplies for +her house Jane Orange was watched closely by the merchants. She was +suspected of carrying away small articles that could be slipped into +the pockets of her dress. One afternoon in Toddmore's grocery, when she +thought no one was looking, she took a half dozen eggs out of a basket +and looking quickly around to be sure she was unobserved, put them into +her dress pocket. Harry Toddmore, the grocer's son who had seen the +theft, said nothing, but went unobserved out at the back door. He got +three or four clerks from other stores and they waited for Jane Orange +at a corner. When she came along they hurried out and Harry Toddmore +fell against her. Throwing out his hand he struck the pocket containing +the eggs a quick, sharp blow. Jane Orange turned and hurried away toward +home, but as she half ran through Main Street clerks and merchants came +out of the stores, and from the assembled crowd a voice called attention +to the fact that the contents of the stolen eggs having run down the +inside of her dress and over her stockings began to make a stream on the +sidewalk. A pack of town dogs excited by the shouts of the crowd ran at +her heels, barking and sniffing at the yellow stream that dripped from +her shoes. + +An old man with a long white beard came to Bidwell to live. He had been +a carpet-bag Governor of a southern state in the reconstruction days +after the Civil War and had made money. He bought a house on Turner's +Pike close beside the river and spent his days puttering about in a +small garden. In the evening he came across the bridge into Main Street +and went to loaf in Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked with great +frankness and candor of his life in the South during the terrible time +when the country was trying to emerge from the black gloom of defeat, +and brought to the Bidwell men a new point of view on their old enemies, +the “Rebs.” + +The old man--the name by which he had introduced himself in Bidwell was +that of Judge Horace Hanby--believed in the manliness and honesty of +purpose of the men he had for a time governed and who had fought a +long grim war with the North, with the New Englanders and sons of New +Englanders from the West and Northwest. “They're all right,” he said +with a grin. “I cheated them and made some money, but I liked them. Once +a crowd of them came to my house and threatened to kill me and I told +them that I did not blame them very much, so they let me alone.” The +judge, an ex-politician from the city of New York who had been involved +in some affair that made it uncomfortable for him to return to live +in that city, grew prophetic and philosophic after he came to live in +Bidwell. In spite of the doubt every one felt concerning his past, he +was something of a scholar and a reader of books, and won respect by his +apparent wisdom. “Well, there's going to be a new war here,” he said. +“It won't be like the Civil War, just shooting off guns and killing +peoples' bodies. At first it's going to be a war between individuals +to see to what class a man must belong; then it is going to be a long, +silent war between classes, between those who have and those who can't +get. It'll be the worst war of all.” + +The talk of Judge Hanby, carried along and elaborated almost every +evening before a silent, attentive group in the drug store, began to +have an influence on the minds of Bidwell young men. At his suggestion +several of the town boys, Cliff Bacon, Albert Small, Ed Prawl, and two +or three others, began to save money for the purpose of going east to +college. Also at his suggestion Tom Butterworth the rich farmer sent +his daughter away to school. The old man made many prophecies concerning +what would happen in America. “I tell you, the country isn't going to +stay as it is,” he said earnestly. “In eastern towns the change has +already come. Factories are being built and every one is going to work +in the factories. It takes an old man like me to see how that changes +their lives. Some of the men stand at one bench and do one thing not +only for hours but for days and years. There are signs hung up saying +they mustn't talk. Some of them make more money than they did before the +factories came, but I tell you it's like being in prison. What would +you say if I told you all America, all you fellows who talk so big about +freedom, are going to be put in a prison, eh? + +“And there's something else. In New York there are already a dozen +men who are worth a million dollars. Yes, sir, I tell you it's true, a +million dollars. What do you think of that, eh?” + +Judge Hanby grew excited and, inspired by the absorbed attention of his +audience, talked of the sweep of events. In England, he explained, the +cities were constantly growing larger, and already almost every one +either worked in a factory or owned stock in a factory. “In New England +it is getting the same way fast,” he explained. “The same thing'll +happen here. Farming'll be done with tools. Almost everything now done +by hand'll be done by machinery. Some'll grow rich and some poor. The +thing is to get educated, yes, sir, that's the thing, to get ready for +what's coming. It's the only way. The younger generation has got to be +sharper and shrewder.” + +The words of the old man, who had been in many places and had seen men +and cities, were repeated in the streets of Bidwell. The blacksmith and +the wheelwright repeated his words when they stopped to exchange news of +their affairs before the post-office. Ben Peeler, the carpenter, who +had been saving money to buy a house and a small farm to which he +could retire when he became too old to climb about on the framework of +buildings, used the money instead to send his son to Cleveland to a new +technical school. Steve Hunter, the son of Abraham Hunter the Bidwell +jeweler, declared that he was going to get up with the times, and when +he went into a factory, would go into the office, not into the shop. He +went to Buffalo, New York, to attend a business college. + +The air of Bidwell began to stir with talk of new times. The evil +things said of the new life coming were soon forgotten. The youth and +optimistic spirit of the country led it to take hold of the hand of the +giant, industrialism, and lead him laughing into the land. The cry, +“get on in the world,” that ran all over America at that period and that +still echoes in the pages of American newspapers and magazines, rang in +the streets of Bidwell. + +In the harness shop belonging to Joseph Wainsworth it one day struck a +new note. The harness maker was a tradesman of the old school and was +vastly independent. He had learned his trade after five years' service +as apprentice, and had spent an additional five years in going from +place to place as a journeyman workman, and felt that he knew his +business. Also he owned his shop and his home and had twelve hundred +dollars in the bank. At noon one day when he was alone in the shop, Tom +Butterworth came in and told him he had ordered four sets of farm work +harness from a factory in Philadelphia. “I came in to ask if you'll +repair them if they get out of order,” he said. + +Joe Wainsworth began to fumble with the tools on his bench. Then he +turned to look the farmer in the eye and to do what he later spoke of to +his cronies as “laying down the law.” “When the cheap things begin to +go to pieces take them somewhere else to have them repaired,” he said +sharply. He grew furiously angry. “Take the damn things to Philadelphia +where you got 'em,” he shouted at the back of the farmer who had turned +to go out of the shop. + +Joe Wainsworth was upset and thought about the incident all the +afternoon. When farmer-customers came in and stood about to talk of +their affairs he had nothing to say. He was a talkative man and his +apprentice, Will Sellinger, son of the Bidwell house painter, was +puzzled by his silence. + +When the boy and the man were alone in the shop, it was Joe Wainsworth's +custom to talk of his days as a journeyman workman when he had gone from +place to place working at his trade. If a trace were being stitched or a +bridle fashioned, he told how the thing was done at a shop where he had +worked in the city of Boston and in another shop at Providence, Rhode +Island. Getting a piece of paper he made drawings illustrating the +cuts of leather that were made in the other places and the methods +of stitching. He claimed to have worked out his own method for doing +things, and that his method was better than anything he had seen in all +his travels. To the men who came into the shop to loaf during winter +afternoons he presented a smiling front and talked of their affairs, of +the price of cabbage in Cleveland or the effect of a cold snap on the +winter wheat, but alone with the boy, he talked only of harness making. +“I don't say anything about it. What's the good bragging? Just the same, +I could learn something to all the harness makers I've ever seen, and +I've seen the best of them,” he declared emphatically. + +During the afternoon, after he had heard of the four factory-made work +harnesses brought into what he had always thought of as a trade that +belonged to him by the rights of a first-class workman, Joe remained +silent for two or three hours. He thought of the words of old Judge +Hanby and the constant talk of the new times now coming. Turning +suddenly to his apprentice, who was puzzled by his long silence and who +knew nothing of the incident that had disturbed his employer, he broke +forth into words. He was defiant and expressed his defiance. “Well, +then, let 'em go to Philadelphia, let 'em go any damn place +they please,” he growled, and then, as though his own words had +re-established his self-respect, he straightened his shoulders and +glared at the puzzled and alarmed boy. “I know my trade and do not have +to bow down to any man,” he declared. He expressed the old tradesman's +faith in his craft and the rights it gave the craftsman. “Learn your +trade. Don't listen to talk,” he said earnestly. “The man who knows his +trade is a man. He can tell every one to go to the devil.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Hugh McVey was twenty-three years old when he went to live in Bidwell. +The position of telegraph operator at the Wheeling station a mile north +of town became vacant and, through an accidental encounter with a former +resident of a neighboring town, he got the place. + +The Missourian had been at work during the winter in a sawmill in the +country near a northern Indiana town. During the evenings he wandered on +country roads and in the town streets, but he did not talk to any one. +As had happened to him in other places, he had the reputation of being +queer. His clothes were worn threadbare and, although he had money +in his pockets, he did not buy new ones. In the evening when he went +through the town streets and saw the smartly dressed clerks standing +before the stores, he looked at his own shabby person and was ashamed to +enter. In his boyhood Sarah Shepard had always attended to the buying +of his clothes, and he made up his mind that he would go to the place in +Michigan to which she and her husband had retired, and pay her a visit. +He wanted Sarah Shepard to buy him a new outfit of clothes, but wanted +also to talk with her. + +Out of the three years of going from place to place and working with +other men as a laborer, Hugh had got no big impulse that he felt would +mark the road his life should take; but the study of mathematical +problems, taken up to relieve his loneliness and to cure his inclination +to dreams, was beginning to have an effect on his character. He thought +that if he saw Sarah Shepard again he could talk to her and through her +get into the way of talking to others. In the sawmill where he worked he +answered the occasional remarks made to him by his fellow workers in +a slow, hesitating drawl, and his body was still awkward and his gait +shambling, but he did his work more quickly and accurately. In the +presence of his foster-mother and garbed in new clothes, he believed +he could now talk to her in a way that had been impossible during his +youth. She would see the change in his character and would be encouraged +about him. They would get on to a new basis and he would feel respect +for himself in another. + +Hugh went to the railroad station to make inquiry regarding the fare to +the Michigan town and there had the adventure that upset his plans. As +he stood at the window of the ticket office, the ticket seller, who was +also the telegraph operator, tried to engage him in conversation. When +he had given the information asked, he followed Hugh out of the building +and into the darkness of a country railroad station at night, and the +two men stopped and stood together beside an empty baggage truck. The +ticket agent spoke of the loneliness of life in the town and said he +wished he could go back to his own place and be again with his own +people. “It may not be any better in my own town, but I know everybody +there,” he said. He was curious concerning Hugh as were all the people +of the Indiana town, and hoped to get him into talk in order that he +might find out why he walked alone at night, why he sometimes worked all +evening over books and figures in his room at the country hotel, and why +he had so little to say to his fellows. Hoping to fathom Hugh's silence +he abused the town in which they both lived. “Well,” he began, “I +guess I understand how you feel. You want to get out of this place.” + He explained his own predicament in life. “I got married,” he said. +“Already I have three children. Out here a man can make more money +railroading than he can in my state, and living is pretty cheap. Just +to-day I had an offer of a job in a good town near my own place in Ohio, +but I can't take it. The job only pays forty a month. The town's all +right, one of the best in the northern part of the State, but you see +the job's no good. Lord, I wish I could go. I'd like to live again among +people such as live in that part of the country.” + +The railroad man and Hugh walked along the street that ran from the +station up into the main street of the town. Wanting to meet the +advances that had been made by his companion and not knowing how to go +about it, Hugh adopted the method he had heard his fellow laborers use +with one another. “Well,” he said slowly, “come have a drink.” + +The two men went into a saloon and stood by the bar. Hugh made a +tremendous effort to overcome his embarrassment. As he and the railroad +man drank foaming glasses of beer he explained that he also had once +been a railroad man and knew telegraphy, but that for several years he +had been doing other work. His companion looked at his shabby clothes +and nodded his head. He made a motion with his head to indicate that he +wanted Hugh to come with him outside into the darkness. “Well, well,” + he exclaimed, when they had again got outside and had started along the +street toward the station. “I understand now. They've all been wondering +about you and I've heard lots of talk. I won't say anything, but I'm +going to do something for you.” + +Hugh went to the station with his new-found friend and sat down in the +lighted office. The railroad man got out a sheet of paper and began to +write a letter. “I'm going to get you that job,” he said. “I'm writing +the letter now and I'll get it off on the midnight train. You've got to +get on your feet. I was a boozer myself, but I cut it all out. A glass +of beer now and then, that's my limit.” + +He began to talk of the town in Ohio where he proposed to get Hugh the +job that would set him up in the world and save him from the habit of +drinking, and described it as an earthly paradise in which lived bright, +clear-thinking men and beautiful women. Hugh was reminded sharply of the +talk he had heard from the lips of Sarah Shepard, when in his youth she +spent long evenings telling him of the wonder of her own Michigan and +New England towns and people, and contrasted the life lived there with +that lived by the people of his own place. + +Hugh decided not to try to explain away the mistake made by his new +acquaintance, and to accept the offer of assistance in getting the +appointment as telegraph operator. + +The two men walked out of the station and stood again in the darkness. +The railroad man felt like one who has been given the privilege of +plucking a human soul out of the darkness of despair. He was full of +words that poured from his lips and he assumed a knowledge of Hugh and +his character entirely unwarranted by the circumstances. “Well,” he +exclaimed heartily, “you see I've given you a send-off. I have told them +you're a good man and a good operator, but that you will take the place +with its small salary because you've been sick and just now can't work +very hard.” The excited man followed Hugh along the street. It was +late and the store lights had been put out. From one of the town's two +saloons that lay in their way arose a clatter of voices. The old boyhood +dream of finding a place and a people among whom he could, by sitting +still and inhaling the air breathed by others, come into a warm +closeness with life, came back to Hugh. He stopped before the saloon to +listen to the voices within, but the railroad man plucked at his coat +sleeve and protested. “Now, now, you're going to cut it out, eh?” he +asked anxiously and then hurriedly explained his anxiety. “Of course +I know what's the matter with you. Didn't I tell you I've been there +myself? You've been working around. I know why that is. You don't have +to tell me. If there wasn't something the matter with him, no man who +knows telegraphy would work in a sawmill. + +“Well, there's no good talking about it,” he added thoughtfully. “I've +given you a send-off. You're going to cut it out, eh?” + +Hugh tried to protest and to explain that he was not addicted to the +habit of drinking, but the Ohio man would not listen. “It's all right,” + he said again, and then they came to the hotel where Hugh lived and he +turned to go back to the station and wait for the midnight train that +would carry the letter away and that would, he felt, carry also his +demand that a fellow-human, who had slipped from the modern path of +work and progress should be given a new chance. He felt magnanimous and +wonderfully gracious. “It's all right, my boy,” he said heartily. “No +use talking to me. To-night when you came to the station to ask the fare +to that hole of a place in Michigan I saw you were embarrassed. 'What's +the matter with that fellow?' I said to myself. I got to thinking. Then +I came up town with you and right away you bought me a drink. I wouldn't +have thought anything about that if I hadn't been there myself. You'll +get on your feet. Bidwell, Ohio, is full of good men. You get in with +them and they'll help you and stick by you. You'll like those people. +They've got get-up to them. The place you'll work at there is far out of +town. It's away out about a mile at a little kind of outside-like place +called Pickleville. There used to be a saloon there and a factory for +putting up cucumber pickles, but they've both gone now. You won't be +tempted to slip in that place. You'll have a chance to get on your feet. +I'm glad I thought of sending you there.” + + * * * * * + +The Wheeling and Lake Erie ran along a little wooded depression that cut +across the wide expanse of open farm lands north of the town of Bidwell. +It brought coal from the hill country of West Virginia and southeastern +Ohio to ports on Lake Erie, and did not pay much attention to the +carrying of passengers. In the morning a train consisting of a combined +express and baggage car and two passenger coaches went north and west +toward the lake, and in the evening the same train returned, bound +southeast into the Hills, The Bidwell station of the road was, in an odd +way, detached from the town's life. The invisible roof under which the +life of the town and the surrounding country was lived did not cover it. +As the Indiana railroad man had told Hugh, the station itself stood on a +spot known locally as Pickleville. Back of the station there was a small +building for the storage of freight and near at hand four or five houses +facing Turner's Pike. The pickle factory, now deserted and with its +windows gone, stood across the tracks from the station and beside a +small stream that ran under a bridge and across country through a grove +of trees to the river. On hot summer days a sour, pungent smell arose +from the old factory, and at night its presence lent a ghostly flavor to +the tiny corner of the world in which lived perhaps a dozen people. + +All day and at night an intense persistent silence lay over Pickleville, +while in Bidwell a mile away the stir of new life began. In the evenings +and on rainy afternoons when men could not work in the fields, old Judge +Hanby went along Turner's Pike and across the wagon bridge into Bidwell +and sat in a chair at the back of Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked. +Men came in to listen to him and went out. New talk ran through the +town. A new force that was being born into American life and into +life everywhere all over the world was feeding on the old dying +individualistic life. The new force stirred and aroused the people. It +met a need that was universal. It was meant to seal men together, to +wipe out national lines, to walk under seas and fly through the air, +to change the entire face of the world in which men lived. Already the +giant that was to be king in the place of old kings was calling his +servants and his armies to serve him. He used the methods of old +kings and promised his followers booty and gain. Everywhere he went +unchallenged, surveying the land, raising a new class of men to +positions of power. Railroads had already been pushed out across the +plains; great coal fields from which was to be taken food to warm the +blood in the body of the giant were being opened up; iron fields were +being discovered; the roar and clatter of the breathing of the terrible +new thing, half hideous, half beautiful in its possibilities, that was +for so long to drown the voices and confuse the thinking of men, was +heard not only in the towns but even in lonely farm houses, where its +willing servants, the newspapers and magazines, had begun to circulate +in ever increasing numbers. At the town of Gibsonville, near Bidwell, +Ohio, and at Lima and Finley, Ohio, oil and gas fields were discovered. +At Cleveland, Ohio, a precise, definite-minded man named Rockefeller +bought and sold oil. From the first he served the new thing well and +he soon found others to serve with him. The Morgans, Fricks, Goulds, +Carnegies, Vanderbilts, servants of the new king, princes of the new +faith, merchants all, a new kind of rulers of men, defied the world-old +law of class that puts the merchant below the craftsman, and added +to the confusion of men by taking on the air of creators. They were +merchants glorified and dealt in giant things, in the lives of men and +in mines, forests, oil and gas fields, factories, and railroads. + +And all over the country, in the towns, the farm houses, and the growing +cities of the new country, people stirred and awakened. Thought and +poetry died or passed as a heritage to feeble fawning men who also +became servants of the new order. Serious young men in Bidwell and in +other American towns, whose fathers had walked together on moonlight +nights along Turner's Pike to talk of God, went away to technical +schools. Their fathers had walked and talked and thoughts had grown +up in them. The impulse had reached back to their father's fathers on +moonlit roads of England, Germany, Ireland, France, and Italy, and +back of these to the moonlit hills of Judea where shepherds talked and +serious young men, John and Matthew and Jesus, caught the drift of the +talk and made poetry of it; but the serious-minded sons of these men in +the new land were swept away from thinking and dreaming. From all sides +the voice of the new age that was to do definite things shouted at them. +Eagerly they took up the cry and ran with it. Millions of voices arose. +The clamor became terrible, and confused the minds of all men. In making +way for the newer, broader brotherhood into which men are some day to +emerge, in extending the invisible roofs of the towns and cities to +cover the world, men cut and crushed their way through the bodies of +men. + +And while the voices became louder and more excited and the new giant +walked about making a preliminary survey of the land, Hugh spent his +days at the quiet, sleepy railroad station at Pickleville and tried to +adjust his mind to the realization of the fact that he was not to be +accepted as fellow by the citizens of the new place to which he had +come. During the day he sat in the tiny telegraph office or, pulling an +express truck to the open window near his telegraph instrument, lay on +his back with a sheet of paper propped on his bony knees and did sums. +Farmers driving past on Turner's Pike saw him there and talked of him +in the stores in town. “He's a queer silent fellow,” they said. “What do +you suppose he's up to?” + +Hugh walked in the streets of Bidwell at night as he had walked in the +streets of towns in Indiana and Illinois. He approached groups of men +loafing on a street corner and then went hurriedly past them. On quiet +streets as he went along under the trees, he saw women sitting in the +lamplight in the houses and hungered to have a house and a woman of his +own. One afternoon a woman school teacher came to the station to make +inquiry regarding the fare to a town in West Virginia. As the station +agent was not about Hugh gave her the information she sought and she +lingered for a few moments to talk with him. He answered the questions +she asked with monosyllables and she soon went away, but he was +delighted and looked upon the incident as an adventure. At night he +dreamed of the school teacher and when he awoke, pretended she was with +him in his bedroom. He put out his hand and touched the pillow. It was +soft and smooth as he imagined the cheek of a woman would be. He did +not know the school teacher's name but invented one for her. “Be quiet, +Elizabeth. Do not let me disturb your sleep,” he murmured into the +darkness. One evening he went to the house where the school teacher +boarded and stood in the shadow of a tree until he saw her come out and +go toward Main Street. Then he went by a roundabout way and walked past +her on the sidewalk before the lighted stores. He did not look at her, +but in passing her dress touched his arm and he was so excited later +that he could not sleep and spent half the night walking about and +thinking of the wonderful thing that had happened to him. + +The ticket, express, and freight agent for the Wheeling and Lake Erie +at Bidwell, a man named George Pike, lived in one of the houses near the +station, and besides attending to his duties for the railroad company, +owned and worked a small farm. He was a slender, alert, silent man with +a long drooping mustache. Both he and his wife worked as Hugh had never +seen a man and woman work before. Their arrangement of the division of +labor was not based on sex but on convenience. Sometimes Mrs. Pike came +to the station to sell tickets, load express boxes and trunks on the +passenger trains and deliver heavy boxes of freight to draymen and +farmers, while her husband worked in the fields back of his house or +prepared the evening meal, and sometimes the matter was reversed and +Hugh did not see Mrs. Pike for several days at a time. + +During the day there was little for the station agent or his wife to do +at the station and they disappeared. George Pike had made an arrangement +of wires and pulleys connecting the station with a large bell hung on +top of his house, and when some one came to the station to receive or +deliver freight Hugh pulled at the wire and the bell began to ring. In +a few minutes either George Pike or his wife came running from the house +or fields, dispatched the business and went quickly away again. + +Day after day Hugh sat in a chair by a desk in the station or went +outside and walked up and down the station platform. Engines pulling +long caravans of coal cars ground past. The brakemen waved their hands +to him and then the train disappeared into the grove of trees that +grew beside the creek along which the tracks of the road were laid. In +Turner's Pike a creaking farm wagon appeared and then disappeared along +the tree-lined road that led to Bidwell. The farmer turned on his wagon +seat to stare at Hugh but unlike the railroad men did not wave his hand. +Adventurous boys came out along the road from town and climbed, shouting +and laughing, over the rafters in the deserted pickle factory across the +tracks or went to fish in the creek in the shade of the factory walls. +Their shrill voices added to the loneliness of the spot. It became +almost unbearable to Hugh. In desperation he turned from the rather +meaningless doing of sums and working out of problems regarding the +number of fence pickets that could be cut from a tree or the number of +steel rails or railroad ties consumed in building a mile of railroad, +the innumerable petty problems with which he had been keeping his mind +busy, and turned to more definite and practical problems. He remembered +an autumn he had put in cutting corn on a farm in Illinois and, going +into the station, waved his long arms about, imitating the movements of +a man in the act of cutting corn. He wondered if a machine might not be +made that would do the work, and tried to make drawings of the parts of +such a machine. Feeling his inability to handle so difficult a problem +he sent away for books and began the study of mechanics. He joined a +correspondence school started by a man in Pennsylvania, and worked for +days on the problems the man sent him to do. He asked questions and +began a little to understand the mystery of the application of power. +Like the other young men of Bidwell he began to put himself into touch +with the spirit of the age, but unlike them he did not dream of suddenly +acquired wealth. While they embraced new and futile dreams he worked to +destroy the tendency to dreams in himself. + +Hugh came to Bidwell in the early spring and during May, June and July +the quiet station at Pickleville awoke for an hour or two each evening. +A certain percentage of the sudden and almost overwhelming increase in +express business that came with the ripening of the fruit and berry crop +came to the Wheeling, and every evening a dozen express trucks, piled +high with berry boxes, waited for the south bound train. When the train +came into the station a small crowd had assembled. George Pike and +his stout wife worked madly, throwing the boxes in at the door of the +express car. Idlers standing about became interested and lent a hand. +The engineer climbed out of his locomotive, stretched his legs and +crossing a narrow road got a drink from the pump in George Pike's yard. + +Hugh walked to the door of his telegraph office and standing in the +shadows watched the busy scene. He wanted to take part in it, to laugh +and talk with the men standing about, to go to the engineer and ask +questions regarding the locomotive and its construction, to help George +Pike and his wife, and perhaps cut through their silence and his own +enough to become acquainted with them. He thought of all these things +but stayed in the shadow of the door that led to the telegraph office +until, at a signal given by the train conductor, the engineer climbed +into his engine and the train began to move away into the evening +darkness. When Hugh came out of his office the station platform was +deserted again. In the grass across the tracks and beside the ghostly +looking old factory, crickets sang. Tom Wilder, the Bidwell hack driver, +had got a traveling man off the train and the dust left by the heels +of his team still hung in the air over Turner's Pike. From the darkness +that brooded over the trees that grew along the creek beyond the factory +came the hoarse croak of frogs. On Turner's Pike a half dozen Bidwell +young men accompanied by as many town girls walked along the path beside +the road under the trees. They had come to the station to have somewhere +to go, had made up a party to come, but now the half unconscious purpose +of their coming was apparent. The party split itself up into couples and +each strove to get as far away as possible from the others. One of the +couples came back along the path toward the station and went to the pump +in George Pike's yard. They stood by the pump, laughing and pretending +to drink out of a tin cup, and when they got again into the road the +others had disappeared. They became silent. Hugh went to the end of the +platform and watched as they walked slowly along. He became furiously +jealous of the young man who put his arm about the waist of his +companion and then, when he turned and saw Hugh staring at him, took it +away again. + +The telegraph operator went quickly along the platform until he was out +of range of the young man's eyes, and, when he thought the gathering +darkness would hide him, returned and crept along the path beside the +road after him. Again a hungry desire to enter into the lives of the +people about him took possession of the Missourian. To be a young man +dressed in a stiff white collar, wearing neatly made clothes, and in the +evening to walk about with young girls seemed like getting on the road +to happiness. He wanted to run shouting along the path beside the road +until he had overtaken the young man and woman, to beg them to take him +with them, to accept him as one of themselves, but when the momentary +impulse had passed and he returned to the telegraph office and lighted +a lamp, he looked at his long awkward body and could not conceive +of himself as ever by any chance becoming the thing he wanted to be. +Sadness swept over him and his gaunt face, already cut and marked with +deep lines, became longer and more gaunt. The old boyhood notion, put +into his mind by the words of his foster-mother, Sarah Shepard, that a +town and a people could remake him and erase from his body the marks +of what he thought of as his inferior birth, began to fade. He tried to +forget the people about him and turned with renewed energy to the study +of the problems in the books that now lay in a pile upon his desk. His +inclination to dreams, balked by the persistent holding of his mind to +definite things, began to reassert itself in a new form, and his brain +played no more with pictures of clouds and men in agitated movement but +took hold of steel, wood, and iron. Dumb masses of materials taken out +of the earth and the forests were molded by his mind into fantastic +shapes. As he sat in the telegraph office during the day or walked alone +through the streets of Bidwell at night, he saw in fancy a thousand new +machines, formed by his hands and brain, doing the work that had been +done by the hands of men. He had come to Bidwell, not only in the hope +that there he would at last find companionship, but also because his +mind was really aroused and he wanted leisure to begin trying to do +tangible things. When the citizens of Bidwell would not take him into +their town life but left him standing to one side, as the tiny dwelling +place for men called Pickleville where he lived stood aside out from +under the invisible roof of the town, he decided to try to forget men +and to express himself wholly in work. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Hugh's first inventive effort stirred the town of Bidwell deeply. When +word of it ran about, the men who had been listening to the talk of +Judge Horace Hanby and whose minds had turned toward the arrival of the +new forward-pushing impulse in American life thought they saw in Hugh +the instrument of its coming to Bidwell. From the day of his coming to +live among them, there had been much curiosity in the stores and houses +regarding the tall, gaunt, slow-speaking stranger at Pickleville. George +Pike had told Birdie Spinks the druggist how Hugh worked all day over +books, and how he made drawings for parts of mysterious machines and +left them on his desk in the telegraph office. Birdie Spinks told others +and the tale grew. When Hugh walked alone in the streets during the +evening and thought no one took account of his presence, hundreds of +pairs of curious eyes followed him about. + +A tradition in regard to the telegraph operator began to grow up. The +tradition made Hugh a gigantic figure, one who walked always on a plane +above that on which other men lived. In the imagination of his fellow +citizens of the Ohio town, he went about always thinking great thoughts, +solving mysterious and intricate problems that had to do with the new +mechanical age Judge Hanby talked about to the eager listeners in the +drug-store. An alert, talkative people saw among them one who could not +talk and whose long face was habitually serious, and could not think +of him as having daily to face the same kind of minor problems as +themselves. + +The Bidwell young man who had come down to the Wheeling station with a +group of other young men, who had seen the evening train go away to +the south, who had met at the station one of the town girls and had, in +order to escape the others and be alone with her, taken her to the pump +in George Pike's yard on the pretense of wanting a drink, walked away +with her into the darkness of the summer evening with his mind fixed +on Hugh. The young man's name was Ed Hall and he was apprentice to Ben +Peeler, the carpenter who had sent his son to Cleveland to a technical +school. He wanted to marry the girl he had met at the station and +did not see how he could manage it on his salary as a carpenter's +apprentice. When he looked back and saw Hugh standing on the station +platform, he took the arm he had put around the girl's waist quickly +away and began to talk. “I'll tell you what,” he said earnestly, “if +things don't pretty soon get on the stir around here I'm going to get +out. I'll go over by Gibsonburg and get a job in the oil fields, that's +what I'll do. I got to have more money.” He sighed heavily and looked +over the girl's head into the darkness. “They say that telegraph fellow +back there at the station is up to something,” he ventured. “It's all +the talk. Birdie Spinks says he is an inventor; says George Pike told +him; says he is working all the time on new inventions to do things by +machinery; that his passing off as a telegraph operator is only a bluff. +Some think maybe he was sent here to see about starting a factory to +make one of his inventions, sent by rich men maybe in Cleveland or some +other place. Everybody says they'll bet there'll be factories here in +Bidwell before very long now. I wish I knew. I don't want to go away if +I don't have to, but I got to have more money. Ben Peeler won't never +give me a raise so I can get married or nothing. I wish I knew that +fellow back there so I could ask him what's up. They say he's smart. I +suppose he wouldn't tell me nothing. I wish I was smart enough to invent +something and maybe get rich. I wish I was the kind of fellow they say +he is.” + +Ed Hall again put his arm about the girl's waist and walked away. He +forgot Hugh and thought of himself and of how he wanted to marry the +girl whose young body nestled close to his own--wanted her to be utterly +his. For a few hours he passed out of Hugh's growing sphere of influence +on the collective thought of the town, and lost himself in the immediate +deliciousness of kisses. + +And as he passed out of Hugh's influence others came in. On Main Street +in the evening every one speculated on the Missourian's purpose in +coming to Bidwell. The forty dollars a month paid him by the Wheeling +railroad could not have tempted such a man. They were sure of that. +Steve Hunter the jeweler's son had returned to town from a course in +a business college at Buffalo, New York, and hearing the talk became +interested. Steve had in him the making of a live man of affairs, and +he decided to investigate. It was not, however, Steve's method to go +at things directly, and he was impressed by the notion, then abroad in +Bidwell, that Hugh had been sent to town by some one, perhaps by a group +of capitalists who intended to start factories there. + +Steve thought he would go easy. In Buffalo, where he had gone to the +business college, he had met a girl whose father, E. P. Horn, owned +a soap factory; had become acquainted with her at church and had been +introduced to her father. The soap maker, an assertive positive man who +manufactured a product called Horn's Household Friend Soap, had his own +notion of what a young man should be and how he should make his way +in the world, and had taken pleasure in talking to Steve. He told the +Bidwell jeweler's son of how he had started his own factory with but +little money and had succeeded and gave Steve many practical hints on +the organization of companies. He talked a great deal of a thing called +“control.” “When you get ready to start for yourself keep that in mind,” + he said. “You can sell stock and borrow money at the bank, all you can +get, but don't give up control. Hang on to that. That's the way I made +my success. I always kept the control.” + +Steve wanted to marry Ernestine Horn, but felt that he should show what +he could do as a business man before he attempted to thrust himself into +so wealthy and prominent a family. When he returned to his own town +and heard the talk regarding Hugh McVey and his inventive genius, he +remembered the soap maker's words regarding control, and repeated them +to himself. One evening he walked along Turner's Pike and stood in the +darkness by the old pickle factory. He saw Hugh at work under a lamp in +the telegraph office and was impressed. “I'll lay low and see what +he's up to,” he told himself. “If he's got an invention, I'll get up a +company. I'll get money in and I'll start a factory. The people here'll +tumble over each other to get into a thing like that. I don't believe +any one sent him here. I'll bet he's just an inventor. That kind always +are queer. I'll keep my mouth shut and watch my chance. If there is +anything starts, I'll start it and I'll get into control, that's what +I'll do, I'll get into control.” + + * * * * * + +In the country stretching away north beyond the fringe of small berry +farms lying directly about town, were other and larger farms. The land +that made up these larger farms was also rich and raised big crops. +Great stretches of it were planted to cabbage for which a market had +been built up in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. Bidwell was +often in derision called Cabbageville by the citizens of nearby towns. +One of the largest of the cabbage farms belonged to a man named Ezra +French, and was situated on Turner's Pike, two miles from town and a +mile beyond the Wheeling station. + +On spring evenings when it was dark and silent about the station +and when the air was heavy with the smell of new growth and of land +fresh-turned by the plow, Hugh got out of his chair in the telegraph +office and walked in the soft darkness. He went along Turner's Pike to +town, saw groups of men standing on the sidewalks before the stores and +young girls walking arm in arm along the street, and then came back to +the silent station. Into his long and habitually cold body the warmth +of desire began to creep. The spring rains came and soft winds blew down +from the hill country to the south. One evening when the moon shone he +went around the old pickle factory to where the creek went chattering +under leaning willow trees, and as he stood in the heavy shadows by the +factory wall, tried to imagine himself as one who had become suddenly +clean-limbed, graceful, and agile. A bush grew beside the stream near +the factory and he took hold of it with his powerful hands and tore it +out by the roots. For a moment the strength in his shoulders and arms +gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. He thought of how powerfully +he could hold the body of a woman against his body and the spark of the +fires of spring that had touched him became a flame. He felt new-made +and tried to leap lightly and gracefully across the stream, but stumbled +and fell in the water. Later he went soberly back to the station and +tried again to lose himself in the study of the problems he had found in +his books. + +The Ezra French farm lay beside Turner's Pike a mile north of the +Wheeling station and contained two hundred acres of land of which a +large part was planted to cabbages. It was a profitable crop to raise +and required no more care than corn, but the planting was a terrible +task. Thousands of plants that had been raised from seeds planted in a +seed-bed back of the barn had to be laboriously transplanted. The plants +were tender and it was necessary to handle them carefully. The planter +crawled slowly and painfully along, and from the road looked like a +wounded beast striving to make his way to a hole in a distant wood. He +crawled forward a little and then stopped and hunched himself up into +a ball-like mass. Taking the plant, dropped on the ground by one of +the plant droppers, he made a hole in the soft ground with a small +three-cornered hoe, and with his hands packed the earth about the plant +roots. Then he crawled on again. + +Ezra the cabbage farmer had come west from one of the New England states +and had grown comfortably wealthy, but he would not employ extra labor +for the plant setting and the work was done by his sons and daughters. +He was a short, bearded man whose leg had been broken in his youth by a +fall from the loft of a barn. As it had not mended properly he could +do little work and limped painfully about. To the men of Bidwell he was +known as something of a wit, and in the winter he went to town every +afternoon to stand in the stores and tell the Rabelaisian stories for +which he was famous; but when spring came he became restlessly active, +and in his own house and on the farm, became a tyrant. During the time +of the cabbage setting he drove his sons and daughters like slaves. +When in the evening the moon came up, he made them go back to the fields +immediately after supper and work until midnight. They went in sullen +silence, the girls to limp slowly along dropping the plants out of +baskets carried on their arms, and the boys to crawl after them and set +the plants. In the half darkness the little group of humans went slowly +up and down the long fields. Ezra hitched a horse to a wagon and brought +the plants from the seed-bed behind the barn. He went here and there +swearing and protesting against every delay in the work. When his wife, +a tired little old woman, had finished the evening's work in the house, +he made her come also to the fields. “Come, come,” he said, sharply, “we +need every pair of hands we can get.” Although he had several thousand +dollars in the Bidwell bank and owned mortgages on two or three +neighboring farms, Ezra was afraid of poverty, and to keep his family at +work pretended to be upon the point of losing all his possessions. “Now +is our chance to save ourselves,” he declared. “We must get in a big +crop. If we do not work hard now we'll starve.” When in the field his +sons found themselves unable to crawl longer without resting, and stood +up to stretch their tired bodies, he stood by the fence at the field's +edge and swore. “Well, look at the mouths I have to feed, you lazies!” + he shouted. “Keep at the work. Don't be idling around. In two weeks +it'll be too late for planting and then you can rest. Now every plant +we set will help to save us from ruin. Keep at the job. Don't be idling +around.” + +In the spring of his second year in Bidwell, Hugh went often in the +evening to watch the plant setters at work in the moonlight on the +French farm. He did not make his presence known but hid himself in +a fence corner behind bushes and watched the workers. As he saw the +stooped misshapen figures crawling slowly along and heard the words of +the old man driving them like cattle, his heart was deeply touched and +he wanted to protest. In the dim light the slowly moving figures of +women appeared, and after them came the crouched crawling men. They +came down the long row toward him, wriggling into his line of sight like +grotesquely misshapen animals driven by some god of the night to the +performance of a terrible task. An arm went up. It came down again +swiftly. The three-cornered hoe sank into the ground. The slow rhythm +of the crawler was broken. He reached with his disengaged hand for the +plant that lay on the ground before him and lowered it into the hole the +hoe had made. With his fingers he packed the earth about the roots of +the plant and then again began the slow crawl forward. There were four +of the French boys and the two older ones worked in silence. The younger +boys complained. The three girls and their mother, who were attending +to the plant dropping, came to the end of the row and turning, went away +into the darkness. “I'm going to quit this slavery,” one of the younger +boys said. “I'll get a job over in town. I hope it's true what they say, +that factories are coming.” + +The four young men came to the end of the row and, as Ezra was not in +sight, stood a moment by the fence near where Hugh was concealed. “I'd +rather be a horse or a cow than what I am,” the complaining voice went +on. “What's the good being alive if you have to work like this?” + +For a moment as he listened to the voices of the complaining workers, +Hugh wanted to go to them and ask them to let him share in their labor. +Then another thought came. The crawling figures came sharply into his +line of vision. He no longer heard the voice of the youngest of the +French boys that seemed to come out of the ground. The machine-like +swing of the bodies of the plant setters suggested vaguely to his mind +the possibility of building a machine that would do the work they were +doing. His mind took eager hold of that thought and he was relieved. +There had been something in the crawling figures and in the moonlight +out of which the voices came that had begun to awaken in his mind the +fluttering, dreamy state in which he had spent so much of his boyhood. +To think of the possibility of building a plant-setting machine was +safer. It fitted into what Sarah Shepard had so often told him was the +safe way of life. As he went back through the darkness to the railroad +station, he thought about the matter and decided that to become an +inventor would be the sure way of placing his feet at last upon the path +of progress he was trying to find. + +Hugh became absorbed in the notion of inventing a machine that would +do the work he had seen the men doing in the field. All day he thought +about it. The notion once fixed in his mind gave him something tangible +to work upon. In the study of mechanics, taken up in a purely +amateur spirit, he had not gone far enough to feel himself capable of +undertaking the actual construction of such a machine, but thought +the difficulty might be overcome by patience and by experimenting with +combinations of wheels, gears and levers whittled out of pieces of wood. +From Hunter's Jewelry Store he got a cheap clock and spent days +taking it apart and putting it together again. He dropped the doing +of mathematical problems and sent away for books describing the +construction of machines. Already the flood of new inventions, that was +so completely to change the methods of cultivating the soil in America, +had begun to spread over the country, and many new and strange kinds +of agricultural implements arrived at the Bidwell freight house of +the Wheeling railroad. There Hugh saw a harvesting machine for cutting +grain, a mowing machine for cutting hay and a long-nosed strange-looking +implement that was intended to root potatoes out of the ground very much +after the method pursued by energetic pigs. He studied these carefully. +For a time his mind turned away from the hunger for human contact and +he was content to remain an isolated figure, absorbed in the workings of +his own awakening mind. + +An absurd and amusing thing happened. After the impulse to try to invent +a plant-setting machine came to him, he went every evening to conceal +himself in the fence corner and watch the French family at their labors. +Absorbed in watching the mechanical movements of the men who crawled +across the fields in the moonlight, he forgot they were human. After +he had watched them crawl into sight, turn at the end of the rows, and +crawl away again into the hazy light that had reminded him of the dim +distances of his own Mississippi River country, he was seized with +a desire to crawl after them and to try to imitate their movements. +Certain intricate mechanical problems, that had already come into his +mind in connection with the proposed machine, he thought could be better +understood if he could get the movements necessary to plant setting +into his own body. His lips began to mutter words and getting out of the +fence corner where he had been concealed he began to crawl across the +field behind the French boys. “The down stroke will go so,” he muttered, +and bringing up his arm swung it above his head. His fist descended into +the soft ground. He had forgotten the rows of new set plants and crawled +directly over them, crushing them into the soft ground. He stopped +crawling and waved his arm about. He tried to relate his arms to the +mechanical arms of the machine that was being created in his mind. +Holding one arm stiffly in front of him he moved it up and down. “The +stroke will be shorter than that. The machine must be built close to the +ground. The wheels and the horses will travel in paths between the +rows. The wheels must be broad to provide traction. I will gear from the +wheels to get power for the operation of the mechanism,” he said aloud. + +Hugh arose and stood in the moonlight in the cabbage field, his arms +still going stiffly up and down. The great length of his figure and +his arms was accentuated by the wavering uncertain light. The laborers, +aware of some strange presence, sprang to their feet and stood listening +and looking. Hugh advanced toward them, still muttering words and +waving his arms. Terror took hold of the workers. One of the woman plant +droppers screamed and ran away across the field, and the others ran +crying at her heels. “Don't do it. Go away,” the older of the French +boys shouted, and then he with his brothers also ran. + +Hearing the voices Hugh stopped and stared about. The field was empty. +Again he lost himself in his mechanical calculations. He went back along +the road to the Wheeling station and to the telegraph office where he +worked half the night on a rude drawing he was trying to make of the +parts of his plant setting machine, oblivious to the fact that he had +created a myth that would run through the whole countryside. The French +boys and their sisters stoutly declared that a ghost had come into the +cabbage fields and had threatened them with death if they did not go +away and quit working at night. In a trembling voice their mother backed +up their assertion. Ezra French, who had not seen the apparition and did +not believe the tale, scented a revolution. He swore. He threatened the +entire family with starvation. He declared that a lie had been invented +to deceive and betray him. + +However, the work at night in the cabbage fields on the French farm was +at an end. The story was told in the town of Bidwell, and as the entire +French family except Ezra swore to its truth, was generally believed. +Tom Foresby, an old citizen who was a spiritualist, claimed to have +heard his father say that there had been in early days an Indian +burying-ground on the Turner Pike. + +The cabbage field on the French farm became locally famous. Within +a year two other men declared they had seen the figure of a gigantic +Indian dancing and singing a funeral dirge in the moonlight. Farmer +boys, who had been for an evening in town and were returning late at +night to lonely farmhouses, whipped their horses into a run when they +came to the farm. When it was far behind them they breathed more freely. +Although he continued to swear and threaten, Ezra never again succeeded +in getting his family into the fields at night. In Bidwell he declared +that the story of the ghost invented by his lazy sons and daughters had +ruined his chance for making a decent living out of his farm. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Steve Hunter decided that it was time something was done to wake up his +native town. The call of the spring wind awoke something in him as in +Hugh. It came up from the south bringing rain followed by warm fair +days. Robins hopped about on the lawns before the houses on the +residence streets of Bidwell, and the air was again sweet with the +pregnant sweetness of new-plowed ground. Like Hugh, Steve walked about +alone through the dark, dimly lighted residence streets during the +spring evenings, but he did not try awkwardly to leap over creeks in +the darkness or pull bushes out of the ground, nor did he waste his time +dreaming of being physically young, clean-limbed and beautiful. + +Before the coming of his great achievements in the industrial field, +Steve had not been highly regarded in his home town. He had been a noisy +boastful youth and had been spoiled by his father. When he was twelve +years old what were called safety bicycles first came into use and for +a long time he owned the only one in town. In the evening he rode it up +and down Main Street, frightening the horses and arousing the envy +of the town boys. He learned to ride without putting his hands on the +handle-bars and the other boys began to call him Smarty Hunter and +later, because he wore a stiff, white collar that folded down over his +shoulders, they gave him a girl's name. “Hello, Susan,” they shouted, +“don't fall and muss your clothes.” + +In the spring that marked the beginning of his great industrial +adventure, Steve was stirred by the soft spring winds into dreaming his +own kind of dreams. As he walked about through the streets, avoiding the +other young men and women, he remembered Ernestine, the daughter of the +Buffalo soap maker, and thought a great deal about the magnificence of +the big stone house in which she lived with her father. His body ached +for her, but that was a matter he felt could be managed. How he could +achieve a financial position that would make it possible for him to ask +for her hand was a more difficult problem. Since he had come back from +the business college to live in his home town, he had secretly, and at +the cost of two new five dollar dresses, arranged a physical alliance +with a girl named Louise Trucker whose father was a farm laborer, +and that left his mind free for other things. He intended to become a +manufacturer, the first one in Bidwell, to make himself a leader in the +new movement that was sweeping over the country. He had thought out +what he wanted to do and it only remained to find something for him to +manufacture to put his plans through. First of all he had selected with +great care certain men he intended to ask to go in with him. There was +John Clark the banker, his own father, E. H. Hunter the town jeweler, +Thomas Butterworth the rich farmer, and young Gordon Hart, who had a job +as assistant cashier in the bank. For a month he had been dropping hints +to these men of something mysterious and important about to happen. With +the exception of his father who had infinite faith in the shrewdness and +ability of his son, the men he wanted to impress were only amused. One +day Thomas Butterworth went into the bank and stood talking the matter +over with John Clark. “The young squirt was always a Smart-Aleck and +a blow-hard,” he said. “What's he up to now? What's he nudging and +whispering about?” + +As he walked in the main street of Bidwell, Steve began to acquire +that air of superiority that later made him so respected and feared. He +hurried along with a peculiarly intense absorbed look in his eyes. He +saw his fellow townsmen as through a haze, and sometimes did not see +them at all. As he went along he took papers from his pocket, read +them hurriedly, and then quickly put them away again. When he did +speak--perhaps to a man who had known him from boyhood--there was in his +manner something gracious to the edge of condescension. One morning in +March he met Zebe Wilson the town shoemaker on the sidewalk before the +post-office. Steve stopped and smiled. “Well, good morning, Mr. Wilson,” + he said, “and how is the quality of leather you are getting from the +tanneries now?” + +Word regarding this strange salutation ran about among the merchants +and artisans. “What's he up to now?” they asked each other. “Mr. Wilson, +indeed! Now what's wrong between that young squirt and Zebe Wilson?” + +In the afternoon, four clerks from the Main Street stores and Ed Hall +the carpenter's apprentice, who had a half day off because of rain, +decided to investigate. One by one they went along Hamilton Street +to Zebe Wilson's shop and stepped inside to repeat Steve Hunter's +salutation. “Well, good afternoon, Mr. Wilson,” they said, “and how is +the quality of leather you are getting from the tanneries now?” Ed Hall, +the last of the five who went into the shop to repeat the formal and +polite inquiry, barely escaped with his life. Zebe Wilson threw a +shoemaker's hammer at him and it went through the glass in the upper +part of the shop door. + +Once when Tom Butterworth and John Clark the banker were talking of the +new air of importance he was assuming, and half indignantly speculated +on what he meant by his whispered suggestion of something significant +about to happen, Steve came along Main Street past the front door of the +bank. John Clark called him in. The three men confronted each other and +the jeweler's son sensed the fact that the banker and the rich farmer +were amused by his pretensions. At once he proved himself to be what +all Bidwell later acknowledged him to be, a man who could handle men +and affairs. Having at that time nothing to support his pretensions he +decided to put up a bluff. With a wave of his hand and an air of knowing +just what he was about, he led the two men into the back room of the +bank and shut the door leading into the large room to which the general +public was admitted. “You would have thought he owned the place,” John +Clark afterward said with a note of admiration in his voice to young +Gordon Hart when he described what took place in the back room. + +Steve plunged at once into what he had to say to the two solid moneyed +citizens of his town. “Well, now, look here, you two,” he began +earnestly. “I'm going to tell you something, but you got to keep still.” + He went to the window that looked out upon an alleyway and glanced about +as though fearful of being overheard, then sat down in the chair usually +occupied by John Clark on the rare occasions when the directors of the +Bidwell bank held a meeting. Steve looked over the heads of the two men +who in spite of themselves were beginning to be impressed. “Well,” + he began, “there is a fellow out at Pickleville. You have maybe heard +things said about him. He's telegraph operator out there. Perhaps you +have heard how he is always making drawings of parts of machines. I +guess everybody in town has been wondering what he's up to.” + +Steve looked at the two men and then got nervously out of the chair +and walked about the room. “That fellow is my man. I put him there,” he +declared. “I didn't want to tell any one yet.” + +The two men nodded and Steve became lost in the notion created in his +fancy. It did not occur to him that what he had just said was untrue. +He began to scold the two men. “Well, I suppose I'm on the wrong track +there,” he said. “My man has made an invention that will bring millions +in profits to those who get into it. In Cleveland and Buffalo I'm +already in touch with big bankers. There's to be a big factory built, +but you see yourself how it is, here I'm at home. I was raised as a boy +here.” + +The excited young man plunged into an exposition of the spirit of the +new times. He grew bold and scolded the older men. “You know yourself +that factories are springing up everywhere, in towns all over the +State,” he said. “Will Bidwell wake up? Will we have factories here? You +know well enough we won't, and I know why. It's because a man like me +who was raised here has to go to a city to get money to back his plans. +If I talked to you fellows you would laugh at me. In a few years I might +make you more money than you have made in your whole lives, but what's +the use talking? I'm Steve Hunter; you knew me when I was a kid. You'd +laugh. What's the use my trying to tell you fellows my plans?” + +Steve turned as though to go out of the room, but Tom Butterworth took +hold of his arm and led him back to a chair. “Now, you tell us what +you're up to,” he demanded. In turn he grew indignant. “If you've got +something to manufacture you can get backing here as well as any place,” + he said. He became convinced that the jeweler's son was telling the +truth. It did not occur to him that a Bidwell young man would dare lie +to such solid men as John Clark and himself. “You let them city bankers +alone,” he said emphatically. “You tell us your story. What you got to +tell?” + +In the silent little room the three men stared at each other. Tom +Butterworth and John Clark in their turn began to have dreams. They +remembered the tales they had heard of vast fortunes made quickly by men +who owned new and valuable inventions. The land was at that time full of +such tales. They were blown about on every wind. Quickly they realized +that they had made a mistake in their attitude toward Steve, and were +anxious to win his regard. They had called him into the bank to bully +him and to laugh at him. Now they were sorry. As for Steve, he only +wanted to get away--to get by himself and think. An injured look crept +over his face. “Well,” he said, “I thought I'd give Bidwell a chance. +There are three or four men here. I have spoken to all of you and +dropped a hint of something in the wind, but I'm not ready to be very +definite yet.” + +Seeing the new look of respect in the eyes of the two men Steve +became bold. “I was going to call a meeting when I was ready,” he said +pompously. “You two do what I've been doing. You keep your mouths shut. +Don't go near that telegraph operator and don't talk to a soul. If you +mean business I'll give you a chance to make barrels of money, more'n +you ever dreamed of, but don't be in a hurry.” He took a bundle of +letters out of his inside coat pocket, and beat with them on the edge +of the table that occupied the center of the room. Another bold thought +came into his mind. + +“I've got letters here offering me big money to take my factory either +to Cleveland or Buffalo,” he declared emphatically. “It isn't money +that's hard to get. I can tell you men that. What a man wants in his +home town is respect. He don't want to be looked on as a fool because he +tries to do something to rise in the world.” + + * * * * * + +Steve walked boldly out of the bank and into Main Street. When he had +got out of the presence of the two men he was frightened. “Well, I've +done it. I've made a fool of myself,” he muttered aloud. In the bank he +had said that Hugh McVey the telegraph operator was his man, that he had +brought the fellow to Bidwell. What a fool he had been. In his anxiety +to impress the two older men he had told a story, the falsehood of which +could be discovered in a few minutes. Why had he not kept his dignity +and waited? There had been no occasion for being so definite. He had +gone too far, had been carried away. To be sure he had told the two men +not to go near the telegraph operator, but that would no doubt but serve +to arouse their suspicions of the thinness of his story. They would talk +the matter over and start an investigation of their own. Then they would +find out he had lied. He imagined the two men as already engaged in a +whispered conversation regarding the probability of his tale. Like most +shrewd men he had an exalted notion regarding the shrewdness of others. +He walked a little away from the bank and then turned to look back. A +shiver ran over his body. Into his mind came the sickening fear that the +telegraph operator at Pickleville was not an inventor at all. The town +was full of tales, and in the bank he had taken advantage of that fact +to make an impression; but what proof had he? No one had seen one of the +inventions supposed to have been worked out by the mysterious +stranger from Missouri. There had after all been nothing but whispered +suspicions, old wives' tales, fables invented by men who had nothing to +do but loaf in the drug-store and make up stories. + +The thought that Hugh McVey might not be an inventor overpowered him and +he put it quickly aside. He had something more immediate to think about. +The story of the bluff he had just made in the bank would be found out +and the whole town would rock with laughter at his expense. The young +men of the town did not like him. They would roll the story over on +their tongues. Ribald old fellows who had nothing else to do would take +up the story with joy and would elaborate it. Fellows like the cabbage +farmer, Ezra French, who had a talent for saying cutting things would +exercise it. They would make up imaginary inventions, grotesque, absurd +inventions. Then they would get young fellows to come to him and propose +that he take them up, promote them, and make every one rich. Men would +shout jokes at him as he went along Main Street. His dignity would be +gone forever. He would be made a fool of by the very school boys as +he had been in his youth when he bought the bicycle and rode it about +before the eyes of other boys in the evenings. + +Steve hurried out of Main Street and went over the bridge that crossed +the river into Turner's Pike. He did not know what he intended to do, +but felt there was much at stake and that he would have to do something +at once. It was a warm, cloudy day and the road that led to Pickleville +was muddy. During the night before it had rained and more rain was +promised. The path beside the road was slippery, and so absorbed was he +that as he plunged along, his feet slipped out from under him and he +sat down in a small pool of water. A farmer driving past along the road +turned to laugh at him. “You go to hell,” Steve shouted. “You just mind +your own business and go to hell.” + +The distracted young man tried to walk sedately along the path. The long +grass that grew beside the path wet his shoes, and his hands were wet +and muddy. Farmers turned on their wagon seats to stare at him. For some +obscure reason he could not himself understand, he was terribly afraid +to face Hugh McVey. In the bank he had been in the presence of men who +were trying to get the best of him, to make a fool of him, to have fun +at his expense. He had felt that and had resented it. The knowledge had +given him a certain kind of boldness; it had enabled his mind to make up +the story of the inventor secretly employed at his own expense and the +city bankers anxious to furnish him capital. Although he was terribly +afraid of discovery, he felt a little glow of pride at the thought of +the boldness with which he had taken the letters out of his pocket and +had challenged the two men to call his bluff. + +Steve, however, felt there was something different about the man in +the telegraph office in Pickleville. He had been in town for nearly +two years and no one knew anything about him. His silence might be +indicative of anything. He was afraid the tall silent Missourian might +decide to have nothing to do with him, and pictured himself as being +brushed rudely aside, being told to mind his own business. + +Steve knew instinctively how to handle business men. One simply created +the notion of money to be made without effort. He had done that to the +two men in the bank and it had worked. After all he had succeeded in +making them respect him. He had handled the situation. He wasn't such +a fool at that kind of a thing. The other thing he had to face might be +very different. Perhaps after all Hugh McVey was a big inventor, a +man with a powerful creative mind. It was possible he had been sent +to Bidwell by a big business man of some city. Big business men did +strange, mysterious things; they put wires out in all directions, +controlled a thousand little avenues for the creation of wealth. + +Just starting out on his own career as a man of affairs, Steve had an +overpowering respect for what he thought of as the subtlety of men of +affairs. With all the other American youths of his generation he had +been swept off his feet by the propaganda that then went on and is +still going on, and that is meant to create the illusion of greatness +in connection with the ownership of money. He did not then know and, in +spite of his own later success and his own later use of the machinery +by which illusion is created, he never found out that in an industrial +world reputations for greatness of mind are made as a Detroit +manufacturer would make automobiles. He did not know that men are +employed to bring up the name of a politician so that he may be called +a statesman, as a new brand of breakfast food that it may be sold; that +most modern great men are mere illusions sprung out of a national hunger +for greatness. Some day a wise man, one who has not read too many books +but who has gone about among men, will discover and set forth a very +interesting thing about America. The land is vast and there is a +national hunger for vastness in individuals. One wants an Illinois-sized +man for Illinois, an Ohio-sized man for Ohio, and a Texas-sized man for +Texas. + +To be sure, Steve Hunter had no notion of all this. He never did get a +notion of it. The men he had already begun to think of as great and to +try to imitate were like the strange and gigantic protuberances that +sometimes grow on the side of unhealthy trees, but he did not know it. +He did not know that throughout the country, even in that early day, a +system was being built up to create the myth of greatness. At the seat +of the American Government at Washington, hordes of somewhat clever +and altogether unhealthy young men were already being employed for the +purpose. In a sweeter age many of these young men might have become +artists, but they had not been strong enough to stand against the +growing strength of dollars. They had become instead newspaper +correspondents and secretaries to politicians. All day and every day +they used their minds and their talents as writers in the making of +puffs and the creating of myths concerning the men by whom they were +employed. They were like the trained sheep that are used at great +slaughter-houses to lead other sheep into the killing pens. Having +befouled their own minds for hire, they made their living by befouling +the minds of others. Already they had found out that no great cleverness +was required for the work they had to do. What was required was constant +repetition. It was only necessary to say over and over that the man +by whom they were employed was a great man. No proof had to be brought +forward to substantiate the claims they made; no great deeds had to +be done by the men who were thus made great, as brands of crackers or +breakfast food are made salable. Stupid and prolonged and insistent +repetition was what was necessary. + +As the politicians of the industrial age have created a myth about +themselves, so also have the owners of dollars, the big bankers, the +railroad manipulators, the promoters of industrial enterprise. The +impulse to do so is partly sprung from shrewdness but for the most part +it is due to a hunger within to be of some real moment in the world. +Knowing that the talent that had made them rich is but a secondary +talent, and being a little worried about the matter, they employ men to +glorify it. Having employed a man for the purpose, they are themselves +children enough to believe the myth they have paid money to have +created. Every rich man in the country unconsciously hates his press +agent. + +Although he had never read a book, Steve was a constant reader of the +newspapers and had been deeply impressed by the stories he had read +regarding the shrewdness and ability of the American captains of +industry. To him they were supermen and he would have crawled on his +knees before a Gould or a Cal Price--the commanding figures among +moneyed men of that day. As he went down along Turner's Pike that day +when industry was born in Bidwell, he thought of these men and of lesser +rich men of Cleveland and Buffalo, and was afraid that in approaching +Hugh he might be coming into competition with one of these men. As he +hurried along under the gray sky, he however realized that the time +for action had come and that he must at once put the plans that he had +formed in his mind to the test of practicability; that he must at once +see Hugh McVey, find out if he really did have an invention that could +be manufactured, and if he did try to secure some kind of rights of +ownership over it. “If I do not act at once, either Tom Butterworth or +John Clark will get in ahead of me,” he thought. He knew they were both +shrewd capable men. Had they not become well-to-do? Even during the talk +in the bank, when they had seemed to be impressed by his words, they +might well have been making plans to get the better of him. They would +act, but he must act first. + +Steve hadn't the courage of the lie he had told. He did not have +imagination enough to understand how powerful a thing is a lie. +He walked quickly along until he came to the Wheeling Station at +Pickleville, and then, not having the courage to confront Hugh at once, +went past the station and crept in behind the deserted pickle factory +that stood across the tracks. Through a broken window at the back he +climbed, and crept like a thief across the earth floor until he came +to a window that looked out upon the station. A freight train rumbled +slowly past and a farmer came to the station to get a load of goods +that had arrived by freight. George Pike came running from his house to +attend to the wants of the farmer. He went back to his house and Steve +was left alone in the presence of the man on whom he felt all of his +future depended. He was as excited as a village girl in the presence of +a lover. Through the windows of the telegraph office he could see +Hugh seated at a desk with a book before him. The presence of the book +frightened him. He decided that the mysterious Missourian must be some +strange sort of intellectual giant. He was sure that one who could sit +quietly reading hour after hour in such a lonely isolated place could +be of no ordinary clay. As he stood in the deep shadows inside the +old building and stared at the man he was trying to find courage to +approach, a citizen of Bidwell named Dick Spearsman came to the station +and going inside, talked to the telegraph operator. Steve trembled with +anxiety. The man who had come to the station was an insurance agent who +also owned a small berry farm at the edge of town. He had a son who had +gone west to take up land in the state of Kansas, and the father thought +of visiting him. He came to the station to make inquiry regarding the +railroad fare, but when Steve saw him talking to Hugh, the thought came +into his mind that John Clark or Thomas Butterworth might have sent him +to the station to make an investigation of the truth of the statements +he had made in the bank. “It would be like them to do it that way,” he +muttered to himself. “They wouldn't come themselves. They would send +some one they thought I wouldn't suspect. They would play safe, damn +'em.” + +Trembling with fear, Steve walked up and down in the empty factory. +Cobwebs hanging down brushed against his face and he jumped aside as +though a hand had reached out of the darkness to touch him. In the +corners of the old building shadows lurked and distorted thoughts +began to come into his head. He rolled and lighted a cigarette and then +remembered that the flare of the match could probably be seen from the +station. He cursed himself for his carelessness. Throwing the cigarette +on the earth floor he ground it under his heel. When at last Dick +Spearsman had disappeared up the road that led to Bidwell and he came +out of the old factory and got again into Turner's Pike, he felt that he +was in no shape to talk of business but nevertheless must act at once. +In front of the factory he stopped in the road and tried to wipe the mud +off the seat of his trousers with a handkerchief. Then he went to the +creek and washed his soiled hands. With wet hands he arranged his tie +and straightened the collar of his coat. He had an air of one about +to ask a woman to become his wife. Striving to look as important and +dignified as possible, he went along the station platform and into the +telegraph office to confront Hugh and to find out at once and finally +what fate the gods had in store for him. + + * * * * * + +It no doubt contributed to Steve's happiness in after life, in the +days when he was growing rich, and later when he reached out for public +honors, contributed to campaign funds, and even in secret dreamed of +getting into the United States Senate or being Governor of his state, +that he never knew how badly he overreached himself that day in his +youth when he made his first business deal with Hugh at the Wheeling +Station at Pickleville. Later Hugh's interest in the Steven Hunter +industrial enterprises was taken care of by a man who was as shrewd as +Steve himself. Tom Butterworth, who had made money and knew how to make +and handle money, managed such things for the inventor, and Steve's +chance was gone forever. + +That is, however, a part of the story of the development of the town +of Bidwell and a story that Steve never understood. When he overreached +himself that day he did not know what he had done. He made a deal with +Hugh and was happy to escape the predicament he thought he had got +himself into when he talked too much to the two men in the bank. + +Although Steve's father had always a great faith in his son's shrewdness +and when he talked to other men represented him as a peculiarly capable +and unappreciated man, the two did not in private get on well. In the +Hunter household they quarreled and snarled at each other. Steve's +mother had died when he was a small boy and his one sister, two years +older than himself, kept herself always in the house and seldom appeared +on the streets. She was a semi-invalid. Some obscure nervous disease had +twisted her body out of shape, and her face twitched incessantly. +One morning in the barn back of the Hunter house Steve, then a lad of +fourteen, was oiling his bicycle when his sister appeared and stood +watching him. A small wrench lay on the ground and she picked it up. +Suddenly and without warning she began to beat him on the head. He was +compelled to knock her down in order to tear the wrench out of her hand. +After the incident she was ill in bed for a month. + +Elsie Hunter was always a source of unhappiness to her brother. As he +began to get up in life Steve had a growing passion for being respected +by his fellows. It got to be something of an obsession with him and +among other things he wanted very much to be thought of as one who had +good blood in his veins. A man whom he hired searched out his +ancestry, and with the exception of his immediate family it seemed +very satisfactory. The sister, with her twisted body and her face that +twitched so persistently, seemed to be everlastingly sneering at him. He +grew half afraid to come into her presence. After he began to grow rich +he married Ernestine, the daughter of the soap maker at Buffalo, and +when her father died she also had a great deal of money. His own father +died and he set up a household of his own. That was in the time when big +houses began to appear at the edge of the berry lands and on the hills +south of Bidwell. On his father's death Steve became guardian for his +sister. The jeweler had left a small estate and it was entirely in the +son's hands. Elsie lived with one servant in a small house in town and +was put in the position of being entirely dependent on her brother's +bounty. In a sense it might be said that she lived by her hatred of him. +When on rare occasions he came to her house she would not see him. A +servant came to the door and reported her asleep. Almost every month she +wrote a letter demanding that her share of her father's money be +handed over to her, but it did no good. Steve occasionally spoke to an +acquaintance of his difficulty with her. “I am more sorry for the woman +than I can say,” he declared. “It's the dream of my life to make the +poor afflicted soul happy. You see yourself that I provide her with +every comfort of life. Ours is an old family. I have it from an expert +in such matters that we are descendants of one Hunter, a courtier in the +court of Edward the Second of England. Our blood has perhaps become +a little thin. All the vitality of the family was centered in me. +My sister does not understand me and that has been the cause of much +unhappiness and heart burning, but I shall always do my duty by her.” + +In the late afternoon of the spring day that was also the most eventful +day of his life, Steve went quickly along the Wheeling Station platform +to the door of the telegraph office. It was a public place, but before +going in he stopped, again straightened his tie and brushed his clothes, +and then knocked at the door. As there was no response he opened the +door softly and looked in. Hugh was at his desk but did not look up. +Steve went in and closed the door. By chance the moment of his entrance +was also a big moment in the life of the man he had come to see. +The mind of the young inventor, that had for so long been dreamy and +uncertain, had suddenly become extraordinarily clear and free. One of +the inspired moments that come to intense natures, working intensely, +had come to him. The mechanical problem he was trying so hard to work +out became clear. It was one of the moments that Hugh afterwards thought +of as justifying his existence, and in later life he came to live for +such moments. With a nod of his head to Steve he arose and hurried out +to the building that was used by the Wheeling as a freight warehouse. +The jeweler's son ran at his heels. On an elevated platform before the +freight warehouse sat an odd looking agricultural implement, a machine +for rooting potatoes out of the ground that had been received on the day +before and was now awaiting delivery to some farmer. Hugh dropped to his +knees beside the machine and examined it closely. Muttered exclamations +broke from his lips. For the first time in his life he was not +embarrassed in the presence of another person. The two men, the one +almost grotesquely tall, the other short of stature and already inclined +toward corpulency, stared at each other. “What is it you're inventing? I +came to see you about that,” Steve said timidly. + +Hugh did not answer the question directly. He stepped across the narrow +platform to the freight warehouse and began to make a rude drawing on +the side of the building. Then he tried to explain his plant-setting +machine. He spoke of it as a thing already achieved. At the moment he +thought of it in that way. “I had not thought of the use of a +large wheel with the arms attached at regular intervals,” he said +absent-mindedly. “I will have to find money now. That'll be the next +step. It will be necessary to make a working model of the machine now. I +must find out what changes I'll have to make in my calculations.” + +The two men returned to the telegraph office and while Hugh listened +Steve made his proposal. Even then he did not understand what the +machine that was to be made was to do. It was enough for him that a +machine was to be made and he wanted to share in its ownership at once. +As the two men walked back from the freight warehouse, his mind took +hold of Hugh's remark about getting money. Again he was afraid. “There's +some one in the background,” he thought. “Now I must make a proposal he +can't refuse. I mustn't leave until I've made a deal with him.” + +Fairly carried away by his anxiety, Steve proposed to provide money out +of his own pocket to make the model of the machine. “We'll rent the old +pickle factory across the track,” he said, opening the door and pointing +with a trembling finger. “I can get it cheap. I'll have windows and +a floor put in. Then I'll get you a man to whittle out a model of the +machine. Allie Mulberry can do it. I'll get him for you. He can whittle +anything if you only show him what you want. He's half crazy and won't +get on to our secret. When the model is made, leave it to me, you just +leave it to me.” + +Rubbing his hands together Steve walked boldly to The telegrapher's +desk and picking up a sheet of paper began to write out a contract. It +provided that Hugh Was to get a royalty of ten per cent. of the selling +price on the machine he had invented and that was to be manufactured +by a company to be organized by Steven Hunter. The contract also stated +that a promoting company was to be organized at once and money provided +for the experimental work Hugh had yet to do. The Missourian was +to begin getting a salary at once. He was to risk nothing, as Steve +elaborately explained. When he was ready for them mechanics were to be +employed and their salaries paid. When the contract had been written and +read aloud, a copy was made and Hugh, who was again embarrassed beyond +words, signed his name. + +With a flourish of his hand Steve laid a little pile of money on the +desk. “That's for a starter,” he said and turned to frown at George Pike +who at that moment came to the door. The freight agent went quickly away +and the two men were left alone together. Steve shook hands with his new +partner. He went out and then came in again. “You understand,” he said +mysteriously. “The fifty dollars is your first month's salary. I was +ready for you. I brought it along. You just leave everything to me, just +you leave it to me.” Again he went out and Hugh was left alone. He saw +the young man go across the tracks to the old factory and walk up and +down before it. When a farmer came along and shouted at him, he did not +reply, but stepping back into the road swept the deserted old building +with his eyes as a general might have looked over a battlefield. Then +he went briskly down the road toward town and the farmer turned on his +wagon seat to stare after him. + +Hugh McVey also stared. When Steve had gone away, he walked to the end +of the station platform and looked along the road toward town. It seemed +to him wonderful that he had at last held conversation with a citizen +of Bidwell. A little of the import of the contract he had signed came to +him, and he went into the station and got his copy of it and put it in +his pocket. Then he came out again. When he read it over and realized +anew that he was to be paid a living wage and have time and help to work +out the problem that had now become vastly important to his happiness, +it seemed to him that he had been in the presence of a kind of god. +He remembered the words of Sarah Shepard concerning the bright alert +citizens of eastern towns and realized that he had been in the presence +of such a being, that he had in some way become connected in his +new work with such a one. The realization overcame him completely. +Forgetting entirely his duties as a telegrapher, he closed the office +and went for a walk across the meadows and in the little patches of +woodlands that still remained standing in the open plain north of +Pickleville. He did not return until late at night, and when he did, had +not solved the puzzle as to what had happened. All he got out of it was +the fact that the machine he had been trying to make was of great and +mysterious importance to the civilization into which he had come to +live and of which he wanted so keenly to be a part. There seemed to him +something almost sacred in that fact. A new determination to complete +and perfect his plant-setting machine had taken possession of him. + + * * * * * + +The meeting to organize a promotion company that would in turn launch +the first industrial enterprise in the town of Bidwell was held in the +back room of the Bidwell bank one afternoon in June. The berry season +had just come to an end and the streets were full of people. A circus +had come to town and at one o'clock there was a parade. Before the +stores horses belonging to visiting country people stood hitched in two +long rows. The meeting in the bank was not held until four o'clock, +when the banking business was at an end for the day. It had been a hot, +stuffy afternoon and a storm threatened. For some reason the whole town +had an inkling of the fact that a meeting was to be held on that day, +and in spite of the excitement caused by the coming of the circus, it +was in everybody's mind. From the very beginning of his upward journey +in life, Steve Hunter had the faculty of throwing an air of mystery and +importance about everything he did. Every one saw the workings of the +machinery by which the myth concerning himself was created, but was +nevertheless impressed. Even the men of Bidwell who retained the ability +to laugh at Steve could not laugh at the things he did. + +For two months before the day on which the meeting was held, the town +had been on edge. Every one knew that Hugh McVey had suddenly given +up his place in the telegraph office and that he was engaged in some +enterprise with Steve Hunter. “Well, I see he has thrown off the mask, +that fellow,” said Alban Foster, superintendent of the Bidwell schools, +in speaking of the matter to the Reverend Harvey Oxford, the minister of +the Baptist Church. + +Steve saw to it that although every one was curious the curiosity was +unsatisfied. Even his father was left in the dark. The two men had a +sharp quarrel about the matter, but as Steve had three thousand dollars +of his own, left him by his mother, and was well past his twenty-first +year, there was nothing his father could do. + +At Pickleville the windows and doors at the back of the deserted factory +were bricked up, and over the windows and the door at the front, where a +floor had been laid, iron bars specially made by Lew Twining the Bidwell +blacksmith had been put. The bars over the door locked the place at +night and gave the factory the air of a prison. Every evening before he +went to bed Steve walked to Pickleville. The sinister appearance of the +building at night gave him a peculiar satisfaction. “They'll find out +what I'm up to when I want 'em to,” he said to himself. Allie Mulberry +worked at the factory during the day. Under Hugh's direction he whittled +pieces of wood into various shapes, but had no idea of what he was +doing. No one but the half-wit and Steve Hunter were admitted to the +society of the telegraph operator. When Allie Mulberry came into the +Main Street at night, every one stopped him and a thousand questions +were asked, but he only shook his head and smiled foolishly. On +Sunday afternoons crowds of men and women walked down Turner's Pike to +Pickleville and stood looking at the deserted building, but no one tried +to enter. The bars were in place and window shades were drawn over the +windows. Above the door that faced the road there was a large sign. +“Keep Out. This Means You,” the sign said. + +The four men who met Steve in the bank knew vaguely that some sort of +invention was being perfected, but did not know what it was. They spoke +in an offhand way of the matter to their friends and that increased the +general curiosity. Every one tried to guess what was up. When Steve was +not about, John Clark and young Gordon Hart pretended to know everything +but gave the impression of men sworn to secrecy. The fact that Steve +told them nothing seemed to them a kind of insult. “The young upstart, +I believe yet he's a bluff,” the banker declared to his friend, Tom +Butterworth. + +On Main Street the old and young men who stood about before the stores +in the evening tried also to make light of the jeweler's son and the air +of importance he constantly assumed. They also spoke of him as a young +upstart and a windbag, but after the beginning of his connection with +Hugh McVey, something of conviction went out of their voices. “I read +in the paper that a man in Toledo made thirty thousand dollars out of an +invention. He got it up in less than a day. He just thought of it. It's +a new kind of way for sealing fruit cans,” a man in the crowd before +Birdie Spink's drug store absent-mindedly observed. + +Inside the drug store by the empty stove, Judge Hanby talked +persistently of the time when factories would come. He seemed to those +who listened a sort of John the Baptist crying out of the coming of +the new day. One evening in May of that year, when a goodly crowd was +assembled, Steve Hunter came in and bought a cigar. Every one became +silent. Birdie Spinks was for some mysterious reason a little upset. +In the store something happened that, had there been some one there to +record it, might later have been remembered as the moment that marked +the coming of the new age to Bidwell. The druggist, after he had handed +out the cigar, looked at the young man whose name had so suddenly come +upon every one's lips and whom he had known from babyhood, and then +addressed him as no young man of his age had ever before been addressed +by an older citizen of the town. “Well, good evening, Mr. Hunter,” he +said respectfully. “And how do you find yourself this evening?” + +To the men who met him in the bank, Steve described the plant-setting +machine and the work it was intended to do. “It's the most perfect thing +of its kind I've ever seen,” he said with the air of one who has spent +his life as an expert examiner of machinery. Then, to the amazement of +every one, he produced sheets covered with figures estimating the cost +of manufacturing the machine. To the men present it seemed as though +the question as to the practicability of the machine had already been +settled. The sheets covered with figures made the actual beginning of +manufacturing seem near at hand. Without raising his voice and quite as +a matter of course, Steve proposed that the men present subscribe each +three thousand dollars to the stock of a promotion company, the money +to be used to perfect the machine and put it actually to work in the +fields, while a larger company for the building of a factory was being +organized. For the three thousand dollars each of the men would receive +later six thousand dollars in stock in the larger company. They would +make one hundred per cent. on their first investment. As for himself he +owned the invention and it was very valuable. He had already received +many offers from other men in other places. He wanted to stick to his +own town and to the men who had known him since he was a boy. He would +retain a controlling interest in the larger company and that would +enable him to take care of his friends. John Clark he proposed to make +treasurer of the promotion company. Every one could see he would be the +right man. Gordon Hart should be manager. Tom Butterworth could, if he +could find time to give it, help him in the actual organization of the +larger company. He did not propose to do anything in a small way. Much +stock would have to be sold to farmers, as well as to townspeople, and +he could see no reason why a certain commission for the selling of stock +should not be paid. + +The four men came out of the back room of the bank just as the storm +that had all day been threatening broke on Main Street. They stood +together by the front window and watched the people skurry along past +the stores homeward-bound from the circus. Farmers jumping into their +wagons started their horses away on the trot. The whole street was +populous with people shouting and running. To an observing person +standing at the bank window, Bidwell, Ohio, might have seemed no longer +a quiet town filled with people who lived quiet lives and thought quiet +thoughts, but a tiny section of some giant modern city. The sky was +extraordinarily black as from the smoke of a mill. The hurrying people +might have been workmen escaping from the mill at the end of the day. +Clouds of dust swept through the street. Steve Hunter's imagination was +aroused. For some reason the black clouds of dust and the running people +gave him a tremendous sense of power. It almost seemed to him that he +had filled the sky with clouds and that something latent in him had +startled the people. He was anxious to get away from the men who had +just agreed to join him in his first great industrial adventure. He felt +that they were after all mere puppets, creatures he could use, men who +were being swept along by him as the people running along the streets +were being swept along by the storm. He and the storm were in a way akin +to each other. He had an impulse to be alone with the storm, to walk +dignified and upright in the face of it as he felt that in the future he +would walk dignified and upright in the face of men. + +Steve went out of the bank and into the street. The men inside shouted +at him, telling him he would get wet, but he paid no attention to their +warning. When he had gone and when his father had run quickly across +the street to his jewelry store, the three men who were left in the +bank looked at each other and laughed. Like the loiterers before Birdie +Spinks' drug-store, they wanted to belittle him and had an inclination +to begin calling him names; but for some reason they could not do +it. Something had happened to them. They looked at each other with a +question in their eyes. Each man waited for the others to speak. “Well, +whatever happens we can't lose much of anything,” John Clark finally +observed. + +And over the bridge and out into Turner's Pike walked Steve Hunter, the +embryo industrial magnate. Across the great stretches of fields that +lay beside the road the wind ran furiously, tearing leaves off trees, +carrying great volumes of dust before it. The hurrying black clouds +in the sky were, he fancied, like clouds of smoke pouring out of the +chimneys of factories owned by himself. In fancy also he saw his town +become a city, bathed in the smoke of his enterprises. As he looked +abroad over the fields swept by the storm of wind, he realized that the +road along which he walked would in time become a city street. “Pretty +soon I'll get an option on this land,” he said meditatively. An exalted +mood took possession of him and when he got to Pickleville he did not go +into the shop where Hugh and Allie Mulberry were at work, but turning, +walked back toward town in the mud and the driving rain. + +It was a time when Steve wanted to be by himself, to feel himself the +one great man of the community. He had intended to go into the old +pickle factory and escape the rain, but when he got to the railroad +tracks, had turned back because he realized suddenly that in the +presence of the silent, intent inventor he had never been able to feel +big. He wanted to feel big on that evening and so, unmindful of the rain +and of his hat, that was caught up by the wind and blown away into a +field, he went along the deserted road thinking great thoughts. At a +place where there were no houses he stopped for a moment and lifted +his tiny hands to the skies. “I'm a man. I tell you what, I'm a man. +Whatever any one says, I tell you what, I'm a man,” he shouted into the +void. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Modern men and women who live in industrial cities are like mice that +have come out of the fields to live in houses that do not belong to +them. They live within the dark walls of the houses where only a dim +light penetrates, and so many have come that they grow thin and haggard +with the constant toil of getting food and warmth. Behind the walls +the mice scamper about in droves, and there is much squealing and +chattering. Now and then a bold mouse stands upon his hind legs and +addresses the others. He declares he will force his way through the +walls and conquer the gods who have built the house. “I will kill them,” + he declares. “The mice shall rule. You shall live in the light and the +warmth. There shall be food for all and no one shall go hungry.” + +The little mice, gathered in the darkness out of sight in the great +houses, squeal with delight. After a time when nothing happens they +become sad and depressed. Their minds go back to the time when they +lived in the fields, but they do not go out of the walls of the houses, +because long living in droves has made them afraid of the silence of +long nights and the emptiness of skies. In the houses giant children are +being reared. When the children fight and scream in the houses and in +the streets, the dark spaces between the walls rumble with strange and +appalling noises. + +The mice are terribly afraid. Now and then a single mouse for a moment +escapes the general fear. A mood comes over such a one and a light +comes into his eyes. When the noises run through the houses he makes up +stories about them. “The horses of the sun are hauling wagon loads of +days over the tops of trees,” he says and looks quickly about to see if +he has been heard. When he discovers a female mouse looking at him he +runs away with a flip of his tail and the female follows. While other +mice are repeating his saying and getting some little comfort from it, +he and the female mouse find a warm dark corner and lie close together. +It is because of them that mice continue to be born to dwell within the +walls of the houses. + +When the first small model of Hugh McVey's plant-setting machine had +been whittled out by the half-wit Allie Mulberry, it replaced the famous +ship, floating in the bottle, that for two or three years had been lying +in the window of Hunter's jewelry store. Allie was inordinately proud of +the new specimen of his handiwork. As he worked under Hugh's directions +at a bench in a corner of the deserted pickle factory, he was like a +strange dog that has at last found a master. He paid no attention +to Steve Hunter who, with the air of one bearing in his breast some +gigantic secret, came in and went out at the door twenty times a day, +but kept his eyes on the silent Hugh who sat at a desk and made drawings +on sheets of paper. Allie tried valiantly to follow the instructions +given him and to understand what his master was trying to do, and Hugh, +finding himself unembarrassed by the presence of the half-wit, sometimes +spent hours trying to explain the workings of some intricate part of +the proposed machine. Hugh made each part crudely out of great pieces of +board and Allie reproduced the part in miniature. Intelligence began to +come into the eyes of the man who all his life had whittled meaningless +wooden chains, baskets formed out of peach stones, and ships intended +to float in bottles. Love and understanding began a little to do for him +what words could not have done. One day when a part Hugh had fashioned +would not work the half-wit himself made the model of a part that worked +perfectly. When Hugh incorporated it in the machine, he was so happy +that he could not sit still, and walked up and down cooing with delight. + +When the model of the machine appeared in the jeweler's window, a fever +of excitement took hold of the minds of the people. Every one declared +himself either for or against it. Something like a revolution took +place. Parties were formed. Men who had no interest in the success of +the invention, and in the nature of things could not have, were ready +to fight any one who dared to doubt its success. Among the farmers who +drove into town to see the new wonder were many who said the machine +would not, could not, work. “It isn't practical,” they said. Going off +by themselves and forming groups, they whispered warnings. A hundred +objections sprang to their lips. “See all the little wheels and cogs the +thing has,” they said. “You see it won't work. You take now in a field +where there are stones and old tree roots, maybe, sticking in the +ground. There you'll see. Fools'll buy the machine, yes. They'll spend +their money. They'll put in plants. The plants'll die. The money'll be +wasted. There'll be no crop.” Old men, who had been cabbage farmers in +the country north of Bidwell all their lives, and whose bodies were all +twisted out of shape by the terrible labor of the cabbage fields, +came hobbling into town to look at the model of the new machine. Their +opinions were anxiously sought by the merchant, the carpenter, the +artisan, the doctor--by all the townspeople. Almost without exception, +they shook their heads in doubt. Standing on the sidewalk before the +jeweler's window, they stared at the machine and then, turning to the +crowd that had gathered about, they shook their heads in doubt. “Huh,” + they exclaimed, “a thing of wheels and cogs, eh? Well, so young Hunter +expects that thing to take the place of a man. He's a fool. I always +said that boy was a fool.” The merchants and townspeople, their ardor +a little dampened by the adverse decision of the men who knew +plant-setting, went off by themselves. They went into Birdie Spinks' +drugstore, but did not listen to the talk of Judge Hanby. “If the +machine works, the town'll wake up,” some one declared. “It means +factories, new people coming in, houses to be built, goods to be +bought.” Visions of suddenly acquired wealth began to float in their +minds. Young Ed Hall, apprentice to Ben Peeler the carpenter, grew +angry. “Hell,” he exclaimed, “why listen to a lot of damned old calamity +howlers? It's the town's duty to get out and plug for that machine. We +got to wake up here. We got to forget what we used to think about Steve +Hunter. Anyway, he saw a chance, didn't he? and he took it. I wish I was +him. I only wish I was him. And what about that fellow we thought was +maybe just a telegraph operator? He fooled us all slick, now didn't he? +I tell you we ought to be proud to have such men as him and Steve Hunter +living in Bidwell. That's what I say. I tell you it's the town's duty +to get out and plug for them and for that machine. If we don't, I know +what'll happen. Steve Hunter's a live one. I been thinking maybe he was. +He'll take that invention and that inventor of his to some other town or +to a city. That's what he'll do. Damn it, I tell you we got to get out +and back them fellows up. That's what I say.” + +On the whole the town of Bidwell agreed with young Hall. The excitement +did not die, but grew every day more intense. Steve Hunter had a +carpenter come to his father's store and build in the show window facing +Main Street, a long shallow box formed in the shape of a field. This he +filled with pulverized earth and then by an arrangement of strings and +pulleys connected with a clockwork device the machine was pulled across +the field. In a receptacle at the top of the machine had been placed +some dozens of tiny plants no larger than pins. When the clockwork +was started and the strings pulled to imitate applied horse power, the +machine crept slowly forward, an arm came down and made a hole in the +ground, the plant dropped into the hole and spoon-like hands appeared +and packed the earth about the plant roots. At the top of the machine +there was a tank filled with water, and when the plant was set, a +portion of water, nicely calculated as to quantity, ran down a pipe and +was deposited at the plant roots. + +Evening after evening the machine crawled forward across the tiny field, +setting the plants in perfect order. Steve Hunter busied himself with +it; he did nothing else; and rumors of a great company to be formed in +Bidwell to manufacture the device were whispered about. Every evening +a new tale was told. Steve went to Cleveland for a day and it was said +that Bidwell was to lose its chance, that big moneyed men had induced +Steve to take his factory project to the city. Hearing Ed Hall berate +a farmer who doubted the practicability of the machine, Steve took him +aside and talked to him. “We're going to need live young men who know +how to handle other men for jobs as superintendent and things like +that,” he said. “I make no promises. I only want to tell you that I like +live young fellows who can see the hole in a bushel basket. I like that +kind. I like to see them get up in the world.” + +Steve heard the farmers continually expressing their skepticism about +making the plants that had been set by the machine grow into maturity, +and had the carpenter build another tiny field in a side window of the +store. He had the machine moved and plants set in the new field. He +let these grow. When some of the plants showed signs of dying he came +secretly at night and replaced them with sturdier shoots so that the +miniature field showed always a brave, vigorous front to the world. + +Bidwell became convinced that the most rigorous of all forms of human +labor practiced by its people was at an end. Steve made and had hung in +the store window a large sheet showing the relative cost of planting an +acre of cabbage with the machine, and by what was already called “the +old way,” by hand. Then he formally announced that a stock company would +be formed in Bidwell and that every one would have a chance to get into +it. He printed an article in the weekly paper in which he said that many +offers had come to him to take his project to the city or to other and +larger towns. “Mr. McVey, the celebrated inventor, and I both want to +stick to our own people,” he said, regardless of the fact that Hugh knew +nothing of the article and had never been taken into the lives of the +people addressed. A day was set for the beginning of the taking of stock +subscriptions, and in private conversations Steve whispered of huge +profits to be made. The matter was talked over in every household and +plans were made for raising money to buy stock. John Clark agreed to +lend a certain percentage on the value of the town property and Steve +secured a long-time option on all the land facing Turner's Pike clear +down to Pickleville. When the town heard of this it was filled with +wonder. “Gee,” the loiterers before the store exclaimed, “old Bidwell +is going to grow up. Now look at that, will you? There are going to be +houses clear down to Pickleville.” Hugh went to Cleveland to see about +having one of his new machines made in steel and wood and in a size that +would permit its actual use in the field. He returned, a hero in the +town's eyes. His silence made it possible for the people, who could not +entirely forget their former lack of faith in Steve, to let their minds +take hold of something they thought was truly heroic. + +In the evening, after going again to see the machine in the window +of the jewelry store, crowds of young and old men wandered down along +Turner's Pike to the Wheeling Station where a new man had come to +replace Hugh. They hardly saw the evening train when it came in. Like +devotees before a shrine they gazed with something like worship in their +eyes at the old pickle factory, and when by chance Hugh came among them, +unconscious of the sensation he was creating, they became embarrassed +as he was always embarrassed by their presence. Every one dreamed of +becoming suddenly rich by the power of the man's mind. They thought of +him as thinking always great thoughts. To be sure, Steve Hunter might be +more than half bluff and blow and pretense, but there was no bluff and +blow about Hugh. He didn't waste his time in words. He thought, and out +of his thought sprang almost unbelievable wonders. + +In every part of the town of Bidwell, the new impulse toward progress +was felt. Old men, who had become settled in their ways and who had +begun to pass their days in a sort of sleepy submission to the idea of +the gradual passing away of their lives, awoke and went into Main Street +in the evening to argue with skeptical farmers. Beside Ed Hall, who had +become a Demosthenes on the subject of progress and the duty of the town +to awake and stick to Steve Hunter and the machine, a dozen other men +held forth on the street corners. Oratorical ability awoke in the most +unexpected places. Rumors flew from lip to lip. It was said that within +a year Bidwell was to have a brick factory covering acres of ground, +that there would be paved streets and electric lights. + +Oddly enough the most persistent decrier of the new spirit in Bidwell +was the man who, if the machine turned out to be a success, would profit +most from its use. Ezra French, the profane, refused to be convinced. +When pressed by Ed Hall, Dr. Robinson, and other enthusiasts, he fell +back upon the word of that God whose name had been so much upon his +lips. The decrier of God became the defender of God. “The thing, you +see, can't be done. It ain't all right. Something awful'll happen. The +rains won't come and the plants'll dry up and die. It'll be like it +was in Egypt in the Bible times,” he declared. The old farmer with the +twisted leg stood before the crowd in the drug-store and proclaimed the +truth of God's word. “Don't it say in the Bible men shall work and labor +by the sweat of their brows?” he asked sharply. “Can a machine like that +sweat? You know it can't. And it can't do the work either. No, siree. +Men've got to do it. That's the way things have been since Cain killed +Abel in the Garden of Eden. God intended it so and there can't no +telegraph operator or no smart young squirt like Steve Hunter--fellows +in a town like this--set themselves up before me to change the workings +of God's laws. It can't be done, and if it could be done it would be +wicked and ungodly to try. I'll have nothing to do with it. It ain't +right. That's what I say and all your smart talk ain't a-going to change +me.” + +It was in the year 1892 that Steve Hunter organized the first industrial +enterprise that came to Bidwell. It was called the Bidwell Plant-Setting +Machine Company, and in the end it turned out to be a failure. A large +factory was built on the river bank facing the New York Central tracks. +It is now occupied by an enterprise called the Hunter Bicycle Company +and is what in industrial parlance is called a live, going concern. + +For two years Hugh worked faithfully trying to perfect the first of his +inventions. After the working models of the plant-setter were brought +from Cleveland, two trained mechanics were employed to come to Bidwell +and work with him. In the old pickle factory an engine was installed +and lathes and other tool-making machines were set up. For a long time +Steve, John Clark, Tom Butterworth, and the other enthusiastic promoters +of the enterprise had no doubt as to the final outcome. Hugh wanted to +perfect the machine, had his heart set on doing the job he had set out +to do, but he had then and, for that matter, he continued during his +whole life to have but little conception of the import in the lives of +the people about him of the things he did. Day after day, with two +city mechanics and Allie Mulberry to drive the team of horses Steve had +provided, he went into a rented field north of the factory. Weak places +developed in the complicated mechanism, and new and stronger parts +were made. For a time the machine worked perfectly. Then other defects +appeared and other parts had to be strengthened and changed. The machine +became too heavy to be handled by one team. It would not work when the +soil was either too wet or too dry. It worked perfectly in both wet and +dry sand but would do nothing in clay. During the second year and +when the factory was nearing completion and much machinery had been +installed, Hugh went to Steve and told him of what he thought were the +limitations of the machine. He was depressed by his failure, but in +working with the machine, he felt he had succeeded in educating himself +as he never could have done by studying books. Steve decided that the +factory should be started and some of the machines made and sold. “You +keep the two men you have and don't talk,” he said. “The machine may yet +turn out to be better than you think. One can never tell. I have made it +worth their while to keep still.” On the afternoon of the day on which +he had his talk with Hugh, Steve called the four men who were associated +with him in the promotion of the enterprise into the back room of the +bank and told them of the situation. “We're up against something +here,” he said. “If we let word of the failure of this machine get out, +where'll we be? It is a case of the survival of the fittest.” + +Steve explained his plan to the men in the room. After all, he said, +there was no occasion for any of them to get excited. He had taken them +into the thing and he proposed to get them out. “I'm that kind of a +man,” he said pompously. In a way, he declared, he was glad things had +turned out as they had. The four men had little actual money invested. +They had all tried honestly to do something for the town and he would +see to it that everything came out all right. “We'll be honest with +every one,” he said. “The stock in the company has all been sold. We'll +make some of the machines and sell them. If they're failures, as this +inventor thinks, it will not be our fault. The plant, you see, will +have to be sold cheap. When that times comes we five will have to save +ourselves and the future of the town. The machinery we have bought, is, +you see, iron and wood working machinery, the very latest kind. It can +be used to make some other thing. If the plant-setting machine is a +failure we'll simply buy up the plant at a low price and make something +else. Perhaps it'll be better for the town to have the entire stock +control in our hands. You see we few men have got to run things here. +It's going to be on our shoulders to see that labor is employed. A lot +of small stock-holders are a nuisance. As man to man I'm going to ask +each of you not to sell his stock, but if any one comes to you and asks +about its value, I expect you to be loyal to our enterprise. I'll begin +looking about for something to replace the plant-setting machine, and +when the shop closes we'll start right up again. It isn't every day men +get a chance to sell themselves a fine plant full of new machinery as we +can do in a year or so now.” + +Steve went out of the bank and left the four men staring at each other. +Then his father got up and went out. The other men, all connected with +the bank, arose and wandered out. “Well,” said John Clark, somewhat +heavily, “he's a smart man. I suppose after all it is up to us to stick +with him and with the town. As he says, labor has got to be employed. I +can't see that it does a carpenter or a farmer any good to own a little +stock in a factory. It only takes their minds off their work. They have +foolish dreams of getting rich and don't attend to their own affairs. It +would be an actual benefit to the town if a few men owned the factory.” + The banker lighted a cigar and going to a window stared out into the +main street of Bidwell. Already the town had changed. Three new brick +buildings were being erected on Main Street within sight of the bank +window. Workmen employed in the building of the factory had come to town +to live, and many new houses were being built. Everywhere things were +astir. The stock of the company had been oversubscribed, and almost +every day men came into the bank and spoke of wanting to buy more. +Only the day before a farmer had come in with two thousand dollars. The +banker's mind began to secrete the poison of his age. “After all, it's +men like Steve Hunter, Tom Butterworth, Gordon Hart, and myself that +have to take care of things, and to be in shape to do it we have to look +out for ourselves,” he soliloquized. Again he stared into Main Street. +Tom Butterworth went out at the front door. He wanted to be by himself +and think his own thoughts. Gordon Hart returned to the empty back room +and standing by a window looked out into an alleyway. His thoughts ran +in the same channel as those that played through the mind of the bank +president. He also thought of men who wanted to buy stock in the company +that was doomed to failure. He began to doubt the judgment of Hugh McVey +in the matter of failure. “Such fellows are always pessimists,” he told +himself. From the window at the back of the bank, he could see over the +roofs of a row of small sheds and down a residence street to where two +new workingmen's houses were being built. His thoughts only differed +from the thoughts of John Clark because he was a younger man. “A few men +of the younger generation, like Steve and myself will have to take hold +of things,” he muttered aloud. “We'll have to have money to work with. +We'll have to take the responsibility of the ownership of money.” + +At the front of the bank John Clark puffed at his cigar. He felt like a +soldier weighing the chances of battle. Vaguely he thought of himself as +a general, a kind of U. S. Grant of industry. The lives and happiness +of many people, he told himself, depended on the clear working of his +brain. “Well,” he thought, “when factories start coming to a town and +it begins to grow as this town is growing no man can stop it. The +fellow who thinks of individual men, little fellows with their savings +invested, who may be hurt by an industrial failure, is just a weakling. +Men have to face the duties life brings. The few men who see clearly +have to think first of themselves. They have to save themselves in order +that they may save others.” + + * * * * * + +Things kept on the stir in Bidwell and the gods of chance played into +the hands of Steve Hunter. Hugh invented an apparatus for lifting a +loaded coal-car off the railroad tracks, carrying it high up into the +air and dumping its contents into a chute. By its use an entire car of +coal could be emptied with a roaring rush into the hold of a ship or the +engine room of a factory. A model of the new invention was made and +a patent secured. Then Steve Hunter carried it off to New York. He +received two hundred thousand dollars in cash for it, half of which went +to Hugh. Steve's faith in the inventive genius of the Missourian was +renewed and strengthened. He looked forward with a feeling almost +approaching pleasure to the time when the town would be forced to face +the fact that the plant-setting machine was a failure, and the factory +with its new machinery would have to be thrown on the market. He knew +that his associates in the promotion of the enterprise were secretly +selling their stock. One day he went to Cleveland and had a long talk +with a banker there. Hugh was at work on a corn-cutting machine and +already he had secured an option on it. “Perhaps when the time comes to +sell the factory there'll be more than one bidder,” he told Ernestine, +the soap maker's daughter, who had married him within a month after the +sale of the car-unloading device. He grew indignant when he told her +of the disloyalty of the two men in the bank, and the rich farmer, +Tom Butterworth. “They're selling their shares and letting the small +stock-holders lose their money,” he declared. “I told 'em not to do +it. Now if anything happens to spoil their plans they'll not have me to +blame.” + +Nearly a year had been spent in stirring up the people of Bidwell to the +point of becoming investors. Then things began to stir. The ground was +broken for the erection of the factory. No one knew of the difficulties +that had been encountered in attempting to perfect the machine and word +was passed about that in actual tests in the fields it had proven +itself entirely practical. The skeptical farmers who came into town on +Saturdays were laughed at by the town enthusiasts. A field, that had +been planted during one of the brief periods when the machine finding +ideal soil conditions had worked perfectly, was left to grow. As when he +operated the tiny model in the store window, Steve took no chances. He +engaged Ed Hall to go at night and replace the plants that did not live. +“It's fair enough,” he explained to Ed. “A hundred things can cause the +plants to die, but if they die it'll be blamed on the machine. What +will become of the town if we don't believe in the thing we're going to +manufacture here?” + +The crowds of people, who in the evenings walked out along Turner's Pike +to look at the field with its long rows of sturdy young cabbages, moved +restlessly about and talked of the new days. From the field they went +along the railroad tracks to the site of the factory. The brick walls +began to mount up into the sky. Machinery began to arrive and was housed +under temporary sheds against the time when it could be installed. An +advance horde of workmen came to town and new faces appeared on Main +Street in the evening. The thing that was happening in Bidwell happened +in towns all over the Middle West. Out through the coal and iron regions +of Pennsylvania, into Ohio and Indiana, and on westward into the States +bordering on the Mississippi River, industry crept. Gas and oil were +discovered in Ohio and Indiana. Over night, towns grew into cities. A +madness took hold of the minds of the people. Villages like Lima and +Findlay, Ohio, and like Muncie and Anderson in Indiana, became small +cities within a few weeks. To some of these places, so anxious were the +people to get to them and to invest their money, excursion trains were +run. Town lots that a few weeks before the discovery of oil or gas could +have been bought for a few dollars sold for thousands. Wealth seemed to +be spurting out of the very earth. On farms in Indiana and Ohio giant +gas wells blew the drilling machinery out of the ground, and the fuel so +essential to modern industrial development rushed into the open. A wit, +standing in the presence of one of the roaring gas wells exclaimed, +“Papa, Earth has indigestion; he has gas on his stomach. His face will +be covered with pimples.” + +Having, before the factories came, no market for the gas, the wells were +lighted and at night great torches of flame lit the skies. Pipes were +laid on the surface of the ground and by a day's work a laborer earned +enough to heat his house at tropical heat through an entire winter. +Farmers owning oil-producing land went to bed in the evening poor and +owing money at the bank, and awoke in the morning rich. They moved +into the towns and invested their money in the factories that sprang +up everywhere. In one county in southern Michigan, over five hundred +patents for woven wire farm fencing were taken out in one year, +and almost every patent was a magnet about which a company for the +manufacture of fence formed itself. A vast energy seemed to come out +of the breast of earth and infect the people. Thousands of the most +energetic men of the middle States wore themselves out in forming +companies, and when the companies failed, immediately formed others. +In the fast-growing towns, men who were engaged in organizing companies +representing a capital of millions lived in houses thrown hurriedly +together by carpenters who, before the time of the great awakening, were +engaged in building barns. It was a time of hideous architecture, a time +when thought and learning paused. Without music, without poetry, without +beauty in their lives or impulses, a whole people, full of the native +energy and strength of lives lived in a new land, rushed pell-mell +into a new age. A man in Ohio, who had been a dealer in horses, made a +million dollars out of a patent churn he had bought for the price of a +farm horse, took his wife to visit Europe and in Paris bought a painting +for fifty thousand dollars. In another State of the Middle West, a man +who sold patent medicine from door to door through the country began +dealing in oil leases, became fabulously rich, bought himself three +daily newspapers, and before he had reached the age of thirty-five +succeeded in having himself elected Governor of his State. In the +glorification of his energy his unfitness as a statesman was forgotten. + +In the days before the coming of industry, before the time of the mad +awakening, the towns of the Middle West were sleepy places devoted to +the practice of the old trades, to agriculture and to merchandising. In +the morning the men of the towns went forth to work in the fields or +to the practice of the trade of carpentry, horse-shoeing, wagon making, +harness repairing, and the making of shoes and clothing. They read +books and believed in a God born in the brains of men who came out of a +civilization much like their own. On the farms and in the houses in the +towns the men and women worked together toward the same ends in life. +They lived in small frame houses set on the plains like boxes, but +very substantially built. The carpenter who built a farmer's house +differentiated it from the barn by putting what he called scroll work up +under the eaves and by building at the front a porch with carved posts. +After one of the poor little houses had been lived in for a long time, +after children had been born and men had died, after men and women had +suffered and had moments of joy together in the tiny rooms under the low +roofs, a subtle change took place. The houses became almost beautiful +in their old humanness. Each of the houses began vaguely to shadow forth +the personality of the people who lived within its walls. + +In the farmhouses and in the houses on the side streets in the villages, +life awoke at dawn. Back of each of the houses there was a barn for the +horses and cows, and sheds for pigs and chickens. At daylight a chorus +of neighs, squeals, and cries broke the silence. Boys and men came +out of the houses. They stood in the open spaces before the barns and +stretched their bodies like sleepy animals. The arms extended upward +seemed to be supplicating the gods for fair days, and the fair days +came. The men and boys went to a pump beside the house and washed their +faces and hands in the cold water. In the kitchens there was the smell +and sound of the cooking of food. The women also were astir. The men +went into the barns to feed the animals and then hurried to the houses +to be themselves fed. A continual grunting sound came from the sheds +where pigs were eating corn, and over the houses a contented silence +brooded. + +After the morning meal men and animals went together to the fields and +to the doing of their tasks, and in the houses the women mended clothes, +put fruit in cans against the coming of winter and talked of woman's +affairs. On the streets of the towns on fair days lawyers, doctors, the +officials of the county courts, and the merchants walked about in their +shirt sleeves. The house painter went along with his ladder on his +shoulder. In the stillness there could be heard the hammers of the +carpenters building a new house for the son of a merchant who had +married the daughter of a blacksmith. A sense of quiet growth awoke in +sleeping minds. It was the time for art and beauty to awake in the land. + +Instead, the giant, Industry, awoke. Boys, who in the schools had read +of Lincoln, walking for miles through the forest to borrow his first +book, and of Garfield, the towpath lad who became president, began to +read in the newspapers and magazines of men who by developing +their faculty for getting and keeping money had become suddenly and +overwhelmingly rich. Hired writers called these men great, and there was +no maturity of mind in the people with which to combat the force of the +statement, often repeated. Like children the people believed what they +were told. + +While the new factory was being built with the carefully saved dollars +of the people, young men from Bidwell went out to work in other places. +After oil and gas were discovered in neighboring states, they went to +the fast-growing towns and came home telling wonder tales. In the boom +towns men earned four, five and even six dollars a day. In secret and +when none of the older people were about, they told of adventures on +which they had gone in the new places; of how, attracted by the flood +of money, women came from the cities; and the times they had been with +these women. Young Harley Parsons, whose father was a shoemaker and who +had learned the blacksmith trade, went to work in one of the new oil +fields. He came home wearing a fancy silk vest and astonished his +fellows by buying and smoking ten-cent cigars. His pockets were bulging +with money. “I'm not going to stay long in this town, you can bet on +that,” he declared one evening as he stood, surrounded by a group of +admirers before Fanny Twist's Millinery Shop on lower Main Street. “I +have been with a Chinese woman, and an Italian, and with one from South +America.” He took a puff of his cigar and spat on the sidewalk. “I'm +out to get what I can out of life,” he declared. “I'm going back and +I'm going to make a record. Before I get through I'm going to be with a +woman of every nationality on earth, that's what I'm going to do.” + +Joseph Wainsworth the harness maker, who had been the first man in +Bidwell to feel the touch of the heavy finger of industrialism, could +not get over the effect of the conversation had with Butterworth, the +farmer who had asked him to repair harnesses made by machines in a +factory. He became a silent disgruntled man and muttered as he went +about his work in the shop. When Will Sellinger his apprentice threw +up his place and went to Cleveland he did not get another boy but for +a time worked alone in the shop. He got the name of being disagreeable, +and on winter afternoons the farmers no longer came into his place to +loaf. Being a sensitive man, Joe felt like a pigmy, a tiny thing walking +always in the presence of a giant that might at any moment and by a +whim destroy him. All his life he had been somewhat off-hand with his +customers. “If they don't like my work, let 'em go to the devil,” he +said to his apprentices. “I know my trade and I don't have to bow down +to any one here.” + +When Steve Hunter organized the Bidwell Plant-Setting Machine Company, +the harness maker put his savings, twelve hundred dollars, into the +stock of the company. One day, during the time when the factory was +building, he heard that Steve had paid twelve hundred dollars for a new +lathe that had just arrived by freight and had been set on the floor of +the uncompleted building. The promoter had told a farmer that the lathe +would do the work of a hundred men, and the farmer had come into Joe's +shop and repeated the statement. It stuck in Joe's mind and he came to +believe that the twelve hundred dollars he had invested in stock had +been used for the purchase of the lathe. It was money he had earned in +a long lifetime of effort and it had now bought a machine that would do +the work of a hundred men. Already his money had increased by a hundred +fold and he wondered why he could not be happy about the matter. On some +days he was happy, and then his happiness was followed by an odd fit of +depression. Suppose, after all, the plant-setting machine wouldn't work? +What then could be done with the lathe, with the machine bought with his +money? + +One evening after dark and without saying anything to his wife, he went +down along Turner's Pike to the old factory at Pickleville where Hugh +with the half-wit Allie Mulberry, and the two mechanics from the city, +were striving to correct the faults in the plant-setting machine. Joe +wanted to look at the tall gaunt man from the West, and had some notion +of trying to get into conversation with him and of asking his opinion of +the possibilities of the success of the new machine. The man of the +age of flesh and blood wanted to walk in the presence of the man who +belonged to the new age of iron and steel. When he got to the factory +it was dark and on an express truck in front of the Wheeling Station the +two city workmen sat smoking their evening pipes. Joe walked past them +to the station door and then returned along the platform and got again +into Turner's Pike. He stumbled along the path beside the road and +presently saw Hugh McVey coming toward him. It was one of the evenings +when Hugh, overcome with loneliness, and puzzled that his new position +in the town's life did not bring him any closer to people, had gone +to town to walk through Main Street, half hoping some one would break +through his embarrassment and enter into conversation with him. + +When the harness maker saw Hugh walking in the path, he crept into a +fence corner, and crouching down, watched the man as Hugh had watched +the French boys at work in the cabbage fields. Strange thoughts came +into his head. He thought the extraordinarily tall figure before him in +some way terrible. He became childishly angry and for a moment thought +that if he had a stone in his hand he would throw it at the man, the +workings of whose brain had so upset his own life. Then as the figure of +Hugh went away along the path another mood came. “I have worked all my +life for twelve hundred dollars, for money that will buy one machine +that this man thinks nothing about,” he muttered aloud. “Perhaps I'll +get more money than I invested: Steve Hunter says maybe I will. If +machines kill the harness-making trade what's the difference? I'll be +all right. The thing to do is to get in with the new times, to wake +up, that's the ticket. With me it's like with every one else: nothing +venture nothing gain.” + +Joe crawled out of the fence corner and went stealthily along the road +behind Hugh. A fervor seized him and he thought he would like to creep +close and touch with his finger the hem of Hugh's coat. Afraid to try +anything so bold his mind took a new turn. He ran in the darkness along +the road toward town and, when he had crossed the bridge and come to the +New York Central tracks, turned west and went along the tracks until he +came to the new factory. In the darkness the half completed walls stuck +up into the sky, and all about were piles of building materials. The +night had been dark and cloudy, but now the moon began to push its way +through the clouds. Joe crawled over a pile of bricks and through a +window into the building. He felt his way along the walls until he came +to a mass of iron covered by a rubber blanket. He was sure it must be +the lathe his money had bought, the machine that was to do the work of a +hundred men and that was to make him comfortably rich in his old age. +No one had spoken of any other machine having been brought in on the +factory floor. Joe knelt on the floor and put his hands about the heavy +iron legs of the machine. “What a strong thing it is! It will not break +easily,” he thought. He had an impulse to do something he knew would be +foolish, to kiss the iron legs of the machine or to say a prayer as +he knelt before it. Instead he got to his feet and crawling out again +through the window, went home. He felt renewed and full of new courage +because of the experiences of the night, but when he got to his own +house and stood at the door outside, he heard his neighbor, David +Chapman, a wheelwright who worked in Charlie Collins' wagon shop, +praying in his bedroom before an open window. Joe listened for a moment +and, for some reason he couldn't understand, his new-found faith was +destroyed by what he heard. David Chapman, a devout Methodist, was +praying for Hugh McVey and for the success of his invention. Joe knew +his neighbor had also invested his savings in the stock of the new +company. He had thought that he alone was doubtful of success, but it +was apparent that doubt had come also into the mind of the wheelwright. +The pleading voice of the praying man, as it broke the stillness of the +night, cut across and for the moment utterly destroyed his confidence. +“O God, help the man Hugh McVey to remove every obstacle that stands +in his way,” David Chapman prayed. “Make the plant-setting machine a +success. Bring light into the dark places. O Lord, help Hugh McVey, thy +servant, to build successfully the plant-setting machine.” + + + + +BOOK THREE + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +When Clara Butterworth, the daughter of Tom Butterworth, was eighteen +years old she graduated from the town high school. Until the summer of +her seventeenth year, she was a tall, strong, hard-muscled girl, shy in +the presence of strangers and bold with people she knew well. Her eyes +were extraordinarily gentle. + +The Butterworth house on Medina Road stood back of an apple orchard and +there was a second orchard beside the house. The Medina Road ran south +from Bidwell and climbed gradually upward toward a country of low +hills, and from the side porch of the Butterworth house the view was +magnificent. The house itself was a large brick affair with a cupola on +top and was considered at that time the most pretentious place in the +county. + +Behind the house were several great barns for the horses and cattle. +Most of Tom Butterworth's farm land lay north of Bidwell, and some of +his fields were five miles from his home; but as he did not himself work +the land it did not matter. The farms were rented to men who worked them +on shares. Beside the business of farming Tom carried on other affairs. +He owned two hundred acres of hillside land near his house and, with the +exception of a few fields and a strip of forest land, it was devoted +to the grazing of sheep and cattle. Milk and cream were delivered each +morning to the householders of Bidwell by two wagons driven by his +employees. A half mile to the west of his residence there was a +slaughter house on a side road and at the edge of a field where cattle +were killed for the Bidwell market. Tom owned it and employed the men +who did the killing. A creek that came down out of the hills through +one of the fields past his house had been dammed, and south of the +pond there was an ice house. He also supplied the town with ice. In his +orchards beneath the trees stood more than a hundred beehives and every +year he shipped honey to Cleveland. The farmer himself was a man who +appeared to do nothing, but his shrewd mind was always at work. In the +summer throughout the long sleepy afternoons, he drove about over the +county buying sheep and cattle, stopping to trade horses with some +farmer, dickering for new pieces of land, everlastingly busy. He had one +passion. He loved fast trotting horses, but would not humor himself by +owning one. “It's a game that only gets you into trouble and debt,” he +said to his friend John Clark, the banker. “Let other men own the horses +and go broke racing them. I'll go to the races. Every fall I can go to +Cleveland to the grand circuit. If I go crazy about a horse I can bet +ten dollars he'll win. If he doesn't I'm out ten dollars. If I owned him +I would maybe be out hundreds for the expense of training and all that.” + The farmer was a tall man with a white beard, broad shoulders, and +rather small slender white hands. He chewed tobacco, but in spite of the +habit kept both himself and his white beard scrupulously clean. His wife +had died while he was yet in the full vigor of life, but he had no +eye for women. His mind, he once told one of his friends, was too much +occupied with his own affairs and with thoughts of the fine horses he +had seen to concern itself with any such nonsense. + +For many years the farmer did not appear to pay much attention to his +daughter Clara, who was his only child. Throughout her childhood she was +under the care of one of his five sisters, all of whom except the one +who lived with him and managed his household being comfortably married. +His own wife had been a somewhat frail woman, but his daughter had +inherited his own physical strength. + +When Clara was seventeen, she and her father had a quarrel that +eventually destroyed their relationship. The quarrel began late in +July. It was a busy summer on the farms and more than a dozen men were +employed about the barns, in the delivery of ice and milk to the town, +and at the slaughtering pens a half mile away. During that summer +something happened to the girl. For hours she sat in her own room in the +house reading books, or lay in a hammock in the orchard and looked up +through the fluttering leaves of the apple trees at the summer sky. A +light, strangely soft and enticing, sometimes came into her eyes. Her +figure that had been boyish and strong began to change. As she went +about the house she sometimes smiled at nothing. Her aunt hardly noticed +what was happening to her, but her father, who all her life had seemed +hardly to take account of her existence, was interested. In her presence +he began to feel like a young man. As in the days of his courtship +of her mother and before the possessive passion in him destroyed his +ability to love, he began to feel vaguely that life about him was full +of significance. Sometimes in the afternoon when he went for one of his +long drives through the country he asked his daughter to accompany him, +and although he had little to say a kind of gallantry crept into his +attitude toward the awakening girl. While she was in the buggy with him, +he did not chew tobacco, and after one or two attempts to indulge in the +habit without having the smoke blow in her face, he gave up smoking his +pipe during the drives. + +Always before that summer Clara had spent the months when there was no +school in the company of the farm hands. She rode on wagons, visited the +barns, and when she grew weary of the company of older people, went into +town to spend an afternoon with one of her friends among the town girls. + +In the summer of her seventeenth year she did none of these things. At +the table she ate in silence. The Butterworth household was at that time +run on the old-fashioned American plan, and the farm hands, the men who +drove the ice and milk wagons and even the men who killed and dressed +cattle and sheep, ate at the same table with Tom Butterworth, his +sister, who was the housekeeper, and his daughter. Three hired girls +were employed in the house and after all had been served they also +came and took their places at table. The older men among the farmer's +employees, many of whom had known her from childhood, had got into +the habit of teasing the daughter of the house. They made comments +concerning town boys, young fellows who clerked in stores or who were +apprenticed to some tradesman and one of whom had perhaps brought the +girl home at night from a school party or from one of the affairs called +“socials” that were held at the town churches. After they had eaten in +the peculiar silent intent way common to hungry laborers, the farm hands +leaned back in their chairs and winked at each other. Two of them began +an elaborate conversation touching on some incident in the girl's life. +One of the older men, who had been on the farm for many years and who +had a reputation among the others of being something of a wit, chuckled +softly. He began to talk, addressing no one in particular. The man's +name was Jim Priest, and although the Civil War had come upon the +country when he was past forty, he had been a soldier. In Bidwell he was +looked upon as something of a rascal, but his employer was very fond of +him. The two men often talked together for hours concerning the merits +of well known trotting horses. In the war Jim had been what was called +a bounty man, and it was whispered about town that he had also been a +deserter and a bounty jumper. He did not go to town with the other men +on Saturday afternoons, and had never attempted to get into the Bidwell +chapter of the G. A. R. On Saturdays when the other farm hands washed, +shaved and dressed themselves in their Sunday clothes preparatory to the +weekly flight to town, he called one of them into the barn, slipped a +quarter into his hand, and said, “Bring me a half pint and don't you +forget it.” On Sunday afternoons he crawled into the hayloft of one of +the barns, drank his weekly portion of whisky, got drunk, and sometimes +did not appear again until time to go to work on Monday morning. In the +fall Jim took his savings and went to spend a week at the grand circuit +trotting meeting at Cleveland, where he bought a costly present for his +employer's daughter and then bet the rest of his money on the races. +When he was lucky he stayed on in Cleveland, drinking and carousing +until his winnings were gone. + +It was Jim Priest who always led the attacks of teasing at the table, +and in the summer of her seventeenth year, when she was no longer in the +mood for such horse-play, it was Jim who brought the practice to an +end. At the table Jim leaned back in his chair, stroked his red bristly +beard, now rapidly graying, looked out of a window over Clara's head, +and told a tale concerning an attempt at suicide on the part of a young +man in love with Clara. He said the young man, a clerk in a Bidwell +store, had taken a pair of trousers from a shelf, tied one leg about +his neck and the other to a bracket in the wall. Then he jumped off a +counter and had only been saved from death because a town girl, passing +the store, had seen him and had rushed in and cut him down. “Now what +do you think of that?” he cried. “He was in love with our Clara, I tell +you.” + +After the telling of the tale, Clara got up from the table and ran out +of the room. The farm hands joined by her father laughed heartily. Her +aunt shook her finger at Jim Priest, the hero of the occasion. “Why +don't you let her alone?” she asked. + +“She'll never get married if she stays here where you make fun of every +young man who pays her any attention.” At the door Clara stopped and, +turning, put out her tongue at Jim Priest. Another roar of laughter +arose. Chairs were scraped along the floor and the men filed out of the +house to go back to the work in the barns and about the farm. + +In the summer when the change came over her Clara sat at the table and +did not hear the tales told by Jim Priest. She thought the farm hands +who ate so greedily were vulgar, a notion she had never had before, and +wished she did not have to eat with them. One afternoon as she lay in +the hammock in the orchard, she heard several of the men in a nearby +barn discussing the change that had come over her. Jim Priest was +explaining what had happened. “Our fun's over with Clara,” he said. “Now +we'll have to treat her in a new way. She's no longer a kid. We'll have +to let her alone or pretty soon she won't speak to any of us. It's a +thing that happens when a girl begins to think about being a woman. The +sap has begun to run up the tree.” + +The puzzled girl lay in the hammock and looked up at the sky. She +thought about Jim Priest's words and tried to understand what he meant. +Sadness crept over her and tears came into her eyes. Although she did +not know what the old man meant by the words about the sap and the tree, +she did, in a detached subconscious way, understand something of the +import of the words, and she was grateful for the thoughtfulness that +had led to his telling the others to stop trying to tease her at the +table. The half worn-out old farm hand, with the bristly beard and the +strong old body, became a figure full of significance to her mind. She +remembered with gratitude that, in spite of all of his teasing, Jim +Priest had never said anything that had in any way hurt her. In the +new mood that had come upon her that meant much. A greater hunger for +understanding, love, and friendliness took possession of her. She did +not think of turning to her father or to her aunt, with whom she had +never talked of anything intimate or close to herself, but turned +instead to the crude old man. A hundred minor points in the character of +Jim Priest she had never thought of before came sharply into her mind. +In the barns he had never mistreated the animals as the other farm +hands sometimes did. When on Sunday afternoons he was drunk and went +staggering through the barns, he did not strike the horses or swear +at them. She wondered if it would be possible for her to talk to Jim +Priest, to ask him questions about life and people and what he meant +by his words regarding the sap and the tree. The farm hand was old and +unmarried. She wondered if in his youth he had ever loved a woman. She +decided he had. His words about the sap were, she was sure, in some way +connected with the idea of love. How strong his hands were. They were +gnarled and rough, but there was something beautifully powerful about +them. She half wished the old man had been her father. In his youth, +in the darkness at night or when he was alone with a girl, perhaps in a +quiet wood in the late afternoon when the sun was going down, he had put +his hands on her shoulders. He had drawn the girl to him. He had kissed +her. + +Clara jumped quickly out of the hammock and walked about under the trees +in the orchard. Her thoughts of Jim Priest's youth startled her. It was +as though she had walked suddenly into a room where a man and woman were +making love. Her cheeks burned and her hands trembled. As she walked +slowly through the clumps of grass and weeds that grew between the trees +where the sunlight struggled through, bees coming home to the hives +heavily laden with honey flew in droves about her head. There was +something heady and purposeful about the song of labor that arose out of +the beehives. It got into her blood and her step quickened. The words of +Jim Priest that kept running through her mind seemed a part of the same +song the bees were singing. “The sap has begun to run up the tree,” she +repeated aloud. How significant and strange the words seemed! They were +the kind of words a lover might use in speaking to his beloved. She had +read many novels, but they contained no such words. It was better so. +It was better to hear them from human lips. Again she thought of Jim +Priest's youth and boldly wished he were still young. She told herself +that she would like to see him young and married to a beautiful young +woman. She stopped by a fence that looked out upon a hillside meadow. +The sun seemed extraordinarily bright, the grass in the meadow greener +than she had ever seen it before. Two birds in a tree nearby made love +to each other. The female flew madly about and was pursued by the male +bird. In his eagerness he was so intent that he flew directly before the +girl's face, his wing nearly touching her cheek. She went back through +the orchard to the barns and through one of them to the open door of +a long shed that was used for housing wagons and buggies, her mind +occupied with the idea of finding Jim Priest, of standing perhaps near +him. He was not about, but in the open space before the shed, John May, +a young man of twenty-two who had just come to work on the farm, was +oiling the wheels of a wagon. His back was turned and as he handled the +heavy wagon wheels the muscles could be seen playing beneath his thin +cotton shirt. “It is so Jim Priest must have looked in his youth,” the +girl thought. + +The farm girl wanted to approach the young man, to speak to him, to +ask him questions concerning many strange things in life she did not +understand. She knew that under no circumstances would she be able to do +such a thing, that it was but a meaningless dream that had come into +her head, but the dream was sweet. She did not, however, want to talk to +John May. At the moment she was in a girlish period of being disgusted +at what she thought of as the vulgarity of the men who worked on the +place. At the table they ate noisily and greedily like hungry animals. +She wanted youth that was like her own youth, crude and uncertain +perhaps, but reaching eagerly out into the unknown. She wanted to draw +very near to something young, strong, gentle, insistent, beautiful. When +the farm hand looked up and saw her standing and looking intently at +him, she was embarrassed. For a moment the two young animals, so +unlike each other, stood staring at each other and then, to relieve her +embarrassment, Clara began to play a game. Among the men employed on the +farm she had always passed for something of a tomboy. In the hayfields +and in the barns she had wrestled and fought playfully with both the old +and the young men. To them she had always been a privileged person. They +liked her and she was the boss's daughter. One did not get rough with +her or say or do rough things. A basket of corn stood just within the +door of the shed, and running to it Clara took an ear of the yellow corn +and threw it at the farm hand. It struck a post of the barn just above +his head. Laughing shrilly Clara ran into the shed among the wagons, and +the farm hand pursued her. + +John May was a very determined man. He was the son of a laborer in +Bidwell and for two or three years had been employed about the stable of +a doctor, something had happened between him and the doctor's wife +and he had left the place because he had a notion that the doctor was +becoming suspicious. The experience had taught him the value of boldness +in dealing with women. Ever since he had come to work on the Butterworth +farm, he had been having thoughts regarding the girl who had now, he +imagined, given him direct challenge. He was a little amazed by her +boldness but did not stop to ask himself questions, she had openly +invited him to pursue her. That was enough. His accustomed awkwardness +and clumsiness went away and he leaped lightly over the extended tongues +of wagons and buggies. He caught Clara in dark corner of the shed. +Without a word he took her tightly into his arms and kissed her, first +upon the neck and then on the mouth. She lay trembling and weak in his +arms and he took hold of the collar of her dress and tore it open. Her +brown neck and one of her hard, round breasts were exposed. Clara's eyes +grew big with fright. Strength came back into her body. With her sharp +hard little fist she struck John May in the face; and when he stepped +back she ran quickly out of the shed. John May did not understand. He +thought she had sought him out once and would return. “She's a little +green. I was too fast. I scared her. Next time I'll go a little easy,” + he thought. + +Clara ran through the barn and then walked slowly to the house and went +upstairs to her own room. A farm dog followed her up the stairs and +stood at her door wagging his tail. She shut the door in his face. For +the moment everything that lived and breathed seemed to her gross and +ugly. Her cheeks were pale and she pulled shut the blinds to the window +and sat down on the bed, overcome with the strange new fear of life. She +did not want even the sunlight to come into her presence. John May had +followed her through the barn and now stood in the barnyard staring at +the house. She could see him through the cracks of the blinds and wished +it were possible to kill him with a gesture of her hand. + +The farm hand, full of male confidence, waited for her to come to the +window and look down at him. He wondered if there were any one else in +the house. Perhaps she would beckon to him. Something of the kind had +happened between him and the doctor's wife and it had turned out that +way. When after five or ten minutes he did not see her, he went back to +the work of oiling the wagon wheels. “It's going to be a slower thing. +She's shy, a green girl,” he told himself. + +One evening a week later Clara sat on the side porch of the house with +her father when John May came into the barnyard. It was a Wednesday +evening and the farm hands were not in the habit of going into town +until Saturday, but he was dressed in his Sunday clothes and had shaved +and oiled his hair. On the occasion of a wedding or a funeral the +laborers put oil in their hair. It was indicative of something very +important about to happen. Clara looked at him, and in spite of the +feeling of repugnance that swept over her, her eyes glistened. Ever +since the affair in the barn she had managed to avoid meeting him but +she was not afraid. He had in fact taught her something. There was a +power within her with which she could conquer men. The touch of her +father's shrewdness, that was a part of her nature, had come to her +rescue. She wanted to laugh at the silly pretensions of the man, to +make a fool of him. Her cheeks flushed with pride in her mastery of the +situation. + +John May walked almost to the house and then turned along the path +that led to the road. He made a gesture with his hand and by chance Tom +Butterworth, who had been looking off across the open country toward +Bidwell, turned and saw both the movement and the leering confident +smile on the farm hand's face. He arose and followed John May into the +road, astonishment and anger fighting for possession of him. The two men +stood talking for three minutes in the road before the house and then +returned. The farm hand went to the barn and then came back along the +path to the road carrying under his arm a grain bag containing his work +clothes. He did not look up as he went past. The farmer returned to the +porch. + +The misunderstanding that was to wreck the tender relationship that had +begun to grow up between father and daughter began on that evening. Tom +Butterworth was furious. He muttered and clinched his fists. Clara's +heart beat heavily. For some reason she felt guilty, as though she had +been caught in an intrigue with the man. For a long time her father +remained silent and then he, like the farm hand, made a furious and +brutal attack on her. “Where have you been with that fellow? What you +been up to?” he asked harshly. + +For a time Clara did not answer her father's question. She wanted to +scream, to strike him in the face with her fist as she had struck +the man in the shed. Then her mind struggled to take hold of the new +situation. The fact that her father had accused her of seeking the thing +that had happened made her hate John May less heartily. She had some one +else to hate. + +Clara did not think the matter out clearly on that first evening but, +after denying that she had ever been anywhere with John May, burst into +tears and ran into the house. In the darkness of her own room she +began to think of her father's words. For some reason she could not +understand, the attack made on her spirit seemed more terrible and +unforgivable than the attack upon her body made by the farm hand in +the shed. She began to understand vaguely that the young man had been +confused by her presence on that warm sunshiny afternoon as she had been +confused by the words uttered by Jim Priest, by the song of the bees in +the orchard, by the love-making of the birds, and by her own uncertain +thoughts. He had been confused and he was stupid and young. There had +been an excuse for his confusion. It was understandable and could be +dealt with. She had now no doubt of her own ability to deal with John +May. As for her father--it was all right for him to be suspicious +regarding the farm hand, but why had he been suspicious of her? + +The perplexed girl sat down in the darkness on the edge of the bed, +and a hard look came into her eyes. After a time her father came up +the stairs and knocked at her door. He did not come in but stood in the +hallway outside and talked. She remained calm while the conversation +lasted, and that confused the man who had expected to find her in tears. +That she was not seemed to him an evidence of guilt. + +Tom Butterworth, in many ways a shrewd, observing man, never understood +the quality of his own daughter. He was an intensely possessive man and +once, when he was newly married, there had been a suspicion in his mind +that there was something between his wife and a young man who had worked +on the farm where he then lived. The suspicion was unfounded, but he +discharged the man and one evening, when his wife had gone into town to +do some shopping and did not return at the accustomed time, he followed, +and when he saw her on the street stepped into a store to avoid a +meeting. She was in trouble. Her horse had become suddenly lame and she +had to walk home. Without letting her see him the husband followed along +the road. It was dark and she heard the footsteps in the road behind +her and becoming frightened ran the last half mile to her own house. He +waited until she had entered and then followed her in, pretending he had +just come from the barns. When he heard her story of the accident to the +horse and of her fright in the road he was ashamed; but as the horse, +that had been left in a livery stable, seemed all right when he went for +it the next day he became suspicious again. + +As he stood outside the door of his daughter's room, the farmer felt as +he had felt that evening long before when he followed his wife along +the road. When on the porch downstairs he had looked up suddenly and had +seen the gesture made by the farm hand, he had also looked quickly at +his daughter. She looked confused and, he thought, guilty. “Well, it +is the same thing over again,” he thought bitterly, “like mother, like +daughter--they are both of the same stripe.” Getting quickly out of his +chair he had followed the young man into the road and had discharged +him. “Go, to-night. I don't want to see you on the place again,” he +said. In the darkness before the girl's room he thought of many bitter +things he wanted to say. He forgot she was a girl and talked to her +as he might have talked to a mature, sophisticated, and guilty woman. +“Come,” he said, “I want to know the truth. If you have been with that +farm hand you are starting young. Has anything happened between you?” + +Clara walked to the door and confronted her father. The hatred of him, +born in that hour and that never left her, gave her strength. She did +not know what he was talking about, but had a keen sense of the fact +that he, like the stupid, young man in the shed, was trying to violate +something very precious in her nature. “I don't know what you are +talking about,” she said calmly, “but I know this. I am no longer a +child. Within the last week I've become a woman. If you don't want me in +your house, if you don't like me any more, say so and I'll go away.” + +The two people stood in the darkness and tried to look at each other. +Clara was amazed by her own strength and by the words that had come +to her. The words had clarified something. She felt that if her father +would but take her into his arms or say some kindly understanding word, +all could be forgotten. Life could be started over again. In the future +she would understand much that she had not understood. She and her +father could draw close to each other. Tears came into her eyes and a +sob trembled in her throat. As her father, however, did not answer her +words and turned to go silently away, she shut the door with a loud +bang and afterward lay awake all night, white and furious with anger and +disappointment. + +Clara left home to become a college student that fall, but before she +left had another passage at arms with her father. In August a young man +who was to teach in the town schools came to Bidwell, and she met him +at a supper given in the basement of the church. He walked home with her +and came on the following Sunday afternoon to call. She introduced the +young man, a slender fellow with black hair, brown eyes, and a serious +face, to her father who answered by nodding his head and walking away. +She and the young man walked along a country road and went into a wood. +He was five years older than herself and had been to college, but she +felt much the older and wiser. The thing that happens to so many women +had happened to her. She felt older and wiser than all the men she had +ever seen. She had decided, as most women finally decide, that there +are two kinds of men in the world, those who are kindly, gentle, +well-intentioned children, and those who, while they remain children, +are obsessed with stupid, male vanity and imagine themselves born to be +masters of life. Clara's thoughts on the matter were not very clear. +She was young and her thoughts were indefinite. She had, however, been +shocked into an acceptance of life and she was made of the kind of stuff +that survives the blows life gives. + +In the wood with the young school teacher, Clara began an experiment. +Evening came on and it grew dark. She knew her father would be furious +that she did not come home but she did not care. She led the school +teacher to talk of love and the relationships of men and women. She +pretended an innocence that was not hers. School girls know many things +that they do not apply to themselves until something happens to them +such as had happened to Clara. The farmer's daughter became conscious. +She knew a thousand things she had not known a month before and began to +take her revenge upon men for their betrayal of her. In the darkness as +they walked home together, she tempted the young man into kissing her, +and later lay in his arms for two hours, entirely sure of herself, +striving to find out, without risk to herself, the things she wanted to +know about life. + +That night she again quarreled with her father. He tried to scold her +for remaining out late with a man, and she shut the door in his face. +On another evening she walked boldly out of the house with the school +teacher. The two walked along a road to where a bridge went over a small +stream. John May, who was still determined that the farmer's daughter +was in love with him, had on that evening followed the school teacher to +the Butterworth house and had been waiting outside intending to frighten +his rival with his fists. On the bridge something happened that drove +the school teacher away. John May came up to the two people and began +to make threats. The bridge had just been repaired and a pile of small, +sharp-edged stones lay close at hand. Clara picked one of them up and +handed it to the school teacher. “Hit him,” she said. “Don't be afraid. +He's only a coward. Hit him on the head with the stone.” + +The three people stood in silence waiting for something to happen. John +May was disconcerted by Clara's words. He had thought she wanted him to +pursue her. He stepped toward the school teacher, who dropped the stone +that had been put into his hand and ran away. Clara went back along the +road toward her own house followed by the muttering farm hand who, after +her speech at the bridge, did not dare approach. “Maybe she was making +a bluff. Maybe she didn't want that young fellow to get on to what is +between us,” he muttered, as he stumbled along in the darkness. + +In the house Clara sat for a half hour at a table in the lighted living +room beside her father, pretending to read a book. She half hoped he +would say something that would permit her to attack him. When nothing +happened she went upstairs and to bed, only again to spend the night +awake and white with anger at the thought of the cruel and unexplainable +things life seemed trying to do to her. + +In September Clara left the farm to attend the State University at +Columbus. She was sent there because Tom Butterworth had a sister who +was married to a manufacturer of plows and lived at the State Capital. +After the incident with the farm hand and the misunderstanding that had +sprung up between himself and his daughter, he was uncomfortable with +her in the house and was glad to have her away. He did not want to +frighten his sister by telling of what had happened, and when he wrote, +tried to be diplomatic. “Clara has been too much among the rough men who +work on my farms and had become a little rough,” he wrote. “Take her in +hand. I want her to become more of a lady. Get her acquainted with the +right kind of people.” In secret he hoped she would meet and marry some +young man while she was away. Two of his sisters had gone away to school +and it had turned out that way. + +During the month before his daughter left home the farmer tried to be +somewhat more human and gentle in his attitude toward her, but did not +succeed in dispelling the dislike of himself that had taken deep root +in her nature. At table he made jokes at which the farm hands laughed +boisterously. Then he looked at his daughter who did not appear to have +been listening. Clara ate quickly and hurried out of the room. She did +not go to visit her girl friends in town and the young school teacher +came no more to see her. During the long summer afternoons she walked +in the orchard among the beehives or climbed over fences and went into +a wood, where she sat for hours on a fallen log staring at the trees and +the sky. Tom Butterworth also hurried out of his house. He pretended to +be busy and every day drove far and wide over the country. Sometimes he +thought he had been brutal and crude in his treatment of his daughter, +and decided he would speak to her regarding the matter and ask her to +forgive him. Then his suspicion returned. He struck the horse with +the whip and drove furiously along the lonely roads. “Well, there's +something wrong,” he muttered aloud. “Men don't just look at women and +approach them boldly, as that young fellow did with Clara. He did +it before my very eyes. He's been given some encouragement.” An old +suspicion awoke in him. “There was something wrong with her mother, and +there's something wrong with her. I'll be glad when the time comes for +her to marry and settle down, so I can get her off my hands,” he thought +bitterly. + +On the evening when Clara left the farm to go to the train that was to +take her away, her father said he had a headache, a thing he had never +been known to complain of before, and told Jim Priest to drive her to +the station. Jim took the girl to the station, saw to the checking of +her baggage, and waited about until her train came in. Then he boldly +kissed her on the cheek. “Good-by, little girl,” he said gruffly. Clara +was so grateful she could not reply. On the train she spent an hour +weeping softly. The rough gentleness of the old farm hand had done much +to take the growing bitterness out of her heart. She felt that she was +ready to begin life anew, and wished she had not left the farm without +coming to a better understanding with her father. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The Woodburns of Columbus were wealthy by the standards of their day. +They lived in a large house and kept two carriages and four servants, +but had no children. Henderson Woodburn was small of stature, wore a +gray beard, and was neat and precise about his person. He was treasurer +of the plow manufacturing company and was also treasurer of the church +he and his wife attended. In his youth he had been called “Hen” Woodburn +and had been bullied by larger boys, and when he grew to be a man and +after his persistent shrewdness and patience had carried him into a +position of some power in the business life of his native city he in +turn became something of a bully to the men beneath him. He thought +his wife Priscilla had come from a better family than his own and was +a little afraid of her. When they did not agree on any subject, she +expressed her opinion gently but firmly, while he blustered for a time +and then gave in. After a misunderstanding his wife put her arms about +his neck and kissed the bald spot on the top of his head. Then the +subject was forgotten. + +Life in the Woodburn house was lived without words. After the stir and +bustle of the farm, the silence of the house for a long time frightened +Clara. Even when she was alone in her own room she walked about on +tiptoe. Henderson Woodburn was absorbed in his work, and when he came +home in the evening, ate his dinner in silence and then worked again. +He brought home account books and papers from the office and spread them +out on a table in the living room. His wife Priscilla sat in a large +chair under a lamp and knitted children's stockings. They were, she told +Clara, for the children of the poor. As a matter of fact the stockings +never left her house. In a large trunk in her room upstairs lay hundreds +of pairs knitted during the twenty-five years of her family life. + +Clara was not very happy in the Woodburn household, but on the +other hand, was not very unhappy. She attended to her studies at the +University passably well and in the late afternoons took a walk with a +girl classmate, attended a matinee at the theater, or read a book. In +the evening she sat with her aunt and uncle until she could no longer +bear the silence, and then went to her own room, where she studied +until it was time to go to bed. Now and then she went with the two older +people to a social affair at the church, of which Henderson Woodburn +was treasurer, or accompanied them to dinners at the homes of other +well-to-do and respectable business men. On several occasions young men, +sons of the people with whom the Woodburns dined, or students at the +university, came in the evening to call. On such an occasion Clara and +the young man sat in the parlor of the house and talked. After a time +they grew silent and embarrassed in each other's presence. From the next +room Clara could hear the rustling of the papers containing the columns +of figures over which her uncle was at work. Her aunt's knitting needles +clicked loudly. The young man told a tale of some football game, or if +he had already gone out into the world, talked of his experiences as a +traveler selling the wares manufactured or merchandized by his father. +Such visits all began at the same hour, eight o'clock, and the young man +left the house promptly at ten. Clara grew to feel that she was being +merchandized and that they had come to look at the goods. One evening +one of the men, a fellow with laughing blue eyes and kinky yellow hair, +unconsciously disturbed her profoundly. All the evening he talked just +as the others had talked and got out of his chair to go away at the +prescribed hour. Clara walked with him to the door. She put out her +hand, which he shook cordially. Then he looked at her and his eyes +twinkled. “I've had a good time,” he said. Clara had a sudden and almost +overpowering desire to embrace him. She wanted to disturb his assurance, +to startle him by kissing him on the lips or holding him tightly in +her arms. Shutting the door quickly, she stood with her hand on the +door-knob, her whole body trembling. The trivial by-products of her +age's industrial madness went on in the next room. The sheets of paper +rustled and the knitting needles clicked. Clara thought she would like +to call the young man back into the house, lead him to the room where +the meaningless industry went endlessly on and there do something that +would shock them and him as they had never been shocked before. She ran +quickly upstairs. “What is getting to be the matter with me?” she asked +herself anxiously. + + * * * * * + +One evening in the month of May, during her third year at the +University, Clara sat on the bank of a tiny stream by a grove of trees, +far out on the edge of a suburban village north of Columbus. Beside her +sat a young man named Frank Metcalf whom she had known for a year and +who had once been a student in the same classes with herself. He was +the son of the president of the plow manufacturing company of which her +uncle was treasurer. As they sat together by the stream the afternoon +light began to fade and darkness came on. Before them across an open +field stood a factory, and Clara remembered that the whistle had +long since blown and the men from the factory had gone home. She grew +restless and sprang to her feet. Young Metcalf who had been talking very +earnestly arose and stood beside her. “I can't marry for two years, +but we can be engaged and that will be all the same thing as far as the +right and wrong of what I want and need is concerned. It isn't my fault +I can't ask you to marry me now,” he declared. “In two years now, I'll +inherit eleven thousand dollars. My aunt left it to me and the old fool +went and fixed it so I don't get it if I marry before I'm twenty-four. I +want that money. I've got to have it, but I got to have you too.” + +Clara looked away into the evening darkness and waited for him to +finish his speech. All afternoon he had been making practically the +same speech, over and over. “Well, I can't help it, I'm a man,” he said +doggedly. “I can't help it, I want you. I can't help it, my aunt was an +old fool.” He began to explain the necessity of remaining unmarried in +order that he could receive the eleven thousand dollars. “If I don't get +that money I'll be just the same as I am now,” he declared. “I won't +be any good.” He grew angry and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, +stared also across the field into the darkness. “Nothing keeps me +satisfied,” he said. “I hate being in my father's business and I hate +going to school. In only two years I'll get the money. Father can't keep +it from me. I'll take it and light out. I don't know just what I'll do. +I'm going maybe to Europe, that's what I'm going to do. Father wants +me to stay here and work in his office. To hell with that. I want to +travel. I'll be a soldier or something. Anyway I'll get out of here and +go somewhere and do something exciting, something alive. You can go with +me. We'll cut out together. Haven't you got the nerve? Why don't you be +my woman?” + +Young Metcalf took hold of Clara's shoulder and tried to take her into +his arms. For a moment they struggled and then, in disgust, he stepped +away from her and again began to scold. + +Clara walked away across two or three vacant lots and got into a street +of workingmen's houses, the man following at her heels. Night had come +and the people in the street facing the factory had already disposed +of the evening meal. Children and dogs played in the road and a +strong smell of food hung in the air. To the west across the fields, a +passenger train ran past going toward the city. Its light made wavering +yellow patches against the bluish black sky. Clara wondered why she had +come to the out of the way place with Frank Metcalf. She did not like +him, but there was a restlessness in him that was like the restless +thing in herself. He did not want stupidly to accept life, and that fact +made him brother to herself. Although he was but twenty-two years old, +he had already achieved an evil reputation. A servant in his father's +house had given birth to a child by him, and it had cost a good deal of +money to get her to take the child and go away without making an open +scandal. During the year before he had been expelled from the University +for throwing another young man down a flight of stairs, and it was +whispered about among the girl students that he often got violently +drunk. For a year he had been trying to ingratiate himself with Clara, +had written her letters, sent flowers to her house, and when he met her +on the street had stopped to urge that she accept his friendship. On the +day in May she had met him on the street and he had begged that she give +him one chance to talk things out with her. They had met at a street +crossing where cars went past into the suburban villages that lay about +the city. “Come on,” he had urged, “let's take a street car ride, let's +get out of the crowds, I want to talk to you.” He had taken hold of her +arm and fairly dragged her to a car. “Come and hear what I have to say,” + he had urged, “then if you don't want to have anything to do with +me, all right. You can say so and I'll let you alone.” After she had +accompanied him to the suburb of workingmen's houses, in the vicinity of +which they had spent the afternoon in the fields, Clara had found he had +nothing to urge upon her except the needs of his body. Still she felt +there was something he wanted to say that had not been said. He was +restless and dissatisfied with his life, and at bottom she felt that way +about her own life. During the last three years she had often wondered +why she had come to the school and what she was to gain by learning +things out of books. The days and months went past and she knew certain +rather uninteresting facts she had not known before. How the facts were +to help her to live, she couldn't make out. They had nothing to do with +such problems as her attitude toward men like John May the farm hand, +the school teacher who had taught her something by holding her in his +arms and kissing her, and the dark sullen young man who now walked +beside her and talked of the needs of his body. It seemed to Clara that +every additional year spent at the University but served to emphasize +its inadequacy. It was so also with the books she read and the thoughts +and actions of the older people about her. Her aunt and uncle did not +talk much, but seemed to take it for granted she wanted to live such +another life as they were living. She thought with horror of the +probability of marrying a maker of plows or of some other dull necessity +of life and then spending her days in the making of stockings for babies +that did not come, or in some other equally futile manifestation of her +dissatisfaction. She realized with a shudder that men like her uncle, +who spent their lives in adding up rows of figures or doing over and +over some tremendously trivial thing, had no conception of any outlook +for their women beyond living in a house, serving them physically, +wearing perhaps good enough clothes to help them make a show of +prosperity and success, and drifting finally into a stupid acceptance +of dullness--an acceptance that both she and the passionate, twisted man +beside her were fighting against. + +In a class in the University Clara had met, during that her third year +there, a woman named Kate Chanceller, who had come to Columbus with her +brother from a town in Missouri, and it was this woman who had given her +thoughts form, who had indeed started her thinking of the inadequacy of +her life. The brother, a studious, quiet man, worked as a chemist in a +manufacturing plant somewhere at the edge of town. He was a musician and +wanted to become a composer. One evening during the winter his sister +Kate had brought Clara to the apartment where the two lived, and the +three had become friends. Clara had learned something there that she did +not yet understand and never did get clearly into her consciousness. +The truth was that the brother was like a woman and Kate Chanceller, who +wore skirts and had the body of a woman, was in her nature a man. Kate +and Clara spent many evenings together later and talked of many things +not usually touched on by girl students. Kate was a bold, vigorous +thinker and was striving to grope her way through her own problem in +life and many times, as they walked along the street or sat together +in the evening, she forgot her companion and talked of herself and the +difficulties of her position in life. “It's absurd the way things are +arranged,” she said. “Because my body is made in a certain way I'm +supposed to accept certain rules for living. The rules were not made +for me. Men manufactured them as they manufacture can-openers, on the +wholesale plan.” She looked at Clara and laughed. “Try to imagine me in +a little lace cap, such as your aunt wears about the house, and spending +my days knitting baby stockings,” she said. + +The two women had spent hours talking of their lives and in speculating +on the differences in their natures. The experience had been +tremendously educational for Clara. As Kate was a socialist and Columbus +was rapidly becoming an industrial city, she talked of the meaning of +capital and labor and the effect of changing conditions on the lives of +men and women. To Kate, Clara could talk as to a man, but the antagonism +that so often exists between men and women did not come into and spoil +their companionship. In the evening when Clara went to Kate's house her +aunt sent a carriage to bring her home at nine. Kate rode home with her. +They got to the Woodburn house and went in. Kate was bold and free with +the Woodburns, as with her brother and Clara. “Come,” she said laughing, +“put away your figures and your knitting. Let's talk.” She sat in a +large chair with her legs crossed and talked with Henderson Woodburn of +the affairs of the plow company. The two got into a discussion of the +relative merits of the free trade and protection ideas. Then the two +older people went to bed and Kate talked to Clara. “Your uncle is an +old duffer,” she said. “He knows nothing about the meaning of what he's +doing in life.” When she started home afoot across the city, Clara was +alarmed for her safety. “You must get a cab or let me wake up uncle's +man; something may happen,” she said. Kate laughed and went off, +striding along the street like a man. Sometimes she thrust her hands +into her skirt pockets, that were like the trouser pockets of a man, and +it was difficult for Clara to remember that she was a woman. In Kate's +presence she became bolder than she had ever been with any one. One +evening she told the story of the thing that had happened to her that +afternoon long before on the farm, the afternoon when, her mind having +been inflamed by the words of Jim Priest regarding the sap that goes up +the tree and by the warm sensuous beauty of the day, she had wanted so +keenly to draw close to some one. She explained to Kate how she had been +so brutally jarred out of the feeling in herself that she felt was at +bottom all right. “It was like a blow in the face at the hand of God,” + she said. + +Kate Chanceller was excited as Clara told the tale and listened with +a fiery light burning in her eyes. Something in her manner encouraged +Clara to tell also of her experiments with the school teacher and for +the first time she got a sense of justice toward men by talking to the +woman who was half a man. “I know that wasn't square,” she said. “I know +now, when I talk to you, but I didn't know then. With the school teacher +I was as unfair as John May and my father were with me. Why do men and +women have to fight each other? Why does the battle between them have to +go on?” + +Kate walked up and down before Clara and swore like a man. “Oh, hell,” + she exclaimed, “men are such fools and I suppose women are as bad. They +are both too much one thing. I fall in between. I've got my problem too, +but I'm not going to talk about it. I know what I'm going to do. I'm +going to find some kind of work and do it.” She began to talk of the +stupidity of men in their approach to women. “Men hate such women as +myself,” she said. “They can't use us, they think. What fools! They +should watch and study us. Many of us spend our lives loving other +women, but we have skill. Being part women, we know how to approach +women. We are not blundering and crude. Men want a certain thing from +you. It is delicate and easy to kill. Love is the most sensitive thing +in the world. It's like an orchid. Men try to pluck orchids with ice +tongs, the fools.” + +Walking to where Clara stood by a table, and taking her by the shoulder, +the excited woman stood for a long time looking at her. Then she picked +up her hat, put it on her head, and with a flourish of her hand started +for the door. “You can depend on my friendship,” she said. “I'll do +nothing to confuse you. You'll be in luck if you can get that kind of +love or friendship from a man.” + +Clara kept thinking of the words of Kate Chanceller on the evening +when she walked through the streets of the suburban village with Frank +Metcalf, and later as the two sat on the car that took them back to the +city. With the exception of another student named Phillip Grimes, +who had come to see her a dozen times during her second year in the +University, young Metcalf was the only one of perhaps a dozen men she +had met since leaving the farm who had been attracted to her. Phillip +Grimes was a slender young fellow with blue eyes, yellow hair and a not +very vigorous mustache. He was from a small town in the northern end of +the State, where his father published a weekly newspaper. When he came +to see Clara he sat on the edge of his chair and talked rapidly. Some +person he had seen in the street had interested him. “I saw an old woman +on the car,” he began. “She had a basket on her arm. It was filled +with groceries. She sat beside me and talked aloud to herself.” Clara's +visitor repeated the words of the old woman on the car. He speculated +about her, wondered what her life was like. When he had talked of the +old woman for ten or fifteen minutes, he dropped the subject and began +telling of another experience, this time with a man who sold fruit at a +street crossing. It was impossible to be personal with Phillip Grimes. +Nothing but his eyes were personal. Sometimes he looked at Clara in a +way that I made her feel that her clothes were being stripped from her +body, and that she was being made to stand naked in the room before her +visitor. The experience, when it came, was not entirely a physical one. +It was only in part that. When the thing happened Clara saw her whole +life being stripped bare. “Don't look at me like that,” she once said +somewhat sharply, when his eyes had made her so uncomfortable she could +no longer remain silent. Her remark had frightened Phillip Grimes away. +He got up at once, blushed, stammered something about having another +engagement, and hurried away. + +In the street car, homeward bound beside Frank Metcalf, Clara thought of +Phillip Grimes and wondered whether or not he would have stood the +test of Kate Chanceller's speech regarding love and friendship. He had +confused her, but that was perhaps her own fault. He had not insisted +on himself at all. Frank Metcalf had done nothing else. “One should be +able,” she thought, “to find somewhere a man who respects himself and +his own desires but can understand also the desires and fears of a +woman.” The street car went bouncing along over railroad crossings +and along residence streets. Clara looked at her companion, who stared +straight ahead, and then turned to look out of the car window. The +window was open and she could see the interiors of the laborers' houses +along the streets. In the evening with the lamps lighted they seemed +cosy and comfortable. Her mind ran back to the life in her father's +house and its loneliness. For two summers she had escaped going home. +At the end of her first year in school she had made an illness of her +uncle's an excuse for spending the summer in Columbus, and at the end +of the second year she had found another excuse for not going. This year +she felt she would have to go home. She would have to sit day after day +at the farm table with the farm hands. Nothing would happen. Her father +would remain silent in her presence. She would become bored and weary of +the endless small talk of the town girls. If one of the town boys began +to pay her special attention, her father would become suspicious and +that would lead to resentment in herself. She would do something she did +not want to do. In the houses along the streets through which the car +passed, she saw women moving about. Babies cried and men came out of +the doors and stood talking to one another on the sidewalks. She decided +suddenly that she was taking the problem of her own life too seriously. +“The thing to do is to get married and then work things out afterward,” + she told herself. She made up her mind that the puzzling, insistent +antagonism that existed between men and women was altogether due to the +fact that they were not married and had not the married people's way +of solving such problems as Frank Metcalf had been talking about all +afternoon. She wished she were with Kate Chancellor so that she could +discuss with her this new viewpoint. When she and Frank Metcalf got off +the car she was no longer in a hurry to go home to her uncle's house. +Knowing she did not want to marry him, she thought that in her turn she +would talk, that she would try to make him see her point of view as all +the afternoon he had been trying to make her see his. + +For an hour the two people walked about and Clara talked. She forgot +about the passage of time and the fact that she had not dined. Not +wishing to talk of marriage, she talked instead of the possibility of +friendship between men and women. As she talked her own mind seemed to +her to have become clearer. “It's all foolishness your going on as you +have,” she declared. “I know how dissatisfied and unhappy you sometimes +are. I often feel that way myself. Sometimes I think it's marriage I +want. I really think I want to draw close to some one. I believe every +one is hungry for that experience. We all want something we are not +willing to pay for. We want to steal it or have it given us. That's +what's the matter with me, and that's what's the matter with you.” + +They came to the Woodburn house, and turning in stood on a porch in the +darkness by the front door. At the back of the house Clara could see +a light burning. Her aunt and uncle were at the eternal figuring and +knitting. They were finding a substitute for living. It was the thing +Frank Metcalf was protesting against and was the real reason for her +own constant secret protest. She took hold of the lapel of his coat, +intending to make a plea, to urge upon him the idea of a friendship that +would mean something to them both. In the darkness she could not see his +rather heavy, sullen face. The maternal instinct became strong in her +and she thought of him as a wayward, dissatisfied boy, wanting love and +understanding as she had wanted to be loved and understood by her father +when life in the moment of the awakening of her womanhood seemed ugly +and brutal. With her free hand she stroked the sleeve of his coat. Her +gesture was misunderstood by the man who was not thinking of her words +but of her body and of his hunger to possess it. He took her into his +arms and held her tightly against his breast. She tried to struggle, to +tear herself away but, although she was strong and muscular, she found +herself unable to move. As he held her uncle, who had heard the two +people come up the steps to the door, threw it open. Both he and his +wife had on several occasions warned Clara to have nothing to do with +young Metcalf. One day when he had sent flowers to the house, her aunt +had urged her to refuse to receive them. “He's a bad, dissipated, wicked +man,” she had said. “Have nothing to do with him.” When he saw his niece +in the arms of the man who had been the subject of so much discussion +in his own house and in every respectable house in Columbus, Henderson +Woodburn was furious. He forgot the fact that young Metcalf was the son +of the president of the company of which he was treasurer. It seemed +to him that some sort of a personal insult had been thrown at him by a +common ruffian. “Get out of here,” he screamed. “What do you mean, you +nasty villain? Get out of here.” + +Frank Metcalf went off along the street laughing defiantly, and Clara +went into the house. The sliding doors that led into the living room had +been thrown open and the light from a hanging lamp streamed in upon her. +Her hair was disheveled and her hat twisted to one side. The man and +woman stared at her. The knitting needles and a sheet of paper held in +their hands suggested what they had been doing while Clara was getting +another lesson from life. Her aunt's hands trembled and the knitting +needles clicked together. Nothing was said and the confused and angry +girl ran up a stairway to her own room. She locked herself in and knelt +on the floor by the bed. She did not pray. Her association with Kate +Chanceller had given her another outlet for her feelings. Pounding with +her fists on the bed coverings, she swore. “Fools, damned fools, the +world is filled with nothing but a lot of damned fools.” + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Clara Butterworth left Bidwell, Ohio, in September of the year in which +Steve Hunter's plant-setting machine company went into the hands of a +receiver, and in January of the next year that enterprising young man, +together with Tom Butterworth, bought the plant. In March a new company +was organized and at once began making Hugh's corn-cutting machine, a +success from the beginning. The failure of the first company and the +sale of the plant had created a furor in the town. Both Steve and Tom +Butterworth could, however, point to the fact that they had held on to +their stock and lost their money in common with every one else. Tom had +indeed sold his stock because he needed ready money, as he explained, +but had shown his good faith by buying again just before the failure. +“Do you suppose I would have done that had I known what was up?” he +asked the men assembled in the stores. “Go look at the books of the +company. Let's have an investigation here. You will find that Steve +and I stuck to the rest of the stockholders. We lost our money with the +rest. If any one was crooked and when they saw a failure coming went and +got out from under at the expense of some one else, it wasn't Steve and +me. The books of the company will show we were game. It wasn't our fault +the plant-setting machine wouldn't work.” + +In the back room of the bank, John Clark and young Gordon Hart cursed +Steve and Tom, who, they declared, had sold them out. They had lost no +money by the failure, but on the other hand they had gained nothing. The +four men had sent in a bid for the plant when it was put up for sale, +but as they expected no competition, they had not bid very much. It had +gone to a firm of Cleveland lawyers who bid a little more, and later +had been resold at private sale to Steve and Tom. An investigation was +started and it was found that Steve and Tom held large blocks of stock +in the defunct company, while the bankers held practically none. Steve +openly said that he had known of the possibility of failure for some +time and had warned the larger stock-holders and asked them not to +sell their stock. “While I was working my head off trying to save the +company, what were they up to?” he asked sharply, and his question was +repeated in the stores and in the homes of the people. + +The truth of the matter, and the thing the town never found out, was +that from the beginning Steve had intended to get the plant for himself, +but at the last had decided it would be better to take some one in with +him. He was afraid of John Clark. For two or three days he thought about +the matter and decided that the banker was not to be trusted. “He's too +good a friend to Tom Butterworth,” he told himself. “If I tell him my +scheme, he'll tell Tom. I'll go to Tom myself. He's a money maker and +a man who knows the difference between a bicycle and a wheelbarrow when +you put one of them into bed with him.” + +Steve drove out to Tom's house late one evening in September. He hated +to go but was convinced it would be better to do so. “I don't want to +burn all my bridges behind me,” he told himself. “I've got to have +at least one friend among the solid men here in town. I've got to do +business with these rubes, maybe all my life. I can't shut myself off +too much, at least not yet a while.” + +When Steve got to the farm he asked Tom to get into his buggy, and the +two men went for a long drive. The horse, a gray gelding with one blind +eye hired for the occasion from liveryman Neighbors, went slowly along +through the hill country south of Bidwell. He had hauled hundreds of +young men with their sweethearts. Ambling slowly along, thinking perhaps +of his own youth and of the tyranny of man that had made him a gelding, +he knew that as long as the moon shone and the intense voiceless quiet +continued to reign over the two people in the buggy, the whip would not +come out of its socket and he would not be expected to hurry. + +On the September evening, however, the gray gelding had behind him such +a load as he had never carried before. The two people in the buggy on +that evening were not foolish, meandering sweethearts, thinking only +of love, and allowing themselves to be influenced in their mood by the +beauty of the night, the softness of the black shadows in the road, and +the gentle night winds that crept down over the crests of hills. They +were solid business men, mentors of the new age, the kind of men who, +in the future of America and perhaps of the whole world, were to be the +makers of governments, the molders of public opinion, the owners of the +press, the publishers of books, buyers of pictures, and in the goodness +of their hearts, the feeders of an occasional starving and improvident +poet, lost on other roads. In any event the two men sat in the buggy and +the gray gelding meandered along through the hills. Great splashes of +moonlight lay in the road. By chance it was on the same evening that +Clara Butterworth left home to become a student in the State University. +Remembering the kindness and tenderness of the rough old farm hand, Jim +Priest, who had brought her to the station, she lay in her berth in the +sleeping car and looked out at the roads, washed with moonlight, that +slid away into the distance like ghosts. She thought of her father on +that night and of the misunderstanding that had grown up between them. +For the moment she was tender with regrets. “After all, Jim Priest and +my father must be a good deal alike,” she thought. “They have lived on +the same farm, eaten the same food; they both love horses. There can't +be any great difference between them.” All night she thought of the +matter. An obsession, that the whole world was aboard the moving train +and that, as it ran swiftly along, it was carrying the people of the +world into some strange maze of misunderstanding, took possession of +her. So strong was it that it affected her deeply buried unconscious +self and made her terribly afraid. It seemed to her that the walls of +the sleeping-car berth were like the walls of a prison that had shut her +away from the beauty of life. The walls seemed to close in upon her. +The walls, like life itself, were shutting in upon her youth and her +youthful desire to reach a hand out of the beauty in herself to the +buried beauty in others. She sat up in the berth and forced down a +desire in herself to break the car window and leap out of the swiftly +moving train into the quiet night bathed with moonlight. With girlish +generosity she took upon her own shoulders the responsibility for the +misunderstanding that had grown up between herself and her father. Later +she lost the impulse that led her to come to that decision, but during +that night it persisted. It was, in spite of the terror caused by the +hallucination regarding the moving walls of the berth that seemed about +to crush her and that came back time after time, the most beautiful +night she had ever lived through, and it remained in her memory +throughout her life. She in fact came to think later of that night as +the time when, most of all, it would have been beautiful and right for +her to have been able to give herself to a lover. Although she did not +know it, the kiss on the cheek from the bewhiskered lips of Jim Priest +had no doubt something to do with that thought when it came. + +And while the girl fought her battle with the strangeness of life and +tried to break through the imaginary walls that shut her off from the +opportunity to live, her father also rode through the night. With a +shrewd eye he watched the face of Steve Hunter. It had already begun to +get a little fat, but Tom realized suddenly that it was the face of a +man of ability. There was something about the jowls that made Tom, who +had dealt much in live stock, think of the face of a pig. “The man goes +after what he wants. He's greedy,” the farmer thought. “Now he's up to +something. To get what he wants he'll give me a chance to get something +I want. He's going to make some kind of proposal to me in connection +with the factory. He's hatched up a scheme to shut Gordon Hart and John +Clark out because he doesn't want too many partners. All right, I'll go +in with him. Either one of them would have done the same thing had they +had the chance.” + +Steve smoked a black cigar and talked. As he grew more sure of himself +and the affairs that absorbed him, he also became more smooth and +persuasive in the matter of words. He talked for a time of the necessity +of certain men's surviving and growing constantly stronger and stronger +in the industrial world. “It's necessary for the good of the community,” + he said. “A few fairly strong men are a good thing for a town, but if +they are fewer and relatively stronger it's better.” He turned to look +sharply at his companion. “Well,” he exclaimed, “we talked there in the +bank of what we would do when things went to pieces down at the factory, +but there were too many men in the scheme. I didn't realize it at the +time, but I do now.” He knocked the ashes off his cigar and laughed. +“You know what they did, don't you?” he asked. “I asked you all not to +sell any of your stock. I didn't want to get the whole town bitter. They +wouldn't have lost anything. I promised to see them through, to get the +plant for them at a low price, to put them in the way to make some real +money. They played the game in a small-town way. Some men can think of +thousands of dollars, others have to think of hundreds. It's all their +minds are big enough to comprehend. They snatch at a little measly +advantage and miss the big one. That's what these men have done.” + +For a long time the two rode in silence. Tom, who had also sold his +stock, wondered if Steve knew. He decided he did. “However, he's decided +to deal with me. He needs some one and has chosen me,” he thought. He +made up his mind to be bold. After all, Steve was young. Only a year or +two before he was nothing but a young upstart and the very boys in the +street laughed at him. Tom grew a little indignant, but was careful to +take thought before he spoke. “Perhaps, although he's young and don't +look like much, he's a faster and shrewder thinker than any of us,” he +told himself. + +“You do talk like a fellow who has something up his sleeve,” he said +laughing. “If you want to know, I sold my stock the same as the others. +I wasn't going to take a chance of being a loser if I could help it. It +may be the small-town way, but you know things maybe I don't know. You +can't blame me for living up to my lights. I always did believe in the +survival of the fittest and I got a daughter to support and put through +college. I want to make a lady of her. You ain't got any kids yet and +you're younger. Maybe you want to take chances I don't want to take. How +do I know what you're up to?” + +Again the two rode in silence. Steve had prepared himself for the talk. +He knew there was a chance that, in its turn, the corn-cutting machine +Hugh had invented might not prove practical and that in the end he might +be left with a factory on his hands and with nothing to manufacture in +it. He did not, however, hesitate. Again, as on the day in the bank when +he was confronted by the two older men, he made a bluff. “Well, you can +come in or stay out, just as you wish,” he said a little sharply. +“I'm going to get hold of that factory, if I can, and I'm going to +manufacture corn-cutting machines. Already I have promises of orders +enough to keep running for a year. I can't take you in with me and have +it said around town you were one of the fellows who sold out the small +investors. I've got a hundred thousand dollars of stock in the company. +You can have half of it. I'll take your note for the fifty thousand. You +won't ever have to pay it. The earnings of the new factory will clean +you up. You got to come clean, though. Of course you can go get John +Clark and come out and make an open fight to get the factory yourselves, +if you want to. I own the rights to the corn-cutting machine and will +take it somewhere else and manufacture it. I don't mind telling you +that, if we split up, I will pretty well advertise what you three +fellows did to the small investors after I asked you not to do it. You +can all stay here and own your empty factory and get what satisfaction +you can out of the love and respect you'll get from the people. You +can do what you please. I don't care. My hands are clean. I ain't done +anything I'm ashamed of, and if you want to come in with me, you and I +together will pull off something in this town we don't neither one of us +have to be ashamed of.” + +The two men drove back to the Butterworth farm house and Tom got out +of the buggy. He intended to tell Steve to go to the devil, but as they +drove along the road, he changed his mind. The young school teacher +from Bidwell, who had come on several occasions to call on his daughter +Clara, was on that night abroad with another young woman. He sat in a +buggy with his arm around her waist and drove slowly through the hill +country. Tom and Steve drove past them and the farmer, seeing in the +moonlight the woman in the arms of the man, imagined his daughter in her +place. The thought made him furious. “I'm losing the chance to be a big +man in the town here in order to play safe and be sure of money to leave +to Clara, and all she cares about is to galavant around with some young +squirt,” he thought bitterly. He began to see himself as a wronged +and unappreciated father. When he got out of the buggy, he stood for a +moment by the wheel and looked hard at Steve. “I'm as good a sport as +you are,” he said finally. “Bring around your stock and I'll give you +the note. That's all it will be, you understand: just my note. I don't +promise to back it up with any collateral and I don't expect you to +offer it for sale.” Steve leaned out of the buggy and took him by the +hand. “I won't sell your note, Tom,” he said. “I'll put it away. I want +a partner to help me. You and I are going to do things together.” + +The young promoter drove off along the road, and Tom went into the house +and to bed. Like his daughter he did not sleep. For a time he thought +of her and in imagination saw her again in the buggy with the school +teacher who had her in his arms. The thought made him stir restlessly +about beneath the sheets. “Damn women anyway,” he muttered. To relieve +his mind he thought of other things. “I'll make out a deed and turn +three of my farms over to Clara,” he decided shrewdly. “If things +go wrong we won't be entirely broke. I know Charlie Jacobs in the +court-house over at the county seat. I ought to be able to get a deed +recorded without any one knowing it if I oil Charlie's hand a little.” + + * * * * * + +Clara's last two weeks in the Woodburn household were spent in the +midst of a struggle, no less intense because no words were said. +Both Henderson Wood, burn and his wife felt that Clara owed them an +explanation of the scene at the front door with Frank Metcalf. When she +did not offer it they were offended. When he threw open the door and +confronted the two people, the plow manufacturer had got an impression +that Clara was trying to escape Frank Metcalf's embraces. He told his +wife that he did not think she was to blame for the scene on the front +porch. Not being the girl's father he could look at the matter coldly. +“She's a good girl,” he declared. “That beast of a Frank Metcalf is all +to blame. I daresay he followed her home. She's upset now, but in the +morning she'll tell us the story of what happened.” + +The days went past and Clara said nothing. During her last week in the +house she and the two older people scarcely spoke. The young woman +was in an odd way relieved. Every evening she went to dine with Kate +Chanceller who, when she heard the story of the afternoon in the suburb +and the incident on the porch, went off without Clara's knowing of it +and had a talk with Henderson Woodburn in his office. After the talk the +manufacturer was puzzled and just a little afraid of both Clara and her +friend. He tried to tell his wife about it, but was not very clear. +“I can't make it out,” he said. “She is the kind of woman I can't +understand, that Kate. She says Clara wasn't to blame for what happened +between her and Frank Metcalf, but don't want to tell us the story, +because she thinks young Metcalf wasn't to blame either.” Although he +had been respectful and courteous as he listened to Kate's talk, he grew +angry when he tried to tell his wife what she had said. “I'm afraid it +was just a lot of mixed up nonsense,” he declared. “It makes me glad we +haven't a daughter. If neither of them were to blame what were they up +to? What's getting the matter with the women of the new generation? When +you come down to it what's the matter with Kate Chanceller?” + +The plow manufacturer advised his wife to say nothing to Clara. “Let's +wash our hands of it,” he suggested. “She'll go home in a few days +now and we will say nothing about her coming back next year. Let's be +polite, but act as though she didn't exist.” + +Clara accepted the new attitude of her uncle and aunt without comment. +In the afternoon she did not come home from the University but went to +Kate's apartment. The brother came home and after dinner played on the +piano. At ten o'clock Clara started home afoot and Kate accompanied her. +The two women went out of their way to sit on a bench in a park. They +talked of a thousand hidden phases of life Clara had hardly dared think +of before. During all the rest of her life she thought of those last +weeks in Columbus as the most deeply satisfactory time she ever lived +through. In the Woodburn house she was uncomfortable because of the +silence and the hurt, offended look on her aunt's face, but she did +not spend much time there. In the morning Henderson Woodburn ate his +breakfast alone at seven, and clutching his ever present portfolio of +papers, was driven off to the plow factory. Clara and her aunt had a +silent breakfast at eight, and then Clara also hurried away. “I'll be +out for lunch and will go to Kate's for dinner,” she said as she went +out of her aunt's presence, and she said it, not with the air of one +asking permission as had been her custom before the Frank Metcalf +incident, but as one having the right to dispose of her own time. Only +once did her aunt break the frigid air of offended dignity she had +assumed. One morning she followed Clara to the front door, and as she +watched her go down the steps from the front porch to the walk that +led to the street, called to her. Some faint recollection of a time of +revolt in her own youth perhaps came to her. Tears came into her eyes. +To her the world was a place of terror, where wolf-like men prowled +about seeking women to devour, and she was afraid something dreadful +would happen to her niece. “If you don't want to tell me anything, it's +all right,” she said bravely, “but I wish you felt you could.” When +Clara turned to look at her, she hastened to explain. “Mr. Woodburn +said I wasn't to bother you about it and I won't,” she added quickly. +Nervously folding and unfolding her arms, she turned to stare up the +street with the air of a frightened child that looks into a den of +beasts. “O Clara, be a good girl,” she said. “I know you're grown up +now, but, O Clara, do be careful! Don't get into trouble.” + +The Woodburn house in Columbus, like the Butterworth house in the +country south of Bidwell, sat on a hill. The street fell away rather +sharply as one went toward the business portion of the city and the +street car line, and on the morning when her aunt spoke to her and tried +with her feeble hands to tear some stones out of the wall that was being +built between them, Clara hurried along the street under the trees, +feeling as though she would like also to weep. She saw no possibility of +explaining to her aunt the new thoughts she was beginning to have about +life and did not want to hurt her by trying. “How can I explain my +thoughts when they're not clear in my own mind, when I am myself just +groping blindly about?” she asked herself. “She wants me to be good,” + she thought. “What would she think if I told her that I had come to the +conclusion that, judging by her standards, I have been altogether too +good? What's the use trying to talk to her when I would only hurt her +and make things harder than ever?” She got to a street crossing and +looked back. Her aunt was still standing at the door of her house and +looking at her. There was something soft, small, round, insistent, both +terribly weak and terribly strong about the completely feminine thing +she had made of herself or that life had made of her. Clara shuddered. +She did not make a symbol of the figure of her aunt and her mind did not +form a connection between her aunt's life and what she had become, +as Kate Chanceller's mind would have done. She saw the little, round, +weeping woman as a boy, walking in the tree-lined streets of a town, +sees suddenly the pale face and staring eyes of a prisoner that looks +out at him through the iron bars of a town jail. Clara was startled as +the boy would be startled and, like the boy, she wanted to run quickly +away. “I must think of something else and of other kinds of women or +I'll get things terribly distorted,” she told herself. “If I think of +her and women like her I'll grow afraid of marriage, and I want to be +married as soon as I can find the right man. It's the only thing I can +do. What else is there a woman can do?” + +As Clara and Kate walked about in the evening, they talked continually +of the new position Kate believed women were on the point of achieving +in the world. The woman who was so essentially a man wanted to talk +of marriage and to condemn it, but continually fought the impulse in +herself. She knew that were she to let herself go she would say many +things that, while they might be true enough as regards herself, would +not necessarily be true of Clara. “Because I do not want to live with a +man or be his wife is not very good proof that the institution is wrong. +It may be that I want to keep Clara for myself. I think more of her +than of any one else I've ever met. How can I think straight about her +marrying some man and becoming dulled to the things that mean most to +me?” she asked herself. One evening, when the women were walking from +Kate's apartment to the Woodburn house, they were accosted by two men +who wanted to walk with them. There was a small park nearby and Kate led +the men to it. “Come,” she said, “we won't walk with you, but you may +sit with us here on a bench.” The men sat down beside them and the +older one, a man with a small black mustache, made some remark about the +fineness of the night. The younger man who sat beside Clara looked at +her and laughed. Kate at once got down to business. “Well, you wanted to +walk with us: what for?” she asked sharply. She explained what they had +been doing. “We were walking and talking of women and what they were to +do with their lives,” she explained. “We were expressing opinions, you +see. I don't say either of us had said anything that was very wise, +but we were having a good time and trying to learn something from each +other. Now what have you to say to us? You interrupted our talk and +wanted to walk with us: what for? You wanted to be in our company: now +tell us what you've got to contribute. You can't just come and walk with +us like dumb things. What have you got to offer that you think will make +it worth while for us to break up our conversation with each other and +spend the time talking with you?” + +The older man, he of the mustache, turned to look at Kate, then got up +from the bench. He walked a little away and then turned and made a sign +with his hand to his companion. “Come on,” he said, “let's get out of +here. We're wasting our time. It's a cold trail. They're a couple of +highbrows. Come on, let's be on our way.” + +The two women again walked along the street. Kate could not help feeling +somewhat proud of the way in which she had disposed of the men. She +talked of it until they got to the door of the Woodburn house, and, as +she went away along the street Clara thought she swaggered a little. +She stood by the door and watched her friend until she had disappeared +around a corner. A flash of doubt of the infallibility of Kate's method +with men crossed her mind. She remembered suddenly the soft brown eyes +of the younger of the two men in the park and wondered what was back of +the eyes. Perhaps after all, had she been alone with him, the man might +have had something to say quite as much to the point as the things she +and Kate had been saying to each other. “Kate made the men look like +fools, but after all she wasn't very fair,” she thought as she went into +the house. + + * * * * * + +Clara was in Bidwell for a month before she realized what a change had +taken place in the life of her home town. On the farm things went on +very much as always, except that her father was very seldom there. +He had gone deeply into the project of manufacturing and selling +corn-cutting machines with Steve Hunter, and attended to much of the +selling of the output of the factory. Almost every month he went on +trips to cities of the West. Even when he was in Bidwell, he had got +into the habit of staying at the town hotel for the night. “It's too +much trouble to be always running back and forth,” he explained to Jim +Priest, whom he had put in charge of the farm work. He swaggered before +the old man who for so many years had been almost like a partner in his +smaller activities. “Well, I wouldn't like to have anything said, but I +think it just as well to have an eye on what's going on,” he declared. +“Steve's all right, but business is business. We're dealing in big +affairs, he and I. I don't say he would try to get the best of me; I'm +just telling you that in the future I'll have to be in town most of +the time and can't think of things out here. You look out for the farm. +Don't bother me with details. You just tell me about it when there is +any buying or selling to do.” + +Clara arrived in Bidwell in the early afternoon of a warm day in June. +The hill country through which her train came into town was in the full +flush of its summer beauty. In the little patches of level land between +the hills grain was ripening in the fields. Along the streets of the +tiny towns and on dusty country roads farmers in overalls stood up in +their wagons and scolded at the horses, rearing and prancing in half +pretended fright of the passing train. In the forests on the hillsides +the open places among the trees looked cool and enticing. Clara put +her cheek against the car window and imagined herself wandering in cool +forests with a lover. She forgot the words of Kate Chanceller in regard +to the independent future of women. It was, she thought vaguely, a thing +to be thought about only after some more immediate problem was solved. +Just what the problem was she didn't definitely know, but she did know +that it concerned some close warm contact with life that she had as yet +been unable to make. When she closed her eyes, strong warm hands seemed +to come out of nothingness and touch her flushed cheeks. The fingers of +the hands were strong like the branches of trees. They touched with the +firmness and gentleness of the branches of trees nodding in a summer +breeze. + +Clara sat up stiffly in her seat and when the train stopped at Bidwell +got off and went to her waiting father with a firm, business-like +air. Coming out of the land of dreams, she took on something of the +determined air of Kate Chanceller. She stared at her father and an +onlooker might have thought them two strangers, meeting for the purpose +of discussing some business arrangement. A flavor of something like +suspicion hung over them. They got into Tom's buggy, and as Main Street +was torn up for the purpose of laying a brick pavement and digging a new +sewer, they drove by a roundabout way through residence streets until +they got into Medina Road. Clara looked at her father and felt suddenly +very alert and on her guard. It seemed to her that she was far removed +from the green, unsophisticated girl who had so often walked in +Bidwell's streets; that her mind and spirit had expanded tremendously in +the three years she had been away; and she wondered if her father would +realize the change in her. Either one of two reactions on his part +might, she felt, make her happy. The man might turn suddenly and taking +her hand receive her into fellowship, or he might receive her as a woman +and his daughter by kissing her. + +He did neither. They drove in silence through the town and passed over +a small bridge and into the road that led to the farm. Tom was curious +about his daughter and a little uncomfortable. Ever since the evening +on the porch of the farmhouse, when he had accused her of some unnamed +relationship with John May, he had felt guilty in her presence but had +succeeded in transferring the notion of guilt to her. While she was away +at school he had been comfortable. Sometimes he did not think of her +for a month at a time. Now she had written that she did not intend to go +back. She had not asked his advice, but had said positively that she was +coming home to stay. He wondered what was up. Had she got into another +affair with a man? He wanted to ask, had intended to ask, but in her +presence found that the words he had intended to say would not come to +his lips. After a long silence Clara began to ask questions about the +farm, the men who worked there, her aunt's health, the usual home-coming +questions. Her father answered with generalities. “They're all right,” + he said, “every one and everything's all right.” + +The road began to lift out of the valley in which the town lay, and Tom +stopped the horse and pointing with the whip talked of the town. He was +relieved to have the silence broken, and decided not to say anything +about the letter announcing the end of her school life. “You see there,” + he said, pointing to where the wall of a new brick factory arose above +the trees that grew beside the river. “That's a new factory we're +building. We're going to make corn-cutting machines there. The old +factory's already too small. We've sold it to a new company that's going +to manufacture bicycles. Steve Hunter and I sold it. We got twice what +we paid for it. When the bicycle factory's started, he and I'll own the +control in that too. I tell you the town's on the boom.” + +Tom boasted of his new position in the town and Clara turned and looked +sharply at him and then looked quickly away. He was annoyed by the +action and a flush of anger came to his cheeks. A side of his character +his daughter had never seen before came to the surface. When he was a +simple farmer he had been too shrewd to attempt to play the aristocrat +with his farm hands, but often, as he went about the barns and as he +drove along country roads and saw men at work in his fields, he had +felt like a prince in the presence of his vassals. Now he talked like +a prince. It was that that had startled Clara. There was about him an +indefinable air of princely prosperity. When she turned to look at him +she noticed for the first time how much his person had also changed. +Like Steve Hunter he was beginning to grow fat. The lean hardness of +his cheeks had gone, his jaws seemed heavier, even his hands had changed +their color. He wore a diamond ring on the left hand and it glistened in +the sunlight. “Things have changed,” he declared, still pointing at the +town. “Do you want to know who changed it? Well, I had more to do with +it than any one else. Steve thinks he did it all, but he didn't. I'm +the man who has done the most. He put through the plant-setting machine +company, but that was a failure. When you come right down to it, things +would have gone to pieces again if I hadn't gone to John Clark and +talked and bluffed him into giving us money when we wanted it. I had +most to do with finding the big market for our corn-cutters, too. Steve +lied to me and said he had 'em all sold for a year. He didn't have any +sold at all.” + +Tom struck the horse with the whip and drove rapidly along the road. +Even when the climb became difficult he would not let the horse walk, +but kept cracking the whip over his back. “I'm a different man than I +was when you went away,” he declared. “You might as well know it, I'm +the big man in this town. It comes pretty near being my town when you +come right down to it. I'm going to take care of every one in Bidwell +and give every one a chance to make money, but it's my town now pretty +near and you might as well know it.” + +Embarrassed by his own words, Tom talked to cover his embarrassment. +Something he wanted very much to say got itself said. “I'm glad you +went to school and fitted yourself to be a lady,” he began. “I want you +should marry pretty soon now. I don't know whether you met any one at +school there or not. If you did and he's all right, it's all right with +me. I don't want you should marry an ordinary man, but a smart one, an +educated man, a gentleman. We Butterworths are going to be bigger and +bigger people here. If you get married to a good man, a smart one, I'll +build a house for you; not just a little house but a big place, the +biggest place Bidwell ever seen.” They came to the farm and Tom stopped +the buggy in the road. He shouted to a man in the barnyard who came +running for her bags. When she had got out of the buggy he immediately +turned the horse about and drove rapidly away. Her aunt, a large, moist +woman, met her on the steps leading to the front door, and embraced +her warmly. The words her father had just spoken ran a riotous course +through Clara's brain. She realized that for a year she had been +thinking of marriage, had been wanting some man to approach and talk of +marriage, but she had not thought of the matter in the way her father +had put it. The man had spoken of her as though she were a possession +of his that must be disposed of. He had a personal interest in her +marriage. It was in someway not a private matter, but a family affair. +It was her father's idea, she gathered, that she was to go into marriage +to strengthen what he called his position in the community, to help him +be some vague thing he called a big man. She wondered if he had some one +in mind and could not avoid being a little curious as to who it could +be. It had never occurred to her that her marriage could mean anything +to her father beyond the natural desire of the parent that his child +make a happy marriage. She began to grow angry at the thought of the way +in which her father had approached the subject, but was still curious to +know whether he had gone so far as to have some one in mind for the role +of husband, and thought she would try to find out from her aunt. The +strange farm hand came into the house with her bags and she followed him +upstairs to what had always been her own room. Her aunt came puffing at +her heels. The farm hand went away and she began to unpack, while the +older woman, her face very red, sat on the edge of the bed. “You ain't +been getting engaged to a man down there where you been to school, have +you, Clara?” she asked. + +Clara looked at her aunt and blushed; then became suddenly and furiously +angry. Dropping the bag she had opened to the floor, she ran out of the +room. At the door she stopped and turned on the surprised and startled +woman. “No, I haven't,” she declared furiously. “It's nobody's business +whether I have or not. I went to school for an education. I didn't go to +get me a man. If that's what you sent me for, why didn't you say so?” + +Clara hurried out of the house and into the barnyard. She went into all +of the barns, but there were no men about. Even the strange farm hand +who had carried her bags into the house had disappeared, and the stalls +in the horse and cattle barns were empty. Then she went into the orchard +and climbing a fence went through a meadow and into the wood to which +she had always fled, when as a girl on the farm she was troubled or +angry. For a long time she sat on a log beneath a tree and tried to +think her way through the new idea of marriage she had got from her +father's words. She was still angry and told herself that she would +leave home, would go to some city and get work. She thought of Kate +Chanceller who intended to be a doctor, and tried to picture herself +attempting something of the kind. It would take money for study. She +tried to imagine herself talking to her father about the matter and the +thought made her smile. Again she wondered if he had any definite person +in mind as her husband, and who it could be. She tried to check off her +father's acquaintances among the young men of Bidwell. “It must be some +new man who has come here, some one having something to do with one of +the factories,” she thought. + +After sitting on the log for a long time, Clara got up and walked under +the trees. The imaginary man, suggested to her mind by her father's +words, became every moment more and more a reality. Before her eyes +danced the laughing eyes of the young man who for a moment had lingered +beside her while Kate Chanceller talked to his companion that evening +when they had been challenged on the streets of Columbus. She remembered +the young school teacher, who had held her in his arms through a long +Sunday afternoon, and the day when, as an awakening maiden, she had +heard Jim Priest talking to the laborers in the barn about the sap that +ran up the tree. The afternoon slipped away and the shadows of the trees +lengthened. On such a day and alone there in the quiet wood, it was +impossible for her to remain in the angry mood in which she had left +the house. Over her father's farm brooded the passionate fulfillment +of summer. Before her, seen through the trees, lay yellow wheat fields, +ripe for the cutting; insects sang and danced in the air about her head; +a soft wind blew and made a gentle singing noise in the tops of the +trees; at her back among the trees a squirrel chattered; and two calves +came along a woodland path and stood for a long time staring at her with +their large gentle eyes. She arose and went out of the wood, crossed a +falling meadow and came to a rail fence surrounding a corn field. Jim +Priest was cultivating corn and when he saw her left his horses and came +to her. He took both her hands in his and pumped her arms up and down. +“Well, Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see you,” he said heartily. “Lord +A'mighty, I'm glad to see you.” The old farm hand pulled a long blade +of grass out of the ground beneath the fence and leaning against the +top rail began to chew it. He asked Clara the same question her aunt had +asked, but his asking did not annoy her. She laughed and shook her head. +“No, Jim,” she said, “I seem to have made a failure of going away to +school. I didn't get me a man. No one asked me, you see.” + +Both the woman and the old man became silent. Over the tops of the +young corn they could see down the hillside into the distant town. Clara +wondered if the man she was to marry was there. The idea of a marriage +with her had perhaps been suggested to his mind also. Her father, she +decided, was capable of that. He was evidently ready to go to any length +to see her safely married. She wondered why. When Jim Priest began to +talk, striving to explain his question, his words fitted oddly into the +thoughts she was having in regard to herself. “Now about marriage,” he +began, “you see now, I never done it. I didn't get married at all. I +don't know why. I wanted to and I didn't. I was afraid to ask, maybe. +I guess if you do it you're sorry you did and if you don't you're sorry +you didn't.” + +Jim went back to his team, and Clara stood by the fence and watched him +go down the long field and turn to come back along another of the paths +between the corn rows. When the horses came to where she stood, he +stopped again and looked at her. “I guess you'll get married pretty soon +now,” he said. The horses started on again and he held the cultivating +machine with one hand and looked back over his shoulder at her. “You're +one of the marrying kind,” he called. “You ain't like me. You don't +just think about things. You do 'em. You'll be getting yourself married +before very long. You are one of the kind that does.” + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +If many things had happened to Clara Butterworth in the three years +since that day when John May so rudely tripped her first hesitating +girlish attempt to run out to life, things had also happened to the +people she had left behind in Bidwell. In so short a space of time +her father, his business associate Steve Hunter, Ben Peeler the town +carpenter, Joe Wainsworth the harness maker, almost every man and woman +in town had become something different in his nature from the man or +woman bearing the same name she had known in her girlhood. + +Ben Peeler was forty years old when Clara went to Columbus to school. He +was a tall, slender, stoop-shouldered man who worked hard and was much +respected by his fellow townsmen. Almost any afternoon he might have +been seen going through Main Street, wearing his carpenter's apron and +with a carpenter's pencil stuck under his cap and balanced on his ear. +He went into Oliver Hall's hardware store and came out with a large +package of nails under his arm. A farmer who was thinking of building a +new barn stopped him in front of the post-office and for a half hour the +two men talked of the project. Ben put on his glasses, took the pencil +out of his cap and made some notation on the back of the package of +nails. “I'll do a little figuring; then I'll talk things over with you,” + he said. During the spring, summer and fall Ben had always employed +another carpenter and an apprentice, but when Clara came back to town +he was employing four gangs of six men each and had two foremen to watch +the work and keep it moving, while his son, who in other times would +also have been a carpenter, had become a salesman, wore fancy vests and +lived in Chicago. Ben was making money and for two years had not driven +a nail or held a saw in his hand. He had an office in a frame building +beside the New York Central tracks, south of Main Street, and employed a +book-keeper and a stenographer. In addition to carpentry he had embarked +in another business. Backed by Gordon Hart, he had become a lumber +dealer and bought and sold lumber under the firm name of Peeler and +Hart. Almost every day cars of lumber were unloaded and stacked under +sheds in the yard back of his office. He was no longer satisfied +with his income as a workman but, under the influence of Gordon Hart, +demanded also a swinging profit on the building materials. Ben now drove +about town in a vehicle called a buckboard and spent the entire day +hurrying from job to job. He had no time now to stop for a half hour's +gossip with a prospective builder of a barn, and did not come to loaf in +Birdie Spinks' drug-store at the end of the day. In the evening he went +to the lumber office and Gordon Hart came over from the bank. The two +men figured on jobs to be built, rows of workingmen's houses, sheds +alongside one of the new factories, large frame houses for the +superintendents and other substantial men of the town's new enterprises. +In the old days Ben had been glad to go occasionally into the country on +a barn-building job. He had liked the country food, the gossip with +the farmer and his men at the noon hour and the drive back and forth to +town, mornings and evenings. While he was in the country he managed to +make a deal for his winter potatoes, hay for his horse, and perhaps a +barrel of cider to drink on winter evenings. Now he had no time to think +of such things. When a farmer came to see him he shook his head. “Get +some one else to figure on your job,” he advised. “You'll save money +by getting a barn-building carpenter. I can't bother. I have too many +houses to build.” Ben and Gordon sometimes worked in the lumber office +until midnight. On warm still nights the sweet smell of new-cut boards +filled the air of the yard and crept in through the open windows, but +the two men, intent on their figures, did not notice. In the early +evening one or two teams came back to the yard to finish hauling lumber +to a job where the men were to work on the next day. The voices of the +men, talking and singing as they loaded their wagons, broke the silence. +Later the wagons loaded high with boards went creaking away. When the +two men grew tired and sleepy, they locked the office and walked through +the yard to the driveway that led to a residence street. Ben was nervous +and irritable. One evening they found three men, sleeping on a pile of +boards in the yard, and drove them out. It gave both men something to +think about. Gordon Hart went home and before he slept made up his mind +that he would not let another day go by without getting the lumber in +the yard more heavily insured. Ben had not handled affairs long enough +to come quickly to so sensible a decision. All night he rolled and +tumbled about in his bed. “Some tramp with his pipe will set the place +afire,” he thought. “I'll lose all the money I've made.” For a long time +he did not think of the simple expedient of hiring a watchman to drive +sleepy and penniless wanderers away, and charging enough more for his +lumber to cover the additional expense. He got out of bed and dressed, +thinking he would get his shotgun out of the barn and go back to the +yard and spend the night. Then he undressed and got into bed again. +“I can't work all day and spend my nights down there,” he thought +resentfully. When at last he slept, he dreamed of sitting in the lumber +yard in the darkness with the gun in his hand. A man came toward him and +he discharged the gun and killed the man. With the inconsistency common +to the physical aspect of dreams, the darkness passed away and it was +daylight. The man he had thought dead was not quite dead. Although +the whole side of his head was torn away, he still breathed. His mouth +opened and closed convulsively. A dreadful illness took possession of +the carpenter. He had an elder brother who had died when he was a boy, +but the face of the man on the ground was the face of his brother. Ben +sat up in bed and shouted. “Help, for God's sake, help! It's my own +brother. Don't you see, it is Harry Peeler?” he cried. His wife awoke +and shook him. “What's the matter, Ben,” she asked anxiously. “What's +the matter?” “It was a dream,” he said, and let his head drop wearily on +the pillow. His wife went to sleep again, but he stayed awake the +rest of the night. When on the next morning Gordon Hart suggested the +insurance idea, he was delighted. “That settles it of course,” he said +to himself. “It's simple enough, you see. That settles everything.” + +In his shop on Main Street Joe Wainsworth had plenty to do after +the boom came to Bidwell. Many teams were employed in the hauling of +building materials; loads of paving brick were being carted from cars to +where they were to be laid on Main Street; and teams hauled earth from +where the new Main Street sewer was being dug and from the freshly dug +cellars of houses. Never had there been so many teams employed and so +much repairing of harness to do. Joe's apprentice had left him, had been +carried off by the rush of young men to the places where the boom had +arrived earlier. For a year Joe had worked alone and had then employed +a journeyman harness maker who had drifted into town drunk and who got +drunk every Saturday evening. The new man was an odd character. He had a +faculty for making money, but seemed to care little about making it +for himself. Within a week after he came to town he knew every one in +Bidwell. His name was Jim Gibson and he had no sooner come to work +for Joe than a contest arose between them. The contest concerned the +question of who was to run the shop. For a time Joe asserted himself. He +growled at the men who brought harness in to be repaired, and refused to +make promises as to when the work would be done. Several jobs were taken +away and sent to nearby towns. Then Jim Gibson asserted himself. When +one of the teamsters who had come to town with the boom came with a +heavy work harness on his shoulder, he went to meet him. The harness was +thrown with a rattling crash on the floor and Jim examined it. “Oh, the +devil, that's an easy job,” he declared. “We'll fix that up in a jiffy. +You can have it to-morrow afternoon if you want it.” + +For a time Jim made it a practice to come to where Joe stood at work at +his bench and consult with him regarding prices to be charged for +work. Then he returned to the customer and charged more than Joe had +suggested. After a few weeks he slopped consulting Joe at all. “You're +no good,” he exclaimed, laughing. “What you're doing in business I don't +know.” The old harness maker stared at him for a minute and then went +to his bench and to work. “Business,” he muttered, “what do I know about +business? I'm a harness maker, I am.” + +After Jim came to work for him, Joe made in one year almost twice the +amount he had lost in the failure of the plant-setting machine factory. +The money was not invested in stock of any factory but lay in the bank. +Still he was not happy. All day Jim Gibson, whom Joe had never dared +tell the tales of his triumph as a workman and to whom he did not brag +as he had formerly done to his apprentices, talked of his ability to get +the best of customers. He had, he declared, managed, in the last place +he had worked before he came to Bidwell, to sell a good many sets of +harness as handmade that were in reality made in a factory. “It isn't +like the old times,” he said, “things are changing. We used to sell +harness only to farmers or to teamsters right in our towns who owned +their own horses. We always knew the men we did business with and always +would know them. Now it's different. The men now, you see, who are here +in this town to work--well, next month or next year they'll be somewhere +else. All they care about you and me is how much work they can get for +a dollar. Of course they talk big about honesty and all that stuff, but +that's only their guff. They think maybe we'll fall for it and they'll +get more for the money they pay out. That's what they're up to.” + +Jim tried hard to make his version of how the shop should be run clear +to his employer. Every day he talked for hours regarding the matter. He +tried to get Joe to put in a stock of factory-made harness and when +he was unsuccessful was angry. “O the devil,” he cried. “Can't you +understand what you're up against? The factories are bound to win. +For why? Look here, there can't any one but some old moss-back who has +worked around horses all his life tell the difference between hand- and +machine-sewed harness. The machine-made can be sold cheaper. It looks +all right and the factories are able to put on a lot of do-dads. That +catches the young fellows. It's good business. Quick sales and profits, +that's the story.” Jim laughed and then said something that made the +shivers run up and down Joe's back. “If I had the money and was steady +I'd start a shop in this town and show you up,” he said. “I'd pretty +near run you out. The trouble with me is I wouldn't stick to business +if I had the money. I tried it once and made money; then when I got a +little ahead I shut up the shop and went on a big drunk. I was no good +for a month. When I work for some one else I'm all right. I get drunk +on Saturdays and that satisfies me. I like to work and scheme for money, +but it ain't any good to me when I get it and never will be. What I want +you to do here is to shut your eyes and give me a chance. That's all I +ask. Just shut your eyes and give me a chance.” + +All day Joe sat astride his harness maker's horse, and when he was not +at work, stared out through a dirty window into an alleyway and tried +to understand Jim's idea of what a harness maker's attitude should be +toward his customers, now that new times had come. He felt very old. +Although Jim was as old in years lived as himself, he seemed very young. +He began to be a little afraid of the man. He could not understand why +the money, nearly twenty-five hundred dollars he had put in the bank +during the two years Jim had been with him, seemed so unimportant and +the twelve hundred dollars he had earned slowly after twenty years of +work seemed so important. As there was much repair work always waiting +to be done in the shop, he did not go home to lunch, but every day +carried a few sandwiches to the shop in his pocket. At the noon hour, +when Jim had gone to his boarding-house, he was alone, and if no one +came in, he was happy. It seemed to him the best time of the day. +Every few minutes he went to the front door to look out. The quiet Main +Street, on which his shop had faced since he was a young man just come +home from his trade adventures, and which had always been such a sleepy +place at the noon hour in the summer, was now like a battle-field from +which an army had retreated. A great gash had been cut in the street +where the new sewer was to be laid. Swarms of workingmen, most of them +strangers, had come into Main Street from the factories by the railroad +tracks. They stood in groups in lower Main Street by Wymer's tobacco +store. Some of them had gone into Ben Head's saloon for a glass of beer +and came out wiping their mustaches. The men who were digging the sewer, +foreign men, Italians he had heard, sat on the banks of dry earth in the +middle of the street. Their dinner pails were held between their legs +and as they ate they talked in a strange language. He remembered the day +he had come to Bidwell with his bride, the girl he had met on his trade +journey and who had waited for him until he had mastered his trade and +had a shop of his own. He had gone to New York State to get her and had +arrived back in Bidwell at noon on just such another summer day. There +had not been many people about, but every one had known him. On that +day every one had been his friend. Birdie Spinks rushed out of his drug +store and had insisted that he and his bride go home to dinner with him. +Every one had wanted them to come to his house for dinner. It had been a +happy, joyous time. + +The harness maker had always been sorry his wife had borne him no +children. He had said nothing and had always pretended he did not want +them and now, at last, he was glad they had not come. He went back to +his bench and to work, hoping Jim would be late in getting back from +lunch. The shop was very quiet after the activity of the street that +had so bewildered him. It was, he thought, like a retreat, almost like +a church when you went to the door and looked in on a week day. He had +done that once and had liked the empty silent church better than he did +a church with a preacher and a lot of people in it. He had told his wife +about the matter. “It was like the shop in the evening when I've got a +job of work done and the boy has gone home,” he had said. + +The harness maker looked out through the open door of his shop and saw +Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter going along Main Street, engaged in +earnest conversation. Steve had a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth +and Tom had on a fancy vest. He thought again of the money he had lost +in the plant-setting machine venture and was furious. The noon hour was +spoiled and he was almost glad when Jim came back from his mid-day meal. + +The position in which he found himself in the shop amused Jim Gibson. He +chuckled to himself as he waited on the customers who came in, and as +he worked at the bench. One day when he came back along Main Street from +the noon meal, he decided to try an experiment. “If I lose my job what +difference does it make?” he asked himself. He stopped at a saloon and +had a drink of whisky. When he got to the shop he began to scold his +employer, to threaten him as though he were his apprentice. Swaggering +suddenly in, he walked to where Joe was at work and slapped him roughly +on the back. “Come, cheer up, old daddy,” he said. “Get the gloom out of +you. I'm tired of your muttering and growling at things.” + +The employee stepped back and watched his employer. Had Joe ordered him +out of the shop he would not have been surprised, and as he said later +when he told Ben Head's bartender of the incident, would not have cared +very much. The fact that he did not care, no doubt saved him. Joe was +frightened. For just a moment he was so angry he could not speak, and +then he remembered that if Jim left him he would have to wait on trade +and would have to dicker with the strange teamsters regarding the +repairing of the work harness. Bending over the bench he worked for an +hour in silence. Then, instead of demanding an explanation of the rude +familiarity with which Jim had treated him, he began to explain. “Now +look here, Jim,” he pleaded, “don't you pay any attention to me. You do +as you please here. Don't you pay any attention to me.” + +Jim said nothing, but a smile of triumph lit up his face. Late in the +afternoon he left the shop. “If any one comes in, tell them to wait. I +won't be gone very long,” he said insolently. Jim went into Ben Head's +saloon and told the bartender how his experiment had come out. The +story was later told from store to store up and down the Main Street of +Bidwell. “He was like a boy who has been caught with his hand in the jam +pot,” Jim explained. “I can't think what's the matter with him. Had I +been in his, shoes I would have kicked Jim Gibson out of the shop. +He told me not to pay any attention to him and to run the shop as I +pleased. Now what do you think of that? Now what do you think of that +for a man who owns his own shop and has money in the bank? I tell you, +I don't know how it is, but I don't work for Joe any more. He works for +me. Some day you come in the shop casual-like and I'll boss him around +for you. I'm telling you I don't know how it is that it come about, but +I'm the boss of the shop as sure as the devil.” + +All of Bidwell was looking at itself and asking itself questions. Ed +Hall, who had been a carpenter's apprentice earning but a few dollars +a week with his master, Ben Peeler, was now foreman in the corn-cutter +factory and received a salary of twenty-five dollars every Saturday +night. It was more money than he had ever dreamed of earning in a week. +On pay nights he dressed himself in his Sunday clothes and had himself +shaved at Joe Trotter's barber shop. Then he went along Main Street, +fingering the money in his pocket and half fearing he would suddenly +awaken and find it all a dream. He went into Wymer's tobacco store to +get a cigar, and old Claude Wymer came to wait on him. On the second +Saturday evening after he got his new position, the tobacconist, a +rather obsequious man, called him Mr. Hall. It was the first time such a +thing had happened and it upset him a little. He laughed and made a joke +of it. “Don't get high and mighty,” he said, and turned to wink at the +men loafing in the shop. Later he thought about the matter and was sorry +he had not accepted the new title without protest. “Well, I'm foreman, +and a lot of the young fellows I've always known and fooled around with +will be working under me,” he told himself. “I can't be getting thick +with them.” + +Ed walked along the street feeling very keenly the importance of his new +place in the community. Other young fellows in the factory were getting +a dollar and a half a day. At the end of the week he got twenty-five +dollars, almost three times as much. The money was an indication of +superiority. There could be no doubt about that. Ever since he had been +a boy he had heard older men speak respectfully of men who possessed +money. “Get on in the world,” they said to young men, when they talked +seriously. Among themselves they did not pretend that they did not want +money. “It's money makes the mare go,” they said. + +Down Main Street to the New York Central tracks Ed went, and then turned +out of the street and disappeared into the station. The evening train +had passed and the place was deserted. He went into the dimly lighted +waiting-room. An oil lamp, turned low, and fastened by a bracket to +the wall made a little circle of light in a corner. The room was like +a church in the early morning of a wintry day, cold and still. He went +hurriedly to the light, and taking the roll of money from his pocket, +counted it. Then he went out of the room and along the station platform +almost to Main Street, but was not satisfied. On an impulse he returned +to the waiting room again and, late in the evening on his way home, he +stopped there for a final counting of the money before he went to bed. + +Peter Fry was a blacksmith and had a son who was clerk in the Bidwell +Hotel. He was a tall young fellow with curly yellow hair and watery blue +eyes and smoked cigarettes, a habit that was an offense to the nostrils +of the men of his times. His name was Jacob, but he was called in +derision Fizzy Fry. The young man's mother was dead and he got his meals +at the hotel and at night slept on a cot in the hotel office. He had a +passion for gayly colored neckties and waistcoats and was forever trying +unsuccessfully to attract the attention of the town girls. When he +and his father met on the street, they did not speak to each other. +Sometimes the father stopped and stared at his son. “How did I happen to +be the father of a thing like that?” he muttered aloud. + +The blacksmith was a square-shouldered, heavily built man with a bushy +black beard and a tremendous voice. When he was a young man he sang in +the Methodist choir, but after his wife died he stopped going to church +and began putting his voice to other uses. He smoked a short clay pipe +that had become black with age and that at night could not be seen +against his black curly beard. Smoke rolled out of his mouth in clouds +and appeared to come up out of his belly. He was like a volcanic +mountain and was called, by the men who loafed in Birdie Spinks' drug +store, Smoky Pete. + +Smoky Pete was in more ways than one like a mountain given to eruptions. +He did not get drunk, but after his wife died he got into the habit of +having two or three drinks of whisky every evening. The whisky inflamed +his mind and he strode up and down Main Street, ready to quarrel with +any one his eye lighted upon. He got into the habit of roaring at his +fellow citizens and making ribald jokes at their expense. Every one was +a little afraid of him and he became in an odd way the guardian of the +town morals. Sandy Ferris, a house painter, became a drunkard and did +not support his family. Smoky Pete abused him in the public streets +and in the sight of all men. “You cheap thing, warming your belly with +whisky while jour children freeze, why don't you try being a man?” he +shouted at the house painter, who staggered into a side street and went +to sleep off his intoxication in a stall in Clyde Neighbors' livery +barn. The blacksmith kept at the painter until the whole town took up +his cry and the saloons became ashamed to accept his custom. He was +forced to reform. + +The blacksmith did not, however, discriminate in the choice of victims. +His was not the spirit of the reformer. A merchant of Bidwell, who had +always been highly respected and who was an elder in his church, went +one evening to the county seat and there got into the company of a +notorious woman known throughout the county as Nell Hunter. The two went +into a little room at the back of a saloon and were seen by two Bidwell +young men who had gone to the county seat for an evening of adventure. +When the merchant, named Pen Beck, realized he had been seen, he was +afraid the tale of his indiscretion would be carried to his home town, +and left the woman to join the young men. He was not a drinking man, but +began at once to buy drinks for his companions. The three got very drunk +and drove home together late at night in a rig the young men had hired +for the occasion from Clyde Neighbors. On the way the merchant kept +trying to explain his presence in the company of the woman. “Don't +say anything about it,” he urged. “It would be misunderstood. I have a +friend whose son has been taken in by the woman. I was trying to get her +to let him alone.” + +The two young men were delighted that they had caught the merchant off +his guard. “It's all right,” they assured him. “Be a good fellow and we +won't tell your wife or the minister of your church.” When they had all +the drinks they could carry, they got the merchant into the buggy and +began to whip the horse. They had driven half way to Bidwell and all of +them had fallen into a drunken sleep, when the horse became frightened +at something in the road and ran away. The buggy was overturned and they +were all thrown into the road. One of the young men had an arm broken +and Pen Beck's coat was almost torn in two. He paid the young man's +doctor's bill and settled with Clyde Neighbors for the damage to the +buggy. + +For a long time the story of the merchant's adventure did not leak out, +and when it did, but a few intimate friends of the young men knew it. +Then it reached the ears of Smoky Pete. On the day he heard it he could +hardly bear to wait until evening came. He hurried to Ben Head's saloon, +had two drinks of whisky and then went to stand with the loafers before +Birdie Spinks' drug store. At half past seven Pen Beck turned into Main +Street from Cherry Street, where he lived. When he was more than three +blocks away from the crowd of men before the drug store, Smoky Pete's +roaring voice began to question him. “Well, Penny, my lad, so you went +for a night among the ladies?” he shouted. “You've been fooling around +with my girl, Nell Hunter, over at the county seat. I'd like to know +what you mean. You'll have to make an explanation to me.” + +The merchant stopped and stood on the sidewalk, unable to decide whether +to face his tormentor or flee. It was just at the quiet time of the +evening when the housewives of the town had finished their evening's +work and stood resting by the kitchen doors. It seemed to Pen Beck that +Smoky Pete's voice could be heard for a mile. He decided to face it out +and if necessary to fight the blacksmith. As he came hurriedly toward +the group before the drug store, Smoky Pete's voice took up the story of +the merchant's wild night. He stepped out from the men in front of the +store and seemed to be addressing himself to the whole street. Clerks, +merchants, and customers rushed out of the stores. “Well,” he cried, “so +you made a night of it with my girl Nell Hunter. When you sat with her +in the back room of the saloon you didn't know I was there. I was hidden +under a table. If you'd done anything more than bite her on the neck I'd +have come out and called you to time.” + +Smoky Pete broke into a roaring laugh and waved his arms to the people +gathered in the street and wondering what it was all about. It was for +him one of the really delicious spots of his life. He tried to explain +to the people what he was talking about. “He was with Nell Hunter in +the back room of a saloon over at the county seat,” he shouted. “Edgar +Duncan and Dave Oldham saw him there. He came home with them and the +horse ran away. He didn't commit adultery. I don't want you to think +that happened. All that happened was he bit my best girl, Nell Hunter, +on the neck. That's what makes me so mad. I don't like to have her +bitten by him. She is my girl and belongs to me.” + +The blacksmith, forerunner of the modern city newspaper reporter in +his love of taking the center of the stage in order to drag into public +sight the misfortunes of his fellows, did not finish his tirade. The +merchant, white with anger, rushed up and struck him a blow on the chest +with his small and rather fat fist. The blacksmith knocked him into the +gutter and later, when he was arrested, went proudly off to the office +of the town mayor and paid his fine. + +It was said by the enemies of Smoky Pete that he had not taken a bath +for years. He lived alone in a small frame house at the edge of town. +Behind his house was a large field. The house itself was unspeakably +dirty. When the factories came to town, Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter +bought the field intending to cut it into building lots. They wanted to +buy the blacksmith's house and finally did secure it by paying a high +price. He agreed to move out within a year but after the money was paid +repented and wished he had not sold. A rumor began to run about town +connecting the name of Tom Butterworth with that of Fanny Twist, the +town milliner. It was said the rich farmer had been seen coming out +of her shop late at night. The blacksmith also heard another story +whispered in the streets. Louise Trucker, the farmer's daughter who had +at one time been seen creeping through a side street in the company of +young Steve Hunter, had gone to Cleveland and it was said she had become +the proprietor of a prosperous house of ill fame. Steve's money, it +was declared, had been used to set her up in business. The two stories +offered unlimited opportunity for expansion in the blacksmith's mind, +but while he was preparing himself to do what he called bringing the two +men down in the sight and hearing of the whole town, a thing happened +that upset his plans. His son Fizzy Fry left his place as clerk in the +hotel and went to work in the corn-cutting machine factory. One day +his father saw him coming from the factory at noon with a dozen other +workmen. The young man had on overalls and smoked a pipe. When he saw +his father he stopped, and when the other men had gone on, explained his +sudden transformation. “I'm in the shop now, but I won't be there long,” + he said proudly. “You know Tom Butterworth stays at the hotel? Well, +he's given me a chance. I got to stay in the shop for a while to learn +about things. After that I'm to have a chance as shipping clerk. Then +I'll be a traveler on the road.” He looked at his father and his voice +broke. “You haven't thought very much of me, but I'm not so bad,” he +said. “I don't want to be a sissy, but I'm not very strong. I worked at +the hotel because there wasn't anything else I thought I could do.” + +Peter Fry went home to his house but could not eat the food he had +cooked for himself on the tiny stove in the kitchen. He went outdoors +and stood for a long time, looking out across the cow-pasture Tom +Butterworth and Steve Hunter had bought and that they proposed should +become a part of the rapidly growing city. He had himself taken no part +in the new impulses that had come upon the town, except that he had +taken advantage of the failure of the town's first industrial effort +to roar insults at those of his townsmen who had lost their money. One +evening he and Ed Hall had got into a fight about the matter on Main +Street, and the blacksmith had been compelled to pay another fine. +Now he wondered what was the matter with him. He had evidently made a +mistake about his son. Had he made a mistake about Tom Butterworth and +Steve Hunter? + +The perplexed man went back to his shop and all the afternoon worked in +silence. His heart had been set on the creation of a dramatic scene on +Main Street, when he openly attacked the two most prominent men of the +town, and he even pictured himself as likely to be put in the town jail +where he would have an opportunity to roar things through the iron +bars at the citizens gathered in the street. In anticipation of such an +event, he had prepared himself to attack the reputation of other people. +He had never attacked women but, if he were locked up, he intended to do +so. John May had once told him that Tom Butterworth's daughter, who had +been away to college for a year, had been sent away because she was +in the family way. John May had claimed he was responsible for her +condition. Several of Tom's farm hands he said had been on intimate +terms with the girl. The blacksmith had told himself that if he got +into trouble for publicly attacking the father he would be justified in +telling what he knew about the daughter. + +The blacksmith did not come into Main Street that evening. As he went +home from work he saw Tom Butterworth standing with Steve Hunter before +the post-office. For several weeks Tom had been spending most of his +time away from town, had only appeared in town for a few hours at +a time, and had not been seen on the streets in the evening. The +blacksmith had been waiting to catch both men on the street at one time. +Now that this opportunity had come, he began to be afraid he would not +dare take it. “What right have I to spoil my boy's chances?” he asked +himself, as he went rather heavily along the street toward his own +house. + +It rained on that evening and for the first time in years Smoky Pete did +not go into Main Street. He told himself that the rain kept him at home, +but the thought did not satisfy him. All evening he moved restlessly +about the house and at half past eight went to bed. He did not, however, +sleep, but lay with his trousers on and with his pipe in his mouth, +trying to think. Every few minutes he took the pipe from his mouth, blew +out a cloud of smoke and swore viciously. At ten o'clock the farmer, who +had owned the cow-pasture back of his house and who still kept his cows +there, saw his neighbor tramping about in the rain in the field and +saying things he had planned to say on Main Street in the hearing of the +entire town. + +The farmer also had gone to bed early, but at ten o'clock he decided +that, as the rain continued to fall and as it was growing somewhat cold, +he had better get up and let his cows into the barn. He did not dress, +but threw a blanket about his shoulders and went out without a light. +He let down the bars separating the field from the barnyard and then saw +and heard Smoky Pete in the field. The blacksmith walked back and forth +in the darkness, and as the farmer stood by the fence, began to talk in +a loud voice. “Well, Tom Butterworth, you're fooling around with Fanny +Twist,” he cried into the silence and emptiness of the night. “You're +sneaking into her shop late at night, eh? Steve Hunter has set Louise +Trucker up in business in a house in Cleveland. Are you and Fanny Twist +going to open a house here? Is that the next industrial enterprise we're +to have here in this town?” + +The amazed farmer stood in the rain in the darkness, listening to the +words of his neighbor. The cows came through the gate and went into the +barn. His bare legs were cold and he drew them alternately up under the +blanket. For ten minutes Peter Fry tramped up and down in the field. +Once he came quite near the farmer, who drew himself down beside the +fence and listened, filled with amazement and fright. He could dimly see +the tall, old man striding along and waving his arms about. When he had +said many bitter, hateful things regarding the two most prominent men +of Bidwell, he began to abuse Tom Butterworth's daughter, calling her a +bitch and the daughter of a dog. The farmer waited until Smoky Pete +had gone back to his house and, when he saw a light in the kitchen, and +fancied he could also see his neighbor cooking food at a stove, he went +again into his own house. He had himself never quarreled with Smoky Pete +and was glad. He was glad also that the field at the back of his house +had been sold. He intended to sell the rest of his farm and move west to +Illinois. “The man's crazy,” he told himself. “Who but a crazy man would +talk that way in the darkness? I suppose I ought to report him and get +him locked up, but I guess I'll forget what I heard. A man who would +talk like that about nice respectable people would do anything. He might +set fire to my house some night or something like that. I guess I'll +just forget what I heard.” + + + + +BOOK FOUR + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +After the success of his corn cutting machine and the apparatus for +unloading coal cars that brought him a hundred thousand dollars in cash, +Hugh could not remain the isolated figure he had been all through the +first several years of his life in the Ohio community. From all sides +men reached out their hands to him: and more than one woman thought she +would like to be his wife. All men lead their lives behind a wall of +misunderstanding they themselves have built, and most men die in silence +and unnoticed behind the walls. Now and then a man, cut off from his +fellows by the peculiarities of his nature, becomes absorbed in doing +something that is impersonal, useful, and beautiful. Word of his +activities is carried over the walls. His name is shouted and is carried +by the wind into the tiny inclosure in which other men live and in which +they are for the most part absorbed in doing some petty task for the +furtherance of their own comfort. Men and women stop their complaining +about the unfairness and inequality of life and wonder about the man +whose name they have heard. + +From Bidwell, Ohio, to farms all over the Middle West, Hugh McVey's +name had been carried. His machine for cutting corn was called the McVey +Corn-Cutter. The name was printed in white letters against a background +of red on the side of the machine. Farmer boys in the States of Indiana, +Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and all the great corn-growing States +saw it and in idle moments wondered what kind of man had invented the +machine they operated. A Cleveland newspaper man came to Bidwell and +went to Pickleville to see Hugh. He wrote a story telling of Hugh's +early poverty and his efforts to become an inventor. When the reporter +talked to Hugh he found the inventor so embarrassed and uncommunicative +that he gave up trying to get a story. Then he went to Steve Hunter who +talked to him for an hour. The story made Hugh a strikingly romantic +figure. His people, the story said, came out of the mountains of +Tennessee, but they were not poor whites. It was suggested that they +were of the best English stock. There was a tale of Hugh's having in +his boyhood contrived some kind of an engine that carried water from a +valley to a mountain community; another of his having seen a clock in +a store in a Missouri town and of his having later made a clock of wood +for his parents; and a tale of his having gone into the forest with his +father's gun, shot a wild hog and carried it down the mountain side on +his shoulder in order to get money to buy school books. After the tale +was printed the advertising manager of the corn-cutter factory got Hugh +to go with him one day to Tom Butterworth's farm. Many bushels of corn +were brought out of the corn cribs and a great mountain of corn was +built on the ground at the edge of a field. Back of the mountain of corn +was a corn field just coming into tassel. Hugh was told to climb up on +the mountain and sit there. Then his picture was taken. It was sent to +newspapers all over the West with copies of the biography cut from the +Cleveland paper. Later both the picture and the biography were used in +the catalogue that described the McVey Corn-Cutter. + +The cutting of corn and putting it in shocks against the time of the +husking is heavy work. In recent times it has come about that much of +the corn grown on mid-American prairie lands is not cut. The corn is +left standing in the fields, and men go through it in the late fall to +pick the yellow ears. The workers throw the corn over their shoulders +into a wagon driven by a boy, who follows them in their slow progress, +and it is then hauled away to the cribs. When a field has been picked, +the cattle are turned in and all winter they nibble at the dry corn +blades and tramp the stalks into the ground. All day long on the wide +western prairies when the gray fall days have come, you may see the men +and the horses working their way slowly through the fields. Like tiny +insects they crawl across the immense landscapes. After them in the late +fall and in the winter when the prairies are covered with snow, come the +cattle. They are brought from the far West in cattle cars and after they +have nibbled the corn blades all day, are taken to barns and stuffed +to bursting with corn. When they are fat they are sent to the great +killing-pens in Chicago, the giant city of the prairies. In the still +fall nights, as you stand on prairie roads or in the barnyard back of +one of the farm houses, you may hear the rustling of the dry corn blades +and then the crash of the heavy bodies of the beasts going forward as +they nibble and trample the corn. + +In earlier days the method of corn harvesting was different. There was +poetry in the operation then as there is now, but it was set to another +rhythm. When the corn was ripe men went into the fields with heavy corn +knives and cut the stalks of corn close to the ground. The stalks were +cut with the right hand swinging the corn knife and carried on the left +arm. All day a man carried a heavy load of the stalks from which yellow +ears hung down. When the load became unbearably heavy it was carried to +the shock, and when all the corn was cut in a certain area, the shock +was made secure by binding it with tarred rope or with a tough stalk +twisted to take the place of the rope. When the cutting was done the +long rows of stalks stood up in the fields like sentinels, and the men +crawled off to the farmhouses and to bed, utterly weary. + +Hugh's machine took all of the heavier part of the work away. It cut +the corn near the ground and bound it into bundles that fell upon a +platform. Two men followed the machine, one to drive the horses and the +other to place the bundles of stalks against the shocks and to bind the +completed shocks. The men went along smoking their pipes and talking. +The horses stopped and the driver stared out over the prairies. His arms +did not ache with weariness and he had time to think. The wonder and +mystery of the wide open places got a little into his blood. At night +when the work was done and the cattle fed and made comfortable in the +barns, he did not go at once to bed but sometimes went out of his house +and stood for a moment under the stars. + +This thing the brain of the son of a mountain man, the poor white of +the river town, had done for the people of the plains. The dreams he had +tried so hard to put away from him and that the New England woman +Sarah Shepard had told him would lead to his destruction had come to +something. The car-dumping apparatus, that had sold for two hundred +thousand dollars, had given Steve Hunter money to buy the plant-setting +machine factory, and with Tom Butterworth to start manufacturing the +corn-cutters, had affected the lives of fewer people, but it had carried +the Missourian's name into other places and had also made a new kind of +poetry in railroad yards and along rivers at the back of cities where +ships are loaded. On city nights as you lie in your houses you may hear +suddenly a long reverberating roar. It is a giant that has cleared his +throat of a carload of coal. Hugh McVey helped to free the giant. He +is still doing it. In Bidwell, Ohio, he is still at it, making new +inventions, cutting the bands that have bound the giant. He is one man +who had not been swept aside from his purpose by the complexity of life. + +That, however, came near happening. After the coming of his success, +a thousand little voices began calling to him. The soft hands of women +reached out of the masses of people about him, out of the old dwellers +and new dwellers in the city that was growing up about the factories +where his machines were being made in ever increasing numbers. New +houses were constantly being built along Turner's Pike that led down +to his workshop at Pickleville. Beside Allie Mulberry a dozen mechanics +were now employed in his experimental shop. They helped Hugh with a new +invention, a hay-loading apparatus on which he was at work, and also +made special tools for use in the corn-cutter factory and the new +bicycle factory. A dozen new houses had been built in Pickleville +itself. The wives of the mechanics lived in the houses and occasionally +one of them came to see her husband at Hugh's shop. He found it less and +less difficult to talk to people. The workmen, themselves not given to +the use of many words, did not think his habitual silence peculiar. They +were more skilled than Hugh in the use of tools and thought it rather an +accident that he had done what they had not done. As he had grown rich +by that road they also tried their hand at inventions. One of them made +a patent door hinge that Steve sold for ten thousand dollars, keeping +half the money for his services, as he had done in the case of Hugh's +car-dumping apparatus. At the noon hour the men hurried to their houses +to eat and then came back to loaf before the factory and smoke their +noonday pipes. They talked of money-making, of the price of food stuffs, +of the advisability of a man's buying a house on the partial payment +plan. Sometimes they talked of women and of their adventures with women. +Hugh sat by himself inside the door of the shop and listened. At night +after he had gone to bed he thought of what they had said. He lived in +a house belonging to a Mrs. McCoy, the widow of a railroad section hand +killed in a railroad accident, who had a daughter. The daughter, Rose +McCoy, taught a country school and most of the year was away from home +from Monday morning until late on Friday afternoon. Hugh lay in bed +thinking of what his workmen had said of women and heard the old +housekeeper moving about down stairs. Sometimes he got out of bed to sit +by an open window. Because she was the woman whose life touched his +most closely, he thought often of the school teacher. The McCoy house, a +small frame affair with a picket fence separating it from Turner's Pike, +stood with its back door facing the Wheeling Railroad. The section hands +on the railroad remembered their former fellow workman, Mike McCoy, +and wanted to be good to his widow. They sometimes dumped half decayed +railroad ties over the fence into a potato patch back of the house. At +night, when heavily loaded coal trains rumbled past, the brakemen heaved +large chunks of coal over the fence. The widow awoke whenever a train +passed. When one of the brakemen threw a chunk of coal he shouted and +his voice could be heard above the rumble of the coal cars. “That's for +Mike,” he cried. Sometimes one of the chunks knocked a picket out of the +fence and the next day Hugh put it back again. When the train had passed +the widow got out of bed and brought the coal into the house. “I don't +want to give the boys away by leaving it lying around in the daylight,” + she explained to Hugh. On Sunday mornings Hugh took a crosscut saw and +cut the railroad ties into lengths that would go into the kitchen stove. +Slowly his place in the McCoy household had become fixed, and when he +received the hundred thousand dollars and everybody, even the mother +and daughter, expected him to move, he did not do so. He tried +unsuccessfully to get the widow to take more money for his board and +when that effort failed, life in the McCoy household went as it had when +he was a telegraph operator receiving forty dollars a month. + +In the spring or fall, as he sat by his window at night, and when the +moon came up and the dust in Turner's Pike was silvery white, Hugh +thought of Rose McCoy, sleeping in some farmer's house. It did not occur +to him that she might also be awake and thinking. He imagined her lying +very still in bed. The section hand's daughter was a slender woman of +thirty with tired blue eyes and red hair. Her skin had been heavily +freckled in her youth and her nose was still freckled. Although Hugh did +not know it, she had once been in love with George Pike, the Wheeling +station agent, and a day had been set for the marriage. Then a +difficulty arose in regard to religious beliefs and George Pike married +another woman. It was then she became a school teacher. She was a woman +of few words and she and Hugh had never been alone together, but as +Hugh sat by the window on fall evenings, she lay awake in a room in the +farmer's house, where she was boarding during the school season, and +thought of him. She thought that had Hugh remained a telegraph operator +at forty dollars a month something might have happened between them. +Then she had other thoughts, or rather, sensations that had little to do +with thoughts. The room in which she lay was very still and a streak of +moonlight came in through the window. In the barn back of the farmhouse +she could hear the cattle stirring about. A pig grunted and in the +stillness that followed she could hear the farmer, who lay in the next +room with his wife, snoring gently. Rose was not very strong and the +physical did not rule in her nature, but she was very lonely and thought +that, like the farmer's wife, she would like to have a man to lie with +her. Warmth crept over her body and her lips became dry so that she +moistened them with her tongue. Had you been able to creep unobserved +into the room, you might have thought her much like a kitten lying by +a stove. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to dreams. In her +conscious mind she dreamed of being the wife of the bachelor Hugh McVey, +but deep within her there was another dream, a dream having its basis +in the memory of her one physical contact with a man. When they were +engaged to be married George had often kissed her. On one evening in the +spring they had gone to sit together on the grassy bank beside the creek +in the shadow of the pickle factory, then deserted and silent, and had +come near to going beyond kissing. Why nothing else had happened Rose +did not exactly know. She had protested, but her protest had been feeble +and had not expressed what she felt. George Pike had desisted in his +effort to press love upon her because they were to be married, and he +did not think it right to do what he thought of as taking advantage of a +girl. + +At any rate he did desist and long afterward, as she lay in the +farmhouse consciously thinking of her mother's bachelor boarder, her +thoughts became less and less distinct and when she had slipped off into +sleep, George Pike came back to her. She stirred uneasily in bed and +muttered words. Rough but gentle hands touched her cheeks and played in +her hair. As the night wore on and the position of the moon shifted, the +streak of moonlight lighted her face. One of her hands reached up and +seemed to be caressing the moonbeams. The weariness had all gone out of +her face. “Yes, George, I love you, I belong to you,” she whispered. + +Had Hugh been able to creep like the moonbeam into the presence of the +sleeping school teacher, he must inevitably have loved her. Also he +would perhaps have understood that it is best to approach human beings +directly and boldly as he had approached the mechanical problems by +which his days were filled. Instead he sat by his window in the presence +of the moonlit night and thought of women as beings utterly unlike +himself. Words dropped by Sarah Shepard to the awakening boy came +creeping back to his mind. He thought women were for other men but not +for him, and told himself he did not want a woman. + +And then in Turner's Pike something happened. A farmer boy, who had been +to town and who had the daughter of a neighbor in his buggy, stopped in +front of the house. A long freight train, grinding its way slowly past +the station, barred the passage along the road. He held the reins in one +hand and put the other about the waist of his companion. The two heads +sought each other and lips met. They clung to each other. The same moon +that shed its light on Rose McCoy in the distant farmhouse lighted the +open place where the lovers sat in the buggy in the road. Hugh had to +close his eyes and fight to put down an almost overpowering physical +hunger in himself. His mind still protested that women were not for him. +When his fancy made for him a picture of the school teacher Rose +McCoy sleeping in a bed, he saw her only as a chaste white thing to be +worshiped from afar and not to be approached, at least not by himself. +Again he opened his eyes and looked at the lovers whose lips still clung +together. His long slouching body stiffened and he sat up very straight +in his chair. Then he closed his eyes again. A gruff voice broke the +silence. “That's for Mike,” it shouted and a great chunk of coal thrown +from the train bounded across the potato patch and struck against the +back of the house. Downstairs he could hear old Mrs. McCoy getting out +of bed to secure the prize. The train passed and the lovers in the +buggy sank away from each other. In the silent night Hugh could hear the +regular beat of the hoofs of the farmer boy's horse as it carried him +and his woman away into the darkness. + +The two people, living in the house with the old woman who had almost +finished her life, and themselves trying feebly to reach out to life, +never got to anything very definite in relation to each other. One +Saturday evening in the late fall the Governor of the State came to +Bidwell. There was a parade to be followed by a political meeting and +the Governor, who was a candidate for re-election, was to address the +people from the steps of the town hall. Prominent citizens were to stand +on the steps beside the Governor. Steve and Tom were to be there, and +they had asked Hugh to come, but he had refused. He asked Rose McCoy +to go to the meeting with him, and they set out from the house at eight +o'clock and walked to town. Then they stood at the edge of the crowd +in the shadow of a store building and listened to the speech. To Hugh's +amazement his name was mentioned. The Governor spoke of the prosperity +of the town, indirectly hinting that it was due to the political +sagacity of the party of which he was a representative, and then +mentioned several individuals also partly responsible. “The whole +country is sweeping forward to new triumphs under our banner,” he +declared, “but not every community is so fortunate as I find you here. +Labor is employed at good wages. Life here is fruitful and happy. You +are fortunate here in having among you such business men as Steven +Hunter and Thomas Butterworth; and in the inventor Hugh McVey you have +one of the greatest intellects and the most useful men that ever lived +to help lift the burden off the shoulder of labor. What his brain is +doing for labor, our party is doing in another way. The protective +tariff is really the father of modern prosperity.” + +The speaker paused and a cheer arose from the crowd. Hugh took hold +of the school teacher's arm and drew her away down a side street. They +walked home in silence, but when they got to the house and were about +to go in, the school teacher hesitated. She wanted to ask Hugh to walk +about in the darkness with her but did not have the courage of her +desires. As they stood at the gate and as the tall man with the long +serious face looked down at her, she remembered the speaker's words. +“How could he care for me? How could a man like him care anything for a +homely little school teacher like me?” she asked herself. Aloud she said +something quite different. As they had come along Turner's Pike she had +made up her mind she would boldly suggest a walk under the trees along +Turner's Pike beyond the bridge, and had told herself that she would +later lead him to the place beside the stream and in the shadow of the +old pickle factory where she and George Pike had come so near being +lovers. Instead she hesitated for a moment by the gate and then laughed +awkwardly and passed in. “You should be proud. I would be proud if I +could be spoken of like that. I don't see why you keep living here in a +cheap little house like ours,” she said. + +On a warm spring Sunday night during the year in which Clara Butterworth +came back to Bidwell to live, Hugh made what was for him an almost +desperate effort to approach the school teacher. It had been a rainy +afternoon and Hugh had spent a part of it in the house. He came over +from his shop at noon and went to his room. When she was at home the +school teacher occupied a room next his own. The mother who seldom left +the house had on that day gone to the country to visit a brother. The +daughter got dinner for herself and Hugh and he tried to help her wash +the dishes. A plate fell out of his hands and its breaking seemed to +break the silent, embarrassed mood that had possession of them. For a +few minutes they were children and acted like children. Hugh picked +up another plate and the school teacher told him to put it down. He +refused. “You're as awkward as a puppy. How you ever manage to do +anything over at that shop of yours is more than I know.” + +Hugh tried to keep hold of the plate which the school teacher tried to +snatch away and for a few minutes they struggled laughing. Her cheeks +were flushed and Hugh thought she looked bewitching. An impulse he +had never had before came to him. He wanted to shout at the top of his +lungs, throw the plate at the ceiling, sweep all of the dishes off the +table and hear them crash on the floor, play like some huge animal +loose in a tiny world. He looked at Rose and his hands trembled from the +strength of the strange impulse. As he stood staring she took the plate +out of his hand and went into the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do +he put on his hat and went for a walk. Later he went to the shop and +tried to work, but his hand trembled when he tried to hold a tool and +the hay-loading apparatus on which he was at work seemed suddenly a very +trivial and unimportant thing. + +At four o'clock Hugh got back to the house and found it apparently +empty, although the door leading to Turner's Pike was open. The rain +had stopped falling and the sun struggled to work its way through the +clouds. He went upstairs to his own room and sat on the edge of his bed. +The conviction that the daughter of the house was in her room next door +came to him, and although the thought violated all the beliefs he had +ever held regarding women in relation to himself, he decided that she +had gone to her room to be near him when he came in. For some reason he +knew that if he went to her door and knocked she would not be surprised +and would not refuse him admission. He took off his shoes and set +them gently on the floor. Then he went on tiptoes out into the little +hallway. The ceiling was so low that he had to stoop to avoid knocking +his head against it. He raised his hand intending to knock on the door, +and then lost courage. Several times he went into the hallway with the +same intent, and each time returned noiselessly to his own room. He sat +in the chair by the window and waited. An hour passed. He heard a noise +that indicated that the school teacher had been lying on her bed. Then +he heard footsteps on the stairs, and presently saw her go out of the +house and go along Turner's Pike. She did not go toward town but over +the bridge past his shop and into the country. Hugh drew himself back +out of sight. He wondered where she could be going. “The roads are +muddy. Why does she go out? Is she afraid of me?” he asked himself. When +he saw her turn at the bridge and look back toward the house, his hands +trembled again. “She wants me to follow. She wants me to go with her,” + he thought. + +Hugh did presently go out of the house and along the road but did not +meet the school teacher. She had in fact crossed the bridge and had gone +along the bank of the creek on the farther side. Then she crossed +over again on a fallen log and went to stand by the wall of the pickle +factory. A lilac bush grew beside the wall and she stood out of sight +behind it. When she saw Hugh in the road her heart beat so heavily that +she had difficulty in breathing. He went along the road and presently +passed out of sight, and a great weakness took possession of her. +Although the grass was wet she sat on the ground against the wall of the +building and closed her eyes. Later she put her face in her hands and +wept. + +The perplexed inventor did not get back to his boarding house until +late that night, and when he did he was unspeakably glad that he had not +knocked on the door of Rose McCoy's room. He had decided during the walk +that the whole notion that she had wanted him had been born in his own +brain. “She's a nice woman,” he had said to himself over and over during +the walk, and thought that in coming to that conclusion he had swept +away all possibilities of anything else in her. He was tired when he got +home and went at once to bed. The old woman came home from the country +and her brother sat in his buggy and shouted to the school teacher, who +came out of her room and ran down the stairs. He heard the two women +carry something heavy into the house and drop it on the floor. The +farmer brother had given Mrs. McCoy a bag of potatoes. Hugh thought of +the mother and daughter standing together downstairs and was unspeakably +glad he had not given way to his impulse toward boldness. “She would be +telling her now. She is a good woman and would be telling her now,” he +thought. + +At two o'clock that night Hugh got out of bed. In spite of the +conviction that women were not for him, he had found himself unable to +sleep. Something that shone in the eyes of the school teacher, when she +struggled with him for the possession of the plate, kept calling to him +and he got up and went to the window. The clouds had all gone out of the +sky and the night was clear. At the window next his own sat Rose McCoy. +She was dressed in a night gown and was looking away along Turner's Pike +to the place where George Pike the station master lived with his wife. +Without giving himself time to think, Hugh knelt on the floor and with +his long arm reached across the space between the two windows. His +fingers had almost touched the back of the woman's head and ached to +play in the mass of red hair that fell down over her shoulders, when +again self-consciousness overcame him. He drew his arm quickly back and +stood upright in the room. His head banged against the ceiling and he +heard the window of the room next door go softly down. With a conscious +effort he took himself in hand. “She's a good woman. Remember, she's a +good woman,” he whispered to himself, and when he got again into his bed +he refused to let his mind linger on the thoughts of the school teacher, +but compelled them to turn to the unsolved problems he still had to face +before he could complete his hay-loading apparatus. “You tend to your +business and don't be going off on that road any more,” he said, as +though speaking to another person. “Remember she's a good woman and you +haven't the right. That's all you have to do. Remember you haven't the +right,” he added with a ring of command in his voice. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Hugh first saw Clara Butterworth one day in July when she had been +at home for a month. She came to his shop late one afternoon with +her father and a man who had been employed to manage the new bicycle +factory. The three got out of Tom's buggy and came into the shop to see +Hugh's new invention, the hay-loading apparatus. Tom and the man named +Alfred Buckley went to the rear of the shop, and Hugh was left alone +with the woman. She was dressed in a light summer gown and her cheeks +were flushed. Hugh stood by a bench near an open window and listened +while she talked of how much the town had changed in the three years she +had been away. “It is your doing, every one says that,” she declared. + +Clara had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Hugh. She began +asking questions regarding his work and what was to come of it. “When +everything is done by machines, what are people to do?” she asked. She +seemed to take it for granted that the inventor had thought deeply +on the subject of industrial development, a subject on which Kate +Chanceller had often talked during a whole evening. Having heard Hugh +spoken of as one who had a great brain, she wanted to see the brain at +work. + +Alfred Buckley came often to her father's house and wanted to marry +Clara. In the evening the two men sat on the front porch of the +farmhouse and talked of the town and the big things that were to be done +there. They spoke of Hugh, and Buckley, an energetic, talkative fellow +with a long jaw and restless gray eyes who had come from New York City, +suggested schemes for using him. Clara gathered that there was a plan +on foot to get control of Hugh's future inventions and thereby gain an +advantage over Steve Hunter. + +The whole matter puzzled Clara. Alfred Buckley had asked her to marry +him and she had put the matter off. The proposal had been a formal +thing, not at all what she had expected from a man she was to take as a +partner for life, but Clara was at the moment very seriously determined +upon marriage. The New York man was at her father's house several +evenings every week. She had never walked about with him nor had they in +any way come close to each other. He seemed too much occupied with work +to be personal and had proposed marriage by writing her a letter. Clara +got the letter from the post-office and it upset her so that she felt +she could not for a time go into the presence of any one she knew. “I am +unworthy of you, but I want you to be my wife. I will work for you. I am +new here and you do not know me very well. All I ask is the privilege of +proving my merit. I want you to be my wife, but before I dare come and +ask you to do me so great an honor I feel I must prove myself worthy,” + the letter said. + +Clara had driven into town alone on the day when she received it and +later got into her buggy and drove south past the Butterworth farm into +the hills. She forgot to go home to lunch or to the evening meal. The +horse jogged slowly along, protesting and trying to turn back at every +cross road, but she kept on and did not get home until midnight. When +she reached the farmhouse her father was waiting. He went with her into +the barnyard and helped unhitch the horse. Nothing was said, and after +a moment's conversation having nothing to do with the subject that +occupied both their minds, she went upstairs and tried to think the +matter out. She became convinced that her father had something to do +with the proposal of marriage that he knew about it and had waited for +her to come home in order to see how it had affected her. + +Clara wrote a reply that was as non-committal as the proposal itself. +“I do not know whether I want to marry you or not. I will have to become +acquainted with you. I however thank you for the offer of marriage and +when you feel that the right time has come, we will talk about it,” she +wrote. + +After the exchange of letters, Alfred Buckley came to her father's +house more often than before, but he and Clara did not become better +acquainted. He did not talk to her, but to her father. Although she +did not know it, the rumor that she was to marry the New York man had +already run about town. She did not know whether her father or Buckley +had told the tale. + +On the front porch of the farmhouse through the summer evenings the two +men talked of the progress, of the town and the part they were taking +and hoped to take in its future growth. The New York man had proposed +a scheme to Tom. He was to go to Hugh and propose a contract giving the +two men an option on all his future inventions. As the inventions were +completed they were to be financed in New York City, and the two men +would give up manufacture and make money much more rapidly as promoters. +They hesitated because they were afraid of Steve Hunter, and because Tom +was afraid Hugh would not fall in with their plan. “It wouldn't surprise +me if Steve already had such a contract with him. He's a fool if he +hasn't,” the older man said. + +Evening after evening the two men talked and Clara sat in the deep +shadows at the back of the porch and listened. The enmity that had +existed between herself and her father seemed to be forgotten. The man +who had asked her to marry him did not look at her, but her father did. +Buckley did most of the talking and spoke of New York City business +men, already famous throughout the Middle West as giants of finance, as +though they were his life-long friends. “They'll put over anything I ask +them to,” he declared. + +Clara tried to think of Alfred Buckley as a husband. Like Hugh McVey +he was tall and gaunt but unlike the inventor, whom she had seen two +or three times on the street, he was not carelessly dressed. There was +something sleek about him, something that suggested a well-bred dog, +a hound perhaps. As he talked he leaned forward like a greyhound in +pursuit of a rabbit. His hair was carefully parted and his clothes +fitted him like the skin of an animal. He wore a diamond scarf pin. His +long jaw, it seemed to her, was always wagging. Within a few days after +the receipt of his letter she had made up her mind that she did not want +him as a husband, and she was convinced he did not want her. The whole +matter of marriage had, she was sure, been in some way suggested by her +father. When she came to that conclusion she was both angry and in +an odd way touched. She did not interpret it as fear of some sort of +indiscretion on her part, but thought that her father wanted her to +marry because he wanted her to be happy. As she sat in the darkness +on the front porch of the farmhouse the voices of the two men became +indistinct. It was as though her mind went out of her body and like a +living thing journeyed over the world. Dozens of men she had seen and +had casually addressed, young fellows attending school at Columbus and +boys of the town with whom she had gone to parties and dances when +she was a young girl, came to stand before her. She saw their figures +distinctly, but remembered them at some advantageous moment of her +contact with them. At Columbus there was a young man from a town in the +southern end of the State, one of the sort that is always in love with +a woman. During her first year in school he had noticed Clara, had +been undecided as to whether he had better pay attention to her or to a +little black-eyed town girl who was in their classes. Several times he +walked down the college hill and along the street with Clara. The two +stood at a street crossing where she was in the habit of taking a car. +Several cars went by as they stood together by a bush that grew by a +high stone wall. They talked of trivial matters, a comedy club that had +been organized in the school, the chances of victory for the football +team. The young man was one of the actors in a play to be given by +the comedy club and told Clara of his experiences at rehearsals. As he +talked his eyes began to shine and he seemed to be looking, not at +her face or body, but at something within her. For a time, perhaps for +fifteen minutes, there was a possibility that the two people would love +each other. Then the young man went away and later she saw him walking +under the trees on the college campus with the little black-eyed town +girl. + +As she sat on the porch in the darkness in the summer evenings, Clara +thought of the incident and of dozens of other swift-passing contacts +she had made with men. The voices of the two men talking of money-making +went on and on. Whenever she came back out of her introspective world of +thought, Alfred Buckley's long jaw was wagging. He was always at work, +steadily, persistently urging something on her father. It was difficult +for Clara to think of her father as a rabbit, but the notion that Alfred +Buckley was like a hound stayed with her. “The wolf and the wolfhound,” + she thought absent-mindedly. + +Clara was twenty-three and seemed to herself mature. She did not +intend wasting any more time going to school and did not want to be a +professional woman, like Kate Chanceller. There was something she did +want and in a way some man, she did not know what man it would be, was +concerned in the matter. She was very hungry for love, but might have +got that from another woman. Kate Chanceller would have loved her. She +was not unconscious of the fact that their friendship had been something +more than friendship. Kate loved to hold Clara's hand and wanted to kiss +and caress her. The inclination had been put down by Kate herself, a +struggle had gone on in her, and Clara had been dimly conscious of it +and had respected Kate for making it. + +Why? Clara asked herself that question a dozen times during the early +weeks of that summer. Kate Chanceller had taught her to think. When +they were together Kate did both the thinking and the talking, but now +Clara's mind had a chance. There was something back of her desire for +a man. She wanted something more than caresses. There was a creative +impulse in her that could not function until she had been made love to +by a man. The man she wanted was but an instrument she sought in order +that she might fulfill herself. Several times during those evenings in +the presence of the two men, who talked only of making money out of the +products of another man's mind, she almost forced her mind out into a +concrete thought concerning women, and then it became again befogged. + +Clara grew tired of thinking, and listened to the talk. The name of +Hugh McVey played through the persistent conversation like a refrain. +It became fixed in her mind. The inventor was not married. By the social +system under which she lived that and that only made him a possibility +for her purposes. She began to think of the inventor, and her mind, +weary of playing about her own figure, played about the figure of the +tall, serious-looking man she had seen on Main Street. When Alfred +Buckley had driven away to town for the night, she went upstairs to her +own room but did not get into bed. Instead, she put out her light and +sat by an open window that looked out upon the orchard and from which +she could see a little stretch of the road that ran past the farm house +toward town. Every evening before Alfred Buckley went away, there was +a little scene on the front porch. When the visitor got up to go, her +father made some excuse for going indoors or around the corner of the +house into the barnyard. “I will have Jim Priest hitch up your horse,” + he said and hurried away. Clara was left in the company of the man who +had pretended he wanted to marry her, and who, she was convinced, +wanted nothing of the kind. She was not embarrassed, but could feel his +embarrassment and enjoyed it. He made formal speeches. + +“Well, the night is fine,” he said. Clara hugged the thought that he was +uncomfortable. “He has taken me for a green country girl, impressed +with him because he is from the city and dressed in fine clothes,” she +thought. Sometimes her father stayed away five or ten minutes and she +did not say a word. When her father returned Alfred Buckley shook hands +with him and then turned to Clara, apparently now quite at his ease. “We +have bored you, I'm afraid,” he said. He took her hand and leaning over, +kissed the back of it ceremoniously. Her father looked away. Clara went +upstairs and sat by the window. She could hear the two men continuing +their talk in the road before the house. After a time the front door +banged, her father came into the house and the visitor drove away. +Everything became quiet and for a long time she could hear the hoofs of +Alfred Buckley's horse beating a rapid tattoo on the road that led down +into town. + +Clara thought of Hugh McVey. Alfred Buckley had spoken of him as a +backwoodsman with a streak of genius. He constantly harped on the notion +that he and Tom could use the man for their own ends, and she wondered +if both of the men were making as great a mistake about the inventor as +they were about her. In the silent summer night, when the sound of the +horse's hoofs had died away and when her father had quit stirring about +the house, she heard another sound. The corn-cutting machine factory +was very busy and had put on a night shift. When the night was still, or +when there was a slight breeze blowing up the hill from town, there +was a low rumbling sound coming from many machines working in wood and +steel, followed at regular intervals by the steady breathing of a steam +engine. + +The woman at the window, like every one else in her town and in all the +towns of the mid-western country, became touched with the idea of the +romance of industry. The dreams of the Missouri boy that he had fought, +had by the strength of his persistency twisted into new channels so +that they had expressed themselves in definite things, in corn-cutting +machines and in machines for unloading coal cars and for gathering hay +out of a field and loading it on wagons without aid of human hands, were +still dreams and capable of arousing dreams in others. They awoke dreams +in the mind of the woman. The figures of other men that had been playing +through her mind slipped away and but the one figure remained. Her mind +made up stories concerning Hugh. She had read the absurd tale that had +been printed in the Cleveland paper and her fancy took hold of it. Like +every other citizen of America she believed in heroes. In books and +magazines she had read of heroic men who had come up out of poverty +by some strange alchemy to combine in their stout persons all of the +virtues. The broad, rich land demanded gigantic figures, and the minds +of men had created the figures. Lincoln, Grant, Garfield, Sherman, and a +half dozen other men were something more than human in the minds of +the generation that came immediately after the days of their stirring +performance. Already industry was creating a new set of semi-mythical +figures. The factory at work in the night-time in the town of Bidwell +became, to the mind of the woman sitting by the window in the farm +house, not a factory but a powerful animal, a powerful beast-like thing +that Hugh had tamed and made useful to his fellows. Her mind ran +forward and took the taming of the beast for granted. The hunger of her +generation found a voice in her. Like every one else she wanted heroes, +and Hugh, to whom she had never talked and about whom she knew nothing, +became a hero. Her father, Alfred Buckley, Steve Hunter and the rest +were after all pigmies. Her father was a schemer; he had even schemed +to get her married, perhaps to further his own plans. In reality his +schemes were so ineffective that she did not need to be angry with him. +There was but one man of them all who was not a schemer. Hugh was what +she wanted to be. He was a creative force. In his hands dead inanimate +things became creative forces. He was what she wanted not herself +but perhaps a son, to be. The thought, at last definitely expressed, +startled Clara, and she arose from the chair by the window and prepared +to go to bed. Something within her body ached, but she did not allow +herself to pursue further the thoughts she had been having. + +On the day when she went with her father and Alfred Buckley to visit +Hugh's shop, Clara knew that she wanted to marry the man she would see +there. The thought was not expressed in her but slept like a seed newly +planted in fertile soil. She had herself managed that she be taken to +the factory and had also managed that she be left with Hugh while the +two men went to look at the half-completed hay-loader at the back of the +shop. + +She had begun talking to Hugh while the four people stood on the little +grass plot before the shop. They went inside and her father and Buckley +went through a door toward the rear. She stopped by a bench and as she +continued talking Hugh was compelled to stop and stand beside her. She +asked questions, paid him vague compliments, and as he struggled, trying +to make conversation, she studied him. To cover his confusion he half +turned away and looked out through a window into Turner's Pike. His +eyes, she decided, were nice. They were somewhat small, but there was +something gray and cloudy in them, and the gray cloudiness gave her +confidence in the person behind the eyes. She could, she felt, trust +him. There was something in his eyes that was like the things most +grateful to her own nature, the sky seen across an open stretch of +country or over a river that ran straight away into the distance. Hugh's +hair was coarse like the mane of a horse, and his nose was like the nose +of a horse. He was, she decided, very like a horse; an honest, powerful +horse, a horse that was humanized by the mysterious, hungering thing +that expressed itself through his eyes. “If I have to live with an +animal; if, as Kate Chanceller once said, we women have to decide what +other animal we are to live with before we can begin being humans, +I would rather live with a strong, kindly horse than a wolf or a +wolfhound,” she found herself thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Hugh had no suspicion that Clara had him under consideration as a +possible husband. He knew nothing about her, but after she went away he +began to think. She was a woman and good to look upon and at once took +Rose McCoy's place in his mind. All unloved men and many who are loved +play in a half subconscious way with the figures of many women as +women's minds play with the figures of men, seeing them in many +situations, vaguely caressing them, dreaming of closer contacts. With +Hugh the impulse toward women had started late, but it was becoming +every day more active. When he talked to Clara and while she stayed +in his presence, he was more embarrassed than he had ever been before, +because he was more conscious of her than he had ever been of any other +woman. In secret he was not the modest man he thought himself. The +success of his corn-cutting machine and his car-dumping apparatus and +the respect, amounting almost to worship, he sometimes saw in the eyes +of the people of the Ohio town had fed his vanity. It was a time when +all America was obsessed with one idea, and to the people of Bidwell +nothing could be more important, necessary and vital to progress than +the things Hugh had done. He did not walk and talk like the other people +of the town, and his body was over-large and loosely put together, but +in secret he did not want to be different even in a physical way. Now +and then there came an opportunity for a test of physical strength: an +iron bar was to be lifted or a part of some heavy machine swung into +place in the shop. In such a test he had found he could lift almost +twice the load another could handle. Two men grunted and strained, +trying to lift a heavy bar off the floor and put it on a bench. He came +along and did the job alone and without apparent effort. + +In his room at night or in the late afternoon or evening in the summer +when he walked on country roads, he sometimes felt keen hunger for +recognition of his merits from his fellows, and having no one to praise +him, he praised himself. When the Governor of the State spoke in praise +of him before a crowd and when he made Rose McCoy come away because it +seemed immodest for him to stay and hear such words, he found himself +unable to sleep. After tossing in his bed for two or three hours he got +up and crept quietly out of the house. He was like a man who, having +an unmusical voice, sings to himself in a bath-room while the water +is making a loud, splashing noise. On that night Hugh wanted to be an +orator. As he stumbled in the darkness along Turner's Pike he imagined +himself Governor of a State addressing a multitude of people. A mile +north of Pickleville a dense thicket grew beside the road, and Hugh +stopped and addressed the young trees and bushes. In the darkness +the mass of bushes looked not unlike a crowd standing at attention, +listening. The wind blew and played in the thick, dry growth and there +was a sound as of many voices whispering words of encouragement. Hugh +said many foolish things. Expressions he had heard from the lips of +Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth came into his mind and were repeated +by his lips. He spoke of the swift growth that had come to the town of +Bidwell as though it were an unmixed blessing, the factories, the homes +of happy, contented people, the coming of industrial development as +something akin to a visit of the gods. Rising to the height of egotism +he shouted, “I have done it. I have done it.” + +Hugh heard a buggy coming along the road and fled into the thicket. A +farmer, who had gone to town for the evening and who had stayed after +the political meeting to talk with other farmers in Ben Head's saloon, +went homeward, asleep in his buggy. His head nodded up and down, heavy +with the vapors rising from many glasses of beer. Hugh came out of the +thicket feeling somewhat ashamed. The next day he wrote a letter to +Sarah Shepherd and told her of his progress. “If you or Henry want any +money, I can let you have all you want,” he wrote, and did not resist +the temptation to tell her something of what the Governor had said of +his work and his mind. “Anyway they must think I amount to something +whether I do or not,” he said wistfully. + +Having awakened to his own importance in the life about him, Hugh wanted +direct, human appreciation. After the failure of the effort both he and +Rose had made to break through the wall of embarrassment and reserve +that kept them apart, he knew pretty definitely that he wanted a woman, +and the idea, once fixed in his mind, grew to gigantic proportions. All +women became interesting, and he looked with hungry eyes at the wives +of the workmen who sometimes came to the shop door to pass a word with +their husbands, at young farm girls who drove along Turner's Pike on +summer afternoons, town girls who walked in the Bidwell Main Street in +the evening, at fair women and dark women. As he wanted a woman more +consciously and determinedly he became more afraid of individual women. +His success and his association with the workmen in his shop had made +him less self-conscious in the presence of men, but the women were +different. In their presence he was ashamed of his secret thoughts of +them. + +On the day when he was left alone with Clara, Tom Butterworth and Alfred +Buckley stayed at the back of the shop for nearly twenty minutes. It +was a hot day and beads of sweat stood on Hugh's face. His sleeves were +rolled to his elbows and his hands and hairy arms were covered with shop +grime. He put up his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, leaving +a long, black mark. Then he became aware of the fact that as she talked +the woman looked at him in an absorbed, almost calculating way. It was +as though he were a horse and she were a buyer examining him to be sure +he was sound and of a kindly disposition. While she stood beside him her +eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed. The awakening, assertive +male thing in him whispered that the flush on her cheeks and the shining +eyes were indicative of something. His mind had been taught that lesson +by the slight and wholly unsatisfactory experience with the school +teacher at his boarding-house. + +Clara drove away from the shop with her father and Alfred Buckley. Tom +drove and Alfred Buckley leaned forward and talked. “You must find out +whether or not Steve has an option on the new tool. It would be foolish +to ask outright and give ourselves away. That inventor is stupid and +vain. Those fellows always are. They appear to be quiet and shrewd, but +they always let the cat out of the bag. The thing to do is to flatter +him in some way. A woman could find out all he knows in ten minutes.” He +turned to Clara and smiled. There was something infinitely impertinent +in the fixed, animal-like stare of his eyes. “We do take you into our +plans, your father and me, eh?” he said. “You must be careful not to +give us away when you talk to that inventor.” + +From his shop window Hugh stared at the backs of the heads of the three +people. The top of Tom Butterworth's buggy had been let down, and when +he talked Alfred Buckley leaned forward and his head disappeared. Hugh +thought Clara must look like the kind of woman men meant when they spoke +of a lady. The farmer's daughter had an instinct for clothes, and Hugh's +mind got the idea of gentility by way of the medium of clothes. He +thought the dress she had worn the most stylish thing he had ever seen. +Clara's friend Kate Chanceller, while mannish in her dress, had an +instinct for style and had taught Clara some valuable lessons. “Any +woman can dress well if she knows how,” Kate had declared. She had +taught Clara how to study and emphasize by dress the good points of her +body. Beside Clara, Rose McCoy looked dowdy and commonplace. + +Hugh went to the rear of his shop to where there was a water-tap and +washed his hands. Then he went to a bench and tried to take up the work +he had been doing. Within five minutes he went to wash his hands again. +He went out of the shop and stood beside the small stream that rippled +along beneath willow bushes and disappeared under the bridge beneath +Turner's Pike, and then went back for his coat and quit work for the +day. An instinct led him to go past the creek again and he knelt on the +grass at the edge and again washed his hands. + +Hugh's growing vanity was fed by the thought that Clara was interested +in him, but it was not yet strong enough to sustain the thought. He took +a long walk, going north from the shop along Turner's Pike for two or +three miles and then by a cross road between corn and cabbage fields to +where he could, by crossing a meadow, get into a wood. For an hour he +sat on a log at the wood's edge and looked south. Away in the distance, +over the roofs of the houses of the town, he could see a white speck +against a background of green--the Butterworth farm house. Almost at +once he decided that the thing he had seen in Clara's eyes and that was +sister to something he had seen in Rose McCoy's eyes had nothing to do +with him. The mantle of vanity he had been wearing dropped off and left +him naked and sad. “What would she be wanting of me?” he asked himself, +and got up from the log to look with critical eyes at his long, bony +body. For the first time in two or three years he thought of the words +so often repeated in his presence by Sarah Shepard in the first few +months after he left his father's shack by the shore of the Mississippi +River and came to work at the railroad station. She had called his +people lazy louts and poor white trash and had railed against his +inclination to dreams. By struggle and work he had conquered the dreams +but could not conquer his ancestry, nor change the fact that he was at +bottom poor white trash. With a shudder of disgust he saw himself again +a boy in ragged clothes that smelled of fish, lying stupid and half +asleep in the grass beside the Mississippi River. He forgot the majesty +of the dreams that sometimes came to him, and only remembered the swarms +of flies that, attracted by the filth of their clothes, hovered over him +and over the drunken father who lay sleeping beside him. + +A lump arose in his throat and for a moment he was consumed with +self-pity. Then he went out of the wood, crossed the field, and with +his peculiar, long, shambling gait that got him over the ground with +surprising rapidity, went again along the road. Had there been a stream +nearby he would have been tempted to tear off his clothes and plunge +in. The notion that he could ever become a man who would in any way be +attractive to a woman like Clara Butterworth seemed the greatest folly +in the world. “She's a lady. What would she be wanting of me? I ain't +fitten for her. I ain't fitten for her,” he said aloud, unconsciously +falling into the dialect of his father. + +Hugh walked the entire afternoon away and in the evening went back to +his shop and worked until midnight. So energetically did he work that +several knotty problems in the construction of the hay-loading apparatus +were cleared away. + +On the second evening after the encounter with Clara, Hugh went for a +walk in the streets of Bidwell. He thought of the work on which he had +been engaged all day and then of the woman he had made up his mind he +could under no circumstances win. As darkness came on he went into +the country, and at nine returned along the railroad tracks past the +corn-cutter factory. The factory was working day and night, and the new +plant, also beside the tracks and but a short distance away, was almost +completed. Behind the new plant was a field Tom Butterworth and Steve +Hunter had bought and laid out in streets of workingmen's houses. The +houses were cheaply constructed and ugly, and in all directions there +was a vast disorder; but Hugh did not see the disorder or the ugliness +of the buildings. The sight that lay before him strengthened his waning +vanity. Something of the loose shuffle went out of his stride and he +threw back his shoulders. “What I have done here amounts to something. +I'm all right,” he thought, and had almost reached the old corn-cutter +plant when several men came out of a side door and getting upon the +tracks, walked before him. + +In the corn-cutter plant something had happened that excited the men. +Ed Hall the superintendent had played a trick on his fellow townsmen. He +had put on overalls and gone to work at a bench in a long room with some +fifty other men. “I'm going to show you up,” he said, laughing. “You +watch me. We're behind on the work and I'm going to show you up.” + +The pride of the workmen had been touched, and for two weeks they had +worked like demons to outdo the boss. At night when the amount of +work done was calculated, they laughed at Ed. Then they heard that the +piece-work plan was to be installed in the factory, and were afraid they +would be paid by a scale calculated on the amount of work done during +the two weeks of furious effort. + +The workman who stumbled along the tracks cursed Ed Hall and the men for +whom he worked. “I lost six hundred dollars in the plant-setting machine +failure and this is all I get, to be played a trick on by a young suck +like Ed Hall,” a voice grumbled. Another voice took up the refrain. +In the dim light Hugh could see the speaker, a man with a bent back, a +product of the cabbage fields, who had come to town to find employment. +Although he did not recognize it, he had heard the voice before. It came +from a son of the cabbage farmer, Ezra French and was the same voice he +had once heard complaining at night as the French boys crawled across a +cabbage field in the moonlight. The man now said something that startled +Hugh. “Well,” he declared, “it's a joke on me. I quit Dad and made him +sore; now he won't take me back again. He says I'm a quitter and no +good. I thought I'd come to town to a factory and find it easier here. +Now I've got married and have to stick to my job no matter what they +do. In the country I worked like a dog a few weeks a year, but here I'll +probably have to work like that all the time. It's the way things go. I +thought it was mighty funny, all this talk about the factory work being +so easy. I wish the old days were back. I don't see how that inventor or +his inventions ever helped us workers. Dad was right about him. He said +an inventor wouldn't do nothing for workers. He said it would be better +to tar and feather that telegraph operator. I guess Dad was right.” + +The swagger went out of Hugh's walk and he stopped to let the men pass +out of sight and hearing along the track. When they had gone a little +away a quarrel broke out. Each man felt the others must be in some way +responsible for his betrayal in the matter of the contest with Ed Hall +and accusations flew back and forth. One of the men threw a heavy stone +that ran down along the tracks and jumped into a ditch filled with +dry weeds. It made a heavy crashing sound. Hugh heard heavy footsteps +running. He was afraid the men were going to attack him, and climbed +over a fence, crossed a barnyard, and got into an empty street. As he +went along trying to understand what had happened and why the men were +angry, he met Clara Butterworth, standing and apparently waiting for him +under a street lamp. + + * * * * * + +Hugh walked beside Clara, too perplexed to attempt to understand the new +impulses crowding in upon his mind. She explained her presence in the +street by saying she had been to town to mail a letter and intended +walking home by a side road. “You may come with me if you're just +out for a walk,” she said. The two walked in silence. Hugh's mind, +unaccustomed to traveling in wide circles, centered on his companion. +Life seemed suddenly to be crowding him along strange roads. In two +days he had felt more new emotions and had felt them more deeply than he +would have thought possible to a human being. The hour through which +he had just passed had been extraordinary. He had started out from his +boarding-house sad and depressed. Then he had come by the factories and +pride in what he thought he had accomplished swept in on him. Now it +was apparent the workers in the factories were not happy, that there was +something the matter. He wondered if Clara would know what was wrong +and would tell him if he asked. He wanted to ask many questions. “That's +what I want a woman for. I want some one close to me who understands +things and will tell me about them,” he thought. Clara remained silent +and Hugh decided that she, like the complaining workman stumbling along +the tracks, did not like him. The man had said he wished Hugh had never +come to town. Perhaps every one in Bidwell secretly felt that way. + +Hugh was no longer proud of himself and his achievements. Perplexity had +captured him. When he and Clara got out of town into a country road, he +began thinking of Sarah Shepard, who had been friendly and kind to him +when he was a lad, and wished she were with him, or better yet that +Clara would take the attitude toward him she had taken. Had Clara taken +it into her head to scold as Sarah Shepard had done he would have been +relieved. + +Instead Clara walked in silence, thinking of her own affairs and +planning to use Hugh for her own ends. It had been a perplexing day +for her. Late that afternoon there had been a scene between her and +her father and she had left home and come to town because she could no +longer bear being in his presence. When she had seen Hugh coming toward +her she had stopped under a street lamp to wait for him. “I could set +everything straight by getting him to ask me to marry him,” she thought. + +The new difficulty that had arisen between Clara and her father was +something with which she had nothing to do. Tom, who thought himself so +shrewd and crafty, had been taken in by the city man, Alfred Buckley. A +federal officer had come to town during the afternoon to arrest Buckley. +The man had turned out to be a notorious swindler wanted in several +cities. In New York he had been one of a gang who distributed +counterfeit money, and in other states he was wanted for swindling +women, two of whom he married unlawfully. + +The arrest had been like a shot fired at Tom by a member of his own +household. He had almost come to think of Alfred Buckley as one of his +family, and as he drove rapidly along the road toward home, he had been +profoundly sorry for his daughter and had intended to ask her to forgive +him for his part in betraying her into a false position. That he had +not openly committed himself to any of Buckley's schemes, had signed no +papers and written no letters that would betray the conspiracy he had +entered into against Steve, filled him with joy. He had intended to be +generous, and even, if necessary, confess to Clara his indiscretion in +talking of a possible marriage, but when he got to the farm house and +had taken Clara into the parlor and had closed the door, he changed +his mind. He told her of Buckley's arrest, and then started tramping +excitedly up and down in the room. Her coolness infuriated him. “Don't +set there like a clam!” he shouted. “Don't you know what's happened? +Don't you know you're disgraced, have brought disgrace on my name?” + +The angry father explained that half the town knew of her engagement to +marry Alfred Buckley, and when Clara declared they were not engaged and +that she had never intended marrying the man, his anger did not abate. +He had himself whispered the suggestion about town, had told Steve +Hunter, Gordon Hart, and two or three others, that Alfred Buckley and +his daughter would no doubt do what he spoke of as “hitting it off,” and +they had of course told their wives. The fact that he had betrayed his +daughter into an ugly position gnawed at his consciousness. “I suppose +the rascal told it himself,” he said, in reply to her statement, and +again gave way to anger. He glared at his daughter and wished she were +a son so he could strike with his fists. His voice arose to a shout and +could be heard in the barnyard where Jim Priest and a young farm +hand were at work. They stopped work and listened. “She's been up to +something. Do you suppose some man has got her in trouble?” the young +farm hand asked. + +In the house Tom expressed his old dissatisfaction with his daughter. +“Why haven't you married and settled down like a decent woman?” he +shouted. “Tell me that. Why haven't you married and settled down? Why +are you always getting in trouble? Why haven't you married and settled +down?” + + * * * * * + +Clara walked in the road beside Hugh and thought that all her troubles +would come to an end if he would ask her to be his wife. Then she +became ashamed of her thoughts. As they passed the last street lamp and +prepared to set out by a roundabout way along a dark road, she turned +to look at Hugh's long, serious face. The tradition that had made him +appear different from other men in the eyes of the people of Bidwell +began to affect her. Ever since she had come home she had been hearing +people speak of him with something like awe in their voices. For her to +marry the town's hero would, she knew, set her on a high place in the +eyes of her people. It would be a triumph for her and would re-establish +her, not only in her father's eyes but in the eyes of every one. Every +one seemed to think she should marry; even Jim Priest had said so. He +had said she was the marrying kind. Here was her chance. She wondered +why she did not want to take it. + +Clara had written her friend Kate Chanceller a letter in which she had +declared her intention of leaving home and going to work, and had come +to town afoot to mail it. On Main Street as she went through the crowds +of men who had come to loaf the evening away before the stores, the +force of what her father had said concerning the connection of her name +with that of Buckley the swindler had struck her for the first time. The +men were gathered together in groups, talking excitedly. No doubt they +were discussing Buckley's arrest. Her own name was, no doubt, being +bandied about. Her cheeks burned and a keen hatred of mankind had +possession of her. Now her hatred of others awoke in her an almost +worshipful attitude toward Hugh. By the time they had walked together +for five minutes all thought of using him to her own ends had gone. +“He's not like Father or Henderson Woodburn or Alfred Buckley,” she told +herself. “He doesn't scheme and twist things about trying to get the +best of some one else. He works, and because of his efforts things are +accomplished.” The figure of the farm hand Jim Priest working in a field +of corn came to her mind. “The farm hand works,” she thought, “and the +corn grows. This man sticks to his task in his shop and makes a town +grow.” + +In her father's presence during the afternoon Clara had remained calm +and apparently indifferent to his tirade. In town in the presence of the +men she was sure were attacking her character, she had been angry, ready +to fight. Now she wanted to put her head on Hugh's shoulder and cry. + +They came to the bridge near where the road turned and led to her +father's house. It was the same bridge to which she had come with the +school teacher and to which John May had followed, looking for a fight. +Clara stopped. She did not want any one at the house to know that Hugh +had walked home with her. “Father is so set on my getting married, he +would go to see him to-morrow,” she thought. She put her arms upon the +rail of the bridge and bending over buried her face between them. Hugh +stood behind her, turning his head from side to side and rubbing his +hands on his trouser legs, beside himself with embarrassment. There was +a flat, swampy field beside the road and not far from the bridge, and +after a moment of silence the voices of a multitude of frogs broke the +stillness. Hugh became overwhelmingly sad. The notion that he was a big +man and deserved to have a woman to live with and understand him went +entirely away. For the moment he wanted to be a boy and put his head on +the shoulder of the woman. He did not look at Clara but at himself. +In the dim light his hands, nervously fumbling about, his long, +loosely-put-together body, everything connected with his person, seemed +ugly and altogether unattractive. He could see the woman's small firm +hands that lay on the railing of the bridge. They were, he thought, like +everything connected with her person, shapely and beautiful, just as +everything connected with his own person was unshapely and ugly. + +Clara aroused herself from the meditative mood that had taken possession +of her, and after shaking Hugh's hand and explaining that she did not +want him to go further went away. When he thought she had quite gone she +came back. “You'll hear I was engaged to that Alfred Buckley who has got +into trouble and has been arrested,” she said. Hugh did not reply and +her voice became sharp and a little challenging. “You'll hear we were +going to be married. I don't know what you'll hear. It's a lie,” she +said and turning, hurried away. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Hugh and Clara were married in less than a week after their first walk +together. A chain of circumstances touching their two lives hurled them +into marriage, and the opportunity for the intimacy with a woman for +which Hugh so longed came to him with a swiftness that made him fairly +dizzy. + +It was a Wednesday evening and cloudy. After dining in silence with his +landlady, Hugh started along Turner's Pike toward Bidwell, but when he +had got almost into town, turned back. He had left the house intending +to go through town to the Medina Road and to the woman who now occupied +so large a place in his thoughts, but hadn't the courage. Every evening +for almost a week he had taken the walk, and every evening and at almost +the same spot he turned back. He was disgusted and angry with himself +and went to his shop, walking in the middle of the road and kicking up +clouds of dust. People passed along the path under the trees at the side +of the road and turned to stare at him. A workingman with a fat wife, +who puffed as she walked at his side, turned to look and then began to +scold. “I tell you what, old woman, I shouldn't have married and had +kids,” he grumbled. “Look at me, then look at that fellow. He goes along +there thinking big thoughts that will make him richer and richer. I have +to work for two dollars a day, and pretty soon I'll be old and thrown on +the scrap-heap. I might have been a rich inventor like him had I given +myself a chance.” + +The workman went on his way, grumbling at his wife who paid no attention +to his words. Her breath was needed for the labor of walking, and as for +the matter of marriage, that had been attended to. She saw no reason for +wasting words over the matter. Hugh went to the shop and stood leaning +against the door frame. Two or three workmen were busy near the back +door and had lighted gas lamps that hung over the work benches. They did +not see Hugh, and their voices ran through the empty building. One of +them, an old man with a bald head, entertained his fellows by giving +an imitation of Steve Hunter. He lighted a cigar and putting on his hat +tipped it a little to one side. Puffing out his chest he marched up and +down talking of money. “Here's a ten-dollar cigar,” he said, handing a +long stogie to one of the other workmen. “I buy them by the thousands to +give away. I'm interested in uplifting the lives of workmen in my home +town. That's what takes all my attention.” + +The other workmen laughed and the little man continued to prance up +and down and talk, but Hugh did not hear him. He stared moodily at the +people going along the road toward town. Darkness was coming but he +could still see dim figures striding along. Over at the foundry back of +the corn-cutting machine plant the night shift was pouring off, and a +sudden glare of light played across the heavy smoke cloud that lay +over the town. The bells of the churches began to call people to the +Wednesday evening prayer-meetings. Some enterprising citizen had begun +to build workmen's houses in a field beyond Hugh's shop and these were +occupied by Italian laborers. A crowd of them came past. What would some +day be a tenement district was growing in a field beside a cabbage patch +belonging to Ezra French who had said God would not permit men to change +the field of their labors. + +An Italian passed under a lamp near the Wheeling station. He wore +a bright red handkerchief about his neck and was clad in a brightly +colored shirt. Like the other people of Bidwell, Hugh did not like to +see foreigners about. He did not understand them and when he saw them +going about the streets in groups, was a little afraid. It was a man's +duty, he thought, to look as much as possible like all his fellow men, +to lose himself in the crowds, and these fellows did not look like other +men. They loved color, and as they talked they made rapid gestures with +their hands. The Italian in the road was with a woman of his own race, +and in the growing darkness put his arm about her shoulder. Hugh's heart +began to beat rapidly and he forgot his American prejudices. He wished +he were a workman and that Clara were a workman's daughter. Then, he +thought, he might find courage to go to her. His imagination, quickened +by the flame of desire and running in new channels, made it possible for +him, at the moment to see himself in the young Italian's place, walking +in the road with Clara. She was clad in a calico dress and her soft +brown eyes looked at him full of love and understanding. + +The three workingmen had completed the job for which they had come back +to work after the evening meal, and now turned out the lights and came +toward the front of the shop. Hugh drew back from the door and concealed +himself by standing in the heavy shadows by the wall. So realistic were +his thoughts of Clara that he did not want them intruded upon. + +The workmen went out of the shop door and stood talking. The bald-headed +man was telling a tale to which the others listened eagerly. “It's all +over town,” he said. “From what I hear every one say it isn't the first +time she's been in such a mess. Old Tom Butterworth claimed he sent her +away to school three years ago, but now they say that isn't the truth. +What they say is that she was in the family way to one of her father's +farm hands and had to get out of town.” The man laughed. “Lord, if Clara +Butterworth was my daughter she'd be in a nice fix, wouldn't she, eh?” + he said, laughing. “As it is, she's all right. She's gone now and got +herself mixed up with this swindler Buckley, but her father's money will +make it all right. If she's going to have a kid, no one'll know. Maybe +she's already had the kid. They say she's a regular one for the men.” + +As the man talked Hugh came to the door and stood in the darkness +listening. For a time the words would not penetrate his consciousness, +and then he remembered what Clara had said. She had said something about +Alfred Buckley and that there would be a story connecting her name with +his. She had been hot and angry and had declared the story a lie. Hugh +did not know what the story was about, but it was evident there was a +story abroad, a scandalous story concerning her and Alfred Buckley. A +hot, impersonal anger took possession of him. “She's in trouble--here's +my chance,” he thought. His tall figure straightened and as he stepped +through the shop door his head struck sharply against the door frame, +but he did not feel the blow that at another time might have knocked him +down. During his whole life he had never struck any one with his fists, +and had never felt a desire to do so, but now hunger to strike and even +to kill took complete possession of him. With a cry of rage his fist +shot out and the old man who had done the talking was knocked senseless +into a clump of weeds that grew near the door. Hugh whirled and struck +a second man who fell through the open doorway into the shop. The third +man ran away into the darkness along Turner's Pike. + +Hugh walked rapidly to town and through Main Street. He saw Tom +Butterworth walking in the street with Steve Hunter, but turned a corner +to avoid a meeting. “My chance has come,” he kept saying to himself +as he hurried along Medina Road. “Clara's in some kind of trouble. My +chance has come.” + +By the time he got to the door of the Butterworth house, Hugh's +new-found courage had almost left him, but before it had quite gone he +raised his hand and knocked on the door. By good fortune Clara came to +open it. Hugh took off his hat and turned it awkwardly in his hands. +“I came out here to ask you to marry me,” he said. “I want you to be my +wife. Will you do it?” + +Clara stepped out of the house and closed the door. A whirl of thoughts +ran through her brain. For a moment she felt like laughing, and then +what there was in her of her father's shrewdness came to her rescue. +“Why shouldn't I do it?” she thought. “Here's my chance. This man is +excited and upset now, but he is a man I can respect. It's the best +marriage I'll ever have a chance to make. I do not love him, but perhaps +that will come. This may be the way marriages are made.” + +Clara put out her hand and laid it on Hugh's arm. “Well,” she said, +hesitatingly, “you wait here a moment.” + +She went into the house and left Hugh standing in the darkness. He was +terribly afraid. It seemed to him that every secret desire of his +life had got itself suddenly and bluntly expressed. He felt naked and +ashamed. “If she comes out and says she'll marry me, what will I do? +What'll I do then?” he asked himself. + +When she did come out Clara wore her hat and a long coat. “Come,” she +said, and led him around the house and through the barnyard to one of +the barns. She went into a dark stall and led forth a horse and with +Hugh's help pulled a buggy out of a shed into the barnyard. “If we're +going to do it there's no use putting it off,” she said with a trembling +voice. “We might as well go to the county seat and do it at once.” + +The horse was hitched and Clara got into the buggy. Hugh climbed in and +sat beside her. She had started to drive out of the barnyard when Jim +Priest stepped suddenly out of the darkness and took hold of the horse's +head. Clara held the buggy whip in her hand and raised it to hit the +horse. A desperate determination that nothing should interfere with her +marriage with Hugh had taken possession of her. “If necessary I'll +ride the man down,” she thought. Jim came to stand beside the buggy. +He looked past Clara at Hugh. “I thought maybe it was that Buckley,” he +said. He put a hand on the buggy dash and laid the other on Clara's arm. +“You're a woman now, Clara, and I guess you know what you're doing. I +guess you know I'm your friend,” he said slowly. “You been in trouble, +I know. I couldn't help hearing what your father said to you about +Buckley, he talked so loud. Clara, I don't want to see you get into +trouble.” + +The farm hand stepped away from the buggy and then came back and again +put his hand on Clara's arm. The silence that lay over the barnyard +lasted until the woman felt she could speak without a break in her +voice. + +“I'm not going very far, Jim,” she said, laughing nervously. “This is +Mr. Hugh McVey and we're going over to the county seat to get married. +We'll be back home before midnight. You put a candle in the window for +us.” + +Hitting the horse a sharp blow, Clara drove quickly past the house and +into the road. She turned south into the hill country through which lay +the road to the county seat. As the horse trotted quickly along, the +voice of Jim Priest called to her out of the darkness of the barnyard, +but she did not stop. The afternoon and evening had been cloudy and the +night was dark. She was glad of that. As the horse went swiftly along +she turned to look at Hugh who sat up very stiffly on the buggy seat and +stared straight ahead. The long horse-like face of the Missourian +with its huge nose and deeply furrowed cheeks was ennobled by the soft +darkness, and a tender feeling crept over her. When he had asked her +to become his wife, Clara had pounced like a wild animal abroad seeking +prey and the thing in her that was like her father, hard, shrewd and +quick-witted, had led her to decide to see the thing through at once. +Now she became ashamed, and her tender mood took the hardness and +shrewdness away. “This man and I have a thousand things we should say +to each other before we rush into marriage,” she thought, and was half +inclined to turn the horse and drive back. She wondered if Hugh had also +heard the stories connecting her name with that of Buckley, the stories +she was sure were now running from lip to lip through the streets of +Bidwell, and what version of the tale had been carried to him. “Perhaps +he came to propose marriage in order to protect me,” she thought, and +decided that if he had come for that reason she was taking an unfair +advantage. “It is what Kate Chanceller would call 'doing the man a +dirty, low-down trick,'” she told herself; but even as the thought came +she leaned forward and touching the horse with the whip urged him even +more swiftly along the road. + +A mile south of the Butterworth farmhouse the road to the county seat +crossed the crest of a hill, the highest point in the county, and from +the road there was a magnificent view of the country lying to the south. +The sky had begun to clear, and as they reached the point known as +Lookout Hill, the moon broke through a tangle of clouds. Clara stopped +the horse and turned to look down the hillside. Below lay the lights of +her father's farmhouse--where he had come as a young man and to which +long ago he had brought his bride. Far below the farmhouse a clustered +mass of lights outlined the swiftly growing town. The determination +that had carried Clara thus far wavered again and a lump came into her +throat. + +Hugh also turned to look but did not see the dark beauty of the country +wearing its night jewels of lights. The woman he wanted so passionately +and of whom he was so afraid had her face turned from him, and he dared +to look at her. He saw the sharp curve of her breasts and in the dim +light her cheeks seemed to glow with beauty. An odd notion came to him. +In the uncertain light her face seemed to move independent of her body. +It drew near him and then drew away. Once he thought the dimly seen +white cheek would touch his own. He waited breathless. A flame of desire +ran through his body. + +Hugh's mind flew back through the years to his boyhood and young +manhood. In the river town when he was a boy the raftsmen and hangers-on +of the town's saloons, who had sometimes come to spend an afternoon on +the river banks with his father John McVey, often spoke of women and +marriage. As they lay on the burned grass in the warm sunlight they +talked and the boy who lay half asleep nearby listened. The voices came +to him as though out of the clouds or up out of the lazy waters of the +great river and the talk of women awoke his boyhood lusts. One of the +men, a tall young fellow with a mustache and with dark rings under his +eyes, told in a lazy, drawling voice the tale of an adventure had with +a woman one night when a raft on which he was employed had tied up near +the city of St. Louis, and Hugh listened enviously. As he told the tale +the young man a little awoke from his stupor, and when he laughed the +other men lying about laughed with him. “I got the best of her after +all,” he boasted. “After it was all over we went into a little room at +the back of a saloon. I watched my chance and when she went to sleep +sitting in a chair I took eight dollars out of her stocking.” + +That night in the buggy beside Clara, Hugh thought of himself lying +by the river bank on the summer days. Dreams had come to him there, +sometimes gigantic dreams; but there had also come ugly thoughts and +desires. By his father's shack there was always the sharp rancid smell +of decaying fish and swarms of flies filled the air. Out in the clean +Ohio country, in the hills south of Bidwell, it seemed to him that the +smell of decaying fish came back, that it was in his clothes, that it +had in some way worked its way into his nature. He put up his hand +and swept it across his face, an unconscious return of the perpetual +movement of brushing flies away from his face as he lay half asleep by +the river. + +Little lustful thoughts kept coming to Hugh and made him ashamed. He +moved restlessly in the buggy seat and a lump came into his throat. +Again he looked at Clara. “I'm a poor white,” he thought. “It isn't +fitten I should marry this woman.” + +From the high spot in the road Clara looked down at her father's house +and below at the lights of the town, that had already spread so far over +the countryside, and up through the hills toward the farm where she had +spent her girlhood and where, as Jim Priest had said, “the sap had +begun to run up the tree.” She began to love the man who was to be +her husband, but like the dreamers of the town, saw him as something +a little inhuman, as a man almost gigantic in his bigness. Many things +Kate Chanceller had said as the two developing women walked and talked +in the streets of Columbus came back to her mind. When they had started +again along the road she continually worried the horse by tapping him +with the whip. Like Kate, Clara wanted to be fair and square. “A woman +should be fair and square, even with a man,” Kate had said. “The man I'm +going to have as a husband is simple and honest,” she thought. “If +there are things down there in town that are not square and fair, he +had nothing to do with them.” Realizing a little Hugh's difficulty +in expressing what he must feel, she wanted to help him, but when she +turned and saw how he did not look at her but continually stared into +the darkness, pride kept her silent. “I'll have to wait until he's +ready. Already I've taken things too much into my own hands. I'll put +through this marriage, but when it comes to anything else he'll have to +begin,” she told herself, and a lump came into her throat and tears to +her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +As he stood alone in the barnyard, excited at the thought of the +adventure on which Clara and Hugh had set out, Jim Priest remembered Tom +Butterworth. For more than thirty years Jim had worked for Tom and they +had one strong impulse that bound them together--their common love of +fine horses. More than once the two men had spent an afternoon together +in the grand stand at the fall trotting meeting at Cleveland. In the +late morning of such a day Tom found Jim wandering from stall to stall, +looking at the horses being rubbed down and prepared for the afternoon's +races. In a generous mood he bought his employee's lunch and took him to +a seat in the grand stand. All afternoon the two men watched the races, +smoked and quarreled. Tom contended that Bud Doble, the debonair, the +dramatic, the handsome, was the greatest of all race horse drivers, and +Jim Priest held Bud Doble in contempt. For him there was but one man of +all the drivers he whole-heartedly admired, Pop Geers, the shrewd and +silent. “That Geers of yours doesn't drive at all. He just sits up there +like a stick,” Tom grumbled. “If a horse can win all right, he'll ride +behind him all right. What I like to see is a driver. Now you look at +that Doble. You watch him bring a horse through the stretch.” + +Jim looked at his employer with something like pity in his eyes. “Huh,” + he exclaimed. “If you haven't got eyes you can't see.” + +The farm hand had two strong loves in his life, his employer's daughter +and the race horse driver, Geers. “Geers,” he declared, “was a man born +old and wise.” Often he had seen Geers at the tracks on a morning before +some important race. The driver sat on an upturned box in the sun before +one of the horse stalls. All about him there was the bantering talk of +horsemen and grooms. Bets were made and challenges given. On the +tracks nearby horses, not entered in the races for that day, were being +exercised. Their hoofbeats made a kind of music that made Jim's blood +tingle. Negroes laughed and horses put their heads out at stall doors. +The stallions neighed loudly and the heels of some impatient steed +rattled against the sides of a stall. + +Every one about the stalls talked of the events of the afternoon and Jim +leaned against the front of one of the stalls and listened, filled with +happiness. He wished the fates had made him a racing man. Then he looked +at Pop Geers, the silent one, who sat for hours dumb and uncommunicative +on a feed box, tapping lightly on the ground with his racing whip and +chewing straw. Jim's imagination was aroused. He had once seen +that other silent American, General Grant, and had been filled with +admiration for him. + +That was on a great day in Jim's life, the day on which he had seen +Grant going to receive Lee's surrender at Appomattox. There had been a +battle with the Union men pursuing the fleeing Rebs out of Richmond, and +Jim, having secured a bottle of whisky, and having a chronic dislike of +battles, had managed to creep away into a wood. In the distance he heard +shouts and presently saw several men riding furiously down a road. It +was Grant with his aides going to the place where Lee waited. They rode +to the place near where Jim sat with his back against a tree and the +bottle between his legs; then stopped. Then Grant decided not to take +part in the ceremony. His clothes were covered with mud and his beard +was ragged. He knew Lee and knew he would be dressed for the occasion. +He was that kind of a man; he was one fitted for historic pictures and +occasions. Grant wasn't. He told his aides to go on to the spot where +Lee waited, told them what arrangements were to be made, then jumped his +horse over a ditch and rode along a path under the trees toward the spot +where Jim lay. + +That was an event Jim never forgot. He was fascinated at the thought +of what the day meant to Grant and by his apparent indifference. He sat +silently by the tree and when Grant got off his horse and came near, +walking now in the path where the sunlight sifted down through the +trees, he closed his eyes. Grant came to where he sat and stopped, +apparently thinking him dead. His hand reached down and took the bottle +of whisky. For a moment they had something between them, Grant and Jim. +They both understood that bottle of whisky. Jim thought Grant was about +to drink, and opened his eyes a little. Then he closed them. The cork +was out of the bottle and Grant clutched it in his hand tightly. From +the distance there came a vast shout that was picked up and carried by +voices far away. The wood seemed to rock with it. “It's done. The war's +over,” Jim thought. Then Grant reached over and smashed the bottle +against the trunk of the tree above Jim's head. A piece of the flying +glass cut his cheek and blood came. He opened his eyes and looked +directly into Grant's eyes. For a moment the two men stared at each +other and the great shout again rolled over the country. Grant went +hurriedly along the path to where he had left his horse, and mounting, +rode away. + +Standing in the race track looking at Geers, Jim thought of Grant. Then +his mind came back to this other hero. “What a man!” he thought. “Here +he goes from town to town and from race track to race track all through +the spring, summer and fall, and he never loses his head, never gets +excited. To win horse races is the same as winning battles. When I'm at +home plowing corn on summer afternoons, this Geers is away somewhere +at some track with all the people gathered about and waiting. To me +it would be like being drunk all the time, but you see he isn't drunk. +Whisky could make him stupid. It couldn't make him drunk. There he +sits hunched up like a sleeping dog. He looks as though he cared about +nothing on earth, and he'll sit like that through three-quarters of the +hardest race, waiting, taking advantage of every little stretch of firm +hard ground on the track, saving his horse, watching, watching his horse +too, waiting. What a man! He works the horse into fourth place, into +third, into second. The crowd in the grand stand, such fellows as Tom +Butterworth, have not seen what he's doing. He sits still. By God, what +a man! He waits. He looks half asleep. If he doesn't have to do it, he +makes no effort. If the horse has it in him to win without help he sits +still. The people are shouting and jumping up out of their seats in the +grand stand, and if that Bud Doble has a horse in the race he's leaning +forward in the sulky, shouting at his horse and making a holy show of +himself. + +“Ha, that Geers! He waits. He doesn't think of the people but of the +horse he's driving. When the time comes, just the right time, that +Geers, he lets the horse know. They are one at that moment, like Grant +and I were over that bottle of whisky. Something happens between them. +Something inside the man says, 'now,' and the message runs along the +reins to the horse's brain. It flies down into his legs. There is a +rush. The head of the horse has just worked its way out in front by +inches--not too soon, nothing wasted. Ha, that Geers! Bud Doble, huh!” + +On the night of Clara's marriage after she and Hugh had disappeared +down the county seat road, Jim hurried into the barn and, bringing out +a horse, sprang on his back. He was sixty-three but could mount a horse +like a young man. As he rode furiously toward Bidwell he thought, not of +Clara and her adventure, but of her father. To both men the right kind +of marriage meant success in life for a woman. Nothing else really +mattered much if that were accomplished. He thought of Tom Butterworth, +who, he told himself, had fussed with Clara just as Bud Doble often +fussed with a horse in a race. He had himself been like Pop Geers. All +along he had known and understood the mare colt, Clara. Now she had come +through; she had won the race of life. + +“Ha, that old fool!” Jim whispered to himself as he rode swiftly down +the dark road. When the horse ran clattering over a small wooden bridge +and came to the first of the houses of the town, he felt like one coming +to announce a victory, and half expected a vast shout to come out of the +darkness, as it had come in the moment of Grant's victory over Lee. + +Jim could not find his employer at the hotel or in Main Street, but +remembered a tale he had heard whispered. Fanny Twist the milliner lived +in a little frame house in Garfield Street, far out at the eastern edge +of town, and he went there. He banged boldly on the door and the woman +appeared. “I've got to see Tom Butterworth,” he said. “It's important. +It's about his daughter. Something has happened to her.” + +The door closed and presently Tom came around the corner of the house. +He was furious. Jim's horse stood in the road, and he went straight +to him and took hold of the bit. “What do you mean by coming here?” he +asked sharply. “Who told you I was here? What business you got coming +here and making a show of yourself? What's the matter of you? Are you +drunk or out of your head?” + +Jim got off the horse and told Tom the news. For a moment the two stood +looking at each other. “Hugh McVey--Hugh McVey, by crackies, are you +right, Jim?” Tom exclaimed. “No missfire, eh? She's really gone and done +it? Hugh McVey, eh? By crackies!” + +“They're on the way to the county seat now,” Jim said softly. “Missfire! +Not on your life.” His voice lost the cool, quiet tone he had so often +dreamed of maintaining in great emergencies. “I figure they'll be back +by twelve or one,” he said eagerly. “We got to blow 'em out, Tom. We got +to give that girl and her husband the biggest blowout ever seen in this +county, and we got just about three hours to get ready for it.” + +“Get off that horse and give me a boost,” Tom commanded. With a grunt +of satisfaction he sprang to the horse's back. The belated impulse to +philander that an hour before sent him creeping through back streets and +alleyways to the door of Fanny Twist's house was all gone, and in its +place had come the spirit of the man of affairs, the man who, as he +himself often boasted, made things move and kept them on the move. “Now +look here, Jim,” he said sharply, “there are three livery stables in +this town. You engage every horse they've got for the night. Have the +horses hitched to any kind of rigs you can find, buggies, surreys, +spring wagons, anything. Have them get drivers off the streets, +anywhere. Then have them all brought around in front of the Bidwell +House and held for me. When you've done that, you go to Henry Heller's +house. I guess you can find it. You found this house where I was fast +enough. He lives on Campus Street just beyond the new Baptist Church. If +he's gone to bed you get him up. Tell him to get his orchestra together +and have him bring all the lively music he's got. Tell him to bring his +men to the Bidwell House as fast as he can get them there.” + +Tom rode off along the street followed by Jim Priest, running at the +horse's heels. When he had gone a little way he stopped. “Don't let any +one fuss with you about prices to-night, Jim,” he called. “Tell every +one it's for me. Tell 'em Tom Butterworth'll pay what they ask. The +sky's the limit to-night, Jim. That's the word, the sky's the limit.” + +To the older citizens of Bidwell, those who lived there when every +citizen's affairs were the affair of the town, that evening will be long +remembered. The new men, the Italians, Greeks, Poles, Rumanians, and +many other strange-talking, dark-skinned men who had come with the +coming of the factories, went on with their lives on that evening as on +all others. They worked in the night shift at the Corn-Cutting Machine +Plant, at the foundry, the bicycle factory or at the big new Tool +Machine Factory that had just moved to Bidwell from Cleveland. Those who +were not at work lounged in the streets or wandered aimlessly in and out +of saloons. Their wives and children were housed in the hundreds of new +frame houses in the streets that now crept out in all directions. In +those days in Bidwell new houses seemed to spring out of the ground like +mushrooms. In the morning there was a field or an orchard on Turner Pike +or on any one of a dozen roads leading out of town. On the trees in the +orchard green apples hung down waiting, ready to ripen. Grasshoppers +sang in the long grass beneath the trees. + +Then appeared Ben Peeler with a swarm of men. The trees were cut and +the song of the grasshopper choked beneath piles of boards. There was +a great shouting and rattling of hammers. A whole street of houses, all +alike, universally ugly, had been added to the vast number of new houses +already built by that energetic carpenter and his partner Gordon Hart. + +To the people who lived in these houses, the excitement of Tom +Butterworth and Jim Priest meant nothing. Half sullenly they worked, +striving to make money enough to take them back to their native lands. +In the new place they had not, as they had hoped, been received as +brothers. A marriage or a death there meant nothing to them. + +To the old townsmen however, those who remembered Tom when he was a +simple farmer and when Steve Hunter was looked upon with contempt as a +boasting young squirt, the night rocked with excitement. Men ran +through the streets. Drivers lashed their horses along roads. Tom +was everywhere. He was like a general in charge of the defenses of a +besieged town. The cooks at all three of the town's hotels were sent +back into their kitchens, waiters were found and hurried out to the +Butterworth house, and Henry Heller's orchestra was instructed to get +out there at once and to start playing the liveliest possible music. + +Tom asked every man and woman he saw to the wedding party. The hotel +keeper was invited with his wife and daughter and two or three keepers +of stores who came to the hotel to bring supplies were asked, commanded +to come. Then there were the men of the factories, the office men and +superintendents, new men who had never seen Clara. They also, with the +town bankers and other solid fellows with money in the banks, who were +investors in Tom's enterprises, were invited. “Put on the best clothes +you've got in the world and have your women folks do the same,” he +said laughing. “Then you get out to my house as soon as you can. If you +haven't any way to get there, come to the Bidwell House. I'll get you +out.” + +Tom did not forget that in order to have his wedding party go as he +wished, he would need to serve drinks. Jim Priest went from bar to +bar. “What wine you got--good wine? How much you got?” he asked at +each place. Steve Hunter had in the cellar of his house six cases of +champagne kept there against a time when some important guest, the +Governor of the State or a Congressman, might come to town. He felt that +on such occasions it was up to him to see that the town, as he said, +“did itself proud.” When he heard what was going on he hurried to the +Bidwell House and offered to send his entire stock of wine out to Tom's +house, and his offer was accepted. + + * * * * * + +Jim Priest had an idea. When the guests were all assembled and when the +farm kitchen was filled with cooks and waiters who stumbled over each +other, he took his idea to Tom. There was, he explained, a short-cut +through fields and along lanes to a point on the county seat road, three +miles from the house. “I'll go there and hide myself,” he said. “When +they come along, suspecting nothing, I'll cut out on horseback and get +here a half hour before them. You make every one in the house hide and +keep still when they drive into the yard. We'll put out all the lights. +We'll give that pair the surprise of their lives.” + +Jim had concealed a quart bottle of wine in his pocket and, as he rode +away on his mission, stopped from time to time to take a hearty drink. +As his horse trotted along lanes and through fields, the horse that was +bringing Clara and Hugh home from their adventure cocked his ears and +remembered the comfortable stall filled with hay in the Butterworth +barn. The horse trotted swiftly along and Hugh in the buggy beside Clara +was lost in the same dense silence that all the evening had lain over +him like a cloak. In a dim way he was resentful and felt that time was +running too fast. The hours and the passing events were like the waters +of a river in flood time, and he was like a man in a boat without oars, +being carried helplessly forward. Occasionally he thought courage had +come to him and he half turned toward Clara and opened his mouth, hoping +words would come to his lips, but the silence that had taken hold of +him was like a disease whose grip on its victim could not be broken. He +closed his mouth and wet his lips with his tongue. Clara saw him do the +thing several times. He began to seem animal-like and ugly to her. “It's +not true that I thought of her and asked her to be my wife only because +I wanted a woman,” Hugh reassured himself. “I've been lonely, all my +life I've been lonely. I want to find my way into some one's heart, and +she is the one.” + +Clara also remained silent. She was angry. “If he didn't want to marry +me, why did he ask me? Why did he come?” she asked herself. “Well, I'm +married. I've done the thing we women are always thinking about,” she +told herself, her mind taking another turn. The thought frightened +her and a shiver of dread ran over her body. Then her mind went to the +defense of Hugh. “It isn't his fault. I shouldn't have rushed things as +I have. Perhaps I'm not meant for marriage at all,” she thought. + +The ride homeward dragged on indefinitely. The clouds were blown out +of the sky, the moon came out and the stars looked down on the two +perplexed people. To relieve the feeling of tenseness that had taken +hold of her Clara's mind resorted to a trick. Her eyes sought out a tree +or the lights of a farmhouse far ahead and she tried to count the +hoof beats of the horse until they had come to it. She wanted to hurry +homeward and at the same time looked forward with dread to the night +alone in the dark farmhouse with Hugh. Not once during the homeward +drive did she take the whip out of its socket or speak to the horse. + +When at last the horse trotted eagerly across the crest of the hill, +from which there was such a magnificent view of the country below, +neither Clara nor Hugh turned to look. With bowed heads they rode, each +trying to find courage to face the possibilities of the night. + + * * * * * + +In the farmhouse Tom and his guests waited in winelit suspense, and +at last Jim Priest rode shouting out of a lane to the door. “They're +coming--they're coming,” he shouted, and ten minutes later and after Tom +had twice lost his temper and cursed the girl waitresses from the town +hotels who were inclined to giggle, all was silent and dark about the +house and the barnyard. When all was quiet Jim Priest crept into the +kitchen, and stumbling over the legs of the guests, made his way to a +front window where he placed a lighted candle. Then he went out of the +house to lie on his back beneath a bush in the yard. In the house he +had secured for himself a second bottle of wine, and as Clara with her +husband turned in at the gate and drove into the barnyard, the only +sound that broke the intense silence came from the soft gurgle of the +wine finding its way down his throat. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +As in most older American homes, the kitchen at the rear of the +Butterworth farmhouse was large and comfortable. Much of the life of +the house had been led there. Clara sat in a deep window that looked out +across a little gully where in the spring a small stream ran down along +the edge of the barnyard. She was then a quiet child and loved to sit +for hours unobserved and undisturbed. At her back was the kitchen with +the warm, rich smells and the soft, quick, persistent footsteps of her +mother. Her eyes closed and she slept. Then she awoke. Before her lay a +world into which her fancy could creep out. Across the stream before her +eyes went a small, wooden bridge and over this in the spring horses went +away to the fields or to sheds where they were hitched to milk or ice +wagons. The sound of the hoofs of the horses pounding on the bridge was +like thunder, harnesses rattled, voices shouted. Beyond the bridge was a +path leading off to the left and along the path were three small houses +where hams were smoked. Men came from the wagon sheds bearing the meat +on their shoulders and went into the little houses. Fires were lighted +and smoke crawled lazily up through the roofs. In a field that lay +beyond the smoke houses a man came to plow. The child, curled into a +little, warm ball in the window seat, was happy. When she closed her +eyes fancies came like flocks of white sheep running out of a green +wood. Although she was later to become a tomboy and run wild over the +farm and through the barns, and although all her life she loved the +soil and the sense of things growing and of food for hungry mouths being +prepared, there was in her, even as a child, a hunger for the life of +the spirit. In her dreams women, beautifully gowned and with rings on +their hands, came to brush the wet, matted hair back from her forehead. +Across the little wooden bridge before her eyes came wonderful men, +women, and children. The children ran forward. They cried out to her. +She thought of them as brothers and sisters who were to come to live in +the farmhouse and who were to make the old house ring with laughter. The +children ran toward her with outstretched hands, but never arrived at +the house. The bridge extended itself. It stretched out under their feet +so that they ran forward forever on the bridge. + +And behind the children came men and women, sometimes together, +sometimes walking alone. They did not seem like the children to belong +to her. Like the women who came to touch her hot forehead, they were +beautifully gowned and walked with stately dignity. + +The child climbed out of the window and stood on the kitchen floor. Her +mother hurried about. She was feverishly active and often did not hear +when the child spoke. “I want to know about my brothers and sisters: +where are they, why don't they come here?” she asked, but the mother did +not hear, and if she did, had nothing to say. Sometimes she stopped to +kiss the child and tears came to her eyes. Then something cooking on the +kitchen stove demanded attention. “You run outside,” she said hurriedly, +and turned again to her work. + + * * * * * + +From the chair where Clara sat at the wedding feast provided by the +energy of her father and the enthusiasm of Jim Priest, she could see +over her father's shoulder into the farm house kitchen. As when she was +a child, she closed her eyes and dreamed of another kind of feast. +With a growing sense of bitterness she realized that all her life, all +through her girlhood and young womanhood, she had been waiting for this, +her wedding night, and that now, having come, the occasion for which she +had waited so long and concerning which she had dreamed so many dreams, +had aborted into an occasion for the display of ugliness and vulgarity. +Her father, the only other person in the room in any way related to +her, sat at the other end of the long table. Her aunt had gone away on +a visit, and in the crowded, noisy room there was no woman to whom she +could turn for understanding. She looked past her father's shoulder and +directly into the wide window seat where she had spent so many hours of +her childhood. Again she wanted brothers and sisters. “The beautiful men +and women of the dreams were meant to come at this time, that's what +the dreams were about; but, like the unborn children that ran with +outstretched hands, they cannot get over the bridge and into the house,” + she thought vaguely. “I wish Mother had lived, or that Kate Chanceller +were here,” she whispered to herself as, raising her eyes, she looked at +her father. + +Clara felt like an animal driven into a corner and surrounded by foes. +Her father sat at the feast between two women, Mrs. Steve Hunter who was +inclined to corpulency, and a thin woman named Bowles, the wife of an +undertaker of Bidwell. They continually whispered, smiled, and nodded +their heads. Hugh sat on the opposite side of the same table, and when +he raised his eyes from the plate of food before him, could see past the +head of a large, masculine-looking woman into the farmhouse parlor where +there was another table, also filled with guests. Clara turned from +looking at her father to look at her husband. He was merely a tall man +with a long face, who could not raise his eyes. His long neck stuck +itself out of a stiff white collar. To Clara he was, at the moment, a +being without personality, one that the crowd at the table had swallowed +up as it so busily swallowed food and wine. When she looked at him he +seemed to be drinking a good deal. His glass was always being filled and +emptied. At the suggestion of the woman who sat beside him, he performed +the task of emptying it, without raising his eyes, and Steve Hunter, +who sat on the other side of the table, leaned over and filled it again. +Steve like her father whispered and winked. “On the night of my wedding +I was piped, you bet, as piped as a hatter. It's a good thing. It gives +a man nerve,” he explained to the masculine-looking woman to whom he was +telling, with a good deal of attention to details, the tale of his own +marriage night. + +Clara did not look at Hugh again. What he did seemed no concern of hers. +Bowles the Bidwell undertaker had surrendered to the influence of the +wine that had been flowing freely since the guests arrived and now got +to his feet and began to talk. His wife tugged at his coat and tried to +force him back into his seat, but Tom Butterworth jerked her arm away. +“Ah, let him alone. He's got a story to tell,” he said to the woman, +who blushed and put her handkerchief over her face. “Well, it's a fact, +that's how it happened,” the undertaker declared in a loud voice. “You +see the sleeves of her nightgown were tied in hard knots by her rascally +brothers. When I tried to unfasten them with my teeth I bit big holes in +the sleeves.” + +Clara gripped the arm of her chair. “If I can let the night pass without +showing these people how much I hate them I'll do well enough,” she +thought grimly. She looked at the dishes laden with food and wished she +could break them one by one over the heads of her father's guests. As a +relief to her mind, she again looked past her father's head and through +a doorway into the kitchen. + +In the big room three or four cooks were busily engaged in the +preparation of food, and waitresses continually brought steaming dishes +and put them on the tables. She thought of her mother's life, the life +led in that room, married to the man who was her own father and who no +doubt, but for the fact that circumstances had made him a man of wealth, +would have been satisfied to see his daughter led into just such another +life. + +“Kate was right about men. They want something from women, but what do +they care what kind of lives we lead after they get what they want?” she +thought grimly. + +The more to separate herself from the feasting, laughing crowd, Clara +tried to think out the details of her mother's life. “It was the life +of a beast,” she thought. Like herself, her mother had come to the +house with her husband on the night of her marriage. There was just such +another feast. The country was new then and the people for the most part +desperately poor. Still there was drinking. She had heard her father and +Jim Priest speak of the drinking bouts of their youth. The men came +as they had come now, and with them came women, women who had been +coarsened by the life they led. Pigs were killed and game brought from +the forests. The men drank, shouted, fought, and played practical jokes. +Clara wondered if any of the men and women in the room would dare go +upstairs into her sleeping room and tie knots in her night clothes. They +had done that when her mother came to the house as a bride. Then they +had all gone away and her father had taken his bride upstairs. He was +drunk, and her own husband Hugh was now getting drunk. Her mother had +submitted. Her life had been a story of submission. Kate Chanceller had +said it was so married women lived, and her mother's life had proven +the truth of the statement. In the farmhouse kitchen, where now three or +four cooks worked so busily, she had worked her life out alone. From the +kitchen she had gone directly upstairs and to bed with her husband. Once +a week on Saturday afternoons she went into town and stayed long enough +to buy supplies for another week of cooking. “She must have been kept +going until she dropped down dead,” Clara thought, and her mind taking +another turn, added, “and many others, both men and women, must have +been forced by circumstances to serve my father in the same blind way. +It was all done in order that prosperity and money with which to do +vulgar things might be his.” + +Clara's mother had brought but one child into the world. She wondered +why. Then she wondered if she would become the mother of a child. Her +hands no longer gripped the arms of her chair, but lay on the table +before her. She looked at them and they were strong. She was herself +a strong woman. After the feast was over and the guests had gone away, +Hugh, given courage by the drinks he continued to consume, would come +upstairs to her. Some twist of her mind made her forget her husband, +and in fancy she felt herself about to be attacked by a strange man on +a dark road at the edge of a forest. The man had tried to take her +into his arms and kiss her and she had managed to get her hands on his +throat. Her hands lying on the table twitched convulsively. + +In the big farmhouse dining-room and in the parlor where the second +table of guests sat, the wedding feast went on. Afterward when she +thought of it, Clara always remembered her wedding feast as a horsey +affair. Something in the natures of Tom Butterworth and Jim Priest, she +thought, expressed itself that night. The jokes that went up and down +the table were horsey, and Clara thought the women who sat at the tables +heavy and mare-like. + +Jim did not come to the table to sit with the others, was in fact not +invited, but all evening he kept appearing and reappearing and had the +air of a master of ceremonies. Coming into the dining room he stood by +the door, scratching his head. Then he went out. It was as though he had +said to himself, “Well, it's all right, everything is going all right, +everything is lively, you see.” All his life Jim had been a drinker of +whisky and knew his limitations. His system as a drinking man had always +been quite simple. On Saturday afternoons, when the work about the barns +was done for the day and the other employees had gone away, he went +to sit on the steps of a corncrib with the bottle in his hand. In the +winter he went to sit by the kitchen fire in a little house below the +apple orchard where he and the other employees slept. He took a long +drink from the bottle and then holding it in his hand sat for a +time thinking of the events of his life. Whisky made him somewhat +sentimental. After one long drink he thought of his youth in a town in +Pennsylvania. He had been one of six children, all boys, and at an early +age his mother had died. Jim thought of her and then of his father. When +he had himself come west into Ohio, and later when he was a soldier in +the Civil War, he despised his father and reverenced the memory of his +mother. In the war he had found himself physically unable to stand up +before the enemy during a battle. When the report of guns was heard +and the other men of his company got grimly into line and went forward, +something happened to his legs and he wanted to run away. So great +was the desire in him that craftiness grew in his brain. Watching his +chance, he pretended to have been shot and fell to the ground, and when +the others had gone on crept away and hid himself. He found it was not +impossible to disappear altogether and reappear in another place. The +draft went into effect and many men not liking the notion of war were +willing to pay large sums to the men who would go in their places. Jim +went into the business of enlisting and deserting. All about him were +men talking of the necessity of saving the country, and for four years +he thought only of saving his own hide. Then suddenly the war was over +and he became a farm hand. As he worked all week in the fields, and in +the evening sometimes, as he lay in his bed and the moon came up, he +thought of his mother and of the nobility and sacrifice of her life. He +wished to be such another. After having two or three drinks out of the +bottle, he admired his father, who in the Pennsylvania town had borne +the reputation of being a liar and a rascal. After his mother's death +his father had managed to marry a widow who owned a farm. “The old +man was a slick one,” he said aloud, tipping up the bottle and +taking another long drink. “If I had stayed at home until I got more +understanding, the old man and I together might have done something.” + He finished the bottle and went away to sleep on the hay, or if it +were winter, threw himself into one of the bunks in the bunk house. +He dreamed of becoming one who went through life beating people out of +money, living by his wits, getting the best of every one. + +Until the night of Clara's wedding Jim had never tasted wine, and as +it did not bring on a desire for sleep, he thought himself unaffected. +“It's like sweetened water,” he said, going into the darkness of the +barnyard and emptying another half bottle down his throat. “The stuff +has no kick. Drinking it is like drinking sweet cider.” + +Jim got into a frolicsome mood and went through the crowded kitchen and +into the dining room where the guests were assembled. At the moment the +rather riotous laughter and story telling had ceased and everything +was quiet. He was worried. “Things aren't going well. Clara's party +is becoming a frost,” he thought resentfully. He began to dance a +heavy-footed jig on a little open place by the kitchen door and the +guests stopped talking to watch. They shouted and clapped their hands. A +thunder of applause arose. The guests who were seated in the parlor and +who could not see the performance got up and crowded into the doorway +that connected the two rooms. Jim became extraordinarily bold, and as +one of the young women Tom had hired as waitresses at that moment went +past bearing a large dish of food, he swung himself quickly about and +took her into his arms. The dish flew across the floor and broke against +a table leg and the young woman screamed. A farm dog that had found +its way into the kitchen rushed into the room and barked loudly. Henry +Heller's orchestra, concealed under a stairway that led to the upper +part of the house, began to play furiously. A strange animal fervor +swept over Jim. His legs flew rapidly about and his heavy feet made a +great clatter on the floor. The young woman in his arms screamed and +laughed. Jim closed his eyes and shouted. He felt that the wedding party +had until that moment been a failure and that he was transforming it +into a success. Rising to their feet the men shouted, clapped their +hands and beat with their fists on the table. When the orchestra came +to the end of the dance, Jim stood flushed and triumphant before the +guests, holding the woman in his arms. In spite of her struggles he held +her tightly against his breast and kissed her eyes, cheeks, and mouth. +Then releasing her he winked and made a gesture for silence. “On +a wedding night some one's got to have the nerve to do a little +love-making,” he said, looking pointedly toward the place where Hugh sat +with head bent and with his eyes staring at a glass of wine that sat at +his elbow. + + * * * * * + +It was past two o'clock when the feast came to an end. When the guests +began to depart, Clara stood for a moment alone and tried to get herself +in hand. Something inside her felt cold and old. If she had often +thought she wanted a man, and that life as a married woman would put an +end to her problems, she did not think so at that moment. “What I want +above everything else is a woman,” she thought. All the evening her mind +had been trying to clutch and hold the almost forgotten figure of her +mother, but it was too vague and shadowy. With her mother she had never +walked and talked late at night through streets of towns when the world +was asleep and when thoughts were born in herself. “After all,” she +thought, “Mother may also have belonged to all this.” She looked at the +people preparing to depart. Several men had gathered in a group by the +door. One of them told a story at which the others laughed loudly. The +women standing about had flushed and, Clara thought, coarse faces. +“They have gone into marriage like cattle,” she told herself. Her mind, +running out of the room, began to caress the memory of her one woman +friend, Kate Chanceller. Often on late spring afternoons as she and Kate +had walked together something very like love-making had happened between +them. They went along quietly and evening came on. Suddenly they stopped +in the street and Kate had put her arms about Clara's shoulders. For +a moment they stood thus close together and a strange gentle and yet +hungry look came into Kate's eyes. It only lasted a moment and when it +happened both women were somewhat embarrassed. Kate laughed and taking +hold of Clara's arm pulled her along the sidewalk. “Let's walk like the +devil,” she said, “come on, let's get up some speed.” + +Clara put her hands to her eyes as though to shut out the scene in the +room. “If I could have been with Kate this evening I could have come to +a man believing in the possible sweetness of marriage,” she thought. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Jim Priest was very drunk, but insisted on hitching a team to the +Butterworth carriage and driving it loaded with guests to town. Every +one laughed at him, but he drove up to the farmhouse door and in a +loud voice declared he knew what he was doing. Three men got into the +carriage and beating the horses furiously Jim sent them galloping away. + +When an opportunity offered, Clara went silently out of the hot +dining-room and through a door to a porch at the back of the house. +The kitchen door was open and the waitresses and cooks from town were +preparing to depart. One of the young women came out into the darkness +accompanied by a man, evidently one of the guests. They had both been +drinking and stood for a moment in the darkness with their bodies +pressed together. “I wish it were our wedding night,” the man's voice +whispered, and the woman laughed. After a long kiss they went back into +the kitchen. + +A farm dog appeared and going up to Clara licked her hand. She went +around the house and stood back of a bush in the darkness near where the +carriages were being loaded. Her father with Steve Hunter and his wife +came and got into a carriage. Tom was in an expansive, generous mood. +“You know, Steve, I told you and several others my Clara was engaged to +Alfred Buckley,” he said. “Well, I was mistaken. The whole thing was a +lie. The truth is I shot off my mouth without talking to Clara. I had +seen them together and now and then Buckley used to come out here to the +house in the evening, although he never came except when I was here. +He told me Clara had promised to marry him, and like a fool I took his +word. I never even asked. That's the kind of a fool I was and I was a +bigger fool to go telling the story. All the time Clara and Hugh were +engaged and I never suspected. They told me about it to-night.” + +Clara stood by the bush until she thought the last of the guests had +gone. The lie her father had told seemed only a part of the evening's +vulgarity. Near the kitchen door the waitresses, cooks and musicians +were being loaded into the bus that had been driven out from the Bidwell +House. She went into the dining-room. Sadness had taken the place of the +anger in her, but when she saw Hugh the anger came back. Piles of dishes +filled with food lay all about the room and the air was heavy with +the smell of food. Hugh stood by a window looking out into the dark +farmyard. He held his hat in his hand. “You might put your hat away,” + she said sharply. “Have you forgotten you're married to me and that you +now live here in this house?” She laughed nervously and walked to the +kitchen door. + +Her mind still clung to the past and to the days when she was a child +and had spent so many hours in the big, silent kitchen. Something was +about to happen that would take her past away--destroy it, and the +thought frightened her. “I have not been very happy in this house +but there have been certain moments, certain feelings I've had,” she +thought. Stepping through the doorway she stood for a moment in the +kitchen with her back to the wall and with her eyes closed. Through +her mind went a troop of figures, the stout determined figure of Kate +Chanceller who had known how to love in silence; the wavering, hurrying +figure of her mother; her father as a young man coming in after a long +drive to warm his hands by the kitchen fire; a strong, hard-faced woman +from town who had once worked for Tom as cook and who was reported to +have been the mother of two illegitimate children; and the figures +of her childhood fancy walking over the bridge toward her, clad in +beautiful raiment. + +Back of these figures were other figures, long forgotten but now sharply +remembered--farm girls who had come to work by the day; tramps who had +been fed at the kitchen door; young farm hands who suddenly disappeared +from the routine of the farm's life and were never seen again, a young +man with a red bandana handkerchief about his neck who had thrown her a +kiss as she stood with her face pressed against a window. + +Once a high school girl from town had come to spend the night with +Clara. After the evening meal the two girls walked into the kitchen +and stood by a window, looking out. Something had happened within them. +Moved by a common impulse they went outside and walked for a long way +under the stars along the silent country roads. They came to a field +where men were burning brush. Where there had been a forest there was +now only a stump field and the figures of the men carrying armloads of +the dry branches of trees and throwing them on the fire. The fire made +a great splash of color in the gathering darkness and for some obscure +reason both girls were deeply moved by the sight, sound, and perfume of +the night. The figures of the men seemed to dance back and forth in +the light. Instinctively Clara turned her face upward and looked at +the stars. She was conscious of them and of their beauty and the wide +sweeping beauty of night as she had never been before. A wind began +to sing in the trees of a distant forest, dimly seen far away across +fields. The sound was soft and insistent and crept into her soul. In +the grass at her feet insects sang an accompaniment to the soft, distant +music. + +How vividly Clara now remembered that night! It came sharply back as +she stood with closed eyes in the farm kitchen and waited for the +consummation of the adventure on which she had set out. With it came +other memories. “How many fleeting dreams and half visions of beauty I +have had!” she thought. + +Everything in life that she had thought might in some way lead toward +beauty now seemed to Clara to lead to ugliness. “What a lot I've +missed,” she muttered, and opening her eyes went back into the +dining-room and spoke to Hugh, still standing and staring out into the +darkness. + +“Come,” she said sharply, and led the way up a stairway. The two went +silently up the stairs, leaving the lights burning brightly in the rooms +below. They came to a door leading to a bedroom, and Clara opened it. +“It's time for a man and his wife to go to bed,” she said in a low, +husky voice. Hugh followed her into the room. He walked to a chair by a +window and sitting down, took off his shoes and sat holding them in his +hand. He did not look at Clara but into the darkness outside the window. +Clara let down her hair and began to unfasten her dress. She took off +an outer dress and threw it over a chair. Then she went to a drawer +and pulling it out looked for a night dress. She became angry and threw +several garments on the floor. “Damn!” she said explosively, and went +out of the room. + +Hugh sprang to his feet. The wine he had drunk had not taken effect and +Steve Hunter had been forced to go home disappointed. All the evening +something stronger than wine had been gripping him. Now he knew what it +was. All through the evening thoughts and desires had whirled through +his brain. Now they were all gone. “I won't let her do it,” he muttered, +and running quickly to the door closed it softly. With the shoes still +held in his hand he crawled through a window. He had expected to leap +into the darkness, but by chance his stocking feet alighted on the roof +of the farm kitchen that extended out from the rear of the house. He ran +quickly down the roof and jumped, alighting in a clump of bushes that +tore long scratches on his cheeks. + +For five minutes Hugh ran toward the town of Bidwell, then turned, and +climbing a fence, walked across a field. The shoes were still gripped +tightly in his hand and the field was stony, but he did not notice and +was unconscious of pain from his bruised feet or from the torn places +on his cheeks. Standing in the field he heard Jim Priest drive homeward +along the road. + + “My bonny lies over the ocean, + My bonny lies over the sea, + My bonny lies over the ocean, + O, bring back my bonny to me.” + +sang the farm hand. + +Hugh walked across several fields, and when he came to a small stream, +sat down on the bank and put on his shoes. “I've had my chance and +missed it,” he thought bitterly. Several times he repeated the words. +“I've had my chance and I've missed,” he said again as he stopped by +a fence that separated the fields in which he had been walking. At the +words he stopped and put his hand to his throat. A half-stifled sob +broke from him. “I've had my chance and missed,” he said again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +On the day after the feast managed by Tom and Jim, it was Tom who +brought Hugh back to live with his wife. The older man had come to the +farmhouse on the next morning bringing three women from town who were, +as he explained to Clara, to clear away the mess left by the guests. +The daughter had been deeply touched by what Hugh had done, and at the +moment loved him deeply, but did not choose to let her father know how +she felt. “I suppose you got him drunk, you and your friends,” she said. +“At any rate, he's not here.” + +Tom said nothing, but when Clara had told the story of Hugh's +disappearance, drove quickly away. “He'll come to the shop,” he thought +and went there, leaving his horse tied to a post in front. At two +o'clock his son-in-law came slowly over the Turner's Pike bridge and +approached the shop. He was hatless and his clothes and hair were +covered with dust, while in his eyes was the look of a hunted animal. +Tom met him with a smile and asked no questions. “Come,” he said, and +taking Hugh by the arm led him to the buggy. As he untied the horse +he stopped to light a cigar. “I'm going down to one of my lower farms. +Clara thought you would like to go with me,” he said blandly. + +Tom drove to the McCoy house and stopped. + +“You'd better clean up a little,” he said without looking at Hugh. “You +go in and shave and change your clothes. I'm going up-town. I got to go +to a store.” + +Driving a short distance along the road, Tom stopped and shouted. “You +might pack your grip and bring it along,” he called. “You'll be needing +your things. We won't be back here to-day.” + +The two men stayed together all that day, and in the evening Tom took +Hugh to the farmhouse and stayed for the evening meal. “He was a little +drunk,” he explained to Clara. “Don't be hard on him. He was a little +drunk.” + +For both Clara and Hugh that evening was the hardest of their lives. +After the servants had gone, Clara sat under a lamp in the dining-room +and pretended to read a book and in desperation Hugh also tried to read. + +Again the time came to go upstairs to the bedroom, and again Clara led +the way. She went to the door of the room from which Hugh had fled and +opening it stepped aside. Then she put out her hand. “Good-night,” she +said, and going down a hallway went into another room and closed the +door. + +Hugh's experience with the school teacher was repeated on that second +night in the farmhouse. He took off his shoes and prepared for bed. Then +he crept out into the hallway and went softly to the door of Clara's +room. Several times he made the journey along the carpeted hallway, and +once his hand was on the knob of the door, but each time he lost heart +and returned to his own room. Although he did not know it Clara, like +Rose McCoy on that other occasion, expected him to come to her, and +knelt on the floor just inside the door, waiting, hoping for, and +fearing the coming of the man. + +Unlike the school teacher, Clara wanted to help Hugh. Marriage had +perhaps given her that impulse, but she did not follow it, and when at +last Hugh, shaken and ashamed, gave up the struggle with himself, she +arose and went to her bed where she threw herself down and wept, as Hugh +had wept standing in the darkness of the fields on the night before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +It was a hot, dusty day, a week after Hugh's marriage to Clara, and Hugh +was at work in his shop at Bidwell. How many days, weeks, and months he +had already worked there, thinking in iron--twisted, turned, tortured +to follow the twistings and turnings of his mind--standing all day by +a bench beside other workmen--before him always the little piles +of wheels, strips of unworked iron and steel, blocks of wood, the +paraphernalia of the inventor's trade. Beside him, now that money had +come to him, more and more workmen, men who had invented nothing, who +were without distinction in the life of the community, who had married +no rich man's daughter. + +In the morning the other workmen, skillful fellows, who knew as Hugh had +never known, the science of their iron craft, came straggling through +the shop door into his presence. They were a little embarrassed before +him. The greatness of his name rang in their minds. + +Many of the workmen were husbands, fathers of families. In the morning +they left their houses gladly but nevertheless came somewhat reluctantly +to the shop. As they came along the street, past other houses, they +smoked a morning pipe. Groups were formed. Many legs straggled along +the street. At the door of the shop each man stopped. There was a sharp +tapping sound. Pipe bowls were knocked out against the door sill. Before +he came into the shop, each man looked out across the open country that +stretched away to the north. + +For a week Hugh had been married to a woman who had not yet become his +wife. She belonged, still belonged, to a world he had thought of as +outside the possibilities of his life. Was she not young, strong, +straight of body? Did she not array herself in what seemed unbelievably +beautiful clothes? The clothes she wore were a symbol of herself. For +him she was unattainable. + +And yet she had consented to become his wife, had stood with him before +a man who had said words about honor and obedience. + +Then there had come the two terrible evenings--when he had gone back to +the farmhouse with her to find the wedding feast set in their honor, +and that other evening when old Tom had brought him to the farmhouse +a defeated, frightened man who hoped the woman would put out her hand, +would reassure him. + +Hugh was sure he had missed the great opportunity of his life. He had +married, but his marriage was not a marriage. He had got himself into +a position from which there was no possibility of escaping. “I'm a +coward,” he thought, looking at the other workmen in the shop. They, +like himself, were married men and lived in a house with a woman. At +night they went boldly into the presence of the woman. He had not done +that when the opportunity offered, and Clara could not come to him. He +could understand that. His hands had builded a wall and the passing days +were huge stones put on top of the wall. What he had not done became +every day a more and more impossible thing to do. + +Tom, having taken Hugh back to Clara, was still concerned over the +outcome of their adventure. Every day he came to the shop and in the +evening came to see them at the farmhouse. He hovered about, was like a +mother bird whose offspring had been prematurely pushed out of the nest. +Every morning he came into the shop to talk with Hugh. He made jokes +about married life. Winking at a man standing nearby he put his hand +familiarly on Hugh's shoulder. “Well, how does married life go? It seems +to me you're a little pale,” he said laughing. + +In the evening he came to the farmhouse and sat talking of his affairs, +of the progress and growth of the town and his part in it. Without +hearing his words both Clara and Hugh sat in silence, pretending to +listen, glad of his presence. + +Hugh came to the shop at eight. On other mornings, all through that long +week of waiting, Clara had driven him to his work, the two riding in +silence down Medina Road and through the crowded streets of the town; +but on that morning he had walked. + +On Medina Road, near the bridge where he had once stood with Clara and +where he had seen her hot with anger, something had happened, a trivial +thing. A male bird pursued a female among the bushes beside the road. +The two feathered, living creatures, vividly colored, alive with life, +pitched and swooped through the air. They were like moving balls of +light going in and out of the dark green of foliage. There was in them a +madness, a riot of life. + +Hugh had been tricked into stopping by the roadside. A tangle of things +that had filled his mind, the wheels, cogs, levers, all the intricate +parts of the hay-loading machine, the things that lived in his mind +until his hand had made them into facts, were blown away like dust. +For a moment he watched the living riotous things and then, as though +jerking himself back into a path from which his feet had wandered, +hurried onward to the shop, looking as he went not into the branches of +trees, but downward at the dust of the road. + +In the shop Hugh tried all morning to refurnish the warehouse of his +mind, to put back into it the things blown so recklessly away. At ten +Tom came in, talked for a moment and then flitted away. “You are still +there. My daughter still has you. You have not run away again,” he +seemed to be saying to himself. + +The day grew warm and the sky, seen through the shop window by the bench +where Hugh tried to work, was overcast with clouds. + +At noon the workmen went away, but Clara, who on other days had come +to drive Hugh to the farmhouse for lunch, did not appear. When all was +silent in the shop he stopped work, washed his hands and put on his +coat. + +He went to the shop door and then came back to the bench. Before him +lay an iron wheel on which he had been at work. It was intended to drive +some intricate part of the hay-loading machine. Hugh took it in his hand +and carried it to the back of the shop where there was an anvil. Without +consciousness and scarcely realizing what he did he laid it on the anvil +and taking a great sledge in his hand swung it over his head. + +The blow struck was terrific. Into it Hugh put all of his protest +against the grotesque position into which he had been thrown by his +marriage to Clara. + +The blow accomplished nothing. The sledge descended and the +comparatively delicate metal wheel was twisted, knocked out of shape. It +spurted from under the head of the sledge and shot past Hugh's head and +out through a window, breaking a pane of glass. Fragments of the broken +glass fell with a sharp little tinkling sound upon a heap of twisted +pieces of iron and steel lying beside the anvil.... + +Hugh did not eat lunch that day nor did he go to the farmhouse or return +to work at the shop. He walked, but this time did not walk in country +roads where male and female birds dart in and out of bushes. An intense +desire to know something intimate and personal concerning men and women +and the lives they led in their houses had taken possession of him. He +walked in the daylight up and down in the streets of Bidwell. + +To the right, over the bridge leading out of Turner's Road, the main +street of Bidwell ran along a river bank. In that direction the hills +out of the country to the south came down to the river's edge and there +was a high bluff. On the bluff and back of it on a sloping hillside many +of the more pretentious new houses of the prosperous Bidwell citizens +had been built. Facing the river were the largest houses, with grounds +in which trees and shrubs had been planted and in the streets along the +hill, less and less pretentious as they receded from the river, were +other houses built and being built, long rows of houses, long streets of +houses, houses in brick, stone, and wood. + +Hugh went from the river front back into this maze of streets and +houses. Some instinct led him there. It was where the men and women +of Bidwell who had prospered and had married went to live, to make +themselves houses. His father-in-law had offered to buy him a river +front place and already that meant much in Bidwell. + +He wanted to see women who, like Clara, had got themselves husbands, +what they were like. “I've seen enough of men,” he thought half +resentfully as he went along. + +All afternoon he walked in streets, going up and down before houses in +which women lived with their men. A detached mood had possession of +him. For an hour he stood under a tree idly watching workmen engaged in +building another house. When one of the workmen spoke to him he walked +away and went into a street where men were laying a cement pavement +before a completed house. + +In a furtive way he kept looking about for women, hungering to see their +faces. “What are they up to? I'd like to find out,” his mind seemed to +be saying. + +The women came out of the doors of the houses and passed him as he went +slowly along. Other women in carriages drove in the streets. They were +well-dressed women and seemed sure of themselves. “Things are all right +with me. For me things are settled and arranged,” they seemed to say. +All the streets in which he walked seemed to be telling the story of +things settled and arranged. The houses spoke of the same things. “I am +a house. I am not built until things are settled and arranged. I mean +that,” they said. + +Hugh grew very tired. In the later afternoon a small bright-eyed +woman--no doubt she had been one of the guests at his wedding +feast--stopped him. “Are you planning to buy or build up our way, Mr. +McVey?” she asked. He shook his head. “I'm looking around,” he said and +hurried away. + +Anger took the place of perplexity in him. The women he saw in the +streets and in the doors of the houses were such women as his own woman +Clara. They had married men--“no better than myself,” he told himself, +growing bold. + +They had married men and something had happened to them. Something was +settled. They could live in streets and in houses. Their marriages had +been real marriages and he had a right to a real marriage. It was not +too much to expect out of life. + +“Clara has a right to that also,” he thought and his mind began to +idealize the marriages of men and women. “On every hand here I see them, +the neat, well-dressed, handsome women like Clara. How happy they are! + +“Their feathers have been ruffled though,” he thought angrily. “It was +with them as with that bird I saw being pursued through the trees. There +has been pursuit and a pretense of trying to escape. There has been +an effort made that was not an effort, but feathers have been ruffled +here.” + +When his thoughts had driven him into a half desperate mood Hugh went +out of the streets of bright, ugly, freshly built, freshly painted and +furnished houses, and down into the town. Several men homeward bound at +the end of their day of work called to him. “I hope you are thinking of +buying or building up our way,” they said heartily. + + * * * * * + +It began to rain and darkness came, but Hugh did not go home to Clara. +It did not seem to him that he could spend another night in the +house with her, lying awake, hearing the little noises of the night, +waiting--for courage. He could not sit under the lamp through another +evening pretending to read. He could not go with Clara up the stairs +only to leave her with a cold “good-night” at the top of the stairs. + +Hugh went up the Medina Road almost to the house and then retraced his +steps and got into a field. There was a low swampy place in which the +water came up over his shoetops, and after he had crossed that there was +a field overgrown with a tangle of vines. The night became so dark that +he could see nothing and darkness reigned over his spirit. For hours he +walked blindly, but it did not occur to him that as he waited, hating +the waiting, Clara also waited; that for her also it was a time of trial +and uncertainty. To him it seemed her course was simple and easy. She +was a white pure thing--waiting--for what? for courage to come in to him +in order that an assault be made upon her whiteness and purity. + +That was the only answer to the question Hugh could find within himself. +The destruction of what was white and pure was a necessary thing in +life. It was a thing men must do in order that life go on. As for women, +they must be white and pure--and wait. + + * * * * * + +Filled with inward resentment Hugh at last did go to the farmhouse. Wet +and with dragging, heavy feet he turned out of the Medina Road to find +the house dark and apparently deserted. + +Then a new and puzzling situation arose. When he stepped over the +threshold and into the house he knew Clara was there. + +On that day she had not driven him to work in the morning or gone for +him at noon hour because she did not want to look at him in the light of +day, did not want again to see the puzzled, frightened look in his eyes. +She had wanted him in the darkness alone, had waited for darkness. Now +it was dark in the house and she waited for him. + +How simple it was! Hugh came into the living-room, stumbled forward into +the darkness, and found the hat-rack against the wall near the stairway +leading to the bedrooms above. Again he had surrendered what he would no +doubt have called the manhood in himself, and hoped only to be able to +escape the presence he felt in the room, to creep off upstairs to his +bed, to lie awake listening to noises, waiting miserably for another day +to come. But when he had put his dripping hat on one of the pegs of the +rack and had found the lower step with his foot thrust into darkness, a +voice called to him. + +“Come here, Hugh,” Clara said softly and firmly, and like a boy caught +doing a forbidden act he went toward her. “We have been very silly, +Hugh,” he heard her voice saying softly. + + * * * * * + +Hugh went to where Clara sat in a chair by a window. From him there was +no protest and no attempt to escape the love-making that followed. For +a moment he stood in silence and could see her white figure below him in +the chair. It was like something still far away, but coming swiftly as a +bird flies to him--upward to him. Her hand crept up and lay in his hand. +It seemed unbelievably large. It was not soft, but hard and firm. When +her hand had rested in his for a moment she arose and stood beside him. +Then the hand went out of his and touched, caressed his wet coat, his +wet hair, his cheeks. “My flesh must be white and cold,” he thought, and +then he did not think any more. + +Gladness took hold of him, a gladness that came up out of the inner +parts of himself as she had come up to him out of the chair. For days, +weeks, he had been thinking of his problem as a man's problem, his +defeat had been a man's defeat. + +Now there was no defeat, no problem, no victory. In himself he did not +exist. Within himself something new had been born or another something +that had always lived with him had stirred to life. It was not awkward. +It was not afraid. It was a thing as swift and sure as the flight of +the male bird through the branches of trees and it was in pursuit of +something light and swift in her, something that would fly through light +and darkness but fly not too swiftly, something of which he need not +be afraid, something that without the need of understanding he could +understand as one understands the need of breath in a close place. + +With a laugh as soft and sure as her own Hugh took Clara into his arms. +A few minutes later they went up stairs and twice Hugh stumbled on the +stairway. It did not matter. His long awkward body was a thing outside +himself. It might stumble and fall many times but the new thing he had +found, the thing inside himself that responded to the thing inside the +shell that was Clara his wife, did not stumble. It flew like a bird out +of darkness into the light. At the moment he thought the sweeping flight +of life thus begun would run on forever. + + + + +BOOK SIX + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +It was a summer night in Ohio and the wheat in the long, flat fields +that stretched away to the north from the town of Bidwell was ripe for +the cutting. Between the wheat fields lay corn and cabbage fields. In +the corn fields the green stalks stood up like young trees. Facing the +fields lay the white roads, once the silent roads, hushed and empty +through the nights and often during many hours of the day, the night +silence broken only at long intervals by the clattering hoofs of +homeward bound horses and the silence of days by creaking wagons. Along +the roads on a summer evening went the young farm hand in his buggy for +which he had spent a summer's wage, a long summer of sweaty toil in +hot fields. The hoofs of his horse beat a soft tattoo on the roads. His +sweetheart sat beside him and he was in no hurry. All day he had been +at work in the harvest and on the morrow he would work again. It did +not matter. For him the night would last until the cocks in isolated +farmyards began to hail the dawn. He forgot the horse and did not care +what turning he took. All roads led to happiness for him. + +Beside the long roads was an endless procession of fields broken now and +then by a strip of woodland, where the shadows of trees fell upon the +roads and made pools of an inky blackness. In the long, dry grass in +fence corners insects sang; in the young cabbage fields rabbits ran, +flitting away like shadows in the moonlight. The cabbage fields were +beautiful too. + +Who has written or sung of the beauties of corn fields in Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, or of the vast Ohio cabbage fields? In the cabbage fields +the broad outer leaves fall down to make a background for the shifting, +delicate colors of soils. The leaves are themselves riotous with color. +As the season advances they change from light to dark greens, a thousand +shades of purples, blues and reds appear and disappear. + +In silence the cabbage fields slept beside the roads in Ohio. Not +yet had the motor cars come to tear along the roads, their flashing +lights--beautiful too, when seen by one afoot on the roads on a summer +night--had not yet made the roads an extension of the cities. Akron, the +terrible town, had not yet begun to roll forth its countless millions of +rubber hoops, filled each with its portion of God's air compressed +and in prison at last like the farm hands who have gone to the cities. +Detroit and Toledo had not begun to send forth their hundreds of +thousands of motor cars to shriek and scream the nights away on country +roads. Willis was still a mechanic in an Indiana town, and Ford still +worked in a bicycle repair shop in Detroit. + +It was a summer night in the Ohio country and the moon shone. A country +doctor's horse went at a humdrum pace along the roads. Softly and at +long intervals men afoot stumbled along. A farm hand whose horse was +lame walked toward town. An umbrella mender, benighted on the roads, +hurried toward the lights of the distant town. In Bidwell, the place +that had been on other summer nights a sleepy town filled with gossiping +berry pickers, things were astir. + +Change, and the thing men call growth, was in the air. Perhaps in its +own way revolution was in the air, the silent, the real revolution that +grew with the growth of the towns. In the stirring, bustling town of +Bidwell that quiet summer night something happened that startled men. +Something happened, and then in a few minutes it happened again. Heads +wagged, special editions of daily newspapers were printed, the great +hive of men was disturbed, under the invisible roof of the town that had +so suddenly become a city, the seeds of self-consciousness were planted +in new soil, in American soil. + +Before all this began, however, something else happened. The first motor +car ran through the streets of Bidwell and out upon the moonlit roads. +The motor car was driven by Tom Butterworth and in it sat his daughter +Clara with her husband Hugh McVey. During the week before, Tom had +brought the car from Cleveland, and the mechanic who rode with him had +taught him the art of driving. Now he drove alone and boldly. Early in +the evening he had run out to the farmhouse to take his daughter and +son-in-law for their first ride. Hugh sat in the seat beside him and +after they had started and were clear of the town, Tom turned to him. +“Now watch me step on her tail,” he said proudly, using for the first +time the motor slang he had picked up from the Cleveland mechanic. + +As Tom sent the car hurling over the roads, Clara sat alone in the back +seat unimpressed by her father's new acquisition. For three years she +had been married and she felt that she did not yet know the man she had +married. Always the story had been the same, moments of light and then +darkness again. A new machine that went along roads at a startlingly +increased rate of speed might change the whole face of the world, as +her father declared it would, but it did not change certain facts of her +life. “Am I a failure as a wife, or is Hugh impossible as a husband?” + she asked herself for perhaps the thousandth time as the car, having +got into a long stretch of clear, straight road, seemed to leap and sail +through the air like a bird. “At any rate I have married me a husband +and yet I have no husband, I have been in a man's arms but I have +no lover, I have taken hold of life, but life has slipped through my +fingers.” + +Like her father, Hugh seemed to Clara absorbed in only the things +outside himself, the outer crust of life. He was like and yet unlike +her father. She was baffled by him. There was something in the man she +wanted and could not find. “The fault must be in me,” she told herself. +“He's all right, but what's the matter with me?” + +After that night when he ran away from her bridal bed, Clara had more +than once thought the miracle had happened. It did sometimes. On that +night when he came to her out of the rain it had happened. There was a +wall a blow could shatter, and she raised her hand to strike the blow. +The wall was shattered and then builded itself again. Even as she lay at +night in her husband's arms the wall reared itself up in the darkness of +the sleeping room. + +Over the farmhouse on such nights dense silence brooded and she and +Hugh, as had become their habit together, were silent. In the darkness +she put up her hand to touch her husband's face and hair. He lay still +and she had the impression of some great force holding him back, holding +her back. A sharp sense of struggle filled the room. The air was heavy +with it. + +When words came they did not break the silence. The wall remained. + +The words that came were empty, meaningless words. Hugh suddenly broke +forth into speech. He spoke of his work at the shop and of his progress +toward the solution of some difficult, mechanical problem. If it were +evening when the thing happened the two people got out of the lighted +house where they had been sitting together, each feeling darkness would +help the effort they were both making to tear away the wall. They walked +along a lane, past the barns and over the little wooden bridge across +the stream that ran down through the barnyard. Hugh did not want to talk +of the work at the shop, but could find words for no other talk. They +came to a fence where the lane turned and from where they could look +down the hillside and into the town. He did not look at Clara but +stared down the hillside and the words, in regard to the mechanical +difficulties that had occupied his mind all day, ran on and on. When +later they went back to the house he felt a little relieved. “I've said +words. There is something achieved,” he thought. + + * * * * * + +And now after the three years as a married woman Clara sat in the motor +with her father and husband and with them was sent whirling swiftly +through the summer night. The car ran down the hill road from the +Butterworth farm, through a dozen residence streets in town and then out +upon the long, straight roads in the rich, flat country to the north. It +had skirted the town as a hungry wolf might have encircled silently and +swiftly the fire-lit camp of a hunter. To Clara the machine seemed like +a wolf, bold and cunning and yet afraid. Its great nose pushed through +the troubled air of the quiet roads, frightening horses, breaking the +silence with its persistent purring, drowning the song of insects. The +headlights also disturbed the slumbers of the night. They flashed into +barnyards where fowls slept on the lower branches of trees, played +on the sides of barns sent the cattle in fields galloping away into +darkness, and frightened horribly the wild things, the red squirrels and +chipmunks that live in wayside fences in the Ohio country. Clara hated +the machine and began to hate all machines. Thinking of machinery and +the making of machines had, she decided, been at the bottom of +her husband's inability to talk with her. Revolt against the whole +mechanical impulse of her generation began to take possession of her. + +And as she rode another and more terrible kind of revolt against the +machine began in the town of Bidwell. It began in fact before Tom with +his new motor left the Butterworth farm, it began before the summer +moon came up, before the gray mantle of night had been laid over the +shoulders of the hills south of the farmhouse. + +Jim Gibson, the journeyman harness maker who worked in Joe Wainsworth's +shop, was beside himself on that night. He had just won a great victory +over his employer and felt like celebrating. For several days he had +been telling the story of his anticipated victory in the saloons and +store, and now it had happened. After dining at his boarding-house he +went to a saloon and had a drink. Then he went to other saloons and had +other drinks, after which he swaggered through the streets to the door +of the shop. Although he was in his nature a spiritual bully, Jim did +not lack energy, and his employer's shop was filled with work demanding +attention. For a week both he and Joe had been returning to their work +benches every evening. Jim wanted to come because some driving influence +within made him love the thought of keeping the work always on the move, +and Joe because Jim made him come. + +Many things were on the move in the striving, hustling town on that +evening. The system of checking on piece work, introduced by the +superintendent Ed Hall in the corn-cutting machine plant, had brought +on Bidwell's first industrial strike. The discontented workmen were not +organized, and the strike was foredoomed to failure, but it had stirred +the town deeply. One day, a week before, quite suddenly some fifty +or sixty men had decided to quit. “We won't work for a fellow like Ed +Hall,” they declared. “He sets a scale of prices and then, when we have +driven ourselves to the limit to make a decent day's pay, he cuts the +scale.” Leaving the shop the men went in a body to Main Street and two +or three of them, developing unexpected eloquence, began delivering +speeches on street corners. On the next day the strike spread and for +several days the shop had been closed. Then a labor organizer came from +Cleveland and on the day of his arrival the story ran through the street +that strike breakers were to be brought in. + +And on that evening of many adventures another element was introduced +into the already disturbed life of the community. At the corner of Main +and McKinley Streets and just beyond the place where three old buildings +were being torn down to make room for the building of a new hotel, +appeared a man who climbed upon a box and attacked, not the piece work +prices at the corn-cutting machine plant, but the whole system that +built and maintained factories where the wage scale of the workmen could +be fixed by the whim or necessity of one man or a group of men. As the +man on the box talked, the workmen in the crowd who were of American +birth began to shake their heads. They went to one side and gathering in +groups discussed the stranger's words. “I tell you what,” said a little +old workman, pulling nervously at his graying mustache, “I'm on strike +and I'm for sticking out until Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth fire Ed +Hall, but I don't like this kind of talk. I'll tell you what that man's +doing. He's attacking our Government, that's what he's doing.” The +workmen went off to their homes grumbling. The Government was to them a +sacred thing, and they did not fancy having their demands for a better +wage scale confused by the talk of anarchists and socialists. Many of +the laborers of Bidwell were sons and grandsons of pioneers who had +opened up the country where the great sprawling towns were now growing +into cities. They or their fathers had fought in the great Civil War. +During boyhood they had breathed a reverence for government out of the +very air of the towns. The great men of whom the school-books talked had +all been connected with the Government. In Ohio there had been Garfield, +Sherman, McPherson the fighter and others. From Illinois had come +Lincoln and Grant. For a time the very ground of the mid-American +country had seemed to spurt forth great men as now it was spurting forth +gas and oil. Government had justified itself in the men it had produced. + +And now there had come among them men who had no reverence for +government. What a speaker for the first time dared say openly on the +streets of Bidwell, had already been talked in the shops. The new men, +the foreigners coming from many lands, had brought with them strange +doctrines. They began to make acquaintances among the American workmen. +“Well,” they said, “you've had great men here; no doubt you have; but +you're getting a new kind of great men now. These new men are not born +out of people. They're being born out of capital. What is a great man? +He's one who has the power. Isn't that a fact? Well, you fellows here +have got to find out that nowadays power comes with the possession of +money. Who are the big men of this town?--not some lawyer or politician +who can make a good speech, but the men who own the factories where you +have to work. Your Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth are the great men of +this town.” + +The socialist, who had come to speak on the streets of Bidwell, was +a Swede, and his wife had come with him. As he talked his wife made +figures on a blackboard. The old story of the trick by which the +citizens of the town had lost their money in the plant-setting machine +company was revived and told over and over. The Swede, a big man with +heavy fists, spoke of the prominent citizens of the town as thieves who +by a trick had robbed their fellows. As he stood on the box beside +his wife, and raising his fists shouted crude sentences condemning the +capitalist class, men who had gone away angry came back to listen. +The speaker declared himself a workman like themselves and, unlike the +religious salvationists who occasionally spoke on the streets, did not +beg for money. “I'm a workman like yourselves,” he shouted. “Both my +wife and myself work until we've saved a little money. Then we come out +to some town like this and fight capital until we're busted. We've been +fighting for years now and we'll keep on fighting as long as we live.” + +As the orator shouted out his sentences he raised his fist as though to +strike, and looked not unlike one of his ancestors, the Norsemen, who +in old times had sailed far and wide over unknown seas in search of the +fighting they loved. The men of Bidwell began to respect him. “After +all, what he says sounds like mighty good sense,” they declared, shaking +their heads. “Maybe Ed Hall isn't any worse than any one else. We got to +break up the system. That's a fact. Some of these days we got to break +up the system.” + + * * * * * + +Jim Gibson got to the door of Joe's shop at half-past seven o'clock. +Several men stood on the sidewalk and he stopped and stood before them, +intending to tell again the story of his triumph over his employer. +Inside the shop Joe was already at his bench and at work. The men, +two of them strikers from the corn-cutting machine plant, complained +bitterly of the difficulty of supporting their families, and a third +man, a fellow with a big black mustache who smoked a pipe, began to +repeat some of the axioms in regard to industrialism and the class war +he had picked up from the socialist orator. Jim listened for a moment +and then, turning, put his thumb on his buttocks and wriggled his +fingers. “Oh, hell,” he sneered, “what are you fools talking about? +You're going to get up a union or get into the socialist party. What're +you talking about? A union or a party can't help a man who can't look +out for himself.” + +The blustering and half intoxicated harness maker stood in the open +shop door and told again and in detail the story of his triumph over his +employer. Then another thought came and he spoke of the twelve hundred +dollars Joe had lost in the stock, of the plant-setting machine company. +“He lost his money and you fellows are going to get licked in this +fight,” he declared. “You're all wrong, you fellows, when you talk about +unions or joining the socialist party. What counts is what a man can do +for himself. Character counts. Yes, sir, character makes a man what he +is.” + +Jim pounded on his chest and glared about him. + +“Look at me,” he said. “I was a drunkard and down and out when I came +to this town; a drunkard, that's what I was and that's what I am. I came +here to this shop to work, and now, if you want to know, ask any one +in town who runs this place. The socialist says money is power. Well, +there's a man inside here who has the money, but you bet I've got the +power.” + +Slapping his knees with his hands Jim laughed heartily. A week before, a +traveling man had come to the shop to sell machine-made harness. Joe had +ordered the man out and Jim had called him back. He had placed an order +for eighteen sets of the harness and had made Joe sign the order. The +harness had arrived that afternoon and was now hung in the shop. “It's +hanging in the shop now,” Jim cried. “Go see for yourself.” + +Triumphantly Jim walked up and down before the men on the sidewalk, and +his voice rang through the shop where Joe sat on his harness-maker's +horse under a swinging lamp hard at work. “I tell you, character's the +thing that counts,” the roaring voice cried. “You see I'm a workingman +like you fellows, but I don't join a union or a socialist party. I get +my way. My boss Joe in there's a sentimental old fool, that's what he +is. All his life he's made harnesses by hand and he thinks that's the +only way. He claims he has pride in his work, that's what he claims.” + +Jim laughed again. “Do you know what he did the other day when that +traveler had gone out of the shop and after I had made him sign that +order?” he asked. “Cried, that's what he did. By God, he did,--sat there +and cried.” + +Again Jim laughed, but the workmen on the sidewalk did not join in his +merriment. Going to one of them, the one who had declared his intention +of joining the union, Jim began to berate him. “You think you can lick +Ed Hall with Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth back of him, eh?” he asked +sharply. “Well, I'll tell you what--you can't. All the unions in the +world won't help you. You'll get licked--for why? + +“For why? Because Ed Hall is like me, that's for why. He's got +character, that's what he's got.” + +Growing weary of his boasting and the silence of his audience, Jim +started to walk in at the door, but when one of the workmen, a pale man +of fifty with a graying mustache, spoke, he turned to listen. “You're a +suck, a suck and a lickspittle, that's what you are,” said the pale man, +his voice trembling with passion. + +Jim ran through the crowd of men and knocked the speaker to the sidewalk +with a blow of his fist. Two of the other workmen seemed about to take +up the cause of their fallen brother, but when in spite of their threats +Jim stood his ground, they hesitated. They went to help the pale workman +to his feet, and Jim went into the shop and closed the door. Climbing +onto his horse he went to work, and the men went off along the sidewalk, +still threatening to do what they had not done when the opportunity +offered. + +Joe worked in silence beside his employee and night began to settle down +over the disturbed town. Above the clatter of many voices in the street +outside could be heard the loud voice of the socialist orator who had +taken up his stand for the evening at a nearby corner. When it had +become quite dark outside, the old harness maker climbed down from his +horse and going to the front door opened it softly and looked up and +down the street. Then he closed it again and walked toward the rear of +the shop. In his hand he held his harness-maker's knife, shaped like a +half moon and with an extraordinarily sharp circular edge. The harness +maker's wife had died during the year before and since that time he had +not slept well at night. Often for a week at a time he did not sleep +at all, but lay all night with wide-open eyes, thinking strange, new +thoughts. In the daytime and when Jim was not about, he sometimes spent +hours sharpening the moon-shaped knife on a piece of leather; and on the +day after the incident of the placing of the order for the factory-made +harness he had gone into a hardware store and bought a cheap revolver. +He had been sharpening the knife as Jim talked to the workmen outside. +When Jim began to tell the story of his humiliation he had stopped +sewing at the broken harness in his vise and, getting up, had taken the +knife from its hiding-place under a pile of leather on a bench to give +its edge a few last caressing strokes. + +Holding the knife in his hand Joe went with shambling steps toward the +place where Jim sat absorbed in his work. A brooding silence seemed to +lie over the shop and even outside in the street all noises suddenly +ceased. Old Joe's gait changed. As he passed behind the horse on which +Jim sat, life came into his figure and he walked with a soft, cat-like +tread. Joy shone in his eyes. As though warned of something impending, +Jim turned and opened his mouth to growl at his employer, but his words +never found their way to his lips. The old man made a peculiar half +step, half leap past the horse, and the knife whipped through the air. +At one stroke he had succeeded in practically severing Jim Gibson's head +from his body. + +There was no sound in the shop. Joe threw the knife into a corner and +ran quickly past the horse where the body of Jim Gibson sat upright. +Then the body fell to the floor with a thump and there was the sharp +rattle of heels on the board floor. The old man locked the front door +and listened impatiently. When all was again quiet he went to search for +the knife he had thrown away, but could not find it. Taking Jim's +knife from a bench under the hanging lamp, he stepped over the body and +climbed upon his horse to turn out the lights. + +For an hour Joe stayed in the shop with the dead man. The eighteen +sets of harness shipped from a Cleveland factory had been received that +morning, and Jim had insisted they be unpacked and hung on hooks along +the shop walls. He had bullied Joe into helping hang the harnesses, and +now Joe took them down alone. One by one they were laid on the floor and +with Jim's knife the old man cut each strap into little pieces that made +a pile of litter on the floor reaching to his waist. When that was done +he went again to the rear of the shop, again stepping almost carelessly +over the dead man, and took the revolver out of the pocket of an +overcoat that hung by the door. + +Joe went out of the shop by the back door, and having locked it +carefully, crept through an alleyway and into the lighted street where +people walked up and down. The next place to his own was a barber shop, +and as he hurried along the sidewalk, two young men came out and called +to him. “Hey,” they called, “do you believe in factory-made harness +now-days, Joe Wainsworth? Hey, what do you say? Do you sell factory-made +harness?” + +Joe did not answer, but stepping off the sidewalk, walked in the road. +A group of Italian laborers passed, talking rapidly and making gestures +with their hands. As he went more deeply into the heart of the growing +city, past the socialist orator and a labor organizer who was addressing +a crowd of men on another corner, his step became cat-like as it had +been in the moment before the knife flashed at the throat of Jim Gibson. +The crowds of people frightened him. He imagined himself set upon by +a crowd and hanged to a lamp-post. The voice of the labor orator arose +above the murmur of voices in the street. “We've got to take power into +our hands. We've got to carry on our own battle for power,” the voice +declared. + +The harness maker turned a corner into a quiet street, his hand +caressing affectionately the revolver in the side pocket of his coat. +He intended to kill himself, but had not wanted to die in the same room +with Jim Gibson. In his own way he had always been a very sensitive +man and his only fear was that rough hands fall upon him before he had +completed the evening's work. He was quite sure that had his wife +been alive she would have understood what had happened. She had always +understood everything he did or said. He remembered his courtship. His +wife had been a country girl and on Sundays, after their marriage, they +had gone together to spend the day in the wood. After Joe had brought +his wife to Bidwell they continued the practice. One of his customers, a +well-to-do farmer, lived five miles north of town, and on his farm there +was a grove of beech trees. Almost every Sunday for several years he got +a horse from the livery stable and took his wife there. After dinner at +the farmhouse, he and the farmer gossiped for an hour, while the women +washed the dishes, and then he took his wife and went into the beech +forest. No underbrush grew under the spreading branches of the trees, +and when the two people had remained silent for a time, hundreds of +squirrels and chipmunks came to chatter and play about them. Joe had +brought nuts in his pocket and threw them about. The quivering little +animals drew near and then with a flip of their tails scampered away. +One day a boy from a neighboring farm came to the wood and shot one +of the squirrels. It happened just as Joe and his wife came from the +farmhouse and he saw the wounded squirrel hang from the branch of a +tree, and then fall. It lay at his feet and his wife grew ill and leaned +against him for support. He said nothing, but stared at the quivering +thing on the ground. When it lay still the boy came and picked it up. +Still Joe said nothing. Taking his wife's arm he walked to where they +were in the habit of sitting, and reached in his pocket for the nuts to +scatter on the ground. The farm boy, who had felt the reproach in the +eyes of the man and woman, had gone out of the wood. Suddenly Joe +began to cry. He was ashamed and did not want his wife to see, and she +pretended she had not seen. + +On the night when he had killed Jim, Joe decided he would walk to the +farm and the beech forest and there kill himself. He hurried past a long +row of dark stores and warehouses in the newly built section of town and +came to a residence street. He saw a man coming toward him and stepped +into the stairway of a store building. The man stopped under a street +lamp to light a cigar, and the harness maker recognized him. It was +Steve Hunter, who had induced him to invest the twelve hundred dollars +in the stock of the plant-setting machine company, the man who had +brought the new times to Bidwell, the man who was at the bottom of all +such innovations as machine-made harnesses. Joe had killed his employee, +Jim Gibson, in cold anger, but now a new kind of anger took possession +of him. Something danced before his eyes and his hands trembled so that +he was afraid the gun he had taken out of his pocket would fall to the +sidewalk. It wavered as he raised it and fired, but chance came to his +assistance. Steve Hunter pitched forward to the sidewalk. + +Without stopping to pick up the revolver that had fallen out of his +hand, Joe now ran up a stairway and got into a dark, empty hall. He felt +his way along a wall and came presently to another stairway, leading +down. It brought him into an alleyway, and going along this he came out +near the bridge that led over the river and into what in the old days +had been Turner's Pike, the road out which he had driven with his wife +to the farm and the beech forest. + +But one thing now puzzled Joe Wainsworth. He had lost his revolver and +did not know how he was to manage his own death. “I must do it some +way,” he thought, when at last, after nearly three hours steady plodding +and hiding in fields to avoid the teams going along the road he got to +the beech forest. He went to sit under a tree near the place where he +had so often sat through quiet Sunday afternoons with his wife beside +him. “I'll rest a little and then I'll think how I can do it,” he +thought wearily, holding his head in his hands. “I mustn't go to sleep. +If they find me they'll hurt me. They'll hurt me before I have a chance +to kill myself. They'll hurt me before I have a chance to kill myself,” + he repeated, over and over, holding his head in his hands and rocking +gently back and forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The car driven by Tom Butterworth stopped at a town, and Tom got out to +fill his pockets with cigars and incidentally to enjoy the wonder and +admiration of the citizens. He was in an exalted mood and words flowed +from him. As the motor under its hood purred, so the brain under the +graying old head purred and threw forth words. He talked to the idlers +before the drug stores in the towns and, when the car started again and +they were out in the open country, his voice, pitched in a high key to +make itself heard above the purring engine, became shrill. Having struck +the shrill tone of the new age the voice went on and on. + +But the voice and the swift-moving car did not stir Clara. She tried +not to hear the voice, and fixing her eyes on the soft landscape flowing +past under the moon, tried to think of other times and places. She +thought of nights when she had walked with Kate Chanceller through the +streets of Columbus, and of the silent ride she had taken with Hugh that +night they were married. Her mind went back into her childhood and she +remembered the long days she had spent riding with her father in this +same valley, going from farm to farm to haggle and dicker for the +purchase of calves and pigs. Her father had not talked then but +sometimes, when they had driven far and were homeward bound in the +failing light of evening, words did come to him. She remembered one +evening in the summer after her mother died and when her father often +took her with him on his drives. They had stopped for the evening meal +at the house of a farmer and when they got on the road again, the moon +came out. Something present in the spirit of the night stirred Tom, and +he spoke of his life as a boy in the new country and of his fathers and +brothers. “We worked hard, Clara,” he said. “The whole country was new +and every acre we planted had to be cleared.” The mind of the prosperous +farmer fell into a reminiscent mood and he spoke of little things +concerning his life as a boy and young man; the days of cutting wood +alone in the silent, white forest when winter came and it was time for +getting out firewood and logs for new farm buildings, the log rollings +to which neighboring farmers came, when great piles of logs were made +and set afire that space might be cleared for planting. In the winter +the boy went to school in the village of Bidwell and as he was even then +an energetic, pushing youth, already intent on getting on in the world, +he set traps in the forest and on the banks of streams and walked the +trap line on his way to and from school. In the spring he sent his pelts +to the growing town of Cleveland where they were sold. He spoke of the +money he got and of how he had finally saved enough to buy a horse of +his own. + +Tom had talked of many other things on that night, of the spelling-downs +at the schoolhouse in town, of huskings and dances held in the barns and +of the evening when he went skating on the river and first met his wife. +“We took to each other at once,” he said softly. “There was a fire built +on the bank of the river and after I had skated with her we went and sat +down to warm ourselves. + +“We wanted to get married to each other right away,” he told Clara. “I +walked home with her after we got tired of skating, and after that I +thought of nothing but how to get my own farm and have a home of my +own.” + +As the daughter sat in the motor listening to the shrill voice of the +father, who now talked only of the making of machines and money, that +other man talking softly in the moonlight as the horse jogged slowly +along the dark road seemed very far away. All such men seemed very far +away. “Everything worth while is very far away,” she thought bitterly. +“The machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far +from the old sweet things.” + +The motor flew along the roads and Tom thought of his old longing to +own and drive fast racing horses. “I used to be half crazy to own fast +horses,” he shouted to his son-in-law. “I didn't do it, because owning +fast horses meant a waste of money, but it was in my mind all the time. +I wanted to go fast: faster than any one else.” In a kind of ecstasy he +gave the motor more gas and shot the speed up to fifty miles an hour. +The hot, summer air, fanned into a violent wind, whistled past his head. +“Where would the damned race horses be now,” he called, “where would +your Maud S. or your J.I.C. be, trying to catch up with me in this car?” + +Yellow wheat fields and fields of young corn, tall now and in the light +breeze that was blowing whispering in the moonlight, flashed past, +looking like squares on a checker board made for the amusement of +the child of some giant. The car ran through miles of the low farming +country, through the main streets of towns, where the people ran out of +the stores to stand on the sidewalks and look at the new wonder, through +sleeping bits of woodlands--remnants of the great forests in which +Tom had worked as a boy--and across wooden bridges over small streams, +beside which grew tangled masses of elderberries, now yellow and +fragrant with blossoms. + +At eleven o'clock having already achieved some ninety miles Tom turned +the car back. Running more sedately he again talked of the mechanical +triumphs of the age in which he had lived. “I've brought you whizzing +along, you and Clara,” he said proudly. “I tell you what, Hugh, Steve +Hunter and I have brought you along fast in more ways that one. You've +got to give Steve credit for seeing something in you, and you've got to +give me credit for putting my money back of your brains. I don't want to +take no credit from Steve. There's credit enough for all. All I got +to say for myself is that I saw the hole in the doughnut. Yes, sir, I +wasn't so blind. I saw the hole in the doughnut.” + +Tom stopped to light a cigar and then drove on again. “I'll tell you +what, Hugh,” he said, “I wouldn't say so to any one not of my family, +but the truth is, I'm the man that's been putting over the big things +there in Bidwell. The town is going to be a city now and a mighty big +city. Towns in this State like Columbus, Toledo and Dayton, had better +look out for themselves. I'm the man has always kept Steve Hunter steady +and going straight ahead down the track, as this car goes with my hand +at the steering wheel. + +“You don't know anything about it, and I don't want you should talk, +but there are new things coming to Bidwell,” he added. “When I was in +Chicago last month I met a man who has been making rubber buggy and +bicycle tires. I'm going in with him and we're going to start a plant +for making automobile-tires right in Bidwell. The tire business is bound +to be one of the greatest on earth and they ain't no reason why Bidwell +shouldn't be the biggest tire center ever known in the world.” Although +the car now ran quietly, Tom's voice again became shrill. “There'll +be hundreds of thousands of cars like this tearing over every road in +America,” he declared. “Yes, sir, they will; and if I calculate right +Bidwell'll be the great tire town of the world.” + +For a long time Tom drove in silence, and when he again began to talk it +was a new mood. He told a tale of life in Bidwell that stirred both Hugh +and Clara deeply. He was angry and had Clara not been in the car would +have become violently profane. + +“I'd like to hang the men who are making trouble in the shops in town,” + he broke forth. “You know who I mean, I mean the labor men who are +trying to make trouble for Steve Hunter and me. There's a socialist +talking every night on the street over there. I'll tell you, Hugh, the +laws of this country are wrong.” For ten minutes he talked of the labor +difficulties in the shops. + +“They better look out,” he declared, and was so angry that his voice +rose to something like a suppressed scream. “We're inventing new +machines pretty fast now-days,” he cried. “Pretty soon we'll do all the +work by machines. Then what'll we do? We'll kick all the workers out and +let 'em strike till they're sick, that's what we'll do. They can talk +their fool socialism all they want, but we'll show 'em, the fools.” + +His angry mood passed, and as the car turned into the last fifteen-mile +stretch of road that led to Bidwell, he told the tale that so deeply +stirred his passengers. Chuckling softly he told of the struggle of +the Bidwell harness maker, Joe Wainsworth, to prevent the sale of +machine-made harness in the community, and of his experience with his +employee, Jim Gibson. Tom had heard the tale in the bar-room of the +Bidwell House and it had made a profound impression on his mind. “I'll +tell you what,” he declared, “I'm going to get in touch with Jim +Gibson. That's the kind of man to handle workers. I only heard about him +to-night, but I'm going to see him to-morrow.” + +Leaning back in his seat Tom laughed heartily as he told of the +traveling man who had visited Joe Wainsworth's shop and the placing of +the order for the factory-made harness. In some intangible way he felt +that when Jim Gibson laid the order for the harness on the bench in the +shop and by the force of his personality compelled Joe Wainsworth to +sign, he justified all such men as himself. In imagination he lived in +that moment with Jim, and like Jim the incident aroused his inclination +to boast. “Why, a lot of cheap laboring skates can't down such men as +myself any more than Joe Wainsworth could down that Jim Gibson,” he +declared. “They ain't got the character, you see, that's what the +matter, they ain't got the character.” Tom touched some mechanism +connected with the engine of the car and it shot suddenly forward. +“Suppose one of them labor leaders were standing in the road there,” he +cried. Instinctively Hugh leaned forward and peered into the darkness +through which the lights of the car cut like a great scythe, and on the +back seat Clara half rose to her feet. Tom shouted with delight and +as the car plunged along the road his voice rose in triumph. “The damn +fools!” he cried. “They think they can stop the machines. Let 'em try. +They want to go on in their old hand-made way. Let 'em look out. Let 'em +look out for such men as Jim Gibson and me.” + +Down a slight incline in the road shot the car and swept around a wide +curve, and then the jumping, dancing light, running far ahead, revealed +a sight that made Tom thrust out his foot and jam on the brakes. + +In the road and in the very center of the circle of light, as though +performing a scene on the stage, three men were struggling. As the car +came to a stop, so sudden that it pitched both Clara and Hugh out of +their seats, the struggle came to an end. One of the struggling figures, +a small man without coat or hat, had jerked himself away from the +others and started to run toward the fence at the side of the road +and separating it from a grove of trees. A large, broad-shouldered man +sprang forward and catching the tail of the fleeing man's coat pulled +him back into the circle of light. His fist shot out and caught the +small man directly on the mouth. He fell like a dead thing, face +downward in the dust of the road. + +Tom ran the car slowly forward and its headlight continued to play over +the three figures. From a little pocket at the side of his driver's seat +he took a revolver. He ran the car quickly to a position near the group +in the road and stopped. + +“What's up?” he asked sharply. + +Ed Hall the factory superintendent, the man who had struck the blow +that had felled the little man, stepped forward and explained the +tragic happenings of the evening in town. The factory superintendent had +remembered that as a boy he had once worked for a few weeks on the +farm of which the wood beside the road was a part, and that on Sunday +afternoons the harness maker had come to the farm with his wife and the +two people had gone to walk in the very place where he had just been +found. “I had a hunch he would be out here,” he boasted. “I figured it +out. Crowds started out of town in all directions, but I cut out alone. +Then I happened to see this fellow and just for company I brought him +along.” He put up his hand and, looking at Tom, tapped his forehead. +“Cracked,” he declared, “he always was. A fellow I knew saw him once in +that woods,” he said pointing. “Somebody had shot a squirrel and he took +on about it as though he had lost a child. I said then he was crazy, and +he has sure proved I was right.” + +At a word from her father Clara went to sit on the front seat on Hugh's +knees. Her body trembled and she was cold with fear. As her father +had told the story of Jim Gibson's triumph over Joe Wainsworth she had +wanted passionately to kill that blustering fellow. Now the thing was +done. In her mind the harness maker had come to stand for all the men +and women in the world who were in secret revolt against the absorption +of the age in machines and the products of machines. He had stood as +a protesting figure against what her father had become and what she +thought her husband had become. She had wanted Jim Gibson killed and it +had been done. As a child she had gone often to Wainsworth's shop with +her father or some farm hand, and she now remembered sharply the peace +and quiet of the place. At the thought of the same place, now become +the scene of a desperate killing, her body shook so that she clutched at +Hugh's arms, striving to steady herself. + +Ed Hall took the senseless figure of the old man in the road into his +arms and half threw it into the back seat of the car. To Clara it was as +though his rough, misunderstanding hands were on her own body. The +car started swiftly along the road and Ed told again the story of the +night's happenings. “I tell you, Mr. Hunter is in mighty bad shape, he +may die,” he said. Clara turned to look at her husband and thought him +totally unaffected by what had happened. His face was quiet like her +father's face. The factory superintendent's voice went on explaining his +part in the adventures of the evening. Ignoring the pale workman who sat +lost in the shadows in a corner of the rear seat, he spoke as though +he had undertaken and accomplished the capture of the murderer +single-handed. As he afterwards explained to his wife, Ed felt he had +been a fool not to come alone. “I knew I could handle him all right,” he +explained. “I wasn't afraid, but I had figured it all out he was crazy. +That made me feel shaky. When they were getting up a crowd to go out on +the hunt, I says to myself, I'll go alone. I says to myself, I'll bet +he's gone out to that woods on the Riggly farm where he and his wife +used to go on Sundays. I started and then I saw this other man standing +on a corner and I made him come with me. He didn't want to come and +I wish I'd gone alone. I could have handled him and I'd got all the +credit.” + +In the car Ed told the story of the night in the streets of Bidwell. +Some one had seen Steve Hunter shot down in the street and had declared +the harness maker had done it and had then run away. A crowd had gone to +the harness shop and had found the body of Jim Gibson. On the floor of +the shop were the factory-made harnesses cut into bits. “He must have +been in there and at work for an hour or two, stayed right in there with +the man he had killed. It's the craziest thing any man ever done.” + +The harness maker, lying on the floor of the car where Ed had thrown +him, stirred and sat up. Clara turned to look at him and shivered. His +shirt was torn so that the thin, old neck and shoulders could be plainly +seen in the uncertain light, and his face was covered with blood that +had dried and was now black with dust. Ed Hall went on with the tale of +his triumph. “I found him where I said to myself I would. Yes, sir, I +found him where I said to myself I would.” + +The car came to the first of the houses of the town, long rows of +cheaply built frame houses standing in what had once been Ezra French's +cabbage patch, where Hugh had crawled on the ground in the moonlight, +working out the mechanical problems that confronted him in the building +of his plant-setting machine. Suddenly the distraught and frightened +man crouched on the floor of the car, raised himself on his hands and +lurched forward, trying to spring over the side. Ed Hall caught him by +the arm and jerked him back. He drew back his arm to strike again but +Clara's voice, cold and intense with passion, stopped him. “If you touch +him, I'll kill you,” she said. “No matter what he does, don't you dare +strike him again.” + +Tom drove the car slowly through the streets of Bidwell to the door of a +police station. Word of the return of the murderer had run ahead, and +a crowd had gathered. Although it was past two o'clock the lights still +burned in stores and saloons, and crowds stood at every corner. With the +aid of a policeman, Ed Hall, with one eye fixed cautiously on the front +seat where Clara sat, started to lead Joe Wainsworth away. “Come on now, +we won't hurt you,” he said reassuringly, and had got his man free of +the car when he broke away. Springing back into the rear seat the crazed +man turned to look at the crowd. A sob broke from his lips. For a moment +he stood trembling with fright, and then turning, he for the first time +saw Hugh, the man in whose footsteps he had once crept in the darkness +in Turner's Pike, the man who had invented the machine by which the +earnings of a lifetime had been swept away. “It wasn't me. You did it. +You killed Jim Gibson,” he screamed, and springing forward sank his +fingers and teeth into Hugh's neck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +One day in the month of October, four years after the time of his first +motor ride with Clara and Tom, Hugh went on a business trip to the city +of Pittsburgh. He left Bidwell in the morning and got to the steel city +at noon. At three o'clock his business was finished and he was ready to +return. + +Although he had not yet realized it, Hugh's career as a successful +inventor had received a sharp check. The trick of driving directly at +the point, of becoming utterly absorbed in the thing before him, had +been lost. He went to Pittsburgh to see about the casting of new parts +for the hay-loading machine, but what he did in Pittsburgh was of +no importance to the men who would manufacture and sell that worthy, +labor-saving tool. Although he did not know it, a young man from +Cleveland, in the employ of Tom and Steve, had already done what Hugh +was striving half-heartedly to do. The machine had been finished and +ready to market in October three years before, and after repeated tests +a lawyer had made formal application for patent. Then it was discovered +that an Iowa man had already made application for and been granted a +patent on a similar apparatus. + +When Tom came to the shop and told him what had happened Hugh had been +ready to drop the whole matter, but that was not Tom's notion. “The +devil!” he said. “Do you think we're going to waste all this money and +labor?” + +Drawings of the Iowa man's machine were secured, and Tom set Hugh at the +task of doing what he called “getting round” the other fellow's patents. +“Do the best you can and we'll go ahead,” he said. “You see we've got +the money and that means power. Make what changes you can and then we'll +go on with our manufacturing plans. We'll whipsaw this other fellow +through the courts. We'll fight him till he's sick of fight and then +we'll buy him out cheap. I've had the fellow looked up and he hasn't any +money and is a boozer besides. You go ahead. We'll get that fellow all +right.” + +Hugh had tried valiantly to go along the road marked out for him by his +father-in-law and had put aside other plans to rebuild the machine +he had thought of as completed and out of the way. He made new parts, +changed other parts, studied the drawings of the Iowa man's machine, did +what he could to accomplish his task. + +Nothing happened. A conscientious determination not to infringe on the +work of the Iowa man stood in his way. + +Then something did happen. At night as he sat alone in his shop after a +long study of the drawings of the other man's machine, he put them aside +and sat staring into the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by his +lamp. He forgot the machine and thought of the unknown inventor, the man +far away over forests, lakes and rivers, who for months had worked on +the same problem that had occupied his mind. Tom had said the man had +no money and was a boozer. He could be defeated, bought cheap. He was +himself at work on the instrument of the man's defeat. + +Hugh left his shop and went for a walk, and the problem connected with +the twisting of the iron and steel parts of the hay-loading apparatus +into new forms was again left unsolved. The Iowa man had become a +distinct, almost understandable personality to Hugh. Tom had said he +drank, got drunk. His own father had been a drunkard. Once a man, the +very man who had been the instrument of his own coming to Bidwell, had +taken it for granted he was a drunkard. He wondered if some twist of +life might not have made him one. + +Thinking of the Iowa man, Hugh began to think of other men. He thought +of his father and of himself. When he was striving to come out of the +filth, the flies, the poverty, the fishy smells, the shadowy dreams of +his life by the river, his father had often tried to draw him back into +that life. In imagination he saw before him the dissolute man who had +bred him. On afternoons of summer days in the river town, when Henry +Shepard was not about, his father sometimes came to the station where he +was employed. He had begun to earn a little money and his father wanted +it to buy drinks. Why? + +There was a problem for Hugh's mind, a problem that could not be solved +in wood and steel. He walked and thought about it when he should have +been making new parts for the hay-loading apparatus. He had lived but +little in the life of the imagination, had been afraid to live that +life, had been warned and re-warned against living it. The shadowy +figure of the unknown inventor in the state of Iowa, who had been +brother to himself, who had worked on the same problems and had come +to the same conclusions, slipped away, followed by the almost equally +shadowy figure of his father. Hugh tried to think of himself and his own +life. + +For a time that seemed a simple and easy way out of the new and +intricate task he had set for his mind. His own life was a matter of +history. He knew about himself. Having walked far out of town, he turned +and went back toward his shop. His way led through the new city that +had grown up since his coming to Bidwell. Turner's Pike that had been +a country road along which on summer evenings lovers strolled to the +Wheeling station and Pickleville was now a street. All that section of +the new city was given over to workers' homes and here and there a store +had been built. The Widow McCoy's place was gone and in its place was a +warehouse, black and silent under the night sky. How grim the street +in the late night! The berry pickers who once went along the road at +evening were now gone forever. Like Ezra French's sons they had perhaps +become factory hands. Apple and cherry trees once grew along the road. +They had dropped their blossoms on the heads of strolling lovers. They +also were gone. Hugh had once crept along the road at the heels of Ed +Hall, who walked with his arm about a girl's waist. He had heard Ed +complaining of his lot in life and crying out for new times. It was Ed +Hall who had introduced the piecework plan in the factories of Bidwell +and brought about the strike, during which three men had been killed and +ill-feeling engendered in hundreds of silent workers. That strike had +been won by Tom and Steve and they had since that time been victorious +in a larger and more serious strike. Ed Hall was now at the head of a +new factory being built along the Wheeling tracks. He was growing fat +and was prosperous. + +When Hugh got to his shop he lighted his lamp and again got out the +drawings he had come from home to study. They lay unnoticed on the desk. +He looked at his watch. It was two o'clock. “Clara may be awake. I must +go home,” he thought vaguely. He now owned his own motor car and it +stood in the road before the shop. Getting in he drove away into the +darkness over the bridge, out of Turner's Pike and along a street lined +with factories and railroad sidings. Some of the factories were working +and were ablaze with lights. Through lighted windows he could see men +stationed along benches and bending over huge, iron machines. He had +come from home that evening to study the work of an unknown man from the +far away state of Iowa, to try to circumvent that man. Then he had gone +to walk and to think of himself and his own life. “The evening has been +wasted. I have done nothing,” he thought gloomily as his car climbed up +a long street lined with the homes of the wealthier citizens of his town +and turned into the short stretch of Medina Road still left between the +town and the Butterworth farmhouse. + + * * * * * + +On the day when he went to Pittsburgh, Hugh got to the station where +he was to take the homeward train at three, and the train did not leave +until four. He went into a big waiting-room and sat on a bench in a +corner. After a time he arose and going to a stand bought a newspaper, +but did not read it. It lay unopened on the bench beside him. The +station was filled with men, women, and children who moved restlessly +about. A train came in and a swarm of people departed, were carried into +faraway parts of the country, while new people came into the station +from a nearby street. He looked at those who were going out into the +train shed. “It may be that some of them are going to that town in Iowa +where that fellow lives,” he thought. It was odd how thoughts of the +unknown Iowa man clung to him. + +One day, during the same summer and but a few months earlier, Hugh had +gone to the town of Sandusky, Ohio, on the same mission that had brought +him to Pittsburgh. How many parts for the hay-loading machine had been +cast and later thrown away! They did the work, but he decided each time +that he had infringed on the other man's machine. When that happened he +did not consult Tom. Something within him warned him against doing that. +He destroyed the part. “It wasn't what I wanted,” he told Tom who had +grown discouraged with his son-in-law but did not openly voice his +dissatisfaction. “Oh, well, he's lost his pep, marriage has taken the +life out of him. We'll have to get some one else on the job,” he said to +Steve, who had entirely recovered from the wound received at the hands +of Joe Wainsworth. + +On that day when he went to Sandusky, Hugh had several hours to wait +for his homebound train and went to walk by the shores of a bay. Some +brightly colored stones attracted his attention and he picked several +of them up and put them in his pockets. In the station at Pittsburgh he +took them out and held them in his hand. A light came in at a window, a +long, slanting light that played over the stones. His roving, disturbed +mind was caught and held. He rolled the stones back and forth. The +colors blended and then separated again. When he raised his eyes, a +woman and a child on a nearby bench, also attracted by the flashing bit +of color held like a flame in his hand, were looking at him intently. + +He was confused and walked out of the station into the street. “What a +silly fellow I have become, playing with colored stones like a child,” + he thought, but at the same time put the stones carefully into his +pockets. + +Ever since that night when he had been attacked in the motor, the sense +of some indefinable, inner struggle had been going on in Hugh, as it +went on that day in the station at Pittsburgh and on the night in the +shop, when he found himself unable to fix his attention on the prints +of the Iowa man's machine. Unconsciously and quite without intent he had +come into a new level of thought and action. He had been an unconscious +worker, a doer and was now becoming something else. The time of the +comparatively simple struggle with definite things, with iron and steel, +had passed. He fought to accept himself, to understand himself, to +relate himself with the life about him. The poor white, son of the +defeated dreamer by the river, who had forced himself in advance of his +fellows along the road of mechanical development, was still in advance +of his fellows of the growing Ohio towns. The struggle he was making was +the struggle his fellows of another generation would one and all have to +make. + +Hugh got into his home-bound train at four o'clock and went into the +smoking car. The somewhat distorted and twisted fragment of thoughts +that had all day been playing through his mind stayed with him. “What +difference does it make if the new parts I have ordered for the machine +have to be thrown away?” he thought. “If I never complete the machine, +it's all right. The one the Iowa man had made does the work.” + +For a long time he struggled with that thought. Tom, Steve, all the +Bidwell men with whom he had been associated, had a philosophy into +which the thought did not fit. “When you put your hand to the plow do +not turn back,” they said. Their language was full of such sayings. To +attempt to do a thing and fail was the great crime, the sin against the +Holy Ghost. There was unconscious defiance of a whole civilization in +Hugh's attitude toward the completion of the parts that would help Tom +and his business associates “get around” the Iowa man's patent. + +The train from Pittsburgh went through northern Ohio to a junction +where Hugh would get another train for Bidwell. Great booming towns, +Youngstown, Akron, Canton, Massillon--manufacturing towns all--lay along +the way. In the smoker Hugh sat, again playing with the colored stones +held in his hand. There was relief for his mind in the stones. The light +continually played about them, and their color shifted and changed. One +could look at the stones and get relief from thoughts. Raising his +eyes he looked out of the car window. The train was passing through +Youngstown. His eyes looked along grimy streets of worker's houses +clustered closely about huge mills. The same light that had played over +the stones in his hand began to play over his mind, and for a moment +he became not an inventor but a poet. The revolution within had really +begun. A new declaration of independence wrote itself within him. “The +gods have thrown the towns like stones over the flat country, but the +stones have no color. They do not burn and change in the light,” he +thought. + +Two men who sat in a seat in the westward bound train began to talk, +and Hugh listened. One of them had a son in college. “I want him to be +a mechanical engineer,” he said. “If he doesn't do that I'll get him +started in business. It's a mechanical age and a business age. I want to +see him succeed. I want him to keep in the spirit of the times.” + +Hugh's train was due in Bidwell at ten, but did not arrive until half +after eleven. He walked from the station through the town toward the +Butterworth farm. + +At the end of their first year of marriage a daughter had been born to +Clara, and some time before his trip to Pittsburgh she had told him +she was again pregnant. “She may be sitting up. I must get home,” he +thought, but when he got to the bridge near the farmhouse, the bridge on +which he had stood beside Clara that first time they were together, he +got out of the road and went to sit on a fallen log at the edge of a +grove of trees. + +“How quiet and peaceful the night!” he thought and leaning forward held +his long, troubled face in his hands. He wondered why peace and quiet +would not come to him, why life would not let him alone. “After all, +I've lived a simple life and have done good work,” he thought. “Some of +the things they've said about me are true enough. I've invented machines +that save useless labor, I've lightened men's labor.” + +Hugh tried to cling to that thought, but it would not stay in his mind. +All the thoughts that gave his mind peace and quiet flew away like birds +seen on a distant horizon at evening. It had been so ever since that +night when he was suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by the crazed +harness maker in the motor. Before that his mind had often been +unsettled, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted men and women and close +association with men and women. Often his problem was yet more simple. +He wanted a woman, one who would love him and lie close to him at night. +He wanted the respect of his fellows in the town where he had come to +live his life. He wanted to succeed at the particular task to which he +had set his hand. + +The attack made upon him by the insane harness maker had at first +seemed to settle all his problems. At the moment when the frightened and +desperate man sank his teeth and fingers into Hugh's neck, something had +happened to Clara. It was Clara who, with a strength and quickness quite +amazing, had torn the insane man away. All through that evening she had +been hating her husband and father, and then suddenly she loved Hugh. +The seeds of a child were already alive in her, and when the body of her +man was furiously attacked, he became also her child. Swiftly, like +the passing of a shadow over the surface of a river on a windy day, the +change in her attitude toward her husband took place. All that evening +she had been hating the new age she had thought so perfectly personified +in the two men, who talked of the making of machines while the beauty +of the night was whirled away into the darkness with the cloud of dust +thrown into the air by the flying motor. She had been hating Hugh +and sympathizing with the dead past he and other men like him were +destroying, the past that was represented by the figure of the old +harness maker who wanted to do his work by hand in the old way, by the +man who had aroused the scorn and derision of her father. + +And then the past rose up to strike. It struck with claws and teeth, and +the claws and teeth sank into Hugh's flesh, into the flesh of the man +whose seed was already alive within her. + +At that moment the woman who had been a thinker stopped thinking. Within +her arose the mother, fierce, indomitable, strong with the strength of +the roots of a tree. To her then and forever after Hugh was no hero, +remaking the world, but a perplexed boy hurt by life. He never again +escaped out of boyhood in her consciousness of him. With the strength +of a tigress she tore the crazed harness maker away from Hugh, and with +something of the surface brutality of another Ed Hall, threw him to +the floor of the car. When Ed and the policeman, assisted by several +bystanders, came running forward, she waited almost indifferently while +they forced the screaming and kicking man through the crowd and in at +the door of the police station. + +For Clara the thing for which she had hungered had, she thought, +happened. In quick, sharp tones she ordered her father to drive the +car to a doctor's house and later stood by while the torn and lacerated +flesh of Hugh's cheek and neck was bandaged. The thing for which Joe +Wainsworth stood and that she had thought was so precious to herself no +longer existed in her consciousness, and if later she was for some weeks +nervous and half ill, it was not because of any thought given to the +fate of the old harness maker. + +The sudden attack out of the town's past had brought Hugh to Clara, had +made him a living if not quite satisfying companion to her, but it had +brought something quite different to Hugh. The bite of the man's teeth +and the torn places on his cheeks left by the tense fingers had mended, +leaving but a slight scar; but a virus had got into his veins. The +disease of thinking had upset the harness maker's mind and the germ of +that disease had got into Hugh's blood. It had worked up into his eyes +and ears. Words men dropped thoughtlessly and that in the past had been +blown past his ears, as chaff is blown from wheat in the harvest, now +stayed to echo and re-echo in his mind. In the past he had seen towns +and factories grow and had accepted without question men's word that +growth was invariably good. Now his eyes looked at the towns, at +Bidwell, Akron, Youngstown, and all the great, new towns scattered +up and down mid-western America as on the train and in the station at +Pittsburgh he had looked at the colored stones held in his hand. He +looked at the towns and wanted light and color to play over them as they +played over the stones, and when that did not happen, his mind, filled +with strange new hungers engendered by the disease of thinking, made up +words over which lights played. “The gods have scattered towns over +the flat lands,” his mind had said, as he sat in the smoking car of the +train, and the phrase came back to him later, as he sat in the darkness +on the log with his head held in his hands. It was a good phrase and +lights could play over it as they played over the colored stones, but it +would in no way answer the problem of how to “get around” the Iowa's man +patent on the hay loading device. + +Hugh did not get to the Butterworth farmhouse until two o'clock in the +morning, but when he got there his wife was awake and waiting for him. +She heard his heavy, dragging footsteps in the road as he turned in at +the farm gate, and getting quickly out of bed, threw a cloak over her +shoulders and came out to the porch facing the barns. A late moon had +come up and the barnyard was washed with moonlight. From the barns came +the low, sweet sound of contented animals nibbling at the hay in the +mangers before them, from a row of sheds back of one of the barns came +the soft bleating of sheep and in a far away field a calf bellowed +loudly and was answered by its mother. + +When Hugh stepped into the moonlight around the corner of the house, +Clara ran down the steps to meet him, and taking his arm, led him past +the barns and over the bridge where as a child she had seen the figures +of her fancy advancing towards her. Sensing his troubled state her +mother spirit was aroused. He was unfilled by the life he led. She +understood that. It was so with her. By a lane they went to a fence +where nothing but open fields lay between the farm and the town far +below. Although she sensed his troubled state, Clara was not thinking +of Hugh's trip to Pittsburgh nor of the problems connected with the +completion of the hay-loading machine. It may be that like her father +she had dismissed from her mind all thoughts of him as one who would +continue to help solve the mechanical problems of his age. Thoughts +of his continued success had never meant much to her, but during the +evening something had happened to Clara and she wanted to tell him about +it, to take him into the joy of it. Their first child had been a girl +and she was sure the next would be a man child. “I felt him to-night,” + she said, when they had got to the place by the fence and saw below the +lights of the town. “I felt him to-night,” she said again, “and oh, he +was strong! He kicked like anything. I am sure this time it's a boy.” + +For perhaps ten minutes Clara and Hugh stood by the fence. The disease +of thinking that was making Hugh useless for the work of his age had +swept away many old things within him and he was not self-conscious in +the presence of his woman. When she told him of the struggle of the man +of another generation, striving to be born he put his arm about her and +held her close against his long body. For a time they stood in silence, +and then started to return to the house and sleep. As they went past +the barns and the bunkhouse where several men now slept they heard, as +though coming out of the past, the loud snoring of the rapidly ageing +farm hand, Jim Priest, and then above that sound and above the sound of +the animals stirring in the barns arose another sound, a sound shrill +and intense, greetings perhaps to an unborn Hugh McVey. For some reason, +perhaps to announce a shift in crews, the factories of Bidwell that were +engaged in night work set up a great whistling and screaming. The sound +ran up the hillside and rang in the ears of Hugh as, with his arm about +Clara's shoulders, he went up the steps and in at the farmhouse door. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poor White, by Sherwood Anderson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + +***** This file should be named 7414-0.txt or 7414-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/1/7414/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Poor White + +Author: Sherwood Anderson + + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7414] +This file was first posted on April 26, 2003 +Last Updated: March 14, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + + + + +Text file produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + + + +</pre> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + POOR WHITE + </h1> + <h3> + A NOVEL + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Sherwood Anderson + </h2> + <h4> + Author of Winesburg, Ohio + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h3> + TO + </h3> + <h3> + TENNESSEE MITCHELL ANDERSON + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div class="middle"> + <p> + [Note: The evident misprint of Book Six for Book Five in the original is + preserved here.] + </p> + </div> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>BOOK ONE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> <b>BOOK TWO</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> <b>BOOK THREE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> <b>BOOK FOUR</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> <b>BOOK SIX</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p> + <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 ONE + </h2> + <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 + </h2> + <p> + Hugh McVey was born in a little hole of a town stuck on a mud bank on the + western shore of the Mississippi River in the State of Missouri. It was a + miserable place in which to be born. With the exception of a narrow strip + of black mud along the river, the land for ten miles back from the town—called + in derision by river men “Mudcat Landing”—was almost entirely + worthless and unproductive. The soil, yellow, shallow and stony, was + tilled, in Hugh's time, by a race of long gaunt men who seemed as + exhausted and no-account as the land on which they lived. They were + chronically discouraged, and the merchants and artisans of the town were + in the same state. The merchants, who ran their stores—poor + tumble-down ramshackle affairs—on the credit system, could not get + pay for the goods they handed out over their counters and the artisans, + the shoemakers, carpenters and harnessmakers, could not get pay for the + work they did. Only the town's two saloons prospered. The saloon keepers + sold their wares for cash and, as the men of the town and the farmers who + drove into town felt that without drink life was unbearable, cash always + could be found for the purpose of getting drunk. + </p> + <p> + Hugh McVey's father, John McVey, had been a farm hand in his youth but + before Hugh was born had moved into town to find employment in a tannery. + The tannery ran for a year or two and then failed, but John McVey stayed + in town. He also became a drunkard. It was the easy obvious thing for him + to do. During the time of his employment in the tannery he had been + married and his son had been born. Then his wife died and the idle workman + took his child and went to live in a tiny fishing shack by the river. How + the boy lived through the next few years no one ever knew. John McVey + loitered in the streets and on the river bank and only awakened out of his + habitual stupor when, driven by hunger or the craving for drink, he went + for a day's work in some farmer's field at harvest time or joined a number + of other idlers for an adventurous trip down river on a lumber raft. The + baby was left shut up in the shack by the river or carried about wrapped + in a soiled blanket. Soon after he was old enough to walk he was compelled + to find work in order that he might eat. The boy of ten went listlessly + about town at the heels of his father. The two found work, which the boy + did while the man lay sleeping in the sun. They cleaned cisterns, swept + out stores and saloons and at night went with a wheelbarrow and a box to + remove and dump in the river the contents of out-houses. At fourteen Hugh + was as tall as his father and almost without education. He could read a + little and could write his own name, had picked up these accomplishments + from other boys who came to fish with him in the river, but he had never + been to school. For days sometimes he did nothing but lie half asleep in + the shade of a bush on the river bank. The fish he caught on his more + industrious days he sold for a few cents to some housewife, and thus got + money to buy food for his big growing indolent body. Like an animal that + has come to its maturity he turned away from his father, not because of + resentment for his hard youth, but because he thought it time to begin to + go his own way. + </p> + <p> + In his fourteenth year and when the boy was on the point of sinking into + the sort of animal-like stupor in which his father had lived, something + happened to him. A railroad pushed its way down along the river to his + town and he got a job as man of all work for the station master. He swept + out the station, put trunks on trains, mowed the grass in the station yard + and helped in a hundred odd ways the man who held the combined jobs of + ticket seller, baggage master and telegraph operator at the little + out-of-the-way place. + </p> + <p> + Hugh began a little to awaken. He lived with his employer, Henry Shepard, + and his wife, Sarah Shepard, and for the first time in his life sat down + regularly at table. His life, lying on the river bank through long summer + afternoons or sitting perfectly still for endless hours in a boat, had + bred in him a dreamy detached outlook on life. He found it hard to be + definite and to do definite things, but for all his stupidity the boy had + a great store of patience, a heritage perhaps from his mother. In his new + place the station master's wife, Sarah Shepard, a sharp-tongued, + good-natured woman, who hated the town and the people among whom fate had + thrown her, scolded at him all day long. She treated him like a child of + six, told him how to sit at table, how to hold his fork when he ate, how + to address people who came to the house or to the station. The mother in + her was aroused by Hugh's helplessness and, having no children of her own, + she began to take the tall awkward boy to her heart. She was a small woman + and when she stood in the house scolding the great stupid boy who stared + down at her with his small perplexed eyes, the two made a picture that + afforded endless amusement to her husband, a short fat bald-headed man who + went about clad in blue overalls and a blue cotton shirt. Coming to the + back door of his house, that was within a stone's throw of the station, + Henry Shepard stood with his hand on the door-jamb and watched the woman + and the boy. Above the scolding voice of the woman his own voice arose. + “Look out, Hugh,” he called. “Be on the jump, lad! Perk yourself up. + She'll be biting you if you don't go mighty careful in there.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh got little money for his work at the railroad station but for the + first time in his life he began to fare well. Henry Shepard bought the boy + clothes, and his wife, Sarah, who was a master of the art of cooking, + loaded the table with good things to eat. Hugh ate until both the man and + woman declared he would burst if he did not stop. Then when they were not + looking he went into the station yard and crawling under a bush went to + sleep. The station master came to look for him. He cut a switch from the + bush and began to beat the boy's bare feet. Hugh awoke and was overcome + with confusion. He got to his feet and stood trembling, half afraid he was + to be driven away from his new home. The man and the confused blushing boy + confronted each other for a moment and then the man adopted the method of + his wife and began to scold. He was annoyed at what he thought the boy's + indolence and found a hundred little tasks for him to do. He devoted + himself to finding tasks for Hugh, and when he could think of no new ones, + invented them. “We will have to keep the big lazy fellow on the jump. + That's the secret of things,” he said to his wife. + </p> + <p> + The boy learned to keep his naturally indolent body moving and his clouded + sleepy mind fixed on definite things. For hours he plodded straight ahead, + doing over and over some appointed task. He forgot the purpose of the job + he had been given to do and did it because it was a job and would keep him + awake. One morning he was told to sweep the station platform and as his + employer had gone away without giving him additional tasks and as he was + afraid that if he sat down he would fall into the odd detached kind of + stupor in which he had spent so large a part of his life, he continued to + sweep for two or three hours. The station platform was built of rough + boards and Hugh's arms were very powerful. The broom he was using began to + go to pieces. Bits of it flew about and after an hour's work the platform + looked more uncleanly than when he began. Sarah Shepard came to the door + of her house and stood watching. She was about to call to him and to scold + him again for his stupidity when a new impulse came to her. She saw the + serious determined look on the boy's long gaunt face and a flash of + understanding came to her. Tears came into her eyes and her arms ached to + take the great boy and hold him tightly against her breast. With all her + mother's soul she wanted to protect Hugh from a world she was sure would + treat him always as a beast of burden and would take no account of what + she thought of as the handicap of his birth. Her morning's work was done + and without saying anything to Hugh, who continued to go up and down the + platform laboriously sweeping, she went out at the front door of the house + and to one of the town stores. There she bought a half dozen books, a + geography, an arithmetic, a speller and two or three readers. She had made + up her mind to become Hugh McVey's school teacher and with characteristic + energy did not put the matter off, but went about it at once. When she got + back to her house and saw the boy still going doggedly up and down the + platform, she did not scold but spoke to him with a new gentleness in her + manner. “Well, my boy, you may put the broom away now and come to the + house,” she suggested. “I've made up my mind to take you for my own boy + and I don't want to be ashamed of you. If you're going to live with me I + can't have you growing up to be a lazy good-for-nothing like your father + and the other men in this hole of a place. You'll have to learn things and + I suppose I'll have to be your teacher. + </p> + <p> + “Come on over to the house at once,” she added sharply, making a quick + motion with her hand to the boy who with the broom in his hands stood + stupidly staring. “When a job is to be done there's no use putting it off. + It's going to be hard work to make an educated man of you, but it has to + be done. We might as well begin on your lessons at once.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Hugh McVey lived with Henry Shepard and his wife until he became a grown + man. After Sarah Shepard became his school teacher things began to go + better for him. The scolding of the New England woman, that had but + accentuated his awkwardness and stupidity, came to an end and life in his + adopted home became so quiet and peaceful that the boy thought of himself + as one who had come into a kind of paradise. For a time the two older + people talked of sending him to the town school, but the woman objected. + She had begun to feel so close to Hugh that he seemed a part of her own + flesh and blood and the thought of him, so huge and ungainly, sitting in a + school room with the children of the town, annoyed and irritated her. In + imagination she saw him being laughed at by other boys and could not bear + the thought. She did not like the people of the town and did not want Hugh + to associate with them. + </p> + <p> + Sarah Shepard had come from a people and a country quite different in its + aspect from that in which she now lived. Her own people, frugal New + Englanders, had come West in the year after the Civil War to take up + cut-over timber land in the southern end of the state of Michigan. The + daughter was a grown girl when her father and mother took up the westward + journey, and after they arrived at the new home, had worked with her + father in the fields. The land was covered with huge stumps and was + difficult to farm but the New Englanders were accustomed to difficulties + and were not discouraged. The land was deep and rich and the people who + had settled upon it were poor but hopeful. They felt that every day of + hard work done in clearing the land was like laying up treasure against + the future. In New England they had fought against a hard climate and had + managed to find a living on stony unproductive soil. The milder climate + and the rich deep soil of Michigan was, they felt, full of promise. + Sarah's father like most of his neighbors had gone into debt for his land + and for tools with which to clear and work it and every year spent most of + his earnings in paying interest on a mortgage held by a banker in a nearby + town, but that did not discourage him. He whistled as he went about his + work and spoke often of a future of ease and plenty. “In a few years and + when the land is cleared we'll make money hand over fist,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + When Sarah grew into young womanhood and went about among the young people + in the new country, she heard much talk of mortgages and of the difficulty + of making ends meet, but every one spoke of the hard conditions as + temporary. In every mind the future was bright with promise. Throughout + the whole Mid-American country, in Ohio, Northern Indiana and Illinois, + Wisconsin and Iowa a hopeful spirit prevailed. In every breast hope fought + a successful war with poverty and discouragement. Optimism got into the + blood of the children and later led to the same kind of hopeful courageous + development of the whole western country. The sons and daughters of these + hardy people no doubt had their minds too steadily fixed on the problem of + the paying off of mortgages and getting on in the world, but there was + courage in them. If they, with the frugal and sometimes niggardly New + Englanders from whom they were sprung, have given modern American life a + too material flavor, they have at least created a land in which a less + determinedly materialistic people may in their turn live in comfort. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of the little hopeless community of beaten men and yellow + defeated women on the bank of the Mississippi River, the woman who had + become Hugh McVey's second mother and in whose veins flowed the blood of + the pioneers, felt herself undefeated and unbeatable. She and her husband + would, she felt, stay in the Missouri town for a while and then move on to + a larger town and a better position in life. They would move on and up + until the little fat man was a railroad president or a millionaire. It was + the way things were done. She had no doubt of the future. “Do everything + well,” she said to her husband, who was perfectly satisfied with his + position in life and had no exalted notions as to his future. “Remember to + make your reports out neatly and clearly. Show them you can do perfectly + the task given you to do, and you will be given a chance at a larger task. + Some day when you least expect it something will happen. You will be + called up into a position of power. We won't be compelled to stay in this + hole of a place very long.” + </p> + <p> + The ambitious energetic little woman, who had taken the son of the + indolent farm hand to her heart, constantly talked to him of her own + people. Every afternoon when her housework was done she took the boy into + the front room of the house and spent hours laboring with him over his + lessons. She worked upon the problem of rooting the stupidity and dullness + out of his mind as her father had worked at the problem of rooting the + stumps out of the Michigan land. After the lesson for the day had been + gone over and over until Hugh was in a stupor of mental weariness, she put + the books aside and talked to him. With glowing fervor she made for him a + picture of her own youth and the people and places where she had lived. In + the picture she represented the New Englanders of the Michigan farming + community as a strong god-like race, always honest, always frugal, and + always pushing ahead. His own people she utterly condemned. She pitied him + for the blood in his veins. The boy had then and all his life certain + physical difficulties she could never understand. The blood did not flow + freely through his long body. His feet and hands were always cold and + there was for him an almost sensual satisfaction to be had from just lying + perfectly still in the station yard and letting the hot sun beat down on + him. + </p> + <p> + Sarah Shepard looked upon what she called Hugh's laziness as a thing of + the spirit. “You have got to get over it,” she declared. “Look at your own + people—poor white trash—how lazy and shiftless they are. You + can't be like them. It's a sin to be so dreamy and worthless.” + </p> + <p> + Swept along by the energetic spirit of the woman, Hugh fought to overcome + his inclination to give himself up to vaporous dreams. He became convinced + that his own people were really of inferior stock, that they were to be + kept away from and not to be taken into account. During the first year + after he came to live with the Shepards, he sometimes gave way to a desire + to return to his old lazy life with his father in the shack by the river. + People got off steamboats at the town and took the train to other towns + lying back from the river. He earned a little money by carrying trunks + filled with clothes or traveling men's samples up an incline from the + steamboat landing to the railroad station. Even at fourteen the strength + in his long gaunt body was so great that he could out-lift any man in + town, and he put one of the trunks on his shoulder and walked slowly and + stolidly away with it as a farm horse might have walked along a country + road with a boy of six perched on his back. + </p> + <p> + The money earned in this way Hugh for a time gave to his father, and when + the man had become stupid with drink he grew quarrelsome and demanded that + the boy return to live with him. Hugh had not the spirit to refuse and + sometimes did not want to refuse. When neither the station master nor his + wife was about he slipped away and went with his father to sit for a half + day with his back against the wall of the fishing shack, his soul at + peace. In the sunlight he sat and stretched forth his long legs. His small + sleepy eyes stared out over the river. A delicious feeling crept over him + and for the moment he thought of himself as completely happy and made up + his mind that he did not want to return again to the railroad station and + to the woman who was so determined to arouse him and make of him a man of + her own people. + </p> + <p> + Hugh looked at his father asleep and snoring in the long grass on the + river bank. An odd feeling of disloyalty crept over him and he became + uncomfortable. The man's mouth was open and he snored lustily. From his + greasy and threadbare clothing arose the smell of fish. Flies gathered in + swarms and alighted on his face. Disgust took possession of Hugh. A + flickering but ever recurring light came into his eyes. With all the + strength of his awakening soul he struggled against the desire to give way + to the inclination to stretch himself out beside the man and sleep. The + words of the New England woman, who was, he knew, striving to lift him out + of slothfulness and ugliness into some brighter and better way of life, + echoed dimly in his mind. When he arose and went back along the street to + the station master's house and when the woman there looked at him + reproachfully and muttered words about the poor white trash of the town, + he was ashamed and looked at the floor. + </p> + <p> + Hugh began to hate his own father and his own people. He connected the man + who had bred him with the dreaded inclination toward sloth in himself. + When the farmhand came to the station and demanded the money he had earned + by carrying trunks, he turned away and went across a dusty road to the + Shepard's house. After a year or two he paid no more attention to the + dissolute farmhand who came occasionally to the station to mutter and + swear at him; and, when he had earned a little money, gave it to the woman + to keep for him. “Well,” he said, speaking slowly and with the hesitating + drawl characteristic of his people, “if you give me time I'll learn. I + want to be what you want me to be. If you stick to me I'll try to make a + man of myself.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Hugh McVey lived in the Missouri town under the tutelage of Sarah Shepard + until he was nineteen years old. Then the station master gave up + railroading and went back to Michigan. Sarah Shepard's father had died + after having cleared one hundred and twenty acres of the cut-over timber + land and it had been left to her. The dream that had for years lurked in + the back of the little woman's mind and in which she saw bald-headed, + good-natured Henry Shepard become a power in the railroad world had begun + to fade. In newspapers and magazines she read constantly of other men who, + starting from a humble position in the railroad service, soon became rich + and powerful, but nothing of the kind seemed likely to happen to her + husband. Under her watchful eye he did his work well and carefully but + nothing came of it. Officials of the railroad sometimes passed through the + town riding in private cars hitched to the end of one of the through + trains, but the trains did not stop and the officials did not alight and, + calling Henry out of the station, reward his faithfulness by piling new + responsibilities upon him, as railroad officials did in such cases in the + stories she read. When her father died and she saw a chance to again turn + her face eastward and to live again among her own people, she told her + husband to resign his position with the air of one accepting an undeserved + defeat. The station master managed to get Hugh appointed in his place, and + the two people went away one gray morning in October, leaving the tall + ungainly young man in charge of affairs. He had books to keep, freight + waybills to make out, messages to receive, dozens of definite things to + do. Early in the morning before the train that was to take her away, came + to the station, Sarah Shepard called the young man to her and repeated the + instructions she had so often given her husband. “Do everything neatly and + carefully,” she said. “Show yourself worthy of the trust that has been + given you.” + </p> + <p> + The New England woman wanted to assure the boy, as she had so often + assured her husband, that if he would but work hard and faithfully + promotion would inevitably come; but in the face of the fact that Henry + Shepard had for years done without criticism the work Hugh was to do and + had received neither praise nor blame from those above him, she found it + impossible to say the words that arose to her lips. The woman and the son + of the people among whom she had lived for five years and had so often + condemned, stood beside each other in embarrassed silence. Stripped of her + assurance as to the purpose of life and unable to repeat her accustomed + formula, Sarah Shepard had nothing to say. Hugh's tall figure, leaning + against the post that supported the roof of the front porch of the little + house where she had taught him his lessons day after day, seemed to her + suddenly old and she thought his long solemn face suggested a wisdom older + and more mature than her own. An odd revulsion of feeling swept over her. + For the moment she began to doubt the advisability of trying to be smart + and to get on in life. If Hugh had been somewhat smaller of frame so that + her mind could have taken hold of the fact of his youth and immaturity, + she would no doubt have taken him into her arms and said words regarding + her doubts. Instead she also became silent and the minutes slipped away as + the two people stood before each other and stared at the floor of the + porch. When the train on which she was to leave blew a warning whistle, + and Henry Shepard called to her from the station platform, she put a hand + on the lapel of Hugh's coat and drawing his face down, for the first time + kissed him on the cheek. Tears came into her eyes and into the eyes of the + young man. When he stepped across the porch to get her bag Hugh stumbled + awkwardly against a chair. “Well, you do the best you can here,” Sarah + Shepard said quickly and then out of long habit and half unconsciously did + repeat her formula. “Do little things well and big opportunities are bound + to come,” she declared as she walked briskly along beside Hugh across the + narrow road and to the station and the train that was to bear her away. + </p> + <p> + After the departure of Sarah and Henry Shepard Hugh continued to struggle + with his inclination to give way to dreams. It seemed to him a struggle it + was necessary to win in order that he might show his respect and + appreciation of the woman who had spent so many long hours laboring with + him. Although, under her tutelage, he had received a better education than + any other young man of the river town, he had lost none of his physical + desire to sit in the sun and do nothing. When he worked, every task had to + be consciously carried on from minute to minute. After the woman left, + there were days when he sat in the chair in the telegraph office and + fought a desperate battle with himself. A queer determined light shone in + his small gray eyes. He arose from the chair and walked up and down the + station platform. Each time as he lifted one of his long feet and set it + slowly down a special little effort had to be made. To move about at all + was a painful performance, something he did not want to do. All physical + acts were to him dull but necessary parts of his training for a vague and + glorious future that was to come to him some day in a brighter and more + beautiful land that lay in the direction thought of rather indefinitely as + the East. “If I do not move and keep moving I'll become like father, like + all of the people about here,” Hugh said to himself. He thought of the man + who had bred him and whom he occasionally saw drifting aimlessly along + Main Street or sleeping away a drunken stupor on the river bank. He was + disgusted with him and had come to share the opinion the station master's + wife had always held concerning the people of the Missouri village. + “They're a lot of miserable lazy louts,” she had declared a thousand + times, and Hugh, agreed with her, but sometimes wondered if in the end he + might not also become a lazy lout. That possibility he knew was in him and + for the sake of the woman as well as for his own sake he was determined it + should not be so. + </p> + <p> + The truth is that the people of Mudcat Landing were totally unlike any of + the people Sarah Shepard had ever known and unlike the people Hugh was to + know during his mature life. He who had come from a people not smart was + to live among smart energetic men and women and be called a big man by + them without in the least understanding what they were talking about. + </p> + <p> + Practically all of the people of Hugh's home town were of Southern origin. + Living originally in a land where all physical labor was performed by + slaves, they had come to have a deep aversion to physical labor. In the + South their fathers, having no money to buy slaves of their own and being + unwilling to compete with slave labor, had tried to live without labor. + For the most part they lived in the mountains and the hill country of + Kentucky and Tennessee, on land too poor and unproductive to be thought + worth cultivating by their rich slave-owning neighbors of the valleys and + plains. Their food was meager and of an enervating sameness and their + bodies degenerate. Children grew up long and gaunt and yellow like badly + nourished plants. Vague indefinite hungers took hold of them and they gave + themselves over to dreams. The more energetic among them, sensing dimly + the unfairness of their position in life, became vicious and dangerous. + Feuds started among them and they killed each other to express their + hatred of life. When, in the years preceding the Civil War, a few of them + pushed north along the rivers and settled in Southern Indiana and Illinois + and in Eastern Missouri and Arkansas, they seemed to have exhausted their + energy in making the voyage and slipped quickly back into their old + slothful way of life. Their impulse to emigrate did not carry them far and + but a few of them ever reached the rich corn lands of central Indiana, + Illinois or Iowa or the equally rich land back from the river in Missouri + or Arkansas. In Southern Indiana and Illinois they were merged into the + life about them and with the infusion of new blood they a little awoke. + They have tempered the quality of the peoples of those regions, made them + perhaps less harshly energetic than their forefathers, the pioneers. In + many of the Missouri and Arkansas river towns they have changed but + little. A visitor to these parts may see them there to-day, long, gaunt, + and lazy, sleeping their lives away and awakening out of their stupor only + at long intervals and at the call of hunger. + </p> + <p> + As for Hugh McVey, he stayed in his home town and among his own people for + a year after the departure of the man and woman who had been father and + mother to him, and then he also departed. All through the year he worked + constantly to cure himself of the curse of indolence. When he awoke in the + morning he did not dare lie in bed for a moment for fear indolence would + overcome him and he would not be able to arise at all. Getting out of bed + at once he dressed and went to the station. During the day there was not + much work to be done and he walked for hours up and down the station + platform. When he sat down he at once took up a book and put his mind to + work. When the pages of the book became indistinct before his eyes and he + felt within him the inclination to drift off into dreams, he again arose + and walked up and down the platform. Having accepted the New England + woman's opinion of his own people and not wanting to associate with them, + his life became utterly lonely and his loneliness also drove him to labor. + </p> + <p> + Something happened to him. Although his body would not and never did + become active, his mind began suddenly to work with feverish eagerness. + The vague thoughts and feelings that had always been a part of him but + that had been indefinite, ill-defined things, like clouds floating far + away in a hazy sky, began to grow definite. In the evening after his work + was done and he had locked the station for the night, he did not go to the + town hotel where he had taken a room and where he ate his meals, but + wandered about town and along the road that ran south beside the great + mysterious river. A hundred new and definite desires and hungers awoke in + him. He began to want to talk with people, to know men and most of all to + know women, but the disgust for his fellows in the town, engendered in him + by Sarah Shepard's words and most of all by the things in his nature that + were like their natures, made him draw back. When in the fall at the end + of the year after the Shepards had left and he began living alone, his + father was killed in a senseless quarrel with a drunken river man over the + ownership of a dog, a sudden, and what seemed to him at the moment heroic + resolution came to him. He went early one morning to one of the town's two + saloon keepers, a man who had been his father's' nearest approach to a + friend and companion, and gave him money to bury the dead man. Then he + wired to the headquarters of the railroad company telling them to send a + man to Mudcat Landing to take his place. On the afternoon of the day on + which his father was buried, he bought himself a handbag and packed his + few belongings. Then he sat down alone on the steps of the railroad + station to wait for the evening train that would bring the man who was to + replace him and that would at the same time take him away. He did not know + where he intended to go, but knew that he wanted to push out into a new + land and get among new people. He thought he would go east and north. He + remembered the long summer evenings in the river town when the station + master slept and his wife talked. The boy who listened had wanted to sleep + also, but with the eyes of Sarah Shepard fixed on him, had not dared to do + so. The woman had talked of a land dotted with towns where the houses were + all painted in bright colors, where young girls dressed in white dresses + went about in the evening, walking under trees beside streets paved with + bricks, where there was no dust or mud, where stores were gay bright + places filled with beautiful wares that the people had money to buy in + abundance and where every one was alive and doing things worth while and + none was slothful and lazy. The boy who had now become a man wanted to go + to such a place. His work in the railroad station had given him some idea + of the geography of the country and, although he could not have told + whether the woman who had talked so enticingly had in mind her childhood + in New England or her girlhood in Michigan, he knew in a general way that + to reach the land and the people who were to show him by their lives the + better way to form his own life, he must go east. He decided that the + further east he went the more beautiful life would become, and that he had + better not try going too far in the beginning. “I'll go into the northern + part of Indiana or Ohio,” he told himself. “There must be beautiful towns + in those places.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh was boyishly eager to get on his way and to become at once a part of + the life in a new place. The gradual awakening of his mind had given him + courage, and he thought of himself as armed and ready for association with + men. He wanted to become acquainted with and be the friend of people whose + lives were beautifully lived and who were themselves beautiful and full of + significance. As he sat on the steps of the railroad station in the poor + little Missouri town with his bag beside him, and thought of all the + things he wanted to do in life, his mind became so eager and restless that + some of its restlessness was transmitted to his body. For perhaps the + first time in his life he arose without conscious effort and walked up and + down the station platform out of an excess of energy. He thought he could + not bear to wait until the train came and brought the man who was to take + his place. “Well, I'm going away, I'm going away to be a man among men,” + he said to himself over and over. The saying became a kind of refrain and + he said it unconsciously. As he repeated the words his heart beat high in + anticipation of the future he thought lay before him. + </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 + </h2> + <p> + Hugh McVey left the town of Mudcat Landing in early September of the year + eighteen eighty-six. He was then twenty years old and was six feet and + four inches tall. The whole upper part of his body was immensely strong + but his long legs were ungainly and lifeless. He secured a pass from the + railroad company that had employed him, and rode north along the river in + the night train until he came to a large town named Burlington in the + State of Iowa. There a bridge went over the river, and the railroad tracks + joined those of a trunk line and ran eastward toward Chicago; but Hugh did + not continue his journey on that night. Getting off the train he went to a + nearby hotel and took a room for the night. + </p> + <p> + It was a cool clear evening and Hugh was restless. The town of Burlington, + a prosperous place in the midst of a rich farming country, overwhelmed him + with its stir and bustle. For the first time he saw brick-paved streets + and streets lighted with lamps. Although it was nearly ten o'clock at + night when he arrived, people still walked about in the streets and many + stores were open. + </p> + <p> + The hotel where he had taken a room faced the railroad tracks and stood at + the corner of a brightly lighted street. When he had been shown to his + room Hugh sat for a half hour by an open window, and then as he could not + sleep, decided to go for a walk. For a time he walked in the streets where + the people stood about before the doors of the stores but, as his tall + figure attracted attention and he felt people staring at him, he went + presently into a side street. + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes he became utterly lost. He went through what seemed to + him miles of streets lined with frame and brick houses, and occasionally + passed people, but was too timid and embarrassed to ask his way. The + street climbed upward and after a time he got into open country and + followed a road that ran along a cliff overlooking the Mississippi River. + The night was clear and the sky brilliant with stars. In the open, away + from the multitude of houses, he no longer felt awkward and afraid, and + went cheerfully along. After a time he stopped and stood facing the river. + Standing on a high cliff and with a grove of trees at his back, the stars + seemed to have all gathered in the eastern sky. Below him the water of the + river reflected the stars. They seemed to be making a pathway for him into + the East. + </p> + <p> + The tall Missouri countryman sat down on a log near the edge of the cliff + and tried to see the water in the river below. Nothing was visible but a + bed of stars that danced and twinkled in the darkness. He had made his way + to a place far above the railroad bridge, but presently a through + passenger train from the West passed over it and the lights of the train + looked also like stars, stars that moved and beckoned and that seemed to + fly like flocks of birds out of the West into the East. + </p> + <p> + For several hours Hugh sat on the log in the darkness. He decided that it + was hopeless for him to find his way back to the hotel, and was glad of + the excuse for staying abroad. His body for the first time in his life + felt light and strong and his mind was feverishly awake. A buggy in which + sat a young man and woman went along the road at his back, and after the + voices had died away silence came, broken only at long intervals during + the hours when he sat thinking of his future by the barking of a dog in + some distant house or the churning of the paddle-wheels of a passing river + boat. + </p> + <p> + All of the early formative years of Hugh McVey's life had been spent + within sound of the lapping of the waters of the Mississippi River. He had + seen it in the hot summer when the water receded and the mud lay baked and + cracked along the edge of the water; in the spring when the floods raged + and the water went whirling past, bearing tree logs and even parts of + houses; in the winter when the water looked deathly cold and ice floated + past; and in the fall when it was quiet and still and lovely, and seemed + to have sucked an almost human quality of warmth out of the red trees that + lined its shores. Hugh had spent hours and days sitting or lying in the + grass beside the river. The fishing shack in which he had lived with his + father until he was fourteen years old was within a half dozen long + strides of the river's edge, and the boy had often been left there alone + for a week at a time. When his father had gone for a trip on a lumber raft + or to work for a few days on some farm in the country back from the river, + the boy, left often without money and with but a few loaves of bread, went + fishing when he was hungry and when he was not did nothing but idle the + days away in the grass on the river bank. Boys from the town came + sometimes to spend an hour with him, but in their presence he was + embarrassed and a little annoyed. He wanted to be left alone with his + dreams. One of the boys, a sickly, pale, undeveloped lad of ten, often + stayed with him through an entire summer afternoon. He was the son of a + merchant in the town and grew quickly tired when he tried to follow other + boys about. On the river bank he lay beside Hugh in silence. The two got + into Hugh's boat and went fishing and the merchant's son grew animated and + talked. He taught Hugh to write his own name and to read a few words. The + shyness that kept them apart had begun to break down, when the merchant's + son caught some childhood disease and died. + </p> + <p> + In the darkness above the cliff that night in Burlington Hugh remembered + things concerning his boyhood that had not come back to his mind in years. + The very thoughts that had passed through his mind during those long days + of idling on the river bank came streaming back. + </p> + <p> + After his fourteenth year when he went to work at the railroad station + Hugh had stayed away from the river. With his work at the station, and in + the garden back of Sarah Shepard's house, and the lessons in the + afternoons, he had little idle time. On Sundays however things were + different. Sarah Shepard did not go to church after she came to Mudcat + Landing, but she would have no work done on Sundays. On Sunday afternoons + in the summer she and her husband sat in chairs beneath a tree beside the + house and went to sleep. Hugh got into the habit of going off by himself. + He wanted to sleep also, but did not dare. He went along the river bank by + the road that ran south from the town, and when he had followed it two or + three miles, turned into a grove of trees and lay down in the shade. + </p> + <p> + The long summer Sunday afternoons had been delightful times for Hugh, so + delightful that he finally gave them up, fearing they might lead him to + take up again his old sleepy way of life. Now as he sat in the darkness + above the same river he had gazed on through the long Sunday afternoons, a + spasm of something like loneliness swept over him. For the first time he + thought about leaving the river country and going into a new land with a + keen feeling of regret. + </p> + <p> + On the Sunday afternoons in the woods south of Mudcat Landing Hugh had + lain perfectly still in the grass for hours. The smell of dead fish that + had always been present about the shack where he spent his boyhood, was + gone and there were no swarms of flies. Above his head a breeze played + through the branches of the trees, and insects sang in the grass. + Everything about him was clean. A lovely stillness pervaded the river and + the woods. He lay on his belly and gazed down over the river out of + sleep-heavy eyes into hazy distances. Half formed thoughts passed like + visions through his mind. He dreamed, but his dreams were unformed and + vaporous. For hours the half dead, half alive state into which he had got, + persisted. He did not sleep but lay in a land between sleeping and waking. + Pictures formed in his mind. The clouds that floated in the sky above the + river took on strange, grotesque shapes. They began to move. One of the + clouds separated itself from the others. It moved swiftly away into the + dim distance and then returned. It became a half human thing and seemed to + be marshaling the other clouds. Under its influence they became agitated + and moved restlessly about. Out of the body of the most active of the + clouds long vaporous arms were extended. They pulled and hauled at the + other clouds making them also restless and agitated. + </p> + <p> + Hugh's mind, as he sat in the darkness on the cliff above the river that + night in Burlington, was deeply stirred. Again he was a boy lying in the + woods above his river, and the visions that had come to him there returned + with startling clearness. He got off the log and lying in the wet grass, + closed his eyes. His body became warm. + </p> + <p> + Hugh thought his mind had gone out of his body and up into the sky to join + the clouds and the stars, to play with them. From the sky he thought he + looked down on the earth and saw rolling fields, hills and forests. He had + no part in the lives of the men and women of the earth, but was torn away + from them, left to stand by himself. From his place in the sky above the + earth he saw the great river going majestically along. For a time it was + quiet and contemplative as the sky had been when he was a boy down below + lying on his belly in the wood. He saw men pass in boats and could hear + their voices dimly. A great quiet prevailed and he looked abroad beyond + the wide expanse of the river and saw fields and towns. They were all + hushed and still. An air of waiting hung over them. And then the river was + whipped into action by some strange unknown force, something that had come + out of a distant place, out of the place to which the cloud had gone and + from which it had returned to stir and agitate the other clouds. + </p> + <p> + The river now went tearing along. It overflowed its banks and swept over + the land, uprooting trees and forests and towns. The white faces of + drowned men and children, borne along by the flood, looked up into the + mind's eye of the man Hugh, who, in the moment of his setting out into the + definite world of struggle and defeat, had let himself slip back into the + vaporous dreams of his boyhood. + </p> + <p> + As he lay in the wet grass in the darkness on the cliff Hugh tried to + force his way back to consciousness, but for a long time was unsuccessful. + He rolled and writhed about and his lips muttered words. It was useless. + His mind also was swept away. The clouds of which he felt himself a part + flew across the face of the sky. They blotted out the sun from the earth, + and darkness descended on the land, on the troubled towns, on the hills + that were torn open, on the forests that were destroyed, on the peace and + quiet of all places. In the country stretching away from the river where + all had been peace and quiet, all was now agitation and unrest. Houses + were destroyed and instantly rebuilt. People gathered in whirling crowds. + </p> + <p> + The dreaming man felt himself a part of something significant and terrible + that was happening to the earth and to the peoples of the earth. Again he + struggled to awake, to force himself back out of the dream world into + consciousness. When he did awake, day was breaking and he sat on the very + edge of the cliff that looked down upon the Mississippi River, gray now in + the dim morning light. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The towns in which Hugh lived during the first three years after he began + his eastward journey were all small places containing a few hundred + people, and were scattered through Illinois, Indiana and western Ohio. All + of the people among whom he worked and lived during that time were farmers + and laborers. In the spring of the first year of his wandering he passed + through the city of Chicago and spent two hours there, going in and out at + the same railroad station. + </p> + <p> + He was not tempted to become a city man. The huge commercial city at the + foot of Lake Michigan, because of its commanding position in the very + center of a vast farming empire, had already become gigantic. He never + forgot the two hours he spent standing in the station in the heart of the + city and walking in the street adjoining the station. It was evening when + he came into the roaring, clanging place. On the long wide plains west of + the city he saw farmers at work with their spring plowing as the train + went flying along. Presently the farms grew small and the whole prairie + dotted with towns. In these the train did not stop but ran into a crowded + network of streets filled with multitudes of people. When he got into the + big dark station Hugh saw thousands of people rushing about like disturbed + insects. Unnumbered thousands of people were going out of the city at the + end of their day of work and trains waited to take them to towns on the + prairies. They came in droves, hurrying along like distraught cattle, over + a bridge and into the station. The in-bound crowds that had alighted from + through trains coming from cities of the East and West climbed up a + stairway to the street, and those that were out-bound tried to descend by + the same stairway and at the same time. The result was a whirling churning + mass of humanity. Every one pushed and crowded his way along. Men swore, + women grew angry, and children cried. Near the doorway that opened into + the street a long line of cab drivers shouted and roared. + </p> + <p> + Hugh looked at the people who were whirled along past him, and shivered + with the nameless fear of multitudes, common to country boys in the city. + When the rush of people had a little subsided he went out of the station + and, walking across a narrow street, stood by a brick store building. + Presently the rush of people began again, and again men, women, and boys + came hurrying across the bridge and ran wildly in at the doorway leading + into the station. They came in waves as water washes along a beach during + a storm. Hugh had a feeling that if he were by some chance to get caught + in the crowd he would be swept away into some unknown and terrible place. + Waiting until the rush had a little subsided, he went across the street + and on to the bridge to look at the river that flowed past the station. It + was narrow and filled with ships, and the water looked gray and dirty. A + pall of black smoke covered the sky. From all sides of him and even in the + air above his head a great clatter and roar of bells and whistles went on. + </p> + <p> + With the air of a child venturing into a dark forest Hugh went a little + way into one of the streets that led westward from the station. Again he + stopped and stood by a building. Near at hand a group of young city roughs + stood smoking and talking before a saloon. Out of a nearby building came a + young girl who approached and spoke to one of them. The man began to swear + furiously. “You tell her I'll come in there in a minute and smash her + face,” he said, and, paying no more attention to the girl, turned to stare + at Hugh. All of the young men lounging before the saloon turned to stare + at the tall countryman. They began to laugh and one of them walked quickly + toward him. + </p> + <p> + Hugh ran along the street and into the station followed by the shouts of + the young roughs. He did not venture out again, and when his train was + ready, got aboard and went gladly out of the great complex dwelling-place + of modern Americans. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went from town to town always working his way eastward, always + seeking the place where happiness was to come to him and where he was to + achieve companionship with men and women. He cut fence posts in a forest + on a large farm in Indiana, worked in the fields, and in one place was a + section hand on the railroad. + </p> + <p> + On a farm in Indiana, some forty miles east of Indianapolis, he was for + the first time powerfully touched by the presence of a woman. She was the + daughter of the farmer who was Hugh's employer, and was an alert, handsome + woman of twenty-four who had been a school teacher but had given up the + work because she was about to be married. Hugh thought the man who was to + marry her the most fortunate being in the world. He lived in Indianapolis + and came by train to spend the week-ends at the farm. The woman prepared + for his coming by putting on a white dress and fastening a rose in her + hair. The two people walked about in an orchard beside the house or went + for a ride along the country roads. The young man, who, Hugh had been + told, worked in a bank, wore stiff white collars, a black suit and a black + derby hat. + </p> + <p> + On the farm Hugh worked in the field with the farmer and ate at table with + his family, but did not get acquainted with them. On Sunday when the young + man came he took the day off and went into a nearby town. The courtship + became a matter very close to him and he lived through the excitement of + the weekly visits as though he had been one of the principals. The + daughter of the house, sensing the fact that the silent farm hand was + stirred by her presence, became interested in him. Sometimes in the + evening as he sat on a little porch before the house, she came to join + him, and sat looking at him with a peculiarly detached and interested air. + She tried to make talk, but Hugh answered all her advances so briefly and + with such a half frightened manner that she gave up the attempt. One + Saturday evening when her sweetheart had come she took him for a ride in + the family carriage, and Hugh concealed himself in the hay loft of the + barn to wait for their return. + </p> + <p> + Hugh had never seen or heard a man express in any way his affection for a + woman. It seemed to him a terrifically heroic thing to do and he hoped by + concealing himself in the barn to see it done. It was a bright moonlight + night and he waited until nearly eleven o'clock before the lovers + returned. In the hayloft there was an opening high up under the roof. + Because of his great height he could reach and pull himself up, and when + he had done so, found a footing on one of the beams that formed the + framework of the barn. The lovers stood unhitching the horse in the + barnyard below. When the city man had led the horse into the stable he + hurried quickly out again and went with the farmer's daughter along a path + toward the house. The two people laughed and pulled at each other like + children. They grew silent and when they had come near the house, stopped + by a tree to embrace. Hugh saw the man take the woman into his arms and + hold her tightly against his body. He was so excited that he nearly fell + off the beam. His imagination was inflamed and he tried to picture himself + in the position of the young city man. His fingers gripped the boards to + which he clung and his body trembled. The two figures standing in the dim + light by the tree became one. For a long time they clung tightly to each + other and then drew apart. They went into the house and Hugh climbed down + from his place on the beam and lay in the hay. His body shook as with a + chill and he was half ill of jealousy, anger, and an overpowering sense of + defeat. It did not seem to him at the moment that it was worth while for + him to go further east or to try to find a place where he would be able to + mingle freely with men and women, or where such a wonderful thing as had + happened to the man in the barnyard below might happen to him. + </p> + <p> + Hugh spent the night in the hayloft and at daylight crept out and went + into a nearby town. He returned to the farmhouse late on Monday when he + was sure the city man had gone away. In spite of the protest of the farmer + he packed his clothes at once and declared his intention of leaving. He + did not wait for the evening meal but hurried out of the house. When he + got into the road and had started to walk away, he looked back and saw the + daughter of the house standing at an open door and looking at him. Shame + for what he had done on the night before swept over him. For a moment he + stared at the woman who, with an intense, interested air stared back at + him, and then putting down his head he hurried away. The woman watched him + out of sight and later, when her father stormed about the house, blaming + Hugh for leaving so suddenly and declaring the tall Missourian was no + doubt a drunkard who wanted to go off on a drunk, she had nothing to say. + In her own heart she knew what was the matter with her father's farm hand + and was sorry he had gone before she had more completely exercised her + power over him. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + None of the towns Hugh visited during his three years of wandering + approached realization of the sort of life Sarah Shepard had talked to him + about. They were all very much alike. There was a main street with a dozen + stores on each side, a blacksmith shop, and perhaps an elevator for the + storage of grain. All day the town was deserted, but in the evening the + citizens gathered on Main Street. On the sidewalks before the stores young + farm hands and clerks sat on store boxes or on the curbing. They did not + pay any attention to Hugh who, when he went to stand near them, remained + silent and kept himself in the background. The farm hands talked of their + work and boasted of the number of bushels of corn they could pick in a + day, or of their skill in plowing. The clerks were intent upon playing + practical jokes which pleased the farm hands immensely. While one of them + talked loudly of his skill in his work a clerk crept out at the door of + one of the stores and approached him. He held a pin in his hand and with + it jabbed the talker in the back. The crowd yelled and shouted with + delight. If the victim became angry a quarrel started, but this did not + often happen. Other men came to join the party and the joke was told to + them. “Well, you should have seen the look on his face. I thought I would + die,” one of the bystanders declared. + </p> + <p> + Hugh got a job with a carpenter who specialized in the building of barns + and stayed with him all through one fall. Later he went to work as a + section hand on a railroad. Nothing happened to him. He was like one + compelled to walk through life with a bandage over his eyes. On all sides + of him, in the towns and on the farms, an undercurrent of life went on + that did not touch him. In even the smallest of the towns, inhabited only + by farm laborers, a quaint interesting civilization was being developed. + Men worked hard but were much in the open air and had time to think. Their + minds reached out toward the solution of the mystery of existence. The + schoolmaster and the country lawyer read Tom Paine's “Age of Reason” and + Bellamy's “Looking Backward.” They discussed these books with their + fellows. There was a feeling, ill expressed, that America had something + real and spiritual to offer to the rest of the world. Workmen talked to + each other of the new tricks of their trades, and after hours of + discussion of some new way to cultivate corn, shape a horseshoe or build a + barn, spoke of God and his intent concerning man. Long drawn out + discussions of religious beliefs and the political destiny of America were + carried on. + </p> + <p> + And across the background of these discussions ran tales of action in a + sphere outside the little world in which the inhabitants of the towns + lived. Men who had been in the Civil War and who had climbed fighting over + hills and in the terror of defeat had swum wide rivers, told the tale of + their adventures. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, after his day of work in the field or on the railroad with + the section hands, Hugh did not know what to do with himself. That he did + not go to bed immediately after the evening meal was due to the fact that + he looked upon his tendency to sleep and to dream as an enemy to his + development; and a peculiarly persistent determination to make something + alive and worth while out of himself—the result of the five years of + constant talking on the subject by the New England woman—had taken + possession of him. “I'll find the right place and the right people and + then I'll begin,” he continually said to himself. + </p> + <p> + And then, worn out with weariness and loneliness, he went to bed in one of + the little hotels or boarding houses where he lived during those years, + and his dreams returned. The dream that had come that night as he lay on + the cliff above the Mississippi River near the town of Burlington, came + back time after time. He sat upright in bed in the darkness of his room + and after he had driven the cloudy, vague sensation out of his brain, was + afraid to go to sleep again. He did not want to disturb the people of the + house and so got up and dressed and without putting on his shoes walked up + and down in the room. Sometimes the room he occupied had a low ceiling and + he was compelled to stoop. He crept out of the house carrying his shoes in + his hand and sat down on the sidewalk to put them on. In all the towns he + visited, people saw him walking alone through the streets late at night or + in the early hours of the morning. Whispers concerning the matter ran + about. The story of what was spoken of as his queerness came to the men + with whom he worked, and they found themselves unable to talk freely and + naturally in his presence. At the noon hour when the men ate the lunch + they had carried to work, when the boss was gone and it was customary + among the workers to talk of their own affairs, they went off by + themselves. Hugh followed them about. They went to sit under a tree, and + when Hugh came to stand nearby, they became silent or the more vulgar and + shallow among them began to show off. While he worked with a half dozen + other men as a section hand on the railroad, two men did all the talking. + Whenever the boss went away an old man who had a reputation as a wit told + stories concerning his relations with women. A young man with red hair + took the cue from him. The two men talked loudly and kept looking at Hugh. + The younger of the two wits turned to another workman who had a weak, + timid face. “Well, you,” he cried, “what about your old woman? What about + her? Who is the father of your son? Do you dare tell?” + </p> + <p> + In the towns Hugh walked about in the evening and tried always to keep his + mind fixed on definite things. He felt that humanity was for some unknown + reason drawing itself away from him, and his mind turned back to the + figure of Sarah Shepard. He remembered that she had never been without + things to do. She scrubbed her kitchen floor and prepared food for + cooking; she washed, ironed, kneaded dough for bread, and mended clothes. + In the evening, when she made the boy read to her out of one of the school + books or do sums on a slate, she kept her hands busy knitting socks for + him or for her husband. Except when something had crossed her so that she + scolded and her face grew red, she was always cheerful. When the boy had + nothing to do at the station and had been sent by the station master to + work about the house, to draw water from the cistern for a family washing, + or pull weeds in the garden, he heard the woman singing as she went about + the doing of her innumerable petty tasks. Hugh decided that he also must + do small tasks, fix his mind upon definite things. In the town where he + was employed as a section hand, the cloud dream in which the world became + a whirling, agitated center of disaster came to him almost every night. + Winter came on and he walked through the streets at night in the darkness + and through the deep snow. He was almost frozen; but as the whole lower + part of his body was habitually cold he did not much mind the added + discomfort, and so great was the reserve of strength in his big frame that + the loss of sleep did not affect his ability to labor all day without + effort. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went into one of the residence streets of the town and counted the + pickets in the fences before the houses. He returned to the hotel and made + a calculation as to the number of pickets in all the fences in town. Then + he got a rule at the hardware store and carefully measured the pickets. He + tried to estimate the number of pickets that could be cut out of certain + sized trees and that gave his mind another opening. He counted the number + of trees in every street in town. He learned to tell at a glance and with + relative accuracy how much lumber could be cut out of a tree. He built + imaginary houses with lumber cut from the trees that lined the streets. He + even tried to figure out a way to utilize the small limbs cut from the + tops of the trees, and one Sunday went into the wood back of the town and + cut a great armful of twigs, which he carried to his room and later with + great patience wove into the form of a basket. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK TWO + </h2> + <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 + </h2> + <p> + Bidwell, Ohio, was an old town as the ages of towns go in the Central + West, long before Hugh McVey, in his search for a place where he could + penetrate the wall that shut him off from humanity, went there to live and + to try to work out his problem. It is a busy manufacturing town now and + has a population of nearly a hundred thousand people; but the time for the + telling of the story of its sudden and surprising growth has not yet come. + </p> + <p> + From the beginning Bidwell has been a prosperous place. The town lies in + the valley of a deep, rapid-flowing river that spreads out just above the + town, becomes for the time wide and shallow, and goes singing swiftly + along over stones. South of the town the river not only spreads out, but + the hills recede. A wide flat valley stretches away to the north. In the + days before the factories came the land immediately about town was cut up + into small farms devoted to fruit and berry raising, and beyond the area + of small farms lay larger tracts that were immensely productive and that + raised huge crops of wheat, corn, and cabbage. + </p> + <p> + When Hugh was a boy sleeping away his days in the grass beside his + father's fishing shack by the Mississippi River, Bidwell had already + emerged out of the hardships of pioneer days. On the farms that lay in the + wide valley to the north the timber had been cut away and the stumps had + all been rooted out of the ground by a generation of men that had passed. + The soil was easy to cultivate and had lost little of its virgin + fertility. Two railroads, the Lake Shore and Michigan Central—later + a part of the great New York Central System—and a less important + coal-carrying road, called the Wheeling and Lake Erie, ran through the + town. Twenty-five hundred people lived then in Bidwell. They were for the + most part descendants of the pioneers who had come into the country by + boat through the Great Lakes or by wagon roads over the mountains from the + States of New York and Pennsylvania. + </p> + <p> + The town stood on a sloping incline running up from the river, and the + Lake Shore and Michigan Central Railroad had its station on the river bank + at the foot of Main Street. The Wheeling Station was a mile away to the + north. It was to be reached by going over a bridge and along a piked road + that even then had begun to take on the semblance of a street. A dozen + houses had been built facing Turner's Pike and between these were berry + fields and an occasional orchard planted to cherry, peach or apple trees. + A hard path went down to the distant station beside the road, and in the + evening this path, wandering along under the branches of the fruit trees + that extended out over the farm fences, was a favorite walking place for + lovers. + </p> + <p> + The small farms lying close about the town of Bidwell raised berries that + brought top prices in the two cities, Cleveland and Pittsburgh, reached by + its two railroads, and all of the people of the town who were not engaged + in one of the trades—in shoe making, carpentry, horse shoeing, house + painting or the like—or who did not belong to the small merchant and + professional classes, worked in summer on the land. On summer mornings, + men, women and children went into the fields. In the early spring when + planting went on and all through late May, June and early July when + berries and fruit began to ripen, every one was rushed with work and the + streets of the town were deserted. Every one went to the fields. Great hay + wagons loaded with children, laughing girls, and sedate women set out from + Main Street at dawn. Beside them walked tall boys, who pelted the girls + with green apples and cherries from the trees along the road, and men who + went along behind smoking their morning pipes and talking of the + prevailing prices of the products of their fields. In the town after they + had gone a Sabbath quiet prevailed. The merchants and clerks loitered in + the shade of the awnings before the doors of the stores, and only their + wives and the wives of the two or three rich men in town came to buy and + to disturb their discussions of horse racing, politics and religion. + </p> + <p> + In the evening when the wagons came home, Bidwell awoke. The tired berry + pickers walked home from the fields in the dust of the roads swinging + their dinner pails. The wagons creaked at their heels, piled high with + boxes of berries ready for shipment. In the stores after the evening meal + crowds gathered. Old men lit their pipes and sat gossiping along the + curbing at the edge of the sidewalks on Main Street; women with baskets on + their arms did the marketing for the next day's living; the young men put + on stiff white collars and their Sunday clothes, and girls, who all day + had been crawling over the fields between the rows of berries or pushing + their way among the tangled masses of raspberry bushes, put on white + dresses and walked up and down before the men. Friendships begun between + boys and girls in the fields ripened into love. Couples walked along + residence streets under the trees and talked with subdued voices. They + became silent and embarrassed. The bolder ones kissed. The end of the + berry picking season brought each year a new outbreak of marriages to the + town of Bidwell. + </p> + <p> + In all the towns of mid-western America it was a time of waiting. The + country having been cleared and the Indians driven away into a vast + distant place spoken of vaguely as the West, the Civil War having been + fought and won, and there being no great national problems that touched + closely their lives, the minds of men were turned in upon themselves. The + soul and its destiny was spoken of openly on the streets. Robert Ingersoll + came to Bidwell to speak in Terry's Hall, and after he had gone the + question of the divinity of Christ for months occupied the minds of the + citizens. The ministers preached sermons on the subject and in the evening + it was talked about in the stores. Every one had something to say. Even + Charley Mook, who dug ditches, who stuttered so that not a half dozen + people in town could understand him, expressed his opinion. + </p> + <p> + In all the great Mississippi Valley each town came to have a character of + its own, and the people who lived in the towns were to each other like + members of a great family. The individual idiosyncrasies of each member of + the great family stood forth. A kind of invisible roof beneath which every + one lived spread itself over each town. Beneath the roof boys and girls + were born, grew up, quarreled, fought, and formed friendships with their + fellows, were introduced into the mysteries of love, married, and became + the fathers and mothers of children, grew old, sickened, and died. + </p> + <p> + Within the invisible circle and under the great roof every one knew his + neighbor and was known to him. Strangers did not come and go swiftly and + mysteriously and there was no constant and confusing roar of machinery and + of new projects afoot. For the moment mankind seemed about to take time to + try to understand itself. + </p> + <p> + In Bidwell there was a man named Peter White who was a tailor and worked + hard at his trade, but who once or twice a year got drunk and beat his + wife. He was arrested each time and had to pay a fine, but there was a + general understanding of the impulse that led to the beating. Most of the + women knowing the wife sympathized with Peter. “She is a noisy thing and + her jaw is never still,” the wife of Henry Teeters, the grocer, said to + her husband. “If he gets drunk it's only to forget he's married to her. + Then he goes home to sleep it off and she begins jawing at him. He stands + it as long as he can. It takes a fist to shut up that woman. If he strikes + her it's the only thing he can do.” + </p> + <p> + Allie Mulberry the half-wit was one of the highlights of life in the town. + He lived with his mother in a tumble-down house at the edge of town on + Medina Road. Beside being a half-wit he had something the matter with his + legs. They were trembling and weak and he could only move them with great + difficulty. On summer afternoons when the streets were deserted, he + hobbled along Main Street with his lower jaw hanging down. Allie carried a + large club, partly for the support of his weak legs and partly to scare + off dogs and mischievous boys. He liked to sit in the shade with his back + against a building and whittle, and he liked to be near people and have + his talent as a whittler appreciated. He made fans out of pieces of pine, + long chains of wooden beads, and he once achieved a singular mechanical + triumph that won him wide renown. He made a ship that would float in a + beer bottle half filled with water and laid on its side. The ship had + sails and three tiny wooden sailors who stood at attention with their + hands to their caps in salute. After it was constructed and put into the + bottle it was too large to be taken out through the neck. How Allie got it + in no one ever knew. The clerks and merchants who crowded about to watch + him at work discussed the matter for days. It became a never-ending wonder + among them. In the evening they spoke of the matter to the berry pickers + who came into the stores, and in the eyes of the people of Bidwell Allie + Mulberry became a hero. The bottle, half-filled with water and securely + corked, was laid on a cushion in the window of Hunter's Jewelry Store. As + it floated about on its own little ocean crowds gathered to look at it. + Over the bottle was a sign with the words—“Carved by Allie Mulberry + of Bidwell”—prominently displayed. Below these words a query had + been printed. “How Did He Get It Into The Bottle?” was the question asked. + The bottle stayed in the window for months and merchants took the + traveling men who visited them, to see it. Then they escorted their guests + to where Allie, with his back against the wall of a building and his club + beside him, was at work on some new creation of the whittler's art. The + travelers were impressed and told the tale abroad. Allie's fame spread to + other towns. “He has a good brain,” the citizen of Bidwell said, shaking + his head. “He don't appear to know very much, but look what he does! He + must be carrying all sorts of notions around inside of his head.” + </p> + <p> + Jane Orange, widow of a lawyer, and with the single exception of Thomas + Butterworth, a farmer who owned over a thousand acres of land and lived + with his daughter on a farm a mile south of town, the richest person in + town, was known to every one in Bidwell, but was not liked. She was called + stingy and it was said that she and her husband had cheated every one with + whom they had dealings in order to get their start in life. The town ached + for the privilege of doing what they called “bringing them down a peg.” + Jane's husband had once been the Bidwell town attorney and later had + charge of the settlement of an estate belonging to Ed Lucas, a farmer who + died leaving two hundred acres of land and two daughters. The farmer's + daughters, every one said, “came out at the small end of the horn,” and + John Orange began to grow rich. It was said he was worth fifty thousand + dollars. All during the latter part of his life the lawyer went to the + city of Cleveland on business every week, and when he was at home and even + in the hottest weather he went about dressed in a long black coat. When + she went to the stores to buy supplies for her house Jane Orange was + watched closely by the merchants. She was suspected of carrying away small + articles that could be slipped into the pockets of her dress. One + afternoon in Toddmore's grocery, when she thought no one was looking, she + took a half dozen eggs out of a basket and looking quickly around to be + sure she was unobserved, put them into her dress pocket. Harry Toddmore, + the grocer's son who had seen the theft, said nothing, but went unobserved + out at the back door. He got three or four clerks from other stores and + they waited for Jane Orange at a corner. When she came along they hurried + out and Harry Toddmore fell against her. Throwing out his hand he struck + the pocket containing the eggs a quick, sharp blow. Jane Orange turned and + hurried away toward home, but as she half ran through Main Street clerks + and merchants came out of the stores, and from the assembled crowd a voice + called attention to the fact that the contents of the stolen eggs having + run down the inside of her dress and over her stockings began to make a + stream on the sidewalk. A pack of town dogs excited by the shouts of the + crowd ran at her heels, barking and sniffing at the yellow stream that + dripped from her shoes. + </p> + <p> + An old man with a long white beard came to Bidwell to live. He had been a + carpet-bag Governor of a southern state in the reconstruction days after + the Civil War and had made money. He bought a house on Turner's Pike close + beside the river and spent his days puttering about in a small garden. In + the evening he came across the bridge into Main Street and went to loaf in + Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked with great frankness and candor of + his life in the South during the terrible time when the country was trying + to emerge from the black gloom of defeat, and brought to the Bidwell men a + new point of view on their old enemies, the “Rebs.” + </p> + <p> + The old man—the name by which he had introduced himself in Bidwell + was that of Judge Horace Hanby—believed in the manliness and honesty + of purpose of the men he had for a time governed and who had fought a long + grim war with the North, with the New Englanders and sons of New + Englanders from the West and Northwest. “They're all right,” he said with + a grin. “I cheated them and made some money, but I liked them. Once a + crowd of them came to my house and threatened to kill me and I told them + that I did not blame them very much, so they let me alone.” The judge, an + ex-politician from the city of New York who had been involved in some + affair that made it uncomfortable for him to return to live in that city, + grew prophetic and philosophic after he came to live in Bidwell. In spite + of the doubt every one felt concerning his past, he was something of a + scholar and a reader of books, and won respect by his apparent wisdom. + “Well, there's going to be a new war here,” he said. “It won't be like the + Civil War, just shooting off guns and killing peoples' bodies. At first + it's going to be a war between individuals to see to what class a man must + belong; then it is going to be a long, silent war between classes, between + those who have and those who can't get. It'll be the worst war of all.” + </p> + <p> + The talk of Judge Hanby, carried along and elaborated almost every evening + before a silent, attentive group in the drug store, began to have an + influence on the minds of Bidwell young men. At his suggestion several of + the town boys, Cliff Bacon, Albert Small, Ed Prawl, and two or three + others, began to save money for the purpose of going east to college. Also + at his suggestion Tom Butterworth the rich farmer sent his daughter away + to school. The old man made many prophecies concerning what would happen + in America. “I tell you, the country isn't going to stay as it is,” he + said earnestly. “In eastern towns the change has already come. Factories + are being built and every one is going to work in the factories. It takes + an old man like me to see how that changes their lives. Some of the men + stand at one bench and do one thing not only for hours but for days and + years. There are signs hung up saying they mustn't talk. Some of them make + more money than they did before the factories came, but I tell you it's + like being in prison. What would you say if I told you all America, all + you fellows who talk so big about freedom, are going to be put in a + prison, eh? + </p> + <p> + “And there's something else. In New York there are already a dozen men who + are worth a million dollars. Yes, sir, I tell you it's true, a million + dollars. What do you think of that, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Judge Hanby grew excited and, inspired by the absorbed attention of his + audience, talked of the sweep of events. In England, he explained, the + cities were constantly growing larger, and already almost every one either + worked in a factory or owned stock in a factory. “In New England it is + getting the same way fast,” he explained. “The same thing'll happen here. + Farming'll be done with tools. Almost everything now done by hand'll be + done by machinery. Some'll grow rich and some poor. The thing is to get + educated, yes, sir, that's the thing, to get ready for what's coming. It's + the only way. The younger generation has got to be sharper and shrewder.” + </p> + <p> + The words of the old man, who had been in many places and had seen men and + cities, were repeated in the streets of Bidwell. The blacksmith and the + wheelwright repeated his words when they stopped to exchange news of their + affairs before the post-office. Ben Peeler, the carpenter, who had been + saving money to buy a house and a small farm to which he could retire when + he became too old to climb about on the framework of buildings, used the + money instead to send his son to Cleveland to a new technical school. + Steve Hunter, the son of Abraham Hunter the Bidwell jeweler, declared that + he was going to get up with the times, and when he went into a factory, + would go into the office, not into the shop. He went to Buffalo, New York, + to attend a business college. + </p> + <p> + The air of Bidwell began to stir with talk of new times. The evil things + said of the new life coming were soon forgotten. The youth and optimistic + spirit of the country led it to take hold of the hand of the giant, + industrialism, and lead him laughing into the land. The cry, “get on in + the world,” that ran all over America at that period and that still echoes + in the pages of American newspapers and magazines, rang in the streets of + Bidwell. + </p> + <p> + In the harness shop belonging to Joseph Wainsworth it one day struck a new + note. The harness maker was a tradesman of the old school and was vastly + independent. He had learned his trade after five years' service as + apprentice, and had spent an additional five years in going from place to + place as a journeyman workman, and felt that he knew his business. Also he + owned his shop and his home and had twelve hundred dollars in the bank. At + noon one day when he was alone in the shop, Tom Butterworth came in and + told him he had ordered four sets of farm work harness from a factory in + Philadelphia. “I came in to ask if you'll repair them if they get out of + order,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Joe Wainsworth began to fumble with the tools on his bench. Then he turned + to look the farmer in the eye and to do what he later spoke of to his + cronies as “laying down the law.” “When the cheap things begin to go to + pieces take them somewhere else to have them repaired,” he said sharply. + He grew furiously angry. “Take the damn things to Philadelphia where you + got 'em,” he shouted at the back of the farmer who had turned to go out of + the shop. + </p> + <p> + Joe Wainsworth was upset and thought about the incident all the afternoon. + When farmer-customers came in and stood about to talk of their affairs he + had nothing to say. He was a talkative man and his apprentice, Will + Sellinger, son of the Bidwell house painter, was puzzled by his silence. + </p> + <p> + When the boy and the man were alone in the shop, it was Joe Wainsworth's + custom to talk of his days as a journeyman workman when he had gone from + place to place working at his trade. If a trace were being stitched or a + bridle fashioned, he told how the thing was done at a shop where he had + worked in the city of Boston and in another shop at Providence, Rhode + Island. Getting a piece of paper he made drawings illustrating the cuts of + leather that were made in the other places and the methods of stitching. + He claimed to have worked out his own method for doing things, and that + his method was better than anything he had seen in all his travels. To the + men who came into the shop to loaf during winter afternoons he presented a + smiling front and talked of their affairs, of the price of cabbage in + Cleveland or the effect of a cold snap on the winter wheat, but alone with + the boy, he talked only of harness making. “I don't say anything about it. + What's the good bragging? Just the same, I could learn something to all + the harness makers I've ever seen, and I've seen the best of them,” he + declared emphatically. + </p> + <p> + During the afternoon, after he had heard of the four factory-made work + harnesses brought into what he had always thought of as a trade that + belonged to him by the rights of a first-class workman, Joe remained + silent for two or three hours. He thought of the words of old Judge Hanby + and the constant talk of the new times now coming. Turning suddenly to his + apprentice, who was puzzled by his long silence and who knew nothing of + the incident that had disturbed his employer, he broke forth into words. + He was defiant and expressed his defiance. “Well, then, let 'em go to + Philadelphia, let 'em go any damn place they please,” he growled, and + then, as though his own words had re-established his self-respect, he + straightened his shoulders and glared at the puzzled and alarmed boy. “I + know my trade and do not have to bow down to any man,” he declared. He + expressed the old tradesman's faith in his craft and the rights it gave + the craftsman. “Learn your trade. Don't listen to talk,” he said + earnestly. “The man who knows his trade is a man. He can tell every one to + go to the devil.” + </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 + </h2> + <p> + Hugh McVey was twenty-three years old when he went to live in Bidwell. The + position of telegraph operator at the Wheeling station a mile north of + town became vacant and, through an accidental encounter with a former + resident of a neighboring town, he got the place. + </p> + <p> + The Missourian had been at work during the winter in a sawmill in the + country near a northern Indiana town. During the evenings he wandered on + country roads and in the town streets, but he did not talk to any one. As + had happened to him in other places, he had the reputation of being queer. + His clothes were worn threadbare and, although he had money in his + pockets, he did not buy new ones. In the evening when he went through the + town streets and saw the smartly dressed clerks standing before the + stores, he looked at his own shabby person and was ashamed to enter. In + his boyhood Sarah Shepard had always attended to the buying of his + clothes, and he made up his mind that he would go to the place in Michigan + to which she and her husband had retired, and pay her a visit. He wanted + Sarah Shepard to buy him a new outfit of clothes, but wanted also to talk + with her. + </p> + <p> + Out of the three years of going from place to place and working with other + men as a laborer, Hugh had got no big impulse that he felt would mark the + road his life should take; but the study of mathematical problems, taken + up to relieve his loneliness and to cure his inclination to dreams, was + beginning to have an effect on his character. He thought that if he saw + Sarah Shepard again he could talk to her and through her get into the way + of talking to others. In the sawmill where he worked he answered the + occasional remarks made to him by his fellow workers in a slow, hesitating + drawl, and his body was still awkward and his gait shambling, but he did + his work more quickly and accurately. In the presence of his foster-mother + and garbed in new clothes, he believed he could now talk to her in a way + that had been impossible during his youth. She would see the change in his + character and would be encouraged about him. They would get on to a new + basis and he would feel respect for himself in another. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went to the railroad station to make inquiry regarding the fare to + the Michigan town and there had the adventure that upset his plans. As he + stood at the window of the ticket office, the ticket seller, who was also + the telegraph operator, tried to engage him in conversation. When he had + given the information asked, he followed Hugh out of the building and into + the darkness of a country railroad station at night, and the two men + stopped and stood together beside an empty baggage truck. The ticket agent + spoke of the loneliness of life in the town and said he wished he could go + back to his own place and be again with his own people. “It may not be any + better in my own town, but I know everybody there,” he said. He was + curious concerning Hugh as were all the people of the Indiana town, and + hoped to get him into talk in order that he might find out why he walked + alone at night, why he sometimes worked all evening over books and figures + in his room at the country hotel, and why he had so little to say to his + fellows. Hoping to fathom Hugh's silence he abused the town in which they + both lived. “Well,” he began, “I guess I understand how you feel. You want + to get out of this place.” He explained his own predicament in life. “I + got married,” he said. “Already I have three children. Out here a man can + make more money railroading than he can in my state, and living is pretty + cheap. Just to-day I had an offer of a job in a good town near my own + place in Ohio, but I can't take it. The job only pays forty a month. The + town's all right, one of the best in the northern part of the State, but + you see the job's no good. Lord, I wish I could go. I'd like to live again + among people such as live in that part of the country.” + </p> + <p> + The railroad man and Hugh walked along the street that ran from the + station up into the main street of the town. Wanting to meet the advances + that had been made by his companion and not knowing how to go about it, + Hugh adopted the method he had heard his fellow laborers use with one + another. “Well,” he said slowly, “come have a drink.” + </p> + <p> + The two men went into a saloon and stood by the bar. Hugh made a + tremendous effort to overcome his embarrassment. As he and the railroad + man drank foaming glasses of beer he explained that he also had once been + a railroad man and knew telegraphy, but that for several years he had been + doing other work. His companion looked at his shabby clothes and nodded + his head. He made a motion with his head to indicate that he wanted Hugh + to come with him outside into the darkness. “Well, well,” he exclaimed, + when they had again got outside and had started along the street toward + the station. “I understand now. They've all been wondering about you and + I've heard lots of talk. I won't say anything, but I'm going to do + something for you.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh went to the station with his new-found friend and sat down in the + lighted office. The railroad man got out a sheet of paper and began to + write a letter. “I'm going to get you that job,” he said. “I'm writing the + letter now and I'll get it off on the midnight train. You've got to get on + your feet. I was a boozer myself, but I cut it all out. A glass of beer + now and then, that's my limit.” + </p> + <p> + He began to talk of the town in Ohio where he proposed to get Hugh the job + that would set him up in the world and save him from the habit of + drinking, and described it as an earthly paradise in which lived bright, + clear-thinking men and beautiful women. Hugh was reminded sharply of the + talk he had heard from the lips of Sarah Shepard, when in his youth she + spent long evenings telling him of the wonder of her own Michigan and New + England towns and people, and contrasted the life lived there with that + lived by the people of his own place. + </p> + <p> + Hugh decided not to try to explain away the mistake made by his new + acquaintance, and to accept the offer of assistance in getting the + appointment as telegraph operator. + </p> + <p> + The two men walked out of the station and stood again in the darkness. The + railroad man felt like one who has been given the privilege of plucking a + human soul out of the darkness of despair. He was full of words that + poured from his lips and he assumed a knowledge of Hugh and his character + entirely unwarranted by the circumstances. “Well,” he exclaimed heartily, + “you see I've given you a send-off. I have told them you're a good man and + a good operator, but that you will take the place with its small salary + because you've been sick and just now can't work very hard.” The excited + man followed Hugh along the street. It was late and the store lights had + been put out. From one of the town's two saloons that lay in their way + arose a clatter of voices. The old boyhood dream of finding a place and a + people among whom he could, by sitting still and inhaling the air breathed + by others, come into a warm closeness with life, came back to Hugh. He + stopped before the saloon to listen to the voices within, but the railroad + man plucked at his coat sleeve and protested. “Now, now, you're going to + cut it out, eh?” he asked anxiously and then hurriedly explained his + anxiety. “Of course I know what's the matter with you. Didn't I tell you + I've been there myself? You've been working around. I know why that is. + You don't have to tell me. If there wasn't something the matter with him, + no man who knows telegraphy would work in a sawmill. + </p> + <p> + “Well, there's no good talking about it,” he added thoughtfully. “I've + given you a send-off. You're going to cut it out, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Hugh tried to protest and to explain that he was not addicted to the habit + of drinking, but the Ohio man would not listen. “It's all right,” he said + again, and then they came to the hotel where Hugh lived and he turned to + go back to the station and wait for the midnight train that would carry + the letter away and that would, he felt, carry also his demand that a + fellow-human, who had slipped from the modern path of work and progress + should be given a new chance. He felt magnanimous and wonderfully + gracious. “It's all right, my boy,” he said heartily. “No use talking to + me. To-night when you came to the station to ask the fare to that hole of + a place in Michigan I saw you were embarrassed. 'What's the matter with + that fellow?' I said to myself. I got to thinking. Then I came up town + with you and right away you bought me a drink. I wouldn't have thought + anything about that if I hadn't been there myself. You'll get on your + feet. Bidwell, Ohio, is full of good men. You get in with them and they'll + help you and stick by you. You'll like those people. They've got get-up to + them. The place you'll work at there is far out of town. It's away out + about a mile at a little kind of outside-like place called Pickleville. + There used to be a saloon there and a factory for putting up cucumber + pickles, but they've both gone now. You won't be tempted to slip in that + place. You'll have a chance to get on your feet. I'm glad I thought of + sending you there.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The Wheeling and Lake Erie ran along a little wooded depression that cut + across the wide expanse of open farm lands north of the town of Bidwell. + It brought coal from the hill country of West Virginia and southeastern + Ohio to ports on Lake Erie, and did not pay much attention to the carrying + of passengers. In the morning a train consisting of a combined express and + baggage car and two passenger coaches went north and west toward the lake, + and in the evening the same train returned, bound southeast into the + Hills, The Bidwell station of the road was, in an odd way, detached from + the town's life. The invisible roof under which the life of the town and + the surrounding country was lived did not cover it. As the Indiana + railroad man had told Hugh, the station itself stood on a spot known + locally as Pickleville. Back of the station there was a small building for + the storage of freight and near at hand four or five houses facing + Turner's Pike. The pickle factory, now deserted and with its windows gone, + stood across the tracks from the station and beside a small stream that + ran under a bridge and across country through a grove of trees to the + river. On hot summer days a sour, pungent smell arose from the old + factory, and at night its presence lent a ghostly flavor to the tiny + corner of the world in which lived perhaps a dozen people. + </p> + <p> + All day and at night an intense persistent silence lay over Pickleville, + while in Bidwell a mile away the stir of new life began. In the evenings + and on rainy afternoons when men could not work in the fields, old Judge + Hanby went along Turner's Pike and across the wagon bridge into Bidwell + and sat in a chair at the back of Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked. + Men came in to listen to him and went out. New talk ran through the town. + A new force that was being born into American life and into life + everywhere all over the world was feeding on the old dying individualistic + life. The new force stirred and aroused the people. It met a need that was + universal. It was meant to seal men together, to wipe out national lines, + to walk under seas and fly through the air, to change the entire face of + the world in which men lived. Already the giant that was to be king in the + place of old kings was calling his servants and his armies to serve him. + He used the methods of old kings and promised his followers booty and + gain. Everywhere he went unchallenged, surveying the land, raising a new + class of men to positions of power. Railroads had already been pushed out + across the plains; great coal fields from which was to be taken food to + warm the blood in the body of the giant were being opened up; iron fields + were being discovered; the roar and clatter of the breathing of the + terrible new thing, half hideous, half beautiful in its possibilities, + that was for so long to drown the voices and confuse the thinking of men, + was heard not only in the towns but even in lonely farm houses, where its + willing servants, the newspapers and magazines, had begun to circulate in + ever increasing numbers. At the town of Gibsonville, near Bidwell, Ohio, + and at Lima and Finley, Ohio, oil and gas fields were discovered. At + Cleveland, Ohio, a precise, definite-minded man named Rockefeller bought + and sold oil. From the first he served the new thing well and he soon + found others to serve with him. The Morgans, Fricks, Goulds, Carnegies, + Vanderbilts, servants of the new king, princes of the new faith, merchants + all, a new kind of rulers of men, defied the world-old law of class that + puts the merchant below the craftsman, and added to the confusion of men + by taking on the air of creators. They were merchants glorified and dealt + in giant things, in the lives of men and in mines, forests, oil and gas + fields, factories, and railroads. + </p> + <p> + And all over the country, in the towns, the farm houses, and the growing + cities of the new country, people stirred and awakened. Thought and poetry + died or passed as a heritage to feeble fawning men who also became + servants of the new order. Serious young men in Bidwell and in other + American towns, whose fathers had walked together on moonlight nights + along Turner's Pike to talk of God, went away to technical schools. Their + fathers had walked and talked and thoughts had grown up in them. The + impulse had reached back to their father's fathers on moonlit roads of + England, Germany, Ireland, France, and Italy, and back of these to the + moonlit hills of Judea where shepherds talked and serious young men, John + and Matthew and Jesus, caught the drift of the talk and made poetry of it; + but the serious-minded sons of these men in the new land were swept away + from thinking and dreaming. From all sides the voice of the new age that + was to do definite things shouted at them. Eagerly they took up the cry + and ran with it. Millions of voices arose. The clamor became terrible, and + confused the minds of all men. In making way for the newer, broader + brotherhood into which men are some day to emerge, in extending the + invisible roofs of the towns and cities to cover the world, men cut and + crushed their way through the bodies of men. + </p> + <p> + And while the voices became louder and more excited and the new giant + walked about making a preliminary survey of the land, Hugh spent his days + at the quiet, sleepy railroad station at Pickleville and tried to adjust + his mind to the realization of the fact that he was not to be accepted as + fellow by the citizens of the new place to which he had come. During the + day he sat in the tiny telegraph office or, pulling an express truck to + the open window near his telegraph instrument, lay on his back with a + sheet of paper propped on his bony knees and did sums. Farmers driving + past on Turner's Pike saw him there and talked of him in the stores in + town. “He's a queer silent fellow,” they said. “What do you suppose he's + up to?” + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked in the streets of Bidwell at night as he had walked in the + streets of towns in Indiana and Illinois. He approached groups of men + loafing on a street corner and then went hurriedly past them. On quiet + streets as he went along under the trees, he saw women sitting in the + lamplight in the houses and hungered to have a house and a woman of his + own. One afternoon a woman school teacher came to the station to make + inquiry regarding the fare to a town in West Virginia. As the station + agent was not about Hugh gave her the information she sought and she + lingered for a few moments to talk with him. He answered the questions she + asked with monosyllables and she soon went away, but he was delighted and + looked upon the incident as an adventure. At night he dreamed of the + school teacher and when he awoke, pretended she was with him in his + bedroom. He put out his hand and touched the pillow. It was soft and + smooth as he imagined the cheek of a woman would be. He did not know the + school teacher's name but invented one for her. “Be quiet, Elizabeth. Do + not let me disturb your sleep,” he murmured into the darkness. One evening + he went to the house where the school teacher boarded and stood in the + shadow of a tree until he saw her come out and go toward Main Street. Then + he went by a roundabout way and walked past her on the sidewalk before the + lighted stores. He did not look at her, but in passing her dress touched + his arm and he was so excited later that he could not sleep and spent half + the night walking about and thinking of the wonderful thing that had + happened to him. + </p> + <p> + The ticket, express, and freight agent for the Wheeling and Lake Erie at + Bidwell, a man named George Pike, lived in one of the houses near the + station, and besides attending to his duties for the railroad company, + owned and worked a small farm. He was a slender, alert, silent man with a + long drooping mustache. Both he and his wife worked as Hugh had never seen + a man and woman work before. Their arrangement of the division of labor + was not based on sex but on convenience. Sometimes Mrs. Pike came to the + station to sell tickets, load express boxes and trunks on the passenger + trains and deliver heavy boxes of freight to draymen and farmers, while + her husband worked in the fields back of his house or prepared the evening + meal, and sometimes the matter was reversed and Hugh did not see Mrs. Pike + for several days at a time. + </p> + <p> + During the day there was little for the station agent or his wife to do at + the station and they disappeared. George Pike had made an arrangement of + wires and pulleys connecting the station with a large bell hung on top of + his house, and when some one came to the station to receive or deliver + freight Hugh pulled at the wire and the bell began to ring. In a few + minutes either George Pike or his wife came running from the house or + fields, dispatched the business and went quickly away again. + </p> + <p> + Day after day Hugh sat in a chair by a desk in the station or went outside + and walked up and down the station platform. Engines pulling long caravans + of coal cars ground past. The brakemen waved their hands to him and then + the train disappeared into the grove of trees that grew beside the creek + along which the tracks of the road were laid. In Turner's Pike a creaking + farm wagon appeared and then disappeared along the tree-lined road that + led to Bidwell. The farmer turned on his wagon seat to stare at Hugh but + unlike the railroad men did not wave his hand. Adventurous boys came out + along the road from town and climbed, shouting and laughing, over the + rafters in the deserted pickle factory across the tracks or went to fish + in the creek in the shade of the factory walls. Their shrill voices added + to the loneliness of the spot. It became almost unbearable to Hugh. In + desperation he turned from the rather meaningless doing of sums and + working out of problems regarding the number of fence pickets that could + be cut from a tree or the number of steel rails or railroad ties consumed + in building a mile of railroad, the innumerable petty problems with which + he had been keeping his mind busy, and turned to more definite and + practical problems. He remembered an autumn he had put in cutting corn on + a farm in Illinois and, going into the station, waved his long arms about, + imitating the movements of a man in the act of cutting corn. He wondered + if a machine might not be made that would do the work, and tried to make + drawings of the parts of such a machine. Feeling his inability to handle + so difficult a problem he sent away for books and began the study of + mechanics. He joined a correspondence school started by a man in + Pennsylvania, and worked for days on the problems the man sent him to do. + He asked questions and began a little to understand the mystery of the + application of power. Like the other young men of Bidwell he began to put + himself into touch with the spirit of the age, but unlike them he did not + dream of suddenly acquired wealth. While they embraced new and futile + dreams he worked to destroy the tendency to dreams in himself. + </p> + <p> + Hugh came to Bidwell in the early spring and during May, June and July the + quiet station at Pickleville awoke for an hour or two each evening. A + certain percentage of the sudden and almost overwhelming increase in + express business that came with the ripening of the fruit and berry crop + came to the Wheeling, and every evening a dozen express trucks, piled high + with berry boxes, waited for the south bound train. When the train came + into the station a small crowd had assembled. George Pike and his stout + wife worked madly, throwing the boxes in at the door of the express car. + Idlers standing about became interested and lent a hand. The engineer + climbed out of his locomotive, stretched his legs and crossing a narrow + road got a drink from the pump in George Pike's yard. + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked to the door of his telegraph office and standing in the + shadows watched the busy scene. He wanted to take part in it, to laugh and + talk with the men standing about, to go to the engineer and ask questions + regarding the locomotive and its construction, to help George Pike and his + wife, and perhaps cut through their silence and his own enough to become + acquainted with them. He thought of all these things but stayed in the + shadow of the door that led to the telegraph office until, at a signal + given by the train conductor, the engineer climbed into his engine and the + train began to move away into the evening darkness. When Hugh came out of + his office the station platform was deserted again. In the grass across + the tracks and beside the ghostly looking old factory, crickets sang. Tom + Wilder, the Bidwell hack driver, had got a traveling man off the train and + the dust left by the heels of his team still hung in the air over Turner's + Pike. From the darkness that brooded over the trees that grew along the + creek beyond the factory came the hoarse croak of frogs. On Turner's Pike + a half dozen Bidwell young men accompanied by as many town girls walked + along the path beside the road under the trees. They had come to the + station to have somewhere to go, had made up a party to come, but now the + half unconscious purpose of their coming was apparent. The party split + itself up into couples and each strove to get as far away as possible from + the others. One of the couples came back along the path toward the station + and went to the pump in George Pike's yard. They stood by the pump, + laughing and pretending to drink out of a tin cup, and when they got again + into the road the others had disappeared. They became silent. Hugh went to + the end of the platform and watched as they walked slowly along. He became + furiously jealous of the young man who put his arm about the waist of his + companion and then, when he turned and saw Hugh staring at him, took it + away again. + </p> + <p> + The telegraph operator went quickly along the platform until he was out of + range of the young man's eyes, and, when he thought the gathering darkness + would hide him, returned and crept along the path beside the road after + him. Again a hungry desire to enter into the lives of the people about him + took possession of the Missourian. To be a young man dressed in a stiff + white collar, wearing neatly made clothes, and in the evening to walk + about with young girls seemed like getting on the road to happiness. He + wanted to run shouting along the path beside the road until he had + overtaken the young man and woman, to beg them to take him with them, to + accept him as one of themselves, but when the momentary impulse had passed + and he returned to the telegraph office and lighted a lamp, he looked at + his long awkward body and could not conceive of himself as ever by any + chance becoming the thing he wanted to be. Sadness swept over him and his + gaunt face, already cut and marked with deep lines, became longer and more + gaunt. The old boyhood notion, put into his mind by the words of his + foster-mother, Sarah Shepard, that a town and a people could remake him + and erase from his body the marks of what he thought of as his inferior + birth, began to fade. He tried to forget the people about him and turned + with renewed energy to the study of the problems in the books that now lay + in a pile upon his desk. His inclination to dreams, balked by the + persistent holding of his mind to definite things, began to reassert + itself in a new form, and his brain played no more with pictures of clouds + and men in agitated movement but took hold of steel, wood, and iron. Dumb + masses of materials taken out of the earth and the forests were molded by + his mind into fantastic shapes. As he sat in the telegraph office during + the day or walked alone through the streets of Bidwell at night, he saw in + fancy a thousand new machines, formed by his hands and brain, doing the + work that had been done by the hands of men. He had come to Bidwell, not + only in the hope that there he would at last find companionship, but also + because his mind was really aroused and he wanted leisure to begin trying + to do tangible things. When the citizens of Bidwell would not take him + into their town life but left him standing to one side, as the tiny + dwelling place for men called Pickleville where he lived stood aside out + from under the invisible roof of the town, he decided to try to forget men + and to express himself wholly in work. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + Hugh's first inventive effort stirred the town of Bidwell deeply. When + word of it ran about, the men who had been listening to the talk of Judge + Horace Hanby and whose minds had turned toward the arrival of the new + forward-pushing impulse in American life thought they saw in Hugh the + instrument of its coming to Bidwell. From the day of his coming to live + among them, there had been much curiosity in the stores and houses + regarding the tall, gaunt, slow-speaking stranger at Pickleville. George + Pike had told Birdie Spinks the druggist how Hugh worked all day over + books, and how he made drawings for parts of mysterious machines and left + them on his desk in the telegraph office. Birdie Spinks told others and + the tale grew. When Hugh walked alone in the streets during the evening + and thought no one took account of his presence, hundreds of pairs of + curious eyes followed him about. + </p> + <p> + A tradition in regard to the telegraph operator began to grow up. The + tradition made Hugh a gigantic figure, one who walked always on a plane + above that on which other men lived. In the imagination of his fellow + citizens of the Ohio town, he went about always thinking great thoughts, + solving mysterious and intricate problems that had to do with the new + mechanical age Judge Hanby talked about to the eager listeners in the + drug-store. An alert, talkative people saw among them one who could not + talk and whose long face was habitually serious, and could not think of + him as having daily to face the same kind of minor problems as themselves. + </p> + <p> + The Bidwell young man who had come down to the Wheeling station with a + group of other young men, who had seen the evening train go away to the + south, who had met at the station one of the town girls and had, in order + to escape the others and be alone with her, taken her to the pump in + George Pike's yard on the pretense of wanting a drink, walked away with + her into the darkness of the summer evening with his mind fixed on Hugh. + The young man's name was Ed Hall and he was apprentice to Ben Peeler, the + carpenter who had sent his son to Cleveland to a technical school. He + wanted to marry the girl he had met at the station and did not see how he + could manage it on his salary as a carpenter's apprentice. When he looked + back and saw Hugh standing on the station platform, he took the arm he had + put around the girl's waist quickly away and began to talk. “I'll tell you + what,” he said earnestly, “if things don't pretty soon get on the stir + around here I'm going to get out. I'll go over by Gibsonburg and get a job + in the oil fields, that's what I'll do. I got to have more money.” He + sighed heavily and looked over the girl's head into the darkness. “They + say that telegraph fellow back there at the station is up to something,” + he ventured. “It's all the talk. Birdie Spinks says he is an inventor; + says George Pike told him; says he is working all the time on new + inventions to do things by machinery; that his passing off as a telegraph + operator is only a bluff. Some think maybe he was sent here to see about + starting a factory to make one of his inventions, sent by rich men maybe + in Cleveland or some other place. Everybody says they'll bet there'll be + factories here in Bidwell before very long now. I wish I knew. I don't + want to go away if I don't have to, but I got to have more money. Ben + Peeler won't never give me a raise so I can get married or nothing. I wish + I knew that fellow back there so I could ask him what's up. They say he's + smart. I suppose he wouldn't tell me nothing. I wish I was smart enough to + invent something and maybe get rich. I wish I was the kind of fellow they + say he is.” + </p> + <p> + Ed Hall again put his arm about the girl's waist and walked away. He + forgot Hugh and thought of himself and of how he wanted to marry the girl + whose young body nestled close to his own—wanted her to be utterly + his. For a few hours he passed out of Hugh's growing sphere of influence + on the collective thought of the town, and lost himself in the immediate + deliciousness of kisses. + </p> + <p> + And as he passed out of Hugh's influence others came in. On Main Street in + the evening every one speculated on the Missourian's purpose in coming to + Bidwell. The forty dollars a month paid him by the Wheeling railroad could + not have tempted such a man. They were sure of that. Steve Hunter the + jeweler's son had returned to town from a course in a business college at + Buffalo, New York, and hearing the talk became interested. Steve had in + him the making of a live man of affairs, and he decided to investigate. It + was not, however, Steve's method to go at things directly, and he was + impressed by the notion, then abroad in Bidwell, that Hugh had been sent + to town by some one, perhaps by a group of capitalists who intended to + start factories there. + </p> + <p> + Steve thought he would go easy. In Buffalo, where he had gone to the + business college, he had met a girl whose father, E. P. Horn, owned a soap + factory; had become acquainted with her at church and had been introduced + to her father. The soap maker, an assertive positive man who manufactured + a product called Horn's Household Friend Soap, had his own notion of what + a young man should be and how he should make his way in the world, and had + taken pleasure in talking to Steve. He told the Bidwell jeweler's son of + how he had started his own factory with but little money and had succeeded + and gave Steve many practical hints on the organization of companies. He + talked a great deal of a thing called “control.” “When you get ready to + start for yourself keep that in mind,” he said. “You can sell stock and + borrow money at the bank, all you can get, but don't give up control. Hang + on to that. That's the way I made my success. I always kept the control.” + </p> + <p> + Steve wanted to marry Ernestine Horn, but felt that he should show what he + could do as a business man before he attempted to thrust himself into so + wealthy and prominent a family. When he returned to his own town and heard + the talk regarding Hugh McVey and his inventive genius, he remembered the + soap maker's words regarding control, and repeated them to himself. One + evening he walked along Turner's Pike and stood in the darkness by the old + pickle factory. He saw Hugh at work under a lamp in the telegraph office + and was impressed. “I'll lay low and see what he's up to,” he told + himself. “If he's got an invention, I'll get up a company. I'll get money + in and I'll start a factory. The people here'll tumble over each other to + get into a thing like that. I don't believe any one sent him here. I'll + bet he's just an inventor. That kind always are queer. I'll keep my mouth + shut and watch my chance. If there is anything starts, I'll start it and + I'll get into control, that's what I'll do, I'll get into control.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + In the country stretching away north beyond the fringe of small berry + farms lying directly about town, were other and larger farms. The land + that made up these larger farms was also rich and raised big crops. Great + stretches of it were planted to cabbage for which a market had been built + up in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. Bidwell was often in derision + called Cabbageville by the citizens of nearby towns. One of the largest of + the cabbage farms belonged to a man named Ezra French, and was situated on + Turner's Pike, two miles from town and a mile beyond the Wheeling station. + </p> + <p> + On spring evenings when it was dark and silent about the station and when + the air was heavy with the smell of new growth and of land fresh-turned by + the plow, Hugh got out of his chair in the telegraph office and walked in + the soft darkness. He went along Turner's Pike to town, saw groups of men + standing on the sidewalks before the stores and young girls walking arm in + arm along the street, and then came back to the silent station. Into his + long and habitually cold body the warmth of desire began to creep. The + spring rains came and soft winds blew down from the hill country to the + south. One evening when the moon shone he went around the old pickle + factory to where the creek went chattering under leaning willow trees, and + as he stood in the heavy shadows by the factory wall, tried to imagine + himself as one who had become suddenly clean-limbed, graceful, and agile. + A bush grew beside the stream near the factory and he took hold of it with + his powerful hands and tore it out by the roots. For a moment the strength + in his shoulders and arms gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. He + thought of how powerfully he could hold the body of a woman against his + body and the spark of the fires of spring that had touched him became a + flame. He felt new-made and tried to leap lightly and gracefully across + the stream, but stumbled and fell in the water. Later he went soberly back + to the station and tried again to lose himself in the study of the + problems he had found in his books. + </p> + <p> + The Ezra French farm lay beside Turner's Pike a mile north of the Wheeling + station and contained two hundred acres of land of which a large part was + planted to cabbages. It was a profitable crop to raise and required no + more care than corn, but the planting was a terrible task. Thousands of + plants that had been raised from seeds planted in a seed-bed back of the + barn had to be laboriously transplanted. The plants were tender and it was + necessary to handle them carefully. The planter crawled slowly and + painfully along, and from the road looked like a wounded beast striving to + make his way to a hole in a distant wood. He crawled forward a little and + then stopped and hunched himself up into a ball-like mass. Taking the + plant, dropped on the ground by one of the plant droppers, he made a hole + in the soft ground with a small three-cornered hoe, and with his hands + packed the earth about the plant roots. Then he crawled on again. + </p> + <p> + Ezra the cabbage farmer had come west from one of the New England states + and had grown comfortably wealthy, but he would not employ extra labor for + the plant setting and the work was done by his sons and daughters. He was + a short, bearded man whose leg had been broken in his youth by a fall from + the loft of a barn. As it had not mended properly he could do little work + and limped painfully about. To the men of Bidwell he was known as + something of a wit, and in the winter he went to town every afternoon to + stand in the stores and tell the Rabelaisian stories for which he was + famous; but when spring came he became restlessly active, and in his own + house and on the farm, became a tyrant. During the time of the cabbage + setting he drove his sons and daughters like slaves. When in the evening + the moon came up, he made them go back to the fields immediately after + supper and work until midnight. They went in sullen silence, the girls to + limp slowly along dropping the plants out of baskets carried on their + arms, and the boys to crawl after them and set the plants. In the half + darkness the little group of humans went slowly up and down the long + fields. Ezra hitched a horse to a wagon and brought the plants from the + seed-bed behind the barn. He went here and there swearing and protesting + against every delay in the work. When his wife, a tired little old woman, + had finished the evening's work in the house, he made her come also to the + fields. “Come, come,” he said, sharply, “we need every pair of hands we + can get.” Although he had several thousand dollars in the Bidwell bank and + owned mortgages on two or three neighboring farms, Ezra was afraid of + poverty, and to keep his family at work pretended to be upon the point of + losing all his possessions. “Now is our chance to save ourselves,” he + declared. “We must get in a big crop. If we do not work hard now we'll + starve.” When in the field his sons found themselves unable to crawl + longer without resting, and stood up to stretch their tired bodies, he + stood by the fence at the field's edge and swore. “Well, look at the + mouths I have to feed, you lazies!” he shouted. “Keep at the work. Don't + be idling around. In two weeks it'll be too late for planting and then you + can rest. Now every plant we set will help to save us from ruin. Keep at + the job. Don't be idling around.” + </p> + <p> + In the spring of his second year in Bidwell, Hugh went often in the + evening to watch the plant setters at work in the moonlight on the French + farm. He did not make his presence known but hid himself in a fence corner + behind bushes and watched the workers. As he saw the stooped misshapen + figures crawling slowly along and heard the words of the old man driving + them like cattle, his heart was deeply touched and he wanted to protest. + In the dim light the slowly moving figures of women appeared, and after + them came the crouched crawling men. They came down the long row toward + him, wriggling into his line of sight like grotesquely misshapen animals + driven by some god of the night to the performance of a terrible task. An + arm went up. It came down again swiftly. The three-cornered hoe sank into + the ground. The slow rhythm of the crawler was broken. He reached with his + disengaged hand for the plant that lay on the ground before him and + lowered it into the hole the hoe had made. With his fingers he packed the + earth about the roots of the plant and then again began the slow crawl + forward. There were four of the French boys and the two older ones worked + in silence. The younger boys complained. The three girls and their mother, + who were attending to the plant dropping, came to the end of the row and + turning, went away into the darkness. “I'm going to quit this slavery,” + one of the younger boys said. “I'll get a job over in town. I hope it's + true what they say, that factories are coming.” + </p> + <p> + The four young men came to the end of the row and, as Ezra was not in + sight, stood a moment by the fence near where Hugh was concealed. “I'd + rather be a horse or a cow than what I am,” the complaining voice went on. + “What's the good being alive if you have to work like this?” + </p> + <p> + For a moment as he listened to the voices of the complaining workers, Hugh + wanted to go to them and ask them to let him share in their labor. Then + another thought came. The crawling figures came sharply into his line of + vision. He no longer heard the voice of the youngest of the French boys + that seemed to come out of the ground. The machine-like swing of the + bodies of the plant setters suggested vaguely to his mind the possibility + of building a machine that would do the work they were doing. His mind + took eager hold of that thought and he was relieved. There had been + something in the crawling figures and in the moonlight out of which the + voices came that had begun to awaken in his mind the fluttering, dreamy + state in which he had spent so much of his boyhood. To think of the + possibility of building a plant-setting machine was safer. It fitted into + what Sarah Shepard had so often told him was the safe way of life. As he + went back through the darkness to the railroad station, he thought about + the matter and decided that to become an inventor would be the sure way of + placing his feet at last upon the path of progress he was trying to find. + </p> + <p> + Hugh became absorbed in the notion of inventing a machine that would do + the work he had seen the men doing in the field. All day he thought about + it. The notion once fixed in his mind gave him something tangible to work + upon. In the study of mechanics, taken up in a purely amateur spirit, he + had not gone far enough to feel himself capable of undertaking the actual + construction of such a machine, but thought the difficulty might be + overcome by patience and by experimenting with combinations of wheels, + gears and levers whittled out of pieces of wood. From Hunter's Jewelry + Store he got a cheap clock and spent days taking it apart and putting it + together again. He dropped the doing of mathematical problems and sent + away for books describing the construction of machines. Already the flood + of new inventions, that was so completely to change the methods of + cultivating the soil in America, had begun to spread over the country, and + many new and strange kinds of agricultural implements arrived at the + Bidwell freight house of the Wheeling railroad. There Hugh saw a + harvesting machine for cutting grain, a mowing machine for cutting hay and + a long-nosed strange-looking implement that was intended to root potatoes + out of the ground very much after the method pursued by energetic pigs. He + studied these carefully. For a time his mind turned away from the hunger + for human contact and he was content to remain an isolated figure, + absorbed in the workings of his own awakening mind. + </p> + <p> + An absurd and amusing thing happened. After the impulse to try to invent a + plant-setting machine came to him, he went every evening to conceal + himself in the fence corner and watch the French family at their labors. + Absorbed in watching the mechanical movements of the men who crawled + across the fields in the moonlight, he forgot they were human. After he + had watched them crawl into sight, turn at the end of the rows, and crawl + away again into the hazy light that had reminded him of the dim distances + of his own Mississippi River country, he was seized with a desire to crawl + after them and to try to imitate their movements. Certain intricate + mechanical problems, that had already come into his mind in connection + with the proposed machine, he thought could be better understood if he + could get the movements necessary to plant setting into his own body. His + lips began to mutter words and getting out of the fence corner where he + had been concealed he began to crawl across the field behind the French + boys. “The down stroke will go so,” he muttered, and bringing up his arm + swung it above his head. His fist descended into the soft ground. He had + forgotten the rows of new set plants and crawled directly over them, + crushing them into the soft ground. He stopped crawling and waved his arm + about. He tried to relate his arms to the mechanical arms of the machine + that was being created in his mind. Holding one arm stiffly in front of + him he moved it up and down. “The stroke will be shorter than that. The + machine must be built close to the ground. The wheels and the horses will + travel in paths between the rows. The wheels must be broad to provide + traction. I will gear from the wheels to get power for the operation of + the mechanism,” he said aloud. + </p> + <p> + Hugh arose and stood in the moonlight in the cabbage field, his arms still + going stiffly up and down. The great length of his figure and his arms was + accentuated by the wavering uncertain light. The laborers, aware of some + strange presence, sprang to their feet and stood listening and looking. + Hugh advanced toward them, still muttering words and waving his arms. + Terror took hold of the workers. One of the woman plant droppers screamed + and ran away across the field, and the others ran crying at her heels. + “Don't do it. Go away,” the older of the French boys shouted, and then he + with his brothers also ran. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the voices Hugh stopped and stared about. The field was empty. + Again he lost himself in his mechanical calculations. He went back along + the road to the Wheeling station and to the telegraph office where he + worked half the night on a rude drawing he was trying to make of the parts + of his plant setting machine, oblivious to the fact that he had created a + myth that would run through the whole countryside. The French boys and + their sisters stoutly declared that a ghost had come into the cabbage + fields and had threatened them with death if they did not go away and quit + working at night. In a trembling voice their mother backed up their + assertion. Ezra French, who had not seen the apparition and did not + believe the tale, scented a revolution. He swore. He threatened the entire + family with starvation. He declared that a lie had been invented to + deceive and betray him. + </p> + <p> + However, the work at night in the cabbage fields on the French farm was at + an end. The story was told in the town of Bidwell, and as the entire + French family except Ezra swore to its truth, was generally believed. Tom + Foresby, an old citizen who was a spiritualist, claimed to have heard his + father say that there had been in early days an Indian burying-ground on + the Turner Pike. + </p> + <p> + The cabbage field on the French farm became locally famous. Within a year + two other men declared they had seen the figure of a gigantic Indian + dancing and singing a funeral dirge in the moonlight. Farmer boys, who had + been for an evening in town and were returning late at night to lonely + farmhouses, whipped their horses into a run when they came to the farm. + When it was far behind them they breathed more freely. Although he + continued to swear and threaten, Ezra never again succeeded in getting his + family into the fields at night. In Bidwell he declared that the story of + the ghost invented by his lazy sons and daughters had ruined his chance + for making a decent living out of his farm. + </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 VI + </h2> + <p> + Steve Hunter decided that it was time something was done to wake up his + native town. The call of the spring wind awoke something in him as in + Hugh. It came up from the south bringing rain followed by warm fair days. + Robins hopped about on the lawns before the houses on the residence + streets of Bidwell, and the air was again sweet with the pregnant + sweetness of new-plowed ground. Like Hugh, Steve walked about alone + through the dark, dimly lighted residence streets during the spring + evenings, but he did not try awkwardly to leap over creeks in the darkness + or pull bushes out of the ground, nor did he waste his time dreaming of + being physically young, clean-limbed and beautiful. + </p> + <p> + Before the coming of his great achievements in the industrial field, Steve + had not been highly regarded in his home town. He had been a noisy + boastful youth and had been spoiled by his father. When he was twelve + years old what were called safety bicycles first came into use and for a + long time he owned the only one in town. In the evening he rode it up and + down Main Street, frightening the horses and arousing the envy of the town + boys. He learned to ride without putting his hands on the handle-bars and + the other boys began to call him Smarty Hunter and later, because he wore + a stiff, white collar that folded down over his shoulders, they gave him a + girl's name. “Hello, Susan,” they shouted, “don't fall and muss your + clothes.” + </p> + <p> + In the spring that marked the beginning of his great industrial adventure, + Steve was stirred by the soft spring winds into dreaming his own kind of + dreams. As he walked about through the streets, avoiding the other young + men and women, he remembered Ernestine, the daughter of the Buffalo soap + maker, and thought a great deal about the magnificence of the big stone + house in which she lived with her father. His body ached for her, but that + was a matter he felt could be managed. How he could achieve a financial + position that would make it possible for him to ask for her hand was a + more difficult problem. Since he had come back from the business college + to live in his home town, he had secretly, and at the cost of two new five + dollar dresses, arranged a physical alliance with a girl named Louise + Trucker whose father was a farm laborer, and that left his mind free for + other things. He intended to become a manufacturer, the first one in + Bidwell, to make himself a leader in the new movement that was sweeping + over the country. He had thought out what he wanted to do and it only + remained to find something for him to manufacture to put his plans + through. First of all he had selected with great care certain men he + intended to ask to go in with him. There was John Clark the banker, his + own father, E. H. Hunter the town jeweler, Thomas Butterworth the rich + farmer, and young Gordon Hart, who had a job as assistant cashier in the + bank. For a month he had been dropping hints to these men of something + mysterious and important about to happen. With the exception of his father + who had infinite faith in the shrewdness and ability of his son, the men + he wanted to impress were only amused. One day Thomas Butterworth went + into the bank and stood talking the matter over with John Clark. “The + young squirt was always a Smart-Aleck and a blow-hard,” he said. “What's + he up to now? What's he nudging and whispering about?” + </p> + <p> + As he walked in the main street of Bidwell, Steve began to acquire that + air of superiority that later made him so respected and feared. He hurried + along with a peculiarly intense absorbed look in his eyes. He saw his + fellow townsmen as through a haze, and sometimes did not see them at all. + As he went along he took papers from his pocket, read them hurriedly, and + then quickly put them away again. When he did speak—perhaps to a man + who had known him from boyhood—there was in his manner something + gracious to the edge of condescension. One morning in March he met Zebe + Wilson the town shoemaker on the sidewalk before the post-office. Steve + stopped and smiled. “Well, good morning, Mr. Wilson,” he said, “and how is + the quality of leather you are getting from the tanneries now?” + </p> + <p> + Word regarding this strange salutation ran about among the merchants and + artisans. “What's he up to now?” they asked each other. “Mr. Wilson, + indeed! Now what's wrong between that young squirt and Zebe Wilson?” + </p> + <p> + In the afternoon, four clerks from the Main Street stores and Ed Hall the + carpenter's apprentice, who had a half day off because of rain, decided to + investigate. One by one they went along Hamilton Street to Zebe Wilson's + shop and stepped inside to repeat Steve Hunter's salutation. “Well, good + afternoon, Mr. Wilson,” they said, “and how is the quality of leather you + are getting from the tanneries now?” Ed Hall, the last of the five who + went into the shop to repeat the formal and polite inquiry, barely escaped + with his life. Zebe Wilson threw a shoemaker's hammer at him and it went + through the glass in the upper part of the shop door. + </p> + <p> + Once when Tom Butterworth and John Clark the banker were talking of the + new air of importance he was assuming, and half indignantly speculated on + what he meant by his whispered suggestion of something significant about + to happen, Steve came along Main Street past the front door of the bank. + John Clark called him in. The three men confronted each other and the + jeweler's son sensed the fact that the banker and the rich farmer were + amused by his pretensions. At once he proved himself to be what all + Bidwell later acknowledged him to be, a man who could handle men and + affairs. Having at that time nothing to support his pretensions he decided + to put up a bluff. With a wave of his hand and an air of knowing just what + he was about, he led the two men into the back room of the bank and shut + the door leading into the large room to which the general public was + admitted. “You would have thought he owned the place,” John Clark + afterward said with a note of admiration in his voice to young Gordon Hart + when he described what took place in the back room. + </p> + <p> + Steve plunged at once into what he had to say to the two solid moneyed + citizens of his town. “Well, now, look here, you two,” he began earnestly. + “I'm going to tell you something, but you got to keep still.” He went to + the window that looked out upon an alleyway and glanced about as though + fearful of being overheard, then sat down in the chair usually occupied by + John Clark on the rare occasions when the directors of the Bidwell bank + held a meeting. Steve looked over the heads of the two men who in spite of + themselves were beginning to be impressed. “Well,” he began, “there is a + fellow out at Pickleville. You have maybe heard things said about him. + He's telegraph operator out there. Perhaps you have heard how he is always + making drawings of parts of machines. I guess everybody in town has been + wondering what he's up to.” + </p> + <p> + Steve looked at the two men and then got nervously out of the chair and + walked about the room. “That fellow is my man. I put him there,” he + declared. “I didn't want to tell any one yet.” + </p> + <p> + The two men nodded and Steve became lost in the notion created in his + fancy. It did not occur to him that what he had just said was untrue. He + began to scold the two men. “Well, I suppose I'm on the wrong track + there,” he said. “My man has made an invention that will bring millions in + profits to those who get into it. In Cleveland and Buffalo I'm already in + touch with big bankers. There's to be a big factory built, but you see + yourself how it is, here I'm at home. I was raised as a boy here.” + </p> + <p> + The excited young man plunged into an exposition of the spirit of the new + times. He grew bold and scolded the older men. “You know yourself that + factories are springing up everywhere, in towns all over the State,” he + said. “Will Bidwell wake up? Will we have factories here? You know well + enough we won't, and I know why. It's because a man like me who was raised + here has to go to a city to get money to back his plans. If I talked to + you fellows you would laugh at me. In a few years I might make you more + money than you have made in your whole lives, but what's the use talking? + I'm Steve Hunter; you knew me when I was a kid. You'd laugh. What's the + use my trying to tell you fellows my plans?” + </p> + <p> + Steve turned as though to go out of the room, but Tom Butterworth took + hold of his arm and led him back to a chair. “Now, you tell us what you're + up to,” he demanded. In turn he grew indignant. “If you've got something + to manufacture you can get backing here as well as any place,” he said. He + became convinced that the jeweler's son was telling the truth. It did not + occur to him that a Bidwell young man would dare lie to such solid men as + John Clark and himself. “You let them city bankers alone,” he said + emphatically. “You tell us your story. What you got to tell?” + </p> + <p> + In the silent little room the three men stared at each other. Tom + Butterworth and John Clark in their turn began to have dreams. They + remembered the tales they had heard of vast fortunes made quickly by men + who owned new and valuable inventions. The land was at that time full of + such tales. They were blown about on every wind. Quickly they realized + that they had made a mistake in their attitude toward Steve, and were + anxious to win his regard. They had called him into the bank to bully him + and to laugh at him. Now they were sorry. As for Steve, he only wanted to + get away—to get by himself and think. An injured look crept over his + face. “Well,” he said, “I thought I'd give Bidwell a chance. There are + three or four men here. I have spoken to all of you and dropped a hint of + something in the wind, but I'm not ready to be very definite yet.” + </p> + <p> + Seeing the new look of respect in the eyes of the two men Steve became + bold. “I was going to call a meeting when I was ready,” he said pompously. + “You two do what I've been doing. You keep your mouths shut. Don't go near + that telegraph operator and don't talk to a soul. If you mean business + I'll give you a chance to make barrels of money, more'n you ever dreamed + of, but don't be in a hurry.” He took a bundle of letters out of his + inside coat pocket, and beat with them on the edge of the table that + occupied the center of the room. Another bold thought came into his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I've got letters here offering me big money to take my factory either to + Cleveland or Buffalo,” he declared emphatically. “It isn't money that's + hard to get. I can tell you men that. What a man wants in his home town is + respect. He don't want to be looked on as a fool because he tries to do + something to rise in the world.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Steve walked boldly out of the bank and into Main Street. When he had got + out of the presence of the two men he was frightened. “Well, I've done it. + I've made a fool of myself,” he muttered aloud. In the bank he had said + that Hugh McVey the telegraph operator was his man, that he had brought + the fellow to Bidwell. What a fool he had been. In his anxiety to impress + the two older men he had told a story, the falsehood of which could be + discovered in a few minutes. Why had he not kept his dignity and waited? + There had been no occasion for being so definite. He had gone too far, had + been carried away. To be sure he had told the two men not to go near the + telegraph operator, but that would no doubt but serve to arouse their + suspicions of the thinness of his story. They would talk the matter over + and start an investigation of their own. Then they would find out he had + lied. He imagined the two men as already engaged in a whispered + conversation regarding the probability of his tale. Like most shrewd men + he had an exalted notion regarding the shrewdness of others. He walked a + little away from the bank and then turned to look back. A shiver ran over + his body. Into his mind came the sickening fear that the telegraph + operator at Pickleville was not an inventor at all. The town was full of + tales, and in the bank he had taken advantage of that fact to make an + impression; but what proof had he? No one had seen one of the inventions + supposed to have been worked out by the mysterious stranger from Missouri. + There had after all been nothing but whispered suspicions, old wives' + tales, fables invented by men who had nothing to do but loaf in the + drug-store and make up stories. + </p> + <p> + The thought that Hugh McVey might not be an inventor overpowered him and + he put it quickly aside. He had something more immediate to think about. + The story of the bluff he had just made in the bank would be found out and + the whole town would rock with laughter at his expense. The young men of + the town did not like him. They would roll the story over on their + tongues. Ribald old fellows who had nothing else to do would take up the + story with joy and would elaborate it. Fellows like the cabbage farmer, + Ezra French, who had a talent for saying cutting things would exercise it. + They would make up imaginary inventions, grotesque, absurd inventions. + Then they would get young fellows to come to him and propose that he take + them up, promote them, and make every one rich. Men would shout jokes at + him as he went along Main Street. His dignity would be gone forever. He + would be made a fool of by the very school boys as he had been in his + youth when he bought the bicycle and rode it about before the eyes of + other boys in the evenings. + </p> + <p> + Steve hurried out of Main Street and went over the bridge that crossed the + river into Turner's Pike. He did not know what he intended to do, but felt + there was much at stake and that he would have to do something at once. It + was a warm, cloudy day and the road that led to Pickleville was muddy. + During the night before it had rained and more rain was promised. The path + beside the road was slippery, and so absorbed was he that as he plunged + along, his feet slipped out from under him and he sat down in a small pool + of water. A farmer driving past along the road turned to laugh at him. + “You go to hell,” Steve shouted. “You just mind your own business and go + to hell.” + </p> + <p> + The distracted young man tried to walk sedately along the path. The long + grass that grew beside the path wet his shoes, and his hands were wet and + muddy. Farmers turned on their wagon seats to stare at him. For some + obscure reason he could not himself understand, he was terribly afraid to + face Hugh McVey. In the bank he had been in the presence of men who were + trying to get the best of him, to make a fool of him, to have fun at his + expense. He had felt that and had resented it. The knowledge had given him + a certain kind of boldness; it had enabled his mind to make up the story + of the inventor secretly employed at his own expense and the city bankers + anxious to furnish him capital. Although he was terribly afraid of + discovery, he felt a little glow of pride at the thought of the boldness + with which he had taken the letters out of his pocket and had challenged + the two men to call his bluff. + </p> + <p> + Steve, however, felt there was something different about the man in the + telegraph office in Pickleville. He had been in town for nearly two years + and no one knew anything about him. His silence might be indicative of + anything. He was afraid the tall silent Missourian might decide to have + nothing to do with him, and pictured himself as being brushed rudely + aside, being told to mind his own business. + </p> + <p> + Steve knew instinctively how to handle business men. One simply created + the notion of money to be made without effort. He had done that to the two + men in the bank and it had worked. After all he had succeeded in making + them respect him. He had handled the situation. He wasn't such a fool at + that kind of a thing. The other thing he had to face might be very + different. Perhaps after all Hugh McVey was a big inventor, a man with a + powerful creative mind. It was possible he had been sent to Bidwell by a + big business man of some city. Big business men did strange, mysterious + things; they put wires out in all directions, controlled a thousand little + avenues for the creation of wealth. + </p> + <p> + Just starting out on his own career as a man of affairs, Steve had an + overpowering respect for what he thought of as the subtlety of men of + affairs. With all the other American youths of his generation he had been + swept off his feet by the propaganda that then went on and is still going + on, and that is meant to create the illusion of greatness in connection + with the ownership of money. He did not then know and, in spite of his own + later success and his own later use of the machinery by which illusion is + created, he never found out that in an industrial world reputations for + greatness of mind are made as a Detroit manufacturer would make + automobiles. He did not know that men are employed to bring up the name of + a politician so that he may be called a statesman, as a new brand of + breakfast food that it may be sold; that most modern great men are mere + illusions sprung out of a national hunger for greatness. Some day a wise + man, one who has not read too many books but who has gone about among men, + will discover and set forth a very interesting thing about America. The + land is vast and there is a national hunger for vastness in individuals. + One wants an Illinois-sized man for Illinois, an Ohio-sized man for Ohio, + and a Texas-sized man for Texas. + </p> + <p> + To be sure, Steve Hunter had no notion of all this. He never did get a + notion of it. The men he had already begun to think of as great and to try + to imitate were like the strange and gigantic protuberances that sometimes + grow on the side of unhealthy trees, but he did not know it. He did not + know that throughout the country, even in that early day, a system was + being built up to create the myth of greatness. At the seat of the + American Government at Washington, hordes of somewhat clever and + altogether unhealthy young men were already being employed for the + purpose. In a sweeter age many of these young men might have become + artists, but they had not been strong enough to stand against the growing + strength of dollars. They had become instead newspaper correspondents and + secretaries to politicians. All day and every day they used their minds + and their talents as writers in the making of puffs and the creating of + myths concerning the men by whom they were employed. They were like the + trained sheep that are used at great slaughter-houses to lead other sheep + into the killing pens. Having befouled their own minds for hire, they made + their living by befouling the minds of others. Already they had found out + that no great cleverness was required for the work they had to do. What + was required was constant repetition. It was only necessary to say over + and over that the man by whom they were employed was a great man. No proof + had to be brought forward to substantiate the claims they made; no great + deeds had to be done by the men who were thus made great, as brands of + crackers or breakfast food are made salable. Stupid and prolonged and + insistent repetition was what was necessary. + </p> + <p> + As the politicians of the industrial age have created a myth about + themselves, so also have the owners of dollars, the big bankers, the + railroad manipulators, the promoters of industrial enterprise. The impulse + to do so is partly sprung from shrewdness but for the most part it is due + to a hunger within to be of some real moment in the world. Knowing that + the talent that had made them rich is but a secondary talent, and being a + little worried about the matter, they employ men to glorify it. Having + employed a man for the purpose, they are themselves children enough to + believe the myth they have paid money to have created. Every rich man in + the country unconsciously hates his press agent. + </p> + <p> + Although he had never read a book, Steve was a constant reader of the + newspapers and had been deeply impressed by the stories he had read + regarding the shrewdness and ability of the American captains of industry. + To him they were supermen and he would have crawled on his knees before a + Gould or a Cal Price—the commanding figures among moneyed men of + that day. As he went down along Turner's Pike that day when industry was + born in Bidwell, he thought of these men and of lesser rich men of + Cleveland and Buffalo, and was afraid that in approaching Hugh he might be + coming into competition with one of these men. As he hurried along under + the gray sky, he however realized that the time for action had come and + that he must at once put the plans that he had formed in his mind to the + test of practicability; that he must at once see Hugh McVey, find out if + he really did have an invention that could be manufactured, and if he did + try to secure some kind of rights of ownership over it. “If I do not act + at once, either Tom Butterworth or John Clark will get in ahead of me,” he + thought. He knew they were both shrewd capable men. Had they not become + well-to-do? Even during the talk in the bank, when they had seemed to be + impressed by his words, they might well have been making plans to get the + better of him. They would act, but he must act first. + </p> + <p> + Steve hadn't the courage of the lie he had told. He did not have + imagination enough to understand how powerful a thing is a lie. He walked + quickly along until he came to the Wheeling Station at Pickleville, and + then, not having the courage to confront Hugh at once, went past the + station and crept in behind the deserted pickle factory that stood across + the tracks. Through a broken window at the back he climbed, and crept like + a thief across the earth floor until he came to a window that looked out + upon the station. A freight train rumbled slowly past and a farmer came to + the station to get a load of goods that had arrived by freight. George + Pike came running from his house to attend to the wants of the farmer. He + went back to his house and Steve was left alone in the presence of the man + on whom he felt all of his future depended. He was as excited as a village + girl in the presence of a lover. Through the windows of the telegraph + office he could see Hugh seated at a desk with a book before him. The + presence of the book frightened him. He decided that the mysterious + Missourian must be some strange sort of intellectual giant. He was sure + that one who could sit quietly reading hour after hour in such a lonely + isolated place could be of no ordinary clay. As he stood in the deep + shadows inside the old building and stared at the man he was trying to + find courage to approach, a citizen of Bidwell named Dick Spearsman came + to the station and going inside, talked to the telegraph operator. Steve + trembled with anxiety. The man who had come to the station was an + insurance agent who also owned a small berry farm at the edge of town. He + had a son who had gone west to take up land in the state of Kansas, and + the father thought of visiting him. He came to the station to make inquiry + regarding the railroad fare, but when Steve saw him talking to Hugh, the + thought came into his mind that John Clark or Thomas Butterworth might + have sent him to the station to make an investigation of the truth of the + statements he had made in the bank. “It would be like them to do it that + way,” he muttered to himself. “They wouldn't come themselves. They would + send some one they thought I wouldn't suspect. They would play safe, damn + 'em.” + </p> + <p> + Trembling with fear, Steve walked up and down in the empty factory. + Cobwebs hanging down brushed against his face and he jumped aside as + though a hand had reached out of the darkness to touch him. In the corners + of the old building shadows lurked and distorted thoughts began to come + into his head. He rolled and lighted a cigarette and then remembered that + the flare of the match could probably be seen from the station. He cursed + himself for his carelessness. Throwing the cigarette on the earth floor he + ground it under his heel. When at last Dick Spearsman had disappeared up + the road that led to Bidwell and he came out of the old factory and got + again into Turner's Pike, he felt that he was in no shape to talk of + business but nevertheless must act at once. In front of the factory he + stopped in the road and tried to wipe the mud off the seat of his trousers + with a handkerchief. Then he went to the creek and washed his soiled + hands. With wet hands he arranged his tie and straightened the collar of + his coat. He had an air of one about to ask a woman to become his wife. + Striving to look as important and dignified as possible, he went along the + station platform and into the telegraph office to confront Hugh and to + find out at once and finally what fate the gods had in store for him. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + It no doubt contributed to Steve's happiness in after life, in the days + when he was growing rich, and later when he reached out for public honors, + contributed to campaign funds, and even in secret dreamed of getting into + the United States Senate or being Governor of his state, that he never + knew how badly he overreached himself that day in his youth when he made + his first business deal with Hugh at the Wheeling Station at Pickleville. + Later Hugh's interest in the Steven Hunter industrial enterprises was + taken care of by a man who was as shrewd as Steve himself. Tom + Butterworth, who had made money and knew how to make and handle money, + managed such things for the inventor, and Steve's chance was gone forever. + </p> + <p> + That is, however, a part of the story of the development of the town of + Bidwell and a story that Steve never understood. When he overreached + himself that day he did not know what he had done. He made a deal with + Hugh and was happy to escape the predicament he thought he had got himself + into when he talked too much to the two men in the bank. + </p> + <p> + Although Steve's father had always a great faith in his son's shrewdness + and when he talked to other men represented him as a peculiarly capable + and unappreciated man, the two did not in private get on well. In the + Hunter household they quarreled and snarled at each other. Steve's mother + had died when he was a small boy and his one sister, two years older than + himself, kept herself always in the house and seldom appeared on the + streets. She was a semi-invalid. Some obscure nervous disease had twisted + her body out of shape, and her face twitched incessantly. One morning in + the barn back of the Hunter house Steve, then a lad of fourteen, was + oiling his bicycle when his sister appeared and stood watching him. A + small wrench lay on the ground and she picked it up. Suddenly and without + warning she began to beat him on the head. He was compelled to knock her + down in order to tear the wrench out of her hand. After the incident she + was ill in bed for a month. + </p> + <p> + Elsie Hunter was always a source of unhappiness to her brother. As he + began to get up in life Steve had a growing passion for being respected by + his fellows. It got to be something of an obsession with him and among + other things he wanted very much to be thought of as one who had good + blood in his veins. A man whom he hired searched out his ancestry, and + with the exception of his immediate family it seemed very satisfactory. + The sister, with her twisted body and her face that twitched so + persistently, seemed to be everlastingly sneering at him. He grew half + afraid to come into her presence. After he began to grow rich he married + Ernestine, the daughter of the soap maker at Buffalo, and when her father + died she also had a great deal of money. His own father died and he set up + a household of his own. That was in the time when big houses began to + appear at the edge of the berry lands and on the hills south of Bidwell. + On his father's death Steve became guardian for his sister. The jeweler + had left a small estate and it was entirely in the son's hands. Elsie + lived with one servant in a small house in town and was put in the + position of being entirely dependent on her brother's bounty. In a sense + it might be said that she lived by her hatred of him. When on rare + occasions he came to her house she would not see him. A servant came to + the door and reported her asleep. Almost every month she wrote a letter + demanding that her share of her father's money be handed over to her, but + it did no good. Steve occasionally spoke to an acquaintance of his + difficulty with her. “I am more sorry for the woman than I can say,” he + declared. “It's the dream of my life to make the poor afflicted soul + happy. You see yourself that I provide her with every comfort of life. + Ours is an old family. I have it from an expert in such matters that we + are descendants of one Hunter, a courtier in the court of Edward the + Second of England. Our blood has perhaps become a little thin. All the + vitality of the family was centered in me. My sister does not understand + me and that has been the cause of much unhappiness and heart burning, but + I shall always do my duty by her.” + </p> + <p> + In the late afternoon of the spring day that was also the most eventful + day of his life, Steve went quickly along the Wheeling Station platform to + the door of the telegraph office. It was a public place, but before going + in he stopped, again straightened his tie and brushed his clothes, and + then knocked at the door. As there was no response he opened the door + softly and looked in. Hugh was at his desk but did not look up. Steve went + in and closed the door. By chance the moment of his entrance was also a + big moment in the life of the man he had come to see. The mind of the + young inventor, that had for so long been dreamy and uncertain, had + suddenly become extraordinarily clear and free. One of the inspired + moments that come to intense natures, working intensely, had come to him. + The mechanical problem he was trying so hard to work out became clear. It + was one of the moments that Hugh afterwards thought of as justifying his + existence, and in later life he came to live for such moments. With a nod + of his head to Steve he arose and hurried out to the building that was + used by the Wheeling as a freight warehouse. The jeweler's son ran at his + heels. On an elevated platform before the freight warehouse sat an odd + looking agricultural implement, a machine for rooting potatoes out of the + ground that had been received on the day before and was now awaiting + delivery to some farmer. Hugh dropped to his knees beside the machine and + examined it closely. Muttered exclamations broke from his lips. For the + first time in his life he was not embarrassed in the presence of another + person. The two men, the one almost grotesquely tall, the other short of + stature and already inclined toward corpulency, stared at each other. + “What is it you're inventing? I came to see you about that,” Steve said + timidly. + </p> + <p> + Hugh did not answer the question directly. He stepped across the narrow + platform to the freight warehouse and began to make a rude drawing on the + side of the building. Then he tried to explain his plant-setting machine. + He spoke of it as a thing already achieved. At the moment he thought of it + in that way. “I had not thought of the use of a large wheel with the arms + attached at regular intervals,” he said absent-mindedly. “I will have to + find money now. That'll be the next step. It will be necessary to make a + working model of the machine now. I must find out what changes I'll have + to make in my calculations.” + </p> + <p> + The two men returned to the telegraph office and while Hugh listened Steve + made his proposal. Even then he did not understand what the machine that + was to be made was to do. It was enough for him that a machine was to be + made and he wanted to share in its ownership at once. As the two men + walked back from the freight warehouse, his mind took hold of Hugh's + remark about getting money. Again he was afraid. “There's some one in the + background,” he thought. “Now I must make a proposal he can't refuse. I + mustn't leave until I've made a deal with him.” + </p> + <p> + Fairly carried away by his anxiety, Steve proposed to provide money out of + his own pocket to make the model of the machine. “We'll rent the old + pickle factory across the track,” he said, opening the door and pointing + with a trembling finger. “I can get it cheap. I'll have windows and a + floor put in. Then I'll get you a man to whittle out a model of the + machine. Allie Mulberry can do it. I'll get him for you. He can whittle + anything if you only show him what you want. He's half crazy and won't get + on to our secret. When the model is made, leave it to me, you just leave + it to me.” + </p> + <p> + Rubbing his hands together Steve walked boldly to The telegrapher's desk + and picking up a sheet of paper began to write out a contract. It provided + that Hugh Was to get a royalty of ten per cent. of the selling price on + the machine he had invented and that was to be manufactured by a company + to be organized by Steven Hunter. The contract also stated that a + promoting company was to be organized at once and money provided for the + experimental work Hugh had yet to do. The Missourian was to begin getting + a salary at once. He was to risk nothing, as Steve elaborately explained. + When he was ready for them mechanics were to be employed and their + salaries paid. When the contract had been written and read aloud, a copy + was made and Hugh, who was again embarrassed beyond words, signed his + name. + </p> + <p> + With a flourish of his hand Steve laid a little pile of money on the desk. + “That's for a starter,” he said and turned to frown at George Pike who at + that moment came to the door. The freight agent went quickly away and the + two men were left alone together. Steve shook hands with his new partner. + He went out and then came in again. “You understand,” he said + mysteriously. “The fifty dollars is your first month's salary. I was ready + for you. I brought it along. You just leave everything to me, just you + leave it to me.” Again he went out and Hugh was left alone. He saw the + young man go across the tracks to the old factory and walk up and down + before it. When a farmer came along and shouted at him, he did not reply, + but stepping back into the road swept the deserted old building with his + eyes as a general might have looked over a battlefield. Then he went + briskly down the road toward town and the farmer turned on his wagon seat + to stare after him. + </p> + <p> + Hugh McVey also stared. When Steve had gone away, he walked to the end of + the station platform and looked along the road toward town. It seemed to + him wonderful that he had at last held conversation with a citizen of + Bidwell. A little of the import of the contract he had signed came to him, + and he went into the station and got his copy of it and put it in his + pocket. Then he came out again. When he read it over and realized anew + that he was to be paid a living wage and have time and help to work out + the problem that had now become vastly important to his happiness, it + seemed to him that he had been in the presence of a kind of god. He + remembered the words of Sarah Shepard concerning the bright alert citizens + of eastern towns and realized that he had been in the presence of such a + being, that he had in some way become connected in his new work with such + a one. The realization overcame him completely. Forgetting entirely his + duties as a telegrapher, he closed the office and went for a walk across + the meadows and in the little patches of woodlands that still remained + standing in the open plain north of Pickleville. He did not return until + late at night, and when he did, had not solved the puzzle as to what had + happened. All he got out of it was the fact that the machine he had been + trying to make was of great and mysterious importance to the civilization + into which he had come to live and of which he wanted so keenly to be a + part. There seemed to him something almost sacred in that fact. A new + determination to complete and perfect his plant-setting machine had taken + possession of him. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + The meeting to organize a promotion company that would in turn launch the + first industrial enterprise in the town of Bidwell was held in the back + room of the Bidwell bank one afternoon in June. The berry season had just + come to an end and the streets were full of people. A circus had come to + town and at one o'clock there was a parade. Before the stores horses + belonging to visiting country people stood hitched in two long rows. The + meeting in the bank was not held until four o'clock, when the banking + business was at an end for the day. It had been a hot, stuffy afternoon + and a storm threatened. For some reason the whole town had an inkling of + the fact that a meeting was to be held on that day, and in spite of the + excitement caused by the coming of the circus, it was in everybody's mind. + From the very beginning of his upward journey in life, Steve Hunter had + the faculty of throwing an air of mystery and importance about everything + he did. Every one saw the workings of the machinery by which the myth + concerning himself was created, but was nevertheless impressed. Even the + men of Bidwell who retained the ability to laugh at Steve could not laugh + at the things he did. + </p> + <p> + For two months before the day on which the meeting was held, the town had + been on edge. Every one knew that Hugh McVey had suddenly given up his + place in the telegraph office and that he was engaged in some enterprise + with Steve Hunter. “Well, I see he has thrown off the mask, that fellow,” + said Alban Foster, superintendent of the Bidwell schools, in speaking of + the matter to the Reverend Harvey Oxford, the minister of the Baptist + Church. + </p> + <p> + Steve saw to it that although every one was curious the curiosity was + unsatisfied. Even his father was left in the dark. The two men had a sharp + quarrel about the matter, but as Steve had three thousand dollars of his + own, left him by his mother, and was well past his twenty-first year, + there was nothing his father could do. + </p> + <p> + At Pickleville the windows and doors at the back of the deserted factory + were bricked up, and over the windows and the door at the front, where a + floor had been laid, iron bars specially made by Lew Twining the Bidwell + blacksmith had been put. The bars over the door locked the place at night + and gave the factory the air of a prison. Every evening before he went to + bed Steve walked to Pickleville. The sinister appearance of the building + at night gave him a peculiar satisfaction. “They'll find out what I'm up + to when I want 'em to,” he said to himself. Allie Mulberry worked at the + factory during the day. Under Hugh's direction he whittled pieces of wood + into various shapes, but had no idea of what he was doing. No one but the + half-wit and Steve Hunter were admitted to the society of the telegraph + operator. When Allie Mulberry came into the Main Street at night, every + one stopped him and a thousand questions were asked, but he only shook his + head and smiled foolishly. On Sunday afternoons crowds of men and women + walked down Turner's Pike to Pickleville and stood looking at the deserted + building, but no one tried to enter. The bars were in place and window + shades were drawn over the windows. Above the door that faced the road + there was a large sign. “Keep Out. This Means You,” the sign said. + </p> + <p> + The four men who met Steve in the bank knew vaguely that some sort of + invention was being perfected, but did not know what it was. They spoke in + an offhand way of the matter to their friends and that increased the + general curiosity. Every one tried to guess what was up. When Steve was + not about, John Clark and young Gordon Hart pretended to know everything + but gave the impression of men sworn to secrecy. The fact that Steve told + them nothing seemed to them a kind of insult. “The young upstart, I + believe yet he's a bluff,” the banker declared to his friend, Tom + Butterworth. + </p> + <p> + On Main Street the old and young men who stood about before the stores in + the evening tried also to make light of the jeweler's son and the air of + importance he constantly assumed. They also spoke of him as a young + upstart and a windbag, but after the beginning of his connection with Hugh + McVey, something of conviction went out of their voices. “I read in the + paper that a man in Toledo made thirty thousand dollars out of an + invention. He got it up in less than a day. He just thought of it. It's a + new kind of way for sealing fruit cans,” a man in the crowd before Birdie + Spink's drug store absent-mindedly observed. + </p> + <p> + Inside the drug store by the empty stove, Judge Hanby talked persistently + of the time when factories would come. He seemed to those who listened a + sort of John the Baptist crying out of the coming of the new day. One + evening in May of that year, when a goodly crowd was assembled, Steve + Hunter came in and bought a cigar. Every one became silent. Birdie Spinks + was for some mysterious reason a little upset. In the store something + happened that, had there been some one there to record it, might later + have been remembered as the moment that marked the coming of the new age + to Bidwell. The druggist, after he had handed out the cigar, looked at the + young man whose name had so suddenly come upon every one's lips and whom + he had known from babyhood, and then addressed him as no young man of his + age had ever before been addressed by an older citizen of the town. “Well, + good evening, Mr. Hunter,” he said respectfully. “And how do you find + yourself this evening?” + </p> + <p> + To the men who met him in the bank, Steve described the plant-setting + machine and the work it was intended to do. “It's the most perfect thing + of its kind I've ever seen,” he said with the air of one who has spent his + life as an expert examiner of machinery. Then, to the amazement of every + one, he produced sheets covered with figures estimating the cost of + manufacturing the machine. To the men present it seemed as though the + question as to the practicability of the machine had already been settled. + The sheets covered with figures made the actual beginning of manufacturing + seem near at hand. Without raising his voice and quite as a matter of + course, Steve proposed that the men present subscribe each three thousand + dollars to the stock of a promotion company, the money to be used to + perfect the machine and put it actually to work in the fields, while a + larger company for the building of a factory was being organized. For the + three thousand dollars each of the men would receive later six thousand + dollars in stock in the larger company. They would make one hundred per + cent. on their first investment. As for himself he owned the invention and + it was very valuable. He had already received many offers from other men + in other places. He wanted to stick to his own town and to the men who had + known him since he was a boy. He would retain a controlling interest in + the larger company and that would enable him to take care of his friends. + John Clark he proposed to make treasurer of the promotion company. Every + one could see he would be the right man. Gordon Hart should be manager. + Tom Butterworth could, if he could find time to give it, help him in the + actual organization of the larger company. He did not propose to do + anything in a small way. Much stock would have to be sold to farmers, as + well as to townspeople, and he could see no reason why a certain + commission for the selling of stock should not be paid. + </p> + <p> + The four men came out of the back room of the bank just as the storm that + had all day been threatening broke on Main Street. They stood together by + the front window and watched the people skurry along past the stores + homeward-bound from the circus. Farmers jumping into their wagons started + their horses away on the trot. The whole street was populous with people + shouting and running. To an observing person standing at the bank window, + Bidwell, Ohio, might have seemed no longer a quiet town filled with people + who lived quiet lives and thought quiet thoughts, but a tiny section of + some giant modern city. The sky was extraordinarily black as from the + smoke of a mill. The hurrying people might have been workmen escaping from + the mill at the end of the day. Clouds of dust swept through the street. + Steve Hunter's imagination was aroused. For some reason the black clouds + of dust and the running people gave him a tremendous sense of power. It + almost seemed to him that he had filled the sky with clouds and that + something latent in him had startled the people. He was anxious to get + away from the men who had just agreed to join him in his first great + industrial adventure. He felt that they were after all mere puppets, + creatures he could use, men who were being swept along by him as the + people running along the streets were being swept along by the storm. He + and the storm were in a way akin to each other. He had an impulse to be + alone with the storm, to walk dignified and upright in the face of it as + he felt that in the future he would walk dignified and upright in the face + of men. + </p> + <p> + Steve went out of the bank and into the street. The men inside shouted at + him, telling him he would get wet, but he paid no attention to their + warning. When he had gone and when his father had run quickly across the + street to his jewelry store, the three men who were left in the bank + looked at each other and laughed. Like the loiterers before Birdie Spinks' + drug-store, they wanted to belittle him and had an inclination to begin + calling him names; but for some reason they could not do it. Something had + happened to them. They looked at each other with a question in their eyes. + Each man waited for the others to speak. “Well, whatever happens we can't + lose much of anything,” John Clark finally observed. + </p> + <p> + And over the bridge and out into Turner's Pike walked Steve Hunter, the + embryo industrial magnate. Across the great stretches of fields that lay + beside the road the wind ran furiously, tearing leaves off trees, carrying + great volumes of dust before it. The hurrying black clouds in the sky + were, he fancied, like clouds of smoke pouring out of the chimneys of + factories owned by himself. In fancy also he saw his town become a city, + bathed in the smoke of his enterprises. As he looked abroad over the + fields swept by the storm of wind, he realized that the road along which + he walked would in time become a city street. “Pretty soon I'll get an + option on this land,” he said meditatively. An exalted mood took + possession of him and when he got to Pickleville he did not go into the + shop where Hugh and Allie Mulberry were at work, but turning, walked back + toward town in the mud and the driving rain. + </p> + <p> + It was a time when Steve wanted to be by himself, to feel himself the one + great man of the community. He had intended to go into the old pickle + factory and escape the rain, but when he got to the railroad tracks, had + turned back because he realized suddenly that in the presence of the + silent, intent inventor he had never been able to feel big. He wanted to + feel big on that evening and so, unmindful of the rain and of his hat, + that was caught up by the wind and blown away into a field, he went along + the deserted road thinking great thoughts. At a place where there were no + houses he stopped for a moment and lifted his tiny hands to the skies. + “I'm a man. I tell you what, I'm a man. Whatever any one says, I tell you + what, I'm a man,” he shouted into the void. + </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 VII + </h2> + <p> + Modern men and women who live in industrial cities are like mice that have + come out of the fields to live in houses that do not belong to them. They + live within the dark walls of the houses where only a dim light + penetrates, and so many have come that they grow thin and haggard with the + constant toil of getting food and warmth. Behind the walls the mice + scamper about in droves, and there is much squealing and chattering. Now + and then a bold mouse stands upon his hind legs and addresses the others. + He declares he will force his way through the walls and conquer the gods + who have built the house. “I will kill them,” he declares. “The mice shall + rule. You shall live in the light and the warmth. There shall be food for + all and no one shall go hungry.” + </p> + <p> + The little mice, gathered in the darkness out of sight in the great + houses, squeal with delight. After a time when nothing happens they become + sad and depressed. Their minds go back to the time when they lived in the + fields, but they do not go out of the walls of the houses, because long + living in droves has made them afraid of the silence of long nights and + the emptiness of skies. In the houses giant children are being reared. + When the children fight and scream in the houses and in the streets, the + dark spaces between the walls rumble with strange and appalling noises. + </p> + <p> + The mice are terribly afraid. Now and then a single mouse for a moment + escapes the general fear. A mood comes over such a one and a light comes + into his eyes. When the noises run through the houses he makes up stories + about them. “The horses of the sun are hauling wagon loads of days over + the tops of trees,” he says and looks quickly about to see if he has been + heard. When he discovers a female mouse looking at him he runs away with a + flip of his tail and the female follows. While other mice are repeating + his saying and getting some little comfort from it, he and the female + mouse find a warm dark corner and lie close together. It is because of + them that mice continue to be born to dwell within the walls of the + houses. + </p> + <p> + When the first small model of Hugh McVey's plant-setting machine had been + whittled out by the half-wit Allie Mulberry, it replaced the famous ship, + floating in the bottle, that for two or three years had been lying in the + window of Hunter's jewelry store. Allie was inordinately proud of the new + specimen of his handiwork. As he worked under Hugh's directions at a bench + in a corner of the deserted pickle factory, he was like a strange dog that + has at last found a master. He paid no attention to Steve Hunter who, with + the air of one bearing in his breast some gigantic secret, came in and + went out at the door twenty times a day, but kept his eyes on the silent + Hugh who sat at a desk and made drawings on sheets of paper. Allie tried + valiantly to follow the instructions given him and to understand what his + master was trying to do, and Hugh, finding himself unembarrassed by the + presence of the half-wit, sometimes spent hours trying to explain the + workings of some intricate part of the proposed machine. Hugh made each + part crudely out of great pieces of board and Allie reproduced the part in + miniature. Intelligence began to come into the eyes of the man who all his + life had whittled meaningless wooden chains, baskets formed out of peach + stones, and ships intended to float in bottles. Love and understanding + began a little to do for him what words could not have done. One day when + a part Hugh had fashioned would not work the half-wit himself made the + model of a part that worked perfectly. When Hugh incorporated it in the + machine, he was so happy that he could not sit still, and walked up and + down cooing with delight. + </p> + <p> + When the model of the machine appeared in the jeweler's window, a fever of + excitement took hold of the minds of the people. Every one declared + himself either for or against it. Something like a revolution took place. + Parties were formed. Men who had no interest in the success of the + invention, and in the nature of things could not have, were ready to fight + any one who dared to doubt its success. Among the farmers who drove into + town to see the new wonder were many who said the machine would not, could + not, work. “It isn't practical,” they said. Going off by themselves and + forming groups, they whispered warnings. A hundred objections sprang to + their lips. “See all the little wheels and cogs the thing has,” they said. + “You see it won't work. You take now in a field where there are stones and + old tree roots, maybe, sticking in the ground. There you'll see. Fools'll + buy the machine, yes. They'll spend their money. They'll put in plants. + The plants'll die. The money'll be wasted. There'll be no crop.” Old men, + who had been cabbage farmers in the country north of Bidwell all their + lives, and whose bodies were all twisted out of shape by the terrible + labor of the cabbage fields, came hobbling into town to look at the model + of the new machine. Their opinions were anxiously sought by the merchant, + the carpenter, the artisan, the doctor—by all the townspeople. + Almost without exception, they shook their heads in doubt. Standing on the + sidewalk before the jeweler's window, they stared at the machine and then, + turning to the crowd that had gathered about, they shook their heads in + doubt. “Huh,” they exclaimed, “a thing of wheels and cogs, eh? Well, so + young Hunter expects that thing to take the place of a man. He's a fool. I + always said that boy was a fool.” The merchants and townspeople, their + ardor a little dampened by the adverse decision of the men who knew + plant-setting, went off by themselves. They went into Birdie Spinks' + drugstore, but did not listen to the talk of Judge Hanby. “If the machine + works, the town'll wake up,” some one declared. “It means factories, new + people coming in, houses to be built, goods to be bought.” Visions of + suddenly acquired wealth began to float in their minds. Young Ed Hall, + apprentice to Ben Peeler the carpenter, grew angry. “Hell,” he exclaimed, + “why listen to a lot of damned old calamity howlers? It's the town's duty + to get out and plug for that machine. We got to wake up here. We got to + forget what we used to think about Steve Hunter. Anyway, he saw a chance, + didn't he? and he took it. I wish I was him. I only wish I was him. And + what about that fellow we thought was maybe just a telegraph operator? He + fooled us all slick, now didn't he? I tell you we ought to be proud to + have such men as him and Steve Hunter living in Bidwell. That's what I + say. I tell you it's the town's duty to get out and plug for them and for + that machine. If we don't, I know what'll happen. Steve Hunter's a live + one. I been thinking maybe he was. He'll take that invention and that + inventor of his to some other town or to a city. That's what he'll do. + Damn it, I tell you we got to get out and back them fellows up. That's + what I say.” + </p> + <p> + On the whole the town of Bidwell agreed with young Hall. The excitement + did not die, but grew every day more intense. Steve Hunter had a carpenter + come to his father's store and build in the show window facing Main + Street, a long shallow box formed in the shape of a field. This he filled + with pulverized earth and then by an arrangement of strings and pulleys + connected with a clockwork device the machine was pulled across the field. + In a receptacle at the top of the machine had been placed some dozens of + tiny plants no larger than pins. When the clockwork was started and the + strings pulled to imitate applied horse power, the machine crept slowly + forward, an arm came down and made a hole in the ground, the plant dropped + into the hole and spoon-like hands appeared and packed the earth about the + plant roots. At the top of the machine there was a tank filled with water, + and when the plant was set, a portion of water, nicely calculated as to + quantity, ran down a pipe and was deposited at the plant roots. + </p> + <p> + Evening after evening the machine crawled forward across the tiny field, + setting the plants in perfect order. Steve Hunter busied himself with it; + he did nothing else; and rumors of a great company to be formed in Bidwell + to manufacture the device were whispered about. Every evening a new tale + was told. Steve went to Cleveland for a day and it was said that Bidwell + was to lose its chance, that big moneyed men had induced Steve to take his + factory project to the city. Hearing Ed Hall berate a farmer who doubted + the practicability of the machine, Steve took him aside and talked to him. + “We're going to need live young men who know how to handle other men for + jobs as superintendent and things like that,” he said. “I make no + promises. I only want to tell you that I like live young fellows who can + see the hole in a bushel basket. I like that kind. I like to see them get + up in the world.” + </p> + <p> + Steve heard the farmers continually expressing their skepticism about + making the plants that had been set by the machine grow into maturity, and + had the carpenter build another tiny field in a side window of the store. + He had the machine moved and plants set in the new field. He let these + grow. When some of the plants showed signs of dying he came secretly at + night and replaced them with sturdier shoots so that the miniature field + showed always a brave, vigorous front to the world. + </p> + <p> + Bidwell became convinced that the most rigorous of all forms of human + labor practiced by its people was at an end. Steve made and had hung in + the store window a large sheet showing the relative cost of planting an + acre of cabbage with the machine, and by what was already called “the old + way,” by hand. Then he formally announced that a stock company would be + formed in Bidwell and that every one would have a chance to get into it. + He printed an article in the weekly paper in which he said that many + offers had come to him to take his project to the city or to other and + larger towns. “Mr. McVey, the celebrated inventor, and I both want to + stick to our own people,” he said, regardless of the fact that Hugh knew + nothing of the article and had never been taken into the lives of the + people addressed. A day was set for the beginning of the taking of stock + subscriptions, and in private conversations Steve whispered of huge + profits to be made. The matter was talked over in every household and + plans were made for raising money to buy stock. John Clark agreed to lend + a certain percentage on the value of the town property and Steve secured a + long-time option on all the land facing Turner's Pike clear down to + Pickleville. When the town heard of this it was filled with wonder. “Gee,” + the loiterers before the store exclaimed, “old Bidwell is going to grow + up. Now look at that, will you? There are going to be houses clear down to + Pickleville.” Hugh went to Cleveland to see about having one of his new + machines made in steel and wood and in a size that would permit its actual + use in the field. He returned, a hero in the town's eyes. His silence made + it possible for the people, who could not entirely forget their former + lack of faith in Steve, to let their minds take hold of something they + thought was truly heroic. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, after going again to see the machine in the window of the + jewelry store, crowds of young and old men wandered down along Turner's + Pike to the Wheeling Station where a new man had come to replace Hugh. + They hardly saw the evening train when it came in. Like devotees before a + shrine they gazed with something like worship in their eyes at the old + pickle factory, and when by chance Hugh came among them, unconscious of + the sensation he was creating, they became embarrassed as he was always + embarrassed by their presence. Every one dreamed of becoming suddenly rich + by the power of the man's mind. They thought of him as thinking always + great thoughts. To be sure, Steve Hunter might be more than half bluff and + blow and pretense, but there was no bluff and blow about Hugh. He didn't + waste his time in words. He thought, and out of his thought sprang almost + unbelievable wonders. + </p> + <p> + In every part of the town of Bidwell, the new impulse toward progress was + felt. Old men, who had become settled in their ways and who had begun to + pass their days in a sort of sleepy submission to the idea of the gradual + passing away of their lives, awoke and went into Main Street in the + evening to argue with skeptical farmers. Beside Ed Hall, who had become a + Demosthenes on the subject of progress and the duty of the town to awake + and stick to Steve Hunter and the machine, a dozen other men held forth on + the street corners. Oratorical ability awoke in the most unexpected + places. Rumors flew from lip to lip. It was said that within a year + Bidwell was to have a brick factory covering acres of ground, that there + would be paved streets and electric lights. + </p> + <p> + Oddly enough the most persistent decrier of the new spirit in Bidwell was + the man who, if the machine turned out to be a success, would profit most + from its use. Ezra French, the profane, refused to be convinced. When + pressed by Ed Hall, Dr. Robinson, and other enthusiasts, he fell back upon + the word of that God whose name had been so much upon his lips. The + decrier of God became the defender of God. “The thing, you see, can't be + done. It ain't all right. Something awful'll happen. The rains won't come + and the plants'll dry up and die. It'll be like it was in Egypt in the + Bible times,” he declared. The old farmer with the twisted leg stood + before the crowd in the drug-store and proclaimed the truth of God's word. + “Don't it say in the Bible men shall work and labor by the sweat of their + brows?” he asked sharply. “Can a machine like that sweat? You know it + can't. And it can't do the work either. No, siree. Men've got to do it. + That's the way things have been since Cain killed Abel in the Garden of + Eden. God intended it so and there can't no telegraph operator or no smart + young squirt like Steve Hunter—fellows in a town like this—set + themselves up before me to change the workings of God's laws. It can't be + done, and if it could be done it would be wicked and ungodly to try. I'll + have nothing to do with it. It ain't right. That's what I say and all your + smart talk ain't a-going to change me.” + </p> + <p> + It was in the year 1892 that Steve Hunter organized the first industrial + enterprise that came to Bidwell. It was called the Bidwell Plant-Setting + Machine Company, and in the end it turned out to be a failure. A large + factory was built on the river bank facing the New York Central tracks. It + is now occupied by an enterprise called the Hunter Bicycle Company and is + what in industrial parlance is called a live, going concern. + </p> + <p> + For two years Hugh worked faithfully trying to perfect the first of his + inventions. After the working models of the plant-setter were brought from + Cleveland, two trained mechanics were employed to come to Bidwell and work + with him. In the old pickle factory an engine was installed and lathes and + other tool-making machines were set up. For a long time Steve, John Clark, + Tom Butterworth, and the other enthusiastic promoters of the enterprise + had no doubt as to the final outcome. Hugh wanted to perfect the machine, + had his heart set on doing the job he had set out to do, but he had then + and, for that matter, he continued during his whole life to have but + little conception of the import in the lives of the people about him of + the things he did. Day after day, with two city mechanics and Allie + Mulberry to drive the team of horses Steve had provided, he went into a + rented field north of the factory. Weak places developed in the + complicated mechanism, and new and stronger parts were made. For a time + the machine worked perfectly. Then other defects appeared and other parts + had to be strengthened and changed. The machine became too heavy to be + handled by one team. It would not work when the soil was either too wet or + too dry. It worked perfectly in both wet and dry sand but would do nothing + in clay. During the second year and when the factory was nearing + completion and much machinery had been installed, Hugh went to Steve and + told him of what he thought were the limitations of the machine. He was + depressed by his failure, but in working with the machine, he felt he had + succeeded in educating himself as he never could have done by studying + books. Steve decided that the factory should be started and some of the + machines made and sold. “You keep the two men you have and don't talk,” he + said. “The machine may yet turn out to be better than you think. One can + never tell. I have made it worth their while to keep still.” On the + afternoon of the day on which he had his talk with Hugh, Steve called the + four men who were associated with him in the promotion of the enterprise + into the back room of the bank and told them of the situation. “We're up + against something here,” he said. “If we let word of the failure of this + machine get out, where'll we be? It is a case of the survival of the + fittest.” + </p> + <p> + Steve explained his plan to the men in the room. After all, he said, there + was no occasion for any of them to get excited. He had taken them into the + thing and he proposed to get them out. “I'm that kind of a man,” he said + pompously. In a way, he declared, he was glad things had turned out as + they had. The four men had little actual money invested. They had all + tried honestly to do something for the town and he would see to it that + everything came out all right. “We'll be honest with every one,” he said. + “The stock in the company has all been sold. We'll make some of the + machines and sell them. If they're failures, as this inventor thinks, it + will not be our fault. The plant, you see, will have to be sold cheap. + When that times comes we five will have to save ourselves and the future + of the town. The machinery we have bought, is, you see, iron and wood + working machinery, the very latest kind. It can be used to make some other + thing. If the plant-setting machine is a failure we'll simply buy up the + plant at a low price and make something else. Perhaps it'll be better for + the town to have the entire stock control in our hands. You see we few men + have got to run things here. It's going to be on our shoulders to see that + labor is employed. A lot of small stock-holders are a nuisance. As man to + man I'm going to ask each of you not to sell his stock, but if any one + comes to you and asks about its value, I expect you to be loyal to our + enterprise. I'll begin looking about for something to replace the + plant-setting machine, and when the shop closes we'll start right up + again. It isn't every day men get a chance to sell themselves a fine plant + full of new machinery as we can do in a year or so now.” + </p> + <p> + Steve went out of the bank and left the four men staring at each other. + Then his father got up and went out. The other men, all connected with the + bank, arose and wandered out. “Well,” said John Clark, somewhat heavily, + “he's a smart man. I suppose after all it is up to us to stick with him + and with the town. As he says, labor has got to be employed. I can't see + that it does a carpenter or a farmer any good to own a little stock in a + factory. It only takes their minds off their work. They have foolish + dreams of getting rich and don't attend to their own affairs. It would be + an actual benefit to the town if a few men owned the factory.” The banker + lighted a cigar and going to a window stared out into the main street of + Bidwell. Already the town had changed. Three new brick buildings were + being erected on Main Street within sight of the bank window. Workmen + employed in the building of the factory had come to town to live, and many + new houses were being built. Everywhere things were astir. The stock of + the company had been oversubscribed, and almost every day men came into + the bank and spoke of wanting to buy more. Only the day before a farmer + had come in with two thousand dollars. The banker's mind began to secrete + the poison of his age. “After all, it's men like Steve Hunter, Tom + Butterworth, Gordon Hart, and myself that have to take care of things, and + to be in shape to do it we have to look out for ourselves,” he + soliloquized. Again he stared into Main Street. Tom Butterworth went out + at the front door. He wanted to be by himself and think his own thoughts. + Gordon Hart returned to the empty back room and standing by a window + looked out into an alleyway. His thoughts ran in the same channel as those + that played through the mind of the bank president. He also thought of men + who wanted to buy stock in the company that was doomed to failure. He + began to doubt the judgment of Hugh McVey in the matter of failure. “Such + fellows are always pessimists,” he told himself. From the window at the + back of the bank, he could see over the roofs of a row of small sheds and + down a residence street to where two new workingmen's houses were being + built. His thoughts only differed from the thoughts of John Clark because + he was a younger man. “A few men of the younger generation, like Steve and + myself will have to take hold of things,” he muttered aloud. “We'll have + to have money to work with. We'll have to take the responsibility of the + ownership of money.” + </p> + <p> + At the front of the bank John Clark puffed at his cigar. He felt like a + soldier weighing the chances of battle. Vaguely he thought of himself as a + general, a kind of U. S. Grant of industry. The lives and happiness of + many people, he told himself, depended on the clear working of his brain. + “Well,” he thought, “when factories start coming to a town and it begins + to grow as this town is growing no man can stop it. The fellow who thinks + of individual men, little fellows with their savings invested, who may be + hurt by an industrial failure, is just a weakling. Men have to face the + duties life brings. The few men who see clearly have to think first of + themselves. They have to save themselves in order that they may save + others.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Things kept on the stir in Bidwell and the gods of chance played into the + hands of Steve Hunter. Hugh invented an apparatus for lifting a loaded + coal-car off the railroad tracks, carrying it high up into the air and + dumping its contents into a chute. By its use an entire car of coal could + be emptied with a roaring rush into the hold of a ship or the engine room + of a factory. A model of the new invention was made and a patent secured. + Then Steve Hunter carried it off to New York. He received two hundred + thousand dollars in cash for it, half of which went to Hugh. Steve's faith + in the inventive genius of the Missourian was renewed and strengthened. He + looked forward with a feeling almost approaching pleasure to the time when + the town would be forced to face the fact that the plant-setting machine + was a failure, and the factory with its new machinery would have to be + thrown on the market. He knew that his associates in the promotion of the + enterprise were secretly selling their stock. One day he went to Cleveland + and had a long talk with a banker there. Hugh was at work on a + corn-cutting machine and already he had secured an option on it. “Perhaps + when the time comes to sell the factory there'll be more than one bidder,” + he told Ernestine, the soap maker's daughter, who had married him within a + month after the sale of the car-unloading device. He grew indignant when + he told her of the disloyalty of the two men in the bank, and the rich + farmer, Tom Butterworth. “They're selling their shares and letting the + small stock-holders lose their money,” he declared. “I told 'em not to do + it. Now if anything happens to spoil their plans they'll not have me to + blame.” + </p> + <p> + Nearly a year had been spent in stirring up the people of Bidwell to the + point of becoming investors. Then things began to stir. The ground was + broken for the erection of the factory. No one knew of the difficulties + that had been encountered in attempting to perfect the machine and word + was passed about that in actual tests in the fields it had proven itself + entirely practical. The skeptical farmers who came into town on Saturdays + were laughed at by the town enthusiasts. A field, that had been planted + during one of the brief periods when the machine finding ideal soil + conditions had worked perfectly, was left to grow. As when he operated the + tiny model in the store window, Steve took no chances. He engaged Ed Hall + to go at night and replace the plants that did not live. “It's fair + enough,” he explained to Ed. “A hundred things can cause the plants to + die, but if they die it'll be blamed on the machine. What will become of + the town if we don't believe in the thing we're going to manufacture + here?” + </p> + <p> + The crowds of people, who in the evenings walked out along Turner's Pike + to look at the field with its long rows of sturdy young cabbages, moved + restlessly about and talked of the new days. From the field they went + along the railroad tracks to the site of the factory. The brick walls + began to mount up into the sky. Machinery began to arrive and was housed + under temporary sheds against the time when it could be installed. An + advance horde of workmen came to town and new faces appeared on Main + Street in the evening. The thing that was happening in Bidwell happened in + towns all over the Middle West. Out through the coal and iron regions of + Pennsylvania, into Ohio and Indiana, and on westward into the States + bordering on the Mississippi River, industry crept. Gas and oil were + discovered in Ohio and Indiana. Over night, towns grew into cities. A + madness took hold of the minds of the people. Villages like Lima and + Findlay, Ohio, and like Muncie and Anderson in Indiana, became small + cities within a few weeks. To some of these places, so anxious were the + people to get to them and to invest their money, excursion trains were + run. Town lots that a few weeks before the discovery of oil or gas could + have been bought for a few dollars sold for thousands. Wealth seemed to be + spurting out of the very earth. On farms in Indiana and Ohio giant gas + wells blew the drilling machinery out of the ground, and the fuel so + essential to modern industrial development rushed into the open. A wit, + standing in the presence of one of the roaring gas wells exclaimed, “Papa, + Earth has indigestion; he has gas on his stomach. His face will be covered + with pimples.” + </p> + <p> + Having, before the factories came, no market for the gas, the wells were + lighted and at night great torches of flame lit the skies. Pipes were laid + on the surface of the ground and by a day's work a laborer earned enough + to heat his house at tropical heat through an entire winter. Farmers + owning oil-producing land went to bed in the evening poor and owing money + at the bank, and awoke in the morning rich. They moved into the towns and + invested their money in the factories that sprang up everywhere. In one + county in southern Michigan, over five hundred patents for woven wire farm + fencing were taken out in one year, and almost every patent was a magnet + about which a company for the manufacture of fence formed itself. A vast + energy seemed to come out of the breast of earth and infect the people. + Thousands of the most energetic men of the middle States wore themselves + out in forming companies, and when the companies failed, immediately + formed others. In the fast-growing towns, men who were engaged in + organizing companies representing a capital of millions lived in houses + thrown hurriedly together by carpenters who, before the time of the great + awakening, were engaged in building barns. It was a time of hideous + architecture, a time when thought and learning paused. Without music, + without poetry, without beauty in their lives or impulses, a whole people, + full of the native energy and strength of lives lived in a new land, + rushed pell-mell into a new age. A man in Ohio, who had been a dealer in + horses, made a million dollars out of a patent churn he had bought for the + price of a farm horse, took his wife to visit Europe and in Paris bought a + painting for fifty thousand dollars. In another State of the Middle West, + a man who sold patent medicine from door to door through the country began + dealing in oil leases, became fabulously rich, bought himself three daily + newspapers, and before he had reached the age of thirty-five succeeded in + having himself elected Governor of his State. In the glorification of his + energy his unfitness as a statesman was forgotten. + </p> + <p> + In the days before the coming of industry, before the time of the mad + awakening, the towns of the Middle West were sleepy places devoted to the + practice of the old trades, to agriculture and to merchandising. In the + morning the men of the towns went forth to work in the fields or to the + practice of the trade of carpentry, horse-shoeing, wagon making, harness + repairing, and the making of shoes and clothing. They read books and + believed in a God born in the brains of men who came out of a civilization + much like their own. On the farms and in the houses in the towns the men + and women worked together toward the same ends in life. They lived in + small frame houses set on the plains like boxes, but very substantially + built. The carpenter who built a farmer's house differentiated it from the + barn by putting what he called scroll work up under the eaves and by + building at the front a porch with carved posts. After one of the poor + little houses had been lived in for a long time, after children had been + born and men had died, after men and women had suffered and had moments of + joy together in the tiny rooms under the low roofs, a subtle change took + place. The houses became almost beautiful in their old humanness. Each of + the houses began vaguely to shadow forth the personality of the people who + lived within its walls. + </p> + <p> + In the farmhouses and in the houses on the side streets in the villages, + life awoke at dawn. Back of each of the houses there was a barn for the + horses and cows, and sheds for pigs and chickens. At daylight a chorus of + neighs, squeals, and cries broke the silence. Boys and men came out of the + houses. They stood in the open spaces before the barns and stretched their + bodies like sleepy animals. The arms extended upward seemed to be + supplicating the gods for fair days, and the fair days came. The men and + boys went to a pump beside the house and washed their faces and hands in + the cold water. In the kitchens there was the smell and sound of the + cooking of food. The women also were astir. The men went into the barns to + feed the animals and then hurried to the houses to be themselves fed. A + continual grunting sound came from the sheds where pigs were eating corn, + and over the houses a contented silence brooded. + </p> + <p> + After the morning meal men and animals went together to the fields and to + the doing of their tasks, and in the houses the women mended clothes, put + fruit in cans against the coming of winter and talked of woman's affairs. + On the streets of the towns on fair days lawyers, doctors, the officials + of the county courts, and the merchants walked about in their shirt + sleeves. The house painter went along with his ladder on his shoulder. In + the stillness there could be heard the hammers of the carpenters building + a new house for the son of a merchant who had married the daughter of a + blacksmith. A sense of quiet growth awoke in sleeping minds. It was the + time for art and beauty to awake in the land. + </p> + <p> + Instead, the giant, Industry, awoke. Boys, who in the schools had read of + Lincoln, walking for miles through the forest to borrow his first book, + and of Garfield, the towpath lad who became president, began to read in + the newspapers and magazines of men who by developing their faculty for + getting and keeping money had become suddenly and overwhelmingly rich. + Hired writers called these men great, and there was no maturity of mind in + the people with which to combat the force of the statement, often + repeated. Like children the people believed what they were told. + </p> + <p> + While the new factory was being built with the carefully saved dollars of + the people, young men from Bidwell went out to work in other places. After + oil and gas were discovered in neighboring states, they went to the + fast-growing towns and came home telling wonder tales. In the boom towns + men earned four, five and even six dollars a day. In secret and when none + of the older people were about, they told of adventures on which they had + gone in the new places; of how, attracted by the flood of money, women + came from the cities; and the times they had been with these women. Young + Harley Parsons, whose father was a shoemaker and who had learned the + blacksmith trade, went to work in one of the new oil fields. He came home + wearing a fancy silk vest and astonished his fellows by buying and smoking + ten-cent cigars. His pockets were bulging with money. “I'm not going to + stay long in this town, you can bet on that,” he declared one evening as + he stood, surrounded by a group of admirers before Fanny Twist's Millinery + Shop on lower Main Street. “I have been with a Chinese woman, and an + Italian, and with one from South America.” He took a puff of his cigar and + spat on the sidewalk. “I'm out to get what I can out of life,” he + declared. “I'm going back and I'm going to make a record. Before I get + through I'm going to be with a woman of every nationality on earth, that's + what I'm going to do.” + </p> + <p> + Joseph Wainsworth the harness maker, who had been the first man in Bidwell + to feel the touch of the heavy finger of industrialism, could not get over + the effect of the conversation had with Butterworth, the farmer who had + asked him to repair harnesses made by machines in a factory. He became a + silent disgruntled man and muttered as he went about his work in the shop. + When Will Sellinger his apprentice threw up his place and went to + Cleveland he did not get another boy but for a time worked alone in the + shop. He got the name of being disagreeable, and on winter afternoons the + farmers no longer came into his place to loaf. Being a sensitive man, Joe + felt like a pigmy, a tiny thing walking always in the presence of a giant + that might at any moment and by a whim destroy him. All his life he had + been somewhat off-hand with his customers. “If they don't like my work, + let 'em go to the devil,” he said to his apprentices. “I know my trade and + I don't have to bow down to any one here.” + </p> + <p> + When Steve Hunter organized the Bidwell Plant-Setting Machine Company, the + harness maker put his savings, twelve hundred dollars, into the stock of + the company. One day, during the time when the factory was building, he + heard that Steve had paid twelve hundred dollars for a new lathe that had + just arrived by freight and had been set on the floor of the uncompleted + building. The promoter had told a farmer that the lathe would do the work + of a hundred men, and the farmer had come into Joe's shop and repeated the + statement. It stuck in Joe's mind and he came to believe that the twelve + hundred dollars he had invested in stock had been used for the purchase of + the lathe. It was money he had earned in a long lifetime of effort and it + had now bought a machine that would do the work of a hundred men. Already + his money had increased by a hundred fold and he wondered why he could not + be happy about the matter. On some days he was happy, and then his + happiness was followed by an odd fit of depression. Suppose, after all, + the plant-setting machine wouldn't work? What then could be done with the + lathe, with the machine bought with his money? + </p> + <p> + One evening after dark and without saying anything to his wife, he went + down along Turner's Pike to the old factory at Pickleville where Hugh with + the half-wit Allie Mulberry, and the two mechanics from the city, were + striving to correct the faults in the plant-setting machine. Joe wanted to + look at the tall gaunt man from the West, and had some notion of trying to + get into conversation with him and of asking his opinion of the + possibilities of the success of the new machine. The man of the age of + flesh and blood wanted to walk in the presence of the man who belonged to + the new age of iron and steel. When he got to the factory it was dark and + on an express truck in front of the Wheeling Station the two city workmen + sat smoking their evening pipes. Joe walked past them to the station door + and then returned along the platform and got again into Turner's Pike. He + stumbled along the path beside the road and presently saw Hugh McVey + coming toward him. It was one of the evenings when Hugh, overcome with + loneliness, and puzzled that his new position in the town's life did not + bring him any closer to people, had gone to town to walk through Main + Street, half hoping some one would break through his embarrassment and + enter into conversation with him. + </p> + <p> + When the harness maker saw Hugh walking in the path, he crept into a fence + corner, and crouching down, watched the man as Hugh had watched the French + boys at work in the cabbage fields. Strange thoughts came into his head. + He thought the extraordinarily tall figure before him in some way + terrible. He became childishly angry and for a moment thought that if he + had a stone in his hand he would throw it at the man, the workings of + whose brain had so upset his own life. Then as the figure of Hugh went + away along the path another mood came. “I have worked all my life for + twelve hundred dollars, for money that will buy one machine that this man + thinks nothing about,” he muttered aloud. “Perhaps I'll get more money + than I invested: Steve Hunter says maybe I will. If machines kill the + harness-making trade what's the difference? I'll be all right. The thing + to do is to get in with the new times, to wake up, that's the ticket. With + me it's like with every one else: nothing venture nothing gain.” + </p> + <p> + Joe crawled out of the fence corner and went stealthily along the road + behind Hugh. A fervor seized him and he thought he would like to creep + close and touch with his finger the hem of Hugh's coat. Afraid to try + anything so bold his mind took a new turn. He ran in the darkness along + the road toward town and, when he had crossed the bridge and come to the + New York Central tracks, turned west and went along the tracks until he + came to the new factory. In the darkness the half completed walls stuck up + into the sky, and all about were piles of building materials. The night + had been dark and cloudy, but now the moon began to push its way through + the clouds. Joe crawled over a pile of bricks and through a window into + the building. He felt his way along the walls until he came to a mass of + iron covered by a rubber blanket. He was sure it must be the lathe his + money had bought, the machine that was to do the work of a hundred men and + that was to make him comfortably rich in his old age. No one had spoken of + any other machine having been brought in on the factory floor. Joe knelt + on the floor and put his hands about the heavy iron legs of the machine. + “What a strong thing it is! It will not break easily,” he thought. He had + an impulse to do something he knew would be foolish, to kiss the iron legs + of the machine or to say a prayer as he knelt before it. Instead he got to + his feet and crawling out again through the window, went home. He felt + renewed and full of new courage because of the experiences of the night, + but when he got to his own house and stood at the door outside, he heard + his neighbor, David Chapman, a wheelwright who worked in Charlie Collins' + wagon shop, praying in his bedroom before an open window. Joe listened for + a moment and, for some reason he couldn't understand, his new-found faith + was destroyed by what he heard. David Chapman, a devout Methodist, was + praying for Hugh McVey and for the success of his invention. Joe knew his + neighbor had also invested his savings in the stock of the new company. He + had thought that he alone was doubtful of success, but it was apparent + that doubt had come also into the mind of the wheelwright. The pleading + voice of the praying man, as it broke the stillness of the night, cut + across and for the moment utterly destroyed his confidence. “O God, help + the man Hugh McVey to remove every obstacle that stands in his way,” David + Chapman prayed. “Make the plant-setting machine a success. Bring light + into the dark places. O Lord, help Hugh McVey, thy servant, to build + successfully the plant-setting machine.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK THREE + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + When Clara Butterworth, the daughter of Tom Butterworth, was eighteen + years old she graduated from the town high school. Until the summer of her + seventeenth year, she was a tall, strong, hard-muscled girl, shy in the + presence of strangers and bold with people she knew well. Her eyes were + extraordinarily gentle. + </p> + <p> + The Butterworth house on Medina Road stood back of an apple orchard and + there was a second orchard beside the house. The Medina Road ran south + from Bidwell and climbed gradually upward toward a country of low hills, + and from the side porch of the Butterworth house the view was magnificent. + The house itself was a large brick affair with a cupola on top and was + considered at that time the most pretentious place in the county. + </p> + <p> + Behind the house were several great barns for the horses and cattle. Most + of Tom Butterworth's farm land lay north of Bidwell, and some of his + fields were five miles from his home; but as he did not himself work the + land it did not matter. The farms were rented to men who worked them on + shares. Beside the business of farming Tom carried on other affairs. He + owned two hundred acres of hillside land near his house and, with the + exception of a few fields and a strip of forest land, it was devoted to + the grazing of sheep and cattle. Milk and cream were delivered each + morning to the householders of Bidwell by two wagons driven by his + employees. A half mile to the west of his residence there was a slaughter + house on a side road and at the edge of a field where cattle were killed + for the Bidwell market. Tom owned it and employed the men who did the + killing. A creek that came down out of the hills through one of the fields + past his house had been dammed, and south of the pond there was an ice + house. He also supplied the town with ice. In his orchards beneath the + trees stood more than a hundred beehives and every year he shipped honey + to Cleveland. The farmer himself was a man who appeared to do nothing, but + his shrewd mind was always at work. In the summer throughout the long + sleepy afternoons, he drove about over the county buying sheep and cattle, + stopping to trade horses with some farmer, dickering for new pieces of + land, everlastingly busy. He had one passion. He loved fast trotting + horses, but would not humor himself by owning one. “It's a game that only + gets you into trouble and debt,” he said to his friend John Clark, the + banker. “Let other men own the horses and go broke racing them. I'll go to + the races. Every fall I can go to Cleveland to the grand circuit. If I go + crazy about a horse I can bet ten dollars he'll win. If he doesn't I'm out + ten dollars. If I owned him I would maybe be out hundreds for the expense + of training and all that.” The farmer was a tall man with a white beard, + broad shoulders, and rather small slender white hands. He chewed tobacco, + but in spite of the habit kept both himself and his white beard + scrupulously clean. His wife had died while he was yet in the full vigor + of life, but he had no eye for women. His mind, he once told one of his + friends, was too much occupied with his own affairs and with thoughts of + the fine horses he had seen to concern itself with any such nonsense. + </p> + <p> + For many years the farmer did not appear to pay much attention to his + daughter Clara, who was his only child. Throughout her childhood she was + under the care of one of his five sisters, all of whom except the one who + lived with him and managed his household being comfortably married. His + own wife had been a somewhat frail woman, but his daughter had inherited + his own physical strength. + </p> + <p> + When Clara was seventeen, she and her father had a quarrel that eventually + destroyed their relationship. The quarrel began late in July. It was a + busy summer on the farms and more than a dozen men were employed about the + barns, in the delivery of ice and milk to the town, and at the + slaughtering pens a half mile away. During that summer something happened + to the girl. For hours she sat in her own room in the house reading books, + or lay in a hammock in the orchard and looked up through the fluttering + leaves of the apple trees at the summer sky. A light, strangely soft and + enticing, sometimes came into her eyes. Her figure that had been boyish + and strong began to change. As she went about the house she sometimes + smiled at nothing. Her aunt hardly noticed what was happening to her, but + her father, who all her life had seemed hardly to take account of her + existence, was interested. In her presence he began to feel like a young + man. As in the days of his courtship of her mother and before the + possessive passion in him destroyed his ability to love, he began to feel + vaguely that life about him was full of significance. Sometimes in the + afternoon when he went for one of his long drives through the country he + asked his daughter to accompany him, and although he had little to say a + kind of gallantry crept into his attitude toward the awakening girl. While + she was in the buggy with him, he did not chew tobacco, and after one or + two attempts to indulge in the habit without having the smoke blow in her + face, he gave up smoking his pipe during the drives. + </p> + <p> + Always before that summer Clara had spent the months when there was no + school in the company of the farm hands. She rode on wagons, visited the + barns, and when she grew weary of the company of older people, went into + town to spend an afternoon with one of her friends among the town girls. + </p> + <p> + In the summer of her seventeenth year she did none of these things. At the + table she ate in silence. The Butterworth household was at that time run + on the old-fashioned American plan, and the farm hands, the men who drove + the ice and milk wagons and even the men who killed and dressed cattle and + sheep, ate at the same table with Tom Butterworth, his sister, who was the + housekeeper, and his daughter. Three hired girls were employed in the + house and after all had been served they also came and took their places + at table. The older men among the farmer's employees, many of whom had + known her from childhood, had got into the habit of teasing the daughter + of the house. They made comments concerning town boys, young fellows who + clerked in stores or who were apprenticed to some tradesman and one of + whom had perhaps brought the girl home at night from a school party or + from one of the affairs called “socials” that were held at the town + churches. After they had eaten in the peculiar silent intent way common to + hungry laborers, the farm hands leaned back in their chairs and winked at + each other. Two of them began an elaborate conversation touching on some + incident in the girl's life. One of the older men, who had been on the + farm for many years and who had a reputation among the others of being + something of a wit, chuckled softly. He began to talk, addressing no one + in particular. The man's name was Jim Priest, and although the Civil War + had come upon the country when he was past forty, he had been a soldier. + In Bidwell he was looked upon as something of a rascal, but his employer + was very fond of him. The two men often talked together for hours + concerning the merits of well known trotting horses. In the war Jim had + been what was called a bounty man, and it was whispered about town that he + had also been a deserter and a bounty jumper. He did not go to town with + the other men on Saturday afternoons, and had never attempted to get into + the Bidwell chapter of the G. A. R. On Saturdays when the other farm hands + washed, shaved and dressed themselves in their Sunday clothes preparatory + to the weekly flight to town, he called one of them into the barn, slipped + a quarter into his hand, and said, “Bring me a half pint and don't you + forget it.” On Sunday afternoons he crawled into the hayloft of one of the + barns, drank his weekly portion of whisky, got drunk, and sometimes did + not appear again until time to go to work on Monday morning. In the fall + Jim took his savings and went to spend a week at the grand circuit + trotting meeting at Cleveland, where he bought a costly present for his + employer's daughter and then bet the rest of his money on the races. When + he was lucky he stayed on in Cleveland, drinking and carousing until his + winnings were gone. + </p> + <p> + It was Jim Priest who always led the attacks of teasing at the table, and + in the summer of her seventeenth year, when she was no longer in the mood + for such horse-play, it was Jim who brought the practice to an end. At the + table Jim leaned back in his chair, stroked his red bristly beard, now + rapidly graying, looked out of a window over Clara's head, and told a tale + concerning an attempt at suicide on the part of a young man in love with + Clara. He said the young man, a clerk in a Bidwell store, had taken a pair + of trousers from a shelf, tied one leg about his neck and the other to a + bracket in the wall. Then he jumped off a counter and had only been saved + from death because a town girl, passing the store, had seen him and had + rushed in and cut him down. “Now what do you think of that?” he cried. “He + was in love with our Clara, I tell you.” + </p> + <p> + After the telling of the tale, Clara got up from the table and ran out of + the room. The farm hands joined by her father laughed heartily. Her aunt + shook her finger at Jim Priest, the hero of the occasion. “Why don't you + let her alone?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “She'll never get married if she stays here where you make fun of every + young man who pays her any attention.” At the door Clara stopped and, + turning, put out her tongue at Jim Priest. Another roar of laughter arose. + Chairs were scraped along the floor and the men filed out of the house to + go back to the work in the barns and about the farm. + </p> + <p> + In the summer when the change came over her Clara sat at the table and did + not hear the tales told by Jim Priest. She thought the farm hands who ate + so greedily were vulgar, a notion she had never had before, and wished she + did not have to eat with them. One afternoon as she lay in the hammock in + the orchard, she heard several of the men in a nearby barn discussing the + change that had come over her. Jim Priest was explaining what had + happened. “Our fun's over with Clara,” he said. “Now we'll have to treat + her in a new way. She's no longer a kid. We'll have to let her alone or + pretty soon she won't speak to any of us. It's a thing that happens when a + girl begins to think about being a woman. The sap has begun to run up the + tree.” + </p> + <p> + The puzzled girl lay in the hammock and looked up at the sky. She thought + about Jim Priest's words and tried to understand what he meant. Sadness + crept over her and tears came into her eyes. Although she did not know + what the old man meant by the words about the sap and the tree, she did, + in a detached subconscious way, understand something of the import of the + words, and she was grateful for the thoughtfulness that had led to his + telling the others to stop trying to tease her at the table. The half + worn-out old farm hand, with the bristly beard and the strong old body, + became a figure full of significance to her mind. She remembered with + gratitude that, in spite of all of his teasing, Jim Priest had never said + anything that had in any way hurt her. In the new mood that had come upon + her that meant much. A greater hunger for understanding, love, and + friendliness took possession of her. She did not think of turning to her + father or to her aunt, with whom she had never talked of anything intimate + or close to herself, but turned instead to the crude old man. A hundred + minor points in the character of Jim Priest she had never thought of + before came sharply into her mind. In the barns he had never mistreated + the animals as the other farm hands sometimes did. When on Sunday + afternoons he was drunk and went staggering through the barns, he did not + strike the horses or swear at them. She wondered if it would be possible + for her to talk to Jim Priest, to ask him questions about life and people + and what he meant by his words regarding the sap and the tree. The farm + hand was old and unmarried. She wondered if in his youth he had ever loved + a woman. She decided he had. His words about the sap were, she was sure, + in some way connected with the idea of love. How strong his hands were. + They were gnarled and rough, but there was something beautifully powerful + about them. She half wished the old man had been her father. In his youth, + in the darkness at night or when he was alone with a girl, perhaps in a + quiet wood in the late afternoon when the sun was going down, he had put + his hands on her shoulders. He had drawn the girl to him. He had kissed + her. + </p> + <p> + Clara jumped quickly out of the hammock and walked about under the trees + in the orchard. Her thoughts of Jim Priest's youth startled her. It was as + though she had walked suddenly into a room where a man and woman were + making love. Her cheeks burned and her hands trembled. As she walked + slowly through the clumps of grass and weeds that grew between the trees + where the sunlight struggled through, bees coming home to the hives + heavily laden with honey flew in droves about her head. There was + something heady and purposeful about the song of labor that arose out of + the beehives. It got into her blood and her step quickened. The words of + Jim Priest that kept running through her mind seemed a part of the same + song the bees were singing. “The sap has begun to run up the tree,” she + repeated aloud. How significant and strange the words seemed! They were + the kind of words a lover might use in speaking to his beloved. She had + read many novels, but they contained no such words. It was better so. It + was better to hear them from human lips. Again she thought of Jim Priest's + youth and boldly wished he were still young. She told herself that she + would like to see him young and married to a beautiful young woman. She + stopped by a fence that looked out upon a hillside meadow. The sun seemed + extraordinarily bright, the grass in the meadow greener than she had ever + seen it before. Two birds in a tree nearby made love to each other. The + female flew madly about and was pursued by the male bird. In his eagerness + he was so intent that he flew directly before the girl's face, his wing + nearly touching her cheek. She went back through the orchard to the barns + and through one of them to the open door of a long shed that was used for + housing wagons and buggies, her mind occupied with the idea of finding Jim + Priest, of standing perhaps near him. He was not about, but in the open + space before the shed, John May, a young man of twenty-two who had just + come to work on the farm, was oiling the wheels of a wagon. His back was + turned and as he handled the heavy wagon wheels the muscles could be seen + playing beneath his thin cotton shirt. “It is so Jim Priest must have + looked in his youth,” the girl thought. + </p> + <p> + The farm girl wanted to approach the young man, to speak to him, to ask + him questions concerning many strange things in life she did not + understand. She knew that under no circumstances would she be able to do + such a thing, that it was but a meaningless dream that had come into her + head, but the dream was sweet. She did not, however, want to talk to John + May. At the moment she was in a girlish period of being disgusted at what + she thought of as the vulgarity of the men who worked on the place. At the + table they ate noisily and greedily like hungry animals. She wanted youth + that was like her own youth, crude and uncertain perhaps, but reaching + eagerly out into the unknown. She wanted to draw very near to something + young, strong, gentle, insistent, beautiful. When the farm hand looked up + and saw her standing and looking intently at him, she was embarrassed. For + a moment the two young animals, so unlike each other, stood staring at + each other and then, to relieve her embarrassment, Clara began to play a + game. Among the men employed on the farm she had always passed for + something of a tomboy. In the hayfields and in the barns she had wrestled + and fought playfully with both the old and the young men. To them she had + always been a privileged person. They liked her and she was the boss's + daughter. One did not get rough with her or say or do rough things. A + basket of corn stood just within the door of the shed, and running to it + Clara took an ear of the yellow corn and threw it at the farm hand. It + struck a post of the barn just above his head. Laughing shrilly Clara ran + into the shed among the wagons, and the farm hand pursued her. + </p> + <p> + John May was a very determined man. He was the son of a laborer in Bidwell + and for two or three years had been employed about the stable of a doctor, + something had happened between him and the doctor's wife and he had left + the place because he had a notion that the doctor was becoming suspicious. + The experience had taught him the value of boldness in dealing with women. + Ever since he had come to work on the Butterworth farm, he had been having + thoughts regarding the girl who had now, he imagined, given him direct + challenge. He was a little amazed by her boldness but did not stop to ask + himself questions, she had openly invited him to pursue her. That was + enough. His accustomed awkwardness and clumsiness went away and he leaped + lightly over the extended tongues of wagons and buggies. He caught Clara + in dark corner of the shed. Without a word he took her tightly into his + arms and kissed her, first upon the neck and then on the mouth. She lay + trembling and weak in his arms and he took hold of the collar of her dress + and tore it open. Her brown neck and one of her hard, round breasts were + exposed. Clara's eyes grew big with fright. Strength came back into her + body. With her sharp hard little fist she struck John May in the face; and + when he stepped back she ran quickly out of the shed. John May did not + understand. He thought she had sought him out once and would return. + “She's a little green. I was too fast. I scared her. Next time I'll go a + little easy,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + Clara ran through the barn and then walked slowly to the house and went + upstairs to her own room. A farm dog followed her up the stairs and stood + at her door wagging his tail. She shut the door in his face. For the + moment everything that lived and breathed seemed to her gross and ugly. + Her cheeks were pale and she pulled shut the blinds to the window and sat + down on the bed, overcome with the strange new fear of life. She did not + want even the sunlight to come into her presence. John May had followed + her through the barn and now stood in the barnyard staring at the house. + She could see him through the cracks of the blinds and wished it were + possible to kill him with a gesture of her hand. + </p> + <p> + The farm hand, full of male confidence, waited for her to come to the + window and look down at him. He wondered if there were any one else in the + house. Perhaps she would beckon to him. Something of the kind had happened + between him and the doctor's wife and it had turned out that way. When + after five or ten minutes he did not see her, he went back to the work of + oiling the wagon wheels. “It's going to be a slower thing. She's shy, a + green girl,” he told himself. + </p> + <p> + One evening a week later Clara sat on the side porch of the house with her + father when John May came into the barnyard. It was a Wednesday evening + and the farm hands were not in the habit of going into town until + Saturday, but he was dressed in his Sunday clothes and had shaved and + oiled his hair. On the occasion of a wedding or a funeral the laborers put + oil in their hair. It was indicative of something very important about to + happen. Clara looked at him, and in spite of the feeling of repugnance + that swept over her, her eyes glistened. Ever since the affair in the barn + she had managed to avoid meeting him but she was not afraid. He had in + fact taught her something. There was a power within her with which she + could conquer men. The touch of her father's shrewdness, that was a part + of her nature, had come to her rescue. She wanted to laugh at the silly + pretensions of the man, to make a fool of him. Her cheeks flushed with + pride in her mastery of the situation. + </p> + <p> + John May walked almost to the house and then turned along the path that + led to the road. He made a gesture with his hand and by chance Tom + Butterworth, who had been looking off across the open country toward + Bidwell, turned and saw both the movement and the leering confident smile + on the farm hand's face. He arose and followed John May into the road, + astonishment and anger fighting for possession of him. The two men stood + talking for three minutes in the road before the house and then returned. + The farm hand went to the barn and then came back along the path to the + road carrying under his arm a grain bag containing his work clothes. He + did not look up as he went past. The farmer returned to the porch. + </p> + <p> + The misunderstanding that was to wreck the tender relationship that had + begun to grow up between father and daughter began on that evening. Tom + Butterworth was furious. He muttered and clinched his fists. Clara's heart + beat heavily. For some reason she felt guilty, as though she had been + caught in an intrigue with the man. For a long time her father remained + silent and then he, like the farm hand, made a furious and brutal attack + on her. “Where have you been with that fellow? What you been up to?” he + asked harshly. + </p> + <p> + For a time Clara did not answer her father's question. She wanted to + scream, to strike him in the face with her fist as she had struck the man + in the shed. Then her mind struggled to take hold of the new situation. + The fact that her father had accused her of seeking the thing that had + happened made her hate John May less heartily. She had some one else to + hate. + </p> + <p> + Clara did not think the matter out clearly on that first evening but, + after denying that she had ever been anywhere with John May, burst into + tears and ran into the house. In the darkness of her own room she began to + think of her father's words. For some reason she could not understand, the + attack made on her spirit seemed more terrible and unforgivable than the + attack upon her body made by the farm hand in the shed. She began to + understand vaguely that the young man had been confused by her presence on + that warm sunshiny afternoon as she had been confused by the words uttered + by Jim Priest, by the song of the bees in the orchard, by the love-making + of the birds, and by her own uncertain thoughts. He had been confused and + he was stupid and young. There had been an excuse for his confusion. It + was understandable and could be dealt with. She had now no doubt of her + own ability to deal with John May. As for her father—it was all + right for him to be suspicious regarding the farm hand, but why had he + been suspicious of her? + </p> + <p> + The perplexed girl sat down in the darkness on the edge of the bed, and a + hard look came into her eyes. After a time her father came up the stairs + and knocked at her door. He did not come in but stood in the hallway + outside and talked. She remained calm while the conversation lasted, and + that confused the man who had expected to find her in tears. That she was + not seemed to him an evidence of guilt. + </p> + <p> + Tom Butterworth, in many ways a shrewd, observing man, never understood + the quality of his own daughter. He was an intensely possessive man and + once, when he was newly married, there had been a suspicion in his mind + that there was something between his wife and a young man who had worked + on the farm where he then lived. The suspicion was unfounded, but he + discharged the man and one evening, when his wife had gone into town to do + some shopping and did not return at the accustomed time, he followed, and + when he saw her on the street stepped into a store to avoid a meeting. She + was in trouble. Her horse had become suddenly lame and she had to walk + home. Without letting her see him the husband followed along the road. It + was dark and she heard the footsteps in the road behind her and becoming + frightened ran the last half mile to her own house. He waited until she + had entered and then followed her in, pretending he had just come from the + barns. When he heard her story of the accident to the horse and of her + fright in the road he was ashamed; but as the horse, that had been left in + a livery stable, seemed all right when he went for it the next day he + became suspicious again. + </p> + <p> + As he stood outside the door of his daughter's room, the farmer felt as he + had felt that evening long before when he followed his wife along the + road. When on the porch downstairs he had looked up suddenly and had seen + the gesture made by the farm hand, he had also looked quickly at his + daughter. She looked confused and, he thought, guilty. “Well, it is the + same thing over again,” he thought bitterly, “like mother, like daughter—they + are both of the same stripe.” Getting quickly out of his chair he had + followed the young man into the road and had discharged him. “Go, + to-night. I don't want to see you on the place again,” he said. In the + darkness before the girl's room he thought of many bitter things he wanted + to say. He forgot she was a girl and talked to her as he might have talked + to a mature, sophisticated, and guilty woman. “Come,” he said, “I want to + know the truth. If you have been with that farm hand you are starting + young. Has anything happened between you?” + </p> + <p> + Clara walked to the door and confronted her father. The hatred of him, + born in that hour and that never left her, gave her strength. She did not + know what he was talking about, but had a keen sense of the fact that he, + like the stupid, young man in the shed, was trying to violate something + very precious in her nature. “I don't know what you are talking about,” + she said calmly, “but I know this. I am no longer a child. Within the last + week I've become a woman. If you don't want me in your house, if you don't + like me any more, say so and I'll go away.” + </p> + <p> + The two people stood in the darkness and tried to look at each other. + Clara was amazed by her own strength and by the words that had come to + her. The words had clarified something. She felt that if her father would + but take her into his arms or say some kindly understanding word, all + could be forgotten. Life could be started over again. In the future she + would understand much that she had not understood. She and her father + could draw close to each other. Tears came into her eyes and a sob + trembled in her throat. As her father, however, did not answer her words + and turned to go silently away, she shut the door with a loud bang and + afterward lay awake all night, white and furious with anger and + disappointment. + </p> + <p> + Clara left home to become a college student that fall, but before she left + had another passage at arms with her father. In August a young man who was + to teach in the town schools came to Bidwell, and she met him at a supper + given in the basement of the church. He walked home with her and came on + the following Sunday afternoon to call. She introduced the young man, a + slender fellow with black hair, brown eyes, and a serious face, to her + father who answered by nodding his head and walking away. She and the + young man walked along a country road and went into a wood. He was five + years older than herself and had been to college, but she felt much the + older and wiser. The thing that happens to so many women had happened to + her. She felt older and wiser than all the men she had ever seen. She had + decided, as most women finally decide, that there are two kinds of men in + the world, those who are kindly, gentle, well-intentioned children, and + those who, while they remain children, are obsessed with stupid, male + vanity and imagine themselves born to be masters of life. Clara's thoughts + on the matter were not very clear. She was young and her thoughts were + indefinite. She had, however, been shocked into an acceptance of life and + she was made of the kind of stuff that survives the blows life gives. + </p> + <p> + In the wood with the young school teacher, Clara began an experiment. + Evening came on and it grew dark. She knew her father would be furious + that she did not come home but she did not care. She led the school + teacher to talk of love and the relationships of men and women. She + pretended an innocence that was not hers. School girls know many things + that they do not apply to themselves until something happens to them such + as had happened to Clara. The farmer's daughter became conscious. She knew + a thousand things she had not known a month before and began to take her + revenge upon men for their betrayal of her. In the darkness as they walked + home together, she tempted the young man into kissing her, and later lay + in his arms for two hours, entirely sure of herself, striving to find out, + without risk to herself, the things she wanted to know about life. + </p> + <p> + That night she again quarreled with her father. He tried to scold her for + remaining out late with a man, and she shut the door in his face. On + another evening she walked boldly out of the house with the school + teacher. The two walked along a road to where a bridge went over a small + stream. John May, who was still determined that the farmer's daughter was + in love with him, had on that evening followed the school teacher to the + Butterworth house and had been waiting outside intending to frighten his + rival with his fists. On the bridge something happened that drove the + school teacher away. John May came up to the two people and began to make + threats. The bridge had just been repaired and a pile of small, + sharp-edged stones lay close at hand. Clara picked one of them up and + handed it to the school teacher. “Hit him,” she said. “Don't be afraid. + He's only a coward. Hit him on the head with the stone.” + </p> + <p> + The three people stood in silence waiting for something to happen. John + May was disconcerted by Clara's words. He had thought she wanted him to + pursue her. He stepped toward the school teacher, who dropped the stone + that had been put into his hand and ran away. Clara went back along the + road toward her own house followed by the muttering farm hand who, after + her speech at the bridge, did not dare approach. “Maybe she was making a + bluff. Maybe she didn't want that young fellow to get on to what is + between us,” he muttered, as he stumbled along in the darkness. + </p> + <p> + In the house Clara sat for a half hour at a table in the lighted living + room beside her father, pretending to read a book. She half hoped he would + say something that would permit her to attack him. When nothing happened + she went upstairs and to bed, only again to spend the night awake and + white with anger at the thought of the cruel and unexplainable things life + seemed trying to do to her. + </p> + <p> + In September Clara left the farm to attend the State University at + Columbus. She was sent there because Tom Butterworth had a sister who was + married to a manufacturer of plows and lived at the State Capital. After + the incident with the farm hand and the misunderstanding that had sprung + up between himself and his daughter, he was uncomfortable with her in the + house and was glad to have her away. He did not want to frighten his + sister by telling of what had happened, and when he wrote, tried to be + diplomatic. “Clara has been too much among the rough men who work on my + farms and had become a little rough,” he wrote. “Take her in hand. I want + her to become more of a lady. Get her acquainted with the right kind of + people.” In secret he hoped she would meet and marry some young man while + she was away. Two of his sisters had gone away to school and it had turned + out that way. + </p> + <p> + During the month before his daughter left home the farmer tried to be + somewhat more human and gentle in his attitude toward her, but did not + succeed in dispelling the dislike of himself that had taken deep root in + her nature. At table he made jokes at which the farm hands laughed + boisterously. Then he looked at his daughter who did not appear to have + been listening. Clara ate quickly and hurried out of the room. She did not + go to visit her girl friends in town and the young school teacher came no + more to see her. During the long summer afternoons she walked in the + orchard among the beehives or climbed over fences and went into a wood, + where she sat for hours on a fallen log staring at the trees and the sky. + Tom Butterworth also hurried out of his house. He pretended to be busy and + every day drove far and wide over the country. Sometimes he thought he had + been brutal and crude in his treatment of his daughter, and decided he + would speak to her regarding the matter and ask her to forgive him. Then + his suspicion returned. He struck the horse with the whip and drove + furiously along the lonely roads. “Well, there's something wrong,” he + muttered aloud. “Men don't just look at women and approach them boldly, as + that young fellow did with Clara. He did it before my very eyes. He's been + given some encouragement.” An old suspicion awoke in him. “There was + something wrong with her mother, and there's something wrong with her. + I'll be glad when the time comes for her to marry and settle down, so I + can get her off my hands,” he thought bitterly. + </p> + <p> + On the evening when Clara left the farm to go to the train that was to + take her away, her father said he had a headache, a thing he had never + been known to complain of before, and told Jim Priest to drive her to the + station. Jim took the girl to the station, saw to the checking of her + baggage, and waited about until her train came in. Then he boldly kissed + her on the cheek. “Good-by, little girl,” he said gruffly. Clara was so + grateful she could not reply. On the train she spent an hour weeping + softly. The rough gentleness of the old farm hand had done much to take + the growing bitterness out of her heart. She felt that she was ready to + begin life anew, and wished she had not left the farm without coming to a + better understanding with her father. + </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 IX + </h2> + <p> + The Woodburns of Columbus were wealthy by the standards of their day. They + lived in a large house and kept two carriages and four servants, but had + no children. Henderson Woodburn was small of stature, wore a gray beard, + and was neat and precise about his person. He was treasurer of the plow + manufacturing company and was also treasurer of the church he and his wife + attended. In his youth he had been called “Hen” Woodburn and had been + bullied by larger boys, and when he grew to be a man and after his + persistent shrewdness and patience had carried him into a position of some + power in the business life of his native city he in turn became something + of a bully to the men beneath him. He thought his wife Priscilla had come + from a better family than his own and was a little afraid of her. When + they did not agree on any subject, she expressed her opinion gently but + firmly, while he blustered for a time and then gave in. After a + misunderstanding his wife put her arms about his neck and kissed the bald + spot on the top of his head. Then the subject was forgotten. + </p> + <p> + Life in the Woodburn house was lived without words. After the stir and + bustle of the farm, the silence of the house for a long time frightened + Clara. Even when she was alone in her own room she walked about on tiptoe. + Henderson Woodburn was absorbed in his work, and when he came home in the + evening, ate his dinner in silence and then worked again. He brought home + account books and papers from the office and spread them out on a table in + the living room. His wife Priscilla sat in a large chair under a lamp and + knitted children's stockings. They were, she told Clara, for the children + of the poor. As a matter of fact the stockings never left her house. In a + large trunk in her room upstairs lay hundreds of pairs knitted during the + twenty-five years of her family life. + </p> + <p> + Clara was not very happy in the Woodburn household, but on the other hand, + was not very unhappy. She attended to her studies at the University + passably well and in the late afternoons took a walk with a girl + classmate, attended a matinee at the theater, or read a book. In the + evening she sat with her aunt and uncle until she could no longer bear the + silence, and then went to her own room, where she studied until it was + time to go to bed. Now and then she went with the two older people to a + social affair at the church, of which Henderson Woodburn was treasurer, or + accompanied them to dinners at the homes of other well-to-do and + respectable business men. On several occasions young men, sons of the + people with whom the Woodburns dined, or students at the university, came + in the evening to call. On such an occasion Clara and the young man sat in + the parlor of the house and talked. After a time they grew silent and + embarrassed in each other's presence. From the next room Clara could hear + the rustling of the papers containing the columns of figures over which + her uncle was at work. Her aunt's knitting needles clicked loudly. The + young man told a tale of some football game, or if he had already gone out + into the world, talked of his experiences as a traveler selling the wares + manufactured or merchandized by his father. Such visits all began at the + same hour, eight o'clock, and the young man left the house promptly at + ten. Clara grew to feel that she was being merchandized and that they had + come to look at the goods. One evening one of the men, a fellow with + laughing blue eyes and kinky yellow hair, unconsciously disturbed her + profoundly. All the evening he talked just as the others had talked and + got out of his chair to go away at the prescribed hour. Clara walked with + him to the door. She put out her hand, which he shook cordially. Then he + looked at her and his eyes twinkled. “I've had a good time,” he said. + Clara had a sudden and almost overpowering desire to embrace him. She + wanted to disturb his assurance, to startle him by kissing him on the lips + or holding him tightly in her arms. Shutting the door quickly, she stood + with her hand on the door-knob, her whole body trembling. The trivial + by-products of her age's industrial madness went on in the next room. The + sheets of paper rustled and the knitting needles clicked. Clara thought + she would like to call the young man back into the house, lead him to the + room where the meaningless industry went endlessly on and there do + something that would shock them and him as they had never been shocked + before. She ran quickly upstairs. “What is getting to be the matter with + me?” she asked herself anxiously. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + One evening in the month of May, during her third year at the University, + Clara sat on the bank of a tiny stream by a grove of trees, far out on the + edge of a suburban village north of Columbus. Beside her sat a young man + named Frank Metcalf whom she had known for a year and who had once been a + student in the same classes with herself. He was the son of the president + of the plow manufacturing company of which her uncle was treasurer. As + they sat together by the stream the afternoon light began to fade and + darkness came on. Before them across an open field stood a factory, and + Clara remembered that the whistle had long since blown and the men from + the factory had gone home. She grew restless and sprang to her feet. Young + Metcalf who had been talking very earnestly arose and stood beside her. “I + can't marry for two years, but we can be engaged and that will be all the + same thing as far as the right and wrong of what I want and need is + concerned. It isn't my fault I can't ask you to marry me now,” he + declared. “In two years now, I'll inherit eleven thousand dollars. My aunt + left it to me and the old fool went and fixed it so I don't get it if I + marry before I'm twenty-four. I want that money. I've got to have it, but + I got to have you too.” + </p> + <p> + Clara looked away into the evening darkness and waited for him to finish + his speech. All afternoon he had been making practically the same speech, + over and over. “Well, I can't help it, I'm a man,” he said doggedly. “I + can't help it, I want you. I can't help it, my aunt was an old fool.” He + began to explain the necessity of remaining unmarried in order that he + could receive the eleven thousand dollars. “If I don't get that money I'll + be just the same as I am now,” he declared. “I won't be any good.” He grew + angry and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, stared also across the + field into the darkness. “Nothing keeps me satisfied,” he said. “I hate + being in my father's business and I hate going to school. In only two + years I'll get the money. Father can't keep it from me. I'll take it and + light out. I don't know just what I'll do. I'm going maybe to Europe, + that's what I'm going to do. Father wants me to stay here and work in his + office. To hell with that. I want to travel. I'll be a soldier or + something. Anyway I'll get out of here and go somewhere and do something + exciting, something alive. You can go with me. We'll cut out together. + Haven't you got the nerve? Why don't you be my woman?” + </p> + <p> + Young Metcalf took hold of Clara's shoulder and tried to take her into his + arms. For a moment they struggled and then, in disgust, he stepped away + from her and again began to scold. + </p> + <p> + Clara walked away across two or three vacant lots and got into a street of + workingmen's houses, the man following at her heels. Night had come and + the people in the street facing the factory had already disposed of the + evening meal. Children and dogs played in the road and a strong smell of + food hung in the air. To the west across the fields, a passenger train ran + past going toward the city. Its light made wavering yellow patches against + the bluish black sky. Clara wondered why she had come to the out of the + way place with Frank Metcalf. She did not like him, but there was a + restlessness in him that was like the restless thing in herself. He did + not want stupidly to accept life, and that fact made him brother to + herself. Although he was but twenty-two years old, he had already achieved + an evil reputation. A servant in his father's house had given birth to a + child by him, and it had cost a good deal of money to get her to take the + child and go away without making an open scandal. During the year before + he had been expelled from the University for throwing another young man + down a flight of stairs, and it was whispered about among the girl + students that he often got violently drunk. For a year he had been trying + to ingratiate himself with Clara, had written her letters, sent flowers to + her house, and when he met her on the street had stopped to urge that she + accept his friendship. On the day in May she had met him on the street and + he had begged that she give him one chance to talk things out with her. + They had met at a street crossing where cars went past into the suburban + villages that lay about the city. “Come on,” he had urged, “let's take a + street car ride, let's get out of the crowds, I want to talk to you.” He + had taken hold of her arm and fairly dragged her to a car. “Come and hear + what I have to say,” he had urged, “then if you don't want to have + anything to do with me, all right. You can say so and I'll let you alone.” + After she had accompanied him to the suburb of workingmen's houses, in the + vicinity of which they had spent the afternoon in the fields, Clara had + found he had nothing to urge upon her except the needs of his body. Still + she felt there was something he wanted to say that had not been said. He + was restless and dissatisfied with his life, and at bottom she felt that + way about her own life. During the last three years she had often wondered + why she had come to the school and what she was to gain by learning things + out of books. The days and months went past and she knew certain rather + uninteresting facts she had not known before. How the facts were to help + her to live, she couldn't make out. They had nothing to do with such + problems as her attitude toward men like John May the farm hand, the + school teacher who had taught her something by holding her in his arms and + kissing her, and the dark sullen young man who now walked beside her and + talked of the needs of his body. It seemed to Clara that every additional + year spent at the University but served to emphasize its inadequacy. It + was so also with the books she read and the thoughts and actions of the + older people about her. Her aunt and uncle did not talk much, but seemed + to take it for granted she wanted to live such another life as they were + living. She thought with horror of the probability of marrying a maker of + plows or of some other dull necessity of life and then spending her days + in the making of stockings for babies that did not come, or in some other + equally futile manifestation of her dissatisfaction. She realized with a + shudder that men like her uncle, who spent their lives in adding up rows + of figures or doing over and over some tremendously trivial thing, had no + conception of any outlook for their women beyond living in a house, + serving them physically, wearing perhaps good enough clothes to help them + make a show of prosperity and success, and drifting finally into a stupid + acceptance of dullness—an acceptance that both she and the + passionate, twisted man beside her were fighting against. + </p> + <p> + In a class in the University Clara had met, during that her third year + there, a woman named Kate Chanceller, who had come to Columbus with her + brother from a town in Missouri, and it was this woman who had given her + thoughts form, who had indeed started her thinking of the inadequacy of + her life. The brother, a studious, quiet man, worked as a chemist in a + manufacturing plant somewhere at the edge of town. He was a musician and + wanted to become a composer. One evening during the winter his sister Kate + had brought Clara to the apartment where the two lived, and the three had + become friends. Clara had learned something there that she did not yet + understand and never did get clearly into her consciousness. The truth was + that the brother was like a woman and Kate Chanceller, who wore skirts and + had the body of a woman, was in her nature a man. Kate and Clara spent + many evenings together later and talked of many things not usually touched + on by girl students. Kate was a bold, vigorous thinker and was striving to + grope her way through her own problem in life and many times, as they + walked along the street or sat together in the evening, she forgot her + companion and talked of herself and the difficulties of her position in + life. “It's absurd the way things are arranged,” she said. “Because my + body is made in a certain way I'm supposed to accept certain rules for + living. The rules were not made for me. Men manufactured them as they + manufacture can-openers, on the wholesale plan.” She looked at Clara and + laughed. “Try to imagine me in a little lace cap, such as your aunt wears + about the house, and spending my days knitting baby stockings,” she said. + </p> + <p> + The two women had spent hours talking of their lives and in speculating on + the differences in their natures. The experience had been tremendously + educational for Clara. As Kate was a socialist and Columbus was rapidly + becoming an industrial city, she talked of the meaning of capital and + labor and the effect of changing conditions on the lives of men and women. + To Kate, Clara could talk as to a man, but the antagonism that so often + exists between men and women did not come into and spoil their + companionship. In the evening when Clara went to Kate's house her aunt + sent a carriage to bring her home at nine. Kate rode home with her. They + got to the Woodburn house and went in. Kate was bold and free with the + Woodburns, as with her brother and Clara. “Come,” she said laughing, “put + away your figures and your knitting. Let's talk.” She sat in a large chair + with her legs crossed and talked with Henderson Woodburn of the affairs of + the plow company. The two got into a discussion of the relative merits of + the free trade and protection ideas. Then the two older people went to bed + and Kate talked to Clara. “Your uncle is an old duffer,” she said. “He + knows nothing about the meaning of what he's doing in life.” When she + started home afoot across the city, Clara was alarmed for her safety. “You + must get a cab or let me wake up uncle's man; something may happen,” she + said. Kate laughed and went off, striding along the street like a man. + Sometimes she thrust her hands into her skirt pockets, that were like the + trouser pockets of a man, and it was difficult for Clara to remember that + she was a woman. In Kate's presence she became bolder than she had ever + been with any one. One evening she told the story of the thing that had + happened to her that afternoon long before on the farm, the afternoon + when, her mind having been inflamed by the words of Jim Priest regarding + the sap that goes up the tree and by the warm sensuous beauty of the day, + she had wanted so keenly to draw close to some one. She explained to Kate + how she had been so brutally jarred out of the feeling in herself that she + felt was at bottom all right. “It was like a blow in the face at the hand + of God,” she said. + </p> + <p> + Kate Chanceller was excited as Clara told the tale and listened with a + fiery light burning in her eyes. Something in her manner encouraged Clara + to tell also of her experiments with the school teacher and for the first + time she got a sense of justice toward men by talking to the woman who was + half a man. “I know that wasn't square,” she said. “I know now, when I + talk to you, but I didn't know then. With the school teacher I was as + unfair as John May and my father were with me. Why do men and women have + to fight each other? Why does the battle between them have to go on?” + </p> + <p> + Kate walked up and down before Clara and swore like a man. “Oh, hell,” she + exclaimed, “men are such fools and I suppose women are as bad. They are + both too much one thing. I fall in between. I've got my problem too, but + I'm not going to talk about it. I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to + find some kind of work and do it.” She began to talk of the stupidity of + men in their approach to women. “Men hate such women as myself,” she said. + “They can't use us, they think. What fools! They should watch and study + us. Many of us spend our lives loving other women, but we have skill. + Being part women, we know how to approach women. We are not blundering and + crude. Men want a certain thing from you. It is delicate and easy to kill. + Love is the most sensitive thing in the world. It's like an orchid. Men + try to pluck orchids with ice tongs, the fools.” + </p> + <p> + Walking to where Clara stood by a table, and taking her by the shoulder, + the excited woman stood for a long time looking at her. Then she picked up + her hat, put it on her head, and with a flourish of her hand started for + the door. “You can depend on my friendship,” she said. “I'll do nothing to + confuse you. You'll be in luck if you can get that kind of love or + friendship from a man.” + </p> + <p> + Clara kept thinking of the words of Kate Chanceller on the evening when + she walked through the streets of the suburban village with Frank Metcalf, + and later as the two sat on the car that took them back to the city. With + the exception of another student named Phillip Grimes, who had come to see + her a dozen times during her second year in the University, young Metcalf + was the only one of perhaps a dozen men she had met since leaving the farm + who had been attracted to her. Phillip Grimes was a slender young fellow + with blue eyes, yellow hair and a not very vigorous mustache. He was from + a small town in the northern end of the State, where his father published + a weekly newspaper. When he came to see Clara he sat on the edge of his + chair and talked rapidly. Some person he had seen in the street had + interested him. “I saw an old woman on the car,” he began. “She had a + basket on her arm. It was filled with groceries. She sat beside me and + talked aloud to herself.” Clara's visitor repeated the words of the old + woman on the car. He speculated about her, wondered what her life was + like. When he had talked of the old woman for ten or fifteen minutes, he + dropped the subject and began telling of another experience, this time + with a man who sold fruit at a street crossing. It was impossible to be + personal with Phillip Grimes. Nothing but his eyes were personal. + Sometimes he looked at Clara in a way that I made her feel that her + clothes were being stripped from her body, and that she was being made to + stand naked in the room before her visitor. The experience, when it came, + was not entirely a physical one. It was only in part that. When the thing + happened Clara saw her whole life being stripped bare. “Don't look at me + like that,” she once said somewhat sharply, when his eyes had made her so + uncomfortable she could no longer remain silent. Her remark had frightened + Phillip Grimes away. He got up at once, blushed, stammered something about + having another engagement, and hurried away. + </p> + <p> + In the street car, homeward bound beside Frank Metcalf, Clara thought of + Phillip Grimes and wondered whether or not he would have stood the test of + Kate Chanceller's speech regarding love and friendship. He had confused + her, but that was perhaps her own fault. He had not insisted on himself at + all. Frank Metcalf had done nothing else. “One should be able,” she + thought, “to find somewhere a man who respects himself and his own desires + but can understand also the desires and fears of a woman.” The street car + went bouncing along over railroad crossings and along residence streets. + Clara looked at her companion, who stared straight ahead, and then turned + to look out of the car window. The window was open and she could see the + interiors of the laborers' houses along the streets. In the evening with + the lamps lighted they seemed cosy and comfortable. Her mind ran back to + the life in her father's house and its loneliness. For two summers she had + escaped going home. At the end of her first year in school she had made an + illness of her uncle's an excuse for spending the summer in Columbus, and + at the end of the second year she had found another excuse for not going. + This year she felt she would have to go home. She would have to sit day + after day at the farm table with the farm hands. Nothing would happen. Her + father would remain silent in her presence. She would become bored and + weary of the endless small talk of the town girls. If one of the town boys + began to pay her special attention, her father would become suspicious and + that would lead to resentment in herself. She would do something she did + not want to do. In the houses along the streets through which the car + passed, she saw women moving about. Babies cried and men came out of the + doors and stood talking to one another on the sidewalks. She decided + suddenly that she was taking the problem of her own life too seriously. + “The thing to do is to get married and then work things out afterward,” + she told herself. She made up her mind that the puzzling, insistent + antagonism that existed between men and women was altogether due to the + fact that they were not married and had not the married people's way of + solving such problems as Frank Metcalf had been talking about all + afternoon. She wished she were with Kate Chancellor so that she could + discuss with her this new viewpoint. When she and Frank Metcalf got off + the car she was no longer in a hurry to go home to her uncle's house. + Knowing she did not want to marry him, she thought that in her turn she + would talk, that she would try to make him see her point of view as all + the afternoon he had been trying to make her see his. + </p> + <p> + For an hour the two people walked about and Clara talked. She forgot about + the passage of time and the fact that she had not dined. Not wishing to + talk of marriage, she talked instead of the possibility of friendship + between men and women. As she talked her own mind seemed to her to have + become clearer. “It's all foolishness your going on as you have,” she + declared. “I know how dissatisfied and unhappy you sometimes are. I often + feel that way myself. Sometimes I think it's marriage I want. I really + think I want to draw close to some one. I believe every one is hungry for + that experience. We all want something we are not willing to pay for. We + want to steal it or have it given us. That's what's the matter with me, + and that's what's the matter with you.” + </p> + <p> + They came to the Woodburn house, and turning in stood on a porch in the + darkness by the front door. At the back of the house Clara could see a + light burning. Her aunt and uncle were at the eternal figuring and + knitting. They were finding a substitute for living. It was the thing + Frank Metcalf was protesting against and was the real reason for her own + constant secret protest. She took hold of the lapel of his coat, intending + to make a plea, to urge upon him the idea of a friendship that would mean + something to them both. In the darkness she could not see his rather + heavy, sullen face. The maternal instinct became strong in her and she + thought of him as a wayward, dissatisfied boy, wanting love and + understanding as she had wanted to be loved and understood by her father + when life in the moment of the awakening of her womanhood seemed ugly and + brutal. With her free hand she stroked the sleeve of his coat. Her gesture + was misunderstood by the man who was not thinking of her words but of her + body and of his hunger to possess it. He took her into his arms and held + her tightly against his breast. She tried to struggle, to tear herself + away but, although she was strong and muscular, she found herself unable + to move. As he held her uncle, who had heard the two people come up the + steps to the door, threw it open. Both he and his wife had on several + occasions warned Clara to have nothing to do with young Metcalf. One day + when he had sent flowers to the house, her aunt had urged her to refuse to + receive them. “He's a bad, dissipated, wicked man,” she had said. “Have + nothing to do with him.” When he saw his niece in the arms of the man who + had been the subject of so much discussion in his own house and in every + respectable house in Columbus, Henderson Woodburn was furious. He forgot + the fact that young Metcalf was the son of the president of the company of + which he was treasurer. It seemed to him that some sort of a personal + insult had been thrown at him by a common ruffian. “Get out of here,” he + screamed. “What do you mean, you nasty villain? Get out of here.” + </p> + <p> + Frank Metcalf went off along the street laughing defiantly, and Clara went + into the house. The sliding doors that led into the living room had been + thrown open and the light from a hanging lamp streamed in upon her. Her + hair was disheveled and her hat twisted to one side. The man and woman + stared at her. The knitting needles and a sheet of paper held in their + hands suggested what they had been doing while Clara was getting another + lesson from life. Her aunt's hands trembled and the knitting needles + clicked together. Nothing was said and the confused and angry girl ran up + a stairway to her own room. She locked herself in and knelt on the floor + by the bed. She did not pray. Her association with Kate Chanceller had + given her another outlet for her feelings. Pounding with her fists on the + bed coverings, she swore. “Fools, damned fools, the world is filled with + nothing but a lot of damned fools.” + </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 X + </h2> + <p> + Clara Butterworth left Bidwell, Ohio, in September of the year in which + Steve Hunter's plant-setting machine company went into the hands of a + receiver, and in January of the next year that enterprising young man, + together with Tom Butterworth, bought the plant. In March a new company + was organized and at once began making Hugh's corn-cutting machine, a + success from the beginning. The failure of the first company and the sale + of the plant had created a furor in the town. Both Steve and Tom + Butterworth could, however, point to the fact that they had held on to + their stock and lost their money in common with every one else. Tom had + indeed sold his stock because he needed ready money, as he explained, but + had shown his good faith by buying again just before the failure. “Do you + suppose I would have done that had I known what was up?” he asked the men + assembled in the stores. “Go look at the books of the company. Let's have + an investigation here. You will find that Steve and I stuck to the rest of + the stockholders. We lost our money with the rest. If any one was crooked + and when they saw a failure coming went and got out from under at the + expense of some one else, it wasn't Steve and me. The books of the company + will show we were game. It wasn't our fault the plant-setting machine + wouldn't work.” + </p> + <p> + In the back room of the bank, John Clark and young Gordon Hart cursed + Steve and Tom, who, they declared, had sold them out. They had lost no + money by the failure, but on the other hand they had gained nothing. The + four men had sent in a bid for the plant when it was put up for sale, but + as they expected no competition, they had not bid very much. It had gone + to a firm of Cleveland lawyers who bid a little more, and later had been + resold at private sale to Steve and Tom. An investigation was started and + it was found that Steve and Tom held large blocks of stock in the defunct + company, while the bankers held practically none. Steve openly said that + he had known of the possibility of failure for some time and had warned + the larger stock-holders and asked them not to sell their stock. “While I + was working my head off trying to save the company, what were they up to?” + he asked sharply, and his question was repeated in the stores and in the + homes of the people. + </p> + <p> + The truth of the matter, and the thing the town never found out, was that + from the beginning Steve had intended to get the plant for himself, but at + the last had decided it would be better to take some one in with him. He + was afraid of John Clark. For two or three days he thought about the + matter and decided that the banker was not to be trusted. “He's too good a + friend to Tom Butterworth,” he told himself. “If I tell him my scheme, + he'll tell Tom. I'll go to Tom myself. He's a money maker and a man who + knows the difference between a bicycle and a wheelbarrow when you put one + of them into bed with him.” + </p> + <p> + Steve drove out to Tom's house late one evening in September. He hated to + go but was convinced it would be better to do so. “I don't want to burn + all my bridges behind me,” he told himself. “I've got to have at least one + friend among the solid men here in town. I've got to do business with + these rubes, maybe all my life. I can't shut myself off too much, at least + not yet a while.” + </p> + <p> + When Steve got to the farm he asked Tom to get into his buggy, and the two + men went for a long drive. The horse, a gray gelding with one blind eye + hired for the occasion from liveryman Neighbors, went slowly along through + the hill country south of Bidwell. He had hauled hundreds of young men + with their sweethearts. Ambling slowly along, thinking perhaps of his own + youth and of the tyranny of man that had made him a gelding, he knew that + as long as the moon shone and the intense voiceless quiet continued to + reign over the two people in the buggy, the whip would not come out of its + socket and he would not be expected to hurry. + </p> + <p> + On the September evening, however, the gray gelding had behind him such a + load as he had never carried before. The two people in the buggy on that + evening were not foolish, meandering sweethearts, thinking only of love, + and allowing themselves to be influenced in their mood by the beauty of + the night, the softness of the black shadows in the road, and the gentle + night winds that crept down over the crests of hills. They were solid + business men, mentors of the new age, the kind of men who, in the future + of America and perhaps of the whole world, were to be the makers of + governments, the molders of public opinion, the owners of the press, the + publishers of books, buyers of pictures, and in the goodness of their + hearts, the feeders of an occasional starving and improvident poet, lost + on other roads. In any event the two men sat in the buggy and the gray + gelding meandered along through the hills. Great splashes of moonlight lay + in the road. By chance it was on the same evening that Clara Butterworth + left home to become a student in the State University. Remembering the + kindness and tenderness of the rough old farm hand, Jim Priest, who had + brought her to the station, she lay in her berth in the sleeping car and + looked out at the roads, washed with moonlight, that slid away into the + distance like ghosts. She thought of her father on that night and of the + misunderstanding that had grown up between them. For the moment she was + tender with regrets. “After all, Jim Priest and my father must be a good + deal alike,” she thought. “They have lived on the same farm, eaten the + same food; they both love horses. There can't be any great difference + between them.” All night she thought of the matter. An obsession, that the + whole world was aboard the moving train and that, as it ran swiftly along, + it was carrying the people of the world into some strange maze of + misunderstanding, took possession of her. So strong was it that it + affected her deeply buried unconscious self and made her terribly afraid. + It seemed to her that the walls of the sleeping-car berth were like the + walls of a prison that had shut her away from the beauty of life. The + walls seemed to close in upon her. The walls, like life itself, were + shutting in upon her youth and her youthful desire to reach a hand out of + the beauty in herself to the buried beauty in others. She sat up in the + berth and forced down a desire in herself to break the car window and leap + out of the swiftly moving train into the quiet night bathed with + moonlight. With girlish generosity she took upon her own shoulders the + responsibility for the misunderstanding that had grown up between herself + and her father. Later she lost the impulse that led her to come to that + decision, but during that night it persisted. It was, in spite of the + terror caused by the hallucination regarding the moving walls of the berth + that seemed about to crush her and that came back time after time, the + most beautiful night she had ever lived through, and it remained in her + memory throughout her life. She in fact came to think later of that night + as the time when, most of all, it would have been beautiful and right for + her to have been able to give herself to a lover. Although she did not + know it, the kiss on the cheek from the bewhiskered lips of Jim Priest had + no doubt something to do with that thought when it came. + </p> + <p> + And while the girl fought her battle with the strangeness of life and + tried to break through the imaginary walls that shut her off from the + opportunity to live, her father also rode through the night. With a shrewd + eye he watched the face of Steve Hunter. It had already begun to get a + little fat, but Tom realized suddenly that it was the face of a man of + ability. There was something about the jowls that made Tom, who had dealt + much in live stock, think of the face of a pig. “The man goes after what + he wants. He's greedy,” the farmer thought. “Now he's up to something. To + get what he wants he'll give me a chance to get something I want. He's + going to make some kind of proposal to me in connection with the factory. + He's hatched up a scheme to shut Gordon Hart and John Clark out because he + doesn't want too many partners. All right, I'll go in with him. Either one + of them would have done the same thing had they had the chance.” + </p> + <p> + Steve smoked a black cigar and talked. As he grew more sure of himself and + the affairs that absorbed him, he also became more smooth and persuasive + in the matter of words. He talked for a time of the necessity of certain + men's surviving and growing constantly stronger and stronger in the + industrial world. “It's necessary for the good of the community,” he said. + “A few fairly strong men are a good thing for a town, but if they are + fewer and relatively stronger it's better.” He turned to look sharply at + his companion. “Well,” he exclaimed, “we talked there in the bank of what + we would do when things went to pieces down at the factory, but there were + too many men in the scheme. I didn't realize it at the time, but I do + now.” He knocked the ashes off his cigar and laughed. “You know what they + did, don't you?” he asked. “I asked you all not to sell any of your stock. + I didn't want to get the whole town bitter. They wouldn't have lost + anything. I promised to see them through, to get the plant for them at a + low price, to put them in the way to make some real money. They played the + game in a small-town way. Some men can think of thousands of dollars, + others have to think of hundreds. It's all their minds are big enough to + comprehend. They snatch at a little measly advantage and miss the big one. + That's what these men have done.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time the two rode in silence. Tom, who had also sold his stock, + wondered if Steve knew. He decided he did. “However, he's decided to deal + with me. He needs some one and has chosen me,” he thought. He made up his + mind to be bold. After all, Steve was young. Only a year or two before he + was nothing but a young upstart and the very boys in the street laughed at + him. Tom grew a little indignant, but was careful to take thought before + he spoke. “Perhaps, although he's young and don't look like much, he's a + faster and shrewder thinker than any of us,” he told himself. + </p> + <p> + “You do talk like a fellow who has something up his sleeve,” he said + laughing. “If you want to know, I sold my stock the same as the others. I + wasn't going to take a chance of being a loser if I could help it. It may + be the small-town way, but you know things maybe I don't know. You can't + blame me for living up to my lights. I always did believe in the survival + of the fittest and I got a daughter to support and put through college. I + want to make a lady of her. You ain't got any kids yet and you're younger. + Maybe you want to take chances I don't want to take. How do I know what + you're up to?” + </p> + <p> + Again the two rode in silence. Steve had prepared himself for the talk. He + knew there was a chance that, in its turn, the corn-cutting machine Hugh + had invented might not prove practical and that in the end he might be + left with a factory on his hands and with nothing to manufacture in it. He + did not, however, hesitate. Again, as on the day in the bank when he was + confronted by the two older men, he made a bluff. “Well, you can come in + or stay out, just as you wish,” he said a little sharply. “I'm going to + get hold of that factory, if I can, and I'm going to manufacture + corn-cutting machines. Already I have promises of orders enough to keep + running for a year. I can't take you in with me and have it said around + town you were one of the fellows who sold out the small investors. I've + got a hundred thousand dollars of stock in the company. You can have half + of it. I'll take your note for the fifty thousand. You won't ever have to + pay it. The earnings of the new factory will clean you up. You got to come + clean, though. Of course you can go get John Clark and come out and make + an open fight to get the factory yourselves, if you want to. I own the + rights to the corn-cutting machine and will take it somewhere else and + manufacture it. I don't mind telling you that, if we split up, I will + pretty well advertise what you three fellows did to the small investors + after I asked you not to do it. You can all stay here and own your empty + factory and get what satisfaction you can out of the love and respect + you'll get from the people. You can do what you please. I don't care. My + hands are clean. I ain't done anything I'm ashamed of, and if you want to + come in with me, you and I together will pull off something in this town + we don't neither one of us have to be ashamed of.” + </p> + <p> + The two men drove back to the Butterworth farm house and Tom got out of + the buggy. He intended to tell Steve to go to the devil, but as they drove + along the road, he changed his mind. The young school teacher from + Bidwell, who had come on several occasions to call on his daughter Clara, + was on that night abroad with another young woman. He sat in a buggy with + his arm around her waist and drove slowly through the hill country. Tom + and Steve drove past them and the farmer, seeing in the moonlight the + woman in the arms of the man, imagined his daughter in her place. The + thought made him furious. “I'm losing the chance to be a big man in the + town here in order to play safe and be sure of money to leave to Clara, + and all she cares about is to galavant around with some young squirt,” he + thought bitterly. He began to see himself as a wronged and unappreciated + father. When he got out of the buggy, he stood for a moment by the wheel + and looked hard at Steve. “I'm as good a sport as you are,” he said + finally. “Bring around your stock and I'll give you the note. That's all + it will be, you understand: just my note. I don't promise to back it up + with any collateral and I don't expect you to offer it for sale.” Steve + leaned out of the buggy and took him by the hand. “I won't sell your note, + Tom,” he said. “I'll put it away. I want a partner to help me. You and I + are going to do things together.” + </p> + <p> + The young promoter drove off along the road, and Tom went into the house + and to bed. Like his daughter he did not sleep. For a time he thought of + her and in imagination saw her again in the buggy with the school teacher + who had her in his arms. The thought made him stir restlessly about + beneath the sheets. “Damn women anyway,” he muttered. To relieve his mind + he thought of other things. “I'll make out a deed and turn three of my + farms over to Clara,” he decided shrewdly. “If things go wrong we won't be + entirely broke. I know Charlie Jacobs in the court-house over at the + county seat. I ought to be able to get a deed recorded without any one + knowing it if I oil Charlie's hand a little.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Clara's last two weeks in the Woodburn household were spent in the midst + of a struggle, no less intense because no words were said. Both Henderson + Wood, burn and his wife felt that Clara owed them an explanation of the + scene at the front door with Frank Metcalf. When she did not offer it they + were offended. When he threw open the door and confronted the two people, + the plow manufacturer had got an impression that Clara was trying to + escape Frank Metcalf's embraces. He told his wife that he did not think + she was to blame for the scene on the front porch. Not being the girl's + father he could look at the matter coldly. “She's a good girl,” he + declared. “That beast of a Frank Metcalf is all to blame. I daresay he + followed her home. She's upset now, but in the morning she'll tell us the + story of what happened.” + </p> + <p> + The days went past and Clara said nothing. During her last week in the + house she and the two older people scarcely spoke. The young woman was in + an odd way relieved. Every evening she went to dine with Kate Chanceller + who, when she heard the story of the afternoon in the suburb and the + incident on the porch, went off without Clara's knowing of it and had a + talk with Henderson Woodburn in his office. After the talk the + manufacturer was puzzled and just a little afraid of both Clara and her + friend. He tried to tell his wife about it, but was not very clear. “I + can't make it out,” he said. “She is the kind of woman I can't understand, + that Kate. She says Clara wasn't to blame for what happened between her + and Frank Metcalf, but don't want to tell us the story, because she thinks + young Metcalf wasn't to blame either.” Although he had been respectful and + courteous as he listened to Kate's talk, he grew angry when he tried to + tell his wife what she had said. “I'm afraid it was just a lot of mixed up + nonsense,” he declared. “It makes me glad we haven't a daughter. If + neither of them were to blame what were they up to? What's getting the + matter with the women of the new generation? When you come down to it + what's the matter with Kate Chanceller?” + </p> + <p> + The plow manufacturer advised his wife to say nothing to Clara. “Let's + wash our hands of it,” he suggested. “She'll go home in a few days now and + we will say nothing about her coming back next year. Let's be polite, but + act as though she didn't exist.” + </p> + <p> + Clara accepted the new attitude of her uncle and aunt without comment. In + the afternoon she did not come home from the University but went to Kate's + apartment. The brother came home and after dinner played on the piano. At + ten o'clock Clara started home afoot and Kate accompanied her. The two + women went out of their way to sit on a bench in a park. They talked of a + thousand hidden phases of life Clara had hardly dared think of before. + During all the rest of her life she thought of those last weeks in + Columbus as the most deeply satisfactory time she ever lived through. In + the Woodburn house she was uncomfortable because of the silence and the + hurt, offended look on her aunt's face, but she did not spend much time + there. In the morning Henderson Woodburn ate his breakfast alone at seven, + and clutching his ever present portfolio of papers, was driven off to the + plow factory. Clara and her aunt had a silent breakfast at eight, and then + Clara also hurried away. “I'll be out for lunch and will go to Kate's for + dinner,” she said as she went out of her aunt's presence, and she said it, + not with the air of one asking permission as had been her custom before + the Frank Metcalf incident, but as one having the right to dispose of her + own time. Only once did her aunt break the frigid air of offended dignity + she had assumed. One morning she followed Clara to the front door, and as + she watched her go down the steps from the front porch to the walk that + led to the street, called to her. Some faint recollection of a time of + revolt in her own youth perhaps came to her. Tears came into her eyes. To + her the world was a place of terror, where wolf-like men prowled about + seeking women to devour, and she was afraid something dreadful would + happen to her niece. “If you don't want to tell me anything, it's all + right,” she said bravely, “but I wish you felt you could.” When Clara + turned to look at her, she hastened to explain. “Mr. Woodburn said I + wasn't to bother you about it and I won't,” she added quickly. Nervously + folding and unfolding her arms, she turned to stare up the street with the + air of a frightened child that looks into a den of beasts. “O Clara, be a + good girl,” she said. “I know you're grown up now, but, O Clara, do be + careful! Don't get into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The Woodburn house in Columbus, like the Butterworth house in the country + south of Bidwell, sat on a hill. The street fell away rather sharply as + one went toward the business portion of the city and the street car line, + and on the morning when her aunt spoke to her and tried with her feeble + hands to tear some stones out of the wall that was being built between + them, Clara hurried along the street under the trees, feeling as though + she would like also to weep. She saw no possibility of explaining to her + aunt the new thoughts she was beginning to have about life and did not + want to hurt her by trying. “How can I explain my thoughts when they're + not clear in my own mind, when I am myself just groping blindly about?” + she asked herself. “She wants me to be good,” she thought. “What would she + think if I told her that I had come to the conclusion that, judging by her + standards, I have been altogether too good? What's the use trying to talk + to her when I would only hurt her and make things harder than ever?” She + got to a street crossing and looked back. Her aunt was still standing at + the door of her house and looking at her. There was something soft, small, + round, insistent, both terribly weak and terribly strong about the + completely feminine thing she had made of herself or that life had made of + her. Clara shuddered. She did not make a symbol of the figure of her aunt + and her mind did not form a connection between her aunt's life and what + she had become, as Kate Chanceller's mind would have done. She saw the + little, round, weeping woman as a boy, walking in the tree-lined streets + of a town, sees suddenly the pale face and staring eyes of a prisoner that + looks out at him through the iron bars of a town jail. Clara was startled + as the boy would be startled and, like the boy, she wanted to run quickly + away. “I must think of something else and of other kinds of women or I'll + get things terribly distorted,” she told herself. “If I think of her and + women like her I'll grow afraid of marriage, and I want to be married as + soon as I can find the right man. It's the only thing I can do. What else + is there a woman can do?” + </p> + <p> + As Clara and Kate walked about in the evening, they talked continually of + the new position Kate believed women were on the point of achieving in the + world. The woman who was so essentially a man wanted to talk of marriage + and to condemn it, but continually fought the impulse in herself. She knew + that were she to let herself go she would say many things that, while they + might be true enough as regards herself, would not necessarily be true of + Clara. “Because I do not want to live with a man or be his wife is not + very good proof that the institution is wrong. It may be that I want to + keep Clara for myself. I think more of her than of any one else I've ever + met. How can I think straight about her marrying some man and becoming + dulled to the things that mean most to me?” she asked herself. One + evening, when the women were walking from Kate's apartment to the Woodburn + house, they were accosted by two men who wanted to walk with them. There + was a small park nearby and Kate led the men to it. “Come,” she said, “we + won't walk with you, but you may sit with us here on a bench.” The men sat + down beside them and the older one, a man with a small black mustache, + made some remark about the fineness of the night. The younger man who sat + beside Clara looked at her and laughed. Kate at once got down to business. + “Well, you wanted to walk with us: what for?” she asked sharply. She + explained what they had been doing. “We were walking and talking of women + and what they were to do with their lives,” she explained. “We were + expressing opinions, you see. I don't say either of us had said anything + that was very wise, but we were having a good time and trying to learn + something from each other. Now what have you to say to us? You interrupted + our talk and wanted to walk with us: what for? You wanted to be in our + company: now tell us what you've got to contribute. You can't just come + and walk with us like dumb things. What have you got to offer that you + think will make it worth while for us to break up our conversation with + each other and spend the time talking with you?” + </p> + <p> + The older man, he of the mustache, turned to look at Kate, then got up + from the bench. He walked a little away and then turned and made a sign + with his hand to his companion. “Come on,” he said, “let's get out of + here. We're wasting our time. It's a cold trail. They're a couple of + highbrows. Come on, let's be on our way.” + </p> + <p> + The two women again walked along the street. Kate could not help feeling + somewhat proud of the way in which she had disposed of the men. She talked + of it until they got to the door of the Woodburn house, and, as she went + away along the street Clara thought she swaggered a little. She stood by + the door and watched her friend until she had disappeared around a corner. + A flash of doubt of the infallibility of Kate's method with men crossed + her mind. She remembered suddenly the soft brown eyes of the younger of + the two men in the park and wondered what was back of the eyes. Perhaps + after all, had she been alone with him, the man might have had something + to say quite as much to the point as the things she and Kate had been + saying to each other. “Kate made the men look like fools, but after all + she wasn't very fair,” she thought as she went into the house. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Clara was in Bidwell for a month before she realized what a change had + taken place in the life of her home town. On the farm things went on very + much as always, except that her father was very seldom there. He had gone + deeply into the project of manufacturing and selling corn-cutting machines + with Steve Hunter, and attended to much of the selling of the output of + the factory. Almost every month he went on trips to cities of the West. + Even when he was in Bidwell, he had got into the habit of staying at the + town hotel for the night. “It's too much trouble to be always running back + and forth,” he explained to Jim Priest, whom he had put in charge of the + farm work. He swaggered before the old man who for so many years had been + almost like a partner in his smaller activities. “Well, I wouldn't like to + have anything said, but I think it just as well to have an eye on what's + going on,” he declared. “Steve's all right, but business is business. + We're dealing in big affairs, he and I. I don't say he would try to get + the best of me; I'm just telling you that in the future I'll have to be in + town most of the time and can't think of things out here. You look out for + the farm. Don't bother me with details. You just tell me about it when + there is any buying or selling to do.” + </p> + <p> + Clara arrived in Bidwell in the early afternoon of a warm day in June. The + hill country through which her train came into town was in the full flush + of its summer beauty. In the little patches of level land between the + hills grain was ripening in the fields. Along the streets of the tiny + towns and on dusty country roads farmers in overalls stood up in their + wagons and scolded at the horses, rearing and prancing in half pretended + fright of the passing train. In the forests on the hillsides the open + places among the trees looked cool and enticing. Clara put her cheek + against the car window and imagined herself wandering in cool forests with + a lover. She forgot the words of Kate Chanceller in regard to the + independent future of women. It was, she thought vaguely, a thing to be + thought about only after some more immediate problem was solved. Just what + the problem was she didn't definitely know, but she did know that it + concerned some close warm contact with life that she had as yet been + unable to make. When she closed her eyes, strong warm hands seemed to come + out of nothingness and touch her flushed cheeks. The fingers of the hands + were strong like the branches of trees. They touched with the firmness and + gentleness of the branches of trees nodding in a summer breeze. + </p> + <p> + Clara sat up stiffly in her seat and when the train stopped at Bidwell got + off and went to her waiting father with a firm, business-like air. Coming + out of the land of dreams, she took on something of the determined air of + Kate Chanceller. She stared at her father and an onlooker might have + thought them two strangers, meeting for the purpose of discussing some + business arrangement. A flavor of something like suspicion hung over them. + They got into Tom's buggy, and as Main Street was torn up for the purpose + of laying a brick pavement and digging a new sewer, they drove by a + roundabout way through residence streets until they got into Medina Road. + Clara looked at her father and felt suddenly very alert and on her guard. + It seemed to her that she was far removed from the green, unsophisticated + girl who had so often walked in Bidwell's streets; that her mind and + spirit had expanded tremendously in the three years she had been away; and + she wondered if her father would realize the change in her. Either one of + two reactions on his part might, she felt, make her happy. The man might + turn suddenly and taking her hand receive her into fellowship, or he might + receive her as a woman and his daughter by kissing her. + </p> + <p> + He did neither. They drove in silence through the town and passed over a + small bridge and into the road that led to the farm. Tom was curious about + his daughter and a little uncomfortable. Ever since the evening on the + porch of the farmhouse, when he had accused her of some unnamed + relationship with John May, he had felt guilty in her presence but had + succeeded in transferring the notion of guilt to her. While she was away + at school he had been comfortable. Sometimes he did not think of her for a + month at a time. Now she had written that she did not intend to go back. + She had not asked his advice, but had said positively that she was coming + home to stay. He wondered what was up. Had she got into another affair + with a man? He wanted to ask, had intended to ask, but in her presence + found that the words he had intended to say would not come to his lips. + After a long silence Clara began to ask questions about the farm, the men + who worked there, her aunt's health, the usual home-coming questions. Her + father answered with generalities. “They're all right,” he said, “every + one and everything's all right.” + </p> + <p> + The road began to lift out of the valley in which the town lay, and Tom + stopped the horse and pointing with the whip talked of the town. He was + relieved to have the silence broken, and decided not to say anything about + the letter announcing the end of her school life. “You see there,” he + said, pointing to where the wall of a new brick factory arose above the + trees that grew beside the river. “That's a new factory we're building. + We're going to make corn-cutting machines there. The old factory's already + too small. We've sold it to a new company that's going to manufacture + bicycles. Steve Hunter and I sold it. We got twice what we paid for it. + When the bicycle factory's started, he and I'll own the control in that + too. I tell you the town's on the boom.” + </p> + <p> + Tom boasted of his new position in the town and Clara turned and looked + sharply at him and then looked quickly away. He was annoyed by the action + and a flush of anger came to his cheeks. A side of his character his + daughter had never seen before came to the surface. When he was a simple + farmer he had been too shrewd to attempt to play the aristocrat with his + farm hands, but often, as he went about the barns and as he drove along + country roads and saw men at work in his fields, he had felt like a prince + in the presence of his vassals. Now he talked like a prince. It was that + that had startled Clara. There was about him an indefinable air of + princely prosperity. When she turned to look at him she noticed for the + first time how much his person had also changed. Like Steve Hunter he was + beginning to grow fat. The lean hardness of his cheeks had gone, his jaws + seemed heavier, even his hands had changed their color. He wore a diamond + ring on the left hand and it glistened in the sunlight. “Things have + changed,” he declared, still pointing at the town. “Do you want to know + who changed it? Well, I had more to do with it than any one else. Steve + thinks he did it all, but he didn't. I'm the man who has done the most. He + put through the plant-setting machine company, but that was a failure. + When you come right down to it, things would have gone to pieces again if + I hadn't gone to John Clark and talked and bluffed him into giving us + money when we wanted it. I had most to do with finding the big market for + our corn-cutters, too. Steve lied to me and said he had 'em all sold for a + year. He didn't have any sold at all.” + </p> + <p> + Tom struck the horse with the whip and drove rapidly along the road. Even + when the climb became difficult he would not let the horse walk, but kept + cracking the whip over his back. “I'm a different man than I was when you + went away,” he declared. “You might as well know it, I'm the big man in + this town. It comes pretty near being my town when you come right down to + it. I'm going to take care of every one in Bidwell and give every one a + chance to make money, but it's my town now pretty near and you might as + well know it.” + </p> + <p> + Embarrassed by his own words, Tom talked to cover his embarrassment. + Something he wanted very much to say got itself said. “I'm glad you went + to school and fitted yourself to be a lady,” he began. “I want you should + marry pretty soon now. I don't know whether you met any one at school + there or not. If you did and he's all right, it's all right with me. I + don't want you should marry an ordinary man, but a smart one, an educated + man, a gentleman. We Butterworths are going to be bigger and bigger people + here. If you get married to a good man, a smart one, I'll build a house + for you; not just a little house but a big place, the biggest place + Bidwell ever seen.” They came to the farm and Tom stopped the buggy in the + road. He shouted to a man in the barnyard who came running for her bags. + When she had got out of the buggy he immediately turned the horse about + and drove rapidly away. Her aunt, a large, moist woman, met her on the + steps leading to the front door, and embraced her warmly. The words her + father had just spoken ran a riotous course through Clara's brain. She + realized that for a year she had been thinking of marriage, had been + wanting some man to approach and talk of marriage, but she had not thought + of the matter in the way her father had put it. The man had spoken of her + as though she were a possession of his that must be disposed of. He had a + personal interest in her marriage. It was in someway not a private matter, + but a family affair. It was her father's idea, she gathered, that she was + to go into marriage to strengthen what he called his position in the + community, to help him be some vague thing he called a big man. She + wondered if he had some one in mind and could not avoid being a little + curious as to who it could be. It had never occurred to her that her + marriage could mean anything to her father beyond the natural desire of + the parent that his child make a happy marriage. She began to grow angry + at the thought of the way in which her father had approached the subject, + but was still curious to know whether he had gone so far as to have some + one in mind for the role of husband, and thought she would try to find out + from her aunt. The strange farm hand came into the house with her bags and + she followed him upstairs to what had always been her own room. Her aunt + came puffing at her heels. The farm hand went away and she began to + unpack, while the older woman, her face very red, sat on the edge of the + bed. “You ain't been getting engaged to a man down there where you been to + school, have you, Clara?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + Clara looked at her aunt and blushed; then became suddenly and furiously + angry. Dropping the bag she had opened to the floor, she ran out of the + room. At the door she stopped and turned on the surprised and startled + woman. “No, I haven't,” she declared furiously. “It's nobody's business + whether I have or not. I went to school for an education. I didn't go to + get me a man. If that's what you sent me for, why didn't you say so?” + </p> + <p> + Clara hurried out of the house and into the barnyard. She went into all of + the barns, but there were no men about. Even the strange farm hand who had + carried her bags into the house had disappeared, and the stalls in the + horse and cattle barns were empty. Then she went into the orchard and + climbing a fence went through a meadow and into the wood to which she had + always fled, when as a girl on the farm she was troubled or angry. For a + long time she sat on a log beneath a tree and tried to think her way + through the new idea of marriage she had got from her father's words. She + was still angry and told herself that she would leave home, would go to + some city and get work. She thought of Kate Chanceller who intended to be + a doctor, and tried to picture herself attempting something of the kind. + It would take money for study. She tried to imagine herself talking to her + father about the matter and the thought made her smile. Again she wondered + if he had any definite person in mind as her husband, and who it could be. + She tried to check off her father's acquaintances among the young men of + Bidwell. “It must be some new man who has come here, some one having + something to do with one of the factories,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + After sitting on the log for a long time, Clara got up and walked under + the trees. The imaginary man, suggested to her mind by her father's words, + became every moment more and more a reality. Before her eyes danced the + laughing eyes of the young man who for a moment had lingered beside her + while Kate Chanceller talked to his companion that evening when they had + been challenged on the streets of Columbus. She remembered the young + school teacher, who had held her in his arms through a long Sunday + afternoon, and the day when, as an awakening maiden, she had heard Jim + Priest talking to the laborers in the barn about the sap that ran up the + tree. The afternoon slipped away and the shadows of the trees lengthened. + On such a day and alone there in the quiet wood, it was impossible for her + to remain in the angry mood in which she had left the house. Over her + father's farm brooded the passionate fulfillment of summer. Before her, + seen through the trees, lay yellow wheat fields, ripe for the cutting; + insects sang and danced in the air about her head; a soft wind blew and + made a gentle singing noise in the tops of the trees; at her back among + the trees a squirrel chattered; and two calves came along a woodland path + and stood for a long time staring at her with their large gentle eyes. She + arose and went out of the wood, crossed a falling meadow and came to a + rail fence surrounding a corn field. Jim Priest was cultivating corn and + when he saw her left his horses and came to her. He took both her hands in + his and pumped her arms up and down. “Well, Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see + you,” he said heartily. “Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see you.” The old farm + hand pulled a long blade of grass out of the ground beneath the fence and + leaning against the top rail began to chew it. He asked Clara the same + question her aunt had asked, but his asking did not annoy her. She laughed + and shook her head. “No, Jim,” she said, “I seem to have made a failure of + going away to school. I didn't get me a man. No one asked me, you see.” + </p> + <p> + Both the woman and the old man became silent. Over the tops of the young + corn they could see down the hillside into the distant town. Clara + wondered if the man she was to marry was there. The idea of a marriage + with her had perhaps been suggested to his mind also. Her father, she + decided, was capable of that. He was evidently ready to go to any length + to see her safely married. She wondered why. When Jim Priest began to + talk, striving to explain his question, his words fitted oddly into the + thoughts she was having in regard to herself. “Now about marriage,” he + began, “you see now, I never done it. I didn't get married at all. I don't + know why. I wanted to and I didn't. I was afraid to ask, maybe. I guess if + you do it you're sorry you did and if you don't you're sorry you didn't.” + </p> + <p> + Jim went back to his team, and Clara stood by the fence and watched him go + down the long field and turn to come back along another of the paths + between the corn rows. When the horses came to where she stood, he stopped + again and looked at her. “I guess you'll get married pretty soon now,” he + said. The horses started on again and he held the cultivating machine with + one hand and looked back over his shoulder at her. “You're one of the + marrying kind,” he called. “You ain't like me. You don't just think about + things. You do 'em. You'll be getting yourself married before very long. + You are one of the kind that does.” + </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 XI + </h2> + <p> + If many things had happened to Clara Butterworth in the three years since + that day when John May so rudely tripped her first hesitating girlish + attempt to run out to life, things had also happened to the people she had + left behind in Bidwell. In so short a space of time her father, his + business associate Steve Hunter, Ben Peeler the town carpenter, Joe + Wainsworth the harness maker, almost every man and woman in town had + become something different in his nature from the man or woman bearing the + same name she had known in her girlhood. + </p> + <p> + Ben Peeler was forty years old when Clara went to Columbus to school. He + was a tall, slender, stoop-shouldered man who worked hard and was much + respected by his fellow townsmen. Almost any afternoon he might have been + seen going through Main Street, wearing his carpenter's apron and with a + carpenter's pencil stuck under his cap and balanced on his ear. He went + into Oliver Hall's hardware store and came out with a large package of + nails under his arm. A farmer who was thinking of building a new barn + stopped him in front of the post-office and for a half hour the two men + talked of the project. Ben put on his glasses, took the pencil out of his + cap and made some notation on the back of the package of nails. “I'll do a + little figuring; then I'll talk things over with you,” he said. During the + spring, summer and fall Ben had always employed another carpenter and an + apprentice, but when Clara came back to town he was employing four gangs + of six men each and had two foremen to watch the work and keep it moving, + while his son, who in other times would also have been a carpenter, had + become a salesman, wore fancy vests and lived in Chicago. Ben was making + money and for two years had not driven a nail or held a saw in his hand. + He had an office in a frame building beside the New York Central tracks, + south of Main Street, and employed a book-keeper and a stenographer. In + addition to carpentry he had embarked in another business. Backed by + Gordon Hart, he had become a lumber dealer and bought and sold lumber + under the firm name of Peeler and Hart. Almost every day cars of lumber + were unloaded and stacked under sheds in the yard back of his office. He + was no longer satisfied with his income as a workman but, under the + influence of Gordon Hart, demanded also a swinging profit on the building + materials. Ben now drove about town in a vehicle called a buckboard and + spent the entire day hurrying from job to job. He had no time now to stop + for a half hour's gossip with a prospective builder of a barn, and did not + come to loaf in Birdie Spinks' drug-store at the end of the day. In the + evening he went to the lumber office and Gordon Hart came over from the + bank. The two men figured on jobs to be built, rows of workingmen's + houses, sheds alongside one of the new factories, large frame houses for + the superintendents and other substantial men of the town's new + enterprises. In the old days Ben had been glad to go occasionally into the + country on a barn-building job. He had liked the country food, the gossip + with the farmer and his men at the noon hour and the drive back and forth + to town, mornings and evenings. While he was in the country he managed to + make a deal for his winter potatoes, hay for his horse, and perhaps a + barrel of cider to drink on winter evenings. Now he had no time to think + of such things. When a farmer came to see him he shook his head. “Get some + one else to figure on your job,” he advised. “You'll save money by getting + a barn-building carpenter. I can't bother. I have too many houses to + build.” Ben and Gordon sometimes worked in the lumber office until + midnight. On warm still nights the sweet smell of new-cut boards filled + the air of the yard and crept in through the open windows, but the two + men, intent on their figures, did not notice. In the early evening one or + two teams came back to the yard to finish hauling lumber to a job where + the men were to work on the next day. The voices of the men, talking and + singing as they loaded their wagons, broke the silence. Later the wagons + loaded high with boards went creaking away. When the two men grew tired + and sleepy, they locked the office and walked through the yard to the + driveway that led to a residence street. Ben was nervous and irritable. + One evening they found three men, sleeping on a pile of boards in the + yard, and drove them out. It gave both men something to think about. + Gordon Hart went home and before he slept made up his mind that he would + not let another day go by without getting the lumber in the yard more + heavily insured. Ben had not handled affairs long enough to come quickly + to so sensible a decision. All night he rolled and tumbled about in his + bed. “Some tramp with his pipe will set the place afire,” he thought. + “I'll lose all the money I've made.” For a long time he did not think of + the simple expedient of hiring a watchman to drive sleepy and penniless + wanderers away, and charging enough more for his lumber to cover the + additional expense. He got out of bed and dressed, thinking he would get + his shotgun out of the barn and go back to the yard and spend the night. + Then he undressed and got into bed again. “I can't work all day and spend + my nights down there,” he thought resentfully. When at last he slept, he + dreamed of sitting in the lumber yard in the darkness with the gun in his + hand. A man came toward him and he discharged the gun and killed the man. + With the inconsistency common to the physical aspect of dreams, the + darkness passed away and it was daylight. The man he had thought dead was + not quite dead. Although the whole side of his head was torn away, he + still breathed. His mouth opened and closed convulsively. A dreadful + illness took possession of the carpenter. He had an elder brother who had + died when he was a boy, but the face of the man on the ground was the face + of his brother. Ben sat up in bed and shouted. “Help, for God's sake, + help! It's my own brother. Don't you see, it is Harry Peeler?” he cried. + His wife awoke and shook him. “What's the matter, Ben,” she asked + anxiously. “What's the matter?” “It was a dream,” he said, and let his + head drop wearily on the pillow. His wife went to sleep again, but he + stayed awake the rest of the night. When on the next morning Gordon Hart + suggested the insurance idea, he was delighted. “That settles it of + course,” he said to himself. “It's simple enough, you see. That settles + everything.” + </p> + <p> + In his shop on Main Street Joe Wainsworth had plenty to do after the boom + came to Bidwell. Many teams were employed in the hauling of building + materials; loads of paving brick were being carted from cars to where they + were to be laid on Main Street; and teams hauled earth from where the new + Main Street sewer was being dug and from the freshly dug cellars of + houses. Never had there been so many teams employed and so much repairing + of harness to do. Joe's apprentice had left him, had been carried off by + the rush of young men to the places where the boom had arrived earlier. + For a year Joe had worked alone and had then employed a journeyman harness + maker who had drifted into town drunk and who got drunk every Saturday + evening. The new man was an odd character. He had a faculty for making + money, but seemed to care little about making it for himself. Within a + week after he came to town he knew every one in Bidwell. His name was Jim + Gibson and he had no sooner come to work for Joe than a contest arose + between them. The contest concerned the question of who was to run the + shop. For a time Joe asserted himself. He growled at the men who brought + harness in to be repaired, and refused to make promises as to when the + work would be done. Several jobs were taken away and sent to nearby towns. + Then Jim Gibson asserted himself. When one of the teamsters who had come + to town with the boom came with a heavy work harness on his shoulder, he + went to meet him. The harness was thrown with a rattling crash on the + floor and Jim examined it. “Oh, the devil, that's an easy job,” he + declared. “We'll fix that up in a jiffy. You can have it to-morrow + afternoon if you want it.” + </p> + <p> + For a time Jim made it a practice to come to where Joe stood at work at + his bench and consult with him regarding prices to be charged for work. + Then he returned to the customer and charged more than Joe had suggested. + After a few weeks he slopped consulting Joe at all. “You're no good,” he + exclaimed, laughing. “What you're doing in business I don't know.” The old + harness maker stared at him for a minute and then went to his bench and to + work. “Business,” he muttered, “what do I know about business? I'm a + harness maker, I am.” + </p> + <p> + After Jim came to work for him, Joe made in one year almost twice the + amount he had lost in the failure of the plant-setting machine factory. + The money was not invested in stock of any factory but lay in the bank. + Still he was not happy. All day Jim Gibson, whom Joe had never dared tell + the tales of his triumph as a workman and to whom he did not brag as he + had formerly done to his apprentices, talked of his ability to get the + best of customers. He had, he declared, managed, in the last place he had + worked before he came to Bidwell, to sell a good many sets of harness as + handmade that were in reality made in a factory. “It isn't like the old + times,” he said, “things are changing. We used to sell harness only to + farmers or to teamsters right in our towns who owned their own horses. We + always knew the men we did business with and always would know them. Now + it's different. The men now, you see, who are here in this town to work—well, + next month or next year they'll be somewhere else. All they care about you + and me is how much work they can get for a dollar. Of course they talk big + about honesty and all that stuff, but that's only their guff. They think + maybe we'll fall for it and they'll get more for the money they pay out. + That's what they're up to.” + </p> + <p> + Jim tried hard to make his version of how the shop should be run clear to + his employer. Every day he talked for hours regarding the matter. He tried + to get Joe to put in a stock of factory-made harness and when he was + unsuccessful was angry. “O the devil,” he cried. “Can't you understand + what you're up against? The factories are bound to win. For why? Look + here, there can't any one but some old moss-back who has worked around + horses all his life tell the difference between hand- and machine-sewed + harness. The machine-made can be sold cheaper. It looks all right and the + factories are able to put on a lot of do-dads. That catches the young + fellows. It's good business. Quick sales and profits, that's the story.” + Jim laughed and then said something that made the shivers run up and down + Joe's back. “If I had the money and was steady I'd start a shop in this + town and show you up,” he said. “I'd pretty near run you out. The trouble + with me is I wouldn't stick to business if I had the money. I tried it + once and made money; then when I got a little ahead I shut up the shop and + went on a big drunk. I was no good for a month. When I work for some one + else I'm all right. I get drunk on Saturdays and that satisfies me. I like + to work and scheme for money, but it ain't any good to me when I get it + and never will be. What I want you to do here is to shut your eyes and + give me a chance. That's all I ask. Just shut your eyes and give me a + chance.” + </p> + <p> + All day Joe sat astride his harness maker's horse, and when he was not at + work, stared out through a dirty window into an alleyway and tried to + understand Jim's idea of what a harness maker's attitude should be toward + his customers, now that new times had come. He felt very old. Although Jim + was as old in years lived as himself, he seemed very young. He began to be + a little afraid of the man. He could not understand why the money, nearly + twenty-five hundred dollars he had put in the bank during the two years + Jim had been with him, seemed so unimportant and the twelve hundred + dollars he had earned slowly after twenty years of work seemed so + important. As there was much repair work always waiting to be done in the + shop, he did not go home to lunch, but every day carried a few sandwiches + to the shop in his pocket. At the noon hour, when Jim had gone to his + boarding-house, he was alone, and if no one came in, he was happy. It + seemed to him the best time of the day. Every few minutes he went to the + front door to look out. The quiet Main Street, on which his shop had faced + since he was a young man just come home from his trade adventures, and + which had always been such a sleepy place at the noon hour in the summer, + was now like a battle-field from which an army had retreated. A great gash + had been cut in the street where the new sewer was to be laid. Swarms of + workingmen, most of them strangers, had come into Main Street from the + factories by the railroad tracks. They stood in groups in lower Main + Street by Wymer's tobacco store. Some of them had gone into Ben Head's + saloon for a glass of beer and came out wiping their mustaches. The men + who were digging the sewer, foreign men, Italians he had heard, sat on the + banks of dry earth in the middle of the street. Their dinner pails were + held between their legs and as they ate they talked in a strange language. + He remembered the day he had come to Bidwell with his bride, the girl he + had met on his trade journey and who had waited for him until he had + mastered his trade and had a shop of his own. He had gone to New York + State to get her and had arrived back in Bidwell at noon on just such + another summer day. There had not been many people about, but every one + had known him. On that day every one had been his friend. Birdie Spinks + rushed out of his drug store and had insisted that he and his bride go + home to dinner with him. Every one had wanted them to come to his house + for dinner. It had been a happy, joyous time. + </p> + <p> + The harness maker had always been sorry his wife had borne him no + children. He had said nothing and had always pretended he did not want + them and now, at last, he was glad they had not come. He went back to his + bench and to work, hoping Jim would be late in getting back from lunch. + The shop was very quiet after the activity of the street that had so + bewildered him. It was, he thought, like a retreat, almost like a church + when you went to the door and looked in on a week day. He had done that + once and had liked the empty silent church better than he did a church + with a preacher and a lot of people in it. He had told his wife about the + matter. “It was like the shop in the evening when I've got a job of work + done and the boy has gone home,” he had said. + </p> + <p> + The harness maker looked out through the open door of his shop and saw Tom + Butterworth and Steve Hunter going along Main Street, engaged in earnest + conversation. Steve had a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth and Tom + had on a fancy vest. He thought again of the money he had lost in the + plant-setting machine venture and was furious. The noon hour was spoiled + and he was almost glad when Jim came back from his mid-day meal. + </p> + <p> + The position in which he found himself in the shop amused Jim Gibson. He + chuckled to himself as he waited on the customers who came in, and as he + worked at the bench. One day when he came back along Main Street from the + noon meal, he decided to try an experiment. “If I lose my job what + difference does it make?” he asked himself. He stopped at a saloon and had + a drink of whisky. When he got to the shop he began to scold his employer, + to threaten him as though he were his apprentice. Swaggering suddenly in, + he walked to where Joe was at work and slapped him roughly on the back. + “Come, cheer up, old daddy,” he said. “Get the gloom out of you. I'm tired + of your muttering and growling at things.” + </p> + <p> + The employee stepped back and watched his employer. Had Joe ordered him + out of the shop he would not have been surprised, and as he said later + when he told Ben Head's bartender of the incident, would not have cared + very much. The fact that he did not care, no doubt saved him. Joe was + frightened. For just a moment he was so angry he could not speak, and then + he remembered that if Jim left him he would have to wait on trade and + would have to dicker with the strange teamsters regarding the repairing of + the work harness. Bending over the bench he worked for an hour in silence. + Then, instead of demanding an explanation of the rude familiarity with + which Jim had treated him, he began to explain. “Now look here, Jim,” he + pleaded, “don't you pay any attention to me. You do as you please here. + Don't you pay any attention to me.” + </p> + <p> + Jim said nothing, but a smile of triumph lit up his face. Late in the + afternoon he left the shop. “If any one comes in, tell them to wait. I + won't be gone very long,” he said insolently. Jim went into Ben Head's + saloon and told the bartender how his experiment had come out. The story + was later told from store to store up and down the Main Street of Bidwell. + “He was like a boy who has been caught with his hand in the jam pot,” Jim + explained. “I can't think what's the matter with him. Had I been in his, + shoes I would have kicked Jim Gibson out of the shop. He told me not to + pay any attention to him and to run the shop as I pleased. Now what do you + think of that? Now what do you think of that for a man who owns his own + shop and has money in the bank? I tell you, I don't know how it is, but I + don't work for Joe any more. He works for me. Some day you come in the + shop casual-like and I'll boss him around for you. I'm telling you I don't + know how it is that it come about, but I'm the boss of the shop as sure as + the devil.” + </p> + <p> + All of Bidwell was looking at itself and asking itself questions. Ed Hall, + who had been a carpenter's apprentice earning but a few dollars a week + with his master, Ben Peeler, was now foreman in the corn-cutter factory + and received a salary of twenty-five dollars every Saturday night. It was + more money than he had ever dreamed of earning in a week. On pay nights he + dressed himself in his Sunday clothes and had himself shaved at Joe + Trotter's barber shop. Then he went along Main Street, fingering the money + in his pocket and half fearing he would suddenly awaken and find it all a + dream. He went into Wymer's tobacco store to get a cigar, and old Claude + Wymer came to wait on him. On the second Saturday evening after he got his + new position, the tobacconist, a rather obsequious man, called him Mr. + Hall. It was the first time such a thing had happened and it upset him a + little. He laughed and made a joke of it. “Don't get high and mighty,” he + said, and turned to wink at the men loafing in the shop. Later he thought + about the matter and was sorry he had not accepted the new title without + protest. “Well, I'm foreman, and a lot of the young fellows I've always + known and fooled around with will be working under me,” he told himself. + “I can't be getting thick with them.” + </p> + <p> + Ed walked along the street feeling very keenly the importance of his new + place in the community. Other young fellows in the factory were getting a + dollar and a half a day. At the end of the week he got twenty-five + dollars, almost three times as much. The money was an indication of + superiority. There could be no doubt about that. Ever since he had been a + boy he had heard older men speak respectfully of men who possessed money. + “Get on in the world,” they said to young men, when they talked seriously. + Among themselves they did not pretend that they did not want money. “It's + money makes the mare go,” they said. + </p> + <p> + Down Main Street to the New York Central tracks Ed went, and then turned + out of the street and disappeared into the station. The evening train had + passed and the place was deserted. He went into the dimly lighted + waiting-room. An oil lamp, turned low, and fastened by a bracket to the + wall made a little circle of light in a corner. The room was like a church + in the early morning of a wintry day, cold and still. He went hurriedly to + the light, and taking the roll of money from his pocket, counted it. Then + he went out of the room and along the station platform almost to Main + Street, but was not satisfied. On an impulse he returned to the waiting + room again and, late in the evening on his way home, he stopped there for + a final counting of the money before he went to bed. + </p> + <p> + Peter Fry was a blacksmith and had a son who was clerk in the Bidwell + Hotel. He was a tall young fellow with curly yellow hair and watery blue + eyes and smoked cigarettes, a habit that was an offense to the nostrils of + the men of his times. His name was Jacob, but he was called in derision + Fizzy Fry. The young man's mother was dead and he got his meals at the + hotel and at night slept on a cot in the hotel office. He had a passion + for gayly colored neckties and waistcoats and was forever trying + unsuccessfully to attract the attention of the town girls. When he and his + father met on the street, they did not speak to each other. Sometimes the + father stopped and stared at his son. “How did I happen to be the father + of a thing like that?” he muttered aloud. + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith was a square-shouldered, heavily built man with a bushy + black beard and a tremendous voice. When he was a young man he sang in the + Methodist choir, but after his wife died he stopped going to church and + began putting his voice to other uses. He smoked a short clay pipe that + had become black with age and that at night could not be seen against his + black curly beard. Smoke rolled out of his mouth in clouds and appeared to + come up out of his belly. He was like a volcanic mountain and was called, + by the men who loafed in Birdie Spinks' drug store, Smoky Pete. + </p> + <p> + Smoky Pete was in more ways than one like a mountain given to eruptions. + He did not get drunk, but after his wife died he got into the habit of + having two or three drinks of whisky every evening. The whisky inflamed + his mind and he strode up and down Main Street, ready to quarrel with any + one his eye lighted upon. He got into the habit of roaring at his fellow + citizens and making ribald jokes at their expense. Every one was a little + afraid of him and he became in an odd way the guardian of the town morals. + Sandy Ferris, a house painter, became a drunkard and did not support his + family. Smoky Pete abused him in the public streets and in the sight of + all men. “You cheap thing, warming your belly with whisky while jour + children freeze, why don't you try being a man?” he shouted at the house + painter, who staggered into a side street and went to sleep off his + intoxication in a stall in Clyde Neighbors' livery barn. The blacksmith + kept at the painter until the whole town took up his cry and the saloons + became ashamed to accept his custom. He was forced to reform. + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith did not, however, discriminate in the choice of victims. + His was not the spirit of the reformer. A merchant of Bidwell, who had + always been highly respected and who was an elder in his church, went one + evening to the county seat and there got into the company of a notorious + woman known throughout the county as Nell Hunter. The two went into a + little room at the back of a saloon and were seen by two Bidwell young men + who had gone to the county seat for an evening of adventure. When the + merchant, named Pen Beck, realized he had been seen, he was afraid the + tale of his indiscretion would be carried to his home town, and left the + woman to join the young men. He was not a drinking man, but began at once + to buy drinks for his companions. The three got very drunk and drove home + together late at night in a rig the young men had hired for the occasion + from Clyde Neighbors. On the way the merchant kept trying to explain his + presence in the company of the woman. “Don't say anything about it,” he + urged. “It would be misunderstood. I have a friend whose son has been + taken in by the woman. I was trying to get her to let him alone.” + </p> + <p> + The two young men were delighted that they had caught the merchant off his + guard. “It's all right,” they assured him. “Be a good fellow and we won't + tell your wife or the minister of your church.” When they had all the + drinks they could carry, they got the merchant into the buggy and began to + whip the horse. They had driven half way to Bidwell and all of them had + fallen into a drunken sleep, when the horse became frightened at something + in the road and ran away. The buggy was overturned and they were all + thrown into the road. One of the young men had an arm broken and Pen + Beck's coat was almost torn in two. He paid the young man's doctor's bill + and settled with Clyde Neighbors for the damage to the buggy. + </p> + <p> + For a long time the story of the merchant's adventure did not leak out, + and when it did, but a few intimate friends of the young men knew it. Then + it reached the ears of Smoky Pete. On the day he heard it he could hardly + bear to wait until evening came. He hurried to Ben Head's saloon, had two + drinks of whisky and then went to stand with the loafers before Birdie + Spinks' drug store. At half past seven Pen Beck turned into Main Street + from Cherry Street, where he lived. When he was more than three blocks + away from the crowd of men before the drug store, Smoky Pete's roaring + voice began to question him. “Well, Penny, my lad, so you went for a night + among the ladies?” he shouted. “You've been fooling around with my girl, + Nell Hunter, over at the county seat. I'd like to know what you mean. + You'll have to make an explanation to me.” + </p> + <p> + The merchant stopped and stood on the sidewalk, unable to decide whether + to face his tormentor or flee. It was just at the quiet time of the + evening when the housewives of the town had finished their evening's work + and stood resting by the kitchen doors. It seemed to Pen Beck that Smoky + Pete's voice could be heard for a mile. He decided to face it out and if + necessary to fight the blacksmith. As he came hurriedly toward the group + before the drug store, Smoky Pete's voice took up the story of the + merchant's wild night. He stepped out from the men in front of the store + and seemed to be addressing himself to the whole street. Clerks, + merchants, and customers rushed out of the stores. “Well,” he cried, “so + you made a night of it with my girl Nell Hunter. When you sat with her in + the back room of the saloon you didn't know I was there. I was hidden + under a table. If you'd done anything more than bite her on the neck I'd + have come out and called you to time.” + </p> + <p> + Smoky Pete broke into a roaring laugh and waved his arms to the people + gathered in the street and wondering what it was all about. It was for him + one of the really delicious spots of his life. He tried to explain to the + people what he was talking about. “He was with Nell Hunter in the back + room of a saloon over at the county seat,” he shouted. “Edgar Duncan and + Dave Oldham saw him there. He came home with them and the horse ran away. + He didn't commit adultery. I don't want you to think that happened. All + that happened was he bit my best girl, Nell Hunter, on the neck. That's + what makes me so mad. I don't like to have her bitten by him. She is my + girl and belongs to me.” + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith, forerunner of the modern city newspaper reporter in his + love of taking the center of the stage in order to drag into public sight + the misfortunes of his fellows, did not finish his tirade. The merchant, + white with anger, rushed up and struck him a blow on the chest with his + small and rather fat fist. The blacksmith knocked him into the gutter and + later, when he was arrested, went proudly off to the office of the town + mayor and paid his fine. + </p> + <p> + It was said by the enemies of Smoky Pete that he had not taken a bath for + years. He lived alone in a small frame house at the edge of town. Behind + his house was a large field. The house itself was unspeakably dirty. When + the factories came to town, Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter bought the + field intending to cut it into building lots. They wanted to buy the + blacksmith's house and finally did secure it by paying a high price. He + agreed to move out within a year but after the money was paid repented and + wished he had not sold. A rumor began to run about town connecting the + name of Tom Butterworth with that of Fanny Twist, the town milliner. It + was said the rich farmer had been seen coming out of her shop late at + night. The blacksmith also heard another story whispered in the streets. + Louise Trucker, the farmer's daughter who had at one time been seen + creeping through a side street in the company of young Steve Hunter, had + gone to Cleveland and it was said she had become the proprietor of a + prosperous house of ill fame. Steve's money, it was declared, had been + used to set her up in business. The two stories offered unlimited + opportunity for expansion in the blacksmith's mind, but while he was + preparing himself to do what he called bringing the two men down in the + sight and hearing of the whole town, a thing happened that upset his + plans. His son Fizzy Fry left his place as clerk in the hotel and went to + work in the corn-cutting machine factory. One day his father saw him + coming from the factory at noon with a dozen other workmen. The young man + had on overalls and smoked a pipe. When he saw his father he stopped, and + when the other men had gone on, explained his sudden transformation. “I'm + in the shop now, but I won't be there long,” he said proudly. “You know + Tom Butterworth stays at the hotel? Well, he's given me a chance. I got to + stay in the shop for a while to learn about things. After that I'm to have + a chance as shipping clerk. Then I'll be a traveler on the road.” He + looked at his father and his voice broke. “You haven't thought very much + of me, but I'm not so bad,” he said. “I don't want to be a sissy, but I'm + not very strong. I worked at the hotel because there wasn't anything else + I thought I could do.” + </p> + <p> + Peter Fry went home to his house but could not eat the food he had cooked + for himself on the tiny stove in the kitchen. He went outdoors and stood + for a long time, looking out across the cow-pasture Tom Butterworth and + Steve Hunter had bought and that they proposed should become a part of the + rapidly growing city. He had himself taken no part in the new impulses + that had come upon the town, except that he had taken advantage of the + failure of the town's first industrial effort to roar insults at those of + his townsmen who had lost their money. One evening he and Ed Hall had got + into a fight about the matter on Main Street, and the blacksmith had been + compelled to pay another fine. Now he wondered what was the matter with + him. He had evidently made a mistake about his son. Had he made a mistake + about Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter? + </p> + <p> + The perplexed man went back to his shop and all the afternoon worked in + silence. His heart had been set on the creation of a dramatic scene on + Main Street, when he openly attacked the two most prominent men of the + town, and he even pictured himself as likely to be put in the town jail + where he would have an opportunity to roar things through the iron bars at + the citizens gathered in the street. In anticipation of such an event, he + had prepared himself to attack the reputation of other people. He had + never attacked women but, if he were locked up, he intended to do so. John + May had once told him that Tom Butterworth's daughter, who had been away + to college for a year, had been sent away because she was in the family + way. John May had claimed he was responsible for her condition. Several of + Tom's farm hands he said had been on intimate terms with the girl. The + blacksmith had told himself that if he got into trouble for publicly + attacking the father he would be justified in telling what he knew about + the daughter. + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith did not come into Main Street that evening. As he went home + from work he saw Tom Butterworth standing with Steve Hunter before the + post-office. For several weeks Tom had been spending most of his time away + from town, had only appeared in town for a few hours at a time, and had + not been seen on the streets in the evening. The blacksmith had been + waiting to catch both men on the street at one time. Now that this + opportunity had come, he began to be afraid he would not dare take it. + “What right have I to spoil my boy's chances?” he asked himself, as he + went rather heavily along the street toward his own house. + </p> + <p> + It rained on that evening and for the first time in years Smoky Pete did + not go into Main Street. He told himself that the rain kept him at home, + but the thought did not satisfy him. All evening he moved restlessly about + the house and at half past eight went to bed. He did not, however, sleep, + but lay with his trousers on and with his pipe in his mouth, trying to + think. Every few minutes he took the pipe from his mouth, blew out a cloud + of smoke and swore viciously. At ten o'clock the farmer, who had owned the + cow-pasture back of his house and who still kept his cows there, saw his + neighbor tramping about in the rain in the field and saying things he had + planned to say on Main Street in the hearing of the entire town. + </p> + <p> + The farmer also had gone to bed early, but at ten o'clock he decided that, + as the rain continued to fall and as it was growing somewhat cold, he had + better get up and let his cows into the barn. He did not dress, but threw + a blanket about his shoulders and went out without a light. He let down + the bars separating the field from the barnyard and then saw and heard + Smoky Pete in the field. The blacksmith walked back and forth in the + darkness, and as the farmer stood by the fence, began to talk in a loud + voice. “Well, Tom Butterworth, you're fooling around with Fanny Twist,” he + cried into the silence and emptiness of the night. “You're sneaking into + her shop late at night, eh? Steve Hunter has set Louise Trucker up in + business in a house in Cleveland. Are you and Fanny Twist going to open a + house here? Is that the next industrial enterprise we're to have here in + this town?” + </p> + <p> + The amazed farmer stood in the rain in the darkness, listening to the + words of his neighbor. The cows came through the gate and went into the + barn. His bare legs were cold and he drew them alternately up under the + blanket. For ten minutes Peter Fry tramped up and down in the field. Once + he came quite near the farmer, who drew himself down beside the fence and + listened, filled with amazement and fright. He could dimly see the tall, + old man striding along and waving his arms about. When he had said many + bitter, hateful things regarding the two most prominent men of Bidwell, he + began to abuse Tom Butterworth's daughter, calling her a bitch and the + daughter of a dog. The farmer waited until Smoky Pete had gone back to his + house and, when he saw a light in the kitchen, and fancied he could also + see his neighbor cooking food at a stove, he went again into his own + house. He had himself never quarreled with Smoky Pete and was glad. He was + glad also that the field at the back of his house had been sold. He + intended to sell the rest of his farm and move west to Illinois. “The + man's crazy,” he told himself. “Who but a crazy man would talk that way in + the darkness? I suppose I ought to report him and get him locked up, but I + guess I'll forget what I heard. A man who would talk like that about nice + respectable people would do anything. He might set fire to my house some + night or something like that. I guess I'll just forget what I heard.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK FOUR + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + After the success of his corn cutting machine and the apparatus for + unloading coal cars that brought him a hundred thousand dollars in cash, + Hugh could not remain the isolated figure he had been all through the + first several years of his life in the Ohio community. From all sides men + reached out their hands to him: and more than one woman thought she would + like to be his wife. All men lead their lives behind a wall of + misunderstanding they themselves have built, and most men die in silence + and unnoticed behind the walls. Now and then a man, cut off from his + fellows by the peculiarities of his nature, becomes absorbed in doing + something that is impersonal, useful, and beautiful. Word of his + activities is carried over the walls. His name is shouted and is carried + by the wind into the tiny inclosure in which other men live and in which + they are for the most part absorbed in doing some petty task for the + furtherance of their own comfort. Men and women stop their complaining + about the unfairness and inequality of life and wonder about the man whose + name they have heard. + </p> + <p> + From Bidwell, Ohio, to farms all over the Middle West, Hugh McVey's name + had been carried. His machine for cutting corn was called the McVey + Corn-Cutter. The name was printed in white letters against a background of + red on the side of the machine. Farmer boys in the States of Indiana, + Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and all the great corn-growing States + saw it and in idle moments wondered what kind of man had invented the + machine they operated. A Cleveland newspaper man came to Bidwell and went + to Pickleville to see Hugh. He wrote a story telling of Hugh's early + poverty and his efforts to become an inventor. When the reporter talked to + Hugh he found the inventor so embarrassed and uncommunicative that he gave + up trying to get a story. Then he went to Steve Hunter who talked to him + for an hour. The story made Hugh a strikingly romantic figure. His people, + the story said, came out of the mountains of Tennessee, but they were not + poor whites. It was suggested that they were of the best English stock. + There was a tale of Hugh's having in his boyhood contrived some kind of an + engine that carried water from a valley to a mountain community; another + of his having seen a clock in a store in a Missouri town and of his having + later made a clock of wood for his parents; and a tale of his having gone + into the forest with his father's gun, shot a wild hog and carried it down + the mountain side on his shoulder in order to get money to buy school + books. After the tale was printed the advertising manager of the + corn-cutter factory got Hugh to go with him one day to Tom Butterworth's + farm. Many bushels of corn were brought out of the corn cribs and a great + mountain of corn was built on the ground at the edge of a field. Back of + the mountain of corn was a corn field just coming into tassel. Hugh was + told to climb up on the mountain and sit there. Then his picture was + taken. It was sent to newspapers all over the West with copies of the + biography cut from the Cleveland paper. Later both the picture and the + biography were used in the catalogue that described the McVey Corn-Cutter. + </p> + <p> + The cutting of corn and putting it in shocks against the time of the + husking is heavy work. In recent times it has come about that much of the + corn grown on mid-American prairie lands is not cut. The corn is left + standing in the fields, and men go through it in the late fall to pick the + yellow ears. The workers throw the corn over their shoulders into a wagon + driven by a boy, who follows them in their slow progress, and it is then + hauled away to the cribs. When a field has been picked, the cattle are + turned in and all winter they nibble at the dry corn blades and tramp the + stalks into the ground. All day long on the wide western prairies when the + gray fall days have come, you may see the men and the horses working their + way slowly through the fields. Like tiny insects they crawl across the + immense landscapes. After them in the late fall and in the winter when the + prairies are covered with snow, come the cattle. They are brought from the + far West in cattle cars and after they have nibbled the corn blades all + day, are taken to barns and stuffed to bursting with corn. When they are + fat they are sent to the great killing-pens in Chicago, the giant city of + the prairies. In the still fall nights, as you stand on prairie roads or + in the barnyard back of one of the farm houses, you may hear the rustling + of the dry corn blades and then the crash of the heavy bodies of the + beasts going forward as they nibble and trample the corn. + </p> + <p> + In earlier days the method of corn harvesting was different. There was + poetry in the operation then as there is now, but it was set to another + rhythm. When the corn was ripe men went into the fields with heavy corn + knives and cut the stalks of corn close to the ground. The stalks were cut + with the right hand swinging the corn knife and carried on the left arm. + All day a man carried a heavy load of the stalks from which yellow ears + hung down. When the load became unbearably heavy it was carried to the + shock, and when all the corn was cut in a certain area, the shock was made + secure by binding it with tarred rope or with a tough stalk twisted to + take the place of the rope. When the cutting was done the long rows of + stalks stood up in the fields like sentinels, and the men crawled off to + the farmhouses and to bed, utterly weary. + </p> + <p> + Hugh's machine took all of the heavier part of the work away. It cut the + corn near the ground and bound it into bundles that fell upon a platform. + Two men followed the machine, one to drive the horses and the other to + place the bundles of stalks against the shocks and to bind the completed + shocks. The men went along smoking their pipes and talking. The horses + stopped and the driver stared out over the prairies. His arms did not ache + with weariness and he had time to think. The wonder and mystery of the + wide open places got a little into his blood. At night when the work was + done and the cattle fed and made comfortable in the barns, he did not go + at once to bed but sometimes went out of his house and stood for a moment + under the stars. + </p> + <p> + This thing the brain of the son of a mountain man, the poor white of the + river town, had done for the people of the plains. The dreams he had tried + so hard to put away from him and that the New England woman Sarah Shepard + had told him would lead to his destruction had come to something. The + car-dumping apparatus, that had sold for two hundred thousand dollars, had + given Steve Hunter money to buy the plant-setting machine factory, and + with Tom Butterworth to start manufacturing the corn-cutters, had affected + the lives of fewer people, but it had carried the Missourian's name into + other places and had also made a new kind of poetry in railroad yards and + along rivers at the back of cities where ships are loaded. On city nights + as you lie in your houses you may hear suddenly a long reverberating roar. + It is a giant that has cleared his throat of a carload of coal. Hugh McVey + helped to free the giant. He is still doing it. In Bidwell, Ohio, he is + still at it, making new inventions, cutting the bands that have bound the + giant. He is one man who had not been swept aside from his purpose by the + complexity of life. + </p> + <p> + That, however, came near happening. After the coming of his success, a + thousand little voices began calling to him. The soft hands of women + reached out of the masses of people about him, out of the old dwellers and + new dwellers in the city that was growing up about the factories where his + machines were being made in ever increasing numbers. New houses were + constantly being built along Turner's Pike that led down to his workshop + at Pickleville. Beside Allie Mulberry a dozen mechanics were now employed + in his experimental shop. They helped Hugh with a new invention, a + hay-loading apparatus on which he was at work, and also made special tools + for use in the corn-cutter factory and the new bicycle factory. A dozen + new houses had been built in Pickleville itself. The wives of the + mechanics lived in the houses and occasionally one of them came to see her + husband at Hugh's shop. He found it less and less difficult to talk to + people. The workmen, themselves not given to the use of many words, did + not think his habitual silence peculiar. They were more skilled than Hugh + in the use of tools and thought it rather an accident that he had done + what they had not done. As he had grown rich by that road they also tried + their hand at inventions. One of them made a patent door hinge that Steve + sold for ten thousand dollars, keeping half the money for his services, as + he had done in the case of Hugh's car-dumping apparatus. At the noon hour + the men hurried to their houses to eat and then came back to loaf before + the factory and smoke their noonday pipes. They talked of money-making, of + the price of food stuffs, of the advisability of a man's buying a house on + the partial payment plan. Sometimes they talked of women and of their + adventures with women. Hugh sat by himself inside the door of the shop and + listened. At night after he had gone to bed he thought of what they had + said. He lived in a house belonging to a Mrs. McCoy, the widow of a + railroad section hand killed in a railroad accident, who had a daughter. + The daughter, Rose McCoy, taught a country school and most of the year was + away from home from Monday morning until late on Friday afternoon. Hugh + lay in bed thinking of what his workmen had said of women and heard the + old housekeeper moving about down stairs. Sometimes he got out of bed to + sit by an open window. Because she was the woman whose life touched his + most closely, he thought often of the school teacher. The McCoy house, a + small frame affair with a picket fence separating it from Turner's Pike, + stood with its back door facing the Wheeling Railroad. The section hands + on the railroad remembered their former fellow workman, Mike McCoy, and + wanted to be good to his widow. They sometimes dumped half decayed + railroad ties over the fence into a potato patch back of the house. At + night, when heavily loaded coal trains rumbled past, the brakemen heaved + large chunks of coal over the fence. The widow awoke whenever a train + passed. When one of the brakemen threw a chunk of coal he shouted and his + voice could be heard above the rumble of the coal cars. “That's for Mike,” + he cried. Sometimes one of the chunks knocked a picket out of the fence + and the next day Hugh put it back again. When the train had passed the + widow got out of bed and brought the coal into the house. “I don't want to + give the boys away by leaving it lying around in the daylight,” she + explained to Hugh. On Sunday mornings Hugh took a crosscut saw and cut the + railroad ties into lengths that would go into the kitchen stove. Slowly + his place in the McCoy household had become fixed, and when he received + the hundred thousand dollars and everybody, even the mother and daughter, + expected him to move, he did not do so. He tried unsuccessfully to get the + widow to take more money for his board and when that effort failed, life + in the McCoy household went as it had when he was a telegraph operator + receiving forty dollars a month. + </p> + <p> + In the spring or fall, as he sat by his window at night, and when the moon + came up and the dust in Turner's Pike was silvery white, Hugh thought of + Rose McCoy, sleeping in some farmer's house. It did not occur to him that + she might also be awake and thinking. He imagined her lying very still in + bed. The section hand's daughter was a slender woman of thirty with tired + blue eyes and red hair. Her skin had been heavily freckled in her youth + and her nose was still freckled. Although Hugh did not know it, she had + once been in love with George Pike, the Wheeling station agent, and a day + had been set for the marriage. Then a difficulty arose in regard to + religious beliefs and George Pike married another woman. It was then she + became a school teacher. She was a woman of few words and she and Hugh had + never been alone together, but as Hugh sat by the window on fall evenings, + she lay awake in a room in the farmer's house, where she was boarding + during the school season, and thought of him. She thought that had Hugh + remained a telegraph operator at forty dollars a month something might + have happened between them. Then she had other thoughts, or rather, + sensations that had little to do with thoughts. The room in which she lay + was very still and a streak of moonlight came in through the window. In + the barn back of the farmhouse she could hear the cattle stirring about. A + pig grunted and in the stillness that followed she could hear the farmer, + who lay in the next room with his wife, snoring gently. Rose was not very + strong and the physical did not rule in her nature, but she was very + lonely and thought that, like the farmer's wife, she would like to have a + man to lie with her. Warmth crept over her body and her lips became dry so + that she moistened them with her tongue. Had you been able to creep + unobserved into the room, you might have thought her much like a kitten + lying by a stove. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to dreams. In + her conscious mind she dreamed of being the wife of the bachelor Hugh + McVey, but deep within her there was another dream, a dream having its + basis in the memory of her one physical contact with a man. When they were + engaged to be married George had often kissed her. On one evening in the + spring they had gone to sit together on the grassy bank beside the creek + in the shadow of the pickle factory, then deserted and silent, and had + come near to going beyond kissing. Why nothing else had happened Rose did + not exactly know. She had protested, but her protest had been feeble and + had not expressed what she felt. George Pike had desisted in his effort to + press love upon her because they were to be married, and he did not think + it right to do what he thought of as taking advantage of a girl. + </p> + <p> + At any rate he did desist and long afterward, as she lay in the farmhouse + consciously thinking of her mother's bachelor boarder, her thoughts became + less and less distinct and when she had slipped off into sleep, George + Pike came back to her. She stirred uneasily in bed and muttered words. + Rough but gentle hands touched her cheeks and played in her hair. As the + night wore on and the position of the moon shifted, the streak of + moonlight lighted her face. One of her hands reached up and seemed to be + caressing the moonbeams. The weariness had all gone out of her face. “Yes, + George, I love you, I belong to you,” she whispered. + </p> + <p> + Had Hugh been able to creep like the moonbeam into the presence of the + sleeping school teacher, he must inevitably have loved her. Also he would + perhaps have understood that it is best to approach human beings directly + and boldly as he had approached the mechanical problems by which his days + were filled. Instead he sat by his window in the presence of the moonlit + night and thought of women as beings utterly unlike himself. Words dropped + by Sarah Shepard to the awakening boy came creeping back to his mind. He + thought women were for other men but not for him, and told himself he did + not want a woman. + </p> + <p> + And then in Turner's Pike something happened. A farmer boy, who had been + to town and who had the daughter of a neighbor in his buggy, stopped in + front of the house. A long freight train, grinding its way slowly past the + station, barred the passage along the road. He held the reins in one hand + and put the other about the waist of his companion. The two heads sought + each other and lips met. They clung to each other. The same moon that shed + its light on Rose McCoy in the distant farmhouse lighted the open place + where the lovers sat in the buggy in the road. Hugh had to close his eyes + and fight to put down an almost overpowering physical hunger in himself. + His mind still protested that women were not for him. When his fancy made + for him a picture of the school teacher Rose McCoy sleeping in a bed, he + saw her only as a chaste white thing to be worshiped from afar and not to + be approached, at least not by himself. Again he opened his eyes and + looked at the lovers whose lips still clung together. His long slouching + body stiffened and he sat up very straight in his chair. Then he closed + his eyes again. A gruff voice broke the silence. “That's for Mike,” it + shouted and a great chunk of coal thrown from the train bounded across the + potato patch and struck against the back of the house. Downstairs he could + hear old Mrs. McCoy getting out of bed to secure the prize. The train + passed and the lovers in the buggy sank away from each other. In the + silent night Hugh could hear the regular beat of the hoofs of the farmer + boy's horse as it carried him and his woman away into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + The two people, living in the house with the old woman who had almost + finished her life, and themselves trying feebly to reach out to life, + never got to anything very definite in relation to each other. One + Saturday evening in the late fall the Governor of the State came to + Bidwell. There was a parade to be followed by a political meeting and the + Governor, who was a candidate for re-election, was to address the people + from the steps of the town hall. Prominent citizens were to stand on the + steps beside the Governor. Steve and Tom were to be there, and they had + asked Hugh to come, but he had refused. He asked Rose McCoy to go to the + meeting with him, and they set out from the house at eight o'clock and + walked to town. Then they stood at the edge of the crowd in the shadow of + a store building and listened to the speech. To Hugh's amazement his name + was mentioned. The Governor spoke of the prosperity of the town, + indirectly hinting that it was due to the political sagacity of the party + of which he was a representative, and then mentioned several individuals + also partly responsible. “The whole country is sweeping forward to new + triumphs under our banner,” he declared, “but not every community is so + fortunate as I find you here. Labor is employed at good wages. Life here + is fruitful and happy. You are fortunate here in having among you such + business men as Steven Hunter and Thomas Butterworth; and in the inventor + Hugh McVey you have one of the greatest intellects and the most useful men + that ever lived to help lift the burden off the shoulder of labor. What + his brain is doing for labor, our party is doing in another way. The + protective tariff is really the father of modern prosperity.” + </p> + <p> + The speaker paused and a cheer arose from the crowd. Hugh took hold of the + school teacher's arm and drew her away down a side street. They walked + home in silence, but when they got to the house and were about to go in, + the school teacher hesitated. She wanted to ask Hugh to walk about in the + darkness with her but did not have the courage of her desires. As they + stood at the gate and as the tall man with the long serious face looked + down at her, she remembered the speaker's words. “How could he care for + me? How could a man like him care anything for a homely little school + teacher like me?” she asked herself. Aloud she said something quite + different. As they had come along Turner's Pike she had made up her mind + she would boldly suggest a walk under the trees along Turner's Pike beyond + the bridge, and had told herself that she would later lead him to the + place beside the stream and in the shadow of the old pickle factory where + she and George Pike had come so near being lovers. Instead she hesitated + for a moment by the gate and then laughed awkwardly and passed in. “You + should be proud. I would be proud if I could be spoken of like that. I + don't see why you keep living here in a cheap little house like ours,” she + said. + </p> + <p> + On a warm spring Sunday night during the year in which Clara Butterworth + came back to Bidwell to live, Hugh made what was for him an almost + desperate effort to approach the school teacher. It had been a rainy + afternoon and Hugh had spent a part of it in the house. He came over from + his shop at noon and went to his room. When she was at home the school + teacher occupied a room next his own. The mother who seldom left the house + had on that day gone to the country to visit a brother. The daughter got + dinner for herself and Hugh and he tried to help her wash the dishes. A + plate fell out of his hands and its breaking seemed to break the silent, + embarrassed mood that had possession of them. For a few minutes they were + children and acted like children. Hugh picked up another plate and the + school teacher told him to put it down. He refused. “You're as awkward as + a puppy. How you ever manage to do anything over at that shop of yours is + more than I know.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh tried to keep hold of the plate which the school teacher tried to + snatch away and for a few minutes they struggled laughing. Her cheeks were + flushed and Hugh thought she looked bewitching. An impulse he had never + had before came to him. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, throw + the plate at the ceiling, sweep all of the dishes off the table and hear + them crash on the floor, play like some huge animal loose in a tiny world. + He looked at Rose and his hands trembled from the strength of the strange + impulse. As he stood staring she took the plate out of his hand and went + into the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do he put on his hat and went + for a walk. Later he went to the shop and tried to work, but his hand + trembled when he tried to hold a tool and the hay-loading apparatus on + which he was at work seemed suddenly a very trivial and unimportant thing. + </p> + <p> + At four o'clock Hugh got back to the house and found it apparently empty, + although the door leading to Turner's Pike was open. The rain had stopped + falling and the sun struggled to work its way through the clouds. He went + upstairs to his own room and sat on the edge of his bed. The conviction + that the daughter of the house was in her room next door came to him, and + although the thought violated all the beliefs he had ever held regarding + women in relation to himself, he decided that she had gone to her room to + be near him when he came in. For some reason he knew that if he went to + her door and knocked she would not be surprised and would not refuse him + admission. He took off his shoes and set them gently on the floor. Then he + went on tiptoes out into the little hallway. The ceiling was so low that + he had to stoop to avoid knocking his head against it. He raised his hand + intending to knock on the door, and then lost courage. Several times he + went into the hallway with the same intent, and each time returned + noiselessly to his own room. He sat in the chair by the window and waited. + An hour passed. He heard a noise that indicated that the school teacher + had been lying on her bed. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs, and + presently saw her go out of the house and go along Turner's Pike. She did + not go toward town but over the bridge past his shop and into the country. + Hugh drew himself back out of sight. He wondered where she could be going. + “The roads are muddy. Why does she go out? Is she afraid of me?” he asked + himself. When he saw her turn at the bridge and look back toward the + house, his hands trembled again. “She wants me to follow. She wants me to + go with her,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + Hugh did presently go out of the house and along the road but did not meet + the school teacher. She had in fact crossed the bridge and had gone along + the bank of the creek on the farther side. Then she crossed over again on + a fallen log and went to stand by the wall of the pickle factory. A lilac + bush grew beside the wall and she stood out of sight behind it. When she + saw Hugh in the road her heart beat so heavily that she had difficulty in + breathing. He went along the road and presently passed out of sight, and a + great weakness took possession of her. Although the grass was wet she sat + on the ground against the wall of the building and closed her eyes. Later + she put her face in her hands and wept. + </p> + <p> + The perplexed inventor did not get back to his boarding house until late + that night, and when he did he was unspeakably glad that he had not + knocked on the door of Rose McCoy's room. He had decided during the walk + that the whole notion that she had wanted him had been born in his own + brain. “She's a nice woman,” he had said to himself over and over during + the walk, and thought that in coming to that conclusion he had swept away + all possibilities of anything else in her. He was tired when he got home + and went at once to bed. The old woman came home from the country and her + brother sat in his buggy and shouted to the school teacher, who came out + of her room and ran down the stairs. He heard the two women carry + something heavy into the house and drop it on the floor. The farmer + brother had given Mrs. McCoy a bag of potatoes. Hugh thought of the mother + and daughter standing together downstairs and was unspeakably glad he had + not given way to his impulse toward boldness. “She would be telling her + now. She is a good woman and would be telling her now,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + At two o'clock that night Hugh got out of bed. In spite of the conviction + that women were not for him, he had found himself unable to sleep. + Something that shone in the eyes of the school teacher, when she struggled + with him for the possession of the plate, kept calling to him and he got + up and went to the window. The clouds had all gone out of the sky and the + night was clear. At the window next his own sat Rose McCoy. She was + dressed in a night gown and was looking away along Turner's Pike to the + place where George Pike the station master lived with his wife. Without + giving himself time to think, Hugh knelt on the floor and with his long + arm reached across the space between the two windows. His fingers had + almost touched the back of the woman's head and ached to play in the mass + of red hair that fell down over her shoulders, when again + self-consciousness overcame him. He drew his arm quickly back and stood + upright in the room. His head banged against the ceiling and he heard the + window of the room next door go softly down. With a conscious effort he + took himself in hand. “She's a good woman. Remember, she's a good woman,” + he whispered to himself, and when he got again into his bed he refused to + let his mind linger on the thoughts of the school teacher, but compelled + them to turn to the unsolved problems he still had to face before he could + complete his hay-loading apparatus. “You tend to your business and don't + be going off on that road any more,” he said, as though speaking to + another person. “Remember she's a good woman and you haven't the right. + That's all you have to do. Remember you haven't the right,” he added with + a ring of command in his voice. + </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 XIII + </h2> + <p> + Hugh first saw Clara Butterworth one day in July when she had been at home + for a month. She came to his shop late one afternoon with her father and a + man who had been employed to manage the new bicycle factory. The three got + out of Tom's buggy and came into the shop to see Hugh's new invention, the + hay-loading apparatus. Tom and the man named Alfred Buckley went to the + rear of the shop, and Hugh was left alone with the woman. She was dressed + in a light summer gown and her cheeks were flushed. Hugh stood by a bench + near an open window and listened while she talked of how much the town had + changed in the three years she had been away. “It is your doing, every one + says that,” she declared. + </p> + <p> + Clara had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Hugh. She began + asking questions regarding his work and what was to come of it. “When + everything is done by machines, what are people to do?” she asked. She + seemed to take it for granted that the inventor had thought deeply on the + subject of industrial development, a subject on which Kate Chanceller had + often talked during a whole evening. Having heard Hugh spoken of as one + who had a great brain, she wanted to see the brain at work. + </p> + <p> + Alfred Buckley came often to her father's house and wanted to marry Clara. + In the evening the two men sat on the front porch of the farmhouse and + talked of the town and the big things that were to be done there. They + spoke of Hugh, and Buckley, an energetic, talkative fellow with a long jaw + and restless gray eyes who had come from New York City, suggested schemes + for using him. Clara gathered that there was a plan on foot to get control + of Hugh's future inventions and thereby gain an advantage over Steve + Hunter. + </p> + <p> + The whole matter puzzled Clara. Alfred Buckley had asked her to marry him + and she had put the matter off. The proposal had been a formal thing, not + at all what she had expected from a man she was to take as a partner for + life, but Clara was at the moment very seriously determined upon marriage. + The New York man was at her father's house several evenings every week. + She had never walked about with him nor had they in any way come close to + each other. He seemed too much occupied with work to be personal and had + proposed marriage by writing her a letter. Clara got the letter from the + post-office and it upset her so that she felt she could not for a time go + into the presence of any one she knew. “I am unworthy of you, but I want + you to be my wife. I will work for you. I am new here and you do not know + me very well. All I ask is the privilege of proving my merit. I want you + to be my wife, but before I dare come and ask you to do me so great an + honor I feel I must prove myself worthy,” the letter said. + </p> + <p> + Clara had driven into town alone on the day when she received it and later + got into her buggy and drove south past the Butterworth farm into the + hills. She forgot to go home to lunch or to the evening meal. The horse + jogged slowly along, protesting and trying to turn back at every cross + road, but she kept on and did not get home until midnight. When she + reached the farmhouse her father was waiting. He went with her into the + barnyard and helped unhitch the horse. Nothing was said, and after a + moment's conversation having nothing to do with the subject that occupied + both their minds, she went upstairs and tried to think the matter out. She + became convinced that her father had something to do with the proposal of + marriage that he knew about it and had waited for her to come home in + order to see how it had affected her. + </p> + <p> + Clara wrote a reply that was as non-committal as the proposal itself. “I + do not know whether I want to marry you or not. I will have to become + acquainted with you. I however thank you for the offer of marriage and + when you feel that the right time has come, we will talk about it,” she + wrote. + </p> + <p> + After the exchange of letters, Alfred Buckley came to her father's house + more often than before, but he and Clara did not become better acquainted. + He did not talk to her, but to her father. Although she did not know it, + the rumor that she was to marry the New York man had already run about + town. She did not know whether her father or Buckley had told the tale. + </p> + <p> + On the front porch of the farmhouse through the summer evenings the two + men talked of the progress, of the town and the part they were taking and + hoped to take in its future growth. The New York man had proposed a scheme + to Tom. He was to go to Hugh and propose a contract giving the two men an + option on all his future inventions. As the inventions were completed they + were to be financed in New York City, and the two men would give up + manufacture and make money much more rapidly as promoters. They hesitated + because they were afraid of Steve Hunter, and because Tom was afraid Hugh + would not fall in with their plan. “It wouldn't surprise me if Steve + already had such a contract with him. He's a fool if he hasn't,” the older + man said. + </p> + <p> + Evening after evening the two men talked and Clara sat in the deep shadows + at the back of the porch and listened. The enmity that had existed between + herself and her father seemed to be forgotten. The man who had asked her + to marry him did not look at her, but her father did. Buckley did most of + the talking and spoke of New York City business men, already famous + throughout the Middle West as giants of finance, as though they were his + life-long friends. “They'll put over anything I ask them to,” he declared. + </p> + <p> + Clara tried to think of Alfred Buckley as a husband. Like Hugh McVey he + was tall and gaunt but unlike the inventor, whom she had seen two or three + times on the street, he was not carelessly dressed. There was something + sleek about him, something that suggested a well-bred dog, a hound + perhaps. As he talked he leaned forward like a greyhound in pursuit of a + rabbit. His hair was carefully parted and his clothes fitted him like the + skin of an animal. He wore a diamond scarf pin. His long jaw, it seemed to + her, was always wagging. Within a few days after the receipt of his letter + she had made up her mind that she did not want him as a husband, and she + was convinced he did not want her. The whole matter of marriage had, she + was sure, been in some way suggested by her father. When she came to that + conclusion she was both angry and in an odd way touched. She did not + interpret it as fear of some sort of indiscretion on her part, but thought + that her father wanted her to marry because he wanted her to be happy. As + she sat in the darkness on the front porch of the farmhouse the voices of + the two men became indistinct. It was as though her mind went out of her + body and like a living thing journeyed over the world. Dozens of men she + had seen and had casually addressed, young fellows attending school at + Columbus and boys of the town with whom she had gone to parties and dances + when she was a young girl, came to stand before her. She saw their figures + distinctly, but remembered them at some advantageous moment of her contact + with them. At Columbus there was a young man from a town in the southern + end of the State, one of the sort that is always in love with a woman. + During her first year in school he had noticed Clara, had been undecided + as to whether he had better pay attention to her or to a little black-eyed + town girl who was in their classes. Several times he walked down the + college hill and along the street with Clara. The two stood at a street + crossing where she was in the habit of taking a car. Several cars went by + as they stood together by a bush that grew by a high stone wall. They + talked of trivial matters, a comedy club that had been organized in the + school, the chances of victory for the football team. The young man was + one of the actors in a play to be given by the comedy club and told Clara + of his experiences at rehearsals. As he talked his eyes began to shine and + he seemed to be looking, not at her face or body, but at something within + her. For a time, perhaps for fifteen minutes, there was a possibility that + the two people would love each other. Then the young man went away and + later she saw him walking under the trees on the college campus with the + little black-eyed town girl. + </p> + <p> + As she sat on the porch in the darkness in the summer evenings, Clara + thought of the incident and of dozens of other swift-passing contacts she + had made with men. The voices of the two men talking of money-making went + on and on. Whenever she came back out of her introspective world of + thought, Alfred Buckley's long jaw was wagging. He was always at work, + steadily, persistently urging something on her father. It was difficult + for Clara to think of her father as a rabbit, but the notion that Alfred + Buckley was like a hound stayed with her. “The wolf and the wolfhound,” + she thought absent-mindedly. + </p> + <p> + Clara was twenty-three and seemed to herself mature. She did not intend + wasting any more time going to school and did not want to be a + professional woman, like Kate Chanceller. There was something she did want + and in a way some man, she did not know what man it would be, was + concerned in the matter. She was very hungry for love, but might have got + that from another woman. Kate Chanceller would have loved her. She was not + unconscious of the fact that their friendship had been something more than + friendship. Kate loved to hold Clara's hand and wanted to kiss and caress + her. The inclination had been put down by Kate herself, a struggle had + gone on in her, and Clara had been dimly conscious of it and had respected + Kate for making it. + </p> + <p> + Why? Clara asked herself that question a dozen times during the early + weeks of that summer. Kate Chanceller had taught her to think. When they + were together Kate did both the thinking and the talking, but now Clara's + mind had a chance. There was something back of her desire for a man. She + wanted something more than caresses. There was a creative impulse in her + that could not function until she had been made love to by a man. The man + she wanted was but an instrument she sought in order that she might + fulfill herself. Several times during those evenings in the presence of + the two men, who talked only of making money out of the products of + another man's mind, she almost forced her mind out into a concrete thought + concerning women, and then it became again befogged. + </p> + <p> + Clara grew tired of thinking, and listened to the talk. The name of Hugh + McVey played through the persistent conversation like a refrain. It became + fixed in her mind. The inventor was not married. By the social system + under which she lived that and that only made him a possibility for her + purposes. She began to think of the inventor, and her mind, weary of + playing about her own figure, played about the figure of the tall, + serious-looking man she had seen on Main Street. When Alfred Buckley had + driven away to town for the night, she went upstairs to her own room but + did not get into bed. Instead, she put out her light and sat by an open + window that looked out upon the orchard and from which she could see a + little stretch of the road that ran past the farm house toward town. Every + evening before Alfred Buckley went away, there was a little scene on the + front porch. When the visitor got up to go, her father made some excuse + for going indoors or around the corner of the house into the barnyard. “I + will have Jim Priest hitch up your horse,” he said and hurried away. Clara + was left in the company of the man who had pretended he wanted to marry + her, and who, she was convinced, wanted nothing of the kind. She was not + embarrassed, but could feel his embarrassment and enjoyed it. He made + formal speeches. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the night is fine,” he said. Clara hugged the thought that he was + uncomfortable. “He has taken me for a green country girl, impressed with + him because he is from the city and dressed in fine clothes,” she thought. + Sometimes her father stayed away five or ten minutes and she did not say a + word. When her father returned Alfred Buckley shook hands with him and + then turned to Clara, apparently now quite at his ease. “We have bored + you, I'm afraid,” he said. He took her hand and leaning over, kissed the + back of it ceremoniously. Her father looked away. Clara went upstairs and + sat by the window. She could hear the two men continuing their talk in the + road before the house. After a time the front door banged, her father came + into the house and the visitor drove away. Everything became quiet and for + a long time she could hear the hoofs of Alfred Buckley's horse beating a + rapid tattoo on the road that led down into town. + </p> + <p> + Clara thought of Hugh McVey. Alfred Buckley had spoken of him as a + backwoodsman with a streak of genius. He constantly harped on the notion + that he and Tom could use the man for their own ends, and she wondered if + both of the men were making as great a mistake about the inventor as they + were about her. In the silent summer night, when the sound of the horse's + hoofs had died away and when her father had quit stirring about the house, + she heard another sound. The corn-cutting machine factory was very busy + and had put on a night shift. When the night was still, or when there was + a slight breeze blowing up the hill from town, there was a low rumbling + sound coming from many machines working in wood and steel, followed at + regular intervals by the steady breathing of a steam engine. + </p> + <p> + The woman at the window, like every one else in her town and in all the + towns of the mid-western country, became touched with the idea of the + romance of industry. The dreams of the Missouri boy that he had fought, + had by the strength of his persistency twisted into new channels so that + they had expressed themselves in definite things, in corn-cutting machines + and in machines for unloading coal cars and for gathering hay out of a + field and loading it on wagons without aid of human hands, were still + dreams and capable of arousing dreams in others. They awoke dreams in the + mind of the woman. The figures of other men that had been playing through + her mind slipped away and but the one figure remained. Her mind made up + stories concerning Hugh. She had read the absurd tale that had been + printed in the Cleveland paper and her fancy took hold of it. Like every + other citizen of America she believed in heroes. In books and magazines + she had read of heroic men who had come up out of poverty by some strange + alchemy to combine in their stout persons all of the virtues. The broad, + rich land demanded gigantic figures, and the minds of men had created the + figures. Lincoln, Grant, Garfield, Sherman, and a half dozen other men + were something more than human in the minds of the generation that came + immediately after the days of their stirring performance. Already industry + was creating a new set of semi-mythical figures. The factory at work in + the night-time in the town of Bidwell became, to the mind of the woman + sitting by the window in the farm house, not a factory but a powerful + animal, a powerful beast-like thing that Hugh had tamed and made useful to + his fellows. Her mind ran forward and took the taming of the beast for + granted. The hunger of her generation found a voice in her. Like every one + else she wanted heroes, and Hugh, to whom she had never talked and about + whom she knew nothing, became a hero. Her father, Alfred Buckley, Steve + Hunter and the rest were after all pigmies. Her father was a schemer; he + had even schemed to get her married, perhaps to further his own plans. In + reality his schemes were so ineffective that she did not need to be angry + with him. There was but one man of them all who was not a schemer. Hugh + was what she wanted to be. He was a creative force. In his hands dead + inanimate things became creative forces. He was what she wanted not + herself but perhaps a son, to be. The thought, at last definitely + expressed, startled Clara, and she arose from the chair by the window and + prepared to go to bed. Something within her body ached, but she did not + allow herself to pursue further the thoughts she had been having. + </p> + <p> + On the day when she went with her father and Alfred Buckley to visit + Hugh's shop, Clara knew that she wanted to marry the man she would see + there. The thought was not expressed in her but slept like a seed newly + planted in fertile soil. She had herself managed that she be taken to the + factory and had also managed that she be left with Hugh while the two men + went to look at the half-completed hay-loader at the back of the shop. + </p> + <p> + She had begun talking to Hugh while the four people stood on the little + grass plot before the shop. They went inside and her father and Buckley + went through a door toward the rear. She stopped by a bench and as she + continued talking Hugh was compelled to stop and stand beside her. She + asked questions, paid him vague compliments, and as he struggled, trying + to make conversation, she studied him. To cover his confusion he half + turned away and looked out through a window into Turner's Pike. His eyes, + she decided, were nice. They were somewhat small, but there was something + gray and cloudy in them, and the gray cloudiness gave her confidence in + the person behind the eyes. She could, she felt, trust him. There was + something in his eyes that was like the things most grateful to her own + nature, the sky seen across an open stretch of country or over a river + that ran straight away into the distance. Hugh's hair was coarse like the + mane of a horse, and his nose was like the nose of a horse. He was, she + decided, very like a horse; an honest, powerful horse, a horse that was + humanized by the mysterious, hungering thing that expressed itself through + his eyes. “If I have to live with an animal; if, as Kate Chanceller once + said, we women have to decide what other animal we are to live with before + we can begin being humans, I would rather live with a strong, kindly horse + than a wolf or a wolfhound,” she found herself thinking. + </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 XIV + </h2> + <p> + Hugh had no suspicion that Clara had him under consideration as a possible + husband. He knew nothing about her, but after she went away he began to + think. She was a woman and good to look upon and at once took Rose McCoy's + place in his mind. All unloved men and many who are loved play in a half + subconscious way with the figures of many women as women's minds play with + the figures of men, seeing them in many situations, vaguely caressing + them, dreaming of closer contacts. With Hugh the impulse toward women had + started late, but it was becoming every day more active. When he talked to + Clara and while she stayed in his presence, he was more embarrassed than + he had ever been before, because he was more conscious of her than he had + ever been of any other woman. In secret he was not the modest man he + thought himself. The success of his corn-cutting machine and his + car-dumping apparatus and the respect, amounting almost to worship, he + sometimes saw in the eyes of the people of the Ohio town had fed his + vanity. It was a time when all America was obsessed with one idea, and to + the people of Bidwell nothing could be more important, necessary and vital + to progress than the things Hugh had done. He did not walk and talk like + the other people of the town, and his body was over-large and loosely put + together, but in secret he did not want to be different even in a physical + way. Now and then there came an opportunity for a test of physical + strength: an iron bar was to be lifted or a part of some heavy machine + swung into place in the shop. In such a test he had found he could lift + almost twice the load another could handle. Two men grunted and strained, + trying to lift a heavy bar off the floor and put it on a bench. He came + along and did the job alone and without apparent effort. + </p> + <p> + In his room at night or in the late afternoon or evening in the summer + when he walked on country roads, he sometimes felt keen hunger for + recognition of his merits from his fellows, and having no one to praise + him, he praised himself. When the Governor of the State spoke in praise of + him before a crowd and when he made Rose McCoy come away because it seemed + immodest for him to stay and hear such words, he found himself unable to + sleep. After tossing in his bed for two or three hours he got up and crept + quietly out of the house. He was like a man who, having an unmusical + voice, sings to himself in a bath-room while the water is making a loud, + splashing noise. On that night Hugh wanted to be an orator. As he stumbled + in the darkness along Turner's Pike he imagined himself Governor of a + State addressing a multitude of people. A mile north of Pickleville a + dense thicket grew beside the road, and Hugh stopped and addressed the + young trees and bushes. In the darkness the mass of bushes looked not + unlike a crowd standing at attention, listening. The wind blew and played + in the thick, dry growth and there was a sound as of many voices + whispering words of encouragement. Hugh said many foolish things. + Expressions he had heard from the lips of Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth + came into his mind and were repeated by his lips. He spoke of the swift + growth that had come to the town of Bidwell as though it were an unmixed + blessing, the factories, the homes of happy, contented people, the coming + of industrial development as something akin to a visit of the gods. Rising + to the height of egotism he shouted, “I have done it. I have done it.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh heard a buggy coming along the road and fled into the thicket. A + farmer, who had gone to town for the evening and who had stayed after the + political meeting to talk with other farmers in Ben Head's saloon, went + homeward, asleep in his buggy. His head nodded up and down, heavy with the + vapors rising from many glasses of beer. Hugh came out of the thicket + feeling somewhat ashamed. The next day he wrote a letter to Sarah Shepherd + and told her of his progress. “If you or Henry want any money, I can let + you have all you want,” he wrote, and did not resist the temptation to + tell her something of what the Governor had said of his work and his mind. + “Anyway they must think I amount to something whether I do or not,” he + said wistfully. + </p> + <p> + Having awakened to his own importance in the life about him, Hugh wanted + direct, human appreciation. After the failure of the effort both he and + Rose had made to break through the wall of embarrassment and reserve that + kept them apart, he knew pretty definitely that he wanted a woman, and the + idea, once fixed in his mind, grew to gigantic proportions. All women + became interesting, and he looked with hungry eyes at the wives of the + workmen who sometimes came to the shop door to pass a word with their + husbands, at young farm girls who drove along Turner's Pike on summer + afternoons, town girls who walked in the Bidwell Main Street in the + evening, at fair women and dark women. As he wanted a woman more + consciously and determinedly he became more afraid of individual women. + His success and his association with the workmen in his shop had made him + less self-conscious in the presence of men, but the women were different. + In their presence he was ashamed of his secret thoughts of them. + </p> + <p> + On the day when he was left alone with Clara, Tom Butterworth and Alfred + Buckley stayed at the back of the shop for nearly twenty minutes. It was a + hot day and beads of sweat stood on Hugh's face. His sleeves were rolled + to his elbows and his hands and hairy arms were covered with shop grime. + He put up his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, leaving a long, + black mark. Then he became aware of the fact that as she talked the woman + looked at him in an absorbed, almost calculating way. It was as though he + were a horse and she were a buyer examining him to be sure he was sound + and of a kindly disposition. While she stood beside him her eyes were + shining and her cheeks were flushed. The awakening, assertive male thing + in him whispered that the flush on her cheeks and the shining eyes were + indicative of something. His mind had been taught that lesson by the + slight and wholly unsatisfactory experience with the school teacher at his + boarding-house. + </p> + <p> + Clara drove away from the shop with her father and Alfred Buckley. Tom + drove and Alfred Buckley leaned forward and talked. “You must find out + whether or not Steve has an option on the new tool. It would be foolish to + ask outright and give ourselves away. That inventor is stupid and vain. + Those fellows always are. They appear to be quiet and shrewd, but they + always let the cat out of the bag. The thing to do is to flatter him in + some way. A woman could find out all he knows in ten minutes.” He turned + to Clara and smiled. There was something infinitely impertinent in the + fixed, animal-like stare of his eyes. “We do take you into our plans, your + father and me, eh?” he said. “You must be careful not to give us away when + you talk to that inventor.” + </p> + <p> + From his shop window Hugh stared at the backs of the heads of the three + people. The top of Tom Butterworth's buggy had been let down, and when he + talked Alfred Buckley leaned forward and his head disappeared. Hugh + thought Clara must look like the kind of woman men meant when they spoke + of a lady. The farmer's daughter had an instinct for clothes, and Hugh's + mind got the idea of gentility by way of the medium of clothes. He thought + the dress she had worn the most stylish thing he had ever seen. Clara's + friend Kate Chanceller, while mannish in her dress, had an instinct for + style and had taught Clara some valuable lessons. “Any woman can dress + well if she knows how,” Kate had declared. She had taught Clara how to + study and emphasize by dress the good points of her body. Beside Clara, + Rose McCoy looked dowdy and commonplace. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went to the rear of his shop to where there was a water-tap and + washed his hands. Then he went to a bench and tried to take up the work he + had been doing. Within five minutes he went to wash his hands again. He + went out of the shop and stood beside the small stream that rippled along + beneath willow bushes and disappeared under the bridge beneath Turner's + Pike, and then went back for his coat and quit work for the day. An + instinct led him to go past the creek again and he knelt on the grass at + the edge and again washed his hands. + </p> + <p> + Hugh's growing vanity was fed by the thought that Clara was interested in + him, but it was not yet strong enough to sustain the thought. He took a + long walk, going north from the shop along Turner's Pike for two or three + miles and then by a cross road between corn and cabbage fields to where he + could, by crossing a meadow, get into a wood. For an hour he sat on a log + at the wood's edge and looked south. Away in the distance, over the roofs + of the houses of the town, he could see a white speck against a background + of green—the Butterworth farm house. Almost at once he decided that + the thing he had seen in Clara's eyes and that was sister to something he + had seen in Rose McCoy's eyes had nothing to do with him. The mantle of + vanity he had been wearing dropped off and left him naked and sad. “What + would she be wanting of me?” he asked himself, and got up from the log to + look with critical eyes at his long, bony body. For the first time in two + or three years he thought of the words so often repeated in his presence + by Sarah Shepard in the first few months after he left his father's shack + by the shore of the Mississippi River and came to work at the railroad + station. She had called his people lazy louts and poor white trash and had + railed against his inclination to dreams. By struggle and work he had + conquered the dreams but could not conquer his ancestry, nor change the + fact that he was at bottom poor white trash. With a shudder of disgust he + saw himself again a boy in ragged clothes that smelled of fish, lying + stupid and half asleep in the grass beside the Mississippi River. He + forgot the majesty of the dreams that sometimes came to him, and only + remembered the swarms of flies that, attracted by the filth of their + clothes, hovered over him and over the drunken father who lay sleeping + beside him. + </p> + <p> + A lump arose in his throat and for a moment he was consumed with + self-pity. Then he went out of the wood, crossed the field, and with his + peculiar, long, shambling gait that got him over the ground with + surprising rapidity, went again along the road. Had there been a stream + nearby he would have been tempted to tear off his clothes and plunge in. + The notion that he could ever become a man who would in any way be + attractive to a woman like Clara Butterworth seemed the greatest folly in + the world. “She's a lady. What would she be wanting of me? I ain't fitten + for her. I ain't fitten for her,” he said aloud, unconsciously falling + into the dialect of his father. + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked the entire afternoon away and in the evening went back to his + shop and worked until midnight. So energetically did he work that several + knotty problems in the construction of the hay-loading apparatus were + cleared away. + </p> + <p> + On the second evening after the encounter with Clara, Hugh went for a walk + in the streets of Bidwell. He thought of the work on which he had been + engaged all day and then of the woman he had made up his mind he could + under no circumstances win. As darkness came on he went into the country, + and at nine returned along the railroad tracks past the corn-cutter + factory. The factory was working day and night, and the new plant, also + beside the tracks and but a short distance away, was almost completed. + Behind the new plant was a field Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter had + bought and laid out in streets of workingmen's houses. The houses were + cheaply constructed and ugly, and in all directions there was a vast + disorder; but Hugh did not see the disorder or the ugliness of the + buildings. The sight that lay before him strengthened his waning vanity. + Something of the loose shuffle went out of his stride and he threw back + his shoulders. “What I have done here amounts to something. I'm all + right,” he thought, and had almost reached the old corn-cutter plant when + several men came out of a side door and getting upon the tracks, walked + before him. + </p> + <p> + In the corn-cutter plant something had happened that excited the men. Ed + Hall the superintendent had played a trick on his fellow townsmen. He had + put on overalls and gone to work at a bench in a long room with some fifty + other men. “I'm going to show you up,” he said, laughing. “You watch me. + We're behind on the work and I'm going to show you up.” + </p> + <p> + The pride of the workmen had been touched, and for two weeks they had + worked like demons to outdo the boss. At night when the amount of work + done was calculated, they laughed at Ed. Then they heard that the + piece-work plan was to be installed in the factory, and were afraid they + would be paid by a scale calculated on the amount of work done during the + two weeks of furious effort. + </p> + <p> + The workman who stumbled along the tracks cursed Ed Hall and the men for + whom he worked. “I lost six hundred dollars in the plant-setting machine + failure and this is all I get, to be played a trick on by a young suck + like Ed Hall,” a voice grumbled. Another voice took up the refrain. In the + dim light Hugh could see the speaker, a man with a bent back, a product of + the cabbage fields, who had come to town to find employment. Although he + did not recognize it, he had heard the voice before. It came from a son of + the cabbage farmer, Ezra French and was the same voice he had once heard + complaining at night as the French boys crawled across a cabbage field in + the moonlight. The man now said something that startled Hugh. “Well,” he + declared, “it's a joke on me. I quit Dad and made him sore; now he won't + take me back again. He says I'm a quitter and no good. I thought I'd come + to town to a factory and find it easier here. Now I've got married and + have to stick to my job no matter what they do. In the country I worked + like a dog a few weeks a year, but here I'll probably have to work like + that all the time. It's the way things go. I thought it was mighty funny, + all this talk about the factory work being so easy. I wish the old days + were back. I don't see how that inventor or his inventions ever helped us + workers. Dad was right about him. He said an inventor wouldn't do nothing + for workers. He said it would be better to tar and feather that telegraph + operator. I guess Dad was right.” + </p> + <p> + The swagger went out of Hugh's walk and he stopped to let the men pass out + of sight and hearing along the track. When they had gone a little away a + quarrel broke out. Each man felt the others must be in some way + responsible for his betrayal in the matter of the contest with Ed Hall and + accusations flew back and forth. One of the men threw a heavy stone that + ran down along the tracks and jumped into a ditch filled with dry weeds. + It made a heavy crashing sound. Hugh heard heavy footsteps running. He was + afraid the men were going to attack him, and climbed over a fence, crossed + a barnyard, and got into an empty street. As he went along trying to + understand what had happened and why the men were angry, he met Clara + Butterworth, standing and apparently waiting for him under a street lamp. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked beside Clara, too perplexed to attempt to understand the new + impulses crowding in upon his mind. She explained her presence in the + street by saying she had been to town to mail a letter and intended + walking home by a side road. “You may come with me if you're just out for + a walk,” she said. The two walked in silence. Hugh's mind, unaccustomed to + traveling in wide circles, centered on his companion. Life seemed suddenly + to be crowding him along strange roads. In two days he had felt more new + emotions and had felt them more deeply than he would have thought possible + to a human being. The hour through which he had just passed had been + extraordinary. He had started out from his boarding-house sad and + depressed. Then he had come by the factories and pride in what he thought + he had accomplished swept in on him. Now it was apparent the workers in + the factories were not happy, that there was something the matter. He + wondered if Clara would know what was wrong and would tell him if he + asked. He wanted to ask many questions. “That's what I want a woman for. I + want some one close to me who understands things and will tell me about + them,” he thought. Clara remained silent and Hugh decided that she, like + the complaining workman stumbling along the tracks, did not like him. The + man had said he wished Hugh had never come to town. Perhaps every one in + Bidwell secretly felt that way. + </p> + <p> + Hugh was no longer proud of himself and his achievements. Perplexity had + captured him. When he and Clara got out of town into a country road, he + began thinking of Sarah Shepard, who had been friendly and kind to him + when he was a lad, and wished she were with him, or better yet that Clara + would take the attitude toward him she had taken. Had Clara taken it into + her head to scold as Sarah Shepard had done he would have been relieved. + </p> + <p> + Instead Clara walked in silence, thinking of her own affairs and planning + to use Hugh for her own ends. It had been a perplexing day for her. Late + that afternoon there had been a scene between her and her father and she + had left home and come to town because she could no longer bear being in + his presence. When she had seen Hugh coming toward her she had stopped + under a street lamp to wait for him. “I could set everything straight by + getting him to ask me to marry him,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + The new difficulty that had arisen between Clara and her father was + something with which she had nothing to do. Tom, who thought himself so + shrewd and crafty, had been taken in by the city man, Alfred Buckley. A + federal officer had come to town during the afternoon to arrest Buckley. + The man had turned out to be a notorious swindler wanted in several + cities. In New York he had been one of a gang who distributed counterfeit + money, and in other states he was wanted for swindling women, two of whom + he married unlawfully. + </p> + <p> + The arrest had been like a shot fired at Tom by a member of his own + household. He had almost come to think of Alfred Buckley as one of his + family, and as he drove rapidly along the road toward home, he had been + profoundly sorry for his daughter and had intended to ask her to forgive + him for his part in betraying her into a false position. That he had not + openly committed himself to any of Buckley's schemes, had signed no papers + and written no letters that would betray the conspiracy he had entered + into against Steve, filled him with joy. He had intended to be generous, + and even, if necessary, confess to Clara his indiscretion in talking of a + possible marriage, but when he got to the farm house and had taken Clara + into the parlor and had closed the door, he changed his mind. He told her + of Buckley's arrest, and then started tramping excitedly up and down in + the room. Her coolness infuriated him. “Don't set there like a clam!” he + shouted. “Don't you know what's happened? Don't you know you're disgraced, + have brought disgrace on my name?” + </p> + <p> + The angry father explained that half the town knew of her engagement to + marry Alfred Buckley, and when Clara declared they were not engaged and + that she had never intended marrying the man, his anger did not abate. He + had himself whispered the suggestion about town, had told Steve Hunter, + Gordon Hart, and two or three others, that Alfred Buckley and his daughter + would no doubt do what he spoke of as “hitting it off,” and they had of + course told their wives. The fact that he had betrayed his daughter into + an ugly position gnawed at his consciousness. “I suppose the rascal told + it himself,” he said, in reply to her statement, and again gave way to + anger. He glared at his daughter and wished she were a son so he could + strike with his fists. His voice arose to a shout and could be heard in + the barnyard where Jim Priest and a young farm hand were at work. They + stopped work and listened. “She's been up to something. Do you suppose + some man has got her in trouble?” the young farm hand asked. + </p> + <p> + In the house Tom expressed his old dissatisfaction with his daughter. “Why + haven't you married and settled down like a decent woman?” he shouted. + “Tell me that. Why haven't you married and settled down? Why are you + always getting in trouble? Why haven't you married and settled down?” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Clara walked in the road beside Hugh and thought that all her troubles + would come to an end if he would ask her to be his wife. Then she became + ashamed of her thoughts. As they passed the last street lamp and prepared + to set out by a roundabout way along a dark road, she turned to look at + Hugh's long, serious face. The tradition that had made him appear + different from other men in the eyes of the people of Bidwell began to + affect her. Ever since she had come home she had been hearing people speak + of him with something like awe in their voices. For her to marry the + town's hero would, she knew, set her on a high place in the eyes of her + people. It would be a triumph for her and would re-establish her, not only + in her father's eyes but in the eyes of every one. Every one seemed to + think she should marry; even Jim Priest had said so. He had said she was + the marrying kind. Here was her chance. She wondered why she did not want + to take it. + </p> + <p> + Clara had written her friend Kate Chanceller a letter in which she had + declared her intention of leaving home and going to work, and had come to + town afoot to mail it. On Main Street as she went through the crowds of + men who had come to loaf the evening away before the stores, the force of + what her father had said concerning the connection of her name with that + of Buckley the swindler had struck her for the first time. The men were + gathered together in groups, talking excitedly. No doubt they were + discussing Buckley's arrest. Her own name was, no doubt, being bandied + about. Her cheeks burned and a keen hatred of mankind had possession of + her. Now her hatred of others awoke in her an almost worshipful attitude + toward Hugh. By the time they had walked together for five minutes all + thought of using him to her own ends had gone. “He's not like Father or + Henderson Woodburn or Alfred Buckley,” she told herself. “He doesn't + scheme and twist things about trying to get the best of some one else. He + works, and because of his efforts things are accomplished.” The figure of + the farm hand Jim Priest working in a field of corn came to her mind. “The + farm hand works,” she thought, “and the corn grows. This man sticks to his + task in his shop and makes a town grow.” + </p> + <p> + In her father's presence during the afternoon Clara had remained calm and + apparently indifferent to his tirade. In town in the presence of the men + she was sure were attacking her character, she had been angry, ready to + fight. Now she wanted to put her head on Hugh's shoulder and cry. + </p> + <p> + They came to the bridge near where the road turned and led to her father's + house. It was the same bridge to which she had come with the school + teacher and to which John May had followed, looking for a fight. Clara + stopped. She did not want any one at the house to know that Hugh had + walked home with her. “Father is so set on my getting married, he would go + to see him to-morrow,” she thought. She put her arms upon the rail of the + bridge and bending over buried her face between them. Hugh stood behind + her, turning his head from side to side and rubbing his hands on his + trouser legs, beside himself with embarrassment. There was a flat, swampy + field beside the road and not far from the bridge, and after a moment of + silence the voices of a multitude of frogs broke the stillness. Hugh + became overwhelmingly sad. The notion that he was a big man and deserved + to have a woman to live with and understand him went entirely away. For + the moment he wanted to be a boy and put his head on the shoulder of the + woman. He did not look at Clara but at himself. In the dim light his + hands, nervously fumbling about, his long, loosely-put-together body, + everything connected with his person, seemed ugly and altogether + unattractive. He could see the woman's small firm hands that lay on the + railing of the bridge. They were, he thought, like everything connected + with her person, shapely and beautiful, just as everything connected with + his own person was unshapely and ugly. + </p> + <p> + Clara aroused herself from the meditative mood that had taken possession + of her, and after shaking Hugh's hand and explaining that she did not want + him to go further went away. When he thought she had quite gone she came + back. “You'll hear I was engaged to that Alfred Buckley who has got into + trouble and has been arrested,” she said. Hugh did not reply and her voice + became sharp and a little challenging. “You'll hear we were going to be + married. I don't know what you'll hear. It's a lie,” she said and turning, + hurried away. + </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 XV + </h2> + <p> + Hugh and Clara were married in less than a week after their first walk + together. A chain of circumstances touching their two lives hurled them + into marriage, and the opportunity for the intimacy with a woman for which + Hugh so longed came to him with a swiftness that made him fairly dizzy. + </p> + <p> + It was a Wednesday evening and cloudy. After dining in silence with his + landlady, Hugh started along Turner's Pike toward Bidwell, but when he had + got almost into town, turned back. He had left the house intending to go + through town to the Medina Road and to the woman who now occupied so large + a place in his thoughts, but hadn't the courage. Every evening for almost + a week he had taken the walk, and every evening and at almost the same + spot he turned back. He was disgusted and angry with himself and went to + his shop, walking in the middle of the road and kicking up clouds of dust. + People passed along the path under the trees at the side of the road and + turned to stare at him. A workingman with a fat wife, who puffed as she + walked at his side, turned to look and then began to scold. “I tell you + what, old woman, I shouldn't have married and had kids,” he grumbled. + “Look at me, then look at that fellow. He goes along there thinking big + thoughts that will make him richer and richer. I have to work for two + dollars a day, and pretty soon I'll be old and thrown on the scrap-heap. I + might have been a rich inventor like him had I given myself a chance.” + </p> + <p> + The workman went on his way, grumbling at his wife who paid no attention + to his words. Her breath was needed for the labor of walking, and as for + the matter of marriage, that had been attended to. She saw no reason for + wasting words over the matter. Hugh went to the shop and stood leaning + against the door frame. Two or three workmen were busy near the back door + and had lighted gas lamps that hung over the work benches. They did not + see Hugh, and their voices ran through the empty building. One of them, an + old man with a bald head, entertained his fellows by giving an imitation + of Steve Hunter. He lighted a cigar and putting on his hat tipped it a + little to one side. Puffing out his chest he marched up and down talking + of money. “Here's a ten-dollar cigar,” he said, handing a long stogie to + one of the other workmen. “I buy them by the thousands to give away. I'm + interested in uplifting the lives of workmen in my home town. That's what + takes all my attention.” + </p> + <p> + The other workmen laughed and the little man continued to prance up and + down and talk, but Hugh did not hear him. He stared moodily at the people + going along the road toward town. Darkness was coming but he could still + see dim figures striding along. Over at the foundry back of the + corn-cutting machine plant the night shift was pouring off, and a sudden + glare of light played across the heavy smoke cloud that lay over the town. + The bells of the churches began to call people to the Wednesday evening + prayer-meetings. Some enterprising citizen had begun to build workmen's + houses in a field beyond Hugh's shop and these were occupied by Italian + laborers. A crowd of them came past. What would some day be a tenement + district was growing in a field beside a cabbage patch belonging to Ezra + French who had said God would not permit men to change the field of their + labors. + </p> + <p> + An Italian passed under a lamp near the Wheeling station. He wore a bright + red handkerchief about his neck and was clad in a brightly colored shirt. + Like the other people of Bidwell, Hugh did not like to see foreigners + about. He did not understand them and when he saw them going about the + streets in groups, was a little afraid. It was a man's duty, he thought, + to look as much as possible like all his fellow men, to lose himself in + the crowds, and these fellows did not look like other men. They loved + color, and as they talked they made rapid gestures with their hands. The + Italian in the road was with a woman of his own race, and in the growing + darkness put his arm about her shoulder. Hugh's heart began to beat + rapidly and he forgot his American prejudices. He wished he were a workman + and that Clara were a workman's daughter. Then, he thought, he might find + courage to go to her. His imagination, quickened by the flame of desire + and running in new channels, made it possible for him, at the moment to + see himself in the young Italian's place, walking in the road with Clara. + She was clad in a calico dress and her soft brown eyes looked at him full + of love and understanding. + </p> + <p> + The three workingmen had completed the job for which they had come back to + work after the evening meal, and now turned out the lights and came toward + the front of the shop. Hugh drew back from the door and concealed himself + by standing in the heavy shadows by the wall. So realistic were his + thoughts of Clara that he did not want them intruded upon. + </p> + <p> + The workmen went out of the shop door and stood talking. The bald-headed + man was telling a tale to which the others listened eagerly. “It's all + over town,” he said. “From what I hear every one say it isn't the first + time she's been in such a mess. Old Tom Butterworth claimed he sent her + away to school three years ago, but now they say that isn't the truth. + What they say is that she was in the family way to one of her father's + farm hands and had to get out of town.” The man laughed. “Lord, if Clara + Butterworth was my daughter she'd be in a nice fix, wouldn't she, eh?” he + said, laughing. “As it is, she's all right. She's gone now and got herself + mixed up with this swindler Buckley, but her father's money will make it + all right. If she's going to have a kid, no one'll know. Maybe she's + already had the kid. They say she's a regular one for the men.” + </p> + <p> + As the man talked Hugh came to the door and stood in the darkness + listening. For a time the words would not penetrate his consciousness, and + then he remembered what Clara had said. She had said something about + Alfred Buckley and that there would be a story connecting her name with + his. She had been hot and angry and had declared the story a lie. Hugh did + not know what the story was about, but it was evident there was a story + abroad, a scandalous story concerning her and Alfred Buckley. A hot, + impersonal anger took possession of him. “She's in trouble—here's my + chance,” he thought. His tall figure straightened and as he stepped + through the shop door his head struck sharply against the door frame, but + he did not feel the blow that at another time might have knocked him down. + During his whole life he had never struck any one with his fists, and had + never felt a desire to do so, but now hunger to strike and even to kill + took complete possession of him. With a cry of rage his fist shot out and + the old man who had done the talking was knocked senseless into a clump of + weeds that grew near the door. Hugh whirled and struck a second man who + fell through the open doorway into the shop. The third man ran away into + the darkness along Turner's Pike. + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked rapidly to town and through Main Street. He saw Tom + Butterworth walking in the street with Steve Hunter, but turned a corner + to avoid a meeting. “My chance has come,” he kept saying to himself as he + hurried along Medina Road. “Clara's in some kind of trouble. My chance has + come.” + </p> + <p> + By the time he got to the door of the Butterworth house, Hugh's new-found + courage had almost left him, but before it had quite gone he raised his + hand and knocked on the door. By good fortune Clara came to open it. Hugh + took off his hat and turned it awkwardly in his hands. “I came out here to + ask you to marry me,” he said. “I want you to be my wife. Will you do it?” + </p> + <p> + Clara stepped out of the house and closed the door. A whirl of thoughts + ran through her brain. For a moment she felt like laughing, and then what + there was in her of her father's shrewdness came to her rescue. “Why + shouldn't I do it?” she thought. “Here's my chance. This man is excited + and upset now, but he is a man I can respect. It's the best marriage I'll + ever have a chance to make. I do not love him, but perhaps that will come. + This may be the way marriages are made.” + </p> + <p> + Clara put out her hand and laid it on Hugh's arm. “Well,” she said, + hesitatingly, “you wait here a moment.” + </p> + <p> + She went into the house and left Hugh standing in the darkness. He was + terribly afraid. It seemed to him that every secret desire of his life had + got itself suddenly and bluntly expressed. He felt naked and ashamed. “If + she comes out and says she'll marry me, what will I do? What'll I do + then?” he asked himself. + </p> + <p> + When she did come out Clara wore her hat and a long coat. “Come,” she + said, and led him around the house and through the barnyard to one of the + barns. She went into a dark stall and led forth a horse and with Hugh's + help pulled a buggy out of a shed into the barnyard. “If we're going to do + it there's no use putting it off,” she said with a trembling voice. “We + might as well go to the county seat and do it at once.” + </p> + <p> + The horse was hitched and Clara got into the buggy. Hugh climbed in and + sat beside her. She had started to drive out of the barnyard when Jim + Priest stepped suddenly out of the darkness and took hold of the horse's + head. Clara held the buggy whip in her hand and raised it to hit the + horse. A desperate determination that nothing should interfere with her + marriage with Hugh had taken possession of her. “If necessary I'll ride + the man down,” she thought. Jim came to stand beside the buggy. He looked + past Clara at Hugh. “I thought maybe it was that Buckley,” he said. He put + a hand on the buggy dash and laid the other on Clara's arm. “You're a + woman now, Clara, and I guess you know what you're doing. I guess you know + I'm your friend,” he said slowly. “You been in trouble, I know. I couldn't + help hearing what your father said to you about Buckley, he talked so + loud. Clara, I don't want to see you get into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + The farm hand stepped away from the buggy and then came back and again put + his hand on Clara's arm. The silence that lay over the barnyard lasted + until the woman felt she could speak without a break in her voice. + </p> + <p> + “I'm not going very far, Jim,” she said, laughing nervously. “This is Mr. + Hugh McVey and we're going over to the county seat to get married. We'll + be back home before midnight. You put a candle in the window for us.” + </p> + <p> + Hitting the horse a sharp blow, Clara drove quickly past the house and + into the road. She turned south into the hill country through which lay + the road to the county seat. As the horse trotted quickly along, the voice + of Jim Priest called to her out of the darkness of the barnyard, but she + did not stop. The afternoon and evening had been cloudy and the night was + dark. She was glad of that. As the horse went swiftly along she turned to + look at Hugh who sat up very stiffly on the buggy seat and stared straight + ahead. The long horse-like face of the Missourian with its huge nose and + deeply furrowed cheeks was ennobled by the soft darkness, and a tender + feeling crept over her. When he had asked her to become his wife, Clara + had pounced like a wild animal abroad seeking prey and the thing in her + that was like her father, hard, shrewd and quick-witted, had led her to + decide to see the thing through at once. Now she became ashamed, and her + tender mood took the hardness and shrewdness away. “This man and I have a + thousand things we should say to each other before we rush into marriage,” + she thought, and was half inclined to turn the horse and drive back. She + wondered if Hugh had also heard the stories connecting her name with that + of Buckley, the stories she was sure were now running from lip to lip + through the streets of Bidwell, and what version of the tale had been + carried to him. “Perhaps he came to propose marriage in order to protect + me,” she thought, and decided that if he had come for that reason she was + taking an unfair advantage. “It is what Kate Chanceller would call 'doing + the man a dirty, low-down trick,'” she told herself; but even as the + thought came she leaned forward and touching the horse with the whip urged + him even more swiftly along the road. + </p> + <p> + A mile south of the Butterworth farmhouse the road to the county seat + crossed the crest of a hill, the highest point in the county, and from the + road there was a magnificent view of the country lying to the south. The + sky had begun to clear, and as they reached the point known as Lookout + Hill, the moon broke through a tangle of clouds. Clara stopped the horse + and turned to look down the hillside. Below lay the lights of her father's + farmhouse—where he had come as a young man and to which long ago he + had brought his bride. Far below the farmhouse a clustered mass of lights + outlined the swiftly growing town. The determination that had carried + Clara thus far wavered again and a lump came into her throat. + </p> + <p> + Hugh also turned to look but did not see the dark beauty of the country + wearing its night jewels of lights. The woman he wanted so passionately + and of whom he was so afraid had her face turned from him, and he dared to + look at her. He saw the sharp curve of her breasts and in the dim light + her cheeks seemed to glow with beauty. An odd notion came to him. In the + uncertain light her face seemed to move independent of her body. It drew + near him and then drew away. Once he thought the dimly seen white cheek + would touch his own. He waited breathless. A flame of desire ran through + his body. + </p> + <p> + Hugh's mind flew back through the years to his boyhood and young manhood. + In the river town when he was a boy the raftsmen and hangers-on of the + town's saloons, who had sometimes come to spend an afternoon on the river + banks with his father John McVey, often spoke of women and marriage. As + they lay on the burned grass in the warm sunlight they talked and the boy + who lay half asleep nearby listened. The voices came to him as though out + of the clouds or up out of the lazy waters of the great river and the talk + of women awoke his boyhood lusts. One of the men, a tall young fellow with + a mustache and with dark rings under his eyes, told in a lazy, drawling + voice the tale of an adventure had with a woman one night when a raft on + which he was employed had tied up near the city of St. Louis, and Hugh + listened enviously. As he told the tale the young man a little awoke from + his stupor, and when he laughed the other men lying about laughed with + him. “I got the best of her after all,” he boasted. “After it was all over + we went into a little room at the back of a saloon. I watched my chance + and when she went to sleep sitting in a chair I took eight dollars out of + her stocking.” + </p> + <p> + That night in the buggy beside Clara, Hugh thought of himself lying by the + river bank on the summer days. Dreams had come to him there, sometimes + gigantic dreams; but there had also come ugly thoughts and desires. By his + father's shack there was always the sharp rancid smell of decaying fish + and swarms of flies filled the air. Out in the clean Ohio country, in the + hills south of Bidwell, it seemed to him that the smell of decaying fish + came back, that it was in his clothes, that it had in some way worked its + way into his nature. He put up his hand and swept it across his face, an + unconscious return of the perpetual movement of brushing flies away from + his face as he lay half asleep by the river. + </p> + <p> + Little lustful thoughts kept coming to Hugh and made him ashamed. He moved + restlessly in the buggy seat and a lump came into his throat. Again he + looked at Clara. “I'm a poor white,” he thought. “It isn't fitten I should + marry this woman.” + </p> + <p> + From the high spot in the road Clara looked down at her father's house and + below at the lights of the town, that had already spread so far over the + countryside, and up through the hills toward the farm where she had spent + her girlhood and where, as Jim Priest had said, “the sap had begun to run + up the tree.” She began to love the man who was to be her husband, but + like the dreamers of the town, saw him as something a little inhuman, as a + man almost gigantic in his bigness. Many things Kate Chanceller had said + as the two developing women walked and talked in the streets of Columbus + came back to her mind. When they had started again along the road she + continually worried the horse by tapping him with the whip. Like Kate, + Clara wanted to be fair and square. “A woman should be fair and square, + even with a man,” Kate had said. “The man I'm going to have as a husband + is simple and honest,” she thought. “If there are things down there in + town that are not square and fair, he had nothing to do with them.” + Realizing a little Hugh's difficulty in expressing what he must feel, she + wanted to help him, but when she turned and saw how he did not look at her + but continually stared into the darkness, pride kept her silent. “I'll + have to wait until he's ready. Already I've taken things too much into my + own hands. I'll put through this marriage, but when it comes to anything + else he'll have to begin,” she told herself, and a lump came into her + throat and tears to her eyes. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + As he stood alone in the barnyard, excited at the thought of the adventure + on which Clara and Hugh had set out, Jim Priest remembered Tom + Butterworth. For more than thirty years Jim had worked for Tom and they + had one strong impulse that bound them together—their common love of + fine horses. More than once the two men had spent an afternoon together in + the grand stand at the fall trotting meeting at Cleveland. In the late + morning of such a day Tom found Jim wandering from stall to stall, looking + at the horses being rubbed down and prepared for the afternoon's races. In + a generous mood he bought his employee's lunch and took him to a seat in + the grand stand. All afternoon the two men watched the races, smoked and + quarreled. Tom contended that Bud Doble, the debonair, the dramatic, the + handsome, was the greatest of all race horse drivers, and Jim Priest held + Bud Doble in contempt. For him there was but one man of all the drivers he + whole-heartedly admired, Pop Geers, the shrewd and silent. “That Geers of + yours doesn't drive at all. He just sits up there like a stick,” Tom + grumbled. “If a horse can win all right, he'll ride behind him all right. + What I like to see is a driver. Now you look at that Doble. You watch him + bring a horse through the stretch.” + </p> + <p> + Jim looked at his employer with something like pity in his eyes. “Huh,” he + exclaimed. “If you haven't got eyes you can't see.” + </p> + <p> + The farm hand had two strong loves in his life, his employer's daughter + and the race horse driver, Geers. “Geers,” he declared, “was a man born + old and wise.” Often he had seen Geers at the tracks on a morning before + some important race. The driver sat on an upturned box in the sun before + one of the horse stalls. All about him there was the bantering talk of + horsemen and grooms. Bets were made and challenges given. On the tracks + nearby horses, not entered in the races for that day, were being + exercised. Their hoofbeats made a kind of music that made Jim's blood + tingle. Negroes laughed and horses put their heads out at stall doors. The + stallions neighed loudly and the heels of some impatient steed rattled + against the sides of a stall. + </p> + <p> + Every one about the stalls talked of the events of the afternoon and Jim + leaned against the front of one of the stalls and listened, filled with + happiness. He wished the fates had made him a racing man. Then he looked + at Pop Geers, the silent one, who sat for hours dumb and uncommunicative + on a feed box, tapping lightly on the ground with his racing whip and + chewing straw. Jim's imagination was aroused. He had once seen that other + silent American, General Grant, and had been filled with admiration for + him. + </p> + <p> + That was on a great day in Jim's life, the day on which he had seen Grant + going to receive Lee's surrender at Appomattox. There had been a battle + with the Union men pursuing the fleeing Rebs out of Richmond, and Jim, + having secured a bottle of whisky, and having a chronic dislike of + battles, had managed to creep away into a wood. In the distance he heard + shouts and presently saw several men riding furiously down a road. It was + Grant with his aides going to the place where Lee waited. They rode to the + place near where Jim sat with his back against a tree and the bottle + between his legs; then stopped. Then Grant decided not to take part in the + ceremony. His clothes were covered with mud and his beard was ragged. He + knew Lee and knew he would be dressed for the occasion. He was that kind + of a man; he was one fitted for historic pictures and occasions. Grant + wasn't. He told his aides to go on to the spot where Lee waited, told them + what arrangements were to be made, then jumped his horse over a ditch and + rode along a path under the trees toward the spot where Jim lay. + </p> + <p> + That was an event Jim never forgot. He was fascinated at the thought of + what the day meant to Grant and by his apparent indifference. He sat + silently by the tree and when Grant got off his horse and came near, + walking now in the path where the sunlight sifted down through the trees, + he closed his eyes. Grant came to where he sat and stopped, apparently + thinking him dead. His hand reached down and took the bottle of whisky. + For a moment they had something between them, Grant and Jim. They both + understood that bottle of whisky. Jim thought Grant was about to drink, + and opened his eyes a little. Then he closed them. The cork was out of the + bottle and Grant clutched it in his hand tightly. From the distance there + came a vast shout that was picked up and carried by voices far away. The + wood seemed to rock with it. “It's done. The war's over,” Jim thought. + Then Grant reached over and smashed the bottle against the trunk of the + tree above Jim's head. A piece of the flying glass cut his cheek and blood + came. He opened his eyes and looked directly into Grant's eyes. For a + moment the two men stared at each other and the great shout again rolled + over the country. Grant went hurriedly along the path to where he had left + his horse, and mounting, rode away. + </p> + <p> + Standing in the race track looking at Geers, Jim thought of Grant. Then + his mind came back to this other hero. “What a man!” he thought. “Here he + goes from town to town and from race track to race track all through the + spring, summer and fall, and he never loses his head, never gets excited. + To win horse races is the same as winning battles. When I'm at home + plowing corn on summer afternoons, this Geers is away somewhere at some + track with all the people gathered about and waiting. To me it would be + like being drunk all the time, but you see he isn't drunk. Whisky could + make him stupid. It couldn't make him drunk. There he sits hunched up like + a sleeping dog. He looks as though he cared about nothing on earth, and + he'll sit like that through three-quarters of the hardest race, waiting, + taking advantage of every little stretch of firm hard ground on the track, + saving his horse, watching, watching his horse too, waiting. What a man! + He works the horse into fourth place, into third, into second. The crowd + in the grand stand, such fellows as Tom Butterworth, have not seen what + he's doing. He sits still. By God, what a man! He waits. He looks half + asleep. If he doesn't have to do it, he makes no effort. If the horse has + it in him to win without help he sits still. The people are shouting and + jumping up out of their seats in the grand stand, and if that Bud Doble + has a horse in the race he's leaning forward in the sulky, shouting at his + horse and making a holy show of himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, that Geers! He waits. He doesn't think of the people but of the horse + he's driving. When the time comes, just the right time, that Geers, he + lets the horse know. They are one at that moment, like Grant and I were + over that bottle of whisky. Something happens between them. Something + inside the man says, 'now,' and the message runs along the reins to the + horse's brain. It flies down into his legs. There is a rush. The head of + the horse has just worked its way out in front by inches—not too + soon, nothing wasted. Ha, that Geers! Bud Doble, huh!” + </p> + <p> + On the night of Clara's marriage after she and Hugh had disappeared down + the county seat road, Jim hurried into the barn and, bringing out a horse, + sprang on his back. He was sixty-three but could mount a horse like a + young man. As he rode furiously toward Bidwell he thought, not of Clara + and her adventure, but of her father. To both men the right kind of + marriage meant success in life for a woman. Nothing else really mattered + much if that were accomplished. He thought of Tom Butterworth, who, he + told himself, had fussed with Clara just as Bud Doble often fussed with a + horse in a race. He had himself been like Pop Geers. All along he had + known and understood the mare colt, Clara. Now she had come through; she + had won the race of life. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, that old fool!” Jim whispered to himself as he rode swiftly down the + dark road. When the horse ran clattering over a small wooden bridge and + came to the first of the houses of the town, he felt like one coming to + announce a victory, and half expected a vast shout to come out of the + darkness, as it had come in the moment of Grant's victory over Lee. + </p> + <p> + Jim could not find his employer at the hotel or in Main Street, but + remembered a tale he had heard whispered. Fanny Twist the milliner lived + in a little frame house in Garfield Street, far out at the eastern edge of + town, and he went there. He banged boldly on the door and the woman + appeared. “I've got to see Tom Butterworth,” he said. “It's important. + It's about his daughter. Something has happened to her.” + </p> + <p> + The door closed and presently Tom came around the corner of the house. He + was furious. Jim's horse stood in the road, and he went straight to him + and took hold of the bit. “What do you mean by coming here?” he asked + sharply. “Who told you I was here? What business you got coming here and + making a show of yourself? What's the matter of you? Are you drunk or out + of your head?” + </p> + <p> + Jim got off the horse and told Tom the news. For a moment the two stood + looking at each other. “Hugh McVey—Hugh McVey, by crackies, are you + right, Jim?” Tom exclaimed. “No missfire, eh? She's really gone and done + it? Hugh McVey, eh? By crackies!” + </p> + <p> + “They're on the way to the county seat now,” Jim said softly. “Missfire! + Not on your life.” His voice lost the cool, quiet tone he had so often + dreamed of maintaining in great emergencies. “I figure they'll be back by + twelve or one,” he said eagerly. “We got to blow 'em out, Tom. We got to + give that girl and her husband the biggest blowout ever seen in this + county, and we got just about three hours to get ready for it.” + </p> + <p> + “Get off that horse and give me a boost,” Tom commanded. With a grunt of + satisfaction he sprang to the horse's back. The belated impulse to + philander that an hour before sent him creeping through back streets and + alleyways to the door of Fanny Twist's house was all gone, and in its + place had come the spirit of the man of affairs, the man who, as he + himself often boasted, made things move and kept them on the move. “Now + look here, Jim,” he said sharply, “there are three livery stables in this + town. You engage every horse they've got for the night. Have the horses + hitched to any kind of rigs you can find, buggies, surreys, spring wagons, + anything. Have them get drivers off the streets, anywhere. Then have them + all brought around in front of the Bidwell House and held for me. When + you've done that, you go to Henry Heller's house. I guess you can find it. + You found this house where I was fast enough. He lives on Campus Street + just beyond the new Baptist Church. If he's gone to bed you get him up. + Tell him to get his orchestra together and have him bring all the lively + music he's got. Tell him to bring his men to the Bidwell House as fast as + he can get them there.” + </p> + <p> + Tom rode off along the street followed by Jim Priest, running at the + horse's heels. When he had gone a little way he stopped. “Don't let any + one fuss with you about prices to-night, Jim,” he called. “Tell every one + it's for me. Tell 'em Tom Butterworth'll pay what they ask. The sky's the + limit to-night, Jim. That's the word, the sky's the limit.” + </p> + <p> + To the older citizens of Bidwell, those who lived there when every + citizen's affairs were the affair of the town, that evening will be long + remembered. The new men, the Italians, Greeks, Poles, Rumanians, and many + other strange-talking, dark-skinned men who had come with the coming of + the factories, went on with their lives on that evening as on all others. + They worked in the night shift at the Corn-Cutting Machine Plant, at the + foundry, the bicycle factory or at the big new Tool Machine Factory that + had just moved to Bidwell from Cleveland. Those who were not at work + lounged in the streets or wandered aimlessly in and out of saloons. Their + wives and children were housed in the hundreds of new frame houses in the + streets that now crept out in all directions. In those days in Bidwell new + houses seemed to spring out of the ground like mushrooms. In the morning + there was a field or an orchard on Turner Pike or on any one of a dozen + roads leading out of town. On the trees in the orchard green apples hung + down waiting, ready to ripen. Grasshoppers sang in the long grass beneath + the trees. + </p> + <p> + Then appeared Ben Peeler with a swarm of men. The trees were cut and the + song of the grasshopper choked beneath piles of boards. There was a great + shouting and rattling of hammers. A whole street of houses, all alike, + universally ugly, had been added to the vast number of new houses already + built by that energetic carpenter and his partner Gordon Hart. + </p> + <p> + To the people who lived in these houses, the excitement of Tom Butterworth + and Jim Priest meant nothing. Half sullenly they worked, striving to make + money enough to take them back to their native lands. In the new place + they had not, as they had hoped, been received as brothers. A marriage or + a death there meant nothing to them. + </p> + <p> + To the old townsmen however, those who remembered Tom when he was a simple + farmer and when Steve Hunter was looked upon with contempt as a boasting + young squirt, the night rocked with excitement. Men ran through the + streets. Drivers lashed their horses along roads. Tom was everywhere. He + was like a general in charge of the defenses of a besieged town. The cooks + at all three of the town's hotels were sent back into their kitchens, + waiters were found and hurried out to the Butterworth house, and Henry + Heller's orchestra was instructed to get out there at once and to start + playing the liveliest possible music. + </p> + <p> + Tom asked every man and woman he saw to the wedding party. The hotel + keeper was invited with his wife and daughter and two or three keepers of + stores who came to the hotel to bring supplies were asked, commanded to + come. Then there were the men of the factories, the office men and + superintendents, new men who had never seen Clara. They also, with the + town bankers and other solid fellows with money in the banks, who were + investors in Tom's enterprises, were invited. “Put on the best clothes + you've got in the world and have your women folks do the same,” he said + laughing. “Then you get out to my house as soon as you can. If you haven't + any way to get there, come to the Bidwell House. I'll get you out.” + </p> + <p> + Tom did not forget that in order to have his wedding party go as he + wished, he would need to serve drinks. Jim Priest went from bar to bar. + “What wine you got—good wine? How much you got?” he asked at each + place. Steve Hunter had in the cellar of his house six cases of champagne + kept there against a time when some important guest, the Governor of the + State or a Congressman, might come to town. He felt that on such occasions + it was up to him to see that the town, as he said, “did itself proud.” + When he heard what was going on he hurried to the Bidwell House and + offered to send his entire stock of wine out to Tom's house, and his offer + was accepted. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Jim Priest had an idea. When the guests were all assembled and when the + farm kitchen was filled with cooks and waiters who stumbled over each + other, he took his idea to Tom. There was, he explained, a short-cut + through fields and along lanes to a point on the county seat road, three + miles from the house. “I'll go there and hide myself,” he said. “When they + come along, suspecting nothing, I'll cut out on horseback and get here a + half hour before them. You make every one in the house hide and keep still + when they drive into the yard. We'll put out all the lights. We'll give + that pair the surprise of their lives.” + </p> + <p> + Jim had concealed a quart bottle of wine in his pocket and, as he rode + away on his mission, stopped from time to time to take a hearty drink. As + his horse trotted along lanes and through fields, the horse that was + bringing Clara and Hugh home from their adventure cocked his ears and + remembered the comfortable stall filled with hay in the Butterworth barn. + The horse trotted swiftly along and Hugh in the buggy beside Clara was + lost in the same dense silence that all the evening had lain over him like + a cloak. In a dim way he was resentful and felt that time was running too + fast. The hours and the passing events were like the waters of a river in + flood time, and he was like a man in a boat without oars, being carried + helplessly forward. Occasionally he thought courage had come to him and he + half turned toward Clara and opened his mouth, hoping words would come to + his lips, but the silence that had taken hold of him was like a disease + whose grip on its victim could not be broken. He closed his mouth and wet + his lips with his tongue. Clara saw him do the thing several times. He + began to seem animal-like and ugly to her. “It's not true that I thought + of her and asked her to be my wife only because I wanted a woman,” Hugh + reassured himself. “I've been lonely, all my life I've been lonely. I want + to find my way into some one's heart, and she is the one.” + </p> + <p> + Clara also remained silent. She was angry. “If he didn't want to marry me, + why did he ask me? Why did he come?” she asked herself. “Well, I'm + married. I've done the thing we women are always thinking about,” she told + herself, her mind taking another turn. The thought frightened her and a + shiver of dread ran over her body. Then her mind went to the defense of + Hugh. “It isn't his fault. I shouldn't have rushed things as I have. + Perhaps I'm not meant for marriage at all,” she thought. + </p> + <p> + The ride homeward dragged on indefinitely. The clouds were blown out of + the sky, the moon came out and the stars looked down on the two perplexed + people. To relieve the feeling of tenseness that had taken hold of her + Clara's mind resorted to a trick. Her eyes sought out a tree or the lights + of a farmhouse far ahead and she tried to count the hoof beats of the + horse until they had come to it. She wanted to hurry homeward and at the + same time looked forward with dread to the night alone in the dark + farmhouse with Hugh. Not once during the homeward drive did she take the + whip out of its socket or speak to the horse. + </p> + <p> + When at last the horse trotted eagerly across the crest of the hill, from + which there was such a magnificent view of the country below, neither + Clara nor Hugh turned to look. With bowed heads they rode, each trying to + find courage to face the possibilities of the night. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + In the farmhouse Tom and his guests waited in winelit suspense, and at + last Jim Priest rode shouting out of a lane to the door. “They're coming—they're + coming,” he shouted, and ten minutes later and after Tom had twice lost + his temper and cursed the girl waitresses from the town hotels who were + inclined to giggle, all was silent and dark about the house and the + barnyard. When all was quiet Jim Priest crept into the kitchen, and + stumbling over the legs of the guests, made his way to a front window + where he placed a lighted candle. Then he went out of the house to lie on + his back beneath a bush in the yard. In the house he had secured for + himself a second bottle of wine, and as Clara with her husband turned in + at the gate and drove into the barnyard, the only sound that broke the + intense silence came from the soft gurgle of the wine finding its way down + his throat. + </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 XVII + </h2> + <p> + As in most older American homes, the kitchen at the rear of the + Butterworth farmhouse was large and comfortable. Much of the life of the + house had been led there. Clara sat in a deep window that looked out + across a little gully where in the spring a small stream ran down along + the edge of the barnyard. She was then a quiet child and loved to sit for + hours unobserved and undisturbed. At her back was the kitchen with the + warm, rich smells and the soft, quick, persistent footsteps of her mother. + Her eyes closed and she slept. Then she awoke. Before her lay a world into + which her fancy could creep out. Across the stream before her eyes went a + small, wooden bridge and over this in the spring horses went away to the + fields or to sheds where they were hitched to milk or ice wagons. The + sound of the hoofs of the horses pounding on the bridge was like thunder, + harnesses rattled, voices shouted. Beyond the bridge was a path leading + off to the left and along the path were three small houses where hams were + smoked. Men came from the wagon sheds bearing the meat on their shoulders + and went into the little houses. Fires were lighted and smoke crawled + lazily up through the roofs. In a field that lay beyond the smoke houses a + man came to plow. The child, curled into a little, warm ball in the window + seat, was happy. When she closed her eyes fancies came like flocks of + white sheep running out of a green wood. Although she was later to become + a tomboy and run wild over the farm and through the barns, and although + all her life she loved the soil and the sense of things growing and of + food for hungry mouths being prepared, there was in her, even as a child, + a hunger for the life of the spirit. In her dreams women, beautifully + gowned and with rings on their hands, came to brush the wet, matted hair + back from her forehead. Across the little wooden bridge before her eyes + came wonderful men, women, and children. The children ran forward. They + cried out to her. She thought of them as brothers and sisters who were to + come to live in the farmhouse and who were to make the old house ring with + laughter. The children ran toward her with outstretched hands, but never + arrived at the house. The bridge extended itself. It stretched out under + their feet so that they ran forward forever on the bridge. + </p> + <p> + And behind the children came men and women, sometimes together, sometimes + walking alone. They did not seem like the children to belong to her. Like + the women who came to touch her hot forehead, they were beautifully gowned + and walked with stately dignity. + </p> + <p> + The child climbed out of the window and stood on the kitchen floor. Her + mother hurried about. She was feverishly active and often did not hear + when the child spoke. “I want to know about my brothers and sisters: where + are they, why don't they come here?” she asked, but the mother did not + hear, and if she did, had nothing to say. Sometimes she stopped to kiss + the child and tears came to her eyes. Then something cooking on the + kitchen stove demanded attention. “You run outside,” she said hurriedly, + and turned again to her work. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + From the chair where Clara sat at the wedding feast provided by the energy + of her father and the enthusiasm of Jim Priest, she could see over her + father's shoulder into the farm house kitchen. As when she was a child, + she closed her eyes and dreamed of another kind of feast. With a growing + sense of bitterness she realized that all her life, all through her + girlhood and young womanhood, she had been waiting for this, her wedding + night, and that now, having come, the occasion for which she had waited so + long and concerning which she had dreamed so many dreams, had aborted into + an occasion for the display of ugliness and vulgarity. Her father, the + only other person in the room in any way related to her, sat at the other + end of the long table. Her aunt had gone away on a visit, and in the + crowded, noisy room there was no woman to whom she could turn for + understanding. She looked past her father's shoulder and directly into the + wide window seat where she had spent so many hours of her childhood. Again + she wanted brothers and sisters. “The beautiful men and women of the + dreams were meant to come at this time, that's what the dreams were about; + but, like the unborn children that ran with outstretched hands, they + cannot get over the bridge and into the house,” she thought vaguely. “I + wish Mother had lived, or that Kate Chanceller were here,” she whispered + to herself as, raising her eyes, she looked at her father. + </p> + <p> + Clara felt like an animal driven into a corner and surrounded by foes. Her + father sat at the feast between two women, Mrs. Steve Hunter who was + inclined to corpulency, and a thin woman named Bowles, the wife of an + undertaker of Bidwell. They continually whispered, smiled, and nodded + their heads. Hugh sat on the opposite side of the same table, and when he + raised his eyes from the plate of food before him, could see past the head + of a large, masculine-looking woman into the farmhouse parlor where there + was another table, also filled with guests. Clara turned from looking at + her father to look at her husband. He was merely a tall man with a long + face, who could not raise his eyes. His long neck stuck itself out of a + stiff white collar. To Clara he was, at the moment, a being without + personality, one that the crowd at the table had swallowed up as it so + busily swallowed food and wine. When she looked at him he seemed to be + drinking a good deal. His glass was always being filled and emptied. At + the suggestion of the woman who sat beside him, he performed the task of + emptying it, without raising his eyes, and Steve Hunter, who sat on the + other side of the table, leaned over and filled it again. Steve like her + father whispered and winked. “On the night of my wedding I was piped, you + bet, as piped as a hatter. It's a good thing. It gives a man nerve,” he + explained to the masculine-looking woman to whom he was telling, with a + good deal of attention to details, the tale of his own marriage night. + </p> + <p> + Clara did not look at Hugh again. What he did seemed no concern of hers. + Bowles the Bidwell undertaker had surrendered to the influence of the wine + that had been flowing freely since the guests arrived and now got to his + feet and began to talk. His wife tugged at his coat and tried to force him + back into his seat, but Tom Butterworth jerked her arm away. “Ah, let him + alone. He's got a story to tell,” he said to the woman, who blushed and + put her handkerchief over her face. “Well, it's a fact, that's how it + happened,” the undertaker declared in a loud voice. “You see the sleeves + of her nightgown were tied in hard knots by her rascally brothers. When I + tried to unfasten them with my teeth I bit big holes in the sleeves.” + </p> + <p> + Clara gripped the arm of her chair. “If I can let the night pass without + showing these people how much I hate them I'll do well enough,” she + thought grimly. She looked at the dishes laden with food and wished she + could break them one by one over the heads of her father's guests. As a + relief to her mind, she again looked past her father's head and through a + doorway into the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + In the big room three or four cooks were busily engaged in the preparation + of food, and waitresses continually brought steaming dishes and put them + on the tables. She thought of her mother's life, the life led in that + room, married to the man who was her own father and who no doubt, but for + the fact that circumstances had made him a man of wealth, would have been + satisfied to see his daughter led into just such another life. + </p> + <p> + “Kate was right about men. They want something from women, but what do + they care what kind of lives we lead after they get what they want?” she + thought grimly. + </p> + <p> + The more to separate herself from the feasting, laughing crowd, Clara + tried to think out the details of her mother's life. “It was the life of a + beast,” she thought. Like herself, her mother had come to the house with + her husband on the night of her marriage. There was just such another + feast. The country was new then and the people for the most part + desperately poor. Still there was drinking. She had heard her father and + Jim Priest speak of the drinking bouts of their youth. The men came as + they had come now, and with them came women, women who had been coarsened + by the life they led. Pigs were killed and game brought from the forests. + The men drank, shouted, fought, and played practical jokes. Clara wondered + if any of the men and women in the room would dare go upstairs into her + sleeping room and tie knots in her night clothes. They had done that when + her mother came to the house as a bride. Then they had all gone away and + her father had taken his bride upstairs. He was drunk, and her own husband + Hugh was now getting drunk. Her mother had submitted. Her life had been a + story of submission. Kate Chanceller had said it was so married women + lived, and her mother's life had proven the truth of the statement. In the + farmhouse kitchen, where now three or four cooks worked so busily, she had + worked her life out alone. From the kitchen she had gone directly upstairs + and to bed with her husband. Once a week on Saturday afternoons she went + into town and stayed long enough to buy supplies for another week of + cooking. “She must have been kept going until she dropped down dead,” + Clara thought, and her mind taking another turn, added, “and many others, + both men and women, must have been forced by circumstances to serve my + father in the same blind way. It was all done in order that prosperity and + money with which to do vulgar things might be his.” + </p> + <p> + Clara's mother had brought but one child into the world. She wondered why. + Then she wondered if she would become the mother of a child. Her hands no + longer gripped the arms of her chair, but lay on the table before her. She + looked at them and they were strong. She was herself a strong woman. After + the feast was over and the guests had gone away, Hugh, given courage by + the drinks he continued to consume, would come upstairs to her. Some twist + of her mind made her forget her husband, and in fancy she felt herself + about to be attacked by a strange man on a dark road at the edge of a + forest. The man had tried to take her into his arms and kiss her and she + had managed to get her hands on his throat. Her hands lying on the table + twitched convulsively. + </p> + <p> + In the big farmhouse dining-room and in the parlor where the second table + of guests sat, the wedding feast went on. Afterward when she thought of + it, Clara always remembered her wedding feast as a horsey affair. + Something in the natures of Tom Butterworth and Jim Priest, she thought, + expressed itself that night. The jokes that went up and down the table + were horsey, and Clara thought the women who sat at the tables heavy and + mare-like. + </p> + <p> + Jim did not come to the table to sit with the others, was in fact not + invited, but all evening he kept appearing and reappearing and had the air + of a master of ceremonies. Coming into the dining room he stood by the + door, scratching his head. Then he went out. It was as though he had said + to himself, “Well, it's all right, everything is going all right, + everything is lively, you see.” All his life Jim had been a drinker of + whisky and knew his limitations. His system as a drinking man had always + been quite simple. On Saturday afternoons, when the work about the barns + was done for the day and the other employees had gone away, he went to sit + on the steps of a corncrib with the bottle in his hand. In the winter he + went to sit by the kitchen fire in a little house below the apple orchard + where he and the other employees slept. He took a long drink from the + bottle and then holding it in his hand sat for a time thinking of the + events of his life. Whisky made him somewhat sentimental. After one long + drink he thought of his youth in a town in Pennsylvania. He had been one + of six children, all boys, and at an early age his mother had died. Jim + thought of her and then of his father. When he had himself come west into + Ohio, and later when he was a soldier in the Civil War, he despised his + father and reverenced the memory of his mother. In the war he had found + himself physically unable to stand up before the enemy during a battle. + When the report of guns was heard and the other men of his company got + grimly into line and went forward, something happened to his legs and he + wanted to run away. So great was the desire in him that craftiness grew in + his brain. Watching his chance, he pretended to have been shot and fell to + the ground, and when the others had gone on crept away and hid himself. He + found it was not impossible to disappear altogether and reappear in + another place. The draft went into effect and many men not liking the + notion of war were willing to pay large sums to the men who would go in + their places. Jim went into the business of enlisting and deserting. All + about him were men talking of the necessity of saving the country, and for + four years he thought only of saving his own hide. Then suddenly the war + was over and he became a farm hand. As he worked all week in the fields, + and in the evening sometimes, as he lay in his bed and the moon came up, + he thought of his mother and of the nobility and sacrifice of her life. He + wished to be such another. After having two or three drinks out of the + bottle, he admired his father, who in the Pennsylvania town had borne the + reputation of being a liar and a rascal. After his mother's death his + father had managed to marry a widow who owned a farm. “The old man was a + slick one,” he said aloud, tipping up the bottle and taking another long + drink. “If I had stayed at home until I got more understanding, the old + man and I together might have done something.” He finished the bottle and + went away to sleep on the hay, or if it were winter, threw himself into + one of the bunks in the bunk house. He dreamed of becoming one who went + through life beating people out of money, living by his wits, getting the + best of every one. + </p> + <p> + Until the night of Clara's wedding Jim had never tasted wine, and as it + did not bring on a desire for sleep, he thought himself unaffected. “It's + like sweetened water,” he said, going into the darkness of the barnyard + and emptying another half bottle down his throat. “The stuff has no kick. + Drinking it is like drinking sweet cider.” + </p> + <p> + Jim got into a frolicsome mood and went through the crowded kitchen and + into the dining room where the guests were assembled. At the moment the + rather riotous laughter and story telling had ceased and everything was + quiet. He was worried. “Things aren't going well. Clara's party is + becoming a frost,” he thought resentfully. He began to dance a + heavy-footed jig on a little open place by the kitchen door and the guests + stopped talking to watch. They shouted and clapped their hands. A thunder + of applause arose. The guests who were seated in the parlor and who could + not see the performance got up and crowded into the doorway that connected + the two rooms. Jim became extraordinarily bold, and as one of the young + women Tom had hired as waitresses at that moment went past bearing a large + dish of food, he swung himself quickly about and took her into his arms. + The dish flew across the floor and broke against a table leg and the young + woman screamed. A farm dog that had found its way into the kitchen rushed + into the room and barked loudly. Henry Heller's orchestra, concealed under + a stairway that led to the upper part of the house, began to play + furiously. A strange animal fervor swept over Jim. His legs flew rapidly + about and his heavy feet made a great clatter on the floor. The young + woman in his arms screamed and laughed. Jim closed his eyes and shouted. + He felt that the wedding party had until that moment been a failure and + that he was transforming it into a success. Rising to their feet the men + shouted, clapped their hands and beat with their fists on the table. When + the orchestra came to the end of the dance, Jim stood flushed and + triumphant before the guests, holding the woman in his arms. In spite of + her struggles he held her tightly against his breast and kissed her eyes, + cheeks, and mouth. Then releasing her he winked and made a gesture for + silence. “On a wedding night some one's got to have the nerve to do a + little love-making,” he said, looking pointedly toward the place where + Hugh sat with head bent and with his eyes staring at a glass of wine that + sat at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + It was past two o'clock when the feast came to an end. When the guests + began to depart, Clara stood for a moment alone and tried to get herself + in hand. Something inside her felt cold and old. If she had often thought + she wanted a man, and that life as a married woman would put an end to her + problems, she did not think so at that moment. “What I want above + everything else is a woman,” she thought. All the evening her mind had + been trying to clutch and hold the almost forgotten figure of her mother, + but it was too vague and shadowy. With her mother she had never walked and + talked late at night through streets of towns when the world was asleep + and when thoughts were born in herself. “After all,” she thought, “Mother + may also have belonged to all this.” She looked at the people preparing to + depart. Several men had gathered in a group by the door. One of them told + a story at which the others laughed loudly. The women standing about had + flushed and, Clara thought, coarse faces. “They have gone into marriage + like cattle,” she told herself. Her mind, running out of the room, began + to caress the memory of her one woman friend, Kate Chanceller. Often on + late spring afternoons as she and Kate had walked together something very + like love-making had happened between them. They went along quietly and + evening came on. Suddenly they stopped in the street and Kate had put her + arms about Clara's shoulders. For a moment they stood thus close together + and a strange gentle and yet hungry look came into Kate's eyes. It only + lasted a moment and when it happened both women were somewhat embarrassed. + Kate laughed and taking hold of Clara's arm pulled her along the sidewalk. + “Let's walk like the devil,” she said, “come on, let's get up some speed.” + </p> + <p> + Clara put her hands to her eyes as though to shut out the scene in the + room. “If I could have been with Kate this evening I could have come to a + man believing in the possible sweetness of marriage,” she thought. + </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 XVIII + </h2> + <p> + Jim Priest was very drunk, but insisted on hitching a team to the + Butterworth carriage and driving it loaded with guests to town. Every one + laughed at him, but he drove up to the farmhouse door and in a loud voice + declared he knew what he was doing. Three men got into the carriage and + beating the horses furiously Jim sent them galloping away. + </p> + <p> + When an opportunity offered, Clara went silently out of the hot + dining-room and through a door to a porch at the back of the house. The + kitchen door was open and the waitresses and cooks from town were + preparing to depart. One of the young women came out into the darkness + accompanied by a man, evidently one of the guests. They had both been + drinking and stood for a moment in the darkness with their bodies pressed + together. “I wish it were our wedding night,” the man's voice whispered, + and the woman laughed. After a long kiss they went back into the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + A farm dog appeared and going up to Clara licked her hand. She went around + the house and stood back of a bush in the darkness near where the + carriages were being loaded. Her father with Steve Hunter and his wife + came and got into a carriage. Tom was in an expansive, generous mood. “You + know, Steve, I told you and several others my Clara was engaged to Alfred + Buckley,” he said. “Well, I was mistaken. The whole thing was a lie. The + truth is I shot off my mouth without talking to Clara. I had seen them + together and now and then Buckley used to come out here to the house in + the evening, although he never came except when I was here. He told me + Clara had promised to marry him, and like a fool I took his word. I never + even asked. That's the kind of a fool I was and I was a bigger fool to go + telling the story. All the time Clara and Hugh were engaged and I never + suspected. They told me about it to-night.” + </p> + <p> + Clara stood by the bush until she thought the last of the guests had gone. + The lie her father had told seemed only a part of the evening's vulgarity. + Near the kitchen door the waitresses, cooks and musicians were being + loaded into the bus that had been driven out from the Bidwell House. She + went into the dining-room. Sadness had taken the place of the anger in + her, but when she saw Hugh the anger came back. Piles of dishes filled + with food lay all about the room and the air was heavy with the smell of + food. Hugh stood by a window looking out into the dark farmyard. He held + his hat in his hand. “You might put your hat away,” she said sharply. + “Have you forgotten you're married to me and that you now live here in + this house?” She laughed nervously and walked to the kitchen door. + </p> + <p> + Her mind still clung to the past and to the days when she was a child and + had spent so many hours in the big, silent kitchen. Something was about to + happen that would take her past away—destroy it, and the thought + frightened her. “I have not been very happy in this house but there have + been certain moments, certain feelings I've had,” she thought. Stepping + through the doorway she stood for a moment in the kitchen with her back to + the wall and with her eyes closed. Through her mind went a troop of + figures, the stout determined figure of Kate Chanceller who had known how + to love in silence; the wavering, hurrying figure of her mother; her + father as a young man coming in after a long drive to warm his hands by + the kitchen fire; a strong, hard-faced woman from town who had once worked + for Tom as cook and who was reported to have been the mother of two + illegitimate children; and the figures of her childhood fancy walking over + the bridge toward her, clad in beautiful raiment. + </p> + <p> + Back of these figures were other figures, long forgotten but now sharply + remembered—farm girls who had come to work by the day; tramps who + had been fed at the kitchen door; young farm hands who suddenly + disappeared from the routine of the farm's life and were never seen again, + a young man with a red bandana handkerchief about his neck who had thrown + her a kiss as she stood with her face pressed against a window. + </p> + <p> + Once a high school girl from town had come to spend the night with Clara. + After the evening meal the two girls walked into the kitchen and stood by + a window, looking out. Something had happened within them. Moved by a + common impulse they went outside and walked for a long way under the stars + along the silent country roads. They came to a field where men were + burning brush. Where there had been a forest there was now only a stump + field and the figures of the men carrying armloads of the dry branches of + trees and throwing them on the fire. The fire made a great splash of color + in the gathering darkness and for some obscure reason both girls were + deeply moved by the sight, sound, and perfume of the night. The figures of + the men seemed to dance back and forth in the light. Instinctively Clara + turned her face upward and looked at the stars. She was conscious of them + and of their beauty and the wide sweeping beauty of night as she had never + been before. A wind began to sing in the trees of a distant forest, dimly + seen far away across fields. The sound was soft and insistent and crept + into her soul. In the grass at her feet insects sang an accompaniment to + the soft, distant music. + </p> + <p> + How vividly Clara now remembered that night! It came sharply back as she + stood with closed eyes in the farm kitchen and waited for the consummation + of the adventure on which she had set out. With it came other memories. + “How many fleeting dreams and half visions of beauty I have had!” she + thought. + </p> + <p> + Everything in life that she had thought might in some way lead toward + beauty now seemed to Clara to lead to ugliness. “What a lot I've missed,” + she muttered, and opening her eyes went back into the dining-room and + spoke to Hugh, still standing and staring out into the darkness. + </p> + <p> + “Come,” she said sharply, and led the way up a stairway. The two went + silently up the stairs, leaving the lights burning brightly in the rooms + below. They came to a door leading to a bedroom, and Clara opened it. + “It's time for a man and his wife to go to bed,” she said in a low, husky + voice. Hugh followed her into the room. He walked to a chair by a window + and sitting down, took off his shoes and sat holding them in his hand. He + did not look at Clara but into the darkness outside the window. Clara let + down her hair and began to unfasten her dress. She took off an outer dress + and threw it over a chair. Then she went to a drawer and pulling it out + looked for a night dress. She became angry and threw several garments on + the floor. “Damn!” she said explosively, and went out of the room. + </p> + <p> + Hugh sprang to his feet. The wine he had drunk had not taken effect and + Steve Hunter had been forced to go home disappointed. All the evening + something stronger than wine had been gripping him. Now he knew what it + was. All through the evening thoughts and desires had whirled through his + brain. Now they were all gone. “I won't let her do it,” he muttered, and + running quickly to the door closed it softly. With the shoes still held in + his hand he crawled through a window. He had expected to leap into the + darkness, but by chance his stocking feet alighted on the roof of the farm + kitchen that extended out from the rear of the house. He ran quickly down + the roof and jumped, alighting in a clump of bushes that tore long + scratches on his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + For five minutes Hugh ran toward the town of Bidwell, then turned, and + climbing a fence, walked across a field. The shoes were still gripped + tightly in his hand and the field was stony, but he did not notice and was + unconscious of pain from his bruised feet or from the torn places on his + cheeks. Standing in the field he heard Jim Priest drive homeward along the + road. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “My bonny lies over the ocean, + My bonny lies over the sea, + My bonny lies over the ocean, + O, bring back my bonny to me.” + </pre> + <p> + sang the farm hand. + </p> + <p> + Hugh walked across several fields, and when he came to a small stream, sat + down on the bank and put on his shoes. “I've had my chance and missed it,” + he thought bitterly. Several times he repeated the words. “I've had my + chance and I've missed,” he said again as he stopped by a fence that + separated the fields in which he had been walking. At the words he stopped + and put his hand to his throat. A half-stifled sob broke from him. “I've + had my chance and missed,” he said again. + </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 XIX + </h2> + <p> + On the day after the feast managed by Tom and Jim, it was Tom who brought + Hugh back to live with his wife. The older man had come to the farmhouse + on the next morning bringing three women from town who were, as he + explained to Clara, to clear away the mess left by the guests. The + daughter had been deeply touched by what Hugh had done, and at the moment + loved him deeply, but did not choose to let her father know how she felt. + “I suppose you got him drunk, you and your friends,” she said. “At any + rate, he's not here.” + </p> + <p> + Tom said nothing, but when Clara had told the story of Hugh's + disappearance, drove quickly away. “He'll come to the shop,” he thought + and went there, leaving his horse tied to a post in front. At two o'clock + his son-in-law came slowly over the Turner's Pike bridge and approached + the shop. He was hatless and his clothes and hair were covered with dust, + while in his eyes was the look of a hunted animal. Tom met him with a + smile and asked no questions. “Come,” he said, and taking Hugh by the arm + led him to the buggy. As he untied the horse he stopped to light a cigar. + “I'm going down to one of my lower farms. Clara thought you would like to + go with me,” he said blandly. + </p> + <p> + Tom drove to the McCoy house and stopped. + </p> + <p> + “You'd better clean up a little,” he said without looking at Hugh. “You go + in and shave and change your clothes. I'm going up-town. I got to go to a + store.” + </p> + <p> + Driving a short distance along the road, Tom stopped and shouted. “You + might pack your grip and bring it along,” he called. “You'll be needing + your things. We won't be back here to-day.” + </p> + <p> + The two men stayed together all that day, and in the evening Tom took Hugh + to the farmhouse and stayed for the evening meal. “He was a little drunk,” + he explained to Clara. “Don't be hard on him. He was a little drunk.” + </p> + <p> + For both Clara and Hugh that evening was the hardest of their lives. After + the servants had gone, Clara sat under a lamp in the dining-room and + pretended to read a book and in desperation Hugh also tried to read. + </p> + <p> + Again the time came to go upstairs to the bedroom, and again Clara led the + way. She went to the door of the room from which Hugh had fled and opening + it stepped aside. Then she put out her hand. “Good-night,” she said, and + going down a hallway went into another room and closed the door. + </p> + <p> + Hugh's experience with the school teacher was repeated on that second + night in the farmhouse. He took off his shoes and prepared for bed. Then + he crept out into the hallway and went softly to the door of Clara's room. + Several times he made the journey along the carpeted hallway, and once his + hand was on the knob of the door, but each time he lost heart and returned + to his own room. Although he did not know it Clara, like Rose McCoy on + that other occasion, expected him to come to her, and knelt on the floor + just inside the door, waiting, hoping for, and fearing the coming of the + man. + </p> + <p> + Unlike the school teacher, Clara wanted to help Hugh. Marriage had perhaps + given her that impulse, but she did not follow it, and when at last Hugh, + shaken and ashamed, gave up the struggle with himself, she arose and went + to her bed where she threw herself down and wept, as Hugh had wept + standing in the darkness of the fields on the night before. + </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 XX + </h2> + <p> + It was a hot, dusty day, a week after Hugh's marriage to Clara, and Hugh + was at work in his shop at Bidwell. How many days, weeks, and months he + had already worked there, thinking in iron—twisted, turned, tortured + to follow the twistings and turnings of his mind—standing all day by + a bench beside other workmen—before him always the little piles of + wheels, strips of unworked iron and steel, blocks of wood, the + paraphernalia of the inventor's trade. Beside him, now that money had come + to him, more and more workmen, men who had invented nothing, who were + without distinction in the life of the community, who had married no rich + man's daughter. + </p> + <p> + In the morning the other workmen, skillful fellows, who knew as Hugh had + never known, the science of their iron craft, came straggling through the + shop door into his presence. They were a little embarrassed before him. + The greatness of his name rang in their minds. + </p> + <p> + Many of the workmen were husbands, fathers of families. In the morning + they left their houses gladly but nevertheless came somewhat reluctantly + to the shop. As they came along the street, past other houses, they smoked + a morning pipe. Groups were formed. Many legs straggled along the street. + At the door of the shop each man stopped. There was a sharp tapping sound. + Pipe bowls were knocked out against the door sill. Before he came into the + shop, each man looked out across the open country that stretched away to + the north. + </p> + <p> + For a week Hugh had been married to a woman who had not yet become his + wife. She belonged, still belonged, to a world he had thought of as + outside the possibilities of his life. Was she not young, strong, straight + of body? Did she not array herself in what seemed unbelievably beautiful + clothes? The clothes she wore were a symbol of herself. For him she was + unattainable. + </p> + <p> + And yet she had consented to become his wife, had stood with him before a + man who had said words about honor and obedience. + </p> + <p> + Then there had come the two terrible evenings—when he had gone back + to the farmhouse with her to find the wedding feast set in their honor, + and that other evening when old Tom had brought him to the farmhouse a + defeated, frightened man who hoped the woman would put out her hand, would + reassure him. + </p> + <p> + Hugh was sure he had missed the great opportunity of his life. He had + married, but his marriage was not a marriage. He had got himself into a + position from which there was no possibility of escaping. “I'm a coward,” + he thought, looking at the other workmen in the shop. They, like himself, + were married men and lived in a house with a woman. At night they went + boldly into the presence of the woman. He had not done that when the + opportunity offered, and Clara could not come to him. He could understand + that. His hands had builded a wall and the passing days were huge stones + put on top of the wall. What he had not done became every day a more and + more impossible thing to do. + </p> + <p> + Tom, having taken Hugh back to Clara, was still concerned over the outcome + of their adventure. Every day he came to the shop and in the evening came + to see them at the farmhouse. He hovered about, was like a mother bird + whose offspring had been prematurely pushed out of the nest. Every morning + he came into the shop to talk with Hugh. He made jokes about married life. + Winking at a man standing nearby he put his hand familiarly on Hugh's + shoulder. “Well, how does married life go? It seems to me you're a little + pale,” he said laughing. + </p> + <p> + In the evening he came to the farmhouse and sat talking of his affairs, of + the progress and growth of the town and his part in it. Without hearing + his words both Clara and Hugh sat in silence, pretending to listen, glad + of his presence. + </p> + <p> + Hugh came to the shop at eight. On other mornings, all through that long + week of waiting, Clara had driven him to his work, the two riding in + silence down Medina Road and through the crowded streets of the town; but + on that morning he had walked. + </p> + <p> + On Medina Road, near the bridge where he had once stood with Clara and + where he had seen her hot with anger, something had happened, a trivial + thing. A male bird pursued a female among the bushes beside the road. The + two feathered, living creatures, vividly colored, alive with life, pitched + and swooped through the air. They were like moving balls of light going in + and out of the dark green of foliage. There was in them a madness, a riot + of life. + </p> + <p> + Hugh had been tricked into stopping by the roadside. A tangle of things + that had filled his mind, the wheels, cogs, levers, all the intricate + parts of the hay-loading machine, the things that lived in his mind until + his hand had made them into facts, were blown away like dust. For a moment + he watched the living riotous things and then, as though jerking himself + back into a path from which his feet had wandered, hurried onward to the + shop, looking as he went not into the branches of trees, but downward at + the dust of the road. + </p> + <p> + In the shop Hugh tried all morning to refurnish the warehouse of his mind, + to put back into it the things blown so recklessly away. At ten Tom came + in, talked for a moment and then flitted away. “You are still there. My + daughter still has you. You have not run away again,” he seemed to be + saying to himself. + </p> + <p> + The day grew warm and the sky, seen through the shop window by the bench + where Hugh tried to work, was overcast with clouds. + </p> + <p> + At noon the workmen went away, but Clara, who on other days had come to + drive Hugh to the farmhouse for lunch, did not appear. When all was silent + in the shop he stopped work, washed his hands and put on his coat. + </p> + <p> + He went to the shop door and then came back to the bench. Before him lay + an iron wheel on which he had been at work. It was intended to drive some + intricate part of the hay-loading machine. Hugh took it in his hand and + carried it to the back of the shop where there was an anvil. Without + consciousness and scarcely realizing what he did he laid it on the anvil + and taking a great sledge in his hand swung it over his head. + </p> + <p> + The blow struck was terrific. Into it Hugh put all of his protest against + the grotesque position into which he had been thrown by his marriage to + Clara. + </p> + <p> + The blow accomplished nothing. The sledge descended and the comparatively + delicate metal wheel was twisted, knocked out of shape. It spurted from + under the head of the sledge and shot past Hugh's head and out through a + window, breaking a pane of glass. Fragments of the broken glass fell with + a sharp little tinkling sound upon a heap of twisted pieces of iron and + steel lying beside the anvil.... + </p> + <p> + Hugh did not eat lunch that day nor did he go to the farmhouse or return + to work at the shop. He walked, but this time did not walk in country + roads where male and female birds dart in and out of bushes. An intense + desire to know something intimate and personal concerning men and women + and the lives they led in their houses had taken possession of him. He + walked in the daylight up and down in the streets of Bidwell. + </p> + <p> + To the right, over the bridge leading out of Turner's Road, the main + street of Bidwell ran along a river bank. In that direction the hills out + of the country to the south came down to the river's edge and there was a + high bluff. On the bluff and back of it on a sloping hillside many of the + more pretentious new houses of the prosperous Bidwell citizens had been + built. Facing the river were the largest houses, with grounds in which + trees and shrubs had been planted and in the streets along the hill, less + and less pretentious as they receded from the river, were other houses + built and being built, long rows of houses, long streets of houses, houses + in brick, stone, and wood. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went from the river front back into this maze of streets and houses. + Some instinct led him there. It was where the men and women of Bidwell who + had prospered and had married went to live, to make themselves houses. His + father-in-law had offered to buy him a river front place and already that + meant much in Bidwell. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to see women who, like Clara, had got themselves husbands, what + they were like. “I've seen enough of men,” he thought half resentfully as + he went along. + </p> + <p> + All afternoon he walked in streets, going up and down before houses in + which women lived with their men. A detached mood had possession of him. + For an hour he stood under a tree idly watching workmen engaged in + building another house. When one of the workmen spoke to him he walked + away and went into a street where men were laying a cement pavement before + a completed house. + </p> + <p> + In a furtive way he kept looking about for women, hungering to see their + faces. “What are they up to? I'd like to find out,” his mind seemed to be + saying. + </p> + <p> + The women came out of the doors of the houses and passed him as he went + slowly along. Other women in carriages drove in the streets. They were + well-dressed women and seemed sure of themselves. “Things are all right + with me. For me things are settled and arranged,” they seemed to say. All + the streets in which he walked seemed to be telling the story of things + settled and arranged. The houses spoke of the same things. “I am a house. + I am not built until things are settled and arranged. I mean that,” they + said. + </p> + <p> + Hugh grew very tired. In the later afternoon a small bright-eyed woman—no + doubt she had been one of the guests at his wedding feast—stopped + him. “Are you planning to buy or build up our way, Mr. McVey?” she asked. + He shook his head. “I'm looking around,” he said and hurried away. + </p> + <p> + Anger took the place of perplexity in him. The women he saw in the streets + and in the doors of the houses were such women as his own woman Clara. + They had married men—“no better than myself,” he told himself, + growing bold. + </p> + <p> + They had married men and something had happened to them. Something was + settled. They could live in streets and in houses. Their marriages had + been real marriages and he had a right to a real marriage. It was not too + much to expect out of life. + </p> + <p> + “Clara has a right to that also,” he thought and his mind began to + idealize the marriages of men and women. “On every hand here I see them, + the neat, well-dressed, handsome women like Clara. How happy they are! + </p> + <p> + “Their feathers have been ruffled though,” he thought angrily. “It was + with them as with that bird I saw being pursued through the trees. There + has been pursuit and a pretense of trying to escape. There has been an + effort made that was not an effort, but feathers have been ruffled here.” + </p> + <p> + When his thoughts had driven him into a half desperate mood Hugh went out + of the streets of bright, ugly, freshly built, freshly painted and + furnished houses, and down into the town. Several men homeward bound at + the end of their day of work called to him. “I hope you are thinking of + buying or building up our way,” they said heartily. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + It began to rain and darkness came, but Hugh did not go home to Clara. It + did not seem to him that he could spend another night in the house with + her, lying awake, hearing the little noises of the night, waiting—for + courage. He could not sit under the lamp through another evening + pretending to read. He could not go with Clara up the stairs only to leave + her with a cold “good-night” at the top of the stairs. + </p> + <p> + Hugh went up the Medina Road almost to the house and then retraced his + steps and got into a field. There was a low swampy place in which the + water came up over his shoetops, and after he had crossed that there was a + field overgrown with a tangle of vines. The night became so dark that he + could see nothing and darkness reigned over his spirit. For hours he + walked blindly, but it did not occur to him that as he waited, hating the + waiting, Clara also waited; that for her also it was a time of trial and + uncertainty. To him it seemed her course was simple and easy. She was a + white pure thing—waiting—for what? for courage to come in to + him in order that an assault be made upon her whiteness and purity. + </p> + <p> + That was the only answer to the question Hugh could find within himself. + The destruction of what was white and pure was a necessary thing in life. + It was a thing men must do in order that life go on. As for women, they + must be white and pure—and wait. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Filled with inward resentment Hugh at last did go to the farmhouse. Wet + and with dragging, heavy feet he turned out of the Medina Road to find the + house dark and apparently deserted. + </p> + <p> + Then a new and puzzling situation arose. When he stepped over the + threshold and into the house he knew Clara was there. + </p> + <p> + On that day she had not driven him to work in the morning or gone for him + at noon hour because she did not want to look at him in the light of day, + did not want again to see the puzzled, frightened look in his eyes. She + had wanted him in the darkness alone, had waited for darkness. Now it was + dark in the house and she waited for him. + </p> + <p> + How simple it was! Hugh came into the living-room, stumbled forward into + the darkness, and found the hat-rack against the wall near the stairway + leading to the bedrooms above. Again he had surrendered what he would no + doubt have called the manhood in himself, and hoped only to be able to + escape the presence he felt in the room, to creep off upstairs to his bed, + to lie awake listening to noises, waiting miserably for another day to + come. But when he had put his dripping hat on one of the pegs of the rack + and had found the lower step with his foot thrust into darkness, a voice + called to him. + </p> + <p> + “Come here, Hugh,” Clara said softly and firmly, and like a boy caught + doing a forbidden act he went toward her. “We have been very silly, Hugh,” + he heard her voice saying softly. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Hugh went to where Clara sat in a chair by a window. From him there was no + protest and no attempt to escape the love-making that followed. For a + moment he stood in silence and could see her white figure below him in the + chair. It was like something still far away, but coming swiftly as a bird + flies to him—upward to him. Her hand crept up and lay in his hand. + It seemed unbelievably large. It was not soft, but hard and firm. When her + hand had rested in his for a moment she arose and stood beside him. Then + the hand went out of his and touched, caressed his wet coat, his wet hair, + his cheeks. “My flesh must be white and cold,” he thought, and then he did + not think any more. + </p> + <p> + Gladness took hold of him, a gladness that came up out of the inner parts + of himself as she had come up to him out of the chair. For days, weeks, he + had been thinking of his problem as a man's problem, his defeat had been a + man's defeat. + </p> + <p> + Now there was no defeat, no problem, no victory. In himself he did not + exist. Within himself something new had been born or another something + that had always lived with him had stirred to life. It was not awkward. It + was not afraid. It was a thing as swift and sure as the flight of the male + bird through the branches of trees and it was in pursuit of something + light and swift in her, something that would fly through light and + darkness but fly not too swiftly, something of which he need not be + afraid, something that without the need of understanding he could + understand as one understands the need of breath in a close place. + </p> + <p> + With a laugh as soft and sure as her own Hugh took Clara into his arms. A + few minutes later they went up stairs and twice Hugh stumbled on the + stairway. It did not matter. His long awkward body was a thing outside + himself. It might stumble and fall many times but the new thing he had + found, the thing inside himself that responded to the thing inside the + shell that was Clara his wife, did not stumble. It flew like a bird out of + darkness into the light. At the moment he thought the sweeping flight of + life thus begun would run on forever. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK SIX + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + It was a summer night in Ohio and the wheat in the long, flat fields that + stretched away to the north from the town of Bidwell was ripe for the + cutting. Between the wheat fields lay corn and cabbage fields. In the corn + fields the green stalks stood up like young trees. Facing the fields lay + the white roads, once the silent roads, hushed and empty through the + nights and often during many hours of the day, the night silence broken + only at long intervals by the clattering hoofs of homeward bound horses + and the silence of days by creaking wagons. Along the roads on a summer + evening went the young farm hand in his buggy for which he had spent a + summer's wage, a long summer of sweaty toil in hot fields. The hoofs of + his horse beat a soft tattoo on the roads. His sweetheart sat beside him + and he was in no hurry. All day he had been at work in the harvest and on + the morrow he would work again. It did not matter. For him the night would + last until the cocks in isolated farmyards began to hail the dawn. He + forgot the horse and did not care what turning he took. All roads led to + happiness for him. + </p> + <p> + Beside the long roads was an endless procession of fields broken now and + then by a strip of woodland, where the shadows of trees fell upon the + roads and made pools of an inky blackness. In the long, dry grass in fence + corners insects sang; in the young cabbage fields rabbits ran, flitting + away like shadows in the moonlight. The cabbage fields were beautiful too. + </p> + <p> + Who has written or sung of the beauties of corn fields in Illinois, + Indiana, Iowa, or of the vast Ohio cabbage fields? In the cabbage fields + the broad outer leaves fall down to make a background for the shifting, + delicate colors of soils. The leaves are themselves riotous with color. As + the season advances they change from light to dark greens, a thousand + shades of purples, blues and reds appear and disappear. + </p> + <p> + In silence the cabbage fields slept beside the roads in Ohio. Not yet had + the motor cars come to tear along the roads, their flashing lights—beautiful + too, when seen by one afoot on the roads on a summer night—had not + yet made the roads an extension of the cities. Akron, the terrible town, + had not yet begun to roll forth its countless millions of rubber hoops, + filled each with its portion of God's air compressed and in prison at last + like the farm hands who have gone to the cities. Detroit and Toledo had + not begun to send forth their hundreds of thousands of motor cars to + shriek and scream the nights away on country roads. Willis was still a + mechanic in an Indiana town, and Ford still worked in a bicycle repair + shop in Detroit. + </p> + <p> + It was a summer night in the Ohio country and the moon shone. A country + doctor's horse went at a humdrum pace along the roads. Softly and at long + intervals men afoot stumbled along. A farm hand whose horse was lame + walked toward town. An umbrella mender, benighted on the roads, hurried + toward the lights of the distant town. In Bidwell, the place that had been + on other summer nights a sleepy town filled with gossiping berry pickers, + things were astir. + </p> + <p> + Change, and the thing men call growth, was in the air. Perhaps in its own + way revolution was in the air, the silent, the real revolution that grew + with the growth of the towns. In the stirring, bustling town of Bidwell + that quiet summer night something happened that startled men. Something + happened, and then in a few minutes it happened again. Heads wagged, + special editions of daily newspapers were printed, the great hive of men + was disturbed, under the invisible roof of the town that had so suddenly + become a city, the seeds of self-consciousness were planted in new soil, + in American soil. + </p> + <p> + Before all this began, however, something else happened. The first motor + car ran through the streets of Bidwell and out upon the moonlit roads. The + motor car was driven by Tom Butterworth and in it sat his daughter Clara + with her husband Hugh McVey. During the week before, Tom had brought the + car from Cleveland, and the mechanic who rode with him had taught him the + art of driving. Now he drove alone and boldly. Early in the evening he had + run out to the farmhouse to take his daughter and son-in-law for their + first ride. Hugh sat in the seat beside him and after they had started and + were clear of the town, Tom turned to him. “Now watch me step on her + tail,” he said proudly, using for the first time the motor slang he had + picked up from the Cleveland mechanic. + </p> + <p> + As Tom sent the car hurling over the roads, Clara sat alone in the back + seat unimpressed by her father's new acquisition. For three years she had + been married and she felt that she did not yet know the man she had + married. Always the story had been the same, moments of light and then + darkness again. A new machine that went along roads at a startlingly + increased rate of speed might change the whole face of the world, as her + father declared it would, but it did not change certain facts of her life. + “Am I a failure as a wife, or is Hugh impossible as a husband?” she asked + herself for perhaps the thousandth time as the car, having got into a long + stretch of clear, straight road, seemed to leap and sail through the air + like a bird. “At any rate I have married me a husband and yet I have no + husband, I have been in a man's arms but I have no lover, I have taken + hold of life, but life has slipped through my fingers.” + </p> + <p> + Like her father, Hugh seemed to Clara absorbed in only the things outside + himself, the outer crust of life. He was like and yet unlike her father. + She was baffled by him. There was something in the man she wanted and + could not find. “The fault must be in me,” she told herself. “He's all + right, but what's the matter with me?” + </p> + <p> + After that night when he ran away from her bridal bed, Clara had more than + once thought the miracle had happened. It did sometimes. On that night + when he came to her out of the rain it had happened. There was a wall a + blow could shatter, and she raised her hand to strike the blow. The wall + was shattered and then builded itself again. Even as she lay at night in + her husband's arms the wall reared itself up in the darkness of the + sleeping room. + </p> + <p> + Over the farmhouse on such nights dense silence brooded and she and Hugh, + as had become their habit together, were silent. In the darkness she put + up her hand to touch her husband's face and hair. He lay still and she had + the impression of some great force holding him back, holding her back. A + sharp sense of struggle filled the room. The air was heavy with it. + </p> + <p> + When words came they did not break the silence. The wall remained. + </p> + <p> + The words that came were empty, meaningless words. Hugh suddenly broke + forth into speech. He spoke of his work at the shop and of his progress + toward the solution of some difficult, mechanical problem. If it were + evening when the thing happened the two people got out of the lighted + house where they had been sitting together, each feeling darkness would + help the effort they were both making to tear away the wall. They walked + along a lane, past the barns and over the little wooden bridge across the + stream that ran down through the barnyard. Hugh did not want to talk of + the work at the shop, but could find words for no other talk. They came to + a fence where the lane turned and from where they could look down the + hillside and into the town. He did not look at Clara but stared down the + hillside and the words, in regard to the mechanical difficulties that had + occupied his mind all day, ran on and on. When later they went back to the + house he felt a little relieved. “I've said words. There is something + achieved,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + And now after the three years as a married woman Clara sat in the motor + with her father and husband and with them was sent whirling swiftly + through the summer night. The car ran down the hill road from the + Butterworth farm, through a dozen residence streets in town and then out + upon the long, straight roads in the rich, flat country to the north. It + had skirted the town as a hungry wolf might have encircled silently and + swiftly the fire-lit camp of a hunter. To Clara the machine seemed like a + wolf, bold and cunning and yet afraid. Its great nose pushed through the + troubled air of the quiet roads, frightening horses, breaking the silence + with its persistent purring, drowning the song of insects. The headlights + also disturbed the slumbers of the night. They flashed into barnyards + where fowls slept on the lower branches of trees, played on the sides of + barns sent the cattle in fields galloping away into darkness, and + frightened horribly the wild things, the red squirrels and chipmunks that + live in wayside fences in the Ohio country. Clara hated the machine and + began to hate all machines. Thinking of machinery and the making of + machines had, she decided, been at the bottom of her husband's inability + to talk with her. Revolt against the whole mechanical impulse of her + generation began to take possession of her. + </p> + <p> + And as she rode another and more terrible kind of revolt against the + machine began in the town of Bidwell. It began in fact before Tom with his + new motor left the Butterworth farm, it began before the summer moon came + up, before the gray mantle of night had been laid over the shoulders of + the hills south of the farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + Jim Gibson, the journeyman harness maker who worked in Joe Wainsworth's + shop, was beside himself on that night. He had just won a great victory + over his employer and felt like celebrating. For several days he had been + telling the story of his anticipated victory in the saloons and store, and + now it had happened. After dining at his boarding-house he went to a + saloon and had a drink. Then he went to other saloons and had other + drinks, after which he swaggered through the streets to the door of the + shop. Although he was in his nature a spiritual bully, Jim did not lack + energy, and his employer's shop was filled with work demanding attention. + For a week both he and Joe had been returning to their work benches every + evening. Jim wanted to come because some driving influence within made him + love the thought of keeping the work always on the move, and Joe because + Jim made him come. + </p> + <p> + Many things were on the move in the striving, hustling town on that + evening. The system of checking on piece work, introduced by the + superintendent Ed Hall in the corn-cutting machine plant, had brought on + Bidwell's first industrial strike. The discontented workmen were not + organized, and the strike was foredoomed to failure, but it had stirred + the town deeply. One day, a week before, quite suddenly some fifty or + sixty men had decided to quit. “We won't work for a fellow like Ed Hall,” + they declared. “He sets a scale of prices and then, when we have driven + ourselves to the limit to make a decent day's pay, he cuts the scale.” + Leaving the shop the men went in a body to Main Street and two or three of + them, developing unexpected eloquence, began delivering speeches on street + corners. On the next day the strike spread and for several days the shop + had been closed. Then a labor organizer came from Cleveland and on the day + of his arrival the story ran through the street that strike breakers were + to be brought in. + </p> + <p> + And on that evening of many adventures another element was introduced into + the already disturbed life of the community. At the corner of Main and + McKinley Streets and just beyond the place where three old buildings were + being torn down to make room for the building of a new hotel, appeared a + man who climbed upon a box and attacked, not the piece work prices at the + corn-cutting machine plant, but the whole system that built and maintained + factories where the wage scale of the workmen could be fixed by the whim + or necessity of one man or a group of men. As the man on the box talked, + the workmen in the crowd who were of American birth began to shake their + heads. They went to one side and gathering in groups discussed the + stranger's words. “I tell you what,” said a little old workman, pulling + nervously at his graying mustache, “I'm on strike and I'm for sticking out + until Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth fire Ed Hall, but I don't like this + kind of talk. I'll tell you what that man's doing. He's attacking our + Government, that's what he's doing.” The workmen went off to their homes + grumbling. The Government was to them a sacred thing, and they did not + fancy having their demands for a better wage scale confused by the talk of + anarchists and socialists. Many of the laborers of Bidwell were sons and + grandsons of pioneers who had opened up the country where the great + sprawling towns were now growing into cities. They or their fathers had + fought in the great Civil War. During boyhood they had breathed a + reverence for government out of the very air of the towns. The great men + of whom the school-books talked had all been connected with the + Government. In Ohio there had been Garfield, Sherman, McPherson the + fighter and others. From Illinois had come Lincoln and Grant. For a time + the very ground of the mid-American country had seemed to spurt forth + great men as now it was spurting forth gas and oil. Government had + justified itself in the men it had produced. + </p> + <p> + And now there had come among them men who had no reverence for government. + What a speaker for the first time dared say openly on the streets of + Bidwell, had already been talked in the shops. The new men, the foreigners + coming from many lands, had brought with them strange doctrines. They + began to make acquaintances among the American workmen. “Well,” they said, + “you've had great men here; no doubt you have; but you're getting a new + kind of great men now. These new men are not born out of people. They're + being born out of capital. What is a great man? He's one who has the + power. Isn't that a fact? Well, you fellows here have got to find out that + nowadays power comes with the possession of money. Who are the big men of + this town?—not some lawyer or politician who can make a good speech, + but the men who own the factories where you have to work. Your Steve + Hunter and Tom Butterworth are the great men of this town.” + </p> + <p> + The socialist, who had come to speak on the streets of Bidwell, was a + Swede, and his wife had come with him. As he talked his wife made figures + on a blackboard. The old story of the trick by which the citizens of the + town had lost their money in the plant-setting machine company was revived + and told over and over. The Swede, a big man with heavy fists, spoke of + the prominent citizens of the town as thieves who by a trick had robbed + their fellows. As he stood on the box beside his wife, and raising his + fists shouted crude sentences condemning the capitalist class, men who had + gone away angry came back to listen. The speaker declared himself a + workman like themselves and, unlike the religious salvationists who + occasionally spoke on the streets, did not beg for money. “I'm a workman + like yourselves,” he shouted. “Both my wife and myself work until we've + saved a little money. Then we come out to some town like this and fight + capital until we're busted. We've been fighting for years now and we'll + keep on fighting as long as we live.” + </p> + <p> + As the orator shouted out his sentences he raised his fist as though to + strike, and looked not unlike one of his ancestors, the Norsemen, who in + old times had sailed far and wide over unknown seas in search of the + fighting they loved. The men of Bidwell began to respect him. “After all, + what he says sounds like mighty good sense,” they declared, shaking their + heads. “Maybe Ed Hall isn't any worse than any one else. We got to break + up the system. That's a fact. Some of these days we got to break up the + system.” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + Jim Gibson got to the door of Joe's shop at half-past seven o'clock. + Several men stood on the sidewalk and he stopped and stood before them, + intending to tell again the story of his triumph over his employer. Inside + the shop Joe was already at his bench and at work. The men, two of them + strikers from the corn-cutting machine plant, complained bitterly of the + difficulty of supporting their families, and a third man, a fellow with a + big black mustache who smoked a pipe, began to repeat some of the axioms + in regard to industrialism and the class war he had picked up from the + socialist orator. Jim listened for a moment and then, turning, put his + thumb on his buttocks and wriggled his fingers. “Oh, hell,” he sneered, + “what are you fools talking about? You're going to get up a union or get + into the socialist party. What're you talking about? A union or a party + can't help a man who can't look out for himself.” + </p> + <p> + The blustering and half intoxicated harness maker stood in the open shop + door and told again and in detail the story of his triumph over his + employer. Then another thought came and he spoke of the twelve hundred + dollars Joe had lost in the stock, of the plant-setting machine company. + “He lost his money and you fellows are going to get licked in this fight,” + he declared. “You're all wrong, you fellows, when you talk about unions or + joining the socialist party. What counts is what a man can do for himself. + Character counts. Yes, sir, character makes a man what he is.” + </p> + <p> + Jim pounded on his chest and glared about him. + </p> + <p> + “Look at me,” he said. “I was a drunkard and down and out when I came to + this town; a drunkard, that's what I was and that's what I am. I came here + to this shop to work, and now, if you want to know, ask any one in town + who runs this place. The socialist says money is power. Well, there's a + man inside here who has the money, but you bet I've got the power.” + </p> + <p> + Slapping his knees with his hands Jim laughed heartily. A week before, a + traveling man had come to the shop to sell machine-made harness. Joe had + ordered the man out and Jim had called him back. He had placed an order + for eighteen sets of the harness and had made Joe sign the order. The + harness had arrived that afternoon and was now hung in the shop. “It's + hanging in the shop now,” Jim cried. “Go see for yourself.” + </p> + <p> + Triumphantly Jim walked up and down before the men on the sidewalk, and + his voice rang through the shop where Joe sat on his harness-maker's horse + under a swinging lamp hard at work. “I tell you, character's the thing + that counts,” the roaring voice cried. “You see I'm a workingman like you + fellows, but I don't join a union or a socialist party. I get my way. My + boss Joe in there's a sentimental old fool, that's what he is. All his + life he's made harnesses by hand and he thinks that's the only way. He + claims he has pride in his work, that's what he claims.” + </p> + <p> + Jim laughed again. “Do you know what he did the other day when that + traveler had gone out of the shop and after I had made him sign that + order?” he asked. “Cried, that's what he did. By God, he did,—sat + there and cried.” + </p> + <p> + Again Jim laughed, but the workmen on the sidewalk did not join in his + merriment. Going to one of them, the one who had declared his intention of + joining the union, Jim began to berate him. “You think you can lick Ed + Hall with Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth back of him, eh?” he asked + sharply. “Well, I'll tell you what—you can't. All the unions in the + world won't help you. You'll get licked—for why? + </p> + <p> + “For why? Because Ed Hall is like me, that's for why. He's got character, + that's what he's got.” + </p> + <p> + Growing weary of his boasting and the silence of his audience, Jim started + to walk in at the door, but when one of the workmen, a pale man of fifty + with a graying mustache, spoke, he turned to listen. “You're a suck, a + suck and a lickspittle, that's what you are,” said the pale man, his voice + trembling with passion. + </p> + <p> + Jim ran through the crowd of men and knocked the speaker to the sidewalk with + a blow of his fist. Two of the other workmen seemed about to take up the + cause of their fallen brother, but when in spite of their threats Jim + stood his ground, they hesitated. They went to help the pale workman to + his feet, and Jim went into the shop and closed the door. Climbing onto + his horse he went to work, and the men went off along the sidewalk, still + threatening to do what they had not done when the opportunity offered. + </p> + <p> + Joe worked in silence beside his employee and night began to settle down + over the disturbed town. Above the clatter of many voices in the street + outside could be heard the loud voice of the socialist orator who had + taken up his stand for the evening at a nearby corner. When it had become + quite dark outside, the old harness maker climbed down from his horse and + going to the front door opened it softly and looked up and down the + street. Then he closed it again and walked toward the rear of the shop. In + his hand he held his harness-maker's knife, shaped like a half moon and + with an extraordinarily sharp circular edge. The harness maker's wife had + died during the year before and since that time he had not slept well at + night. Often for a week at a time he did not sleep at all, but lay all + night with wide-open eyes, thinking strange, new thoughts. In the daytime + and when Jim was not about, he sometimes spent hours sharpening the + moon-shaped knife on a piece of leather; and on the day after the incident + of the placing of the order for the factory-made harness he had gone into + a hardware store and bought a cheap revolver. He had been sharpening the + knife as Jim talked to the workmen outside. When Jim began to tell the + story of his humiliation he had stopped sewing at the broken harness in + his vise and, getting up, had taken the knife from its hiding-place under + a pile of leather on a bench to give its edge a few last caressing + strokes. + </p> + <p> + Holding the knife in his hand Joe went with shambling steps toward the + place where Jim sat absorbed in his work. A brooding silence seemed to lie + over the shop and even outside in the street all noises suddenly ceased. + Old Joe's gait changed. As he passed behind the horse on which Jim sat, + life came into his figure and he walked with a soft, cat-like tread. Joy + shone in his eyes. As though warned of something impending, Jim turned and + opened his mouth to growl at his employer, but his words never found their + way to his lips. The old man made a peculiar half step, half leap past the + horse, and the knife whipped through the air. At one stroke he had + succeeded in practically severing Jim Gibson's head from his body. + </p> + <p> + There was no sound in the shop. Joe threw the knife into a corner and ran + quickly past the horse where the body of Jim Gibson sat upright. Then the + body fell to the floor with a thump and there was the sharp rattle of + heels on the board floor. The old man locked the front door and listened + impatiently. When all was again quiet he went to search for the knife he + had thrown away, but could not find it. Taking Jim's knife from a bench + under the hanging lamp, he stepped over the body and climbed upon his + horse to turn out the lights. + </p> + <p> + For an hour Joe stayed in the shop with the dead man. The eighteen sets of + harness shipped from a Cleveland factory had been received that morning, + and Jim had insisted they be unpacked and hung on hooks along the shop + walls. He had bullied Joe into helping hang the harnesses, and now Joe + took them down alone. One by one they were laid on the floor and with + Jim's knife the old man cut each strap into little pieces that made a pile + of litter on the floor reaching to his waist. When that was done he went + again to the rear of the shop, again stepping almost carelessly over the + dead man, and took the revolver out of the pocket of an overcoat that hung + by the door. + </p> + <p> + Joe went out of the shop by the back door, and having locked it carefully, + crept through an alleyway and into the lighted street where people walked + up and down. The next place to his own was a barber shop, and as he + hurried along the sidewalk, two young men came out and called to him. + “Hey,” they called, “do you believe in factory-made harness now-days, Joe + Wainsworth? Hey, what do you say? Do you sell factory-made harness?” + </p> + <p> + Joe did not answer, but stepping off the sidewalk, walked in the road. A + group of Italian laborers passed, talking rapidly and making gestures with + their hands. As he went more deeply into the heart of the growing city, + past the socialist orator and a labor organizer who was addressing a crowd + of men on another corner, his step became cat-like as it had been in the + moment before the knife flashed at the throat of Jim Gibson. The crowds of + people frightened him. He imagined himself set upon by a crowd and hanged + to a lamp-post. The voice of the labor orator arose above the murmur of + voices in the street. “We've got to take power into our hands. We've got + to carry on our own battle for power,” the voice declared. + </p> + <p> + The harness maker turned a corner into a quiet street, his hand caressing + affectionately the revolver in the side pocket of his coat. He intended to + kill himself, but had not wanted to die in the same room with Jim Gibson. + In his own way he had always been a very sensitive man and his only fear + was that rough hands fall upon him before he had completed the evening's + work. He was quite sure that had his wife been alive she would have + understood what had happened. She had always understood everything he did + or said. He remembered his courtship. His wife had been a country girl and + on Sundays, after their marriage, they had gone together to spend the day + in the wood. After Joe had brought his wife to Bidwell they continued the + practice. One of his customers, a well-to-do farmer, lived five miles + north of town, and on his farm there was a grove of beech trees. Almost + every Sunday for several years he got a horse from the livery stable and + took his wife there. After dinner at the farmhouse, he and the farmer + gossiped for an hour, while the women washed the dishes, and then he took + his wife and went into the beech forest. No underbrush grew under the + spreading branches of the trees, and when the two people had remained + silent for a time, hundreds of squirrels and chipmunks came to chatter and + play about them. Joe had brought nuts in his pocket and threw them about. + The quivering little animals drew near and then with a flip of their tails + scampered away. One day a boy from a neighboring farm came to the wood and + shot one of the squirrels. It happened just as Joe and his wife came from + the farmhouse and he saw the wounded squirrel hang from the branch of a + tree, and then fall. It lay at his feet and his wife grew ill and leaned + against him for support. He said nothing, but stared at the quivering + thing on the ground. When it lay still the boy came and picked it up. + Still Joe said nothing. Taking his wife's arm he walked to where they were + in the habit of sitting, and reached in his pocket for the nuts to scatter + on the ground. The farm boy, who had felt the reproach in the eyes of the + man and woman, had gone out of the wood. Suddenly Joe began to cry. He was + ashamed and did not want his wife to see, and she pretended she had not + seen. + </p> + <p> + On the night when he had killed Jim, Joe decided he would walk to the farm + and the beech forest and there kill himself. He hurried past a long row of + dark stores and warehouses in the newly built section of town and came to + a residence street. He saw a man coming toward him and stepped into the + stairway of a store building. The man stopped under a street lamp to light + a cigar, and the harness maker recognized him. It was Steve Hunter, who + had induced him to invest the twelve hundred dollars in the stock of the + plant-setting machine company, the man who had brought the new times to + Bidwell, the man who was at the bottom of all such innovations as + machine-made harnesses. Joe had killed his employee, Jim Gibson, in cold + anger, but now a new kind of anger took possession of him. Something + danced before his eyes and his hands trembled so that he was afraid the + gun he had taken out of his pocket would fall to the sidewalk. It wavered + as he raised it and fired, but chance came to his assistance. Steve Hunter + pitched forward to the sidewalk. + </p> + <p> + Without stopping to pick up the revolver that had fallen out of his hand, + Joe now ran up a stairway and got into a dark, empty hall. He felt his way + along a wall and came presently to another stairway, leading down. It + brought him into an alleyway, and going along this he came out near the + bridge that led over the river and into what in the old days had been + Turner's Pike, the road out which he had driven with his wife to the farm + and the beech forest. + </p> + <p> + But one thing now puzzled Joe Wainsworth. He had lost his revolver and did + not know how he was to manage his own death. “I must do it some way,” he + thought, when at last, after nearly three hours steady plodding and hiding + in fields to avoid the teams going along the road he got to the beech + forest. He went to sit under a tree near the place where he had so often + sat through quiet Sunday afternoons with his wife beside him. “I'll rest a + little and then I'll think how I can do it,” he thought wearily, holding + his head in his hands. “I mustn't go to sleep. If they find me they'll + hurt me. They'll hurt me before I have a chance to kill myself. They'll + hurt me before I have a chance to kill myself,” he repeated, over and + over, holding his head in his hands and rocking gently back and forth. + </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 XXII + </h2> + <p> + The car driven by Tom Butterworth stopped at a town, and Tom got out to + fill his pockets with cigars and incidentally to enjoy the wonder and + admiration of the citizens. He was in an exalted mood and words flowed + from him. As the motor under its hood purred, so the brain under the + graying old head purred and threw forth words. He talked to the idlers + before the drug stores in the towns and, when the car started again and + they were out in the open country, his voice, pitched in a high key to + make itself heard above the purring engine, became shrill. Having struck + the shrill tone of the new age the voice went on and on. + </p> + <p> + But the voice and the swift-moving car did not stir Clara. She tried not + to hear the voice, and fixing her eyes on the soft landscape flowing past + under the moon, tried to think of other times and places. She thought of + nights when she had walked with Kate Chanceller through the streets of + Columbus, and of the silent ride she had taken with Hugh that night they + were married. Her mind went back into her childhood and she remembered the + long days she had spent riding with her father in this same valley, going + from farm to farm to haggle and dicker for the purchase of calves and + pigs. Her father had not talked then but sometimes, when they had driven + far and were homeward bound in the failing light of evening, words did + come to him. She remembered one evening in the summer after her mother + died and when her father often took her with him on his drives. They had + stopped for the evening meal at the house of a farmer and when they got on + the road again, the moon came out. Something present in the spirit of the + night stirred Tom, and he spoke of his life as a boy in the new country + and of his fathers and brothers. “We worked hard, Clara,” he said. “The + whole country was new and every acre we planted had to be cleared.” The + mind of the prosperous farmer fell into a reminiscent mood and he spoke of + little things concerning his life as a boy and young man; the days of + cutting wood alone in the silent, white forest when winter came and it was + time for getting out firewood and logs for new farm buildings, the log + rollings to which neighboring farmers came, when great piles of logs were + made and set afire that space might be cleared for planting. In the winter + the boy went to school in the village of Bidwell and as he was even then + an energetic, pushing youth, already intent on getting on in the world, he + set traps in the forest and on the banks of streams and walked the trap + line on his way to and from school. In the spring he sent his pelts to the + growing town of Cleveland where they were sold. He spoke of the money he + got and of how he had finally saved enough to buy a horse of his own. + </p> + <p> + Tom had talked of many other things on that night, of the spelling-downs + at the schoolhouse in town, of huskings and dances held in the barns and + of the evening when he went skating on the river and first met his wife. + “We took to each other at once,” he said softly. “There was a fire built + on the bank of the river and after I had skated with her we went and sat + down to warm ourselves. + </p> + <p> + “We wanted to get married to each other right away,” he told Clara. “I + walked home with her after we got tired of skating, and after that I + thought of nothing but how to get my own farm and have a home of my own.” + </p> + <p> + As the daughter sat in the motor listening to the shrill voice of the + father, who now talked only of the making of machines and money, that + other man talking softly in the moonlight as the horse jogged slowly along + the dark road seemed very far away. All such men seemed very far away. + “Everything worth while is very far away,” she thought bitterly. “The + machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far from the + old sweet things.” + </p> + <p> + The motor flew along the roads and Tom thought of his old longing to own + and drive fast racing horses. “I used to be half crazy to own fast + horses,” he shouted to his son-in-law. “I didn't do it, because owning + fast horses meant a waste of money, but it was in my mind all the time. I + wanted to go fast: faster than any one else.” In a kind of ecstasy he gave + the motor more gas and shot the speed up to fifty miles an hour. The hot, + summer air, fanned into a violent wind, whistled past his head. “Where + would the damned race horses be now,” he called, “where would your Maud S. + or your J.I.C. be, trying to catch up with me in this car?” + </p> + <p> + Yellow wheat fields and fields of young corn, tall now and in the light + breeze that was blowing whispering in the moonlight, flashed past, looking + like squares on a checker board made for the amusement of the child of + some giant. The car ran through miles of the low farming country, through + the main streets of towns, where the people ran out of the stores to stand + on the sidewalks and look at the new wonder, through sleeping bits of + woodlands—remnants of the great forests in which Tom had worked as a + boy—and across wooden bridges over small streams, beside which grew + tangled masses of elderberries, now yellow and fragrant with blossoms. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o'clock having already achieved some ninety miles Tom turned the + car back. Running more sedately he again talked of the mechanical triumphs + of the age in which he had lived. “I've brought you whizzing along, you + and Clara,” he said proudly. “I tell you what, Hugh, Steve Hunter and I + have brought you along fast in more ways that one. You've got to give + Steve credit for seeing something in you, and you've got to give me credit + for putting my money back of your brains. I don't want to take no credit + from Steve. There's credit enough for all. All I got to say for myself is + that I saw the hole in the doughnut. Yes, sir, I wasn't so blind. I saw + the hole in the doughnut.” + </p> + <p> + Tom stopped to light a cigar and then drove on again. “I'll tell you what, + Hugh,” he said, “I wouldn't say so to any one not of my family, but the + truth is, I'm the man that's been putting over the big things there in + Bidwell. The town is going to be a city now and a mighty big city. Towns + in this State like Columbus, Toledo and Dayton, had better look out for + themselves. I'm the man has always kept Steve Hunter steady and going + straight ahead down the track, as this car goes with my hand at the + steering wheel. + </p> + <p> + “You don't know anything about it, and I don't want you should talk, but + there are new things coming to Bidwell,” he added. “When I was in Chicago + last month I met a man who has been making rubber buggy and bicycle tires. + I'm going in with him and we're going to start a plant for making + automobile-tires right in Bidwell. The tire business is bound to be one of + the greatest on earth and they ain't no reason why Bidwell shouldn't be + the biggest tire center ever known in the world.” Although the car now ran + quietly, Tom's voice again became shrill. “There'll be hundreds of + thousands of cars like this tearing over every road in America,” he + declared. “Yes, sir, they will; and if I calculate right Bidwell'll be the + great tire town of the world.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time Tom drove in silence, and when he again began to talk it + was a new mood. He told a tale of life in Bidwell that stirred both Hugh + and Clara deeply. He was angry and had Clara not been in the car would + have become violently profane. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to hang the men who are making trouble in the shops in town,” he + broke forth. “You know who I mean, I mean the labor men who are trying to + make trouble for Steve Hunter and me. There's a socialist talking every + night on the street over there. I'll tell you, Hugh, the laws of this + country are wrong.” For ten minutes he talked of the labor difficulties in + the shops. + </p> + <p> + “They better look out,” he declared, and was so angry that his voice rose + to something like a suppressed scream. “We're inventing new machines + pretty fast now-days,” he cried. “Pretty soon we'll do all the work by + machines. Then what'll we do? We'll kick all the workers out and let 'em + strike till they're sick, that's what we'll do. They can talk their fool + socialism all they want, but we'll show 'em, the fools.” + </p> + <p> + His angry mood passed, and as the car turned into the last fifteen-mile + stretch of road that led to Bidwell, he told the tale that so deeply + stirred his passengers. Chuckling softly he told of the struggle of the + Bidwell harness maker, Joe Wainsworth, to prevent the sale of machine-made + harness in the community, and of his experience with his employee, Jim + Gibson. Tom had heard the tale in the bar-room of the Bidwell House and it + had made a profound impression on his mind. “I'll tell you what,” he + declared, “I'm going to get in touch with Jim Gibson. That's the kind of + man to handle workers. I only heard about him to-night, but I'm going to + see him to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Leaning back in his seat Tom laughed heartily as he told of the traveling + man who had visited Joe Wainsworth's shop and the placing of the order for + the factory-made harness. In some intangible way he felt that when Jim + Gibson laid the order for the harness on the bench in the shop and by the + force of his personality compelled Joe Wainsworth to sign, he justified + all such men as himself. In imagination he lived in that moment with Jim, + and like Jim the incident aroused his inclination to boast. “Why, a lot of + cheap laboring skates can't down such men as myself any more than Joe + Wainsworth could down that Jim Gibson,” he declared. “They ain't got the + character, you see, that's what the matter, they ain't got the character.” + Tom touched some mechanism connected with the engine of the car and it + shot suddenly forward. “Suppose one of them labor leaders were standing in + the road there,” he cried. Instinctively Hugh leaned forward and peered + into the darkness through which the lights of the car cut like a great + scythe, and on the back seat Clara half rose to her feet. Tom shouted with + delight and as the car plunged along the road his voice rose in triumph. + “The damn fools!” he cried. “They think they can stop the machines. Let + 'em try. They want to go on in their old hand-made way. Let 'em look out. + Let 'em look out for such men as Jim Gibson and me.” + </p> + <p> + Down a slight incline in the road shot the car and swept around a wide + curve, and then the jumping, dancing light, running far ahead, revealed a + sight that made Tom thrust out his foot and jam on the brakes. + </p> + <p> + In the road and in the very center of the circle of light, as though + performing a scene on the stage, three men were struggling. As the car + came to a stop, so sudden that it pitched both Clara and Hugh out of their + seats, the struggle came to an end. One of the struggling figures, a small + man without coat or hat, had jerked himself away from the others and + started to run toward the fence at the side of the road and separating it + from a grove of trees. A large, broad-shouldered man sprang forward and + catching the tail of the fleeing man's coat pulled him back into the + circle of light. His fist shot out and caught the small man directly on + the mouth. He fell like a dead thing, face downward in the dust of the + road. + </p> + <p> + Tom ran the car slowly forward and its headlight continued to play over + the three figures. From a little pocket at the side of his driver's seat + he took a revolver. He ran the car quickly to a position near the group in + the road and stopped. + </p> + <p> + “What's up?” he asked sharply. + </p> + <p> + Ed Hall the factory superintendent, the man who had struck the blow that + had felled the little man, stepped forward and explained the tragic + happenings of the evening in town. The factory superintendent had + remembered that as a boy he had once worked for a few weeks on the farm of + which the wood beside the road was a part, and that on Sunday afternoons + the harness maker had come to the farm with his wife and the two people + had gone to walk in the very place where he had just been found. “I had a + hunch he would be out here,” he boasted. “I figured it out. Crowds started + out of town in all directions, but I cut out alone. Then I happened to see + this fellow and just for company I brought him along.” He put up his hand + and, looking at Tom, tapped his forehead. “Cracked,” he declared, “he + always was. A fellow I knew saw him once in that woods,” he said pointing. + “Somebody had shot a squirrel and he took on about it as though he had + lost a child. I said then he was crazy, and he has sure proved I was + right.” + </p> + <p> + At a word from her father Clara went to sit on the front seat on Hugh's + knees. Her body trembled and she was cold with fear. As her father had + told the story of Jim Gibson's triumph over Joe Wainsworth she had wanted + passionately to kill that blustering fellow. Now the thing was done. In + her mind the harness maker had come to stand for all the men and women in + the world who were in secret revolt against the absorption of the age in + machines and the products of machines. He had stood as a protesting figure + against what her father had become and what she thought her husband had + become. She had wanted Jim Gibson killed and it had been done. As a child + she had gone often to Wainsworth's shop with her father or some farm hand, + and she now remembered sharply the peace and quiet of the place. At the + thought of the same place, now become the scene of a desperate killing, + her body shook so that she clutched at Hugh's arms, striving to steady + herself. + </p> + <p> + Ed Hall took the senseless figure of the old man in the road into his arms + and half threw it into the back seat of the car. To Clara it was as though + his rough, misunderstanding hands were on her own body. The car started + swiftly along the road and Ed told again the story of the night's + happenings. “I tell you, Mr. Hunter is in mighty bad shape, he may die,” + he said. Clara turned to look at her husband and thought him totally + unaffected by what had happened. His face was quiet like her father's + face. The factory superintendent's voice went on explaining his part in + the adventures of the evening. Ignoring the pale workman who sat lost in + the shadows in a corner of the rear seat, he spoke as though he had + undertaken and accomplished the capture of the murderer single-handed. As + he afterwards explained to his wife, Ed felt he had been a fool not to + come alone. “I knew I could handle him all right,” he explained. “I wasn't + afraid, but I had figured it all out he was crazy. That made me feel + shaky. When they were getting up a crowd to go out on the hunt, I says to + myself, I'll go alone. I says to myself, I'll bet he's gone out to that + woods on the Riggly farm where he and his wife used to go on Sundays. I + started and then I saw this other man standing on a corner and I made him + come with me. He didn't want to come and I wish I'd gone alone. I could + have handled him and I'd got all the credit.” + </p> + <p> + In the car Ed told the story of the night in the streets of Bidwell. Some + one had seen Steve Hunter shot down in the street and had declared the + harness maker had done it and had then run away. A crowd had gone to the + harness shop and had found the body of Jim Gibson. On the floor of the + shop were the factory-made harnesses cut into bits. “He must have been in + there and at work for an hour or two, stayed right in there with the man + he had killed. It's the craziest thing any man ever done.” + </p> + <p> + The harness maker, lying on the floor of the car where Ed had thrown him, + stirred and sat up. Clara turned to look at him and shivered. His shirt + was torn so that the thin, old neck and shoulders could be plainly seen in + the uncertain light, and his face was covered with blood that had dried + and was now black with dust. Ed Hall went on with the tale of his triumph. + “I found him where I said to myself I would. Yes, sir, I found him where I + said to myself I would.” + </p> + <p> + The car came to the first of the houses of the town, long rows of cheaply + built frame houses standing in what had once been Ezra French's cabbage + patch, where Hugh had crawled on the ground in the moonlight, working out + the mechanical problems that confronted him in the building of his + plant-setting machine. Suddenly the distraught and frightened man crouched + on the floor of the car, raised himself on his hands and lurched forward, + trying to spring over the side. Ed Hall caught him by the arm and jerked + him back. He drew back his arm to strike again but Clara's voice, cold and + intense with passion, stopped him. “If you touch him, I'll kill you,” she + said. “No matter what he does, don't you dare strike him again.” + </p> + <p> + Tom drove the car slowly through the streets of Bidwell to the door of a + police station. Word of the return of the murderer had run ahead, and a + crowd had gathered. Although it was past two o'clock the lights still + burned in stores and saloons, and crowds stood at every corner. With the + aid of a policeman, Ed Hall, with one eye fixed cautiously on the front + seat where Clara sat, started to lead Joe Wainsworth away. “Come on now, + we won't hurt you,” he said reassuringly, and had got his man free of the + car when he broke away. Springing back into the rear seat the crazed man + turned to look at the crowd. A sob broke from his lips. For a moment he + stood trembling with fright, and then turning, he for the first time saw + Hugh, the man in whose footsteps he had once crept in the darkness in + Turner's Pike, the man who had invented the machine by which the earnings + of a lifetime had been swept away. “It wasn't me. You did it. You killed + Jim Gibson,” he screamed, and springing forward sank his fingers and teeth + into Hugh's neck. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + One day in the month of October, four years after the time of his first + motor ride with Clara and Tom, Hugh went on a business trip to the city of + Pittsburgh. He left Bidwell in the morning and got to the steel city at + noon. At three o'clock his business was finished and he was ready to + return. + </p> + <p> + Although he had not yet realized it, Hugh's career as a successful + inventor had received a sharp check. The trick of driving directly at the + point, of becoming utterly absorbed in the thing before him, had been + lost. He went to Pittsburgh to see about the casting of new parts for the + hay-loading machine, but what he did in Pittsburgh was of no importance to + the men who would manufacture and sell that worthy, labor-saving tool. + Although he did not know it, a young man from Cleveland, in the employ of + Tom and Steve, had already done what Hugh was striving half-heartedly to + do. The machine had been finished and ready to market in October three + years before, and after repeated tests a lawyer had made formal + application for patent. Then it was discovered that an Iowa man had + already made application for and been granted a patent on a similar + apparatus. + </p> + <p> + When Tom came to the shop and told him what had happened Hugh had been + ready to drop the whole matter, but that was not Tom's notion. “The + devil!” he said. “Do you think we're going to waste all this money and + labor?” + </p> + <p> + Drawings of the Iowa man's machine were secured, and Tom set Hugh at the + task of doing what he called “getting round” the other fellow's patents. + “Do the best you can and we'll go ahead,” he said. “You see we've got the + money and that means power. Make what changes you can and then we'll go on + with our manufacturing plans. We'll whipsaw this other fellow through the + courts. We'll fight him till he's sick of fight and then we'll buy him out + cheap. I've had the fellow looked up and he hasn't any money and is a + boozer besides. You go ahead. We'll get that fellow all right.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh had tried valiantly to go along the road marked out for him by his + father-in-law and had put aside other plans to rebuild the machine he had + thought of as completed and out of the way. He made new parts, changed + other parts, studied the drawings of the Iowa man's machine, did what he + could to accomplish his task. + </p> + <p> + Nothing happened. A conscientious determination not to infringe on the + work of the Iowa man stood in his way. + </p> + <p> + Then something did happen. At night as he sat alone in his shop after a + long study of the drawings of the other man's machine, he put them aside + and sat staring into the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by his + lamp. He forgot the machine and thought of the unknown inventor, the man + far away over forests, lakes and rivers, who for months had worked on the + same problem that had occupied his mind. Tom had said the man had no money + and was a boozer. He could be defeated, bought cheap. He was himself at + work on the instrument of the man's defeat. + </p> + <p> + Hugh left his shop and went for a walk, and the problem connected with the + twisting of the iron and steel parts of the hay-loading apparatus into new + forms was again left unsolved. The Iowa man had become a distinct, almost + understandable personality to Hugh. Tom had said he drank, got drunk. His + own father had been a drunkard. Once a man, the very man who had been the + instrument of his own coming to Bidwell, had taken it for granted he was a + drunkard. He wondered if some twist of life might not have made him one. + </p> + <p> + Thinking of the Iowa man, Hugh began to think of other men. He thought of + his father and of himself. When he was striving to come out of the filth, + the flies, the poverty, the fishy smells, the shadowy dreams of his life + by the river, his father had often tried to draw him back into that life. + In imagination he saw before him the dissolute man who had bred him. On + afternoons of summer days in the river town, when Henry Shepard was not + about, his father sometimes came to the station where he was employed. He + had begun to earn a little money and his father wanted it to buy drinks. + Why? + </p> + <p> + There was a problem for Hugh's mind, a problem that could not be solved in + wood and steel. He walked and thought about it when he should have been + making new parts for the hay-loading apparatus. He had lived but little in + the life of the imagination, had been afraid to live that life, had been + warned and re-warned against living it. The shadowy figure of the unknown + inventor in the state of Iowa, who had been brother to himself, who had + worked on the same problems and had come to the same conclusions, slipped + away, followed by the almost equally shadowy figure of his father. Hugh + tried to think of himself and his own life. + </p> + <p> + For a time that seemed a simple and easy way out of the new and intricate + task he had set for his mind. His own life was a matter of history. He + knew about himself. Having walked far out of town, he turned and went back + toward his shop. His way led through the new city that had grown up since + his coming to Bidwell. Turner's Pike that had been a country road along + which on summer evenings lovers strolled to the Wheeling station and + Pickleville was now a street. All that section of the new city was given + over to workers' homes and here and there a store had been built. The + Widow McCoy's place was gone and in its place was a warehouse, black and + silent under the night sky. How grim the street in the late night! The + berry pickers who once went along the road at evening were now gone + forever. Like Ezra French's sons they had perhaps become factory hands. + Apple and cherry trees once grew along the road. They had dropped their + blossoms on the heads of strolling lovers. They also were gone. Hugh had + once crept along the road at the heels of Ed Hall, who walked with his arm + about a girl's waist. He had heard Ed complaining of his lot in life and + crying out for new times. It was Ed Hall who had introduced the piecework + plan in the factories of Bidwell and brought about the strike, during + which three men had been killed and ill-feeling engendered in hundreds of + silent workers. That strike had been won by Tom and Steve and they had + since that time been victorious in a larger and more serious strike. Ed + Hall was now at the head of a new factory being built along the Wheeling + tracks. He was growing fat and was prosperous. + </p> + <p> + When Hugh got to his shop he lighted his lamp and again got out the + drawings he had come from home to study. They lay unnoticed on the desk. + He looked at his watch. It was two o'clock. “Clara may be awake. I must go + home,” he thought vaguely. He now owned his own motor car and it stood in + the road before the shop. Getting in he drove away into the darkness over + the bridge, out of Turner's Pike and along a street lined with factories + and railroad sidings. Some of the factories were working and were ablaze + with lights. Through lighted windows he could see men stationed along + benches and bending over huge, iron machines. He had come from home that + evening to study the work of an unknown man from the far away state of + Iowa, to try to circumvent that man. Then he had gone to walk and to think + of himself and his own life. “The evening has been wasted. I have done + nothing,” he thought gloomily as his car climbed up a long street lined + with the homes of the wealthier citizens of his town and turned into the + short stretch of Medina Road still left between the town and the + Butterworth farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + On the day when he went to Pittsburgh, Hugh got to the station where he + was to take the homeward train at three, and the train did not leave until + four. He went into a big waiting-room and sat on a bench in a corner. + After a time he arose and going to a stand bought a newspaper, but did not + read it. It lay unopened on the bench beside him. The station was filled + with men, women, and children who moved restlessly about. A train came in + and a swarm of people departed, were carried into faraway parts of the + country, while new people came into the station from a nearby street. He + looked at those who were going out into the train shed. “It may be that + some of them are going to that town in Iowa where that fellow lives,” he + thought. It was odd how thoughts of the unknown Iowa man clung to him. + </p> + <p> + One day, during the same summer and but a few months earlier, Hugh had + gone to the town of Sandusky, Ohio, on the same mission that had brought + him to Pittsburgh. How many parts for the hay-loading machine had been + cast and later thrown away! They did the work, but he decided each time + that he had infringed on the other man's machine. When that happened he + did not consult Tom. Something within him warned him against doing that. + He destroyed the part. “It wasn't what I wanted,” he told Tom who had + grown discouraged with his son-in-law but did not openly voice his + dissatisfaction. “Oh, well, he's lost his pep, marriage has taken the life + out of him. We'll have to get some one else on the job,” he said to Steve, + who had entirely recovered from the wound received at the hands of Joe + Wainsworth. + </p> + <p> + On that day when he went to Sandusky, Hugh had several hours to wait for + his homebound train and went to walk by the shores of a bay. Some brightly + colored stones attracted his attention and he picked several of them up + and put them in his pockets. In the station at Pittsburgh he took them out + and held them in his hand. A light came in at a window, a long, slanting + light that played over the stones. His roving, disturbed mind was caught + and held. He rolled the stones back and forth. The colors blended and then + separated again. When he raised his eyes, a woman and a child on a nearby + bench, also attracted by the flashing bit of color held like a flame in + his hand, were looking at him intently. + </p> + <p> + He was confused and walked out of the station into the street. “What a + silly fellow I have become, playing with colored stones like a child,” he + thought, but at the same time put the stones carefully into his pockets. + </p> + <p> + Ever since that night when he had been attacked in the motor, the sense of + some indefinable, inner struggle had been going on in Hugh, as it went on + that day in the station at Pittsburgh and on the night in the shop, when + he found himself unable to fix his attention on the prints of the Iowa + man's machine. Unconsciously and quite without intent he had come into a + new level of thought and action. He had been an unconscious worker, a doer + and was now becoming something else. The time of the comparatively simple + struggle with definite things, with iron and steel, had passed. He fought + to accept himself, to understand himself, to relate himself with the life + about him. The poor white, son of the defeated dreamer by the river, who + had forced himself in advance of his fellows along the road of mechanical + development, was still in advance of his fellows of the growing Ohio + towns. The struggle he was making was the struggle his fellows of another + generation would one and all have to make. + </p> + <p> + Hugh got into his home-bound train at four o'clock and went into the + smoking car. The somewhat distorted and twisted fragment of thoughts that + had all day been playing through his mind stayed with him. “What + difference does it make if the new parts I have ordered for the machine + have to be thrown away?” he thought. “If I never complete the machine, + it's all right. The one the Iowa man had made does the work.” + </p> + <p> + For a long time he struggled with that thought. Tom, Steve, all the + Bidwell men with whom he had been associated, had a philosophy into which + the thought did not fit. “When you put your hand to the plow do not turn + back,” they said. Their language was full of such sayings. To attempt to + do a thing and fail was the great crime, the sin against the Holy Ghost. + There was unconscious defiance of a whole civilization in Hugh's attitude + toward the completion of the parts that would help Tom and his business + associates “get around” the Iowa man's patent. + </p> + <p> + The train from Pittsburgh went through northern Ohio to a junction where + Hugh would get another train for Bidwell. Great booming towns, Youngstown, + Akron, Canton, Massillon—manufacturing towns all—lay along the + way. In the smoker Hugh sat, again playing with the colored stones held in + his hand. There was relief for his mind in the stones. The light + continually played about them, and their color shifted and changed. One + could look at the stones and get relief from thoughts. Raising his eyes he + looked out of the car window. The train was passing through Youngstown. + His eyes looked along grimy streets of worker's houses clustered closely + about huge mills. The same light that had played over the stones in his + hand began to play over his mind, and for a moment he became not an + inventor but a poet. The revolution within had really begun. A new + declaration of independence wrote itself within him. “The gods have thrown + the towns like stones over the flat country, but the stones have no color. + They do not burn and change in the light,” he thought. + </p> + <p> + Two men who sat in a seat in the westward bound train began to talk, and + Hugh listened. One of them had a son in college. “I want him to be a + mechanical engineer,” he said. “If he doesn't do that I'll get him started + in business. It's a mechanical age and a business age. I want to see him + succeed. I want him to keep in the spirit of the times.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh's train was due in Bidwell at ten, but did not arrive until half + after eleven. He walked from the station through the town toward the + Butterworth farm. + </p> + <p> + At the end of their first year of marriage a daughter had been born to + Clara, and some time before his trip to Pittsburgh she had told him she + was again pregnant. “She may be sitting up. I must get home,” he thought, + but when he got to the bridge near the farmhouse, the bridge on which he + had stood beside Clara that first time they were together, he got out of + the road and went to sit on a fallen log at the edge of a grove of trees. + </p> + <p> + “How quiet and peaceful the night!” he thought and leaning forward held + his long, troubled face in his hands. He wondered why peace and quiet + would not come to him, why life would not let him alone. “After all, I've + lived a simple life and have done good work,” he thought. “Some of the + things they've said about me are true enough. I've invented machines that + save useless labor, I've lightened men's labor.” + </p> + <p> + Hugh tried to cling to that thought, but it would not stay in his mind. + All the thoughts that gave his mind peace and quiet flew away like birds + seen on a distant horizon at evening. It had been so ever since that night + when he was suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by the crazed harness maker + in the motor. Before that his mind had often been unsettled, but he knew + what he wanted. He wanted men and women and close association with men and + women. Often his problem was yet more simple. He wanted a woman, one who + would love him and lie close to him at night. He wanted the respect of his + fellows in the town where he had come to live his life. He wanted to + succeed at the particular task to which he had set his hand. + </p> + <p> + The attack made upon him by the insane harness maker had at first seemed + to settle all his problems. At the moment when the frightened and + desperate man sank his teeth and fingers into Hugh's neck, something had + happened to Clara. It was Clara who, with a strength and quickness quite + amazing, had torn the insane man away. All through that evening she had + been hating her husband and father, and then suddenly she loved Hugh. The + seeds of a child were already alive in her, and when the body of her man + was furiously attacked, he became also her child. Swiftly, like the + passing of a shadow over the surface of a river on a windy day, the change + in her attitude toward her husband took place. All that evening she had + been hating the new age she had thought so perfectly personified in the + two men, who talked of the making of machines while the beauty of the + night was whirled away into the darkness with the cloud of dust thrown + into the air by the flying motor. She had been hating Hugh and + sympathizing with the dead past he and other men like him were destroying, + the past that was represented by the figure of the old harness maker who + wanted to do his work by hand in the old way, by the man who had aroused + the scorn and derision of her father. + </p> + <p> + And then the past rose up to strike. It struck with claws and teeth, and + the claws and teeth sank into Hugh's flesh, into the flesh of the man + whose seed was already alive within her. + </p> + <p> + At that moment the woman who had been a thinker stopped thinking. Within + her arose the mother, fierce, indomitable, strong with the strength of the + roots of a tree. To her then and forever after Hugh was no hero, remaking + the world, but a perplexed boy hurt by life. He never again escaped out of + boyhood in her consciousness of him. With the strength of a tigress she + tore the crazed harness maker away from Hugh, and with something of the + surface brutality of another Ed Hall, threw him to the floor of the car. + When Ed and the policeman, assisted by several bystanders, came running + forward, she waited almost indifferently while they forced the screaming + and kicking man through the crowd and in at the door of the police + station. + </p> + <p> + For Clara the thing for which she had hungered had, she thought, happened. + In quick, sharp tones she ordered her father to drive the car to a + doctor's house and later stood by while the torn and lacerated flesh of + Hugh's cheek and neck was bandaged. The thing for which Joe Wainsworth + stood and that she had thought was so precious to herself no longer + existed in her consciousness, and if later she was for some weeks nervous + and half ill, it was not because of any thought given to the fate of the + old harness maker. + </p> + <p> + The sudden attack out of the town's past had brought Hugh to Clara, had + made him a living if not quite satisfying companion to her, but it had + brought something quite different to Hugh. The bite of the man's teeth and + the torn places on his cheeks left by the tense fingers had mended, + leaving but a slight scar; but a virus had got into his veins. The disease + of thinking had upset the harness maker's mind and the germ of that + disease had got into Hugh's blood. It had worked up into his eyes and + ears. Words men dropped thoughtlessly and that in the past had been blown + past his ears, as chaff is blown from wheat in the harvest, now stayed to + echo and re-echo in his mind. In the past he had seen towns and factories + grow and had accepted without question men's word that growth was + invariably good. Now his eyes looked at the towns, at Bidwell, Akron, + Youngstown, and all the great, new towns scattered up and down mid-western + America as on the train and in the station at Pittsburgh he had looked at + the colored stones held in his hand. He looked at the towns and wanted + light and color to play over them as they played over the stones, and when + that did not happen, his mind, filled with strange new hungers engendered + by the disease of thinking, made up words over which lights played. “The + gods have scattered towns over the flat lands,” his mind had said, as he + sat in the smoking car of the train, and the phrase came back to him + later, as he sat in the darkness on the log with his head held in his + hands. It was a good phrase and lights could play over it as they played + over the colored stones, but it would in no way answer the problem of how + to “get around” the Iowa's man patent on the hay loading device. + </p> + <p> + Hugh did not get to the Butterworth farmhouse until two o'clock in the + morning, but when he got there his wife was awake and waiting for him. She + heard his heavy, dragging footsteps in the road as he turned in at the + farm gate, and getting quickly out of bed, threw a cloak over her + shoulders and came out to the porch facing the barns. A late moon had come + up and the barnyard was washed with moonlight. From the barns came the + low, sweet sound of contented animals nibbling at the hay in the mangers + before them, from a row of sheds back of one of the barns came the soft + bleating of sheep and in a far away field a calf bellowed loudly and was + answered by its mother. + </p> + <p> + When Hugh stepped into the moonlight around the corner of the house, Clara + ran down the steps to meet him, and taking his arm, led him past the barns + and over the bridge where as a child she had seen the figures of her fancy + advancing towards her. Sensing his troubled state her mother spirit was + aroused. He was unfilled by the life he led. She understood that. It was + so with her. By a lane they went to a fence where nothing but open fields + lay between the farm and the town far below. Although she sensed his + troubled state, Clara was not thinking of Hugh's trip to Pittsburgh nor of + the problems connected with the completion of the hay-loading machine. It + may be that like her father she had dismissed from her mind all thoughts + of him as one who would continue to help solve the mechanical problems of + his age. Thoughts of his continued success had never meant much to her, + but during the evening something had happened to Clara and she wanted to + tell him about it, to take him into the joy of it. Their first child had + been a girl and she was sure the next would be a man child. “I felt him + to-night,” she said, when they had got to the place by the fence and saw + below the lights of the town. “I felt him to-night,” she said again, “and + oh, he was strong! He kicked like anything. I am sure this time it's a + boy.” + </p> + <p> + For perhaps ten minutes Clara and Hugh stood by the fence. The disease of + thinking that was making Hugh useless for the work of his age had swept + away many old things within him and he was not self-conscious in the + presence of his woman. When she told him of the struggle of the man of + another generation, striving to be born he put his arm about her and held + her close against his long body. For a time they stood in silence, and + then started to return to the house and sleep. As they went past the barns + and the bunkhouse where several men now slept they heard, as though coming + out of the past, the loud snoring of the rapidly ageing farm hand, Jim + Priest, and then above that sound and above the sound of the animals + stirring in the barns arose another sound, a sound shrill and intense, + greetings perhaps to an unborn Hugh McVey. For some reason, perhaps to + announce a shift in crews, the factories of Bidwell that were engaged in + night work set up a great whistling and screaming. The sound ran up the + hillside and rang in the ears of Hugh as, with his arm about Clara's + shoulders, he went up the steps and in at the farmhouse door. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poor White, by Sherwood Anderson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + +***** This file should be named 7414-h.htm or 7414-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/1/7414/ + + +Text file produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + +HTML file produced by David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Poor White + +Author: Sherwood Anderson + + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7414] +This file was first posted on April 26, 2003 +Last Updated: July 5, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + + + + + + + + POOR WHITE + + + A NOVEL BY + + SHERWOOD ANDERSON + + AUTHOR OF + + WINESBURG, OHIO + + + + + + TO + + TENNESSEE MITCHELL ANDERSON + + + +[Note: The evident misprint of Book Six for Book Five in the original is +preserved here.] + + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Hugh McVey was born in a little hole of a town stuck on a mud bank on +the western shore of the Mississippi River in the State of Missouri. +It was a miserable place in which to be born. With the exception of a +narrow strip of black mud along the river, the land for ten miles back +from the town--called in derision by river men "Mudcat Landing"--was +almost entirely worthless and unproductive. The soil, yellow, shallow +and stony, was tilled, in Hugh's time, by a race of long gaunt men who +seemed as exhausted and no-account as the land on which they lived. They +were chronically discouraged, and the merchants and artisans of the +town were in the same state. The merchants, who ran their stores--poor +tumble-down ramshackle affairs--on the credit system, could not get pay +for the goods they handed out over their counters and the artisans, the +shoemakers, carpenters and harnessmakers, could not get pay for the work +they did. Only the town's two saloons prospered. The saloon keepers sold +their wares for cash and, as the men of the town and the farmers who +drove into town felt that without drink life was unbearable, cash always +could be found for the purpose of getting drunk. + +Hugh McVey's father, John McVey, had been a farm hand in his youth +but before Hugh was born had moved into town to find employment in a +tannery. The tannery ran for a year or two and then failed, but John +McVey stayed in town. He also became a drunkard. It was the easy obvious +thing for him to do. During the time of his employment in the tannery he +had been married and his son had been born. Then his wife died and the +idle workman took his child and went to live in a tiny fishing shack +by the river. How the boy lived through the next few years no one ever +knew. John McVey loitered in the streets and on the river bank and +only awakened out of his habitual stupor when, driven by hunger or the +craving for drink, he went for a day's work in some farmer's field at +harvest time or joined a number of other idlers for an adventurous trip +down river on a lumber raft. The baby was left shut up in the shack by +the river or carried about wrapped in a soiled blanket. Soon after he +was old enough to walk he was compelled to find work in order that he +might eat. The boy of ten went listlessly about town at the heels of his +father. The two found work, which the boy did while the man lay sleeping +in the sun. They cleaned cisterns, swept out stores and saloons and at +night went with a wheelbarrow and a box to remove and dump in the river +the contents of out-houses. At fourteen Hugh was as tall as his father +and almost without education. He could read a little and could write his +own name, had picked up these accomplishments from other boys who came +to fish with him in the river, but he had never been to school. For days +sometimes he did nothing but lie half asleep in the shade of a bush on +the river bank. The fish he caught on his more industrious days he sold +for a few cents to some housewife, and thus got money to buy food for +his big growing indolent body. Like an animal that has come to its +maturity he turned away from his father, not because of resentment for +his hard youth, but because he thought it time to begin to go his own +way. + +In his fourteenth year and when the boy was on the point of sinking into +the sort of animal-like stupor in which his father had lived, something +happened to him. A railroad pushed its way down along the river to his +town and he got a job as man of all work for the station master. He +swept out the station, put trunks on trains, mowed the grass in the +station yard and helped in a hundred odd ways the man who held the +combined jobs of ticket seller, baggage master and telegraph operator at +the little out-of-the-way place. + +Hugh began a little to awaken. He lived with his employer, Henry +Shepard, and his wife, Sarah Shepard, and for the first time in his life +sat down regularly at table. His life, lying on the river bank through +long summer afternoons or sitting perfectly still for endless hours in +a boat, had bred in him a dreamy detached outlook on life. He found it +hard to be definite and to do definite things, but for all his stupidity +the boy had a great store of patience, a heritage perhaps from his +mother. In his new place the station master's wife, Sarah Shepard, a +sharp-tongued, good-natured woman, who hated the town and the people +among whom fate had thrown her, scolded at him all day long. She treated +him like a child of six, told him how to sit at table, how to hold his +fork when he ate, how to address people who came to the house or to +the station. The mother in her was aroused by Hugh's helplessness and, +having no children of her own, she began to take the tall awkward boy +to her heart. She was a small woman and when she stood in the house +scolding the great stupid boy who stared down at her with his small +perplexed eyes, the two made a picture that afforded endless amusement +to her husband, a short fat bald-headed man who went about clad in blue +overalls and a blue cotton shirt. Coming to the back door of his house, +that was within a stone's throw of the station, Henry Shepard stood with +his hand on the door-jamb and watched the woman and the boy. Above the +scolding voice of the woman his own voice arose. "Look out, Hugh," he +called. "Be on the jump, lad! Perk yourself up. She'll be biting you if +you don't go mighty careful in there." + +Hugh got little money for his work at the railroad station but for the +first time in his life he began to fare well. Henry Shepard bought +the boy clothes, and his wife, Sarah, who was a master of the art of +cooking, loaded the table with good things to eat. Hugh ate until both +the man and woman declared he would burst if he did not stop. Then when +they were not looking he went into the station yard and crawling under +a bush went to sleep. The station master came to look for him. He cut a +switch from the bush and began to beat the boy's bare feet. Hugh awoke +and was overcome with confusion. He got to his feet and stood trembling, +half afraid he was to be driven away from his new home. The man and the +confused blushing boy confronted each other for a moment and then the +man adopted the method of his wife and began to scold. He was annoyed at +what he thought the boy's indolence and found a hundred little tasks +for him to do. He devoted himself to finding tasks for Hugh, and when he +could think of no new ones, invented them. "We will have to keep the big +lazy fellow on the jump. That's the secret of things," he said to his +wife. + +The boy learned to keep his naturally indolent body moving and his +clouded sleepy mind fixed on definite things. For hours he plodded +straight ahead, doing over and over some appointed task. He forgot the +purpose of the job he had been given to do and did it because it was +a job and would keep him awake. One morning he was told to sweep the +station platform and as his employer had gone away without giving him +additional tasks and as he was afraid that if he sat down he would fall +into the odd detached kind of stupor in which he had spent so large +a part of his life, he continued to sweep for two or three hours. The +station platform was built of rough boards and Hugh's arms were very +powerful. The broom he was using began to go to pieces. Bits of it flew +about and after an hour's work the platform looked more uncleanly than +when he began. Sarah Shepard came to the door of her house and stood +watching. She was about to call to him and to scold him again for his +stupidity when a new impulse came to her. She saw the serious determined +look on the boy's long gaunt face and a flash of understanding came to +her. Tears came into her eyes and her arms ached to take the great boy +and hold him tightly against her breast. With all her mother's soul she +wanted to protect Hugh from a world she was sure would treat him always +as a beast of burden and would take no account of what she thought of +as the handicap of his birth. Her morning's work was done and without +saying anything to Hugh, who continued to go up and down the platform +laboriously sweeping, she went out at the front door of the house and +to one of the town stores. There she bought a half dozen books, a +geography, an arithmetic, a speller and two or three readers. She +had made up her mind to become Hugh McVey's school teacher and with +characteristic energy did not put the matter off, but went about it +at once. When she got back to her house and saw the boy still going +doggedly up and down the platform, she did not scold but spoke to him +with a new gentleness in her manner. "Well, my boy, you may put the +broom away now and come to the house," she suggested. "I've made up my +mind to take you for my own boy and I don't want to be ashamed of you. +If you're going to live with me I can't have you growing up to be a lazy +good-for-nothing like your father and the other men in this hole of a +place. You'll have to learn things and I suppose I'll have to be your +teacher. + +"Come on over to the house at once," she added sharply, making a quick +motion with her hand to the boy who with the broom in his hands stood +stupidly staring. "When a job is to be done there's no use putting it +off. It's going to be hard work to make an educated man of you, but it +has to be done. We might as well begin on your lessons at once." + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived with Henry Shepard and his wife until he became a grown +man. After Sarah Shepard became his school teacher things began to go +better for him. The scolding of the New England woman, that had but +accentuated his awkwardness and stupidity, came to an end and life in +his adopted home became so quiet and peaceful that the boy thought of +himself as one who had come into a kind of paradise. For a time the two +older people talked of sending him to the town school, but the woman +objected. She had begun to feel so close to Hugh that he seemed a part +of her own flesh and blood and the thought of him, so huge and ungainly, +sitting in a school room with the children of the town, annoyed and +irritated her. In imagination she saw him being laughed at by other boys +and could not bear the thought. She did not like the people of the town +and did not want Hugh to associate with them. + +Sarah Shepard had come from a people and a country quite different in +its aspect from that in which she now lived. Her own people, frugal New +Englanders, had come West in the year after the Civil War to take up +cut-over timber land in the southern end of the state of Michigan. +The daughter was a grown girl when her father and mother took up the +westward journey, and after they arrived at the new home, had worked +with her father in the fields. The land was covered with huge stumps +and was difficult to farm but the New Englanders were accustomed to +difficulties and were not discouraged. The land was deep and rich and +the people who had settled upon it were poor but hopeful. They felt +that every day of hard work done in clearing the land was like laying +up treasure against the future. In New England they had fought against +a hard climate and had managed to find a living on stony unproductive +soil. The milder climate and the rich deep soil of Michigan was, they +felt, full of promise. Sarah's father like most of his neighbors had +gone into debt for his land and for tools with which to clear and work +it and every year spent most of his earnings in paying interest on a +mortgage held by a banker in a nearby town, but that did not discourage +him. He whistled as he went about his work and spoke often of a future +of ease and plenty. "In a few years and when the land is cleared we'll +make money hand over fist," he declared. + +When Sarah grew into young womanhood and went about among the young +people in the new country, she heard much talk of mortgages and of +the difficulty of making ends meet, but every one spoke of the hard +conditions as temporary. In every mind the future was bright with +promise. Throughout the whole Mid-American country, in Ohio, Northern +Indiana and Illinois, Wisconsin and Iowa a hopeful spirit prevailed. +In every breast hope fought a successful war with poverty and +discouragement. Optimism got into the blood of the children and later +led to the same kind of hopeful courageous development of the whole +western country. The sons and daughters of these hardy people no doubt +had their minds too steadily fixed on the problem of the paying off of +mortgages and getting on in the world, but there was courage in them. If +they, with the frugal and sometimes niggardly New Englanders from whom +they were sprung, have given modern American life a too material +flavor, they have at least created a land in which a less determinedly +materialistic people may in their turn live in comfort. + +In the midst of the little hopeless community of beaten men and yellow +defeated women on the bank of the Mississippi River, the woman who had +become Hugh McVey's second mother and in whose veins flowed the blood +of the pioneers, felt herself undefeated and unbeatable. She and her +husband would, she felt, stay in the Missouri town for a while and then +move on to a larger town and a better position in life. They would +move on and up until the little fat man was a railroad president or a +millionaire. It was the way things were done. She had no doubt of the +future. "Do everything well," she said to her husband, who was perfectly +satisfied with his position in life and had no exalted notions as to his +future. "Remember to make your reports out neatly and clearly. Show them +you can do perfectly the task given you to do, and you will be given +a chance at a larger task. Some day when you least expect it something +will happen. You will be called up into a position of power. We won't be +compelled to stay in this hole of a place very long." + +The ambitious energetic little woman, who had taken the son of the +indolent farm hand to her heart, constantly talked to him of her own +people. Every afternoon when her housework was done she took the boy +into the front room of the house and spent hours laboring with him over +his lessons. She worked upon the problem of rooting the stupidity and +dullness out of his mind as her father had worked at the problem of +rooting the stumps out of the Michigan land. After the lesson for the +day had been gone over and over until Hugh was in a stupor of mental +weariness, she put the books aside and talked to him. With glowing +fervor she made for him a picture of her own youth and the people and +places where she had lived. In the picture she represented the New +Englanders of the Michigan farming community as a strong god-like race, +always honest, always frugal, and always pushing ahead. His own people +she utterly condemned. She pitied him for the blood in his veins. The +boy had then and all his life certain physical difficulties she could +never understand. The blood did not flow freely through his long body. +His feet and hands were always cold and there was for him an almost +sensual satisfaction to be had from just lying perfectly still in the +station yard and letting the hot sun beat down on him. + +Sarah Shepard looked upon what she called Hugh's laziness as a thing of +the spirit. "You have got to get over it," she declared. "Look at your +own people--poor white trash--how lazy and shiftless they are. You can't +be like them. It's a sin to be so dreamy and worthless." + +Swept along by the energetic spirit of the woman, Hugh fought to +overcome his inclination to give himself up to vaporous dreams. He +became convinced that his own people were really of inferior stock, that +they were to be kept away from and not to be taken into account. During +the first year after he came to live with the Shepards, he sometimes +gave way to a desire to return to his old lazy life with his father in +the shack by the river. People got off steamboats at the town and took +the train to other towns lying back from the river. He earned a little +money by carrying trunks filled with clothes or traveling men's samples +up an incline from the steamboat landing to the railroad station. Even +at fourteen the strength in his long gaunt body was so great that he +could out-lift any man in town, and he put one of the trunks on his +shoulder and walked slowly and stolidly away with it as a farm horse +might have walked along a country road with a boy of six perched on his +back. + +The money earned in this way Hugh for a time gave to his father, and +when the man had become stupid with drink he grew quarrelsome and +demanded that the boy return to live with him. Hugh had not the spirit +to refuse and sometimes did not want to refuse. When neither the station +master nor his wife was about he slipped away and went with his father +to sit for a half day with his back against the wall of the fishing +shack, his soul at peace. In the sunlight he sat and stretched forth his +long legs. His small sleepy eyes stared out over the river. A delicious +feeling crept over him and for the moment he thought of himself as +completely happy and made up his mind that he did not want to return +again to the railroad station and to the woman who was so determined to +arouse him and make of him a man of her own people. + +Hugh looked at his father asleep and snoring in the long grass on the +river bank. An odd feeling of disloyalty crept over him and he became +uncomfortable. The man's mouth was open and he snored lustily. From his +greasy and threadbare clothing arose the smell of fish. Flies gathered +in swarms and alighted on his face. Disgust took possession of Hugh. +A flickering but ever recurring light came into his eyes. With all the +strength of his awakening soul he struggled against the desire to give +way to the inclination to stretch himself out beside the man and sleep. +The words of the New England woman, who was, he knew, striving to lift +him out of slothfulness and ugliness into some brighter and better way +of life, echoed dimly in his mind. When he arose and went back along the +street to the station master's house and when the woman there looked at +him reproachfully and muttered words about the poor white trash of the +town, he was ashamed and looked at the floor. + +Hugh began to hate his own father and his own people. He connected +the man who had bred him with the dreaded inclination toward sloth in +himself. When the farmhand came to the station and demanded the money +he had earned by carrying trunks, he turned away and went across a +dusty road to the Shepard's house. After a year or two he paid no more +attention to the dissolute farmhand who came occasionally to the station +to mutter and swear at him; and, when he had earned a little money, gave +it to the woman to keep for him. "Well," he said, speaking slowly and +with the hesitating drawl characteristic of his people, "if you give me +time I'll learn. I want to be what you want me to be. If you stick to me +I'll try to make a man of myself." + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived in the Missouri town under the tutelage of Sarah +Shepard until he was nineteen years old. Then the station master gave up +railroading and went back to Michigan. Sarah Shepard's father had died +after having cleared one hundred and twenty acres of the cut-over timber +land and it had been left to her. The dream that had for years lurked +in the back of the little woman's mind and in which she saw bald-headed, +good-natured Henry Shepard become a power in the railroad world had +begun to fade. In newspapers and magazines she read constantly of other +men who, starting from a humble position in the railroad service, soon +became rich and powerful, but nothing of the kind seemed likely to +happen to her husband. Under her watchful eye he did his work well and +carefully but nothing came of it. Officials of the railroad sometimes +passed through the town riding in private cars hitched to the end of one +of the through trains, but the trains did not stop and the officials +did not alight and, calling Henry out of the station, reward his +faithfulness by piling new responsibilities upon him, as railroad +officials did in such cases in the stories she read. When her father +died and she saw a chance to again turn her face eastward and to live +again among her own people, she told her husband to resign his position +with the air of one accepting an undeserved defeat. The station master +managed to get Hugh appointed in his place, and the two people went +away one gray morning in October, leaving the tall ungainly young man in +charge of affairs. He had books to keep, freight waybills to make out, +messages to receive, dozens of definite things to do. Early in the +morning before the train that was to take her away, came to the station, +Sarah Shepard called the young man to her and repeated the instructions +she had so often given her husband. "Do everything neatly and +carefully," she said. "Show yourself worthy of the trust that has been +given you." + +The New England woman wanted to assure the boy, as she had so often +assured her husband, that if he would but work hard and faithfully +promotion would inevitably come; but in the face of the fact that Henry +Shepard had for years done without criticism the work Hugh was to do and +had received neither praise nor blame from those above him, she found +it impossible to say the words that arose to her lips. The woman and +the son of the people among whom she had lived for five years and had +so often condemned, stood beside each other in embarrassed silence. +Stripped of her assurance as to the purpose of life and unable to repeat +her accustomed formula, Sarah Shepard had nothing to say. Hugh's tall +figure, leaning against the post that supported the roof of the front +porch of the little house where she had taught him his lessons day after +day, seemed to her suddenly old and she thought his long solemn face +suggested a wisdom older and more mature than her own. An odd revulsion +of feeling swept over her. For the moment she began to doubt the +advisability of trying to be smart and to get on in life. If Hugh had +been somewhat smaller of frame so that her mind could have taken hold of +the fact of his youth and immaturity, she would no doubt have taken +him into her arms and said words regarding her doubts. Instead she +also became silent and the minutes slipped away as the two people stood +before each other and stared at the floor of the porch. When the train +on which she was to leave blew a warning whistle, and Henry Shepard +called to her from the station platform, she put a hand on the lapel of +Hugh's coat and drawing his face down, for the first time kissed him on +the cheek. Tears came into her eyes and into the eyes of the young man. +When he stepped across the porch to get her bag Hugh stumbled awkwardly +against a chair. "Well, you do the best you can here," Sarah Shepard +said quickly and then out of long habit and half unconsciously did +repeat her formula. "Do little things well and big opportunities are +bound to come," she declared as she walked briskly along beside Hugh +across the narrow road and to the station and the train that was to bear +her away. + +After the departure of Sarah and Henry Shepard Hugh continued to +struggle with his inclination to give way to dreams. It seemed to him a +struggle it was necessary to win in order that he might show his respect +and appreciation of the woman who had spent so many long hours laboring +with him. Although, under her tutelage, he had received a better +education than any other young man of the river town, he had lost none +of his physical desire to sit in the sun and do nothing. When he worked, +every task had to be consciously carried on from minute to minute. +After the woman left, there were days when he sat in the chair in the +telegraph office and fought a desperate battle with himself. A queer +determined light shone in his small gray eyes. He arose from the chair +and walked up and down the station platform. Each time as he lifted one +of his long feet and set it slowly down a special little effort had to +be made. To move about at all was a painful performance, something he +did not want to do. All physical acts were to him dull but necessary +parts of his training for a vague and glorious future that was to come +to him some day in a brighter and more beautiful land that lay in the +direction thought of rather indefinitely as the East. "If I do not move +and keep moving I'll become like father, like all of the people about +here," Hugh said to himself. He thought of the man who had bred him +and whom he occasionally saw drifting aimlessly along Main Street or +sleeping away a drunken stupor on the river bank. He was disgusted with +him and had come to share the opinion the station master's wife had +always held concerning the people of the Missouri village. "They're a +lot of miserable lazy louts," she had declared a thousand times, and +Hugh, agreed with her, but sometimes wondered if in the end he might not +also become a lazy lout. That possibility he knew was in him and for +the sake of the woman as well as for his own sake he was determined it +should not be so. + +The truth is that the people of Mudcat Landing were totally unlike any +of the people Sarah Shepard had ever known and unlike the people Hugh +was to know during his mature life. He who had come from a people not +smart was to live among smart energetic men and women and be called +a big man by them without in the least understanding what they were +talking about. + +Practically all of the people of Hugh's home town were of Southern +origin. Living originally in a land where all physical labor was +performed by slaves, they had come to have a deep aversion to physical +labor. In the South their fathers, having no money to buy slaves of +their own and being unwilling to compete with slave labor, had tried to +live without labor. For the most part they lived in the mountains +and the hill country of Kentucky and Tennessee, on land too poor and +unproductive to be thought worth cultivating by their rich slave-owning +neighbors of the valleys and plains. Their food was meager and of an +enervating sameness and their bodies degenerate. Children grew up long +and gaunt and yellow like badly nourished plants. Vague indefinite +hungers took hold of them and they gave themselves over to dreams. +The more energetic among them, sensing dimly the unfairness of their +position in life, became vicious and dangerous. Feuds started among them +and they killed each other to express their hatred of life. When, in +the years preceding the Civil War, a few of them pushed north along +the rivers and settled in Southern Indiana and Illinois and in Eastern +Missouri and Arkansas, they seemed to have exhausted their energy in +making the voyage and slipped quickly back into their old slothful way +of life. Their impulse to emigrate did not carry them far and but a few +of them ever reached the rich corn lands of central Indiana, Illinois +or Iowa or the equally rich land back from the river in Missouri or +Arkansas. In Southern Indiana and Illinois they were merged into the +life about them and with the infusion of new blood they a little awoke. +They have tempered the quality of the peoples of those regions, +made them perhaps less harshly energetic than their forefathers, the +pioneers. In many of the Missouri and Arkansas river towns they have +changed but little. A visitor to these parts may see them there to-day, +long, gaunt, and lazy, sleeping their lives away and awakening out of +their stupor only at long intervals and at the call of hunger. + +As for Hugh McVey, he stayed in his home town and among his own people +for a year after the departure of the man and woman who had been father +and mother to him, and then he also departed. All through the year he +worked constantly to cure himself of the curse of indolence. When he +awoke in the morning he did not dare lie in bed for a moment for fear +indolence would overcome him and he would not be able to arise at all. +Getting out of bed at once he dressed and went to the station. During +the day there was not much work to be done and he walked for hours up +and down the station platform. When he sat down he at once took up +a book and put his mind to work. When the pages of the book became +indistinct before his eyes and he felt within him the inclination +to drift off into dreams, he again arose and walked up and down the +platform. Having accepted the New England woman's opinion of his own +people and not wanting to associate with them, his life became utterly +lonely and his loneliness also drove him to labor. + +Something happened to him. Although his body would not and never did +become active, his mind began suddenly to work with feverish eagerness. +The vague thoughts and feelings that had always been a part of him but +that had been indefinite, ill-defined things, like clouds floating far +away in a hazy sky, began to grow definite. In the evening after his +work was done and he had locked the station for the night, he did not go +to the town hotel where he had taken a room and where he ate his meals, +but wandered about town and along the road that ran south beside the +great mysterious river. A hundred new and definite desires and hungers +awoke in him. He began to want to talk with people, to know men and +most of all to know women, but the disgust for his fellows in the town, +engendered in him by Sarah Shepard's words and most of all by the things +in his nature that were like their natures, made him draw back. When in +the fall at the end of the year after the Shepards had left and he +began living alone, his father was killed in a senseless quarrel with a +drunken river man over the ownership of a dog, a sudden, and what seemed +to him at the moment heroic resolution came to him. He went early one +morning to one of the town's two saloon keepers, a man who had been his +father's' nearest approach to a friend and companion, and gave him money +to bury the dead man. Then he wired to the headquarters of the railroad +company telling them to send a man to Mudcat Landing to take his place. +On the afternoon of the day on which his father was buried, he bought +himself a handbag and packed his few belongings. Then he sat down alone +on the steps of the railroad station to wait for the evening train that +would bring the man who was to replace him and that would at the same +time take him away. He did not know where he intended to go, but knew +that he wanted to push out into a new land and get among new people. +He thought he would go east and north. He remembered the long summer +evenings in the river town when the station master slept and his wife +talked. The boy who listened had wanted to sleep also, but with the eyes +of Sarah Shepard fixed on him, had not dared to do so. The woman had +talked of a land dotted with towns where the houses were all painted in +bright colors, where young girls dressed in white dresses went about in +the evening, walking under trees beside streets paved with bricks, where +there was no dust or mud, where stores were gay bright places filled +with beautiful wares that the people had money to buy in abundance and +where every one was alive and doing things worth while and none was +slothful and lazy. The boy who had now become a man wanted to go to such +a place. His work in the railroad station had given him some idea of the +geography of the country and, although he could not have told whether +the woman who had talked so enticingly had in mind her childhood in New +England or her girlhood in Michigan, he knew in a general way that to +reach the land and the people who were to show him by their lives the +better way to form his own life, he must go east. He decided that the +further east he went the more beautiful life would become, and that he +had better not try going too far in the beginning. "I'll go into the +northern part of Indiana or Ohio," he told himself. "There must be +beautiful towns in those places." + +Hugh was boyishly eager to get on his way and to become at once a part +of the life in a new place. The gradual awakening of his mind had +given him courage, and he thought of himself as armed and ready for +association with men. He wanted to become acquainted with and be +the friend of people whose lives were beautifully lived and who were +themselves beautiful and full of significance. As he sat on the steps +of the railroad station in the poor little Missouri town with his bag +beside him, and thought of all the things he wanted to do in life, his +mind became so eager and restless that some of its restlessness was +transmitted to his body. For perhaps the first time in his life he arose +without conscious effort and walked up and down the station platform out +of an excess of energy. He thought he could not bear to wait until the +train came and brought the man who was to take his place. "Well, I'm +going away, I'm going away to be a man among men," he said to himself +over and over. The saying became a kind of refrain and he said +it unconsciously. As he repeated the words his heart beat high in +anticipation of the future he thought lay before him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Hugh McVey left the town of Mudcat Landing in early September of the +year eighteen eighty-six. He was then twenty years old and was six feet +and four inches tall. The whole upper part of his body was immensely +strong but his long legs were ungainly and lifeless. He secured a pass +from the railroad company that had employed him, and rode north along +the river in the night train until he came to a large town named +Burlington in the State of Iowa. There a bridge went over the river, and +the railroad tracks joined those of a trunk line and ran eastward toward +Chicago; but Hugh did not continue his journey on that night. Getting +off the train he went to a nearby hotel and took a room for the night. + +It was a cool clear evening and Hugh was restless. The town of +Burlington, a prosperous place in the midst of a rich farming country, +overwhelmed him with its stir and bustle. For the first time he saw +brick-paved streets and streets lighted with lamps. Although it was +nearly ten o'clock at night when he arrived, people still walked about +in the streets and many stores were open. + +The hotel where he had taken a room faced the railroad tracks and stood +at the corner of a brightly lighted street. When he had been shown to +his room Hugh sat for a half hour by an open window, and then as he +could not sleep, decided to go for a walk. For a time he walked in the +streets where the people stood about before the doors of the stores but, +as his tall figure attracted attention and he felt people staring at +him, he went presently into a side street. + +In a few minutes he became utterly lost. He went through what seemed to +him miles of streets lined with frame and brick houses, and occasionally +passed people, but was too timid and embarrassed to ask his way. The +street climbed upward and after a time he got into open country and +followed a road that ran along a cliff overlooking the Mississippi +River. The night was clear and the sky brilliant with stars. In the +open, away from the multitude of houses, he no longer felt awkward and +afraid, and went cheerfully along. After a time he stopped and stood +facing the river. Standing on a high cliff and with a grove of trees +at his back, the stars seemed to have all gathered in the eastern sky. +Below him the water of the river reflected the stars. They seemed to be +making a pathway for him into the East. + +The tall Missouri countryman sat down on a log near the edge of the +cliff and tried to see the water in the river below. Nothing was visible +but a bed of stars that danced and twinkled in the darkness. He had +made his way to a place far above the railroad bridge, but presently a +through passenger train from the West passed over it and the lights of +the train looked also like stars, stars that moved and beckoned and that +seemed to fly like flocks of birds out of the West into the East. + +For several hours Hugh sat on the log in the darkness. He decided that +it was hopeless for him to find his way back to the hotel, and was glad +of the excuse for staying abroad. His body for the first time in his +life felt light and strong and his mind was feverishly awake. A buggy +in which sat a young man and woman went along the road at his back, +and after the voices had died away silence came, broken only at long +intervals during the hours when he sat thinking of his future by +the barking of a dog in some distant house or the churning of the +paddle-wheels of a passing river boat. + +All of the early formative years of Hugh McVey's life had been spent +within sound of the lapping of the waters of the Mississippi River. He +had seen it in the hot summer when the water receded and the mud lay +baked and cracked along the edge of the water; in the spring when the +floods raged and the water went whirling past, bearing tree logs and +even parts of houses; in the winter when the water looked deathly cold +and ice floated past; and in the fall when it was quiet and still and +lovely, and seemed to have sucked an almost human quality of warmth out +of the red trees that lined its shores. Hugh had spent hours and days +sitting or lying in the grass beside the river. The fishing shack in +which he had lived with his father until he was fourteen years old was +within a half dozen long strides of the river's edge, and the boy had +often been left there alone for a week at a time. When his father had +gone for a trip on a lumber raft or to work for a few days on some farm +in the country back from the river, the boy, left often without money +and with but a few loaves of bread, went fishing when he was hungry and +when he was not did nothing but idle the days away in the grass on the +river bank. Boys from the town came sometimes to spend an hour with him, +but in their presence he was embarrassed and a little annoyed. He wanted +to be left alone with his dreams. One of the boys, a sickly, pale, +undeveloped lad of ten, often stayed with him through an entire summer +afternoon. He was the son of a merchant in the town and grew quickly +tired when he tried to follow other boys about. On the river bank he lay +beside Hugh in silence. The two got into Hugh's boat and went fishing +and the merchant's son grew animated and talked. He taught Hugh to write +his own name and to read a few words. The shyness that kept them apart +had begun to break down, when the merchant's son caught some childhood +disease and died. + +In the darkness above the cliff that night in Burlington Hugh remembered +things concerning his boyhood that had not come back to his mind in +years. The very thoughts that had passed through his mind during those +long days of idling on the river bank came streaming back. + +After his fourteenth year when he went to work at the railroad station +Hugh had stayed away from the river. With his work at the station, and +in the garden back of Sarah Shepard's house, and the lessons in the +afternoons, he had little idle time. On Sundays however things were +different. Sarah Shepard did not go to church after she came to +Mudcat Landing, but she would have no work done on Sundays. On Sunday +afternoons in the summer she and her husband sat in chairs beneath a +tree beside the house and went to sleep. Hugh got into the habit of +going off by himself. He wanted to sleep also, but did not dare. He went +along the river bank by the road that ran south from the town, and when +he had followed it two or three miles, turned into a grove of trees and +lay down in the shade. + +The long summer Sunday afternoons had been delightful times for Hugh, so +delightful that he finally gave them up, fearing they might lead him to +take up again his old sleepy way of life. Now as he sat in the darkness +above the same river he had gazed on through the long Sunday afternoons, +a spasm of something like loneliness swept over him. For the first time +he thought about leaving the river country and going into a new land +with a keen feeling of regret. + +On the Sunday afternoons in the woods south of Mudcat Landing Hugh had +lain perfectly still in the grass for hours. The smell of dead fish that +had always been present about the shack where he spent his boyhood, was +gone and there were no swarms of flies. Above his head a breeze played +through the branches of the trees, and insects sang in the grass. +Everything about him was clean. A lovely stillness pervaded the river +and the woods. He lay on his belly and gazed down over the river out of +sleep-heavy eyes into hazy distances. Half formed thoughts passed like +visions through his mind. He dreamed, but his dreams were unformed and +vaporous. For hours the half dead, half alive state into which he had +got, persisted. He did not sleep but lay in a land between sleeping and +waking. Pictures formed in his mind. The clouds that floated in the sky +above the river took on strange, grotesque shapes. They began to move. +One of the clouds separated itself from the others. It moved swiftly +away into the dim distance and then returned. It became a half human +thing and seemed to be marshaling the other clouds. Under its influence +they became agitated and moved restlessly about. Out of the body of the +most active of the clouds long vaporous arms were extended. They pulled +and hauled at the other clouds making them also restless and agitated. + +Hugh's mind, as he sat in the darkness on the cliff above the river that +night in Burlington, was deeply stirred. Again he was a boy lying in +the woods above his river, and the visions that had come to him there +returned with startling clearness. He got off the log and lying in the +wet grass, closed his eyes. His body became warm. + +Hugh thought his mind had gone out of his body and up into the sky +to join the clouds and the stars, to play with them. From the sky he +thought he looked down on the earth and saw rolling fields, hills and +forests. He had no part in the lives of the men and women of the earth, +but was torn away from them, left to stand by himself. From his place in +the sky above the earth he saw the great river going majestically along. +For a time it was quiet and contemplative as the sky had been when he +was a boy down below lying on his belly in the wood. He saw men pass in +boats and could hear their voices dimly. A great quiet prevailed and he +looked abroad beyond the wide expanse of the river and saw fields and +towns. They were all hushed and still. An air of waiting hung over +them. And then the river was whipped into action by some strange unknown +force, something that had come out of a distant place, out of the place +to which the cloud had gone and from which it had returned to stir and +agitate the other clouds. + +The river now went tearing along. It overflowed its banks and swept +over the land, uprooting trees and forests and towns. The white faces of +drowned men and children, borne along by the flood, looked up into the +mind's eye of the man Hugh, who, in the moment of his setting out into +the definite world of struggle and defeat, had let himself slip back +into the vaporous dreams of his boyhood. + +As he lay in the wet grass in the darkness on the cliff Hugh tried +to force his way back to consciousness, but for a long time was +unsuccessful. He rolled and writhed about and his lips muttered words. +It was useless. His mind also was swept away. The clouds of which he +felt himself a part flew across the face of the sky. They blotted out +the sun from the earth, and darkness descended on the land, on the +troubled towns, on the hills that were torn open, on the forests that +were destroyed, on the peace and quiet of all places. In the country +stretching away from the river where all had been peace and quiet, +all was now agitation and unrest. Houses were destroyed and instantly +rebuilt. People gathered in whirling crowds. + +The dreaming man felt himself a part of something significant and +terrible that was happening to the earth and to the peoples of the +earth. Again he struggled to awake, to force himself back out of the +dream world into consciousness. When he did awake, day was breaking +and he sat on the very edge of the cliff that looked down upon the +Mississippi River, gray now in the dim morning light. + + * * * * * + +The towns in which Hugh lived during the first three years after he +began his eastward journey were all small places containing a few +hundred people, and were scattered through Illinois, Indiana and western +Ohio. All of the people among whom he worked and lived during that +time were farmers and laborers. In the spring of the first year of his +wandering he passed through the city of Chicago and spent two hours +there, going in and out at the same railroad station. + +He was not tempted to become a city man. The huge commercial city at the +foot of Lake Michigan, because of its commanding position in the very +center of a vast farming empire, had already become gigantic. He never +forgot the two hours he spent standing in the station in the heart of +the city and walking in the street adjoining the station. It was evening +when he came into the roaring, clanging place. On the long wide plains +west of the city he saw farmers at work with their spring plowing as the +train went flying along. Presently the farms grew small and the whole +prairie dotted with towns. In these the train did not stop but ran into +a crowded network of streets filled with multitudes of people. When he +got into the big dark station Hugh saw thousands of people rushing about +like disturbed insects. Unnumbered thousands of people were going out of +the city at the end of their day of work and trains waited to take +them to towns on the prairies. They came in droves, hurrying along like +distraught cattle, over a bridge and into the station. The in-bound +crowds that had alighted from through trains coming from cities of the +East and West climbed up a stairway to the street, and those that were +out-bound tried to descend by the same stairway and at the same time. +The result was a whirling churning mass of humanity. Every one pushed +and crowded his way along. Men swore, women grew angry, and children +cried. Near the doorway that opened into the street a long line of cab +drivers shouted and roared. + +Hugh looked at the people who were whirled along past him, and shivered +with the nameless fear of multitudes, common to country boys in the +city. When the rush of people had a little subsided he went out of the +station and, walking across a narrow street, stood by a brick store +building. Presently the rush of people began again, and again men, +women, and boys came hurrying across the bridge and ran wildly in at +the doorway leading into the station. They came in waves as water washes +along a beach during a storm. Hugh had a feeling that if he were by +some chance to get caught in the crowd he would be swept away into +some unknown and terrible place. Waiting until the rush had a little +subsided, he went across the street and on to the bridge to look at the +river that flowed past the station. It was narrow and filled with ships, +and the water looked gray and dirty. A pall of black smoke covered the +sky. From all sides of him and even in the air above his head a great +clatter and roar of bells and whistles went on. + +With the air of a child venturing into a dark forest Hugh went a little +way into one of the streets that led westward from the station. Again +he stopped and stood by a building. Near at hand a group of young +city roughs stood smoking and talking before a saloon. Out of a nearby +building came a young girl who approached and spoke to one of them. +The man began to swear furiously. "You tell her I'll come in there in +a minute and smash her face," he said, and, paying no more attention to +the girl, turned to stare at Hugh. All of the young men lounging before +the saloon turned to stare at the tall countryman. They began to laugh +and one of them walked quickly toward him. + +Hugh ran along the street and into the station followed by the shouts of +the young roughs. He did not venture out again, and when his train +was ready, got aboard and went gladly out of the great complex +dwelling-place of modern Americans. + +Hugh went from town to town always working his way eastward, always +seeking the place where happiness was to come to him and where he was to +achieve companionship with men and women. He cut fence posts in a forest +on a large farm in Indiana, worked in the fields, and in one place was a +section hand on the railroad. + +On a farm in Indiana, some forty miles east of Indianapolis, he was for +the first time powerfully touched by the presence of a woman. She was +the daughter of the farmer who was Hugh's employer, and was an alert, +handsome woman of twenty-four who had been a school teacher but had +given up the work because she was about to be married. Hugh thought the +man who was to marry her the most fortunate being in the world. He lived +in Indianapolis and came by train to spend the week-ends at the farm. +The woman prepared for his coming by putting on a white dress and +fastening a rose in her hair. The two people walked about in an orchard +beside the house or went for a ride along the country roads. The +young man, who, Hugh had been told, worked in a bank, wore stiff white +collars, a black suit and a black derby hat. + +On the farm Hugh worked in the field with the farmer and ate at table +with his family, but did not get acquainted with them. On Sunday when +the young man came he took the day off and went into a nearby town. The +courtship became a matter very close to him and he lived through +the excitement of the weekly visits as though he had been one of the +principals. The daughter of the house, sensing the fact that the +silent farm hand was stirred by her presence, became interested in him. +Sometimes in the evening as he sat on a little porch before the house, +she came to join him, and sat looking at him with a peculiarly detached +and interested air. She tried to make talk, but Hugh answered all her +advances so briefly and with such a half frightened manner that she gave +up the attempt. One Saturday evening when her sweetheart had come she +took him for a ride in the family carriage, and Hugh concealed himself +in the hay loft of the barn to wait for their return. + +Hugh had never seen or heard a man express in any way his affection for +a woman. It seemed to him a terrifically heroic thing to do and he +hoped by concealing himself in the barn to see it done. It was a bright +moonlight night and he waited until nearly eleven o'clock before the +lovers returned. In the hayloft there was an opening high up under the +roof. Because of his great height he could reach and pull himself up, +and when he had done so, found a footing on one of the beams that formed +the framework of the barn. The lovers stood unhitching the horse in the +barnyard below. When the city man had led the horse into the stable he +hurried quickly out again and went with the farmer's daughter along a +path toward the house. The two people laughed and pulled at each other +like children. They grew silent and when they had come near the house, +stopped by a tree to embrace. Hugh saw the man take the woman into his +arms and hold her tightly against his body. He was so excited that he +nearly fell off the beam. His imagination was inflamed and he tried +to picture himself in the position of the young city man. His fingers +gripped the boards to which he clung and his body trembled. The two +figures standing in the dim light by the tree became one. For a long +time they clung tightly to each other and then drew apart. They went +into the house and Hugh climbed down from his place on the beam and +lay in the hay. His body shook as with a chill and he was half ill of +jealousy, anger, and an overpowering sense of defeat. It did not seem to +him at the moment that it was worth while for him to go further east or +to try to find a place where he would be able to mingle freely with men +and women, or where such a wonderful thing as had happened to the man in +the barnyard below might happen to him. + +Hugh spent the night in the hayloft and at daylight crept out and went +into a nearby town. He returned to the farmhouse late on Monday when +he was sure the city man had gone away. In spite of the protest of +the farmer he packed his clothes at once and declared his intention of +leaving. He did not wait for the evening meal but hurried out of the +house. When he got into the road and had started to walk away, he looked +back and saw the daughter of the house standing at an open door and +looking at him. Shame for what he had done on the night before swept +over him. For a moment he stared at the woman who, with an intense, +interested air stared back at him, and then putting down his head he +hurried away. The woman watched him out of sight and later, when her +father stormed about the house, blaming Hugh for leaving so suddenly and +declaring the tall Missourian was no doubt a drunkard who wanted to go +off on a drunk, she had nothing to say. In her own heart she knew what +was the matter with her father's farm hand and was sorry he had gone +before she had more completely exercised her power over him. + + * * * * * + +None of the towns Hugh visited during his three years of wandering +approached realization of the sort of life Sarah Shepard had talked to +him about. They were all very much alike. There was a main street with +a dozen stores on each side, a blacksmith shop, and perhaps an elevator +for the storage of grain. All day the town was deserted, but in the +evening the citizens gathered on Main Street. On the sidewalks before +the stores young farm hands and clerks sat on store boxes or on the +curbing. They did not pay any attention to Hugh who, when he went to +stand near them, remained silent and kept himself in the background. The +farm hands talked of their work and boasted of the number of bushels of +corn they could pick in a day, or of their skill in plowing. The clerks +were intent upon playing practical jokes which pleased the farm hands +immensely. While one of them talked loudly of his skill in his work a +clerk crept out at the door of one of the stores and approached him. He +held a pin in his hand and with it jabbed the talker in the back. The +crowd yelled and shouted with delight. If the victim became angry a +quarrel started, but this did not often happen. Other men came to join +the party and the joke was told to them. "Well, you should have seen +the look on his face. I thought I would die," one of the bystanders +declared. + +Hugh got a job with a carpenter who specialized in the building of barns +and stayed with him all through one fall. Later he went to work as a +section hand on a railroad. Nothing happened to him. He was like one +compelled to walk through life with a bandage over his eyes. On all +sides of him, in the towns and on the farms, an undercurrent of life +went on that did not touch him. In even the smallest of the towns, +inhabited only by farm laborers, a quaint interesting civilization was +being developed. Men worked hard but were much in the open air and +had time to think. Their minds reached out toward the solution of the +mystery of existence. The schoolmaster and the country lawyer read Tom +Paine's "Age of Reason" and Bellamy's "Looking Backward." They discussed +these books with their fellows. There was a feeling, ill expressed, that +America had something real and spiritual to offer to the rest of the +world. Workmen talked to each other of the new tricks of their trades, +and after hours of discussion of some new way to cultivate corn, shape +a horseshoe or build a barn, spoke of God and his intent concerning +man. Long drawn out discussions of religious beliefs and the political +destiny of America were carried on. + +And across the background of these discussions ran tales of action in +a sphere outside the little world in which the inhabitants of the towns +lived. Men who had been in the Civil War and who had climbed fighting +over hills and in the terror of defeat had swum wide rivers, told the +tale of their adventures. + +In the evening, after his day of work in the field or on the railroad +with the section hands, Hugh did not know what to do with himself. That +he did not go to bed immediately after the evening meal was due to the +fact that he looked upon his tendency to sleep and to dream as an enemy +to his development; and a peculiarly persistent determination to make +something alive and worth while out of himself--the result of the five +years of constant talking on the subject by the New England woman--had +taken possession of him. "I'll find the right place and the right people +and then I'll begin," he continually said to himself. + +And then, worn out with weariness and loneliness, he went to bed in +one of the little hotels or boarding houses where he lived during those +years, and his dreams returned. The dream that had come that night as +he lay on the cliff above the Mississippi River near the town of +Burlington, came back time after time. He sat upright in bed in the +darkness of his room and after he had driven the cloudy, vague sensation +out of his brain, was afraid to go to sleep again. He did not want to +disturb the people of the house and so got up and dressed and without +putting on his shoes walked up and down in the room. Sometimes the room +he occupied had a low ceiling and he was compelled to stoop. He crept +out of the house carrying his shoes in his hand and sat down on the +sidewalk to put them on. In all the towns he visited, people saw him +walking alone through the streets late at night or in the early hours of +the morning. Whispers concerning the matter ran about. The story of what +was spoken of as his queerness came to the men with whom he worked, +and they found themselves unable to talk freely and naturally in his +presence. At the noon hour when the men ate the lunch they had carried +to work, when the boss was gone and it was customary among the workers +to talk of their own affairs, they went off by themselves. Hugh followed +them about. They went to sit under a tree, and when Hugh came to stand +nearby, they became silent or the more vulgar and shallow among them +began to show off. While he worked with a half dozen other men as a +section hand on the railroad, two men did all the talking. Whenever the +boss went away an old man who had a reputation as a wit told stories +concerning his relations with women. A young man with red hair took the +cue from him. The two men talked loudly and kept looking at Hugh. The +younger of the two wits turned to another workman who had a weak, timid +face. "Well, you," he cried, "what about your old woman? What about her? +Who is the father of your son? Do you dare tell?" + +In the towns Hugh walked about in the evening and tried always to keep +his mind fixed on definite things. He felt that humanity was for some +unknown reason drawing itself away from him, and his mind turned back +to the figure of Sarah Shepard. He remembered that she had never been +without things to do. She scrubbed her kitchen floor and prepared food +for cooking; she washed, ironed, kneaded dough for bread, and mended +clothes. In the evening, when she made the boy read to her out of one of +the school books or do sums on a slate, she kept her hands busy knitting +socks for him or for her husband. Except when something had crossed her +so that she scolded and her face grew red, she was always cheerful. +When the boy had nothing to do at the station and had been sent by the +station master to work about the house, to draw water from the cistern +for a family washing, or pull weeds in the garden, he heard the woman +singing as she went about the doing of her innumerable petty tasks. Hugh +decided that he also must do small tasks, fix his mind upon definite +things. In the town where he was employed as a section hand, the cloud +dream in which the world became a whirling, agitated center of disaster +came to him almost every night. Winter came on and he walked through +the streets at night in the darkness and through the deep snow. He was +almost frozen; but as the whole lower part of his body was habitually +cold he did not much mind the added discomfort, and so great was the +reserve of strength in his big frame that the loss of sleep did not +affect his ability to labor all day without effort. + +Hugh went into one of the residence streets of the town and counted the +pickets in the fences before the houses. He returned to the hotel and +made a calculation as to the number of pickets in all the fences in +town. Then he got a rule at the hardware store and carefully measured +the pickets. He tried to estimate the number of pickets that could be +cut out of certain sized trees and that gave his mind another opening. +He counted the number of trees in every street in town. He learned to +tell at a glance and with relative accuracy how much lumber could be cut +out of a tree. He built imaginary houses with lumber cut from the trees +that lined the streets. He even tried to figure out a way to utilize the +small limbs cut from the tops of the trees, and one Sunday went into the +wood back of the town and cut a great armful of twigs, which he carried +to his room and later with great patience wove into the form of a +basket. + + + + +BOOK TWO + + +CHAPTER III + + +Bidwell, Ohio, was an old town as the ages of towns go in the Central +West, long before Hugh McVey, in his search for a place where he could +penetrate the wall that shut him off from humanity, went there to live +and to try to work out his problem. It is a busy manufacturing town now +and has a population of nearly a hundred thousand people; but the time +for the telling of the story of its sudden and surprising growth has not +yet come. + +From the beginning Bidwell has been a prosperous place. The town lies +in the valley of a deep, rapid-flowing river that spreads out just +above the town, becomes for the time wide and shallow, and goes singing +swiftly along over stones. South of the town the river not only spreads +out, but the hills recede. A wide flat valley stretches away to the +north. In the days before the factories came the land immediately about +town was cut up into small farms devoted to fruit and berry raising, +and beyond the area of small farms lay larger tracts that were immensely +productive and that raised huge crops of wheat, corn, and cabbage. + +When Hugh was a boy sleeping away his days in the grass beside his +father's fishing shack by the Mississippi River, Bidwell had already +emerged out of the hardships of pioneer days. On the farms that lay in +the wide valley to the north the timber had been cut away and the stumps +had all been rooted out of the ground by a generation of men that had +passed. The soil was easy to cultivate and had lost little of its virgin +fertility. Two railroads, the Lake Shore and Michigan Central--later +a part of the great New York Central System--and a less important +coal-carrying road, called the Wheeling and Lake Erie, ran through the +town. Twenty-five hundred people lived then in Bidwell. They were for +the most part descendants of the pioneers who had come into the country +by boat through the Great Lakes or by wagon roads over the mountains +from the States of New York and Pennsylvania. + +The town stood on a sloping incline running up from the river, and the +Lake Shore and Michigan Central Railroad had its station on the river +bank at the foot of Main Street. The Wheeling Station was a mile away to +the north. It was to be reached by going over a bridge and along a piked +road that even then had begun to take on the semblance of a street. A +dozen houses had been built facing Turner's Pike and between these were +berry fields and an occasional orchard planted to cherry, peach or apple +trees. A hard path went down to the distant station beside the road, +and in the evening this path, wandering along under the branches of +the fruit trees that extended out over the farm fences, was a favorite +walking place for lovers. + +The small farms lying close about the town of Bidwell raised berries +that brought top prices in the two cities, Cleveland and Pittsburgh, +reached by its two railroads, and all of the people of the town who +were not engaged in one of the trades--in shoe making, carpentry, horse +shoeing, house painting or the like--or who did not belong to the small +merchant and professional classes, worked in summer on the land. On +summer mornings, men, women and children went into the fields. In the +early spring when planting went on and all through late May, June and +early July when berries and fruit began to ripen, every one was rushed +with work and the streets of the town were deserted. Every one went to +the fields. Great hay wagons loaded with children, laughing girls, and +sedate women set out from Main Street at dawn. Beside them walked tall +boys, who pelted the girls with green apples and cherries from the trees +along the road, and men who went along behind smoking their morning +pipes and talking of the prevailing prices of the products of their +fields. In the town after they had gone a Sabbath quiet prevailed. The +merchants and clerks loitered in the shade of the awnings before the +doors of the stores, and only their wives and the wives of the two or +three rich men in town came to buy and to disturb their discussions of +horse racing, politics and religion. + +In the evening when the wagons came home, Bidwell awoke. The tired berry +pickers walked home from the fields in the dust of the roads swinging +their dinner pails. The wagons creaked at their heels, piled high with +boxes of berries ready for shipment. In the stores after the evening +meal crowds gathered. Old men lit their pipes and sat gossiping along +the curbing at the edge of the sidewalks on Main Street; women with +baskets on their arms did the marketing for the next day's living; +the young men put on stiff white collars and their Sunday clothes, and +girls, who all day had been crawling over the fields between the rows +of berries or pushing their way among the tangled masses of raspberry +bushes, put on white dresses and walked up and down before the men. +Friendships begun between boys and girls in the fields ripened into +love. Couples walked along residence streets under the trees and talked +with subdued voices. They became silent and embarrassed. The bolder +ones kissed. The end of the berry picking season brought each year a new +outbreak of marriages to the town of Bidwell. + +In all the towns of mid-western America it was a time of waiting. The +country having been cleared and the Indians driven away into a vast +distant place spoken of vaguely as the West, the Civil War having been +fought and won, and there being no great national problems that touched +closely their lives, the minds of men were turned in upon themselves. +The soul and its destiny was spoken of openly on the streets. Robert +Ingersoll came to Bidwell to speak in Terry's Hall, and after he had +gone the question of the divinity of Christ for months occupied the +minds of the citizens. The ministers preached sermons on the subject +and in the evening it was talked about in the stores. Every one had +something to say. Even Charley Mook, who dug ditches, who stuttered so +that not a half dozen people in town could understand him, expressed his +opinion. + +In all the great Mississippi Valley each town came to have a character +of its own, and the people who lived in the towns were to each other +like members of a great family. The individual idiosyncrasies of each +member of the great family stood forth. A kind of invisible roof beneath +which every one lived spread itself over each town. Beneath the roof +boys and girls were born, grew up, quarreled, fought, and formed +friendships with their fellows, were introduced into the mysteries of +love, married, and became the fathers and mothers of children, grew old, +sickened, and died. + +Within the invisible circle and under the great roof every one knew his +neighbor and was known to him. Strangers did not come and go swiftly and +mysteriously and there was no constant and confusing roar of machinery +and of new projects afoot. For the moment mankind seemed about to take +time to try to understand itself. + +In Bidwell there was a man named Peter White who was a tailor and worked +hard at his trade, but who once or twice a year got drunk and beat his +wife. He was arrested each time and had to pay a fine, but there was a +general understanding of the impulse that led to the beating. Most of +the women knowing the wife sympathized with Peter. "She is a noisy thing +and her jaw is never still," the wife of Henry Teeters, the grocer, said +to her husband. "If he gets drunk it's only to forget he's married to +her. Then he goes home to sleep it off and she begins jawing at him. He +stands it as long as he can. It takes a fist to shut up that woman. If +he strikes her it's the only thing he can do." + +Allie Mulberry the half-wit was one of the highlights of life in the +town. He lived with his mother in a tumble-down house at the edge of +town on Medina Road. Beside being a half-wit he had something the matter +with his legs. They were trembling and weak and he could only move +them with great difficulty. On summer afternoons when the streets were +deserted, he hobbled along Main Street with his lower jaw hanging down. +Allie carried a large club, partly for the support of his weak legs and +partly to scare off dogs and mischievous boys. He liked to sit in the +shade with his back against a building and whittle, and he liked to be +near people and have his talent as a whittler appreciated. He made fans +out of pieces of pine, long chains of wooden beads, and he once achieved +a singular mechanical triumph that won him wide renown. He made a ship +that would float in a beer bottle half filled with water and laid on +its side. The ship had sails and three tiny wooden sailors who stood +at attention with their hands to their caps in salute. After it was +constructed and put into the bottle it was too large to be taken out +through the neck. How Allie got it in no one ever knew. The clerks and +merchants who crowded about to watch him at work discussed the matter +for days. It became a never-ending wonder among them. In the evening +they spoke of the matter to the berry pickers who came into the stores, +and in the eyes of the people of Bidwell Allie Mulberry became a hero. +The bottle, half-filled with water and securely corked, was laid on a +cushion in the window of Hunter's Jewelry Store. As it floated about on +its own little ocean crowds gathered to look at it. Over the bottle +was a sign with the words--"Carved by Allie Mulberry of +Bidwell"--prominently displayed. Below these words a query had been +printed. "How Did He Get It Into The Bottle?" was the question asked. +The bottle stayed in the window for months and merchants took the +traveling men who visited them, to see it. Then they escorted their +guests to where Allie, with his back against the wall of a building and +his club beside him, was at work on some new creation of the whittler's +art. The travelers were impressed and told the tale abroad. Allie's fame +spread to other towns. "He has a good brain," the citizen of Bidwell +said, shaking his head. "He don't appear to know very much, but look +what he does! He must be carrying all sorts of notions around inside of +his head." + +Jane Orange, widow of a lawyer, and with the single exception of Thomas +Butterworth, a farmer who owned over a thousand acres of land and lived +with his daughter on a farm a mile south of town, the richest person +in town, was known to every one in Bidwell, but was not liked. She was +called stingy and it was said that she and her husband had cheated every +one with whom they had dealings in order to get their start in life. The +town ached for the privilege of doing what they called "bringing them +down a peg." Jane's husband had once been the Bidwell town attorney and +later had charge of the settlement of an estate belonging to Ed Lucas, a +farmer who died leaving two hundred acres of land and two daughters. The +farmer's daughters, every one said, "came out at the small end of the +horn," and John Orange began to grow rich. It was said he was worth +fifty thousand dollars. All during the latter part of his life the +lawyer went to the city of Cleveland on business every week, and when he +was at home and even in the hottest weather he went about dressed in +a long black coat. When she went to the stores to buy supplies for +her house Jane Orange was watched closely by the merchants. She was +suspected of carrying away small articles that could be slipped into +the pockets of her dress. One afternoon in Toddmore's grocery, when she +thought no one was looking, she took a half dozen eggs out of a basket +and looking quickly around to be sure she was unobserved, put them into +her dress pocket. Harry Toddmore, the grocer's son who had seen the +theft, said nothing, but went unobserved out at the back door. He got +three or four clerks from other stores and they waited for Jane Orange +at a corner. When she came along they hurried out and Harry Toddmore +fell against her. Throwing out his hand he struck the pocket containing +the eggs a quick, sharp blow. Jane Orange turned and hurried away toward +home, but as she half ran through Main Street clerks and merchants came +out of the stores, and from the assembled crowd a voice called attention +to the fact that the contents of the stolen eggs having run down the +inside of her dress and over her stockings began to make a stream on the +sidewalk. A pack of town dogs excited by the shouts of the crowd ran at +her heels, barking and sniffing at the yellow stream that dripped from +her shoes. + +An old man with a long white beard came to Bidwell to live. He had been +a carpet-bag Governor of a southern state in the reconstruction days +after the Civil War and had made money. He bought a house on Turner's +Pike close beside the river and spent his days puttering about in a +small garden. In the evening he came across the bridge into Main Street +and went to loaf in Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked with great +frankness and candor of his life in the South during the terrible time +when the country was trying to emerge from the black gloom of defeat, +and brought to the Bidwell men a new point of view on their old enemies, +the "Rebs." + +The old man--the name by which he had introduced himself in Bidwell was +that of Judge Horace Hanby--believed in the manliness and honesty of +purpose of the men he had for a time governed and who had fought a +long grim war with the North, with the New Englanders and sons of New +Englanders from the West and Northwest. "They're all right," he said +with a grin. "I cheated them and made some money, but I liked them. Once +a crowd of them came to my house and threatened to kill me and I told +them that I did not blame them very much, so they let me alone." The +judge, an ex-politician from the city of New York who had been involved +in some affair that made it uncomfortable for him to return to live +in that city, grew prophetic and philosophic after he came to live in +Bidwell. In spite of the doubt every one felt concerning his past, he +was something of a scholar and a reader of books, and won respect by his +apparent wisdom. "Well, there's going to be a new war here," he said. +"It won't be like the Civil War, just shooting off guns and killing +peoples' bodies. At first it's going to be a war between individuals +to see to what class a man must belong; then it is going to be a long, +silent war between classes, between those who have and those who can't +get. It'll be the worst war of all." + +The talk of Judge Hanby, carried along and elaborated almost every +evening before a silent, attentive group in the drug store, began to +have an influence on the minds of Bidwell young men. At his suggestion +several of the town boys, Cliff Bacon, Albert Small, Ed Prawl, and two +or three others, began to save money for the purpose of going east to +college. Also at his suggestion Tom Butterworth the rich farmer sent +his daughter away to school. The old man made many prophecies concerning +what would happen in America. "I tell you, the country isn't going to +stay as it is," he said earnestly. "In eastern towns the change has +already come. Factories are being built and every one is going to work +in the factories. It takes an old man like me to see how that changes +their lives. Some of the men stand at one bench and do one thing not +only for hours but for days and years. There are signs hung up saying +they mustn't talk. Some of them make more money than they did before the +factories came, but I tell you it's like being in prison. What would +you say if I told you all America, all you fellows who talk so big about +freedom, are going to be put in a prison, eh? + +"And there's something else. In New York there are already a dozen +men who are worth a million dollars. Yes, sir, I tell you it's true, a +million dollars. What do you think of that, eh?" + +Judge Hanby grew excited and, inspired by the absorbed attention of his +audience, talked of the sweep of events. In England, he explained, the +cities were constantly growing larger, and already almost every one +either worked in a factory or owned stock in a factory. "In New England +it is getting the same way fast," he explained. "The same thing'll +happen here. Farming'll be done with tools. Almost everything now done +by hand'll be done by machinery. Some'll grow rich and some poor. The +thing is to get educated, yes, sir, that's the thing, to get ready for +what's coming. It's the only way. The younger generation has got to be +sharper and shrewder." + +The words of the old man, who had been in many places and had seen men +and cities, were repeated in the streets of Bidwell. The blacksmith and +the wheelwright repeated his words when they stopped to exchange news of +their affairs before the post-office. Ben Peeler, the carpenter, who +had been saving money to buy a house and a small farm to which he +could retire when he became too old to climb about on the framework of +buildings, used the money instead to send his son to Cleveland to a new +technical school. Steve Hunter, the son of Abraham Hunter the Bidwell +jeweler, declared that he was going to get up with the times, and when +he went into a factory, would go into the office, not into the shop. He +went to Buffalo, New York, to attend a business college. + +The air of Bidwell began to stir with talk of new times. The evil +things said of the new life coming were soon forgotten. The youth and +optimistic spirit of the country led it to take hold of the hand of the +giant, industrialism, and lead him laughing into the land. The cry, +"get on in the world," that ran all over America at that period and that +still echoes in the pages of American newspapers and magazines, rang in +the streets of Bidwell. + +In the harness shop belonging to Joseph Wainsworth it one day struck a +new note. The harness maker was a tradesman of the old school and was +vastly independent. He had learned his trade after five years' service +as apprentice, and had spent an additional five years in going from +place to place as a journeyman workman, and felt that he knew his +business. Also he owned his shop and his home and had twelve hundred +dollars in the bank. At noon one day when he was alone in the shop, Tom +Butterworth came in and told him he had ordered four sets of farm work +harness from a factory in Philadelphia. "I came in to ask if you'll +repair them if they get out of order," he said. + +Joe Wainsworth began to fumble with the tools on his bench. Then he +turned to look the farmer in the eye and to do what he later spoke of to +his cronies as "laying down the law." "When the cheap things begin to +go to pieces take them somewhere else to have them repaired," he said +sharply. He grew furiously angry. "Take the damn things to Philadelphia +where you got 'em," he shouted at the back of the farmer who had turned +to go out of the shop. + +Joe Wainsworth was upset and thought about the incident all the +afternoon. When farmer-customers came in and stood about to talk of +their affairs he had nothing to say. He was a talkative man and his +apprentice, Will Sellinger, son of the Bidwell house painter, was +puzzled by his silence. + +When the boy and the man were alone in the shop, it was Joe Wainsworth's +custom to talk of his days as a journeyman workman when he had gone from +place to place working at his trade. If a trace were being stitched or a +bridle fashioned, he told how the thing was done at a shop where he had +worked in the city of Boston and in another shop at Providence, Rhode +Island. Getting a piece of paper he made drawings illustrating the +cuts of leather that were made in the other places and the methods +of stitching. He claimed to have worked out his own method for doing +things, and that his method was better than anything he had seen in all +his travels. To the men who came into the shop to loaf during winter +afternoons he presented a smiling front and talked of their affairs, of +the price of cabbage in Cleveland or the effect of a cold snap on the +winter wheat, but alone with the boy, he talked only of harness making. +"I don't say anything about it. What's the good bragging? Just the same, +I could learn something to all the harness makers I've ever seen, and +I've seen the best of them," he declared emphatically. + +During the afternoon, after he had heard of the four factory-made work +harnesses brought into what he had always thought of as a trade that +belonged to him by the rights of a first-class workman, Joe remained +silent for two or three hours. He thought of the words of old Judge +Hanby and the constant talk of the new times now coming. Turning +suddenly to his apprentice, who was puzzled by his long silence and who +knew nothing of the incident that had disturbed his employer, he broke +forth into words. He was defiant and expressed his defiance. "Well, +then, let 'em go to Philadelphia, let 'em go any damn place +they please," he growled, and then, as though his own words had +re-established his self-respect, he straightened his shoulders and +glared at the puzzled and alarmed boy. "I know my trade and do not have +to bow down to any man," he declared. He expressed the old tradesman's +faith in his craft and the rights it gave the craftsman. "Learn your +trade. Don't listen to talk," he said earnestly. "The man who knows his +trade is a man. He can tell every one to go to the devil." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Hugh McVey was twenty-three years old when he went to live in Bidwell. +The position of telegraph operator at the Wheeling station a mile north +of town became vacant and, through an accidental encounter with a former +resident of a neighboring town, he got the place. + +The Missourian had been at work during the winter in a sawmill in the +country near a northern Indiana town. During the evenings he wandered on +country roads and in the town streets, but he did not talk to any one. +As had happened to him in other places, he had the reputation of being +queer. His clothes were worn threadbare and, although he had money +in his pockets, he did not buy new ones. In the evening when he went +through the town streets and saw the smartly dressed clerks standing +before the stores, he looked at his own shabby person and was ashamed to +enter. In his boyhood Sarah Shepard had always attended to the buying +of his clothes, and he made up his mind that he would go to the place in +Michigan to which she and her husband had retired, and pay her a visit. +He wanted Sarah Shepard to buy him a new outfit of clothes, but wanted +also to talk with her. + +Out of the three years of going from place to place and working with +other men as a laborer, Hugh had got no big impulse that he felt would +mark the road his life should take; but the study of mathematical +problems, taken up to relieve his loneliness and to cure his inclination +to dreams, was beginning to have an effect on his character. He thought +that if he saw Sarah Shepard again he could talk to her and through her +get into the way of talking to others. In the sawmill where he worked he +answered the occasional remarks made to him by his fellow workers in +a slow, hesitating drawl, and his body was still awkward and his gait +shambling, but he did his work more quickly and accurately. In the +presence of his foster-mother and garbed in new clothes, he believed +he could now talk to her in a way that had been impossible during his +youth. She would see the change in his character and would be encouraged +about him. They would get on to a new basis and he would feel respect +for himself in another. + +Hugh went to the railroad station to make inquiry regarding the fare to +the Michigan town and there had the adventure that upset his plans. As +he stood at the window of the ticket office, the ticket seller, who was +also the telegraph operator, tried to engage him in conversation. When +he had given the information asked, he followed Hugh out of the building +and into the darkness of a country railroad station at night, and the +two men stopped and stood together beside an empty baggage truck. The +ticket agent spoke of the loneliness of life in the town and said he +wished he could go back to his own place and be again with his own +people. "It may not be any better in my own town, but I know everybody +there," he said. He was curious concerning Hugh as were all the people +of the Indiana town, and hoped to get him into talk in order that he +might find out why he walked alone at night, why he sometimes worked all +evening over books and figures in his room at the country hotel, and why +he had so little to say to his fellows. Hoping to fathom Hugh's silence +he abused the town in which they both lived. "Well," he began, "I +guess I understand how you feel. You want to get out of this place." +He explained his own predicament in life. "I got married," he said. +"Already I have three children. Out here a man can make more money +railroading than he can in my state, and living is pretty cheap. Just +to-day I had an offer of a job in a good town near my own place in Ohio, +but I can't take it. The job only pays forty a month. The town's all +right, one of the best in the northern part of the State, but you see +the job's no good. Lord, I wish I could go. I'd like to live again among +people such as live in that part of the country." + +The railroad man and Hugh walked along the street that ran from the +station up into the main street of the town. Wanting to meet the +advances that had been made by his companion and not knowing how to go +about it, Hugh adopted the method he had heard his fellow laborers use +with one another. "Well," he said slowly, "come have a drink." + +The two men went into a saloon and stood by the bar. Hugh made a +tremendous effort to overcome his embarrassment. As he and the railroad +man drank foaming glasses of beer he explained that he also had once +been a railroad man and knew telegraphy, but that for several years he +had been doing other work. His companion looked at his shabby clothes +and nodded his head. He made a motion with his head to indicate that he +wanted Hugh to come with him outside into the darkness. "Well, well," +he exclaimed, when they had again got outside and had started along the +street toward the station. "I understand now. They've all been wondering +about you and I've heard lots of talk. I won't say anything, but I'm +going to do something for you." + +Hugh went to the station with his new-found friend and sat down in the +lighted office. The railroad man got out a sheet of paper and began to +write a letter. "I'm going to get you that job," he said. "I'm writing +the letter now and I'll get it off on the midnight train. You've got to +get on your feet. I was a boozer myself, but I cut it all out. A glass +of beer now and then, that's my limit." + +He began to talk of the town in Ohio where he proposed to get Hugh the +job that would set him up in the world and save him from the habit of +drinking, and described it as an earthly paradise in which lived bright, +clear-thinking men and beautiful women. Hugh was reminded sharply of the +talk he had heard from the lips of Sarah Shepard, when in his youth she +spent long evenings telling him of the wonder of her own Michigan and +New England towns and people, and contrasted the life lived there with +that lived by the people of his own place. + +Hugh decided not to try to explain away the mistake made by his new +acquaintance, and to accept the offer of assistance in getting the +appointment as telegraph operator. + +The two men walked out of the station and stood again in the darkness. +The railroad man felt like one who has been given the privilege of +plucking a human soul out of the darkness of despair. He was full of +words that poured from his lips and he assumed a knowledge of Hugh and +his character entirely unwarranted by the circumstances. "Well," he +exclaimed heartily, "you see I've given you a send-off. I have told them +you're a good man and a good operator, but that you will take the place +with its small salary because you've been sick and just now can't work +very hard." The excited man followed Hugh along the street. It was +late and the store lights had been put out. From one of the town's two +saloons that lay in their way arose a clatter of voices. The old boyhood +dream of finding a place and a people among whom he could, by sitting +still and inhaling the air breathed by others, come into a warm +closeness with life, came back to Hugh. He stopped before the saloon to +listen to the voices within, but the railroad man plucked at his coat +sleeve and protested. "Now, now, you're going to cut it out, eh?" he +asked anxiously and then hurriedly explained his anxiety. "Of course +I know what's the matter with you. Didn't I tell you I've been there +myself? You've been working around. I know why that is. You don't have +to tell me. If there wasn't something the matter with him, no man who +knows telegraphy would work in a sawmill. + +"Well, there's no good talking about it," he added thoughtfully. "I've +given you a send-off. You're going to cut it out, eh?" + +Hugh tried to protest and to explain that he was not addicted to the +habit of drinking, but the Ohio man would not listen. "It's all right," +he said again, and then they came to the hotel where Hugh lived and he +turned to go back to the station and wait for the midnight train that +would carry the letter away and that would, he felt, carry also his +demand that a fellow-human, who had slipped from the modern path of +work and progress should be given a new chance. He felt magnanimous and +wonderfully gracious. "It's all right, my boy," he said heartily. "No +use talking to me. To-night when you came to the station to ask the fare +to that hole of a place in Michigan I saw you were embarrassed. 'What's +the matter with that fellow?' I said to myself. I got to thinking. Then +I came up town with you and right away you bought me a drink. I wouldn't +have thought anything about that if I hadn't been there myself. You'll +get on your feet. Bidwell, Ohio, is full of good men. You get in with +them and they'll help you and stick by you. You'll like those people. +They've got get-up to them. The place you'll work at there is far out of +town. It's away out about a mile at a little kind of outside-like place +called Pickleville. There used to be a saloon there and a factory for +putting up cucumber pickles, but they've both gone now. You won't be +tempted to slip in that place. You'll have a chance to get on your feet. +I'm glad I thought of sending you there." + + * * * * * + +The Wheeling and Lake Erie ran along a little wooded depression that cut +across the wide expanse of open farm lands north of the town of Bidwell. +It brought coal from the hill country of West Virginia and southeastern +Ohio to ports on Lake Erie, and did not pay much attention to the +carrying of passengers. In the morning a train consisting of a combined +express and baggage car and two passenger coaches went north and west +toward the lake, and in the evening the same train returned, bound +southeast into the Hills, The Bidwell station of the road was, in an odd +way, detached from the town's life. The invisible roof under which the +life of the town and the surrounding country was lived did not cover it. +As the Indiana railroad man had told Hugh, the station itself stood on a +spot known locally as Pickleville. Back of the station there was a small +building for the storage of freight and near at hand four or five houses +facing Turner's Pike. The pickle factory, now deserted and with its +windows gone, stood across the tracks from the station and beside a +small stream that ran under a bridge and across country through a grove +of trees to the river. On hot summer days a sour, pungent smell arose +from the old factory, and at night its presence lent a ghostly flavor to +the tiny corner of the world in which lived perhaps a dozen people. + +All day and at night an intense persistent silence lay over Pickleville, +while in Bidwell a mile away the stir of new life began. In the evenings +and on rainy afternoons when men could not work in the fields, old Judge +Hanby went along Turner's Pike and across the wagon bridge into Bidwell +and sat in a chair at the back of Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked. +Men came in to listen to him and went out. New talk ran through the +town. A new force that was being born into American life and into +life everywhere all over the world was feeding on the old dying +individualistic life. The new force stirred and aroused the people. It +met a need that was universal. It was meant to seal men together, to +wipe out national lines, to walk under seas and fly through the air, +to change the entire face of the world in which men lived. Already the +giant that was to be king in the place of old kings was calling his +servants and his armies to serve him. He used the methods of old +kings and promised his followers booty and gain. Everywhere he went +unchallenged, surveying the land, raising a new class of men to +positions of power. Railroads had already been pushed out across the +plains; great coal fields from which was to be taken food to warm the +blood in the body of the giant were being opened up; iron fields were +being discovered; the roar and clatter of the breathing of the terrible +new thing, half hideous, half beautiful in its possibilities, that was +for so long to drown the voices and confuse the thinking of men, was +heard not only in the towns but even in lonely farm houses, where its +willing servants, the newspapers and magazines, had begun to circulate +in ever increasing numbers. At the town of Gibsonville, near Bidwell, +Ohio, and at Lima and Finley, Ohio, oil and gas fields were discovered. +At Cleveland, Ohio, a precise, definite-minded man named Rockefeller +bought and sold oil. From the first he served the new thing well and +he soon found others to serve with him. The Morgans, Fricks, Goulds, +Carnegies, Vanderbilts, servants of the new king, princes of the new +faith, merchants all, a new kind of rulers of men, defied the world-old +law of class that puts the merchant below the craftsman, and added +to the confusion of men by taking on the air of creators. They were +merchants glorified and dealt in giant things, in the lives of men and +in mines, forests, oil and gas fields, factories, and railroads. + +And all over the country, in the towns, the farm houses, and the growing +cities of the new country, people stirred and awakened. Thought and +poetry died or passed as a heritage to feeble fawning men who also +became servants of the new order. Serious young men in Bidwell and in +other American towns, whose fathers had walked together on moonlight +nights along Turner's Pike to talk of God, went away to technical +schools. Their fathers had walked and talked and thoughts had grown +up in them. The impulse had reached back to their father's fathers on +moonlit roads of England, Germany, Ireland, France, and Italy, and +back of these to the moonlit hills of Judea where shepherds talked and +serious young men, John and Matthew and Jesus, caught the drift of the +talk and made poetry of it; but the serious-minded sons of these men in +the new land were swept away from thinking and dreaming. From all sides +the voice of the new age that was to do definite things shouted at them. +Eagerly they took up the cry and ran with it. Millions of voices arose. +The clamor became terrible, and confused the minds of all men. In making +way for the newer, broader brotherhood into which men are some day to +emerge, in extending the invisible roofs of the towns and cities to +cover the world, men cut and crushed their way through the bodies of +men. + +And while the voices became louder and more excited and the new giant +walked about making a preliminary survey of the land, Hugh spent his +days at the quiet, sleepy railroad station at Pickleville and tried to +adjust his mind to the realization of the fact that he was not to be +accepted as fellow by the citizens of the new place to which he had +come. During the day he sat in the tiny telegraph office or, pulling an +express truck to the open window near his telegraph instrument, lay on +his back with a sheet of paper propped on his bony knees and did sums. +Farmers driving past on Turner's Pike saw him there and talked of him +in the stores in town. "He's a queer silent fellow," they said. "What do +you suppose he's up to?" + +Hugh walked in the streets of Bidwell at night as he had walked in the +streets of towns in Indiana and Illinois. He approached groups of men +loafing on a street corner and then went hurriedly past them. On quiet +streets as he went along under the trees, he saw women sitting in the +lamplight in the houses and hungered to have a house and a woman of his +own. One afternoon a woman school teacher came to the station to make +inquiry regarding the fare to a town in West Virginia. As the station +agent was not about Hugh gave her the information she sought and she +lingered for a few moments to talk with him. He answered the questions +she asked with monosyllables and she soon went away, but he was +delighted and looked upon the incident as an adventure. At night he +dreamed of the school teacher and when he awoke, pretended she was with +him in his bedroom. He put out his hand and touched the pillow. It was +soft and smooth as he imagined the cheek of a woman would be. He did +not know the school teacher's name but invented one for her. "Be quiet, +Elizabeth. Do not let me disturb your sleep," he murmured into the +darkness. One evening he went to the house where the school teacher +boarded and stood in the shadow of a tree until he saw her come out and +go toward Main Street. Then he went by a roundabout way and walked past +her on the sidewalk before the lighted stores. He did not look at her, +but in passing her dress touched his arm and he was so excited later +that he could not sleep and spent half the night walking about and +thinking of the wonderful thing that had happened to him. + +The ticket, express, and freight agent for the Wheeling and Lake Erie +at Bidwell, a man named George Pike, lived in one of the houses near the +station, and besides attending to his duties for the railroad company, +owned and worked a small farm. He was a slender, alert, silent man with +a long drooping mustache. Both he and his wife worked as Hugh had never +seen a man and woman work before. Their arrangement of the division of +labor was not based on sex but on convenience. Sometimes Mrs. Pike came +to the station to sell tickets, load express boxes and trunks on the +passenger trains and deliver heavy boxes of freight to draymen and +farmers, while her husband worked in the fields back of his house or +prepared the evening meal, and sometimes the matter was reversed and +Hugh did not see Mrs. Pike for several days at a time. + +During the day there was little for the station agent or his wife to do +at the station and they disappeared. George Pike had made an arrangement +of wires and pulleys connecting the station with a large bell hung on +top of his house, and when some one came to the station to receive or +deliver freight Hugh pulled at the wire and the bell began to ring. In +a few minutes either George Pike or his wife came running from the house +or fields, dispatched the business and went quickly away again. + +Day after day Hugh sat in a chair by a desk in the station or went +outside and walked up and down the station platform. Engines pulling +long caravans of coal cars ground past. The brakemen waved their hands +to him and then the train disappeared into the grove of trees that +grew beside the creek along which the tracks of the road were laid. In +Turner's Pike a creaking farm wagon appeared and then disappeared along +the tree-lined road that led to Bidwell. The farmer turned on his wagon +seat to stare at Hugh but unlike the railroad men did not wave his hand. +Adventurous boys came out along the road from town and climbed, shouting +and laughing, over the rafters in the deserted pickle factory across the +tracks or went to fish in the creek in the shade of the factory walls. +Their shrill voices added to the loneliness of the spot. It became +almost unbearable to Hugh. In desperation he turned from the rather +meaningless doing of sums and working out of problems regarding the +number of fence pickets that could be cut from a tree or the number of +steel rails or railroad ties consumed in building a mile of railroad, +the innumerable petty problems with which he had been keeping his mind +busy, and turned to more definite and practical problems. He remembered +an autumn he had put in cutting corn on a farm in Illinois and, going +into the station, waved his long arms about, imitating the movements of +a man in the act of cutting corn. He wondered if a machine might not be +made that would do the work, and tried to make drawings of the parts of +such a machine. Feeling his inability to handle so difficult a problem +he sent away for books and began the study of mechanics. He joined a +correspondence school started by a man in Pennsylvania, and worked for +days on the problems the man sent him to do. He asked questions and +began a little to understand the mystery of the application of power. +Like the other young men of Bidwell he began to put himself into touch +with the spirit of the age, but unlike them he did not dream of suddenly +acquired wealth. While they embraced new and futile dreams he worked to +destroy the tendency to dreams in himself. + +Hugh came to Bidwell in the early spring and during May, June and July +the quiet station at Pickleville awoke for an hour or two each evening. +A certain percentage of the sudden and almost overwhelming increase in +express business that came with the ripening of the fruit and berry crop +came to the Wheeling, and every evening a dozen express trucks, piled +high with berry boxes, waited for the south bound train. When the train +came into the station a small crowd had assembled. George Pike and +his stout wife worked madly, throwing the boxes in at the door of the +express car. Idlers standing about became interested and lent a hand. +The engineer climbed out of his locomotive, stretched his legs and +crossing a narrow road got a drink from the pump in George Pike's yard. + +Hugh walked to the door of his telegraph office and standing in the +shadows watched the busy scene. He wanted to take part in it, to laugh +and talk with the men standing about, to go to the engineer and ask +questions regarding the locomotive and its construction, to help George +Pike and his wife, and perhaps cut through their silence and his own +enough to become acquainted with them. He thought of all these things +but stayed in the shadow of the door that led to the telegraph office +until, at a signal given by the train conductor, the engineer climbed +into his engine and the train began to move away into the evening +darkness. When Hugh came out of his office the station platform was +deserted again. In the grass across the tracks and beside the ghostly +looking old factory, crickets sang. Tom Wilder, the Bidwell hack driver, +had got a traveling man off the train and the dust left by the heels +of his team still hung in the air over Turner's Pike. From the darkness +that brooded over the trees that grew along the creek beyond the factory +came the hoarse croak of frogs. On Turner's Pike a half dozen Bidwell +young men accompanied by as many town girls walked along the path beside +the road under the trees. They had come to the station to have somewhere +to go, had made up a party to come, but now the half unconscious purpose +of their coming was apparent. The party split itself up into couples and +each strove to get as far away as possible from the others. One of the +couples came back along the path toward the station and went to the pump +in George Pike's yard. They stood by the pump, laughing and pretending +to drink out of a tin cup, and when they got again into the road the +others had disappeared. They became silent. Hugh went to the end of the +platform and watched as they walked slowly along. He became furiously +jealous of the young man who put his arm about the waist of his +companion and then, when he turned and saw Hugh staring at him, took it +away again. + +The telegraph operator went quickly along the platform until he was out +of range of the young man's eyes, and, when he thought the gathering +darkness would hide him, returned and crept along the path beside the +road after him. Again a hungry desire to enter into the lives of the +people about him took possession of the Missourian. To be a young man +dressed in a stiff white collar, wearing neatly made clothes, and in the +evening to walk about with young girls seemed like getting on the road +to happiness. He wanted to run shouting along the path beside the road +until he had overtaken the young man and woman, to beg them to take him +with them, to accept him as one of themselves, but when the momentary +impulse had passed and he returned to the telegraph office and lighted +a lamp, he looked at his long awkward body and could not conceive +of himself as ever by any chance becoming the thing he wanted to be. +Sadness swept over him and his gaunt face, already cut and marked with +deep lines, became longer and more gaunt. The old boyhood notion, put +into his mind by the words of his foster-mother, Sarah Shepard, that a +town and a people could remake him and erase from his body the marks +of what he thought of as his inferior birth, began to fade. He tried to +forget the people about him and turned with renewed energy to the study +of the problems in the books that now lay in a pile upon his desk. His +inclination to dreams, balked by the persistent holding of his mind to +definite things, began to reassert itself in a new form, and his brain +played no more with pictures of clouds and men in agitated movement but +took hold of steel, wood, and iron. Dumb masses of materials taken out +of the earth and the forests were molded by his mind into fantastic +shapes. As he sat in the telegraph office during the day or walked alone +through the streets of Bidwell at night, he saw in fancy a thousand new +machines, formed by his hands and brain, doing the work that had been +done by the hands of men. He had come to Bidwell, not only in the hope +that there he would at last find companionship, but also because his +mind was really aroused and he wanted leisure to begin trying to do +tangible things. When the citizens of Bidwell would not take him into +their town life but left him standing to one side, as the tiny dwelling +place for men called Pickleville where he lived stood aside out from +under the invisible roof of the town, he decided to try to forget men +and to express himself wholly in work. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Hugh's first inventive effort stirred the town of Bidwell deeply. When +word of it ran about, the men who had been listening to the talk of +Judge Horace Hanby and whose minds had turned toward the arrival of the +new forward-pushing impulse in American life thought they saw in Hugh +the instrument of its coming to Bidwell. From the day of his coming to +live among them, there had been much curiosity in the stores and houses +regarding the tall, gaunt, slow-speaking stranger at Pickleville. George +Pike had told Birdie Spinks the druggist how Hugh worked all day over +books, and how he made drawings for parts of mysterious machines and +left them on his desk in the telegraph office. Birdie Spinks told others +and the tale grew. When Hugh walked alone in the streets during the +evening and thought no one took account of his presence, hundreds of +pairs of curious eyes followed him about. + +A tradition in regard to the telegraph operator began to grow up. The +tradition made Hugh a gigantic figure, one who walked always on a plane +above that on which other men lived. In the imagination of his fellow +citizens of the Ohio town, he went about always thinking great thoughts, +solving mysterious and intricate problems that had to do with the new +mechanical age Judge Hanby talked about to the eager listeners in the +drug-store. An alert, talkative people saw among them one who could not +talk and whose long face was habitually serious, and could not think +of him as having daily to face the same kind of minor problems as +themselves. + +The Bidwell young man who had come down to the Wheeling station with a +group of other young men, who had seen the evening train go away to +the south, who had met at the station one of the town girls and had, in +order to escape the others and be alone with her, taken her to the pump +in George Pike's yard on the pretense of wanting a drink, walked away +with her into the darkness of the summer evening with his mind fixed +on Hugh. The young man's name was Ed Hall and he was apprentice to Ben +Peeler, the carpenter who had sent his son to Cleveland to a technical +school. He wanted to marry the girl he had met at the station and +did not see how he could manage it on his salary as a carpenter's +apprentice. When he looked back and saw Hugh standing on the station +platform, he took the arm he had put around the girl's waist quickly +away and began to talk. "I'll tell you what," he said earnestly, "if +things don't pretty soon get on the stir around here I'm going to get +out. I'll go over by Gibsonburg and get a job in the oil fields, that's +what I'll do. I got to have more money." He sighed heavily and looked +over the girl's head into the darkness. "They say that telegraph fellow +back there at the station is up to something," he ventured. "It's all +the talk. Birdie Spinks says he is an inventor; says George Pike told +him; says he is working all the time on new inventions to do things by +machinery; that his passing off as a telegraph operator is only a bluff. +Some think maybe he was sent here to see about starting a factory to +make one of his inventions, sent by rich men maybe in Cleveland or some +other place. Everybody says they'll bet there'll be factories here in +Bidwell before very long now. I wish I knew. I don't want to go away if +I don't have to, but I got to have more money. Ben Peeler won't never +give me a raise so I can get married or nothing. I wish I knew that +fellow back there so I could ask him what's up. They say he's smart. I +suppose he wouldn't tell me nothing. I wish I was smart enough to invent +something and maybe get rich. I wish I was the kind of fellow they say +he is." + +Ed Hall again put his arm about the girl's waist and walked away. He +forgot Hugh and thought of himself and of how he wanted to marry the +girl whose young body nestled close to his own--wanted her to be utterly +his. For a few hours he passed out of Hugh's growing sphere of influence +on the collective thought of the town, and lost himself in the immediate +deliciousness of kisses. + +And as he passed out of Hugh's influence others came in. On Main Street +in the evening every one speculated on the Missourian's purpose in +coming to Bidwell. The forty dollars a month paid him by the Wheeling +railroad could not have tempted such a man. They were sure of that. +Steve Hunter the jeweler's son had returned to town from a course in +a business college at Buffalo, New York, and hearing the talk became +interested. Steve had in him the making of a live man of affairs, and +he decided to investigate. It was not, however, Steve's method to go +at things directly, and he was impressed by the notion, then abroad in +Bidwell, that Hugh had been sent to town by some one, perhaps by a group +of capitalists who intended to start factories there. + +Steve thought he would go easy. In Buffalo, where he had gone to the +business college, he had met a girl whose father, E. P. Horn, owned +a soap factory; had become acquainted with her at church and had been +introduced to her father. The soap maker, an assertive positive man who +manufactured a product called Horn's Household Friend Soap, had his own +notion of what a young man should be and how he should make his way +in the world, and had taken pleasure in talking to Steve. He told the +Bidwell jeweler's son of how he had started his own factory with but +little money and had succeeded and gave Steve many practical hints on +the organization of companies. He talked a great deal of a thing called +"control." "When you get ready to start for yourself keep that in mind," +he said. "You can sell stock and borrow money at the bank, all you can +get, but don't give up control. Hang on to that. That's the way I made +my success. I always kept the control." + +Steve wanted to marry Ernestine Horn, but felt that he should show what +he could do as a business man before he attempted to thrust himself into +so wealthy and prominent a family. When he returned to his own town +and heard the talk regarding Hugh McVey and his inventive genius, he +remembered the soap maker's words regarding control, and repeated them +to himself. One evening he walked along Turner's Pike and stood in the +darkness by the old pickle factory. He saw Hugh at work under a lamp in +the telegraph office and was impressed. "I'll lay low and see what +he's up to," he told himself. "If he's got an invention, I'll get up a +company. I'll get money in and I'll start a factory. The people here'll +tumble over each other to get into a thing like that. I don't believe +any one sent him here. I'll bet he's just an inventor. That kind always +are queer. I'll keep my mouth shut and watch my chance. If there is +anything starts, I'll start it and I'll get into control, that's what +I'll do, I'll get into control." + + * * * * * + +In the country stretching away north beyond the fringe of small berry +farms lying directly about town, were other and larger farms. The land +that made up these larger farms was also rich and raised big crops. +Great stretches of it were planted to cabbage for which a market had +been built up in Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. Bidwell was +often in derision called Cabbageville by the citizens of nearby towns. +One of the largest of the cabbage farms belonged to a man named Ezra +French, and was situated on Turner's Pike, two miles from town and a +mile beyond the Wheeling station. + +On spring evenings when it was dark and silent about the station +and when the air was heavy with the smell of new growth and of land +fresh-turned by the plow, Hugh got out of his chair in the telegraph +office and walked in the soft darkness. He went along Turner's Pike to +town, saw groups of men standing on the sidewalks before the stores and +young girls walking arm in arm along the street, and then came back to +the silent station. Into his long and habitually cold body the warmth +of desire began to creep. The spring rains came and soft winds blew down +from the hill country to the south. One evening when the moon shone he +went around the old pickle factory to where the creek went chattering +under leaning willow trees, and as he stood in the heavy shadows by the +factory wall, tried to imagine himself as one who had become suddenly +clean-limbed, graceful, and agile. A bush grew beside the stream near +the factory and he took hold of it with his powerful hands and tore it +out by the roots. For a moment the strength in his shoulders and arms +gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. He thought of how powerfully +he could hold the body of a woman against his body and the spark of the +fires of spring that had touched him became a flame. He felt new-made +and tried to leap lightly and gracefully across the stream, but stumbled +and fell in the water. Later he went soberly back to the station and +tried again to lose himself in the study of the problems he had found in +his books. + +The Ezra French farm lay beside Turner's Pike a mile north of the +Wheeling station and contained two hundred acres of land of which a +large part was planted to cabbages. It was a profitable crop to raise +and required no more care than corn, but the planting was a terrible +task. Thousands of plants that had been raised from seeds planted in a +seed-bed back of the barn had to be laboriously transplanted. The plants +were tender and it was necessary to handle them carefully. The planter +crawled slowly and painfully along, and from the road looked like a +wounded beast striving to make his way to a hole in a distant wood. He +crawled forward a little and then stopped and hunched himself up into +a ball-like mass. Taking the plant, dropped on the ground by one of +the plant droppers, he made a hole in the soft ground with a small +three-cornered hoe, and with his hands packed the earth about the plant +roots. Then he crawled on again. + +Ezra the cabbage farmer had come west from one of the New England states +and had grown comfortably wealthy, but he would not employ extra labor +for the plant setting and the work was done by his sons and daughters. +He was a short, bearded man whose leg had been broken in his youth by a +fall from the loft of a barn. As it had not mended properly he could +do little work and limped painfully about. To the men of Bidwell he was +known as something of a wit, and in the winter he went to town every +afternoon to stand in the stores and tell the Rabelaisian stories for +which he was famous; but when spring came he became restlessly active, +and in his own house and on the farm, became a tyrant. During the time +of the cabbage setting he drove his sons and daughters like slaves. +When in the evening the moon came up, he made them go back to the fields +immediately after supper and work until midnight. They went in sullen +silence, the girls to limp slowly along dropping the plants out of +baskets carried on their arms, and the boys to crawl after them and set +the plants. In the half darkness the little group of humans went slowly +up and down the long fields. Ezra hitched a horse to a wagon and brought +the plants from the seed-bed behind the barn. He went here and there +swearing and protesting against every delay in the work. When his wife, +a tired little old woman, had finished the evening's work in the house, +he made her come also to the fields. "Come, come," he said, sharply, "we +need every pair of hands we can get." Although he had several thousand +dollars in the Bidwell bank and owned mortgages on two or three +neighboring farms, Ezra was afraid of poverty, and to keep his family at +work pretended to be upon the point of losing all his possessions. "Now +is our chance to save ourselves," he declared. "We must get in a big +crop. If we do not work hard now we'll starve." When in the field his +sons found themselves unable to crawl longer without resting, and stood +up to stretch their tired bodies, he stood by the fence at the field's +edge and swore. "Well, look at the mouths I have to feed, you lazies!" +he shouted. "Keep at the work. Don't be idling around. In two weeks +it'll be too late for planting and then you can rest. Now every plant +we set will help to save us from ruin. Keep at the job. Don't be idling +around." + +In the spring of his second year in Bidwell, Hugh went often in the +evening to watch the plant setters at work in the moonlight on the +French farm. He did not make his presence known but hid himself in +a fence corner behind bushes and watched the workers. As he saw the +stooped misshapen figures crawling slowly along and heard the words of +the old man driving them like cattle, his heart was deeply touched and +he wanted to protest. In the dim light the slowly moving figures of +women appeared, and after them came the crouched crawling men. They +came down the long row toward him, wriggling into his line of sight like +grotesquely misshapen animals driven by some god of the night to the +performance of a terrible task. An arm went up. It came down again +swiftly. The three-cornered hoe sank into the ground. The slow rhythm +of the crawler was broken. He reached with his disengaged hand for the +plant that lay on the ground before him and lowered it into the hole the +hoe had made. With his fingers he packed the earth about the roots of +the plant and then again began the slow crawl forward. There were four +of the French boys and the two older ones worked in silence. The younger +boys complained. The three girls and their mother, who were attending +to the plant dropping, came to the end of the row and turning, went away +into the darkness. "I'm going to quit this slavery," one of the younger +boys said. "I'll get a job over in town. I hope it's true what they say, +that factories are coming." + +The four young men came to the end of the row and, as Ezra was not in +sight, stood a moment by the fence near where Hugh was concealed. "I'd +rather be a horse or a cow than what I am," the complaining voice went +on. "What's the good being alive if you have to work like this?" + +For a moment as he listened to the voices of the complaining workers, +Hugh wanted to go to them and ask them to let him share in their labor. +Then another thought came. The crawling figures came sharply into his +line of vision. He no longer heard the voice of the youngest of the +French boys that seemed to come out of the ground. The machine-like +swing of the bodies of the plant setters suggested vaguely to his mind +the possibility of building a machine that would do the work they were +doing. His mind took eager hold of that thought and he was relieved. +There had been something in the crawling figures and in the moonlight +out of which the voices came that had begun to awaken in his mind the +fluttering, dreamy state in which he had spent so much of his boyhood. +To think of the possibility of building a plant-setting machine was +safer. It fitted into what Sarah Shepard had so often told him was the +safe way of life. As he went back through the darkness to the railroad +station, he thought about the matter and decided that to become an +inventor would be the sure way of placing his feet at last upon the path +of progress he was trying to find. + +Hugh became absorbed in the notion of inventing a machine that would +do the work he had seen the men doing in the field. All day he thought +about it. The notion once fixed in his mind gave him something tangible +to work upon. In the study of mechanics, taken up in a purely +amateur spirit, he had not gone far enough to feel himself capable of +undertaking the actual construction of such a machine, but thought +the difficulty might be overcome by patience and by experimenting with +combinations of wheels, gears and levers whittled out of pieces of wood. +From Hunter's Jewelry Store he got a cheap clock and spent days +taking it apart and putting it together again. He dropped the doing +of mathematical problems and sent away for books describing the +construction of machines. Already the flood of new inventions, that was +so completely to change the methods of cultivating the soil in America, +had begun to spread over the country, and many new and strange kinds +of agricultural implements arrived at the Bidwell freight house of +the Wheeling railroad. There Hugh saw a harvesting machine for cutting +grain, a mowing machine for cutting hay and a long-nosed strange-looking +implement that was intended to root potatoes out of the ground very much +after the method pursued by energetic pigs. He studied these carefully. +For a time his mind turned away from the hunger for human contact and +he was content to remain an isolated figure, absorbed in the workings of +his own awakening mind. + +An absurd and amusing thing happened. After the impulse to try to invent +a plant-setting machine came to him, he went every evening to conceal +himself in the fence corner and watch the French family at their labors. +Absorbed in watching the mechanical movements of the men who crawled +across the fields in the moonlight, he forgot they were human. After +he had watched them crawl into sight, turn at the end of the rows, and +crawl away again into the hazy light that had reminded him of the dim +distances of his own Mississippi River country, he was seized with +a desire to crawl after them and to try to imitate their movements. +Certain intricate mechanical problems, that had already come into his +mind in connection with the proposed machine, he thought could be better +understood if he could get the movements necessary to plant setting +into his own body. His lips began to mutter words and getting out of the +fence corner where he had been concealed he began to crawl across the +field behind the French boys. "The down stroke will go so," he muttered, +and bringing up his arm swung it above his head. His fist descended into +the soft ground. He had forgotten the rows of new set plants and crawled +directly over them, crushing them into the soft ground. He stopped +crawling and waved his arm about. He tried to relate his arms to the +mechanical arms of the machine that was being created in his mind. +Holding one arm stiffly in front of him he moved it up and down. "The +stroke will be shorter than that. The machine must be built close to the +ground. The wheels and the horses will travel in paths between the +rows. The wheels must be broad to provide traction. I will gear from the +wheels to get power for the operation of the mechanism," he said aloud. + +Hugh arose and stood in the moonlight in the cabbage field, his arms +still going stiffly up and down. The great length of his figure and +his arms was accentuated by the wavering uncertain light. The laborers, +aware of some strange presence, sprang to their feet and stood listening +and looking. Hugh advanced toward them, still muttering words and +waving his arms. Terror took hold of the workers. One of the woman plant +droppers screamed and ran away across the field, and the others ran +crying at her heels. "Don't do it. Go away," the older of the French +boys shouted, and then he with his brothers also ran. + +Hearing the voices Hugh stopped and stared about. The field was empty. +Again he lost himself in his mechanical calculations. He went back along +the road to the Wheeling station and to the telegraph office where he +worked half the night on a rude drawing he was trying to make of the +parts of his plant setting machine, oblivious to the fact that he had +created a myth that would run through the whole countryside. The French +boys and their sisters stoutly declared that a ghost had come into the +cabbage fields and had threatened them with death if they did not go +away and quit working at night. In a trembling voice their mother backed +up their assertion. Ezra French, who had not seen the apparition and did +not believe the tale, scented a revolution. He swore. He threatened the +entire family with starvation. He declared that a lie had been invented +to deceive and betray him. + +However, the work at night in the cabbage fields on the French farm was +at an end. The story was told in the town of Bidwell, and as the entire +French family except Ezra swore to its truth, was generally believed. +Tom Foresby, an old citizen who was a spiritualist, claimed to have +heard his father say that there had been in early days an Indian +burying-ground on the Turner Pike. + +The cabbage field on the French farm became locally famous. Within +a year two other men declared they had seen the figure of a gigantic +Indian dancing and singing a funeral dirge in the moonlight. Farmer +boys, who had been for an evening in town and were returning late at +night to lonely farmhouses, whipped their horses into a run when they +came to the farm. When it was far behind them they breathed more freely. +Although he continued to swear and threaten, Ezra never again succeeded +in getting his family into the fields at night. In Bidwell he declared +that the story of the ghost invented by his lazy sons and daughters had +ruined his chance for making a decent living out of his farm. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Steve Hunter decided that it was time something was done to wake up his +native town. The call of the spring wind awoke something in him as in +Hugh. It came up from the south bringing rain followed by warm fair +days. Robins hopped about on the lawns before the houses on the +residence streets of Bidwell, and the air was again sweet with the +pregnant sweetness of new-plowed ground. Like Hugh, Steve walked about +alone through the dark, dimly lighted residence streets during the +spring evenings, but he did not try awkwardly to leap over creeks in +the darkness or pull bushes out of the ground, nor did he waste his time +dreaming of being physically young, clean-limbed and beautiful. + +Before the coming of his great achievements in the industrial field, +Steve had not been highly regarded in his home town. He had been a noisy +boastful youth and had been spoiled by his father. When he was twelve +years old what were called safety bicycles first came into use and for +a long time he owned the only one in town. In the evening he rode it up +and down Main Street, frightening the horses and arousing the envy +of the town boys. He learned to ride without putting his hands on the +handle-bars and the other boys began to call him Smarty Hunter and +later, because he wore a stiff, white collar that folded down over his +shoulders, they gave him a girl's name. "Hello, Susan," they shouted, +"don't fall and muss your clothes." + +In the spring that marked the beginning of his great industrial +adventure, Steve was stirred by the soft spring winds into dreaming his +own kind of dreams. As he walked about through the streets, avoiding the +other young men and women, he remembered Ernestine, the daughter of the +Buffalo soap maker, and thought a great deal about the magnificence of +the big stone house in which she lived with her father. His body ached +for her, but that was a matter he felt could be managed. How he could +achieve a financial position that would make it possible for him to ask +for her hand was a more difficult problem. Since he had come back from +the business college to live in his home town, he had secretly, and at +the cost of two new five dollar dresses, arranged a physical alliance +with a girl named Louise Trucker whose father was a farm laborer, +and that left his mind free for other things. He intended to become a +manufacturer, the first one in Bidwell, to make himself a leader in the +new movement that was sweeping over the country. He had thought out +what he wanted to do and it only remained to find something for him to +manufacture to put his plans through. First of all he had selected with +great care certain men he intended to ask to go in with him. There was +John Clark the banker, his own father, E. H. Hunter the town jeweler, +Thomas Butterworth the rich farmer, and young Gordon Hart, who had a job +as assistant cashier in the bank. For a month he had been dropping hints +to these men of something mysterious and important about to happen. With +the exception of his father who had infinite faith in the shrewdness and +ability of his son, the men he wanted to impress were only amused. One +day Thomas Butterworth went into the bank and stood talking the matter +over with John Clark. "The young squirt was always a Smart-Aleck and +a blow-hard," he said. "What's he up to now? What's he nudging and +whispering about?" + +As he walked in the main street of Bidwell, Steve began to acquire +that air of superiority that later made him so respected and feared. He +hurried along with a peculiarly intense absorbed look in his eyes. He +saw his fellow townsmen as through a haze, and sometimes did not see +them at all. As he went along he took papers from his pocket, read +them hurriedly, and then quickly put them away again. When he did +speak--perhaps to a man who had known him from boyhood--there was in his +manner something gracious to the edge of condescension. One morning in +March he met Zebe Wilson the town shoemaker on the sidewalk before the +post-office. Steve stopped and smiled. "Well, good morning, Mr. Wilson," +he said, "and how is the quality of leather you are getting from the +tanneries now?" + +Word regarding this strange salutation ran about among the merchants +and artisans. "What's he up to now?" they asked each other. "Mr. Wilson, +indeed! Now what's wrong between that young squirt and Zebe Wilson?" + +In the afternoon, four clerks from the Main Street stores and Ed Hall +the carpenter's apprentice, who had a half day off because of rain, +decided to investigate. One by one they went along Hamilton Street +to Zebe Wilson's shop and stepped inside to repeat Steve Hunter's +salutation. "Well, good afternoon, Mr. Wilson," they said, "and how is +the quality of leather you are getting from the tanneries now?" Ed Hall, +the last of the five who went into the shop to repeat the formal and +polite inquiry, barely escaped with his life. Zebe Wilson threw a +shoemaker's hammer at him and it went through the glass in the upper +part of the shop door. + +Once when Tom Butterworth and John Clark the banker were talking of the +new air of importance he was assuming, and half indignantly speculated +on what he meant by his whispered suggestion of something significant +about to happen, Steve came along Main Street past the front door of the +bank. John Clark called him in. The three men confronted each other and +the jeweler's son sensed the fact that the banker and the rich farmer +were amused by his pretensions. At once he proved himself to be what +all Bidwell later acknowledged him to be, a man who could handle men +and affairs. Having at that time nothing to support his pretensions he +decided to put up a bluff. With a wave of his hand and an air of knowing +just what he was about, he led the two men into the back room of the +bank and shut the door leading into the large room to which the general +public was admitted. "You would have thought he owned the place," John +Clark afterward said with a note of admiration in his voice to young +Gordon Hart when he described what took place in the back room. + +Steve plunged at once into what he had to say to the two solid moneyed +citizens of his town. "Well, now, look here, you two," he began +earnestly. "I'm going to tell you something, but you got to keep still." +He went to the window that looked out upon an alleyway and glanced about +as though fearful of being overheard, then sat down in the chair usually +occupied by John Clark on the rare occasions when the directors of the +Bidwell bank held a meeting. Steve looked over the heads of the two men +who in spite of themselves were beginning to be impressed. "Well," +he began, "there is a fellow out at Pickleville. You have maybe heard +things said about him. He's telegraph operator out there. Perhaps you +have heard how he is always making drawings of parts of machines. I +guess everybody in town has been wondering what he's up to." + +Steve looked at the two men and then got nervously out of the chair +and walked about the room. "That fellow is my man. I put him there," he +declared. "I didn't want to tell any one yet." + +The two men nodded and Steve became lost in the notion created in his +fancy. It did not occur to him that what he had just said was untrue. +He began to scold the two men. "Well, I suppose I'm on the wrong track +there," he said. "My man has made an invention that will bring millions +in profits to those who get into it. In Cleveland and Buffalo I'm +already in touch with big bankers. There's to be a big factory built, +but you see yourself how it is, here I'm at home. I was raised as a boy +here." + +The excited young man plunged into an exposition of the spirit of the +new times. He grew bold and scolded the older men. "You know yourself +that factories are springing up everywhere, in towns all over the +State," he said. "Will Bidwell wake up? Will we have factories here? You +know well enough we won't, and I know why. It's because a man like me +who was raised here has to go to a city to get money to back his plans. +If I talked to you fellows you would laugh at me. In a few years I might +make you more money than you have made in your whole lives, but what's +the use talking? I'm Steve Hunter; you knew me when I was a kid. You'd +laugh. What's the use my trying to tell you fellows my plans?" + +Steve turned as though to go out of the room, but Tom Butterworth took +hold of his arm and led him back to a chair. "Now, you tell us what +you're up to," he demanded. In turn he grew indignant. "If you've got +something to manufacture you can get backing here as well as any place," +he said. He became convinced that the jeweler's son was telling the +truth. It did not occur to him that a Bidwell young man would dare lie +to such solid men as John Clark and himself. "You let them city bankers +alone," he said emphatically. "You tell us your story. What you got to +tell?" + +In the silent little room the three men stared at each other. Tom +Butterworth and John Clark in their turn began to have dreams. They +remembered the tales they had heard of vast fortunes made quickly by men +who owned new and valuable inventions. The land was at that time full of +such tales. They were blown about on every wind. Quickly they realized +that they had made a mistake in their attitude toward Steve, and were +anxious to win his regard. They had called him into the bank to bully +him and to laugh at him. Now they were sorry. As for Steve, he only +wanted to get away--to get by himself and think. An injured look crept +over his face. "Well," he said, "I thought I'd give Bidwell a chance. +There are three or four men here. I have spoken to all of you and +dropped a hint of something in the wind, but I'm not ready to be very +definite yet." + +Seeing the new look of respect in the eyes of the two men Steve +became bold. "I was going to call a meeting when I was ready," he said +pompously. "You two do what I've been doing. You keep your mouths shut. +Don't go near that telegraph operator and don't talk to a soul. If you +mean business I'll give you a chance to make barrels of money, more'n +you ever dreamed of, but don't be in a hurry." He took a bundle of +letters out of his inside coat pocket, and beat with them on the edge +of the table that occupied the center of the room. Another bold thought +came into his mind. + +"I've got letters here offering me big money to take my factory either +to Cleveland or Buffalo," he declared emphatically. "It isn't money +that's hard to get. I can tell you men that. What a man wants in his +home town is respect. He don't want to be looked on as a fool because he +tries to do something to rise in the world." + + * * * * * + +Steve walked boldly out of the bank and into Main Street. When he had +got out of the presence of the two men he was frightened. "Well, I've +done it. I've made a fool of myself," he muttered aloud. In the bank he +had said that Hugh McVey the telegraph operator was his man, that he had +brought the fellow to Bidwell. What a fool he had been. In his anxiety +to impress the two older men he had told a story, the falsehood of which +could be discovered in a few minutes. Why had he not kept his dignity +and waited? There had been no occasion for being so definite. He had +gone too far, had been carried away. To be sure he had told the two men +not to go near the telegraph operator, but that would no doubt but serve +to arouse their suspicions of the thinness of his story. They would talk +the matter over and start an investigation of their own. Then they would +find out he had lied. He imagined the two men as already engaged in a +whispered conversation regarding the probability of his tale. Like most +shrewd men he had an exalted notion regarding the shrewdness of others. +He walked a little away from the bank and then turned to look back. A +shiver ran over his body. Into his mind came the sickening fear that the +telegraph operator at Pickleville was not an inventor at all. The town +was full of tales, and in the bank he had taken advantage of that fact +to make an impression; but what proof had he? No one had seen one of the +inventions supposed to have been worked out by the mysterious +stranger from Missouri. There had after all been nothing but whispered +suspicions, old wives' tales, fables invented by men who had nothing to +do but loaf in the drug-store and make up stories. + +The thought that Hugh McVey might not be an inventor overpowered him and +he put it quickly aside. He had something more immediate to think about. +The story of the bluff he had just made in the bank would be found out +and the whole town would rock with laughter at his expense. The young +men of the town did not like him. They would roll the story over on +their tongues. Ribald old fellows who had nothing else to do would take +up the story with joy and would elaborate it. Fellows like the cabbage +farmer, Ezra French, who had a talent for saying cutting things would +exercise it. They would make up imaginary inventions, grotesque, absurd +inventions. Then they would get young fellows to come to him and propose +that he take them up, promote them, and make every one rich. Men would +shout jokes at him as he went along Main Street. His dignity would be +gone forever. He would be made a fool of by the very school boys as +he had been in his youth when he bought the bicycle and rode it about +before the eyes of other boys in the evenings. + +Steve hurried out of Main Street and went over the bridge that crossed +the river into Turner's Pike. He did not know what he intended to do, +but felt there was much at stake and that he would have to do something +at once. It was a warm, cloudy day and the road that led to Pickleville +was muddy. During the night before it had rained and more rain was +promised. The path beside the road was slippery, and so absorbed was he +that as he plunged along, his feet slipped out from under him and he +sat down in a small pool of water. A farmer driving past along the road +turned to laugh at him. "You go to hell," Steve shouted. "You just mind +your own business and go to hell." + +The distracted young man tried to walk sedately along the path. The long +grass that grew beside the path wet his shoes, and his hands were wet +and muddy. Farmers turned on their wagon seats to stare at him. For some +obscure reason he could not himself understand, he was terribly afraid +to face Hugh McVey. In the bank he had been in the presence of men who +were trying to get the best of him, to make a fool of him, to have fun +at his expense. He had felt that and had resented it. The knowledge had +given him a certain kind of boldness; it had enabled his mind to make up +the story of the inventor secretly employed at his own expense and the +city bankers anxious to furnish him capital. Although he was terribly +afraid of discovery, he felt a little glow of pride at the thought of +the boldness with which he had taken the letters out of his pocket and +had challenged the two men to call his bluff. + +Steve, however, felt there was something different about the man in +the telegraph office in Pickleville. He had been in town for nearly +two years and no one knew anything about him. His silence might be +indicative of anything. He was afraid the tall silent Missourian might +decide to have nothing to do with him, and pictured himself as being +brushed rudely aside, being told to mind his own business. + +Steve knew instinctively how to handle business men. One simply created +the notion of money to be made without effort. He had done that to the +two men in the bank and it had worked. After all he had succeeded in +making them respect him. He had handled the situation. He wasn't such +a fool at that kind of a thing. The other thing he had to face might be +very different. Perhaps after all Hugh McVey was a big inventor, a +man with a powerful creative mind. It was possible he had been sent +to Bidwell by a big business man of some city. Big business men did +strange, mysterious things; they put wires out in all directions, +controlled a thousand little avenues for the creation of wealth. + +Just starting out on his own career as a man of affairs, Steve had an +overpowering respect for what he thought of as the subtlety of men of +affairs. With all the other American youths of his generation he had +been swept off his feet by the propaganda that then went on and is +still going on, and that is meant to create the illusion of greatness +in connection with the ownership of money. He did not then know and, in +spite of his own later success and his own later use of the machinery +by which illusion is created, he never found out that in an industrial +world reputations for greatness of mind are made as a Detroit +manufacturer would make automobiles. He did not know that men are +employed to bring up the name of a politician so that he may be called +a statesman, as a new brand of breakfast food that it may be sold; that +most modern great men are mere illusions sprung out of a national hunger +for greatness. Some day a wise man, one who has not read too many books +but who has gone about among men, will discover and set forth a very +interesting thing about America. The land is vast and there is a +national hunger for vastness in individuals. One wants an Illinois-sized +man for Illinois, an Ohio-sized man for Ohio, and a Texas-sized man for +Texas. + +To be sure, Steve Hunter had no notion of all this. He never did get a +notion of it. The men he had already begun to think of as great and to +try to imitate were like the strange and gigantic protuberances that +sometimes grow on the side of unhealthy trees, but he did not know it. +He did not know that throughout the country, even in that early day, a +system was being built up to create the myth of greatness. At the seat +of the American Government at Washington, hordes of somewhat clever +and altogether unhealthy young men were already being employed for the +purpose. In a sweeter age many of these young men might have become +artists, but they had not been strong enough to stand against the +growing strength of dollars. They had become instead newspaper +correspondents and secretaries to politicians. All day and every day +they used their minds and their talents as writers in the making of +puffs and the creating of myths concerning the men by whom they were +employed. They were like the trained sheep that are used at great +slaughter-houses to lead other sheep into the killing pens. Having +befouled their own minds for hire, they made their living by befouling +the minds of others. Already they had found out that no great cleverness +was required for the work they had to do. What was required was constant +repetition. It was only necessary to say over and over that the man +by whom they were employed was a great man. No proof had to be brought +forward to substantiate the claims they made; no great deeds had to +be done by the men who were thus made great, as brands of crackers or +breakfast food are made salable. Stupid and prolonged and insistent +repetition was what was necessary. + +As the politicians of the industrial age have created a myth about +themselves, so also have the owners of dollars, the big bankers, the +railroad manipulators, the promoters of industrial enterprise. The +impulse to do so is partly sprung from shrewdness but for the most part +it is due to a hunger within to be of some real moment in the world. +Knowing that the talent that had made them rich is but a secondary +talent, and being a little worried about the matter, they employ men to +glorify it. Having employed a man for the purpose, they are themselves +children enough to believe the myth they have paid money to have +created. Every rich man in the country unconsciously hates his press +agent. + +Although he had never read a book, Steve was a constant reader of the +newspapers and had been deeply impressed by the stories he had read +regarding the shrewdness and ability of the American captains of +industry. To him they were supermen and he would have crawled on his +knees before a Gould or a Cal Price--the commanding figures among +moneyed men of that day. As he went down along Turner's Pike that day +when industry was born in Bidwell, he thought of these men and of lesser +rich men of Cleveland and Buffalo, and was afraid that in approaching +Hugh he might be coming into competition with one of these men. As he +hurried along under the gray sky, he however realized that the time +for action had come and that he must at once put the plans that he had +formed in his mind to the test of practicability; that he must at once +see Hugh McVey, find out if he really did have an invention that could +be manufactured, and if he did try to secure some kind of rights of +ownership over it. "If I do not act at once, either Tom Butterworth or +John Clark will get in ahead of me," he thought. He knew they were both +shrewd capable men. Had they not become well-to-do? Even during the talk +in the bank, when they had seemed to be impressed by his words, they +might well have been making plans to get the better of him. They would +act, but he must act first. + +Steve hadn't the courage of the lie he had told. He did not have +imagination enough to understand how powerful a thing is a lie. +He walked quickly along until he came to the Wheeling Station at +Pickleville, and then, not having the courage to confront Hugh at once, +went past the station and crept in behind the deserted pickle factory +that stood across the tracks. Through a broken window at the back he +climbed, and crept like a thief across the earth floor until he came +to a window that looked out upon the station. A freight train rumbled +slowly past and a farmer came to the station to get a load of goods +that had arrived by freight. George Pike came running from his house to +attend to the wants of the farmer. He went back to his house and Steve +was left alone in the presence of the man on whom he felt all of his +future depended. He was as excited as a village girl in the presence of +a lover. Through the windows of the telegraph office he could see +Hugh seated at a desk with a book before him. The presence of the book +frightened him. He decided that the mysterious Missourian must be some +strange sort of intellectual giant. He was sure that one who could sit +quietly reading hour after hour in such a lonely isolated place could +be of no ordinary clay. As he stood in the deep shadows inside the +old building and stared at the man he was trying to find courage to +approach, a citizen of Bidwell named Dick Spearsman came to the station +and going inside, talked to the telegraph operator. Steve trembled with +anxiety. The man who had come to the station was an insurance agent who +also owned a small berry farm at the edge of town. He had a son who had +gone west to take up land in the state of Kansas, and the father thought +of visiting him. He came to the station to make inquiry regarding the +railroad fare, but when Steve saw him talking to Hugh, the thought came +into his mind that John Clark or Thomas Butterworth might have sent him +to the station to make an investigation of the truth of the statements +he had made in the bank. "It would be like them to do it that way," he +muttered to himself. "They wouldn't come themselves. They would send +some one they thought I wouldn't suspect. They would play safe, damn +'em." + +Trembling with fear, Steve walked up and down in the empty factory. +Cobwebs hanging down brushed against his face and he jumped aside as +though a hand had reached out of the darkness to touch him. In the +corners of the old building shadows lurked and distorted thoughts +began to come into his head. He rolled and lighted a cigarette and then +remembered that the flare of the match could probably be seen from the +station. He cursed himself for his carelessness. Throwing the cigarette +on the earth floor he ground it under his heel. When at last Dick +Spearsman had disappeared up the road that led to Bidwell and he came +out of the old factory and got again into Turner's Pike, he felt that he +was in no shape to talk of business but nevertheless must act at once. +In front of the factory he stopped in the road and tried to wipe the mud +off the seat of his trousers with a handkerchief. Then he went to the +creek and washed his soiled hands. With wet hands he arranged his tie +and straightened the collar of his coat. He had an air of one about +to ask a woman to become his wife. Striving to look as important and +dignified as possible, he went along the station platform and into the +telegraph office to confront Hugh and to find out at once and finally +what fate the gods had in store for him. + + * * * * * + +It no doubt contributed to Steve's happiness in after life, in the +days when he was growing rich, and later when he reached out for public +honors, contributed to campaign funds, and even in secret dreamed of +getting into the United States Senate or being Governor of his state, +that he never knew how badly he overreached himself that day in his +youth when he made his first business deal with Hugh at the Wheeling +Station at Pickleville. Later Hugh's interest in the Steven Hunter +industrial enterprises was taken care of by a man who was as shrewd as +Steve himself. Tom Butterworth, who had made money and knew how to make +and handle money, managed such things for the inventor, and Steve's +chance was gone forever. + +That is, however, a part of the story of the development of the town +of Bidwell and a story that Steve never understood. When he overreached +himself that day he did not know what he had done. He made a deal with +Hugh and was happy to escape the predicament he thought he had got +himself into when he talked too much to the two men in the bank. + +Although Steve's father had always a great faith in his son's shrewdness +and when he talked to other men represented him as a peculiarly capable +and unappreciated man, the two did not in private get on well. In the +Hunter household they quarreled and snarled at each other. Steve's +mother had died when he was a small boy and his one sister, two years +older than himself, kept herself always in the house and seldom appeared +on the streets. She was a semi-invalid. Some obscure nervous disease had +twisted her body out of shape, and her face twitched incessantly. +One morning in the barn back of the Hunter house Steve, then a lad of +fourteen, was oiling his bicycle when his sister appeared and stood +watching him. A small wrench lay on the ground and she picked it up. +Suddenly and without warning she began to beat him on the head. He was +compelled to knock her down in order to tear the wrench out of her hand. +After the incident she was ill in bed for a month. + +Elsie Hunter was always a source of unhappiness to her brother. As he +began to get up in life Steve had a growing passion for being respected +by his fellows. It got to be something of an obsession with him and +among other things he wanted very much to be thought of as one who had +good blood in his veins. A man whom he hired searched out his +ancestry, and with the exception of his immediate family it seemed +very satisfactory. The sister, with her twisted body and her face that +twitched so persistently, seemed to be everlastingly sneering at him. He +grew half afraid to come into her presence. After he began to grow rich +he married Ernestine, the daughter of the soap maker at Buffalo, and +when her father died she also had a great deal of money. His own father +died and he set up a household of his own. That was in the time when big +houses began to appear at the edge of the berry lands and on the hills +south of Bidwell. On his father's death Steve became guardian for his +sister. The jeweler had left a small estate and it was entirely in the +son's hands. Elsie lived with one servant in a small house in town and +was put in the position of being entirely dependent on her brother's +bounty. In a sense it might be said that she lived by her hatred of him. +When on rare occasions he came to her house she would not see him. A +servant came to the door and reported her asleep. Almost every month she +wrote a letter demanding that her share of her father's money be +handed over to her, but it did no good. Steve occasionally spoke to an +acquaintance of his difficulty with her. "I am more sorry for the woman +than I can say," he declared. "It's the dream of my life to make the +poor afflicted soul happy. You see yourself that I provide her with +every comfort of life. Ours is an old family. I have it from an expert +in such matters that we are descendants of one Hunter, a courtier in the +court of Edward the Second of England. Our blood has perhaps become +a little thin. All the vitality of the family was centered in me. +My sister does not understand me and that has been the cause of much +unhappiness and heart burning, but I shall always do my duty by her." + +In the late afternoon of the spring day that was also the most eventful +day of his life, Steve went quickly along the Wheeling Station platform +to the door of the telegraph office. It was a public place, but before +going in he stopped, again straightened his tie and brushed his clothes, +and then knocked at the door. As there was no response he opened the +door softly and looked in. Hugh was at his desk but did not look up. +Steve went in and closed the door. By chance the moment of his entrance +was also a big moment in the life of the man he had come to see. +The mind of the young inventor, that had for so long been dreamy and +uncertain, had suddenly become extraordinarily clear and free. One of +the inspired moments that come to intense natures, working intensely, +had come to him. The mechanical problem he was trying so hard to work +out became clear. It was one of the moments that Hugh afterwards thought +of as justifying his existence, and in later life he came to live for +such moments. With a nod of his head to Steve he arose and hurried out +to the building that was used by the Wheeling as a freight warehouse. +The jeweler's son ran at his heels. On an elevated platform before the +freight warehouse sat an odd looking agricultural implement, a machine +for rooting potatoes out of the ground that had been received on the day +before and was now awaiting delivery to some farmer. Hugh dropped to his +knees beside the machine and examined it closely. Muttered exclamations +broke from his lips. For the first time in his life he was not +embarrassed in the presence of another person. The two men, the one +almost grotesquely tall, the other short of stature and already inclined +toward corpulency, stared at each other. "What is it you're inventing? I +came to see you about that," Steve said timidly. + +Hugh did not answer the question directly. He stepped across the narrow +platform to the freight warehouse and began to make a rude drawing on +the side of the building. Then he tried to explain his plant-setting +machine. He spoke of it as a thing already achieved. At the moment he +thought of it in that way. "I had not thought of the use of a +large wheel with the arms attached at regular intervals," he said +absent-mindedly. "I will have to find money now. That'll be the next +step. It will be necessary to make a working model of the machine now. I +must find out what changes I'll have to make in my calculations." + +The two men returned to the telegraph office and while Hugh listened +Steve made his proposal. Even then he did not understand what the +machine that was to be made was to do. It was enough for him that a +machine was to be made and he wanted to share in its ownership at once. +As the two men walked back from the freight warehouse, his mind took +hold of Hugh's remark about getting money. Again he was afraid. "There's +some one in the background," he thought. "Now I must make a proposal he +can't refuse. I mustn't leave until I've made a deal with him." + +Fairly carried away by his anxiety, Steve proposed to provide money out +of his own pocket to make the model of the machine. "We'll rent the old +pickle factory across the track," he said, opening the door and pointing +with a trembling finger. "I can get it cheap. I'll have windows and +a floor put in. Then I'll get you a man to whittle out a model of the +machine. Allie Mulberry can do it. I'll get him for you. He can whittle +anything if you only show him what you want. He's half crazy and won't +get on to our secret. When the model is made, leave it to me, you just +leave it to me." + +Rubbing his hands together Steve walked boldly to The telegrapher's +desk and picking up a sheet of paper began to write out a contract. It +provided that Hugh Was to get a royalty of ten per cent. of the selling +price on the machine he had invented and that was to be manufactured +by a company to be organized by Steven Hunter. The contract also stated +that a promoting company was to be organized at once and money provided +for the experimental work Hugh had yet to do. The Missourian was +to begin getting a salary at once. He was to risk nothing, as Steve +elaborately explained. When he was ready for them mechanics were to be +employed and their salaries paid. When the contract had been written and +read aloud, a copy was made and Hugh, who was again embarrassed beyond +words, signed his name. + +With a flourish of his hand Steve laid a little pile of money on the +desk. "That's for a starter," he said and turned to frown at George Pike +who at that moment came to the door. The freight agent went quickly away +and the two men were left alone together. Steve shook hands with his new +partner. He went out and then came in again. "You understand," he said +mysteriously. "The fifty dollars is your first month's salary. I was +ready for you. I brought it along. You just leave everything to me, just +you leave it to me." Again he went out and Hugh was left alone. He saw +the young man go across the tracks to the old factory and walk up and +down before it. When a farmer came along and shouted at him, he did not +reply, but stepping back into the road swept the deserted old building +with his eyes as a general might have looked over a battlefield. Then +he went briskly down the road toward town and the farmer turned on his +wagon seat to stare after him. + +Hugh McVey also stared. When Steve had gone away, he walked to the end +of the station platform and looked along the road toward town. It seemed +to him wonderful that he had at last held conversation with a citizen +of Bidwell. A little of the import of the contract he had signed came to +him, and he went into the station and got his copy of it and put it in +his pocket. Then he came out again. When he read it over and realized +anew that he was to be paid a living wage and have time and help to work +out the problem that had now become vastly important to his happiness, +it seemed to him that he had been in the presence of a kind of god. +He remembered the words of Sarah Shepard concerning the bright alert +citizens of eastern towns and realized that he had been in the presence +of such a being, that he had in some way become connected in his +new work with such a one. The realization overcame him completely. +Forgetting entirely his duties as a telegrapher, he closed the office +and went for a walk across the meadows and in the little patches of +woodlands that still remained standing in the open plain north of +Pickleville. He did not return until late at night, and when he did, had +not solved the puzzle as to what had happened. All he got out of it was +the fact that the machine he had been trying to make was of great and +mysterious importance to the civilization into which he had come to +live and of which he wanted so keenly to be a part. There seemed to him +something almost sacred in that fact. A new determination to complete +and perfect his plant-setting machine had taken possession of him. + + * * * * * + +The meeting to organize a promotion company that would in turn launch +the first industrial enterprise in the town of Bidwell was held in the +back room of the Bidwell bank one afternoon in June. The berry season +had just come to an end and the streets were full of people. A circus +had come to town and at one o'clock there was a parade. Before the +stores horses belonging to visiting country people stood hitched in two +long rows. The meeting in the bank was not held until four o'clock, +when the banking business was at an end for the day. It had been a hot, +stuffy afternoon and a storm threatened. For some reason the whole town +had an inkling of the fact that a meeting was to be held on that day, +and in spite of the excitement caused by the coming of the circus, it +was in everybody's mind. From the very beginning of his upward journey +in life, Steve Hunter had the faculty of throwing an air of mystery and +importance about everything he did. Every one saw the workings of the +machinery by which the myth concerning himself was created, but was +nevertheless impressed. Even the men of Bidwell who retained the ability +to laugh at Steve could not laugh at the things he did. + +For two months before the day on which the meeting was held, the town +had been on edge. Every one knew that Hugh McVey had suddenly given +up his place in the telegraph office and that he was engaged in some +enterprise with Steve Hunter. "Well, I see he has thrown off the mask, +that fellow," said Alban Foster, superintendent of the Bidwell schools, +in speaking of the matter to the Reverend Harvey Oxford, the minister of +the Baptist Church. + +Steve saw to it that although every one was curious the curiosity was +unsatisfied. Even his father was left in the dark. The two men had a +sharp quarrel about the matter, but as Steve had three thousand dollars +of his own, left him by his mother, and was well past his twenty-first +year, there was nothing his father could do. + +At Pickleville the windows and doors at the back of the deserted factory +were bricked up, and over the windows and the door at the front, where a +floor had been laid, iron bars specially made by Lew Twining the Bidwell +blacksmith had been put. The bars over the door locked the place at +night and gave the factory the air of a prison. Every evening before he +went to bed Steve walked to Pickleville. The sinister appearance of the +building at night gave him a peculiar satisfaction. "They'll find out +what I'm up to when I want 'em to," he said to himself. Allie Mulberry +worked at the factory during the day. Under Hugh's direction he whittled +pieces of wood into various shapes, but had no idea of what he was +doing. No one but the half-wit and Steve Hunter were admitted to the +society of the telegraph operator. When Allie Mulberry came into the +Main Street at night, every one stopped him and a thousand questions +were asked, but he only shook his head and smiled foolishly. On +Sunday afternoons crowds of men and women walked down Turner's Pike to +Pickleville and stood looking at the deserted building, but no one tried +to enter. The bars were in place and window shades were drawn over the +windows. Above the door that faced the road there was a large sign. +"Keep Out. This Means You," the sign said. + +The four men who met Steve in the bank knew vaguely that some sort of +invention was being perfected, but did not know what it was. They spoke +in an offhand way of the matter to their friends and that increased the +general curiosity. Every one tried to guess what was up. When Steve was +not about, John Clark and young Gordon Hart pretended to know everything +but gave the impression of men sworn to secrecy. The fact that Steve +told them nothing seemed to them a kind of insult. "The young upstart, +I believe yet he's a bluff," the banker declared to his friend, Tom +Butterworth. + +On Main Street the old and young men who stood about before the stores +in the evening tried also to make light of the jeweler's son and the air +of importance he constantly assumed. They also spoke of him as a young +upstart and a windbag, but after the beginning of his connection with +Hugh McVey, something of conviction went out of their voices. "I read +in the paper that a man in Toledo made thirty thousand dollars out of an +invention. He got it up in less than a day. He just thought of it. It's +a new kind of way for sealing fruit cans," a man in the crowd before +Birdie Spink's drug store absent-mindedly observed. + +Inside the drug store by the empty stove, Judge Hanby talked +persistently of the time when factories would come. He seemed to those +who listened a sort of John the Baptist crying out of the coming of +the new day. One evening in May of that year, when a goodly crowd was +assembled, Steve Hunter came in and bought a cigar. Every one became +silent. Birdie Spinks was for some mysterious reason a little upset. +In the store something happened that, had there been some one there to +record it, might later have been remembered as the moment that marked +the coming of the new age to Bidwell. The druggist, after he had handed +out the cigar, looked at the young man whose name had so suddenly come +upon every one's lips and whom he had known from babyhood, and then +addressed him as no young man of his age had ever before been addressed +by an older citizen of the town. "Well, good evening, Mr. Hunter," he +said respectfully. "And how do you find yourself this evening?" + +To the men who met him in the bank, Steve described the plant-setting +machine and the work it was intended to do. "It's the most perfect thing +of its kind I've ever seen," he said with the air of one who has spent +his life as an expert examiner of machinery. Then, to the amazement of +every one, he produced sheets covered with figures estimating the cost +of manufacturing the machine. To the men present it seemed as though +the question as to the practicability of the machine had already been +settled. The sheets covered with figures made the actual beginning of +manufacturing seem near at hand. Without raising his voice and quite as +a matter of course, Steve proposed that the men present subscribe each +three thousand dollars to the stock of a promotion company, the money +to be used to perfect the machine and put it actually to work in the +fields, while a larger company for the building of a factory was being +organized. For the three thousand dollars each of the men would receive +later six thousand dollars in stock in the larger company. They would +make one hundred per cent. on their first investment. As for himself he +owned the invention and it was very valuable. He had already received +many offers from other men in other places. He wanted to stick to his +own town and to the men who had known him since he was a boy. He would +retain a controlling interest in the larger company and that would +enable him to take care of his friends. John Clark he proposed to make +treasurer of the promotion company. Every one could see he would be the +right man. Gordon Hart should be manager. Tom Butterworth could, if he +could find time to give it, help him in the actual organization of the +larger company. He did not propose to do anything in a small way. Much +stock would have to be sold to farmers, as well as to townspeople, and +he could see no reason why a certain commission for the selling of stock +should not be paid. + +The four men came out of the back room of the bank just as the storm +that had all day been threatening broke on Main Street. They stood +together by the front window and watched the people skurry along past +the stores homeward-bound from the circus. Farmers jumping into their +wagons started their horses away on the trot. The whole street was +populous with people shouting and running. To an observing person +standing at the bank window, Bidwell, Ohio, might have seemed no longer +a quiet town filled with people who lived quiet lives and thought quiet +thoughts, but a tiny section of some giant modern city. The sky was +extraordinarily black as from the smoke of a mill. The hurrying people +might have been workmen escaping from the mill at the end of the day. +Clouds of dust swept through the street. Steve Hunter's imagination was +aroused. For some reason the black clouds of dust and the running people +gave him a tremendous sense of power. It almost seemed to him that he +had filled the sky with clouds and that something latent in him had +startled the people. He was anxious to get away from the men who had +just agreed to join him in his first great industrial adventure. He felt +that they were after all mere puppets, creatures he could use, men who +were being swept along by him as the people running along the streets +were being swept along by the storm. He and the storm were in a way akin +to each other. He had an impulse to be alone with the storm, to walk +dignified and upright in the face of it as he felt that in the future he +would walk dignified and upright in the face of men. + +Steve went out of the bank and into the street. The men inside shouted +at him, telling him he would get wet, but he paid no attention to their +warning. When he had gone and when his father had run quickly across +the street to his jewelry store, the three men who were left in the +bank looked at each other and laughed. Like the loiterers before Birdie +Spinks' drug-store, they wanted to belittle him and had an inclination +to begin calling him names; but for some reason they could not do +it. Something had happened to them. They looked at each other with a +question in their eyes. Each man waited for the others to speak. "Well, +whatever happens we can't lose much of anything," John Clark finally +observed. + +And over the bridge and out into Turner's Pike walked Steve Hunter, the +embryo industrial magnate. Across the great stretches of fields that +lay beside the road the wind ran furiously, tearing leaves off trees, +carrying great volumes of dust before it. The hurrying black clouds +in the sky were, he fancied, like clouds of smoke pouring out of the +chimneys of factories owned by himself. In fancy also he saw his town +become a city, bathed in the smoke of his enterprises. As he looked +abroad over the fields swept by the storm of wind, he realized that the +road along which he walked would in time become a city street. "Pretty +soon I'll get an option on this land," he said meditatively. An exalted +mood took possession of him and when he got to Pickleville he did not go +into the shop where Hugh and Allie Mulberry were at work, but turning, +walked back toward town in the mud and the driving rain. + +It was a time when Steve wanted to be by himself, to feel himself the +one great man of the community. He had intended to go into the old +pickle factory and escape the rain, but when he got to the railroad +tracks, had turned back because he realized suddenly that in the +presence of the silent, intent inventor he had never been able to feel +big. He wanted to feel big on that evening and so, unmindful of the rain +and of his hat, that was caught up by the wind and blown away into a +field, he went along the deserted road thinking great thoughts. At a +place where there were no houses he stopped for a moment and lifted +his tiny hands to the skies. "I'm a man. I tell you what, I'm a man. +Whatever any one says, I tell you what, I'm a man," he shouted into the +void. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Modern men and women who live in industrial cities are like mice that +have come out of the fields to live in houses that do not belong to +them. They live within the dark walls of the houses where only a dim +light penetrates, and so many have come that they grow thin and haggard +with the constant toil of getting food and warmth. Behind the walls +the mice scamper about in droves, and there is much squealing and +chattering. Now and then a bold mouse stands upon his hind legs and +addresses the others. He declares he will force his way through the +walls and conquer the gods who have built the house. "I will kill them," +he declares. "The mice shall rule. You shall live in the light and the +warmth. There shall be food for all and no one shall go hungry." + +The little mice, gathered in the darkness out of sight in the great +houses, squeal with delight. After a time when nothing happens they +become sad and depressed. Their minds go back to the time when they +lived in the fields, but they do not go out of the walls of the houses, +because long living in droves has made them afraid of the silence of +long nights and the emptiness of skies. In the houses giant children are +being reared. When the children fight and scream in the houses and in +the streets, the dark spaces between the walls rumble with strange and +appalling noises. + +The mice are terribly afraid. Now and then a single mouse for a moment +escapes the general fear. A mood comes over such a one and a light +comes into his eyes. When the noises run through the houses he makes up +stories about them. "The horses of the sun are hauling wagon loads of +days over the tops of trees," he says and looks quickly about to see if +he has been heard. When he discovers a female mouse looking at him he +runs away with a flip of his tail and the female follows. While other +mice are repeating his saying and getting some little comfort from it, +he and the female mouse find a warm dark corner and lie close together. +It is because of them that mice continue to be born to dwell within the +walls of the houses. + +When the first small model of Hugh McVey's plant-setting machine had +been whittled out by the half-wit Allie Mulberry, it replaced the famous +ship, floating in the bottle, that for two or three years had been lying +in the window of Hunter's jewelry store. Allie was inordinately proud of +the new specimen of his handiwork. As he worked under Hugh's directions +at a bench in a corner of the deserted pickle factory, he was like a +strange dog that has at last found a master. He paid no attention +to Steve Hunter who, with the air of one bearing in his breast some +gigantic secret, came in and went out at the door twenty times a day, +but kept his eyes on the silent Hugh who sat at a desk and made drawings +on sheets of paper. Allie tried valiantly to follow the instructions +given him and to understand what his master was trying to do, and Hugh, +finding himself unembarrassed by the presence of the half-wit, sometimes +spent hours trying to explain the workings of some intricate part of +the proposed machine. Hugh made each part crudely out of great pieces of +board and Allie reproduced the part in miniature. Intelligence began to +come into the eyes of the man who all his life had whittled meaningless +wooden chains, baskets formed out of peach stones, and ships intended +to float in bottles. Love and understanding began a little to do for him +what words could not have done. One day when a part Hugh had fashioned +would not work the half-wit himself made the model of a part that worked +perfectly. When Hugh incorporated it in the machine, he was so happy +that he could not sit still, and walked up and down cooing with delight. + +When the model of the machine appeared in the jeweler's window, a fever +of excitement took hold of the minds of the people. Every one declared +himself either for or against it. Something like a revolution took +place. Parties were formed. Men who had no interest in the success of +the invention, and in the nature of things could not have, were ready +to fight any one who dared to doubt its success. Among the farmers who +drove into town to see the new wonder were many who said the machine +would not, could not, work. "It isn't practical," they said. Going off +by themselves and forming groups, they whispered warnings. A hundred +objections sprang to their lips. "See all the little wheels and cogs the +thing has," they said. "You see it won't work. You take now in a field +where there are stones and old tree roots, maybe, sticking in the +ground. There you'll see. Fools'll buy the machine, yes. They'll spend +their money. They'll put in plants. The plants'll die. The money'll be +wasted. There'll be no crop." Old men, who had been cabbage farmers in +the country north of Bidwell all their lives, and whose bodies were all +twisted out of shape by the terrible labor of the cabbage fields, +came hobbling into town to look at the model of the new machine. Their +opinions were anxiously sought by the merchant, the carpenter, the +artisan, the doctor--by all the townspeople. Almost without exception, +they shook their heads in doubt. Standing on the sidewalk before the +jeweler's window, they stared at the machine and then, turning to the +crowd that had gathered about, they shook their heads in doubt. "Huh," +they exclaimed, "a thing of wheels and cogs, eh? Well, so young Hunter +expects that thing to take the place of a man. He's a fool. I always +said that boy was a fool." The merchants and townspeople, their ardor +a little dampened by the adverse decision of the men who knew +plant-setting, went off by themselves. They went into Birdie Spinks' +drugstore, but did not listen to the talk of Judge Hanby. "If the +machine works, the town'll wake up," some one declared. "It means +factories, new people coming in, houses to be built, goods to be +bought." Visions of suddenly acquired wealth began to float in their +minds. Young Ed Hall, apprentice to Ben Peeler the carpenter, grew +angry. "Hell," he exclaimed, "why listen to a lot of damned old calamity +howlers? It's the town's duty to get out and plug for that machine. We +got to wake up here. We got to forget what we used to think about Steve +Hunter. Anyway, he saw a chance, didn't he? and he took it. I wish I was +him. I only wish I was him. And what about that fellow we thought was +maybe just a telegraph operator? He fooled us all slick, now didn't he? +I tell you we ought to be proud to have such men as him and Steve Hunter +living in Bidwell. That's what I say. I tell you it's the town's duty +to get out and plug for them and for that machine. If we don't, I know +what'll happen. Steve Hunter's a live one. I been thinking maybe he was. +He'll take that invention and that inventor of his to some other town or +to a city. That's what he'll do. Damn it, I tell you we got to get out +and back them fellows up. That's what I say." + +On the whole the town of Bidwell agreed with young Hall. The excitement +did not die, but grew every day more intense. Steve Hunter had a +carpenter come to his father's store and build in the show window facing +Main Street, a long shallow box formed in the shape of a field. This he +filled with pulverized earth and then by an arrangement of strings and +pulleys connected with a clockwork device the machine was pulled across +the field. In a receptacle at the top of the machine had been placed +some dozens of tiny plants no larger than pins. When the clockwork +was started and the strings pulled to imitate applied horse power, the +machine crept slowly forward, an arm came down and made a hole in the +ground, the plant dropped into the hole and spoon-like hands appeared +and packed the earth about the plant roots. At the top of the machine +there was a tank filled with water, and when the plant was set, a +portion of water, nicely calculated as to quantity, ran down a pipe and +was deposited at the plant roots. + +Evening after evening the machine crawled forward across the tiny field, +setting the plants in perfect order. Steve Hunter busied himself with +it; he did nothing else; and rumors of a great company to be formed in +Bidwell to manufacture the device were whispered about. Every evening +a new tale was told. Steve went to Cleveland for a day and it was said +that Bidwell was to lose its chance, that big moneyed men had induced +Steve to take his factory project to the city. Hearing Ed Hall berate +a farmer who doubted the practicability of the machine, Steve took him +aside and talked to him. "We're going to need live young men who know +how to handle other men for jobs as superintendent and things like +that," he said. "I make no promises. I only want to tell you that I like +live young fellows who can see the hole in a bushel basket. I like that +kind. I like to see them get up in the world." + +Steve heard the farmers continually expressing their skepticism about +making the plants that had been set by the machine grow into maturity, +and had the carpenter build another tiny field in a side window of the +store. He had the machine moved and plants set in the new field. He +let these grow. When some of the plants showed signs of dying he came +secretly at night and replaced them with sturdier shoots so that the +miniature field showed always a brave, vigorous front to the world. + +Bidwell became convinced that the most rigorous of all forms of human +labor practiced by its people was at an end. Steve made and had hung in +the store window a large sheet showing the relative cost of planting an +acre of cabbage with the machine, and by what was already called "the +old way," by hand. Then he formally announced that a stock company would +be formed in Bidwell and that every one would have a chance to get into +it. He printed an article in the weekly paper in which he said that many +offers had come to him to take his project to the city or to other and +larger towns. "Mr. McVey, the celebrated inventor, and I both want to +stick to our own people," he said, regardless of the fact that Hugh knew +nothing of the article and had never been taken into the lives of the +people addressed. A day was set for the beginning of the taking of stock +subscriptions, and in private conversations Steve whispered of huge +profits to be made. The matter was talked over in every household and +plans were made for raising money to buy stock. John Clark agreed to +lend a certain percentage on the value of the town property and Steve +secured a long-time option on all the land facing Turner's Pike clear +down to Pickleville. When the town heard of this it was filled with +wonder. "Gee," the loiterers before the store exclaimed, "old Bidwell +is going to grow up. Now look at that, will you? There are going to be +houses clear down to Pickleville." Hugh went to Cleveland to see about +having one of his new machines made in steel and wood and in a size that +would permit its actual use in the field. He returned, a hero in the +town's eyes. His silence made it possible for the people, who could not +entirely forget their former lack of faith in Steve, to let their minds +take hold of something they thought was truly heroic. + +In the evening, after going again to see the machine in the window +of the jewelry store, crowds of young and old men wandered down along +Turner's Pike to the Wheeling Station where a new man had come to +replace Hugh. They hardly saw the evening train when it came in. Like +devotees before a shrine they gazed with something like worship in their +eyes at the old pickle factory, and when by chance Hugh came among them, +unconscious of the sensation he was creating, they became embarrassed +as he was always embarrassed by their presence. Every one dreamed of +becoming suddenly rich by the power of the man's mind. They thought of +him as thinking always great thoughts. To be sure, Steve Hunter might be +more than half bluff and blow and pretense, but there was no bluff and +blow about Hugh. He didn't waste his time in words. He thought, and out +of his thought sprang almost unbelievable wonders. + +In every part of the town of Bidwell, the new impulse toward progress +was felt. Old men, who had become settled in their ways and who had +begun to pass their days in a sort of sleepy submission to the idea of +the gradual passing away of their lives, awoke and went into Main Street +in the evening to argue with skeptical farmers. Beside Ed Hall, who had +become a Demosthenes on the subject of progress and the duty of the town +to awake and stick to Steve Hunter and the machine, a dozen other men +held forth on the street corners. Oratorical ability awoke in the most +unexpected places. Rumors flew from lip to lip. It was said that within +a year Bidwell was to have a brick factory covering acres of ground, +that there would be paved streets and electric lights. + +Oddly enough the most persistent decrier of the new spirit in Bidwell +was the man who, if the machine turned out to be a success, would profit +most from its use. Ezra French, the profane, refused to be convinced. +When pressed by Ed Hall, Dr. Robinson, and other enthusiasts, he fell +back upon the word of that God whose name had been so much upon his +lips. The decrier of God became the defender of God. "The thing, you +see, can't be done. It ain't all right. Something awful'll happen. The +rains won't come and the plants'll dry up and die. It'll be like it +was in Egypt in the Bible times," he declared. The old farmer with the +twisted leg stood before the crowd in the drug-store and proclaimed the +truth of God's word. "Don't it say in the Bible men shall work and labor +by the sweat of their brows?" he asked sharply. "Can a machine like that +sweat? You know it can't. And it can't do the work either. No, siree. +Men've got to do it. That's the way things have been since Cain killed +Abel in the Garden of Eden. God intended it so and there can't no +telegraph operator or no smart young squirt like Steve Hunter--fellows +in a town like this--set themselves up before me to change the workings +of God's laws. It can't be done, and if it could be done it would be +wicked and ungodly to try. I'll have nothing to do with it. It ain't +right. That's what I say and all your smart talk ain't a-going to change +me." + +It was in the year 1892 that Steve Hunter organized the first industrial +enterprise that came to Bidwell. It was called the Bidwell Plant-Setting +Machine Company, and in the end it turned out to be a failure. A large +factory was built on the river bank facing the New York Central tracks. +It is now occupied by an enterprise called the Hunter Bicycle Company +and is what in industrial parlance is called a live, going concern. + +For two years Hugh worked faithfully trying to perfect the first of his +inventions. After the working models of the plant-setter were brought +from Cleveland, two trained mechanics were employed to come to Bidwell +and work with him. In the old pickle factory an engine was installed +and lathes and other tool-making machines were set up. For a long time +Steve, John Clark, Tom Butterworth, and the other enthusiastic promoters +of the enterprise had no doubt as to the final outcome. Hugh wanted to +perfect the machine, had his heart set on doing the job he had set out +to do, but he had then and, for that matter, he continued during his +whole life to have but little conception of the import in the lives of +the people about him of the things he did. Day after day, with two +city mechanics and Allie Mulberry to drive the team of horses Steve had +provided, he went into a rented field north of the factory. Weak places +developed in the complicated mechanism, and new and stronger parts +were made. For a time the machine worked perfectly. Then other defects +appeared and other parts had to be strengthened and changed. The machine +became too heavy to be handled by one team. It would not work when the +soil was either too wet or too dry. It worked perfectly in both wet and +dry sand but would do nothing in clay. During the second year and +when the factory was nearing completion and much machinery had been +installed, Hugh went to Steve and told him of what he thought were the +limitations of the machine. He was depressed by his failure, but in +working with the machine, he felt he had succeeded in educating himself +as he never could have done by studying books. Steve decided that the +factory should be started and some of the machines made and sold. "You +keep the two men you have and don't talk," he said. "The machine may yet +turn out to be better than you think. One can never tell. I have made it +worth their while to keep still." On the afternoon of the day on which +he had his talk with Hugh, Steve called the four men who were associated +with him in the promotion of the enterprise into the back room of the +bank and told them of the situation. "We're up against something +here," he said. "If we let word of the failure of this machine get out, +where'll we be? It is a case of the survival of the fittest." + +Steve explained his plan to the men in the room. After all, he said, +there was no occasion for any of them to get excited. He had taken them +into the thing and he proposed to get them out. "I'm that kind of a +man," he said pompously. In a way, he declared, he was glad things had +turned out as they had. The four men had little actual money invested. +They had all tried honestly to do something for the town and he would +see to it that everything came out all right. "We'll be honest with +every one," he said. "The stock in the company has all been sold. We'll +make some of the machines and sell them. If they're failures, as this +inventor thinks, it will not be our fault. The plant, you see, will +have to be sold cheap. When that times comes we five will have to save +ourselves and the future of the town. The machinery we have bought, is, +you see, iron and wood working machinery, the very latest kind. It can +be used to make some other thing. If the plant-setting machine is a +failure we'll simply buy up the plant at a low price and make something +else. Perhaps it'll be better for the town to have the entire stock +control in our hands. You see we few men have got to run things here. +It's going to be on our shoulders to see that labor is employed. A lot +of small stock-holders are a nuisance. As man to man I'm going to ask +each of you not to sell his stock, but if any one comes to you and asks +about its value, I expect you to be loyal to our enterprise. I'll begin +looking about for something to replace the plant-setting machine, and +when the shop closes we'll start right up again. It isn't every day men +get a chance to sell themselves a fine plant full of new machinery as we +can do in a year or so now." + +Steve went out of the bank and left the four men staring at each other. +Then his father got up and went out. The other men, all connected with +the bank, arose and wandered out. "Well," said John Clark, somewhat +heavily, "he's a smart man. I suppose after all it is up to us to stick +with him and with the town. As he says, labor has got to be employed. I +can't see that it does a carpenter or a farmer any good to own a little +stock in a factory. It only takes their minds off their work. They have +foolish dreams of getting rich and don't attend to their own affairs. It +would be an actual benefit to the town if a few men owned the factory." +The banker lighted a cigar and going to a window stared out into the +main street of Bidwell. Already the town had changed. Three new brick +buildings were being erected on Main Street within sight of the bank +window. Workmen employed in the building of the factory had come to town +to live, and many new houses were being built. Everywhere things were +astir. The stock of the company had been oversubscribed, and almost +every day men came into the bank and spoke of wanting to buy more. +Only the day before a farmer had come in with two thousand dollars. The +banker's mind began to secrete the poison of his age. "After all, it's +men like Steve Hunter, Tom Butterworth, Gordon Hart, and myself that +have to take care of things, and to be in shape to do it we have to look +out for ourselves," he soliloquized. Again he stared into Main Street. +Tom Butterworth went out at the front door. He wanted to be by himself +and think his own thoughts. Gordon Hart returned to the empty back room +and standing by a window looked out into an alleyway. His thoughts ran +in the same channel as those that played through the mind of the bank +president. He also thought of men who wanted to buy stock in the company +that was doomed to failure. He began to doubt the judgment of Hugh McVey +in the matter of failure. "Such fellows are always pessimists," he told +himself. From the window at the back of the bank, he could see over the +roofs of a row of small sheds and down a residence street to where two +new workingmen's houses were being built. His thoughts only differed +from the thoughts of John Clark because he was a younger man. "A few men +of the younger generation, like Steve and myself will have to take hold +of things," he muttered aloud. "We'll have to have money to work with. +We'll have to take the responsibility of the ownership of money." + +At the front of the bank John Clark puffed at his cigar. He felt like a +soldier weighing the chances of battle. Vaguely he thought of himself as +a general, a kind of U. S. Grant of industry. The lives and happiness +of many people, he told himself, depended on the clear working of his +brain. "Well," he thought, "when factories start coming to a town and +it begins to grow as this town is growing no man can stop it. The +fellow who thinks of individual men, little fellows with their savings +invested, who may be hurt by an industrial failure, is just a weakling. +Men have to face the duties life brings. The few men who see clearly +have to think first of themselves. They have to save themselves in order +that they may save others." + + * * * * * + +Things kept on the stir in Bidwell and the gods of chance played into +the hands of Steve Hunter. Hugh invented an apparatus for lifting a +loaded coal-car off the railroad tracks, carrying it high up into the +air and dumping its contents into a chute. By its use an entire car of +coal could be emptied with a roaring rush into the hold of a ship or the +engine room of a factory. A model of the new invention was made and +a patent secured. Then Steve Hunter carried it off to New York. He +received two hundred thousand dollars in cash for it, half of which went +to Hugh. Steve's faith in the inventive genius of the Missourian was +renewed and strengthened. He looked forward with a feeling almost +approaching pleasure to the time when the town would be forced to face +the fact that the plant-setting machine was a failure, and the factory +with its new machinery would have to be thrown on the market. He knew +that his associates in the promotion of the enterprise were secretly +selling their stock. One day he went to Cleveland and had a long talk +with a banker there. Hugh was at work on a corn-cutting machine and +already he had secured an option on it. "Perhaps when the time comes to +sell the factory there'll be more than one bidder," he told Ernestine, +the soap maker's daughter, who had married him within a month after the +sale of the car-unloading device. He grew indignant when he told her +of the disloyalty of the two men in the bank, and the rich farmer, +Tom Butterworth. "They're selling their shares and letting the small +stock-holders lose their money," he declared. "I told 'em not to do +it. Now if anything happens to spoil their plans they'll not have me to +blame." + +Nearly a year had been spent in stirring up the people of Bidwell to the +point of becoming investors. Then things began to stir. The ground was +broken for the erection of the factory. No one knew of the difficulties +that had been encountered in attempting to perfect the machine and word +was passed about that in actual tests in the fields it had proven +itself entirely practical. The skeptical farmers who came into town on +Saturdays were laughed at by the town enthusiasts. A field, that had +been planted during one of the brief periods when the machine finding +ideal soil conditions had worked perfectly, was left to grow. As when he +operated the tiny model in the store window, Steve took no chances. He +engaged Ed Hall to go at night and replace the plants that did not live. +"It's fair enough," he explained to Ed. "A hundred things can cause the +plants to die, but if they die it'll be blamed on the machine. What +will become of the town if we don't believe in the thing we're going to +manufacture here?" + +The crowds of people, who in the evenings walked out along Turner's Pike +to look at the field with its long rows of sturdy young cabbages, moved +restlessly about and talked of the new days. From the field they went +along the railroad tracks to the site of the factory. The brick walls +began to mount up into the sky. Machinery began to arrive and was housed +under temporary sheds against the time when it could be installed. An +advance horde of workmen came to town and new faces appeared on Main +Street in the evening. The thing that was happening in Bidwell happened +in towns all over the Middle West. Out through the coal and iron regions +of Pennsylvania, into Ohio and Indiana, and on westward into the States +bordering on the Mississippi River, industry crept. Gas and oil were +discovered in Ohio and Indiana. Over night, towns grew into cities. A +madness took hold of the minds of the people. Villages like Lima and +Findlay, Ohio, and like Muncie and Anderson in Indiana, became small +cities within a few weeks. To some of these places, so anxious were the +people to get to them and to invest their money, excursion trains were +run. Town lots that a few weeks before the discovery of oil or gas could +have been bought for a few dollars sold for thousands. Wealth seemed to +be spurting out of the very earth. On farms in Indiana and Ohio giant +gas wells blew the drilling machinery out of the ground, and the fuel so +essential to modern industrial development rushed into the open. A wit, +standing in the presence of one of the roaring gas wells exclaimed, +"Papa, Earth has indigestion; he has gas on his stomach. His face will +be covered with pimples." + +Having, before the factories came, no market for the gas, the wells were +lighted and at night great torches of flame lit the skies. Pipes were +laid on the surface of the ground and by a day's work a laborer earned +enough to heat his house at tropical heat through an entire winter. +Farmers owning oil-producing land went to bed in the evening poor and +owing money at the bank, and awoke in the morning rich. They moved +into the towns and invested their money in the factories that sprang +up everywhere. In one county in southern Michigan, over five hundred +patents for woven wire farm fencing were taken out in one year, +and almost every patent was a magnet about which a company for the +manufacture of fence formed itself. A vast energy seemed to come out +of the breast of earth and infect the people. Thousands of the most +energetic men of the middle States wore themselves out in forming +companies, and when the companies failed, immediately formed others. +In the fast-growing towns, men who were engaged in organizing companies +representing a capital of millions lived in houses thrown hurriedly +together by carpenters who, before the time of the great awakening, were +engaged in building barns. It was a time of hideous architecture, a time +when thought and learning paused. Without music, without poetry, without +beauty in their lives or impulses, a whole people, full of the native +energy and strength of lives lived in a new land, rushed pell-mell +into a new age. A man in Ohio, who had been a dealer in horses, made a +million dollars out of a patent churn he had bought for the price of a +farm horse, took his wife to visit Europe and in Paris bought a painting +for fifty thousand dollars. In another State of the Middle West, a man +who sold patent medicine from door to door through the country began +dealing in oil leases, became fabulously rich, bought himself three +daily newspapers, and before he had reached the age of thirty-five +succeeded in having himself elected Governor of his State. In the +glorification of his energy his unfitness as a statesman was forgotten. + +In the days before the coming of industry, before the time of the mad +awakening, the towns of the Middle West were sleepy places devoted to +the practice of the old trades, to agriculture and to merchandising. In +the morning the men of the towns went forth to work in the fields or +to the practice of the trade of carpentry, horse-shoeing, wagon making, +harness repairing, and the making of shoes and clothing. They read +books and believed in a God born in the brains of men who came out of a +civilization much like their own. On the farms and in the houses in the +towns the men and women worked together toward the same ends in life. +They lived in small frame houses set on the plains like boxes, but +very substantially built. The carpenter who built a farmer's house +differentiated it from the barn by putting what he called scroll work up +under the eaves and by building at the front a porch with carved posts. +After one of the poor little houses had been lived in for a long time, +after children had been born and men had died, after men and women had +suffered and had moments of joy together in the tiny rooms under the low +roofs, a subtle change took place. The houses became almost beautiful +in their old humanness. Each of the houses began vaguely to shadow forth +the personality of the people who lived within its walls. + +In the farmhouses and in the houses on the side streets in the villages, +life awoke at dawn. Back of each of the houses there was a barn for the +horses and cows, and sheds for pigs and chickens. At daylight a chorus +of neighs, squeals, and cries broke the silence. Boys and men came +out of the houses. They stood in the open spaces before the barns and +stretched their bodies like sleepy animals. The arms extended upward +seemed to be supplicating the gods for fair days, and the fair days +came. The men and boys went to a pump beside the house and washed their +faces and hands in the cold water. In the kitchens there was the smell +and sound of the cooking of food. The women also were astir. The men +went into the barns to feed the animals and then hurried to the houses +to be themselves fed. A continual grunting sound came from the sheds +where pigs were eating corn, and over the houses a contented silence +brooded. + +After the morning meal men and animals went together to the fields and +to the doing of their tasks, and in the houses the women mended clothes, +put fruit in cans against the coming of winter and talked of woman's +affairs. On the streets of the towns on fair days lawyers, doctors, the +officials of the county courts, and the merchants walked about in their +shirt sleeves. The house painter went along with his ladder on his +shoulder. In the stillness there could be heard the hammers of the +carpenters building a new house for the son of a merchant who had +married the daughter of a blacksmith. A sense of quiet growth awoke in +sleeping minds. It was the time for art and beauty to awake in the land. + +Instead, the giant, Industry, awoke. Boys, who in the schools had read +of Lincoln, walking for miles through the forest to borrow his first +book, and of Garfield, the towpath lad who became president, began to +read in the newspapers and magazines of men who by developing +their faculty for getting and keeping money had become suddenly and +overwhelmingly rich. Hired writers called these men great, and there was +no maturity of mind in the people with which to combat the force of the +statement, often repeated. Like children the people believed what they +were told. + +While the new factory was being built with the carefully saved dollars +of the people, young men from Bidwell went out to work in other places. +After oil and gas were discovered in neighboring states, they went to +the fast-growing towns and came home telling wonder tales. In the boom +towns men earned four, five and even six dollars a day. In secret and +when none of the older people were about, they told of adventures on +which they had gone in the new places; of how, attracted by the flood +of money, women came from the cities; and the times they had been with +these women. Young Harley Parsons, whose father was a shoemaker and who +had learned the blacksmith trade, went to work in one of the new oil +fields. He came home wearing a fancy silk vest and astonished his +fellows by buying and smoking ten-cent cigars. His pockets were bulging +with money. "I'm not going to stay long in this town, you can bet on +that," he declared one evening as he stood, surrounded by a group of +admirers before Fanny Twist's Millinery Shop on lower Main Street. "I +have been with a Chinese woman, and an Italian, and with one from South +America." He took a puff of his cigar and spat on the sidewalk. "I'm +out to get what I can out of life," he declared. "I'm going back and +I'm going to make a record. Before I get through I'm going to be with a +woman of every nationality on earth, that's what I'm going to do." + +Joseph Wainsworth the harness maker, who had been the first man in +Bidwell to feel the touch of the heavy finger of industrialism, could +not get over the effect of the conversation had with Butterworth, the +farmer who had asked him to repair harnesses made by machines in a +factory. He became a silent disgruntled man and muttered as he went +about his work in the shop. When Will Sellinger his apprentice threw +up his place and went to Cleveland he did not get another boy but for +a time worked alone in the shop. He got the name of being disagreeable, +and on winter afternoons the farmers no longer came into his place to +loaf. Being a sensitive man, Joe felt like a pigmy, a tiny thing walking +always in the presence of a giant that might at any moment and by a +whim destroy him. All his life he had been somewhat off-hand with his +customers. "If they don't like my work, let 'em go to the devil," he +said to his apprentices. "I know my trade and I don't have to bow down +to any one here." + +When Steve Hunter organized the Bidwell Plant-Setting Machine Company, +the harness maker put his savings, twelve hundred dollars, into the +stock of the company. One day, during the time when the factory was +building, he heard that Steve had paid twelve hundred dollars for a new +lathe that had just arrived by freight and had been set on the floor of +the uncompleted building. The promoter had told a farmer that the lathe +would do the work of a hundred men, and the farmer had come into Joe's +shop and repeated the statement. It stuck in Joe's mind and he came to +believe that the twelve hundred dollars he had invested in stock had +been used for the purchase of the lathe. It was money he had earned in +a long lifetime of effort and it had now bought a machine that would do +the work of a hundred men. Already his money had increased by a hundred +fold and he wondered why he could not be happy about the matter. On some +days he was happy, and then his happiness was followed by an odd fit of +depression. Suppose, after all, the plant-setting machine wouldn't work? +What then could be done with the lathe, with the machine bought with his +money? + +One evening after dark and without saying anything to his wife, he went +down along Turner's Pike to the old factory at Pickleville where Hugh +with the half-wit Allie Mulberry, and the two mechanics from the city, +were striving to correct the faults in the plant-setting machine. Joe +wanted to look at the tall gaunt man from the West, and had some notion +of trying to get into conversation with him and of asking his opinion of +the possibilities of the success of the new machine. The man of the +age of flesh and blood wanted to walk in the presence of the man who +belonged to the new age of iron and steel. When he got to the factory +it was dark and on an express truck in front of the Wheeling Station the +two city workmen sat smoking their evening pipes. Joe walked past them +to the station door and then returned along the platform and got again +into Turner's Pike. He stumbled along the path beside the road and +presently saw Hugh McVey coming toward him. It was one of the evenings +when Hugh, overcome with loneliness, and puzzled that his new position +in the town's life did not bring him any closer to people, had gone +to town to walk through Main Street, half hoping some one would break +through his embarrassment and enter into conversation with him. + +When the harness maker saw Hugh walking in the path, he crept into a +fence corner, and crouching down, watched the man as Hugh had watched +the French boys at work in the cabbage fields. Strange thoughts came +into his head. He thought the extraordinarily tall figure before him in +some way terrible. He became childishly angry and for a moment thought +that if he had a stone in his hand he would throw it at the man, the +workings of whose brain had so upset his own life. Then as the figure of +Hugh went away along the path another mood came. "I have worked all my +life for twelve hundred dollars, for money that will buy one machine +that this man thinks nothing about," he muttered aloud. "Perhaps I'll +get more money than I invested: Steve Hunter says maybe I will. If +machines kill the harness-making trade what's the difference? I'll be +all right. The thing to do is to get in with the new times, to wake +up, that's the ticket. With me it's like with every one else: nothing +venture nothing gain." + +Joe crawled out of the fence corner and went stealthily along the road +behind Hugh. A fervor seized him and he thought he would like to creep +close and touch with his finger the hem of Hugh's coat. Afraid to try +anything so bold his mind took a new turn. He ran in the darkness along +the road toward town and, when he had crossed the bridge and come to the +New York Central tracks, turned west and went along the tracks until he +came to the new factory. In the darkness the half completed walls stuck +up into the sky, and all about were piles of building materials. The +night had been dark and cloudy, but now the moon began to push its way +through the clouds. Joe crawled over a pile of bricks and through a +window into the building. He felt his way along the walls until he came +to a mass of iron covered by a rubber blanket. He was sure it must be +the lathe his money had bought, the machine that was to do the work of a +hundred men and that was to make him comfortably rich in his old age. +No one had spoken of any other machine having been brought in on the +factory floor. Joe knelt on the floor and put his hands about the heavy +iron legs of the machine. "What a strong thing it is! It will not break +easily," he thought. He had an impulse to do something he knew would be +foolish, to kiss the iron legs of the machine or to say a prayer as +he knelt before it. Instead he got to his feet and crawling out again +through the window, went home. He felt renewed and full of new courage +because of the experiences of the night, but when he got to his own +house and stood at the door outside, he heard his neighbor, David +Chapman, a wheelwright who worked in Charlie Collins' wagon shop, +praying in his bedroom before an open window. Joe listened for a moment +and, for some reason he couldn't understand, his new-found faith was +destroyed by what he heard. David Chapman, a devout Methodist, was +praying for Hugh McVey and for the success of his invention. Joe knew +his neighbor had also invested his savings in the stock of the new +company. He had thought that he alone was doubtful of success, but it +was apparent that doubt had come also into the mind of the wheelwright. +The pleading voice of the praying man, as it broke the stillness of the +night, cut across and for the moment utterly destroyed his confidence. +"O God, help the man Hugh McVey to remove every obstacle that stands +in his way," David Chapman prayed. "Make the plant-setting machine a +success. Bring light into the dark places. O Lord, help Hugh McVey, thy +servant, to build successfully the plant-setting machine." + + + + +BOOK THREE + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +When Clara Butterworth, the daughter of Tom Butterworth, was eighteen +years old she graduated from the town high school. Until the summer of +her seventeenth year, she was a tall, strong, hard-muscled girl, shy in +the presence of strangers and bold with people she knew well. Her eyes +were extraordinarily gentle. + +The Butterworth house on Medina Road stood back of an apple orchard and +there was a second orchard beside the house. The Medina Road ran south +from Bidwell and climbed gradually upward toward a country of low +hills, and from the side porch of the Butterworth house the view was +magnificent. The house itself was a large brick affair with a cupola on +top and was considered at that time the most pretentious place in the +county. + +Behind the house were several great barns for the horses and cattle. +Most of Tom Butterworth's farm land lay north of Bidwell, and some of +his fields were five miles from his home; but as he did not himself work +the land it did not matter. The farms were rented to men who worked them +on shares. Beside the business of farming Tom carried on other affairs. +He owned two hundred acres of hillside land near his house and, with the +exception of a few fields and a strip of forest land, it was devoted +to the grazing of sheep and cattle. Milk and cream were delivered each +morning to the householders of Bidwell by two wagons driven by his +employees. A half mile to the west of his residence there was a +slaughter house on a side road and at the edge of a field where cattle +were killed for the Bidwell market. Tom owned it and employed the men +who did the killing. A creek that came down out of the hills through +one of the fields past his house had been dammed, and south of the +pond there was an ice house. He also supplied the town with ice. In his +orchards beneath the trees stood more than a hundred beehives and every +year he shipped honey to Cleveland. The farmer himself was a man who +appeared to do nothing, but his shrewd mind was always at work. In the +summer throughout the long sleepy afternoons, he drove about over the +county buying sheep and cattle, stopping to trade horses with some +farmer, dickering for new pieces of land, everlastingly busy. He had one +passion. He loved fast trotting horses, but would not humor himself by +owning one. "It's a game that only gets you into trouble and debt," he +said to his friend John Clark, the banker. "Let other men own the horses +and go broke racing them. I'll go to the races. Every fall I can go to +Cleveland to the grand circuit. If I go crazy about a horse I can bet +ten dollars he'll win. If he doesn't I'm out ten dollars. If I owned him +I would maybe be out hundreds for the expense of training and all that." +The farmer was a tall man with a white beard, broad shoulders, and +rather small slender white hands. He chewed tobacco, but in spite of the +habit kept both himself and his white beard scrupulously clean. His wife +had died while he was yet in the full vigor of life, but he had no +eye for women. His mind, he once told one of his friends, was too much +occupied with his own affairs and with thoughts of the fine horses he +had seen to concern itself with any such nonsense. + +For many years the farmer did not appear to pay much attention to his +daughter Clara, who was his only child. Throughout her childhood she was +under the care of one of his five sisters, all of whom except the one +who lived with him and managed his household being comfortably married. +His own wife had been a somewhat frail woman, but his daughter had +inherited his own physical strength. + +When Clara was seventeen, she and her father had a quarrel that +eventually destroyed their relationship. The quarrel began late in +July. It was a busy summer on the farms and more than a dozen men were +employed about the barns, in the delivery of ice and milk to the town, +and at the slaughtering pens a half mile away. During that summer +something happened to the girl. For hours she sat in her own room in the +house reading books, or lay in a hammock in the orchard and looked up +through the fluttering leaves of the apple trees at the summer sky. A +light, strangely soft and enticing, sometimes came into her eyes. Her +figure that had been boyish and strong began to change. As she went +about the house she sometimes smiled at nothing. Her aunt hardly noticed +what was happening to her, but her father, who all her life had seemed +hardly to take account of her existence, was interested. In her presence +he began to feel like a young man. As in the days of his courtship +of her mother and before the possessive passion in him destroyed his +ability to love, he began to feel vaguely that life about him was full +of significance. Sometimes in the afternoon when he went for one of his +long drives through the country he asked his daughter to accompany him, +and although he had little to say a kind of gallantry crept into his +attitude toward the awakening girl. While she was in the buggy with him, +he did not chew tobacco, and after one or two attempts to indulge in the +habit without having the smoke blow in her face, he gave up smoking his +pipe during the drives. + +Always before that summer Clara had spent the months when there was no +school in the company of the farm hands. She rode on wagons, visited the +barns, and when she grew weary of the company of older people, went into +town to spend an afternoon with one of her friends among the town girls. + +In the summer of her seventeenth year she did none of these things. At +the table she ate in silence. The Butterworth household was at that time +run on the old-fashioned American plan, and the farm hands, the men who +drove the ice and milk wagons and even the men who killed and dressed +cattle and sheep, ate at the same table with Tom Butterworth, his +sister, who was the housekeeper, and his daughter. Three hired girls +were employed in the house and after all had been served they also +came and took their places at table. The older men among the farmer's +employees, many of whom had known her from childhood, had got into +the habit of teasing the daughter of the house. They made comments +concerning town boys, young fellows who clerked in stores or who were +apprenticed to some tradesman and one of whom had perhaps brought the +girl home at night from a school party or from one of the affairs called +"socials" that were held at the town churches. After they had eaten in +the peculiar silent intent way common to hungry laborers, the farm hands +leaned back in their chairs and winked at each other. Two of them began +an elaborate conversation touching on some incident in the girl's life. +One of the older men, who had been on the farm for many years and who +had a reputation among the others of being something of a wit, chuckled +softly. He began to talk, addressing no one in particular. The man's +name was Jim Priest, and although the Civil War had come upon the +country when he was past forty, he had been a soldier. In Bidwell he was +looked upon as something of a rascal, but his employer was very fond of +him. The two men often talked together for hours concerning the merits +of well known trotting horses. In the war Jim had been what was called +a bounty man, and it was whispered about town that he had also been a +deserter and a bounty jumper. He did not go to town with the other men +on Saturday afternoons, and had never attempted to get into the Bidwell +chapter of the G. A. R. On Saturdays when the other farm hands washed, +shaved and dressed themselves in their Sunday clothes preparatory to the +weekly flight to town, he called one of them into the barn, slipped a +quarter into his hand, and said, "Bring me a half pint and don't you +forget it." On Sunday afternoons he crawled into the hayloft of one of +the barns, drank his weekly portion of whisky, got drunk, and sometimes +did not appear again until time to go to work on Monday morning. In the +fall Jim took his savings and went to spend a week at the grand circuit +trotting meeting at Cleveland, where he bought a costly present for his +employer's daughter and then bet the rest of his money on the races. +When he was lucky he stayed on in Cleveland, drinking and carousing +until his winnings were gone. + +It was Jim Priest who always led the attacks of teasing at the table, +and in the summer of her seventeenth year, when she was no longer in the +mood for such horse-play, it was Jim who brought the practice to an +end. At the table Jim leaned back in his chair, stroked his red bristly +beard, now rapidly graying, looked out of a window over Clara's head, +and told a tale concerning an attempt at suicide on the part of a young +man in love with Clara. He said the young man, a clerk in a Bidwell +store, had taken a pair of trousers from a shelf, tied one leg about +his neck and the other to a bracket in the wall. Then he jumped off a +counter and had only been saved from death because a town girl, passing +the store, had seen him and had rushed in and cut him down. "Now what +do you think of that?" he cried. "He was in love with our Clara, I tell +you." + +After the telling of the tale, Clara got up from the table and ran out +of the room. The farm hands joined by her father laughed heartily. Her +aunt shook her finger at Jim Priest, the hero of the occasion. "Why +don't you let her alone?" she asked. + +"She'll never get married if she stays here where you make fun of every +young man who pays her any attention." At the door Clara stopped and, +turning, put out her tongue at Jim Priest. Another roar of laughter +arose. Chairs were scraped along the floor and the men filed out of the +house to go back to the work in the barns and about the farm. + +In the summer when the change came over her Clara sat at the table and +did not hear the tales told by Jim Priest. She thought the farm hands +who ate so greedily were vulgar, a notion she had never had before, and +wished she did not have to eat with them. One afternoon as she lay in +the hammock in the orchard, she heard several of the men in a nearby +barn discussing the change that had come over her. Jim Priest was +explaining what had happened. "Our fun's over with Clara," he said. "Now +we'll have to treat her in a new way. She's no longer a kid. We'll have +to let her alone or pretty soon she won't speak to any of us. It's a +thing that happens when a girl begins to think about being a woman. The +sap has begun to run up the tree." + +The puzzled girl lay in the hammock and looked up at the sky. She +thought about Jim Priest's words and tried to understand what he meant. +Sadness crept over her and tears came into her eyes. Although she did +not know what the old man meant by the words about the sap and the tree, +she did, in a detached subconscious way, understand something of the +import of the words, and she was grateful for the thoughtfulness that +had led to his telling the others to stop trying to tease her at the +table. The half worn-out old farm hand, with the bristly beard and the +strong old body, became a figure full of significance to her mind. She +remembered with gratitude that, in spite of all of his teasing, Jim +Priest had never said anything that had in any way hurt her. In the +new mood that had come upon her that meant much. A greater hunger for +understanding, love, and friendliness took possession of her. She did +not think of turning to her father or to her aunt, with whom she had +never talked of anything intimate or close to herself, but turned +instead to the crude old man. A hundred minor points in the character of +Jim Priest she had never thought of before came sharply into her mind. +In the barns he had never mistreated the animals as the other farm +hands sometimes did. When on Sunday afternoons he was drunk and went +staggering through the barns, he did not strike the horses or swear +at them. She wondered if it would be possible for her to talk to Jim +Priest, to ask him questions about life and people and what he meant +by his words regarding the sap and the tree. The farm hand was old and +unmarried. She wondered if in his youth he had ever loved a woman. She +decided he had. His words about the sap were, she was sure, in some way +connected with the idea of love. How strong his hands were. They were +gnarled and rough, but there was something beautifully powerful about +them. She half wished the old man had been her father. In his youth, +in the darkness at night or when he was alone with a girl, perhaps in a +quiet wood in the late afternoon when the sun was going down, he had put +his hands on her shoulders. He had drawn the girl to him. He had kissed +her. + +Clara jumped quickly out of the hammock and walked about under the trees +in the orchard. Her thoughts of Jim Priest's youth startled her. It was +as though she had walked suddenly into a room where a man and woman were +making love. Her cheeks burned and her hands trembled. As she walked +slowly through the clumps of grass and weeds that grew between the trees +where the sunlight struggled through, bees coming home to the hives +heavily laden with honey flew in droves about her head. There was +something heady and purposeful about the song of labor that arose out of +the beehives. It got into her blood and her step quickened. The words of +Jim Priest that kept running through her mind seemed a part of the same +song the bees were singing. "The sap has begun to run up the tree," she +repeated aloud. How significant and strange the words seemed! They were +the kind of words a lover might use in speaking to his beloved. She had +read many novels, but they contained no such words. It was better so. +It was better to hear them from human lips. Again she thought of Jim +Priest's youth and boldly wished he were still young. She told herself +that she would like to see him young and married to a beautiful young +woman. She stopped by a fence that looked out upon a hillside meadow. +The sun seemed extraordinarily bright, the grass in the meadow greener +than she had ever seen it before. Two birds in a tree nearby made love +to each other. The female flew madly about and was pursued by the male +bird. In his eagerness he was so intent that he flew directly before the +girl's face, his wing nearly touching her cheek. She went back through +the orchard to the barns and through one of them to the open door of +a long shed that was used for housing wagons and buggies, her mind +occupied with the idea of finding Jim Priest, of standing perhaps near +him. He was not about, but in the open space before the shed, John May, +a young man of twenty-two who had just come to work on the farm, was +oiling the wheels of a wagon. His back was turned and as he handled the +heavy wagon wheels the muscles could be seen playing beneath his thin +cotton shirt. "It is so Jim Priest must have looked in his youth," the +girl thought. + +The farm girl wanted to approach the young man, to speak to him, to +ask him questions concerning many strange things in life she did not +understand. She knew that under no circumstances would she be able to do +such a thing, that it was but a meaningless dream that had come into +her head, but the dream was sweet. She did not, however, want to talk to +John May. At the moment she was in a girlish period of being disgusted +at what she thought of as the vulgarity of the men who worked on the +place. At the table they ate noisily and greedily like hungry animals. +She wanted youth that was like her own youth, crude and uncertain +perhaps, but reaching eagerly out into the unknown. She wanted to draw +very near to something young, strong, gentle, insistent, beautiful. When +the farm hand looked up and saw her standing and looking intently at +him, she was embarrassed. For a moment the two young animals, so +unlike each other, stood staring at each other and then, to relieve her +embarrassment, Clara began to play a game. Among the men employed on the +farm she had always passed for something of a tomboy. In the hayfields +and in the barns she had wrestled and fought playfully with both the old +and the young men. To them she had always been a privileged person. They +liked her and she was the boss's daughter. One did not get rough with +her or say or do rough things. A basket of corn stood just within the +door of the shed, and running to it Clara took an ear of the yellow corn +and threw it at the farm hand. It struck a post of the barn just above +his head. Laughing shrilly Clara ran into the shed among the wagons, and +the farm hand pursued her. + +John May was a very determined man. He was the son of a laborer in +Bidwell and for two or three years had been employed about the stable of +a doctor, something had happened between him and the doctor's wife +and he had left the place because he had a notion that the doctor was +becoming suspicious. The experience had taught him the value of boldness +in dealing with women. Ever since he had come to work on the Butterworth +farm, he had been having thoughts regarding the girl who had now, he +imagined, given him direct challenge. He was a little amazed by her +boldness but did not stop to ask himself questions, she had openly +invited him to pursue her. That was enough. His accustomed awkwardness +and clumsiness went away and he leaped lightly over the extended tongues +of wagons and buggies. He caught Clara in dark corner of the shed. +Without a word he took her tightly into his arms and kissed her, first +upon the neck and then on the mouth. She lay trembling and weak in his +arms and he took hold of the collar of her dress and tore it open. Her +brown neck and one of her hard, round breasts were exposed. Clara's eyes +grew big with fright. Strength came back into her body. With her sharp +hard little fist she struck John May in the face; and when he stepped +back she ran quickly out of the shed. John May did not understand. He +thought she had sought him out once and would return. "She's a little +green. I was too fast. I scared her. Next time I'll go a little easy," +he thought. + +Clara ran through the barn and then walked slowly to the house and went +upstairs to her own room. A farm dog followed her up the stairs and +stood at her door wagging his tail. She shut the door in his face. For +the moment everything that lived and breathed seemed to her gross and +ugly. Her cheeks were pale and she pulled shut the blinds to the window +and sat down on the bed, overcome with the strange new fear of life. She +did not want even the sunlight to come into her presence. John May had +followed her through the barn and now stood in the barnyard staring at +the house. She could see him through the cracks of the blinds and wished +it were possible to kill him with a gesture of her hand. + +The farm hand, full of male confidence, waited for her to come to the +window and look down at him. He wondered if there were any one else in +the house. Perhaps she would beckon to him. Something of the kind had +happened between him and the doctor's wife and it had turned out that +way. When after five or ten minutes he did not see her, he went back to +the work of oiling the wagon wheels. "It's going to be a slower thing. +She's shy, a green girl," he told himself. + +One evening a week later Clara sat on the side porch of the house with +her father when John May came into the barnyard. It was a Wednesday +evening and the farm hands were not in the habit of going into town +until Saturday, but he was dressed in his Sunday clothes and had shaved +and oiled his hair. On the occasion of a wedding or a funeral the +laborers put oil in their hair. It was indicative of something very +important about to happen. Clara looked at him, and in spite of the +feeling of repugnance that swept over her, her eyes glistened. Ever +since the affair in the barn she had managed to avoid meeting him but +she was not afraid. He had in fact taught her something. There was a +power within her with which she could conquer men. The touch of her +father's shrewdness, that was a part of her nature, had come to her +rescue. She wanted to laugh at the silly pretensions of the man, to +make a fool of him. Her cheeks flushed with pride in her mastery of the +situation. + +John May walked almost to the house and then turned along the path +that led to the road. He made a gesture with his hand and by chance Tom +Butterworth, who had been looking off across the open country toward +Bidwell, turned and saw both the movement and the leering confident +smile on the farm hand's face. He arose and followed John May into the +road, astonishment and anger fighting for possession of him. The two men +stood talking for three minutes in the road before the house and then +returned. The farm hand went to the barn and then came back along the +path to the road carrying under his arm a grain bag containing his work +clothes. He did not look up as he went past. The farmer returned to the +porch. + +The misunderstanding that was to wreck the tender relationship that had +begun to grow up between father and daughter began on that evening. Tom +Butterworth was furious. He muttered and clinched his fists. Clara's +heart beat heavily. For some reason she felt guilty, as though she had +been caught in an intrigue with the man. For a long time her father +remained silent and then he, like the farm hand, made a furious and +brutal attack on her. "Where have you been with that fellow? What you +been up to?" he asked harshly. + +For a time Clara did not answer her father's question. She wanted to +scream, to strike him in the face with her fist as she had struck +the man in the shed. Then her mind struggled to take hold of the new +situation. The fact that her father had accused her of seeking the thing +that had happened made her hate John May less heartily. She had some one +else to hate. + +Clara did not think the matter out clearly on that first evening but, +after denying that she had ever been anywhere with John May, burst into +tears and ran into the house. In the darkness of her own room she +began to think of her father's words. For some reason she could not +understand, the attack made on her spirit seemed more terrible and +unforgivable than the attack upon her body made by the farm hand in +the shed. She began to understand vaguely that the young man had been +confused by her presence on that warm sunshiny afternoon as she had been +confused by the words uttered by Jim Priest, by the song of the bees in +the orchard, by the love-making of the birds, and by her own uncertain +thoughts. He had been confused and he was stupid and young. There had +been an excuse for his confusion. It was understandable and could be +dealt with. She had now no doubt of her own ability to deal with John +May. As for her father--it was all right for him to be suspicious +regarding the farm hand, but why had he been suspicious of her? + +The perplexed girl sat down in the darkness on the edge of the bed, +and a hard look came into her eyes. After a time her father came up +the stairs and knocked at her door. He did not come in but stood in the +hallway outside and talked. She remained calm while the conversation +lasted, and that confused the man who had expected to find her in tears. +That she was not seemed to him an evidence of guilt. + +Tom Butterworth, in many ways a shrewd, observing man, never understood +the quality of his own daughter. He was an intensely possessive man and +once, when he was newly married, there had been a suspicion in his mind +that there was something between his wife and a young man who had worked +on the farm where he then lived. The suspicion was unfounded, but he +discharged the man and one evening, when his wife had gone into town to +do some shopping and did not return at the accustomed time, he followed, +and when he saw her on the street stepped into a store to avoid a +meeting. She was in trouble. Her horse had become suddenly lame and she +had to walk home. Without letting her see him the husband followed along +the road. It was dark and she heard the footsteps in the road behind +her and becoming frightened ran the last half mile to her own house. He +waited until she had entered and then followed her in, pretending he had +just come from the barns. When he heard her story of the accident to the +horse and of her fright in the road he was ashamed; but as the horse, +that had been left in a livery stable, seemed all right when he went for +it the next day he became suspicious again. + +As he stood outside the door of his daughter's room, the farmer felt as +he had felt that evening long before when he followed his wife along +the road. When on the porch downstairs he had looked up suddenly and had +seen the gesture made by the farm hand, he had also looked quickly at +his daughter. She looked confused and, he thought, guilty. "Well, it +is the same thing over again," he thought bitterly, "like mother, like +daughter--they are both of the same stripe." Getting quickly out of his +chair he had followed the young man into the road and had discharged +him. "Go, to-night. I don't want to see you on the place again," he +said. In the darkness before the girl's room he thought of many bitter +things he wanted to say. He forgot she was a girl and talked to her +as he might have talked to a mature, sophisticated, and guilty woman. +"Come," he said, "I want to know the truth. If you have been with that +farm hand you are starting young. Has anything happened between you?" + +Clara walked to the door and confronted her father. The hatred of him, +born in that hour and that never left her, gave her strength. She did +not know what he was talking about, but had a keen sense of the fact +that he, like the stupid, young man in the shed, was trying to violate +something very precious in her nature. "I don't know what you are +talking about," she said calmly, "but I know this. I am no longer a +child. Within the last week I've become a woman. If you don't want me in +your house, if you don't like me any more, say so and I'll go away." + +The two people stood in the darkness and tried to look at each other. +Clara was amazed by her own strength and by the words that had come +to her. The words had clarified something. She felt that if her father +would but take her into his arms or say some kindly understanding word, +all could be forgotten. Life could be started over again. In the future +she would understand much that she had not understood. She and her +father could draw close to each other. Tears came into her eyes and a +sob trembled in her throat. As her father, however, did not answer her +words and turned to go silently away, she shut the door with a loud +bang and afterward lay awake all night, white and furious with anger and +disappointment. + +Clara left home to become a college student that fall, but before she +left had another passage at arms with her father. In August a young man +who was to teach in the town schools came to Bidwell, and she met him +at a supper given in the basement of the church. He walked home with her +and came on the following Sunday afternoon to call. She introduced the +young man, a slender fellow with black hair, brown eyes, and a serious +face, to her father who answered by nodding his head and walking away. +She and the young man walked along a country road and went into a wood. +He was five years older than herself and had been to college, but she +felt much the older and wiser. The thing that happens to so many women +had happened to her. She felt older and wiser than all the men she had +ever seen. She had decided, as most women finally decide, that there +are two kinds of men in the world, those who are kindly, gentle, +well-intentioned children, and those who, while they remain children, +are obsessed with stupid, male vanity and imagine themselves born to be +masters of life. Clara's thoughts on the matter were not very clear. +She was young and her thoughts were indefinite. She had, however, been +shocked into an acceptance of life and she was made of the kind of stuff +that survives the blows life gives. + +In the wood with the young school teacher, Clara began an experiment. +Evening came on and it grew dark. She knew her father would be furious +that she did not come home but she did not care. She led the school +teacher to talk of love and the relationships of men and women. She +pretended an innocence that was not hers. School girls know many things +that they do not apply to themselves until something happens to them +such as had happened to Clara. The farmer's daughter became conscious. +She knew a thousand things she had not known a month before and began to +take her revenge upon men for their betrayal of her. In the darkness as +they walked home together, she tempted the young man into kissing her, +and later lay in his arms for two hours, entirely sure of herself, +striving to find out, without risk to herself, the things she wanted to +know about life. + +That night she again quarreled with her father. He tried to scold her +for remaining out late with a man, and she shut the door in his face. +On another evening she walked boldly out of the house with the school +teacher. The two walked along a road to where a bridge went over a small +stream. John May, who was still determined that the farmer's daughter +was in love with him, had on that evening followed the school teacher to +the Butterworth house and had been waiting outside intending to frighten +his rival with his fists. On the bridge something happened that drove +the school teacher away. John May came up to the two people and began +to make threats. The bridge had just been repaired and a pile of small, +sharp-edged stones lay close at hand. Clara picked one of them up and +handed it to the school teacher. "Hit him," she said. "Don't be afraid. +He's only a coward. Hit him on the head with the stone." + +The three people stood in silence waiting for something to happen. John +May was disconcerted by Clara's words. He had thought she wanted him to +pursue her. He stepped toward the school teacher, who dropped the stone +that had been put into his hand and ran away. Clara went back along the +road toward her own house followed by the muttering farm hand who, after +her speech at the bridge, did not dare approach. "Maybe she was making +a bluff. Maybe she didn't want that young fellow to get on to what is +between us," he muttered, as he stumbled along in the darkness. + +In the house Clara sat for a half hour at a table in the lighted living +room beside her father, pretending to read a book. She half hoped he +would say something that would permit her to attack him. When nothing +happened she went upstairs and to bed, only again to spend the night +awake and white with anger at the thought of the cruel and unexplainable +things life seemed trying to do to her. + +In September Clara left the farm to attend the State University at +Columbus. She was sent there because Tom Butterworth had a sister who +was married to a manufacturer of plows and lived at the State Capital. +After the incident with the farm hand and the misunderstanding that had +sprung up between himself and his daughter, he was uncomfortable with +her in the house and was glad to have her away. He did not want to +frighten his sister by telling of what had happened, and when he wrote, +tried to be diplomatic. "Clara has been too much among the rough men who +work on my farms and had become a little rough," he wrote. "Take her in +hand. I want her to become more of a lady. Get her acquainted with the +right kind of people." In secret he hoped she would meet and marry some +young man while she was away. Two of his sisters had gone away to school +and it had turned out that way. + +During the month before his daughter left home the farmer tried to be +somewhat more human and gentle in his attitude toward her, but did not +succeed in dispelling the dislike of himself that had taken deep root +in her nature. At table he made jokes at which the farm hands laughed +boisterously. Then he looked at his daughter who did not appear to have +been listening. Clara ate quickly and hurried out of the room. She did +not go to visit her girl friends in town and the young school teacher +came no more to see her. During the long summer afternoons she walked +in the orchard among the beehives or climbed over fences and went into +a wood, where she sat for hours on a fallen log staring at the trees and +the sky. Tom Butterworth also hurried out of his house. He pretended to +be busy and every day drove far and wide over the country. Sometimes he +thought he had been brutal and crude in his treatment of his daughter, +and decided he would speak to her regarding the matter and ask her to +forgive him. Then his suspicion returned. He struck the horse with +the whip and drove furiously along the lonely roads. "Well, there's +something wrong," he muttered aloud. "Men don't just look at women and +approach them boldly, as that young fellow did with Clara. He did +it before my very eyes. He's been given some encouragement." An old +suspicion awoke in him. "There was something wrong with her mother, and +there's something wrong with her. I'll be glad when the time comes for +her to marry and settle down, so I can get her off my hands," he thought +bitterly. + +On the evening when Clara left the farm to go to the train that was to +take her away, her father said he had a headache, a thing he had never +been known to complain of before, and told Jim Priest to drive her to +the station. Jim took the girl to the station, saw to the checking of +her baggage, and waited about until her train came in. Then he boldly +kissed her on the cheek. "Good-by, little girl," he said gruffly. Clara +was so grateful she could not reply. On the train she spent an hour +weeping softly. The rough gentleness of the old farm hand had done much +to take the growing bitterness out of her heart. She felt that she was +ready to begin life anew, and wished she had not left the farm without +coming to a better understanding with her father. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The Woodburns of Columbus were wealthy by the standards of their day. +They lived in a large house and kept two carriages and four servants, +but had no children. Henderson Woodburn was small of stature, wore a +gray beard, and was neat and precise about his person. He was treasurer +of the plow manufacturing company and was also treasurer of the church +he and his wife attended. In his youth he had been called "Hen" Woodburn +and had been bullied by larger boys, and when he grew to be a man and +after his persistent shrewdness and patience had carried him into a +position of some power in the business life of his native city he in +turn became something of a bully to the men beneath him. He thought +his wife Priscilla had come from a better family than his own and was +a little afraid of her. When they did not agree on any subject, she +expressed her opinion gently but firmly, while he blustered for a time +and then gave in. After a misunderstanding his wife put her arms about +his neck and kissed the bald spot on the top of his head. Then the +subject was forgotten. + +Life in the Woodburn house was lived without words. After the stir and +bustle of the farm, the silence of the house for a long time frightened +Clara. Even when she was alone in her own room she walked about on +tiptoe. Henderson Woodburn was absorbed in his work, and when he came +home in the evening, ate his dinner in silence and then worked again. +He brought home account books and papers from the office and spread them +out on a table in the living room. His wife Priscilla sat in a large +chair under a lamp and knitted children's stockings. They were, she told +Clara, for the children of the poor. As a matter of fact the stockings +never left her house. In a large trunk in her room upstairs lay hundreds +of pairs knitted during the twenty-five years of her family life. + +Clara was not very happy in the Woodburn household, but on the +other hand, was not very unhappy. She attended to her studies at the +University passably well and in the late afternoons took a walk with a +girl classmate, attended a matinee at the theater, or read a book. In +the evening she sat with her aunt and uncle until she could no longer +bear the silence, and then went to her own room, where she studied +until it was time to go to bed. Now and then she went with the two older +people to a social affair at the church, of which Henderson Woodburn +was treasurer, or accompanied them to dinners at the homes of other +well-to-do and respectable business men. On several occasions young men, +sons of the people with whom the Woodburns dined, or students at the +university, came in the evening to call. On such an occasion Clara and +the young man sat in the parlor of the house and talked. After a time +they grew silent and embarrassed in each other's presence. From the next +room Clara could hear the rustling of the papers containing the columns +of figures over which her uncle was at work. Her aunt's knitting needles +clicked loudly. The young man told a tale of some football game, or if +he had already gone out into the world, talked of his experiences as a +traveler selling the wares manufactured or merchandized by his father. +Such visits all began at the same hour, eight o'clock, and the young man +left the house promptly at ten. Clara grew to feel that she was being +merchandized and that they had come to look at the goods. One evening +one of the men, a fellow with laughing blue eyes and kinky yellow hair, +unconsciously disturbed her profoundly. All the evening he talked just +as the others had talked and got out of his chair to go away at the +prescribed hour. Clara walked with him to the door. She put out her +hand, which he shook cordially. Then he looked at her and his eyes +twinkled. "I've had a good time," he said. Clara had a sudden and almost +overpowering desire to embrace him. She wanted to disturb his assurance, +to startle him by kissing him on the lips or holding him tightly in +her arms. Shutting the door quickly, she stood with her hand on the +door-knob, her whole body trembling. The trivial by-products of her +age's industrial madness went on in the next room. The sheets of paper +rustled and the knitting needles clicked. Clara thought she would like +to call the young man back into the house, lead him to the room where +the meaningless industry went endlessly on and there do something that +would shock them and him as they had never been shocked before. She ran +quickly upstairs. "What is getting to be the matter with me?" she asked +herself anxiously. + + * * * * * + +One evening in the month of May, during her third year at the +University, Clara sat on the bank of a tiny stream by a grove of trees, +far out on the edge of a suburban village north of Columbus. Beside her +sat a young man named Frank Metcalf whom she had known for a year and +who had once been a student in the same classes with herself. He was +the son of the president of the plow manufacturing company of which her +uncle was treasurer. As they sat together by the stream the afternoon +light began to fade and darkness came on. Before them across an open +field stood a factory, and Clara remembered that the whistle had +long since blown and the men from the factory had gone home. She grew +restless and sprang to her feet. Young Metcalf who had been talking very +earnestly arose and stood beside her. "I can't marry for two years, +but we can be engaged and that will be all the same thing as far as the +right and wrong of what I want and need is concerned. It isn't my fault +I can't ask you to marry me now," he declared. "In two years now, I'll +inherit eleven thousand dollars. My aunt left it to me and the old fool +went and fixed it so I don't get it if I marry before I'm twenty-four. I +want that money. I've got to have it, but I got to have you too." + +Clara looked away into the evening darkness and waited for him to +finish his speech. All afternoon he had been making practically the +same speech, over and over. "Well, I can't help it, I'm a man," he said +doggedly. "I can't help it, I want you. I can't help it, my aunt was an +old fool." He began to explain the necessity of remaining unmarried in +order that he could receive the eleven thousand dollars. "If I don't get +that money I'll be just the same as I am now," he declared. "I won't +be any good." He grew angry and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, +stared also across the field into the darkness. "Nothing keeps me +satisfied," he said. "I hate being in my father's business and I hate +going to school. In only two years I'll get the money. Father can't keep +it from me. I'll take it and light out. I don't know just what I'll do. +I'm going maybe to Europe, that's what I'm going to do. Father wants +me to stay here and work in his office. To hell with that. I want to +travel. I'll be a soldier or something. Anyway I'll get out of here and +go somewhere and do something exciting, something alive. You can go with +me. We'll cut out together. Haven't you got the nerve? Why don't you be +my woman?" + +Young Metcalf took hold of Clara's shoulder and tried to take her into +his arms. For a moment they struggled and then, in disgust, he stepped +away from her and again began to scold. + +Clara walked away across two or three vacant lots and got into a street +of workingmen's houses, the man following at her heels. Night had come +and the people in the street facing the factory had already disposed +of the evening meal. Children and dogs played in the road and a +strong smell of food hung in the air. To the west across the fields, a +passenger train ran past going toward the city. Its light made wavering +yellow patches against the bluish black sky. Clara wondered why she had +come to the out of the way place with Frank Metcalf. She did not like +him, but there was a restlessness in him that was like the restless +thing in herself. He did not want stupidly to accept life, and that fact +made him brother to herself. Although he was but twenty-two years old, +he had already achieved an evil reputation. A servant in his father's +house had given birth to a child by him, and it had cost a good deal of +money to get her to take the child and go away without making an open +scandal. During the year before he had been expelled from the University +for throwing another young man down a flight of stairs, and it was +whispered about among the girl students that he often got violently +drunk. For a year he had been trying to ingratiate himself with Clara, +had written her letters, sent flowers to her house, and when he met her +on the street had stopped to urge that she accept his friendship. On the +day in May she had met him on the street and he had begged that she give +him one chance to talk things out with her. They had met at a street +crossing where cars went past into the suburban villages that lay about +the city. "Come on," he had urged, "let's take a street car ride, let's +get out of the crowds, I want to talk to you." He had taken hold of her +arm and fairly dragged her to a car. "Come and hear what I have to say," +he had urged, "then if you don't want to have anything to do with +me, all right. You can say so and I'll let you alone." After she had +accompanied him to the suburb of workingmen's houses, in the vicinity of +which they had spent the afternoon in the fields, Clara had found he had +nothing to urge upon her except the needs of his body. Still she felt +there was something he wanted to say that had not been said. He was +restless and dissatisfied with his life, and at bottom she felt that way +about her own life. During the last three years she had often wondered +why she had come to the school and what she was to gain by learning +things out of books. The days and months went past and she knew certain +rather uninteresting facts she had not known before. How the facts were +to help her to live, she couldn't make out. They had nothing to do with +such problems as her attitude toward men like John May the farm hand, +the school teacher who had taught her something by holding her in his +arms and kissing her, and the dark sullen young man who now walked +beside her and talked of the needs of his body. It seemed to Clara that +every additional year spent at the University but served to emphasize +its inadequacy. It was so also with the books she read and the thoughts +and actions of the older people about her. Her aunt and uncle did not +talk much, but seemed to take it for granted she wanted to live such +another life as they were living. She thought with horror of the +probability of marrying a maker of plows or of some other dull necessity +of life and then spending her days in the making of stockings for babies +that did not come, or in some other equally futile manifestation of her +dissatisfaction. She realized with a shudder that men like her uncle, +who spent their lives in adding up rows of figures or doing over and +over some tremendously trivial thing, had no conception of any outlook +for their women beyond living in a house, serving them physically, +wearing perhaps good enough clothes to help them make a show of +prosperity and success, and drifting finally into a stupid acceptance +of dullness--an acceptance that both she and the passionate, twisted man +beside her were fighting against. + +In a class in the University Clara had met, during that her third year +there, a woman named Kate Chanceller, who had come to Columbus with her +brother from a town in Missouri, and it was this woman who had given her +thoughts form, who had indeed started her thinking of the inadequacy of +her life. The brother, a studious, quiet man, worked as a chemist in a +manufacturing plant somewhere at the edge of town. He was a musician and +wanted to become a composer. One evening during the winter his sister +Kate had brought Clara to the apartment where the two lived, and the +three had become friends. Clara had learned something there that she did +not yet understand and never did get clearly into her consciousness. +The truth was that the brother was like a woman and Kate Chanceller, who +wore skirts and had the body of a woman, was in her nature a man. Kate +and Clara spent many evenings together later and talked of many things +not usually touched on by girl students. Kate was a bold, vigorous +thinker and was striving to grope her way through her own problem in +life and many times, as they walked along the street or sat together +in the evening, she forgot her companion and talked of herself and the +difficulties of her position in life. "It's absurd the way things are +arranged," she said. "Because my body is made in a certain way I'm +supposed to accept certain rules for living. The rules were not made +for me. Men manufactured them as they manufacture can-openers, on the +wholesale plan." She looked at Clara and laughed. "Try to imagine me in +a little lace cap, such as your aunt wears about the house, and spending +my days knitting baby stockings," she said. + +The two women had spent hours talking of their lives and in speculating +on the differences in their natures. The experience had been +tremendously educational for Clara. As Kate was a socialist and Columbus +was rapidly becoming an industrial city, she talked of the meaning of +capital and labor and the effect of changing conditions on the lives of +men and women. To Kate, Clara could talk as to a man, but the antagonism +that so often exists between men and women did not come into and spoil +their companionship. In the evening when Clara went to Kate's house her +aunt sent a carriage to bring her home at nine. Kate rode home with her. +They got to the Woodburn house and went in. Kate was bold and free with +the Woodburns, as with her brother and Clara. "Come," she said laughing, +"put away your figures and your knitting. Let's talk." She sat in a +large chair with her legs crossed and talked with Henderson Woodburn of +the affairs of the plow company. The two got into a discussion of the +relative merits of the free trade and protection ideas. Then the two +older people went to bed and Kate talked to Clara. "Your uncle is an +old duffer," she said. "He knows nothing about the meaning of what he's +doing in life." When she started home afoot across the city, Clara was +alarmed for her safety. "You must get a cab or let me wake up uncle's +man; something may happen," she said. Kate laughed and went off, +striding along the street like a man. Sometimes she thrust her hands +into her skirt pockets, that were like the trouser pockets of a man, and +it was difficult for Clara to remember that she was a woman. In Kate's +presence she became bolder than she had ever been with any one. One +evening she told the story of the thing that had happened to her that +afternoon long before on the farm, the afternoon when, her mind having +been inflamed by the words of Jim Priest regarding the sap that goes up +the tree and by the warm sensuous beauty of the day, she had wanted so +keenly to draw close to some one. She explained to Kate how she had been +so brutally jarred out of the feeling in herself that she felt was at +bottom all right. "It was like a blow in the face at the hand of God," +she said. + +Kate Chanceller was excited as Clara told the tale and listened with +a fiery light burning in her eyes. Something in her manner encouraged +Clara to tell also of her experiments with the school teacher and for +the first time she got a sense of justice toward men by talking to the +woman who was half a man. "I know that wasn't square," she said. "I know +now, when I talk to you, but I didn't know then. With the school teacher +I was as unfair as John May and my father were with me. Why do men and +women have to fight each other? Why does the battle between them have to +go on?" + +Kate walked up and down before Clara and swore like a man. "Oh, hell," +she exclaimed, "men are such fools and I suppose women are as bad. They +are both too much one thing. I fall in between. I've got my problem too, +but I'm not going to talk about it. I know what I'm going to do. I'm +going to find some kind of work and do it." She began to talk of the +stupidity of men in their approach to women. "Men hate such women as +myself," she said. "They can't use us, they think. What fools! They +should watch and study us. Many of us spend our lives loving other +women, but we have skill. Being part women, we know how to approach +women. We are not blundering and crude. Men want a certain thing from +you. It is delicate and easy to kill. Love is the most sensitive thing +in the world. It's like an orchid. Men try to pluck orchids with ice +tongs, the fools." + +Walking to where Clara stood by a table, and taking her by the shoulder, +the excited woman stood for a long time looking at her. Then she picked +up her hat, put it on her head, and with a flourish of her hand started +for the door. "You can depend on my friendship," she said. "I'll do +nothing to confuse you. You'll be in luck if you can get that kind of +love or friendship from a man." + +Clara kept thinking of the words of Kate Chanceller on the evening +when she walked through the streets of the suburban village with Frank +Metcalf, and later as the two sat on the car that took them back to the +city. With the exception of another student named Phillip Grimes, +who had come to see her a dozen times during her second year in the +University, young Metcalf was the only one of perhaps a dozen men she +had met since leaving the farm who had been attracted to her. Phillip +Grimes was a slender young fellow with blue eyes, yellow hair and a not +very vigorous mustache. He was from a small town in the northern end of +the State, where his father published a weekly newspaper. When he came +to see Clara he sat on the edge of his chair and talked rapidly. Some +person he had seen in the street had interested him. "I saw an old woman +on the car," he began. "She had a basket on her arm. It was filled +with groceries. She sat beside me and talked aloud to herself." Clara's +visitor repeated the words of the old woman on the car. He speculated +about her, wondered what her life was like. When he had talked of the +old woman for ten or fifteen minutes, he dropped the subject and began +telling of another experience, this time with a man who sold fruit at a +street crossing. It was impossible to be personal with Phillip Grimes. +Nothing but his eyes were personal. Sometimes he looked at Clara in a +way that I made her feel that her clothes were being stripped from her +body, and that she was being made to stand naked in the room before her +visitor. The experience, when it came, was not entirely a physical one. +It was only in part that. When the thing happened Clara saw her whole +life being stripped bare. "Don't look at me like that," she once said +somewhat sharply, when his eyes had made her so uncomfortable she could +no longer remain silent. Her remark had frightened Phillip Grimes away. +He got up at once, blushed, stammered something about having another +engagement, and hurried away. + +In the street car, homeward bound beside Frank Metcalf, Clara thought of +Phillip Grimes and wondered whether or not he would have stood the +test of Kate Chanceller's speech regarding love and friendship. He had +confused her, but that was perhaps her own fault. He had not insisted +on himself at all. Frank Metcalf had done nothing else. "One should be +able," she thought, "to find somewhere a man who respects himself and +his own desires but can understand also the desires and fears of a +woman." The street car went bouncing along over railroad crossings +and along residence streets. Clara looked at her companion, who stared +straight ahead, and then turned to look out of the car window. The +window was open and she could see the interiors of the laborers' houses +along the streets. In the evening with the lamps lighted they seemed +cosy and comfortable. Her mind ran back to the life in her father's +house and its loneliness. For two summers she had escaped going home. +At the end of her first year in school she had made an illness of her +uncle's an excuse for spending the summer in Columbus, and at the end +of the second year she had found another excuse for not going. This year +she felt she would have to go home. She would have to sit day after day +at the farm table with the farm hands. Nothing would happen. Her father +would remain silent in her presence. She would become bored and weary of +the endless small talk of the town girls. If one of the town boys began +to pay her special attention, her father would become suspicious and +that would lead to resentment in herself. She would do something she did +not want to do. In the houses along the streets through which the car +passed, she saw women moving about. Babies cried and men came out of +the doors and stood talking to one another on the sidewalks. She decided +suddenly that she was taking the problem of her own life too seriously. +"The thing to do is to get married and then work things out afterward," +she told herself. She made up her mind that the puzzling, insistent +antagonism that existed between men and women was altogether due to the +fact that they were not married and had not the married people's way +of solving such problems as Frank Metcalf had been talking about all +afternoon. She wished she were with Kate Chancellor so that she could +discuss with her this new viewpoint. When she and Frank Metcalf got off +the car she was no longer in a hurry to go home to her uncle's house. +Knowing she did not want to marry him, she thought that in her turn she +would talk, that she would try to make him see her point of view as all +the afternoon he had been trying to make her see his. + +For an hour the two people walked about and Clara talked. She forgot +about the passage of time and the fact that she had not dined. Not +wishing to talk of marriage, she talked instead of the possibility of +friendship between men and women. As she talked her own mind seemed to +her to have become clearer. "It's all foolishness your going on as you +have," she declared. "I know how dissatisfied and unhappy you sometimes +are. I often feel that way myself. Sometimes I think it's marriage I +want. I really think I want to draw close to some one. I believe every +one is hungry for that experience. We all want something we are not +willing to pay for. We want to steal it or have it given us. That's +what's the matter with me, and that's what's the matter with you." + +They came to the Woodburn house, and turning in stood on a porch in the +darkness by the front door. At the back of the house Clara could see +a light burning. Her aunt and uncle were at the eternal figuring and +knitting. They were finding a substitute for living. It was the thing +Frank Metcalf was protesting against and was the real reason for her +own constant secret protest. She took hold of the lapel of his coat, +intending to make a plea, to urge upon him the idea of a friendship that +would mean something to them both. In the darkness she could not see his +rather heavy, sullen face. The maternal instinct became strong in her +and she thought of him as a wayward, dissatisfied boy, wanting love and +understanding as she had wanted to be loved and understood by her father +when life in the moment of the awakening of her womanhood seemed ugly +and brutal. With her free hand she stroked the sleeve of his coat. Her +gesture was misunderstood by the man who was not thinking of her words +but of her body and of his hunger to possess it. He took her into his +arms and held her tightly against his breast. She tried to struggle, to +tear herself away but, although she was strong and muscular, she found +herself unable to move. As he held her uncle, who had heard the two +people come up the steps to the door, threw it open. Both he and his +wife had on several occasions warned Clara to have nothing to do with +young Metcalf. One day when he had sent flowers to the house, her aunt +had urged her to refuse to receive them. "He's a bad, dissipated, wicked +man," she had said. "Have nothing to do with him." When he saw his niece +in the arms of the man who had been the subject of so much discussion +in his own house and in every respectable house in Columbus, Henderson +Woodburn was furious. He forgot the fact that young Metcalf was the son +of the president of the company of which he was treasurer. It seemed +to him that some sort of a personal insult had been thrown at him by a +common ruffian. "Get out of here," he screamed. "What do you mean, you +nasty villain? Get out of here." + +Frank Metcalf went off along the street laughing defiantly, and Clara +went into the house. The sliding doors that led into the living room had +been thrown open and the light from a hanging lamp streamed in upon her. +Her hair was disheveled and her hat twisted to one side. The man and +woman stared at her. The knitting needles and a sheet of paper held in +their hands suggested what they had been doing while Clara was getting +another lesson from life. Her aunt's hands trembled and the knitting +needles clicked together. Nothing was said and the confused and angry +girl ran up a stairway to her own room. She locked herself in and knelt +on the floor by the bed. She did not pray. Her association with Kate +Chanceller had given her another outlet for her feelings. Pounding with +her fists on the bed coverings, she swore. "Fools, damned fools, the +world is filled with nothing but a lot of damned fools." + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Clara Butterworth left Bidwell, Ohio, in September of the year in which +Steve Hunter's plant-setting machine company went into the hands of a +receiver, and in January of the next year that enterprising young man, +together with Tom Butterworth, bought the plant. In March a new company +was organized and at once began making Hugh's corn-cutting machine, a +success from the beginning. The failure of the first company and the +sale of the plant had created a furor in the town. Both Steve and Tom +Butterworth could, however, point to the fact that they had held on to +their stock and lost their money in common with every one else. Tom had +indeed sold his stock because he needed ready money, as he explained, +but had shown his good faith by buying again just before the failure. +"Do you suppose I would have done that had I known what was up?" he +asked the men assembled in the stores. "Go look at the books of the +company. Let's have an investigation here. You will find that Steve +and I stuck to the rest of the stockholders. We lost our money with the +rest. If any one was crooked and when they saw a failure coming went and +got out from under at the expense of some one else, it wasn't Steve and +me. The books of the company will show we were game. It wasn't our fault +the plant-setting machine wouldn't work." + +In the back room of the bank, John Clark and young Gordon Hart cursed +Steve and Tom, who, they declared, had sold them out. They had lost no +money by the failure, but on the other hand they had gained nothing. The +four men had sent in a bid for the plant when it was put up for sale, +but as they expected no competition, they had not bid very much. It had +gone to a firm of Cleveland lawyers who bid a little more, and later +had been resold at private sale to Steve and Tom. An investigation was +started and it was found that Steve and Tom held large blocks of stock +in the defunct company, while the bankers held practically none. Steve +openly said that he had known of the possibility of failure for some +time and had warned the larger stock-holders and asked them not to +sell their stock. "While I was working my head off trying to save the +company, what were they up to?" he asked sharply, and his question was +repeated in the stores and in the homes of the people. + +The truth of the matter, and the thing the town never found out, was +that from the beginning Steve had intended to get the plant for himself, +but at the last had decided it would be better to take some one in with +him. He was afraid of John Clark. For two or three days he thought about +the matter and decided that the banker was not to be trusted. "He's too +good a friend to Tom Butterworth," he told himself. "If I tell him my +scheme, he'll tell Tom. I'll go to Tom myself. He's a money maker and +a man who knows the difference between a bicycle and a wheelbarrow when +you put one of them into bed with him." + +Steve drove out to Tom's house late one evening in September. He hated +to go but was convinced it would be better to do so. "I don't want to +burn all my bridges behind me," he told himself. "I've got to have +at least one friend among the solid men here in town. I've got to do +business with these rubes, maybe all my life. I can't shut myself off +too much, at least not yet a while." + +When Steve got to the farm he asked Tom to get into his buggy, and the +two men went for a long drive. The horse, a gray gelding with one blind +eye hired for the occasion from liveryman Neighbors, went slowly along +through the hill country south of Bidwell. He had hauled hundreds of +young men with their sweethearts. Ambling slowly along, thinking perhaps +of his own youth and of the tyranny of man that had made him a gelding, +he knew that as long as the moon shone and the intense voiceless quiet +continued to reign over the two people in the buggy, the whip would not +come out of its socket and he would not be expected to hurry. + +On the September evening, however, the gray gelding had behind him such +a load as he had never carried before. The two people in the buggy on +that evening were not foolish, meandering sweethearts, thinking only +of love, and allowing themselves to be influenced in their mood by the +beauty of the night, the softness of the black shadows in the road, and +the gentle night winds that crept down over the crests of hills. They +were solid business men, mentors of the new age, the kind of men who, +in the future of America and perhaps of the whole world, were to be the +makers of governments, the molders of public opinion, the owners of the +press, the publishers of books, buyers of pictures, and in the goodness +of their hearts, the feeders of an occasional starving and improvident +poet, lost on other roads. In any event the two men sat in the buggy and +the gray gelding meandered along through the hills. Great splashes of +moonlight lay in the road. By chance it was on the same evening that +Clara Butterworth left home to become a student in the State University. +Remembering the kindness and tenderness of the rough old farm hand, Jim +Priest, who had brought her to the station, she lay in her berth in the +sleeping car and looked out at the roads, washed with moonlight, that +slid away into the distance like ghosts. She thought of her father on +that night and of the misunderstanding that had grown up between them. +For the moment she was tender with regrets. "After all, Jim Priest and +my father must be a good deal alike," she thought. "They have lived on +the same farm, eaten the same food; they both love horses. There can't +be any great difference between them." All night she thought of the +matter. An obsession, that the whole world was aboard the moving train +and that, as it ran swiftly along, it was carrying the people of the +world into some strange maze of misunderstanding, took possession of +her. So strong was it that it affected her deeply buried unconscious +self and made her terribly afraid. It seemed to her that the walls of +the sleeping-car berth were like the walls of a prison that had shut her +away from the beauty of life. The walls seemed to close in upon her. +The walls, like life itself, were shutting in upon her youth and her +youthful desire to reach a hand out of the beauty in herself to the +buried beauty in others. She sat up in the berth and forced down a +desire in herself to break the car window and leap out of the swiftly +moving train into the quiet night bathed with moonlight. With girlish +generosity she took upon her own shoulders the responsibility for the +misunderstanding that had grown up between herself and her father. Later +she lost the impulse that led her to come to that decision, but during +that night it persisted. It was, in spite of the terror caused by the +hallucination regarding the moving walls of the berth that seemed about +to crush her and that came back time after time, the most beautiful +night she had ever lived through, and it remained in her memory +throughout her life. She in fact came to think later of that night as +the time when, most of all, it would have been beautiful and right for +her to have been able to give herself to a lover. Although she did not +know it, the kiss on the cheek from the bewhiskered lips of Jim Priest +had no doubt something to do with that thought when it came. + +And while the girl fought her battle with the strangeness of life and +tried to break through the imaginary walls that shut her off from the +opportunity to live, her father also rode through the night. With a +shrewd eye he watched the face of Steve Hunter. It had already begun to +get a little fat, but Tom realized suddenly that it was the face of a +man of ability. There was something about the jowls that made Tom, who +had dealt much in live stock, think of the face of a pig. "The man goes +after what he wants. He's greedy," the farmer thought. "Now he's up to +something. To get what he wants he'll give me a chance to get something +I want. He's going to make some kind of proposal to me in connection +with the factory. He's hatched up a scheme to shut Gordon Hart and John +Clark out because he doesn't want too many partners. All right, I'll go +in with him. Either one of them would have done the same thing had they +had the chance." + +Steve smoked a black cigar and talked. As he grew more sure of himself +and the affairs that absorbed him, he also became more smooth and +persuasive in the matter of words. He talked for a time of the necessity +of certain men's surviving and growing constantly stronger and stronger +in the industrial world. "It's necessary for the good of the community," +he said. "A few fairly strong men are a good thing for a town, but if +they are fewer and relatively stronger it's better." He turned to look +sharply at his companion. "Well," he exclaimed, "we talked there in the +bank of what we would do when things went to pieces down at the factory, +but there were too many men in the scheme. I didn't realize it at the +time, but I do now." He knocked the ashes off his cigar and laughed. +"You know what they did, don't you?" he asked. "I asked you all not to +sell any of your stock. I didn't want to get the whole town bitter. They +wouldn't have lost anything. I promised to see them through, to get the +plant for them at a low price, to put them in the way to make some real +money. They played the game in a small-town way. Some men can think of +thousands of dollars, others have to think of hundreds. It's all their +minds are big enough to comprehend. They snatch at a little measly +advantage and miss the big one. That's what these men have done." + +For a long time the two rode in silence. Tom, who had also sold his +stock, wondered if Steve knew. He decided he did. "However, he's decided +to deal with me. He needs some one and has chosen me," he thought. He +made up his mind to be bold. After all, Steve was young. Only a year or +two before he was nothing but a young upstart and the very boys in the +street laughed at him. Tom grew a little indignant, but was careful to +take thought before he spoke. "Perhaps, although he's young and don't +look like much, he's a faster and shrewder thinker than any of us," he +told himself. + +"You do talk like a fellow who has something up his sleeve," he said +laughing. "If you want to know, I sold my stock the same as the others. +I wasn't going to take a chance of being a loser if I could help it. It +may be the small-town way, but you know things maybe I don't know. You +can't blame me for living up to my lights. I always did believe in the +survival of the fittest and I got a daughter to support and put through +college. I want to make a lady of her. You ain't got any kids yet and +you're younger. Maybe you want to take chances I don't want to take. How +do I know what you're up to?" + +Again the two rode in silence. Steve had prepared himself for the talk. +He knew there was a chance that, in its turn, the corn-cutting machine +Hugh had invented might not prove practical and that in the end he might +be left with a factory on his hands and with nothing to manufacture in +it. He did not, however, hesitate. Again, as on the day in the bank when +he was confronted by the two older men, he made a bluff. "Well, you can +come in or stay out, just as you wish," he said a little sharply. +"I'm going to get hold of that factory, if I can, and I'm going to +manufacture corn-cutting machines. Already I have promises of orders +enough to keep running for a year. I can't take you in with me and have +it said around town you were one of the fellows who sold out the small +investors. I've got a hundred thousand dollars of stock in the company. +You can have half of it. I'll take your note for the fifty thousand. You +won't ever have to pay it. The earnings of the new factory will clean +you up. You got to come clean, though. Of course you can go get John +Clark and come out and make an open fight to get the factory yourselves, +if you want to. I own the rights to the corn-cutting machine and will +take it somewhere else and manufacture it. I don't mind telling you +that, if we split up, I will pretty well advertise what you three +fellows did to the small investors after I asked you not to do it. You +can all stay here and own your empty factory and get what satisfaction +you can out of the love and respect you'll get from the people. You +can do what you please. I don't care. My hands are clean. I ain't done +anything I'm ashamed of, and if you want to come in with me, you and I +together will pull off something in this town we don't neither one of us +have to be ashamed of." + +The two men drove back to the Butterworth farm house and Tom got out +of the buggy. He intended to tell Steve to go to the devil, but as they +drove along the road, he changed his mind. The young school teacher +from Bidwell, who had come on several occasions to call on his daughter +Clara, was on that night abroad with another young woman. He sat in a +buggy with his arm around her waist and drove slowly through the hill +country. Tom and Steve drove past them and the farmer, seeing in the +moonlight the woman in the arms of the man, imagined his daughter in her +place. The thought made him furious. "I'm losing the chance to be a big +man in the town here in order to play safe and be sure of money to leave +to Clara, and all she cares about is to galavant around with some young +squirt," he thought bitterly. He began to see himself as a wronged +and unappreciated father. When he got out of the buggy, he stood for a +moment by the wheel and looked hard at Steve. "I'm as good a sport as +you are," he said finally. "Bring around your stock and I'll give you +the note. That's all it will be, you understand: just my note. I don't +promise to back it up with any collateral and I don't expect you to +offer it for sale." Steve leaned out of the buggy and took him by the +hand. "I won't sell your note, Tom," he said. "I'll put it away. I want +a partner to help me. You and I are going to do things together." + +The young promoter drove off along the road, and Tom went into the house +and to bed. Like his daughter he did not sleep. For a time he thought +of her and in imagination saw her again in the buggy with the school +teacher who had her in his arms. The thought made him stir restlessly +about beneath the sheets. "Damn women anyway," he muttered. To relieve +his mind he thought of other things. "I'll make out a deed and turn +three of my farms over to Clara," he decided shrewdly. "If things +go wrong we won't be entirely broke. I know Charlie Jacobs in the +court-house over at the county seat. I ought to be able to get a deed +recorded without any one knowing it if I oil Charlie's hand a little." + + * * * * * + +Clara's last two weeks in the Woodburn household were spent in the +midst of a struggle, no less intense because no words were said. +Both Henderson Wood, burn and his wife felt that Clara owed them an +explanation of the scene at the front door with Frank Metcalf. When she +did not offer it they were offended. When he threw open the door and +confronted the two people, the plow manufacturer had got an impression +that Clara was trying to escape Frank Metcalf's embraces. He told his +wife that he did not think she was to blame for the scene on the front +porch. Not being the girl's father he could look at the matter coldly. +"She's a good girl," he declared. "That beast of a Frank Metcalf is all +to blame. I daresay he followed her home. She's upset now, but in the +morning she'll tell us the story of what happened." + +The days went past and Clara said nothing. During her last week in the +house she and the two older people scarcely spoke. The young woman +was in an odd way relieved. Every evening she went to dine with Kate +Chanceller who, when she heard the story of the afternoon in the suburb +and the incident on the porch, went off without Clara's knowing of it +and had a talk with Henderson Woodburn in his office. After the talk the +manufacturer was puzzled and just a little afraid of both Clara and her +friend. He tried to tell his wife about it, but was not very clear. +"I can't make it out," he said. "She is the kind of woman I can't +understand, that Kate. She says Clara wasn't to blame for what happened +between her and Frank Metcalf, but don't want to tell us the story, +because she thinks young Metcalf wasn't to blame either." Although he +had been respectful and courteous as he listened to Kate's talk, he grew +angry when he tried to tell his wife what she had said. "I'm afraid it +was just a lot of mixed up nonsense," he declared. "It makes me glad we +haven't a daughter. If neither of them were to blame what were they up +to? What's getting the matter with the women of the new generation? When +you come down to it what's the matter with Kate Chanceller?" + +The plow manufacturer advised his wife to say nothing to Clara. "Let's +wash our hands of it," he suggested. "She'll go home in a few days +now and we will say nothing about her coming back next year. Let's be +polite, but act as though she didn't exist." + +Clara accepted the new attitude of her uncle and aunt without comment. +In the afternoon she did not come home from the University but went to +Kate's apartment. The brother came home and after dinner played on the +piano. At ten o'clock Clara started home afoot and Kate accompanied her. +The two women went out of their way to sit on a bench in a park. They +talked of a thousand hidden phases of life Clara had hardly dared think +of before. During all the rest of her life she thought of those last +weeks in Columbus as the most deeply satisfactory time she ever lived +through. In the Woodburn house she was uncomfortable because of the +silence and the hurt, offended look on her aunt's face, but she did +not spend much time there. In the morning Henderson Woodburn ate his +breakfast alone at seven, and clutching his ever present portfolio of +papers, was driven off to the plow factory. Clara and her aunt had a +silent breakfast at eight, and then Clara also hurried away. "I'll be +out for lunch and will go to Kate's for dinner," she said as she went +out of her aunt's presence, and she said it, not with the air of one +asking permission as had been her custom before the Frank Metcalf +incident, but as one having the right to dispose of her own time. Only +once did her aunt break the frigid air of offended dignity she had +assumed. One morning she followed Clara to the front door, and as she +watched her go down the steps from the front porch to the walk that +led to the street, called to her. Some faint recollection of a time of +revolt in her own youth perhaps came to her. Tears came into her eyes. +To her the world was a place of terror, where wolf-like men prowled +about seeking women to devour, and she was afraid something dreadful +would happen to her niece. "If you don't want to tell me anything, it's +all right," she said bravely, "but I wish you felt you could." When +Clara turned to look at her, she hastened to explain. "Mr. Woodburn +said I wasn't to bother you about it and I won't," she added quickly. +Nervously folding and unfolding her arms, she turned to stare up the +street with the air of a frightened child that looks into a den of +beasts. "O Clara, be a good girl," she said. "I know you're grown up +now, but, O Clara, do be careful! Don't get into trouble." + +The Woodburn house in Columbus, like the Butterworth house in the +country south of Bidwell, sat on a hill. The street fell away rather +sharply as one went toward the business portion of the city and the +street car line, and on the morning when her aunt spoke to her and tried +with her feeble hands to tear some stones out of the wall that was being +built between them, Clara hurried along the street under the trees, +feeling as though she would like also to weep. She saw no possibility of +explaining to her aunt the new thoughts she was beginning to have about +life and did not want to hurt her by trying. "How can I explain my +thoughts when they're not clear in my own mind, when I am myself just +groping blindly about?" she asked herself. "She wants me to be good," +she thought. "What would she think if I told her that I had come to the +conclusion that, judging by her standards, I have been altogether too +good? What's the use trying to talk to her when I would only hurt her +and make things harder than ever?" She got to a street crossing and +looked back. Her aunt was still standing at the door of her house and +looking at her. There was something soft, small, round, insistent, both +terribly weak and terribly strong about the completely feminine thing +she had made of herself or that life had made of her. Clara shuddered. +She did not make a symbol of the figure of her aunt and her mind did not +form a connection between her aunt's life and what she had become, +as Kate Chanceller's mind would have done. She saw the little, round, +weeping woman as a boy, walking in the tree-lined streets of a town, +sees suddenly the pale face and staring eyes of a prisoner that looks +out at him through the iron bars of a town jail. Clara was startled as +the boy would be startled and, like the boy, she wanted to run quickly +away. "I must think of something else and of other kinds of women or +I'll get things terribly distorted," she told herself. "If I think of +her and women like her I'll grow afraid of marriage, and I want to be +married as soon as I can find the right man. It's the only thing I can +do. What else is there a woman can do?" + +As Clara and Kate walked about in the evening, they talked continually +of the new position Kate believed women were on the point of achieving +in the world. The woman who was so essentially a man wanted to talk +of marriage and to condemn it, but continually fought the impulse in +herself. She knew that were she to let herself go she would say many +things that, while they might be true enough as regards herself, would +not necessarily be true of Clara. "Because I do not want to live with a +man or be his wife is not very good proof that the institution is wrong. +It may be that I want to keep Clara for myself. I think more of her +than of any one else I've ever met. How can I think straight about her +marrying some man and becoming dulled to the things that mean most to +me?" she asked herself. One evening, when the women were walking from +Kate's apartment to the Woodburn house, they were accosted by two men +who wanted to walk with them. There was a small park nearby and Kate led +the men to it. "Come," she said, "we won't walk with you, but you may +sit with us here on a bench." The men sat down beside them and the +older one, a man with a small black mustache, made some remark about the +fineness of the night. The younger man who sat beside Clara looked at +her and laughed. Kate at once got down to business. "Well, you wanted to +walk with us: what for?" she asked sharply. She explained what they had +been doing. "We were walking and talking of women and what they were to +do with their lives," she explained. "We were expressing opinions, you +see. I don't say either of us had said anything that was very wise, +but we were having a good time and trying to learn something from each +other. Now what have you to say to us? You interrupted our talk and +wanted to walk with us: what for? You wanted to be in our company: now +tell us what you've got to contribute. You can't just come and walk with +us like dumb things. What have you got to offer that you think will make +it worth while for us to break up our conversation with each other and +spend the time talking with you?" + +The older man, he of the mustache, turned to look at Kate, then got up +from the bench. He walked a little away and then turned and made a sign +with his hand to his companion. "Come on," he said, "let's get out of +here. We're wasting our time. It's a cold trail. They're a couple of +highbrows. Come on, let's be on our way." + +The two women again walked along the street. Kate could not help feeling +somewhat proud of the way in which she had disposed of the men. She +talked of it until they got to the door of the Woodburn house, and, as +she went away along the street Clara thought she swaggered a little. +She stood by the door and watched her friend until she had disappeared +around a corner. A flash of doubt of the infallibility of Kate's method +with men crossed her mind. She remembered suddenly the soft brown eyes +of the younger of the two men in the park and wondered what was back of +the eyes. Perhaps after all, had she been alone with him, the man might +have had something to say quite as much to the point as the things she +and Kate had been saying to each other. "Kate made the men look like +fools, but after all she wasn't very fair," she thought as she went into +the house. + + * * * * * + +Clara was in Bidwell for a month before she realized what a change had +taken place in the life of her home town. On the farm things went on +very much as always, except that her father was very seldom there. +He had gone deeply into the project of manufacturing and selling +corn-cutting machines with Steve Hunter, and attended to much of the +selling of the output of the factory. Almost every month he went on +trips to cities of the West. Even when he was in Bidwell, he had got +into the habit of staying at the town hotel for the night. "It's too +much trouble to be always running back and forth," he explained to Jim +Priest, whom he had put in charge of the farm work. He swaggered before +the old man who for so many years had been almost like a partner in his +smaller activities. "Well, I wouldn't like to have anything said, but I +think it just as well to have an eye on what's going on," he declared. +"Steve's all right, but business is business. We're dealing in big +affairs, he and I. I don't say he would try to get the best of me; I'm +just telling you that in the future I'll have to be in town most of +the time and can't think of things out here. You look out for the farm. +Don't bother me with details. You just tell me about it when there is +any buying or selling to do." + +Clara arrived in Bidwell in the early afternoon of a warm day in June. +The hill country through which her train came into town was in the full +flush of its summer beauty. In the little patches of level land between +the hills grain was ripening in the fields. Along the streets of the +tiny towns and on dusty country roads farmers in overalls stood up in +their wagons and scolded at the horses, rearing and prancing in half +pretended fright of the passing train. In the forests on the hillsides +the open places among the trees looked cool and enticing. Clara put +her cheek against the car window and imagined herself wandering in cool +forests with a lover. She forgot the words of Kate Chanceller in regard +to the independent future of women. It was, she thought vaguely, a thing +to be thought about only after some more immediate problem was solved. +Just what the problem was she didn't definitely know, but she did know +that it concerned some close warm contact with life that she had as yet +been unable to make. When she closed her eyes, strong warm hands seemed +to come out of nothingness and touch her flushed cheeks. The fingers of +the hands were strong like the branches of trees. They touched with the +firmness and gentleness of the branches of trees nodding in a summer +breeze. + +Clara sat up stiffly in her seat and when the train stopped at Bidwell +got off and went to her waiting father with a firm, business-like +air. Coming out of the land of dreams, she took on something of the +determined air of Kate Chanceller. She stared at her father and an +onlooker might have thought them two strangers, meeting for the purpose +of discussing some business arrangement. A flavor of something like +suspicion hung over them. They got into Tom's buggy, and as Main Street +was torn up for the purpose of laying a brick pavement and digging a new +sewer, they drove by a roundabout way through residence streets until +they got into Medina Road. Clara looked at her father and felt suddenly +very alert and on her guard. It seemed to her that she was far removed +from the green, unsophisticated girl who had so often walked in +Bidwell's streets; that her mind and spirit had expanded tremendously in +the three years she had been away; and she wondered if her father would +realize the change in her. Either one of two reactions on his part +might, she felt, make her happy. The man might turn suddenly and taking +her hand receive her into fellowship, or he might receive her as a woman +and his daughter by kissing her. + +He did neither. They drove in silence through the town and passed over +a small bridge and into the road that led to the farm. Tom was curious +about his daughter and a little uncomfortable. Ever since the evening +on the porch of the farmhouse, when he had accused her of some unnamed +relationship with John May, he had felt guilty in her presence but had +succeeded in transferring the notion of guilt to her. While she was away +at school he had been comfortable. Sometimes he did not think of her +for a month at a time. Now she had written that she did not intend to go +back. She had not asked his advice, but had said positively that she was +coming home to stay. He wondered what was up. Had she got into another +affair with a man? He wanted to ask, had intended to ask, but in her +presence found that the words he had intended to say would not come to +his lips. After a long silence Clara began to ask questions about the +farm, the men who worked there, her aunt's health, the usual home-coming +questions. Her father answered with generalities. "They're all right," +he said, "every one and everything's all right." + +The road began to lift out of the valley in which the town lay, and Tom +stopped the horse and pointing with the whip talked of the town. He was +relieved to have the silence broken, and decided not to say anything +about the letter announcing the end of her school life. "You see there," +he said, pointing to where the wall of a new brick factory arose above +the trees that grew beside the river. "That's a new factory we're +building. We're going to make corn-cutting machines there. The old +factory's already too small. We've sold it to a new company that's going +to manufacture bicycles. Steve Hunter and I sold it. We got twice what +we paid for it. When the bicycle factory's started, he and I'll own the +control in that too. I tell you the town's on the boom." + +Tom boasted of his new position in the town and Clara turned and looked +sharply at him and then looked quickly away. He was annoyed by the +action and a flush of anger came to his cheeks. A side of his character +his daughter had never seen before came to the surface. When he was a +simple farmer he had been too shrewd to attempt to play the aristocrat +with his farm hands, but often, as he went about the barns and as he +drove along country roads and saw men at work in his fields, he had +felt like a prince in the presence of his vassals. Now he talked like +a prince. It was that that had startled Clara. There was about him an +indefinable air of princely prosperity. When she turned to look at him +she noticed for the first time how much his person had also changed. +Like Steve Hunter he was beginning to grow fat. The lean hardness of +his cheeks had gone, his jaws seemed heavier, even his hands had changed +their color. He wore a diamond ring on the left hand and it glistened in +the sunlight. "Things have changed," he declared, still pointing at the +town. "Do you want to know who changed it? Well, I had more to do with +it than any one else. Steve thinks he did it all, but he didn't. I'm +the man who has done the most. He put through the plant-setting machine +company, but that was a failure. When you come right down to it, things +would have gone to pieces again if I hadn't gone to John Clark and +talked and bluffed him into giving us money when we wanted it. I had +most to do with finding the big market for our corn-cutters, too. Steve +lied to me and said he had 'em all sold for a year. He didn't have any +sold at all." + +Tom struck the horse with the whip and drove rapidly along the road. +Even when the climb became difficult he would not let the horse walk, +but kept cracking the whip over his back. "I'm a different man than I +was when you went away," he declared. "You might as well know it, I'm +the big man in this town. It comes pretty near being my town when you +come right down to it. I'm going to take care of every one in Bidwell +and give every one a chance to make money, but it's my town now pretty +near and you might as well know it." + +Embarrassed by his own words, Tom talked to cover his embarrassment. +Something he wanted very much to say got itself said. "I'm glad you +went to school and fitted yourself to be a lady," he began. "I want you +should marry pretty soon now. I don't know whether you met any one at +school there or not. If you did and he's all right, it's all right with +me. I don't want you should marry an ordinary man, but a smart one, an +educated man, a gentleman. We Butterworths are going to be bigger and +bigger people here. If you get married to a good man, a smart one, I'll +build a house for you; not just a little house but a big place, the +biggest place Bidwell ever seen." They came to the farm and Tom stopped +the buggy in the road. He shouted to a man in the barnyard who came +running for her bags. When she had got out of the buggy he immediately +turned the horse about and drove rapidly away. Her aunt, a large, moist +woman, met her on the steps leading to the front door, and embraced +her warmly. The words her father had just spoken ran a riotous course +through Clara's brain. She realized that for a year she had been +thinking of marriage, had been wanting some man to approach and talk of +marriage, but she had not thought of the matter in the way her father +had put it. The man had spoken of her as though she were a possession +of his that must be disposed of. He had a personal interest in her +marriage. It was in someway not a private matter, but a family affair. +It was her father's idea, she gathered, that she was to go into marriage +to strengthen what he called his position in the community, to help him +be some vague thing he called a big man. She wondered if he had some one +in mind and could not avoid being a little curious as to who it could +be. It had never occurred to her that her marriage could mean anything +to her father beyond the natural desire of the parent that his child +make a happy marriage. She began to grow angry at the thought of the way +in which her father had approached the subject, but was still curious to +know whether he had gone so far as to have some one in mind for the role +of husband, and thought she would try to find out from her aunt. The +strange farm hand came into the house with her bags and she followed him +upstairs to what had always been her own room. Her aunt came puffing at +her heels. The farm hand went away and she began to unpack, while the +older woman, her face very red, sat on the edge of the bed. "You ain't +been getting engaged to a man down there where you been to school, have +you, Clara?" she asked. + +Clara looked at her aunt and blushed; then became suddenly and furiously +angry. Dropping the bag she had opened to the floor, she ran out of the +room. At the door she stopped and turned on the surprised and startled +woman. "No, I haven't," she declared furiously. "It's nobody's business +whether I have or not. I went to school for an education. I didn't go to +get me a man. If that's what you sent me for, why didn't you say so?" + +Clara hurried out of the house and into the barnyard. She went into all +of the barns, but there were no men about. Even the strange farm hand +who had carried her bags into the house had disappeared, and the stalls +in the horse and cattle barns were empty. Then she went into the orchard +and climbing a fence went through a meadow and into the wood to which +she had always fled, when as a girl on the farm she was troubled or +angry. For a long time she sat on a log beneath a tree and tried to +think her way through the new idea of marriage she had got from her +father's words. She was still angry and told herself that she would +leave home, would go to some city and get work. She thought of Kate +Chanceller who intended to be a doctor, and tried to picture herself +attempting something of the kind. It would take money for study. She +tried to imagine herself talking to her father about the matter and the +thought made her smile. Again she wondered if he had any definite person +in mind as her husband, and who it could be. She tried to check off her +father's acquaintances among the young men of Bidwell. "It must be some +new man who has come here, some one having something to do with one of +the factories," she thought. + +After sitting on the log for a long time, Clara got up and walked under +the trees. The imaginary man, suggested to her mind by her father's +words, became every moment more and more a reality. Before her eyes +danced the laughing eyes of the young man who for a moment had lingered +beside her while Kate Chanceller talked to his companion that evening +when they had been challenged on the streets of Columbus. She remembered +the young school teacher, who had held her in his arms through a long +Sunday afternoon, and the day when, as an awakening maiden, she had +heard Jim Priest talking to the laborers in the barn about the sap that +ran up the tree. The afternoon slipped away and the shadows of the trees +lengthened. On such a day and alone there in the quiet wood, it was +impossible for her to remain in the angry mood in which she had left +the house. Over her father's farm brooded the passionate fulfillment +of summer. Before her, seen through the trees, lay yellow wheat fields, +ripe for the cutting; insects sang and danced in the air about her head; +a soft wind blew and made a gentle singing noise in the tops of the +trees; at her back among the trees a squirrel chattered; and two calves +came along a woodland path and stood for a long time staring at her with +their large gentle eyes. She arose and went out of the wood, crossed a +falling meadow and came to a rail fence surrounding a corn field. Jim +Priest was cultivating corn and when he saw her left his horses and came +to her. He took both her hands in his and pumped her arms up and down. +"Well, Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see you," he said heartily. "Lord +A'mighty, I'm glad to see you." The old farm hand pulled a long blade +of grass out of the ground beneath the fence and leaning against the +top rail began to chew it. He asked Clara the same question her aunt had +asked, but his asking did not annoy her. She laughed and shook her head. +"No, Jim," she said, "I seem to have made a failure of going away to +school. I didn't get me a man. No one asked me, you see." + +Both the woman and the old man became silent. Over the tops of the +young corn they could see down the hillside into the distant town. Clara +wondered if the man she was to marry was there. The idea of a marriage +with her had perhaps been suggested to his mind also. Her father, she +decided, was capable of that. He was evidently ready to go to any length +to see her safely married. She wondered why. When Jim Priest began to +talk, striving to explain his question, his words fitted oddly into the +thoughts she was having in regard to herself. "Now about marriage," he +began, "you see now, I never done it. I didn't get married at all. I +don't know why. I wanted to and I didn't. I was afraid to ask, maybe. +I guess if you do it you're sorry you did and if you don't you're sorry +you didn't." + +Jim went back to his team, and Clara stood by the fence and watched him +go down the long field and turn to come back along another of the paths +between the corn rows. When the horses came to where she stood, he +stopped again and looked at her. "I guess you'll get married pretty soon +now," he said. The horses started on again and he held the cultivating +machine with one hand and looked back over his shoulder at her. "You're +one of the marrying kind," he called. "You ain't like me. You don't +just think about things. You do 'em. You'll be getting yourself married +before very long. You are one of the kind that does." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +If many things had happened to Clara Butterworth in the three years +since that day when John May so rudely tripped her first hesitating +girlish attempt to run out to life, things had also happened to the +people she had left behind in Bidwell. In so short a space of time +her father, his business associate Steve Hunter, Ben Peeler the town +carpenter, Joe Wainsworth the harness maker, almost every man and woman +in town had become something different in his nature from the man or +woman bearing the same name she had known in her girlhood. + +Ben Peeler was forty years old when Clara went to Columbus to school. He +was a tall, slender, stoop-shouldered man who worked hard and was much +respected by his fellow townsmen. Almost any afternoon he might have +been seen going through Main Street, wearing his carpenter's apron and +with a carpenter's pencil stuck under his cap and balanced on his ear. +He went into Oliver Hall's hardware store and came out with a large +package of nails under his arm. A farmer who was thinking of building a +new barn stopped him in front of the post-office and for a half hour the +two men talked of the project. Ben put on his glasses, took the pencil +out of his cap and made some notation on the back of the package of +nails. "I'll do a little figuring; then I'll talk things over with you," +he said. During the spring, summer and fall Ben had always employed +another carpenter and an apprentice, but when Clara came back to town +he was employing four gangs of six men each and had two foremen to watch +the work and keep it moving, while his son, who in other times would +also have been a carpenter, had become a salesman, wore fancy vests and +lived in Chicago. Ben was making money and for two years had not driven +a nail or held a saw in his hand. He had an office in a frame building +beside the New York Central tracks, south of Main Street, and employed a +book-keeper and a stenographer. In addition to carpentry he had embarked +in another business. Backed by Gordon Hart, he had become a lumber +dealer and bought and sold lumber under the firm name of Peeler and +Hart. Almost every day cars of lumber were unloaded and stacked under +sheds in the yard back of his office. He was no longer satisfied +with his income as a workman but, under the influence of Gordon Hart, +demanded also a swinging profit on the building materials. Ben now drove +about town in a vehicle called a buckboard and spent the entire day +hurrying from job to job. He had no time now to stop for a half hour's +gossip with a prospective builder of a barn, and did not come to loaf in +Birdie Spinks' drug-store at the end of the day. In the evening he went +to the lumber office and Gordon Hart came over from the bank. The two +men figured on jobs to be built, rows of workingmen's houses, sheds +alongside one of the new factories, large frame houses for the +superintendents and other substantial men of the town's new enterprises. +In the old days Ben had been glad to go occasionally into the country on +a barn-building job. He had liked the country food, the gossip with +the farmer and his men at the noon hour and the drive back and forth to +town, mornings and evenings. While he was in the country he managed to +make a deal for his winter potatoes, hay for his horse, and perhaps a +barrel of cider to drink on winter evenings. Now he had no time to think +of such things. When a farmer came to see him he shook his head. "Get +some one else to figure on your job," he advised. "You'll save money +by getting a barn-building carpenter. I can't bother. I have too many +houses to build." Ben and Gordon sometimes worked in the lumber office +until midnight. On warm still nights the sweet smell of new-cut boards +filled the air of the yard and crept in through the open windows, but +the two men, intent on their figures, did not notice. In the early +evening one or two teams came back to the yard to finish hauling lumber +to a job where the men were to work on the next day. The voices of the +men, talking and singing as they loaded their wagons, broke the silence. +Later the wagons loaded high with boards went creaking away. When the +two men grew tired and sleepy, they locked the office and walked through +the yard to the driveway that led to a residence street. Ben was nervous +and irritable. One evening they found three men, sleeping on a pile of +boards in the yard, and drove them out. It gave both men something to +think about. Gordon Hart went home and before he slept made up his mind +that he would not let another day go by without getting the lumber in +the yard more heavily insured. Ben had not handled affairs long enough +to come quickly to so sensible a decision. All night he rolled and +tumbled about in his bed. "Some tramp with his pipe will set the place +afire," he thought. "I'll lose all the money I've made." For a long time +he did not think of the simple expedient of hiring a watchman to drive +sleepy and penniless wanderers away, and charging enough more for his +lumber to cover the additional expense. He got out of bed and dressed, +thinking he would get his shotgun out of the barn and go back to the +yard and spend the night. Then he undressed and got into bed again. +"I can't work all day and spend my nights down there," he thought +resentfully. When at last he slept, he dreamed of sitting in the lumber +yard in the darkness with the gun in his hand. A man came toward him and +he discharged the gun and killed the man. With the inconsistency common +to the physical aspect of dreams, the darkness passed away and it was +daylight. The man he had thought dead was not quite dead. Although +the whole side of his head was torn away, he still breathed. His mouth +opened and closed convulsively. A dreadful illness took possession of +the carpenter. He had an elder brother who had died when he was a boy, +but the face of the man on the ground was the face of his brother. Ben +sat up in bed and shouted. "Help, for God's sake, help! It's my own +brother. Don't you see, it is Harry Peeler?" he cried. His wife awoke +and shook him. "What's the matter, Ben," she asked anxiously. "What's +the matter?" "It was a dream," he said, and let his head drop wearily on +the pillow. His wife went to sleep again, but he stayed awake the +rest of the night. When on the next morning Gordon Hart suggested the +insurance idea, he was delighted. "That settles it of course," he said +to himself. "It's simple enough, you see. That settles everything." + +In his shop on Main Street Joe Wainsworth had plenty to do after +the boom came to Bidwell. Many teams were employed in the hauling of +building materials; loads of paving brick were being carted from cars to +where they were to be laid on Main Street; and teams hauled earth from +where the new Main Street sewer was being dug and from the freshly dug +cellars of houses. Never had there been so many teams employed and so +much repairing of harness to do. Joe's apprentice had left him, had been +carried off by the rush of young men to the places where the boom had +arrived earlier. For a year Joe had worked alone and had then employed +a journeyman harness maker who had drifted into town drunk and who got +drunk every Saturday evening. The new man was an odd character. He had a +faculty for making money, but seemed to care little about making it +for himself. Within a week after he came to town he knew every one in +Bidwell. His name was Jim Gibson and he had no sooner come to work +for Joe than a contest arose between them. The contest concerned the +question of who was to run the shop. For a time Joe asserted himself. He +growled at the men who brought harness in to be repaired, and refused to +make promises as to when the work would be done. Several jobs were taken +away and sent to nearby towns. Then Jim Gibson asserted himself. When +one of the teamsters who had come to town with the boom came with a +heavy work harness on his shoulder, he went to meet him. The harness was +thrown with a rattling crash on the floor and Jim examined it. "Oh, the +devil, that's an easy job," he declared. "We'll fix that up in a jiffy. +You can have it to-morrow afternoon if you want it." + +For a time Jim made it a practice to come to where Joe stood at work at +his bench and consult with him regarding prices to be charged for +work. Then he returned to the customer and charged more than Joe had +suggested. After a few weeks he slopped consulting Joe at all. "You're +no good," he exclaimed, laughing. "What you're doing in business I don't +know." The old harness maker stared at him for a minute and then went +to his bench and to work. "Business," he muttered, "what do I know about +business? I'm a harness maker, I am." + +After Jim came to work for him, Joe made in one year almost twice the +amount he had lost in the failure of the plant-setting machine factory. +The money was not invested in stock of any factory but lay in the bank. +Still he was not happy. All day Jim Gibson, whom Joe had never dared +tell the tales of his triumph as a workman and to whom he did not brag +as he had formerly done to his apprentices, talked of his ability to get +the best of customers. He had, he declared, managed, in the last place +he had worked before he came to Bidwell, to sell a good many sets of +harness as handmade that were in reality made in a factory. "It isn't +like the old times," he said, "things are changing. We used to sell +harness only to farmers or to teamsters right in our towns who owned +their own horses. We always knew the men we did business with and always +would know them. Now it's different. The men now, you see, who are here +in this town to work--well, next month or next year they'll be somewhere +else. All they care about you and me is how much work they can get for +a dollar. Of course they talk big about honesty and all that stuff, but +that's only their guff. They think maybe we'll fall for it and they'll +get more for the money they pay out. That's what they're up to." + +Jim tried hard to make his version of how the shop should be run clear +to his employer. Every day he talked for hours regarding the matter. He +tried to get Joe to put in a stock of factory-made harness and when +he was unsuccessful was angry. "O the devil," he cried. "Can't you +understand what you're up against? The factories are bound to win. +For why? Look here, there can't any one but some old moss-back who has +worked around horses all his life tell the difference between hand- and +machine-sewed harness. The machine-made can be sold cheaper. It looks +all right and the factories are able to put on a lot of do-dads. That +catches the young fellows. It's good business. Quick sales and profits, +that's the story." Jim laughed and then said something that made the +shivers run up and down Joe's back. "If I had the money and was steady +I'd start a shop in this town and show you up," he said. "I'd pretty +near run you out. The trouble with me is I wouldn't stick to business +if I had the money. I tried it once and made money; then when I got a +little ahead I shut up the shop and went on a big drunk. I was no good +for a month. When I work for some one else I'm all right. I get drunk +on Saturdays and that satisfies me. I like to work and scheme for money, +but it ain't any good to me when I get it and never will be. What I want +you to do here is to shut your eyes and give me a chance. That's all I +ask. Just shut your eyes and give me a chance." + +All day Joe sat astride his harness maker's horse, and when he was not +at work, stared out through a dirty window into an alleyway and tried +to understand Jim's idea of what a harness maker's attitude should be +toward his customers, now that new times had come. He felt very old. +Although Jim was as old in years lived as himself, he seemed very young. +He began to be a little afraid of the man. He could not understand why +the money, nearly twenty-five hundred dollars he had put in the bank +during the two years Jim had been with him, seemed so unimportant and +the twelve hundred dollars he had earned slowly after twenty years of +work seemed so important. As there was much repair work always waiting +to be done in the shop, he did not go home to lunch, but every day +carried a few sandwiches to the shop in his pocket. At the noon hour, +when Jim had gone to his boarding-house, he was alone, and if no one +came in, he was happy. It seemed to him the best time of the day. +Every few minutes he went to the front door to look out. The quiet Main +Street, on which his shop had faced since he was a young man just come +home from his trade adventures, and which had always been such a sleepy +place at the noon hour in the summer, was now like a battle-field from +which an army had retreated. A great gash had been cut in the street +where the new sewer was to be laid. Swarms of workingmen, most of them +strangers, had come into Main Street from the factories by the railroad +tracks. They stood in groups in lower Main Street by Wymer's tobacco +store. Some of them had gone into Ben Head's saloon for a glass of beer +and came out wiping their mustaches. The men who were digging the sewer, +foreign men, Italians he had heard, sat on the banks of dry earth in the +middle of the street. Their dinner pails were held between their legs +and as they ate they talked in a strange language. He remembered the day +he had come to Bidwell with his bride, the girl he had met on his trade +journey and who had waited for him until he had mastered his trade and +had a shop of his own. He had gone to New York State to get her and had +arrived back in Bidwell at noon on just such another summer day. There +had not been many people about, but every one had known him. On that +day every one had been his friend. Birdie Spinks rushed out of his drug +store and had insisted that he and his bride go home to dinner with him. +Every one had wanted them to come to his house for dinner. It had been a +happy, joyous time. + +The harness maker had always been sorry his wife had borne him no +children. He had said nothing and had always pretended he did not want +them and now, at last, he was glad they had not come. He went back to +his bench and to work, hoping Jim would be late in getting back from +lunch. The shop was very quiet after the activity of the street that +had so bewildered him. It was, he thought, like a retreat, almost like +a church when you went to the door and looked in on a week day. He had +done that once and had liked the empty silent church better than he did +a church with a preacher and a lot of people in it. He had told his wife +about the matter. "It was like the shop in the evening when I've got a +job of work done and the boy has gone home," he had said. + +The harness maker looked out through the open door of his shop and saw +Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter going along Main Street, engaged in +earnest conversation. Steve had a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth +and Tom had on a fancy vest. He thought again of the money he had lost +in the plant-setting machine venture and was furious. The noon hour was +spoiled and he was almost glad when Jim came back from his mid-day meal. + +The position in which he found himself in the shop amused Jim Gibson. He +chuckled to himself as he waited on the customers who came in, and as +he worked at the bench. One day when he came back along Main Street from +the noon meal, he decided to try an experiment. "If I lose my job what +difference does it make?" he asked himself. He stopped at a saloon and +had a drink of whisky. When he got to the shop he began to scold his +employer, to threaten him as though he were his apprentice. Swaggering +suddenly in, he walked to where Joe was at work and slapped him roughly +on the back. "Come, cheer up, old daddy," he said. "Get the gloom out of +you. I'm tired of your muttering and growling at things." + +The employee stepped back and watched his employer. Had Joe ordered him +out of the shop he would not have been surprised, and as he said later +when he told Ben Head's bartender of the incident, would not have cared +very much. The fact that he did not care, no doubt saved him. Joe was +frightened. For just a moment he was so angry he could not speak, and +then he remembered that if Jim left him he would have to wait on trade +and would have to dicker with the strange teamsters regarding the +repairing of the work harness. Bending over the bench he worked for an +hour in silence. Then, instead of demanding an explanation of the rude +familiarity with which Jim had treated him, he began to explain. "Now +look here, Jim," he pleaded, "don't you pay any attention to me. You do +as you please here. Don't you pay any attention to me." + +Jim said nothing, but a smile of triumph lit up his face. Late in the +afternoon he left the shop. "If any one comes in, tell them to wait. I +won't be gone very long," he said insolently. Jim went into Ben Head's +saloon and told the bartender how his experiment had come out. The +story was later told from store to store up and down the Main Street of +Bidwell. "He was like a boy who has been caught with his hand in the jam +pot," Jim explained. "I can't think what's the matter with him. Had I +been in his, shoes I would have kicked Jim Gibson out of the shop. +He told me not to pay any attention to him and to run the shop as I +pleased. Now what do you think of that? Now what do you think of that +for a man who owns his own shop and has money in the bank? I tell you, +I don't know how it is, but I don't work for Joe any more. He works for +me. Some day you come in the shop casual-like and I'll boss him around +for you. I'm telling you I don't know how it is that it come about, but +I'm the boss of the shop as sure as the devil." + +All of Bidwell was looking at itself and asking itself questions. Ed +Hall, who had been a carpenter's apprentice earning but a few dollars +a week with his master, Ben Peeler, was now foreman in the corn-cutter +factory and received a salary of twenty-five dollars every Saturday +night. It was more money than he had ever dreamed of earning in a week. +On pay nights he dressed himself in his Sunday clothes and had himself +shaved at Joe Trotter's barber shop. Then he went along Main Street, +fingering the money in his pocket and half fearing he would suddenly +awaken and find it all a dream. He went into Wymer's tobacco store to +get a cigar, and old Claude Wymer came to wait on him. On the second +Saturday evening after he got his new position, the tobacconist, a +rather obsequious man, called him Mr. Hall. It was the first time such a +thing had happened and it upset him a little. He laughed and made a joke +of it. "Don't get high and mighty," he said, and turned to wink at the +men loafing in the shop. Later he thought about the matter and was sorry +he had not accepted the new title without protest. "Well, I'm foreman, +and a lot of the young fellows I've always known and fooled around with +will be working under me," he told himself. "I can't be getting thick +with them." + +Ed walked along the street feeling very keenly the importance of his new +place in the community. Other young fellows in the factory were getting +a dollar and a half a day. At the end of the week he got twenty-five +dollars, almost three times as much. The money was an indication of +superiority. There could be no doubt about that. Ever since he had been +a boy he had heard older men speak respectfully of men who possessed +money. "Get on in the world," they said to young men, when they talked +seriously. Among themselves they did not pretend that they did not want +money. "It's money makes the mare go," they said. + +Down Main Street to the New York Central tracks Ed went, and then turned +out of the street and disappeared into the station. The evening train +had passed and the place was deserted. He went into the dimly lighted +waiting-room. An oil lamp, turned low, and fastened by a bracket to +the wall made a little circle of light in a corner. The room was like +a church in the early morning of a wintry day, cold and still. He went +hurriedly to the light, and taking the roll of money from his pocket, +counted it. Then he went out of the room and along the station platform +almost to Main Street, but was not satisfied. On an impulse he returned +to the waiting room again and, late in the evening on his way home, he +stopped there for a final counting of the money before he went to bed. + +Peter Fry was a blacksmith and had a son who was clerk in the Bidwell +Hotel. He was a tall young fellow with curly yellow hair and watery blue +eyes and smoked cigarettes, a habit that was an offense to the nostrils +of the men of his times. His name was Jacob, but he was called in +derision Fizzy Fry. The young man's mother was dead and he got his meals +at the hotel and at night slept on a cot in the hotel office. He had a +passion for gayly colored neckties and waistcoats and was forever trying +unsuccessfully to attract the attention of the town girls. When he +and his father met on the street, they did not speak to each other. +Sometimes the father stopped and stared at his son. "How did I happen to +be the father of a thing like that?" he muttered aloud. + +The blacksmith was a square-shouldered, heavily built man with a bushy +black beard and a tremendous voice. When he was a young man he sang in +the Methodist choir, but after his wife died he stopped going to church +and began putting his voice to other uses. He smoked a short clay pipe +that had become black with age and that at night could not be seen +against his black curly beard. Smoke rolled out of his mouth in clouds +and appeared to come up out of his belly. He was like a volcanic +mountain and was called, by the men who loafed in Birdie Spinks' drug +store, Smoky Pete. + +Smoky Pete was in more ways than one like a mountain given to eruptions. +He did not get drunk, but after his wife died he got into the habit of +having two or three drinks of whisky every evening. The whisky inflamed +his mind and he strode up and down Main Street, ready to quarrel with +any one his eye lighted upon. He got into the habit of roaring at his +fellow citizens and making ribald jokes at their expense. Every one was +a little afraid of him and he became in an odd way the guardian of the +town morals. Sandy Ferris, a house painter, became a drunkard and did +not support his family. Smoky Pete abused him in the public streets +and in the sight of all men. "You cheap thing, warming your belly with +whisky while jour children freeze, why don't you try being a man?" he +shouted at the house painter, who staggered into a side street and went +to sleep off his intoxication in a stall in Clyde Neighbors' livery +barn. The blacksmith kept at the painter until the whole town took up +his cry and the saloons became ashamed to accept his custom. He was +forced to reform. + +The blacksmith did not, however, discriminate in the choice of victims. +His was not the spirit of the reformer. A merchant of Bidwell, who had +always been highly respected and who was an elder in his church, went +one evening to the county seat and there got into the company of a +notorious woman known throughout the county as Nell Hunter. The two went +into a little room at the back of a saloon and were seen by two Bidwell +young men who had gone to the county seat for an evening of adventure. +When the merchant, named Pen Beck, realized he had been seen, he was +afraid the tale of his indiscretion would be carried to his home town, +and left the woman to join the young men. He was not a drinking man, but +began at once to buy drinks for his companions. The three got very drunk +and drove home together late at night in a rig the young men had hired +for the occasion from Clyde Neighbors. On the way the merchant kept +trying to explain his presence in the company of the woman. "Don't +say anything about it," he urged. "It would be misunderstood. I have a +friend whose son has been taken in by the woman. I was trying to get her +to let him alone." + +The two young men were delighted that they had caught the merchant off +his guard. "It's all right," they assured him. "Be a good fellow and we +won't tell your wife or the minister of your church." When they had all +the drinks they could carry, they got the merchant into the buggy and +began to whip the horse. They had driven half way to Bidwell and all of +them had fallen into a drunken sleep, when the horse became frightened +at something in the road and ran away. The buggy was overturned and they +were all thrown into the road. One of the young men had an arm broken +and Pen Beck's coat was almost torn in two. He paid the young man's +doctor's bill and settled with Clyde Neighbors for the damage to the +buggy. + +For a long time the story of the merchant's adventure did not leak out, +and when it did, but a few intimate friends of the young men knew it. +Then it reached the ears of Smoky Pete. On the day he heard it he could +hardly bear to wait until evening came. He hurried to Ben Head's saloon, +had two drinks of whisky and then went to stand with the loafers before +Birdie Spinks' drug store. At half past seven Pen Beck turned into Main +Street from Cherry Street, where he lived. When he was more than three +blocks away from the crowd of men before the drug store, Smoky Pete's +roaring voice began to question him. "Well, Penny, my lad, so you went +for a night among the ladies?" he shouted. "You've been fooling around +with my girl, Nell Hunter, over at the county seat. I'd like to know +what you mean. You'll have to make an explanation to me." + +The merchant stopped and stood on the sidewalk, unable to decide whether +to face his tormentor or flee. It was just at the quiet time of the +evening when the housewives of the town had finished their evening's +work and stood resting by the kitchen doors. It seemed to Pen Beck that +Smoky Pete's voice could be heard for a mile. He decided to face it out +and if necessary to fight the blacksmith. As he came hurriedly toward +the group before the drug store, Smoky Pete's voice took up the story of +the merchant's wild night. He stepped out from the men in front of the +store and seemed to be addressing himself to the whole street. Clerks, +merchants, and customers rushed out of the stores. "Well," he cried, "so +you made a night of it with my girl Nell Hunter. When you sat with her +in the back room of the saloon you didn't know I was there. I was hidden +under a table. If you'd done anything more than bite her on the neck I'd +have come out and called you to time." + +Smoky Pete broke into a roaring laugh and waved his arms to the people +gathered in the street and wondering what it was all about. It was for +him one of the really delicious spots of his life. He tried to explain +to the people what he was talking about. "He was with Nell Hunter in +the back room of a saloon over at the county seat," he shouted. "Edgar +Duncan and Dave Oldham saw him there. He came home with them and the +horse ran away. He didn't commit adultery. I don't want you to think +that happened. All that happened was he bit my best girl, Nell Hunter, +on the neck. That's what makes me so mad. I don't like to have her +bitten by him. She is my girl and belongs to me." + +The blacksmith, forerunner of the modern city newspaper reporter in +his love of taking the center of the stage in order to drag into public +sight the misfortunes of his fellows, did not finish his tirade. The +merchant, white with anger, rushed up and struck him a blow on the chest +with his small and rather fat fist. The blacksmith knocked him into the +gutter and later, when he was arrested, went proudly off to the office +of the town mayor and paid his fine. + +It was said by the enemies of Smoky Pete that he had not taken a bath +for years. He lived alone in a small frame house at the edge of town. +Behind his house was a large field. The house itself was unspeakably +dirty. When the factories came to town, Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter +bought the field intending to cut it into building lots. They wanted to +buy the blacksmith's house and finally did secure it by paying a high +price. He agreed to move out within a year but after the money was paid +repented and wished he had not sold. A rumor began to run about town +connecting the name of Tom Butterworth with that of Fanny Twist, the +town milliner. It was said the rich farmer had been seen coming out +of her shop late at night. The blacksmith also heard another story +whispered in the streets. Louise Trucker, the farmer's daughter who had +at one time been seen creeping through a side street in the company of +young Steve Hunter, had gone to Cleveland and it was said she had become +the proprietor of a prosperous house of ill fame. Steve's money, it +was declared, had been used to set her up in business. The two stories +offered unlimited opportunity for expansion in the blacksmith's mind, +but while he was preparing himself to do what he called bringing the two +men down in the sight and hearing of the whole town, a thing happened +that upset his plans. His son Fizzy Fry left his place as clerk in the +hotel and went to work in the corn-cutting machine factory. One day +his father saw him coming from the factory at noon with a dozen other +workmen. The young man had on overalls and smoked a pipe. When he saw +his father he stopped, and when the other men had gone on, explained his +sudden transformation. "I'm in the shop now, but I won't be there long," +he said proudly. "You know Tom Butterworth stays at the hotel? Well, +he's given me a chance. I got to stay in the shop for a while to learn +about things. After that I'm to have a chance as shipping clerk. Then +I'll be a traveler on the road." He looked at his father and his voice +broke. "You haven't thought very much of me, but I'm not so bad," he +said. "I don't want to be a sissy, but I'm not very strong. I worked at +the hotel because there wasn't anything else I thought I could do." + +Peter Fry went home to his house but could not eat the food he had +cooked for himself on the tiny stove in the kitchen. He went outdoors +and stood for a long time, looking out across the cow-pasture Tom +Butterworth and Steve Hunter had bought and that they proposed should +become a part of the rapidly growing city. He had himself taken no part +in the new impulses that had come upon the town, except that he had +taken advantage of the failure of the town's first industrial effort +to roar insults at those of his townsmen who had lost their money. One +evening he and Ed Hall had got into a fight about the matter on Main +Street, and the blacksmith had been compelled to pay another fine. +Now he wondered what was the matter with him. He had evidently made a +mistake about his son. Had he made a mistake about Tom Butterworth and +Steve Hunter? + +The perplexed man went back to his shop and all the afternoon worked in +silence. His heart had been set on the creation of a dramatic scene on +Main Street, when he openly attacked the two most prominent men of the +town, and he even pictured himself as likely to be put in the town jail +where he would have an opportunity to roar things through the iron +bars at the citizens gathered in the street. In anticipation of such an +event, he had prepared himself to attack the reputation of other people. +He had never attacked women but, if he were locked up, he intended to do +so. John May had once told him that Tom Butterworth's daughter, who had +been away to college for a year, had been sent away because she was +in the family way. John May had claimed he was responsible for her +condition. Several of Tom's farm hands he said had been on intimate +terms with the girl. The blacksmith had told himself that if he got +into trouble for publicly attacking the father he would be justified in +telling what he knew about the daughter. + +The blacksmith did not come into Main Street that evening. As he went +home from work he saw Tom Butterworth standing with Steve Hunter before +the post-office. For several weeks Tom had been spending most of his +time away from town, had only appeared in town for a few hours at +a time, and had not been seen on the streets in the evening. The +blacksmith had been waiting to catch both men on the street at one time. +Now that this opportunity had come, he began to be afraid he would not +dare take it. "What right have I to spoil my boy's chances?" he asked +himself, as he went rather heavily along the street toward his own +house. + +It rained on that evening and for the first time in years Smoky Pete did +not go into Main Street. He told himself that the rain kept him at home, +but the thought did not satisfy him. All evening he moved restlessly +about the house and at half past eight went to bed. He did not, however, +sleep, but lay with his trousers on and with his pipe in his mouth, +trying to think. Every few minutes he took the pipe from his mouth, blew +out a cloud of smoke and swore viciously. At ten o'clock the farmer, who +had owned the cow-pasture back of his house and who still kept his cows +there, saw his neighbor tramping about in the rain in the field and +saying things he had planned to say on Main Street in the hearing of the +entire town. + +The farmer also had gone to bed early, but at ten o'clock he decided +that, as the rain continued to fall and as it was growing somewhat cold, +he had better get up and let his cows into the barn. He did not dress, +but threw a blanket about his shoulders and went out without a light. +He let down the bars separating the field from the barnyard and then saw +and heard Smoky Pete in the field. The blacksmith walked back and forth +in the darkness, and as the farmer stood by the fence, began to talk in +a loud voice. "Well, Tom Butterworth, you're fooling around with Fanny +Twist," he cried into the silence and emptiness of the night. "You're +sneaking into her shop late at night, eh? Steve Hunter has set Louise +Trucker up in business in a house in Cleveland. Are you and Fanny Twist +going to open a house here? Is that the next industrial enterprise we're +to have here in this town?" + +The amazed farmer stood in the rain in the darkness, listening to the +words of his neighbor. The cows came through the gate and went into the +barn. His bare legs were cold and he drew them alternately up under the +blanket. For ten minutes Peter Fry tramped up and down in the field. +Once he came quite near the farmer, who drew himself down beside the +fence and listened, filled with amazement and fright. He could dimly see +the tall, old man striding along and waving his arms about. When he had +said many bitter, hateful things regarding the two most prominent men +of Bidwell, he began to abuse Tom Butterworth's daughter, calling her a +bitch and the daughter of a dog. The farmer waited until Smoky Pete +had gone back to his house and, when he saw a light in the kitchen, and +fancied he could also see his neighbor cooking food at a stove, he went +again into his own house. He had himself never quarreled with Smoky Pete +and was glad. He was glad also that the field at the back of his house +had been sold. He intended to sell the rest of his farm and move west to +Illinois. "The man's crazy," he told himself. "Who but a crazy man would +talk that way in the darkness? I suppose I ought to report him and get +him locked up, but I guess I'll forget what I heard. A man who would +talk like that about nice respectable people would do anything. He might +set fire to my house some night or something like that. I guess I'll +just forget what I heard." + + + + +BOOK FOUR + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +After the success of his corn cutting machine and the apparatus for +unloading coal cars that brought him a hundred thousand dollars in cash, +Hugh could not remain the isolated figure he had been all through the +first several years of his life in the Ohio community. From all sides +men reached out their hands to him: and more than one woman thought she +would like to be his wife. All men lead their lives behind a wall of +misunderstanding they themselves have built, and most men die in silence +and unnoticed behind the walls. Now and then a man, cut off from his +fellows by the peculiarities of his nature, becomes absorbed in doing +something that is impersonal, useful, and beautiful. Word of his +activities is carried over the walls. His name is shouted and is carried +by the wind into the tiny inclosure in which other men live and in which +they are for the most part absorbed in doing some petty task for the +furtherance of their own comfort. Men and women stop their complaining +about the unfairness and inequality of life and wonder about the man +whose name they have heard. + +From Bidwell, Ohio, to farms all over the Middle West, Hugh McVey's +name had been carried. His machine for cutting corn was called the McVey +Corn-Cutter. The name was printed in white letters against a background +of red on the side of the machine. Farmer boys in the States of Indiana, +Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and all the great corn-growing States +saw it and in idle moments wondered what kind of man had invented the +machine they operated. A Cleveland newspaper man came to Bidwell and +went to Pickleville to see Hugh. He wrote a story telling of Hugh's +early poverty and his efforts to become an inventor. When the reporter +talked to Hugh he found the inventor so embarrassed and uncommunicative +that he gave up trying to get a story. Then he went to Steve Hunter who +talked to him for an hour. The story made Hugh a strikingly romantic +figure. His people, the story said, came out of the mountains of +Tennessee, but they were not poor whites. It was suggested that they +were of the best English stock. There was a tale of Hugh's having in +his boyhood contrived some kind of an engine that carried water from a +valley to a mountain community; another of his having seen a clock in +a store in a Missouri town and of his having later made a clock of wood +for his parents; and a tale of his having gone into the forest with his +father's gun, shot a wild hog and carried it down the mountain side on +his shoulder in order to get money to buy school books. After the tale +was printed the advertising manager of the corn-cutter factory got Hugh +to go with him one day to Tom Butterworth's farm. Many bushels of corn +were brought out of the corn cribs and a great mountain of corn was +built on the ground at the edge of a field. Back of the mountain of corn +was a corn field just coming into tassel. Hugh was told to climb up on +the mountain and sit there. Then his picture was taken. It was sent to +newspapers all over the West with copies of the biography cut from the +Cleveland paper. Later both the picture and the biography were used in +the catalogue that described the McVey Corn-Cutter. + +The cutting of corn and putting it in shocks against the time of the +husking is heavy work. In recent times it has come about that much of +the corn grown on mid-American prairie lands is not cut. The corn is +left standing in the fields, and men go through it in the late fall to +pick the yellow ears. The workers throw the corn over their shoulders +into a wagon driven by a boy, who follows them in their slow progress, +and it is then hauled away to the cribs. When a field has been picked, +the cattle are turned in and all winter they nibble at the dry corn +blades and tramp the stalks into the ground. All day long on the wide +western prairies when the gray fall days have come, you may see the men +and the horses working their way slowly through the fields. Like tiny +insects they crawl across the immense landscapes. After them in the late +fall and in the winter when the prairies are covered with snow, come the +cattle. They are brought from the far West in cattle cars and after they +have nibbled the corn blades all day, are taken to barns and stuffed +to bursting with corn. When they are fat they are sent to the great +killing-pens in Chicago, the giant city of the prairies. In the still +fall nights, as you stand on prairie roads or in the barnyard back of +one of the farm houses, you may hear the rustling of the dry corn blades +and then the crash of the heavy bodies of the beasts going forward as +they nibble and trample the corn. + +In earlier days the method of corn harvesting was different. There was +poetry in the operation then as there is now, but it was set to another +rhythm. When the corn was ripe men went into the fields with heavy corn +knives and cut the stalks of corn close to the ground. The stalks were +cut with the right hand swinging the corn knife and carried on the left +arm. All day a man carried a heavy load of the stalks from which yellow +ears hung down. When the load became unbearably heavy it was carried to +the shock, and when all the corn was cut in a certain area, the shock +was made secure by binding it with tarred rope or with a tough stalk +twisted to take the place of the rope. When the cutting was done the +long rows of stalks stood up in the fields like sentinels, and the men +crawled off to the farmhouses and to bed, utterly weary. + +Hugh's machine took all of the heavier part of the work away. It cut +the corn near the ground and bound it into bundles that fell upon a +platform. Two men followed the machine, one to drive the horses and the +other to place the bundles of stalks against the shocks and to bind the +completed shocks. The men went along smoking their pipes and talking. +The horses stopped and the driver stared out over the prairies. His arms +did not ache with weariness and he had time to think. The wonder and +mystery of the wide open places got a little into his blood. At night +when the work was done and the cattle fed and made comfortable in the +barns, he did not go at once to bed but sometimes went out of his house +and stood for a moment under the stars. + +This thing the brain of the son of a mountain man, the poor white of +the river town, had done for the people of the plains. The dreams he had +tried so hard to put away from him and that the New England woman +Sarah Shepard had told him would lead to his destruction had come to +something. The car-dumping apparatus, that had sold for two hundred +thousand dollars, had given Steve Hunter money to buy the plant-setting +machine factory, and with Tom Butterworth to start manufacturing the +corn-cutters, had affected the lives of fewer people, but it had carried +the Missourian's name into other places and had also made a new kind of +poetry in railroad yards and along rivers at the back of cities where +ships are loaded. On city nights as you lie in your houses you may hear +suddenly a long reverberating roar. It is a giant that has cleared his +throat of a carload of coal. Hugh McVey helped to free the giant. He +is still doing it. In Bidwell, Ohio, he is still at it, making new +inventions, cutting the bands that have bound the giant. He is one man +who had not been swept aside from his purpose by the complexity of life. + +That, however, came near happening. After the coming of his success, +a thousand little voices began calling to him. The soft hands of women +reached out of the masses of people about him, out of the old dwellers +and new dwellers in the city that was growing up about the factories +where his machines were being made in ever increasing numbers. New +houses were constantly being built along Turner's Pike that led down +to his workshop at Pickleville. Beside Allie Mulberry a dozen mechanics +were now employed in his experimental shop. They helped Hugh with a new +invention, a hay-loading apparatus on which he was at work, and also +made special tools for use in the corn-cutter factory and the new +bicycle factory. A dozen new houses had been built in Pickleville +itself. The wives of the mechanics lived in the houses and occasionally +one of them came to see her husband at Hugh's shop. He found it less and +less difficult to talk to people. The workmen, themselves not given to +the use of many words, did not think his habitual silence peculiar. They +were more skilled than Hugh in the use of tools and thought it rather an +accident that he had done what they had not done. As he had grown rich +by that road they also tried their hand at inventions. One of them made +a patent door hinge that Steve sold for ten thousand dollars, keeping +half the money for his services, as he had done in the case of Hugh's +car-dumping apparatus. At the noon hour the men hurried to their houses +to eat and then came back to loaf before the factory and smoke their +noonday pipes. They talked of money-making, of the price of food stuffs, +of the advisability of a man's buying a house on the partial payment +plan. Sometimes they talked of women and of their adventures with women. +Hugh sat by himself inside the door of the shop and listened. At night +after he had gone to bed he thought of what they had said. He lived in +a house belonging to a Mrs. McCoy, the widow of a railroad section hand +killed in a railroad accident, who had a daughter. The daughter, Rose +McCoy, taught a country school and most of the year was away from home +from Monday morning until late on Friday afternoon. Hugh lay in bed +thinking of what his workmen had said of women and heard the old +housekeeper moving about down stairs. Sometimes he got out of bed to sit +by an open window. Because she was the woman whose life touched his +most closely, he thought often of the school teacher. The McCoy house, a +small frame affair with a picket fence separating it from Turner's Pike, +stood with its back door facing the Wheeling Railroad. The section hands +on the railroad remembered their former fellow workman, Mike McCoy, +and wanted to be good to his widow. They sometimes dumped half decayed +railroad ties over the fence into a potato patch back of the house. At +night, when heavily loaded coal trains rumbled past, the brakemen heaved +large chunks of coal over the fence. The widow awoke whenever a train +passed. When one of the brakemen threw a chunk of coal he shouted and +his voice could be heard above the rumble of the coal cars. "That's for +Mike," he cried. Sometimes one of the chunks knocked a picket out of the +fence and the next day Hugh put it back again. When the train had passed +the widow got out of bed and brought the coal into the house. "I don't +want to give the boys away by leaving it lying around in the daylight," +she explained to Hugh. On Sunday mornings Hugh took a crosscut saw and +cut the railroad ties into lengths that would go into the kitchen stove. +Slowly his place in the McCoy household had become fixed, and when he +received the hundred thousand dollars and everybody, even the mother +and daughter, expected him to move, he did not do so. He tried +unsuccessfully to get the widow to take more money for his board and +when that effort failed, life in the McCoy household went as it had when +he was a telegraph operator receiving forty dollars a month. + +In the spring or fall, as he sat by his window at night, and when the +moon came up and the dust in Turner's Pike was silvery white, Hugh +thought of Rose McCoy, sleeping in some farmer's house. It did not occur +to him that she might also be awake and thinking. He imagined her lying +very still in bed. The section hand's daughter was a slender woman of +thirty with tired blue eyes and red hair. Her skin had been heavily +freckled in her youth and her nose was still freckled. Although Hugh did +not know it, she had once been in love with George Pike, the Wheeling +station agent, and a day had been set for the marriage. Then a +difficulty arose in regard to religious beliefs and George Pike married +another woman. It was then she became a school teacher. She was a woman +of few words and she and Hugh had never been alone together, but as +Hugh sat by the window on fall evenings, she lay awake in a room in the +farmer's house, where she was boarding during the school season, and +thought of him. She thought that had Hugh remained a telegraph operator +at forty dollars a month something might have happened between them. +Then she had other thoughts, or rather, sensations that had little to do +with thoughts. The room in which she lay was very still and a streak of +moonlight came in through the window. In the barn back of the farmhouse +she could hear the cattle stirring about. A pig grunted and in the +stillness that followed she could hear the farmer, who lay in the next +room with his wife, snoring gently. Rose was not very strong and the +physical did not rule in her nature, but she was very lonely and thought +that, like the farmer's wife, she would like to have a man to lie with +her. Warmth crept over her body and her lips became dry so that she +moistened them with her tongue. Had you been able to creep unobserved +into the room, you might have thought her much like a kitten lying by +a stove. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to dreams. In her +conscious mind she dreamed of being the wife of the bachelor Hugh McVey, +but deep within her there was another dream, a dream having its basis +in the memory of her one physical contact with a man. When they were +engaged to be married George had often kissed her. On one evening in the +spring they had gone to sit together on the grassy bank beside the creek +in the shadow of the pickle factory, then deserted and silent, and had +come near to going beyond kissing. Why nothing else had happened Rose +did not exactly know. She had protested, but her protest had been feeble +and had not expressed what she felt. George Pike had desisted in his +effort to press love upon her because they were to be married, and he +did not think it right to do what he thought of as taking advantage of a +girl. + +At any rate he did desist and long afterward, as she lay in the +farmhouse consciously thinking of her mother's bachelor boarder, her +thoughts became less and less distinct and when she had slipped off into +sleep, George Pike came back to her. She stirred uneasily in bed and +muttered words. Rough but gentle hands touched her cheeks and played in +her hair. As the night wore on and the position of the moon shifted, the +streak of moonlight lighted her face. One of her hands reached up and +seemed to be caressing the moonbeams. The weariness had all gone out of +her face. "Yes, George, I love you, I belong to you," she whispered. + +Had Hugh been able to creep like the moonbeam into the presence of the +sleeping school teacher, he must inevitably have loved her. Also he +would perhaps have understood that it is best to approach human beings +directly and boldly as he had approached the mechanical problems by +which his days were filled. Instead he sat by his window in the presence +of the moonlit night and thought of women as beings utterly unlike +himself. Words dropped by Sarah Shepard to the awakening boy came +creeping back to his mind. He thought women were for other men but not +for him, and told himself he did not want a woman. + +And then in Turner's Pike something happened. A farmer boy, who had been +to town and who had the daughter of a neighbor in his buggy, stopped in +front of the house. A long freight train, grinding its way slowly past +the station, barred the passage along the road. He held the reins in one +hand and put the other about the waist of his companion. The two heads +sought each other and lips met. They clung to each other. The same moon +that shed its light on Rose McCoy in the distant farmhouse lighted the +open place where the lovers sat in the buggy in the road. Hugh had to +close his eyes and fight to put down an almost overpowering physical +hunger in himself. His mind still protested that women were not for him. +When his fancy made for him a picture of the school teacher Rose +McCoy sleeping in a bed, he saw her only as a chaste white thing to be +worshiped from afar and not to be approached, at least not by himself. +Again he opened his eyes and looked at the lovers whose lips still clung +together. His long slouching body stiffened and he sat up very straight +in his chair. Then he closed his eyes again. A gruff voice broke the +silence. "That's for Mike," it shouted and a great chunk of coal thrown +from the train bounded across the potato patch and struck against the +back of the house. Downstairs he could hear old Mrs. McCoy getting out +of bed to secure the prize. The train passed and the lovers in the +buggy sank away from each other. In the silent night Hugh could hear the +regular beat of the hoofs of the farmer boy's horse as it carried him +and his woman away into the darkness. + +The two people, living in the house with the old woman who had almost +finished her life, and themselves trying feebly to reach out to life, +never got to anything very definite in relation to each other. One +Saturday evening in the late fall the Governor of the State came to +Bidwell. There was a parade to be followed by a political meeting and +the Governor, who was a candidate for re-election, was to address the +people from the steps of the town hall. Prominent citizens were to stand +on the steps beside the Governor. Steve and Tom were to be there, and +they had asked Hugh to come, but he had refused. He asked Rose McCoy +to go to the meeting with him, and they set out from the house at eight +o'clock and walked to town. Then they stood at the edge of the crowd +in the shadow of a store building and listened to the speech. To Hugh's +amazement his name was mentioned. The Governor spoke of the prosperity +of the town, indirectly hinting that it was due to the political +sagacity of the party of which he was a representative, and then +mentioned several individuals also partly responsible. "The whole +country is sweeping forward to new triumphs under our banner," he +declared, "but not every community is so fortunate as I find you here. +Labor is employed at good wages. Life here is fruitful and happy. You +are fortunate here in having among you such business men as Steven +Hunter and Thomas Butterworth; and in the inventor Hugh McVey you have +one of the greatest intellects and the most useful men that ever lived +to help lift the burden off the shoulder of labor. What his brain is +doing for labor, our party is doing in another way. The protective +tariff is really the father of modern prosperity." + +The speaker paused and a cheer arose from the crowd. Hugh took hold +of the school teacher's arm and drew her away down a side street. They +walked home in silence, but when they got to the house and were about +to go in, the school teacher hesitated. She wanted to ask Hugh to walk +about in the darkness with her but did not have the courage of her +desires. As they stood at the gate and as the tall man with the long +serious face looked down at her, she remembered the speaker's words. +"How could he care for me? How could a man like him care anything for a +homely little school teacher like me?" she asked herself. Aloud she said +something quite different. As they had come along Turner's Pike she had +made up her mind she would boldly suggest a walk under the trees along +Turner's Pike beyond the bridge, and had told herself that she would +later lead him to the place beside the stream and in the shadow of the +old pickle factory where she and George Pike had come so near being +lovers. Instead she hesitated for a moment by the gate and then laughed +awkwardly and passed in. "You should be proud. I would be proud if I +could be spoken of like that. I don't see why you keep living here in a +cheap little house like ours," she said. + +On a warm spring Sunday night during the year in which Clara Butterworth +came back to Bidwell to live, Hugh made what was for him an almost +desperate effort to approach the school teacher. It had been a rainy +afternoon and Hugh had spent a part of it in the house. He came over +from his shop at noon and went to his room. When she was at home the +school teacher occupied a room next his own. The mother who seldom left +the house had on that day gone to the country to visit a brother. The +daughter got dinner for herself and Hugh and he tried to help her wash +the dishes. A plate fell out of his hands and its breaking seemed to +break the silent, embarrassed mood that had possession of them. For a +few minutes they were children and acted like children. Hugh picked +up another plate and the school teacher told him to put it down. He +refused. "You're as awkward as a puppy. How you ever manage to do +anything over at that shop of yours is more than I know." + +Hugh tried to keep hold of the plate which the school teacher tried to +snatch away and for a few minutes they struggled laughing. Her cheeks +were flushed and Hugh thought she looked bewitching. An impulse he +had never had before came to him. He wanted to shout at the top of his +lungs, throw the plate at the ceiling, sweep all of the dishes off the +table and hear them crash on the floor, play like some huge animal +loose in a tiny world. He looked at Rose and his hands trembled from the +strength of the strange impulse. As he stood staring she took the plate +out of his hand and went into the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do +he put on his hat and went for a walk. Later he went to the shop and +tried to work, but his hand trembled when he tried to hold a tool and +the hay-loading apparatus on which he was at work seemed suddenly a very +trivial and unimportant thing. + +At four o'clock Hugh got back to the house and found it apparently +empty, although the door leading to Turner's Pike was open. The rain +had stopped falling and the sun struggled to work its way through the +clouds. He went upstairs to his own room and sat on the edge of his bed. +The conviction that the daughter of the house was in her room next door +came to him, and although the thought violated all the beliefs he had +ever held regarding women in relation to himself, he decided that she +had gone to her room to be near him when he came in. For some reason he +knew that if he went to her door and knocked she would not be surprised +and would not refuse him admission. He took off his shoes and set +them gently on the floor. Then he went on tiptoes out into the little +hallway. The ceiling was so low that he had to stoop to avoid knocking +his head against it. He raised his hand intending to knock on the door, +and then lost courage. Several times he went into the hallway with the +same intent, and each time returned noiselessly to his own room. He sat +in the chair by the window and waited. An hour passed. He heard a noise +that indicated that the school teacher had been lying on her bed. Then +he heard footsteps on the stairs, and presently saw her go out of the +house and go along Turner's Pike. She did not go toward town but over +the bridge past his shop and into the country. Hugh drew himself back +out of sight. He wondered where she could be going. "The roads are +muddy. Why does she go out? Is she afraid of me?" he asked himself. When +he saw her turn at the bridge and look back toward the house, his hands +trembled again. "She wants me to follow. She wants me to go with her," +he thought. + +Hugh did presently go out of the house and along the road but did not +meet the school teacher. She had in fact crossed the bridge and had gone +along the bank of the creek on the farther side. Then she crossed +over again on a fallen log and went to stand by the wall of the pickle +factory. A lilac bush grew beside the wall and she stood out of sight +behind it. When she saw Hugh in the road her heart beat so heavily that +she had difficulty in breathing. He went along the road and presently +passed out of sight, and a great weakness took possession of her. +Although the grass was wet she sat on the ground against the wall of the +building and closed her eyes. Later she put her face in her hands and +wept. + +The perplexed inventor did not get back to his boarding house until +late that night, and when he did he was unspeakably glad that he had not +knocked on the door of Rose McCoy's room. He had decided during the walk +that the whole notion that she had wanted him had been born in his own +brain. "She's a nice woman," he had said to himself over and over during +the walk, and thought that in coming to that conclusion he had swept +away all possibilities of anything else in her. He was tired when he got +home and went at once to bed. The old woman came home from the country +and her brother sat in his buggy and shouted to the school teacher, who +came out of her room and ran down the stairs. He heard the two women +carry something heavy into the house and drop it on the floor. The +farmer brother had given Mrs. McCoy a bag of potatoes. Hugh thought of +the mother and daughter standing together downstairs and was unspeakably +glad he had not given way to his impulse toward boldness. "She would be +telling her now. She is a good woman and would be telling her now," he +thought. + +At two o'clock that night Hugh got out of bed. In spite of the +conviction that women were not for him, he had found himself unable to +sleep. Something that shone in the eyes of the school teacher, when she +struggled with him for the possession of the plate, kept calling to him +and he got up and went to the window. The clouds had all gone out of the +sky and the night was clear. At the window next his own sat Rose McCoy. +She was dressed in a night gown and was looking away along Turner's Pike +to the place where George Pike the station master lived with his wife. +Without giving himself time to think, Hugh knelt on the floor and with +his long arm reached across the space between the two windows. His +fingers had almost touched the back of the woman's head and ached to +play in the mass of red hair that fell down over her shoulders, when +again self-consciousness overcame him. He drew his arm quickly back and +stood upright in the room. His head banged against the ceiling and he +heard the window of the room next door go softly down. With a conscious +effort he took himself in hand. "She's a good woman. Remember, she's a +good woman," he whispered to himself, and when he got again into his bed +he refused to let his mind linger on the thoughts of the school teacher, +but compelled them to turn to the unsolved problems he still had to face +before he could complete his hay-loading apparatus. "You tend to your +business and don't be going off on that road any more," he said, as +though speaking to another person. "Remember she's a good woman and you +haven't the right. That's all you have to do. Remember you haven't the +right," he added with a ring of command in his voice. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Hugh first saw Clara Butterworth one day in July when she had been +at home for a month. She came to his shop late one afternoon with +her father and a man who had been employed to manage the new bicycle +factory. The three got out of Tom's buggy and came into the shop to see +Hugh's new invention, the hay-loading apparatus. Tom and the man named +Alfred Buckley went to the rear of the shop, and Hugh was left alone +with the woman. She was dressed in a light summer gown and her cheeks +were flushed. Hugh stood by a bench near an open window and listened +while she talked of how much the town had changed in the three years she +had been away. "It is your doing, every one says that," she declared. + +Clara had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Hugh. She began +asking questions regarding his work and what was to come of it. "When +everything is done by machines, what are people to do?" she asked. She +seemed to take it for granted that the inventor had thought deeply +on the subject of industrial development, a subject on which Kate +Chanceller had often talked during a whole evening. Having heard Hugh +spoken of as one who had a great brain, she wanted to see the brain at +work. + +Alfred Buckley came often to her father's house and wanted to marry +Clara. In the evening the two men sat on the front porch of the +farmhouse and talked of the town and the big things that were to be done +there. They spoke of Hugh, and Buckley, an energetic, talkative fellow +with a long jaw and restless gray eyes who had come from New York City, +suggested schemes for using him. Clara gathered that there was a plan +on foot to get control of Hugh's future inventions and thereby gain an +advantage over Steve Hunter. + +The whole matter puzzled Clara. Alfred Buckley had asked her to marry +him and she had put the matter off. The proposal had been a formal +thing, not at all what she had expected from a man she was to take as a +partner for life, but Clara was at the moment very seriously determined +upon marriage. The New York man was at her father's house several +evenings every week. She had never walked about with him nor had they in +any way come close to each other. He seemed too much occupied with work +to be personal and had proposed marriage by writing her a letter. Clara +got the letter from the post-office and it upset her so that she felt +she could not for a time go into the presence of any one she knew. "I am +unworthy of you, but I want you to be my wife. I will work for you. I am +new here and you do not know me very well. All I ask is the privilege of +proving my merit. I want you to be my wife, but before I dare come and +ask you to do me so great an honor I feel I must prove myself worthy," +the letter said. + +Clara had driven into town alone on the day when she received it and +later got into her buggy and drove south past the Butterworth farm into +the hills. She forgot to go home to lunch or to the evening meal. The +horse jogged slowly along, protesting and trying to turn back at every +cross road, but she kept on and did not get home until midnight. When +she reached the farmhouse her father was waiting. He went with her into +the barnyard and helped unhitch the horse. Nothing was said, and after +a moment's conversation having nothing to do with the subject that +occupied both their minds, she went upstairs and tried to think the +matter out. She became convinced that her father had something to do +with the proposal of marriage that he knew about it and had waited for +her to come home in order to see how it had affected her. + +Clara wrote a reply that was as non-committal as the proposal itself. +"I do not know whether I want to marry you or not. I will have to become +acquainted with you. I however thank you for the offer of marriage and +when you feel that the right time has come, we will talk about it," she +wrote. + +After the exchange of letters, Alfred Buckley came to her father's +house more often than before, but he and Clara did not become better +acquainted. He did not talk to her, but to her father. Although she +did not know it, the rumor that she was to marry the New York man had +already run about town. She did not know whether her father or Buckley +had told the tale. + +On the front porch of the farmhouse through the summer evenings the two +men talked of the progress, of the town and the part they were taking +and hoped to take in its future growth. The New York man had proposed +a scheme to Tom. He was to go to Hugh and propose a contract giving the +two men an option on all his future inventions. As the inventions were +completed they were to be financed in New York City, and the two men +would give up manufacture and make money much more rapidly as promoters. +They hesitated because they were afraid of Steve Hunter, and because Tom +was afraid Hugh would not fall in with their plan. "It wouldn't surprise +me if Steve already had such a contract with him. He's a fool if he +hasn't," the older man said. + +Evening after evening the two men talked and Clara sat in the deep +shadows at the back of the porch and listened. The enmity that had +existed between herself and her father seemed to be forgotten. The man +who had asked her to marry him did not look at her, but her father did. +Buckley did most of the talking and spoke of New York City business +men, already famous throughout the Middle West as giants of finance, as +though they were his life-long friends. "They'll put over anything I ask +them to," he declared. + +Clara tried to think of Alfred Buckley as a husband. Like Hugh McVey +he was tall and gaunt but unlike the inventor, whom she had seen two +or three times on the street, he was not carelessly dressed. There was +something sleek about him, something that suggested a well-bred dog, +a hound perhaps. As he talked he leaned forward like a greyhound in +pursuit of a rabbit. His hair was carefully parted and his clothes +fitted him like the skin of an animal. He wore a diamond scarf pin. His +long jaw, it seemed to her, was always wagging. Within a few days after +the receipt of his letter she had made up her mind that she did not want +him as a husband, and she was convinced he did not want her. The whole +matter of marriage had, she was sure, been in some way suggested by her +father. When she came to that conclusion she was both angry and in +an odd way touched. She did not interpret it as fear of some sort of +indiscretion on her part, but thought that her father wanted her to +marry because he wanted her to be happy. As she sat in the darkness +on the front porch of the farmhouse the voices of the two men became +indistinct. It was as though her mind went out of her body and like a +living thing journeyed over the world. Dozens of men she had seen and +had casually addressed, young fellows attending school at Columbus and +boys of the town with whom she had gone to parties and dances when +she was a young girl, came to stand before her. She saw their figures +distinctly, but remembered them at some advantageous moment of her +contact with them. At Columbus there was a young man from a town in the +southern end of the State, one of the sort that is always in love with +a woman. During her first year in school he had noticed Clara, had +been undecided as to whether he had better pay attention to her or to a +little black-eyed town girl who was in their classes. Several times he +walked down the college hill and along the street with Clara. The two +stood at a street crossing where she was in the habit of taking a car. +Several cars went by as they stood together by a bush that grew by a +high stone wall. They talked of trivial matters, a comedy club that had +been organized in the school, the chances of victory for the football +team. The young man was one of the actors in a play to be given by +the comedy club and told Clara of his experiences at rehearsals. As he +talked his eyes began to shine and he seemed to be looking, not at +her face or body, but at something within her. For a time, perhaps for +fifteen minutes, there was a possibility that the two people would love +each other. Then the young man went away and later she saw him walking +under the trees on the college campus with the little black-eyed town +girl. + +As she sat on the porch in the darkness in the summer evenings, Clara +thought of the incident and of dozens of other swift-passing contacts +she had made with men. The voices of the two men talking of money-making +went on and on. Whenever she came back out of her introspective world of +thought, Alfred Buckley's long jaw was wagging. He was always at work, +steadily, persistently urging something on her father. It was difficult +for Clara to think of her father as a rabbit, but the notion that Alfred +Buckley was like a hound stayed with her. "The wolf and the wolfhound," +she thought absent-mindedly. + +Clara was twenty-three and seemed to herself mature. She did not +intend wasting any more time going to school and did not want to be a +professional woman, like Kate Chanceller. There was something she did +want and in a way some man, she did not know what man it would be, was +concerned in the matter. She was very hungry for love, but might have +got that from another woman. Kate Chanceller would have loved her. She +was not unconscious of the fact that their friendship had been something +more than friendship. Kate loved to hold Clara's hand and wanted to kiss +and caress her. The inclination had been put down by Kate herself, a +struggle had gone on in her, and Clara had been dimly conscious of it +and had respected Kate for making it. + +Why? Clara asked herself that question a dozen times during the early +weeks of that summer. Kate Chanceller had taught her to think. When +they were together Kate did both the thinking and the talking, but now +Clara's mind had a chance. There was something back of her desire for +a man. She wanted something more than caresses. There was a creative +impulse in her that could not function until she had been made love to +by a man. The man she wanted was but an instrument she sought in order +that she might fulfill herself. Several times during those evenings in +the presence of the two men, who talked only of making money out of the +products of another man's mind, she almost forced her mind out into a +concrete thought concerning women, and then it became again befogged. + +Clara grew tired of thinking, and listened to the talk. The name of +Hugh McVey played through the persistent conversation like a refrain. +It became fixed in her mind. The inventor was not married. By the social +system under which she lived that and that only made him a possibility +for her purposes. She began to think of the inventor, and her mind, +weary of playing about her own figure, played about the figure of the +tall, serious-looking man she had seen on Main Street. When Alfred +Buckley had driven away to town for the night, she went upstairs to her +own room but did not get into bed. Instead, she put out her light and +sat by an open window that looked out upon the orchard and from which +she could see a little stretch of the road that ran past the farm house +toward town. Every evening before Alfred Buckley went away, there was +a little scene on the front porch. When the visitor got up to go, her +father made some excuse for going indoors or around the corner of the +house into the barnyard. "I will have Jim Priest hitch up your horse," +he said and hurried away. Clara was left in the company of the man who +had pretended he wanted to marry her, and who, she was convinced, +wanted nothing of the kind. She was not embarrassed, but could feel his +embarrassment and enjoyed it. He made formal speeches. + +"Well, the night is fine," he said. Clara hugged the thought that he was +uncomfortable. "He has taken me for a green country girl, impressed +with him because he is from the city and dressed in fine clothes," she +thought. Sometimes her father stayed away five or ten minutes and she +did not say a word. When her father returned Alfred Buckley shook hands +with him and then turned to Clara, apparently now quite at his ease. "We +have bored you, I'm afraid," he said. He took her hand and leaning over, +kissed the back of it ceremoniously. Her father looked away. Clara went +upstairs and sat by the window. She could hear the two men continuing +their talk in the road before the house. After a time the front door +banged, her father came into the house and the visitor drove away. +Everything became quiet and for a long time she could hear the hoofs of +Alfred Buckley's horse beating a rapid tattoo on the road that led down +into town. + +Clara thought of Hugh McVey. Alfred Buckley had spoken of him as a +backwoodsman with a streak of genius. He constantly harped on the notion +that he and Tom could use the man for their own ends, and she wondered +if both of the men were making as great a mistake about the inventor as +they were about her. In the silent summer night, when the sound of the +horse's hoofs had died away and when her father had quit stirring about +the house, she heard another sound. The corn-cutting machine factory +was very busy and had put on a night shift. When the night was still, or +when there was a slight breeze blowing up the hill from town, there +was a low rumbling sound coming from many machines working in wood and +steel, followed at regular intervals by the steady breathing of a steam +engine. + +The woman at the window, like every one else in her town and in all the +towns of the mid-western country, became touched with the idea of the +romance of industry. The dreams of the Missouri boy that he had fought, +had by the strength of his persistency twisted into new channels so +that they had expressed themselves in definite things, in corn-cutting +machines and in machines for unloading coal cars and for gathering hay +out of a field and loading it on wagons without aid of human hands, were +still dreams and capable of arousing dreams in others. They awoke dreams +in the mind of the woman. The figures of other men that had been playing +through her mind slipped away and but the one figure remained. Her mind +made up stories concerning Hugh. She had read the absurd tale that had +been printed in the Cleveland paper and her fancy took hold of it. Like +every other citizen of America she believed in heroes. In books and +magazines she had read of heroic men who had come up out of poverty +by some strange alchemy to combine in their stout persons all of the +virtues. The broad, rich land demanded gigantic figures, and the minds +of men had created the figures. Lincoln, Grant, Garfield, Sherman, and a +half dozen other men were something more than human in the minds of +the generation that came immediately after the days of their stirring +performance. Already industry was creating a new set of semi-mythical +figures. The factory at work in the night-time in the town of Bidwell +became, to the mind of the woman sitting by the window in the farm +house, not a factory but a powerful animal, a powerful beast-like thing +that Hugh had tamed and made useful to his fellows. Her mind ran +forward and took the taming of the beast for granted. The hunger of her +generation found a voice in her. Like every one else she wanted heroes, +and Hugh, to whom she had never talked and about whom she knew nothing, +became a hero. Her father, Alfred Buckley, Steve Hunter and the rest +were after all pigmies. Her father was a schemer; he had even schemed +to get her married, perhaps to further his own plans. In reality his +schemes were so ineffective that she did not need to be angry with him. +There was but one man of them all who was not a schemer. Hugh was what +she wanted to be. He was a creative force. In his hands dead inanimate +things became creative forces. He was what she wanted not herself +but perhaps a son, to be. The thought, at last definitely expressed, +startled Clara, and she arose from the chair by the window and prepared +to go to bed. Something within her body ached, but she did not allow +herself to pursue further the thoughts she had been having. + +On the day when she went with her father and Alfred Buckley to visit +Hugh's shop, Clara knew that she wanted to marry the man she would see +there. The thought was not expressed in her but slept like a seed newly +planted in fertile soil. She had herself managed that she be taken to +the factory and had also managed that she be left with Hugh while the +two men went to look at the half-completed hay-loader at the back of the +shop. + +She had begun talking to Hugh while the four people stood on the little +grass plot before the shop. They went inside and her father and Buckley +went through a door toward the rear. She stopped by a bench and as she +continued talking Hugh was compelled to stop and stand beside her. She +asked questions, paid him vague compliments, and as he struggled, trying +to make conversation, she studied him. To cover his confusion he half +turned away and looked out through a window into Turner's Pike. His +eyes, she decided, were nice. They were somewhat small, but there was +something gray and cloudy in them, and the gray cloudiness gave her +confidence in the person behind the eyes. She could, she felt, trust +him. There was something in his eyes that was like the things most +grateful to her own nature, the sky seen across an open stretch of +country or over a river that ran straight away into the distance. Hugh's +hair was coarse like the mane of a horse, and his nose was like the nose +of a horse. He was, she decided, very like a horse; an honest, powerful +horse, a horse that was humanized by the mysterious, hungering thing +that expressed itself through his eyes. "If I have to live with an +animal; if, as Kate Chanceller once said, we women have to decide what +other animal we are to live with before we can begin being humans, +I would rather live with a strong, kindly horse than a wolf or a +wolfhound," she found herself thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Hugh had no suspicion that Clara had him under consideration as a +possible husband. He knew nothing about her, but after she went away he +began to think. She was a woman and good to look upon and at once took +Rose McCoy's place in his mind. All unloved men and many who are loved +play in a half subconscious way with the figures of many women as +women's minds play with the figures of men, seeing them in many +situations, vaguely caressing them, dreaming of closer contacts. With +Hugh the impulse toward women had started late, but it was becoming +every day more active. When he talked to Clara and while she stayed +in his presence, he was more embarrassed than he had ever been before, +because he was more conscious of her than he had ever been of any other +woman. In secret he was not the modest man he thought himself. The +success of his corn-cutting machine and his car-dumping apparatus and +the respect, amounting almost to worship, he sometimes saw in the eyes +of the people of the Ohio town had fed his vanity. It was a time when +all America was obsessed with one idea, and to the people of Bidwell +nothing could be more important, necessary and vital to progress than +the things Hugh had done. He did not walk and talk like the other people +of the town, and his body was over-large and loosely put together, but +in secret he did not want to be different even in a physical way. Now +and then there came an opportunity for a test of physical strength: an +iron bar was to be lifted or a part of some heavy machine swung into +place in the shop. In such a test he had found he could lift almost +twice the load another could handle. Two men grunted and strained, +trying to lift a heavy bar off the floor and put it on a bench. He came +along and did the job alone and without apparent effort. + +In his room at night or in the late afternoon or evening in the summer +when he walked on country roads, he sometimes felt keen hunger for +recognition of his merits from his fellows, and having no one to praise +him, he praised himself. When the Governor of the State spoke in praise +of him before a crowd and when he made Rose McCoy come away because it +seemed immodest for him to stay and hear such words, he found himself +unable to sleep. After tossing in his bed for two or three hours he got +up and crept quietly out of the house. He was like a man who, having +an unmusical voice, sings to himself in a bath-room while the water +is making a loud, splashing noise. On that night Hugh wanted to be an +orator. As he stumbled in the darkness along Turner's Pike he imagined +himself Governor of a State addressing a multitude of people. A mile +north of Pickleville a dense thicket grew beside the road, and Hugh +stopped and addressed the young trees and bushes. In the darkness +the mass of bushes looked not unlike a crowd standing at attention, +listening. The wind blew and played in the thick, dry growth and there +was a sound as of many voices whispering words of encouragement. Hugh +said many foolish things. Expressions he had heard from the lips of +Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth came into his mind and were repeated +by his lips. He spoke of the swift growth that had come to the town of +Bidwell as though it were an unmixed blessing, the factories, the homes +of happy, contented people, the coming of industrial development as +something akin to a visit of the gods. Rising to the height of egotism +he shouted, "I have done it. I have done it." + +Hugh heard a buggy coming along the road and fled into the thicket. A +farmer, who had gone to town for the evening and who had stayed after +the political meeting to talk with other farmers in Ben Head's saloon, +went homeward, asleep in his buggy. His head nodded up and down, heavy +with the vapors rising from many glasses of beer. Hugh came out of the +thicket feeling somewhat ashamed. The next day he wrote a letter to +Sarah Shepherd and told her of his progress. "If you or Henry want any +money, I can let you have all you want," he wrote, and did not resist +the temptation to tell her something of what the Governor had said of +his work and his mind. "Anyway they must think I amount to something +whether I do or not," he said wistfully. + +Having awakened to his own importance in the life about him, Hugh wanted +direct, human appreciation. After the failure of the effort both he and +Rose had made to break through the wall of embarrassment and reserve +that kept them apart, he knew pretty definitely that he wanted a woman, +and the idea, once fixed in his mind, grew to gigantic proportions. All +women became interesting, and he looked with hungry eyes at the wives +of the workmen who sometimes came to the shop door to pass a word with +their husbands, at young farm girls who drove along Turner's Pike on +summer afternoons, town girls who walked in the Bidwell Main Street in +the evening, at fair women and dark women. As he wanted a woman more +consciously and determinedly he became more afraid of individual women. +His success and his association with the workmen in his shop had made +him less self-conscious in the presence of men, but the women were +different. In their presence he was ashamed of his secret thoughts of +them. + +On the day when he was left alone with Clara, Tom Butterworth and Alfred +Buckley stayed at the back of the shop for nearly twenty minutes. It +was a hot day and beads of sweat stood on Hugh's face. His sleeves were +rolled to his elbows and his hands and hairy arms were covered with shop +grime. He put up his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, leaving +a long, black mark. Then he became aware of the fact that as she talked +the woman looked at him in an absorbed, almost calculating way. It was +as though he were a horse and she were a buyer examining him to be sure +he was sound and of a kindly disposition. While she stood beside him her +eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed. The awakening, assertive +male thing in him whispered that the flush on her cheeks and the shining +eyes were indicative of something. His mind had been taught that lesson +by the slight and wholly unsatisfactory experience with the school +teacher at his boarding-house. + +Clara drove away from the shop with her father and Alfred Buckley. Tom +drove and Alfred Buckley leaned forward and talked. "You must find out +whether or not Steve has an option on the new tool. It would be foolish +to ask outright and give ourselves away. That inventor is stupid and +vain. Those fellows always are. They appear to be quiet and shrewd, but +they always let the cat out of the bag. The thing to do is to flatter +him in some way. A woman could find out all he knows in ten minutes." He +turned to Clara and smiled. There was something infinitely impertinent +in the fixed, animal-like stare of his eyes. "We do take you into our +plans, your father and me, eh?" he said. "You must be careful not to +give us away when you talk to that inventor." + +From his shop window Hugh stared at the backs of the heads of the three +people. The top of Tom Butterworth's buggy had been let down, and when +he talked Alfred Buckley leaned forward and his head disappeared. Hugh +thought Clara must look like the kind of woman men meant when they spoke +of a lady. The farmer's daughter had an instinct for clothes, and Hugh's +mind got the idea of gentility by way of the medium of clothes. He +thought the dress she had worn the most stylish thing he had ever seen. +Clara's friend Kate Chanceller, while mannish in her dress, had an +instinct for style and had taught Clara some valuable lessons. "Any +woman can dress well if she knows how," Kate had declared. She had +taught Clara how to study and emphasize by dress the good points of her +body. Beside Clara, Rose McCoy looked dowdy and commonplace. + +Hugh went to the rear of his shop to where there was a water-tap and +washed his hands. Then he went to a bench and tried to take up the work +he had been doing. Within five minutes he went to wash his hands again. +He went out of the shop and stood beside the small stream that rippled +along beneath willow bushes and disappeared under the bridge beneath +Turner's Pike, and then went back for his coat and quit work for the +day. An instinct led him to go past the creek again and he knelt on the +grass at the edge and again washed his hands. + +Hugh's growing vanity was fed by the thought that Clara was interested +in him, but it was not yet strong enough to sustain the thought. He took +a long walk, going north from the shop along Turner's Pike for two or +three miles and then by a cross road between corn and cabbage fields to +where he could, by crossing a meadow, get into a wood. For an hour he +sat on a log at the wood's edge and looked south. Away in the distance, +over the roofs of the houses of the town, he could see a white speck +against a background of green--the Butterworth farm house. Almost at +once he decided that the thing he had seen in Clara's eyes and that was +sister to something he had seen in Rose McCoy's eyes had nothing to do +with him. The mantle of vanity he had been wearing dropped off and left +him naked and sad. "What would she be wanting of me?" he asked himself, +and got up from the log to look with critical eyes at his long, bony +body. For the first time in two or three years he thought of the words +so often repeated in his presence by Sarah Shepard in the first few +months after he left his father's shack by the shore of the Mississippi +River and came to work at the railroad station. She had called his +people lazy louts and poor white trash and had railed against his +inclination to dreams. By struggle and work he had conquered the dreams +but could not conquer his ancestry, nor change the fact that he was at +bottom poor white trash. With a shudder of disgust he saw himself again +a boy in ragged clothes that smelled of fish, lying stupid and half +asleep in the grass beside the Mississippi River. He forgot the majesty +of the dreams that sometimes came to him, and only remembered the swarms +of flies that, attracted by the filth of their clothes, hovered over him +and over the drunken father who lay sleeping beside him. + +A lump arose in his throat and for a moment he was consumed with +self-pity. Then he went out of the wood, crossed the field, and with +his peculiar, long, shambling gait that got him over the ground with +surprising rapidity, went again along the road. Had there been a stream +nearby he would have been tempted to tear off his clothes and plunge +in. The notion that he could ever become a man who would in any way be +attractive to a woman like Clara Butterworth seemed the greatest folly +in the world. "She's a lady. What would she be wanting of me? I ain't +fitten for her. I ain't fitten for her," he said aloud, unconsciously +falling into the dialect of his father. + +Hugh walked the entire afternoon away and in the evening went back to +his shop and worked until midnight. So energetically did he work that +several knotty problems in the construction of the hay-loading apparatus +were cleared away. + +On the second evening after the encounter with Clara, Hugh went for a +walk in the streets of Bidwell. He thought of the work on which he had +been engaged all day and then of the woman he had made up his mind he +could under no circumstances win. As darkness came on he went into +the country, and at nine returned along the railroad tracks past the +corn-cutter factory. The factory was working day and night, and the new +plant, also beside the tracks and but a short distance away, was almost +completed. Behind the new plant was a field Tom Butterworth and Steve +Hunter had bought and laid out in streets of workingmen's houses. The +houses were cheaply constructed and ugly, and in all directions there +was a vast disorder; but Hugh did not see the disorder or the ugliness +of the buildings. The sight that lay before him strengthened his waning +vanity. Something of the loose shuffle went out of his stride and he +threw back his shoulders. "What I have done here amounts to something. +I'm all right," he thought, and had almost reached the old corn-cutter +plant when several men came out of a side door and getting upon the +tracks, walked before him. + +In the corn-cutter plant something had happened that excited the men. +Ed Hall the superintendent had played a trick on his fellow townsmen. He +had put on overalls and gone to work at a bench in a long room with some +fifty other men. "I'm going to show you up," he said, laughing. "You +watch me. We're behind on the work and I'm going to show you up." + +The pride of the workmen had been touched, and for two weeks they had +worked like demons to outdo the boss. At night when the amount of +work done was calculated, they laughed at Ed. Then they heard that the +piece-work plan was to be installed in the factory, and were afraid they +would be paid by a scale calculated on the amount of work done during +the two weeks of furious effort. + +The workman who stumbled along the tracks cursed Ed Hall and the men for +whom he worked. "I lost six hundred dollars in the plant-setting machine +failure and this is all I get, to be played a trick on by a young suck +like Ed Hall," a voice grumbled. Another voice took up the refrain. +In the dim light Hugh could see the speaker, a man with a bent back, a +product of the cabbage fields, who had come to town to find employment. +Although he did not recognize it, he had heard the voice before. It came +from a son of the cabbage farmer, Ezra French and was the same voice he +had once heard complaining at night as the French boys crawled across a +cabbage field in the moonlight. The man now said something that startled +Hugh. "Well," he declared, "it's a joke on me. I quit Dad and made him +sore; now he won't take me back again. He says I'm a quitter and no +good. I thought I'd come to town to a factory and find it easier here. +Now I've got married and have to stick to my job no matter what they +do. In the country I worked like a dog a few weeks a year, but here I'll +probably have to work like that all the time. It's the way things go. I +thought it was mighty funny, all this talk about the factory work being +so easy. I wish the old days were back. I don't see how that inventor or +his inventions ever helped us workers. Dad was right about him. He said +an inventor wouldn't do nothing for workers. He said it would be better +to tar and feather that telegraph operator. I guess Dad was right." + +The swagger went out of Hugh's walk and he stopped to let the men pass +out of sight and hearing along the track. When they had gone a little +away a quarrel broke out. Each man felt the others must be in some way +responsible for his betrayal in the matter of the contest with Ed Hall +and accusations flew back and forth. One of the men threw a heavy stone +that ran down along the tracks and jumped into a ditch filled with +dry weeds. It made a heavy crashing sound. Hugh heard heavy footsteps +running. He was afraid the men were going to attack him, and climbed +over a fence, crossed a barnyard, and got into an empty street. As he +went along trying to understand what had happened and why the men were +angry, he met Clara Butterworth, standing and apparently waiting for him +under a street lamp. + + * * * * * + +Hugh walked beside Clara, too perplexed to attempt to understand the new +impulses crowding in upon his mind. She explained her presence in the +street by saying she had been to town to mail a letter and intended +walking home by a side road. "You may come with me if you're just +out for a walk," she said. The two walked in silence. Hugh's mind, +unaccustomed to traveling in wide circles, centered on his companion. +Life seemed suddenly to be crowding him along strange roads. In two +days he had felt more new emotions and had felt them more deeply than he +would have thought possible to a human being. The hour through which +he had just passed had been extraordinary. He had started out from his +boarding-house sad and depressed. Then he had come by the factories and +pride in what he thought he had accomplished swept in on him. Now it +was apparent the workers in the factories were not happy, that there was +something the matter. He wondered if Clara would know what was wrong +and would tell him if he asked. He wanted to ask many questions. "That's +what I want a woman for. I want some one close to me who understands +things and will tell me about them," he thought. Clara remained silent +and Hugh decided that she, like the complaining workman stumbling along +the tracks, did not like him. The man had said he wished Hugh had never +come to town. Perhaps every one in Bidwell secretly felt that way. + +Hugh was no longer proud of himself and his achievements. Perplexity had +captured him. When he and Clara got out of town into a country road, he +began thinking of Sarah Shepard, who had been friendly and kind to him +when he was a lad, and wished she were with him, or better yet that +Clara would take the attitude toward him she had taken. Had Clara taken +it into her head to scold as Sarah Shepard had done he would have been +relieved. + +Instead Clara walked in silence, thinking of her own affairs and +planning to use Hugh for her own ends. It had been a perplexing day +for her. Late that afternoon there had been a scene between her and +her father and she had left home and come to town because she could no +longer bear being in his presence. When she had seen Hugh coming toward +her she had stopped under a street lamp to wait for him. "I could set +everything straight by getting him to ask me to marry him," she thought. + +The new difficulty that had arisen between Clara and her father was +something with which she had nothing to do. Tom, who thought himself so +shrewd and crafty, had been taken in by the city man, Alfred Buckley. A +federal officer had come to town during the afternoon to arrest Buckley. +The man had turned out to be a notorious swindler wanted in several +cities. In New York he had been one of a gang who distributed +counterfeit money, and in other states he was wanted for swindling +women, two of whom he married unlawfully. + +The arrest had been like a shot fired at Tom by a member of his own +household. He had almost come to think of Alfred Buckley as one of his +family, and as he drove rapidly along the road toward home, he had been +profoundly sorry for his daughter and had intended to ask her to forgive +him for his part in betraying her into a false position. That he had +not openly committed himself to any of Buckley's schemes, had signed no +papers and written no letters that would betray the conspiracy he had +entered into against Steve, filled him with joy. He had intended to be +generous, and even, if necessary, confess to Clara his indiscretion in +talking of a possible marriage, but when he got to the farm house and +had taken Clara into the parlor and had closed the door, he changed +his mind. He told her of Buckley's arrest, and then started tramping +excitedly up and down in the room. Her coolness infuriated him. "Don't +set there like a clam!" he shouted. "Don't you know what's happened? +Don't you know you're disgraced, have brought disgrace on my name?" + +The angry father explained that half the town knew of her engagement to +marry Alfred Buckley, and when Clara declared they were not engaged and +that she had never intended marrying the man, his anger did not abate. +He had himself whispered the suggestion about town, had told Steve +Hunter, Gordon Hart, and two or three others, that Alfred Buckley and +his daughter would no doubt do what he spoke of as "hitting it off," and +they had of course told their wives. The fact that he had betrayed his +daughter into an ugly position gnawed at his consciousness. "I suppose +the rascal told it himself," he said, in reply to her statement, and +again gave way to anger. He glared at his daughter and wished she were +a son so he could strike with his fists. His voice arose to a shout and +could be heard in the barnyard where Jim Priest and a young farm +hand were at work. They stopped work and listened. "She's been up to +something. Do you suppose some man has got her in trouble?" the young +farm hand asked. + +In the house Tom expressed his old dissatisfaction with his daughter. +"Why haven't you married and settled down like a decent woman?" he +shouted. "Tell me that. Why haven't you married and settled down? Why +are you always getting in trouble? Why haven't you married and settled +down?" + + * * * * * + +Clara walked in the road beside Hugh and thought that all her troubles +would come to an end if he would ask her to be his wife. Then she +became ashamed of her thoughts. As they passed the last street lamp and +prepared to set out by a roundabout way along a dark road, she turned +to look at Hugh's long, serious face. The tradition that had made him +appear different from other men in the eyes of the people of Bidwell +began to affect her. Ever since she had come home she had been hearing +people speak of him with something like awe in their voices. For her to +marry the town's hero would, she knew, set her on a high place in the +eyes of her people. It would be a triumph for her and would re-establish +her, not only in her father's eyes but in the eyes of every one. Every +one seemed to think she should marry; even Jim Priest had said so. He +had said she was the marrying kind. Here was her chance. She wondered +why she did not want to take it. + +Clara had written her friend Kate Chanceller a letter in which she had +declared her intention of leaving home and going to work, and had come +to town afoot to mail it. On Main Street as she went through the crowds +of men who had come to loaf the evening away before the stores, the +force of what her father had said concerning the connection of her name +with that of Buckley the swindler had struck her for the first time. The +men were gathered together in groups, talking excitedly. No doubt they +were discussing Buckley's arrest. Her own name was, no doubt, being +bandied about. Her cheeks burned and a keen hatred of mankind had +possession of her. Now her hatred of others awoke in her an almost +worshipful attitude toward Hugh. By the time they had walked together +for five minutes all thought of using him to her own ends had gone. +"He's not like Father or Henderson Woodburn or Alfred Buckley," she told +herself. "He doesn't scheme and twist things about trying to get the +best of some one else. He works, and because of his efforts things are +accomplished." The figure of the farm hand Jim Priest working in a field +of corn came to her mind. "The farm hand works," she thought, "and the +corn grows. This man sticks to his task in his shop and makes a town +grow." + +In her father's presence during the afternoon Clara had remained calm +and apparently indifferent to his tirade. In town in the presence of the +men she was sure were attacking her character, she had been angry, ready +to fight. Now she wanted to put her head on Hugh's shoulder and cry. + +They came to the bridge near where the road turned and led to her +father's house. It was the same bridge to which she had come with the +school teacher and to which John May had followed, looking for a fight. +Clara stopped. She did not want any one at the house to know that Hugh +had walked home with her. "Father is so set on my getting married, he +would go to see him to-morrow," she thought. She put her arms upon the +rail of the bridge and bending over buried her face between them. Hugh +stood behind her, turning his head from side to side and rubbing his +hands on his trouser legs, beside himself with embarrassment. There was +a flat, swampy field beside the road and not far from the bridge, and +after a moment of silence the voices of a multitude of frogs broke the +stillness. Hugh became overwhelmingly sad. The notion that he was a big +man and deserved to have a woman to live with and understand him went +entirely away. For the moment he wanted to be a boy and put his head on +the shoulder of the woman. He did not look at Clara but at himself. +In the dim light his hands, nervously fumbling about, his long, +loosely-put-together body, everything connected with his person, seemed +ugly and altogether unattractive. He could see the woman's small firm +hands that lay on the railing of the bridge. They were, he thought, like +everything connected with her person, shapely and beautiful, just as +everything connected with his own person was unshapely and ugly. + +Clara aroused herself from the meditative mood that had taken possession +of her, and after shaking Hugh's hand and explaining that she did not +want him to go further went away. When he thought she had quite gone she +came back. "You'll hear I was engaged to that Alfred Buckley who has got +into trouble and has been arrested," she said. Hugh did not reply and +her voice became sharp and a little challenging. "You'll hear we were +going to be married. I don't know what you'll hear. It's a lie," she +said and turning, hurried away. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Hugh and Clara were married in less than a week after their first walk +together. A chain of circumstances touching their two lives hurled them +into marriage, and the opportunity for the intimacy with a woman for +which Hugh so longed came to him with a swiftness that made him fairly +dizzy. + +It was a Wednesday evening and cloudy. After dining in silence with his +landlady, Hugh started along Turner's Pike toward Bidwell, but when he +had got almost into town, turned back. He had left the house intending +to go through town to the Medina Road and to the woman who now occupied +so large a place in his thoughts, but hadn't the courage. Every evening +for almost a week he had taken the walk, and every evening and at almost +the same spot he turned back. He was disgusted and angry with himself +and went to his shop, walking in the middle of the road and kicking up +clouds of dust. People passed along the path under the trees at the side +of the road and turned to stare at him. A workingman with a fat wife, +who puffed as she walked at his side, turned to look and then began to +scold. "I tell you what, old woman, I shouldn't have married and had +kids," he grumbled. "Look at me, then look at that fellow. He goes along +there thinking big thoughts that will make him richer and richer. I have +to work for two dollars a day, and pretty soon I'll be old and thrown on +the scrap-heap. I might have been a rich inventor like him had I given +myself a chance." + +The workman went on his way, grumbling at his wife who paid no attention +to his words. Her breath was needed for the labor of walking, and as for +the matter of marriage, that had been attended to. She saw no reason for +wasting words over the matter. Hugh went to the shop and stood leaning +against the door frame. Two or three workmen were busy near the back +door and had lighted gas lamps that hung over the work benches. They did +not see Hugh, and their voices ran through the empty building. One of +them, an old man with a bald head, entertained his fellows by giving +an imitation of Steve Hunter. He lighted a cigar and putting on his hat +tipped it a little to one side. Puffing out his chest he marched up and +down talking of money. "Here's a ten-dollar cigar," he said, handing a +long stogie to one of the other workmen. "I buy them by the thousands to +give away. I'm interested in uplifting the lives of workmen in my home +town. That's what takes all my attention." + +The other workmen laughed and the little man continued to prance up +and down and talk, but Hugh did not hear him. He stared moodily at the +people going along the road toward town. Darkness was coming but he +could still see dim figures striding along. Over at the foundry back of +the corn-cutting machine plant the night shift was pouring off, and a +sudden glare of light played across the heavy smoke cloud that lay +over the town. The bells of the churches began to call people to the +Wednesday evening prayer-meetings. Some enterprising citizen had begun +to build workmen's houses in a field beyond Hugh's shop and these were +occupied by Italian laborers. A crowd of them came past. What would some +day be a tenement district was growing in a field beside a cabbage patch +belonging to Ezra French who had said God would not permit men to change +the field of their labors. + +An Italian passed under a lamp near the Wheeling station. He wore +a bright red handkerchief about his neck and was clad in a brightly +colored shirt. Like the other people of Bidwell, Hugh did not like to +see foreigners about. He did not understand them and when he saw them +going about the streets in groups, was a little afraid. It was a man's +duty, he thought, to look as much as possible like all his fellow men, +to lose himself in the crowds, and these fellows did not look like other +men. They loved color, and as they talked they made rapid gestures with +their hands. The Italian in the road was with a woman of his own race, +and in the growing darkness put his arm about her shoulder. Hugh's heart +began to beat rapidly and he forgot his American prejudices. He wished +he were a workman and that Clara were a workman's daughter. Then, he +thought, he might find courage to go to her. His imagination, quickened +by the flame of desire and running in new channels, made it possible for +him, at the moment to see himself in the young Italian's place, walking +in the road with Clara. She was clad in a calico dress and her soft +brown eyes looked at him full of love and understanding. + +The three workingmen had completed the job for which they had come back +to work after the evening meal, and now turned out the lights and came +toward the front of the shop. Hugh drew back from the door and concealed +himself by standing in the heavy shadows by the wall. So realistic were +his thoughts of Clara that he did not want them intruded upon. + +The workmen went out of the shop door and stood talking. The bald-headed +man was telling a tale to which the others listened eagerly. "It's all +over town," he said. "From what I hear every one say it isn't the first +time she's been in such a mess. Old Tom Butterworth claimed he sent her +away to school three years ago, but now they say that isn't the truth. +What they say is that she was in the family way to one of her father's +farm hands and had to get out of town." The man laughed. "Lord, if Clara +Butterworth was my daughter she'd be in a nice fix, wouldn't she, eh?" +he said, laughing. "As it is, she's all right. She's gone now and got +herself mixed up with this swindler Buckley, but her father's money will +make it all right. If she's going to have a kid, no one'll know. Maybe +she's already had the kid. They say she's a regular one for the men." + +As the man talked Hugh came to the door and stood in the darkness +listening. For a time the words would not penetrate his consciousness, +and then he remembered what Clara had said. She had said something about +Alfred Buckley and that there would be a story connecting her name with +his. She had been hot and angry and had declared the story a lie. Hugh +did not know what the story was about, but it was evident there was a +story abroad, a scandalous story concerning her and Alfred Buckley. A +hot, impersonal anger took possession of him. "She's in trouble--here's +my chance," he thought. His tall figure straightened and as he stepped +through the shop door his head struck sharply against the door frame, +but he did not feel the blow that at another time might have knocked him +down. During his whole life he had never struck any one with his fists, +and had never felt a desire to do so, but now hunger to strike and even +to kill took complete possession of him. With a cry of rage his fist +shot out and the old man who had done the talking was knocked senseless +into a clump of weeds that grew near the door. Hugh whirled and struck +a second man who fell through the open doorway into the shop. The third +man ran away into the darkness along Turner's Pike. + +Hugh walked rapidly to town and through Main Street. He saw Tom +Butterworth walking in the street with Steve Hunter, but turned a corner +to avoid a meeting. "My chance has come," he kept saying to himself +as he hurried along Medina Road. "Clara's in some kind of trouble. My +chance has come." + +By the time he got to the door of the Butterworth house, Hugh's +new-found courage had almost left him, but before it had quite gone he +raised his hand and knocked on the door. By good fortune Clara came to +open it. Hugh took off his hat and turned it awkwardly in his hands. +"I came out here to ask you to marry me," he said. "I want you to be my +wife. Will you do it?" + +Clara stepped out of the house and closed the door. A whirl of thoughts +ran through her brain. For a moment she felt like laughing, and then +what there was in her of her father's shrewdness came to her rescue. +"Why shouldn't I do it?" she thought. "Here's my chance. This man is +excited and upset now, but he is a man I can respect. It's the best +marriage I'll ever have a chance to make. I do not love him, but perhaps +that will come. This may be the way marriages are made." + +Clara put out her hand and laid it on Hugh's arm. "Well," she said, +hesitatingly, "you wait here a moment." + +She went into the house and left Hugh standing in the darkness. He was +terribly afraid. It seemed to him that every secret desire of his +life had got itself suddenly and bluntly expressed. He felt naked and +ashamed. "If she comes out and says she'll marry me, what will I do? +What'll I do then?" he asked himself. + +When she did come out Clara wore her hat and a long coat. "Come," she +said, and led him around the house and through the barnyard to one of +the barns. She went into a dark stall and led forth a horse and with +Hugh's help pulled a buggy out of a shed into the barnyard. "If we're +going to do it there's no use putting it off," she said with a trembling +voice. "We might as well go to the county seat and do it at once." + +The horse was hitched and Clara got into the buggy. Hugh climbed in and +sat beside her. She had started to drive out of the barnyard when Jim +Priest stepped suddenly out of the darkness and took hold of the horse's +head. Clara held the buggy whip in her hand and raised it to hit the +horse. A desperate determination that nothing should interfere with her +marriage with Hugh had taken possession of her. "If necessary I'll +ride the man down," she thought. Jim came to stand beside the buggy. +He looked past Clara at Hugh. "I thought maybe it was that Buckley," he +said. He put a hand on the buggy dash and laid the other on Clara's arm. +"You're a woman now, Clara, and I guess you know what you're doing. I +guess you know I'm your friend," he said slowly. "You been in trouble, +I know. I couldn't help hearing what your father said to you about +Buckley, he talked so loud. Clara, I don't want to see you get into +trouble." + +The farm hand stepped away from the buggy and then came back and again +put his hand on Clara's arm. The silence that lay over the barnyard +lasted until the woman felt she could speak without a break in her +voice. + +"I'm not going very far, Jim," she said, laughing nervously. "This is +Mr. Hugh McVey and we're going over to the county seat to get married. +We'll be back home before midnight. You put a candle in the window for +us." + +Hitting the horse a sharp blow, Clara drove quickly past the house and +into the road. She turned south into the hill country through which lay +the road to the county seat. As the horse trotted quickly along, the +voice of Jim Priest called to her out of the darkness of the barnyard, +but she did not stop. The afternoon and evening had been cloudy and the +night was dark. She was glad of that. As the horse went swiftly along +she turned to look at Hugh who sat up very stiffly on the buggy seat and +stared straight ahead. The long horse-like face of the Missourian +with its huge nose and deeply furrowed cheeks was ennobled by the soft +darkness, and a tender feeling crept over her. When he had asked her +to become his wife, Clara had pounced like a wild animal abroad seeking +prey and the thing in her that was like her father, hard, shrewd and +quick-witted, had led her to decide to see the thing through at once. +Now she became ashamed, and her tender mood took the hardness and +shrewdness away. "This man and I have a thousand things we should say +to each other before we rush into marriage," she thought, and was half +inclined to turn the horse and drive back. She wondered if Hugh had also +heard the stories connecting her name with that of Buckley, the stories +she was sure were now running from lip to lip through the streets of +Bidwell, and what version of the tale had been carried to him. "Perhaps +he came to propose marriage in order to protect me," she thought, and +decided that if he had come for that reason she was taking an unfair +advantage. "It is what Kate Chanceller would call 'doing the man a +dirty, low-down trick,'" she told herself; but even as the thought came +she leaned forward and touching the horse with the whip urged him even +more swiftly along the road. + +A mile south of the Butterworth farmhouse the road to the county seat +crossed the crest of a hill, the highest point in the county, and from +the road there was a magnificent view of the country lying to the south. +The sky had begun to clear, and as they reached the point known as +Lookout Hill, the moon broke through a tangle of clouds. Clara stopped +the horse and turned to look down the hillside. Below lay the lights of +her father's farmhouse--where he had come as a young man and to which +long ago he had brought his bride. Far below the farmhouse a clustered +mass of lights outlined the swiftly growing town. The determination +that had carried Clara thus far wavered again and a lump came into her +throat. + +Hugh also turned to look but did not see the dark beauty of the country +wearing its night jewels of lights. The woman he wanted so passionately +and of whom he was so afraid had her face turned from him, and he dared +to look at her. He saw the sharp curve of her breasts and in the dim +light her cheeks seemed to glow with beauty. An odd notion came to him. +In the uncertain light her face seemed to move independent of her body. +It drew near him and then drew away. Once he thought the dimly seen +white cheek would touch his own. He waited breathless. A flame of desire +ran through his body. + +Hugh's mind flew back through the years to his boyhood and young +manhood. In the river town when he was a boy the raftsmen and hangers-on +of the town's saloons, who had sometimes come to spend an afternoon on +the river banks with his father John McVey, often spoke of women and +marriage. As they lay on the burned grass in the warm sunlight they +talked and the boy who lay half asleep nearby listened. The voices came +to him as though out of the clouds or up out of the lazy waters of the +great river and the talk of women awoke his boyhood lusts. One of the +men, a tall young fellow with a mustache and with dark rings under his +eyes, told in a lazy, drawling voice the tale of an adventure had with +a woman one night when a raft on which he was employed had tied up near +the city of St. Louis, and Hugh listened enviously. As he told the tale +the young man a little awoke from his stupor, and when he laughed the +other men lying about laughed with him. "I got the best of her after +all," he boasted. "After it was all over we went into a little room at +the back of a saloon. I watched my chance and when she went to sleep +sitting in a chair I took eight dollars out of her stocking." + +That night in the buggy beside Clara, Hugh thought of himself lying +by the river bank on the summer days. Dreams had come to him there, +sometimes gigantic dreams; but there had also come ugly thoughts and +desires. By his father's shack there was always the sharp rancid smell +of decaying fish and swarms of flies filled the air. Out in the clean +Ohio country, in the hills south of Bidwell, it seemed to him that the +smell of decaying fish came back, that it was in his clothes, that it +had in some way worked its way into his nature. He put up his hand +and swept it across his face, an unconscious return of the perpetual +movement of brushing flies away from his face as he lay half asleep by +the river. + +Little lustful thoughts kept coming to Hugh and made him ashamed. He +moved restlessly in the buggy seat and a lump came into his throat. +Again he looked at Clara. "I'm a poor white," he thought. "It isn't +fitten I should marry this woman." + +From the high spot in the road Clara looked down at her father's house +and below at the lights of the town, that had already spread so far over +the countryside, and up through the hills toward the farm where she had +spent her girlhood and where, as Jim Priest had said, "the sap had +begun to run up the tree." She began to love the man who was to be +her husband, but like the dreamers of the town, saw him as something +a little inhuman, as a man almost gigantic in his bigness. Many things +Kate Chanceller had said as the two developing women walked and talked +in the streets of Columbus came back to her mind. When they had started +again along the road she continually worried the horse by tapping him +with the whip. Like Kate, Clara wanted to be fair and square. "A woman +should be fair and square, even with a man," Kate had said. "The man I'm +going to have as a husband is simple and honest," she thought. "If +there are things down there in town that are not square and fair, he +had nothing to do with them." Realizing a little Hugh's difficulty +in expressing what he must feel, she wanted to help him, but when she +turned and saw how he did not look at her but continually stared into +the darkness, pride kept her silent. "I'll have to wait until he's +ready. Already I've taken things too much into my own hands. I'll put +through this marriage, but when it comes to anything else he'll have to +begin," she told herself, and a lump came into her throat and tears to +her eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +As he stood alone in the barnyard, excited at the thought of the +adventure on which Clara and Hugh had set out, Jim Priest remembered Tom +Butterworth. For more than thirty years Jim had worked for Tom and they +had one strong impulse that bound them together--their common love of +fine horses. More than once the two men had spent an afternoon together +in the grand stand at the fall trotting meeting at Cleveland. In the +late morning of such a day Tom found Jim wandering from stall to stall, +looking at the horses being rubbed down and prepared for the afternoon's +races. In a generous mood he bought his employee's lunch and took him to +a seat in the grand stand. All afternoon the two men watched the races, +smoked and quarreled. Tom contended that Bud Doble, the debonair, the +dramatic, the handsome, was the greatest of all race horse drivers, and +Jim Priest held Bud Doble in contempt. For him there was but one man of +all the drivers he whole-heartedly admired, Pop Geers, the shrewd and +silent. "That Geers of yours doesn't drive at all. He just sits up there +like a stick," Tom grumbled. "If a horse can win all right, he'll ride +behind him all right. What I like to see is a driver. Now you look at +that Doble. You watch him bring a horse through the stretch." + +Jim looked at his employer with something like pity in his eyes. "Huh," +he exclaimed. "If you haven't got eyes you can't see." + +The farm hand had two strong loves in his life, his employer's daughter +and the race horse driver, Geers. "Geers," he declared, "was a man born +old and wise." Often he had seen Geers at the tracks on a morning before +some important race. The driver sat on an upturned box in the sun before +one of the horse stalls. All about him there was the bantering talk of +horsemen and grooms. Bets were made and challenges given. On the +tracks nearby horses, not entered in the races for that day, were being +exercised. Their hoofbeats made a kind of music that made Jim's blood +tingle. Negroes laughed and horses put their heads out at stall doors. +The stallions neighed loudly and the heels of some impatient steed +rattled against the sides of a stall. + +Every one about the stalls talked of the events of the afternoon and Jim +leaned against the front of one of the stalls and listened, filled with +happiness. He wished the fates had made him a racing man. Then he looked +at Pop Geers, the silent one, who sat for hours dumb and uncommunicative +on a feed box, tapping lightly on the ground with his racing whip and +chewing straw. Jim's imagination was aroused. He had once seen +that other silent American, General Grant, and had been filled with +admiration for him. + +That was on a great day in Jim's life, the day on which he had seen +Grant going to receive Lee's surrender at Appomattox. There had been a +battle with the Union men pursuing the fleeing Rebs out of Richmond, and +Jim, having secured a bottle of whisky, and having a chronic dislike of +battles, had managed to creep away into a wood. In the distance he heard +shouts and presently saw several men riding furiously down a road. It +was Grant with his aides going to the place where Lee waited. They rode +to the place near where Jim sat with his back against a tree and the +bottle between his legs; then stopped. Then Grant decided not to take +part in the ceremony. His clothes were covered with mud and his beard +was ragged. He knew Lee and knew he would be dressed for the occasion. +He was that kind of a man; he was one fitted for historic pictures and +occasions. Grant wasn't. He told his aides to go on to the spot where +Lee waited, told them what arrangements were to be made, then jumped his +horse over a ditch and rode along a path under the trees toward the spot +where Jim lay. + +That was an event Jim never forgot. He was fascinated at the thought +of what the day meant to Grant and by his apparent indifference. He sat +silently by the tree and when Grant got off his horse and came near, +walking now in the path where the sunlight sifted down through the +trees, he closed his eyes. Grant came to where he sat and stopped, +apparently thinking him dead. His hand reached down and took the bottle +of whisky. For a moment they had something between them, Grant and Jim. +They both understood that bottle of whisky. Jim thought Grant was about +to drink, and opened his eyes a little. Then he closed them. The cork +was out of the bottle and Grant clutched it in his hand tightly. From +the distance there came a vast shout that was picked up and carried by +voices far away. The wood seemed to rock with it. "It's done. The war's +over," Jim thought. Then Grant reached over and smashed the bottle +against the trunk of the tree above Jim's head. A piece of the flying +glass cut his cheek and blood came. He opened his eyes and looked +directly into Grant's eyes. For a moment the two men stared at each +other and the great shout again rolled over the country. Grant went +hurriedly along the path to where he had left his horse, and mounting, +rode away. + +Standing in the race track looking at Geers, Jim thought of Grant. Then +his mind came back to this other hero. "What a man!" he thought. "Here +he goes from town to town and from race track to race track all through +the spring, summer and fall, and he never loses his head, never gets +excited. To win horse races is the same as winning battles. When I'm at +home plowing corn on summer afternoons, this Geers is away somewhere +at some track with all the people gathered about and waiting. To me +it would be like being drunk all the time, but you see he isn't drunk. +Whisky could make him stupid. It couldn't make him drunk. There he +sits hunched up like a sleeping dog. He looks as though he cared about +nothing on earth, and he'll sit like that through three-quarters of the +hardest race, waiting, taking advantage of every little stretch of firm +hard ground on the track, saving his horse, watching, watching his horse +too, waiting. What a man! He works the horse into fourth place, into +third, into second. The crowd in the grand stand, such fellows as Tom +Butterworth, have not seen what he's doing. He sits still. By God, what +a man! He waits. He looks half asleep. If he doesn't have to do it, he +makes no effort. If the horse has it in him to win without help he sits +still. The people are shouting and jumping up out of their seats in the +grand stand, and if that Bud Doble has a horse in the race he's leaning +forward in the sulky, shouting at his horse and making a holy show of +himself. + +"Ha, that Geers! He waits. He doesn't think of the people but of the +horse he's driving. When the time comes, just the right time, that +Geers, he lets the horse know. They are one at that moment, like Grant +and I were over that bottle of whisky. Something happens between them. +Something inside the man says, 'now,' and the message runs along the +reins to the horse's brain. It flies down into his legs. There is a +rush. The head of the horse has just worked its way out in front by +inches--not too soon, nothing wasted. Ha, that Geers! Bud Doble, huh!" + +On the night of Clara's marriage after she and Hugh had disappeared +down the county seat road, Jim hurried into the barn and, bringing out +a horse, sprang on his back. He was sixty-three but could mount a horse +like a young man. As he rode furiously toward Bidwell he thought, not of +Clara and her adventure, but of her father. To both men the right kind +of marriage meant success in life for a woman. Nothing else really +mattered much if that were accomplished. He thought of Tom Butterworth, +who, he told himself, had fussed with Clara just as Bud Doble often +fussed with a horse in a race. He had himself been like Pop Geers. All +along he had known and understood the mare colt, Clara. Now she had come +through; she had won the race of life. + +"Ha, that old fool!" Jim whispered to himself as he rode swiftly down +the dark road. When the horse ran clattering over a small wooden bridge +and came to the first of the houses of the town, he felt like one coming +to announce a victory, and half expected a vast shout to come out of the +darkness, as it had come in the moment of Grant's victory over Lee. + +Jim could not find his employer at the hotel or in Main Street, but +remembered a tale he had heard whispered. Fanny Twist the milliner lived +in a little frame house in Garfield Street, far out at the eastern edge +of town, and he went there. He banged boldly on the door and the woman +appeared. "I've got to see Tom Butterworth," he said. "It's important. +It's about his daughter. Something has happened to her." + +The door closed and presently Tom came around the corner of the house. +He was furious. Jim's horse stood in the road, and he went straight +to him and took hold of the bit. "What do you mean by coming here?" he +asked sharply. "Who told you I was here? What business you got coming +here and making a show of yourself? What's the matter of you? Are you +drunk or out of your head?" + +Jim got off the horse and told Tom the news. For a moment the two stood +looking at each other. "Hugh McVey--Hugh McVey, by crackies, are you +right, Jim?" Tom exclaimed. "No missfire, eh? She's really gone and done +it? Hugh McVey, eh? By crackies!" + +"They're on the way to the county seat now," Jim said softly. "Missfire! +Not on your life." His voice lost the cool, quiet tone he had so often +dreamed of maintaining in great emergencies. "I figure they'll be back +by twelve or one," he said eagerly. "We got to blow 'em out, Tom. We got +to give that girl and her husband the biggest blowout ever seen in this +county, and we got just about three hours to get ready for it." + +"Get off that horse and give me a boost," Tom commanded. With a grunt +of satisfaction he sprang to the horse's back. The belated impulse to +philander that an hour before sent him creeping through back streets and +alleyways to the door of Fanny Twist's house was all gone, and in its +place had come the spirit of the man of affairs, the man who, as he +himself often boasted, made things move and kept them on the move. "Now +look here, Jim," he said sharply, "there are three livery stables in +this town. You engage every horse they've got for the night. Have the +horses hitched to any kind of rigs you can find, buggies, surreys, +spring wagons, anything. Have them get drivers off the streets, +anywhere. Then have them all brought around in front of the Bidwell +House and held for me. When you've done that, you go to Henry Heller's +house. I guess you can find it. You found this house where I was fast +enough. He lives on Campus Street just beyond the new Baptist Church. If +he's gone to bed you get him up. Tell him to get his orchestra together +and have him bring all the lively music he's got. Tell him to bring his +men to the Bidwell House as fast as he can get them there." + +Tom rode off along the street followed by Jim Priest, running at the +horse's heels. When he had gone a little way he stopped. "Don't let any +one fuss with you about prices to-night, Jim," he called. "Tell every +one it's for me. Tell 'em Tom Butterworth'll pay what they ask. The +sky's the limit to-night, Jim. That's the word, the sky's the limit." + +To the older citizens of Bidwell, those who lived there when every +citizen's affairs were the affair of the town, that evening will be long +remembered. The new men, the Italians, Greeks, Poles, Rumanians, and +many other strange-talking, dark-skinned men who had come with the +coming of the factories, went on with their lives on that evening as on +all others. They worked in the night shift at the Corn-Cutting Machine +Plant, at the foundry, the bicycle factory or at the big new Tool +Machine Factory that had just moved to Bidwell from Cleveland. Those who +were not at work lounged in the streets or wandered aimlessly in and out +of saloons. Their wives and children were housed in the hundreds of new +frame houses in the streets that now crept out in all directions. In +those days in Bidwell new houses seemed to spring out of the ground like +mushrooms. In the morning there was a field or an orchard on Turner Pike +or on any one of a dozen roads leading out of town. On the trees in the +orchard green apples hung down waiting, ready to ripen. Grasshoppers +sang in the long grass beneath the trees. + +Then appeared Ben Peeler with a swarm of men. The trees were cut and +the song of the grasshopper choked beneath piles of boards. There was +a great shouting and rattling of hammers. A whole street of houses, all +alike, universally ugly, had been added to the vast number of new houses +already built by that energetic carpenter and his partner Gordon Hart. + +To the people who lived in these houses, the excitement of Tom +Butterworth and Jim Priest meant nothing. Half sullenly they worked, +striving to make money enough to take them back to their native lands. +In the new place they had not, as they had hoped, been received as +brothers. A marriage or a death there meant nothing to them. + +To the old townsmen however, those who remembered Tom when he was a +simple farmer and when Steve Hunter was looked upon with contempt as a +boasting young squirt, the night rocked with excitement. Men ran +through the streets. Drivers lashed their horses along roads. Tom +was everywhere. He was like a general in charge of the defenses of a +besieged town. The cooks at all three of the town's hotels were sent +back into their kitchens, waiters were found and hurried out to the +Butterworth house, and Henry Heller's orchestra was instructed to get +out there at once and to start playing the liveliest possible music. + +Tom asked every man and woman he saw to the wedding party. The hotel +keeper was invited with his wife and daughter and two or three keepers +of stores who came to the hotel to bring supplies were asked, commanded +to come. Then there were the men of the factories, the office men and +superintendents, new men who had never seen Clara. They also, with the +town bankers and other solid fellows with money in the banks, who were +investors in Tom's enterprises, were invited. "Put on the best clothes +you've got in the world and have your women folks do the same," he +said laughing. "Then you get out to my house as soon as you can. If you +haven't any way to get there, come to the Bidwell House. I'll get you +out." + +Tom did not forget that in order to have his wedding party go as he +wished, he would need to serve drinks. Jim Priest went from bar to +bar. "What wine you got--good wine? How much you got?" he asked at +each place. Steve Hunter had in the cellar of his house six cases of +champagne kept there against a time when some important guest, the +Governor of the State or a Congressman, might come to town. He felt that +on such occasions it was up to him to see that the town, as he said, +"did itself proud." When he heard what was going on he hurried to the +Bidwell House and offered to send his entire stock of wine out to Tom's +house, and his offer was accepted. + + * * * * * + +Jim Priest had an idea. When the guests were all assembled and when the +farm kitchen was filled with cooks and waiters who stumbled over each +other, he took his idea to Tom. There was, he explained, a short-cut +through fields and along lanes to a point on the county seat road, three +miles from the house. "I'll go there and hide myself," he said. "When +they come along, suspecting nothing, I'll cut out on horseback and get +here a half hour before them. You make every one in the house hide and +keep still when they drive into the yard. We'll put out all the lights. +We'll give that pair the surprise of their lives." + +Jim had concealed a quart bottle of wine in his pocket and, as he rode +away on his mission, stopped from time to time to take a hearty drink. +As his horse trotted along lanes and through fields, the horse that was +bringing Clara and Hugh home from their adventure cocked his ears and +remembered the comfortable stall filled with hay in the Butterworth +barn. The horse trotted swiftly along and Hugh in the buggy beside Clara +was lost in the same dense silence that all the evening had lain over +him like a cloak. In a dim way he was resentful and felt that time was +running too fast. The hours and the passing events were like the waters +of a river in flood time, and he was like a man in a boat without oars, +being carried helplessly forward. Occasionally he thought courage had +come to him and he half turned toward Clara and opened his mouth, hoping +words would come to his lips, but the silence that had taken hold of +him was like a disease whose grip on its victim could not be broken. He +closed his mouth and wet his lips with his tongue. Clara saw him do the +thing several times. He began to seem animal-like and ugly to her. "It's +not true that I thought of her and asked her to be my wife only because +I wanted a woman," Hugh reassured himself. "I've been lonely, all my +life I've been lonely. I want to find my way into some one's heart, and +she is the one." + +Clara also remained silent. She was angry. "If he didn't want to marry +me, why did he ask me? Why did he come?" she asked herself. "Well, I'm +married. I've done the thing we women are always thinking about," she +told herself, her mind taking another turn. The thought frightened +her and a shiver of dread ran over her body. Then her mind went to the +defense of Hugh. "It isn't his fault. I shouldn't have rushed things as +I have. Perhaps I'm not meant for marriage at all," she thought. + +The ride homeward dragged on indefinitely. The clouds were blown out +of the sky, the moon came out and the stars looked down on the two +perplexed people. To relieve the feeling of tenseness that had taken +hold of her Clara's mind resorted to a trick. Her eyes sought out a tree +or the lights of a farmhouse far ahead and she tried to count the +hoof beats of the horse until they had come to it. She wanted to hurry +homeward and at the same time looked forward with dread to the night +alone in the dark farmhouse with Hugh. Not once during the homeward +drive did she take the whip out of its socket or speak to the horse. + +When at last the horse trotted eagerly across the crest of the hill, +from which there was such a magnificent view of the country below, +neither Clara nor Hugh turned to look. With bowed heads they rode, each +trying to find courage to face the possibilities of the night. + + * * * * * + +In the farmhouse Tom and his guests waited in winelit suspense, and +at last Jim Priest rode shouting out of a lane to the door. "They're +coming--they're coming," he shouted, and ten minutes later and after Tom +had twice lost his temper and cursed the girl waitresses from the town +hotels who were inclined to giggle, all was silent and dark about the +house and the barnyard. When all was quiet Jim Priest crept into the +kitchen, and stumbling over the legs of the guests, made his way to a +front window where he placed a lighted candle. Then he went out of the +house to lie on his back beneath a bush in the yard. In the house he +had secured for himself a second bottle of wine, and as Clara with her +husband turned in at the gate and drove into the barnyard, the only +sound that broke the intense silence came from the soft gurgle of the +wine finding its way down his throat. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +As in most older American homes, the kitchen at the rear of the +Butterworth farmhouse was large and comfortable. Much of the life of +the house had been led there. Clara sat in a deep window that looked out +across a little gully where in the spring a small stream ran down along +the edge of the barnyard. She was then a quiet child and loved to sit +for hours unobserved and undisturbed. At her back was the kitchen with +the warm, rich smells and the soft, quick, persistent footsteps of her +mother. Her eyes closed and she slept. Then she awoke. Before her lay a +world into which her fancy could creep out. Across the stream before her +eyes went a small, wooden bridge and over this in the spring horses went +away to the fields or to sheds where they were hitched to milk or ice +wagons. The sound of the hoofs of the horses pounding on the bridge was +like thunder, harnesses rattled, voices shouted. Beyond the bridge was a +path leading off to the left and along the path were three small houses +where hams were smoked. Men came from the wagon sheds bearing the meat +on their shoulders and went into the little houses. Fires were lighted +and smoke crawled lazily up through the roofs. In a field that lay +beyond the smoke houses a man came to plow. The child, curled into a +little, warm ball in the window seat, was happy. When she closed her +eyes fancies came like flocks of white sheep running out of a green +wood. Although she was later to become a tomboy and run wild over the +farm and through the barns, and although all her life she loved the +soil and the sense of things growing and of food for hungry mouths being +prepared, there was in her, even as a child, a hunger for the life of +the spirit. In her dreams women, beautifully gowned and with rings on +their hands, came to brush the wet, matted hair back from her forehead. +Across the little wooden bridge before her eyes came wonderful men, +women, and children. The children ran forward. They cried out to her. +She thought of them as brothers and sisters who were to come to live in +the farmhouse and who were to make the old house ring with laughter. The +children ran toward her with outstretched hands, but never arrived at +the house. The bridge extended itself. It stretched out under their feet +so that they ran forward forever on the bridge. + +And behind the children came men and women, sometimes together, +sometimes walking alone. They did not seem like the children to belong +to her. Like the women who came to touch her hot forehead, they were +beautifully gowned and walked with stately dignity. + +The child climbed out of the window and stood on the kitchen floor. Her +mother hurried about. She was feverishly active and often did not hear +when the child spoke. "I want to know about my brothers and sisters: +where are they, why don't they come here?" she asked, but the mother did +not hear, and if she did, had nothing to say. Sometimes she stopped to +kiss the child and tears came to her eyes. Then something cooking on the +kitchen stove demanded attention. "You run outside," she said hurriedly, +and turned again to her work. + + * * * * * + +From the chair where Clara sat at the wedding feast provided by the +energy of her father and the enthusiasm of Jim Priest, she could see +over her father's shoulder into the farm house kitchen. As when she was +a child, she closed her eyes and dreamed of another kind of feast. +With a growing sense of bitterness she realized that all her life, all +through her girlhood and young womanhood, she had been waiting for this, +her wedding night, and that now, having come, the occasion for which she +had waited so long and concerning which she had dreamed so many dreams, +had aborted into an occasion for the display of ugliness and vulgarity. +Her father, the only other person in the room in any way related to +her, sat at the other end of the long table. Her aunt had gone away on +a visit, and in the crowded, noisy room there was no woman to whom she +could turn for understanding. She looked past her father's shoulder and +directly into the wide window seat where she had spent so many hours of +her childhood. Again she wanted brothers and sisters. "The beautiful men +and women of the dreams were meant to come at this time, that's what +the dreams were about; but, like the unborn children that ran with +outstretched hands, they cannot get over the bridge and into the house," +she thought vaguely. "I wish Mother had lived, or that Kate Chanceller +were here," she whispered to herself as, raising her eyes, she looked at +her father. + +Clara felt like an animal driven into a corner and surrounded by foes. +Her father sat at the feast between two women, Mrs. Steve Hunter who was +inclined to corpulency, and a thin woman named Bowles, the wife of an +undertaker of Bidwell. They continually whispered, smiled, and nodded +their heads. Hugh sat on the opposite side of the same table, and when +he raised his eyes from the plate of food before him, could see past the +head of a large, masculine-looking woman into the farmhouse parlor where +there was another table, also filled with guests. Clara turned from +looking at her father to look at her husband. He was merely a tall man +with a long face, who could not raise his eyes. His long neck stuck +itself out of a stiff white collar. To Clara he was, at the moment, a +being without personality, one that the crowd at the table had swallowed +up as it so busily swallowed food and wine. When she looked at him he +seemed to be drinking a good deal. His glass was always being filled and +emptied. At the suggestion of the woman who sat beside him, he performed +the task of emptying it, without raising his eyes, and Steve Hunter, +who sat on the other side of the table, leaned over and filled it again. +Steve like her father whispered and winked. "On the night of my wedding +I was piped, you bet, as piped as a hatter. It's a good thing. It gives +a man nerve," he explained to the masculine-looking woman to whom he was +telling, with a good deal of attention to details, the tale of his own +marriage night. + +Clara did not look at Hugh again. What he did seemed no concern of hers. +Bowles the Bidwell undertaker had surrendered to the influence of the +wine that had been flowing freely since the guests arrived and now got +to his feet and began to talk. His wife tugged at his coat and tried to +force him back into his seat, but Tom Butterworth jerked her arm away. +"Ah, let him alone. He's got a story to tell," he said to the woman, +who blushed and put her handkerchief over her face. "Well, it's a fact, +that's how it happened," the undertaker declared in a loud voice. "You +see the sleeves of her nightgown were tied in hard knots by her rascally +brothers. When I tried to unfasten them with my teeth I bit big holes in +the sleeves." + +Clara gripped the arm of her chair. "If I can let the night pass without +showing these people how much I hate them I'll do well enough," she +thought grimly. She looked at the dishes laden with food and wished she +could break them one by one over the heads of her father's guests. As a +relief to her mind, she again looked past her father's head and through +a doorway into the kitchen. + +In the big room three or four cooks were busily engaged in the +preparation of food, and waitresses continually brought steaming dishes +and put them on the tables. She thought of her mother's life, the life +led in that room, married to the man who was her own father and who no +doubt, but for the fact that circumstances had made him a man of wealth, +would have been satisfied to see his daughter led into just such another +life. + +"Kate was right about men. They want something from women, but what do +they care what kind of lives we lead after they get what they want?" she +thought grimly. + +The more to separate herself from the feasting, laughing crowd, Clara +tried to think out the details of her mother's life. "It was the life +of a beast," she thought. Like herself, her mother had come to the +house with her husband on the night of her marriage. There was just such +another feast. The country was new then and the people for the most part +desperately poor. Still there was drinking. She had heard her father and +Jim Priest speak of the drinking bouts of their youth. The men came +as they had come now, and with them came women, women who had been +coarsened by the life they led. Pigs were killed and game brought from +the forests. The men drank, shouted, fought, and played practical jokes. +Clara wondered if any of the men and women in the room would dare go +upstairs into her sleeping room and tie knots in her night clothes. They +had done that when her mother came to the house as a bride. Then they +had all gone away and her father had taken his bride upstairs. He was +drunk, and her own husband Hugh was now getting drunk. Her mother had +submitted. Her life had been a story of submission. Kate Chanceller had +said it was so married women lived, and her mother's life had proven +the truth of the statement. In the farmhouse kitchen, where now three or +four cooks worked so busily, she had worked her life out alone. From the +kitchen she had gone directly upstairs and to bed with her husband. Once +a week on Saturday afternoons she went into town and stayed long enough +to buy supplies for another week of cooking. "She must have been kept +going until she dropped down dead," Clara thought, and her mind taking +another turn, added, "and many others, both men and women, must have +been forced by circumstances to serve my father in the same blind way. +It was all done in order that prosperity and money with which to do +vulgar things might be his." + +Clara's mother had brought but one child into the world. She wondered +why. Then she wondered if she would become the mother of a child. Her +hands no longer gripped the arms of her chair, but lay on the table +before her. She looked at them and they were strong. She was herself +a strong woman. After the feast was over and the guests had gone away, +Hugh, given courage by the drinks he continued to consume, would come +upstairs to her. Some twist of her mind made her forget her husband, +and in fancy she felt herself about to be attacked by a strange man on +a dark road at the edge of a forest. The man had tried to take her +into his arms and kiss her and she had managed to get her hands on his +throat. Her hands lying on the table twitched convulsively. + +In the big farmhouse dining-room and in the parlor where the second +table of guests sat, the wedding feast went on. Afterward when she +thought of it, Clara always remembered her wedding feast as a horsey +affair. Something in the natures of Tom Butterworth and Jim Priest, she +thought, expressed itself that night. The jokes that went up and down +the table were horsey, and Clara thought the women who sat at the tables +heavy and mare-like. + +Jim did not come to the table to sit with the others, was in fact not +invited, but all evening he kept appearing and reappearing and had the +air of a master of ceremonies. Coming into the dining room he stood by +the door, scratching his head. Then he went out. It was as though he had +said to himself, "Well, it's all right, everything is going all right, +everything is lively, you see." All his life Jim had been a drinker of +whisky and knew his limitations. His system as a drinking man had always +been quite simple. On Saturday afternoons, when the work about the barns +was done for the day and the other employees had gone away, he went +to sit on the steps of a corncrib with the bottle in his hand. In the +winter he went to sit by the kitchen fire in a little house below the +apple orchard where he and the other employees slept. He took a long +drink from the bottle and then holding it in his hand sat for a +time thinking of the events of his life. Whisky made him somewhat +sentimental. After one long drink he thought of his youth in a town in +Pennsylvania. He had been one of six children, all boys, and at an early +age his mother had died. Jim thought of her and then of his father. When +he had himself come west into Ohio, and later when he was a soldier in +the Civil War, he despised his father and reverenced the memory of his +mother. In the war he had found himself physically unable to stand up +before the enemy during a battle. When the report of guns was heard +and the other men of his company got grimly into line and went forward, +something happened to his legs and he wanted to run away. So great +was the desire in him that craftiness grew in his brain. Watching his +chance, he pretended to have been shot and fell to the ground, and when +the others had gone on crept away and hid himself. He found it was not +impossible to disappear altogether and reappear in another place. The +draft went into effect and many men not liking the notion of war were +willing to pay large sums to the men who would go in their places. Jim +went into the business of enlisting and deserting. All about him were +men talking of the necessity of saving the country, and for four years +he thought only of saving his own hide. Then suddenly the war was over +and he became a farm hand. As he worked all week in the fields, and in +the evening sometimes, as he lay in his bed and the moon came up, he +thought of his mother and of the nobility and sacrifice of her life. He +wished to be such another. After having two or three drinks out of the +bottle, he admired his father, who in the Pennsylvania town had borne +the reputation of being a liar and a rascal. After his mother's death +his father had managed to marry a widow who owned a farm. "The old +man was a slick one," he said aloud, tipping up the bottle and +taking another long drink. "If I had stayed at home until I got more +understanding, the old man and I together might have done something." +He finished the bottle and went away to sleep on the hay, or if it +were winter, threw himself into one of the bunks in the bunk house. +He dreamed of becoming one who went through life beating people out of +money, living by his wits, getting the best of every one. + +Until the night of Clara's wedding Jim had never tasted wine, and as +it did not bring on a desire for sleep, he thought himself unaffected. +"It's like sweetened water," he said, going into the darkness of the +barnyard and emptying another half bottle down his throat. "The stuff +has no kick. Drinking it is like drinking sweet cider." + +Jim got into a frolicsome mood and went through the crowded kitchen and +into the dining room where the guests were assembled. At the moment the +rather riotous laughter and story telling had ceased and everything +was quiet. He was worried. "Things aren't going well. Clara's party +is becoming a frost," he thought resentfully. He began to dance a +heavy-footed jig on a little open place by the kitchen door and the +guests stopped talking to watch. They shouted and clapped their hands. A +thunder of applause arose. The guests who were seated in the parlor and +who could not see the performance got up and crowded into the doorway +that connected the two rooms. Jim became extraordinarily bold, and as +one of the young women Tom had hired as waitresses at that moment went +past bearing a large dish of food, he swung himself quickly about and +took her into his arms. The dish flew across the floor and broke against +a table leg and the young woman screamed. A farm dog that had found +its way into the kitchen rushed into the room and barked loudly. Henry +Heller's orchestra, concealed under a stairway that led to the upper +part of the house, began to play furiously. A strange animal fervor +swept over Jim. His legs flew rapidly about and his heavy feet made a +great clatter on the floor. The young woman in his arms screamed and +laughed. Jim closed his eyes and shouted. He felt that the wedding party +had until that moment been a failure and that he was transforming it +into a success. Rising to their feet the men shouted, clapped their +hands and beat with their fists on the table. When the orchestra came +to the end of the dance, Jim stood flushed and triumphant before the +guests, holding the woman in his arms. In spite of her struggles he held +her tightly against his breast and kissed her eyes, cheeks, and mouth. +Then releasing her he winked and made a gesture for silence. "On +a wedding night some one's got to have the nerve to do a little +love-making," he said, looking pointedly toward the place where Hugh sat +with head bent and with his eyes staring at a glass of wine that sat at +his elbow. + + * * * * * + +It was past two o'clock when the feast came to an end. When the guests +began to depart, Clara stood for a moment alone and tried to get herself +in hand. Something inside her felt cold and old. If she had often +thought she wanted a man, and that life as a married woman would put an +end to her problems, she did not think so at that moment. "What I want +above everything else is a woman," she thought. All the evening her mind +had been trying to clutch and hold the almost forgotten figure of her +mother, but it was too vague and shadowy. With her mother she had never +walked and talked late at night through streets of towns when the world +was asleep and when thoughts were born in herself. "After all," she +thought, "Mother may also have belonged to all this." She looked at the +people preparing to depart. Several men had gathered in a group by the +door. One of them told a story at which the others laughed loudly. The +women standing about had flushed and, Clara thought, coarse faces. +"They have gone into marriage like cattle," she told herself. Her mind, +running out of the room, began to caress the memory of her one woman +friend, Kate Chanceller. Often on late spring afternoons as she and Kate +had walked together something very like love-making had happened between +them. They went along quietly and evening came on. Suddenly they stopped +in the street and Kate had put her arms about Clara's shoulders. For +a moment they stood thus close together and a strange gentle and yet +hungry look came into Kate's eyes. It only lasted a moment and when it +happened both women were somewhat embarrassed. Kate laughed and taking +hold of Clara's arm pulled her along the sidewalk. "Let's walk like the +devil," she said, "come on, let's get up some speed." + +Clara put her hands to her eyes as though to shut out the scene in the +room. "If I could have been with Kate this evening I could have come to +a man believing in the possible sweetness of marriage," she thought. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Jim Priest was very drunk, but insisted on hitching a team to the +Butterworth carriage and driving it loaded with guests to town. Every +one laughed at him, but he drove up to the farmhouse door and in a +loud voice declared he knew what he was doing. Three men got into the +carriage and beating the horses furiously Jim sent them galloping away. + +When an opportunity offered, Clara went silently out of the hot +dining-room and through a door to a porch at the back of the house. +The kitchen door was open and the waitresses and cooks from town were +preparing to depart. One of the young women came out into the darkness +accompanied by a man, evidently one of the guests. They had both been +drinking and stood for a moment in the darkness with their bodies +pressed together. "I wish it were our wedding night," the man's voice +whispered, and the woman laughed. After a long kiss they went back into +the kitchen. + +A farm dog appeared and going up to Clara licked her hand. She went +around the house and stood back of a bush in the darkness near where the +carriages were being loaded. Her father with Steve Hunter and his wife +came and got into a carriage. Tom was in an expansive, generous mood. +"You know, Steve, I told you and several others my Clara was engaged to +Alfred Buckley," he said. "Well, I was mistaken. The whole thing was a +lie. The truth is I shot off my mouth without talking to Clara. I had +seen them together and now and then Buckley used to come out here to the +house in the evening, although he never came except when I was here. +He told me Clara had promised to marry him, and like a fool I took his +word. I never even asked. That's the kind of a fool I was and I was a +bigger fool to go telling the story. All the time Clara and Hugh were +engaged and I never suspected. They told me about it to-night." + +Clara stood by the bush until she thought the last of the guests had +gone. The lie her father had told seemed only a part of the evening's +vulgarity. Near the kitchen door the waitresses, cooks and musicians +were being loaded into the bus that had been driven out from the Bidwell +House. She went into the dining-room. Sadness had taken the place of the +anger in her, but when she saw Hugh the anger came back. Piles of dishes +filled with food lay all about the room and the air was heavy with +the smell of food. Hugh stood by a window looking out into the dark +farmyard. He held his hat in his hand. "You might put your hat away," +she said sharply. "Have you forgotten you're married to me and that you +now live here in this house?" She laughed nervously and walked to the +kitchen door. + +Her mind still clung to the past and to the days when she was a child +and had spent so many hours in the big, silent kitchen. Something was +about to happen that would take her past away--destroy it, and the +thought frightened her. "I have not been very happy in this house +but there have been certain moments, certain feelings I've had," she +thought. Stepping through the doorway she stood for a moment in the +kitchen with her back to the wall and with her eyes closed. Through +her mind went a troop of figures, the stout determined figure of Kate +Chanceller who had known how to love in silence; the wavering, hurrying +figure of her mother; her father as a young man coming in after a long +drive to warm his hands by the kitchen fire; a strong, hard-faced woman +from town who had once worked for Tom as cook and who was reported to +have been the mother of two illegitimate children; and the figures +of her childhood fancy walking over the bridge toward her, clad in +beautiful raiment. + +Back of these figures were other figures, long forgotten but now sharply +remembered--farm girls who had come to work by the day; tramps who had +been fed at the kitchen door; young farm hands who suddenly disappeared +from the routine of the farm's life and were never seen again, a young +man with a red bandana handkerchief about his neck who had thrown her a +kiss as she stood with her face pressed against a window. + +Once a high school girl from town had come to spend the night with +Clara. After the evening meal the two girls walked into the kitchen +and stood by a window, looking out. Something had happened within them. +Moved by a common impulse they went outside and walked for a long way +under the stars along the silent country roads. They came to a field +where men were burning brush. Where there had been a forest there was +now only a stump field and the figures of the men carrying armloads of +the dry branches of trees and throwing them on the fire. The fire made +a great splash of color in the gathering darkness and for some obscure +reason both girls were deeply moved by the sight, sound, and perfume of +the night. The figures of the men seemed to dance back and forth in +the light. Instinctively Clara turned her face upward and looked at +the stars. She was conscious of them and of their beauty and the wide +sweeping beauty of night as she had never been before. A wind began +to sing in the trees of a distant forest, dimly seen far away across +fields. The sound was soft and insistent and crept into her soul. In +the grass at her feet insects sang an accompaniment to the soft, distant +music. + +How vividly Clara now remembered that night! It came sharply back as +she stood with closed eyes in the farm kitchen and waited for the +consummation of the adventure on which she had set out. With it came +other memories. "How many fleeting dreams and half visions of beauty I +have had!" she thought. + +Everything in life that she had thought might in some way lead toward +beauty now seemed to Clara to lead to ugliness. "What a lot I've +missed," she muttered, and opening her eyes went back into the +dining-room and spoke to Hugh, still standing and staring out into the +darkness. + +"Come," she said sharply, and led the way up a stairway. The two went +silently up the stairs, leaving the lights burning brightly in the rooms +below. They came to a door leading to a bedroom, and Clara opened it. +"It's time for a man and his wife to go to bed," she said in a low, +husky voice. Hugh followed her into the room. He walked to a chair by a +window and sitting down, took off his shoes and sat holding them in his +hand. He did not look at Clara but into the darkness outside the window. +Clara let down her hair and began to unfasten her dress. She took off +an outer dress and threw it over a chair. Then she went to a drawer +and pulling it out looked for a night dress. She became angry and threw +several garments on the floor. "Damn!" she said explosively, and went +out of the room. + +Hugh sprang to his feet. The wine he had drunk had not taken effect and +Steve Hunter had been forced to go home disappointed. All the evening +something stronger than wine had been gripping him. Now he knew what it +was. All through the evening thoughts and desires had whirled through +his brain. Now they were all gone. "I won't let her do it," he muttered, +and running quickly to the door closed it softly. With the shoes still +held in his hand he crawled through a window. He had expected to leap +into the darkness, but by chance his stocking feet alighted on the roof +of the farm kitchen that extended out from the rear of the house. He ran +quickly down the roof and jumped, alighting in a clump of bushes that +tore long scratches on his cheeks. + +For five minutes Hugh ran toward the town of Bidwell, then turned, and +climbing a fence, walked across a field. The shoes were still gripped +tightly in his hand and the field was stony, but he did not notice and +was unconscious of pain from his bruised feet or from the torn places +on his cheeks. Standing in the field he heard Jim Priest drive homeward +along the road. + + "My bonny lies over the ocean, + My bonny lies over the sea, + My bonny lies over the ocean, + O, bring back my bonny to me." + +sang the farm hand. + +Hugh walked across several fields, and when he came to a small stream, +sat down on the bank and put on his shoes. "I've had my chance and +missed it," he thought bitterly. Several times he repeated the words. +"I've had my chance and I've missed," he said again as he stopped by +a fence that separated the fields in which he had been walking. At the +words he stopped and put his hand to his throat. A half-stifled sob +broke from him. "I've had my chance and missed," he said again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +On the day after the feast managed by Tom and Jim, it was Tom who +brought Hugh back to live with his wife. The older man had come to the +farmhouse on the next morning bringing three women from town who were, +as he explained to Clara, to clear away the mess left by the guests. +The daughter had been deeply touched by what Hugh had done, and at the +moment loved him deeply, but did not choose to let her father know how +she felt. "I suppose you got him drunk, you and your friends," she said. +"At any rate, he's not here." + +Tom said nothing, but when Clara had told the story of Hugh's +disappearance, drove quickly away. "He'll come to the shop," he thought +and went there, leaving his horse tied to a post in front. At two +o'clock his son-in-law came slowly over the Turner's Pike bridge and +approached the shop. He was hatless and his clothes and hair were +covered with dust, while in his eyes was the look of a hunted animal. +Tom met him with a smile and asked no questions. "Come," he said, and +taking Hugh by the arm led him to the buggy. As he untied the horse +he stopped to light a cigar. "I'm going down to one of my lower farms. +Clara thought you would like to go with me," he said blandly. + +Tom drove to the McCoy house and stopped. + +"You'd better clean up a little," he said without looking at Hugh. "You +go in and shave and change your clothes. I'm going up-town. I got to go +to a store." + +Driving a short distance along the road, Tom stopped and shouted. "You +might pack your grip and bring it along," he called. "You'll be needing +your things. We won't be back here to-day." + +The two men stayed together all that day, and in the evening Tom took +Hugh to the farmhouse and stayed for the evening meal. "He was a little +drunk," he explained to Clara. "Don't be hard on him. He was a little +drunk." + +For both Clara and Hugh that evening was the hardest of their lives. +After the servants had gone, Clara sat under a lamp in the dining-room +and pretended to read a book and in desperation Hugh also tried to read. + +Again the time came to go upstairs to the bedroom, and again Clara led +the way. She went to the door of the room from which Hugh had fled and +opening it stepped aside. Then she put out her hand. "Good-night," she +said, and going down a hallway went into another room and closed the +door. + +Hugh's experience with the school teacher was repeated on that second +night in the farmhouse. He took off his shoes and prepared for bed. Then +he crept out into the hallway and went softly to the door of Clara's +room. Several times he made the journey along the carpeted hallway, and +once his hand was on the knob of the door, but each time he lost heart +and returned to his own room. Although he did not know it Clara, like +Rose McCoy on that other occasion, expected him to come to her, and +knelt on the floor just inside the door, waiting, hoping for, and +fearing the coming of the man. + +Unlike the school teacher, Clara wanted to help Hugh. Marriage had +perhaps given her that impulse, but she did not follow it, and when at +last Hugh, shaken and ashamed, gave up the struggle with himself, she +arose and went to her bed where she threw herself down and wept, as Hugh +had wept standing in the darkness of the fields on the night before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +It was a hot, dusty day, a week after Hugh's marriage to Clara, and Hugh +was at work in his shop at Bidwell. How many days, weeks, and months he +had already worked there, thinking in iron--twisted, turned, tortured +to follow the twistings and turnings of his mind--standing all day by +a bench beside other workmen--before him always the little piles +of wheels, strips of unworked iron and steel, blocks of wood, the +paraphernalia of the inventor's trade. Beside him, now that money had +come to him, more and more workmen, men who had invented nothing, who +were without distinction in the life of the community, who had married +no rich man's daughter. + +In the morning the other workmen, skillful fellows, who knew as Hugh had +never known, the science of their iron craft, came straggling through +the shop door into his presence. They were a little embarrassed before +him. The greatness of his name rang in their minds. + +Many of the workmen were husbands, fathers of families. In the morning +they left their houses gladly but nevertheless came somewhat reluctantly +to the shop. As they came along the street, past other houses, they +smoked a morning pipe. Groups were formed. Many legs straggled along +the street. At the door of the shop each man stopped. There was a sharp +tapping sound. Pipe bowls were knocked out against the door sill. Before +he came into the shop, each man looked out across the open country that +stretched away to the north. + +For a week Hugh had been married to a woman who had not yet become his +wife. She belonged, still belonged, to a world he had thought of as +outside the possibilities of his life. Was she not young, strong, +straight of body? Did she not array herself in what seemed unbelievably +beautiful clothes? The clothes she wore were a symbol of herself. For +him she was unattainable. + +And yet she had consented to become his wife, had stood with him before +a man who had said words about honor and obedience. + +Then there had come the two terrible evenings--when he had gone back to +the farmhouse with her to find the wedding feast set in their honor, +and that other evening when old Tom had brought him to the farmhouse +a defeated, frightened man who hoped the woman would put out her hand, +would reassure him. + +Hugh was sure he had missed the great opportunity of his life. He had +married, but his marriage was not a marriage. He had got himself into +a position from which there was no possibility of escaping. "I'm a +coward," he thought, looking at the other workmen in the shop. They, +like himself, were married men and lived in a house with a woman. At +night they went boldly into the presence of the woman. He had not done +that when the opportunity offered, and Clara could not come to him. He +could understand that. His hands had builded a wall and the passing days +were huge stones put on top of the wall. What he had not done became +every day a more and more impossible thing to do. + +Tom, having taken Hugh back to Clara, was still concerned over the +outcome of their adventure. Every day he came to the shop and in the +evening came to see them at the farmhouse. He hovered about, was like a +mother bird whose offspring had been prematurely pushed out of the nest. +Every morning he came into the shop to talk with Hugh. He made jokes +about married life. Winking at a man standing nearby he put his hand +familiarly on Hugh's shoulder. "Well, how does married life go? It seems +to me you're a little pale," he said laughing. + +In the evening he came to the farmhouse and sat talking of his affairs, +of the progress and growth of the town and his part in it. Without +hearing his words both Clara and Hugh sat in silence, pretending to +listen, glad of his presence. + +Hugh came to the shop at eight. On other mornings, all through that long +week of waiting, Clara had driven him to his work, the two riding in +silence down Medina Road and through the crowded streets of the town; +but on that morning he had walked. + +On Medina Road, near the bridge where he had once stood with Clara and +where he had seen her hot with anger, something had happened, a trivial +thing. A male bird pursued a female among the bushes beside the road. +The two feathered, living creatures, vividly colored, alive with life, +pitched and swooped through the air. They were like moving balls of +light going in and out of the dark green of foliage. There was in them a +madness, a riot of life. + +Hugh had been tricked into stopping by the roadside. A tangle of things +that had filled his mind, the wheels, cogs, levers, all the intricate +parts of the hay-loading machine, the things that lived in his mind +until his hand had made them into facts, were blown away like dust. +For a moment he watched the living riotous things and then, as though +jerking himself back into a path from which his feet had wandered, +hurried onward to the shop, looking as he went not into the branches of +trees, but downward at the dust of the road. + +In the shop Hugh tried all morning to refurnish the warehouse of his +mind, to put back into it the things blown so recklessly away. At ten +Tom came in, talked for a moment and then flitted away. "You are still +there. My daughter still has you. You have not run away again," he +seemed to be saying to himself. + +The day grew warm and the sky, seen through the shop window by the bench +where Hugh tried to work, was overcast with clouds. + +At noon the workmen went away, but Clara, who on other days had come +to drive Hugh to the farmhouse for lunch, did not appear. When all was +silent in the shop he stopped work, washed his hands and put on his +coat. + +He went to the shop door and then came back to the bench. Before him +lay an iron wheel on which he had been at work. It was intended to drive +some intricate part of the hay-loading machine. Hugh took it in his hand +and carried it to the back of the shop where there was an anvil. Without +consciousness and scarcely realizing what he did he laid it on the anvil +and taking a great sledge in his hand swung it over his head. + +The blow struck was terrific. Into it Hugh put all of his protest +against the grotesque position into which he had been thrown by his +marriage to Clara. + +The blow accomplished nothing. The sledge descended and the +comparatively delicate metal wheel was twisted, knocked out of shape. It +spurted from under the head of the sledge and shot past Hugh's head and +out through a window, breaking a pane of glass. Fragments of the broken +glass fell with a sharp little tinkling sound upon a heap of twisted +pieces of iron and steel lying beside the anvil.... + +Hugh did not eat lunch that day nor did he go to the farmhouse or return +to work at the shop. He walked, but this time did not walk in country +roads where male and female birds dart in and out of bushes. An intense +desire to know something intimate and personal concerning men and women +and the lives they led in their houses had taken possession of him. He +walked in the daylight up and down in the streets of Bidwell. + +To the right, over the bridge leading out of Turner's Road, the main +street of Bidwell ran along a river bank. In that direction the hills +out of the country to the south came down to the river's edge and there +was a high bluff. On the bluff and back of it on a sloping hillside many +of the more pretentious new houses of the prosperous Bidwell citizens +had been built. Facing the river were the largest houses, with grounds +in which trees and shrubs had been planted and in the streets along the +hill, less and less pretentious as they receded from the river, were +other houses built and being built, long rows of houses, long streets of +houses, houses in brick, stone, and wood. + +Hugh went from the river front back into this maze of streets and +houses. Some instinct led him there. It was where the men and women +of Bidwell who had prospered and had married went to live, to make +themselves houses. His father-in-law had offered to buy him a river +front place and already that meant much in Bidwell. + +He wanted to see women who, like Clara, had got themselves husbands, +what they were like. "I've seen enough of men," he thought half +resentfully as he went along. + +All afternoon he walked in streets, going up and down before houses in +which women lived with their men. A detached mood had possession of +him. For an hour he stood under a tree idly watching workmen engaged in +building another house. When one of the workmen spoke to him he walked +away and went into a street where men were laying a cement pavement +before a completed house. + +In a furtive way he kept looking about for women, hungering to see their +faces. "What are they up to? I'd like to find out," his mind seemed to +be saying. + +The women came out of the doors of the houses and passed him as he went +slowly along. Other women in carriages drove in the streets. They were +well-dressed women and seemed sure of themselves. "Things are all right +with me. For me things are settled and arranged," they seemed to say. +All the streets in which he walked seemed to be telling the story of +things settled and arranged. The houses spoke of the same things. "I am +a house. I am not built until things are settled and arranged. I mean +that," they said. + +Hugh grew very tired. In the later afternoon a small bright-eyed +woman--no doubt she had been one of the guests at his wedding +feast--stopped him. "Are you planning to buy or build up our way, Mr. +McVey?" she asked. He shook his head. "I'm looking around," he said and +hurried away. + +Anger took the place of perplexity in him. The women he saw in the +streets and in the doors of the houses were such women as his own woman +Clara. They had married men--"no better than myself," he told himself, +growing bold. + +They had married men and something had happened to them. Something was +settled. They could live in streets and in houses. Their marriages had +been real marriages and he had a right to a real marriage. It was not +too much to expect out of life. + +"Clara has a right to that also," he thought and his mind began to +idealize the marriages of men and women. "On every hand here I see them, +the neat, well-dressed, handsome women like Clara. How happy they are! + +"Their feathers have been ruffled though," he thought angrily. "It was +with them as with that bird I saw being pursued through the trees. There +has been pursuit and a pretense of trying to escape. There has been +an effort made that was not an effort, but feathers have been ruffled +here." + +When his thoughts had driven him into a half desperate mood Hugh went +out of the streets of bright, ugly, freshly built, freshly painted and +furnished houses, and down into the town. Several men homeward bound at +the end of their day of work called to him. "I hope you are thinking of +buying or building up our way," they said heartily. + + * * * * * + +It began to rain and darkness came, but Hugh did not go home to Clara. +It did not seem to him that he could spend another night in the +house with her, lying awake, hearing the little noises of the night, +waiting--for courage. He could not sit under the lamp through another +evening pretending to read. He could not go with Clara up the stairs +only to leave her with a cold "good-night" at the top of the stairs. + +Hugh went up the Medina Road almost to the house and then retraced his +steps and got into a field. There was a low swampy place in which the +water came up over his shoetops, and after he had crossed that there was +a field overgrown with a tangle of vines. The night became so dark that +he could see nothing and darkness reigned over his spirit. For hours he +walked blindly, but it did not occur to him that as he waited, hating +the waiting, Clara also waited; that for her also it was a time of trial +and uncertainty. To him it seemed her course was simple and easy. She +was a white pure thing--waiting--for what? for courage to come in to him +in order that an assault be made upon her whiteness and purity. + +That was the only answer to the question Hugh could find within himself. +The destruction of what was white and pure was a necessary thing in +life. It was a thing men must do in order that life go on. As for women, +they must be white and pure--and wait. + + * * * * * + +Filled with inward resentment Hugh at last did go to the farmhouse. Wet +and with dragging, heavy feet he turned out of the Medina Road to find +the house dark and apparently deserted. + +Then a new and puzzling situation arose. When he stepped over the +threshold and into the house he knew Clara was there. + +On that day she had not driven him to work in the morning or gone for +him at noon hour because she did not want to look at him in the light of +day, did not want again to see the puzzled, frightened look in his eyes. +She had wanted him in the darkness alone, had waited for darkness. Now +it was dark in the house and she waited for him. + +How simple it was! Hugh came into the living-room, stumbled forward into +the darkness, and found the hat-rack against the wall near the stairway +leading to the bedrooms above. Again he had surrendered what he would no +doubt have called the manhood in himself, and hoped only to be able to +escape the presence he felt in the room, to creep off upstairs to his +bed, to lie awake listening to noises, waiting miserably for another day +to come. But when he had put his dripping hat on one of the pegs of the +rack and had found the lower step with his foot thrust into darkness, a +voice called to him. + +"Come here, Hugh," Clara said softly and firmly, and like a boy caught +doing a forbidden act he went toward her. "We have been very silly, +Hugh," he heard her voice saying softly. + + * * * * * + +Hugh went to where Clara sat in a chair by a window. From him there was +no protest and no attempt to escape the love-making that followed. For +a moment he stood in silence and could see her white figure below him in +the chair. It was like something still far away, but coming swiftly as a +bird flies to him--upward to him. Her hand crept up and lay in his hand. +It seemed unbelievably large. It was not soft, but hard and firm. When +her hand had rested in his for a moment she arose and stood beside him. +Then the hand went out of his and touched, caressed his wet coat, his +wet hair, his cheeks. "My flesh must be white and cold," he thought, and +then he did not think any more. + +Gladness took hold of him, a gladness that came up out of the inner +parts of himself as she had come up to him out of the chair. For days, +weeks, he had been thinking of his problem as a man's problem, his +defeat had been a man's defeat. + +Now there was no defeat, no problem, no victory. In himself he did not +exist. Within himself something new had been born or another something +that had always lived with him had stirred to life. It was not awkward. +It was not afraid. It was a thing as swift and sure as the flight of +the male bird through the branches of trees and it was in pursuit of +something light and swift in her, something that would fly through light +and darkness but fly not too swiftly, something of which he need not +be afraid, something that without the need of understanding he could +understand as one understands the need of breath in a close place. + +With a laugh as soft and sure as her own Hugh took Clara into his arms. +A few minutes later they went up stairs and twice Hugh stumbled on the +stairway. It did not matter. His long awkward body was a thing outside +himself. It might stumble and fall many times but the new thing he had +found, the thing inside himself that responded to the thing inside the +shell that was Clara his wife, did not stumble. It flew like a bird out +of darkness into the light. At the moment he thought the sweeping flight +of life thus begun would run on forever. + + + + +BOOK SIX + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +It was a summer night in Ohio and the wheat in the long, flat fields +that stretched away to the north from the town of Bidwell was ripe for +the cutting. Between the wheat fields lay corn and cabbage fields. In +the corn fields the green stalks stood up like young trees. Facing the +fields lay the white roads, once the silent roads, hushed and empty +through the nights and often during many hours of the day, the night +silence broken only at long intervals by the clattering hoofs of +homeward bound horses and the silence of days by creaking wagons. Along +the roads on a summer evening went the young farm hand in his buggy for +which he had spent a summer's wage, a long summer of sweaty toil in +hot fields. The hoofs of his horse beat a soft tattoo on the roads. His +sweetheart sat beside him and he was in no hurry. All day he had been +at work in the harvest and on the morrow he would work again. It did +not matter. For him the night would last until the cocks in isolated +farmyards began to hail the dawn. He forgot the horse and did not care +what turning he took. All roads led to happiness for him. + +Beside the long roads was an endless procession of fields broken now and +then by a strip of woodland, where the shadows of trees fell upon the +roads and made pools of an inky blackness. In the long, dry grass in +fence corners insects sang; in the young cabbage fields rabbits ran, +flitting away like shadows in the moonlight. The cabbage fields were +beautiful too. + +Who has written or sung of the beauties of corn fields in Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, or of the vast Ohio cabbage fields? In the cabbage fields +the broad outer leaves fall down to make a background for the shifting, +delicate colors of soils. The leaves are themselves riotous with color. +As the season advances they change from light to dark greens, a thousand +shades of purples, blues and reds appear and disappear. + +In silence the cabbage fields slept beside the roads in Ohio. Not +yet had the motor cars come to tear along the roads, their flashing +lights--beautiful too, when seen by one afoot on the roads on a summer +night--had not yet made the roads an extension of the cities. Akron, the +terrible town, had not yet begun to roll forth its countless millions of +rubber hoops, filled each with its portion of God's air compressed +and in prison at last like the farm hands who have gone to the cities. +Detroit and Toledo had not begun to send forth their hundreds of +thousands of motor cars to shriek and scream the nights away on country +roads. Willis was still a mechanic in an Indiana town, and Ford still +worked in a bicycle repair shop in Detroit. + +It was a summer night in the Ohio country and the moon shone. A country +doctor's horse went at a humdrum pace along the roads. Softly and at +long intervals men afoot stumbled along. A farm hand whose horse was +lame walked toward town. An umbrella mender, benighted on the roads, +hurried toward the lights of the distant town. In Bidwell, the place +that had been on other summer nights a sleepy town filled with gossiping +berry pickers, things were astir. + +Change, and the thing men call growth, was in the air. Perhaps in its +own way revolution was in the air, the silent, the real revolution that +grew with the growth of the towns. In the stirring, bustling town of +Bidwell that quiet summer night something happened that startled men. +Something happened, and then in a few minutes it happened again. Heads +wagged, special editions of daily newspapers were printed, the great +hive of men was disturbed, under the invisible roof of the town that had +so suddenly become a city, the seeds of self-consciousness were planted +in new soil, in American soil. + +Before all this began, however, something else happened. The first motor +car ran through the streets of Bidwell and out upon the moonlit roads. +The motor car was driven by Tom Butterworth and in it sat his daughter +Clara with her husband Hugh McVey. During the week before, Tom had +brought the car from Cleveland, and the mechanic who rode with him had +taught him the art of driving. Now he drove alone and boldly. Early in +the evening he had run out to the farmhouse to take his daughter and +son-in-law for their first ride. Hugh sat in the seat beside him and +after they had started and were clear of the town, Tom turned to him. +"Now watch me step on her tail," he said proudly, using for the first +time the motor slang he had picked up from the Cleveland mechanic. + +As Tom sent the car hurling over the roads, Clara sat alone in the back +seat unimpressed by her father's new acquisition. For three years she +had been married and she felt that she did not yet know the man she had +married. Always the story had been the same, moments of light and then +darkness again. A new machine that went along roads at a startlingly +increased rate of speed might change the whole face of the world, as +her father declared it would, but it did not change certain facts of her +life. "Am I a failure as a wife, or is Hugh impossible as a husband?" +she asked herself for perhaps the thousandth time as the car, having +got into a long stretch of clear, straight road, seemed to leap and sail +through the air like a bird. "At any rate I have married me a husband +and yet I have no husband, I have been in a man's arms but I have +no lover, I have taken hold of life, but life has slipped through my +fingers." + +Like her father, Hugh seemed to Clara absorbed in only the things +outside himself, the outer crust of life. He was like and yet unlike +her father. She was baffled by him. There was something in the man she +wanted and could not find. "The fault must be in me," she told herself. +"He's all right, but what's the matter with me?" + +After that night when he ran away from her bridal bed, Clara had more +than once thought the miracle had happened. It did sometimes. On that +night when he came to her out of the rain it had happened. There was a +wall a blow could shatter, and she raised her hand to strike the blow. +The wall was shattered and then builded itself again. Even as she lay at +night in her husband's arms the wall reared itself up in the darkness of +the sleeping room. + +Over the farmhouse on such nights dense silence brooded and she and +Hugh, as had become their habit together, were silent. In the darkness +she put up her hand to touch her husband's face and hair. He lay still +and she had the impression of some great force holding him back, holding +her back. A sharp sense of struggle filled the room. The air was heavy +with it. + +When words came they did not break the silence. The wall remained. + +The words that came were empty, meaningless words. Hugh suddenly broke +forth into speech. He spoke of his work at the shop and of his progress +toward the solution of some difficult, mechanical problem. If it were +evening when the thing happened the two people got out of the lighted +house where they had been sitting together, each feeling darkness would +help the effort they were both making to tear away the wall. They walked +along a lane, past the barns and over the little wooden bridge across +the stream that ran down through the barnyard. Hugh did not want to talk +of the work at the shop, but could find words for no other talk. They +came to a fence where the lane turned and from where they could look +down the hillside and into the town. He did not look at Clara but +stared down the hillside and the words, in regard to the mechanical +difficulties that had occupied his mind all day, ran on and on. When +later they went back to the house he felt a little relieved. "I've said +words. There is something achieved," he thought. + + * * * * * + +And now after the three years as a married woman Clara sat in the motor +with her father and husband and with them was sent whirling swiftly +through the summer night. The car ran down the hill road from the +Butterworth farm, through a dozen residence streets in town and then out +upon the long, straight roads in the rich, flat country to the north. It +had skirted the town as a hungry wolf might have encircled silently and +swiftly the fire-lit camp of a hunter. To Clara the machine seemed like +a wolf, bold and cunning and yet afraid. Its great nose pushed through +the troubled air of the quiet roads, frightening horses, breaking the +silence with its persistent purring, drowning the song of insects. The +headlights also disturbed the slumbers of the night. They flashed into +barnyards where fowls slept on the lower branches of trees, played +on the sides of barns sent the cattle in fields galloping away into +darkness, and frightened horribly the wild things, the red squirrels and +chipmunks that live in wayside fences in the Ohio country. Clara hated +the machine and began to hate all machines. Thinking of machinery and +the making of machines had, she decided, been at the bottom of +her husband's inability to talk with her. Revolt against the whole +mechanical impulse of her generation began to take possession of her. + +And as she rode another and more terrible kind of revolt against the +machine began in the town of Bidwell. It began in fact before Tom with +his new motor left the Butterworth farm, it began before the summer +moon came up, before the gray mantle of night had been laid over the +shoulders of the hills south of the farmhouse. + +Jim Gibson, the journeyman harness maker who worked in Joe Wainsworth's +shop, was beside himself on that night. He had just won a great victory +over his employer and felt like celebrating. For several days he had +been telling the story of his anticipated victory in the saloons and +store, and now it had happened. After dining at his boarding-house he +went to a saloon and had a drink. Then he went to other saloons and had +other drinks, after which he swaggered through the streets to the door +of the shop. Although he was in his nature a spiritual bully, Jim did +not lack energy, and his employer's shop was filled with work demanding +attention. For a week both he and Joe had been returning to their work +benches every evening. Jim wanted to come because some driving influence +within made him love the thought of keeping the work always on the move, +and Joe because Jim made him come. + +Many things were on the move in the striving, hustling town on that +evening. The system of checking on piece work, introduced by the +superintendent Ed Hall in the corn-cutting machine plant, had brought +on Bidwell's first industrial strike. The discontented workmen were not +organized, and the strike was foredoomed to failure, but it had stirred +the town deeply. One day, a week before, quite suddenly some fifty +or sixty men had decided to quit. "We won't work for a fellow like Ed +Hall," they declared. "He sets a scale of prices and then, when we have +driven ourselves to the limit to make a decent day's pay, he cuts the +scale." Leaving the shop the men went in a body to Main Street and two +or three of them, developing unexpected eloquence, began delivering +speeches on street corners. On the next day the strike spread and for +several days the shop had been closed. Then a labor organizer came from +Cleveland and on the day of his arrival the story ran through the street +that strike breakers were to be brought in. + +And on that evening of many adventures another element was introduced +into the already disturbed life of the community. At the corner of Main +and McKinley Streets and just beyond the place where three old buildings +were being torn down to make room for the building of a new hotel, +appeared a man who climbed upon a box and attacked, not the piece work +prices at the corn-cutting machine plant, but the whole system that +built and maintained factories where the wage scale of the workmen could +be fixed by the whim or necessity of one man or a group of men. As the +man on the box talked, the workmen in the crowd who were of American +birth began to shake their heads. They went to one side and gathering in +groups discussed the stranger's words. "I tell you what," said a little +old workman, pulling nervously at his graying mustache, "I'm on strike +and I'm for sticking out until Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth fire Ed +Hall, but I don't like this kind of talk. I'll tell you what that man's +doing. He's attacking our Government, that's what he's doing." The +workmen went off to their homes grumbling. The Government was to them a +sacred thing, and they did not fancy having their demands for a better +wage scale confused by the talk of anarchists and socialists. Many of +the laborers of Bidwell were sons and grandsons of pioneers who had +opened up the country where the great sprawling towns were now growing +into cities. They or their fathers had fought in the great Civil War. +During boyhood they had breathed a reverence for government out of the +very air of the towns. The great men of whom the school-books talked had +all been connected with the Government. In Ohio there had been Garfield, +Sherman, McPherson the fighter and others. From Illinois had come +Lincoln and Grant. For a time the very ground of the mid-American +country had seemed to spurt forth great men as now it was spurting forth +gas and oil. Government had justified itself in the men it had produced. + +And now there had come among them men who had no reverence for +government. What a speaker for the first time dared say openly on the +streets of Bidwell, had already been talked in the shops. The new men, +the foreigners coming from many lands, had brought with them strange +doctrines. They began to make acquaintances among the American workmen. +"Well," they said, "you've had great men here; no doubt you have; but +you're getting a new kind of great men now. These new men are not born +out of people. They're being born out of capital. What is a great man? +He's one who has the power. Isn't that a fact? Well, you fellows here +have got to find out that nowadays power comes with the possession of +money. Who are the big men of this town?--not some lawyer or politician +who can make a good speech, but the men who own the factories where you +have to work. Your Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth are the great men of +this town." + +The socialist, who had come to speak on the streets of Bidwell, was +a Swede, and his wife had come with him. As he talked his wife made +figures on a blackboard. The old story of the trick by which the +citizens of the town had lost their money in the plant-setting machine +company was revived and told over and over. The Swede, a big man with +heavy fists, spoke of the prominent citizens of the town as thieves who +by a trick had robbed their fellows. As he stood on the box beside +his wife, and raising his fists shouted crude sentences condemning the +capitalist class, men who had gone away angry came back to listen. +The speaker declared himself a workman like themselves and, unlike the +religious salvationists who occasionally spoke on the streets, did not +beg for money. "I'm a workman like yourselves," he shouted. "Both my +wife and myself work until we've saved a little money. Then we come out +to some town like this and fight capital until we're busted. We've been +fighting for years now and we'll keep on fighting as long as we live." + +As the orator shouted out his sentences he raised his fist as though to +strike, and looked not unlike one of his ancestors, the Norsemen, who +in old times had sailed far and wide over unknown seas in search of the +fighting they loved. The men of Bidwell began to respect him. "After +all, what he says sounds like mighty good sense," they declared, shaking +their heads. "Maybe Ed Hall isn't any worse than any one else. We got to +break up the system. That's a fact. Some of these days we got to break +up the system." + + * * * * * + +Jim Gibson got to the door of Joe's shop at half-past seven o'clock. +Several men stood on the sidewalk and he stopped and stood before them, +intending to tell again the story of his triumph over his employer. +Inside the shop Joe was already at his bench and at work. The men, +two of them strikers from the corn-cutting machine plant, complained +bitterly of the difficulty of supporting their families, and a third +man, a fellow with a big black mustache who smoked a pipe, began to +repeat some of the axioms in regard to industrialism and the class war +he had picked up from the socialist orator. Jim listened for a moment +and then, turning, put his thumb on his buttocks and wriggled his +fingers. "Oh, hell," he sneered, "what are you fools talking about? +You're going to get up a union or get into the socialist party. What're +you talking about? A union or a party can't help a man who can't look +out for himself." + +The blustering and half intoxicated harness maker stood in the open +shop door and told again and in detail the story of his triumph over his +employer. Then another thought came and he spoke of the twelve hundred +dollars Joe had lost in the stock, of the plant-setting machine company. +"He lost his money and you fellows are going to get licked in this +fight," he declared. "You're all wrong, you fellows, when you talk about +unions or joining the socialist party. What counts is what a man can do +for himself. Character counts. Yes, sir, character makes a man what he +is." + +Jim pounded on his chest and glared about him. + +"Look at me," he said. "I was a drunkard and down and out when I came +to this town; a drunkard, that's what I was and that's what I am. I came +here to this shop to work, and now, if you want to know, ask any one +in town who runs this place. The socialist says money is power. Well, +there's a man inside here who has the money, but you bet I've got the +power." + +Slapping his knees with his hands Jim laughed heartily. A week before, a +traveling man had come to the shop to sell machine-made harness. Joe had +ordered the man out and Jim had called him back. He had placed an order +for eighteen sets of the harness and had made Joe sign the order. The +harness had arrived that afternoon and was now hung in the shop. "It's +hanging in the shop now," Jim cried. "Go see for yourself." + +Triumphantly Jim walked up and down before the men on the sidewalk, and +his voice rang through the shop where Joe sat on his harness-maker's +horse under a swinging lamp hard at work. "I tell you, character's the +thing that counts," the roaring voice cried. "You see I'm a workingman +like you fellows, but I don't join a union or a socialist party. I get +my way. My boss Joe in there's a sentimental old fool, that's what he +is. All his life he's made harnesses by hand and he thinks that's the +only way. He claims he has pride in his work, that's what he claims." + +Jim laughed again. "Do you know what he did the other day when that +traveler had gone out of the shop and after I had made him sign that +order?" he asked. "Cried, that's what he did. By God, he did,--sat there +and cried." + +Again Jim laughed, but the workmen on the sidewalk did not join in his +merriment. Going to one of them, the one who had declared his intention +of joining the union, Jim began to berate him. "You think you can lick +Ed Hall with Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth back of him, eh?" he asked +sharply. "Well, I'll tell you what--you can't. All the unions in the +world won't help you. You'll get licked--for why? + +"For why? Because Ed Hall is like me, that's for why. He's got +character, that's what he's got." + +Growing weary of his boasting and the silence of his audience, Jim +started to walk in at the door, but when one of the workmen, a pale man +of fifty with a graying mustache, spoke, he turned to listen. "You're a +suck, a suck and a lickspittle, that's what you are," said the pale man, +his voice trembling with passion. + +Jim ran through the crowd of men and knocked the speaker to the sidewalk +with a blow of his fist. Two of the other workmen seemed about to take +up the cause of their fallen brother, but when in spite of their threats +Jim stood his ground, they hesitated. They went to help the pale workman +to his feet, and Jim went into the shop and closed the door. Climbing +onto his horse he went to work, and the men went off along the sidewalk, +still threatening to do what they had not done when the opportunity +offered. + +Joe worked in silence beside his employee and night began to settle down +over the disturbed town. Above the clatter of many voices in the street +outside could be heard the loud voice of the socialist orator who had +taken up his stand for the evening at a nearby corner. When it had +become quite dark outside, the old harness maker climbed down from his +horse and going to the front door opened it softly and looked up and +down the street. Then he closed it again and walked toward the rear of +the shop. In his hand he held his harness-maker's knife, shaped like a +half moon and with an extraordinarily sharp circular edge. The harness +maker's wife had died during the year before and since that time he had +not slept well at night. Often for a week at a time he did not sleep +at all, but lay all night with wide-open eyes, thinking strange, new +thoughts. In the daytime and when Jim was not about, he sometimes spent +hours sharpening the moon-shaped knife on a piece of leather; and on the +day after the incident of the placing of the order for the factory-made +harness he had gone into a hardware store and bought a cheap revolver. +He had been sharpening the knife as Jim talked to the workmen outside. +When Jim began to tell the story of his humiliation he had stopped +sewing at the broken harness in his vise and, getting up, had taken the +knife from its hiding-place under a pile of leather on a bench to give +its edge a few last caressing strokes. + +Holding the knife in his hand Joe went with shambling steps toward the +place where Jim sat absorbed in his work. A brooding silence seemed to +lie over the shop and even outside in the street all noises suddenly +ceased. Old Joe's gait changed. As he passed behind the horse on which +Jim sat, life came into his figure and he walked with a soft, cat-like +tread. Joy shone in his eyes. As though warned of something impending, +Jim turned and opened his mouth to growl at his employer, but his words +never found their way to his lips. The old man made a peculiar half +step, half leap past the horse, and the knife whipped through the air. +At one stroke he had succeeded in practically severing Jim Gibson's head +from his body. + +There was no sound in the shop. Joe threw the knife into a corner and +ran quickly past the horse where the body of Jim Gibson sat upright. +Then the body fell to the floor with a thump and there was the sharp +rattle of heels on the board floor. The old man locked the front door +and listened impatiently. When all was again quiet he went to search for +the knife he had thrown away, but could not find it. Taking Jim's +knife from a bench under the hanging lamp, he stepped over the body and +climbed upon his horse to turn out the lights. + +For an hour Joe stayed in the shop with the dead man. The eighteen +sets of harness shipped from a Cleveland factory had been received that +morning, and Jim had insisted they be unpacked and hung on hooks along +the shop walls. He had bullied Joe into helping hang the harnesses, and +now Joe took them down alone. One by one they were laid on the floor and +with Jim's knife the old man cut each strap into little pieces that made +a pile of litter on the floor reaching to his waist. When that was done +he went again to the rear of the shop, again stepping almost carelessly +over the dead man, and took the revolver out of the pocket of an +overcoat that hung by the door. + +Joe went out of the shop by the back door, and having locked it +carefully, crept through an alleyway and into the lighted street where +people walked up and down. The next place to his own was a barber shop, +and as he hurried along the sidewalk, two young men came out and called +to him. "Hey," they called, "do you believe in factory-made harness +now-days, Joe Wainsworth? Hey, what do you say? Do you sell factory-made +harness?" + +Joe did not answer, but stepping off the sidewalk, walked in the road. +A group of Italian laborers passed, talking rapidly and making gestures +with their hands. As he went more deeply into the heart of the growing +city, past the socialist orator and a labor organizer who was addressing +a crowd of men on another corner, his step became cat-like as it had +been in the moment before the knife flashed at the throat of Jim Gibson. +The crowds of people frightened him. He imagined himself set upon by +a crowd and hanged to a lamp-post. The voice of the labor orator arose +above the murmur of voices in the street. "We've got to take power into +our hands. We've got to carry on our own battle for power," the voice +declared. + +The harness maker turned a corner into a quiet street, his hand +caressing affectionately the revolver in the side pocket of his coat. +He intended to kill himself, but had not wanted to die in the same room +with Jim Gibson. In his own way he had always been a very sensitive +man and his only fear was that rough hands fall upon him before he had +completed the evening's work. He was quite sure that had his wife +been alive she would have understood what had happened. She had always +understood everything he did or said. He remembered his courtship. His +wife had been a country girl and on Sundays, after their marriage, they +had gone together to spend the day in the wood. After Joe had brought +his wife to Bidwell they continued the practice. One of his customers, a +well-to-do farmer, lived five miles north of town, and on his farm there +was a grove of beech trees. Almost every Sunday for several years he got +a horse from the livery stable and took his wife there. After dinner at +the farmhouse, he and the farmer gossiped for an hour, while the women +washed the dishes, and then he took his wife and went into the beech +forest. No underbrush grew under the spreading branches of the trees, +and when the two people had remained silent for a time, hundreds of +squirrels and chipmunks came to chatter and play about them. Joe had +brought nuts in his pocket and threw them about. The quivering little +animals drew near and then with a flip of their tails scampered away. +One day a boy from a neighboring farm came to the wood and shot one +of the squirrels. It happened just as Joe and his wife came from the +farmhouse and he saw the wounded squirrel hang from the branch of a +tree, and then fall. It lay at his feet and his wife grew ill and leaned +against him for support. He said nothing, but stared at the quivering +thing on the ground. When it lay still the boy came and picked it up. +Still Joe said nothing. Taking his wife's arm he walked to where they +were in the habit of sitting, and reached in his pocket for the nuts to +scatter on the ground. The farm boy, who had felt the reproach in the +eyes of the man and woman, had gone out of the wood. Suddenly Joe +began to cry. He was ashamed and did not want his wife to see, and she +pretended she had not seen. + +On the night when he had killed Jim, Joe decided he would walk to the +farm and the beech forest and there kill himself. He hurried past a long +row of dark stores and warehouses in the newly built section of town and +came to a residence street. He saw a man coming toward him and stepped +into the stairway of a store building. The man stopped under a street +lamp to light a cigar, and the harness maker recognized him. It was +Steve Hunter, who had induced him to invest the twelve hundred dollars +in the stock of the plant-setting machine company, the man who had +brought the new times to Bidwell, the man who was at the bottom of all +such innovations as machine-made harnesses. Joe had killed his employee, +Jim Gibson, in cold anger, but now a new kind of anger took possession +of him. Something danced before his eyes and his hands trembled so that +he was afraid the gun he had taken out of his pocket would fall to the +sidewalk. It wavered as he raised it and fired, but chance came to his +assistance. Steve Hunter pitched forward to the sidewalk. + +Without stopping to pick up the revolver that had fallen out of his +hand, Joe now ran up a stairway and got into a dark, empty hall. He felt +his way along a wall and came presently to another stairway, leading +down. It brought him into an alleyway, and going along this he came out +near the bridge that led over the river and into what in the old days +had been Turner's Pike, the road out which he had driven with his wife +to the farm and the beech forest. + +But one thing now puzzled Joe Wainsworth. He had lost his revolver and +did not know how he was to manage his own death. "I must do it some +way," he thought, when at last, after nearly three hours steady plodding +and hiding in fields to avoid the teams going along the road he got to +the beech forest. He went to sit under a tree near the place where he +had so often sat through quiet Sunday afternoons with his wife beside +him. "I'll rest a little and then I'll think how I can do it," he +thought wearily, holding his head in his hands. "I mustn't go to sleep. +If they find me they'll hurt me. They'll hurt me before I have a chance +to kill myself. They'll hurt me before I have a chance to kill myself," +he repeated, over and over, holding his head in his hands and rocking +gently back and forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The car driven by Tom Butterworth stopped at a town, and Tom got out to +fill his pockets with cigars and incidentally to enjoy the wonder and +admiration of the citizens. He was in an exalted mood and words flowed +from him. As the motor under its hood purred, so the brain under the +graying old head purred and threw forth words. He talked to the idlers +before the drug stores in the towns and, when the car started again and +they were out in the open country, his voice, pitched in a high key to +make itself heard above the purring engine, became shrill. Having struck +the shrill tone of the new age the voice went on and on. + +But the voice and the swift-moving car did not stir Clara. She tried +not to hear the voice, and fixing her eyes on the soft landscape flowing +past under the moon, tried to think of other times and places. She +thought of nights when she had walked with Kate Chanceller through the +streets of Columbus, and of the silent ride she had taken with Hugh that +night they were married. Her mind went back into her childhood and she +remembered the long days she had spent riding with her father in this +same valley, going from farm to farm to haggle and dicker for the +purchase of calves and pigs. Her father had not talked then but +sometimes, when they had driven far and were homeward bound in the +failing light of evening, words did come to him. She remembered one +evening in the summer after her mother died and when her father often +took her with him on his drives. They had stopped for the evening meal +at the house of a farmer and when they got on the road again, the moon +came out. Something present in the spirit of the night stirred Tom, and +he spoke of his life as a boy in the new country and of his fathers and +brothers. "We worked hard, Clara," he said. "The whole country was new +and every acre we planted had to be cleared." The mind of the prosperous +farmer fell into a reminiscent mood and he spoke of little things +concerning his life as a boy and young man; the days of cutting wood +alone in the silent, white forest when winter came and it was time for +getting out firewood and logs for new farm buildings, the log rollings +to which neighboring farmers came, when great piles of logs were made +and set afire that space might be cleared for planting. In the winter +the boy went to school in the village of Bidwell and as he was even then +an energetic, pushing youth, already intent on getting on in the world, +he set traps in the forest and on the banks of streams and walked the +trap line on his way to and from school. In the spring he sent his pelts +to the growing town of Cleveland where they were sold. He spoke of the +money he got and of how he had finally saved enough to buy a horse of +his own. + +Tom had talked of many other things on that night, of the spelling-downs +at the schoolhouse in town, of huskings and dances held in the barns and +of the evening when he went skating on the river and first met his wife. +"We took to each other at once," he said softly. "There was a fire built +on the bank of the river and after I had skated with her we went and sat +down to warm ourselves. + +"We wanted to get married to each other right away," he told Clara. "I +walked home with her after we got tired of skating, and after that I +thought of nothing but how to get my own farm and have a home of my +own." + +As the daughter sat in the motor listening to the shrill voice of the +father, who now talked only of the making of machines and money, that +other man talking softly in the moonlight as the horse jogged slowly +along the dark road seemed very far away. All such men seemed very far +away. "Everything worth while is very far away," she thought bitterly. +"The machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far +from the old sweet things." + +The motor flew along the roads and Tom thought of his old longing to +own and drive fast racing horses. "I used to be half crazy to own fast +horses," he shouted to his son-in-law. "I didn't do it, because owning +fast horses meant a waste of money, but it was in my mind all the time. +I wanted to go fast: faster than any one else." In a kind of ecstasy he +gave the motor more gas and shot the speed up to fifty miles an hour. +The hot, summer air, fanned into a violent wind, whistled past his head. +"Where would the damned race horses be now," he called, "where would +your Maud S. or your J.I.C. be, trying to catch up with me in this car?" + +Yellow wheat fields and fields of young corn, tall now and in the light +breeze that was blowing whispering in the moonlight, flashed past, +looking like squares on a checker board made for the amusement of +the child of some giant. The car ran through miles of the low farming +country, through the main streets of towns, where the people ran out of +the stores to stand on the sidewalks and look at the new wonder, through +sleeping bits of woodlands--remnants of the great forests in which +Tom had worked as a boy--and across wooden bridges over small streams, +beside which grew tangled masses of elderberries, now yellow and +fragrant with blossoms. + +At eleven o'clock having already achieved some ninety miles Tom turned +the car back. Running more sedately he again talked of the mechanical +triumphs of the age in which he had lived. "I've brought you whizzing +along, you and Clara," he said proudly. "I tell you what, Hugh, Steve +Hunter and I have brought you along fast in more ways that one. You've +got to give Steve credit for seeing something in you, and you've got to +give me credit for putting my money back of your brains. I don't want to +take no credit from Steve. There's credit enough for all. All I got +to say for myself is that I saw the hole in the doughnut. Yes, sir, I +wasn't so blind. I saw the hole in the doughnut." + +Tom stopped to light a cigar and then drove on again. "I'll tell you +what, Hugh," he said, "I wouldn't say so to any one not of my family, +but the truth is, I'm the man that's been putting over the big things +there in Bidwell. The town is going to be a city now and a mighty big +city. Towns in this State like Columbus, Toledo and Dayton, had better +look out for themselves. I'm the man has always kept Steve Hunter steady +and going straight ahead down the track, as this car goes with my hand +at the steering wheel. + +"You don't know anything about it, and I don't want you should talk, +but there are new things coming to Bidwell," he added. "When I was in +Chicago last month I met a man who has been making rubber buggy and +bicycle tires. I'm going in with him and we're going to start a plant +for making automobile-tires right in Bidwell. The tire business is bound +to be one of the greatest on earth and they ain't no reason why Bidwell +shouldn't be the biggest tire center ever known in the world." Although +the car now ran quietly, Tom's voice again became shrill. "There'll +be hundreds of thousands of cars like this tearing over every road in +America," he declared. "Yes, sir, they will; and if I calculate right +Bidwell'll be the great tire town of the world." + +For a long time Tom drove in silence, and when he again began to talk it +was a new mood. He told a tale of life in Bidwell that stirred both Hugh +and Clara deeply. He was angry and had Clara not been in the car would +have become violently profane. + +"I'd like to hang the men who are making trouble in the shops in town," +he broke forth. "You know who I mean, I mean the labor men who are +trying to make trouble for Steve Hunter and me. There's a socialist +talking every night on the street over there. I'll tell you, Hugh, the +laws of this country are wrong." For ten minutes he talked of the labor +difficulties in the shops. + +"They better look out," he declared, and was so angry that his voice +rose to something like a suppressed scream. "We're inventing new +machines pretty fast now-days," he cried. "Pretty soon we'll do all the +work by machines. Then what'll we do? We'll kick all the workers out and +let 'em strike till they're sick, that's what we'll do. They can talk +their fool socialism all they want, but we'll show 'em, the fools." + +His angry mood passed, and as the car turned into the last fifteen-mile +stretch of road that led to Bidwell, he told the tale that so deeply +stirred his passengers. Chuckling softly he told of the struggle of +the Bidwell harness maker, Joe Wainsworth, to prevent the sale of +machine-made harness in the community, and of his experience with his +employee, Jim Gibson. Tom had heard the tale in the bar-room of the +Bidwell House and it had made a profound impression on his mind. "I'll +tell you what," he declared, "I'm going to get in touch with Jim +Gibson. That's the kind of man to handle workers. I only heard about him +to-night, but I'm going to see him to-morrow." + +Leaning back in his seat Tom laughed heartily as he told of the +traveling man who had visited Joe Wainsworth's shop and the placing of +the order for the factory-made harness. In some intangible way he felt +that when Jim Gibson laid the order for the harness on the bench in the +shop and by the force of his personality compelled Joe Wainsworth to +sign, he justified all such men as himself. In imagination he lived in +that moment with Jim, and like Jim the incident aroused his inclination +to boast. "Why, a lot of cheap laboring skates can't down such men as +myself any more than Joe Wainsworth could down that Jim Gibson," he +declared. "They ain't got the character, you see, that's what the +matter, they ain't got the character." Tom touched some mechanism +connected with the engine of the car and it shot suddenly forward. +"Suppose one of them labor leaders were standing in the road there," he +cried. Instinctively Hugh leaned forward and peered into the darkness +through which the lights of the car cut like a great scythe, and on the +back seat Clara half rose to her feet. Tom shouted with delight and +as the car plunged along the road his voice rose in triumph. "The damn +fools!" he cried. "They think they can stop the machines. Let 'em try. +They want to go on in their old hand-made way. Let 'em look out. Let 'em +look out for such men as Jim Gibson and me." + +Down a slight incline in the road shot the car and swept around a wide +curve, and then the jumping, dancing light, running far ahead, revealed +a sight that made Tom thrust out his foot and jam on the brakes. + +In the road and in the very center of the circle of light, as though +performing a scene on the stage, three men were struggling. As the car +came to a stop, so sudden that it pitched both Clara and Hugh out of +their seats, the struggle came to an end. One of the struggling figures, +a small man without coat or hat, had jerked himself away from the +others and started to run toward the fence at the side of the road +and separating it from a grove of trees. A large, broad-shouldered man +sprang forward and catching the tail of the fleeing man's coat pulled +him back into the circle of light. His fist shot out and caught the +small man directly on the mouth. He fell like a dead thing, face +downward in the dust of the road. + +Tom ran the car slowly forward and its headlight continued to play over +the three figures. From a little pocket at the side of his driver's seat +he took a revolver. He ran the car quickly to a position near the group +in the road and stopped. + +"What's up?" he asked sharply. + +Ed Hall the factory superintendent, the man who had struck the blow +that had felled the little man, stepped forward and explained the +tragic happenings of the evening in town. The factory superintendent had +remembered that as a boy he had once worked for a few weeks on the +farm of which the wood beside the road was a part, and that on Sunday +afternoons the harness maker had come to the farm with his wife and the +two people had gone to walk in the very place where he had just been +found. "I had a hunch he would be out here," he boasted. "I figured it +out. Crowds started out of town in all directions, but I cut out alone. +Then I happened to see this fellow and just for company I brought him +along." He put up his hand and, looking at Tom, tapped his forehead. +"Cracked," he declared, "he always was. A fellow I knew saw him once in +that woods," he said pointing. "Somebody had shot a squirrel and he took +on about it as though he had lost a child. I said then he was crazy, and +he has sure proved I was right." + +At a word from her father Clara went to sit on the front seat on Hugh's +knees. Her body trembled and she was cold with fear. As her father +had told the story of Jim Gibson's triumph over Joe Wainsworth she had +wanted passionately to kill that blustering fellow. Now the thing was +done. In her mind the harness maker had come to stand for all the men +and women in the world who were in secret revolt against the absorption +of the age in machines and the products of machines. He had stood as +a protesting figure against what her father had become and what she +thought her husband had become. She had wanted Jim Gibson killed and it +had been done. As a child she had gone often to Wainsworth's shop with +her father or some farm hand, and she now remembered sharply the peace +and quiet of the place. At the thought of the same place, now become +the scene of a desperate killing, her body shook so that she clutched at +Hugh's arms, striving to steady herself. + +Ed Hall took the senseless figure of the old man in the road into his +arms and half threw it into the back seat of the car. To Clara it was as +though his rough, misunderstanding hands were on her own body. The +car started swiftly along the road and Ed told again the story of the +night's happenings. "I tell you, Mr. Hunter is in mighty bad shape, he +may die," he said. Clara turned to look at her husband and thought him +totally unaffected by what had happened. His face was quiet like her +father's face. The factory superintendent's voice went on explaining his +part in the adventures of the evening. Ignoring the pale workman who sat +lost in the shadows in a corner of the rear seat, he spoke as though +he had undertaken and accomplished the capture of the murderer +single-handed. As he afterwards explained to his wife, Ed felt he had +been a fool not to come alone. "I knew I could handle him all right," he +explained. "I wasn't afraid, but I had figured it all out he was crazy. +That made me feel shaky. When they were getting up a crowd to go out on +the hunt, I says to myself, I'll go alone. I says to myself, I'll bet +he's gone out to that woods on the Riggly farm where he and his wife +used to go on Sundays. I started and then I saw this other man standing +on a corner and I made him come with me. He didn't want to come and +I wish I'd gone alone. I could have handled him and I'd got all the +credit." + +In the car Ed told the story of the night in the streets of Bidwell. +Some one had seen Steve Hunter shot down in the street and had declared +the harness maker had done it and had then run away. A crowd had gone to +the harness shop and had found the body of Jim Gibson. On the floor of +the shop were the factory-made harnesses cut into bits. "He must have +been in there and at work for an hour or two, stayed right in there with +the man he had killed. It's the craziest thing any man ever done." + +The harness maker, lying on the floor of the car where Ed had thrown +him, stirred and sat up. Clara turned to look at him and shivered. His +shirt was torn so that the thin, old neck and shoulders could be plainly +seen in the uncertain light, and his face was covered with blood that +had dried and was now black with dust. Ed Hall went on with the tale of +his triumph. "I found him where I said to myself I would. Yes, sir, I +found him where I said to myself I would." + +The car came to the first of the houses of the town, long rows of +cheaply built frame houses standing in what had once been Ezra French's +cabbage patch, where Hugh had crawled on the ground in the moonlight, +working out the mechanical problems that confronted him in the building +of his plant-setting machine. Suddenly the distraught and frightened +man crouched on the floor of the car, raised himself on his hands and +lurched forward, trying to spring over the side. Ed Hall caught him by +the arm and jerked him back. He drew back his arm to strike again but +Clara's voice, cold and intense with passion, stopped him. "If you touch +him, I'll kill you," she said. "No matter what he does, don't you dare +strike him again." + +Tom drove the car slowly through the streets of Bidwell to the door of a +police station. Word of the return of the murderer had run ahead, and +a crowd had gathered. Although it was past two o'clock the lights still +burned in stores and saloons, and crowds stood at every corner. With the +aid of a policeman, Ed Hall, with one eye fixed cautiously on the front +seat where Clara sat, started to lead Joe Wainsworth away. "Come on now, +we won't hurt you," he said reassuringly, and had got his man free of +the car when he broke away. Springing back into the rear seat the crazed +man turned to look at the crowd. A sob broke from his lips. For a moment +he stood trembling with fright, and then turning, he for the first time +saw Hugh, the man in whose footsteps he had once crept in the darkness +in Turner's Pike, the man who had invented the machine by which the +earnings of a lifetime had been swept away. "It wasn't me. You did it. +You killed Jim Gibson," he screamed, and springing forward sank his +fingers and teeth into Hugh's neck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +One day in the month of October, four years after the time of his first +motor ride with Clara and Tom, Hugh went on a business trip to the city +of Pittsburgh. He left Bidwell in the morning and got to the steel city +at noon. At three o'clock his business was finished and he was ready to +return. + +Although he had not yet realized it, Hugh's career as a successful +inventor had received a sharp check. The trick of driving directly at +the point, of becoming utterly absorbed in the thing before him, had +been lost. He went to Pittsburgh to see about the casting of new parts +for the hay-loading machine, but what he did in Pittsburgh was of +no importance to the men who would manufacture and sell that worthy, +labor-saving tool. Although he did not know it, a young man from +Cleveland, in the employ of Tom and Steve, had already done what Hugh +was striving half-heartedly to do. The machine had been finished and +ready to market in October three years before, and after repeated tests +a lawyer had made formal application for patent. Then it was discovered +that an Iowa man had already made application for and been granted a +patent on a similar apparatus. + +When Tom came to the shop and told him what had happened Hugh had been +ready to drop the whole matter, but that was not Tom's notion. "The +devil!" he said. "Do you think we're going to waste all this money and +labor?" + +Drawings of the Iowa man's machine were secured, and Tom set Hugh at the +task of doing what he called "getting round" the other fellow's patents. +"Do the best you can and we'll go ahead," he said. "You see we've got +the money and that means power. Make what changes you can and then we'll +go on with our manufacturing plans. We'll whipsaw this other fellow +through the courts. We'll fight him till he's sick of fight and then +we'll buy him out cheap. I've had the fellow looked up and he hasn't any +money and is a boozer besides. You go ahead. We'll get that fellow all +right." + +Hugh had tried valiantly to go along the road marked out for him by his +father-in-law and had put aside other plans to rebuild the machine +he had thought of as completed and out of the way. He made new parts, +changed other parts, studied the drawings of the Iowa man's machine, did +what he could to accomplish his task. + +Nothing happened. A conscientious determination not to infringe on the +work of the Iowa man stood in his way. + +Then something did happen. At night as he sat alone in his shop after a +long study of the drawings of the other man's machine, he put them aside +and sat staring into the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by his +lamp. He forgot the machine and thought of the unknown inventor, the man +far away over forests, lakes and rivers, who for months had worked on +the same problem that had occupied his mind. Tom had said the man had +no money and was a boozer. He could be defeated, bought cheap. He was +himself at work on the instrument of the man's defeat. + +Hugh left his shop and went for a walk, and the problem connected with +the twisting of the iron and steel parts of the hay-loading apparatus +into new forms was again left unsolved. The Iowa man had become a +distinct, almost understandable personality to Hugh. Tom had said he +drank, got drunk. His own father had been a drunkard. Once a man, the +very man who had been the instrument of his own coming to Bidwell, had +taken it for granted he was a drunkard. He wondered if some twist of +life might not have made him one. + +Thinking of the Iowa man, Hugh began to think of other men. He thought +of his father and of himself. When he was striving to come out of the +filth, the flies, the poverty, the fishy smells, the shadowy dreams of +his life by the river, his father had often tried to draw him back into +that life. In imagination he saw before him the dissolute man who had +bred him. On afternoons of summer days in the river town, when Henry +Shepard was not about, his father sometimes came to the station where he +was employed. He had begun to earn a little money and his father wanted +it to buy drinks. Why? + +There was a problem for Hugh's mind, a problem that could not be solved +in wood and steel. He walked and thought about it when he should have +been making new parts for the hay-loading apparatus. He had lived but +little in the life of the imagination, had been afraid to live that +life, had been warned and re-warned against living it. The shadowy +figure of the unknown inventor in the state of Iowa, who had been +brother to himself, who had worked on the same problems and had come +to the same conclusions, slipped away, followed by the almost equally +shadowy figure of his father. Hugh tried to think of himself and his own +life. + +For a time that seemed a simple and easy way out of the new and +intricate task he had set for his mind. His own life was a matter of +history. He knew about himself. Having walked far out of town, he turned +and went back toward his shop. His way led through the new city that +had grown up since his coming to Bidwell. Turner's Pike that had been +a country road along which on summer evenings lovers strolled to the +Wheeling station and Pickleville was now a street. All that section of +the new city was given over to workers' homes and here and there a store +had been built. The Widow McCoy's place was gone and in its place was a +warehouse, black and silent under the night sky. How grim the street +in the late night! The berry pickers who once went along the road at +evening were now gone forever. Like Ezra French's sons they had perhaps +become factory hands. Apple and cherry trees once grew along the road. +They had dropped their blossoms on the heads of strolling lovers. They +also were gone. Hugh had once crept along the road at the heels of Ed +Hall, who walked with his arm about a girl's waist. He had heard Ed +complaining of his lot in life and crying out for new times. It was Ed +Hall who had introduced the piecework plan in the factories of Bidwell +and brought about the strike, during which three men had been killed and +ill-feeling engendered in hundreds of silent workers. That strike had +been won by Tom and Steve and they had since that time been victorious +in a larger and more serious strike. Ed Hall was now at the head of a +new factory being built along the Wheeling tracks. He was growing fat +and was prosperous. + +When Hugh got to his shop he lighted his lamp and again got out the +drawings he had come from home to study. They lay unnoticed on the desk. +He looked at his watch. It was two o'clock. "Clara may be awake. I must +go home," he thought vaguely. He now owned his own motor car and it +stood in the road before the shop. Getting in he drove away into the +darkness over the bridge, out of Turner's Pike and along a street lined +with factories and railroad sidings. Some of the factories were working +and were ablaze with lights. Through lighted windows he could see men +stationed along benches and bending over huge, iron machines. He had +come from home that evening to study the work of an unknown man from the +far away state of Iowa, to try to circumvent that man. Then he had gone +to walk and to think of himself and his own life. "The evening has been +wasted. I have done nothing," he thought gloomily as his car climbed up +a long street lined with the homes of the wealthier citizens of his town +and turned into the short stretch of Medina Road still left between the +town and the Butterworth farmhouse. + + * * * * * + +On the day when he went to Pittsburgh, Hugh got to the station where +he was to take the homeward train at three, and the train did not leave +until four. He went into a big waiting-room and sat on a bench in a +corner. After a time he arose and going to a stand bought a newspaper, +but did not read it. It lay unopened on the bench beside him. The +station was filled with men, women, and children who moved restlessly +about. A train came in and a swarm of people departed, were carried into +faraway parts of the country, while new people came into the station +from a nearby street. He looked at those who were going out into the +train shed. "It may be that some of them are going to that town in Iowa +where that fellow lives," he thought. It was odd how thoughts of the +unknown Iowa man clung to him. + +One day, during the same summer and but a few months earlier, Hugh had +gone to the town of Sandusky, Ohio, on the same mission that had brought +him to Pittsburgh. How many parts for the hay-loading machine had been +cast and later thrown away! They did the work, but he decided each time +that he had infringed on the other man's machine. When that happened he +did not consult Tom. Something within him warned him against doing that. +He destroyed the part. "It wasn't what I wanted," he told Tom who had +grown discouraged with his son-in-law but did not openly voice his +dissatisfaction. "Oh, well, he's lost his pep, marriage has taken the +life out of him. We'll have to get some one else on the job," he said to +Steve, who had entirely recovered from the wound received at the hands +of Joe Wainsworth. + +On that day when he went to Sandusky, Hugh had several hours to wait +for his homebound train and went to walk by the shores of a bay. Some +brightly colored stones attracted his attention and he picked several +of them up and put them in his pockets. In the station at Pittsburgh he +took them out and held them in his hand. A light came in at a window, a +long, slanting light that played over the stones. His roving, disturbed +mind was caught and held. He rolled the stones back and forth. The +colors blended and then separated again. When he raised his eyes, a +woman and a child on a nearby bench, also attracted by the flashing bit +of color held like a flame in his hand, were looking at him intently. + +He was confused and walked out of the station into the street. "What a +silly fellow I have become, playing with colored stones like a child," +he thought, but at the same time put the stones carefully into his +pockets. + +Ever since that night when he had been attacked in the motor, the sense +of some indefinable, inner struggle had been going on in Hugh, as it +went on that day in the station at Pittsburgh and on the night in the +shop, when he found himself unable to fix his attention on the prints +of the Iowa man's machine. Unconsciously and quite without intent he had +come into a new level of thought and action. He had been an unconscious +worker, a doer and was now becoming something else. The time of the +comparatively simple struggle with definite things, with iron and steel, +had passed. He fought to accept himself, to understand himself, to +relate himself with the life about him. The poor white, son of the +defeated dreamer by the river, who had forced himself in advance of his +fellows along the road of mechanical development, was still in advance +of his fellows of the growing Ohio towns. The struggle he was making was +the struggle his fellows of another generation would one and all have to +make. + +Hugh got into his home-bound train at four o'clock and went into the +smoking car. The somewhat distorted and twisted fragment of thoughts +that had all day been playing through his mind stayed with him. "What +difference does it make if the new parts I have ordered for the machine +have to be thrown away?" he thought. "If I never complete the machine, +it's all right. The one the Iowa man had made does the work." + +For a long time he struggled with that thought. Tom, Steve, all the +Bidwell men with whom he had been associated, had a philosophy into +which the thought did not fit. "When you put your hand to the plow do +not turn back," they said. Their language was full of such sayings. To +attempt to do a thing and fail was the great crime, the sin against the +Holy Ghost. There was unconscious defiance of a whole civilization in +Hugh's attitude toward the completion of the parts that would help Tom +and his business associates "get around" the Iowa man's patent. + +The train from Pittsburgh went through northern Ohio to a junction +where Hugh would get another train for Bidwell. Great booming towns, +Youngstown, Akron, Canton, Massillon--manufacturing towns all--lay along +the way. In the smoker Hugh sat, again playing with the colored stones +held in his hand. There was relief for his mind in the stones. The light +continually played about them, and their color shifted and changed. One +could look at the stones and get relief from thoughts. Raising his +eyes he looked out of the car window. The train was passing through +Youngstown. His eyes looked along grimy streets of worker's houses +clustered closely about huge mills. The same light that had played over +the stones in his hand began to play over his mind, and for a moment +he became not an inventor but a poet. The revolution within had really +begun. A new declaration of independence wrote itself within him. "The +gods have thrown the towns like stones over the flat country, but the +stones have no color. They do not burn and change in the light," he +thought. + +Two men who sat in a seat in the westward bound train began to talk, +and Hugh listened. One of them had a son in college. "I want him to be +a mechanical engineer," he said. "If he doesn't do that I'll get him +started in business. It's a mechanical age and a business age. I want to +see him succeed. I want him to keep in the spirit of the times." + +Hugh's train was due in Bidwell at ten, but did not arrive until half +after eleven. He walked from the station through the town toward the +Butterworth farm. + +At the end of their first year of marriage a daughter had been born to +Clara, and some time before his trip to Pittsburgh she had told him +she was again pregnant. "She may be sitting up. I must get home," he +thought, but when he got to the bridge near the farmhouse, the bridge on +which he had stood beside Clara that first time they were together, he +got out of the road and went to sit on a fallen log at the edge of a +grove of trees. + +"How quiet and peaceful the night!" he thought and leaning forward held +his long, troubled face in his hands. He wondered why peace and quiet +would not come to him, why life would not let him alone. "After all, +I've lived a simple life and have done good work," he thought. "Some of +the things they've said about me are true enough. I've invented machines +that save useless labor, I've lightened men's labor." + +Hugh tried to cling to that thought, but it would not stay in his mind. +All the thoughts that gave his mind peace and quiet flew away like birds +seen on a distant horizon at evening. It had been so ever since that +night when he was suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by the crazed +harness maker in the motor. Before that his mind had often been +unsettled, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted men and women and close +association with men and women. Often his problem was yet more simple. +He wanted a woman, one who would love him and lie close to him at night. +He wanted the respect of his fellows in the town where he had come to +live his life. He wanted to succeed at the particular task to which he +had set his hand. + +The attack made upon him by the insane harness maker had at first +seemed to settle all his problems. At the moment when the frightened and +desperate man sank his teeth and fingers into Hugh's neck, something had +happened to Clara. It was Clara who, with a strength and quickness quite +amazing, had torn the insane man away. All through that evening she had +been hating her husband and father, and then suddenly she loved Hugh. +The seeds of a child were already alive in her, and when the body of her +man was furiously attacked, he became also her child. Swiftly, like +the passing of a shadow over the surface of a river on a windy day, the +change in her attitude toward her husband took place. All that evening +she had been hating the new age she had thought so perfectly personified +in the two men, who talked of the making of machines while the beauty +of the night was whirled away into the darkness with the cloud of dust +thrown into the air by the flying motor. She had been hating Hugh +and sympathizing with the dead past he and other men like him were +destroying, the past that was represented by the figure of the old +harness maker who wanted to do his work by hand in the old way, by the +man who had aroused the scorn and derision of her father. + +And then the past rose up to strike. It struck with claws and teeth, and +the claws and teeth sank into Hugh's flesh, into the flesh of the man +whose seed was already alive within her. + +At that moment the woman who had been a thinker stopped thinking. Within +her arose the mother, fierce, indomitable, strong with the strength of +the roots of a tree. To her then and forever after Hugh was no hero, +remaking the world, but a perplexed boy hurt by life. He never again +escaped out of boyhood in her consciousness of him. With the strength +of a tigress she tore the crazed harness maker away from Hugh, and with +something of the surface brutality of another Ed Hall, threw him to +the floor of the car. When Ed and the policeman, assisted by several +bystanders, came running forward, she waited almost indifferently while +they forced the screaming and kicking man through the crowd and in at +the door of the police station. + +For Clara the thing for which she had hungered had, she thought, +happened. In quick, sharp tones she ordered her father to drive the +car to a doctor's house and later stood by while the torn and lacerated +flesh of Hugh's cheek and neck was bandaged. The thing for which Joe +Wainsworth stood and that she had thought was so precious to herself no +longer existed in her consciousness, and if later she was for some weeks +nervous and half ill, it was not because of any thought given to the +fate of the old harness maker. + +The sudden attack out of the town's past had brought Hugh to Clara, had +made him a living if not quite satisfying companion to her, but it had +brought something quite different to Hugh. The bite of the man's teeth +and the torn places on his cheeks left by the tense fingers had mended, +leaving but a slight scar; but a virus had got into his veins. The +disease of thinking had upset the harness maker's mind and the germ of +that disease had got into Hugh's blood. It had worked up into his eyes +and ears. Words men dropped thoughtlessly and that in the past had been +blown past his ears, as chaff is blown from wheat in the harvest, now +stayed to echo and re-echo in his mind. In the past he had seen towns +and factories grow and had accepted without question men's word that +growth was invariably good. Now his eyes looked at the towns, at +Bidwell, Akron, Youngstown, and all the great, new towns scattered +up and down mid-western America as on the train and in the station at +Pittsburgh he had looked at the colored stones held in his hand. He +looked at the towns and wanted light and color to play over them as they +played over the stones, and when that did not happen, his mind, filled +with strange new hungers engendered by the disease of thinking, made up +words over which lights played. "The gods have scattered towns over +the flat lands," his mind had said, as he sat in the smoking car of the +train, and the phrase came back to him later, as he sat in the darkness +on the log with his head held in his hands. It was a good phrase and +lights could play over it as they played over the colored stones, but it +would in no way answer the problem of how to "get around" the Iowa's man +patent on the hay loading device. + +Hugh did not get to the Butterworth farmhouse until two o'clock in the +morning, but when he got there his wife was awake and waiting for him. +She heard his heavy, dragging footsteps in the road as he turned in at +the farm gate, and getting quickly out of bed, threw a cloak over her +shoulders and came out to the porch facing the barns. A late moon had +come up and the barnyard was washed with moonlight. From the barns came +the low, sweet sound of contented animals nibbling at the hay in the +mangers before them, from a row of sheds back of one of the barns came +the soft bleating of sheep and in a far away field a calf bellowed +loudly and was answered by its mother. + +When Hugh stepped into the moonlight around the corner of the house, +Clara ran down the steps to meet him, and taking his arm, led him past +the barns and over the bridge where as a child she had seen the figures +of her fancy advancing towards her. Sensing his troubled state her +mother spirit was aroused. He was unfilled by the life he led. She +understood that. It was so with her. By a lane they went to a fence +where nothing but open fields lay between the farm and the town far +below. Although she sensed his troubled state, Clara was not thinking +of Hugh's trip to Pittsburgh nor of the problems connected with the +completion of the hay-loading machine. It may be that like her father +she had dismissed from her mind all thoughts of him as one who would +continue to help solve the mechanical problems of his age. Thoughts +of his continued success had never meant much to her, but during the +evening something had happened to Clara and she wanted to tell him about +it, to take him into the joy of it. Their first child had been a girl +and she was sure the next would be a man child. "I felt him to-night," +she said, when they had got to the place by the fence and saw below the +lights of the town. "I felt him to-night," she said again, "and oh, he +was strong! He kicked like anything. I am sure this time it's a boy." + +For perhaps ten minutes Clara and Hugh stood by the fence. The disease +of thinking that was making Hugh useless for the work of his age had +swept away many old things within him and he was not self-conscious in +the presence of his woman. When she told him of the struggle of the man +of another generation, striving to be born he put his arm about her and +held her close against his long body. For a time they stood in silence, +and then started to return to the house and sleep. As they went past +the barns and the bunkhouse where several men now slept they heard, as +though coming out of the past, the loud snoring of the rapidly ageing +farm hand, Jim Priest, and then above that sound and above the sound of +the animals stirring in the barns arose another sound, a sound shrill +and intense, greetings perhaps to an unborn Hugh McVey. For some reason, +perhaps to announce a shift in crews, the factories of Bidwell that were +engaged in night work set up a great whistling and screaming. The sound +ran up the hillside and rang in the ears of Hugh as, with his arm about +Clara's shoulders, he went up the steps and in at the farmhouse door. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poor White, by Sherwood Anderson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + +***** This file should be named 7414.txt or 7414.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/4/1/7414/ + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Poor White + +Author: Sherwood Anderson + +Release Date: February, 2005 [EBook #7414] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on April 26, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +[Note: The evident misprint of Book Six for Book Five in the original +is preserved here.] + + + POOR WHITE + + + A NOVEL BY + + SHERWOOD ANDERSON + + AUTHOR OF + + WINESBURG, OHIO + + + + + + TO + + TENNESSEE MITCHELL ANDERSON + + + + +BOOK I + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Hugh McVey was born in a little hole of a town stuck on a mud bank on the +western shore of the Mississippi River in the State of Missouri. It was +a miserable place in which to be born. With the exception of a narrow +strip of black mud along the river, the land for ten miles back from the +town--called in derision by river men "Mudcat Landing"--was almost entirely +worthless and unproductive. The soil, yellow, shallow and stony, was +tilled, in Hugh's time, by a race of long gaunt men who seemed as exhausted +and no-account as the land on which they lived. They were chronically +discouraged, and the merchants and artisans of the town were in the same +state. The merchants, who ran their stores--poor tumble-down ramshackle +affairs--on the credit system, could not get pay for the goods they handed +out over their counters and the artisans, the shoemakers, carpenters and +harnessmakers, could not get pay for the work they did. Only the town's two +saloons prospered. The saloon keepers sold their wares for cash and, as the +men of the town and the farmers who drove into town felt that without drink +life was unbearable, cash always could be found for the purpose of getting +drunk. + +Hugh McVey's father, John McVey, had been a farm hand in his youth but +before Hugh was born had moved into town to find employment in a tannery. +The tannery ran for a year or two and then failed, but John McVey stayed in +town. He also became a drunkard. It was the easy obvious thing for him to +do. During the time of his employment in the tannery he had been married +and his son had been born. Then his wife died and the idle workman took his +child and went to live in a tiny fishing shack by the river. How the boy +lived through the next few years no one ever knew. John McVey loitered in +the streets and on the river bank and only awakened out of his habitual +stupor when, driven by hunger or the craving for drink, he went for a day's +work in some farmer's field at harvest time or joined a number of other +idlers for an adventurous trip down river on a lumber raft. The baby was +left shut up in the shack by the river or carried about wrapped in a soiled +blanket. Soon after he was old enough to walk he was compelled to find work +in order that he might eat. The boy of ten went listlessly about town at +the heels of his father. The two found work, which the boy did while the +man lay sleeping in the sun. They cleaned cisterns, swept out stores and +saloons and at night went with a wheelbarrow and a box to remove and dump +in the river the contents of out-houses. At fourteen Hugh was as tall as +his father and almost without education. He could read a little and could +write his own name, had picked up these accomplishments from other boys who +came to fish with him in the river, but he had never been to school. For +days sometimes he did nothing but lie half asleep in the shade of a bush on +the river bank. The fish he caught on his more industrious days he sold for +a few cents to some housewife, and thus got money to buy food for his big +growing indolent body. Like an animal that has come to its maturity he +turned away from his father, not because of resentment for his hard youth, +but because he thought it time to begin to go his own way. + +In his fourteenth year and when the boy was on the point of sinking into +the sort of animal-like stupor in which his father had lived, something +happened to him. A railroad pushed its way down along the river to his town +and he got a job as man of all work for the station master. He swept out +the station, put trunks on trains, mowed the grass in the station yard and +helped in a hundred odd ways the man who held the combined jobs of ticket +seller, baggage master and telegraph operator at the little out-of-the-way +place. + +Hugh began a little to awaken. He lived with his employer, Henry Shepard, +and his wife, Sarah Shepard, and for the first time in his life sat down +regularly at table. His life, lying on the river bank through long summer +afternoons or sitting perfectly still for endless hours in a boat, had bred +in him a dreamy detached outlook on life. He found it hard to be definite +and to do definite things, but for all his stupidity the boy had a great +store of patience, a heritage perhaps from his mother. In his new place the +station master's wife, Sarah Shepard, a sharp-tongued, good-natured woman, +who hated the town and the people among whom fate had thrown her, scolded +at him all day long. She treated him like a child of six, told him how +to sit at table, how to hold his fork when he ate, how to address people +who came to the house or to the station. The mother in her was aroused by +Hugh's helplessness and, having no children of her own, she began to take +the tall awkward boy to her heart. She was a small woman and when she stood +in the house scolding the great stupid boy who stared down at her with +his small perplexed eyes, the two made a picture that afforded endless +amusement to her husband, a short fat bald-headed man who went about clad +in blue overalls and a blue cotton shirt. Coming to the back door of his +house, that was within a stone's throw of the station, Henry Shepard stood +with his hand on the door-jamb and watched the woman and the boy. Above +the scolding voice of the woman his own voice arose. "Look out, Hugh," he +called. "Be on the jump, lad! Perk yourself up. She'll be biting you if you +don't go mighty careful in there." + +Hugh got little money for his work at the railroad station but for the +first time in his life he began to fare well. Henry Shepard bought the +boy clothes, and his wife, Sarah, who was a master of the art of cooking, +loaded the table with good things to eat. Hugh ate until both the man and +woman declared he would burst if he did not stop. Then when they were not +looking he went into the station yard and crawling under a bush went to +sleep. The station master came to look for him. He cut a switch from the +bush and began to beat the boy's bare feet. Hugh awoke and was overcome +with confusion. He got to his feet and stood trembling, half afraid he was +to be driven away from his new home. The man and the confused blushing boy +confronted each other for a moment and then the man adopted the method +of his wife and began to scold. He was annoyed at what he thought the +boy's indolence and found a hundred little tasks for him to do. He devoted +himself to finding tasks for Hugh, and when he could think of no new ones, +invented them. "We will have to keep the big lazy fellow on the jump. +That's the secret of things," he said to his wife. + +The boy learned to keep his naturally indolent body moving and his clouded +sleepy mind fixed on definite things. For hours he plodded straight ahead, +doing over and over some appointed task. He forgot the purpose of the job +he had been given to do and did it because it was a job and would keep him +awake. One morning he was told to sweep the station platform and as his +employer had gone away without giving him additional tasks and as he was +afraid that if he sat down he would fall into the odd detached kind of +stupor in which he had spent so large a part of his life, he continued +to sweep for two or three hours. The station platform was built of rough +boards and Hugh's arms were very powerful. The broom he was using began to +go to pieces. Bits of it flew about and after an hour's work the platform +looked more uncleanly than when he began. Sarah Shepard came to the door of +her house and stood watching. She was about to call to him and to scold him +again for his stupidity when a new impulse came to her. She saw the serious +determined look on the boy's long gaunt face and a flash of understanding +came to her. Tears came into her eyes and her arms ached to take the great +boy and hold him tightly against her breast. With all her mother's soul she +wanted to protect Hugh from a world she was sure would treat him always +as a beast of burden and would take no account of what she thought of as +the handicap of his birth. Her morning's work was done and without saying +anything to Hugh, who continued to go up and down the platform laboriously +sweeping, she went out at the front door of the house and to one of +the town stores. There she bought a half dozen books, a geography, an +arithmetic, a speller and two or three readers. She had made up her mind to +become Hugh McVey's school teacher and with characteristic energy did not +put the matter off, but went about it at once. When she got back to her +house and saw the boy still going doggedly up and down the platform, +she did not scold but spoke to him with a new gentleness in her manner. +"Well, my boy, you may put the broom away now and come to the house," she +suggested. "I've made up my mind to take you for my own boy and I don't +want to be ashamed of you. If you're going to live with me I can't have you +growing up to be a lazy good-for-nothing like your father and the other men +in this hole of a place. You'll have to learn things and I suppose I'll +have to be your teacher. + +"Come on over to the house at once," she added sharply, making a quick +motion with her hand to the boy who with the broom in his hands stood +stupidly staring. "When a job is to be done there's no use putting it off. +It's going to be hard work to make an educated man of you, but it has to be +done. We might as well begin on your lessons at once." + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived with Henry Shepard and his wife until he became a grown +man. After Sarah Shepard became his school teacher things began to go +better for him. The scolding of the New England woman, that had but +accentuated his awkwardness and stupidity, came to an end and life in his +adopted home became so quiet and peaceful that the boy thought of himself +as one who had come into a kind of paradise. For a time the two older +people talked of sending him to the town school, but the woman objected. +She had begun to feel so close to Hugh that he seemed a part of her own +flesh and blood and the thought of him, so huge and ungainly, sitting in a +school room with the children of the town, annoyed and irritated her. In +imagination she saw him being laughed at by other boys and could not bear +the thought. She did not like the people of the town and did not want Hugh +to associate with them. + +Sarah Shepard had come from a people and a country quite different in +its aspect from that in which she now lived. Her own people, frugal New +Englanders, had come West in the year after the Civil War to take up +cut-over timber land in the southern end of the state of Michigan. The +daughter was a grown girl when her father and mother took up the westward +journey, and after they arrived at the new home, had worked with her father +in the fields. The land was covered with huge stumps and was difficult to +farm but the New Englanders were accustomed to difficulties and were not +discouraged. The land was deep and rich and the people who had settled upon +it were poor but hopeful. They felt that every day of hard work done in +clearing the land was like laying up treasure against the future. In New +England they had fought against a hard climate and had managed to find a +living on stony unproductive soil. The milder climate and the rich deep +soil of Michigan was, they felt, full of promise. Sarah's father like most +of his neighbors had gone into debt for his land and for tools with which +to clear and work it and every year spent most of his earnings in paying +interest on a mortgage held by a banker in a nearby town, but that did not +discourage him. He whistled as he went about his work and spoke often of a +future of ease and plenty. "In a few years and when the land is cleared +we'll make money hand over fist," he declared. + +When Sarah grew into young womanhood and went about among the young people +in the new country, she heard much talk of mortgages and of the difficulty +of making ends meet, but every one spoke of the hard conditions as +temporary. In every mind the future was bright with promise. Throughout +the whole Mid-American country, in Ohio, Northern Indiana and Illinois, +Wisconsin and Iowa a hopeful spirit prevailed. In every breast hope fought +a successful war with poverty and discouragement. Optimism got into the +blood of the children and later led to the same kind of hopeful courageous +development of the whole western country. The sons and daughters of these +hardy people no doubt had their minds too steadily fixed on the problem +of the paying off of mortgages and getting on in the world, but there was +courage in them. If they, with the frugal and sometimes niggardly New +Englanders from whom they were sprung, have given modern American life a +too material flavor, they have at least created a land in which a less +determinedly materialistic people may in their turn live in comfort. + +In the midst of the little hopeless community of beaten men and yellow +defeated women on the bank of the Mississippi River, the woman who had +become Hugh McVey's second mother and in whose veins flowed the blood of +the pioneers, felt herself undefeated and unbeatable. She and her husband +would, she felt, stay in the Missouri town for a while and then move on +to a larger town and a better position in life. They would move on and up +until the little fat man was a railroad president or a millionaire. It was +the way things were done. She had no doubt of the future. "Do everything +well," she said to her husband, who was perfectly satisfied with his +position in life and had no exalted notions as to his future. "Remember to +make your reports out neatly and clearly. Show them you can do perfectly +the task given you to do, and you will be given a chance at a larger task. +Some day when you least expect it something will happen. You will be called +up into a position of power. We won't be compelled to stay in this hole of +a place very long." + +The ambitious energetic little woman, who had taken the son of the indolent +farm hand to her heart, constantly talked to him of her own people. Every +afternoon when her housework was done she took the boy into the front room +of the house and spent hours laboring with him over his lessons. She worked +upon the problem of rooting the stupidity and dullness out of his mind +as her father had worked at the problem of rooting the stumps out of the +Michigan land. After the lesson for the day had been gone over and over +until Hugh was in a stupor of mental weariness, she put the books aside and +talked to him. With glowing fervor she made for him a picture of her own +youth and the people and places where she had lived. In the picture she +represented the New Englanders of the Michigan farming community as a +strong god-like race, always honest, always frugal, and always pushing +ahead. His own people she utterly condemned. She pitied him for the +blood in his veins. The boy had then and all his life certain physical +difficulties she could never understand. The blood did not flow freely +through his long body. His feet and hands were always cold and there was +for him an almost sensual satisfaction to be had from just lying perfectly +still in the station yard and letting the hot sun beat down on him. + +Sarah Shepard looked upon what she called Hugh's laziness as a thing of +the spirit. "You have got to get over it," she declared. "Look at your own +people--poor white trash--how lazy and shiftless they are. You can't be +like them. It's a sin to be so dreamy and worthless." + +Swept along by the energetic spirit of the woman, Hugh fought to overcome +his inclination to give himself up to vaporous dreams. He became convinced +that his own people were really of inferior stock, that they were to be +kept away from and not to be taken into account. During the first year +after he came to live with the Shepards, he sometimes gave way to a desire +to return to his old lazy life with his father in the shack by the river. +People got off steamboats at the town and took the train to other towns +lying back from the river. He earned a little money by carrying trunks +filled with clothes or traveling men's samples up an incline from the +steamboat landing to the railroad station. Even at fourteen the strength in +his long gaunt body was so great that he could out-lift any man in town, +and he put one of the trunks on his shoulder and walked slowly and stolidly +away with it as a farm horse might have walked along a country road with a +boy of six perched on his back. + +The money earned in this way Hugh for a time gave to his father, and when +the man had become stupid with drink he grew quarrelsome and demanded that +the boy return to live with him. Hugh had not the spirit to refuse and +sometimes did not want to refuse. When neither the station master nor his +wife was about he slipped away and went with his father to sit for a half +day with his back against the wall of the fishing shack, his soul at peace. +In the sunlight he sat and stretched forth his long legs. His small sleepy +eyes stared out over the river. A delicious feeling crept over him and for +the moment he thought of himself as completely happy and made up his mind +that he did not want to return again to the railroad station and to the +woman who was so determined to arouse him and make of him a man of her own +people. + +Hugh looked at his father asleep and snoring in the long grass on the +river bank. An odd feeling of disloyalty crept over him and he became +uncomfortable. The man's mouth was open and he snored lustily. From his +greasy and threadbare clothing arose the smell of fish. Flies gathered +in swarms and alighted on his face. Disgust took possession of Hugh. A +flickering but ever recurring light came into his eyes. With all the +strength of his awakening soul he struggled against the desire to give way +to the inclination to stretch himself out beside the man and sleep. The +words of the New England woman, who was, he knew, striving to lift him out +of slothfulness and ugliness into some brighter and better way of life, +echoed dimly in his mind. When he arose and went back along the street +to the station master's house and when the woman there looked at him +reproachfully and muttered words about the poor white trash of the town, he +was ashamed and looked at the floor. + +Hugh began to hate his own father and his own people. He connected the man +who had bred him with the dreaded inclination toward sloth in himself. +When the farmhand came to the station and demanded the money he had earned +by carrying trunks, he turned away and went across a dusty road to the +Shepard's house. After a year or two he paid no more attention to the +dissolute farmhand who came occasionally to the station to mutter and swear +at him; and, when he had earned a little money, gave it to the woman to +keep for him. "Well," he said, speaking slowly and with the hesitating +drawl characteristic of his people, "if you give me time I'll learn. I want +to be what you want me to be. If you stick to me I'll try to make a man of +myself." + + * * * * * + +Hugh McVey lived in the Missouri town under the tutelage of Sarah +Shepard until he was nineteen years old. Then the station master gave up +railroading and went back to Michigan. Sarah Shepard's father had died +after having cleared one hundred and twenty acres of the cut-over timber +land and it had been left to her. The dream that had for years lurked in +the back of the little woman's mind and in which she saw bald-headed, +good-natured Henry Shepard become a power in the railroad world had begun +to fade. In newspapers and magazines she read constantly of other men who, +starting from a humble position in the railroad service, soon became rich +and powerful, but nothing of the kind seemed likely to happen to her +husband. Under her watchful eye he did his work well and carefully but +nothing came of it. Officials of the railroad sometimes passed through +the town riding in private cars hitched to the end of one of the through +trains, but the trains did not stop and the officials did not alight and, +calling Henry out of the station, reward his faithfulness by piling new +responsibilities upon him, as railroad officials did in such cases in the +stories she read. When her father died and she saw a chance to again turn +her face eastward and to live again among her own people, she told her +husband to resign his position with the air of one accepting an undeserved +defeat. The station master managed to get Hugh appointed in his place, and +the two people went away one gray morning in October, leaving the tall +ungainly young man in charge of affairs. He had books to keep, freight +waybills to make out, messages to receive, dozens of definite things to do. +Early in the morning before the train that was to take her away, came to +the station, Sarah Shepard called the young man to her and repeated the +instructions she had so often given her husband. "Do everything neatly and +carefully," she said. "Show yourself worthy of the trust that has been +given you." + +The New England woman wanted to assure the boy, as she had so often assured +her husband, that if he would but work hard and faithfully promotion would +inevitably come; but in the face of the fact that Henry Shepard had for +years done without criticism the work Hugh was to do and had received +neither praise nor blame from those above him, she found it impossible to +say the words that arose to her lips. The woman and the son of the people +among whom she had lived for five years and had so often condemned, stood +beside each other in embarrassed silence. Stripped of her assurance as to +the purpose of life and unable to repeat her accustomed formula, Sarah +Shepard had nothing to say. Hugh's tall figure, leaning against the post +that supported the roof of the front porch of the little house where she +had taught him his lessons day after day, seemed to her suddenly old and +she thought his long solemn face suggested a wisdom older and more mature +than her own. An odd revulsion of feeling swept over her. For the moment +she began to doubt the advisability of trying to be smart and to get on in +life. If Hugh had been somewhat smaller of frame so that her mind could +have taken hold of the fact of his youth and immaturity, she would no doubt +have taken him into her arms and said words regarding her doubts. Instead +she also became silent and the minutes slipped away as the two people stood +before each other and stared at the floor of the porch. When the train on +which she was to leave blew a warning whistle, and Henry Shepard called to +her from the station platform, she put a hand on the lapel of Hugh's coat +and drawing his face down, for the first time kissed him on the cheek. +Tears came into her eyes and into the eyes of the young man. When he +stepped across the porch to get her bag Hugh stumbled awkwardly against a +chair. "Well, you do the best you can here," Sarah Shepard said quickly and +then out of long habit and half unconsciously did repeat her formula. "Do +little things well and big opportunities are bound to come," she declared +as she walked briskly along beside Hugh across the narrow road and to the +station and the train that was to bear her away. + +After the departure of Sarah and Henry Shepard Hugh continued to struggle +with his inclination to give way to dreams. It seemed to him a struggle +it was necessary to win in order that he might show his respect and +appreciation of the woman who had spent so many long hours laboring with +him. Although, under her tutelage, he had received a better education than +any other young man of the river town, he had lost none of his physical +desire to sit in the sun and do nothing. When he worked, every task had +to be consciously carried on from minute to minute. After the woman left, +there were days when he sat in the chair in the telegraph office and fought +a desperate battle with himself. A queer determined light shone in his +small gray eyes. He arose from the chair and walked up and down the station +platform. Each time as he lifted one of his long feet and set it slowly +down a special little effort had to be made. To move about at all was a +painful performance, something he did not want to do. All physical acts +were to him dull but necessary parts of his training for a vague and +glorious future that was to come to him some day in a brighter and more +beautiful land that lay in the direction thought of rather indefinitely as +the East. "If I do not move and keep moving I'll become like father, like +all of the people about here," Hugh said to himself. He thought of the man +who had bred him and whom he occasionally saw drifting aimlessly along +Main Street or sleeping away a drunken stupor on the river bank. He was +disgusted with him and had come to share the opinion the station master's +wife had always held concerning the people of the Missouri village. +"They're a lot of miserable lazy louts," she had declared a thousand times, +and Hugh, agreed with her, but sometimes wondered if in the end he might +not also become a lazy lout. That possibility he knew was in him and for +the sake of the woman as well as for his own sake he was determined it +should not be so. + +The truth is that the people of Mudcat Landing were totally unlike any of +the people Sarah Shepard had ever known and unlike the people Hugh was to +know during his mature life. He who had come from a people not smart was to +live among smart energetic men and women and be called a big man by them +without in the least understanding what they were talking about. + +Practically all of the people of Hugh's home town were of Southern origin. +Living originally in a land where all physical labor was performed by +slaves, they had come to have a deep aversion to physical labor. In the +South their fathers, having no money to buy slaves of their own and being +unwilling to compete with slave labor, had tried to live without labor. For +the most part they lived in the mountains and the hill country of Kentucky +and Tennessee, on land too poor and unproductive to be thought worth +cultivating by their rich slave-owning neighbors of the valleys and plains. +Their food was meager and of an enervating sameness and their bodies +degenerate. Children grew up long and gaunt and yellow like badly nourished +plants. Vague indefinite hungers took hold of them and they gave themselves +over to dreams. The more energetic among them, sensing dimly the unfairness +of their position in life, became vicious and dangerous. Feuds started +among them and they killed each other to express their hatred of life. +When, in the years preceding the Civil War, a few of them pushed north +along the rivers and settled in Southern Indiana and Illinois and in +Eastern Missouri and Arkansas, they seemed to have exhausted their energy +in making the voyage and slipped quickly back into their old slothful way +of life. Their impulse to emigrate did not carry them far and but a few of +them ever reached the rich corn lands of central Indiana, Illinois or Iowa +or the equally rich land back from the river in Missouri or Arkansas. In +Southern Indiana and Illinois they were merged into the life about them and +with the infusion of new blood they a little awoke. They have tempered the +quality of the peoples of those regions, made them perhaps less harshly +energetic than their forefathers, the pioneers. In many of the Missouri and +Arkansas river towns they have changed but little. A visitor to these parts +may see them there to-day, long, gaunt, and lazy, sleeping their lives away +and awakening out of their stupor only at long intervals and at the call of +hunger. + +As for Hugh McVey, he stayed in his home town and among his own people for +a year after the departure of the man and woman who had been father and +mother to him, and then he also departed. All through the year he worked +constantly to cure himself of the curse of indolence. When he awoke in the +morning he did not dare lie in bed for a moment for fear indolence would +overcome him and he would not be able to arise at all. Getting out of bed +at once he dressed and went to the station. During the day there was not +much work to be done and he walked for hours up and down the station +platform. When he sat down he at once took up a book and put his mind to +work. When the pages of the book became indistinct before his eyes and he +felt within him the inclination to drift off into dreams, he again arose +and walked up and down the platform. Having accepted the New England +woman's opinion of his own people and not wanting to associate with them, +his life became utterly lonely and his loneliness also drove him to labor. + +Something happened to him. Although his body would not and never did become +active, his mind began suddenly to work with feverish eagerness. The vague +thoughts and feelings that had always been a part of him but that had been +indefinite, ill-defined things, like clouds floating far away in a hazy +sky, began to grow definite. In the evening after his work was done and he +had locked the station for the night, he did not go to the town hotel where +he had taken a room and where he ate his meals, but wandered about town and +along the road that ran south beside the great mysterious river. A hundred +new and definite desires and hungers awoke in him. He began to want to talk +with people, to know men and most of all to know women, but the disgust for +his fellows in the town, engendered in him by Sarah Shepard's words and +most of all by the things in his nature that were like their natures, made +him draw back. When in the fall at the end of the year after the Shepards +had left and he began living alone, his father was killed in a senseless +quarrel with a drunken river man over the ownership of a dog, a sudden, and +what seemed to him at the moment heroic resolution came to him. He went +early one morning to one of the town's two saloon keepers, a man who had +been his father's' nearest approach to a friend and companion, and gave +him money to bury the dead man. Then he wired to the headquarters of the +railroad company telling them to send a man to Mudcat Landing to take his +place. On the afternoon of the day on which his father was buried, he +bought himself a handbag and packed his few belongings. Then he sat down +alone on the steps of the railroad station to wait for the evening train +that would bring the man who was to replace him and that would at the same +time take him away. He did not know where he intended to go, but knew that +he wanted to push out into a new land and get among new people. He thought +he would go east and north. He remembered the long summer evenings in the +river town when the station master slept and his wife talked. The boy who +listened had wanted to sleep also, but with the eyes of Sarah Shepard fixed +on him, had not dared to do so. The woman had talked of a land dotted with +towns where the houses were all painted in bright colors, where young girls +dressed in white dresses went about in the evening, walking under trees +beside streets paved with bricks, where there was no dust or mud, where +stores were gay bright places filled with beautiful wares that the people +had money to buy in abundance and where every one was alive and doing +things worth while and none was slothful and lazy. The boy who had now +become a man wanted to go to such a place. His work in the railroad station +had given him some idea of the geography of the country and, although he +could not have told whether the woman who had talked so enticingly had in +mind her childhood in New England or her girlhood in Michigan, he knew in +a general way that to reach the land and the people who were to show him +by their lives the better way to form his own life, he must go east. He +decided that the further east he went the more beautiful life would become, +and that he had better not try going too far in the beginning. "I'll go +into the northern part of Indiana or Ohio," he told himself. "There must be +beautiful towns in those places." + +Hugh was boyishly eager to get on his way and to become at once a part of +the life in a new place. The gradual awakening of his mind had given him +courage, and he thought of himself as armed and ready for association with +men. He wanted to become acquainted with and be the friend of people whose +lives were beautifully lived and who were themselves beautiful and full of +significance. As he sat on the steps of the railroad station in the poor +little Missouri town with his bag beside him, and thought of all the things +he wanted to do in life, his mind became so eager and restless that some of +its restlessness was transmitted to his body. For perhaps the first time +in his life he arose without conscious effort and walked up and down the +station platform out of an excess of energy. He thought he could not bear +to wait until the train came and brought the man who was to take his place. +"Well, I'm going away, I'm going away to be a man among men," he said to +himself over and over. The saying became a kind of refrain and he said it +unconsciously. As he repeated the words his heart beat high in anticipation +of the future he thought lay before him. + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Hugh McVey left the town of Mudcat Landing in early September of the year +eighteen eighty-six. He was then twenty years old and was six feet and four +inches tall. The whole upper part of his body was immensely strong but his +long legs were ungainly and lifeless. He secured a pass from the railroad +company that had employed him, and rode north along the river in the night +train until he came to a large town named Burlington in the State of Iowa. +There a bridge went over the river, and the railroad tracks joined those of +a trunk line and ran eastward toward Chicago; but Hugh did not continue his +journey on that night. Getting off the train he went to a nearby hotel and +took a room for the night. + +It was a cool clear evening and Hugh was restless. The town of Burlington, +a prosperous place in the midst of a rich farming country, overwhelmed him +with its stir and bustle. For the first time he saw brick-paved streets and +streets lighted with lamps. Although it was nearly ten o'clock at night +when he arrived, people still walked about in the streets and many stores +were open. + +The hotel where he had taken a room faced the railroad tracks and stood at +the corner of a brightly lighted street. When he had been shown to his room +Hugh sat for a half hour by an open window, and then as he could not sleep, +decided to go for a walk. For a time he walked in the streets where the +people stood about before the doors of the stores but, as his tall figure +attracted attention and he felt people staring at him, he went presently +into a side street. + +In a few minutes he became utterly lost. He went through what seemed to +him miles of streets lined with frame and brick houses, and occasionally +passed people, but was too timid and embarrassed to ask his way. The street +climbed upward and after a time he got into open country and followed a +road that ran along a cliff overlooking the Mississippi River. The night +was clear and the sky brilliant with stars. In the open, away from the +multitude of houses, he no longer felt awkward and afraid, and went +cheerfully along. After a time he stopped and stood facing the river. +Standing on a high cliff and with a grove of trees at his back, the stars +seemed to have all gathered in the eastern sky. Below him the water of the +river reflected the stars. They seemed to be making a pathway for him into +the East. + +The tall Missouri countryman sat down on a log near the edge of the cliff +and tried to see the water in the river below. Nothing was visible but a +bed of stars that danced and twinkled in the darkness. He had made his way +to a place far above the railroad bridge, but presently a through passenger +train from the West passed over it and the lights of the train looked also +like stars, stars that moved and beckoned and that seemed to fly like +flocks of birds out of the West into the East. + +For several hours Hugh sat on the log in the darkness. He decided that it +was hopeless for him to find his way back to the hotel, and was glad of the +excuse for staying abroad. His body for the first time in his life felt +light and strong and his mind was feverishly awake. A buggy in which sat a +young man and woman went along the road at his back, and after the voices +had died away silence came, broken only at long intervals during the hours +when he sat thinking of his future by the barking of a dog in some distant +house or the churning of the paddle-wheels of a passing river boat. + +All of the early formative years of Hugh McVey's life had been spent within +sound of the lapping of the waters of the Mississippi River. He had seen it +in the hot summer when the water receded and the mud lay baked and cracked +along the edge of the water; in the spring when the floods raged and the +water went whirling past, bearing tree logs and even parts of houses; in +the winter when the water looked deathly cold and ice floated past; and in +the fall when it was quiet and still and lovely, and seemed to have sucked +an almost human quality of warmth out of the red trees that lined its +shores. Hugh had spent hours and days sitting or lying in the grass beside +the river. The fishing shack in which he had lived with his father until he +was fourteen years old was within a half dozen long strides of the river's +edge, and the boy had often been left there alone for a week at a time. +When his father had gone for a trip on a lumber raft or to work for a few +days on some farm in the country back from the river, the boy, left often +without money and with but a few loaves of bread, went fishing when he was +hungry and when he was not did nothing but idle the days away in the grass +on the river bank. Boys from the town came sometimes to spend an hour with +him, but in their presence he was embarrassed and a little annoyed. He +wanted to be left alone with his dreams. One of the boys, a sickly, pale, +undeveloped lad of ten, often stayed with him through an entire summer +afternoon. He was the son of a merchant in the town and grew quickly tired +when he tried to follow other boys about. On the river bank he lay beside +Hugh in silence. The two got into Hugh's boat and went fishing and the +merchant's son grew animated and talked. He taught Hugh to write his own +name and to read a few words. The shyness that kept them apart had begun to +break down, when the merchant's son caught some childhood disease and died. + +In the darkness above the cliff that night in Burlington Hugh remembered +things concerning his boyhood that had not come back to his mind in years. +The very thoughts that had passed through his mind during those long days +of idling on the river bank came streaming back. + +After his fourteenth year when he went to work at the railroad station Hugh +had stayed away from the river. With his work at the station, and in the +garden back of Sarah Shepard's house, and the lessons in the afternoons, +he had little idle time. On Sundays however things were different. Sarah +Shepard did not go to church after she came to Mudcat Landing, but she +would have no work done on Sundays. On Sunday afternoons in the summer she +and her husband sat in chairs beneath a tree beside the house and went to +sleep. Hugh got into the habit of going off by himself. He wanted to sleep +also, but did not dare. He went along the river bank by the road that ran +south from the town, and when he had followed it two or three miles, turned +into a grove of trees and lay down in the shade. + +The long summer Sunday afternoons had been delightful times for Hugh, so +delightful that he finally gave them up, fearing they might lead him to +take up again his old sleepy way of life. Now as he sat in the darkness +above the same river he had gazed on through the long Sunday afternoons, a +spasm of something like loneliness swept over him. For the first time he +thought about leaving the river country and going into a new land with a +keen feeling of regret. + +On the Sunday afternoons in the woods south of Mudcat Landing Hugh had lain +perfectly still in the grass for hours. The smell of dead fish that had +always been present about the shack where he spent his boyhood, was gone +and there were no swarms of flies. Above his head a breeze played through +the branches of the trees, and insects sang in the grass. Everything about +him was clean. A lovely stillness pervaded the river and the woods. He lay +on his belly and gazed down over the river out of sleep-heavy eyes into +hazy distances. Half formed thoughts passed like visions through his mind. +He dreamed, but his dreams were unformed and vaporous. For hours the half +dead, half alive state into which he had got, persisted. He did not sleep +but lay in a land between sleeping and waking. Pictures formed in his +mind. The clouds that floated in the sky above the river took on strange, +grotesque shapes. They began to move. One of the clouds separated itself +from the others. It moved swiftly away into the dim distance and then +returned. It became a half human thing and seemed to be marshaling the +other clouds. Under its influence they became agitated and moved restlessly +about. Out of the body of the most active of the clouds long vaporous arms +were extended. They pulled and hauled at the other clouds making them also +restless and agitated. + +Hugh's mind, as he sat in the darkness on the cliff above the river that +night in Burlington, was deeply stirred. Again he was a boy lying in the +woods above his river, and the visions that had come to him there returned +with startling clearness. He got off the log and lying in the wet grass, +closed his eyes. His body became warm. + +Hugh thought his mind had gone out of his body and up into the sky to join +the clouds and the stars, to play with them. From the sky he thought he +looked down on the earth and saw rolling fields, hills and forests. He had +no part in the lives of the men and women of the earth, but was torn away +from them, left to stand by himself. From his place in the sky above the +earth he saw the great river going majestically along. For a time it was +quiet and contemplative as the sky had been when he was a boy down below +lying on his belly in the wood. He saw men pass in boats and could hear +their voices dimly. A great quiet prevailed and he looked abroad beyond the +wide expanse of the river and saw fields and towns. They were all hushed +and still. An air of waiting hung over them. And then the river was whipped +into action by some strange unknown force, something that had come out of a +distant place, out of the place to which the cloud had gone and from which +it had returned to stir and agitate the other clouds. + +The river now went tearing along. It overflowed its banks and swept over +the land, uprooting trees and forests and towns. The white faces of drowned +men and children, borne along by the flood, looked up into the mind's eye +of the man Hugh, who, in the moment of his setting out into the definite +world of struggle and defeat, had let himself slip back into the vaporous +dreams of his boyhood. + +As he lay in the wet grass in the darkness on the cliff Hugh tried to force +his way back to consciousness, but for a long time was unsuccessful. He +rolled and writhed about and his lips muttered words. It was useless. His +mind also was swept away. The clouds of which he felt himself a part flew +across the face of the sky. They blotted out the sun from the earth, and +darkness descended on the land, on the troubled towns, on the hills that +were torn open, on the forests that were destroyed, on the peace and quiet +of all places. In the country stretching away from the river where all had +been peace and quiet, all was now agitation and unrest. Houses were +destroyed and instantly rebuilt. People gathered in whirling crowds. + +The dreaming man felt himself a part of something significant and terrible +that was happening to the earth and to the peoples of the earth. Again +he struggled to awake, to force himself back out of the dream world into +consciousness. When he did awake, day was breaking and he sat on the very +edge of the cliff that looked down upon the Mississippi River, gray now in +the dim morning light. + + * * * * * + +The towns in which Hugh lived during the first three years after he began +his eastward journey were all small places containing a few hundred people, +and were scattered through Illinois, Indiana and western Ohio. All of +the people among whom he worked and lived during that time were farmers +and laborers. In the spring of the first year of his wandering he passed +through the city of Chicago and spent two hours there, going in and out at +the same railroad station. + +He was not tempted to become a city man. The huge commercial city at the +foot of Lake Michigan, because of its commanding position in the very +center of a vast farming empire, had already become gigantic. He never +forgot the two hours he spent standing in the station in the heart of the +city and walking in the street adjoining the station. It was evening when +he came into the roaring, clanging place. On the long wide plains west of +the city he saw farmers at work with their spring plowing as the train went +flying along. Presently the farms grew small and the whole prairie dotted +with towns. In these the train did not stop but ran into a crowded network +of streets filled with multitudes of people. When he got into the big dark +station Hugh saw thousands of people rushing about like disturbed insects. +Unnumbered thousands of people were going out of the city at the end of +their day of work and trains waited to take them to towns on the prairies. +They came in droves, hurrying along like distraught cattle, over a bridge +and into the station. The in-bound crowds that had alighted from through +trains coming from cities of the East and West climbed up a stairway to the +street, and those that were out-bound tried to descend by the same stairway +and at the same time. The result was a whirling churning mass of humanity. +Every one pushed and crowded his way along. Men swore, women grew angry, +and children cried. Near the doorway that opened into the street a long +line of cab drivers shouted and roared. + +Hugh looked at the people who were whirled along past him, and shivered +with the nameless fear of multitudes, common to country boys in the city. +When the rush of people had a little subsided he went out of the station +and, walking across a narrow street, stood by a brick store building. +Presently the rush of people began again, and again men, women, and boys +came hurrying across the bridge and ran wildly in at the doorway leading +into the station. They came in waves as water washes along a beach during +a storm. Hugh had a feeling that if he were by some chance to get caught +in the crowd he would be swept away into some unknown and terrible place. +Waiting until the rush had a little subsided, he went across the street and +on to the bridge to look at the river that flowed past the station. It was +narrow and filled with ships, and the water looked gray and dirty. A pall +of black smoke covered the sky. From all sides of him and even in the air +above his head a great clatter and roar of bells and whistles went on. + +With the air of a child venturing into a dark forest Hugh went a little +way into one of the streets that led westward from the station. Again he +stopped and stood by a building. Near at hand a group of young city roughs +stood smoking and talking before a saloon. Out of a nearby building came a +young girl who approached and spoke to one of them. The man began to swear +furiously. "You tell her I'll come in there in a minute and smash her +face," he said, and, paying no more attention to the girl, turned to stare +at Hugh. All of the young men lounging before the saloon turned to stare at +the tall countryman. They began to laugh and one of them walked quickly +toward him. + +Hugh ran along the street and into the station followed by the shouts of +the young roughs. He did not venture out again, and when his train was +ready, got aboard and went gladly out of the great complex dwelling-place +of modern Americans. + +Hugh went from town to town always working his way eastward, always seeking +the place where happiness was to come to him and where he was to achieve +companionship with men and women. He cut fence posts in a forest on a large +farm in Indiana, worked in the fields, and in one place was a section hand +on the railroad. + +On a farm in Indiana, some forty miles east of Indianapolis, he was for +the first time powerfully touched by the presence of a woman. She was the +daughter of the farmer who was Hugh's employer, and was an alert, handsome +woman of twenty-four who had been a school teacher but had given up the +work because she was about to be married. Hugh thought the man who was to +marry her the most fortunate being in the world. He lived in Indianapolis +and came by train to spend the week-ends at the farm. The woman prepared +for his coming by putting on a white dress and fastening a rose in her +hair. The two people walked about in an orchard beside the house or went +for a ride along the country roads. The young man, who, Hugh had been told, +worked in a bank, wore stiff white collars, a black suit and a black derby +hat. + +On the farm Hugh worked in the field with the farmer and ate at table with +his family, but did not get acquainted with them. On Sunday when the young +man came he took the day off and went into a nearby town. The courtship +became a matter very close to him and he lived through the excitement of +the weekly visits as though he had been one of the principals. The daughter +of the house, sensing the fact that the silent farm hand was stirred by +her presence, became interested in him. Sometimes in the evening as he sat +on a little porch before the house, she came to join him, and sat looking +at him with a peculiarly detached and interested air. She tried to make +talk, but Hugh answered all her advances so briefly and with such a half +frightened manner that she gave up the attempt. One Saturday evening when +her sweetheart had come she took him for a ride in the family carriage, and +Hugh concealed himself in the hay loft of the barn to wait for their +return. + +Hugh had never seen or heard a man express in any way his affection for a +woman. It seemed to him a terrifically heroic thing to do and he hoped by +concealing himself in the barn to see it done. It was a bright moonlight +night and he waited until nearly eleven o'clock before the lovers returned. +In the hayloft there was an opening high up under the roof. Because of his +great height he could reach and pull himself up, and when he had done so, +found a footing on one of the beams that formed the framework of the barn. +The lovers stood unhitching the horse in the barnyard below. When the city +man had led the horse into the stable he hurried quickly out again and went +with the farmer's daughter along a path toward the house. The two people +laughed and pulled at each other like children. They grew silent and when +they had come near the house, stopped by a tree to embrace. Hugh saw the +man take the woman into his arms and hold her tightly against his body. +He was so excited that he nearly fell off the beam. His imagination was +inflamed and he tried to picture himself in the position of the young +city man. His fingers gripped the boards to which he clung and his body +trembled. The two figures standing in the dim light by the tree became +one. For a long time they clung tightly to each other and then drew apart. +They went into the house and Hugh climbed down from his place on the beam +and lay in the hay. His body shook as with a chill and he was half ill of +jealousy, anger, and an overpowering sense of defeat. It did not seem to +him at the moment that it was worth while for him to go further east or to +try to find a place where he would be able to mingle freely with men and +women, or where such a wonderful thing as had happened to the man in the +barnyard below might happen to him. + +Hugh spent the night in the hayloft and at daylight crept out and went into +a nearby town. He returned to the farmhouse late on Monday when he was sure +the city man had gone away. In spite of the protest of the farmer he packed +his clothes at once and declared his intention of leaving. He did not wait +for the evening meal but hurried out of the house. When he got into the +road and had started to walk away, he looked back and saw the daughter of +the house standing at an open door and looking at him. Shame for what he +had done on the night before swept over him. For a moment he stared at +the woman who, with an intense, interested air stared back at him, and +then putting down his head he hurried away. The woman watched him out of +sight and later, when her father stormed about the house, blaming Hugh +for leaving so suddenly and declaring the tall Missourian was no doubt a +drunkard who wanted to go off on a drunk, she had nothing to say. In her +own heart she knew what was the matter with her father's farm hand and was +sorry he had gone before she had more completely exercised her power over +him. + + * * * * * + +None of the towns Hugh visited during his three years of wandering +approached realization of the sort of life Sarah Shepard had talked to him +about. They were all very much alike. There was a main street with a dozen +stores on each side, a blacksmith shop, and perhaps an elevator for the +storage of grain. All day the town was deserted, but in the evening the +citizens gathered on Main Street. On the sidewalks before the stores young +farm hands and clerks sat on store boxes or on the curbing. They did not +pay any attention to Hugh who, when he went to stand near them, remained +silent and kept himself in the background. The farm hands talked of their +work and boasted of the number of bushels of corn they could pick in a day, +or of their skill in plowing. The clerks were intent upon playing practical +jokes which pleased the farm hands immensely. While one of them talked +loudly of his skill in his work a clerk crept out at the door of one of the +stores and approached him. He held a pin in his hand and with it jabbed +the talker in the back. The crowd yelled and shouted with delight. If the +victim became angry a quarrel started, but this did not often happen. Other +men came to join the party and the joke was told to them. "Well, you should +have seen the look on his face. I thought I would die," one of the +bystanders declared. + +Hugh got a job with a carpenter who specialized in the building of barns +and stayed with him all through one fall. Later he went to work as a +section hand on a railroad. Nothing happened to him. He was like one +compelled to walk through life with a bandage over his eyes. On all sides +of him, in the towns and on the farms, an undercurrent of life went on that +did not touch him. In even the smallest of the towns, inhabited only by +farm laborers, a quaint interesting civilization was being developed. Men +worked hard but were much in the open air and had time to think. Their +minds reached out toward the solution of the mystery of existence. The +schoolmaster and the country lawyer read Tom Paine's "Age of Reason" +and Bellamy's "Looking Backward." They discussed these books with their +fellows. There was a feeling, ill expressed, that America had something +real and spiritual to offer to the rest of the world. Workmen talked to +each other of the new tricks of their trades, and after hours of discussion +of some new way to cultivate corn, shape a horseshoe or build a barn, +spoke of God and his intent concerning man. Long drawn out discussions of +religious beliefs and the political destiny of America were carried on. + +And across the background of these discussions ran tales of action in a +sphere outside the little world in which the inhabitants of the towns +lived. Men who had been in the Civil War and who had climbed fighting over +hills and in the terror of defeat had swum wide rivers, told the tale of +their adventures. + +In the evening, after his day of work in the field or on the railroad with +the section hands, Hugh did not know what to do with himself. That he +did not go to bed immediately after the evening meal was due to the fact +that he looked upon his tendency to sleep and to dream as an enemy to his +development; and a peculiarly persistent determination to make something +alive and worth while out of himself--the result of the five years of +constant talking on the subject by the New England woman--had taken +possession of him. "I'll find the right place and the right people and then +I'll begin," he continually said to himself. + +And then, worn out with weariness and loneliness, he went to bed in one of +the little hotels or boarding houses where he lived during those years, +and his dreams returned. The dream that had come that night as he lay on +the cliff above the Mississippi River near the town of Burlington, came +back time after time. He sat upright in bed in the darkness of his room +and after he had driven the cloudy, vague sensation out of his brain, was +afraid to go to sleep again. He did not want to disturb the people of the +house and so got up and dressed and without putting on his shoes walked up +and down in the room. Sometimes the room he occupied had a low ceiling and +he was compelled to stoop. He crept out of the house carrying his shoes in +his hand and sat down on the sidewalk to put them on. In all the towns he +visited, people saw him walking alone through the streets late at night +or in the early hours of the morning. Whispers concerning the matter ran +about. The story of what was spoken of as his queerness came to the men +with whom he worked, and they found themselves unable to talk freely and +naturally in his presence. At the noon hour when the men ate the lunch they +had carried to work, when the boss was gone and it was customary among the +workers to talk of their own affairs, they went off by themselves. Hugh +followed them about. They went to sit under a tree, and when Hugh came to +stand nearby, they became silent or the more vulgar and shallow among them +began to show off. While he worked with a half dozen other men as a section +hand on the railroad, two men did all the talking. Whenever the boss went +away an old man who had a reputation as a wit told stories concerning his +relations with women. A young man with red hair took the cue from him. The +two men talked loudly and kept looking at Hugh. The younger of the two +wits turned to another workman who had a weak, timid face. "Well, you," he +cried, "what about your old woman? What about her? Who is the father of +your son? Do you dare tell?" + +In the towns Hugh walked about in the evening and tried always to keep his +mind fixed on definite things. He felt that humanity was for some unknown +reason drawing itself away from him, and his mind turned back to the figure +of Sarah Shepard. He remembered that she had never been without things +to do. She scrubbed her kitchen floor and prepared food for cooking; +she washed, ironed, kneaded dough for bread, and mended clothes. In the +evening, when she made the boy read to her out of one of the school books +or do sums on a slate, she kept her hands busy knitting socks for him or +for her husband. Except when something had crossed her so that she scolded +and her face grew red, she was always cheerful. When the boy had nothing to +do at the station and had been sent by the station master to work about the +house, to draw water from the cistern for a family washing, or pull weeds +in the garden, he heard the woman singing as she went about the doing of +her innumerable petty tasks. Hugh decided that he also must do small tasks, +fix his mind upon definite things. In the town where he was employed as +a section hand, the cloud dream in which the world became a whirling, +agitated center of disaster came to him almost every night. Winter came on +and he walked through the streets at night in the darkness and through the +deep snow. He was almost frozen; but as the whole lower part of his body +was habitually cold he did not much mind the added discomfort, and so great +was the reserve of strength in his big frame that the loss of sleep did not +affect his ability to labor all day without effort. + +Hugh went into one of the residence streets of the town and counted the +pickets in the fences before the houses. He returned to the hotel and made +a calculation as to the number of pickets in all the fences in town. Then +he got a rule at the hardware store and carefully measured the pickets. He +tried to estimate the number of pickets that could be cut out of certain +sized trees and that gave his mind another opening. He counted the number +of trees in every street in town. He learned to tell at a glance and with +relative accuracy how much lumber could be cut out of a tree. He built +imaginary houses with lumber cut from the trees that lined the streets. He +even tried to figure out a way to utilize the small limbs cut from the tops +of the trees, and one Sunday went into the wood back of the town and cut a +great armful of twigs, which he carried to his room and later with great +patience wove into the form of a basket. + + + + +BOOK TWO + + +CHAPTER III + + +Bidwell, Ohio, was an old town as the ages of towns go in the Central West, +long before Hugh McVey, in his search for a place where he could penetrate +the wall that shut him off from humanity, went there to live and to try +to work out his problem. It is a busy manufacturing town now and has a +population of nearly a hundred thousand people; but the time for the +telling of the story of its sudden and surprising growth has not yet come. + +From the beginning Bidwell has been a prosperous place. The town lies in +the valley of a deep, rapid-flowing river that spreads out just above the +town, becomes for the time wide and shallow, and goes singing swiftly along +over stones. South of the town the river not only spreads out, but the +hills recede. A wide flat valley stretches away to the north. In the days +before the factories came the land immediately about town was cut up into +small farms devoted to fruit and berry raising, and beyond the area of +small farms lay larger tracts that were immensely productive and that +raised huge crops of wheat, corn, and cabbage. + +When Hugh was a boy sleeping away his days in the grass beside his father's +fishing shack by the Mississippi River, Bidwell had already emerged out of +the hardships of pioneer days. On the farms that lay in the wide valley to +the north the timber had been cut away and the stumps had all been rooted +out of the ground by a generation of men that had passed. The soil was easy +to cultivate and had lost little of its virgin fertility. Two railroads, +the Lake Shore and Michigan Central--later a part of the great New York +Central System--and a less important coal-carrying road, called the +Wheeling and Lake Erie, ran through the town. Twenty-five hundred people +lived then in Bidwell. They were for the most part descendants of the +pioneers who had come into the country by boat through the Great Lakes or +by wagon roads over the mountains from the States of New York and +Pennsylvania. + +The town stood on a sloping incline running up from the river, and the Lake +Shore and Michigan Central Railroad had its station on the river bank at +the foot of Main Street. The Wheeling Station was a mile away to the north. +It was to be reached by going over a bridge and along a piked road that +even then had begun to take on the semblance of a street. A dozen houses +had been built facing Turner's Pike and between these were berry fields and +an occasional orchard planted to cherry, peach or apple trees. A hard path +went down to the distant station beside the road, and in the evening this +path, wandering along under the branches of the fruit trees that extended +out over the farm fences, was a favorite walking place for lovers. + +The small farms lying close about the town of Bidwell raised berries that +brought top prices in the two cities, Cleveland and Pittsburgh, reached by +its two railroads, and all of the people of the town who were not engaged +in one of the trades--in shoe making, carpentry, horse shoeing, house +painting or the like--or who did not belong to the small merchant and +professional classes, worked in summer on the land. On summer mornings, +men, women and children went into the fields. In the early spring when +planting went on and all through late May, June and early July when berries +and fruit began to ripen, every one was rushed with work and the streets +of the town were deserted. Every one went to the fields. Great hay wagons +loaded with children, laughing girls, and sedate women set out from Main +Street at dawn. Beside them walked tall boys, who pelted the girls with +green apples and cherries from the trees along the road, and men who went +along behind smoking their morning pipes and talking of the prevailing +prices of the products of their fields. In the town after they had gone a +Sabbath quiet prevailed. The merchants and clerks loitered in the shade of +the awnings before the doors of the stores, and only their wives and the +wives of the two or three rich men in town came to buy and to disturb their +discussions of horse racing, politics and religion. + +In the evening when the wagons came home, Bidwell awoke. The tired berry +pickers walked home from the fields in the dust of the roads swinging their +dinner pails. The wagons creaked at their heels, piled high with boxes of +berries ready for shipment. In the stores after the evening meal crowds +gathered. Old men lit their pipes and sat gossiping along the curbing at +the edge of the sidewalks on Main Street; women with baskets on their arms +did the marketing for the next day's living; the young men put on stiff +white collars and their Sunday clothes, and girls, who all day had been +crawling over the fields between the rows of berries or pushing their way +among the tangled masses of raspberry bushes, put on white dresses and +walked up and down before the men. Friendships begun between boys and girls +in the fields ripened into love. Couples walked along residence streets +under the trees and talked with subdued voices. They became silent and +embarrassed. The bolder ones kissed. The end of the berry picking season +brought each year a new outbreak of marriages to the town of Bidwell. + +In all the towns of mid-western America it was a time of waiting. The +country having been cleared and the Indians driven away into a vast distant +place spoken of vaguely as the West, the Civil War having been fought and +won, and there being no great national problems that touched closely their +lives, the minds of men were turned in upon themselves. The soul and its +destiny was spoken of openly on the streets. Robert Ingersoll came to +Bidwell to speak in Terry's Hall, and after he had gone the question of +the divinity of Christ for months occupied the minds of the citizens. The +ministers preached sermons on the subject and in the evening it was talked +about in the stores. Every one had something to say. Even Charley Mook, who +dug ditches, who stuttered so that not a half dozen people in town could +understand him, expressed his opinion. + +In all the great Mississippi Valley each town came to have a character of +its own, and the people who lived in the towns were to each other like +members of a great family. The individual idiosyncrasies of each member of +the great family stood forth. A kind of invisible roof beneath which every +one lived spread itself over each town. Beneath the roof boys and girls +were born, grew up, quarreled, fought, and formed friendships with their +fellows, were introduced into the mysteries of love, married, and became +the fathers and mothers of children, grew old, sickened, and died. + +Within the invisible circle and under the great roof every one knew his +neighbor and was known to him. Strangers did not come and go swiftly and +mysteriously and there was no constant and confusing roar of machinery and +of new projects afoot. For the moment mankind seemed about to take time to +try to understand itself. + +In Bidwell there was a man named Peter White who was a tailor and worked +hard at his trade, but who once or twice a year got drunk and beat his +wife. He was arrested each time and had to pay a fine, but there was a +general understanding of the impulse that led to the beating. Most of the +women knowing the wife sympathized with Peter. "She is a noisy thing and +her jaw is never still," the wife of Henry Teeters, the grocer, said to her +husband. "If he gets drunk it's only to forget he's married to her. Then +he goes home to sleep it off and she begins jawing at him. He stands it as +long as he can. It takes a fist to shut up that woman. If he strikes her +it's the only thing he can do." + +Allie Mulberry the half-wit was one of the highlights of life in the town. +He lived with his mother in a tumble-down house at the edge of town on +Medina Road. Beside being a half-wit he had something the matter with his +legs. They were trembling and weak and he could only move them with great +difficulty. On summer afternoons when the streets were deserted, he hobbled +along Main Street with his lower jaw hanging down. Allie carried a large +club, partly for the support of his weak legs and partly to scare off dogs +and mischievous boys. He liked to sit in the shade with his back against a +building and whittle, and he liked to be near people and have his talent as +a whittler appreciated. He made fans out of pieces of pine, long chains of +wooden beads, and he once achieved a singular mechanical triumph that won +him wide renown. He made a ship that would float in a beer bottle half +filled with water and laid on its side. The ship had sails and three tiny +wooden sailors who stood at attention with their hands to their caps in +salute. After it was constructed and put into the bottle it was too large +to be taken out through the neck. How Allie got it in no one ever knew. The +clerks and merchants who crowded about to watch him at work discussed the +matter for days. It became a never-ending wonder among them. In the evening +they spoke of the matter to the berry pickers who came into the stores, +and in the eyes of the people of Bidwell Allie Mulberry became a hero. The +bottle, half-filled with water and securely corked, was laid on a cushion +in the window of Hunter's Jewelry Store. As it floated about on its own +little ocean crowds gathered to look at it. Over the bottle was a sign with +the words--"Carved by Allie Mulberry of Bidwell"--prominently displayed. +Below these words a query had been printed. "How Did He Get It Into The +Bottle?" was the question asked. The bottle stayed in the window for months +and merchants took the traveling men who visited them, to see it. Then they +escorted their guests to where Allie, with his back against the wall of a +building and his club beside him, was at work on some new creation of the +whittler's art. The travelers were impressed and told the tale abroad. +Allie's fame spread to other towns. "He has a good brain," the citizen of +Bidwell said, shaking his head. "He don't appear to know very much, but +look what he does! He must be carrying all sorts of notions around inside +of his head." + +Jane Orange, widow of a lawyer, and with the single exception of Thomas +Butterworth, a farmer who owned over a thousand acres of land and lived +with his daughter on a farm a mile south of town, the richest person in +town, was known to every one in Bidwell, but was not liked. She was called +stingy and it was said that she and her husband had cheated every one with +whom they had dealings in order to get their start in life. The town ached +for the privilege of doing what they called "bringing them down a peg." +Jane's husband had once been the Bidwell town attorney and later had +charge of the settlement of an estate belonging to Ed Lucas, a farmer who +died leaving two hundred acres of land and two daughters. The farmer's +daughters, every one said, "came out at the small end of the horn," and +John Orange began to grow rich. It was said he was worth fifty thousand +dollars. All during the latter part of his life the lawyer went to the city +of Cleveland on business every week, and when he was at home and even in +the hottest weather he went about dressed in a long black coat. When she +went to the stores to buy supplies for her house Jane Orange was watched +closely by the merchants. She was suspected of carrying away small articles +that could be slipped into the pockets of her dress. One afternoon in +Toddmore's grocery, when she thought no one was looking, she took a half +dozen eggs out of a basket and looking quickly around to be sure she was +unobserved, put them into her dress pocket. Harry Toddmore, the grocer's +son who had seen the theft, said nothing, but went unobserved out at the +back door. He got three or four clerks from other stores and they waited +for Jane Orange at a corner. When she came along they hurried out and Harry +Toddmore fell against her. Throwing out his hand he struck the pocket +containing the eggs a quick, sharp blow. Jane Orange turned and hurried +away toward home, but as she half ran through Main Street clerks and +merchants came out of the stores, and from the assembled crowd a voice +called attention to the fact that the contents of the stolen eggs having +run down the inside of her dress and over her stockings began to make a +stream on the sidewalk. A pack of town dogs excited by the shouts of the +crowd ran at her heels, barking and sniffing at the yellow stream that +dripped from her shoes. + +An old man with a long white beard came to Bidwell to live. He had been a +carpet-bag Governor of a southern state in the reconstruction days after +the Civil War and had made money. He bought a house on Turner's Pike close +beside the river and spent his days puttering about in a small garden. In +the evening he came across the bridge into Main Street and went to loaf in +Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked with great frankness and candor of his +life in the South during the terrible time when the country was trying to +emerge from the black gloom of defeat, and brought to the Bidwell men a new +point of view on their old enemies, the "Rebs." + +The old man--the name by which he had introduced himself in Bidwell was +that of Judge Horace Hanby--believed in the manliness and honesty of +purpose of the men he had for a time governed and who had fought a long +grim war with the North, with the New Englanders and sons of New Englanders +from the West and Northwest. "They're all right," he said with a grin. "I +cheated them and made some money, but I liked them. Once a crowd of them +came to my house and threatened to kill me and I told them that I did not +blame them very much, so they let me alone." The judge, an ex-politician +from the city of New York who had been involved in some affair that made it +uncomfortable for him to return to live in that city, grew prophetic and +philosophic after he came to live in Bidwell. In spite of the doubt every +one felt concerning his past, he was something of a scholar and a reader of +books, and won respect by his apparent wisdom. "Well, there's going to be a +new war here," he said. "It won't be like the Civil War, just shooting off +guns and killing peoples' bodies. At first it's going to be a war between +individuals to see to what class a man must belong; then it is going to be +a long, silent war between classes, between those who have and those who +can't get. It'll be the worst war of all." + +The talk of Judge Hanby, carried along and elaborated almost every evening +before a silent, attentive group in the drug store, began to have an +influence on the minds of Bidwell young men. At his suggestion several +of the town boys, Cliff Bacon, Albert Small, Ed Prawl, and two or three +others, began to save money for the purpose of going east to college. Also +at his suggestion Tom Butterworth the rich farmer sent his daughter away to +school. The old man made many prophecies concerning what would happen in +America. "I tell you, the country isn't going to stay as it is," he said +earnestly. "In eastern towns the change has already come. Factories are +being built and every one is going to work in the factories. It takes an +old man like me to see how that changes their lives. Some of the men stand +at one bench and do one thing not only for hours but for days and years. +There are signs hung up saying they mustn't talk. Some of them make more +money than they did before the factories came, but I tell you it's like +being in prison. What would you say if I told you all America, all you +fellows who talk so big about freedom, are going to be put in a prison, eh? + +"And there's something else. In New York there are already a dozen men who +are worth a million dollars. Yes, sir, I tell you it's true, a million +dollars. What do you think of that, eh?" + +Judge Hanby grew excited and, inspired by the absorbed attention of his +audience, talked of the sweep of events. In England, he explained, the +cities were constantly growing larger, and already almost every one either +worked in a factory or owned stock in a factory. "In New England it is +getting the same way fast," he explained. "The same thing'll happen here. +Farming'll be done with tools. Almost everything now done by hand'll be +done by machinery. Some'll grow rich and some poor. The thing is to get +educated, yes, sir, that's the thing, to get ready for what's coming. It's +the only way. The younger generation has got to be sharper and shrewder." + +The words of the old man, who had been in many places and had seen men and +cities, were repeated in the streets of Bidwell. The blacksmith and the +wheelwright repeated his words when they stopped to exchange news of their +affairs before the post-office. Ben Peeler, the carpenter, who had been +saving money to buy a house and a small farm to which he could retire when +he became too old to climb about on the framework of buildings, used the +money instead to send his son to Cleveland to a new technical school. Steve +Hunter, the son of Abraham Hunter the Bidwell jeweler, declared that he was +going to get up with the times, and when he went into a factory, would go +into the office, not into the shop. He went to Buffalo, New York, to attend +a business college. + +The air of Bidwell began to stir with talk of new times. The evil things +said of the new life coming were soon forgotten. The youth and optimistic +spirit of the country led it to take hold of the hand of the giant, +industrialism, and lead him laughing into the land. The cry, "get on in +the world," that ran all over America at that period and that still echoes +in the pages of American newspapers and magazines, rang in the streets of +Bidwell. + +In the harness shop belonging to Joseph Wainsworth it one day struck a +new note. The harness maker was a tradesman of the old school and was +vastly independent. He had learned his trade after five years' service as +apprentice, and had spent an additional five years in going from place to +place as a journeyman workman, and felt that he knew his business. Also he +owned his shop and his home and had twelve hundred dollars in the bank. At +noon one day when he was alone in the shop, Tom Butterworth came in and +told him he had ordered four sets of farm work harness from a factory in +Philadelphia. "I came in to ask if you'll repair them if they get out of +order," he said. + +Joe Wainsworth began to fumble with the tools on his bench. Then he turned +to look the farmer in the eye and to do what he later spoke of to his +cronies as "laying down the law." "When the cheap things begin to go to +pieces take them somewhere else to have them repaired," he said sharply. He +grew furiously angry. "Take the damn things to Philadelphia where you got +'em," he shouted at the back of the farmer who had turned to go out of the +shop. + +Joe Wainsworth was upset and thought about the incident all the afternoon. +When farmer-customers came in and stood about to talk of their affairs +he had nothing to say. He was a talkative man and his apprentice, Will +Sellinger, son of the Bidwell house painter, was puzzled by his silence. + +When the boy and the man were alone in the shop, it was Joe Wainsworth's +custom to talk of his days as a journeyman workman when he had gone from +place to place working at his trade. If a trace were being stitched or a +bridle fashioned, he told how the thing was done at a shop where he had +worked in the city of Boston and in another shop at Providence, Rhode +Island. Getting a piece of paper he made drawings illustrating the cuts of +leather that were made in the other places and the methods of stitching. He +claimed to have worked out his own method for doing things, and that his +method was better than anything he had seen in all his travels. To the +men who came into the shop to loaf during winter afternoons he presented +a smiling front and talked of their affairs, of the price of cabbage in +Cleveland or the effect of a cold snap on the winter wheat, but alone with +the boy, he talked only of harness making. "I don't say anything about it. +What's the good bragging? Just the same, I could learn something to all the +harness makers I've ever seen, and I've seen the best of them," he declared +emphatically. + +During the afternoon, after he had heard of the four factory-made work +harnesses brought into what he had always thought of as a trade that +belonged to him by the rights of a first-class workman, Joe remained silent +for two or three hours. He thought of the words of old Judge Hanby and +the constant talk of the new times now coming. Turning suddenly to his +apprentice, who was puzzled by his long silence and who knew nothing of +the incident that had disturbed his employer, he broke forth into words. +He was defiant and expressed his defiance. "Well, then, let 'em go to +Philadelphia, let 'em go any damn place they please," he growled, and +then, as though his own words had re-established his self-respect, he +straightened his shoulders and glared at the puzzled and alarmed boy. "I +know my trade and do not have to bow down to any man," he declared. He +expressed the old tradesman's faith in his craft and the rights it gave the +craftsman. "Learn your trade. Don't listen to talk," he said earnestly. +"The man who knows his trade is a man. He can tell every one to go to the +devil." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Hugh McVey was twenty-three years old when he went to live in Bidwell. The +position of telegraph operator at the Wheeling station a mile north of town +became vacant and, through an accidental encounter with a former resident +of a neighboring town, he got the place. + +The Missourian had been at work during the winter in a sawmill in the +country near a northern Indiana town. During the evenings he wandered on +country roads and in the town streets, but he did not talk to any one. As +had happened to him in other places, he had the reputation of being queer. +His clothes were worn threadbare and, although he had money in his pockets, +he did not buy new ones. In the evening when he went through the town +streets and saw the smartly dressed clerks standing before the stores, he +looked at his own shabby person and was ashamed to enter. In his boyhood +Sarah Shepard had always attended to the buying of his clothes, and he made +up his mind that he would go to the place in Michigan to which she and her +husband had retired, and pay her a visit. He wanted Sarah Shepard to buy +him a new outfit of clothes, but wanted also to talk with her. + +Out of the three years of going from place to place and working with other +men as a laborer, Hugh had got no big impulse that he felt would mark the +road his life should take; but the study of mathematical problems, taken +up to relieve his loneliness and to cure his inclination to dreams, was +beginning to have an effect on his character. He thought that if he saw +Sarah Shepard again he could talk to her and through her get into the +way of talking to others. In the sawmill where he worked he answered the +occasional remarks made to him by his fellow workers in a slow, hesitating +drawl, and his body was still awkward and his gait shambling, but he did +his work more quickly and accurately. In the presence of his foster-mother +and garbed in new clothes, he believed he could now talk to her in a way +that had been impossible during his youth. She would see the change in his +character and would be encouraged about him. They would get on to a new +basis and he would feel respect for himself in another. + +Hugh went to the railroad station to make inquiry regarding the fare to the +Michigan town and there had the adventure that upset his plans. As he stood +at the window of the ticket office, the ticket seller, who was also the +telegraph operator, tried to engage him in conversation. When he had given +the information asked, he followed Hugh out of the building and into the +darkness of a country railroad station at night, and the two men stopped +and stood together beside an empty baggage truck. The ticket agent spoke of +the loneliness of life in the town and said he wished he could go back to +his own place and be again with his own people. "It may not be any better +in my own town, but I know everybody there," he said. He was curious +concerning Hugh as were all the people of the Indiana town, and hoped to +get him into talk in order that he might find out why he walked alone at +night, why he sometimes worked all evening over books and figures in his +room at the country hotel, and why he had so little to say to his fellows. +Hoping to fathom Hugh's silence he abused the town in which they both +lived. "Well," he began, "I guess I understand how you feel. You want to +get out of this place." He explained his own predicament in life. "I got +married," he said. "Already I have three children. Out here a man can make +more money railroading than he can in my state, and living is pretty cheap. +Just to-day I had an offer of a job in a good town near my own place in +Ohio, but I can't take it. The job only pays forty a month. The town's all +right, one of the best in the northern part of the State, but you see the +job's no good. Lord, I wish I could go. I'd like to live again among people +such as live in that part of the country." + +The railroad man and Hugh walked along the street that ran from the station +up into the main street of the town. Wanting to meet the advances that had +been made by his companion and not knowing how to go about it, Hugh adopted +the method he had heard his fellow laborers use with one another. "Well," +he said slowly, "come have a drink." + +The two men went into a saloon and stood by the bar. Hugh made a tremendous +effort to overcome his embarrassment. As he and the railroad man drank +foaming glasses of beer he explained that he also had once been a railroad +man and knew telegraphy, but that for several years he had been doing other +work. His companion looked at his shabby clothes and nodded his head. He +made a motion with his head to indicate that he wanted Hugh to come with +him outside into the darkness. "Well, well," he exclaimed, when they had +again got outside and had started along the street toward the station. "I +understand now. They've all been wondering about you and I've heard lots of +talk. I won't say anything, but I'm going to do something for you." + +Hugh went to the station with his new-found friend and sat down in the +lighted office. The railroad man got out a sheet of paper and began to +write a letter. "I'm going to get you that job," he said. "I'm writing the +letter now and I'll get it off on the midnight train. You've got to get on +your feet. I was a boozer myself, but I cut it all out. A glass of beer now +and then, that's my limit." + +He began to talk of the town in Ohio where he proposed to get Hugh the +job that would set him up in the world and save him from the habit of +drinking, and described it as an earthly paradise in which lived bright, +clear-thinking men and beautiful women. Hugh was reminded sharply of the +talk he had heard from the lips of Sarah Shepard, when in his youth she +spent long evenings telling him of the wonder of her own Michigan and New +England towns and people, and contrasted the life lived there with that +lived by the people of his own place. + +Hugh decided not to try to explain away the mistake made by his new +acquaintance, and to accept the offer of assistance in getting the +appointment as telegraph operator. + +The two men walked out of the station and stood again in the darkness. The +railroad man felt like one who has been given the privilege of plucking a +human soul out of the darkness of despair. He was full of words that poured +from his lips and he assumed a knowledge of Hugh and his character entirely +unwarranted by the circumstances. "Well," he exclaimed heartily, "you see +I've given you a send-off. I have told them you're a good man and a good +operator, but that you will take the place with its small salary because +you've been sick and just now can't work very hard." The excited man +followed Hugh along the street. It was late and the store lights had been +put out. From one of the town's two saloons that lay in their way arose a +clatter of voices. The old boyhood dream of finding a place and a people +among whom he could, by sitting still and inhaling the air breathed by +others, come into a warm closeness with life, came back to Hugh. He stopped +before the saloon to listen to the voices within, but the railroad man +plucked at his coat sleeve and protested. "Now, now, you're going to cut it +out, eh?" he asked anxiously and then hurriedly explained his anxiety. "Of +course I know what's the matter with you. Didn't I tell you I've been there +myself? You've been working around. I know why that is. You don't have to +tell me. If there wasn't something the matter with him, no man who knows +telegraphy would work in a sawmill. + +"Well, there's no good talking about it," he added thoughtfully. "I've +given you a send-off. You're going to cut it out, eh?" + +Hugh tried to protest and to explain that he was not addicted to the habit +of drinking, but the Ohio man would not listen. "It's all right," he said +again, and then they came to the hotel where Hugh lived and he turned to +go back to the station and wait for the midnight train that would carry +the letter away and that would, he felt, carry also his demand that a +fellow-human, who had slipped from the modern path of work and progress +should be given a new chance. He felt magnanimous and wonderfully gracious. +"It's all right, my boy," he said heartily. "No use talking to me. To-night +when you came to the station to ask the fare to that hole of a place in +Michigan I saw you were embarrassed. 'What's the matter with that fellow?' +I said to myself. I got to thinking. Then I came up town with you and right +away you bought me a drink. I wouldn't have thought anything about that if +I hadn't been there myself. You'll get on your feet. Bidwell, Ohio, is full +of good men. You get in with them and they'll help you and stick by you. +You'll like those people. They've got get-up to them. The place you'll work +at there is far out of town. It's away out about a mile at a little kind of +outside-like place called Pickleville. There used to be a saloon there and +a factory for putting up cucumber pickles, but they've both gone now. You +won't be tempted to slip in that place. You'll have a chance to get on your +feet. I'm glad I thought of sending you there." + + * * * * * + +The Wheeling and Lake Erie ran along a little wooded depression that cut +across the wide expanse of open farm lands north of the town of Bidwell. It +brought coal from the hill country of West Virginia and southeastern Ohio +to ports on Lake Erie, and did not pay much attention to the carrying of +passengers. In the morning a train consisting of a combined express and +baggage car and two passenger coaches went north and west toward the lake, +and in the evening the same train returned, bound southeast into the Hills, +The Bidwell station of the road was, in an odd way, detached from the +town's life. The invisible roof under which the life of the town and the +surrounding country was lived did not cover it. As the Indiana railroad +man had told Hugh, the station itself stood on a spot known locally as +Pickleville. Back of the station there was a small building for the storage +of freight and near at hand four or five houses facing Turner's Pike. The +pickle factory, now deserted and with its windows gone, stood across the +tracks from the station and beside a small stream that ran under a bridge +and across country through a grove of trees to the river. On hot summer +days a sour, pungent smell arose from the old factory, and at night its +presence lent a ghostly flavor to the tiny corner of the world in which +lived perhaps a dozen people. + +All day and at night an intense persistent silence lay over Pickleville, +while in Bidwell a mile away the stir of new life began. In the evenings +and on rainy afternoons when men could not work in the fields, old Judge +Hanby went along Turner's Pike and across the wagon bridge into Bidwell and +sat in a chair at the back of Birdie Spink's drug store. He talked. Men +came in to listen to him and went out. New talk ran through the town. A new +force that was being born into American life and into life everywhere all +over the world was feeding on the old dying individualistic life. The new +force stirred and aroused the people. It met a need that was universal. It +was meant to seal men together, to wipe out national lines, to walk under +seas and fly through the air, to change the entire face of the world in +which men lived. Already the giant that was to be king in the place of old +kings was calling his servants and his armies to serve him. He used the +methods of old kings and promised his followers booty and gain. Everywhere +he went unchallenged, surveying the land, raising a new class of men to +positions of power. Railroads had already been pushed out across the +plains; great coal fields from which was to be taken food to warm the blood +in the body of the giant were being opened up; iron fields were being +discovered; the roar and clatter of the breathing of the terrible new +thing, half hideous, half beautiful in its possibilities, that was for +so long to drown the voices and confuse the thinking of men, was heard +not only in the towns but even in lonely farm houses, where its willing +servants, the newspapers and magazines, had begun to circulate in ever +increasing numbers. At the town of Gibsonville, near Bidwell, Ohio, and at +Lima and Finley, Ohio, oil and gas fields were discovered. At Cleveland, +Ohio, a precise, definite-minded man named Rockefeller bought and sold +oil. From the first he served the new thing well and he soon found others +to serve with him. The Morgans, Fricks, Goulds, Carnegies, Vanderbilts, +servants of the new king, princes of the new faith, merchants all, a new +kind of rulers of men, defied the world-old law of class that puts the +merchant below the craftsman, and added to the confusion of men by taking +on the air of creators. They were merchants glorified and dealt in giant +things, in the lives of men and in mines, forests, oil and gas fields, +factories, and railroads. + +And all over the country, in the towns, the farm houses, and the growing +cities of the new country, people stirred and awakened. Thought and poetry +died or passed as a heritage to feeble fawning men who also became servants +of the new order. Serious young men in Bidwell and in other American towns, +whose fathers had walked together on moonlight nights along Turner's Pike +to talk of God, went away to technical schools. Their fathers had walked +and talked and thoughts had grown up in them. The impulse had reached back +to their father's fathers on moonlit roads of England, Germany, Ireland, +France, and Italy, and back of these to the moonlit hills of Judea where +shepherds talked and serious young men, John and Matthew and Jesus, caught +the drift of the talk and made poetry of it; but the serious-minded sons of +these men in the new land were swept away from thinking and dreaming. From +all sides the voice of the new age that was to do definite things shouted +at them. Eagerly they took up the cry and ran with it. Millions of voices +arose. The clamor became terrible, and confused the minds of all men. In +making way for the newer, broader brotherhood into which men are some day +to emerge, in extending the invisible roofs of the towns and cities to +cover the world, men cut and crushed their way through the bodies of men. + +And while the voices became louder and more excited and the new giant +walked about making a preliminary survey of the land, Hugh spent his days +at the quiet, sleepy railroad station at Pickleville and tried to adjust +his mind to the realization of the fact that he was not to be accepted as +fellow by the citizens of the new place to which he had come. During the +day he sat in the tiny telegraph office or, pulling an express truck to the +open window near his telegraph instrument, lay on his back with a sheet +of paper propped on his bony knees and did sums. Farmers driving past on +Turner's Pike saw him there and talked of him in the stores in town. "He's +a queer silent fellow," they said. "What do you suppose he's up to?" + +Hugh walked in the streets of Bidwell at night as he had walked in the +streets of towns in Indiana and Illinois. He approached groups of men +loafing on a street corner and then went hurriedly past them. On quiet +streets as he went along under the trees, he saw women sitting in the +lamplight in the houses and hungered to have a house and a woman of his +own. One afternoon a woman school teacher came to the station to make +inquiry regarding the fare to a town in West Virginia. As the station agent +was not about Hugh gave her the information she sought and she lingered for +a few moments to talk with him. He answered the questions she asked with +monosyllables and she soon went away, but he was delighted and looked upon +the incident as an adventure. At night he dreamed of the school teacher and +when he awoke, pretended she was with him in his bedroom. He put out his +hand and touched the pillow. It was soft and smooth as he imagined the +cheek of a woman would be. He did not know the school teacher's name but +invented one for her. "Be quiet, Elizabeth. Do not let me disturb your +sleep," he murmured into the darkness. One evening he went to the house +where the school teacher boarded and stood in the shadow of a tree until he +saw her come out and go toward Main Street. Then he went by a roundabout +way and walked past her on the sidewalk before the lighted stores. He did +not look at her, but in passing her dress touched his arm and he was so +excited later that he could not sleep and spent half the night walking +about and thinking of the wonderful thing that had happened to him. + +The ticket, express, and freight agent for the Wheeling and Lake Erie at +Bidwell, a man named George Pike, lived in one of the houses near the +station, and besides attending to his duties for the railroad company, +owned and worked a small farm. He was a slender, alert, silent man with a +long drooping mustache. Both he and his wife worked as Hugh had never seen +a man and woman work before. Their arrangement of the division of labor +was not based on sex but on convenience. Sometimes Mrs. Pike came to the +station to sell tickets, load express boxes and trunks on the passenger +trains and deliver heavy boxes of freight to draymen and farmers, while her +husband worked in the fields back of his house or prepared the evening +meal, and sometimes the matter was reversed and Hugh did not see Mrs. Pike +for several days at a time. + +During the day there was little for the station agent or his wife to do +at the station and they disappeared. George Pike had made an arrangement +of wires and pulleys connecting the station with a large bell hung on top +of his house, and when some one came to the station to receive or deliver +freight Hugh pulled at the wire and the bell began to ring. In a few +minutes either George Pike or his wife came running from the house or +fields, dispatched the business and went quickly away again. + +Day after day Hugh sat in a chair by a desk in the station or went outside +and walked up and down the station platform. Engines pulling long caravans +of coal cars ground past. The brakemen waved their hands to him and then +the train disappeared into the grove of trees that grew beside the creek +along which the tracks of the road were laid. In Turner's Pike a creaking +farm wagon appeared and then disappeared along the tree-lined road that led +to Bidwell. The farmer turned on his wagon seat to stare at Hugh but unlike +the railroad men did not wave his hand. Adventurous boys came out along the +road from town and climbed, shouting and laughing, over the rafters in the +deserted pickle factory across the tracks or went to fish in the creek in +the shade of the factory walls. Their shrill voices added to the loneliness +of the spot. It became almost unbearable to Hugh. In desperation he turned +from the rather meaningless doing of sums and working out of problems +regarding the number of fence pickets that could be cut from a tree or +the number of steel rails or railroad ties consumed in building a mile of +railroad, the innumerable petty problems with which he had been keeping +his mind busy, and turned to more definite and practical problems. He +remembered an autumn he had put in cutting corn on a farm in Illinois and, +going into the station, waved his long arms about, imitating the movements +of a man in the act of cutting corn. He wondered if a machine might not be +made that would do the work, and tried to make drawings of the parts of +such a machine. Feeling his inability to handle so difficult a problem +he sent away for books and began the study of mechanics. He joined a +correspondence school started by a man in Pennsylvania, and worked for days +on the problems the man sent him to do. He asked questions and began a +little to understand the mystery of the application of power. Like the +other young men of Bidwell he began to put himself into touch with the +spirit of the age, but unlike them he did not dream of suddenly acquired +wealth. While they embraced new and futile dreams he worked to destroy the +tendency to dreams in himself. + +Hugh came to Bidwell in the early spring and during May, June and July +the quiet station at Pickleville awoke for an hour or two each evening. +A certain percentage of the sudden and almost overwhelming increase in +express business that came with the ripening of the fruit and berry crop +came to the Wheeling, and every evening a dozen express trucks, piled high +with berry boxes, waited for the south bound train. When the train came +into the station a small crowd had assembled. George Pike and his stout +wife worked madly, throwing the boxes in at the door of the express car. +Idlers standing about became interested and lent a hand. The engineer +climbed out of his locomotive, stretched his legs and crossing a narrow +road got a drink from the pump in George Pike's yard. + +Hugh walked to the door of his telegraph office and standing in the shadows +watched the busy scene. He wanted to take part in it, to laugh and talk +with the men standing about, to go to the engineer and ask questions +regarding the locomotive and its construction, to help George Pike and his +wife, and perhaps cut through their silence and his own enough to become +acquainted with them. He thought of all these things but stayed in the +shadow of the door that led to the telegraph office until, at a signal +given by the train conductor, the engineer climbed into his engine and the +train began to move away into the evening darkness. When Hugh came out of +his office the station platform was deserted again. In the grass across +the tracks and beside the ghostly looking old factory, crickets sang. Tom +Wilder, the Bidwell hack driver, had got a traveling man off the train and +the dust left by the heels of his team still hung in the air over Turner's +Pike. From the darkness that brooded over the trees that grew along the +creek beyond the factory came the hoarse croak of frogs. On Turner's Pike a +half dozen Bidwell young men accompanied by as many town girls walked along +the path beside the road under the trees. They had come to the station +to have somewhere to go, had made up a party to come, but now the half +unconscious purpose of their coming was apparent. The party split itself +up into couples and each strove to get as far away as possible from the +others. One of the couples came back along the path toward the station and +went to the pump in George Pike's yard. They stood by the pump, laughing +and pretending to drink out of a tin cup, and when they got again into +the road the others had disappeared. They became silent. Hugh went to the +end of the platform and watched as they walked slowly along. He became +furiously jealous of the young man who put his arm about the waist of his +companion and then, when he turned and saw Hugh staring at him, took it +away again. + +The telegraph operator went quickly along the platform until he was out of +range of the young man's eyes, and, when he thought the gathering darkness +would hide him, returned and crept along the path beside the road after +him. Again a hungry desire to enter into the lives of the people about him +took possession of the Missourian. To be a young man dressed in a stiff +white collar, wearing neatly made clothes, and in the evening to walk about +with young girls seemed like getting on the road to happiness. He wanted +to run shouting along the path beside the road until he had overtaken the +young man and woman, to beg them to take him with them, to accept him +as one of themselves, but when the momentary impulse had passed and he +returned to the telegraph office and lighted a lamp, he looked at his +long awkward body and could not conceive of himself as ever by any chance +becoming the thing he wanted to be. Sadness swept over him and his gaunt +face, already cut and marked with deep lines, became longer and more +gaunt. The old boyhood notion, put into his mind by the words of his +foster-mother, Sarah Shepard, that a town and a people could remake him and +erase from his body the marks of what he thought of as his inferior birth, +began to fade. He tried to forget the people about him and turned with +renewed energy to the study of the problems in the books that now lay in +a pile upon his desk. His inclination to dreams, balked by the persistent +holding of his mind to definite things, began to reassert itself in a new +form, and his brain played no more with pictures of clouds and men in +agitated movement but took hold of steel, wood, and iron. Dumb masses of +materials taken out of the earth and the forests were molded by his mind +into fantastic shapes. As he sat in the telegraph office during the day or +walked alone through the streets of Bidwell at night, he saw in fancy a +thousand new machines, formed by his hands and brain, doing the work that +had been done by the hands of men. He had come to Bidwell, not only in +the hope that there he would at last find companionship, but also because +his mind was really aroused and he wanted leisure to begin trying to do +tangible things. When the citizens of Bidwell would not take him into their +town life but left him standing to one side, as the tiny dwelling place +for men called Pickleville where he lived stood aside out from under the +invisible roof of the town, he decided to try to forget men and to express +himself wholly in work. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +Hugh's first inventive effort stirred the town of Bidwell deeply. When +word of it ran about, the men who had been listening to the talk of Judge +Horace Hanby and whose minds had turned toward the arrival of the new +forward-pushing impulse in American life thought they saw in Hugh the +instrument of its coming to Bidwell. From the day of his coming to live +among them, there had been much curiosity in the stores and houses +regarding the tall, gaunt, slow-speaking stranger at Pickleville. George +Pike had told Birdie Spinks the druggist how Hugh worked all day over +books, and how he made drawings for parts of mysterious machines and left +them on his desk in the telegraph office. Birdie Spinks told others and the +tale grew. When Hugh walked alone in the streets during the evening and +thought no one took account of his presence, hundreds of pairs of curious +eyes followed him about. + +A tradition in regard to the telegraph operator began to grow up. The +tradition made Hugh a gigantic figure, one who walked always on a plane +above that on which other men lived. In the imagination of his fellow +citizens of the Ohio town, he went about always thinking great thoughts, +solving mysterious and intricate problems that had to do with the new +mechanical age Judge Hanby talked about to the eager listeners in the +drug-store. An alert, talkative people saw among them one who could not +talk and whose long face was habitually serious, and could not think of him +as having daily to face the same kind of minor problems as themselves. + +The Bidwell young man who had come down to the Wheeling station with a +group of other young men, who had seen the evening train go away to the +south, who had met at the station one of the town girls and had, in order +to escape the others and be alone with her, taken her to the pump in George +Pike's yard on the pretense of wanting a drink, walked away with her into +the darkness of the summer evening with his mind fixed on Hugh. The young +man's name was Ed Hall and he was apprentice to Ben Peeler, the carpenter +who had sent his son to Cleveland to a technical school. He wanted to marry +the girl he had met at the station and did not see how he could manage it +on his salary as a carpenter's apprentice. When he looked back and saw Hugh +standing on the station platform, he took the arm he had put around the +girl's waist quickly away and began to talk. "I'll tell you what," he said +earnestly, "if things don't pretty soon get on the stir around here I'm +going to get out. I'll go over by Gibsonburg and get a job in the oil +fields, that's what I'll do. I got to have more money." He sighed heavily +and looked over the girl's head into the darkness. "They say that telegraph +fellow back there at the station is up to something," he ventured. "It's +all the talk. Birdie Spinks says he is an inventor; says George Pike told +him; says he is working all the time on new inventions to do things by +machinery; that his passing off as a telegraph operator is only a bluff. +Some think maybe he was sent here to see about starting a factory to make +one of his inventions, sent by rich men maybe in Cleveland or some other +place. Everybody says they'll bet there'll be factories here in Bidwell +before very long now. I wish I knew. I don't want to go away if I don't +have to, but I got to have more money. Ben Peeler won't never give me a +raise so I can get married or nothing. I wish I knew that fellow back there +so I could ask him what's up. They say he's smart. I suppose he wouldn't +tell me nothing. I wish I was smart enough to invent something and maybe +get rich. I wish I was the kind of fellow they say he is." + +Ed Hall again put his arm about the girl's waist and walked away. He forgot +Hugh and thought of himself and of how he wanted to marry the girl whose +young body nestled close to his own--wanted her to be utterly his. For +a few hours he passed out of Hugh's growing sphere of influence on the +collective thought of the town, and lost himself in the immediate +deliciousness of kisses. + +And as he passed out of Hugh's influence others came in. On Main Street in +the evening every one speculated on the Missourian's purpose in coming to +Bidwell. The forty dollars a month paid him by the Wheeling railroad could +not have tempted such a man. They were sure of that. Steve Hunter the +jeweler's son had returned to town from a course in a business college at +Buffalo, New York, and hearing the talk became interested. Steve had in him +the making of a live man of affairs, and he decided to investigate. It was +not, however, Steve's method to go at things directly, and he was impressed +by the notion, then abroad in Bidwell, that Hugh had been sent to town by +some one, perhaps by a group of capitalists who intended to start factories +there. + +Steve thought he would go easy. In Buffalo, where he had gone to the +business college, he had met a girl whose father, E. P. Horn, owned a soap +factory; had become acquainted with her at church and had been introduced +to her father. The soap maker, an assertive positive man who manufactured +a product called Horn's Household Friend Soap, had his own notion of what +a young man should be and how he should make his way in the world, and had +taken pleasure in talking to Steve. He told the Bidwell jeweler's son of +how he had started his own factory with but little money and had succeeded +and gave Steve many practical hints on the organization of companies. He +talked a great deal of a thing called "control." "When you get ready to +start for yourself keep that in mind," he said. "You can sell stock and +borrow money at the bank, all you can get, but don't give up control. Hang +on to that. That's the way I made my success. I always kept the control." + +Steve wanted to marry Ernestine Horn, but felt that he should show what he +could do as a business man before he attempted to thrust himself into so +wealthy and prominent a family. When he returned to his own town and heard +the talk regarding Hugh McVey and his inventive genius, he remembered the +soap maker's words regarding control, and repeated them to himself. One +evening he walked along Turner's Pike and stood in the darkness by the old +pickle factory. He saw Hugh at work under a lamp in the telegraph office +and was impressed. "I'll lay low and see what he's up to," he told himself. +"If he's got an invention, I'll get up a company. I'll get money in and +I'll start a factory. The people here'll tumble over each other to get into +a thing like that. I don't believe any one sent him here. I'll bet he's +just an inventor. That kind always are queer. I'll keep my mouth shut and +watch my chance. If there is anything starts, I'll start it and I'll get +into control, that's what I'll do, I'll get into control." + + * * * * * + +In the country stretching away north beyond the fringe of small berry farms +lying directly about town, were other and larger farms. The land that made +up these larger farms was also rich and raised big crops. Great stretches +of it were planted to cabbage for which a market had been built up in +Cleveland, Pittsburgh, and Cincinnati. Bidwell was often in derision called +Cabbageville by the citizens of nearby towns. One of the largest of the +cabbage farms belonged to a man named Ezra French, and was situated on +Turner's Pike, two miles from town and a mile beyond the Wheeling station. + +On spring evenings when it was dark and silent about the station and when +the air was heavy with the smell of new growth and of land fresh-turned by +the plow, Hugh got out of his chair in the telegraph office and walked in +the soft darkness. He went along Turner's Pike to town, saw groups of men +standing on the sidewalks before the stores and young girls walking arm +in arm along the street, and then came back to the silent station. Into +his long and habitually cold body the warmth of desire began to creep. +The spring rains came and soft winds blew down from the hill country to +the south. One evening when the moon shone he went around the old pickle +factory to where the creek went chattering under leaning willow trees, and +as he stood in the heavy shadows by the factory wall, tried to imagine +himself as one who had become suddenly clean-limbed, graceful, and agile. A +bush grew beside the stream near the factory and he took hold of it with +his powerful hands and tore it out by the roots. For a moment the strength +in his shoulders and arms gave him an intense masculine satisfaction. He +thought of how powerfully he could hold the body of a woman against his +body and the spark of the fires of spring that had touched him became a +flame. He felt new-made and tried to leap lightly and gracefully across the +stream, but stumbled and fell in the water. Later he went soberly back to +the station and tried again to lose himself in the study of the problems he +had found in his books. + +The Ezra French farm lay beside Turner's Pike a mile north of the Wheeling +station and contained two hundred acres of land of which a large part was +planted to cabbages. It was a profitable crop to raise and required no more +care than corn, but the planting was a terrible task. Thousands of plants +that had been raised from seeds planted in a seed-bed back of the barn had +to be laboriously transplanted. The plants were tender and it was necessary +to handle them carefully. The planter crawled slowly and painfully along, +and from the road looked like a wounded beast striving to make his way to +a hole in a distant wood. He crawled forward a little and then stopped and +hunched himself up into a ball-like mass. Taking the plant, dropped on the +ground by one of the plant droppers, he made a hole in the soft ground with +a small three-cornered hoe, and with his hands packed the earth about the +plant roots. Then he crawled on again. + +Ezra the cabbage farmer had come west from one of the New England states +and had grown comfortably wealthy, but he would not employ extra labor for +the plant setting and the work was done by his sons and daughters. He was a +short, bearded man whose leg had been broken in his youth by a fall from +the loft of a barn. As it had not mended properly he could do little work +and limped painfully about. To the men of Bidwell he was known as something +of a wit, and in the winter he went to town every afternoon to stand in the +stores and tell the Rabelaisian stories for which he was famous; but when +spring came he became restlessly active, and in his own house and on the +farm, became a tyrant. During the time of the cabbage setting he drove his +sons and daughters like slaves. When in the evening the moon came up, he +made them go back to the fields immediately after supper and work until +midnight. They went in sullen silence, the girls to limp slowly along +dropping the plants out of baskets carried on their arms, and the boys to +crawl after them and set the plants. In the half darkness the little group +of humans went slowly up and down the long fields. Ezra hitched a horse to +a wagon and brought the plants from the seed-bed behind the barn. He went +here and there swearing and protesting against every delay in the work. +When his wife, a tired little old woman, had finished the evening's work +in the house, he made her come also to the fields. "Come, come," he said, +sharply, "we need every pair of hands we can get." Although he had several +thousand dollars in the Bidwell bank and owned mortgages on two or three +neighboring farms, Ezra was afraid of poverty, and to keep his family at +work pretended to be upon the point of losing all his possessions. "Now is +our chance to save ourselves," he declared. "We must get in a big crop. If +we do not work hard now we'll starve." When in the field his sons found +themselves unable to crawl longer without resting, and stood up to stretch +their tired bodies, he stood by the fence at the field's edge and swore. +"Well, look at the mouths I have to feed, you lazies!" he shouted. "Keep +at the work. Don't be idling around. In two weeks it'll be too late for +planting and then you can rest. Now every plant we set will help to save us +from ruin. Keep at the job. Don't be idling around." + +In the spring of his second year in Bidwell, Hugh went often in the evening +to watch the plant setters at work in the moonlight on the French farm. He +did not make his presence known but hid himself in a fence corner behind +bushes and watched the workers. As he saw the stooped misshapen figures +crawling slowly along and heard the words of the old man driving them like +cattle, his heart was deeply touched and he wanted to protest. In the dim +light the slowly moving figures of women appeared, and after them came the +crouched crawling men. They came down the long row toward him, wriggling +into his line of sight like grotesquely misshapen animals driven by some +god of the night to the performance of a terrible task. An arm went up. It +came down again swiftly. The three-cornered hoe sank into the ground. The +slow rhythm of the crawler was broken. He reached with his disengaged hand +for the plant that lay on the ground before him and lowered it into the +hole the hoe had made. With his fingers he packed the earth about the roots +of the plant and then again began the slow crawl forward. There were four +of the French boys and the two older ones worked in silence. The younger +boys complained. The three girls and their mother, who were attending to +the plant dropping, came to the end of the row and turning, went away into +the darkness. "I'm going to quit this slavery," one of the younger boys +said. "I'll get a job over in town. I hope it's true what they say, that +factories are coming." + +The four young men came to the end of the row and, as Ezra was not in +sight, stood a moment by the fence near where Hugh was concealed. "I'd +rather be a horse or a cow than what I am," the complaining voice went on. +"What's the good being alive if you have to work like this?" + +For a moment as he listened to the voices of the complaining workers, Hugh +wanted to go to them and ask them to let him share in their labor. Then +another thought came. The crawling figures came sharply into his line of +vision. He no longer heard the voice of the youngest of the French boys +that seemed to come out of the ground. The machine-like swing of the bodies +of the plant setters suggested vaguely to his mind the possibility of +building a machine that would do the work they were doing. His mind took +eager hold of that thought and he was relieved. There had been something in +the crawling figures and in the moonlight out of which the voices came that +had begun to awaken in his mind the fluttering, dreamy state in which he +had spent so much of his boyhood. To think of the possibility of building +a plant-setting machine was safer. It fitted into what Sarah Shepard had +so often told him was the safe way of life. As he went back through the +darkness to the railroad station, he thought about the matter and decided +that to become an inventor would be the sure way of placing his feet at +last upon the path of progress he was trying to find. + +Hugh became absorbed in the notion of inventing a machine that would do the +work he had seen the men doing in the field. All day he thought about it. +The notion once fixed in his mind gave him something tangible to work upon. +In the study of mechanics, taken up in a purely amateur spirit, he had +not gone far enough to feel himself capable of undertaking the actual +construction of such a machine, but thought the difficulty might be +overcome by patience and by experimenting with combinations of wheels, +gears and levers whittled out of pieces of wood. From Hunter's Jewelry +Store he got a cheap clock and spent days taking it apart and putting it +together again. He dropped the doing of mathematical problems and sent away +for books describing the construction of machines. Already the flood of new +inventions, that was so completely to change the methods of cultivating the +soil in America, had begun to spread over the country, and many new and +strange kinds of agricultural implements arrived at the Bidwell freight +house of the Wheeling railroad. There Hugh saw a harvesting machine +for cutting grain, a mowing machine for cutting hay and a long-nosed +strange-looking implement that was intended to root potatoes out of the +ground very much after the method pursued by energetic pigs. He studied +these carefully. For a time his mind turned away from the hunger for human +contact and he was content to remain an isolated figure, absorbed in the +workings of his own awakening mind. + +An absurd and amusing thing happened. After the impulse to try to invent a +plant-setting machine came to him, he went every evening to conceal himself +in the fence corner and watch the French family at their labors. Absorbed +in watching the mechanical movements of the men who crawled across the +fields in the moonlight, he forgot they were human. After he had watched +them crawl into sight, turn at the end of the rows, and crawl away again +into the hazy light that had reminded him of the dim distances of his own +Mississippi River country, he was seized with a desire to crawl after +them and to try to imitate their movements. Certain intricate mechanical +problems, that had already come into his mind in connection with the +proposed machine, he thought could be better understood if he could get +the movements necessary to plant setting into his own body. His lips began +to mutter words and getting out of the fence corner where he had been +concealed he began to crawl across the field behind the French boys. "The +down stroke will go so," he muttered, and bringing up his arm swung it +above his head. His fist descended into the soft ground. He had forgotten +the rows of new set plants and crawled directly over them, crushing them +into the soft ground. He stopped crawling and waved his arm about. He tried +to relate his arms to the mechanical arms of the machine that was being +created in his mind. Holding one arm stiffly in front of him he moved it up +and down. "The stroke will be shorter than that. The machine must be built +close to the ground. The wheels and the horses will travel in paths between +the rows. The wheels must be broad to provide traction. I will gear from +the wheels to get power for the operation of the mechanism," he said aloud. + +Hugh arose and stood in the moonlight in the cabbage field, his arms still +going stiffly up and down. The great length of his figure and his arms was +accentuated by the wavering uncertain light. The laborers, aware of some +strange presence, sprang to their feet and stood listening and looking. +Hugh advanced toward them, still muttering words and waving his arms. +Terror took hold of the workers. One of the woman plant droppers screamed +and ran away across the field, and the others ran crying at her heels. +"Don't do it. Go away," the older of the French boys shouted, and then he +with his brothers also ran. + +Hearing the voices Hugh stopped and stared about. The field was empty. +Again he lost himself in his mechanical calculations. He went back along +the road to the Wheeling station and to the telegraph office where he +worked half the night on a rude drawing he was trying to make of the parts +of his plant setting machine, oblivious to the fact that he had created a +myth that would run through the whole countryside. The French boys and +their sisters stoutly declared that a ghost had come into the cabbage +fields and had threatened them with death if they did not go away and +quit working at night. In a trembling voice their mother backed up their +assertion. Ezra French, who had not seen the apparition and did not believe +the tale, scented a revolution. He swore. He threatened the entire family +with starvation. He declared that a lie had been invented to deceive and +betray him. + +However, the work at night in the cabbage fields on the French farm was at +an end. The story was told in the town of Bidwell, and as the entire French +family except Ezra swore to its truth, was generally believed. Tom Foresby, +an old citizen who was a spiritualist, claimed to have heard his father say +that there had been in early days an Indian burying-ground on the Turner +Pike. + +The cabbage field on the French farm became locally famous. Within a year +two other men declared they had seen the figure of a gigantic Indian +dancing and singing a funeral dirge in the moonlight. Farmer boys, who +had been for an evening in town and were returning late at night to +lonely farmhouses, whipped their horses into a run when they came to the +farm. When it was far behind them they breathed more freely. Although he +continued to swear and threaten, Ezra never again succeeded in getting his +family into the fields at night. In Bidwell he declared that the story of +the ghost invented by his lazy sons and daughters had ruined his chance for +making a decent living out of his farm. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Steve Hunter decided that it was time something was done to wake up his +native town. The call of the spring wind awoke something in him as in Hugh. +It came up from the south bringing rain followed by warm fair days. Robins +hopped about on the lawns before the houses on the residence streets +of Bidwell, and the air was again sweet with the pregnant sweetness of +new-plowed ground. Like Hugh, Steve walked about alone through the dark, +dimly lighted residence streets during the spring evenings, but he did not +try awkwardly to leap over creeks in the darkness or pull bushes out of +the ground, nor did he waste his time dreaming of being physically young, +clean-limbed and beautiful. + +Before the coming of his great achievements in the industrial field, Steve +had not been highly regarded in his home town. He had been a noisy boastful +youth and had been spoiled by his father. When he was twelve years old what +were called safety bicycles first came into use and for a long time he +owned the only one in town. In the evening he rode it up and down Main +Street, frightening the horses and arousing the envy of the town boys. He +learned to ride without putting his hands on the handle-bars and the other +boys began to call him Smarty Hunter and later, because he wore a stiff, +white collar that folded down over his shoulders, they gave him a girl's +name. "Hello, Susan," they shouted, "don't fall and muss your clothes." + +In the spring that marked the beginning of his great industrial adventure, +Steve was stirred by the soft spring winds into dreaming his own kind of +dreams. As he walked about through the streets, avoiding the other young +men and women, he remembered Ernestine, the daughter of the Buffalo soap +maker, and thought a great deal about the magnificence of the big stone +house in which she lived with her father. His body ached for her, but that +was a matter he felt could be managed. How he could achieve a financial +position that would make it possible for him to ask for her hand was a more +difficult problem. Since he had come back from the business college to live +in his home town, he had secretly, and at the cost of two new five dollar +dresses, arranged a physical alliance with a girl named Louise Trucker +whose father was a farm laborer, and that left his mind free for other +things. He intended to become a manufacturer, the first one in Bidwell, +to make himself a leader in the new movement that was sweeping over the +country. He had thought out what he wanted to do and it only remained to +find something for him to manufacture to put his plans through. First of +all he had selected with great care certain men he intended to ask to go in +with him. There was John Clark the banker, his own father, E. H. Hunter the +town jeweler, Thomas Butterworth the rich farmer, and young Gordon Hart, +who had a job as assistant cashier in the bank. For a month he had been +dropping hints to these men of something mysterious and important about +to happen. With the exception of his father who had infinite faith in the +shrewdness and ability of his son, the men he wanted to impress were only +amused. One day Thomas Butterworth went into the bank and stood talking the +matter over with John Clark. "The young squirt was always a Smart-Aleck +and a blow-hard," he said. "What's he up to now? What's he nudging and +whispering about?" + +As he walked in the main street of Bidwell, Steve began to acquire that +air of superiority that later made him so respected and feared. He hurried +along with a peculiarly intense absorbed look in his eyes. He saw his +fellow townsmen as through a haze, and sometimes did not see them at all. +As he went along he took papers from his pocket, read them hurriedly, and +then quickly put them away again. When he did speak--perhaps to a man who +had known him from boyhood--there was in his manner something gracious to +the edge of condescension. One morning in March he met Zebe Wilson the town +shoemaker on the sidewalk before the post-office. Steve stopped and smiled. +"Well, good morning, Mr. Wilson," he said, "and how is the quality of +leather you are getting from the tanneries now?" + +Word regarding this strange salutation ran about among the merchants and +artisans. "What's he up to now?" they asked each other. "Mr. Wilson, +indeed! Now what's wrong between that young squirt and Zebe Wilson?" + +In the afternoon, four clerks from the Main Street stores and Ed Hall the +carpenter's apprentice, who had a half day off because of rain, decided to +investigate. One by one they went along Hamilton Street to Zebe Wilson's +shop and stepped inside to repeat Steve Hunter's salutation. "Well, good +afternoon, Mr. Wilson," they said, "and how is the quality of leather you +are getting from the tanneries now?" Ed Hall, the last of the five who went +into the shop to repeat the formal and polite inquiry, barely escaped with +his life. Zebe Wilson threw a shoemaker's hammer at him and it went through +the glass in the upper part of the shop door. + +Once when Tom Butterworth and John Clark the banker were talking of the new +air of importance he was assuming, and half indignantly speculated on what +he meant by his whispered suggestion of something significant about to +happen, Steve came along Main Street past the front door of the bank. John +Clark called him in. The three men confronted each other and the jeweler's +son sensed the fact that the banker and the rich farmer were amused by +his pretensions. At once he proved himself to be what all Bidwell later +acknowledged him to be, a man who could handle men and affairs. Having at +that time nothing to support his pretensions he decided to put up a bluff. +With a wave of his hand and an air of knowing just what he was about, he +led the two men into the back room of the bank and shut the door leading +into the large room to which the general public was admitted. "You would +have thought he owned the place," John Clark afterward said with a note of +admiration in his voice to young Gordon Hart when he described what took +place in the back room. + +Steve plunged at once into what he had to say to the two solid moneyed +citizens of his town. "Well, now, look here, you two," he began earnestly. +"I'm going to tell you something, but you got to keep still." He went to +the window that looked out upon an alleyway and glanced about as though +fearful of being overheard, then sat down in the chair usually occupied by +John Clark on the rare occasions when the directors of the Bidwell bank +held a meeting. Steve looked over the heads of the two men who in spite +of themselves were beginning to be impressed. "Well," he began, "there is +a fellow out at Pickleville. You have maybe heard things said about him. +He's telegraph operator out there. Perhaps you have heard how he is always +making drawings of parts of machines. I guess everybody in town has been +wondering what he's up to." + +Steve looked at the two men and then got nervously out of the chair and +walked about the room. "That fellow is my man. I put him there," he +declared. "I didn't want to tell any one yet." + +The two men nodded and Steve became lost in the notion created in his +fancy. It did not occur to him that what he had just said was untrue. He +began to scold the two men. "Well, I suppose I'm on the wrong track there," +he said. "My man has made an invention that will bring millions in profits +to those who get into it. In Cleveland and Buffalo I'm already in touch +with big bankers. There's to be a big factory built, but you see yourself +how it is, here I'm at home. I was raised as a boy here." + +The excited young man plunged into an exposition of the spirit of the new +times. He grew bold and scolded the older men. "You know yourself that +factories are springing up everywhere, in towns all over the State," he +said. "Will Bidwell wake up? Will we have factories here? You know well +enough we won't, and I know why. It's because a man like me who was raised +here has to go to a city to get money to back his plans. If I talked to you +fellows you would laugh at me. In a few years I might make you more money +than you have made in your whole lives, but what's the use talking? I'm +Steve Hunter; you knew me when I was a kid. You'd laugh. What's the use my +trying to tell you fellows my plans?" + +Steve turned as though to go out of the room, but Tom Butterworth took hold +of his arm and led him back to a chair. "Now, you tell us what you're up +to," he demanded. In turn he grew indignant. "If you've got something to +manufacture you can get backing here as well as any place," he said. He +became convinced that the jeweler's son was telling the truth. It did not +occur to him that a Bidwell young man would dare lie to such solid men +as John Clark and himself. "You let them city bankers alone," he said +emphatically. "You tell us your story. What you got to tell?" + +In the silent little room the three men stared at each other. Tom +Butterworth and John Clark in their turn began to have dreams. They +remembered the tales they had heard of vast fortunes made quickly by men +who owned new and valuable inventions. The land was at that time full of +such tales. They were blown about on every wind. Quickly they realized that +they had made a mistake in their attitude toward Steve, and were anxious to +win his regard. They had called him into the bank to bully him and to laugh +at him. Now they were sorry. As for Steve, he only wanted to get away--to +get by himself and think. An injured look crept over his face. "Well," he +said, "I thought I'd give Bidwell a chance. There are three or four men +here. I have spoken to all of you and dropped a hint of something in the +wind, but I'm not ready to be very definite yet." + +Seeing the new look of respect in the eyes of the two men Steve became +bold. "I was going to call a meeting when I was ready," he said pompously. +"You two do what I've been doing. You keep your mouths shut. Don't go near +that telegraph operator and don't talk to a soul. If you mean business I'll +give you a chance to make barrels of money, more'n you ever dreamed of, but +don't be in a hurry." He took a bundle of letters out of his inside coat +pocket, and beat with them on the edge of the table that occupied the +center of the room. Another bold thought came into his mind. + +"I've got letters here offering me big money to take my factory either to +Cleveland or Buffalo," he declared emphatically. "It isn't money that's +hard to get. I can tell you men that. What a man wants in his home town is +respect. He don't want to be looked on as a fool because he tries to do +something to rise in the world." + + * * * * * + +Steve walked boldly out of the bank and into Main Street. When he had got +out of the presence of the two men he was frightened. "Well, I've done it. +I've made a fool of myself," he muttered aloud. In the bank he had said +that Hugh McVey the telegraph operator was his man, that he had brought +the fellow to Bidwell. What a fool he had been. In his anxiety to impress +the two older men he had told a story, the falsehood of which could be +discovered in a few minutes. Why had he not kept his dignity and waited? +There had been no occasion for being so definite. He had gone too far, had +been carried away. To be sure he had told the two men not to go near the +telegraph operator, but that would no doubt but serve to arouse their +suspicions of the thinness of his story. They would talk the matter over +and start an investigation of their own. Then they would find out he +had lied. He imagined the two men as already engaged in a whispered +conversation regarding the probability of his tale. Like most shrewd men +he had an exalted notion regarding the shrewdness of others. He walked a +little away from the bank and then turned to look back. A shiver ran over +his body. Into his mind came the sickening fear that the telegraph operator +at Pickleville was not an inventor at all. The town was full of tales, and +in the bank he had taken advantage of that fact to make an impression; +but what proof had he? No one had seen one of the inventions supposed to +have been worked out by the mysterious stranger from Missouri. There had +after all been nothing but whispered suspicions, old wives' tales, fables +invented by men who had nothing to do but loaf in the drug-store and make +up stories. + +The thought that Hugh McVey might not be an inventor overpowered him and he +put it quickly aside. He had something more immediate to think about. The +story of the bluff he had just made in the bank would be found out and the +whole town would rock with laughter at his expense. The young men of the +town did not like him. They would roll the story over on their tongues. +Ribald old fellows who had nothing else to do would take up the story with +joy and would elaborate it. Fellows like the cabbage farmer, Ezra French, +who had a talent for saying cutting things would exercise it. They would +make up imaginary inventions, grotesque, absurd inventions. Then they would +get young fellows to come to him and propose that he take them up, promote +them, and make every one rich. Men would shout jokes at him as he went +along Main Street. His dignity would be gone forever. He would be made a +fool of by the very school boys as he had been in his youth when he bought +the bicycle and rode it about before the eyes of other boys in the +evenings. + +Steve hurried out of Main Street and went over the bridge that crossed the +river into Turner's Pike. He did not know what he intended to do, but felt +there was much at stake and that he would have to do something at once. +It was a warm, cloudy day and the road that led to Pickleville was muddy. +During the night before it had rained and more rain was promised. The path +beside the road was slippery, and so absorbed was he that as he plunged +along, his feet slipped out from under him and he sat down in a small pool +of water. A farmer driving past along the road turned to laugh at him. "You +go to hell," Steve shouted. "You just mind your own business and go to +hell." + +The distracted young man tried to walk sedately along the path. The long +grass that grew beside the path wet his shoes, and his hands were wet and +muddy. Farmers turned on their wagon seats to stare at him. For some +obscure reason he could not himself understand, he was terribly afraid to +face Hugh McVey. In the bank he had been in the presence of men who were +trying to get the best of him, to make a fool of him, to have fun at his +expense. He had felt that and had resented it. The knowledge had given him +a certain kind of boldness; it had enabled his mind to make up the story +of the inventor secretly employed at his own expense and the city bankers +anxious to furnish him capital. Although he was terribly afraid of +discovery, he felt a little glow of pride at the thought of the boldness +with which he had taken the letters out of his pocket and had challenged +the two men to call his bluff. + +Steve, however, felt there was something different about the man in the +telegraph office in Pickleville. He had been in town for nearly two years +and no one knew anything about him. His silence might be indicative of +anything. He was afraid the tall silent Missourian might decide to have +nothing to do with him, and pictured himself as being brushed rudely aside, +being told to mind his own business. + +Steve knew instinctively how to handle business men. One simply created the +notion of money to be made without effort. He had done that to the two men +in the bank and it had worked. After all he had succeeded in making them +respect him. He had handled the situation. He wasn't such a fool at that +kind of a thing. The other thing he had to face might be very different. +Perhaps after all Hugh McVey was a big inventor, a man with a powerful +creative mind. It was possible he had been sent to Bidwell by a big +business man of some city. Big business men did strange, mysterious things; +they put wires out in all directions, controlled a thousand little avenues +for the creation of wealth. + +Just starting out on his own career as a man of affairs, Steve had an +overpowering respect for what he thought of as the subtlety of men of +affairs. With all the other American youths of his generation he had been +swept off his feet by the propaganda that then went on and is still going +on, and that is meant to create the illusion of greatness in connection +with the ownership of money. He did not then know and, in spite of his own +later success and his own later use of the machinery by which illusion +is created, he never found out that in an industrial world reputations +for greatness of mind are made as a Detroit manufacturer would make +automobiles. He did not know that men are employed to bring up the name +of a politician so that he may be called a statesman, as a new brand of +breakfast food that it may be sold; that most modern great men are mere +illusions sprung out of a national hunger for greatness. Some day a wise +man, one who has not read too many books but who has gone about among men, +will discover and set forth a very interesting thing about America. The +land is vast and there is a national hunger for vastness in individuals. +One wants an Illinois-sized man for Illinois, an Ohio-sized man for Ohio, +and a Texas-sized man for Texas. + +To be sure, Steve Hunter had no notion of all this. He never did get a +notion of it. The men he had already begun to think of as great and to try +to imitate were like the strange and gigantic protuberances that sometimes +grow on the side of unhealthy trees, but he did not know it. He did +not know that throughout the country, even in that early day, a system +was being built up to create the myth of greatness. At the seat of the +American Government at Washington, hordes of somewhat clever and altogether +unhealthy young men were already being employed for the purpose. In a +sweeter age many of these young men might have become artists, but they had +not been strong enough to stand against the growing strength of dollars. +They had become instead newspaper correspondents and secretaries to +politicians. All day and every day they used their minds and their talents +as writers in the making of puffs and the creating of myths concerning +the men by whom they were employed. They were like the trained sheep that +are used at great slaughter-houses to lead other sheep into the killing +pens. Having befouled their own minds for hire, they made their living by +befouling the minds of others. Already they had found out that no great +cleverness was required for the work they had to do. What was required was +constant repetition. It was only necessary to say over and over that the +man by whom they were employed was a great man. No proof had to be brought +forward to substantiate the claims they made; no great deeds had to be done +by the men who were thus made great, as brands of crackers or breakfast +food are made salable. Stupid and prolonged and insistent repetition was +what was necessary. + +As the politicians of the industrial age have created a myth about +themselves, so also have the owners of dollars, the big bankers, the +railroad manipulators, the promoters of industrial enterprise. The impulse +to do so is partly sprung from shrewdness but for the most part it is due +to a hunger within to be of some real moment in the world. Knowing that +the talent that had made them rich is but a secondary talent, and being +a little worried about the matter, they employ men to glorify it. Having +employed a man for the purpose, they are themselves children enough to +believe the myth they have paid money to have created. Every rich man in +the country unconsciously hates his press agent. + +Although he had never read a book, Steve was a constant reader of the +newspapers and had been deeply impressed by the stories he had read +regarding the shrewdness and ability of the American captains of industry. +To him they were supermen and he would have crawled on his knees before +a Gould or a Cal Price--the commanding figures among moneyed men of that +day. As he went down along Turner's Pike that day when industry was born in +Bidwell, he thought of these men and of lesser rich men of Cleveland and +Buffalo, and was afraid that in approaching Hugh he might be coming into +competition with one of these men. As he hurried along under the gray +sky, he however realized that the time for action had come and that he +must at once put the plans that he had formed in his mind to the test of +practicability; that he must at once see Hugh McVey, find out if he really +did have an invention that could be manufactured, and if he did try to +secure some kind of rights of ownership over it. "If I do not act at once, +either Tom Butterworth or John Clark will get in ahead of me," he thought. +He knew they were both shrewd capable men. Had they not become well-to-do? +Even during the talk in the bank, when they had seemed to be impressed by +his words, they might well have been making plans to get the better of him. +They would act, but he must act first. + +Steve hadn't the courage of the lie he had told. He did not have +imagination enough to understand how powerful a thing is a lie. He walked +quickly along until he came to the Wheeling Station at Pickleville, and +then, not having the courage to confront Hugh at once, went past the +station and crept in behind the deserted pickle factory that stood across +the tracks. Through a broken window at the back he climbed, and crept like +a thief across the earth floor until he came to a window that looked out +upon the station. A freight train rumbled slowly past and a farmer came to +the station to get a load of goods that had arrived by freight. George Pike +came running from his house to attend to the wants of the farmer. He went +back to his house and Steve was left alone in the presence of the man on +whom he felt all of his future depended. He was as excited as a village +girl in the presence of a lover. Through the windows of the telegraph +office he could see Hugh seated at a desk with a book before him. The +presence of the book frightened him. He decided that the mysterious +Missourian must be some strange sort of intellectual giant. He was sure +that one who could sit quietly reading hour after hour in such a lonely +isolated place could be of no ordinary clay. As he stood in the deep +shadows inside the old building and stared at the man he was trying to find +courage to approach, a citizen of Bidwell named Dick Spearsman came to the +station and going inside, talked to the telegraph operator. Steve trembled +with anxiety. The man who had come to the station was an insurance agent +who also owned a small berry farm at the edge of town. He had a son who had +gone west to take up land in the state of Kansas, and the father thought of +visiting him. He came to the station to make inquiry regarding the railroad +fare, but when Steve saw him talking to Hugh, the thought came into his +mind that John Clark or Thomas Butterworth might have sent him to the +station to make an investigation of the truth of the statements he had made +in the bank. "It would be like them to do it that way," he muttered to +himself. "They wouldn't come themselves. They would send some one they +thought I wouldn't suspect. They would play safe, damn 'em." + +Trembling with fear, Steve walked up and down in the empty factory. Cobwebs +hanging down brushed against his face and he jumped aside as though a hand +had reached out of the darkness to touch him. In the corners of the old +building shadows lurked and distorted thoughts began to come into his head. +He rolled and lighted a cigarette and then remembered that the flare of the +match could probably be seen from the station. He cursed himself for his +carelessness. Throwing the cigarette on the earth floor he ground it under +his heel. When at last Dick Spearsman had disappeared up the road that led +to Bidwell and he came out of the old factory and got again into Turner's +Pike, he felt that he was in no shape to talk of business but nevertheless +must act at once. In front of the factory he stopped in the road and tried +to wipe the mud off the seat of his trousers with a handkerchief. Then he +went to the creek and washed his soiled hands. With wet hands he arranged +his tie and straightened the collar of his coat. He had an air of one +about to ask a woman to become his wife. Striving to look as important and +dignified as possible, he went along the station platform and into the +telegraph office to confront Hugh and to find out at once and finally what +fate the gods had in store for him. + + * * * * * + +It no doubt contributed to Steve's happiness in after life, in the days +when he was growing rich, and later when he reached out for public honors, +contributed to campaign funds, and even in secret dreamed of getting into +the United States Senate or being Governor of his state, that he never knew +how badly he overreached himself that day in his youth when he made his +first business deal with Hugh at the Wheeling Station at Pickleville. Later +Hugh's interest in the Steven Hunter industrial enterprises was taken care +of by a man who was as shrewd as Steve himself. Tom Butterworth, who had +made money and knew how to make and handle money, managed such things for +the inventor, and Steve's chance was gone forever. + +That is, however, a part of the story of the development of the town of +Bidwell and a story that Steve never understood. When he overreached +himself that day he did not know what he had done. He made a deal with Hugh +and was happy to escape the predicament he thought he had got himself into +when he talked too much to the two men in the bank. + +Although Steve's father had always a great faith in his son's shrewdness +and when he talked to other men represented him as a peculiarly capable and +unappreciated man, the two did not in private get on well. In the Hunter +household they quarreled and snarled at each other. Steve's mother had died +when he was a small boy and his one sister, two years older than himself, +kept herself always in the house and seldom appeared on the streets. She +was a semi-invalid. Some obscure nervous disease had twisted her body out +of shape, and her face twitched incessantly. One morning in the barn back +of the Hunter house Steve, then a lad of fourteen, was oiling his bicycle +when his sister appeared and stood watching him. A small wrench lay on the +ground and she picked it up. Suddenly and without warning she began to beat +him on the head. He was compelled to knock her down in order to tear the +wrench out of her hand. After the incident she was ill in bed for a month. + +Elsie Hunter was always a source of unhappiness to her brother. As he began +to get up in life Steve had a growing passion for being respected by his +fellows. It got to be something of an obsession with him and among other +things he wanted very much to be thought of as one who had good blood in +his veins. A man whom he hired searched out his ancestry, and with the +exception of his immediate family it seemed very satisfactory. The sister, +with her twisted body and her face that twitched so persistently, seemed +to be everlastingly sneering at him. He grew half afraid to come into her +presence. After he began to grow rich he married Ernestine, the daughter of +the soap maker at Buffalo, and when her father died she also had a great +deal of money. His own father died and he set up a household of his own. +That was in the time when big houses began to appear at the edge of the +berry lands and on the hills south of Bidwell. On his father's death Steve +became guardian for his sister. The jeweler had left a small estate and it +was entirely in the son's hands. Elsie lived with one servant in a small +house in town and was put in the position of being entirely dependent on +her brother's bounty. In a sense it might be said that she lived by her +hatred of him. When on rare occasions he came to her house she would not +see him. A servant came to the door and reported her asleep. Almost every +month she wrote a letter demanding that her share of her father's money +be handed over to her, but it did no good. Steve occasionally spoke to an +acquaintance of his difficulty with her. "I am more sorry for the woman +than I can say," he declared. "It's the dream of my life to make the poor +afflicted soul happy. You see yourself that I provide her with every +comfort of life. Ours is an old family. I have it from an expert in such +matters that we are descendants of one Hunter, a courtier in the court of +Edward the Second of England. Our blood has perhaps become a little thin. +All the vitality of the family was centered in me. My sister does not +understand me and that has been the cause of much unhappiness and heart +burning, but I shall always do my duty by her." + +In the late afternoon of the spring day that was also the most eventful day +of his life, Steve went quickly along the Wheeling Station platform to the +door of the telegraph office. It was a public place, but before going in +he stopped, again straightened his tie and brushed his clothes, and then +knocked at the door. As there was no response he opened the door softly +and looked in. Hugh was at his desk but did not look up. Steve went in and +closed the door. By chance the moment of his entrance was also a big moment +in the life of the man he had come to see. The mind of the young inventor, +that had for so long been dreamy and uncertain, had suddenly become +extraordinarily clear and free. One of the inspired moments that come to +intense natures, working intensely, had come to him. The mechanical problem +he was trying so hard to work out became clear. It was one of the moments +that Hugh afterwards thought of as justifying his existence, and in later +life he came to live for such moments. With a nod of his head to Steve he +arose and hurried out to the building that was used by the Wheeling as +a freight warehouse. The jeweler's son ran at his heels. On an elevated +platform before the freight warehouse sat an odd looking agricultural +implement, a machine for rooting potatoes out of the ground that had been +received on the day before and was now awaiting delivery to some farmer. +Hugh dropped to his knees beside the machine and examined it closely. +Muttered exclamations broke from his lips. For the first time in his life +he was not embarrassed in the presence of another person. The two men, +the one almost grotesquely tall, the other short of stature and already +inclined toward corpulency, stared at each other. "What is it you're +inventing? I came to see you about that," Steve said timidly. + +Hugh did not answer the question directly. He stepped across the narrow +platform to the freight warehouse and began to make a rude drawing on the +side of the building. Then he tried to explain his plant-setting machine. +He spoke of it as a thing already achieved. At the moment he thought of it +in that way. "I had not thought of the use of a large wheel with the arms +attached at regular intervals," he said absent-mindedly. "I will have to +find money now. That'll be the next step. It will be necessary to make a +working model of the machine now. I must find out what changes I'll have to +make in my calculations." + +The two men returned to the telegraph office and while Hugh listened Steve +made his proposal. Even then he did not understand what the machine that +was to be made was to do. It was enough for him that a machine was to be +made and he wanted to share in its ownership at once. As the two men walked +back from the freight warehouse, his mind took hold of Hugh's remark about +getting money. Again he was afraid. "There's some one in the background," +he thought. "Now I must make a proposal he can't refuse. I mustn't leave +until I've made a deal with him." + +Fairly carried away by his anxiety, Steve proposed to provide money out of +his own pocket to make the model of the machine. "We'll rent the old pickle +factory across the track," he said, opening the door and pointing with a +trembling finger. "I can get it cheap. I'll have windows and a floor put +in. Then I'll get you a man to whittle out a model of the machine. Allie +Mulberry can do it. I'll get him for you. He can whittle anything if you +only show him what you want. He's half crazy and won't get on to our +secret. When the model is made, leave it to me, you just leave it to me." + +Rubbing his hands together Steve walked boldly to The telegrapher's desk +and picking up a sheet of paper began to write out a contract. It provided +that Hugh Was to get a royalty of ten per cent. of the selling price on the +machine he had invented and that was to be manufactured by a company to +be organized by Steven Hunter. The contract also stated that a promoting +company was to be organized at once and money provided for the experimental +work Hugh had yet to do. The Missourian was to begin getting a salary at +once. He was to risk nothing, as Steve elaborately explained. When he was +ready for them mechanics were to be employed and their salaries paid. When +the contract had been written and read aloud, a copy was made and Hugh, who +was again embarrassed beyond words, signed his name. + +With a flourish of his hand Steve laid a little pile of money on the desk. +"That's for a starter," he said and turned to frown at George Pike who at +that moment came to the door. The freight agent went quickly away and the +two men were left alone together. Steve shook hands with his new partner. +He went out and then came in again. "You understand," he said mysteriously. +"The fifty dollars is your first month's salary. I was ready for you. I +brought it along. You just leave everything to me, just you leave it to +me." Again he went out and Hugh was left alone. He saw the young man go +across the tracks to the old factory and walk up and down before it. When a +farmer came along and shouted at him, he did not reply, but stepping back +into the road swept the deserted old building with his eyes as a general +might have looked over a battlefield. Then he went briskly down the road +toward town and the farmer turned on his wagon seat to stare after him. + +Hugh McVey also stared. When Steve had gone away, he walked to the end +of the station platform and looked along the road toward town. It seemed +to him wonderful that he had at last held conversation with a citizen +of Bidwell. A little of the import of the contract he had signed came to +him, and he went into the station and got his copy of it and put it in his +pocket. Then he came out again. When he read it over and realized anew that +he was to be paid a living wage and have time and help to work out the +problem that had now become vastly important to his happiness, it seemed +to him that he had been in the presence of a kind of god. He remembered +the words of Sarah Shepard concerning the bright alert citizens of eastern +towns and realized that he had been in the presence of such a being, that +he had in some way become connected in his new work with such a one. The +realization overcame him completely. Forgetting entirely his duties as a +telegrapher, he closed the office and went for a walk across the meadows +and in the little patches of woodlands that still remained standing in the +open plain north of Pickleville. He did not return until late at night, and +when he did, had not solved the puzzle as to what had happened. All he got +out of it was the fact that the machine he had been trying to make was of +great and mysterious importance to the civilization into which he had come +to live and of which he wanted so keenly to be a part. There seemed to him +something almost sacred in that fact. A new determination to complete and +perfect his plant-setting machine had taken possession of him. + + * * * * * + +The meeting to organize a promotion company that would in turn launch the +first industrial enterprise in the town of Bidwell was held in the back +room of the Bidwell bank one afternoon in June. The berry season had just +come to an end and the streets were full of people. A circus had come to +town and at one o'clock there was a parade. Before the stores horses +belonging to visiting country people stood hitched in two long rows. The +meeting in the bank was not held until four o'clock, when the banking +business was at an end for the day. It had been a hot, stuffy afternoon +and a storm threatened. For some reason the whole town had an inkling of +the fact that a meeting was to be held on that day, and in spite of the +excitement caused by the coming of the circus, it was in everybody's mind. +From the very beginning of his upward journey in life, Steve Hunter had +the faculty of throwing an air of mystery and importance about everything +he did. Every one saw the workings of the machinery by which the myth +concerning himself was created, but was nevertheless impressed. Even the +men of Bidwell who retained the ability to laugh at Steve could not laugh +at the things he did. + +For two months before the day on which the meeting was held, the town had +been on edge. Every one knew that Hugh McVey had suddenly given up his +place in the telegraph office and that he was engaged in some enterprise +with Steve Hunter. "Well, I see he has thrown off the mask, that fellow," +said Alban Foster, superintendent of the Bidwell schools, in speaking of +the matter to the Reverend Harvey Oxford, the minister of the Baptist +Church. + +Steve saw to it that although every one was curious the curiosity was +unsatisfied. Even his father was left in the dark. The two men had a sharp +quarrel about the matter, but as Steve had three thousand dollars of his +own, left him by his mother, and was well past his twenty-first year, there +was nothing his father could do. + +At Pickleville the windows and doors at the back of the deserted factory +were bricked up, and over the windows and the door at the front, where a +floor had been laid, iron bars specially made by Lew Twining the Bidwell +blacksmith had been put. The bars over the door locked the place at night +and gave the factory the air of a prison. Every evening before he went to +bed Steve walked to Pickleville. The sinister appearance of the building +at night gave him a peculiar satisfaction. "They'll find out what I'm up +to when I want 'em to," he said to himself. Allie Mulberry worked at the +factory during the day. Under Hugh's direction he whittled pieces of wood +into various shapes, but had no idea of what he was doing. No one but the +half-wit and Steve Hunter were admitted to the society of the telegraph +operator. When Allie Mulberry came into the Main Street at night, every +one stopped him and a thousand questions were asked, but he only shook his +head and smiled foolishly. On Sunday afternoons crowds of men and women +walked down Turner's Pike to Pickleville and stood looking at the deserted +building, but no one tried to enter. The bars were in place and window +shades were drawn over the windows. Above the door that faced the road +there was a large sign. "Keep Out. This Means You," the sign said. + +The four men who met Steve in the bank knew vaguely that some sort of +invention was being perfected, but did not know what it was. They spoke +in an offhand way of the matter to their friends and that increased the +general curiosity. Every one tried to guess what was up. When Steve was not +about, John Clark and young Gordon Hart pretended to know everything but +gave the impression of men sworn to secrecy. The fact that Steve told them +nothing seemed to them a kind of insult. "The young upstart, I believe yet +he's a bluff," the banker declared to his friend, Tom Butterworth. + +On Main Street the old and young men who stood about before the stores in +the evening tried also to make light of the jeweler's son and the air of +importance he constantly assumed. They also spoke of him as a young upstart +and a windbag, but after the beginning of his connection with Hugh McVey, +something of conviction went out of their voices. "I read in the paper that +a man in Toledo made thirty thousand dollars out of an invention. He got it +up in less than a day. He just thought of it. It's a new kind of way for +sealing fruit cans," a man in the crowd before Birdie Spink's drug store +absent-mindedly observed. + +Inside the drug store by the empty stove, Judge Hanby talked persistently +of the time when factories would come. He seemed to those who listened a +sort of John the Baptist crying out of the coming of the new day. One +evening in May of that year, when a goodly crowd was assembled, Steve +Hunter came in and bought a cigar. Every one became silent. Birdie Spinks +was for some mysterious reason a little upset. In the store something +happened that, had there been some one there to record it, might later have +been remembered as the moment that marked the coming of the new age to +Bidwell. The druggist, after he had handed out the cigar, looked at the +young man whose name had so suddenly come upon every one's lips and whom he +had known from babyhood, and then addressed him as no young man of his age +had ever before been addressed by an older citizen of the town. "Well, good +evening, Mr. Hunter," he said respectfully. "And how do you find yourself +this evening?" + +To the men who met him in the bank, Steve described the plant-setting +machine and the work it was intended to do. "It's the most perfect thing +of its kind I've ever seen," he said with the air of one who has spent +his life as an expert examiner of machinery. Then, to the amazement of +every one, he produced sheets covered with figures estimating the cost +of manufacturing the machine. To the men present it seemed as though the +question as to the practicability of the machine had already been settled. +The sheets covered with figures made the actual beginning of manufacturing +seem near at hand. Without raising his voice and quite as a matter of +course, Steve proposed that the men present subscribe each three thousand +dollars to the stock of a promotion company, the money to be used to +perfect the machine and put it actually to work in the fields, while a +larger company for the building of a factory was being organized. For the +three thousand dollars each of the men would receive later six thousand +dollars in stock in the larger company. They would make one hundred per +cent. on their first investment. As for himself he owned the invention and +it was very valuable. He had already received many offers from other men +in other places. He wanted to stick to his own town and to the men who had +known him since he was a boy. He would retain a controlling interest in the +larger company and that would enable him to take care of his friends. John +Clark he proposed to make treasurer of the promotion company. Every one +could see he would be the right man. Gordon Hart should be manager. Tom +Butterworth could, if he could find time to give it, help him in the actual +organization of the larger company. He did not propose to do anything in +a small way. Much stock would have to be sold to farmers, as well as to +townspeople, and he could see no reason why a certain commission for the +selling of stock should not be paid. + +The four men came out of the back room of the bank just as the storm that +had all day been threatening broke on Main Street. They stood together by +the front window and watched the people skurry along past the stores +homeward-bound from the circus. Farmers jumping into their wagons started +their horses away on the trot. The whole street was populous with people +shouting and running. To an observing person standing at the bank window, +Bidwell, Ohio, might have seemed no longer a quiet town filled with people +who lived quiet lives and thought quiet thoughts, but a tiny section of +some giant modern city. The sky was extraordinarily black as from the smoke +of a mill. The hurrying people might have been workmen escaping from the +mill at the end of the day. Clouds of dust swept through the street. Steve +Hunter's imagination was aroused. For some reason the black clouds of dust +and the running people gave him a tremendous sense of power. It almost +seemed to him that he had filled the sky with clouds and that something +latent in him had startled the people. He was anxious to get away from +the men who had just agreed to join him in his first great industrial +adventure. He felt that they were after all mere puppets, creatures he +could use, men who were being swept along by him as the people running +along the streets were being swept along by the storm. He and the storm +were in a way akin to each other. He had an impulse to be alone with the +storm, to walk dignified and upright in the face of it as he felt that in +the future he would walk dignified and upright in the face of men. + +Steve went out of the bank and into the street. The men inside shouted +at him, telling him he would get wet, but he paid no attention to their +warning. When he had gone and when his father had run quickly across the +street to his jewelry store, the three men who were left in the bank +looked at each other and laughed. Like the loiterers before Birdie Spinks' +drug-store, they wanted to belittle him and had an inclination to begin +calling him names; but for some reason they could not do it. Something had +happened to them. They looked at each other with a question in their eyes. +Each man waited for the others to speak. "Well, whatever happens we can't +lose much of anything," John Clark finally observed. + +And over the bridge and out into Turner's Pike walked Steve Hunter, the +embryo industrial magnate. Across the great stretches of fields that lay +beside the road the wind ran furiously, tearing leaves off trees, carrying +great volumes of dust before it. The hurrying black clouds in the sky were, +he fancied, like clouds of smoke pouring out of the chimneys of factories +owned by himself. In fancy also he saw his town become a city, bathed in +the smoke of his enterprises. As he looked abroad over the fields swept by +the storm of wind, he realized that the road along which he walked would in +time become a city street. "Pretty soon I'll get an option on this land," +he said meditatively. An exalted mood took possession of him and when +he got to Pickleville he did not go into the shop where Hugh and Allie +Mulberry were at work, but turning, walked back toward town in the mud and +the driving rain. + +It was a time when Steve wanted to be by himself, to feel himself the one +great man of the community. He had intended to go into the old pickle +factory and escape the rain, but when he got to the railroad tracks, had +turned back because he realized suddenly that in the presence of the +silent, intent inventor he had never been able to feel big. He wanted to +feel big on that evening and so, unmindful of the rain and of his hat, +that was caught up by the wind and blown away into a field, he went along +the deserted road thinking great thoughts. At a place where there were no +houses he stopped for a moment and lifted his tiny hands to the skies. "I'm +a man. I tell you what, I'm a man. Whatever any one says, I tell you what, +I'm a man," he shouted into the void. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +Modern men and women who live in industrial cities are like mice that have +come out of the fields to live in houses that do not belong to them. They +live within the dark walls of the houses where only a dim light penetrates, +and so many have come that they grow thin and haggard with the constant +toil of getting food and warmth. Behind the walls the mice scamper about +in droves, and there is much squealing and chattering. Now and then a bold +mouse stands upon his hind legs and addresses the others. He declares he +will force his way through the walls and conquer the gods who have built +the house. "I will kill them," he declares. "The mice shall rule. You shall +live in the light and the warmth. There shall be food for all and no one +shall go hungry." + +The little mice, gathered in the darkness out of sight in the great houses, +squeal with delight. After a time when nothing happens they become sad and +depressed. Their minds go back to the time when they lived in the fields, +but they do not go out of the walls of the houses, because long living in +droves has made them afraid of the silence of long nights and the emptiness +of skies. In the houses giant children are being reared. When the children +fight and scream in the houses and in the streets, the dark spaces between +the walls rumble with strange and appalling noises. + +The mice are terribly afraid. Now and then a single mouse for a moment +escapes the general fear. A mood comes over such a one and a light comes +into his eyes. When the noises run through the houses he makes up stories +about them. "The horses of the sun are hauling wagon loads of days over +the tops of trees," he says and looks quickly about to see if he has been +heard. When he discovers a female mouse looking at him he runs away with +a flip of his tail and the female follows. While other mice are repeating +his saying and getting some little comfort from it, he and the female mouse +find a warm dark corner and lie close together. It is because of them that +mice continue to be born to dwell within the walls of the houses. + +When the first small model of Hugh McVey's plant-setting machine had been +whittled out by the half-wit Allie Mulberry, it replaced the famous ship, +floating in the bottle, that for two or three years had been lying in the +window of Hunter's jewelry store. Allie was inordinately proud of the new +specimen of his handiwork. As he worked under Hugh's directions at a bench +in a corner of the deserted pickle factory, he was like a strange dog that +has at last found a master. He paid no attention to Steve Hunter who, with +the air of one bearing in his breast some gigantic secret, came in and +went out at the door twenty times a day, but kept his eyes on the silent +Hugh who sat at a desk and made drawings on sheets of paper. Allie tried +valiantly to follow the instructions given him and to understand what his +master was trying to do, and Hugh, finding himself unembarrassed by the +presence of the half-wit, sometimes spent hours trying to explain the +workings of some intricate part of the proposed machine. Hugh made each +part crudely out of great pieces of board and Allie reproduced the part in +miniature. Intelligence began to come into the eyes of the man who all his +life had whittled meaningless wooden chains, baskets formed out of peach +stones, and ships intended to float in bottles. Love and understanding +began a little to do for him what words could not have done. One day when a +part Hugh had fashioned would not work the half-wit himself made the model +of a part that worked perfectly. When Hugh incorporated it in the machine, +he was so happy that he could not sit still, and walked up and down cooing +with delight. + +When the model of the machine appeared in the jeweler's window, a fever of +excitement took hold of the minds of the people. Every one declared himself +either for or against it. Something like a revolution took place. Parties +were formed. Men who had no interest in the success of the invention, and +in the nature of things could not have, were ready to fight any one who +dared to doubt its success. Among the farmers who drove into town to see +the new wonder were many who said the machine would not, could not, work. +"It isn't practical," they said. Going off by themselves and forming +groups, they whispered warnings. A hundred objections sprang to their lips. +"See all the little wheels and cogs the thing has," they said. "You see +it won't work. You take now in a field where there are stones and old +tree roots, maybe, sticking in the ground. There you'll see. Fools'll buy +the machine, yes. They'll spend their money. They'll put in plants. The +plants'll die. The money'll be wasted. There'll be no crop." Old men, who +had been cabbage farmers in the country north of Bidwell all their lives, +and whose bodies were all twisted out of shape by the terrible labor of +the cabbage fields, came hobbling into town to look at the model of the +new machine. Their opinions were anxiously sought by the merchant, the +carpenter, the artisan, the doctor--by all the townspeople. Almost without +exception, they shook their heads in doubt. Standing on the sidewalk before +the jeweler's window, they stared at the machine and then, turning to the +crowd that had gathered about, they shook their heads in doubt. "Huh," they +exclaimed, "a thing of wheels and cogs, eh? Well, so young Hunter expects +that thing to take the place of a man. He's a fool. I always said that boy +was a fool." The merchants and townspeople, their ardor a little dampened +by the adverse decision of the men who knew plant-setting, went off by +themselves. They went into Birdie Spinks' drugstore, but did not listen +to the talk of Judge Hanby. "If the machine works, the town'll wake up," +some one declared. "It means factories, new people coming in, houses to +be built, goods to be bought." Visions of suddenly acquired wealth began +to float in their minds. Young Ed Hall, apprentice to Ben Peeler the +carpenter, grew angry. "Hell," he exclaimed, "why listen to a lot of damned +old calamity howlers? It's the town's duty to get out and plug for that +machine. We got to wake up here. We got to forget what we used to think +about Steve Hunter. Anyway, he saw a chance, didn't he? and he took it. +I wish I was him. I only wish I was him. And what about that fellow we +thought was maybe just a telegraph operator? He fooled us all slick, now +didn't he? I tell you we ought to be proud to have such men as him and +Steve Hunter living in Bidwell. That's what I say. I tell you it's the +town's duty to get out and plug for them and for that machine. If we don't, +I know what'll happen. Steve Hunter's a live one. I been thinking maybe he +was. He'll take that invention and that inventor of his to some other town +or to a city. That's what he'll do. Damn it, I tell you we got to get out +and back them fellows up. That's what I say." + +On the whole the town of Bidwell agreed with young Hall. The excitement +did not die, but grew every day more intense. Steve Hunter had a carpenter +come to his father's store and build in the show window facing Main +Street, a long shallow box formed in the shape of a field. This he filled +with pulverized earth and then by an arrangement of strings and pulleys +connected with a clockwork device the machine was pulled across the field. +In a receptacle at the top of the machine had been placed some dozens of +tiny plants no larger than pins. When the clockwork was started and the +strings pulled to imitate applied horse power, the machine crept slowly +forward, an arm came down and made a hole in the ground, the plant dropped +into the hole and spoon-like hands appeared and packed the earth about the +plant roots. At the top of the machine there was a tank filled with water, +and when the plant was set, a portion of water, nicely calculated as to +quantity, ran down a pipe and was deposited at the plant roots. + +Evening after evening the machine crawled forward across the tiny field, +setting the plants in perfect order. Steve Hunter busied himself with it; +he did nothing else; and rumors of a great company to be formed in Bidwell +to manufacture the device were whispered about. Every evening a new tale +was told. Steve went to Cleveland for a day and it was said that Bidwell +was to lose its chance, that big moneyed men had induced Steve to take his +factory project to the city. Hearing Ed Hall berate a farmer who doubted +the practicability of the machine, Steve took him aside and talked to him. +"We're going to need live young men who know how to handle other men for +jobs as superintendent and things like that," he said. "I make no promises. +I only want to tell you that I like live young fellows who can see the hole +in a bushel basket. I like that kind. I like to see them get up in the +world." + +Steve heard the farmers continually expressing their skepticism about +making the plants that had been set by the machine grow into maturity, and +had the carpenter build another tiny field in a side window of the store. +He had the machine moved and plants set in the new field. He let these +grow. When some of the plants showed signs of dying he came secretly at +night and replaced them with sturdier shoots so that the miniature field +showed always a brave, vigorous front to the world. + +Bidwell became convinced that the most rigorous of all forms of human labor +practiced by its people was at an end. Steve made and had hung in the store +window a large sheet showing the relative cost of planting an acre of +cabbage with the machine, and by what was already called "the old way," by +hand. Then he formally announced that a stock company would be formed in +Bidwell and that every one would have a chance to get into it. He printed +an article in the weekly paper in which he said that many offers had come +to him to take his project to the city or to other and larger towns. +"Mr. McVey, the celebrated inventor, and I both want to stick to our own +people," he said, regardless of the fact that Hugh knew nothing of the +article and had never been taken into the lives of the people addressed. +A day was set for the beginning of the taking of stock subscriptions, and +in private conversations Steve whispered of huge profits to be made. The +matter was talked over in every household and plans were made for raising +money to buy stock. John Clark agreed to lend a certain percentage on the +value of the town property and Steve secured a long-time option on all the +land facing Turner's Pike clear down to Pickleville. When the town heard +of this it was filled with wonder. "Gee," the loiterers before the store +exclaimed, "old Bidwell is going to grow up. Now look at that, will you? +There are going to be houses clear down to Pickleville." Hugh went to +Cleveland to see about having one of his new machines made in steel and +wood and in a size that would permit its actual use in the field. He +returned, a hero in the town's eyes. His silence made it possible for the +people, who could not entirely forget their former lack of faith in Steve, +to let their minds take hold of something they thought was truly heroic. + +In the evening, after going again to see the machine in the window of the +jewelry store, crowds of young and old men wandered down along Turner's +Pike to the Wheeling Station where a new man had come to replace Hugh. +They hardly saw the evening train when it came in. Like devotees before +a shrine they gazed with something like worship in their eyes at the old +pickle factory, and when by chance Hugh came among them, unconscious of +the sensation he was creating, they became embarrassed as he was always +embarrassed by their presence. Every one dreamed of becoming suddenly rich +by the power of the man's mind. They thought of him as thinking always +great thoughts. To be sure, Steve Hunter might be more than half bluff and +blow and pretense, but there was no bluff and blow about Hugh. He didn't +waste his time in words. He thought, and out of his thought sprang almost +unbelievable wonders. + +In every part of the town of Bidwell, the new impulse toward progress was +felt. Old men, who had become settled in their ways and who had begun to +pass their days in a sort of sleepy submission to the idea of the gradual +passing away of their lives, awoke and went into Main Street in the +evening to argue with skeptical farmers. Beside Ed Hall, who had become a +Demosthenes on the subject of progress and the duty of the town to awake +and stick to Steve Hunter and the machine, a dozen other men held forth on +the street corners. Oratorical ability awoke in the most unexpected places. +Rumors flew from lip to lip. It was said that within a year Bidwell was to +have a brick factory covering acres of ground, that there would be paved +streets and electric lights. + +Oddly enough the most persistent decrier of the new spirit in Bidwell was +the man who, if the machine turned out to be a success, would profit most +from its use. Ezra French, the profane, refused to be convinced. When +pressed by Ed Hall, Dr. Robinson, and other enthusiasts, he fell back upon +the word of that God whose name had been so much upon his lips. The decrier +of God became the defender of God. "The thing, you see, can't be done. +It ain't all right. Something awful'll happen. The rains won't come and +the plants'll dry up and die. It'll be like it was in Egypt in the Bible +times," he declared. The old farmer with the twisted leg stood before the +crowd in the drug-store and proclaimed the truth of God's word. "Don't it +say in the Bible men shall work and labor by the sweat of their brows?" he +asked sharply. "Can a machine like that sweat? You know it can't. And it +can't do the work either. No, siree. Men've got to do it. That's the way +things have been since Cain killed Abel in the Garden of Eden. God intended +it so and there can't no telegraph operator or no smart young squirt like +Steve Hunter--fellows in a town like this--set themselves up before me to +change the workings of God's laws. It can't be done, and if it could be +done it would be wicked and ungodly to try. I'll have nothing to do with +it. It ain't right. That's what I say and all your smart talk ain't a-going +to change me." + +It was in the year 1892 that Steve Hunter organized the first industrial +enterprise that came to Bidwell. It was called the Bidwell Plant-Setting +Machine Company, and in the end it turned out to be a failure. A large +factory was built on the river bank facing the New York Central tracks. It +is now occupied by an enterprise called the Hunter Bicycle Company and is +what in industrial parlance is called a live, going concern. + +For two years Hugh worked faithfully trying to perfect the first of his +inventions. After the working models of the plant-setter were brought from +Cleveland, two trained mechanics were employed to come to Bidwell and work +with him. In the old pickle factory an engine was installed and lathes and +other tool-making machines were set up. For a long time Steve, John Clark, +Tom Butterworth, and the other enthusiastic promoters of the enterprise had +no doubt as to the final outcome. Hugh wanted to perfect the machine, had +his heart set on doing the job he had set out to do, but he had then and, +for that matter, he continued during his whole life to have but little +conception of the import in the lives of the people about him of the things +he did. Day after day, with two city mechanics and Allie Mulberry to drive +the team of horses Steve had provided, he went into a rented field north of +the factory. Weak places developed in the complicated mechanism, and new +and stronger parts were made. For a time the machine worked perfectly. Then +other defects appeared and other parts had to be strengthened and changed. +The machine became too heavy to be handled by one team. It would not work +when the soil was either too wet or too dry. It worked perfectly in both +wet and dry sand but would do nothing in clay. During the second year +and when the factory was nearing completion and much machinery had been +installed, Hugh went to Steve and told him of what he thought were the +limitations of the machine. He was depressed by his failure, but in working +with the machine, he felt he had succeeded in educating himself as he never +could have done by studying books. Steve decided that the factory should be +started and some of the machines made and sold. "You keep the two men you +have and don't talk," he said. "The machine may yet turn out to be better +than you think. One can never tell. I have made it worth their while +to keep still." On the afternoon of the day on which he had his talk +with Hugh, Steve called the four men who were associated with him in the +promotion of the enterprise into the back room of the bank and told them of +the situation. "We're up against something here," he said. "If we let word +of the failure of this machine get out, where'll we be? It is a case of the +survival of the fittest." + +Steve explained his plan to the men in the room. After all, he said, there +was no occasion for any of them to get excited. He had taken them into the +thing and he proposed to get them out. "I'm that kind of a man," he said +pompously. In a way, he declared, he was glad things had turned out as +they had. The four men had little actual money invested. They had all +tried honestly to do something for the town and he would see to it that +everything came out all right. "We'll be honest with every one," he said. +"The stock in the company has all been sold. We'll make some of the +machines and sell them. If they're failures, as this inventor thinks, it +will not be our fault. The plant, you see, will have to be sold cheap. When +that times comes we five will have to save ourselves and the future of the +town. The machinery we have bought, is, you see, iron and wood working +machinery, the very latest kind. It can be used to make some other thing. +If the plant-setting machine is a failure we'll simply buy up the plant at +a low price and make something else. Perhaps it'll be better for the town +to have the entire stock control in our hands. You see we few men have got +to run things here. It's going to be on our shoulders to see that labor is +employed. A lot of small stock-holders are a nuisance. As man to man I'm +going to ask each of you not to sell his stock, but if any one comes to you +and asks about its value, I expect you to be loyal to our enterprise. I'll +begin looking about for something to replace the plant-setting machine, and +when the shop closes we'll start right up again. It isn't every day men get +a chance to sell themselves a fine plant full of new machinery as we can do +in a year or so now." + +Steve went out of the bank and left the four men staring at each other. +Then his father got up and went out. The other men, all connected with the +bank, arose and wandered out. "Well," said John Clark, somewhat heavily, +"he's a smart man. I suppose after all it is up to us to stick with him +and with the town. As he says, labor has got to be employed. I can't see +that it does a carpenter or a farmer any good to own a little stock in a +factory. It only takes their minds off their work. They have foolish dreams +of getting rich and don't attend to their own affairs. It would be an +actual benefit to the town if a few men owned the factory." The banker +lighted a cigar and going to a window stared out into the main street of +Bidwell. Already the town had changed. Three new brick buildings were being +erected on Main Street within sight of the bank window. Workmen employed in +the building of the factory had come to town to live, and many new houses +were being built. Everywhere things were astir. The stock of the company +had been oversubscribed, and almost every day men came into the bank and +spoke of wanting to buy more. Only the day before a farmer had come in with +two thousand dollars. The banker's mind began to secrete the poison of his +age. "After all, it's men like Steve Hunter, Tom Butterworth, Gordon Hart, +and myself that have to take care of things, and to be in shape to do it +we have to look out for ourselves," he soliloquized. Again he stared into +Main Street. Tom Butterworth went out at the front door. He wanted to be by +himself and think his own thoughts. Gordon Hart returned to the empty back +room and standing by a window looked out into an alleyway. His thoughts +ran in the same channel as those that played through the mind of the bank +president. He also thought of men who wanted to buy stock in the company +that was doomed to failure. He began to doubt the judgment of Hugh McVey +in the matter of failure. "Such fellows are always pessimists," he told +himself. From the window at the back of the bank, he could see over the +roofs of a row of small sheds and down a residence street to where two +new workingmen's houses were being built. His thoughts only differed from +the thoughts of John Clark because he was a younger man. "A few men of +the younger generation, like Steve and myself will have to take hold of +things," he muttered aloud. "We'll have to have money to work with. We'll +have to take the responsibility of the ownership of money." + +At the front of the bank John Clark puffed at his cigar. He felt like a +soldier weighing the chances of battle. Vaguely he thought of himself as +a general, a kind of U. S. Grant of industry. The lives and happiness of +many people, he told himself, depended on the clear working of his brain. +"Well," he thought, "when factories start coming to a town and it begins to +grow as this town is growing no man can stop it. The fellow who thinks of +individual men, little fellows with their savings invested, who may be hurt +by an industrial failure, is just a weakling. Men have to face the duties +life brings. The few men who see clearly have to think first of themselves. +They have to save themselves in order that they may save others." + + * * * * * + +Things kept on the stir in Bidwell and the gods of chance played into the +hands of Steve Hunter. Hugh invented an apparatus for lifting a loaded +coal-car off the railroad tracks, carrying it high up into the air and +dumping its contents into a chute. By its use an entire car of coal could +be emptied with a roaring rush into the hold of a ship or the engine room +of a factory. A model of the new invention was made and a patent secured. +Then Steve Hunter carried it off to New York. He received two hundred +thousand dollars in cash for it, half of which went to Hugh. Steve's faith +in the inventive genius of the Missourian was renewed and strengthened. He +looked forward with a feeling almost approaching pleasure to the time when +the town would be forced to face the fact that the plant-setting machine +was a failure, and the factory with its new machinery would have to be +thrown on the market. He knew that his associates in the promotion of the +enterprise were secretly selling their stock. One day he went to Cleveland +and had a long talk with a banker there. Hugh was at work on a corn-cutting +machine and already he had secured an option on it. "Perhaps when the +time comes to sell the factory there'll be more than one bidder," he told +Ernestine, the soap maker's daughter, who had married him within a month +after the sale of the car-unloading device. He grew indignant when he told +her of the disloyalty of the two men in the bank, and the rich farmer, +Tom Butterworth. "They're selling their shares and letting the small +stock-holders lose their money," he declared. "I told 'em not to do it. Now +if anything happens to spoil their plans they'll not have me to blame." + +Nearly a year had been spent in stirring up the people of Bidwell to the +point of becoming investors. Then things began to stir. The ground was +broken for the erection of the factory. No one knew of the difficulties +that had been encountered in attempting to perfect the machine and word +was passed about that in actual tests in the fields it had proven itself +entirely practical. The skeptical farmers who came into town on Saturdays +were laughed at by the town enthusiasts. A field, that had been planted +during one of the brief periods when the machine finding ideal soil +conditions had worked perfectly, was left to grow. As when he operated +the tiny model in the store window, Steve took no chances. He engaged Ed +Hall to go at night and replace the plants that did not live. "It's fair +enough," he explained to Ed. "A hundred things can cause the plants to die, +but if they die it'll be blamed on the machine. What will become of the +town if we don't believe in the thing we're going to manufacture here?" + +The crowds of people, who in the evenings walked out along Turner's Pike +to look at the field with its long rows of sturdy young cabbages, moved +restlessly about and talked of the new days. From the field they went along +the railroad tracks to the site of the factory. The brick walls began to +mount up into the sky. Machinery began to arrive and was housed under +temporary sheds against the time when it could be installed. An advance +horde of workmen came to town and new faces appeared on Main Street in the +evening. The thing that was happening in Bidwell happened in towns all over +the Middle West. Out through the coal and iron regions of Pennsylvania, +into Ohio and Indiana, and on westward into the States bordering on the +Mississippi River, industry crept. Gas and oil were discovered in Ohio and +Indiana. Over night, towns grew into cities. A madness took hold of the +minds of the people. Villages like Lima and Findlay, Ohio, and like Muncie +and Anderson in Indiana, became small cities within a few weeks. To some of +these places, so anxious were the people to get to them and to invest their +money, excursion trains were run. Town lots that a few weeks before the +discovery of oil or gas could have been bought for a few dollars sold for +thousands. Wealth seemed to be spurting out of the very earth. On farms in +Indiana and Ohio giant gas wells blew the drilling machinery out of the +ground, and the fuel so essential to modern industrial development rushed +into the open. A wit, standing in the presence of one of the roaring gas +wells exclaimed, "Papa, Earth has indigestion; he has gas on his stomach. +His face will be covered with pimples." + +Having, before the factories came, no market for the gas, the wells were +lighted and at night great torches of flame lit the skies. Pipes were laid +on the surface of the ground and by a day's work a laborer earned enough to +heat his house at tropical heat through an entire winter. Farmers owning +oil-producing land went to bed in the evening poor and owing money at the +bank, and awoke in the morning rich. They moved into the towns and invested +their money in the factories that sprang up everywhere. In one county in +southern Michigan, over five hundred patents for woven wire farm fencing +were taken out in one year, and almost every patent was a magnet about +which a company for the manufacture of fence formed itself. A vast energy +seemed to come out of the breast of earth and infect the people. Thousands +of the most energetic men of the middle States wore themselves out in +forming companies, and when the companies failed, immediately formed +others. In the fast-growing towns, men who were engaged in organizing +companies representing a capital of millions lived in houses thrown +hurriedly together by carpenters who, before the time of the great +awakening, were engaged in building barns. It was a time of hideous +architecture, a time when thought and learning paused. Without music, +without poetry, without beauty in their lives or impulses, a whole people, +full of the native energy and strength of lives lived in a new land, rushed +pell-mell into a new age. A man in Ohio, who had been a dealer in horses, +made a million dollars out of a patent churn he had bought for the price of +a farm horse, took his wife to visit Europe and in Paris bought a painting +for fifty thousand dollars. In another State of the Middle West, a man who +sold patent medicine from door to door through the country began dealing in +oil leases, became fabulously rich, bought himself three daily newspapers, +and before he had reached the age of thirty-five succeeded in having +himself elected Governor of his State. In the glorification of his energy +his unfitness as a statesman was forgotten. + +In the days before the coming of industry, before the time of the mad +awakening, the towns of the Middle West were sleepy places devoted to the +practice of the old trades, to agriculture and to merchandising. In the +morning the men of the towns went forth to work in the fields or to the +practice of the trade of carpentry, horse-shoeing, wagon making, harness +repairing, and the making of shoes and clothing. They read books and +believed in a God born in the brains of men who came out of a civilization +much like their own. On the farms and in the houses in the towns the men +and women worked together toward the same ends in life. They lived in small +frame houses set on the plains like boxes, but very substantially built. +The carpenter who built a farmer's house differentiated it from the barn by +putting what he called scroll work up under the eaves and by building at +the front a porch with carved posts. After one of the poor little houses +had been lived in for a long time, after children had been born and men had +died, after men and women had suffered and had moments of joy together in +the tiny rooms under the low roofs, a subtle change took place. The houses +became almost beautiful in their old humanness. Each of the houses began +vaguely to shadow forth the personality of the people who lived within its +walls. + +In the farmhouses and in the houses on the side streets in the villages, +life awoke at dawn. Back of each of the houses there was a barn for the +horses and cows, and sheds for pigs and chickens. At daylight a chorus of +neighs, squeals, and cries broke the silence. Boys and men came out of +the houses. They stood in the open spaces before the barns and stretched +their bodies like sleepy animals. The arms extended upward seemed to be +supplicating the gods for fair days, and the fair days came. The men and +boys went to a pump beside the house and washed their faces and hands +in the cold water. In the kitchens there was the smell and sound of the +cooking of food. The women also were astir. The men went into the barns to +feed the animals and then hurried to the houses to be themselves fed. A +continual grunting sound came from the sheds where pigs were eating corn, +and over the houses a contented silence brooded. + +After the morning meal men and animals went together to the fields and to +the doing of their tasks, and in the houses the women mended clothes, put +fruit in cans against the coming of winter and talked of woman's affairs. +On the streets of the towns on fair days lawyers, doctors, the officials of +the county courts, and the merchants walked about in their shirt sleeves. +The house painter went along with his ladder on his shoulder. In the +stillness there could be heard the hammers of the carpenters building a +new house for the son of a merchant who had married the daughter of a +blacksmith. A sense of quiet growth awoke in sleeping minds. It was the +time for art and beauty to awake in the land. + +Instead, the giant, Industry, awoke. Boys, who in the schools had read of +Lincoln, walking for miles through the forest to borrow his first book, and +of Garfield, the towpath lad who became president, began to read in the +newspapers and magazines of men who by developing their faculty for getting +and keeping money had become suddenly and overwhelmingly rich. Hired +writers called these men great, and there was no maturity of mind in the +people with which to combat the force of the statement, often repeated. +Like children the people believed what they were told. + +While the new factory was being built with the carefully saved dollars +of the people, young men from Bidwell went out to work in other places. +After oil and gas were discovered in neighboring states, they went to the +fast-growing towns and came home telling wonder tales. In the boom towns +men earned four, five and even six dollars a day. In secret and when none +of the older people were about, they told of adventures on which they had +gone in the new places; of how, attracted by the flood of money, women came +from the cities; and the times they had been with these women. Young Harley +Parsons, whose father was a shoemaker and who had learned the blacksmith +trade, went to work in one of the new oil fields. He came home wearing a +fancy silk vest and astonished his fellows by buying and smoking ten-cent +cigars. His pockets were bulging with money. "I'm not going to stay long +in this town, you can bet on that," he declared one evening as he stood, +surrounded by a group of admirers before Fanny Twist's Millinery Shop on +lower Main Street. "I have been with a Chinese woman, and an Italian, and +with one from South America." He took a puff of his cigar and spat on the +sidewalk. "I'm out to get what I can out of life," he declared. "I'm going +back and I'm going to make a record. Before I get through I'm going to be +with a woman of every nationality on earth, that's what I'm going to do." + +Joseph Wainsworth the harness maker, who had been the first man in Bidwell +to feel the touch of the heavy finger of industrialism, could not get over +the effect of the conversation had with Butterworth, the farmer who had +asked him to repair harnesses made by machines in a factory. He became a +silent disgruntled man and muttered as he went about his work in the shop. +When Will Sellinger his apprentice threw up his place and went to Cleveland +he did not get another boy but for a time worked alone in the shop. He got +the name of being disagreeable, and on winter afternoons the farmers no +longer came into his place to loaf. Being a sensitive man, Joe felt like a +pigmy, a tiny thing walking always in the presence of a giant that might +at any moment and by a whim destroy him. All his life he had been somewhat +off-hand with his customers. "If they don't like my work, let 'em go to the +devil," he said to his apprentices. "I know my trade and I don't have to +bow down to any one here." + +When Steve Hunter organized the Bidwell Plant-Setting Machine Company, the +harness maker put his savings, twelve hundred dollars, into the stock of +the company. One day, during the time when the factory was building, he +heard that Steve had paid twelve hundred dollars for a new lathe that had +just arrived by freight and had been set on the floor of the uncompleted +building. The promoter had told a farmer that the lathe would do the work +of a hundred men, and the farmer had come into Joe's shop and repeated the +statement. It stuck in Joe's mind and he came to believe that the twelve +hundred dollars he had invested in stock had been used for the purchase of +the lathe. It was money he had earned in a long lifetime of effort and it +had now bought a machine that would do the work of a hundred men. Already +his money had increased by a hundred fold and he wondered why he could +not be happy about the matter. On some days he was happy, and then his +happiness was followed by an odd fit of depression. Suppose, after all, +the plant-setting machine wouldn't work? What then could be done with the +lathe, with the machine bought with his money? + +One evening after dark and without saying anything to his wife, he went +down along Turner's Pike to the old factory at Pickleville where Hugh with +the half-wit Allie Mulberry, and the two mechanics from the city, were +striving to correct the faults in the plant-setting machine. Joe wanted +to look at the tall gaunt man from the West, and had some notion of +trying to get into conversation with him and of asking his opinion of the +possibilities of the success of the new machine. The man of the age of +flesh and blood wanted to walk in the presence of the man who belonged to +the new age of iron and steel. When he got to the factory it was dark and +on an express truck in front of the Wheeling Station the two city workmen +sat smoking their evening pipes. Joe walked past them to the station door +and then returned along the platform and got again into Turner's Pike. He +stumbled along the path beside the road and presently saw Hugh McVey coming +toward him. It was one of the evenings when Hugh, overcome with loneliness, +and puzzled that his new position in the town's life did not bring him any +closer to people, had gone to town to walk through Main Street, half hoping +some one would break through his embarrassment and enter into conversation +with him. + +When the harness maker saw Hugh walking in the path, he crept into a fence +corner, and crouching down, watched the man as Hugh had watched the French +boys at work in the cabbage fields. Strange thoughts came into his head. He +thought the extraordinarily tall figure before him in some way terrible. He +became childishly angry and for a moment thought that if he had a stone in +his hand he would throw it at the man, the workings of whose brain had so +upset his own life. Then as the figure of Hugh went away along the path +another mood came. "I have worked all my life for twelve hundred dollars, +for money that will buy one machine that this man thinks nothing about," he +muttered aloud. "Perhaps I'll get more money than I invested: Steve Hunter +says maybe I will. If machines kill the harness-making trade what's the +difference? I'll be all right. The thing to do is to get in with the new +times, to wake up, that's the ticket. With me it's like with every one +else: nothing venture nothing gain." + +Joe crawled out of the fence corner and went stealthily along the road +behind Hugh. A fervor seized him and he thought he would like to creep +close and touch with his finger the hem of Hugh's coat. Afraid to try +anything so bold his mind took a new turn. He ran in the darkness along the +road toward town and, when he had crossed the bridge and come to the New +York Central tracks, turned west and went along the tracks until he came to +the new factory. In the darkness the half completed walls stuck up into the +sky, and all about were piles of building materials. The night had been +dark and cloudy, but now the moon began to push its way through the clouds. +Joe crawled over a pile of bricks and through a window into the building. +He felt his way along the walls until he came to a mass of iron covered by +a rubber blanket. He was sure it must be the lathe his money had bought, +the machine that was to do the work of a hundred men and that was to make +him comfortably rich in his old age. No one had spoken of any other machine +having been brought in on the factory floor. Joe knelt on the floor and put +his hands about the heavy iron legs of the machine. "What a strong thing +it is! It will not break easily," he thought. He had an impulse to do +something he knew would be foolish, to kiss the iron legs of the machine +or to say a prayer as he knelt before it. Instead he got to his feet and +crawling out again through the window, went home. He felt renewed and full +of new courage because of the experiences of the night, but when he got to +his own house and stood at the door outside, he heard his neighbor, David +Chapman, a wheelwright who worked in Charlie Collins' wagon shop, praying +in his bedroom before an open window. Joe listened for a moment and, for +some reason he couldn't understand, his new-found faith was destroyed by +what he heard. David Chapman, a devout Methodist, was praying for Hugh +McVey and for the success of his invention. Joe knew his neighbor had also +invested his savings in the stock of the new company. He had thought that +he alone was doubtful of success, but it was apparent that doubt had come +also into the mind of the wheelwright. The pleading voice of the praying +man, as it broke the stillness of the night, cut across and for the moment +utterly destroyed his confidence. "O God, help the man Hugh McVey to remove +every obstacle that stands in his way," David Chapman prayed. "Make the +plant-setting machine a success. Bring light into the dark places. O Lord, +help Hugh McVey, thy servant, to build successfully the plant-setting +machine." + + + + +BOOK THREE + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +When Clara Butterworth, the daughter of Tom Butterworth, was eighteen years +old she graduated from the town high school. Until the summer of her +seventeenth year, she was a tall, strong, hard-muscled girl, shy in the +presence of strangers and bold with people she knew well. Her eyes were +extraordinarily gentle. + +The Butterworth house on Medina Road stood back of an apple orchard and +there was a second orchard beside the house. The Medina Road ran south from +Bidwell and climbed gradually upward toward a country of low hills, and +from the side porch of the Butterworth house the view was magnificent. +The house itself was a large brick affair with a cupola on top and was +considered at that time the most pretentious place in the county. + +Behind the house were several great barns for the horses and cattle. Most +of Tom Butterworth's farm land lay north of Bidwell, and some of his fields +were five miles from his home; but as he did not himself work the land it +did not matter. The farms were rented to men who worked them on shares. +Beside the business of farming Tom carried on other affairs. He owned two +hundred acres of hillside land near his house and, with the exception of +a few fields and a strip of forest land, it was devoted to the grazing +of sheep and cattle. Milk and cream were delivered each morning to the +householders of Bidwell by two wagons driven by his employees. A half mile +to the west of his residence there was a slaughter house on a side road and +at the edge of a field where cattle were killed for the Bidwell market. Tom +owned it and employed the men who did the killing. A creek that came down +out of the hills through one of the fields past his house had been dammed, +and south of the pond there was an ice house. He also supplied the town +with ice. In his orchards beneath the trees stood more than a hundred +beehives and every year he shipped honey to Cleveland. The farmer himself +was a man who appeared to do nothing, but his shrewd mind was always at +work. In the summer throughout the long sleepy afternoons, he drove about +over the county buying sheep and cattle, stopping to trade horses with some +farmer, dickering for new pieces of land, everlastingly busy. He had one +passion. He loved fast trotting horses, but would not humor himself by +owning one. "It's a game that only gets you into trouble and debt," he said +to his friend John Clark, the banker. "Let other men own the horses and go +broke racing them. I'll go to the races. Every fall I can go to Cleveland +to the grand circuit. If I go crazy about a horse I can bet ten dollars +he'll win. If he doesn't I'm out ten dollars. If I owned him I would maybe +be out hundreds for the expense of training and all that." The farmer was +a tall man with a white beard, broad shoulders, and rather small slender +white hands. He chewed tobacco, but in spite of the habit kept both himself +and his white beard scrupulously clean. His wife had died while he was yet +in the full vigor of life, but he had no eye for women. His mind, he once +told one of his friends, was too much occupied with his own affairs and +with thoughts of the fine horses he had seen to concern itself with any +such nonsense. + +For many years the farmer did not appear to pay much attention to his +daughter Clara, who was his only child. Throughout her childhood she was +under the care of one of his five sisters, all of whom except the one who +lived with him and managed his household being comfortably married. His own +wife had been a somewhat frail woman, but his daughter had inherited his +own physical strength. + +When Clara was seventeen, she and her father had a quarrel that eventually +destroyed their relationship. The quarrel began late in July. It was a busy +summer on the farms and more than a dozen men were employed about the +barns, in the delivery of ice and milk to the town, and at the slaughtering +pens a half mile away. During that summer something happened to the girl. +For hours she sat in her own room in the house reading books, or lay in +a hammock in the orchard and looked up through the fluttering leaves of +the apple trees at the summer sky. A light, strangely soft and enticing, +sometimes came into her eyes. Her figure that had been boyish and strong +began to change. As she went about the house she sometimes smiled at +nothing. Her aunt hardly noticed what was happening to her, but her father, +who all her life had seemed hardly to take account of her existence, was +interested. In her presence he began to feel like a young man. As in the +days of his courtship of her mother and before the possessive passion in +him destroyed his ability to love, he began to feel vaguely that life about +him was full of significance. Sometimes in the afternoon when he went +for one of his long drives through the country he asked his daughter to +accompany him, and although he had little to say a kind of gallantry crept +into his attitude toward the awakening girl. While she was in the buggy +with him, he did not chew tobacco, and after one or two attempts to indulge +in the habit without having the smoke blow in her face, he gave up smoking +his pipe during the drives. + +Always before that summer Clara had spent the months when there was no +school in the company of the farm hands. She rode on wagons, visited the +barns, and when she grew weary of the company of older people, went into +town to spend an afternoon with one of her friends among the town girls. + +In the summer of her seventeenth year she did none of these things. At the +table she ate in silence. The Butterworth household was at that time run +on the old-fashioned American plan, and the farm hands, the men who drove +the ice and milk wagons and even the men who killed and dressed cattle and +sheep, ate at the same table with Tom Butterworth, his sister, who was the +housekeeper, and his daughter. Three hired girls were employed in the house +and after all had been served they also came and took their places at +table. The older men among the farmer's employees, many of whom had known +her from childhood, had got into the habit of teasing the daughter of the +house. They made comments concerning town boys, young fellows who clerked +in stores or who were apprenticed to some tradesman and one of whom had +perhaps brought the girl home at night from a school party or from one of +the affairs called "socials" that were held at the town churches. After +they had eaten in the peculiar silent intent way common to hungry laborers, +the farm hands leaned back in their chairs and winked at each other. Two +of them began an elaborate conversation touching on some incident in the +girl's life. One of the older men, who had been on the farm for many years +and who had a reputation among the others of being something of a wit, +chuckled softly. He began to talk, addressing no one in particular. The +man's name was Jim Priest, and although the Civil War had come upon the +country when he was past forty, he had been a soldier. In Bidwell he was +looked upon as something of a rascal, but his employer was very fond of +him. The two men often talked together for hours concerning the merits +of well known trotting horses. In the war Jim had been what was called +a bounty man, and it was whispered about town that he had also been a +deserter and a bounty jumper. He did not go to town with the other men +on Saturday afternoons, and had never attempted to get into the Bidwell +chapter of the G. A. R. On Saturdays when the other farm hands washed, +shaved and dressed themselves in their Sunday clothes preparatory to the +weekly flight to town, he called one of them into the barn, slipped a +quarter into his hand, and said, "Bring me a half pint and don't you forget +it." On Sunday afternoons he crawled into the hayloft of one of the barns, +drank his weekly portion of whisky, got drunk, and sometimes did not appear +again until time to go to work on Monday morning. In the fall Jim took his +savings and went to spend a week at the grand circuit trotting meeting at +Cleveland, where he bought a costly present for his employer's daughter and +then bet the rest of his money on the races. When he was lucky he stayed on +in Cleveland, drinking and carousing until his winnings were gone. + +It was Jim Priest who always led the attacks of teasing at the table, and +in the summer of her seventeenth year, when she was no longer in the mood +for such horse-play, it was Jim who brought the practice to an end. At the +table Jim leaned back in his chair, stroked his red bristly beard, now +rapidly graying, looked out of a window over Clara's head, and told a tale +concerning an attempt at suicide on the part of a young man in love with +Clara. He said the young man, a clerk in a Bidwell store, had taken a pair +of trousers from a shelf, tied one leg about his neck and the other to a +bracket in the wall. Then he jumped off a counter and had only been saved +from death because a town girl, passing the store, had seen him and had +rushed in and cut him down. "Now what do you think of that?" he cried. "He +was in love with our Clara, I tell you." + +After the telling of the tale, Clara got up from the table and ran out of +the room. The farm hands joined by her father laughed heartily. Her aunt +shook her finger at Jim Priest, the hero of the occasion. "Why don't you +let her alone?" she asked. + +"She'll never get married if she stays here where you make fun of every +young man who pays her any attention." At the door Clara stopped and, +turning, put out her tongue at Jim Priest. Another roar of laughter arose. +Chairs were scraped along the floor and the men filed out of the house to +go back to the work in the barns and about the farm. + +In the summer when the change came over her Clara sat at the table and did +not hear the tales told by Jim Priest. She thought the farm hands who ate +so greedily were vulgar, a notion she had never had before, and wished she +did not have to eat with them. One afternoon as she lay in the hammock in +the orchard, she heard several of the men in a nearby barn discussing the +change that had come over her. Jim Priest was explaining what had happened. +"Our fun's over with Clara," he said. "Now we'll have to treat her in a new +way. She's no longer a kid. We'll have to let her alone or pretty soon she +won't speak to any of us. It's a thing that happens when a girl begins to +think about being a woman. The sap has begun to run up the tree." + +The puzzled girl lay in the hammock and looked up at the sky. She thought +about Jim Priest's words and tried to understand what he meant. Sadness +crept over her and tears came into her eyes. Although she did not know what +the old man meant by the words about the sap and the tree, she did, in a +detached subconscious way, understand something of the import of the words, +and she was grateful for the thoughtfulness that had led to his telling the +others to stop trying to tease her at the table. The half worn-out old farm +hand, with the bristly beard and the strong old body, became a figure full +of significance to her mind. She remembered with gratitude that, in spite +of all of his teasing, Jim Priest had never said anything that had in any +way hurt her. In the new mood that had come upon her that meant much. A +greater hunger for understanding, love, and friendliness took possession of +her. She did not think of turning to her father or to her aunt, with whom +she had never talked of anything intimate or close to herself, but turned +instead to the crude old man. A hundred minor points in the character of +Jim Priest she had never thought of before came sharply into her mind. +In the barns he had never mistreated the animals as the other farm hands +sometimes did. When on Sunday afternoons he was drunk and went staggering +through the barns, he did not strike the horses or swear at them. She +wondered if it would be possible for her to talk to Jim Priest, to ask him +questions about life and people and what he meant by his words regarding +the sap and the tree. The farm hand was old and unmarried. She wondered if +in his youth he had ever loved a woman. She decided he had. His words about +the sap were, she was sure, in some way connected with the idea of love. +How strong his hands were. They were gnarled and rough, but there was +something beautifully powerful about them. She half wished the old man had +been her father. In his youth, in the darkness at night or when he was +alone with a girl, perhaps in a quiet wood in the late afternoon when the +sun was going down, he had put his hands on her shoulders. He had drawn the +girl to him. He had kissed her. + +Clara jumped quickly out of the hammock and walked about under the trees in +the orchard. Her thoughts of Jim Priest's youth startled her. It was as +though she had walked suddenly into a room where a man and woman were +making love. Her cheeks burned and her hands trembled. As she walked slowly +through the clumps of grass and weeds that grew between the trees where the +sunlight struggled through, bees coming home to the hives heavily laden +with honey flew in droves about her head. There was something heady and +purposeful about the song of labor that arose out of the beehives. It got +into her blood and her step quickened. The words of Jim Priest that kept +running through her mind seemed a part of the same song the bees were +singing. "The sap has begun to run up the tree," she repeated aloud. How +significant and strange the words seemed! They were the kind of words a +lover might use in speaking to his beloved. She had read many novels, but +they contained no such words. It was better so. It was better to hear them +from human lips. Again she thought of Jim Priest's youth and boldly wished +he were still young. She told herself that she would like to see him young +and married to a beautiful young woman. She stopped by a fence that looked +out upon a hillside meadow. The sun seemed extraordinarily bright, the +grass in the meadow greener than she had ever seen it before. Two birds in +a tree nearby made love to each other. The female flew madly about and was +pursued by the male bird. In his eagerness he was so intent that he flew +directly before the girl's face, his wing nearly touching her cheek. She +went back through the orchard to the barns and through one of them to the +open door of a long shed that was used for housing wagons and buggies, her +mind occupied with the idea of finding Jim Priest, of standing perhaps near +him. He was not about, but in the open space before the shed, John May, a +young man of twenty-two who had just come to work on the farm, was oiling +the wheels of a wagon. His back was turned and as he handled the heavy +wagon wheels the muscles could be seen playing beneath his thin cotton +shirt. "It is so Jim Priest must have looked in his youth," the girl +thought. + +The farm girl wanted to approach the young man, to speak to him, to ask him +questions concerning many strange things in life she did not understand. +She knew that under no circumstances would she be able to do such a thing, +that it was but a meaningless dream that had come into her head, but the +dream was sweet. She did not, however, want to talk to John May. At the +moment she was in a girlish period of being disgusted at what she thought +of as the vulgarity of the men who worked on the place. At the table they +ate noisily and greedily like hungry animals. She wanted youth that was +like her own youth, crude and uncertain perhaps, but reaching eagerly out +into the unknown. She wanted to draw very near to something young, strong, +gentle, insistent, beautiful. When the farm hand looked up and saw her +standing and looking intently at him, she was embarrassed. For a moment the +two young animals, so unlike each other, stood staring at each other and +then, to relieve her embarrassment, Clara began to play a game. Among the +men employed on the farm she had always passed for something of a tomboy. +In the hayfields and in the barns she had wrestled and fought playfully +with both the old and the young men. To them she had always been a +privileged person. They liked her and she was the boss's daughter. One did +not get rough with her or say or do rough things. A basket of corn stood +just within the door of the shed, and running to it Clara took an ear of +the yellow corn and threw it at the farm hand. It struck a post of the barn +just above his head. Laughing shrilly Clara ran into the shed among the +wagons, and the farm hand pursued her. + +John May was a very determined man. He was the son of a laborer in Bidwell +and for two or three years had been employed about the stable of a doctor, +something had happened between him and the doctor's wife and he had left +the place because he had a notion that the doctor was becoming suspicious. +The experience had taught him the value of boldness in dealing with women. +Ever since he had come to work on the Butterworth farm, he had been having +thoughts regarding the girl who had now, he imagined, given him direct +challenge. He was a little amazed by her boldness but did not stop to ask +himself questions, she had openly invited him to pursue her. That was +enough. His accustomed awkwardness and clumsiness went away and he leaped +lightly over the extended tongues of wagons and buggies. He caught Clara +in dark corner of the shed. Without a word he took her tightly into his +arms and kissed her, first upon the neck and then on the mouth. She lay +trembling and weak in his arms and he took hold of the collar of her dress +and tore it open. Her brown neck and one of her hard, round breasts were +exposed. Clara's eyes grew big with fright. Strength came back into her +body. With her sharp hard little fist she struck John May in the face; and +when he stepped back she ran quickly out of the shed. John May did not +understand. He thought she had sought him out once and would return. "She's +a little green. I was too fast. I scared her. Next time I'll go a little +easy," he thought. + +Clara ran through the barn and then walked slowly to the house and went +upstairs to her own room. A farm dog followed her up the stairs and stood +at her door wagging his tail. She shut the door in his face. For the moment +everything that lived and breathed seemed to her gross and ugly. Her cheeks +were pale and she pulled shut the blinds to the window and sat down on the +bed, overcome with the strange new fear of life. She did not want even the +sunlight to come into her presence. John May had followed her through the +barn and now stood in the barnyard staring at the house. She could see him +through the cracks of the blinds and wished it were possible to kill him +with a gesture of her hand. + +The farm hand, full of male confidence, waited for her to come to the +window and look down at him. He wondered if there were any one else in the +house. Perhaps she would beckon to him. Something of the kind had happened +between him and the doctor's wife and it had turned out that way. When +after five or ten minutes he did not see her, he went back to the work of +oiling the wagon wheels. "It's going to be a slower thing. She's shy, a +green girl," he told himself. + +One evening a week later Clara sat on the side porch of the house with her +father when John May came into the barnyard. It was a Wednesday evening and +the farm hands were not in the habit of going into town until Saturday, but +he was dressed in his Sunday clothes and had shaved and oiled his hair. On +the occasion of a wedding or a funeral the laborers put oil in their hair. +It was indicative of something very important about to happen. Clara looked +at him, and in spite of the feeling of repugnance that swept over her, her +eyes glistened. Ever since the affair in the barn she had managed to avoid +meeting him but she was not afraid. He had in fact taught her something. +There was a power within her with which she could conquer men. The touch +of her father's shrewdness, that was a part of her nature, had come to her +rescue. She wanted to laugh at the silly pretensions of the man, to make a +fool of him. Her cheeks flushed with pride in her mastery of the situation. + +John May walked almost to the house and then turned along the path that +led to the road. He made a gesture with his hand and by chance Tom +Butterworth, who had been looking off across the open country toward +Bidwell, turned and saw both the movement and the leering confident smile +on the farm hand's face. He arose and followed John May into the road, +astonishment and anger fighting for possession of him. The two men stood +talking for three minutes in the road before the house and then returned. +The farm hand went to the barn and then came back along the path to the +road carrying under his arm a grain bag containing his work clothes. He did +not look up as he went past. The farmer returned to the porch. + +The misunderstanding that was to wreck the tender relationship that had +begun to grow up between father and daughter began on that evening. Tom +Butterworth was furious. He muttered and clinched his fists. Clara's heart +beat heavily. For some reason she felt guilty, as though she had been +caught in an intrigue with the man. For a long time her father remained +silent and then he, like the farm hand, made a furious and brutal attack on +her. "Where have you been with that fellow? What you been up to?" he asked +harshly. + +For a time Clara did not answer her father's question. She wanted to +scream, to strike him in the face with her fist as she had struck the man +in the shed. Then her mind struggled to take hold of the new situation. The +fact that her father had accused her of seeking the thing that had happened +made her hate John May less heartily. She had some one else to hate. + +Clara did not think the matter out clearly on that first evening but, after +denying that she had ever been anywhere with John May, burst into tears and +ran into the house. In the darkness of her own room she began to think of +her father's words. For some reason she could not understand, the attack +made on her spirit seemed more terrible and unforgivable than the attack +upon her body made by the farm hand in the shed. She began to understand +vaguely that the young man had been confused by her presence on that warm +sunshiny afternoon as she had been confused by the words uttered by Jim +Priest, by the song of the bees in the orchard, by the love-making of the +birds, and by her own uncertain thoughts. He had been confused and he +was stupid and young. There had been an excuse for his confusion. It was +understandable and could be dealt with. She had now no doubt of her own +ability to deal with John May. As for her father--it was all right for him +to be suspicious regarding the farm hand, but why had he been suspicious of +her? + +The perplexed girl sat down in the darkness on the edge of the bed, and a +hard look came into her eyes. After a time her father came up the stairs +and knocked at her door. He did not come in but stood in the hallway +outside and talked. She remained calm while the conversation lasted, and +that confused the man who had expected to find her in tears. That she was +not seemed to him an evidence of guilt. + +Tom Butterworth, in many ways a shrewd, observing man, never understood the +quality of his own daughter. He was an intensely possessive man and once, +when he was newly married, there had been a suspicion in his mind that +there was something between his wife and a young man who had worked on the +farm where he then lived. The suspicion was unfounded, but he discharged +the man and one evening, when his wife had gone into town to do some +shopping and did not return at the accustomed time, he followed, and when +he saw her on the street stepped into a store to avoid a meeting. She was +in trouble. Her horse had become suddenly lame and she had to walk home. +Without letting her see him the husband followed along the road. It was +dark and she heard the footsteps in the road behind her and becoming +frightened ran the last half mile to her own house. He waited until she +had entered and then followed her in, pretending he had just come from the +barns. When he heard her story of the accident to the horse and of her +fright in the road he was ashamed; but as the horse, that had been left in +a livery stable, seemed all right when he went for it the next day he +became suspicious again. + +As he stood outside the door of his daughter's room, the farmer felt as he +had felt that evening long before when he followed his wife along the road. +When on the porch downstairs he had looked up suddenly and had seen the +gesture made by the farm hand, he had also looked quickly at his daughter. +She looked confused and, he thought, guilty. "Well, it is the same thing +over again," he thought bitterly, "like mother, like daughter--they are +both of the same stripe." Getting quickly out of his chair he had followed +the young man into the road and had discharged him. "Go, to-night. I don't +want to see you on the place again," he said. In the darkness before the +girl's room he thought of many bitter things he wanted to say. He forgot +she was a girl and talked to her as he might have talked to a mature, +sophisticated, and guilty woman. "Come," he said, "I want to know the +truth. If you have been with that farm hand you are starting young. Has +anything happened between you?" + +Clara walked to the door and confronted her father. The hatred of him, born +in that hour and that never left her, gave her strength. She did not know +what he was talking about, but had a keen sense of the fact that he, like +the stupid, young man in the shed, was trying to violate something very +precious in her nature. "I don't know what you are talking about," she said +calmly, "but I know this. I am no longer a child. Within the last week I've +become a woman. If you don't want me in your house, if you don't like me +any more, say so and I'll go away." + +The two people stood in the darkness and tried to look at each other. Clara +was amazed by her own strength and by the words that had come to her. The +words had clarified something. She felt that if her father would but take +her into his arms or say some kindly understanding word, all could be +forgotten. Life could be started over again. In the future she would +understand much that she had not understood. She and her father could draw +close to each other. Tears came into her eyes and a sob trembled in her +throat. As her father, however, did not answer her words and turned to go +silently away, she shut the door with a loud bang and afterward lay awake +all night, white and furious with anger and disappointment. + +Clara left home to become a college student that fall, but before she left +had another passage at arms with her father. In August a young man who was +to teach in the town schools came to Bidwell, and she met him at a supper +given in the basement of the church. He walked home with her and came on +the following Sunday afternoon to call. She introduced the young man, a +slender fellow with black hair, brown eyes, and a serious face, to her +father who answered by nodding his head and walking away. She and the young +man walked along a country road and went into a wood. He was five years +older than herself and had been to college, but she felt much the older and +wiser. The thing that happens to so many women had happened to her. She +felt older and wiser than all the men she had ever seen. She had decided, +as most women finally decide, that there are two kinds of men in the world, +those who are kindly, gentle, well-intentioned children, and those who, +while they remain children, are obsessed with stupid, male vanity and +imagine themselves born to be masters of life. Clara's thoughts on the +matter were not very clear. She was young and her thoughts were indefinite. +She had, however, been shocked into an acceptance of life and she was made +of the kind of stuff that survives the blows life gives. + +In the wood with the young school teacher, Clara began an experiment. +Evening came on and it grew dark. She knew her father would be furious that +she did not come home but she did not care. She led the school teacher +to talk of love and the relationships of men and women. She pretended an +innocence that was not hers. School girls know many things that they do not +apply to themselves until something happens to them such as had happened to +Clara. The farmer's daughter became conscious. She knew a thousand things +she had not known a month before and began to take her revenge upon men for +their betrayal of her. In the darkness as they walked home together, she +tempted the young man into kissing her, and later lay in his arms for two +hours, entirely sure of herself, striving to find out, without risk to +herself, the things she wanted to know about life. + +That night she again quarreled with her father. He tried to scold her for +remaining out late with a man, and she shut the door in his face. On +another evening she walked boldly out of the house with the school teacher. +The two walked along a road to where a bridge went over a small stream. +John May, who was still determined that the farmer's daughter was in +love with him, had on that evening followed the school teacher to the +Butterworth house and had been waiting outside intending to frighten his +rival with his fists. On the bridge something happened that drove the +school teacher away. John May came up to the two people and began to make +threats. The bridge had just been repaired and a pile of small, sharp-edged +stones lay close at hand. Clara picked one of them up and handed it to the +school teacher. "Hit him," she said. "Don't be afraid. He's only a coward. +Hit him on the head with the stone." + +The three people stood in silence waiting for something to happen. John May +was disconcerted by Clara's words. He had thought she wanted him to pursue +her. He stepped toward the school teacher, who dropped the stone that had +been put into his hand and ran away. Clara went back along the road toward +her own house followed by the muttering farm hand who, after her speech at +the bridge, did not dare approach. "Maybe she was making a bluff. Maybe +she didn't want that young fellow to get on to what is between us," he +muttered, as he stumbled along in the darkness. + +In the house Clara sat for a half hour at a table in the lighted living +room beside her father, pretending to read a book. She half hoped he would +say something that would permit her to attack him. When nothing happened +she went upstairs and to bed, only again to spend the night awake and white +with anger at the thought of the cruel and unexplainable things life seemed +trying to do to her. + +In September Clara left the farm to attend the State University at +Columbus. She was sent there because Tom Butterworth had a sister who was +married to a manufacturer of plows and lived at the State Capital. After +the incident with the farm hand and the misunderstanding that had sprung +up between himself and his daughter, he was uncomfortable with her in the +house and was glad to have her away. He did not want to frighten his sister +by telling of what had happened, and when he wrote, tried to be diplomatic. +"Clara has been too much among the rough men who work on my farms and had +become a little rough," he wrote. "Take her in hand. I want her to become +more of a lady. Get her acquainted with the right kind of people." In +secret he hoped she would meet and marry some young man while she was away. +Two of his sisters had gone away to school and it had turned out that way. + +During the month before his daughter left home the farmer tried to be +somewhat more human and gentle in his attitude toward her, but did not +succeed in dispelling the dislike of himself that had taken deep root +in her nature. At table he made jokes at which the farm hands laughed +boisterously. Then he looked at his daughter who did not appear to have +been listening. Clara ate quickly and hurried out of the room. She did not +go to visit her girl friends in town and the young school teacher came +no more to see her. During the long summer afternoons she walked in the +orchard among the beehives or climbed over fences and went into a wood, +where she sat for hours on a fallen log staring at the trees and the sky. +Tom Butterworth also hurried out of his house. He pretended to be busy and +every day drove far and wide over the country. Sometimes he thought he had +been brutal and crude in his treatment of his daughter, and decided he +would speak to her regarding the matter and ask her to forgive him. Then +his suspicion returned. He struck the horse with the whip and drove +furiously along the lonely roads. "Well, there's something wrong," he +muttered aloud. "Men don't just look at women and approach them boldly, as +that young fellow did with Clara. He did it before my very eyes. He's been +given some encouragement." An old suspicion awoke in him. "There was +something wrong with her mother, and there's something wrong with her. I'll +be glad when the time comes for her to marry and settle down, so I can get +her off my hands," he thought bitterly. + +On the evening when Clara left the farm to go to the train that was to +take her away, her father said he had a headache, a thing he had never +been known to complain of before, and told Jim Priest to drive her to the +station. Jim took the girl to the station, saw to the checking of her +baggage, and waited about until her train came in. Then he boldly kissed +her on the cheek. "Good-by, little girl," he said gruffly. Clara was so +grateful she could not reply. On the train she spent an hour weeping +softly. The rough gentleness of the old farm hand had done much to take the +growing bitterness out of her heart. She felt that she was ready to begin +life anew, and wished she had not left the farm without coming to a better +understanding with her father. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +The Woodburns of Columbus were wealthy by the standards of their day. They +lived in a large house and kept two carriages and four servants, but had +no children. Henderson Woodburn was small of stature, wore a gray beard, +and was neat and precise about his person. He was treasurer of the plow +manufacturing company and was also treasurer of the church he and his +wife attended. In his youth he had been called "Hen" Woodburn and had +been bullied by larger boys, and when he grew to be a man and after his +persistent shrewdness and patience had carried him into a position of some +power in the business life of his native city he in turn became something +of a bully to the men beneath him. He thought his wife Priscilla had come +from a better family than his own and was a little afraid of her. When they +did not agree on any subject, she expressed her opinion gently but firmly, +while he blustered for a time and then gave in. After a misunderstanding +his wife put her arms about his neck and kissed the bald spot on the top of +his head. Then the subject was forgotten. + +Life in the Woodburn house was lived without words. After the stir and +bustle of the farm, the silence of the house for a long time frightened +Clara. Even when she was alone in her own room she walked about on tiptoe. +Henderson Woodburn was absorbed in his work, and when he came home in the +evening, ate his dinner in silence and then worked again. He brought home +account books and papers from the office and spread them out on a table in +the living room. His wife Priscilla sat in a large chair under a lamp and +knitted children's stockings. They were, she told Clara, for the children +of the poor. As a matter of fact the stockings never left her house. In a +large trunk in her room upstairs lay hundreds of pairs knitted during the +twenty-five years of her family life. + +Clara was not very happy in the Woodburn household, but on the other hand, +was not very unhappy. She attended to her studies at the University +passably well and in the late afternoons took a walk with a girl classmate, +attended a matinee at the theater, or read a book. In the evening she sat +with her aunt and uncle until she could no longer bear the silence, and +then went to her own room, where she studied until it was time to go to +bed. Now and then she went with the two older people to a social affair at +the church, of which Henderson Woodburn was treasurer, or accompanied them +to dinners at the homes of other well-to-do and respectable business men. +On several occasions young men, sons of the people with whom the Woodburns +dined, or students at the university, came in the evening to call. On such +an occasion Clara and the young man sat in the parlor of the house and +talked. After a time they grew silent and embarrassed in each other's +presence. From the next room Clara could hear the rustling of the papers +containing the columns of figures over which her uncle was at work. Her +aunt's knitting needles clicked loudly. The young man told a tale of some +football game, or if he had already gone out into the world, talked of his +experiences as a traveler selling the wares manufactured or merchandized by +his father. Such visits all began at the same hour, eight o'clock, and the +young man left the house promptly at ten. Clara grew to feel that she was +being merchandized and that they had come to look at the goods. One evening +one of the men, a fellow with laughing blue eyes and kinky yellow hair, +unconsciously disturbed her profoundly. All the evening he talked just as +the others had talked and got out of his chair to go away at the prescribed +hour. Clara walked with him to the door. She put out her hand, which he +shook cordially. Then he looked at her and his eyes twinkled. "I've had +a good time," he said. Clara had a sudden and almost overpowering desire +to embrace him. She wanted to disturb his assurance, to startle him by +kissing him on the lips or holding him tightly in her arms. Shutting the +door quickly, she stood with her hand on the door-knob, her whole body +trembling. The trivial by-products of her age's industrial madness went +on in the next room. The sheets of paper rustled and the knitting needles +clicked. Clara thought she would like to call the young man back into the +house, lead him to the room where the meaningless industry went endlessly +on and there do something that would shock them and him as they had never +been shocked before. She ran quickly upstairs. "What is getting to be the +matter with me?" she asked herself anxiously. + + * * * * * + +One evening in the month of May, during her third year at the University, +Clara sat on the bank of a tiny stream by a grove of trees, far out on the +edge of a suburban village north of Columbus. Beside her sat a young man +named Frank Metcalf whom she had known for a year and who had once been a +student in the same classes with herself. He was the son of the president +of the plow manufacturing company of which her uncle was treasurer. As they +sat together by the stream the afternoon light began to fade and darkness +came on. Before them across an open field stood a factory, and Clara +remembered that the whistle had long since blown and the men from the +factory had gone home. She grew restless and sprang to her feet. Young +Metcalf who had been talking very earnestly arose and stood beside her. +"I can't marry for two years, but we can be engaged and that will be all +the same thing as far as the right and wrong of what I want and need is +concerned. It isn't my fault I can't ask you to marry me now," he declared. +"In two years now, I'll inherit eleven thousand dollars. My aunt left it to +me and the old fool went and fixed it so I don't get it if I marry before +I'm twenty-four. I want that money. I've got to have it, but I got to have +you too." + +Clara looked away into the evening darkness and waited for him to finish +his speech. All afternoon he had been making practically the same speech, +over and over. "Well, I can't help it, I'm a man," he said doggedly. "I +can't help it, I want you. I can't help it, my aunt was an old fool." He +began to explain the necessity of remaining unmarried in order that he +could receive the eleven thousand dollars. "If I don't get that money I'll +be just the same as I am now," he declared. "I won't be any good." He grew +angry and, thrusting his hands into his pockets, stared also across the +field into the darkness. "Nothing keeps me satisfied," he said. "I hate +being in my father's business and I hate going to school. In only two years +I'll get the money. Father can't keep it from me. I'll take it and light +out. I don't know just what I'll do. I'm going maybe to Europe, that's what +I'm going to do. Father wants me to stay here and work in his office. To +hell with that. I want to travel. I'll be a soldier or something. Anyway +I'll get out of here and go somewhere and do something exciting, something +alive. You can go with me. We'll cut out together. Haven't you got the +nerve? Why don't you be my woman?" + +Young Metcalf took hold of Clara's shoulder and tried to take her into his +arms. For a moment they struggled and then, in disgust, he stepped away +from her and again began to scold. + +Clara walked away across two or three vacant lots and got into a street of +workingmen's houses, the man following at her heels. Night had come and the +people in the street facing the factory had already disposed of the evening +meal. Children and dogs played in the road and a strong smell of food hung +in the air. To the west across the fields, a passenger train ran past going +toward the city. Its light made wavering yellow patches against the bluish +black sky. Clara wondered why she had come to the out of the way place with +Frank Metcalf. She did not like him, but there was a restlessness in him +that was like the restless thing in herself. He did not want stupidly to +accept life, and that fact made him brother to herself. Although he was but +twenty-two years old, he had already achieved an evil reputation. A servant +in his father's house had given birth to a child by him, and it had cost a +good deal of money to get her to take the child and go away without making +an open scandal. During the year before he had been expelled from the +University for throwing another young man down a flight of stairs, and it +was whispered about among the girl students that he often got violently +drunk. For a year he had been trying to ingratiate himself with Clara, had +written her letters, sent flowers to her house, and when he met her on the +street had stopped to urge that she accept his friendship. On the day in +May she had met him on the street and he had begged that she give him one +chance to talk things out with her. They had met at a street crossing where +cars went past into the suburban villages that lay about the city. "Come +on," he had urged, "let's take a street car ride, let's get out of the +crowds, I want to talk to you." He had taken hold of her arm and fairly +dragged her to a car. "Come and hear what I have to say," he had urged, +"then if you don't want to have anything to do with me, all right. You +can say so and I'll let you alone." After she had accompanied him to the +suburb of workingmen's houses, in the vicinity of which they had spent the +afternoon in the fields, Clara had found he had nothing to urge upon her +except the needs of his body. Still she felt there was something he wanted +to say that had not been said. He was restless and dissatisfied with his +life, and at bottom she felt that way about her own life. During the last +three years she had often wondered why she had come to the school and what +she was to gain by learning things out of books. The days and months went +past and she knew certain rather uninteresting facts she had not known +before. How the facts were to help her to live, she couldn't make out. +They had nothing to do with such problems as her attitude toward men like +John May the farm hand, the school teacher who had taught her something by +holding her in his arms and kissing her, and the dark sullen young man who +now walked beside her and talked of the needs of his body. It seemed to +Clara that every additional year spent at the University but served to +emphasize its inadequacy. It was so also with the books she read and the +thoughts and actions of the older people about her. Her aunt and uncle +did not talk much, but seemed to take it for granted she wanted to live +such another life as they were living. She thought with horror of the +probability of marrying a maker of plows or of some other dull necessity +of life and then spending her days in the making of stockings for babies +that did not come, or in some other equally futile manifestation of her +dissatisfaction. She realized with a shudder that men like her uncle, who +spent their lives in adding up rows of figures or doing over and over some +tremendously trivial thing, had no conception of any outlook for their +women beyond living in a house, serving them physically, wearing perhaps +good enough clothes to help them make a show of prosperity and success, and +drifting finally into a stupid acceptance of dullness--an acceptance that +both she and the passionate, twisted man beside her were fighting against. + +In a class in the University Clara had met, during that her third year +there, a woman named Kate Chanceller, who had come to Columbus with her +brother from a town in Missouri, and it was this woman who had given her +thoughts form, who had indeed started her thinking of the inadequacy of +her life. The brother, a studious, quiet man, worked as a chemist in a +manufacturing plant somewhere at the edge of town. He was a musician and +wanted to become a composer. One evening during the winter his sister Kate +had brought Clara to the apartment where the two lived, and the three had +become friends. Clara had learned something there that she did not yet +understand and never did get clearly into her consciousness. The truth was +that the brother was like a woman and Kate Chanceller, who wore skirts and +had the body of a woman, was in her nature a man. Kate and Clara spent many +evenings together later and talked of many things not usually touched on by +girl students. Kate was a bold, vigorous thinker and was striving to grope +her way through her own problem in life and many times, as they walked +along the street or sat together in the evening, she forgot her companion +and talked of herself and the difficulties of her position in life. "It's +absurd the way things are arranged," she said. "Because my body is made +in a certain way I'm supposed to accept certain rules for living. The +rules were not made for me. Men manufactured them as they manufacture +can-openers, on the wholesale plan." She looked at Clara and laughed. "Try +to imagine me in a little lace cap, such as your aunt wears about the +house, and spending my days knitting baby stockings," she said. + +The two women had spent hours talking of their lives and in speculating +on the differences in their natures. The experience had been tremendously +educational for Clara. As Kate was a socialist and Columbus was rapidly +becoming an industrial city, she talked of the meaning of capital and labor +and the effect of changing conditions on the lives of men and women. To +Kate, Clara could talk as to a man, but the antagonism that so often exists +between men and women did not come into and spoil their companionship. In +the evening when Clara went to Kate's house her aunt sent a carriage to +bring her home at nine. Kate rode home with her. They got to the Woodburn +house and went in. Kate was bold and free with the Woodburns, as with her +brother and Clara. "Come," she said laughing, "put away your figures and +your knitting. Let's talk." She sat in a large chair with her legs crossed +and talked with Henderson Woodburn of the affairs of the plow company. The +two got into a discussion of the relative merits of the free trade and +protection ideas. Then the two older people went to bed and Kate talked to +Clara. "Your uncle is an old duffer," she said. "He knows nothing about the +meaning of what he's doing in life." When she started home afoot across the +city, Clara was alarmed for her safety. "You must get a cab or let me wake +up uncle's man; something may happen," she said. Kate laughed and went off, +striding along the street like a man. Sometimes she thrust her hands into +her skirt pockets, that were like the trouser pockets of a man, and it was +difficult for Clara to remember that she was a woman. In Kate's presence +she became bolder than she had ever been with any one. One evening she told +the story of the thing that had happened to her that afternoon long before +on the farm, the afternoon when, her mind having been inflamed by the words +of Jim Priest regarding the sap that goes up the tree and by the warm +sensuous beauty of the day, she had wanted so keenly to draw close to some +one. She explained to Kate how she had been so brutally jarred out of the +feeling in herself that she felt was at bottom all right. "It was like a +blow in the face at the hand of God," she said. + +Kate Chanceller was excited as Clara told the tale and listened with a +fiery light burning in her eyes. Something in her manner encouraged Clara +to tell also of her experiments with the school teacher and for the first +time she got a sense of justice toward men by talking to the woman who was +half a man. "I know that wasn't square," she said. "I know now, when I talk +to you, but I didn't know then. With the school teacher I was as unfair as +John May and my father were with me. Why do men and women have to fight +each other? Why does the battle between them have to go on?" + +Kate walked up and down before Clara and swore like a man. "Oh, hell," she +exclaimed, "men are such fools and I suppose women are as bad. They are +both too much one thing. I fall in between. I've got my problem too, but +I'm not going to talk about it. I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to +find some kind of work and do it." She began to talk of the stupidity of +men in their approach to women. "Men hate such women as myself," she said. +"They can't use us, they think. What fools! They should watch and study us. +Many of us spend our lives loving other women, but we have skill. Being +part women, we know how to approach women. We are not blundering and crude. +Men want a certain thing from you. It is delicate and easy to kill. Love +is the most sensitive thing in the world. It's like an orchid. Men try to +pluck orchids with ice tongs, the fools." + +Walking to where Clara stood by a table, and taking her by the shoulder, +the excited woman stood for a long time looking at her. Then she picked up +her hat, put it on her head, and with a flourish of her hand started for +the door. "You can depend on my friendship," she said. "I'll do nothing to +confuse you. You'll be in luck if you can get that kind of love or +friendship from a man." + +Clara kept thinking of the words of Kate Chanceller on the evening when she +walked through the streets of the suburban village with Frank Metcalf, and +later as the two sat on the car that took them back to the city. With the +exception of another student named Phillip Grimes, who had come to see her +a dozen times during her second year in the University, young Metcalf was +the only one of perhaps a dozen men she had met since leaving the farm who +had been attracted to her. Phillip Grimes was a slender young fellow with +blue eyes, yellow hair and a not very vigorous mustache. He was from a +small town in the northern end of the State, where his father published a +weekly newspaper. When he came to see Clara he sat on the edge of his chair +and talked rapidly. Some person he had seen in the street had interested +him. "I saw an old woman on the car," he began. "She had a basket on her +arm. It was filled with groceries. She sat beside me and talked aloud to +herself." Clara's visitor repeated the words of the old woman on the car. +He speculated about her, wondered what her life was like. When he had +talked of the old woman for ten or fifteen minutes, he dropped the subject +and began telling of another experience, this time with a man who sold +fruit at a street crossing. It was impossible to be personal with Phillip +Grimes. Nothing but his eyes were personal. Sometimes he looked at Clara in +a way that I made her feel that her clothes were being stripped from her +body, and that she was being made to stand naked in the room before her +visitor. The experience, when it came, was not entirely a physical one. It +was only in part that. When the thing happened Clara saw her whole life +being stripped bare. "Don't look at me like that," she once said somewhat +sharply, when his eyes had made her so uncomfortable she could no longer +remain silent. Her remark had frightened Phillip Grimes away. He got up at +once, blushed, stammered something about having another engagement, and +hurried away. + +In the street car, homeward bound beside Frank Metcalf, Clara thought of +Phillip Grimes and wondered whether or not he would have stood the test of +Kate Chanceller's speech regarding love and friendship. He had confused +her, but that was perhaps her own fault. He had not insisted on himself +at all. Frank Metcalf had done nothing else. "One should be able," she +thought, "to find somewhere a man who respects himself and his own desires +but can understand also the desires and fears of a woman." The street car +went bouncing along over railroad crossings and along residence streets. +Clara looked at her companion, who stared straight ahead, and then turned +to look out of the car window. The window was open and she could see the +interiors of the laborers' houses along the streets. In the evening with +the lamps lighted they seemed cosy and comfortable. Her mind ran back to +the life in her father's house and its loneliness. For two summers she had +escaped going home. At the end of her first year in school she had made an +illness of her uncle's an excuse for spending the summer in Columbus, and +at the end of the second year she had found another excuse for not going. +This year she felt she would have to go home. She would have to sit day +after day at the farm table with the farm hands. Nothing would happen. Her +father would remain silent in her presence. She would become bored and +weary of the endless small talk of the town girls. If one of the town boys +began to pay her special attention, her father would become suspicious and +that would lead to resentment in herself. She would do something she did +not want to do. In the houses along the streets through which the car +passed, she saw women moving about. Babies cried and men came out of the +doors and stood talking to one another on the sidewalks. She decided +suddenly that she was taking the problem of her own life too seriously. +"The thing to do is to get married and then work things out afterward," she +told herself. She made up her mind that the puzzling, insistent antagonism +that existed between men and women was altogether due to the fact that they +were not married and had not the married people's way of solving such +problems as Frank Metcalf had been talking about all afternoon. She wished +she were with Kate Chancellor so that she could discuss with her this new +viewpoint. When she and Frank Metcalf got off the car she was no longer in +a hurry to go home to her uncle's house. Knowing she did not want to marry +him, she thought that in her turn she would talk, that she would try to +make him see her point of view as all the afternoon he had been trying to +make her see his. + +For an hour the two people walked about and Clara talked. She forgot about +the passage of time and the fact that she had not dined. Not wishing to +talk of marriage, she talked instead of the possibility of friendship +between men and women. As she talked her own mind seemed to her to have +become clearer. "It's all foolishness your going on as you have," she +declared. "I know how dissatisfied and unhappy you sometimes are. I often +feel that way myself. Sometimes I think it's marriage I want. I really +think I want to draw close to some one. I believe every one is hungry for +that experience. We all want something we are not willing to pay for. We +want to steal it or have it given us. That's what's the matter with me, and +that's what's the matter with you." + +They came to the Woodburn house, and turning in stood on a porch in the +darkness by the front door. At the back of the house Clara could see +a light burning. Her aunt and uncle were at the eternal figuring and +knitting. They were finding a substitute for living. It was the thing Frank +Metcalf was protesting against and was the real reason for her own constant +secret protest. She took hold of the lapel of his coat, intending to make a +plea, to urge upon him the idea of a friendship that would mean something +to them both. In the darkness she could not see his rather heavy, sullen +face. The maternal instinct became strong in her and she thought of him +as a wayward, dissatisfied boy, wanting love and understanding as she had +wanted to be loved and understood by her father when life in the moment of +the awakening of her womanhood seemed ugly and brutal. With her free hand +she stroked the sleeve of his coat. Her gesture was misunderstood by the +man who was not thinking of her words but of her body and of his hunger +to possess it. He took her into his arms and held her tightly against his +breast. She tried to struggle, to tear herself away but, although she was +strong and muscular, she found herself unable to move. As he held her +uncle, who had heard the two people come up the steps to the door, threw it +open. Both he and his wife had on several occasions warned Clara to have +nothing to do with young Metcalf. One day when he had sent flowers to the +house, her aunt had urged her to refuse to receive them. "He's a bad, +dissipated, wicked man," she had said. "Have nothing to do with him." When +he saw his niece in the arms of the man who had been the subject of so much +discussion in his own house and in every respectable house in Columbus, +Henderson Woodburn was furious. He forgot the fact that young Metcalf was +the son of the president of the company of which he was treasurer. It +seemed to him that some sort of a personal insult had been thrown at him by +a common ruffian. "Get out of here," he screamed. "What do you mean, you +nasty villain? Get out of here." + +Frank Metcalf went off along the street laughing defiantly, and Clara went +into the house. The sliding doors that led into the living room had been +thrown open and the light from a hanging lamp streamed in upon her. Her +hair was disheveled and her hat twisted to one side. The man and woman +stared at her. The knitting needles and a sheet of paper held in their +hands suggested what they had been doing while Clara was getting another +lesson from life. Her aunt's hands trembled and the knitting needles +clicked together. Nothing was said and the confused and angry girl ran up a +stairway to her own room. She locked herself in and knelt on the floor by +the bed. She did not pray. Her association with Kate Chanceller had given +her another outlet for her feelings. Pounding with her fists on the bed +coverings, she swore. "Fools, damned fools, the world is filled with +nothing but a lot of damned fools." + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Clara Butterworth left Bidwell, Ohio, in September of the year in which +Steve Hunter's plant-setting machine company went into the hands of a +receiver, and in January of the next year that enterprising young man, +together with Tom Butterworth, bought the plant. In March a new company was +organized and at once began making Hugh's corn-cutting machine, a success +from the beginning. The failure of the first company and the sale of the +plant had created a furor in the town. Both Steve and Tom Butterworth +could, however, point to the fact that they had held on to their stock and +lost their money in common with every one else. Tom had indeed sold his +stock because he needed ready money, as he explained, but had shown his +good faith by buying again just before the failure. "Do you suppose I would +have done that had I known what was up?" he asked the men assembled in the +stores. "Go look at the books of the company. Let's have an investigation +here. You will find that Steve and I stuck to the rest of the stockholders. +We lost our money with the rest. If any one was crooked and when they saw a +failure coming went and got out from under at the expense of some one else, +it wasn't Steve and me. The books of the company will show we were game. It +wasn't our fault the plant-setting machine wouldn't work." + +In the back room of the bank, John Clark and young Gordon Hart cursed Steve +and Tom, who, they declared, had sold them out. They had lost no money by +the failure, but on the other hand they had gained nothing. The four men +had sent in a bid for the plant when it was put up for sale, but as they +expected no competition, they had not bid very much. It had gone to a firm +of Cleveland lawyers who bid a little more, and later had been resold at +private sale to Steve and Tom. An investigation was started and it was +found that Steve and Tom held large blocks of stock in the defunct company, +while the bankers held practically none. Steve openly said that he had +known of the possibility of failure for some time and had warned the larger +stock-holders and asked them not to sell their stock. "While I was working +my head off trying to save the company, what were they up to?" he asked +sharply, and his question was repeated in the stores and in the homes of +the people. + +The truth of the matter, and the thing the town never found out, was that +from the beginning Steve had intended to get the plant for himself, but at +the last had decided it would be better to take some one in with him. He +was afraid of John Clark. For two or three days he thought about the matter +and decided that the banker was not to be trusted. "He's too good a friend +to Tom Butterworth," he told himself. "If I tell him my scheme, he'll tell +Tom. I'll go to Tom myself. He's a money maker and a man who knows the +difference between a bicycle and a wheelbarrow when you put one of them +into bed with him." + +Steve drove out to Tom's house late one evening in September. He hated to +go but was convinced it would be better to do so. "I don't want to burn +all my bridges behind me," he told himself. "I've got to have at least one +friend among the solid men here in town. I've got to do business with these +rubes, maybe all my life. I can't shut myself off too much, at least not +yet a while." + +When Steve got to the farm he asked Tom to get into his buggy, and the two +men went for a long drive. The horse, a gray gelding with one blind eye +hired for the occasion from liveryman Neighbors, went slowly along through +the hill country south of Bidwell. He had hauled hundreds of young men with +their sweethearts. Ambling slowly along, thinking perhaps of his own youth +and of the tyranny of man that had made him a gelding, he knew that as long +as the moon shone and the intense voiceless quiet continued to reign over +the two people in the buggy, the whip would not come out of its socket and +he would not be expected to hurry. + +On the September evening, however, the gray gelding had behind him such a +load as he had never carried before. The two people in the buggy on that +evening were not foolish, meandering sweethearts, thinking only of love, +and allowing themselves to be influenced in their mood by the beauty of the +night, the softness of the black shadows in the road, and the gentle night +winds that crept down over the crests of hills. They were solid business +men, mentors of the new age, the kind of men who, in the future of America +and perhaps of the whole world, were to be the makers of governments, the +molders of public opinion, the owners of the press, the publishers of +books, buyers of pictures, and in the goodness of their hearts, the feeders +of an occasional starving and improvident poet, lost on other roads. In any +event the two men sat in the buggy and the gray gelding meandered along +through the hills. Great splashes of moonlight lay in the road. By chance +it was on the same evening that Clara Butterworth left home to become a +student in the State University. Remembering the kindness and tenderness of +the rough old farm hand, Jim Priest, who had brought her to the station, +she lay in her berth in the sleeping car and looked out at the roads, +washed with moonlight, that slid away into the distance like ghosts. She +thought of her father on that night and of the misunderstanding that had +grown up between them. For the moment she was tender with regrets. "After +all, Jim Priest and my father must be a good deal alike," she thought. +"They have lived on the same farm, eaten the same food; they both love +horses. There can't be any great difference between them." All night she +thought of the matter. An obsession, that the whole world was aboard the +moving train and that, as it ran swiftly along, it was carrying the people +of the world into some strange maze of misunderstanding, took possession +of her. So strong was it that it affected her deeply buried unconscious +self and made her terribly afraid. It seemed to her that the walls of the +sleeping-car berth were like the walls of a prison that had shut her away +from the beauty of life. The walls seemed to close in upon her. The walls, +like life itself, were shutting in upon her youth and her youthful desire +to reach a hand out of the beauty in herself to the buried beauty in +others. She sat up in the berth and forced down a desire in herself to +break the car window and leap out of the swiftly moving train into the +quiet night bathed with moonlight. With girlish generosity she took upon +her own shoulders the responsibility for the misunderstanding that had +grown up between herself and her father. Later she lost the impulse that +led her to come to that decision, but during that night it persisted. It +was, in spite of the terror caused by the hallucination regarding the +moving walls of the berth that seemed about to crush her and that came back +time after time, the most beautiful night she had ever lived through, and +it remained in her memory throughout her life. She in fact came to think +later of that night as the time when, most of all, it would have been +beautiful and right for her to have been able to give herself to a lover. +Although she did not know it, the kiss on the cheek from the bewhiskered +lips of Jim Priest had no doubt something to do with that thought when it +came. + +And while the girl fought her battle with the strangeness of life and tried +to break through the imaginary walls that shut her off from the opportunity +to live, her father also rode through the night. With a shrewd eye he +watched the face of Steve Hunter. It had already begun to get a little fat, +but Tom realized suddenly that it was the face of a man of ability. There +was something about the jowls that made Tom, who had dealt much in live +stock, think of the face of a pig. "The man goes after what he wants. He's +greedy," the farmer thought. "Now he's up to something. To get what he +wants he'll give me a chance to get something I want. He's going to make +some kind of proposal to me in connection with the factory. He's hatched up +a scheme to shut Gordon Hart and John Clark out because he doesn't want too +many partners. All right, I'll go in with him. Either one of them would +have done the same thing had they had the chance." + +Steve smoked a black cigar and talked. As he grew more sure of himself and +the affairs that absorbed him, he also became more smooth and persuasive in +the matter of words. He talked for a time of the necessity of certain men's +surviving and growing constantly stronger and stronger in the industrial +world. "It's necessary for the good of the community," he said. "A few +fairly strong men are a good thing for a town, but if they are fewer +and relatively stronger it's better." He turned to look sharply at his +companion. "Well," he exclaimed, "we talked there in the bank of what we +would do when things went to pieces down at the factory, but there were too +many men in the scheme. I didn't realize it at the time, but I do now." He +knocked the ashes off his cigar and laughed. "You know what they did, don't +you?" he asked. "I asked you all not to sell any of your stock. I didn't +want to get the whole town bitter. They wouldn't have lost anything. I +promised to see them through, to get the plant for them at a low price, +to put them in the way to make some real money. They played the game in a +small-town way. Some men can think of thousands of dollars, others have to +think of hundreds. It's all their minds are big enough to comprehend. They +snatch at a little measly advantage and miss the big one. That's what these +men have done." + +For a long time the two rode in silence. Tom, who had also sold his stock, +wondered if Steve knew. He decided he did. "However, he's decided to deal +with me. He needs some one and has chosen me," he thought. He made up his +mind to be bold. After all, Steve was young. Only a year or two before he +was nothing but a young upstart and the very boys in the street laughed at +him. Tom grew a little indignant, but was careful to take thought before +he spoke. "Perhaps, although he's young and don't look like much, he's a +faster and shrewder thinker than any of us," he told himself. + +"You do talk like a fellow who has something up his sleeve," he said +laughing. "If you want to know, I sold my stock the same as the others. I +wasn't going to take a chance of being a loser if I could help it. It may +be the small-town way, but you know things maybe I don't know. You can't +blame me for living up to my lights. I always did believe in the survival +of the fittest and I got a daughter to support and put through college. I +want to make a lady of her. You ain't got any kids yet and you're younger. +Maybe you want to take chances I don't want to take. How do I know what +you're up to?" + +Again the two rode in silence. Steve had prepared himself for the talk. He +knew there was a chance that, in its turn, the corn-cutting machine Hugh +had invented might not prove practical and that in the end he might be +left with a factory on his hands and with nothing to manufacture in it. He +did not, however, hesitate. Again, as on the day in the bank when he was +confronted by the two older men, he made a bluff. "Well, you can come in or +stay out, just as you wish," he said a little sharply. "I'm going to get +hold of that factory, if I can, and I'm going to manufacture corn-cutting +machines. Already I have promises of orders enough to keep running for a +year. I can't take you in with me and have it said around town you were +one of the fellows who sold out the small investors. I've got a hundred +thousand dollars of stock in the company. You can have half of it. I'll +take your note for the fifty thousand. You won't ever have to pay it. The +earnings of the new factory will clean you up. You got to come clean, +though. Of course you can go get John Clark and come out and make an open +fight to get the factory yourselves, if you want to. I own the rights to +the corn-cutting machine and will take it somewhere else and manufacture +it. I don't mind telling you that, if we split up, I will pretty well +advertise what you three fellows did to the small investors after I asked +you not to do it. You can all stay here and own your empty factory and get +what satisfaction you can out of the love and respect you'll get from the +people. You can do what you please. I don't care. My hands are clean. I +ain't done anything I'm ashamed of, and if you want to come in with me, you +and I together will pull off something in this town we don't neither one of +us have to be ashamed of." + +The two men drove back to the Butterworth farm house and Tom got out of the +buggy. He intended to tell Steve to go to the devil, but as they drove +along the road, he changed his mind. The young school teacher from Bidwell, +who had come on several occasions to call on his daughter Clara, was on +that night abroad with another young woman. He sat in a buggy with his arm +around her waist and drove slowly through the hill country. Tom and Steve +drove past them and the farmer, seeing in the moonlight the woman in the +arms of the man, imagined his daughter in her place. The thought made him +furious. "I'm losing the chance to be a big man in the town here in order +to play safe and be sure of money to leave to Clara, and all she cares +about is to galavant around with some young squirt," he thought bitterly. +He began to see himself as a wronged and unappreciated father. When he +got out of the buggy, he stood for a moment by the wheel and looked hard +at Steve. "I'm as good a sport as you are," he said finally. "Bring +around your stock and I'll give you the note. That's all it will be, you +understand: just my note. I don't promise to back it up with any collateral +and I don't expect you to offer it for sale." Steve leaned out of the buggy +and took him by the hand. "I won't sell your note, Tom," he said. "I'll +put it away. I want a partner to help me. You and I are going to do things +together." + +The young promoter drove off along the road, and Tom went into the house +and to bed. Like his daughter he did not sleep. For a time he thought of +her and in imagination saw her again in the buggy with the school teacher +who had her in his arms. The thought made him stir restlessly about beneath +the sheets. "Damn women anyway," he muttered. To relieve his mind he +thought of other things. "I'll make out a deed and turn three of my farms +over to Clara," he decided shrewdly. "If things go wrong we won't be +entirely broke. I know Charlie Jacobs in the court-house over at the county +seat. I ought to be able to get a deed recorded without any one knowing it +if I oil Charlie's hand a little." + + * * * * * + +Clara's last two weeks in the Woodburn household were spent in the midst of +a struggle, no less intense because no words were said. Both Henderson +Wood, burn and his wife felt that Clara owed them an explanation of the +scene at the front door with Frank Metcalf. When she did not offer it they +were offended. When he threw open the door and confronted the two people, +the plow manufacturer had got an impression that Clara was trying to escape +Frank Metcalf's embraces. He told his wife that he did not think she was +to blame for the scene on the front porch. Not being the girl's father he +could look at the matter coldly. "She's a good girl," he declared. "That +beast of a Frank Metcalf is all to blame. I daresay he followed her home. +She's upset now, but in the morning she'll tell us the story of what +happened." + +The days went past and Clara said nothing. During her last week in the +house she and the two older people scarcely spoke. The young woman was in +an odd way relieved. Every evening she went to dine with Kate Chanceller +who, when she heard the story of the afternoon in the suburb and the +incident on the porch, went off without Clara's knowing of it and had a +talk with Henderson Woodburn in his office. After the talk the manufacturer +was puzzled and just a little afraid of both Clara and her friend. He tried +to tell his wife about it, but was not very clear. "I can't make it out," +he said. "She is the kind of woman I can't understand, that Kate. She says +Clara wasn't to blame for what happened between her and Frank Metcalf, but +don't want to tell us the story, because she thinks young Metcalf wasn't to +blame either." Although he had been respectful and courteous as he listened +to Kate's talk, he grew angry when he tried to tell his wife what she had +said. "I'm afraid it was just a lot of mixed up nonsense," he declared. +"It makes me glad we haven't a daughter. If neither of them were to blame +what were they up to? What's getting the matter with the women of the +new generation? When you come down to it what's the matter with Kate +Chanceller?" + +The plow manufacturer advised his wife to say nothing to Clara. "Let's wash +our hands of it," he suggested. "She'll go home in a few days now and we +will say nothing about her coming back next year. Let's be polite, but act +as though she didn't exist." + +Clara accepted the new attitude of her uncle and aunt without comment. In +the afternoon she did not come home from the University but went to Kate's +apartment. The brother came home and after dinner played on the piano. At +ten o'clock Clara started home afoot and Kate accompanied her. The two +women went out of their way to sit on a bench in a park. They talked of +a thousand hidden phases of life Clara had hardly dared think of before. +During all the rest of her life she thought of those last weeks in Columbus +as the most deeply satisfactory time she ever lived through. In the +Woodburn house she was uncomfortable because of the silence and the hurt, +offended look on her aunt's face, but she did not spend much time there. +In the morning Henderson Woodburn ate his breakfast alone at seven, and +clutching his ever present portfolio of papers, was driven off to the plow +factory. Clara and her aunt had a silent breakfast at eight, and then +Clara also hurried away. "I'll be out for lunch and will go to Kate's for +dinner," she said as she went out of her aunt's presence, and she said it, +not with the air of one asking permission as had been her custom before the +Frank Metcalf incident, but as one having the right to dispose of her own +time. Only once did her aunt break the frigid air of offended dignity she +had assumed. One morning she followed Clara to the front door, and as she +watched her go down the steps from the front porch to the walk that led to +the street, called to her. Some faint recollection of a time of revolt in +her own youth perhaps came to her. Tears came into her eyes. To her the +world was a place of terror, where wolf-like men prowled about seeking +women to devour, and she was afraid something dreadful would happen to her +niece. "If you don't want to tell me anything, it's all right," she said +bravely, "but I wish you felt you could." When Clara turned to look at her, +she hastened to explain. "Mr. Woodburn said I wasn't to bother you about it +and I won't," she added quickly. Nervously folding and unfolding her arms, +she turned to stare up the street with the air of a frightened child that +looks into a den of beasts. "O Clara, be a good girl," she said. "I know +you're grown up now, but, O Clara, do be careful! Don't get into trouble." + +The Woodburn house in Columbus, like the Butterworth house in the country +south of Bidwell, sat on a hill. The street fell away rather sharply as one +went toward the business portion of the city and the street car line, and +on the morning when her aunt spoke to her and tried with her feeble hands +to tear some stones out of the wall that was being built between them, +Clara hurried along the street under the trees, feeling as though she would +like also to weep. She saw no possibility of explaining to her aunt the new +thoughts she was beginning to have about life and did not want to hurt her +by trying. "How can I explain my thoughts when they're not clear in my own +mind, when I am myself just groping blindly about?" she asked herself. "She +wants me to be good," she thought. "What would she think if I told her that +I had come to the conclusion that, judging by her standards, I have been +altogether too good? What's the use trying to talk to her when I would only +hurt her and make things harder than ever?" She got to a street crossing +and looked back. Her aunt was still standing at the door of her house and +looking at her. There was something soft, small, round, insistent, both +terribly weak and terribly strong about the completely feminine thing she +had made of herself or that life had made of her. Clara shuddered. She did +not make a symbol of the figure of her aunt and her mind did not form +a connection between her aunt's life and what she had become, as Kate +Chanceller's mind would have done. She saw the little, round, weeping woman +as a boy, walking in the tree-lined streets of a town, sees suddenly the +pale face and staring eyes of a prisoner that looks out at him through +the iron bars of a town jail. Clara was startled as the boy would be +startled and, like the boy, she wanted to run quickly away. "I must think +of something else and of other kinds of women or I'll get things terribly +distorted," she told herself. "If I think of her and women like her I'll +grow afraid of marriage, and I want to be married as soon as I can find the +right man. It's the only thing I can do. What else is there a woman can +do?" + +As Clara and Kate walked about in the evening, they talked continually of +the new position Kate believed women were on the point of achieving in the +world. The woman who was so essentially a man wanted to talk of marriage +and to condemn it, but continually fought the impulse in herself. She knew +that were she to let herself go she would say many things that, while they +might be true enough as regards herself, would not necessarily be true of +Clara. "Because I do not want to live with a man or be his wife is not very +good proof that the institution is wrong. It may be that I want to keep +Clara for myself. I think more of her than of any one else I've ever met. +How can I think straight about her marrying some man and becoming dulled to +the things that mean most to me?" she asked herself. One evening, when the +women were walking from Kate's apartment to the Woodburn house, they were +accosted by two men who wanted to walk with them. There was a small park +nearby and Kate led the men to it. "Come," she said, "we won't walk with +you, but you may sit with us here on a bench." The men sat down beside them +and the older one, a man with a small black mustache, made some remark +about the fineness of the night. The younger man who sat beside Clara +looked at her and laughed. Kate at once got down to business. "Well, you +wanted to walk with us: what for?" she asked sharply. She explained what +they had been doing. "We were walking and talking of women and what they +were to do with their lives," she explained. "We were expressing opinions, +you see. I don't say either of us had said anything that was very wise, but +we were having a good time and trying to learn something from each other. +Now what have you to say to us? You interrupted our talk and wanted to walk +with us: what for? You wanted to be in our company: now tell us what you've +got to contribute. You can't just come and walk with us like dumb things. +What have you got to offer that you think will make it worth while for us +to break up our conversation with each other and spend the time talking +with you?" + +The older man, he of the mustache, turned to look at Kate, then got up from +the bench. He walked a little away and then turned and made a sign with his +hand to his companion. "Come on," he said, "let's get out of here. We're +wasting our time. It's a cold trail. They're a couple of highbrows. Come +on, let's be on our way." + +The two women again walked along the street. Kate could not help feeling +somewhat proud of the way in which she had disposed of the men. She talked +of it until they got to the door of the Woodburn house, and, as she went +away along the street Clara thought she swaggered a little. She stood by +the door and watched her friend until she had disappeared around a corner. +A flash of doubt of the infallibility of Kate's method with men crossed her +mind. She remembered suddenly the soft brown eyes of the younger of the two +men in the park and wondered what was back of the eyes. Perhaps after all, +had she been alone with him, the man might have had something to say quite +as much to the point as the things she and Kate had been saying to each +other. "Kate made the men look like fools, but after all she wasn't very +fair," she thought as she went into the house. + + * * * * * + +Clara was in Bidwell for a month before she realized what a change had +taken place in the life of her home town. On the farm things went on very +much as always, except that her father was very seldom there. He had gone +deeply into the project of manufacturing and selling corn-cutting machines +with Steve Hunter, and attended to much of the selling of the output of the +factory. Almost every month he went on trips to cities of the West. Even +when he was in Bidwell, he had got into the habit of staying at the town +hotel for the night. "It's too much trouble to be always running back and +forth," he explained to Jim Priest, whom he had put in charge of the farm +work. He swaggered before the old man who for so many years had been almost +like a partner in his smaller activities. "Well, I wouldn't like to have +anything said, but I think it just as well to have an eye on what's going +on," he declared. "Steve's all right, but business is business. We're +dealing in big affairs, he and I. I don't say he would try to get the best +of me; I'm just telling you that in the future I'll have to be in town most +of the time and can't think of things out here. You look out for the farm. +Don't bother me with details. You just tell me about it when there is any +buying or selling to do." + +Clara arrived in Bidwell in the early afternoon of a warm day in June. The +hill country through which her train came into town was in the full flush +of its summer beauty. In the little patches of level land between the hills +grain was ripening in the fields. Along the streets of the tiny towns and +on dusty country roads farmers in overalls stood up in their wagons and +scolded at the horses, rearing and prancing in half pretended fright of the +passing train. In the forests on the hillsides the open places among the +trees looked cool and enticing. Clara put her cheek against the car window +and imagined herself wandering in cool forests with a lover. She forgot +the words of Kate Chanceller in regard to the independent future of women. +It was, she thought vaguely, a thing to be thought about only after some +more immediate problem was solved. Just what the problem was she didn't +definitely know, but she did know that it concerned some close warm contact +with life that she had as yet been unable to make. When she closed her +eyes, strong warm hands seemed to come out of nothingness and touch her +flushed cheeks. The fingers of the hands were strong like the branches of +trees. They touched with the firmness and gentleness of the branches of +trees nodding in a summer breeze. + +Clara sat up stiffly in her seat and when the train stopped at Bidwell got +off and went to her waiting father with a firm, business-like air. Coming +out of the land of dreams, she took on something of the determined air +of Kate Chanceller. She stared at her father and an onlooker might have +thought them two strangers, meeting for the purpose of discussing some +business arrangement. A flavor of something like suspicion hung over them. +They got into Tom's buggy, and as Main Street was torn up for the purpose +of laying a brick pavement and digging a new sewer, they drove by a +roundabout way through residence streets until they got into Medina Road. +Clara looked at her father and felt suddenly very alert and on her guard. +It seemed to her that she was far removed from the green, unsophisticated +girl who had so often walked in Bidwell's streets; that her mind and spirit +had expanded tremendously in the three years she had been away; and she +wondered if her father would realize the change in her. Either one of two +reactions on his part might, she felt, make her happy. The man might turn +suddenly and taking her hand receive her into fellowship, or he might +receive her as a woman and his daughter by kissing her. + +He did neither. They drove in silence through the town and passed over +a small bridge and into the road that led to the farm. Tom was curious +about his daughter and a little uncomfortable. Ever since the evening +on the porch of the farmhouse, when he had accused her of some unnamed +relationship with John May, he had felt guilty in her presence but had +succeeded in transferring the notion of guilt to her. While she was away +at school he had been comfortable. Sometimes he did not think of her for +a month at a time. Now she had written that she did not intend to go back. +She had not asked his advice, but had said positively that she was coming +home to stay. He wondered what was up. Had she got into another affair with +a man? He wanted to ask, had intended to ask, but in her presence found +that the words he had intended to say would not come to his lips. After +a long silence Clara began to ask questions about the farm, the men who +worked there, her aunt's health, the usual home-coming questions. Her +father answered with generalities. "They're all right," he said, "every one +and everything's all right." + +The road began to lift out of the valley in which the town lay, and Tom +stopped the horse and pointing with the whip talked of the town. He was +relieved to have the silence broken, and decided not to say anything about +the letter announcing the end of her school life. "You see there," he said, +pointing to where the wall of a new brick factory arose above the trees +that grew beside the river. "That's a new factory we're building. We're +going to make corn-cutting machines there. The old factory's already too +small. We've sold it to a new company that's going to manufacture bicycles. +Steve Hunter and I sold it. We got twice what we paid for it. When the +bicycle factory's started, he and I'll own the control in that too. I tell +you the town's on the boom." + +Tom boasted of his new position in the town and Clara turned and looked +sharply at him and then looked quickly away. He was annoyed by the action +and a flush of anger came to his cheeks. A side of his character his +daughter had never seen before came to the surface. When he was a simple +farmer he had been too shrewd to attempt to play the aristocrat with his +farm hands, but often, as he went about the barns and as he drove along +country roads and saw men at work in his fields, he had felt like a prince +in the presence of his vassals. Now he talked like a prince. It was that +that had startled Clara. There was about him an indefinable air of princely +prosperity. When she turned to look at him she noticed for the first time +how much his person had also changed. Like Steve Hunter he was beginning +to grow fat. The lean hardness of his cheeks had gone, his jaws seemed +heavier, even his hands had changed their color. He wore a diamond ring on +the left hand and it glistened in the sunlight. "Things have changed," he +declared, still pointing at the town. "Do you want to know who changed it? +Well, I had more to do with it than any one else. Steve thinks he did it +all, but he didn't. I'm the man who has done the most. He put through the +plant-setting machine company, but that was a failure. When you come right +down to it, things would have gone to pieces again if I hadn't gone to John +Clark and talked and bluffed him into giving us money when we wanted it. I +had most to do with finding the big market for our corn-cutters, too. Steve +lied to me and said he had 'em all sold for a year. He didn't have any sold +at all." + +Tom struck the horse with the whip and drove rapidly along the road. Even +when the climb became difficult he would not let the horse walk, but kept +cracking the whip over his back. "I'm a different man than I was when you +went away," he declared. "You might as well know it, I'm the big man in +this town. It comes pretty near being my town when you come right down to +it. I'm going to take care of every one in Bidwell and give every one a +chance to make money, but it's my town now pretty near and you might as +well know it." + +Embarrassed by his own words, Tom talked to cover his embarrassment. +Something he wanted very much to say got itself said. "I'm glad you went +to school and fitted yourself to be a lady," he began. "I want you should +marry pretty soon now. I don't know whether you met any one at school there +or not. If you did and he's all right, it's all right with me. I don't +want you should marry an ordinary man, but a smart one, an educated man, a +gentleman. We Butterworths are going to be bigger and bigger people here. +If you get married to a good man, a smart one, I'll build a house for you; +not just a little house but a big place, the biggest place Bidwell ever +seen." They came to the farm and Tom stopped the buggy in the road. He +shouted to a man in the barnyard who came running for her bags. When she +had got out of the buggy he immediately turned the horse about and drove +rapidly away. Her aunt, a large, moist woman, met her on the steps leading +to the front door, and embraced her warmly. The words her father had just +spoken ran a riotous course through Clara's brain. She realized that for +a year she had been thinking of marriage, had been wanting some man to +approach and talk of marriage, but she had not thought of the matter in the +way her father had put it. The man had spoken of her as though she were a +possession of his that must be disposed of. He had a personal interest in +her marriage. It was in someway not a private matter, but a family affair. +It was her father's idea, she gathered, that she was to go into marriage +to strengthen what he called his position in the community, to help him +be some vague thing he called a big man. She wondered if he had some one +in mind and could not avoid being a little curious as to who it could be. +It had never occurred to her that her marriage could mean anything to her +father beyond the natural desire of the parent that his child make a happy +marriage. She began to grow angry at the thought of the way in which her +father had approached the subject, but was still curious to know whether +he had gone so far as to have some one in mind for the role of husband, +and thought she would try to find out from her aunt. The strange farm hand +came into the house with her bags and she followed him upstairs to what had +always been her own room. Her aunt came puffing at her heels. The farm hand +went away and she began to unpack, while the older woman, her face very +red, sat on the edge of the bed. "You ain't been getting engaged to a man +down there where you been to school, have you, Clara?" she asked. + +Clara looked at her aunt and blushed; then became suddenly and furiously +angry. Dropping the bag she had opened to the floor, she ran out of the +room. At the door she stopped and turned on the surprised and startled +woman. "No, I haven't," she declared furiously. "It's nobody's business +whether I have or not. I went to school for an education. I didn't go to +get me a man. If that's what you sent me for, why didn't you say so?" + +Clara hurried out of the house and into the barnyard. She went into all +of the barns, but there were no men about. Even the strange farm hand who +had carried her bags into the house had disappeared, and the stalls in +the horse and cattle barns were empty. Then she went into the orchard and +climbing a fence went through a meadow and into the wood to which she had +always fled, when as a girl on the farm she was troubled or angry. For +a long time she sat on a log beneath a tree and tried to think her way +through the new idea of marriage she had got from her father's words. She +was still angry and told herself that she would leave home, would go to +some city and get work. She thought of Kate Chanceller who intended to be +a doctor, and tried to picture herself attempting something of the kind. +It would take money for study. She tried to imagine herself talking to her +father about the matter and the thought made her smile. Again she wondered +if he had any definite person in mind as her husband, and who it could +be. She tried to check off her father's acquaintances among the young men +of Bidwell. "It must be some new man who has come here, some one having +something to do with one of the factories," she thought. + +After sitting on the log for a long time, Clara got up and walked under +the trees. The imaginary man, suggested to her mind by her father's words, +became every moment more and more a reality. Before her eyes danced the +laughing eyes of the young man who for a moment had lingered beside her +while Kate Chanceller talked to his companion that evening when they had +been challenged on the streets of Columbus. She remembered the young school +teacher, who had held her in his arms through a long Sunday afternoon, and +the day when, as an awakening maiden, she had heard Jim Priest talking to +the laborers in the barn about the sap that ran up the tree. The afternoon +slipped away and the shadows of the trees lengthened. On such a day and +alone there in the quiet wood, it was impossible for her to remain in the +angry mood in which she had left the house. Over her father's farm brooded +the passionate fulfillment of summer. Before her, seen through the trees, +lay yellow wheat fields, ripe for the cutting; insects sang and danced in +the air about her head; a soft wind blew and made a gentle singing noise +in the tops of the trees; at her back among the trees a squirrel chattered; +and two calves came along a woodland path and stood for a long time staring +at her with their large gentle eyes. She arose and went out of the wood, +crossed a falling meadow and came to a rail fence surrounding a corn field. +Jim Priest was cultivating corn and when he saw her left his horses and +came to her. He took both her hands in his and pumped her arms up and +down. "Well, Lord A'mighty, I'm glad to see you," he said heartily. "Lord +A'mighty, I'm glad to see you." The old farm hand pulled a long blade of +grass out of the ground beneath the fence and leaning against the top rail +began to chew it. He asked Clara the same question her aunt had asked, but +his asking did not annoy her. She laughed and shook her head. "No, Jim," +she said, "I seem to have made a failure of going away to school. I didn't +get me a man. No one asked me, you see." + +Both the woman and the old man became silent. Over the tops of the young +corn they could see down the hillside into the distant town. Clara wondered +if the man she was to marry was there. The idea of a marriage with her +had perhaps been suggested to his mind also. Her father, she decided, was +capable of that. He was evidently ready to go to any length to see her +safely married. She wondered why. When Jim Priest began to talk, striving +to explain his question, his words fitted oddly into the thoughts she was +having in regard to herself. "Now about marriage," he began, "you see now, +I never done it. I didn't get married at all. I don't know why. I wanted to +and I didn't. I was afraid to ask, maybe. I guess if you do it you're sorry +you did and if you don't you're sorry you didn't." + +Jim went back to his team, and Clara stood by the fence and watched him +go down the long field and turn to come back along another of the paths +between the corn rows. When the horses came to where she stood, he stopped +again and looked at her. "I guess you'll get married pretty soon now," +he said. The horses started on again and he held the cultivating machine +with one hand and looked back over his shoulder at her. "You're one of the +marrying kind," he called. "You ain't like me. You don't just think about +things. You do 'em. You'll be getting yourself married before very long. +You are one of the kind that does." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +If many things had happened to Clara Butterworth in the three years since +that day when John May so rudely tripped her first hesitating girlish +attempt to run out to life, things had also happened to the people she +had left behind in Bidwell. In so short a space of time her father, his +business associate Steve Hunter, Ben Peeler the town carpenter, Joe +Wainsworth the harness maker, almost every man and woman in town had become +something different in his nature from the man or woman bearing the same +name she had known in her girlhood. + +Ben Peeler was forty years old when Clara went to Columbus to school. He +was a tall, slender, stoop-shouldered man who worked hard and was much +respected by his fellow townsmen. Almost any afternoon he might have been +seen going through Main Street, wearing his carpenter's apron and with a +carpenter's pencil stuck under his cap and balanced on his ear. He went +into Oliver Hall's hardware store and came out with a large package of +nails under his arm. A farmer who was thinking of building a new barn +stopped him in front of the post-office and for a half hour the two men +talked of the project. Ben put on his glasses, took the pencil out of his +cap and made some notation on the back of the package of nails. "I'll do a +little figuring; then I'll talk things over with you," he said. During the +spring, summer and fall Ben had always employed another carpenter and an +apprentice, but when Clara came back to town he was employing four gangs +of six men each and had two foremen to watch the work and keep it moving, +while his son, who in other times would also have been a carpenter, had +become a salesman, wore fancy vests and lived in Chicago. Ben was making +money and for two years had not driven a nail or held a saw in his hand. He +had an office in a frame building beside the New York Central tracks, south +of Main Street, and employed a book-keeper and a stenographer. In addition +to carpentry he had embarked in another business. Backed by Gordon Hart, +he had become a lumber dealer and bought and sold lumber under the firm +name of Peeler and Hart. Almost every day cars of lumber were unloaded +and stacked under sheds in the yard back of his office. He was no longer +satisfied with his income as a workman but, under the influence of Gordon +Hart, demanded also a swinging profit on the building materials. Ben now +drove about town in a vehicle called a buckboard and spent the entire day +hurrying from job to job. He had no time now to stop for a half hour's +gossip with a prospective builder of a barn, and did not come to loaf in +Birdie Spinks' drug-store at the end of the day. In the evening he went to +the lumber office and Gordon Hart came over from the bank. The two men +figured on jobs to be built, rows of workingmen's houses, sheds alongside +one of the new factories, large frame houses for the superintendents and +other substantial men of the town's new enterprises. In the old days Ben +had been glad to go occasionally into the country on a barn-building job. +He had liked the country food, the gossip with the farmer and his men at +the noon hour and the drive back and forth to town, mornings and evenings. +While he was in the country he managed to make a deal for his winter +potatoes, hay for his horse, and perhaps a barrel of cider to drink on +winter evenings. Now he had no time to think of such things. When a farmer +came to see him he shook his head. "Get some one else to figure on your +job," he advised. "You'll save money by getting a barn-building carpenter. +I can't bother. I have too many houses to build." Ben and Gordon sometimes +worked in the lumber office until midnight. On warm still nights the sweet +smell of new-cut boards filled the air of the yard and crept in through the +open windows, but the two men, intent on their figures, did not notice. In +the early evening one or two teams came back to the yard to finish hauling +lumber to a job where the men were to work on the next day. The voices +of the men, talking and singing as they loaded their wagons, broke the +silence. Later the wagons loaded high with boards went creaking away. +When the two men grew tired and sleepy, they locked the office and walked +through the yard to the driveway that led to a residence street. Ben was +nervous and irritable. One evening they found three men, sleeping on a pile +of boards in the yard, and drove them out. It gave both men something to +think about. Gordon Hart went home and before he slept made up his mind +that he would not let another day go by without getting the lumber in the +yard more heavily insured. Ben had not handled affairs long enough to come +quickly to so sensible a decision. All night he rolled and tumbled about in +his bed. "Some tramp with his pipe will set the place afire," he thought. +"I'll lose all the money I've made." For a long time he did not think of +the simple expedient of hiring a watchman to drive sleepy and penniless +wanderers away, and charging enough more for his lumber to cover the +additional expense. He got out of bed and dressed, thinking he would get +his shotgun out of the barn and go back to the yard and spend the night. +Then he undressed and got into bed again. "I can't work all day and spend +my nights down there," he thought resentfully. When at last he slept, he +dreamed of sitting in the lumber yard in the darkness with the gun in +his hand. A man came toward him and he discharged the gun and killed the +man. With the inconsistency common to the physical aspect of dreams, the +darkness passed away and it was daylight. The man he had thought dead was +not quite dead. Although the whole side of his head was torn away, he still +breathed. His mouth opened and closed convulsively. A dreadful illness took +possession of the carpenter. He had an elder brother who had died when +he was a boy, but the face of the man on the ground was the face of his +brother. Ben sat up in bed and shouted. "Help, for God's sake, help! It's +my own brother. Don't you see, it is Harry Peeler?" he cried. His wife +awoke and shook him. "What's the matter, Ben," she asked anxiously. "What's +the matter?" "It was a dream," he said, and let his head drop wearily on +the pillow. His wife went to sleep again, but he stayed awake the rest of +the night. When on the next morning Gordon Hart suggested the insurance +idea, he was delighted. "That settles it of course," he said to himself. +"It's simple enough, you see. That settles everything." + +In his shop on Main Street Joe Wainsworth had plenty to do after the boom +came to Bidwell. Many teams were employed in the hauling of building +materials; loads of paving brick were being carted from cars to where they +were to be laid on Main Street; and teams hauled earth from where the new +Main Street sewer was being dug and from the freshly dug cellars of houses. +Never had there been so many teams employed and so much repairing of +harness to do. Joe's apprentice had left him, had been carried off by the +rush of young men to the places where the boom had arrived earlier. For a +year Joe had worked alone and had then employed a journeyman harness maker +who had drifted into town drunk and who got drunk every Saturday evening. +The new man was an odd character. He had a faculty for making money, but +seemed to care little about making it for himself. Within a week after he +came to town he knew every one in Bidwell. His name was Jim Gibson and he +had no sooner come to work for Joe than a contest arose between them. The +contest concerned the question of who was to run the shop. For a time +Joe asserted himself. He growled at the men who brought harness in to be +repaired, and refused to make promises as to when the work would be done. +Several jobs were taken away and sent to nearby towns. Then Jim Gibson +asserted himself. When one of the teamsters who had come to town with the +boom came with a heavy work harness on his shoulder, he went to meet him. +The harness was thrown with a rattling crash on the floor and Jim examined +it. "Oh, the devil, that's an easy job," he declared. "We'll fix that up in +a jiffy. You can have it to-morrow afternoon if you want it." + +For a time Jim made it a practice to come to where Joe stood at work at his +bench and consult with him regarding prices to be charged for work. Then he +returned to the customer and charged more than Joe had suggested. After a +few weeks he slopped consulting Joe at all. "You're no good," he exclaimed, +laughing. "What you're doing in business I don't know." The old harness +maker stared at him for a minute and then went to his bench and to work. +"Business," he muttered, "what do I know about business? I'm a harness +maker, I am." + +After Jim came to work for him, Joe made in one year almost twice the +amount he had lost in the failure of the plant-setting machine factory. The +money was not invested in stock of any factory but lay in the bank. Still +he was not happy. All day Jim Gibson, whom Joe had never dared tell the +tales of his triumph as a workman and to whom he did not brag as he had +formerly done to his apprentices, talked of his ability to get the best of +customers. He had, he declared, managed, in the last place he had worked +before he came to Bidwell, to sell a good many sets of harness as handmade +that were in reality made in a factory. "It isn't like the old times," he +said, "things are changing. We used to sell harness only to farmers or to +teamsters right in our towns who owned their own horses. We always knew the +men we did business with and always would know them. Now it's different. +The men now, you see, who are here in this town to work--well, next month +or next year they'll be somewhere else. All they care about you and me is +how much work they can get for a dollar. Of course they talk big about +honesty and all that stuff, but that's only their guff. They think maybe +we'll fall for it and they'll get more for the money they pay out. That's +what they're up to." + +Jim tried hard to make his version of how the shop should be run clear +to his employer. Every day he talked for hours regarding the matter. He +tried to get Joe to put in a stock of factory-made harness and when he was +unsuccessful was angry. "O the devil," he cried. "Can't you understand what +you're up against? The factories are bound to win. For why? Look here, +there can't any one but some old moss-back who has worked around horses all +his life tell the difference between hand- and machine-sewed harness. The +machine-made can be sold cheaper. It looks all right and the factories are +able to put on a lot of do-dads. That catches the young fellows. It's good +business. Quick sales and profits, that's the story." Jim laughed and then +said something that made the shivers run up and down Joe's back. "If I had +the money and was steady I'd start a shop in this town and show you up," he +said. "I'd pretty near run you out. The trouble with me is I wouldn't stick +to business if I had the money. I tried it once and made money; then when +I got a little ahead I shut up the shop and went on a big drunk. I was no +good for a month. When I work for some one else I'm all right. I get drunk +on Saturdays and that satisfies me. I like to work and scheme for money, +but it ain't any good to me when I get it and never will be. What I want +you to do here is to shut your eyes and give me a chance. That's all I ask. +Just shut your eyes and give me a chance." + +All day Joe sat astride his harness maker's horse, and when he was not +at work, stared out through a dirty window into an alleyway and tried to +understand Jim's idea of what a harness maker's attitude should be toward +his customers, now that new times had come. He felt very old. Although Jim +was as old in years lived as himself, he seemed very young. He began to be +a little afraid of the man. He could not understand why the money, nearly +twenty-five hundred dollars he had put in the bank during the two years Jim +had been with him, seemed so unimportant and the twelve hundred dollars he +had earned slowly after twenty years of work seemed so important. As there +was much repair work always waiting to be done in the shop, he did not go +home to lunch, but every day carried a few sandwiches to the shop in his +pocket. At the noon hour, when Jim had gone to his boarding-house, he was +alone, and if no one came in, he was happy. It seemed to him the best time +of the day. Every few minutes he went to the front door to look out. The +quiet Main Street, on which his shop had faced since he was a young man +just come home from his trade adventures, and which had always been such a +sleepy place at the noon hour in the summer, was now like a battle-field +from which an army had retreated. A great gash had been cut in the street +where the new sewer was to be laid. Swarms of workingmen, most of them +strangers, had come into Main Street from the factories by the railroad +tracks. They stood in groups in lower Main Street by Wymer's tobacco store. +Some of them had gone into Ben Head's saloon for a glass of beer and came +out wiping their mustaches. The men who were digging the sewer, foreign +men, Italians he had heard, sat on the banks of dry earth in the middle of +the street. Their dinner pails were held between their legs and as they ate +they talked in a strange language. He remembered the day he had come to +Bidwell with his bride, the girl he had met on his trade journey and who +had waited for him until he had mastered his trade and had a shop of his +own. He had gone to New York State to get her and had arrived back in +Bidwell at noon on just such another summer day. There had not been many +people about, but every one had known him. On that day every one had been +his friend. Birdie Spinks rushed out of his drug store and had insisted +that he and his bride go home to dinner with him. Every one had wanted them +to come to his house for dinner. It had been a happy, joyous time. + +The harness maker had always been sorry his wife had borne him no children. +He had said nothing and had always pretended he did not want them and now, +at last, he was glad they had not come. He went back to his bench and to +work, hoping Jim would be late in getting back from lunch. The shop was +very quiet after the activity of the street that had so bewildered him. It +was, he thought, like a retreat, almost like a church when you went to the +door and looked in on a week day. He had done that once and had liked the +empty silent church better than he did a church with a preacher and a lot +of people in it. He had told his wife about the matter. "It was like the +shop in the evening when I've got a job of work done and the boy has gone +home," he had said. + +The harness maker looked out through the open door of his shop and saw Tom +Butterworth and Steve Hunter going along Main Street, engaged in earnest +conversation. Steve had a cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth and Tom +had on a fancy vest. He thought again of the money he had lost in the +plant-setting machine venture and was furious. The noon hour was spoiled +and he was almost glad when Jim came back from his mid-day meal. + +The position in which he found himself in the shop amused Jim Gibson. He +chuckled to himself as he waited on the customers who came in, and as he +worked at the bench. One day when he came back along Main Street from +the noon meal, he decided to try an experiment. "If I lose my job what +difference does it make?" he asked himself. He stopped at a saloon and had +a drink of whisky. When he got to the shop he began to scold his employer, +to threaten him as though he were his apprentice. Swaggering suddenly in, +he walked to where Joe was at work and slapped him roughly on the back. +"Come, cheer up, old daddy," he said. "Get the gloom out of you. I'm tired +of your muttering and growling at things." + +The employee stepped back and watched his employer. Had Joe ordered him out +of the shop he would not have been surprised, and as he said later when he +told Ben Head's bartender of the incident, would not have cared very much. +The fact that he did not care, no doubt saved him. Joe was frightened. For +just a moment he was so angry he could not speak, and then he remembered +that if Jim left him he would have to wait on trade and would have to +dicker with the strange teamsters regarding the repairing of the work +harness. Bending over the bench he worked for an hour in silence. Then, +instead of demanding an explanation of the rude familiarity with which Jim +had treated him, he began to explain. "Now look here, Jim," he pleaded, +"don't you pay any attention to me. You do as you please here. Don't you +pay any attention to me." + +Jim said nothing, but a smile of triumph lit up his face. Late in the +afternoon he left the shop. "If any one comes in, tell them to wait. I +won't be gone very long," he said insolently. Jim went into Ben Head's +saloon and told the bartender how his experiment had come out. The story +was later told from store to store up and down the Main Street of Bidwell. +"He was like a boy who has been caught with his hand in the jam pot," Jim +explained. "I can't think what's the matter with him. Had I been in his, +shoes I would have kicked Jim Gibson out of the shop. He told me not to +pay any attention to him and to run the shop as I pleased. Now what do you +think of that? Now what do you think of that for a man who owns his own +shop and has money in the bank? I tell you, I don't know how it is, but I +don't work for Joe any more. He works for me. Some day you come in the shop +casual-like and I'll boss him around for you. I'm telling you I don't know +how it is that it come about, but I'm the boss of the shop as sure as the +devil." + +All of Bidwell was looking at itself and asking itself questions. Ed Hall, +who had been a carpenter's apprentice earning but a few dollars a week with +his master, Ben Peeler, was now foreman in the corn-cutter factory and +received a salary of twenty-five dollars every Saturday night. It was +more money than he had ever dreamed of earning in a week. On pay nights +he dressed himself in his Sunday clothes and had himself shaved at Joe +Trotter's barber shop. Then he went along Main Street, fingering the money +in his pocket and half fearing he would suddenly awaken and find it all a +dream. He went into Wymer's tobacco store to get a cigar, and old Claude +Wymer came to wait on him. On the second Saturday evening after he got his +new position, the tobacconist, a rather obsequious man, called him Mr. +Hall. It was the first time such a thing had happened and it upset him a +little. He laughed and made a joke of it. "Don't get high and mighty," he +said, and turned to wink at the men loafing in the shop. Later he thought +about the matter and was sorry he had not accepted the new title without +protest. "Well, I'm foreman, and a lot of the young fellows I've always +known and fooled around with will be working under me," he told himself. "I +can't be getting thick with them." + +Ed walked along the street feeling very keenly the importance of his new +place in the community. Other young fellows in the factory were getting a +dollar and a half a day. At the end of the week he got twenty-five dollars, +almost three times as much. The money was an indication of superiority. +There could be no doubt about that. Ever since he had been a boy he had +heard older men speak respectfully of men who possessed money. "Get on +in the world," they said to young men, when they talked seriously. Among +themselves they did not pretend that they did not want money. "It's money +makes the mare go," they said. + +Down Main Street to the New York Central tracks Ed went, and then turned +out of the street and disappeared into the station. The evening train had +passed and the place was deserted. He went into the dimly lighted +waiting-room. An oil lamp, turned low, and fastened by a bracket to the +wall made a little circle of light in a corner. The room was like a church +in the early morning of a wintry day, cold and still. He went hurriedly +to the light, and taking the roll of money from his pocket, counted it. +Then he went out of the room and along the station platform almost to Main +Street, but was not satisfied. On an impulse he returned to the waiting +room again and, late in the evening on his way home, he stopped there for a +final counting of the money before he went to bed. + +Peter Fry was a blacksmith and had a son who was clerk in the Bidwell +Hotel. He was a tall young fellow with curly yellow hair and watery blue +eyes and smoked cigarettes, a habit that was an offense to the nostrils of +the men of his times. His name was Jacob, but he was called in derision +Fizzy Fry. The young man's mother was dead and he got his meals at the +hotel and at night slept on a cot in the hotel office. He had a passion for +gayly colored neckties and waistcoats and was forever trying unsuccessfully +to attract the attention of the town girls. When he and his father met on +the street, they did not speak to each other. Sometimes the father stopped +and stared at his son. "How did I happen to be the father of a thing like +that?" he muttered aloud. + +The blacksmith was a square-shouldered, heavily built man with a bushy +black beard and a tremendous voice. When he was a young man he sang in the +Methodist choir, but after his wife died he stopped going to church and +began putting his voice to other uses. He smoked a short clay pipe that had +become black with age and that at night could not be seen against his black +curly beard. Smoke rolled out of his mouth in clouds and appeared to come +up out of his belly. He was like a volcanic mountain and was called, by the +men who loafed in Birdie Spinks' drug store, Smoky Pete. + +Smoky Pete was in more ways than one like a mountain given to eruptions. He +did not get drunk, but after his wife died he got into the habit of having +two or three drinks of whisky every evening. The whisky inflamed his mind +and he strode up and down Main Street, ready to quarrel with any one his +eye lighted upon. He got into the habit of roaring at his fellow citizens +and making ribald jokes at their expense. Every one was a little afraid +of him and he became in an odd way the guardian of the town morals. Sandy +Ferris, a house painter, became a drunkard and did not support his family. +Smoky Pete abused him in the public streets and in the sight of all men. +"You cheap thing, warming your belly with whisky while jour children +freeze, why don't you try being a man?" he shouted at the house painter, +who staggered into a side street and went to sleep off his intoxication in +a stall in Clyde Neighbors' livery barn. The blacksmith kept at the painter +until the whole town took up his cry and the saloons became ashamed to +accept his custom. He was forced to reform. + +The blacksmith did not, however, discriminate in the choice of victims. His +was not the spirit of the reformer. A merchant of Bidwell, who had always +been highly respected and who was an elder in his church, went one evening +to the county seat and there got into the company of a notorious woman +known throughout the county as Nell Hunter. The two went into a little room +at the back of a saloon and were seen by two Bidwell young men who had +gone to the county seat for an evening of adventure. When the merchant, +named Pen Beck, realized he had been seen, he was afraid the tale of his +indiscretion would be carried to his home town, and left the woman to join +the young men. He was not a drinking man, but began at once to buy drinks +for his companions. The three got very drunk and drove home together late +at night in a rig the young men had hired for the occasion from Clyde +Neighbors. On the way the merchant kept trying to explain his presence in +the company of the woman. "Don't say anything about it," he urged. "It +would be misunderstood. I have a friend whose son has been taken in by the +woman. I was trying to get her to let him alone." + +The two young men were delighted that they had caught the merchant off his +guard. "It's all right," they assured him. "Be a good fellow and we won't +tell your wife or the minister of your church." When they had all the +drinks they could carry, they got the merchant into the buggy and began to +whip the horse. They had driven half way to Bidwell and all of them had +fallen into a drunken sleep, when the horse became frightened at something +in the road and ran away. The buggy was overturned and they were all thrown +into the road. One of the young men had an arm broken and Pen Beck's coat +was almost torn in two. He paid the young man's doctor's bill and settled +with Clyde Neighbors for the damage to the buggy. + +For a long time the story of the merchant's adventure did not leak out, and +when it did, but a few intimate friends of the young men knew it. Then it +reached the ears of Smoky Pete. On the day he heard it he could hardly bear +to wait until evening came. He hurried to Ben Head's saloon, had two drinks +of whisky and then went to stand with the loafers before Birdie Spinks' +drug store. At half past seven Pen Beck turned into Main Street from Cherry +Street, where he lived. When he was more than three blocks away from the +crowd of men before the drug store, Smoky Pete's roaring voice began to +question him. "Well, Penny, my lad, so you went for a night among the +ladies?" he shouted. "You've been fooling around with my girl, Nell Hunter, +over at the county seat. I'd like to know what you mean. You'll have to +make an explanation to me." + +The merchant stopped and stood on the sidewalk, unable to decide whether to +face his tormentor or flee. It was just at the quiet time of the evening +when the housewives of the town had finished their evening's work and stood +resting by the kitchen doors. It seemed to Pen Beck that Smoky Pete's voice +could be heard for a mile. He decided to face it out and if necessary to +fight the blacksmith. As he came hurriedly toward the group before the +drug store, Smoky Pete's voice took up the story of the merchant's wild +night. He stepped out from the men in front of the store and seemed to be +addressing himself to the whole street. Clerks, merchants, and customers +rushed out of the stores. "Well," he cried, "so you made a night of it with +my girl Nell Hunter. When you sat with her in the back room of the saloon +you didn't know I was there. I was hidden under a table. If you'd done +anything more than bite her on the neck I'd have come out and called you to +time." + +Smoky Pete broke into a roaring laugh and waved his arms to the people +gathered in the street and wondering what it was all about. It was for him +one of the really delicious spots of his life. He tried to explain to the +people what he was talking about. "He was with Nell Hunter in the back room +of a saloon over at the county seat," he shouted. "Edgar Duncan and Dave +Oldham saw him there. He came home with them and the horse ran away. He +didn't commit adultery. I don't want you to think that happened. All that +happened was he bit my best girl, Nell Hunter, on the neck. That's what +makes me so mad. I don't like to have her bitten by him. She is my girl and +belongs to me." + +The blacksmith, forerunner of the modern city newspaper reporter in his +love of taking the center of the stage in order to drag into public sight +the misfortunes of his fellows, did not finish his tirade. The merchant, +white with anger, rushed up and struck him a blow on the chest with his +small and rather fat fist. The blacksmith knocked him into the gutter and +later, when he was arrested, went proudly off to the office of the town +mayor and paid his fine. + +It was said by the enemies of Smoky Pete that he had not taken a bath for +years. He lived alone in a small frame house at the edge of town. Behind +his house was a large field. The house itself was unspeakably dirty. When +the factories came to town, Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter bought the +field intending to cut it into building lots. They wanted to buy the +blacksmith's house and finally did secure it by paying a high price. He +agreed to move out within a year but after the money was paid repented and +wished he had not sold. A rumor began to run about town connecting the name +of Tom Butterworth with that of Fanny Twist, the town milliner. It was +said the rich farmer had been seen coming out of her shop late at night. +The blacksmith also heard another story whispered in the streets. Louise +Trucker, the farmer's daughter who had at one time been seen creeping +through a side street in the company of young Steve Hunter, had gone to +Cleveland and it was said she had become the proprietor of a prosperous +house of ill fame. Steve's money, it was declared, had been used to set her +up in business. The two stories offered unlimited opportunity for expansion +in the blacksmith's mind, but while he was preparing himself to do what +he called bringing the two men down in the sight and hearing of the whole +town, a thing happened that upset his plans. His son Fizzy Fry left his +place as clerk in the hotel and went to work in the corn-cutting machine +factory. One day his father saw him coming from the factory at noon with a +dozen other workmen. The young man had on overalls and smoked a pipe. When +he saw his father he stopped, and when the other men had gone on, explained +his sudden transformation. "I'm in the shop now, but I won't be there +long," he said proudly. "You know Tom Butterworth stays at the hotel? Well, +he's given me a chance. I got to stay in the shop for a while to learn +about things. After that I'm to have a chance as shipping clerk. Then I'll +be a traveler on the road." He looked at his father and his voice broke. +"You haven't thought very much of me, but I'm not so bad," he said. "I +don't want to be a sissy, but I'm not very strong. I worked at the hotel +because there wasn't anything else I thought I could do." + +Peter Fry went home to his house but could not eat the food he had cooked +for himself on the tiny stove in the kitchen. He went outdoors and stood +for a long time, looking out across the cow-pasture Tom Butterworth and +Steve Hunter had bought and that they proposed should become a part of the +rapidly growing city. He had himself taken no part in the new impulses that +had come upon the town, except that he had taken advantage of the failure +of the town's first industrial effort to roar insults at those of his +townsmen who had lost their money. One evening he and Ed Hall had got +into a fight about the matter on Main Street, and the blacksmith had been +compelled to pay another fine. Now he wondered what was the matter with +him. He had evidently made a mistake about his son. Had he made a mistake +about Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter? + +The perplexed man went back to his shop and all the afternoon worked in +silence. His heart had been set on the creation of a dramatic scene on Main +Street, when he openly attacked the two most prominent men of the town, +and he even pictured himself as likely to be put in the town jail where +he would have an opportunity to roar things through the iron bars at the +citizens gathered in the street. In anticipation of such an event, he had +prepared himself to attack the reputation of other people. He had never +attacked women but, if he were locked up, he intended to do so. John May +had once told him that Tom Butterworth's daughter, who had been away to +college for a year, had been sent away because she was in the family way. +John May had claimed he was responsible for her condition. Several of Tom's +farm hands he said had been on intimate terms with the girl. The blacksmith +had told himself that if he got into trouble for publicly attacking the +father he would be justified in telling what he knew about the daughter. + +The blacksmith did not come into Main Street that evening. As he went home +from work he saw Tom Butterworth standing with Steve Hunter before the +post-office. For several weeks Tom had been spending most of his time away +from town, had only appeared in town for a few hours at a time, and had not +been seen on the streets in the evening. The blacksmith had been waiting +to catch both men on the street at one time. Now that this opportunity had +come, he began to be afraid he would not dare take it. "What right have I +to spoil my boy's chances?" he asked himself, as he went rather heavily +along the street toward his own house. + +It rained on that evening and for the first time in years Smoky Pete did +not go into Main Street. He told himself that the rain kept him at home, +but the thought did not satisfy him. All evening he moved restlessly about +the house and at half past eight went to bed. He did not, however, sleep, +but lay with his trousers on and with his pipe in his mouth, trying to +think. Every few minutes he took the pipe from his mouth, blew out a cloud +of smoke and swore viciously. At ten o'clock the farmer, who had owned the +cow-pasture back of his house and who still kept his cows there, saw his +neighbor tramping about in the rain in the field and saying things he had +planned to say on Main Street in the hearing of the entire town. + +The farmer also had gone to bed early, but at ten o'clock he decided that, +as the rain continued to fall and as it was growing somewhat cold, he had +better get up and let his cows into the barn. He did not dress, but threw a +blanket about his shoulders and went out without a light. He let down the +bars separating the field from the barnyard and then saw and heard Smoky +Pete in the field. The blacksmith walked back and forth in the darkness, +and as the farmer stood by the fence, began to talk in a loud voice. "Well, +Tom Butterworth, you're fooling around with Fanny Twist," he cried into the +silence and emptiness of the night. "You're sneaking into her shop late at +night, eh? Steve Hunter has set Louise Trucker up in business in a house in +Cleveland. Are you and Fanny Twist going to open a house here? Is that the +next industrial enterprise we're to have here in this town?" + +The amazed farmer stood in the rain in the darkness, listening to the words +of his neighbor. The cows came through the gate and went into the barn. His +bare legs were cold and he drew them alternately up under the blanket. For +ten minutes Peter Fry tramped up and down in the field. Once he came quite +near the farmer, who drew himself down beside the fence and listened, +filled with amazement and fright. He could dimly see the tall, old man +striding along and waving his arms about. When he had said many bitter, +hateful things regarding the two most prominent men of Bidwell, he began +to abuse Tom Butterworth's daughter, calling her a bitch and the daughter +of a dog. The farmer waited until Smoky Pete had gone back to his house +and, when he saw a light in the kitchen, and fancied he could also see his +neighbor cooking food at a stove, he went again into his own house. He had +himself never quarreled with Smoky Pete and was glad. He was glad also that +the field at the back of his house had been sold. He intended to sell the +rest of his farm and move west to Illinois. "The man's crazy," he told +himself. "Who but a crazy man would talk that way in the darkness? I +suppose I ought to report him and get him locked up, but I guess I'll +forget what I heard. A man who would talk like that about nice respectable +people would do anything. He might set fire to my house some night or +something like that. I guess I'll just forget what I heard." + + + + +BOOK FOUR + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +After the success of his corn cutting machine and the apparatus for +unloading coal cars that brought him a hundred thousand dollars in cash, +Hugh could not remain the isolated figure he had been all through the first +several years of his life in the Ohio community. From all sides men reached +out their hands to him: and more than one woman thought she would like to +be his wife. All men lead their lives behind a wall of misunderstanding +they themselves have built, and most men die in silence and unnoticed +behind the walls. Now and then a man, cut off from his fellows by the +peculiarities of his nature, becomes absorbed in doing something that is +impersonal, useful, and beautiful. Word of his activities is carried over +the walls. His name is shouted and is carried by the wind into the tiny +inclosure in which other men live and in which they are for the most part +absorbed in doing some petty task for the furtherance of their own comfort. +Men and women stop their complaining about the unfairness and inequality of +life and wonder about the man whose name they have heard. + +From Bidwell, Ohio, to farms all over the Middle West, Hugh McVey's name +had been carried. His machine for cutting corn was called the McVey +Corn-Cutter. The name was printed in white letters against a background of +red on the side of the machine. Farmer boys in the States of Indiana, +Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Nebraska, and all the great corn-growing States saw +it and in idle moments wondered what kind of man had invented the machine +they operated. A Cleveland newspaper man came to Bidwell and went to +Pickleville to see Hugh. He wrote a story telling of Hugh's early poverty +and his efforts to become an inventor. When the reporter talked to Hugh +he found the inventor so embarrassed and uncommunicative that he gave up +trying to get a story. Then he went to Steve Hunter who talked to him for +an hour. The story made Hugh a strikingly romantic figure. His people, the +story said, came out of the mountains of Tennessee, but they were not poor +whites. It was suggested that they were of the best English stock. There +was a tale of Hugh's having in his boyhood contrived some kind of an engine +that carried water from a valley to a mountain community; another of his +having seen a clock in a store in a Missouri town and of his having later +made a clock of wood for his parents; and a tale of his having gone into +the forest with his father's gun, shot a wild hog and carried it down the +mountain side on his shoulder in order to get money to buy school books. +After the tale was printed the advertising manager of the corn-cutter +factory got Hugh to go with him one day to Tom Butterworth's farm. Many +bushels of corn were brought out of the corn cribs and a great mountain of +corn was built on the ground at the edge of a field. Back of the mountain +of corn was a corn field just coming into tassel. Hugh was told to climb +up on the mountain and sit there. Then his picture was taken. It was sent +to newspapers all over the West with copies of the biography cut from the +Cleveland paper. Later both the picture and the biography were used in the +catalogue that described the McVey Corn-Cutter. + +The cutting of corn and putting it in shocks against the time of the +husking is heavy work. In recent times it has come about that much of the +corn grown on mid-American prairie lands is not cut. The corn is left +standing in the fields, and men go through it in the late fall to pick the +yellow ears. The workers throw the corn over their shoulders into a wagon +driven by a boy, who follows them in their slow progress, and it is then +hauled away to the cribs. When a field has been picked, the cattle are +turned in and all winter they nibble at the dry corn blades and tramp the +stalks into the ground. All day long on the wide western prairies when the +gray fall days have come, you may see the men and the horses working their +way slowly through the fields. Like tiny insects they crawl across the +immense landscapes. After them in the late fall and in the winter when the +prairies are covered with snow, come the cattle. They are brought from the +far West in cattle cars and after they have nibbled the corn blades all +day, are taken to barns and stuffed to bursting with corn. When they are +fat they are sent to the great killing-pens in Chicago, the giant city of +the prairies. In the still fall nights, as you stand on prairie roads or in +the barnyard back of one of the farm houses, you may hear the rustling of +the dry corn blades and then the crash of the heavy bodies of the beasts +going forward as they nibble and trample the corn. + +In earlier days the method of corn harvesting was different. There was +poetry in the operation then as there is now, but it was set to another +rhythm. When the corn was ripe men went into the fields with heavy corn +knives and cut the stalks of corn close to the ground. The stalks were cut +with the right hand swinging the corn knife and carried on the left arm. +All day a man carried a heavy load of the stalks from which yellow ears +hung down. When the load became unbearably heavy it was carried to the +shock, and when all the corn was cut in a certain area, the shock was made +secure by binding it with tarred rope or with a tough stalk twisted to take +the place of the rope. When the cutting was done the long rows of stalks +stood up in the fields like sentinels, and the men crawled off to the +farmhouses and to bed, utterly weary. + +Hugh's machine took all of the heavier part of the work away. It cut the +corn near the ground and bound it into bundles that fell upon a platform. +Two men followed the machine, one to drive the horses and the other to +place the bundles of stalks against the shocks and to bind the completed +shocks. The men went along smoking their pipes and talking. The horses +stopped and the driver stared out over the prairies. His arms did not ache +with weariness and he had time to think. The wonder and mystery of the wide +open places got a little into his blood. At night when the work was done +and the cattle fed and made comfortable in the barns, he did not go at once +to bed but sometimes went out of his house and stood for a moment under the +stars. + +This thing the brain of the son of a mountain man, the poor white of the +river town, had done for the people of the plains. The dreams he had tried +so hard to put away from him and that the New England woman Sarah Shepard +had told him would lead to his destruction had come to something. The +car-dumping apparatus, that had sold for two hundred thousand dollars, had +given Steve Hunter money to buy the plant-setting machine factory, and with +Tom Butterworth to start manufacturing the corn-cutters, had affected the +lives of fewer people, but it had carried the Missourian's name into other +places and had also made a new kind of poetry in railroad yards and along +rivers at the back of cities where ships are loaded. On city nights as you +lie in your houses you may hear suddenly a long reverberating roar. It is a +giant that has cleared his throat of a carload of coal. Hugh McVey helped +to free the giant. He is still doing it. In Bidwell, Ohio, he is still at +it, making new inventions, cutting the bands that have bound the giant. He +is one man who had not been swept aside from his purpose by the complexity +of life. + +That, however, came near happening. After the coming of his success, a +thousand little voices began calling to him. The soft hands of women +reached out of the masses of people about him, out of the old dwellers and +new dwellers in the city that was growing up about the factories where +his machines were being made in ever increasing numbers. New houses were +constantly being built along Turner's Pike that led down to his workshop at +Pickleville. Beside Allie Mulberry a dozen mechanics were now employed in +his experimental shop. They helped Hugh with a new invention, a hay-loading +apparatus on which he was at work, and also made special tools for use in +the corn-cutter factory and the new bicycle factory. A dozen new houses +had been built in Pickleville itself. The wives of the mechanics lived in +the houses and occasionally one of them came to see her husband at Hugh's +shop. He found it less and less difficult to talk to people. The workmen, +themselves not given to the use of many words, did not think his habitual +silence peculiar. They were more skilled than Hugh in the use of tools and +thought it rather an accident that he had done what they had not done. As +he had grown rich by that road they also tried their hand at inventions. +One of them made a patent door hinge that Steve sold for ten thousand +dollars, keeping half the money for his services, as he had done in the +case of Hugh's car-dumping apparatus. At the noon hour the men hurried to +their houses to eat and then came back to loaf before the factory and +smoke their noonday pipes. They talked of money-making, of the price of +food stuffs, of the advisability of a man's buying a house on the partial +payment plan. Sometimes they talked of women and of their adventures with +women. Hugh sat by himself inside the door of the shop and listened. At +night after he had gone to bed he thought of what they had said. He lived +in a house belonging to a Mrs. McCoy, the widow of a railroad section hand +killed in a railroad accident, who had a daughter. The daughter, Rose +McCoy, taught a country school and most of the year was away from home from +Monday morning until late on Friday afternoon. Hugh lay in bed thinking of +what his workmen had said of women and heard the old housekeeper moving +about down stairs. Sometimes he got out of bed to sit by an open window. +Because she was the woman whose life touched his most closely, he thought +often of the school teacher. The McCoy house, a small frame affair with a +picket fence separating it from Turner's Pike, stood with its back door +facing the Wheeling Railroad. The section hands on the railroad remembered +their former fellow workman, Mike McCoy, and wanted to be good to his +widow. They sometimes dumped half decayed railroad ties over the fence into +a potato patch back of the house. At night, when heavily loaded coal trains +rumbled past, the brakemen heaved large chunks of coal over the fence. The +widow awoke whenever a train passed. When one of the brakemen threw a chunk +of coal he shouted and his voice could be heard above the rumble of the +coal cars. "That's for Mike," he cried. Sometimes one of the chunks knocked +a picket out of the fence and the next day Hugh put it back again. When the +train had passed the widow got out of bed and brought the coal into the +house. "I don't want to give the boys away by leaving it lying around +in the daylight," she explained to Hugh. On Sunday mornings Hugh took a +crosscut saw and cut the railroad ties into lengths that would go into the +kitchen stove. Slowly his place in the McCoy household had become fixed, +and when he received the hundred thousand dollars and everybody, even the +mother and daughter, expected him to move, he did not do so. He tried +unsuccessfully to get the widow to take more money for his board and when +that effort failed, life in the McCoy household went as it had when he was +a telegraph operator receiving forty dollars a month. + +In the spring or fall, as he sat by his window at night, and when the moon +came up and the dust in Turner's Pike was silvery white, Hugh thought of +Rose McCoy, sleeping in some farmer's house. It did not occur to him that +she might also be awake and thinking. He imagined her lying very still in +bed. The section hand's daughter was a slender woman of thirty with tired +blue eyes and red hair. Her skin had been heavily freckled in her youth and +her nose was still freckled. Although Hugh did not know it, she had once +been in love with George Pike, the Wheeling station agent, and a day had +been set for the marriage. Then a difficulty arose in regard to religious +beliefs and George Pike married another woman. It was then she became a +school teacher. She was a woman of few words and she and Hugh had never +been alone together, but as Hugh sat by the window on fall evenings, she +lay awake in a room in the farmer's house, where she was boarding during +the school season, and thought of him. She thought that had Hugh remained a +telegraph operator at forty dollars a month something might have happened +between them. Then she had other thoughts, or rather, sensations that had +little to do with thoughts. The room in which she lay was very still and +a streak of moonlight came in through the window. In the barn back of the +farmhouse she could hear the cattle stirring about. A pig grunted and in +the stillness that followed she could hear the farmer, who lay in the +next room with his wife, snoring gently. Rose was not very strong and the +physical did not rule in her nature, but she was very lonely and thought +that, like the farmer's wife, she would like to have a man to lie with her. +Warmth crept over her body and her lips became dry so that she moistened +them with her tongue. Had you been able to creep unobserved into the room, +you might have thought her much like a kitten lying by a stove. She closed +her eyes and gave herself over to dreams. In her conscious mind she dreamed +of being the wife of the bachelor Hugh McVey, but deep within her there was +another dream, a dream having its basis in the memory of her one physical +contact with a man. When they were engaged to be married George had often +kissed her. On one evening in the spring they had gone to sit together on +the grassy bank beside the creek in the shadow of the pickle factory, then +deserted and silent, and had come near to going beyond kissing. Why nothing +else had happened Rose did not exactly know. She had protested, but her +protest had been feeble and had not expressed what she felt. George Pike +had desisted in his effort to press love upon her because they were to be +married, and he did not think it right to do what he thought of as taking +advantage of a girl. + +At any rate he did desist and long afterward, as she lay in the farmhouse +consciously thinking of her mother's bachelor boarder, her thoughts became +less and less distinct and when she had slipped off into sleep, George Pike +came back to her. She stirred uneasily in bed and muttered words. Rough but +gentle hands touched her cheeks and played in her hair. As the night wore +on and the position of the moon shifted, the streak of moonlight lighted +her face. One of her hands reached up and seemed to be caressing the +moonbeams. The weariness had all gone out of her face. "Yes, George, I love +you, I belong to you," she whispered. + +Had Hugh been able to creep like the moonbeam into the presence of the +sleeping school teacher, he must inevitably have loved her. Also he would +perhaps have understood that it is best to approach human beings directly +and boldly as he had approached the mechanical problems by which his days +were filled. Instead he sat by his window in the presence of the moonlit +night and thought of women as beings utterly unlike himself. Words dropped +by Sarah Shepard to the awakening boy came creeping back to his mind. He +thought women were for other men but not for him, and told himself he did +not want a woman. + +And then in Turner's Pike something happened. A farmer boy, who had been +to town and who had the daughter of a neighbor in his buggy, stopped in +front of the house. A long freight train, grinding its way slowly past the +station, barred the passage along the road. He held the reins in one hand +and put the other about the waist of his companion. The two heads sought +each other and lips met. They clung to each other. The same moon that shed +its light on Rose McCoy in the distant farmhouse lighted the open place +where the lovers sat in the buggy in the road. Hugh had to close his eyes +and fight to put down an almost overpowering physical hunger in himself. +His mind still protested that women were not for him. When his fancy made +for him a picture of the school teacher Rose McCoy sleeping in a bed, he +saw her only as a chaste white thing to be worshiped from afar and not to +be approached, at least not by himself. Again he opened his eyes and looked +at the lovers whose lips still clung together. His long slouching body +stiffened and he sat up very straight in his chair. Then he closed his eyes +again. A gruff voice broke the silence. "That's for Mike," it shouted and a +great chunk of coal thrown from the train bounded across the potato patch +and struck against the back of the house. Downstairs he could hear old Mrs. +McCoy getting out of bed to secure the prize. The train passed and the +lovers in the buggy sank away from each other. In the silent night Hugh +could hear the regular beat of the hoofs of the farmer boy's horse as it +carried him and his woman away into the darkness. + +The two people, living in the house with the old woman who had almost +finished her life, and themselves trying feebly to reach out to life, never +got to anything very definite in relation to each other. One Saturday +evening in the late fall the Governor of the State came to Bidwell. There +was a parade to be followed by a political meeting and the Governor, who +was a candidate for re-election, was to address the people from the steps +of the town hall. Prominent citizens were to stand on the steps beside the +Governor. Steve and Tom were to be there, and they had asked Hugh to come, +but he had refused. He asked Rose McCoy to go to the meeting with him, and +they set out from the house at eight o'clock and walked to town. Then they +stood at the edge of the crowd in the shadow of a store building and +listened to the speech. To Hugh's amazement his name was mentioned. The +Governor spoke of the prosperity of the town, indirectly hinting that +it was due to the political sagacity of the party of which he was a +representative, and then mentioned several individuals also partly +responsible. "The whole country is sweeping forward to new triumphs under +our banner," he declared, "but not every community is so fortunate as I +find you here. Labor is employed at good wages. Life here is fruitful and +happy. You are fortunate here in having among you such business men as +Steven Hunter and Thomas Butterworth; and in the inventor Hugh McVey you +have one of the greatest intellects and the most useful men that ever lived +to help lift the burden off the shoulder of labor. What his brain is doing +for labor, our party is doing in another way. The protective tariff is +really the father of modern prosperity." + +The speaker paused and a cheer arose from the crowd. Hugh took hold of the +school teacher's arm and drew her away down a side street. They walked home +in silence, but when they got to the house and were about to go in, the +school teacher hesitated. She wanted to ask Hugh to walk about in the +darkness with her but did not have the courage of her desires. As they +stood at the gate and as the tall man with the long serious face looked +down at her, she remembered the speaker's words. "How could he care for me? +How could a man like him care anything for a homely little school teacher +like me?" she asked herself. Aloud she said something quite different. As +they had come along Turner's Pike she had made up her mind she would boldly +suggest a walk under the trees along Turner's Pike beyond the bridge, and +had told herself that she would later lead him to the place beside the +stream and in the shadow of the old pickle factory where she and George +Pike had come so near being lovers. Instead she hesitated for a moment by +the gate and then laughed awkwardly and passed in. "You should be proud. I +would be proud if I could be spoken of like that. I don't see why you keep +living here in a cheap little house like ours," she said. + +On a warm spring Sunday night during the year in which Clara Butterworth +came back to Bidwell to live, Hugh made what was for him an almost +desperate effort to approach the school teacher. It had been a rainy +afternoon and Hugh had spent a part of it in the house. He came over from +his shop at noon and went to his room. When she was at home the school +teacher occupied a room next his own. The mother who seldom left the house +had on that day gone to the country to visit a brother. The daughter got +dinner for herself and Hugh and he tried to help her wash the dishes. A +plate fell out of his hands and its breaking seemed to break the silent, +embarrassed mood that had possession of them. For a few minutes they were +children and acted like children. Hugh picked up another plate and the +school teacher told him to put it down. He refused. "You're as awkward as a +puppy. How you ever manage to do anything over at that shop of yours is +more than I know." + +Hugh tried to keep hold of the plate which the school teacher tried to +snatch away and for a few minutes they struggled laughing. Her cheeks were +flushed and Hugh thought she looked bewitching. An impulse he had never had +before came to him. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs, throw the +plate at the ceiling, sweep all of the dishes off the table and hear them +crash on the floor, play like some huge animal loose in a tiny world. He +looked at Rose and his hands trembled from the strength of the strange +impulse. As he stood staring she took the plate out of his hand and went +into the kitchen. Not knowing what else to do he put on his hat and went +for a walk. Later he went to the shop and tried to work, but his hand +trembled when he tried to hold a tool and the hay-loading apparatus on +which he was at work seemed suddenly a very trivial and unimportant thing. + +At four o'clock Hugh got back to the house and found it apparently empty, +although the door leading to Turner's Pike was open. The rain had stopped +falling and the sun struggled to work its way through the clouds. He went +upstairs to his own room and sat on the edge of his bed. The conviction +that the daughter of the house was in her room next door came to him, and +although the thought violated all the beliefs he had ever held regarding +women in relation to himself, he decided that she had gone to her room to +be near him when he came in. For some reason he knew that if he went to +her door and knocked she would not be surprised and would not refuse him +admission. He took off his shoes and set them gently on the floor. Then he +went on tiptoes out into the little hallway. The ceiling was so low that +he had to stoop to avoid knocking his head against it. He raised his hand +intending to knock on the door, and then lost courage. Several times +he went into the hallway with the same intent, and each time returned +noiselessly to his own room. He sat in the chair by the window and waited. +An hour passed. He heard a noise that indicated that the school teacher had +been lying on her bed. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs, and presently +saw her go out of the house and go along Turner's Pike. She did not go +toward town but over the bridge past his shop and into the country. Hugh +drew himself back out of sight. He wondered where she could be going. +"The roads are muddy. Why does she go out? Is she afraid of me?" he asked +himself. When he saw her turn at the bridge and look back toward the house, +his hands trembled again. "She wants me to follow. She wants me to go with +her," he thought. + +Hugh did presently go out of the house and along the road but did not meet +the school teacher. She had in fact crossed the bridge and had gone along +the bank of the creek on the farther side. Then she crossed over again on +a fallen log and went to stand by the wall of the pickle factory. A lilac +bush grew beside the wall and she stood out of sight behind it. When she +saw Hugh in the road her heart beat so heavily that she had difficulty in +breathing. He went along the road and presently passed out of sight, and a +great weakness took possession of her. Although the grass was wet she sat +on the ground against the wall of the building and closed her eyes. Later +she put her face in her hands and wept. + +The perplexed inventor did not get back to his boarding house until late +that night, and when he did he was unspeakably glad that he had not knocked +on the door of Rose McCoy's room. He had decided during the walk that +the whole notion that she had wanted him had been born in his own brain. +"She's a nice woman," he had said to himself over and over during the +walk, and thought that in coming to that conclusion he had swept away all +possibilities of anything else in her. He was tired when he got home and +went at once to bed. The old woman came home from the country and her +brother sat in his buggy and shouted to the school teacher, who came out of +her room and ran down the stairs. He heard the two women carry something +heavy into the house and drop it on the floor. The farmer brother had given +Mrs. McCoy a bag of potatoes. Hugh thought of the mother and daughter +standing together downstairs and was unspeakably glad he had not given way +to his impulse toward boldness. "She would be telling her now. She is a +good woman and would be telling her now," he thought. + +At two o'clock that night Hugh got out of bed. In spite of the conviction +that women were not for him, he had found himself unable to sleep. +Something that shone in the eyes of the school teacher, when she struggled +with him for the possession of the plate, kept calling to him and he got +up and went to the window. The clouds had all gone out of the sky and the +night was clear. At the window next his own sat Rose McCoy. She was dressed +in a night gown and was looking away along Turner's Pike to the place where +George Pike the station master lived with his wife. Without giving himself +time to think, Hugh knelt on the floor and with his long arm reached across +the space between the two windows. His fingers had almost touched the back +of the woman's head and ached to play in the mass of red hair that fell +down over her shoulders, when again self-consciousness overcame him. He +drew his arm quickly back and stood upright in the room. His head banged +against the ceiling and he heard the window of the room next door go softly +down. With a conscious effort he took himself in hand. "She's a good woman. +Remember, she's a good woman," he whispered to himself, and when he got +again into his bed he refused to let his mind linger on the thoughts of +the school teacher, but compelled them to turn to the unsolved problems he +still had to face before he could complete his hay-loading apparatus. "You +tend to your business and don't be going off on that road any more," he +said, as though speaking to another person. "Remember she's a good woman +and you haven't the right. That's all you have to do. Remember you haven't +the right," he added with a ring of command in his voice. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Hugh first saw Clara Butterworth one day in July when she had been at home +for a month. She came to his shop late one afternoon with her father and a +man who had been employed to manage the new bicycle factory. The three got +out of Tom's buggy and came into the shop to see Hugh's new invention, the +hay-loading apparatus. Tom and the man named Alfred Buckley went to the +rear of the shop, and Hugh was left alone with the woman. She was dressed +in a light summer gown and her cheeks were flushed. Hugh stood by a bench +near an open window and listened while she talked of how much the town had +changed in the three years she had been away. "It is your doing, every one +says that," she declared. + +Clara had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to Hugh. She began asking +questions regarding his work and what was to come of it. "When everything +is done by machines, what are people to do?" she asked. She seemed to take +it for granted that the inventor had thought deeply on the subject of +industrial development, a subject on which Kate Chanceller had often talked +during a whole evening. Having heard Hugh spoken of as one who had a great +brain, she wanted to see the brain at work. + +Alfred Buckley came often to her father's house and wanted to marry Clara. +In the evening the two men sat on the front porch of the farmhouse and +talked of the town and the big things that were to be done there. They +spoke of Hugh, and Buckley, an energetic, talkative fellow with a long jaw +and restless gray eyes who had come from New York City, suggested schemes +for using him. Clara gathered that there was a plan on foot to get control +of Hugh's future inventions and thereby gain an advantage over Steve +Hunter. + +The whole matter puzzled Clara. Alfred Buckley had asked her to marry him +and she had put the matter off. The proposal had been a formal thing, not +at all what she had expected from a man she was to take as a partner for +life, but Clara was at the moment very seriously determined upon marriage. +The New York man was at her father's house several evenings every week. +She had never walked about with him nor had they in any way come close to +each other. He seemed too much occupied with work to be personal and had +proposed marriage by writing her a letter. Clara got the letter from the +post-office and it upset her so that she felt she could not for a time go +into the presence of any one she knew. "I am unworthy of you, but I want +you to be my wife. I will work for you. I am new here and you do not know +me very well. All I ask is the privilege of proving my merit. I want you to +be my wife, but before I dare come and ask you to do me so great an honor I +feel I must prove myself worthy," the letter said. + +Clara had driven into town alone on the day when she received it and later +got into her buggy and drove south past the Butterworth farm into the +hills. She forgot to go home to lunch or to the evening meal. The horse +jogged slowly along, protesting and trying to turn back at every cross +road, but she kept on and did not get home until midnight. When she reached +the farmhouse her father was waiting. He went with her into the barnyard +and helped unhitch the horse. Nothing was said, and after a moment's +conversation having nothing to do with the subject that occupied both their +minds, she went upstairs and tried to think the matter out. She became +convinced that her father had something to do with the proposal of marriage +that he knew about it and had waited for her to come home in order to see +how it had affected her. + +Clara wrote a reply that was as non-committal as the proposal itself. "I +do not know whether I want to marry you or not. I will have to become +acquainted with you. I however thank you for the offer of marriage and when +you feel that the right time has come, we will talk about it," she wrote. + +After the exchange of letters, Alfred Buckley came to her father's house +more often than before, but he and Clara did not become better acquainted. +He did not talk to her, but to her father. Although she did not know it, +the rumor that she was to marry the New York man had already run about +town. She did not know whether her father or Buckley had told the tale. + +On the front porch of the farmhouse through the summer evenings the two men +talked of the progress, of the town and the part they were taking and hoped +to take in its future growth. The New York man had proposed a scheme to +Tom. He was to go to Hugh and propose a contract giving the two men an +option on all his future inventions. As the inventions were completed +they were to be financed in New York City, and the two men would give up +manufacture and make money much more rapidly as promoters. They hesitated +because they were afraid of Steve Hunter, and because Tom was afraid Hugh +would not fall in with their plan. "It wouldn't surprise me if Steve +already had such a contract with him. He's a fool if he hasn't," the older +man said. + +Evening after evening the two men talked and Clara sat in the deep shadows +at the back of the porch and listened. The enmity that had existed between +herself and her father seemed to be forgotten. The man who had asked her to +marry him did not look at her, but her father did. Buckley did most of the +talking and spoke of New York City business men, already famous throughout +the Middle West as giants of finance, as though they were his life-long +friends. "They'll put over anything I ask them to," he declared. + +Clara tried to think of Alfred Buckley as a husband. Like Hugh McVey he +was tall and gaunt but unlike the inventor, whom she had seen two or three +times on the street, he was not carelessly dressed. There was something +sleek about him, something that suggested a well-bred dog, a hound perhaps. +As he talked he leaned forward like a greyhound in pursuit of a rabbit. His +hair was carefully parted and his clothes fitted him like the skin of an +animal. He wore a diamond scarf pin. His long jaw, it seemed to her, was +always wagging. Within a few days after the receipt of his letter she +had made up her mind that she did not want him as a husband, and she was +convinced he did not want her. The whole matter of marriage had, she was +sure, been in some way suggested by her father. When she came to that +conclusion she was both angry and in an odd way touched. She did not +interpret it as fear of some sort of indiscretion on her part, but thought +that her father wanted her to marry because he wanted her to be happy. As +she sat in the darkness on the front porch of the farmhouse the voices of +the two men became indistinct. It was as though her mind went out of her +body and like a living thing journeyed over the world. Dozens of men she +had seen and had casually addressed, young fellows attending school at +Columbus and boys of the town with whom she had gone to parties and dances +when she was a young girl, came to stand before her. She saw their figures +distinctly, but remembered them at some advantageous moment of her contact +with them. At Columbus there was a young man from a town in the southern +end of the State, one of the sort that is always in love with a woman. +During her first year in school he had noticed Clara, had been undecided +as to whether he had better pay attention to her or to a little black-eyed +town girl who was in their classes. Several times he walked down the +college hill and along the street with Clara. The two stood at a street +crossing where she was in the habit of taking a car. Several cars went +by as they stood together by a bush that grew by a high stone wall. They +talked of trivial matters, a comedy club that had been organized in the +school, the chances of victory for the football team. The young man was one +of the actors in a play to be given by the comedy club and told Clara of +his experiences at rehearsals. As he talked his eyes began to shine and he +seemed to be looking, not at her face or body, but at something within her. +For a time, perhaps for fifteen minutes, there was a possibility that the +two people would love each other. Then the young man went away and later +she saw him walking under the trees on the college campus with the little +black-eyed town girl. + +As she sat on the porch in the darkness in the summer evenings, Clara +thought of the incident and of dozens of other swift-passing contacts +she had made with men. The voices of the two men talking of money-making +went on and on. Whenever she came back out of her introspective world of +thought, Alfred Buckley's long jaw was wagging. He was always at work, +steadily, persistently urging something on her father. It was difficult +for Clara to think of her father as a rabbit, but the notion that Alfred +Buckley was like a hound stayed with her. "The wolf and the wolfhound," she +thought absent-mindedly. + +Clara was twenty-three and seemed to herself mature. She did not intend +wasting any more time going to school and did not want to be a professional +woman, like Kate Chanceller. There was something she did want and in a +way some man, she did not know what man it would be, was concerned in the +matter. She was very hungry for love, but might have got that from another +woman. Kate Chanceller would have loved her. She was not unconscious of +the fact that their friendship had been something more than friendship. +Kate loved to hold Clara's hand and wanted to kiss and caress her. The +inclination had been put down by Kate herself, a struggle had gone on in +her, and Clara had been dimly conscious of it and had respected Kate for +making it. + +Why? Clara asked herself that question a dozen times during the early weeks +of that summer. Kate Chanceller had taught her to think. When they were +together Kate did both the thinking and the talking, but now Clara's mind +had a chance. There was something back of her desire for a man. She wanted +something more than caresses. There was a creative impulse in her that +could not function until she had been made love to by a man. The man she +wanted was but an instrument she sought in order that she might fulfill +herself. Several times during those evenings in the presence of the two +men, who talked only of making money out of the products of another man's +mind, she almost forced her mind out into a concrete thought concerning +women, and then it became again befogged. + +Clara grew tired of thinking, and listened to the talk. The name of Hugh +McVey played through the persistent conversation like a refrain. It became +fixed in her mind. The inventor was not married. By the social system under +which she lived that and that only made him a possibility for her purposes. +She began to think of the inventor, and her mind, weary of playing about +her own figure, played about the figure of the tall, serious-looking man +she had seen on Main Street. When Alfred Buckley had driven away to town +for the night, she went upstairs to her own room but did not get into bed. +Instead, she put out her light and sat by an open window that looked out +upon the orchard and from which she could see a little stretch of the road +that ran past the farm house toward town. Every evening before Alfred +Buckley went away, there was a little scene on the front porch. When the +visitor got up to go, her father made some excuse for going indoors or +around the corner of the house into the barnyard. "I will have Jim Priest +hitch up your horse," he said and hurried away. Clara was left in the +company of the man who had pretended he wanted to marry her, and who, she +was convinced, wanted nothing of the kind. She was not embarrassed, but +could feel his embarrassment and enjoyed it. He made formal speeches. + +"Well, the night is fine," he said. Clara hugged the thought that he was +uncomfortable. "He has taken me for a green country girl, impressed with +him because he is from the city and dressed in fine clothes," she thought. +Sometimes her father stayed away five or ten minutes and she did not say a +word. When her father returned Alfred Buckley shook hands with him and then +turned to Clara, apparently now quite at his ease. "We have bored you, I'm +afraid," he said. He took her hand and leaning over, kissed the back of it +ceremoniously. Her father looked away. Clara went upstairs and sat by the +window. She could hear the two men continuing their talk in the road before +the house. After a time the front door banged, her father came into the +house and the visitor drove away. Everything became quiet and for a long +time she could hear the hoofs of Alfred Buckley's horse beating a rapid +tattoo on the road that led down into town. + +Clara thought of Hugh McVey. Alfred Buckley had spoken of him as a +backwoodsman with a streak of genius. He constantly harped on the notion +that he and Tom could use the man for their own ends, and she wondered if +both of the men were making as great a mistake about the inventor as they +were about her. In the silent summer night, when the sound of the horse's +hoofs had died away and when her father had quit stirring about the house, +she heard another sound. The corn-cutting machine factory was very busy and +had put on a night shift. When the night was still, or when there was a +slight breeze blowing up the hill from town, there was a low rumbling sound +coming from many machines working in wood and steel, followed at regular +intervals by the steady breathing of a steam engine. + +The woman at the window, like every one else in her town and in all the +towns of the mid-western country, became touched with the idea of the +romance of industry. The dreams of the Missouri boy that he had fought, had +by the strength of his persistency twisted into new channels so that they +had expressed themselves in definite things, in corn-cutting machines and +in machines for unloading coal cars and for gathering hay out of a field +and loading it on wagons without aid of human hands, were still dreams and +capable of arousing dreams in others. They awoke dreams in the mind of the +woman. The figures of other men that had been playing through her mind +slipped away and but the one figure remained. Her mind made up stories +concerning Hugh. She had read the absurd tale that had been printed in the +Cleveland paper and her fancy took hold of it. Like every other citizen +of America she believed in heroes. In books and magazines she had read +of heroic men who had come up out of poverty by some strange alchemy to +combine in their stout persons all of the virtues. The broad, rich land +demanded gigantic figures, and the minds of men had created the figures. +Lincoln, Grant, Garfield, Sherman, and a half dozen other men were +something more than human in the minds of the generation that came +immediately after the days of their stirring performance. Already industry +was creating a new set of semi-mythical figures. The factory at work in the +night-time in the town of Bidwell became, to the mind of the woman sitting +by the window in the farm house, not a factory but a powerful animal, +a powerful beast-like thing that Hugh had tamed and made useful to his +fellows. Her mind ran forward and took the taming of the beast for granted. +The hunger of her generation found a voice in her. Like every one else she +wanted heroes, and Hugh, to whom she had never talked and about whom she +knew nothing, became a hero. Her father, Alfred Buckley, Steve Hunter and +the rest were after all pigmies. Her father was a schemer; he had even +schemed to get her married, perhaps to further his own plans. In reality +his schemes were so ineffective that she did not need to be angry with him. +There was but one man of them all who was not a schemer. Hugh was what she +wanted to be. He was a creative force. In his hands dead inanimate things +became creative forces. He was what she wanted not herself but perhaps a +son, to be. The thought, at last definitely expressed, startled Clara, and +she arose from the chair by the window and prepared to go to bed. Something +within her body ached, but she did not allow herself to pursue further the +thoughts she had been having. + +On the day when she went with her father and Alfred Buckley to visit Hugh's +shop, Clara knew that she wanted to marry the man she would see there. The +thought was not expressed in her but slept like a seed newly planted in +fertile soil. She had herself managed that she be taken to the factory and +had also managed that she be left with Hugh while the two men went to look +at the half-completed hay-loader at the back of the shop. + +She had begun talking to Hugh while the four people stood on the little +grass plot before the shop. They went inside and her father and Buckley +went through a door toward the rear. She stopped by a bench and as she +continued talking Hugh was compelled to stop and stand beside her. She +asked questions, paid him vague compliments, and as he struggled, trying to +make conversation, she studied him. To cover his confusion he half turned +away and looked out through a window into Turner's Pike. His eyes, she +decided, were nice. They were somewhat small, but there was something gray +and cloudy in them, and the gray cloudiness gave her confidence in the +person behind the eyes. She could, she felt, trust him. There was something +in his eyes that was like the things most grateful to her own nature, +the sky seen across an open stretch of country or over a river that ran +straight away into the distance. Hugh's hair was coarse like the mane of a +horse, and his nose was like the nose of a horse. He was, she decided, very +like a horse; an honest, powerful horse, a horse that was humanized by the +mysterious, hungering thing that expressed itself through his eyes. "If I +have to live with an animal; if, as Kate Chanceller once said, we women +have to decide what other animal we are to live with before we can begin +being humans, I would rather live with a strong, kindly horse than a wolf +or a wolfhound," she found herself thinking. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +Hugh had no suspicion that Clara had him under consideration as a possible +husband. He knew nothing about her, but after she went away he began to +think. She was a woman and good to look upon and at once took Rose McCoy's +place in his mind. All unloved men and many who are loved play in a half +subconscious way with the figures of many women as women's minds play with +the figures of men, seeing them in many situations, vaguely caressing them, +dreaming of closer contacts. With Hugh the impulse toward women had started +late, but it was becoming every day more active. When he talked to Clara +and while she stayed in his presence, he was more embarrassed than he had +ever been before, because he was more conscious of her than he had ever +been of any other woman. In secret he was not the modest man he thought +himself. The success of his corn-cutting machine and his car-dumping +apparatus and the respect, amounting almost to worship, he sometimes saw in +the eyes of the people of the Ohio town had fed his vanity. It was a time +when all America was obsessed with one idea, and to the people of Bidwell +nothing could be more important, necessary and vital to progress than the +things Hugh had done. He did not walk and talk like the other people of the +town, and his body was over-large and loosely put together, but in secret +he did not want to be different even in a physical way. Now and then there +came an opportunity for a test of physical strength: an iron bar was to be +lifted or a part of some heavy machine swung into place in the shop. In +such a test he had found he could lift almost twice the load another could +handle. Two men grunted and strained, trying to lift a heavy bar off the +floor and put it on a bench. He came along and did the job alone and +without apparent effort. + +In his room at night or in the late afternoon or evening in the summer when +he walked on country roads, he sometimes felt keen hunger for recognition +of his merits from his fellows, and having no one to praise him, he praised +himself. When the Governor of the State spoke in praise of him before a +crowd and when he made Rose McCoy come away because it seemed immodest for +him to stay and hear such words, he found himself unable to sleep. After +tossing in his bed for two or three hours he got up and crept quietly out +of the house. He was like a man who, having an unmusical voice, sings to +himself in a bath-room while the water is making a loud, splashing noise. +On that night Hugh wanted to be an orator. As he stumbled in the darkness +along Turner's Pike he imagined himself Governor of a State addressing +a multitude of people. A mile north of Pickleville a dense thicket grew +beside the road, and Hugh stopped and addressed the young trees and bushes. +In the darkness the mass of bushes looked not unlike a crowd standing at +attention, listening. The wind blew and played in the thick, dry growth and +there was a sound as of many voices whispering words of encouragement. Hugh +said many foolish things. Expressions he had heard from the lips of Steve +Hunter and Tom Butterworth came into his mind and were repeated by his +lips. He spoke of the swift growth that had come to the town of Bidwell +as though it were an unmixed blessing, the factories, the homes of happy, +contented people, the coming of industrial development as something akin to +a visit of the gods. Rising to the height of egotism he shouted, "I have +done it. I have done it." + +Hugh heard a buggy coming along the road and fled into the thicket. A +farmer, who had gone to town for the evening and who had stayed after the +political meeting to talk with other farmers in Ben Head's saloon, went +homeward, asleep in his buggy. His head nodded up and down, heavy with +the vapors rising from many glasses of beer. Hugh came out of the thicket +feeling somewhat ashamed. The next day he wrote a letter to Sarah Shepherd +and told her of his progress. "If you or Henry want any money, I can let +you have all you want," he wrote, and did not resist the temptation to tell +her something of what the Governor had said of his work and his mind. +"Anyway they must think I amount to something whether I do or not," he said +wistfully. + +Having awakened to his own importance in the life about him, Hugh wanted +direct, human appreciation. After the failure of the effort both he and +Rose had made to break through the wall of embarrassment and reserve that +kept them apart, he knew pretty definitely that he wanted a woman, and +the idea, once fixed in his mind, grew to gigantic proportions. All women +became interesting, and he looked with hungry eyes at the wives of the +workmen who sometimes came to the shop door to pass a word with their +husbands, at young farm girls who drove along Turner's Pike on summer +afternoons, town girls who walked in the Bidwell Main Street in the +evening, at fair women and dark women. As he wanted a woman more +consciously and determinedly he became more afraid of individual women. His +success and his association with the workmen in his shop had made him less +self-conscious in the presence of men, but the women were different. In +their presence he was ashamed of his secret thoughts of them. + +On the day when he was left alone with Clara, Tom Butterworth and Alfred +Buckley stayed at the back of the shop for nearly twenty minutes. It was a +hot day and beads of sweat stood on Hugh's face. His sleeves were rolled to +his elbows and his hands and hairy arms were covered with shop grime. He +put up his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, leaving a long, black +mark. Then he became aware of the fact that as she talked the woman looked +at him in an absorbed, almost calculating way. It was as though he were a +horse and she were a buyer examining him to be sure he was sound and of +a kindly disposition. While she stood beside him her eyes were shining +and her cheeks were flushed. The awakening, assertive male thing in him +whispered that the flush on her cheeks and the shining eyes were indicative +of something. His mind had been taught that lesson by the slight and wholly +unsatisfactory experience with the school teacher at his boarding-house. + +Clara drove away from the shop with her father and Alfred Buckley. Tom +drove and Alfred Buckley leaned forward and talked. "You must find out +whether or not Steve has an option on the new tool. It would be foolish to +ask outright and give ourselves away. That inventor is stupid and vain. +Those fellows always are. They appear to be quiet and shrewd, but they +always let the cat out of the bag. The thing to do is to flatter him in +some way. A woman could find out all he knows in ten minutes." He turned to +Clara and smiled. There was something infinitely impertinent in the fixed, +animal-like stare of his eyes. "We do take you into our plans, your father +and me, eh?" he said. "You must be careful not to give us away when you +talk to that inventor." + +From his shop window Hugh stared at the backs of the heads of the three +people. The top of Tom Butterworth's buggy had been let down, and when he +talked Alfred Buckley leaned forward and his head disappeared. Hugh thought +Clara must look like the kind of woman men meant when they spoke of a lady. +The farmer's daughter had an instinct for clothes, and Hugh's mind got the +idea of gentility by way of the medium of clothes. He thought the dress +she had worn the most stylish thing he had ever seen. Clara's friend Kate +Chanceller, while mannish in her dress, had an instinct for style and had +taught Clara some valuable lessons. "Any woman can dress well if she knows +how," Kate had declared. She had taught Clara how to study and emphasize by +dress the good points of her body. Beside Clara, Rose McCoy looked dowdy +and commonplace. + +Hugh went to the rear of his shop to where there was a water-tap and washed +his hands. Then he went to a bench and tried to take up the work he had +been doing. Within five minutes he went to wash his hands again. He went +out of the shop and stood beside the small stream that rippled along +beneath willow bushes and disappeared under the bridge beneath Turner's +Pike, and then went back for his coat and quit work for the day. An +instinct led him to go past the creek again and he knelt on the grass at +the edge and again washed his hands. + +Hugh's growing vanity was fed by the thought that Clara was interested in +him, but it was not yet strong enough to sustain the thought. He took a +long walk, going north from the shop along Turner's Pike for two or three +miles and then by a cross road between corn and cabbage fields to where he +could, by crossing a meadow, get into a wood. For an hour he sat on a log +at the wood's edge and looked south. Away in the distance, over the roofs +of the houses of the town, he could see a white speck against a background +of green--the Butterworth farm house. Almost at once he decided that the +thing he had seen in Clara's eyes and that was sister to something he had +seen in Rose McCoy's eyes had nothing to do with him. The mantle of vanity +he had been wearing dropped off and left him naked and sad. "What would she +be wanting of me?" he asked himself, and got up from the log to look with +critical eyes at his long, bony body. For the first time in two or three +years he thought of the words so often repeated in his presence by Sarah +Shepard in the first few months after he left his father's shack by the +shore of the Mississippi River and came to work at the railroad station. +She had called his people lazy louts and poor white trash and had railed +against his inclination to dreams. By struggle and work he had conquered +the dreams but could not conquer his ancestry, nor change the fact that he +was at bottom poor white trash. With a shudder of disgust he saw himself +again a boy in ragged clothes that smelled of fish, lying stupid and half +asleep in the grass beside the Mississippi River. He forgot the majesty of +the dreams that sometimes came to him, and only remembered the swarms of +flies that, attracted by the filth of their clothes, hovered over him and +over the drunken father who lay sleeping beside him. + +A lump arose in his throat and for a moment he was consumed with self-pity. +Then he went out of the wood, crossed the field, and with his peculiar, +long, shambling gait that got him over the ground with surprising rapidity, +went again along the road. Had there been a stream nearby he would have +been tempted to tear off his clothes and plunge in. The notion that he +could ever become a man who would in any way be attractive to a woman like +Clara Butterworth seemed the greatest folly in the world. "She's a lady. +What would she be wanting of me? I ain't fitten for her. I ain't fitten for +her," he said aloud, unconsciously falling into the dialect of his father. + +Hugh walked the entire afternoon away and in the evening went back to his +shop and worked until midnight. So energetically did he work that several +knotty problems in the construction of the hay-loading apparatus were +cleared away. + +On the second evening after the encounter with Clara, Hugh went for a walk +in the streets of Bidwell. He thought of the work on which he had been +engaged all day and then of the woman he had made up his mind he could +under no circumstances win. As darkness came on he went into the country, +and at nine returned along the railroad tracks past the corn-cutter +factory. The factory was working day and night, and the new plant, also +beside the tracks and but a short distance away, was almost completed. +Behind the new plant was a field Tom Butterworth and Steve Hunter had +bought and laid out in streets of workingmen's houses. The houses were +cheaply constructed and ugly, and in all directions there was a vast +disorder; but Hugh did not see the disorder or the ugliness of the +buildings. The sight that lay before him strengthened his waning vanity. +Something of the loose shuffle went out of his stride and he threw back his +shoulders. "What I have done here amounts to something. I'm all right," he +thought, and had almost reached the old corn-cutter plant when several men +came out of a side door and getting upon the tracks, walked before him. + +In the corn-cutter plant something had happened that excited the men. Ed +Hall the superintendent had played a trick on his fellow townsmen. He had +put on overalls and gone to work at a bench in a long room with some fifty +other men. "I'm going to show you up," he said, laughing. "You watch me. +We're behind on the work and I'm going to show you up." + +The pride of the workmen had been touched, and for two weeks they had +worked like demons to outdo the boss. At night when the amount of work done +was calculated, they laughed at Ed. Then they heard that the piece-work +plan was to be installed in the factory, and were afraid they would be paid +by a scale calculated on the amount of work done during the two weeks of +furious effort. + +The workman who stumbled along the tracks cursed Ed Hall and the men for +whom he worked. "I lost six hundred dollars in the plant-setting machine +failure and this is all I get, to be played a trick on by a young suck like +Ed Hall," a voice grumbled. Another voice took up the refrain. In the dim +light Hugh could see the speaker, a man with a bent back, a product of the +cabbage fields, who had come to town to find employment. Although he did +not recognize it, he had heard the voice before. It came from a son of +the cabbage farmer, Ezra French and was the same voice he had once heard +complaining at night as the French boys crawled across a cabbage field in +the moonlight. The man now said something that startled Hugh. "Well," he +declared, "it's a joke on me. I quit Dad and made him sore; now he won't +take me back again. He says I'm a quitter and no good. I thought I'd come +to town to a factory and find it easier here. Now I've got married and have +to stick to my job no matter what they do. In the country I worked like a +dog a few weeks a year, but here I'll probably have to work like that all +the time. It's the way things go. I thought it was mighty funny, all this +talk about the factory work being so easy. I wish the old days were back. I +don't see how that inventor or his inventions ever helped us workers. Dad +was right about him. He said an inventor wouldn't do nothing for workers. +He said it would be better to tar and feather that telegraph operator. I +guess Dad was right." + +The swagger went out of Hugh's walk and he stopped to let the men pass out +of sight and hearing along the track. When they had gone a little away a +quarrel broke out. Each man felt the others must be in some way responsible +for his betrayal in the matter of the contest with Ed Hall and accusations +flew back and forth. One of the men threw a heavy stone that ran down along +the tracks and jumped into a ditch filled with dry weeds. It made a heavy +crashing sound. Hugh heard heavy footsteps running. He was afraid the men +were going to attack him, and climbed over a fence, crossed a barnyard, and +got into an empty street. As he went along trying to understand what had +happened and why the men were angry, he met Clara Butterworth, standing and +apparently waiting for him under a street lamp. + + * * * * * + +Hugh walked beside Clara, too perplexed to attempt to understand the new +impulses crowding in upon his mind. She explained her presence in the +street by saying she had been to town to mail a letter and intended walking +home by a side road. "You may come with me if you're just out for a walk," +she said. The two walked in silence. Hugh's mind, unaccustomed to traveling +in wide circles, centered on his companion. Life seemed suddenly to +be crowding him along strange roads. In two days he had felt more new +emotions and had felt them more deeply than he would have thought possible +to a human being. The hour through which he had just passed had been +extraordinary. He had started out from his boarding-house sad and +depressed. Then he had come by the factories and pride in what he thought +he had accomplished swept in on him. Now it was apparent the workers in the +factories were not happy, that there was something the matter. He wondered +if Clara would know what was wrong and would tell him if he asked. He +wanted to ask many questions. "That's what I want a woman for. I want +some one close to me who understands things and will tell me about them," +he thought. Clara remained silent and Hugh decided that she, like the +complaining workman stumbling along the tracks, did not like him. The +man had said he wished Hugh had never come to town. Perhaps every one in +Bidwell secretly felt that way. + +Hugh was no longer proud of himself and his achievements. Perplexity had +captured him. When he and Clara got out of town into a country road, he +began thinking of Sarah Shepard, who had been friendly and kind to him when +he was a lad, and wished she were with him, or better yet that Clara would +take the attitude toward him she had taken. Had Clara taken it into her +head to scold as Sarah Shepard had done he would have been relieved. + +Instead Clara walked in silence, thinking of her own affairs and planning +to use Hugh for her own ends. It had been a perplexing day for her. Late +that afternoon there had been a scene between her and her father and she +had left home and come to town because she could no longer bear being in +his presence. When she had seen Hugh coming toward her she had stopped +under a street lamp to wait for him. "I could set everything straight by +getting him to ask me to marry him," she thought. + +The new difficulty that had arisen between Clara and her father was +something with which she had nothing to do. Tom, who thought himself so +shrewd and crafty, had been taken in by the city man, Alfred Buckley. A +federal officer had come to town during the afternoon to arrest Buckley. +The man had turned out to be a notorious swindler wanted in several cities. +In New York he had been one of a gang who distributed counterfeit money, +and in other states he was wanted for swindling women, two of whom he +married unlawfully. + +The arrest had been like a shot fired at Tom by a member of his own +household. He had almost come to think of Alfred Buckley as one of his +family, and as he drove rapidly along the road toward home, he had been +profoundly sorry for his daughter and had intended to ask her to forgive +him for his part in betraying her into a false position. That he had not +openly committed himself to any of Buckley's schemes, had signed no papers +and written no letters that would betray the conspiracy he had entered +into against Steve, filled him with joy. He had intended to be generous, +and even, if necessary, confess to Clara his indiscretion in talking of a +possible marriage, but when he got to the farm house and had taken Clara +into the parlor and had closed the door, he changed his mind. He told her +of Buckley's arrest, and then started tramping excitedly up and down in +the room. Her coolness infuriated him. "Don't set there like a clam!" he +shouted. "Don't you know what's happened? Don't you know you're disgraced, +have brought disgrace on my name?" + +The angry father explained that half the town knew of her engagement to +marry Alfred Buckley, and when Clara declared they were not engaged and +that she had never intended marrying the man, his anger did not abate. He +had himself whispered the suggestion about town, had told Steve Hunter, +Gordon Hart, and two or three others, that Alfred Buckley and his daughter +would no doubt do what he spoke of as "hitting it off," and they had of +course told their wives. The fact that he had betrayed his daughter into an +ugly position gnawed at his consciousness. "I suppose the rascal told it +himself," he said, in reply to her statement, and again gave way to anger. +He glared at his daughter and wished she were a son so he could strike with +his fists. His voice arose to a shout and could be heard in the barnyard +where Jim Priest and a young farm hand were at work. They stopped work and +listened. "She's been up to something. Do you suppose some man has got her +in trouble?" the young farm hand asked. + +In the house Tom expressed his old dissatisfaction with his daughter. "Why +haven't you married and settled down like a decent woman?" he shouted. +"Tell me that. Why haven't you married and settled down? Why are you always +getting in trouble? Why haven't you married and settled down?" + + * * * * * + +Clara walked in the road beside Hugh and thought that all her troubles +would come to an end if he would ask her to be his wife. Then she became +ashamed of her thoughts. As they passed the last street lamp and prepared +to set out by a roundabout way along a dark road, she turned to look at +Hugh's long, serious face. The tradition that had made him appear different +from other men in the eyes of the people of Bidwell began to affect her. +Ever since she had come home she had been hearing people speak of him with +something like awe in their voices. For her to marry the town's hero would, +she knew, set her on a high place in the eyes of her people. It would be a +triumph for her and would re-establish her, not only in her father's eyes +but in the eyes of every one. Every one seemed to think she should marry; +even Jim Priest had said so. He had said she was the marrying kind. Here +was her chance. She wondered why she did not want to take it. + +Clara had written her friend Kate Chanceller a letter in which she had +declared her intention of leaving home and going to work, and had come to +town afoot to mail it. On Main Street as she went through the crowds of +men who had come to loaf the evening away before the stores, the force +of what her father had said concerning the connection of her name with +that of Buckley the swindler had struck her for the first time. The men +were gathered together in groups, talking excitedly. No doubt they were +discussing Buckley's arrest. Her own name was, no doubt, being bandied +about. Her cheeks burned and a keen hatred of mankind had possession of +her. Now her hatred of others awoke in her an almost worshipful attitude +toward Hugh. By the time they had walked together for five minutes all +thought of using him to her own ends had gone. "He's not like Father or +Henderson Woodburn or Alfred Buckley," she told herself. "He doesn't scheme +and twist things about trying to get the best of some one else. He works, +and because of his efforts things are accomplished." The figure of the farm +hand Jim Priest working in a field of corn came to her mind. "The farm hand +works," she thought, "and the corn grows. This man sticks to his task in +his shop and makes a town grow." + +In her father's presence during the afternoon Clara had remained calm and +apparently indifferent to his tirade. In town in the presence of the men +she was sure were attacking her character, she had been angry, ready to +fight. Now she wanted to put her head on Hugh's shoulder and cry. + +They came to the bridge near where the road turned and led to her father's +house. It was the same bridge to which she had come with the school teacher +and to which John May had followed, looking for a fight. Clara stopped. +She did not want any one at the house to know that Hugh had walked home +with her. "Father is so set on my getting married, he would go to see him +to-morrow," she thought. She put her arms upon the rail of the bridge and +bending over buried her face between them. Hugh stood behind her, turning +his head from side to side and rubbing his hands on his trouser legs, +beside himself with embarrassment. There was a flat, swampy field beside +the road and not far from the bridge, and after a moment of silence +the voices of a multitude of frogs broke the stillness. Hugh became +overwhelmingly sad. The notion that he was a big man and deserved to have a +woman to live with and understand him went entirely away. For the moment he +wanted to be a boy and put his head on the shoulder of the woman. He did +not look at Clara but at himself. In the dim light his hands, nervously +fumbling about, his long, loosely-put-together body, everything connected +with his person, seemed ugly and altogether unattractive. He could see +the woman's small firm hands that lay on the railing of the bridge. They +were, he thought, like everything connected with her person, shapely and +beautiful, just as everything connected with his own person was unshapely +and ugly. + +Clara aroused herself from the meditative mood that had taken possession of +her, and after shaking Hugh's hand and explaining that she did not want him +to go further went away. When he thought she had quite gone she came back. +"You'll hear I was engaged to that Alfred Buckley who has got into trouble +and has been arrested," she said. Hugh did not reply and her voice became +sharp and a little challenging. "You'll hear we were going to be married. +I don't know what you'll hear. It's a lie," she said and turning, hurried +away. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +Hugh and Clara were married in less than a week after their first walk +together. A chain of circumstances touching their two lives hurled them +into marriage, and the opportunity for the intimacy with a woman for which +Hugh so longed came to him with a swiftness that made him fairly dizzy. + +It was a Wednesday evening and cloudy. After dining in silence with his +landlady, Hugh started along Turner's Pike toward Bidwell, but when he had +got almost into town, turned back. He had left the house intending to go +through town to the Medina Road and to the woman who now occupied so large +a place in his thoughts, but hadn't the courage. Every evening for almost a +week he had taken the walk, and every evening and at almost the same spot +he turned back. He was disgusted and angry with himself and went to his +shop, walking in the middle of the road and kicking up clouds of dust. +People passed along the path under the trees at the side of the road and +turned to stare at him. A workingman with a fat wife, who puffed as she +walked at his side, turned to look and then began to scold. "I tell you +what, old woman, I shouldn't have married and had kids," he grumbled. "Look +at me, then look at that fellow. He goes along there thinking big thoughts +that will make him richer and richer. I have to work for two dollars a day, +and pretty soon I'll be old and thrown on the scrap-heap. I might have been +a rich inventor like him had I given myself a chance." + +The workman went on his way, grumbling at his wife who paid no attention +to his words. Her breath was needed for the labor of walking, and as for +the matter of marriage, that had been attended to. She saw no reason for +wasting words over the matter. Hugh went to the shop and stood leaning +against the door frame. Two or three workmen were busy near the back door +and had lighted gas lamps that hung over the work benches. They did not see +Hugh, and their voices ran through the empty building. One of them, an old +man with a bald head, entertained his fellows by giving an imitation of +Steve Hunter. He lighted a cigar and putting on his hat tipped it a little +to one side. Puffing out his chest he marched up and down talking of money. +"Here's a ten-dollar cigar," he said, handing a long stogie to one of the +other workmen. "I buy them by the thousands to give away. I'm interested in +uplifting the lives of workmen in my home town. That's what takes all my +attention." + +The other workmen laughed and the little man continued to prance up +and down and talk, but Hugh did not hear him. He stared moodily at the +people going along the road toward town. Darkness was coming but he could +still see dim figures striding along. Over at the foundry back of the +corn-cutting machine plant the night shift was pouring off, and a sudden +glare of light played across the heavy smoke cloud that lay over the town. +The bells of the churches began to call people to the Wednesday evening +prayer-meetings. Some enterprising citizen had begun to build workmen's +houses in a field beyond Hugh's shop and these were occupied by Italian +laborers. A crowd of them came past. What would some day be a tenement +district was growing in a field beside a cabbage patch belonging to Ezra +French who had said God would not permit men to change the field of their +labors. + +An Italian passed under a lamp near the Wheeling station. He wore a bright +red handkerchief about his neck and was clad in a brightly colored shirt. +Like the other people of Bidwell, Hugh did not like to see foreigners +about. He did not understand them and when he saw them going about the +streets in groups, was a little afraid. It was a man's duty, he thought, to +look as much as possible like all his fellow men, to lose himself in the +crowds, and these fellows did not look like other men. They loved color, +and as they talked they made rapid gestures with their hands. The Italian +in the road was with a woman of his own race, and in the growing darkness +put his arm about her shoulder. Hugh's heart began to beat rapidly and he +forgot his American prejudices. He wished he were a workman and that Clara +were a workman's daughter. Then, he thought, he might find courage to go to +her. His imagination, quickened by the flame of desire and running in new +channels, made it possible for him, at the moment to see himself in the +young Italian's place, walking in the road with Clara. She was clad in +a calico dress and her soft brown eyes looked at him full of love and +understanding. + +The three workingmen had completed the job for which they had come back to +work after the evening meal, and now turned out the lights and came toward +the front of the shop. Hugh drew back from the door and concealed himself +by standing in the heavy shadows by the wall. So realistic were his +thoughts of Clara that he did not want them intruded upon. + +The workmen went out of the shop door and stood talking. The bald-headed +man was telling a tale to which the others listened eagerly. "It's all over +town," he said. "From what I hear every one say it isn't the first time +she's been in such a mess. Old Tom Butterworth claimed he sent her away to +school three years ago, but now they say that isn't the truth. What they +say is that she was in the family way to one of her father's farm hands and +had to get out of town." The man laughed. "Lord, if Clara Butterworth was +my daughter she'd be in a nice fix, wouldn't she, eh?" he said, laughing. +"As it is, she's all right. She's gone now and got herself mixed up with +this swindler Buckley, but her father's money will make it all right. If +she's going to have a kid, no one'll know. Maybe she's already had the kid. +They say she's a regular one for the men." + +As the man talked Hugh came to the door and stood in the darkness +listening. For a time the words would not penetrate his consciousness, and +then he remembered what Clara had said. She had said something about Alfred +Buckley and that there would be a story connecting her name with his. She +had been hot and angry and had declared the story a lie. Hugh did not know +what the story was about, but it was evident there was a story abroad, a +scandalous story concerning her and Alfred Buckley. A hot, impersonal anger +took possession of him. "She's in trouble--here's my chance," he thought. +His tall figure straightened and as he stepped through the shop door his +head struck sharply against the door frame, but he did not feel the blow +that at another time might have knocked him down. During his whole life he +had never struck any one with his fists, and had never felt a desire to +do so, but now hunger to strike and even to kill took complete possession +of him. With a cry of rage his fist shot out and the old man who had done +the talking was knocked senseless into a clump of weeds that grew near +the door. Hugh whirled and struck a second man who fell through the open +doorway into the shop. The third man ran away into the darkness along +Turner's Pike. + +Hugh walked rapidly to town and through Main Street. He saw Tom Butterworth +walking in the street with Steve Hunter, but turned a corner to avoid a +meeting. "My chance has come," he kept saying to himself as he hurried +along Medina Road. "Clara's in some kind of trouble. My chance has come." + +By the time he got to the door of the Butterworth house, Hugh's new-found +courage had almost left him, but before it had quite gone he raised his +hand and knocked on the door. By good fortune Clara came to open it. Hugh +took off his hat and turned it awkwardly in his hands. "I came out here to +ask you to marry me," he said. "I want you to be my wife. Will you do it?" + +Clara stepped out of the house and closed the door. A whirl of thoughts ran +through her brain. For a moment she felt like laughing, and then what there +was in her of her father's shrewdness came to her rescue. "Why shouldn't I +do it?" she thought. "Here's my chance. This man is excited and upset now, +but he is a man I can respect. It's the best marriage I'll ever have a +chance to make. I do not love him, but perhaps that will come. This may be +the way marriages are made." + +Clara put out her hand and laid it on Hugh's arm. "Well," she said, +hesitatingly, "you wait here a moment." + +She went into the house and left Hugh standing in the darkness. He was +terribly afraid. It seemed to him that every secret desire of his life had +got itself suddenly and bluntly expressed. He felt naked and ashamed. "If +she comes out and says she'll marry me, what will I do? What'll I do then?" +he asked himself. + +When she did come out Clara wore her hat and a long coat. "Come," she said, +and led him around the house and through the barnyard to one of the barns. +She went into a dark stall and led forth a horse and with Hugh's help +pulled a buggy out of a shed into the barnyard. "If we're going to do it +there's no use putting it off," she said with a trembling voice. "We might +as well go to the county seat and do it at once." + +The horse was hitched and Clara got into the buggy. Hugh climbed in and sat +beside her. She had started to drive out of the barnyard when Jim Priest +stepped suddenly out of the darkness and took hold of the horse's head. +Clara held the buggy whip in her hand and raised it to hit the horse. A +desperate determination that nothing should interfere with her marriage +with Hugh had taken possession of her. "If necessary I'll ride the man +down," she thought. Jim came to stand beside the buggy. He looked past +Clara at Hugh. "I thought maybe it was that Buckley," he said. He put a +hand on the buggy dash and laid the other on Clara's arm. "You're a woman +now, Clara, and I guess you know what you're doing. I guess you know I'm +your friend," he said slowly. "You been in trouble, I know. I couldn't help +hearing what your father said to you about Buckley, he talked so loud. +Clara, I don't want to see you get into trouble." + +The farm hand stepped away from the buggy and then came back and again put +his hand on Clara's arm. The silence that lay over the barnyard lasted +until the woman felt she could speak without a break in her voice. + +"I'm not going very far, Jim," she said, laughing nervously. "This is Mr. +Hugh McVey and we're going over to the county seat to get married. We'll be +back home before midnight. You put a candle in the window for us." + +Hitting the horse a sharp blow, Clara drove quickly past the house and into +the road. She turned south into the hill country through which lay the road +to the county seat. As the horse trotted quickly along, the voice of Jim +Priest called to her out of the darkness of the barnyard, but she did not +stop. The afternoon and evening had been cloudy and the night was dark. She +was glad of that. As the horse went swiftly along she turned to look at +Hugh who sat up very stiffly on the buggy seat and stared straight ahead. +The long horse-like face of the Missourian with its huge nose and deeply +furrowed cheeks was ennobled by the soft darkness, and a tender feeling +crept over her. When he had asked her to become his wife, Clara had pounced +like a wild animal abroad seeking prey and the thing in her that was like +her father, hard, shrewd and quick-witted, had led her to decide to see the +thing through at once. Now she became ashamed, and her tender mood took the +hardness and shrewdness away. "This man and I have a thousand things we +should say to each other before we rush into marriage," she thought, and +was half inclined to turn the horse and drive back. She wondered if Hugh +had also heard the stories connecting her name with that of Buckley, the +stories she was sure were now running from lip to lip through the streets +of Bidwell, and what version of the tale had been carried to him. "Perhaps +he came to propose marriage in order to protect me," she thought, and +decided that if he had come for that reason she was taking an unfair +advantage. "It is what Kate Chanceller would call 'doing the man a dirty, +low-down trick,'" she told herself; but even as the thought came she leaned +forward and touching the horse with the whip urged him even more swiftly +along the road. + +A mile south of the Butterworth farmhouse the road to the county seat +crossed the crest of a hill, the highest point in the county, and from the +road there was a magnificent view of the country lying to the south. The +sky had begun to clear, and as they reached the point known as Lookout +Hill, the moon broke through a tangle of clouds. Clara stopped the horse +and turned to look down the hillside. Below lay the lights of her father's +farmhouse--where he had come as a young man and to which long ago he had +brought his bride. Far below the farmhouse a clustered mass of lights +outlined the swiftly growing town. The determination that had carried Clara +thus far wavered again and a lump came into her throat. + +Hugh also turned to look but did not see the dark beauty of the country +wearing its night jewels of lights. The woman he wanted so passionately +and of whom he was so afraid had her face turned from him, and he dared to +look at her. He saw the sharp curve of her breasts and in the dim light +her cheeks seemed to glow with beauty. An odd notion came to him. In the +uncertain light her face seemed to move independent of her body. It drew +near him and then drew away. Once he thought the dimly seen white cheek +would touch his own. He waited breathless. A flame of desire ran through +his body. + +Hugh's mind flew back through the years to his boyhood and young manhood. +In the river town when he was a boy the raftsmen and hangers-on of the +town's saloons, who had sometimes come to spend an afternoon on the river +banks with his father John McVey, often spoke of women and marriage. As +they lay on the burned grass in the warm sunlight they talked and the boy +who lay half asleep nearby listened. The voices came to him as though out +of the clouds or up out of the lazy waters of the great river and the talk +of women awoke his boyhood lusts. One of the men, a tall young fellow with +a mustache and with dark rings under his eyes, told in a lazy, drawling +voice the tale of an adventure had with a woman one night when a raft on +which he was employed had tied up near the city of St. Louis, and Hugh +listened enviously. As he told the tale the young man a little awoke from +his stupor, and when he laughed the other men lying about laughed with him. +"I got the best of her after all," he boasted. "After it was all over we +went into a little room at the back of a saloon. I watched my chance and +when she went to sleep sitting in a chair I took eight dollars out of her +stocking." + +That night in the buggy beside Clara, Hugh thought of himself lying by the +river bank on the summer days. Dreams had come to him there, sometimes +gigantic dreams; but there had also come ugly thoughts and desires. By his +father's shack there was always the sharp rancid smell of decaying fish and +swarms of flies filled the air. Out in the clean Ohio country, in the hills +south of Bidwell, it seemed to him that the smell of decaying fish came +back, that it was in his clothes, that it had in some way worked its way +into his nature. He put up his hand and swept it across his face, an +unconscious return of the perpetual movement of brushing flies away from +his face as he lay half asleep by the river. + +Little lustful thoughts kept coming to Hugh and made him ashamed. He moved +restlessly in the buggy seat and a lump came into his throat. Again he +looked at Clara. "I'm a poor white," he thought. "It isn't fitten I should +marry this woman." + +From the high spot in the road Clara looked down at her father's house and +below at the lights of the town, that had already spread so far over the +countryside, and up through the hills toward the farm where she had spent +her girlhood and where, as Jim Priest had said, "the sap had begun to run +up the tree." She began to love the man who was to be her husband, but like +the dreamers of the town, saw him as something a little inhuman, as a man +almost gigantic in his bigness. Many things Kate Chanceller had said as the +two developing women walked and talked in the streets of Columbus came back +to her mind. When they had started again along the road she continually +worried the horse by tapping him with the whip. Like Kate, Clara wanted to +be fair and square. "A woman should be fair and square, even with a man," +Kate had said. "The man I'm going to have as a husband is simple and +honest," she thought. "If there are things down there in town that are not +square and fair, he had nothing to do with them." Realizing a little Hugh's +difficulty in expressing what he must feel, she wanted to help him, but +when she turned and saw how he did not look at her but continually stared +into the darkness, pride kept her silent. "I'll have to wait until he's +ready. Already I've taken things too much into my own hands. I'll put +through this marriage, but when it comes to anything else he'll have to +begin," she told herself, and a lump came into her throat and tears to her +eyes. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +As he stood alone in the barnyard, excited at the thought of the adventure +on which Clara and Hugh had set out, Jim Priest remembered Tom Butterworth. +For more than thirty years Jim had worked for Tom and they had one strong +impulse that bound them together--their common love of fine horses. More +than once the two men had spent an afternoon together in the grand stand at +the fall trotting meeting at Cleveland. In the late morning of such a day +Tom found Jim wandering from stall to stall, looking at the horses being +rubbed down and prepared for the afternoon's races. In a generous mood he +bought his employee's lunch and took him to a seat in the grand stand. +All afternoon the two men watched the races, smoked and quarreled. Tom +contended that Bud Doble, the debonair, the dramatic, the handsome, +was the greatest of all race horse drivers, and Jim Priest held Bud +Doble in contempt. For him there was but one man of all the drivers he +whole-heartedly admired, Pop Geers, the shrewd and silent. "That Geers +of yours doesn't drive at all. He just sits up there like a stick," Tom +grumbled. "If a horse can win all right, he'll ride behind him all right. +What I like to see is a driver. Now you look at that Doble. You watch him +bring a horse through the stretch." + +Jim looked at his employer with something like pity in his eyes. "Huh," he +exclaimed. "If you haven't got eyes you can't see." + +The farm hand had two strong loves in his life, his employer's daughter and +the race horse driver, Geers. "Geers," he declared, "was a man born old +and wise." Often he had seen Geers at the tracks on a morning before some +important race. The driver sat on an upturned box in the sun before one of +the horse stalls. All about him there was the bantering talk of horsemen +and grooms. Bets were made and challenges given. On the tracks nearby +horses, not entered in the races for that day, were being exercised. Their +hoofbeats made a kind of music that made Jim's blood tingle. Negroes +laughed and horses put their heads out at stall doors. The stallions +neighed loudly and the heels of some impatient steed rattled against the +sides of a stall. + +Every one about the stalls talked of the events of the afternoon and Jim +leaned against the front of one of the stalls and listened, filled with +happiness. He wished the fates had made him a racing man. Then he looked at +Pop Geers, the silent one, who sat for hours dumb and uncommunicative on a +feed box, tapping lightly on the ground with his racing whip and chewing +straw. Jim's imagination was aroused. He had once seen that other silent +American, General Grant, and had been filled with admiration for him. + +That was on a great day in Jim's life, the day on which he had seen Grant +going to receive Lee's surrender at Appomattox. There had been a battle +with the Union men pursuing the fleeing Rebs out of Richmond, and Jim, +having secured a bottle of whisky, and having a chronic dislike of battles, +had managed to creep away into a wood. In the distance he heard shouts and +presently saw several men riding furiously down a road. It was Grant with +his aides going to the place where Lee waited. They rode to the place near +where Jim sat with his back against a tree and the bottle between his legs; +then stopped. Then Grant decided not to take part in the ceremony. His +clothes were covered with mud and his beard was ragged. He knew Lee and +knew he would be dressed for the occasion. He was that kind of a man; +he was one fitted for historic pictures and occasions. Grant wasn't. He +told his aides to go on to the spot where Lee waited, told them what +arrangements were to be made, then jumped his horse over a ditch and rode +along a path under the trees toward the spot where Jim lay. + +That was an event Jim never forgot. He was fascinated at the thought of +what the day meant to Grant and by his apparent indifference. He sat +silently by the tree and when Grant got off his horse and came near, +walking now in the path where the sunlight sifted down through the trees, +he closed his eyes. Grant came to where he sat and stopped, apparently +thinking him dead. His hand reached down and took the bottle of whisky. +For a moment they had something between them, Grant and Jim. They both +understood that bottle of whisky. Jim thought Grant was about to drink, +and opened his eyes a little. Then he closed them. The cork was out of the +bottle and Grant clutched it in his hand tightly. From the distance there +came a vast shout that was picked up and carried by voices far away. The +wood seemed to rock with it. "It's done. The war's over," Jim thought. Then +Grant reached over and smashed the bottle against the trunk of the tree +above Jim's head. A piece of the flying glass cut his cheek and blood came. +He opened his eyes and looked directly into Grant's eyes. For a moment the +two men stared at each other and the great shout again rolled over the +country. Grant went hurriedly along the path to where he had left his +horse, and mounting, rode away. + +Standing in the race track looking at Geers, Jim thought of Grant. Then his +mind came back to this other hero. "What a man!" he thought. "Here he goes +from town to town and from race track to race track all through the spring, +summer and fall, and he never loses his head, never gets excited. To win +horse races is the same as winning battles. When I'm at home plowing corn +on summer afternoons, this Geers is away somewhere at some track with all +the people gathered about and waiting. To me it would be like being drunk +all the time, but you see he isn't drunk. Whisky could make him stupid. It +couldn't make him drunk. There he sits hunched up like a sleeping dog. He +looks as though he cared about nothing on earth, and he'll sit like that +through three-quarters of the hardest race, waiting, taking advantage of +every little stretch of firm hard ground on the track, saving his horse, +watching, watching his horse too, waiting. What a man! He works the horse +into fourth place, into third, into second. The crowd in the grand stand, +such fellows as Tom Butterworth, have not seen what he's doing. He sits +still. By God, what a man! He waits. He looks half asleep. If he doesn't +have to do it, he makes no effort. If the horse has it in him to win +without help he sits still. The people are shouting and jumping up out of +their seats in the grand stand, and if that Bud Doble has a horse in the +race he's leaning forward in the sulky, shouting at his horse and making a +holy show of himself. + +"Ha, that Geers! He waits. He doesn't think of the people but of the horse +he's driving. When the time comes, just the right time, that Geers, he lets +the horse know. They are one at that moment, like Grant and I were over +that bottle of whisky. Something happens between them. Something inside the +man says, 'now,' and the message runs along the reins to the horse's brain. +It flies down into his legs. There is a rush. The head of the horse has +just worked its way out in front by inches--not too soon, nothing wasted. +Ha, that Geers! Bud Doble, huh!" + +On the night of Clara's marriage after she and Hugh had disappeared down +the county seat road, Jim hurried into the barn and, bringing out a horse, +sprang on his back. He was sixty-three but could mount a horse like a young +man. As he rode furiously toward Bidwell he thought, not of Clara and her +adventure, but of her father. To both men the right kind of marriage meant +success in life for a woman. Nothing else really mattered much if that were +accomplished. He thought of Tom Butterworth, who, he told himself, had +fussed with Clara just as Bud Doble often fussed with a horse in a race. He +had himself been like Pop Geers. All along he had known and understood the +mare colt, Clara. Now she had come through; she had won the race of life. + +"Ha, that old fool!" Jim whispered to himself as he rode swiftly down the +dark road. When the horse ran clattering over a small wooden bridge and +came to the first of the houses of the town, he felt like one coming to +announce a victory, and half expected a vast shout to come out of the +darkness, as it had come in the moment of Grant's victory over Lee. + +Jim could not find his employer at the hotel or in Main Street, but +remembered a tale he had heard whispered. Fanny Twist the milliner lived +in a little frame house in Garfield Street, far out at the eastern edge +of town, and he went there. He banged boldly on the door and the woman +appeared. "I've got to see Tom Butterworth," he said. "It's important. It's +about his daughter. Something has happened to her." + +The door closed and presently Tom came around the corner of the house. He +was furious. Jim's horse stood in the road, and he went straight to him and +took hold of the bit. "What do you mean by coming here?" he asked sharply. +"Who told you I was here? What business you got coming here and making a +show of yourself? What's the matter of you? Are you drunk or out of your +head?" + +Jim got off the horse and told Tom the news. For a moment the two stood +looking at each other. "Hugh McVey--Hugh McVey, by crackies, are you right, +Jim?" Tom exclaimed. "No missfire, eh? She's really gone and done it? Hugh +McVey, eh? By crackies!" + +"They're on the way to the county seat now," Jim said softly. "Missfire! +Not on your life." His voice lost the cool, quiet tone he had so often +dreamed of maintaining in great emergencies. "I figure they'll be back by +twelve or one," he said eagerly. "We got to blow 'em out, Tom. We got to +give that girl and her husband the biggest blowout ever seen in this +county, and we got just about three hours to get ready for it." + +"Get off that horse and give me a boost," Tom commanded. With a grunt +of satisfaction he sprang to the horse's back. The belated impulse to +philander that an hour before sent him creeping through back streets and +alleyways to the door of Fanny Twist's house was all gone, and in its place +had come the spirit of the man of affairs, the man who, as he himself often +boasted, made things move and kept them on the move. "Now look here, Jim," +he said sharply, "there are three livery stables in this town. You engage +every horse they've got for the night. Have the horses hitched to any kind +of rigs you can find, buggies, surreys, spring wagons, anything. Have them +get drivers off the streets, anywhere. Then have them all brought around +in front of the Bidwell House and held for me. When you've done that, you +go to Henry Heller's house. I guess you can find it. You found this house +where I was fast enough. He lives on Campus Street just beyond the new +Baptist Church. If he's gone to bed you get him up. Tell him to get his +orchestra together and have him bring all the lively music he's got. Tell +him to bring his men to the Bidwell House as fast as he can get them +there." + +Tom rode off along the street followed by Jim Priest, running at the +horse's heels. When he had gone a little way he stopped. "Don't let any one +fuss with you about prices to-night, Jim," he called. "Tell every one it's +for me. Tell 'em Tom Butterworth'll pay what they ask. The sky's the limit +to-night, Jim. That's the word, the sky's the limit." + +To the older citizens of Bidwell, those who lived there when every +citizen's affairs were the affair of the town, that evening will be long +remembered. The new men, the Italians, Greeks, Poles, Rumanians, and many +other strange-talking, dark-skinned men who had come with the coming of +the factories, went on with their lives on that evening as on all others. +They worked in the night shift at the Corn-Cutting Machine Plant, at the +foundry, the bicycle factory or at the big new Tool Machine Factory that +had just moved to Bidwell from Cleveland. Those who were not at work +lounged in the streets or wandered aimlessly in and out of saloons. Their +wives and children were housed in the hundreds of new frame houses in the +streets that now crept out in all directions. In those days in Bidwell new +houses seemed to spring out of the ground like mushrooms. In the morning +there was a field or an orchard on Turner Pike or on any one of a dozen +roads leading out of town. On the trees in the orchard green apples hung +down waiting, ready to ripen. Grasshoppers sang in the long grass beneath +the trees. + +Then appeared Ben Peeler with a swarm of men. The trees were cut and the +song of the grasshopper choked beneath piles of boards. There was a great +shouting and rattling of hammers. A whole street of houses, all alike, +universally ugly, had been added to the vast number of new houses already +built by that energetic carpenter and his partner Gordon Hart. + +To the people who lived in these houses, the excitement of Tom Butterworth +and Jim Priest meant nothing. Half sullenly they worked, striving to make +money enough to take them back to their native lands. In the new place they +had not, as they had hoped, been received as brothers. A marriage or a +death there meant nothing to them. + +To the old townsmen however, those who remembered Tom when he was a simple +farmer and when Steve Hunter was looked upon with contempt as a boasting +young squirt, the night rocked with excitement. Men ran through the +streets. Drivers lashed their horses along roads. Tom was everywhere. He +was like a general in charge of the defenses of a besieged town. The cooks +at all three of the town's hotels were sent back into their kitchens, +waiters were found and hurried out to the Butterworth house, and Henry +Heller's orchestra was instructed to get out there at once and to start +playing the liveliest possible music. + +Tom asked every man and woman he saw to the wedding party. The hotel keeper +was invited with his wife and daughter and two or three keepers of stores +who came to the hotel to bring supplies were asked, commanded to come. Then +there were the men of the factories, the office men and superintendents, +new men who had never seen Clara. They also, with the town bankers and +other solid fellows with money in the banks, who were investors in Tom's +enterprises, were invited. "Put on the best clothes you've got in the world +and have your women folks do the same," he said laughing. "Then you get out +to my house as soon as you can. If you haven't any way to get there, come +to the Bidwell House. I'll get you out." + +Tom did not forget that in order to have his wedding party go as he wished, +he would need to serve drinks. Jim Priest went from bar to bar. "What wine +you got--good wine? How much you got?" he asked at each place. Steve Hunter +had in the cellar of his house six cases of champagne kept there against a +time when some important guest, the Governor of the State or a Congressman, +might come to town. He felt that on such occasions it was up to him to see +that the town, as he said, "did itself proud." When he heard what was going +on he hurried to the Bidwell House and offered to send his entire stock of +wine out to Tom's house, and his offer was accepted. + + * * * * * + +Jim Priest had an idea. When the guests were all assembled and when the +farm kitchen was filled with cooks and waiters who stumbled over each +other, he took his idea to Tom. There was, he explained, a short-cut +through fields and along lanes to a point on the county seat road, three +miles from the house. "I'll go there and hide myself," he said. "When they +come along, suspecting nothing, I'll cut out on horseback and get here a +half hour before them. You make every one in the house hide and keep still +when they drive into the yard. We'll put out all the lights. We'll give +that pair the surprise of their lives." + +Jim had concealed a quart bottle of wine in his pocket and, as he rode away +on his mission, stopped from time to time to take a hearty drink. As his +horse trotted along lanes and through fields, the horse that was bringing +Clara and Hugh home from their adventure cocked his ears and remembered +the comfortable stall filled with hay in the Butterworth barn. The horse +trotted swiftly along and Hugh in the buggy beside Clara was lost in the +same dense silence that all the evening had lain over him like a cloak. In +a dim way he was resentful and felt that time was running too fast. The +hours and the passing events were like the waters of a river in flood time, +and he was like a man in a boat without oars, being carried helplessly +forward. Occasionally he thought courage had come to him and he half turned +toward Clara and opened his mouth, hoping words would come to his lips, but +the silence that had taken hold of him was like a disease whose grip on +its victim could not be broken. He closed his mouth and wet his lips with +his tongue. Clara saw him do the thing several times. He began to seem +animal-like and ugly to her. "It's not true that I thought of her and asked +her to be my wife only because I wanted a woman," Hugh reassured himself. +"I've been lonely, all my life I've been lonely. I want to find my way into +some one's heart, and she is the one." + +Clara also remained silent. She was angry. "If he didn't want to marry me, +why did he ask me? Why did he come?" she asked herself. "Well, I'm married. +I've done the thing we women are always thinking about," she told herself, +her mind taking another turn. The thought frightened her and a shiver of +dread ran over her body. Then her mind went to the defense of Hugh. "It +isn't his fault. I shouldn't have rushed things as I have. Perhaps I'm not +meant for marriage at all," she thought. + +The ride homeward dragged on indefinitely. The clouds were blown out of +the sky, the moon came out and the stars looked down on the two perplexed +people. To relieve the feeling of tenseness that had taken hold of her +Clara's mind resorted to a trick. Her eyes sought out a tree or the lights +of a farmhouse far ahead and she tried to count the hoof beats of the horse +until they had come to it. She wanted to hurry homeward and at the same +time looked forward with dread to the night alone in the dark farmhouse +with Hugh. Not once during the homeward drive did she take the whip out of +its socket or speak to the horse. + +When at last the horse trotted eagerly across the crest of the hill, from +which there was such a magnificent view of the country below, neither Clara +nor Hugh turned to look. With bowed heads they rode, each trying to find +courage to face the possibilities of the night. + + * * * * * + +In the farmhouse Tom and his guests waited in winelit suspense, and at +last Jim Priest rode shouting out of a lane to the door. "They're coming-- +they're coming," he shouted, and ten minutes later and after Tom had twice +lost his temper and cursed the girl waitresses from the town hotels who +were inclined to giggle, all was silent and dark about the house and the +barnyard. When all was quiet Jim Priest crept into the kitchen, and +stumbling over the legs of the guests, made his way to a front window where +he placed a lighted candle. Then he went out of the house to lie on his +back beneath a bush in the yard. In the house he had secured for himself a +second bottle of wine, and as Clara with her husband turned in at the gate +and drove into the barnyard, the only sound that broke the intense silence +came from the soft gurgle of the wine finding its way down his throat. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +As in most older American homes, the kitchen at the rear of the Butterworth +farmhouse was large and comfortable. Much of the life of the house had been +led there. Clara sat in a deep window that looked out across a little gully +where in the spring a small stream ran down along the edge of the barnyard. +She was then a quiet child and loved to sit for hours unobserved and +undisturbed. At her back was the kitchen with the warm, rich smells and the +soft, quick, persistent footsteps of her mother. Her eyes closed and she +slept. Then she awoke. Before her lay a world into which her fancy could +creep out. Across the stream before her eyes went a small, wooden bridge +and over this in the spring horses went away to the fields or to sheds +where they were hitched to milk or ice wagons. The sound of the hoofs of +the horses pounding on the bridge was like thunder, harnesses rattled, +voices shouted. Beyond the bridge was a path leading off to the left and +along the path were three small houses where hams were smoked. Men came +from the wagon sheds bearing the meat on their shoulders and went into the +little houses. Fires were lighted and smoke crawled lazily up through the +roofs. In a field that lay beyond the smoke houses a man came to plow. The +child, curled into a little, warm ball in the window seat, was happy. When +she closed her eyes fancies came like flocks of white sheep running out of +a green wood. Although she was later to become a tomboy and run wild over +the farm and through the barns, and although all her life she loved the +soil and the sense of things growing and of food for hungry mouths being +prepared, there was in her, even as a child, a hunger for the life of the +spirit. In her dreams women, beautifully gowned and with rings on their +hands, came to brush the wet, matted hair back from her forehead. Across +the little wooden bridge before her eyes came wonderful men, women, and +children. The children ran forward. They cried out to her. She thought of +them as brothers and sisters who were to come to live in the farmhouse and +who were to make the old house ring with laughter. The children ran toward +her with outstretched hands, but never arrived at the house. The bridge +extended itself. It stretched out under their feet so that they ran forward +forever on the bridge. + +And behind the children came men and women, sometimes together, sometimes +walking alone. They did not seem like the children to belong to her. Like +the women who came to touch her hot forehead, they were beautifully gowned +and walked with stately dignity. + +The child climbed out of the window and stood on the kitchen floor. Her +mother hurried about. She was feverishly active and often did not hear when +the child spoke. "I want to know about my brothers and sisters: where are +they, why don't they come here?" she asked, but the mother did not hear, +and if she did, had nothing to say. Sometimes she stopped to kiss the child +and tears came to her eyes. Then something cooking on the kitchen stove +demanded attention. "You run outside," she said hurriedly, and turned again +to her work. + + * * * * * + +From the chair where Clara sat at the wedding feast provided by the energy +of her father and the enthusiasm of Jim Priest, she could see over her +father's shoulder into the farm house kitchen. As when she was a child, she +closed her eyes and dreamed of another kind of feast. With a growing sense +of bitterness she realized that all her life, all through her girlhood and +young womanhood, she had been waiting for this, her wedding night, and +that now, having come, the occasion for which she had waited so long and +concerning which she had dreamed so many dreams, had aborted into an +occasion for the display of ugliness and vulgarity. Her father, the only +other person in the room in any way related to her, sat at the other end +of the long table. Her aunt had gone away on a visit, and in the crowded, +noisy room there was no woman to whom she could turn for understanding. +She looked past her father's shoulder and directly into the wide window +seat where she had spent so many hours of her childhood. Again she wanted +brothers and sisters. "The beautiful men and women of the dreams were meant +to come at this time, that's what the dreams were about; but, like the +unborn children that ran with outstretched hands, they cannot get over the +bridge and into the house," she thought vaguely. "I wish Mother had lived, +or that Kate Chanceller were here," she whispered to herself as, raising +her eyes, she looked at her father. + +Clara felt like an animal driven into a corner and surrounded by foes. +Her father sat at the feast between two women, Mrs. Steve Hunter who was +inclined to corpulency, and a thin woman named Bowles, the wife of an +undertaker of Bidwell. They continually whispered, smiled, and nodded their +heads. Hugh sat on the opposite side of the same table, and when he raised +his eyes from the plate of food before him, could see past the head of a +large, masculine-looking woman into the farmhouse parlor where there was +another table, also filled with guests. Clara turned from looking at her +father to look at her husband. He was merely a tall man with a long face, +who could not raise his eyes. His long neck stuck itself out of a stiff +white collar. To Clara he was, at the moment, a being without personality, +one that the crowd at the table had swallowed up as it so busily swallowed +food and wine. When she looked at him he seemed to be drinking a good deal. +His glass was always being filled and emptied. At the suggestion of the +woman who sat beside him, he performed the task of emptying it, without +raising his eyes, and Steve Hunter, who sat on the other side of the table, +leaned over and filled it again. Steve like her father whispered and +winked. "On the night of my wedding I was piped, you bet, as piped as a +hatter. It's a good thing. It gives a man nerve," he explained to the +masculine-looking woman to whom he was telling, with a good deal of +attention to details, the tale of his own marriage night. + +Clara did not look at Hugh again. What he did seemed no concern of hers. +Bowles the Bidwell undertaker had surrendered to the influence of the wine +that had been flowing freely since the guests arrived and now got to his +feet and began to talk. His wife tugged at his coat and tried to force him +back into his seat, but Tom Butterworth jerked her arm away. "Ah, let him +alone. He's got a story to tell," he said to the woman, who blushed and +put her handkerchief over her face. "Well, it's a fact, that's how it +happened," the undertaker declared in a loud voice. "You see the sleeves +of her nightgown were tied in hard knots by her rascally brothers. When I +tried to unfasten them with my teeth I bit big holes in the sleeves." + +Clara gripped the arm of her chair. "If I can let the night pass without +showing these people how much I hate them I'll do well enough," she thought +grimly. She looked at the dishes laden with food and wished she could break +them one by one over the heads of her father's guests. As a relief to her +mind, she again looked past her father's head and through a doorway into +the kitchen. + +In the big room three or four cooks were busily engaged in the preparation +of food, and waitresses continually brought steaming dishes and put them on +the tables. She thought of her mother's life, the life led in that room, +married to the man who was her own father and who no doubt, but for the +fact that circumstances had made him a man of wealth, would have been +satisfied to see his daughter led into just such another life. + +"Kate was right about men. They want something from women, but what do they +care what kind of lives we lead after they get what they want?" she thought +grimly. + +The more to separate herself from the feasting, laughing crowd, Clara +tried to think out the details of her mother's life. "It was the life of +a beast," she thought. Like herself, her mother had come to the house +with her husband on the night of her marriage. There was just such +another feast. The country was new then and the people for the most part +desperately poor. Still there was drinking. She had heard her father and +Jim Priest speak of the drinking bouts of their youth. The men came as they +had come now, and with them came women, women who had been coarsened by the +life they led. Pigs were killed and game brought from the forests. The men +drank, shouted, fought, and played practical jokes. Clara wondered if any +of the men and women in the room would dare go upstairs into her sleeping +room and tie knots in her night clothes. They had done that when her mother +came to the house as a bride. Then they had all gone away and her father +had taken his bride upstairs. He was drunk, and her own husband Hugh was +now getting drunk. Her mother had submitted. Her life had been a story of +submission. Kate Chanceller had said it was so married women lived, and +her mother's life had proven the truth of the statement. In the farmhouse +kitchen, where now three or four cooks worked so busily, she had worked her +life out alone. From the kitchen she had gone directly upstairs and to bed +with her husband. Once a week on Saturday afternoons she went into town and +stayed long enough to buy supplies for another week of cooking. "She must +have been kept going until she dropped down dead," Clara thought, and her +mind taking another turn, added, "and many others, both men and women, must +have been forced by circumstances to serve my father in the same blind way. +It was all done in order that prosperity and money with which to do vulgar +things might be his." + +Clara's mother had brought but one child into the world. She wondered why. +Then she wondered if she would become the mother of a child. Her hands no +longer gripped the arms of her chair, but lay on the table before her. She +looked at them and they were strong. She was herself a strong woman. After +the feast was over and the guests had gone away, Hugh, given courage by the +drinks he continued to consume, would come upstairs to her. Some twist of +her mind made her forget her husband, and in fancy she felt herself about +to be attacked by a strange man on a dark road at the edge of a forest. The +man had tried to take her into his arms and kiss her and she had managed to +get her hands on his throat. Her hands lying on the table twitched +convulsively. + +In the big farmhouse dining-room and in the parlor where the second table +of guests sat, the wedding feast went on. Afterward when she thought of it, +Clara always remembered her wedding feast as a horsey affair. Something +in the natures of Tom Butterworth and Jim Priest, she thought, expressed +itself that night. The jokes that went up and down the table were horsey, +and Clara thought the women who sat at the tables heavy and mare-like. + +Jim did not come to the table to sit with the others, was in fact not +invited, but all evening he kept appearing and reappearing and had the air +of a master of ceremonies. Coming into the dining room he stood by the +door, scratching his head. Then he went out. It was as though he had +said to himself, "Well, it's all right, everything is going all right, +everything is lively, you see." All his life Jim had been a drinker of +whisky and knew his limitations. His system as a drinking man had always +been quite simple. On Saturday afternoons, when the work about the barns +was done for the day and the other employees had gone away, he went to sit +on the steps of a corncrib with the bottle in his hand. In the winter he +went to sit by the kitchen fire in a little house below the apple orchard +where he and the other employees slept. He took a long drink from the +bottle and then holding it in his hand sat for a time thinking of the +events of his life. Whisky made him somewhat sentimental. After one long +drink he thought of his youth in a town in Pennsylvania. He had been one +of six children, all boys, and at an early age his mother had died. Jim +thought of her and then of his father. When he had himself come west into +Ohio, and later when he was a soldier in the Civil War, he despised his +father and reverenced the memory of his mother. In the war he had found +himself physically unable to stand up before the enemy during a battle. +When the report of guns was heard and the other men of his company got +grimly into line and went forward, something happened to his legs and he +wanted to run away. So great was the desire in him that craftiness grew in +his brain. Watching his chance, he pretended to have been shot and fell to +the ground, and when the others had gone on crept away and hid himself. He +found it was not impossible to disappear altogether and reappear in another +place. The draft went into effect and many men not liking the notion of war +were willing to pay large sums to the men who would go in their places. +Jim went into the business of enlisting and deserting. All about him were +men talking of the necessity of saving the country, and for four years he +thought only of saving his own hide. Then suddenly the war was over and he +became a farm hand. As he worked all week in the fields, and in the evening +sometimes, as he lay in his bed and the moon came up, he thought of his +mother and of the nobility and sacrifice of her life. He wished to be such +another. After having two or three drinks out of the bottle, he admired his +father, who in the Pennsylvania town had borne the reputation of being a +liar and a rascal. After his mother's death his father had managed to marry +a widow who owned a farm. "The old man was a slick one," he said aloud, +tipping up the bottle and taking another long drink. "If I had stayed at +home until I got more understanding, the old man and I together might have +done something." He finished the bottle and went away to sleep on the hay, +or if it were winter, threw himself into one of the bunks in the bunk +house. He dreamed of becoming one who went through life beating people out +of money, living by his wits, getting the best of every one. + +Until the night of Clara's wedding Jim had never tasted wine, and as it did +not bring on a desire for sleep, he thought himself unaffected. "It's like +sweetened water," he said, going into the darkness of the barnyard and +emptying another half bottle down his throat. "The stuff has no kick. +Drinking it is like drinking sweet cider." + +Jim got into a frolicsome mood and went through the crowded kitchen and +into the dining room where the guests were assembled. At the moment the +rather riotous laughter and story telling had ceased and everything was +quiet. He was worried. "Things aren't going well. Clara's party is becoming +a frost," he thought resentfully. He began to dance a heavy-footed jig on +a little open place by the kitchen door and the guests stopped talking +to watch. They shouted and clapped their hands. A thunder of applause +arose. The guests who were seated in the parlor and who could not see the +performance got up and crowded into the doorway that connected the two +rooms. Jim became extraordinarily bold, and as one of the young women Tom +had hired as waitresses at that moment went past bearing a large dish of +food, he swung himself quickly about and took her into his arms. The dish +flew across the floor and broke against a table leg and the young woman +screamed. A farm dog that had found its way into the kitchen rushed into +the room and barked loudly. Henry Heller's orchestra, concealed under a +stairway that led to the upper part of the house, began to play furiously. +A strange animal fervor swept over Jim. His legs flew rapidly about and +his heavy feet made a great clatter on the floor. The young woman in his +arms screamed and laughed. Jim closed his eyes and shouted. He felt that +the wedding party had until that moment been a failure and that he was +transforming it into a success. Rising to their feet the men shouted, +clapped their hands and beat with their fists on the table. When the +orchestra came to the end of the dance, Jim stood flushed and triumphant +before the guests, holding the woman in his arms. In spite of her struggles +he held her tightly against his breast and kissed her eyes, cheeks, and +mouth. Then releasing her he winked and made a gesture for silence. "On a +wedding night some one's got to have the nerve to do a little love-making," +he said, looking pointedly toward the place where Hugh sat with head bent +and with his eyes staring at a glass of wine that sat at his elbow. + + * * * * * + +It was past two o'clock when the feast came to an end. When the guests +began to depart, Clara stood for a moment alone and tried to get herself +in hand. Something inside her felt cold and old. If she had often thought +she wanted a man, and that life as a married woman would put an end to +her problems, she did not think so at that moment. "What I want above +everything else is a woman," she thought. All the evening her mind had been +trying to clutch and hold the almost forgotten figure of her mother, but it +was too vague and shadowy. With her mother she had never walked and talked +late at night through streets of towns when the world was asleep and when +thoughts were born in herself. "After all," she thought, "Mother may also +have belonged to all this." She looked at the people preparing to depart. +Several men had gathered in a group by the door. One of them told a story +at which the others laughed loudly. The women standing about had flushed +and, Clara thought, coarse faces. "They have gone into marriage like +cattle," she told herself. Her mind, running out of the room, began to +caress the memory of her one woman friend, Kate Chanceller. Often on late +spring afternoons as she and Kate had walked together something very like +love-making had happened between them. They went along quietly and evening +came on. Suddenly they stopped in the street and Kate had put her arms +about Clara's shoulders. For a moment they stood thus close together and a +strange gentle and yet hungry look came into Kate's eyes. It only lasted +a moment and when it happened both women were somewhat embarrassed. Kate +laughed and taking hold of Clara's arm pulled her along the sidewalk. +"Let's walk like the devil," she said, "come on, let's get up some speed." + +Clara put her hands to her eyes as though to shut out the scene in the +room. "If I could have been with Kate this evening I could have come to a +man believing in the possible sweetness of marriage," she thought. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +Jim Priest was very drunk, but insisted on hitching a team to the +Butterworth carriage and driving it loaded with guests to town. Every one +laughed at him, but he drove up to the farmhouse door and in a loud voice +declared he knew what he was doing. Three men got into the carriage and +beating the horses furiously Jim sent them galloping away. + +When an opportunity offered, Clara went silently out of the hot dining-room +and through a door to a porch at the back of the house. The kitchen door +was open and the waitresses and cooks from town were preparing to depart. +One of the young women came out into the darkness accompanied by a man, +evidently one of the guests. They had both been drinking and stood for a +moment in the darkness with their bodies pressed together. "I wish it were +our wedding night," the man's voice whispered, and the woman laughed. After +a long kiss they went back into the kitchen. + +A farm dog appeared and going up to Clara licked her hand. She went around +the house and stood back of a bush in the darkness near where the carriages +were being loaded. Her father with Steve Hunter and his wife came and got +into a carriage. Tom was in an expansive, generous mood. "You know, Steve, +I told you and several others my Clara was engaged to Alfred Buckley," he +said. "Well, I was mistaken. The whole thing was a lie. The truth is I shot +off my mouth without talking to Clara. I had seen them together and now and +then Buckley used to come out here to the house in the evening, although he +never came except when I was here. He told me Clara had promised to marry +him, and like a fool I took his word. I never even asked. That's the kind +of a fool I was and I was a bigger fool to go telling the story. All the +time Clara and Hugh were engaged and I never suspected. They told me about +it to-night." + +Clara stood by the bush until she thought the last of the guests had gone. +The lie her father had told seemed only a part of the evening's vulgarity. +Near the kitchen door the waitresses, cooks and musicians were being loaded +into the bus that had been driven out from the Bidwell House. She went into +the dining-room. Sadness had taken the place of the anger in her, but when +she saw Hugh the anger came back. Piles of dishes filled with food lay all +about the room and the air was heavy with the smell of food. Hugh stood by +a window looking out into the dark farmyard. He held his hat in his hand. +"You might put your hat away," she said sharply. "Have you forgotten you're +married to me and that you now live here in this house?" She laughed +nervously and walked to the kitchen door. + +Her mind still clung to the past and to the days when she was a child and +had spent so many hours in the big, silent kitchen. Something was about +to happen that would take her past away--destroy it, and the thought +frightened her. "I have not been very happy in this house but there have +been certain moments, certain feelings I've had," she thought. Stepping +through the doorway she stood for a moment in the kitchen with her back +to the wall and with her eyes closed. Through her mind went a troop of +figures, the stout determined figure of Kate Chanceller who had known +how to love in silence; the wavering, hurrying figure of her mother; her +father as a young man coming in after a long drive to warm his hands +by the kitchen fire; a strong, hard-faced woman from town who had once +worked for Tom as cook and who was reported to have been the mother of two +illegitimate children; and the figures of her childhood fancy walking over +the bridge toward her, clad in beautiful raiment. + +Back of these figures were other figures, long forgotten but now sharply +remembered--farm girls who had come to work by the day; tramps who had been +fed at the kitchen door; young farm hands who suddenly disappeared from the +routine of the farm's life and were never seen again, a young man with a +red bandana handkerchief about his neck who had thrown her a kiss as she +stood with her face pressed against a window. + +Once a high school girl from town had come to spend the night with Clara. +After the evening meal the two girls walked into the kitchen and stood by a +window, looking out. Something had happened within them. Moved by a common +impulse they went outside and walked for a long way under the stars along +the silent country roads. They came to a field where men were burning +brush. Where there had been a forest there was now only a stump field and +the figures of the men carrying armloads of the dry branches of trees and +throwing them on the fire. The fire made a great splash of color in the +gathering darkness and for some obscure reason both girls were deeply moved +by the sight, sound, and perfume of the night. The figures of the men +seemed to dance back and forth in the light. Instinctively Clara turned her +face upward and looked at the stars. She was conscious of them and of their +beauty and the wide sweeping beauty of night as she had never been before. +A wind began to sing in the trees of a distant forest, dimly seen far away +across fields. The sound was soft and insistent and crept into her soul. In +the grass at her feet insects sang an accompaniment to the soft, distant +music. + +How vividly Clara now remembered that night! It came sharply back as she +stood with closed eyes in the farm kitchen and waited for the consummation +of the adventure on which she had set out. With it came other memories. +"How many fleeting dreams and half visions of beauty I have had!" she +thought. + +Everything in life that she had thought might in some way lead toward +beauty now seemed to Clara to lead to ugliness. "What a lot I've missed," +she muttered, and opening her eyes went back into the dining-room and spoke +to Hugh, still standing and staring out into the darkness. + +"Come," she said sharply, and led the way up a stairway. The two went +silently up the stairs, leaving the lights burning brightly in the rooms +below. They came to a door leading to a bedroom, and Clara opened it. "It's +time for a man and his wife to go to bed," she said in a low, husky voice. +Hugh followed her into the room. He walked to a chair by a window and +sitting down, took off his shoes and sat holding them in his hand. He did +not look at Clara but into the darkness outside the window. Clara let down +her hair and began to unfasten her dress. She took off an outer dress and +threw it over a chair. Then she went to a drawer and pulling it out looked +for a night dress. She became angry and threw several garments on the +floor. "Damn!" she said explosively, and went out of the room. + +Hugh sprang to his feet. The wine he had drunk had not taken effect and +Steve Hunter had been forced to go home disappointed. All the evening +something stronger than wine had been gripping him. Now he knew what it +was. All through the evening thoughts and desires had whirled through his +brain. Now they were all gone. "I won't let her do it," he muttered, and +running quickly to the door closed it softly. With the shoes still held +in his hand he crawled through a window. He had expected to leap into the +darkness, but by chance his stocking feet alighted on the roof of the farm +kitchen that extended out from the rear of the house. He ran quickly down +the roof and jumped, alighting in a clump of bushes that tore long +scratches on his cheeks. + +For five minutes Hugh ran toward the town of Bidwell, then turned, and +climbing a fence, walked across a field. The shoes were still gripped +tightly in his hand and the field was stony, but he did not notice and was +unconscious of pain from his bruised feet or from the torn places on his +cheeks. Standing in the field he heard Jim Priest drive homeward along the +road. + + "My bonny lies over the ocean, + My bonny lies over the sea, + My bonny lies over the ocean, + O, bring back my bonny to me." + +sang the farm hand. + +Hugh walked across several fields, and when he came to a small stream, +sat down on the bank and put on his shoes. "I've had my chance and missed +it," he thought bitterly. Several times he repeated the words. "I've had +my chance and I've missed," he said again as he stopped by a fence that +separated the fields in which he had been walking. At the words he stopped +and put his hand to his throat. A half-stifled sob broke from him. "I've +had my chance and missed," he said again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +On the day after the feast managed by Tom and Jim, it was Tom who brought +Hugh back to live with his wife. The older man had come to the farmhouse on +the next morning bringing three women from town who were, as he explained +to Clara, to clear away the mess left by the guests. The daughter had been +deeply touched by what Hugh had done, and at the moment loved him deeply, +but did not choose to let her father know how she felt. "I suppose you got +him drunk, you and your friends," she said. "At any rate, he's not here." + +Tom said nothing, but when Clara had told the story of Hugh's +disappearance, drove quickly away. "He'll come to the shop," he thought and +went there, leaving his horse tied to a post in front. At two o'clock his +son-in-law came slowly over the Turner's Pike bridge and approached the +shop. He was hatless and his clothes and hair were covered with dust, while +in his eyes was the look of a hunted animal. Tom met him with a smile and +asked no questions. "Come," he said, and taking Hugh by the arm led him to +the buggy. As he untied the horse he stopped to light a cigar. "I'm going +down to one of my lower farms. Clara thought you would like to go with me," +he said blandly. + +Tom drove to the McCoy house and stopped. + +"You'd better clean up a little," he said without looking at Hugh. "You go +in and shave and change your clothes. I'm going up-town. I got to go to a +store." + +Driving a short distance along the road, Tom stopped and shouted. "You +might pack your grip and bring it along," he called. "You'll be needing +your things. We won't be back here to-day." + +The two men stayed together all that day, and in the evening Tom took Hugh +to the farmhouse and stayed for the evening meal. "He was a little drunk," +he explained to Clara. "Don't be hard on him. He was a little drunk." + +For both Clara and Hugh that evening was the hardest of their lives. After +the servants had gone, Clara sat under a lamp in the dining-room and +pretended to read a book and in desperation Hugh also tried to read. + +Again the time came to go upstairs to the bedroom, and again Clara led the +way. She went to the door of the room from which Hugh had fled and opening +it stepped aside. Then she put out her hand. "Good-night," she said, and +going down a hallway went into another room and closed the door. + +Hugh's experience with the school teacher was repeated on that second night +in the farmhouse. He took off his shoes and prepared for bed. Then he crept +out into the hallway and went softly to the door of Clara's room. Several +times he made the journey along the carpeted hallway, and once his hand was +on the knob of the door, but each time he lost heart and returned to his +own room. Although he did not know it Clara, like Rose McCoy on that other +occasion, expected him to come to her, and knelt on the floor just inside +the door, waiting, hoping for, and fearing the coming of the man. + +Unlike the school teacher, Clara wanted to help Hugh. Marriage had perhaps +given her that impulse, but she did not follow it, and when at last Hugh, +shaken and ashamed, gave up the struggle with himself, she arose and went +to her bed where she threw herself down and wept, as Hugh had wept standing +in the darkness of the fields on the night before. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +It was a hot, dusty day, a week after Hugh's marriage to Clara, and Hugh +was at work in his shop at Bidwell. How many days, weeks, and months he +had already worked there, thinking in iron--twisted, turned, tortured to +follow the twistings and turnings of his mind--standing all day by a bench +beside other workmen--before him always the little piles of wheels, strips +of unworked iron and steel, blocks of wood, the paraphernalia of the +inventor's trade. Beside him, now that money had come to him, more and more +workmen, men who had invented nothing, who were without distinction in the +life of the community, who had married no rich man's daughter. + +In the morning the other workmen, skillful fellows, who knew as Hugh had +never known, the science of their iron craft, came straggling through the +shop door into his presence. They were a little embarrassed before him. The +greatness of his name rang in their minds. + +Many of the workmen were husbands, fathers of families. In the morning they +left their houses gladly but nevertheless came somewhat reluctantly to +the shop. As they came along the street, past other houses, they smoked +a morning pipe. Groups were formed. Many legs straggled along the street. +At the door of the shop each man stopped. There was a sharp tapping sound. +Pipe bowls were knocked out against the door sill. Before he came into the +shop, each man looked out across the open country that stretched away to +the north. + +For a week Hugh had been married to a woman who had not yet become his +wife. She belonged, still belonged, to a world he had thought of as outside +the possibilities of his life. Was she not young, strong, straight of body? +Did she not array herself in what seemed unbelievably beautiful clothes? +The clothes she wore were a symbol of herself. For him she was +unattainable. + +And yet she had consented to become his wife, had stood with him before a +man who had said words about honor and obedience. + +Then there had come the two terrible evenings--when he had gone back +to the farmhouse with her to find the wedding feast set in their honor, +and that other evening when old Tom had brought him to the farmhouse a +defeated, frightened man who hoped the woman would put out her hand, would +reassure him. + +Hugh was sure he had missed the great opportunity of his life. He had +married, but his marriage was not a marriage. He had got himself into a +position from which there was no possibility of escaping. "I'm a coward," +he thought, looking at the other workmen in the shop. They, like himself, +were married men and lived in a house with a woman. At night they went +boldly into the presence of the woman. He had not done that when the +opportunity offered, and Clara could not come to him. He could understand +that. His hands had builded a wall and the passing days were huge stones +put on top of the wall. What he had not done became every day a more and +more impossible thing to do. + +Tom, having taken Hugh back to Clara, was still concerned over the outcome +of their adventure. Every day he came to the shop and in the evening came +to see them at the farmhouse. He hovered about, was like a mother bird +whose offspring had been prematurely pushed out of the nest. Every morning +he came into the shop to talk with Hugh. He made jokes about married life. +Winking at a man standing nearby he put his hand familiarly on Hugh's +shoulder. "Well, how does married life go? It seems to me you're a little +pale," he said laughing. + +In the evening he came to the farmhouse and sat talking of his affairs, of +the progress and growth of the town and his part in it. Without hearing his +words both Clara and Hugh sat in silence, pretending to listen, glad of his +presence. + +Hugh came to the shop at eight. On other mornings, all through that long +week of waiting, Clara had driven him to his work, the two riding in +silence down Medina Road and through the crowded streets of the town; but +on that morning he had walked. + +On Medina Road, near the bridge where he had once stood with Clara and +where he had seen her hot with anger, something had happened, a trivial +thing. A male bird pursued a female among the bushes beside the road. The +two feathered, living creatures, vividly colored, alive with life, pitched +and swooped through the air. They were like moving balls of light going in +and out of the dark green of foliage. There was in them a madness, a riot +of life. + +Hugh had been tricked into stopping by the roadside. A tangle of things +that had filled his mind, the wheels, cogs, levers, all the intricate parts +of the hay-loading machine, the things that lived in his mind until his +hand had made them into facts, were blown away like dust. For a moment he +watched the living riotous things and then, as though jerking himself back +into a path from which his feet had wandered, hurried onward to the shop, +looking as he went not into the branches of trees, but downward at the dust +of the road. + +In the shop Hugh tried all morning to refurnish the warehouse of his mind, +to put back into it the things blown so recklessly away. At ten Tom came +in, talked for a moment and then flitted away. "You are still there. My +daughter still has you. You have not run away again," he seemed to be +saying to himself. + +The day grew warm and the sky, seen through the shop window by the bench +where Hugh tried to work, was overcast with clouds. + +At noon the workmen went away, but Clara, who on other days had come to +drive Hugh to the farmhouse for lunch, did not appear. When all was silent +in the shop he stopped work, washed his hands and put on his coat. + +He went to the shop door and then came back to the bench. Before him lay +an iron wheel on which he had been at work. It was intended to drive some +intricate part of the hay-loading machine. Hugh took it in his hand and +carried it to the back of the shop where there was an anvil. Without +consciousness and scarcely realizing what he did he laid it on the anvil +and taking a great sledge in his hand swung it over his head. + +The blow struck was terrific. Into it Hugh put all of his protest against +the grotesque position into which he had been thrown by his marriage to +Clara. + +The blow accomplished nothing. The sledge descended and the comparatively +delicate metal wheel was twisted, knocked out of shape. It spurted from +under the head of the sledge and shot past Hugh's head and out through a +window, breaking a pane of glass. Fragments of the broken glass fell with a +sharp little tinkling sound upon a heap of twisted pieces of iron and steel +lying beside the anvil.... + +Hugh did not eat lunch that day nor did he go to the farmhouse or return to +work at the shop. He walked, but this time did not walk in country roads +where male and female birds dart in and out of bushes. An intense desire to +know something intimate and personal concerning men and women and the lives +they led in their houses had taken possession of him. He walked in the +daylight up and down in the streets of Bidwell. + +To the right, over the bridge leading out of Turner's Road, the main street +of Bidwell ran along a river bank. In that direction the hills out of the +country to the south came down to the river's edge and there was a high +bluff. On the bluff and back of it on a sloping hillside many of the more +pretentious new houses of the prosperous Bidwell citizens had been built. +Facing the river were the largest houses, with grounds in which trees and +shrubs had been planted and in the streets along the hill, less and less +pretentious as they receded from the river, were other houses built and +being built, long rows of houses, long streets of houses, houses in brick, +stone, and wood. + +Hugh went from the river front back into this maze of streets and houses. +Some instinct led him there. It was where the men and women of Bidwell who +had prospered and had married went to live, to make themselves houses. His +father-in-law had offered to buy him a river front place and already that +meant much in Bidwell. + +He wanted to see women who, like Clara, had got themselves husbands, what +they were like. "I've seen enough of men," he thought half resentfully as +he went along. + +All afternoon he walked in streets, going up and down before houses in +which women lived with their men. A detached mood had possession of him. +For an hour he stood under a tree idly watching workmen engaged in building +another house. When one of the workmen spoke to him he walked away and went +into a street where men were laying a cement pavement before a completed +house. + +In a furtive way he kept looking about for women, hungering to see their +faces. "What are they up to? I'd like to find out," his mind seemed to be +saying. + +The women came out of the doors of the houses and passed him as he went +slowly along. Other women in carriages drove in the streets. They were +well-dressed women and seemed sure of themselves. "Things are all right +with me. For me things are settled and arranged," they seemed to say. All +the streets in which he walked seemed to be telling the story of things +settled and arranged. The houses spoke of the same things. "I am a house. +I am not built until things are settled and arranged. I mean that," they +said. + +Hugh grew very tired. In the later afternoon a small bright-eyed woman--no +doubt she had been one of the guests at his wedding feast--stopped him. +"Are you planning to buy or build up our way, Mr. McVey?" she asked. He +shook his head. "I'm looking around," he said and hurried away. + +Anger took the place of perplexity in him. The women he saw in the streets +and in the doors of the houses were such women as his own woman Clara. They +had married men--"no better than myself," he told himself, growing bold. + +They had married men and something had happened to them. Something was +settled. They could live in streets and in houses. Their marriages had been +real marriages and he had a right to a real marriage. It was not too much +to expect out of life. + +"Clara has a right to that also," he thought and his mind began to idealize +the marriages of men and women. "On every hand here I see them, the neat, +well-dressed, handsome women like Clara. How happy they are! + +"Their feathers have been ruffled though," he thought angrily. "It was with +them as with that bird I saw being pursued through the trees. There has +been pursuit and a pretense of trying to escape. There has been an effort +made that was not an effort, but feathers have been ruffled here." + +When his thoughts had driven him into a half desperate mood Hugh went +out of the streets of bright, ugly, freshly built, freshly painted and +furnished houses, and down into the town. Several men homeward bound at the +end of their day of work called to him. "I hope you are thinking of buying +or building up our way," they said heartily. + + * * * * * + +It began to rain and darkness came, but Hugh did not go home to Clara. It +did not seem to him that he could spend another night in the house with +her, lying awake, hearing the little noises of the night, waiting--for +courage. He could not sit under the lamp through another evening pretending +to read. He could not go with Clara up the stairs only to leave her with a +cold "good-night" at the top of the stairs. + +Hugh went up the Medina Road almost to the house and then retraced his +steps and got into a field. There was a low swampy place in which the +water came up over his shoetops, and after he had crossed that there was +a field overgrown with a tangle of vines. The night became so dark that +he could see nothing and darkness reigned over his spirit. For hours he +walked blindly, but it did not occur to him that as he waited, hating the +waiting, Clara also waited; that for her also it was a time of trial and +uncertainty. To him it seemed her course was simple and easy. She was a +white pure thing--waiting--for what? for courage to come in to him in order +that an assault be made upon her whiteness and purity. + +That was the only answer to the question Hugh could find within himself. +The destruction of what was white and pure was a necessary thing in life. +It was a thing men must do in order that life go on. As for women, they +must be white and pure--and wait. + + * * * * * + +Filled with inward resentment Hugh at last did go to the farmhouse. Wet +and with dragging, heavy feet he turned out of the Medina Road to find the +house dark and apparently deserted. + +Then a new and puzzling situation arose. When he stepped over the threshold +and into the house he knew Clara was there. + +On that day she had not driven him to work in the morning or gone for him +at noon hour because she did not want to look at him in the light of day, +did not want again to see the puzzled, frightened look in his eyes. She had +wanted him in the darkness alone, had waited for darkness. Now it was dark +in the house and she waited for him. + +How simple it was! Hugh came into the living-room, stumbled forward into +the darkness, and found the hat-rack against the wall near the stairway +leading to the bedrooms above. Again he had surrendered what he would no +doubt have called the manhood in himself, and hoped only to be able to +escape the presence he felt in the room, to creep off upstairs to his bed, +to lie awake listening to noises, waiting miserably for another day to +come. But when he had put his dripping hat on one of the pegs of the rack +and had found the lower step with his foot thrust into darkness, a voice +called to him. + +"Come here, Hugh," Clara said softly and firmly, and like a boy caught +doing a forbidden act he went toward her. "We have been very silly, Hugh," +he heard her voice saying softly. + + * * * * * + +Hugh went to where Clara sat in a chair by a window. From him there was +no protest and no attempt to escape the love-making that followed. For a +moment he stood in silence and could see her white figure below him in the +chair. It was like something still far away, but coming swiftly as a bird +flies to him--upward to him. Her hand crept up and lay in his hand. It +seemed unbelievably large. It was not soft, but hard and firm. When her +hand had rested in his for a moment she arose and stood beside him. Then +the hand went out of his and touched, caressed his wet coat, his wet hair, +his cheeks. "My flesh must be white and cold," he thought, and then he did +not think any more. + +Gladness took hold of him, a gladness that came up out of the inner parts +of himself as she had come up to him out of the chair. For days, weeks, he +had been thinking of his problem as a man's problem, his defeat had been a +man's defeat. + +Now there was no defeat, no problem, no victory. In himself he did not +exist. Within himself something new had been born or another something that +had always lived with him had stirred to life. It was not awkward. It was +not afraid. It was a thing as swift and sure as the flight of the male bird +through the branches of trees and it was in pursuit of something light and +swift in her, something that would fly through light and darkness but fly +not too swiftly, something of which he need not be afraid, something that +without the need of understanding he could understand as one understands +the need of breath in a close place. + +With a laugh as soft and sure as her own Hugh took Clara into his arms. +A few minutes later they went up stairs and twice Hugh stumbled on the +stairway. It did not matter. His long awkward body was a thing outside +himself. It might stumble and fall many times but the new thing he had +found, the thing inside himself that responded to the thing inside the +shell that was Clara his wife, did not stumble. It flew like a bird out of +darkness into the light. At the moment he thought the sweeping flight of +life thus begun would run on forever. + + + + +BOOK SIX + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +It was a summer night in Ohio and the wheat in the long, flat fields that +stretched away to the north from the town of Bidwell was ripe for the +cutting. Between the wheat fields lay corn and cabbage fields. In the corn +fields the green stalks stood up like young trees. Facing the fields lay +the white roads, once the silent roads, hushed and empty through the nights +and often during many hours of the day, the night silence broken only at +long intervals by the clattering hoofs of homeward bound horses and the +silence of days by creaking wagons. Along the roads on a summer evening +went the young farm hand in his buggy for which he had spent a summer's +wage, a long summer of sweaty toil in hot fields. The hoofs of his horse +beat a soft tattoo on the roads. His sweetheart sat beside him and he was +in no hurry. All day he had been at work in the harvest and on the morrow +he would work again. It did not matter. For him the night would last until +the cocks in isolated farmyards began to hail the dawn. He forgot the horse +and did not care what turning he took. All roads led to happiness for him. + +Beside the long roads was an endless procession of fields broken now and +then by a strip of woodland, where the shadows of trees fell upon the +roads and made pools of an inky blackness. In the long, dry grass in fence +corners insects sang; in the young cabbage fields rabbits ran, flitting +away like shadows in the moonlight. The cabbage fields were beautiful too. + +Who has written or sung of the beauties of corn fields in Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, or of the vast Ohio cabbage fields? In the cabbage fields +the broad outer leaves fall down to make a background for the shifting, +delicate colors of soils. The leaves are themselves riotous with color. +As the season advances they change from light to dark greens, a thousand +shades of purples, blues and reds appear and disappear. + +In silence the cabbage fields slept beside the roads in Ohio. Not +yet had the motor cars come to tear along the roads, their flashing +lights--beautiful too, when seen by one afoot on the roads on a summer +night--had not yet made the roads an extension of the cities. Akron, the +terrible town, had not yet begun to roll forth its countless millions of +rubber hoops, filled each with its portion of God's air compressed and in +prison at last like the farm hands who have gone to the cities. Detroit and +Toledo had not begun to send forth their hundreds of thousands of motor +cars to shriek and scream the nights away on country roads. Willis was +still a mechanic in an Indiana town, and Ford still worked in a bicycle +repair shop in Detroit. + +It was a summer night in the Ohio country and the moon shone. A country +doctor's horse went at a humdrum pace along the roads. Softly and at long +intervals men afoot stumbled along. A farm hand whose horse was lame walked +toward town. An umbrella mender, benighted on the roads, hurried toward the +lights of the distant town. In Bidwell, the place that had been on other +summer nights a sleepy town filled with gossiping berry pickers, things +were astir. + +Change, and the thing men call growth, was in the air. Perhaps in its own +way revolution was in the air, the silent, the real revolution that grew +with the growth of the towns. In the stirring, bustling town of Bidwell +that quiet summer night something happened that startled men. Something +happened, and then in a few minutes it happened again. Heads wagged, +special editions of daily newspapers were printed, the great hive of men +was disturbed, under the invisible roof of the town that had so suddenly +become a city, the seeds of self-consciousness were planted in new soil, in +American soil. + +Before all this began, however, something else happened. The first motor +car ran through the streets of Bidwell and out upon the moonlit roads. The +motor car was driven by Tom Butterworth and in it sat his daughter Clara +with her husband Hugh McVey. During the week before, Tom had brought the +car from Cleveland, and the mechanic who rode with him had taught him the +art of driving. Now he drove alone and boldly. Early in the evening he had +run out to the farmhouse to take his daughter and son-in-law for their +first ride. Hugh sat in the seat beside him and after they had started and +were clear of the town, Tom turned to him. "Now watch me step on her tail," +he said proudly, using for the first time the motor slang he had picked up +from the Cleveland mechanic. + +As Tom sent the car hurling over the roads, Clara sat alone in the back +seat unimpressed by her father's new acquisition. For three years she +had been married and she felt that she did not yet know the man she had +married. Always the story had been the same, moments of light and then +darkness again. A new machine that went along roads at a startlingly +increased rate of speed might change the whole face of the world, as her +father declared it would, but it did not change certain facts of her life. +"Am I a failure as a wife, or is Hugh impossible as a husband?" she asked +herself for perhaps the thousandth time as the car, having got into a long +stretch of clear, straight road, seemed to leap and sail through the air +like a bird. "At any rate I have married me a husband and yet I have no +husband, I have been in a man's arms but I have no lover, I have taken hold +of life, but life has slipped through my fingers." + +Like her father, Hugh seemed to Clara absorbed in only the things outside +himself, the outer crust of life. He was like and yet unlike her father. +She was baffled by him. There was something in the man she wanted and could +not find. "The fault must be in me," she told herself. "He's all right, but +what's the matter with me?" + +After that night when he ran away from her bridal bed, Clara had more than +once thought the miracle had happened. It did sometimes. On that night when +he came to her out of the rain it had happened. There was a wall a blow +could shatter, and she raised her hand to strike the blow. The wall was +shattered and then builded itself again. Even as she lay at night in her +husband's arms the wall reared itself up in the darkness of the sleeping +room. + +Over the farmhouse on such nights dense silence brooded and she and Hugh, +as had become their habit together, were silent. In the darkness she put up +her hand to touch her husband's face and hair. He lay still and she had the +impression of some great force holding him back, holding her back. A sharp +sense of struggle filled the room. The air was heavy with it. + +When words came they did not break the silence. The wall remained. + +The words that came were empty, meaningless words. Hugh suddenly broke +forth into speech. He spoke of his work at the shop and of his progress +toward the solution of some difficult, mechanical problem. If it were +evening when the thing happened the two people got out of the lighted house +where they had been sitting together, each feeling darkness would help the +effort they were both making to tear away the wall. They walked along a +lane, past the barns and over the little wooden bridge across the stream +that ran down through the barnyard. Hugh did not want to talk of the work +at the shop, but could find words for no other talk. They came to a fence +where the lane turned and from where they could look down the hillside and +into the town. He did not look at Clara but stared down the hillside and +the words, in regard to the mechanical difficulties that had occupied his +mind all day, ran on and on. When later they went back to the house he felt +a little relieved. "I've said words. There is something achieved," he +thought. + + * * * * * + +And now after the three years as a married woman Clara sat in the motor +with her father and husband and with them was sent whirling swiftly through +the summer night. The car ran down the hill road from the Butterworth farm, +through a dozen residence streets in town and then out upon the long, +straight roads in the rich, flat country to the north. It had skirted +the town as a hungry wolf might have encircled silently and swiftly the +fire-lit camp of a hunter. To Clara the machine seemed like a wolf, bold +and cunning and yet afraid. Its great nose pushed through the troubled +air of the quiet roads, frightening horses, breaking the silence with its +persistent purring, drowning the song of insects. The headlights also +disturbed the slumbers of the night. They flashed into barnyards where +fowls slept on the lower branches of trees, played on the sides of barns +sent the cattle in fields galloping away into darkness, and frightened +horribly the wild things, the red squirrels and chipmunks that live in +wayside fences in the Ohio country. Clara hated the machine and began to +hate all machines. Thinking of machinery and the making of machines had, +she decided, been at the bottom of her husband's inability to talk with +her. Revolt against the whole mechanical impulse of her generation began to +take possession of her. + +And as she rode another and more terrible kind of revolt against the +machine began in the town of Bidwell. It began in fact before Tom with his +new motor left the Butterworth farm, it began before the summer moon came +up, before the gray mantle of night had been laid over the shoulders of the +hills south of the farmhouse. + +Jim Gibson, the journeyman harness maker who worked in Joe Wainsworth's +shop, was beside himself on that night. He had just won a great victory +over his employer and felt like celebrating. For several days he had been +telling the story of his anticipated victory in the saloons and store, and +now it had happened. After dining at his boarding-house he went to a saloon +and had a drink. Then he went to other saloons and had other drinks, after +which he swaggered through the streets to the door of the shop. Although +he was in his nature a spiritual bully, Jim did not lack energy, and his +employer's shop was filled with work demanding attention. For a week both +he and Joe had been returning to their work benches every evening. Jim +wanted to come because some driving influence within made him love the +thought of keeping the work always on the move, and Joe because Jim made +him come. + +Many things were on the move in the striving, hustling town on that +evening. The system of checking on piece work, introduced by the +superintendent Ed Hall in the corn-cutting machine plant, had brought +on Bidwell's first industrial strike. The discontented workmen were not +organized, and the strike was foredoomed to failure, but it had stirred +the town deeply. One day, a week before, quite suddenly some fifty or +sixty men had decided to quit. "We won't work for a fellow like Ed Hall," +they declared. "He sets a scale of prices and then, when we have driven +ourselves to the limit to make a decent day's pay, he cuts the scale." +Leaving the shop the men went in a body to Main Street and two or three of +them, developing unexpected eloquence, began delivering speeches on street +corners. On the next day the strike spread and for several days the shop +had been closed. Then a labor organizer came from Cleveland and on the day +of his arrival the story ran through the street that strike breakers were +to be brought in. + +And on that evening of many adventures another element was introduced into +the already disturbed life of the community. At the corner of Main and +McKinley Streets and just beyond the place where three old buildings were +being torn down to make room for the building of a new hotel, appeared a +man who climbed upon a box and attacked, not the piece work prices at the +corn-cutting machine plant, but the whole system that built and maintained +factories where the wage scale of the workmen could be fixed by the whim or +necessity of one man or a group of men. As the man on the box talked, the +workmen in the crowd who were of American birth began to shake their heads. +They went to one side and gathering in groups discussed the stranger's +words. "I tell you what," said a little old workman, pulling nervously at +his graying mustache, "I'm on strike and I'm for sticking out until Steve +Hunter and Tom Butterworth fire Ed Hall, but I don't like this kind of +talk. I'll tell you what that man's doing. He's attacking our Government, +that's what he's doing." The workmen went off to their homes grumbling. The +Government was to them a sacred thing, and they did not fancy having their +demands for a better wage scale confused by the talk of anarchists and +socialists. Many of the laborers of Bidwell were sons and grandsons of +pioneers who had opened up the country where the great sprawling towns were +now growing into cities. They or their fathers had fought in the great +Civil War. During boyhood they had breathed a reverence for government +out of the very air of the towns. The great men of whom the school-books +talked had all been connected with the Government. In Ohio there had been +Garfield, Sherman, McPherson the fighter and others. From Illinois had come +Lincoln and Grant. For a time the very ground of the mid-American country +had seemed to spurt forth great men as now it was spurting forth gas and +oil. Government had justified itself in the men it had produced. + +And now there had come among them men who had no reverence for government. +What a speaker for the first time dared say openly on the streets of +Bidwell, had already been talked in the shops. The new men, the foreigners +coming from many lands, had brought with them strange doctrines. They +began to make acquaintances among the American workmen. "Well," they said, +"you've had great men here; no doubt you have; but you're getting a new +kind of great men now. These new men are not born out of people. They're +being born out of capital. What is a great man? He's one who has the +power. Isn't that a fact? Well, you fellows here have got to find out that +nowadays power comes with the possession of money. Who are the big men of +this town?--not some lawyer or politician who can make a good speech, but +the men who own the factories where you have to work. Your Steve Hunter and +Tom Butterworth are the great men of this town." + +The socialist, who had come to speak on the streets of Bidwell, was a +Swede, and his wife had come with him. As he talked his wife made figures +on a blackboard. The old story of the trick by which the citizens of the +town had lost their money in the plant-setting machine company was revived +and told over and over. The Swede, a big man with heavy fists, spoke of the +prominent citizens of the town as thieves who by a trick had robbed their +fellows. As he stood on the box beside his wife, and raising his fists +shouted crude sentences condemning the capitalist class, men who had gone +away angry came back to listen. The speaker declared himself a workman like +themselves and, unlike the religious salvationists who occasionally spoke +on the streets, did not beg for money. "I'm a workman like yourselves," he +shouted. "Both my wife and myself work until we've saved a little money. +Then we come out to some town like this and fight capital until we're +busted. We've been fighting for years now and we'll keep on fighting as +long as we live." + +As the orator shouted out his sentences he raised his fist as though to +strike, and looked not unlike one of his ancestors, the Norsemen, who +in old times had sailed far and wide over unknown seas in search of the +fighting they loved. The men of Bidwell began to respect him. "After all, +what he says sounds like mighty good sense," they declared, shaking their +heads. "Maybe Ed Hall isn't any worse than any one else. We got to break +up the system. That's a fact. Some of these days we got to break up the +system." + + * * * * * + +Jim Gibson got to the door of Joe's shop at half-past seven o'clock. +Several men stood on the sidewalk and he stopped and stood before them, +intending to tell again the story of his triumph over his employer. Inside +the shop Joe was already at his bench and at work. The men, two of them +strikers from the corn-cutting machine plant, complained bitterly of the +difficulty of supporting their families, and a third man, a fellow with a +big black mustache who smoked a pipe, began to repeat some of the axioms +in regard to industrialism and the class war he had picked up from the +socialist orator. Jim listened for a moment and then, turning, put his +thumb on his buttocks and wriggled his fingers. "Oh, hell," he sneered, +"what are you fools talking about? You're going to get up a union or get +into the socialist party. What're you talking about? A union or a party +can't help a man who can't look out for himself." + +The blustering and half intoxicated harness maker stood in the open shop +door and told again and in detail the story of his triumph over his +employer. Then another thought came and he spoke of the twelve hundred +dollars Joe had lost in the stock, of the plant-setting machine company. +"He lost his money and you fellows are going to get licked in this fight," +he declared. "You're all wrong, you fellows, when you talk about unions or +joining the socialist party. What counts is what a man can do for himself. +Character counts. Yes, sir, character makes a man what he is." + +Jim pounded on his chest and glared about him. + +"Look at me," he said. "I was a drunkard and down and out when I came to +this town; a drunkard, that's what I was and that's what I am. I came here +to this shop to work, and now, if you want to know, ask any one in town who +runs this place. The socialist says money is power. Well, there's a man +inside here who has the money, but you bet I've got the power." + +Slapping his knees with his hands Jim laughed heartily. A week before, a +traveling man had come to the shop to sell machine-made harness. Joe had +ordered the man out and Jim had called him back. He had placed an order for +eighteen sets of the harness and had made Joe sign the order. The harness +had arrived that afternoon and was now hung in the shop. "It's hanging in +the shop now," Jim cried. "Go see for yourself." + +Triumphantly Jim walked up and down before the men on the sidewalk, and +his voice rang through the shop where Joe sat on his harness-maker's horse +under a swinging lamp hard at work. "I tell you, character's the thing +that counts," the roaring voice cried. "You see I'm a workingman like you +fellows, but I don't join a union or a socialist party. I get my way. My +boss Joe in there's a sentimental old fool, that's what he is. All his life +he's made harnesses by hand and he thinks that's the only way. He claims he +has pride in his work, that's what he claims." + +Jim laughed again. "Do you know what he did the other day when that +traveler had gone out of the shop and after I had made him sign that +order?" he asked. "Cried, that's what he did. By God, he did,--sat there +and cried." + +Again Jim laughed, but the workmen on the sidewalk did not join in his +merriment. Going to one of them, the one who had declared his intention of +joining the union, Jim began to berate him. "You think you can lick Ed Hall +with Steve Hunter and Tom Butterworth back of him, eh?" he asked sharply. +"Well, I'll tell you what--you can't. All the unions in the world won't +help you. You'll get licked--for why? + +"For why? Because Ed Hall is like me, that's for why. He's got character, +that's what he's got." + +Growing weary of his boasting and the silence of his audience, Jim started +to walk in at the door, but when one of the workmen, a pale man of fifty +with a graying mustache, spoke, he turned to listen. "You're a suck, a suck +and a lickspittle, that's what you are," said the pale man, his voice +trembling with passion. + +Jim ran through the crowd of men and knocked the speaker to the sidewalk +with a blow of his fist. Two of the other workmen seemed about to take up +the cause of their fallen brother, but when in spite of their threats Jim +stood his ground, they hesitated. They went to help the pale workman to his +feet, and Jim went into the shop and closed the door. Climbing onto his +horse he went to work, and the men went off along the sidewalk, still +threatening to do what they had not done when the opportunity offered. + +Joe worked in silence beside his employee and night began to settle down +over the disturbed town. Above the clatter of many voices in the street +outside could be heard the loud voice of the socialist orator who had taken +up his stand for the evening at a nearby corner. When it had become quite +dark outside, the old harness maker climbed down from his horse and going +to the front door opened it softly and looked up and down the street. Then +he closed it again and walked toward the rear of the shop. In his hand +he held his harness-maker's knife, shaped like a half moon and with an +extraordinarily sharp circular edge. The harness maker's wife had died +during the year before and since that time he had not slept well at night. +Often for a week at a time he did not sleep at all, but lay all night with +wide-open eyes, thinking strange, new thoughts. In the daytime and when Jim +was not about, he sometimes spent hours sharpening the moon-shaped knife on +a piece of leather; and on the day after the incident of the placing of the +order for the factory-made harness he had gone into a hardware store and +bought a cheap revolver. He had been sharpening the knife as Jim talked to +the workmen outside. When Jim began to tell the story of his humiliation he +had stopped sewing at the broken harness in his vise and, getting up, had +taken the knife from its hiding-place under a pile of leather on a bench to +give its edge a few last caressing strokes. + +Holding the knife in his hand Joe went with shambling steps toward the +place where Jim sat absorbed in his work. A brooding silence seemed to lie +over the shop and even outside in the street all noises suddenly ceased. +Old Joe's gait changed. As he passed behind the horse on which Jim sat, +life came into his figure and he walked with a soft, cat-like tread. Joy +shone in his eyes. As though warned of something impending, Jim turned and +opened his mouth to growl at his employer, but his words never found their +way to his lips. The old man made a peculiar half step, half leap past the +horse, and the knife whipped through the air. At one stroke he had +succeeded in practically severing Jim Gibson's head from his body. + +There was no sound in the shop. Joe threw the knife into a corner and ran +quickly past the horse where the body of Jim Gibson sat upright. Then the +body fell to the floor with a thump and there was the sharp rattle of +heels on the board floor. The old man locked the front door and listened +impatiently. When all was again quiet he went to search for the knife he +had thrown away, but could not find it. Taking Jim's knife from a bench +under the hanging lamp, he stepped over the body and climbed upon his horse +to turn out the lights. + +For an hour Joe stayed in the shop with the dead man. The eighteen sets of +harness shipped from a Cleveland factory had been received that morning, +and Jim had insisted they be unpacked and hung on hooks along the shop +walls. He had bullied Joe into helping hang the harnesses, and now Joe took +them down alone. One by one they were laid on the floor and with Jim's +knife the old man cut each strap into little pieces that made a pile of +litter on the floor reaching to his waist. When that was done he went again +to the rear of the shop, again stepping almost carelessly over the dead +man, and took the revolver out of the pocket of an overcoat that hung by +the door. + +Joe went out of the shop by the back door, and having locked it carefully, +crept through an alleyway and into the lighted street where people walked +up and down. The next place to his own was a barber shop, and as he hurried +along the sidewalk, two young men came out and called to him. "Hey," they +called, "do you believe in factory-made harness now-days, Joe Wainsworth? +Hey, what do you say? Do you sell factory-made harness?" + +Joe did not answer, but stepping off the sidewalk, walked in the road. A +group of Italian laborers passed, talking rapidly and making gestures with +their hands. As he went more deeply into the heart of the growing city, +past the socialist orator and a labor organizer who was addressing a crowd +of men on another corner, his step became cat-like as it had been in the +moment before the knife flashed at the throat of Jim Gibson. The crowds of +people frightened him. He imagined himself set upon by a crowd and hanged +to a lamp-post. The voice of the labor orator arose above the murmur of +voices in the street. "We've got to take power into our hands. We've got to +carry on our own battle for power," the voice declared. + +The harness maker turned a corner into a quiet street, his hand caressing +affectionately the revolver in the side pocket of his coat. He intended to +kill himself, but had not wanted to die in the same room with Jim Gibson. +In his own way he had always been a very sensitive man and his only fear +was that rough hands fall upon him before he had completed the evening's +work. He was quite sure that had his wife been alive she would have +understood what had happened. She had always understood everything he did +or said. He remembered his courtship. His wife had been a country girl and +on Sundays, after their marriage, they had gone together to spend the day +in the wood. After Joe had brought his wife to Bidwell they continued the +practice. One of his customers, a well-to-do farmer, lived five miles north +of town, and on his farm there was a grove of beech trees. Almost every +Sunday for several years he got a horse from the livery stable and took his +wife there. After dinner at the farmhouse, he and the farmer gossiped for +an hour, while the women washed the dishes, and then he took his wife and +went into the beech forest. No underbrush grew under the spreading branches +of the trees, and when the two people had remained silent for a time, +hundreds of squirrels and chipmunks came to chatter and play about them. +Joe had brought nuts in his pocket and threw them about. The quivering +little animals drew near and then with a flip of their tails scampered +away. One day a boy from a neighboring farm came to the wood and shot +one of the squirrels. It happened just as Joe and his wife came from the +farmhouse and he saw the wounded squirrel hang from the branch of a tree, +and then fall. It lay at his feet and his wife grew ill and leaned against +him for support. He said nothing, but stared at the quivering thing on the +ground. When it lay still the boy came and picked it up. Still Joe said +nothing. Taking his wife's arm he walked to where they were in the habit of +sitting, and reached in his pocket for the nuts to scatter on the ground. +The farm boy, who had felt the reproach in the eyes of the man and woman, +had gone out of the wood. Suddenly Joe began to cry. He was ashamed and did +not want his wife to see, and she pretended she had not seen. + +On the night when he had killed Jim, Joe decided he would walk to the farm +and the beech forest and there kill himself. He hurried past a long row of +dark stores and warehouses in the newly built section of town and came to +a residence street. He saw a man coming toward him and stepped into the +stairway of a store building. The man stopped under a street lamp to light +a cigar, and the harness maker recognized him. It was Steve Hunter, who +had induced him to invest the twelve hundred dollars in the stock of the +plant-setting machine company, the man who had brought the new times +to Bidwell, the man who was at the bottom of all such innovations as +machine-made harnesses. Joe had killed his employee, Jim Gibson, in cold +anger, but now a new kind of anger took possession of him. Something danced +before his eyes and his hands trembled so that he was afraid the gun he had +taken out of his pocket would fall to the sidewalk. It wavered as he raised +it and fired, but chance came to his assistance. Steve Hunter pitched +forward to the sidewalk. + +Without stopping to pick up the revolver that had fallen out of his hand, +Joe now ran up a stairway and got into a dark, empty hall. He felt his +way along a wall and came presently to another stairway, leading down. +It brought him into an alleyway, and going along this he came out near +the bridge that led over the river and into what in the old days had been +Turner's Pike, the road out which he had driven with his wife to the farm +and the beech forest. + +But one thing now puzzled Joe Wainsworth. He had lost his revolver and did +not know how he was to manage his own death. "I must do it some way," he +thought, when at last, after nearly three hours steady plodding and hiding +in fields to avoid the teams going along the road he got to the beech +forest. He went to sit under a tree near the place where he had so often +sat through quiet Sunday afternoons with his wife beside him. "I'll rest a +little and then I'll think how I can do it," he thought wearily, holding +his head in his hands. "I mustn't go to sleep. If they find me they'll hurt +me. They'll hurt me before I have a chance to kill myself. They'll hurt me +before I have a chance to kill myself," he repeated, over and over, holding +his head in his hands and rocking gently back and forth. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +The car driven by Tom Butterworth stopped at a town, and Tom got out to +fill his pockets with cigars and incidentally to enjoy the wonder and +admiration of the citizens. He was in an exalted mood and words flowed from +him. As the motor under its hood purred, so the brain under the graying old +head purred and threw forth words. He talked to the idlers before the drug +stores in the towns and, when the car started again and they were out in +the open country, his voice, pitched in a high key to make itself heard +above the purring engine, became shrill. Having struck the shrill tone of +the new age the voice went on and on. + +But the voice and the swift-moving car did not stir Clara. She tried not +to hear the voice, and fixing her eyes on the soft landscape flowing past +under the moon, tried to think of other times and places. She thought of +nights when she had walked with Kate Chanceller through the streets of +Columbus, and of the silent ride she had taken with Hugh that night they +were married. Her mind went back into her childhood and she remembered the +long days she had spent riding with her father in this same valley, going +from farm to farm to haggle and dicker for the purchase of calves and pigs. +Her father had not talked then but sometimes, when they had driven far and +were homeward bound in the failing light of evening, words did come to him. +She remembered one evening in the summer after her mother died and when +her father often took her with him on his drives. They had stopped for the +evening meal at the house of a farmer and when they got on the road again, +the moon came out. Something present in the spirit of the night stirred +Tom, and he spoke of his life as a boy in the new country and of his +fathers and brothers. "We worked hard, Clara," he said. "The whole country +was new and every acre we planted had to be cleared." The mind of the +prosperous farmer fell into a reminiscent mood and he spoke of little +things concerning his life as a boy and young man; the days of cutting wood +alone in the silent, white forest when winter came and it was time for +getting out firewood and logs for new farm buildings, the log rollings to +which neighboring farmers came, when great piles of logs were made and set +afire that space might be cleared for planting. In the winter the boy went +to school in the village of Bidwell and as he was even then an energetic, +pushing youth, already intent on getting on in the world, he set traps in +the forest and on the banks of streams and walked the trap line on his way +to and from school. In the spring he sent his pelts to the growing town of +Cleveland where they were sold. He spoke of the money he got and of how he +had finally saved enough to buy a horse of his own. + +Tom had talked of many other things on that night, of the spelling-downs at +the schoolhouse in town, of huskings and dances held in the barns and of +the evening when he went skating on the river and first met his wife. "We +took to each other at once," he said softly. "There was a fire built on the +bank of the river and after I had skated with her we went and sat down to +warm ourselves. + +"We wanted to get married to each other right away," he told Clara. "I +walked home with her after we got tired of skating, and after that I +thought of nothing but how to get my own farm and have a home of my own." + +As the daughter sat in the motor listening to the shrill voice of the +father, who now talked only of the making of machines and money, that other +man talking softly in the moonlight as the horse jogged slowly along +the dark road seemed very far away. All such men seemed very far away. +"Everything worth while is very far away," she thought bitterly. "The +machines men are so intent on making have carried them very far from the +old sweet things." + +The motor flew along the roads and Tom thought of his old longing to own +and drive fast racing horses. "I used to be half crazy to own fast horses," +he shouted to his son-in-law. "I didn't do it, because owning fast horses +meant a waste of money, but it was in my mind all the time. I wanted to go +fast: faster than any one else." In a kind of ecstasy he gave the motor +more gas and shot the speed up to fifty miles an hour. The hot, summer air, +fanned into a violent wind, whistled past his head. "Where would the damned +race horses be now," he called, "where would your Maud S. or your J.I.C. +be, trying to catch up with me in this car?" + +Yellow wheat fields and fields of young corn, tall now and in the light +breeze that was blowing whispering in the moonlight, flashed past, looking +like squares on a checker board made for the amusement of the child of some +giant. The car ran through miles of the low farming country, through the +main streets of towns, where the people ran out of the stores to stand +on the sidewalks and look at the new wonder, through sleeping bits of +woodlands--remnants of the great forests in which Tom had worked as a +boy--and across wooden bridges over small streams, beside which grew +tangled masses of elderberries, now yellow and fragrant with blossoms. + +At eleven o'clock having already achieved some ninety miles Tom turned the +car back. Running more sedately he again talked of the mechanical triumphs +of the age in which he had lived. "I've brought you whizzing along, you and +Clara," he said proudly. "I tell you what, Hugh, Steve Hunter and I have +brought you along fast in more ways that one. You've got to give Steve +credit for seeing something in you, and you've got to give me credit for +putting my money back of your brains. I don't want to take no credit from +Steve. There's credit enough for all. All I got to say for myself is that I +saw the hole in the doughnut. Yes, sir, I wasn't so blind. I saw the hole +in the doughnut." + +Tom stopped to light a cigar and then drove on again. "I'll tell you what, +Hugh," he said, "I wouldn't say so to any one not of my family, but the +truth is, I'm the man that's been putting over the big things there in +Bidwell. The town is going to be a city now and a mighty big city. Towns +in this State like Columbus, Toledo and Dayton, had better look out for +themselves. I'm the man has always kept Steve Hunter steady and going +straight ahead down the track, as this car goes with my hand at the +steering wheel. + +"You don't know anything about it, and I don't want you should talk, but +there are new things coming to Bidwell," he added. "When I was in Chicago +last month I met a man who has been making rubber buggy and bicycle +tires. I'm going in with him and we're going to start a plant for making +automobile-tires right in Bidwell. The tire business is bound to be one +of the greatest on earth and they ain't no reason why Bidwell shouldn't +be the biggest tire center ever known in the world." Although the car +now ran quietly, Tom's voice again became shrill. "There'll be hundreds +of thousands of cars like this tearing over every road in America," he +declared. "Yes, sir, they will; and if I calculate right Bidwell'll be the +great tire town of the world." + +For a long time Tom drove in silence, and when he again began to talk it +was a new mood. He told a tale of life in Bidwell that stirred both Hugh +and Clara deeply. He was angry and had Clara not been in the car would have +become violently profane. + +"I'd like to hang the men who are making trouble in the shops in town," he +broke forth. "You know who I mean, I mean the labor men who are trying to +make trouble for Steve Hunter and me. There's a socialist talking every +night on the street over there. I'll tell you, Hugh, the laws of this +country are wrong." For ten minutes he talked of the labor difficulties in +the shops. + +"They better look out," he declared, and was so angry that his voice rose +to something like a suppressed scream. "We're inventing new machines pretty +fast now-days," he cried. "Pretty soon we'll do all the work by machines. +Then what'll we do? We'll kick all the workers out and let 'em strike till +they're sick, that's what we'll do. They can talk their fool socialism all +they want, but we'll show 'em, the fools." + +His angry mood passed, and as the car turned into the last fifteen-mile +stretch of road that led to Bidwell, he told the tale that so deeply +stirred his passengers. Chuckling softly he told of the struggle of the +Bidwell harness maker, Joe Wainsworth, to prevent the sale of machine-made +harness in the community, and of his experience with his employee, Jim +Gibson. Tom had heard the tale in the bar-room of the Bidwell House and +it had made a profound impression on his mind. "I'll tell you what," he +declared, "I'm going to get in touch with Jim Gibson. That's the kind of +man to handle workers. I only heard about him to-night, but I'm going to +see him to-morrow." + +Leaning back in his seat Tom laughed heartily as he told of the traveling +man who had visited Joe Wainsworth's shop and the placing of the order for +the factory-made harness. In some intangible way he felt that when Jim +Gibson laid the order for the harness on the bench in the shop and by the +force of his personality compelled Joe Wainsworth to sign, he justified +all such men as himself. In imagination he lived in that moment with Jim, +and like Jim the incident aroused his inclination to boast. "Why, a lot +of cheap laboring skates can't down such men as myself any more than Joe +Wainsworth could down that Jim Gibson," he declared. "They ain't got the +character, you see, that's what the matter, they ain't got the character." +Tom touched some mechanism connected with the engine of the car and it shot +suddenly forward. "Suppose one of them labor leaders were standing in the +road there," he cried. Instinctively Hugh leaned forward and peered into +the darkness through which the lights of the car cut like a great scythe, +and on the back seat Clara half rose to her feet. Tom shouted with delight +and as the car plunged along the road his voice rose in triumph. "The damn +fools!" he cried. "They think they can stop the machines. Let 'em try. They +want to go on in their old hand-made way. Let 'em look out. Let 'em look +out for such men as Jim Gibson and me." + +Down a slight incline in the road shot the car and swept around a wide +curve, and then the jumping, dancing light, running far ahead, revealed a +sight that made Tom thrust out his foot and jam on the brakes. + +In the road and in the very center of the circle of light, as though +performing a scene on the stage, three men were struggling. As the car +came to a stop, so sudden that it pitched both Clara and Hugh out of their +seats, the struggle came to an end. One of the struggling figures, a small +man without coat or hat, had jerked himself away from the others and +started to run toward the fence at the side of the road and separating it +from a grove of trees. A large, broad-shouldered man sprang forward and +catching the tail of the fleeing man's coat pulled him back into the circle +of light. His fist shot out and caught the small man directly on the mouth. +He fell like a dead thing, face downward in the dust of the road. + +Tom ran the car slowly forward and its headlight continued to play over the +three figures. From a little pocket at the side of his driver's seat he +took a revolver. He ran the car quickly to a position near the group in the +road and stopped. + +"What's up?" he asked sharply. + +Ed Hall the factory superintendent, the man who had struck the blow that +had felled the little man, stepped forward and explained the tragic +happenings of the evening in town. The factory superintendent had +remembered that as a boy he had once worked for a few weeks on the farm of +which the wood beside the road was a part, and that on Sunday afternoons +the harness maker had come to the farm with his wife and the two people had +gone to walk in the very place where he had just been found. "I had a hunch +he would be out here," he boasted. "I figured it out. Crowds started out of +town in all directions, but I cut out alone. Then I happened to see this +fellow and just for company I brought him along." He put up his hand and, +looking at Tom, tapped his forehead. "Cracked," he declared, "he always +was. A fellow I knew saw him once in that woods," he said pointing. +"Somebody had shot a squirrel and he took on about it as though he had lost +a child. I said then he was crazy, and he has sure proved I was right." + +At a word from her father Clara went to sit on the front seat on Hugh's +knees. Her body trembled and she was cold with fear. As her father had +told the story of Jim Gibson's triumph over Joe Wainsworth she had wanted +passionately to kill that blustering fellow. Now the thing was done. In +her mind the harness maker had come to stand for all the men and women in +the world who were in secret revolt against the absorption of the age in +machines and the products of machines. He had stood as a protesting figure +against what her father had become and what she thought her husband had +become. She had wanted Jim Gibson killed and it had been done. As a child +she had gone often to Wainsworth's shop with her father or some farm hand, +and she now remembered sharply the peace and quiet of the place. At the +thought of the same place, now become the scene of a desperate killing, her +body shook so that she clutched at Hugh's arms, striving to steady herself. + +Ed Hall took the senseless figure of the old man in the road into his arms +and half threw it into the back seat of the car. To Clara it was as though +his rough, misunderstanding hands were on her own body. The car started +swiftly along the road and Ed told again the story of the night's +happenings. "I tell you, Mr. Hunter is in mighty bad shape, he may die," +he said. Clara turned to look at her husband and thought him totally +unaffected by what had happened. His face was quiet like her father's face. +The factory superintendent's voice went on explaining his part in the +adventures of the evening. Ignoring the pale workman who sat lost in the +shadows in a corner of the rear seat, he spoke as though he had undertaken +and accomplished the capture of the murderer single-handed. As he +afterwards explained to his wife, Ed felt he had been a fool not to come +alone. "I knew I could handle him all right," he explained. "I wasn't +afraid, but I had figured it all out he was crazy. That made me feel shaky. +When they were getting up a crowd to go out on the hunt, I says to myself, +I'll go alone. I says to myself, I'll bet he's gone out to that woods on +the Riggly farm where he and his wife used to go on Sundays. I started and +then I saw this other man standing on a corner and I made him come with me. +He didn't want to come and I wish I'd gone alone. I could have handled him +and I'd got all the credit." + +In the car Ed told the story of the night in the streets of Bidwell. Some +one had seen Steve Hunter shot down in the street and had declared the +harness maker had done it and had then run away. A crowd had gone to the +harness shop and had found the body of Jim Gibson. On the floor of the shop +were the factory-made harnesses cut into bits. "He must have been in there +and at work for an hour or two, stayed right in there with the man he had +killed. It's the craziest thing any man ever done." + +The harness maker, lying on the floor of the car where Ed had thrown him, +stirred and sat up. Clara turned to look at him and shivered. His shirt was +torn so that the thin, old neck and shoulders could be plainly seen in the +uncertain light, and his face was covered with blood that had dried and was +now black with dust. Ed Hall went on with the tale of his triumph. "I found +him where I said to myself I would. Yes, sir, I found him where I said to +myself I would." + +The car came to the first of the houses of the town, long rows of cheaply +built frame houses standing in what had once been Ezra French's cabbage +patch, where Hugh had crawled on the ground in the moonlight, working +out the mechanical problems that confronted him in the building of his +plant-setting machine. Suddenly the distraught and frightened man crouched +on the floor of the car, raised himself on his hands and lurched forward, +trying to spring over the side. Ed Hall caught him by the arm and jerked +him back. He drew back his arm to strike again but Clara's voice, cold and +intense with passion, stopped him. "If you touch him, I'll kill you," she +said. "No matter what he does, don't you dare strike him again." + +Tom drove the car slowly through the streets of Bidwell to the door of +a police station. Word of the return of the murderer had run ahead, and +a crowd had gathered. Although it was past two o'clock the lights still +burned in stores and saloons, and crowds stood at every corner. With the +aid of a policeman, Ed Hall, with one eye fixed cautiously on the front +seat where Clara sat, started to lead Joe Wainsworth away. "Come on now, we +won't hurt you," he said reassuringly, and had got his man free of the car +when he broke away. Springing back into the rear seat the crazed man turned +to look at the crowd. A sob broke from his lips. For a moment he stood +trembling with fright, and then turning, he for the first time saw Hugh, +the man in whose footsteps he had once crept in the darkness in Turner's +Pike, the man who had invented the machine by which the earnings of a +lifetime had been swept away. "It wasn't me. You did it. You killed Jim +Gibson," he screamed, and springing forward sank his fingers and teeth into +Hugh's neck. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +One day in the month of October, four years after the time of his first +motor ride with Clara and Tom, Hugh went on a business trip to the city +of Pittsburgh. He left Bidwell in the morning and got to the steel city +at noon. At three o'clock his business was finished and he was ready to +return. + +Although he had not yet realized it, Hugh's career as a successful inventor +had received a sharp check. The trick of driving directly at the point, of +becoming utterly absorbed in the thing before him, had been lost. He went +to Pittsburgh to see about the casting of new parts for the hay-loading +machine, but what he did in Pittsburgh was of no importance to the men who +would manufacture and sell that worthy, labor-saving tool. Although he did +not know it, a young man from Cleveland, in the employ of Tom and Steve, +had already done what Hugh was striving half-heartedly to do. The machine +had been finished and ready to market in October three years before, and +after repeated tests a lawyer had made formal application for patent. Then +it was discovered that an Iowa man had already made application for and +been granted a patent on a similar apparatus. + +When Tom came to the shop and told him what had happened Hugh had been +ready to drop the whole matter, but that was not Tom's notion. "The devil!" +he said. "Do you think we're going to waste all this money and labor?" + +Drawings of the Iowa man's machine were secured, and Tom set Hugh at the +task of doing what he called "getting round" the other fellow's patents. +"Do the best you can and we'll go ahead," he said. "You see we've got the +money and that means power. Make what changes you can and then we'll go on +with our manufacturing plans. We'll whipsaw this other fellow through the +courts. We'll fight him till he's sick of fight and then we'll buy him +out cheap. I've had the fellow looked up and he hasn't any money and is a +boozer besides. You go ahead. We'll get that fellow all right." + +Hugh had tried valiantly to go along the road marked out for him by his +father-in-law and had put aside other plans to rebuild the machine he had +thought of as completed and out of the way. He made new parts, changed +other parts, studied the drawings of the Iowa man's machine, did what he +could to accomplish his task. + +Nothing happened. A conscientious determination not to infringe on the work +of the Iowa man stood in his way. + +Then something did happen. At night as he sat alone in his shop after a +long study of the drawings of the other man's machine, he put them aside +and sat staring into the darkness beyond the circle of light cast by his +lamp. He forgot the machine and thought of the unknown inventor, the man +far away over forests, lakes and rivers, who for months had worked on the +same problem that had occupied his mind. Tom had said the man had no money +and was a boozer. He could be defeated, bought cheap. He was himself at +work on the instrument of the man's defeat. + +Hugh left his shop and went for a walk, and the problem connected with the +twisting of the iron and steel parts of the hay-loading apparatus into new +forms was again left unsolved. The Iowa man had become a distinct, almost +understandable personality to Hugh. Tom had said he drank, got drunk. His +own father had been a drunkard. Once a man, the very man who had been the +instrument of his own coming to Bidwell, had taken it for granted he was a +drunkard. He wondered if some twist of life might not have made him one. + +Thinking of the Iowa man, Hugh began to think of other men. He thought of +his father and of himself. When he was striving to come out of the filth, +the flies, the poverty, the fishy smells, the shadowy dreams of his life +by the river, his father had often tried to draw him back into that life. +In imagination he saw before him the dissolute man who had bred him. On +afternoons of summer days in the river town, when Henry Shepard was not +about, his father sometimes came to the station where he was employed. He +had begun to earn a little money and his father wanted it to buy drinks. +Why? + +There was a problem for Hugh's mind, a problem that could not be solved in +wood and steel. He walked and thought about it when he should have been +making new parts for the hay-loading apparatus. He had lived but little in +the life of the imagination, had been afraid to live that life, had been +warned and re-warned against living it. The shadowy figure of the unknown +inventor in the state of Iowa, who had been brother to himself, who had +worked on the same problems and had come to the same conclusions, slipped +away, followed by the almost equally shadowy figure of his father. Hugh +tried to think of himself and his own life. + +For a time that seemed a simple and easy way out of the new and intricate +task he had set for his mind. His own life was a matter of history. He +knew about himself. Having walked far out of town, he turned and went back +toward his shop. His way led through the new city that had grown up since +his coming to Bidwell. Turner's Pike that had been a country road along +which on summer evenings lovers strolled to the Wheeling station and +Pickleville was now a street. All that section of the new city was given +over to workers' homes and here and there a store had been built. The Widow +McCoy's place was gone and in its place was a warehouse, black and silent +under the night sky. How grim the street in the late night! The berry +pickers who once went along the road at evening were now gone forever. Like +Ezra French's sons they had perhaps become factory hands. Apple and cherry +trees once grew along the road. They had dropped their blossoms on the +heads of strolling lovers. They also were gone. Hugh had once crept along +the road at the heels of Ed Hall, who walked with his arm about a girl's +waist. He had heard Ed complaining of his lot in life and crying out for +new times. It was Ed Hall who had introduced the piecework plan in the +factories of Bidwell and brought about the strike, during which three men +had been killed and ill-feeling engendered in hundreds of silent workers. +That strike had been won by Tom and Steve and they had since that time been +victorious in a larger and more serious strike. Ed Hall was now at the head +of a new factory being built along the Wheeling tracks. He was growing fat +and was prosperous. + +When Hugh got to his shop he lighted his lamp and again got out the +drawings he had come from home to study. They lay unnoticed on the desk. +He looked at his watch. It was two o'clock. "Clara may be awake. I must go +home," he thought vaguely. He now owned his own motor car and it stood in +the road before the shop. Getting in he drove away into the darkness over +the bridge, out of Turner's Pike and along a street lined with factories +and railroad sidings. Some of the factories were working and were ablaze +with lights. Through lighted windows he could see men stationed along +benches and bending over huge, iron machines. He had come from home that +evening to study the work of an unknown man from the far away state of +Iowa, to try to circumvent that man. Then he had gone to walk and to think +of himself and his own life. "The evening has been wasted. I have done +nothing," he thought gloomily as his car climbed up a long street lined +with the homes of the wealthier citizens of his town and turned into the +short stretch of Medina Road still left between the town and the +Butterworth farmhouse. + + * * * * * + +On the day when he went to Pittsburgh, Hugh got to the station where he was +to take the homeward train at three, and the train did not leave until +four. He went into a big waiting-room and sat on a bench in a corner. After +a time he arose and going to a stand bought a newspaper, but did not read +it. It lay unopened on the bench beside him. The station was filled with +men, women, and children who moved restlessly about. A train came in and a +swarm of people departed, were carried into faraway parts of the country, +while new people came into the station from a nearby street. He looked at +those who were going out into the train shed. "It may be that some of them +are going to that town in Iowa where that fellow lives," he thought. It was +odd how thoughts of the unknown Iowa man clung to him. + +One day, during the same summer and but a few months earlier, Hugh had gone +to the town of Sandusky, Ohio, on the same mission that had brought him to +Pittsburgh. How many parts for the hay-loading machine had been cast and +later thrown away! They did the work, but he decided each time that he had +infringed on the other man's machine. When that happened he did not consult +Tom. Something within him warned him against doing that. He destroyed the +part. "It wasn't what I wanted," he told Tom who had grown discouraged with +his son-in-law but did not openly voice his dissatisfaction. "Oh, well, +he's lost his pep, marriage has taken the life out of him. We'll have to +get some one else on the job," he said to Steve, who had entirely recovered +from the wound received at the hands of Joe Wainsworth. + +On that day when he went to Sandusky, Hugh had several hours to wait for +his homebound train and went to walk by the shores of a bay. Some brightly +colored stones attracted his attention and he picked several of them up and +put them in his pockets. In the station at Pittsburgh he took them out and +held them in his hand. A light came in at a window, a long, slanting light +that played over the stones. His roving, disturbed mind was caught and +held. He rolled the stones back and forth. The colors blended and then +separated again. When he raised his eyes, a woman and a child on a nearby +bench, also attracted by the flashing bit of color held like a flame in his +hand, were looking at him intently. + +He was confused and walked out of the station into the street. "What a +silly fellow I have become, playing with colored stones like a child," he +thought, but at the same time put the stones carefully into his pockets. + +Ever since that night when he had been attacked in the motor, the sense of +some indefinable, inner struggle had been going on in Hugh, as it went on +that day in the station at Pittsburgh and on the night in the shop, when he +found himself unable to fix his attention on the prints of the Iowa man's +machine. Unconsciously and quite without intent he had come into a new +level of thought and action. He had been an unconscious worker, a doer +and was now becoming something else. The time of the comparatively simple +struggle with definite things, with iron and steel, had passed. He fought +to accept himself, to understand himself, to relate himself with the life +about him. The poor white, son of the defeated dreamer by the river, who +had forced himself in advance of his fellows along the road of mechanical +development, was still in advance of his fellows of the growing Ohio towns. +The struggle he was making was the struggle his fellows of another +generation would one and all have to make. + +Hugh got into his home-bound train at four o'clock and went into the +smoking car. The somewhat distorted and twisted fragment of thoughts that +had all day been playing through his mind stayed with him. "What difference +does it make if the new parts I have ordered for the machine have to be +thrown away?" he thought. "If I never complete the machine, it's all right. +The one the Iowa man had made does the work." + +For a long time he struggled with that thought. Tom, Steve, all the Bidwell +men with whom he had been associated, had a philosophy into which the +thought did not fit. "When you put your hand to the plow do not turn back," +they said. Their language was full of such sayings. To attempt to do a +thing and fail was the great crime, the sin against the Holy Ghost. There +was unconscious defiance of a whole civilization in Hugh's attitude toward +the completion of the parts that would help Tom and his business associates +"get around" the Iowa man's patent. + +The train from Pittsburgh went through northern Ohio to a junction where +Hugh would get another train for Bidwell. Great booming towns, Youngstown, +Akron, Canton, Massillon--manufacturing towns all--lay along the way. In +the smoker Hugh sat, again playing with the colored stones held in his +hand. There was relief for his mind in the stones. The light continually +played about them, and their color shifted and changed. One could look at +the stones and get relief from thoughts. Raising his eyes he looked out of +the car window. The train was passing through Youngstown. His eyes looked +along grimy streets of worker's houses clustered closely about huge mills. +The same light that had played over the stones in his hand began to play +over his mind, and for a moment he became not an inventor but a poet. The +revolution within had really begun. A new declaration of independence wrote +itself within him. "The gods have thrown the towns like stones over the +flat country, but the stones have no color. They do not burn and change in +the light," he thought. + +Two men who sat in a seat in the westward bound train began to talk, and +Hugh listened. One of them had a son in college. "I want him to be a +mechanical engineer," he said. "If he doesn't do that I'll get him started +in business. It's a mechanical age and a business age. I want to see him +succeed. I want him to keep in the spirit of the times." + +Hugh's train was due in Bidwell at ten, but did not arrive until half after +eleven. He walked from the station through the town toward the Butterworth +farm. + +At the end of their first year of marriage a daughter had been born to +Clara, and some time before his trip to Pittsburgh she had told him she was +again pregnant. "She may be sitting up. I must get home," he thought, but +when he got to the bridge near the farmhouse, the bridge on which he had +stood beside Clara that first time they were together, he got out of the +road and went to sit on a fallen log at the edge of a grove of trees. + +"How quiet and peaceful the night!" he thought and leaning forward held his +long, troubled face in his hands. He wondered why peace and quiet would +not come to him, why life would not let him alone. "After all, I've lived +a simple life and have done good work," he thought. "Some of the things +they've said about me are true enough. I've invented machines that save +useless labor, I've lightened men's labor." + +Hugh tried to cling to that thought, but it would not stay in his mind. All +the thoughts that gave his mind peace and quiet flew away like birds seen +on a distant horizon at evening. It had been so ever since that night when +he was suddenly and unexpectedly attacked by the crazed harness maker in +the motor. Before that his mind had often been unsettled, but he knew what +he wanted. He wanted men and women and close association with men and +women. Often his problem was yet more simple. He wanted a woman, one who +would love him and lie close to him at night. He wanted the respect of his +fellows in the town where he had come to live his life. He wanted to +succeed at the particular task to which he had set his hand. + +The attack made upon him by the insane harness maker had at first seemed to +settle all his problems. At the moment when the frightened and desperate +man sank his teeth and fingers into Hugh's neck, something had happened to +Clara. It was Clara who, with a strength and quickness quite amazing, had +torn the insane man away. All through that evening she had been hating her +husband and father, and then suddenly she loved Hugh. The seeds of a child +were already alive in her, and when the body of her man was furiously +attacked, he became also her child. Swiftly, like the passing of a shadow +over the surface of a river on a windy day, the change in her attitude +toward her husband took place. All that evening she had been hating the new +age she had thought so perfectly personified in the two men, who talked +of the making of machines while the beauty of the night was whirled away +into the darkness with the cloud of dust thrown into the air by the flying +motor. She had been hating Hugh and sympathizing with the dead past he and +other men like him were destroying, the past that was represented by the +figure of the old harness maker who wanted to do his work by hand in the +old way, by the man who had aroused the scorn and derision of her father. + +And then the past rose up to strike. It struck with claws and teeth, and +the claws and teeth sank into Hugh's flesh, into the flesh of the man whose +seed was already alive within her. + +At that moment the woman who had been a thinker stopped thinking. Within +her arose the mother, fierce, indomitable, strong with the strength of the +roots of a tree. To her then and forever after Hugh was no hero, remaking +the world, but a perplexed boy hurt by life. He never again escaped out of +boyhood in her consciousness of him. With the strength of a tigress she +tore the crazed harness maker away from Hugh, and with something of the +surface brutality of another Ed Hall, threw him to the floor of the car. +When Ed and the policeman, assisted by several bystanders, came running +forward, she waited almost indifferently while they forced the screaming +and kicking man through the crowd and in at the door of the police station. + +For Clara the thing for which she had hungered had, she thought, happened. +In quick, sharp tones she ordered her father to drive the car to a doctor's +house and later stood by while the torn and lacerated flesh of Hugh's +cheek and neck was bandaged. The thing for which Joe Wainsworth stood and +that she had thought was so precious to herself no longer existed in her +consciousness, and if later she was for some weeks nervous and half ill, it +was not because of any thought given to the fate of the old harness maker. + +The sudden attack out of the town's past had brought Hugh to Clara, had +made him a living if not quite satisfying companion to her, but it had +brought something quite different to Hugh. The bite of the man's teeth and +the torn places on his cheeks left by the tense fingers had mended, leaving +but a slight scar; but a virus had got into his veins. The disease of +thinking had upset the harness maker's mind and the germ of that disease +had got into Hugh's blood. It had worked up into his eyes and ears. Words +men dropped thoughtlessly and that in the past had been blown past his +ears, as chaff is blown from wheat in the harvest, now stayed to echo and +re-echo in his mind. In the past he had seen towns and factories grow and +had accepted without question men's word that growth was invariably good. +Now his eyes looked at the towns, at Bidwell, Akron, Youngstown, and all +the great, new towns scattered up and down mid-western America as on the +train and in the station at Pittsburgh he had looked at the colored stones +held in his hand. He looked at the towns and wanted light and color to play +over them as they played over the stones, and when that did not happen, +his mind, filled with strange new hungers engendered by the disease of +thinking, made up words over which lights played. "The gods have scattered +towns over the flat lands," his mind had said, as he sat in the smoking +car of the train, and the phrase came back to him later, as he sat in the +darkness on the log with his head held in his hands. It was a good phrase +and lights could play over it as they played over the colored stones, but +it would in no way answer the problem of how to "get around" the Iowa's man +patent on the hay loading device. + +Hugh did not get to the Butterworth farmhouse until two o'clock in the +morning, but when he got there his wife was awake and waiting for him. She +heard his heavy, dragging footsteps in the road as he turned in at the farm +gate, and getting quickly out of bed, threw a cloak over her shoulders and +came out to the porch facing the barns. A late moon had come up and the +barnyard was washed with moonlight. From the barns came the low, sweet +sound of contented animals nibbling at the hay in the mangers before them, +from a row of sheds back of one of the barns came the soft bleating of +sheep and in a far away field a calf bellowed loudly and was answered by +its mother. + +When Hugh stepped into the moonlight around the corner of the house, Clara +ran down the steps to meet him, and taking his arm, led him past the barns +and over the bridge where as a child she had seen the figures of her fancy +advancing towards her. Sensing his troubled state her mother spirit was +aroused. He was unfilled by the life he led. She understood that. It was so +with her. By a lane they went to a fence where nothing but open fields lay +between the farm and the town far below. Although she sensed his troubled +state, Clara was not thinking of Hugh's trip to Pittsburgh nor of the +problems connected with the completion of the hay-loading machine. It may +be that like her father she had dismissed from her mind all thoughts of him +as one who would continue to help solve the mechanical problems of his age. +Thoughts of his continued success had never meant much to her, but during +the evening something had happened to Clara and she wanted to tell him +about it, to take him into the joy of it. Their first child had been a girl +and she was sure the next would be a man child. "I felt him to-night," she +said, when they had got to the place by the fence and saw below the lights +of the town. "I felt him to-night," she said again, "and oh, he was strong! +He kicked like anything. I am sure this time it's a boy." + +For perhaps ten minutes Clara and Hugh stood by the fence. The disease of +thinking that was making Hugh useless for the work of his age had swept +away many old things within him and he was not self-conscious in the +presence of his woman. When she told him of the struggle of the man of +another generation, striving to be born he put his arm about her and held +her close against his long body. For a time they stood in silence, and then +started to return to the house and sleep. As they went past the barns and +the bunkhouse where several men now slept they heard, as though coming out +of the past, the loud snoring of the rapidly ageing farm hand, Jim Priest, +and then above that sound and above the sound of the animals stirring in +the barns arose another sound, a sound shrill and intense, greetings +perhaps to an unborn Hugh McVey. For some reason, perhaps to announce a +shift in crews, the factories of Bidwell that were engaged in night work +set up a great whistling and screaming. The sound ran up the hillside and +rang in the ears of Hugh as, with his arm about Clara's shoulders, he went +up the steps and in at the farmhouse door. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Poor White, by Sherwood Anderson + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POOR WHITE *** + +This file should be named pwhit10.txt or pwhit10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, pwhit11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, pwhit10a.txt + +Produced by Eric Eldred, William Flis +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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