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diff --git a/9816-h/9816-h.htm b/9816-h/9816-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0bd63d5 --- /dev/null +++ b/9816-h/9816-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16140 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Lo, Michael! | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 175%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} +h3 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} + + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lo, Michael!, by Grace Livingston Hill</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Lo, Michael!</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Grace Livingston Hill</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 20, 2003 [EBook #9816]<br> +[Most recently updated: September 29, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Josephine Paolucci, +and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LO, MICHAEL! ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover"> +</div> + +<h1>Lo, Michael!</h1> + +<h2>by Grace Livingston Hill</h2> + +<hr> + +<h3>Contents</h3> + +<table style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">Chapter I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">Chapter II</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">Chapter III</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">Chapter IV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">Chapter V</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">Chapter VI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">Chapter VII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">Chapter VIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">Chapter IX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">Chapter X</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">Chapter XI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">Chapter XII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">Chapter XIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">Chapter XIV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">Chapter XV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">Chapter XVI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">Chapter XVII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">Chapter XVIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">Chapter XIX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">Chapter XX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">Chapter XXI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">Chapter XXII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">Chapter XXIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">Chapter XXIV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">Chapter XXV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">Chapter XXVI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">Chapter XXVII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">Chapter XXVIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">Chapter XXIX</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="letter"> +“But, lo, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me.” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +—DANIEL, 10:13. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap01"></a>Chapter I</h3> + +<p> +“Hi, there! Mikky! Look out!” +</p> + +<p> +It was an alert voice that called from a huddled group of urchins in the +forefront of the crowd, but the child flashed past without heeding, straight up +the stone steps where stood a beautiful baby smiling on the crowd. With his +bundle of papers held high, and the late morning sunlight catching his tangle +of golden hair, Mikky flung himself toward the little one. The sharp crack of a +revolver from the opposite curbstone was simultaneous with their fall. Then all +was confusion. +</p> + +<p> +It was a great stone house on Madison Avenue where the crowd had gathered. An +automobile stood before the door, having but just come quietly up, and the baby +girl three years old, in white velvet, and ermines, with her dark curls framed +by an ermine-trimmed hood, and a bunch of silk rosebuds poised coquettishly +over the brow vying with the soft roses of her cheeks came out the door with +her nurse for her afternoon ride. Just an instant the nurse stepped back to the +hall for the wrap she had dropped, leaving the baby alone, her dark eyes +shining like stars under the straight dark brows, as she looked gleefully out +in the world. It was just at that instant, as if by magic, that the crowd +assembled. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it would be better to say that it was just at that minute that the +crowd focused itself upon the particular house where the baby daughter of the +president of a great defaulting bank lived. More or less all the morning, men +had been gathering, passing the house, looking up with troubled or threatening +faces toward the richly laced windows, shaking menacing heads, muttering +imprecations, but there had been no disturbance, and no concerted crowd until +the instant the baby appeared. +</p> + +<p> +The police had been more or less vigilant all the morning but had seen nothing +to disturb them. The inevitable small boy had also been in evidence, with his +natural instinct for excitement. Mikky with his papers often found himself in +that quarter of a bright morning, and the starry eyes and dark curls of the +little child were a vision for which he often searched the great windows as he +passed this particular house: but the man with the evil face on the other side +of the street, resting a shaking hand against the lamp post, and sighting the +baby with a vindictive eye, had never been seen there before. It was Mikky who +noticed him first: Mikky, who circling around him innocently had heard his +imprecations against the rich, who caught the low-breathed oath as the baby +appeared, and saw the ugly look on the man’s face. With instant alarm he +had gone to the other side of the street, his eye upon the offender, and had +been the first to see the covert motion, the flash of the hidden weapon and to +fear the worst. +</p> + +<p> +But a second behind him his street companions saw his danger and cried out, too +late. Mikky had flung himself in front of the beautiful baby, covering her with +his great bundle of papers, and his own ragged, neglected little body; and +receiving the bullet intended for her, went down with her as she fell. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly all was confusion. +</p> + +<p> +A child’s cry—a woman’s scream—the whistle of the +police—the angry roar of the crowd who were like a pack of wild animals +that had tasted blood. Stones flew, flung by men whose wrongs had smothered in +their breasts and bred a fury of hate and murder. Women were trampled upon. Two +of the great plate glass windows crashed as the flying missiles entered the +magnificent home, regardless of costly lace and velvet hangings. +</p> + +<p> +The chauffeur attempted to run his car around the corner but was held up at +once, and discreetly took himself out of the way, leaving the car in the hands +of the mob who swarmed into it and over it, ruthlessly disfiguring it in their +wrath. There was the loud report of exploding tires, the ripping of costly +leather cushions, the groaning of fine machinery put to torture as the fury of +the mob took vengeance on the car to show what they would like to do to its +owner. +</p> + +<p> +Gone into bankruptcy! He! With a great electric car like that, and servants to +serve him! With his baby attired in the trappings of a queen and his house +swathed in lace that had taken the eyesight from many a poor lace-maker! He! +Gone into bankruptcy, and slipping away scot free, while the men he had robbed +stood helpless on his sidewalk, hungry and shabby and hopeless because the +pittances they had put away in his bank, the result of slavery and sacrifice, +were gone,—hopelessly gone! and they were too old, or too tired, or too +filled with hate, to earn it again. +</p> + +<p> +The crowd surged and seethed madly, now snarling like beasts, now rumbling +portentously like a storm, now babbling like an infant; a great emotional +frenzy, throbbing with passion, goaded beyond fear, desperate with need; +leaderless, and therefore the more dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +The very sight of that luxurious baby with her dancing eyes and happy smiles +“rolling in luxury,” called to mind their own little puny darling, +grimy with neglect, lean with want, and hollow-eyed with knowledge aforetime. +Why should one baby be pampered and another starved? Why did the +bank-president’s daughter have any better right to those wonderful furs +and that exultant smile than their own babies? A glimpse into the depths of the +rooms beyond the sheltering plate glass and drapery showed greater contrast +even than they had dreamed between this home and the bare tenements they had +left that morning, where the children were crying for bread and the wife +shivering with cold. Because they loved their own their anger burned the +fiercer; and for love of their pitiful scrawny babies that flower-like child in +the doorway was hated with all the vehemence of their untamed natures. Their +every breath cried out for vengeance, and with the brute instinct they sought +to hurt the man through his child, because they had been hurt by the wrong done +to their children. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman’s whistle had done its work, however. The startled inmates +of the house had drawn the beautiful baby and her small preserver within the +heavy carven doors, and borne them back to safety before the unorganized mob +had time to force their way in. Amid the outcry and the disorder no one had +noticed that Mikky had disappeared until his small band of companions set up an +outcry, but even then no one heard. +</p> + +<p> +The mounted police had arrived, and orders were being given. The man who had +fired the shot was arrested, handcuffed and marched away. The people were +ordered right and left, and the officer’s horses rode ruthlessly through +the masses. Law and order had arrived and there was nothing for the downtrodden +but to flee. +</p> + +<p> +In a very short time the square was cleared and guarded by a large force. Only +the newspaper men came and went without challenge. The threatening groups of +men who still hovered about withdrew further and further. The wrecked +automobile was patched up and taken away to the garage. The street became +quiet, and by and by some workmen came hurriedly, importantly, and put in +temporary protections where the window glass had been broken. +</p> + +<p> +Yet through it all a little knot of ragged newsboys stood their ground in front +of the house. Until quiet was restored they had evaded each renewed command of +officer or passer-by, and stayed there; whispering now and again in excited +groups and pointing up to the house. Finally a tall policeman approached them: +</p> + +<p> +“Clear out of this, kids!” he said not unkindly. +“Here’s no place for you. Clear out. Do you hear me? You +can’t stay here no longer:” +</p> + +<p> +Then one of them wheeled upon him. He was the tallest of them all, with fierce +little freckled face and flashing black eyes in which all the evil passions of +four generations back looked out upon a world that had always been harsh. He +was commonly known as fighting Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s in dare. He’s hurted. We kids can’t leave Mick +alone. He might be dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Just at that moment a physician’s runabout drew up to the door, and the +policeman fell back to let him pass into the house. Hard upon him followed the +bank president in a closed carriage attended by several men in uniform who +escorted him to the door and touched their hats politely as he vanished within. +Around the corners scowling faces haunted the shadows, and murmured +imprecations were scarcely withheld in spite of the mounted officers. A shot +was fired down the street, and several policemen hurried away. But through it +all the boys stood their ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s in dare. He’s hurted. I seen him fall. Maybe +he’s deaded. We kids want to take him away. Mikky didn’t do +nothin’, Mikky jes’ tried to save der little kid. Mikky’s a +good’un. You get the folks to put Mikky out here. We kids’ll take +him away.” +</p> + +<p> +The policeman finally attended to the fierce pleading of the ragamuffins. Two +or three newspaper men joined the knot around them and the story was presently +written up with all the racy touches that the writers of the hour know how to +use. Before night Buck, with his fierce black brows drawn in helpless defiance +was adorning the evening papers in various attitudes as the different snapshots +portrayed him, and the little group of newsboys and boot-blacks and +good-for-nothings that stood around him figured for once in the eyes of the +whole city. +</p> + +<p> +The small band held their place until forcibly removed. Some of them were +barefoot, and stood shivering on the cold stones, their little sickly, grimy +faces blue with anxiety and chill. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor came out of the house just as the last one, Buck, was being marched +off with loud-voiced protest. He eyed the boy, and quickly understood the +situation. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here!” he called to the officer. “Let me speak to the +youngster. He’s a friend, I suppose, of the boy that was shot?” +</p> + +<p> +The officer nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, boy, what’s all this fuss about?” He looked kindly, +keenly into the defiant black eyes of Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s hurted—mebbe deaded. I wants to take him away from +dare,” he burst forth sullenly. “We kids can’t go +off’n’ leave Mikky in dare wid de rich guys. Mikky didn’t do +no harm. He’s jes tryin’ to save de kid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky. Is that the boy that took the shot in place of the little +girl?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy nodded and looked anxiously into the kindly face of the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Yep. Hev you ben in dare? Did youse see Mikky? He’s got yaller +hair. Is Mikky deaded?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he isn’t dead,” said the physician kindly, “but +he’s pretty badly hurt. The ball went through his shoulder and arm, and +came mighty near some vital places. I’ve just been fixing him up +comfortably, and he’ll be all right after a bit, but he’s got to +lie very still right where he is and be taken care of.” +</p> + +<p> +“We kids’ll take care o’ Mikky!” said Buck proudly. +“He tooked care of Jinney when she was sick, an’ we’ll take +care o’ Mikky, all right, all right. You jes’ brang him out +an’ we’ll fetch a wheelbarry an’ cart him off’n yer +han’s. Mikky wouldn’t want to be in dare wid de rich guys.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear fellow,” said the doctor, quite touched by the earnestness +in Buck’s eyes, “that’s very good of you, I’m sure, and +Mikky ought to appreciate his friends, but he’s being taken care of +perfectly right where he is and he couldn’t be moved. It might kill him +to move him, and if he stays where he is he will get well. I’ll tell you +what I’ll do,” he added as he saw the lowering distress in the dumb +eyes before him, “I’ll give you a bulletin every day. You be here +tonight at five o’clock when I come out of the house and I’ll tell +you just how he is. Then you needn’t worry about him. He’s in a +beautiful room lying on a great big white bed and he has everything nice around +him, and when I came away he was sleeping. I can take him a message for you +when I go in tonight, if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +Half doubtfully the boy looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you tell Mikky to drop us down word ef he wants annythin’? +Will you ast him ef he don’t want us to git him out?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said the doctor in kindly amusement. “You trust me +and I’ll make good. Be here at five o’clock sharp and again +tomorrow at quarter to eleven.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s only a slum kid!” grumbled the officer. +“’Tain’t worth while to take so much trouble. ’Sides, +the folks won’t want um botherin’ ’round.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he’s all right!” said the doctor. “He’s a +friend worth having. You might need one yourself some day, you know. +What’s your name, boy? Who shall I tell Mikky sent the message?” +</p> + +<p> +“Buck,” said the child gravely, “Fightin’ Buck, they +calls me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very appropriate name, I should think,” said the doctor smiling. +“Well, run along Buck and be here at five o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly the boy moved off. The officer again took up his stand in front of +the house and quiet was restored to the street. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, in the great house consternation reigned for a time. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse maid had reached the door in time to hear the shot and see the +children fall. She barely escaped the bullet herself. She was an old servant of +the family and therefore more frightened for her charge than for herself. She +had the presence of mind to drag both children inside the house and shut and +lock the door immediately, before the seething mob could break in. +</p> + +<p> +The mistress of the house fell in a dead faint as they carried her little +laughing daughter up the stairs and a man and a maid followed with the boy who +was unconscious. The servants rushed hither and thither; the housekeeper had +the coolness to telephone the bank president what had happened, and to send for +the family physician. No one knew yet just who was hurt or how much. Mikky had +been brought inside because he blocked the doorway, and there was need for +instantly shutting the door. If it had been easier to shove him out the nurse +maid would probably have done that. But once inside common humanity bade them +look after the unconscious boy’s needs, and besides, no one knew as yet +just exactly what part Mikky had played in the small tragedy of the morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Where shall we take him?” said the man to the maid as they reached +the second floor with their unconscious burden. +</p> + +<p> +“Not here, Thomas. Here’s no place for him. He’s as dirty as +a pig. I can’t think what come over Morton to pull him inside, anyway. +His own could have tended to him. Besides, such is better dead!” +</p> + +<p> +They hurried on past the luxurious rooms belonging to the lady of the mansion; +up the next flight of stairs, and Norah paused by the bath-room door where the +full light of the hall windows fell upon the grimy little figure of the child +they carried. +</p> + +<p> +Norah the maid uttered an exclamation. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s not fit fer any place in this house. Look at his cloes. +They’ll have to be cut off’n him, and he needs to go in the +bath-tub before he can be laid anywheres. Let’s put him in the bath-room, +and do you go an’ call Morton. She got him in here and she’ll have +to bathe him. And bring me a pair of scissors. I’ll mebbe have to cut the +cloes off’n him, they’re so filthy. Ach! The little beast!” +</p> + +<p> +Thomas, glad to be rid of his burden, dropped the boy on the bath-room floor +and made off to call Morton. +</p> + +<p> +Norah, with little knowledge and less care, took no thought for the life of her +patient. She was intent on making him fit to put between her clean sheets. She +found the tattered garments none too tenacious in their hold to the little, +half-naked body. One or two buttons and a string were their only attachments. +Norah pulled them off with gingerly fingers, and holding them at arm’s +length took them to the bath-room window whence she pitched them down into the +paved court below, that led to the kitchen regions. Thomas could burn them, or +put them on the ash pile by and by. She was certain they would never go on +again, and wondered how they had been made to hold together this last time. +</p> + +<p> +Morton had not come yet, but Norah discovering a pool of blood under the little +bare shoulder, lifted him quickly into the great white bath-tub and turned on +the warm water. There was no use wasting time, and getting blood on white tiles +that she would have to scrub. She was not unkind but she hated dirt, and partly +supporting the child with one arm she applied herself to scrubbing him as +vigorously as possible with the other hand. The shock of the water, not being +very warm at first, brought returning consciousness to the boy for a moment, in +one long shuddering sigh. The eyelashes trembled for an instant on the white +cheeks, and his eyes opened; gazed dazedly, then wildly, on the strange +surroundings, the water, and the vigorous Irish woman who had him in her power. +He threw his arms up with a struggling motion, gasped as if with sudden pain +and lost consciousness again, relaxing once more into the strong red arm that +held him. It was just at this critical moment that Morton entered the +bath-room. +</p> + +<p> +Morton was a trim, apple-cheeked Scotch woman of about thirty years, with neat +yellow-brown hair coiled on the top of her head, a cheerful tilt to her +freckled nose, and eyes so blue that in company with her rosy cheeks one +thought at once of a flag. Heather and integrity exhaled from her very being, +flamed from her cheeks, spoke from her loyal, stubborn chin, and looked from +her trustworthy eyes. She had been with the bank president’s baby ever +since the little star-eyed creature came into the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Och! look ye at the poor wee’un!” she exclaimed. +“Ye’re hurtin’ him, Norah! Ye shouldn’t have bathed him +the noo! Ye should’ve waited the docther’s comin’. +Ye’ll mebbe kin kill him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ach! Get out with yer soft talk!” said Norah, scrubbing the more +vigorously. “Did yez suppose I’ll be afther havin’ all this +filth in the nice clean sheets? Get ye to work an’ he’p me. Do ye +hold ’im while I schrub!” +</p> + +<p> +She shifted the boy into the gentler arm’s of the nurse, and went to +splashing all the harder. Then suddenly, before the nurse could protest, she +had dashed a lot of foamy suds on the golden head and was scrubbing that with +all her might. +</p> + +<p> +“Och, Norah!” cried the nurse in alarm. “You shouldn’t +a done that! Ye’ll surely kill the bairn. Look at his poor wee shoulder a +bleedin’, and his little face so white an’ still. Have ye no mercy +at all, Norah? Rinse off that suds at once, an’ dry him softly. +What’ll the docther be sayin’ to ye fer all this I can’t +think. There, my poor bairnie,” she crooned to the child, softly drawing +him closer as though he were conscious,— +</p> + +<p> +“There, there my bairnie, it’ll soon be over. It’ll be all +right in just a minute, poor wee b’y! Poor wee b’y! There! +There—” +</p> + +<p> +But Norah did her perfect work, and made the little lean body glistening white +as polished marble, while the heavy hair hung limp like pale golden silk. +</p> + +<p> +The two women carried him to a bed in a large room at the back of the house, +not far from the nursery, and laid him on a blanket, with his shoulder stanched +with soft linen rags. Morton was softly drying his hair and crooning to the +child—although he was still unconscious—begging Norah to put the +blanket over him lest he catch cold; and Norah was still vigorously drying his +feet unmindful of Morton’s pleading, when the doctor entered with a +trained nurse. The boy lay white and still upon the blanket as the two women, +startled, drew back from their task. The body, clean now, and beautifully +shaped, might have been marble except for the delicate blue veins in wrists and +temples. In spite of signs of privation and lack of nutrition there was about +the boy a showing of strength in well developed muscles, and it went to the +heart to see him lying helpless so, with his drenched gold hair and his closed +eyes. The white limbs did not quiver, the lifeless fingers drooped limply, the +white chest did not stir with any sign of breath, and yet the tender lips that +curved in a cupid’s bow, were not altogether gone white. +</p> + +<p> +“What a beautiful child!” exclaimed the nurse involuntarily as she +came near the bed. “He looks like a young god!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s far more likely to be a young devil,” said the doctor +grimly, leaning over him with practised eyes, and laying a listening ear to the +quiet breast. Then, he started back. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s cold as ice! What have you been doing to him? It wasn’t +a case of drowning, was it? You haven’t been giving him a bath at such a +time as this, have you? Did you want to kill the kid outright?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oauch, the poor wee b’y!” sobbed Morton under her breath, +her blue eyes drenched with tears that made them like blue lakes. +“He’s like to my own wee b’y that I lost when he was a +baby,” she explained in apology to the trained nurse who was not, +however, regarding her in the least. +</p> + +<p> +Norah had vanished frightened to consult with Thomas. It was Morton who brought +the things the doctor called for, and showed the nurse where to put her +belongings; and after everything was done and the boy made comfortable and +brought back to consciousness, it was she who stood at the foot of the bed and +smiled upon him first in this new world to which he opened his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes were blue, heavenly blue and dark, but they were great with a brave +fear as he glanced about on the strange faces. He looked like a wild bird, +caught in a kindly hand,—a bird whose instincts held him still because he +saw no way of flight, but whose heart was beating frightfully against his +captor’s fingers. He looked from side to side of the room, and made a +motion to rise from the pillow. It was a wild, furtive motion, as of one who +has often been obliged to fly for safety, yet still has unlimited courage. +There was also in his glance the gentle harmlessness and appeal of the winged +thing that has been caught. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, youngster, you had a pretty close shave,” said the doctor +jovially, “but you’ll pull through all right! You feel comfortable +now?” +</p> + +<p> +The nurse was professionally quiet. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor wee b’y!” murmured Morton, her eyes drenched again. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked from one to another doubtfully. Suddenly remembrance dawned upon +him and comprehension entered his glance. He looked about the room and toward +the door. There was question in his eyes that turned on the doctor but his lips +formed no words. He looked at Morton, and knew her for the nurse of his baby. +Suddenly he smiled, and that smile seemed to light up the whole room, and +filled the heart of Morton with joy unspeakable. It seemed to her it was the +smile of her own lost baby come back to shine upon her. The tears welled, up +and the blue lakes ran over. The boy’s face was most lovely when he +smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is—de little kid?” It was Morton whose face he +searched anxiously as he framed the eager question, and the woman’s +intuition taught her how to answer. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s safe in her own wee crib takin’ her morning nap. +She’s just new over,” answered the woman reassuringly. +</p> + +<p> +Still the eyes were not satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +“Did she”—he began +slowly—“get—hurted?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, my bairnie, she’s all safe and sound as ever. It was your own +self that saved her life.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s face lit up and he turned from one to another contentedly. His +smile said: “Then I’m glad.” But not a word spoke his shy +lips. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a hero, kid!” said the doctor huskily. But the boy +knew little about heroes and did not comprehend. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse by this time had donned her uniform and rattled up starchily to take +her place at the bedside, and Morton and the doctor went away, the doctor to +step once more into the lady’s room below to see if she was feeling quite +herself again after her faint. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse leaned over the boy with a glass and spoon. He looked at it +curiously, unknowingly. It was a situation entirely outside his experience. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you take your medicine?” asked the nurse. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked at the spoon again as it approached his lips and opened them to +speak. +</p> + +<p> +“Is—” +</p> + +<p> +In went the medicine and the boy nearly choked, but he understood and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“A hospital?” he finished. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it’s only a house. They brought you in, you know, when you +were hurt out on the steps. You saved the little girl’s life. +Didn’t you know it?” she said kindly, her heart won by his smile. +</p> + +<p> +A beautiful look rewarded her. +</p> + +<p> +“Is de little kid—in this house?” he asked slowly, +wonderingly. It was as if he had asked if he were in heaven, there was so much +awe in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, she’s here,” answered the nurse lightly. +“Perhaps they’ll bring her in to see you sometime. Her +father’s very grateful. He thinks it showed wonderful courage in you to +risk your life for her sake.” +</p> + +<p> +But Mikky comprehended nothing about gratitude. He only took in the fact that +the beautiful baby was in the house and might come there to see him. He settled +to sleep quite happily with an occasional glad wistful glance toward the door, +as the long lashes sank on the white cheeks, for the first sleep the boy had +ever taken in a clean, white, soft bed. The prim nurse, softened for once from +her precise attention to duties, stood and looked upon the lovely face of the +sleeping child, wondered what his life had been, and how the future would be +for him. She half pitied him that the ball had not gone nearer to the vital +spot and taken him to heaven ere he missed the way, so angel-like his face +appeared in the soft light of the sick room, with the shining gold hair fluffed +back upon the pillow now, like a halo. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap02"></a>Chapter II</h3> + +<p> +Little Starr Endicott, sleeping in her costly lace-draped crib on her downy +embroidered pillow, knew nothing of the sin and hate and murder that rolled in +a great wave on the streets outside, and had almost touched her own little life +and blotted it out. She knew not that three notable families whose names were +interwoven in her own, and whose blood flowed in her tiny veins represented the +great hated class of the Rich, and that those upon whom they had climbed to +this height looked upon them as an evil to be destroyed; nor did she know that +she, being the last of the race, and in her name representing them all, was +hated most of all. +</p> + +<p> +Starr Delevan Endicott! It was graven upon her tiny pins and locket, upon the +circlet of gold that jewelled her finger, upon her brushes and combs; it was +broidered upon her dainty garments, and coverlets and cushions, and crooned to +her by the adoring Scotch nurse who came of a line that knew and loved an +aristocracy. The pride of the house of Starr, the wealth of the house of +Delevan, the glory of the house of Endicott, were they not all hers, this one +beautiful baby who lay in her arms to tend and to love. So mused Morton as she +hummed: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“O hush thee my babie, thy sire was a knight,<br> +Thy mother a ladie, both gentle and bright—” +</p> + +<p> +And what cared Morton that the mother in this case was neither gentle nor +bright, but only beautiful and selfish? It did but make the child the dearer +that she had her love to herself. +</p> + +<p> +And so the little Starr lay sleeping in her crib, and the boy, her preserver, +from nobody knew where, and of nobody knew what name or fame, lay sleeping +also. And presently Delevan Endicott himself came to look at them both. +</p> + +<p> +He came from the swirl of the sinful turbulent world outside, and from his +fretting, petted wife’s bedside. She had been fretting at him for +allowing a bank in which he happened to be president to do anything which +should cause such a disturbance outside her home, when he knew she was so +nervous. Not one word about the little step that had stood for an instant +between her baby and eternity. Her husband reminded her gently how near their +baby had come to death, and how she should rejoice that she was safe, but her +reply had been a rush of tears, and “Oh, yes, you always think of the +baby, never of me, your wife!” +</p> + +<p> +With a sigh the man had turned from his fruitless effort to calm her troubled +mind and gone to his little daughter. He had hoped that his wife would go with +him, but he saw the hopelessness of that idea. +</p> + +<p> +The little girl lay with one plump white arm thrown over her head, the curling +baby fingers just touching the rosy cheek, flushed with sleep. She looked like +a rosebud herself, so beautiful among the rose and lacey draperies of her +couch. Her dark curls, so fine and soft and wonderful, with their hidden purple +shadows, and the long dark curling lashes, to match the finely pencilled brows, +brought out each delicate feature of the lovely little face. The father, as he +looked down upon her, wondered how it could have been in the heart of any +creature, no matter how wicked, to put out this vivid little life. His little +Starr, his one treasure! +</p> + +<p> +The man that had tried to do it, could he have intended it really, or was it +only a random shot? The testimony of those who saw judged it intention. The +father’s quickened heart-beats told him it was, and he felt that the +thrust had gone deep. How they had meant to hurt him! How they must have hated +him to have wished to hurt him so! How they would have hurt his life +irretrievably if the shot had done its work. If that other little atom of human +life had not intervened! +</p> + +<p> +Where was the boy who had saved his child? He must go and see him at once. The +gratitude of a lifetime should be his. +</p> + +<p> +Morton divined his thought, as he stepped from the sacred crib softly after +bending low to sweep his lips over the rosy velvet of little Starr’s +cheek. With silent tread she followed her master to the door: +</p> + +<p> +“The poor wee b’y’s in the far room yon,” she said in a +soft whisper, and her tone implied that his duty lay next in that direction. +The banker had often noticed this gentle suggestion in the nurse’s voice, +it minded him of something in his childhood and he invariably obeyed it. He +might have resented it if it had been less humble, less trustfully certain that +of course that was the thing that he meant to do next. He followed her +direction now without a word. +</p> + +<p> +The boy had just fallen asleep when he entered, and lay as sweetly beautiful as +the little vivid beauty he had left in the other room. The man of the world +paused and instinctively exclaimed in wonder. He had been told that it was a +little gamin who had saved his daughter from the assassin’s bullet, but +the features of this child were as delicately chiseled, his form as finely +modeled, his hair as soft and fine as any scion of a noble house might boast. +He, like the nurse, had the feeling that a young god lay before him. It was so +that Mikky always had impressed a stranger even when his face was dirty and his +feet were bare. +</p> + +<p> +The man stood with bowed head and looked upon the boy to whom he felt he owed a +debt which he could never repay. +</p> + +<p> +He recognized the child as a representative of that great unwashed throng of +humanity who were his natural enemies, because by their oppression and by +stepping upon their rights when it suited his convenience, he had risen to +where he now stood, and was able to maintain his position. He had no special +feeling for them, any of them, more than if they had been a pack of wolves +whose fangs he must keep clear of, and whose hides he must get as soon as +convenient; but this boy was different! This spirit-child with the form of +Apollo, the beauty of Adonis, and the courage of a hero! Could he have come +from the hotbeds of sin and corruption? It could not be! Sure there must be +some mistake. He must be of good birth. Enquiry must be made. Had anyone asked +the child’s name and where he lived? +</p> + +<p> +Then, as if in answer to his thought, the dark blue eyes suddenly opened. He +found them looking at him, and started as he realized it, as if a picture on +which he gazed had suddenly turned out to be alive. And yet, for the instant, +he could not summon words, but stood meeting that steady searching gaze of the +child, penetrating, questioning, as if the eyes would see and understand the +very foundation principles on which the man’s life rested. The man felt +it, and had the sensation of hastily looking at his own motives in the light of +this child’s look. Would his life bear that burning appealing glance? +</p> + +<p> +Then, unexpectedly the child’s face lit up with his wonderful smile. He +had decided to trust the man. +</p> + +<p> +Never before in all his proud and varied experience had Delevan Endicott +encountered a challenge like that. It beat through him like a mighty army and +took his heart by storm, it flashed into his eyes and dazzled him. It was the +challenge of childhood to the fatherhood of the man. With a strange new impulse +the man accepted it, and struggling to find words, could only answer with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +A good deal passed between them before any words were spoken at all, a good +deal that the boy never forgot, and that the man liked to turn back to in his +moments of self-reproach, for somehow that boy’s eyes called forth the +best that was in him, and made him ashamed of other things. +</p> + +<p> +“Boy, who is your father?” at last asked the man huskily. He almost +dreaded to find another father owning a noble boy like this—and such a +father as he would be if it were true that he was only a street gamin. +</p> + +<p> +The boy still smiled, but a wistfulness came into his eyes. He slowly shook his +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead, is he?” asked the man more as if thinking aloud. But the boy +shook his head again. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no father,” he answered simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said the man, and a lump gathered in his throat. “Your +mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“No mother, never!” came the solemn answer. It seemed that he +scarcely felt that either of these were deep lacks in his assets. Very likely +fathers and mothers were not on the average desirable kindred in the +neighborhood from which he came. The man reflected and tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are your folks? They’ll be worried about you. We ought to send +them word you’re doing well?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked amazed, then a laugh rippled out. +</p> + +<p> +“No folks,” he gurgled, “on’y jest de kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your brothers and sisters?” asked Endicott puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“None o’ dem,” said Mikky. “Buck an’ me’re +pards. We fights fer de other kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know it’s wrong to fight?” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky stared. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott tried to think of something to add to his little moral homily, but +somehow could not. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very wrong to fight,” he reiterated lamely. +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s cherub mouth settled into firm lines. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s wronger not to, when de little kids is gettin’ hurt, +an’ de big fellers what ought ter work is stole away they bread, +an’ they’s hungry.” +</p> + +<p> +It was an entirely new proposition. It was the challenge of the poor against +the rich, of the weak against the strong, and from the lips of a mere babe. The +man wondered and answered not. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d fight fer your little kid!” declared the young logician. +He seemed to know by instinct that this was the father of his baby. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, now he had touched the responsive chord. The father’s face lit up. He +understood. Yes, it was right to fight for his baby girl, his little Starr, his +one treasure, and this boy had done it, given his life freely. Was that like +fighting for those other unloved, uncared-for, hungry darlings? Were they then +dear children, too, of somebody, of God, if nobody else? The boy’s eyes +were telling him plainly in one long deep look, that all the world of little +children at least was kin, and the grateful heart of the father felt that in +mere decency of gratitude he must acknowledge so much. Poor little hungry +babies. What if his darling were hungry! A sudden longing seized his soul to +give them bread at once to eat. But at least he would shower his gratitude upon +this one stray defender of their rights. +</p> + +<p> +He struggled to find words to let the child know of this feeling but only the +tears gathering quickly in his eyes spoke for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, my boy! You did fight for my little girl. I know, I’ll +never forget it of you as long as I live. You saved her life, and that’s +worth everything to me. Everything, do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +At last the words rushed forth, but his voice was husky, and those who knew him +would have declared him more moved than they had ever seen him. +</p> + +<p> +The boy understood. A slender brown hand stole out from the white coverlet and +touched his. Its outline, long and supple and graceful, spoke of patrician +origin. It was hard for the man of wealth and pride to realize that it was the +hand of the child of the common people, the people who were his enemies. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there anything you would like to have done for you, boy?” he +asked at last because the depth of emotion was more than he could bear. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked troubled. +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinkin’, ef Buck an’ them could see me, they’d +know ’twas all right. I’d like ’em fine to know how +’tis in here.” +</p> + +<p> +“You want me to bring them up to see you?” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Where can I find them, do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Buck, he won’t go fur, till he knows what’s comed o’ +me,” said the boy with shining confidence in his friend. +“He’d know I’d do that fur him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then it seemed there was such a thing as honor and loyalty among the lower +ranks of men—at least among the boys. The man of the world was learning a +great many things. Meekly he descended the two flights of stairs and went out +to his own front doorsteps. +</p> + +<p> +There were no crowds any more. The police were still on duty, but curious +passersby dared not linger long. The workmen had finished the windows and gone. +The man felt little hope of finding the boys, but somehow he had a strange +desire to do so. He wanted to see that face light up once more. Also, he had a +curious desire to see these youngsters from the street who could provoke such +loving anxiety from the hero upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky was right, Buck would not go far away until he knew how it was with his +comrade. He had indeed moved off at the officer’s word when the doctor +promised to bring him word later, but in his heart he did not intend to let a +soul pass in or out of that house all day that he did not see, and so he set +his young pickets here and there about the block, each with his bunch of +papers, and arranged a judicious change occasionally, to avoid trouble with the +officers. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was standing across the street on the corner by the church steps, making a +lively show of business now and then and keeping one eye on the house that had +swallowed up his partner. He was not slow to perceive that he was being +summoned by a man upon the steps, and ran eagerly up with his papers, expecting +to receive his coin, and maybe a glimpse inside the door. +</p> + +<p> +“All about der shootin’ of der bank millionaire’s +baby!” he yelled in his most finished voice of trade, and the father, +thinking of what might have been, felt a pang of horror at the careless words +from the gruff little voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know a boy named Buck?” he questioned as he deliberately +paid for the paper that was held up to him, and searched the unpromising little +face before him. Then marvelled at the sullen, sly change upon the dirty face. +</p> + +<p> +The black brows drew down forbodingly, the dark eyes reminded Mm of a caged +lion ready to spring if an opportunity offered. The child had become a man with +a criminal’s face. There was something frightful about the defiant look +with which the boy drew himself up. +</p> + +<p> +“What if I does?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that there’s a boy in here,” motioning toward the door, +“would like very much to see him for a few minutes. If you know where he +is, I wish you’d tell him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then there came a change more marvelous than before. It was as if the divine in +the soul had suddenly been revealed through a rift in the sinful humanity. The +whole defiant face became eager, the black eyes danced with question, the brows +settled into straight pleasant lines, and the mouth sweetened as with pleasant +thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Is’t Mikky?” He asked in earnest voice. “Kin we get +in? I’ll call de kids. He’ll want ’em. He allus wants der +kids.” He placed his fingers in his mouth, stretching it into a curious +shape, and there issued forth a shriek that might have come from the mouth of +an exulting fiend, so long and shrill and sharp it was. The man on the steps, +his nerves already wrought to the snapping point, started angrily. Then +suddenly around the corner at a swift trot emerged three ragged youngsters who +came at their leader’s command swiftly and eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky wants us!” explained Buck. “Now youse foller me, +’n don’t you say nothin’ less I tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +They fell in line, behind the bank president, and followed awed within the +portal that unlocked a palace more wonderful than Aladdin’s to their +astonished gaze. +</p> + +<p> +Up the stairs they slunk, single file, the bare feet and the illy-shod alike +going silently and sleuth-like over the polished stairs. They skulked past open +doors with frightened defiant glances, the defiance of the very poor for the +very rich, the defiance that is born and bred in the soul from a face to face +existence with hunger and cold and need of every kind. They were defiant but +they took it all in, and for many a day gave details highly embellished of the +palace where Mikky lay. It seemed to them that heaven itself could show no +grander sights. +</p> + +<p> +In a stricken row against the wall, with sudden consciousness of their own +delinquencies of attire, ragged caps in hands, grimy hands behind them, they +stood and gazed upon their fallen hero-comrade. +</p> + +<p> +Clean, they had never perhaps seen his face before. The white robe that was +upon him seemed a robe of unearthly whiteness. It dazzled their gaze. The +shining of his newly-washed hair was a glory crown upon his head. They saw him +gathered into another world than any they knew. It could have seemed no worse +to them if the far heaven above the narrow city streets had opened its grim +clouds and received their comrade from their sight. They were appalled. How +could he ever be theirs again? How could it all have happened in the few short +hours since Mikky flashed past them and fell a martyr to his kindly heart and +saved the wicked rich man his child? The brows of Buck drew together in his +densest frown. He felt that Mikky, their Mikky was having some terrible change +come upon him. +</p> + +<p> +Then Mikky turned and smiled upon them all, and in his dear familiar voice +shouted, “Say, kids, ain’t this grand? Say, I jes’ wish you +was all in it! Ef you, Buck, an’ the kids was here in this yer grand bed +I’d be havin’ the time o’ me life!” +</p> + +<p> +That turned the tide. Buck swallowed hard and smiled his darker smile, and the +rest grinned sheepishly. Grandeur and riches had not spoiled their prince. He +was theirs still and he had wanted them. He had sent for them. They gained +courage to look around on the spotlessly clean room, on the nurse in her +crackling dignity; on the dish of oranges which she promptly handed to them and +of which each in awe partook a golden sphere; on the handful of bright flowers +that Morton had brought but a few minutes before and placed on a little stand +by the bed; on the pictures that hung upon the walls, the like of which they +had never seen, before, and then back to the white white bed that held their +companion. They could not get used to the whiteness and the cleanness of his +clean, clean face and hands, and bright gold hair. It burned like a flame +against the pillow, and Mikky’s blue eyes seemed darker and deeper than +ever before. To Buck they had given their obedient following, and looked to him +for protection, but after all he was one like themselves, only a little more +fearless. To Mikky they all gave a kind of far-seeing adoration. He was +fearless and brave like Buck, but he was something more. In their superstitious +fear and ignorance he seemed to them almost supernatural. +</p> + +<p> +They skulked, silently down the stairs like frightened rabbits when the +interview was over, each clutching his precious orange, and not until the great +doors had closed upon them, did they utter a word. They had said very little. +Mikky had done all the talking. +</p> + +<p> +When they had filed down the street behind their leader, and rounded the corner +out of sight of the house, Buck gathered them into a little knot and said +solemnly: “Kids. I bet cher Mik don’t be comin’ out o’ +this no more. Didn’t you take notice how he looked jes’ like the +angel top o’ the monnemunt down to the cemtary?” +</p> + +<p> +The little group took on a solemnity that was deep and real. +</p> + +<p> +“Annyhow, he wanted us!” spoke up a curly-headed boy with old eyes +and a thin face. He was one whom Mikky had been won’t to defend. He bore +a hump upon his ragged back. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw! he’s all right fer us, is Mik,” said Buck, “but +he’s different nor us. Old Aunt Sal she said one day he were named fer a +’n’angel, an’ like as not he’ll go back where he +b’longs some day, but he won’t never fergit us. He ain’t like +rich folks what don’t care. He’s our pard allus. Come on, +fellers.” +</p> + +<p> +Down the back alley went the solemn little procession, single file, till they +reached the rear of the Endicott house, where they stood silent as before a +shrine, till at a signal from their leader, each grimy right hand was raised, +and gravely each ragged cap was taken off and held high in the air toward the +upper window, where they knew their hero-comrade lay. Then they turned and +marched silently away. +</p> + +<p> +They were all in place before the door whenever the doctor came thereafter, and +always went around by the way of the alley afterward for their ceremonial good +night, sometimes standing solemnly beneath the cold stars while the shrill wind +blew through their thin garments, but always as long as the doctor brought them +word, or as long as the light burned in the upper window, they felt their +comrade had not gone yet. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap03"></a>Chapter III</h3> + +<p> +Heaven opened for Mikky on the day when Morton, with the doctor’s +permission, brought Baby Starr to see him. +</p> + +<p> +The baby, in her nurse’s arms, gazed down upon her rescuer with the +unprejudiced eyes of childhood. Mikky’s smile flashed upon her and +forthwith she answered with a joyous laugh of glee. The beautiful boy pleased +her ladyship. She reached out her roseleaf hands to greet him. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse held her down to the bed: +</p> + +<p> +“Kiss the wee b’y, that’s a good baby. Kiss the wee +b’y. He took care of baby and saved her life when the bad man tried to +hurt her. Kiss the wee b’y and say ‘I thank you,’” +commanded Morton. +</p> + +<p> +The saving of her life meant nothing to little Starr, but she obediently +murmured ‘I’ee tank oo!’ as the nurse had drilled her to do +before she brought her, and then laid her moist pink lips on cheeks, forehead, +eyes and mouth in turn, and Mikky, in ecstasy, lay trembling with the pleasure +of it. No one had ever kissed him before. Kissing was not in vogue in the +street where he existed. +</p> + +<p> +Thereafter, every day until he was convalescent, Starr came to visit him. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees he grew accustomed to her gay presence enough to talk with her +freely as child with child. Her words were few and her tongue as yet quite +unacquainted with the language of this world; but perhaps that was all the +better, for their conversations were more of the spirit than of the tongue, +Mikky’s language, of circumstance, being quite unlike that of Madison +Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +Starr brought her wonderful electric toys and dolls, and Mikky looked at them +with wonder, yet always with a kind of rare indifference, because the child +herself was to him the wonder of all wonders, an angel spirit stooped to earth. +And every day, when the nurse carried her small charge away after her frolic +with the boy, she would always lift her up to the bed and say: +</p> + +<p> +“Now kiss the wee b’y, Baby Starr, and thank him again fer +savin’ yer life.” +</p> + +<p> +And Starr would lay her soft sweet mouth on his as tenderly and gravely as if +she understood the full import of her obligation. At such times Mikky would +watch her bright face as it came close to his, and when her lips touched his he +would close his eyes as if to shut out all things else from this sacred +ceremony. After Starr and Morton were gone the nurse was wont to look furtively +toward the bed and note the still, lovely face of the boy whose eyes were +closed as if to hold the vision and memory the longer. At such times her heart +would draw her strangely from her wonted formality and she would touch the boy +with a tenderness that was not natural to her. +</p> + +<p> +There were other times when Mr. Endicott would come and talk briefly with the +boy, just to see his eyes light and his face glow with that wonderful smile, +and to think what it would be if the boy were his own. Always Mikky enjoyed +these little talks, and when his visitor was gone he would think with +satisfaction that this was just the right kind of a father for his little +lovely Starr. He was glad the Baby Starr had a father. He had often wondered +what it would be like to have a father, and now he thought he saw what the +height of desire in a father might be. Not that he felt a great need for +himself in the way of fathers. He had taken care of himself since he could +remember and felt quite grown up and fathers usually drank; but a baby like +that needed a father, and he liked Starr’s father. +</p> + +<p> +But the dearest thing now in life for him was little Starr’s kisses. +</p> + +<p> +To the father, drawn first by gratitude to the boy who had saved his +child’s life, and afterwards by the boy’s own irresistible smile, +these frequent visits had become a pleasure. There had been a little boy before +Starr came to their home, but he had only lived a few weeks. The memory of that +golden, fuzzy head, the little appealing fingers, the great blue eyes of his +son still lingered bitterly in the father’s heart. When he first looked +upon this waif the fancy seized him that, perhaps his own boy would have been +like this had he lived, and a strange and unexpected tenderness entered his +heart for Mikky. He kept going to the little invalid’s room night after +night, pleasing himself with the thought that the boy was his own. +</p> + +<p> +So strong a hold did this fancy take upon the man’s heart that he +actually began to consider the feasibility of adopting the child and bringing +him up as his own—this, after he had by the aid of detectives, thoroughly +searched out all that was known of him and found that no one owned Mikky nor +seemed to care what became of him except Buck and his small following. And all +the time the child, well fed, well cared for, happier than he had ever dreamed +of being in all his little hard life, rapidly convalesced. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott came home one afternoon to find Mikky down in the reception room +dressed in black velvet and rare old lace, with his glorious sheaf of golden +hair which had grown during his illness tortured into ringlets, and an adoring +group of ladies gathered about him, as he stood with troubled, almost haughty +mien, and gravely regarded their maudlin sentimentalities. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott had paid no attention to the boy heretofore, and her sudden +interest in him came from a chance view of him as he sat up in a big chair for +the first time, playing a game with little Starr. His big eyes and beautiful +hair attracted her at once, and she lost no time in dressing him up like a doll +and making him a show at one of her receptions. +</p> + +<p> +When her husband remonstrated with her, declaring that such treatment would +ruin the spirit of any real boy, and spoil him for life, she shrugged her +shoulders indifferently, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what if it does? He’s nothing but a foundling. He ought to +be glad we are willing to dress him up prettily and play with him for a +while.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would you do with him after you were done using him for a toy? +Cast him aside?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why not?” with another shrug of her handsome shoulders. +“Or, perhaps we might teach him to be a butler or footman if you want to +be benevolent. He would be charming in a dark blue uniform!” +</p> + +<p> +The woman raised her delicate eyebrows, humming a light tune, and her husband +turned from her in despair. Was it nothing at all to her that this child had +saved the life of her baby? +</p> + +<p> +That settled the question of adoption. His wife would never be the one to bring +up the boy into anything like manhood. It was different with a girl—she +must of necessity be frivolous, he supposed. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning an old college friend came into his office, a plain man with a +pleasant face, who had not gone from college days to a bank presidency. He was +only a plain teacher in a little struggling college in Florida, and he came +soliciting aid for the college. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned from puzzling over the question of Mikky, to greet his old +friend whom he had not seen for twenty years. He was glad to see him. He had +always liked him. He looked him over critically, however, with his +successful-business-man-of-New-York point of view. He noticed the plain cheap +business suit, worn shiny in places, the shoes well polished but beginning to +break at the side, the plentiful sprinkling of gray hairs, and then his eyes +travelled to the kind, worn face of his friend. In spite of himself he could +not but feel that the man was happier than himself. +</p> + +<p> +He asked many questions, and found a keen pleasure in hearing all about the +little family of the other, and their happy united efforts to laugh off poverty +and have a good time anyway. Then the visitor told of the college, its +struggles, its great needs and small funds, how its orange crop, which was a +large part of its regular income, had failed that year on account of the frost, +and they were in actual need of funds to carry on the work of the immediate +school year. Endicott found his heart touched, though he was not as a rule a +large giver to anything. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d be glad to help you Harkness,” he said at last, +“but I’ve got a private benevolence on my hands just now that is +going to take a good deal of money, I’m afraid. You see we’ve +narrowly escaped a tragedy at our house—” and he launched into the +story of the shooting, and his own indebtedness to Mikky. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said the Professor, “you feel that you owe it to +that lad to put him in the way of a better life, seeing that he freely gave his +life for your child’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly!” said Endicott, “and I’d like to adopt him +and bring him up as my own, but it doesn’t seem feasible. I don’t +think my wife would feel just as I do about it, and I’m not sure +I’d be doing the best after all for the boy. To be taken from one extreme +to another might ruin him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Endicott, why don’t you combine your debt to the child with +benevolence and send him down to us for a few years to educate.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott sat up interestedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Could I do that; Would they take so young a child? He can’t be +over seven.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we would take him, I think. He’d be well cared for; and his +tuition in the prep department would help the institution along. Every little +helps, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott suddenly saw before him the solution of his difficulties. He entered +eagerly into the matter, talking over rates, plans and so on. An hour later it +was all settled. Mikky was to take a full course with his expenses all prepaid, +and a goodly sum placed in the bank for his clothing and spending money. He was +to have the best room the school afforded, at the highest price, and was to +take music and art and everything else that was offered, for Endicott meant to +do the handsome thing by the institution. The failure of the bank of which he +was president had in no wise affected his own private fortune. +</p> + +<p> +“If the boy doesn’t seem to develop an interest in some of these +branches, put some deserving one in his place, and put him at something +else,” he said. “I want him to have his try at everything, develop +the best that is in him. So we’ll pay for everything you’ve got +there, and that will help out some other poor boy perhaps, for, of course one +boy can’t do everything. I’ll arrange it with my lawyer that the +payments shall be made regularly for the next twelve years, so that if anything +happens to me, or if this boy runs away or doesn’t turn out worthy, you +will keep on getting the money just the same, and some one else can come in on +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Professor Harkness went away from the office with a smile on his face and in +his pocket three letters of introduction to wealthy benevolent business men of +New York. Mikky was to go South with him the middle of the next week. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott went home that afternoon with relief of mind, but he found in his +heart a most surprising reluctance to part with the beautiful boy. +</p> + +<p> +When the banker told Mikky that he was going to send him to +“college,” and explained to him that an education would enable him +to become a good man and perhaps a great one, the boy’s face was very +grave. Mikky had never felt the need of an education, and the thought of going +away from New York gave him a sensation as if the earth were tottering under +his feet. He shook his head doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Kin I take Buck an’ de kids?” he asked after a thoughtful +pause, and with a lifting of the cloud in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Endicott. “It costs a good deal to go away to +school, and there wouldn’t be anyone to send them.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s eyes grew wide with something like indignation, and he shook his +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Nen I couldn’t go,” he said decidedly. “I +couldn’t take nothin’ great like that and not give de kids any. +We’ll stick together. I’ll stay wid de kids. They needs me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mikky—” the man looked into the large determined eyes +and settled down for combat—“you don’t understand, boy. It +would be impossible for them to go. I couldn’t send them all, but I +<i>can</i> send you, and I’m going to, because you risked your life to +save little Starr.” +</p> + +<p> +“That wasn’t nothin’ t’all!” declared Mikky with +fine scorn. +</p> + +<p> +“It was everything to me,” said the man, “and I want to do +this for you. And boy, it’s your duty to take this. It’s +everybody’s duty to take the opportunities for advancement that come to +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky looked at him thoughtfully. He did not understand the large words, and +duty meant to him a fine sense of loyalty to those who had been loyal to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I got to stay wid de kids,” he said. “Dey needs me.” +</p> + +<p> +With an exasperated feeling that it was useless to argue against this calmly +stated fact, Endicott began again gently: +</p> + +<p> +“But Mikky, you can help them a lot more by going to college than by +staying at home.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s eyes looked unconvinced but he waited for reasons. +</p> + +<p> +“If you get to be an educated man you will be able to earn money and help +them. You can lift them up to better things; build good houses for them to live +in; give them work to do that will pay good wages, and help them to be good +men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you educated?” +</p> + +<p> +Thinking he was making progress Endicott nodded eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that wot you does fer folks?” The bright eyes searched his face +eagerly, keenly, doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +The color flooded the bank-president’s cheeks and forehead uncomfortably. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,—I might—” he answered. “Yes, I might do a +great deal for people, I suppose. I don’t know as I do much, but I could +if I had been interested in them.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused. He realized that the argument was weakened. Mikky studied his face. +</p> + +<p> +“But dey needs me now, de kids does,” he said gravely, +“Jimmie, he don’t have no supper most nights less’n I share; +and Bobs is so little he can’t fight dem alley kids; n’ sometimes I +gets a flower off’n the florist’s back door fer little sick Jane. +Her’s got a crutch, and can’t walk much anyhow; and cold nights me +an’ Buck we sleeps close. We got a box hid away where we sleeps close +an’ keeps warm.” +</p> + +<p> +The moisture gathered in the eyes of the banker as he listened to the innocent +story. It touched his heart as nothing ever had before. He resolved that after +this his education and wealth should at least help these little slum friends of +Mikky to an occasional meal, or a flower, or a warm bed. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you get Buck to take your place with the kids while you go to +school and get an education and learn how to help them better.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s golden head negatived this slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck, he’s got all he kin do to git grub fer hisse’f +an’ his sister Jane. His father is bad, and kicks Jane, and don’t +get her nothin’ to eat. Buck he has to see after Janie.” +</p> + +<p> +“How would it be for you to pay Buck something so that he could take your +place? I will give you some money that you may do as you like with, and you can +pay Buck as much as you think he needs every week. You can send it to him in a +letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be as much as a quarter?” Mikky held his breath in wonder +and suspense. +</p> + +<p> +“Two quarters if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! could I do that?” The boy’s face fairly shone, and he +came and threw his arms about Endicott’s neck and laid his face against +his. The man clasped him close and would fain have kept him there, for his well +ordered heart was deeply stirred. +</p> + +<p> +Thus it was arranged. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was invited to an interview, but when the silver half dollar was laid in +his grimy palm, and he was made to understand that others were to follow, and +that he was to step up into Mikky’s place in the community of the +children while that luminary went to “college” to be educated, his +face wore a heavy frown. He held out the silver sphere as if it burned him. +What! Take money in exchange for Mikky’s bright presence? Never! +</p> + +<p> +It took a great deal of explanation to convince Buck that anything could be +better “fer de kids” than Mikky, their own Mikky, now and forever. +He was quick, however, to see where the good lay for Mikky, and after a few +plain statements from Mr. Endicott there was no further demur on the part of +the boy. Buck was willing to give up Mikky for Mikky’s good but not for +his own. But it was a terrible sacrifice. The hard little face knotted itself +into a fierce expression when he came to say good-bye. The long scrawny throat +worked convulsively, the hands gripped each other savagely. It was like handing +Mikky over to another world than theirs, and though he confidently promised to +return to them so soon as the college should have completed the mysterious +process of education, and to live with them as of yore, sleeping in +Buck’s box alongside, and taking care of the others when the big alley +kids grew troublesome, somehow an instinct taught them that he would never +return again. They had had him, and they would never forget him, but he would +grow into a being far above them. They looked vindictively at the great rich +man who had perpetrated this evil device of a college life for their comrade. +It was the old story of the helpless poor against the powerful rich. Even +heart-beats counted not against such power. Mikky must go. +</p> + +<p> +They went to the great station on the morning when Mikky was to depart and +stood shivering and forlorn until the train was called. They listened sullenly +while Professor Harkness told them that if they wished to be fit to associate +with their friend when he came out of college they must begin at once to +improve all their opportunities. First of all they must go to school, and study +hard, and then their friend in college would be proud to call them friends. +They did not think it worth while to tell the kindly but ignorant professor +that they had no time for school, and no clothes to wear if they had the time +or the inclination to go. Schools were everywhere, free, of course, but it did +not touch them. They lived in dark places and casual crannies, like weeds or +vermin. No one cared whether they went to school. No one suggested it. They +would have as soon thought of entering a great mansion and insisting on their +right to live there as to present themselves at school. Why, they had to hustle +for a mere existence. They were the water rats, the bad boys, the embryo +criminals for the next generation. The problem, with any who thought of them +was how to get rid of them. But of course this man from another world did not +understand. They merely looked at him dully and wished he would walk away and +leave Mikky to them while he stayed. His presence made it seem as if their +companion were already gone from them. +</p> + +<p> +It was hard, too, to see Mikky dressed like the fine boys on Fifth Avenue, +handsome trousers and coat, and a great thick overcoat, a hat on his shining +crown of hair that had always been guiltless of cap, thick stockings and +shining shoes on his feet that had always been bare and soiled with the grime +of the streets—gloves on his hands. This was a new Mikky. “The +kids” did not know him. In spite of their best efforts they could not be +natural. Great lumps arose in their throats, lumps that never dared arise for +hunger or cold or curses at home. +</p> + +<p> +They stood helpless before their own consciousness, and Mikky, divining the +trouble with that exquisite keenness of a spirit sent from heaven to make earth +brighter, conceived the bright idea of giving each of his comrades some article +of his apparel as a remembrance. Mr. Endicott came upon the scene just in time +to keep Mikky from taking off his overcoat and enveloping Buck in its elegant +folds. He was eagerly telling them that Bobs should have his undercoat, Jimmie +his hat; they must take his gloves to Jane, and there was nothing left for Sam +but his stockings and shoes, but he gave them all willingly. He seemed to see +no reason why he could not travel hatless and coatless, bare of foot and hand, +for had he not gone that way through all the years of his existence? It was a +small thing to do, for his friends whom he was leaving for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +The bright face clouded when he was told he could not give these things away, +that it would not be fair to the kind professor to ask him to carry with him a +boy not properly dressed. But he smiled again trustfully when Endicott promised +to take the whole group to a clothing house and fit them out. +</p> + +<p> +They bade Mikky good-bye, pressing their grimy noses against the bars of the +station gate to watch their friend disappear from their bare little lives. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott himself felt like crying as he came back from seeing the boy aboard +the train. Somehow it went hard for him to feel, he should not meet the bright +smile that night when he went home. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not the way of “the kids” to cry when tragedy fell among +them. They did not cry now—when he came back to them they regarded the +banker with lowering brows as the originator of their bereavement. They had no +faith in the promised clothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, what’s he givin’ us!” Buck had breathed under his +breath. But to do Buck credit he had not wanted to take Mikky’s coat from +him. When their comrade went from them into another walk in life he must go +proudly apparelled. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott led the huddled group away from the station, to a clothing house, and +amused himself by fitting them out. The garments were not of as fine material, +nor elegant a cut as those he had pleased himself by purchasing for +Mikky’s outfit, but they were warm and strong and wonderful to their +eyes, and one by one the grimy urchins went into a little dressing room, +presently emerging with awe upon their faces to stand before a tall mirror +surveying themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott presently bade the little company farewell and with a conscience at +ease with himself and all mankind left them. +</p> + +<p> +They issued from the clothing house with scared expressions and walked solemnly +a few blocks. Then Buck called them to a halt before a large plate glass +show-window. +</p> + +<p> +“Take a good look at yersel’s, kids,” he ordered, +“an’ we’ll go up to the Park an’ shine around, +an’ see how ther swells feels, then we’ll go down to Sheeny’s +an’ sell ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sell ’em! Can’t we keep ’em?” pitifully demanded +Bobs who had never felt warm in winter in all his small life before. +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t hev ’em long,” sneered Buck. “That +father o’ yourn would hey ’em pawned ’afore night; You better +enjoy ’em a while, an’ then git the money. It’s safer!” +</p> + +<p> +The children with wisdom born of their unhappy circumstances recognized this +truth. They surveyed themselves gravely in their fleeting grandeur and then +turned to walk up to the aristocratic part of town, a curious little +procession. They finished by rounding the Madison Avenue block, marched up the +alley, and gave the salute with new hats toward the window where their Prince +and Leader used to be. He was no longer there, but his memory was about them, +and the ceremony did their bursting little hearts good. Their love for Mikky +was the noblest thing that had so far entered their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Jimmie suggested that they must let Jane see them before they disposed forever +of their elegant garments, so Bobs, minus coat, hat, stockings and shoes was +sent to bid her to a secluded retreat at the far end of the alley. Bobs hurried +back ahead of her little tapping crutch to don his fine attire once more before +she arrived. +</p> + +<p> +Little Jane, sallow of face, unkempt of hair, tattered of clothing and +shivering in the cold twilight stood and watched the procession of pride as it +passed and repassed before her delighted eyes. The festivity might have been +prolonged but that the maudlin voice of Bobs’ father reeling into the +alley struck terror to their hearts, and with small ceremony they scuttled away +to the pawnshop, leaving little Jane to hobble back alone to her cellar and +wonder how it would feel to wear a warm coat like one of those. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee!” said Jimmie as they paused with one consent before the shop +door, and looked reluctantly down at their brief glory, “Gee! I wisht we +could keep jest one coat fer little Jane!” +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t we hide it some’ere’s?” asked Sam, and +they all looked at Buck. +</p> + +<p> +Buck, deeply touched for his sister’s sake, nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep Jim’s,” he said huskily, “it’ll do her +best.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the little procession filed proudly in and gave up their garments to the +human parasite who lived on the souls of other men, and came away bearing the +one coat they had saved for Janie, each treasuring a pitiful bit of money which +seemed a fortune in their eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Little Jane received her gift with true spirit when it was presented, skilfully +hid it from her inhuman father, and declared that each boy should have a turn +at wearing the coat every Sunday at some safe hour, whereat deep satisfaction, +reigned among them. Their grandeur was not all departed after all. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, Mikky, in his luxurious berth in a sleeper, smiled drowsily to think +of the fine new clothes that his friends must be wearing, and then fell asleep +to dream of little Starr’s kisses on his closed eyelids. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap04"></a>Chapter IV</h3> + +<p> +Into a new world came Mikky, a world of blue skies, song birds, and high, tall +pines with waving moss and dreamy atmosphere; a world of plenty to eat and +wear, and light and joy and ease. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was a most bewildering world to the boy, and for the first week he stood +off and looked at it questioningly, suspiciously. True, there were no dark +cellars or freezing streets, no drunken fathers or frightened children, or +blows, or hunger or privation; but this education he had come to seek that he +might go back to his own world and better it, was not a garment one put on and +exercised in so many times a day; it was not a cup from which one drank, nor an +atmosphere that one absorbed. It was a strange, imperceptible thing got at in +some mysterious way by a series of vague struggles followed by sudden and +almost alarming perceptions. For a time it seemed to the boy, keen though his +mind, and quick, that knowledge was a thing only granted to the few, and his +was a mind that would never grasp it. How, for instance, did one know how to +make just the right figures under a line when one added a long perplexity of +numbers? Mikky the newsboy could tell like a flash how much change he needed to +return to the fat gentleman who occasionally gave him a five-dollar bill to +change on Broadway; but Mikky the scholar, though he knew figures, and was able +to study out with labor easy words in his papers, had never heard of adding up +figures in the way they did here, long rows of them on the blackboard. It +became necessary that this boy should have some private instruction before he +would be able to enter classes. Professor Harkness himself undertook the task, +and gradually revealed to the child’s neglected understanding some of the +simple rudiments that would make his further progress possible. The sum that +was paid for his tuition made it quite necessary that the boy advance +reasonably, for his benefactor had made it understood that he might some day +visit the institution and see how he was getting on. So great pains were taken +to enlighten Mikky’s darkness. +</p> + +<p> +There was another thing that the boy could not understand, and that was the +discipline that ruled everywhere. He had always been a law unto himself, his +only care being to keep out of the way of those who would interfere with this. +Now he must rise with a bell, stay in his room until another bell, eat at a +bell, go to the hard bench in the schoolroom with another bell, and even play +ball when the recreation bell rang. It was hard on an independent spirit to get +used to all this, and while he had no mind to be disorderly, he often broke +forth into direct disobedience of the law from sheer misunderstanding of the +whole régime. +</p> + +<p> +The boys’ dormitory was presided over by a woman who, while thorough in +all housekeeping arrangements, had certainly mistaken her calling as a +substitute mother for boys. She kept their clothes in order, saw to it that +their rooms were aired, their stockings darned and their lights out at exactly +half-past nine, but the grimness of her countenance forbade any familiarity, +and she never thought of gaining the confidence of her rough, but affectionate +charges. There was no tenderness in her, and Mikky never felt like smiling in +her presence. He came and went with a sort of high, unconscious superiority +that almost irritated the woman, because she was not great enough to see the +unusual spirit of the child; and as a consequence she did not win his heart. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not miss the lack of motherliness in her, for he had never known a +mother and was not expecting it. +</p> + +<p> +The professors he grew to like, some more, some less, always admiring most +those who seemed to him to deal in a fair and righteous manner with their +classes—fairness being judged by the code in use among “the +kids” in New York. But that was before he grew to know the president. +After that his code changed. +</p> + +<p> +His first interview with that dignitary was on an afternoon when he had been +overheard by the matron to use vile language among the boys at the noon hour. +She hauled him up with her most severe manner, and gave him to understand that +he must answer to the president for his conduct. +</p> + +<p> +As Mikky had no conception of his offence he went serenely to his fate walking +affably beside her, only wishing she would not look so sour. As they crossed +the campus to the president’s house a blue jay flew overhead, and a +mocking bird trilled in a live oak near-by. The boy’s face lighted with +joy and he laughed out gleefully, but the matron only looked the more severe, +for she thought him a hardened little sinner who was defying her authority and +laughing her to scorn. After that it was two years before she could really +believe anything good of Mikky. +</p> + +<p> +The president was a noble-faced, white-haired scholar, with a firm tender +mouth, a brow of wisdom, and eyes of understanding. He was not the kind who win +by great athletic prowess, he was an old-fashioned gentleman, well along in +years, but young in heart. He looked at the child of the slums and saw the +angel in the clay. +</p> + +<p> +He dismissed the matron with a pleasant assurance and took Mikky to an inner +office where he let the boy sit quietly waiting a few minutes till he had +finished writing a letter. If the pen halted and the kind eyes furtively +studied the beautiful face of the child, Mikky never knew it. +</p> + +<p> +The president asked the boy to tell him what he had said, and Mikky, with sweet +assurance repeated innocently the terrible phrases he had used, phrases which +had been familiar to him since babyhood, conveying statements of facts that +were horrible, but nevertheless daily happenings in the corner of the world +where he had brought himself up. +</p> + +<p> +With rare tact the president questioned the boy, until he made sure there was +no inherent rottenness in him: and then gently and kindly, but firmly laid down +the law and explained why it was right and necessary that there should be a +law. He spoke of the purity of God. Mikky knew nothing of God and listened with +quiet interest. The president talked of education and culture and made matters +very plain indeed. Then when the interview was concluded and the man asked the +boy for a pledge of good faith and clean language from that time forth, +Mikky’s smile of approval blazed forth and he laid his hand in that of +the president readily enough, and went forth from the room with a great secret +admiration of the man with whom he had just talked. The whole conversation had +appealed to him deeply. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky sought his room and laboriously spelled out with lately acquired +clumsiness a letter to Buck: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Dear Buck we mussent yuz endecent langwidg enay moor ner swar. God donte +lyk it an’ it ain’t educated. I want you an’ me to be +educate. I ain’t gone to, donte yoo ner let de kids.—<br> +Mikky.” +</p> + +<p> +In due time, according to previous arrangement about the monthly allowance, +this letter reached Buck, and he tracked the doctor for two whole days before +he located him and lay in wait till he came out to his carriage, when he made +bold to hand over the letter to be read. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, deeply touched, translated as best he could. Buck’s education +had been pitifully neglected. He watched the mystic paper in awe as the doctor +read. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’s indecent langwidge?” he asked with his heavy frown. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor took the opportunity to deliver a brief sermon on purity, and Buck, +without so much as an audible thank you, but with a thoughtful air that pleased +the doctor, took back his letter, stuffed it into his ragged pocket and went on +his way. The man watched him wistfully, wondering whether Mikky’s appeal +could reach the hardened little sinner; and, sighing at the wickedness of the +world, went on his way grimly trying to make a few things better. +</p> + +<p> +That night “the kids” were gathered in front of little +Janie’s window, for she was too weak to go out with them, and Buck +delivered a lesson in ethical culture. Whatever Mikky, their Prince, ordered, +that must be done, and Buck was doing his level best, although for the life of +him he couldn’t see the sense in it. But thereafter none of “the +kids” were allowed to use certain words and phrases, and swearing +gradually became eliminated from their conversation. It would have been a +curious study for a linguist to observe just what words and phrases were cut +out, and what were allowed to flourish unrebuked; but nevertheless it was a +reform, and Buck was doing his best. +</p> + +<p> +With his schoolmates Mikky had a curiously high position even from the first. +His clothes were good and he had always a little money to spend. That had been +one of Endicott’s wishes that the boy should be like other boys. It meant +something among a group of boys, most of whom were the sons of rich fathers, +sent down to Florida on account of weak lungs or throats. Moreover, he was +brave beyond anything they had ever seen before, could fight like a demon in +defense of a smaller boy, and did not shrink from pitching into a fellow twice +his size. He could tell all about the great base-ball and foot-ball games of +New York City, knew the pitchers by name and yet did not boast uncomfortably. +He could swim like a duck and dive fearlessly. He could outrun them all, by his +lightness of foot, and was an expert in gliding away from any hand that sought +to hold him back. They admired him from the first. +</p> + +<p> +His peculiar street slang did not trouble them in the least, nor his lack of +class standing, though that presently began to be a thing of the past, for +Mikky, so soon as he understood the way, marched steadily, rapidly, up the hill +of knowledge, taking in everything that was handed out to him and assimilating +it. It began to look as if there would not be any left over courses in the +curriculum that might be given to some other deserving youth. Mikky would need +them all. The president and the professors began presently to be deeply +interested in this boy without a past; and everywhere, with every one, +Mikky’s smile won his way; except with the matron, who had not forgiven +him that her recommendation of his instant dismissal from the college had not +been accepted. +</p> + +<p> +The boys had not asked many questions about him, nor been told much. They knew +his father and mother were dead. They thought he had a rich guardian, perhaps a +fortune some day coming, they did not care. Mikky never spoke about any of +these things and there was a strange reticence about him that made them dislike +to ask him questions; even, when they came to know him well. He was entered +under the name of Endicott, because, on questioning him Professor Harkness +found he could lay no greater claim to any other surname, and called him that +until he could write to Mr. Endicott for advice. He neglected to write at once +and then, the name having become fastened upon the boy, he thought it best to +let the matter alone as there was little likelihood of Mr. Endicott’s +coming down to the college, and it could do no harm. He never stopped to think +out possible future complications and the boy became known as Michael Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +But his companions, as boys will, thought the matter over, and rechristened him +“Angel”; and Angel, or Angel Endy he became, down to the end of his +college course. +</p> + +<p> +One great delight of his new life was the out-of-door freedom he enjoyed. A +beautiful lake spread its silver sheet at the foot of the campus slope and here +the boy revelled in swimming and rowing. The whole country round was filled +with wonder to his city-bred eyes. He attached himself to the teacher of +natural sciences, and took long silent tramps for miles about. They penetrated +dense hammocks, gathering specimens of rare orchids and exquisite flowers; they +stood motionless and breathless for hours watching and listening to some +strange wild bird; they became the familiar of slimy coiling serpents in dark +bogs, and of green lizards and great black velvet spiders; they brought home +ravishing butterflies and moths of pale green and gold and crimson. +Mikky’s room became a museum of curious and wonderful things, and himself +an authority on a wide and varied range of topics. +</p> + +<p> +The new life with plenty of wholesome plain food, plenty of fresh air, long +nights of good sleep, and happy exercise were developing the young body into +strength and beauty, even as the study and contact, with life were developing +the mind. Mikky grew up tall and straight and strong. In all the school, even +among the older boys, there was none suppler, none so perfectly developed. His +face and form were beautiful as Adonis, and yet it was no pink and white +feminine beauty. There was strength, simplicity and character in his face. With +the acceptance of his new code of morals according to the president, had grown +gradually a certain look of high moral purpose. No boy in his presence dared +use language not up to the standard. No boy with his knowledge dared do a mean +or wrong thing. And yet, in spite of this, not a boy in the school but admired +him and was more or less led by him. If he had been one whit less brave, one +shade more conscious of self and self’s interests, one tiny bit +conceited, this would not have been. But from being a dangerous experiment in +their midst Mikky became known as a great influence for good. The teachers saw +it and marvelled. The matron saw it and finally, though grudgingly, accepted +it. The president saw it and rejoiced. The students saw it not, but +acknowledged it in their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s flame of gold hair had grown more golden and flaming with the +years, so that when their ball team went to a near-by town to play, Mikky was +sighted by the crowd and pointed out conspicuously at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is that boy with the hair?” some one would ask one of the +team. +</p> + +<p> +“That? Oh, that’s the Angel! Wait till you see him play,” +would be the reply. And he became known among outsiders as the Angel with the +golden hair. At a game a listener would hear: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, see! see! There’ll be something doing now. The Angel’s +at the bat!” +</p> + +<p> +Yet in spite of all this the boy lived a lonely life. Giving of himself +continually to those about him, receiving in return their love and devotion, he +yet felt in a great sense set apart from them all. Every now and again some +boy’s father or mother, or both, would come down for a trip through the +South; or a sister or a little brother. Then that boy would be excused from +classes and go off with his parents for perhaps a whole week; or they would +come to visit him every day, and Michael would look on and see the love light +beaming in their eyes. That would never be for him. No one had ever loved him +in that way. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to get back in memory to the time +when he was shot; and the wonder of the soft bed, the sweet room, and little +Starr’s kisses. But the years were multiplying now and room and nurse and +all were growing very dim. Only little Starr’s kisses remained, a +delicate fragrance of baby love, the only kisses that the boy had ever known. +One day, when a classmate had been telling of the coming of his father and what +it would mean to him, Michael went into his room and locking his door sat down +and wrote a stiff school boy letter to his benefactor, thanking him for all +that he had done for him. It told briefly, shyly of a faint realization of that +from which he had been saved; it showed a proper respect, and desire to make +good, and it touched the heart of the busy man who had almost forgotten about +the boy, but it gave no hint of the heart hunger which had prompted its +writing. +</p> + +<p> +The next winter, when Michael was seventeen, Delevan Endicott and his daughter +Starr took a flying trip through the South, and stopped for a night and a day +at the college. +</p> + +<p> +The president told Michael of his expected coming. Professor Harkness had gone +north on some school business. +</p> + +<p> +The boy received the news quietly enough, with one of his brilliant smiles, but +went to his room with a tumult of wonder, joy, and almost fear in his heart. +Would Mr. Endicott be like what he remembered, kind and interested and helpful? +Would he be pleased with the progress his protégé had made, or would he be +disappointed? Would there be any chance to ask after little Starr? She was a +baby still in the thoughts of the boy, yet of course she must have grown. And +so many things might have happened—she might not be living now. No one +would think or care to tell him. +</p> + +<p> +Baby Starr! His beautiful baby! He exulted in the thought that he had flung his +little useless life, once, between her lovely presence and death! He would do +it again gladly now if that would repay all that her father had done for him. +Michael the youth was beginning to understand all that that meant. +</p> + +<p> +Those other friends of his, Buck, Jimmie, Bobs, and the rest, were still +enshrined in his faithful heart, though their memory had grown dimmer with the +full passing years. Faithfully every month the boy had sent Buck two dollars +from his pocket money, his heart swelling with pleasure that he was helping +those he loved, but only twice had any word come back from that far city where +he had left them. In answer to the letter which the doctor had translated to +them, there had come a brief laborious epistle, terse and to the point, written +with a stub of pencil on the corner of a piece of wrapping paper, and addressed +by a kindly clerk at the post office where Buck bought the stamped envelope. It +was the same clerk who usually paid to the urchin his monthly money order, so +he knew the address. For the inditing of the letter Buck went to night school +two whole weeks before he could master enough letters and words to finish it to +his satisfaction, It read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Deer Mik WE WunT +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Buck.” +</p> + +<p> +The significant words filled the boy’s heart with pride over his friend +whenever he thought of it, even after some time had passed. He had faith in +Buck. Somehow in his mind it seemed that Buck was growing and keeping pace with +him, and he never dreamed that if Buck should see him now he would not +recognize him. +</p> + +<p> +When Mikky had been in Florida several years another letter had come from Buck +addressed in the same way, and little better written than the other. Night +school had proved too strenuous for Buck; besides, he felt he knew enough for +all practical purposes and it was not likely he would need to write many +letters. This, however, was an occasion that called for one. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Dear Mikky Jany is DEAD sHe sayd tell yo hur LUV beeryd hur in owr kote +we giv hur ther wuz a angle wit pink wins on top uv the wite hurs an a wite +hors we got a lot uv flowers by yur money so yo needn sen no mor money kuz we +ken got long now til yo cum BUCK.” +</p> + +<p> +After that, though Michael had written as usual every month for some time no +reply had come, and the money orders had been returned to him as not called +for. Buck in his simplicity evidently took it for granted that Mikky would not +send the money and so came no more to the office, at least that was the +solution Michael put upon it, and deep down in his heart he registered a vow to +go and hunt up Buck the minute he was through at college, and free to go back +to New York and help his friends. Meantime, though the years had dimmed those +memories of his old life, and the days went rapidly forward in study, he kept +always in view his great intention of one day going back to better his native +community. +</p> + +<p> +But the coming of Mr. Endicott was a great event to the boy. He could scarcely +sleep the night before the expected arrival. +</p> + +<p> +It was just before the evening meal that the through train from New York +reached the station. Michael had been given the privilege of going down to meet +his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +Tall and straight and handsome he stood upon the platform as the train rushed +into the town, his cheeks glowing from excitement, his eyes bright with +anticipation, his cap in his hand, and the last rays of the setting sun glowing +in his golden hair, giving a touch like a halo round his head. When Endicott +saw him he exclaimed mentally over his strength and manly beauty, and more than +one weary tourist leaned from the open car window and gazed, for there was ever +something strange and strong and compelling about Michael that reminded one of +the beauty of an angel. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap05"></a>Chapter V</h3> + +<p> +Michael met Mr. Endicott unembarrassed. His early life in New York had given +him a self-poise that nothing seemed to disturb; but when the father turned to +introduce his young daughter, the boy caught his breath and gazed at her with +deepening color, and intense delight. +</p> + +<p> +She was here then, his Starr! She had come to see him, and she looked just as +he would have her look. He had not realized before that she would be grown up, +but of course she would, and the change in her was not so great as to shock his +memory. The clear white of her skin with its fresh coloring was the same. New +York life had not made it sallow. The roses were in her cheeks as much as when +she was a little child. Her eyes were the same, dark and merry and looked at +him straightly, unabashed, with the ease of a girl trained by a society mother. +The dark curls were there, only longer, hanging to the slender waist and +crowned with a fine wide Panama hat. She gave him a little gloved hand and +said: “I’m afraid I don’t remember you very well, but daddy +has been telling me about you and I’m very glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +She was only a little over twelve, but she spoke with ease and simplicity, and +for the first time in his life Michael felt conscious of himself. She was so +perfect, so lovely, so finished in every expression and movement. She looked at +him intelligently, politely curious, and no longer with the baby eyes that +wondered at nothing. He himself could not help wondering what she must think of +him, and for a few minutes he grew shy before her. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott was surprised and pleased at the appearance of the boy. The +passing of the years had easily erased the tender feelings that Mikky the +little street urchin had stirred in his heart. This visit to the school and +college was not so much on account of the boy, to whom he had come to feel he +had discharged his full duty, but because of the repeated invitations on the +part of Professor Harkness and the president. It went not against him to see +the institution to which he had from time to time contributed, in addition to +his liberal allowance for the education of the boy. It was perfectly convenient +for him to stop, being on the regular route he had laid out for his southern +trip. His wife he had left at Palm Beach with her fashionable friends; and with +Starr as his companion, the father was going through the orange belt on a tour +of investigation with a view to investments. It suited him perfectly to stop +off and receive the thanks of the college, therefore he stopped. Not that he +was a heartless man, but there were so many things in his world to make him +forget, and a little pleasant adulation is grateful to the most of us. +</p> + +<p> +But when Michael in all his striking beauty stood before him with the deference +of a more than son, his heart suddenly gave a great leap back to the day when +he had first looked down upon the little white face on the pillow; when the +blue eyes had opened and Mikky had smiled. Michael smiled now, and Endicott +became aware at once of the subtle fascination of that smile. And now the +thought presented itself. “What if this were my son! how proud I should +be of him!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was indeed good to look upon even to the eyes of the city critic. +Endicott had taken care to leave orders with his tailor for a full outfit to be +sent to the boy, Spring and Fall, of suitable plain clothing for a school boy, +little realizing how unnecessary it would have been to have dressed him so +well. The tailor, nothing loth, had taken the measurements which were sent to +him from year to year in answer to the letter of the firm, and had kept Michael +looking as well as any rich man’s son need desire to look. Not that the +boy knew nor realized. The clothes came to him, like his board and tuition, and +he took them well pleased and wrote his best letter of thanks each year as +Professor Harkness suggested; but he had no idea that a part at least of his +power of leadership with all the boys of the school was due to his plain though +stylishly cut garments. This fact would not have counted for anything with boys +who had been living in Florida for years, for any plain decent clothes were +thought fit, no matter how they were cut; but the patronage of the school was +at least one-half made up of rich men’s sons who were sent South for a +few years to a milder climate for their health. These as a rule, when they +came, had exaggerated ideas of the importance of clothes and prevailing modes. +</p> + +<p> +And so it was that Michael did not look like a dowdy country boy to his +benefactor, but on the contrary presented a remarkable contrast with many of +the boys with whom Endicott was acquainted at home. There was something about +Michael even when he was a small lad that commanded marked attention from all +who saw him. This attention Endicott and his daughter gave now as they walked +beside him in the glow of the sunset, and listened as he pointed out the +various spots of interest in the little college town. +</p> + +<p> +The institution boasted of no carriage, and the single horse-car that travelled +to the station belonged to the hotel and its guests. However, the walk was not +long, and gave the travellers an opportunity to breathe the clear air and feel +the stillness of the evening which was only emphasized by each separate sound +now and again. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, as she walked on the inside of the board sidewalk, and looked down at +the small pink and white and crimson pea blossoms growing broad-cast, and then +up at the tallness of the great pines, felt a kind of awe stealing upon her. +The one day she had spent at Palm Beach had been so filled with hotels and +people and automobiles that she had had no opportunity to realize the tropical +nature of the land. But here in this quiet spot, where the tiny station, the +post office, the grocery, and a few scattered dwellings with the lights of the +great tourists’ hotel gleaming in the distance, seemed all there was of +human habitation; and where the sky was wide even to bewilderment; she seemed +suddenly to realize the difference from New York. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had recovered his poise as soon as she no longer faced him, though he +was profoundly conscious of her presence there on the other side of her father. +But he talked easily and well. Yes, there was the hotel. It held five hundred +guests and was pretty well filled at this season of the year. There were some +distinguished people stopping there. The railroad president’s private car +was on the track for a few hours last week. That car over on the siding +belonged to a great steel magnate. The other one had brought the wife of a +great inventor. Off there at the right toward the sunset were the school and +college buildings. No, they could not be seen, until one passed the orange +grove. Too bad there was no conveyance, but the one little car turned off +toward the hotel at this corner, and the one beast of burden belonging to the +college, the college Mule—Minus, by name, because there were so many +things that he was not—was lame today and therefore could not be called +into requisition to bring the guests from the station. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott felt that he was drawing nearer to nature in this quiet walk than +he had been since he was a boy and visited his grandfather’s farm. It +rested and pleased him immensely, and he was charmed with the boy, his protégé. +His frank, simple conversation was free from all affectation on the one hand, +or from any hint of his low origin on the other hand. He felt already that he +had done a good thing in sending this boy down here to be educated. It was +worth the little money he had put into it. +</p> + +<p> +Starr watched Michael shyly from the shelter of her father’s side and +listened to him. He was not like the boys she met in New York. To begin with he +was remarkably fine looking, and added to that there was a mingled strength and +kindliness in his face, and above all about his smile, that made her feel +instinctively that he was nobler than most of them. She could not think of a +boy of her acquaintance who had a firm chin like that. This boy had something +about him that made the girl know instantly that he had a greater purpose in +life than his own pleasure. Not that she thought this all out analytically. +Starr had never learned to think. She only felt it as she looked at him, and +liked him at once. Moreover there was a sort of glamour over the boy in her +eyes, for her father had just been telling her the story of how he had saved +her life when she was barely two years old. She felt a prideful proprietorship +in him that made her shy in his presence. +</p> + +<p> +At the college president’s gate, just on the edge of the campus, the +president came out with apologies. He had been detained on a bit of business at +the county seat five miles away, and had driven home with a friend whose horse +was very slow. He was sorry not to have done their honored guests the courtesy +of being at the station on their arrival. Endicott walked with the president +after the greetings, and Michael dropped behind with Starr eagerly pointing out +to her the buildings. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the chapel, and beyond are the study and recitation rooms. +The next is the dining hall and servant’s quarters, and over on that side +of the campus is our dormitory. My window looks down on the lake. Every morning +I go before breakfast for a swim.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, aren’t you afraid of alligators?” exclaimed Starr +shivering prettily. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at her fragile loveliness with a softened appreciation, as +one looks at the tender precious things of life that need protection. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he answered without laughing, as some of the other boys would +have done at her girlish fears, “they never bother us here, and besides, +I’m sort of acquainted with them. I’m not afraid of them. Nothing +will hurt you if you understand it well enough to look out for its +rights.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said Starr eyeing him in wonder. As if an alligator had +rights! What a strange, interesting boy. The idea of understanding an +alligator. She was about to ask how understanding the creature would keep one +from being eaten up when Michael pointed to the crimsoning West: +</p> + +<p> +“See!” he said eagerly as if he were pointing to a loved scene, +“the sun is almost down. Don’t you love to watch it? In a minute +more it will be gone and then it will be dark. Hear that evening bird? +‘Tit-wiloo! Tit-wiloo!’ He sings sometimes late at night.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr followed his eager words, and saw the sun slipping, slipping like a great +ruby disc behind the fringe of palm and pine and oak that bordered the little +lake below the campus; saw the wild bird dart from the thicket into the clear +amber of the sky above, utter its sweet weird call, and drop again into the +fine brown shadows of the living picture; watched, fascinated as the sun +slipped lower, lower, to the half now, and now less than half. +</p> + +<p> +Breathless they both stood and let the two men go on ahead, while they watched +the wonder of the day turn into night. The brilliant liquid crimson poured +itself away to other lands, till only a rim of wonderful glowing garnet +remained; then, like a living thing dying into another life, it too dropped +away, and all was night. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! How dark it is!” exclaimed Starr as she turned to her +companion again and found she could scarcely see his face. “Why! How +queer! Where is the twilight? Is anything the matter? I never saw it get dark +all at once like this!” She peered around into the strange velvet +darkness with troubled eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was all attention at once. +</p> + +<p> +“No, that’s all right,” he assured her. “That’s +the way we do here. Almost everybody from the north speaks about it at first. +They can’t understand it. Its the difference in the position of the sun, +nearer the equator, you know. I’ll show you all about it on the chart in +the astronomical room if you care to see. We haven’t any twilight here. I +should think twilight would be queer. You wouldn’t just know when night +began and day ended. I don’t remember about it when I lived in New York. +Look up there! That’s the evening star! It’s come out for you +tonight—to welcome another—Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +Oh, Michael, of unknown origin! Whence came that skill of delicate compliment, +that grace of courtesy, that you, plucked from the slime of the gutter, set +apart from all sweetening influences of loving contact with, womankind, should +be able so gallantly and respectfully to guide the young girl through the +darkness, touching her little elbow distantly, tactfully, reverently, exactly +as the college president helps his wife across the road on Sabbath to the +church? Is it only instinct, come down from some patrician ancestor of gallant +ways and kind, or have you watched and caught the knack from the noble scholar +who is your ideal of all that is manly? +</p> + +<p> +They walked silently through the warm darkness until they came within the +circle of light from the open door, and matron and teachers came out to welcome +the young stranger and bring her into the house. +</p> + +<p> +Michael lingered for a moment by the door, watching her as she went with the +matron, her sweet face wreathed in smiles, the matron’s thin arm around +her and a new and gentle look upon her severe countenance; watched until they +mounted the stairs out of sight; then he went out of doors. +</p> + +<p> +Taking off his cap he stood reverently looking up at the star, communing with +it perhaps about the human Starr that had come back to him out of the shadows +of the past. +</p> + +<p> +And she was a star. No one who saw her but acknowledged it. He marvelled as he +recalled the change wrought in the face of the matron and because of her +gentleness to the little girl forgave her all that she had not been to his +motherless boyhood. +</p> + +<p> +Starr came down to dinner in a few minutes radiant in a little rosy frock of +soft Eastern silk, girdled with a fringed scarf of the same and a knot of coral +velvet in her hair. From the string of pearls about her white neck to the +dainty point of her slipper she was exquisite and Michael watched her with open +admiration; whereat the long lashes drooped shyly over the girl’s rosy +cheeks and she was mightily pleased. +</p> + +<p> +She sat at her father’s side to the right of the president, with Michael +across the table. Well he bore the scrutiny of Endicott’s keen eyes which +through all the conversation kept searching the intelligent face of the boy. +</p> + +<p> +The evening passed like a dream, and Michael lay awake again that night +thinking of all the pleasure in anticipation for the next day. At last, at last +he had some people who in a way he might call his own. They had cared to come +and see him after all the years! His heart swelled with joy and gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +The guests attended chapel exercises with the students the next morning, and +Michael saw with pride the eyes of his companions turn toward the beautiful +young girl, and look at him almost with envy. The color mounted into his strong +young face, but he sat quietly in his place and no one would have guessed to +look at him, the tumult that was running riot in his veins. He felt it was the +very happiest day of his life. +</p> + +<p> +After chapel the guests were shown about the college buildings and campus. The +president and Endicott walked ahead, Michael behind with Starr, answering her +interested questions. +</p> + +<p> +They had been through all the classrooms, the gymnasium, the dining hall, +servants’ quarters and dormitories. They had visited the athletic ground, +the tennis courts, and gone down by the little lake, where Michael had taken +them out for a short row. Returning they were met by one of the professors who +suggested their going to hear some of the classes recite, and as Mr. Endicott +seemed interested they turned their steps toward the recitation hall. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Starr as they walked slowly across the campus +together, “that you must be a very brave boy. To think of you saving my +life that way when you were just a little fellow!” +</p> + +<p> +She looked up, her pretty face full of childish feeling. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down silently and smiled. He was wondering if any eyes were ever +as beautiful as those before him. He had never had even a little girl look at +him like that. The president’s daughter was fat and a romp. She never +took time to look at the boys. The few other girls he knew, daughters of the +professors, were quiet and studious. They paid little attention to the boys. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to thank you for what you did,” went on Starr, “only +I can’t think of any words great enough to tell you how I feel about it. +I wish there was something I could do to show you how I thank you?” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted her sweet eyes again to his. They were entering the large Hall of +the college now. +</p> + +<p> +“This way,” said Michael guiding her toward the chapel door which +had just swung to behind the two men. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there something you would like that I could do for +you?” persisted Starr earnestly, following him into the empty chapel +where Mr. Endicott and the president stood looking at a tablet on the wall by +the further door. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father has done everything for me,” said Michael sunnily, +with a characteristic sweep of his hand that seemed to include himself, his +garments and his mental outfit. He turned upon her his blazing smile that spoke +more eloquently than words could have done. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but that is papa,” said Starr half impatiently, softly +stamping her daintily shod foot. “He did that because of what you did for +<i>him</i> in saving my life. I should like to do something to thank you for +what you did for <i>me</i>. I’m worth something to myself you know. +Isn’t there something I could do for you.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood still, looking up into his face anxiously, her vivid childish beauty +seeming to catch all the brightness of the place and focus it upon him. The two +men had passed out of the further door and on to the recitation rooms. The girl +and boy were alone for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +“You have done something for me, you did a great deal,” he said, +his voice almost husky with boyish tenderness. “I think it was the +greatest thing that anybody ever did for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did something for you! When? What?” questioned Starr curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “you did a great thing for me. Maybe you +don’t remember it, but I do. It was when I was getting well from the shot +there at your house, and your nurse used to bring you up to play with me every +day; and always before you went away, you used to kiss me. I’ve never +forgotten that.” +</p> + +<p> +He said it quite simply as if it were a common thing for a boy to say to a +girl. His voice was low as though the depths of his soul were stirred. +</p> + +<p> +A flood of pretty color came into Starr’s cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she said quite embarrassed at the turn of the conversation, +“but that was when I was a baby. I couldn’t do that now. Girls +don’t kiss boys you know. It wouldn’t be considered proper.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” said Michael, his own color heightening now, “I +didn’t mean that. I wanted you to know how much you had done for me +already. You don’t know what it is never to have been kissed by your +mother, or any living soul. Nobody ever kissed me in all my life that I know of +but you.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down at the little girl with such a grave, sweet expression, his eyes +so expressive of the long lonely years without woman’s love, that child +though she was Starr seemed to understand, and her whole young soul went forth +in pity. Tears sprang to her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she said, “That is dreadful! Oh!—I don’t +care if it isn’t proper—” +</p> + +<p> +And before he knew what she was about to do the little girl tilted to her +tiptoes, put up her dainty hands, caught him about the neck and pressed a warm +eager kiss on his lips. Then she sprang away frightened, sped across the room, +and through the opposite door. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still in a bewilderment of joy for the instant. The compelling of +her little hands, the pressure of her fresh lips still lingered with him. A +flood tide of glory swept over his whole being. There were tears in his eyes, +but he did not know it. He stood with bowed head as though in a holy place. +Nothing so sacred, so beautiful, had ever come into his life. Her baby kisses +had been half unconscious. This kiss was given of her own free will, because +she wanted to do something for him. He did not attempt to understand the +wonderful joy that surged through his heart and pulsed in every fibre of his +being. His lonely, unloved life was enough to account for it, and he was only a +boy with a brief knowledge of life; but he knew enough to enshrine that kiss in +his heart of hearts as a holy thing, not even to be thought about carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +When he roused himself to follow her she had disappeared. Her father and the +president were listening to a recitation, but she was nowhere to be seen. She +had gone to her own room. Michael went down by himself in a thicket by the +lake. +</p> + +<p> +She met him shyly at dinner, with averted gaze and a glow on her cheeks, as if +half afraid of what she had done, but he reassured her with his eyes. His +glance seemed to promise he would never take advantage of what she had done. +His face wore an exalted look, as if he had been lifted above earth, and Starr, +looking at him wonderingly, was glad she had followed her impulse. +</p> + +<p> +They took a horseback ride to the college grove that afternoon, Mr. Endicott, +one of the professors, Starr and Michael. The president had borrowed the horses +from some friends. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat like a king upon his horse. He had ridden the college mule bareback +every summer, and riding seemed to be as natural to him as any other sport. +Starr had been to a New York riding school, and was accustomed to taking her +morning exercise with her father in the Park, or accompanied by a footman; but +she sat her Florida pony as happily as though he had been a shiny, well-groomed +steed of priceless value. Somehow it seemed to her an unusually delightful +experience to ride with this nice boy through the beautiful shaded road of +arching live-oaks richly draped with old gray moss. Michael stopped by the +roadside, where the shade was dense, dismounted and plunged into the thicket, +returning in a moment with two or three beautiful orchids and some long vines +of the wonderful yellow jessamine whose exquisite perfume filled all the air +about. He wreathed the jessamine about the pony’s neck, and Starr twined +it about her hat and wore the orchids in her belt. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had never seen an orange grove before and took great delight in the trees +heavily loaded with fruit, green and yellow and set about by blossoms. She +tucked a spray of blossoms in her dark hair under the edge of her hat, and +Michael looked at her and smiled in admiration. Mr. Endicott, glancing toward +his daughter, caught the look, and was reminded of the time when he had found +the two children in his own drawing room being made a show for his wife’s +guests, and sighed half in pleasure, half in foreboding. What a beautiful pair +they were to be sure, and what had the future in store for his little girl? +</p> + +<p> +On the way back they skirted another lake and Michael dismounted again to bring +an armful of great white magnolia blossoms, and dainty bay buds to the +wondering Starr; and then they rode slowly on through the wooded, road, the boy +telling tales of adventures here and there; pointing out a blue jay or calling +attention to the mocking bird’s song. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you could be here next week,” said the boy wistfully. +“It will be full moon then. There is no time to ride through this place +like a moonlight evening. It seems like fairyland then. The moonbeams make +fairy ladders of the jessamine vines.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be beautiful,” said Starr dreamily. Then they rode for a +few minutes in silence. They were coming to the end of the overarched avenue. +Ahead of them the sunlight shone clearly like the opening of a great tunnel +framed in living green. Suddenly Starr looked up gravely: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to kiss you good-bye tonight when, we go away,” +she said softly; and touching her pony lightly with the whip rode out into the +bright road; the boy, his heart leaping with joy, not far behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Before supper Mr. Endicott had a talk with Michael that went further toward +making the fatherless boy feel that he had someone belonging to him than +anything that had happened yet. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you have done enough for me, sir,” said Michael +respectfully opening the conversation as Endicott came out to the porch where +the boy was waiting for him. “I think I ought to begin to earn my own +living. I’m old enough now—” and he held his head up proudly. +“It’s been very good of you all these years—I never can repay +you. I hope you will let me pay the money back that you have spent on me, some +day when, I can earn enough—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had been thinking this speech out ever since the president had told him +of Endicott’s expected visit, but somehow it did not sound as well to him +when he said it as he had thought it would. It seemed the only right thing to +do when he planned it, but in spite of him as he looked into Mr. +Endicott’s kind, keen eyes, his own fell in troubled silence. Had his +words sounded ungrateful? Had he seen a hurt look in the man’s eyes? +</p> + +<p> +“Son,” said Endicott after a pause, and the word stirred the +boy’s heart strangely, “son, I owe you a debt you never can repay. +You gave me back my little girl, flinging your own life into the chance as +freely as if you had another on hand for use any minute. I take it that I have +at least a father’s right in you at any rate, and I mean to exercise it +until you are twenty-one. You must finish a college course first. When will +that be? Three years? They tell me you are doing well. The doctor wants to keep +you here to teach after you have graduated, but I had thought perhaps you would +like to come up to New York and have your chance. I’ll give you a year or +two in business, whatever seems to be your bent when you are through, and then +we’ll see. Which would you rather do? Or, perhaps you’d prefer to +let your decision rest until the time comes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’m bound to go back to New York, sir,” said Michael +lifting his head with that peculiar motion all his own, so like a challenge. +“You know, sir, you said I was to be educated so that I might help my +friends. I have learned of course that you meant it in a broader sense than +just those few boys, for one can help people anywhere; but still I feel as if +it wouldn’t be right for me not to go back. I’m sure they’ll +expect me.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott shrugged his shoulders half admiringly. +</p> + +<p> +“Loyal to your old friends still? Well, that’s commendable, but +still I fancy you’ll scarcely find them congenial now. I wouldn’t +let them hang too closely about you. They might become a nuisance. You have +your way to make in the world, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked at his benefactor with troubled brows. Somehow the tone of the +man disturbed him. +</p> + +<p> +“I promised,” he said simply. Because there had bean so little in +his affections that promise had been cherished through the years, and meant +much to Michael. It stood for Principle and Loyalty in general. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, keep your promise, of course,” said the man of the world +easily. “I fancy you will find the discharge of it a mere form.” +</p> + +<p> +A fellow student came across the campus. +</p> + +<p> +“Endicott,” he called, “have you seen Hallowell go toward the +village within a few minutes?” +</p> + +<p> +“He just want, out the gate,” responded Michael pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott looked up surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that the name by which you are known?” +</p> + +<p> +“Endicott? Yes, sir, Michael Endicott. Was it not by your wish? I +supposed they had asked you. I had no other name that I knew.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I didn’t know,” pondered Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +There was silence for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you,—shall I—do you dislike my having it?” asked +the boy delicately sensitive at once. +</p> + +<p> +But the man looked up with something like tenderness in his smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep it, son. I like it. I wish I had a boy like you. It is an old name +and a proud one. Be worthy of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will try, sir,” said Michael, as if he were registering a vow. +</p> + +<p> +There was an early supper for the guests and then Michael walked through +another sunset to the station with Starr. He carried a small box carefully +prepared in which reposed a tiny green and blue lizard for a parting gift. She +had watched the lizards scuttling away under the board sidewalks at their +approach, or coming suddenly to utter stillness, changing their brilliant +colors to gray like the fence boards that they might not be observed. She was +wonderfully interested in them, and was charmed with her gift. The particular +lizard in question was one that Michael had trained to eat crumbs from his +hand, and was quite tame. +</p> + +<p> +The two said little as they walked along together. Each was feeling what a +happy time they had spent in one another’s company. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall write and tell you how the lizard is,” said Starr +laughing, “and you will tell me all about the funny and interesting +things you are doing, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“If—I may,” said Michael wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +At the station a New York acquaintance of the Endicotts’ invited them to +ride in his private car which was on the side track waiting for the train to +pick them up. Michael helped Starr up the steps, and carried the lizard into +the car as well as the great sheaf of flowers she insisted on taking with her. +</p> + +<p> +There were some ladies inside who welcomed Starr effusively; and Michael, +suddenly abashed, laid down the flowers, lifted his cap and withdrew. A sudden +blank had come upon him. Starr was absorbed by people from another world than +his. He would have no opportunity to say good-bye—and she had +promised—But then of course he ought not to expect her to do that. She +had been very kind to him— +</p> + +<p> +He was going down the steps now. An instant more and he would be on the cinders +of the track. +</p> + +<p> +A sudden rush, a soft cry, caused him to pause on the second step of the +vestibuled car. It was Starr, standing just above him, and her eyes were +shining like her namesake the evening star. +</p> + +<p> +“You were going without good-bye,” she reproved, and her cheeks +were rosy red, but she stood her ground courageously. Placing a soft hand +gently on either cheek as he stood below her, his face almost on a level with +hers, she tilted his head toward her and touched his lips with her own red +ones, delicately as if a rose had swept them. +</p> + +<p> +Simultaneously came the sound of the distant train. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye, you nice, splendid boy!” breathed Starr, and waving her +hand darted inside the car. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott, out on the platform, still talking to the president, heard the +oncoming train and looked around for Michael. He saw him coming from the car +with his exalted look upon his face, his cap off, and the golden beams of the +sun again sending their halo like a nimbus over his hair. +</p> + +<p> +Catching his hand heartily, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Son, I’m pleased with you. Keep it up, and come to me when you are +ready. I’ll give you a start.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael gripped his hand and blundered out some words of thanks. Then the train +was upon them, and Endicott had to go. +</p> + +<p> +The two younger ladies in the car, meantime, were plying Starr with questions. +“Who is that perfectly magnificent young man. Starr Endicott? Why +didn’t you introduce him to us? I declare I never saw such a beautiful +face on any human being before.” +</p> + +<p> +A moment more and the private car was fastened to the train, and Starr leaning +from the window waved her tiny handkerchief until the train had thundered away +among the pines, and there was nothing left but the echo of its sound. The sun +was going down but it mattered not. There was sunshine in the boy’s +heart. She was gone, his little Starr, but she had left the memory of her soft +kiss and her bright eyes; and some day, some day, when he was done with +college, he would see her again. Meantime he was content. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap06"></a>Chapter VI</h3> + +<p> +The joy of loving kindness in his life, and a sense that somebody cared, seemed +to have the effect of stimulating Michael’s mind to greater energies. He +studied with all his powers. Whatever he did he did with his might, even his +play. +</p> + +<p> +The last year of his stay in Florida, a Department of Scientific Farming was +opened on a small scale. Michael presented himself as a student. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want of farming, Endicott?” asked the president, +happening to pass through the room on the first day of the teacher’s +meeting with his students. “You can’t use farming in New +York.” +</p> + +<p> +There was perhaps in the kindly old president’s mind a hope that the boy +would linger with them, for he had become attached to him in a silent, +undemonstrative sort of way. +</p> + +<p> +“I might need it sometime,” answered Michael, “and anyway +I’d like to understand it. You said the other day that no knowledge was +ever wasted. I’d like to know enough at least to tell somebody +else.” +</p> + +<p> +The president smiled, wondered, and passed on. Michael continued in the class, +supplementing the study by a careful reading of all the Agricultural magazines, +and Government literature on the subject that came in his way. Agriculture had +had a strange fascination for him ever since a noted speaker from the North had +come that way and in an address to the students told them that the new field +for growth today lay in getting back to nature and cultivating the earth. It +was characteristic of Michael that he desired to know if that statement was +true, and if so, why. Therefore he studied. +</p> + +<p> +The three years flew by as if by magic. Michael won honors not a few, and the +day came when he had completed his course, and as valedictorian of his class, +went up to the old chapel for his last commencement in the college. +</p> + +<p> +He sat on the platform looking down on the kindly, uncritical audience that had +assembled for the exercises, and saw not a single face that had come for his +sake alone. Many were there who were interested in him because they had known +him through the years, and because he bore the reputation of being the honor +man of his class and the finest athlete in school. But that was not like having +some one of his very own who cared whether he did well or not. He found himself +wishing that even Buck might have been there; Buck, the nearest to a brother he +had ever had. Would Buck have cared that he had won highest rank? Yes, he felt +that Buck would have been proud of him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had sent out three invitations to commencement, one to Mr. Endicott, +one to Starr, and one addressed to Buck, with the inner envelope bearing the +words “For Buck and ‘the kids,’” but no response had +come to any of them. He had received back the one addressed to Buck with +“Not Called For” in big pink letters stamped across the corner. It +had reached him that morning, just before he came on the platform. He wished it +had not come till night; it gave him a lonely, almost forsaken feeling. He was +“educated” now, at least enough to know what he did not know; and +there was no one to care. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael sat down after his oration amid a storm of hearty applause, +prolonged by his comrades into something like an ovation, some one handed him a +letter and a package. There had been a mistake made at the post office in +sorting the mail and these had not been put into the college box. One of the +professors going down later found them and brought them up. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was from Mr. Endicott containing a businesslike line of +congratulations, a hope that the recipient would come to New York if he still +felt of that mind, and a check for a hundred dollars. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked at the check awesomely, re-read the letter carefully and put +both in his pocket. The package was tiny and addressed in Starr’s +handwriting. Michael saved that till he should go to his room. He did not want +to open it before any curious eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s letters had been few and far between, girlish little epistles; +and the last year they had ceased altogether. Starr was busy with life; +finishing-school and dancing-school and music-lessons and good times. Michael +was a dim and pleasant vision to her. +</p> + +<p> +The package contained a scarf-pin of exquisite workmanship. Starr had pleased +herself by picking out the very prettiest thing she could find. She had her +father’s permission to spend as much as she liked on it. It was in the +form of an orchid, with a tiny diamond like a drop of dew on one petal. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked on it with wonder, the first suggestion of personal adornment +that had ever come to him. He saw the reminder of their day together in the +form of the orchid; studied the beautiful name, “Starr Delevan +Endicott,” engraved upon the card; then put them carefully back into +their box and locked it into his bureau drawer. He would wear it the first time +he went to see Starr. He was very happy that day. +</p> + +<p> +The week after college closed Michael drove the college mule to the county +seat, ten miles away, and bought a small trunk. It was not much of a trunk but +it was the best the town afforded. In this he packed all his worldly +possessions, bade good-bye to the president, and such of the professors as had +not already gone North for their vacations, took a long tramp to all his old +haunts, and boarded the midnight train for New York. +</p> + +<p> +The boy had a feeling of independence which kept him from letting his +benefactor know of his intended arrival. He did not wish to make him any +unnecessary trouble, and though he had now been away from New York for fourteen +years, he felt a perfect assurance that he could find his way about. There are +some things that one may learn even at seven, that will never be forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael landed in New York he looked about him with vague bewilderment for +a moment. Then he started out with assurance to find a new spot for himself in +the world. +</p> + +<p> +Suitcase he had not, nor any baggage but his trunk to hinder him. He had +discovered that the trunk could remain in the station for a day without charge. +The handsome raincoat and umbrella which had been a part of the outfit the +tailor had sent him that spring were all his encumbrances, so he picked his way +unhampered across Liberty Street, eyeing his former enemies, the policemen, and +every little urchin or newsboy with interest. Of course Buck and the rest would +have grown up and changed some; they wouldn’t likely be selling papers +now—but—these were boys such as he had been. He bought a paper off +a little ragged fellow with a pinched face, and a strange sensation came over +him. When he left this city he was the newsboy, and now he had money enough to +buy a paper—and the education to read it! What a difference! Not that he +wanted the paper at present, though it might prove interesting later, but he +wanted the experience of buying it. It marked the era of change in his life and +made the contrast tremendous. Immediately his real purpose in having an +education, the uplift of his fellow-beings, which had been most vague during +the years, took form and leapt into vivid interest, as he watched the little +skinny legs of the newsboy nimbly scrambling across the muddy street under the +feet of horses, and between automobiles, in imminent danger of his life. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had thought it all out, just what he would do, and he proceeded to +carry out his purpose. He had no idea what a fine picture of well-groomed youth +and manly beauty he presented as he marched down the street. He walked like a +king, and New York abashed him no more now that he had come back than it did +before he went away. There are some spirits born that way. He walked like a +“gentleman, unafraid.” +</p> + +<p> +He had decided not to go to Mr. Endicott until he had found lodgings somewhere. +An innate delicacy had brought him to this decision. He would not put one +voluntary burden upon his kind benefactor. Born and bred in the slums, whence +came this fineness of feeling? Who shall say? +</p> + +<p> +Michael threaded his way through the maze of traffic, instinct and vague +stirrings of memory guiding him to a quiet shabby street where he found a dingy +little room for a small price. The dangers that might have beset a strange +young man in the great city were materially lessened for him on account of his +wide reading. He had read up New York always wherever he found an article or +book or story that touched upon it; and without realizing it he was well versed +in details. He had even pondered for hours over a map of New York that he found +in the back of an old magazine, comparing it with his faint memories, until he +knew the location of things with relation to one another pretty well. A +stranger less versed might have gotten into most undesirable quarters. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked around his new home with a strange sinking of heart, after he +had been out to get something to eat, and arranged for his trunk to be sent to +his room. It was very tiny and not over clean. The wall paper was a dingy +flowered affair quite ancient in design, and having to all appearances far +outlived a useful life. The one window looked out to brick walls, chimneys and +roofs. The noise of the city clattered in; the smells and the heat made it +almost stifling to the boy who had lived for thirteen years in the sunshine of +the South, and the freedom of the open. +</p> + +<p> +The narrow bed looked uninviting, the bureau-washstand was of the cheapest, and +the reflection Michael saw in its warped mirror would have made any boy with a +particle of vanity actually suffer. Michael, however, was not vain. He thought +little about himself, but this room was depressing. The floor was covered with +a nondescript carpet faded and soiled beyond redemption, and when his trunk was +placed between the bureau and the bed there would be scarcely room for the one +wooden chair. It was not a hopeful outlook. The boy took off his coat and sat +down on the bed to whistle. +</p> + +<p> +Life, grim, appalling, spectral-like, uprose before his mental vision, and he +spent a bad quarter of an hour trying to adjust himself to his surroundings; +his previous sunny philosophy having a tough tussle with the sudden realities +of things as they were. Then his trunk arrived. +</p> + +<p> +It was like Michael to unpack it at once and put all his best philosophical +resolves into practice. +</p> + +<p> +As he opened the trunk a whiff of the South, exhaled. He caught his breath with +a sudden keen, homesickness. He realized that his school days were over, and +all the sweetness and joy of that companionful life passed. He had often felt +alone in those days. He wondered at it now. He had never in all his experience +known such aloneness as now in this great strange city. +</p> + +<p> +The last thing he had put into his trunk had been a branch of mammoth pine +needles. The breath of the tree brought back all that meant home to him. He +caught it up and buried his face in the plumy tassels. +</p> + +<p> +The tray of the trunk was filled with flags, pennants, photographs, and college +paraphernalia. Eagerly he pulled them all out and spread them over the bumpy +little bed. Then he grabbed for his hat and rushed out. In a few minutes he +returned with a paper of tacks, another of pins, and a small tack hammer. In an +hour’s time he had changed the atmosphere of the whole place. Not an +available inch of bare wall remained with, its ugly, dirty wallpaper. College +colors, pennants and flags were grouped about pictures, and over the unwashed +window was draped Florida moss. Here and there, apparently fluttering on the +moss or about the room, were fastened beautiful specimens of semi-tropical +moths and butterflies in the gaudiest of colors. A small stuffed alligator +reposed above the window, gazing apathetically down, upon the scene. A larger +alligator skin was tacked on one wall. One or two queer bird’s nests +fastened to small branches hung quite naturally here and there. +</p> + +<p> +Michael threw down the hammer and sat down to survey his work, drawing a breath +of relief. He felt more at home now with the photographs of his fellow students +smiling down upon him. Opposite was the base-ball team, frowning and sturdy; to +the right the Glee Club with himself as their leader; to the left a group of +his classmates, with his special chum in the midst. As he gazed at that kindly +face in the middle he could almost hear the friendly voice calling to him: +“Come on, Angel! You’re sure to win out!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael felt decidedly better, and fell to hanging up his clothes and arranging +his effects on clean papers in the rheumatic bureau drawers. These were cramped +quarters but would do for the present until he was sure of earning some money, +for he would not spend his little savings more than he could help now and he +would not longer be dependent upon the benefaction of Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +When his box of books arrived he would ask permission to put some shelves over +the window. Then he would feel quite cosy and at home. +</p> + +<p> +So he cheered himself as he went about getting into his best garments, for he +intended to arrive at Madison Avenue about the time that his benefactor reached +home for the evening. +</p> + +<p> +Michael knew little of New York ways, and less of the habits of society; the +few novels that had happened in his way being his only instructors on the +subject. He was going entirely on his dim memories of the habits of the +Endicott home during his brief stay there. As it happened Mr. Endicott was at +home when Michael arrived and the family were dining alone. +</p> + +<p> +The boy was seated in the reception room gazing about him with the ease of his +habitual unconsciousness of self, when Endicott came down bringing Starr with +him. A second time the man of the world was deeply impressed with the fine +presence of this boy from obscurity. He did not look out of place even in a New +York drawing room. It was incredible; though of course a large part of it was +due to his city-made clothing. Still, that would not by any means account for +case of manner, graceful courtesy, and an instinct for saying the right thing +at the right time. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott invited the lad to dine with them and Starr eagerly seconded the +invitation. Michael accepted as eagerly, and a few moments later found himself +seated at the elegantly appointed table by the side of a beautiful and haughty +woman who stared at him coldly, almost insultingly, and made not one remark to +him throughout the whole meal. The boy looked at her half wonderingly. It +almost seemed as if she intended to resent his presence, yet of course that +could not be. His idea of this whole family was the highest. No one belonging +to Starr could of course be aught but lovely of spirit. +</p> + +<p> +Starr herself seemed to feel the disapproval of her mother, and shrink into +herself, saying very little, but smiling shyly at Michael now and then when her +mother was not noticing her. +</p> + +<p> +Starr was sixteen now, slender and lovely as she had given promise of being. +Michael watched her satisfied. At last he turned to the mother sitting in her +cold grandeur, and with the utmost earnestness and deference in his voice said, +his glance still half toward Starr: +</p> + +<p> +“She is like you, and yet not!” +</p> + +<p> +He said it gravely, as if it were a discovery of the utmost importance to them +both, and he felt sure it was the key to her heart, this admission of his +admiration of the beautiful girl. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott froze him with her glance. +</p> + +<p> +From the roots of his hair down to the tips of his toes and back again he felt +it, that insulting resentment of his audacity in expressing any opinion about +her daughter; or in fact in having any opinion. For an instant his +self-possession deserted him, and his face flushed with mingled emotions. Then +he saw a look of distress on Starr’s face as she struggled to make reply +for her silent mother: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, mamma and I are often said to resemble one another strongly,” +and there was a tremble in Starr’s voice that roused all the manliness in +the boy. He flung off the oppression that was settling down upon him and +listened attentively to what Endicott was saying, responding gracefully, +intelligently, and trying to make himself think that it was his inexperience +with ladies that had caused him to say something inappropriate. Henceforth +during the evening he made no more personal remarks. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott took the boy to his den after dinner, and later Starr slipped in and +they talked a little about their beautiful day in Florida together. Starr asked +him if he still rode and would like to ride with her in the Park the next +morning when she took her exercise, and it was arranged in the presence of her +father and with his full consent that Michael should accompany her in place of +the groom who usually attended her rides. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott came in as they were making this arrangement, and immediately +called Starr sharply out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +After their withdrawal Endicott questioned the boy carefully about his college +course and his habits of living. He was pleased to hear that Michael had been +independent enough to secure lodgings before coming to his house. It showed a +spirit that was worth helping, though he told him that he should have come +straight to him. +</p> + +<p> +As Endicott was going off on a business trip for a week he told Michael to +enjoy himself looking around the city during his absence, and on his return +present himself at the office at an appointed hour when he would put him in the +way of something that would start him in life. +</p> + +<p> +Michael thanked him and went back to his hot little room on the fourth floor, +happy in spite of heat and dinginess and a certain homesick feeling. Was he not +to ride with Starr in the morning? He could hardly sleep for thinking of it, +and of all he had to say to her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap07"></a>Chapter VII</h3> + +<p> +When Michael presented himself at the appointed hour the next morning he was +shown into a small reception room by a maid, and there he waited for a full +half hour. At the end of that time he heard a discreet rustle of garments in +the distance, and a moment later, became aware of a cold stare from the +doorway. Mrs. Endicott in an elaborate morning frock was surveying him fixedly +through a jewelled lorgnette, her chin tilted contemptuously, and an expression +of supreme scorn upon her handsome features. Woman of the world that she was, +she must have noted the grace of his every movement as he rose with his +habitual courtesy to greet her. Yet for some reason this only seemed to +increase her dislike. +</p> + +<p> +There was no welcoming hand held out in response to his good morning, and no +answering smile displaced the severity of the woman’s expression as she +stood confronting the boy, slowly paralyzing him with her glance. Not a word +did she utter. She could convey her deepest meaning without words when she +chose. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael was a lad of great self-control, and keen logical mind. He saw no +reason for the woman’s attitude of rebuke, and concluded he must be +mistaken in it. Rallying his smile once more he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Is Miss Starr ready to ride, or have I come too early?” +</p> + +<p> +Again the silence became impressive as the cold eyes looked him through, before +the thin lips opened. +</p> + +<p> +“My daughter is not ready to ride—with YOU, this morning or at any +other time!” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” said Michael now deeply +astonished, and utterly unable to fathom the woman’s strange manner. +“Have I misunderstood? I thought she asked me to ride with her this +morning. May I see her, please?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you may not see Miss Endicott!” said the cold voice. +“And I have come down to tell you that I consider your coming here at all +a great impertinence. Certainly my husband has fully discharged any obligations +for the slight service he is pleased to assume that you rendered a good many +years ago. I have always had my doubts as to whether you did not do more harm +than good at that time. Of course you were only a child and it was impossible +that you should have done any very heroic thing at that age. In all probability +if you had kept out of things the trouble never would have happened, and your +meddling simply gave you a wound and a soft bed for a while. In my opinion you +have had far more done for you than you ever deserved, and I want you to +understand that so far as my daughter is concerned the obligation is +discharged.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had stood immovable while the cruel woman uttered her harangue, his +eyes growing wide with wonder and dark with a kind of manly shame for her as +she went on. When she paused for a moment she saw his face was white and still +like a statue, but there was something in the depth of his eyes that held her +in check. +</p> + +<p> +With the utmost calm, and deference, although his voice rang with honest +indignation, Michael spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Endicott,” he said, his tone clear and +attention-demanding, “I have never felt that there was the slightest +obligation resting upon any of this family for the trifling matter that +occurred when, as you say, I was a child. I feel that the obligation is +entirely the other way, of course, but I cannot understand what you mean. How +is my coming here at Mr. Endicott’s invitation an impertinence?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked at him contemptuously as though it were scarcely worth the +trouble to answer him, yet there was something about him that demanded an +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are ignorant then,” she answered cuttingly, +“as you seem to be honest. I will explain. You are not fit company for my +daughter. It is strange that you do not see that for yourself! A child of the +slums, with nothing but shame and disgrace for an inheritance, and brought up a +pauper! How could you expect to associate on a level with a gentleman’s +daughter? If you have any respect for her whatever you should understand that +it is not for such as you to presume to call upon her and take her out riding. +It is commendable in you of course to have improved what opportunities have +been given you, but it is the height of ingratitude in a dependent to presume +upon kindness and take on the airs of an equal, and you might as well +understand first as last that you cannot do it. I simply will not have you +here. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood as if rooted to the floor, horror and dismay growing in his eyes; +and stupor trickling through his veins. For a minute he stood after she had +ceased speaking, as though the full meaning of her words had been slow to reach +his consciousness. Yet outwardly his face was calm, and only his eyes had +seemed to change and widen and suffer as she spoke. Finally his voice came to +him: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I did not know,” he said in a stricken voice. “As you +say, I am ignorant.” Then lifting his head with that fine motion of +challenge to the world that was characteristic of him whenever he had to face a +hard situation, his voice rang clear and undaunted: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon. I shall not offend this way again. It was +because I did not understand. I would not hurt your daughter in any way, for +she has been the only beautiful thing that ever came into my life. But I will +never trouble her again.” +</p> + +<p> +The bow with which he left her and marched past her into the hall and out of +the great door where once his boy life had been freely laid down for her child, +could have been no more gracefully or dramatically effected if he had been some +great actor. It was natural, it was full of dignity and reproach, and it left +the lady feeling smaller and meaner than she had ever felt in all of her +rose-colored, velvet-lined existence. Somehow all the contempt she had +purposely prepared for the crushing of the lad, he had suddenly flung from him +as a hated garment and walked from her presence, leaving it wrapped about +herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, really!” she gasped at last when she realized that he was +gone and her eloquence not half finished, “Well, really! What right had +he to go away like that without my permission. Impertinent to the end! One +would suppose he was a grand Duke. Such airs! I always told Delevan it was a +mistake to educate the masses. They simply don’t know their place and +will not keep it.” +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, the selfish woman was much shaken. Michael had made her feel +somehow as if she had insulted a saint or a supernal being. She could not +forget how the light had sifted through his wonderful hair and glinted through +the depths of his great eyes, as he spoke those last words, and she resented +the ease with which he had left her presence. It had been too much like the +going of a victor, and not like one crushed back into his natural place. She +was cross all day in consequence. +</p> + +<p> +Starr meanwhile was lingering upstairs waiting for Michael. She had been +purposely kept busy in a distant room at the back of the house by her mother, +and was not told of his coming. As an hour went by beyond the appointed time +she grew restless and disappointed; and then annoyed and almost angry that he +should have so easily forgotten her; but she did not tell her mother, and the +old Scotch nurse who would have been her confidante had been sent on an errand +to another part of the city. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, as the days went by, and Michael came no more to the house, the girl grew +to think he did not want to come, and her slight disappointment and +mortification were succeeded by a haughty resentment, for her mother’s +teaching had not been without some result in her character. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had gone into the door of the Endicott mansion a boy with a light heart +and a happy vision of the future. He came out from there an hour later, a man, +with a heavy burden on his heart, and a blank vision of the future. So much had +the woman wrought. +</p> + +<p> +As he walked from the house his bright head drooped, and his spirit was +troubled within him. He went as one in a terrible dream. His face had the look +of an angel newly turned out of paradise and for no fault of his own; an angel +who bowed to the Supreme mandate, but whose life was crushed within him. People +looked at him strangely, and wondered as they passed him. It was as if Sorrow +were embodied suddenly, and looking through eyes intended for Love. For the +first time Michael, beloved of all his companions for his royal unselfishness, +was thinking of himself. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even so there was no selfishness in his thought. It was only as if that +which had always given him life and the breath of gladness had suddenly been +withdrawn from him, and left him panting, gasping in a wide and unexpected +emptiness. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow he found his way to his room and locked the door. +</p> + +<p> +Then the great spirit gave way and he flung himself upon the bed in supreme +exhaustion. He seemed not to have another atom of strength left wherewith, to +move or think or even breathe consciously. All his physical powers had oozed +away and deserted him, now in this great crisis when life’s foundations +were shaken to their depths and nothing seemed to be any more. He could not +think it over or find a way out of the horror, he could only lie and suffer it, +fact by fact, as it came and menaced him, slowly, cruelly throughout that +length of day. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually it became distinct and separated itself into thoughts so that he +could follow it, as if it were the separate parts of some great dragon come to +twine its coils about him and claw and crush and strangle the soul of him. +</p> + +<p> +First, there was the fact like a great knife which seemed to have severed soul +from body, the fact that he might not see Starr, or have aught to do with her +any more. So deeply had this interdiction taken hold upon him that it seemed to +him in his agitation he might no longer even think of her. +</p> + +<p> +Next, following in stern and logical sequence, came the reason for this +severing of soul from all it knew and loved; the fact of his lowly birth. +Coming as it did, out of the blue of a trustful life that had never questioned +much about his origin but had sunnily taken life as a gift, and thought little +about self; with the bluntness and directness of an un-lovingkindness, it had +seemed to cut and back in every direction, all that was left of either soul or +body, so that there came no hope of ever catching things together again. +</p> + +<p> +That was the way it came over and over again as the boy without a friend in the +whole wide world to whom he could turn in his first great trouble, lay and took +it. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually out of the blackness he began to think a little; think back to his +own beginning. Who was he? What was he? For the first time in his life, though +he knew life more than most of the boys with whom he had associated, the +thought of shame in connection with his own birth came to him, and burrowed and +scorched its way into his soul. +</p> + +<p> +He might have thought of such a possibility before perhaps, had not his very +youngest years been hedged about by a beautiful fancy that sprang from the +brain of an old Irish woman in the slums, whose heart was wide as her ways were +devious, and who said one day when little Mikky had run her an errand, +“Shure, an’ then Mikky, yer an angel sthraight frum hiven an’ +no misthake. Yer no jest humans like the rist av us; ye must av dhropped doon +frum the skoy.” And from that it had gone forth that Mikky was the child +of the sky, and that was why no one knew who were his parents. +</p> + +<p> +The bit of a fancy had guarded the boy’s weird babyhood, and influenced +more than he knew his own thought of existence, until life grew too full to +think much on it. +</p> + +<p> +Out of the darkness and murk of the slums the soul of Mikky had climbed high, +and his ambitions reached up to the limitless blue above him. It had never +occurred to him once that there might be an embargo put upon his upward +movements. He had taken all others to be as free hearted and generous as +himself. Heir of all things, he had breathed the atmosphere of culture as +though it were his right. Now, he suddenly saw that he had no business +climbing. He had been seized just as he was about to mount a glorious height +from which he was sure other heights were visible, when a rude hand had brushed +him back and dropped him as though he had been some crawling reptile, down, +down, down, at the very bottom of things. And the worst of all was that he +might not climb back. He might look up, he might know the way up again, but the +honor in him—the only bit of the heights he had carried back to the foot +with him—forbade him to climb to the dizzy heights of glory, for they +belonged to others: those whom fortune favored, and on whose escutcheon there +was no taint of shame. +</p> + +<p> +And why should it be that some souls should be more favored than others? What +had he, for instance, to do with his birth? He would not have chosen shame, if +shame there was. Yet shame or not he was branded with it for life because his +origin was enveloped in mystery. The natural conclusion was that sin had had +its part. +</p> + +<p> +Then through the boy’s mind there tumbled a confusion of questions all +more or less unanswerable, in the midst of which he slept. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to have wandered out into the open again with the pines he loved +above him, and underneath the springy needles with their slippery resinous +softness; and he lay looking up into the changeless blue that covered all the +heights, asking all the tumultuous questions that throbbed through his heart, +asking them of God. +</p> + +<p> +Silently the noises of the city slunk away and dropped into the ceaseless calm +of the southland he had left. The breeze fanned his cheek, the pines whispered, +and a rippling bird song touched his soul with peace. A quietness came down +upon his troubled spirit, and he was satisfied to take the burden that had been +laid him and to bear it greatly. The peace was upon him when he awoke, far into +the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +The hot June sun streamed into his stuffy room and fell aslant the bed. He was +sodden and heavy with the heat and the oppression of his garments. His head +ached, and he felt as nearly ill as he had ever felt in his life. The spectre +of the day before confronted him in all its torturing baldness, but he faced it +now and looked it squarely in the eyes. It was not conquered yet, not by any +means. The sharp pain of its newness was just as great, and the deep conviction +was still there that it was because of wrong that this burden was laid upon +him, but there was an adjustment of his soul to the inevitable that there had +not been at first. +</p> + +<p> +The boy lay still for a few minutes looking out upon a new life in which +everything had to be readjusted to the idea of himself and his new limitations. +Heretofore in his mind there had been no height that was not his for the +climbing. Now, the heights were his, but he would not climb because the heights +themselves might be marred by his presence. It was wrong, it was unfair, that +things should be so; but they were so, and as long as Sin and Wrong were in the +world they would be so. +</p> + +<p> +He must look upon life as he had looked upon every contest through his +education. There were always things to be borne, hard things, but that only +made the conquest greater. He must face this thing and win. +</p> + +<p> +And what had he lost that had been his before? Not the beautiful girl who had +been the idol of his heart all these years. She was still there, alive and +well, and more beautiful than ever. His devotion might yet stand between her +and harm if need arose. True, he had lost the hope of companionship with her, +but that had been the growth of a day. He had never had much of it before, nor +expected it when he came North. It would have been a glory and a joy beyond +expression, but one could live without those things and be true. There was some +reason for it all somewhere in the infinite he was sure. +</p> + +<p> +It was not like the ordinary boy to philosophize in this way, but Michael had +never been an ordinary boy. Ever his soul had been open to the greatness of the +universe and sunny toward the most trying surroundings. He had come out of the +hardest struggle his soul had yet met, but he had come out a man. There were +lines about his pleasant mouth that had not been there the day before, which +spoke of strength and self-control. There were new depths in his eyes as of one +who had looked down, and seen things unspeakable, having to number himself with +the lowly. +</p> + +<p> +A new thought came to him while he lay there trying to take in the change that +had come to him. The thought of his childhood companions, the little waifs like +himself who came from the offscourings of the earth. They had loved him he +knew. He recalled slowly, laboriously, little incidents from his early history. +They were dim and uncertain, many of them, but little kindnesses stood out. A +bad cut on his foot once and how Buck had bathed it and bound it up in dirty +rags, doing double duty with the newspapers for several days to save his friend +from stepping. There was a bitter cold night way back as far as he could +remember when he had had bad luck, and came among the others supperless and +almost freezing. Buck had shared a crust and found a warm boiler-room where +they crawled out of sight and slept. There were other incidents, still more +blurred in his memory, but enough to recall how loyal the whole little gang had +been to him. He saw once more their faces when they heard he was going away to +college; blanched with horror at the separation, lighting with pleasure when he +promised to return! +</p> + +<p> +The years, how they had changed and separated! Where were they, these who +really belonged to him; who were his rightful companions? What had the years +done to them? And he had a duty toward them unperformed. How was it that he had +been in the city all these hours and not even thought of going to look for +those loyal souls who had stood by him so faithfully when they were all mere +babies? He must go at once. He had lost his head over attempting to reach +things that were not for him, and this shock had come to set him straight. +</p> + +<p> +Gravely he rose at last, these thoughts surging through his brain. +</p> + +<p> +The heat, the stifling air of the room, his recent struggling and the +exhausting stupor made him reel dizzily as he got up, but his mettle was up now +and he set his lips and went about making himself neat. He longed for a dip in +the crystal waters of the little lake at college. The tiny wash-bowl of his +room proved a poor substitute with its tepid water and diminutive towel. +</p> + +<p> +He went out and breakfasted carefully as if it were a duty, and then, with his +map in his pocket, started out to find his old haunts. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap08"></a>Chapter VIII</h3> + +<p> +Thirteen years in New York had brought many changes. Some of the +well-remembered landmarks were gone and new buildings in their places. A +prosperous looking saloon quite palatial in its entrance marked the corner +where he used to sell papers. It used to be a corner grocery store. Saloons! +Always and everywhere there were saloons! Michael looked at them wonderingly. +He had quite forgotten them in his exile, for the college influence had barred +them out from its vicinity. +</p> + +<p> +The boy Mikky had been familiar enough with saloons, looking upon them as a +necessary evil, where drinking fathers spent the money that ought to have +bought their children food. He had been in and out of them commonly enough +selling his papers, warming his feet, and getting a crust now and then from an +uneaten bit on the lunch counter. Sometimes there had been glasses to drain, +but Mikky with his observing eyes had early decided that he would have none of +the stuff that sent men home to curse their little children. +</p> + +<p> +College influence, while there had been little said on the subject, had filled +the boy with horror for saloons and drunkards. He stood appalled now as he +turned at last into an alley where familiar objects, doorsteps, turnings, +cellars, met his gaze, with grog shops all along the way and sentinelling every +corner. +</p> + +<p> +A strange feeling came over him as memory stirred by long-forgotten sights +awoke. Was this really the place, and was that opening beyond the third steps +the very blind alley where Janie used to live? Things were so much dirtier, so +much, worse in every way than he remembered them. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried on, not noticing the attention he was attracting from the wretched +little children in the gutters, though he scanned them all eagerly, hurriedly, +with the wild idea that Buck and the rest might be among them. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, the alley was there, dark and ill-smelling as ever, and in its dim +recesses on a dirty step a woman’s figure hunched; a figure he knew at +once that he had seen before and in that very spot. Who was she? What had they +called her? Sally? Aunt Sal? +</p> + +<p> +He hurried up to where she sat looking curiously, apathetically at him; her +gray hair straggling down on her dirty cotton frock open at the neck over +shrivelled yellow skin; soiled old hands hanging carelessly over slatternly +garments; stockingless feet stuck into a great tattered pair of men’s +shoes. Nothing seemed changed since he saw her last save that the hair had been +black then, and the skin not so wrinkled. Aunt Sally had been good natured +always, even when she was drunk; her husband, when he came home was always +drunk also, but never good natured. These things came back to the boy as he +stood looking down at the wreck of a woman before him. +</p> + +<p> +The bleary eyes looked up unknowing, half resentful of his intrusion. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Sally!” impulsively cried the boyish voice. +“Aren’t you Aunt Sally?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked stupidly surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“I be,” she said thickly, “but wot’s that to yous? I +beant no hant o’ yourn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you remember Mikky?” he asked almost anxiously, for +now the feeling had seized him that he must make her remember. He must find out +if he could whether anything was known of his origin. Perhaps she could help +him. Perhaps, after all, he might be able to trace his family, and find at +least no disgrace upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky!” the woman repeated dully. She shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky!” she said again stolidly, “Wot’s Mikky?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you remember Mikky the little boy that sold papers and +brought you water sometimes? Once you gave me a drink of soup from your kettle. +Think!” +</p> + +<p> +A dim perception came into the sodden eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Thur wus a Mikky long ago,” she mused. “He had hair like a +h’angel, bless the sweet chile; but he got shot an’ never come +back. That war long ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael took off his hat and the little light in the dark alley seemed to catch +and tangle in the gleam of his hair. +</p> + +<p> +The old woman started as though she had seen a vision. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us!” she cried aghast, shrinking back into her +doorway with raised hands, “an’ who be yez? Yeh looks enough like +the b’y to be the father of ’im. He’d hair loike the verra +sunshine itself. Who be yez? Spake quick. Be ye man, b’y, er +angel?” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in the woman’s tone that went to the heart of the +lonely boy, even while he recoiled from the repulsive creature before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I am just Mikky, the boy, grown a little older,” he said gently, +“and I’ve come back to see the place where I used to live, and find +the people I used to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’ve lost yer way thin fer shure!” said the woman slightly +recovering her equilibrium. “The loikes uv yous nivver lived in dis +place; fer ef yous ain’t angel you’s gintulmun; an’ no +gintulmun ivver cum from the loikes o’ this. An’ besoides, the +b’y Mikky, I tel’d yez, was shot an’ nivver comed back no +more. He’s loikely up wid de angels where he b’longs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I was shot,” said Michael, “but I wasn’t killed. +A good man sent me to college, and I’ve just graduated and come back to +look up my friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Frinds, is it, ye’ll be afther a findin’? Thin ye’d +bist look ilsewhar, fer thur’s no one in this alley fit to be frinds with +the loikes uv you. Ef that’s wot they does with b’ys at co-lidge a +pity ’tis more uv um can’t git shot an’ go there. But ef all +yous tell is thrue, moi advice to yez is, juist bate it as hoird as ivver yez +kin out’n yere, an’ don’t yez nivver set oies on this alley +agin. Ye’d better stay to co-lidge all the days uv yer loife than set fut +here agin, fer juist let ’em got holt uv yez an’ they’ll +spile the pretty face uv ye. Look thar!” she pointed tragically toward a +wreck of humanity that reeled into the alley just then. “Would yez loike +to be loike that? My mon come home loike that ivvery day of his loife, rist his +bones, an’ he nivver knowed whin he died.” +</p> + +<p> +Maudlin tears rolled down the poor creature’s cheeks, for they could be +no tears of affection. Her man’s departure from this life could have been +but a relief. Michael recoiled from the sight with a sickening sadness. +Nevertheless he meant to find out if this woman knew aught of his old friends, +or of his origin. He rallied his forces to answer her. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t have to be like that,” he said, “I’ve +come down to look up my friends I tell you, and I want you to tell me if you +know anything about my parents. Did you ever hear anything about me? Did +anybody know who I was or how I came to be here?” +</p> + +<p> +The old woman looked at him only half comprehending, and tried to gather her +scattered faculties, but she shook her grizzled head hopelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t niver laid oies on yea before, an’ how cud I know +whar yez cum from, ner how yez cam to be here?” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +He perceived that it would require patience to extract information from this +source. +</p> + +<p> +“Try to think,” he said more gently. “Can you remember if +anyone ever belonged to the little boy they called Mikky? Was there ever any +mother or father, or—anybody that belonged to him at all.” +</p> + +<p> +Again, she shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Niver as Oi knows on. They said he just comed a wee babby to the coourt +a wanderin’ with the other childer, with scarce a rag to his back, +an’ a smile on him like the arch-angel, and some said as how he niver had +no father ner mother, but dthrapped sthraight frum the place where de angels +live.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did no one take care of him, or ever try to find out about +him?” questioned Michael wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Foind out, is it? Whist! An’ who would tak toime to foind out whin +ther’s so miny uv their own. Mikky was allus welcome to a bite an’ +a sup ef any uv us had it by. There wuz old Granny Bane with the rheumatiks. +She gave him a bed an’ a bite now an’ agin, till she died, an +afther that he made out to shift fer hisse’f. He was a moighty +indepindint babby.” +</p> + +<p> +“But had he no other name? Mikky what? What was his whole name?” +pursued Michael with an eagerness that could not give up the sought-for +information. +</p> + +<p> +The old woman only stared stupidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t he have any other name?” There was almost despair in +his tone. +</p> + +<p> +Another shake of the head. +</p> + +<p> +“Juist Mikky!” she said and her eyes grew dull once more. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me if there are any other people living here now that used +to know Mikky? Are there any other men or women who might remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“How kin Oi tell?” snarled the woman impatiently. “Oi +can’t be bothered.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood in troubled silence and the woman turned her head to watch a +neighbor coming down the street with a basket in her hand. It would seem that +her visitor interested her no longer. She called out some rough, ribaldry to +the woman who glanced up fiercely and deigned no further reply. Then Michael +tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“Could you tell me of the boys who used to go with Mikky?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Oi can’t,” she answered crossly, “Oi can’t +be bothered. Oi don’t know who they was.” +</p> + +<p> +“There was Jimmie and Sam and Bobs and Buck. Surely you remember Buck, +and little Janie. Janie who died after Mikky went away?” +</p> + +<p> +The bleared eyes turned full upon him again. +</p> + +<p> +“Janie? Fine Oi remimber Janie. They had a white hurse to her, +foiner’n any iver cum to the coourt before. The b’ys stayed up two +noights selling to git the money fur it, an’ Buck he stayed stiddy while +she was aloive. Pity she doied.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Buck?” demanded Michael with a sudden twinging of his +heart strings that seemed to bring back the old love and loyalty to his friend. +Buck had needed him perhaps all these years and he had not known. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s whot the <i>po</i>lice would like fer yez to answer, +I’m thinkin’!” laughed old Sal. “They wanted him bad +fer breakin’ into a house an’ mos’ killin’ the lady +an’ gittin’ aff wid de jewl’ry. He beat it dat noight +an’ ain’t none o’ us seen him these two year. He were a slick +one, he were awful smart at breakin’ an’ stealin’. Mebbe +Jimmie knows, but Jimmie, he’s in jail, serving his time fer +shootin’ a man in the hand durin’ a dhrunken fight. Jimmie, +he’s no good. Never wuz. He’s jest like his foither. Bobs, he got +both legs cut aff, bein’ runned over by a big truck, and he doied in the +horspittle. Bobs he were better dead. He’d uv gone loike the rist. Sam, +he’s round these parts mostly nights. Ye’ll hev to come at noight +ef yez want to see him. Mebbe he knows more ’bout Buck’n +he’ll tell.” +</p> + +<p> +Sick at heart Michael put question, after question but no more information was +forthcoming and the old woman showed signs of impatience again. Carefully +noting what she said about Sam and getting a few facts as to the best time and +place to find him Michael turned and walked sadly out of the alley. He did not +see the alert eyes of old Sal following him, nor the keen expression of her +face as she stretched her neck to see which way he turned as he left the alley. +As soon as he was out of sight she shuffled down from her doorstep to the +corner and peered after him through the morning sunshine. Then she went slowly, +thoughtfully back to her doorstep. +</p> + +<p> +“Now whut in the divil could he be a wantin’ wid Buck an’ +Sammie?” she muttered to herself. “All that story ’bout his +bein’ Mikky was puttin’ it on my eye, I’ll giv warnin’ +to Sammie this night, an’ ef Buck’s in these pairts he better git +out west some’res. The <i>po</i>lice uv got onto ’im. But hoiwiver +did they know he knowed Mikky? Poor little angel Mikky! I guv him the shtraight +about Bobs an’ Jimmie, fer they wuz beyant his troublin’ but +he’ll niver foind Sammie from the directin’ I sayed.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael, sorrowing, horror-filled, conscience-stricken, took his way to a +restaurant and ate his dinner, thinking meanwhile what he could do for the +boys. Could he perhaps visit Jimmie in prison and make his life more +comfortable in little ways? Could he plan something for him when he should come +out? Could he help Sam? The old woman had said little about Sam’s +condition. Michael thought he might likely by this time have built up a nice +little business for himself. Perhaps he had a prosperous news stand in some +frequented place. He looked forward eagerly to meeting him again. Sam had +always been a silent child dependent on the rest, but he was one of the little +gang and Michael’s heart warmed toward his former comrade. It could not +be that he would find him so loathsome and repulsive as the old woman Sal. She +made him heart-sick. Just to think of drinking soup from her dirty kettle! How +could he have done it? And yet, he knew no better life then, and he was hungry, +and a little child. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael mused, and all the time with a great heart-hunger to know what had +become of Buck. Could he and Sam together plan some way to find Buck and help +him out of his trouble? How could Buck have done anything so dreadful? And yet +even as he thought it he remembered that “pinching” had not been a +crime in his childhood days, not unless one was found out. How had these +principles, or lack of principles been replaced gradually in his own life +without his realizing it at all? It was all strange and wonderful. Practically +now he, Michael, had been made into a new creature since he left New York, and +so gradually, and pleasantly that he had not at all realized the change that +was going on in him. +</p> + +<p> +Yet as he thought and marvelled there shot through him a thought like a pang, +that perhaps after all it had not been a good thing, this making him into a new +creature, with new desires and aims and hopes that could never be fulfilled. +Perhaps he would have been happier, better off, if he had never been taken out +of that environment and brought to appreciate so keenly another one where he +did not belong, and could never stay, since this old environment was the one +where he must stay whether he would or no. He put the thought from him as +unworthy at once, yet the sharpness of the pang lingered and with it a vision +of Starr’s vivid face as he had seen her two nights before in her +father’s home, before he knew that the door of that home was shut upon +him forever. +</p> + +<p> +Michael passed the day in idly wandering about the city trying to piece +together his old knowledge, and the new, and know the city in which he had come +to dwell. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearing midnight, when Michael, by the advice of old Sal, and utterly +fearless in his ignorance, entered the court where his babyhood had been spent. +</p> + +<p> +The alley was dark and murky with the humidity of the summer night; but unlike +the morning hours it was alive with a writhing, chattering, fighting mass of +humanity. Doorways were overflowing. The narrow alley itself seemed fairly +thronging with noisy, unhappy men and women. Hoarse laughs mingled with rough +cursing, shot through with an occasional scream. Stifling odors lurked in +cellar doorways and struck one full in the face unawares. Curses seemed to be +the setting for all conversation whether angry or jolly. Babies tumbled in the +gutter and older children fought over some scrap of garbage. +</p> + +<p> +Appalled, Michael halted and almost turned back. Then, remembering that this +was where he had come from,—where he belonged,—and that his duty, +his obligation, was to find his friends, he went steadily forward. +</p> + +<p> +There sat old Sal, a belligerent gleam in her small sodden eyes. Four men on a +step opposite, with a candle stood between them, were playing cards. Sal +muttered a word as Michael approached and the candle was suddenly extinguished. +It looked as if one had carelessly knocked it down to the pavement, but the +glare nickered into darkness and Michael could no longer see the men’s +faces. He had wondered if one of them was Sam. But when he rubbed his eyes and +looked again in the darkness the four men were gone and the step was occupied +by two children holding a sleeping baby between them and staring at him in open +mouthed admiration. +</p> + +<p> +The flickering weird light of the distant street lamps, the noise and +confusion, the odors and curses filled him anew with a desire to flee, but he +would not let himself turn back. Never had Michael turned from anything that +was his duty from fear or dislike of anything. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to enter into conversation with old Sal again, but she would have none +of him. She had taken “a wee drapth” and was alert and suspicious. +In fact, the whole alley was on the alert for this elegant stranger who was +none of theirs, and who of course could have come but to spy on some one. He +wanted Sam, therefore Sam was hidden well and at that moment playing a crafty +game in the back of a cellar on the top of an old beer barrel, by the light of +a wavering candle; well guarded by sentinels all along the difficult way. +Michael could have no more found him under those circumstances than he could +have hoped to find a needle in a haystack the size of the whole city of New +York. +</p> + +<p> +He wandered for two hours back and forth through the alley seeing sights long +since forgotten, hearing words unspeakable; following out this and that +suggestion of the interested bystanders; always coming back without finding +Sam. He had not yet comprehended the fact that he was not intended to find Sam. +He had taken these people into his confidence just as he had always taken +everyone into his confidence, and they were playing him false. If they had been +the dwellers on Fifth Avenue he would not have expected them to be interested +in him and his plans and desires; but these were his very own people, at least +the “ownest” he had in the world, and among them he had once gone +freely, confidently. He saw no reason why they should have changed toward him, +though he felt the antagonism in the atmosphere as the night wore on, even as +he had felt it in the Endicott house the day before. +</p> + +<p> +Heartsick and baffled at last he took his way slowly, looking back many times, +and leaving many messages for Sam. He felt as if he simply could not go back to +even so uncomfortable a bed an he called his own in his new lodgings without +having found some clew to his old comrades. +</p> + +<p> +Standing at the corner of the alley opposite the flaunting lights of the saloon +he looked back upon the swarming darkness of the alley and his heart filled +with a great surging wave of pity, love, and sorrow. Almost at his feet in a +dark shadow of a doorway a tiny white-faced boy crouched fast asleep on the +stone threshold. It made him think of little Bobs, and his own barren +childhood, and a mist came before his eyes as he looked up, up at the sky where +the very stars seemed small and far away as if the sky had nothing to do with +this part of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, God!” he said under his breath. “Oh, God! I must do +something for them!” +</p> + +<p> +And then as if the opportunity came with the prayer there reeled into view a +little group of people, three or four men and a woman. +</p> + +<p> +The woman was talking in a high frightened voice and protesting. The men caught +hold of her roughly, laughing and flinging out coarse jests. Then another man +came stealing from the darkness of the alley and joined the group, seizing the +woman by the shoulders and speaking words to her too vile for repetition. In +terrible fear the girl turned, for Michael could see, now that she was nearer, +that she was but a young girl, and that she was pretty. Instantly he thought of +Starr and his whole soul rose in mighty wrath that any man should dare treat +any girl as he had seen these do. Then the girl screamed and struggled to get +away, crying: “It ain’t true, it ain’t true! Lem’me go! +I won’t go with you—” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Michael was upon them, his powerful arms and supple body dashing the +men right and left. And because of the suddenness of the attack coming from +this most unexpected quarter,—for Michael had stood somewhat in the +shadow—and because of the cowardliness of all bullies, for the moment he +was able to prevail against all four, just long enough for the girl to slip +like a wraith from their grasp and disappear into the shadows. +</p> + +<p> +Then when the men, dazed from surprise, though not seriously hurt, discovered +that their prey was gone and that a stranger from the higher walks of life had +frustrated their plans they fell upon him in their wrath. +</p> + +<p> +Michael brave always, and well trained in athletics, parried their blows for an +instant, but the man, the one who had come from the shadows of the alley, whose +face was evil, stole up behind and stabbed him in the shoulder. The sudden +faintness that followed made him less capable of defending himself. He felt he +was losing his senses, and the next blow from one of the men sent him reeling +into the street where he fell heavily, striking his head against the curbing. +There was a loud cry of murder from a woman’s shrill voice, the padded +rush of the villains into their holes, the distant ring of a policeman’s +whistle, and then all was quiet as a city night could be. Michael lay white and +still with his face looking up to the faint pitying moon so far away and his +beautiful hair wet with the blood that was flowing out on the pavement. There +he lay on the edge of the world that was his own and would not own him. He had +come to his own and his own received him not. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap09"></a>Chapter IX</h3> + +<p> +Michael awoke in the hospital with a bandage around his head and a stinging +pain in his shoulder whenever he tried to move. +</p> + +<p> +Back in his inner consciousness there sounded the last words he heard before he +fell, but he could not connect them with anything at first: +</p> + +<p> +“Hit him again, Sam!” +</p> + +<p> +Those were the words. What did they mean? Had he heard them or merely dreamed +them? And where was he? +</p> + +<p> +A glance about the long room with its rows of white beds each with an occupant +answered his question. He closed his eyes again to be away from all those other +eyes and think. +</p> + +<p> +Sam! He had been looking for Sam. Had Sam then come at last? Had Sam hit him? +Had Sam recognized him? Or was it another Sam? +</p> + +<p> +But there was something queer the matter with his head, and he could not think. +He put up his right arm to feel the bandage and the pain in his shoulder stung +again. Somehow to his feverish fancy it seemed the sting of Mrs. +Endicott’s words to him. He dropped his hand feebly and the nurse gave +him something in a spoon. Then half dreaming he fell asleep, with a vision of +Starr’s face as he had seen her last. +</p> + +<p> +Three weeks he lay upon that narrow white bed, and learned to face the +battalion of eyes from the other narrow beds around him; learned to distinguish +the quiet sounds of the marble lined room from the rumble of the unknown city +without; and when the rumble was the loudest his heart ached with the thought +of the alley and all the horrible sights and sounds that seemed written in +letters of fire across his spirit. +</p> + +<p> +He learned to look upon the quiet monotonous world of ministrations as a haven +from the world outside into which he must presently go; and in his weakened +condition he shrank from the new life. It seemed to be so filled with +disappointments and burdens of sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +But one night a man in his ward died and was carried, silent and covered from +the room. Some of his last moaning utterances had reached the ears of his +fellow sufferers with a swift vision of his life and his home, and his mortal +agony for the past, now that he was leaving it all. +</p> + +<p> +That night Michael could not sleep, for the court and the alley, and the whole +of sunken humanity were pressing upon his heart. It seemed to be his burden +that he must give up all his life’s hopes to bear. And there he had it +out with himself and accepted whatever should come to be his duty. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the wound on his head was healed, the golden halo had covered the +scar, and the cut in his shoulder, which had been only a flesh, wound, was +doing nicely. Michael, was allowed to sit up, and then to be about the room for +a day or two. +</p> + +<p> +It was in those days of his sitting up when the sun which crept in for an hour +a day reached and touched to flame his wonderful hair, that the other men of +the ward began to notice him. He seemed to them all as somehow set apart from +the rest; one who was lifted above what held them down to sin and earth. His +countenance spoke of strength and self-control, the two things that many of +those men lacked, either through constant sinning or through constant fighting +with poverty and trouble, and so, as he began to get about they sent for him to +come to their bedsides, and as they talked one and another of them poured out +his separate tale of sorrow and woe, till Michael felt he could bear no more. +He longed for power, great power to help; power to put these wretched men on +their feet again to lead a new life, power to crush some of the demons in human +form who were grinding them down to earth. Oh! for money and knowledge and +authority! +</p> + +<p> +Here was a man who had lost both legs in a defective machine he was running in +a factory. He was a skilled workman and had a wife and three little ones. But +he was useless now at his trade. No one wanted a man with no legs. He might +better be dead. Damages? No, there was no hope of that. He had accepted three +hundred dollars to sign a release. He had to. His wife and children were +starving and they must have the money then or perish. There was no other way. +Besides, what hope had he in fighting a great corporation? He was a poor man, a +stranger in this country, with no friends. The company had plenty who were +willing to swear it was the man’s own fault. +</p> + +<p> +Yonder was another who had tried to asphyxiate himself by turning on the gas in +his wretched little boarding-house room because he had lost his position on +account of ill health, and the firm wished to put a younger man in his place. +He had almost succeeded in taking himself out of this life. +</p> + +<p> +Next him was one, horribly burned by molten metal which he had been compelled +to carry without adequate precautions, because it was a cheaper method of +handling the stuff and men cost less than machinery. You could always get more +men. +</p> + +<p> +The man across from him was wasted away from insufficient food. He had been out +of work for months, and what little money he could pick up in odd jobs had gone +mostly to his wife and children. +</p> + +<p> +And so it was throughout the ward. On almost every life +sin,—somebody’s sin,—had left its mark. There were one or two +cheery souls who, though poor, were blest with friends and a home of some kind +and were looking forward to a speedy restoration; but these were the exception. +Nearly all the others blamed someone else for their unhappy condition and in +nearly every case someone else was undoubtedly to blame, even though in most +cases each individual had been also somewhat responsible. +</p> + +<p> +All this Michael gradually learned, as he began his practical study of +sociology. As he learned story after story, and began to formulate the facts of +each he came to three conclusions: First, that there was not room enough in the +city for these people to have a fair chance at the great and beautiful things +of life. Second, that the people of the cities who had the good things were +getting them all for themselves and cared not a straw whether the others went +without. Third, that somebody ought to be doing something about it, and why not +he? +</p> + +<p> +Of course it was absurd for a mere boy just out of college, with scarcely a +cent to his name—and not a whole name to call his own—to think of +attempting to attack the great problem of the people single-handed; but still +he felt he was called to do it, and he meant to try. +</p> + +<p> +He hadn’t an idea at this time whether anybody else had seen it just this +way or not. He had read a little of city missions, and charitable enterprises, +but they had scarcely reached his inner consciousness. His impression gathered +from such desultory reading had been that the effort in that direction was +sporadic and ineffective. And so, in his gigantic ignorance and egotism, yet +with his exquisite sensitiveness to the inward call, Michael henceforth set +himself to espouse the cause of the People. +</p> + +<p> +Was he not one of them? Had he not been born there that he might be one of +them, and know what they had to suffer? Were they not his kindred so far as he +had any kindred? Had he not been educated and brought into contact with higher +things that he might know what these other human souls might be if they had the +opportunity? If he had known a little more about the subject he would have +added “and if they <i>would</i>.” But he did not; he supposed all +souls were as willing to be uplifted as he had been. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went out from the hospital feeling that his life work was before him. +The solemn pledge he had taken as a little child to return and help his former +companions became a voluntary pledge of his young manhood. He knew very little +indeed about the matter, but he felt much, and he was determined to do, +wherever the way opened. He had no doubt but that the way would open. +</p> + +<p> +“Now young man, take care of yourself,” said the doctor in parting +from his patient a few days later, “and for the land’s sake keep +away from back alleys at night. When you know a little more about New York +you’ll learn that it’s best to keep just as far away from such +places as possible. Don’t go fooling around under the impression that you +can convert any of those blackguards. They need to be blown up, every one of +them, and the place obliterated. Mind, I say, keep away from them.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled and thanked the doctor, and walked unsteadily down the hospital +steps on feet that were strangely wobbly for him. But Michael did not intend to +obey the doctor. He had been turning the matter over in his mind and he had a +plan. And that very night about ten o’clock he went back to the alley. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal was sitting on her doorstep a little more intoxicated than the last +time, and the young man’s sudden appearance by her side startled her into +an Irish howl. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us!” she cried tottering to her feet. +“He’s cum back to us agin, sure he has! There’s no +killin’ him! He’s an angel shure. B’ys rin! bate it! bate it! +The angel’s here agin!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sound of scurrying feet and the place seemed to suddenly clear of +the children that had been under foot. One or two scowling men, or curiously +apathetic women in whose eyes the light of life had died and been left +unburied, peered from dark doorways. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood quietly until the howling of Sal had subsided, and then he spoke +in a clear tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell if Sam has been around here tonight? Is he anywhere near +here now?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no answer for a minute but some one growled out the information that +he might and then he might not have been. Some one else said he had just gone +away but they didn’t know where. Michael perceived that it was a good +deal as it had been before. +</p> + +<p> +“I have brought a message for him, a letter,” he said, and he spoke +so that anyone near-by might hear. “Will you give it to him when he +comes. He will want to see it, I am sure. It is important. I think he will be +glad to get it. It contains good news about an old friend of his.” +</p> + +<p> +He held out the letter courteously to old Sal, and she looked down at its white +crispness as though it had been a message from the lower regions sent to call +her to judgment. A letter, white, square-cornered and clean, with clear, firm +inscription, had never come within her gaze before. Old Sal had never learned +to read. The writing meant nothing to her, but the whole letter represented a +mystic communication from another world. +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively the neighbors gathered nearer to look at the letter, and Sal, +seeing herself the centre of observation, reached forward a dirty hand wrapped +in a corner of her apron, and took the envelope as though it had been hot, +eyeing it all the while fearfully. +</p> + +<p> +Then with his easy bow and touching his hat to her as though she had been a +queen, Michael turned and walked away out of the alley. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal stood watching him, a kind of wistful wonder in her bleary eyes. No +gentleman had ever tipped his hat to her, and no man had ever done her +reverence. From her little childhood she had been brought up to forfeit the +respect of men. Perhaps it had never entered her dull mind before that she +might have been aught but what she was; and that men might have given her +honor. +</p> + +<p> +The neighbors too were awed for the moment and stood watching in silence, till +when Michael turned the corner out of sight, Sal exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“Now that’s the angel, shure! No gintlemin would iver uv tipped his +’at to the loikes of Sal. Saints presarve us! That we should hev an angel +in this alley!” +</p> + +<p> +When Michael reached his lodging he found that he was trembling so from +weakness and excitement that he could scarcely drag himself up the three +flights to his room. So had his splendid strength been reduced by trouble and +the fever that came with his wounds. +</p> + +<p> +He lay down weakly and tried to think. Now he had done his best to find Sam. If +Sam did not come in answer to his letter he must wait until he found him. He +would not give up. So he fell asleep with the burden on his heart. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was as follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Sam:<br> + You can’t have forgotten Mikky who slept with you in the boiler room, +and with whom you shared your crusts. You remember I promised when I went away +to college I would come back and try to make things better for you all? And now +I have come and I am anxious to find the fellows and see what we can do +together to make life better in the old alley and make up for some of the hard +times when we were children. I have been down to the alley but can get no trace +of you. I spent the best part of one night hunting you and then a slight +accident put me in the hospital for a few days, but I am well now and am +anxious to find you all. I want to talk over old times, and find out where Buck +and Jim are; and hear all about Janie and little Bobs.<br> + I am going to leave this letter with Aunt Sally, hoping she will give it to +you. I have given my address below and should be glad to have you come and see +me at my room, or if you would prefer I will meet you wherever you say, and we +will go together and have something to eat to celebrate.<br> + Hoping to hear from you very soon, I am as always, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your brother and friend, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +MIKKY. +</p> + +<p> +“Address, Michael Endicott,<br> No —— West 23rd St.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days later a begrimed envelope addressed in pencil was brought to the +door by the postman. Michael with sinking heart opened it. It read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +MiKY ef yo be reely hym cum to KelLys karner at 10 tumoroW nite. Ef you are mIK +youz thee old whissel an doante bring no une wit yer Ef yO du I wunt be thar. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +SAM. +</p> + +<p> +Michael seated on his lumpy bed puzzled this out, word by word, until he made +fairly good sense of it. He was to go to Kelly’s corner. How memory +stirred at the words. Kelly’s corner was beyond the first turn of the +alley, it was at the extreme end of an alley within an alley, and had no outlet +except through Kelly’s saloon. Only the “gang” knew the name, +“Kelly’s Corner,” for it was not really a corner at all only +a sort of pocket or hiding place so entitled by Buck for his own and “de +kids” private purpose. If Michael had been at all inclined to be a coward +since his recent hard usage in the vicinity of the alley he would have kept +away from Kelly’s corner, for once in there with enemies, and alone, no +policeman’s club, nor hospital ambulance would ever come to help. The +things that happened at Kelly’s corner never got into the newspapers. +</p> + +<p> +Memory and instinct combined to make this perfectly dear to Michael’s +mind, and if he needed no other warning those words of the letter, +“Don’t bring no one with you. If you do, I won’t be +there,” were sufficient to make him wise. +</p> + +<p> +Yet Michael never so much as thought of not keeping the appointment. His +business was to find Sam, and it mattered as little to him now that danger +stood in the way as it had the day when he flung his neglected little body in +front of Starr Endicott and saved her from the assassin’s bullet. He +would go, of course, and go alone. Neither did it occur to him to take the +ordinary precaution of leaving his name and whereabouts at the police station +to be searched for in case he did not turn up in reasonable time. It was all in +the day’s work and Michael thought no more about the possible peril he +was facing than he had thought of broken limbs and bloody noses the last hour +before a football scrimmage. +</p> + +<p> +There was something else in the letter that interested Michael and stirred the +old memories. That old whistle! Of course he had not forgotten that, although +he had not used it much among his college companions. It was a strange, weird, +penetrating sound, between a call and whistle. He and Buck had made it up +between them. It was their old signal. When Michael went to college he had held +it sacred as belonging strictly to his old friends, and never, unless by +himself in the woods where none but the birds and the trees could hear, had he +let its echoes ring. Sometimes he had flung it forth and startled the mocking +birds, and once he had let it ring into the midst of his astonished comrades in +Florida when he was hidden from their view and they knew not who had made the +sound. He tried it now softly, and then louder and louder, until with sudden +fear he stopped lest his landlady should happen to come up that way and think +him insane. But undoubtedly he could give the old signal. +</p> + +<p> +The next night at precisely ten o’clock Michael’s ringing step +sounded down the alley; firm, decisive, secure. Such assurance must Daniel have +worn as he faced the den of lions; and so went the three Hebrew children into +the fiery furnace. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s him! It’s the angel!” whispered old Sal who was +watching. “Oi tould yez he’d come fer shure!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s got his nerve with him!” murmured a girl with bold eyes +and a coarse kind of beauty, as she drew further back into the shadow of the +doorway. “He ain’t comin’ out again so pretty I guess. Not if +Sam don’t like. Mebbe he ain’t comin’ out ’tall!” +</p> + +<p> +“Angels has ways, me darlint!” chuckled Sal. “He’ll +come back al roight, ye’ll see!” +</p> + +<p> +On walked Michael, down the alley to the narrow opening that to the uninitiated +was not an opening between the buildings at all, and slipped in the old way. He +had thought it all out in the night. He was sure he knew just how far beyond +Sal’s house it was; on into the fetid air of the close dark place, the +air that struck him in the face like a hot, wet blanket as he kept on. +</p> + +<p> +It was very still all about when he reached the point known as Kelly’s +corner. It had not been so as he remembered it. It had been the place of plots, +the hatching of murders and robberies. Had it so changed that it was still +tonight? He stood for an instant hesitating. Should he wait a while, or knock +on some door? Would it be any use to call? +</p> + +<p> +But the instinct of the slums was upon him again, his birthright. It seemed to +drop upon him from the atmosphere, a sort of stealthy patience. He would wait. +Something would come. He must do as he had done with the birds of the forest +when he wished to watch their habits. He must stand still unafraid and show +that he was harmless. +</p> + +<p> +So he stood three, perhaps five minutes, then softly at first and gradually +growing clearer, he gave the call that he had given years before, a little +barefoot, hungry child in that very spot many times. +</p> + +<p> +The echo died away. There was nothing to make him know that a group of curious +alley-dwellers huddled at the mouth of the trap in which he stood, watching +with eyes accustomed to the darkness, to see what would happen; to block his +escape if escape should be attempted. +</p> + +<p> +Then out of the silence a sigh seemed to come, and out of the shadows one +shadow unfolded itself and came forward till it stood beside him. Still Michael +did not stir; but softly, through, half-open lips, breathed the signal once +more. +</p> + +<p> +Sibilant, rougher, with a hint of menace as it issued forth the signal was +answered this time, and with a thrill of wonder the mantle of the old life fell +upon Michael once more. He was Mikky—only grown more wise. Almost the old +vernacular came to his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“Hi! Sam! That you?” +</p> + +<p> +The figure in the darkness seemed to stiffen with sudden attention. The voice +was like, and yet not like the Mikky of old. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot yous want?” questioned a voice gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you, Sam. I want to see if you look as you used to, and I want to +know about the boys. Can’t we go where there’s light and talk a +little? I’ve been days hunting you. I’ve come back because I +promised, you know. You expected me to come back some day, didn’t you, +Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was surprised to find how eager he was for the answer to this question. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, what ye givin’ us?” responded the suspicious Sam. +“D’yous s’pose I b’lieve all that gag about yer +comin’ here to he’p we’uns? Wot would a guy like yous wid all +dem togs an’ all dem fine looks want wid us? Yous has got above us. Yous +ain’t no good to us no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam scratched a match on his trousers and lit an old pipe that he held between +his teeth, but as the match flared up and showed his own face a lowering brow, +shifty eyes, a swarthy, unkempt visage, sullen and sly, the shifty eyes were +not looking at the pipe but up at the face above him which shone out white and +fine with its gold halo in the little gleam in the dark court. The watchers +crowding at the opening of the passage saw his face, and almost fancied there +were soft shadowy wings behind him. It was thus with old Sal’s help that +Michael got his name again, “The Angel.” It was thus he became the +“angel of the alley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sam!” he said, and his voice was very gentle, although he was +perfectly conscious that behind him there were two more shadows of men and more +might be lurking in the dark corners. “Sam, if you remember me you will +know I couldn’t forget; and I do care. I came back to find you. +I’ve always meant to come, all the time I was in college. I’ve had +it in mind to come back here and make some of the hard things easier +for”—he hesitated, and—“for <i>us</i> all.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did yous figger yous was goin’ to do that?” Sam asked, +his little shifty eyes narrowing on Michael, as he purposely struck another +match to watch the effect of his words. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael’s wonderful smile lit up his face, and Sam, however much he +may have pretended to doubt, knew in his deepest heart that this was the same +Mikky of old. There was no mistaking that smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall need you to help me in figuring that out, Sam. That’s why +I was so anxious to find you.” +</p> + +<p> +A curious grunt from behind Michael warned him that the audience was being +amused at the expense of Sam, Sam’s brows were lowering. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph!” he said, ungraciously striking a third match just in time +to watch Michael’s face. “Where’s yer pile?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Got the dough?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said Michael comprehendingly, “no, I haven’t got +money, Sam. I’ve only my education.” +</p> + +<p> +“An’ wot good’s it, I’d like to know. Tell me +those?” +</p> + +<p> +“So much good that I can’t tell it all in one short talk,” +answered Michael steadily. “We’ll have to get better acquainted and +then I hope I can make you understand how it has helped. Now tell me about the +others. Where is Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a dead silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s hard to say!” at last muttered Sam irresponsibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know? Haven’t you any kind of an idea, Sam? +I’d so like to hunt him up.” +</p> + +<p> +The question seemed to have produced a tensity in the very atmosphere, Michael +felt it. +</p> + +<p> +“I might, an’ then agin’ I might not,” answered Sam in +that tone of his that barred the way for further questions. +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t you and I find him and—and—help him, Sam? +Aunt Sally said he was in trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Another match was scratched and held close to his face while the narrow eyes of +Sam seemed to pierce his very soul before Sam answered with an ugly laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he don’t need none o’ your help, you bet. He’s lit +out. You don’t need to worry ’bout Buck, he kin take car’ +o’ hisse’f every time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But won’t he come back sometime?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t say. It’s hard to tell,” non-committally. +</p> + +<p> +“And Jim?” Michael’s voice was sad. +</p> + +<p> +“Jim, he’s doin’ time,” sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry!” said Michael sadly, and a strange hush came +about the dark group. Now why should this queer chap be sorry? No one else +cared, unless it might be Jim, and Jim had got caught. It was nothing to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell me about Janie—and little Bobs—” The +questioner paused. His voice was very low. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, cut it out!” snarled Sam irritably. “Don’t come +any high strikes on their account. They’re dead an’ you can’t +dig ’em up an’ weep over ’em. Hustle up an’ tell us wot +yer wantin’ to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Sam,” said Michael trying to ignore the natural repulsion he +felt at the last words of his one-time friend, “suppose you take lunch +with me tomorrow at twelve. Then we can talk over things and get back old +times. I will tell you all about my college life and you must tell me all you +are doing.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam was silent from sheer astonishment. Take lunch! Never in his life had he +been invited out to luncheon. Nor had he any desire for an invitation now. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” he asked after a silence so long that Michael began to +fear he was not going to answer at all. +</p> + +<p> +Michael named a place not far away. He had selected it that morning. It was +clean, somewhat, yet not too clean. The fare was far from princely, but it +would do, and the locality was none too respectable. Michael was enough of a +slum child still to know that his guest would never go with him to a really +respectable restaurant, moreover he would not have the wardrobe nor the +manners. He waited Sam’s answer breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Sam gave a queer little laugh as if taken off his guard. The place named was so +entirely harmless, to his mind, and the whole matter of the invitation took on +the form of a great joke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I might,” he drawled indifferently. “I won’t +make no promises, but I might, an’ then again I might not. It’s +jes’ as it happens. Ef I ain’t there by twelve sharp you +needn’t wait. Jes’ go ahead an’ eat. I wouldn’t want to +spoil yer digestion fer my movements.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall wait!” said Michael decidedly with his pleasant voice +ringing clear with satisfaction. “You will come, Sam, I know you will. +Good night!” +</p> + +<p> +And then he did a most extraordinary thing. He put out his hand, his clean, +strong hand, warm and healthy and groping with the keenness of low, found the +hardened grimy hand of his one-time companion, and gripped it in a hearty +grasp. +</p> + +<p> +Sam started back with the instant suspicion of attack, and then stood shamedly +still for an instant. The grip of that firm, strong hand, the touch of +brotherhood, a touch such as had never come to his life before since he was a +little child, completed the work that the smile had begun, and Sam knew that +Mikky, the real Mikky was before him. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael walked swiftly down that narrow passage,—at the opening of +which, the human shadows scattered silently and fled, to watch from other +furtive doorways,—down through the alley unmolested, and out into the +street once more. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us! Wot did I tell yez?” whispered Sal. +“It’s the angel all right fer shure.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder wot he done to Sam,” murmured the girl. “He’s +got his nerve all right, he sure has. Ain’t he beautiful!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap10"></a>Chapter X</h3> + +<p> +Michael went early to his lunch party. He was divided between wondering if his +strange guest would put in an appearance at all; if he did, what he should talk +about; and how he would pilot him through the embarrassing experience of the +meal. One thing he was determined upon. He meant to find out if possible +whether Sam knew anything about his, Michael’s, origin. It was scarcely +likely; and yet, Sam might have heard some talk by older people in the +neighborhood. His one great longing was to find out and clear his name of shame +if possible. +</p> + +<p> +There was another thing that troubled Michael. He was not sure that he would +know Sam even supposing that he came. The glimpse he had caught the night +before when the matches were struck was not particularly illuminating. He had a +dim idea that Sam was below the medium height; with thin, sallow face; small, +narrow eyes; a slouching gait; and a head that was not wide enough from front +to back. He had a feeling that Sam had not room enough in his brain for seeing +all that ought to be seen. Sam did not understand about education. Would he +ever be able to make him understand? +</p> + +<p> +Sam came shuffling along ten minutes after twelve. His sense of dignity would +not have allowed him to be on time. Besides, he wanted to see if Michael would +wait as he had said. It was a part of the testing of Michael; not to prove if +he were really Mikky, but to see what stuff he was made of, and how much he +really had meant of what he said. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was there, standing anxiously outside the eating house. He did not +enjoy the surroundings nor the attention he was attracting. He was too well +dressed for that locality, but these were the oldest clothes he had. He would +have considered them quite shabby at college. He was getting worried lest after +all his plan had failed. Then Sam slouched along, his hat drawn down, his hands +in his pockets, and wearing an air of indifference that almost amounted to +effrontery. He greeted Michael as if there had been no previous arrangement and +this were a chance meeting. There was nothing about his manner to show that he +had purposely come late to put him to the test, but Michael knew intuitively it +was so. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we go in now?” said Michael smiling happily. He found he was +really glad that Sam had come, repulsive in appearance though he was, hard of +countenance and unfriendly in manner. He felt that he was getting on just a +little in his great object of finding out and helping his old friends, and +perhaps learning something more of his own history. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, I donno’s I care ’bout it!” drawled Sam, just as +if he had not intended going in all the time, nor had been thinking of the +“feed” all the morning in anticipation. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you better,” said Michael putting a friendly hand on the +others’ shoulder. If he felt a repugnance to touching the tattered, +greasy coat of his one-time friend, he controlled it, remembering how he had +once worn garments far more tattered and filthy. The greatness of his desire to +uplift made him forget everything else. It was the absorption of a supreme task +that had come upon the boy to the exclusion of his own personal tastes. +</p> + +<p> +It was not that Michael was so filled with love for this miserable creature who +used to be his friend, nor so desired to renew old associations after these +long years of separation; it was the terrible need, the conditions of which had +been called vividly to his experience, that appealed to his spirit like a call +of authority to which he answered proudly because of what had once been done +for him. It had come upon him without his knowledge, suddenly, with the revival +of old scenes and memories, but as with all workers for humanity it had gone so +deeply into his soul as to make him forget even that there was such a thing as +sacrifice. +</p> + +<p> +They passed into the restaurant. Michael in his well-made clothing and with his +strikingly handsome face and gold hair attracting at once every eye in the +place: Sam with an insolent air of assurance to cover a sudden embarrassment of +pride at the company he was in. +</p> + +<p> +Michael gave a generous order, and talked pleasantly as they waited. Sam sat in +low-browed silence watching him furtively, almost disconcertingly. +</p> + +<p> +It was when they had reached the course of three kinds of pie and a dab of +dirty looking, pink ice cream professing to be fresh strawberry, that Michael +suddenly looked keenly at his guest and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing now, Sam? In business for yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes narrowed until they were almost eclipsed, though a keen steel +glitter could be seen beneath the colorless lashes. A kind of mask, +impenetrable as lead, seemed to have settled over his face, which had been +gradually relaxing during the meal into a half indulgent grin of interest in +his queer host. +</p> + +<p> +“Yas, I’m in business fer myself,” he drawled at last after +carefully scrutinizing the other’s face to be sure there was no +underlying motive for the question. +</p> + +<p> +“News-stand?” asked Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Not eggs-act-ly!” +</p> + +<p> +“What line?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam finished his mince pie and began on the pumpkin before he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, ther’s sev’ral!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so? Got more than one string to your bow? That’s a good +thing. You’re better off than I am. I haven’t looked around for a +job yet. I thought I’d get at it tomorrow. You see I wanted to look you +fellows up first before I got tied down to anything where I couldn’t get +off when I wanted to. Perhaps you can put me onto something. How about +it?” +</p> + +<p> +It was characteristic of Michael that he had not once thought of going to +Endicott for the position and help offered him, since the setting down he had +received from Mrs. Endicott. The time appointed for his going to +Endicott’s office was long since passed. He had not even turned the +matter over in his mind once since that awful night of agony and renunciation. +Mrs. Endicott had told him that her husband “had done enough for +him” and he realized that this was true. He would trouble him no more. +Sometime perhaps the world would turn around so that he would have opportunity +to repay Endicott’s kindness that he might not repay in money, but until +then Michael would keep out of his way. It was the one poor little rag of pride +he allowed himself from the shattering of all his hopes. +</p> + +<p> +Sam narrowed his eyes and looked Michael through, then slowly widened them +again, an expression of real interest coming into them. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! Do you mean it?” he asked doubtfully. “Be you straight +goods? Would you come back into de gang an not snitch on us ner +nothin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m straight goods, Sam, and I won’t snitch!” said +Michael quickly. He knew that he could hope for no fellow’s confidence if +he “snitched.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, say, I’ve a notion to tell yeh!” +</p> + +<p> +Sam attacked his ice cream contemplatively. +</p> + +<p> +“How would a bluff game strike you?” he asked suddenly as the last +delectable mouthful of cream disappeared and he pulled the fresh cup of coffee +toward him that the waiter had just set down. +</p> + +<p> +“What sort?” said Michael wondering what he was coming on in the +way of revelation, but resolving not to be horrified at anything. Sam must not +suspect until he could understand what a difference education had made in the +way of looking at things. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, there’s diffrunt ways. Cripple’s purty good. Foot all +tied up in bloody rags, arm an’ hand tied up, a couple o’ old +crutches. I could lend the clo’es. They’d be short fer yeh, but +that’d be all the better gag. We cud swap an’ I’d do the +gen’lman act a while.” He looked covetously at Michael’s +handsome brown tweeds—“Den you goes fom house to house, er you +stands on de corner—” +</p> + +<p> +“Begging!” said Michael aghast. His eyes were on his plate and he +was trying to control his voice, but something of his horror crept into his +tones. Sam felt it and hastened on apologetically— +</p> + +<p> +“Er ef you want to go it one better, keep on yer good cloes an’ +have the asthma bad. I know a feller what’ll teach you how, an’ +sell you the whistles to put in yer mouth. You’ve no notion how it works. +You just go around in the subbubs tellin’ thet you’ve only been out +of the ’orspittal two days an’ you walked all this way to get work +an’ couldn’t get it, an’ you want five cents to get +back—see? Why, I know a feller—course he’s been at it fer +years an’ he has his regular beats—folks don’t seem to +remember—and be can work the ground over ’bout once in six months +er so, and he’s made’s high’s thirty-eight dollars in a day +at asthma work.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam paused triumphant to see what effect the statement had on his friend, but +Michael’s face was toward his coffee cup. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems sort of small business for a man!” he said at last, his +voice steady with control. “Don’t believe I’d be good at +that? Haven’t you got something that’s real <i>work</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes narrowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ef I thought you was up to it,” he murmured. “You’d be +great with that angel face o’ yourn. Nobody’d ever suspect you. You +could wear them clo’es too. But it’s work all right, an’ +mighty resky. Ef I thought you was up to it—” He continued to look +keenly at Michael, and Michael, with innate instinct felt his heart beat in +discouraged thumps. What new deviltry was Sam about to propose? +</p> + +<p> +“You used to be game all right!” murmured Sam interrogatively. +“You never used to scare easy—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, I’ll tell you,” in answer to Michael’s +questioning eyes which searched his little sharp wizened face—Michael was +wondering if there was anything in that face to redeem it from utter +repulsiveness. +</p> + +<p> +“You see it’s a reg’ler business, an’ you hev to learn, +but I’d give you pinters, all you’d need to know, I’m pretty +slick myself. There’s tools to open things, an’ you hev to be ready +to ’xplain how you come thur an’ jolly up a parlor maid +per’aps. It’s easy to hev made a mistake in the house, er be a gas +man er a plumber wot the boss sent up to look at the pipes. But night +work’s best pay after you get onto things. Thur’s houses where you +ken lay your han’s on things goin’ into the thousands an’ +lots ov um easy to get rid of without anybody findin’ out. There’s +Buck he used to be great at it. He taught all the gang. The day he lit out he +bagged a bit o’ glass wuth tree tousand dollars, ’sides a whole +handful of fivers an’ tens wot he found lyin’ on a dressin’ +table pretty as you please. Buck he were a slick one at it. He’d be +pleased to know you’d took up the work—” +</p> + +<p> +Sam paused and eyed Michael with the first friendly gleam he had shown in his +eyes, and Michael, with his heart in a tumult of varied emotions, and the quick +color flooding brow and cheek, tried to hold himself in check. He must not +speak too hastily. Perhaps he had not understood Sam’s meaning. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Buck?” Michael looked Sam straight in the eye. The small +pupils seemed to contract and shut out even his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“They ain’t never got a trace of Buck,” he said evasively. +</p> + +<p> +“But don’t you know?” There was something in Michael’s +look that demanded an answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I might an’ I might not,” responded Sam sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was still for several seconds watching Sam; each trying to understand +the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think he will come back where I can see him?” he asked at +length. +</p> + +<p> +“He might, an’ he might not. ’t depends. Ef you was in +th’ bizness he might. It’s hard to say. ’t depends.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched Sam again thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me more about the business,” he said at last, his lips +compressed, his brows drawn down into a frown of intensity. +</p> + +<p> +“Thur ain’t much, more t’tell,” said Sam, still sullen. +“I ain’t sure you’re up to it?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t sure you got de sand. You might turn faint and +snitch.” Sam leaned forward and spoke in low rapid sentences. “Wen +we’d got a big haul, ’sposen you’d got into de house +an’ done de pinchin’, and we got the stuff safe hid, an’ you +got tuk up? Would you snitch? Er would you take your pill like a man? +That’s what I’d want to be sure. Mikky would a’ stood by the +gang, but you—you’ve had a edicashun! They might go soft at +college. I ain’t much use fer edicated persons myself. But I’ll +give you a show ef you promise stiff not to snitch. We’ve got a big game +on tonight up on Madison Avenue, an’ we’re a man short. +Dere’s dough in it if we make it go all right. Rich man. Girl goin’ +out to a party tonight. She’s goin’ to wear some dimons wurth a +penny. Hed it in de paper. Brung ’em home from de bank this +mornin’. One o’ de gang watched de feller come out o’ de +bank. It’s all straight so fur. It’s a pretty big haul to let you +in de first try, an’ you’ll hev to run all de risks; but ef you +show you’re game we’ll make it a bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael held himself tensely and fought the desire to choke the fellow before +him; tried to remember that he was the same Sam who had once divided a crust +with him, and whom he had come to help; reflected that he might have been as +bad himself if he had never been taken from the terrible environment of the +slums and shown a better way; knew that if he for one fraction of a second +showed his horror at the evil plot, or made any attempt to stop it all hope of +reaching Sam, or Buck, or any of the others was at an end; and with it all hope +of finding any stray links of his own past history. Besides, though honor was +strong in him and he would never “snitch” on his companions, it +would certainly be better to find out as much as possible about the scheme. +There might be other ways besides “snitching” of stopping such +things. Then suddenly his heart almost stopped beating, Madison Avenue! Sam had +said Madison Avenue, and a girl! What if it were Starr’s jewels they were +planning to take. He knew very little about such matters save what he had read. +It did not occur to him that Starr was not yet “out” in society; +that she would be too young to wear costly jewels and have her costume put in +the paper. He only knew that his heart was throbbing again painfully, and that +the fellow before him seemed too vile to live longer on the same earth with +Starr, little, beautiful, exquisite Starr. +</p> + +<p> +He was quite still when Sam had finished; his face was white with emotion and +his eyes were blazing blue flames when he raised them to look at Sam. Then he +became aware that his answer was awaited. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, do you mean <i>burglary</i>?” He tried to keep his voice low +and steady as he spoke but he felt as if he had shouted the last word. The +restaurant was almost empty now, and the waiters had retired behind the scenes +amid a clatter of dishes. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s about as pretty a word as you can call it, I guess,” +said Sam, drawing back with a snarl as he saw the light in Michael’s +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked him through for an instant, and if a glance can burn then surely +Sam’s little soul shrank scorching into itself, but it was so brief that +the brain which was only keen to things of the earth had not analyzed it. +Michael dropped his glance to the table again, and began playing with his spoon +and trying to get calm with a deep breath as he used to when he knew a hard +spot in a ball game was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why don’t you speak? You ’fraid?” It was said +with a sneer that a devil from the pit might have given. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael sat up calmly. His heart was beating steadily now and he was +facing his adversary. +</p> + +<p> +“No! I’m not afraid, Sam, if there were any good reason for going, +but you know I never could feel comfortable in getting my living off somebody +else. It doesn’t seem fair to the other fellow. You see they’ve got +a right to the things they own and I haven’t; and because I might be +smart enough to catch them napping and sneak away with what they prize +doesn’t make it right either. Now that girl probably thinks a lot of her +diamonds, you see, and it doesn’t seem quite the manly thing for a big +strong fellow like me to get them away from her, does it? Of course you may +think differently, but I believe I’d rather do some good hard work that +would keep my muscles in trim, than to live off some one else. There’s a +kind of pretty gray moss that grows where I went to college. It floats along a +little seed blown in the air first and lodges on the limb of a tree and begins +to fasten itself into the bark, and grow and grow and suck life from the big +tree. It doesn’t seem much at first, and it seems as if the big tree +might spare enough juice to the little moss. But wait a few years and see what +happens. The moss grows and drapes itself in great long festoons all over that +tree and by and by the first thing you know that tree has lost all its green +leaves and stands up here stark and dead with nothing on its bare branches but +that old gray moss which has to die too because it has nothing to live on any +longer. It never learned to gather any juice for itself. They call the moss a +parasite. I couldn’t be a human parasite, Sam. You may feel differently +about it, but I couldn’t. I really couldn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes had grown dreamy and lost their fire as he remembered the +dear South land, and dead sentinel pines with their waving gray festoons +against the ever blue sky. As he talked he saw the whole great out-of-doors +again where he had wandered now so many years free and happy; free from burdens +of humanity which were pressing him now so sorely. A great longing to fly back +to it all, to get away from the sorrow and the degradation and the shame which +seemed pressing so hard upon him, filled his heart, leaped into his eyes, +caught and fascinated the attention of the listening Sam, who understood very +little of the peroration. He had never heard of a parasite. He did not know he +had always been a human parasite. He was merely astonished and a trifle +fascinated by the passion and appeal in Michael’s face as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Gosh!” he said in a tone almost of admiration. “Gosh! Is +that wot edicashun done fer you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said Michael pleasantly, “though I rather think, +Sam, that I always felt a bit that way, I just didn’t know how to say +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you allus was queer!” muttered Sam half apologetically. +“I couldn’t see it that way myself, as you say, but o’ course +it’s your fun’ral! Ef you kin scratch up enough grub bein’ a +tree, why that’s your own lookout. Moss is good ’nough fer me fer +de present.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael beamed his wonderful smile on Sam and answered: “Perhaps +you’ll see it my way some day, Sam, and then we can get a job +together!” +</p> + +<p> +There was so much comraderie in the tone, and so much dazzling brilliancy in +the smile that Sam forgot to be sullen. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, mebbe,” he chuckled, “but I don’t see no +edicashun comin’ my way dis late day, so I guess I’ll git along de +way I be.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t too late yet, Sam. There’s more than one way of +getting an education. It doesn’t always come through college.” +</p> + +<p> +After a little more talk in which Sam promised to find out if there was any way +for Michael to visit Jim in his temporary retirement from the law-abiding +world, and Michael promised to visit Sam in the alley again at an appointed +time, the two separated. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael went forth to reconnoitre and to guard the house of Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +With no thought of any personal danger, Michael laid his plans. Before sundown, +he was on hand, having considered all visible and invisible means of ingress to +the house. He watched from a suitable distance all who came and went. He saw +Mr. Endicott come home. He waited till the evening drew near when a luxurious +limousine stopped before the door; assured himself that only Mrs. Endicott had +gone out. A little later Mr. Endicott also left the house. Starr had not gone +out. He felt that he had double need to watch now as she was there alone with +only the servants. +</p> + +<p> +Up and down he walked. No one passed the Endicott house unwatched by him. None +came forth or went in of whom he did not take careful notice. +</p> + +<p> +The evening passed, and the master and mistress of the house returned. One by +one the lights went out. Even in the servants’ rooms all was dark at +last. The night deepened and the stars thickened overhead. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman’s whistle sounded through the quiet streets and the city +seemed at last to be sinking into a brief repose. It was long past midnight, +and still Michael kept up his patrol. Up this side of the street, down that, +around the corner, through the alley at the back where “de kids” +had stood in silent respect uncovered toward his window years ago; back to the +avenue again, and on around. With his cheery whistle and his steady ringing +step he awakened no suspicion even when he came near to a policeman; and +besides, no lurkers of the dark would steal out while he was so noisily in the +neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +And so he watched the night through, till the morning broke and sunshine +flooded the window of the room where Starr, unconscious of his vigil, lay +a-sleeping. +</p> + +<p> +Busy milk wagons were making their rounds, and sleepy workmen with dinner pails +slung over their arms were striding to their day’s work through the cool +of the morning, as Michael turned his steps toward his lodging. Broad morning +was upon them and deeds of darkness could be no more. The night was passed. +Nothing had happened. Starr was safe. He went home and to sleep well pleased. +He might not companion with her, but it was his privilege to guard her from +unsuspected evils. That was one joy that could not be taken from him by the +taint that was upon him. Perhaps his being a child of the slums might yet prove +to be a help to guard her life from harm. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap11"></a>Chapter XI</h3> + +<p> +It was the first week in September that Michael, passing through a crowded +thoroughfare, came face to face with Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +The days had passed into weeks and Michael had not gone near his benefactor. He +had felt that he must drop out of his old friend’s life until a time came +that he could show his gratitude for the past. Meantime he had not been idle. +His winning smile and clear eyes had been his passport; and after a few +preliminary experiences he had secured a position as salesman in a large +department store. His college diploma and a letter from the college president +were his references. He was not earning much, but enough to pay his absolute +expenses and a trifle over. Meantime he was gaining experience. +</p> + +<p> +This Saturday morning of the first week of September he had come to the store +as usual, but had found that on account of the sudden death of a member of the +firm the store would be closed for the day. +</p> + +<p> +He was wondering how he should spend his holiday and wishing that he might get +out into the open and breathe once more the free air under waving trees, and +listen to the birds, and the waters and the winds. He was half tempted to +squander a few cents and go to Coney Island or up the Hudson, somewhere, +anywhere to get out of the grinding noisy tempestuous city, whose sin and +burden pressed upon his heart night and day because of that from which he had +been saved; and of that from which he had not the power to save others. +</p> + +<p> +Then out of an open doorway rushed a man, going toward a waiting automobile, +and almost knocking Michael over in his progress. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! It is you, young man! At last! Well, I should like to know what you +have done with yourself all these weeks and why you didn’t keep your +appointment with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said Michael, pleasure and shame striving together in his +face. He could see that the other man was not angry, and was really relieved to +have found him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you going, son?” Endicotts tone had already changed from +gruffness to kindly welcome. “Jump in and run down to the wharf with me +while you give an account of yourself. I’m going down to see Mrs. +Endicott off to Europe. She is taking Starr over to school this winter. +I’m late already, so jump in.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael seemed to have no choice and stepped into the car, which was whirled +through the intricate maze of humanity and machinery down toward the regions +where the ocean-going steamers harbor. +</p> + +<p> +His heart was in a tumult at once, both of embarrassed joy to be in the +presence of the man who had done so much for him, and of eager anticipation. +Starr! Would he see Starr again? That was the thought uppermost in his mind. He +had not as yet realized that she was going away for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +All the spring time he had kept guard over the house in Madison Avenue. Not all +night of course, but hovering about there now and then, and for two weeks after +he had talked with Sam, nightly. Always he had walked that way before retiring +and looked toward the window where burned a soft light. Then they had gone to +the seashore and the mountains and the house had put on solemn shutters and +lain asleep. +</p> + +<p> +Michael knew all about it from a stray paragraph in the society column of the +daily paper which he happened to read. +</p> + +<p> +Toward the end of August he had made a round through Madison Avenue every night +to see if they had returned home, and for a week the shutters had been down and +the lights burning as of old. It had been good to know that his charge was back +there safely. And now he was to see her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Give an account of yourself. Were you trying to keep out of my +sight? Why didn’t you come to my office?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked him straight in the eye with his honest, clear gaze that showed +no sowing of wild oats, no dissipation or desire to get away from friendly +espionage. He decided in a flash of a thought that this man should never know +the blow his beautiful, haughty wife had dealt him. It was true, all she had +said, and he, Michael, would give the real reason why he had not come. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I thought you had done for me far more than I deserved already, +and I did not wish to be any further burden to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dickens you did!” exclaimed Endicott. “You +good-for-nothing rascal, didn’t you know you would be far more of a +burden running off in that style without leaving a trace of yourself behind so +I could hunt you up, than if you had behaved yourself and done as I told you? +Here I have been doing a lot of unnecessary worrying about you. I thought you +had fallen among thieves or something, or else gone to the dogs. Don’t +you know that is a most unpardonable thing to do, run off from a man who has +told you he wants to see you? I thought I made you understand that I had more +than a passing interest in your welfare!” +</p> + +<p> +The color came into the fine, strong face and a pained expression in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t think of it that way. I thought you +felt some kind of an obligation; I never felt so, but you said you did; and I +thought if I got out of your way I would trouble you no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble me! Trouble me! Why, son, I like to be troubled once in a while +by something besides getting money and spending it. You never gave me a shadow +of trouble, except these last weeks when you’ve disappeared and I +couldn’t do anything for you. You’ve somehow crept into my life and +I can’t get you out. In fact, I don’t want to. But, boy, if you +felt that way, what made you come to New York at all? You didn’t feel +that way the night you came to my house to dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes owned that this was true, but his firm lips showed that he +would never betray the real reason for the change. +</p> + +<p> +“I—didn’t—realize—sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Realize? Realize what?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t realize the difference between my station and yours, sir. +There had never been anything during my years in school to make me know. I am a +‘child of the slums’”—unconsciously he drifted into +quotations from Mrs. Endicott’s speech to him—“and you belong +to a fine old family. I don’t know what terrible things are in my blood. +You have riches and a name beyond reproach—” He had seen the words +in an article he had read the evening before, and felt that they fitted the man +and the occasion. He did not know that he was quoting. They had become a part +of his thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“I might make the riches if I tried hard,” he held up his head +proudly, “but I could never make the name. I will always be a child of +the slums, no matter what I do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Child of the fiddlesticks!” interrupted Endicott. “Wherever +did you get all that, rot? It sounds as if you had been attending society +functions and listening to their twaddle. It doesn’t matter what you are +the child of, if you’re a mind to be a man. This is a free country, son, +and you can be and climb where you please. Tell me, where did you get all these +ideas?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down. He did not wish to answer. +</p> + +<p> +“In a number of places,” he answered evasively. +</p> + +<p> +“Where!” +</p> + +<p> +“For one thing, I’ve been down to the alley where I used to +live.” The eyes were looking into his now, and Endicott felt a strange +swelling of pride that he had had a hand in the making of this young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know from what you’ve taken me—I can never be what you +are!” +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore you won’t try to be anything? Is that it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no! I’ll try to be all that I can, but—I don’t +belong with you. I’m of another class—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, bosh! Cut that out, son! Real men don’t talk like that. +You’re a better man now than any of the pedigreed dudes I know of, and as +for taints in the blood, I could tell you of some of the sons of great men who +have taints as bad as any child of the slums. Young man, you can be whatever +you set out to be in this world! Remember that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everyone does not feel that way,” said Michael with conviction, +though he was conscious of great pleasure in Endicott’s hearty words. +</p> + +<p> +“Who, for instance?” asked Endicott looking at him sharply. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was silent. He could not tell him. +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” asked the insistent voice once more. +</p> + +<p> +“The world!” evaded Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“The world is brainless. You can make the world think what you like, son, +remember that! Here we are. Would you like to come aboard?” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael stood back. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I will wait here,” he said gravely. It had come to him +that Mrs. Endicott would be there. He must not intrude, not even to see Starr +once more. Besides, she had made it a point of honor for him to keep away from +her daughter. He had no choice but to obey. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Endicott, “but see you don’t lose +yourself again. I want to see you about something. I’ll not be long. It +must be nearly time for starting.” He hurried away and Michael stood on +the edge of the throng looking up at the great floating village. +</p> + +<p> +It was his first view of an ocean-going steamer at close range and everything +about it interested him. He wished he might have gone aboard and looked the +vessel over. He would like to know about the engines and see the cabins, and +especially the steerage about which he had read so much. But perhaps there +would be an opportunity again. Surely there would be. He would go to Ellis +Island, too, and see the emigrants as they came into the country, seeking a new +home where they had been led to expect to find comfort and plenty of work, and +finding none; landing most of them, inevitably, in the slums of the cities +where the population was already congested and where vice and disease stood +ready to prey upon them. Michael had been spending enough time in the alleys of +the metropolis to be already deeply interested in the problem of the city, and +deeply pained by its sorrows. +</p> + +<p> +But his thoughts were not altogether of the masses and the classes as he stood +in the bright sunlight and gazed at the great vessel about to plow its way over +the bright waters. He was realizing that somewhere within those many little +windowed cabins was a bright faced girl, the only one of womankind in all the +earth about whom his tender thoughts had ever hovered. Would he catch a glimpse +of her face once more before she went away for the winter? She was going to +school, her father had said. How could they bear to send her across the water +from them? A whole winter was a long time; and yet, it would pass. Thirteen +years had passed since he went away from New York, and he was back. It would +not be so long as that. She would return, and need him perhaps. He would be +there and be ready when he was needed. +</p> + +<p> +The fine lips set in a strong line that was good to see. There were the +patient, fearless lines of a soldier in the boy’s face, and rugged +strength in spite of his unusual beauty of countenance. It is not often one +sees a face like Michael’s. There was nothing womanish in his looks. It +was rather the completeness of strength and courage combined with mighty +modelling and perfection of coloring, that made men turn and look after him and +look again, as though they had seen a god; and made women exclaim over him. If +he had been born in the circles of aristocracy he would have been the idol of +society, the spoiled of all who knew him. He was even now being stared at by +every one in sight, and more than one pair of marine glasses from the first +cabin deck were pointed at him; but he stood deep in his thoughts and utterly +unconscious of his own attraction. +</p> + +<p> +It was only a moment before the first warning came, and people crowded on the +wharf side of the decks, while others hurried down the gang plank. Michael +watched the confusion with eagerness, his eyes searching the decks for all +possible chance of seeing Starr. +</p> + +<p> +When the last warning was given, and just as the gang plank was about to be +hauled up, Mr. Endicott came hurrying down, and Michael suddenly saw her face +in the crowd on the deck above, her mother’s haughtily pretty face just +behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Without in the least realizing what he was doing Michael moved through the +crowd until he stood close behind Starr’s father, and then all at once he +became aware that her starry eyes were upon him, and she recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +He lifted his hat and stood in reverent attitude as though in the presence of a +queen, his eyes glowing eloquently, his speaking face paying her tribute as +plainly as words could have done. The noonday sun burnished his hair with its +aureole flame, and more than one of the passengers called attention to the +sight. +</p> + +<p> +“See that man down there!” exclaimed a woman of the world close +behind Mrs. Endicott. “Isn’t he magnificent! He has a head and +shoulders like a young god!” She spoke as if her acquaintance with gods +was wide, and her neighbors turned to look. +</p> + +<p> +“See, mamma,” whispered Starr glowing rosily with pleasure, +“they are speaking of Michael!” +</p> + +<p> +Then the haughty eyes turned sharply and recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean to tell me that upstart has dared to come down and +see us off. The impudence of him! I am glad your father had enough sense not to +bring him on board. He would probably have come if he had let him. Come away, +Starr. He simply shall not look at you in that way!” +</p> + +<p> +“What! Come away while papa is standing there watching us out of sight. I +simply couldn’t. What would papa think? And besides, I don’t see +why Michael shouldn’t come if he likes. I think it was nice of him. I +wonder why he hasn’t been to the house to explain why he never came for +that horseback ride.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a very silly ignorant little girl, or you would understand +that he has no business presuming to come to our house; and he knows it +perfectly well. I want you to stop looking in that direction at once. I simply +will not have him devouring you with his eyes in that way. I declare I would +like to go back and tell him what I think of him. Starr, stop I tell you, +Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +But the noise of the starting drowned her words, and Starr, her cheeks like +roses and her eyes like two stars, was waving a bit of a handkerchief and +smiling and throwing kisses. The kisses were for her father, but the smiles and +the starry glances, and the waving bit of cambric were for Michael, and they +all travelled through the air quite promiscuously, drenching the bright +uncovered head of the boy with sweetness. His eyes gave her greeting and thanks +and parting all in one in that brief moment of her passing: and her graceful +form and dainty vivid face were graven on his memory in quick sweet blows of +pain, as he realized that she was going from him. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the great vessel glided out upon the bright waters and grew smaller and +smaller. The crowd on the wharf were beginning to break away and hurry back to +business or home or society. Still Michael stood with bared head gazing, and +that illumined expression upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott, a mist upon his own glasses at parting from his beloved baby, saw the +boy’s face as it were the face of an angel; and was half startled, +turning away embarrassedly as though he had intruded upon a soul at prayer; +then looked again. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, son!” he said almost huskily. “It’s over! We +better be getting back. Step in.” +</p> + +<p> +The ride back to the office was a silent one. Somehow Endicott did not feel +like talking. There had been some differences between himself and his wife that +were annoying, and a strange belated regret that he had let Starr go away for a +foreign education was eating into his heart. Michael, on his part, was living +over again the passing of the vessel and the blessing of the parting. +</p> + +<p> +Back in the office, however, all was different. Among the familiar walls and +gloomy desks and chairs Endicott was himself, and talked business. He put +questions, short, sharp and in quick succession. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing with yourself? Working? What at? H’m! +How’d you get there? Like it? Satisfied to do that all your life? +You’re not? Well, what’s your line? Any ambitions? You ought to +have got some notion in college of what you’re fit for. Have you thought +what you’d like to do in the world?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael hesitated, then looked up with his clear, direct, challenging gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“There are two things,” he said, “I want to earn money and +buy some land in the country, and I want to know about laws.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean you want to be a lawyer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“What makes you think you’d be a success as a lawyer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I might not be a success, but I need to know law, I want to try to +stop some things that ought not to be.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” grunted Endicott disapprovingly. “Don’t +try the reform game, it doesn’t pay. However, if you feel that way +you’ll probably be all right to start. That’ll work itself off and +be a good foundation. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be a +lawyer if you choose, but you can’t study law selling calico. You might +get there some day, if you stick to your ambition, but you’d be pretty +old before you were ready to practice if you started at the calico counter and +worked your way up through everything you came to. Well, I can get you into a +law office right away. How soon can you honorably get away from where you are? +Two weeks? Well, just wait a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott called up a number on the telephone by his side, and there followed a +conversation, brief, pointed, but in terms that Michael could barely follow. He +gathered that a lawyer named Holt, a friend of Mr. Endicott’s, was being +asked to take him into his office to read law. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right, son,” said Endicott as he hung up the +receiver and whirled around from the ’phone. “You’re to +present yourself at the office as soon as you are free. This is the +address”—hurriedly scribbling something on a card and handing it to +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, thank you!” said Michael, “but I didn’t mean to +have you take any more trouble for me. I can’t be dependent on you any +longer. You have done so much for me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Bosh!” said Endicott, “I’m not taking any trouble. And +you’re not dependent on me. Be as independent as you like. You’re +not quite twenty-one yet, are you? Well, I told you you were my boy until you +were of age, and I suppose there’s nothing to hinder me doing as I will +with my own. It’s paid well all I’ve done for you so far, and I +feel the investment was a good one. You’ll get a small salary for some +office work while you’re studying, so after you are twenty-one you can +set up for yourself if you like. Till then I claim the privilege of giving you +a few orders. Now that’s settled. Where are you stopping? I don’t +intend to lose sight of you again.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael gave him the street and number. Endicott frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s not a good place. I don’t like the neighborhood. If +you’re going to be a lawyer, you must start in right. Here, try this +place. Tell the woman I sent you. One of my clerks used to board there.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed Michael another address. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t that cost a lot?” asked Michael studying the card. +“Not any more than you can afford,” said Endicott, “and +remember, I’m giving orders until your majority.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael beamed his brilliant smile at his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +“It is like a real father!” said the boy deeply moved. “I can +never repay you. I can never forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, don’t!” said Endicott. “Let’s turn to the +other thing. What do you want land for?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face sobered instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“For an experiment I want to try,” he said without hesitation, and +then, his eyes lighting up, “I’ll be able to do it now, soon, +perhaps, if I work hard. You see I studied agriculture in college—” +</p> + +<p> +“The dickens you did!” exclaimed Endicott. “What did you do +that for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was there and I could, and I wanted to know about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” said Endicott. “I wonder what some of my +pedigreed million-dollar friend’s sons would think of that? Well, go +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, that’s all,” laughed Michael happily. “I studied +it and I want to try it and see what I can do with it. I want to buy a +farm.” +</p> + +<p> +“How would you manage to be a farmer and a lawyer both?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I thought there might he a little time after hours to work, and I +could tell others how—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I see you want to be a gentleman farmer,” laughed Endicott. +“I understand that’s expensive business.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I could make it pay, sir.” said Michael shutting his lips +with that firm challenge of his. “I’d like to try.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott looked at him quizzically for a minute and then whirling around in his +office chair he reached out his hand to a pigeon hole and took out a deed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve a mind to let you have your try,” said Endicott, +chuckling as if it were a good joke. “Here’s a little farm down in +Jersey. It’s swampy and thick with mosquitoes. I understand it +won’t grow a beanstalk. There are twelve acres and a tumble-down house on +it. I’ve had to take it in settlement of a mortgage. The man’s dead +and there’s nothing but the farm to lay hands on. He hasn’t even +left a chick or child to leave his debt to. I don’t want the farm and I +can’t sell it without a lot of trouble. I’ll give it to you. You +may consider it a birthday present. If you’ll pay the taxes I’ll be +glad to get it off my hands. That’ll be something for you to be +independent about.” +</p> + +<p> +He touched a bell and a boy appeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Take this to Jowett and tell him to have a deed made out to Michael +Endicott, and to attend to the transfer of the property, nominal sum. +Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy said, “Yes, sir,” and disappeared with the paper. +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t take a present like that from you after all you have +done for me,” gasped Michael, a granite determination showing in his blue +eyes. “Nonsense,” said Endicott. “Other men give their sons +automobiles when they come of age. Mayn’t I give you a farm if I like? +Besides, I tell you it’s of no account. I want to get rid of it, and I +want to see what you’ll make of it. I’d like to amuse myself seeing +you try your experiment.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ll let me pay you for it little by little—” +</p> + +<p> +“Suit yourself after you have become a great lawyer,” laughed +Endicott, “but not till then, remember. There, cut it out, son! I +don’t want to be thanked. Here’s the description of the place and +directions how to get there. It isn’t many miles away. If you’ve +got a half holiday run down and look it over. It’ll keep you out of +mischief. There’s nothing like an ambition to keep people out of +mischief. Run along now, I haven’t another minute to spare, but mind you +turn up at Holt’s office this day two weeks, and report to me afterwards +how you like it. I don’t want to lose sight of you again.” +</p> + +<p> +The entrance of another man on business cut short the interview, and Michael, +bestowing an agonizingly happy grip on Endicott’s hand and a brilliant +smile like a benediction, took his directions and hurried out into the street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap12"></a>Chapter XII</h3> + +<p> +With the precious paper in his hand Michael took himself with all swiftness to +the DesBrosses Ferry. Would there be a train? It was almost two o’clock. +He had had no lunch, but what of that? He had that in his heart which made mere +eating seem unnecessary. The experiences of the past two hours had lifted him +above, earth and its necessities for the time. And a farm, a real farm! Could +it be true? Had his wish come true so soon? He could scarcely wait for the car +to carry him or the boat to puff its way across the water. He felt as if he +must fly to see his new possession. And Mr. Endicott had said he might pay for +it sometime when he got to be a great lawyer. He had no doubt but that he would +get there if such a thing were possible, and anyhow he meant to pay for that +ground. Meantime it was his. He was not a poor nobody after all. He owned land, +and a house. +</p> + +<p> +His face was a mingling of delightful emotions as he stood by the rail of the +ferry-boat and let his imagination leap on ahead of him. The day was perfect. +It had rained the night before and everything, even the air seemed newly washed +for a fresh trial at living. Every little wavelet sparkled like a jewel, and +the sunlight shimmered on the water in a most alluring way. Michael forgot for +the moment the sorrow and misery of the crowded city he was leaving behind him. +For this afternoon at least he was a boy again wandering off into the open. +</p> + +<p> +His train was being called as he stepped from the ferry-boat. The next boat +would have missed it. He hurried aboard and was soon speeding through the open +country, with now and again a glimpse of the sea, as the train came closer to +the beach. They passed almost continuously beautiful resorts, private villas, +great hotels, miles of cottages set in green terrace with glowing autumn +flowers in boxes or bordering the paths. +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched everything with deep interest. This was the land of his new +possession. Whatever was growing here would be likely to grow on his place if +it were properly planted and cared for. Ere this flowers had had little part in +his farming scheme, but so soon as he saw the brilliant display he resolved +that he must have some of those also. And flowers would sell as well if not +better than vegetables if properly marketed. +</p> + +<p> +That vivid hedge of scarlet and gold, great heavy-headed dahlias they were. He +did not know the name, but he would find it out somehow. They would take up +little room and would make his new place a thing of beauty. Farther on, one +great white cottage spread its veranda wings on either side to a tall fringe of +pink and white and crimson cosmos; and again a rambling gray stone piece of +quaint architecture with low sloping roofs of mossy green, and velvet lawn +creeping down even to the white beach sands, was set about with flaming scarlet +sage. It was a revelation to the boy whose eyes had never looked upon the like +before. Nature in its wildness and original beauty had been in Florida; New +York was all pavements and buildings with a window box here and there. He as +yet knew nothing of country homes in their luxury and perfection, save from +magazine pictures. All the way along he was picking out features that he meant +some day to transfer to his own little farm. +</p> + +<p> +It was after three when he reached the station, and a good fifteen minutes walk +to the farm, but every step of it was a delight. +</p> + +<p> +Pearl Beach, they called the station. The beach was half a mile from the +railroad, and a queer little straggling town mostly cottages and a few stores +hovered between railroad and beach. A river, broad, and shallow, wound its +silver way about the village and lost itself in the wideness of the ocean. Here +and there a white sail flew across its gleaming centre, and fishermen in little +boats sat at their idle task. What if his land should touch somewhere this +bonny stream! +</p> + +<p> +Too eager to wait for investigation he stopped a passing stranger and +questioned him. Yes, the river was salt. It had tides with the sea, too. There +was great fishing and sailing, and some preferred bathing there to the ocean. +Yes, Old Orchard farm was on its bank. It had a river frontage of several +hundred feet but it was over a mile back from the beach. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger was disposed to delay and gossip about the death of the former +owner of Old Orchard and its probable fate now that the mortgage had been +foreclosed; but Michael with a happy light in his eyes thanked him courteously +and hurried on. Wings were upon his feet, and his heart was light and happy. He +felt like a bird set free. He breathed in the strong salt air with delight. +</p> + +<p> +And then the burden of the city came to him again, the city with all its noise +and folly and sin; with its smells and heat, and lack of air; with its crowded, +suffering, awful humanity, herded together like cattle, and living in +conditions worse than the beasts of the fields. If he could but bring them out +here, bring some of them at least; and show them what God’s earth was +like! Ah! +</p> + +<p> +His heart beat wildly at the thought! It was not new. He had harbored it ever +since his first visit to the alley. It was his great secret, his much hoped for +experiment. If he might be able to do it sometime. This bit of a farm would +open the way. There would be money needed of course, and where was it to come +from? But he could work. He was strong. He would give his young life for his +people—save them from their ignorance and despair. At least he could save +some; even one would be worth while. +</p> + +<p> +So he mused as he hurried on, eyes and mind open to all he saw. +</p> + +<p> +There was no fence in front of Old Orchard farm. A white road bordered with +golden rod and wild asters met the scraggly grass that matted and tangled +itself beneath the gnarled apple trees. A grassy rutted wagon track curved +itself in vistas between the trees up to the house which was set far back from +the road. A man passing identified the place for Michael, and looked him over +apprizingly, wondering as did all who saw him, at the power and strength of his +beauty. +</p> + +<p> +The house was weather-beaten unpainted clapboards, its roof of curled and mossy +shingles possessing undoubted leakable qualities, patched here and there. A +crazy veranda ambled across the front. It contained a long low room with a +queer old-fashioned chimney place wide enough to sit in, a square south room +that must have been a dining-room because of the painted cupboard whose empty +shelves gazed ghastly between half-open doors, and a small kitchen, not much +more than a shed. In the long low room a staircase twisted itself up oddly to +the four rooms under the leaky roof. It was all empty and desolate, save for an +old cot bed and a broken chair. The floors had a sagged, shaky appearance. The +doors quaked when they were opened. The windows were cobwebby and dreary, yet +it looked to the eyes of the new householder like a palace. He saw it in the +light of future possibilities and gloried in it. That chimney place now. How +would it look with a great log burning in it, and a rug and rocking chair +before it. What would—Aunt Sally—perhaps—say to it when he +got it fixed up? Could he ever coax her to leave her dirty doorstep and her +drink and come out here to live? And how would he manage it all if he could? +There would have to be something to feed her with, and to buy the rug and the +rocking chair. And first of all there would have to be a bath-tub. Aunt Sally +would need to be purified before she could enter the portals of this ideal +cottage, when he had made it as he wanted it to be. Paint and paper would make +wonderful transformations he knew, for he had often helped at remodelling the +rooms at college during summer vacations. He had watched and been with the +workmen and finally taken a hand. This habit of watching and helping had taught +him many things. But where were paper and paint and time to use it coming from? +Ah, well, leave that to the future. He would find a way. Yesterday he did not +have the house nor the land for it to stand upon. It had come and the rest +would follow in their time. +</p> + +<p> +He went happily about planning for a bath-room. There would have to be water +power. He had seen windmills on other places as he passed. That was perhaps the +solution of this problem, but windmills cost money of course. Still,—all +in good time. +</p> + +<p> +There was a tumbled-down barn and chicken house, and a frowzy attempt at a +garden. A strawberry bed overgrown with weeds, a sickly cabbage lifting its +head bravely; a gaunt row of currant bushes; another wandering, out-reaching +row of raspberries; a broken fence; a stretch of soppy bog land to the right, +and the farm trailed off into desolate neglect ending in a charming grove of +thick trees that stood close down to the river’s bank. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went over it all carefully, noted the exposure of the land, kicked the +sandy soil to examine its unpromising state, walked all around the bog and +tried to remember what he had read about cranberry bogs; wondered if the salt +water came up here, and if it were good or bad for cranberries; wondered if cow +peas grew in Jersey and if they would do for a fertilizing crop as they did in +Florida. Then he walked through the lovely woods, scenting the breath of pines +and drawing in long whiffs of life as he looked up to the green roof over his +head. They were not like the giant pines of the South land, but they were +sweeter and more beautiful in their form. +</p> + +<p> +He went down to the brink of the river and stood looking across. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul was in sight and nothing moved save a distant sail fleeing across +the silver sheen to the sea. He remembered what the man had said about bathing +and yielding to an irresistible impulse was soon swimming out across the water. +It was like a new lease of life to feel the water brimming to his neck again, +and to propel himself with strong, graceful strokes through the element where +he would. A bird shot up into the air with a wild sweet note, and he felt like +answering to its melody. He whistled softly in imitation of its voice, and the +bird answered, and again and again they called across the water. +</p> + +<p> +But a look toward the west where the water was crimsoning already with the +setting sun warned him that his time was short, so he swam back to the +sheltered nook where he had left his clothes, and improvising a towel from his +handkerchief he dressed rapidly. The last train back left at seven. If he did +not wish to spend the night in his new and uninhabitable abode he must make +good time. It was later than he supposed, and he wished to go back to the +station by way of the beach if possible, though it was out of his way. As he +drew on his coat and ran his fingers through his hair in lieu of a brush, he +looked wistfully at the bright water, dimpling now with hues of violet, pink, +and gold and promising a rare treat in the way of a sunset. He would like to +stay and watch it. But there was the ocean waiting for him. He must stand on +the shore once and look out across it, and know just how it looked near his own +house. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried through the grove and across the farm to the eastern edge, and +looking beyond the broken fence that marked the bounds of the bog land over the +waste of salt grass he could see the white waves dimly tumbling, hurrying ever, +to get past one another. He took the fence at a bound, made good time over the +uncertain footing of the marsh grass and was soon standing on the broad smooth +beach with the open stretch of ocean before him. +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time he had ever stood on the seashore and the feeling of awe +that filled him was very great. But beyond any other sensation, came the +thought that Starr, his beautiful Starr, was out there on that wide vast ocean, +tossing in a tiny boat. For now the great steamer that had seemed so large and +palatial, had dwindled in his mind to a frail toy, and he was filled with a +nameless fear for her. His little Starr out there on that fearful deep, with +only that cold-eyed mother to take care of her. A wild desire to fly to her and +bring her back possessed him; a thrilling, awesome something, he had never +known before. He stood speechless before it; then raised his eyes to the +roseate already purpling in streaks for the sunset and looking solemnly up he +said, aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, God, I love her!” +</p> + +<p> +He stood facing the thought with solemn joy and pain for an instant, then +turned and fled from it down the purpling sands; fleeing, yet carrying his +secret with him. +</p> + +<p> +And when he came opposite the little village he trod its shabby, straggling, +ill-paved streets with glory in his face; and walking thus with hat in hand, +and face illumined toward the setting sun, folks looked at him strangely and +wondered who and what he was, and turned to look again. In that half-light of +sunset, he seemed a being from another world. +</p> + +<p> +A native watching, dropped his whip, and climbing down from his rough wagon +spoke the thought that all the bystanders felt in common: +</p> + +<p> +“Gosh hang it! I thought he was one o’ them glass angels stepped +out of a church winder over to ’Lizabeth-town. We don’t see them +kind much. I wonder now how he’d be to live with. Think I’d feel +kinder creepy hevin’ him ’round all time, wouldn’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +All the way home the new thought came surging over him, he loved her and she +could never be his. It was deluging; it was beautiful; but it was agonizing. He +recalled how beautiful she had been as she waved farewell. And some of her +smiles had been for him, he was sure. He had known of course that the kisses +were for her father, and yet, they had been blown freely his way, and she had +looked her pleasure at his presence. There had been a look in her eyes such as +she had worn that day in the college chapel when she had thrown precautions to +the winds and put her arms about his neck and kissed him. His young heart +thrilled with a deep joy over the memory of it. It had been wonderful that she +had done it; wonderful! when he was what he was, a <i>child of the slums</i>! +The words seemed burned upon his soul now, a part of his very life. He was not +worthy of her, not worthy to receive her favor. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window frame as the train +hurried along through the gathering darkness, and saw again the bright lovely +face, the dainty fingers blowing kisses, the lips wreathed in smiles, and knew +some of the farewell had been surely meant for him. He forgot the beautiful +villas along the way, forgot to watch for the twinkling lights, or to care how +the cottages looked at evening. Whenever the track veered toward the sea and +gave a glimpse of gray sky and yawning ocean with here and there a point of +light to make the darkness blacker, he seemed to know instinctively, and +opening his eyes strained them to look across it. Out there in the blackness +somewhere was his Starr and he might not go to her, nor she come to him. There +was a wide stretch of unfathomable sea between them. There would always be that +gray, impassable sky and sea of impossibility between them. +</p> + +<p> +As he neared New York, however, these thoughts dropped from him; and standing +on the ferry-boat with the million twinkling lights of the city, and the +looming blackness of the huddled mass of towering buildings against the +illuminated sky, the call of the people came to him. Over there in the +darkness, swarming in the fetid atmosphere of a crowded court were thousands +like himself, yes, <i>like himself</i>, for he was one of them. He belonged +there. They were his kind and he must help them! +</p> + +<p> +Then his mind went to the farm and his plans, and he entered back into the +grind of life and assumed its burdens with the sweet pain of his secret locked +in his inmost heart. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap13"></a>Chapter XIII</h3> + +<p> +“Sam, have you ever been in the country?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Michael who asked the question. They were sitting in a small dismal room +that Michael had found he could afford to rent in a house on the edge of the +alley. Not that he had moved there, oh, no! He could not have endured life if +all of it that he could call his own had to be spent in that atmosphere. He +still kept his little fourth floor back in the dismally respectable street. He +had not gone to the place recommended by Endicott, because he found that the +difference he would have to pay would make it possible for him to rent this sad +little room near the alley; and for his purposes this seemed to him an absolute +necessity at present. +</p> + +<p> +The weather was growing too cold for him to meet with his new-old acquaintances +of the alley out of doors, and it was little better indoors even if he could +have endured the dirt and squalor of those apartments that would have been open +to him. Besides, he had a great longing to show them something brighter than +their own forlorn homes. +</p> + +<p> +There was a settlement house three or four blocks away, but it had not drawn +the dwellers in this particular alley. They were sunken too low, perhaps, or +there were so many more hopeful quarters in which to work; and the city was so +wide and deep and dark. Michael knew little about the settlement house. He had +read of such things. He had looked shyly toward its workers now and then, but +as yet knew none of them, though they had heard now and again of the +“Angel-man of the alley,” and were curious to find him out. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael’s enterprise was all his own, and his ways of working were +his own. He had gone back into the years of his childhood and found out from +his inner consciousness what it was he had needed, and now he was going to try +to give it to some other little “kids” who were as forlorn and +friendless as he had been. It wasn’t much that he could do, but what he +could he would do, and more as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +And so he had rented this speck of a room, and purified it. He had literally +compelled Sam to help him. That compelling was almost a modern miracle, and +wrought by radiant smiles, and a firm grip on Sam’s shoulder when he told +him what he wanted done. +</p> + +<p> +Together they had swept and scrubbed and literally scraped, the dirt from that +room. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see what you’re making sech a darned fuss about dirt +fer!” grumbled Sam as he arose from his knees after scrubbing the floor +for the fourth time. “It’s what we’re all made of, dey say, +an’ nobuddy’ll know de diffrunce.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just see if they won’t, Sam,” encouraged Michael as he +polished off the door he had been cleaning. “See there, how nice that +looks! You didn’t know that paint was gray, did you? It looked brown +before, it was so thick with dirt. Now we’re ready for paint and +paper!” +</p> + +<p> +And so, in an atmosphere of soap and water they had worked night after night +till very late; and Sam had actually let a well-planned and promising raid go +by because he was so interested in what he was doing and he was ashamed to tell +Michael of his engagement. +</p> + +<p> +Sam had never assisted at the papering of a room before; in fact, it is +doubtful if he ever saw a room with clean fresh paper on its walls in all his +life, unless in some house he had entered unlawfully. When this one stood +arrayed at last in its delicate newness, he stood back and surveyed it in awed +silence. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had chosen paper of the color of the sunshine, for the court was dark +and the alley was dark and the room was dark. The souls of the people too were +dark. They must have light and brightness if he would win them to better +things. Besides, the paper was only five cents a roll, the cheapest he could +find in the city. Michael had learned at college during vacations how to put it +on. He made Sam wash and wash and wash his hands before he was allowed to +handle any of the delicate paper. +</p> + +<p> +“De paper’ll jest git dirty right away,” grumbled Sam +sullenly, albeit he washed his hands, and his eyes glowed as they used to when +a child at a rare “find” in the gutter. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’ll you do when it gits dirty?” demanded Sam +belligerently. +</p> + +<p> +“Put on some clean,” said Michael sunnily. “Besides, we must +learn to have clean hands and keep it clean.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish we had some curtains,” said Michael wistfully. “They +had thin white curtains at college.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you makin’ a college fer we?” asked Sam looking at him +sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, in a way, perhaps,” said Michael smiling. “You know I +want you to have all the advantages I had as far as I can get them.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam only whistled and looked perplexed but he was doing more serious thinking +than he had ever done in his life before. +</p> + +<p> +And so the two had worked, and planned, and now tonight, the work was about +finished. +</p> + +<p> +The walls reflected the yellow of the sunshine, the woodwork was painted white +enamel. Michael had, just put on the last gleaming coat. +</p> + +<p> +“We can give it another coat when it looks a little soiled,” he had +remarked to Sam, and Sam, frowning, had replied: “Dey better hev dere +han’s clean.” +</p> + +<p> +The floor was painted gray. There was no rug. Michael felt its lack and meant +to remedy it as soon as possible, but rugs cost money. There was a small coal +stove set up and polished till it shone, and a fire was laid ready to start. +They had not needed it while they were working hard. The furniture was a +wooden table painted gray with a cover of bright cretonne, two wooden chairs, +and three boxes. Michael had collected these furnishings carefully and +economically, for he had to sacrifice many little comforts that he might get +them. +</p> + +<p> +On the walls were two or three good pictures fastened by brass tacks; and some +of the gray moss and pine branches from Michael’s own room. In the +central wall appeared one of Michael’s beloved college pennants. It was +understood by all who had yet entered the sacred precincts of the room to be +the symbol of what made the difference between them and “the +angel,” and they looked at it with awe, and mentally crossed themselves +in its presence. +</p> + +<p> +At the windows were two lengths of snowy cheese-cloth crudely hemmed by +Michael, and tacked up in pleats with brass-headed tacks. They were tied back +with narrow yellow ribbons. This had been the last touch and Sam sat looking +thoughtfully at the stiff angular bows when Michael asked the question: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been in the country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam scornfully. “Went wid de Fresh Air folks wen +I were a kid.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you think of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t tink much!” shrugged Sam. “Too empty. +Nothin’ doin’! Good ’nough fer kids. Never again fer +<i>me</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +It was three months since Michael had made his memorable first visit down to +Old Orchard Farm. For weeks he had worked shoulder to shoulder every evening +with Sam and as yet no word of that plan which was nearest his heart had been +spoken. This was his first attempt to open the subject. +</p> + +<p> +That Sam had come to have a certain kind of respect and fondness for him he was +sure, though it was never expressed in words. Always he either objected to any +plan Michael suggested, or else he was extremely indifferent and would not +promise to be on hand. He was almost always there, however, and Michael had +come to know that Sam was proud of his friendship, and at least to a degree +interested in his plans for the betterment of the court. +</p> + +<p> +“There are things in the country; other things, that make up for the stir +of the city,” said Michael thoughtfully. This was the first unpractical +conversation he had tried to hold with Sam. He had been leading him up, through +the various stages from dirt and degradation, by means of soap and water, then +paper and paint, and now they had reached the doorway of Nature’s school. +Michael wanted to introduce Sam to the great world of out-of-doors. For, though +Sam had lived all his life out-of-doors, it had been a world of brick walls and +stone pavements, with little sky and almost no water. Not a green thing in +sight, not a bird, nor a beast except of burden. The first lesson was waiting +in a paper bundle that stood under the table. Would Sam take it, Michael +wondered, as he rose and brought it out unwrapping the papers carefully, while +Sam silently watched and pretended to whistle, not to show too much curiosity. +“What tings?” at last asked Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Things like this,” answered Michael eagerly setting out on the +table an earthen pot containing a scarlet geranium in bloom. It glowed forth +its brilliant torch at once and gave just the touch to the little empty clean +room that Michael had hoped it would do. He stood back and looked at it +proudly, and then looked at Sam to see if the lesson had been understood. He +half expected to see an expression of scorn on the hardened sallow face of the +slum boy, but instead Sam was gazing open-mouthed, with unmitigated admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! Dat’s all right!” he ejaculated. “Where’d +you make de raise? Say! Dat makes de paper an’ de paint show up +fine!” taking in the general effect of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Then he arose from the box on which he had been sitting and went and stood +before the blossom. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! I wisht Jim eud see dat dere!” he ejaculated after a long +silence, and there was that in the expression of his face that brought the +quick moisture to Michael’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +It was only a common red geranium bought for fifteen cents, but it had touched +with its miracle of bright life the hardened soul of the young burglar, and +opened his vision to higher things than he had known. It was in this moment of +open vision that his heart turned to his old companion who was uncomplainingly +taking the punishment which rightfully belonged to the whole gang. +</p> + +<p> +“We will take him one tomorrow,” said Michael in a low voice husky +with feeling. It was the first time Sam had voluntarily mentioned Jim and he +had seemed so loth to take Michael to see him in jail that Michael had ceased +to speak of the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s another one just like this where I bought this one. I +couldn’t tell which to take, they were both so pretty. We’ll get it +the first thing in the morning before anybody else snaps it up, and then, when +could we get in to see Jim? Would they let us in after my office hours or would +we have to wait till Sunday? You look after that will you? I might get off at +four o’clock if that’s not too late.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dey’ll let us in on Sunday ef <i>you</i> ask, I reckon,” +said Sam much moved. “But it’s awful dark in prison. It won’t +live, will it? Dere’s only one streak o’ sun shines in Jim’s +cell a few minutes every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think it’ll live,” said Michael hastily, a strange +choking sensation in his throat at thought of his one-time companion shut into +a dark prison. Of course, he deserved to be there. He had broken the laws, but +then no one had ever made him understand how wrong it was. If some one had only +tried perhaps Jim would never have done the thing that put him in prison. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure it will live,” he said again cheerfully. +“I’ve heard that geraniums are very hardy. The man told me they +would live all winter in the cellar if you brought them up again in the +spring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jim will be out again in de spring,” said Sam softly. It was the +first sign of anything like emotion in Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that good!” said Michael heartily. “I wonder +what we can do to make it pleasant for him when he comes back to the world. +We’ll bring him to this room, of course, but in the spring this will be +getting warm. And that makes me think of what I was talking about a minute ago. +There’s so much more in the country than in the city!” +</p> + +<p> +“More?” questioned Sam uncomprehendingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, things like this to look at. Growing things that you get to love +and understand. Wonderful things. There’s a river that sparkles and talks +as it runs. There are trees that laugh and whisper when the wind plays in their +branches. And there are wonderful birds, little live breaths of air with music +inside that make splendid friends when you’re lonely. I know, for I made +lots of bird-friends when I went away from you all to college. You know I was +pretty lonely at first.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked at him with quick, keen wonder, and a lighting of his face that made +him almost attractive and sent the cunning in his eyes slinking out of sight. +Had this fine great-hearted creature really missed his old friends when he went +away? Had he really need of them yet, with all his +education—and—difference? It was food for thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there’s the sky, so much of it,” went on Michael, +“and so wide and blue, and sometimes soft white clouds. They make you +feel rested when you look at them floating lazily through the blue, and never +seeming to be tired; not even when there’s a storm and they have to +hurry. And there’s the sunset. Sam, I don’t believe you ever saw +the sunset, not right anyway. You don’t have sunsets here in the city, it +just gets dark. You ought to see one I saw not long ago. I mean to take you +there some day and we’ll watch it together. I want to see if it will do +the same thing to you that it did to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked at him in awe, for he wore his exalted look, and when he spoke like +that Sam had a superstitious fear that perhaps after all he was as old Sal +said, more of angel than of man. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, there’s the earth, all covered with green, plenty of it +to lie in if you want to, and it smells so good; and there’s so much +air,—enough to breathe your lungs full, and with nothing disagreeable in +it, no ugly smells nor sounds. And there are growing things everywhere. Oh, +Sam! Wouldn’t you like to make things like this grow?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded and put forth his rough forefinger shamedly to touch the velvet of a +green leaf, as one unaccustomed might touch a baby’s cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll go with me, Sam, to the country sometime, won’t you? +I’ve got a plan and I’ll need you to help me carry it out. Will you +go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam in quite a different voice from any reluctant +assent he had ever given before. “Sure, I’ll go!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Sam,” said Michael more moved than he dared show, +“And now that’s settled I want to talk about this room. I’m +going to have five little kids here tomorrow early in the evening. I told them +I’d show them how to whittle boats and we’re going to sail them in +the scrub bucket. They’re about the age you and I were when I went away +to college. Perhaps I’ll teach them a letter or two of the alphabet if +they seem interested. They ought to know how to read, Sam.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never learned to read—” muttered Sam half belligerently. +“That so?” said Michael as if it were a matter of small moment. +“Well, what if you were to come in and help me with the boats. Then you +could pick it up when I teach them. You might want to use it some day. +It’s well to know how, and a man learns things quickly you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know’s I care ’bout it,” he said +indifferently, but Michael saw that he intended to come. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, after the kids have gone, I won’t keep them late you know, I +wonder if you’d like to bring some of the fellows in to see this?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael glanced around the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve some pictures of alligators I have a fancy they might like to +see. I’ll bring them down if you say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam trying to hide his pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“Then tomorrow morning I’m going to let that little woman that +lives in the cellar under Aunt Sally’s room, bring her sewing here and +work all day. She makes buttonholes in vests. It’s so dark in her room +she can’t see and she’s almost ruined her eyes working by candle +light.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’ll mess it all up!” grumbled Sam; “an’ she +might let other folks in an’ they’d pinch the picters an’ the +posy.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she won’t do that. I’ve talked to her about it. The room +is to be hers for the day, and she’s to keep it looking just as nice as +it did when she found it. She’ll only bring her work over, and go home +for her dinner. She’s to keep the fire going so it will be warm at night, +and she’s to try it for a day and see how it goes. I think she’ll +keep her promise. We’ll try her anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded as to a superior officer who nevertheless was awfully foolish. +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, do you think it would be nice to bring Aunt Sally over now a few +minutes?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Sam shortly, “she’s too dirty. She’d +put her fingers on de wall first thing—” +</p> + +<p> +“But Sam, I think she ought to come. And she ought to come first. +She’s the one that helped me find you—” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked sharply at Michael and wondered if he suspected how long that same +Aunt Sally had frustrated his efforts to find his friends. +</p> + +<p> +“We could tell her not to touch things, perhaps—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you lemme tell her. Here! I’ll go fix her up an’ bring +her now.” And Sam hurried out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Michael waited, and in a few minutes Sam returned with Aunt Sally. But it was a +transformed Aunt Sally. Her face had been painfully scrubbed in a circle out as +far as her ears, and her scraggy gray hair was twisted in a tight knot at the +back of her neck. Her hands were several shades cleaner than Michael had ever +seen them before, and her shoes were tied. She wore a small three-cornered +plaid shawl over her shoulders and entered cautiously as if half afraid to +come. Her hands were clasped high across her breast. She had evidently been +severely threatened against touching anything. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints be praised!” she ejaculated warmly after she had looked +around in silence for a moment “To think I should ivver see the loikes uv +this in de alley. It lukes loike a palace. Mikky, ye’re a Nangel, me +b’y! An’ a rale kurtin, to be shure! I ain’t seen a kurtin in +the alley since I cummed. An’ will ye luke at the purty posy a +blowin’ as foine as ye plaze! Me mither had the loike in her cottage +window when I was a leetle gal! Aw, me pure auld mither!” +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly to Michael’s amazement, and the disgust of Sam, old Sal sat +down on the one chair and wept aloud, with the tears streaming down her seamed +and sin-scarred face. +</p> + +<p> +Sam was for putting her out at once, but Michael soothed her with his cheery +voice, making her tell of her old home in Ireland, and the kind mother whom she +had loved, though it was long years since she had thought of her now. +</p> + +<p> +With rare skill he drew from her the picture of the little Irish cottage with +its thatched roof, its peat fire, and well-swept hearth; the table with the +white cloth, the cat in the rocking chair, the curtain starched stiffly at the +window, the bright posy on the deep window ledge; and, lastly, the little girl +with clean pinafore and curly hair who kissed her mother every morning and +trotted off to school. But that was before the father died, and the potatoes +failed. The school days were soon over, and the little girl with her mother +came to America. The mother died on the way over, and the child fell into evil +hands. That was the story, and as it was told Michael’s face grew tender +and wistful. Would that he knew even so much of his own history as that! +</p> + +<p> +But Sam stood by struck dumb and trying to fancy that this old woman had ever +been the bright rosy child she told about. Sam was passing through a sort of +mental and moral earthquake. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps some day we’ll find another little house in the country +where you can go and live,” said Michael, “but meantime, suppose +you go and see if you can’t make your room look like this one. You scrub +it all up and perhaps Sam and I will come over and put some pretty paper on the +walls for you. Would you like that? How about it, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam rather grudgingly. He hadn’t much faith in +Aunt Sally and didn’t see what Michael wanted with her anyway, but he was +loyal to Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Irish blessings mingled with tears and garnished with curses in the most +extraordinary way were showered upon Michael and at last when he could stand no +more, Sam said: +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, cut it out, Sal. You go home an’ scrub. Come on, now!” +and he bundled her off in a hurry. +</p> + +<p> +Late as it was, old Sal lit a fire, and by the light of a tallow candle got +down on her stiff old knees and began to scrub. It seemed nothing short of a +miracle that her room could ever look like that one she had just seen, but if +scrubbing could do anything toward it, scrub she would. It was ten years since +she had thought of scrubbing her room. She hadn’t seemed to care; but +tonight as she worked with her trembling old drink-shaken hands the memory of +her childhood’s home was before her vision, and she worked with all her +might. +</p> + +<p> +So the leaven of the little white room in the dark alley began to work. +“The Angel’s quarters” it was named, and to be called to go +within its charmed walls was an honor that all coveted as time went on. And +that was how Michael began the salvation of his native alley. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap14"></a>Chapter XIV</h3> + +<p> +Michael had been three months with the new law firm and was beginning to get +accustomed to the violent contrast between the day spent in the atmosphere of +low-voiced, quiet-stepping, earnest men who moved about in their environment of +polished floors, oriental rugs, leather chairs and walls lined with +leather-covered law books; and the evening down in the alley where his bare, +little, white and gold room made the only tolerable spot in the neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +He was still occupying the fourth floor back at his original boarding house, +and had seen Mr. Endicott briefly three or four times, but nothing had been +said about his lodgings. +</p> + +<p> +One morning he came to the desk set apart for him in the law office, and found +a letter lying there for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Son:” it said, “your board is paid at the address given +below, up to the day you are twenty-one. If you don’t get the benefit it +will go to waste. Mrs. Semple will make you quite comfortable and I desire you +to move to her house at once. If you feel any obligation toward me this is the +way to discharge it. Hope you are well, Yours, Delevan Endicott.’” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s heart beat faster with varied emotions. It was pleasant to have +some one care, and of course if Mr. Endicott wished it so much he would manage +it somehow—perhaps he could get some night work or copying to +do—but he would never let him bear his expenses. That could not be. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried off at the noon hour to find his benefactor and make this plain with +due gratitude. He found, however, that it was not so easy to change this +man’s mind, once made up. Endicott would not hear to any change in +arrangements. He had paid the board for the remaining months of Michael’s +minority and maintained his right to do so if he chose. Neither would he let +Michael refund him any of the amount. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael moved, bag and baggage, and found the change good. The regular, +well-cooked meals gave zest to his appetite which had been going back on him +for sometime under his own economical regime, and the larger room with better +outlook and more air, to say nothing of a comfortable bed with adjoining +bath-room, and plenty of heat and light, made life seem more worth while. +Besides there were other boarders with whom he now came in pleasant contact, +and there was a large pleasant parlor with easy chairs and an old-fashioned +square piano which still retained much of its original sweetness of tone. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Semple had a daughter Hester, an earnest, gray-eyed girl with soft brown +hair and a firm little chin, who had taken an art course in Cooper Institute +and painted very good pictures which, however, did not sell. Hester played the +piano—not very well, it is true, but well enough to make it pleasant to a +lonely boy who had known no music in his life except the birds or his own +whistle. She played hymns on Sunday after church while they waited for the +dinner to be ready; and evenings after supper she played other things: old +ballads and tender, touching melodies from old masters simplified, for such as +she. Michael sometimes lingered a half hour before hurrying away to the alley, +and joined his rich natural tenor with her light pretty soprano. Sometimes Will +French, a young fellow who was in the same law office and also boarded at Mrs. +Semple’s, stayed awhile and sang bass. It was very pleasant and made it +seem more as if he were living in a home. +</p> + +<p> +All this time Michael was carrying on his quiet work in the alley, saying +nothing about it to anybody. In the first place he felt shy about it because of +his personal connection with the place. Not that he wished to hide his origin +from his employers, but he felt he owed it to Mr. Endicott who had recommended +him, to be as respectable in their sight as possible; and so long as they +neither knew nor cared it did not matter. Then, it never occurred to Michael +that he was doing anything remarkable with his little white room in the +blackness of the stronghold of sin. Night after night he gathered his newsboys +and taught them whittling, basketry, reading, arithmetic and geography, with a +little philosophy and botany thrown in unawares. Night after night the older +fellows dropped in, one or two at a time, and listened to the stories Michael +told; sometimes of college life and games in which they were of course +interested; sometimes of Nature and his experiences in finding an alligator, or +a serpent, or watching some bird. It was wonderful how interesting he managed +to make those talks. He never realized that he was preparing in the school of +experience to be a magnificent public speaker. With an audience as difficult as +any he could have found in the whole wide city, he managed to hold them every +time. +</p> + +<p> +And the favorite theme often was agriculture. He would begin by bringing a new +little plant to the room, setting it up and showing it to them; talking about +conditions of soil and how plants were being improved. It was usually the +<i>résumé</i> of some article on agriculture that he had taken time to read at +noon and was reviewing for their benefit. +</p> + +<p> +They heard all about Burbank and his wonderful experiments in making plants +grow and develop, and as they listened they went and stood around the blossom +that Michael had just brought to them and looked with new wonder at it. A +flower was a strange enough sight in that court, but when they heard these +stories it became filled with new interest. For a little while they forgot +their evil plotting and were lifted above themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Another night the talk would be on fertilizers, and how one crop would +sometimes give out something that another crop planted later, needed. Little by +little, because he talked about the things in which he himself was interested, +he was giving these sons of ignorance a dim knowledge of and interest in the +culture of life, and the tilling of the ground; getting them ready for what he +had hardly as yet dared to put into words even to himself. +</p> + +<p> +And one day he took Sam down to Old Orchard. It was the week before Christmas. +They had made their second visit to Jim the week before and he had spoken of +the spring and when he should get out into the world again. He seemed to be +planning to get even with those who had confined him for his wrongdoing. +Michael’s heart was filled with anxiety for him. +</p> + +<p> +There was something about Jim that appealed to Michael from the first. +</p> + +<p> +He had seen him first standing behind the grating of his cell, a great unkempt +hulk of a fellow with fiery red hair and brown eyes that roved restlessly, +hungrily through the corridor. He would have been handsome but for his weak, +girlish chin. Jim had melted almost to tears at sight of the scarlet geranium +they had carried him on that first visit, and seemed to care more for the +appearance of his old comrade “Mikky” than ever Sam had cared. +</p> + +<p> +Jim was to get out in April. If only there were some place for him to go! +</p> + +<p> +They talked of it on the way down, Sam seemed to think that Jim would find it +pretty hard to leave New York. Sam himself wasn’t much interested in the +continued, hints of Michael about going to the country. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothin’ doin’” was his constant refrain when Michael +tried to tell him how much better it would be if some of the congested part of +the city could be spread out into the wide country: especially for the poor +people, how much greater opportunity for success in life there would be for +them. +</p> + +<p> +But Sam had been duly impressed with the wideness of the landscape, on this his +first long trip out of the city, and as Michael unfolded to him the story of +the gift of the farm, and his own hopes for it, Sam left off his scorn and +began to give replies that showed he really was thinking about the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Say!” said he suddenly, “ef Buck was to come back would you +let him live down to your place an’ help do all them things you’re +plannin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“I surely would,” said Michael happily. “Say, Sam, do you, or +do you <i>not</i> know where Buck is?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam sat thoughtfully looking out of the window. At this point he turned his +gaze down to his feet and slowly, cautiously nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought so!” said Michael eagerly. “Sam, is he in hiding +for something he has done?” +</p> + +<p> +Still more slowly, cautiously, Sam nodded his head once more. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, will you send him a message from me?” +</p> + +<p> +Another nod. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him that I love him,” Michael breathed the words eagerly. His +heart remembered kindness from Buck more than any other lighting of his sad +childhood. “Tell him that I want him—that I need him! Tell him that +I want him to make an appointment to meet me somewhere and let us talk this +plan of mine over. I want him to go in with me and help me make that farm into +a fit place to take people who haven’t the right kind of homes, where +they can have honest work and good air and be happy! Will you tell him?” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam nodded his head emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“An’ Jim’ll help too ef Buck goes. That’s dead +sure!” Sam volunteered. +</p> + +<p> +“And Sam, I’m counting on you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing!” said Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Michael tramped all over the place with Sam, showing him everything and telling +all his plans. He was very familiar with his land now. He had planned the bog +for a cranberry patch, and had already negotiated for the bushes. He had +trimmed up the berry bushes in the garden himself during his various holiday +trips, and had arranged with a fisherman to dump a few haulings of shellfish on +one field where he thought that kind of fertilizer would be effective. He had +determined to use his hundred-dollar graduation present in fertilizer and seed. +It would not go far but it would be a beginning. The work he would have to get +some other way. He would have but little time to put to it himself until late +in the summer probably, and there was a great deal that ought to be done in the +early spring. He would have to be contented to go slow of course, and must +remember that unskilled labor is always expensive and wasteful; still it would +likely be all he could get. Just how he would feed and house even unskilled +labor was a problem yet to be solved. +</p> + +<p> +It was a day of many revelations to Sam. For one thing even the bare snowy +stretch, of wide country had taken on a new interest to him since Michael had +been telling all these wonderful things about the earth. Sam’s dull brain +which up to this time had never busied itself about anything except how to get +other men’s goods away from them, had suddenly awakened to the wonders of +the world. +</p> + +<p> +It was he that recognized a little colony of cocoons on the underside of leaves +and twigs and called attention to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, ain’t dem some o’ de critters you was showin’ de +fellers t’other night?” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael fell upon them eagerly. They happened to be rare specimens, and he +knew from college experience that such could be sold to advantage to the +museums. He showed Sam how to remove them without injuring them. A little +further on they came to a wild growth of holly, crazy with berries and +burnished thorny foliage, and near at hand a mistletoe bough loaded with tiny +white transparent berries. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t dem wot dey sell fer Chris’sum greens?” +Sam’s city eyes picked them out at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Michael delighted. “How stupid of me not to +have found them before. We’ll take a lot back with us and see if we can +get any price for it. Whatever we get we’ll devote to making the house +liveable. Holly and mistletoe ought to have a good market about now. +That’s another idea! Why not cultivate a lot of this stuff right in this +tract of land. It seems to grow without any trouble. See! There are lots of +little bushes. We’ll encourage them, Sam. And say, Sam, if you +hadn’t come along I might never have thought of that. You see I needed +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam grunted in a pleased way. +</p> + +<p> +When they came to the house it looked to Michael still more desolate in the +snowy stretch of setting than it had when the grass was about it. His heart +sank. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as we can ever do anything with the old shack,” +he said, shaking his head wistfully. “It looks worse than I +thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“’Tain’t so bad,” said Sam cheerfully. “Guess +it’s watertight.” He placed a speculative eye at the dusty window +pane he had wiped off with his coat sleeve. “Looks dry inside. +’Twould be a heap better’n sleepin’ on de pavement fer some. +Dat dere fire hole would take in a big lot o’ wood an’ I guess +dere’s a plenty round de place without robbin’ de woods +none.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael led him to the seashore and bade him look. He wanted to see what effect +it would have upon him. The coast swept wild and bleak in the cold December +day, and Sam shivered in his thin garments. A look of awe and fear came into +his face. He turned his back upon it. +</p> + +<p> +“Too big!” he said sullenly, and Michael understood that the sea in +its vastness oppressed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there’s a good deal of it,” he admitted, “but +after all it’s sort of like the geranium flower.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam turned back and looked. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I don’t see nothin’ like!” he grunted +despairingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it’s wonderful! Its beyond us! We couldn’t make it. +Look at that motion! See the white tossing rim of the waves! See that soft +green gray! Isn’t it just the color of the little down on the geranium +leaf? See the silver light playing back and forth, and look how it reaches as +far as you can see. Now, doesn’t it make you feel a little as it did when +you first looked at the geranium?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at Sam from his greater height almost wistfully. He wanted +him to understand, but Sam looked in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“Not fer mine!” he shrugged. “Gimme the posy every +time.” +</p> + +<p> +They walked in silence along the beach toward the flowing of the river, and Sam +eyed the ocean furtively as if he feared it might run up and engulf them +suddenly when they were not looking. He had seen the ocean from wharfs of +course; and once stole a ride in a pilot boat out into the deep a little way; +but he had never been alone thus with the whole sea at once as this seemed. It +was too vast for him to comprehend. Still, in a misty way he knew what Michael +was trying to make him understand, and it stirred him uncomfortably. +</p> + +<p> +They hired a little boat for a trifle and Michael with strong strokes rowed +them back to the farm, straight into the sunset. The sky was purple and gold +that night, and empurpled the golden river, whose ripples blended into pink and +lavender and green. Sam sat huddled in the prow of the boat facing it all. +Michael had planned it so. The oars dipped very quietly, and Sam’s small +eyes changed and widened and took it all in. The sun slipped lower in a crimson +ball, and a flood of crimson light broke through the purple and gold for a +moment and left a thin, clear line of flame behind. +</p> + +<p> +“Dere!” exclaimed Sam pointing excitedly. “Dat’s like +de posy. I kin see <i>thet</i> all right!” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael rested on his oars and looked back at the sunset, well pleased with +this day’s work. +</p> + +<p> +They left the boat at a little landing where its owner had promised to get it, +and went back through the wood, gathering a quantity of holly branches and +mistletoe; and when they reached the city Michael found a good market for it, +and received enough for what he had brought to more than cover the price of the +trip. The best of it was that Sam was as pleased with the bargain as if it were +for his personal benefit. +</p> + +<p> +When they parted Sam wore a sprig of mistletoe in his ragged buttonhole, and +Michael carried several handsome branches of holly back to his boarding place. +</p> + +<p> +Most of this he gave to Hester Semple to decorate the parlor with, but one fine +branch he kept and carried to his room and fastened it over his mirror. Then +after looking at it wistfully for a long time he selected a glossy spray +containing several fine large berries, cut it off and packed it carefully in a +tiny box. This without name or clue to sender, he addressed in printing letters +to Starr. Mr. Endicott had asked him to mail a letter to her as he passed by +the box the last time he had been in the office, and without his intention the +address had been burned into his memory. He had not expected to use it ever, +but there could be no harm surely in sending the girl this bit of Christmas +greeting out of the nowhere of a world of possible people. She would never know +he had sent it, and perhaps it would please her to get a piece of Christmas +holly from home. She might think her father had sent it. It mattered not, he +knew, and it helped him to think he might send this much of his thoughts over +the water to her. He pleased himself with thinking how she would look when she +opened the box. But whether she would be pleased or not he must only surmise, +for she would never know to thank him. Ah, well, it was as near as he dared +hope for touching life’s happiness. He must be glad for what he might +have, and try to work and forget the rest. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap15"></a>Chapter XV</h3> + +<p> +Now about this time the law firm with whom Michael worked became deeply +interested in their new “boy.” He studied hard, and seemed to know +what he was about all day. They saw signs of extraordinary talent in him. Once +or twice, thinking to make life pleasant for him, they had invited him to their +club, or to some evening’s entertainment, and always Michael had +courteously declined, saying that he had an engagement for the evening. They +casually questioned Will French, the other student, who was a happy-go-lucky; +in the office because his father wished him to study something and not because +he wanted to. Will said that Michael went out every evening and came in late. +Mrs. Semple had remarked that she often didn’t know whether he came in at +all until she saw him come down to breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +This report and a certain look of weariness about the eyes some mornings led +the senior member of the firm to look into Michael’s affairs. The natural +inference was that Michael was getting into social life too deeply, perhaps +wasting the hours in late revelry when he should have been sleeping. Mr. Holt +liked Michael, and dreaded to see the signs of dissipation appear on that fine +face. He asked Will French to make friends with him and find out if he could +where he spent his evenings. Will readily agreed, and at once entered on his +mission with a zeal which was beyond all baffling. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Endicott!” called Will as Michael reached the front door on +his way to his mission that same evening. “Where’re you going? +Wait, can’t you, and I’ll walk along with you? I was going to ask +you if you wouldn’t go to a show with me this evening. I haven’t +anything on for tonight and it’s slow.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he seized his coat and hat which he had purposely left in the hall +near at hand, and put them on. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Michael, as they went out together, +“I’d be glad to go with you but I have something that can’t +be put off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, go tomorrow night with me, will you? I like you and I think we +ought to be friends.” +</p> + +<p> +Will’s idea was that they would get to talking at a “show” +and he could find out a good deal in that way. He thought it must be a girl. He +had told the senior Holt that it was a girl of course and he wouldn’t +take long to spot her. It must be either a girl or revelry to take the fellow +out every night in the week so late. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m sorry,” said Michael again, “but I’m +afraid I have an engagement every night. It’s rather a permanent job +I’m engaged in. What do you do with your evenings?” +</p> + +<p> +Will launched into a gay description of parties and entertainments to which he +had been bidden, and nice girls he knew, hinting that he might introduce +Michael if he was so inclined, and Michael talked on leading his unsuspecting +companion further and further from the subject of his own evenings. Finally +they came to a corner and Michael halted. +</p> + +<p> +“I turn here,” he said; “which way do you go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I turn too,” laughed French. “That is, if you +don’t object. I’m out for a walk and I don’t care much what I +do. If I’m not welcome just tell me and I’ll clear out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you’re quite welcome,” said Michael; +“I’m glad to have company, but the quarter I’m walking to is +not a pleasant one for a walk, and indeed you mightn’t like to return +alone even so early in the evening if you walk far. I had an unpleasant +encounter myself once, but I know the ways of the place now and it’s +different.” +</p> + +<p> +Will eyed him curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it allowable to ask where we’re going?” he asked in a +comical tone. +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. If you’re bound to go I’ll have to tell you all +about it, but I strongly advise you to turn back now, for it isn’t a very +savory neighborhood, and I don’t believe you’ll care for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where thou goest I will go,” mocked Will. “My curiosity is +aroused. I shall certainly go. If it’s safe for you, it is for me. My +good looks are not nearly so valuable as yours, nor so noticeable. As I have no +valuables in the world, I can’t be knocked down for booty.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see they all know me,” explained Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they do! And can’t you introduce me? Or don’t you like +to?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I can,” laughed Michael, “if you really want me +to, but I’m afraid you’ll turn and run when you see them. You see +they’re not very—handsome. They’re not what you’re used +to. You wouldn’t want to know them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to,” said Michael desperately. “They needed something +and I had to help them!” +</p> + +<p> +Up to this point Will French had been sure that Michael had fallen into the +hands of a set of sharpers, but something in his companion’s tone made +him turn and look, and he saw Michael’s face uplifted in the light of the +street lamp, glowing with, a kind of intent earnestness that surprised and awed +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, man,” he said. “Tell me who they are, and what +you are doing, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael told him in a few words, saying little about himself, or his reason for +being interested in the alley in the first place. There were a few neglected +newsboys, mere kids. He was trying to teach them a few things, reading and +figures and a little manual training. Something to make life more than a round +of suffering and sin. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it settlement work?” asked French. He was puzzled and +interested. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” explained Michael, “there’s a settlement, but +it’s too far away and got too big a district to reach this alley. +It’s just my own little work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who pays you for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who pays me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, who’s behind the enterprise? Who forks over the funds and +pays you for your job?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed long and loud. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now, I hadn’t thought about pay, but I guess the kiddies +themselves do. You can’t think how they enjoy it all.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” said French, “I think I’ll go along and +see how you do it. I won’t scare ’em out, will I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now I hadn’t thought of that,” said Michael. “In +fact, I didn’t suppose you’d care to go all the way, but if you +think you do, I guess it will be all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a very warm welcome, I must say,” laughed Will, “but +I’m going just the same. You get me in and I’ll guarantee not to +scare the crowd. Have any time left over from your studies for amusement? If +you do I might come in on that. I can do tricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you?” said Michael looking at his unbidden guest doubtfully. +“Well, we’ll see. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. +It’s very informal. Sometimes we don’t get beyond the first step in +a lesson. Sometimes I have to stop and tell stories.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” said Will. “I’d like to hear you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you wouldn’t enjoy it, but there are a few books there. You +might read if you get tired looking around the room.” +</p> + +<p> +And so Michael and his guest entered the yellow and white room together. +Michael lit the gas, and Will looked about blinking in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +Coming through the alley to the room had taken away Will’s exclamatory +powers and exhausted his vocabulary. The room in its white simplicity, +immaculately kept, and constantly in touch with fresh paint to hide any stray +finger marks, stood out in startling contrast with the regions round about it. +Will took it all in, paint, paper, and pictures. The tiny stove glowing warmly, +the improvised seats, the blackboard in the corner, and the bits of life as +manifested in geranium, butterfly cocoons and bird’s nests; then he +looked at Michael, tall and fine and embarrassed, in the centre of it all. +</p> + +<p> +“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “Is this an enchanted island, or +am I in my right mind?” +</p> + +<p> +But before he could be answered there came the sound of mattering young feet +and a tumult outside the door. Then eager, panting, but decorous, they entered, +some with clean faces, most of them with clean hands, or moderately so, all +with their caps off in homage to their Prince; and Michael welcomed them as if +he stood in a luxurious drawing room on Fifth Avenue and these were his guests. +</p> + +<p> +He introduced them, and Will entered into the spirit of the affair and greeted +them chummily. They stood shyly off from him at first with great eyes of +suspicion, huddled together in a group near Michael, but later when the lesson +on the blackboard was over and Michael was showing a set of pictures, Will sat +down in a corner with a string from his pocket and began showing two of the +boldest of the group some tricks. This took at once, and when he added a little +sleight-of-hand pulling pennies from the hair and pockets and hands of the +astonished youngsters and allowing them to keep them after the game was over, +they were ready to take him into their inner circle at once. +</p> + +<p> +When, however, Sam, who was most unaccountably late that night, sidled in +alone, he looked at the stranger with eyes of belligerence; and when Michael +introduced him as his friend, Sam’s eyes glinted with a jealous light. +Sam did not like Michael to have any friends of that sort. This new man had +shiny boots, fine new clothes, wore his hair nicely brushed, and manipulated a +smooth handkerchief with fingers as white as any gentleman. To be sure Michael +was like that, but then Michael was Michael. He belonged to them, and his +clothes made him no worse. But who was this intruder? A gentleman? All +gentlemen were natural enemies to Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Come outside,” said Sam to Michael gruffly, ignoring the white +hand Will held out cordially. Michael saw there was something on his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Will, can you amuse these kids a minute or two while I step out? +I’ll not be long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Will heartily. He hadn’t had such a good time in +months and what a story he would have to tell the senior partner in the +morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Ever try to lift a fellow’s hand off the top of his head? Here, +you kid, sit in that chair and put your right hand flat on the top of your +head. Now, sonnie, you lift it off. Pull with all your might. That’s +it—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes shone, and even Sam grinned surreptitiously. +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll do,” he said to Sam as they went out. “He was +lonesome this evening and wanted to come along with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Lonesome! A fellow like that! It gave Sam a new idea to think about. Did people +who had money and education and were used to living in clothes like that get +lonesome? Sam cast a kindlier eye back at Will as he closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +Alone in the dark cold entry where the wind whistled up from the river and +every crack seemed a conductor of a blast, Sam and Michael talked in low tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, he’s lit out!” Sam’s tone conveyed dismay as well +as apology. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sign of Michael’s real eagerness that he knew at once who was +meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam grunted assent. +</p> + +<p> +“When?” +</p> + +<p> +“Day er so ago, I tuk yer word to ’im but he’d gone. +Lef’ word he had a big deal on, an’ ef it came troo all right +’e’d send fer us. You see it wan’t safe round here no more. +The police was onto his game. Thur wan’t no more hidin’ fer him. He +was powerful sorry not to see you. He’d always thought a heap o’ +Mikky!” +</p> + +<p> +“How long had he known I was here?” Michael’s face was grave +in the darkness. Why had Buck not sent him some word? Made some appointment? +</p> + +<p> +“Since you first cum back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—oh, Sam, why didn’t he let me come and see him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It warn’t safe,” said Sam earnestly. “Sure thing, it +warn’t! ’Sides—” +</p> + +<p> +“Besides what, Sam?” The question was eager. +</p> + +<p> +“’Sides, he knowed you’d had edicashun, an’ he knowed +how you looked on his way o’ livin’. He didn’t know +but—” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean he didn’t trust me, Sam?” Sam felt the keen eyes +upon him even hi the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“Naw, he didn’t tink you’d snitch on him ner nothin’, +but he didn’t know but you might tink you had to do some tings what might +kick it all up wid him. You’d b’en out o’ tings fer years, +an’ you didn’t know de ways o’ de city. ’Sides, he +ain’t seed you like I done—” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said Michael, “I understand. It’s a long time +and of course he only knows what you have told him, and if there was +danger,—but oh, Sam, I wish he could go down to Old Orchard. Did you ever +tell him about it, and about my plans?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure ting I did. Tole ’im all you tole me. He said ’twar all +right. Ef he comes out on dis deal he’ll be back in a while, an’ +he’ll go down dere ef you want him. He said he’d bring a little wad +back to make things go ef dis deal went troo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know what the deal is, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it dis—is it”—he paused for a word that would +convey his meaning and yet not offend—“is it—dangerous, +Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” admitted Sam solemnly as though it hurt him to pain his +friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean it will make more hiding for him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” emphatically grave. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish he hadn’t gone!” There was sharp pain in +Michael’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I wisht so too!’” said Sam with a queer little choke to his +voice, “Mebbe ’twon’t come off after all. Mebbe it’ll +git blocked. Mebbe he’ll come back.” +</p> + +<p> +The anxiety in Sam’s tone touched Michael, but another thought had struck +him hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam,” said he plucking at the others sleeve in the darkness, +“Sam, tell me, what was Buck doing—before he went away. Was it all +straight? Was he in the same business with you?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam breathed heavily but did not answer. At last with difficulty he answered a +gruff, “Nope!” +</p> + +<p> +“What was it, Sam? Won’t you tell me?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be snitchin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to me, Sam. You know I belong to you all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’ve got new notions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” admitted Michael, “I can’t help that, but I +don’t go back on you, do I?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you don’t go back on we’uns, that’s so. But you +don’t like we’s doin’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. Tell me, Sam. I think I must know.” +</p> + +<p> +“He kep a gamein’ den—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Sam!” Michael’s voice was stricken, and his great +athletic hand gripped Sam’s hard skinny one, and Sam in the darkness +gripped back. +</p> + +<p> +“I knowed you’d feel thet way,” he mourned as if the fault +were all in his telling. “I wisht I hadn’t ’a tole +yer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Sam, you couldn’t help it, and I suppose I +wouldn’t have known the difference myself if I hadn’t gone away. We +mustn’t judge Buck harshly. He’ll see it the other way by and +by.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam straightened perceptibly. There was something in this speech that put him +in the same class with Michael. He had never before had any qualms of +conscience concerning gambling, but now he found himself almost unawares +arrayed against it. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess mebbe!” he said comfortingly, and then seeking to change +the subject. “Say, is dat guy in dere goin’ along to de +farm?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, dat ike you lef’ in de room. Is he goin’ down +’long when wees go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Will French! No, Sam. He doesn’t know anything about it yet. I +may tell him sometime, but he doesn’t need that. He is studying to be a +lawyer. Perhaps some day if he gets interested he’ll help do what I want +for the alley, and all the other alleys in the city; make better laws and see +that they’re enforced.” +</p> + +<p> +“Laws!” said Sam in a startled voice. “What laws!” +</p> + +<p> +Laws were his natural enemies he thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Laws for better tenement houses, more room and more windows, better air, +cleaner streets, room for grass and flowers, pure milk and meat, and less +crowding and dirt. Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time Michael had gone so deep into his plans with Sam, and he +longed now to have his comradeship in this hope too. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sure!” said Sam much relieved that Michael had not mentioned +laws about gambling dens and pickpockets. Sam might be willing to reform his +own course in the brilliant wake of Michael but as yet he had not reached the +point where he cared to see vice and dishonesty swept off the globe. +</p> + +<p> +They went slowly back to the white room to find Will French leading a chorus of +small urchins in the latest popular melody while they kept time with an awkward +shuffle of their ill-shod feet. +</p> + +<p> +Sam growled: “Cut it out, kids, you scratch de floor,” and Will +French subsided with apologies. +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought of the floor, Endicott. Say, you ought to have a +gymnasium and a swimming pool here.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish we had,” he declared, “but I’d begin on a +bath-room. We need that first of all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let’s get one,” said Will eagerly. “That +wouldn’t cost so much. We could get some people to contribute a little. I +know a man that has a big plumbing establishment. He’d do a little +something. I mean to tell him about it. Is there any place it could be +put?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam followed them wondering, listening, interested, as they went out into the +hall to see the little dark hole which might with ingenuity be converted into a +bath-room, and while he leaned back against the door-jamb, hands in his +pockets, he studied the face of the newcomer. +</p> + +<p> +“Guess dat guy’s all right,” he reassured Michael as he +helped him turn the lights out a little later, while Will waited on the +doorstep whistling a new tune to his admiring following. Will had caught +“de kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Endicott,” he said as they walked up the noisy midnight +street and turned into the avenue, “why don’t you get Hester to go +down there and sing sometime? Sunday afternoon. She’d go. Ask her.” +</p> + +<p> +And that night was the beginning of outside help for Michael’s mission. +</p> + +<p> +Hester fell into the habit of going down Sunday afternoons, and soon she had an +eager following of sad-eyed women, and eager little children; and Will French +spent his leisure hours in hunting up tricks and games and puzzles, for +“the kids.” +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, the account he had given to Holt and Holt of the way Michael spent +his evenings, was not without fruit. +</p> + +<p> +About a week after French’s first visit to the alley, the senior Mr. Holt +paused beside Michael’s desk one afternoon just before going out of the +office and laid a bit of paper in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“French tells me you’re interested in work in the slums,” he +said in the same tone he used to give Michael an order for his daily routine. +“I’d like to help a little if you can use that.” He passed on +out of the office before Michael had fully comprehended what had been said. The +young man looked down at the paper and saw it was a check made out to himself +for one hundred dollars! +</p> + +<p> +With a quick exclamation of gratitude he was on his feet and out into the hall +after his employer. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, Endicott. I don’t get as much time as +I’d like to look after the charities, and when I see a good thing I like +to give it a boost. Call on me if you need money for any special scheme. And +I’ll mention it to some of my clients occasionally,” said the old +lawyer, well pleased with Michael’s gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +He did, and right royally did the clients respond. Every little while a +ten-dollar bill or a five, and now and then a check for fifty would find its +way to Michael’s desk; for Will French, thoroughly interested, kept Holt +and Holt well supplied with information concerning what was needed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap16"></a>Chapter XVI</h3> + +<p> +Before the winter was over Michael was able to put in the bath-room and had +bought a plow and a number of necessary farm implements, and secured the +services of a man who lived near Old Orchard to do some early plowing and +planting. He was able also to buy seeds and fertilizer, enough at least to +start his experiment; and toward spring, he took advantage of a holiday, and +with Sam and a carpenter went down to the farm and patched up the old house to +keep out the rain. +</p> + +<p> +After that a few cots, some boxes for chairs and tables, some cheap +comfortables for cool nights, some dishes and cooking utensils from the +ten-cent store, and the place would be ready for his alley-colony when he +should dare to bring them down. A canvas cot and a wadded comfortable would be +luxury to any of them. The only question was, would they be contented out of +the city? +</p> + +<p> +Michael had read many articles about the feasibility of taking the poor of the +cities into the country, and he knew that experience had shown they were in +most cases miserable to get back again. He believed in his heart that this +might be different if the conditions were made right. In the first place they +must have an environment full of new interest to supply the place of the +city’s rush, and then they must have some great object which they would +be eager to attain. He felt, too, that they should be prepared beforehand for +their new life. +</p> + +<p> +To this end he had been for six months spending two or three hours a week with +five or six young fellows Sam had tolled in. He had brought the agricultural +papers to the room, and made much of the illustrations. The boys as a rule +could not read, so he read to them, or rather translated into their own +slang-ful English. He told them what wonders had been attained by farming in +the right way. As these fellows had little notion about farming in any way, or +little knowledge of farm products save as they came to them through the markets +in their very worst forms, it became necessary to bring cabbages and apples, +and various other fruits and vegetables for their inspection. +</p> + +<p> +One night he brought three or four gnarled, little green-skinned, sour, +speckled apples, poorly flavored. He called attention to them very carefully, +and then because an apple was a treat, however poor it might be, he asked them +to notice the flavor as they ate. Then he produced three or four magnificent +specimens of apple-hood, crimson and yellow, with polished skin and delicious +flavor, and set them in a row on the table beside some more of the little +specked apples. They looked like a sunset beside a ditch. The young men drew +around the beautiful apples admiringly, feeling of their shiny streaks as if +they half thought them painted, and listening to the story of their development +from the little sour ugly specimens they had just been eating. When it came to +the cutting up of the perfect apples every man of them took an intelligent +pleasure in the delicious fruit. +</p> + +<p> +Other nights, with the help of Will and Hester, Michael gave demonstrations of +potatoes, and other vegetables, with regular lessons on how to get the best +results with these particular products. Hester managed in some skilful manner +to serve a very tasty refreshment from roasted potatoes, cooked just right, at +the same time showing the difference in the quality between the soggy potatoes +full of dry rot, and those that were grown under the right conditions. +Occasionally a cup of coffee or some delicate sandwiches helped out on a +demonstration, of lettuce or celery or cold cabbage in the form of slaw, and +the light refreshments served with the agricultural lessons became a most +attractive feature of Michael’s evenings. More and more young fellows +dropped in to listen to the lesson and enjoy the plentiful “eats” +as they called them. When they reached the lessons on peas and beans the split +pea soup and good rich bean soup were ably appreciated. +</p> + +<p> +Not that all took the lessons with equal eagerness, but Michael began to feel +toward spring that his original five with Sam as their leader would do +comparatively intelligent work on the farm, the story of which had been +gradually told them from night to night, until they were quite eager to know if +they might be included in those who were to be pioneers in the work. +</p> + +<p> +Will French faithfully reported the condition of the work, and more and more +friends and clients of the office would stop at Michael’s desk and chat +with him for a moment about the work, and always leave something with him to +help it along. Michael’s eyes shone and his heart beat high with hopes in +these days. +</p> + +<p> +But there was still a further work for him to do before his crude apprentices +should be ready to be sent down into the wilds of nature. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael began one evening to tell them of the beauty and the wonder of the +world. One night he used a cocoon as illustration and for three evenings they +all came with bated breath and watched the strange little insignificant roll, +almost doubting Michael’s veracity, yet full of curiosity, until one +night it burst its bonds and floated up into the white ceiling, its pale green, +gorgeously marked wings working a spell upon their hearts, that no years could +ever make them quite forget. It was the miracle of life and they had never seen +it nor heard of it before. +</p> + +<p> +Another night he brought a singing bird in a cage, and pictures of other birds +who were naturally wild. He began to teach them the ways of the birds they +would see in New Jersey, how to tell their songs apart, where to look for their +nests; all the queer little wonderful things that a bird lover knows, and that +Michael because of his long habits of roaming about the woods knew by heart. +The little bird in its cage stayed in the yellow and white room, and strange to +say thrived, becoming a joy and a wonder to all visitors, and a marvel to those +who lived in the court because of its continuous volume of brilliant song, +bursting from a heart that seemed to be too full of happiness and must bubble +over into music. The “kids” and even the older fellows felt a +proprietorship in it, and liked to come and stand beneath the cage and call to +it as it answered “peep” and peeked between the gilded bars to +watch them. +</p> + +<p> +One night, with the help of Will French who had some wealthy friends, Michael +borrowed a large picture of a sunset, and spoke to them about the sunlight and +its effects on growing things, and the wonder of its departure for the night. +</p> + +<p> +By this time they would listen in awed silence to anything Michael said, though +the picture was perhaps one too many for most of them. Sam, however, heard with +approval, and afterwards went up reverently and laid his finger on the crimson +and the purple and the gold of the picture. Sam knew, and understood, for he +had seen the real thing. Then he turned to the others and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, fellers, it’s aw-right. You wait till yer see one. Fine ez +silk, an’ twicet as nateral.” +</p> + +<p> +One big dark fellow who had lately taken to coming to the gatherings, turned +scornfully away, and replied: “Aw shucks! I don’t see nodding in +it!” but loyalty to Michael prevented others who might have secretly +favored this view from expressing it, and the big dark fellow found himself in +the minority. +</p> + +<p> +And so the work went on. Spring was coming, and with it the end of Jim’s +“term,” and the beginning of Michael’s experiment on the +farm. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime Michael was working hard at his law, and studying half the night when +he came back from the alley work. If he had not had an iron constitution, and +thirteen years behind him of healthy out-door life, with plenty of sleep and +exercise and good food, he could not have stood it. As it was, the hard work +was good for him, for it kept him from brooding over himself, and his own +hopeless love of the little girl who was far across the water. +</p> + +<p> +Some weeks after Christmas there had come a brief note from Starr, his name +written in her hand, the address in her father’s. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Michael,<br> + I am just almost sure that I am indebted to you for the lovely little sprig +of holly that reached me on Christmas. I have tried and tried to think who the +sender might be, for you see I didn’t know the writing, or rather +printing. But today it fell down from over the picture where I had fastened, it +on the wall, and I noticed what I had not seen before, ‘A Happy +Christmas’ in the very tiny little letters of the message cut or +scratched on the under side of the stem; and the letters reminded me of you and +the charming little surprises you used to send me long ago from Florida when I +was a little girl. Then all at once I was sure it was you who sent the holly, +and I am sitting right down to write and thank you for it. You see I was very +lonesome and homesick that Christmas morning, for most of the girls in the +school had gone home for Christmas, and mamma, who had been intending to come +and take me away to Paris for the holidays, had written that she was not well +and couldn’t come after all, so I knew I would have to be here all +through the gay times by myself. I was feeling quite doleful even with the +presents that mamma sent me, until I opened the little box and saw the dear +little bright holly berries; that cheered me up and made me think of home. I +kept it on my desk all day so that the bright berries would make me feel +Christmassy, and just before dinner that night what do you think happened? Why, +my dear daddy came to surprise me, and we took the loveliest trip together, to +Venice and Florence and Rome. It was beautiful! I wish you could have been +along and seen everything. I know you would have enjoyed it. I must not take +the time to write about it because I ought to be studying. This is a very +pleasant place and a good school but I would rather be at home, and I shall be +glad when I am done and allowed to come back to my own country.<br> + Thanking you ever so much for the pretty little Christmas reminder, for you +see I am sure you sent it, and wishing you a belated Happy New Year, I am<br> + Your friend, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +STARR DELEVAN ENDICOTT. +</p> + +<p> +Michael read and re-read the letter, treasured the thoughts and visions it +brought him, pondered the question of whether he might answer it, and decided +that he had no right. Then he put it away with his own heartache, plunging into +his work with redoubled energy, and taking an antidote of so many pages of +Blackstone when his thoughts lingered on forbidden subjects. So the winter fled +away and spring came stealing on apace. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap17"></a>Chapter XVII</h3> + +<p> +As Michael had no definite knowledge of either his exact age, or what month his +birthday came, there could be no day set for his coming of age. The little +information that could be gathered from his own memory of how many summers and +winters he had passed showed that he was approximately seven years old at the +time of the shooting affray. If that were correct it would make him between +nineteen and twenty at the time of his graduation. +</p> + +<p> +On the first day of July following his first winter in New York Michael +received a brief letter from Mr. Endicott, containing a check for a thousand +dollars, with congratulations on his majority and a request that he call at the +office the next day. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, eager, grateful, overwhelmed, was on hand to the minute appointed. +</p> + +<p> +The wealthy business man, whose banking affairs had long since righted +themselves, turned from his multifarious duties, and rested his eyes upon the +young fellow, listening half-amused to his eager thanks. +</p> + +<p> +The young man in truth was a sight to rest weary eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The winter in New York had put new lines into his face and deepened the wells +of his blue eyes; they were the work of care and toil and suffering, +but—they had made a man’s face out of a boy’s fresh +countenance. There was power in the fine brow, strength in the firm, +well-moulded chin, and both kindliness and unselfishness in the lovely curves +of his pleasant lips. The city barber had been artist enough not to cut the +glorious hair too short while yet giving it the latest clean cut curve behind +the ears and in the neck. By instinct Michael’s hands were well cared +for. Endicott’s tailor had looked out for the rest. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, son,” Endicott cut Michael’s +sentence short. “I’m pleased with the way you’ve been doing. +Holt tells me he never had a more promising student in his office. He says +you’re cut out for the law, and you’re going to be a success. But +what’s this they tell me about you spending your evenings in the slums? I +don’t like the sound of that. Better cut that out.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael began to tell in earnest protesting words of what he was trying to do, +but Endicott put up an impatient hand: +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very well, son, I’ve no doubt they appreciate +your help and all that, and it’s been very commendable in you to give +your time, but now you owe yourself something, and you owe the world something. +You’ve got to turn out a great lawyer and prove to the world that people +from that district are worth helping. That’s the best way in the long run +to help those people. Give them into somebody else’s hands now. +You’ve done your part. When you get to be a rich man you can give them +something now and then if you like, but it’s time to cut out the work +now. That sort of thing might be very popular in a political leader, but +you’ve got your way to make and it’s time you gave your evenings to +culture, and to going out into society somewhat. Here’s a list of +concerts and lectures for next winter. You ought to go to them all. I’m +sorry I didn’t think of it this winter, but perhaps it was as well not to +go too deep at the start. However, you ought to waste no more time. I’ve +put your application in for season tickets for those things on that list, and +you’ll receive tickets in due time. There’s an art exhibition or +two where there are good things to be seen. You’ve got to see and hear +everything if you want to be a thoroughly educated man. I said a word or two +about you here and there, and I think you’ll receive some invitations +worth accepting pretty soon. You’ll need a dress suit, and I had word +sent to the tailor about it this morning when it occurred to me—” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said Michael amazed and perturbed, “I do not belong in +society. People do not want one like me there. If they knew they would not ask +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bosh! All bosh! Didn’t I tell you to cut that out? People +don’t know and you’ve no need to tell them. They think you are a +distant relative of mine if they think anything about it, and you’re not +to tell them you are not. You owe it to me to keep still about it. If I +guarantee you’re all right that ought to suit anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t go where people thought I was more than I was,” +said Michael, head up, eyes shining, his firmest expression on his mouth, but +intense trouble in his eyes. It was hard to go against his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +“You got all those foolish notions from working down there in the slums. +You’re got a false idea of yourself and a false notion of right and +wrong. It’s high time you stopped going there. After you’ve been to +a dance or two and a few theatre suppers, and got acquainted with some nice +girls who’ll invite you to their house-parties you’ll forget you +ever had anything to do with the slums. I insist that you give that work up at +once. Promise me you will not go near the place again. Write them a +letter—” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t do that!” said Michael, his face expressive of +anguish fighting with duty. +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t! Nonsense. There is no such word. I say I want you to do +it. Haven’t I proved my right to make that request?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have,” said Michael, dropping his sorrowing eyes slowly, and +taking out the folded check from his pocket. “You have the right to ask +it, but I have no right to do what you ask. I have begun the work, and it would +not be right to stop it. Indeed, I couldn’t. If you knew what it means to +those fellows—but I cannot keep this if you feel that way! I was going to +use it for the work—but now—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s pauses were eloquent. Endicott was deeply touched but he would +not show it. He was used to having his own way, and it irritated, while it +pleased him in a way, to have Michael so determined. As Michael stopped talking +he laid the check sadly on the desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” said Endicott irritably, “this has nothing to do +with the check. That was your birthday present. Use it as you like. What I have +given I have given and I won’t take back even if I have nothing more to +do with you from this time forth. I have no objection to your giving away as +much money as you can spare to benevolent institutions, but I say that I do +object to your wasting your time and your reputation in such low places. It +will injure you eventually, it can’t help it. I want you to take your +evenings for society and for lectures and concerts—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go to the concerts and lectures gladly,” said Michael +gravely. “I can see they will be fine for me, and I thank you very much +for the opportunity, but that will not hinder my work. It begins always rather +late in the evening, and there are other times—” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve no business to be staying out in places like that after the +hour of closing of decent places of amusement.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael refrained from saying that he had several times noticed society ladies +returning from balls and entertainments when he was on his way home. +</p> + +<p> +“I simply can’t have it if I’m to stand back of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m, sorry,” said Michael. “You won’t ever know +how sorry I am. It was so good to know that I had somebody who cared a little +for me. I shall miss it very much. It has been almost like having a real +father. Do you mean that you will have to give up +the—fatherliness?” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott’s voice shook with mingled emotions. It couldn’t be that +this young upstart who professed to be so grateful and for whom he had done so +much would actually for the sake of a few wretched beings and a sentimental +feeling that he belonged in the slums and ought to do something for them, run +the risk of angering him effectually. It could not be! +</p> + +<p> +“It means that I shall not do any of the things I had planned to do for +you, if you persist in refusing my most reasonable request. Listen, young +man—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael noticed with keen pain that he had dropped the customary +“son” from his conversation, and it gave him a queer choky +sensation of having been cut off from the earth. +</p> + +<p> +“I had planned”—the keen eyes searched the beautiful manly +face before him and the man’s voice took on an insinuating tone; the tone +he used when he wished to buy up some political pull; the tone that never +failed to buy his man. Yet even as he spoke he felt an intuition that here was +a man whom he could not buy— +</p> + +<p> +“I had planned to do a good many things for you. You will be through your +studies pretty soon and be ready to set up for yourself. Had you thought ahead +enough to know whether you would like a partnership in some old firm or whether +you want to set up for yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s voice was grave and troubled but he answered at once: +</p> + +<p> +“I would like to set up for myself, sir. There are things I must do, and +I do not know if a partner would feel as I do about them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Endicott with satisfaction. He could not but be +pleased with the straightforward, decided way in which the boy was going ahead +and shaping his own life. It showed he had character. There was nothing Mr. +Endicott prized more than character—or what he called character: +“Very well, when you get ready to set up for yourself, and I don’t +think that is going to be so many years off from what I hear, I will provide +you an office, fully furnished, in the most desirable quarter of the city, and +start you off as you ought to be started in order to win. I will introduce you +to some of my best friends, and put lucrative business in your way, business +with the great corporations that will bring you into immediate prominence; then +I will propose your name for membership in two or three good clubs. Now those +things I will do because I believe you have it in you to make good; but +you’ll need the boosting. Every man in this city does. Genius alone +can’t work you up to the top; but I can give you what you need and I mean +to do it, only I feel that you on your part ought to be willing to comply with +the conditions.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a deep silence in the room. Michael was struggling to master his +voice, but when he spoke it was husky with suppressed feeling: +</p> + +<p> +“It is a great plan,” he said. “It is just like you. I thank +you, sir, for the thought, with all my heart. It grieves me more than anything +I ever had to do to say no to you, but I cannot do as you ask. I cannot give up +what I am trying to do. I feel it would be wrong for me. I feel that it is +imperative, sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Cannot! Humph! Cannot! You are like all the little upstart reformers, +filled with conceit of course. You think there is no one can do the work but +yourself! I will pay some one to do what you are doing! Will that satisfy +you?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael slowly shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No one could do it for pay,” he said with conviction. “It +must be done from—perhaps it is love—I do not know. But anyway, no +one was doing it, and I must, for THEY ARE MY PEOPLE!” +</p> + +<p> +As he said this the young man lifted his head with that angel-proud look of his +that defied a universe to set him from his purpose, and Endicott while he +secretly reveled in the boy’s firmness and purpose, yet writhed that he +could not control this strength as he would. +</p> + +<p> +“Your people! Bosh! You don’t even know that! You may be the son of +the richest man in New York for all you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“The more shame mine, then, if he left me where you found me! Mr. +Endicott, have you ever been down in the alley where I used to live? Do you +know the conditions down there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, nor I don’t want to go. And what’s more I don’t +want you to go again. Whatever you were or are, you ought to see that you are +mine now. Why, youngster, how do you know but you were kidnapped for a ransom, +and the game went awry? There are a thousand explanations of your unknown +presence there. You may have been lost—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then have I not a debt to the people with whom I lived!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, poppycock!” exclaimed the man angrily. “We’d +better close the conversation. You understand how I feel. If you think it over +and change your mind come back and tell me within the week. I sail Saturday for +Europe. I may not be back in three or four months. If you don’t make up +your mind before I go you can write to me here at the office and my secretary +will forward it. You have disappointed me beyond anything I could have dreamed. +I am sure when you think it over you will see how wrong you are and change your +mind. Until then, good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael arose dismissed, but he could not go that way. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not change my mind,” he said sadly, “but it is +terrible not to have you understand. Won’t you let me tell you all about +it? Won’t you let me explain?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t want to hear any explanations. There is only one thing +for me to understand and that is that you think more of a set of vagabonds in +an alley than you do of my request!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! That is not true!” said Michael. “I think more of you +than of any living man. I do not believe I could love you more if you were my +own father. I would give my life for you this minute—” +</p> + +<p> +“There is an old word somewhere that says, ‘To obey is better than +sacrifice.’ Most people think they would rather be great heroes than do +the simple every-day things demanded of them. The test does not always prove +that they would—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s head went up almost haughtily, but there were great tears in +his eyes. Endicott dropped his own gaze from that sorrowful face. He knew his +words were false and cruel. He knew that Michael would not hesitate a second to +give his life. But the man could not bear to be withstood. +</p> + +<p> +“If you feel that way I cannot take this!” Michael sadly, proudly +held out the check. +</p> + +<p> +“As you please!” said Endicott curtly. “There’s the +waste-basket. Put it in if you like. It isn’t mine any longer. You may +spend it as you please. My conditions have nothing to do with what is past. If +you do not prize my gift to you by all means throw it away.” +</p> + +<p> +With a glance that would have broken Endicott’s heart if he had not been +too stubborn to look up, Michael slowly folded the check and put it back into +his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I do prize it,” he said, “and I prize it because you gave it +to me. It meant and always will mean a great deal to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” +</p> + +<p> +“There is one more thing perhaps I ought to tell you,” hesitated +Michael “The farm. I am using it in my work for those people. Perhaps you +will not approve of that—” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing further to do with the farm. You bought it, I believe. +You desired to pay for it when you were earning enough money to be able to do +so. That time has not yet come, therefore nothing further need be said. It is +your farm and you may use it as a pleasure park for pigs if you like. I +don’t go back on my bargains. Good afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned to the ’phone, took up the receiver and called up a +number. Michael saw that the conversation was ended. Slowly, with heavy step +and heavier heart, he went out of the office. +</p> + +<p> +There were new lines of sadness on Michael’s face that day, and when he +went down to the alley that evening his gentleness with all the little +“kids,” and with the older ones, was so great that they looked at +him more than once with a new kind of awe and wonder. It was the gentleness of +sacrifice, of sacrifice for them, that was bringing with it the pain of love. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal who came over to “look in” that evening, as she put it, +shook her head as she stumped back to her rejuvenated room with its gaudy +flowered wall, bit of white curtain and pot of flowers in the window, all the +work of Michael and his follower Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thinkin’ he’ll disuppeer one o’ these days. +Ye’ll wake up an’ he’ll be gahn. He’s not of this +worrld. He’ll sprid his wings an’ away. He’s a man-angel, +thet’s wot he is!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael went home that night and wrote a letter to Mr. Endicott that would have +broken a heart of stone, telling his inmost thought; showing his love and +anguish in every sentence; and setting forth simply and unassumingly the +wonderful work he was doing in the alley. +</p> + +<p> +But though he waited in anxiety day after day he received not a word of reply. +Endicott read the letter every word, and fairly gloated over the boy’s +strength, but he was too stubborn to let it be known. Also he rather enjoyed +the test to which he was putting him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael even watched the outgoing vessels on Saturday, looked up the passenger +lists, went down to the wharf and tried to see him before he sailed, but for +some reason was unable to get in touch with him. +</p> + +<p> +Standing sadly on the wharf as the vessel sailed he caught sight of Endicott, +but though he was sure he had been seen he received no sign of recognition, and +he turned away sick at heart, and feeling as if he had for conscience’s +sake stabbed one that loved him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap18"></a>Chapter XVIII</h3> + +<p> +Those were trying days for Michael. +</p> + +<p> +The weather had turned suddenly very warm. The office was sometimes stifling. +The daily routine got upon his nerves, he who had never before known that he +had nerves. There was always the aching thought that Starr was gone from +him—forever—and now he had by his own word cut loose from her +father—forever! His literal heart saw no hope in the future. +</p> + +<p> +About that time, too, another sorrow fell upon him. He was glancing over the +paper one morning on his way to the office, and his eye fell on the following +item: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +LONE TRAIN BANDIT HURT IN FIGHT AFTER GETTING LOOT +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Captured by Conductor After He Had Rifled Mail Bags on Union Pacific Express +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Topeka, Kan., July—. A daring bandit was captured last night a he had +robbed the mail car on Union Pacific train No. —— which left Kansas +City for Denver at 10 o’clock.<br> + The train known as the Denver Express, carrying heavy mail, was just +leaving Kansas City, when a man ran across the depot platform and leaped into +the mail car through the open door. The clerk in charge faced the man, who +aimed a revolver at him. He was commanded to bind and gag his five associates, +and obeyed. The robber then went through all the registered pouches, stuffing +the packages into his pockets. Then he commanded the clerk to untie his +comrades.<br> + At Bonner Springs where the train made a brief stop the bandit ordered the +men to continue their work, so as not to attract the attention of persons at +the station. When Lawrence was reached the robber dropped from the car and ran +toward the rear of the train. The conductor summoned two Lawrence policemen and +all three followed. After a quick race, and a struggle during which the +bandit’s arm was broken, he was captured. It appears that the prisoner is +an old offender, for whom the police of New York have been searching in vain +for the past ten months. He is known in the lower districts of New York City as +“Fighting Buck,” and has a list of offenses against him too +numerous to mention. +</p> + +<p> +Michael did not know why his eye had been attracted to the item nor why he had +read the article through to the finish. It was not the kind of thing he cared +to read; yet of late all crime and criminals had held a sort of sorrowful +fascination for him. “It is what I might have done if I had stayed in the +alley,” he would say to himself when he heard of some terrible crime that +had been committed. +</p> + +<p> +But when he reached the end of the article and saw Buck’s name his heart +seemed to stand still. +</p> + +<p> +Buck! The one of all his old comrades whom he had loved the most, who had loved +him, and sacrificed for him; to whom he had written and sent money; whose brain +was brighter and whose heart bigger than any of the others; for whom he had +searched in vain, and found only to lose before he had seen him; whom he had +hoped yet to find and to save. Buck had done this, and was caught in his guilt. +And a government offense, too, robbing the mail bags! It would mean long, hard +service. It would mean many years before Michael could help him to the right +kind of life, even if ever. +</p> + +<p> +He asked permission to leave the office that afternoon, and took the train down +to the farm where Sam had been staying for some weeks. He read the article to +him, hoping against hope that Sam would say there was some mistake; would know +somehow that Buck was safe. But Sam listened with lowering countenance, and +when the reading was finished he swore a great oath, such as he had not uttered +before in Michael’s presence, and Michael knew that the story must be +true. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could be done now. The law must have its course, but Michael’s +heart was heavy with the weight of what might have been if he could but have +found Buck sooner. The next day he secured permission to begin his vacation at +once, and in spite of great need of his presence at Old Orchard he took the +train for Kansas. He felt that he must see Buck at once. +</p> + +<p> +All during that long dismal ride Michael’s heart was beating over and +over with the story of his own life. “I might have done this thing. I +would have dared and thought it brave if I had not been taught better. I might +be even now in jail with a broken arm and a useless life: the story of my crime +might be bandied through the country in the newspapers if it had not been for +Mr. Endicott—and little Starr! And yet I have hurt his feelings and +alienated his great kindness by refusing his request. Was there no other way? +Was there no other way?” And always his conscience answered, “There +was no other way!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael, armed with a letter from the senior Holt to a powerful member of +western municipal affairs, found entrance to Buck in his miserable confinement +quite possible. He dawned upon his one-time friend, out of the darkness of the +cell, as a veritable angel of light. Indeed, Buck, waking from a feverish sleep +on his hard little cot, moaning and cursing with the pain his arm was giving +him, started up and looked at him with awe and horror! The light from the +corridor caught the gold in Michael’s hair and made his halo perfect; and +Buck thought for the moment that some new terror had befallen him, and he was +in the hands of the angel of death sent to summon him to a final judgment for +all his misdeeds. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael met his old friend with tenderness, and a few phrases that had been +wont to express their childish loyalty; and Buck, weakened by the fever and the +pain, and more than all by his own defeat and capture, broke down and wept, and +Michael wept with him. +</p> + +<p> +“It might have been me instead of you, Buck. If I had stayed behind, +I’d have done all those things. I see it clearly. I might have been lying +here and you out and free. Buck, if it could give you my chance in life, and +help you see it all as I do I’d gladly lie here and take your +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky! Mikky!” cried Buck. “It’s me own Mikky! You was +allus willin’ to take de rubs! But, Mikky, ef you’d hed de +trainin’ you’d hev made de fine robber! You’d hev been a +peach an’ no mistake!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had found a soft spot in the warden’s heart and succeeded in +doing a number of little things for Buck’s comfort. He hunted up the +chaplain and secured a promise from him to teach Buck to read and write, and +also to read to him all letters that Buck received, until such a time as he +should be able to read them for himself. He sent a pot of roses with buds and +full bloom to perfume the dark cell, and he promised to write often; while Buck +on his part could only say over and over; “Oh, Mikky! Mikky! Ef we wos +oney kids agin! Oh, Mikky, I’ll git out o’ here yit an’ find +ye. Ye’ll not be ashamed o’ me. Ef I oney hadn’t a bungled de +job. It were a bum job! Mikky! A bum job!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael saw that there was little use in talking to Buck about his sin. Buck +had nothing whatever to build upon in the line of morals. To be loyal to his +friends, and to do his “work” so that he would not get caught were +absolutely the only articles in his creed. To get ahead of the rich, to take +from them that which was theirs if he could, regardless of life or +consequences, that was virtue; the rich were enemies, and his daring code of +honor gave them the credit of equal courage with himself. They must outwit him +or lose. If they died it was “all in the day’s work” and +their loss. When his turn came he would take his medicine calmly. But the +trouble with Buck now was that he had “bungled the job.” It was a +disgrace on his profession. Things had been going against him lately, and he +was “down on his luck.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael went back from the West feeling that the brief time allowed him with +Buck was all too short for what he wanted to do for him; yet he felt that it +had been worth the journey. Buck appreciated his sympathy, if he did not have +an adequate sense of his own sinfulness. Michael had talked and pitied and +tried to make Buck see, but Buck saw not, and Michael went home to hope and +write and try to educate Buck through sheer love. It was all he saw to do. +</p> + +<p> +It was about this time that Michael began to receive money in small sums, +anonymously, through the mail. “For your work” the first was +labelled and the remittances that followed had no inscriptions. They were not +always addressed in the same hand, and never did he know the writing. Sometimes +there would be a ten-dollar bill, sometimes a twenty, and often more, and they +came irregularly, enclosed in a thin, inner envelope of foreign looking paper. +Michael wondered sometimes if Starr could have sent them, but that was +impossible of course, for she knew nothing of his work, and they were always +postmarked New York. He discovered that such thin foreign-looking envelopes +could be had in New York, and after that he abandoned all idea of trying to +solve the mystery. It was probably some queer, kind person who did not wish to +be known. He accepted the help gladly and broadened his plans for the farm +accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +Sam and his five friends had gone down early in the spring, bunking in the old +house, and enjoying the outing immensely. Under Sam’s captaincy, and the +tutelage of an old farmer whom Michael had found, who could not work much +himself but could direct, the work had gone forward; Michael himself coming +down Saturdays, and such of the tail ends of the afternoons as he could get. It +is true that many mistakes were made through ignorance, and more through +stupidity. It is true that no less than five times the whole gang went on a +strike until Michael should return to settle some dispute between the new +scientific farming that he had taught them, and some old superstition, or +clumsy practice of the farmer’s. But on the whole they did tolerably good +work. +</p> + +<p> +The farm colony had been meantime increasing. Michael picked them up in the +alley; they came to him and asked to be taken on for a trial. They had heard of +the experiment through Sam, or one of the other boys who had come back to the +city for a day on some errand for the farm. +</p> + +<p> +One glorious summer morning Michael took ten small eager newsboys down to pick +wild strawberries for the day, and they came back dirty, tired, strawberry +streaked, and happy, and loudly sang the praises of Old Orchard as though it +had been a Heaven. After that Michael had no trouble in transplanting any one +he wished to take with him. +</p> + +<p> +He found a poor wretch who had lately moved with his family to one of the +crowded tenements in the alley. He was sodden in drink and going to pieces +fast. Michael sobered him down, found that he used to be a master carpenter, +and forthwith transplanted him to Old Orchard, family and all. +</p> + +<p> +Under the hand of the skilled carpenter there sprang up immediately a colony of +tents and later small one-roomed shacks or bungalows. Michael bought lumber and +found apprentices to help, and the carpenter of the colony repaired barns and +outhouses, fences, or built shacks, whenever the head of affairs saw fit to +need another. +</p> + +<p> +The only person in the whole alley whom Michael had invited in vain to the farm +was old Sally. She had steadily refused to leave her gaily papered room, her +curtained window and her geranium. It was a symbol of “ould +Ireland” to her, and she felt afraid of this new place of +Michael’s. It seemed to her superstitious fancy like an immediate door to +a Heaven, from which she felt herself barred by her life. It assumed a kind of +terror to her thoughts. She was not ready to leave her little bit of life and +take chances even for Michael. And so old Sal sat on her doorstep and watched +the alley dwellers come and go, listening with interest to each new account of +the farm, but never willing to see for herself. Perhaps the secret of her +hesitation after all went deeper than superstition. She had received private +information that Old Orchard had no Rum Shop around the corner. Old Sally could +not run any risks, so she stayed at home. +</p> + +<p> +But the carpenter’s wife was glad to cook for the men when the busy days +of planting and weeding and harvesting came, and the colony grew and grew. Two +or three other men came down with their families, and helped the carpenter to +build them little houses, with a bit of garden back, and a bed of flowers in +front. They could see the distant sea from their tiny porches, and the river +wound its salty silver way on the other hand. It was a great change from the +alley. Not all could stand it, but most of them bore the summer test well. It +would be when winter set its white distance upon them, chilled the flowers to +slumber, and stopped the labor that the testing time would come; and Michael +was thinking about that. +</p> + +<p> +He began hunting out helpers for his purposes. +</p> + +<p> +He found a man skilled in agricultural arts and secured his services to hold a +regular school of agriculture during the winter for the men. He found a poor +student at Princeton who could run up on the train daily and give simple +lessons in reading and arithmetic. He impressed it upon Sam and the other young +men that unless they could read for themselves enough to keep up with the new +discoveries in the science other farmers would get ahead of them and grow +bigger potatoes and sweeter ears of corn than they did. He kept up a continual +sunny stream of eager converse with them about what they were going to do, and +how the place was going to grow, until they felt as if they owned the earth and +meant to show the world how well they were running it. In short, he simply +poured his own spirit of enthusiasm into them, and made the whole hard summer +of unaccustomed labor one great game; and when the proceeds from their first +simple crops came in from the sale of such products as they did not need for +their own use in the colony, Michael carefully divided it among his various +workmen and at his wish they went in a body and each started a bank account at +the little National Bank of the town. It was a very little of course, absurdly +little, but it made the workers feel like millionaires, and word of the +successes went back to the city, and more and more the people were willing to +come down, until by fall there were thirty-eight men, women and children, all +told, living on the farm. +</p> + +<p> +Of course that made little appreciable difference in the population of the +alley, for as soon as one family moved out another was ready to move in, and +there was plenty of room for Michael’s work to go on. Nevertheless, there +were thirty-eight souls on the way to a better knowledge of life, with clean +and wholesome surroundings and a chance to learn how to read and how to work. +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter was set to get ready more tiny houses for the next summer’s +campaign, the tents were folded away, the spring wheat was all in; the fall +plowing and fertilizing completed and whatever else ought to be done to a farm +for its winter sleep; half a dozen cows were introduced into the settlement and +a roomy chicken house and run prepared. Sam set about studying incubators, and +teaching his helpers. Then when the cranberries were picked the colony settled +down to its study. +</p> + +<p> +The Princeton student and the agricultural student grew deeply interested in +their motley school, and finally produced a young woman who came down every +afternoon for a consideration, and taught a kindergarten, to which many of the +prematurely grown-up mothers came also with great delight and profit, and +incidentally learned how to be better, cleaner, wiser mothers. The young woman +of her own accord added a cooking school for the women and girls. +</p> + +<p> +Once a week Michael brought down some one from New York to amuse these poor +childish people. And so the winter passed. +</p> + +<p> +Once a wealthy friend of Mr. Holt asked to be taken down to see the place, and +after going the rounds of the farm and making himself quite friendly roasting +chestnuts around the great open fire in the “big house,” as the +original cottage was called, returned to New York with many congratulations for +Michael. A few days afterward he mailed to Michael the deed of the adjoining +farm of one hundred acres, and Michael, radiant, wondering, began to know that +his dreams for his poor downtrodden people were coming true. There would be +room enough now for many a year to come for the people he needed to bring down. +</p> + +<p> +Of course this had not all been done without discouragements. Some of the most +hopeful of the colonists had proved unmanageable, or unwilling to work; some +had run away, or smuggled in some whiskey. There had been two or three +incipient rows, and more than double that number of disappointing enterprises, +but yet, the work was going on. +</p> + +<p> +And still, there came no word from Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was holding well with his employers, and they were beginning to talk to +him of a partnership with them when he was done, for he had far outstripped +French in his studies, and seemed to master everything he touched with an +eagerness that showed great intellectual appetite. +</p> + +<p> +He still kept up his work in the little white room in the alley, evenings, +though he divided his labors somewhat with Will French, Miss Semple and others +who had heard of the work and had gradually offered their services. It had +almost become a little settlement or mission in itself. The one room had become +two and a bath; then the whole first floor with a small gymnasium. French was +the enthusiastic leader in this, and Hester Semple had done many things for the +little children and women. The next set of colonists for Michael’s farm +were always being got ready and were spoken of as “eligibles” by +the workers. +</p> + +<p> +Hester Semple had proved to be a most valuable assistant, ever ready with +suggestions, tireless and as enthusiastic as Michael himself. Night after night +the three toiled, and came home happily together. The association with the two +was very sweet to Michael, whose heart was famished for friends and relations +who “belonged,” But it never occurred to Michael to look on Miss +Semple in any other light than friend and fellow worker. +</p> + +<p> +Will French and Michael were coming home from the office one afternoon +together, and talking eagerly of the progress at the farm. +</p> + +<p> +“When you get married, Endicott,” said Will, “you must build +a handsome bungalow or something for your summer home, down there on that knoll +just overlooking the river where you can see the sea in the distance.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael grew sober at once. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t expect ever to be married, Will,” he said after a +pause, with one of his far-away looks, and his chin up, showing that what he +had said was an indisputable fact. +</p> + +<p> +“The Dickens!” said Will stopping in his walk and holding up +Michael. “She hasn’t refused you, has she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Refused me? Who? What do you mean?” asked Michael looking puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Hester—Miss Semple. She hasn’t turned you down, old +chap?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Semple! Why, Will, you never thought—you don’t think +she ever thought—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I didn’t know,” said Will embarrassedly, “it +looked pretty much like it sometimes. There didn’t seem much show for me. +I’ve thought lately you had it all settled and were engaged sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Will,” said Michael in that tone that showed his soul was +moved to its depth. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, old chap!” said Will, “I’m fiercely sorry +I’ve butted in to your affairs. I never dreamed you’d feel like +this. But seeing I have, would you mind telling me if you’ll give me a +good send off with Hester? Sort of ‘bless-you-my-son,’ you know; +and tell me you don’t mind if I go ahead and try my luck.” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart, Will. I never thought of it, but I believe it would +be great for you both. You seem sort of made for each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s awfully good of you to say so,” said Will, “but +I’m afraid Hester doesn’t think so. She’s all taken up with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all!” said Michael eagerly. “Not in the least. +I’ve never noticed it. I’m sure she likes you best.” +</p> + +<p> +And it was so from that night that Michael almost always had some excuse for +staying later at the room, or for going somewhere else for a little while so +that he would have to leave them half way home; and Hester and Will from that +time forth walked together more and more. Thus Michael took his lonely way, cut +off from even this friendly group. +</p> + +<p> +And the summer and the winter made the second year of the colony at Old +Orchard. +</p> + +<p> +Then, the following spring Starr Endicott and her mother came home and things +began to happen. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap19"></a>Chapter XIX</h3> + +<p> +Starr was eighteen when she returned, and very beautiful. Society was made at +once aware of her presence. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, whose heart was ever on the alert to know of her, and to find out +where Mr. Endicott was, saw the first notice in the paper. +</p> + +<p> +Three times had Endicott crossed the water to visit his wife and daughter +during their stay abroad, and every time Michael had known and anxiously +awaited some sign of his return. He had read the society columns now for two +years solely for the purpose of seeing whether anything would be said about the +Endicott family, and he was growing wondrously wise in the ways of the society +world. +</p> + +<p> +Also, he had come to know society a little in another way. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after his last interview with Endicott Miss Emily Holt, daughter of the +senior member of the firm of Holt and Holt, had invited Michael to dine with +her father and herself; and following this had come an invitation to a house +party at the Holts’ country seat. This came in the busy season of the +farm work; but Michael, anxious to please his employers, took a couple of days +off and went. And he certainly enjoyed the good times to the full. He had +opportunity to renew his tennis in which he had been a master hand, and to row +and ride, in both of which he excelled. Also, he met a number of pleasant +people who accepted him for the splendid fellow he looked to be and asked not +who he was. Men of his looks and bearing came not in their way every day and +Michael was good company wherever he went. +</p> + +<p> +However, when it came to the evenings, Michael was at a loss. He could not +dance nor talk small talk. He was too intensely in earnest for society’s +ways, and they did not understand. He could talk about the books he had read, +and the things he had thought, but they were great thoughts and not at all good +form for a frivolous company to dwell upon. One did not want a problem in +economics or a deep philosophical question thrust upon one at a dance. Michael +became a delightful but difficult proposition for the girls present, each one +undertaking to teach him how to talk in society, but each in turn making a +miserable failure. At last Emily Holt herself set out to give him gentle hints +on light conversation and found herself deep in a discussion of +Wordsworth’s poems about which she knew absolutely nothing, and in which +Michael’s weary soul had been steeping itself lately. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Holt retired in laughing defeat, at last, and advised her protégé to take +a course of modern novels. Michael, always serious, took her at her word, and +with grave earnestness proceeded to do so; but his course ended after two or +three weeks. He found them far from his taste, the most of them too vividly +portraying the sins of his alley in a setting of high life. Michael had enough +of that sort of thing in real life, and felt he could not stand the strain of +modern fiction, so turned back to his Wordsworth again and found soothing and +mental stimulus. +</p> + +<p> +But there followed other invitations, some of which he accepted and some of +which he declined. Still, the handsome, independent young Adonis was in great +demand in spite of his peculiar habit of always being in earnest about +everything. Perhaps they liked him and ran after him but the more because of +his inaccessibility, and the fact that he was really doing something in the +world. For it began to be whispered about among those who knew—and +perhaps Emily Holt was the originator—that Michael was going to be +something brilliant in the world of worth-while-things one of these days. +</p> + +<p> +The tickets that Endicott promised him had arrived in due time, and anxious to +please his benefactor, even in his alienation, Michael faithfully attended +concerts and lectures, and enjoyed them to the full, borrowing from his hours +of sleep to make up what he had thus spent, rather than from his work or his +study. And thus he grew in knowledge of the arts, and in love of all things +great, whether music, or pictures, or great minds. +</p> + +<p> +Matters stood thus when Starr appeared on the scene. +</p> + +<p> +The young girl made her début that winter, and the papers were full of her +pictures and the entertainments given in her honor. She was dined and danced +and recepted day after day and night after night, and no débutante had ever +received higher praise of the critics for beauty, grace, and charm of manner. +</p> + +<p> +Michael read them all, carefully cut out and preserved a few pleasant things +that were written about her, looked at the pictures, and turned from the pomp +and pride of her triumph to the little snapshot of herself on horseback in the +Park with her groom, which she had sent to him when she was a little girl. That +was his, and his alone, but these others belonged to the world, the world in +which he had no part. +</p> + +<p> +For from all this gaiety of society Michael now held aloof. Invitations he +received, not a few, for he was growing more popular every day, but he declined +them all. A fine sense of honor kept him from going anywhere that Starr was +sure to be. He had a right, of course, and it would have been pleasant in a way +to have her see that he was welcome in her world; but always there was before +his mental vision the memory of her mother’s biting words as she put him +down from the glorified presence of her world, into an existence of shame and +sin and sorrow. He felt that Starr was so far above him that he must not hurt +her by coming too near. And so, in deference to the vow that he had taken when +the knowledge of his unworthiness had first been presented to him, he stayed +away. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, as she heard more and more of his conquests in her world, wondered and +was piqued that he came not near her. And one day meeting him by chance on +Fifth Avenue, she greeted him graciously and invited him to call. +</p> + +<p> +Michael thanked her with his quiet manner, while his heart was in a tumult over +her beauty, and her dimpled smiles that blossomed out in the old childish ways, +only still more beautifully, it seemed to him. He went in the strength of that +smile many days: but he did not go to call upon her. +</p> + +<p> +The days passed into weeks and months, and still he did not appear, and Starr, +hearing more of his growing inaccessibility, determined to show the others that +she could draw him out of his shell. She humbled her Endicott pride and wrote +him a charming little note asking him to call on one of the +“afternoons” when she and her mother held court. But Michael, +though he treasured the note, wrote a graceful, but decided refusal. +</p> + +<p> +This angered the young woman, exceedingly, and she decided to cut him out of +her good graces entirely. And indeed the whirl of gaiety in which she was +involved scarcely gave her time for remembering old friends. In occasional odd +moments when she thought of him at all, it was with a vague kind of +disappointment, that he too, with all the other things of her childhood, had +turned out to be not what she had thought. +</p> + +<p> +But she met him face to face one bright Sunday afternoon as she walked on the +avenue with one of the many courtiers who eagerly attended her every step. He +was a slender, handsome young fellow, with dark eyes and hair and reckless +mouth. There were jaded lines already around his youthful eyes and lips. His +name was Stuyvesant Carter. Michael recognized him at once. His picture had +been in the papers but the week before as leader with Starr of the cotillion. +His presence with her in the bright sunny afternoon was to Michael like a great +cloud of trouble looming out of a perfect day. He looked and looked again, his +expressive eyes searching the man before him to the depths, and then going to +the other face, beautiful, innocent, happy. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was walking with Hester Semple. +</p> + +<p> +Now Hester, in her broadcloth tailored suit, and big black hat with plumes, was +a pretty sight, and she looked quite distinguished walking beside Michael, +whose garments seemed somehow always to set him off as if they had been +especially designed for him; and after whom many eyes were turned as he passed +by. +</p> + +<p> +Had it been but the moment later, or even three minutes before, Will French +would have been with them and Michael would have been obviously a third member +of the party, for he was most careful in these days to let them both know that +he considered they belonged together. But Will had stopped a moment to speak to +a business acquaintance, and Hester and Michael were walking slowly ahead until +he should rejoin them. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” said Hester excitedly. “Isn’t that the pretty +Miss Endicott whose picture is in the papers so much? I’m sure it must +be, though she’s ten times prettier than any of her pictures.” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael needed not his attention called. He was already looking with all +his soul in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +As they came opposite he lifted his hat with, such marked, deference to Starr +that young Stuyvesant Carter turned and looked at him insolently, with a +careless motion of his own hand toward his hat. But Starr, with brilliant +cheeks, and eyes that looked straight at Michael, continued her conversation +with her companion and never so much as by the flicker of an eyelash recognized +her former friend. +</p> + +<p> +It was but an instant in the passing, and Hester was so taken up with looking +at the beauty of the idol of society that she never noticed Michael’s +lifted hat until they were passed. Then Will French joined them breezily. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee whiz, but she’s a peach, isn’t she?” he breathed +as he took his place beside Hester, and Michael dropped behind, “but I +suppose it’ll all rub off. They say most of those swells aren’t +real.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think she’s real!” declared Hester. “Her eyes are +sweet and her smile is charming. The color on her cheeks wasn’t put on +like paint. I just love her. I believe I’d like to know her. She +certainly is beautiful, and she doesn’t look a bit spoiled. Did you ever +see such eyes?” +</p> + +<p> +“They aren’t half as nice as a pair of gray ones I know,” +said Will looking meaningfully at them as they were lifted smiling to his. +</p> + +<p> +“Will, you mustn’t say such things—on the +street—anyway—and Michael just behind—Why, where is Michael? +See! He has dropped away behind and is walking slowly. Will, does Michael know +Miss Endicott? I never thought before about their names being the same. But he +lifted his hat to her—and she simply stared blankly at him as if she had +never seen him before.” +</p> + +<p> +“The little snob!” said Will indignantly. “I told you they +were all artificial. I believe they are some kind of relation or other. Come to +think of it I believe old Endicott introduced Michael into our office. Maybe +she hasn’t seen him in a long time and has forgotten him.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one who had once known Michael could ever forget him,” said +Hester with conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I suppose that’s so,” sighed Will, looking at her a +trifle wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +After the incident of this meeting Michael kept more and more aloof from even +small entrances into society; and more and more he gave his time to study and +to work among the poor. +</p> + +<p> +So the winter passed in a round of gaieties, transplanted for a few weeks to +Palm Beach, then back again to New York, then to Tuxedo for the summer, and +Michael knew of it all, yet had no part any more in it, for now she had cut him +out of her life herself, and he might not even cherish her bright smiles and +words of the past. She did not wish to know him. It was right, it was just; it +was best; but it was agony! +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s fresh color grew white that year, and he looked more like the +man-angel than ever as he came and went in the alley; old Sally from her +doorstep, drawing nearer and nearer to her own end, saw it first, and called +daily attention to the spirit-look of Michael as he passed. +</p> + +<p> +One evening early in spring, Michael was starting home weary and unusually +discouraged. Sam had gone down to the farm with Jim to get ready for the spring +work, and find out just how things were going and what was needed from the +city. Jim was developing into a tolerably dependable fellow save for his hot +temper, and Michael missed them from, the alley work, for the rooms were +crowded now every night. True Hester and Will were faithful, but they were so +much taken up with one another in these days that he did not like to trouble +them with unusual cases, and he had no one with whom to counsel. Several things +had been going awry and he was sad. +</p> + +<p> +Hester and Will were ahead walking slowly as usual. Michael locked the door +with a sigh and turned to follow them, when he saw in the heavy shadows on the +other side of the court two figures steal from one of the openings between the +houses and move along toward the end of the alley. Something in their demeanor +made Michael watch them instinctively. As they neared the end of the alley +toward the street they paused a moment and one of the figures stole back +lingeringly. He thought he recognized her as a girl cursed with more than the +usual amount of beauty. She disappeared into the darkness of the tenement, but +the other after looking back a moment kept on toward the street. Michael +quickened his steps and came to the corner at about the same time, crossing +over as the other man passed the light and looking full in his face. +</p> + +<p> +To his surprise he saw that the man was Stuyvesant Carter! +</p> + +<p> +With an exclamation of disgust and horror Michael stepped full in the pathway +of the man and blocked, his further passage. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here?” He asked in tones that would have made a +brave man tremble. +</p> + +<p> +Stuyvesant Carter glared at the vision that had suddenly stopped his way, drew +his hat down over his evil eyes and snarled: “Get out of my way or +you’ll be sorry! I’m probably doing the same thing that +you’re doing here!” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably not!” said Michael with meaning tone. “You know you +can mean no good to a girl like that one you were just with. Come down here +again at your peril! And if I hear of you’re having anything to do with +that girl I’ll take means to have the whole thing made public.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said young Carter insolently. “Is she your girl? I +think not! And who are you anyway?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll find out if you come down here again!” said Michael +his fingers fairly aching to grip the gentlemanly villain before him. +“Now get out of here at once or you may not be able to walk out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get out when I like!” sneered the other, nevertheless +backing rapidly away through the opening given him. When he had reached a safe +distance, he added, tantalizingly: “And I’ll come back when I like, +too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, I shall be ready for you, Mr. Carter!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s tones were clear and distinct and could be heard two blocks +away in the comparative stillness of the city night. At sound of his real name +spoken fearlessly in such environment, the leader of society slid away into the +night as if he had suddenly been erased from the perspective; nor did sound of +footsteps linger from his going. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was dat guy?” +</p> + +<p> +It was a small voice that spoke at Michael’s elbow. Hester and Will were +far down the street in the other direction and had forgotten Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Michael turned and saw one of his smallest “kids” crouching in the +shadow beside him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Tony, are you here yet? You ought to have been asleep long +ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was dat de ike wot comes to see Lizzie?” +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Tony, what do you know about this?” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Tony proceeded, to unfold a tale that made Michael’s heart +sick. “Lizzie, she’s got swell sence she went away to work to a +res’trant at de sheeshole. She ain’t leavin’ her ma hev her +wages, an’ she wears fierce does, like de swells!” finished Tony +solemnly as if these things were the worst of all that he had told. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael sent Tony to his rest and went home with a heavy heart, to wake and +think through the night long what he should do to save Starr, his bright +beautiful Starr, from the clutches of this human vampire. +</p> + +<p> +When morning dawned Michael knew what he was going to do. He had decided to go +to Mr. Endicott and tell him the whole story. Starr’s father could and +would protect her better than he could. +</p> + +<p> +As early as he could get away from the office he hurried to carry out his +purpose, but on arriving at Mr. Endicott’s office he was told that the +gentleman had sailed for Austria and would be absent some weeks, even months, +perhaps, if his business did not mature as rapidly as he hoped. Michael asked +for the address, but when he reached his desk again and tried to frame a letter +that would convey the truth convincingly to the absent father, who could not +read it for more than a week at least, and would then be thousands of miles +away from the scene of action, he gave it up as useless. Something more +effectual must be done and done quickly. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place he must have facts. He could not do anything until he knew +beyond a shadow of doubt that what he feared was true absolutely. If he could +have told Mr. Endicott all would have been different; he was a man and could do +his own investigating if he saw fit. Michael might have left the matter in his +hands. But he could not tell him. +</p> + +<p> +If there was some other male member of the family to whom he could go with the +warning, he must be very sure of his ground before he spoke. If there were no +such man friend or relative of the family he must do something else—what? +He shrank from thinking. +</p> + +<p> +And so with the sources open to a keen lawyer, he went to work to ferret out +the life and doings of Stuyvesant Carter; and it is needless to say that he +unearthed a lot of information that was so sickening in its nature that he felt +almost helpless before it. It was appalling—and the more so because of +the rank and station of the man. If he had been brought up in the slums one +might have expected—but this! +</p> + +<p> +The second day, Michael, haggard and worn with the responsibility, started out +to find that useful male relative of the Endicott family. There seemed to be no +such person. The third morning he came to the office determined to tell the +whole story to Mr. Holt, senior, and ask his advice and aid in protecting +Starr; but to his dismay he found that Mr. Holt, senior, had been taken +seriously ill with heart trouble, and it might be weeks before he was able to +return to the office. +</p> + +<p> +Deeply grieved and utterly baffled, the young man tried to think what to do +next. The junior Mr. Holt had never encouraged confidences, and would not be +likely to help in this matter. He must do something himself. +</p> + +<p> +And now Michael faced two alternatives. +</p> + +<p> +There were only two people to whom the story could be told, and they were Starr +herself, and her mother! +</p> + +<p> +Tell Starr all he knew he could not. To tell her anything of this story would +be gall and wormwood! To have to drop a hint that would blacken another +man’s character would place him in a most awkward position. To think of +doing it was like tearing out his heart for her to trample upon. +</p> + +<p> +Yet on the other hand Michael would far rather go into battle and face a +thousand bristling cannon mouths than meet the mother on her own ground and +tell her what he had to tell, while her steel-cold eyes looked him through and +through or burned him with scorn and unbelief. He had an instinctive feeling +that he should fail if he went to her. +</p> + +<p> +At last he wrote a note to Starr: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Miss Endicott:<br> + Can you let me have a brief interview at your convenience and just as soon +as possible? I have a favor to ask of you which I most earnestly hope you will +be willing to grant. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Sincerely yours,<br> +Michael. +</p> + +<p> +He sent the note off with fear and trembling. Every word had been carefully +considered and yet it haunted him continually that he might have written +differently. Would she grant the interview? If she did not what then should he +do? +</p> + +<p> +The next day he received a ceremonious little note on creamy paper crested with +a silver star monogramed in blue: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Miss Endicott will receive Mr. Endicott tomorrow morning at eleven. +</p> + +<p> +A shiver ran through him as he read, and consigned the elegant communication to +his waste-basket. It was not from his Starr. It was from a stranger. And yet, +the subtle perfume that stole forth from the envelope reminded him of her. On +second thought he drew it forth again and put it in his pocket. After all she +had granted the interview, and this bit of paper was a part of her daily life; +it had come from her, she had written it, and sent it to him. It was therefore +precious. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had been more than usually thoughtful when she read Michael’s note. +It pleased her that at last she had brought him to her feet, though not for the +world would she let him know it. Doubtless he wished her influence for some +position or other that he would have asked her father instead if he had been at +home. Starr knew nothing of the alienation between her father and Michael. But +Michael should pay for his request, in humility at least. Therefore she sent +her cool little stab of ceremony to call him to her. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael did not look in the least humiliated as he entered the luxurious +library where Starr had chosen to receive him. His manner was grave and +assured, and he made no sign of the tumult it gave him to see her thus in her +own home once more where all her womanliness and charm were but enhanced by the +luxury about her. +</p> + +<p> +He came forward to greet her just as if she had not cut him dead the very last +time they met; and Starr as she regarded him was struck with wonder over the +exalted beauty of manhood that was his unique dower. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for letting me come,” he said simply. “I will not +intrude long upon your time—” +</p> + +<p> +Starr had a strange sensation of fear lest he was going to slip away from her +again before she was willing. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that is all right,” she said graciously; “won’t +you sit down. I am always glad to do a favor for a friend of my +childhood.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a sentence she had rehearsed many times in her mind, and it was meant to +convey reproach and indifference in the extreme, but somehow as she fluttered +into a great leather chair she felt that her voice was trembling and she had +miserably failed in what she had meant to do. She felt strangely ashamed of her +attitude, with those two dear soulful eyes looking straight at her. It reminded +her of the way he had looked when he told her in the Florida chapel long ago +that nobody but herself had ever kissed him—and she had kissed him then. +Suppose he should be going to ask her to do it again! The thought made her +cheeks rosy, and her society air deserted her entirely. But of course he would +not do that. It was a crazy thought. What was the matter with her anyway, and +why did she feel so unnerved? Then Michael spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask if you know a man by the name of Stuyvesant Carter?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr looked startled, and then stiffened slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I do!” she answered graciously. “He is one of my intimate +friends. Is there anything he can do for you that you would like my +intercession?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr smiled graciously. She thought she understood the reason for +Michael’s call now, and she was pleased to think how easily she could +grant his request. The idea of introducing the two was stimulating. She was +pondering what a handsome pair of men they were, and so different from each +other. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael’s clear voice startled her again out of her complacence. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank God there is not!” he said, and his tone had that in it that +made Starr sit up and put on all her dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” she said with asperity, her eyes flashing. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Miss Endicott,” Michael said sadly. “You do not +understand my feeling, of course!” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly do not.” All Starr’s icicle sentences were +inherited from her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“And I cannot well explain,” he went on sadly. “I must ask +you to take it on trust. The favor I have come to ask is this, that you will +not have anything further to do with that young man until your father’s +return. I know this may seem very strange to you, but believe me if you +understood you would not hesitate to do what I have asked.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael held her with his look and with his earnest tones. For a moment she +could not speak from sheer astonishment at his audacity. Then she froze him +with a look copied from her mother’s haughty manner. +</p> + +<p> +“And what reason can you possibly give for such an extraordinary +request?” she asked at last, when his look compelled an answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot give you a reason,” he said gravely. “You must +trust me that this is best. Your father will explain to you when he +comes.” +</p> + +<p> +Another pause and then Starr haughtily asked: +</p> + +<p> +“And you really think that I would grant such a ridiculous request which +in itself implies a lack of trust in the character of one of my warmest +friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“I most earnestly hope that you will,” answered Michael. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of her hauteur she could not but be impressed by Michael’s +manner. His grave tones and serious eyes told hear heart that here was +something out of the ordinary, at least she gave Michael credit for thinking +there was. +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly shall not do anything of the kind without a good reason for +it.” Starr’s tone was determined and cold. +</p> + +<p> +“And I can give you no reason beyond telling you that he is not such a +man as a friend of yours should be.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Please do not ask me. Please trust me and give me your promise. At least +wait until I can write to your father.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr rose with a look of her father’s stubbornness now in her pretty +face. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to be told,” she demanded angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“You would not wish to be told if you knew,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +She stood looking at him steadily for a full moment, then with a graceful toss +of her lovely head, she said haughtily: +</p> + +<p> +“I must decline to accede to your request, Mr. Endicott. You will excuse +me, I have a luncheon engagement now.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood aside for him to go out the door, but as he rose with pleading still +in his eyes, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“You will write to your father and tell him what I have said? You will +wait until you hear from him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible, Mr. Endicott.” Starr’s tone was freezing +now, and he could see that she was very angry. “Mr. Carter is my +friend!” she flung at him as he passed her and went out into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Another night of anguish brought Michael face to face with the necessity for an +interview with Starr’s mother. +</p> + +<p> +Taking his cue from the hour Starr had set for his call, he went a little +before eleven o’clock and sent up the card of the firm with his own name +written below; for he had very serious doubts of obtaining an interview at all +if the lady thought he might be there on his own business. +</p> + +<p> +It is doubtful whether Mrs. Endicott recognized the former “Mikky” +under the title written below his most respectable law firm’s name. Any +representative of Holt and Holt was to be recognized of course. She came down +within a half hour, quite graciously with lorgnette in her hand, until she had +reached the centre of the reception room where he had been put to await her. +Then Michael arose, almost from the same spot where she had addressed him +nearly four years before, the halo of the morning shining through the high +window on his hair, and with a start and stiffening of her whole form she +recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it is <i>you</i>!” There was that in her tone that argued ill +for Michael’s mission, but with grave and gentle bearing he began: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon for the intrusion. I would not have come if +there had been any other way. I tried to find Mr. Endicott but was told he had +sailed—” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t waste your time, and mine. I shall do nothing for you. +As I told you before, if I remember, I think far too much already has been done +for you and I never felt that you had the slightest claim upon our bounty. I +must refuse to hear any hard luck stories.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face was a study. Indignation, shame and pity struggled with a +sudden sense of the ridiculousness of the situation. +</p> + +<p> +What he did was to laugh, a rich, clear, musical laugh that stopped the +lady’s tirade better than he could have done it in any other way. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Really! Have you come to insult me?” she said angrily. +“I will call a servant,” and she stepped curtly toward the bell. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon,” said Michael quickly, grave at once. +“I intended no insult and I have come to ask no favor of you. I came +because of a serious matter, perhaps a grave danger to your home, which I +thought you should be made acquainted with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! Well, make haste,” said Mrs. Endicott, half mollified. +“My time is valuable. Has some one been planning to rob the house?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked straight in her face and told her briefly a few facts, +delicately worded, forcefully put, which would have convinced the heart of any +true mother that the man before her had none but pure motives. +</p> + +<p> +Not so this mother. The more Michael talked the stiffer, haughtier, more +hateful, grew her stare; and when he paused, thinking not to utterly overwhelm +her with his facts, she remarked, superciliously: +</p> + +<p> +“How could you possibly know all these things, unless you had been in the +same places where you claim Mr. Carter has been? But, oh, of course I forgot! +Your former home was there, and so of course you must have many friends +among—ah—<i>those people</i>!” She drew her mental skirts +away from contaminating contact as she spoke the last two words, and punctuated +them with a contemptuous look through the lorgnette. +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear fellow,” she went on adopting the most outrageously +patronizing manner, “you should never trust those people. Of course you +don’t understand that, having been away from them so many years among +respectable folks, but they really do not know what the truth is. I doubt very +much whether there is a grain of foundation for all that you have been telling +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I have taken pains to look into the matter and I know that every +word which I have been telling you is true. Two of the most noted detectives of +the city have been making an investigation. I would not have ventured to come +if I had not had indisputable facts to give you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott arose still holding the lorgnette to her eyes, though she showed +that the interview was drawing to a close: +</p> + +<p> +“Then young man,” she said, “it will be necessary for me to +tell you that the things you have been saying are not considered proper to +speak of before ladies in respectable society. I remember of course your low +origin and lack of breeding and forgive what otherwise I should consider an +insult. Furthermore, let me tell you, that it is not considered honorable to +investigate a gentleman’s private life too closely. All young men sow +their wild oats of course, and are probably none the worse for it. In fact, if +a man has not seen life he really is not worth much. It is his own affair, and +no business of yours. I must ask you to refrain from saying anything of this +matter to anyone. Understand? Not a word of it! My husband would be deeply +outraged to know that a young friend of his daughter’s, a man of +refinement and position, had been the object of scandal by one who should honor +anyone whom he honors. I really cannot spare any more time this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“But madam! You certainly do not mean that you will not investigate this +matter for yourself? You would not let your daughter accept such a man as her +friend—?” +</p> + +<p> +The lorgnette came into play again but its stare was quite ineffectual upon +Michael’s white earnest face. His deep eyes lit with horror at this +monstrous woman who seemed devoid of mother-love. +</p> + +<p> +“The time has come for you to stop. It is none of your business what I +mean. You have done what you thought was your duty by telling me, now put the +matter entirely out of your mind. Desist at once!” +</p> + +<p> +With a final stare she swept out of the room and up the broad staircase and +Michael, watching her until she was out of sight, went out of the house with +bowed head and burdened heart. Went out to write a letter to Starr’s +father, a letter which would certainly have performed its mission as his other +efforts had failed; but which because of a sudden and unexpected change of +address just missed him at every stopping place, as it travelled its silent +unfruitful way about the world after him, never getting anywhere until too +late. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap20"></a>Chapter XX</h3> + +<p> +Starr was very angry with Michael when he left her. There was perhaps more hurt +pride and pique in her anger than she would have cared to own. He had failed to +succumb to her charms, he had not seemed to notice her as other men did; he had +even lost the look of admiration he used to wear when they were boy and girl. +He had refused utterly to tell her what she had a great curiosity to know. +</p> + +<p> +She had been sure, was sure yet, that if Michael would tell her what he had +against Stuyvesant Carter she could explain it satisfactorily. Her flattered +little head was almost turned at this time with the adoration she had received. +She thought she knew almost everything that Stuyvesant Carter had ever done. He +was a fluent talker and had spent many hours detailing to her incidents and +anecdotes of his eventful career. He had raced a good deal and still had +several expensive racing cars. There wasn’t anything very dreadful about +that except, of course, it was dangerous. He used to gamble a great deal but he +had promised her he would never do it any more because she thought it +unrefined. Of course it wasn’t as though he hadn’t plenty of money; +and her mother had told her that all young men did those things. No, not her +father of course, for he had been unusual, but times were different nowadays. +Young men were expected to be a little wild. It was the influence of college +life and a progressive age she supposed. It didn’t do any harm. They +always settled down and made good husbands after they were married. Michael of +course did not understand these things. He had spent a great many years in +Florida with a dear old professor and a lot of good little boys. Michael was +unacquainted with the ways of the world. +</p> + +<p> +Thus she reasoned, yet nevertheless Michael’s warning troubled her and +finally she decided to go to the best source of information and ask the young +man himself. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly three days after Michael’s visit when he dropped in to ask if +she would go to the opera that evening with him instead of something else they +had planned to do together, she laughingly questioned him. +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world can you ever have done, Mr. Carter, that should make +you unfit company for me?” +</p> + +<p> +She asked the question lightly yet her eyes watched his face most closely as +she waited for the answer. +</p> + +<p> +The blood rolled in dark waves over his handsome face and his brows grew dark +with anger which half hid the start of almost fear with which he regarded her. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean, Starr?” He looked at her keenly and could not +tell if she were in earnest or not. +</p> + +<p> +“Just that,” she mocked half gravely. “Tell me what you have +been doing that should make you unfit company for me? Some one has been trying +to make me promise to have nothing to do with you, and I want to know what it +means.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who has been doing that?” There were dangerous lights in the dark +eyes, lights that showed the brutality of the coward and the evildoer. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a man!” said Starr provokingly; “but if you look like +that I shan’t tell you anything more about it, I don’t like you +now. You look as if you could eat me. You make me think there must be something +in it all.” +</p> + +<p> +Quick to take the warning the young man brought his face under control and +broke into a hoarse artificial laugh. A sudden vision of understanding had come +to him and a fear was in his heart. There was nothing like being bold and +taking the bull by the horns. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll wager I can explain the riddle for you,” he said +airily. “I lost my way the other evening coming home late. You see there +had been some mistake and my car didn’t come to the club for me. I +started on foot, leaving word for it to overtake me—” He lied as he +went along. He had had a short lifetime of practice and did it quite naturally +and easily, “and I was thinking about you and how soon I dared ask you a +certain question, when all at once I noticed that things seemed sort of +unfamiliar. I turned to go back but couldn’t for the life of me tell +which way I had turned at the last corner—you see what a dangerous +influence you have over me—and I wandered on and on, getting deeper and +deeper into things. It wasn’t exactly a savory neighborhood and I wanted +to get out as soon as possible for I suspected that it wasn’t even very +safe down there alone at that hour of the night. I was hesitating under a +street light close to a dark alley, trying to decide which would be the +quickest way out, and meditating what I should do to find a policeman, when +suddenly there loomed up beside me in the dark out of the depths of the alley a +great tall brute of a fellow with the strangest looking yellow hair and a body +that looked as if he could play football with the universe if he liked, and +charged me with having come down there to visit his girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of course the situation wasn’t very pleasant. I tried to +explain that I was lost; that I had never been down in that quarter of the city +before and didn’t even know his girl. But he would listen to nothing. He +began to threaten me. Then I took out my card and handed it to him, most +unwisely of course, but then I am wholly unused to such situations, and I +explained to him just who I was and that of course I wouldn’t want to +come to see <i>his</i> girl, even if I would be so mean, and all that. But do +you believe me, that fellow wouldn’t take a word of it. He threw the card +on the sidewalk, ground his heel into it, and used all sorts of evil language +that I can’t repeat, and finally after I thought he was going to put me +in the ditch and pummel me he let me go, shouting after me that if I ever came +near his girl again he would publish it in the newspapers. Then of course I +understood what a foolish thing I had done in giving him my card. But it was +too late. I told him as politely as I knew how that if he would show me the way +to get home I would never trouble him again, and he finally let me go.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s eyes were all this time quizzically searching his face. +“Was the man intoxicated?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I presume so, more or less. They all are down there, though he was +not of the slums himself I should say. He was rather well dressed, and probably +angry that I had discovered him in such haunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did this happen?” +</p> + +<p> +“About a week ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh I didn’t want to distress you, and besides, I’ve had my +mind too full of other things. Starr, darling, you must have seen all these +weeks how much I love you, and how I have only been waiting the proper +opportunity to ask you to be my wife—” +</p> + +<p> +Starr was in a measure prepared for this proposal. Her mother had instructed +her that the alliance was one wholly within the pale of wisdom; and her own +fancy was quite taken up with this handsome new admirer who flattered her +hourly and showered attentions upon her until she felt quite content with +herself the world and him. There was a spice of daring about Starr that liked +what she thought was the wildness and gaiety of young Carter, and she had quite +made up her mind to accept him. +</p> + +<p> +One week later the society papers announced the engagement, and the world of +gaiety was all in a flutter, over the many functions that were immediately set +agoing in their honor. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, at his desk in the busy office, read, and bowed his head in anguish. +Starr, his bright beautiful Starr, to be sacrificed to a beast like that! Would +that he might once more save her to life and happiness! +</p> + +<p> +For the next few days Michael went about in a state that almost bordered on the +frantic. His white face looked drawn, and his great eyes burned in their clear +setting like live coals. People turned to look after him on the street and +exclaimed: “Why, look at that man!” and yet he seemed more like an +avenging angel dropped down for some terrible errand than like a plain ordinary +man. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Holt noticed it and spoke to him about it. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to drop work and take a good vacation, Endicott,” he +said kindly. “You’re in bad shape. You’ll break down and be +ill. If I were in your place I’d cancel the rent of that office and not +try to start out for yourself until fall. It’ll pay you in the end. +You’re taking things too seriously.” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael smiled and shook his head. He was to open his own office the +following week. It was all ready, with its simple furnishings, in marked +contrast to the rooms that would have been his if he had acceded to his +benefactor’s request. But Michael had lost interest in office and work +alike, and the room seemed now to him only a refuge from the eyes of men where +he might hide with his great sorrow and try to study out some way to save +Starr. Surely, surely, her father would do something when he received his +letter! It was long past, time for an answer to have come. But then there was +the hope that he was already doing something, though he was unwilling to afford +Michael the satisfaction of knowing it. +</p> + +<p> +He gave much thought to a possible cablegram, that he might send, that would +tell the story to the father while telling nothing to the world, but abandoned +the idea again and again. +</p> + +<p> +Sam came up from the farm and saw Michael’s face and was worried. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, pard, wot yer bin doin’ t’yersef? Better come down +t’ th’ farm an’ git a bit o’ fresh air.” +</p> + +<p> +The only two people who did not notice the change in Michael’s appearance +were Hester and Will. They were too much engrossed in each other by this time +to notice even Michael. +</p> + +<p> +They had fallen into the habit of leaving the rooms in the alley earlier than +Michael and going home by themselves. +</p> + +<p> +They left him thus one night about three weeks after Starr’s engagement +had been announced. Michael stayed in the room for an hour after all the others +had gone. He was expecting Sam to return. Sam had been up from the farm several +times lately and this time without any apparent reason he had lingered in the +city. He had not been to the room that night save for ten minutes early in the +evening when he had mumbled something about a little business, and said he +would be back before Michael left. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat for a long time, his elbow on the table, his head in his hands, +trying to think. A way had occurred to him which might or might not do +something to prevent Starr from throwing away her happiness. The morning paper +had hinted that plans for a speedy wedding were on foot. It was rumored that +Miss Endicott was to be married as soon as her father reached home. Michael was +desperate. He feared that now the father would arrive too late for him to get +speech with him. He had begun to know that it was hard to convince people of +the evil of those they had chosen as friends. It would take time. +</p> + +<p> +There was a way. He might have the whole story published in the papers. A +public scandal would doubtless delay if not altogether put a stop to this +alliance; but a public scandal that touched Mr. Carter would now also touch and +bring into publicity the girl whose life was almost linked with his. Not until +the very last resort would Michael bring about that publicity. That such a move +on his part would beget him the eternal enmity of the entire Endicott family he +did not doubt, but that factor figured not at all in Michael’s +calculations. He was not working for himself in this affair. Nothing that ever +happened could make things right for him, he felt, and what was his life, or +good name even, beside Starr’s happiness? +</p> + +<p> +Wearily, at last, his problem unsolved, he got up and turned out the lights. As +he was locking the door his attention was arrested by two figures standing +between himself and the street light at the end of the alley. It was a man and +a woman, and the woman seemed to be clinging to the man and pleading with him. +</p> + +<p> +Such sights were not uncommon in the alley; some poor woman often thus appealed +to all that used to be good in the man she married, to make him stay away from +the saloon, or to give her a little of his money to buy food for the children. +</p> + +<p> +More than once in such instances Michael had been able successfully to add his +influence to the wife’s and get the man to go quietly home. +</p> + +<p> +He put the key hastily in his pocket and hurried toward the two. +</p> + +<p> +“You shan’t! You shan’t! You shan’t never go back to +her!” he heard the woman cry fiercely. “You promised +me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Shut up, will you? I don’t care what I promised—” said +the man in a guarded voice that Michael felt sure he had heard before. +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t shut up! I’ll holler ef you go, so the +police’ll come. You’ve got a right to stay with me. You +shan’t do me no wrong ner you shan’t go back to that stuck-up +piece. You’re mine, I say, and you promised—!” +</p> + +<p> +With a curse the man struck her a cruel blow across the mouth, and tried to +tear her clinging hands away from his coat, but they only clung the more +fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sprang to the woman’s side like a panther. +</p> + +<p> +“Look out!” he said in clear tones. “You can’t strike a +woman!” His voice was low and calm, and sounded as it used to sound on +the ball field when he was giving directions to his team at some crisis in the +game. +</p> + +<p> +“Who says I can’t?” snarled the man, and now Michael was sure +he knew the voice. Then the wretch struck the woman between her eyes and she +fell heavily to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Like a flash Michael’s great arm went out and felled the man, and in the +same breath, from the shadows behind there sprang out the slender, wiry figure +of Sam and flung itself upon the man on the ground who with angry imprecations +was trying to struggle to his feet. His hand had gone to an inner pocket, as he +fell and in a moment more there was a flash of light and Michael felt a bullet +whiz by his ear. Nothing but the swerving of the straggling figures had saved +it from going through his brain. It occurred to Michael in that instant that +that was what had been intended. The conviction that the man had also +recognized him gave strength to his arm as he wrenched the revolver from the +hand of the would-be assassin. Nobody knew better than Michael how easy it +would be to plead “self-defense” if the fellow got into any +trouble. A man in young Carter’s position with wealth and friends galore +need not fear to wipe an unknown fellow out of existence; a fellow whose +friends with few exceptions were toughs and jail birds and ex-criminals of all +sorts. +</p> + +<p> +It was just as he gave Carter’s wrist the twist that sent the revolver +clattering to the ground beside the unconscious woman that Michael heard the +hurried footsteps of the officer of the law accompanied by a curious motley +crowd who had heard the pistol shot and come to see what new excitement life +offered for their delectation. He suddenly realized how bad matters would look +for Sam if he should be found in the embrace of one of Society’s pets who +would all too surely have a tale to tell that would clear himself regardless of +others. Michael had no care for himself. The police all about that quarter knew +him well, and were acquainted with his work. They looked upon him with almost +more respect than they gave the priests and deaconesses who went about their +errands of mercy; for Michael’s spirit-look of being more than man, and +the stories that were attached to his name in the alley filled them with a +worshipful awe. There was little likelihood of trouble for Michael with any of +the officers he knew. But Sam was another proposition. His life had not all +been strictly virtuous in the past, and of late he had been away in New Jersey +so much that he was little known, and would be at once suspected of having been +the cause of the trouble. Besides, the woman lay unconscious at their feet! +</p> + +<p> +With a mighty effort Michael now reached forth and plucked Sam, struggling +fiercely, from the arms of his antagonist and put him behind him in the +doorway, standing firmly in front. Carter thus released, sprawled for an +instant in the road, then taking advantage of the momentary release struggled +to his feet and fled in the opposite direction from that in which the officers +were approaching. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go! I must get him!” muttered Sam pushing fiercely to get +by Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sam, stay where you are and keep quiet. You’ll gain nothing by +running after him. You’ll only get into trouble yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care!” said Sam frantically, “I don’t +care what happens to me. I’ll kill him. He stole my girl!” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael stood before him like a wail of adamant in the strength that was +his for the extremity. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sam, my poor fellow. I know,” said Michael gently, sadly. +“I know, Sam. He stole mine too!” +</p> + +<p> +Sam subsided as if he had been struck, a low awful curse upon his lips, his +face pale and baleful. +</p> + +<p> +“You, too?” The yearning tenderness went to Michael’s heart +like sweet salve, even in the stress of the moment. They were brothers in +sorrow, and their brotherhood saved Sam from committing a crime. +</p> + +<p> +Then the police and crowd swept up breathless. +</p> + +<p> +“What does all this mean?” panted a policeman touching his cap +respectfully to Michael. “Some one been shooting?” +</p> + +<p> +He stooped and peered into the white face of the still unconscious woman, and +then looked suspiciously toward Sam who was standing sullenly behind Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s all right,” smiled Michael throwing an arm across +Sam’s shoulder, “He only came in to help me when he saw I was +having a hard time of it. The fellow made off in that direction.” Michael +pointed after Carter whose form had disappeared in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“Any of the gang?” asked the officer as he hurried away. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” said Michael. “He doesn’t belong here!” +</p> + +<p> +One officer hurried away accompanied by a crowd, the other stayed to look after +the woman. He touched the woman with his foot as he might have tapped a dying +dog to see if there was still life there. A low growl like a fierce animal came +from Sam’s closed lips. +</p> + +<p> +Michael put a warning hand upon, his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Steady, Sam, steady!” he murmured, and went himself and lifted the +poor pretty head of the girl from its stony pillow. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you’d better send for the ambulance,” he said to the +officer. “She’s had a heavy blow on her head. I arrived just in +time to see the beginning of the trouble—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t she dead?” said the officer indifferently. “Best +get her into her house. Don’t reckon they want to mess up the hospital +with such cattle as this.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael caught the fierce gleam in Sam’s eyes. A second more would have +seen the officer lying beside the girl in the road and a double tragedy to the +record of that night; for Sam was crouched and moving stealthily like a cat +toward the officer’s back, a look of almost insane fury upon his small +thin face. It was Michael’s steady voice that recalled him to sanity once +more, just as many a time in the midst of a game he had put self-control and +courage into the hearts of his team. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, could you come here and hold her head a minute, while I try to get +some water? Yes, officer, I think she is living, and she should be got to the +hospital as soon as possible. Please give the call at once.” +</p> + +<p> +The officer sauntered off to do his bidding. Michael and Sam began working over +the unconscious girl, and the crowd stood idly round waiting until the +ambulance rattled up. They watched with awe as the form of the woman was lifted +in and Michael and Sam climbed up on the front seat with the driver and rode +away; then they drifted away to their several beds and the street settled into +its brief night respite. +</p> + +<p> +The two young men waited at the hospital for an hour until a white-capped nurse +came to tell them that Lizzie had recovered consciousness, and there was hope +of her life. Then they went out into the late night together. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, you’re coming home with me tonight!” Michael put his +arm affectionately around Sam’s shoulders, “You never would come +before, but you must come tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam, looking into the other’s face for an instant, saw that in +Michael’s suffering eyes that made him yield. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t fit!” Sam murmured as they walked along silently +together. It was the first hint that Sam had ever given that he was not every +whit as good as Michael; and Michael with rare tact had never by a glance let +Sam know how much he wished to have him cleaner, and more suitably garbed. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, we’ll make that all right!” said Michael fervently +thankful that at last the time had come for the presentation of the neat and +fitting garments which he had purchased some weeks before for a present for +Sam, and which had been waiting for a suitable opportunity of presentation. +</p> + +<p> +The dawn was hovering in the East when Michael led Sam up to his own room, and +throwing wide the door of his own little private bath-room told Sam to take a +hot bath, it would make him feel better. +</p> + +<p> +While Sam was thus engaged Michael made a compact bundle of Sam’s old +garments, and stealing softly to the back hall window, landed them by a neat +throw on the top of the ash barrel in the court below. Sam’s clothes +might see the alley again by way of the ash man, but never on Sam’s back. +</p> + +<p> +Quite late that very same morning, when Sam, clothed and in a new and righter +mind than ever before in his life, walked down with Michael to breakfast, and +was introduced as “my friend Mr. Casey” to the landlady, who was +hovering about the now deserted breakfast table; he looked every inch of him a +respectable citizen. Not handsome and distinguished like Michael, of course, +but quite unnoticeable, and altogether proper as a guest at the respectable +breakfast table of Mrs. Semple. +</p> + +<p> +Michael explained that they had been detained out late the night before by an +accident, and Mrs. Semple gave special orders for a nice breakfast to be served +to Mr. Endicott and his friend, and said it wasn’t any trouble at all. +</p> + +<p> +People always thought it was no trouble to do things for Michael. +</p> + +<p> +While they ate, Michael arranged with Sam to take a trip out to see Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“I was expecting to go this morning,” he said. “I had my +plans all made. They write me that Buck is getting uneasy and they wish +I’d come, but now”—he looked meaningly at Sam—“I +think I ought to stay here for a little. Could you go in my place? There are +things here I must attend to.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked, and his face grew dark with sympathy. He understood. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll keep you informed about Lizzie,” went on Michael with +delicate intuition, “and anyway you couldn’t see her for sometime, +I think if you try you could help Buck as much as I. He needs to understand +that breaking laws is all wrong. That it doesn’t pay in the end, and that +there has got to be a penalty—you know. You can make him see things in a +new way if you try. Are you willing to go, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go,” said Sam briefly, and Michael knew he would do his +best. It might be that Sam’s change of viewpoint would have more effect +upon Buck than anything Michael could say. For it was an open secret between +Sam and Michael now that Sam stood for a new order of things and that the old +life, so far as he was concerned, he had put away. +</p> + +<p> +And so Sam was got safely away from the danger spot, and Michael stayed to face +his sorrow, and the problem of how to save Starr. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap21"></a>Chapter XXI</h3> + +<p> +The papers the next morning announced that Mr. Stuyvesant Carter while taking a +short cut through the lower quarter of the city, had been cruelly attacked, +beaten and robbed, and had barely escaped with his life. +</p> + +<p> +He was lying in his rooms under the care of a trained nurse, and was recovering +as rapidly as could be expected from the shock. +</p> + +<p> +Michael reading it next morning after seeing Sam off to Kansas, lifted his head +with that quiet show of indignation. He knew that the message must have been +telephoned to the paper by Carter himself shortly after he had escaped from the +police. He saw just how easy it was for him to give out any report he chose. +Money and influence would buy even the public press. It would be little use to +try to refute anything he chose to tell about himself. +</p> + +<p> +The days that followed were to Michael one long blur of trouble. He haunted Mr. +Endicott’s office in hopes of getting some news of his return but they +told him the last letters had been very uncertain. He might come quickly, and +he might be delayed a month yet, or even longer; and a cablegram might not +reach him much sooner than a letter, as he was travelling from place to place. +</p> + +<p> +After three days of this agony, knowing that the enemy would soon be recovering +from his bruises and be about again, he reluctantly wrote a note to Starr: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +My dear Miss Endicott:<br> + At the risk of offending you I feel that I must make one more attempt to +save you from what I feel cannot but be great misery. The young man of whom we +were speaking has twice to my knowledge visited a young woman of the slums +within the last month, and has even since your engagement been maintaining an +intimacy with her which can be nothing but an insult to you. Though you may not +believe me, it gives me greater pain to tell you this than anything I ever had +to do before, I have tried in every way I know to communicate with your father, +but have thus far failed. I am writing you thus plainly and painfully, hoping +that though you will not take my word for it, you will at least be willing to +find some trustworthy intimate friend of your family in whom you can confide, +who will investigate this matter for you, and give you his candid opinion of +the young man. I can furnish such a man with information as to where to go to +get the facts. I know that what I have said is true. I beg for the sake of your +future happiness that you will take means to discover for yourself. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Faithfully yours,<br> +Michael +</p> + +<p> +To this note, within two days, he received a condescending, patronizing reply: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Michael:<br> + I am exceedingly sorry that you have lent yourself to means so low to +accomplish your end, whatever that may be. It is beyond me to imagine what +possible motive you can have for all this ridiculous calumny that you are +trying to cast on one who has shown a most noble spirit toward you.<br> + Mr. Carter has fully explained to me his presence at the home of that girl, +and because you seem to really believe what you have written me, and because I +do not like to have <i>anyone</i> think evil of the man whom I am soon to +marry, I am taking the trouble to explain to you. The young woman is a former +maid of Mr. Carter’s mother, and she is deeply attached to her. She does +up Mrs. Carter’s fine laces exquisitely, and Mr. Carter has twice been +the bearer of laces to be laundered, because his mother was afraid to trust +such valuable pieces to a servant. I hope you will now understand that the +terrible things you have tried to say against Mr. Carter are utterly false. +Such things are called blackmail and bring terrible consequences in court I am +told if they become known, so I must warn you never to do anything of this sort +again. It is dangerous. If my father were at home he would explain it to you. +Of course, having been in that out-of-the-way Florida place for so long you +don’t understand these things, but for papa’s sake I would not like +you to get into trouble in any way.<br> + There is one more thing I must say. Mr. Carter tells me that he saw you +down in that questionable neighborhood, and that you are yourself interested in +this girl. It seems strange when this is the case, that you should have thought +so ill of him.<br> + Trusting that you will cause me no further annoyance in this matter, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +S.D. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael had read this he bowed himself upon his desk as one who had been +stricken unto death. To read such words from her whom he loved better than his +own soul was terrible! And he might never let her know that these things that +had been said of him were false. She would probably go always with the idea +that his presence in that alley was a matter of shame to him. So far as his +personal part in the danger to herself was concerned, he was from this time +forth powerless to help her. If she thought such things of him,—if she +had really been made to believe them,—then of course she could credit +nothing he told her. Some higher power than his would have to save her if she +was to be saved. +</p> + +<p> +To do Starr justice she had been very much stirred by Michael’s note, and +after a night of wakefulness and meditation had taken the letter to her mother. +Not that Starr turned naturally to her most unnatural mother for help in +personal matters usually; but there seemed to be no one else to whom she could +go. If only her father had been home! She thought of cabling him, but what +could she say in a brief message? How could she make him understand? And then +there was always the world standing by to peer curiously over one’s +shoulder when one sent a message. She could not hope to escape the public eye. +</p> + +<p> +She considered showing Michael’s note to Morton, her faithful nurse, but +Morton, wise in many things, would not understand this matter, and would be +powerless to help her. So Starr had gone to her mother. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott, shrewd to perfection, masked her indignation under a very proper +show of horror, told Starr that of course it was not true, but equally of +course it must be investigated; gave her word that she would do so immediately +and her daughter need have no further thought of the matter; sent at once for +young Carter with whom she held a brief consultation at the end of which Starr +was called and cheerfully given the version of the story which she had written +to Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Stuyvesant Carter could be very alluring when he tried, and he chose to try. +The stakes were a fortune, a noble name, and a very pretty girl with whom he +was as much in love at present as he ever had been in his checkered career, +with any girl. Moreover he had a nature that held revenge long. He delighted to +turn the story upon the man who pretended to be so righteous and who had dared +to give him orders about a poor worthless girl of the slums. He set his cunning +intellect to devise a scheme whereby his adversary should be caught in his own +net and brought low. He found a powerful ally in the mother of the girl he was +to marry. +</p> + +<p> +For reasons of ambition Mrs. Endicott desired supremely an alliance with the +house of Carter, and she was most determined that nothing should upset her +plans for her only daughter’s marriage. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that if her husband should return and hear any hint of the story about +Carter he would at once put an end to any relations between him and Starr. He +had always been “queer” about such things, and +“particular,” as she phrased it. It would be mortifying beyond +anything to have any balk in the arrangements after things had gone thus far; +and there was that hateful Mrs. Waterman, setting her cap for him so odiously +everywhere even since the engagement had been announced. Mrs. Endicott intended +to risk nothing. Therefore she planned with the young people for an early +marriage. She was anxious to have everything so thoroughly cut and dried, and +matters gone so far that her husband could not possibly upset them when he +returned. Finally she cabled him, asking him to set a positive date for his +home-coming as the young people wished to arrange for an early wedding. He +cabled back a date not so very far off, for in truth, though he had received +none of Michael’s warnings he was uneasy about this matter of his +daughter’s engagement. Young Carter had of course seemed all right, and +he saw no reason to demur when his wife wrote that the two young people had +come to an understanding, but somehow it had not occurred to him that the +marriage would be soon. He was troubled at thought of losing the one bright +treasure of his home, when he had but just got her back again from her European +education. He felt that it was unfortunate that imperative business had called +him abroad almost as soon as she returned. He was in haste to be back. +</p> + +<p> +But when his wife followed her cable message with a letter speaking of an +immediate marriage and setting a date but four days after the time set for his +arrival, he cabled to her to set no date until his return, which would be as +soon as he could possibly come. +</p> + +<p> +However, Mrs. Endicott had planned well. The invitations had been sent out that +morning. She thought it unnecessary to cable again but wrote, “I’m +sorry, but your message came too late. The invitations are all out now, and +arrangements going forward. I knew you would not want to stop Starr’s +plans and she seems to have her heart set on being married at once. Dear +Stuyvesant finds it imperative to take an ocean trip and he cannot bear the +thought of going without his wife. I really do not see how things could +possibly be held off now. We should be the laughing stock of society and I am +sure you would not want me to endure that. And Starr, dear child, is quite +childishly happy over her arrangements. She is only anxious to have you +properly home in time, so do hurry and get an earlier boat if possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Over this letter Mr. Endicott frowned and looked troubled. His wife had ever +taken things in her own hands where she would; but concerning Starr they had +never quite agreed, though he had let her have her own way about everything +else. It was like her to get this marriage all fixed up while he was away. Of +course it must be all right, but it was so sudden! And his little Starr! His +one little girl! +</p> + +<p> +Then, with his usual abrupt action he put the letter in his inner pocket and +proceeded to hurry his business as much as possible that he might take an +earlier boat than the one he had set. And he finally succeeded by dint of +working night as well as day, and leaving several important matters to go as +they would. +</p> + +<p> +The papers at last announced that Mr. Delevan Endicott who had been abroad for +three months on business had sailed for home and would reach New York nearly a +week before the date set for the wedding. The papers also were filled with +elaborate foreshadowings of what that event was likely to mean to the world of +society. +</p> + +<p> +And Michael, knowing that he must drink every drop of his bitter cup, knowing +that he must suffer and endure to the end of it, if perchance he might yet save +her in some miraculous way, read every word, and knew the day and the hour of +the boat’s probable arrival. He had it all planned to meet that boat +himself. If possible he would go out on the pilot and meet his man before he +landed. +</p> + +<p> +Then the silence of the great deep fell about the traveller; and the days went +by with the waiting one in the city; the preparations hurried forward by +trained and skilful workers. The Endicott home was filled with comers and +goers. Silks and satins and costly fabrics, laces and jewels and rare trimmings +from all over the world were brought together by hands experienced in costuming +the great of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +Over the busy machinery which she had set going, Mrs. Endicott presided with +the calmness and positive determination of one who had a great purpose in view +and meant to carry it out. Not a detail escaped, her vigilant eye, not an item +was forgotten of all the millions of little necessities that the world expected +and she must have forthcoming. Nothing that could make the wedding unique, +artistic, perfect, was too hard or too costly to be carried out. This was her +pinnacle of opportunity to shine, and Mrs. Endicott intended to make the most +of it. Not that she had not shone throughout her worldly career, but she knew +that with the marriage of her daughter her life would reach its zenith point +and must henceforth begin to decline. This event must be one to be remembered +in the annals of the future so long as New York should continue to marry and be +given in marriage. Starr’s wedding must surpass all others in wonder and +beauty and elegance. +</p> + +<p> +So she planned, wrought, carried out; and day by day the gleam in her eyes told +that she was nearing her triumph. +</p> + +<p> +It did not disturb her when the steamer was overdue one whole day, and then +two. Starr, even amid the round of gaieties in her young set, all given in her +honor, found time to worry about her father; but the wife only found in this +fact a cause for congratulation. She felt instinctively that her crucial time +was coming when her husband reached home. If Michael had dared to carry out his +threats, or if a breath of the stories concerning young Carter’s life +should reach him there would be trouble against which she had no power. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until the third morning with still no news of the vessel that Mrs. +Endicott began to feel uneasy. It would be most awkward to have to put off the +ceremony, and of course it would not do to have it without the bride’s +father when he was hurrying to be present. If he would arrive just in time so +much the better; but late—ah—that would be dreadful! She tightened +her determined lips, and looked like a Napoleon saying to herself, “There +shall be no Alps!” In like manner she would have said if she could: +“There shall be no sea if I wish it.” +</p> + +<p> +But the anxiety she felt was only manifested by her closer vigilance over her +helpers as swiftly and hourly the perfected preparations glided to their +finish. +</p> + +<p> +Starr grew nervous and restless and could not sleep, but hovered from room to +room in the daytime looking out of the windows, or fitfully telephoning the +steamship company for news. Her fiancé found her most unsatisfactory and none +of the plans he proposed for her diversion pleased her. Dark rings appeared +under her eyes, and she looked at him with a troubled expression sometimes when +she should have been laughing in the midst of a round of pleasures. +</p> + +<p> +Starr deeply loved her father, and some vague presentiment of coming trouble +seemed to shadow all the brightness of life. Now and then Michael’s face +with its great, true eyes, and pleading expression came between her and +Carter’s face, and seemed to blur its handsome lines; and then indefinite +questions haunted her. What if those terrible things Michael had said were +true? Was she sure, <i>sure</i>? And at times like that she fancied she saw a +weakness in the lines about Carter’s eyes and mouth. +</p> + +<p> +But she was most unused to studying character, poor child, and had no guide to +help her in her lonely problem of choosing; for already she had learned that +her mother’s ways and hers were not the same; and—her +father—did not come. When he came it would be all right. It had to be, +for there was no turning back, of course, now. The wedding was but two days +off. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, in his new office, frankly acknowledged to himself these days that he +could not work. He had done all that he could and now was waiting for a report +of that vessel. When it landed he hoped to be the first man on board; in fact, +he had made arrangement to go out to meet it before it landed. But it did not +come! Was it going to be prevented until the day was put off? Would that make +matters any better? Would he then have more time? And could he accomplish +anything with Mr. Endicott, even, supposing he had time? Was he not worse than +foolish to try? Mr. Endicott was already angry with him for another reason. His +wife and Starr, and that scoundrel of a Carter, would tell all sorts of +stories. Of course he would believe them in preference to his! He groaned aloud +sometimes, when, he was alone in the office: and wished that there were but a +way he could fling himself between Starr and all evil once for all; give his +life for hers. Gladly, gladly would he do it if it would do any good. Yet there +was no way. +</p> + +<p> +And then there came news. The vessel had been heard from still many miles out +to sea, with one of her propellers broken, and laboring along at great +disadvantage. But if all went well she would reach her dock at noon of the +following day—eight hours before the time set for the wedding! +</p> + +<p> +Starr heard and her face blossomed, into smiles. All would go well after all. +She telephoned again to the steamship company a little while later and her +utmost fears were allayed by their assurances. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott heard the news with intense relief. Her husband would scarcely +have time to find out anything. She must take pains that he had no opportunity +to see Michael before the ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +The young man heard and his heart beat wildly. Would the time be long enough to +save her? +</p> + +<p> +Noon of the next day came, but the steamer had not yet landed, though the news +from her was good. She would be in before night, there was no doubt of it now. +Mr. Endicott would be in time for the wedding, but just that and no more. He +had sent reassurances to his family, and they were going forward happily in the +whirl of the last things. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael in his lonely office hung up the telephone receiver with a heavy +heart. There would be no time now to save Starr. Everything was against him. +Even if he could get speech of Mr. Endicott which was doubtful now, was it +likely the man would listen at this the last minute? Of course his wife and +daughter and her fiancé could easily persuade him all was well, and Michael a +jealous fool! +</p> + +<p> +As he sat thus with bowed head before his desk, he heard footsteps along the +stone floor of the corridor outside. They halted at his door, and hesitating +fingers fumbled with the knob. He looked up frowning and was about to send any +chance client away, with the explanation that he was entirely too much occupied +at present to be interrupted, when the face of the woman who opened the door +caught his attention. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap22"></a>Chapter XXII</h3> + +<p> +It was Lizzie, with her baby in her arms; the girl he had defended in the +alley, and whose face he had last seen lying white and unconscious in the +moonlight, looking ghastly enough with the dark hair flung back against the +harsh pillow of stone. +</p> + +<p> +The face was white now, but softened with the beauty of motherhood. The bold, +handsome features had somehow taken on a touch of gentleness, though there +glowed and burned in her dark eyes a fever of passion and unrest. +</p> + +<p> +She stood still for a moment looking at Michael after she had closed the door, +and was holding the baby close as if fearing there might be some one there who +was minded to take it from her. +</p> + +<p> +As Michael watched her, fascinated, cut to the heart by the dumb suffering in +her eyes, he was reminded of one of the exquisite Madonnas he had seen in an +exhibition not long ago. The draperies had been dainty and cloud-like, and the +face refined and wonderful in its beauty, but there had been the same sorrowful +mother-anguish in the eyes. It passed through his mind that this girl and he +were kin because of a mutual torture. His face softened, and he felt a great +pity for her swelling in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes wandered to the little upturned face of the baby wrapped close in the +shabby shawl against its mother’s breast. It was a very beautiful little +sleeping face, with a look still of the spirit world from which it had but +recently come. There was something almost unearthly in its loveliness, +appealing even in its sleep, with its innocent baby curves and outlines. A +little stranger soul, whose untried feet had wandered into unwelcome quarters +where sorrows and temptations were so thickly strewn that it could not hope to +escape them. +</p> + +<p> +What had the baby come for? To make one more of the swarming mass of sinful +wretches who crowded the alley? Would those cherub lips half-parted now in a +seraphic smile live to pour forth blasphemous curses as he had heard even very +small children in the alley? Would that tiny sea-shell hand, resting so +trustingly against the coarse cloth of its mother’s raiment, looking like +a rosebud gone astray, live to break open safes and take their contents? Would +the lovely little soft round body whose tender curves showed pitifully beneath +the thin old shawl, grow up to lie in the gutter some day? The problem of the +people had never come to Michael so forcibly, so terribly as in that moment +before Lizzie spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Be you a real lawyer?” she asked. “Kin you tell what the law +is ’bout folks and thin’s?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled and rose to give her a chair as courteously as though she had +been a lady born. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down,” he said. “Yes, I am a lawyer. What can I do for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I s’pose you charge a lot,” said the girl with a meaning +glance around the room. “You’ve got thin’s fixed fine as silk +here. But I’ll pay anythin’ you ast ef it takes me a lifetime to do +it, ef you’ll jest tell me how I kin git my rights.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your rights?” questioned Michael sadly. Poor child! <i>Had</i> she +any rights in the universe that he could help her to get? The only rights he +knew for such as she were room in a quiet graveyard and a chance to be +forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, ain’t it against the law fer a man to marry a woman when +he’s already got one wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” said Michael, “unless he gets a divorce.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I ain’t goin’ to give him no divorce, you bet!” +said the girl fiercely. “I worked hard enough to get a real marriage +an’ I ain’t goin’ to give up to no fash’nable swell. +I’m’s good’s she is, an’ I’ve got my rights an +I’ll hev ’em. An’ besides, there’s baby—!” +Her face softened and took on a love light; and immediately Michael was +reminded of the madonna picture again. “I’ve got to think o’ +him!” Michael marvelled to see that the girl was revelling in her +possession, of the little helpless burden who had been the cause of her sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me about it.” His voice was very gentle. He recalled suddenly +that this was Sam’s girl. Poor Sam, too! The world was a terribly tangled +mess of trouble. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there ain’t much to tell that counts, only he kep’ +comp’ny with me, an’ I wouldn’t hev ennythin’ else but +a real marriage, an’ so he giv in, an’ we hed a couple o’ +rooms in a real respectable house an’ hed it fine till he had to go away +on business, he said. I never b’leeved that. Why he was downright rich. +He’s a real swell, you know. What kind o’ business cud he +have?” Lizzie straightened herself proudly and held her head high. +</p> + +<p> +“About whom are you talking?” asked Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, my husband, ’course, Mr. Sty-ve-zant Carter. You ken see his +name in the paper real often. He didn’t want me to know his real name. He +hed me call him Dan Hunt fer two months, but I caught on, an’ he was real +mad fer a while. He said his ma didn’t like the match, an’ he +didn’t want folks to know he’d got married, it might hurt him with +some of his swell friends—” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean to tell me that Mr. Stuyvesant Carter ever really +married you!” said Michael incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Lizzie proudly, “married me jest like enny +swell; got me a dimon ring an’ a silk lined suit an’ a willer plume +an everythin’.” Lizzie held up a grimy hand on which Michael saw a +showy glitter of jewelry. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you anything to show for it?” asked Michael, expecting her of +course to say no. “Have you any certificate or paper to prove that you +were married according to law?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Lizzie triumphantly, drawing forth a crumpled roll +from the folds of her dress and smoothing it out before his astonished eyes. +</p> + +<p> +There it was, a printed wedding certificate, done in blue and gold with a +colored picture of two clasped hands under a white dove with a gold ring in its +beak. Beneath was an idealized boat with silken sails bearing two people down a +rose-lined river of life; and the whole was bordered with orange blossoms. It +was one of those old-fashioned affairs that country ministers used to give +their parishioners in the years gone by, and are still to be had in some dusty +corners of a forgotten drawer in country book stores. But Michael recognized at +once that it was a real certificate. He read it carefully. The blanks were all +filled in, the date she gave of the marriage was there, and the name of the +bridegroom though evidently written in a disguised hand could be deciphered: +“Sty. Carter.” Michael did not recognize the names of either the +witnesses or the officiating minister. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you happen to have Mr. Carter’s real name here when you say +he married you under an assumed name?” he asked moving his finger +thoughtfully over the blurred name that had evidently been scratched out and +written over again. +</p> + +<p> +“I made him put it in after I found out who he was,” said Lizzie. +“He couldn’t come it over me thet-a-way. He was awful gone on me +then, an’ I cud do most ennythin’ with him. It was ’fore she +cum home from Europe! She jes’ went fer him an’ turned his head. Ef +I’d a-knowed in time I’d gone an’ tole her, but land sakes! I +don’t ’spose ’twould a done much good. I would a-ben to her +before, only I was fool ’nough to promise him I wouldn’t say +nothin’ to her ef he’d keep away from her. You see I needed money +awful bad fer baby. He don’t take to livin’ awful good. He cries a +lot an’ I hed to hev thin’s fer ’im, so I threatened him ef +he didn’t do sompin’ I’d go tell her; an’ he up +an’ forked over, but not till I promised. But now they say the papers is +tellin’ he’s to marry her tonight, an’ I gotta stop it +somehow. I got my rights an’ baby’s to look after, promise er no +promise, Ken I get him arrested?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not sure what you can do until I look into the matter,” +Michael said gravely. Would the paper he held help or would it not, in his +mission to Starr’s father? And would it be too late? His heavy heart +could not answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know these witnesses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure.” said Lizzie confidently. “They’re all swells. +They come down with him when he come to be married. I never seen ’em +again, but they was real jolly an’ nice. They give me a bokay of real +roses an’ a bracelet made like a snake with green glass eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the minister? Which is his church?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I donno,” said Lizzie. “I never ast. He Come +along an’ was ez jolly ez enny of ’em. He drank more’n all of +’em put together. He was awful game fer a preacher.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s heart began to sink. Was this a genuine marriage after all? +Could anything be proved? He questioned the girl carefully, and after a few +minutes sent her on her way promising to do all in his power to help her and +arranging to let her know as soon as possible if there was anything she could +do. +</p> + +<p> +That was a busy afternoon for Michael. The arrival of the steamer was +forgotten. His telephone rang vainly on his desk to a silent room. He was out +tramping over the city in search of the witnesses and the minister who had +signed Lizzie’s marriage certificate. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the afternoon papers came out with a glowing account of the wedding +that was to be, headed by the pictures of Starr and Mr. Carter, for the wedding +was a great event in society circles. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie on her hopeful way back to the alley, confident that Michael, the angel +of the alley, would do something for her, heard the boys crying the afternoon +edition of the paper, and was seized with a desire to see if her +husband’s picture would be in again. She could ill spare the penny from +her scanty store that she spent for it, but then, what was money in a case like +this? Michael would do something for her and she would have more money. +Besides, if worst came to worst she would go to the fine lady and threaten to +make it all public, and she would give her money. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie had had more advantages than most of her class in the alley. She had +worked in a seashore restaurant several summers and could read a little. From +the newspaper account she gathered enough to rouse her half-soothed frenzy. Her +eyes flashed fire as she went about her dark little tenement room making baby +comfortable. His feeble wail and his sweet eyes looking into hers only fanned +the fury of her flame. She determined not to wait for Michael, but to go on her +own account at once to that girl that was stealing away her husband, her +baby’s father, and tell her what she was doing. +</p> + +<p> +With the cunning of her kind Lizzie dressed herself in her best; a soiled pink +silk shirtwaist with elbow sleeves, a spotted and torn black skirt that showed +a tattered orange silk petticoat beneath its ungainly length, a wide white hat +with soiled and draggled willow plume of Alice blue, and high-heeled pumps run +over on their uppers. If she had but known it she looked ten times better in +the old Madonna shawl she had worn to Michael’s office, but she took +great satisfaction in being able to dress appropriately when she went to the +swells. +</p> + +<p> +The poor baby she wrapped in his soiled little best, and pinned a large untidy +pink satin bow on the back of his dirty little blanket. Then she started on her +mission. +</p> + +<p> +Now Starr had just heard that her father’s vessel would be at the dock in +a trifle over an hour and her heart was light and happy. Somehow all her +misgivings seemed to flee away, now that he was coming. She flew from one room +to another like a wild bird, trilling snatches of song, and looking prettier +than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, the wee sweet bairnie!” murmured the old Scotch nurse. +“If only her man will be gude to her!” +</p> + +<p> +There was some special bit of Starr’s attire for the evening that had not +arrived. She was in a twitter of expectancy about it, to be sure it pleased +her, and when she heard the bell she rushed to the head of the stairs and was +half-way down to see if it had come, when the servant opened the door to Lizzie +and her baby. +</p> + +<p> +One second more and the door would have closed hopelessly on poor Lizzie, for +no servant in that house would have thought of admitting such a creature to the +presence of their lady a few hours before her wedding; but Starr, poised +half-way on the landing, called, “What is it, Graves, some one to see +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“But she’s not the sort of person—Miss Starr!” +protested Graves with the door only open a crack now. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Graves, I’ll see her for a minute. I can’t deny +anyone on my wedding day you know, and father almost safely here. Show her into +the little reception room.” She smiled a ravishing smile on the devoted +Graves, so with many qualms of conscience and misgivings as to what the +mistress would say if she found out, Graves ushered Lizzie and her baby to the +room indicated and Starr fluttered down to see her. So it was Starr’s own +doings that Lizzie came into her presence on that eventful afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a sweet baby!” exclaimed Starr eagerly, “is he +yours?” Lizzie’s fierce eyes softened. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down and tell me who you are. Wait, I’ll have some tea brought +for you. You look tired. And won’t you let me give that sweet baby a +little white shawl of mine. I’m to be married tonight and I’d like +to give him a wedding present,” she laughed gaily, and Morton was sent +for the shawl and another servant for the tea, while Starr amused herself by +making the baby crow at her. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie sat in wonder. Almost for the moment she forgot her errand watching this +sweet girl in her lovely attire making much of her baby. But when the tea had +been brought and the soft white wool shawl wrapped around the smiling baby +Starr said again: +</p> + +<p> +“Now please tell me who you are and what you have come for. I can’t +give you but a minute or two more. This is a busy day, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie’s brow darkened. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Mrs. Carter!” she said drawing herself up with conscious +pride. +</p> + +<p> +“Carter?” said Starr politely. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m the wife of the man you’re goin’ to marry +tonight, an’ this is his child, I thought I’d come an’ tell +you ’fore ’twas too late. I thought ef you had enny goodness in you +you’d put a stop to this an’ give me my rights, an’ you seem +to hev some heart. Can’t you call it off? You wouldn’t want to take +my husband away from me, would you? You can get plenty others an’ +I’m jest a plain workin’ girl, an’ he’s mine anyhow, +an’ this is his kid.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr had started to her feet, her eyes wide, her hand fluttering to her heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” she cried. “You must be crazy to say such things. My +poor girl, you have made a great mistake. Your husband is some other Mr. Carter +I suppose. My Mr. Carter is not that kind of a man. He has never been +married—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he has!” interposed Lizzie fiercely, “He’s +married all right, an’ I got the c’tif’ct all right too, only +I couldn’t bring it this time cause I lef’ it with my lawyer; but +you can see it ef you want to, with his name all straight, “Sty-Vee-Zant +Carter,” all writ out. I see to it that he writ it himself. I kin read +meself, pretty good, so I knowed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very sorry for you,” said Starr sweetly, though her heart was +heating violently in spite of her efforts to be calm and to tell herself that +she must get rid of this wretched impostor without making a scene for the +servants to witness: “I am very sorry, but you have made some great +mistake. There isn’t anything I can do for you now, but later when I come +back to New York if you care to look me up I will try to do something for +baby.” +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie stood erect in the middle of the little room, her face slowly changing +to a stony stare, her eyes fairly blazing with anger. +</p> + +<p> +“De’yer mean ter tell me yer a goin’ t’go on an’ +marry my husban’ jes’ ez ef nothin’ had happened? Ain’t +yer goin’ ter ast him ef it’s true ner nothin’? Ain’t +yer goin’ t’ find out what’s true ’bout him? R +d’ye want ’im so bad ye don’t care who yer hurt, or wot he +is, so long’s he makes a big splurge before folks? Ain’t you +a-goin’ ter ast him ’bout it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, why certainly, of course,” said Starr as if she were pacifying +a frantic child, “I can ask him. I will ask him of course, but I +<i>know</i> that you are mistaken. Now really, I shall have to say good +afternoon. I haven’t another minute to spare. You must go!” +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t stir a step till you promise me thet you’ll ast him +right straight away. Ain’t you all got no telyphone? Well, you kin call +him up an’ ast him. Jest ast him why he didn’t never speak to you +of his wife Lizzie, and where he was the evenin’ of Augus’ four. +That’s the date on the c’tif’ct! Tell him you seen me +an’ then see wot he says. Tell him my lawyer is a goin’ to fix him +ef he goes on. It’ll be in all the papers tomorrer mornin’ ef he +goes on. An’ you c’n say I shan’t never consent to no +<i>di</i>-vorce, they ain’t respectable, an’ I got to think +o’ that on baby’s account.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will go quietly away now and say nothing more about this to +anyone I will tell Mr. Carter all about you,” said Starr, her voice +trembling with the effort at self-control. +</p> + +<p> +“D’ye promus you will?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Starr with dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“Will ye do it right off straight?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if you will go at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cross yer heart?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cross yer heart ye will? Thet’s a sort o’ oath t’ make +yer keep yer promus,” explained Lizzie. +</p> + +<p> +“A lady needs no such thing to make her keep her promise. Don’t you +know that ladies always keep their promises?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t so sure!” said Lizzie, “You can’t most +allus tell, ’t’s bes’ to be on the safe side. Will yer promus +me yer won’t marry him ef ye find out he’s my husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly I will not marry him if he is already married. Now go, +please, at once. I haven’t a minute to spare. If you don’t go at +once I cannot have time to call him up.” +</p> + +<p> +“You sure I kin trust you?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr turned on the girl such a gaze of mingled dignity and indignation that +her eye quailed before it. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I s’pose I gotta,” she said, dropping her eyes before +Starr’s righteous wrath. “But ‘no weddin’ bells’ +fer you tonight ef yeh keep yer promus. So long!” +</p> + +<p> +Starr shuddered as the girl passed her. The whiff of unwashed garments, stale +cooking, and undefinable tenement odor that reached her nostrils sickened her. +Was it possible that she must let this creature have a hold even momentarily +upon her last few hours? Yet she knew she must. She knew she would not rest +until she had been reassured by Carter’s voice and the explanation that +he would surely give her. She rushed upstairs to her own private ’phone, +locking the door on even her old nurse, and called up the ’phone in +Carter’s private apartments. +</p> + +<p> +Without owning it to herself she had been a little troubled all the afternoon +because she had not heard from Carter. Her flowers had come,—magnificent +in their costliness and arrangement, and everything he was to attend to was +done, she knew, but no word had come from himself. It was unlike him. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that he had given a dinner the evening before to his old friends who +were to be his ushers, and that the festivities would have lasted late. He had +not probably arisen very early, of course, but it was drawing on toward the +hour of the wedding now. She intended to begin to dress at once after she had +’phoned him. It was strange she had not heard from him. +</p> + +<p> +After much delay an unknown voice answered the ’phone, and told her Mr. +Carter could not come now. She asked who it was but got no response, except +that Mr. Carter couldn’t come now. The voice had a muffled, thick sound. +“Tell him to call me then as soon as possible,” she said, and the +voice answered, “Awright!” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly she hung up the receiver and called Morton to help her dress. She +would have liked to get the matter out of the way before she went about the +pretty ceremony, and submitted herself to her nurse’s hands with an ill +grace and troubled thoughts. The coarse beauty of Lizzie’s face haunted +her. It reminded her of an actress that Carter had once openly admired, and she +had secretly disliked. She found herself shuddering inwardly every time she +recalled Lizzie’s harsh voice, and uncouth sentences. +</p> + +<p> +She paid little heed to the dressing process after all and let Morton have her +way in everything, starting nervously when the ’phone bell rang, or +anyone tapped at her door. +</p> + +<p> +A message came from her father finally. He hoped to be with her in less than an +hour now, and as yet no word had come from Carter! Why did he not know she +would be anxious? What could have kept him from his usual greeting of her, and +on their wedding day! +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, in the midst of Morton’s careful draping of the wedding veil +which she was trying in various ways to see just how it should be put on at the +last minute, Starr started up from her chair. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot stand this, Mortie. That will do for now. I must telephone Mr. +Carter. I can’t understand why he doesn’t call me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but the poor man is that busy!” murmured Morton excusingly as +she hurried obediently out of the room. “Now, mind you don’t muss +that beautiful veil.” +</p> + +<p> +But after a half hour of futile attempt to get into communication with Carter, +Starr suddenly appeared in her door calling for her faithful nurse again. +</p> + +<p> +“Mortie!” she called excitedly. “Come here quick! I’ve +ordered the electric. It’s at the door now. Put on your big cloak and +come with me! I’ve got to see Mr. Carter at once and I can’t get +him on the ’phone.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Miss Starr!” protested Morton. “You’ve no time to +go anywhere now, and look at your pretty veil!” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the veil, Mortie, I’m going. Hurry. I can’t stop +to explain. I’ll tell you on the way. We’ll be back before anyone +has missed us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But your mamma, Miss Starr! She will be very angry with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Mamma must not know. And anyway I must go. Come, if you won’t come +with me I’m going alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr with these words grasped a great cloak of dark green velvet, soft and +pliable as a skin of fur, threw it over her white bridal robes, and hurried +down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Miss Starr, darlin’,” moaned Morton looking hurriedly +around for a cloak with which to follow. “You’ll spoil yer veil +sure! Wait till I take it off’n ye.” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr had opened the front door and was already getting into the great +luxurious car that stood outside. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap23"></a>Chapter XXIII</h3> + +<p> +Michael, as he went about on his search kept crying over and over again in his +heart: “Oh, God! Do something to save her! Do something to save my little +Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +Over and over the prayer prayed itself without seeming thought or volition on +his part, as he went from place to place, faithfully, keenly, step by step, +searching out what he needed to know. At last toward six o’clock, his +chain of evidence led him to the door of Stuyvesant Carter’s apartments. +</p> + +<p> +After some delay the door was opened reluctantly a little way by a servant with +an immobile mask of a face who stared at him stupidly, but finally admitted +that the three men whose names he mentioned were inside. He also said that Mr. +Carter was in, but could not be seen. +</p> + +<p> +He closed the door on the visitor and went inside again to see if any of the +others would come out. There ensued an altercation in loud and somewhat +unsteady tones, and at last the door opened again and a fast looking young man +who admitted himself to be Theodore Brooks slid out and closed it carefully +behind him. The air that came with him was thick with tobacco smoke and heavy +with liquor, and the one glimpse Michael got of the room showed a strange +radiance of some peculiar light that glowed into the dusky hall weirdly. +</p> + +<p> +The heavy-eyed youth who stood braced against the wall uncertainly looked into +Michael’s face with an impudent laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, parson, what’s the grouch? Are you the devil or an angel +sent to bring retribution?” He ended with a silly laugh that told the +experienced ear of the young lawyer that the young man had been drinking +heavily. And this was the man whose name was signed as Rev. Theodore Brooks, +D.D., on the tawdry little marriage certificate that Michael held in his hand. +His heart sank at the futility of the task before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a minister?” asked Michael briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I a minister?” drawled young Brooks. “M-my-m-m-mnster! +Well now that get’s my goat! Say, boys, he wants t’ kno’ +’f I’m a m-min’ster! Min-ster of what? Min-ster +plen-p’ten’sherry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever perform a marriage?” asked Michael sharply to stop +the loud guffaw that was re-echoing through the polished corridors of the +apartment. +</p> + +<p> +“P’form a m’riage, d’ye say? No, but I’m +goin’ perform ’t a marriage tonight ’f the dead wakes up in +time. Goin’ t’ be bes’ man. Say, boys! Got ’im +’wake yet? Gettin’ late!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael in despair took hold of the other’s arm and tried to explain what +he wanted to know. Finally he succeeded in bringing the matter into the +fellow’s comprehension. +</p> + +<p> +“Wedding, oh, yes, I ’member, peach of a girl! Stuyvy awfully fond +of her. No harm meant. Good joke! Yes,—I borr’wed +Grand’F’ther Brooks’s old gown’n ban’s. +Awf’lly good disguise! No harm meant—on’y good +joke—girl awf’lly set on getting married. Stuyvy wanted t’ +please ’er—awfully good, joke—!” +</p> + +<p> +“A ghastly joke, I should say, sir!” said Michael sternly and then +the door was flung open by hands from inside, loud angry voices protesting +while another hand sought unavailingly to close the door again, but Michael +came and planted himself in the open door and stood like an avenging angel come +to call to judgment. The scene that was revealed to him was too horrifying for +words. +</p> + +<p> +A long banquet table stood in the midst of the handsome room whose furnishings +were of the costliest. Amid the scattered remains of the feast, napkins lying +under the table, upset glasses still dripping their ruby contents down the +damask of the tablecloth, broken china, scattered plates and silver, stood a +handsome silver bound coffin, within which, pallid and deathlike, lay the +handsome form of the bridegroom of the evening. All about the casket in high +sconces burned tall tapers casting their spectral light over the scene. +</p> + +<p> +Distributed about the room lounging in chairs, fast asleep on the couches, +lying under the table, fighting by the doorway, one standing on a velvet chair +raising an unsteady glass of wine and making a flabby attempt at a drinking +song, were ten young men, the flower of society, the expected ushers of the +evening’s wedding. +</p> + +<p> +Michael with his white face, his golden hair aflame in the flickering candle +light, his eyes full of shocked indignation, stood for a moment surveying the +scene, and all at once he knew that his prayer was answered. There would be no +wedding that night. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this another of your ghastly jokes?” he turned to Brooks who +stood by as master of ceremonies, not in the least disturbed by the presence of +the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just what it is,” stuttered Brooks, “a +j-j-joke, a p-p-p-pract’cal joke. No harm meant, only Stuyvy’s hard +to wake up. Never did like gettin’ up in the mornin’. Wake +’im up boys! Wake ’im up! Time to get dressed for the +wedding!” +</p> + +<p> +“Has anyone sent word to Miss Endicott?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sent word to Mish Endicott? No, I’d ’no’s they have. +Think she’d care to come? Say, boys, that’s a good joke. This old +fellow—don’t know who he is—devil’n all his angels +p’raps—he s’gests we send word to Mish Endicott t’ +come’ th’ fun’ral—” +</p> + +<p> +“I said nothing of the kind,” said Michael fiercely. “Have +you no sense of decency? Go and wash your face and try to realize what you have +been doing. Have some one telephone for a doctor. I will go and tell the +family,” and Michael strode out of the room to perform the hardest task +that had ever yet fallen to his lot. +</p> + +<p> +He did not wait for the elevator but ran down the flights of stairs trying to +steady his thoughts and realize the horror through which he had just passed. +</p> + +<p> +As he started down the last flight he heard the elevator door clang below, and +as it shot past him he caught a glimpse of white garments and a face with eyes +that he knew. He stopped short and looked upward. Was it—could it be? But +no, of course not. He was foolish. He turned and compelled his feet to hurry +down the rest of the stairs, but at the door his worst fears were confirmed, +for there stood the great electric car, and the familiar face of the Endicott +chauffeur assured him that some one of the family had just gone to the ghastly +spectacle upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +In sudden panic he turned and fled up the stairs. He could not wait for +elevators now. He fain would have had wings, the wings of a protecting angel, +that he might reach her ere she saw that sight of horror. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even as he started he knew that he must be too late. +</p> + +<p> +Starr stopped startled in the open doorway, with Morton, protesting, +apprehensive, just behind her. The soft cloak slid away from her down the satin +of her gown, and left her revealed in all her wedding whiteness, her eyes like +stars, her beautiful face flushed excitedly. Then the eyes rested on the coffin +and its death-like occupant and her face went white as her dress, while a great +horror grew in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Brooks, more nearly sober than the rest, saw her first, and hastened to do the +honors. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, boys, she’s come,” he shouted. “Bride’s +come. Git up, Bobby Trascom. Don’t yer know ye mustn’t lie down, +when there’s a lady present—Van—get out from under that +table. Help me pick up these things. Place all in a mess. Glad to see you, Mish +Endicott—” He bowed low and staggered as he recovered himself. +</p> + +<p> +Starr turned her white face toward him: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Brooks,” she said in a tone that sobered him somewhat, +“what does it mean? Is he dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all, not at all, Mish Endicott,” he tried to say gravely. +“Have him all right in plenty time. Just a little joke, Mish Endicott. +He’s merely shlightly intoxicated—” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr heard no more. With a little stifled cry and a groping motion of her +white-clad arms, she crumpled into a white heap at the feet of her horrified +nurse. It was just as she fell that Michael appeared at the door, like the +rescuing angel that he was, and with one withering glance at the huddled group +of men he gathered her in his arms and sped down the stairs, faithful Morton +puffing after him. Neither of them noticed a man who got out of the elevator +just before Starr fell and walking rapidly toward the open door saw the whole +action. In a moment more Mr. Endicott stood in the door surveying the scene +before him with stern, wrathful countenance. +</p> + +<p> +Like a dash of cold water his appearance brought several of the participants in +the disgraceful scene to their senses. A few questions and he was possessed of +the whole shameful story; the stag dinner growing into a midnight orgy; the +foolish dare, and the reckless acceptance of it by the already intoxicated +bridegroom; the drugged drinks; and the practical joke carried out by brains +long under the influence of liquor. Carter’s man who had protested had +been bound and gagged in the back room. The jokers had found no trouble in +securing the necessary tools to carry out their joke. Money will buy anything, +even an undertaker for a living man. The promise of secrecy and generous fees +brought all they needed. Then when the ghastly work was completed and the +unconscious bridegroom lying in state in his coffin amid the debris of the +table, they drowned the horror of their deed in deeper drinking. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott turned from the scene, his soul filled with loathing and horror. +</p> + +<p> +He had reached home to find the house in a tumult and Starr gone. Morton, as +she went out the door after her young mistress, had whispered to the butler +their destination, and that they would return at once. She had an innate +suspicion that it would be best for some one to know. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott at once ordered the runabout and hastened after them, arriving but +a moment or two later. Michael had just vanished up the Apartment stairs as he +entered the lower hallway. The vague indefinite trouble that had filled his +mind concerning his daughter’s marriage to a man he little knew except by +reputation, crystallized into trouble, dear and distinct, as he hurried after +his daughter. Something terrible must have come to Starr or she would never +have hurried away practically alone at a time like this. +</p> + +<p> +The electric car was gone by the time Mr. Endicott reached the lower hall +again, and he was forced to go back alone as he came, without further +explanation of the affair than what he could see; but he had time in the rapid +trip to become profoundly thankful that the disgraceful scene he had just left +had occurred before and not after his daughter’s marriage. Whatever +alleviating circumstances there were to excuse the reckless victim of his +comrade’s joke, the fact remained that a man who could fall victim to a +joke like that was not the companion for his daughter’s life; she who had +been shielded and guarded at every possible point, and loved as the very apple +of his eye. His feelings toward the perpetrators of this gruesome sport were +such that he dared not think about them yet. No punishment seemed too great for +such. And she, his little Starr, had looked upon that shameful scene; had seen +the man she was expecting to marry lying as one dead—! It was too awful! +And what had it done to her? Had it killed her? Had the shock unsettled her +mind? The journey to his home seemed longer than his whole ocean voyage. Oh, +why had he not left business to go to the winds and come back long ago to +shield his little girl! +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, Michael, his precious burden in his arms, had stepped into the +waiting car, motioning Morton to follow and sit in the opposite seat. The +delicate Paris frock trailed unnoticed under foot, and the rare lace of the +veil fell back from the white face, but neither Michael nor the nurse thought +of satin and lace now, as they bent anxiously above the girl to see if she +still breathed. +</p> + +<p> +All the way to her home Michael held the lovely little bride in his arms, +feeling her weight no more than a feather; fervently thankful that he might +bear her thus for the moment, away from the danger that had threatened her +life. He wished with all his heart he might carry her so to the ends of the +earth and never stop until he had her safe from all harm that earth could +bring. His heart thrilled wildly with the touch of her frail sweetness, even +while his anxious face bent over her to watch for signs of returning +consciousness. +</p> + +<p> +But she did not become conscious before she reached the house. His strong arms +held her as gently as though she had been a baby as he stepped carefully out +and carried her to her own room; laying her upon the white bed, where but two +hours before the delicate wedding garments had been spread ready for her to put +on. Then he stood back, reverently looked upon her dear face, and turned away. +It was in the hall that he met her mother, and her face was fairly disfigured +with her sudden recognition of him. +</p> + +<p> +“What! Is it you that have dared come into this house? The impertinence! +I shall report all your doings to my husband. He will be very angry. I believe +that you are at the bottom of this whole business! You shall certainly be dealt +with as you deserve!” +</p> + +<p> +She hissed the words after him as Michael descended the stairs with bowed head +and closed lips. It mattered not now what she said or thought of him. Starr was +saved! +</p> + +<p> +He was about to pass out into the world again, away from her, away even from +knowledge of how she came out of her swoon. He had no further right there now. +His duty was done. He had been allowed to save her in her extremity! +</p> + +<p> +But just as he reached it the door opened and Mr. Endicott hurried in. +</p> + +<p> +He paused for an instant. +</p> + +<p> +“Son!” said he, “it was you who brought her home!” It +was as if that conviction had but just been revealed to his perturbed mind. +“Son, I’m obliged. Sit here till I come. I want to speak with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor came with a nurse, and Michael sat and listened to the distant +voices in her room. He gathered from the sounds by and by that Starr was +conscious, was better. +</p> + +<p> +Until then no one had thought of the wedding or of the waiting guests that +would be gathering. Something must be done. And so it came about that as the +great organ sounded forth the first notes of the wedding march—for by +some blunder the bride’s signal had been given to the organist when the +Endicott car drew up at the church—that Michael, bare headed, with his +hat in his hand, walked gravely up the aisle, unconscious of the battery of +eyes, and astonished whispers of “Who is he? Isn’t he magnificent? +What does it mean? I thought the ushers were to come first?” until he +stood calmly in the chancel and faced the wondering audience. +</p> + +<p> +If an angel had come straight down from heaven and interfered with their +wedding they could not have been more astonished. For, as he stood beneath the +many soft lights in front of the wall of living green and blossoms, with his +white face and grave sweet dignity, they forgot for once to study the fashion +of his coat, and sat awed before his beautiful face; for Michael wore tonight +the look of transport with chin uplifted, glowing eyes, and countenance that +showed the spirit shining through. +</p> + +<p> +The organist looked down, and instinctively hushed his music. Had he made some +mistake? Then Michael spoke. Doubtless he should have gone to the minister who +was to perform the ceremony, and given him the message, but Michael little knew +the ways of weddings. It was the first one he had ever attended, and he went +straight to the point. +</p> + +<p> +“On account of the sudden and serious illness of the groom,” he +said, “it will be impossible for the ceremony to go on at this time. The +bride’s family ask that you will kindly excuse them from further +intrusion or explanation this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +With a slight inclination of his head to the breathless audience Michael passed +swiftly down the aisle and out into the night, and the organist, by tremendous +self-control, kept on playing softly until the excited people who had drifted +usherless into the church got themselves out into their carriages once more. +</p> + +<p> +Michael walked out into the night, bareheaded still, his eyes lifted to the +stars shining so far away above the city, and said softly, with wondering, +reverent voice: “Oh, God! Oh, God!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap24"></a>Chapter XXIV</h3> + +<p> +Following hard upon the interrupted wedding came other events that not only +helped to hush matters up, but gave the world a plausible reason why the +ceremony did not come off as soon as the groom was convalescent from what was +reported in the papers to be an attack of acute indigestion, easily accounted +for by the round of banquets and entertainments which usually precede a society +wedding. +</p> + +<p> +During that eventful night while Starr still lay like a crushed lily torn +rudely from its stem, her mother, after a stormy scene with her husband, in +which he made it plain to her just what kind of a man she was wanting her +daughter to marry, and during which she saw the fall of her greatest social +ambitions, was suddenly stricken with apoplexy. +</p> + +<p> +The papers next morning told the news as sympathetically as a paper can tell +one’s innermost secrets. It praised the wonderful ability of the woman +who had so successfully completed all the unique arrangements for what had +promised to be the greatest wedding of the season, if not of all seasons; and +upon whose overtaxed strength, the last straw had been laid in the illness of +the bridegroom. It stated that now of course the wedding would be put off +indefinitely, as nothing could be thought of while the bride’s mother lay +in so critical a state. +</p> + +<p> +For a week there were daily bulletins of her condition published always in more +and more remote corners of the paper, until the little ripple that had been +made in the stream of life passed; and no further mention was made of the +matter save occasionally when they sent for some famous specialist: when they +took her to the shore to try what sea air might do; or when they brought her +home again. +</p> + +<p> +But all the time the woman lay locked in rigid silence. Only her cold eyes +followed whoever came into her room. She gave no sign of knowing what they +said, or of caring who came near her. Her husband’s earnest pleas, +Starr’s tears, drew from her no faintest expression that might have been +even imagined from a fluttering eyelash. There was nothing but that stony +stare, that almost unseeing gaze, that yet followed, followed wherever one +would move. It was a living death. +</p> + +<p> +And when one day the release came and the eyes were closed forever from the +scenes of this world, it was a sad relief to both husband and daughter. Starr +and her father stole away to an old New England farm-house where Mr. +Endicott’s elderly maiden sister still lived in the old family homestead; +a mild-eyed, low-voiced woman with plain gray frocks and soft white laces at +wrists and neck and ruched about her sweet old face above the silver of her +hair. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had not been there since she was a little child, and her sad heart found +her aunt’s home restful. She stayed there through the fall and until +after the first of the year; while her father came and went as business +dictated; and the Endicott home on Madison Avenue remained closed except for +the caretakers. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile young Carter had discreetly escorted his mother to Europe, and was +supposed by the papers to be going to return almost immediately. Not a breath +of gossip, strange to say, stole forth. Everything seemed arranged to quiet any +suspicion that might arise. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the fall he returned to town but Starr was still in New England. No +one knew of the estrangement between them. Their immediate friends were away +from town still, and everything seemed perfectly natural in the order of +decency. Of course people could not be married at once when there had been a +death in the family. +</p> + +<p> +No one but the two families knew of Carter’s repeated attempts to be +reconciled to Starr; of his feeble endeavor at explanation; of her continued +refusal even to see him; and the decided letter she wrote him after he had +written her the most abject apology he knew how to frame; nor of her +father’s interview with the young man wherein he was told some facts +about himself more plainly than anyone, even in his babyhood, had ever dared to +tell him. Mr. Endicott agreed to keep silence for Starr’s sake, provided +the young man would do nothing to create any gossip about the matter, until the +intended wedding had been forgotten, and other events should have taken the +minds of society, from their particular case. Carter, for his own sake, had not +cared to have the story get abroad and had sullenly acceded to the command. He +had not, however, thought it necessary to make himself entirely miserable while +abroad; and there were those who more than once spoke his name in company with +that of a young and dashing divorcée. Some even thought he returned to America +sooner than he intended in order to travel on the same steamer that she was to +take. However, those whispers had not as yet crossed the water; and even if +they had, such things were too common to cause much comment. +</p> + +<p> +Then, one Monday morning, the papers were filled with horror over an unusually +terrible automobile accident; in which a party of seven, of whom the young +divorcée was one and Stuyvesant Carter was another, went over an embankment +sixty feet in height, the car landing upside down on the rocks below, and +killing every member of the party. The paper also stated that Mr. Theodore +Brooks, intimate friend of Carter’s, who was to have been best man at the +wedding some months previous, which was postponed on account of the sudden +illness and death of the bride’s mother, was of the party. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended the career of Stuyvesant Carter, and thus the world never knew +exactly why Starr Endicott did not become Mrs. Carter. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, from the moment that he went forth from delivering his message in the +church, saw no more of the Endicotts. He longed inexpressibly to call and +enquire for Starr; to get some word of reconciliation from her father; to ask +if there was not some little thing that he might be trusted to do for them; but +he knew that his place was not there, and his company was not desired. Neither +would he write, for even a note from him could but seem, to Starr, a reminder +of the terrible things of which he had been witness, that is if anybody had +ever told her it was he that brought her home. +</p> + +<p> +One solace alone he allowed himself. Night after night as he went home late he +would walk far out of his way to pass the house and look up at her window; and +always it comforted him a little to see the dim radiance of her soft night +light; behind the draperies of those windows, somewhere, safe, she lay asleep, +the dear little white-faced girl that he had been permitted to carry to her +home and safety, when she had almost reached the brink of destruction. +</p> + +<p> +About a week after the fateful wedding day Michael received a brief note from +Starr. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +My dear Mr. Endicott:<br> + I wish to thank you for your trouble in bringing me home last week. I +cannot understand how you came to be there at that time. Also I am deeply +grateful for your kindness in making the announcement at the church. Very +sincerely, S.D.E. +</p> + +<p> +Michael felt the covert question in that phrase: “I cannot understand how +you came to be there at that time.” She thought, perhaps, that to carry +his point and stop the marriage he had had a hand in that miserable business! +Well, let her think it. It was not his place to explain, and really of course +it could make little difference to her what she believed about him. As well to +let it rest. He belonged out of her world, and never would he try to force his +way into it. +</p> + +<p> +And so with the whiteness of his face still lingering from the hard days of +tension, Michael went on, straining every nerve in his work; keeping the alley +room open nightly even during hot weather, and in constant touch with the farm +which was now fairly on its feet and almost beginning to earn its own living; +though the contributions still kept coming to him quietly, here and there, and +helped in the many new plans that grew out of the many new necessities. +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter had built and built, until there were pretty little bungalows of +one and two and three rooms dotted all about the farm to be rented at a low +price to the workers. It had come to be a little community by itself, spoken of +as “Old Orchard Farms,” and well respected in the neighborhood, for +in truth the motley company that Michael and Sam gathered there had done far +better in the way of law-and-orderliness than either had hoped. They seemed to +have a pride that nothing that could hurt “the boss’s” +reputation as a landowner should be laid to their charge. If by chance there +came into their midst any sordid being who could not see matters in that light +the rest promptly taught him better, or else put him out. +</p> + +<p> +And now the whole front yard was aflame with brilliant flowers in their season. +The orchard had been pruned and trimmed and grafted, and in the spring +presented a foreground of wonderful pink and white splendor; and at all seasons +of the year the grassy drive wound its way up to the old house, through a vista +of branches, green, or brown. +</p> + +<p> +It had long been in Michael’s heart to build over the old house—for +what he did not know. Certainly he had no hope of ever using it himself except +as a transitory dwelling; yet it pleased his fancy to have it as he dreamed it +out. Perhaps some day it might be needed for some supreme reason, and now was +the time to get it ready. So one day he took a great and simple-hearted +architect down to the place to stay over night and get an idea of the +surroundings; and a few weeks later he was in possession of a plan that showed +how the old house could be made into a beautiful new house, and yet keep all +the original outlines. The carpenter, pleased with the prospect of doing +something really fine, had undertaken the work and it was going forward +rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +The main walls were to be built around with stone, old stone bought from the +ruins of a desolated barn of forgotten years, stone that was rusty and golden +and green in lovely mellow tones; stone that was gray with age and mossy in +place; now and then a stone that was dead black to give strength to the +coloring of the whole. There were to be windows, everywhere, wide, low windows, +that would let the sunlight in; and windows that nestled in the sloping, +rambling roofs that were to be stained green like the moss that would grow on +them some day. There was to be a piazza across the entire front with rough +stone pillars, and a stone paved floor up to which the orchard grass would grow +in a gentle terrace. Even now Sam and his helpers were at work starting rose +vines of all varieties, to train about the trellises and twine about the +pillars. Sam had elected that it should be called “Rose Cottage.” +Who would have ever suspected Sam of having any poetry in his nature? +</p> + +<p> +The great stone fireplace with its ancient crane and place to sit inside was to +be retained, and built about with more stone, and the partitions between the +original sitting-room and dining-room and hall were to be torn down, to make +one splendid living-room of which the old fireplace should be the centre, with +a great window at one side looking toward the sea, and a deep seat with book +cases in the corner. Heavy beams were somehow to be put in the ceiling to +support it, and fine wood used in the wainscoting and panelling, with rough +soft-toned plaster between and above. The floors were to be smooth, wide boards +of hard wood well fitted. +</p> + +<p> +A little gable was to be added on the morning-side of the house for a +dining-room, all windows, with a view of the sea on one side and the river on +the other. Upstairs there would be four bedrooms and a bath-room, all according +to the plan to be white wainscoting half-way up and delicately vined or tinted +papers above. +</p> + +<p> +Michael took great pleasure in going down to look at the house, and watching +the progress that was made with it, as indeed the whole colony did. They called +it “The Boss’s Cottage,” and when they laid off work at night +always took a trip to see what had been done during the day, men, women and +children. It was a sort of sacred pilgrimage, wherein they saw their own +highest dreams coming true for the man they loved because he had helped them to +a future of possibilities. Not a man of them but wistfully wondered if he would +ever get to the place where he could build him a house like that, and resolved +secretly to try for it; and always the work went better the next day for the +visit to the shrine. +</p> + +<p> +But after all, Michael would turn from his house with an empty ache in his +heart. What was it for? Not for him. It was not likely he would ever spend +happy hours there. He was not like other men. He must take his happiness in +making others happy. +</p> + +<p> +But one day a new thought came to him, as he watched the laborers working out +the plan, and bringing it ever nearer and nearer to the perfect whole. A great +desire came to him to have Starr see it some day, to know what she would think +about it, and if she would like it. The thought occurred to him that perhaps, +some time, in the changing of the world, she might chance near that way, and he +have opportunity to show her the house that he had built—for her! Not +that he would ever tell her that last. She must never know of course that she +was the only one in all the world he could ever care for. That would seem a +great presumption in her eyes. He must keep that to himself. But there would be +no harm in showing her the house, and he would make it now as beautiful as if +she were to occupy it. He would take his joy in making all things fair, with +the hope that she might one day see and approve it. +</p> + +<p> +So, as the work drew near its completion he watched it more and more carefully, +matching tints in rooms, and always bringing down some new idea, or finding +some particular bit of furniture that would some day fit into a certain niche. +In that way he cheated the lonely ache in his heart, and made believe he was +happy. +</p> + +<p> +And another winter drew its white mantle about its shoulders and prepared to +face the blast. +</p> + +<p> +It bade fair to be a bitter winter for the poor, for everything was high, and +unskilled labor was poorly paid. Sickness and death were abroad, and lurked in +the milk supply, the food supply, the unsanitary tenements about the alley; +which, because it had not been so bad as some other districts had been left +uncondemned. Yet it was bad enough, and Michael’s hands were full to keep +his people alive, and try to keep some of them from sinning. For always where +there is misery, there is the more sinning. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal sat on her doorstep shivering with her tattered shawl about her +shoulders, or when it grew too cold peered from her little muslin curtained +window behind the geranium, to see the dirty white hearse with its pink-winged +angel atop, pass slowly in and out with some little fragment of humanity; and +knew that one day her turn would come to leave it all and go—! Then she +turned back to her little room which had become the only heaven she knew, and +solaced herself with the contents of a black bottle! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap25"></a>Chapter XXV</h3> + +<p> +During the years of his work in the alley Michael had become known more and +more among workers for the poor, and he found strength in their brotherhood, +though he kept mainly to his own little corner, and had little time to go out +into other fields. But he had formed some very pleasant distant friendships +among workers, and had met prominent men who were interested in reforms of all +sorts. +</p> + +<p> +He was hurrying back to his boarding place one evening late in January with his +mind full of the old problem of how to reach the mass of humanity and help them +to live in decency so that they might stand some little chance of being good as +well as being alive. +</p> + +<p> +At the crossing of another avenue he met a man whose eloquence as a public +speaker was only equalled by his indefatigable tirelessness as a worker among +men. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Endicott,” he said cordially, halting in his rapid +walk, “I wonder if you’re not the very man I want? Will you do me a +favor? I’m in great straits and no time to hunt up anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything I can do, Doctor, I am at your service,” said Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Good! Thank you!” said the great man. “Are you free this +evening for an hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can be,” said Michael smiling. The other man’s hearty +greeting and warm “thank you” cheered his lonely heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then you’ll take my place at Madison Square Garden tonight, +won’t you? I’ve just had a telegram that my mother is very ill, +perhaps dying, and I feel that I must go at once. I’m on my way to the +station now. I thought Patton would be at his rooms perhaps and he might help +me out, but they tell me he is out of town on a lecture tour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take your place?” said Michael aghast. “That I’m sure +I could never do, Doctor. What were you going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, there’s a mass meeting at Madison Square Garden. We’re +trying to get more playgrounds and roof gardens for poor children, you know. I +was to speak about the tenement district, give people a general idea of what +the need is, you know. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the +subject. They’re expecting some big men there who can be big givers if +they’re touched in the right way. You’re very good to help me out. +You’ll excuse me if I hurry on, it’s almost train time. I want to +catch the six o’clock express West—” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Doctor,” said Michael in dismay, striding along by his side +down the street, “I really couldn’t do that. I’m not a public +speaker, you know—I never addressed a big audience in my life! +Isn’t there some one else I could get for you?” +</p> + +<p> +It was odd that while he was saying it the vision of the church filled with the +fashionable world, waiting for a wedding which did not materialize, came to his +thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that doesn’t make the slightest difference in the +world!” said the worried man. “You know the subject from <i>a</i> +to <i>z</i>, and I don’t know another available soul tonight who does. +Just tell them what you know, you needn’t talk long; it’ll be all +right anyway. Just smile your smile and they’ll give all right. Good +night, and thank you from my heart! I must take this cab,” and he hailed +a passing cab and sprang inside, calling out above the city’s din, +“Eight o’clock the meeting is. Don’t worry! You’ll come +out all right. It’ll be good practice for your business.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still in the middle of the crowded pavement and looked after the +departing cab in dismay. If ever in all his life had he come to a spot where he +felt so utterly inadequate to fill a situation. Frantically he tried as he +started down the street again, to think of some one else to ask. There seemed +to be no one at all who was used to speaking that knew the subject. The few who +knew were either out of town or at a great distance. He did not know how to +reach them in time. Besides, there was something about Michael that just would +not let him shirk a situation no matter how trying it was to him. It was one of +the first principles he had been taught with football, and before he reached +his boarding place, his chin was up, and his lips firmly set. Anyone who knew +him well would have felt sure Michael was going into a scrimmage and expected +the fighting to be hard. +</p> + +<p> +It was Will French who dug it out of him after dinner, and laughed and slapped +him gleefully on the shoulder. Will was engaged to Hester now and he was +outrageously happy. +</p> + +<p> +“Good work, old fellow! You’ve got your chance, now give it to +’em! I don’t know anybody can do it better. I’d like to bring +a millionaire or two to hear you. You’ve been there, now tell ’em! +Don’t frown like that, old fellow, I tell you you’ve got the chance +of your life. Why don’t you tell ’em about the tenement in the +alley?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face cleared. +</p> + +<p> +“I hadn’t thought of it, Will. Do you think I could? It isn’t +exactly on the subject. I understood him I was to speak of the tenement in +relation to the Playground.” +</p> + +<p> +“The very thing,” said Will. “Didn’t he tell you to say +what you knew? Well, give it to ’em straight, and you’ll see those +rich old fellows open their eyes. Some of ’em own some of those old +rickety shacks, and probably don’t know what they own. Tell ’em. +Perhaps the old man who owns our tenement will be there! Who knows?” +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said Michael, his face all alight, “did I tell +you that Milborn told me the other day that they think they’re on track +of the real owner of our tenement? The agent let out something the last time +they talked with him and they think they may discover who he is, though +he’s hidden himself well behind agents for years. If we can find out who +he is we may be able to help him understand what great need there is for him to +make a few changes—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, a few changes!” sneered Will. “Tear down the whole +rotten death-trap and build a new one with light and air and a chance for human +beings to live! Give it to ’em, old man! He may be there tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe I will,” said Michael thoughtfully, the look of winning +beginning to dawn on his speaking face; and he went up to his room and locked +his door. +</p> + +<p> +When he came out again, Will who was waiting to accompany him to the meeting +saw in his eyes the look of the dreamer, the man who sees into the future and +prophesies. He knew that Michael would not fail in his speech that night. He +gave a knowing look to Hester as she came out to go with them and Hester +understood. They walked behind him quietly for the most part, or speaking in +low tones. They felt the pride and the anxiety of the moment as much as if they +had been going to make the speech themselves. The angel in the man had +dominated them also. +</p> + +<p> +Now it happened that Starr had come down with her father for a week’s +shopping the last time he ran up to his sister’s and on this particular +evening she had claimed her father’s society. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you stay at home, Daddy dear?” she asked wistfully. +“I don’t want to go to Aunt Frances’ ‘quiet little +evening’ one bit. I told her you needed me tonight as we’ve only a +day or two more left before I go back.” +</p> + +<p> +Aunt Frances was Starr’s mother’s sister, and as the servants of +the two families agreed mutually, “Just like her, only more so.” +Starr had never been quite happy in her company. +</p> + +<p> +“Come with me for a little while, daughter. I’m sorry I can’t +stay at home all the evening, but I rather promised I’d drop into a +charitable meeting at Madison Square for a few minutes this evening. +They’re counting on my name, I believe. We won’t need to stay long, +and if you’re with, me it will be easier to get away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Agreed!” said Starr eagerly, and got herself ready in a twinkling. +And so it came about that as the roll of martial music poured forth from the +fine instruments secured for the occasion, and the leaders and speakers of the +evening, together with the presidents of this Society, and that Army, or +Settlement, or Organization for the Belief and Benefit of the Poor, filed on to +the great platform, that Starr and her father occupied prominent seats in the +vast audience, and joined in the enthusiasm that spread like a wave before the +great American Flag that burst out in brilliant electric lights of red and +white and blue, a signal that the hour and the moment was come. +</p> + +<p> +Michael came in with the others, as calmly as though he had spent his life +preparing for the public platform. There was fire in his eyes, the fire of +passion for the people of the slums who were his kin. He looked over the +audience with a throb of joy to think he had so mighty an opportunity. His +pulses were not stirred, because he had no consciousness of self in this whole +performance. His subject was to live before the people, he himself was nothing +at all. He had no fear but he could tell them, if that was all they wanted. +Burning sentences hot with the blood of souls had been pouring through his mind +ever since he had decided to talk of his people. He was only in a hurry to +begin lest they would not give him time to tell all he knew! All he knew! Could +it ever be told? It was endless as eternity. +</p> + +<p> +With a strange stirring of her heart Starr recognized him. She felt the color +stealing into her face. She thought her father must notice it, and cast a +furtive glance at him, but he was deep in conversation about some banking +business, so she sat and watched Michael during the opening exercises and +wondered how he came to be there and what was his office in this thing. Did +lawyers get paid for doing something to help along charitable institutions? She +supposed so. He was probably given a seat on the platform for his pains. Yet +she could not help thinking how fine he looked sitting there in the centre, the +place of honor it would seem. How came he there? He was taller than all the +others, whether sitting or standing, and his fine form and bearing made him +exceedingly noticeable. Starr could hear women about her whispering to their +escorts: “Who is he?” and her heart gave strange little throbs to +think that she knew. It seemed odd to her that she should be taken back by the +sight of him now through all the years to that morning in Florida when she had +kissed him in the chapel. Somehow there seemed something sweet and tender in +the memory and she dwelt upon it, while she watched him looking calmly over the +audience, rising and moving to let another pass him, bowing and smiling to a +noted judge who leaned over to grasp his hand. Did young lawyers like that get +to know noted judges? And wherever did he get his grace? There was rhythm and +beauty in his every motion. Starr had never had such a splendid opportunity to +look at him before, for in all that sea of faces she knew hers would be lost to +him, and she might watch him at her will. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, did you know that Michael was up there?” she asked after a +while when her father’s friend went back to his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Michael? No, where? On the platform? I wonder what in the world he is +doing there? He must be mixed up in this thing somehow, I understand he’s +stuck at his mission work. I tried to stop him several years ago. Told him it +would ruin his prospects, but he was too stubborn to give up. So he’s +here!” +</p> + +<p> +And Mr. Endicott searched out Michael and studied the beautiful face keenly, +looking in vain for any marks of degradation or fast living. The head was +lifted with its conquering look; the eyes shone forth like jewels. Michael was +a man, a son—to be proud of, he told himself, and breathed a heavy sigh. +That was one time when his stubbornness had not conquered, and he found himself +glad in spite of himself that it had not. +</p> + +<p> +The opening exercises were mere preliminary speeches and resolutions, mixed +with music, and interspersed by the introduction of the mayor of the city and +one or two other notables who said a few apathetic words of commendation for +the work in hand and retired on their laurels. “I understand this Dr. +Glidden who is to speak is quite an eloquent fellow,” said Starr’s +father as the President got up to introduce the speaker of the evening whom all +had come to hear. “The man who was just talking with me says he is really +worth hearing. If he grows tiresome we will slip out. I wonder which one he is? +He must be that man with the iron-gray hair over there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t want to go out,” said Starr. “I like it. I +never was in a great meeting like this. I like to hear them cheer.” +</p> + +<p> +Her cheeks were rosy, for in her heart she was finding out that she had a great +longing to stay there and watch Michael a little longer. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to have to tell you that our friend and advertised speaker +for the evening was called away by the sudden and serious illness of his +mother, and left for the West on the six o’clock express,” said the +chairman in his inadequate little voice that seemed always straining beyond its +height and never accomplishing anything in the way of being heard. +</p> + +<p> +A sigh of disappointment swept over the part of the audience near enough to the +platform to hear, and some men reached for their hats. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now that’s a pity,” whispered Endicott. “I guess +we better go before they slip in any dry old substitutes. I’ve been seen +here, that’s enough.” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr laid a detaining hand on her father’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a little, Daddy,” she said softly. +</p> + +<p> +“But he has sent a substitute,” went on the chairman, “a man +whom he says is a hundred per cent. better able to talk on the subject than +himself. He spoke to me from the station ’phone just before he left and +told me that he felt that you would all agree he had done well to go when you +had heard the man whom he has sent in his place. I have the pleasure to +introduce to you Mr. Michael Endicott who will speak to you this evening on the +“Needs of the Tenement Dwellers”—Mr. Endicott.” +</p> + +<p> +Amid the silence that ensued after the feebly-polite applause Michael rose. For +just an instant he stood, looking over the audience and a strange subtle thrill +ran over the vast assemblage. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael, insensibly measuring the spacious hall, flung his clear, +beautiful voice out into it, and reached the uttermost bounds of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know that there are in this city now seventy-one thousand eight +hundred and seventy-seven totally dark rooms; some of them connected with an +air-shaft twenty-eight inches wide and seventy feet deep; many of them +absolutely without access to even a dark shaft; and that these rooms are the +only place in the whole wide, beautiful world for thousands of little children, +unless they stay in the street?” +</p> + +<p> +The sentence shot through the audience like a great deliberate bolt of +lightning that crashed through the hearts of the hearers and tore away every +vestige of their complacency. The people sat up and took notice. Starr thrilled +and trembled, she knew not why. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a tenement with rooms like this, a ‘dumb-bell’ +tenement, it is called, in the alley where, for aught I know, I was +born—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” The sound swept over the listeners in a great wave like a sob +of protest. Men and women raised their opera glasses and looked at the speaker +again. They asked one another: “Who is he?” and settled quiet to +hear what more he had to say. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael went on to tell of three dark little rooms in “his” +tenement where a family of eight, accustomed to better things, had been forced +by circumstances to make their home; and where in the dark the germs of +tuberculosis had been silently growing, until the whole family were infected. +He spoke of a little ten-year-old girl, living in one of these little dark +rooms, pushed down on the street by a playmate, an accident that would have +been thought nothing of in a healthy child, but in this little one it produced +tubercular meningitis and after two days of agony the child died. He told of a +delicate girl, who with her brother were the sole wage earners of the family, +working all day, and sewing far into the night to make clothes for the little +brothers and sisters, who had fallen prey to the white plague. +</p> + +<p> +He told instance after instance of sickness and death all resulting from the +terrible conditions in this one tenement, until a delicate, refined looking +woman down in the audience who had dropped in with her husband for a few +minutes on the way to some other gathering, drew her soft mantle about her +shoulders with a shiver and whispered: “Really, Charles, it can’t +be healthy to have such a terrible state of things in the city where we live. I +should think germs would get out and float around to us. Something ought to be +done to clean such low creatures out of a decent community. Do let’s go +now. I don’t feel as if I could listen to another word. I shan’t be +able to enjoy the reception.” +</p> + +<p> +But the husband sat frowning and listening to the end of the speech, +vouchsafing to her whisper only the single growl: +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be a fool, Selina!” +</p> + +<p> +On and on Michael went, literally taking his audience with him, through room +after room of “his” tenement, showing them horrors they had never +dreamed; giving them now and again a glimmer of light when he told of a +curtained window with fifteen minutes of sun every morning, where a little +cripple sat to watch for her sunbeam, and push her pot of geraniums along the +sill that it might have the entire benefit of its brief shining. He put the +audience into peals of laughter over the wit of some poor creatures in certain +trying situations, showing that a sense of humor is not lacking in “the +other half”; and then set them weeping over a little baby’s +funeral. +</p> + +<p> +He told them forcibly how hard the workers were trying to clean out and improve +this terrible state of things. How cruelly slow the owner of this particular +tenement was even to cut windows into dark air shafts; how so far it had been +impossible to discover the name of the true owner of the building, because he +had for years successfully hidden behind agents who held the building in trust. +</p> + +<p> +The speech closed in a mighty appeal to the people of New York to rise up in a +mass and wipe out this curse of the tenements, and build in their places light, +airy, clean, wholesome dwellings, where people might live and work and learn +the lessons of life aright, and where sin could find no dark hole in which to +hatch her loathsome offspring. +</p> + +<p> +As Michael sat down amid a burst of applause such as is given to few speakers, +another man stepped to the front of the platform; and the cheers of +commendation were hushed somewhat, only to swell and break forth again; for +this man was one of the city’s great minds, and always welcome on any +platform. He had been asked to make the final appeal for funds for the +playgrounds. It had been considered a great stroke of luck on the part of the +committee to secure him. +</p> + +<p> +“My friends,” said he when the hush came at last and he could be +heard, “I appreciate your feelings. I would like to spend the remainder +of the night in applauding the man who has just finished speaking.” +</p> + +<p> +The clamor showed signs of breaking forth again: +</p> + +<p> +“This man has spoken well because he has spoken from his heart. And he +has told us that he knows whereof he speaks, for he has lived in those tenement +rooms himself, one of the little children like those for whom he pleads. I am +told that he has given almost every evening for four years out of a busy life +which is just opening into great promise, to help these people of his. I am +reminded as I have been listening to him of Lanier’s wonderful poem, +‘The Marshes of Glynn.’ Do you recall it? +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“‘Ye spread and span like the catholic man who hath mightily +won<br> +God out of knowledge, and good out of infinite pain,<br> +And sight out of blindness, and purity out of a stain.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get to work at once and do our duty. I see you do not need +urging. My friends, if such a man as this, a prince among men, can come out of +the slums, then the slums are surely worth redeeming.” +</p> + +<p> +The audience thundered and clamored and thundered again; women sobbed openly, +while the ushers hurried about collecting the eager offerings of the people, +for Michael had won the day and everybody was ready to give. It sort of helped +to get the burden of such a state of things off their consciences. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had sat through the whole speech with glowing cheeks and lashes wet. Her +heart throbbed with wonder and a kind of personal pride in Michael. Somehow all +the years that had passed between seemed to have dropped away and she saw +before her the boy who had told her of the Florida sunset, and filled her with +childish admiration over his beautiful thoughts. His story appealed to her. The +lives of the little ones about whom he had been telling were like his poor +neglected existence before her father took him up; the little lonely life that +had been freely offered to save her own. +</p> + +<p> +She forgot now all that had passed between, her anger at his not coming to +ride; and after her return from abroad, not coming to call; nor accepting her +invitations; her rage at his interference in her affairs. Her persistence in +her own folly seemed now unspeakable. She was ashamed of herself. The tears +were streaming down her cheeks, but of this she was quite unaware. +</p> + +<p> +When the speeches were over and the uproar of applause had somewhat subsided, +Starr turned to her father her face aglow, her lashes still dewy with tears. +Her father had been silent and absorbed. His face was inscrutable now. He had a +way of masking his emotions even to those who knew him best. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, dear,” whispered Starr, “couldn’t we buy that +tenement and build it over? I should so love to give those little children +happy homes.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned and looked at his treasured child, her lovely face all +eagerness now. She had infinite faith in her father’s ability to purchase +anything she wanted. The father himself had been deeply stirred. He looked at +her searchingly at first; then yearningly, tenderly, but his voice was almost +gruff as he said: +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I’ll see about it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t you let Michael know now, daddy? I think it would be such +a help to him to know that his speech has done some good.” The voice was +very sweet and appealing. “Couldn’t you send him word by one of the +ushers?” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I suppose I could.” Endicott took out his fountain pen +and a business card, and began to write. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t suppose, daddy, that the owner will object to selling? +There won’t be any trouble about it that way, will there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t think there’ll be any trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott slipped the card into an envelope he found in his pocket and calling +an usher asked him to take it to the platform to Michael. What he had written +was this: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I suppose you have been talking about my property. Pull the tenement down if +you like and build a model one. I’ll foot the bills. D.E. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael, surprised at receiving a communication on the platform, tore the +envelope open and read, his face fairly blazed with glory. Starr was watching +him, and her heart gave a queer little throb of pleasure at the light in his +eyes. The next instant he was on his feet, and with a whispered word to the +chairman, came to the front of the platform. His raised hand brought instant +silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I have good news. May I share it with you? The owner of that tenement is +in this house, and has sent me word that he will tear it down and build a model +one in its place!” +</p> + +<p> +The ring in Michael’s voice, and the light on his face was equivalent to +a dozen votes of thanks. The audience rose to its feet and cheered: +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy! Oh, daddy! Are you the owner?” There was astonishment, +reproof, excuse, and forgiveness all mingled in Starr’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Come Starr,” said her father abruptly, “we’d better go +home. This is a hot noisy place and I’m tired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy dear! Of course you didn’t know how things were!” said +Starr sweetly. “You didn’t, did you, daddy?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t know,” said Endicott evasively, “that +Michael has a great gift of gab! Would you like to stop and have an ice +somewhere, daughter?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, daddy, I’d rather go home and plan how to make over that +tenement. I don’t believe I’d enjoy an ice after what I’ve +heard tonight. Why is it some people have so much more than others to start +with?” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! Deep question, child, better not trouble your brains with +it,” and Starr saw that her father, though deeply moved, did not wish to +discuss the matter. +</p> + +<p> +The next day Michael called at Endicott’s office but did not find him in, +and wrote a letter out of the overwhelming joy of his heart, asking permission +to call and thank his benefactor and talk over plans. The following day he +received the curt reply: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Son:—Make your plans to suit yourself. Don’t spare expense within +reason. No thanks needed. I did it for Starr. You made a good speech. +</p> + +<p> +Michael choked down his disappointment over this rebuff, and tried to take all +the joy of it. He was not forgiven yet. He might not enter the sacred precincts +of intercourse again; but he was beloved. He could not help feeling that, +because of that “Son” with which the communication began. And the +grudging praise his speech received was more to Michael than all the adulation +that people had been showering upon him since the night of the mass meeting. +But Starr! Starr knew about it. He did it for Starr! She had wanted it! She had +perhaps been there! She must have been there, or how else would she have known? +The thought thrilled him, and thrilled him anew! Oh, if he might have seen her +before him! But then perhaps he would not have been able to tell his story, and +so it was just as well. But Starr was interested in his work, his plans! What a +wonderful thing to have her work with him even in this indirect way. Oh, if +some day! If—! +</p> + +<p> +But right here Michael shut down his thoughts and went to work. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap26"></a>Chapter XXVI</h3> + +<p> +Late in January Michael was taking his nightly walk homeward by way of the +Endicott home. He was convinced that Starr was still away from home, for he had +seen no lights now for several weeks in the room that he knew was her own, but +there was always the chance that she might have returned. +</p> + +<p> +He was nearing the house when he saw from the opposite direction a man turn the +corner and with halting gait come slowly toward the house and pause before the +steps uncertainly. Something familiar in the man’s attitude caused +Michael to hasten his steps, and coming closer he found that it was Mr. +Endicott himself, and that he stood looking up the steps of his home as though +they had been a difficult hill which he must climb. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stopped beside him, saying good evening, the thrill of his voice +conveying his own joy in the meeting in addition to a common greeting. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that you, Son?” asked the older man swaying slightly toward +him. “I’m glad you came. I feel strangely dizzy. I wish you’d +help me in.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s arm was about the other’s shoulders at once and his ready +strength almost lifted his benefactor up the steps. His steady hand with the +key made short work of the night latch, and without waiting to call a servant +he helped Mr. Endicott up to his room and to his bed. +</p> + +<p> +The man sank back wearily with a sigh and closed his eyes, then suddenly roused +himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Son; and will you send a message to Starr that I am not able +to come on tonight as I promised? Tell her I’ll likely be all right +tomorrow and will try to come then. You’ll find the address at the head +of the telephone list in the hall there. I guess you’ll have to +’phone for the doctor. I don’t seem to feel like myself. There must +be something the matter. I think I’ve taken a heavy cold.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael hurried to the ’phone and called up the physician begging him to +come at once, for he could see that Mr. Endicott was very ill. His voice +trembled as he gave the message to the Western Union over the ’phone. It +seemed almost like talking to Starr, though he sent the telegram in her +father’s name. +</p> + +<p> +The message sent, he hurried back to the sick man, who seemed to have fallen in +a sort of stupor. His face was flushed and hot, the veins in his temples and +neck were throbbing rapidly. In all his healthy life Michael had seen little of +illness, but he recognized it now and knew it must be a violent attack. If only +he knew something to do until the doctor should arrive! +</p> + +<p> +Hot water used to be the universal remedy for all diseases at college. The +matron always had some one bring hot water when anyone was ill. Michael went +downstairs to find a servant, but they must all be asleep, for he had been +unusually late in leaving the alley that night. +</p> + +<p> +However, he found that the bath-room would supply plenty of hot water, so he +set to work to undress his patient, wrap him in a blanket and soak his feet in +hot water. But the patient showed signs of faintness, and was unable to sit up. +A footbath under such conditions was difficult to administer. The unaccustomed +nurse got his patient into bed again with arduous labor, and was just wondering +what to do next when the doctor arrived. +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched the grave face of the old doctor as he examined the sick man, +and knew that his intuitions had been right. Mr. Endicott was very seriously +ill. The doctor examined his patient with deliberation, his face growing more +and more serious. At last he stepped out of the room and motioned Michael to +follow him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a relative, young man?” he asked looking at Michael +keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, only one who is very much indebted to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s lucky for him if you feel that indebtedness now. Do you +know what is the matter with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael. “He looks pretty sick to me. What is +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Smallpox!” said the doctor laconically, “and a tough case at +that.” Then he looked keenly at the fine specimen of manhood before him, +noting with alert eye that there had been no blanching of panic in the +beautiful face, no slightest movement as if to get out of the room. The young +man was not a coward, anyway. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been with him?” he asked abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Since I telephoned you,” said Michael, “I happened to be +passing the house and saw him trying to get up the steps alone. He was dizzy, +he said, and seemed glad to have me come to his help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been vaccinated?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +“The wisest thing for you to do would be to get out of the room at once +and let me vaccinate you. I’ll try to send a nurse to look after him as +soon as possible. Where are the family? Not at home? And the servants will +probably scatter as soon as they learn what’s the matter. A pity he +hadn’t been taken to the hospital, but it’s hardly safe to move him +now. The fact is he is a very sick man, and there’s only one chance in a +hundred of saving him. You’ve run some big risks, taking care of him this +way—” +</p> + +<p> +“Any bigger than you are running, doctor?” Michael smiled gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! Well, it’s my business, and I don’t suppose it is +yours. There are people who are paid for those things. Come get out of this +room or I won’t answer for the consequences.” +</p> + +<p> +“The consequences will have to answer for themselves, doctor. I’m +going to stay here till somebody better comes to nurse him.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes did not flinch as he said this. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you take the disease?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled, one of his brilliant smiles that you could almost hear it was +so bright. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then I will,” said Michael, “but I’ll stay well +long enough to take care of him until the nurse comes anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“You might die!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” In a tone with not a ruffle in the calm purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s my duty to tell you that you’d probably be +throwing your life away, for there’s only a chance that he won’t +die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not throwing it away if I made him suffer a little less. And you said +there was a chance. If I didn’t stay he might miss that chance, +mightn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I do anything to help or ease him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I stay. I should stay anyway until some one came. I couldn’t +leave him so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then. I’m proud to know a man like you. There’s +plenty to be done. Let’s get to work.” +</p> + +<p> +The hour that followed was filled with instructions and labor. Michael had no +time to think what would become of his work, or anything. He only knew that +this was the present duty and he went forward in it step by step. Before the +doctor left he vaccinated Michael, and gave him careful directions how to take +all necessary precautions for his own safety; but he knew from the lofty look +in the young man’s face, that these were mere secondary considerations +with him. If the need came for the sake of the patient, all precautions would +be flung aside as not mattering one whit. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor roused the servants and told them what had happened, and tried to +persuade them to stay quietly in their places, and he would see that they ran +no risks if they obeyed his directions. But to a man and a woman they were +panic stricken; gathering their effects, they, like the Arabs of old, folded +their tents and silently stole away in the night. Before morning dawned Michael +and his patient were in sole possession of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the morning there came a call from the doctor. He had not been able to +secure the nurse he hoped to get. Could Michael hold the fort a few hours +longer? He would relieve him sooner if possible, but experienced nurses for +contagious cases were hard to get just now. There was a great deal of sickness. +He might be able to get one this morning but it was doubtful. He had telephoned +everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +Of course Michael would hold the fort. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor gave explicit directions, asked a number of questions, and promised +to call as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, alone in the great silence that the occasional babble of a delirious +person emphasizes in an otherwise empty house, began to think of things that +must be done. Fortunately there was a telephone in the room. He would not have +to leave his patient alone. He called up Will French and told him in a few +words what had happened; laughed pleasantly at Will’s fears for him; +asked him to look after the alley work and to attend to one or two little +matters connected with his office work which could not be put off. Then he +called up Sam at the farm, for Michael had long ago found it necessary to have +a telephone put in at Old Orchard. +</p> + +<p> +The sound of Sam’s voice cheered his heart, when, after Michael’s +brief simple explanation of his present position as trained nurse for the head +of the house of Endicott who lay sick of smallpox, Sam responded with a +dismayed “Fer de lub o’ Mike!” +</p> + +<p> +When Michael had finished all his directions to Sam, and received his +partner’s promise to do everything just as Michael would have done it, +Sam broke out with: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, does dat ike know what he’s takin’ off’n +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who? Mr. Endicott? No, Sam, he doesn’t know anything. He’s +delirious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ummm!” grunted Sam deeply troubled. “Well, he better +fin’ out wen he gets hisself agin er there’ll be sompin’ +comin’ to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s done a great deal for me, Sam.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ummm! Well, you’re gettin’ it back on him sure thing now, +all right. Say, you t’ care o’ yer’se’f, Mikky! We-all +can’t do nothin’ w’th’ut yer. You lemme know every day +how you be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure Sam!” responded Michael deeply touched by the choking sound +of Sam’s voice. “Don’t you worry. I’m sound as a nut. +Nothing’ll happen to me. The doctor vaccinated me, and I’ll not +catch it. You look after things for me and I’ll be on deck again some day +all the better for the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat back in the chair after hanging up the receiver, his eyes +glistening with moisture. To think the day had come when Sam should care like +that! It was a miracle. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went back again to the bed to look after his patient, and after he had +done everything that the doctor had said, he decided to reconnoitre for some +breakfast. There must be something in the house to eat even if the servants had +all departed, and he ought to eat so that his strength should be equal to his +task. +</p> + +<p> +It was late in the morning, nearly half-past ten. The young man hurried +downstairs and began to ransack the pantry. He did not want to be long away +from the upper room. Once, as he was stooping to search the refrigerator for +butter and milk he paused in his work and thought he heard a sound at the front +door, but then all seemed still, and he hurriedly put a few things on a tray +and carried them upstairs. He might not be able to come down again for several +hours. But when he reached the top of the stairs he heard a voice, not his +patient’s, but a woman’s voice, sweet and clear and troubled: +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy! Oh, daddy dear! Why don’t you speak to your little girl? +What is the matter? Can’t you understand me? Your face and your poor +hands are so hot, they burn me. Daddy, daddy dear!” +</p> + +<p> +It was Starr’s voice and Michael’s heart stood still with the +thrill of it, and the instant horror of it. Starr was in there in the room of +death with her father. She was exposed to the terrible contagion; she, the +beautiful, frail treasure of his heart! +</p> + +<p> +He set the tray down quickly on the hall table and went swiftly to the door. +</p> + +<p> +She sat on the side of the bed, her arms about her father’s unconscious +form and her head buried in his neck, sobbing. +</p> + +<p> +For an instant Michael was frozen to the spot with horror at her dangerous +situation. If she had wanted to take the disease she could not have found a +more sure way of exposing herself. +</p> + +<p> +The next instant Michael’s senses came back and without stopping to think +he sprang forward and caught her up in his arms, bearing her from the room and +setting her down at the bath-room door. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Starr! what have you done!” he said, a catch in his voice like +a sob, for he did not know what he was saying. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, frightened, struggling, sobbing, turned and looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Michael! How did you come to be here? Oh, what is the matter with my +father?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go wash your hands and face quickly with this antiseptic soap,” he +commanded, all on the alert now, and dealing out the things the doctor had +given him for his own safety, “and here! rinse your mouth with this +quickly, and gargle your throat! Then go and change your things as quick as you +can. Your father has the smallpox and you have been in there close to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“The smallpox!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry!” commanded Michael, handing her the soap and turning on the +hot water. +</p> + +<p> +Starr obeyed him because when Michael spoke in that tone people always did +obey, but her frightened eyes kept seeking his face for some reassurance. +</p> + +<p> +“The smallpox! Oh, Michael! How dreadful! But how do you know? Has the +doctor been here? And how did you happen to be here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was passing last night when your father came home and he asked me to +help him in. Yes, the doctor was here, and will soon come again and bring a +nurse. Now hurry! You must get away from the vicinity of this room!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’m not going away!” said Starr stubbornly. +“I’m going to stay by my father. He’ll want me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your father would be distressed beyond measure if he knew that you were +exposed to such terrible danger. I know that he would far rather have you go +away at once. Besides, he is delirious, and your presence cannot do him any +good now. You must take care of yourself, so that when he gets well you will be +well too, and able to help him get back into health again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you are staying.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does not matter about me,” said Michael, “there is no one +to care. Besides, I am a man, and perfectly strong. I do not think I will take +the disease. Now please take off those things you wore in there and get +something clean that has not been in the room and go away from here as quickly +as you can.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had barely persuaded her to take precautions when the doctor arrived +with a nurse and the promise of another before night. +</p> + +<p> +He scolded Starr thoroughly for her foolhardiness in going into her +father’s room. He had been the family physician ever since she was born, +knew her well; and took the privilege of scolding when he liked. Starr meekly +succumbed. There was just one thing she would not do, and that was to go away +out of the house while her father remained in so critical a condition. The +doctor frowned and scolded, but finally agreed to let her stay. And indeed it +seemed as if perhaps it was the only thing that could be done; for she had +undoubtedly been exposed to the disease, and was subject to quarantine. There +seemed to be no place to which she could safely go, where she could be +comfortable, and the house was amply large enough for two or three parties to +remain in quarantine in several detachments. +</p> + +<p> +There was another question to be considered. The nurses would have their hands +full with their patient. Some one must stay in the house and look after things, +see that they needed nothing, and get some kind of meals. Starr, of course, +knew absolutely nothing about cooking, and Michael’s experience was +limited to roasting sweet potatoes around a bonfire at college, and cooking +eggs and coffee at the fireplace on the farm. But a good cook to stay in a +plague-stricken dwelling would be a thing of time, if procurable at all; so the +doctor decided to accept the willing services of these two. Starr was +established in her own room upstairs, which could be shut away from the front +part of the house by a short passage-way and two doors, with access to the +lower floor by means of the back stairs; and Michael made a bed of the soft +couch in the tiny reception room where he had twice passed through trying +experiences. Great curtains kept constantly wet with antiseptics shut away the +sick room and adjoining apartments from the rest of the house. +</p> + +<p> +It was arranged that Michael should place such supplies as were needed at the +head of the stairs, just outside the guarding curtains, and the nurses should +pass all dishes through an antiseptic bath before sending them downstairs +again. The electric bells and telephones with which the house was well supplied +made it possible for them to communicate with one another without danger of +infection. +</p> + +<p> +Starr was at once vaccinated and the two young people received many +precautions, and injunctions, with medicine and a strict régime; and even then +the old doctor shook his head dubiously. If those two beautiful faces should +have to pass through the ordeal of that dread disease his old heart would be +quite broken. All that skill and science could do to prevent it should be done. +</p> + +<p> +So the house settled down to the quiet of a daily routine; the busy city +humming and thundering outside, but no more a part of them than if they had +been living in a tomb. The card of warning on the door sent all the neighbors +in the block scurrying off in a panic to Palm Beach or Europe; and even the +strangers passed by on the other side. The grocery boy and the milkman left +their orders hurriedly on the front steps and Michael and Starr might almost +have used the street for an exercise ground if they had chosen, so deserted had +it become. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no need for them to go farther than the door in front, for there +was a lovely side and back yard, screened from the street by a high wall, where +they might walk at will when they were not too busy with their work; which for +their unskilled hands was hard and laborious. Nevertheless, their orders were +strict, and every day they were out for a couple of hours at least. To keep +from getting chilled, Michael invented all sorts of games when they grew tired +of just walking; and twice after a new fall of snow they went out and had a +game of snowballing, coming in with glowing faces and shining eyes, to change +wet garments and hurry back to their kitchen work. But this was after the first +few serious days were passed, and the doctor had given them hope that if all +went well there was a good chance of the patient pulling through. +</p> + +<p> +They settled into their new life like two children who had known each other a +long time. All the years between were as if they had not been. They made their +blunders; were merry over their work; and grew into each other’s +companionship charmingly. Their ideas of cooking were most primitive and had it +not been possible to order things sent in from caterers they and the nurses +might have been in danger of starving to death. But as it was, what with +telephoning to the nurses for directions, and what with studying the recipes on +the outside of boxes of cornstarch and farina and oatmeal and the like that +they found in the pantry, they were learning day by day to do a little more. +</p> + +<p> +And then, one blessed day, the dear nurse Morton walked in and took off her +things and stayed. Morton had been on a long-delayed visit to her old father in +Scotland that winter; but when she saw in the papers the notice of the calamity +that had befallen the house of her old employer, she packed her trunk and took +the first steamer back to America. Her baby, and her baby’s father needed +her, and nothing could keep Morton away after that. +</p> + +<p> +Her coming relieved the situation very materially, for though she had never +been a fancy cook, she knew all about good old-fashioned Scotch dishes, and +from the first hour took up her station in the kitchen. Immediately comfort and +orderliness began to reign, and Starr and Michael had time on their hands that +was not spent in either eating, sleeping, working or exercise. +</p> + +<p> +It was then that they began to read together, for the library was filled with +all the treasures of literature, to many of which Michael had never had access +save through the public libraries, which of course was not as satisfactory as +having books at hand when one had a bit of leisure in a busy life. Starr had +been reading more than ever before this winter while with her aunt, and entered +into the pleasant companionship of a book together with zest. +</p> + +<p> +Then there were hours when Starr played softly, and sang, for the piano was far +from the sick room and could not be heard upstairs. Indeed, if it had not been +for the anxious struggle going on upstairs, these two would have been having a +beautiful time. +</p> + +<p> +For all unknowing to themselves they were growing daily into a dear delight in +the mere presence of one another. Even Michael, who had long ago laid down the +lines between which he must walk through life, and never expected to be more to +Starr than a friend and protector, did not realize whither this intimate +companionship was tending. When he thought of it at all he thought that it was +a precious solace for his years of loneliness; a time that must be enjoyed to +the full, and treasured in memory for the days of barrenness that must surely +follow. +</p> + +<p> +Upstairs the fight went on day after day, until at last one morning the doctor +told them that it had been won, that the patient, though very much enfeebled, +would live and slowly get back his strength. +</p> + +<p> +That was a happy morning. The two caught each, other’s hands and whirled +joyously round the dining-room when they heard it; and Morton came in with her +sleeves rolled up, and her eyes like two blue lakes all blurred with raindrops +in the sunlight. Her face seemed like a rainbow. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning the doctor looked the two over before he went upstairs and set +a limit to their quarantine. If they kept on doing well they would be +reasonably safe from taking the disease. It would be a miracle, almost, if +neither of them took it; but it began to look as if they were going to be all +right. +</p> + +<p> +Now these two had been so absorbed in one another that they had thought very +little about the danger of their taking the disease themselves. If either had +been alone in the house with nothing to do but brood it would have probably +been the sole topic of thought, but their healthy busy hours had helped the +good work on, and so they were coming safely out from under the danger. +</p> + +<p> +It was one bright morning when they were waiting for the doctor to come that +Michael was glancing over the morning paper, and Starr trying a new song she +had sent for that had just come in the mail the evening before. She wanted to +be able to play it for Michael to sing. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly Michael gave a little exclamation of dismay, and Starr, turning on the +piano stool, saw that his face was white and he was staring out of the window +with a drawn, sad look about his mouth and eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” she asked in quick, eager tones of sympathy, and +Michael turning to look at her vivid beauty, his heart thrilling with the sound +of her voice, suddenly felt the wide gulf that had always been between them, +for what he had read in the paper had shaken him from his happy dream and +brought him back to a sudden realization of what he was. +</p> + +<p> +The item in the paper that had brought about this rude awakening was an account +of how Buck had broken jail and escaped. Michael’s great heart was filled +with trouble about Buck; and instantly he remembered that he belonged to the +same class with Buck; and not at all in the charmed circle where Starr moved. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the girl with grave, tender eyes, that yet seemed to be less +intimate than they had been all these weeks. Her sensitive nature felt the +difference at once. +</p> + +<p> +He let her read the little item. +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s face softened with ready sympathy, and a mingling of indignation. +“He was one of those people in your tenements you have been trying to +help?” she questioned, trying to understand his look. “He ought to +have been ashamed to get into jail after you had been helping him. Wasn’t +he a sort of a worthless fellow?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael in quick defense, “he never had a chance. +And he was not just one of those people, he was <i>the</i> one. He was the boy +who took care of me when I was a little fellow, and who shared everything he +had, hard crust or warm cellar door, with me. I think he loved me—” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in Michael’s face and voice that warned Starr these +were sacred precincts, where she must tread lightly if she did not wish to +desecrate. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me about him,” she breathed softly. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael, his eyes tender, his voice gentle, because she had cared to know, +told her eloquently of Buck, till when he had finished her eyes were wet with +tears; and she looked so sweet that he had to turn his own eyes away to keep +from taking the lovely vision into his arms and kissing her. It was a strange +wild impulse he had to do this, and it frightened him. Suppose some day he +should forget himself, and let her see how he had dared to love her? That must +never be. He must put a watch upon himself. This sweet friendship she had +vouchsafed him must never be broken by word, look or action of his. +</p> + +<p> +And from that morning there came upon his manner a change, subtle, +intangible,—but a change. +</p> + +<p> +They read and talked together, and Michael opened his heart to her as he had +not yet done, about his work in the alley, his farm colony, and his hopes for +his people; Starr listened and entered eagerly into his plans, yet felt the +change that had come upon him, and her troubled spirit knew not what it was. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap27"></a>Chapter XXVII</h3> + +<p> +All this while Michael had been in daily communication with Sam, as well as +with Will French, who with Hester’s help had kept the rooms in the alley +going, though they reported that the head had been sorely missed. +</p> + +<p> +Sam had reported daily progress with the house and about two weeks before +Michael’s release from quarantine announced that everything was done, +even to the papering of the walls and oiling of the floors. +</p> + +<p> +A fire had been burning in the furnace and fireplaces for several weeks, so the +plaster was thoroughly dry, and it was Michael’s plan that Starr and her +father were to go straight down to the farm as soon as they were free to leave +the house. +</p> + +<p> +To this end Hester and Will had been given daily commissions to purchase this +and that needful article of furniture, until now at last Michael felt that the +house would be habitable for Starr and her precious invalid. +</p> + +<p> +During the entire winter Michael had pleased himself in purchasing rugs here +and there, and charming, fitting, furniture for the house he was building. A +great many things,—the important things,—had already been selected, +and Michael knew he could trust Hester’s taste for the rest. For some +reason he had never said much to Starr about either Hester or Will, perhaps +because they had always seemed to him to belong to one another, and thus were +somewhat set apart from his own life. +</p> + +<p> +But one morning, Starr, coming into the library where Michael was telephoning +Hester about some last purchases she was making, overheard these words: +“All right Hester, you’ll know best of course, but I think you +better make it a dozen instead of a half. It’s better to have too many +than too few; and we might have company, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, of course, Starr couldn’t possibly be supposed to know that it was a +question of dishes that was being discussed so intimately. In fact, she did not +stop to think what they were talking about; she only knew that he had called +this other girl “Hester”; and she suddenly became aware that during +all these weeks of pleasant intercourse, although she had addressed him as +Michael, he had carefully avoided using any name at all for her, except on one +or two occasions, substituting pronouns wherever possible. She had not noticed +this before, but when she heard that “Hester” in his pleasant +tones, her heart, brought the fact before her at once for invoice. Who was this +girl Hester? And why was she Hestered so carelessly as though he had a right? +Could it be possible that Michael was engaged to her? Why had she never thought +of it before? Of course it would be perfectly natural. This other girl had been +down in his dear alley, working shoulder to shoulder with him all these years, +and it was a matter of course that he must love her, Starr’s bright +morning that but a moment before had been filled with so much sunshine seemed +suddenly to cloud over with a blackness that blotted out all the joy; and +though she strove to hide it even from herself, her spirit was heavy with +something she did not understand. +</p> + +<p> +That evening Michael came into the library unexpectedly. He had been out in the +kitchen helping Morton to open a box that was refractory. He found the room +entirely dark, and thought he heard a soft sound like sobbing in one corner of +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Starr!” he said. “Starr, is that you?” nor knew that +he had called her by her name, though she knew it very well indeed. She kept +quite still for an instant, and then she rose from the little crumpled heap in +the corner of the leather couch where she had dropped for a minute in the dark +to cry out the strange ache of her heart when she thought Michael was safely in +the kitchen for a while. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes, Michael!” she said, and her voice sounded choky, though +she was struggling to make it natural. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stepped to the doorway and turned on the hall lights so that he could +dimly see her little figure standing in the shadow. Then he came over toward +her, his whole heart yearning over her, but a mighty control set upon himself. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter—dear?” He breathed the last word almost +under his breath. He actually did not realize that he had spoken it aloud. It +seemed to envelope her with a deep tenderness. It broke her partial +self-control entirely and she sobbed again for a minute before she could speak. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, if he but dared to take that dear form into his arms and comfort her! If he +but dared! But he had no right! +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still and struggled with his heart, standing quite near her, yet +not touching her. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my dear!” he breathed to himself, in an agony of love and +self-restraint. But she did not hear the breath. She was engaged in a struggle +of her own, and she seemed to remember that Hester-girl, and know her duty. She +must not let him see how she felt, not for anything in the world. He was kind +and tender. He had always been. He had denied himself and come here to stay +with them in their need because of his gratitude toward her father for all he +had done for him; and he had breathed that “dear” as he would have +done to any little child of the tenement whom he found in trouble. Oh, she +understood, even while she let the word comfort her lonely heart. Why, oh why +had she been left to trifle with a handsome scoundrel? Why hadn’t she +been worthy to have won the love of a great man like this one? +</p> + +<p> +These thoughts rushed through her brain so rapidly that they were not +formulated at all. Not until hours afterward did she know they had been +thought; but afterwards she sorted them out and put them in array before her +troubled heart. +</p> + +<p> +A minute she struggled with her tears, and then in a sweet little voice, like a +tired, naughty child she broke out: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Michael, you’ve been so good to me—to us, I +mean—staying here all these weeks and not showing a bit of impatience +when you had all that great work in the world to do—and I’ve just +been thinking how perfectly horrid I was to you last winter—the things I +said and wrote to you—and how I treated you when you were trying to save +me from an awful fate! I’m so ashamed, and so thankful! It all came over +me tonight what I owed you, and I can’t ever thank you. Can you forgive +me for the horrid way I acted, and for passing you on the street that Sunday +without speaking to you—I’m so ashamed! Will you forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +She put out her little hands with a pathetic motion toward him in the half +light of the room, and he took them in both his great warm ones and held them +in his firm grasp, his whole frame thrilling with her sweet touch. +“Forgive you, little Starr!” he breathed—“I never +blamed you—” And there is no telling what might not have happened +if the doctor had not just then unexpectedly arrived to perfect the +arrangements for their going to the farm. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael returned from letting the doctor out, Starr had fled upstairs to +her room; when they met the next morning it was with the bustle of preparation +upon them; and each cast shy smiling glances toward the other. Starr knew that +she was forgiven, but she also knew that there was a wall reared between them +that had not been there before, and her heart ached with the knowledge. +Nevertheless, it was a happy morning, and one could not be absolutely miserable +in the company of Michael, with a father who was recovering rapidly, and the +prospect of seeing him and going with him into the beautiful out-of-doors +within a few hours. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went about the work of preparing to go with a look of solemn joy. +Solemn because he felt that the wonderful companionship he had had alone with +Starr was so soon to end. Joyful because he could be with her still and know +she had passed through the danger of the terrible disease and come safely out +of the shadow with her beauty as vivid as ever. Besides, he might always serve +her, and they were friends now, not enemies—that was a great deal! +</p> + +<p> +The little world of Old Orchard stood on tiptoe that lovely spring morning when +the party came down. The winding road that led to the cottage was arched all +over with bursting bloom, for the apple trees had done their best at decorating +for the occasion and made a wondrous canopy of pink and white for Starr to see +as she passed under. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul was in sight as they drove up to the cottage save Sam, standing +respectfully to receive them in front of the piazza, and Lizzie, vanishing +around the corner of the cottage with her pretty boy toddling after—for +Lizzie had come down to be a waitress at Rose Cottage for the summer;—but +every soul on the farm was watching at a safe distance. For Sam, without +breathing a word, had managed to convey to them all the knowledge that those +who were coming as their guests were beloved of Michael, their angel-hearted +man. As though it had been a great ceremony they stood in silent, adoring +groups behind a row of thick hedges and watched them arrive, each one glorying +in the beauty of her whom in their hearts they called “the boss’s +girl.” +</p> + +<p> +The room stood wide and inviting to receive them. There was a fire of logs on +the great hearth, and a deep leather chair drawn up before it, with a smaller +rocker at one side, and a sumptuous leather coach for the invalid just to the +side of the fireplace, where the light of the flames would not strike the eyes, +yet the warmth would reach him. Soft greens and browns were blended in the silk +pillows that were piled on the couch and on the seats that appeared here and +there about the walls as if they grew by nature. The book-case was filled with +Michael’s favorites, Will French had seen to this, and a few were +scattered on the big table where a green shaded lamp of unique design, a +freshly cut magazine, and a chair drawn at just the right angle suggested a +pleasant hour in the evening. There were two or three pictures—these +Michael had selected at intervals as he learned to know more about art from his +study at the exhibitions. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” breathed Starr. “How lovely! It is a real home!” +and the thought struck her that it would probably be Michael’s and +Hester’s some day. However, she would not let shadows come spoiling her +good time now, for it <i>was</i> her good time and she had a right to it; and +she too was happy in the thought that she and Michael were friends, the kind of +friends that can never be enemies again. +</p> + +<p> +The invalid sank into the cushions of the couch with a pleased light in his +eyes and said: “Son, this is all right. I’m glad you bought the +farm,” and Michael turned with a look of love to the man who had been the +only father he had ever known. It was good, good to be reconciled with him, and +to know that he was on the road to health once more. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor who had come down with them looked about with satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see but you are fixed,” he said to Endicott. +“I wouldn’t mind being in your shoes myself. Wish I could stay and +help you enjoy yourself. If I had a pair of children like those I’d give +up work and come buy a farm alongside, and settle down for life.” +</p> + +<p> +The days at the farm passed in a sort of charmed existence for Starr and her +father. Everything they needed seemed to come as if by magic. Every wish of +Starr’s was anticipated, and she was waited upon devotedly by Lizzie, who +never by so much as a look tried to win recognition. Starr, however, always +keen in her remembrances, knew and appreciated this. +</p> + +<p> +After the first two days Michael was back and forth in the city. His business, +which had been steadily growing before his temporary retirement from the world, +had piled up and was awaiting his attention. His work in the alley called +loudly for him every night, yet he managed to come down to the farm often and +spent all his Sundays there. +</p> + +<p> +It was one Saturday evening about three weeks after their arrival at the farm, +when they were all seated cosily in the living room of the cottage, the invalid +resting on the couch in the shadow, Starr seated close beside him, the +firelight glowing on her face, her hand in her father’s; and Michael by +the table with, a fresh magazine which he was about to read to them, that a +knock came at the door. +</p> + +<p> +Opening the door, Michael found Sam standing on the piazza, and another dark +form huddled behind Him. +</p> + +<p> +“Come out here, can’t yer, Buck’s here!” whispered Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck!” Michael spoke the word with a joyful ring that thrilled +Starr’s heart with sympathy as she sat listening, her ears alert with +interest. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so glad! So glad!” said Michael’s voice again, +vibrant with real welcome. “Come in, Buck, I’ve a friend in here +who knows all about you. No, don’t be afraid. You’re perfectly +safe. What? Through the windows? Well, we’ll turn the light out and sit +in the firelight. You can go over in that corner by the fireplace. No one will +see you. The shades are down.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s voice was low, and he stood within the doorway, but Starr, +because she understood the need, heard every word. +</p> + +<p> +There was dissent in a low whisper outside, and then Sam’s voice growled, +“Go on in, Buck, ef he says so.” and Buck reluctantly entered, +followed by Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was respectably dressed in an old suit of Sam’s, with his hands and +face carefully washed and his hair combed. Sam had imbibed ideas and was not +slow to impart them. But Buck stood dark and frowning against the closed door, +his hunted eyes like black coals in a setting of snow, went furtively around +the room in restless vigilance. His body wore the habitual air of crouching +alertness. He started slightly when anyone moved or spoke to him. Michael went +quickly over to the table and turned down the lamp. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t mind sitting in the firelight, will you?” he said +to Starr in a low tone, and her eyes told him that she understood. +</p> + +<p> +“Come over here, Buck,” said Michael motioning toward the sheltered +corner on the other side of the fireplace from where Starr was sitting. +“This is one of my friends, Miss Endicott, Mr. Endicott. Will you excuse +us if we sit here and talk a few minutes? Miss Endicott, you remember my +telling you of Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr with sudden inspiration born of the moment, got up and went over to where +the dark-browed Buck stood frowning and embarrassed in the chimney corner and +put out her little roseleaf of a hand to him. Buck looked at it in dismay and +did not stir. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t yer shake?” whispered Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Then with a grunt of astonishment Buck put out his rough hand and underwent the +unique experience of holding a lady’s hand in his. The hunted eyes looked +up startled to Starr’s and like a flash he saw a thought. It was as if +her eyes knew Browning’s poem and could express his thought to Buck in +language he could understand: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“All I could never be,<br> +All men ignored in me,<br> +This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.” +</p> + +<p> +Somehow, Starr, with her smile and her eyes, and her gentle manner, unknowingly +conveyed that thought to Buck! Poor, neglected, sinful Buck! And Michael, +looking on, knew what she had done, and blessed her in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +Buck sat down in the chimney corner, half in shadow with the lights from the +great log flaring over his face. The shades were all drawn down, the doors were +closed. He was surrounded by friendly faces. For a few minutes the hunted eyes +ceased their roving round the room, and rested on Starr’s sweet face as +she sat quietly, holding her father’s hand. It was a sight such as poor +Buck’s eyes had never rested upon in the whole of his checkered +existence, and for the moment he let the sweet wonder of it filter into his +dark, scarred soul, with blessed healing. Then he looked from Starr to +Michael’s fine face near by, tender with the joy of Buck’s coming, +anxious with what might be the outcome; and for a moment the heavy lines in +forehead and brow that Buck had worn since babyhood softened with a tender +look. Perhaps ’tis given, once to even the dullest soul to see, no matter +how low fallen, just what he might have been. +</p> + +<p> +They had been sitting thus for about fifteen minutes, quietly talking. Michael +intended to take Buck upstairs soon and question him, but, first he wanted time +to think what he must do. Then suddenly a loud knock startled them all, and as +Michael rose to go to the door there followed him the resounding clatter of the +tongs falling on the hearth. +</p> + +<p> +A voice with a knife edge to it cut through the room and made them all shiver. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Mr. Endicott!” it said. “I’m sorry to +trouble you, but I’ve come on a most unpleasant errand. We’re after +an escaped criminal, and he was seen to enter your door a few minutes ago. Of +course I know your goodness of heart. You take ’em all in, but this one +is a jail bird! You’ll excuse me if I take him off your hands. I’ll +try to do it as quietly and neatly as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +The big, blustery voice ceased and Michael, looking at the sinister gleam of +dull metal in the hands of the men who accompanied the county sheriff, knew +that the crisis was upon him. The man, impatient, was already pushing past him +into the room. It was of no sort of use to resist. He flung the door wide and +turned with the saddest look Starr thought she ever had seen on the face of a +man: +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” he said, and his voice was filled with sorrow, “I +know—but—he was one whom I loved!” +</p> + +<p> +“Wasted love! Mr. Endicott. Wasted love. Not one of ’em worth +it!” blustered the big man walking in. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael turned and faced the group around the fireplace and looking from +one to another turned white with amazement, for Buck was not among them! +</p> + +<p> +Starr sat beside her father in just the same attitude she had held throughout +the last fifteen minutes, his hand in hers, her face turned, startled, toward +the door, and something inscrutable in her eyes. Sam stood close beside the +fireplace, the tongs which he had just picked up in his hands, and a look of +sullen rage upon his face. Nowhere in the whole wide room was there a sign of +Buck, and there seemed no spot where he could hide. The door into the +dining-room was on the opposite wall, and behind it the cheerful clatter of the +clearing off of the table could be plainly heard. If Buck had escaped that way +there would have been an outcry from Morton or the maid. Every window had its +shade closely drawn. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff looked suspiciously at Michael whose blank face plainly showed he +had no part in making way with the outlaw. The men behind him looked sharply +round and finished with a curious gaze at Starr. Starr, rightly interpreting +the scene, rose to the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +“Would they like to look behind this couch?” she said moving +quickly to the other side of the fireplace over toward the window, with a +warning glance toward Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Then while the men began a fruitless search around the room, looking in the +chimney closet, and behind the furniture, she took up her stand beside the +corner window. +</p> + +<p> +It had been Michael’s thoughtfulness that had arranged that all the +windows should have springs worked by the pressing of a button like some car +windows, so that a touch would send them up at will. +</p> + +<p> +Only Sam saw Starr’s hand slide under the curtain a second, and unfasten +the catch at the top; then quickly down and touch the button in the window +sill. The window went up without a noise, and in a moment more the curtain was +moving out gently puffed by the soft spring breeze, and Starr had gone back to +her father’s side. “I cannot understand it,” said Michael, +“he was here a moment ago!” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff who had been nosing about the fireplace turned and came over to the +window, sliding up the shade with a motion and looking out into the dark +orchard. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! That’s where he went, boys,” he said. +“After him quick! We ought to have had a watch at each window as well as +at the back. Thank you, Mr. Endicott! Sorry to have troubled you. Good +night!” and the sheriff clattered after his men. +</p> + +<p> +Sam quickly pulled down the window, fastening it, and turned a look of almost +worshipful understanding on Starr. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that fire getting pretty hot for such a warm night?” +said Starr pushing back the hair from her forehead and bright cheeks. +“Sam, suppose you get a little water and pour over that log. I think we +will not need any more fire tonight anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam, quickly hastened to obey, his mouth stretching in a broad grin as he +went out the door. +</p> + +<p> +“She’d make a peach of a burglar,” he remarked to himself as +he filled a bucket with water and hurried back with it to the fire. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, in his strait betwixt law and love, was deeply troubled and had +followed the men out into the dark orchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, I think you’d better get up to your room. This excitement +has been too much for you,” said Starr decidedly. +</p> + +<p> +But Mr. Endicott demurred. He had been interested in the little drama that had +been enacted before him, and he wanted to sit up and see the end of it. He was +inclined to blame Michael for bringing such a fellow into Starr’s +presence. +</p> + +<p> +But Starr laughingly bundled him off to bed and sat for an hour reading to him, +her heart all the time in a flutter to know how things came out, wondering if +Sam surely understood, and put out the fire; and if it would be safe for her to +give him any broader hint. +</p> + +<p> +At midnight, Michael lay broad awake with troubled spirit, wondering over and +over if there was anything he might have done for Buck if he had only done it +in time—anything that would have been right to do. +</p> + +<p> +Softly, cautiously a man stole out of the darkness of the orchard until he came +and stood close to the old chimney, and then, softly stealing on the midnight +summer air there came a peculiar sibilant sound, clear, piercing, yet blending +with the night, and leaving no trace behind of its origin. One couldn’t +tell from whence it came. But Michael, keeping vigil, heard, and rose upon his +elbow, alert, listening. Was that Buck calling him? It came again, softer this +time, but distinct. Michael sprang from his bed and began hastily throwing on +his garments. That call should never go unanswered! +</p> + +<p> +Stealthily, in the light of the low, late moon, a dark figure stole forth from +the old chimney top, climbed down on the ladder that had been silently tilted +against it, helped to lay the ladder back innocently in the deep grass again, +and joining the figure on the ground crept away toward the river where waited a +boat. +</p> + +<p> +Buck lay down, in the bottom of the boat, covered with a piece of sacking, and +Sam took up the oars, when a long, sibilant whistle like a night bird floated +keenly through the air. Buck started up and turned suspicious eyes on Sam: +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Mikky, I reckon,” said Sam softly, reverently. +“He couldn’t sleep. He’s huntin’ yer!” +</p> + +<p> +Buck lay down with a sound that was almost a moan and the boat took up its +silent glide toward safety. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s fierce ter leave him this ’a’way!” muttered +Buck, “Yous tell him, won’t yer, an’ her—she’s a +ly-dy, she is. She’s all white! Tell her Buck’ll do ez much fer her +some day ef he ever gits the chanct.” +</p> + +<p> +“In doin’ fer her you’d be doin’ fer him, I +spekullate,” said Sam after a long pause. +</p> + +<p> +“So?” said Buck +</p> + +<p> +“So,” answered Sam. And that was the way Sam told Buck of the +identity of Starr. +</p> + +<p> +Now Starr, from her darkened window beside the great chimney, had watched the +whole thing. She waited until she saw Michael come slowly, sadly back from his +fruitless search through the mist before the dawning, alone, with bowed head; +and her heart ached for the problem that was filling him with sorrow. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap28"></a>Chapter XXVIII</h3> + +<p> +Starr was coming up to the city for a little shopping on the early morning +train with Michael. The summer was almost upon her and she had not prepared her +apparel. Besides, she was going away in a few days to be bridesmaid at the +wedding of an old school friend who lived away out West; and secretly she told +herself she wanted the pleasure of this little trip to town with Michael. +</p> + +<p> +She was treasuring every one of these beautiful days filled with precious +experiences, like jewels to be strung on memory’s chain, with a vague +unrest lest some close-drawing future was to snatch them from her forever. She +wished with all her heart that she had given a decided refusal to her +friend’s pleading, but the friend had put off the wedding on her account +to wait until she could leave her father; and her father had joined his +insistance that she should go away and have the rest and change after the +ordeal of the winter. So Starr seemed to have to go, much as she would rather +have remained. She had made a secret vow to herself that she would return at +once after the wedding in spite of all urgings to remain with the family who +had invited her to stay all summer with them. Starr had a feeling that the days +of her companionship with Michael might be short. She must make the most of +them. It might never be the same again after her going away. She was not sure +even that her father would consent to remain all summer at the farm as Michael +urged. +</p> + +<p> +And on this lovely morning she was very happy at the thought of going with +Michael. The sea seemed sparkling with a thousand gems as the train swept along +its shore, and Michael told her of his first coming down to see the farm, +called her attention to the flowers along the way: and she assured him Old +Orchard was far prettier than any of them, now that the roses were all +beginning to bud. It would soon be Rose Cottage indeed! +</p> + +<p> +Then the talk fell on Buck and his brief passing. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder where he can be and what he is doing,” sighed Michael. +“If he only could have stayed, long enough for me to have a talk with +him. I believe I could have persuaded him to a better way. It is the greatest +mystery in the world how he got away with those men watching the house. I +cannot understand it.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr, her cheeks rosy, her eyes shining mischievously, looked up at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you the least suspicion where he was hiding?” she +asked. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at her with a sudden start, and smiled into her lovely +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no. Have you?” he said, and could not keep the worship from +his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. I knew all the time. Do you think it was very dreadful for me +not to tell? I couldn’t bear to have him caught that way before +you’d had a chance to help him; and when he used to be so good to you as +a little boy; besides, I saw his face, that terrible, hunted look; there +wasn’t anything really wrong in my opening that window and throwing them +off the track, was there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you open the window?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr nodded saucily. “Yes, and Sam saw me do it. Sam knew all about it. +Buck went up the chimney right through that hot fire. Didn’t you hear the +tongs fall down? He went like a flash before you opened the door, and one foot +was still in sight when that sheriff came in. I was so afraid he’d see +it. Was it wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it was,” he said sadly. “The law must be +maintained. It can’t be set aside for one fellow who has touched +one’s heart by some childhood’s action. But right or wrong I +can’t help being glad that you cared to do something for poor +Buck.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I did it mostly for—you?” she said softly, her eyes +still down. +</p> + +<p> +For answer, Michael reached out his hand and took her little gloved one that +lay in her lap in a close pressure for just an instant. Then, as if a mighty +power were forcing him, he laid it gently down again and drew his hand away. +</p> + +<p> +Starr felt the pressure of that strong hand and the message that it gave +through long days afterward, and more than once it gave her strength and +courage and good cheer. Come what might, she had a friend—a friend strong +and true as an angel. +</p> + +<p> +They spoke no more till the train swept into the station and they had hurried +through the crowd and were standing on the front of the ferryboat, with the +water sparkling before their onward gliding and the whole, great, wicked, +stirring city spread before their gaze, the light from the cross on Trinity +Church steeple flinging its glory in their faces. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” said Michael pointing. “Do you remember the poem we +were reading the other night: Wordsworth’s ‘Upon Westminster +Bridge.’ Doesn’t it fit this scene perfectly? I’ve often +thought of it when I was coming across in the mornings. To look over there at +the beauty one would never dream of all the horror and wickedness and suffering +that lies within those streets. It is beautiful now. Listen! Do you remember +it? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘Earth has not anything to show more fair:<br> +Dull would he be of soul who could pass by<br> +A sight so touching in its majesty:<br> +This City now doth like a garment wear<br> +The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,<br> +Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie<br> +Open unto the fields, and to the sky,<br> +All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.<br> +Never did sun more beautifully steep<br> +In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;<br> +Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!<br> +The river glideth at its own sweet will:<br> +Dear God! The very houses seem asleep;<br> +And all that mighty heart is lying still!’” +</p> + +<p> +Starr looked long at the picture before her, and then at the face of her +companion speaking the beautiful lines word by word as one draws in the +outlines of a well-loved picture. +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s hat was off and the beauty of the morning lay in sunlight on +his hair and cheek and brow. Her heart swelled within her as she looked and +great tears filled her eyes. She dared not look longer lest she show her deep +emotion. The look of him, the words he spoke, and the whole wonderful scene +would linger in her memory as long as life should last. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later Starr started West, and life seemed empty for Michael. She was +gone from him, but still she would come back. Or, would she come back after +all? How long could he hope to keep her if she did? Sad foreboding filled him +and he went about his work with set, strained nerves; for now he knew that +right or wrong she was heart of his heart, part of his consciousness. He loved +her better than himself; and he saw no hope for himself at all in trying to +forget. Yet, never, never, would he ask her to share the dishonor of his +heritage. +</p> + +<p> +The day before Starr was expected to come back to Old Orchard Michael took up +the morning paper and with rising horror read: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +BANDIT WOUNDED AS FOUR HOLD UP TRAIN. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Express Messenger Protects Cash During Desperate Revolver Duel in Car. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Fort Smith, Ark.—Four bandits bungled the hold-up of a Kansas City +passenger train, between Hatfield and Mena, Ark., early today. One was probably +fatally wounded and captured and the others escaped after a battle with the +Express Messenger in which the messenger exhausted his ammunition and was badly +beaten.<br> + When the other robbers escaped the wounded bandit eluded the conductor, and +made his way into the sleeper, where he climbed into an empty berth. But he was +soon traced by the drops of blood from his wound. The conductor and a brakeman +hauled him out and battled with him in the aisle amid the screams of +passengers.<br> + The bandit aimed his revolver at the conductor and fired, but a sudden +unsteady turn of his wrist sent the bullet into himself instead of the +conductor. The wounded bandit received the bullet in his left breast near the +heart and will probably die. The Express Messenger is in the hospital at Mena +and may recover.<br> + Had the bullet of the bandit gone as intended it would more than likely +have wounded one or two women passengers, who at the sound of trouble had +jumped from their berths into the aisle and were directly in the path of the +bullet.<br> + There is some likelihood that the captured bandit may prove to be the +escaped convict, named “Buck,” who was serving long sentence in the +state penitentiary, and for whom the police have been searching in vain for the +last three months. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was white and trembling when he had finished reading this account. And +was this then to be the end of Buck. Must he die a death like that? Disgrace +and sin and death, and no chance to make good? Michael groaned aloud and bowed +his head upon the table before him, his heart too heavy even to try to think it +out. +</p> + +<p> +That evening a telegram reached him from Arkansas. +</p> + +<p> +“A man named ‘Buck’ is dying here, and calls incessantly for +you. If you wish to see him alive come at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael took the midnight train. Starr had telegraphed her father she would +reach Old Orchard in the morning. It was hard to have to go when, she was just +returning. Michael wondered if it would always be so now. +</p> + +<p> +Buck roused at Michael’s coming and smiled feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky! I knowed you’d come!” he whispered feebly. +“I’m done for, pardner. I ain’t long fer here, but I +couldn’t go ’thout you knowin’. I’d meant to git +jes’ this one haul an’ git away to some other country where it was +safe, ’nen I was goin’ to try’n keep straight like you would +want. I would a’got trough all right, but I seen her,—the pretty +lady,—your girl,—standing in the aisle right ahin’ the +c’ndct’r, jes’ es I wuz pullin’ the trigger knowed her +right off, ’ith her eyes shinin’ like two stars; an’ I +couldn’t run no resks. I ain’t never bin no bungler at my trade, +but I hed to bungle this time ’cause I couldn’t shoot your girl! So +I turned it jes’ in time an’ took it mese’f. She seen how +’twas ’ith me that time at your house, an’ she he’ped +me git away. I sent her word I’d do the same fer her some day, bless +her—an’ now—you tell her we’re square! I done the +bunglin’ fer her sake, but I done it fer you too, pard—little +pard—Mikky!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Buck!” Michael knelt beside the poor bed and buried his face +in the coverlet. “Oh, Buck! If you’d only had my chance!” he +moaned. +</p> + +<p> +“Never you mind, Mikky! I ain’t squealin’. I knows how to +take my dose. An’ mebbe, they’ll be some kind of a collidge whar +I’m goin’, at I kin get a try at yet—don’t you fret, +little pard—ef I git my chancet I’ll take it fer your sake!” +</p> + +<p> +The life breath seemed to be spent with the effort and Buck sank slowly into +unconsciousness and so passed out of a life that had been all against him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael after doing all the last little things that were permitted him, sadly +took his way home again. +</p> + +<p> +He reached the city in the morning and spent several hours putting to rights +his business affairs; but by noon he found himself so unutterably weary that he +took the two o’clock train down to the farm. Sam met him at the station. +Sam somehow seemed to have an intuition when to meet him, and the two gripped +hands and walked home together across the salt grass, Michael telling in low, +halting tones all that Buck had said. Sam kept his face turned the other way, +but once Michael got a view of it and he was sure there were tears on his +cheeks. To think of Sam having tears for anything! +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at the cottage Sam told him he thought that Mr. Endicott was taking his +afternoon nap upstairs, and that Miss Endicott had gone to ride with +“some kind of a fancy woman in a auto” who had called to see her. +</p> + +<p> +Being very weary and yet unwilling to run the risk of waking Mr. Endicott by +going upstairs, Michael asked Sam to bolt the dining-room door and give orders +that he should not be disturbed for an hour; then he lay down on the leather +couch in the living-room. +</p> + +<p> +The windows were open all around and the sweet breath of the opening roses +stole in with the summer breeze, while the drone of bees and the pure notes of +a song sparrow lulled him to sleep. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap29"></a>Chapter XXIX</h3> + +<p> +Michael had slept perhaps an hour when he was roused by the sound of voices, a +sharp, hateful one with an unpleasant memory in it, and a sweet, dear one that +went to his very soul. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down here, Aunt Frances. There is no one about: Papa is asleep and +Michael has not yet returned from a trip out West. You can talk without fear of +being heard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Michael, Michael!” sniffed the voice. “Well, that’s +what I came to talk to you about. I didn’t want to say anything out there +where the chauffeur could hear; he is altogether too curious and might talk +with the servants about it. I wouldn’t have it get out for the world. +Your mother would have been mortified to death about all this, and I +can’t see what your father is thinking about. He never did seem to have +much sense where you were concerned—!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I can’t help it. He doesn’t. Now take this matter of +your being down here, and the very thought of you’re calling that fellow +Michael,—as if he were a cousin or something! Why, it’s simply +disgusting! I hoped you were going to stay out West until your father was well +enough to go away somewhere with you; but now that you have come back I think +you ought to leave here at once. People will begin to talk, and I don’t +like it. Why, the fellow will be presuming on it to be intimate with +you—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was suddenly roused to the fact that he was listening to a conversation +not intended for his ears, and yet he had no way of getting out of hearing +without passing the door in the front of which the two women were seated. Both +the dining-room, door and the stairs were on the other side of the room from +him and he would have to run the risk of being seen, by either or both of them +if he attempted to cross to them. The windows were screened by wire nailed over +the whole length, so he could not hope to get successfully out of any of them. +There was nothing for it but to lie still, and pretend to be asleep if they +discovered him afterwards. It was an embarrassing situation but it was none of +his choosing. +</p> + +<p> +There was a slight stir outside, Starr had risen, and was standing with her +back to the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances! What do you mean? Michael is our honored and respected +friend, our protector—our—host. Think what he did for papa! Risked +his life!” +</p> + +<p> +“Stuff and nonsense! Risked his life. He took the risk for perfectly good +reasons. He knew how to worm himself into the family again—” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances! I will not hear you say such dreadful things. Michael is a +gentleman, well-educated, with the highest ideals and principles. If you knew +how self-sacrificing and kind he is!” +</p> + +<p> +“Kind, yes kind!” sniffed the aunt, “and what will you think +about it when he asks you to marry him? Will you think he is kind to offer you +a share in the inheritance of a nobody—a charity—dependent—a +child of the slums? If you persist in your foolishness of staying here you will +presently have all New York gossiping about you, and then when you are in +disgrace—I suppose you will turn to me to help you out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” cried Starr. “I will not listen to another word. What +do you mean by disgrace? There could be no disgrace in marrying Michael. The +girl who marries him will be the happiest woman in the whole world. He is good +and true and unselfish to the heart’s core. There isn’t the +slightest danger of his ever asking me to marry him, Aunt Frances, because I am +very sure he loves another girl and is engaged to marry her; and she is a nice +girl too. But if it were different, if he were free and asked me to marry him I +would feel as proud and glad as if a prince of the highest realm had asked me +to share his throne with him. I would rather marry Michael than any man I ever +met, and I don’t care in the least whether he is a child of the slums or +a child of a king. I know what he is, and he is a prince among men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, really! Has it come to this? Then you are in love with him already +and my warning comes too late, does it? Answer me! Do you fancy yourself in +love with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances, you have no right to ask me that question,” said +Starr steadily, her cheeks very red and her eyes very bright. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was sitting bolt upright on the couch now, utterly forgetful of the +dishonor of eavesdropping, fairly holding his breath to listen and straining +his ears that he might lose no slightest word. He was devouring the dear, +straight, little form in the doorway with his eyes, and her every word fell on +his tired heart like raindrops in a thirsty land, making the flowers of hope +spring forth and burst into lovely bloom. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I do ask it!” snapped the aunt hatefully. “Come, +answer me, do you love him?” +</p> + +<p> +“That, Aunt Frances, I shall never answer to anybody but Michael. I must +refuse to hear another word on this subject.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, very well, good-bye. I’ll leave you to your silly fate, but +don’t expect me to help you out of trouble if you get into it. I’ve +warned you and I wash my hands of you,” and the angry woman flouted out +to her waiting car, but the girl stood still in the doorway and said with +dignity: +</p> + +<p> +“Good afternoon, Aunt Frances. I shall never ask your help in any +way.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr watched the car out of sight, great tears welling into her eyes and +rolling down her cheeks. Michael sat breathless on the couch and tried to think +what he ought to do; while his very being was rippling with the joy of the +words she had spoken. +</p> + +<p> +Then she turned and saw him, and he stood up and held out his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Starr, my little Starr! My darling! Did you mean all you said? Would you +really marry me? I’ve loved you always, Starr, since first I saw you a +tiny little child; I’ve loved your soft baby kisses and those others you +gave me later when you were a little girl and I an awkward boy. You never knew +how dear they were, nor how I used to go to sleep at night dreaming over and +over again, those kisses on my face. Oh, Starr! answer me? Did you mean it all? +And could you ever love me? You said you would answer that question to no one +else but me. Will you answer it now, darling?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer she came and stood within his arms, her eyes down-drooped, her face +all tears and smiles, and he folded her within his strong clasp and stooping, +whispered softly: +</p> + +<p> +“Starr, little darling—my life—my +love—my—<i>wife</i>!” +</p> + +<p> +And then he laid his lips against hers and held her close. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Three weeks later when the roses were all aburst of bloom over the porch at +Rose Cottage and June was everywhere with her richness and perfection of +beauty, Starr and Michael were married on the piazza under an arch of roses; +and a favored few of society’s cream motored down to Old Orchard to +witness the ceremony. In spite of all her disagreeable predictions and ugly +threats Aunt Frances was among them, smiling and dominating. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, so sensible of her not to make a fuss with her wedding just now, +when her father is getting his strength back again. Of course she could have +come to my house and been married. I begged her to—naturally she shrank +from another wedding in connection with the old home you know—but her +father seemed to dread coming into town and so I advised her to go ahead and be +married here. Isn’t it a charming place? So rustic you know, and quite +simple and artistic too in its way. Michael has done it all, planned the house +and everything, of course with Starr’s help. You know it’s quite a +large estate, belonged to Michael’s great grandfather once, several +hundred acres, and he has used part of it for charitable purposes; has a farm +school or something for poor slum people, and is really teaching them to be +quite decent. I’m sure I hope they’ll be duly grateful. See those +roses? Aren’t they perfectly <i>dear</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +It was so she chattered to those in the car with her all the way down to the +farm; and to see her going about among the guests and smiling and posing to +Michael when he happened to come near her, you would have thought the match all +of her making, and never have dreamed that it was only because Michael’s +great forgiving heart had said: “Oh, forgive her and ask her down. She is +your mother’s sister, you know, and you’ll be glad you did it +afterwards. Never mind what she says. She can’t help her notions. It was +her unfortunate upbringing, and she’s as much to be pitied as I for my +slum education.” +</p> + +<p> +The pretty ceremony under the roses was over, and Starr had gone upstairs to +change the simple embroidered muslin for her travelling frock and motor coat, +for Michael and Starr were to take their honeymoon in their own new car, a +wedding gift from their father; and Endicott himself was to go to his +sister’s by rail in the company of Will French, to stay during their +absence and be picked up by them on their homeward route. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood among his friends on the piazza giving last directions to French +who was to look after his law business also during his absence, and who was +eager to tell his friend how he and Hester had planned to be married early in +the fall and were to go to housekeeping in a five-roomed flat that might have +been a palace from the light in Will’s eyes. Hester was talking with +Lizzie who had edged near the porch with her pretty boy hiding shyly behind +her, but the smile that Hester threw in Will’s direction now and then +showed she well knew what was his subject of conversation. +</p> + +<p> +All the little colony had been gathered in the orchard in front of the rose +arch, to watch the wedding ceremony, and many of them still lingered there to +see the departure of the beloved bride and groom. Aunt Frances levelled her +lorgnette at them with all the airs of her departed sister, and exclaimed +“Aren’t they picturesque? It’s quite like the old country to +have so many servants and retainers gathered about adoring, now isn’t +it!” And a young and eager debutante who was a distant cousin of +Starr’s. replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I think it’s perfectly peachy, Aunt Frances.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly in one of Will’s eager perorations about the flat and its +outlook Michael noticed the shy, eager look of Sam’s face as he waited +hungrily for notice. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, Will, I must see Sam a minute,” said Michael hurrying +over to where the man stood. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, Mikky,” said Sam shyly, grasping Michael’s hand +convulsively, “me an’ Lizzie sort o’ made it up as how +we’d get tied, an’ we thought we’d do it now whiles +everybody’s at it, an’ things is all fixed Lizzie she wanted me to +ask you ef you ’sposed <i>she’d</i> mind, ef we’uns stood +thur on the verandy whur yous did, arter you was gone?” Sam looked at him +anxiously as though he had asked the half of Michael’s kingdom and +scarcely expected to get it, but Michael’s face was filled with glory as +he clasped the small hard hand of his comrade and gripped it with his mighty +hearty grip. +</p> + +<p> +“Mind! She’d be delighted, Sam! Go ahead. I’m sorry we +didn’t know it before. We’d have liked to give you a present, but +I’ll send you the deed of the little white cottage at the head of the +lane, the one that looks toward the river and the sunset, you know. Will you +two like to live there?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes grew large with happiness, and a mist came over them as he +held tight to the great hand that enclosed his own, and choked and tried to +answer. +</p> + +<p> +Amid a shower of roses and cheers Michael and Starr rode into the sweet June +afternoon, alone together at last. And when they had gone beyond the little +town, and were on a stretch of quiet woodsy road, Michael stopped the car and +took his bride into his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear,” he said as he tenderly kissed her, “I’ve just +been realizing what might have happened if Buck hadn’t seen you in time +and taken the shot himself that I might have you, my life, my dear, precious +wife!” +</p> + +<p> +Then Starr looked up with her eyes all dewy with tears and said, +“Michael, we must try to save a lot of others for his sake.” And +Michael smiled and pressed his lips to hers again, with deep, sweet +understanding. +</p> + +<p> +Then, when they were riding along again Michael told her of what Sam had asked, +and how another wedding was to follow theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Michael!” said Starr, all eagerness at once, “Why +didn’t you tell me sooner! I would have liked to stay and see them +married. Couldn’t we turn around now and get there in time if you put on +high speed?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll try,” said Michael reversing the car; and in an +instant more it was shooting back to Old Orchard, arriving on the scene just as +Sam and Lizzie were shyly taking their place, hand in hand, under the roses, in +as near imitation of Michael and Starr as their unaccustomedness could compass. +</p> + +<p> +It was Jim who discovered the car coming up the orchard lane. +</p> + +<p> +“For de lub o’ Mike!” he exclaimed aloud. “Ef here +don’t come Mikky hisse’f, and <i>her</i>! Hold up dar, Mister +preacher. Don’t tie de knot till dey gits here!” +</p> + +<p> +And a cheer arose loud and long and echoed through the trees and over the river +to the sea. Three cheers for the love of Michael! +</p> + +<p> +Sam and Lizzie bloomed forth with smiles, and the ceremony went forward with, +alacrity now that the real audience was present. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later, having done their part to make the wedding festivities as joyous +as their own had been, Michael and Starr started out again into the waning day, +a light on their faces and joy in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, her heart very full, laid her hand upon Michael’s and said with +shining eyes: +</p> + +<p> +“Michael, do you know, I found a name for you. Listen: ‘And at that +time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which standeth for the children +of thy people: and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that +shall be found written in the book.’ Michael, you are <i>my +prince</i>!” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael as he stooped and kissed her, murmured, “My Starr.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LO, MICHAEL! ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Lo, Michael!</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Grace Livingston Hill</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October 20, 2003 [EBook #9816]<br> +[Most recently updated: September 29, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Josephine Paolucci, +and Project Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LO, MICHAEL! ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover"> +</div> + +<h1>Lo, Michael!</h1> + +<h2>by Grace Livingston Hill</h2> + +<hr> + +<h3>Contents</h3> + +<table style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">Chapter I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">Chapter II</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">Chapter III</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">Chapter IV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">Chapter V</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">Chapter VI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">Chapter VII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">Chapter VIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">Chapter IX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">Chapter X</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">Chapter XI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">Chapter XII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">Chapter XIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">Chapter XIV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">Chapter XV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">Chapter XVI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">Chapter XVII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">Chapter XVIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">Chapter XIX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">Chapter XX</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">Chapter XXI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">Chapter XXII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">Chapter XXIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">Chapter XXIV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">Chapter XXV</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">Chapter XXVI</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">Chapter XXVII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">Chapter XXVIII</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">Chapter XXIX</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p class="letter"> +“But, lo, Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me.” +</p> + +<p class="right"> +—DANIEL, 10:13. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap01"></a>Chapter I</h3> + +<p> +“Hi, there! Mikky! Look out!” +</p> + +<p> +It was an alert voice that called from a huddled group of urchins in the +forefront of the crowd, but the child flashed past without heeding, straight up +the stone steps where stood a beautiful baby smiling on the crowd. With his +bundle of papers held high, and the late morning sunlight catching his tangle +of golden hair, Mikky flung himself toward the little one. The sharp crack of a +revolver from the opposite curbstone was simultaneous with their fall. Then all +was confusion. +</p> + +<p> +It was a great stone house on Madison Avenue where the crowd had gathered. An +automobile stood before the door, having but just come quietly up, and the baby +girl three years old, in white velvet, and ermines, with her dark curls framed +by an ermine-trimmed hood, and a bunch of silk rosebuds poised coquettishly +over the brow vying with the soft roses of her cheeks came out the door with +her nurse for her afternoon ride. Just an instant the nurse stepped back to the +hall for the wrap she had dropped, leaving the baby alone, her dark eyes +shining like stars under the straight dark brows, as she looked gleefully out +in the world. It was just at that instant, as if by magic, that the crowd +assembled. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps it would be better to say that it was just at that minute that the +crowd focused itself upon the particular house where the baby daughter of the +president of a great defaulting bank lived. More or less all the morning, men +had been gathering, passing the house, looking up with troubled or threatening +faces toward the richly laced windows, shaking menacing heads, muttering +imprecations, but there had been no disturbance, and no concerted crowd until +the instant the baby appeared. +</p> + +<p> +The police had been more or less vigilant all the morning but had seen nothing +to disturb them. The inevitable small boy had also been in evidence, with his +natural instinct for excitement. Mikky with his papers often found himself in +that quarter of a bright morning, and the starry eyes and dark curls of the +little child were a vision for which he often searched the great windows as he +passed this particular house: but the man with the evil face on the other side +of the street, resting a shaking hand against the lamp post, and sighting the +baby with a vindictive eye, had never been seen there before. It was Mikky who +noticed him first: Mikky, who circling around him innocently had heard his +imprecations against the rich, who caught the low-breathed oath as the baby +appeared, and saw the ugly look on the man’s face. With instant alarm he +had gone to the other side of the street, his eye upon the offender, and had +been the first to see the covert motion, the flash of the hidden weapon and to +fear the worst. +</p> + +<p> +But a second behind him his street companions saw his danger and cried out, too +late. Mikky had flung himself in front of the beautiful baby, covering her with +his great bundle of papers, and his own ragged, neglected little body; and +receiving the bullet intended for her, went down with her as she fell. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly all was confusion. +</p> + +<p> +A child’s cry—a woman’s scream—the whistle of the +police—the angry roar of the crowd who were like a pack of wild animals +that had tasted blood. Stones flew, flung by men whose wrongs had smothered in +their breasts and bred a fury of hate and murder. Women were trampled upon. Two +of the great plate glass windows crashed as the flying missiles entered the +magnificent home, regardless of costly lace and velvet hangings. +</p> + +<p> +The chauffeur attempted to run his car around the corner but was held up at +once, and discreetly took himself out of the way, leaving the car in the hands +of the mob who swarmed into it and over it, ruthlessly disfiguring it in their +wrath. There was the loud report of exploding tires, the ripping of costly +leather cushions, the groaning of fine machinery put to torture as the fury of +the mob took vengeance on the car to show what they would like to do to its +owner. +</p> + +<p> +Gone into bankruptcy! He! With a great electric car like that, and servants to +serve him! With his baby attired in the trappings of a queen and his house +swathed in lace that had taken the eyesight from many a poor lace-maker! He! +Gone into bankruptcy, and slipping away scot free, while the men he had robbed +stood helpless on his sidewalk, hungry and shabby and hopeless because the +pittances they had put away in his bank, the result of slavery and sacrifice, +were gone,—hopelessly gone! and they were too old, or too tired, or too +filled with hate, to earn it again. +</p> + +<p> +The crowd surged and seethed madly, now snarling like beasts, now rumbling +portentously like a storm, now babbling like an infant; a great emotional +frenzy, throbbing with passion, goaded beyond fear, desperate with need; +leaderless, and therefore the more dangerous. +</p> + +<p> +The very sight of that luxurious baby with her dancing eyes and happy smiles +“rolling in luxury,” called to mind their own little puny darling, +grimy with neglect, lean with want, and hollow-eyed with knowledge aforetime. +Why should one baby be pampered and another starved? Why did the +bank-president’s daughter have any better right to those wonderful furs +and that exultant smile than their own babies? A glimpse into the depths of the +rooms beyond the sheltering plate glass and drapery showed greater contrast +even than they had dreamed between this home and the bare tenements they had +left that morning, where the children were crying for bread and the wife +shivering with cold. Because they loved their own their anger burned the +fiercer; and for love of their pitiful scrawny babies that flower-like child in +the doorway was hated with all the vehemence of their untamed natures. Their +every breath cried out for vengeance, and with the brute instinct they sought +to hurt the man through his child, because they had been hurt by the wrong done +to their children. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman’s whistle had done its work, however. The startled inmates +of the house had drawn the beautiful baby and her small preserver within the +heavy carven doors, and borne them back to safety before the unorganized mob +had time to force their way in. Amid the outcry and the disorder no one had +noticed that Mikky had disappeared until his small band of companions set up an +outcry, but even then no one heard. +</p> + +<p> +The mounted police had arrived, and orders were being given. The man who had +fired the shot was arrested, handcuffed and marched away. The people were +ordered right and left, and the officer’s horses rode ruthlessly through +the masses. Law and order had arrived and there was nothing for the downtrodden +but to flee. +</p> + +<p> +In a very short time the square was cleared and guarded by a large force. Only +the newspaper men came and went without challenge. The threatening groups of +men who still hovered about withdrew further and further. The wrecked +automobile was patched up and taken away to the garage. The street became +quiet, and by and by some workmen came hurriedly, importantly, and put in +temporary protections where the window glass had been broken. +</p> + +<p> +Yet through it all a little knot of ragged newsboys stood their ground in front +of the house. Until quiet was restored they had evaded each renewed command of +officer or passer-by, and stayed there; whispering now and again in excited +groups and pointing up to the house. Finally a tall policeman approached them: +</p> + +<p> +“Clear out of this, kids!” he said not unkindly. +“Here’s no place for you. Clear out. Do you hear me? You +can’t stay here no longer:” +</p> + +<p> +Then one of them wheeled upon him. He was the tallest of them all, with fierce +little freckled face and flashing black eyes in which all the evil passions of +four generations back looked out upon a world that had always been harsh. He +was commonly known as fighting Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s in dare. He’s hurted. We kids can’t leave Mick +alone. He might be dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Just at that moment a physician’s runabout drew up to the door, and the +policeman fell back to let him pass into the house. Hard upon him followed the +bank president in a closed carriage attended by several men in uniform who +escorted him to the door and touched their hats politely as he vanished within. +Around the corners scowling faces haunted the shadows, and murmured +imprecations were scarcely withheld in spite of the mounted officers. A shot +was fired down the street, and several policemen hurried away. But through it +all the boys stood their ground. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s in dare. He’s hurted. I seen him fall. Maybe +he’s deaded. We kids want to take him away. Mikky didn’t do +nothin’, Mikky jes’ tried to save der little kid. Mikky’s a +good’un. You get the folks to put Mikky out here. We kids’ll take +him away.” +</p> + +<p> +The policeman finally attended to the fierce pleading of the ragamuffins. Two +or three newspaper men joined the knot around them and the story was presently +written up with all the racy touches that the writers of the hour know how to +use. Before night Buck, with his fierce black brows drawn in helpless defiance +was adorning the evening papers in various attitudes as the different snapshots +portrayed him, and the little group of newsboys and boot-blacks and +good-for-nothings that stood around him figured for once in the eyes of the +whole city. +</p> + +<p> +The small band held their place until forcibly removed. Some of them were +barefoot, and stood shivering on the cold stones, their little sickly, grimy +faces blue with anxiety and chill. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor came out of the house just as the last one, Buck, was being marched +off with loud-voiced protest. He eyed the boy, and quickly understood the +situation. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here!” he called to the officer. “Let me speak to the +youngster. He’s a friend, I suppose, of the boy that was shot?” +</p> + +<p> +The officer nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, boy, what’s all this fuss about?” He looked kindly, +keenly into the defiant black eyes of Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky’s hurted—mebbe deaded. I wants to take him away from +dare,” he burst forth sullenly. “We kids can’t go +off’n’ leave Mikky in dare wid de rich guys. Mikky didn’t do +no harm. He’s jes tryin’ to save de kid.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky. Is that the boy that took the shot in place of the little +girl?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy nodded and looked anxiously into the kindly face of the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“Yep. Hev you ben in dare? Did youse see Mikky? He’s got yaller +hair. Is Mikky deaded?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, he isn’t dead,” said the physician kindly, “but +he’s pretty badly hurt. The ball went through his shoulder and arm, and +came mighty near some vital places. I’ve just been fixing him up +comfortably, and he’ll be all right after a bit, but he’s got to +lie very still right where he is and be taken care of.” +</p> + +<p> +“We kids’ll take care o’ Mikky!” said Buck proudly. +“He tooked care of Jinney when she was sick, an’ we’ll take +care o’ Mikky, all right, all right. You jes’ brang him out +an’ we’ll fetch a wheelbarry an’ cart him off’n yer +han’s. Mikky wouldn’t want to be in dare wid de rich guys.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear fellow,” said the doctor, quite touched by the earnestness +in Buck’s eyes, “that’s very good of you, I’m sure, and +Mikky ought to appreciate his friends, but he’s being taken care of +perfectly right where he is and he couldn’t be moved. It might kill him +to move him, and if he stays where he is he will get well. I’ll tell you +what I’ll do,” he added as he saw the lowering distress in the dumb +eyes before him, “I’ll give you a bulletin every day. You be here +tonight at five o’clock when I come out of the house and I’ll tell +you just how he is. Then you needn’t worry about him. He’s in a +beautiful room lying on a great big white bed and he has everything nice around +him, and when I came away he was sleeping. I can take him a message for you +when I go in tonight, if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +Half doubtfully the boy looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Will you tell Mikky to drop us down word ef he wants annythin’? +Will you ast him ef he don’t want us to git him out?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said the doctor in kindly amusement. “You trust me +and I’ll make good. Be here at five o’clock sharp and again +tomorrow at quarter to eleven.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s only a slum kid!” grumbled the officer. +“’Tain’t worth while to take so much trouble. ’Sides, +the folks won’t want um botherin’ ’round.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he’s all right!” said the doctor. “He’s a +friend worth having. You might need one yourself some day, you know. +What’s your name, boy? Who shall I tell Mikky sent the message?” +</p> + +<p> +“Buck,” said the child gravely, “Fightin’ Buck, they +calls me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very appropriate name, I should think,” said the doctor smiling. +“Well, run along Buck and be here at five o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly the boy moved off. The officer again took up his stand in front of +the house and quiet was restored to the street. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, in the great house consternation reigned for a time. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse maid had reached the door in time to hear the shot and see the +children fall. She barely escaped the bullet herself. She was an old servant of +the family and therefore more frightened for her charge than for herself. She +had the presence of mind to drag both children inside the house and shut and +lock the door immediately, before the seething mob could break in. +</p> + +<p> +The mistress of the house fell in a dead faint as they carried her little +laughing daughter up the stairs and a man and a maid followed with the boy who +was unconscious. The servants rushed hither and thither; the housekeeper had +the coolness to telephone the bank president what had happened, and to send for +the family physician. No one knew yet just who was hurt or how much. Mikky had +been brought inside because he blocked the doorway, and there was need for +instantly shutting the door. If it had been easier to shove him out the nurse +maid would probably have done that. But once inside common humanity bade them +look after the unconscious boy’s needs, and besides, no one knew as yet +just exactly what part Mikky had played in the small tragedy of the morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Where shall we take him?” said the man to the maid as they reached +the second floor with their unconscious burden. +</p> + +<p> +“Not here, Thomas. Here’s no place for him. He’s as dirty as +a pig. I can’t think what come over Morton to pull him inside, anyway. +His own could have tended to him. Besides, such is better dead!” +</p> + +<p> +They hurried on past the luxurious rooms belonging to the lady of the mansion; +up the next flight of stairs, and Norah paused by the bath-room door where the +full light of the hall windows fell upon the grimy little figure of the child +they carried. +</p> + +<p> +Norah the maid uttered an exclamation. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s not fit fer any place in this house. Look at his cloes. +They’ll have to be cut off’n him, and he needs to go in the +bath-tub before he can be laid anywheres. Let’s put him in the bath-room, +and do you go an’ call Morton. She got him in here and she’ll have +to bathe him. And bring me a pair of scissors. I’ll mebbe have to cut the +cloes off’n him, they’re so filthy. Ach! The little beast!” +</p> + +<p> +Thomas, glad to be rid of his burden, dropped the boy on the bath-room floor +and made off to call Morton. +</p> + +<p> +Norah, with little knowledge and less care, took no thought for the life of her +patient. She was intent on making him fit to put between her clean sheets. She +found the tattered garments none too tenacious in their hold to the little, +half-naked body. One or two buttons and a string were their only attachments. +Norah pulled them off with gingerly fingers, and holding them at arm’s +length took them to the bath-room window whence she pitched them down into the +paved court below, that led to the kitchen regions. Thomas could burn them, or +put them on the ash pile by and by. She was certain they would never go on +again, and wondered how they had been made to hold together this last time. +</p> + +<p> +Morton had not come yet, but Norah discovering a pool of blood under the little +bare shoulder, lifted him quickly into the great white bath-tub and turned on +the warm water. There was no use wasting time, and getting blood on white tiles +that she would have to scrub. She was not unkind but she hated dirt, and partly +supporting the child with one arm she applied herself to scrubbing him as +vigorously as possible with the other hand. The shock of the water, not being +very warm at first, brought returning consciousness to the boy for a moment, in +one long shuddering sigh. The eyelashes trembled for an instant on the white +cheeks, and his eyes opened; gazed dazedly, then wildly, on the strange +surroundings, the water, and the vigorous Irish woman who had him in her power. +He threw his arms up with a struggling motion, gasped as if with sudden pain +and lost consciousness again, relaxing once more into the strong red arm that +held him. It was just at this critical moment that Morton entered the +bath-room. +</p> + +<p> +Morton was a trim, apple-cheeked Scotch woman of about thirty years, with neat +yellow-brown hair coiled on the top of her head, a cheerful tilt to her +freckled nose, and eyes so blue that in company with her rosy cheeks one +thought at once of a flag. Heather and integrity exhaled from her very being, +flamed from her cheeks, spoke from her loyal, stubborn chin, and looked from +her trustworthy eyes. She had been with the bank president’s baby ever +since the little star-eyed creature came into the world. +</p> + +<p> +“Och! look ye at the poor wee’un!” she exclaimed. +“Ye’re hurtin’ him, Norah! Ye shouldn’t have bathed him +the noo! Ye should’ve waited the docther’s comin’. +Ye’ll mebbe kin kill him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ach! Get out with yer soft talk!” said Norah, scrubbing the more +vigorously. “Did yez suppose I’ll be afther havin’ all this +filth in the nice clean sheets? Get ye to work an’ he’p me. Do ye +hold ’im while I schrub!” +</p> + +<p> +She shifted the boy into the gentler arm’s of the nurse, and went to +splashing all the harder. Then suddenly, before the nurse could protest, she +had dashed a lot of foamy suds on the golden head and was scrubbing that with +all her might. +</p> + +<p> +“Och, Norah!” cried the nurse in alarm. “You shouldn’t +a done that! Ye’ll surely kill the bairn. Look at his poor wee shoulder a +bleedin’, and his little face so white an’ still. Have ye no mercy +at all, Norah? Rinse off that suds at once, an’ dry him softly. +What’ll the docther be sayin’ to ye fer all this I can’t +think. There, my poor bairnie,” she crooned to the child, softly drawing +him closer as though he were conscious,— +</p> + +<p> +“There, there my bairnie, it’ll soon be over. It’ll be all +right in just a minute, poor wee b’y! Poor wee b’y! There! +There—” +</p> + +<p> +But Norah did her perfect work, and made the little lean body glistening white +as polished marble, while the heavy hair hung limp like pale golden silk. +</p> + +<p> +The two women carried him to a bed in a large room at the back of the house, +not far from the nursery, and laid him on a blanket, with his shoulder stanched +with soft linen rags. Morton was softly drying his hair and crooning to the +child—although he was still unconscious—begging Norah to put the +blanket over him lest he catch cold; and Norah was still vigorously drying his +feet unmindful of Morton’s pleading, when the doctor entered with a +trained nurse. The boy lay white and still upon the blanket as the two women, +startled, drew back from their task. The body, clean now, and beautifully +shaped, might have been marble except for the delicate blue veins in wrists and +temples. In spite of signs of privation and lack of nutrition there was about +the boy a showing of strength in well developed muscles, and it went to the +heart to see him lying helpless so, with his drenched gold hair and his closed +eyes. The white limbs did not quiver, the lifeless fingers drooped limply, the +white chest did not stir with any sign of breath, and yet the tender lips that +curved in a cupid’s bow, were not altogether gone white. +</p> + +<p> +“What a beautiful child!” exclaimed the nurse involuntarily as she +came near the bed. “He looks like a young god!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s far more likely to be a young devil,” said the doctor +grimly, leaning over him with practised eyes, and laying a listening ear to the +quiet breast. Then, he started back. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s cold as ice! What have you been doing to him? It wasn’t +a case of drowning, was it? You haven’t been giving him a bath at such a +time as this, have you? Did you want to kill the kid outright?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oauch, the poor wee b’y!” sobbed Morton under her breath, +her blue eyes drenched with tears that made them like blue lakes. +“He’s like to my own wee b’y that I lost when he was a +baby,” she explained in apology to the trained nurse who was not, +however, regarding her in the least. +</p> + +<p> +Norah had vanished frightened to consult with Thomas. It was Morton who brought +the things the doctor called for, and showed the nurse where to put her +belongings; and after everything was done and the boy made comfortable and +brought back to consciousness, it was she who stood at the foot of the bed and +smiled upon him first in this new world to which he opened his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes were blue, heavenly blue and dark, but they were great with a brave +fear as he glanced about on the strange faces. He looked like a wild bird, +caught in a kindly hand,—a bird whose instincts held him still because he +saw no way of flight, but whose heart was beating frightfully against his +captor’s fingers. He looked from side to side of the room, and made a +motion to rise from the pillow. It was a wild, furtive motion, as of one who +has often been obliged to fly for safety, yet still has unlimited courage. +There was also in his glance the gentle harmlessness and appeal of the winged +thing that has been caught. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, youngster, you had a pretty close shave,” said the doctor +jovially, “but you’ll pull through all right! You feel comfortable +now?” +</p> + +<p> +The nurse was professionally quiet. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor wee b’y!” murmured Morton, her eyes drenched again. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked from one to another doubtfully. Suddenly remembrance dawned upon +him and comprehension entered his glance. He looked about the room and toward +the door. There was question in his eyes that turned on the doctor but his lips +formed no words. He looked at Morton, and knew her for the nurse of his baby. +Suddenly he smiled, and that smile seemed to light up the whole room, and +filled the heart of Morton with joy unspeakable. It seemed to her it was the +smile of her own lost baby come back to shine upon her. The tears welled, up +and the blue lakes ran over. The boy’s face was most lovely when he +smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is—de little kid?” It was Morton whose face he +searched anxiously as he framed the eager question, and the woman’s +intuition taught her how to answer. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s safe in her own wee crib takin’ her morning nap. +She’s just new over,” answered the woman reassuringly. +</p> + +<p> +Still the eyes were not satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +“Did she”—he began +slowly—“get—hurted?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, my bairnie, she’s all safe and sound as ever. It was your own +self that saved her life.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s face lit up and he turned from one to another contentedly. His +smile said: “Then I’m glad.” But not a word spoke his shy +lips. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a hero, kid!” said the doctor huskily. But the boy +knew little about heroes and did not comprehend. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse by this time had donned her uniform and rattled up starchily to take +her place at the bedside, and Morton and the doctor went away, the doctor to +step once more into the lady’s room below to see if she was feeling quite +herself again after her faint. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse leaned over the boy with a glass and spoon. He looked at it +curiously, unknowingly. It was a situation entirely outside his experience. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t you take your medicine?” asked the nurse. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked at the spoon again as it approached his lips and opened them to +speak. +</p> + +<p> +“Is—” +</p> + +<p> +In went the medicine and the boy nearly choked, but he understood and smiled. +</p> + +<p> +“A hospital?” he finished. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it’s only a house. They brought you in, you know, when you +were hurt out on the steps. You saved the little girl’s life. +Didn’t you know it?” she said kindly, her heart won by his smile. +</p> + +<p> +A beautiful look rewarded her. +</p> + +<p> +“Is de little kid—in this house?” he asked slowly, +wonderingly. It was as if he had asked if he were in heaven, there was so much +awe in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, she’s here,” answered the nurse lightly. +“Perhaps they’ll bring her in to see you sometime. Her +father’s very grateful. He thinks it showed wonderful courage in you to +risk your life for her sake.” +</p> + +<p> +But Mikky comprehended nothing about gratitude. He only took in the fact that +the beautiful baby was in the house and might come there to see him. He settled +to sleep quite happily with an occasional glad wistful glance toward the door, +as the long lashes sank on the white cheeks, for the first sleep the boy had +ever taken in a clean, white, soft bed. The prim nurse, softened for once from +her precise attention to duties, stood and looked upon the lovely face of the +sleeping child, wondered what his life had been, and how the future would be +for him. She half pitied him that the ball had not gone nearer to the vital +spot and taken him to heaven ere he missed the way, so angel-like his face +appeared in the soft light of the sick room, with the shining gold hair fluffed +back upon the pillow now, like a halo. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap02"></a>Chapter II</h3> + +<p> +Little Starr Endicott, sleeping in her costly lace-draped crib on her downy +embroidered pillow, knew nothing of the sin and hate and murder that rolled in +a great wave on the streets outside, and had almost touched her own little life +and blotted it out. She knew not that three notable families whose names were +interwoven in her own, and whose blood flowed in her tiny veins represented the +great hated class of the Rich, and that those upon whom they had climbed to +this height looked upon them as an evil to be destroyed; nor did she know that +she, being the last of the race, and in her name representing them all, was +hated most of all. +</p> + +<p> +Starr Delevan Endicott! It was graven upon her tiny pins and locket, upon the +circlet of gold that jewelled her finger, upon her brushes and combs; it was +broidered upon her dainty garments, and coverlets and cushions, and crooned to +her by the adoring Scotch nurse who came of a line that knew and loved an +aristocracy. The pride of the house of Starr, the wealth of the house of +Delevan, the glory of the house of Endicott, were they not all hers, this one +beautiful baby who lay in her arms to tend and to love. So mused Morton as she +hummed: +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“O hush thee my babie, thy sire was a knight,<br> +Thy mother a ladie, both gentle and bright—” +</p> + +<p> +And what cared Morton that the mother in this case was neither gentle nor +bright, but only beautiful and selfish? It did but make the child the dearer +that she had her love to herself. +</p> + +<p> +And so the little Starr lay sleeping in her crib, and the boy, her preserver, +from nobody knew where, and of nobody knew what name or fame, lay sleeping +also. And presently Delevan Endicott himself came to look at them both. +</p> + +<p> +He came from the swirl of the sinful turbulent world outside, and from his +fretting, petted wife’s bedside. She had been fretting at him for +allowing a bank in which he happened to be president to do anything which +should cause such a disturbance outside her home, when he knew she was so +nervous. Not one word about the little step that had stood for an instant +between her baby and eternity. Her husband reminded her gently how near their +baby had come to death, and how she should rejoice that she was safe, but her +reply had been a rush of tears, and “Oh, yes, you always think of the +baby, never of me, your wife!” +</p> + +<p> +With a sigh the man had turned from his fruitless effort to calm her troubled +mind and gone to his little daughter. He had hoped that his wife would go with +him, but he saw the hopelessness of that idea. +</p> + +<p> +The little girl lay with one plump white arm thrown over her head, the curling +baby fingers just touching the rosy cheek, flushed with sleep. She looked like +a rosebud herself, so beautiful among the rose and lacey draperies of her +couch. Her dark curls, so fine and soft and wonderful, with their hidden purple +shadows, and the long dark curling lashes, to match the finely pencilled brows, +brought out each delicate feature of the lovely little face. The father, as he +looked down upon her, wondered how it could have been in the heart of any +creature, no matter how wicked, to put out this vivid little life. His little +Starr, his one treasure! +</p> + +<p> +The man that had tried to do it, could he have intended it really, or was it +only a random shot? The testimony of those who saw judged it intention. The +father’s quickened heart-beats told him it was, and he felt that the +thrust had gone deep. How they had meant to hurt him! How they must have hated +him to have wished to hurt him so! How they would have hurt his life +irretrievably if the shot had done its work. If that other little atom of human +life had not intervened! +</p> + +<p> +Where was the boy who had saved his child? He must go and see him at once. The +gratitude of a lifetime should be his. +</p> + +<p> +Morton divined his thought, as he stepped from the sacred crib softly after +bending low to sweep his lips over the rosy velvet of little Starr’s +cheek. With silent tread she followed her master to the door: +</p> + +<p> +“The poor wee b’y’s in the far room yon,” she said in a +soft whisper, and her tone implied that his duty lay next in that direction. +The banker had often noticed this gentle suggestion in the nurse’s voice, +it minded him of something in his childhood and he invariably obeyed it. He +might have resented it if it had been less humble, less trustfully certain that +of course that was the thing that he meant to do next. He followed her +direction now without a word. +</p> + +<p> +The boy had just fallen asleep when he entered, and lay as sweetly beautiful as +the little vivid beauty he had left in the other room. The man of the world +paused and instinctively exclaimed in wonder. He had been told that it was a +little gamin who had saved his daughter from the assassin’s bullet, but +the features of this child were as delicately chiseled, his form as finely +modeled, his hair as soft and fine as any scion of a noble house might boast. +He, like the nurse, had the feeling that a young god lay before him. It was so +that Mikky always had impressed a stranger even when his face was dirty and his +feet were bare. +</p> + +<p> +The man stood with bowed head and looked upon the boy to whom he felt he owed a +debt which he could never repay. +</p> + +<p> +He recognized the child as a representative of that great unwashed throng of +humanity who were his natural enemies, because by their oppression and by +stepping upon their rights when it suited his convenience, he had risen to +where he now stood, and was able to maintain his position. He had no special +feeling for them, any of them, more than if they had been a pack of wolves +whose fangs he must keep clear of, and whose hides he must get as soon as +convenient; but this boy was different! This spirit-child with the form of +Apollo, the beauty of Adonis, and the courage of a hero! Could he have come +from the hotbeds of sin and corruption? It could not be! Sure there must be +some mistake. He must be of good birth. Enquiry must be made. Had anyone asked +the child’s name and where he lived? +</p> + +<p> +Then, as if in answer to his thought, the dark blue eyes suddenly opened. He +found them looking at him, and started as he realized it, as if a picture on +which he gazed had suddenly turned out to be alive. And yet, for the instant, +he could not summon words, but stood meeting that steady searching gaze of the +child, penetrating, questioning, as if the eyes would see and understand the +very foundation principles on which the man’s life rested. The man felt +it, and had the sensation of hastily looking at his own motives in the light of +this child’s look. Would his life bear that burning appealing glance? +</p> + +<p> +Then, unexpectedly the child’s face lit up with his wonderful smile. He +had decided to trust the man. +</p> + +<p> +Never before in all his proud and varied experience had Delevan Endicott +encountered a challenge like that. It beat through him like a mighty army and +took his heart by storm, it flashed into his eyes and dazzled him. It was the +challenge of childhood to the fatherhood of the man. With a strange new impulse +the man accepted it, and struggling to find words, could only answer with a +smile. +</p> + +<p> +A good deal passed between them before any words were spoken at all, a good +deal that the boy never forgot, and that the man liked to turn back to in his +moments of self-reproach, for somehow that boy’s eyes called forth the +best that was in him, and made him ashamed of other things. +</p> + +<p> +“Boy, who is your father?” at last asked the man huskily. He almost +dreaded to find another father owning a noble boy like this—and such a +father as he would be if it were true that he was only a street gamin. +</p> + +<p> +The boy still smiled, but a wistfulness came into his eyes. He slowly shook his +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead, is he?” asked the man more as if thinking aloud. But the boy +shook his head again. +</p> + +<p> +“No, no father,” he answered simply. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said the man, and a lump gathered in his throat. “Your +mother?” +</p> + +<p> +“No mother, never!” came the solemn answer. It seemed that he +scarcely felt that either of these were deep lacks in his assets. Very likely +fathers and mothers were not on the average desirable kindred in the +neighborhood from which he came. The man reflected and tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“Who are your folks? They’ll be worried about you. We ought to send +them word you’re doing well?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked amazed, then a laugh rippled out. +</p> + +<p> +“No folks,” he gurgled, “on’y jest de kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your brothers and sisters?” asked Endicott puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“None o’ dem,” said Mikky. “Buck an’ me’re +pards. We fights fer de other kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know it’s wrong to fight?” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky stared. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott tried to think of something to add to his little moral homily, but +somehow could not. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s very wrong to fight,” he reiterated lamely. +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s cherub mouth settled into firm lines. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s wronger not to, when de little kids is gettin’ hurt, +an’ de big fellers what ought ter work is stole away they bread, +an’ they’s hungry.” +</p> + +<p> +It was an entirely new proposition. It was the challenge of the poor against +the rich, of the weak against the strong, and from the lips of a mere babe. The +man wondered and answered not. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d fight fer your little kid!” declared the young logician. +He seemed to know by instinct that this was the father of his baby. +</p> + +<p> +Ah, now he had touched the responsive chord. The father’s face lit up. He +understood. Yes, it was right to fight for his baby girl, his little Starr, his +one treasure, and this boy had done it, given his life freely. Was that like +fighting for those other unloved, uncared-for, hungry darlings? Were they then +dear children, too, of somebody, of God, if nobody else? The boy’s eyes +were telling him plainly in one long deep look, that all the world of little +children at least was kin, and the grateful heart of the father felt that in +mere decency of gratitude he must acknowledge so much. Poor little hungry +babies. What if his darling were hungry! A sudden longing seized his soul to +give them bread at once to eat. But at least he would shower his gratitude upon +this one stray defender of their rights. +</p> + +<p> +He struggled to find words to let the child know of this feeling but only the +tears gathering quickly in his eyes spoke for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, my boy! You did fight for my little girl. I know, I’ll +never forget it of you as long as I live. You saved her life, and that’s +worth everything to me. Everything, do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +At last the words rushed forth, but his voice was husky, and those who knew him +would have declared him more moved than they had ever seen him. +</p> + +<p> +The boy understood. A slender brown hand stole out from the white coverlet and +touched his. Its outline, long and supple and graceful, spoke of patrician +origin. It was hard for the man of wealth and pride to realize that it was the +hand of the child of the common people, the people who were his enemies. +</p> + +<p> +“Is there anything you would like to have done for you, boy?” he +asked at last because the depth of emotion was more than he could bear. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked troubled. +</p> + +<p> +“I was thinkin’, ef Buck an’ them could see me, they’d +know ’twas all right. I’d like ’em fine to know how +’tis in here.” +</p> + +<p> +“You want me to bring them up to see you?” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Where can I find them, do you think?” +</p> + +<p> +“Buck, he won’t go fur, till he knows what’s comed o’ +me,” said the boy with shining confidence in his friend. +“He’d know I’d do that fur him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then it seemed there was such a thing as honor and loyalty among the lower +ranks of men—at least among the boys. The man of the world was learning a +great many things. Meekly he descended the two flights of stairs and went out +to his own front doorsteps. +</p> + +<p> +There were no crowds any more. The police were still on duty, but curious +passersby dared not linger long. The workmen had finished the windows and gone. +The man felt little hope of finding the boys, but somehow he had a strange +desire to do so. He wanted to see that face light up once more. Also, he had a +curious desire to see these youngsters from the street who could provoke such +loving anxiety from the hero upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky was right, Buck would not go far away until he knew how it was with his +comrade. He had indeed moved off at the officer’s word when the doctor +promised to bring him word later, but in his heart he did not intend to let a +soul pass in or out of that house all day that he did not see, and so he set +his young pickets here and there about the block, each with his bunch of +papers, and arranged a judicious change occasionally, to avoid trouble with the +officers. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was standing across the street on the corner by the church steps, making a +lively show of business now and then and keeping one eye on the house that had +swallowed up his partner. He was not slow to perceive that he was being +summoned by a man upon the steps, and ran eagerly up with his papers, expecting +to receive his coin, and maybe a glimpse inside the door. +</p> + +<p> +“All about der shootin’ of der bank millionaire’s +baby!” he yelled in his most finished voice of trade, and the father, +thinking of what might have been, felt a pang of horror at the careless words +from the gruff little voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know a boy named Buck?” he questioned as he deliberately +paid for the paper that was held up to him, and searched the unpromising little +face before him. Then marvelled at the sullen, sly change upon the dirty face. +</p> + +<p> +The black brows drew down forbodingly, the dark eyes reminded Mm of a caged +lion ready to spring if an opportunity offered. The child had become a man with +a criminal’s face. There was something frightful about the defiant look +with which the boy drew himself up. +</p> + +<p> +“What if I does?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only that there’s a boy in here,” motioning toward the door, +“would like very much to see him for a few minutes. If you know where he +is, I wish you’d tell him.” +</p> + +<p> +Then there came a change more marvelous than before. It was as if the divine in +the soul had suddenly been revealed through a rift in the sinful humanity. The +whole defiant face became eager, the black eyes danced with question, the brows +settled into straight pleasant lines, and the mouth sweetened as with pleasant +thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Is’t Mikky?” He asked in earnest voice. “Kin we get +in? I’ll call de kids. He’ll want ’em. He allus wants der +kids.” He placed his fingers in his mouth, stretching it into a curious +shape, and there issued forth a shriek that might have come from the mouth of +an exulting fiend, so long and shrill and sharp it was. The man on the steps, +his nerves already wrought to the snapping point, started angrily. Then +suddenly around the corner at a swift trot emerged three ragged youngsters who +came at their leader’s command swiftly and eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky wants us!” explained Buck. “Now youse foller me, +’n don’t you say nothin’ less I tell you.” +</p> + +<p> +They fell in line, behind the bank president, and followed awed within the +portal that unlocked a palace more wonderful than Aladdin’s to their +astonished gaze. +</p> + +<p> +Up the stairs they slunk, single file, the bare feet and the illy-shod alike +going silently and sleuth-like over the polished stairs. They skulked past open +doors with frightened defiant glances, the defiance of the very poor for the +very rich, the defiance that is born and bred in the soul from a face to face +existence with hunger and cold and need of every kind. They were defiant but +they took it all in, and for many a day gave details highly embellished of the +palace where Mikky lay. It seemed to them that heaven itself could show no +grander sights. +</p> + +<p> +In a stricken row against the wall, with sudden consciousness of their own +delinquencies of attire, ragged caps in hands, grimy hands behind them, they +stood and gazed upon their fallen hero-comrade. +</p> + +<p> +Clean, they had never perhaps seen his face before. The white robe that was +upon him seemed a robe of unearthly whiteness. It dazzled their gaze. The +shining of his newly-washed hair was a glory crown upon his head. They saw him +gathered into another world than any they knew. It could have seemed no worse +to them if the far heaven above the narrow city streets had opened its grim +clouds and received their comrade from their sight. They were appalled. How +could he ever be theirs again? How could it all have happened in the few short +hours since Mikky flashed past them and fell a martyr to his kindly heart and +saved the wicked rich man his child? The brows of Buck drew together in his +densest frown. He felt that Mikky, their Mikky was having some terrible change +come upon him. +</p> + +<p> +Then Mikky turned and smiled upon them all, and in his dear familiar voice +shouted, “Say, kids, ain’t this grand? Say, I jes’ wish you +was all in it! Ef you, Buck, an’ the kids was here in this yer grand bed +I’d be havin’ the time o’ me life!” +</p> + +<p> +That turned the tide. Buck swallowed hard and smiled his darker smile, and the +rest grinned sheepishly. Grandeur and riches had not spoiled their prince. He +was theirs still and he had wanted them. He had sent for them. They gained +courage to look around on the spotlessly clean room, on the nurse in her +crackling dignity; on the dish of oranges which she promptly handed to them and +of which each in awe partook a golden sphere; on the handful of bright flowers +that Morton had brought but a few minutes before and placed on a little stand +by the bed; on the pictures that hung upon the walls, the like of which they +had never seen, before, and then back to the white white bed that held their +companion. They could not get used to the whiteness and the cleanness of his +clean, clean face and hands, and bright gold hair. It burned like a flame +against the pillow, and Mikky’s blue eyes seemed darker and deeper than +ever before. To Buck they had given their obedient following, and looked to him +for protection, but after all he was one like themselves, only a little more +fearless. To Mikky they all gave a kind of far-seeing adoration. He was +fearless and brave like Buck, but he was something more. In their superstitious +fear and ignorance he seemed to them almost supernatural. +</p> + +<p> +They skulked, silently down the stairs like frightened rabbits when the +interview was over, each clutching his precious orange, and not until the great +doors had closed upon them, did they utter a word. They had said very little. +Mikky had done all the talking. +</p> + +<p> +When they had filed down the street behind their leader, and rounded the corner +out of sight of the house, Buck gathered them into a little knot and said +solemnly: “Kids. I bet cher Mik don’t be comin’ out o’ +this no more. Didn’t you take notice how he looked jes’ like the +angel top o’ the monnemunt down to the cemtary?” +</p> + +<p> +The little group took on a solemnity that was deep and real. +</p> + +<p> +“Annyhow, he wanted us!” spoke up a curly-headed boy with old eyes +and a thin face. He was one whom Mikky had been won’t to defend. He bore +a hump upon his ragged back. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw! he’s all right fer us, is Mik,” said Buck, “but +he’s different nor us. Old Aunt Sal she said one day he were named fer a +’n’angel, an’ like as not he’ll go back where he +b’longs some day, but he won’t never fergit us. He ain’t like +rich folks what don’t care. He’s our pard allus. Come on, +fellers.” +</p> + +<p> +Down the back alley went the solemn little procession, single file, till they +reached the rear of the Endicott house, where they stood silent as before a +shrine, till at a signal from their leader, each grimy right hand was raised, +and gravely each ragged cap was taken off and held high in the air toward the +upper window, where they knew their hero-comrade lay. Then they turned and +marched silently away. +</p> + +<p> +They were all in place before the door whenever the doctor came thereafter, and +always went around by the way of the alley afterward for their ceremonial good +night, sometimes standing solemnly beneath the cold stars while the shrill wind +blew through their thin garments, but always as long as the doctor brought them +word, or as long as the light burned in the upper window, they felt their +comrade had not gone yet. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap03"></a>Chapter III</h3> + +<p> +Heaven opened for Mikky on the day when Morton, with the doctor’s +permission, brought Baby Starr to see him. +</p> + +<p> +The baby, in her nurse’s arms, gazed down upon her rescuer with the +unprejudiced eyes of childhood. Mikky’s smile flashed upon her and +forthwith she answered with a joyous laugh of glee. The beautiful boy pleased +her ladyship. She reached out her roseleaf hands to greet him. +</p> + +<p> +The nurse held her down to the bed: +</p> + +<p> +“Kiss the wee b’y, that’s a good baby. Kiss the wee +b’y. He took care of baby and saved her life when the bad man tried to +hurt her. Kiss the wee b’y and say ‘I thank you,’” +commanded Morton. +</p> + +<p> +The saving of her life meant nothing to little Starr, but she obediently +murmured ‘I’ee tank oo!’ as the nurse had drilled her to do +before she brought her, and then laid her moist pink lips on cheeks, forehead, +eyes and mouth in turn, and Mikky, in ecstasy, lay trembling with the pleasure +of it. No one had ever kissed him before. Kissing was not in vogue in the +street where he existed. +</p> + +<p> +Thereafter, every day until he was convalescent, Starr came to visit him. +</p> + +<p> +By degrees he grew accustomed to her gay presence enough to talk with her +freely as child with child. Her words were few and her tongue as yet quite +unacquainted with the language of this world; but perhaps that was all the +better, for their conversations were more of the spirit than of the tongue, +Mikky’s language, of circumstance, being quite unlike that of Madison +Avenue. +</p> + +<p> +Starr brought her wonderful electric toys and dolls, and Mikky looked at them +with wonder, yet always with a kind of rare indifference, because the child +herself was to him the wonder of all wonders, an angel spirit stooped to earth. +And every day, when the nurse carried her small charge away after her frolic +with the boy, she would always lift her up to the bed and say: +</p> + +<p> +“Now kiss the wee b’y, Baby Starr, and thank him again fer +savin’ yer life.” +</p> + +<p> +And Starr would lay her soft sweet mouth on his as tenderly and gravely as if +she understood the full import of her obligation. At such times Mikky would +watch her bright face as it came close to his, and when her lips touched his he +would close his eyes as if to shut out all things else from this sacred +ceremony. After Starr and Morton were gone the nurse was wont to look furtively +toward the bed and note the still, lovely face of the boy whose eyes were +closed as if to hold the vision and memory the longer. At such times her heart +would draw her strangely from her wonted formality and she would touch the boy +with a tenderness that was not natural to her. +</p> + +<p> +There were other times when Mr. Endicott would come and talk briefly with the +boy, just to see his eyes light and his face glow with that wonderful smile, +and to think what it would be if the boy were his own. Always Mikky enjoyed +these little talks, and when his visitor was gone he would think with +satisfaction that this was just the right kind of a father for his little +lovely Starr. He was glad the Baby Starr had a father. He had often wondered +what it would be like to have a father, and now he thought he saw what the +height of desire in a father might be. Not that he felt a great need for +himself in the way of fathers. He had taken care of himself since he could +remember and felt quite grown up and fathers usually drank; but a baby like +that needed a father, and he liked Starr’s father. +</p> + +<p> +But the dearest thing now in life for him was little Starr’s kisses. +</p> + +<p> +To the father, drawn first by gratitude to the boy who had saved his +child’s life, and afterwards by the boy’s own irresistible smile, +these frequent visits had become a pleasure. There had been a little boy before +Starr came to their home, but he had only lived a few weeks. The memory of that +golden, fuzzy head, the little appealing fingers, the great blue eyes of his +son still lingered bitterly in the father’s heart. When he first looked +upon this waif the fancy seized him that, perhaps his own boy would have been +like this had he lived, and a strange and unexpected tenderness entered his +heart for Mikky. He kept going to the little invalid’s room night after +night, pleasing himself with the thought that the boy was his own. +</p> + +<p> +So strong a hold did this fancy take upon the man’s heart that he +actually began to consider the feasibility of adopting the child and bringing +him up as his own—this, after he had by the aid of detectives, thoroughly +searched out all that was known of him and found that no one owned Mikky nor +seemed to care what became of him except Buck and his small following. And all +the time the child, well fed, well cared for, happier than he had ever dreamed +of being in all his little hard life, rapidly convalesced. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott came home one afternoon to find Mikky down in the reception room +dressed in black velvet and rare old lace, with his glorious sheaf of golden +hair which had grown during his illness tortured into ringlets, and an adoring +group of ladies gathered about him, as he stood with troubled, almost haughty +mien, and gravely regarded their maudlin sentimentalities. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott had paid no attention to the boy heretofore, and her sudden +interest in him came from a chance view of him as he sat up in a big chair for +the first time, playing a game with little Starr. His big eyes and beautiful +hair attracted her at once, and she lost no time in dressing him up like a doll +and making him a show at one of her receptions. +</p> + +<p> +When her husband remonstrated with her, declaring that such treatment would +ruin the spirit of any real boy, and spoil him for life, she shrugged her +shoulders indifferently, and answered: +</p> + +<p> +“Well, what if it does? He’s nothing but a foundling. He ought to +be glad we are willing to dress him up prettily and play with him for a +while.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what would you do with him after you were done using him for a toy? +Cast him aside?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why not?” with another shrug of her handsome shoulders. +“Or, perhaps we might teach him to be a butler or footman if you want to +be benevolent. He would be charming in a dark blue uniform!” +</p> + +<p> +The woman raised her delicate eyebrows, humming a light tune, and her husband +turned from her in despair. Was it nothing at all to her that this child had +saved the life of her baby? +</p> + +<p> +That settled the question of adoption. His wife would never be the one to bring +up the boy into anything like manhood. It was different with a girl—she +must of necessity be frivolous, he supposed. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning an old college friend came into his office, a plain man with a +pleasant face, who had not gone from college days to a bank presidency. He was +only a plain teacher in a little struggling college in Florida, and he came +soliciting aid for the college. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned from puzzling over the question of Mikky, to greet his old +friend whom he had not seen for twenty years. He was glad to see him. He had +always liked him. He looked him over critically, however, with his +successful-business-man-of-New-York point of view. He noticed the plain cheap +business suit, worn shiny in places, the shoes well polished but beginning to +break at the side, the plentiful sprinkling of gray hairs, and then his eyes +travelled to the kind, worn face of his friend. In spite of himself he could +not but feel that the man was happier than himself. +</p> + +<p> +He asked many questions, and found a keen pleasure in hearing all about the +little family of the other, and their happy united efforts to laugh off poverty +and have a good time anyway. Then the visitor told of the college, its +struggles, its great needs and small funds, how its orange crop, which was a +large part of its regular income, had failed that year on account of the frost, +and they were in actual need of funds to carry on the work of the immediate +school year. Endicott found his heart touched, though he was not as a rule a +large giver to anything. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d be glad to help you Harkness,” he said at last, +“but I’ve got a private benevolence on my hands just now that is +going to take a good deal of money, I’m afraid. You see we’ve +narrowly escaped a tragedy at our house—” and he launched into the +story of the shooting, and his own indebtedness to Mikky. +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said the Professor, “you feel that you owe it to +that lad to put him in the way of a better life, seeing that he freely gave his +life for your child’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly!” said Endicott, “and I’d like to adopt him +and bring him up as my own, but it doesn’t seem feasible. I don’t +think my wife would feel just as I do about it, and I’m not sure +I’d be doing the best after all for the boy. To be taken from one extreme +to another might ruin him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Endicott, why don’t you combine your debt to the child with +benevolence and send him down to us for a few years to educate.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott sat up interestedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Could I do that; Would they take so young a child? He can’t be +over seven.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, we would take him, I think. He’d be well cared for; and his +tuition in the prep department would help the institution along. Every little +helps, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott suddenly saw before him the solution of his difficulties. He entered +eagerly into the matter, talking over rates, plans and so on. An hour later it +was all settled. Mikky was to take a full course with his expenses all prepaid, +and a goodly sum placed in the bank for his clothing and spending money. He was +to have the best room the school afforded, at the highest price, and was to +take music and art and everything else that was offered, for Endicott meant to +do the handsome thing by the institution. The failure of the bank of which he +was president had in no wise affected his own private fortune. +</p> + +<p> +“If the boy doesn’t seem to develop an interest in some of these +branches, put some deserving one in his place, and put him at something +else,” he said. “I want him to have his try at everything, develop +the best that is in him. So we’ll pay for everything you’ve got +there, and that will help out some other poor boy perhaps, for, of course one +boy can’t do everything. I’ll arrange it with my lawyer that the +payments shall be made regularly for the next twelve years, so that if anything +happens to me, or if this boy runs away or doesn’t turn out worthy, you +will keep on getting the money just the same, and some one else can come in on +it.” +</p> + +<p> +Professor Harkness went away from the office with a smile on his face and in +his pocket three letters of introduction to wealthy benevolent business men of +New York. Mikky was to go South with him the middle of the next week. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott went home that afternoon with relief of mind, but he found in his +heart a most surprising reluctance to part with the beautiful boy. +</p> + +<p> +When the banker told Mikky that he was going to send him to +“college,” and explained to him that an education would enable him +to become a good man and perhaps a great one, the boy’s face was very +grave. Mikky had never felt the need of an education, and the thought of going +away from New York gave him a sensation as if the earth were tottering under +his feet. He shook his head doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Kin I take Buck an’ de kids?” he asked after a thoughtful +pause, and with a lifting of the cloud in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Endicott. “It costs a good deal to go away to +school, and there wouldn’t be anyone to send them.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s eyes grew wide with something like indignation, and he shook his +head. +</p> + +<p> +“Nen I couldn’t go,” he said decidedly. “I +couldn’t take nothin’ great like that and not give de kids any. +We’ll stick together. I’ll stay wid de kids. They needs me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Mikky—” the man looked into the large determined eyes +and settled down for combat—“you don’t understand, boy. It +would be impossible for them to go. I couldn’t send them all, but I +<i>can</i> send you, and I’m going to, because you risked your life to +save little Starr.” +</p> + +<p> +“That wasn’t nothin’ t’all!” declared Mikky with +fine scorn. +</p> + +<p> +“It was everything to me,” said the man, “and I want to do +this for you. And boy, it’s your duty to take this. It’s +everybody’s duty to take the opportunities for advancement that come to +them.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky looked at him thoughtfully. He did not understand the large words, and +duty meant to him a fine sense of loyalty to those who had been loyal to him. +</p> + +<p> +“I got to stay wid de kids,” he said. “Dey needs me.” +</p> + +<p> +With an exasperated feeling that it was useless to argue against this calmly +stated fact, Endicott began again gently: +</p> + +<p> +“But Mikky, you can help them a lot more by going to college than by +staying at home.” +</p> + +<p> +The boy’s eyes looked unconvinced but he waited for reasons. +</p> + +<p> +“If you get to be an educated man you will be able to earn money and help +them. You can lift them up to better things; build good houses for them to live +in; give them work to do that will pay good wages, and help them to be good +men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you educated?” +</p> + +<p> +Thinking he was making progress Endicott nodded eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that wot you does fer folks?” The bright eyes searched his face +eagerly, keenly, doubtfully. +</p> + +<p> +The color flooded the bank-president’s cheeks and forehead uncomfortably. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,—I might—” he answered. “Yes, I might do a +great deal for people, I suppose. I don’t know as I do much, but I could +if I had been interested in them.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused. He realized that the argument was weakened. Mikky studied his face. +</p> + +<p> +“But dey needs me now, de kids does,” he said gravely, +“Jimmie, he don’t have no supper most nights less’n I share; +and Bobs is so little he can’t fight dem alley kids; n’ sometimes I +gets a flower off’n the florist’s back door fer little sick Jane. +Her’s got a crutch, and can’t walk much anyhow; and cold nights me +an’ Buck we sleeps close. We got a box hid away where we sleeps close +an’ keeps warm.” +</p> + +<p> +The moisture gathered in the eyes of the banker as he listened to the innocent +story. It touched his heart as nothing ever had before. He resolved that after +this his education and wealth should at least help these little slum friends of +Mikky to an occasional meal, or a flower, or a warm bed. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you get Buck to take your place with the kids while you go to +school and get an education and learn how to help them better.” +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s golden head negatived this slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck, he’s got all he kin do to git grub fer hisse’f +an’ his sister Jane. His father is bad, and kicks Jane, and don’t +get her nothin’ to eat. Buck he has to see after Janie.” +</p> + +<p> +“How would it be for you to pay Buck something so that he could take your +place? I will give you some money that you may do as you like with, and you can +pay Buck as much as you think he needs every week. You can send it to him in a +letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would it be as much as a quarter?” Mikky held his breath in wonder +and suspense. +</p> + +<p> +“Two quarters if you like.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! could I do that?” The boy’s face fairly shone, and he +came and threw his arms about Endicott’s neck and laid his face against +his. The man clasped him close and would fain have kept him there, for his well +ordered heart was deeply stirred. +</p> + +<p> +Thus it was arranged. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was invited to an interview, but when the silver half dollar was laid in +his grimy palm, and he was made to understand that others were to follow, and +that he was to step up into Mikky’s place in the community of the +children while that luminary went to “college” to be educated, his +face wore a heavy frown. He held out the silver sphere as if it burned him. +What! Take money in exchange for Mikky’s bright presence? Never! +</p> + +<p> +It took a great deal of explanation to convince Buck that anything could be +better “fer de kids” than Mikky, their own Mikky, now and forever. +He was quick, however, to see where the good lay for Mikky, and after a few +plain statements from Mr. Endicott there was no further demur on the part of +the boy. Buck was willing to give up Mikky for Mikky’s good but not for +his own. But it was a terrible sacrifice. The hard little face knotted itself +into a fierce expression when he came to say good-bye. The long scrawny throat +worked convulsively, the hands gripped each other savagely. It was like handing +Mikky over to another world than theirs, and though he confidently promised to +return to them so soon as the college should have completed the mysterious +process of education, and to live with them as of yore, sleeping in +Buck’s box alongside, and taking care of the others when the big alley +kids grew troublesome, somehow an instinct taught them that he would never +return again. They had had him, and they would never forget him, but he would +grow into a being far above them. They looked vindictively at the great rich +man who had perpetrated this evil device of a college life for their comrade. +It was the old story of the helpless poor against the powerful rich. Even +heart-beats counted not against such power. Mikky must go. +</p> + +<p> +They went to the great station on the morning when Mikky was to depart and +stood shivering and forlorn until the train was called. They listened sullenly +while Professor Harkness told them that if they wished to be fit to associate +with their friend when he came out of college they must begin at once to +improve all their opportunities. First of all they must go to school, and study +hard, and then their friend in college would be proud to call them friends. +They did not think it worth while to tell the kindly but ignorant professor +that they had no time for school, and no clothes to wear if they had the time +or the inclination to go. Schools were everywhere, free, of course, but it did +not touch them. They lived in dark places and casual crannies, like weeds or +vermin. No one cared whether they went to school. No one suggested it. They +would have as soon thought of entering a great mansion and insisting on their +right to live there as to present themselves at school. Why, they had to hustle +for a mere existence. They were the water rats, the bad boys, the embryo +criminals for the next generation. The problem, with any who thought of them +was how to get rid of them. But of course this man from another world did not +understand. They merely looked at him dully and wished he would walk away and +leave Mikky to them while he stayed. His presence made it seem as if their +companion were already gone from them. +</p> + +<p> +It was hard, too, to see Mikky dressed like the fine boys on Fifth Avenue, +handsome trousers and coat, and a great thick overcoat, a hat on his shining +crown of hair that had always been guiltless of cap, thick stockings and +shining shoes on his feet that had always been bare and soiled with the grime +of the streets—gloves on his hands. This was a new Mikky. “The +kids” did not know him. In spite of their best efforts they could not be +natural. Great lumps arose in their throats, lumps that never dared arise for +hunger or cold or curses at home. +</p> + +<p> +They stood helpless before their own consciousness, and Mikky, divining the +trouble with that exquisite keenness of a spirit sent from heaven to make earth +brighter, conceived the bright idea of giving each of his comrades some article +of his apparel as a remembrance. Mr. Endicott came upon the scene just in time +to keep Mikky from taking off his overcoat and enveloping Buck in its elegant +folds. He was eagerly telling them that Bobs should have his undercoat, Jimmie +his hat; they must take his gloves to Jane, and there was nothing left for Sam +but his stockings and shoes, but he gave them all willingly. He seemed to see +no reason why he could not travel hatless and coatless, bare of foot and hand, +for had he not gone that way through all the years of his existence? It was a +small thing to do, for his friends whom he was leaving for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +The bright face clouded when he was told he could not give these things away, +that it would not be fair to the kind professor to ask him to carry with him a +boy not properly dressed. But he smiled again trustfully when Endicott promised +to take the whole group to a clothing house and fit them out. +</p> + +<p> +They bade Mikky good-bye, pressing their grimy noses against the bars of the +station gate to watch their friend disappear from their bare little lives. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott himself felt like crying as he came back from seeing the boy aboard +the train. Somehow it went hard for him to feel, he should not meet the bright +smile that night when he went home. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not the way of “the kids” to cry when tragedy fell among +them. They did not cry now—when he came back to them they regarded the +banker with lowering brows as the originator of their bereavement. They had no +faith in the promised clothing. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, what’s he givin’ us!” Buck had breathed under his +breath. But to do Buck credit he had not wanted to take Mikky’s coat from +him. When their comrade went from them into another walk in life he must go +proudly apparelled. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott led the huddled group away from the station, to a clothing house, and +amused himself by fitting them out. The garments were not of as fine material, +nor elegant a cut as those he had pleased himself by purchasing for +Mikky’s outfit, but they were warm and strong and wonderful to their +eyes, and one by one the grimy urchins went into a little dressing room, +presently emerging with awe upon their faces to stand before a tall mirror +surveying themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott presently bade the little company farewell and with a conscience at +ease with himself and all mankind left them. +</p> + +<p> +They issued from the clothing house with scared expressions and walked solemnly +a few blocks. Then Buck called them to a halt before a large plate glass +show-window. +</p> + +<p> +“Take a good look at yersel’s, kids,” he ordered, +“an’ we’ll go up to the Park an’ shine around, +an’ see how ther swells feels, then we’ll go down to Sheeny’s +an’ sell ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sell ’em! Can’t we keep ’em?” pitifully demanded +Bobs who had never felt warm in winter in all his small life before. +</p> + +<p> +“You wouldn’t hev ’em long,” sneered Buck. “That +father o’ yourn would hey ’em pawned ’afore night; You better +enjoy ’em a while, an’ then git the money. It’s safer!” +</p> + +<p> +The children with wisdom born of their unhappy circumstances recognized this +truth. They surveyed themselves gravely in their fleeting grandeur and then +turned to walk up to the aristocratic part of town, a curious little +procession. They finished by rounding the Madison Avenue block, marched up the +alley, and gave the salute with new hats toward the window where their Prince +and Leader used to be. He was no longer there, but his memory was about them, +and the ceremony did their bursting little hearts good. Their love for Mikky +was the noblest thing that had so far entered their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Jimmie suggested that they must let Jane see them before they disposed forever +of their elegant garments, so Bobs, minus coat, hat, stockings and shoes was +sent to bid her to a secluded retreat at the far end of the alley. Bobs hurried +back ahead of her little tapping crutch to don his fine attire once more before +she arrived. +</p> + +<p> +Little Jane, sallow of face, unkempt of hair, tattered of clothing and +shivering in the cold twilight stood and watched the procession of pride as it +passed and repassed before her delighted eyes. The festivity might have been +prolonged but that the maudlin voice of Bobs’ father reeling into the +alley struck terror to their hearts, and with small ceremony they scuttled away +to the pawnshop, leaving little Jane to hobble back alone to her cellar and +wonder how it would feel to wear a warm coat like one of those. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee!” said Jimmie as they paused with one consent before the shop +door, and looked reluctantly down at their brief glory, “Gee! I wisht we +could keep jest one coat fer little Jane!” +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t we hide it some’ere’s?” asked Sam, and +they all looked at Buck. +</p> + +<p> +Buck, deeply touched for his sister’s sake, nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep Jim’s,” he said huskily, “it’ll do her +best.” +</p> + +<p> +Then the little procession filed proudly in and gave up their garments to the +human parasite who lived on the souls of other men, and came away bearing the +one coat they had saved for Janie, each treasuring a pitiful bit of money which +seemed a fortune in their eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Little Jane received her gift with true spirit when it was presented, skilfully +hid it from her inhuman father, and declared that each boy should have a turn +at wearing the coat every Sunday at some safe hour, whereat deep satisfaction, +reigned among them. Their grandeur was not all departed after all. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, Mikky, in his luxurious berth in a sleeper, smiled drowsily to think +of the fine new clothes that his friends must be wearing, and then fell asleep +to dream of little Starr’s kisses on his closed eyelids. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap04"></a>Chapter IV</h3> + +<p> +Into a new world came Mikky, a world of blue skies, song birds, and high, tall +pines with waving moss and dreamy atmosphere; a world of plenty to eat and +wear, and light and joy and ease. +</p> + +<p> +Yet it was a most bewildering world to the boy, and for the first week he stood +off and looked at it questioningly, suspiciously. True, there were no dark +cellars or freezing streets, no drunken fathers or frightened children, or +blows, or hunger or privation; but this education he had come to seek that he +might go back to his own world and better it, was not a garment one put on and +exercised in so many times a day; it was not a cup from which one drank, nor an +atmosphere that one absorbed. It was a strange, imperceptible thing got at in +some mysterious way by a series of vague struggles followed by sudden and +almost alarming perceptions. For a time it seemed to the boy, keen though his +mind, and quick, that knowledge was a thing only granted to the few, and his +was a mind that would never grasp it. How, for instance, did one know how to +make just the right figures under a line when one added a long perplexity of +numbers? Mikky the newsboy could tell like a flash how much change he needed to +return to the fat gentleman who occasionally gave him a five-dollar bill to +change on Broadway; but Mikky the scholar, though he knew figures, and was able +to study out with labor easy words in his papers, had never heard of adding up +figures in the way they did here, long rows of them on the blackboard. It +became necessary that this boy should have some private instruction before he +would be able to enter classes. Professor Harkness himself undertook the task, +and gradually revealed to the child’s neglected understanding some of the +simple rudiments that would make his further progress possible. The sum that +was paid for his tuition made it quite necessary that the boy advance +reasonably, for his benefactor had made it understood that he might some day +visit the institution and see how he was getting on. So great pains were taken +to enlighten Mikky’s darkness. +</p> + +<p> +There was another thing that the boy could not understand, and that was the +discipline that ruled everywhere. He had always been a law unto himself, his +only care being to keep out of the way of those who would interfere with this. +Now he must rise with a bell, stay in his room until another bell, eat at a +bell, go to the hard bench in the schoolroom with another bell, and even play +ball when the recreation bell rang. It was hard on an independent spirit to get +used to all this, and while he had no mind to be disorderly, he often broke +forth into direct disobedience of the law from sheer misunderstanding of the +whole régime. +</p> + +<p> +The boys’ dormitory was presided over by a woman who, while thorough in +all housekeeping arrangements, had certainly mistaken her calling as a +substitute mother for boys. She kept their clothes in order, saw to it that +their rooms were aired, their stockings darned and their lights out at exactly +half-past nine, but the grimness of her countenance forbade any familiarity, +and she never thought of gaining the confidence of her rough, but affectionate +charges. There was no tenderness in her, and Mikky never felt like smiling in +her presence. He came and went with a sort of high, unconscious superiority +that almost irritated the woman, because she was not great enough to see the +unusual spirit of the child; and as a consequence she did not win his heart. +</p> + +<p> +But he did not miss the lack of motherliness in her, for he had never known a +mother and was not expecting it. +</p> + +<p> +The professors he grew to like, some more, some less, always admiring most +those who seemed to him to deal in a fair and righteous manner with their +classes—fairness being judged by the code in use among “the +kids” in New York. But that was before he grew to know the president. +After that his code changed. +</p> + +<p> +His first interview with that dignitary was on an afternoon when he had been +overheard by the matron to use vile language among the boys at the noon hour. +She hauled him up with her most severe manner, and gave him to understand that +he must answer to the president for his conduct. +</p> + +<p> +As Mikky had no conception of his offence he went serenely to his fate walking +affably beside her, only wishing she would not look so sour. As they crossed +the campus to the president’s house a blue jay flew overhead, and a +mocking bird trilled in a live oak near-by. The boy’s face lighted with +joy and he laughed out gleefully, but the matron only looked the more severe, +for she thought him a hardened little sinner who was defying her authority and +laughing her to scorn. After that it was two years before she could really +believe anything good of Mikky. +</p> + +<p> +The president was a noble-faced, white-haired scholar, with a firm tender +mouth, a brow of wisdom, and eyes of understanding. He was not the kind who win +by great athletic prowess, he was an old-fashioned gentleman, well along in +years, but young in heart. He looked at the child of the slums and saw the +angel in the clay. +</p> + +<p> +He dismissed the matron with a pleasant assurance and took Mikky to an inner +office where he let the boy sit quietly waiting a few minutes till he had +finished writing a letter. If the pen halted and the kind eyes furtively +studied the beautiful face of the child, Mikky never knew it. +</p> + +<p> +The president asked the boy to tell him what he had said, and Mikky, with sweet +assurance repeated innocently the terrible phrases he had used, phrases which +had been familiar to him since babyhood, conveying statements of facts that +were horrible, but nevertheless daily happenings in the corner of the world +where he had brought himself up. +</p> + +<p> +With rare tact the president questioned the boy, until he made sure there was +no inherent rottenness in him: and then gently and kindly, but firmly laid down +the law and explained why it was right and necessary that there should be a +law. He spoke of the purity of God. Mikky knew nothing of God and listened with +quiet interest. The president talked of education and culture and made matters +very plain indeed. Then when the interview was concluded and the man asked the +boy for a pledge of good faith and clean language from that time forth, +Mikky’s smile of approval blazed forth and he laid his hand in that of +the president readily enough, and went forth from the room with a great secret +admiration of the man with whom he had just talked. The whole conversation had +appealed to him deeply. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky sought his room and laboriously spelled out with lately acquired +clumsiness a letter to Buck: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Dear Buck we mussent yuz endecent langwidg enay moor ner swar. God donte +lyk it an’ it ain’t educated. I want you an’ me to be +educate. I ain’t gone to, donte yoo ner let de kids.—<br> +Mikky.” +</p> + +<p> +In due time, according to previous arrangement about the monthly allowance, +this letter reached Buck, and he tracked the doctor for two whole days before +he located him and lay in wait till he came out to his carriage, when he made +bold to hand over the letter to be read. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor, deeply touched, translated as best he could. Buck’s education +had been pitifully neglected. He watched the mystic paper in awe as the doctor +read. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’s indecent langwidge?” he asked with his heavy frown. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor took the opportunity to deliver a brief sermon on purity, and Buck, +without so much as an audible thank you, but with a thoughtful air that pleased +the doctor, took back his letter, stuffed it into his ragged pocket and went on +his way. The man watched him wistfully, wondering whether Mikky’s appeal +could reach the hardened little sinner; and, sighing at the wickedness of the +world, went on his way grimly trying to make a few things better. +</p> + +<p> +That night “the kids” were gathered in front of little +Janie’s window, for she was too weak to go out with them, and Buck +delivered a lesson in ethical culture. Whatever Mikky, their Prince, ordered, +that must be done, and Buck was doing his level best, although for the life of +him he couldn’t see the sense in it. But thereafter none of “the +kids” were allowed to use certain words and phrases, and swearing +gradually became eliminated from their conversation. It would have been a +curious study for a linguist to observe just what words and phrases were cut +out, and what were allowed to flourish unrebuked; but nevertheless it was a +reform, and Buck was doing his best. +</p> + +<p> +With his schoolmates Mikky had a curiously high position even from the first. +His clothes were good and he had always a little money to spend. That had been +one of Endicott’s wishes that the boy should be like other boys. It meant +something among a group of boys, most of whom were the sons of rich fathers, +sent down to Florida on account of weak lungs or throats. Moreover, he was +brave beyond anything they had ever seen before, could fight like a demon in +defense of a smaller boy, and did not shrink from pitching into a fellow twice +his size. He could tell all about the great base-ball and foot-ball games of +New York City, knew the pitchers by name and yet did not boast uncomfortably. +He could swim like a duck and dive fearlessly. He could outrun them all, by his +lightness of foot, and was an expert in gliding away from any hand that sought +to hold him back. They admired him from the first. +</p> + +<p> +His peculiar street slang did not trouble them in the least, nor his lack of +class standing, though that presently began to be a thing of the past, for +Mikky, so soon as he understood the way, marched steadily, rapidly, up the hill +of knowledge, taking in everything that was handed out to him and assimilating +it. It began to look as if there would not be any left over courses in the +curriculum that might be given to some other deserving youth. Mikky would need +them all. The president and the professors began presently to be deeply +interested in this boy without a past; and everywhere, with every one, +Mikky’s smile won his way; except with the matron, who had not forgiven +him that her recommendation of his instant dismissal from the college had not +been accepted. +</p> + +<p> +The boys had not asked many questions about him, nor been told much. They knew +his father and mother were dead. They thought he had a rich guardian, perhaps a +fortune some day coming, they did not care. Mikky never spoke about any of +these things and there was a strange reticence about him that made them dislike +to ask him questions; even, when they came to know him well. He was entered +under the name of Endicott, because, on questioning him Professor Harkness +found he could lay no greater claim to any other surname, and called him that +until he could write to Mr. Endicott for advice. He neglected to write at once +and then, the name having become fastened upon the boy, he thought it best to +let the matter alone as there was little likelihood of Mr. Endicott’s +coming down to the college, and it could do no harm. He never stopped to think +out possible future complications and the boy became known as Michael Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +But his companions, as boys will, thought the matter over, and rechristened him +“Angel”; and Angel, or Angel Endy he became, down to the end of his +college course. +</p> + +<p> +One great delight of his new life was the out-of-door freedom he enjoyed. A +beautiful lake spread its silver sheet at the foot of the campus slope and here +the boy revelled in swimming and rowing. The whole country round was filled +with wonder to his city-bred eyes. He attached himself to the teacher of +natural sciences, and took long silent tramps for miles about. They penetrated +dense hammocks, gathering specimens of rare orchids and exquisite flowers; they +stood motionless and breathless for hours watching and listening to some +strange wild bird; they became the familiar of slimy coiling serpents in dark +bogs, and of green lizards and great black velvet spiders; they brought home +ravishing butterflies and moths of pale green and gold and crimson. +Mikky’s room became a museum of curious and wonderful things, and himself +an authority on a wide and varied range of topics. +</p> + +<p> +The new life with plenty of wholesome plain food, plenty of fresh air, long +nights of good sleep, and happy exercise were developing the young body into +strength and beauty, even as the study and contact, with life were developing +the mind. Mikky grew up tall and straight and strong. In all the school, even +among the older boys, there was none suppler, none so perfectly developed. His +face and form were beautiful as Adonis, and yet it was no pink and white +feminine beauty. There was strength, simplicity and character in his face. With +the acceptance of his new code of morals according to the president, had grown +gradually a certain look of high moral purpose. No boy in his presence dared +use language not up to the standard. No boy with his knowledge dared do a mean +or wrong thing. And yet, in spite of this, not a boy in the school but admired +him and was more or less led by him. If he had been one whit less brave, one +shade more conscious of self and self’s interests, one tiny bit +conceited, this would not have been. But from being a dangerous experiment in +their midst Mikky became known as a great influence for good. The teachers saw +it and marvelled. The matron saw it and finally, though grudgingly, accepted +it. The president saw it and rejoiced. The students saw it not, but +acknowledged it in their lives. +</p> + +<p> +Mikky’s flame of gold hair had grown more golden and flaming with the +years, so that when their ball team went to a near-by town to play, Mikky was +sighted by the crowd and pointed out conspicuously at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Who is that boy with the hair?” some one would ask one of the +team. +</p> + +<p> +“That? Oh, that’s the Angel! Wait till you see him play,” +would be the reply. And he became known among outsiders as the Angel with the +golden hair. At a game a listener would hear: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, see! see! There’ll be something doing now. The Angel’s +at the bat!” +</p> + +<p> +Yet in spite of all this the boy lived a lonely life. Giving of himself +continually to those about him, receiving in return their love and devotion, he +yet felt in a great sense set apart from them all. Every now and again some +boy’s father or mother, or both, would come down for a trip through the +South; or a sister or a little brother. Then that boy would be excused from +classes and go off with his parents for perhaps a whole week; or they would +come to visit him every day, and Michael would look on and see the love light +beaming in their eyes. That would never be for him. No one had ever loved him +in that way. +</p> + +<p> +Sometimes he would close his eyes and try to get back in memory to the time +when he was shot; and the wonder of the soft bed, the sweet room, and little +Starr’s kisses. But the years were multiplying now and room and nurse and +all were growing very dim. Only little Starr’s kisses remained, a +delicate fragrance of baby love, the only kisses that the boy had ever known. +One day, when a classmate had been telling of the coming of his father and what +it would mean to him, Michael went into his room and locking his door sat down +and wrote a stiff school boy letter to his benefactor, thanking him for all +that he had done for him. It told briefly, shyly of a faint realization of that +from which he had been saved; it showed a proper respect, and desire to make +good, and it touched the heart of the busy man who had almost forgotten about +the boy, but it gave no hint of the heart hunger which had prompted its +writing. +</p> + +<p> +The next winter, when Michael was seventeen, Delevan Endicott and his daughter +Starr took a flying trip through the South, and stopped for a night and a day +at the college. +</p> + +<p> +The president told Michael of his expected coming. Professor Harkness had gone +north on some school business. +</p> + +<p> +The boy received the news quietly enough, with one of his brilliant smiles, but +went to his room with a tumult of wonder, joy, and almost fear in his heart. +Would Mr. Endicott be like what he remembered, kind and interested and helpful? +Would he be pleased with the progress his protégé had made, or would he be +disappointed? Would there be any chance to ask after little Starr? She was a +baby still in the thoughts of the boy, yet of course she must have grown. And +so many things might have happened—she might not be living now. No one +would think or care to tell him. +</p> + +<p> +Baby Starr! His beautiful baby! He exulted in the thought that he had flung his +little useless life, once, between her lovely presence and death! He would do +it again gladly now if that would repay all that her father had done for him. +Michael the youth was beginning to understand all that that meant. +</p> + +<p> +Those other friends of his, Buck, Jimmie, Bobs, and the rest, were still +enshrined in his faithful heart, though their memory had grown dimmer with the +full passing years. Faithfully every month the boy had sent Buck two dollars +from his pocket money, his heart swelling with pleasure that he was helping +those he loved, but only twice had any word come back from that far city where +he had left them. In answer to the letter which the doctor had translated to +them, there had come a brief laborious epistle, terse and to the point, written +with a stub of pencil on the corner of a piece of wrapping paper, and addressed +by a kindly clerk at the post office where Buck bought the stamped envelope. It +was the same clerk who usually paid to the urchin his monthly money order, so +he knew the address. For the inditing of the letter Buck went to night school +two whole weeks before he could master enough letters and words to finish it to +his satisfaction, It read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Deer Mik WE WunT +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“Buck.” +</p> + +<p> +The significant words filled the boy’s heart with pride over his friend +whenever he thought of it, even after some time had passed. He had faith in +Buck. Somehow in his mind it seemed that Buck was growing and keeping pace with +him, and he never dreamed that if Buck should see him now he would not +recognize him. +</p> + +<p> +When Mikky had been in Florida several years another letter had come from Buck +addressed in the same way, and little better written than the other. Night +school had proved too strenuous for Buck; besides, he felt he knew enough for +all practical purposes and it was not likely he would need to write many +letters. This, however, was an occasion that called for one. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Dear Mikky Jany is DEAD sHe sayd tell yo hur LUV beeryd hur in owr kote +we giv hur ther wuz a angle wit pink wins on top uv the wite hurs an a wite +hors we got a lot uv flowers by yur money so yo needn sen no mor money kuz we +ken got long now til yo cum BUCK.” +</p> + +<p> +After that, though Michael had written as usual every month for some time no +reply had come, and the money orders had been returned to him as not called +for. Buck in his simplicity evidently took it for granted that Mikky would not +send the money and so came no more to the office, at least that was the +solution Michael put upon it, and deep down in his heart he registered a vow to +go and hunt up Buck the minute he was through at college, and free to go back +to New York and help his friends. Meantime, though the years had dimmed those +memories of his old life, and the days went rapidly forward in study, he kept +always in view his great intention of one day going back to better his native +community. +</p> + +<p> +But the coming of Mr. Endicott was a great event to the boy. He could scarcely +sleep the night before the expected arrival. +</p> + +<p> +It was just before the evening meal that the through train from New York +reached the station. Michael had been given the privilege of going down to meet +his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +Tall and straight and handsome he stood upon the platform as the train rushed +into the town, his cheeks glowing from excitement, his eyes bright with +anticipation, his cap in his hand, and the last rays of the setting sun glowing +in his golden hair, giving a touch like a halo round his head. When Endicott +saw him he exclaimed mentally over his strength and manly beauty, and more than +one weary tourist leaned from the open car window and gazed, for there was ever +something strange and strong and compelling about Michael that reminded one of +the beauty of an angel. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap05"></a>Chapter V</h3> + +<p> +Michael met Mr. Endicott unembarrassed. His early life in New York had given +him a self-poise that nothing seemed to disturb; but when the father turned to +introduce his young daughter, the boy caught his breath and gazed at her with +deepening color, and intense delight. +</p> + +<p> +She was here then, his Starr! She had come to see him, and she looked just as +he would have her look. He had not realized before that she would be grown up, +but of course she would, and the change in her was not so great as to shock his +memory. The clear white of her skin with its fresh coloring was the same. New +York life had not made it sallow. The roses were in her cheeks as much as when +she was a little child. Her eyes were the same, dark and merry and looked at +him straightly, unabashed, with the ease of a girl trained by a society mother. +The dark curls were there, only longer, hanging to the slender waist and +crowned with a fine wide Panama hat. She gave him a little gloved hand and +said: “I’m afraid I don’t remember you very well, but daddy +has been telling me about you and I’m very glad to see you.” +</p> + +<p> +She was only a little over twelve, but she spoke with ease and simplicity, and +for the first time in his life Michael felt conscious of himself. She was so +perfect, so lovely, so finished in every expression and movement. She looked at +him intelligently, politely curious, and no longer with the baby eyes that +wondered at nothing. He himself could not help wondering what she must think of +him, and for a few minutes he grew shy before her. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott was surprised and pleased at the appearance of the boy. The +passing of the years had easily erased the tender feelings that Mikky the +little street urchin had stirred in his heart. This visit to the school and +college was not so much on account of the boy, to whom he had come to feel he +had discharged his full duty, but because of the repeated invitations on the +part of Professor Harkness and the president. It went not against him to see +the institution to which he had from time to time contributed, in addition to +his liberal allowance for the education of the boy. It was perfectly convenient +for him to stop, being on the regular route he had laid out for his southern +trip. His wife he had left at Palm Beach with her fashionable friends; and with +Starr as his companion, the father was going through the orange belt on a tour +of investigation with a view to investments. It suited him perfectly to stop +off and receive the thanks of the college, therefore he stopped. Not that he +was a heartless man, but there were so many things in his world to make him +forget, and a little pleasant adulation is grateful to the most of us. +</p> + +<p> +But when Michael in all his striking beauty stood before him with the deference +of a more than son, his heart suddenly gave a great leap back to the day when +he had first looked down upon the little white face on the pillow; when the +blue eyes had opened and Mikky had smiled. Michael smiled now, and Endicott +became aware at once of the subtle fascination of that smile. And now the +thought presented itself. “What if this were my son! how proud I should +be of him!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was indeed good to look upon even to the eyes of the city critic. +Endicott had taken care to leave orders with his tailor for a full outfit to be +sent to the boy, Spring and Fall, of suitable plain clothing for a school boy, +little realizing how unnecessary it would have been to have dressed him so +well. The tailor, nothing loth, had taken the measurements which were sent to +him from year to year in answer to the letter of the firm, and had kept Michael +looking as well as any rich man’s son need desire to look. Not that the +boy knew nor realized. The clothes came to him, like his board and tuition, and +he took them well pleased and wrote his best letter of thanks each year as +Professor Harkness suggested; but he had no idea that a part at least of his +power of leadership with all the boys of the school was due to his plain though +stylishly cut garments. This fact would not have counted for anything with boys +who had been living in Florida for years, for any plain decent clothes were +thought fit, no matter how they were cut; but the patronage of the school was +at least one-half made up of rich men’s sons who were sent South for a +few years to a milder climate for their health. These as a rule, when they +came, had exaggerated ideas of the importance of clothes and prevailing modes. +</p> + +<p> +And so it was that Michael did not look like a dowdy country boy to his +benefactor, but on the contrary presented a remarkable contrast with many of +the boys with whom Endicott was acquainted at home. There was something about +Michael even when he was a small lad that commanded marked attention from all +who saw him. This attention Endicott and his daughter gave now as they walked +beside him in the glow of the sunset, and listened as he pointed out the +various spots of interest in the little college town. +</p> + +<p> +The institution boasted of no carriage, and the single horse-car that travelled +to the station belonged to the hotel and its guests. However, the walk was not +long, and gave the travellers an opportunity to breathe the clear air and feel +the stillness of the evening which was only emphasized by each separate sound +now and again. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, as she walked on the inside of the board sidewalk, and looked down at +the small pink and white and crimson pea blossoms growing broad-cast, and then +up at the tallness of the great pines, felt a kind of awe stealing upon her. +The one day she had spent at Palm Beach had been so filled with hotels and +people and automobiles that she had had no opportunity to realize the tropical +nature of the land. But here in this quiet spot, where the tiny station, the +post office, the grocery, and a few scattered dwellings with the lights of the +great tourists’ hotel gleaming in the distance, seemed all there was of +human habitation; and where the sky was wide even to bewilderment; she seemed +suddenly to realize the difference from New York. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had recovered his poise as soon as she no longer faced him, though he +was profoundly conscious of her presence there on the other side of her father. +But he talked easily and well. Yes, there was the hotel. It held five hundred +guests and was pretty well filled at this season of the year. There were some +distinguished people stopping there. The railroad president’s private car +was on the track for a few hours last week. That car over on the siding +belonged to a great steel magnate. The other one had brought the wife of a +great inventor. Off there at the right toward the sunset were the school and +college buildings. No, they could not be seen, until one passed the orange +grove. Too bad there was no conveyance, but the one little car turned off +toward the hotel at this corner, and the one beast of burden belonging to the +college, the college Mule—Minus, by name, because there were so many +things that he was not—was lame today and therefore could not be called +into requisition to bring the guests from the station. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott felt that he was drawing nearer to nature in this quiet walk than +he had been since he was a boy and visited his grandfather’s farm. It +rested and pleased him immensely, and he was charmed with the boy, his protégé. +His frank, simple conversation was free from all affectation on the one hand, +or from any hint of his low origin on the other hand. He felt already that he +had done a good thing in sending this boy down here to be educated. It was +worth the little money he had put into it. +</p> + +<p> +Starr watched Michael shyly from the shelter of her father’s side and +listened to him. He was not like the boys she met in New York. To begin with he +was remarkably fine looking, and added to that there was a mingled strength and +kindliness in his face, and above all about his smile, that made her feel +instinctively that he was nobler than most of them. She could not think of a +boy of her acquaintance who had a firm chin like that. This boy had something +about him that made the girl know instantly that he had a greater purpose in +life than his own pleasure. Not that she thought this all out analytically. +Starr had never learned to think. She only felt it as she looked at him, and +liked him at once. Moreover there was a sort of glamour over the boy in her +eyes, for her father had just been telling her the story of how he had saved +her life when she was barely two years old. She felt a prideful proprietorship +in him that made her shy in his presence. +</p> + +<p> +At the college president’s gate, just on the edge of the campus, the +president came out with apologies. He had been detained on a bit of business at +the county seat five miles away, and had driven home with a friend whose horse +was very slow. He was sorry not to have done their honored guests the courtesy +of being at the station on their arrival. Endicott walked with the president +after the greetings, and Michael dropped behind with Starr eagerly pointing out +to her the buildings. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the chapel, and beyond are the study and recitation rooms. +The next is the dining hall and servant’s quarters, and over on that side +of the campus is our dormitory. My window looks down on the lake. Every morning +I go before breakfast for a swim.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, aren’t you afraid of alligators?” exclaimed Starr +shivering prettily. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at her fragile loveliness with a softened appreciation, as +one looks at the tender precious things of life that need protection. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” he answered without laughing, as some of the other boys would +have done at her girlish fears, “they never bother us here, and besides, +I’m sort of acquainted with them. I’m not afraid of them. Nothing +will hurt you if you understand it well enough to look out for its +rights.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said Starr eyeing him in wonder. As if an alligator had +rights! What a strange, interesting boy. The idea of understanding an +alligator. She was about to ask how understanding the creature would keep one +from being eaten up when Michael pointed to the crimsoning West: +</p> + +<p> +“See!” he said eagerly as if he were pointing to a loved scene, +“the sun is almost down. Don’t you love to watch it? In a minute +more it will be gone and then it will be dark. Hear that evening bird? +‘Tit-wiloo! Tit-wiloo!’ He sings sometimes late at night.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr followed his eager words, and saw the sun slipping, slipping like a great +ruby disc behind the fringe of palm and pine and oak that bordered the little +lake below the campus; saw the wild bird dart from the thicket into the clear +amber of the sky above, utter its sweet weird call, and drop again into the +fine brown shadows of the living picture; watched, fascinated as the sun +slipped lower, lower, to the half now, and now less than half. +</p> + +<p> +Breathless they both stood and let the two men go on ahead, while they watched +the wonder of the day turn into night. The brilliant liquid crimson poured +itself away to other lands, till only a rim of wonderful glowing garnet +remained; then, like a living thing dying into another life, it too dropped +away, and all was night. +</p> + +<p> +“Why! How dark it is!” exclaimed Starr as she turned to her +companion again and found she could scarcely see his face. “Why! How +queer! Where is the twilight? Is anything the matter? I never saw it get dark +all at once like this!” She peered around into the strange velvet +darkness with troubled eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was all attention at once. +</p> + +<p> +“No, that’s all right,” he assured her. “That’s +the way we do here. Almost everybody from the north speaks about it at first. +They can’t understand it. Its the difference in the position of the sun, +nearer the equator, you know. I’ll show you all about it on the chart in +the astronomical room if you care to see. We haven’t any twilight here. I +should think twilight would be queer. You wouldn’t just know when night +began and day ended. I don’t remember about it when I lived in New York. +Look up there! That’s the evening star! It’s come out for you +tonight—to welcome another—Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +Oh, Michael, of unknown origin! Whence came that skill of delicate compliment, +that grace of courtesy, that you, plucked from the slime of the gutter, set +apart from all sweetening influences of loving contact with, womankind, should +be able so gallantly and respectfully to guide the young girl through the +darkness, touching her little elbow distantly, tactfully, reverently, exactly +as the college president helps his wife across the road on Sabbath to the +church? Is it only instinct, come down from some patrician ancestor of gallant +ways and kind, or have you watched and caught the knack from the noble scholar +who is your ideal of all that is manly? +</p> + +<p> +They walked silently through the warm darkness until they came within the +circle of light from the open door, and matron and teachers came out to welcome +the young stranger and bring her into the house. +</p> + +<p> +Michael lingered for a moment by the door, watching her as she went with the +matron, her sweet face wreathed in smiles, the matron’s thin arm around +her and a new and gentle look upon her severe countenance; watched until they +mounted the stairs out of sight; then he went out of doors. +</p> + +<p> +Taking off his cap he stood reverently looking up at the star, communing with +it perhaps about the human Starr that had come back to him out of the shadows +of the past. +</p> + +<p> +And she was a star. No one who saw her but acknowledged it. He marvelled as he +recalled the change wrought in the face of the matron and because of her +gentleness to the little girl forgave her all that she had not been to his +motherless boyhood. +</p> + +<p> +Starr came down to dinner in a few minutes radiant in a little rosy frock of +soft Eastern silk, girdled with a fringed scarf of the same and a knot of coral +velvet in her hair. From the string of pearls about her white neck to the +dainty point of her slipper she was exquisite and Michael watched her with open +admiration; whereat the long lashes drooped shyly over the girl’s rosy +cheeks and she was mightily pleased. +</p> + +<p> +She sat at her father’s side to the right of the president, with Michael +across the table. Well he bore the scrutiny of Endicott’s keen eyes which +through all the conversation kept searching the intelligent face of the boy. +</p> + +<p> +The evening passed like a dream, and Michael lay awake again that night +thinking of all the pleasure in anticipation for the next day. At last, at last +he had some people who in a way he might call his own. They had cared to come +and see him after all the years! His heart swelled with joy and gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +The guests attended chapel exercises with the students the next morning, and +Michael saw with pride the eyes of his companions turn toward the beautiful +young girl, and look at him almost with envy. The color mounted into his strong +young face, but he sat quietly in his place and no one would have guessed to +look at him, the tumult that was running riot in his veins. He felt it was the +very happiest day of his life. +</p> + +<p> +After chapel the guests were shown about the college buildings and campus. The +president and Endicott walked ahead, Michael behind with Starr, answering her +interested questions. +</p> + +<p> +They had been through all the classrooms, the gymnasium, the dining hall, +servants’ quarters and dormitories. They had visited the athletic ground, +the tennis courts, and gone down by the little lake, where Michael had taken +them out for a short row. Returning they were met by one of the professors who +suggested their going to hear some of the classes recite, and as Mr. Endicott +seemed interested they turned their steps toward the recitation hall. +</p> + +<p> +“I think,” said Starr as they walked slowly across the campus +together, “that you must be a very brave boy. To think of you saving my +life that way when you were just a little fellow!” +</p> + +<p> +She looked up, her pretty face full of childish feeling. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down silently and smiled. He was wondering if any eyes were ever +as beautiful as those before him. He had never had even a little girl look at +him like that. The president’s daughter was fat and a romp. She never +took time to look at the boys. The few other girls he knew, daughters of the +professors, were quiet and studious. They paid little attention to the boys. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to thank you for what you did,” went on Starr, “only +I can’t think of any words great enough to tell you how I feel about it. +I wish there was something I could do to show you how I thank you?” +</p> + +<p> +She lifted her sweet eyes again to his. They were entering the large Hall of +the college now. +</p> + +<p> +“This way,” said Michael guiding her toward the chapel door which +had just swung to behind the two men. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t there something you would like that I could do for +you?” persisted Starr earnestly, following him into the empty chapel +where Mr. Endicott and the president stood looking at a tablet on the wall by +the further door. +</p> + +<p> +“Your father has done everything for me,” said Michael sunnily, +with a characteristic sweep of his hand that seemed to include himself, his +garments and his mental outfit. He turned upon her his blazing smile that spoke +more eloquently than words could have done. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, but that is papa,” said Starr half impatiently, softly +stamping her daintily shod foot. “He did that because of what you did for +<i>him</i> in saving my life. I should like to do something to thank you for +what you did for <i>me</i>. I’m worth something to myself you know. +Isn’t there something I could do for you.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood still, looking up into his face anxiously, her vivid childish beauty +seeming to catch all the brightness of the place and focus it upon him. The two +men had passed out of the further door and on to the recitation rooms. The girl +and boy were alone for the moment. +</p> + +<p> +“You have done something for me, you did a great deal,” he said, +his voice almost husky with boyish tenderness. “I think it was the +greatest thing that anybody ever did for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did something for you! When? What?” questioned Starr curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said, “you did a great thing for me. Maybe you +don’t remember it, but I do. It was when I was getting well from the shot +there at your house, and your nurse used to bring you up to play with me every +day; and always before you went away, you used to kiss me. I’ve never +forgotten that.” +</p> + +<p> +He said it quite simply as if it were a common thing for a boy to say to a +girl. His voice was low as though the depths of his soul were stirred. +</p> + +<p> +A flood of pretty color came into Starr’s cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she said quite embarrassed at the turn of the conversation, +“but that was when I was a baby. I couldn’t do that now. Girls +don’t kiss boys you know. It wouldn’t be considered proper.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” said Michael, his own color heightening now, “I +didn’t mean that. I wanted you to know how much you had done for me +already. You don’t know what it is never to have been kissed by your +mother, or any living soul. Nobody ever kissed me in all my life that I know of +but you.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked down at the little girl with such a grave, sweet expression, his eyes +so expressive of the long lonely years without woman’s love, that child +though she was Starr seemed to understand, and her whole young soul went forth +in pity. Tears sprang to her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” she said, “That is dreadful! Oh!—I don’t +care if it isn’t proper—” +</p> + +<p> +And before he knew what she was about to do the little girl tilted to her +tiptoes, put up her dainty hands, caught him about the neck and pressed a warm +eager kiss on his lips. Then she sprang away frightened, sped across the room, +and through the opposite door. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still in a bewilderment of joy for the instant. The compelling of +her little hands, the pressure of her fresh lips still lingered with him. A +flood tide of glory swept over his whole being. There were tears in his eyes, +but he did not know it. He stood with bowed head as though in a holy place. +Nothing so sacred, so beautiful, had ever come into his life. Her baby kisses +had been half unconscious. This kiss was given of her own free will, because +she wanted to do something for him. He did not attempt to understand the +wonderful joy that surged through his heart and pulsed in every fibre of his +being. His lonely, unloved life was enough to account for it, and he was only a +boy with a brief knowledge of life; but he knew enough to enshrine that kiss in +his heart of hearts as a holy thing, not even to be thought about carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +When he roused himself to follow her she had disappeared. Her father and the +president were listening to a recitation, but she was nowhere to be seen. She +had gone to her own room. Michael went down by himself in a thicket by the +lake. +</p> + +<p> +She met him shyly at dinner, with averted gaze and a glow on her cheeks, as if +half afraid of what she had done, but he reassured her with his eyes. His +glance seemed to promise he would never take advantage of what she had done. +His face wore an exalted look, as if he had been lifted above earth, and Starr, +looking at him wonderingly, was glad she had followed her impulse. +</p> + +<p> +They took a horseback ride to the college grove that afternoon, Mr. Endicott, +one of the professors, Starr and Michael. The president had borrowed the horses +from some friends. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat like a king upon his horse. He had ridden the college mule bareback +every summer, and riding seemed to be as natural to him as any other sport. +Starr had been to a New York riding school, and was accustomed to taking her +morning exercise with her father in the Park, or accompanied by a footman; but +she sat her Florida pony as happily as though he had been a shiny, well-groomed +steed of priceless value. Somehow it seemed to her an unusually delightful +experience to ride with this nice boy through the beautiful shaded road of +arching live-oaks richly draped with old gray moss. Michael stopped by the +roadside, where the shade was dense, dismounted and plunged into the thicket, +returning in a moment with two or three beautiful orchids and some long vines +of the wonderful yellow jessamine whose exquisite perfume filled all the air +about. He wreathed the jessamine about the pony’s neck, and Starr twined +it about her hat and wore the orchids in her belt. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had never seen an orange grove before and took great delight in the trees +heavily loaded with fruit, green and yellow and set about by blossoms. She +tucked a spray of blossoms in her dark hair under the edge of her hat, and +Michael looked at her and smiled in admiration. Mr. Endicott, glancing toward +his daughter, caught the look, and was reminded of the time when he had found +the two children in his own drawing room being made a show for his wife’s +guests, and sighed half in pleasure, half in foreboding. What a beautiful pair +they were to be sure, and what had the future in store for his little girl? +</p> + +<p> +On the way back they skirted another lake and Michael dismounted again to bring +an armful of great white magnolia blossoms, and dainty bay buds to the +wondering Starr; and then they rode slowly on through the wooded, road, the boy +telling tales of adventures here and there; pointing out a blue jay or calling +attention to the mocking bird’s song. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you could be here next week,” said the boy wistfully. +“It will be full moon then. There is no time to ride through this place +like a moonlight evening. It seems like fairyland then. The moonbeams make +fairy ladders of the jessamine vines.” +</p> + +<p> +“It must be beautiful,” said Starr dreamily. Then they rode for a +few minutes in silence. They were coming to the end of the overarched avenue. +Ahead of them the sunlight shone clearly like the opening of a great tunnel +framed in living green. Suddenly Starr looked up gravely: +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to kiss you good-bye tonight when, we go away,” +she said softly; and touching her pony lightly with the whip rode out into the +bright road; the boy, his heart leaping with joy, not far behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Before supper Mr. Endicott had a talk with Michael that went further toward +making the fatherless boy feel that he had someone belonging to him than +anything that had happened yet. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you have done enough for me, sir,” said Michael +respectfully opening the conversation as Endicott came out to the porch where +the boy was waiting for him. “I think I ought to begin to earn my own +living. I’m old enough now—” and he held his head up proudly. +“It’s been very good of you all these years—I never can repay +you. I hope you will let me pay the money back that you have spent on me, some +day when, I can earn enough—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had been thinking this speech out ever since the president had told him +of Endicott’s expected visit, but somehow it did not sound as well to him +when he said it as he had thought it would. It seemed the only right thing to +do when he planned it, but in spite of him as he looked into Mr. +Endicott’s kind, keen eyes, his own fell in troubled silence. Had his +words sounded ungrateful? Had he seen a hurt look in the man’s eyes? +</p> + +<p> +“Son,” said Endicott after a pause, and the word stirred the +boy’s heart strangely, “son, I owe you a debt you never can repay. +You gave me back my little girl, flinging your own life into the chance as +freely as if you had another on hand for use any minute. I take it that I have +at least a father’s right in you at any rate, and I mean to exercise it +until you are twenty-one. You must finish a college course first. When will +that be? Three years? They tell me you are doing well. The doctor wants to keep +you here to teach after you have graduated, but I had thought perhaps you would +like to come up to New York and have your chance. I’ll give you a year or +two in business, whatever seems to be your bent when you are through, and then +we’ll see. Which would you rather do? Or, perhaps you’d prefer to +let your decision rest until the time comes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’m bound to go back to New York, sir,” said Michael +lifting his head with that peculiar motion all his own, so like a challenge. +“You know, sir, you said I was to be educated so that I might help my +friends. I have learned of course that you meant it in a broader sense than +just those few boys, for one can help people anywhere; but still I feel as if +it wouldn’t be right for me not to go back. I’m sure they’ll +expect me.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott shrugged his shoulders half admiringly. +</p> + +<p> +“Loyal to your old friends still? Well, that’s commendable, but +still I fancy you’ll scarcely find them congenial now. I wouldn’t +let them hang too closely about you. They might become a nuisance. You have +your way to make in the world, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked at his benefactor with troubled brows. Somehow the tone of the +man disturbed him. +</p> + +<p> +“I promised,” he said simply. Because there had bean so little in +his affections that promise had been cherished through the years, and meant +much to Michael. It stood for Principle and Loyalty in general. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, well, keep your promise, of course,” said the man of the world +easily. “I fancy you will find the discharge of it a mere form.” +</p> + +<p> +A fellow student came across the campus. +</p> + +<p> +“Endicott,” he called, “have you seen Hallowell go toward the +village within a few minutes?” +</p> + +<p> +“He just want, out the gate,” responded Michael pleasantly. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott looked up surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that the name by which you are known?” +</p> + +<p> +“Endicott? Yes, sir, Michael Endicott. Was it not by your wish? I +supposed they had asked you. I had no other name that I knew.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I didn’t know,” pondered Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +There was silence for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Would you,—shall I—do you dislike my having it?” asked +the boy delicately sensitive at once. +</p> + +<p> +But the man looked up with something like tenderness in his smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Keep it, son. I like it. I wish I had a boy like you. It is an old name +and a proud one. Be worthy of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I will try, sir,” said Michael, as if he were registering a vow. +</p> + +<p> +There was an early supper for the guests and then Michael walked through +another sunset to the station with Starr. He carried a small box carefully +prepared in which reposed a tiny green and blue lizard for a parting gift. She +had watched the lizards scuttling away under the board sidewalks at their +approach, or coming suddenly to utter stillness, changing their brilliant +colors to gray like the fence boards that they might not be observed. She was +wonderfully interested in them, and was charmed with her gift. The particular +lizard in question was one that Michael had trained to eat crumbs from his +hand, and was quite tame. +</p> + +<p> +The two said little as they walked along together. Each was feeling what a +happy time they had spent in one another’s company. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall write and tell you how the lizard is,” said Starr +laughing, “and you will tell me all about the funny and interesting +things you are doing, won’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“If—I may,” said Michael wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +At the station a New York acquaintance of the Endicotts’ invited them to +ride in his private car which was on the side track waiting for the train to +pick them up. Michael helped Starr up the steps, and carried the lizard into +the car as well as the great sheaf of flowers she insisted on taking with her. +</p> + +<p> +There were some ladies inside who welcomed Starr effusively; and Michael, +suddenly abashed, laid down the flowers, lifted his cap and withdrew. A sudden +blank had come upon him. Starr was absorbed by people from another world than +his. He would have no opportunity to say good-bye—and she had +promised—But then of course he ought not to expect her to do that. She +had been very kind to him— +</p> + +<p> +He was going down the steps now. An instant more and he would be on the cinders +of the track. +</p> + +<p> +A sudden rush, a soft cry, caused him to pause on the second step of the +vestibuled car. It was Starr, standing just above him, and her eyes were +shining like her namesake the evening star. +</p> + +<p> +“You were going without good-bye,” she reproved, and her cheeks +were rosy red, but she stood her ground courageously. Placing a soft hand +gently on either cheek as he stood below her, his face almost on a level with +hers, she tilted his head toward her and touched his lips with her own red +ones, delicately as if a rose had swept them. +</p> + +<p> +Simultaneously came the sound of the distant train. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-bye, you nice, splendid boy!” breathed Starr, and waving her +hand darted inside the car. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott, out on the platform, still talking to the president, heard the +oncoming train and looked around for Michael. He saw him coming from the car +with his exalted look upon his face, his cap off, and the golden beams of the +sun again sending their halo like a nimbus over his hair. +</p> + +<p> +Catching his hand heartily, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Son, I’m pleased with you. Keep it up, and come to me when you are +ready. I’ll give you a start.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael gripped his hand and blundered out some words of thanks. Then the train +was upon them, and Endicott had to go. +</p> + +<p> +The two younger ladies in the car, meantime, were plying Starr with questions. +“Who is that perfectly magnificent young man. Starr Endicott? Why +didn’t you introduce him to us? I declare I never saw such a beautiful +face on any human being before.” +</p> + +<p> +A moment more and the private car was fastened to the train, and Starr leaning +from the window waved her tiny handkerchief until the train had thundered away +among the pines, and there was nothing left but the echo of its sound. The sun +was going down but it mattered not. There was sunshine in the boy’s +heart. She was gone, his little Starr, but she had left the memory of her soft +kiss and her bright eyes; and some day, some day, when he was done with +college, he would see her again. Meantime he was content. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap06"></a>Chapter VI</h3> + +<p> +The joy of loving kindness in his life, and a sense that somebody cared, seemed +to have the effect of stimulating Michael’s mind to greater energies. He +studied with all his powers. Whatever he did he did with his might, even his +play. +</p> + +<p> +The last year of his stay in Florida, a Department of Scientific Farming was +opened on a small scale. Michael presented himself as a student. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you want of farming, Endicott?” asked the president, +happening to pass through the room on the first day of the teacher’s +meeting with his students. “You can’t use farming in New +York.” +</p> + +<p> +There was perhaps in the kindly old president’s mind a hope that the boy +would linger with them, for he had become attached to him in a silent, +undemonstrative sort of way. +</p> + +<p> +“I might need it sometime,” answered Michael, “and anyway +I’d like to understand it. You said the other day that no knowledge was +ever wasted. I’d like to know enough at least to tell somebody +else.” +</p> + +<p> +The president smiled, wondered, and passed on. Michael continued in the class, +supplementing the study by a careful reading of all the Agricultural magazines, +and Government literature on the subject that came in his way. Agriculture had +had a strange fascination for him ever since a noted speaker from the North had +come that way and in an address to the students told them that the new field +for growth today lay in getting back to nature and cultivating the earth. It +was characteristic of Michael that he desired to know if that statement was +true, and if so, why. Therefore he studied. +</p> + +<p> +The three years flew by as if by magic. Michael won honors not a few, and the +day came when he had completed his course, and as valedictorian of his class, +went up to the old chapel for his last commencement in the college. +</p> + +<p> +He sat on the platform looking down on the kindly, uncritical audience that had +assembled for the exercises, and saw not a single face that had come for his +sake alone. Many were there who were interested in him because they had known +him through the years, and because he bore the reputation of being the honor +man of his class and the finest athlete in school. But that was not like having +some one of his very own who cared whether he did well or not. He found himself +wishing that even Buck might have been there; Buck, the nearest to a brother he +had ever had. Would Buck have cared that he had won highest rank? Yes, he felt +that Buck would have been proud of him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had sent out three invitations to commencement, one to Mr. Endicott, +one to Starr, and one addressed to Buck, with the inner envelope bearing the +words “For Buck and ‘the kids,’” but no response had +come to any of them. He had received back the one addressed to Buck with +“Not Called For” in big pink letters stamped across the corner. It +had reached him that morning, just before he came on the platform. He wished it +had not come till night; it gave him a lonely, almost forsaken feeling. He was +“educated” now, at least enough to know what he did not know; and +there was no one to care. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael sat down after his oration amid a storm of hearty applause, +prolonged by his comrades into something like an ovation, some one handed him a +letter and a package. There had been a mistake made at the post office in +sorting the mail and these had not been put into the college box. One of the +professors going down later found them and brought them up. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was from Mr. Endicott containing a businesslike line of +congratulations, a hope that the recipient would come to New York if he still +felt of that mind, and a check for a hundred dollars. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked at the check awesomely, re-read the letter carefully and put +both in his pocket. The package was tiny and addressed in Starr’s +handwriting. Michael saved that till he should go to his room. He did not want +to open it before any curious eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s letters had been few and far between, girlish little epistles; +and the last year they had ceased altogether. Starr was busy with life; +finishing-school and dancing-school and music-lessons and good times. Michael +was a dim and pleasant vision to her. +</p> + +<p> +The package contained a scarf-pin of exquisite workmanship. Starr had pleased +herself by picking out the very prettiest thing she could find. She had her +father’s permission to spend as much as she liked on it. It was in the +form of an orchid, with a tiny diamond like a drop of dew on one petal. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked on it with wonder, the first suggestion of personal adornment +that had ever come to him. He saw the reminder of their day together in the +form of the orchid; studied the beautiful name, “Starr Delevan +Endicott,” engraved upon the card; then put them carefully back into +their box and locked it into his bureau drawer. He would wear it the first time +he went to see Starr. He was very happy that day. +</p> + +<p> +The week after college closed Michael drove the college mule to the county +seat, ten miles away, and bought a small trunk. It was not much of a trunk but +it was the best the town afforded. In this he packed all his worldly +possessions, bade good-bye to the president, and such of the professors as had +not already gone North for their vacations, took a long tramp to all his old +haunts, and boarded the midnight train for New York. +</p> + +<p> +The boy had a feeling of independence which kept him from letting his +benefactor know of his intended arrival. He did not wish to make him any +unnecessary trouble, and though he had now been away from New York for fourteen +years, he felt a perfect assurance that he could find his way about. There are +some things that one may learn even at seven, that will never be forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael landed in New York he looked about him with vague bewilderment for +a moment. Then he started out with assurance to find a new spot for himself in +the world. +</p> + +<p> +Suitcase he had not, nor any baggage but his trunk to hinder him. He had +discovered that the trunk could remain in the station for a day without charge. +The handsome raincoat and umbrella which had been a part of the outfit the +tailor had sent him that spring were all his encumbrances, so he picked his way +unhampered across Liberty Street, eyeing his former enemies, the policemen, and +every little urchin or newsboy with interest. Of course Buck and the rest would +have grown up and changed some; they wouldn’t likely be selling papers +now—but—these were boys such as he had been. He bought a paper off +a little ragged fellow with a pinched face, and a strange sensation came over +him. When he left this city he was the newsboy, and now he had money enough to +buy a paper—and the education to read it! What a difference! Not that he +wanted the paper at present, though it might prove interesting later, but he +wanted the experience of buying it. It marked the era of change in his life and +made the contrast tremendous. Immediately his real purpose in having an +education, the uplift of his fellow-beings, which had been most vague during +the years, took form and leapt into vivid interest, as he watched the little +skinny legs of the newsboy nimbly scrambling across the muddy street under the +feet of horses, and between automobiles, in imminent danger of his life. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had thought it all out, just what he would do, and he proceeded to +carry out his purpose. He had no idea what a fine picture of well-groomed youth +and manly beauty he presented as he marched down the street. He walked like a +king, and New York abashed him no more now that he had come back than it did +before he went away. There are some spirits born that way. He walked like a +“gentleman, unafraid.” +</p> + +<p> +He had decided not to go to Mr. Endicott until he had found lodgings somewhere. +An innate delicacy had brought him to this decision. He would not put one +voluntary burden upon his kind benefactor. Born and bred in the slums, whence +came this fineness of feeling? Who shall say? +</p> + +<p> +Michael threaded his way through the maze of traffic, instinct and vague +stirrings of memory guiding him to a quiet shabby street where he found a dingy +little room for a small price. The dangers that might have beset a strange +young man in the great city were materially lessened for him on account of his +wide reading. He had read up New York always wherever he found an article or +book or story that touched upon it; and without realizing it he was well versed +in details. He had even pondered for hours over a map of New York that he found +in the back of an old magazine, comparing it with his faint memories, until he +knew the location of things with relation to one another pretty well. A +stranger less versed might have gotten into most undesirable quarters. +</p> + +<p> +The boy looked around his new home with a strange sinking of heart, after he +had been out to get something to eat, and arranged for his trunk to be sent to +his room. It was very tiny and not over clean. The wall paper was a dingy +flowered affair quite ancient in design, and having to all appearances far +outlived a useful life. The one window looked out to brick walls, chimneys and +roofs. The noise of the city clattered in; the smells and the heat made it +almost stifling to the boy who had lived for thirteen years in the sunshine of +the South, and the freedom of the open. +</p> + +<p> +The narrow bed looked uninviting, the bureau-washstand was of the cheapest, and +the reflection Michael saw in its warped mirror would have made any boy with a +particle of vanity actually suffer. Michael, however, was not vain. He thought +little about himself, but this room was depressing. The floor was covered with +a nondescript carpet faded and soiled beyond redemption, and when his trunk was +placed between the bureau and the bed there would be scarcely room for the one +wooden chair. It was not a hopeful outlook. The boy took off his coat and sat +down on the bed to whistle. +</p> + +<p> +Life, grim, appalling, spectral-like, uprose before his mental vision, and he +spent a bad quarter of an hour trying to adjust himself to his surroundings; +his previous sunny philosophy having a tough tussle with the sudden realities +of things as they were. Then his trunk arrived. +</p> + +<p> +It was like Michael to unpack it at once and put all his best philosophical +resolves into practice. +</p> + +<p> +As he opened the trunk a whiff of the South, exhaled. He caught his breath with +a sudden keen, homesickness. He realized that his school days were over, and +all the sweetness and joy of that companionful life passed. He had often felt +alone in those days. He wondered at it now. He had never in all his experience +known such aloneness as now in this great strange city. +</p> + +<p> +The last thing he had put into his trunk had been a branch of mammoth pine +needles. The breath of the tree brought back all that meant home to him. He +caught it up and buried his face in the plumy tassels. +</p> + +<p> +The tray of the trunk was filled with flags, pennants, photographs, and college +paraphernalia. Eagerly he pulled them all out and spread them over the bumpy +little bed. Then he grabbed for his hat and rushed out. In a few minutes he +returned with a paper of tacks, another of pins, and a small tack hammer. In an +hour’s time he had changed the atmosphere of the whole place. Not an +available inch of bare wall remained with, its ugly, dirty wallpaper. College +colors, pennants and flags were grouped about pictures, and over the unwashed +window was draped Florida moss. Here and there, apparently fluttering on the +moss or about the room, were fastened beautiful specimens of semi-tropical +moths and butterflies in the gaudiest of colors. A small stuffed alligator +reposed above the window, gazing apathetically down, upon the scene. A larger +alligator skin was tacked on one wall. One or two queer bird’s nests +fastened to small branches hung quite naturally here and there. +</p> + +<p> +Michael threw down the hammer and sat down to survey his work, drawing a breath +of relief. He felt more at home now with the photographs of his fellow students +smiling down upon him. Opposite was the base-ball team, frowning and sturdy; to +the right the Glee Club with himself as their leader; to the left a group of +his classmates, with his special chum in the midst. As he gazed at that kindly +face in the middle he could almost hear the friendly voice calling to him: +“Come on, Angel! You’re sure to win out!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael felt decidedly better, and fell to hanging up his clothes and arranging +his effects on clean papers in the rheumatic bureau drawers. These were cramped +quarters but would do for the present until he was sure of earning some money, +for he would not spend his little savings more than he could help now and he +would not longer be dependent upon the benefaction of Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +When his box of books arrived he would ask permission to put some shelves over +the window. Then he would feel quite cosy and at home. +</p> + +<p> +So he cheered himself as he went about getting into his best garments, for he +intended to arrive at Madison Avenue about the time that his benefactor reached +home for the evening. +</p> + +<p> +Michael knew little of New York ways, and less of the habits of society; the +few novels that had happened in his way being his only instructors on the +subject. He was going entirely on his dim memories of the habits of the +Endicott home during his brief stay there. As it happened Mr. Endicott was at +home when Michael arrived and the family were dining alone. +</p> + +<p> +The boy was seated in the reception room gazing about him with the ease of his +habitual unconsciousness of self, when Endicott came down bringing Starr with +him. A second time the man of the world was deeply impressed with the fine +presence of this boy from obscurity. He did not look out of place even in a New +York drawing room. It was incredible; though of course a large part of it was +due to his city-made clothing. Still, that would not by any means account for +case of manner, graceful courtesy, and an instinct for saying the right thing +at the right time. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott invited the lad to dine with them and Starr eagerly seconded the +invitation. Michael accepted as eagerly, and a few moments later found himself +seated at the elegantly appointed table by the side of a beautiful and haughty +woman who stared at him coldly, almost insultingly, and made not one remark to +him throughout the whole meal. The boy looked at her half wonderingly. It +almost seemed as if she intended to resent his presence, yet of course that +could not be. His idea of this whole family was the highest. No one belonging +to Starr could of course be aught but lovely of spirit. +</p> + +<p> +Starr herself seemed to feel the disapproval of her mother, and shrink into +herself, saying very little, but smiling shyly at Michael now and then when her +mother was not noticing her. +</p> + +<p> +Starr was sixteen now, slender and lovely as she had given promise of being. +Michael watched her satisfied. At last he turned to the mother sitting in her +cold grandeur, and with the utmost earnestness and deference in his voice said, +his glance still half toward Starr: +</p> + +<p> +“She is like you, and yet not!” +</p> + +<p> +He said it gravely, as if it were a discovery of the utmost importance to them +both, and he felt sure it was the key to her heart, this admission of his +admiration of the beautiful girl. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott froze him with her glance. +</p> + +<p> +From the roots of his hair down to the tips of his toes and back again he felt +it, that insulting resentment of his audacity in expressing any opinion about +her daughter; or in fact in having any opinion. For an instant his +self-possession deserted him, and his face flushed with mingled emotions. Then +he saw a look of distress on Starr’s face as she struggled to make reply +for her silent mother: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, mamma and I are often said to resemble one another strongly,” +and there was a tremble in Starr’s voice that roused all the manliness in +the boy. He flung off the oppression that was settling down upon him and +listened attentively to what Endicott was saying, responding gracefully, +intelligently, and trying to make himself think that it was his inexperience +with ladies that had caused him to say something inappropriate. Henceforth +during the evening he made no more personal remarks. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott took the boy to his den after dinner, and later Starr slipped in and +they talked a little about their beautiful day in Florida together. Starr asked +him if he still rode and would like to ride with her in the Park the next +morning when she took her exercise, and it was arranged in the presence of her +father and with his full consent that Michael should accompany her in place of +the groom who usually attended her rides. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott came in as they were making this arrangement, and immediately +called Starr sharply out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +After their withdrawal Endicott questioned the boy carefully about his college +course and his habits of living. He was pleased to hear that Michael had been +independent enough to secure lodgings before coming to his house. It showed a +spirit that was worth helping, though he told him that he should have come +straight to him. +</p> + +<p> +As Endicott was going off on a business trip for a week he told Michael to +enjoy himself looking around the city during his absence, and on his return +present himself at the office at an appointed hour when he would put him in the +way of something that would start him in life. +</p> + +<p> +Michael thanked him and went back to his hot little room on the fourth floor, +happy in spite of heat and dinginess and a certain homesick feeling. Was he not +to ride with Starr in the morning? He could hardly sleep for thinking of it, +and of all he had to say to her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap07"></a>Chapter VII</h3> + +<p> +When Michael presented himself at the appointed hour the next morning he was +shown into a small reception room by a maid, and there he waited for a full +half hour. At the end of that time he heard a discreet rustle of garments in +the distance, and a moment later, became aware of a cold stare from the +doorway. Mrs. Endicott in an elaborate morning frock was surveying him fixedly +through a jewelled lorgnette, her chin tilted contemptuously, and an expression +of supreme scorn upon her handsome features. Woman of the world that she was, +she must have noted the grace of his every movement as he rose with his +habitual courtesy to greet her. Yet for some reason this only seemed to +increase her dislike. +</p> + +<p> +There was no welcoming hand held out in response to his good morning, and no +answering smile displaced the severity of the woman’s expression as she +stood confronting the boy, slowly paralyzing him with her glance. Not a word +did she utter. She could convey her deepest meaning without words when she +chose. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael was a lad of great self-control, and keen logical mind. He saw no +reason for the woman’s attitude of rebuke, and concluded he must be +mistaken in it. Rallying his smile once more he asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Is Miss Starr ready to ride, or have I come too early?” +</p> + +<p> +Again the silence became impressive as the cold eyes looked him through, before +the thin lips opened. +</p> + +<p> +“My daughter is not ready to ride—with YOU, this morning or at any +other time!” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” said Michael now deeply +astonished, and utterly unable to fathom the woman’s strange manner. +“Have I misunderstood? I thought she asked me to ride with her this +morning. May I see her, please?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you may not see Miss Endicott!” said the cold voice. +“And I have come down to tell you that I consider your coming here at all +a great impertinence. Certainly my husband has fully discharged any obligations +for the slight service he is pleased to assume that you rendered a good many +years ago. I have always had my doubts as to whether you did not do more harm +than good at that time. Of course you were only a child and it was impossible +that you should have done any very heroic thing at that age. In all probability +if you had kept out of things the trouble never would have happened, and your +meddling simply gave you a wound and a soft bed for a while. In my opinion you +have had far more done for you than you ever deserved, and I want you to +understand that so far as my daughter is concerned the obligation is +discharged.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had stood immovable while the cruel woman uttered her harangue, his +eyes growing wide with wonder and dark with a kind of manly shame for her as +she went on. When she paused for a moment she saw his face was white and still +like a statue, but there was something in the depth of his eyes that held her +in check. +</p> + +<p> +With the utmost calm, and deference, although his voice rang with honest +indignation, Michael spoke: +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Endicott,” he said, his tone clear and +attention-demanding, “I have never felt that there was the slightest +obligation resting upon any of this family for the trifling matter that +occurred when, as you say, I was a child. I feel that the obligation is +entirely the other way, of course, but I cannot understand what you mean. How +is my coming here at Mr. Endicott’s invitation an impertinence?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked at him contemptuously as though it were scarcely worth the +trouble to answer him, yet there was something about him that demanded an +answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you are ignorant then,” she answered cuttingly, +“as you seem to be honest. I will explain. You are not fit company for my +daughter. It is strange that you do not see that for yourself! A child of the +slums, with nothing but shame and disgrace for an inheritance, and brought up a +pauper! How could you expect to associate on a level with a gentleman’s +daughter? If you have any respect for her whatever you should understand that +it is not for such as you to presume to call upon her and take her out riding. +It is commendable in you of course to have improved what opportunities have +been given you, but it is the height of ingratitude in a dependent to presume +upon kindness and take on the airs of an equal, and you might as well +understand first as last that you cannot do it. I simply will not have you +here. Do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood as if rooted to the floor, horror and dismay growing in his eyes; +and stupor trickling through his veins. For a minute he stood after she had +ceased speaking, as though the full meaning of her words had been slow to reach +his consciousness. Yet outwardly his face was calm, and only his eyes had +seemed to change and widen and suffer as she spoke. Finally his voice came to +him: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I did not know,” he said in a stricken voice. “As you +say, I am ignorant.” Then lifting his head with that fine motion of +challenge to the world that was characteristic of him whenever he had to face a +hard situation, his voice rang clear and undaunted: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon. I shall not offend this way again. It was +because I did not understand. I would not hurt your daughter in any way, for +she has been the only beautiful thing that ever came into my life. But I will +never trouble her again.” +</p> + +<p> +The bow with which he left her and marched past her into the hall and out of +the great door where once his boy life had been freely laid down for her child, +could have been no more gracefully or dramatically effected if he had been some +great actor. It was natural, it was full of dignity and reproach, and it left +the lady feeling smaller and meaner than she had ever felt in all of her +rose-colored, velvet-lined existence. Somehow all the contempt she had +purposely prepared for the crushing of the lad, he had suddenly flung from him +as a hated garment and walked from her presence, leaving it wrapped about +herself. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, really!” she gasped at last when she realized that he was +gone and her eloquence not half finished, “Well, really! What right had +he to go away like that without my permission. Impertinent to the end! One +would suppose he was a grand Duke. Such airs! I always told Delevan it was a +mistake to educate the masses. They simply don’t know their place and +will not keep it.” +</p> + +<p> +Nevertheless, the selfish woman was much shaken. Michael had made her feel +somehow as if she had insulted a saint or a supernal being. She could not +forget how the light had sifted through his wonderful hair and glinted through +the depths of his great eyes, as he spoke those last words, and she resented +the ease with which he had left her presence. It had been too much like the +going of a victor, and not like one crushed back into his natural place. She +was cross all day in consequence. +</p> + +<p> +Starr meanwhile was lingering upstairs waiting for Michael. She had been +purposely kept busy in a distant room at the back of the house by her mother, +and was not told of his coming. As an hour went by beyond the appointed time +she grew restless and disappointed; and then annoyed and almost angry that he +should have so easily forgotten her; but she did not tell her mother, and the +old Scotch nurse who would have been her confidante had been sent on an errand +to another part of the city. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, as the days went by, and Michael came no more to the house, the girl grew +to think he did not want to come, and her slight disappointment and +mortification were succeeded by a haughty resentment, for her mother’s +teaching had not been without some result in her character. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had gone into the door of the Endicott mansion a boy with a light heart +and a happy vision of the future. He came out from there an hour later, a man, +with a heavy burden on his heart, and a blank vision of the future. So much had +the woman wrought. +</p> + +<p> +As he walked from the house his bright head drooped, and his spirit was +troubled within him. He went as one in a terrible dream. His face had the look +of an angel newly turned out of paradise and for no fault of his own; an angel +who bowed to the Supreme mandate, but whose life was crushed within him. People +looked at him strangely, and wondered as they passed him. It was as if Sorrow +were embodied suddenly, and looking through eyes intended for Love. For the +first time Michael, beloved of all his companions for his royal unselfishness, +was thinking of himself. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even so there was no selfishness in his thought. It was only as if that +which had always given him life and the breath of gladness had suddenly been +withdrawn from him, and left him panting, gasping in a wide and unexpected +emptiness. +</p> + +<p> +Somehow he found his way to his room and locked the door. +</p> + +<p> +Then the great spirit gave way and he flung himself upon the bed in supreme +exhaustion. He seemed not to have another atom of strength left wherewith, to +move or think or even breathe consciously. All his physical powers had oozed +away and deserted him, now in this great crisis when life’s foundations +were shaken to their depths and nothing seemed to be any more. He could not +think it over or find a way out of the horror, he could only lie and suffer it, +fact by fact, as it came and menaced him, slowly, cruelly throughout that +length of day. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually it became distinct and separated itself into thoughts so that he +could follow it, as if it were the separate parts of some great dragon come to +twine its coils about him and claw and crush and strangle the soul of him. +</p> + +<p> +First, there was the fact like a great knife which seemed to have severed soul +from body, the fact that he might not see Starr, or have aught to do with her +any more. So deeply had this interdiction taken hold upon him that it seemed to +him in his agitation he might no longer even think of her. +</p> + +<p> +Next, following in stern and logical sequence, came the reason for this +severing of soul from all it knew and loved; the fact of his lowly birth. +Coming as it did, out of the blue of a trustful life that had never questioned +much about his origin but had sunnily taken life as a gift, and thought little +about self; with the bluntness and directness of an un-lovingkindness, it had +seemed to cut and back in every direction, all that was left of either soul or +body, so that there came no hope of ever catching things together again. +</p> + +<p> +That was the way it came over and over again as the boy without a friend in the +whole wide world to whom he could turn in his first great trouble, lay and took +it. +</p> + +<p> +Gradually out of the blackness he began to think a little; think back to his +own beginning. Who was he? What was he? For the first time in his life, though +he knew life more than most of the boys with whom he had associated, the +thought of shame in connection with his own birth came to him, and burrowed and +scorched its way into his soul. +</p> + +<p> +He might have thought of such a possibility before perhaps, had not his very +youngest years been hedged about by a beautiful fancy that sprang from the +brain of an old Irish woman in the slums, whose heart was wide as her ways were +devious, and who said one day when little Mikky had run her an errand, +“Shure, an’ then Mikky, yer an angel sthraight frum hiven an’ +no misthake. Yer no jest humans like the rist av us; ye must av dhropped doon +frum the skoy.” And from that it had gone forth that Mikky was the child +of the sky, and that was why no one knew who were his parents. +</p> + +<p> +The bit of a fancy had guarded the boy’s weird babyhood, and influenced +more than he knew his own thought of existence, until life grew too full to +think much on it. +</p> + +<p> +Out of the darkness and murk of the slums the soul of Mikky had climbed high, +and his ambitions reached up to the limitless blue above him. It had never +occurred to him once that there might be an embargo put upon his upward +movements. He had taken all others to be as free hearted and generous as +himself. Heir of all things, he had breathed the atmosphere of culture as +though it were his right. Now, he suddenly saw that he had no business +climbing. He had been seized just as he was about to mount a glorious height +from which he was sure other heights were visible, when a rude hand had brushed +him back and dropped him as though he had been some crawling reptile, down, +down, down, at the very bottom of things. And the worst of all was that he +might not climb back. He might look up, he might know the way up again, but the +honor in him—the only bit of the heights he had carried back to the foot +with him—forbade him to climb to the dizzy heights of glory, for they +belonged to others: those whom fortune favored, and on whose escutcheon there +was no taint of shame. +</p> + +<p> +And why should it be that some souls should be more favored than others? What +had he, for instance, to do with his birth? He would not have chosen shame, if +shame there was. Yet shame or not he was branded with it for life because his +origin was enveloped in mystery. The natural conclusion was that sin had had +its part. +</p> + +<p> +Then through the boy’s mind there tumbled a confusion of questions all +more or less unanswerable, in the midst of which he slept. +</p> + +<p> +He seemed to have wandered out into the open again with the pines he loved +above him, and underneath the springy needles with their slippery resinous +softness; and he lay looking up into the changeless blue that covered all the +heights, asking all the tumultuous questions that throbbed through his heart, +asking them of God. +</p> + +<p> +Silently the noises of the city slunk away and dropped into the ceaseless calm +of the southland he had left. The breeze fanned his cheek, the pines whispered, +and a rippling bird song touched his soul with peace. A quietness came down +upon his troubled spirit, and he was satisfied to take the burden that had been +laid him and to bear it greatly. The peace was upon him when he awoke, far into +the next morning. +</p> + +<p> +The hot June sun streamed into his stuffy room and fell aslant the bed. He was +sodden and heavy with the heat and the oppression of his garments. His head +ached, and he felt as nearly ill as he had ever felt in his life. The spectre +of the day before confronted him in all its torturing baldness, but he faced it +now and looked it squarely in the eyes. It was not conquered yet, not by any +means. The sharp pain of its newness was just as great, and the deep conviction +was still there that it was because of wrong that this burden was laid upon +him, but there was an adjustment of his soul to the inevitable that there had +not been at first. +</p> + +<p> +The boy lay still for a few minutes looking out upon a new life in which +everything had to be readjusted to the idea of himself and his new limitations. +Heretofore in his mind there had been no height that was not his for the +climbing. Now, the heights were his, but he would not climb because the heights +themselves might be marred by his presence. It was wrong, it was unfair, that +things should be so; but they were so, and as long as Sin and Wrong were in the +world they would be so. +</p> + +<p> +He must look upon life as he had looked upon every contest through his +education. There were always things to be borne, hard things, but that only +made the conquest greater. He must face this thing and win. +</p> + +<p> +And what had he lost that had been his before? Not the beautiful girl who had +been the idol of his heart all these years. She was still there, alive and +well, and more beautiful than ever. His devotion might yet stand between her +and harm if need arose. True, he had lost the hope of companionship with her, +but that had been the growth of a day. He had never had much of it before, nor +expected it when he came North. It would have been a glory and a joy beyond +expression, but one could live without those things and be true. There was some +reason for it all somewhere in the infinite he was sure. +</p> + +<p> +It was not like the ordinary boy to philosophize in this way, but Michael had +never been an ordinary boy. Ever his soul had been open to the greatness of the +universe and sunny toward the most trying surroundings. He had come out of the +hardest struggle his soul had yet met, but he had come out a man. There were +lines about his pleasant mouth that had not been there the day before, which +spoke of strength and self-control. There were new depths in his eyes as of one +who had looked down, and seen things unspeakable, having to number himself with +the lowly. +</p> + +<p> +A new thought came to him while he lay there trying to take in the change that +had come to him. The thought of his childhood companions, the little waifs like +himself who came from the offscourings of the earth. They had loved him he +knew. He recalled slowly, laboriously, little incidents from his early history. +They were dim and uncertain, many of them, but little kindnesses stood out. A +bad cut on his foot once and how Buck had bathed it and bound it up in dirty +rags, doing double duty with the newspapers for several days to save his friend +from stepping. There was a bitter cold night way back as far as he could +remember when he had had bad luck, and came among the others supperless and +almost freezing. Buck had shared a crust and found a warm boiler-room where +they crawled out of sight and slept. There were other incidents, still more +blurred in his memory, but enough to recall how loyal the whole little gang had +been to him. He saw once more their faces when they heard he was going away to +college; blanched with horror at the separation, lighting with pleasure when he +promised to return! +</p> + +<p> +The years, how they had changed and separated! Where were they, these who +really belonged to him; who were his rightful companions? What had the years +done to them? And he had a duty toward them unperformed. How was it that he had +been in the city all these hours and not even thought of going to look for +those loyal souls who had stood by him so faithfully when they were all mere +babies? He must go at once. He had lost his head over attempting to reach +things that were not for him, and this shock had come to set him straight. +</p> + +<p> +Gravely he rose at last, these thoughts surging through his brain. +</p> + +<p> +The heat, the stifling air of the room, his recent struggling and the +exhausting stupor made him reel dizzily as he got up, but his mettle was up now +and he set his lips and went about making himself neat. He longed for a dip in +the crystal waters of the little lake at college. The tiny wash-bowl of his +room proved a poor substitute with its tepid water and diminutive towel. +</p> + +<p> +He went out and breakfasted carefully as if it were a duty, and then, with his +map in his pocket, started out to find his old haunts. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap08"></a>Chapter VIII</h3> + +<p> +Thirteen years in New York had brought many changes. Some of the +well-remembered landmarks were gone and new buildings in their places. A +prosperous looking saloon quite palatial in its entrance marked the corner +where he used to sell papers. It used to be a corner grocery store. Saloons! +Always and everywhere there were saloons! Michael looked at them wonderingly. +He had quite forgotten them in his exile, for the college influence had barred +them out from its vicinity. +</p> + +<p> +The boy Mikky had been familiar enough with saloons, looking upon them as a +necessary evil, where drinking fathers spent the money that ought to have +bought their children food. He had been in and out of them commonly enough +selling his papers, warming his feet, and getting a crust now and then from an +uneaten bit on the lunch counter. Sometimes there had been glasses to drain, +but Mikky with his observing eyes had early decided that he would have none of +the stuff that sent men home to curse their little children. +</p> + +<p> +College influence, while there had been little said on the subject, had filled +the boy with horror for saloons and drunkards. He stood appalled now as he +turned at last into an alley where familiar objects, doorsteps, turnings, +cellars, met his gaze, with grog shops all along the way and sentinelling every +corner. +</p> + +<p> +A strange feeling came over him as memory stirred by long-forgotten sights +awoke. Was this really the place, and was that opening beyond the third steps +the very blind alley where Janie used to live? Things were so much dirtier, so +much, worse in every way than he remembered them. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried on, not noticing the attention he was attracting from the wretched +little children in the gutters, though he scanned them all eagerly, hurriedly, +with the wild idea that Buck and the rest might be among them. +</p> + +<p> +Yes, the alley was there, dark and ill-smelling as ever, and in its dim +recesses on a dirty step a woman’s figure hunched; a figure he knew at +once that he had seen before and in that very spot. Who was she? What had they +called her? Sally? Aunt Sal? +</p> + +<p> +He hurried up to where she sat looking curiously, apathetically at him; her +gray hair straggling down on her dirty cotton frock open at the neck over +shrivelled yellow skin; soiled old hands hanging carelessly over slatternly +garments; stockingless feet stuck into a great tattered pair of men’s +shoes. Nothing seemed changed since he saw her last save that the hair had been +black then, and the skin not so wrinkled. Aunt Sally had been good natured +always, even when she was drunk; her husband, when he came home was always +drunk also, but never good natured. These things came back to the boy as he +stood looking down at the wreck of a woman before him. +</p> + +<p> +The bleary eyes looked up unknowing, half resentful of his intrusion. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Sally!” impulsively cried the boyish voice. +“Aren’t you Aunt Sally?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman looked stupidly surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“I be,” she said thickly, “but wot’s that to yous? I +beant no hant o’ yourn.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you remember Mikky?” he asked almost anxiously, for +now the feeling had seized him that he must make her remember. He must find out +if he could whether anything was known of his origin. Perhaps she could help +him. Perhaps, after all, he might be able to trace his family, and find at +least no disgrace upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky!” the woman repeated dully. She shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky!” she said again stolidly, “Wot’s Mikky?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you remember Mikky the little boy that sold papers and +brought you water sometimes? Once you gave me a drink of soup from your kettle. +Think!” +</p> + +<p> +A dim perception came into the sodden eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Thur wus a Mikky long ago,” she mused. “He had hair like a +h’angel, bless the sweet chile; but he got shot an’ never come +back. That war long ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael took off his hat and the little light in the dark alley seemed to catch +and tangle in the gleam of his hair. +</p> + +<p> +The old woman started as though she had seen a vision. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us!” she cried aghast, shrinking back into her +doorway with raised hands, “an’ who be yez? Yeh looks enough like +the b’y to be the father of ’im. He’d hair loike the verra +sunshine itself. Who be yez? Spake quick. Be ye man, b’y, er +angel?” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in the woman’s tone that went to the heart of the +lonely boy, even while he recoiled from the repulsive creature before him. +</p> + +<p> +“I am just Mikky, the boy, grown a little older,” he said gently, +“and I’ve come back to see the place where I used to live, and find +the people I used to know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Y’ve lost yer way thin fer shure!” said the woman slightly +recovering her equilibrium. “The loikes uv yous nivver lived in dis +place; fer ef yous ain’t angel you’s gintulmun; an’ no +gintulmun ivver cum from the loikes o’ this. An’ besoides, the +b’y Mikky, I tel’d yez, was shot an’ nivver comed back no +more. He’s loikely up wid de angels where he b’longs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I was shot,” said Michael, “but I wasn’t killed. +A good man sent me to college, and I’ve just graduated and come back to +look up my friends.” +</p> + +<p> +“Frinds, is it, ye’ll be afther a findin’? Thin ye’d +bist look ilsewhar, fer thur’s no one in this alley fit to be frinds with +the loikes uv you. Ef that’s wot they does with b’ys at co-lidge a +pity ’tis more uv um can’t git shot an’ go there. But ef all +yous tell is thrue, moi advice to yez is, juist bate it as hoird as ivver yez +kin out’n yere, an’ don’t yez nivver set oies on this alley +agin. Ye’d better stay to co-lidge all the days uv yer loife than set fut +here agin, fer juist let ’em got holt uv yez an’ they’ll +spile the pretty face uv ye. Look thar!” she pointed tragically toward a +wreck of humanity that reeled into the alley just then. “Would yez loike +to be loike that? My mon come home loike that ivvery day of his loife, rist his +bones, an’ he nivver knowed whin he died.” +</p> + +<p> +Maudlin tears rolled down the poor creature’s cheeks, for they could be +no tears of affection. Her man’s departure from this life could have been +but a relief. Michael recoiled from the sight with a sickening sadness. +Nevertheless he meant to find out if this woman knew aught of his old friends, +or of his origin. He rallied his forces to answer her. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t have to be like that,” he said, “I’ve +come down to look up my friends I tell you, and I want you to tell me if you +know anything about my parents. Did you ever hear anything about me? Did +anybody know who I was or how I came to be here?” +</p> + +<p> +The old woman looked at him only half comprehending, and tried to gather her +scattered faculties, but she shook her grizzled head hopelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t niver laid oies on yea before, an’ how cud I know +whar yez cum from, ner how yez cam to be here?” she answered. +</p> + +<p> +He perceived that it would require patience to extract information from this +source. +</p> + +<p> +“Try to think,” he said more gently. “Can you remember if +anyone ever belonged to the little boy they called Mikky? Was there ever any +mother or father, or—anybody that belonged to him at all.” +</p> + +<p> +Again, she shook her head. +</p> + +<p> +“Niver as Oi knows on. They said he just comed a wee babby to the coourt +a wanderin’ with the other childer, with scarce a rag to his back, +an’ a smile on him like the arch-angel, and some said as how he niver had +no father ner mother, but dthrapped sthraight frum the place where de angels +live.” +</p> + +<p> +“But did no one take care of him, or ever try to find out about +him?” questioned Michael wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Foind out, is it? Whist! An’ who would tak toime to foind out whin +ther’s so miny uv their own. Mikky was allus welcome to a bite an’ +a sup ef any uv us had it by. There wuz old Granny Bane with the rheumatiks. +She gave him a bed an’ a bite now an’ agin, till she died, an +afther that he made out to shift fer hisse’f. He was a moighty +indepindint babby.” +</p> + +<p> +“But had he no other name? Mikky what? What was his whole name?” +pursued Michael with an eagerness that could not give up the sought-for +information. +</p> + +<p> +The old woman only stared stupidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t he have any other name?” There was almost despair in +his tone. +</p> + +<p> +Another shake of the head. +</p> + +<p> +“Juist Mikky!” she said and her eyes grew dull once more. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell me if there are any other people living here now that used +to know Mikky? Are there any other men or women who might remember?” +</p> + +<p> +“How kin Oi tell?” snarled the woman impatiently. “Oi +can’t be bothered.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood in troubled silence and the woman turned her head to watch a +neighbor coming down the street with a basket in her hand. It would seem that +her visitor interested her no longer. She called out some rough, ribaldry to +the woman who glanced up fiercely and deigned no further reply. Then Michael +tried again. +</p> + +<p> +“Could you tell me of the boys who used to go with Mikky?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Oi can’t,” she answered crossly, “Oi can’t +be bothered. Oi don’t know who they was.” +</p> + +<p> +“There was Jimmie and Sam and Bobs and Buck. Surely you remember Buck, +and little Janie. Janie who died after Mikky went away?” +</p> + +<p> +The bleared eyes turned full upon him again. +</p> + +<p> +“Janie? Fine Oi remimber Janie. They had a white hurse to her, +foiner’n any iver cum to the coourt before. The b’ys stayed up two +noights selling to git the money fur it, an’ Buck he stayed stiddy while +she was aloive. Pity she doied.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Buck?” demanded Michael with a sudden twinging of his +heart strings that seemed to bring back the old love and loyalty to his friend. +Buck had needed him perhaps all these years and he had not known. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s whot the <i>po</i>lice would like fer yez to answer, +I’m thinkin’!” laughed old Sal. “They wanted him bad +fer breakin’ into a house an’ mos’ killin’ the lady +an’ gittin’ aff wid de jewl’ry. He beat it dat noight +an’ ain’t none o’ us seen him these two year. He were a slick +one, he were awful smart at breakin’ an’ stealin’. Mebbe +Jimmie knows, but Jimmie, he’s in jail, serving his time fer +shootin’ a man in the hand durin’ a dhrunken fight. Jimmie, +he’s no good. Never wuz. He’s jest like his foither. Bobs, he got +both legs cut aff, bein’ runned over by a big truck, and he doied in the +horspittle. Bobs he were better dead. He’d uv gone loike the rist. Sam, +he’s round these parts mostly nights. Ye’ll hev to come at noight +ef yez want to see him. Mebbe he knows more ’bout Buck’n +he’ll tell.” +</p> + +<p> +Sick at heart Michael put question, after question but no more information was +forthcoming and the old woman showed signs of impatience again. Carefully +noting what she said about Sam and getting a few facts as to the best time and +place to find him Michael turned and walked sadly out of the alley. He did not +see the alert eyes of old Sal following him, nor the keen expression of her +face as she stretched her neck to see which way he turned as he left the alley. +As soon as he was out of sight she shuffled down from her doorstep to the +corner and peered after him through the morning sunshine. Then she went slowly, +thoughtfully back to her doorstep. +</p> + +<p> +“Now whut in the divil could he be a wantin’ wid Buck an’ +Sammie?” she muttered to herself. “All that story ’bout his +bein’ Mikky was puttin’ it on my eye, I’ll giv warnin’ +to Sammie this night, an’ ef Buck’s in these pairts he better git +out west some’res. The <i>po</i>lice uv got onto ’im. But hoiwiver +did they know he knowed Mikky? Poor little angel Mikky! I guv him the shtraight +about Bobs an’ Jimmie, fer they wuz beyant his troublin’ but +he’ll niver foind Sammie from the directin’ I sayed.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael, sorrowing, horror-filled, conscience-stricken, took his way to a +restaurant and ate his dinner, thinking meanwhile what he could do for the +boys. Could he perhaps visit Jimmie in prison and make his life more +comfortable in little ways? Could he plan something for him when he should come +out? Could he help Sam? The old woman had said little about Sam’s +condition. Michael thought he might likely by this time have built up a nice +little business for himself. Perhaps he had a prosperous news stand in some +frequented place. He looked forward eagerly to meeting him again. Sam had +always been a silent child dependent on the rest, but he was one of the little +gang and Michael’s heart warmed toward his former comrade. It could not +be that he would find him so loathsome and repulsive as the old woman Sal. She +made him heart-sick. Just to think of drinking soup from her dirty kettle! How +could he have done it? And yet, he knew no better life then, and he was hungry, +and a little child. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael mused, and all the time with a great heart-hunger to know what had +become of Buck. Could he and Sam together plan some way to find Buck and help +him out of his trouble? How could Buck have done anything so dreadful? And yet +even as he thought it he remembered that “pinching” had not been a +crime in his childhood days, not unless one was found out. How had these +principles, or lack of principles been replaced gradually in his own life +without his realizing it at all? It was all strange and wonderful. Practically +now he, Michael, had been made into a new creature since he left New York, and +so gradually, and pleasantly that he had not at all realized the change that +was going on in him. +</p> + +<p> +Yet as he thought and marvelled there shot through him a thought like a pang, +that perhaps after all it had not been a good thing, this making him into a new +creature, with new desires and aims and hopes that could never be fulfilled. +Perhaps he would have been happier, better off, if he had never been taken out +of that environment and brought to appreciate so keenly another one where he +did not belong, and could never stay, since this old environment was the one +where he must stay whether he would or no. He put the thought from him as +unworthy at once, yet the sharpness of the pang lingered and with it a vision +of Starr’s vivid face as he had seen her two nights before in her +father’s home, before he knew that the door of that home was shut upon +him forever. +</p> + +<p> +Michael passed the day in idly wandering about the city trying to piece +together his old knowledge, and the new, and know the city in which he had come +to dwell. +</p> + +<p> +It was nearing midnight, when Michael, by the advice of old Sal, and utterly +fearless in his ignorance, entered the court where his babyhood had been spent. +</p> + +<p> +The alley was dark and murky with the humidity of the summer night; but unlike +the morning hours it was alive with a writhing, chattering, fighting mass of +humanity. Doorways were overflowing. The narrow alley itself seemed fairly +thronging with noisy, unhappy men and women. Hoarse laughs mingled with rough +cursing, shot through with an occasional scream. Stifling odors lurked in +cellar doorways and struck one full in the face unawares. Curses seemed to be +the setting for all conversation whether angry or jolly. Babies tumbled in the +gutter and older children fought over some scrap of garbage. +</p> + +<p> +Appalled, Michael halted and almost turned back. Then, remembering that this +was where he had come from,—where he belonged,—and that his duty, +his obligation, was to find his friends, he went steadily forward. +</p> + +<p> +There sat old Sal, a belligerent gleam in her small sodden eyes. Four men on a +step opposite, with a candle stood between them, were playing cards. Sal +muttered a word as Michael approached and the candle was suddenly extinguished. +It looked as if one had carelessly knocked it down to the pavement, but the +glare nickered into darkness and Michael could no longer see the men’s +faces. He had wondered if one of them was Sam. But when he rubbed his eyes and +looked again in the darkness the four men were gone and the step was occupied +by two children holding a sleeping baby between them and staring at him in open +mouthed admiration. +</p> + +<p> +The flickering weird light of the distant street lamps, the noise and +confusion, the odors and curses filled him anew with a desire to flee, but he +would not let himself turn back. Never had Michael turned from anything that +was his duty from fear or dislike of anything. +</p> + +<p> +He tried to enter into conversation with old Sal again, but she would have none +of him. She had taken “a wee drapth” and was alert and suspicious. +In fact, the whole alley was on the alert for this elegant stranger who was +none of theirs, and who of course could have come but to spy on some one. He +wanted Sam, therefore Sam was hidden well and at that moment playing a crafty +game in the back of a cellar on the top of an old beer barrel, by the light of +a wavering candle; well guarded by sentinels all along the difficult way. +Michael could have no more found him under those circumstances than he could +have hoped to find a needle in a haystack the size of the whole city of New +York. +</p> + +<p> +He wandered for two hours back and forth through the alley seeing sights long +since forgotten, hearing words unspeakable; following out this and that +suggestion of the interested bystanders; always coming back without finding +Sam. He had not yet comprehended the fact that he was not intended to find Sam. +He had taken these people into his confidence just as he had always taken +everyone into his confidence, and they were playing him false. If they had been +the dwellers on Fifth Avenue he would not have expected them to be interested +in him and his plans and desires; but these were his very own people, at least +the “ownest” he had in the world, and among them he had once gone +freely, confidently. He saw no reason why they should have changed toward him, +though he felt the antagonism in the atmosphere as the night wore on, even as +he had felt it in the Endicott house the day before. +</p> + +<p> +Heartsick and baffled at last he took his way slowly, looking back many times, +and leaving many messages for Sam. He felt as if he simply could not go back to +even so uncomfortable a bed an he called his own in his new lodgings without +having found some clew to his old comrades. +</p> + +<p> +Standing at the corner of the alley opposite the flaunting lights of the saloon +he looked back upon the swarming darkness of the alley and his heart filled +with a great surging wave of pity, love, and sorrow. Almost at his feet in a +dark shadow of a doorway a tiny white-faced boy crouched fast asleep on the +stone threshold. It made him think of little Bobs, and his own barren +childhood, and a mist came before his eyes as he looked up, up at the sky where +the very stars seemed small and far away as if the sky had nothing to do with +this part of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, God!” he said under his breath. “Oh, God! I must do +something for them!” +</p> + +<p> +And then as if the opportunity came with the prayer there reeled into view a +little group of people, three or four men and a woman. +</p> + +<p> +The woman was talking in a high frightened voice and protesting. The men caught +hold of her roughly, laughing and flinging out coarse jests. Then another man +came stealing from the darkness of the alley and joined the group, seizing the +woman by the shoulders and speaking words to her too vile for repetition. In +terrible fear the girl turned, for Michael could see, now that she was nearer, +that she was but a young girl, and that she was pretty. Instantly he thought of +Starr and his whole soul rose in mighty wrath that any man should dare treat +any girl as he had seen these do. Then the girl screamed and struggled to get +away, crying: “It ain’t true, it ain’t true! Lem’me go! +I won’t go with you—” +</p> + +<p> +Instantly Michael was upon them, his powerful arms and supple body dashing the +men right and left. And because of the suddenness of the attack coming from +this most unexpected quarter,—for Michael had stood somewhat in the +shadow—and because of the cowardliness of all bullies, for the moment he +was able to prevail against all four, just long enough for the girl to slip +like a wraith from their grasp and disappear into the shadows. +</p> + +<p> +Then when the men, dazed from surprise, though not seriously hurt, discovered +that their prey was gone and that a stranger from the higher walks of life had +frustrated their plans they fell upon him in their wrath. +</p> + +<p> +Michael brave always, and well trained in athletics, parried their blows for an +instant, but the man, the one who had come from the shadows of the alley, whose +face was evil, stole up behind and stabbed him in the shoulder. The sudden +faintness that followed made him less capable of defending himself. He felt he +was losing his senses, and the next blow from one of the men sent him reeling +into the street where he fell heavily, striking his head against the curbing. +There was a loud cry of murder from a woman’s shrill voice, the padded +rush of the villains into their holes, the distant ring of a policeman’s +whistle, and then all was quiet as a city night could be. Michael lay white and +still with his face looking up to the faint pitying moon so far away and his +beautiful hair wet with the blood that was flowing out on the pavement. There +he lay on the edge of the world that was his own and would not own him. He had +come to his own and his own received him not. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap09"></a>Chapter IX</h3> + +<p> +Michael awoke in the hospital with a bandage around his head and a stinging +pain in his shoulder whenever he tried to move. +</p> + +<p> +Back in his inner consciousness there sounded the last words he heard before he +fell, but he could not connect them with anything at first: +</p> + +<p> +“Hit him again, Sam!” +</p> + +<p> +Those were the words. What did they mean? Had he heard them or merely dreamed +them? And where was he? +</p> + +<p> +A glance about the long room with its rows of white beds each with an occupant +answered his question. He closed his eyes again to be away from all those other +eyes and think. +</p> + +<p> +Sam! He had been looking for Sam. Had Sam then come at last? Had Sam hit him? +Had Sam recognized him? Or was it another Sam? +</p> + +<p> +But there was something queer the matter with his head, and he could not think. +He put up his right arm to feel the bandage and the pain in his shoulder stung +again. Somehow to his feverish fancy it seemed the sting of Mrs. +Endicott’s words to him. He dropped his hand feebly and the nurse gave +him something in a spoon. Then half dreaming he fell asleep, with a vision of +Starr’s face as he had seen her last. +</p> + +<p> +Three weeks he lay upon that narrow white bed, and learned to face the +battalion of eyes from the other narrow beds around him; learned to distinguish +the quiet sounds of the marble lined room from the rumble of the unknown city +without; and when the rumble was the loudest his heart ached with the thought +of the alley and all the horrible sights and sounds that seemed written in +letters of fire across his spirit. +</p> + +<p> +He learned to look upon the quiet monotonous world of ministrations as a haven +from the world outside into which he must presently go; and in his weakened +condition he shrank from the new life. It seemed to be so filled with +disappointments and burdens of sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +But one night a man in his ward died and was carried, silent and covered from +the room. Some of his last moaning utterances had reached the ears of his +fellow sufferers with a swift vision of his life and his home, and his mortal +agony for the past, now that he was leaving it all. +</p> + +<p> +That night Michael could not sleep, for the court and the alley, and the whole +of sunken humanity were pressing upon his heart. It seemed to be his burden +that he must give up all his life’s hopes to bear. And there he had it +out with himself and accepted whatever should come to be his duty. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the wound on his head was healed, the golden halo had covered the +scar, and the cut in his shoulder, which had been only a flesh, wound, was +doing nicely. Michael, was allowed to sit up, and then to be about the room for +a day or two. +</p> + +<p> +It was in those days of his sitting up when the sun which crept in for an hour +a day reached and touched to flame his wonderful hair, that the other men of +the ward began to notice him. He seemed to them all as somehow set apart from +the rest; one who was lifted above what held them down to sin and earth. His +countenance spoke of strength and self-control, the two things that many of +those men lacked, either through constant sinning or through constant fighting +with poverty and trouble, and so, as he began to get about they sent for him to +come to their bedsides, and as they talked one and another of them poured out +his separate tale of sorrow and woe, till Michael felt he could bear no more. +He longed for power, great power to help; power to put these wretched men on +their feet again to lead a new life, power to crush some of the demons in human +form who were grinding them down to earth. Oh! for money and knowledge and +authority! +</p> + +<p> +Here was a man who had lost both legs in a defective machine he was running in +a factory. He was a skilled workman and had a wife and three little ones. But +he was useless now at his trade. No one wanted a man with no legs. He might +better be dead. Damages? No, there was no hope of that. He had accepted three +hundred dollars to sign a release. He had to. His wife and children were +starving and they must have the money then or perish. There was no other way. +Besides, what hope had he in fighting a great corporation? He was a poor man, a +stranger in this country, with no friends. The company had plenty who were +willing to swear it was the man’s own fault. +</p> + +<p> +Yonder was another who had tried to asphyxiate himself by turning on the gas in +his wretched little boarding-house room because he had lost his position on +account of ill health, and the firm wished to put a younger man in his place. +He had almost succeeded in taking himself out of this life. +</p> + +<p> +Next him was one, horribly burned by molten metal which he had been compelled +to carry without adequate precautions, because it was a cheaper method of +handling the stuff and men cost less than machinery. You could always get more +men. +</p> + +<p> +The man across from him was wasted away from insufficient food. He had been out +of work for months, and what little money he could pick up in odd jobs had gone +mostly to his wife and children. +</p> + +<p> +And so it was throughout the ward. On almost every life +sin,—somebody’s sin,—had left its mark. There were one or two +cheery souls who, though poor, were blest with friends and a home of some kind +and were looking forward to a speedy restoration; but these were the exception. +Nearly all the others blamed someone else for their unhappy condition and in +nearly every case someone else was undoubtedly to blame, even though in most +cases each individual had been also somewhat responsible. +</p> + +<p> +All this Michael gradually learned, as he began his practical study of +sociology. As he learned story after story, and began to formulate the facts of +each he came to three conclusions: First, that there was not room enough in the +city for these people to have a fair chance at the great and beautiful things +of life. Second, that the people of the cities who had the good things were +getting them all for themselves and cared not a straw whether the others went +without. Third, that somebody ought to be doing something about it, and why not +he? +</p> + +<p> +Of course it was absurd for a mere boy just out of college, with scarcely a +cent to his name—and not a whole name to call his own—to think of +attempting to attack the great problem of the people single-handed; but still +he felt he was called to do it, and he meant to try. +</p> + +<p> +He hadn’t an idea at this time whether anybody else had seen it just this +way or not. He had read a little of city missions, and charitable enterprises, +but they had scarcely reached his inner consciousness. His impression gathered +from such desultory reading had been that the effort in that direction was +sporadic and ineffective. And so, in his gigantic ignorance and egotism, yet +with his exquisite sensitiveness to the inward call, Michael henceforth set +himself to espouse the cause of the People. +</p> + +<p> +Was he not one of them? Had he not been born there that he might be one of +them, and know what they had to suffer? Were they not his kindred so far as he +had any kindred? Had he not been educated and brought into contact with higher +things that he might know what these other human souls might be if they had the +opportunity? If he had known a little more about the subject he would have +added “and if they <i>would</i>.” But he did not; he supposed all +souls were as willing to be uplifted as he had been. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went out from the hospital feeling that his life work was before him. +The solemn pledge he had taken as a little child to return and help his former +companions became a voluntary pledge of his young manhood. He knew very little +indeed about the matter, but he felt much, and he was determined to do, +wherever the way opened. He had no doubt but that the way would open. +</p> + +<p> +“Now young man, take care of yourself,” said the doctor in parting +from his patient a few days later, “and for the land’s sake keep +away from back alleys at night. When you know a little more about New York +you’ll learn that it’s best to keep just as far away from such +places as possible. Don’t go fooling around under the impression that you +can convert any of those blackguards. They need to be blown up, every one of +them, and the place obliterated. Mind, I say, keep away from them.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled and thanked the doctor, and walked unsteadily down the hospital +steps on feet that were strangely wobbly for him. But Michael did not intend to +obey the doctor. He had been turning the matter over in his mind and he had a +plan. And that very night about ten o’clock he went back to the alley. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal was sitting on her doorstep a little more intoxicated than the last +time, and the young man’s sudden appearance by her side startled her into +an Irish howl. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us!” she cried tottering to her feet. +“He’s cum back to us agin, sure he has! There’s no +killin’ him! He’s an angel shure. B’ys rin! bate it! bate it! +The angel’s here agin!” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sound of scurrying feet and the place seemed to suddenly clear of +the children that had been under foot. One or two scowling men, or curiously +apathetic women in whose eyes the light of life had died and been left +unburied, peered from dark doorways. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood quietly until the howling of Sal had subsided, and then he spoke +in a clear tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Can you tell if Sam has been around here tonight? Is he anywhere near +here now?” +</p> + +<p> +There was no answer for a minute but some one growled out the information that +he might and then he might not have been. Some one else said he had just gone +away but they didn’t know where. Michael perceived that it was a good +deal as it had been before. +</p> + +<p> +“I have brought a message for him, a letter,” he said, and he spoke +so that anyone near-by might hear. “Will you give it to him when he +comes. He will want to see it, I am sure. It is important. I think he will be +glad to get it. It contains good news about an old friend of his.” +</p> + +<p> +He held out the letter courteously to old Sal, and she looked down at its white +crispness as though it had been a message from the lower regions sent to call +her to judgment. A letter, white, square-cornered and clean, with clear, firm +inscription, had never come within her gaze before. Old Sal had never learned +to read. The writing meant nothing to her, but the whole letter represented a +mystic communication from another world. +</p> + +<p> +Instinctively the neighbors gathered nearer to look at the letter, and Sal, +seeing herself the centre of observation, reached forward a dirty hand wrapped +in a corner of her apron, and took the envelope as though it had been hot, +eyeing it all the while fearfully. +</p> + +<p> +Then with his easy bow and touching his hat to her as though she had been a +queen, Michael turned and walked away out of the alley. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal stood watching him, a kind of wistful wonder in her bleary eyes. No +gentleman had ever tipped his hat to her, and no man had ever done her +reverence. From her little childhood she had been brought up to forfeit the +respect of men. Perhaps it had never entered her dull mind before that she +might have been aught but what she was; and that men might have given her +honor. +</p> + +<p> +The neighbors too were awed for the moment and stood watching in silence, till +when Michael turned the corner out of sight, Sal exclaimed: +</p> + +<p> +“Now that’s the angel, shure! No gintlemin would iver uv tipped his +’at to the loikes of Sal. Saints presarve us! That we should hev an angel +in this alley!” +</p> + +<p> +When Michael reached his lodging he found that he was trembling so from +weakness and excitement that he could scarcely drag himself up the three +flights to his room. So had his splendid strength been reduced by trouble and +the fever that came with his wounds. +</p> + +<p> +He lay down weakly and tried to think. Now he had done his best to find Sam. If +Sam did not come in answer to his letter he must wait until he found him. He +would not give up. So he fell asleep with the burden on his heart. +</p> + +<p> +The letter was as follows: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Sam:<br> + You can’t have forgotten Mikky who slept with you in the boiler room, +and with whom you shared your crusts. You remember I promised when I went away +to college I would come back and try to make things better for you all? And now +I have come and I am anxious to find the fellows and see what we can do +together to make life better in the old alley and make up for some of the hard +times when we were children. I have been down to the alley but can get no trace +of you. I spent the best part of one night hunting you and then a slight +accident put me in the hospital for a few days, but I am well now and am +anxious to find you all. I want to talk over old times, and find out where Buck +and Jim are; and hear all about Janie and little Bobs.<br> + I am going to leave this letter with Aunt Sally, hoping she will give it to +you. I have given my address below and should be glad to have you come and see +me at my room, or if you would prefer I will meet you wherever you say, and we +will go together and have something to eat to celebrate.<br> + Hoping to hear from you very soon, I am as always, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Your brother and friend, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +MIKKY. +</p> + +<p> +“Address, Michael Endicott,<br> No —— West 23rd St.” +</p> + +<p> +A few days later a begrimed envelope addressed in pencil was brought to the +door by the postman. Michael with sinking heart opened it. It read: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +MiKY ef yo be reely hym cum to KelLys karner at 10 tumoroW nite. Ef you are mIK +youz thee old whissel an doante bring no une wit yer Ef yO du I wunt be thar. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +SAM. +</p> + +<p> +Michael seated on his lumpy bed puzzled this out, word by word, until he made +fairly good sense of it. He was to go to Kelly’s corner. How memory +stirred at the words. Kelly’s corner was beyond the first turn of the +alley, it was at the extreme end of an alley within an alley, and had no outlet +except through Kelly’s saloon. Only the “gang” knew the name, +“Kelly’s Corner,” for it was not really a corner at all only +a sort of pocket or hiding place so entitled by Buck for his own and “de +kids” private purpose. If Michael had been at all inclined to be a coward +since his recent hard usage in the vicinity of the alley he would have kept +away from Kelly’s corner, for once in there with enemies, and alone, no +policeman’s club, nor hospital ambulance would ever come to help. The +things that happened at Kelly’s corner never got into the newspapers. +</p> + +<p> +Memory and instinct combined to make this perfectly dear to Michael’s +mind, and if he needed no other warning those words of the letter, +“Don’t bring no one with you. If you do, I won’t be +there,” were sufficient to make him wise. +</p> + +<p> +Yet Michael never so much as thought of not keeping the appointment. His +business was to find Sam, and it mattered as little to him now that danger +stood in the way as it had the day when he flung his neglected little body in +front of Starr Endicott and saved her from the assassin’s bullet. He +would go, of course, and go alone. Neither did it occur to him to take the +ordinary precaution of leaving his name and whereabouts at the police station +to be searched for in case he did not turn up in reasonable time. It was all in +the day’s work and Michael thought no more about the possible peril he +was facing than he had thought of broken limbs and bloody noses the last hour +before a football scrimmage. +</p> + +<p> +There was something else in the letter that interested Michael and stirred the +old memories. That old whistle! Of course he had not forgotten that, although +he had not used it much among his college companions. It was a strange, weird, +penetrating sound, between a call and whistle. He and Buck had made it up +between them. It was their old signal. When Michael went to college he had held +it sacred as belonging strictly to his old friends, and never, unless by +himself in the woods where none but the birds and the trees could hear, had he +let its echoes ring. Sometimes he had flung it forth and startled the mocking +birds, and once he had let it ring into the midst of his astonished comrades in +Florida when he was hidden from their view and they knew not who had made the +sound. He tried it now softly, and then louder and louder, until with sudden +fear he stopped lest his landlady should happen to come up that way and think +him insane. But undoubtedly he could give the old signal. +</p> + +<p> +The next night at precisely ten o’clock Michael’s ringing step +sounded down the alley; firm, decisive, secure. Such assurance must Daniel have +worn as he faced the den of lions; and so went the three Hebrew children into +the fiery furnace. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s him! It’s the angel!” whispered old Sal who was +watching. “Oi tould yez he’d come fer shure!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s got his nerve with him!” murmured a girl with bold eyes +and a coarse kind of beauty, as she drew further back into the shadow of the +doorway. “He ain’t comin’ out again so pretty I guess. Not if +Sam don’t like. Mebbe he ain’t comin’ out ’tall!” +</p> + +<p> +“Angels has ways, me darlint!” chuckled Sal. “He’ll +come back al roight, ye’ll see!” +</p> + +<p> +On walked Michael, down the alley to the narrow opening that to the uninitiated +was not an opening between the buildings at all, and slipped in the old way. He +had thought it all out in the night. He was sure he knew just how far beyond +Sal’s house it was; on into the fetid air of the close dark place, the +air that struck him in the face like a hot, wet blanket as he kept on. +</p> + +<p> +It was very still all about when he reached the point known as Kelly’s +corner. It had not been so as he remembered it. It had been the place of plots, +the hatching of murders and robberies. Had it so changed that it was still +tonight? He stood for an instant hesitating. Should he wait a while, or knock +on some door? Would it be any use to call? +</p> + +<p> +But the instinct of the slums was upon him again, his birthright. It seemed to +drop upon him from the atmosphere, a sort of stealthy patience. He would wait. +Something would come. He must do as he had done with the birds of the forest +when he wished to watch their habits. He must stand still unafraid and show +that he was harmless. +</p> + +<p> +So he stood three, perhaps five minutes, then softly at first and gradually +growing clearer, he gave the call that he had given years before, a little +barefoot, hungry child in that very spot many times. +</p> + +<p> +The echo died away. There was nothing to make him know that a group of curious +alley-dwellers huddled at the mouth of the trap in which he stood, watching +with eyes accustomed to the darkness, to see what would happen; to block his +escape if escape should be attempted. +</p> + +<p> +Then out of the silence a sigh seemed to come, and out of the shadows one +shadow unfolded itself and came forward till it stood beside him. Still Michael +did not stir; but softly, through, half-open lips, breathed the signal once +more. +</p> + +<p> +Sibilant, rougher, with a hint of menace as it issued forth the signal was +answered this time, and with a thrill of wonder the mantle of the old life fell +upon Michael once more. He was Mikky—only grown more wise. Almost the old +vernacular came to his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“Hi! Sam! That you?” +</p> + +<p> +The figure in the darkness seemed to stiffen with sudden attention. The voice +was like, and yet not like the Mikky of old. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot yous want?” questioned a voice gruffly. +</p> + +<p> +“I want you, Sam. I want to see if you look as you used to, and I want to +know about the boys. Can’t we go where there’s light and talk a +little? I’ve been days hunting you. I’ve come back because I +promised, you know. You expected me to come back some day, didn’t you, +Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was surprised to find how eager he was for the answer to this question. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, what ye givin’ us?” responded the suspicious Sam. +“D’yous s’pose I b’lieve all that gag about yer +comin’ here to he’p we’uns? Wot would a guy like yous wid all +dem togs an’ all dem fine looks want wid us? Yous has got above us. Yous +ain’t no good to us no more.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam scratched a match on his trousers and lit an old pipe that he held between +his teeth, but as the match flared up and showed his own face a lowering brow, +shifty eyes, a swarthy, unkempt visage, sullen and sly, the shifty eyes were +not looking at the pipe but up at the face above him which shone out white and +fine with its gold halo in the little gleam in the dark court. The watchers +crowding at the opening of the passage saw his face, and almost fancied there +were soft shadowy wings behind him. It was thus with old Sal’s help that +Michael got his name again, “The Angel.” It was thus he became the +“angel of the alley.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sam!” he said, and his voice was very gentle, although he was +perfectly conscious that behind him there were two more shadows of men and more +might be lurking in the dark corners. “Sam, if you remember me you will +know I couldn’t forget; and I do care. I came back to find you. +I’ve always meant to come, all the time I was in college. I’ve had +it in mind to come back here and make some of the hard things easier +for”—he hesitated, and—“for <i>us</i> all.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did yous figger yous was goin’ to do that?” Sam asked, +his little shifty eyes narrowing on Michael, as he purposely struck another +match to watch the effect of his words. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael’s wonderful smile lit up his face, and Sam, however much he +may have pretended to doubt, knew in his deepest heart that this was the same +Mikky of old. There was no mistaking that smile. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall need you to help me in figuring that out, Sam. That’s why +I was so anxious to find you.” +</p> + +<p> +A curious grunt from behind Michael warned him that the audience was being +amused at the expense of Sam, Sam’s brows were lowering. +</p> + +<p> +“Humph!” he said, ungraciously striking a third match just in time +to watch Michael’s face. “Where’s yer pile?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Got the dough?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh,” said Michael comprehendingly, “no, I haven’t got +money, Sam. I’ve only my education.” +</p> + +<p> +“An’ wot good’s it, I’d like to know. Tell me +those?” +</p> + +<p> +“So much good that I can’t tell it all in one short talk,” +answered Michael steadily. “We’ll have to get better acquainted and +then I hope I can make you understand how it has helped. Now tell me about the +others. Where is Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a dead silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s hard to say!” at last muttered Sam irresponsibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you know? Haven’t you any kind of an idea, Sam? +I’d so like to hunt him up.” +</p> + +<p> +The question seemed to have produced a tensity in the very atmosphere, Michael +felt it. +</p> + +<p> +“I might, an’ then agin’ I might not,” answered Sam in +that tone of his that barred the way for further questions. +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t you and I find him and—and—help him, Sam? +Aunt Sally said he was in trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Another match was scratched and held close to his face while the narrow eyes of +Sam seemed to pierce his very soul before Sam answered with an ugly laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he don’t need none o’ your help, you bet. He’s lit +out. You don’t need to worry ’bout Buck, he kin take car’ +o’ hisse’f every time.” +</p> + +<p> +“But won’t he come back sometime?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t say. It’s hard to tell,” non-committally. +</p> + +<p> +“And Jim?” Michael’s voice was sad. +</p> + +<p> +“Jim, he’s doin’ time,” sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry!” said Michael sadly, and a strange hush came +about the dark group. Now why should this queer chap be sorry? No one else +cared, unless it might be Jim, and Jim had got caught. It was nothing to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Now tell me about Janie—and little Bobs—” The +questioner paused. His voice was very low. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, cut it out!” snarled Sam irritably. “Don’t come +any high strikes on their account. They’re dead an’ you can’t +dig ’em up an’ weep over ’em. Hustle up an’ tell us wot +yer wantin’ to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, Sam,” said Michael trying to ignore the natural repulsion he +felt at the last words of his one-time friend, “suppose you take lunch +with me tomorrow at twelve. Then we can talk over things and get back old +times. I will tell you all about my college life and you must tell me all you +are doing.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam was silent from sheer astonishment. Take lunch! Never in his life had he +been invited out to luncheon. Nor had he any desire for an invitation now. +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” he asked after a silence so long that Michael began to +fear he was not going to answer at all. +</p> + +<p> +Michael named a place not far away. He had selected it that morning. It was +clean, somewhat, yet not too clean. The fare was far from princely, but it +would do, and the locality was none too respectable. Michael was enough of a +slum child still to know that his guest would never go with him to a really +respectable restaurant, moreover he would not have the wardrobe nor the +manners. He waited Sam’s answer breathlessly. +</p> + +<p> +Sam gave a queer little laugh as if taken off his guard. The place named was so +entirely harmless, to his mind, and the whole matter of the invitation took on +the form of a great joke. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I might,” he drawled indifferently. “I won’t +make no promises, but I might, an’ then again I might not. It’s +jes’ as it happens. Ef I ain’t there by twelve sharp you +needn’t wait. Jes’ go ahead an’ eat. I wouldn’t want to +spoil yer digestion fer my movements.” +</p> + +<p> +“I shall wait!” said Michael decidedly with his pleasant voice +ringing clear with satisfaction. “You will come, Sam, I know you will. +Good night!” +</p> + +<p> +And then he did a most extraordinary thing. He put out his hand, his clean, +strong hand, warm and healthy and groping with the keenness of low, found the +hardened grimy hand of his one-time companion, and gripped it in a hearty +grasp. +</p> + +<p> +Sam started back with the instant suspicion of attack, and then stood shamedly +still for an instant. The grip of that firm, strong hand, the touch of +brotherhood, a touch such as had never come to his life before since he was a +little child, completed the work that the smile had begun, and Sam knew that +Mikky, the real Mikky was before him. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael walked swiftly down that narrow passage,—at the opening of +which, the human shadows scattered silently and fled, to watch from other +furtive doorways,—down through the alley unmolested, and out into the +street once more. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints presarve us! Wot did I tell yez?” whispered Sal. +“It’s the angel all right fer shure.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder wot he done to Sam,” murmured the girl. “He’s +got his nerve all right, he sure has. Ain’t he beautiful!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap10"></a>Chapter X</h3> + +<p> +Michael went early to his lunch party. He was divided between wondering if his +strange guest would put in an appearance at all; if he did, what he should talk +about; and how he would pilot him through the embarrassing experience of the +meal. One thing he was determined upon. He meant to find out if possible +whether Sam knew anything about his, Michael’s, origin. It was scarcely +likely; and yet, Sam might have heard some talk by older people in the +neighborhood. His one great longing was to find out and clear his name of shame +if possible. +</p> + +<p> +There was another thing that troubled Michael. He was not sure that he would +know Sam even supposing that he came. The glimpse he had caught the night +before when the matches were struck was not particularly illuminating. He had a +dim idea that Sam was below the medium height; with thin, sallow face; small, +narrow eyes; a slouching gait; and a head that was not wide enough from front +to back. He had a feeling that Sam had not room enough in his brain for seeing +all that ought to be seen. Sam did not understand about education. Would he +ever be able to make him understand? +</p> + +<p> +Sam came shuffling along ten minutes after twelve. His sense of dignity would +not have allowed him to be on time. Besides, he wanted to see if Michael would +wait as he had said. It was a part of the testing of Michael; not to prove if +he were really Mikky, but to see what stuff he was made of, and how much he +really had meant of what he said. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was there, standing anxiously outside the eating house. He did not +enjoy the surroundings nor the attention he was attracting. He was too well +dressed for that locality, but these were the oldest clothes he had. He would +have considered them quite shabby at college. He was getting worried lest after +all his plan had failed. Then Sam slouched along, his hat drawn down, his hands +in his pockets, and wearing an air of indifference that almost amounted to +effrontery. He greeted Michael as if there had been no previous arrangement and +this were a chance meeting. There was nothing about his manner to show that he +had purposely come late to put him to the test, but Michael knew intuitively it +was so. +</p> + +<p> +“Shall we go in now?” said Michael smiling happily. He found he was +really glad that Sam had come, repulsive in appearance though he was, hard of +countenance and unfriendly in manner. He felt that he was getting on just a +little in his great object of finding out and helping his old friends, and +perhaps learning something more of his own history. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, I donno’s I care ’bout it!” drawled Sam, just as +if he had not intended going in all the time, nor had been thinking of the +“feed” all the morning in anticipation. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, you better,” said Michael putting a friendly hand on the +others’ shoulder. If he felt a repugnance to touching the tattered, +greasy coat of his one-time friend, he controlled it, remembering how he had +once worn garments far more tattered and filthy. The greatness of his desire to +uplift made him forget everything else. It was the absorption of a supreme task +that had come upon the boy to the exclusion of his own personal tastes. +</p> + +<p> +It was not that Michael was so filled with love for this miserable creature who +used to be his friend, nor so desired to renew old associations after these +long years of separation; it was the terrible need, the conditions of which had +been called vividly to his experience, that appealed to his spirit like a call +of authority to which he answered proudly because of what had once been done +for him. It had come upon him without his knowledge, suddenly, with the revival +of old scenes and memories, but as with all workers for humanity it had gone so +deeply into his soul as to make him forget even that there was such a thing as +sacrifice. +</p> + +<p> +They passed into the restaurant. Michael in his well-made clothing and with his +strikingly handsome face and gold hair attracting at once every eye in the +place: Sam with an insolent air of assurance to cover a sudden embarrassment of +pride at the company he was in. +</p> + +<p> +Michael gave a generous order, and talked pleasantly as they waited. Sam sat in +low-browed silence watching him furtively, almost disconcertingly. +</p> + +<p> +It was when they had reached the course of three kinds of pie and a dab of +dirty looking, pink ice cream professing to be fresh strawberry, that Michael +suddenly looked keenly at his guest and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing now, Sam? In business for yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes narrowed until they were almost eclipsed, though a keen steel +glitter could be seen beneath the colorless lashes. A kind of mask, +impenetrable as lead, seemed to have settled over his face, which had been +gradually relaxing during the meal into a half indulgent grin of interest in +his queer host. +</p> + +<p> +“Yas, I’m in business fer myself,” he drawled at last after +carefully scrutinizing the other’s face to be sure there was no +underlying motive for the question. +</p> + +<p> +“News-stand?” asked Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Not eggs-act-ly!” +</p> + +<p> +“What line?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam finished his mince pie and began on the pumpkin before he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, ther’s sev’ral!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that so? Got more than one string to your bow? That’s a good +thing. You’re better off than I am. I haven’t looked around for a +job yet. I thought I’d get at it tomorrow. You see I wanted to look you +fellows up first before I got tied down to anything where I couldn’t get +off when I wanted to. Perhaps you can put me onto something. How about +it?” +</p> + +<p> +It was characteristic of Michael that he had not once thought of going to +Endicott for the position and help offered him, since the setting down he had +received from Mrs. Endicott. The time appointed for his going to +Endicott’s office was long since passed. He had not even turned the +matter over in his mind once since that awful night of agony and renunciation. +Mrs. Endicott had told him that her husband “had done enough for +him” and he realized that this was true. He would trouble him no more. +Sometime perhaps the world would turn around so that he would have opportunity +to repay Endicott’s kindness that he might not repay in money, but until +then Michael would keep out of his way. It was the one poor little rag of pride +he allowed himself from the shattering of all his hopes. +</p> + +<p> +Sam narrowed his eyes and looked Michael through, then slowly widened them +again, an expression of real interest coming into them. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! Do you mean it?” he asked doubtfully. “Be you straight +goods? Would you come back into de gang an not snitch on us ner +nothin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m straight goods, Sam, and I won’t snitch!” said +Michael quickly. He knew that he could hope for no fellow’s confidence if +he “snitched.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, say, I’ve a notion to tell yeh!” +</p> + +<p> +Sam attacked his ice cream contemplatively. +</p> + +<p> +“How would a bluff game strike you?” he asked suddenly as the last +delectable mouthful of cream disappeared and he pulled the fresh cup of coffee +toward him that the waiter had just set down. +</p> + +<p> +“What sort?” said Michael wondering what he was coming on in the +way of revelation, but resolving not to be horrified at anything. Sam must not +suspect until he could understand what a difference education had made in the +way of looking at things. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, there’s diffrunt ways. Cripple’s purty good. Foot all +tied up in bloody rags, arm an’ hand tied up, a couple o’ old +crutches. I could lend the clo’es. They’d be short fer yeh, but +that’d be all the better gag. We cud swap an’ I’d do the +gen’lman act a while.” He looked covetously at Michael’s +handsome brown tweeds—“Den you goes fom house to house, er you +stands on de corner—” +</p> + +<p> +“Begging!” said Michael aghast. His eyes were on his plate and he +was trying to control his voice, but something of his horror crept into his +tones. Sam felt it and hastened on apologetically— +</p> + +<p> +“Er ef you want to go it one better, keep on yer good cloes an’ +have the asthma bad. I know a feller what’ll teach you how, an’ +sell you the whistles to put in yer mouth. You’ve no notion how it works. +You just go around in the subbubs tellin’ thet you’ve only been out +of the ’orspittal two days an’ you walked all this way to get work +an’ couldn’t get it, an’ you want five cents to get +back—see? Why, I know a feller—course he’s been at it fer +years an’ he has his regular beats—folks don’t seem to +remember—and be can work the ground over ’bout once in six months +er so, and he’s made’s high’s thirty-eight dollars in a day +at asthma work.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam paused triumphant to see what effect the statement had on his friend, but +Michael’s face was toward his coffee cup. +</p> + +<p> +“Seems sort of small business for a man!” he said at last, his +voice steady with control. “Don’t believe I’d be good at +that? Haven’t you got something that’s real <i>work</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes narrowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Ef I thought you was up to it,” he murmured. “You’d be +great with that angel face o’ yourn. Nobody’d ever suspect you. You +could wear them clo’es too. But it’s work all right, an’ +mighty resky. Ef I thought you was up to it—” He continued to look +keenly at Michael, and Michael, with innate instinct felt his heart beat in +discouraged thumps. What new deviltry was Sam about to propose? +</p> + +<p> +“You used to be game all right!” murmured Sam interrogatively. +“You never used to scare easy—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, I’ll tell you,” in answer to Michael’s +questioning eyes which searched his little sharp wizened face—Michael was +wondering if there was anything in that face to redeem it from utter +repulsiveness. +</p> + +<p> +“You see it’s a reg’ler business, an’ you hev to learn, +but I’d give you pinters, all you’d need to know, I’m pretty +slick myself. There’s tools to open things, an’ you hev to be ready +to ’xplain how you come thur an’ jolly up a parlor maid +per’aps. It’s easy to hev made a mistake in the house, er be a gas +man er a plumber wot the boss sent up to look at the pipes. But night +work’s best pay after you get onto things. Thur’s houses where you +ken lay your han’s on things goin’ into the thousands an’ +lots ov um easy to get rid of without anybody findin’ out. There’s +Buck he used to be great at it. He taught all the gang. The day he lit out he +bagged a bit o’ glass wuth tree tousand dollars, ’sides a whole +handful of fivers an’ tens wot he found lyin’ on a dressin’ +table pretty as you please. Buck he were a slick one at it. He’d be +pleased to know you’d took up the work—” +</p> + +<p> +Sam paused and eyed Michael with the first friendly gleam he had shown in his +eyes, and Michael, with his heart in a tumult of varied emotions, and the quick +color flooding brow and cheek, tried to hold himself in check. He must not +speak too hastily. Perhaps he had not understood Sam’s meaning. +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Buck?” Michael looked Sam straight in the eye. The small +pupils seemed to contract and shut out even his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“They ain’t never got a trace of Buck,” he said evasively. +</p> + +<p> +“But don’t you know?” There was something in Michael’s +look that demanded an answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I might an’ I might not,” responded Sam sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was still for several seconds watching Sam; each trying to understand +the other. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you think he will come back where I can see him?” he asked at +length. +</p> + +<p> +“He might, an’ he might not. ’t depends. Ef you was in +th’ bizness he might. It’s hard to say. ’t depends.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched Sam again thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me more about the business,” he said at last, his lips +compressed, his brows drawn down into a frown of intensity. +</p> + +<p> +“Thur ain’t much, more t’tell,” said Sam, still sullen. +“I ain’t sure you’re up to it?” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean by that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t sure you got de sand. You might turn faint and +snitch.” Sam leaned forward and spoke in low rapid sentences. “Wen +we’d got a big haul, ’sposen you’d got into de house +an’ done de pinchin’, and we got the stuff safe hid, an’ you +got tuk up? Would you snitch? Er would you take your pill like a man? +That’s what I’d want to be sure. Mikky would a’ stood by the +gang, but you—you’ve had a edicashun! They might go soft at +college. I ain’t much use fer edicated persons myself. But I’ll +give you a show ef you promise stiff not to snitch. We’ve got a big game +on tonight up on Madison Avenue, an’ we’re a man short. +Dere’s dough in it if we make it go all right. Rich man. Girl goin’ +out to a party tonight. She’s goin’ to wear some dimons wurth a +penny. Hed it in de paper. Brung ’em home from de bank this +mornin’. One o’ de gang watched de feller come out o’ de +bank. It’s all straight so fur. It’s a pretty big haul to let you +in de first try, an’ you’ll hev to run all de risks; but ef you +show you’re game we’ll make it a bargain.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael held himself tensely and fought the desire to choke the fellow before +him; tried to remember that he was the same Sam who had once divided a crust +with him, and whom he had come to help; reflected that he might have been as +bad himself if he had never been taken from the terrible environment of the +slums and shown a better way; knew that if he for one fraction of a second +showed his horror at the evil plot, or made any attempt to stop it all hope of +reaching Sam, or Buck, or any of the others was at an end; and with it all hope +of finding any stray links of his own past history. Besides, though honor was +strong in him and he would never “snitch” on his companions, it +would certainly be better to find out as much as possible about the scheme. +There might be other ways besides “snitching” of stopping such +things. Then suddenly his heart almost stopped beating, Madison Avenue! Sam had +said Madison Avenue, and a girl! What if it were Starr’s jewels they were +planning to take. He knew very little about such matters save what he had read. +It did not occur to him that Starr was not yet “out” in society; +that she would be too young to wear costly jewels and have her costume put in +the paper. He only knew that his heart was throbbing again painfully, and that +the fellow before him seemed too vile to live longer on the same earth with +Starr, little, beautiful, exquisite Starr. +</p> + +<p> +He was quite still when Sam had finished; his face was white with emotion and +his eyes were blazing blue flames when he raised them to look at Sam. Then he +became aware that his answer was awaited. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, do you mean <i>burglary</i>?” He tried to keep his voice low +and steady as he spoke but he felt as if he had shouted the last word. The +restaurant was almost empty now, and the waiters had retired behind the scenes +amid a clatter of dishes. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s about as pretty a word as you can call it, I guess,” +said Sam, drawing back with a snarl as he saw the light in Michael’s +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked him through for an instant, and if a glance can burn then surely +Sam’s little soul shrank scorching into itself, but it was so brief that +the brain which was only keen to things of the earth had not analyzed it. +Michael dropped his glance to the table again, and began playing with his spoon +and trying to get calm with a deep breath as he used to when he knew a hard +spot in a ball game was coming. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, why don’t you speak? You ’fraid?” It was said +with a sneer that a devil from the pit might have given. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael sat up calmly. His heart was beating steadily now and he was +facing his adversary. +</p> + +<p> +“No! I’m not afraid, Sam, if there were any good reason for going, +but you know I never could feel comfortable in getting my living off somebody +else. It doesn’t seem fair to the other fellow. You see they’ve got +a right to the things they own and I haven’t; and because I might be +smart enough to catch them napping and sneak away with what they prize +doesn’t make it right either. Now that girl probably thinks a lot of her +diamonds, you see, and it doesn’t seem quite the manly thing for a big +strong fellow like me to get them away from her, does it? Of course you may +think differently, but I believe I’d rather do some good hard work that +would keep my muscles in trim, than to live off some one else. There’s a +kind of pretty gray moss that grows where I went to college. It floats along a +little seed blown in the air first and lodges on the limb of a tree and begins +to fasten itself into the bark, and grow and grow and suck life from the big +tree. It doesn’t seem much at first, and it seems as if the big tree +might spare enough juice to the little moss. But wait a few years and see what +happens. The moss grows and drapes itself in great long festoons all over that +tree and by and by the first thing you know that tree has lost all its green +leaves and stands up here stark and dead with nothing on its bare branches but +that old gray moss which has to die too because it has nothing to live on any +longer. It never learned to gather any juice for itself. They call the moss a +parasite. I couldn’t be a human parasite, Sam. You may feel differently +about it, but I couldn’t. I really couldn’t.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes had grown dreamy and lost their fire as he remembered the +dear South land, and dead sentinel pines with their waving gray festoons +against the ever blue sky. As he talked he saw the whole great out-of-doors +again where he had wandered now so many years free and happy; free from burdens +of humanity which were pressing him now so sorely. A great longing to fly back +to it all, to get away from the sorrow and the degradation and the shame which +seemed pressing so hard upon him, filled his heart, leaped into his eyes, +caught and fascinated the attention of the listening Sam, who understood very +little of the peroration. He had never heard of a parasite. He did not know he +had always been a human parasite. He was merely astonished and a trifle +fascinated by the passion and appeal in Michael’s face as he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Gosh!” he said in a tone almost of admiration. “Gosh! Is +that wot edicashun done fer you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” said Michael pleasantly, “though I rather think, +Sam, that I always felt a bit that way, I just didn’t know how to say +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you allus was queer!” muttered Sam half apologetically. +“I couldn’t see it that way myself, as you say, but o’ course +it’s your fun’ral! Ef you kin scratch up enough grub bein’ a +tree, why that’s your own lookout. Moss is good ’nough fer me fer +de present.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael beamed his wonderful smile on Sam and answered: “Perhaps +you’ll see it my way some day, Sam, and then we can get a job +together!” +</p> + +<p> +There was so much comraderie in the tone, and so much dazzling brilliancy in +the smile that Sam forgot to be sullen. +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, mebbe,” he chuckled, “but I don’t see no +edicashun comin’ my way dis late day, so I guess I’ll git along de +way I be.” +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t too late yet, Sam. There’s more than one way of +getting an education. It doesn’t always come through college.” +</p> + +<p> +After a little more talk in which Sam promised to find out if there was any way +for Michael to visit Jim in his temporary retirement from the law-abiding +world, and Michael promised to visit Sam in the alley again at an appointed +time, the two separated. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael went forth to reconnoitre and to guard the house of Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +With no thought of any personal danger, Michael laid his plans. Before sundown, +he was on hand, having considered all visible and invisible means of ingress to +the house. He watched from a suitable distance all who came and went. He saw +Mr. Endicott come home. He waited till the evening drew near when a luxurious +limousine stopped before the door; assured himself that only Mrs. Endicott had +gone out. A little later Mr. Endicott also left the house. Starr had not gone +out. He felt that he had double need to watch now as she was there alone with +only the servants. +</p> + +<p> +Up and down he walked. No one passed the Endicott house unwatched by him. None +came forth or went in of whom he did not take careful notice. +</p> + +<p> +The evening passed, and the master and mistress of the house returned. One by +one the lights went out. Even in the servants’ rooms all was dark at +last. The night deepened and the stars thickened overhead. +</p> + +<p> +The policeman’s whistle sounded through the quiet streets and the city +seemed at last to be sinking into a brief repose. It was long past midnight, +and still Michael kept up his patrol. Up this side of the street, down that, +around the corner, through the alley at the back where “de kids” +had stood in silent respect uncovered toward his window years ago; back to the +avenue again, and on around. With his cheery whistle and his steady ringing +step he awakened no suspicion even when he came near to a policeman; and +besides, no lurkers of the dark would steal out while he was so noisily in the +neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +And so he watched the night through, till the morning broke and sunshine +flooded the window of the room where Starr, unconscious of his vigil, lay +a-sleeping. +</p> + +<p> +Busy milk wagons were making their rounds, and sleepy workmen with dinner pails +slung over their arms were striding to their day’s work through the cool +of the morning, as Michael turned his steps toward his lodging. Broad morning +was upon them and deeds of darkness could be no more. The night was passed. +Nothing had happened. Starr was safe. He went home and to sleep well pleased. +He might not companion with her, but it was his privilege to guard her from +unsuspected evils. That was one joy that could not be taken from him by the +taint that was upon him. Perhaps his being a child of the slums might yet prove +to be a help to guard her life from harm. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap11"></a>Chapter XI</h3> + +<p> +It was the first week in September that Michael, passing through a crowded +thoroughfare, came face to face with Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +The days had passed into weeks and Michael had not gone near his benefactor. He +had felt that he must drop out of his old friend’s life until a time came +that he could show his gratitude for the past. Meantime he had not been idle. +His winning smile and clear eyes had been his passport; and after a few +preliminary experiences he had secured a position as salesman in a large +department store. His college diploma and a letter from the college president +were his references. He was not earning much, but enough to pay his absolute +expenses and a trifle over. Meantime he was gaining experience. +</p> + +<p> +This Saturday morning of the first week of September he had come to the store +as usual, but had found that on account of the sudden death of a member of the +firm the store would be closed for the day. +</p> + +<p> +He was wondering how he should spend his holiday and wishing that he might get +out into the open and breathe once more the free air under waving trees, and +listen to the birds, and the waters and the winds. He was half tempted to +squander a few cents and go to Coney Island or up the Hudson, somewhere, +anywhere to get out of the grinding noisy tempestuous city, whose sin and +burden pressed upon his heart night and day because of that from which he had +been saved; and of that from which he had not the power to save others. +</p> + +<p> +Then out of an open doorway rushed a man, going toward a waiting automobile, +and almost knocking Michael over in his progress. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! It is you, young man! At last! Well, I should like to know what you +have done with yourself all these weeks and why you didn’t keep your +appointment with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said Michael, pleasure and shame striving together in his +face. He could see that the other man was not angry, and was really relieved to +have found him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where are you going, son?” Endicotts tone had already changed from +gruffness to kindly welcome. “Jump in and run down to the wharf with me +while you give an account of yourself. I’m going down to see Mrs. +Endicott off to Europe. She is taking Starr over to school this winter. +I’m late already, so jump in.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael seemed to have no choice and stepped into the car, which was whirled +through the intricate maze of humanity and machinery down toward the regions +where the ocean-going steamers harbor. +</p> + +<p> +His heart was in a tumult at once, both of embarrassed joy to be in the +presence of the man who had done so much for him, and of eager anticipation. +Starr! Would he see Starr again? That was the thought uppermost in his mind. He +had not as yet realized that she was going away for a long time. +</p> + +<p> +All the spring time he had kept guard over the house in Madison Avenue. Not all +night of course, but hovering about there now and then, and for two weeks after +he had talked with Sam, nightly. Always he had walked that way before retiring +and looked toward the window where burned a soft light. Then they had gone to +the seashore and the mountains and the house had put on solemn shutters and +lain asleep. +</p> + +<p> +Michael knew all about it from a stray paragraph in the society column of the +daily paper which he happened to read. +</p> + +<p> +Toward the end of August he had made a round through Madison Avenue every night +to see if they had returned home, and for a week the shutters had been down and +the lights burning as of old. It had been good to know that his charge was back +there safely. And now he was to see her. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Give an account of yourself. Were you trying to keep out of my +sight? Why didn’t you come to my office?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked him straight in the eye with his honest, clear gaze that showed +no sowing of wild oats, no dissipation or desire to get away from friendly +espionage. He decided in a flash of a thought that this man should never know +the blow his beautiful, haughty wife had dealt him. It was true, all she had +said, and he, Michael, would give the real reason why he had not come. +</p> + +<p> +“Because I thought you had done for me far more than I deserved already, +and I did not wish to be any further burden to you.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dickens you did!” exclaimed Endicott. “You +good-for-nothing rascal, didn’t you know you would be far more of a +burden running off in that style without leaving a trace of yourself behind so +I could hunt you up, than if you had behaved yourself and done as I told you? +Here I have been doing a lot of unnecessary worrying about you. I thought you +had fallen among thieves or something, or else gone to the dogs. Don’t +you know that is a most unpardonable thing to do, run off from a man who has +told you he wants to see you? I thought I made you understand that I had more +than a passing interest in your welfare!” +</p> + +<p> +The color came into the fine, strong face and a pained expression in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t think of it that way. I thought you +felt some kind of an obligation; I never felt so, but you said you did; and I +thought if I got out of your way I would trouble you no more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Trouble me! Trouble me! Why, son, I like to be troubled once in a while +by something besides getting money and spending it. You never gave me a shadow +of trouble, except these last weeks when you’ve disappeared and I +couldn’t do anything for you. You’ve somehow crept into my life and +I can’t get you out. In fact, I don’t want to. But, boy, if you +felt that way, what made you come to New York at all? You didn’t feel +that way the night you came to my house to dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes owned that this was true, but his firm lips showed that he +would never betray the real reason for the change. +</p> + +<p> +“I—didn’t—realize—sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Realize? Realize what?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t realize the difference between my station and yours, sir. +There had never been anything during my years in school to make me know. I am a +‘child of the slums’”—unconsciously he drifted into +quotations from Mrs. Endicott’s speech to him—“and you belong +to a fine old family. I don’t know what terrible things are in my blood. +You have riches and a name beyond reproach—” He had seen the words +in an article he had read the evening before, and felt that they fitted the man +and the occasion. He did not know that he was quoting. They had become a part +of his thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“I might make the riches if I tried hard,” he held up his head +proudly, “but I could never make the name. I will always be a child of +the slums, no matter what I do!” +</p> + +<p> +“Child of the fiddlesticks!” interrupted Endicott. “Wherever +did you get all that, rot? It sounds as if you had been attending society +functions and listening to their twaddle. It doesn’t matter what you are +the child of, if you’re a mind to be a man. This is a free country, son, +and you can be and climb where you please. Tell me, where did you get all these +ideas?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down. He did not wish to answer. +</p> + +<p> +“In a number of places,” he answered evasively. +</p> + +<p> +“Where!” +</p> + +<p> +“For one thing, I’ve been down to the alley where I used to +live.” The eyes were looking into his now, and Endicott felt a strange +swelling of pride that he had had a hand in the making of this young man. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know from what you’ve taken me—I can never be what you +are!” +</p> + +<p> +“Therefore you won’t try to be anything? Is that it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no! I’ll try to be all that I can, but—I don’t +belong with you. I’m of another class—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, bosh! Cut that out, son! Real men don’t talk like that. +You’re a better man now than any of the pedigreed dudes I know of, and as +for taints in the blood, I could tell you of some of the sons of great men who +have taints as bad as any child of the slums. Young man, you can be whatever +you set out to be in this world! Remember that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Everyone does not feel that way,” said Michael with conviction, +though he was conscious of great pleasure in Endicott’s hearty words. +</p> + +<p> +“Who, for instance?” asked Endicott looking at him sharply. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was silent. He could not tell him. +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” asked the insistent voice once more. +</p> + +<p> +“The world!” evaded Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“The world is brainless. You can make the world think what you like, son, +remember that! Here we are. Would you like to come aboard?” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael stood back. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I will wait here,” he said gravely. It had come to him +that Mrs. Endicott would be there. He must not intrude, not even to see Starr +once more. Besides, she had made it a point of honor for him to keep away from +her daughter. He had no choice but to obey. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Endicott, “but see you don’t lose +yourself again. I want to see you about something. I’ll not be long. It +must be nearly time for starting.” He hurried away and Michael stood on +the edge of the throng looking up at the great floating village. +</p> + +<p> +It was his first view of an ocean-going steamer at close range and everything +about it interested him. He wished he might have gone aboard and looked the +vessel over. He would like to know about the engines and see the cabins, and +especially the steerage about which he had read so much. But perhaps there +would be an opportunity again. Surely there would be. He would go to Ellis +Island, too, and see the emigrants as they came into the country, seeking a new +home where they had been led to expect to find comfort and plenty of work, and +finding none; landing most of them, inevitably, in the slums of the cities +where the population was already congested and where vice and disease stood +ready to prey upon them. Michael had been spending enough time in the alleys of +the metropolis to be already deeply interested in the problem of the city, and +deeply pained by its sorrows. +</p> + +<p> +But his thoughts were not altogether of the masses and the classes as he stood +in the bright sunlight and gazed at the great vessel about to plow its way over +the bright waters. He was realizing that somewhere within those many little +windowed cabins was a bright faced girl, the only one of womankind in all the +earth about whom his tender thoughts had ever hovered. Would he catch a glimpse +of her face once more before she went away for the winter? She was going to +school, her father had said. How could they bear to send her across the water +from them? A whole winter was a long time; and yet, it would pass. Thirteen +years had passed since he went away from New York, and he was back. It would +not be so long as that. She would return, and need him perhaps. He would be +there and be ready when he was needed. +</p> + +<p> +The fine lips set in a strong line that was good to see. There were the +patient, fearless lines of a soldier in the boy’s face, and rugged +strength in spite of his unusual beauty of countenance. It is not often one +sees a face like Michael’s. There was nothing womanish in his looks. It +was rather the completeness of strength and courage combined with mighty +modelling and perfection of coloring, that made men turn and look after him and +look again, as though they had seen a god; and made women exclaim over him. If +he had been born in the circles of aristocracy he would have been the idol of +society, the spoiled of all who knew him. He was even now being stared at by +every one in sight, and more than one pair of marine glasses from the first +cabin deck were pointed at him; but he stood deep in his thoughts and utterly +unconscious of his own attraction. +</p> + +<p> +It was only a moment before the first warning came, and people crowded on the +wharf side of the decks, while others hurried down the gang plank. Michael +watched the confusion with eagerness, his eyes searching the decks for all +possible chance of seeing Starr. +</p> + +<p> +When the last warning was given, and just as the gang plank was about to be +hauled up, Mr. Endicott came hurrying down, and Michael suddenly saw her face +in the crowd on the deck above, her mother’s haughtily pretty face just +behind her. +</p> + +<p> +Without in the least realizing what he was doing Michael moved through the +crowd until he stood close behind Starr’s father, and then all at once he +became aware that her starry eyes were upon him, and she recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +He lifted his hat and stood in reverent attitude as though in the presence of a +queen, his eyes glowing eloquently, his speaking face paying her tribute as +plainly as words could have done. The noonday sun burnished his hair with its +aureole flame, and more than one of the passengers called attention to the +sight. +</p> + +<p> +“See that man down there!” exclaimed a woman of the world close +behind Mrs. Endicott. “Isn’t he magnificent! He has a head and +shoulders like a young god!” She spoke as if her acquaintance with gods +was wide, and her neighbors turned to look. +</p> + +<p> +“See, mamma,” whispered Starr glowing rosily with pleasure, +“they are speaking of Michael!” +</p> + +<p> +Then the haughty eyes turned sharply and recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean to tell me that upstart has dared to come down and +see us off. The impudence of him! I am glad your father had enough sense not to +bring him on board. He would probably have come if he had let him. Come away, +Starr. He simply shall not look at you in that way!” +</p> + +<p> +“What! Come away while papa is standing there watching us out of sight. I +simply couldn’t. What would papa think? And besides, I don’t see +why Michael shouldn’t come if he likes. I think it was nice of him. I +wonder why he hasn’t been to the house to explain why he never came for +that horseback ride.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re a very silly ignorant little girl, or you would understand +that he has no business presuming to come to our house; and he knows it +perfectly well. I want you to stop looking in that direction at once. I simply +will not have him devouring you with his eyes in that way. I declare I would +like to go back and tell him what I think of him. Starr, stop I tell you, +Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +But the noise of the starting drowned her words, and Starr, her cheeks like +roses and her eyes like two stars, was waving a bit of a handkerchief and +smiling and throwing kisses. The kisses were for her father, but the smiles and +the starry glances, and the waving bit of cambric were for Michael, and they +all travelled through the air quite promiscuously, drenching the bright +uncovered head of the boy with sweetness. His eyes gave her greeting and thanks +and parting all in one in that brief moment of her passing: and her graceful +form and dainty vivid face were graven on his memory in quick sweet blows of +pain, as he realized that she was going from him. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the great vessel glided out upon the bright waters and grew smaller and +smaller. The crowd on the wharf were beginning to break away and hurry back to +business or home or society. Still Michael stood with bared head gazing, and +that illumined expression upon his face. +</p> + +<p> +Endicott, a mist upon his own glasses at parting from his beloved baby, saw the +boy’s face as it were the face of an angel; and was half startled, +turning away embarrassedly as though he had intruded upon a soul at prayer; +then looked again. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, son!” he said almost huskily. “It’s over! We +better be getting back. Step in.” +</p> + +<p> +The ride back to the office was a silent one. Somehow Endicott did not feel +like talking. There had been some differences between himself and his wife that +were annoying, and a strange belated regret that he had let Starr go away for a +foreign education was eating into his heart. Michael, on his part, was living +over again the passing of the vessel and the blessing of the parting. +</p> + +<p> +Back in the office, however, all was different. Among the familiar walls and +gloomy desks and chairs Endicott was himself, and talked business. He put +questions, short, sharp and in quick succession. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing with yourself? Working? What at? H’m! +How’d you get there? Like it? Satisfied to do that all your life? +You’re not? Well, what’s your line? Any ambitions? You ought to +have got some notion in college of what you’re fit for. Have you thought +what you’d like to do in the world?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael hesitated, then looked up with his clear, direct, challenging gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“There are two things,” he said, “I want to earn money and +buy some land in the country, and I want to know about laws.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean you want to be a lawyer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“What makes you think you’d be a success as a lawyer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I might not be a success, but I need to know law, I want to try to +stop some things that ought not to be.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” grunted Endicott disapprovingly. “Don’t +try the reform game, it doesn’t pay. However, if you feel that way +you’ll probably be all right to start. That’ll work itself off and +be a good foundation. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be a +lawyer if you choose, but you can’t study law selling calico. You might +get there some day, if you stick to your ambition, but you’d be pretty +old before you were ready to practice if you started at the calico counter and +worked your way up through everything you came to. Well, I can get you into a +law office right away. How soon can you honorably get away from where you are? +Two weeks? Well, just wait a minute.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott called up a number on the telephone by his side, and there followed a +conversation, brief, pointed, but in terms that Michael could barely follow. He +gathered that a lawyer named Holt, a friend of Mr. Endicott’s, was being +asked to take him into his office to read law. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s all right, son,” said Endicott as he hung up the +receiver and whirled around from the ’phone. “You’re to +present yourself at the office as soon as you are free. This is the +address”—hurriedly scribbling something on a card and handing it to +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, thank you!” said Michael, “but I didn’t mean to +have you take any more trouble for me. I can’t be dependent on you any +longer. You have done so much for me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Bosh!” said Endicott, “I’m not taking any trouble. And +you’re not dependent on me. Be as independent as you like. You’re +not quite twenty-one yet, are you? Well, I told you you were my boy until you +were of age, and I suppose there’s nothing to hinder me doing as I will +with my own. It’s paid well all I’ve done for you so far, and I +feel the investment was a good one. You’ll get a small salary for some +office work while you’re studying, so after you are twenty-one you can +set up for yourself if you like. Till then I claim the privilege of giving you +a few orders. Now that’s settled. Where are you stopping? I don’t +intend to lose sight of you again.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael gave him the street and number. Endicott frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s not a good place. I don’t like the neighborhood. If +you’re going to be a lawyer, you must start in right. Here, try this +place. Tell the woman I sent you. One of my clerks used to board there.” +</p> + +<p> +He handed Michael another address. +</p> + +<p> +“Won’t that cost a lot?” asked Michael studying the card. +“Not any more than you can afford,” said Endicott, “and +remember, I’m giving orders until your majority.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael beamed his brilliant smile at his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +“It is like a real father!” said the boy deeply moved. “I can +never repay you. I can never forget it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, don’t!” said Endicott. “Let’s turn to the +other thing. What do you want land for?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face sobered instantly. +</p> + +<p> +“For an experiment I want to try,” he said without hesitation, and +then, his eyes lighting up, “I’ll be able to do it now, soon, +perhaps, if I work hard. You see I studied agriculture in college—” +</p> + +<p> +“The dickens you did!” exclaimed Endicott. “What did you do +that for?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it was there and I could, and I wanted to know about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” said Endicott. “I wonder what some of my +pedigreed million-dollar friend’s sons would think of that? Well, go +on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, that’s all,” laughed Michael happily. “I studied +it and I want to try it and see what I can do with it. I want to buy a +farm.” +</p> + +<p> +“How would you manage to be a farmer and a lawyer both?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I thought there might he a little time after hours to work, and I +could tell others how—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I see you want to be a gentleman farmer,” laughed Endicott. +“I understand that’s expensive business.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I could make it pay, sir.” said Michael shutting his lips +with that firm challenge of his. “I’d like to try.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott looked at him quizzically for a minute and then whirling around in his +office chair he reached out his hand to a pigeon hole and took out a deed. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve a mind to let you have your try,” said Endicott, +chuckling as if it were a good joke. “Here’s a little farm down in +Jersey. It’s swampy and thick with mosquitoes. I understand it +won’t grow a beanstalk. There are twelve acres and a tumble-down house on +it. I’ve had to take it in settlement of a mortgage. The man’s dead +and there’s nothing but the farm to lay hands on. He hasn’t even +left a chick or child to leave his debt to. I don’t want the farm and I +can’t sell it without a lot of trouble. I’ll give it to you. You +may consider it a birthday present. If you’ll pay the taxes I’ll be +glad to get it off my hands. That’ll be something for you to be +independent about.” +</p> + +<p> +He touched a bell and a boy appeared. +</p> + +<p> +“Take this to Jowett and tell him to have a deed made out to Michael +Endicott, and to attend to the transfer of the property, nominal sum. +Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +The boy said, “Yes, sir,” and disappeared with the paper. +</p> + +<p> +“But I can’t take a present like that from you after all you have +done for me,” gasped Michael, a granite determination showing in his blue +eyes. “Nonsense,” said Endicott. “Other men give their sons +automobiles when they come of age. Mayn’t I give you a farm if I like? +Besides, I tell you it’s of no account. I want to get rid of it, and I +want to see what you’ll make of it. I’d like to amuse myself seeing +you try your experiment.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’ll let me pay you for it little by little—” +</p> + +<p> +“Suit yourself after you have become a great lawyer,” laughed +Endicott, “but not till then, remember. There, cut it out, son! I +don’t want to be thanked. Here’s the description of the place and +directions how to get there. It isn’t many miles away. If you’ve +got a half holiday run down and look it over. It’ll keep you out of +mischief. There’s nothing like an ambition to keep people out of +mischief. Run along now, I haven’t another minute to spare, but mind you +turn up at Holt’s office this day two weeks, and report to me afterwards +how you like it. I don’t want to lose sight of you again.” +</p> + +<p> +The entrance of another man on business cut short the interview, and Michael, +bestowing an agonizingly happy grip on Endicott’s hand and a brilliant +smile like a benediction, took his directions and hurried out into the street. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap12"></a>Chapter XII</h3> + +<p> +With the precious paper in his hand Michael took himself with all swiftness to +the DesBrosses Ferry. Would there be a train? It was almost two o’clock. +He had had no lunch, but what of that? He had that in his heart which made mere +eating seem unnecessary. The experiences of the past two hours had lifted him +above, earth and its necessities for the time. And a farm, a real farm! Could +it be true? Had his wish come true so soon? He could scarcely wait for the car +to carry him or the boat to puff its way across the water. He felt as if he +must fly to see his new possession. And Mr. Endicott had said he might pay for +it sometime when he got to be a great lawyer. He had no doubt but that he would +get there if such a thing were possible, and anyhow he meant to pay for that +ground. Meantime it was his. He was not a poor nobody after all. He owned land, +and a house. +</p> + +<p> +His face was a mingling of delightful emotions as he stood by the rail of the +ferry-boat and let his imagination leap on ahead of him. The day was perfect. +It had rained the night before and everything, even the air seemed newly washed +for a fresh trial at living. Every little wavelet sparkled like a jewel, and +the sunlight shimmered on the water in a most alluring way. Michael forgot for +the moment the sorrow and misery of the crowded city he was leaving behind him. +For this afternoon at least he was a boy again wandering off into the open. +</p> + +<p> +His train was being called as he stepped from the ferry-boat. The next boat +would have missed it. He hurried aboard and was soon speeding through the open +country, with now and again a glimpse of the sea, as the train came closer to +the beach. They passed almost continuously beautiful resorts, private villas, +great hotels, miles of cottages set in green terrace with glowing autumn +flowers in boxes or bordering the paths. +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched everything with deep interest. This was the land of his new +possession. Whatever was growing here would be likely to grow on his place if +it were properly planted and cared for. Ere this flowers had had little part in +his farming scheme, but so soon as he saw the brilliant display he resolved +that he must have some of those also. And flowers would sell as well if not +better than vegetables if properly marketed. +</p> + +<p> +That vivid hedge of scarlet and gold, great heavy-headed dahlias they were. He +did not know the name, but he would find it out somehow. They would take up +little room and would make his new place a thing of beauty. Farther on, one +great white cottage spread its veranda wings on either side to a tall fringe of +pink and white and crimson cosmos; and again a rambling gray stone piece of +quaint architecture with low sloping roofs of mossy green, and velvet lawn +creeping down even to the white beach sands, was set about with flaming scarlet +sage. It was a revelation to the boy whose eyes had never looked upon the like +before. Nature in its wildness and original beauty had been in Florida; New +York was all pavements and buildings with a window box here and there. He as +yet knew nothing of country homes in their luxury and perfection, save from +magazine pictures. All the way along he was picking out features that he meant +some day to transfer to his own little farm. +</p> + +<p> +It was after three when he reached the station, and a good fifteen minutes walk +to the farm, but every step of it was a delight. +</p> + +<p> +Pearl Beach, they called the station. The beach was half a mile from the +railroad, and a queer little straggling town mostly cottages and a few stores +hovered between railroad and beach. A river, broad, and shallow, wound its +silver way about the village and lost itself in the wideness of the ocean. Here +and there a white sail flew across its gleaming centre, and fishermen in little +boats sat at their idle task. What if his land should touch somewhere this +bonny stream! +</p> + +<p> +Too eager to wait for investigation he stopped a passing stranger and +questioned him. Yes, the river was salt. It had tides with the sea, too. There +was great fishing and sailing, and some preferred bathing there to the ocean. +Yes, Old Orchard farm was on its bank. It had a river frontage of several +hundred feet but it was over a mile back from the beach. +</p> + +<p> +The stranger was disposed to delay and gossip about the death of the former +owner of Old Orchard and its probable fate now that the mortgage had been +foreclosed; but Michael with a happy light in his eyes thanked him courteously +and hurried on. Wings were upon his feet, and his heart was light and happy. He +felt like a bird set free. He breathed in the strong salt air with delight. +</p> + +<p> +And then the burden of the city came to him again, the city with all its noise +and folly and sin; with its smells and heat, and lack of air; with its crowded, +suffering, awful humanity, herded together like cattle, and living in +conditions worse than the beasts of the fields. If he could but bring them out +here, bring some of them at least; and show them what God’s earth was +like! Ah! +</p> + +<p> +His heart beat wildly at the thought! It was not new. He had harbored it ever +since his first visit to the alley. It was his great secret, his much hoped for +experiment. If he might be able to do it sometime. This bit of a farm would +open the way. There would be money needed of course, and where was it to come +from? But he could work. He was strong. He would give his young life for his +people—save them from their ignorance and despair. At least he could save +some; even one would be worth while. +</p> + +<p> +So he mused as he hurried on, eyes and mind open to all he saw. +</p> + +<p> +There was no fence in front of Old Orchard farm. A white road bordered with +golden rod and wild asters met the scraggly grass that matted and tangled +itself beneath the gnarled apple trees. A grassy rutted wagon track curved +itself in vistas between the trees up to the house which was set far back from +the road. A man passing identified the place for Michael, and looked him over +apprizingly, wondering as did all who saw him, at the power and strength of his +beauty. +</p> + +<p> +The house was weather-beaten unpainted clapboards, its roof of curled and mossy +shingles possessing undoubted leakable qualities, patched here and there. A +crazy veranda ambled across the front. It contained a long low room with a +queer old-fashioned chimney place wide enough to sit in, a square south room +that must have been a dining-room because of the painted cupboard whose empty +shelves gazed ghastly between half-open doors, and a small kitchen, not much +more than a shed. In the long low room a staircase twisted itself up oddly to +the four rooms under the leaky roof. It was all empty and desolate, save for an +old cot bed and a broken chair. The floors had a sagged, shaky appearance. The +doors quaked when they were opened. The windows were cobwebby and dreary, yet +it looked to the eyes of the new householder like a palace. He saw it in the +light of future possibilities and gloried in it. That chimney place now. How +would it look with a great log burning in it, and a rug and rocking chair +before it. What would—Aunt Sally—perhaps—say to it when he +got it fixed up? Could he ever coax her to leave her dirty doorstep and her +drink and come out here to live? And how would he manage it all if he could? +There would have to be something to feed her with, and to buy the rug and the +rocking chair. And first of all there would have to be a bath-tub. Aunt Sally +would need to be purified before she could enter the portals of this ideal +cottage, when he had made it as he wanted it to be. Paint and paper would make +wonderful transformations he knew, for he had often helped at remodelling the +rooms at college during summer vacations. He had watched and been with the +workmen and finally taken a hand. This habit of watching and helping had taught +him many things. But where were paper and paint and time to use it coming from? +Ah, well, leave that to the future. He would find a way. Yesterday he did not +have the house nor the land for it to stand upon. It had come and the rest +would follow in their time. +</p> + +<p> +He went happily about planning for a bath-room. There would have to be water +power. He had seen windmills on other places as he passed. That was perhaps the +solution of this problem, but windmills cost money of course. Still,—all +in good time. +</p> + +<p> +There was a tumbled-down barn and chicken house, and a frowzy attempt at a +garden. A strawberry bed overgrown with weeds, a sickly cabbage lifting its +head bravely; a gaunt row of currant bushes; another wandering, out-reaching +row of raspberries; a broken fence; a stretch of soppy bog land to the right, +and the farm trailed off into desolate neglect ending in a charming grove of +thick trees that stood close down to the river’s bank. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went over it all carefully, noted the exposure of the land, kicked the +sandy soil to examine its unpromising state, walked all around the bog and +tried to remember what he had read about cranberry bogs; wondered if the salt +water came up here, and if it were good or bad for cranberries; wondered if cow +peas grew in Jersey and if they would do for a fertilizing crop as they did in +Florida. Then he walked through the lovely woods, scenting the breath of pines +and drawing in long whiffs of life as he looked up to the green roof over his +head. They were not like the giant pines of the South land, but they were +sweeter and more beautiful in their form. +</p> + +<p> +He went down to the brink of the river and stood looking across. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul was in sight and nothing moved save a distant sail fleeing across +the silver sheen to the sea. He remembered what the man had said about bathing +and yielding to an irresistible impulse was soon swimming out across the water. +It was like a new lease of life to feel the water brimming to his neck again, +and to propel himself with strong, graceful strokes through the element where +he would. A bird shot up into the air with a wild sweet note, and he felt like +answering to its melody. He whistled softly in imitation of its voice, and the +bird answered, and again and again they called across the water. +</p> + +<p> +But a look toward the west where the water was crimsoning already with the +setting sun warned him that his time was short, so he swam back to the +sheltered nook where he had left his clothes, and improvising a towel from his +handkerchief he dressed rapidly. The last train back left at seven. If he did +not wish to spend the night in his new and uninhabitable abode he must make +good time. It was later than he supposed, and he wished to go back to the +station by way of the beach if possible, though it was out of his way. As he +drew on his coat and ran his fingers through his hair in lieu of a brush, he +looked wistfully at the bright water, dimpling now with hues of violet, pink, +and gold and promising a rare treat in the way of a sunset. He would like to +stay and watch it. But there was the ocean waiting for him. He must stand on +the shore once and look out across it, and know just how it looked near his own +house. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried through the grove and across the farm to the eastern edge, and +looking beyond the broken fence that marked the bounds of the bog land over the +waste of salt grass he could see the white waves dimly tumbling, hurrying ever, +to get past one another. He took the fence at a bound, made good time over the +uncertain footing of the marsh grass and was soon standing on the broad smooth +beach with the open stretch of ocean before him. +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time he had ever stood on the seashore and the feeling of awe +that filled him was very great. But beyond any other sensation, came the +thought that Starr, his beautiful Starr, was out there on that wide vast ocean, +tossing in a tiny boat. For now the great steamer that had seemed so large and +palatial, had dwindled in his mind to a frail toy, and he was filled with a +nameless fear for her. His little Starr out there on that fearful deep, with +only that cold-eyed mother to take care of her. A wild desire to fly to her and +bring her back possessed him; a thrilling, awesome something, he had never +known before. He stood speechless before it; then raised his eyes to the +roseate already purpling in streaks for the sunset and looking solemnly up he +said, aloud: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, God, I love her!” +</p> + +<p> +He stood facing the thought with solemn joy and pain for an instant, then +turned and fled from it down the purpling sands; fleeing, yet carrying his +secret with him. +</p> + +<p> +And when he came opposite the little village he trod its shabby, straggling, +ill-paved streets with glory in his face; and walking thus with hat in hand, +and face illumined toward the setting sun, folks looked at him strangely and +wondered who and what he was, and turned to look again. In that half-light of +sunset, he seemed a being from another world. +</p> + +<p> +A native watching, dropped his whip, and climbing down from his rough wagon +spoke the thought that all the bystanders felt in common: +</p> + +<p> +“Gosh hang it! I thought he was one o’ them glass angels stepped +out of a church winder over to ’Lizabeth-town. We don’t see them +kind much. I wonder now how he’d be to live with. Think I’d feel +kinder creepy hevin’ him ’round all time, wouldn’t +you?” +</p> + +<p> +All the way home the new thought came surging over him, he loved her and she +could never be his. It was deluging; it was beautiful; but it was agonizing. He +recalled how beautiful she had been as she waved farewell. And some of her +smiles had been for him, he was sure. He had known of course that the kisses +were for her father, and yet, they had been blown freely his way, and she had +looked her pleasure at his presence. There had been a look in her eyes such as +she had worn that day in the college chapel when she had thrown precautions to +the winds and put her arms about his neck and kissed him. His young heart +thrilled with a deep joy over the memory of it. It had been wonderful that she +had done it; wonderful! when he was what he was, a <i>child of the slums</i>! +The words seemed burned upon his soul now, a part of his very life. He was not +worthy of her, not worthy to receive her favor. +</p> + +<p> +Yet he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the window frame as the train +hurried along through the gathering darkness, and saw again the bright lovely +face, the dainty fingers blowing kisses, the lips wreathed in smiles, and knew +some of the farewell had been surely meant for him. He forgot the beautiful +villas along the way, forgot to watch for the twinkling lights, or to care how +the cottages looked at evening. Whenever the track veered toward the sea and +gave a glimpse of gray sky and yawning ocean with here and there a point of +light to make the darkness blacker, he seemed to know instinctively, and +opening his eyes strained them to look across it. Out there in the blackness +somewhere was his Starr and he might not go to her, nor she come to him. There +was a wide stretch of unfathomable sea between them. There would always be that +gray, impassable sky and sea of impossibility between them. +</p> + +<p> +As he neared New York, however, these thoughts dropped from him; and standing +on the ferry-boat with the million twinkling lights of the city, and the +looming blackness of the huddled mass of towering buildings against the +illuminated sky, the call of the people came to him. Over there in the +darkness, swarming in the fetid atmosphere of a crowded court were thousands +like himself, yes, <i>like himself</i>, for he was one of them. He belonged +there. They were his kind and he must help them! +</p> + +<p> +Then his mind went to the farm and his plans, and he entered back into the +grind of life and assumed its burdens with the sweet pain of his secret locked +in his inmost heart. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap13"></a>Chapter XIII</h3> + +<p> +“Sam, have you ever been in the country?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Michael who asked the question. They were sitting in a small dismal room +that Michael had found he could afford to rent in a house on the edge of the +alley. Not that he had moved there, oh, no! He could not have endured life if +all of it that he could call his own had to be spent in that atmosphere. He +still kept his little fourth floor back in the dismally respectable street. He +had not gone to the place recommended by Endicott, because he found that the +difference he would have to pay would make it possible for him to rent this sad +little room near the alley; and for his purposes this seemed to him an absolute +necessity at present. +</p> + +<p> +The weather was growing too cold for him to meet with his new-old acquaintances +of the alley out of doors, and it was little better indoors even if he could +have endured the dirt and squalor of those apartments that would have been open +to him. Besides, he had a great longing to show them something brighter than +their own forlorn homes. +</p> + +<p> +There was a settlement house three or four blocks away, but it had not drawn +the dwellers in this particular alley. They were sunken too low, perhaps, or +there were so many more hopeful quarters in which to work; and the city was so +wide and deep and dark. Michael knew little about the settlement house. He had +read of such things. He had looked shyly toward its workers now and then, but +as yet knew none of them, though they had heard now and again of the +“Angel-man of the alley,” and were curious to find him out. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael’s enterprise was all his own, and his ways of working were +his own. He had gone back into the years of his childhood and found out from +his inner consciousness what it was he had needed, and now he was going to try +to give it to some other little “kids” who were as forlorn and +friendless as he had been. It wasn’t much that he could do, but what he +could he would do, and more as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +And so he had rented this speck of a room, and purified it. He had literally +compelled Sam to help him. That compelling was almost a modern miracle, and +wrought by radiant smiles, and a firm grip on Sam’s shoulder when he told +him what he wanted done. +</p> + +<p> +Together they had swept and scrubbed and literally scraped, the dirt from that +room. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see what you’re making sech a darned fuss about dirt +fer!” grumbled Sam as he arose from his knees after scrubbing the floor +for the fourth time. “It’s what we’re all made of, dey say, +an’ nobuddy’ll know de diffrunce.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just see if they won’t, Sam,” encouraged Michael as he +polished off the door he had been cleaning. “See there, how nice that +looks! You didn’t know that paint was gray, did you? It looked brown +before, it was so thick with dirt. Now we’re ready for paint and +paper!” +</p> + +<p> +And so, in an atmosphere of soap and water they had worked night after night +till very late; and Sam had actually let a well-planned and promising raid go +by because he was so interested in what he was doing and he was ashamed to tell +Michael of his engagement. +</p> + +<p> +Sam had never assisted at the papering of a room before; in fact, it is +doubtful if he ever saw a room with clean fresh paper on its walls in all his +life, unless in some house he had entered unlawfully. When this one stood +arrayed at last in its delicate newness, he stood back and surveyed it in awed +silence. +</p> + +<p> +Michael had chosen paper of the color of the sunshine, for the court was dark +and the alley was dark and the room was dark. The souls of the people too were +dark. They must have light and brightness if he would win them to better +things. Besides, the paper was only five cents a roll, the cheapest he could +find in the city. Michael had learned at college during vacations how to put it +on. He made Sam wash and wash and wash his hands before he was allowed to +handle any of the delicate paper. +</p> + +<p> +“De paper’ll jest git dirty right away,” grumbled Sam +sullenly, albeit he washed his hands, and his eyes glowed as they used to when +a child at a rare “find” in the gutter. +</p> + +<p> +“Wot’ll you do when it gits dirty?” demanded Sam +belligerently. +</p> + +<p> +“Put on some clean,” said Michael sunnily. “Besides, we must +learn to have clean hands and keep it clean.” +</p> + +<p> +“I wish we had some curtains,” said Michael wistfully. “They +had thin white curtains at college.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you makin’ a college fer we?” asked Sam looking at him +sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, in a way, perhaps,” said Michael smiling. “You know I +want you to have all the advantages I had as far as I can get them.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam only whistled and looked perplexed but he was doing more serious thinking +than he had ever done in his life before. +</p> + +<p> +And so the two had worked, and planned, and now tonight, the work was about +finished. +</p> + +<p> +The walls reflected the yellow of the sunshine, the woodwork was painted white +enamel. Michael had, just put on the last gleaming coat. +</p> + +<p> +“We can give it another coat when it looks a little soiled,” he had +remarked to Sam, and Sam, frowning, had replied: “Dey better hev dere +han’s clean.” +</p> + +<p> +The floor was painted gray. There was no rug. Michael felt its lack and meant +to remedy it as soon as possible, but rugs cost money. There was a small coal +stove set up and polished till it shone, and a fire was laid ready to start. +They had not needed it while they were working hard. The furniture was a +wooden table painted gray with a cover of bright cretonne, two wooden chairs, +and three boxes. Michael had collected these furnishings carefully and +economically, for he had to sacrifice many little comforts that he might get +them. +</p> + +<p> +On the walls were two or three good pictures fastened by brass tacks; and some +of the gray moss and pine branches from Michael’s own room. In the +central wall appeared one of Michael’s beloved college pennants. It was +understood by all who had yet entered the sacred precincts of the room to be +the symbol of what made the difference between them and “the +angel,” and they looked at it with awe, and mentally crossed themselves +in its presence. +</p> + +<p> +At the windows were two lengths of snowy cheese-cloth crudely hemmed by +Michael, and tacked up in pleats with brass-headed tacks. They were tied back +with narrow yellow ribbons. This had been the last touch and Sam sat looking +thoughtfully at the stiff angular bows when Michael asked the question: +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been in the country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam scornfully. “Went wid de Fresh Air folks wen +I were a kid.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you think of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t tink much!” shrugged Sam. “Too empty. +Nothin’ doin’! Good ’nough fer kids. Never again fer +<i>me</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +It was three months since Michael had made his memorable first visit down to +Old Orchard Farm. For weeks he had worked shoulder to shoulder every evening +with Sam and as yet no word of that plan which was nearest his heart had been +spoken. This was his first attempt to open the subject. +</p> + +<p> +That Sam had come to have a certain kind of respect and fondness for him he was +sure, though it was never expressed in words. Always he either objected to any +plan Michael suggested, or else he was extremely indifferent and would not +promise to be on hand. He was almost always there, however, and Michael had +come to know that Sam was proud of his friendship, and at least to a degree +interested in his plans for the betterment of the court. +</p> + +<p> +“There are things in the country; other things, that make up for the stir +of the city,” said Michael thoughtfully. This was the first unpractical +conversation he had tried to hold with Sam. He had been leading him up, through +the various stages from dirt and degradation, by means of soap and water, then +paper and paint, and now they had reached the doorway of Nature’s school. +Michael wanted to introduce Sam to the great world of out-of-doors. For, though +Sam had lived all his life out-of-doors, it had been a world of brick walls and +stone pavements, with little sky and almost no water. Not a green thing in +sight, not a bird, nor a beast except of burden. The first lesson was waiting +in a paper bundle that stood under the table. Would Sam take it, Michael +wondered, as he rose and brought it out unwrapping the papers carefully, while +Sam silently watched and pretended to whistle, not to show too much curiosity. +“What tings?” at last asked Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Things like this,” answered Michael eagerly setting out on the +table an earthen pot containing a scarlet geranium in bloom. It glowed forth +its brilliant torch at once and gave just the touch to the little empty clean +room that Michael had hoped it would do. He stood back and looked at it +proudly, and then looked at Sam to see if the lesson had been understood. He +half expected to see an expression of scorn on the hardened sallow face of the +slum boy, but instead Sam was gazing open-mouthed, with unmitigated admiration. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! Dat’s all right!” he ejaculated. “Where’d +you make de raise? Say! Dat makes de paper an’ de paint show up +fine!” taking in the general effect of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Then he arose from the box on which he had been sitting and went and stood +before the blossom. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! I wisht Jim eud see dat dere!” he ejaculated after a long +silence, and there was that in the expression of his face that brought the +quick moisture to Michael’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +It was only a common red geranium bought for fifteen cents, but it had touched +with its miracle of bright life the hardened soul of the young burglar, and +opened his vision to higher things than he had known. It was in this moment of +open vision that his heart turned to his old companion who was uncomplainingly +taking the punishment which rightfully belonged to the whole gang. +</p> + +<p> +“We will take him one tomorrow,” said Michael in a low voice husky +with feeling. It was the first time Sam had voluntarily mentioned Jim and he +had seemed so loth to take Michael to see him in jail that Michael had ceased +to speak of the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s another one just like this where I bought this one. I +couldn’t tell which to take, they were both so pretty. We’ll get it +the first thing in the morning before anybody else snaps it up, and then, when +could we get in to see Jim? Would they let us in after my office hours or would +we have to wait till Sunday? You look after that will you? I might get off at +four o’clock if that’s not too late.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dey’ll let us in on Sunday ef <i>you</i> ask, I reckon,” +said Sam much moved. “But it’s awful dark in prison. It won’t +live, will it? Dere’s only one streak o’ sun shines in Jim’s +cell a few minutes every day.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I think it’ll live,” said Michael hastily, a strange +choking sensation in his throat at thought of his one-time companion shut into +a dark prison. Of course, he deserved to be there. He had broken the laws, but +then no one had ever made him understand how wrong it was. If some one had only +tried perhaps Jim would never have done the thing that put him in prison. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure it will live,” he said again cheerfully. +“I’ve heard that geraniums are very hardy. The man told me they +would live all winter in the cellar if you brought them up again in the +spring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Jim will be out again in de spring,” said Sam softly. It was the +first sign of anything like emotion in Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that good!” said Michael heartily. “I wonder +what we can do to make it pleasant for him when he comes back to the world. +We’ll bring him to this room, of course, but in the spring this will be +getting warm. And that makes me think of what I was talking about a minute ago. +There’s so much more in the country than in the city!” +</p> + +<p> +“More?” questioned Sam uncomprehendingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, things like this to look at. Growing things that you get to love +and understand. Wonderful things. There’s a river that sparkles and talks +as it runs. There are trees that laugh and whisper when the wind plays in their +branches. And there are wonderful birds, little live breaths of air with music +inside that make splendid friends when you’re lonely. I know, for I made +lots of bird-friends when I went away from you all to college. You know I was +pretty lonely at first.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked at him with quick, keen wonder, and a lighting of his face that made +him almost attractive and sent the cunning in his eyes slinking out of sight. +Had this fine great-hearted creature really missed his old friends when he went +away? Had he really need of them yet, with all his +education—and—difference? It was food for thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Then there’s the sky, so much of it,” went on Michael, +“and so wide and blue, and sometimes soft white clouds. They make you +feel rested when you look at them floating lazily through the blue, and never +seeming to be tired; not even when there’s a storm and they have to +hurry. And there’s the sunset. Sam, I don’t believe you ever saw +the sunset, not right anyway. You don’t have sunsets here in the city, it +just gets dark. You ought to see one I saw not long ago. I mean to take you +there some day and we’ll watch it together. I want to see if it will do +the same thing to you that it did to me.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked at him in awe, for he wore his exalted look, and when he spoke like +that Sam had a superstitious fear that perhaps after all he was as old Sal +said, more of angel than of man. +</p> + +<p> +“And then, there’s the earth, all covered with green, plenty of it +to lie in if you want to, and it smells so good; and there’s so much +air,—enough to breathe your lungs full, and with nothing disagreeable in +it, no ugly smells nor sounds. And there are growing things everywhere. Oh, +Sam! Wouldn’t you like to make things like this grow?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded and put forth his rough forefinger shamedly to touch the velvet of a +green leaf, as one unaccustomed might touch a baby’s cheek. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll go with me, Sam, to the country sometime, won’t you? +I’ve got a plan and I’ll need you to help me carry it out. Will you +go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam in quite a different voice from any reluctant +assent he had ever given before. “Sure, I’ll go!” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Sam,” said Michael more moved than he dared show, +“And now that’s settled I want to talk about this room. I’m +going to have five little kids here tomorrow early in the evening. I told them +I’d show them how to whittle boats and we’re going to sail them in +the scrub bucket. They’re about the age you and I were when I went away +to college. Perhaps I’ll teach them a letter or two of the alphabet if +they seem interested. They ought to know how to read, Sam.” +</p> + +<p> +“I never learned to read—” muttered Sam half belligerently. +“That so?” said Michael as if it were a matter of small moment. +“Well, what if you were to come in and help me with the boats. Then you +could pick it up when I teach them. You might want to use it some day. +It’s well to know how, and a man learns things quickly you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know’s I care ’bout it,” he said +indifferently, but Michael saw that he intended to come. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, after the kids have gone, I won’t keep them late you know, I +wonder if you’d like to bring some of the fellows in to see this?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael glanced around the room. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve some pictures of alligators I have a fancy they might like to +see. I’ll bring them down if you say so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam trying to hide his pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +“Then tomorrow morning I’m going to let that little woman that +lives in the cellar under Aunt Sally’s room, bring her sewing here and +work all day. She makes buttonholes in vests. It’s so dark in her room +she can’t see and she’s almost ruined her eyes working by candle +light.” +</p> + +<p> +“She’ll mess it all up!” grumbled Sam; “an’ she +might let other folks in an’ they’d pinch the picters an’ the +posy.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, she won’t do that. I’ve talked to her about it. The room +is to be hers for the day, and she’s to keep it looking just as nice as +it did when she found it. She’ll only bring her work over, and go home +for her dinner. She’s to keep the fire going so it will be warm at night, +and she’s to try it for a day and see how it goes. I think she’ll +keep her promise. We’ll try her anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam nodded as to a superior officer who nevertheless was awfully foolish. +</p> + +<p> +“Mebbe!” he said. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, do you think it would be nice to bring Aunt Sally over now a few +minutes?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Sam shortly, “she’s too dirty. She’d +put her fingers on de wall first thing—” +</p> + +<p> +“But Sam, I think she ought to come. And she ought to come first. +She’s the one that helped me find you—” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked sharply at Michael and wondered if he suspected how long that same +Aunt Sally had frustrated his efforts to find his friends. +</p> + +<p> +“We could tell her not to touch things, perhaps—” +</p> + +<p> +“Wal, you lemme tell her. Here! I’ll go fix her up an’ bring +her now.” And Sam hurried out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +Michael waited, and in a few minutes Sam returned with Aunt Sally. But it was a +transformed Aunt Sally. Her face had been painfully scrubbed in a circle out as +far as her ears, and her scraggy gray hair was twisted in a tight knot at the +back of her neck. Her hands were several shades cleaner than Michael had ever +seen them before, and her shoes were tied. She wore a small three-cornered +plaid shawl over her shoulders and entered cautiously as if half afraid to +come. Her hands were clasped high across her breast. She had evidently been +severely threatened against touching anything. +</p> + +<p> +“The saints be praised!” she ejaculated warmly after she had looked +around in silence for a moment “To think I should ivver see the loikes uv +this in de alley. It lukes loike a palace. Mikky, ye’re a Nangel, me +b’y! An’ a rale kurtin, to be shure! I ain’t seen a kurtin in +the alley since I cummed. An’ will ye luke at the purty posy a +blowin’ as foine as ye plaze! Me mither had the loike in her cottage +window when I was a leetle gal! Aw, me pure auld mither!” +</p> + +<p> +And suddenly to Michael’s amazement, and the disgust of Sam, old Sal sat +down on the one chair and wept aloud, with the tears streaming down her seamed +and sin-scarred face. +</p> + +<p> +Sam was for putting her out at once, but Michael soothed her with his cheery +voice, making her tell of her old home in Ireland, and the kind mother whom she +had loved, though it was long years since she had thought of her now. +</p> + +<p> +With rare skill he drew from her the picture of the little Irish cottage with +its thatched roof, its peat fire, and well-swept hearth; the table with the +white cloth, the cat in the rocking chair, the curtain starched stiffly at the +window, the bright posy on the deep window ledge; and, lastly, the little girl +with clean pinafore and curly hair who kissed her mother every morning and +trotted off to school. But that was before the father died, and the potatoes +failed. The school days were soon over, and the little girl with her mother +came to America. The mother died on the way over, and the child fell into evil +hands. That was the story, and as it was told Michael’s face grew tender +and wistful. Would that he knew even so much of his own history as that! +</p> + +<p> +But Sam stood by struck dumb and trying to fancy that this old woman had ever +been the bright rosy child she told about. Sam was passing through a sort of +mental and moral earthquake. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps some day we’ll find another little house in the country +where you can go and live,” said Michael, “but meantime, suppose +you go and see if you can’t make your room look like this one. You scrub +it all up and perhaps Sam and I will come over and put some pretty paper on the +walls for you. Would you like that? How about it, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Sam rather grudgingly. He hadn’t much faith in +Aunt Sally and didn’t see what Michael wanted with her anyway, but he was +loyal to Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Irish blessings mingled with tears and garnished with curses in the most +extraordinary way were showered upon Michael and at last when he could stand no +more, Sam said: +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, cut it out, Sal. You go home an’ scrub. Come on, now!” +and he bundled her off in a hurry. +</p> + +<p> +Late as it was, old Sal lit a fire, and by the light of a tallow candle got +down on her stiff old knees and began to scrub. It seemed nothing short of a +miracle that her room could ever look like that one she had just seen, but if +scrubbing could do anything toward it, scrub she would. It was ten years since +she had thought of scrubbing her room. She hadn’t seemed to care; but +tonight as she worked with her trembling old drink-shaken hands the memory of +her childhood’s home was before her vision, and she worked with all her +might. +</p> + +<p> +So the leaven of the little white room in the dark alley began to work. +“The Angel’s quarters” it was named, and to be called to go +within its charmed walls was an honor that all coveted as time went on. And +that was how Michael began the salvation of his native alley. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap14"></a>Chapter XIV</h3> + +<p> +Michael had been three months with the new law firm and was beginning to get +accustomed to the violent contrast between the day spent in the atmosphere of +low-voiced, quiet-stepping, earnest men who moved about in their environment of +polished floors, oriental rugs, leather chairs and walls lined with +leather-covered law books; and the evening down in the alley where his bare, +little, white and gold room made the only tolerable spot in the neighborhood. +</p> + +<p> +He was still occupying the fourth floor back at his original boarding house, +and had seen Mr. Endicott briefly three or four times, but nothing had been +said about his lodgings. +</p> + +<p> +One morning he came to the desk set apart for him in the law office, and found +a letter lying there for him. +</p> + +<p> +“Son:” it said, “your board is paid at the address given +below, up to the day you are twenty-one. If you don’t get the benefit it +will go to waste. Mrs. Semple will make you quite comfortable and I desire you +to move to her house at once. If you feel any obligation toward me this is the +way to discharge it. Hope you are well, Yours, Delevan Endicott.’” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s heart beat faster with varied emotions. It was pleasant to have +some one care, and of course if Mr. Endicott wished it so much he would manage +it somehow—perhaps he could get some night work or copying to +do—but he would never let him bear his expenses. That could not be. +</p> + +<p> +He hurried off at the noon hour to find his benefactor and make this plain with +due gratitude. He found, however, that it was not so easy to change this +man’s mind, once made up. Endicott would not hear to any change in +arrangements. He had paid the board for the remaining months of Michael’s +minority and maintained his right to do so if he chose. Neither would he let +Michael refund him any of the amount. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael moved, bag and baggage, and found the change good. The regular, +well-cooked meals gave zest to his appetite which had been going back on him +for sometime under his own economical regime, and the larger room with better +outlook and more air, to say nothing of a comfortable bed with adjoining +bath-room, and plenty of heat and light, made life seem more worth while. +Besides there were other boarders with whom he now came in pleasant contact, +and there was a large pleasant parlor with easy chairs and an old-fashioned +square piano which still retained much of its original sweetness of tone. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Semple had a daughter Hester, an earnest, gray-eyed girl with soft brown +hair and a firm little chin, who had taken an art course in Cooper Institute +and painted very good pictures which, however, did not sell. Hester played the +piano—not very well, it is true, but well enough to make it pleasant to a +lonely boy who had known no music in his life except the birds or his own +whistle. She played hymns on Sunday after church while they waited for the +dinner to be ready; and evenings after supper she played other things: old +ballads and tender, touching melodies from old masters simplified, for such as +she. Michael sometimes lingered a half hour before hurrying away to the alley, +and joined his rich natural tenor with her light pretty soprano. Sometimes Will +French, a young fellow who was in the same law office and also boarded at Mrs. +Semple’s, stayed awhile and sang bass. It was very pleasant and made it +seem more as if he were living in a home. +</p> + +<p> +All this time Michael was carrying on his quiet work in the alley, saying +nothing about it to anybody. In the first place he felt shy about it because of +his personal connection with the place. Not that he wished to hide his origin +from his employers, but he felt he owed it to Mr. Endicott who had recommended +him, to be as respectable in their sight as possible; and so long as they +neither knew nor cared it did not matter. Then, it never occurred to Michael +that he was doing anything remarkable with his little white room in the +blackness of the stronghold of sin. Night after night he gathered his newsboys +and taught them whittling, basketry, reading, arithmetic and geography, with a +little philosophy and botany thrown in unawares. Night after night the older +fellows dropped in, one or two at a time, and listened to the stories Michael +told; sometimes of college life and games in which they were of course +interested; sometimes of Nature and his experiences in finding an alligator, or +a serpent, or watching some bird. It was wonderful how interesting he managed +to make those talks. He never realized that he was preparing in the school of +experience to be a magnificent public speaker. With an audience as difficult as +any he could have found in the whole wide city, he managed to hold them every +time. +</p> + +<p> +And the favorite theme often was agriculture. He would begin by bringing a new +little plant to the room, setting it up and showing it to them; talking about +conditions of soil and how plants were being improved. It was usually the +<i>résumé</i> of some article on agriculture that he had taken time to read at +noon and was reviewing for their benefit. +</p> + +<p> +They heard all about Burbank and his wonderful experiments in making plants +grow and develop, and as they listened they went and stood around the blossom +that Michael had just brought to them and looked with new wonder at it. A +flower was a strange enough sight in that court, but when they heard these +stories it became filled with new interest. For a little while they forgot +their evil plotting and were lifted above themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Another night the talk would be on fertilizers, and how one crop would +sometimes give out something that another crop planted later, needed. Little by +little, because he talked about the things in which he himself was interested, +he was giving these sons of ignorance a dim knowledge of and interest in the +culture of life, and the tilling of the ground; getting them ready for what he +had hardly as yet dared to put into words even to himself. +</p> + +<p> +And one day he took Sam down to Old Orchard. It was the week before Christmas. +They had made their second visit to Jim the week before and he had spoken of +the spring and when he should get out into the world again. He seemed to be +planning to get even with those who had confined him for his wrongdoing. +Michael’s heart was filled with anxiety for him. +</p> + +<p> +There was something about Jim that appealed to Michael from the first. +</p> + +<p> +He had seen him first standing behind the grating of his cell, a great unkempt +hulk of a fellow with fiery red hair and brown eyes that roved restlessly, +hungrily through the corridor. He would have been handsome but for his weak, +girlish chin. Jim had melted almost to tears at sight of the scarlet geranium +they had carried him on that first visit, and seemed to care more for the +appearance of his old comrade “Mikky” than ever Sam had cared. +</p> + +<p> +Jim was to get out in April. If only there were some place for him to go! +</p> + +<p> +They talked of it on the way down, Sam seemed to think that Jim would find it +pretty hard to leave New York. Sam himself wasn’t much interested in the +continued, hints of Michael about going to the country. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothin’ doin’” was his constant refrain when Michael +tried to tell him how much better it would be if some of the congested part of +the city could be spread out into the wide country: especially for the poor +people, how much greater opportunity for success in life there would be for +them. +</p> + +<p> +But Sam had been duly impressed with the wideness of the landscape, on this his +first long trip out of the city, and as Michael unfolded to him the story of +the gift of the farm, and his own hopes for it, Sam left off his scorn and +began to give replies that showed he really was thinking about the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“Say!” said he suddenly, “ef Buck was to come back would you +let him live down to your place an’ help do all them things you’re +plannin’?” +</p> + +<p> +“I surely would,” said Michael happily. “Say, Sam, do you, or +do you <i>not</i> know where Buck is?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam sat thoughtfully looking out of the window. At this point he turned his +gaze down to his feet and slowly, cautiously nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I thought so!” said Michael eagerly. “Sam, is he in hiding +for something he has done?” +</p> + +<p> +Still more slowly, cautiously, Sam nodded his head once more. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, will you send him a message from me?” +</p> + +<p> +Another nod. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell him that I love him,” Michael breathed the words eagerly. His +heart remembered kindness from Buck more than any other lighting of his sad +childhood. “Tell him that I want him—that I need him! Tell him that +I want him to make an appointment to meet me somewhere and let us talk this +plan of mine over. I want him to go in with me and help me make that farm into +a fit place to take people who haven’t the right kind of homes, where +they can have honest work and good air and be happy! Will you tell him?” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam nodded his head emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“An’ Jim’ll help too ef Buck goes. That’s dead +sure!” Sam volunteered. +</p> + +<p> +“And Sam, I’m counting on you!” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing!” said Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Michael tramped all over the place with Sam, showing him everything and telling +all his plans. He was very familiar with his land now. He had planned the bog +for a cranberry patch, and had already negotiated for the bushes. He had +trimmed up the berry bushes in the garden himself during his various holiday +trips, and had arranged with a fisherman to dump a few haulings of shellfish on +one field where he thought that kind of fertilizer would be effective. He had +determined to use his hundred-dollar graduation present in fertilizer and seed. +It would not go far but it would be a beginning. The work he would have to get +some other way. He would have but little time to put to it himself until late +in the summer probably, and there was a great deal that ought to be done in the +early spring. He would have to be contented to go slow of course, and must +remember that unskilled labor is always expensive and wasteful; still it would +likely be all he could get. Just how he would feed and house even unskilled +labor was a problem yet to be solved. +</p> + +<p> +It was a day of many revelations to Sam. For one thing even the bare snowy +stretch, of wide country had taken on a new interest to him since Michael had +been telling all these wonderful things about the earth. Sam’s dull brain +which up to this time had never busied itself about anything except how to get +other men’s goods away from them, had suddenly awakened to the wonders of +the world. +</p> + +<p> +It was he that recognized a little colony of cocoons on the underside of leaves +and twigs and called attention to them. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, ain’t dem some o’ de critters you was showin’ de +fellers t’other night?” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael fell upon them eagerly. They happened to be rare specimens, and he +knew from college experience that such could be sold to advantage to the +museums. He showed Sam how to remove them without injuring them. A little +further on they came to a wild growth of holly, crazy with berries and +burnished thorny foliage, and near at hand a mistletoe bough loaded with tiny +white transparent berries. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t dem wot dey sell fer Chris’sum greens?” +Sam’s city eyes picked them out at once. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course,” said Michael delighted. “How stupid of me not to +have found them before. We’ll take a lot back with us and see if we can +get any price for it. Whatever we get we’ll devote to making the house +liveable. Holly and mistletoe ought to have a good market about now. +That’s another idea! Why not cultivate a lot of this stuff right in this +tract of land. It seems to grow without any trouble. See! There are lots of +little bushes. We’ll encourage them, Sam. And say, Sam, if you +hadn’t come along I might never have thought of that. You see I needed +you.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam grunted in a pleased way. +</p> + +<p> +When they came to the house it looked to Michael still more desolate in the +snowy stretch of setting than it had when the grass was about it. His heart +sank. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know as we can ever do anything with the old shack,” +he said, shaking his head wistfully. “It looks worse than I +thought.” +</p> + +<p> +“’Tain’t so bad,” said Sam cheerfully. “Guess +it’s watertight.” He placed a speculative eye at the dusty window +pane he had wiped off with his coat sleeve. “Looks dry inside. +’Twould be a heap better’n sleepin’ on de pavement fer some. +Dat dere fire hole would take in a big lot o’ wood an’ I guess +dere’s a plenty round de place without robbin’ de woods +none.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael led him to the seashore and bade him look. He wanted to see what effect +it would have upon him. The coast swept wild and bleak in the cold December +day, and Sam shivered in his thin garments. A look of awe and fear came into +his face. He turned his back upon it. +</p> + +<p> +“Too big!” he said sullenly, and Michael understood that the sea in +its vastness oppressed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, there’s a good deal of it,” he admitted, “but +after all it’s sort of like the geranium flower.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam turned back and looked. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I don’t see nothin’ like!” he grunted +despairingly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, it’s wonderful! Its beyond us! We couldn’t make it. +Look at that motion! See the white tossing rim of the waves! See that soft +green gray! Isn’t it just the color of the little down on the geranium +leaf? See the silver light playing back and forth, and look how it reaches as +far as you can see. Now, doesn’t it make you feel a little as it did when +you first looked at the geranium?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at Sam from his greater height almost wistfully. He wanted +him to understand, but Sam looked in vain. +</p> + +<p> +“Not fer mine!” he shrugged. “Gimme the posy every +time.” +</p> + +<p> +They walked in silence along the beach toward the flowing of the river, and Sam +eyed the ocean furtively as if he feared it might run up and engulf them +suddenly when they were not looking. He had seen the ocean from wharfs of +course; and once stole a ride in a pilot boat out into the deep a little way; +but he had never been alone thus with the whole sea at once as this seemed. It +was too vast for him to comprehend. Still, in a misty way he knew what Michael +was trying to make him understand, and it stirred him uncomfortably. +</p> + +<p> +They hired a little boat for a trifle and Michael with strong strokes rowed +them back to the farm, straight into the sunset. The sky was purple and gold +that night, and empurpled the golden river, whose ripples blended into pink and +lavender and green. Sam sat huddled in the prow of the boat facing it all. +Michael had planned it so. The oars dipped very quietly, and Sam’s small +eyes changed and widened and took it all in. The sun slipped lower in a crimson +ball, and a flood of crimson light broke through the purple and gold for a +moment and left a thin, clear line of flame behind. +</p> + +<p> +“Dere!” exclaimed Sam pointing excitedly. “Dat’s like +de posy. I kin see <i>thet</i> all right!” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael rested on his oars and looked back at the sunset, well pleased with +this day’s work. +</p> + +<p> +They left the boat at a little landing where its owner had promised to get it, +and went back through the wood, gathering a quantity of holly branches and +mistletoe; and when they reached the city Michael found a good market for it, +and received enough for what he had brought to more than cover the price of the +trip. The best of it was that Sam was as pleased with the bargain as if it were +for his personal benefit. +</p> + +<p> +When they parted Sam wore a sprig of mistletoe in his ragged buttonhole, and +Michael carried several handsome branches of holly back to his boarding place. +</p> + +<p> +Most of this he gave to Hester Semple to decorate the parlor with, but one fine +branch he kept and carried to his room and fastened it over his mirror. Then +after looking at it wistfully for a long time he selected a glossy spray +containing several fine large berries, cut it off and packed it carefully in a +tiny box. This without name or clue to sender, he addressed in printing letters +to Starr. Mr. Endicott had asked him to mail a letter to her as he passed by +the box the last time he had been in the office, and without his intention the +address had been burned into his memory. He had not expected to use it ever, +but there could be no harm surely in sending the girl this bit of Christmas +greeting out of the nowhere of a world of possible people. She would never know +he had sent it, and perhaps it would please her to get a piece of Christmas +holly from home. She might think her father had sent it. It mattered not, he +knew, and it helped him to think he might send this much of his thoughts over +the water to her. He pleased himself with thinking how she would look when she +opened the box. But whether she would be pleased or not he must only surmise, +for she would never know to thank him. Ah, well, it was as near as he dared +hope for touching life’s happiness. He must be glad for what he might +have, and try to work and forget the rest. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap15"></a>Chapter XV</h3> + +<p> +Now about this time the law firm with whom Michael worked became deeply +interested in their new “boy.” He studied hard, and seemed to know +what he was about all day. They saw signs of extraordinary talent in him. Once +or twice, thinking to make life pleasant for him, they had invited him to their +club, or to some evening’s entertainment, and always Michael had +courteously declined, saying that he had an engagement for the evening. They +casually questioned Will French, the other student, who was a happy-go-lucky; +in the office because his father wished him to study something and not because +he wanted to. Will said that Michael went out every evening and came in late. +Mrs. Semple had remarked that she often didn’t know whether he came in at +all until she saw him come down to breakfast. +</p> + +<p> +This report and a certain look of weariness about the eyes some mornings led +the senior member of the firm to look into Michael’s affairs. The natural +inference was that Michael was getting into social life too deeply, perhaps +wasting the hours in late revelry when he should have been sleeping. Mr. Holt +liked Michael, and dreaded to see the signs of dissipation appear on that fine +face. He asked Will French to make friends with him and find out if he could +where he spent his evenings. Will readily agreed, and at once entered on his +mission with a zeal which was beyond all baffling. +</p> + +<p> +“Hello, Endicott!” called Will as Michael reached the front door on +his way to his mission that same evening. “Where’re you going? +Wait, can’t you, and I’ll walk along with you? I was going to ask +you if you wouldn’t go to a show with me this evening. I haven’t +anything on for tonight and it’s slow.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke he seized his coat and hat which he had purposely left in the hall +near at hand, and put them on. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you,” said Michael, as they went out together, +“I’d be glad to go with you but I have something that can’t +be put off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, go tomorrow night with me, will you? I like you and I think we +ought to be friends.” +</p> + +<p> +Will’s idea was that they would get to talking at a “show” +and he could find out a good deal in that way. He thought it must be a girl. He +had told the senior Holt that it was a girl of course and he wouldn’t +take long to spot her. It must be either a girl or revelry to take the fellow +out every night in the week so late. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m sorry,” said Michael again, “but I’m +afraid I have an engagement every night. It’s rather a permanent job +I’m engaged in. What do you do with your evenings?” +</p> + +<p> +Will launched into a gay description of parties and entertainments to which he +had been bidden, and nice girls he knew, hinting that he might introduce +Michael if he was so inclined, and Michael talked on leading his unsuspecting +companion further and further from the subject of his own evenings. Finally +they came to a corner and Michael halted. +</p> + +<p> +“I turn here,” he said; “which way do you go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, I turn too,” laughed French. “That is, if you +don’t object. I’m out for a walk and I don’t care much what I +do. If I’m not welcome just tell me and I’ll clear out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you’re quite welcome,” said Michael; +“I’m glad to have company, but the quarter I’m walking to is +not a pleasant one for a walk, and indeed you mightn’t like to return +alone even so early in the evening if you walk far. I had an unpleasant +encounter myself once, but I know the ways of the place now and it’s +different.” +</p> + +<p> +Will eyed him curiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it allowable to ask where we’re going?” he asked in a +comical tone. +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. If you’re bound to go I’ll have to tell you all +about it, but I strongly advise you to turn back now, for it isn’t a very +savory neighborhood, and I don’t believe you’ll care for it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where thou goest I will go,” mocked Will. “My curiosity is +aroused. I shall certainly go. If it’s safe for you, it is for me. My +good looks are not nearly so valuable as yours, nor so noticeable. As I have no +valuables in the world, I can’t be knocked down for booty.” +</p> + +<p> +“You see they all know me,” explained Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, they do! And can’t you introduce me? Or don’t you like +to?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose I can,” laughed Michael, “if you really want me +to, but I’m afraid you’ll turn and run when you see them. You see +they’re not very—handsome. They’re not what you’re used +to. You wouldn’t want to know them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to,” said Michael desperately. “They needed something +and I had to help them!” +</p> + +<p> +Up to this point Will French had been sure that Michael had fallen into the +hands of a set of sharpers, but something in his companion’s tone made +him turn and look, and he saw Michael’s face uplifted in the light of the +street lamp, glowing with, a kind of intent earnestness that surprised and awed +him. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, man,” he said. “Tell me who they are, and what +you are doing, anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael told him in a few words, saying little about himself, or his reason for +being interested in the alley in the first place. There were a few neglected +newsboys, mere kids. He was trying to teach them a few things, reading and +figures and a little manual training. Something to make life more than a round +of suffering and sin. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it settlement work?” asked French. He was puzzled and +interested. +</p> + +<p> +“No,” explained Michael, “there’s a settlement, but +it’s too far away and got too big a district to reach this alley. +It’s just my own little work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who pays you for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who pays me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, who’s behind the enterprise? Who forks over the funds and +pays you for your job?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed long and loud. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now, I hadn’t thought about pay, but I guess the kiddies +themselves do. You can’t think how they enjoy it all.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” said French, “I think I’ll go along and +see how you do it. I won’t scare ’em out, will I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now I hadn’t thought of that,” said Michael. “In +fact, I didn’t suppose you’d care to go all the way, but if you +think you do, I guess it will be all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not a very warm welcome, I must say,” laughed Will, “but +I’m going just the same. You get me in and I’ll guarantee not to +scare the crowd. Have any time left over from your studies for amusement? If +you do I might come in on that. I can do tricks.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can you?” said Michael looking at his unbidden guest doubtfully. +“Well, we’ll see. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. +It’s very informal. Sometimes we don’t get beyond the first step in +a lesson. Sometimes I have to stop and tell stories.” +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” said Will. “I’d like to hear you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, you wouldn’t enjoy it, but there are a few books there. You +might read if you get tired looking around the room.” +</p> + +<p> +And so Michael and his guest entered the yellow and white room together. +Michael lit the gas, and Will looked about blinking in amazement. +</p> + +<p> +Coming through the alley to the room had taken away Will’s exclamatory +powers and exhausted his vocabulary. The room in its white simplicity, +immaculately kept, and constantly in touch with fresh paint to hide any stray +finger marks, stood out in startling contrast with the regions round about it. +Will took it all in, paint, paper, and pictures. The tiny stove glowing warmly, +the improvised seats, the blackboard in the corner, and the bits of life as +manifested in geranium, butterfly cocoons and bird’s nests; then he +looked at Michael, tall and fine and embarrassed, in the centre of it all. +</p> + +<p> +“Great Scott!” he exclaimed. “Is this an enchanted island, or +am I in my right mind?” +</p> + +<p> +But before he could be answered there came the sound of mattering young feet +and a tumult outside the door. Then eager, panting, but decorous, they entered, +some with clean faces, most of them with clean hands, or moderately so, all +with their caps off in homage to their Prince; and Michael welcomed them as if +he stood in a luxurious drawing room on Fifth Avenue and these were his guests. +</p> + +<p> +He introduced them, and Will entered into the spirit of the affair and greeted +them chummily. They stood shyly off from him at first with great eyes of +suspicion, huddled together in a group near Michael, but later when the lesson +on the blackboard was over and Michael was showing a set of pictures, Will sat +down in a corner with a string from his pocket and began showing two of the +boldest of the group some tricks. This took at once, and when he added a little +sleight-of-hand pulling pennies from the hair and pockets and hands of the +astonished youngsters and allowing them to keep them after the game was over, +they were ready to take him into their inner circle at once. +</p> + +<p> +When, however, Sam, who was most unaccountably late that night, sidled in +alone, he looked at the stranger with eyes of belligerence; and when Michael +introduced him as his friend, Sam’s eyes glinted with a jealous light. +Sam did not like Michael to have any friends of that sort. This new man had +shiny boots, fine new clothes, wore his hair nicely brushed, and manipulated a +smooth handkerchief with fingers as white as any gentleman. To be sure Michael +was like that, but then Michael was Michael. He belonged to them, and his +clothes made him no worse. But who was this intruder? A gentleman? All +gentlemen were natural enemies to Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Come outside,” said Sam to Michael gruffly, ignoring the white +hand Will held out cordially. Michael saw there was something on his mind. +</p> + +<p> +“Will, can you amuse these kids a minute or two while I step out? +I’ll not be long.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Will heartily. He hadn’t had such a good time in +months and what a story he would have to tell the senior partner in the +morning. +</p> + +<p> +“Ever try to lift a fellow’s hand off the top of his head? Here, +you kid, sit in that chair and put your right hand flat on the top of your +head. Now, sonnie, you lift it off. Pull with all your might. That’s +it—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes shone, and even Sam grinned surreptitiously. +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll do,” he said to Sam as they went out. “He was +lonesome this evening and wanted to come along with me.” +</p> + +<p> +Lonesome! A fellow like that! It gave Sam a new idea to think about. Did people +who had money and education and were used to living in clothes like that get +lonesome? Sam cast a kindlier eye back at Will as he closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +Alone in the dark cold entry where the wind whistled up from the river and +every crack seemed a conductor of a blast, Sam and Michael talked in low tones: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, he’s lit out!” Sam’s tone conveyed dismay as well +as apology. +</p> + +<p> +It was a sign of Michael’s real eagerness that he knew at once who was +meant. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam grunted assent. +</p> + +<p> +“When?” +</p> + +<p> +“Day er so ago, I tuk yer word to ’im but he’d gone. +Lef’ word he had a big deal on, an’ ef it came troo all right +’e’d send fer us. You see it wan’t safe round here no more. +The police was onto his game. Thur wan’t no more hidin’ fer him. He +was powerful sorry not to see you. He’d always thought a heap o’ +Mikky!” +</p> + +<p> +“How long had he known I was here?” Michael’s face was grave +in the darkness. Why had Buck not sent him some word? Made some appointment? +</p> + +<p> +“Since you first cum back.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why—oh, Sam, why didn’t he let me come and see him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It warn’t safe,” said Sam earnestly. “Sure thing, it +warn’t! ’Sides—” +</p> + +<p> +“Besides what, Sam?” The question was eager. +</p> + +<p> +“’Sides, he knowed you’d had edicashun, an’ he knowed +how you looked on his way o’ livin’. He didn’t know +but—” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean he didn’t trust me, Sam?” Sam felt the keen eyes +upon him even hi the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“Naw, he didn’t tink you’d snitch on him ner nothin’, +but he didn’t know but you might tink you had to do some tings what might +kick it all up wid him. You’d b’en out o’ tings fer years, +an’ you didn’t know de ways o’ de city. ’Sides, he +ain’t seed you like I done—” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” said Michael, “I understand. It’s a long time +and of course he only knows what you have told him, and if there was +danger,—but oh, Sam, I wish he could go down to Old Orchard. Did you ever +tell him about it, and about my plans?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure ting I did. Tole ’im all you tole me. He said ’twar all +right. Ef he comes out on dis deal he’ll be back in a while, an’ +he’ll go down dere ef you want him. He said he’d bring a little wad +back to make things go ef dis deal went troo.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know what the deal is, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it dis—is it”—he paused for a word that would +convey his meaning and yet not offend—“is it—dangerous, +Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” admitted Sam solemnly as though it hurt him to pain his +friend. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mean it will make more hiding for him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” emphatically grave. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish he hadn’t gone!” There was sharp pain in +Michael’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“I wisht so too!’” said Sam with a queer little choke to his +voice, “Mebbe ’twon’t come off after all. Mebbe it’ll +git blocked. Mebbe he’ll come back.” +</p> + +<p> +The anxiety in Sam’s tone touched Michael, but another thought had struck +him hard. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam,” said he plucking at the others sleeve in the darkness, +“Sam, tell me, what was Buck doing—before he went away. Was it all +straight? Was he in the same business with you?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam breathed heavily but did not answer. At last with difficulty he answered a +gruff, “Nope!” +</p> + +<p> +“What was it, Sam? Won’t you tell me?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would be snitchin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not to me, Sam. You know I belong to you all.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you’ve got new notions.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” admitted Michael, “I can’t help that, but I +don’t go back on you, do I?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, you don’t go back on we’uns, that’s so. But you +don’t like we’s doin’s.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind. Tell me, Sam. I think I must know.” +</p> + +<p> +“He kep a gamein’ den—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Sam!” Michael’s voice was stricken, and his great +athletic hand gripped Sam’s hard skinny one, and Sam in the darkness +gripped back. +</p> + +<p> +“I knowed you’d feel thet way,” he mourned as if the fault +were all in his telling. “I wisht I hadn’t ’a tole +yer.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Sam, you couldn’t help it, and I suppose I +wouldn’t have known the difference myself if I hadn’t gone away. We +mustn’t judge Buck harshly. He’ll see it the other way by and +by.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam straightened perceptibly. There was something in this speech that put him +in the same class with Michael. He had never before had any qualms of +conscience concerning gambling, but now he found himself almost unawares +arrayed against it. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess mebbe!” he said comfortingly, and then seeking to change +the subject. “Say, is dat guy in dere goin’ along to de +farm?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, dat ike you lef’ in de room. Is he goin’ down +’long when wees go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Will French! No, Sam. He doesn’t know anything about it yet. I +may tell him sometime, but he doesn’t need that. He is studying to be a +lawyer. Perhaps some day if he gets interested he’ll help do what I want +for the alley, and all the other alleys in the city; make better laws and see +that they’re enforced.” +</p> + +<p> +“Laws!” said Sam in a startled voice. “What laws!” +</p> + +<p> +Laws were his natural enemies he thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Laws for better tenement houses, more room and more windows, better air, +cleaner streets, room for grass and flowers, pure milk and meat, and less +crowding and dirt. Understand?” +</p> + +<p> +It was the first time Michael had gone so deep into his plans with Sam, and he +longed now to have his comradeship in this hope too. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sure!” said Sam much relieved that Michael had not mentioned +laws about gambling dens and pickpockets. Sam might be willing to reform his +own course in the brilliant wake of Michael but as yet he had not reached the +point where he cared to see vice and dishonesty swept off the globe. +</p> + +<p> +They went slowly back to the white room to find Will French leading a chorus of +small urchins in the latest popular melody while they kept time with an awkward +shuffle of their ill-shod feet. +</p> + +<p> +Sam growled: “Cut it out, kids, you scratch de floor,” and Will +French subsided with apologies. +</p> + +<p> +“I never thought of the floor, Endicott. Say, you ought to have a +gymnasium and a swimming pool here.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael laughed. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish we had,” he declared, “but I’d begin on a +bath-room. We need that first of all.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let’s get one,” said Will eagerly. “That +wouldn’t cost so much. We could get some people to contribute a little. I +know a man that has a big plumbing establishment. He’d do a little +something. I mean to tell him about it. Is there any place it could be +put?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam followed them wondering, listening, interested, as they went out into the +hall to see the little dark hole which might with ingenuity be converted into a +bath-room, and while he leaned back against the door-jamb, hands in his +pockets, he studied the face of the newcomer. +</p> + +<p> +“Guess dat guy’s all right,” he reassured Michael as he +helped him turn the lights out a little later, while Will waited on the +doorstep whistling a new tune to his admiring following. Will had caught +“de kids.” +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Endicott,” he said as they walked up the noisy midnight +street and turned into the avenue, “why don’t you get Hester to go +down there and sing sometime? Sunday afternoon. She’d go. Ask her.” +</p> + +<p> +And that night was the beginning of outside help for Michael’s mission. +</p> + +<p> +Hester fell into the habit of going down Sunday afternoons, and soon she had an +eager following of sad-eyed women, and eager little children; and Will French +spent his leisure hours in hunting up tricks and games and puzzles, for +“the kids.” +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, the account he had given to Holt and Holt of the way Michael spent +his evenings, was not without fruit. +</p> + +<p> +About a week after French’s first visit to the alley, the senior Mr. Holt +paused beside Michael’s desk one afternoon just before going out of the +office and laid a bit of paper in his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“French tells me you’re interested in work in the slums,” he +said in the same tone he used to give Michael an order for his daily routine. +“I’d like to help a little if you can use that.” He passed on +out of the office before Michael had fully comprehended what had been said. The +young man looked down at the paper and saw it was a check made out to himself +for one hundred dollars! +</p> + +<p> +With a quick exclamation of gratitude he was on his feet and out into the hall +after his employer. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, Endicott. I don’t get as much time as +I’d like to look after the charities, and when I see a good thing I like +to give it a boost. Call on me if you need money for any special scheme. And +I’ll mention it to some of my clients occasionally,” said the old +lawyer, well pleased with Michael’s gratitude. +</p> + +<p> +He did, and right royally did the clients respond. Every little while a +ten-dollar bill or a five, and now and then a check for fifty would find its +way to Michael’s desk; for Will French, thoroughly interested, kept Holt +and Holt well supplied with information concerning what was needed. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap16"></a>Chapter XVI</h3> + +<p> +Before the winter was over Michael was able to put in the bath-room and had +bought a plow and a number of necessary farm implements, and secured the +services of a man who lived near Old Orchard to do some early plowing and +planting. He was able also to buy seeds and fertilizer, enough at least to +start his experiment; and toward spring, he took advantage of a holiday, and +with Sam and a carpenter went down to the farm and patched up the old house to +keep out the rain. +</p> + +<p> +After that a few cots, some boxes for chairs and tables, some cheap +comfortables for cool nights, some dishes and cooking utensils from the +ten-cent store, and the place would be ready for his alley-colony when he +should dare to bring them down. A canvas cot and a wadded comfortable would be +luxury to any of them. The only question was, would they be contented out of +the city? +</p> + +<p> +Michael had read many articles about the feasibility of taking the poor of the +cities into the country, and he knew that experience had shown they were in +most cases miserable to get back again. He believed in his heart that this +might be different if the conditions were made right. In the first place they +must have an environment full of new interest to supply the place of the +city’s rush, and then they must have some great object which they would +be eager to attain. He felt, too, that they should be prepared beforehand for +their new life. +</p> + +<p> +To this end he had been for six months spending two or three hours a week with +five or six young fellows Sam had tolled in. He had brought the agricultural +papers to the room, and made much of the illustrations. The boys as a rule +could not read, so he read to them, or rather translated into their own +slang-ful English. He told them what wonders had been attained by farming in +the right way. As these fellows had little notion about farming in any way, or +little knowledge of farm products save as they came to them through the markets +in their very worst forms, it became necessary to bring cabbages and apples, +and various other fruits and vegetables for their inspection. +</p> + +<p> +One night he brought three or four gnarled, little green-skinned, sour, +speckled apples, poorly flavored. He called attention to them very carefully, +and then because an apple was a treat, however poor it might be, he asked them +to notice the flavor as they ate. Then he produced three or four magnificent +specimens of apple-hood, crimson and yellow, with polished skin and delicious +flavor, and set them in a row on the table beside some more of the little +specked apples. They looked like a sunset beside a ditch. The young men drew +around the beautiful apples admiringly, feeling of their shiny streaks as if +they half thought them painted, and listening to the story of their development +from the little sour ugly specimens they had just been eating. When it came to +the cutting up of the perfect apples every man of them took an intelligent +pleasure in the delicious fruit. +</p> + +<p> +Other nights, with the help of Will and Hester, Michael gave demonstrations of +potatoes, and other vegetables, with regular lessons on how to get the best +results with these particular products. Hester managed in some skilful manner +to serve a very tasty refreshment from roasted potatoes, cooked just right, at +the same time showing the difference in the quality between the soggy potatoes +full of dry rot, and those that were grown under the right conditions. +Occasionally a cup of coffee or some delicate sandwiches helped out on a +demonstration, of lettuce or celery or cold cabbage in the form of slaw, and +the light refreshments served with the agricultural lessons became a most +attractive feature of Michael’s evenings. More and more young fellows +dropped in to listen to the lesson and enjoy the plentiful “eats” +as they called them. When they reached the lessons on peas and beans the split +pea soup and good rich bean soup were ably appreciated. +</p> + +<p> +Not that all took the lessons with equal eagerness, but Michael began to feel +toward spring that his original five with Sam as their leader would do +comparatively intelligent work on the farm, the story of which had been +gradually told them from night to night, until they were quite eager to know if +they might be included in those who were to be pioneers in the work. +</p> + +<p> +Will French faithfully reported the condition of the work, and more and more +friends and clients of the office would stop at Michael’s desk and chat +with him for a moment about the work, and always leave something with him to +help it along. Michael’s eyes shone and his heart beat high with hopes in +these days. +</p> + +<p> +But there was still a further work for him to do before his crude apprentices +should be ready to be sent down into the wilds of nature. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael began one evening to tell them of the beauty and the wonder of the +world. One night he used a cocoon as illustration and for three evenings they +all came with bated breath and watched the strange little insignificant roll, +almost doubting Michael’s veracity, yet full of curiosity, until one +night it burst its bonds and floated up into the white ceiling, its pale green, +gorgeously marked wings working a spell upon their hearts, that no years could +ever make them quite forget. It was the miracle of life and they had never seen +it nor heard of it before. +</p> + +<p> +Another night he brought a singing bird in a cage, and pictures of other birds +who were naturally wild. He began to teach them the ways of the birds they +would see in New Jersey, how to tell their songs apart, where to look for their +nests; all the queer little wonderful things that a bird lover knows, and that +Michael because of his long habits of roaming about the woods knew by heart. +The little bird in its cage stayed in the yellow and white room, and strange to +say thrived, becoming a joy and a wonder to all visitors, and a marvel to those +who lived in the court because of its continuous volume of brilliant song, +bursting from a heart that seemed to be too full of happiness and must bubble +over into music. The “kids” and even the older fellows felt a +proprietorship in it, and liked to come and stand beneath the cage and call to +it as it answered “peep” and peeked between the gilded bars to +watch them. +</p> + +<p> +One night, with the help of Will French who had some wealthy friends, Michael +borrowed a large picture of a sunset, and spoke to them about the sunlight and +its effects on growing things, and the wonder of its departure for the night. +</p> + +<p> +By this time they would listen in awed silence to anything Michael said, though +the picture was perhaps one too many for most of them. Sam, however, heard with +approval, and afterwards went up reverently and laid his finger on the crimson +and the purple and the gold of the picture. Sam knew, and understood, for he +had seen the real thing. Then he turned to the others and said: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, fellers, it’s aw-right. You wait till yer see one. Fine ez +silk, an’ twicet as nateral.” +</p> + +<p> +One big dark fellow who had lately taken to coming to the gatherings, turned +scornfully away, and replied: “Aw shucks! I don’t see nodding in +it!” but loyalty to Michael prevented others who might have secretly +favored this view from expressing it, and the big dark fellow found himself in +the minority. +</p> + +<p> +And so the work went on. Spring was coming, and with it the end of Jim’s +“term,” and the beginning of Michael’s experiment on the +farm. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime Michael was working hard at his law, and studying half the night when +he came back from the alley work. If he had not had an iron constitution, and +thirteen years behind him of healthy out-door life, with plenty of sleep and +exercise and good food, he could not have stood it. As it was, the hard work +was good for him, for it kept him from brooding over himself, and his own +hopeless love of the little girl who was far across the water. +</p> + +<p> +Some weeks after Christmas there had come a brief note from Starr, his name +written in her hand, the address in her father’s. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Michael,<br> + I am just almost sure that I am indebted to you for the lovely little sprig +of holly that reached me on Christmas. I have tried and tried to think who the +sender might be, for you see I didn’t know the writing, or rather +printing. But today it fell down from over the picture where I had fastened, it +on the wall, and I noticed what I had not seen before, ‘A Happy +Christmas’ in the very tiny little letters of the message cut or +scratched on the under side of the stem; and the letters reminded me of you and +the charming little surprises you used to send me long ago from Florida when I +was a little girl. Then all at once I was sure it was you who sent the holly, +and I am sitting right down to write and thank you for it. You see I was very +lonesome and homesick that Christmas morning, for most of the girls in the +school had gone home for Christmas, and mamma, who had been intending to come +and take me away to Paris for the holidays, had written that she was not well +and couldn’t come after all, so I knew I would have to be here all +through the gay times by myself. I was feeling quite doleful even with the +presents that mamma sent me, until I opened the little box and saw the dear +little bright holly berries; that cheered me up and made me think of home. I +kept it on my desk all day so that the bright berries would make me feel +Christmassy, and just before dinner that night what do you think happened? Why, +my dear daddy came to surprise me, and we took the loveliest trip together, to +Venice and Florence and Rome. It was beautiful! I wish you could have been +along and seen everything. I know you would have enjoyed it. I must not take +the time to write about it because I ought to be studying. This is a very +pleasant place and a good school but I would rather be at home, and I shall be +glad when I am done and allowed to come back to my own country.<br> + Thanking you ever so much for the pretty little Christmas reminder, for you +see I am sure you sent it, and wishing you a belated Happy New Year, I am<br> + Your friend, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +STARR DELEVAN ENDICOTT. +</p> + +<p> +Michael read and re-read the letter, treasured the thoughts and visions it +brought him, pondered the question of whether he might answer it, and decided +that he had no right. Then he put it away with his own heartache, plunging into +his work with redoubled energy, and taking an antidote of so many pages of +Blackstone when his thoughts lingered on forbidden subjects. So the winter fled +away and spring came stealing on apace. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap17"></a>Chapter XVII</h3> + +<p> +As Michael had no definite knowledge of either his exact age, or what month his +birthday came, there could be no day set for his coming of age. The little +information that could be gathered from his own memory of how many summers and +winters he had passed showed that he was approximately seven years old at the +time of the shooting affray. If that were correct it would make him between +nineteen and twenty at the time of his graduation. +</p> + +<p> +On the first day of July following his first winter in New York Michael +received a brief letter from Mr. Endicott, containing a check for a thousand +dollars, with congratulations on his majority and a request that he call at the +office the next day. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, eager, grateful, overwhelmed, was on hand to the minute appointed. +</p> + +<p> +The wealthy business man, whose banking affairs had long since righted +themselves, turned from his multifarious duties, and rested his eyes upon the +young fellow, listening half-amused to his eager thanks. +</p> + +<p> +The young man in truth was a sight to rest weary eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The winter in New York had put new lines into his face and deepened the wells +of his blue eyes; they were the work of care and toil and suffering, +but—they had made a man’s face out of a boy’s fresh +countenance. There was power in the fine brow, strength in the firm, +well-moulded chin, and both kindliness and unselfishness in the lovely curves +of his pleasant lips. The city barber had been artist enough not to cut the +glorious hair too short while yet giving it the latest clean cut curve behind +the ears and in the neck. By instinct Michael’s hands were well cared +for. Endicott’s tailor had looked out for the rest. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, son,” Endicott cut Michael’s +sentence short. “I’m pleased with the way you’ve been doing. +Holt tells me he never had a more promising student in his office. He says +you’re cut out for the law, and you’re going to be a success. But +what’s this they tell me about you spending your evenings in the slums? I +don’t like the sound of that. Better cut that out.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael began to tell in earnest protesting words of what he was trying to do, +but Endicott put up an impatient hand: +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all very well, son, I’ve no doubt they appreciate +your help and all that, and it’s been very commendable in you to give +your time, but now you owe yourself something, and you owe the world something. +You’ve got to turn out a great lawyer and prove to the world that people +from that district are worth helping. That’s the best way in the long run +to help those people. Give them into somebody else’s hands now. +You’ve done your part. When you get to be a rich man you can give them +something now and then if you like, but it’s time to cut out the work +now. That sort of thing might be very popular in a political leader, but +you’ve got your way to make and it’s time you gave your evenings to +culture, and to going out into society somewhat. Here’s a list of +concerts and lectures for next winter. You ought to go to them all. I’m +sorry I didn’t think of it this winter, but perhaps it was as well not to +go too deep at the start. However, you ought to waste no more time. I’ve +put your application in for season tickets for those things on that list, and +you’ll receive tickets in due time. There’s an art exhibition or +two where there are good things to be seen. You’ve got to see and hear +everything if you want to be a thoroughly educated man. I said a word or two +about you here and there, and I think you’ll receive some invitations +worth accepting pretty soon. You’ll need a dress suit, and I had word +sent to the tailor about it this morning when it occurred to me—” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” said Michael amazed and perturbed, “I do not belong in +society. People do not want one like me there. If they knew they would not ask +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bosh! All bosh! Didn’t I tell you to cut that out? People +don’t know and you’ve no need to tell them. They think you are a +distant relative of mine if they think anything about it, and you’re not +to tell them you are not. You owe it to me to keep still about it. If I +guarantee you’re all right that ought to suit anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t go where people thought I was more than I was,” +said Michael, head up, eyes shining, his firmest expression on his mouth, but +intense trouble in his eyes. It was hard to go against his benefactor. +</p> + +<p> +“You got all those foolish notions from working down there in the slums. +You’re got a false idea of yourself and a false notion of right and +wrong. It’s high time you stopped going there. After you’ve been to +a dance or two and a few theatre suppers, and got acquainted with some nice +girls who’ll invite you to their house-parties you’ll forget you +ever had anything to do with the slums. I insist that you give that work up at +once. Promise me you will not go near the place again. Write them a +letter—” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t do that!” said Michael, his face expressive of +anguish fighting with duty. +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t! Nonsense. There is no such word. I say I want you to do +it. Haven’t I proved my right to make that request?” +</p> + +<p> +“You have,” said Michael, dropping his sorrowing eyes slowly, and +taking out the folded check from his pocket. “You have the right to ask +it, but I have no right to do what you ask. I have begun the work, and it would +not be right to stop it. Indeed, I couldn’t. If you knew what it means to +those fellows—but I cannot keep this if you feel that way! I was going to +use it for the work—but now—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s pauses were eloquent. Endicott was deeply touched but he would +not show it. He was used to having his own way, and it irritated, while it +pleased him in a way, to have Michael so determined. As Michael stopped talking +he laid the check sadly on the desk. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense!” said Endicott irritably, “this has nothing to do +with the check. That was your birthday present. Use it as you like. What I have +given I have given and I won’t take back even if I have nothing more to +do with you from this time forth. I have no objection to your giving away as +much money as you can spare to benevolent institutions, but I say that I do +object to your wasting your time and your reputation in such low places. It +will injure you eventually, it can’t help it. I want you to take your +evenings for society and for lectures and concerts—” +</p> + +<p> +“I will go to the concerts and lectures gladly,” said Michael +gravely. “I can see they will be fine for me, and I thank you very much +for the opportunity, but that will not hinder my work. It begins always rather +late in the evening, and there are other times—” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve no business to be staying out in places like that after the +hour of closing of decent places of amusement.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael refrained from saying that he had several times noticed society ladies +returning from balls and entertainments when he was on his way home. +</p> + +<p> +“I simply can’t have it if I’m to stand back of you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m, sorry,” said Michael. “You won’t ever know +how sorry I am. It was so good to know that I had somebody who cared a little +for me. I shall miss it very much. It has been almost like having a real +father. Do you mean that you will have to give up +the—fatherliness?” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott’s voice shook with mingled emotions. It couldn’t be that +this young upstart who professed to be so grateful and for whom he had done so +much would actually for the sake of a few wretched beings and a sentimental +feeling that he belonged in the slums and ought to do something for them, run +the risk of angering him effectually. It could not be! +</p> + +<p> +“It means that I shall not do any of the things I had planned to do for +you, if you persist in refusing my most reasonable request. Listen, young +man—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael noticed with keen pain that he had dropped the customary +“son” from his conversation, and it gave him a queer choky +sensation of having been cut off from the earth. +</p> + +<p> +“I had planned”—the keen eyes searched the beautiful manly +face before him and the man’s voice took on an insinuating tone; the tone +he used when he wished to buy up some political pull; the tone that never +failed to buy his man. Yet even as he spoke he felt an intuition that here was +a man whom he could not buy— +</p> + +<p> +“I had planned to do a good many things for you. You will be through your +studies pretty soon and be ready to set up for yourself. Had you thought ahead +enough to know whether you would like a partnership in some old firm or whether +you want to set up for yourself?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s voice was grave and troubled but he answered at once: +</p> + +<p> +“I would like to set up for myself, sir. There are things I must do, and +I do not know if a partner would feel as I do about them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” said Endicott with satisfaction. He could not but be +pleased with the straightforward, decided way in which the boy was going ahead +and shaping his own life. It showed he had character. There was nothing Mr. +Endicott prized more than character—or what he called character: +“Very well, when you get ready to set up for yourself, and I don’t +think that is going to be so many years off from what I hear, I will provide +you an office, fully furnished, in the most desirable quarter of the city, and +start you off as you ought to be started in order to win. I will introduce you +to some of my best friends, and put lucrative business in your way, business +with the great corporations that will bring you into immediate prominence; then +I will propose your name for membership in two or three good clubs. Now those +things I will do because I believe you have it in you to make good; but +you’ll need the boosting. Every man in this city does. Genius alone +can’t work you up to the top; but I can give you what you need and I mean +to do it, only I feel that you on your part ought to be willing to comply with +the conditions.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a deep silence in the room. Michael was struggling to master his +voice, but when he spoke it was husky with suppressed feeling: +</p> + +<p> +“It is a great plan,” he said. “It is just like you. I thank +you, sir, for the thought, with all my heart. It grieves me more than anything +I ever had to do to say no to you, but I cannot do as you ask. I cannot give up +what I am trying to do. I feel it would be wrong for me. I feel that it is +imperative, sir!” +</p> + +<p> +“Cannot! Humph! Cannot! You are like all the little upstart reformers, +filled with conceit of course. You think there is no one can do the work but +yourself! I will pay some one to do what you are doing! Will that satisfy +you?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael slowly shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No one could do it for pay,” he said with conviction. “It +must be done from—perhaps it is love—I do not know. But anyway, no +one was doing it, and I must, for THEY ARE MY PEOPLE!” +</p> + +<p> +As he said this the young man lifted his head with that angel-proud look of his +that defied a universe to set him from his purpose, and Endicott while he +secretly reveled in the boy’s firmness and purpose, yet writhed that he +could not control this strength as he would. +</p> + +<p> +“Your people! Bosh! You don’t even know that! You may be the son of +the richest man in New York for all you know.” +</p> + +<p> +“The more shame mine, then, if he left me where you found me! Mr. +Endicott, have you ever been down in the alley where I used to live? Do you +know the conditions down there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, nor I don’t want to go. And what’s more I don’t +want you to go again. Whatever you were or are, you ought to see that you are +mine now. Why, youngster, how do you know but you were kidnapped for a ransom, +and the game went awry? There are a thousand explanations of your unknown +presence there. You may have been lost—” +</p> + +<p> +“Then have I not a debt to the people with whom I lived!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, poppycock!” exclaimed the man angrily. “We’d +better close the conversation. You understand how I feel. If you think it over +and change your mind come back and tell me within the week. I sail Saturday for +Europe. I may not be back in three or four months. If you don’t make up +your mind before I go you can write to me here at the office and my secretary +will forward it. You have disappointed me beyond anything I could have dreamed. +I am sure when you think it over you will see how wrong you are and change your +mind. Until then, good-bye!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael arose dismissed, but he could not go that way. +</p> + +<p> +“I shall not change my mind,” he said sadly, “but it is +terrible not to have you understand. Won’t you let me tell you all about +it? Won’t you let me explain?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t want to hear any explanations. There is only one thing +for me to understand and that is that you think more of a set of vagabonds in +an alley than you do of my request!” +</p> + +<p> +“No! That is not true!” said Michael. “I think more of you +than of any living man. I do not believe I could love you more if you were my +own father. I would give my life for you this minute—” +</p> + +<p> +“There is an old word somewhere that says, ‘To obey is better than +sacrifice.’ Most people think they would rather be great heroes than do +the simple every-day things demanded of them. The test does not always prove +that they would—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s head went up almost haughtily, but there were great tears in +his eyes. Endicott dropped his own gaze from that sorrowful face. He knew his +words were false and cruel. He knew that Michael would not hesitate a second to +give his life. But the man could not bear to be withstood. +</p> + +<p> +“If you feel that way I cannot take this!” Michael sadly, proudly +held out the check. +</p> + +<p> +“As you please!” said Endicott curtly. “There’s the +waste-basket. Put it in if you like. It isn’t mine any longer. You may +spend it as you please. My conditions have nothing to do with what is past. If +you do not prize my gift to you by all means throw it away.” +</p> + +<p> +With a glance that would have broken Endicott’s heart if he had not been +too stubborn to look up, Michael slowly folded the check and put it back into +his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I do prize it,” he said, “and I prize it because you gave it +to me. It meant and always will mean a great deal to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m!” +</p> + +<p> +“There is one more thing perhaps I ought to tell you,” hesitated +Michael “The farm. I am using it in my work for those people. Perhaps you +will not approve of that—” +</p> + +<p> +“I have nothing further to do with the farm. You bought it, I believe. +You desired to pay for it when you were earning enough money to be able to do +so. That time has not yet come, therefore nothing further need be said. It is +your farm and you may use it as a pleasure park for pigs if you like. I +don’t go back on my bargains. Good afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned to the ’phone, took up the receiver and called up a +number. Michael saw that the conversation was ended. Slowly, with heavy step +and heavier heart, he went out of the office. +</p> + +<p> +There were new lines of sadness on Michael’s face that day, and when he +went down to the alley that evening his gentleness with all the little +“kids,” and with the older ones, was so great that they looked at +him more than once with a new kind of awe and wonder. It was the gentleness of +sacrifice, of sacrifice for them, that was bringing with it the pain of love. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal who came over to “look in” that evening, as she put it, +shook her head as she stumped back to her rejuvenated room with its gaudy +flowered wall, bit of white curtain and pot of flowers in the window, all the +work of Michael and his follower Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m thinkin’ he’ll disuppeer one o’ these days. +Ye’ll wake up an’ he’ll be gahn. He’s not of this +worrld. He’ll sprid his wings an’ away. He’s a man-angel, +thet’s wot he is!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael went home that night and wrote a letter to Mr. Endicott that would have +broken a heart of stone, telling his inmost thought; showing his love and +anguish in every sentence; and setting forth simply and unassumingly the +wonderful work he was doing in the alley. +</p> + +<p> +But though he waited in anxiety day after day he received not a word of reply. +Endicott read the letter every word, and fairly gloated over the boy’s +strength, but he was too stubborn to let it be known. Also he rather enjoyed +the test to which he was putting him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael even watched the outgoing vessels on Saturday, looked up the passenger +lists, went down to the wharf and tried to see him before he sailed, but for +some reason was unable to get in touch with him. +</p> + +<p> +Standing sadly on the wharf as the vessel sailed he caught sight of Endicott, +but though he was sure he had been seen he received no sign of recognition, and +he turned away sick at heart, and feeling as if he had for conscience’s +sake stabbed one that loved him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap18"></a>Chapter XVIII</h3> + +<p> +Those were trying days for Michael. +</p> + +<p> +The weather had turned suddenly very warm. The office was sometimes stifling. +The daily routine got upon his nerves, he who had never before known that he +had nerves. There was always the aching thought that Starr was gone from +him—forever—and now he had by his own word cut loose from her +father—forever! His literal heart saw no hope in the future. +</p> + +<p> +About that time, too, another sorrow fell upon him. He was glancing over the +paper one morning on his way to the office, and his eye fell on the following +item: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +LONE TRAIN BANDIT HURT IN FIGHT AFTER GETTING LOOT +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Captured by Conductor After He Had Rifled Mail Bags on Union Pacific Express +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Topeka, Kan., July—. A daring bandit was captured last night a he had +robbed the mail car on Union Pacific train No. —— which left Kansas +City for Denver at 10 o’clock.<br> + The train known as the Denver Express, carrying heavy mail, was just +leaving Kansas City, when a man ran across the depot platform and leaped into +the mail car through the open door. The clerk in charge faced the man, who +aimed a revolver at him. He was commanded to bind and gag his five associates, +and obeyed. The robber then went through all the registered pouches, stuffing +the packages into his pockets. Then he commanded the clerk to untie his +comrades.<br> + At Bonner Springs where the train made a brief stop the bandit ordered the +men to continue their work, so as not to attract the attention of persons at +the station. When Lawrence was reached the robber dropped from the car and ran +toward the rear of the train. The conductor summoned two Lawrence policemen and +all three followed. After a quick race, and a struggle during which the +bandit’s arm was broken, he was captured. It appears that the prisoner is +an old offender, for whom the police of New York have been searching in vain +for the past ten months. He is known in the lower districts of New York City as +“Fighting Buck,” and has a list of offenses against him too +numerous to mention. +</p> + +<p> +Michael did not know why his eye had been attracted to the item nor why he had +read the article through to the finish. It was not the kind of thing he cared +to read; yet of late all crime and criminals had held a sort of sorrowful +fascination for him. “It is what I might have done if I had stayed in the +alley,” he would say to himself when he heard of some terrible crime that +had been committed. +</p> + +<p> +But when he reached the end of the article and saw Buck’s name his heart +seemed to stand still. +</p> + +<p> +Buck! The one of all his old comrades whom he had loved the most, who had loved +him, and sacrificed for him; to whom he had written and sent money; whose brain +was brighter and whose heart bigger than any of the others; for whom he had +searched in vain, and found only to lose before he had seen him; whom he had +hoped yet to find and to save. Buck had done this, and was caught in his guilt. +And a government offense, too, robbing the mail bags! It would mean long, hard +service. It would mean many years before Michael could help him to the right +kind of life, even if ever. +</p> + +<p> +He asked permission to leave the office that afternoon, and took the train down +to the farm where Sam had been staying for some weeks. He read the article to +him, hoping against hope that Sam would say there was some mistake; would know +somehow that Buck was safe. But Sam listened with lowering countenance, and +when the reading was finished he swore a great oath, such as he had not uttered +before in Michael’s presence, and Michael knew that the story must be +true. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing could be done now. The law must have its course, but Michael’s +heart was heavy with the weight of what might have been if he could but have +found Buck sooner. The next day he secured permission to begin his vacation at +once, and in spite of great need of his presence at Old Orchard he took the +train for Kansas. He felt that he must see Buck at once. +</p> + +<p> +All during that long dismal ride Michael’s heart was beating over and +over with the story of his own life. “I might have done this thing. I +would have dared and thought it brave if I had not been taught better. I might +be even now in jail with a broken arm and a useless life: the story of my crime +might be bandied through the country in the newspapers if it had not been for +Mr. Endicott—and little Starr! And yet I have hurt his feelings and +alienated his great kindness by refusing his request. Was there no other way? +Was there no other way?” And always his conscience answered, “There +was no other way!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael, armed with a letter from the senior Holt to a powerful member of +western municipal affairs, found entrance to Buck in his miserable confinement +quite possible. He dawned upon his one-time friend, out of the darkness of the +cell, as a veritable angel of light. Indeed, Buck, waking from a feverish sleep +on his hard little cot, moaning and cursing with the pain his arm was giving +him, started up and looked at him with awe and horror! The light from the +corridor caught the gold in Michael’s hair and made his halo perfect; and +Buck thought for the moment that some new terror had befallen him, and he was +in the hands of the angel of death sent to summon him to a final judgment for +all his misdeeds. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael met his old friend with tenderness, and a few phrases that had been +wont to express their childish loyalty; and Buck, weakened by the fever and the +pain, and more than all by his own defeat and capture, broke down and wept, and +Michael wept with him. +</p> + +<p> +“It might have been me instead of you, Buck. If I had stayed behind, +I’d have done all those things. I see it clearly. I might have been lying +here and you out and free. Buck, if it could give you my chance in life, and +help you see it all as I do I’d gladly lie here and take your +place.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky! Mikky!” cried Buck. “It’s me own Mikky! You was +allus willin’ to take de rubs! But, Mikky, ef you’d hed de +trainin’ you’d hev made de fine robber! You’d hev been a +peach an’ no mistake!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had found a soft spot in the warden’s heart and succeeded in +doing a number of little things for Buck’s comfort. He hunted up the +chaplain and secured a promise from him to teach Buck to read and write, and +also to read to him all letters that Buck received, until such a time as he +should be able to read them for himself. He sent a pot of roses with buds and +full bloom to perfume the dark cell, and he promised to write often; while Buck +on his part could only say over and over; “Oh, Mikky! Mikky! Ef we wos +oney kids agin! Oh, Mikky, I’ll git out o’ here yit an’ find +ye. Ye’ll not be ashamed o’ me. Ef I oney hadn’t a bungled de +job. It were a bum job! Mikky! A bum job!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael saw that there was little use in talking to Buck about his sin. Buck +had nothing whatever to build upon in the line of morals. To be loyal to his +friends, and to do his “work” so that he would not get caught were +absolutely the only articles in his creed. To get ahead of the rich, to take +from them that which was theirs if he could, regardless of life or +consequences, that was virtue; the rich were enemies, and his daring code of +honor gave them the credit of equal courage with himself. They must outwit him +or lose. If they died it was “all in the day’s work” and +their loss. When his turn came he would take his medicine calmly. But the +trouble with Buck now was that he had “bungled the job.” It was a +disgrace on his profession. Things had been going against him lately, and he +was “down on his luck.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael went back from the West feeling that the brief time allowed him with +Buck was all too short for what he wanted to do for him; yet he felt that it +had been worth the journey. Buck appreciated his sympathy, if he did not have +an adequate sense of his own sinfulness. Michael had talked and pitied and +tried to make Buck see, but Buck saw not, and Michael went home to hope and +write and try to educate Buck through sheer love. It was all he saw to do. +</p> + +<p> +It was about this time that Michael began to receive money in small sums, +anonymously, through the mail. “For your work” the first was +labelled and the remittances that followed had no inscriptions. They were not +always addressed in the same hand, and never did he know the writing. Sometimes +there would be a ten-dollar bill, sometimes a twenty, and often more, and they +came irregularly, enclosed in a thin, inner envelope of foreign looking paper. +Michael wondered sometimes if Starr could have sent them, but that was +impossible of course, for she knew nothing of his work, and they were always +postmarked New York. He discovered that such thin foreign-looking envelopes +could be had in New York, and after that he abandoned all idea of trying to +solve the mystery. It was probably some queer, kind person who did not wish to +be known. He accepted the help gladly and broadened his plans for the farm +accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +Sam and his five friends had gone down early in the spring, bunking in the old +house, and enjoying the outing immensely. Under Sam’s captaincy, and the +tutelage of an old farmer whom Michael had found, who could not work much +himself but could direct, the work had gone forward; Michael himself coming +down Saturdays, and such of the tail ends of the afternoons as he could get. It +is true that many mistakes were made through ignorance, and more through +stupidity. It is true that no less than five times the whole gang went on a +strike until Michael should return to settle some dispute between the new +scientific farming that he had taught them, and some old superstition, or +clumsy practice of the farmer’s. But on the whole they did tolerably good +work. +</p> + +<p> +The farm colony had been meantime increasing. Michael picked them up in the +alley; they came to him and asked to be taken on for a trial. They had heard of +the experiment through Sam, or one of the other boys who had come back to the +city for a day on some errand for the farm. +</p> + +<p> +One glorious summer morning Michael took ten small eager newsboys down to pick +wild strawberries for the day, and they came back dirty, tired, strawberry +streaked, and happy, and loudly sang the praises of Old Orchard as though it +had been a Heaven. After that Michael had no trouble in transplanting any one +he wished to take with him. +</p> + +<p> +He found a poor wretch who had lately moved with his family to one of the +crowded tenements in the alley. He was sodden in drink and going to pieces +fast. Michael sobered him down, found that he used to be a master carpenter, +and forthwith transplanted him to Old Orchard, family and all. +</p> + +<p> +Under the hand of the skilled carpenter there sprang up immediately a colony of +tents and later small one-roomed shacks or bungalows. Michael bought lumber and +found apprentices to help, and the carpenter of the colony repaired barns and +outhouses, fences, or built shacks, whenever the head of affairs saw fit to +need another. +</p> + +<p> +The only person in the whole alley whom Michael had invited in vain to the farm +was old Sally. She had steadily refused to leave her gaily papered room, her +curtained window and her geranium. It was a symbol of “ould +Ireland” to her, and she felt afraid of this new place of +Michael’s. It seemed to her superstitious fancy like an immediate door to +a Heaven, from which she felt herself barred by her life. It assumed a kind of +terror to her thoughts. She was not ready to leave her little bit of life and +take chances even for Michael. And so old Sal sat on her doorstep and watched +the alley dwellers come and go, listening with interest to each new account of +the farm, but never willing to see for herself. Perhaps the secret of her +hesitation after all went deeper than superstition. She had received private +information that Old Orchard had no Rum Shop around the corner. Old Sally could +not run any risks, so she stayed at home. +</p> + +<p> +But the carpenter’s wife was glad to cook for the men when the busy days +of planting and weeding and harvesting came, and the colony grew and grew. Two +or three other men came down with their families, and helped the carpenter to +build them little houses, with a bit of garden back, and a bed of flowers in +front. They could see the distant sea from their tiny porches, and the river +wound its salty silver way on the other hand. It was a great change from the +alley. Not all could stand it, but most of them bore the summer test well. It +would be when winter set its white distance upon them, chilled the flowers to +slumber, and stopped the labor that the testing time would come; and Michael +was thinking about that. +</p> + +<p> +He began hunting out helpers for his purposes. +</p> + +<p> +He found a man skilled in agricultural arts and secured his services to hold a +regular school of agriculture during the winter for the men. He found a poor +student at Princeton who could run up on the train daily and give simple +lessons in reading and arithmetic. He impressed it upon Sam and the other young +men that unless they could read for themselves enough to keep up with the new +discoveries in the science other farmers would get ahead of them and grow +bigger potatoes and sweeter ears of corn than they did. He kept up a continual +sunny stream of eager converse with them about what they were going to do, and +how the place was going to grow, until they felt as if they owned the earth and +meant to show the world how well they were running it. In short, he simply +poured his own spirit of enthusiasm into them, and made the whole hard summer +of unaccustomed labor one great game; and when the proceeds from their first +simple crops came in from the sale of such products as they did not need for +their own use in the colony, Michael carefully divided it among his various +workmen and at his wish they went in a body and each started a bank account at +the little National Bank of the town. It was a very little of course, absurdly +little, but it made the workers feel like millionaires, and word of the +successes went back to the city, and more and more the people were willing to +come down, until by fall there were thirty-eight men, women and children, all +told, living on the farm. +</p> + +<p> +Of course that made little appreciable difference in the population of the +alley, for as soon as one family moved out another was ready to move in, and +there was plenty of room for Michael’s work to go on. Nevertheless, there +were thirty-eight souls on the way to a better knowledge of life, with clean +and wholesome surroundings and a chance to learn how to read and how to work. +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter was set to get ready more tiny houses for the next summer’s +campaign, the tents were folded away, the spring wheat was all in; the fall +plowing and fertilizing completed and whatever else ought to be done to a farm +for its winter sleep; half a dozen cows were introduced into the settlement and +a roomy chicken house and run prepared. Sam set about studying incubators, and +teaching his helpers. Then when the cranberries were picked the colony settled +down to its study. +</p> + +<p> +The Princeton student and the agricultural student grew deeply interested in +their motley school, and finally produced a young woman who came down every +afternoon for a consideration, and taught a kindergarten, to which many of the +prematurely grown-up mothers came also with great delight and profit, and +incidentally learned how to be better, cleaner, wiser mothers. The young woman +of her own accord added a cooking school for the women and girls. +</p> + +<p> +Once a week Michael brought down some one from New York to amuse these poor +childish people. And so the winter passed. +</p> + +<p> +Once a wealthy friend of Mr. Holt asked to be taken down to see the place, and +after going the rounds of the farm and making himself quite friendly roasting +chestnuts around the great open fire in the “big house,” as the +original cottage was called, returned to New York with many congratulations for +Michael. A few days afterward he mailed to Michael the deed of the adjoining +farm of one hundred acres, and Michael, radiant, wondering, began to know that +his dreams for his poor downtrodden people were coming true. There would be +room enough now for many a year to come for the people he needed to bring down. +</p> + +<p> +Of course this had not all been done without discouragements. Some of the most +hopeful of the colonists had proved unmanageable, or unwilling to work; some +had run away, or smuggled in some whiskey. There had been two or three +incipient rows, and more than double that number of disappointing enterprises, +but yet, the work was going on. +</p> + +<p> +And still, there came no word from Mr. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was holding well with his employers, and they were beginning to talk to +him of a partnership with them when he was done, for he had far outstripped +French in his studies, and seemed to master everything he touched with an +eagerness that showed great intellectual appetite. +</p> + +<p> +He still kept up his work in the little white room in the alley, evenings, +though he divided his labors somewhat with Will French, Miss Semple and others +who had heard of the work and had gradually offered their services. It had +almost become a little settlement or mission in itself. The one room had become +two and a bath; then the whole first floor with a small gymnasium. French was +the enthusiastic leader in this, and Hester Semple had done many things for the +little children and women. The next set of colonists for Michael’s farm +were always being got ready and were spoken of as “eligibles” by +the workers. +</p> + +<p> +Hester Semple had proved to be a most valuable assistant, ever ready with +suggestions, tireless and as enthusiastic as Michael himself. Night after night +the three toiled, and came home happily together. The association with the two +was very sweet to Michael, whose heart was famished for friends and relations +who “belonged,” But it never occurred to Michael to look on Miss +Semple in any other light than friend and fellow worker. +</p> + +<p> +Will French and Michael were coming home from the office one afternoon +together, and talking eagerly of the progress at the farm. +</p> + +<p> +“When you get married, Endicott,” said Will, “you must build +a handsome bungalow or something for your summer home, down there on that knoll +just overlooking the river where you can see the sea in the distance.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael grew sober at once. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t expect ever to be married, Will,” he said after a +pause, with one of his far-away looks, and his chin up, showing that what he +had said was an indisputable fact. +</p> + +<p> +“The Dickens!” said Will stopping in his walk and holding up +Michael. “She hasn’t refused you, has she?” +</p> + +<p> +“Refused me? Who? What do you mean?” asked Michael looking puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Hester—Miss Semple. She hasn’t turned you down, old +chap?” +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Semple! Why, Will, you never thought—you don’t think +she ever thought—?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I didn’t know,” said Will embarrassedly, “it +looked pretty much like it sometimes. There didn’t seem much show for me. +I’ve thought lately you had it all settled and were engaged sure.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Will,” said Michael in that tone that showed his soul was +moved to its depth. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, old chap!” said Will, “I’m fiercely sorry +I’ve butted in to your affairs. I never dreamed you’d feel like +this. But seeing I have, would you mind telling me if you’ll give me a +good send off with Hester? Sort of ‘bless-you-my-son,’ you know; +and tell me you don’t mind if I go ahead and try my luck.” +</p> + +<p> +“With all my heart, Will. I never thought of it, but I believe it would +be great for you both. You seem sort of made for each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s awfully good of you to say so,” said Will, “but +I’m afraid Hester doesn’t think so. She’s all taken up with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all!” said Michael eagerly. “Not in the least. +I’ve never noticed it. I’m sure she likes you best.” +</p> + +<p> +And it was so from that night that Michael almost always had some excuse for +staying later at the room, or for going somewhere else for a little while so +that he would have to leave them half way home; and Hester and Will from that +time forth walked together more and more. Thus Michael took his lonely way, cut +off from even this friendly group. +</p> + +<p> +And the summer and the winter made the second year of the colony at Old +Orchard. +</p> + +<p> +Then, the following spring Starr Endicott and her mother came home and things +began to happen. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap19"></a>Chapter XIX</h3> + +<p> +Starr was eighteen when she returned, and very beautiful. Society was made at +once aware of her presence. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, whose heart was ever on the alert to know of her, and to find out +where Mr. Endicott was, saw the first notice in the paper. +</p> + +<p> +Three times had Endicott crossed the water to visit his wife and daughter +during their stay abroad, and every time Michael had known and anxiously +awaited some sign of his return. He had read the society columns now for two +years solely for the purpose of seeing whether anything would be said about the +Endicott family, and he was growing wondrously wise in the ways of the society +world. +</p> + +<p> +Also, he had come to know society a little in another way. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly after his last interview with Endicott Miss Emily Holt, daughter of the +senior member of the firm of Holt and Holt, had invited Michael to dine with +her father and herself; and following this had come an invitation to a house +party at the Holts’ country seat. This came in the busy season of the +farm work; but Michael, anxious to please his employers, took a couple of days +off and went. And he certainly enjoyed the good times to the full. He had +opportunity to renew his tennis in which he had been a master hand, and to row +and ride, in both of which he excelled. Also, he met a number of pleasant +people who accepted him for the splendid fellow he looked to be and asked not +who he was. Men of his looks and bearing came not in their way every day and +Michael was good company wherever he went. +</p> + +<p> +However, when it came to the evenings, Michael was at a loss. He could not +dance nor talk small talk. He was too intensely in earnest for society’s +ways, and they did not understand. He could talk about the books he had read, +and the things he had thought, but they were great thoughts and not at all good +form for a frivolous company to dwell upon. One did not want a problem in +economics or a deep philosophical question thrust upon one at a dance. Michael +became a delightful but difficult proposition for the girls present, each one +undertaking to teach him how to talk in society, but each in turn making a +miserable failure. At last Emily Holt herself set out to give him gentle hints +on light conversation and found herself deep in a discussion of +Wordsworth’s poems about which she knew absolutely nothing, and in which +Michael’s weary soul had been steeping itself lately. +</p> + +<p> +Miss Holt retired in laughing defeat, at last, and advised her protégé to take +a course of modern novels. Michael, always serious, took her at her word, and +with grave earnestness proceeded to do so; but his course ended after two or +three weeks. He found them far from his taste, the most of them too vividly +portraying the sins of his alley in a setting of high life. Michael had enough +of that sort of thing in real life, and felt he could not stand the strain of +modern fiction, so turned back to his Wordsworth again and found soothing and +mental stimulus. +</p> + +<p> +But there followed other invitations, some of which he accepted and some of +which he declined. Still, the handsome, independent young Adonis was in great +demand in spite of his peculiar habit of always being in earnest about +everything. Perhaps they liked him and ran after him but the more because of +his inaccessibility, and the fact that he was really doing something in the +world. For it began to be whispered about among those who knew—and +perhaps Emily Holt was the originator—that Michael was going to be +something brilliant in the world of worth-while-things one of these days. +</p> + +<p> +The tickets that Endicott promised him had arrived in due time, and anxious to +please his benefactor, even in his alienation, Michael faithfully attended +concerts and lectures, and enjoyed them to the full, borrowing from his hours +of sleep to make up what he had thus spent, rather than from his work or his +study. And thus he grew in knowledge of the arts, and in love of all things +great, whether music, or pictures, or great minds. +</p> + +<p> +Matters stood thus when Starr appeared on the scene. +</p> + +<p> +The young girl made her début that winter, and the papers were full of her +pictures and the entertainments given in her honor. She was dined and danced +and recepted day after day and night after night, and no débutante had ever +received higher praise of the critics for beauty, grace, and charm of manner. +</p> + +<p> +Michael read them all, carefully cut out and preserved a few pleasant things +that were written about her, looked at the pictures, and turned from the pomp +and pride of her triumph to the little snapshot of herself on horseback in the +Park with her groom, which she had sent to him when she was a little girl. That +was his, and his alone, but these others belonged to the world, the world in +which he had no part. +</p> + +<p> +For from all this gaiety of society Michael now held aloof. Invitations he +received, not a few, for he was growing more popular every day, but he declined +them all. A fine sense of honor kept him from going anywhere that Starr was +sure to be. He had a right, of course, and it would have been pleasant in a way +to have her see that he was welcome in her world; but always there was before +his mental vision the memory of her mother’s biting words as she put him +down from the glorified presence of her world, into an existence of shame and +sin and sorrow. He felt that Starr was so far above him that he must not hurt +her by coming too near. And so, in deference to the vow that he had taken when +the knowledge of his unworthiness had first been presented to him, he stayed +away. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, as she heard more and more of his conquests in her world, wondered and +was piqued that he came not near her. And one day meeting him by chance on +Fifth Avenue, she greeted him graciously and invited him to call. +</p> + +<p> +Michael thanked her with his quiet manner, while his heart was in a tumult over +her beauty, and her dimpled smiles that blossomed out in the old childish ways, +only still more beautifully, it seemed to him. He went in the strength of that +smile many days: but he did not go to call upon her. +</p> + +<p> +The days passed into weeks and months, and still he did not appear, and Starr, +hearing more of his growing inaccessibility, determined to show the others that +she could draw him out of his shell. She humbled her Endicott pride and wrote +him a charming little note asking him to call on one of the +“afternoons” when she and her mother held court. But Michael, +though he treasured the note, wrote a graceful, but decided refusal. +</p> + +<p> +This angered the young woman, exceedingly, and she decided to cut him out of +her good graces entirely. And indeed the whirl of gaiety in which she was +involved scarcely gave her time for remembering old friends. In occasional odd +moments when she thought of him at all, it was with a vague kind of +disappointment, that he too, with all the other things of her childhood, had +turned out to be not what she had thought. +</p> + +<p> +But she met him face to face one bright Sunday afternoon as she walked on the +avenue with one of the many courtiers who eagerly attended her every step. He +was a slender, handsome young fellow, with dark eyes and hair and reckless +mouth. There were jaded lines already around his youthful eyes and lips. His +name was Stuyvesant Carter. Michael recognized him at once. His picture had +been in the papers but the week before as leader with Starr of the cotillion. +His presence with her in the bright sunny afternoon was to Michael like a great +cloud of trouble looming out of a perfect day. He looked and looked again, his +expressive eyes searching the man before him to the depths, and then going to +the other face, beautiful, innocent, happy. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was walking with Hester Semple. +</p> + +<p> +Now Hester, in her broadcloth tailored suit, and big black hat with plumes, was +a pretty sight, and she looked quite distinguished walking beside Michael, +whose garments seemed somehow always to set him off as if they had been +especially designed for him; and after whom many eyes were turned as he passed +by. +</p> + +<p> +Had it been but the moment later, or even three minutes before, Will French +would have been with them and Michael would have been obviously a third member +of the party, for he was most careful in these days to let them both know that +he considered they belonged together. But Will had stopped a moment to speak to +a business acquaintance, and Hester and Michael were walking slowly ahead until +he should rejoin them. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” said Hester excitedly. “Isn’t that the pretty +Miss Endicott whose picture is in the papers so much? I’m sure it must +be, though she’s ten times prettier than any of her pictures.” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael needed not his attention called. He was already looking with all +his soul in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +As they came opposite he lifted his hat with, such marked, deference to Starr +that young Stuyvesant Carter turned and looked at him insolently, with a +careless motion of his own hand toward his hat. But Starr, with brilliant +cheeks, and eyes that looked straight at Michael, continued her conversation +with her companion and never so much as by the flicker of an eyelash recognized +her former friend. +</p> + +<p> +It was but an instant in the passing, and Hester was so taken up with looking +at the beauty of the idol of society that she never noticed Michael’s +lifted hat until they were passed. Then Will French joined them breezily. +</p> + +<p> +“Gee whiz, but she’s a peach, isn’t she?” he breathed +as he took his place beside Hester, and Michael dropped behind, “but I +suppose it’ll all rub off. They say most of those swells aren’t +real.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think she’s real!” declared Hester. “Her eyes are +sweet and her smile is charming. The color on her cheeks wasn’t put on +like paint. I just love her. I believe I’d like to know her. She +certainly is beautiful, and she doesn’t look a bit spoiled. Did you ever +see such eyes?” +</p> + +<p> +“They aren’t half as nice as a pair of gray ones I know,” +said Will looking meaningfully at them as they were lifted smiling to his. +</p> + +<p> +“Will, you mustn’t say such things—on the +street—anyway—and Michael just behind—Why, where is Michael? +See! He has dropped away behind and is walking slowly. Will, does Michael know +Miss Endicott? I never thought before about their names being the same. But he +lifted his hat to her—and she simply stared blankly at him as if she had +never seen him before.” +</p> + +<p> +“The little snob!” said Will indignantly. “I told you they +were all artificial. I believe they are some kind of relation or other. Come to +think of it I believe old Endicott introduced Michael into our office. Maybe +she hasn’t seen him in a long time and has forgotten him.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one who had once known Michael could ever forget him,” said +Hester with conviction. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I suppose that’s so,” sighed Will, looking at her a +trifle wistfully. +</p> + +<p> +After the incident of this meeting Michael kept more and more aloof from even +small entrances into society; and more and more he gave his time to study and +to work among the poor. +</p> + +<p> +So the winter passed in a round of gaieties, transplanted for a few weeks to +Palm Beach, then back again to New York, then to Tuxedo for the summer, and +Michael knew of it all, yet had no part any more in it, for now she had cut him +out of her life herself, and he might not even cherish her bright smiles and +words of the past. She did not wish to know him. It was right, it was just; it +was best; but it was agony! +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s fresh color grew white that year, and he looked more like the +man-angel than ever as he came and went in the alley; old Sally from her +doorstep, drawing nearer and nearer to her own end, saw it first, and called +daily attention to the spirit-look of Michael as he passed. +</p> + +<p> +One evening early in spring, Michael was starting home weary and unusually +discouraged. Sam had gone down to the farm with Jim to get ready for the spring +work, and find out just how things were going and what was needed from the +city. Jim was developing into a tolerably dependable fellow save for his hot +temper, and Michael missed them from, the alley work, for the rooms were +crowded now every night. True Hester and Will were faithful, but they were so +much taken up with one another in these days that he did not like to trouble +them with unusual cases, and he had no one with whom to counsel. Several things +had been going awry and he was sad. +</p> + +<p> +Hester and Will were ahead walking slowly as usual. Michael locked the door +with a sigh and turned to follow them, when he saw in the heavy shadows on the +other side of the court two figures steal from one of the openings between the +houses and move along toward the end of the alley. Something in their demeanor +made Michael watch them instinctively. As they neared the end of the alley +toward the street they paused a moment and one of the figures stole back +lingeringly. He thought he recognized her as a girl cursed with more than the +usual amount of beauty. She disappeared into the darkness of the tenement, but +the other after looking back a moment kept on toward the street. Michael +quickened his steps and came to the corner at about the same time, crossing +over as the other man passed the light and looking full in his face. +</p> + +<p> +To his surprise he saw that the man was Stuyvesant Carter! +</p> + +<p> +With an exclamation of disgust and horror Michael stepped full in the pathway +of the man and blocked, his further passage. +</p> + +<p> +“What are you doing here?” He asked in tones that would have made a +brave man tremble. +</p> + +<p> +Stuyvesant Carter glared at the vision that had suddenly stopped his way, drew +his hat down over his evil eyes and snarled: “Get out of my way or +you’ll be sorry! I’m probably doing the same thing that +you’re doing here!” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably not!” said Michael with meaning tone. “You know you +can mean no good to a girl like that one you were just with. Come down here +again at your peril! And if I hear of you’re having anything to do with +that girl I’ll take means to have the whole thing made public.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” said young Carter insolently. “Is she your girl? I +think not! And who are you anyway?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll find out if you come down here again!” said Michael +his fingers fairly aching to grip the gentlemanly villain before him. +“Now get out of here at once or you may not be able to walk out.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll get out when I like!” sneered the other, nevertheless +backing rapidly away through the opening given him. When he had reached a safe +distance, he added, tantalizingly: “And I’ll come back when I like, +too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, I shall be ready for you, Mr. Carter!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s tones were clear and distinct and could be heard two blocks +away in the comparative stillness of the city night. At sound of his real name +spoken fearlessly in such environment, the leader of society slid away into the +night as if he had suddenly been erased from the perspective; nor did sound of +footsteps linger from his going. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was dat guy?” +</p> + +<p> +It was a small voice that spoke at Michael’s elbow. Hester and Will were +far down the street in the other direction and had forgotten Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Michael turned and saw one of his smallest “kids” crouching in the +shadow beside him. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Tony, are you here yet? You ought to have been asleep long +ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was dat de ike wot comes to see Lizzie?” +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Tony, what do you know about this?” +</p> + +<p> +Whereupon Tony proceeded, to unfold a tale that made Michael’s heart +sick. “Lizzie, she’s got swell sence she went away to work to a +res’trant at de sheeshole. She ain’t leavin’ her ma hev her +wages, an’ she wears fierce does, like de swells!” finished Tony +solemnly as if these things were the worst of all that he had told. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael sent Tony to his rest and went home with a heavy heart, to wake and +think through the night long what he should do to save Starr, his bright +beautiful Starr, from the clutches of this human vampire. +</p> + +<p> +When morning dawned Michael knew what he was going to do. He had decided to go +to Mr. Endicott and tell him the whole story. Starr’s father could and +would protect her better than he could. +</p> + +<p> +As early as he could get away from the office he hurried to carry out his +purpose, but on arriving at Mr. Endicott’s office he was told that the +gentleman had sailed for Austria and would be absent some weeks, even months, +perhaps, if his business did not mature as rapidly as he hoped. Michael asked +for the address, but when he reached his desk again and tried to frame a letter +that would convey the truth convincingly to the absent father, who could not +read it for more than a week at least, and would then be thousands of miles +away from the scene of action, he gave it up as useless. Something more +effectual must be done and done quickly. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place he must have facts. He could not do anything until he knew +beyond a shadow of doubt that what he feared was true absolutely. If he could +have told Mr. Endicott all would have been different; he was a man and could do +his own investigating if he saw fit. Michael might have left the matter in his +hands. But he could not tell him. +</p> + +<p> +If there was some other male member of the family to whom he could go with the +warning, he must be very sure of his ground before he spoke. If there were no +such man friend or relative of the family he must do something else—what? +He shrank from thinking. +</p> + +<p> +And so with the sources open to a keen lawyer, he went to work to ferret out +the life and doings of Stuyvesant Carter; and it is needless to say that he +unearthed a lot of information that was so sickening in its nature that he felt +almost helpless before it. It was appalling—and the more so because of +the rank and station of the man. If he had been brought up in the slums one +might have expected—but this! +</p> + +<p> +The second day, Michael, haggard and worn with the responsibility, started out +to find that useful male relative of the Endicott family. There seemed to be no +such person. The third morning he came to the office determined to tell the +whole story to Mr. Holt, senior, and ask his advice and aid in protecting +Starr; but to his dismay he found that Mr. Holt, senior, had been taken +seriously ill with heart trouble, and it might be weeks before he was able to +return to the office. +</p> + +<p> +Deeply grieved and utterly baffled, the young man tried to think what to do +next. The junior Mr. Holt had never encouraged confidences, and would not be +likely to help in this matter. He must do something himself. +</p> + +<p> +And now Michael faced two alternatives. +</p> + +<p> +There were only two people to whom the story could be told, and they were Starr +herself, and her mother! +</p> + +<p> +Tell Starr all he knew he could not. To tell her anything of this story would +be gall and wormwood! To have to drop a hint that would blacken another +man’s character would place him in a most awkward position. To think of +doing it was like tearing out his heart for her to trample upon. +</p> + +<p> +Yet on the other hand Michael would far rather go into battle and face a +thousand bristling cannon mouths than meet the mother on her own ground and +tell her what he had to tell, while her steel-cold eyes looked him through and +through or burned him with scorn and unbelief. He had an instinctive feeling +that he should fail if he went to her. +</p> + +<p> +At last he wrote a note to Starr: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Dear Miss Endicott:<br> + Can you let me have a brief interview at your convenience and just as soon +as possible? I have a favor to ask of you which I most earnestly hope you will +be willing to grant. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Sincerely yours,<br> +Michael. +</p> + +<p> +He sent the note off with fear and trembling. Every word had been carefully +considered and yet it haunted him continually that he might have written +differently. Would she grant the interview? If she did not what then should he +do? +</p> + +<p> +The next day he received a ceremonious little note on creamy paper crested with +a silver star monogramed in blue: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Miss Endicott will receive Mr. Endicott tomorrow morning at eleven. +</p> + +<p> +A shiver ran through him as he read, and consigned the elegant communication to +his waste-basket. It was not from his Starr. It was from a stranger. And yet, +the subtle perfume that stole forth from the envelope reminded him of her. On +second thought he drew it forth again and put it in his pocket. After all she +had granted the interview, and this bit of paper was a part of her daily life; +it had come from her, she had written it, and sent it to him. It was therefore +precious. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had been more than usually thoughtful when she read Michael’s note. +It pleased her that at last she had brought him to her feet, though not for the +world would she let him know it. Doubtless he wished her influence for some +position or other that he would have asked her father instead if he had been at +home. Starr knew nothing of the alienation between her father and Michael. But +Michael should pay for his request, in humility at least. Therefore she sent +her cool little stab of ceremony to call him to her. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael did not look in the least humiliated as he entered the luxurious +library where Starr had chosen to receive him. His manner was grave and +assured, and he made no sign of the tumult it gave him to see her thus in her +own home once more where all her womanliness and charm were but enhanced by the +luxury about her. +</p> + +<p> +He came forward to greet her just as if she had not cut him dead the very last +time they met; and Starr as she regarded him was struck with wonder over the +exalted beauty of manhood that was his unique dower. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for letting me come,” he said simply. “I will not +intrude long upon your time—” +</p> + +<p> +Starr had a strange sensation of fear lest he was going to slip away from her +again before she was willing. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that is all right,” she said graciously; “won’t +you sit down. I am always glad to do a favor for a friend of my +childhood.” +</p> + +<p> +It was a sentence she had rehearsed many times in her mind, and it was meant to +convey reproach and indifference in the extreme, but somehow as she fluttered +into a great leather chair she felt that her voice was trembling and she had +miserably failed in what she had meant to do. She felt strangely ashamed of her +attitude, with those two dear soulful eyes looking straight at her. It reminded +her of the way he had looked when he told her in the Florida chapel long ago +that nobody but herself had ever kissed him—and she had kissed him then. +Suppose he should be going to ask her to do it again! The thought made her +cheeks rosy, and her society air deserted her entirely. But of course he would +not do that. It was a crazy thought. What was the matter with her anyway, and +why did she feel so unnerved? Then Michael spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“May I ask if you know a man by the name of Stuyvesant Carter?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr looked startled, and then stiffened slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I do!” she answered graciously. “He is one of my intimate +friends. Is there anything he can do for you that you would like my +intercession?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr smiled graciously. She thought she understood the reason for +Michael’s call now, and she was pleased to think how easily she could +grant his request. The idea of introducing the two was stimulating. She was +pondering what a handsome pair of men they were, and so different from each +other. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael’s clear voice startled her again out of her complacence. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank God there is not!” he said, and his tone had that in it that +made Starr sit up and put on all her dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed!” she said with asperity, her eyes flashing. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Miss Endicott,” Michael said sadly. “You do not +understand my feeling, of course!” +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly do not.” All Starr’s icicle sentences were +inherited from her mother. +</p> + +<p> +“And I cannot well explain,” he went on sadly. “I must ask +you to take it on trust. The favor I have come to ask is this, that you will +not have anything further to do with that young man until your father’s +return. I know this may seem very strange to you, but believe me if you +understood you would not hesitate to do what I have asked.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael held her with his look and with his earnest tones. For a moment she +could not speak from sheer astonishment at his audacity. Then she froze him +with a look copied from her mother’s haughty manner. +</p> + +<p> +“And what reason can you possibly give for such an extraordinary +request?” she asked at last, when his look compelled an answer. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot give you a reason,” he said gravely. “You must +trust me that this is best. Your father will explain to you when he +comes.” +</p> + +<p> +Another pause and then Starr haughtily asked: +</p> + +<p> +“And you really think that I would grant such a ridiculous request which +in itself implies a lack of trust in the character of one of my warmest +friends?” +</p> + +<p> +“I most earnestly hope that you will,” answered Michael. +</p> + +<p> +In spite of her hauteur she could not but be impressed by Michael’s +manner. His grave tones and serious eyes told hear heart that here was +something out of the ordinary, at least she gave Michael credit for thinking +there was. +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly shall not do anything of the kind without a good reason for +it.” Starr’s tone was determined and cold. +</p> + +<p> +“And I can give you no reason beyond telling you that he is not such a +man as a friend of yours should be.” +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Please do not ask me. Please trust me and give me your promise. At least +wait until I can write to your father.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr rose with a look of her father’s stubbornness now in her pretty +face. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish to be told,” she demanded angrily. +</p> + +<p> +“You would not wish to be told if you knew,” he answered. +</p> + +<p> +She stood looking at him steadily for a full moment, then with a graceful toss +of her lovely head, she said haughtily: +</p> + +<p> +“I must decline to accede to your request, Mr. Endicott. You will excuse +me, I have a luncheon engagement now.” +</p> + +<p> +She stood aside for him to go out the door, but as he rose with pleading still +in his eyes, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“You will write to your father and tell him what I have said? You will +wait until you hear from him?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is impossible, Mr. Endicott.” Starr’s tone was freezing +now, and he could see that she was very angry. “Mr. Carter is my +friend!” she flung at him as he passed her and went out into the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Another night of anguish brought Michael face to face with the necessity for an +interview with Starr’s mother. +</p> + +<p> +Taking his cue from the hour Starr had set for his call, he went a little +before eleven o’clock and sent up the card of the firm with his own name +written below; for he had very serious doubts of obtaining an interview at all +if the lady thought he might be there on his own business. +</p> + +<p> +It is doubtful whether Mrs. Endicott recognized the former “Mikky” +under the title written below his most respectable law firm’s name. Any +representative of Holt and Holt was to be recognized of course. She came down +within a half hour, quite graciously with lorgnette in her hand, until she had +reached the centre of the reception room where he had been put to await her. +Then Michael arose, almost from the same spot where she had addressed him +nearly four years before, the halo of the morning shining through the high +window on his hair, and with a start and stiffening of her whole form she +recognized him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it is <i>you</i>!” There was that in her tone that argued ill +for Michael’s mission, but with grave and gentle bearing he began: +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon for the intrusion. I would not have come if +there had been any other way. I tried to find Mr. Endicott but was told he had +sailed—” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t waste your time, and mine. I shall do nothing for you. +As I told you before, if I remember, I think far too much already has been done +for you and I never felt that you had the slightest claim upon our bounty. I +must refuse to hear any hard luck stories.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face was a study. Indignation, shame and pity struggled with a +sudden sense of the ridiculousness of the situation. +</p> + +<p> +What he did was to laugh, a rich, clear, musical laugh that stopped the +lady’s tirade better than he could have done it in any other way. +</p> + +<p> +“Well! Really! Have you come to insult me?” she said angrily. +“I will call a servant,” and she stepped curtly toward the bell. +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I beg your pardon,” said Michael quickly, grave at once. +“I intended no insult and I have come to ask no favor of you. I came +because of a serious matter, perhaps a grave danger to your home, which I +thought you should be made acquainted with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! Well, make haste,” said Mrs. Endicott, half mollified. +“My time is valuable. Has some one been planning to rob the house?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked straight in her face and told her briefly a few facts, +delicately worded, forcefully put, which would have convinced the heart of any +true mother that the man before her had none but pure motives. +</p> + +<p> +Not so this mother. The more Michael talked the stiffer, haughtier, more +hateful, grew her stare; and when he paused, thinking not to utterly overwhelm +her with his facts, she remarked, superciliously: +</p> + +<p> +“How could you possibly know all these things, unless you had been in the +same places where you claim Mr. Carter has been? But, oh, of course I forgot! +Your former home was there, and so of course you must have many friends +among—ah—<i>those people</i>!” She drew her mental skirts +away from contaminating contact as she spoke the last two words, and punctuated +them with a contemptuous look through the lorgnette. +</p> + +<p> +“But, my dear fellow,” she went on adopting the most outrageously +patronizing manner, “you should never trust those people. Of course you +don’t understand that, having been away from them so many years among +respectable folks, but they really do not know what the truth is. I doubt very +much whether there is a grain of foundation for all that you have been telling +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Madam, I have taken pains to look into the matter and I know that every +word which I have been telling you is true. Two of the most noted detectives of +the city have been making an investigation. I would not have ventured to come +if I had not had indisputable facts to give you.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott arose still holding the lorgnette to her eyes, though she showed +that the interview was drawing to a close: +</p> + +<p> +“Then young man,” she said, “it will be necessary for me to +tell you that the things you have been saying are not considered proper to +speak of before ladies in respectable society. I remember of course your low +origin and lack of breeding and forgive what otherwise I should consider an +insult. Furthermore, let me tell you, that it is not considered honorable to +investigate a gentleman’s private life too closely. All young men sow +their wild oats of course, and are probably none the worse for it. In fact, if +a man has not seen life he really is not worth much. It is his own affair, and +no business of yours. I must ask you to refrain from saying anything of this +matter to anyone. Understand? Not a word of it! My husband would be deeply +outraged to know that a young friend of his daughter’s, a man of +refinement and position, had been the object of scandal by one who should honor +anyone whom he honors. I really cannot spare any more time this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“But madam! You certainly do not mean that you will not investigate this +matter for yourself? You would not let your daughter accept such a man as her +friend—?” +</p> + +<p> +The lorgnette came into play again but its stare was quite ineffectual upon +Michael’s white earnest face. His deep eyes lit with horror at this +monstrous woman who seemed devoid of mother-love. +</p> + +<p> +“The time has come for you to stop. It is none of your business what I +mean. You have done what you thought was your duty by telling me, now put the +matter entirely out of your mind. Desist at once!” +</p> + +<p> +With a final stare she swept out of the room and up the broad staircase and +Michael, watching her until she was out of sight, went out of the house with +bowed head and burdened heart. Went out to write a letter to Starr’s +father, a letter which would certainly have performed its mission as his other +efforts had failed; but which because of a sudden and unexpected change of +address just missed him at every stopping place, as it travelled its silent +unfruitful way about the world after him, never getting anywhere until too +late. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap20"></a>Chapter XX</h3> + +<p> +Starr was very angry with Michael when he left her. There was perhaps more hurt +pride and pique in her anger than she would have cared to own. He had failed to +succumb to her charms, he had not seemed to notice her as other men did; he had +even lost the look of admiration he used to wear when they were boy and girl. +He had refused utterly to tell her what she had a great curiosity to know. +</p> + +<p> +She had been sure, was sure yet, that if Michael would tell her what he had +against Stuyvesant Carter she could explain it satisfactorily. Her flattered +little head was almost turned at this time with the adoration she had received. +She thought she knew almost everything that Stuyvesant Carter had ever done. He +was a fluent talker and had spent many hours detailing to her incidents and +anecdotes of his eventful career. He had raced a good deal and still had +several expensive racing cars. There wasn’t anything very dreadful about +that except, of course, it was dangerous. He used to gamble a great deal but he +had promised her he would never do it any more because she thought it +unrefined. Of course it wasn’t as though he hadn’t plenty of money; +and her mother had told her that all young men did those things. No, not her +father of course, for he had been unusual, but times were different nowadays. +Young men were expected to be a little wild. It was the influence of college +life and a progressive age she supposed. It didn’t do any harm. They +always settled down and made good husbands after they were married. Michael of +course did not understand these things. He had spent a great many years in +Florida with a dear old professor and a lot of good little boys. Michael was +unacquainted with the ways of the world. +</p> + +<p> +Thus she reasoned, yet nevertheless Michael’s warning troubled her and +finally she decided to go to the best source of information and ask the young +man himself. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly three days after Michael’s visit when he dropped in to ask if +she would go to the opera that evening with him instead of something else they +had planned to do together, she laughingly questioned him. +</p> + +<p> +“What in the world can you ever have done, Mr. Carter, that should make +you unfit company for me?” +</p> + +<p> +She asked the question lightly yet her eyes watched his face most closely as +she waited for the answer. +</p> + +<p> +The blood rolled in dark waves over his handsome face and his brows grew dark +with anger which half hid the start of almost fear with which he regarded her. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean, Starr?” He looked at her keenly and could not +tell if she were in earnest or not. +</p> + +<p> +“Just that,” she mocked half gravely. “Tell me what you have +been doing that should make you unfit company for me? Some one has been trying +to make me promise to have nothing to do with you, and I want to know what it +means.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who has been doing that?” There were dangerous lights in the dark +eyes, lights that showed the brutality of the coward and the evildoer. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a man!” said Starr provokingly; “but if you look like +that I shan’t tell you anything more about it, I don’t like you +now. You look as if you could eat me. You make me think there must be something +in it all.” +</p> + +<p> +Quick to take the warning the young man brought his face under control and +broke into a hoarse artificial laugh. A sudden vision of understanding had come +to him and a fear was in his heart. There was nothing like being bold and +taking the bull by the horns. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll wager I can explain the riddle for you,” he said +airily. “I lost my way the other evening coming home late. You see there +had been some mistake and my car didn’t come to the club for me. I +started on foot, leaving word for it to overtake me—” He lied as he +went along. He had had a short lifetime of practice and did it quite naturally +and easily, “and I was thinking about you and how soon I dared ask you a +certain question, when all at once I noticed that things seemed sort of +unfamiliar. I turned to go back but couldn’t for the life of me tell +which way I had turned at the last corner—you see what a dangerous +influence you have over me—and I wandered on and on, getting deeper and +deeper into things. It wasn’t exactly a savory neighborhood and I wanted +to get out as soon as possible for I suspected that it wasn’t even very +safe down there alone at that hour of the night. I was hesitating under a +street light close to a dark alley, trying to decide which would be the +quickest way out, and meditating what I should do to find a policeman, when +suddenly there loomed up beside me in the dark out of the depths of the alley a +great tall brute of a fellow with the strangest looking yellow hair and a body +that looked as if he could play football with the universe if he liked, and +charged me with having come down there to visit his girl. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, of course the situation wasn’t very pleasant. I tried to +explain that I was lost; that I had never been down in that quarter of the city +before and didn’t even know his girl. But he would listen to nothing. He +began to threaten me. Then I took out my card and handed it to him, most +unwisely of course, but then I am wholly unused to such situations, and I +explained to him just who I was and that of course I wouldn’t want to +come to see <i>his</i> girl, even if I would be so mean, and all that. But do +you believe me, that fellow wouldn’t take a word of it. He threw the card +on the sidewalk, ground his heel into it, and used all sorts of evil language +that I can’t repeat, and finally after I thought he was going to put me +in the ditch and pummel me he let me go, shouting after me that if I ever came +near his girl again he would publish it in the newspapers. Then of course I +understood what a foolish thing I had done in giving him my card. But it was +too late. I told him as politely as I knew how that if he would show me the way +to get home I would never trouble him again, and he finally let me go.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s eyes were all this time quizzically searching his face. +“Was the man intoxicated?” she asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I presume so, more or less. They all are down there, though he was +not of the slums himself I should say. He was rather well dressed, and probably +angry that I had discovered him in such haunts.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did this happen?” +</p> + +<p> +“About a week ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh I didn’t want to distress you, and besides, I’ve had my +mind too full of other things. Starr, darling, you must have seen all these +weeks how much I love you, and how I have only been waiting the proper +opportunity to ask you to be my wife—” +</p> + +<p> +Starr was in a measure prepared for this proposal. Her mother had instructed +her that the alliance was one wholly within the pale of wisdom; and her own +fancy was quite taken up with this handsome new admirer who flattered her +hourly and showered attentions upon her until she felt quite content with +herself the world and him. There was a spice of daring about Starr that liked +what she thought was the wildness and gaiety of young Carter, and she had quite +made up her mind to accept him. +</p> + +<p> +One week later the society papers announced the engagement, and the world of +gaiety was all in a flutter, over the many functions that were immediately set +agoing in their honor. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, at his desk in the busy office, read, and bowed his head in anguish. +Starr, his bright beautiful Starr, to be sacrificed to a beast like that! Would +that he might once more save her to life and happiness! +</p> + +<p> +For the next few days Michael went about in a state that almost bordered on the +frantic. His white face looked drawn, and his great eyes burned in their clear +setting like live coals. People turned to look after him on the street and +exclaimed: “Why, look at that man!” and yet he seemed more like an +avenging angel dropped down for some terrible errand than like a plain ordinary +man. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Holt noticed it and spoke to him about it. +</p> + +<p> +“You ought to drop work and take a good vacation, Endicott,” he +said kindly. “You’re in bad shape. You’ll break down and be +ill. If I were in your place I’d cancel the rent of that office and not +try to start out for yourself until fall. It’ll pay you in the end. +You’re taking things too seriously.” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael smiled and shook his head. He was to open his own office the +following week. It was all ready, with its simple furnishings, in marked +contrast to the rooms that would have been his if he had acceded to his +benefactor’s request. But Michael had lost interest in office and work +alike, and the room seemed now to him only a refuge from the eyes of men where +he might hide with his great sorrow and try to study out some way to save +Starr. Surely, surely, her father would do something when he received his +letter! It was long past, time for an answer to have come. But then there was +the hope that he was already doing something, though he was unwilling to afford +Michael the satisfaction of knowing it. +</p> + +<p> +He gave much thought to a possible cablegram, that he might send, that would +tell the story to the father while telling nothing to the world, but abandoned +the idea again and again. +</p> + +<p> +Sam came up from the farm and saw Michael’s face and was worried. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, pard, wot yer bin doin’ t’yersef? Better come down +t’ th’ farm an’ git a bit o’ fresh air.” +</p> + +<p> +The only two people who did not notice the change in Michael’s appearance +were Hester and Will. They were too much engrossed in each other by this time +to notice even Michael. +</p> + +<p> +They had fallen into the habit of leaving the rooms in the alley earlier than +Michael and going home by themselves. +</p> + +<p> +They left him thus one night about three weeks after Starr’s engagement +had been announced. Michael stayed in the room for an hour after all the others +had gone. He was expecting Sam to return. Sam had been up from the farm several +times lately and this time without any apparent reason he had lingered in the +city. He had not been to the room that night save for ten minutes early in the +evening when he had mumbled something about a little business, and said he +would be back before Michael left. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat for a long time, his elbow on the table, his head in his hands, +trying to think. A way had occurred to him which might or might not do +something to prevent Starr from throwing away her happiness. The morning paper +had hinted that plans for a speedy wedding were on foot. It was rumored that +Miss Endicott was to be married as soon as her father reached home. Michael was +desperate. He feared that now the father would arrive too late for him to get +speech with him. He had begun to know that it was hard to convince people of +the evil of those they had chosen as friends. It would take time. +</p> + +<p> +There was a way. He might have the whole story published in the papers. A +public scandal would doubtless delay if not altogether put a stop to this +alliance; but a public scandal that touched Mr. Carter would now also touch and +bring into publicity the girl whose life was almost linked with his. Not until +the very last resort would Michael bring about that publicity. That such a move +on his part would beget him the eternal enmity of the entire Endicott family he +did not doubt, but that factor figured not at all in Michael’s +calculations. He was not working for himself in this affair. Nothing that ever +happened could make things right for him, he felt, and what was his life, or +good name even, beside Starr’s happiness? +</p> + +<p> +Wearily, at last, his problem unsolved, he got up and turned out the lights. As +he was locking the door his attention was arrested by two figures standing +between himself and the street light at the end of the alley. It was a man and +a woman, and the woman seemed to be clinging to the man and pleading with him. +</p> + +<p> +Such sights were not uncommon in the alley; some poor woman often thus appealed +to all that used to be good in the man she married, to make him stay away from +the saloon, or to give her a little of his money to buy food for the children. +</p> + +<p> +More than once in such instances Michael had been able successfully to add his +influence to the wife’s and get the man to go quietly home. +</p> + +<p> +He put the key hastily in his pocket and hurried toward the two. +</p> + +<p> +“You shan’t! You shan’t! You shan’t never go back to +her!” he heard the woman cry fiercely. “You promised +me—” +</p> + +<p> +“Shut up, will you? I don’t care what I promised—” said +the man in a guarded voice that Michael felt sure he had heard before. +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t shut up! I’ll holler ef you go, so the +police’ll come. You’ve got a right to stay with me. You +shan’t do me no wrong ner you shan’t go back to that stuck-up +piece. You’re mine, I say, and you promised—!” +</p> + +<p> +With a curse the man struck her a cruel blow across the mouth, and tried to +tear her clinging hands away from his coat, but they only clung the more +fiercely. +</p> + +<p> +Michael sprang to the woman’s side like a panther. +</p> + +<p> +“Look out!” he said in clear tones. “You can’t strike a +woman!” His voice was low and calm, and sounded as it used to sound on +the ball field when he was giving directions to his team at some crisis in the +game. +</p> + +<p> +“Who says I can’t?” snarled the man, and now Michael was sure +he knew the voice. Then the wretch struck the woman between her eyes and she +fell heavily to the ground. +</p> + +<p> +Like a flash Michael’s great arm went out and felled the man, and in the +same breath, from the shadows behind there sprang out the slender, wiry figure +of Sam and flung itself upon the man on the ground who with angry imprecations +was trying to struggle to his feet. His hand had gone to an inner pocket, as he +fell and in a moment more there was a flash of light and Michael felt a bullet +whiz by his ear. Nothing but the swerving of the straggling figures had saved +it from going through his brain. It occurred to Michael in that instant that +that was what had been intended. The conviction that the man had also +recognized him gave strength to his arm as he wrenched the revolver from the +hand of the would-be assassin. Nobody knew better than Michael how easy it +would be to plead “self-defense” if the fellow got into any +trouble. A man in young Carter’s position with wealth and friends galore +need not fear to wipe an unknown fellow out of existence; a fellow whose +friends with few exceptions were toughs and jail birds and ex-criminals of all +sorts. +</p> + +<p> +It was just as he gave Carter’s wrist the twist that sent the revolver +clattering to the ground beside the unconscious woman that Michael heard the +hurried footsteps of the officer of the law accompanied by a curious motley +crowd who had heard the pistol shot and come to see what new excitement life +offered for their delectation. He suddenly realized how bad matters would look +for Sam if he should be found in the embrace of one of Society’s pets who +would all too surely have a tale to tell that would clear himself regardless of +others. Michael had no care for himself. The police all about that quarter knew +him well, and were acquainted with his work. They looked upon him with almost +more respect than they gave the priests and deaconesses who went about their +errands of mercy; for Michael’s spirit-look of being more than man, and +the stories that were attached to his name in the alley filled them with a +worshipful awe. There was little likelihood of trouble for Michael with any of +the officers he knew. But Sam was another proposition. His life had not all +been strictly virtuous in the past, and of late he had been away in New Jersey +so much that he was little known, and would be at once suspected of having been +the cause of the trouble. Besides, the woman lay unconscious at their feet! +</p> + +<p> +With a mighty effort Michael now reached forth and plucked Sam, struggling +fiercely, from the arms of his antagonist and put him behind him in the +doorway, standing firmly in front. Carter thus released, sprawled for an +instant in the road, then taking advantage of the momentary release struggled +to his feet and fled in the opposite direction from that in which the officers +were approaching. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me go! I must get him!” muttered Sam pushing fiercely to get +by Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sam, stay where you are and keep quiet. You’ll gain nothing by +running after him. You’ll only get into trouble yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t care!” said Sam frantically, “I don’t +care what happens to me. I’ll kill him. He stole my girl!” +</p> + +<p> +But Michael stood before him like a wail of adamant in the strength that was +his for the extremity. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sam, my poor fellow. I know,” said Michael gently, sadly. +“I know, Sam. He stole mine too!” +</p> + +<p> +Sam subsided as if he had been struck, a low awful curse upon his lips, his +face pale and baleful. +</p> + +<p> +“You, too?” The yearning tenderness went to Michael’s heart +like sweet salve, even in the stress of the moment. They were brothers in +sorrow, and their brotherhood saved Sam from committing a crime. +</p> + +<p> +Then the police and crowd swept up breathless. +</p> + +<p> +“What does all this mean?” panted a policeman touching his cap +respectfully to Michael. “Some one been shooting?” +</p> + +<p> +He stooped and peered into the white face of the still unconscious woman, and +then looked suspiciously toward Sam who was standing sullenly behind Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s all right,” smiled Michael throwing an arm across +Sam’s shoulder, “He only came in to help me when he saw I was +having a hard time of it. The fellow made off in that direction.” Michael +pointed after Carter whose form had disappeared in the darkness. +</p> + +<p> +“Any of the gang?” asked the officer as he hurried away. +</p> + +<p> +“No!” said Michael. “He doesn’t belong here!” +</p> + +<p> +One officer hurried away accompanied by a crowd, the other stayed to look after +the woman. He touched the woman with his foot as he might have tapped a dying +dog to see if there was still life there. A low growl like a fierce animal came +from Sam’s closed lips. +</p> + +<p> +Michael put a warning hand upon, his arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Steady, Sam, steady!” he murmured, and went himself and lifted the +poor pretty head of the girl from its stony pillow. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you’d better send for the ambulance,” he said to the +officer. “She’s had a heavy blow on her head. I arrived just in +time to see the beginning of the trouble—” +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t she dead?” said the officer indifferently. “Best +get her into her house. Don’t reckon they want to mess up the hospital +with such cattle as this.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael caught the fierce gleam in Sam’s eyes. A second more would have +seen the officer lying beside the girl in the road and a double tragedy to the +record of that night; for Sam was crouched and moving stealthily like a cat +toward the officer’s back, a look of almost insane fury upon his small +thin face. It was Michael’s steady voice that recalled him to sanity once +more, just as many a time in the midst of a game he had put self-control and +courage into the hearts of his team. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, could you come here and hold her head a minute, while I try to get +some water? Yes, officer, I think she is living, and she should be got to the +hospital as soon as possible. Please give the call at once.” +</p> + +<p> +The officer sauntered off to do his bidding. Michael and Sam began working over +the unconscious girl, and the crowd stood idly round waiting until the +ambulance rattled up. They watched with awe as the form of the woman was lifted +in and Michael and Sam climbed up on the front seat with the driver and rode +away; then they drifted away to their several beds and the street settled into +its brief night respite. +</p> + +<p> +The two young men waited at the hospital for an hour until a white-capped nurse +came to tell them that Lizzie had recovered consciousness, and there was hope +of her life. Then they went out into the late night together. +</p> + +<p> +“Sam, you’re coming home with me tonight!” Michael put his +arm affectionately around Sam’s shoulders, “You never would come +before, but you must come tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam, looking into the other’s face for an instant, saw that in +Michael’s suffering eyes that made him yield. +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t fit!” Sam murmured as they walked along silently +together. It was the first hint that Sam had ever given that he was not every +whit as good as Michael; and Michael with rare tact had never by a glance let +Sam know how much he wished to have him cleaner, and more suitably garbed. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, we’ll make that all right!” said Michael fervently +thankful that at last the time had come for the presentation of the neat and +fitting garments which he had purchased some weeks before for a present for +Sam, and which had been waiting for a suitable opportunity of presentation. +</p> + +<p> +The dawn was hovering in the East when Michael led Sam up to his own room, and +throwing wide the door of his own little private bath-room told Sam to take a +hot bath, it would make him feel better. +</p> + +<p> +While Sam was thus engaged Michael made a compact bundle of Sam’s old +garments, and stealing softly to the back hall window, landed them by a neat +throw on the top of the ash barrel in the court below. Sam’s clothes +might see the alley again by way of the ash man, but never on Sam’s back. +</p> + +<p> +Quite late that very same morning, when Sam, clothed and in a new and righter +mind than ever before in his life, walked down with Michael to breakfast, and +was introduced as “my friend Mr. Casey” to the landlady, who was +hovering about the now deserted breakfast table; he looked every inch of him a +respectable citizen. Not handsome and distinguished like Michael, of course, +but quite unnoticeable, and altogether proper as a guest at the respectable +breakfast table of Mrs. Semple. +</p> + +<p> +Michael explained that they had been detained out late the night before by an +accident, and Mrs. Semple gave special orders for a nice breakfast to be served +to Mr. Endicott and his friend, and said it wasn’t any trouble at all. +</p> + +<p> +People always thought it was no trouble to do things for Michael. +</p> + +<p> +While they ate, Michael arranged with Sam to take a trip out to see Buck. +</p> + +<p> +“I was expecting to go this morning,” he said. “I had my +plans all made. They write me that Buck is getting uneasy and they wish +I’d come, but now”—he looked meaningly at Sam—“I +think I ought to stay here for a little. Could you go in my place? There are +things here I must attend to.” +</p> + +<p> +Sam looked, and his face grew dark with sympathy. He understood. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll keep you informed about Lizzie,” went on Michael with +delicate intuition, “and anyway you couldn’t see her for sometime, +I think if you try you could help Buck as much as I. He needs to understand +that breaking laws is all wrong. That it doesn’t pay in the end, and that +there has got to be a penalty—you know. You can make him see things in a +new way if you try. Are you willing to go, Sam?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll go,” said Sam briefly, and Michael knew he would do his +best. It might be that Sam’s change of viewpoint would have more effect +upon Buck than anything Michael could say. For it was an open secret between +Sam and Michael now that Sam stood for a new order of things and that the old +life, so far as he was concerned, he had put away. +</p> + +<p> +And so Sam was got safely away from the danger spot, and Michael stayed to face +his sorrow, and the problem of how to save Starr. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap21"></a>Chapter XXI</h3> + +<p> +The papers the next morning announced that Mr. Stuyvesant Carter while taking a +short cut through the lower quarter of the city, had been cruelly attacked, +beaten and robbed, and had barely escaped with his life. +</p> + +<p> +He was lying in his rooms under the care of a trained nurse, and was recovering +as rapidly as could be expected from the shock. +</p> + +<p> +Michael reading it next morning after seeing Sam off to Kansas, lifted his head +with that quiet show of indignation. He knew that the message must have been +telephoned to the paper by Carter himself shortly after he had escaped from the +police. He saw just how easy it was for him to give out any report he chose. +Money and influence would buy even the public press. It would be little use to +try to refute anything he chose to tell about himself. +</p> + +<p> +The days that followed were to Michael one long blur of trouble. He haunted Mr. +Endicott’s office in hopes of getting some news of his return but they +told him the last letters had been very uncertain. He might come quickly, and +he might be delayed a month yet, or even longer; and a cablegram might not +reach him much sooner than a letter, as he was travelling from place to place. +</p> + +<p> +After three days of this agony, knowing that the enemy would soon be recovering +from his bruises and be about again, he reluctantly wrote a note to Starr: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +My dear Miss Endicott:<br> + At the risk of offending you I feel that I must make one more attempt to +save you from what I feel cannot but be great misery. The young man of whom we +were speaking has twice to my knowledge visited a young woman of the slums +within the last month, and has even since your engagement been maintaining an +intimacy with her which can be nothing but an insult to you. Though you may not +believe me, it gives me greater pain to tell you this than anything I ever had +to do before, I have tried in every way I know to communicate with your father, +but have thus far failed. I am writing you thus plainly and painfully, hoping +that though you will not take my word for it, you will at least be willing to +find some trustworthy intimate friend of your family in whom you can confide, +who will investigate this matter for you, and give you his candid opinion of +the young man. I can furnish such a man with information as to where to go to +get the facts. I know that what I have said is true. I beg for the sake of your +future happiness that you will take means to discover for yourself. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +Faithfully yours,<br> +Michael +</p> + +<p> +To this note, within two days, he received a condescending, patronizing reply: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Michael:<br> + I am exceedingly sorry that you have lent yourself to means so low to +accomplish your end, whatever that may be. It is beyond me to imagine what +possible motive you can have for all this ridiculous calumny that you are +trying to cast on one who has shown a most noble spirit toward you.<br> + Mr. Carter has fully explained to me his presence at the home of that girl, +and because you seem to really believe what you have written me, and because I +do not like to have <i>anyone</i> think evil of the man whom I am soon to +marry, I am taking the trouble to explain to you. The young woman is a former +maid of Mr. Carter’s mother, and she is deeply attached to her. She does +up Mrs. Carter’s fine laces exquisitely, and Mr. Carter has twice been +the bearer of laces to be laundered, because his mother was afraid to trust +such valuable pieces to a servant. I hope you will now understand that the +terrible things you have tried to say against Mr. Carter are utterly false. +Such things are called blackmail and bring terrible consequences in court I am +told if they become known, so I must warn you never to do anything of this sort +again. It is dangerous. If my father were at home he would explain it to you. +Of course, having been in that out-of-the-way Florida place for so long you +don’t understand these things, but for papa’s sake I would not like +you to get into trouble in any way.<br> + There is one more thing I must say. Mr. Carter tells me that he saw you +down in that questionable neighborhood, and that you are yourself interested in +this girl. It seems strange when this is the case, that you should have thought +so ill of him.<br> + Trusting that you will cause me no further annoyance in this matter, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +S.D. Endicott. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael had read this he bowed himself upon his desk as one who had been +stricken unto death. To read such words from her whom he loved better than his +own soul was terrible! And he might never let her know that these things that +had been said of him were false. She would probably go always with the idea +that his presence in that alley was a matter of shame to him. So far as his +personal part in the danger to herself was concerned, he was from this time +forth powerless to help her. If she thought such things of him,—if she +had really been made to believe them,—then of course she could credit +nothing he told her. Some higher power than his would have to save her if she +was to be saved. +</p> + +<p> +To do Starr justice she had been very much stirred by Michael’s note, and +after a night of wakefulness and meditation had taken the letter to her mother. +Not that Starr turned naturally to her most unnatural mother for help in +personal matters usually; but there seemed to be no one else to whom she could +go. If only her father had been home! She thought of cabling him, but what +could she say in a brief message? How could she make him understand? And then +there was always the world standing by to peer curiously over one’s +shoulder when one sent a message. She could not hope to escape the public eye. +</p> + +<p> +She considered showing Michael’s note to Morton, her faithful nurse, but +Morton, wise in many things, would not understand this matter, and would be +powerless to help her. So Starr had gone to her mother. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott, shrewd to perfection, masked her indignation under a very proper +show of horror, told Starr that of course it was not true, but equally of +course it must be investigated; gave her word that she would do so immediately +and her daughter need have no further thought of the matter; sent at once for +young Carter with whom she held a brief consultation at the end of which Starr +was called and cheerfully given the version of the story which she had written +to Michael. +</p> + +<p> +Stuyvesant Carter could be very alluring when he tried, and he chose to try. +The stakes were a fortune, a noble name, and a very pretty girl with whom he +was as much in love at present as he ever had been in his checkered career, +with any girl. Moreover he had a nature that held revenge long. He delighted to +turn the story upon the man who pretended to be so righteous and who had dared +to give him orders about a poor worthless girl of the slums. He set his cunning +intellect to devise a scheme whereby his adversary should be caught in his own +net and brought low. He found a powerful ally in the mother of the girl he was +to marry. +</p> + +<p> +For reasons of ambition Mrs. Endicott desired supremely an alliance with the +house of Carter, and she was most determined that nothing should upset her +plans for her only daughter’s marriage. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that if her husband should return and hear any hint of the story about +Carter he would at once put an end to any relations between him and Starr. He +had always been “queer” about such things, and +“particular,” as she phrased it. It would be mortifying beyond +anything to have any balk in the arrangements after things had gone thus far; +and there was that hateful Mrs. Waterman, setting her cap for him so odiously +everywhere even since the engagement had been announced. Mrs. Endicott intended +to risk nothing. Therefore she planned with the young people for an early +marriage. She was anxious to have everything so thoroughly cut and dried, and +matters gone so far that her husband could not possibly upset them when he +returned. Finally she cabled him, asking him to set a positive date for his +home-coming as the young people wished to arrange for an early wedding. He +cabled back a date not so very far off, for in truth, though he had received +none of Michael’s warnings he was uneasy about this matter of his +daughter’s engagement. Young Carter had of course seemed all right, and +he saw no reason to demur when his wife wrote that the two young people had +come to an understanding, but somehow it had not occurred to him that the +marriage would be soon. He was troubled at thought of losing the one bright +treasure of his home, when he had but just got her back again from her European +education. He felt that it was unfortunate that imperative business had called +him abroad almost as soon as she returned. He was in haste to be back. +</p> + +<p> +But when his wife followed her cable message with a letter speaking of an +immediate marriage and setting a date but four days after the time set for his +arrival, he cabled to her to set no date until his return, which would be as +soon as he could possibly come. +</p> + +<p> +However, Mrs. Endicott had planned well. The invitations had been sent out that +morning. She thought it unnecessary to cable again but wrote, “I’m +sorry, but your message came too late. The invitations are all out now, and +arrangements going forward. I knew you would not want to stop Starr’s +plans and she seems to have her heart set on being married at once. Dear +Stuyvesant finds it imperative to take an ocean trip and he cannot bear the +thought of going without his wife. I really do not see how things could +possibly be held off now. We should be the laughing stock of society and I am +sure you would not want me to endure that. And Starr, dear child, is quite +childishly happy over her arrangements. She is only anxious to have you +properly home in time, so do hurry and get an earlier boat if possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Over this letter Mr. Endicott frowned and looked troubled. His wife had ever +taken things in her own hands where she would; but concerning Starr they had +never quite agreed, though he had let her have her own way about everything +else. It was like her to get this marriage all fixed up while he was away. Of +course it must be all right, but it was so sudden! And his little Starr! His +one little girl! +</p> + +<p> +Then, with his usual abrupt action he put the letter in his inner pocket and +proceeded to hurry his business as much as possible that he might take an +earlier boat than the one he had set. And he finally succeeded by dint of +working night as well as day, and leaving several important matters to go as +they would. +</p> + +<p> +The papers at last announced that Mr. Delevan Endicott who had been abroad for +three months on business had sailed for home and would reach New York nearly a +week before the date set for the wedding. The papers also were filled with +elaborate foreshadowings of what that event was likely to mean to the world of +society. +</p> + +<p> +And Michael, knowing that he must drink every drop of his bitter cup, knowing +that he must suffer and endure to the end of it, if perchance he might yet save +her in some miraculous way, read every word, and knew the day and the hour of +the boat’s probable arrival. He had it all planned to meet that boat +himself. If possible he would go out on the pilot and meet his man before he +landed. +</p> + +<p> +Then the silence of the great deep fell about the traveller; and the days went +by with the waiting one in the city; the preparations hurried forward by +trained and skilful workers. The Endicott home was filled with comers and +goers. Silks and satins and costly fabrics, laces and jewels and rare trimmings +from all over the world were brought together by hands experienced in costuming +the great of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +Over the busy machinery which she had set going, Mrs. Endicott presided with +the calmness and positive determination of one who had a great purpose in view +and meant to carry it out. Not a detail escaped, her vigilant eye, not an item +was forgotten of all the millions of little necessities that the world expected +and she must have forthcoming. Nothing that could make the wedding unique, +artistic, perfect, was too hard or too costly to be carried out. This was her +pinnacle of opportunity to shine, and Mrs. Endicott intended to make the most +of it. Not that she had not shone throughout her worldly career, but she knew +that with the marriage of her daughter her life would reach its zenith point +and must henceforth begin to decline. This event must be one to be remembered +in the annals of the future so long as New York should continue to marry and be +given in marriage. Starr’s wedding must surpass all others in wonder and +beauty and elegance. +</p> + +<p> +So she planned, wrought, carried out; and day by day the gleam in her eyes told +that she was nearing her triumph. +</p> + +<p> +It did not disturb her when the steamer was overdue one whole day, and then +two. Starr, even amid the round of gaieties in her young set, all given in her +honor, found time to worry about her father; but the wife only found in this +fact a cause for congratulation. She felt instinctively that her crucial time +was coming when her husband reached home. If Michael had dared to carry out his +threats, or if a breath of the stories concerning young Carter’s life +should reach him there would be trouble against which she had no power. +</p> + +<p> +It was not until the third morning with still no news of the vessel that Mrs. +Endicott began to feel uneasy. It would be most awkward to have to put off the +ceremony, and of course it would not do to have it without the bride’s +father when he was hurrying to be present. If he would arrive just in time so +much the better; but late—ah—that would be dreadful! She tightened +her determined lips, and looked like a Napoleon saying to herself, “There +shall be no Alps!” In like manner she would have said if she could: +“There shall be no sea if I wish it.” +</p> + +<p> +But the anxiety she felt was only manifested by her closer vigilance over her +helpers as swiftly and hourly the perfected preparations glided to their +finish. +</p> + +<p> +Starr grew nervous and restless and could not sleep, but hovered from room to +room in the daytime looking out of the windows, or fitfully telephoning the +steamship company for news. Her fiancé found her most unsatisfactory and none +of the plans he proposed for her diversion pleased her. Dark rings appeared +under her eyes, and she looked at him with a troubled expression sometimes when +she should have been laughing in the midst of a round of pleasures. +</p> + +<p> +Starr deeply loved her father, and some vague presentiment of coming trouble +seemed to shadow all the brightness of life. Now and then Michael’s face +with its great, true eyes, and pleading expression came between her and +Carter’s face, and seemed to blur its handsome lines; and then indefinite +questions haunted her. What if those terrible things Michael had said were +true? Was she sure, <i>sure</i>? And at times like that she fancied she saw a +weakness in the lines about Carter’s eyes and mouth. +</p> + +<p> +But she was most unused to studying character, poor child, and had no guide to +help her in her lonely problem of choosing; for already she had learned that +her mother’s ways and hers were not the same; and—her +father—did not come. When he came it would be all right. It had to be, +for there was no turning back, of course, now. The wedding was but two days +off. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, in his new office, frankly acknowledged to himself these days that he +could not work. He had done all that he could and now was waiting for a report +of that vessel. When it landed he hoped to be the first man on board; in fact, +he had made arrangement to go out to meet it before it landed. But it did not +come! Was it going to be prevented until the day was put off? Would that make +matters any better? Would he then have more time? And could he accomplish +anything with Mr. Endicott, even, supposing he had time? Was he not worse than +foolish to try? Mr. Endicott was already angry with him for another reason. His +wife and Starr, and that scoundrel of a Carter, would tell all sorts of +stories. Of course he would believe them in preference to his! He groaned aloud +sometimes, when, he was alone in the office: and wished that there were but a +way he could fling himself between Starr and all evil once for all; give his +life for hers. Gladly, gladly would he do it if it would do any good. Yet there +was no way. +</p> + +<p> +And then there came news. The vessel had been heard from still many miles out +to sea, with one of her propellers broken, and laboring along at great +disadvantage. But if all went well she would reach her dock at noon of the +following day—eight hours before the time set for the wedding! +</p> + +<p> +Starr heard and her face blossomed, into smiles. All would go well after all. +She telephoned again to the steamship company a little while later and her +utmost fears were allayed by their assurances. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Endicott heard the news with intense relief. Her husband would scarcely +have time to find out anything. She must take pains that he had no opportunity +to see Michael before the ceremony. +</p> + +<p> +The young man heard and his heart beat wildly. Would the time be long enough to +save her? +</p> + +<p> +Noon of the next day came, but the steamer had not yet landed, though the news +from her was good. She would be in before night, there was no doubt of it now. +Mr. Endicott would be in time for the wedding, but just that and no more. He +had sent reassurances to his family, and they were going forward happily in the +whirl of the last things. +</p> + +<p> +But Michael in his lonely office hung up the telephone receiver with a heavy +heart. There would be no time now to save Starr. Everything was against him. +Even if he could get speech of Mr. Endicott which was doubtful now, was it +likely the man would listen at this the last minute? Of course his wife and +daughter and her fiancé could easily persuade him all was well, and Michael a +jealous fool! +</p> + +<p> +As he sat thus with bowed head before his desk, he heard footsteps along the +stone floor of the corridor outside. They halted at his door, and hesitating +fingers fumbled with the knob. He looked up frowning and was about to send any +chance client away, with the explanation that he was entirely too much occupied +at present to be interrupted, when the face of the woman who opened the door +caught his attention. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap22"></a>Chapter XXII</h3> + +<p> +It was Lizzie, with her baby in her arms; the girl he had defended in the +alley, and whose face he had last seen lying white and unconscious in the +moonlight, looking ghastly enough with the dark hair flung back against the +harsh pillow of stone. +</p> + +<p> +The face was white now, but softened with the beauty of motherhood. The bold, +handsome features had somehow taken on a touch of gentleness, though there +glowed and burned in her dark eyes a fever of passion and unrest. +</p> + +<p> +She stood still for a moment looking at Michael after she had closed the door, +and was holding the baby close as if fearing there might be some one there who +was minded to take it from her. +</p> + +<p> +As Michael watched her, fascinated, cut to the heart by the dumb suffering in +her eyes, he was reminded of one of the exquisite Madonnas he had seen in an +exhibition not long ago. The draperies had been dainty and cloud-like, and the +face refined and wonderful in its beauty, but there had been the same sorrowful +mother-anguish in the eyes. It passed through his mind that this girl and he +were kin because of a mutual torture. His face softened, and he felt a great +pity for her swelling in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes wandered to the little upturned face of the baby wrapped close in the +shabby shawl against its mother’s breast. It was a very beautiful little +sleeping face, with a look still of the spirit world from which it had but +recently come. There was something almost unearthly in its loveliness, +appealing even in its sleep, with its innocent baby curves and outlines. A +little stranger soul, whose untried feet had wandered into unwelcome quarters +where sorrows and temptations were so thickly strewn that it could not hope to +escape them. +</p> + +<p> +What had the baby come for? To make one more of the swarming mass of sinful +wretches who crowded the alley? Would those cherub lips half-parted now in a +seraphic smile live to pour forth blasphemous curses as he had heard even very +small children in the alley? Would that tiny sea-shell hand, resting so +trustingly against the coarse cloth of its mother’s raiment, looking like +a rosebud gone astray, live to break open safes and take their contents? Would +the lovely little soft round body whose tender curves showed pitifully beneath +the thin old shawl, grow up to lie in the gutter some day? The problem of the +people had never come to Michael so forcibly, so terribly as in that moment +before Lizzie spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“Be you a real lawyer?” she asked. “Kin you tell what the law +is ’bout folks and thin’s?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled and rose to give her a chair as courteously as though she had +been a lady born. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down,” he said. “Yes, I am a lawyer. What can I do for +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I s’pose you charge a lot,” said the girl with a meaning +glance around the room. “You’ve got thin’s fixed fine as silk +here. But I’ll pay anythin’ you ast ef it takes me a lifetime to do +it, ef you’ll jest tell me how I kin git my rights.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your rights?” questioned Michael sadly. Poor child! <i>Had</i> she +any rights in the universe that he could help her to get? The only rights he +knew for such as she were room in a quiet graveyard and a chance to be +forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, ain’t it against the law fer a man to marry a woman when +he’s already got one wife?” +</p> + +<p> +“It is,” said Michael, “unless he gets a divorce.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I ain’t goin’ to give him no divorce, you bet!” +said the girl fiercely. “I worked hard enough to get a real marriage +an’ I ain’t goin’ to give up to no fash’nable swell. +I’m’s good’s she is, an’ I’ve got my rights an +I’ll hev ’em. An’ besides, there’s baby—!” +Her face softened and took on a love light; and immediately Michael was +reminded of the madonna picture again. “I’ve got to think o’ +him!” Michael marvelled to see that the girl was revelling in her +possession, of the little helpless burden who had been the cause of her sorrow. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me about it.” His voice was very gentle. He recalled suddenly +that this was Sam’s girl. Poor Sam, too! The world was a terribly tangled +mess of trouble. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, there ain’t much to tell that counts, only he kep’ +comp’ny with me, an’ I wouldn’t hev ennythin’ else but +a real marriage, an’ so he giv in, an’ we hed a couple o’ +rooms in a real respectable house an’ hed it fine till he had to go away +on business, he said. I never b’leeved that. Why he was downright rich. +He’s a real swell, you know. What kind o’ business cud he +have?” Lizzie straightened herself proudly and held her head high. +</p> + +<p> +“About whom are you talking?” asked Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, my husband, ’course, Mr. Sty-ve-zant Carter. You ken see his +name in the paper real often. He didn’t want me to know his real name. He +hed me call him Dan Hunt fer two months, but I caught on, an’ he was real +mad fer a while. He said his ma didn’t like the match, an’ he +didn’t want folks to know he’d got married, it might hurt him with +some of his swell friends—” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t mean to tell me that Mr. Stuyvesant Carter ever really +married you!” said Michael incredulously. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Lizzie proudly, “married me jest like enny +swell; got me a dimon ring an’ a silk lined suit an’ a willer plume +an everythin’.” Lizzie held up a grimy hand on which Michael saw a +showy glitter of jewelry. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you anything to show for it?” asked Michael, expecting her of +course to say no. “Have you any certificate or paper to prove that you +were married according to law?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” said Lizzie triumphantly, drawing forth a crumpled roll +from the folds of her dress and smoothing it out before his astonished eyes. +</p> + +<p> +There it was, a printed wedding certificate, done in blue and gold with a +colored picture of two clasped hands under a white dove with a gold ring in its +beak. Beneath was an idealized boat with silken sails bearing two people down a +rose-lined river of life; and the whole was bordered with orange blossoms. It +was one of those old-fashioned affairs that country ministers used to give +their parishioners in the years gone by, and are still to be had in some dusty +corners of a forgotten drawer in country book stores. But Michael recognized at +once that it was a real certificate. He read it carefully. The blanks were all +filled in, the date she gave of the marriage was there, and the name of the +bridegroom though evidently written in a disguised hand could be deciphered: +“Sty. Carter.” Michael did not recognize the names of either the +witnesses or the officiating minister. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you happen to have Mr. Carter’s real name here when you say +he married you under an assumed name?” he asked moving his finger +thoughtfully over the blurred name that had evidently been scratched out and +written over again. +</p> + +<p> +“I made him put it in after I found out who he was,” said Lizzie. +“He couldn’t come it over me thet-a-way. He was awful gone on me +then, an’ I cud do most ennythin’ with him. It was ’fore she +cum home from Europe! She jes’ went fer him an’ turned his head. Ef +I’d a-knowed in time I’d gone an’ tole her, but land sakes! I +don’t ’spose ’twould a done much good. I would a-ben to her +before, only I was fool ’nough to promise him I wouldn’t say +nothin’ to her ef he’d keep away from her. You see I needed money +awful bad fer baby. He don’t take to livin’ awful good. He cries a +lot an’ I hed to hev thin’s fer ’im, so I threatened him ef +he didn’t do sompin’ I’d go tell her; an’ he up +an’ forked over, but not till I promised. But now they say the papers is +tellin’ he’s to marry her tonight, an’ I gotta stop it +somehow. I got my rights an’ baby’s to look after, promise er no +promise, Ken I get him arrested?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not sure what you can do until I look into the matter,” +Michael said gravely. Would the paper he held help or would it not, in his +mission to Starr’s father? And would it be too late? His heavy heart +could not answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know these witnesses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure.” said Lizzie confidently. “They’re all swells. +They come down with him when he come to be married. I never seen ’em +again, but they was real jolly an’ nice. They give me a bokay of real +roses an’ a bracelet made like a snake with green glass eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the minister? Which is his church?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I donno,” said Lizzie. “I never ast. He Come +along an’ was ez jolly ez enny of ’em. He drank more’n all of +’em put together. He was awful game fer a preacher.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s heart began to sink. Was this a genuine marriage after all? +Could anything be proved? He questioned the girl carefully, and after a few +minutes sent her on her way promising to do all in his power to help her and +arranging to let her know as soon as possible if there was anything she could +do. +</p> + +<p> +That was a busy afternoon for Michael. The arrival of the steamer was +forgotten. His telephone rang vainly on his desk to a silent room. He was out +tramping over the city in search of the witnesses and the minister who had +signed Lizzie’s marriage certificate. +</p> + +<p> +Meantime the afternoon papers came out with a glowing account of the wedding +that was to be, headed by the pictures of Starr and Mr. Carter, for the wedding +was a great event in society circles. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie on her hopeful way back to the alley, confident that Michael, the angel +of the alley, would do something for her, heard the boys crying the afternoon +edition of the paper, and was seized with a desire to see if her +husband’s picture would be in again. She could ill spare the penny from +her scanty store that she spent for it, but then, what was money in a case like +this? Michael would do something for her and she would have more money. +Besides, if worst came to worst she would go to the fine lady and threaten to +make it all public, and she would give her money. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie had had more advantages than most of her class in the alley. She had +worked in a seashore restaurant several summers and could read a little. From +the newspaper account she gathered enough to rouse her half-soothed frenzy. Her +eyes flashed fire as she went about her dark little tenement room making baby +comfortable. His feeble wail and his sweet eyes looking into hers only fanned +the fury of her flame. She determined not to wait for Michael, but to go on her +own account at once to that girl that was stealing away her husband, her +baby’s father, and tell her what she was doing. +</p> + +<p> +With the cunning of her kind Lizzie dressed herself in her best; a soiled pink +silk shirtwaist with elbow sleeves, a spotted and torn black skirt that showed +a tattered orange silk petticoat beneath its ungainly length, a wide white hat +with soiled and draggled willow plume of Alice blue, and high-heeled pumps run +over on their uppers. If she had but known it she looked ten times better in +the old Madonna shawl she had worn to Michael’s office, but she took +great satisfaction in being able to dress appropriately when she went to the +swells. +</p> + +<p> +The poor baby she wrapped in his soiled little best, and pinned a large untidy +pink satin bow on the back of his dirty little blanket. Then she started on her +mission. +</p> + +<p> +Now Starr had just heard that her father’s vessel would be at the dock in +a trifle over an hour and her heart was light and happy. Somehow all her +misgivings seemed to flee away, now that he was coming. She flew from one room +to another like a wild bird, trilling snatches of song, and looking prettier +than ever. +</p> + +<p> +“Aw, the wee sweet bairnie!” murmured the old Scotch nurse. +“If only her man will be gude to her!” +</p> + +<p> +There was some special bit of Starr’s attire for the evening that had not +arrived. She was in a twitter of expectancy about it, to be sure it pleased +her, and when she heard the bell she rushed to the head of the stairs and was +half-way down to see if it had come, when the servant opened the door to Lizzie +and her baby. +</p> + +<p> +One second more and the door would have closed hopelessly on poor Lizzie, for +no servant in that house would have thought of admitting such a creature to the +presence of their lady a few hours before her wedding; but Starr, poised +half-way on the landing, called, “What is it, Graves, some one to see +me?” +</p> + +<p> +“But she’s not the sort of person—Miss Starr!” +protested Graves with the door only open a crack now. +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Graves, I’ll see her for a minute. I can’t deny +anyone on my wedding day you know, and father almost safely here. Show her into +the little reception room.” She smiled a ravishing smile on the devoted +Graves, so with many qualms of conscience and misgivings as to what the +mistress would say if she found out, Graves ushered Lizzie and her baby to the +room indicated and Starr fluttered down to see her. So it was Starr’s own +doings that Lizzie came into her presence on that eventful afternoon. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what a sweet baby!” exclaimed Starr eagerly, “is he +yours?” Lizzie’s fierce eyes softened. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down and tell me who you are. Wait, I’ll have some tea brought +for you. You look tired. And won’t you let me give that sweet baby a +little white shawl of mine. I’m to be married tonight and I’d like +to give him a wedding present,” she laughed gaily, and Morton was sent +for the shawl and another servant for the tea, while Starr amused herself by +making the baby crow at her. +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie sat in wonder. Almost for the moment she forgot her errand watching this +sweet girl in her lovely attire making much of her baby. But when the tea had +been brought and the soft white wool shawl wrapped around the smiling baby +Starr said again: +</p> + +<p> +“Now please tell me who you are and what you have come for. I can’t +give you but a minute or two more. This is a busy day, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie’s brow darkened. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m Mrs. Carter!” she said drawing herself up with conscious +pride. +</p> + +<p> +“Carter?” said Starr politely. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I’m the wife of the man you’re goin’ to marry +tonight, an’ this is his child, I thought I’d come an’ tell +you ’fore ’twas too late. I thought ef you had enny goodness in you +you’d put a stop to this an’ give me my rights, an’ you seem +to hev some heart. Can’t you call it off? You wouldn’t want to take +my husband away from me, would you? You can get plenty others an’ +I’m jest a plain workin’ girl, an’ he’s mine anyhow, +an’ this is his kid.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr had started to her feet, her eyes wide, her hand fluttering to her heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” she cried. “You must be crazy to say such things. My +poor girl, you have made a great mistake. Your husband is some other Mr. Carter +I suppose. My Mr. Carter is not that kind of a man. He has never been +married—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, he has!” interposed Lizzie fiercely, “He’s +married all right, an’ I got the c’tif’ct all right too, only +I couldn’t bring it this time cause I lef’ it with my lawyer; but +you can see it ef you want to, with his name all straight, “Sty-Vee-Zant +Carter,” all writ out. I see to it that he writ it himself. I kin read +meself, pretty good, so I knowed.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am very sorry for you,” said Starr sweetly, though her heart was +heating violently in spite of her efforts to be calm and to tell herself that +she must get rid of this wretched impostor without making a scene for the +servants to witness: “I am very sorry, but you have made some great +mistake. There isn’t anything I can do for you now, but later when I come +back to New York if you care to look me up I will try to do something for +baby.” +</p> + +<p> +Lizzie stood erect in the middle of the little room, her face slowly changing +to a stony stare, her eyes fairly blazing with anger. +</p> + +<p> +“De’yer mean ter tell me yer a goin’ t’go on an’ +marry my husban’ jes’ ez ef nothin’ had happened? Ain’t +yer goin’ ter ast him ef it’s true ner nothin’? Ain’t +yer goin’ t’ find out what’s true ’bout him? R +d’ye want ’im so bad ye don’t care who yer hurt, or wot he +is, so long’s he makes a big splurge before folks? Ain’t you +a-goin’ ter ast him ’bout it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, why certainly, of course,” said Starr as if she were pacifying +a frantic child, “I can ask him. I will ask him of course, but I +<i>know</i> that you are mistaken. Now really, I shall have to say good +afternoon. I haven’t another minute to spare. You must go!” +</p> + +<p> +“I shan’t stir a step till you promise me thet you’ll ast him +right straight away. Ain’t you all got no telyphone? Well, you kin call +him up an’ ast him. Jest ast him why he didn’t never speak to you +of his wife Lizzie, and where he was the evenin’ of Augus’ four. +That’s the date on the c’tif’ct! Tell him you seen me +an’ then see wot he says. Tell him my lawyer is a goin’ to fix him +ef he goes on. It’ll be in all the papers tomorrer mornin’ ef he +goes on. An’ you c’n say I shan’t never consent to no +<i>di</i>-vorce, they ain’t respectable, an’ I got to think +o’ that on baby’s account.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you will go quietly away now and say nothing more about this to +anyone I will tell Mr. Carter all about you,” said Starr, her voice +trembling with the effort at self-control. +</p> + +<p> +“D’ye promus you will?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” said Starr with dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“Will ye do it right off straight?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, if you will go at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cross yer heart?” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” +</p> + +<p> +“Cross yer heart ye will? Thet’s a sort o’ oath t’ make +yer keep yer promus,” explained Lizzie. +</p> + +<p> +“A lady needs no such thing to make her keep her promise. Don’t you +know that ladies always keep their promises?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t so sure!” said Lizzie, “You can’t most +allus tell, ’t’s bes’ to be on the safe side. Will yer promus +me yer won’t marry him ef ye find out he’s my husband?” +</p> + +<p> +“Most certainly I will not marry him if he is already married. Now go, +please, at once. I haven’t a minute to spare. If you don’t go at +once I cannot have time to call him up.” +</p> + +<p> +“You sure I kin trust you?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr turned on the girl such a gaze of mingled dignity and indignation that +her eye quailed before it. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I s’pose I gotta,” she said, dropping her eyes before +Starr’s righteous wrath. “But ‘no weddin’ bells’ +fer you tonight ef yeh keep yer promus. So long!” +</p> + +<p> +Starr shuddered as the girl passed her. The whiff of unwashed garments, stale +cooking, and undefinable tenement odor that reached her nostrils sickened her. +Was it possible that she must let this creature have a hold even momentarily +upon her last few hours? Yet she knew she must. She knew she would not rest +until she had been reassured by Carter’s voice and the explanation that +he would surely give her. She rushed upstairs to her own private ’phone, +locking the door on even her old nurse, and called up the ’phone in +Carter’s private apartments. +</p> + +<p> +Without owning it to herself she had been a little troubled all the afternoon +because she had not heard from Carter. Her flowers had come,—magnificent +in their costliness and arrangement, and everything he was to attend to was +done, she knew, but no word had come from himself. It was unlike him. +</p> + +<p> +She knew that he had given a dinner the evening before to his old friends who +were to be his ushers, and that the festivities would have lasted late. He had +not probably arisen very early, of course, but it was drawing on toward the +hour of the wedding now. She intended to begin to dress at once after she had +’phoned him. It was strange she had not heard from him. +</p> + +<p> +After much delay an unknown voice answered the ’phone, and told her Mr. +Carter could not come now. She asked who it was but got no response, except +that Mr. Carter couldn’t come now. The voice had a muffled, thick sound. +“Tell him to call me then as soon as possible,” she said, and the +voice answered, “Awright!” +</p> + +<p> +Reluctantly she hung up the receiver and called Morton to help her dress. She +would have liked to get the matter out of the way before she went about the +pretty ceremony, and submitted herself to her nurse’s hands with an ill +grace and troubled thoughts. The coarse beauty of Lizzie’s face haunted +her. It reminded her of an actress that Carter had once openly admired, and she +had secretly disliked. She found herself shuddering inwardly every time she +recalled Lizzie’s harsh voice, and uncouth sentences. +</p> + +<p> +She paid little heed to the dressing process after all and let Morton have her +way in everything, starting nervously when the ’phone bell rang, or +anyone tapped at her door. +</p> + +<p> +A message came from her father finally. He hoped to be with her in less than an +hour now, and as yet no word had come from Carter! Why did he not know she +would be anxious? What could have kept him from his usual greeting of her, and +on their wedding day! +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly, in the midst of Morton’s careful draping of the wedding veil +which she was trying in various ways to see just how it should be put on at the +last minute, Starr started up from her chair. +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot stand this, Mortie. That will do for now. I must telephone Mr. +Carter. I can’t understand why he doesn’t call me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but the poor man is that busy!” murmured Morton excusingly as +she hurried obediently out of the room. “Now, mind you don’t muss +that beautiful veil.” +</p> + +<p> +But after a half hour of futile attempt to get into communication with Carter, +Starr suddenly appeared in her door calling for her faithful nurse again. +</p> + +<p> +“Mortie!” she called excitedly. “Come here quick! I’ve +ordered the electric. It’s at the door now. Put on your big cloak and +come with me! I’ve got to see Mr. Carter at once and I can’t get +him on the ’phone.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Miss Starr!” protested Morton. “You’ve no time to +go anywhere now, and look at your pretty veil!” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the veil, Mortie, I’m going. Hurry. I can’t stop +to explain. I’ll tell you on the way. We’ll be back before anyone +has missed us.” +</p> + +<p> +“But your mamma, Miss Starr! She will be very angry with me!” +</p> + +<p> +“Mamma must not know. And anyway I must go. Come, if you won’t come +with me I’m going alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr with these words grasped a great cloak of dark green velvet, soft and +pliable as a skin of fur, threw it over her white bridal robes, and hurried +down the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Miss Starr, darlin’,” moaned Morton looking hurriedly +around for a cloak with which to follow. “You’ll spoil yer veil +sure! Wait till I take it off’n ye.” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr had opened the front door and was already getting into the great +luxurious car that stood outside. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap23"></a>Chapter XXIII</h3> + +<p> +Michael, as he went about on his search kept crying over and over again in his +heart: “Oh, God! Do something to save her! Do something to save my little +Starr!” +</p> + +<p> +Over and over the prayer prayed itself without seeming thought or volition on +his part, as he went from place to place, faithfully, keenly, step by step, +searching out what he needed to know. At last toward six o’clock, his +chain of evidence led him to the door of Stuyvesant Carter’s apartments. +</p> + +<p> +After some delay the door was opened reluctantly a little way by a servant with +an immobile mask of a face who stared at him stupidly, but finally admitted +that the three men whose names he mentioned were inside. He also said that Mr. +Carter was in, but could not be seen. +</p> + +<p> +He closed the door on the visitor and went inside again to see if any of the +others would come out. There ensued an altercation in loud and somewhat +unsteady tones, and at last the door opened again and a fast looking young man +who admitted himself to be Theodore Brooks slid out and closed it carefully +behind him. The air that came with him was thick with tobacco smoke and heavy +with liquor, and the one glimpse Michael got of the room showed a strange +radiance of some peculiar light that glowed into the dusky hall weirdly. +</p> + +<p> +The heavy-eyed youth who stood braced against the wall uncertainly looked into +Michael’s face with an impudent laugh. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, parson, what’s the grouch? Are you the devil or an angel +sent to bring retribution?” He ended with a silly laugh that told the +experienced ear of the young lawyer that the young man had been drinking +heavily. And this was the man whose name was signed as Rev. Theodore Brooks, +D.D., on the tawdry little marriage certificate that Michael held in his hand. +His heart sank at the futility of the task before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a minister?” asked Michael briefly. +</p> + +<p> +“Am I a minister?” drawled young Brooks. “M-my-m-m-mnster! +Well now that get’s my goat! Say, boys, he wants t’ kno’ +’f I’m a m-min’ster! Min-ster of what? Min-ster +plen-p’ten’sherry?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you ever perform a marriage?” asked Michael sharply to stop +the loud guffaw that was re-echoing through the polished corridors of the +apartment. +</p> + +<p> +“P’form a m’riage, d’ye say? No, but I’m +goin’ perform ’t a marriage tonight ’f the dead wakes up in +time. Goin’ t’ be bes’ man. Say, boys! Got ’im +’wake yet? Gettin’ late!” +</p> + +<p> +Michael in despair took hold of the other’s arm and tried to explain what +he wanted to know. Finally he succeeded in bringing the matter into the +fellow’s comprehension. +</p> + +<p> +“Wedding, oh, yes, I ’member, peach of a girl! Stuyvy awfully fond +of her. No harm meant. Good joke! Yes,—I borr’wed +Grand’F’ther Brooks’s old gown’n ban’s. +Awf’lly good disguise! No harm meant—on’y good +joke—girl awf’lly set on getting married. Stuyvy wanted t’ +please ’er—awfully good, joke—!” +</p> + +<p> +“A ghastly joke, I should say, sir!” said Michael sternly and then +the door was flung open by hands from inside, loud angry voices protesting +while another hand sought unavailingly to close the door again, but Michael +came and planted himself in the open door and stood like an avenging angel come +to call to judgment. The scene that was revealed to him was too horrifying for +words. +</p> + +<p> +A long banquet table stood in the midst of the handsome room whose furnishings +were of the costliest. Amid the scattered remains of the feast, napkins lying +under the table, upset glasses still dripping their ruby contents down the +damask of the tablecloth, broken china, scattered plates and silver, stood a +handsome silver bound coffin, within which, pallid and deathlike, lay the +handsome form of the bridegroom of the evening. All about the casket in high +sconces burned tall tapers casting their spectral light over the scene. +</p> + +<p> +Distributed about the room lounging in chairs, fast asleep on the couches, +lying under the table, fighting by the doorway, one standing on a velvet chair +raising an unsteady glass of wine and making a flabby attempt at a drinking +song, were ten young men, the flower of society, the expected ushers of the +evening’s wedding. +</p> + +<p> +Michael with his white face, his golden hair aflame in the flickering candle +light, his eyes full of shocked indignation, stood for a moment surveying the +scene, and all at once he knew that his prayer was answered. There would be no +wedding that night. +</p> + +<p> +“Is this another of your ghastly jokes?” he turned to Brooks who +stood by as master of ceremonies, not in the least disturbed by the presence of +the stranger. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just what it is,” stuttered Brooks, “a +j-j-joke, a p-p-p-pract’cal joke. No harm meant, only Stuyvy’s hard +to wake up. Never did like gettin’ up in the mornin’. Wake +’im up boys! Wake ’im up! Time to get dressed for the +wedding!” +</p> + +<p> +“Has anyone sent word to Miss Endicott?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sent word to Mish Endicott? No, I’d ’no’s they have. +Think she’d care to come? Say, boys, that’s a good joke. This old +fellow—don’t know who he is—devil’n all his angels +p’raps—he s’gests we send word to Mish Endicott t’ +come’ th’ fun’ral—” +</p> + +<p> +“I said nothing of the kind,” said Michael fiercely. “Have +you no sense of decency? Go and wash your face and try to realize what you have +been doing. Have some one telephone for a doctor. I will go and tell the +family,” and Michael strode out of the room to perform the hardest task +that had ever yet fallen to his lot. +</p> + +<p> +He did not wait for the elevator but ran down the flights of stairs trying to +steady his thoughts and realize the horror through which he had just passed. +</p> + +<p> +As he started down the last flight he heard the elevator door clang below, and +as it shot past him he caught a glimpse of white garments and a face with eyes +that he knew. He stopped short and looked upward. Was it—could it be? But +no, of course not. He was foolish. He turned and compelled his feet to hurry +down the rest of the stairs, but at the door his worst fears were confirmed, +for there stood the great electric car, and the familiar face of the Endicott +chauffeur assured him that some one of the family had just gone to the ghastly +spectacle upstairs. +</p> + +<p> +In sudden panic he turned and fled up the stairs. He could not wait for +elevators now. He fain would have had wings, the wings of a protecting angel, +that he might reach her ere she saw that sight of horror. +</p> + +<p> +Yet even as he started he knew that he must be too late. +</p> + +<p> +Starr stopped startled in the open doorway, with Morton, protesting, +apprehensive, just behind her. The soft cloak slid away from her down the satin +of her gown, and left her revealed in all her wedding whiteness, her eyes like +stars, her beautiful face flushed excitedly. Then the eyes rested on the coffin +and its death-like occupant and her face went white as her dress, while a great +horror grew in her eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Brooks, more nearly sober than the rest, saw her first, and hastened to do the +honors. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, boys, she’s come,” he shouted. “Bride’s +come. Git up, Bobby Trascom. Don’t yer know ye mustn’t lie down, +when there’s a lady present—Van—get out from under that +table. Help me pick up these things. Place all in a mess. Glad to see you, Mish +Endicott—” He bowed low and staggered as he recovered himself. +</p> + +<p> +Starr turned her white face toward him: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Brooks,” she said in a tone that sobered him somewhat, +“what does it mean? Is he dead?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all, not at all, Mish Endicott,” he tried to say gravely. +“Have him all right in plenty time. Just a little joke, Mish Endicott. +He’s merely shlightly intoxicated—” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr heard no more. With a little stifled cry and a groping motion of her +white-clad arms, she crumpled into a white heap at the feet of her horrified +nurse. It was just as she fell that Michael appeared at the door, like the +rescuing angel that he was, and with one withering glance at the huddled group +of men he gathered her in his arms and sped down the stairs, faithful Morton +puffing after him. Neither of them noticed a man who got out of the elevator +just before Starr fell and walking rapidly toward the open door saw the whole +action. In a moment more Mr. Endicott stood in the door surveying the scene +before him with stern, wrathful countenance. +</p> + +<p> +Like a dash of cold water his appearance brought several of the participants in +the disgraceful scene to their senses. A few questions and he was possessed of +the whole shameful story; the stag dinner growing into a midnight orgy; the +foolish dare, and the reckless acceptance of it by the already intoxicated +bridegroom; the drugged drinks; and the practical joke carried out by brains +long under the influence of liquor. Carter’s man who had protested had +been bound and gagged in the back room. The jokers had found no trouble in +securing the necessary tools to carry out their joke. Money will buy anything, +even an undertaker for a living man. The promise of secrecy and generous fees +brought all they needed. Then when the ghastly work was completed and the +unconscious bridegroom lying in state in his coffin amid the debris of the +table, they drowned the horror of their deed in deeper drinking. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott turned from the scene, his soul filled with loathing and horror. +</p> + +<p> +He had reached home to find the house in a tumult and Starr gone. Morton, as +she went out the door after her young mistress, had whispered to the butler +their destination, and that they would return at once. She had an innate +suspicion that it would be best for some one to know. +</p> + +<p> +Mr. Endicott at once ordered the runabout and hastened after them, arriving but +a moment or two later. Michael had just vanished up the Apartment stairs as he +entered the lower hallway. The vague indefinite trouble that had filled his +mind concerning his daughter’s marriage to a man he little knew except by +reputation, crystallized into trouble, dear and distinct, as he hurried after +his daughter. Something terrible must have come to Starr or she would never +have hurried away practically alone at a time like this. +</p> + +<p> +The electric car was gone by the time Mr. Endicott reached the lower hall +again, and he was forced to go back alone as he came, without further +explanation of the affair than what he could see; but he had time in the rapid +trip to become profoundly thankful that the disgraceful scene he had just left +had occurred before and not after his daughter’s marriage. Whatever +alleviating circumstances there were to excuse the reckless victim of his +comrade’s joke, the fact remained that a man who could fall victim to a +joke like that was not the companion for his daughter’s life; she who had +been shielded and guarded at every possible point, and loved as the very apple +of his eye. His feelings toward the perpetrators of this gruesome sport were +such that he dared not think about them yet. No punishment seemed too great for +such. And she, his little Starr, had looked upon that shameful scene; had seen +the man she was expecting to marry lying as one dead—! It was too awful! +And what had it done to her? Had it killed her? Had the shock unsettled her +mind? The journey to his home seemed longer than his whole ocean voyage. Oh, +why had he not left business to go to the winds and come back long ago to +shield his little girl! +</p> + +<p> +Meantime, Michael, his precious burden in his arms, had stepped into the +waiting car, motioning Morton to follow and sit in the opposite seat. The +delicate Paris frock trailed unnoticed under foot, and the rare lace of the +veil fell back from the white face, but neither Michael nor the nurse thought +of satin and lace now, as they bent anxiously above the girl to see if she +still breathed. +</p> + +<p> +All the way to her home Michael held the lovely little bride in his arms, +feeling her weight no more than a feather; fervently thankful that he might +bear her thus for the moment, away from the danger that had threatened her +life. He wished with all his heart he might carry her so to the ends of the +earth and never stop until he had her safe from all harm that earth could +bring. His heart thrilled wildly with the touch of her frail sweetness, even +while his anxious face bent over her to watch for signs of returning +consciousness. +</p> + +<p> +But she did not become conscious before she reached the house. His strong arms +held her as gently as though she had been a baby as he stepped carefully out +and carried her to her own room; laying her upon the white bed, where but two +hours before the delicate wedding garments had been spread ready for her to put +on. Then he stood back, reverently looked upon her dear face, and turned away. +It was in the hall that he met her mother, and her face was fairly disfigured +with her sudden recognition of him. +</p> + +<p> +“What! Is it you that have dared come into this house? The impertinence! +I shall report all your doings to my husband. He will be very angry. I believe +that you are at the bottom of this whole business! You shall certainly be dealt +with as you deserve!” +</p> + +<p> +She hissed the words after him as Michael descended the stairs with bowed head +and closed lips. It mattered not now what she said or thought of him. Starr was +saved! +</p> + +<p> +He was about to pass out into the world again, away from her, away even from +knowledge of how she came out of her swoon. He had no further right there now. +His duty was done. He had been allowed to save her in her extremity! +</p> + +<p> +But just as he reached it the door opened and Mr. Endicott hurried in. +</p> + +<p> +He paused for an instant. +</p> + +<p> +“Son!” said he, “it was you who brought her home!” It +was as if that conviction had but just been revealed to his perturbed mind. +“Son, I’m obliged. Sit here till I come. I want to speak with +you.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor came with a nurse, and Michael sat and listened to the distant +voices in her room. He gathered from the sounds by and by that Starr was +conscious, was better. +</p> + +<p> +Until then no one had thought of the wedding or of the waiting guests that +would be gathering. Something must be done. And so it came about that as the +great organ sounded forth the first notes of the wedding march—for by +some blunder the bride’s signal had been given to the organist when the +Endicott car drew up at the church—that Michael, bare headed, with his +hat in his hand, walked gravely up the aisle, unconscious of the battery of +eyes, and astonished whispers of “Who is he? Isn’t he magnificent? +What does it mean? I thought the ushers were to come first?” until he +stood calmly in the chancel and faced the wondering audience. +</p> + +<p> +If an angel had come straight down from heaven and interfered with their +wedding they could not have been more astonished. For, as he stood beneath the +many soft lights in front of the wall of living green and blossoms, with his +white face and grave sweet dignity, they forgot for once to study the fashion +of his coat, and sat awed before his beautiful face; for Michael wore tonight +the look of transport with chin uplifted, glowing eyes, and countenance that +showed the spirit shining through. +</p> + +<p> +The organist looked down, and instinctively hushed his music. Had he made some +mistake? Then Michael spoke. Doubtless he should have gone to the minister who +was to perform the ceremony, and given him the message, but Michael little knew +the ways of weddings. It was the first one he had ever attended, and he went +straight to the point. +</p> + +<p> +“On account of the sudden and serious illness of the groom,” he +said, “it will be impossible for the ceremony to go on at this time. The +bride’s family ask that you will kindly excuse them from further +intrusion or explanation this evening.” +</p> + +<p> +With a slight inclination of his head to the breathless audience Michael passed +swiftly down the aisle and out into the night, and the organist, by tremendous +self-control, kept on playing softly until the excited people who had drifted +usherless into the church got themselves out into their carriages once more. +</p> + +<p> +Michael walked out into the night, bareheaded still, his eyes lifted to the +stars shining so far away above the city, and said softly, with wondering, +reverent voice: “Oh, God! Oh, God!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap24"></a>Chapter XXIV</h3> + +<p> +Following hard upon the interrupted wedding came other events that not only +helped to hush matters up, but gave the world a plausible reason why the +ceremony did not come off as soon as the groom was convalescent from what was +reported in the papers to be an attack of acute indigestion, easily accounted +for by the round of banquets and entertainments which usually precede a society +wedding. +</p> + +<p> +During that eventful night while Starr still lay like a crushed lily torn +rudely from its stem, her mother, after a stormy scene with her husband, in +which he made it plain to her just what kind of a man she was wanting her +daughter to marry, and during which she saw the fall of her greatest social +ambitions, was suddenly stricken with apoplexy. +</p> + +<p> +The papers next morning told the news as sympathetically as a paper can tell +one’s innermost secrets. It praised the wonderful ability of the woman +who had so successfully completed all the unique arrangements for what had +promised to be the greatest wedding of the season, if not of all seasons; and +upon whose overtaxed strength, the last straw had been laid in the illness of +the bridegroom. It stated that now of course the wedding would be put off +indefinitely, as nothing could be thought of while the bride’s mother lay +in so critical a state. +</p> + +<p> +For a week there were daily bulletins of her condition published always in more +and more remote corners of the paper, until the little ripple that had been +made in the stream of life passed; and no further mention was made of the +matter save occasionally when they sent for some famous specialist: when they +took her to the shore to try what sea air might do; or when they brought her +home again. +</p> + +<p> +But all the time the woman lay locked in rigid silence. Only her cold eyes +followed whoever came into her room. She gave no sign of knowing what they +said, or of caring who came near her. Her husband’s earnest pleas, +Starr’s tears, drew from her no faintest expression that might have been +even imagined from a fluttering eyelash. There was nothing but that stony +stare, that almost unseeing gaze, that yet followed, followed wherever one +would move. It was a living death. +</p> + +<p> +And when one day the release came and the eyes were closed forever from the +scenes of this world, it was a sad relief to both husband and daughter. Starr +and her father stole away to an old New England farm-house where Mr. +Endicott’s elderly maiden sister still lived in the old family homestead; +a mild-eyed, low-voiced woman with plain gray frocks and soft white laces at +wrists and neck and ruched about her sweet old face above the silver of her +hair. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had not been there since she was a little child, and her sad heart found +her aunt’s home restful. She stayed there through the fall and until +after the first of the year; while her father came and went as business +dictated; and the Endicott home on Madison Avenue remained closed except for +the caretakers. +</p> + +<p> +Meanwhile young Carter had discreetly escorted his mother to Europe, and was +supposed by the papers to be going to return almost immediately. Not a breath +of gossip, strange to say, stole forth. Everything seemed arranged to quiet any +suspicion that might arise. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the fall he returned to town but Starr was still in New England. No +one knew of the estrangement between them. Their immediate friends were away +from town still, and everything seemed perfectly natural in the order of +decency. Of course people could not be married at once when there had been a +death in the family. +</p> + +<p> +No one but the two families knew of Carter’s repeated attempts to be +reconciled to Starr; of his feeble endeavor at explanation; of her continued +refusal even to see him; and the decided letter she wrote him after he had +written her the most abject apology he knew how to frame; nor of her +father’s interview with the young man wherein he was told some facts +about himself more plainly than anyone, even in his babyhood, had ever dared to +tell him. Mr. Endicott agreed to keep silence for Starr’s sake, provided +the young man would do nothing to create any gossip about the matter, until the +intended wedding had been forgotten, and other events should have taken the +minds of society, from their particular case. Carter, for his own sake, had not +cared to have the story get abroad and had sullenly acceded to the command. He +had not, however, thought it necessary to make himself entirely miserable while +abroad; and there were those who more than once spoke his name in company with +that of a young and dashing divorcée. Some even thought he returned to America +sooner than he intended in order to travel on the same steamer that she was to +take. However, those whispers had not as yet crossed the water; and even if +they had, such things were too common to cause much comment. +</p> + +<p> +Then, one Monday morning, the papers were filled with horror over an unusually +terrible automobile accident; in which a party of seven, of whom the young +divorcée was one and Stuyvesant Carter was another, went over an embankment +sixty feet in height, the car landing upside down on the rocks below, and +killing every member of the party. The paper also stated that Mr. Theodore +Brooks, intimate friend of Carter’s, who was to have been best man at the +wedding some months previous, which was postponed on account of the sudden +illness and death of the bride’s mother, was of the party. +</p> + +<p> +Thus ended the career of Stuyvesant Carter, and thus the world never knew +exactly why Starr Endicott did not become Mrs. Carter. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, from the moment that he went forth from delivering his message in the +church, saw no more of the Endicotts. He longed inexpressibly to call and +enquire for Starr; to get some word of reconciliation from her father; to ask +if there was not some little thing that he might be trusted to do for them; but +he knew that his place was not there, and his company was not desired. Neither +would he write, for even a note from him could but seem, to Starr, a reminder +of the terrible things of which he had been witness, that is if anybody had +ever told her it was he that brought her home. +</p> + +<p> +One solace alone he allowed himself. Night after night as he went home late he +would walk far out of his way to pass the house and look up at her window; and +always it comforted him a little to see the dim radiance of her soft night +light; behind the draperies of those windows, somewhere, safe, she lay asleep, +the dear little white-faced girl that he had been permitted to carry to her +home and safety, when she had almost reached the brink of destruction. +</p> + +<p> +About a week after the fateful wedding day Michael received a brief note from +Starr. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +My dear Mr. Endicott:<br> + I wish to thank you for your trouble in bringing me home last week. I +cannot understand how you came to be there at that time. Also I am deeply +grateful for your kindness in making the announcement at the church. Very +sincerely, S.D.E. +</p> + +<p> +Michael felt the covert question in that phrase: “I cannot understand how +you came to be there at that time.” She thought, perhaps, that to carry +his point and stop the marriage he had had a hand in that miserable business! +Well, let her think it. It was not his place to explain, and really of course +it could make little difference to her what she believed about him. As well to +let it rest. He belonged out of her world, and never would he try to force his +way into it. +</p> + +<p> +And so with the whiteness of his face still lingering from the hard days of +tension, Michael went on, straining every nerve in his work; keeping the alley +room open nightly even during hot weather, and in constant touch with the farm +which was now fairly on its feet and almost beginning to earn its own living; +though the contributions still kept coming to him quietly, here and there, and +helped in the many new plans that grew out of the many new necessities. +</p> + +<p> +The carpenter had built and built, until there were pretty little bungalows of +one and two and three rooms dotted all about the farm to be rented at a low +price to the workers. It had come to be a little community by itself, spoken of +as “Old Orchard Farms,” and well respected in the neighborhood, for +in truth the motley company that Michael and Sam gathered there had done far +better in the way of law-and-orderliness than either had hoped. They seemed to +have a pride that nothing that could hurt “the boss’s” +reputation as a landowner should be laid to their charge. If by chance there +came into their midst any sordid being who could not see matters in that light +the rest promptly taught him better, or else put him out. +</p> + +<p> +And now the whole front yard was aflame with brilliant flowers in their season. +The orchard had been pruned and trimmed and grafted, and in the spring +presented a foreground of wonderful pink and white splendor; and at all seasons +of the year the grassy drive wound its way up to the old house, through a vista +of branches, green, or brown. +</p> + +<p> +It had long been in Michael’s heart to build over the old house—for +what he did not know. Certainly he had no hope of ever using it himself except +as a transitory dwelling; yet it pleased his fancy to have it as he dreamed it +out. Perhaps some day it might be needed for some supreme reason, and now was +the time to get it ready. So one day he took a great and simple-hearted +architect down to the place to stay over night and get an idea of the +surroundings; and a few weeks later he was in possession of a plan that showed +how the old house could be made into a beautiful new house, and yet keep all +the original outlines. The carpenter, pleased with the prospect of doing +something really fine, had undertaken the work and it was going forward +rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +The main walls were to be built around with stone, old stone bought from the +ruins of a desolated barn of forgotten years, stone that was rusty and golden +and green in lovely mellow tones; stone that was gray with age and mossy in +place; now and then a stone that was dead black to give strength to the +coloring of the whole. There were to be windows, everywhere, wide, low windows, +that would let the sunlight in; and windows that nestled in the sloping, +rambling roofs that were to be stained green like the moss that would grow on +them some day. There was to be a piazza across the entire front with rough +stone pillars, and a stone paved floor up to which the orchard grass would grow +in a gentle terrace. Even now Sam and his helpers were at work starting rose +vines of all varieties, to train about the trellises and twine about the +pillars. Sam had elected that it should be called “Rose Cottage.” +Who would have ever suspected Sam of having any poetry in his nature? +</p> + +<p> +The great stone fireplace with its ancient crane and place to sit inside was to +be retained, and built about with more stone, and the partitions between the +original sitting-room and dining-room and hall were to be torn down, to make +one splendid living-room of which the old fireplace should be the centre, with +a great window at one side looking toward the sea, and a deep seat with book +cases in the corner. Heavy beams were somehow to be put in the ceiling to +support it, and fine wood used in the wainscoting and panelling, with rough +soft-toned plaster between and above. The floors were to be smooth, wide boards +of hard wood well fitted. +</p> + +<p> +A little gable was to be added on the morning-side of the house for a +dining-room, all windows, with a view of the sea on one side and the river on +the other. Upstairs there would be four bedrooms and a bath-room, all according +to the plan to be white wainscoting half-way up and delicately vined or tinted +papers above. +</p> + +<p> +Michael took great pleasure in going down to look at the house, and watching +the progress that was made with it, as indeed the whole colony did. They called +it “The Boss’s Cottage,” and when they laid off work at night +always took a trip to see what had been done during the day, men, women and +children. It was a sort of sacred pilgrimage, wherein they saw their own +highest dreams coming true for the man they loved because he had helped them to +a future of possibilities. Not a man of them but wistfully wondered if he would +ever get to the place where he could build him a house like that, and resolved +secretly to try for it; and always the work went better the next day for the +visit to the shrine. +</p> + +<p> +But after all, Michael would turn from his house with an empty ache in his +heart. What was it for? Not for him. It was not likely he would ever spend +happy hours there. He was not like other men. He must take his happiness in +making others happy. +</p> + +<p> +But one day a new thought came to him, as he watched the laborers working out +the plan, and bringing it ever nearer and nearer to the perfect whole. A great +desire came to him to have Starr see it some day, to know what she would think +about it, and if she would like it. The thought occurred to him that perhaps, +some time, in the changing of the world, she might chance near that way, and he +have opportunity to show her the house that he had built—for her! Not +that he would ever tell her that last. She must never know of course that she +was the only one in all the world he could ever care for. That would seem a +great presumption in her eyes. He must keep that to himself. But there would be +no harm in showing her the house, and he would make it now as beautiful as if +she were to occupy it. He would take his joy in making all things fair, with +the hope that she might one day see and approve it. +</p> + +<p> +So, as the work drew near its completion he watched it more and more carefully, +matching tints in rooms, and always bringing down some new idea, or finding +some particular bit of furniture that would some day fit into a certain niche. +In that way he cheated the lonely ache in his heart, and made believe he was +happy. +</p> + +<p> +And another winter drew its white mantle about its shoulders and prepared to +face the blast. +</p> + +<p> +It bade fair to be a bitter winter for the poor, for everything was high, and +unskilled labor was poorly paid. Sickness and death were abroad, and lurked in +the milk supply, the food supply, the unsanitary tenements about the alley; +which, because it had not been so bad as some other districts had been left +uncondemned. Yet it was bad enough, and Michael’s hands were full to keep +his people alive, and try to keep some of them from sinning. For always where +there is misery, there is the more sinning. +</p> + +<p> +Old Sal sat on her doorstep shivering with her tattered shawl about her +shoulders, or when it grew too cold peered from her little muslin curtained +window behind the geranium, to see the dirty white hearse with its pink-winged +angel atop, pass slowly in and out with some little fragment of humanity; and +knew that one day her turn would come to leave it all and go—! Then she +turned back to her little room which had become the only heaven she knew, and +solaced herself with the contents of a black bottle! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap25"></a>Chapter XXV</h3> + +<p> +During the years of his work in the alley Michael had become known more and +more among workers for the poor, and he found strength in their brotherhood, +though he kept mainly to his own little corner, and had little time to go out +into other fields. But he had formed some very pleasant distant friendships +among workers, and had met prominent men who were interested in reforms of all +sorts. +</p> + +<p> +He was hurrying back to his boarding place one evening late in January with his +mind full of the old problem of how to reach the mass of humanity and help them +to live in decency so that they might stand some little chance of being good as +well as being alive. +</p> + +<p> +At the crossing of another avenue he met a man whose eloquence as a public +speaker was only equalled by his indefatigable tirelessness as a worker among +men. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Endicott,” he said cordially, halting in his rapid +walk, “I wonder if you’re not the very man I want? Will you do me a +favor? I’m in great straits and no time to hunt up anybody.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anything I can do, Doctor, I am at your service,” said Michael. +</p> + +<p> +“Good! Thank you!” said the great man. “Are you free this +evening for an hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can be,” said Michael smiling. The other man’s hearty +greeting and warm “thank you” cheered his lonely heart. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, then you’ll take my place at Madison Square Garden tonight, +won’t you? I’ve just had a telegram that my mother is very ill, +perhaps dying, and I feel that I must go at once. I’m on my way to the +station now. I thought Patton would be at his rooms perhaps and he might help +me out, but they tell me he is out of town on a lecture tour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Take your place?” said Michael aghast. “That I’m sure +I could never do, Doctor. What were you going to do?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why, there’s a mass meeting at Madison Square Garden. We’re +trying to get more playgrounds and roof gardens for poor children, you know. I +was to speak about the tenement district, give people a general idea of what +the need is, you know. I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the +subject. They’re expecting some big men there who can be big givers if +they’re touched in the right way. You’re very good to help me out. +You’ll excuse me if I hurry on, it’s almost train time. I want to +catch the six o’clock express West—” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Doctor,” said Michael in dismay, striding along by his side +down the street, “I really couldn’t do that. I’m not a public +speaker, you know—I never addressed a big audience in my life! +Isn’t there some one else I could get for you?” +</p> + +<p> +It was odd that while he was saying it the vision of the church filled with the +fashionable world, waiting for a wedding which did not materialize, came to his +thoughts. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that doesn’t make the slightest difference in the +world!” said the worried man. “You know the subject from <i>a</i> +to <i>z</i>, and I don’t know another available soul tonight who does. +Just tell them what you know, you needn’t talk long; it’ll be all +right anyway. Just smile your smile and they’ll give all right. Good +night, and thank you from my heart! I must take this cab,” and he hailed +a passing cab and sprang inside, calling out above the city’s din, +“Eight o’clock the meeting is. Don’t worry! You’ll come +out all right. It’ll be good practice for your business.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still in the middle of the crowded pavement and looked after the +departing cab in dismay. If ever in all his life had he come to a spot where he +felt so utterly inadequate to fill a situation. Frantically he tried as he +started down the street again, to think of some one else to ask. There seemed +to be no one at all who was used to speaking that knew the subject. The few who +knew were either out of town or at a great distance. He did not know how to +reach them in time. Besides, there was something about Michael that just would +not let him shirk a situation no matter how trying it was to him. It was one of +the first principles he had been taught with football, and before he reached +his boarding place, his chin was up, and his lips firmly set. Anyone who knew +him well would have felt sure Michael was going into a scrimmage and expected +the fighting to be hard. +</p> + +<p> +It was Will French who dug it out of him after dinner, and laughed and slapped +him gleefully on the shoulder. Will was engaged to Hester now and he was +outrageously happy. +</p> + +<p> +“Good work, old fellow! You’ve got your chance, now give it to +’em! I don’t know anybody can do it better. I’d like to bring +a millionaire or two to hear you. You’ve been there, now tell ’em! +Don’t frown like that, old fellow, I tell you you’ve got the chance +of your life. Why don’t you tell ’em about the tenement in the +alley?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s face cleared. +</p> + +<p> +“I hadn’t thought of it, Will. Do you think I could? It isn’t +exactly on the subject. I understood him I was to speak of the tenement in +relation to the Playground.” +</p> + +<p> +“The very thing,” said Will. “Didn’t he tell you to say +what you knew? Well, give it to ’em straight, and you’ll see those +rich old fellows open their eyes. Some of ’em own some of those old +rickety shacks, and probably don’t know what they own. Tell ’em. +Perhaps the old man who owns our tenement will be there! Who knows?” +</p> + +<p> +“By the way,” said Michael, his face all alight, “did I tell +you that Milborn told me the other day that they think they’re on track +of the real owner of our tenement? The agent let out something the last time +they talked with him and they think they may discover who he is, though +he’s hidden himself well behind agents for years. If we can find out who +he is we may be able to help him understand what great need there is for him to +make a few changes—” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, a few changes!” sneered Will. “Tear down the whole +rotten death-trap and build a new one with light and air and a chance for human +beings to live! Give it to ’em, old man! He may be there tonight.” +</p> + +<p> +“I believe I will,” said Michael thoughtfully, the look of winning +beginning to dawn on his speaking face; and he went up to his room and locked +his door. +</p> + +<p> +When he came out again, Will who was waiting to accompany him to the meeting +saw in his eyes the look of the dreamer, the man who sees into the future and +prophesies. He knew that Michael would not fail in his speech that night. He +gave a knowing look to Hester as she came out to go with them and Hester +understood. They walked behind him quietly for the most part, or speaking in +low tones. They felt the pride and the anxiety of the moment as much as if they +had been going to make the speech themselves. The angel in the man had +dominated them also. +</p> + +<p> +Now it happened that Starr had come down with her father for a week’s +shopping the last time he ran up to his sister’s and on this particular +evening she had claimed her father’s society. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you stay at home, Daddy dear?” she asked wistfully. +“I don’t want to go to Aunt Frances’ ‘quiet little +evening’ one bit. I told her you needed me tonight as we’ve only a +day or two more left before I go back.” +</p> + +<p> +Aunt Frances was Starr’s mother’s sister, and as the servants of +the two families agreed mutually, “Just like her, only more so.” +Starr had never been quite happy in her company. +</p> + +<p> +“Come with me for a little while, daughter. I’m sorry I can’t +stay at home all the evening, but I rather promised I’d drop into a +charitable meeting at Madison Square for a few minutes this evening. +They’re counting on my name, I believe. We won’t need to stay long, +and if you’re with, me it will be easier to get away.” +</p> + +<p> +“Agreed!” said Starr eagerly, and got herself ready in a twinkling. +And so it came about that as the roll of martial music poured forth from the +fine instruments secured for the occasion, and the leaders and speakers of the +evening, together with the presidents of this Society, and that Army, or +Settlement, or Organization for the Belief and Benefit of the Poor, filed on to +the great platform, that Starr and her father occupied prominent seats in the +vast audience, and joined in the enthusiasm that spread like a wave before the +great American Flag that burst out in brilliant electric lights of red and +white and blue, a signal that the hour and the moment was come. +</p> + +<p> +Michael came in with the others, as calmly as though he had spent his life +preparing for the public platform. There was fire in his eyes, the fire of +passion for the people of the slums who were his kin. He looked over the +audience with a throb of joy to think he had so mighty an opportunity. His +pulses were not stirred, because he had no consciousness of self in this whole +performance. His subject was to live before the people, he himself was nothing +at all. He had no fear but he could tell them, if that was all they wanted. +Burning sentences hot with the blood of souls had been pouring through his mind +ever since he had decided to talk of his people. He was only in a hurry to +begin lest they would not give him time to tell all he knew! All he knew! Could +it ever be told? It was endless as eternity. +</p> + +<p> +With a strange stirring of her heart Starr recognized him. She felt the color +stealing into her face. She thought her father must notice it, and cast a +furtive glance at him, but he was deep in conversation about some banking +business, so she sat and watched Michael during the opening exercises and +wondered how he came to be there and what was his office in this thing. Did +lawyers get paid for doing something to help along charitable institutions? She +supposed so. He was probably given a seat on the platform for his pains. Yet +she could not help thinking how fine he looked sitting there in the centre, the +place of honor it would seem. How came he there? He was taller than all the +others, whether sitting or standing, and his fine form and bearing made him +exceedingly noticeable. Starr could hear women about her whispering to their +escorts: “Who is he?” and her heart gave strange little throbs to +think that she knew. It seemed odd to her that she should be taken back by the +sight of him now through all the years to that morning in Florida when she had +kissed him in the chapel. Somehow there seemed something sweet and tender in +the memory and she dwelt upon it, while she watched him looking calmly over the +audience, rising and moving to let another pass him, bowing and smiling to a +noted judge who leaned over to grasp his hand. Did young lawyers like that get +to know noted judges? And wherever did he get his grace? There was rhythm and +beauty in his every motion. Starr had never had such a splendid opportunity to +look at him before, for in all that sea of faces she knew hers would be lost to +him, and she might watch him at her will. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, did you know that Michael was up there?” she asked after a +while when her father’s friend went back to his seat. +</p> + +<p> +“Michael? No, where? On the platform? I wonder what in the world he is +doing there? He must be mixed up in this thing somehow, I understand he’s +stuck at his mission work. I tried to stop him several years ago. Told him it +would ruin his prospects, but he was too stubborn to give up. So he’s +here!” +</p> + +<p> +And Mr. Endicott searched out Michael and studied the beautiful face keenly, +looking in vain for any marks of degradation or fast living. The head was +lifted with its conquering look; the eyes shone forth like jewels. Michael was +a man, a son—to be proud of, he told himself, and breathed a heavy sigh. +That was one time when his stubbornness had not conquered, and he found himself +glad in spite of himself that it had not. +</p> + +<p> +The opening exercises were mere preliminary speeches and resolutions, mixed +with music, and interspersed by the introduction of the mayor of the city and +one or two other notables who said a few apathetic words of commendation for +the work in hand and retired on their laurels. “I understand this Dr. +Glidden who is to speak is quite an eloquent fellow,” said Starr’s +father as the President got up to introduce the speaker of the evening whom all +had come to hear. “The man who was just talking with me says he is really +worth hearing. If he grows tiresome we will slip out. I wonder which one he is? +He must be that man with the iron-gray hair over there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I don’t want to go out,” said Starr. “I like it. I +never was in a great meeting like this. I like to hear them cheer.” +</p> + +<p> +Her cheeks were rosy, for in her heart she was finding out that she had a great +longing to stay there and watch Michael a little longer. +</p> + +<p> +“I am sorry to have to tell you that our friend and advertised speaker +for the evening was called away by the sudden and serious illness of his +mother, and left for the West on the six o’clock express,” said the +chairman in his inadequate little voice that seemed always straining beyond its +height and never accomplishing anything in the way of being heard. +</p> + +<p> +A sigh of disappointment swept over the part of the audience near enough to the +platform to hear, and some men reached for their hats. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, now that’s a pity,” whispered Endicott. “I guess +we better go before they slip in any dry old substitutes. I’ve been seen +here, that’s enough.” +</p> + +<p> +But Starr laid a detaining hand on her father’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Wait a little, Daddy,” she said softly. +</p> + +<p> +“But he has sent a substitute,” went on the chairman, “a man +whom he says is a hundred per cent. better able to talk on the subject than +himself. He spoke to me from the station ’phone just before he left and +told me that he felt that you would all agree he had done well to go when you +had heard the man whom he has sent in his place. I have the pleasure to +introduce to you Mr. Michael Endicott who will speak to you this evening on the +“Needs of the Tenement Dwellers”—Mr. Endicott.” +</p> + +<p> +Amid the silence that ensued after the feebly-polite applause Michael rose. For +just an instant he stood, looking over the audience and a strange subtle thrill +ran over the vast assemblage. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael, insensibly measuring the spacious hall, flung his clear, +beautiful voice out into it, and reached the uttermost bounds of the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know that there are in this city now seventy-one thousand eight +hundred and seventy-seven totally dark rooms; some of them connected with an +air-shaft twenty-eight inches wide and seventy feet deep; many of them +absolutely without access to even a dark shaft; and that these rooms are the +only place in the whole wide, beautiful world for thousands of little children, +unless they stay in the street?” +</p> + +<p> +The sentence shot through the audience like a great deliberate bolt of +lightning that crashed through the hearts of the hearers and tore away every +vestige of their complacency. The people sat up and took notice. Starr thrilled +and trembled, she knew not why. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a tenement with rooms like this, a ‘dumb-bell’ +tenement, it is called, in the alley where, for aught I know, I was +born—” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” The sound swept over the listeners in a great wave like a sob +of protest. Men and women raised their opera glasses and looked at the speaker +again. They asked one another: “Who is he?” and settled quiet to +hear what more he had to say. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael went on to tell of three dark little rooms in “his” +tenement where a family of eight, accustomed to better things, had been forced +by circumstances to make their home; and where in the dark the germs of +tuberculosis had been silently growing, until the whole family were infected. +He spoke of a little ten-year-old girl, living in one of these little dark +rooms, pushed down on the street by a playmate, an accident that would have +been thought nothing of in a healthy child, but in this little one it produced +tubercular meningitis and after two days of agony the child died. He told of a +delicate girl, who with her brother were the sole wage earners of the family, +working all day, and sewing far into the night to make clothes for the little +brothers and sisters, who had fallen prey to the white plague. +</p> + +<p> +He told instance after instance of sickness and death all resulting from the +terrible conditions in this one tenement, until a delicate, refined looking +woman down in the audience who had dropped in with her husband for a few +minutes on the way to some other gathering, drew her soft mantle about her +shoulders with a shiver and whispered: “Really, Charles, it can’t +be healthy to have such a terrible state of things in the city where we live. I +should think germs would get out and float around to us. Something ought to be +done to clean such low creatures out of a decent community. Do let’s go +now. I don’t feel as if I could listen to another word. I shan’t be +able to enjoy the reception.” +</p> + +<p> +But the husband sat frowning and listening to the end of the speech, +vouchsafing to her whisper only the single growl: +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be a fool, Selina!” +</p> + +<p> +On and on Michael went, literally taking his audience with him, through room +after room of “his” tenement, showing them horrors they had never +dreamed; giving them now and again a glimmer of light when he told of a +curtained window with fifteen minutes of sun every morning, where a little +cripple sat to watch for her sunbeam, and push her pot of geraniums along the +sill that it might have the entire benefit of its brief shining. He put the +audience into peals of laughter over the wit of some poor creatures in certain +trying situations, showing that a sense of humor is not lacking in “the +other half”; and then set them weeping over a little baby’s +funeral. +</p> + +<p> +He told them forcibly how hard the workers were trying to clean out and improve +this terrible state of things. How cruelly slow the owner of this particular +tenement was even to cut windows into dark air shafts; how so far it had been +impossible to discover the name of the true owner of the building, because he +had for years successfully hidden behind agents who held the building in trust. +</p> + +<p> +The speech closed in a mighty appeal to the people of New York to rise up in a +mass and wipe out this curse of the tenements, and build in their places light, +airy, clean, wholesome dwellings, where people might live and work and learn +the lessons of life aright, and where sin could find no dark hole in which to +hatch her loathsome offspring. +</p> + +<p> +As Michael sat down amid a burst of applause such as is given to few speakers, +another man stepped to the front of the platform; and the cheers of +commendation were hushed somewhat, only to swell and break forth again; for +this man was one of the city’s great minds, and always welcome on any +platform. He had been asked to make the final appeal for funds for the +playgrounds. It had been considered a great stroke of luck on the part of the +committee to secure him. +</p> + +<p> +“My friends,” said he when the hush came at last and he could be +heard, “I appreciate your feelings. I would like to spend the remainder +of the night in applauding the man who has just finished speaking.” +</p> + +<p> +The clamor showed signs of breaking forth again: +</p> + +<p> +“This man has spoken well because he has spoken from his heart. And he +has told us that he knows whereof he speaks, for he has lived in those tenement +rooms himself, one of the little children like those for whom he pleads. I am +told that he has given almost every evening for four years out of a busy life +which is just opening into great promise, to help these people of his. I am +reminded as I have been listening to him of Lanier’s wonderful poem, +‘The Marshes of Glynn.’ Do you recall it? +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“‘Ye spread and span like the catholic man who hath mightily +won<br> +God out of knowledge, and good out of infinite pain,<br> +And sight out of blindness, and purity out of a stain.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Let us get to work at once and do our duty. I see you do not need +urging. My friends, if such a man as this, a prince among men, can come out of +the slums, then the slums are surely worth redeeming.” +</p> + +<p> +The audience thundered and clamored and thundered again; women sobbed openly, +while the ushers hurried about collecting the eager offerings of the people, +for Michael had won the day and everybody was ready to give. It sort of helped +to get the burden of such a state of things off their consciences. +</p> + +<p> +Starr had sat through the whole speech with glowing cheeks and lashes wet. Her +heart throbbed with wonder and a kind of personal pride in Michael. Somehow all +the years that had passed between seemed to have dropped away and she saw +before her the boy who had told her of the Florida sunset, and filled her with +childish admiration over his beautiful thoughts. His story appealed to her. The +lives of the little ones about whom he had been telling were like his poor +neglected existence before her father took him up; the little lonely life that +had been freely offered to save her own. +</p> + +<p> +She forgot now all that had passed between, her anger at his not coming to +ride; and after her return from abroad, not coming to call; nor accepting her +invitations; her rage at his interference in her affairs. Her persistence in +her own folly seemed now unspeakable. She was ashamed of herself. The tears +were streaming down her cheeks, but of this she was quite unaware. +</p> + +<p> +When the speeches were over and the uproar of applause had somewhat subsided, +Starr turned to her father her face aglow, her lashes still dewy with tears. +Her father had been silent and absorbed. His face was inscrutable now. He had a +way of masking his emotions even to those who knew him best. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, dear,” whispered Starr, “couldn’t we buy that +tenement and build it over? I should so love to give those little children +happy homes.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott turned and looked at his treasured child, her lovely face all +eagerness now. She had infinite faith in her father’s ability to purchase +anything she wanted. The father himself had been deeply stirred. He looked at +her searchingly at first; then yearningly, tenderly, but his voice was almost +gruff as he said: +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I’ll see about it!” +</p> + +<p> +“Couldn’t you let Michael know now, daddy? I think it would be such +a help to him to know that his speech has done some good.” The voice was +very sweet and appealing. “Couldn’t you send him word by one of the +ushers?” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! I suppose I could.” Endicott took out his fountain pen +and a business card, and began to write. +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t suppose, daddy, that the owner will object to selling? +There won’t be any trouble about it that way, will there?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t think there’ll be any trouble.” +</p> + +<p> +Endicott slipped the card into an envelope he found in his pocket and calling +an usher asked him to take it to the platform to Michael. What he had written +was this: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +I suppose you have been talking about my property. Pull the tenement down if +you like and build a model one. I’ll foot the bills. D.E. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael, surprised at receiving a communication on the platform, tore the +envelope open and read, his face fairly blazed with glory. Starr was watching +him, and her heart gave a queer little throb of pleasure at the light in his +eyes. The next instant he was on his feet, and with a whispered word to the +chairman, came to the front of the platform. His raised hand brought instant +silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I have good news. May I share it with you? The owner of that tenement is +in this house, and has sent me word that he will tear it down and build a model +one in its place!” +</p> + +<p> +The ring in Michael’s voice, and the light on his face was equivalent to +a dozen votes of thanks. The audience rose to its feet and cheered: +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy! Oh, daddy! Are you the owner?” There was astonishment, +reproof, excuse, and forgiveness all mingled in Starr’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Come Starr,” said her father abruptly, “we’d better go +home. This is a hot noisy place and I’m tired.” +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy dear! Of course you didn’t know how things were!” said +Starr sweetly. “You didn’t, did you, daddy?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t know,” said Endicott evasively, “that +Michael has a great gift of gab! Would you like to stop and have an ice +somewhere, daughter?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, daddy, I’d rather go home and plan how to make over that +tenement. I don’t believe I’d enjoy an ice after what I’ve +heard tonight. Why is it some people have so much more than others to start +with?” +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! Deep question, child, better not trouble your brains with +it,” and Starr saw that her father, though deeply moved, did not wish to +discuss the matter. +</p> + +<p> +The next day Michael called at Endicott’s office but did not find him in, +and wrote a letter out of the overwhelming joy of his heart, asking permission +to call and thank his benefactor and talk over plans. The following day he +received the curt reply: +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Son:—Make your plans to suit yourself. Don’t spare expense within +reason. No thanks needed. I did it for Starr. You made a good speech. +</p> + +<p> +Michael choked down his disappointment over this rebuff, and tried to take all +the joy of it. He was not forgiven yet. He might not enter the sacred precincts +of intercourse again; but he was beloved. He could not help feeling that, +because of that “Son” with which the communication began. And the +grudging praise his speech received was more to Michael than all the adulation +that people had been showering upon him since the night of the mass meeting. +But Starr! Starr knew about it. He did it for Starr! She had wanted it! She had +perhaps been there! She must have been there, or how else would she have known? +The thought thrilled him, and thrilled him anew! Oh, if he might have seen her +before him! But then perhaps he would not have been able to tell his story, and +so it was just as well. But Starr was interested in his work, his plans! What a +wonderful thing to have her work with him even in this indirect way. Oh, if +some day! If—! +</p> + +<p> +But right here Michael shut down his thoughts and went to work. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap26"></a>Chapter XXVI</h3> + +<p> +Late in January Michael was taking his nightly walk homeward by way of the +Endicott home. He was convinced that Starr was still away from home, for he had +seen no lights now for several weeks in the room that he knew was her own, but +there was always the chance that she might have returned. +</p> + +<p> +He was nearing the house when he saw from the opposite direction a man turn the +corner and with halting gait come slowly toward the house and pause before the +steps uncertainly. Something familiar in the man’s attitude caused +Michael to hasten his steps, and coming closer he found that it was Mr. +Endicott himself, and that he stood looking up the steps of his home as though +they had been a difficult hill which he must climb. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stopped beside him, saying good evening, the thrill of his voice +conveying his own joy in the meeting in addition to a common greeting. +</p> + +<p> +“Is that you, Son?” asked the older man swaying slightly toward +him. “I’m glad you came. I feel strangely dizzy. I wish you’d +help me in.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s arm was about the other’s shoulders at once and his ready +strength almost lifted his benefactor up the steps. His steady hand with the +key made short work of the night latch, and without waiting to call a servant +he helped Mr. Endicott up to his room and to his bed. +</p> + +<p> +The man sank back wearily with a sigh and closed his eyes, then suddenly roused +himself. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Son; and will you send a message to Starr that I am not able +to come on tonight as I promised? Tell her I’ll likely be all right +tomorrow and will try to come then. You’ll find the address at the head +of the telephone list in the hall there. I guess you’ll have to +’phone for the doctor. I don’t seem to feel like myself. There must +be something the matter. I think I’ve taken a heavy cold.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael hurried to the ’phone and called up the physician begging him to +come at once, for he could see that Mr. Endicott was very ill. His voice +trembled as he gave the message to the Western Union over the ’phone. It +seemed almost like talking to Starr, though he sent the telegram in her +father’s name. +</p> + +<p> +The message sent, he hurried back to the sick man, who seemed to have fallen in +a sort of stupor. His face was flushed and hot, the veins in his temples and +neck were throbbing rapidly. In all his healthy life Michael had seen little of +illness, but he recognized it now and knew it must be a violent attack. If only +he knew something to do until the doctor should arrive! +</p> + +<p> +Hot water used to be the universal remedy for all diseases at college. The +matron always had some one bring hot water when anyone was ill. Michael went +downstairs to find a servant, but they must all be asleep, for he had been +unusually late in leaving the alley that night. +</p> + +<p> +However, he found that the bath-room would supply plenty of hot water, so he +set to work to undress his patient, wrap him in a blanket and soak his feet in +hot water. But the patient showed signs of faintness, and was unable to sit up. +A footbath under such conditions was difficult to administer. The unaccustomed +nurse got his patient into bed again with arduous labor, and was just wondering +what to do next when the doctor arrived. +</p> + +<p> +Michael watched the grave face of the old doctor as he examined the sick man, +and knew that his intuitions had been right. Mr. Endicott was very seriously +ill. The doctor examined his patient with deliberation, his face growing more +and more serious. At last he stepped out of the room and motioned Michael to +follow him. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you a relative, young man?” he asked looking at Michael +keenly. +</p> + +<p> +“No, only one who is very much indebted to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s lucky for him if you feel that indebtedness now. Do you +know what is the matter with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael. “He looks pretty sick to me. What is +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Smallpox!” said the doctor laconically, “and a tough case at +that.” Then he looked keenly at the fine specimen of manhood before him, +noting with alert eye that there had been no blanching of panic in the +beautiful face, no slightest movement as if to get out of the room. The young +man was not a coward, anyway. +</p> + +<p> +“How long have you been with him?” he asked abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Since I telephoned you,” said Michael, “I happened to be +passing the house and saw him trying to get up the steps alone. He was dizzy, +he said, and seemed glad to have me come to his help.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you ever been vaccinated?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +“The wisest thing for you to do would be to get out of the room at once +and let me vaccinate you. I’ll try to send a nurse to look after him as +soon as possible. Where are the family? Not at home? And the servants will +probably scatter as soon as they learn what’s the matter. A pity he +hadn’t been taken to the hospital, but it’s hardly safe to move him +now. The fact is he is a very sick man, and there’s only one chance in a +hundred of saving him. You’ve run some big risks, taking care of him this +way—” +</p> + +<p> +“Any bigger than you are running, doctor?” Michael smiled gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! Well, it’s my business, and I don’t suppose it is +yours. There are people who are paid for those things. Come get out of this +room or I won’t answer for the consequences.” +</p> + +<p> +“The consequences will have to answer for themselves, doctor. I’m +going to stay here till somebody better comes to nurse him.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s eyes did not flinch as he said this. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you take the disease?” +</p> + +<p> +Michael smiled, one of his brilliant smiles that you could almost hear it was +so bright. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, then I will,” said Michael, “but I’ll stay well +long enough to take care of him until the nurse comes anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“You might die!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course.” In a tone with not a ruffle in the calm purpose. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s my duty to tell you that you’d probably be +throwing your life away, for there’s only a chance that he won’t +die.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not throwing it away if I made him suffer a little less. And you said +there was a chance. If I didn’t stay he might miss that chance, +mightn’t he?” +</p> + +<p> +“Probably.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can I do anything to help or ease him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then I stay. I should stay anyway until some one came. I couldn’t +leave him so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well, then. I’m proud to know a man like you. There’s +plenty to be done. Let’s get to work.” +</p> + +<p> +The hour that followed was filled with instructions and labor. Michael had no +time to think what would become of his work, or anything. He only knew that +this was the present duty and he went forward in it step by step. Before the +doctor left he vaccinated Michael, and gave him careful directions how to take +all necessary precautions for his own safety; but he knew from the lofty look +in the young man’s face, that these were mere secondary considerations +with him. If the need came for the sake of the patient, all precautions would +be flung aside as not mattering one whit. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor roused the servants and told them what had happened, and tried to +persuade them to stay quietly in their places, and he would see that they ran +no risks if they obeyed his directions. But to a man and a woman they were +panic stricken; gathering their effects, they, like the Arabs of old, folded +their tents and silently stole away in the night. Before morning dawned Michael +and his patient were in sole possession of the house. +</p> + +<p> +Early in the morning there came a call from the doctor. He had not been able to +secure the nurse he hoped to get. Could Michael hold the fort a few hours +longer? He would relieve him sooner if possible, but experienced nurses for +contagious cases were hard to get just now. There was a great deal of sickness. +He might be able to get one this morning but it was doubtful. He had telephoned +everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +Of course Michael would hold the fort. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor gave explicit directions, asked a number of questions, and promised +to call as soon as possible. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, alone in the great silence that the occasional babble of a delirious +person emphasizes in an otherwise empty house, began to think of things that +must be done. Fortunately there was a telephone in the room. He would not have +to leave his patient alone. He called up Will French and told him in a few +words what had happened; laughed pleasantly at Will’s fears for him; +asked him to look after the alley work and to attend to one or two little +matters connected with his office work which could not be put off. Then he +called up Sam at the farm, for Michael had long ago found it necessary to have +a telephone put in at Old Orchard. +</p> + +<p> +The sound of Sam’s voice cheered his heart, when, after Michael’s +brief simple explanation of his present position as trained nurse for the head +of the house of Endicott who lay sick of smallpox, Sam responded with a +dismayed “Fer de lub o’ Mike!” +</p> + +<p> +When Michael had finished all his directions to Sam, and received his +partner’s promise to do everything just as Michael would have done it, +Sam broke out with: +</p> + +<p> +“Say, does dat ike know what he’s takin’ off’n +you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who? Mr. Endicott? No, Sam, he doesn’t know anything. He’s +delirious.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ummm!” grunted Sam deeply troubled. “Well, he better +fin’ out wen he gets hisself agin er there’ll be sompin’ +comin’ to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s done a great deal for me, Sam.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ummm! Well, you’re gettin’ it back on him sure thing now, +all right. Say, you t’ care o’ yer’se’f, Mikky! We-all +can’t do nothin’ w’th’ut yer. You lemme know every day +how you be.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure Sam!” responded Michael deeply touched by the choking sound +of Sam’s voice. “Don’t you worry. I’m sound as a nut. +Nothing’ll happen to me. The doctor vaccinated me, and I’ll not +catch it. You look after things for me and I’ll be on deck again some day +all the better for the rest.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael sat back in the chair after hanging up the receiver, his eyes +glistening with moisture. To think the day had come when Sam should care like +that! It was a miracle. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went back again to the bed to look after his patient, and after he had +done everything that the doctor had said, he decided to reconnoitre for some +breakfast. There must be something in the house to eat even if the servants had +all departed, and he ought to eat so that his strength should be equal to his +task. +</p> + +<p> +It was late in the morning, nearly half-past ten. The young man hurried +downstairs and began to ransack the pantry. He did not want to be long away +from the upper room. Once, as he was stooping to search the refrigerator for +butter and milk he paused in his work and thought he heard a sound at the front +door, but then all seemed still, and he hurriedly put a few things on a tray +and carried them upstairs. He might not be able to come down again for several +hours. But when he reached the top of the stairs he heard a voice, not his +patient’s, but a woman’s voice, sweet and clear and troubled: +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy! Oh, daddy dear! Why don’t you speak to your little girl? +What is the matter? Can’t you understand me? Your face and your poor +hands are so hot, they burn me. Daddy, daddy dear!” +</p> + +<p> +It was Starr’s voice and Michael’s heart stood still with the +thrill of it, and the instant horror of it. Starr was in there in the room of +death with her father. She was exposed to the terrible contagion; she, the +beautiful, frail treasure of his heart! +</p> + +<p> +He set the tray down quickly on the hall table and went swiftly to the door. +</p> + +<p> +She sat on the side of the bed, her arms about her father’s unconscious +form and her head buried in his neck, sobbing. +</p> + +<p> +For an instant Michael was frozen to the spot with horror at her dangerous +situation. If she had wanted to take the disease she could not have found a +more sure way of exposing herself. +</p> + +<p> +The next instant Michael’s senses came back and without stopping to think +he sprang forward and caught her up in his arms, bearing her from the room and +setting her down at the bath-room door. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Starr! what have you done!” he said, a catch in his voice like +a sob, for he did not know what he was saying. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, frightened, struggling, sobbing, turned and looked at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Michael! How did you come to be here? Oh, what is the matter with my +father?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go wash your hands and face quickly with this antiseptic soap,” he +commanded, all on the alert now, and dealing out the things the doctor had +given him for his own safety, “and here! rinse your mouth with this +quickly, and gargle your throat! Then go and change your things as quick as you +can. Your father has the smallpox and you have been in there close to +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“The smallpox!” +</p> + +<p> +“Hurry!” commanded Michael, handing her the soap and turning on the +hot water. +</p> + +<p> +Starr obeyed him because when Michael spoke in that tone people always did +obey, but her frightened eyes kept seeking his face for some reassurance. +</p> + +<p> +“The smallpox! Oh, Michael! How dreadful! But how do you know? Has the +doctor been here? And how did you happen to be here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was passing last night when your father came home and he asked me to +help him in. Yes, the doctor was here, and will soon come again and bring a +nurse. Now hurry! You must get away from the vicinity of this room!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I’m not going away!” said Starr stubbornly. +“I’m going to stay by my father. He’ll want me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your father would be distressed beyond measure if he knew that you were +exposed to such terrible danger. I know that he would far rather have you go +away at once. Besides, he is delirious, and your presence cannot do him any +good now. You must take care of yourself, so that when he gets well you will be +well too, and able to help him get back into health again.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you are staying.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does not matter about me,” said Michael, “there is no one +to care. Besides, I am a man, and perfectly strong. I do not think I will take +the disease. Now please take off those things you wore in there and get +something clean that has not been in the room and go away from here as quickly +as you can.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael had barely persuaded her to take precautions when the doctor arrived +with a nurse and the promise of another before night. +</p> + +<p> +He scolded Starr thoroughly for her foolhardiness in going into her +father’s room. He had been the family physician ever since she was born, +knew her well; and took the privilege of scolding when he liked. Starr meekly +succumbed. There was just one thing she would not do, and that was to go away +out of the house while her father remained in so critical a condition. The +doctor frowned and scolded, but finally agreed to let her stay. And indeed it +seemed as if perhaps it was the only thing that could be done; for she had +undoubtedly been exposed to the disease, and was subject to quarantine. There +seemed to be no place to which she could safely go, where she could be +comfortable, and the house was amply large enough for two or three parties to +remain in quarantine in several detachments. +</p> + +<p> +There was another question to be considered. The nurses would have their hands +full with their patient. Some one must stay in the house and look after things, +see that they needed nothing, and get some kind of meals. Starr, of course, +knew absolutely nothing about cooking, and Michael’s experience was +limited to roasting sweet potatoes around a bonfire at college, and cooking +eggs and coffee at the fireplace on the farm. But a good cook to stay in a +plague-stricken dwelling would be a thing of time, if procurable at all; so the +doctor decided to accept the willing services of these two. Starr was +established in her own room upstairs, which could be shut away from the front +part of the house by a short passage-way and two doors, with access to the +lower floor by means of the back stairs; and Michael made a bed of the soft +couch in the tiny reception room where he had twice passed through trying +experiences. Great curtains kept constantly wet with antiseptics shut away the +sick room and adjoining apartments from the rest of the house. +</p> + +<p> +It was arranged that Michael should place such supplies as were needed at the +head of the stairs, just outside the guarding curtains, and the nurses should +pass all dishes through an antiseptic bath before sending them downstairs +again. The electric bells and telephones with which the house was well supplied +made it possible for them to communicate with one another without danger of +infection. +</p> + +<p> +Starr was at once vaccinated and the two young people received many +precautions, and injunctions, with medicine and a strict régime; and even then +the old doctor shook his head dubiously. If those two beautiful faces should +have to pass through the ordeal of that dread disease his old heart would be +quite broken. All that skill and science could do to prevent it should be done. +</p> + +<p> +So the house settled down to the quiet of a daily routine; the busy city +humming and thundering outside, but no more a part of them than if they had +been living in a tomb. The card of warning on the door sent all the neighbors +in the block scurrying off in a panic to Palm Beach or Europe; and even the +strangers passed by on the other side. The grocery boy and the milkman left +their orders hurriedly on the front steps and Michael and Starr might almost +have used the street for an exercise ground if they had chosen, so deserted had +it become. +</p> + +<p> +But there was no need for them to go farther than the door in front, for there +was a lovely side and back yard, screened from the street by a high wall, where +they might walk at will when they were not too busy with their work; which for +their unskilled hands was hard and laborious. Nevertheless, their orders were +strict, and every day they were out for a couple of hours at least. To keep +from getting chilled, Michael invented all sorts of games when they grew tired +of just walking; and twice after a new fall of snow they went out and had a +game of snowballing, coming in with glowing faces and shining eyes, to change +wet garments and hurry back to their kitchen work. But this was after the first +few serious days were passed, and the doctor had given them hope that if all +went well there was a good chance of the patient pulling through. +</p> + +<p> +They settled into their new life like two children who had known each other a +long time. All the years between were as if they had not been. They made their +blunders; were merry over their work; and grew into each other’s +companionship charmingly. Their ideas of cooking were most primitive and had it +not been possible to order things sent in from caterers they and the nurses +might have been in danger of starving to death. But as it was, what with +telephoning to the nurses for directions, and what with studying the recipes on +the outside of boxes of cornstarch and farina and oatmeal and the like that +they found in the pantry, they were learning day by day to do a little more. +</p> + +<p> +And then, one blessed day, the dear nurse Morton walked in and took off her +things and stayed. Morton had been on a long-delayed visit to her old father in +Scotland that winter; but when she saw in the papers the notice of the calamity +that had befallen the house of her old employer, she packed her trunk and took +the first steamer back to America. Her baby, and her baby’s father needed +her, and nothing could keep Morton away after that. +</p> + +<p> +Her coming relieved the situation very materially, for though she had never +been a fancy cook, she knew all about good old-fashioned Scotch dishes, and +from the first hour took up her station in the kitchen. Immediately comfort and +orderliness began to reign, and Starr and Michael had time on their hands that +was not spent in either eating, sleeping, working or exercise. +</p> + +<p> +It was then that they began to read together, for the library was filled with +all the treasures of literature, to many of which Michael had never had access +save through the public libraries, which of course was not as satisfactory as +having books at hand when one had a bit of leisure in a busy life. Starr had +been reading more than ever before this winter while with her aunt, and entered +into the pleasant companionship of a book together with zest. +</p> + +<p> +Then there were hours when Starr played softly, and sang, for the piano was far +from the sick room and could not be heard upstairs. Indeed, if it had not been +for the anxious struggle going on upstairs, these two would have been having a +beautiful time. +</p> + +<p> +For all unknowing to themselves they were growing daily into a dear delight in +the mere presence of one another. Even Michael, who had long ago laid down the +lines between which he must walk through life, and never expected to be more to +Starr than a friend and protector, did not realize whither this intimate +companionship was tending. When he thought of it at all he thought that it was +a precious solace for his years of loneliness; a time that must be enjoyed to +the full, and treasured in memory for the days of barrenness that must surely +follow. +</p> + +<p> +Upstairs the fight went on day after day, until at last one morning the doctor +told them that it had been won, that the patient, though very much enfeebled, +would live and slowly get back his strength. +</p> + +<p> +That was a happy morning. The two caught each, other’s hands and whirled +joyously round the dining-room when they heard it; and Morton came in with her +sleeves rolled up, and her eyes like two blue lakes all blurred with raindrops +in the sunlight. Her face seemed like a rainbow. +</p> + +<p> +The next morning the doctor looked the two over before he went upstairs and set +a limit to their quarantine. If they kept on doing well they would be +reasonably safe from taking the disease. It would be a miracle, almost, if +neither of them took it; but it began to look as if they were going to be all +right. +</p> + +<p> +Now these two had been so absorbed in one another that they had thought very +little about the danger of their taking the disease themselves. If either had +been alone in the house with nothing to do but brood it would have probably +been the sole topic of thought, but their healthy busy hours had helped the +good work on, and so they were coming safely out from under the danger. +</p> + +<p> +It was one bright morning when they were waiting for the doctor to come that +Michael was glancing over the morning paper, and Starr trying a new song she +had sent for that had just come in the mail the evening before. She wanted to +be able to play it for Michael to sing. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly Michael gave a little exclamation of dismay, and Starr, turning on the +piano stool, saw that his face was white and he was staring out of the window +with a drawn, sad look about his mouth and eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” she asked in quick, eager tones of sympathy, and +Michael turning to look at her vivid beauty, his heart thrilling with the sound +of her voice, suddenly felt the wide gulf that had always been between them, +for what he had read in the paper had shaken him from his happy dream and +brought him back to a sudden realization of what he was. +</p> + +<p> +The item in the paper that had brought about this rude awakening was an account +of how Buck had broken jail and escaped. Michael’s great heart was filled +with trouble about Buck; and instantly he remembered that he belonged to the +same class with Buck; and not at all in the charmed circle where Starr moved. +</p> + +<p> +He looked at the girl with grave, tender eyes, that yet seemed to be less +intimate than they had been all these weeks. Her sensitive nature felt the +difference at once. +</p> + +<p> +He let her read the little item. +</p> + +<p> +Starr’s face softened with ready sympathy, and a mingling of indignation. +“He was one of those people in your tenements you have been trying to +help?” she questioned, trying to understand his look. “He ought to +have been ashamed to get into jail after you had been helping him. Wasn’t +he a sort of a worthless fellow?” +</p> + +<p> +“No,” said Michael in quick defense, “he never had a chance. +And he was not just one of those people, he was <i>the</i> one. He was the boy +who took care of me when I was a little fellow, and who shared everything he +had, hard crust or warm cellar door, with me. I think he loved me—” +</p> + +<p> +There was something in Michael’s face and voice that warned Starr these +were sacred precincts, where she must tread lightly if she did not wish to +desecrate. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell me about him,” she breathed softly. +</p> + +<p> +So Michael, his eyes tender, his voice gentle, because she had cared to know, +told her eloquently of Buck, till when he had finished her eyes were wet with +tears; and she looked so sweet that he had to turn his own eyes away to keep +from taking the lovely vision into his arms and kissing her. It was a strange +wild impulse he had to do this, and it frightened him. Suppose some day he +should forget himself, and let her see how he had dared to love her? That must +never be. He must put a watch upon himself. This sweet friendship she had +vouchsafed him must never be broken by word, look or action of his. +</p> + +<p> +And from that morning there came upon his manner a change, subtle, +intangible,—but a change. +</p> + +<p> +They read and talked together, and Michael opened his heart to her as he had +not yet done, about his work in the alley, his farm colony, and his hopes for +his people; Starr listened and entered eagerly into his plans, yet felt the +change that had come upon him, and her troubled spirit knew not what it was. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap27"></a>Chapter XXVII</h3> + +<p> +All this while Michael had been in daily communication with Sam, as well as +with Will French, who with Hester’s help had kept the rooms in the alley +going, though they reported that the head had been sorely missed. +</p> + +<p> +Sam had reported daily progress with the house and about two weeks before +Michael’s release from quarantine announced that everything was done, +even to the papering of the walls and oiling of the floors. +</p> + +<p> +A fire had been burning in the furnace and fireplaces for several weeks, so the +plaster was thoroughly dry, and it was Michael’s plan that Starr and her +father were to go straight down to the farm as soon as they were free to leave +the house. +</p> + +<p> +To this end Hester and Will had been given daily commissions to purchase this +and that needful article of furniture, until now at last Michael felt that the +house would be habitable for Starr and her precious invalid. +</p> + +<p> +During the entire winter Michael had pleased himself in purchasing rugs here +and there, and charming, fitting, furniture for the house he was building. A +great many things,—the important things,—had already been selected, +and Michael knew he could trust Hester’s taste for the rest. For some +reason he had never said much to Starr about either Hester or Will, perhaps +because they had always seemed to him to belong to one another, and thus were +somewhat set apart from his own life. +</p> + +<p> +But one morning, Starr, coming into the library where Michael was telephoning +Hester about some last purchases she was making, overheard these words: +“All right Hester, you’ll know best of course, but I think you +better make it a dozen instead of a half. It’s better to have too many +than too few; and we might have company, you know.” +</p> + +<p> +Now, of course, Starr couldn’t possibly be supposed to know that it was a +question of dishes that was being discussed so intimately. In fact, she did not +stop to think what they were talking about; she only knew that he had called +this other girl “Hester”; and she suddenly became aware that during +all these weeks of pleasant intercourse, although she had addressed him as +Michael, he had carefully avoided using any name at all for her, except on one +or two occasions, substituting pronouns wherever possible. She had not noticed +this before, but when she heard that “Hester” in his pleasant +tones, her heart, brought the fact before her at once for invoice. Who was this +girl Hester? And why was she Hestered so carelessly as though he had a right? +Could it be possible that Michael was engaged to her? Why had she never thought +of it before? Of course it would be perfectly natural. This other girl had been +down in his dear alley, working shoulder to shoulder with him all these years, +and it was a matter of course that he must love her, Starr’s bright +morning that but a moment before had been filled with so much sunshine seemed +suddenly to cloud over with a blackness that blotted out all the joy; and +though she strove to hide it even from herself, her spirit was heavy with +something she did not understand. +</p> + +<p> +That evening Michael came into the library unexpectedly. He had been out in the +kitchen helping Morton to open a box that was refractory. He found the room +entirely dark, and thought he heard a soft sound like sobbing in one corner of +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“Starr!” he said. “Starr, is that you?” nor knew that +he had called her by her name, though she knew it very well indeed. She kept +quite still for an instant, and then she rose from the little crumpled heap in +the corner of the leather couch where she had dropped for a minute in the dark +to cry out the strange ache of her heart when she thought Michael was safely in +the kitchen for a while. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, yes, Michael!” she said, and her voice sounded choky, though +she was struggling to make it natural. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stepped to the doorway and turned on the hall lights so that he could +dimly see her little figure standing in the shadow. Then he came over toward +her, his whole heart yearning over her, but a mighty control set upon himself. +</p> + +<p> +“What is the matter—dear?” He breathed the last word almost +under his breath. He actually did not realize that he had spoken it aloud. It +seemed to envelope her with a deep tenderness. It broke her partial +self-control entirely and she sobbed again for a minute before she could speak. +</p> + +<p> +Oh, if he but dared to take that dear form into his arms and comfort her! If he +but dared! But he had no right! +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood still and struggled with his heart, standing quite near her, yet +not touching her. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my dear!” he breathed to himself, in an agony of love and +self-restraint. But she did not hear the breath. She was engaged in a struggle +of her own, and she seemed to remember that Hester-girl, and know her duty. She +must not let him see how she felt, not for anything in the world. He was kind +and tender. He had always been. He had denied himself and come here to stay +with them in their need because of his gratitude toward her father for all he +had done for him; and he had breathed that “dear” as he would have +done to any little child of the tenement whom he found in trouble. Oh, she +understood, even while she let the word comfort her lonely heart. Why, oh why +had she been left to trifle with a handsome scoundrel? Why hadn’t she +been worthy to have won the love of a great man like this one? +</p> + +<p> +These thoughts rushed through her brain so rapidly that they were not +formulated at all. Not until hours afterward did she know they had been +thought; but afterwards she sorted them out and put them in array before her +troubled heart. +</p> + +<p> +A minute she struggled with her tears, and then in a sweet little voice, like a +tired, naughty child she broke out: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Michael, you’ve been so good to me—to us, I +mean—staying here all these weeks and not showing a bit of impatience +when you had all that great work in the world to do—and I’ve just +been thinking how perfectly horrid I was to you last winter—the things I +said and wrote to you—and how I treated you when you were trying to save +me from an awful fate! I’m so ashamed, and so thankful! It all came over +me tonight what I owed you, and I can’t ever thank you. Can you forgive +me for the horrid way I acted, and for passing you on the street that Sunday +without speaking to you—I’m so ashamed! Will you forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +She put out her little hands with a pathetic motion toward him in the half +light of the room, and he took them in both his great warm ones and held them +in his firm grasp, his whole frame thrilling with her sweet touch. +“Forgive you, little Starr!” he breathed—“I never +blamed you—” And there is no telling what might not have happened +if the doctor had not just then unexpectedly arrived to perfect the +arrangements for their going to the farm. +</p> + +<p> +When Michael returned from letting the doctor out, Starr had fled upstairs to +her room; when they met the next morning it was with the bustle of preparation +upon them; and each cast shy smiling glances toward the other. Starr knew that +she was forgiven, but she also knew that there was a wall reared between them +that had not been there before, and her heart ached with the knowledge. +Nevertheless, it was a happy morning, and one could not be absolutely miserable +in the company of Michael, with a father who was recovering rapidly, and the +prospect of seeing him and going with him into the beautiful out-of-doors +within a few hours. +</p> + +<p> +Michael went about the work of preparing to go with a look of solemn joy. +Solemn because he felt that the wonderful companionship he had had alone with +Starr was so soon to end. Joyful because he could be with her still and know +she had passed through the danger of the terrible disease and come safely out +of the shadow with her beauty as vivid as ever. Besides, he might always serve +her, and they were friends now, not enemies—that was a great deal! +</p> + +<p> +The little world of Old Orchard stood on tiptoe that lovely spring morning when +the party came down. The winding road that led to the cottage was arched all +over with bursting bloom, for the apple trees had done their best at decorating +for the occasion and made a wondrous canopy of pink and white for Starr to see +as she passed under. +</p> + +<p> +Not a soul was in sight as they drove up to the cottage save Sam, standing +respectfully to receive them in front of the piazza, and Lizzie, vanishing +around the corner of the cottage with her pretty boy toddling after—for +Lizzie had come down to be a waitress at Rose Cottage for the summer;—but +every soul on the farm was watching at a safe distance. For Sam, without +breathing a word, had managed to convey to them all the knowledge that those +who were coming as their guests were beloved of Michael, their angel-hearted +man. As though it had been a great ceremony they stood in silent, adoring +groups behind a row of thick hedges and watched them arrive, each one glorying +in the beauty of her whom in their hearts they called “the boss’s +girl.” +</p> + +<p> +The room stood wide and inviting to receive them. There was a fire of logs on +the great hearth, and a deep leather chair drawn up before it, with a smaller +rocker at one side, and a sumptuous leather coach for the invalid just to the +side of the fireplace, where the light of the flames would not strike the eyes, +yet the warmth would reach him. Soft greens and browns were blended in the silk +pillows that were piled on the couch and on the seats that appeared here and +there about the walls as if they grew by nature. The book-case was filled with +Michael’s favorites, Will French had seen to this, and a few were +scattered on the big table where a green shaded lamp of unique design, a +freshly cut magazine, and a chair drawn at just the right angle suggested a +pleasant hour in the evening. There were two or three pictures—these +Michael had selected at intervals as he learned to know more about art from his +study at the exhibitions. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” breathed Starr. “How lovely! It is a real home!” +and the thought struck her that it would probably be Michael’s and +Hester’s some day. However, she would not let shadows come spoiling her +good time now, for it <i>was</i> her good time and she had a right to it; and +she too was happy in the thought that she and Michael were friends, the kind of +friends that can never be enemies again. +</p> + +<p> +The invalid sank into the cushions of the couch with a pleased light in his +eyes and said: “Son, this is all right. I’m glad you bought the +farm,” and Michael turned with a look of love to the man who had been the +only father he had ever known. It was good, good to be reconciled with him, and +to know that he was on the road to health once more. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor who had come down with them looked about with satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see but you are fixed,” he said to Endicott. +“I wouldn’t mind being in your shoes myself. Wish I could stay and +help you enjoy yourself. If I had a pair of children like those I’d give +up work and come buy a farm alongside, and settle down for life.” +</p> + +<p> +The days at the farm passed in a sort of charmed existence for Starr and her +father. Everything they needed seemed to come as if by magic. Every wish of +Starr’s was anticipated, and she was waited upon devotedly by Lizzie, who +never by so much as a look tried to win recognition. Starr, however, always +keen in her remembrances, knew and appreciated this. +</p> + +<p> +After the first two days Michael was back and forth in the city. His business, +which had been steadily growing before his temporary retirement from the world, +had piled up and was awaiting his attention. His work in the alley called +loudly for him every night, yet he managed to come down to the farm often and +spent all his Sundays there. +</p> + +<p> +It was one Saturday evening about three weeks after their arrival at the farm, +when they were all seated cosily in the living room of the cottage, the invalid +resting on the couch in the shadow, Starr seated close beside him, the +firelight glowing on her face, her hand in her father’s; and Michael by +the table with, a fresh magazine which he was about to read to them, that a +knock came at the door. +</p> + +<p> +Opening the door, Michael found Sam standing on the piazza, and another dark +form huddled behind Him. +</p> + +<p> +“Come out here, can’t yer, Buck’s here!” whispered Sam. +</p> + +<p> +“Buck!” Michael spoke the word with a joyful ring that thrilled +Starr’s heart with sympathy as she sat listening, her ears alert with +interest. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m so glad! So glad!” said Michael’s voice again, +vibrant with real welcome. “Come in, Buck, I’ve a friend in here +who knows all about you. No, don’t be afraid. You’re perfectly +safe. What? Through the windows? Well, we’ll turn the light out and sit +in the firelight. You can go over in that corner by the fireplace. No one will +see you. The shades are down.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s voice was low, and he stood within the doorway, but Starr, +because she understood the need, heard every word. +</p> + +<p> +There was dissent in a low whisper outside, and then Sam’s voice growled, +“Go on in, Buck, ef he says so.” and Buck reluctantly entered, +followed by Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Buck was respectably dressed in an old suit of Sam’s, with his hands and +face carefully washed and his hair combed. Sam had imbibed ideas and was not +slow to impart them. But Buck stood dark and frowning against the closed door, +his hunted eyes like black coals in a setting of snow, went furtively around +the room in restless vigilance. His body wore the habitual air of crouching +alertness. He started slightly when anyone moved or spoke to him. Michael went +quickly over to the table and turned down the lamp. +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t mind sitting in the firelight, will you?” he said +to Starr in a low tone, and her eyes told him that she understood. +</p> + +<p> +“Come over here, Buck,” said Michael motioning toward the sheltered +corner on the other side of the fireplace from where Starr was sitting. +“This is one of my friends, Miss Endicott, Mr. Endicott. Will you excuse +us if we sit here and talk a few minutes? Miss Endicott, you remember my +telling you of Buck?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr with sudden inspiration born of the moment, got up and went over to where +the dark-browed Buck stood frowning and embarrassed in the chimney corner and +put out her little roseleaf of a hand to him. Buck looked at it in dismay and +did not stir. +</p> + +<p> +“Why don’t yer shake?” whispered Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Then with a grunt of astonishment Buck put out his rough hand and underwent the +unique experience of holding a lady’s hand in his. The hunted eyes looked +up startled to Starr’s and like a flash he saw a thought. It was as if +her eyes knew Browning’s poem and could express his thought to Buck in +language he could understand: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“All I could never be,<br> +All men ignored in me,<br> +This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.” +</p> + +<p> +Somehow, Starr, with her smile and her eyes, and her gentle manner, unknowingly +conveyed that thought to Buck! Poor, neglected, sinful Buck! And Michael, +looking on, knew what she had done, and blessed her in his heart. +</p> + +<p> +Buck sat down in the chimney corner, half in shadow with the lights from the +great log flaring over his face. The shades were all drawn down, the doors were +closed. He was surrounded by friendly faces. For a few minutes the hunted eyes +ceased their roving round the room, and rested on Starr’s sweet face as +she sat quietly, holding her father’s hand. It was a sight such as poor +Buck’s eyes had never rested upon in the whole of his checkered +existence, and for the moment he let the sweet wonder of it filter into his +dark, scarred soul, with blessed healing. Then he looked from Starr to +Michael’s fine face near by, tender with the joy of Buck’s coming, +anxious with what might be the outcome; and for a moment the heavy lines in +forehead and brow that Buck had worn since babyhood softened with a tender +look. Perhaps ’tis given, once to even the dullest soul to see, no matter +how low fallen, just what he might have been. +</p> + +<p> +They had been sitting thus for about fifteen minutes, quietly talking. Michael +intended to take Buck upstairs soon and question him, but, first he wanted time +to think what he must do. Then suddenly a loud knock startled them all, and as +Michael rose to go to the door there followed him the resounding clatter of the +tongs falling on the hearth. +</p> + +<p> +A voice with a knife edge to it cut through the room and made them all shiver. +</p> + +<p> +“Good evening, Mr. Endicott!” it said. “I’m sorry to +trouble you, but I’ve come on a most unpleasant errand. We’re after +an escaped criminal, and he was seen to enter your door a few minutes ago. Of +course I know your goodness of heart. You take ’em all in, but this one +is a jail bird! You’ll excuse me if I take him off your hands. I’ll +try to do it as quietly and neatly as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +The big, blustery voice ceased and Michael, looking at the sinister gleam of +dull metal in the hands of the men who accompanied the county sheriff, knew +that the crisis was upon him. The man, impatient, was already pushing past him +into the room. It was of no sort of use to resist. He flung the door wide and +turned with the saddest look Starr thought she ever had seen on the face of a +man: +</p> + +<p> +“I know,” he said, and his voice was filled with sorrow, “I +know—but—he was one whom I loved!” +</p> + +<p> +“Wasted love! Mr. Endicott. Wasted love. Not one of ’em worth +it!” blustered the big man walking in. +</p> + +<p> +Then Michael turned and faced the group around the fireplace and looking from +one to another turned white with amazement, for Buck was not among them! +</p> + +<p> +Starr sat beside her father in just the same attitude she had held throughout +the last fifteen minutes, his hand in hers, her face turned, startled, toward +the door, and something inscrutable in her eyes. Sam stood close beside the +fireplace, the tongs which he had just picked up in his hands, and a look of +sullen rage upon his face. Nowhere in the whole wide room was there a sign of +Buck, and there seemed no spot where he could hide. The door into the +dining-room was on the opposite wall, and behind it the cheerful clatter of the +clearing off of the table could be plainly heard. If Buck had escaped that way +there would have been an outcry from Morton or the maid. Every window had its +shade closely drawn. +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff looked suspiciously at Michael whose blank face plainly showed he +had no part in making way with the outlaw. The men behind him looked sharply +round and finished with a curious gaze at Starr. Starr, rightly interpreting +the scene, rose to the occasion. +</p> + +<p> +“Would they like to look behind this couch?” she said moving +quickly to the other side of the fireplace over toward the window, with a +warning glance toward Sam. +</p> + +<p> +Then while the men began a fruitless search around the room, looking in the +chimney closet, and behind the furniture, she took up her stand beside the +corner window. +</p> + +<p> +It had been Michael’s thoughtfulness that had arranged that all the +windows should have springs worked by the pressing of a button like some car +windows, so that a touch would send them up at will. +</p> + +<p> +Only Sam saw Starr’s hand slide under the curtain a second, and unfasten +the catch at the top; then quickly down and touch the button in the window +sill. The window went up without a noise, and in a moment more the curtain was +moving out gently puffed by the soft spring breeze, and Starr had gone back to +her father’s side. “I cannot understand it,” said Michael, +“he was here a moment ago!” +</p> + +<p> +The sheriff who had been nosing about the fireplace turned and came over to the +window, sliding up the shade with a motion and looking out into the dark +orchard. +</p> + +<p> +“H’m! That’s where he went, boys,” he said. +“After him quick! We ought to have had a watch at each window as well as +at the back. Thank you, Mr. Endicott! Sorry to have troubled you. Good +night!” and the sheriff clattered after his men. +</p> + +<p> +Sam quickly pulled down the window, fastening it, and turned a look of almost +worshipful understanding on Starr. +</p> + +<p> +“Isn’t that fire getting pretty hot for such a warm night?” +said Starr pushing back the hair from her forehead and bright cheeks. +“Sam, suppose you get a little water and pour over that log. I think we +will not need any more fire tonight anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +And Sam, quickly hastened to obey, his mouth stretching in a broad grin as he +went out the door. +</p> + +<p> +“She’d make a peach of a burglar,” he remarked to himself as +he filled a bucket with water and hurried back with it to the fire. +</p> + +<p> +Michael, in his strait betwixt law and love, was deeply troubled and had +followed the men out into the dark orchard. +</p> + +<p> +“Daddy, I think you’d better get up to your room. This excitement +has been too much for you,” said Starr decidedly. +</p> + +<p> +But Mr. Endicott demurred. He had been interested in the little drama that had +been enacted before him, and he wanted to sit up and see the end of it. He was +inclined to blame Michael for bringing such a fellow into Starr’s +presence. +</p> + +<p> +But Starr laughingly bundled him off to bed and sat for an hour reading to him, +her heart all the time in a flutter to know how things came out, wondering if +Sam surely understood, and put out the fire; and if it would be safe for her to +give him any broader hint. +</p> + +<p> +At midnight, Michael lay broad awake with troubled spirit, wondering over and +over if there was anything he might have done for Buck if he had only done it +in time—anything that would have been right to do. +</p> + +<p> +Softly, cautiously a man stole out of the darkness of the orchard until he came +and stood close to the old chimney, and then, softly stealing on the midnight +summer air there came a peculiar sibilant sound, clear, piercing, yet blending +with the night, and leaving no trace behind of its origin. One couldn’t +tell from whence it came. But Michael, keeping vigil, heard, and rose upon his +elbow, alert, listening. Was that Buck calling him? It came again, softer this +time, but distinct. Michael sprang from his bed and began hastily throwing on +his garments. That call should never go unanswered! +</p> + +<p> +Stealthily, in the light of the low, late moon, a dark figure stole forth from +the old chimney top, climbed down on the ladder that had been silently tilted +against it, helped to lay the ladder back innocently in the deep grass again, +and joining the figure on the ground crept away toward the river where waited a +boat. +</p> + +<p> +Buck lay down, in the bottom of the boat, covered with a piece of sacking, and +Sam took up the oars, when a long, sibilant whistle like a night bird floated +keenly through the air. Buck started up and turned suspicious eyes on Sam: +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s Mikky, I reckon,” said Sam softly, reverently. +“He couldn’t sleep. He’s huntin’ yer!” +</p> + +<p> +Buck lay down with a sound that was almost a moan and the boat took up its +silent glide toward safety. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s fierce ter leave him this ’a’way!” muttered +Buck, “Yous tell him, won’t yer, an’ her—she’s a +ly-dy, she is. She’s all white! Tell her Buck’ll do ez much fer her +some day ef he ever gits the chanct.” +</p> + +<p> +“In doin’ fer her you’d be doin’ fer him, I +spekullate,” said Sam after a long pause. +</p> + +<p> +“So?” said Buck +</p> + +<p> +“So,” answered Sam. And that was the way Sam told Buck of the +identity of Starr. +</p> + +<p> +Now Starr, from her darkened window beside the great chimney, had watched the +whole thing. She waited until she saw Michael come slowly, sadly back from his +fruitless search through the mist before the dawning, alone, with bowed head; +and her heart ached for the problem that was filling him with sorrow. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap28"></a>Chapter XXVIII</h3> + +<p> +Starr was coming up to the city for a little shopping on the early morning +train with Michael. The summer was almost upon her and she had not prepared her +apparel. Besides, she was going away in a few days to be bridesmaid at the +wedding of an old school friend who lived away out West; and secretly she told +herself she wanted the pleasure of this little trip to town with Michael. +</p> + +<p> +She was treasuring every one of these beautiful days filled with precious +experiences, like jewels to be strung on memory’s chain, with a vague +unrest lest some close-drawing future was to snatch them from her forever. She +wished with all her heart that she had given a decided refusal to her +friend’s pleading, but the friend had put off the wedding on her account +to wait until she could leave her father; and her father had joined his +insistance that she should go away and have the rest and change after the +ordeal of the winter. So Starr seemed to have to go, much as she would rather +have remained. She had made a secret vow to herself that she would return at +once after the wedding in spite of all urgings to remain with the family who +had invited her to stay all summer with them. Starr had a feeling that the days +of her companionship with Michael might be short. She must make the most of +them. It might never be the same again after her going away. She was not sure +even that her father would consent to remain all summer at the farm as Michael +urged. +</p> + +<p> +And on this lovely morning she was very happy at the thought of going with +Michael. The sea seemed sparkling with a thousand gems as the train swept along +its shore, and Michael told her of his first coming down to see the farm, +called her attention to the flowers along the way: and she assured him Old +Orchard was far prettier than any of them, now that the roses were all +beginning to bud. It would soon be Rose Cottage indeed! +</p> + +<p> +Then the talk fell on Buck and his brief passing. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder where he can be and what he is doing,” sighed Michael. +“If he only could have stayed, long enough for me to have a talk with +him. I believe I could have persuaded him to a better way. It is the greatest +mystery in the world how he got away with those men watching the house. I +cannot understand it.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr, her cheeks rosy, her eyes shining mischievously, looked up at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Haven’t you the least suspicion where he was hiding?” she +asked. +</p> + +<p> +Michael looked down at her with a sudden start, and smiled into her lovely +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, no. Have you?” he said, and could not keep the worship from +his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course. I knew all the time. Do you think it was very dreadful for me +not to tell? I couldn’t bear to have him caught that way before +you’d had a chance to help him; and when he used to be so good to you as +a little boy; besides, I saw his face, that terrible, hunted look; there +wasn’t anything really wrong in my opening that window and throwing them +off the track, was there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you open the window?” +</p> + +<p> +Starr nodded saucily. “Yes, and Sam saw me do it. Sam knew all about it. +Buck went up the chimney right through that hot fire. Didn’t you hear the +tongs fall down? He went like a flash before you opened the door, and one foot +was still in sight when that sheriff came in. I was so afraid he’d see +it. Was it wrong?” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose it was,” he said sadly. “The law must be +maintained. It can’t be set aside for one fellow who has touched +one’s heart by some childhood’s action. But right or wrong I +can’t help being glad that you cared to do something for poor +Buck.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I did it mostly for—you?” she said softly, her eyes +still down. +</p> + +<p> +For answer, Michael reached out his hand and took her little gloved one that +lay in her lap in a close pressure for just an instant. Then, as if a mighty +power were forcing him, he laid it gently down again and drew his hand away. +</p> + +<p> +Starr felt the pressure of that strong hand and the message that it gave +through long days afterward, and more than once it gave her strength and +courage and good cheer. Come what might, she had a friend—a friend strong +and true as an angel. +</p> + +<p> +They spoke no more till the train swept into the station and they had hurried +through the crowd and were standing on the front of the ferryboat, with the +water sparkling before their onward gliding and the whole, great, wicked, +stirring city spread before their gaze, the light from the cross on Trinity +Church steeple flinging its glory in their faces. +</p> + +<p> +“Look!” said Michael pointing. “Do you remember the poem we +were reading the other night: Wordsworth’s ‘Upon Westminster +Bridge.’ Doesn’t it fit this scene perfectly? I’ve often +thought of it when I was coming across in the mornings. To look over there at +the beauty one would never dream of all the horror and wickedness and suffering +that lies within those streets. It is beautiful now. Listen! Do you remember +it? +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘Earth has not anything to show more fair:<br> +Dull would he be of soul who could pass by<br> +A sight so touching in its majesty:<br> +This City now doth like a garment wear<br> +The beauty of the morning: silent, bare,<br> +Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie<br> +Open unto the fields, and to the sky,<br> +All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.<br> +Never did sun more beautifully steep<br> +In his first splendour valley, rock, or hill;<br> +Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!<br> +The river glideth at its own sweet will:<br> +Dear God! The very houses seem asleep;<br> +And all that mighty heart is lying still!’” +</p> + +<p> +Starr looked long at the picture before her, and then at the face of her +companion speaking the beautiful lines word by word as one draws in the +outlines of a well-loved picture. +</p> + +<p> +Michael’s hat was off and the beauty of the morning lay in sunlight on +his hair and cheek and brow. Her heart swelled within her as she looked and +great tears filled her eyes. She dared not look longer lest she show her deep +emotion. The look of him, the words he spoke, and the whole wonderful scene +would linger in her memory as long as life should last. +</p> + +<p> +Two days later Starr started West, and life seemed empty for Michael. She was +gone from him, but still she would come back. Or, would she come back after +all? How long could he hope to keep her if she did? Sad foreboding filled him +and he went about his work with set, strained nerves; for now he knew that +right or wrong she was heart of his heart, part of his consciousness. He loved +her better than himself; and he saw no hope for himself at all in trying to +forget. Yet, never, never, would he ask her to share the dishonor of his +heritage. +</p> + +<p> +The day before Starr was expected to come back to Old Orchard Michael took up +the morning paper and with rising horror read: +</p> + +<p class="center"> +BANDIT WOUNDED AS FOUR HOLD UP TRAIN. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +Express Messenger Protects Cash During Desperate Revolver Duel in Car. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Fort Smith, Ark.—Four bandits bungled the hold-up of a Kansas City +passenger train, between Hatfield and Mena, Ark., early today. One was probably +fatally wounded and captured and the others escaped after a battle with the +Express Messenger in which the messenger exhausted his ammunition and was badly +beaten.<br> + When the other robbers escaped the wounded bandit eluded the conductor, and +made his way into the sleeper, where he climbed into an empty berth. But he was +soon traced by the drops of blood from his wound. The conductor and a brakeman +hauled him out and battled with him in the aisle amid the screams of +passengers.<br> + The bandit aimed his revolver at the conductor and fired, but a sudden +unsteady turn of his wrist sent the bullet into himself instead of the +conductor. The wounded bandit received the bullet in his left breast near the +heart and will probably die. The Express Messenger is in the hospital at Mena +and may recover.<br> + Had the bullet of the bandit gone as intended it would more than likely +have wounded one or two women passengers, who at the sound of trouble had +jumped from their berths into the aisle and were directly in the path of the +bullet.<br> + There is some likelihood that the captured bandit may prove to be the +escaped convict, named “Buck,” who was serving long sentence in the +state penitentiary, and for whom the police have been searching in vain for the +last three months. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was white and trembling when he had finished reading this account. And +was this then to be the end of Buck. Must he die a death like that? Disgrace +and sin and death, and no chance to make good? Michael groaned aloud and bowed +his head upon the table before him, his heart too heavy even to try to think it +out. +</p> + +<p> +That evening a telegram reached him from Arkansas. +</p> + +<p> +“A man named ‘Buck’ is dying here, and calls incessantly for +you. If you wish to see him alive come at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Michael took the midnight train. Starr had telegraphed her father she would +reach Old Orchard in the morning. It was hard to have to go when, she was just +returning. Michael wondered if it would always be so now. +</p> + +<p> +Buck roused at Michael’s coming and smiled feebly. +</p> + +<p> +“Mikky! I knowed you’d come!” he whispered feebly. +“I’m done for, pardner. I ain’t long fer here, but I +couldn’t go ’thout you knowin’. I’d meant to git +jes’ this one haul an’ git away to some other country where it was +safe, ’nen I was goin’ to try’n keep straight like you would +want. I would a’got trough all right, but I seen her,—the pretty +lady,—your girl,—standing in the aisle right ahin’ the +c’ndct’r, jes’ es I wuz pullin’ the trigger knowed her +right off, ’ith her eyes shinin’ like two stars; an’ I +couldn’t run no resks. I ain’t never bin no bungler at my trade, +but I hed to bungle this time ’cause I couldn’t shoot your girl! So +I turned it jes’ in time an’ took it mese’f. She seen how +’twas ’ith me that time at your house, an’ she he’ped +me git away. I sent her word I’d do the same fer her some day, bless +her—an’ now—you tell her we’re square! I done the +bunglin’ fer her sake, but I done it fer you too, pard—little +pard—Mikky!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Buck!” Michael knelt beside the poor bed and buried his face +in the coverlet. “Oh, Buck! If you’d only had my chance!” he +moaned. +</p> + +<p> +“Never you mind, Mikky! I ain’t squealin’. I knows how to +take my dose. An’ mebbe, they’ll be some kind of a collidge whar +I’m goin’, at I kin get a try at yet—don’t you fret, +little pard—ef I git my chancet I’ll take it fer your sake!” +</p> + +<p> +The life breath seemed to be spent with the effort and Buck sank slowly into +unconsciousness and so passed out of a life that had been all against him. +</p> + +<p> +Michael after doing all the last little things that were permitted him, sadly +took his way home again. +</p> + +<p> +He reached the city in the morning and spent several hours putting to rights +his business affairs; but by noon he found himself so unutterably weary that he +took the two o’clock train down to the farm. Sam met him at the station. +Sam somehow seemed to have an intuition when to meet him, and the two gripped +hands and walked home together across the salt grass, Michael telling in low, +halting tones all that Buck had said. Sam kept his face turned the other way, +but once Michael got a view of it and he was sure there were tears on his +cheeks. To think of Sam having tears for anything! +</p> + +<p> +Arrived at the cottage Sam told him he thought that Mr. Endicott was taking his +afternoon nap upstairs, and that Miss Endicott had gone to ride with +“some kind of a fancy woman in a auto” who had called to see her. +</p> + +<p> +Being very weary and yet unwilling to run the risk of waking Mr. Endicott by +going upstairs, Michael asked Sam to bolt the dining-room door and give orders +that he should not be disturbed for an hour; then he lay down on the leather +couch in the living-room. +</p> + +<p> +The windows were open all around and the sweet breath of the opening roses +stole in with the summer breeze, while the drone of bees and the pure notes of +a song sparrow lulled him to sleep. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h3><a name="chap29"></a>Chapter XXIX</h3> + +<p> +Michael had slept perhaps an hour when he was roused by the sound of voices, a +sharp, hateful one with an unpleasant memory in it, and a sweet, dear one that +went to his very soul. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down here, Aunt Frances. There is no one about: Papa is asleep and +Michael has not yet returned from a trip out West. You can talk without fear of +being heard.” +</p> + +<p> +“Michael, Michael!” sniffed the voice. “Well, that’s +what I came to talk to you about. I didn’t want to say anything out there +where the chauffeur could hear; he is altogether too curious and might talk +with the servants about it. I wouldn’t have it get out for the world. +Your mother would have been mortified to death about all this, and I +can’t see what your father is thinking about. He never did seem to have +much sense where you were concerned—!” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I can’t help it. He doesn’t. Now take this matter of +your being down here, and the very thought of you’re calling that fellow +Michael,—as if he were a cousin or something! Why, it’s simply +disgusting! I hoped you were going to stay out West until your father was well +enough to go away somewhere with you; but now that you have come back I think +you ought to leave here at once. People will begin to talk, and I don’t +like it. Why, the fellow will be presuming on it to be intimate with +you—” +</p> + +<p> +Michael was suddenly roused to the fact that he was listening to a conversation +not intended for his ears, and yet he had no way of getting out of hearing +without passing the door in the front of which the two women were seated. Both +the dining-room, door and the stairs were on the other side of the room from +him and he would have to run the risk of being seen, by either or both of them +if he attempted to cross to them. The windows were screened by wire nailed over +the whole length, so he could not hope to get successfully out of any of them. +There was nothing for it but to lie still, and pretend to be asleep if they +discovered him afterwards. It was an embarrassing situation but it was none of +his choosing. +</p> + +<p> +There was a slight stir outside, Starr had risen, and was standing with her +back to the doorway. +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances! What do you mean? Michael is our honored and respected +friend, our protector—our—host. Think what he did for papa! Risked +his life!” +</p> + +<p> +“Stuff and nonsense! Risked his life. He took the risk for perfectly good +reasons. He knew how to worm himself into the family again—” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances! I will not hear you say such dreadful things. Michael is a +gentleman, well-educated, with the highest ideals and principles. If you knew +how self-sacrificing and kind he is!” +</p> + +<p> +“Kind, yes kind!” sniffed the aunt, “and what will you think +about it when he asks you to marry him? Will you think he is kind to offer you +a share in the inheritance of a nobody—a charity—dependent—a +child of the slums? If you persist in your foolishness of staying here you will +presently have all New York gossiping about you, and then when you are in +disgrace—I suppose you will turn to me to help you out of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” cried Starr. “I will not listen to another word. What +do you mean by disgrace? There could be no disgrace in marrying Michael. The +girl who marries him will be the happiest woman in the whole world. He is good +and true and unselfish to the heart’s core. There isn’t the +slightest danger of his ever asking me to marry him, Aunt Frances, because I am +very sure he loves another girl and is engaged to marry her; and she is a nice +girl too. But if it were different, if he were free and asked me to marry him I +would feel as proud and glad as if a prince of the highest realm had asked me +to share his throne with him. I would rather marry Michael than any man I ever +met, and I don’t care in the least whether he is a child of the slums or +a child of a king. I know what he is, and he is a prince among men.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, really! Has it come to this? Then you are in love with him already +and my warning comes too late, does it? Answer me! Do you fancy yourself in +love with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Aunt Frances, you have no right to ask me that question,” said +Starr steadily, her cheeks very red and her eyes very bright. +</p> + +<p> +Michael was sitting bolt upright on the couch now, utterly forgetful of the +dishonor of eavesdropping, fairly holding his breath to listen and straining +his ears that he might lose no slightest word. He was devouring the dear, +straight, little form in the doorway with his eyes, and her every word fell on +his tired heart like raindrops in a thirsty land, making the flowers of hope +spring forth and burst into lovely bloom. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I do ask it!” snapped the aunt hatefully. “Come, +answer me, do you love him?” +</p> + +<p> +“That, Aunt Frances, I shall never answer to anybody but Michael. I must +refuse to hear another word on this subject.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, very well, good-bye. I’ll leave you to your silly fate, but +don’t expect me to help you out of trouble if you get into it. I’ve +warned you and I wash my hands of you,” and the angry woman flouted out +to her waiting car, but the girl stood still in the doorway and said with +dignity: +</p> + +<p> +“Good afternoon, Aunt Frances. I shall never ask your help in any +way.” +</p> + +<p> +Starr watched the car out of sight, great tears welling into her eyes and +rolling down her cheeks. Michael sat breathless on the couch and tried to think +what he ought to do; while his very being was rippling with the joy of the +words she had spoken. +</p> + +<p> +Then she turned and saw him, and he stood up and held out his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Starr, my little Starr! My darling! Did you mean all you said? Would you +really marry me? I’ve loved you always, Starr, since first I saw you a +tiny little child; I’ve loved your soft baby kisses and those others you +gave me later when you were a little girl and I an awkward boy. You never knew +how dear they were, nor how I used to go to sleep at night dreaming over and +over again, those kisses on my face. Oh, Starr! answer me? Did you mean it all? +And could you ever love me? You said you would answer that question to no one +else but me. Will you answer it now, darling?” +</p> + +<p> +For answer she came and stood within his arms, her eyes down-drooped, her face +all tears and smiles, and he folded her within his strong clasp and stooping, +whispered softly: +</p> + +<p> +“Starr, little darling—my life—my +love—my—<i>wife</i>!” +</p> + +<p> +And then he laid his lips against hers and held her close. +</p> + +<p class="p2"> + +Three weeks later when the roses were all aburst of bloom over the porch at +Rose Cottage and June was everywhere with her richness and perfection of +beauty, Starr and Michael were married on the piazza under an arch of roses; +and a favored few of society’s cream motored down to Old Orchard to +witness the ceremony. In spite of all her disagreeable predictions and ugly +threats Aunt Frances was among them, smiling and dominating. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, so sensible of her not to make a fuss with her wedding just now, +when her father is getting his strength back again. Of course she could have +come to my house and been married. I begged her to—naturally she shrank +from another wedding in connection with the old home you know—but her +father seemed to dread coming into town and so I advised her to go ahead and be +married here. Isn’t it a charming place? So rustic you know, and quite +simple and artistic too in its way. Michael has done it all, planned the house +and everything, of course with Starr’s help. You know it’s quite a +large estate, belonged to Michael’s great grandfather once, several +hundred acres, and he has used part of it for charitable purposes; has a farm +school or something for poor slum people, and is really teaching them to be +quite decent. I’m sure I hope they’ll be duly grateful. See those +roses? Aren’t they perfectly <i>dear</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +It was so she chattered to those in the car with her all the way down to the +farm; and to see her going about among the guests and smiling and posing to +Michael when he happened to come near her, you would have thought the match all +of her making, and never have dreamed that it was only because Michael’s +great forgiving heart had said: “Oh, forgive her and ask her down. She is +your mother’s sister, you know, and you’ll be glad you did it +afterwards. Never mind what she says. She can’t help her notions. It was +her unfortunate upbringing, and she’s as much to be pitied as I for my +slum education.” +</p> + +<p> +The pretty ceremony under the roses was over, and Starr had gone upstairs to +change the simple embroidered muslin for her travelling frock and motor coat, +for Michael and Starr were to take their honeymoon in their own new car, a +wedding gift from their father; and Endicott himself was to go to his +sister’s by rail in the company of Will French, to stay during their +absence and be picked up by them on their homeward route. +</p> + +<p> +Michael stood among his friends on the piazza giving last directions to French +who was to look after his law business also during his absence, and who was +eager to tell his friend how he and Hester had planned to be married early in +the fall and were to go to housekeeping in a five-roomed flat that might have +been a palace from the light in Will’s eyes. Hester was talking with +Lizzie who had edged near the porch with her pretty boy hiding shyly behind +her, but the smile that Hester threw in Will’s direction now and then +showed she well knew what was his subject of conversation. +</p> + +<p> +All the little colony had been gathered in the orchard in front of the rose +arch, to watch the wedding ceremony, and many of them still lingered there to +see the departure of the beloved bride and groom. Aunt Frances levelled her +lorgnette at them with all the airs of her departed sister, and exclaimed +“Aren’t they picturesque? It’s quite like the old country to +have so many servants and retainers gathered about adoring, now isn’t +it!” And a young and eager debutante who was a distant cousin of +Starr’s. replied: +</p> + +<p> +“I think it’s perfectly peachy, Aunt Frances.” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly in one of Will’s eager perorations about the flat and its +outlook Michael noticed the shy, eager look of Sam’s face as he waited +hungrily for notice. +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse me, Will, I must see Sam a minute,” said Michael hurrying +over to where the man stood. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, Mikky,” said Sam shyly, grasping Michael’s hand +convulsively, “me an’ Lizzie sort o’ made it up as how +we’d get tied, an’ we thought we’d do it now whiles +everybody’s at it, an’ things is all fixed Lizzie she wanted me to +ask you ef you ’sposed <i>she’d</i> mind, ef we’uns stood +thur on the verandy whur yous did, arter you was gone?” Sam looked at him +anxiously as though he had asked the half of Michael’s kingdom and +scarcely expected to get it, but Michael’s face was filled with glory as +he clasped the small hard hand of his comrade and gripped it with his mighty +hearty grip. +</p> + +<p> +“Mind! She’d be delighted, Sam! Go ahead. I’m sorry we +didn’t know it before. We’d have liked to give you a present, but +I’ll send you the deed of the little white cottage at the head of the +lane, the one that looks toward the river and the sunset, you know. Will you +two like to live there?” +</p> + +<p> +Sam’s eyes grew large with happiness, and a mist came over them as he +held tight to the great hand that enclosed his own, and choked and tried to +answer. +</p> + +<p> +Amid a shower of roses and cheers Michael and Starr rode into the sweet June +afternoon, alone together at last. And when they had gone beyond the little +town, and were on a stretch of quiet woodsy road, Michael stopped the car and +took his bride into his arms. +</p> + +<p> +“Dear,” he said as he tenderly kissed her, “I’ve just +been realizing what might have happened if Buck hadn’t seen you in time +and taken the shot himself that I might have you, my life, my dear, precious +wife!” +</p> + +<p> +Then Starr looked up with her eyes all dewy with tears and said, +“Michael, we must try to save a lot of others for his sake.” And +Michael smiled and pressed his lips to hers again, with deep, sweet +understanding. +</p> + +<p> +Then, when they were riding along again Michael told her of what Sam had asked, +and how another wedding was to follow theirs. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Michael!” said Starr, all eagerness at once, “Why +didn’t you tell me sooner! I would have liked to stay and see them +married. Couldn’t we turn around now and get there in time if you put on +high speed?” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll try,” said Michael reversing the car; and in an +instant more it was shooting back to Old Orchard, arriving on the scene just as +Sam and Lizzie were shyly taking their place, hand in hand, under the roses, in +as near imitation of Michael and Starr as their unaccustomedness could compass. +</p> + +<p> +It was Jim who discovered the car coming up the orchard lane. +</p> + +<p> +“For de lub o’ Mike!” he exclaimed aloud. “Ef here +don’t come Mikky hisse’f, and <i>her</i>! Hold up dar, Mister +preacher. Don’t tie de knot till dey gits here!” +</p> + +<p> +And a cheer arose loud and long and echoed through the trees and over the river +to the sea. Three cheers for the love of Michael! +</p> + +<p> +Sam and Lizzie bloomed forth with smiles, and the ceremony went forward with, +alacrity now that the real audience was present. +</p> + +<p> +An hour later, having done their part to make the wedding festivities as joyous +as their own had been, Michael and Starr started out again into the waning day, +a light on their faces and joy in their hearts. +</p> + +<p> +Starr, her heart very full, laid her hand upon Michael’s and said with +shining eyes: +</p> + +<p> +“Michael, do you know, I found a name for you. Listen: ‘And at that +time shall Michael stand up, the great prince which standeth for the children +of thy people: and at that time thy people shall be delivered, every one that +shall be found written in the book.’ Michael, you are <i>my +prince</i>!” +</p> + +<p> +And Michael as he stooped and kissed her, murmured, “My Starr.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LO, MICHAEL! ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. 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