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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9993-8.txt b/9993-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6f8f3be --- /dev/null +++ b/9993-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10808 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Captivating Mary Carstairs, by Henry Sydnor Harrison + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Captivating Mary Carstairs + +Author: Henry Sydnor Harrison + +Posting Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #9993] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: November 6, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + +BY + + +HENRY SYDNOR HARRISON + + +WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY R.M. CROSBY + +(_This book was first published pseudonymously in February, 1911_) + + + + +1910, 1914. + + + + +TO NAWNY: HER BOOK + + + + +_NOTE_ + + +_This book, representing the writer's first effort at a long story, has +something of a story of its own. First planned in 1900 or 1901, it was +begun in 1905, and finished at length, in a version, three years later. +Through the two years succeeding it underwent various adventures, +including, if memory serves, two complete overhauling. Having thus +reached by stages something like its present form, it was, in August, +1910, favorably reported on by the publishers; but yet another rewriting +preceded its final acceptance, a few weeks later. Meanwhile, I had +turned to fresh work; and, as it chanced, "Queed" was both begun and +finished in the interval while "Captivating Mary Carstairs" was taking +her last journeys abroad. Turned away by two publishers, the newer +manuscript shortly found welcome from a third. So it befell that I, as +yet more experienced in rejections, suddenly found myself with two +books, of widely different sorts and intentions, scheduled for +publication by different publishers, almost simultaneously. As this +seemed to be more books than society required from an unknown writer, it +was decided to put out the present story--which is a "story," as I +conceive the terms, and not a novel--over a pen name. + +At that time, be it said, with an optimism that now has its humorous +side, I viewed myself prospectively as a ready and fertile writer, +producing a steady flow of books of very various sorts. Hence it +occurred to me that a pseudonym might have a permament serviceability. +So far from these anticipations proving justified, I am now moved to +abandon the pseudonym in the only instance I have had occasion to use +it. Writers have sometimes been charged with seeking to capitalize their +own good fortune. My motive, in authorizing the republication of this +story over my name, is not that. The fact is only that experience has +taught me not to like pseudonymity: my feeling being that those who take +an interest in my work are entitled, if they so desire, to see it as a +whole_. + +H.S.H. + +_Charleston, West Virginia, 16 March, 1914_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I The Chief Conspirator Secures a Pal + +II They Embark upon a Crime + +III They Arrive in Hunston and Fall in with a Stranger + +IV Which Concerns Politics and other Local Matters + +V Introduces Mary Carstairs and Another + +VI The Hero Talks with a Lady in the Dark + +VII In which Mary Carstairs is Invited to the Yacht "Cypriani" + +VIII Concerning Mr. Ferris Stanhope, the Popular Novelist; also Peter, +the Quiet Onlooker + +IX Varney Meets with a Galling Rebuff, while Peter Goes Marching On + +X The Editor of the _Gazette_ Plays a Card from His Sleeve + +XI Which Shows the Hero a Fugitive + +XII A Yellow Journalist Secures a Scoop but Fails to Get Away with it + +XIII Varney Meets His Enemy and is Disarmed + +XIV Conference between Mr. Hackley, the Dog Man, and Mr. Ryan, the Boss + +XV In which Varney Does Not Pay a Visit, but Receives One + +XVI Wherein Several Large Difficulties are Smoothed Away + +XVII A Little Luncheon Party on the Yacht "Cypriani" + +XVIII Captivating Mary + +XIX In which Mr. Higginson and the Sailing-Master Both Merit Punishment, +and Both Escape it + +XX Varney, Having Embarked upon a Crime, Finds out that there is a Price +to Pay + +XXI Mr. Ferris Stanhope Meets His Double; and Lets the Double Meet +Everything Else + +XXII Relating How Varney Fails to Die; and Why Smith Remained in +Hunston; and How a Reception is Planned for Mr. Higginson + +XXIII In which Varney, after all, Redeems His Promise + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + + + +Captivating Mary Carstairs + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR SECURES A PAL + +In a rear room of a quaint little house uptown, a great bronzed-faced +man sat at a piano, a dead pipe between his teeth, and absently played +the most difficult of Beethoven's sonatas. Though he played it divinely, +the three men who sat smoking and talking in a near-by corner paid not +the least attention to him. The player, it seemed, did not expect them +to: he paid very little attention himself. + +Next to the selection of members, that is, no doubt, the most highly +prized thing about the Curzon Club: you are not expected to pay +attention unless you want to. It is a sanctuary where no one can bore +you, except yourself. The members have been chosen with this in mind, +and not chosen carelessly. + +Lord Pembroke, who married a Philadelphian, is quoted as saying that the +Curzon is the most democratic club in a too confoundedly democratic +country. M. Arly, the editor, has told Paris that it is the most +exclusive club in the world. Probably both were right. The electing +board is the whole club, and a candidate is stone-dead at the first +blackball; but no stigma attaches to him for that. Of course, it is a +small club. Also, though money is the least of all passports there, it +is a wealthy club. No stretch of the imagination could describe its dues +as low. But through its sons of plutocracy, and their never-ending +elation at finding themselves in, has arisen the Fund, by which poor but +honest men can join, and do join, with never a thought of ways and +means. Of these Herbert Horning, possibly the best-liked man in the +club, who supported a large family off the funny department of a +magazine, was one. He had spurned the suggestion when it was first made +to him, and had reluctantly foregone his election; whereon Peter +Maginnis had taken him aside, a dash of red in his ordinarily composed +eye. + +"How much?" he demanded brutally. + +"How much for what?" + +"How much for you?" roared Peter. "How much must the club pay you to get +you in?" + +Horning stared, pained. + +"God meant no man to be a self-conscious ass," said Peter more mildly. +"The club pays you a high compliment, and you have the nerve to reply +that you don't take charity. I suppose if Congress voted you a medal for +writing the funniest joke in America, you'd have it assayed and remit +the cash. Chuck it, will you? Once in a year we find a man we want, and +then we go ahead and take him. We don't think much of money here but--as +I say, how much?" + +The "but" implied that Horning did, and hurt as it was meant to. He came +into the club, took cheerfully what they offered him that way, and felt +grateful ever afterwards that Maginnis had steered him to the light. + +The big man, Maginnis himself, sat on at the piano, his great fingers +rambling deftly over the keys. He was playing Brahms now and doing it +magnificently. He was fifteen stone, all bone and muscle, and looked +thirty pounds heavier, because you imagined, mistakenly, that he carried +a little fat. He was the richest man in the club, at least so far as +prospects went, but he wore ready-made clothes, and one inferred, +correctly, that a suit of them lasted him a long time. He looked capable +of everything, but the fact was that he had done nothing. But for his +money and a past consisting of thirty years of idleness, he might have +been the happiest dog alive. + +"The best government," said one of the three men who were not listening +to the piano, "is simply the surest method for putting public opinion +into power." + +The sentence drifted over the player's shoulder and Brahms ended with a +crash. + +"Balzac said that," he cried, rising abruptly, "and said it better! But, +good heavens, how you both miss the point! Why, let me tell you." + +But this they stoutly declined to do. Amid laughter and protests--for +the big man's hobbies were well known to the club--two of them sprang up +in mock terror, and headed for the door. They indicated that they had +promised each other to play billiards and dared not break the +engagement. + +"I couldn't stay to the end, anyway, Peter," explained one, from the +door. "My wife sits up when I'm out after midnight. Meet me here for +breakfast some bank-holiday, and we'll give the day to it." + +Maginnis, who never got over feeling disappointed when he saw his +audience slipping away from him, sighed, searched through his frowzy +pockets for a match, lit his pipe, and fell upon a lounge near to all +the society that was left him. + +"Why weren't you up?" said this society presently. + +"The idea of dinner was repellent to me." + +"To you, Peter--the famous trencherman of song and story? Why this +unwonted daintiness?" + +"Lassitude. Too weary to climb the stairs. Besides, I wasn't hungry." + +"Ah," said Reggie Townes, "you have the caveman's idea of dinner, I see. +It strikes you as purely an occasion for purveying provender to man's +interior. The social feature eludes you. You know what I think, Peter? +You ought to go to work." + +"_Work!_" + +"That's the word. What of it?" + +"Not a thing. The idea was new to me; that's all." + +"Persiflage and all that aside, why don't you take a stab at politics?" + +"Politics! Here in New York! I'd sooner go into Avernus of the easy +descent. If you had a town to run all by yourself now, there might be +something in it. That idea of yours as to going to work, while +unquestionably novel, strikes me as rather clever." + +"No credit belongs to me," said Townes, "if I happened to be born +brilliant instead of good-looking." + +"I'll ponder it," said Peter; and stretching out his great hand with a +gesture which banished the subject, he pushed a service button and +begged Townes to be so kind as to name his poison. + +Outside in the hall a voice just then called his name, and Maginnis +answered. + +A young man in evening dress strolled through the doorway, a tallish, +lithe young man with a pleasant clean-cut face and very light hair. It +was evident enough that he patronized a good tailor. He glanced at the +two men, nodded absently, and dropped without speech into a chair near +the door. Townes eyed him somewhat quizzically. + +"Evening, Larry. A little introspective to-night, yes?" + +Peter said: "By bull luck you have stumbled into a company of gentlemen +about to place an order. Go ahead. Mention a preference." + +The young man, unseeing eyes on Peter, did not answer. Instead, he +sprang up, as though struck by a thought of marked interest and bolted +out the door. They saw him vanish into the telephone booth across the +hall and bang the glass door shut behind him. + +"Forgot an engagement." + +"You mean remembered one," said Peter. + +"It all figures out to the same answer," said Townes; and glancing +presently at his watch, he announced that he must be trotting on. + +"But I've ordered something for you, man." + +"Varney can use it, can't he?" + +The door opened, and the tallish young man stood on the threshold again, +this time social and affable. His distraitness, oddly enough, had all +gone. He greeted the two in the smoking-room as though he had seen them +for the first time that evening; expressed his pleasure at being in +their company; inquired after their healths and late pursuits; pressed +cigarettes upon them. + +They rallied him upon his furtive movements and fickle demeanor, but +drew only badinage in kind, and no explanations; and Townes, laughing, +turned to the door. + +"Dally with us yet a little while, Reggie." + +"No, gentles, no! I'm starting abroad to-night and have already dallied +too long." + +"Abroad!" + +"My sister," said Townes, "as perhaps you don't know, wedded a +foreigner--Willy Harcourt, born and raised in Brooklyn. Therefore, I am +now leaving to go to a party in Brooklyn. Say that to yourself +slowly--'a party in Brooklyn!' Sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? If +the worst happens, I look to you fellows to break it to my mother. +Please mention that I was smiling to the last." + +He waved a farewell and disappeared into the hall. Varney dropped into +the chair Townes had left empty, and elevated his feet to the lounge +where sprawled the length of Peter Maginnis. Peter looked up and the +eyes of the two men met. + +"Well, Laurence? What is the proposition?" "Proposition? What do you +mean?" + +"An ass," replied Maginnis, pumping seltzer into a tall glass, "could +see that you have something on your mind." + +Varney pulled a match from the little metal box-holder, and looked at +him with reluctant admiration. "Sherlock Holmes Maginnis! I _have_ +something on my mind. A friend dropped it there half an hour ago, and +now I 've come to drop it on yours." He glanced at the room's two doors +and saw that both were shut. "Time is short. The outfit upstairs may +drift in any minute. Listen. Do you recall telling me the other day, +with tears in your eyes, that you were slowly dying for something new +and interesting to do?" + +Peter nodded. + +"I think of your pleasure," said Varney, "always. By looking about me +and keeping my eyes and ears open at all hours, I have found you just +the thing." + +"New and interesting?" + +"There are men in this town who would run themselves to death trying to +get in it on the ground floor." + +Maginnis shook his head. + +"I have done everything in this world," he said almost sadly, "except, I +may say, the felonies." + +"But this," said Varney, "is a felony." + +Struck by his tone, Peter glanced up. "Mean it?" + +"Sure thing." + +"As I remarked before, what is the proposition?" + +"To sum it all up in a word," said Varney, "there's a job of kidnapping +on and I happened to get the contract. That's all there is to the little +trifle." + +Peter swung his feet around to the floor, and sat up. His conviction +that Varney was trying to be funny died hard. + +Varney laughed. "I need a pal," he added. "Five minutes ago I telephoned +and got permission to offer the place to you." + +"Stop being so confounded mysterious," Peter broke out, "and go ahead!" + +Varney blew smoke thoughtfully and said, "I will. In fact, that's what I +came for. It's a devil of a delicate little matter to talk about to +anybody, as it happens. Of course, what I tell you must never go an inch +further, whether you come along or not." + +"Naturally." + +"You know my Uncle Elbert?" + +"Old Carstairs?" + +Varney nodded. "He wouldn't thank you for the adjective, though. I got +the contract from him. By the way, he's not my uncle, of course; he was +simply a great friend of my mother's. I inherited the friendship, and in +these last five years he and I have somehow managed to get mighty close +together. Eight years or so ago," he continued, "as you may, or may not +know, Uncle Elbert and his wife parted. There wasn't a thing the matter, +I believe, except that they weren't hitting it off particularly well. +They simply agreed to disagree. _Nouveau riche_, and all that, wasn't +it? Mrs. Carstairs has some money of her own. She picked up, packed up, +walked out, bought a place up the river, near Hunston, and has lived +there ever since." + +Peter looked up quickly. "Hunston? Ha! But fire away." + +"She and Uncle Elbert have stayed pretty good friends all through it. +They exchange letters now and then, and once or twice when she has been +in the city, I believe they have met--though not in recent years. My +private suspicion is that she has never entirely got over being in love +with him. Anyhow, there's their general relationship in a +nutshell--parted but friendly. It might have stayed just like that till +they were both in their graves, but for one accidental complication. +There is a child." + +"I seem to remember," said Peter. "A little boy." + +"On the contrary. A little girl. Uncle Elbert," said Varney, "is a bit +of a social butterfly. Mrs. Carstairs is an earnest domestic character. +As I gather, that was what they clashed on--the idea of what a home +ought to be. When the split came, Mrs. Carstairs took the child and +Uncle Elbert was willing enough to have her do it. That was natural +enough, Peter. He had his friends and his clubs and his little dinners, +and he was no more competent to raise a girl baby than you are, which is +certainly going some for a comparison. I suppose the fact was that he +was glad to be free of the responsibility. But it's mighty different +now. + +"You see," said Varney, lighting one cigarette from another and +throwing the old one away, "he must be pretty lonely all by himself in +that big house of his. On top of that he's getting old and isn't in very +good health. Explain it any way you like. The simple fact is that within +this last year or so, it's gradually gotten to be a kind of obsession +with him, an out-and-out, down-and-out monomania, to know that kid--to +have her come and spend part of every year with him. That's natural, +too, I should say." + +"H'm. Mrs. Carstairs sticks to her like fly-paper, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. She admits Uncle Elbert's rights and is entirely willing to +let him have Mary--for such is our little heroine's name--for part of +the time. It is the child who is doing the fly-paper business. The +painful fact is that she declines to have anything whatever to do with +her father. Invitations, commands, entreaties--she spurns them all. Yes, +I asked him if they had tried spanking, but he didn't answer--seemed +rather miffed, in fact. The child simply will not come, and that is +point number one. Now, of course, Uncle Elbert realizes that he has not +been what the world would call a good father. And he has figured it out +that Mary, evidently a young precocity, has judged him, found him +guilty, and sentenced him to banishment from her affections. That hurts, +you know. Well, he is certain that if he could once see her and be +thrown with her for a few days, she would find that he is not such an +old ogre, after all, would take him back as a father, as we might say, +and that after that everything would be plain sailing. That's his +theory. The point is how to see her and be thrown with her for the +necessary few days." + +"Why does n't he get on the train and go to Hunston? Or, if Mrs. +Carstairs is really so decent about the thing, why doesn't she get on +the train and bring Mary down here?" + +"Good. I put both of those up to him, and they seemed to embarrass him a +little. I gathered that he had suggested them both to Mrs. Carstairs, +and that she had turned them down hard. The ground seemed delicate. You +see, we must allow for the personal equation in all this. No matter +where they met, he couldn't hang around the house getting acquainted +with Mary without coming into sort of intimate contact with Mrs. +Carstairs, and giving a kind of domestic touch to their relations. You +see how that is. She wants to be fair and generous about it, but if she +is in love with him, that would be a little more than flesh and blood +could bear, I suppose. Then, as I say, there is the pig-headedness of +the child. Anyway, Uncle Elbert assures me that both those plans are +simply out of the question. So there is the situation. Mary won't come +to see him by herself. Mrs. Carstairs won't bring Mary to see him, and +she won't let him come to see Mary. Well, what remains?" + +Peter said nothing. In a room overhead a manifestly improvised quartet +struck up "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot?" with great enthusiasm. + +"You see there is only one thing. The old gentleman," said Varney, "has +brooded over the matter till it's broken him all up. He was in bed when +I was there just now. He asked me to go to Hunston and bring his +daughter to him. I told him that kidnapping was a little out of my line. +'Kidnapping is rather a harsh word,' he said. 'Yes,' said I, 'it's a +criminal word, I believe.' But--" + +Peter looked up, interrupting. "Is this all straight? Is that really +what he wants you to do?" + +"Naturally, Peter. Why not? You cling to the theory that such heroic +measures are entirely unnecessary? So did I till I had threshed the +whole thing up and down with Uncle Elbert for an hour and a half, trying +to suggest some alternative that didn't look so silly. Kindly get the +facts well into your head, will you? The man must pursue Mary's +affection either there or here, mustn't he? He can't do it there because +his wife won't let him. In order to do it here, one would say offhand +that Mary would have to be here, and since her mother declines to bring +her, it does look to me as if the job would have to be done by somebody +else. However, if my logic is wrong, kindly let your powerful--" + +"I don't say it's wrong. I merely say that it sounds like a cross +between a modern pork-king's divorce suit and a seventeenth century +peccadillo." + +"And I reply that I don't care a hoot how it sounds. The only question +of any interest to me, Peter, is whether or not Uncle Elbert has a moral +right to a share in his own child. I say that he has such a right, and I +say further that this is the only way in the world that he can assert +his right. Oh, hang how it sounds! I'm the nearest thing to a son that +he has in this world, and I mean for him to have his rights. So--" + +"Very fine," said Peter dryly. "But what's the matter with Carstairs +getting his rights for himself? Why doesn't he sneak up there and pull +the thing off on his own?" + +Varney laughed. "Evidently you don't know Uncle Elbert, after all. He's +as temperamentally unfit to carry through a job of this sort as a +hysterical old lady. Besides, even though they haven't met for so long, +I suppose his own daughter would recognize him, wouldn't she? I never +gave that idea a thought. Like his wife, he says he wants to have +nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, I made him put that in the form +of a promise--he's to give me an absolutely free hand, subject to the +conditions, and not interfere in any way. In return I ended by swearing +a great iron-clad oath not only to go, but to bring the child back with +me. The swear was Uncle Elbert's idea, and I didn't mind. Confound +it!--this is getting rather intimate, but here is Mrs. Carstairs's +letter giving a partial consent to the thing. It just got in this +afternoon; he sent for me the minute he'd read it, I believe, and I +never saw a man more excited." + +He pulled a scrawled and crossed note-sheet from his pocket, and read in +a guarded and slightly embarrassed voice: + +HUNSTON, 25th of September. + +MY DEAR ELBERT,--I hardly know how to answer you, though I have been +over and over the whole subject on my knees. As you know, if I could +send Mary to you, I would, sadly as I should miss her, for the wish +lies close to my heart to have her know her father. But she will not +hear of leaving me and there is an end of that. What you suggest is so +new and so _dreadful_ in many ways that it is very hard to consent to +it. Of course, I realize that it is not right for me to have her always. +But the utmost I can bring myself to say is that if you can succeed in +what you propose I will do nothing to interfere with you, and will see +that there is no scandal here afterwards. Of course, I am to have no +part in it, and no force is to be used, and everything is to be made as +agreeable for her as is possible under the circumstances. Oh, I am +miserable and doubtful about the whole thing, but pray and trust that it +is for the best, and that she will find some way to forgive me for it +afterwards. + +A.E.C. + +"H'm. No force is to be used," said Peter. "May I ask just how you +expect to get Mary on the choo-choo?" + +"Now we are getting to the meat of the matter," said Varney. "We shall +not have to get Mary on the choo-choo at all. We are going to use a +yacht, which will be far more private and pleasant, and also far easier +to get people on. Uncle Elbert's _Cypriani_ lies in the harbor at this +moment, ready to start anywhere at half a day's notice. It will start +for Hunston to-morrow afternoon, with me on board. I'll need another man +to put the thing through right, and I'd rather trust a friend than a +servant. So would Uncle Elbert. When I came in here just now, I was at +once taken with your looks for the part, and I have been authorized by +'phone to give you first refusal on this great chance." + +Peter said nothing. Varney feared that he looked rather bored. + +"At first," he went on promptly, "I'll confess that I didn't see so much +in the thing. But the more I've thought of it the more its unique charm +has appealed to me. It is nothing more nor less than a novel, piquant +little adventure. Exactly the sort of thing to attract a man who likes +to take a sporting chance. Look at the difficulties of it. Go to a +strange town where there are thousands and millions of strange children, +locate Mary, isolate her, make friends with her, coax her to the +yacht--captivate her, capture her! How are we to do all that, you ask? I +reply, the Lord knows. That is where the sport comes in. We are +forbidden to use force. We are forbidden to use Mrs. Carstairs or bring +her into it in any way. We are forbidden, of course, to let the child +know who we are. Everything must be done by almost diabolical craft, +while dodging suspicion at every step. Can you beat it for a fascinating +little expedition?" + +Peter relit his pipe and meditatively dropped the match on the floor. +"How old is Mary?" + +"Old?" said Varney, surprised at the question, "Oh, I don't know. The +separation took place--h'm--say eight years ago, and my guess is that +she was about four at the time. From this and the way Uncle Elbert spoke +of her, I daresay twelve would hit it fair and square. A grand age for +kidnapping, what?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter, "it makes it mere baby-work. Turn it over +as you will, it all boils down to spanking a naughty child." + +"Never! Think of slipping a cog in our plans--making a false start, +having somebody get on to us! Why, man, there may be jail for us both in +this!" + +He examined Peter's face hopefully, but found unaffected apathy there. + +"Suppose," he cried boastfully, "that the Associated Press got on to it! +Think of the disgrace of it! 'Millionaire Maginnis Caught Kidnapping!' +Think of being fired from the Curzon and having to leave New York a +hunted and broken man! Think," he added in an inspired climax, "of +having your photograph in the Sunday _Herald_!" + +Maginnis perked up visibly at this. "There is no chance of that really, +do you think?" + +"None in the world," said Varney desperately. + +He felt sure that this had cost him Peter, whom he had come to as his +oldest and best friend. Having no idea whom he could turn to next, he +rose, tentatively, and for the moral effect, to go. + +"After all," he said aloud, "I have another man in my mind who would, on +second thoughts, suit me better." + +"Oh, sit down!" cried Peter, impatiently. + +Larry sat down. His face showed, in spite of him, how really anxious he +was to have Peter go. There was a brief pause. + +"Since you are so crazy to have me," said Peter, "I'll go." + +"Thank you," said Varney. He picked up his glass, which he had hitherto +not touched, drained it at a gulp and pushed the bell vigorously. "I +knew," he cried, "that you'd see the possibilities when once your brain +began to work." + +Peter's faint smile was an insult in its way. "Three things have decided +me to go with you, old son, and none of them has anything to do with +your possibilities. The first is that I'm the one man in a million you +really need in case of trouble." + +"Peter, your modesty is your curse." + +"The second is--did you read the _Sun_ this morning? It seems that this +little town of Hunston is having a violent spasm of politics right now. +Rather lucky coincidence, I should say. The dispatch I read was pretty +vague, but I gather that there's an interesting fight on between a +strong machine and a small but firm reform movement." + +"Ha! Occupation for you while I beat the woods for little Mary." + +"I'll need it." + +"Well, what was your other wonderful reason?" + +"Don't you know? It is that sixty horse-power oath your uncle made you +swear." + +"Because it committed me, you mean?" + +The door opened, men entered noisily, and Peter had to draw Varney aside +to explain darkly: "Because it committed me to wondering what +difficulties foxy old Carstairs made a point of concealing from you." + +"Meet me upstairs in ten minutes," said Varney, "and we'll talk about +plans." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +THEY EMBARK UPON A CRIME + +Varney was wrong in one thing: Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ was not ready +to start anywhere at half a day's notice. For that reason it did not +start for Hunston on the following afternoon. As always happens, the +preparations for the little expedition took four times as long as +anybody would have thought possible. + +For these delays no blame could be attached to Peter Maginnis. He had no +getting ready to do beyond bidding his father's man to pack him for a +week, and obtaining from his hatter's, at an out-of-season cut-price, an +immense and peculiar Panama with an offensive plaid band. Possibly it +was the only hat of its kind in the world. One might picture the +manufacturer as having it made up as an experiment, becoming morose when +he looked at it, and ordering his superintendent to make no more like it +at the peril of his life. + +Peter, however, was delighted with it. Gazing at himself with smirking +satisfaction in the hat-shop mirror, he ordered the old one sent home +and was all ready to go to Hunston and kidnap Mary Carstairs. + +But other preparations could not be completed with such speedy +satisfaction. The yacht had to coal, take on supplies, and pick up two +or three extra men for the crew. A Sunday came in and threw everything +back a day. Lastly the sailing-master's wife, whom Mr. Carstairs was +sending along to take charge of Mary on the homeward trip, chanced to be +down with an influenza. + +As the details of getting ready multiplied about him, Varney's interest +in his novel undertaking imperceptibly grew. The thing had come upon him +so unexpectedly that it had not yet by any means lost its strangeness. +To the old friend of his mother's girlhood, Elbert Carstairs, he was +sincerely devoted, though knowing him for an indulgent man whose +indulgences were chiefly of himself. But when, responding to his excited +summons that night, he had sat and listened while Mr. Carstairs unfolded +his mad little domestic plot, he had been first utterly amazed and then +utterly repelled. And it was not until a final sense of the old man's +genuine need was borne in upon him, of his loneliness, his helplessness, +and his entire dependence upon him, Varney, that he had consented to +undertake the extraordinary commission. + +In a sense, it was all simply preposterous. Here was he, Laurence +Varney, in sane mind, of law-abiding habits and hitherto of tolerable +standing in the community, solemnly pledged to go and steal the person +of a child, in defiance and contempt of the statutes of all known +nations. And the place where this lawless deed was to be done was not +Ruritania or the hazy dominions of Prince Otto, but a commonplace, +humdrum American town, not an hour and a half from his office chair by +the expresses. + +In going about this task he was to conduct himself with the frankness +and straightforwardness of a sneak-thief. Not a soul in New York was to +know where he had gone. Not a soul in Hunston must dimly suspect what he +had come for. It must be gum-shoe work from start to finish, and the +_Cypriani's_ motto would be the inspiring word, "Sh-h-h." Though he had +to find a nondescript child whom he did not know from Eve, he was +forbidden to do it in a natural, easy, and dashing way. He could not +ring her mother's door-bell, ask for her, throw a meal-sack over her +head, and whip his waiting horses to a gallop. No, he must beat the tall +grasses before the old homestead until such time as she chose to walk +abroad alone. Really, when you came to think of it, it was an asinine +sort of proposition. + +But when Mary did come out of that house, he saw that the fun would +begin. A well brought-up, moneyed, petted and curled girl of twelve was +no easy pawn in anybody's game. He could not win her love by a mere +offer of gum-drops. In fact, getting acquainted was likely to be a +difficult matter, taxing his ingenuity to a standstill. But he +entertained no doubts of his ability to do it, sooner or later. + +"Not to put too fine a point on it," mused he, glancing out of his +twentieth story window, "they flock to me, children do. I'm their good +old Uncle Dudley. But why the deuce isn't she five years younger?" + +Clearly, it was the next step that was the most delicate: getting Mary +aboard the yacht. This was both the crux and the _finale_ of the whole +thing: for Uncle Elbert was to be waiting for them, in a closed +carriage, at a private dock near 130th Street (Peter remaining in +Hunston to notify him by telephone of the start down), and Varney's +responsibilities were over when the _Cypriani_ turned her nose homeward. +But here lay the thin ice. If anything should happen to go wrong at the +moment when they were coaxing Mary on the yacht, if there was a leak in +their plans or anybody suspected anything, he saw that the situation +might be exceedingly awkward. The penalties for being fairly caught with +the goods promised to be severe. As to kidnapping, he certainly +remembered reading in the newspapers that some States punished it with +death. At any rate, maybe the natives would try to thrash him and Peter. +In hopeful moments he conjured up visions of the deuce to pay. + +But, after all, he was going to Hunston, whether he liked it or not, +simply because Uncle Elbert had asked him. The lonely old gentleman, he +knew, loved him like a son: he had turned straight to him in his hour of +need. This had touched the young man, and had finally made up his mind +for him. Moreover Mary, a spoiled little piece who was suffered to set +her smug childish will against the combined wills of both her parents, +aroused his keenest antipathy. To put her in her place, to teach her +that children must obey their parents in the Lord, was a duty to +society, to the State. What Uncle Elbert wanted with such a child, he +could not conceive; but since he did want her, have her he should. +Tilting back his office chair and running his hand through his hair, +Varney longed to spank her. + +This thought came to him, definitely and for about the seventh time, at +half-past one o'clock on the third day, Monday. At the same moment, his +telephone-bell rang sharply. It was the sailing-master to say that his +good spouse had come aboard and that everything on the _Cypriani_ was in +readiness for the start. + +"I'll be on board inside of an hour," said Varney. + +He telephoned to Uncle Elbert, telephoned to Peter, and locked up his +desk. To his office he casually gave out that pressing business matters +were calling him out of town for a day or two. + +The two young men had been as furtive as possible about their proposed +journey. They had not met since the night Varney had dangled the hope of +jail and disgrace into Peter's lightening face, and so, or otherwise, +cajoled him into going along. Both of them had kept carefully away from +the _Cypriani_. Now they proceeded to her by different routes, and +reached her at different times, Peter first. Their luggage had gone +aboard before them, and there was no longer a thing to wait for. At +three o'clock, on Varney's signal, the ship's bell sounded, her whistle +shrieked, and she slid off through the waters of the bay. + +About the start there was nothing in the least dramatic: they had merely +begun moving through the water and that was all. The _Cypriani_, for all +her odd errand, was merely one of a thousand boats which indifferently +crossed each other's wakes in one of the most crowded harbors in the +world. + +"For all the lime-light we draw," observed Maginnis, drinking in the +freshening breeze, "we might be running up to Harlem to address the +fortnightly meeting of a Girls' Friendly Society." + +Varney said: "Give us a chance, will you?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THEY ARRIVE IN HUNSTON AND FALL IN WITH A STRANGER + +The landscape near Hunston, as it happened, was superfluously pretty. It +deserved a group of resident artists to admire and to catch it upon +canvas; and it had, roughly speaking, only artisans out of a job. The +one blot was the town, sprawling hideously over the hillside. Set down +against the perennial wood, by the side of the everlasting river, it +looked very cheap and common. But all this was by day. Now night fell +upon the poor little city and mercifully hid it from view. + +They had made the start too late for hurry to be any object. It was only +a three hours' run for the _Cypriani_, but she took it slowly, using +four. At half-past six o'clock, when their destination was drawing near, +the two men went below and dined. At seven, while they were still at +table, they heard the slow-down signal, and, a moment later, the rattle +of the anchor line. Now, at quarter-past seven, Varney lounged alone by +the starboard rail and acquainted himself with the purview. + +They had run perhaps quarter of a mile above the town, for reasons which +he had not communicated to the sailing-master in transmitting his +orders. One was that they might be removed somewhat from native +curiosity. The other was, they might be near the Carstairs residence, +which was up this way somewhere. So, between the yacht and the town lay +hill and wood intervening. The _Cypriani_, so to say, had anchored in +the country. Only a light glimmering here and there through the trees +indicated the nearness of man's abode. + +A soporific quality lurked in the quiet solitude, and Varney, sunk in a +deck-chair, yawned. They had decided at dinner that they would do +nothing that night but go to bed, for it seemed plain that there was +nothing else to do: little girls did not ramble abroad alone after dark. +Up the companion-way and over the glistening after-deck strolled Peter, +an eye-catching figure in the flooding moonlight. For, retiring to his +stateroom from the table, he had divested himself of much raiment and +encased his figure in a great purple bathrobe. He was a man who loved to +be comfortable, was Peter. Topping the robe, he wore his new Panama. +Varney looked around at the sound of footsteps, and was considerably +struck by his friend's appearance. + +"Feeling well, old man?" he asked with solicitude. + +"Certainly." + +"Not seasick at all? You won't let me fetch you the hot-water bottle?" + +"No, ass." + +Peter sank down in an upholstered wicker chair with pillows in it, and +looked out appreciatively at the night. The yacht's lights were set, but +her deck bulbs hung dark; for the soft and shimmering radiance of the +sky made man's illumination an offense. + +However, aesthetics, like everything else, has its place in human +economy and no more. No one aboard the _Cypriani_ became so absorbed in +the marvels of nature as to become insensible to other pleasures. The +air, new and fine from the hands of its Maker, acquired a distinct +flavor of nicotine as it flitted past the yacht. From some hidden depth +rose the subdued and convalescent snores of that early retirer, the +sailing-master's wife. Below forward, two deck-hands were thoughtfully +playing set-back for pennies, while a machinist sat by and read a +sporting extra by a swinging bulb. Above forward, on a coil of rope, +McTosh, the head steward and one of Mr. Carstairs's oldest servants, +smoked a bad pipe, and expectorated stoically into the Hudson. + +The thought of the essential commonplaceness of this sort of thing +recurred to Peter Maginnis. For all his life of idleness, which was, as +it were, accidental, Peter was essentially a man of action; and life's +sedentary movements irked him sorely. + +"Who is the individual monkeying around at the bow?" he asked presently. + +"It is Mr. Bissett, the ship's engineer, who is putting a coat of white +lead over the yacht's name." + +"Aha! Aren't we old-sleuthy, though! And what's that piece of stage-play +for?" + +"All these little hookers," said Varney, "are listed in a book, which +many persons own. Why have the local press tell everybody to-morrow that +the yacht _Cypriani_ belonging to Mr. Carstairs, husband once-removed to +our own Mrs. Elbert Carstairs, is anchored off these shores?" + +"It seems," said Peter, "like a lot of smoke for such a little fire." + +He got up and sprawled on the rail, his yellow Panama pulled far over +his eyes, his gaze fixed on the shining water. + +"First and last, I've seen rivers in my time," he said presently, "big +and little, pretty and not, clean and soiled, decent and indecent. Yes, +boy," said he, "you can take it from me that I've seen the world's +darnedest in the matter of rivers, and I have liked them all from Ganges +to the Sacramento and back again. There was a time when I didn't have +that sort of personal feeling for 'em, but a little chap up in Canada, +he helped me to the light. He was the keenest on rivers I ever knew." + +He broke off to yawn greatly, started to resume, thought better of it, +checked himself, and presently said in an absent voice: + +"No, that's too long to tell." + +"There's two hours till bedtime." + +Peter straightened and began strolling aimlessly about the deck, half +regretting that they had decided to spend the evening on the yacht. +Varney looked after him with a certain sense of guilt. Against this +background of quiet night and moonlit peace, his enterprise began to +look very small and easy. A ramble through the pleasant woods over +there, a little girl met and played with, a leisurely stroll +hand-in-hand down a woodland path to the yacht--was it for this that he +had begged the assistance of Peter Maginnis, of the large administrative +abilities and the teeming energies? Varney began to be a little ashamed +of himself. To follow out Peter's own figure, it appeared that he had +called out the fire department to help him put out a smoking sheet of +note-paper on a hearth. + +Soon, in one of his goings and comings, Peter halted. "There was another +Hunston dispatch in the paper this morning," he vouchsafed. + +"Politics?" + +"Said the reform movement was a joke." + +"Good one?" + +"Good movement, you mean?" + +"No--good joke." + +"No reform movement is ever a good joke, under any circumstances +whatsoever. Where it appears a joke at all, it is the kind that would +appeal only to pinheads of the dottiest nature." + +"I see." + +"I'm going up there to-morrow," said Peter, nodding toward the town, +"and look into it a little. If there is time, I may even decide to show +these fellows how a reform proposition ought to be handled to ensure +results." + +Far off on the hill a single light twinkled through the trees, very +yellow against the pale moonlight. Varney's eye fell upon it and +absently held it. It was Mary Carstairs's light, though, of course, he +had no means of knowing that. + +Presently Peter lolled around and looked at him. "H'm! Sunk in a sodden +slumber, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. Interested by your conversation--fascinated. Ha! Here is +something to vary the evening's monotony. A row-boat is drifting +down-stream towards us. Let us make little wagers with each other as to +who'll be in it." + +He looked over his shoulder upward at the moon, which a flying scud of +cloud had momentarily veiled. Peter, who had sat down again, glanced up +the river. + +"I don't see any boat." + +"There is where the wager comes in, my son. Hurry up--the moon will pop +out in another minute, and spoil the sport." + +"Drifting, you say. Bet you she's empty--broke away from her moorings +and riding down with the current. Bet you half a dollar. My second bet," +he said, warming to the work, "is an old washerwoman and her little boy, +out on their rounds collecting clothes. It's Monday. In case both firsts +are wrong, second choices get the money." + +"My bet is--Ha! Stand ready with your half! There she comes--Jove!" + +"Good God!" cried Peter and sprang up. + +For the moon had jumped out from behind its cloud like a cuckoo in a +clock, and fallen full upon the drifting boat, now hardly fifty yards +away. In the bottom of it lay a man, sprawled over his useless oars, +his upturned face very white in the moonlight, limp legs huddled under +him anyhow. Something in the abandon of his position suggested that he +would not get up any more. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +WHICH CONCERNS POLITICS AND OTHER LOCAL MATTERS + +It was an odd sight against the setting of pretty night and light, idle +talk. Peter's lip tightened. + +"He's dead, poor chap!" he said, in a low voice. "Murdered." + +"So it seems. We can't be sure from here, though. Where's that watch? +Here--some of you! Lower away the dinghy! Get a move!" + +The boats were on their hooks, swung outboard ready for instant use. The +crew, tumbling out swiftly at the call, cleared away one and let it fall +over the side. The young men went down with it, Peter seizing the oars +as his by right. The floating boat with its strange cargo had drifted +close and was now lost in the vast black shadow of the yacht. + +"Where is it?" + +"I can't--Yes! There it is. Straight back. Now a little to the right. +Way enough!" + +Varney, in the stern, leaned out and gripped the drifting gunwale +securely. But it was so dark here that he could see almost nothing. + +"He's breathing, I think," he said, his hand against the strange man's +chest. "Pull out into the light." + +But just then the arm that lay under the still head unmistakably +twitched. + +"Good!" cried Peter and laughed a little. "Strike a match and let's have +a look at him." + +Varney fumbled in his pockets, found one and scratched it on the side. +Shielding the flame in his curved hand, he leaned forward and held it +close to that motionless face. + +It was a young face, pale and rather haggard, lined about the mouth and +yellow about the eyes; the face of a clever but broken gentleman. Full +of contrasts and a story as it was, it would have been a striking face +at any time; and to the two peering men in the _Cypriani's_ boat, it was +now very striking indeed. For they saw immediately that the curious eyes +were half open and were fixed full upon them. + +The match burned Varney's fingers, went out and dropped into the water. +He said nothing. Neither did Peter. The man in the boat did not stir. So +went by a second of profound stillness. Then a somewhat blurred voice +said: + +"When a gentleman goes rowing--in a private boat--and is raided by a +pair of unknown investigators--one of them wearing a Mother Hubbard-- +who strike matches in his face and make personal remarks--he naturally +awaits their explanations." + +The speech fell upon four of the most astonished ears in the State of +New York. + +Peter recovered first: the remark about the Mother Hubbard had stung him +a little, even in that dumfounded moment, but he only laughed. + +"The fact is, we made absolutely sure that you were a corpse. Our +mistake." + +"But God save us!" murmured the young man. "Can't a man die these days +without a yacht-full of anxious persons steaming up and clamping a light +against his eyeball?" + +"But can't we do something for you?" asked Varney. "That's what we are +here for." + +The young man lay still and thought a moment, which he appeared to do +with some difficulty. + +"To be frank," his voice came out of the dark, rather clearer now, "you +can. Give me a match, will you?" + +Varney laughed; he produced and handed over a little box of them. Lying +flat on his back in the boat, the young man fished a cigarette out of +his pocket, hurriedly, and stuck it between his lips. The next minute +the spurt of a match cut the air. The two in the ship's boat caught a +brief, flashing glimpse of him--thin white hands raised to thin white +face. + +"Something of a _poseur_, aren't you?" suggested Peter pleasantly. +"What's your rôle to-night?" + +There followed a fractional pause. + +"That of a vagrant student of manners and customs," answered the +colorless voice. "Therefore, to imitate your frankness, you interest me +greatly." + +"Those who study manners," said Peter, "should learn them after a while. +Why didn't you sing out, when you saw us hustling to get out a boat, and +tell us not to bother, as you were only playing dead for the lark of the +thing?" + +"Singing, whether out or in, is an art at which I can claim small +proficiency. But tell me the time, will you? I seem to have hocked my +watch." + +Peter laughed a little ruefully. "It's seven thirty-six--no more and no +less." + +The young man sat up with an effort, and uncertainly gathered up his +oars. + +"You'll excuse me, then?" he said. "I have an engagement at seven +thirty, and as you see, there is little time to make it." + +"We gave you a light," said Peter. "Why not reciprocate? Who the devil +are you?" + +"I am a part of all that I have met," said the stranger, pulling off. "I +am wily wandering Ulysses. I am--" + +"That will do," said Peter sharply. + +He bowed gravely and rowed away. Peter looked after him for some time, +in rather impressive silence. + +"What d' you suppose was the matter with the beggar, anyway? He wasn't +drunk." + +"Didn't you notice his wrists when he held them up to light his +cigarette? Full of little scars." + +Peter whistled. "So morphine is his trouble, is it? Listen!" + +From down the river rose a faint roar, like the sound of many voices a +long way off. While the two men listened, it subsided and then rose +again. + +"Hello!" said Varney. "Look at your student of manners and customs now." + +The man in the boat was still plainly discernible, his face picked out +by the moon in greenish white. But there was no longer any lethargy in +his manner. He was bending his back to his best stroke--an excellent one +it was--and driving his light bark rapidly down the stream. + +"My bet," said Varney, "is that he hears those shouts, and they mean +something to him--something interesting and important." + +"Larry, be a sport! Let's follow this thing along and find out what it +all means." + +"Oh, I'm willing to drop into town for a little reconnoissance, if you +like. Maybe we can pick up something that will help us in our business." + +"Spoken like a scholar and a gentleman. One minute while I get on my +clothes. Oh--by the way! Er--this new--robe of mine doesn't look like a +Mother Hubbard, does it?" + +"In my opinion," said Varney, "two things could not well be more utterly +unlike." + +Peter was back in five minutes, clothed and in his right mind. His +falling foot hit the center-line of the gig with a thump, and they shot +away toward the town wharf. + +They bade the boat wait their signal in the shadows a little upstream, +and jumped out upon the old and rotting landing. A street ran straight +before them, up a steep hill and into the heart of the town, and they +took it, guided by a burst of still distant laughter and hoarse shouts. +Toiling up the evil sidewalk, they looked about curiously at the town +which was to engage their attention for the next day or so. Over +everything hung that vague air of dejection and moral decay which is so +hard to define and so easy to detect. The street was lit with feeble +electric lights which did little more than nullify the moon. Grass grew +at its pleasure through the broken brick pavement; and even in that +dimness, it was very evident that the White Wing department had been +taking a long vacation. + +Varney's eye took in everything. It occurred to him that this was a most +extraordinary place for the family of the exquisite and well-fixed +Elbert Carstairs to live. Hard on the heels of that came another thought +and he stopped. + +"What's the matter?" said Peter. + +"We simply mustn't get mixed up in any doings here, you know. Can't +afford it. Whatever is going on, our rôle must be that of quiet +onlookers only. Remember that." + +"Quiet onlookers it is. Hello! Did you see that?" + +"What?" + +"Old duck in a felt hat walking behind us, a good distance off--I'd +heard him for some time. He stopped when we stopped, and when I turned +then I was just in time to see him go skipping up the side street." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Not a thing. I'm interested in the sights of the town, that's all. +Listen to those hoodlums, will you?" + +In the middle of that block rose a great public building of florid and +hideous architecture, absurdly expensive for so small a town, and +running fast to seed. On the corner ahead, at the crest of the slope, +stood the handsomest and most prosperous-looking building they had yet +seen. Its long side was cut by many windows, all brilliantly lit up, and +above the lower tier ran the gold-lettered legend: + +WINES & LIQUORS. THE OTTOMAN. D. RYAN. + +"When the saloon-keeper is the richest man in town," observed Peter, +"look out for trouble." + +A roar of laughter, mingled with various derisive cries, broke out just +then, now from very near. The next minute the two men reached the brow +of the hill, and both stopped involuntarily, arrested by the tableau +which met their gaze beyond. + +They stood on the upper side of a little rectangular "square," at the +lower edge of which, some fifty yards away, were gathered possibly +thirty or forty jostling and noisy men. Facing them, standing on a +carriage-block at the curb, stood a cool little man obviously engaged in +making a speech. The commonness of the men and the rough joviality of +their mood were the more accentuated by the supreme dignity of the +orator. He was a very small man, with pink cheeks and eye-glasses, +beautifully made and still more beautifully dressed; and for all their +boisterous "jollying" his auditors appeared rather to like him than the +contrary. + +The men from the _Cypriani_ crossed the square and came up with the +merry-making Hunstonians. Varney's gaze went round the circle of faces +and saw inefficiency, shiftlessness, and failure everywhere stamped +upon them. Suddenly his wandering eye was arrested by a face of quite a +different sort. Directly opposite stood the eccentric young man of the +row-boat, watching the show out of listless eyes whose expression never +changed. + +"On that horse-block," said Peter, raising his voice to carry above an +outburst of catcalls and allegedly humorous comment, "stands the Hunston +Reform Movement. Giving 'em a ripping talk, too--all out of Bryce, Mill, +and the other fellows." + +But at that moment, as luck had it, the oratory came to a sudden end. A +sportive bull-pup, malevolently released by some one in the crowd, +danced up to the horse-block, barking joyfully, and made a lightning +dive for the spellbinder's legs. The spellbinder dexterously +side-stepped; the dog's aim was diverted from that fleshy portion of the +thigh which his fancy had selected; but his snapping teeth closed firmly +in the tail of the pretty light-gray coat, which the little man wore +rather long according to the mode of the day. And there he swung, +kicking and snarling, squirming and grunting, in the liveliest fashion +imaginable. + +Merry pandemonium broke out among the onlookers; they howled with +shameless delight. It was hardly a pleasant scene to witness, though +redeemed by the little orator's gameness. His face, when he took in what +had happened to him, slowly turned the color of a sheet of white paper. +With indescribable dignity, he descended from his rostrum, carrying the +dog along, and walked out into the ring. In front of a tall, +loose-jointed, scraggly-mustached fellow he paused, and stared him in +the eye with steady fixity. + +"T-t-take your d-d-damned d-dog off me, Hackley," he said, stuttering +badly, but very cool. + +But Hackley backed away, shaking his head and bellowing with laughter. +In an ecstasy of delight, the onlookers began pressing more closely +about the men, narrowing the circle. And then it was that Peter, quite +forgetting his rôle of quiet onlooker and unable for his life to +restrain himself longer, put his shoulder to the ring and broke a +vigorous way through. He touched the little orator on the arm. + +"No need to trouble the gentleman," Varney heard him say pleasantly. +"Just hold the position a moment, please." And so saying he swung back +his foot. + +It landed with an impact that was loud and not agreeable to the ear. The +dog dropped with a frightful howl and, yelping madly, fled. +Simultaneously, cries arose about the ringside, and the dog's owner, an +alcoholic blaze in his eye, spat bitterly into his two palms and headed +straight for Peter. + +"What in the blank-blank d' yer mean by kickin' my blank dog, you +blank-blankety-blank, you?" he inquired. + +"I meant that he was behaving as no dog should," explained Peter, "and +the same remark applies to you." + +He was not without skill at fisticuff, was Hackley. With the speed of a +tiger, he let out first his left fist, then his right, at Peter +Maginnis's head. But instead of arriving there, they collided with a +forearm which had about the resiliency of a two-foot stone-wall. +Simultaneously, Peter released his famous left-hook--had of the Bronx +Barman at ten dollars a lesson--and the fight was over. + +Mr. Hackley's head struck first, and struck passionately; men picked him +up and bore him limply from the field. And Peter, a tiny spot of red in +the corner of his right eye, spoke thus to the horseshoe of watching +faces: + +"You're a devil of a fine gang of red-hot sports, aren't you, boys? A +whole regiment of you with no more decency than to pick on one man like +this. I come from a white man's country where this kind of thing doesn't +go--thank God! And any man who has formed a bad opinion of my manners +and my general style of conversation can just step out into the ring and +let me explain my system to him." + +But nobody accepted that invitation. Possibly the rub was that no one +cared to see that left-hook work again, at his own expense, or to +encourage any trouble to come athwart his quiet career. At any rate, +there were a few mutterings here and there; and then some one sang out: + +"None fer mine, Mister! I ain't took out my life insurance yet." + +There was a general laugh at this, and with that laugh Peter knew that +all hope of more fighting was gone. He bade them a sardonic good-night, +hooked his arm through the orator's (who actually showed signs of an +intention to resume his speech), and bore him off down the street. + +The three men walked half a block in silence, and then the little +stranger stopped short. + +"I say," he said in a faintly unsteady voice, "I want to thank you for +taking that confounded dog off me. In another minute he might have torn +my coat, don't you know?" + +"Oh, that's all right," said Peter, repressing a smile. "Kicking dogs is +rather a specialty of mine, and it isn't often I get the chance to +attend to two of them in one evening. I wouldn't give the episode +another thought." + +The little man gave a sudden fierce laugh. "Oh, certainly not! It's a +mere bagatelle for a candidate for Mayor to get a hand-out like that +from a gathering of voters!" + +"Mayor! I beg your pardon! Of course I didn't quite understand." + +Whereupon Peter begged to introduce himself as an ardent amateur +statesman, a student of good government from New Hampshire to New +Zealand and from Plato to Lincoln Steffens, who had--er--come to Hunston +hoping to see something of the fight for reform. The candidate, in turn, +produced cards. It became apparent that he bore the name of J. Pinkney +Hare. And the upshot of the colloquy was that the two young men +presently found themselves invited to call upon Candidate Hare next +morning, and learn something of the situation. + +"I'll be delighted," accepted Peter promptly,--"delighted." + +"That's settled then. Good-night--and thanks awf'ly for your +assistance." + +He pivoted on his trim heels, abruptly, and went away up the side +street. + +Peter turned to Varney with a faint grin. "That chap gets his first +lesson in the art of being a reformer to-morrow. Curious, wasn't +it?--stumbling right into the heart of the agitation an hour after we +hit the town." + +Varney, who had followed Peter's activities of the last five minutes +with considerable disapproval, did not answer his smile. + +"Give me a hasty sketch of your conception of a quiet onlooker, will +you, Peter?" + +"Tush!" said Peter. "Why, can't you see that this sort of thing will +make the finest kind of blind? St! Here's our little friend coming back +again." + +"I say," called the voice of J. Pinkney Hare out of the gloom. + +"Yes?" said Peter. + +The candidate drew nearer. + +"Our city is not plentifully supplied with amusements," he began in his +somewhat pompous manner. "It just occurred to me that, in lieu of +anything better, you gentlemen might care to go home with me now. I +should be happy to have you--and to reciprocate your courtesy in any way +within my power." + +Peter, doubtless remembering the slow time he had been having on the +yacht, brightened instantly and visibly. + +"Why, _thanks_. I'll be awfully glad to come. I--er--I'm tremendously +interested in your situation here, I assure you." + +Then, catching a warning glance from Varney, who politely declined the +invitation, he apologized to the candidate and drew his captain briefly +aside. + +"I'll pick up all the information I can--understand?" he murmured +hurriedly. "And don't you worry. A little flurry in politics will make +the best sort of a cover for you while you sneak around after Mary." + +On that the two friends parted. Peter hurried on after the little +reformer, and Varney, turning, continued his way down Main Street toward +the river and the _Cypriani_, not entirely displeased, after all, that +Peter had found some congenial diversion for the evening. + +The street was almost a desert. If the unmistakable sounds of revelry by +night meant anything, nearly the whole population was behind him in the +Ottoman bar. But in the middle of the next block, two ragged men, +standing idly and talking together, turned at the sounds of the young +man's steps. One of them, revealed by a near-by shop-light, had straggly +gray whiskers, vacant eyes, and a bad foolish mouth. Both of them stared +at Varney with marked intentness. He had to go quite out of his way to +get round them. + +"They don't see strangers every day, I take it," he thought absently; +and suddenly he cast an inquiring eye at the heavens. + +The night, so shining half an hour before, was becoming heavily +overcast. Clouds had rolled up from nowhere and blotted out the moon. +About him the night breeze was freshening with a certain significance; +and now unexpectedly there fell upon his ear the faint far rumble of +thunder. Decidedly, there would be rain, and that right soon. Varney +quickened his pace. + +At the end of that quiet block he came upon a crimson-cheeked lady, +somewhat past her first youth and over-plump for beauty, who was engaged +in putting up the shutters at her mother's grocery establishment. +Glancing around casually at his approach, her glance became transfixed +into a stare. + +"Well!" she exclaimed in surprise and not without coquettishness--"if it +ain't Mr. Ferris!" + +"If it ain't Mr. Ferris--what then?" asked Varney. "For, madam, I assure +you that it ain't." + +The woman, taken aback by this denial, only stared and had no reply +ready. But the young man, walking on, was set to thinking by this second +encounter, and presently he mused: "I'm somebody's blooming double, +that's what. I wonder whose." + +And on that word, as though to get an answer to his speculation, he +suddenly halted and turned. + +He had now progressed nearly a block from the buxom young woman of the +grocery. For some time, even before that meeting, he had been aware of +light, steady footsteps behind him on the dark street, gaining on him. +By this time they had come very near; and now as he wheeled sharply, +with a vague anticipation of Peter's "old duck in a felt hat," he found +himself face to face with quite a different figure--that of a thin young +man whom he recognized. + +"Bless us!" said Varney urbanely. "It's the student of manners again." + +The pale young stranger stopped two paces away and gave back his look +with the utmost composure. + +"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones--"though I doubt," he +added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you." + +"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?" + +"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a +paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow +morning--you and your ferocious friend." + +Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat--er--precipitate?" + +"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany, +that you were a great fool to come back at all." + +"Beany!" + +"You don't mind if I sit down?" + +A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they +stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and +leaned back against the store-front. + +"Beany?" repeated Varney. + +"It was dark down on the river," observed the other slowly, "but the +instant I saw you on the square, I recognized you, and so, my friend, +will everybody else." + +"With even better success, I trust, than you have done. For my name is +not Beany, but indeed Varney--Laurence Varney--permit me--" + +"Ah, well! Stick it out if you prefer. In any case--" + +"But do tell me the name of this individual to whom I bear such a +marked resemblance. I naturally--" + +"The individual to whom you bear such a marked, I may say such a very +marked, resemblance," said the stranger, mockingly, "is a certain Mr. +Ferris Stanhope, a prosperous manufacturer of pink-tea literature. You +never heard the name--of course. But never mind about that. I should +advise you both to leave town anyway." + +"Is it trespassing too far if I ask--" + +"Any one who associates with little Hare, as I have a premonition that +you two will do if you stay, is born to trouble as the sparks fly +upward." + +Varney came a step nearer and rested his foot on the edge of the +packing-case. + +"Now that," said he, "is by all odds the best thing you've said yet. +Elucidate it a bit, won't you? I admit to some curiosity about that +little tableau in the square--" + +"Yes? Well, I owe you one for that box of matches, Beany--er--Mr.--and +it would be rather asinine for you or your pugilistic partner to begin +monkeying with our buzz-saw. I happened, you see, to overhear part of +your talk with J. Pinkney Hare just now. How others might view it I know +not, but to me it seemed only fair to warn you that that interesting +young man must be shunned by the wise. As to the mayoralty, he has as +much chance of getting in as a jack-rabbit has of butting a way through +the Great Wall of China. For we have a great wall here of the sturdiest +variety." + +He meant, as he briefly explained, the usual System, and back of it the +usual Boss: one Ryan, owner of the Ottoman saloon and the city of +Hunston, who held the town in the hollow of his coarse hand, and was +slowly squeezing it to death. + +"The election," he went on listlessly, "is only two weeks off, but the +rascal isn't lifting a finger. He doesn't have to. To-morrow night he +holds what he calls his annual 'town-meeting'--a fake and a joke. The +trustful people gather, listen to speeches by Ryan retainers, quaff free +lemonade. Nominally, everybody is invited to speak; really only the +elect are permitted to. I saw a reform candidate try it once, and it was +interesting to see how scientifically they put a crimp in him." + +"And J. Pinkney Hare?" queried Varney becoming rather interested. + +Was everything, the young man explained, that Ryan was not--able, +honest, unselfish, public-spirited. Studying the situation quietly for a +year, he had uncovered a most unholy trail of graft leading to high +places. But when he began to try to tell the people about it, he found +his way hopelessly blocked at every turn. + +"He can't even hire a hall," summarized the stranger. "Not to save his +immortal soul. That was the meaning of the ludicrous exhibition a few +minutes ago. In one word, he can't get a hearing. He might talk with the +tongues of men and angels, but nobody will listen to him. It is a dirty +shame. But what in the world can you expect? Lift a finger against the +gang, and, presto, your job's gone, and you can't find another high or +low. Ryan's money goes everywhere--into the schools, the church, the +press. The press. That, of course, is the System's most powerful ally. +The--infamous _Hollaston Gazette_--" + +"The _Hollaston Gazette_--is that published here?" asked Varney in +surprise, for the _Gazette_ was famous: one of those very rare +small-town newspapers which, by reason of great age and signal editorial +ability, have earned a national place in American journalism. + +"Named after the county. You have heard of it?" said the young man in a +faintly mocking voice, and immediately went on: "The _Gazette_ is eighty +years old. Even now, in these bad times, everybody in the county takes +it. They get all their opinions from it, ready-made. It is their Bible. +A fool can see what a power such a paper is. For seventy-seven years the +_Gazette_ fully deserved it. That was the way it won it. But all that is +changed now. And the paper is making a great deal of money." + +"It is crooked, then?" + +"I said, did I not, that it was for Ryan?" + +He lounged further back in the shadows upon his packing-case; he +appeared not to be feeling well at all. Varney regarded him with puzzled +interest. + +"A very depressing little story," he suggested, "but after all, hardly a +novel one. I don't yet altogether grasp why--" + +"Your Jeffries of a friend is a red-hot political theorist, isn't he?" +asked the other apathetically. "Our Hunston politicians are practical +men. They are after results, and seek them with small regard, I fear, +to copy-book precepts. You follow me? Rusticating strangers, visiting +sociological students, itinerant idealists, these would do well to speak +softly and walk on the sunny side of the road." + +"You appear," said Varney, his curiosity increasingly piqued, "to speak +of these matters with authority--" + +"Rather let us say with certitude." + +"Possibly you yourself have felt the iron-toothed bite of the machine?" + +"I?" + +"Why not?" + +The young man looked shocked; slowly his pale face took on a look of +cynical amusement. "Yes, yes. Certainly. Who more so?" He appeared to +hesitate a moment, and then added with a laugh which held a curious +tinge of defiance: "In fact, I myself have the honor of being the owner +and editor of the _Gazette_--Coligny Smith, at your service--" + +"Coligny Smith!" echoed Varney amazed. + +The young man glanced up. "It was my father you have heard of. He died +three years ago. However," he added, with an odd touch of pride, "he +always said that I wrote the better articles." + +There was a moment's silence. Varney felt by turns astonished, +disgusted, sorry, embarrassed. Then he burst out laughing. + +"Well, you have a nerve to tell me this. Smith. In doing so, you seem to +have brought our conversation to a logical conclusion. I thank you for +your kindly advice and piquant confession, and so, good evening." + +Mr. Smith straightened on his packing-case and spoke with unexpected +eagerness. + +"Oh--must you go? The night's so young--why not--come up to the Ottoman +and have something? I'll--I'd be glad to explain--" + +"I fear I cannot yield to the editorial blandishments this evening." + +"Well--I merely--" + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing. But remember--you'll get into trouble if you stay." + +Varney laughed. + +He went on toward his waiting gig feeling vaguely displeased with the +results of his half-hour ashore, and deciding that for the future it +would be best to give the town a wide berth. The privacy of the yacht +better suited his mission than Main Street, Hunston. However, the end +was not yet. He had not reached the landing before a thought came to him +which stopped him in his tracks. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +INTRODUCES MARY CARSTAIRS AND ANOTHER + +Clearly he must see Peter, at once, before that impetuous enthusiast had +had time to involve himself in anything, and tell him bluntly that he +must leave the affairs of Hunston alone until their own delicate +business had been safely disposed of. + +In such a matter as this it was not safe to take chances. Varney had a +curious feeling that young Mr. Smith's melodramatic warnings had been +offered in a spirit of friendliness, rather than of hostility. +Nevertheless, the eccentric young man had unmistakably threatened them. +While Varney had been more interested by the man, personally, than by +his whimsical menaces, the editor's conversation could certainly not be +called reassuring. Smith owned a corrupt newspaper; he was a clever man +and, by his own confession, an unscrupulous one, bought body and soul by +the local freebooters; and if he thought the headlong intruder Maginnis +important enough to warrant it, there were presumably no lengths to +which he would not go to make the town uncomfortable for him, to the +probable prejudice of their mission. Clearly, here was a risk which he, +as Mr. Carstairs's emissary, had no right to incur. The _Cypriani_ was +in no position to stand the fire of vindictive yellow journalism. +Besides, there was the complicating matter of his own curious +resemblance to somebody whom, it seemed, Hunston knew, and not too +favorably. + +Considerably annoyed, Varney turned his face back toward the town. To +avoid more publicity, he turned off the main thoroughfare to a narrow +street which paralleled it, and, walking rapidly, came in five minutes +to the street where Peter and the little candidate had left him. This +street came as a surprise to him: Hunston's best "residence section" +beyond doubt. It was really pretty, spaciously wide and flanked by +handsome old trees. Houses rose at increasingly long intervals as one +got away from the town; and they were for the most part charming-looking +houses, set in large lawns and veiled from public scrutiny by much fine +foliage. + +Varney cast about for somebody who would give him his bearings, and had +not far to look. + +Puffing stolidly on the butt of an alleged cigar, into which he had +stuck a sharpened match as a visible means of support, a boy who was +probably not so old as he looked sat upon the curbstone at the corner, +and claimed the world for his cuspidor. He was an ill-favored runt of a +boy, with a sedate manner and a face somewhat resembling a hickory-nut. + +Varney, approaching, asked him where Mr. Hare lived. Without turning +around, or desisting an instant from the tending of his cigar (which, +indeed, threatened a decease at any moment), the boy replied: + +"Acrost an' down, one half a block. Little yaller house wit' green +blinds and ornings. Yer could n't miss it. Yer party left dere ten +minutes ago, dough." + +"What party?" asked Varney puzzled. + +"Tall big party wit' yaller hat, stranger here. Seen him beatin' it out +the street for the road, him and Hare. Goin' some, they was." + +"How did you know I was looking for that party?" + +"Took a chanst," said the boy. "Do I win?" + +His stoical gravity made Varney smile. "You do--a good cigar. That one +of yours has one foot in the grave, hasn't it?" + +"T'ank you, boss." + +"By the way," he added casually, struck by a thought, "Mrs. Carstairs +must live on this street somewhere, doesn't she? Which way?" + +"Same way as yer party went. Last house on de street--Remsen Street. Big +white one, up on a hill like." + +Varney hurried off on the trail of his elusive friend. He was puzzled in +the last degree to know why Peter, having just entered Hare's house, +should have left it at once and gone racing off, with Hare, down this +empty street toward the open country. The one explanation that occurred +to him was on the whole an unwelcome one. This was that he had made an +opening to introduce the subject of Mary Carstairs, and the grateful +candidate had volunteered his friendly offices--perhaps to show Peter +the house, perhaps actually to take him up and present him. + +In the light of a depressed corner-lamp he glanced at his watch. Having +supposed that it must be nearly nine o'clock, he was surprised to find +that it was only a few minutes after eight. He had the handsome street +to himself. The night had grown very dark, and the faint but continuous +rumble of thunder was a warning to all pedestrians to seek shelter +without delay. Varney's stride was swift. Whatever Peter meant to do, he +wanted to overtake him before he did it, and gently lead him to +understand, here at the outset, that he was a subordinate in this +expedition, expected to do nothing without orders from above. + +But he found himself at the end of the street, and saw the country road +dimly winding on beyond, without having found a trace of Peter, or seen +any other human being. Here, for all his hurry, he was checked for a +moment by a sudden new interest. Mindful of the boy's succinct +directions, he paused in the shadow of the wood, which here came to the +sidewalk's edge, and looked across the street for the residence of Mrs. +Carstairs. + +Through the trees of a sloping lawn, his gaze fell at once upon a wide +rambling white house, directly opposite, well back from the street and +approached by a winding white driveway. The house was well lighted; +there was a porch-lamp lit; over the carriage-gate hung a large electric +globe. Despite the darkness of the night, Varney had a first-rate view. +The house was big; it was white; unquestionably it was up on a hill +like. In fact there could be no doubt in the world that this was the +house he had come from New York to find. + +The sight drew and interested him beyond all expectation. Presently, by +a curious coincidence, something happened which increased his interest +tenfold. His eye had run over the house, about the lawn, even up at the +windows, taking in every detail. There was no sign of life anywhere. But +now as he stood and watched, the swing front-door was unexpectedly +pushed open, and, like some feat in mental telepathy, a girl stepped out +upon the piazza. + +Involuntarily Varney shrank back into the shadows, assuming by instinct +the best conspirators' style, and glued his eyes upon the impelling +sight. Not that the girl herself was peculiarly fascinating to the eye. +The porch-light revealed her perfectly: a small, dark, nondescript +child, not above thirteen years old, rather badly dressed and, to say +truth, not attractive-looking in any way. But to Varney, at the moment, +she was the most irresistibly interesting figure in the six continents. + +She came to the top of the step and stood there, peering out into the +darkness as though looking for some one. Varney, from his dark retreat +stared back at her. There they stood unexpectedly face to face, the +kidnapper and his quarry. A sudden wild impulse seized the young man to +act immediately: to make a dash from his cover, bind the girl's mouth +with his handkerchief, toss her over his shoulder, and fly with her to +the yacht. That was the way these things ought to be done, not by the +tedious and furtive methods of chicanery. But, since this man-like +method was forbidden him, why should he not at least cross boldly and go +in--a lost wayfarer inquiring for directions--anything to start up the +vitally necessary acquaintance? Would he ever have a better chance? + +The thought had hardly come to him before the child herself killed it. +She turned as suddenly as she had come and disappeared into the house. +That broke the spell; and Varney, interested by the discovery that his +heart was beating above normal, slipped unseen from his lurking-place, +and resumed his interrupted progress after Peter and Hare. + +Beyond the Carstairs's fence of hedge, the houses stopped with the +sidewalk. The highway, having no longer anything to keep up appearances +for, dwindled into an ordinary country road, meandering through an +ordinary country wood. What could have carried Peter out here it was +impossible to conceive; but clearly something had, and Varney raced on, +hoping at every moment to descry his great form looming up ahead of him +out of the blackness. + +What luck--what beautiful luck--to have found her in his very first hour +in Hunston! It was half his work done in the wink of an eye. To-morrow +morning, the first thing, he would return to this quiet street, watch at +his ease for the child to come outdoors, saunter calmly from his +hiding-place, make friends with her. By this time to-morrow night, in +all human probability, he would be back in New York, his errand safely +accomplished. That done, Peter could play politics to his heart's +content. Meantime, it was more desirable than ever to tell him of these +unexpected developments and deter him from taking any step which might +complicate the game.... + +A loud thunderclap crashed across the train of his thought. Another and +a worse one crowded close upon it. He glanced up through the trees into +the inky cavern of the skies, and a single large drop of water spattered +upon his upturned forehead. + +"Hang it!" he thought disgustedly. "Here comes the rain." + +It came as though at his word, and with unbelievable suddenness. Thunder +rolled; the breeze stiffened into a gale. Another drop fell upon his +hat, and then another, and another. The young man came to an unwilling +halt. + +But he immediately saw that further pursuit was, for the moment at +least, out of the question. The storm broke with a violence strangely at +variance with the calm of the earlier evening. The heavens opened and +the floods descended. Shelter was to be found at once, if at all, but as +he hesitated, he remembered suddenly that he had not passed a house in +five minutes. In the same moment his eye fell upon a little cottage just +ahead of him, unlighted and barely perceptible in the thick darkness, +standing off the road not a hundred feet away. He made for it through +the driving rain and wind, stepped upon the narrow porch, discovered +immediately that it gave him no protection at all, and knocked loudly +upon the shut door. He got no answer. Trying it with a wet hand he +perceived that it was unlocked; and without more ado, he opened it and +stepped inside. + +It was evidently, as he had surmised, an empty house. The hall was dark +and very quiet. He leaned against the closed front door and dipped into +his pockets for a match. Behind him the rain fell in torrents, and the +turbulent wind dashed after it and hurled it against the streaming +windows. It had turned in half an hour from a peaceful evening to a wild +night, a night when all men of good sense and good fortune should be +sitting secure and snug by their own firesides. And where, oh where, was +Peter? + +Speculating gloomily on this and still exploring his pockets for a +match, he heard a noise not far away in the dark, and knew suddenly that +he was not alone. The next moment a voice floated to him out of the +blackness near at hand, clear, but a little irresolute, faintly +frightened. + +"Didn't some one come in? Who is there?" + +It was a woman's voice and a wholly charming one. There could hardly +have been its match in Hunston. + +"What a very interesting town!" the young man thought. "People to talk +to every way you turn." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE HERO TALKS WITH A LADY IN THE DARK + +Varney called reassuringly into the gloom: "I sincerely beg your pardon +for bursting in like that. I--had no idea there was any one here." + +There was a second's pause. + +"N--no," said the pretty voice, hesitatingly. "You--you couldn't--of +course." + +"But please tell me at once," he said, puzzled by this--"have I taken +the unforgivable liberty of breaking into your house?" + +"My house?" And he caught something like bewildered relief in her voice. +"Why--I--was thinking that I had broken into yours." + +Varney laughed, his back against the door. + +"If it were, I'm sure I should be able to offer you a light at the +least. If it were yours, now that I stop to think--well, perhaps it +_would_ be a little eccentric for you to be sitting there in your parlor +in the inky dark." + +To this there came no reply. + +"I suppose you, like me," he continued courteously, "are an unlucky +wayfarer who had to choose hastily between trespassing and being +drowned." + +"Yes." + +Inevitably he found himself wondering what this lady who shared his +stolen refuge could be like. That she was a lady her voice left no +doubt. His eye strained off into the Ethiopian blackness, but could make +neither heads nor tails of it. + +"Voices always go by contraries," he thought. "She's fifty-two and wears +glasses." + +Aloud he said: "But please tell me quite frankly--am I intruding?" + +"Not at all," said the lady, only that and nothing more. + +"Perhaps then you won't object if I find a seat? Leaning against a door +is so dull, don't you think?" + +He groped forward, hands outstretched before him, stumbled against the +stairway which he sought, and sat down uncomfortably on the +next-to-the-bottom step. Then suddenly the oddness of his situation +rushed over him, and, vexed though he was with the chain of needless +circumstances which had brought him into it, he with difficulty +repressed a laugh. + +An hour ago he had been lounging at peace upon the yacht, looking +forward to nothing more titillating than bed at the earliest respectable +hour. Now he was sitting with a strange lady of uncertain age in an +unlighted cottage on a lonely country road, while a howling thunderstorm +raved outside imprisoning him for nobody could say how long. In the +interval between these two extremes, he had discovered that he was a +"double," been threatened with violence, hopelessly lost Peter, and +found Mary Carstairs. Surely and in truth, a pretty active hour's work! + +On the tin roof of the cottage the rain beat a wild tattoo. Within, the +silence lengthened. Under the circumstances, Varney considered reserve +on the lady's part not unnatural; but a little talk, as he viewed the +matter, would tend to help the dreary evening through. + +He cleared his throat for due notice and began with a laugh. + +"I was industriously chasing two men from town when the storm caught me. +You know what I mean--not drumming them out of the city, but merely +pursuing them in this general direction. I wonder if by any chance you +happened to pass them on the road?" + +"N-no, I believe not." + +"A very small man, very well-dressed, and a very large man, very badly +dressed, wearing a kind of curious, rococo straw hat. I know," he mused, +"that you could not have forgotten that hat. Once seen--" + +"Oh!" she exclaimed with sudden evidences of interest--"do tell me--is +the smaller man you mention Mr. Hare?" + +"He is indeed," he answered surprised. "You know him? Oh, +yes,--certainly! In Hunston--" + +"Know him!" said she in tones of hardly suppressed indignation. "It is +he who is responsible for my being caught in this--this annoying +predicament." + +At something in the way the lady said that, Varney unconsciously chipped +twenty years off her age and conceded that she might be no more than +thirty-two. + +"I'm sorry to hear that," he said with a laugh. "I should say that Mr. +Hare has already had quite enough troubles for one night." + +"Oh--then you have seen him this evening?" + +"I had the pleasure of meeting him on the square not half an hour ago." + +Each waited for the other to say more; and it was the lady who yielded. +She went on hesitatingly, yet somehow as if she were not unwilling to +justify herself to this stranger in the curious position in which she +found herself. + +"It--is very strange--and unlike him," she said doubtfully. "He was to +call for me--at quarter past seven--and take me home. I was at the +seamstress's, perhaps quarter of a mile up the road. I waited and +waited--and then--Oh--what was that, do you know?" + +"Only this old floor cracking. Don't flatter it by noticing. How odd to +find, meeting in this way, that we are both searching for the same man. +Isn't it?" + +"It--seems to me even odder to find that he is not searching for me." + +She was sitting, so he judged from the sound, about fifteen feet away. +There was coldness in her voice as she spoke of the candidate. Varney +felt sorry for that young man when he next held converse with her. From +her voice he had also gathered that the dark rather frightened her, and +that the presence of an unknown man had not allayed her uneasiness; +though something of her reserve had vanished, he thought, when she found +that the intruder knew Mr. Hare. + +"Oh, but he was--is!" he cried encouragingly. + +"I'm positive that he's searching for you at this minute. Why, of +course--certainly! That would explain the whole thing." + +Sitting damply on the dark stairway, he told of J. Pinkney Hare's +evidently impromptu experiences in the public square, which had +undoubtedly knocked from his mind all memory of his engagement at the +seamstress's; and of the sudden recollection of it, which, there could +be no question, was what had sent him and his new friend bursting out of +the house and tearing for dear life up the road. + +"I'll bet," said he, "that not a minute after you turned into shelter, +they raced by here after you. Now they're kicking their heels at the +sewing-lady's, probably soaked through, and wild to know if you got home +safely. Oh, he's being punished for his sins, never fear." + +"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I +forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have +heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices, +but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone." + +"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!" + +"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world +ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him." + +He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And +immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at +twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his +obvious duty of escorting her home. + +In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked +loudly and scarily. + +"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a +match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?" + +"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you +I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever +since I came in." + +"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself. +"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?" + +"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing +it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm +awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase." + +Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world +like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she +said: "You are not--in this room, are you?" + +"I'm sitting quietly on the steps digging around for matches," he said. +"Would you prefer to have me come in there?" + +"Would you mind--? Not that I'm in the least frightened, but--" + +"It will give me great pleasure to come--faithfully searching my pockets +as I grope forward. Thus," he said, laughing, "I must grope only with my +head and feet, which is a slightly dangerous thing to do. Ouch! Where +are you, please?" + +"Here." + +"'Here' is not very definite, you know. I have nothing to steer by but +my ear. Would you mind talking a good deal for a while?" + +"It is not often," she said, with further signs of a thawing in her +manner, "that a woman gets an invitation like that." + +"Opportunity knocks at your door, golden, novel, and unique." + +"The luck of it is that I can't think of anything to say. Would you care +to have me hum something?" + +Off came the lady's glasses, never to be donned again in fancy or in +life; and Varney was ready to admit that there might be ladies in +Hunston who were worse-looking than she by far. In the Stygian blackness +he collided with a chair and paused, leaning upon the back of it. + +"I'd like extremely to have you hum. From your voice, I--I'm sure that +you do it div--awfully well. But since you seem to leave it to me, I'd +honestly rather have you do something else." + +"Yes?" + +Larry laughed. "It's a game. A--an evening pastime--a sort of novel +guessing contest. Played by strangers in the dark. You see--I must tell +you that ever since you first spoke, my mind has been giving me little +thumbnail sketches--each one different from the last--of what you look +like." + +She said nothing to this; so he laughed again. + +"Oh, it's not mere curiosity, you know. It's purely a scientific matter +with me. The science of deduction. The voice, you know, tells little or +nothing. I may say that I have made something of a study of voices, and +have discovered that they always go by contraries. For this reason," he +laughed gayly, "when you first spoke, I--but perhaps I am simply tiring +you?" + +There was a small pause, and then the lady spoke, with apparent +reluctance: + +"I am not tired." + +Varney smiled into the great darkness. "Well, when I first heard your +voice--ha, ha!--I made up my mind that you could not possibly be less +than fifty-two." + +He was rewarded with a faint laugh: this time there could be no doubt of +it. + +"You remember that mythological tunnel where everybody went in old and +came out young. This conversation has been like that. Since we have +talked," said Varney, "I have knocked thirty years off your age. But +much remains to be told--and that is the game. Are you dark?" + +"Are you punning?" + +"This is no punning matter," he said; and began his third exploration of +himself for a match. And above them the water continued to thud upon the +roof like a torrent broken out of a dam. + +"This is _too_ bad!" breathed the lady impatiently, and plainly she was +not speaking to Varney. "I believe it's coming down harder and harder +every minute!" + +"Yes," he answered cheerfully, "the good old rain is at it in earnest. +We're probably fixed for hours and hours. I might argue, you know," he +added, "that I have a right to know these things. The box of matches I +just gave away like a madman would have told me, and no questions asked. +Matches and lamps you have none, but such as you have--" + +"Could you not talk of something else, please?" + +Varney laughed. "Certainly, if I must. Only I've been rather generous +about this, I think, showing you my hand and giving you the chance to +laugh at me. You see, for all I know you may be fifty-two, after all. Or +even sixty-two--Oh, glory! Hallelujah!" + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! Just I have found a match. That's all!" + +"A _match_! Splendid!" she cried, and her voice suddenly seemed to come +from a higher point in the darkness, as though she had risen. "Just one! +Oh, we--you must be extremely careful with it." + +"The trouble is," he said with exaggerated dejection, "it's pretty wet. +I don't know whether it will strike or not." + +"You must _make_ it strike. Oh, it will be--unpardonable--if you don't +make it strike!" + +"Then I'll throw my soul into the work. I'll concentrate my whole +will-power upon it. On the back of this chair here--shall I?" + +"All right. I'll concentrate too. Are--you ready?" + +"Ready it is," said Varney. + +Gently he drew the match across the rough wood of the chair-back, his +ear all eager expectancy--and nothing happened. Thrice he did this +fruitless thing, and something told him that a large section of the +sulphur had been rubbed away into eternity. + +"It's nip and tuck," he breathed, stifling an impulse to laugh. "Nip and +tuck!" + +Pressing the match's diminished head firmly against the wood, he drew it +downward vigorously and long. There was a faint crackle, a little +splutter, and--glory of glories!--a tiny flame faltered out into the +darkness. + +"Oh--_be careful_!" + +Varney cupped his hand about the little flare, and for a moment ceased +to breathe. Then it caught more fully, and it was evident to both that +the victory was won. + +He had meant to look instantly about for lamp or candle to light; but if +all his future happiness had hinged upon it, it seemed to him that he +could not have helped one glance at the lady who shared that shelter and +that match with him. + +She stood a few feet away, regarding him breathlessly, hatted, gloved, +all in white, one hand resting lightly on the center-table, one folded +about the crook of a dainty draggled parasol. The match threw a small +and ghostly light, but he saw her, and she wore no veil. + +"Why--why--I--" + +"Oh, quick! There's a lamp just behind you." + +He caught himself with a start. By incredible luck a lamp was at his +very elbow; as it was the match died on the wick. He put back the +chimney and shade, turned up the wick, and the room was bathed in golden +light. + +It was a good-sized room, evidently newly furnished and as neat as a +bandbox. The empty book-case on which the lamp rested was of handsome +quartered oak, which transiently struck him as curious. But in the next +instant he turned away and forgot all about it. + +The lady stood where she had risen and was regarding him without a word. +The lamplight fell full upon her. He came nearer, and his waning +assurance shook him like a pennant in the wind and was suddenly gone. +The sense of _camaraderie_ which the dark had given faded; his easy +friendliness left him; and he was an embarrassed young man face to face +with a girl whose sudden beauty seemed to overwhelm him with the +knowledge that he did not so much as know her name. + +"None of my thumbnail sketches," he faltered, "made you look like this." + +She had rested her wet parasol against the table, where a slow pool +gathered at the ferrule, and was pulling on more trimly her long white +gloves. Now she looked at him rather quizzically, though her young eyes +reflected something of his own unsteadying embarrassment. + +"No," she said, "I shall not be sixty-two for--for some time yet. But of +course it was a game--a pastime--where I had a--little the advantage. Do +you know, I--I am not entirely surprised, after all." + +"Oh, aren't you?" he said, completely mystified, but as charmed by her +smile as he was by the subtle change in her manner which had come with +the lighting of that match. + +"And it _was_ nice of you to tell me that polite story at the +beginning," she said. "And quick--and clever. When I heard the front +door burst open, the first thing I thought of, really, was that it must +be you." + +"I can't think," he said, unable to take his eyes off her, "what in the +world you are talking about." + +She laughed with something of an effort, and sat down exquisitely in a +cruel cane chair. "Well, then--_do_ you forgive me for taking possession +of your house like this? You will, won't you? I can't be silly, now, and +pretend not to know you. But really I never dreamed that you--" + +"Is it possible," he broke in stormily, "that you are mistaking me for +that insufferable Stanhope?" + +She looked at him startled, dumfounded; in her eyes amazement mingled +with embarrassment; then her brow wrinkled into a slow, doubtful smile. + +"Oh-h--I beg your pardon! I--did n't understand. But is it my fault that +I've seen your picture a hundred times? Yes, I suppose it is; for, at +the risk of making you crosser still, I'll confess that I--I cut it out +and framed it." + +Varney leaned his elbow on the mantel and faced her. + +"You have made a mistake," he said. "I am not Mr. Stanhope." + +"You mean," she laughed, very pretty and pink, "that it is no affair of +mine that you are." + +A kind of desperation seized him. It was evident that she did not +believe him, just as Coligny Smith had not believed him, and the plump +young woman of the grocery who had used his Christian name. He was +almost ready not to believe himself. However, there were cards in his +pocket; he got one of them out, and coming nearer, handed it to her. + +"My name is Laurence Varney," he said mechanically, for that slogan +seemed fated to meet skeptics everywhere. "I am from New York and have +happened to come up here on a friend's yacht to--to spend a few days. +You have made a mistake." + +She took the card, held it lightly in her gloved hand, bowed to him with +mocking courtesy. + +"I am very glad to meet you--Mr. Laurence Varney! I--I am from New York, +too, and have happened to come up here on the New York Central with my +mother to spend a few years. And I live in a white house half a mile +down the road, where I ought to have been an hour ago. And I am Mary +Carstairs, who has read all your books and thinks that they--Oh"--she +broke off all at once: for there was no missing the look in his +astounded face. "What in the world have I said now?" + +"You--can't be--_Mary Carstairs_!" he cried. + +"Is--that so terrible?" she laughed, a little uncertainly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +IN WHICH MARY CARSTAIRS IS INVITED TO THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +But he recovered in a flash, aware of the criticalness of that moment, +and met her bewildered gaze steadily. + +"Terrible? Certainly not. Your name surprised me a little. That was all. +I thought, you see, that you were somebody else." + +"Yes? Who?" + +"I really--do not know exactly. Do forgive my stupidity, won't you? As I +say, I was just a little surprised." + +"You would explain to a man," she said, "and don't you think you ought +to to me? If you did not know exactly who you thought I was, why should +my name surprise you so?" + +He picked up a hideous china swan from a smart little oak stand and +examined it with excessive interest. + +"It was merely that I happen to know some one in New York who had +mentioned you--and done it in a way to make me think you were not--very +old. In fact, I had supposed that Miss Mary Carstairs wore short dresses +and a plait down her back. You see," he said, with a well-planned smile, +"how absurdly wrong I was. And then, just now, somebody pointed out your +house to me. There was a girl standing in the doorway--a small, dark +girl, with--" + +A peal like chimes cut him short. "Dear Jenny Thurston! Our +seamstress's little girl. She is spending the day with my mother, while +I've been spending most of the day with _her_ mother! Turn about! But I +wish you'd tell me," she said, "who it is that could have spoken of +me--to you. How interesting that we have a friend in common!" + +"Not a friend," he said grimly, at the window. "Only a former-- +acquaintance of yours--somebody that I imagine you have pretty well +forgotten. I'll tell you--another time. But I see it has stopped raining, +Miss--Miss--Miss Carstairs. Perhaps we had better take advantage of the +lull to start?--for I hope you are going to let me act for Mr. Hare, and +walk home wih you." + +"Oh--would you! Then indeed we had!" she said rising at once. "I am +horribly late now: I know my mother is frantic. I don't mind your not +telling me that, really! But--it is odd that you should have spoken of +my age twice to-night. Shall I tell you something, Mr. Stanhope--to show +you why I have had to give up pigtails? This is my birthday: I am +nineteen to-day!" + +She raised her eyes, shining, heavy-fringed, deep as the sea and bluer, +and looked at him. His own fell instantly. A shade of annoyance flitted +across his still face. + +"It is a delightful surprise," he said, mechanically. "But you must not +call me Mr. Stanhope, please, Miss Carstairs." + +"Why--mayn't I call you by your name?" + +"My name," said Varney, "in fairly legible print, is on the card which +you hold in your hand." + +She raised her eyes and looked at him, perplexed, hesitating, a little +mortified, like one who has encountered an unlooked-for rebuff. "Forgive +me," she ventured rather shyly, "but do you think it would be possible +for you to--to keep an incog here--where you must have so many friends? +If you want to do that--to try it--of course I'll not tell a soul. But +I'd like it very much if you could trust--_me_, who have known you +through your books for so long." + +"I should be quite willing to trust you, Miss Carstairs, but there is +nothing to trust you about. I am not incog. I am not the author. I have +written no books whatever--" + +"Ah! Then good-bye," she said with a swift change of manner, starting at +once for the door. "I shall not trouble you to walk home with me. Thank +you again for giving me shelter and light during the storm." + +"Will you be good enough to wait one minute?" + +She paused with one gloved hand on the knob, cool, resolute, a little +angry, the blue battery of her eyes fixing him across her white +embroidered shoulder. But he had turned away, hands thrust deep into the +pockets of his coat, brow rumpled into a frown, jaw set to anathema of +the plight in which a needless fortune had plunged him. + +If he let Uncle Elbert's daughter go like this, he might as well put the +_Cypriani_ about at once for New York, for he knew that he would never +have the chance to talk with her again. With engaging young +friendliness which overrode reserve, she had been moved to ask his +confidence, and he had angered her, even hurt her feelings, it seemed, +by appearing to withhold it. In return she had thrown down the issue +before him, immediate and final. Abstract questions of morals, and there +were new ones of great seriousness now, would have to wait. Should he +allow her to think that he was another man, or should he bid her +good-bye and abandon his errand? + +There was no alternative: she had made that unmistakable. His oath to +her father came suddenly into his mind. After all, was it not a little +absurd to boggle over one small deception when the whole enterprise, as +now suddenly revealed, was to be nothing but one continuous and colossal +one? + +"Miss--Miss Carstairs," said Varney, "with _you_ I shall not argue this. +I am going to let you think I am whoever you want. We needn't say +anything more about it, need we? Only--I'll ask you to call me by the +name I gave you, please, and, so far as you can, to regard me that way. +Is that--a bargain?" + +Mary Carstairs stood at the threshold of the lighted room, looking at +him from under her wide white hat, eyes shining, lips smiling, cheeks +faintly flushed with a sense of the triumph she had won. + +"Of course," she said. "And I don't think you'll need ever be sorry for +having trusted me--_Mr. Varney!"_ + +He bowed stiffly. "If you will kindly open the door, I will blow out the +lamp and give myself the pleasure of taking you home." + +They left the hospitable cottage of Ferris Stanhope, and went out into +the night, side by side, Varney and Mary Carstairs. The young man's +manner was deceptively calm, but his head was in a whirl. However, the +one vital fact about the situation stood out in his mind like a tower +set on a hill. This was that Uncle Elbert's daughter was walking at his +elbow, on terms of acquaintanceship and understanding. The thing had +happened with stunning unexpectedness, but it had happened, and the game +was on. The next move was his own, and what better moment for making it +would he ever have? + +The road was dark and wet. Rain-drops from the trees fell upon them as +they walked, gathered pools splashed shallowly under their feet. +Suddenly Varney said: + +"Do you happen to be interested in yachts, Miss Carstairs? Mine is +anchored just opposite your house, I believe, and it would be a pleasure +to show her to you sometime." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +CONCERNING MR. FERRIS STANHOPE, THE POPULAR NOVELIST; ALSO PETER, THE +QUIET ONLOOKER + +Peter had not yet returned to the yacht when Varney went to bed that +night. Like the Finnegan of song, he was gone again when Varney rose +next morning. Indeed, it was only too clear that his Celtic interests +had been suddenly engrossed by matters much nearer his heart than the +prospect, as he saw the thing, of spanking a naughty child. + +"He was off by half-past eight, sir," the steward, McTosh, told Varney +at breakfast. "He said to tell you to give yourself no uneasiness, sir; +that he was only going to Mr. Hare's--I think was the name--for a short +call, and would return by ten o'clock." + +"What else did he say?" + +"Well, sir, he was saying how the poltix of the village is not all they +might be, but he seemed very cheerful, sir, and took three times to the +chops." + +At dinner-time last night such extraordinary behavior from his +fellow-conspirator would have both disturbed and angered Varney. At +breakfast-time this morning it hardly interested him. He had employed +his walk from the cottage of refuge to the Carstairs front gate to +unbelievable advantage. In fact, his mission in Hunston seemed to be all +over but the shouting, and until the moment of final action arrived, +there appeared no reason why Peter should not employ his time in any way +he saw fit. + +The heavy storm had scoured the air, and the world was bright as a new +pin. In the shaded solitude of the after-deck, Mr. Carstairs's agent sat +in an easy-chair with a cigarette, and thought over the remarkable +happenings of his first night in Hunston. In retrospect young Editor +Smith seemed to be but the ordered instrument of fate, dispatched in a +rowboat to draw him against his will from the yacht to the town, where +all his business was neatly arranged for his doing. Certainly it +appeared as if the hand of intelligent destiny must have been in it +somewhere. No mere blind luck could have driven him half a mile into the +country to the one spot in all Hunston--impossibly unlikely as it +was--where he could become acquainted with Uncle Elbert's daughter +without the formality of an introduction. + +Uncle Elbert! How desperately the old man must desire his daughter to +have planned a mad scheme like this with a subterfuge at the expense of +his best friend cunningly hidden away in the heart of it. Yet, after the +first staggering flash, Varney had found it impossible to be angry with +Mr. Carstairs. He only felt sorry for him, sorrier than he had ever felt +for anybody in his life. The old man's madness and his deceit were but +the measure of his desire for his daughter. And the more he desired her, +so it seemed to Varney, the more he was entitled to have her. + +Interrupting his meditations, the steward approached on silent feet, +bearing a flat brown-paper package in his hand. It appeared that the +under-steward had just returned from a marketing tour in Hunston, had +met Mr. Maginnis on the street, and been ordered to take back the parcel +to Mr. Varney. + +"All right, McTosh," said Varney. + +He broke the string with some curiosity and pulled off the wrappers. +Within was nothing but a copy of a current literary monthly. + +A present of a magazine from Peter! This was a delicate apology for his +remissness, indeed. "He will be sending me chocolates next," thought +Varney, not a little puzzled. + +He turned the pages curiously. Soon, observing a bit of brown +wrapping-paper sticking out between the leaves, he opened the magazine +at that point and found himself looking at a picture; and he sat still +and stared at it for a long time. + +It was the full-page portrait of a young man of some thirty years: a +rather thin young man with a high forehead, a straight nose, and a +smallish chin. The face was good-looking, but somehow not quite +attractive. About the eyes was an expression faintly unpleasant, which +the neat glasses did not hide. On the somewhat slack lip was a slight +twist, not agreeable, which the well-kept mustache could not conceal. +Still it was an interesting face, clever, assured, half-insolent. To +Varney, it was exceptionally interesting; for removing the mustache and +eye-glasses, it might have passed anywhere for his own. + +Below the portrait was printed this legend: + +_FERRIS STANHOPE_. + +The popular author of "Rosamund," etc., who will reopen the old Stanhope +cottage near Hunston, New York, and spend the autumn there upon a new +novel. + +Mr. Stanhope's health has not been good of late, and his physicians have +recommended an extended stay in this quiet Hudson River country. + + * * * * * + +Here was that "Mr. Ferris," whom the young lady of the grocery had coyly +saluted; the "Beany," whom the pale young editor had bluntly bidden to +leave town; and the literary celebrity whom Miss Mary Carstairs so +evidently and so warmly admired. Varney stared at the portrait with a +kind of fascination. Now he saw many points of difference between the +face of "the popular author" and his own. The resemblance was only +general, after all. Still it was undoubtedly strong enough to warrant +all kinds of mistakes. + +What a very extraordinary sort of thing to have happen! + +Suddenly his eye fell upon a penciled line in the white margin above the +picture which had at first escaped him: + +"On no account leave the yacht till I come back. Vitally important." + +Varney pitched the magazine across the deck with an irritated laugh. +Peter--utterly ignorant of how matters stood--attempting to fire off +long-distance orders and direct his movements. The splendid gall! + +As it chanced, he had no occasion to leave the yacht, either before or +after Peter got back. His work was done. He made himself comfortable +with morning papers and a novel--not one of Mr. Stanhope's--and began to +seek beguilement. + +But his reading went forward rather fitfully. There were long intervals +when his book, "eleventh printing" though it was, slipped forgotten to +his knees, and he sat staring thoughtfully over the sunny water.... + +Peter failed to keep his promise about returning to the yacht at ten +o'clock. In fact, it was four o'clock that afternoon when he arrived, +and at that, the manner in which he sprang up the stair indicated him as +a man who had but few moments to spare to yachts and that sort of thing. + +Varney, at his ease upon the transom, watched his friend's approach with +a quizzical eye. + +"Greetings, old comrade! How did you leave them all in Hunston?" + +Peter, who, truth to tell, had been looking forward to bitter personal +denunciation, looked somewhat relieved, and laughed. However, his manner +suggested little of hang-dog consciousness of guilt; it was far too +absorbed and business-like for that. He dropped down into a chair by +Varney and swabbed the back of his neck with a damp-looking +handkerchief. + +"Larry, who'd have dreamed last night that we were parting for all this +time?" + +"Well, not I for one." + +"Awfully sorry about it all, and I know you'll think I'm acting like a +funny kind of helper. I hadn't the faintest idea of bottling you up on +the yacht all day like this, but--well, you might say, Larry, that a man +couldn't help it to save his life. I certainly meant to be back by the +time you had finished breakfast and explain the whole situation to +you--there are a deuced lot of complications, you know--but one thing +led right on to another and--good Lord! I couldn't find a minute with a +fine-tooth comb." + +"It's all right, statesman. You don't hear me making any complaints. All +I ask is a little _résumé_ of what you've been doing since you so +cleverly lost me. In Reform to the ears, I suppose?" + +Peter again looked rather surprised at his chief's easy indifference. + +"You want that part of it first? Well," he said rapidly, "I've been +trying to do four days' work for Reform in one, and a pinch it's been to +make both ends meet, I can tell you. At it practically without a break +since I left you last night. J. Pinkney took me right in and bared his +soul. Said he was down and out and beaten to a fluid. A clever little +devil fast enough, but no more idea of how to play the game than a baby +baboon. When he caught on to what I wanted to do for him, he would have +fallen on my neck except that he isn't that kind. That was this morning. +I worked out my idea in the still watches: couldn't sleep for thinking +of it. It just means this: if my plans carry through Hare gets the +biggest hearing to-night that this old town can give. And I think +they'll carry all right. You wouldn't be interested in the details. Now +this other thing--" + +"Oh, but I would, though! Give me at least a peep behind the scenes +before you dash on. What about these plans of yours?" + +Peter laid down the newspaper with which he had been busily fanning +himself. A sudden light came into his eyes. + +"I'll tell you just how it all happened," he said in an eager voice. +"Only I'll have to hurry, as I'm due back in town right away--that is, +of course, unless you should need me for anything. Well, I left Hare +last night after only a couple of hours' talk, listening to the same old +story of boss-rule, and giving him, if I do say it, some cracking good +practical pointers. By the way, we were interrupted at that. Hadn't got +started before Hare remembered that he'd promised to bring some girl +home from somewhere, and dragged me off a mile down the road, only to +find out afterwards that she'd gone home with somebody else. Made me +tired. I left him about ten o'clock and started down Main Street for the +river, meaning to come straight back here. But as I was footing it +along, thinking over my talk with Hare and attending to my own business, +who should brace me but that pale-faced rascal we saw playing dead in +the rowboat. This time the _poseur_ was lying flat on some packing-cases +in front of a store, and who do you suppose he turned out to be?" + +"The brains of the machine," said Varney. + +He told briefly of his own meeting with Coligny Smith at the same spot +two hours earlier, and of the editor's stagey warnings. + +"Exactly the way he did me!" cried Peter. "Saved the announcement of +who he was for the grand _finale_ in Act V. I got mad as a wet hen, told +him what I thought of him in simple language, and then when the grafter +twitted me to go and do something about it, I broke loose and swore that +I'd make Hare Mayor of Hunston if I had to buy the little two-by-twice +town to do it. Told him to pack his trunk, for all the crooks would soon +be traveling toward the timber. So then I turned right around, hiked +back to Hare's, told him what I'd done, gave him my hand on it, and +pulled out the old family check-book. This morning I went to him and +laid before him the greatest scheme that ever was. You know Hare can't +get a hall to speak in for love or money--nobody dares rent him one; he +can't buy an inch of space in the _Gazette_; he can't put spreads on the +billboards without having 'em pasted out in the night. To-night the +whole thing's been done for him--Ryan's big town-meeting. Well, we're +going to try to _swipe that meeting_--do you see? I'm getting in some +husky fellows from New York to see fair play, and so on. Oh, it's a +bully chance--you can see! I've spent a nice bunch of father's money +working the scheme up, and, by George! I believe we are going to get by +with it. If we do--well, we give this town the biggest shock it's had in +years, and that's the way reform begins, Larry. _Shock_!" + +Something of his contagious enthusiasm spread to and fired Varney. Fate +had thrown in their way a plucky and honest man engaged in an apparently +hopeless fight against overwhelming powers of darkness. He deserved +help. And what possible risk was there now when the _Cypriani's_ work +was practically done? + +"I can't say," continued Peter dutifully, "that this is exactly playing +the quiet onlooker, as my orders read. As I said last night, I consider +that this excursion into politics will help our little business, not +interfere with it. It will divert attention. It will seem to explain why +we are here. But if you don't agree with me, if you want me to drop +it--" + +"No," said Varney, slowly. "I don't." + +"Good for you, old sport!" cried Peter, evidently relieved. "Needless to +say, I'm right on the job whenever you need me. And nothing's going to +happen. Trust me. Now as to this other matter. You got that magazine I +sent this morning?" + +"Yes. Thanks for the picture of my twin brother. But why couldn't I +leave the yacht till you got back?" + +Peter stared. "Why, just that, of course. Deuced unfortunate +coincidence, isn't it? Everybody in town is going to think that you are +this fellow Stanhope." + +"Well?" + +"_Well_? Oh, I forgot--you haven't heard. Well, from the stories that +are floating round town to-day, Stanhope is a cad of the original brand. +He was born here--lived here until he was twenty-one or two. Women were +his trouble. The climax came about twelve years ago. The girl was named +Orrick--Mamie Orrick, I believe. Nobody knows exactly what became of +her, but they practically ran Stanhope out of the town then. Well--there +it is." + +He paused long enough to light one of his Herculean cigars, employing +his hat as a wind-shield, and rapidly continued: "It's very curious and +strange, and all that, but there it is. A month or so ago the _Gazette_ +announced that Stanhope was coming back to Hunston. Last night you were +seen on the square, and now the news has spread like wildfire that the +author has arrived. Hare heard a lot of gossip on the street to-day. +He's lived here only a few years and doesn't know anything personally; +but he says the old feeling against Stanhope seems to have revived as +though it had all happened yesterday. Orrick, the girl's father, a +half-witted old dotard, was heard to say that he would shoot on sight. +There are three or four others besides Orrick who've got personal +grudges too. If any of these meet you, there is almost sure to be +trouble. How is that for a little complication?" + +"And this was the reason you sent me word to lock myself up on the +_Cypriani_? You're a bird, Peter. Not that it made any difference, but I +ventured to suppose that my leaving before you got back would interfere +with some plans you had been making for me, and--" + +"It would interfere with some plans I have been making for you, in a +general way, to have you assassinated." + +"Stuff. Ten to one all these stories that somebody has been so careful +to have get back to you are right out of the whole cloth--" + +"What's the use of setting up your cranky opinions against the hard +facts? The plain truth is that everybody who ever heard of Stanhope is +going to give you the cold shoulder for a dog; we can depend absolutely +on that." + +But Varney had his own reasons for depending on nothing of the sort. + +"You've been imposed upon, Peter. In fact, one of the population mistook +me for the author last night, and instead of giving me the cold +shoulder, as you say, she seemed to think that being Stanhope was the +best credentials that a man could have." + +"She? Who're you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about Uncle Elbert's daughter, Miss Mary Carstairs. I had +the pleasure of meeting her last night." + +"The devil you did!" cried Peter, laughing with astonishment. "You +certainly walk off with the prize for prompt results. How in the world +did you manage it?" + +Varney told him succinctly how he had managed it. + +"Fine! Fine! Honestly, I was getting afraid that you never could do it +at all, with the rotten reputation they've pinned on you here. Good +enough! Still it's absurd to cite the opinion of a little child in a +matter like this." + +"It depends upon what you call a little child, doesn't it? Miss +Carstairs is nineteen years old." + +Peter straightened in his chair with a jerk, and stared at him as though +one or the other had suddenly gone mad. + +"_Nineteen_! Why, I thought she was twelve." + +"So did I." + +"Why, how in Sam Hill did you ever make such an asinine mistake?" + +Varney gave an impatient laugh. + +"What difference does that make now? My impression was that the +separation took place about eight years ago. It may have been twelve. My +other impression was that the girl was about four at the time. She may +have been eight instead. If it's of any interest to you, I should say +that the mistake was natural enough. Besides, Uncle Elbert rather helped +it along." + +"Uncle Elbert rather lied to you--that's what he did," said Peter with +the utmost quietness. + +There was a considerable silence. Peter pulled frowningly at his cigar; +it had gone out but he was too absorbed to notice it, and mechanically +pulled on. Presently he raised his head and looked at Varney. + +"Well? This ends it, I suppose? You'll go back to New York this +afternoon?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to stay and carry it through just as I +expected." + +Peter tapped the chair-arm with his heavy fingers. "Why?" + +"Because--well, I promised to, and on the strength of my promise, Uncle +Elbert has gone to trouble and expense for one thing, and has pinned +high hopes on me, for another. I had my chance to ask questions and make +terms and stipulations--and I didn't do it. That was my fault. I am not +even sure that he meant to deceive me. I have no right to break a +contract because I find that my part in it is going to be harder than I +thought." + +"This business about her age changes everything. Carstairs has no legal +rights over a nineteen-year-old daughter." + +"Legal rights! My dear Peter, you never supposed I thought I was doing +anything legal, did you? No, no; the moral part of it has been my prop +and stay all along, and that still holds. I promised without conditions, +and I'll go ahead on the same terms." + +"Give me a match," said Peter thoughtfully. "Maybe you are right, +Larry," he added presently. "I only wanted to point out another way of +looking at it. I stand absolutely by your decision. You think that this +girl is wrong-headed and obstinate, and that her father has a moral +right to have her, over age or not. This--discovery makes it a pretty +serious business, but of course you've thought of all that. But--will it +be possible now?" + +"I have invited her," said Varney, with a light laugh, "to lunch on the +_Cypriani_ on Thursday with two or three other Hunston friends." + +"Well?" + +"She accepted with every mark of pleasure. Great men like Stanhope, it +seems, require no introduction: it beats me. The point now is to find +the other Hunston friends." + +"Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne--the very thing!--chaperon and all! +I'll invite them to-night. Then the whole thing's done!" Peter sat +silent a moment, looking at Varney. "I've been awfully rushed to-day," +he resumed, "because if I was going to help Hare at all, I didn't dare +lose this one big opportunity. But remember, anything that has to be +done from now on--I'm your man." + +"There'll be nothing more now until Thursday. The thing's practically +done." + +Peter was still looking at him steadily. "It's going to be dirt easy, +provided we don't weaken. You can't do things to your friends, but you +can emphatically do them to your enemies. We have got to remember always +that this girl, who has been so heartless to her old fool of a father, +is our enemy." + +"Yes, that is what we have got to remember." + +"Good Lord!" cried Peter, looking at his watch. "Twenty minutes past +four, and I must be at the hall at four-thirty sharp. I'll have to sneak +right away. You're going to sit tight on the yacht, of course?" + +"Never! I like to have a little of the fun myself. I must certainly take +in this meeting to-night, and watch you put your heel on their necks and +all that." + +"Don't! With what you've got to do, you can't afford to expose yourself. +What's the use of running risks, even little ones, when there is nothing +to gain?" + +"Satan reproving sin! Fudge! Free yourself once for all, my dear sir, +that I'm starring in The Prisoner on the Yacht for the next three days, +or anything of that sort." + +"Well, if you will go," said Peter, reluctantly, "here's a reserved seat +ticket--a peacherine, right up at the front." + +"Great! Count on me to lead the applause." + +Peter rose. His engrossed brow advertised the fact that his thought had +already flown back to his own private maelstrom of new concerns. + +"If Hare gets his chance to-night," he meditated out loud, "you can rely +on him to make the most of it. He'll make good; he's a man, sound in +wind and limb, head and heart. I do wish, though, he wasn't so--somehow +innocent--so easy--so confoundedly affable and handshaking with +everybody that comes along. There's a sneaky-looking stranger at the +hotel--rubber-heeled fellow named Higginson, with one of these black +felt hats pulled down over his eyes like a stage villain--that Hare +never laid eyes on till to-day. For all he knows the man may be an agent +of Ryan's, a hired spy imported to--By Jove! That's just what he is, +I'll bet!" he cried suddenly; and after a frowning pause, hurried warmly +on: "Don't you remember last night, just after we hit the town, I said +there was a man following us--sneaked up the alley when he saw me +looking at him?" + +"I believe I do, Peter. But the fact is that I met so many exciting +people last night--" + +"It's the same man--it was Higginson!" said Peter positively. "I'm sure +of it! I didn't get a look at his face last night, but it's the same +hat, same figure--everything. I'll bet anything he's on Ryan's payroll; +and there's little Hare hobnobbing with him as friendly as though they'd +been classmates at college! That kind of free-for-all geniality doesn't +go, you know! A reformer in a rotten town like this," said Peter +vehemently "would do well to cultivate a profound distrust of +strangers." + +Varney burst out laughing. + +"You yourself have known Hare from the cradle, I believe?" + +"I'm different," said Peter without a smile. "Well! I must move. Now +let's see--that lunch. What time shall I ask Hare and Mrs. Marne for?" + +"Two o'clock, Thursday. I didn't have the nerve," Varney explained, "to +ask Miss Carstairs for to-day--rather lucky I didn't--and she was +engaged for Thursday." + +"Right. I'll arrange it all. Well, for the Lord's sake take care of +yourself to-night, Larry, and trust me to keep out of trouble. So long." + +Varney looked after Peter's disappearing back, and envied him all the +fun he was having. His own lot was certainly far less entertaining. +However, it was his own; and here he resembled his friend in one respect +at least. His thoughts, like Peter's, had a way just now of reverting at +short notice to the matters in which he himself was most closely +concerned. + +He lay back idly among the cushions, and let his mind once more run over +the unexpected problems of his situation. + +The new graveness of what he was pledged to do had, of course, been +strongly present in his mind from the first moment of revelation. +Kidnapping a nineteen-year-old girl was certainly, as Peter had pointed +out, a pretty serious business. He perceived that it would not look well +in the papers in the least. Also if she cared to raise a row +afterwards, there might be an aftermath which would not be wholly a +laughing matter. + +Nevertheless, this side of the question seemed remote and of minor +interest to him just now. The problem appeared to be a personal one, not +a question of statutes and judges. In his talk with Miss Carstairs +before he knew her by name, he had failed to notice anything that +suggested the spoiled and wilful child he had come to find. He could +remember nothing she had said or done that helped him at all to think of +her as his enemy. The fact was that it was all quite the other way. And +this helped him to understand now, as he had not understood before, why +Uncle Elbert had begged a solemn oath from him with such a piteous look +on his handsome, haggard old face. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +VARNEY MEETS WITH A GALLING REBUFF, WHILE PETER GOES MARCHING ON + +Peter's pronounced views as to Mr. Stanhope were not, it appeared, +purely of the stuff that dreams are made of. Testimony to the author's +lack of popularity in his native town came to Varney with unexpected +promptness. + +In the corner of the square, as he swung along toward the Academy +Theatre that evening, he found himself suddenly confronted by a man who, +lounging against the fence of a shabby dwelling, straightened +dramatically at his approach and bent a sharp gaze upon him. He was a +tall, shambling fellow with a white cloth swathed about the top of his +head; and Varney, in the act of passing, suddenly recognized him as the +dog man, whom Peter had knocked out the night before. His gaze was a +wanton challenge for the young man to stop, and Varney cheerfully +accepted it. + +"Why, it's--Mr.--er--Hackley, isn't it?" + +The man's bandage left only one eye free to operate, and he kept this +upon Varney with a curious unwinking stare. + +"Yes," said he slowly, "I'm Hackley." + +"How'd the dog come out?" asked Varney. + +"Dead," said Hackley, as quiet in mien as the Hackley of last night was +bellicose. "Dead _an'_ buried." + +"I'm sorry," said Varney, his glance on the head-cloth. "The man who did +the kicking was a friend of mine, and he wouldn't want you to lose your +dog without some compensation. Er--please accept this with his +compliments and regrets." + +Hackley, his single washed-out eye starting with pleasure, accepted the +proffered note with a gesture resembling a clutch, investigated its size +in the dim light with hardly concealed delight, and pinned it into his +waistcoat pocket with a large brass safety-pin. Then he raised his head +slowly and looked at Varney. + +"Why n't you leave town to-night, Stanhope?" he inquired casually. + +Varney started. Almost to the very language this was exactly what Editor +Smith had suggested to him the night before. + +"Why do you call me Stanhope, Hackley? My name happens to be Laurence +Varney." + +Mr. Hackley's gaze never relaxed. "Chuck it," he said without emotion. +"A sensible and eddicated man," he added impersonally, "never lies when +a lie couldn't do him no good. If I was you, Stanhope, I wouldn't lose a +minute in cuttin' loose from this town." + +"If I were Stanhope, I daresay I wouldn't either. But suppose I were," +he added, "why shouldn't I stay here if I wanted to?" + +"For one reason," said Mr. Hackley deliberately, "there's me. When I'm +a-feelin' myself, there ain't a cammer, a more genteel nor lor-abidin' +citizen in Hunston. As for fussin' and fightin', I'd no more think of it +than a dyin' inverlid in the orspitle. But only throw a few drinks under +my belt like last night, and I'm a altogether different creetur. And I'm +mighty afraid that the next time I over-drink myself and don't rightly +know what I'm doin', I'll go out after you with a club. And then +there'll be trouble." + +"But why should you want to go after Stanhope with a club? What did he +ever do to you?" + +"Don't you know? I married Mamie Orrick's little sister!" + +"Most interesting," said Varney, "as a bit of genealogy, but what's it +got to do with Stanhope and the club?" + +But Mr. Hackley said again, cryptically: "Chuck it." Then, softened by +the young man's pleasant ways, and by the windfall of a fortune pinned +into his vest: "Be sensible, Stanhope," he added amiably. "I ain't the +only one. Old Orrick's heard that you've hit the town and is totin' a +gun and talk-in' wild. And, of course, there's others. Don't jump off no +tall buildin's, I say, expectin' Providence to land you soft. There's a +train to Noo York at eight-ten. Cut while you can!" + +"Why, thanks," said Varney, laughing and starting on. "If I should see +Mr. Stanhope at any time, I won't fail to pass him the friendly tip." + +"And if you should see that friend o' yourn," called Hackley after him, +"him that gimme the paste in the jor--you c'n just tell him that Jim +Hackley is goin' to fix you both, _good!_" + +"At your convenience, Hackley." + +The young man passed on, undisturbed by the dog man's quaint menaces. He +did not exactly see himself and Peter getting into trouble at the hands +of a crack-brained village humorist. + +Streams of people, converging from all directions, guided him easily to +the theatre. Pushing his way in, he found the stage empty and the +proceedings not yet begun; and he stood for a minute at the inner door, +glancing over the house. It was crowded. Oratory is a real inducement in +societies seldom blessed with that attraction. Even lemonade is a magnet +if you get it seldom and never to surfeit. Already men were sitting in +the long low windows which ran down either side of the building; and a +score of ushers, singularly alert-looking men, were hurriedly +distributing camp-chairs to accommodate the overflow. Certainly, Peter +could have desired no better setting for his daring adventure for +reform. + +Thanks to the reserved seat which his friend's reluctant liberality had +furnished him, Varney was in no hurry to join the throng inside. +Presently, to get clear of the rush at the doors, he strolled into the +lobby and idly stood at one side, watching the people streaming by. + +Thus, by sheer luck, he became witness to the crucial episode of the +evening. An oily Teutonic voice spoke just at his elbow: + +"Id's eight o'clock, I zee. We'd better go back und gif Taylor his +speech, I guess." + +The young man turned. He happened to be standing just in front of the +little cubby of a box-office. In it stood two men, one large and fat and +blonde, the other short and stocky and dark. This latter, looking up +from a typewritten manuscript, spoke briefly: + +"No hurry. Find Smith if you can and send him here." + +The fat oily person departed obediently. Immediately there stepped +through the door of the box-office a rough-looking man in a slouch hat, +with three days' stubble stippling a grimy chin. He shut the door +carefully and came near. Varney, from where he stood, could see and hear +everything. + +"Mr. Ryan?" + +The stocky, dark man nodded. _Aha!_ thought Varney. + +"Then step outside a minute, will yer? There's a genaman wants to speak +to you right away on a matter as concerns you close." + +Ryan coldly looked the man over: "Then tell him to come in here. No! I +ain't got no time to fool with him now. Tell him to go to the devil." + +The stranger never moved a muscle. "There's a reason w'y he can't come +in here--you'll see when you come outside, all right." Then bringing his +dark face sharply a foot nearer, he went on in a hasty undertone: "Hey, +you! Ever hear of a man named Maginnis?" + +Ryan had: Peter's fame had traveled far in Hunston that day. + +"Well, listen! There's a game on to bust this meetin' to-night and put +the hook into you good and hard. Maginnis has spent a thousand to do it. +D'yer savvy? Now will yer step lively?" + +The boss considered a moment and then stepped lively. Varney, falling in +behind, stepped lively too, his curiosity strongly stirred. But outside, +before the theatre, there was no sign of a gentleman awaiting an +audience: only the people pouring on into the Academy. + +"Around the corner," whispered the dark man hoarsely. "He dassen't wait +here. Quick!" + +Around the corner the pair hurried, Varney close in their wake. In the +silent alley, half-hidden in the shadows of the building, stood a large +carriage with a pair of strapping bays tugging at their traces. They +halted before it, and the stranger, who had considerately taken Ryan's +arm, flung open the door. + +"Here he is, Jim--Mr. Ryan. Now you c'n tell him--" + +The sentence died unended. At the same moment the sound of a violent +scuffle smote the nocturnal air. It appeared that Jim, presumably +laboring under an unfortunate misapprehension, had not received his +visitor with that refined hospitality due from one gentleman to another. +Even more inexplicable, it looked in the deceitful darkness, remarkably +as though the boss's guide, suddenly dropping that gentleman's arm, had +laid forcible hold upon his outraged and madly protesting legs. + +It was all over in a minute. There was a faint yell, quickly and +violently muffled. Then the carriage door banged, leaving nobody on the +sidewalk, and the horses, responding to an acutely painful lash from the +strong arm on the box, sprang forward at the gallop. + +Varney stood in the dark alley, looking after the vanishing carriage +with mingled admiration and amazement. Swift footsteps sounded near him; +and the next moment a strong hand seized him and pulled him back into +the shadow of the wall. + +"_Sh-h! It's me_! Anybody see it?" + +"_Hello!_ Not a soul but me." + +Peter leaned against the wall and drew a deep breath. + +"He can never prove it on me--not to save his soul!--_and I hold his +meeting in the hollow of my hand_. Do you see that lighted window at +the back there? That's my last bridge. Waiting in there are the chairman +of the meeting and the mayor, who's the orator of the evening. I'm going +in and make 'em take me on as one of the platform speakers. I'll pass +out a few remarks and call on Hare--" + +"But how will you make them--" + +"They daren't refuse me anything," said Peter swiftly, and tapped his +breast-pocket. "I've papers here that mean stripes for them both. Mind +your eye, Larry, and be good!" + +He disappeared through the little gate toward the dressing-room, where +the officials of the meeting waited vainly for last instructions from +their lord. Varney looked after him with a sigh. In Hunston only +twenty-four hours and already to be running the town! + +He emerged from the alley feeling rather gloomy, and halted on the +sidewalk in front of the theatre, idly watching the people as they +poured in. The spectacle of this steady stream made a fitting background +for his meditations; for he was thinking, absently, of the extreme +boldness of Peter's course. Certainly, there was little here to suggest +the quiet onlooker. But all at once something happened which checked the +current of his thought as effectually as a slap upon the cheek. + +In that shifting, waste of strange faces, his vagrant eye suddenly fell +upon a familiar one--two, three familiar ones--and his flagging interest +sprang to life. There approached, side by side, J. Pinkney Hare, who, +though few knew it, might prove the brilliant hero of the night's +proceedings; the child, little Jenny Something, who had spent yesterday +at the Carstairs house, leading strangers to think that she was somebody +else; and Miss Carstairs herself, a fair flower in that moving tangle of +weeds. + +Hare saw Varney and bowed in his stiff affected way. But Varney's eyes +had already gone on to Miss Carstairs, and he did not return that +greeting. Seeing the little candidate lift his hat, her look followed +his, and so her eye met Varney's. + +When this happened her expression did not change, except that, so he +thought, she faintly colored. Varney awaited her bow; he half bowed +himself: a stiff smile was ready on his lips. But he never gave it. Her +eyes rested full upon him for a second, with no sign of recognition, and +then moved away; and the next moment she swept past him into the +theatre. + +There was no shadow of doubt about it. She who only last night had +treated him with such marked kindness, had unmistakably cut him. It +hardly seemed possible. Why, they had parted like friends! + +But he understood instantly what had happened. To her, he was Ferris +Stanhope; he himself had given her the right to think that. Since they +had parted, some of that unpleasant gossip about Stanhope--of which she +had known nothing last night--had made its way to her; and she had +believed it as to him, Laurence Varney. Yes, she had believed it as to +him. Peter was right, after all. A self-respecting girl owed it to +herself, it seemed, not to recognize him. Curiously, so strong was his +sense of the personal meaning of the insult that its more practical +aspects for the moment altogether escaped him. + +But that was only for the moment. In the next breath, it rushed over him +that with that cool glance the luncheon engagement upon which his whole +mission depended stood canceled; and with that thought he felt his will +hardening into iron. What she thought of him, personally, was of course +nothing; but no power should keep him from carrying through his plans +precisely as he had arranged them. He elbowed his way into the lobby to +find Uncle Elbert's daughter and make her retract that look. + +But it gradually became evident that Uncle Elbert's daughter was not in +the lobby: the most systematic exploration failed to reveal any trace of +her. In fact, it was certain that she had passed straight on to her seat +within the hall; whence a loud roar presently gave warning to stragglers +that the oratory had begun. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later Varney rose from his seat, at once marveling over the +splendor of Peter's _coup_ and bewildered by the blaze of publicity +which it had turned upon his comrade and co-schemer. The well-laid plans +had carried through to brilliant success, and Ryan's meeting had been +converted into a triumph for Ryan's deadly enemy, J. Pinkney Hare. + +The candidate had sat unobtrusively down in the audience with his friend +Miss Carstairs and the child Jenny,--spectators all: that was the way +they had arranged it. Peter, on the contrary, sat in the great white +light of a front seat on the stage, where he had masterfully intruded +himself in the galaxy of "other prominent citizens." And sure enough, +when the set speeches were over, it was the honorable chairman who +presented "a Mr. Maginnis of New York" to the meeting, doubtless having +been satisfactorily convinced beforehand that it was to his advantage to +do so. But, doubtless also convinced that there would be an accounting +to his master for this night's work, he rose to his duty only after Mr. +Maginnis had glared at him through a noticeable stage-wait, and then +made the introduction as prejudicial as he dared. + +Mr. Maginnis did not appear disconcerted in the least. He began +speaking with a pertinence and ease which rather surprised his friend +Varney down in the audience, and with words which instantly let the +dullest know that something unusual was taking place. However, he had +not proceeded far when, the house having become very still, he was +suddenly interrupted by a sharp hiss from the rear of the hall, and a +raucous voice which shouted: + +"Sit down, you! Nobody wants yer!" + +Laughter followed and various murmurs, some approving, a few protesting. +Ryan's good and faithful servants were evidently settling down to work. + +Peter's eye roved over the audience, seemed to catch something and lit +up with a faint signal. + +"The gentleman who made that remark," he said in tones of great +gentleness, "will kindly leave the hall at once." + +A ripple of merriment ran through the crowd, breaking in many places +into ostentatious guffaws. To those who knew the underside of those +meetings, the mild request appeared so ineffectual as to be merely +ridiculous. The honorable chairman, on the stage, hid a sinister smile +behind his hand. + +Then a strange thing happened. Four "ushers" moved silently down the +side-aisle, halted at the end of the sixth row from the rear, laid hands +upon an angry and wriggling little man who screamed to high heaven that +he hadn't done nothing, and dropped him out of the open window, which +was just five feet above the ground. + +It was rather a clean-cut piece of work, the moral effect of which was +in no wise weakened by the strong probability that they had ejected the +wrong man. It proved the turning-point in the evening's proceedings. +Ryanism seemed paralyzed by the mysterious absence of its chief, and a +few further essays by the faithful, more and more half-hearted in their +nature, made it plain that the control of that meeting had passed into +other hands. Peter, apologizing for the little interruption, told simply +but vividly how, coming to Hunston a stranger, he had instantly seen +that something was badly wrong with the town: how he had looked about at +the dirty streets, the dead business, the empty stores, the good men +idling, the good wives suffering for the money that streamed into the +big red saloon-- + +"That's right!" called a shrill, scared woman's voice. "That's right, +Mister!" + +"No!" Peter answered steadily. "It's the _wrongest_ thing that ever +was--God help you poor women!" + +Then a burst of hand-clapping, unforced by the faithful hirelings from +New York, ran unexpectedly through the house. + +Peter told how easy it had been to find out what was choking the life +out of Hunston. His open countenance, democratic manners, and pungent +speech produced a most favorable impression, and it was undeniable that, +for the moment at least, he had the house with him when he swung into +his peroration. + +"You know we are told," he said, "that it is the truth that makes us +free. Well, you are going to hear the truth to-night, at last. There is +a man listening to me at this moment who knows everything there is to be +known. Like me, he has no axe to grind, no special interest to promote, +no ambition but the manly wish to loose this town from the bonds with +which a dishonest boss has shackled it. He has sacrificed much to the +hope that he might help you, and for months he has been fighting against +big odds, just to get a chance to tell you the facts. To-night he has +got his chance, and you may be very sure that he will make the most of +it. + +"Relieving your honorable chairman of the trouble of rising for the +purpose, I take pleasure in introducing to you Mr. J. Pinkney Hare, who +is, with your consent, the next mayor of Hunston." + +Back in the center of the house, a foot scraped upon the floor, and +there was J. Pinkney Hare standing out in the aisle, his little black +bag stuffed with documents swinging in his hand. And then there arose, +to the surprise of everybody (barring those good fellows who had been +well paid for their work and were earnestly determined to earn it) a +deafening roar of applause, starting in the rear of the house, taken up +at certain definite points all through it, and gradually spreading +almost everywhere, many people joining in because they liked Peter +greatly and others without having any idea why. The roar subsided a +little as Hare drew near to the stage, mounted it, and deposited his +little bag upon the table. Then it broke again, more loudly, as he came +forward a step, looking out upon the crowded house--he who could not +hire a hall for himself--a little pale, a little awed by the bigness of +his chance, but with neither tremor nor uncertainty on his small, cool +face.... + +Hare spoke for an hour and a half, and not a soul left the hall. It was +impossible to call him off or cry him down: the plain sentiment of the +house was, "Give the little man his show." Afterwards, Chairman Bates +had made a desperate effort to overcome the damning effect of that +address, calling on various Ryanites of aggressive manners, and making a +second speech himself, but with little avail. Even the free fight which +broke out during the distribution of the ice-cream of the Neapolitans +(the announcement of which addition to the regular _menu_ evoked the +loudest spontaneous applause of the evening) resulted, until the police +checked it, decidedly in favor of the strangers from New York. + +This part of the evening's pleasures Varney did not see. He rose with +many others when the published tidings of refreshment gave notice that +the speechmaking was over, and turned his face toward the door against a +stream of ushers entering with alluring trays. Already all sense of the +daring brilliance of Peter's stroke had faded and dropped from his mind. +His own concerns crowded instantly upon his attention, and all his +thought was of finding Mary Carstairs immediately and compelling her to +recognize him for the man he was. + +She, too, had risen to leave the hall. While he listened to the fierce +philippic of J. Pinkney Hare, Varney's eye had carefully marked her +seat: it was empty now. Once, as he pushed his way slowly toward the +door, he caught a brief glimpse of her over in the other aisle, some +distance ahead of him; but he hardly saw her before she was lost to him +again, swallowed up in the jostling throng. The theatre was in an +uproar: all was noise and bustle and movement. And the wide lobby, when +at length he reached it, was no better; it looked scarcely more +promising to his quest than the traditional haystack to the searcher of +needles. + +Here were set the ice-cream freezers and the other paraphernalia of +delight, and about them was a struggling mob. Varney circled the throng +with a roving eye. Of the lady he saw no sign anywhere. But presently, +on the outer fringe of the cohorts which stormed the freezers, he came +upon the child Jenny, and knew that he had found a guide according to +his heart's desire. + +He touched her on the elbow. "Do you want to get some ice-cream?" + +She turned her homely little face up towards him, and said shyly: + +"Yes, sir. But they won't let me get near. And they say the chocolate is +going fast." + +"They'll let me get near," said Varney heartily. "Chocolate is it, then? +Lemonade, of course. And a thought of the cake with icing, shall we say? +Good! But you're not here alone, are you?" + +"No, sir. I'm here with Miss Mary--over there in that corner." + +"Well, you just run over there with her and wait. Trust everything here +to me." + +He emerged from the ruck a few moments later, disheveled but triumphant. +Hat under his arm and both hands heavily laden, he made a gingerly +progress to the place of his tryst, a comparatively unpopulated corner +near the door. And there she stood, her comely youth brought into sharp +relief by her surroundings, side by side with the living hunger and +thirst of Jenny, whose yearning eyes summoned the young man like a +beacon. + +Miss Carstairs happened to be looking in another direction. Varney, +standing before her, calmly took up their acquaintance where he had left +it last night at her mother's gate. + +"Good evening, Miss Carstairs. I bear refreshment for your little +friend. What a magnificent evening for Hare and Reform, isn't it?" + +She turned, startled at the sound of his voice, looked at him, and +looked at once away. + +"Oh ... yes, indeed. I--am waiting for Mr. Hare now. Jenny, are you sure +you haven't seen him come out?" + +"Yessum," said Jenny, her eyes all for the tall stranger. + +Unable to resist their imploring appeal, he turned at once and delivered +his burden. + +"Ice-cream--lemonade--" he made inventory--"cake with icing--tin +spoon--paper napkin in my pocket. Is there anything else?" + +"I think," said Jenny, conscientiously, "there's figs." + +"You do not wish any figs to-night, Jenny," declared Miss Carstairs, +rather more severely than mere figs seemed to warrant. + +"_No'm!_ I thought maybe he might want some." + +"I doubt if I'll take any figs to-night, either," laughed Varney. "But +mayn't I get something for you, Miss Carstairs? I'm happy to say that +the chocolate is holding out better than we feared." + +"Thank you," she said, apparently addressing the child, "I don't believe +I wish anything." + +Jenny here produced and handed around a small, rather dangerous-looking +paper-bag, which proved, upon investigation, to contain marshmallows. +Miss Carstairs declined. Varney, to show how unimpeachable he considered +his standing with the party, gratefully accepted. + +"I'm afraid," he said, looking at Miss Carstairs, "that Mr. Hare's +admirers are likely to detain him some time. If you don't care to wait +so long, perhaps you would again give me the pleasure of supplanting him +and taking you home--you and Miss--Miss Jenny?" + +"No, thank you--I am sure he will be out soon ... You look awfully +trampled on and--mashed, Jenny," she continued, twitching the child's +hat on straight. "And _my dear! Don't_ eat so fast." + +Despite himself, Varney felt his blood rising a little. "Miss +Carstairs," he said slowly, "I must tell you that I came with Miss Jenny +on purpose to see you. There is something that I wanted to say." + +She raised her eyes then, and though their look was very young and +embarrassed, he felt himself lose something of his composure under it. + +"You wanted to say something--to me?" + +"A good deal. I have an explanation to make--" + +"I'm afraid that I have not time to--listen--Mr. Hare--" + +"You must listen--to be fair," he said slowly. "I have to blame myself +for it, but you are doing me an injustice at this moment. I am not--that +man." + +She made no answer. Beside them, Miss Jenny ate ice-cream succulently. +All around them were people jostling this way and that, laughing, +shouting: but they might have been alone on a mountain-top for all +either was aware of them. + +"Since I have been in Hunston--just a day," Varney said easily, "I seem +to have done nothing but explain over and over that I am not Mr. +Stanhope. I got awfully tired of it, Miss Carstairs; it seemed so +horribly useless. Like the others, you insisted that I was he. You +candidly didn't believe me--" + +"No," she said, "that is true." + +"I shall make you believe me now," said Varney. + +A great hullabaloo suddenly arose around them. Four or five men broke +pellmell, and for the most part backwards, out of the swing-doors, +evidently ejected from within. A lonely-looking policeman, on guard at +the entrance, charged them. The lobby was already thronged; now people +retreating before that violent infusion of arms and legs crowded them +close. + +Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the +press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall +upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her, +turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room. + +"Ah!... A haven, Miss Carstairs." + +She stepped backward, into the tiny box-office where Ryan had stood two +hours before and cynically waited for his sport to begin. It was empty +now, offering a perfect refuge. Varney followed and stood with his hand +on the knob just inside the door. + +"Thank you," said Miss Carstairs, breathing a little rapidly. "The +meetings have never been as bad as this before. But--I must not lose +sight of Jenny." + +"I'm here, Miss Mary," gurgled an ice-creamy voice at the door. + +"I think I had better wait outside after all," said Mary. "Mr. Hare will +hardly know where to look for me." + +"Miss Jenny will be his clew: he couldn't miss her," said Varney. "Let +me go on, while I have time. Miss Carstairs, it is not fair to either of +us to let matters stay like this. In the cottage last night, you forced +me to let you think I was--another man--" + +"That is absurd," she said. "How could I possibly force you to say what +was not--the fact?" + +"Did I really say anything that was not--the fact? I tried particularly +not to. But I did let you deceive yourself about it: that is quite true +and I'm sorry. I did it because--well, because if I hadn't done it, you +were not going to let me walk home with you." + +She leaned against the little desk at which the Academy man sat to sell +tickets, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly. "Then why," she asked, +"should you wish to _undeceive_ me now?" + +"You know why," he answered. "If I don't, something tells me that you +are not going to speak to me any more." + +Her silence conceded the truth of this. It began to be evident how +difficult he had made matters for himself. + +Varney laughed. "I am determined to make you believe me, yet just how am +I to go about it? It's rather an absurd position, when you come to think +of it--this arguing with somebody as to who one is. Suppose I were that +fellow, Miss Carstairs. How could I possibly hope to come back to my old +hometown and persuade people to believe that I am somebody else?" + +Her eyes had wandered out through the little grated window, and she made +no reply. + +"You see how preposterous that would be. A mere resemblance is not +enough to condemn a man upon, Miss Carstairs." + +She turned her head with a sudden gesture of annoyance. "What difference +can it possibly make whether I speak to you or not, Mr. St--" + +"_Don't!_" he interrupted swiftly. "You know my name. You shall not call +me by that one." + +Hare's neat pink face appeared at the ticket-window, for all the world +like a belated theatre-goer, anxious for several in the orchestra. + +"Ah, Mary! There you are! Whenever you are ready--" + +"I have been waiting for you a long time," said Miss Carstairs. "It was +so splendid, Mr. Hare! Is Jenny there? We'll go at once." + +She turned to Varney, cool as a dewy rose, and came forward a short +step. "I--I must say this before I go: has no one told you that you are +in danger here?" + +Under her tone and her look, his plan of being the easy master of the +situation grew increasingly difficult. "Everybody has told me," he said +rather shortly. "It's gotten to be a bore." + +"Then--won't you--won't you please go away before--anything happens?" + +"I am going on Thursday afternoon," he answered, stung by her beauty, +which was so remote, and by the sudden compassion in her voice. "My +engagements will keep me here till that day, you remember? I promise +you, since you are so good as to interest yourself in the matter, that I +shall leave Hunston directly after that--" + +"Your engagements on Thursday?" she repeated, looking away. "Are--you +speaking of--" + +"The luncheon on my yacht. We are inviting Mr. Hare and his sister to +meet you." + +"I am sorry," began Miss Carstairs, not looking at him, "but--I--I find +that I shall n--" + +"Er--Mary?" said the candidate's voice through the window. + +She turned toward the door at once, as though welcoming a summons which +so opportunely relieved her from embarrassing explanations: but Varney, +who happened to have duties to her father to discharge, stood before +her, not moving. + +"Just now in the theatre," he said pleasantly, "you cut me. That was for +him. I understood. But is there any valid reason why you should not stay +on speaking terms with--Laurence Varney?" + +To his surprise, a vivid red swept up her face from throat to hair and +her eyes fluttered and fell. + +"Please," she said, "don't ask me to discuss this any more." + +Varney stood aside, bowing, to let her pass out. + +"I shall bring you proofs of my identity to-morrow, since that seems +necessary," he said with a laugh. "You won't refuse to see me, if you +care anything about being fair. But shall I tell you something, Miss +Carstairs? In your heart _you believe me now_!" + +At the outer door, Varney all but collided with a man listlessly +entering, and, glancing up, saw that it was the pale young editor, +Coligny Smith. + +"I hope you enjoyed the meeting," flung out Varney in passing. + +"Why, greetings--greetings!" said Mr. Smith, a mocking smile on his thin +lips. "I've just been out to buy your picture, Beany." + +With which singular rejoinder, he slipped by into the lobby. + + * * * * * + +J. Pinkney Hare lingered some time in the theatre after Miss Carstairs +joined him, enveloped in a heartening whirl of new popularity. To the +candidate it seemed that his star had changed with stunning swiftness. +His advance to the door had been a Roman progress; and when he finally +reached the lobby he was still the focus of a coterie of enthusiasts who +would not be shaken off. Here a new halt was made: new people surrounded +him; more hand-shakings and back-slappings took place; and everything +seemed merry as a marriage-bell. + +But Peter, coming out of the hall a moment after Varney had left, saw +hovering about this intimate circle an elderly man of a faded exterior +and shabby clothes, who wore a black felt hat pulled down over +wary-looking eyes. Even at that moment of splendid triumph, Peter was +annoyed to recognize in him the man Higginson, of whose too friendly +interest in the candidate's doings he had complained to Varney a few +hours earlier. Whether he was, in truth, the man who had followed them +on the street the night before, he was not ready to make affidavit. But +undoubtedly there was something furtive in the man's appearance and +manner; and Peter, watching him from the door, was highly irritated to +see Hare present the fellow to Miss Carstairs, who smiled on him as upon +one of her friend's good friends. + +"The sneak!" thought Peter. "I'll just drop him a quiet hint to butt out +before he gets hurt." + +But his "head-usher" due to vanish back to New York by the +ten-forty-five claimed him just then for a business talk, and when Peter +had time to think of Mr. Higginson again, he found that the man had +disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +THE EDITOR OF THE GAZETTE PLAYS A CARD FROM HIS SLEEVE + +Varney slept badly. The night was long, like art and the lanes that have +no turning; and interludes punctuated it, now and again, when he lay +wide-eyed in his bunk, staring into the darkness. At these times without +exception, he thought how, early in the morning, he would climb the hill +to the white house, blandly proffering letters to show that he was no +cad, no cur, but Laurence Varney, whom ladies need not flee from as from +the plague; suavely putting Uncle Elbert's daughter so utterly in the +wrong that he himself would grow merciful towards her abashment, and +sorry. + +He fell asleep, woke again, rehearsed once more what he would say to +her. At last he saw the dawn break along the horizon and the gray of a +new day meet and mingle with the receding darkness. It was Wednesday. +To-morrow would be Thursday, and he could go away, his business done. +The prospect was rich recompense for everything. It came to him, +suddenly and for the first time, that he hated his mission in Hunston +with a disheartening and sickening hatred. And formulating this thought, +polishing it to aphorism and sharpening it to epigram, he slumbered and +slept for the last time that night. + +But on the heels of the morning came Peter, bursting in half-dressed, a +newspaper flaunting in his hand, an unfastened suspender flapping behind +him like a pennant on a clubhouse. + +"Oh, you're awake, are you?" said he, looking very keen and wide-awake +himself. "Good! You'd hardly want to be dead to the world while this +kind of thing is going on." + +Varney, on an elbow, sleepily surprised at this vehemence, said: "What's +up?" + +"The jig!" cried Peter succinctly. "At least it looks that way. It's +that rascal Smith." + +He sat down on the edge of Varney's bunk, the folded newspaper in his +hand, and continued: "I ran out before I was dressed to look at this +contemptible _Gazette_, because I wanted to see how they handled the +meeting last night. But the minute I picked it up, I saw this, +and--well, by George! Look at it!" + +He whipped open the _Gazette_ with a movement which all but shredded it +and thrust it into Varney's hand. Varney sat up in bed and smoothed it +out upon the coverlet. + +Coligny Smith was clever and his eye ranged wide. He saw all the chances +that there were, and what he saw he made the most of. For his front-page +"picture feature" that morning, he had selected a two-column half-tone +of a good-looking, though not altogether pleasant-faced young man; and +beneath it had indited in bold capitals which the most casual eye could +not miss: "Mr. Ferris Stanhope, Author and Former Hunstonian, Who Has +Just Arrived in Town." + +"I see," said Varney, slowly. "Meaning me." Beside the portrait ran a +"story," which said in part: + + "It leaked out yesterday that the 'mysterious stranger' + who suddenly appeared off Hunston in an elegant + private yacht on Monday night, is none other than Ferris + Stanhope, well-known author of novels of the pink-tea + type.... + + "Mr. Stanhope is a native of Hunston, and is well + remembered here. As the result of certain escapades + which need not be detailed in a home paper like the + _Gazette_, he left town, somewhat hurriedly, one night + twelve years ago. Until Monday he has never been back + since. The news of his arrival has not been received + with general expressions of pleasure. Predictions were + freely made about the streets yesterday that if certain + old and respected citizens of Hunston should chance to + meet the author, trouble is sure to arise. + + "Why Mr. Stanhope should have elected to come back + to Hunston has not yet been ascertained. Some say that + it is the result of a bet, friends having wagered that he + would not venture to return for a month's stay here. + These declare that he is using the yacht as base of operations + to reconnoiter and determine whether it is safe to + land. Color is lent to this theory by the pains which the + distinguished author is taking to conceal his identity. + The name of the yacht has been carefully erased, and he + is using, it is said, an assumed name. + + "The secret of Mr. Stanhope's identity came out too + late last night for the _Gazette_ to obtain an interview. + With him on the yacht is a 'Mr. Maginnis,' representing + himself as a wealthy New Yorker and a 'student of + government.' Both gentlemen, it is said, are claimed as + allies by Hunston's new 'Reform party.'" + +Peter broke out the moment Varney laid down the paper, but Varney, +staring absently out of the porthole, did not listen. This, then, was +the meaning of the pale young editor's enigmatical remark last night. +Here was no idle malice. Diabolically resourceful and without shame, +young Mr. Smith had circulated this lie to discredit reform and drive +off its new champion. And this was the way that he, Varney, had kept the +coming of the _Cypriani_ quiet in Hunston! + +"And think of the cursed bull luck of it!" cried Peter. "The most the +rascal hoped to do was to ruin my plans for helping Hare by these dirty +hints about both of us--at the best to scare us away from Hunston. He +never dreamed that he was knocking the bottom out of any private plans +of _yours_!" + +Varney stretched and yawned. "Well, he isn't." + +"Doubtless I am a stupid ass and all that," said Peter, staring, "but +with the _Gazette_ publishing it about the countryside that you are a +yellow dog of the worst nature, I don't grasp how you expect Miss +Carstairs to come on this yacht and lunch with you." + +A knock sounded on the stateroom door, and McTosh entered, announcing +two telegrams for Mr. Varney. + +Varney, wondering a little who had known his whereabouts, took the +yellow envelopes, nodded to the steward not to wait, broke them open, +read the typewritten words within, read them again. + +Then he looked up and found Peter gazing at him more or less +expectantly. + +Varney laughed. "Do you remember that night at the club my saying to +you, as a great inducement: 'Suppose the New York papers get on to +this'?" + +Peter nodded. + +Varney handed him the yellow slips; then he arose and pushed the service +button. + +"McTosh," he said, "send to town at once and get me copies of the _Sun_, +the _Times_, the _Daily_ and the _Herald_--all the New York papers. No, +go yourself, and don't stay longer than is absolutely necessary." + +Peter, meantime, with a heart beating as it had not beat the night +before when he had overthrown Ryan and stolen his meeting, was reading +the following: + + _Daily_ story has got us all guessing. If it's really + you, what the devil are you up to, anyway? + R. E. TOWNES. + +The other was in a similar vein: + + Alarming story in _Daily_ to-day. Absolute secrecy a + prerequisite as explained. Reporters tried to reach me + to-night. Trust you fully, but implore you to proceed + with utmost caution. + ELBERT CARSTAIRS. + +"The plot thickens," said Peter when Varney turned back, "till I, for +one, can't see the drift. However--you've sent for the _Daily_?" + +Varney nodded. "I told him to get three or four others, too, for a +blind." + +"Politics," said Peter, in his calmest fighting manner, "is all off. I'm +not the least interested in it. We'll give the morning to studying +yellow journalism. But about Miss Carstairs. How can you possibly--" + +"By heaven," said Varney, with a sudden burst of anger, "I'll make her +know who I am, if I have to drag in her own mother to introduce me." + +He went off to his bath, dressed hurriedly, dawdled a moment at the +breakfast-table, where he found Peter discussing a cereal not without a +certain solemn pleasure, and went above grappling with the thought that +all this would mean a postponement of his call at the Carstairs house, +and maybe something more serious still. The morning was sunny and crisp. +He walked to the bow, briskly, by way of a constitutional, turned and +started down again. As he did this, his eye fell upon a strange figure +which had at first escaped him. Toward the stern of the _Cypriani_, near +the wheel, a little runt of a boy hung over the rail, and made the air +noxious with the relicts of a low-born cigar. He was an aged, cynical +boy, with a phlegmatic mien and a face of the complexion and general +appearance of a hickory-nut. + +A little surprised by the sudden apparition, Varney came down the deck +and dropped into a chair near him. + +"Well, my lad! I'm happy to see you and your cigar again. But to what do +we owe the pleasure of this call from you two old friends?" + +The boy turned his back to the rail and faced him impassively. In the +brilliant sunshine, he looked singularly worn and wise. + +"I brung dem wires," he said courageously plying the cigar. "Any +answer?" + +"I'll see, after a while," said Varney, hastily lighting a pipe as +counter-irritant. "So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" + +"Nawser. Odjobbin' I do. Anythink as comes handy. They don't deliver no +wires down here. I handles 'em sometimes for wut dere is in it." + +"Oh! Well, I won't fail to see that there is something in it for you +this time. And do you make much money odd-jobbing?" + +"I git along awright. Summertimes I do. Wintertimes there ain't no +odjobbin' much." + +"How old are you, my boy?" + +"Twelve year old." + +"Twelve! I thought you were sixteen, at least." + +A faint look of gratification crossed the boy's face, but he only said +stoically: "Twelve year's my age." + +"What do you do in the wintertime when there isn't much odd-jobbing? How +do you get along then?" + +"I git along awright. Sometimes I git help. Off a lady here, a frien' o' +mine." + +"What lady? What's her name?" + +"Name o' Miss Mary. Miss Carstair, some calls her. I git money and clo's +off her. I'd 'a' had some bum winters, hadn't ben for her." + +There was a pause, and then Varney said: "What's your name, my boy?" + +Again the boy hesitated. "Tommy," he said presently. + +"Tommy what?" + +"Tommy--Orrick." + +Varney started. Of all the sordid Hunston of the natives, that was the +one name which meant anything to him. It was rather a curious +coincidence. + +"Then I suppose old Sam Orrick," he said kindly, "is your father's +father." + +"Nawser," he answered slowly. And he added presently, "He wuz me +mudder's father." + +After that, the silence lengthened. Varney looked off down the river. +Tommy Orrick, whose father was named something else, clapped his hand +suddenly to his lip, because his cigar just then scorched it unbearably. + +"What is your father's name, Tommy?" asked Varney, in a low voice. + +His back toward Varney, his fragment of a cigar poised, reluctantly +ready to drop, the boy shook his head. "I don't rightly know," he said +in his husky little voice. + +But Varney knew that name: and he said it now slowly over to himself in +a dull and futile anger. + +From the shore a boat put out hurriedly and the faithful steward came +flying over the water with meritorious speed. With him he was bringing +the papers that might settle the _Cypriani's_ mission, but Varney, for +the moment, hardly gave him a thought. His own affairs were blotted from +his mind just then by the tragedy of the little waif before him, +luckless victim of another's sin, small flotsam which barely weathered +the winters when odd-jobbing was scarce, and only one lady cared. + +"Where do you live, Tommy?" + +"Kerrigan's loft mostly--w'en Kerrigan ain't dere." + +"This morning," said Varney rapidly, "I'm just as busy as a bee. But +this afternoon, or to-morrow morning anyway, I want to come down to +Kerrigan's and call on you." + +"Wut about?" the boy demanded with an instant suspiciousness which was +rather pathetic. + +"About you, Tommy. I have got a little plan in my head, and there isn't +any time to talk about it now. What would you say to having a home with +some nice people I know in another city--in New York?" + +A sudden dumbness seized Tommy. His head slowly lowered and he did not +answer. Around the deck-house from the port-side hurried McTosh, his arm +embracing a bundle of papers, his brow beady with the honest toil of +speed wrung out of country paths. + +"Ah, steward! You made good time. Ask Mr. Maginnis if he won't come on +deck when he is at leisure. Thomas, you're for the shore, aren't you? +Forward, there!" + +He got up and stood by the side of grave little Tommy Orrick, who was +staring silently down at the white deck. + +"Down in New York, Tommy, I know a nice woman who has a home and no boys +at all to put in it. A long time ago she used to be the nurse of a boy I +knew, but he grew up; and now her husband's dead and she's all alone. +And here in Hunston is a boy with no home to put himself in. That's you, +Tommy, and I--but here's your boat. I'll come to see you to-morrow at +Kerrigan's--sure, and we'll talk it all over. Good-bye. And remember +that you and I are just the best friends going." + +He held out his hand, to shake, but Tommy, in an excess of stage-fright +at the unwonted ceremonial, nimbly turned his back; and the next instant +he slipped over the rail like an acrobat and dropped into the waiting +dinghy. Safely there, he glanced tentatively upward; but seeing that the +tall man above was still standing at the rail and was smiling down upon +him, looked tactfully away again. And Varney heard him say to the +oarsman in a snappy, impatient voice: "Pull for all you know, dere! I +got bizness dat won't keep." + +Varney sat down with the bundle of papers. Within the minute, Peter +appeared, replete but characteristically alert. + +"Read it yet?" + +"No, but I've found it. It wasn't hard." + +He handed Peter the paper, his thumb crooked to indicate the place, +which was superfluous; for near the middle of the front page, top of +column and in the strong type of captions, the words leaped out to +Peter's eye as though hand-illumined in many colors: + + FERRIS STANHOPE OR LAURENCE VARNEY + + Mystery Surrounding Young Man On Yacht Near Hunston. + + He Says He's Varney--Natives say He's Stanhope + and Trouble Feared--Yacht is Elbert Carstairs's, with + Her Name Painted Out--Mr. Varney's Movements + Unknown to Friends Here. + +Peter read the story aloud in a guarded undertone. In general, it +closely followed the story in the _Gazette_; so closely indeed as to +show at a glance that both productions came from one brain and pen. But +toward the end, the new story took a different turn. It said: + +"The above is a sample of the gossip which is agitating this usually +quiet little town. Late to-night there are two distinct factions. One +holds that the young 'stranger' is Ferris Stanhope, reconnoitring under +an _alias_. The other contends that he is really Laurence Varney, or +somebody else, up here on some secret mission. Unless the stranger +leaves town before, the facts will doubtless be brought out to-morrow. +The gossips promise that a sensation of no mean order is forthcoming." + +Below this, some one in the _Daily_ office had added: + +"A certain air of mystery surrounds Laurence Varney's recent movements. +At his bachelor apartments, in the Arvonia, it was learned last night +that Mr. Varney was out of the city, but the man-servant there had no +idea of his master's whereabouts. From other sources, however, it was +learned that Mr. Varney left New York several days ago on the +_Cypriani_, a handsome steam yacht belonging to Elbert Carstairs of No. +00 Fifth Avenue. An attempt was made to reach Mr. Carstairs at his home, +but the hour was late, and he could not be interviewed. A telegram sent +to Ferris Stanhope's last known address, Camp Skagway in the +Adirondacks, was unanswered up to the hour of going to press." + +Peter let the paper drop upon his knees, and whistled father +shamefacedly. Here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed, and it was all of +his brewing. If he had kept his fingers out of the affairs of Hunston, +as both his enemy and his friend had warned him to do, the unscrupulous +editor would have had no interest in attacking him, over his captain's +shoulders, and this damaging story would never have been concocted and +spread broadcast as a feast for gossips. He had been brought to Hunston +to help Varney--and here was the front-page result. + +If a similar thought flashed across Varney's mind in this disturbing +moment, he instantly forgot it for others more practical. He sat curled +up in a folding deck-chair, swiftly weighing what this new issue might +mean, and a moment of rather heavy silence ensued. + +The cat was all but out of the bag: this fatal hint at "some secret +mission" made that plain. A little carelessness, some more shrewd +probing into his affairs, and the jig would be up, indeed. This was the +one way that their enemies in Hunston could interfere with +him--insisting on knowing why he had come there; and Coligny Smith had +had the bull luck, as Peter put it, to stumble on it. + +Thus it fell out that he, Varney, who had needed to seek the dark and +unobtrusive ways, found himself thrust suddenly into the full glare of +the calcium. He who was guarding an errand which nobody should know +about was now to be asked by everybody who read newspapers just what +that errand was. + +It was so absurd that all at once he laughed aloud. However, it was +becoming quite serious, and he saw that, too. + +"Damn him!" broke out Peter, compactly, and he added presently: "Think +of his throwing a bomb in the air like that, and smoking out poor old +Carstairs!" + +Varney looked up, knocked out his pipe against his heel, and restored it +thoughtfully to his pocket. "Yes. Did you notice the difference between +those two stories? He doesn't want Hunston even to suspect that I may be +myself. His game here is to _know_ I'm Stanhope, whom the whole town is +sore on. In New York, he tries both stories, not knowing which will hurt +the most. However, theories will keep. The facts are plain. They've +started out to run us down--that's all. The point is now to decide what +we are going to do about it." + +He stood up, tall and cool, his jaw shut tightly, his brow puckered into +a long frown, thinking rapidly. + +"As I see it," he said slowly, "it works about like this. Probably the +_Gazette_ is the local news bureau for this town. At any rate, it is +evident that somebody on it is the correspondent of the _Daily_. The +_Gazette_, we know, wants to run you out of town in order to have a free +hand in slaughtering Hare. Last night they supposed that my looking like +Stanhope was the best card they had. This morning they will guess that +there may be a still better one lying around somewhere. The _Daily_ +tells them that I'm Varney, and, what is much more interesting, that I'm +using Elbert Carstairs's yacht. Mrs. Elbert Carstairs lives in Hunston. +Putting two and two together, and adding the painted-out name and a dash +of seeming furtiveness on my part, you have all the materials for a +nice, yellow mystery. I haven't the slightest doubt that when that +telegraph editor in New York gets down to his office about one o'clock +to-day, the very first thing he does, after hanging his coat on the +nail, is to wire his correspondent to begin operating on me." + +Peter nailed the alternative. "If he doesn't, the _Gazette_ will attend +to the job, anyway." + +"Yes, the press is on our trail, in any case. The fact that this is the +Carstairs yacht will mean more to the _Gazette_ than it could to the +_Daily_. It will be a kind of connecting link for them. Of course, +they'll jump at it like wildfire. If they can make anything at all out +of it, they'll play it up to-morrow so that nobody in this town can +possibly miss seeing it." + +"Pray heaven," said Peter, referring to Mary Carstairs, "that she won't +see the _Daily_ this morning!" + +"Yes. Her father's name would naturally start her to thinking, which +would make things awkward." + +"Larry, the _Gazette_ is going to print his name to-morrow morning as +sure as Smith is a lying sneak." + +"We've still got to-day, haven't we? By Jove, it's nearly eleven +already. A reporter may be down on us at almost any minute. We can't +stand being cross-examined. No searchlight of journalism playing about +on the _Cypriani_ just now, thank you. My own idea is--" + +"To grab him, to batter the face off him--" + +"No, to elude him. Not to be here. In short, to run away." + +"_What?_ You can't mean that you are going to let that dog drive you +back to New York?" + +"Well, hardly. But I do mean to make him think he has! I mean to run +down the river a few miles and anchor where they can't find us, simply +to get out of the way. Then we'll run back to-morrow in time for the +luncheon. What do you think of that?" + +Peter, his forehead rumpled like a corduroy road, stared at him fixedly +and thought it over. "I think it's the best thing in sight," he said +judicially. "An exceedingly neat little idea." + +"If we're being watched, it may persuade them that we've gone. Anyway, +it will give us time to decide what next," said Varney. And he hurried +off to confer with the sailing-master. + +Presently the engine-room bell rang out a signal. Orders were given and +repeated above and below. Men began moving about swiftly. The noise of +coal scraped hurriedly out of bunkers smote the air. The _Cypriani's_ +hold throbbed with sudden life. + +Varney, running hastily through the two newspaper stories again to make +sure that they had missed nothing that might be important to them, was +presently joined by Peter, who was looking at his watch every third +minute and swearing softly every time he looked. Something had been +discovered amiss with the machinery, it seemed. The captain was sure he +would have the plaguy thing all right in another half-hour, but you +never could tell. For his part he'd swear that a yacht was worse than +an old-style motor car: you could absolutely count on her to be out of +order at any moment when you positively had to have her. + +To be delayed until somebody appeared to challenge their going was to +lose half the battle. Varney went off to the sailing-master and spoke +with him again, concisely. The sailing-master, a sensitive man to +criticism, once more apologized, very technically, and redoubled his +energies. He went below himself to superintend the repairs and to prod +the laggards to their utmost endeavors. In less than three quarters of +an hour, by Peter's watch, he was up again, in a shower of falling +perspiration, to announce that all was ready. + +However, valuable moments had been lost. It was now nearly half-past +twelve, or, in Peter's indignant summary, "just an hour and a half too +late." + +Varney glanced toward the bridge. + +"All ready there?" he called. + +"All ready, sir," said the sailing-master, and sprang for the indicator. + +"Hold on," said Peter suddenly. "We're getting visitors. There's some +one signaling us from the shore." + +Varney's heart bounded. He turned with an exclamation; but in the next +breath, he ordered: "Let her go, Ferguson." + +Upon the shore, at the spot where the _Cypriani's_ boat ordinarily +landed, stood a tallish, stocky young man, looking at them cheerfully +and swabbing his brow with a large blue handkerchief. Catching Varney's +eye, he waved his hand with the handkerchief in it, and said, for the +second time: + +"Hello, aboard the _Cypriani!_" + +Varney stepped to the rail, a faint smile on his lip. "Hello, there! +What can we do for you?" + +"Hot as merry hell, isn't it?" said the young man pleasantly. "Send a +boat over for me, will you? I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the New +York _Daily_, and I want to come aboard for a little talk." + +"Never in this world!" breathed Peter, _sotto voce_. + +Varney smiled, grimly. "Sorry, Mr. Hammerton. You're just too late. We +are starting away from Hunston this very minute." + +The _Cypriani_ shuddered like a live thing and slid slowly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +WHICH SHOWS THE HERO A FUGITIVE + +Four miles downstream, the river's banks grew a long mile apart, and the +scenery was lonesome and a little wild. Here, as it chanced, there was +flung across the water a thin, rocky island, well-wooded and of a +respectable length. It lay nearest the western shore; and not a hamlet +or even a house, it seemed, commanded it from either side. + +They recognized it from afar as ideal anchorage for a yacht which wanted +to be let alone. So they slowed down into the island's curving shore and +dropped anchor in the lee of it, out of sight of the Hunston side of the +river and in little evidence from any point in midstream above or below. + +Securely hidden from the probing eye of the press, they were now in +something of a quandary as to what their next step should be. The hour +set for the luncheon, upon which their mission hung, was only +twenty-four hours away: and they had no idea whether the guest of honor +intended to come or stay away. Varney was torn between the necessity of +keeping clear of reporters, and the even more pressing necessity of +calling upon Mary Carstairs. If to go to town was a risk, not to go to +town was a much greater one. + +They finally decided that Peter should go to Hunston first, at once and +alone. He would walk in, lest the use of the _Cypriani_ boat should +betray them; and there take charge of the situation and see what could +be done. + +"You sit tight," Peter urged, "and give me a chance at it first. The +_Gazette_ has got nothing on me, you know; they can camp on my +shirt-tail till they get good and tired. Meantime, I'll spread it around +that you've gone away and that I'm hanging on a day or two longer to +help Hare. You only came on a pleasure trip, and all these sensational +lies spoiled your pleasure: so you pulled out. That's plausible and +reasonably true, you see. Then I'm going to find that fellow Hammerton +and try to bluff him off." + +"How?" + +"I'd much like to give him money, but it's never safe to try that with +reporters. Oh, I'll hobnob with the fellow, hand him cigars, jolly him +along about the neat way they got revenge on us for the meeting, and +sort of take it for granted that the incident ended when they chased you +away from town. If he seems dubious and acts as if he meant to work on +the 'secret mission' idea just the same, I'll go in and call on Coligny +Smith. Oh, I'm not going to hit him. If I hadn't known that would be the +worst possible tactics, I'd have gone uptown at nine o'clock this +morning and yanked him out of bed by his long, lying ears. I'm only +going to talk to him in a kindly way. He told us himself that he was out +for the hard money, you know." + +"All right," said Varney. + +Peter hesitated. "You've _got_ to go in, I suppose? It's hard luck. Here +we are working overtime to build up the popular idea that you've quit +and gone back to New York. It'll be deuced awkward if that reporter nabs +you the minute you set foot in Hunston." + +"I've got to risk it. I'll wait a while, though, and give them a chance +to drop the trail. And when I do go in, I'm not going with a brass +band." + +"There's not the least hurry," said Peter. "You've got all the rest of +the day--to-morrow morning, too, for that matter. Wait here till you +hear from me, will you? Maybe I can turn up something which will save +you from having to go in at all." + +Varney grinned. "Remember yesterday, Peter?--when you were coming back +at ten o'clock and came at four? No more unlimited contracts from me. It +is twenty minutes past one now. You can get in by two thirty if you +hustle. I must start in by half-past four. It wouldn't be safe to wait +any longer." + +"Give me a show, will you? Make it five, anyway." + +"Five, then. If you're not back on the dot, in I start for my call. Till +we meet again." + +Peter started down the stair, hesitated, turned and came back again. +"Larry," he said, with sudden gruffness, "of course, we 've both been +thinking that if it hadn't been for me, none of this mess would have +happened. I kick myself when I think--" + +"Drop it, Peter. Nobody in the world could have foreseen--" + +"Every ass in the United States," said Maginnis, his ponderous foot on +the ladder, "could have foreseen it but me. I just want you to know that +politics is absolutely sidetracked now. Before I'll let this deal of +ours fall through, I'll see Hare licked till they can't scrape him +together afterward with a fine-tooth comb." + +It was deadly quiet on the yacht after Peter left. At two o'clock Varney +went down to a solitary luncheon. At quarter past, followed by the +reproachful gaze of McTosh, he came out again. In the pit of his stomach +reposed a great emptiness, but it was not hunger. He felt restless, +high-strung, all made of nerves. He wanted to do something of a violent, +physical sort, the more grueling the better; and his task was to loll in +an easy-chair under a pretty awning and inspect the landscape. + +The port side of the _Cypriani_ was jammed as close into the island as +the science of navigation made possible. Varney went over to the other +side and sat down to wait. In front of him, a hundred yards away, the +western bank rose abruptly from the water's edge, reaching here and +there to loftiness. There were woods upon it, thick and silent, which +looked as if the defiling hand of man had never entered there. At his +back was the still, empty little island; at either side stretched the +deserted river. + +He thought it as lonely a spot as could have been found in a day's +journey, but a moment later he discovered his mistake. It was suddenly +borne in upon him that the tall, thin object which nestled so closely +among the trees a mile to the south that it was scarcely distinguishable +from them, was in reality the spire of some church; and he knew that he +was much closer to his kind than he had thought. + +And then, in time, he noticed other things. Before a great while, he saw +a boat with one person in it--a woman he thought--put out from the shore +at about where the village must be and start across to the other bank. +And later, as the afternoon wore on, he caught sight of a canoe, a few +hundred yards upstream, rocking idly down with the current. An +elderly-looking man sat in it, with a short brown beard and sun-goggles +showing under his soft hat--for the water burned under a brilliant +sky--stolidly fishing and reading a book. He looked like a rusticating +college professor--of Greek, say--and this theory seemed to be supported +by his obvious ignorance as to how to keep a canoe on the popular side +of the water. + +And later still a row-boat came swinging briskly up the quiet channel +where the yacht lay and passed her at fifty yards. A man and a woman sat +in it, presumably bound for Hunston, and they stared at the hidden, +detected _Cypriani_ with a degree of frank interest which suggested that +they would not fail to mention the strange sight to every acquaintance +they met in town. + +"That's the beauty about a yacht," thought Varney, annoyed. "You might +as well try to hide an elephant in a hall room." + +But his mind soon strayed from the pair of bumpkins and went off to +other and more pressing matters. He had now, not one great difficulty to +meet and overcome, but two. One of them was to make Uncle Elbert's +daughter keep her engagement with him. The other was to prevent the +_Gazette_ from linking the name of the _Cypriani_ with the name of +Carstairs to-morrow morning. About the first of these he allowed himself +no doubts. If the worst came to the worst, he would turn to Mrs. +Carstairs. Brutal it might be to compel the mother to introduce the +kidnapper to his quarry, her daughter; but that was no fault of his. He +would do his duty by Mrs. Carstairs's husband, no matter who got hurt. +Miss Carstairs should come to the _Cypriani_ to-morrow as she had +promised. In heaven or earth, on land or sea, there was no power which +should keep him from having his will there. + +But then there was the _Gazette_. Smith, the clever, would doubt that +the _Cypriani_ had really gone back to New York. Suppose, since he could +not find her, he would venture a few shrewd guesses in his paper +to-morrow morning connecting that "secret mission" the _Daily_ had +mentioned with Mrs. Elbert Carstairs. Miss Carstairs would see what the +_Gazette_ said; and what questions would she have to ask him before she +would come as his guest to the yacht?... + +A ripple of water fell across the young man's thought, and he glanced +up. The college professor, whom the current had washed much nearer now, +fancying, it appeared, that he had got a bite, had suddenly thrown +himself far over the edge of his canoe, stretching his rod to the +farthest reach. The slender birch-bark tipped so violently that even he +noticed it; and the next instant, he sprang back again, rocking at a +great rate. + +"Simpleton!" thought Varney. "He will go over in a minute...." + +Now her face rose before him as he had seen it first last night at +Stanhope's cottage, radiant as a dream come true--looking at him and +saying: "I'd like it very much if you could just trust _me!_" And he saw +her again when she had looked at him, eye to eye over the many heads +before the theatre, with only blank unrecognition in her glance, or had +there been, after all, a sort of latent sorrowfulness there? And then he +saw her once more, as she stood in the little box-office, her cheeks +suddenly stained red, when she begged him, please, not to ask her to +discuss it any more.... + +A sudden sharp thought came to him, putting all his imaginings to +flight, a thought so vital and so obvious that it was incredible that it +had not once crossed his mind before. If the _Gazette_ doubted that he +had returned to New York, if it was still on his trail and still wanted +to embarrass him, _it would send a man straight to Mrs. Carstairs_. + +How could he possibly have overlooked that? With the secret of the +_Cypriani's_ ownership out, of course that would be the first thing +Smith would think of: to ask Mrs. Carstairs what had brought her +husband's yacht to Hunston. And when the reporter went, who could say +what damaging admission he might surprise out of the poor lady, or at +the least what inklings to hang diabolical guesses upon? Worst of all, +he might see Miss Carstairs herself--awaken no one knew what suspicions +in her already perplexed mind. + +He sprang up and glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes past four. +Every minute had become precious now, and waiting for Peter was of +course not to be thought of. While he loitered ineffectually here, +Coligny Smith, four miles away, might be doing his plans the +irremediable injury. And he started for the cabin swiftly to get his +hat. + +But there came an interruption which stopped him short. A quick loud +splashing and sudden cries arose from the water near at hand; and he +divined instantly what had happened. The college professor, like the ass +he was, had upset his canoe. + +Varney halted, strode back to the rail. The professor came up +spluttering, blowing quarts of water from his mouth and nose, making +feeble strokes with his ineffective, collegiate arms. + +"Help!" he called in a thin watery voice. "Help! I can't swim." Whereon, +he immediately bobbed under again. + +Of course, there was nothing to do but accede to that request. + +"Lay hold of the canoe," called Varney impatiently, when the poor fellow +reappeared. "I'll send a boat down for you." + +There had been no chance of his drowning: for the overturned canoe was +staunch, and floated, a splendid life-belt, not a foot away from him. At +Varney's word, he seized hold of it feebly, with both hands. The crew +were quick. One or two of them had been watching the madman's antics for +some time, it appeared; and they had a boat down and over to him in no +time. + +Sopping with water, dripping it from his clothes and his hair and his +brown academic beard, a dazed and pitiable-looking object, he came up +the ladder not without nimbleness, and stepped through the gangway upon +the deck. + +Varney took it that his own duties in the matter were now at an end. +"Hold your places," he called to the boat crew. "I shall need you myself +at once." + +Then he turned hurriedly to the man he had rescued, who stood silently +on the deck, wringing cups of water from the skirts of his black cutaway +coat. + +"I'll have them bring you dry clothes," he said swiftly, "and anything +else you need. You'll excuse me? I am compelled to--" + +But at that he stopped dead; for the brown beard of the college +professor suddenly loosened and fell upon the deck. The professor, not +at all discomposed by the extraordinary accident, kicked it carelessly +to one side, and pitching his large hat and goggles after it, faced +Varney with a jovial smile. + +"You don't happen to have a thimble-full of redeye about, do you, Mr. +Varney?" he asked chattily. "I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the +_Daily_, you know, and that river down there is _wet_." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +A YELLOW JOURNALIST SECURES A SCOOP BUT FAILS TO GET AWAY WITH IT + +Garbed in a suit of Varney's clothes, warmed beneath his belt by a +libation from the _Cypriani's_ choicest stock, eased as to his person by +a pillow beneath his head and a comfortable rest for his feet, Charlie +Hammerton threw back his head and laughed. + +"I'm not crazy about those grand-stand plays as a rule," he said. +"Because in the first place they're yellow, and in the second place +they're a darned lot of bother. But I just _had_ to see you--I guess you +know why--and I couldn't think of anything else that struck me as really +sure. How'd I do it? Fair imitashe, hey? And I only told one lie, which +is pretty good for a proposition of this sort. I _can_ swim, Mr. Varney. +Like a blooming duck." + +Varney laughed. "You're half an hour too late in telling me that, you +know! But tell me how you managed all this: it was so clever! And do try +one of these cigars." + +They sat at ease on the awninged after-deck, a wicker table between them +convivial with decanters and their recognized appurtenances, like two +old friends met for a happy reunion. The _Gazette's_ star reporter was +as different from one's conception of a dangerous adversary as it is +possible for a man to be. He seemed only a pleasant-faced, friendly boy +of twenty-three or four, with an honest eye and a singularly infectious +laugh. + +"Don't mind if I do--thanks!" said Hammerton, to the proffer of cigars. +"Well, it wasn't so very hard. After you steamed off, and left me gazing +nervously out to sea like a deserted fisher's wife, I--" + +"No, you don't!" laughed Varney. "Begin way back at the beginning. I'm +as ignorant as a baby about all this, you know." + +Hammerton rather liked the idea of lolling on a luxurious yacht and +explaining to the outwitted owner just how he had done it. + +"Well," he said, "it's like this. When you fellows jumped in and +kidnapped Ryan and banged the administration in the eye and slapped the +_Gazette_ some stinging ones on the wrist, of course, we couldn't just +sit still and go quietly on with our knitting. Nay, nay! So we played up +that gossip about you as strong as we could, sort of guessing that it +might hurt your feelings a little. I'm going to be frank with you, you +see! And then another idea came to us that wasn't half bad. You said you +were Mr. Laurence Varney of New York. Well, whether that was true or +not--begging your pardon, of course!--that gave it a New York interest, +don't you see? So Mr. Smith, more by way of a feeler than anything else, +wired it off to the _Daily_--" + +"Why," interrupted Varney, "I thought you were the correspondent of the +_Daily_?" + +"So I am. But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing +it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he +called me in and showed me the _Daily_. You've seen it, I suppose? Of +course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and +particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery +idea. Smith said: 'There appears to be more in this than meets the eye, +Charles. Hustle you down to the _Cypriani_, or ever the birds be flown.' +So I hustled. But then I did a fool thing that nearly gummed the game +entirely. Just at the edge of the woods, I met a boy coming up the hill. + +"Maybe you remember that kid, Mr. Varney--the telegraph boy? He was just +on his way back from the yacht when I ran into him." + +"Come to think of it, I believe I did see that boy hanging around here." + +"As hard a little nut," said Hammerton, "as you ever saw in your life. +When he saw me, he stopped short and asked where I was going. I told him +to the yacht. ''T ain't no use,' he said--I won't try to give his +lingo--'they've gone.' And the little devil actually went on to tell me +how he had overheard the two gentlemen talking--guys he called you--and +how you had decided to return to New York at once, and how he had looked +back from the shore and seen the yacht already steaming away." + +Thus Varney learned that he had one friend in Hunston who was true to +him, according to his poor little lights; and he felt that that kindly +lie of Tommy Orrick's, if it was ever set down against him anywhere, +must be the kind that is blotted out again in tears. + +"Why, I've been good to that kid," said Hammerton, "giving him +cigar-ends nearly every time I see him and that sort of thing. I never +thought he had so much pure _malice_ in him. Well, like a fool, I turned +right around and went back. I felt so pleased about it--for of course +that was just what the _Gazette_ wanted--that I dropped in at the +Ottoman for an eye-opener, and by Jove! it was nearly an hour before I +got back to the office." + +He laughed, at first ruefully, then merrily--for had not everything +turned out in the most satisfactory way in the world? + +"Smith's a beaut," he said, shaking his head reminiscently. "I don't +believe anything ever got away from him since he was big enough to sit +in front of a desk. When I told him that you fellows had gone back to +New York, he never batted an eye. He just pulled a telescope out of the +bottom drawer of his desk and went up to the roof. In two minutes he was +down again. 'Charles,' he said in that quiet biting way of his, 'God may +have put bigger fools than you into this world, but in his great mercy +he has not sent them to retard the work of the _Gazette_. The yacht lies +precisely where she has lain for these two days. Will it be quite +convenient for you to drop down there and have a talk, or do you design +to wait until the gentlemen call at your desk and beg the privilege of +telling you all?'" + +He laughed again, this time without a trace of resentment; and so merry +and spontaneous was this laugh that Varney could not help joining in. + +"I suppose old Smith can tell you to go-to-hell more politely, yet more +thoroughly, than any man that ever lived. I _ran_--and I was just in +time at that, hey? Well, when you fellows steamed off, I kind of +suspected that you weren't going very far. So I got a boy and had him +trail you down the old River road on a wheel. By the time he got back +and told me that I had sized it up about right, I had my plans arranged +and my make-up all ready. That make-up was rather neat, I thought, what? +Meantime, a long wire had come in from the _Daily_ office, which made me +keener than ever to see you. So I hired another wheel, ran on down, +borrowed a canoe from a man I know here, and I guess you know the rest." + +"I should say I did," said Varney. "Ha, ha! I should rather say I did." + +One reason why it was so advantageous to make the boy talk was that it +gave one a chance to think. All the time that he had listened so +pleasantly to this garrulous chatter, Varney had been swiftly planning. +Now he had the situation pretty well analyzed and saw all the ways that +there were. + +He might send the reporter away convinced that there was nothing in this +new theory, after all, that the _Gazette's_ trump card in fighting +Maginnis and Reform was still his own unhappy resemblance to the +outlawed author. Or he might send him off with enough of a new theory to +make him think it unnecessary to go to Mrs. Carstairs or her +daughter--the fatal possibility. Or, if both of these proved +impracticable as they almost certainly would, there was only one course +left: he would not let Hammerton go away at all. + +"But have another little drop or two, won't you? Those dips with your +clothes on aren't a bit good for the health." + +"Well, just a little tickler," said Charlie Hammerton. But he permitted +himself to be helped quite liberally, with no protesting "when." "My +regards, Mr. Varney! Also my compliments and thanks for accepting the +situation like such a genuine game one." + +Varney nodded. "The fortunes of war, Mr. Hammerton. But do go on. You +have no idea how interesting the newspaper game is to an outsider, +particularly--ha, ha!--when it walks right across his own quiet career. +As I understand it, you're on the regular staff of the _Gazette_, and +then are a special correspondent of the _Daily_, besides?" + +Hammerton, cocksure of his game and pleasantly cheered by the potent +draught, thought that he had never interviewed so agreeable a man. + +"That's it exactly. Then, besides, we run a little news-bureau at the +_Gazette_, you know--sell special stuff, whenever there's anything +doing, to papers all over the country. The bureau didn't touch this +story last night--why, I thought it was too 'it-is-understood' and +'rumor-has-it' and all that, to go even with the _Daily_--in your old +own town. It'll be different to-night, all right. We'll query our whole +string on it now--unless," he added with frank despondency, "the darned +old Associated Press decides to pinch it." + +"Query them, Mr. Hammerton?" + +"Yes, wire them a brief, kind of piquant outline of the story, you know, +and ask them if they don't want it. And I sort of guess they'll all want +it, all right!" + +"We'll see about that in a minute," laughed Varney. "There's lots of +time. Tell me about that brilliant young editor of yours, Mr. Smith. The +men in the office all like him and sympathize with his policies, I +suppose?" + +Hammerton laughed, doubtfully. "Well, they all look up to him and +respect him as one of the cleverest newspaper men in the country. +Personally, I like old Smith fine, though nobody ever gets close to him +a bit. He's mighty good to me--lets me write little editorials two or +three times a week, and says I'm not so awful at it. As for sympathizing +with his policies--well, you know I'm not sure Smith sympathizes with +'em much himself. I have a kind of private hunch that he's gotten sore +on his job and would sell out if somebody--well, suppose we say our +friend Ryan--would offer him his price. No, I'm not so keen for these +indirect methods, Mr. Varney. At the same time, it's part of the game, I +suppose, and I always believe in playing a game right out to the end, +for everything there is in it." + +At the unmistakable significance in his tone, Varney looked up and found +the reporter's eyes fixed upon him in an odd gaze which made him look +all at once ten years older and infinitely difficult to baffle: a gaze +which made it plain, in fact, that the wearer of it was not to be put +off with anything short of the whole truth. The next second that look +broke into an easy laugh, and Hammerton was a chattering boy again. + +But Varney's mood rose instantly to meet the antagonism of the +reporter's look, and hung there. He pulled a silver case from his +pocket, selected a cigarette with care and lit it with deliberation. He +had learned everything that he wanted to know; the conversation was +beginning to grow tiresome; and he found the boy's careless +self-confidence increasingly exasperating. + +"But as for undercutting Hare," laughed Hammerton, "I don't like it a--" + +"Tell me this," Varney interrupted coolly. "When the _Gazette_ prepared +its story about me last night, did it believe for one moment that I was +this man Stanhope?" + +"Why, I'm not the _Gazette_, of course," said Hammerton, a little taken +aback by the cool change of both topic and manner, "but my private +suspicion is that it entertained a few doubts on the subject. What do we +think now? Look here, Mr. Varney," the boy said amiably, "you've been +white about this business, and I do really want to show that I +appreciate it." + +He fumbled in the side-pocket of his wet coat, which hung on a near-by +chair, produced a damp paper of the familiar yellow, smoothed it out and +handed it across the table. + +"I guess I won't keep any secrets from you, Mr. Varney." + +Varney, taking the telegram with a nod, read the following: + + _Gazette_, HUNSTON: + + Varney-Stanhope story good stuff, but lacking details, + vague and inaccurate. Stanhope located in Adirondacks, + though not reached. See _Daily_ to-day. Man on yacht + Varney. Apparent secrecy surrounding departure from + here. Interview him sure and secure full statement as + to business which brought him to Hunston. Also interview + Mrs. Elbert Carstairs in Hunston. She separated + from husband years ago. His yacht there with name + erased suggests mystery. Rush fullest details day-rate if + necessary. Pictures made. Expect complete story and + interviews early to-night sure. + S. P. STOKES. + +"Now," said Charlie Hammerton, when Varney looked up, "you see why I +went to such a lot of trouble to get hold of you." + +"Yes," said Varney, slowly, his eye upon him, "I see." + +He folded the telegram, laid it at Hammerton's elbow, got up and stood +with his hands on the back of his chair, looking down. At the thought +that he had ever hoped to call the reporter off, to stop this deadly +machinery of journalism, once it had been started, he could have +laughed. The _Daily_ telegram showed how impossible that had always +been. Now it was suddenly and overwhelmingly plain that to force a +fight on Hammerton, which had been his favorite purpose from the +beginning, even to seize and lock him up, would be of no avail whatever. +Other reporters in endless procession, waited behind him, ready to step +into his place; and the pitiless machinery, in which he, Varney, +happened to be caught at the moment, would go steadily grinding on till +it had crushed out the heart of the hidden truth. + +He saw no way out at all. His mind revolved at fever heat, while he said +calmly: "Go back to your employers, Mr. Hammerton, and report that you +have no story to sell them. Say further that since they knowingly +printed a lying slander about me this morning, you, as an honorable man, +insist upon their making full retractions and apologies to-morrow." + +Hammerton, who had taken his interview as a foregone conclusion, looked +momentarily astounded; but on top of that his manner changed again, to +meet Varney's changed one, in the wink of an eye. + +"You can't mean," he said briskly, ignoring Varney's last remark +entirely, "that you decline to make a statement for our readers?" + +"Why should I encourage your readers to stick their infernal noses into +my business?" + +"For your own sake, Mr. Varney--because everybody has started asking +questions. To refuse to answer them, from your point of view, is the +worst thing you could do. As you know, newspapers always have other +sources of information, and also ways of making intelligent guesses. +While these guesses are usually surprisingly accurate, it sometimes +happens that we work out a theory that is a whole lot worse than the +truth." + +"Of course," said Varney, with sudden absentness. "That's the way you +sell your dirty papers, is n't it?" + +"Mr. Varney, why did you come--?" began Hammerton, but stopped short, +perceiving that the other no longer listened, and quite content to leave +him to a little reflection. + +For Varney, struck by a thought so new that it was overwhelming, had +unexpectedly turned away. He leaned upon the rail and looked out over +the blue, sunny water. A brilliant plan had flashed into his mind--a big +daring plan which, far more than anything else he had thought of, might +be effective and final. Instead of making an enemy of Hammerton, which +could accomplish nothing, it would turn him into a champion, which meant +victory. + +It was a desperate solution, but it was a solution. + +After all, what else remained? To dismiss the boy with nothing would be +to send him straight to the Carstairs house with no one knew what +results. To manhandle him would be simply to start another sleuth on the +trail. But this plan, if it worked, would avoid that, and every other, +risk of trouble. And if it failed, he would be no worse off than he was +now; for in that case he would not allow Hammerton to go back to the +_Gazette_ at all that day. + +He dropped his cigarette over the side, turned and found the eye of the +press firmly fastened upon him. + +"Mr. Varney," said Hammerton, with swift acuteness, "maybe I'm not as +bad a fellow as you think. Why can't you trust me with this story--of +what brought you to Hunston, and what made you run away this morning and +hide? If it's really something that newspapers haven't got anything to +do with, I'll go straight back to the office and make them leave you +alone. Oh, I have enough influence to do it, all right! And if it's +something different and--well, a little unusual, I'll promise to put you +in the best light possible. Why don't you trust me with it?" + +"Well," said Varney with a stormy smile, "suppose I do, then!" + +"Good!" cried Hammerton cordially, observing him, however, with some +intentness. "Honestly, it's the very best thing you could do." + +Varney rested upon the back of his chair again and stood staring down at +the reporter for some time in silence. + +"Mr. Hammerton," he began presently, "I know that the great majority of +newspaper men are fair and honorable and absolutely trustworthy. I know +that it is a part of their capital to be able to keep a secret as well +as to print one. For this reason, I have upon reflection decided to +confide--certain facts to you, feeling sure that they will never go any +further--" + +"Of course, Mr. Varney," the reporter interrupted, "you understand that +I can't make any promises in advance." + +"Let the risk be mine," said Varney. "I am certain that when you have +heard what I have to tell you, you will report to your papers that my +'mysterious errand' turns out to be simply a matter of personal and +private business, with which the public has no concern, and whose +publication at this time would hopelessly ruin it. Mr. Hammerton, I came +to Hunston to see Miss Mary Carstairs." + +A gleam came into Hammerton's eye. Varney, watching that observant +feature, knew that no detail of his story, or of his manner in telling +it, would escape a most critical scrutiny. + +"The fewer particulars the better," he said grimly. "I shall tell the +substance because that seems now, after all, the best way to protect the +interests of those concerned. Mr. Hammerton, as the _Daily_ told you, +Mr. Carstairs and his wife have separated, though they are still on +friendly terms with each other. Their only child remains with the +mother. Mr. Carstairs is getting old. He is naturally an affectionate +man, and he is very lonely. In short, he has become most anxious to have +his daughter spend part of her time with him. Mrs. Carstairs entirely +approves of this. The daughter, however, absolutely refuses to leave her +mother, feeling, it appears, that nothing is due her father from her. +Arguments are useless. Well, what is to be done? Mr. Carstairs, because +his great need of his daughter grows upon him, conceives an unusual +plan. He will send an ambassador to Hunston--unaccredited, of course, a +man, young, not married, who--don't think me a coxcomb--but who might +be able to arouse the daughter's interest. This ambassador is to go on +Mr. Carstairs's own yacht, the name, of course, being erased, so that +the daughter may not recognize it. He is to meet the young lady, +cultivate her, make friends with her--all without letting her dream that +he comes from her father, for that would ruin everything. And, then--" + +He broke off, paused, considered. In Hammerton's eye he saw a light +which meant sympathy, kindly consideration, human interest. He knew that +the battle was half won. He had only to say: "And then talk to her about +her poor old father, who loves her, and who is growing old in a big +house all by himself; and tell her how he needs her so sorely that old +grudges ought to be forgotten; and ask her, in the name of common +kindness, to come down and pay him a visit before it is too late." He +had only to say that, and he knew, for he read it in Hammerton's whole +softened expression, that the boy would go away with his lips locked. + +But he couldn't say that, the reason being that it was not true. + +"And then," he said, with a truthfulness so bold that he was sure the +reporter would not follow it, "and then--don't you see? he is to try to +_make_ her go down to New York and pay a visit to that lonely old father +who needs her so badly. Since she is so obstinate about it, he must find +some way to _make_ her go before it is too late. _Now_ do you +understand, Mr. Hammerton? _Now_ do you perceive why the thought of +having all this pitiful story scareheaded in a penny paper is +insufferable to me?" + +He towered above Hammerton, crisp words falling like leaden bullets, +stern, insistent, determined to be believed. But he saw a look dawn on +the younger man's face which made him instantly fear that he had told +too much. + +And then suddenly Hammerton sprang to his feet, keen eyes shot with +light, ruddy cheek paled a little with excitement, fronting Varney in +startled triumph over the drinks they had shared. + +"Make her!" he blurted in a high shrill voice. "Mr. Varney, _you came up +here to kidnap her!_" + +The two men stared at each other in a moment of horrified silence. +Something in the reporter's air of victory, in the kind of thrilling joy +with which he pounced upon the carefully guarded little secret and +dragged it out into the light, made him all at once loathsome in +Varney's eyes, a creature unspeakably repellent. + +Suddenly he leaned across the little table and struck Hammerton lightly +across the mouth with the back of his hand. + +"You cad," he said whitely. + +But Hammerton, never to be stopped by details now, ignored both the +insult and the blow. He was on the rail like a cat, ready to swim for +it, hot to take his great scoop to Mrs. Carstairs, to Coligny Smith, to +readers of newspapers all over the land. + +The table was between them, and it went over with a crash. Quick as he +was, Varney was barely in time. His hand fell upon the reporter's coat +when another fraction of a second would have been too late. Then he +flung backward with a wrench, and Hammerton came toppling heavily to the +deck. + +Smarting with the pain of the fall, hot with anger at last, the +reporter was up in an instant, spitting blood, and they clenched with +the swiftness of lightning. Then they broke away, violently, and went at +it in grim earnest. + +It was the fight of a lifetime for each of them and they were splendidly +matched. Hammerton was two inches the shorter, but he had twenty pounds +of solid weight to offset that; and in close work, especially, his +execution was polished. They had it up and down the deck, hammer and +tongs, swinging, landing, rushing, sidestepping. At the first crash of +broken glass on the deck, the crew had begun to appear, unobtrusively +from all directions. Now cabin-hatch, galley-hatch, deck-house, every +coign of vantage along the battlefield held its silent cluster of +wondering figures. But McTosh, familiar old family retainer, slipped +nearer at the first opportunity and whispered, in just that eager tone +with which he pressed a side-dish upon one's notice: + +"Can't I give you a little help, sir?" + +"Keep away, steward," said Varney, between clenched teeth, "or you'll +get hurt." + +Saying which, he received a savage blow on the point of the chin and +struck the deck with a thud. + +"Oh, my Gawd, sir!" breathed McTosh. + +But his young master was on his feet like a tiger, in a whirl of crazy +passion. He had resolved all along that Hammerton would have to kill him +before he should get away with that secret. Now it came to him like a +divine revelation that the way to avoid this was to kill Hammerton. To +that pleasant end, he goaded his adversary with a light blow, +side-stepped his rush, uppercutted and the reporter went down, almost +head first, and cruelly hard. + +He came up dazed, game but very wild, and Varney got another chance +promptly, which was just as well. Hammerton went down again, head on +once more, and this time he did not come up at all. + +The crew, unable to repress themselves, let out a cheer, and came +crowding on the deck. But Varney, standing over Hammerton's limp body, +waved them back impatiently. + +"Hold your noise!" he ordered. "And stand back! I'm attending to this +job!" + +He picked Hammerton up in his arms, staggered with him to his own +stateroom, and laid him down on the bunk. The boy did not stir, gave no +visible sign of life. But when Varney put his hand over the other's +heart, he found it beating away quite firmly. His breathing and pulse +were regular--everything was quite as it should be. He would come round +in half an hour, and be as good a man as ever. And he would have a long, +idle time to rest, and look after his bruises and get back his strength +again. + +Varney took the key from the door, put it in outside, turned it and came +on deck again. The crew had vanished to their several haunts. Two +deck-hands in blouses and red caps had just completed the rehabilitation +of the deck, and at sight of him discreetly vanished forward. + +"Ferguson," called Varney, "a word with you, please." + +The grizzled sailing-master came quickly, obviously curious for an +explanation of these strange matters. + +Rapidly Varney explained to him that the incarcerated man was a reporter +who thought that he had got hold of a scandalous story about Mr. +Carstairs, and was most anxious to get ashore so that he could publish +this scandal all over the country. + +"I am obliged to go to town immediately," he continued. "Rumors of this +ugly story have already been started, and I must do everything I can to +nail them. I am going to trust the responsibility here to you. As soon +as I leave the yacht, I want you to start her down the river. That is to +get the gentleman and the yacht out of the way. Go straight ahead for +two or three hours and then come back. Make your calculations so that +you'll get back here at--say ten o'clock to-night--here, mind you, not +the old anchorage. I'll be ready to come aboard by that time. Have two +men guard that stateroom constantly every minute. Give the gentleman +every possible attention, but don't let him make any noise, and don't +let him get out. No matter what he says or does, _don't let him get +out_. Do you follow me?" + +"I do, sir. To the menootest detail." + +"If you carry the matter through, you may rely upon Mr. Carstairs's +gratitude. If, on the other hand, you fail--" + +"Oh, I'll not fail, sir. Have no fear of that." + +"I am speaking to you man to man, Ferguson, when I say, for God's sake +don't." + +He walked away to arrange himself a little for the town, seeing clearly +that there was but one possible way out of all this for him now. The +sailing-master stared after him with a very curious expression upon his +weather-beaten face. + +At about the same moment, in a tiny room four miles away, an elderly, +melancholy man sat bowed over a telegraph board and drowsily plied his +keys. He was the _Gazette's_ special operator, and, having his orders +from Mr. Parker, who looked after the news bureau when Hammerton was +away, he was methodically going through his list like this: + +_Tribune_, PITTSBURG: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery surrounding +prominent men, one of whom now hiding here. Probable scandal, one +thousand words. + +_Press_, CINCINNATI: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery-- + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +VARNEY MEETS HIS ENEMY AND IS DISARMED + +Varney crossed the square in the gathering dusk and went slowly up Main +Street, looking about him as he walked. He had wrenched his ankle +slightly in one of his falls upon the _Cypriani's_ deck, and the +four-mile walk over the ruts of the River road to the town had done it +no good. Worse yet, it had made the trip down from the yacht laboriously +slow, and he was harried with the fear that the irreparable damage might +already have been done. + +If it had not, if no reporter had yet gone to the Carstairs house, his +one possible hope of escape stood before him like a palm-tree in a +plain. Stiffened and strengthened by all his difficulties, his resolve +to win throbbed and mounted within him; but he faced the knowledge that +the odds now were heavily against him. On the long chance, he had played +a desperate game, had come within an ace of winning, and had lost. His +great secret which, beyond any other purpose, he had meant to guard to +the end, was glaringly out. Now it was the iron heart of his will that +it should go no further. Talkative young Hammerton had given him the +hint how that might be accomplished; and if the method was extreme, it +would be sure. Whatever the cost, it would be a small price to pay for +keeping his name, and Uncle Elbert's, out of ruinous headlines in +to-morrow's papers. + +Two blocks further on he came opposite a neat, three-story brick +building, across the width of which was a black and gold signboard, +lettered THE GAZETTE. Below it was the large plate-glass window of a +counting-room, now dark. On the left was a lighted doorway, leading +upstairs. + +Varney crossed, climbed the stairs, found himself in a narrow upstairs +hall, rapped upon a closed ground-glass door bearing the legend +"Editorial." From within, a voice of unenthusiasm bade him enter, and he +went in, closing the door behind him. + +In a swivel-chair by an open roller-top desk, a young man sat, idly +smoking a cigarette, his back to the door, his languorous feet hung out +of the window. There were electric lights in the room, but they were not +lit. All the illumination that there was came from a single dingy +gas-fixture stuck in the wall near the desk, but that was enough. + +Varney came closer. "Smith," said he. + +"Well," said Smith. + +"I have come to see you." + +"Well--look away," said Smith. + +There was not a trace of the "Hast thou found me?" in the editor's voice +or his manner. If he expected assassination, he did not appear to mind. +He sat on without turning, staring apathetically out of the window, just +as he had done when he watched Varney cross and come in at his door. + +"I have come," said Varney, "because I understand that you are the sole +owner, as well as the editor, of this paper. Am I right?" + +Smith lit a fresh cigarette, flipped the old one out of the window and +paused to watch the boys outside fight for it. Half-smoked stubs came +frequently out of that window when Mr. Smith sat there and many boys in +Hunston knew it. + +"Assuming that you are?" queried he. + +"Assuming that," said Varney, "I'll say that I have come to buy this +paper. And to discharge you from the editorship." + +Smith drew in his feet, and swung slowly around. The two men measured +each other in an interval of intelligent silence. On the whole, upon +this close view, Varney found it harder to think of Smith as a +contemptible cur who circulated lying slanders for profit than as the +young man who wrote the famous editorials. + +"And still they come," said Smith, enigmatically. "Three of them in one +day--well, well!" And he added musingly: "So I have stung you as hard as +that, have I?" + +"Let us say rather," said Varney, whose present tack was diplomacy, +"that I have some loose money which I want to stow away in a paying +little enterprise." + +"I am the last man in the world to boast of a kindness," continued +Smith, in his faintly mocking manner, "but I gave you fair warning to +leave town." + +"Instead I stayed. And an exceedingly interesting town I have found it. +Something doing every minute. But, as I just remarked, I have looked in +to buy your paper." + +"If I were like some I know," meditated Smith, "I'd be thinking: 'The +Lord has delivered him into my hand, aye, delivered dear old Beany.' I'd +embarrass you with questions, make you blush with catechisms. But I am a +merciful man, and observe that I ask you nothing. You want to buy the +_Gazette_ for an investment. Let it stand at that. So you're the +money-grubbing sort that supposes that everything on God's hassock has +its price?" + +"I believe it's street knowledge that the _Gazette_ has its. But I +called really not so much to discuss ethics, as to ascertain your +figure." + +Smith gave a sigh which was not without its trace of mockery. +"'Fortunately, I am hardened to insults. Editors are expected to stand +anything. Times are dull--nothing much to do--drop around and kick the +editor. You've no idea what we have to put up with from spring poets +alone. Rejoice, B----, that is, Mr.--er--Blank, that the _Gazette_ is +never to be yours." + +"You can't mean that you decline to sell?" + +"When I implied to you just now that I was sole owner of the _Gazette_, +I was, of course, speaking rather reminiscently than in the strict light +of present facts." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"That I sold the _Gazette_ at four o'clock this afternoon." + +For an instant the room whirled and Varney saw nothing in it but the odd +eyes of Coligny Smith steadily fixing him. By the shock of that blow, he +realized that, after all, he had wholly counted upon succeeding in +this. From the moment when he had turned his stateroom key on +unconscious Charlie Hammerton, he had recognized it as his one chance. +And now he was too late. Clever Ryan, who missed nothing, doubtless +suspecting that the faithless editor who had sold out once to him might +now be planning to do it again to a higher bidder, had outstripped him. +And the _Gazette_ to-morrow would damn him utterly. + +But Varney's face, as these thoughts came to him, wore a faint, +non-committal smile. "That is final, I suppose?" + +"As death, so far as I am concerned. I leave Hunston permanently +to-morrow morning." + +"Who was the buyer?" + +"There is really no reason why I should divulge his confidence that I +know of; but, curses on me, I'll do it if you'll tell me this: Where is +Charles Hammerton?" + +Varney laid his hat and stick on the table, to rid his hands of them, +and faced Mr. Smith, leaning lightly against it. + +"I came here, Smith, to ask questions, not to answer them. On second +thoughts, I withdraw my last one, for I can guess the answer. But before +we proceed further, I want you to tell me this: what made you sell?" + +The editor pitched another cigarette-end out of the window. Again a +shout from the street indicated that it had become a bone of bitter +contest among the town's smokers of the _sub-rosa_ class. + +"Suppose I were to tell you," said Smith slowly, "that I anticipate a +shakeup here which will cut the backbone out of my profits? What would +you say to that?" + +"I suppose I should say that it was ever the custom of rats to desert a +sinking ship. So that was your mainspring, was it?" + +"On the contrary," said Smith. "I am taking what is technically known as +a small rise out of you. You ask why I sold. It was a man with the +price. Money," began Mr. Smith, "screams. The cash on my desk was this +man's way of doing business, and a good deal it was. However, it'll net +him six per cent year in and out, at that--a good rate in these lean +times. I, of course, did better. I got--shall we say?--pickings. The +past tense already, heigho! Well, it's been a most instructive life. My +father taught me to write. He was esteemed a good editor, and he was, +but at eighteen I was correcting his leaders for him. Hand Greeley a +soft pencil and a pass at the encyclopedia, so he used to say, and he +could prove anything under the sun. I am like that, except that--well, I +don't believe I need the encyclopedia. It wasn't Greeley who made the +remark, of course. It's a rule on the press to pin all journalistic +anecdotes on Greeley. You sign the pledge when you go in. To be +accounted strictly moral," continued Smith, "an editor must be blind in +one eye and astigmatic in the other. Then he rings the bull's-eye of +Virtue ten times out of ten, and the clergy bleats with delight. You +can't find spiritual candor anywhere with a telescope, except in the +criminal classes. There are no Pharisees there, God be praised! For my +part, I see both sides of every question that was ever asked, and +usually--don't you think?--both of them are right. I first adopt my +point of view and subsequently prove it. Obviously, this is where the +pickings come in. My grandfather started this paper on two hundred and +fifty dollars, fifty dollars of which, I have heard, was his own. I +could knock off for life as an idle member of the predatory classes, I +suppose, but after all, I was made for an editor. In years past, I have, +of course, had my offers from New York. Two of them were left open +forever, and a little while ago, I telegraphed down and took the best. A +grateful wire came in five minutes ahead of you. And that," he concluded +wearily, in the flattest tones of a curiously flat voice, "is the life +story of C. Smith, editor, up to the hour of going to press." + +Varney, who had never once been tempted to interrupt this strange +apologia, struggled with an impulse to feel desperately sorry for Mr. +Smith, and almost overcame it. + +"Smith," he said, in a moment, "why don't you tell me why you sold?" + +The editor got up and stared out of the window. Presently he turned, an +odd faint flush tingeing his ordinarily colorless cheek. His air of +smooth cynicism was gone, for once; and Varney saw then, as he had +somehow suspected before, that the editor of the _Gazette_ wore polished +bravado as a cloak and that underneath it he carried a rather troubled +soul. + +"You are right," said Smith, "I--was twigging you again. Let us say," +he added, looking at Varney with a kind of shamefaced defiance, "that a +man gets tired of living on pickings after a while." + +If he had been ten times a liar, ten times a slanderer and assassin of +character, a man would have known that the young editor spoke the truth +then. That knowledge disarmed Varney. To have sold the _Gazette_ to one +who would prostitute it still further was hardly a noble act; but for +Smith it meant unmistakably that he wanted to cut loose from the old +evil walks where he had done ill by his honor and battened exceedingly. + +"All along," said Varney slowly, "I have had a kind of sneaking feeling +that there was a spark left in you yet." + +He picked up his hat and stick again, and faced the pale young editor. + +"Smith, you have done me a devilish wrong. You have knowingly printed a +vile slander about me, aware that the natural result of your falsehood +was that some poor drunken fool would shoot me down from behind. When I +walked in here five minutes ago, I had two purposes in mind. One was to +buy your paper. The other was to throw you down the front stairs. I am +leaving now without doing either. I abandoned the first because I had +to; I abandon the second, voluntarily, because--I don't quite know +why--but I think it is because it seems inappropriate to hit a man when +he is down and something is just driving him to try to scramble up." + +He put on his hat and started to go; but Smith stopped him with a +gesture. He let his eye, from which all sign of emotion had faded, run +slowly over Varney's slender figure. + +"I wasn't such a slouch in my younger days," he said. "Football at my +prep school, football and crew at my college. Boxed some at odd moments; +was counted fair to middling. Some offhand practice since with people +I've roasted--agents, actors, and the like. As to that throwing +downstairs proposition now, if you'd care to try it on--" + +Varney shook his head. "I don't know that I can explain it--and no one +regrets it more than I--but all the wish to _smash_ you, Smith, has gone +away somewhere. The bottom has dropped out of it. Good-bye." + +"You are going? So am I," said Smith, with a fair imitation of his usual +lightness. "Going away for good. I hope you will come through this all +right. I'll never see you again. Shake hands, will you? You couldn't +know it, of course, but--it--is possible that I owe something to--you +two fellows." + +He stood motionless, half turned away, thin hands hanging loosely at his +sides. + +Varney, who had colored slightly, took a last look at him. "No," he +said, suddenly much embarrassed, "I--I'm afraid I couldn't do it in the +way you mean, and so there wouldn't be any point in it. But I--I do wish +you luck with all my heart." + +He shut the door, and started down the stairway; and he straightway +forgot Smith in the returning tide of his own difficulties. He saw +clearly that there was no longer any hope; his plans were wrecked past +mending. Persuading Miss Carstairs to keep her engagement to-morrow, his +one great problem this morning, had become an unimportant detail now. +Charlie Hammerton, with his merciless knowledge, filled the whole +horizon like a menacing mirage. + +It would not be enough to close the boy's month till after the luncheon +and then let it open to babble. For Elbert Carstairs had flatly drawn +the line at a yellow aftermath of sensation. He would count a tall-typed +scandal the day after to-morrow, when his daughter was with him, fully +as bad as the same affliction now. And, the newspaper finally lost to +them, there was no conceivable way in which that scandal could be +averted now. + +But about the moment when his foot hit the bottom of the worn stairs, +the door at the head of them burst open, and a curiously stirred voice, +which he had some difficulty in recognizing as Smith's, called his name. + +"Varney! oh, Varney! I--really meant to tell you--and then I forgot." + +He turned and saw the editor's pale face hanging over the banisters. + +"It was Maginnis I sold the _Gazette_ to, you know--Peter Maginnis. I +wouldn't have sold it to anybody else. You'll find him at the hotel +eating supper." + +Varney, looking at him, knew then what it was that Smith thought he owed +to him and Maginnis. + +He went back up the stairs and the two men shook hands in rather an +agitated silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN MR. HACKLEY, THE DOG MAN, AND MR. RYAN, THE BOSS + +At half past six o'clock, or thereabouts, James Hackley dragged slowly +up Main Street. He was garbed in his working suit of denim blue, trimmed +with monkey wrench and chisel, and he wore, further, an air of +exaggerated fatigue. A rounded protuberance upon his cheek indicated +that the exhilaration of the quid was not wanting to his inner man, but +the solace he drew from it appeared pitifully trifling. Now and then he +would pause, rest his person against a lamp-post, or the front of some +emporium, and shake his head despondently, like one most fearful of the +consequences of certain matters. + +Since four o'clock that afternoon, in fact, Mr. Hackley had been out +upon a reluctant stint of lawn-mowing, reluctant because he hated all +work with a Titanic hatred and sedulously cultivated the conviction that +his was a delicate health. In view of the magnificent windfall in +connection with the killing of his dog, it had not been his design to +accept any more retainers for a long time to come. That occurrence had +lifted him, as by the ears, from the proletariat into the capitalistic +leisure class; and the map of the world had become but the portrait of +his oyster. + +But at noon as he lolled upon his rear veranda, chatting kindly with +his wife as she hung the linen of quality upon her drying lines, a lady +had knocked upon his door, beautiful and insistent, to wheedle his will +from him. It was only a tiny bit of a lawn, she had reiterated +imploringly, hardly a constitutional to cut, and there was not one tall +fellow in all Hunston whom she would permit to touch it but Hackley. +Dead to all flattery as he was, his backbone ran to water at the +clinging beauty of her smile, and so incredibly betrayed him into +yielding. And now, at hard upon half after six o'clock, post-meridian, +the dangerous dews of night already beginning to fall, he leaned against +a lamp-post, a physical wreck, with a long block and a half still +separating him from the comforts of home. + +At the next corner but one above rose the red brick Ottoman, its +inviting side stretching for many yards down the street towards him. +Windows cut it here and there along its length, and over their green +silk half-curtains, poured forth a golden light which was hospitality +made visible. Yet, so strange are the ways of life, the proprietor of +all these luxuries, who stood at the furthest window, beyond Hackley's +range, did not look happy in their possession. His eyes gleamed +fiercely; his heavy chin protruded savagely, as though deliberately +insulting Main Street and the northward universe. Even his small derby, +which he seldom doffed save at the hour for taps, contrived to bespeak a +certain ferocity. + +The Ottoman bar was bare of customers, all Hunston now verging towards +its evening meal. Ryan rested his elbow upon its polished surface, and +glared into the twilight. He was, as luck had it, in a terrible +ill-humor. For he knew himself to-day for a man who had been physically +flouted, a boss whose supremacy had been violently assailed, a king who +felt his throne careen sickeningly beneath him. + +Last night, when four men whom he had never seen before, three of them +masked, had borne him off on a long wild drive, and dropped him at ten +o'clock in a lonely bit of country eight miles from the Academy Theatre, +there had at least been action to give point to his choler. All but out +of his mind with passion, he had besought them all, singly or quadruply, +to descend from their carriage and meet him in combat, thirsting sorely +to kill or be killed. But they had only laughed at him, silently, and +galloped away, leaving him screaming out futile curses on the empty +night air. + +Two hours later, when he had got back to Hunston, after an interminable +nightmare of running over rough ground with unaccustomed limbs, and +stumbling heavily to earth, and rising up to struggle again, he had +learned to what uses his enemies had put that absence. Smith had related +the story in the fastness of his office, and in wholly different guise +from that which it wore next morning in the columns of his newspaper. +And Ryan, listening, had slowly calmed, calmed to the still fury of +implacable hate. + +But he and Smith had quarreled violently. He was for publishing the +story of his taking off in type as black as the dastardly act. Smith had +a difficult time in holding him down, however much he pointed out that +Ryan had no shadow of proof against his new adversary on the yacht, and +that public sympathy in an affair of this sort was always with the +successful. In the end Smith had carried his point, because he was, of +those two men, both the more wise and the more resolute. But this +morning they had conferred again and quarreled even more bitterly. + +Yet Ryan, plotting in the window of his splendid gin-palace, his eye +always sweeping the evening street as though a-search, was not thinking +of the young editor now. Two other policies for the days to come +monopolized his attention. One of these was crushing victory at the +polls. The other was revenge. Probably in thinking of these, he put them +at the moment in reverse order. + +"Damn him!" he suddenly exploded: and it was not little Hare that he +cursed. "Damn his soul!" + +In the next breath, the boss suddenly ducked, and disappeared from the +half-curtained window altogether. A moment later, he appeared outside +his swinging door, yawning and stretching himself, as one who, wearied +with the tedium of life indoors, would see what beguilement might await +him abroad. + +The boss looked first up the street and permitted his beady eye to range +casually over the view. Then his gaze came slowly down and rested in +time upon the person of James Hackley, now almost directly opposite. The +boss's countenance lit up with a smile of pleased surprise. + +"Why, hello, Jim!" he called out. "Where you been hidin' yourself +lately? Ain't seen you for a week o' Sundays. Come across and pass the +time of day!" + +Mr. Hackley, who had been debating whether or not he should pause for +inspiration at the Ottoman, and had just virtuously declared for the +negative, shambled over. + +Ryan eyed him sympathetically. "You look kind o' played out, Jim. What +you been doin' with yourself? Come in and take a drop of somethin' to +hearten you up some. On the house." + +"Well," said Mr. Hackley, unable to resist the novel fascination of +liquoring gratis, "just a weeny mite for to cut the dust out o' my +windpipe." + +Ryan went behind the bar and served them himself, selecting with care a +bottle which he described as the primest stuff in the house. From this +he poured Hackley a remarkably stiff potation, slightly wetting the +bottom of his own glass the while. The bottle he left standing ready on +the bar. + +"Here's how, friend Jim!" + +Whatever Mr. Hackley's foibles, he was a man at his cups. His platform +was the straight article uncontaminated by ice or flabby +sparkling-water; and chasers and the like of those he left to +schoolboys. + +"Ain't took a drink for days," he said, holding up his glass to the +electric light and squinting through it. "Cut it out religious, I have. +Been settin' around the house, an' settin', under physic'an's orders, +tryin' fer to get my health back so's I could go to moldin' agin. But +Lordamussy, what's the use of torkin'! I ain't no more fitten fer work +than a noo-born baby. Well, here's luck, Ryan!" + +He set his glass down and involuntarily smacked his lips. The fiery +liquid percolated through him down to his very toes. He felt better at +once, more ambitious, less conscious of his constitution. And +simultaneously, he lost something of that indolent good-nature which was +the badge of all his sober hours. + +Ryan regarded him with friendly anxiety. "You gotter be more careful +with yourself, honest! Here--strengthen your holt a little. One little +swallow ain't no help to a man as beat out as you are." + +"As yer like, Dennis," said Mr. Hackley, listlessly. "What I reely need +is a good long rest, like in a 'orspittle." + +Kindly Mr. Ryan filled the small glass almost to the brim; and Hackley, +though he had modestly stipulated for "on'y a drap" tossed it all off +thirstily at a single practised toss. + +"That'll fix you up nice. But ain't I glad," said his host with a sly +chuckle, "that nobody sees you taking these drinks on the quiet, which +_we_ know you need bad for your health." + +Mr. Hackley set down his glass again, this time with something of a +bang. "How's that?" he demanded suspiciously. + +Ryan laughed deprecatingly. While doing so, he manipulated the tall dark +bottle again. + +"Shuh!" said he. "It's only the boys' fun, of course. Don't you mind +_them_, Jim." + +"What're you drivin' at?" asked Hackley, bristling a bit. "If you got +anything worth sayin' to me, spit it out plain, I say." + +"Well," laughed Ryan, "if some of the boys was to see you in here +putting away a harmless drink or so, o' course they'd say that you was +gettin' up your Dutch courage. He, he!" + +"Dutch courage!" cried Mr. Hackley, indignantly. "An' wot the hell fer?" + +"Sh! Not so loud, Jim. Why, it's only their little joke, o' course. +They'd say you was gettin' up your nerve to meet them two friends of +yours from New York! Hey? He, he!" + +"Wot friends?" asked Hackley again, hotly. + +Ryan observed the mounting color on the other's cheek and brow, and his +eye, which was like a small, glossy shoe-button, gleamed. + +"Why, that 'un that killed that dog o' yours, and put you to sleep +before the crowd, and that 'un that sent Mamie Orrick to Gawd knows +where. But shucks! Drop it, Jim. I wouldn't have allooded to it, on'y I +thought you'd see the fun of the thing." + +It takes a philosopher to perceive humor in taunts at his own personal +courage, and Mr. Hackley, with three drinks of the Ottoman's choicest +beneath his tattered waistcoat, was not that kind of man at all. + +He leaned forward against the bar with a belligerence suggesting that he +wished to push it over, pinning his pleasant-spoken host to the wall, +and pounded the top of it till the glasses tingled. + +"Fill her up with the same!" he ordered loudly, looking suddenly, and +for the first time, very much like the rough-looking customer who had +tackled Peter Maginnis in defense of his dog. "An' I'll have you know, +_Mister_ Ryan--I'll have you know, my fine, big, bouncin' buck, that Jim +Hackley ain't afeared of anythink that walks." + +Ryan filled her up again, though this time more conservatively. He was a +keen man and an excellent judge of what was enough. + +"Shuh! Don't _I_ know that, Jim! Why, after that big bloke licked the +stuffin' out of you the other night, the boys said: 'Well, that's the +last o' that little differculty! Jim Hackley'll never foller that up +none,' they says. And what'd I say?" + +"Well, what'd you say?" + +"I says, 'Hell!' I says. 'You boys don't _know_ Jim Hackley!'" + +"I'll interdooce myself to 'em!" said Hackley savagely. "And whoever +says that Maginnis licked me's a liar. You hear me? Tripped my toe on a +rock, I did, and banged all the sense outen my head--" + +"I understand, Jim," interrupted Ryan suavely. "Just what I told the +boys. O' course, just between you an me, I have been kinder took by +surprise that you've waited so long to get your evens. Why, this morning +when the piece came out in the _Gazette_, tellin' the whole town that +the feller's side-partner was that yellow cur-dog Stanhope, I says to +the boys, first thing: 'Boys, we gotter watch Jim Hackley mighty careful +to-day,' says I. 'I'm afeard there'll be gun-play before sunset.' +'Gun-play!' says they. 'F'om Hackley! Hell,' says they. 'You boys,' says +I, 'don't know old Jim like I do!' And then o' course,--he, he!--as the +whole day slipped by and nothin' doin' at all--why, o' course, I won't +deny that they ain't been jollyin' me some." + +Hackley leaned far over the bar, and shook his fist in the boss's face. +"I ain't a man," he shouted, "to be pushed an' a-nagged at in a deal +like this. I takes my time, I makes my plans, I decides on the ways I'll +do it. Do yer pipe to that? An' now I've got ever'think fixed and I'm +ready. Do yer see!" + +The boss, who had retreated a step before that menacing fist, glanced +out of the window and instantly started, this time with an amazement +that was genuine. + +"Why, blast my eyes," he cried, raising a pudgy arm, "if there ain't +that dog Stanhope now!" + +Hackley, following the pointing finger, peered over the green silk +curtain out into the darkening street. A young man, tall and rather +thin, in a blue suit and wide gray-felt hat, was walking slowly and with +a slight limp up the cross street, evidently heading for the Palace +Hotel. + +The two men watched him intently, in a moment of perfect silence. Then +the boss, who was not without a certain dramatic sense, said slowly: + +"_Mamie Orrick's old friend_!" + +A baleful light leaped into Hackley's eyes. He broke away from the bar +with a movement that was like a wrench, and started for the door. + +"I'll fix him," he muttered dourly. "Fix him _good_." + +But Ryan, who wanted something much better than that, sprang around the +bar like lightning, and caught Hackley roughly by the shoulder, at the +door. + +"What, here in the square!" he hissed sharply. "With the po-lice in +sight a'most! Why, you fool, it'll mean the pen for you as sure as your +name's Jim Hackley!" + +Hackley paused, his resolution unsettled by the other's superior +knowledge of the law. + +"No, no, Jim--it won't do," went on Ryan with bland decisiveness. "What +you want is the two of them together, hey?--on a nice dark stretch o' +road, and old Orrick and a few good fellows along to help. You ain't the +only one that's got it in for Stanhope, are you? An' you want Maginnis +too, I guess? Come on in the orfice and talk about it over a seegar." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +IN WHICH VARNEY DOES NOT PAY A VISIT, BUT RECEIVES ONE + +Coligny Smith had told the truth. Peter Maginnis had bought the +_Gazette_, and the _Cyprianl's_ troubles, from this source at any rate, +were at an end. + +Varney found the new proprietor at the hotel, completing a hurried +supper, and Peter hailed him with astonishment and delight. All +afternoon he had been bursting with his great news, eager to get word of +it to Varney on the yacht. But there had been no trustworthy messenger +to send; his own time had been rilled to overflowing, with contracts, +bills of sale and deeds; and, besides, his certain knowledge that +everything was all right made it seem a minor matter that Varney should +know it too. + +"But what the deuce," he exclaimed at once, "brings you at this hour to +the Palace Hotel and Restaurant?" + +"I, too," quoted Varney, "have not been idle." + +As they walked back to the _Gazette_ building, where Peter had still +various details to attend to, he gave a terse epitome of his afternoon's +experiences. At the news that he, too, had sought to buy the paper which +was so determinedly on their trail, Peter chuckled and started to speak; +but when he learned in the next sentence that Hammerton had their +secret at his mercy, his face grew suddenly grave. + +"The rub is," he summed up meditatively, "he may take his walking-papers +rather than let go of such a scoop as that. Of course, he knows that the +New York papers would trample each other to death trying to snatch it +away from him. However, we can fix it somehow. We've got to--that's +all." + +"He'll listen to reason, I dare say," said Varney briefly. "What put it +into your head to try to buy the paper, Peter?" + +They sat in the business manager's little office at the rear of the long +counting-room downstairs, where Peter had thoughtfully paused and +snapped on all the lights. At this question an annoyed look settled +instantly on the new owner's open countenance. + +"No brains of mine," he said shortly. "It's a queer thing." + +He paused to light his battered pipe, which he produced ready-filled +from his pocket, and then said abruptly: + +"Remember that old sneak named Higginson I mentioned to you yesterday? +Well, I bagged the idea from him. When I hit town this afternoon the +first thing I heard was that Higginson was going to buy the +_Gazette_--had bought it, some said." + +"_Higginson!_" Varney stared. "What the mischief did he want with the +_Gazette?_" + +"Echo answers. No good to us, you can bet," said Peter grimly. "Gave it +out, I believe, that he was acting for a syndicate of New Yorkers who +expected flush times with the change of administration, and were +rushing to get in on the ground floor. You can believe that if you want +to. To me it sounds too fishy to do even a beginner credit. You could +wake me up in the middle of the night and I could put over a better one +than that. However," he continued, frowning, "to get back to my story. +When I heard what Higginson was up to, it naturally flashed into my mind +that it would be a mighty convenient thing if I owned the _Gazette_ +myself, instead of him. I raced off to Smith on the chance, shot an +offer at him from the door and to my surprise he accepted it--right off +the bat, cool as though the deal were for half a dozen copies of +yesterday's issue--" + +"You got in ahead of Higginson, then?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter. "And that's another queer thing--about +Smith, I mean. Higginson had been in and made him an offer an hour ahead +of me, and the fellow had turned him down flat. Yet I happen to know +that the price I offered was under Higginson's by a pretty good year's +income. Now what d' you think of that?" + +Varney was silent a moment. "Smith wants a new deal all around, I +imagine," he said slowly. "He knew that you would make the _Gazette_ an +honest paper; he didn't know anything of the sort about the other man. +Probably he knew just the contrary. Bully for Smith, I say! But what do +you make of this chap Higginson?" + +"Search me," said Peter, rather impatiently. "He's clearly imported by +Ryan for some definite purpose, but just what his game is beats me. +There'll be more developments, of course. After I'd signed up with Smith +I spent half an hour of valuable time looking for the rascal, but +couldn't find a footprint anywhere. He seems to have a special gift for +appearing and disappearing. If he decides to stay with us, though, he'll +explain himself to me to-morrow, or I'll know the reason why." + +"Well, you've already pulled his teeth, haven't you? This little +purchase of yours knocks the wind out of his sails in any event." + +"I wish I could be sure of that." + +"And, by the way, that reminds me. Of course I'm in on this, you +understand--on what you paid for the _Gazette_." + +"Not on my account," said Peter frankly. "When this town starts booming, +as it will in eight days from date--Higginson had that part of it right, +anyway--the _Gazette's_ going to be the prettiest little property you +ever saw in your life. I saw it first and you will kindly back away off +the grass. By the bye," he went on, "the lunch to-morrow. Hare and his +sister both accepted--two o'clock. You ought to have seen Hare's face +when I told him we owned this little old _Gazette_. Worth the price of +admission alone--he'd been hot as a stove all day about that story this +morning. I asked Mrs. Marne whether Miss Carstairs had happened to say +anything about coming, but she hadn't seen her to-day at all. I guess +there won't be any trouble in that quarter, though, when she gets +through reading the paper's apologies to-morrow." + +"I don't know," said Varney. "I am going to her house to-night to find +out." + +"Why?" said Peter, surprised. "What do you think we bought this paper +for, anyway?" + +"The great trouble is that she may not believe the paper. This is +important, you see. The whole thing hinges on whether or not she is +coming to lunch with us. The only way I can be certain that she is +coming is to have her tell me so." + +Peter jingled his keys. "Of course, we don't want to take chances, +but--" + +"Another thing," said Varney. "She promised to lunch with Stanhope--the +celebrity--not me, you know." + +"H'm," said Peter cogitatively, and added: "I guess you're right. I'm +sure everything's all serene, but it'll do no harm to press a call. +Well! I must fly upstairs for a while and see how things are going." + +"What about the _Daily?_" + +"That's what I've got to do right now--settle the _Daily_ and dictate a +strong _Gazette_ story for to-morrow's issue, stripping the socks off +the Stanhope lie and all that. I've got to show the boys upstairs +exactly how we want the whole thing, handled." + +"Fire away, old top." + +"It's all sketched out in my mind," continued Peter, rising. "Did it at +the hotel over my chuck-steak. I won't be long. You wait here for me, +will you? I've chartered an automobile for a week and I'll run you up to +the Carstairs house and wait outside till you're ready to go back to the +yacht." + +"Why these civilities, my son?" + +"The fact is," said Peter, a little reluctantly, "that story this +morning seems to have pulled open a lot of old sores, just as it was +meant to. Hare's picked up some loose odds and ends of talk about town +to-day. I noticed two men hanging around here as we came in just now who +didn't look right to me. I can't get it out of my head that there's +something in the wind to-night, and Higginson's back of it. Anyway, +there's no use of running needless risks, now that we've practically got +a strangle-hold on the whole proposition." + +Varney glanced at his watch. "Right for you. It's too early to call yet, +anyway. I'll wait." + +"Correct," said Peter at the door. "One last item of news. Stanhope +himself, the real one, is coming to-morrow." + +"Here--to stay?" + +Peter nodded. "The caretaker of his cottage told Hare--told him not to +tell a soul. But I don't believe he'll stay long. The fellow's clearly a +fool as well as a dog." + +"We ought to warn him how things stand here," said Varney, "no matter +what kind of person he is. You and I know that we 've made matters a +good deal worse for him." + +"He's made them a good deal worse for us, also. But I'll see that he's +promptly advised to leave while the leaving's good. Back in an hour at +the farthest." + +Peter tramped off down the passageway, banging the front door behind +him; and Varney was left alone in the little office to attend his +return. At once it came to him that this was exactly what he had been +doing ever since he had been in Hunston,--waiting for Peter. + +"I am the greatest waiter that the human race has yet produced," he +thought, despondently, and dropping down into a chair, stared long at +the shut door. + +What a day it had been!--beginning with cut-and-dried little plans that +seemed sure, running off in the middle into black depths of hopeless +complications, blossoming suddenly into unlooked-for triumph. Yes, +complete triumph at last. The visit that he meant to pay a little later +was merely an added precaution; he felt no doubts as to how matters +would turn out now. To-morrow, the _Gazette_, Peter's paper, would set +him square before all Hunston, and Mary Carstairs, sorry for the wrong +she had done him, would come to the yacht as she had engaged to do. With +the clairvoyance born of his swift revulsion of feeling, he knew that +his victory was already won. Yet he did not feel now as a conqueror +feels. In the loneliness of the tight-shut little office, he confronted +the knowledge that he did not think of Uncle Elbert's daughter as his +enemy, and that it mattered to him that she was to hate him and worse.... + +Suddenly in the entire stillness, he heard a sound close by, and +straightened up sharply. Some one was gently trying the front door. He +felt quite sure of it. He got up quickly and quietly, and hurried down +the passageway to the front; but there was nothing to be seen. + +Outside, the street, from the brilliantly-lighted room, looked inky +black. He stood a moment listening intently. He thought he heard +footsteps not far away, swiftly receding, but he could not be sure. Then +he remembered the men that Peter had seen in the street a little while +before, and understood. + +Somebody was watching him, apparently waiting for a chance. Those whom +Stanhope had wronged had been spurred to square the old account, and the +_Gazette's_ canard had not been undone yet. He yearned to dash after +those retreating footsteps and find out who was the prudent proprietor +of them. But even to stand here was hardly fair to Elbert Carstairs. + +"How can I go sailing to-morrow," he said aloud, musingly, "if I'm laid +up in a hospital, or laid out in the morgue?" + +He went back to his office, shut himself in again; and with the closing +of the door he shut out all thought of the enemies of Ferris Stanhope. +Soon his mind broke away from him, and went galloping off to the morrow. +Great vividness marked the pictures that danced before the eye of his +thought. Now the luncheon, the planned and fought for, was over. They +were there, strung out gayly along deck,--Mrs. Marne, Hare, Peter, Mary +Carstairs, and he. Then, by some deft stratagem, the others were gone +and he was sitting alone by Mary at the rail. The _Cypriani_ was slowly +moving, as though for a ten-minute spin down the river. And then, as she +gathered headway, he turned suddenly to Mary and told her everything: +how he had deceived and tricked her, and how she would not go back to +Hunston that afternoon.... + +It might have been ten minutes that he sat like this. It might have been +half an hour. But after a time he heard, suddenly and distinctly, that +noise at the door again. + +There was the less doubt about it this time, in that the shutting of the +door was now clearly audible, and there followed the distinct sound of +some one moving in the main office. Then the door in the passageway +swung open and footsteps pattered, coming nearer. The light firm steps +drew nearer, halted; and there came a small rap upon his door. + +"Come in," he called loudly, encouragingly. "I'm here, all right. Come +in." + +The door opened, a little slowly, as though not quite certain whether it +was going to open or not, and Mary Carstairs stood upon the threshold, +silhouetted in the sudden frame. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +WHEREIN SEVERAL LARGE DIFFICULTIES ARE SMOOTHED AWAY + +He had sat upright, his hands over his chair-arms, his mind and muscle +tense; but at that unbelievable sight, he fell back in his chair +relaxed, staring and dazed like one who sees a goddess in a vision. + +"Good evening," said this goddess, looking decidedly embarrassed and +remarkably pretty. "I--I am so glad that we've found you." + +"You were looking for _me_?" he said incredulous, utterly mystified; and +the instinct of long training, working on with no guidance from him, +impelled him to rise with a stiff and somewhat belated bow. + +"Yes. And there are two men with me who are anxious to help...." + +Her fragrant presence seemed to fill and transform the dingy office; and +he was at once aware that her manner had lost that cool remoteness which +at their last meeting had set him so far away. + +He pulled himself sharply together, entirely missing the implication in +her speech, and struck abruptly to the one point that mattered. + +"Some one has convinced you since last night that I am not that man." + +"Yes," she answered, looking away from him with faintly heightened +color. "I--I must ask you to forgive me for--last night." + +He bowed stiffly from behind the table. + +"But who--if I may know--persuaded you, where I appeared so--" + +"My mother," she said, simply. "She caught a glimpse of you on the +street yesterday. I did not know of it till to-day--never dreamed that +she knew you. I'm glad," she added hurriedly, resolutely contrite, "of +the chance to--to say this--" + +"It is extraordinarily kind," said Varney. He looked at her steadily, as +far from understanding the mystery of her coming as ever. + +"But I came," she went on at once, as though reading the question in his +eyes, "for quite another reason. We happened to stop just now at poor +Jim Hackley's." + +The name riveted his attention. A quality in her voice had already told +him that something troubled her. + +"At Hackley's?" + +She stood just behind Peter's deserted chair and rested her ungloved +right hand upon it. He noticed, as though it were a matter which was +going to be vital to him later on, that she wore no rings, and that +there was a tiny white spot on the nail of her thumb. + +"Some men are waiting on this dark street somewhere, Mr. Varney," she +began hurriedly, "waiting, I'm afraid, for you to come out--four or +five--I don't know how many. You know--what that means. But oh, it isn't +their fault!--they don't know any better, you see!--" + +The sudden anxiety in her voice cleared his wits and braced him like a +tonic: and so he came front to front with the fact that it was to help +him--to help _him_--that Uncle Elbert's daughter had come to the +_Gazette_ office that night. + +"I appreciate that perfectly, of course. But--the rest is not so clear. +I don't quite understand--how did you happen to learn of this?" + +"I? Oh, my learning about it was the purest chance. It was told me two +minutes ago by a visitor here, a Mr. Higginson, whom I met last night. +He is outside in the car now, and--" + +"Mr. Higginson!" echoed Varney, astounded. + +"You know him, perhaps?" + +"I? Oh, no--no. But I interrupted you. Do go on and tell me--" + +She began to speak rapidly and earnestly: + +"This afternoon I went motoring, I and a friend of mine--Mr. John +Richards. We took a wrong turn coming back, and of course were horribly +late. But at the edge of the square we stopped a minute to inquire about +Mrs. Hackley, who was taken quite ill yesterday afternoon. Just as I was +getting back into the car, up ran this Mr. Higginson, very much +flustered and excited. You see, he had just found out about all +this--this plot--even to knowing where you were; he had seen poor Jim +Hackley, it seems, not at all himself, and overheard him talking. Of +course, we saw that you must be warned at once, so we took him in the +car, and all three of us ran back here." + +She paused a moment, and he prompted her with a close-clipped: "Yes?" + +"I wanted him to--come in and tell you about it," she said +hesitatingly--"but he wouldn't do it. He is a most agreeable old man, +but, I imagine--of a very nervous temperament. So," she added with a +hurried little laugh, "as I was the only one who--knew you, I said that +I would come in and tell you myself." + +"It was most kind--most kind of you all." + +He turned away sharply to hide his sudden rush of indignation and +resentment. Turbulently he longed to get his hands upon the sly +Higginson, who had had the effrontery to dispatch a woman to protect +him, and this woman of all others that lived in Hunston.... Protect +him? Hardly. That an attack had been planned against his person was, +indeed, likely enough, but not that any hireling of Ryan's should rush +forward hysterically to pluck him from his peril. What move in that +mysterious game, what strange plot within a plot was here?... + +"Did Mr. Higginson happen to explain why he took such a generous, and I +fear very troublesome, interest in my welfare?" + +Genuinely anxious for light, he tried to iron all suggestion of a sneer +out of his voice, but evidently he did not quite succeed. + +"Oh, I don't think you ought to speak that way! Surely he has done only +what anybody would do for any stranger who was in danger and didn't know +it." + +"And you?" + +She looked at him rather shyly out of her somewhat spectacular eyes. + +"That explains me, too--if you wish." + +"Maginnis and I," said Varney immediately, "are not going out for some +time yet. Oh, a long, long time! These poor fellows you speak of will +tire of waiting long before that. And when we do go--" + +"You must not go together." + +"I don't think I understand you." + +"Don't you see," she said, speaking very earnestly, "that that is +exactly what they are hoping for? This ambuscade didn't just happen--it +is manufactured--it is politics. Men like these haven't the initiative, +or whatever you call it, to get up a thing of this sort. Some one has +done it for them. Don't you know why? _They want to get rid of Mr. +Maginnis_. But they can't hurt him _alone_--without having it brought +right home to them--to the politicians. With you--it is--different--" + +"Yes, yes--I see. But forgive my asking--did Mr. Higginson explain the +situation to you in just this way?" + +"Mr. Higginson?" she said, plainly surprised at his harking back to +that. "It was not necessary. I understood the situation very well, from +what Mr. Hare has told me. Mr. Higginson simply gave us the facts about +these men hiding out there--there was no time for anything more." + +He was staring at her with unconscious steadiness, and now his face took +on a slow faint smile, which she was very far from understanding. Blurry +as it all still was, light was beginning to break through upon him. Of +course, that was all that Mr. Higginson had told her. Of course. The +last thing desired by that clever rogue, who used petticoats for +stalking-horses and was not above hiding behind them for the safety of +his own skin, was for the engineered "attack" to go off prematurely, +landing only Varney and failing to "get" Maginnis. Warnings that the two +should _not_ go out together from Higginson? Hardly. + +"I understand perfectly. Maginnis is quite safe without me, but not at +all safe with me. You may count upon me absolutely. I'll give him the +slip and leave here alone." + +"You mustn't do anything of the kind," said Mary sharply. + +She looked at him, unsmiling, eye to eye like a man; but she looked from +under a fantastic and exceedingly becoming little hat, swathed all about +with a wholly fascinating gray veil. Her skin was of an exquisite +freshness, which threw into sharp relief the vivid coloring of her lips; +the modeling of her cheek and throat was consummate, beyond improvement; +and her eyes--he told himself that they could have no match anywhere. + +Varney laughed shortly. "I am not to go out with Maginnis. I am not to +go out without him. May I ask if I am expected to spend thnight +prudently curled up under the office table here?" + +The situation was odious to him; he knew that his manner betrayed it; +but if she was aware of this she gave no sign. On the contrary her face +all at once became miraculously sweet. + +"You aren't thinking that there's any question of courage mixed up in +this, Mr. Varney? Indeed, indeed, there is not. They would fight in the +dark; they would fight from behind. The very _bravest_ men would have no +chance, and very brave men don't take foolish risks, do they? I know by +Mr. Hare. Mr. Varney, I have a little plan." + +"Indeed? Do tell me." + +"Our car is at the door, you know--Mr. Richards's car. We'd both like it +very much if you would come with us." + +"Where?" + +"Well--I thought that perhaps you'd come to my house. Only to get rid of +these men and not to--get them into any trouble. Of course, no one in +Hunston would annoy you when you were with me." + +If he had hated the thought of accepting protection from Mary Carstairs +less intensely, he might have laughed aloud. As Higginson's catspaw, she +was certainly the most screaming failure that the whole world could have +yielded. What, oh what, would the old gum-shoe have said if he could +have heard that invitation? + +"Thank you, but that is quite impossible." + +"I am awfully sorry." + +There was a faint stiffening in her manner. She began to draw on her +right glove, slowly tucking out of sight the thumb with the tiny white +spot on the nail. + +"I hoped that perhaps you might come to dinner with us. I haven't had +any yet. May I--suggest another way out of all this, then? There is a +back gate to this place, leading into a kind of alley, you know. I am +sure that they--these poor men--haven't thought of that. Couldn't you +please go out--" + +"Certainly," said Varney. "Certainly. Yes, indeed. I'll do +anything--anything in the wide world to avoid getting thumped on the +head with Mr. Hackley's walking-stick." + +Her face told him that she found his tone and manner somewhat +disconcerting, but she took no notice of it otherwise. + +"I hope it won't be necessary to do anything more than that. But if it +should be, I hope you'll do it. I'm afraid I've failed to make you see +that this is really serious. Good-night." + +But Varney, having a question to ask her, could not let her go yet. + +"But--but," he said, hastily, "you must allow me to thank you--you and +Mr. Higginson--" + +"The thanks are all Mr. Higginson's. I'm only a messenger--and besides, +you aren't grateful at all, you know! You think we've all been +_extremely_ intrusive!" She smiled brightly, bowed, and then was +suddenly checked by a new thought. "Oh--I wonder if you would tell me +something before I go?" + +"By all means," said Varney, having no idea whether he would or not. + +But the loud jangling whir of a telephone bell from the adjoining room +cut into the air, drowning out conversation; and it rang on and on and +on as though Central had had her orders. + +"I suppose I'll have to answer that to shut them up," he said. "Excuse +me for the merest second, won't you?" + +He passed through into the brightly-lit business office beyond, and +found the telephone, still ringing away on a desk at the farther end. +Behind him the door swung shut, a circumstance for which he later had +reason to be glad. + +"Well?" he called impatiently. + +"You, Larry?" asked a familiar voice. + +"Yes. What's the matter?" + +"Matter enough," said Peter in a guarded undertone. "Hammerton's loose." + +"_What_!" + +"It's a fact. God knows how he did it; but he's just phoned in here from +a house a long way down the road. Wanted to let the city editor know he +was flying in with the one best bet of the year. Luckily he gave no +details." + +Varney's lips tightened; he spoke in a low voice. "He mustn't +arrive--not till I've seen him first. Did you find out how he's +coming--river or road?" + +"Trust Uncle Dudley. He's borrowed a bicycle and is burning up the River +road with it." + +"Good. How soon will you be through?" + +"About three minutes." + +"You've hired a motor, you said? Get it and run back here as soon as you +can, will you?" + +He rapidly explained the situation, though making no mention of +Higginson: how somebody had plotted to get them together in the darkness +of Main Street, how Miss Carstairs and her friend had kindly stopped to +warn them, and how he had humored her by promising to take all sorts of +precautions. + +"Right-O," said Peter. "I'll be in the alley at the back in no time. +Come quick when I honk three times." + +Varney came back into the little office where Mary Carstairs waited, +fresh from more cheap plotting in which she was the innocent central +figure; and faced her, uncomfortable, ill at ease, disquieted inwardly +as a conspirator taken red-handed. + +"It was Maginnis--upstairs," he explained awkwardly. + +"Yes?" she said indifferently, and resumed the buttoning of her glove. +"And will you tell me something now? It has been on my mind since last +night." + +"Certainly." + +"Who was it that spoke of me to you and made you think that I was a +little girl?" + +He was entirely taken aback by the question; but he could have parried +it easily, and he knew it. However, he was heartily sick of subterfuge +for that night. + +"It was your father," he said bluntly. + +"My father!" She stood silent a moment, slim hands interlocked before +her, heavily fringed eyes lowered. "So you know them both--my mother and +my father. Then--the mistake--about my age," she added with something of +an effort, "was natural enough. I have not seen my father for many +years." + +"I see him," said he, "constantly. Your father and I are great chums." A +sudden insane hope overwhelmed him, and he went on with a rush: "You +know, or rather probably you don't know, that he and my mother were old +friends; and I am proud to have fallen heir to the friendship. You say +that you have not seen him for some time? He is growing older very fast +this last year or two; he is much changed of late. And then, Miss +Carstairs, he is desperately lonely, all by himself in that great house +of his--" + +"_Stop_!" cried Mary Carstairs, with quick passionateness. "Stop! You +are trying to make me feel sorry for my father." + +"Well," he said, as stormy as she, "_you ought to_! But your friends are +waiting. I must not detain you any longer." + +At the curtness of his speech a very faint wave of color ran up her +cheek; and when he saw this he was sorry and glad in a single breath. At +least, she could not say afterwards that he had ever tried to make +himself falsely civil and lyingly agreeable. "Yes, I have stayed very +much too long already. You've promised that you will be careful, haven't +you? I'm really too sorry," she said, from the door, "that your visit to +Hunston should have been made disagreeable in all these ways." + +"In the name of heaven," he said, stung into momentary recklessness, +"you don't suppose that I came here expecting any _fun_!" + +"Why--I had understood that it was purely a pleasure-trip that brought +you here!" + +He made no answer to this, but stepped forward and swung open the door +for her. + +"Maginnis," he said, "is to call for me immediately in a motor. We +shall leave by the unobtrusive back alley. Two men, a motor, and a dark +rear exit. You will scarcely imagine that there is any danger now. But +may I thank you again for giving us warning when there _was_, perhaps, +some danger?" + +"So you think there is a 'perhaps'? If you take precautions, it is only +to humor a--" + +"I withdraw that 'perhaps,'" he broke out in a rush. "I blot it out, +annihilate it. Who am I to catch at tatters of self-respect? Are you +blind? Can't you see that every fiber of me is tingling with the +knowledge that there was real danger, and that you saved me from it?" + +The quick bitterness in his voice, which there was no missing, was the +last straw, breaking through her reserve, demolishing her dainty +aloofness. She shook the swinging gray veil back out of her eyes and +looked up at him, openly and frankly bewildered, looking very young and +immeasurably alluring. + +"Will you tell me why you speak in that way? Will you tell me why it is +the worst thing that has happened to you in Hunston to have been helped +a little by me?" + +They faced each other at the open door, not an arm's length between +them; and the moment of his reckoning for the quarter of an hour he had +spent with her that night was suddenly upon him. He met her eyes, which +were darkly blue, stared down into them; and as he did so, the spell of +her beauty treacherously closed round him, piping away his self-control, +deadening him to the iron fact of who she was and who he was, shutting +out all knowledge except that of her fragrant nearness. + +"It is absurd," he answered her suddenly, "but to save my life I can't +decide whether you are tall or short." + +The front door came open with a bang; the noise brought him sharply to +himself; and the next moment a pleasant impatient masculine voice called +out: + +"I say, Miss Carstairs! Er--everything all right?" + +"Oh!--yes, Mr. Richards!" she called penitently. "I'm coming this +minute. No, please don't go out with me, Mr. Varney. Don't let anybody +see that you are here." + +"Certainly not," said he, struggling for a poise which he could not +quite recapture. "Then will you be good enough to convey my gratitude to +Mr. Higginson and say that I hope to have the opportunity of thanking +him personally to-morrow?" + +"Yes, of course. Good-night once more--and good luck!" + +But he detained her long enough to put the plain business question which +had been torturing his soul for the last twenty-four hours. + +"We shall see you at luncheon to-morrow?" + +He strove to give his remark the air of a mere commonplace of farewell; +but at it, he saw her look break away from his and the warm color stream +into her face. + +"Why--I--I'll come with pleasure. We don't get the chance to lunch on +yachts every day in Hunston. Oh, but please," she exclaimed, her +embarrassment suddenly melting in a very natural and charming +smile--"never let my mother _dream_ that we've _not been introduced!_" + +He bowed low so that she might not see the burlesque of polite pleasure +on his face. + + * * * * * + +The back alley exit proved all that the most timorous could have +desired. Peter approached it by an elusive detour; Varney appeared +promptly at the sound of his three honks; and the rendezvous was +effected in a black darkness which they seemed to have entirely to +themselves. Not a hand was raised to them, not a threatening figure +sprang up to dispute their going, not a fierce curse cursed them. The +would-be assassins, if such there were, presumably still lurked in some +Main Street cranny, patiently and stupidly waiting, entirely unaware +that they had been neatly outwitted by the clever strategies of Miss +Mary Carstairs. + +The car rolled noiselessly out of the alley, skimmed off through the +southern quarter of the town and bowled into the rough and rutty River +road toward the yacht. Once there, since a sharp lookout for the +reporter was necessary, they slowed down and down until the smooth +little car, with all lights out, crawled along no faster than a vigorous +man will walk. + +"What're you going to do when we catch him?" asked Peter. "Want to haul +him on back to the yacht?" + +"No. I'm--only going to talk to him a little. Go on with the story." + +"Well," resumed Peter, taking one hand from the driving-wheel to remove +a genuine Connecticut Havana, "the first thing was a wire from the +_Daily_ firing Hammerton. That assisted a little, of course. Then, they +asked us to give them a new, good man at once, and meantime to push +along all the story we had. We answered with a wire that was a beauty, +if I do mention it myself, telling them exactly how they'd been sold a +second-hand gold brick by a corrupt paper which was trying to play +politics. It simply knocked the pins from under them. It took 'em quite +a while to come back with inquiries about the name off the yacht, +Varney's air of mystery and all that line of slush. My response was +vigorous, yet gentlemanly, straining the truth for all she'd stand, and +even bu'sting her open here and there, I gravely fear. However, it was a +clincher. It crimped them right. Not a peep have we had from 'em since." + +"I suppose they'll run four lines on the thirteenth page to-morrow +explaining it was all a mistake." + +"But that wasn't the serious part of the thing--not by a mile-walk," +continued Peter, the shine of victory in his honest eyes. "Am I still in +the road? Sing out if you see me taking to the woods, will you? The more +I think of what you and I have missed by a shave, the more I'm likely to +feel sick in the stomach. You know those rascals had already begun +asking for orders all over the country--they were so sure they'd have a +hot story to send out. Not only that, but a lot of papers wired for it +without being asked. It looked as if every newspaper office in America +that had got a glimpse at the _Daily_ this morning instantly got dead +stuck on that story. I stood at the telegraph desk and watched the +accursed things come in, like this: '500 words story involving Stanhope, +Rochester _Tribune_.' 'No. 3.--' That was the number of our story on the +query list.--'No. 3.--Full details, Chicago _Ledger_.' 'No. 3--1000 +words, Philadelphia _Journal_.' And so on and on. It looked uncanny, I +tell you--all those far-away people calling for information about our +affairs just like old friends. Will you kindly let your mind play about +that a minute, Laurence? Will you kindly think of a situation like that +with Ryan and Coligny Smith handling it as their little whimseys +dictated?" + +"I'd rather not. You wired those papers that the story was a canard and +all that, I suppose?" + +"No!" roared Peter, "I did something a whole lot better than that. I had +one of the men write a hot political story about the _Gazette_ and the +change of management and the sudden rise of Reform. There's _news_ in +that, don't you see?--and it was the Stanhope-Varney story, too--the +real one. When I left the office, they were selling it like hot cakes, +all over the country--all over the world--" + +"Hold on!" said Varney, sharply. "Here's Hammerton, I think--bringing in +a whole lot better story than yours!" + +The road here was straight as a string stretched tight. Far down it, +they saw a single small light, dancing towards them a foot or two above +the ground. + +Peter threw off his clutch, clapped on his brakes and stopped short. +Varney slid out of the seat and stood waiting in the black inkiness +beside the unlighted car. In the sudden stillness they could hear the +rattle of the bicycle chain and even the crunch of the hard-blown tires, +spinning rapidly over the road. Now the light was perhaps a hundred +yards away. + +"Blow!" hispered Varney. + +The horn's honk cut the silent air hoarsely. Instantly the speed of the +oncoming light was checked. It advanced steadily, but much more slowly, +as though the rider sensed that his road might be blocked, but could not +yet determine where the hidden obstacle might be. + +"Hello!" called a lusty young voice suddenly. "Who's there?" + +There was no answer. The light came on more slowly still. Now it was +fifty yards away, now twenty, now ten. Varney stepped out of the +blackness, directly in front of it, and seized both handle-bars in +fingers that gripped like a vise. The shock of the sudden stopping all +but cost the rider his seat. + +"May I detain you one moment, please, Mr. Hammerton?" + +The little light of the bicycle lamp was all concentrated downward. +Above that round yellow ray, faces were unrecognizable in the pitchy +blackness. The voice, however, was unmistakable. Hammerton was off the +back of his wheel in the wink of an eye, on a sudden desperate bolt for +the woods. + +Peter, still on the driver's seat, and seeing neither his friend nor his +enemy, saw the light with the bicycle behind it go over with a crash. +That was when Varney's hands let go of the handle-bars. The next instant +they fell upon Hammerton's withdrawing figure and brought it up with a +sharp jerk. + +Peter heard the ensuing struggle, but saw nothing. He paid Varney the +tribute of sitting still in his seat and saying not a word. The contest +was bitter, but brief. Hammerton fought wildly, but Varney's arms +presently closed round him, squeezing the life out of him. Locked fast +in each other's arms, they fell heavily, Hammerton underneath. Varney +freed his legs with a swift wrench, swung round and came up riding upon +the other's chest. + +Charlie Hammerton was beaten and knew it. His body lay along the rocky +road, inert and unresisting. He breathed in convulsive gasps, but apart +from that, now that he was down, he never moved. He was as tired as a +man well could be. Varney sitting closely upon him, holding him fast, +felt that the reporter's clothes were wringing wet. However, he had him, +and the _Cypriani's_ great secret was once more in captivity. + +The eyes of the two men strained into the dark where each other's faces +must be, but they saw nothing. + +"It's all up with you, Hammerton," said Varney presently. "The _Daily_ +fired you an hour ago." + +"Thanks to you," said Hammerton doggedly. "But if you think that lets +_you_ out, you're a bigger fool than I thought." + +"That is not all," said Varney slowly. "The _Gazette_ has fired you, +too." + +The reporter swore bitterly beneath his breath: curiously enough, he +did not seem to question the statement for a moment. "What of it?" he +cried. "You don't think that'll stop my mouth, do you--you _devil_!" + +"There is still something more. Maginnis has bought the _Gazette_. He +and I own the news of this town now. Coligny Smith is fired, too. The +_Gazette_ starts an honest life to-morrow, and the old dirty regime is +over forever." + +"Liar!" cried Hammerton, hoarsely. "Liar!" but there was no conviction +in the mad resentment of his voice. + +"No," said Varney, without anger. "I am telling you the truth and you +know it." + +"Well--there are other papers,--other towns," cried Hammerton +passionately. "What I've got on you will sell anywhere. Why, damn you, +_damn you, damn you_--don't you know you'll have to kill me to hush this +up?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to make +a friend of you. I'm going to make you editor of the _Gazette_ in +Smith's place with double your present salary and an interest in the +paper." + +There was black silence, more thrilling than any speech. + +"Will you take it?" asked Varney. + +Then the boy's overstrained self-command snapped like a bow-string and +his breast shook with sudden hysteria. "Will I take it?" he cried with a +gasping laugh that was rather more like a sob. "Will I take the Court +of St. James? Will I take money from home? Oh, my God, will I take it!" + +"Hooray!" rang Peter's great voice out of the gloom. "Hip, hip, hooray +for Editor Hammerton!" + +Peter's tribute, in reality, was not so much for Hammerton's acceptance +as for the astonishing neatness with which Varney had disposed of the +editorship of _his_ paper. But to Varney, rising limply from Hammerton's +chest at the edge of the dark road, that cheer meant only that he had +kicked the last obstacle out of his path and that he and Mary were going +to New York to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +A LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY ON THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +The expectation appeared thoroughly conservative: not a cloud so large +as a man's hand any longer darkened the horizon. At two o'clock next day +Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ rode gayly at her old anchorage. At the rail +stood Varney and Maginnis, hosts of pleasant and guileless mien, their +eyes upon the trim gig which came dancing over the water toward them. In +the gig sat J. Pinkney Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne, blithely coming +to lunch aboard with their two new friends. + +The yacht's return to Hunston had been in all ways different from her +going. She had slipped away like the hunted thing she was, running to +cover with a hold full of fears, shying at every craft that passed, and +yelled after from the shore by a stoutish young man with inimical +opinions in his eye. She had steamed back, early this morning, not +merely without fear, but proudly, her whistle screaming for the +lime-light, her fore-truck flying, so to say, the burgee of vindication; +and the stoutish and inimical young man had come aboard for breakfast +with his new employer at nine o'clock sharp. Such was the measure of the +whitewashing work accomplished by three columns in Mr. Maginnis's +_Gazette_ that morning. + +Of the "news value" of those astonishing columns, "the author's double" +(as the _Gazette's_ converted reporters felicitously dubbed him) had had +abundant evidence in the many glances that followed him upon the streets +of Hunston that morning. Varney's errand in town had had to do with +Tommy Orrick. Some search was needed to find the transient tenant of +Kerrigan's loft; but when he was finally located the matter of homes in +New York was discussed and settled in the most satisfactory way in the +world. It was decided that Tommy should remove his Penates to the city +that very evening, where he was to be met at Forty-second Street by a +Mr. Horace O'Hara, an interesting personage who had once been a burglar +but was now in the fish and vegetable way at Fulton Market. Together +they would make their way to the Home. Future plans had to do with an +educative course at the graded schools and other matters so strange and +exalted that one could not hear them mentioned without experiencing the +most benumbing abashment. + +The two good friends parted with a handshake, enforced by the young +man--a unique ceremonial which filled the small breast of Thomas with a +conflict of strange emotions; and Varney, having dispatched a telegram +to Mr. O'Hara, and another to Mrs. Marie Duval, who had the home with no +boys in it on 117th Street, had at once turned his face back to the +yacht. He chose the woodland path for his walk, which struck straight +down from the handsome residence street and skirted the river at a +point near the _Cypriani's_ anchorage; and here an incident of interest +befell him. As he sauntered down the path, conscious of a sudden curious +loss of spirits, his attention was caught by the blurred sound of voices +from the street, some fifty yards behind him; and presently the vague +rumble crystallized into something like this: + +"... Infernal absence of livery ... Far ... station-master fellow say +it was, Henry?" + +The voice was masculine, carefully modulated, decidedly elegant. A +different sort of voice gave answer: + +"'E said, sir ... mile, but knowing the hodd way they count distances +away from the cities, sir, I'm 'ardly 'oping to see it under two +mile--hif that." + +Varney idly turned. The woods were thick just ahead of him, cutting off +all view of the street; but further on, to the north, there was a break +in the leafy wall, revealing a small slit of patent cement sidewalk. +Soon, as he watched, two pedestrians stepped into view within this frame +of foliage: a tall immaculate-looking man swinging a trim cane, and +behind him a stocky, middle-sized, black-garbed fellow struggling along +under two suit-cases and a roll of umbrellas. In three steps they had +passed across the little open space and were again lost behind the +trees, their voices running once more into an indistinguishable rumble. + +Varney, halting in the path, had little doubt who the tall man was. It +was Ferris Stanhope, returning to the home of his boyhood and sublimely +unaware of the nature of the reception which awaited him. + +Cordially as Varney loathed the great author, he had no wish to see him +taken by surprise and beaten to a pulp by mob-law. Moreover, if anything +like that happened, he and Peter would be largely responsible, since the +present excitement of feeling had been largely worked up for their +benefit. He had half a mind to go straight after the _insouciant_ +visitor now, unpleasant as it would be to have to speak to him, and give +him the fair warning he was entitled to. But he dismissed the impulse as +plainly overdoing his duty: the man was in no possible danger in broad +daylight, and Peter had already promised that he would attend to the +warning business himself. + +Now, as they stood calmly chatting at the rail under the brilliant sky, +he told Peter of the author's arrival, and dutifully reminded him of +that promise. Peter renewed it, without enthusiasm. His eyes rested on +the approaching gig with a kind of fascination; and Varney followed his +gaze. + +"Isn't Hare dressy, though! Frock-coat and all that ..." + +"Yes ... He'll add a needed touch of elegance to the somber setting of +the drama." + +"By the way," said Varney presently, "how did Hammerton get away last +night? I believe Ferguson's been dodging me all day, but the fact is +I've never given it a thought." + +Peter laughed. + +"He's sharp as a tack, that boy is. He played dead till old Ferguson got +first interested, then nervous, and lastly careless. Lay there two hours +without moving; breathed as little as he could do with, and at long +intervals fluttered one eyelid and took a peep how the land lay. After a +while there came a time when the door was left wide open and only one +deckhand in sight. Hammerton floored him with a chair from behind, and +jumped over the rail. She happened to be moving close inshore at the +time, and he was in the woods before the fatheads even got a boat down." + +Varney echoed his laugh absently. All morning, since his return from +Hunston, he had felt himself enfolded by a mysterious despondency, which +he had seemed unable either to account for or to shake off. But now, as +the final climax of his business drew near to summon him, he felt his +spirits inexplicably rising again. A certain excitement possessed him; +he was glad that at last his hour had come. + +Hardly listening to Peter, he was running over in the most business-like +way the little scheme, mapped out and rehearsed together that morning, +by which the two superfluous guests, the mere "sleepers" in the +orchestra, were to be detached at the proper moment. Yes, certainly; it +was sound and would hold water. So would everything else. Peter's things +had gone ashore two hours before, for he was to remain in Hunston. +Everything had been provided for; the last detail systematically +arranged. A surer scheme and a clearer coast could not possibly have +been contrived or desired. + +"At breakfast," continued Peter, "Hammerton suddenly blurted out that, +while he wasn't crazed with conscientiousness as a rule, one thing had +kept him awake last night. Demanded whether we had the nerve to think +that we had simply bought him off with a job. 'Perish the thought, +Charlie,' said I, looking kind of hurt at the bare suggestion. 'Thank +you, Maginnis,' said he, dignified as the President. 'It's an honest +fact that I gave up the chase because I felt all along that you two +fellows couldn't possibly be mixed up in anything underhanded.' Aha! +thinks me to myself ... Eh, Laurence?" + +"Just exactly." + +"Well, cheer up. It's done every day by our best families. And speaking +of doing underhanded things," said Peter, "our guests approach rapidly. +Up, guards, and at them!" + +He took off his terrible Panama and waved it in a friendly manner. + +"How-de-do, Mrs. Marne! Morning, candidate! Welcome aboard." + +The sister and brother came up the stair, and were cordially greeted by +their hosts. + +"Ashore again!" ordered Varney over the side. "There is another guest." + +"So we have not kept you waiting after all," cried Mrs. Marne, flashing +a triumphant eye upon her brother. "Mary is not here yet--the prinker!" + +She was dark, vivacious for a chaperon, easily on the correct side of +thirty, and arrayed in very light mourning indeed. She had a will: for +it was she who had baited J. Pinkney Hare with sociology and politics to +abandon the law in New York, at which he was doing rather well, and +follow her to Hunston. This was when her husband, a member of Hunston's +oldest family--for there was aristocracy in the town--had left her +widowed the year of their marriage. + +"Three times," Hare elucidated to Varney, "did she tell me, 'I'll be +ready in a minute.' And a ten-minute interval elapsed each time, by my +grandfather's trusted chronometer." + +"Oh, well," said Varney, "who'd put any trust in a woman who was ready +when she said she'd be? Let's get into the shade." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, sister-wise, as she turned with Varney, "gets +his ideas about women from the comic weeklies." + +They sauntered aft, Peter and Hare in the rear. + +"Committee meeting at five-thirty?" + +"Precisely. And by the bye," began Hare.... + +The candidate, in his tiny frock coat, with pale gray spats and scarf to +match, looked overdressed in the brilliant sunshine. Yet probably Peter, +whose purple tie blossomed too gorgeously above a blue silk "fancy vest" +of a cut a good deal affected in the early nineties, looked the more +striking of the two. + +"He's a fool," declared Peter presently. "The chances are that Ryan has +a barrel of votes salted down where we'll have the devil's own time +tapping them. You can't smoke out a skunk in a minute, I tell you." + +Mrs. Marne, in a cushioned chair, was being markedly agreeable to her +host. + +"It's my _début_ on a yacht," she was rattling away. "Is there any +special etiquette? Coach me from time to time when you see me fumbling, +won't you? And if there _is_ a code, there is one thing that I move +shall go into it, here and now. Politics is--or are--_barred_ for the +day! Will you make it a rule that whoever mentions it--or them--forfeits +butter, Mr. Varney?" + +Varney laughed. "A rank outsider myself," said he, "I'm absolutely +willing. But I fear that in a division the nays would have it." + +"You and I," she said, "against Mr. Maginnis and Pinky. A tie. Mary +would have the deciding vote." + +"Then you'd lose out," said her brother, whose social manner, it was +developing, differed somewhat from that of his official moments. + +"I know women," said Mrs. Marne. "I could lobby Mary over in exactly two +minutes, Mr. Varney. Besides, she is absent at roll-call, you know." + +"The point is well taken," said Varney, to whom the thought was anything +but a novelty. + +"There she is now," said Peter over their shoulders. + +Varney turned and looked ashore at the point where the gig was patiently +waiting. There was no sign of anybody there. + +"Upstream," added Peter, and the sudden honk of a motor-horn punctuated +the observation like a full stop. + +Two hundred yards above them, a narrow driveway circled down to the +river to an ancient boat-house, and here the gaze of the little party +turned. Where the road curved at the water's edge, there stood a great +white touring-car, shining in the sun like a new pin. Upon the driver's +seat sat a bare-headed young man with a brown face and light sunburned +hair, brushed back. On the farther side of him, gloved hand holding to +the seat back, stood a young girl in a blue linen dress and a rather +conspicuously large hat, also of blue. Both of them were looking off +toward the _Cypriani_. Now the horn tooted again in salutation; and the +girl, catching their eyes, waved her hand and smiled, making a little +gesture indicative of her lack of equipment to navigate the intervening +stretch of water. + +Mrs. Marne answered the salute in kind. Reassuring gesticulations were +duly wafted ashore. + +"Who's the new swain, Pinky?" demanded Mrs. Marne thoughtfully. + +Pinky did not know. The sailing-master, at a word from Varney, hurled an +order to the gig ashore. Then he swept his megaphone upstream, pointing +it straight at the motor: + +"The gig is on the way to you now, Miss." + +"That's an awfully sweet hat she's wearing," said Mrs. Marne. "I wonder +where she found that shape." + +Miss Carstairs nodded her thanks to the sailing-master. The bare-headed +young man sprang down, assisted her to descend, waited with her at the +water's edge, assisted her most thoroughly into the _Cypriani's_ gig. He +was a handsome boy. He stood on the shore looking after the departing +boat, laughing and calling out something. + +"We wanted to have luncheon on deck," said Varney, abruptly, to Mrs. +Marne, "as the day is so uncommonly fine. But about noon there came up a +little cloud no larger than a man's hand--it took a telescope to see +it--and the steward, a pronounced conservative, begged us not to trifle +with our luck. It seems too bad to go indoors on such a glorious day." + +"But if we were to stay outdoors," she laughed, "would it have been such +a glorious day? These are the questions that make cynics of us all. I am +unhappy, Mr. Varney, because I have to fly the moment luncheon is over. +The Married Women's Culture Club meets at four o'clock. Only fancy!--I +am to read a paper on Immanuel Kant." + +Peter, who had known no women in his life and was oppressed with the +thought that Hare's sister was his personal responsibility for the day, +was strolling moodily about the deck, hands thrust deep in his trousers +pocket. Hare hung at the rail, his neat glasses turned upstream. + +The gig came alongside and Miss Carstairs mounted the steps, the party +gathered at the head of them to meet her. Peter, as it chanced, greeted +her first. He had been introduced to her, in passing, the night of the +meeting, but now he was dimly conscious that he had rather +underestimated her appearance. + +"I am dreadfully sorry to be late," she said. "We went for the shortest +little drive, and all at once it was two o'clock and we were three miles +away." + +"You must have done something to the speed-limit, madam," said Peter in +his stiffest manner, "for you are in ample time." + +"How do you do, Mr. Hare?" + +"Excellently well, thank you, Mary. It is supererogatory to ask you." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, "have that word and I met? I don't seem to +recognize it." + +"Good-morning, Mr. Varney." Mary offered him her hand; but, greeting +her, he had turned to pull a chair out of her way, and so missed seeing +it. + +"It is a great pleasure to welcome you aboard the yacht, Miss +Carstairs." + +"If I seem at all addicted to melancholia to-day," said Mary, "you won't +be surprised, will you? My mother isn't well--really! When I left her an +hour ago, you might have supposed that we were parting for a year. And +then, besides I had an omen--a mysterious warning...." + +Varney's gaze became fixed. "A warning?" + +She laughed. "A rather queer and scary one! I'll tell you presently." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Marne, when Varney had turned to explain the +working of the boat-falls to Hare, "_who_ is he? He is simply +cunning!" + +Mary laughed. Hare, who was listening to boat matters with one ear only, +thought it was rather a conscious laugh. + +"Only John Richards. He came up in his car yesterday to spend a day with +us. How do you like my hat?" + +"It's a love," said Mrs. Marne. "A great big love." + +"I trimmed it myself. You recognize the feather, of course?" + +They went down to luncheon. The ladies cried out with pleasure at the +prettiness of the little saloon. + +The room was darkened, through half-drawn shades, to a pleasant +dimness. The table was round, red, and bare. It was a splendid mass of +flowers. In the center was a great blossoming thing in a silver +basket-frame, so large and high that when they were seated, Hare, who +was neither, could just see Mary over the top of it. About it were four +tall vases of cut roses, two of white, two of red. Button-holes in white +and red lay at three covers, gigantic American Beauties, red, with +flowing white ribbons, at two. And napery, silver, iridescent glass, all +the materialities, were well worthy of so pretty a floral setting. + +In short, it was a most alluring bait that Uncle Elbert's yacht had +flung out for Uncle Elbert's daughter. + +"These roses," said Mary, raising hers to her lips, "were never grown in +Hunston." + +"I want to explain a rule that Mr. Varney and I adopted just now, Mr. +Maginnis," said Mrs. Marne. "Did you hear it? It concerns the two +subjects of butter and politics." + +Hare lifted a glass of the _Cypriani's_ excellent sherry and caught his +host's eye. "Mr. Varney! By a pleasant coincidence, we happen to be +gathered here within a day or two of the birthday of one member of our +charming party. The little discrepancy of date is immaterial--am I +right? Why may I not propose the health and great happiness of Miss +Carstairs?" + +"Standing!" cried Mrs. Marne, pushing back her chair. "Bravo!" + +They stood, glasses raised, turned toward Miss Carstairs, bowing, +saluting her according to their several kinds; and she sat, looking up +at them, laughing, flushed, prettily pleased by the little rite. For +Varney, conscious of the mockery of his felicitations, there had been no +escape. But Hare, who noticed everything, observed that he did not touch +his glass to his lips. + +The luncheon progressed merrily. It was evident from the beginning that +it was to be a pronounced success. Only Peter was stiff and bored; and +even he grew somewhat enlivened before the ceremonies ended. There was +Scotch and soda for the gentlemen, and he did not spurn it when the +decanters passed. Varney, whose want of appetite pained McTosh, was a +conversational tower of strength. But his talk was false-faced talk, his +mirth was lying mirth, his smile a painted smile. Uncle Elbert's +daughter sat at his left, as befitted a guest of honor. Her eyes, when +she looked at him, were kind and friendly, but it early became his habit +not to meet them; for he always saw behind that--saw them changed as he +was destined to see them within the hour.... + +"So you're quite alive and well to-day!" she said to him presently. +"Will you believe that I picked up the _Gazette_ this morning with fear +and trembling?" + +"Oh--thank you--yes! We eluded Mr. Hackley's well-meant attentions with +marvelous dexterity and success." + +"Ah, you still don't take it seriously, I see. I'm going to make one +more effort to frighten you to-day--but I'm afraid you are one of these +terribly reckless people who think being safe is too tame to be +interesting. What do you think of our poor little city, Mr. Varney?" + +"I? I assure you," he said, turning a gay face toward her, "I think it +positively the most exciting town I ever saw in my life. But then, of +course, I 've had unusual privileges. What is much more important--what +do you think of it?" + +"Of course, I love it. My mother went here to boarding school a great, +great many years ago. No, not that--some years ago. She fell in love +with the place on account of the scenery, and the air, which she says is +fresher than you can get in other places. Personally, I believe that the +same quality can be had elsewhere, but she says not at all. So when +we--left New York, nothing would do for her but to come straight here." + +"But don't you find it a little dull?" + +"Dull! Why," she cried, after a moment, "you talk exactly the way she +does." + +"May I offer you an olive?" + +She took it daintily in her fingers, bit it and resumed: "I suppose your +metropolitan idea is that a person would be buried alive in Hunston?" + +A sunny shaft broke in from without and became entangled with her hair, +which was in some ways so curiously like it. McTosh, whose eye was +everywhere, promptly lowered a shade two inches--the one blunder he made +that day. + +"Isn't it?" + +"That would depend altogether on the person." + +"Me." + +"I do think so, decidedly." + +"Really you and my mother would be very congenial." + +"McTosh, the bread," said Peter's cool voice. + +Mrs. Marne, who had been interested by Peter's taciturnity and +fascinated by his waistcoat, had been leading that ordinarily masterful +man something of a conversational dance. Detached for the moment by his +demand for provender, she called across the table: "Mary, I herewith +invite you to attend the Culture Club meeting at four o'clock this +afternoon, to lead the applause for my paper on Immanuel Kant. Pinky +wrote it and--" + +"Before any court in the land," said Hare, lifting his glance above +squab _en casserole_, "I am prepared to establish my innocence of this +charge." + +"If he positively will not take no for an answer," continued Mrs. Marne, +"you may bring John Richards along. No claret, thank you, Mr. Maginnis. +Men, it is true, are not admitted to the sacred mysteries, but I will +arrange to have him seated on the piazza where he may eavesdrop the +whole thing through the long French window." + +"Unfortunately," said Mary, "he has to go to Albany this afternoon, I +believe." + +"To resume our conversation, Mrs. Marne," said Peter. + +"I shouldn't if I were you," Hare recommended. "If memory serves, it was +hardly worth it. Why not, instead, permit me to tell the story of the +seven fat men of Kilgore?" + +McTosh, of the gum-shoe tread, shuffled courses dextrously. An +under-steward assisted in the presentation of the viands, another +manipulated dishes in the hidden precincts of the pantry. The service +was swift and noiseless, but not more so than the passage of time. The +hands of the little clock fastened against the forward bulkhead already +stood at quarter after three. + +Mary's eyes, which had been resting on the candidate, turned back to +Varney, and they were shining. "Seriously, Mr. Varney," she said in a +lowered voice--"how could any one possibly be buried in a town where +Mr. Hare is?" + +"Mr. Hare?" + +She nodded. "Because he is so _alive_! Why just to live in the same town +with him is an inspiration. To be friends with him--well, that is all +you ever need to keep from feeling buried alive! He isn't listening, is +he?" + +"No," said Varney, "he is, I believe, telling the story of the seven fat +men of Kilgore." + +"If you wish to hand bouquets to Pinky for a while," called Mrs. Marne, +aside, "I will see that you are not disturbed, Mary." + +"Thank you, Elsie, but it's your sisterly duty to listen to the story. +Mr. Hare," she presently went on, to Varney, "had a great career ahead +of him in New York--Judge Prentiss told me so--and he kicked it over +without a quiver and came up here where there isn't any glitter or +fireworks, but only plain hard work. Politics is only an incident with +him. No one will ever understand all that he has done for Hunston, +without any thought of return--working with all his heart and his head +and his hands." + +"Ha! Ha!" said Peter down the table. "That reminds me--" + +"You have known him a long time, I suppose?" asked Varney. + +"Yes," she laughed, "but he has known me longer--ever since I was a +very little girl. That is why he calls me by my name, which gives him a +great moral advantage. I call him Mister because I didn't know him when +he was a very little boy. I have figured it all out, and I couldn't +have, because he was thirteen when I was born. Besides, you can't begin +to know people till you have reached a certain age. Can you?" + +"Not to say know, I should think." + +"Say six," said Miss Carstairs. "That's liberal, I think. Well, he was +nineteen _then_, and I never even saw him till seven years afterwards, +anyway. That made him twenty-six, which was much too late. Now he says +that I should call him by his name, but of course I'm not going to do +it." + +"It is hard to change an old habit in a thing like that." + +"Oh, I don't mind the hardness of it. But whoever heard of calling a +Mayor by his first name? Call a Mayor Pinky! The thought is ridiculous. +Isn't it, Mr. Hare?" + +But Hare was engrossed with a conversation of his own, now turned upon +economic lines. + +"Everything in the world that goes up must come down," he was saying +didactically, "except prices. They alone defy the laws of gravity." + +Peter challenged the aphorism, wordily. Mrs. Marne smiled at Mary across +the flower-sweet table. + +"No," answered Hare presently. "Money isn't everything, but it is most. +It makes the mare go; also the nightmare. It talks, it shouts, and in +the only language that needs no interpreter. I may describe it, without +fear of contradiction, as the Esperanto of commerce." + +"Clever, Pinky!" called his sister, derisively. "Confess that you +rehearsed this before a mirror." + +The luncheon ended. If anything had been wanting to prove how agreeable +it had been, it appeared now in the pretty reluctance with which the +ladies rose. There was the customary pushing back of chairs, smoothing +down of garments, recovering of handkerchiefs from beneath the board. +The room and the table were the objects of new compliments, given in +farewell. + +"Who would have dreamed," said Mary, looking back from the door at her +father's perfectly appointed room, "that yachts were as nice as this?" + +"And to think," said Mrs. Marne, "that it was all done by a Mere Man." + +McTosh, the mere man in question, blushed violently behind his deft +hand. + +They stepped up on deck into the shade of a great striped awning, and +loitered along the side, caught by the beauty of the late summer scene. +Sky and water and green wood blended into practised perfectness. The +rippling water was blue as the heavens, which was very blue indeed. The +sun kissed it like a lover. + +"Will some one kindly tell me," demanded Hare, referring to his sister's +remark, "how the superstition arose that men have no taste?" + +"I have read," said Mary idly, her back against the rail, "that it was +invented by the authority who started the slander about women's having +no sense of humor." + +"Why, they haven't, have they?" + +"You're wrong there, Hare," said Peter, out of his fathomless ignorance. +"For my part I think that women are often more amusing than men." + +"Of course, Maginnis, of course. The point is that it never dawns on +them." + +They were strung out along the after deck, a gay and friendly company, +exactly as Varney had pictured them in his thoughts. From the hatch +emerged the stewards, in stately processional, bearing coffee and +cigars, their paraphernalia and appurtenances. Twenty feet away, on the +other side, was to be seen the sailing-master's wife, sitting under +orders, sedate, matronly, knitting a pale blue shawl and giving to the +bright scene an air of indescribable domesticity. + +"Women," said Mrs. Marne to Varney, "have a splendid sense of humor. I +am a woman and I know. True, we keep a tight grip on our wit when we are +with men, because, whatever men may say in moments like these, they do +loathe and despise a comical woman. But when we are alone together--ah, +dearie me, what funny things we do say! Don't we, Mary?" + +Varney, to show himself how cool he was, was lighting a cigarette, and +had just perceived with annoyance that his hand shook. + +"At least," he answered easily, "no man will ever disprove that, since +no man has ever had the pleasure of being present when women are alone +together. I can recommend the Invincibles, Hare." + +Peter, as one sensitive to the duties of host, now begged Mrs. Marne to +let him show her something of the yacht. He mentioned the crew's +quarters and the--er--butler's pantry as points which he particularly +desired to bring to her attention. + +"I'd _love_ to see them! Oh--I must take just one peep before I fly." + +The trio started forward in a whirl of her animated talk, Peter leading +with a dutiful face, Hare strutting solemnly along in the rear. Mary +glanced at Varney. + +"Aren't you going to show me your butler's pantry, too?" + +"Rather!" he said, starting with her up the deck. "But I want you to see +the whole ship, you know, much more thoroughly than Mrs. Marne has time +for--and to take a little spin--" + +He was interrupted by an exaggerated cry from the lady last mentioned, +who, happening to glance down at her watch, had stopped short at the +cabin-hatch in great dismay. + +Now she turned back to Varney crying: "Oh! oh! Mr. Varney, it's _twenty +minutes to four_! I must fly to my Culture _this instant_!" + +At that, for Varney, the little party lost the last traces of its false +good-fellowship and stood out for what it was. Mrs. Marne's hurried +departure slightly dislocated his carefully-laid plans; it was evident +that her brother had no intention of going with her. Over her +unconscious head, his eye caught Peter's in a faint sweep which +indicated the little candidate. + +"Oh--must you, Mrs. Marne?" said Varney, with civil regret. + +"I _must_! I wish--oh, how I wish!--that culture had never been +invented. The world lasted a long time without it, I'm sure. I detest to +eat and run, yet what else can possibly be done by the author of +'_Ideals of Immanuel Kant_'?" + +"It is too bad," said Varney, "but if duty really calls, I suppose there +is nothing for it but to have your boat ready at once." + +"I ought to go, too," said Mary. + +A chorus of protests annihilated the thought. Mrs. Marne declared that +she would never, no, never, forgive herself if she broke up so +delightful a party. It was unanimously decided that the other guests +were to remain long enough to be shown something of the yacht. Mention +of a little spin down the river was once more casually thrown out. + +Events moved swiftly. The gig was manned, waiting. Varney under cover of +issuing orders, found opportunity to say a hurried word to Peter. Mrs. +Marne approached Mary, who was discussing yachts with Hare, to make +adieu. Suddenly the large face of Maginnis loomed over her shoulder. + +"Good-bye, Miss Carstairs--you'll excuse me, won't you?" said he, +briefly. "I--I thought perhaps I'd just walk in with Mrs. Marne." + +Mary repressed an inclination to smile. "Certainly, Mr. Maginnis. +Good-bye. I've enjoyed it a great, great deal." And to Pinkney Hare she +added: "You are going over the yacht with us, of course?" + +Mrs. Marne embarked in a shower of farewells. Peter, however, loitered +at the head of the stairs, and the gig waited at the foot of them. +Varney stood at Miss Carstairs's elbow, cool, smiling, controlling the +situation with entire and easy mastery. + +"It occurs to me, Miss Carstairs," he said, "that I should begin our +tour by showing you our sailing-master's wife, Mrs. Ferguson--decidedly +the cultured member of the ship's household. She reads Shakespeare. She +recites Browning. I dare say that she even sings a little Tennyson. You +would enjoy meeting her, I am sure. Will you step around the other side +for a moment?" + +"How exceedingly interesting," murmured Hare, falling in beside them. +"Years ago, I used to read quite a bit of poetry myself." + +The gig still waited at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Marne, waving +upward last adieus to Mary and Varney, called: "Do hurry, Mr. Maginnis. +I'm outrageously late." + +But Peter, who had more important matters than Kant on his mind at that +moment, answered in a low, hurried voice: "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. +Marne--but I _must_ see your brother at once about--a critical matter. +Oh, I say, Hare." + +The candidate, now some distance up the deck with the others, stopped +and looked back. + +"May I have a word with you, please?" + +Hare turned, with only a polite show of reluctance to his host and Miss +Carstairs, and drew near. Politics interested him far more than the +staunchest ship that ever sailed. + +Five minutes later when Varney, having launched Miss Carstairs and the +sailing-master's wife upon a strictly innocuous conversation, came +around the deck-house again, neither the candidate nor his sister was +anywhere to be seen. Peter--he who had engaged to accompany the +lady--stood alone on the sunny deck, staring off at the returning gig, +his great hands clenched in his coat-pockets. He met his friend with a +calm face. + +"It's all over but the shouting," he said. "They've just landed. I told +Hare that there was a plot on against your life--which is very likely +true by the way--said he and I must have a conference at once without +alarming Miss Carstairs. I had to draw it pretty strong, you can bet, to +make him go without telling her good-bye." + +"You've got the letters," said Varney hurriedly. "Go to see Mrs. +Carstairs the first thing--make the explanations. Call up Uncle Elbert +and tell him six-thirty for the carriage at the dock. Be sure to explain +to Hare and Mrs. Marne at once--prearranged visit to her father, kept +quiet for--any good reason." + +"Of course," said Peter. "Well, I must hurry along. I promised to +overtake them in the woods. Oh, the lies I've told in this ten minutes!" + +He turned and picked up his hat and cane to go. + +To Varney, the simple act drove home with great force the stark fact +that he was face to face with his business at last. Peter, holding out +his hand to say good-bye, was struck to speculation by the look of that +eye. + +"Well, good luck, Larry!" + +"In heaven's name--what does that mean?" + +"Hanged if I know," said Peter, frankly. "I'll see you in New York--if +not sooner." With which cryptic observation he clattered down the stairs +to the gig. + +Varney beckoned the sailing-master from the quarter-deck. + +"I am returning to New York, as I told you, Ferguson, with the young +lady, Mr. Carstairs's daughter. Start as soon as possible." + +The sailing-master stared at the deck. "Ready at once, sir." + +Mrs. Ferguson's fondness for classical poetry was no part of any stage +make-believe. Varney, having found her the day before sitting on a coil +of rope with Mr. Pope's _Odyssey_ from the ship's library, had conceived +a veneration for her taste. Now, as he drew near them again, she was +telling Mary that though Tennyson was fine for the purty language, it +was really Browning who understood the human heart. And down in the +engine room they had everything ready for the bell. + +"Have you two settled the poets' hash yet?" asked Varney. "I hope you +didn't make the mistake of preferring Tennyson to Browning, Miss +Carstairs? Thank you very much for entertaining our guest so nicely, +Mrs. Ferguson." + +"What a wonder that woman is!" said Mary, looking back at her as they +walked away. "I had thought that I was rather good at liking poetry, but +she leaves me feeling like the dunce at the kindergarten." + +She turned and looked out over the water, caught anew by the shining +landscape. They stood side by side in the shade of the wide low awning. +Half a mile to their left huddled the town, whither the others were +already on their way; a few hundred yards behind them stood the big +white Carstairs house, handsomely cresting the hill. From many miles to +the northward a breeze danced down the river, and played capriciously +over their faces, and so whisked on about its business. All the world +looked smiling and very good. + +Suddenly a bell tinkled. There was a slight splash, a faint rumble and +quiver. + +Varney laughed. "The passion for poetry," said he, "is a curious and +complex thing. Its origin is shrouded in the earliest dawn of +civilization. It appears in man's first instinctive gropings toward +written self-expression--" + +"Why," said Mary, in sudden surprise, "_we are going!"_ + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +CAPTIVATING MARY + +So Elbert Carstairs's dream had come true, and his daughter was going +home to him at his desire. She stood on his yacht, as truly a prisoner +as though she wore a ball and chain; and the beat of the engines, +already gathering speed, was driving her straight toward that dock in +Harlem whither he, within a very short time, would be driving down to +meet her. + +"Going? Of course we are," said Varney. + +He leaned against the rail and, looking at Mary, almost laughed at the +thought of how easy and simple it was. + +"The point of being on a yacht, Miss Carstairs, is to see her go. +Otherwise, one might as well sit in the den at home and look at pictures +of them in the encyclopedia." + +"But I--didn't expect to go," she said, gazing at him doubtfully--"only +to look around a little. I'm really afraid I haven't time for a sail." + +"Well, you know," he said cheerfully, "as far as looking around is +concerned, going doesn't necessarily take any longer than staying. In +one case, you stay and look around: in the other you go and look around. +That is really all the difference, isn't it?" + +"Well, then, it must be a little go and a short look around. Where does +one begin, in looking around a yacht?" + +It would have been plain to a far duller plotter that they should be +fully clear of Hunston before he explained the situation to her more +definitely. + +"Suppose," said Varney, "we begin with a few general remarks of a +descriptive nature. This vessel, Miss Carstairs, is what is known as a +schooner-rigged steam-yacht. She stands a good bit under a hundred tons. +She is ninety feet long, eighteen feet in the beam and she draws ten +feet--" + +"I don't understand a word of that except ninety feet long, but it all +has a perfectly splendid sound! But where can Mr. Hare be? Please send +for him like a good host, and begin back at the beginning again. He just +told me that yachts interested him intensely." + +"But, unfortunately, Mr. Hare is no longer with us." + +"Not with us? Why--did he _get off_?" + +"He certainly did. He and Maginnis are a great pair, aren't they? Not a +minute to give to pleasure or anything of that sort. I believe they +slipped off to Hare's house for another of their eternal private talks." + +"But--" Mary stared astoundedly. "He _said_ he was going around with us! +I asked him and he accepted. And besides," she went on, rolling up the +count against the unhappy candidate, "he's got my parasol!" + +"We detached that from him before he left. It's around on the other +side. I'll send for it at once." + +But her puzzled frown lingered. "I have known Mr. Hare well for six +years," she said, "and this is the first time I ever knew him to do such +an uncivil thing." + +"It wasn't his fault, depend upon it. Maginnis called him back, you +know, and no doubt hauled him off bodily, positively refusing to let him +pause for good-byes. A man of ruthless determination, is Maginnis." + +She glanced up the deck with vague uneasiness, disquieted by the +unexpected situation. Forty feet away sat the sailing-master's wife +still placidly knitting at her pale blue shawl, the perfect portrait of +secure propriety. The sight of her there was somehow reassuring. + +"So is Mr. Hare, I always believed. But never mind. How fast we are +going already!" + +"Yes, the _C_--this yacht goes fast." + +"What is considered fast for a yacht? How long would it take us to get +to New York?" + +"Three hours. Why not go?" + +A white-clad steward noiselessly approached with her parasol. She took +it and smiled at Varney's idle pleasantry. + +"Thank you, I have too many responsibilities this afternoon. First of +all, we--have a guest at home. Then I simply must go to Mrs. Thurston's +to see about some sewing at five. Last obstacle of all--my mamma! What +would she think had happened?" + +"Don't you suppose that she would guess?" + +"Do you think I'm the daughter of a clairvoyant, Mr. Varney? No, she +would not guess. She would simply stand at the front window in a Sister +Ann position all the afternoon, crying her pretty, eyes red. But--this +is a schooner-something steam-yacht, ninety feet long, I believe you +said. What comes after that?" + +They had left the town dock behind and were scudding swiftly. There was +no longer any reason, even any pretext, for waiting. Every pulse of the +_Cypriani's_ machinery was beating into his brain: "Tell her now! Tell +her now!" + +But all at once he found it very hard to speak. + +"There is time enough for that. There is something that I must tell you +first--in fairness to Hare. The fact is that I--I made Peter take him +away because I wanted to be alone with you." + +The crude speech plainly embarrassed her; she became suddenly engrossed +in examining the carved handle of her parasol, as though never in her +life had she seen it before. + +Varney turned abruptly from her and looked out at the flying shore. + +"Last night," said he, "you may remember that you asked me a question. +You asked me why I objected to accepting help from you." + +"Yes, but that was last night," she interrupted, her instinct instantly +warning her away from the topic--"and you didn't tell me, you know! +Really--we must turn around in two minutes, and so I haven't time to +talk about a thing but yachts." + +"I fear that you must find time." + +"Must, Mr. Varney?" + +"Must. This is a matter in which you are directly concerned." + +She faced him in frank wonderment. "Why, what on earth can you mean?" + +"Now you must! Now you must!" sang the _Cypriani's_ staunch little +engines. + +But he made the mistake of looking at her, and this move betrayed him. +There was no doubt of him in her upturned, perplexed face, no shadow of +distrust to give him strength. His earlier dread of this moment, +strangely faded for a while, closed in on him once more with deadly +force. + +"Don't you see that I am trying to tell you and that I am finding +it--hard?" he said quietly. + +There was a moment's silence; then she said hurriedly: "Of course I am +all in the dark as to what you--are talking about--but tell me another +time, won't you? Not now, please. And oh--meantime," she sped on, with +the air of hailing a new topic with acclaim, "I have something to tell +you, Mr. Varney!--mystery seems to be in the air to-day. You _must_ +hear the strange thing that happened to me this morning. I haven't had a +chance to tell you before." + +"Ah, yes! That mysterious warning." + +He clutched at the respite like a drowning man at straws, though no +drowning man would have felt his sudden rush of self-contempt. + +"Who gave it to you, and what was it about?" + +Free of his hidden restraints, she had quite thrown off the +embarrassment which she had felt settling down upon her a moment +before, and laughed lightly and naturally. + +"It was about coming to this beautiful luncheon to-day--about _not_ +coming, I mean--and it was given to me--don't be angry--by Mr. +Higginson, the old man, you know, who helped you last night." + +"Ah!... Mr. Higginson." + +"Tell me!" she said impulsively, her eyes upon his face--"I saw last +night that you distrusted him--_do_ you know anything about him?" + +With an obvious effort he wrenched his thought from his present urgency, +and brought it to focus upon a puzzle which now seemed oddly like an +echo from a distant past. + +"Not yet," he said, with an impassive face. "But I trust--" + +"Oh, I don't like the way you say that! I don't see how you _can_ be so +suspicious of such a patently well-meaning old dear. And yet--" + +"Well, then, tell me what he said to you and convert me." + +"I suppose I must--I have had it on my mind a little, and you have a +right to know. Yet I don't want to at all! For I must say it seems just +a little to--to support your view. Well, then," she said, some +perplexity showing beneath her smile, "it happened about eleven o'clock +this morning as I was going down the street to see Elsie Marne--never +dreaming of mysteries. I met Mr. Higginson walking towards our house, +and we stopped, so I thought, for a friendly word. For he and I made +friends last night. Oh, you have a right to think I am too free, too +easy, in the way I--I make friends with strangers, and yet really +this--is not like me at all. And there is something very winning about +this old man. Well, he asked me point-blank--begged me--not to come to +your lunch-party to-day. What have you to say to that?" + +He continued to look at her as from a distance, not answering her little +laugh. Behind the grave mask of his face he cursed himself heartily for +his self-absorption of the morning, which had led him entirely to lose +sight of Mr. Higginson's activities last night. He had fully meant to +search out that "winning" old man on his excursion to the town, but in +his engrossment over the more important duty of the day, the matter had +dropped completely from his mind. That the old spy had somehow ferreted +out their secret was now too plain to admit a doubt. But what +conceivable use did he mean to make of it? To interfere with the +_Cypriani's_ homegoing was beyond his power now. Did it better suit his +mysterious purpose to hold back until the thing was done, in order to +raise the dogs of scandal afterwards?... + +For the moment his mind attacked the problem with curiously little +spirit; but one thing at least was instantly clear. He must return to +Hunston to-night, by the first train after his arrival in New York, find +Higginson and call him to his well-earned reckoning. Meantime ... here +was this girl, this daughter of Uncle Elbert, whom the old sneak had for +the second time failed to bend to his mean uses.... + +"But what reason," he said mechanically, "did he give for his rather +unusual request?" + +"He wouldn't give any! That's what makes it all so ridiculous--don't you +see? Naturally I asked, but he only said in his nervous apologetic way +that he wasn't at liberty to tell, but that after last night I ought to +consider whether you--your surroundings were likely to be quite safe. I +said: 'But oughtn't you to give me some idea and, if there is any +danger, warn Mr. Varney and Mr. Maginnis? You can't mean that there is +another plot, involving the yacht this time--the likelihood of a naval +battle on the Hudson?' And then he wrung his hands and said that he +couldn't tell me what he meant, but that I'd certainly regret it if I +came. There! Oh, I _know_ he thought he was doing somebody a +kindness--you and me both, I believe! And yet--that was just a little +creepy, wasn't it?" + +He made no answer to this; hardly heard what she said. Mr. Higginson, +his works and ways, had once more slipped wholly from his mind. +Something in the look of her face, its young trustfulness, its utter +lack of suspicion, had already laid paralyzing hold upon him. Now a new +thought possessed him; and all at once his breast was in a tumult. + +"And yet," he said, with sudden fierce exultation, "_you came_!" + +She colored slightly under his look and tone and, to cover it, gave a +light laugh. + +"Oh, yes.. dauntless person that I am! Have you the remotest idea what +he was talking about?... But oh, really we must turn around now! Indeed +we must--I hadn't noticed how far we have come. And you can show me +things as we go back, can't you?" + +He started at her speech; asked himself suddenly and wildly what was +wrong with him. A better opening for his crushing announcement could not +have been desired. Yet he stood dumb as a man of stone. One blurted +phrase would commit him irrevocably, but his lips would not say it. And +he was glad. + +He stared over the water thinking desperately what this might mean. + +In that first meeting, radiant as it had somehow seemed to him, he knew +that, given this chance, he could have carried his business through +without a quiver. Even last night when, he thought, things to make it +harder had piled one on another like Ossa on Pelion, it would not have +been impossible. Now his lips appeared sealed by a new and overwhelming +reluctance; a resistless weakness saturated him through and through, +seducing his will, filching away his very voice. + +The _Cypriani_ rattled and wheezed, and her speed sharply slackened, but +he did not notice it. His mind fastened on the stark fact of his +impotence like a key in a lock: his heart leapt up to meet it. He turned +slowly and looked at her. + +She leaned lightly upon the rail, her eyes on the water, her lashes on +her cheek like a silken veil. At her breast nodded his favor, the +_Cypriani's_ perfect rose. In her youth, her beauty, and, most of all, +her innocent helplessness, there was something indescribably wistful, +indescribably compelling: it sprang at him and possessed him. Even in +permitting him her acquaintance, she had trusted him far past what he +had any right to expect; and now, with his own sickening game at the +touch, she gave this crowning proof of confidence in him--dashing it +full in the face of the whispering and hinting Higginson, full in his +own face too. Could anything in all the world matter beside the fact +that this girl believed in him, that she had trusted him not only +against convention, not only against his cowardly enemy, but last and +biggest, _against himself?_ + +And she should not be disappointed. His pledge to her father was a +Jephthah's oath, honorable only in the breaking. His mission, all his +hours in Hunston, took changed shape before the eye of his whirling +mind, monstrous, accusing, unbelievably base. Reward that trust with +treachery, that faith with betrayal? Never while he lived. + +Out of his turmoil came peace and light, flooding the far reaches of his +soul. + +In crises thought moves with the speed of light. The young man's mental +revolution was over and done with in a second's time; the pause was +infinitesimal. Almost as she finished her last remark, Mr. Carstairs's +daughter turned from the rail and took a step forward upon the deck, as +though to jog her host toward that promised tour of the yacht which had +now flagged so long. + +"I thought you ought to know this," she was saying, apparently quite +unaware of his descent into the psychological deeps, "though perhaps you +will think it not worth repeating. But before we go on, do tell me +--won't you?--is Mr. Higginson merely--_seeing things_--a sort of +he-Cassandra, you know--or really do you think there is any danger?" + +"No!" answered Varney, so promptly as to give the air of having waited +long for just that question. "There is no danger now, thank God!" + +A heavy step sounded near, approaching. Starting to speak, he broke off, +turned and saw the sailing-master coming towards him. Over the +intervening stretch of deck the two men looked at each other, the master +nervously, Varney victoriously. + +It was one of those critical moments whose importance no one can gauge +until after the time for guaging is past. However, as it fell out, it +was the master who spoke first. + +"Very sorry, sir, indeed," he began, with a curiously uneasy and +hang-dog expression. "The gear's broke down again--in another place. +Couldn't possibly have been foreseen, sir. We can--hem--manage to beat +about without any trouble, but I fear it would not be safe to try to +push on to New York." + +"To New York!" said Mary Carstairs, looking at Varney and laughing at +the man's stupidity. "It certainly would not be safe at all!" + +Even the furtive-glancing sailing-master was conscious of the tide of +gladness that had broken into his young master's eyes. + +"_Put about this instant, man_!" he cried imperiously. "Miss Carstairs +wishes to return to Hunston as soon as possible." + +"Right, sir," stammered the astonished Ferguson, backing away. "At once, +sir." + +Varney met the man's amazement steadily, laughed into it, and so turned +again to his old friend's daughter. She was conscious of thinking that +this was the first _happy_ smile she had seen on his face since the +night when he lit the lamp at Mr. Stanhope's. + +"He seemed nearly stupefied because you weren't going to scold him, did +you notice? I wonder if you are usually very cross with him. But on with +our sightseeing! What is the name of this such-and-such a kind of +steam-yacht?" + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, struggling against his sudden exaltation +for calmness and self-control--"we are both conscious that I owe you an +explanation for--for what of course you must think my very extraordinary +behavior. Believe me, you shall have it very soon. There is nothing in +the wide world--ah--that is, I'd like very much to give it to you now. +But--no, no--it wouldn't be quite right--no--not fair--" + +"You think I am eaten up with feminine curiosity about Mr. Higginson!" +she said, a little hastily. "Oh, I'll show you. Look! Look! We're +turning around already." + +"Don't look there. Look in this general direction now and then, and tell +me what you see." + +"I see," she said, looking anywhere but at him, "the strangest, the +most _volatile_ and--_not_ excepting Mr. Higginson--the most +_mysterious_ man in Hollaston County!" + +"Where are your eyes, Miss Carstairs? You are standing within two feet +of the happiest man in America, and you don't even know it." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +IN WHICH MR. HIGGINSON AND THE SAILING-MASTER BOTH MERIT PUNISHMENT, AND +BOTH ESCAPE IT + +Passing the town-wharf laggingly like the maimed thing she was, limping +nearer and nearer the spot whence she had set out three-quarters of an +hour before, Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ slowed down at an abandoned +private landing--the same one by which Peter's trunk had been conveyed +ashore that morning--and ran out her stairs. + +As the two on board stood watching the yacht make fast, conversing, if +the truth be known, somewhat disjointedly, they were astonished to see +the great form of a man rise from a grassy bed a little way back from +the river-bank and advance towards them. + +"Why, look!" said Mary. "There's Mr. Maginnis! I thought he'd gone to +town long ago." + +Varney did not answer her. His eyes were glued upon Maginnis, and he +called in a strange voice: + +"You have been waiting for us." + +"Haven't budged a step," answered Peter, moving out upon the landing. +And he added what seemed an odd remark to Miss Carstairs: "I knew you +were coming back." + +He greeted Mary at the foot of the stairs, cordially, and begged the +privilege of escorting her to any destination it might be her fancy to +name. But she stoutly declined his good offices, as she had Varney's a +moment before, declaring that she could not think of troubling so busy +and important a man. + +"But where did you spirit Mr. Hare off to, if I might ask?" she said. + +"On a very important mission I assure you, madam,--that is, Miss +Carstairs," said Peter, diplomatically, having no idea how matters +stood. "He begged me to let him go back and say good-bye to you, but I +told him I'd make it a personal matter." + +"I am awfully glad that you have stopped calling me 'madam,'" said Mary, +rather inconsequently. "I _did_ hate it so!" + +And she walked off up the woodland path, swinging her recovered parasol, +and finding herself with a good deal to think about. + +Peter, coming on deck, found his friend waiting for him, taut as a +whipcord. + +"Well, old horse!" said Maginnis. "Welcome back to jolly little +Hunston." + +"The machinery broke down on me," said Varney, turning away to light a +cigarette. + +"Sure," said Peter cheerfully. "You knew it was going to do it when you +started. I read it in your eye when we said farewell forever." + +"You are quite mistaken," said Varney. "Ask Ferguson." + +"Oh! Then you'll do it to-morrow morning, when the machinery is all +right again?" + +"No," said Varney, "nor at any other time." + +The two men looked at each other steadily, unwinkingly. As the look +lengthened, each face gave way to a slow reluctant smile. + +"I won't pretend," said Peter, "that I am disappointed in you. I never +dreamed that I hated this thing till the time came, and hang me if I +don't rather like that little girl." + +"It was a thing," said Varney, "that simply couldn't be done. We were a +pair of asses not to see that all along." He glanced hurriedly at his +watch and started for the companionway. "Jove! I'll have to hustle." + +"Hustle! Where the devil to?" + +"I'm off to New York by the five o'clock train to tell Uncle Elbert that +I've resigned. I'll feel mighty mean doing it, too." + +"Well, don't anticipate trouble," called Peter dryly. "You can't feel +mean by the five o'clock train, however much you may deserve--" + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't any. She goes through at four-seven. You'll have to compose +yourself to wait till eight-ten, unless you want to walk." + +Varney halted at the head of the companionway, surprisingly +disappointed. From the moment when the _Cypriani_ had put about, he had +been insistently conscious that his first duty now was to see Mr. +Carstairs, beg absolution from his promise, and formally surrender his +commission. So only, he had felt, could he go on with clean hands. + +"Well, don't look so glum over it," said Peter. "You're not any sorrier +about your prolonged stay in our midst than I am." + +Varney turned an inquiring eye upon him, and he began walking rather +restlessly up and down the deck. + +"Oh, this same old rot!" he broke out impatiently. "I'll never be easy +in my mind till you are back in New York, and _stay_ there--" + +"Well, well, Peter! Stick it out for three hours more--" + +"Not long after you and Miss Carstairs steamed off," continued Peter, +"Hare blew back down here, tired of waiting and a little excited. He had +just heard some passing whispers about you and me. He says there seems +to be a little suppressed excitement in town this afternoon." + +"Why, I thought your paper had kicked all that nonsense into a cocked +hat." + +"A lot of people don't believe the paper, though," said Peter. "On the +contrary they believe that you are Stanhope and that you bought the +_Gazette_ to disown yourself and save your hide. A foolish idea, but it +has doubtless been helped out by whispers from higher up. Smith's +selling out has made Ryan see red. Smith's still in town, by the way, +which argues a good deal of cool nerve on his part. Hare hears that Ryan +is in a murdering humor--" + +"You seem to forget entirely that Stanhope--the real, the genuine, +double-extry-guaranteed--has appeared, to bear his own--" + +"But Hunston doesn't know it yet!" exclaimed Peter. "Kindly get that +well into your head. All these Hackleys and Orricks still think that +you're their meat--Where're you going?" + +Varney, pausing at the hatch, deliberated whether he should say anything +to Peter about Mr. Higginson's latest and most daring intrusion, and +declared for the negative. "There's no reason," he mused, "why I should +let him in on this. And besides--" + +"To town," he said aloud. "I've got to send a telegram to Uncle Elbert. +He's very much on my conscience--poor old chap!" + +"I'll go with you. Got a Reform Committee meeting at five-thirty. And +some other business." + +But Varney had already disappeared below. Peter picked up his splendid +guitar and, sprawling upon the transom, gave himself up to soft humming +and, presently, to the work of composition. Soon, after some little +painstaking effort, he produced the following, to be rendered to the +tune of "Yankee Doodle": + + The tale of crime is at an end, + For little Laurence Va-arney + Declines to swipe his loidy friend + Upon the _Cypria-a-ani_! + +Peter tried this over to himself with considerable satisfaction. He +possessed a remarkably sweet tenor and pleasurably anticipated singing +his ditty to its hero, and doubtless getting a cushion pitched at his +head for his pains. But it happened that Varney was to go to his grave +without ever hearing that small chanson. + +He came on deck again in five minutes with a face which drove all +thoughts of melody from Peter's head. In fact, at sight of it, he came +instantly to a sitting position and his guitar slid unheeded to the +floor. + +"What's happened?" + +Varney did not answer immediately. He stood at the rail and stared into +the woods with fixed eyes which saw nothing. Peter rose and came towards +him. + +"Out with it!" he said encouragingly. "I'm full partner here. You want +to murder somebody. Well and good! Now who is it?" + +Varney turned towards him, half-reluctantly, and spoke in a quiet voice. + +"I told you just now that the machinery broke down. I was mistaken. It +was broken down." + +"_Broken down?_" + +"When I went below," continued the younger man, "it occurred to me to +look in the engine-room and see how bad the damage was. It was very bad +indeed. I'm no mechanic, Lord knows, but a child could make no mistake +here. The effect is about as if somebody had jammed a crowbar in the +works while she was running full-tilt. Probably that is just what +somebody did. It'll be some days before she'll run again." + +Peter's bewilderment deepened. "What in the world does this mean?" + +"Treachery," said Varney calmly. "Somebody on board has been bought." + +The two men stared at each other. Varney read on Peter's face the swift +unfolding of precisely his own thought. He was rather surprised at +Peter's quickness, in view of the fact that he knew nothing of the +episode of the morning. + +"Yes," he said. "That's the man." + +He told concisely of Mr. Higginson's attempt to break up the lunch-party +by keeping the guest of honor away. Peter's face, as he listened, +underwent a curious change. It first slowly gained color, then slowly +lost it; and all of it, from the top of his forehead to the end of his +chin, seemed subtly to contract and tighten up. + +His comment at the end was: "Excuse me a minute." + +Upon which he vanished below to see with his own eyes and judge with his +own brain. He was back in less than two minutes, with a tiny spot of red +in the corner of his eye, and his manner unwontedly calm. + +"You're right. Pretty clumsy treachery that," he said, standing and +staring at Varney, who had dropped into a chair. "What was the man +thinking about to ... I don't begin to see bottom on this." + +Varney's eyes were on the sailing-master, who sat far forward, feet on +the rail, apparently engrossed in a magazine. The young man had just +recalled the master's curious manner when he notified him of the +accident to the machinery. + +"Larry--you meant to turn around anyway?" + +"But Higginson, you see, couldn't predict that." + +"The immediate cause of your turning--" + +"Was the little mishap to our gear." + +He raised his voice: "Ferguson! I'd like a word with you if you please." + +The sailing-master jumped at the sound of the voice as though it had +shot a projectile into his back. However, he rose at once and came +forward in his usual, brisk, stiff way, halting before the two men with +a salute. Varney eyed him inscrutably. + +"I believe you were in town for a while this morning, Ferguson?" + +"Yes, sir, I was." + +"While there did you chance to see anything of an elderly gentleman, a +stranger here, by the name of Higginson?" + +Though he had the look of being braced for trouble, the man changed +color at the direct question, and his eyes instantly shifted. With an +evident effort he recaptured something like his usual steadiness and +spoke in a voice of elaborate thought fulness. + +"Higginson? No, sir. I know no one of that name." + +"Ah? I thought not. I asked on the mere chance. And oh, Ferguson." + +"Sir?" + +"I have just been down to look at the damaged machinery. Ignorant of +these matters myself, I can naturally make little of it. You will +prepare a written report for Mr. Carstairs, explaining in detail the +nature of the accident, and in particular just how it took place." + +"Very good, sir." + +"And--oh, Ferguson." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"As the--er--mishap appears to be so serious, I think it best to have an +expert from town advise with me before the work of repairing begins. You +will therefore leave matters just as they are until I instruct you +otherwise." + +"Oh--very good, sir." + +Peter turned his dissatisfied eyes from the back of the retreating +sailing-master to Varney. + +"What better proof d'you want than the rogue's face? Why didn't you fire +him on the spot?" + +"I neither hire nor fire here," said Varney. "These are Mr. Carstairs's +employees. He will have to deal with them as he thinks best." + +He rose immediately and put on his hat. + +"With Mr. Higginson, however," he mused, starting for the stair, "the +case is altogether different." + +"Exactly," said Peter with great heartiness. + +As one man they descended the stairs, crossed the battered landing and +struck rapidly up the woodland path for Remsen Street and the town. As +they walked, Varney silently condemned the unfailing genius of the Irish +for intruding themselves into all the trouble that hove upon the +horizon. It was with acute pleasure that he recalled, before long, his +friend's engagement for half-past five. For he himself had but three +hours left in Hunston that day, and he had an urgent use for +them--beyond even Mr. Higginson. + +"I confess once more," said Peter, tramping heavily, "that this chap is +too many for me. I don't seem to grasp his game." + +"And you call yourself a conspirator, Peter! Why, this is ABC." + +"All right. I'm listening. Spell it out for me." + +"Suppose the gang here is deep enough, as you think, to plan a little +rough-house, ostensibly for my benefit, but really to get you into it +and thus wipe you out. Doesn't it occur to you that my fading away to +New York at the critical moment would rather knock the bottom out of the +scheme? Why, it's as clear as noonday! Higginson, learning somehow that +I expected to fly off immediately after the lunch-party, first tries to +break up the party, and failing that, he bribes Ferguson to break up the +machinery. Thus he hopes to make it impossible for me to get away--me +whom he needs in his business as the red rag for his little old mob." + +They had emerged from the woods and walked a block up Remsen Street +before Peter replied. + +"By Jove! That does seem to explain everything! That's it! It's +Higginson, not Smith, who has been pulling all these wires from the +beginning. I suspected the man the first minute I ever clapped eyes on +him. But where do you suppose he got his hint?" + +"Hammerton?" + +"Never. That boy is trustworthy, or I'll eat my hat." + +"Well, I think so too. Then he simply corrupted Ferguson and wormed the +whole thing out of him. Pretty clever, the whole thing, wasn't it? How +much Ferguson may really know, or suspect, I have no idea. Of course, +there is only one thing to fear now, and that is scareheads in the New +York papers to-morrow--attempted kidnapping foiled, and so on. It would +break Uncle Elbert's heart if anything of that sort should come out--" + +"Don't you worry. It won't. I'll close his trap--tight." + +Once more Varney was slightly annoyed by Peter's presence. + +"If we find him," he began, as they came to the square, "you--" + +"We must try not to be brutal, Larry," warned Peter soberly. "I remind +myself that he is an elderly man--" + +"If we find him," began Varney again, "you will please remember that he +belongs to me. Higginson is strictly my pickings." + +Peter grunted, looking rather annoyed too. + +They crossed the square, two determined-looking men, and entered the +Palace Hotel. Behind the desk a bored clerk sat paring his nails with a +pair of office scissors. He looked up with a certain resentfulness. + +"Excuse my interruption," said Varney. "Is Mr. Higginson in?" + +The clerk's glance lowered tiredly. "Naw. Left town on the four-seven." + +"I don't believe it," said Peter instantly. + +There followed a silence. So stern were the gazes fastened upon the +clerk that, looking hastily up at Peter's word, he promptly lost +something of his lordly demeanor and became for the moment almost human. + +"Well, sir, he's left _us_. _Said_ he was takin' the four-seven." + +"Where did he go?" demanded Varney. + +"Don't know, sir, but I think to New York." + +"You must know where he checked his baggage to." + +"Didn't have any baggage, sir," protested the clerk. "Only his +suit-case." + +"Did he leave no address for the forwarding of his mail?" + +"Naw, sir. He did not." + +"Of course not. Why on earth should he?" said Peter. + +Desisting from the absent but fierce stare with which he was transfixing +the clerk, he drew Varney hurriedly aside. + +"All bluff!" he stated positively. "Is it likely, after _his_ day's +work, that he'd be lolling around the lobby waiting for us to call? He's +_moved_! But depend on it, he's got more work to do, and he _hasn't left +town_!" + +"If that's so, where do you recommend looking?" + +Peter made a large gesture. "That's a horse of another color. I told you +he had a faculty for disappearing into a hole and pulling the hole in +after him. If anybody besides Ryan knows where he is, I should say that +it might be Miss Carstairs. She seems to be his only friend on our side +of the fence, since I tipped Hare off." + +Varney all but jumped. "I'll ask her!" he offered almost precipitately. +"The very thing!" + +"It is quite possible," continued Peter, tensely thoughtful, "that the +old rascal has sneaked to her since the luncheon, to try to pump +something out of her about our movements--even within the bounds of +possibility that he is with her at this moment--" + +"A great suggestion!" said Varney cordially. "You certainly have a head +on you, Peter. Of course, on the other hand, it is quite possible that +he _has_ skipped--made a bee-line for Newspaper Row. In that case, I'll +see if she--Miss Carstairs, you know--if she knows his address in New +York, and I'll hunt him up to-night." + +Peter, glancing at his watch, discovered that he was already fifteen +minutes late for his committee meeting. + +"For this afternoon, then," he said, unwillingly, "you can have him, if +you can find him. After to-day, though, he belongs to me. Wherever he is +now, he'll certainly be back on the job to-morrow. Well--I'll leave you, +then. Er--Larry. It's just as well not to be prowling around after dark +by yourself, you know. I'll be back at the yacht early and we'll have +dinner together before your train. Say six-thirty, eh?" + +"I'll be there." + +Peter hurried off for Hare's house with a mingled sense of unjustly +baffled vengeance and vague uneasiness. Varney, drawing a long breath of +relief, headed for the telegraph office, whence he dispatched the +following telegram to Mr. Carstairs: + + "Plan permanently abandoned. Arrive in New York + by train 9.20 to-night. Expect me ten minutes later." + +That done, he started rapidly down Remsen Street with a steadily +mounting spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +VARNEY, HAVING EMBARKED UPON A CRIME, FINDS OUT THAT THERE IS A PRICE TO +PAY + +There was a fine old hedge of box bordering the Carstairs lawn, old +rosebushes inside it and many flowering shrubs. Splendid oaks curtained +the big white house on either side, shading the expanse of close-clipped +turf. At the left, a fountain-sprayer now whirled a mist of water over +the trim grass, and far to the rear a man in rubber boots was hosing off +a phaeton before a carriage house. On the back porch, an elderly cook +was peeling potatoes and gently crooning some old ballad of Erin. + +It was a serene and reassuring scene. Yet upon the spacious piazza, +which undeniably contributed to the pervading air of all's well, the +stunning information came to Varney that the lady of his quest was not +at home. Nor could the maid at the door say where her young mistress had +gone, or with whom, or when she would return. Possibly Mrs. Carstairs +knew, but Mrs. Carstairs was unwell and could not be disturbed. Miss +Carstairs would be sorry to miss him, the kind-hearted girl opined, and +would he please leave his name? + +The young man descended the steps in a state of the flattest depression. +Disappointment, he reflected bitterly, crowded upon the heels of +disappointment on this anticlimactic afternoon which yet should have +been, in a bigger sense, so gloriously climactic. He had missed his +train, and with it his honorable confession to Mr. Carstairs; missed +Higginson; last and worst of all--it seemed to him now that this was all +that mattered in the least--he had missed Miss Carstairs. In sooth, the +world was all awry. + +But at the gate, a thought came to him, radiant as a heavenly messenger. +Miss Carstairs was at her seamstress's on the Remsen road. Had she not +told him with her own lips that she was to be there at this hour? + +He made a _Te Deum_ of the click of the gate, and turned northward a +face which bore record of an inner splendor. + +He had set out to see Miss Carstairs in order to ask of her if she knew +the whereabouts, in Hunston or New York, of the fair-spoken yet elusive +Higginson. But with every step he found the force of this errand +weakening within him. The memory of that gentleman's villany, so burning +a moment since, grew steadily fainter and more inconsequential. Failing +to locate him, he would of course make a precautionary round of the +newspaper offices in New York that night. At the worst, he told himself +with the swift fading of his anger, there was only a remote risk of any +unpleasant aftermath. Why, the thing was over and done with--let +by-gones be by-gones. As for those other matters supposed to be upon his +mind--hints of approaching trouble for himself, and the knowledge of Mr. +Carstairs's bitter disappointment over the collapse of his all but +triumphant scheme--he could not for the life of him give them any +attention whatever. + +A far nearer and more vital matter was pressing upon his mind and heart. + +To tell her everything at the moment when the yacht had swung back and +he had thrown up his commission forever had been his first strong +impulse. He had crushed it down only because he saw that to speak then +was to take her at an ungenerous disadvantage. Now Fortune had sent him +this new meeting, to be untrammeled by any such restraints. No grim duty +governed his movements now; no consciousness of secret chicanery any +longer enfolded him like a pall. Already the thought of what he had +meant to do came back to him hazily, like the plot of a half-forgotten +play. The hobgoblins in a nightmare seemed not more unreal to him now. +His heart sang with the knowledge that he was to see her again, this +time with no shadow between. + +Two nights' rain had left the road dustless: it was silent and empty. +All about him fell the pleasant evening noises of the wood, but he did +not hear them. As he walked, his mind was rehearsing the whole story of +his coming to Hunston, as he was now free to confess it to Uncle +Elbert's daughter. That she would forgive him he never entertained a +doubt. For he would throw himself wholly on her mercy--telling her +everything, painting himself as blackly as he could--and suing for +pardon only because he had failed. + +But when suddenly he saw her, sooner than he had expected, his polished +and elaborate phrases dropped from his mind as cleanly as had the +recollection of the roguery of Higginson. + +It was at that hour when the skies remember the set sun in a gold and +pink glow. A little kink in the road straightened out under his swift +feet, and a small cottage in a fair-sized lawn jumped out of the woods +into vision, almost upon him. On the small square porch, her back to the +road, stood Miss Carstairs, talking through the open window to some one +in the room beyond. + +Varney, having stopped short at the first sudden sight of her, walked on +very slowly. Her voice came to him distinctly, and now and then he +caught scattering words of what she was saying. She wore her blue dress +of the luncheon and the hat which Mrs. Marne, and others, had so +admired; and she gave him the odd impression of being somehow _older_ +than she had ever seemed before.... Yet she was ten years his junior and +three days ago, at this very hour, he had never so much as laid eyes +upon her. + +"I'll come Saturday morning, then," she was saying, "and you'll +certainly have them ready for me, won't you? Good-bye." + +She turned from the window, came towards the steps. At the top of them, +she saw Varney standing at the gate, not twenty yards away, and stopped +dead. Then she came on down the stairs, down the graveled walk towards +him. + +"I'm going away at eight o'clock," he began without greeting, striving +to make his voice casual. "I went to your house first--and--" + +"You--followed me here?" + +"Yes," he said, unsmiling. "I had to see you before I went--on matters +of business--and--" + +She was nearer to him now: for the first time he could see her eyes. In +them lay a faint shadowiness like the memory of shed tears; but sweeping +over that and blotting it out he saw a look which struck him like a +blow. + +"There is nothing for you to see me about, I think--any more," she said +with a little laugh. "The game is up--isn't that what they say in +melodrama? My mother has told me all about it." + +"Your mother has _told you_!" he echoed stupidly, as one to whom the +words conveyed no meaning. + +"She had not expected to see me so soon again, when I went off to lunch +on my father's yacht. The surprise was a little too much for her. You +must try to forgive her," said Mary, and punctuated the observation with +a small, final bow. "Will you open the gate for me?" + +"No," said Varney, pulling himself sharply together. "Not like that." + +The shock of her voice and look, even more than her words, had been +stunning in their first unexpectedness. But now he remembered, with +infinite relief, that of course she did not understand the matter at +all; of course she would speak and look very differently when he had +made his explanation. + +"You think," Varney said, "that I _mind_ your knowing about our poor +little plot--that I am found out and my plans are all upset? How on +earth could you think that? Why, that's all like something in another +life. Don't you know what my being here at this moment means? The thing +is all over, Miss Carstairs--all past and done with an hour before you +ever saw your mother. I gave it up voluntarily. When the time came, just +now on the yacht, I found out that it was impossible--unthinkable--I +couldn't do it. The game was up then. That is one thing that your mother +could not tell you, and it was to tell you this, and all the rest of it, +that I followed you here." + +She stood on the other side of the gate, hardly an arm's length from +him, looking at him; a figure so pretty, so dainty, so extremely +decorative that she seemed incapable of giving anything but pleasure. +But in the eyes that met his own so unwaveringly, he read at once the +contradiction of this. + +"Yes, I suppose that would always be the way, wouldn't it?--that +whenever I found out, you were just going to tell me?" + +If she had searched her mind for a way to strangle his headlong +self-defence, she could not possibly have done it more effectually. +There followed a horrible pause. + +"You mean ... that you do not believe me?" + +"In the little while that I have known you, have you given me much +reason to?" + +"Can't you see that that is exactly the reason I wanted to tell you all +the truth now?" + +"Why did you wait till _now_? Weren't there chances to tell me this +afternoon on my father's yacht? But--there's no use to speak of all +this. It is enough that I know it now." + +He was aware that her voice had lost that hard and polished lightness +with which she had first struck at him; on this last sentence, he +thought that it trembled a little; and in a flash, he saw the whole +matter from her side of it, and for the moment ceased to think about +himself. + +He leaned his arms upon the green panel of the gate and looked down at +her. + +"Don't think that I blame you for not taking my word. Probably I +couldn't expect it. We can't very well argue about that.... And of +course I have known all along--how you would feel about me, when you +found out what I came here to do. I was ready for that--ready for you to +be angry. But I don't seem to have taken it in that you would be ... +hurt. That makes it a good deal worse." + +She made no reply. She had lowered her heavy-fringed eyes; her slim, +gloved hands were busily furling and unfurling her white parasol. + +"There is nothing in this that need hurt you. Believe me in this, at any +rate. Only three people are concerned in it. You will have no doubt of +your mother. That she told you shows how impossible it was to her, even +with Uncle Elbert wanting you so much. You will not mind about your +father--not in any personal way. He is a stranger to you. That leaves +only me." + +Still she said nothing. It seemed to him that he had never looked at so +still a face. + +"For me, I might make you angry as any--acquaintance might--any +stranger. But that is all. It is not ... as if we had been friends." + +She raised her eyes, and the look in them seemed to give the lie to +every word he had said. + +"What do you call a friend? Did I not trust you--put myself in your +power--fall confidingly in with your hateful plot--after I had been +plainly warned not to? Oh, if I had only listened to Mr. Higginson, I +should not have the humiliation of remembering that--hour on the yacht!" + +The name stung him into instant recollection. He stood staring at her, +and his face darkened. + +In the first staggering revelation of her look, his sub-conscious mind +had leapt instantly to the conclusion that his cunning enemy, having +found out his secret, had betrayed it to Miss. Carstairs. Her first +words had disposed of that. It was the tortured mother, not the +professional sneak, who had been before him with his explanation. But +now it rushed over him that he had an infinitely deeper grudge against +the vanished spy. For it was Higginson, with his bribe-money, who had +broken down the yacht; Higginson who would, in any case, have forced the +return to Hunston; Higginson who had given this girl the right to think, +as she did think, that she owed her escape wholly to an "accident" to +the machinery. + +He had thought that he had saved Uncle Elbert's daughter from himself, +and lo, his enemy had plucked the honor from him. The world should not +be big enough for this man to elude his vengeance. + +"You mention Mr. Higginson. Where is he?" + +She glanced at him, impersonally, struck by the unconscious sternness of +his voice. + +"I do not know, but I am most anxious to see him--to thank him--" + +"I am told that he left town at four o'clock. Perhaps you know his +address in New York?" + +"I do not," she answered coldly. "No doubt he went away hurriedly ... +frightened of you because of his kindness to me." + +She came a step forward to the gate. Instantly his thought veered back +to her and his tense face softened. + +"How can I blame you," he said hurriedly, "for thinking the worst of me? +I've been thinking badly enough of myself, God knows. But don't you +know, can't you imagine, that nothing could have held me to the +miserable business a single moment after I saw you, had I not been bound +by a solemn promise to your poor father?" + +"My father! Oh, if he is the sort of man to plot a thing like this, and +to bludgeon my mother into it, how could you endure to _promise_ to do +it for him?" + +"Because he is breaking his heart for you, and you didn't know it. It +seemed right that he should see you, since he wants to so much." + +All her sense of the wrong he had done her flared up in anger at that. +"How do _you_--_dare_ say what seems right between my father and me? He +is breaking his heart for me, he told you? Did he mention to you that +she had _broken_ hers for him? Don't you suppose that I have had +time--and reasons--to decide which of them I belong to?" + +"All this," he said, "was before I knew you." + +About them hung the stillness of the country and the long empty road. +The woods stirred; a bird called; a portly hare poked his nose through +the brush over the way, and suddenly scuttled off, his white flag up. In +Mrs, Thurston's yard, the quiet was profound. + +"All his life," said Mary Carstairs, "my father has thought about +nothing but himself. I am sorry for him--but he must take the +consequences of that now. If he is lonely, it is his own making. If my +mother has been lonely till it has almost killed her, that is his doing, +too. For you--there was never any place in this. As for me, I owe him +nothing. He must beg my mother's forgiveness before he shall ever get +mine." + +She came forward another half-step and laid her hand upon the gate-latch +with a movement whose definiteness did not escape him. + +"You may take back that answer from me if you wish. And so, good-bye." + +"Not good-bye," said Varney, instantly. "You must not say that." + +"I am quite sure that I have nothing else left to say." + +Her eyes went past him over the gate, out into the wood beyond. Dusk was +falling about them; it shaded her face, intangibly altered it, made it +for the moment almost as he had known it before. She looked very young, +and tired. This was the picture of her, and he knew it then as he looked +at her, that he would carry with him to the longest day he lived. + +"Is it nothing to you," he cried in a rush, "that when the time came I +couldn't do it? The yacht's breaking down had nothing in the world to do +with it. I had already decided to turn back, to break my promise. That +the--accident happened just then was only a wretched chance. I was going +to put about at that moment." + +She hesitated almost imperceptibly, seemed for a brief second to waver. +But perhaps she dared not let herself believe him now: perhaps the +strongest wish of her heart was to hurt him as deeply as she could. + +"To say the least," she said with a little deliberate movement of +distaste, "your coincidences are unfortunate. You--won't mind if I go on +being grateful to the--_gear_?" + +Under that crowning taunt, his self-restraint snapped like an +overstretched bow-string. + +"You shall not say that. You shall not. Miss Carstairs, you _know_ I +could have kept you on the yacht if I had wanted to. You _know_ how I +gave the order to put about and bring you back to Hunston. Did I look in +the least then like a man whose hopes and plans had been ruined? You +know I did not. You know I said to you that I--I was the happiest man in +America. Will you tell me what on earth that could mean--except that I +had decided to give up a thing that has been a millstone around my neck +ever since--I met you?" + +She made no reply, did not look at him. The dusk shadowed her eyes; and +whether her silence meant good or ill he could not tell. + +"You cannot answer, you see. We both know why. You will not be fair to +me, Miss Carstairs. It is that night in the Academy box-office over +again. Because I _had_ to deceive you once--not for my own sake--you +will not look at the plain facts. But in your heart--just like that +other night--_I know you believe me."_ + +Of course she could not let that pass now. "I do not!" she said. "I do +not. I must ask you, please, not to keep me here any longer." + +Varney's face went a shade paler. Arguing about his own veracity was +even less bearable than he had thought; his manner all at once became +singularly quiet. + +"The merest moment, if you will. I can prove what I say," he answered +slowly, "but of course I won't do that. You must believe what _I_ say, +believe _me_. Nothing else matters but that.... Don't you know that it +took a very strong reason to make me break faith with my old friend, +your father--to make me stand here begging to be believed, like this? +You have only to look at me, I think. Don't you know that I couldn't +possibly deceive you now ... after what has happened to me?" + +"I don't know what you mean. I don't understand. Don't tell me. Nothing +has happened ..." + +"Everything has happened," he said still more quietly. "I've fallen +crazily in love with you." + +She did not lift her eyes; neither moved nor spoke; gave no sign that +she had heard. He went on slowly: + +"This--might be hard to believe, except that it must be so easy to see. +I've known you less than three days, and I never wanted to--even like +you. My one idea was to think of you as my enemy. That was what Maginnis +and I agreed--plotting together like a pair of nihilists. It all seems +so preposterous now. Everything was against me from the beginning. I +wouldn't face it till to-day, this afternoon. Then it all came over me +in a rush, and, of course, your happiness became a great deal more to me +than your father's. So we turned around, and it was then that I told you +how happy I was. Didn't you know then what I meant? Of course it was +because I had just found out ... how you were the one person in the +world who mattered to me." + +There was a long silence. It deepened, grew harder to break. Little +Jenny Thurston, watching these two through an upstairs shutter, marveled +what adults found to say to each other in these interminable colloquies. +A young cock-sparrow, piqued by their stillness, alighted on the fence +near by and studied them, eye cocked inquisitively. + +"Of course, I'm not--asking anything," said Varney. "About this, I mean. +I am answered, and over-answered, already. But ... do you believe now +that I--voluntarily gave it up?" + +"Oh," said Mary, "you--you must not ask me that. You must not talk to me +like this. I did trust you once--fully--when you were almost a stranger; +last night--and then this afternoon--" + +"Do you believe me," said Varney, "or do you not?" + +Her lower lip was trembling very slightly, and she set her white teeth +upon it. The sudden knowledge that she was near to tears terrified her, +goaded her to lengths. She gathered all her pride of opinion and young +sense of wrong and frightened feminine instinct, for a final desperate +stand; and so flung at him more passionately than she knew: "How many +times must I tell you? _I do not! I do not_!" + +Varney gave her a last look, stamping her face upon his mind, and took a +step backward from the gate. + +"Then," said he ... "this is good-bye, indeed." + +Presently Mary raised her eyes. He had turned southward, toward the +town, but at a pace so swift that he was already far down the road. A +jutting curve came soon, and he vanished behind it, out of her sight. + +Dusk was falling fast on the wood now. The green of the trees deepened +and blackened, turning into a crooked smudge upon the sky-line. The road +fell between them like a long gray ribbon. Nothing was to be seen upon +it; nothing was to be heard but the rustle of the early night wind and +the pleasant sounds of the open road. + +Varney's mind as he walked, was a blank white wall. He had forgotten +Elbert Carstairs, forgotten the train he was to take, forgotten even the +unendurable injury that Higginson had put upon him. His one blind +instinct had been to get away as quickly and completely as possible. But +now, slowly, it was borne in upon him that he knew this road, that he +had walked it once before like this, at the end of the day. His first +night in Hunston--he remembered it all very well. It must have been +just here--or here--that the rain had caught him, and he had gone on to +meet _her_. + +The cottage which had sheltered them that night must be close at hand. +His eyes, which had been upon the ground, lifted and went off down the +road. They fell upon the dark figure of a man, shuffling slowly along in +the gloom, not twenty yards ahead of him. + +He was an old man, shambling and gray-whiskered, and stooped as he +walked. If he was aware that another wayfarer followed close behind, he +gave no sign. Suddenly he stopped short with a feeble exclamation, and +began peering about the ground at his feet. The young man was up with +him directly, and his vague impression of recognition suddenly became +fitted to a name. + +"Orrick?" + +The bowed form straightened and turned. Through the thickening twilight +the two men looked at each other. + +"You were not by any chance waiting for me?" + +The darkness hid old Orrick's eyes; he shook his head slowly a number of +times. "I passed you when you was at Miz Thurston's, sir. I can' walk +fas' like you can." And he bent down over the road again. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Varney. "Have you lost something?" + +"Los' my luck-piece," said the other, slowly, not looking up. "I was +carryin' it in my hand 's I come along an' it jounced out. A 1812 penny +it was an' vallyble." + +He cut rather a pitiful figure, squatting down in the dirt and +squinting about with short-sighted old eyes; and Varney felt +unaccountably sorry for him. + +"I wouldn' los' my luck-piece for nothin'," he added, dropping to his +knees. "I'm a kind of a stoop'sitious man, an' I allus was." + +"Perhaps I can help you; my eyes are good." + +He went back a step or two, bending down and scrutinizing the brown +earth. Orrick, presently announcing that the coin might have rolled, +made a slow way across the road on his knees, patting the ground with +his hand as he moved. Near the edge of it, half in the woods, lay a +thick piece of split firewood, long as a man's arm and stouter. The +knotted old fingers stealthily closed on it. + +"It could n't have rolled far on this soft road," said Varney presently. +"Just where do you think you dropped it?" + +Sam Orrick rose behind his stooping figure with upraised club, a blaze +of triumph in his sodden old eyes. + +"There!" he cried with a senseless laugh. "It's _there_, Stanhope!" + +The club fell with a thud; and Varney, meeting it as he straightened up, +toppled over like a log, face downward. + +Old Orrick stared down at the prostrate figure, and presently touched it +with his tattered foot. It did not stir. His fierce joy died. He looked +about him apprehensively, and his eye fell at once upon a dim-lit +cottage off the road just back of him. _His_ cottage--how had he +forgotten that? Was that dark thing--a man--standing there at the gate? +Suddenly a great terror seized the old man. He threw his stick into the +woods and slunk away, toward the town. A loud yell from behind brought +his heart to his throat, and he broke into a wild, lumbering run. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +MR. FERRIS STANHOPE MEETS HIS DOUBLE; AND LETS THE DOUBLE MEET +EVERYTHING ELSE + + +In the new-made study of his Remsen road cottage, Ferris Stanhope, +Hunston's returned celebrity, sat under a green-shaded lamp and frowned +down at a sheaf of his own neat manuscript. Behind him, in a corner, +books and various knick-knacks lay spilled over the floor around an open +trunk. The room was, in fact, in the litter incident to getting to +rights. But this did not act as a stay on the great man's habit of +industry, which happened to be of the most persistent variety. + +The study blinds were drawn, and the rest of the house was in darkness. +The author noted three emendations upon his manuscript, made three more. +Then, with a muttered exclamation, he stripped off the interlined sheet +altogether, tore it into shreds, threw the shreds on the floor and +reached for a pad of white paper. At that moment he became aware of +footsteps and heavy breathing in the hall, and looked up inquiringly. + +His man-servant, Henry, was standing in the doorway, the long limp body +of a man in his arms. + +Mr. Stanhope sprang hurriedly to his feet. In his face the servant saw +that same odd look of fleeting anxiety which he had noted there when +they descended from the train that morning. + +"In the name of heaven--what have you there?" + +"Harskin' your pardon, sir," gasped Henry, staggering into the room, +"I'm honcertain whether 'e 's kilt or not. Struck down from behind by an +old codger with long 'air and gray whiskers. Hi was at the gate--" + +"But what do you mean by hauling the carcass in here? Do you think I'm +running a private morgue?" + +Henry, who had been in his present employment a bare month, came to a +wobbly pause, surprised. The body grew very heavy in his stout arms. Now +the man's head slid off Henry's shoulder and tumbled backwards, hanging +down in the full glow of the lamp. + +"Hi thought, sir--" began the servant with panting dignity. + +"O my God!" said the author suddenly. + +Henry, who had not had a look at his burden, misunderstood. + +"Ghastly sight, hain't it, sir--that bloody gash on 'is 'ead?" + +"Quick! Put him on the sofa.--Now some water." + +The servant, whose limbs were numb from the long carry, obeyed with +alacrity. But returning hurriedly with the water, he was met at the door +by his perverse master, who took the glass from his hands with the curt +announcement that that would do. + +Henry looked as displeased as his subservient position made advisable. +"Hif you please, sir, I have quite a 'and with the hinjured and--" + +"He's only stunned," said his master impatiently. "I 'll attend to him +myself." + +And he banged the door in the servant's face. + +The man lay on the lounge precisely as Henry had happened to place him, +his averted face half buried in the pillows. Investigation showed that +he had no bloody gash on his head: that was Henry's imagination. There +did not, in fact, seem to be a mark on him beyond three small scratches +on his forehead. + +Stanhope put his hand under the chin and turned it toward him, none too +gently. For a full moment he stood motionless, staring down at that +white face so like his own. Then he dipped his hand in the glass, and +splashed a handful of water upon the closed eyes. + +At the first touch of it, the still figure of the injured man stirred +with faint signs of returning consciousness. Far down in a black and +utter void, he sensed the first glimmer of distant light. Slowly, +slowly, the glimmer grew. The silence within gave place to a vast +roaring in his ears and indescribable pain in his head; and the dull +glow which had seemed to him the shining frontier of some far new world +whither he was gratefully journeying, resolved itself into a circle of +greenish light. + +"Drink this," said a soft but peremptory voice. + +He drank, incuriously; and the fiery liquid ran to his head and heart +and shot new life into his dead limbs. But the more his lost strength +came back to his body, the more he was aware of the terrible pain in his +head. It occurred to him vaguely that when once he opened his eyes, +which he would have to do some time, there would be a horrible explosion +and his head would go off like a sky-rocket. + +"You feel better now," asserted rather than inquired the voice. + +"Much. Thanks to you. It's only--my head. Something seems to be wrong +with it, a little." + +"Somebody hit you there with a club, from behind. You remember now, +don't you? Who was it?" + +"I don't know," said Varney wearily. + +"Oh, come! Your head isn't as bad as all that--there's not even a bump +on it. Think a moment. An old man, with long hair and gray whiskers. You +must know who it was." + +Varney pressed his hand upon his racking forehead. "Oh! So it was +he--then. Poor old Orrick." + +The author's face lost something of its color. "Orrick!... What--what +has this fellow got against you?" + +Varney did not answer. The name had started remote memories to working, +and, very slowly, returning comprehension advanced to meet them. He and +old Orrick had been standing together on a woodland road. They were +hunting for something. An 1812 penny and valuable. That was it. Before +that, he had stood a long time near a green gate somewhere, looking at a +pair of dark-blue eyes. He remembered distinctly what merciless eyes +they were, though something in a far corner of his mind recalled that he +had once, oddly enough, associated them with pleasant things. Then, +like one rounding a sharp corner in a driveway, his memory came face to +face with everything; and he turned his head to the wall. + +But there was no escape from that insistent voice, so eager for an +explanation. A hand fell upon his shoulder, shook it almost roughly. +"Don't let yourself drop off again. Here! You want another drink?" + +"No, I'm quite all right now--thank you." + +To prove it, and to make ready to get away where he could be quiet, he +performed the herculean task of opening his eyes. A tall man was bending +over him, an anxious expression on his handsome face. More than the +liquor, more even than the jostling hand upon his shoulder, the look of +that face, so strange yet so familiar, braced Varney to action. + +The two pairs of gray-blue eyes, so oddly matched in tint and shape, +stared into each other steadily. Presently Varney dragged his feet +around to the floor, with difficulty, as was natural to their thousand +tons of weight, and taking hold of a chair pulled himself up on them. He +raised his hands, slowly and cautiously, to his head. Good! It was still +there. The impression that it had left his shoulders and was floating +around in the air a foot or two above them thus turned out to be an +illusion. + +"There!" he heard the author saying briskly. "A little effort was all +you needed, as I thought." + +"That was all. Thank you. You must have pulled me in from the road, +didn't you? It was very kind. You have just arrived in Hunston--I +believe?" + +"I came only this morning," his good Samaritan replied. "In the nick of +time, it seems, to be of assistance. And you?" he added, with a slight +bow. "You are a native here, perhaps?" + +"Do you remember me," asked Varney quietly, "when you were here twelve +years ago?" + +Mr. Stanhope selected a cigarette from a large open box on the table, +lit it carefully, took several long inhalations. "No," he said easily. +"But for that matter, I fear that I remember few of my boyhood +acquaintances in Hunston. But--this man--Orrick, you said?--has there +been bad blood between you two for some time then?" + +"No," said Varney, simply. "He struck me, I believe, because he thought +I was you?" + +"_What_!" cried the author with overdone surprise. + +"I am glad--to meet you so soon after your arrival," continued Varney. +"Some one should tell you that your boyhood acquaintances have longer +memories. You came here for your health, I believe? I think you might do +well to leave for the same reason." + +Stanhope's eyes became little slits behind his trim glasses. "What do +you mean by these extraordinary remarks?" + +Varney, whose brain seemed to have changed into a ball of shooting pains +and brilliant fireworks, endeavored to think out clearly just what he +had meant by his extraordinary remarks. + +"Possibly you think that I resemble you somewhat?" he said, slowly. "A +number of people here seem to hold that view. In fact, they have +mistaken me for you--everybody has. Doubtless you know why they should +feel unkindly towards you. I make myself perfectly clear, do I not? Only +this afternoon I heard that a little party was being gotten together for +my benefit." + +The author dropped his nervous-looking eyes; he tugged uncertainly at +his wisp of a mustache. + +"This thump on the head from poor old Orrick may satisfy them," +continued Varney. "But my idea is that it won't. I think Orrick was +acting independently this afternoon. A kind of free lance, you know. I +think he met me by accident. There's a train to New York at eight-ten," +he added, looking about for his hat. "I believe I'd clear out if I were +you." + +"Something's back of this!" broke out Stanhope suddenly. "Some dirty +scheme--some infamous plot--" + +"Yes, you are right," said Varney with an effort. "There is a plot back +of it. But I don't know that that makes it any better for you--" + +"I insist that you explain yourself at once!" + +"I was just about to. I came here three days ago, a stranger--on a +little stay. A friend who is with me got interested in a reform movement +here. Politics, you understand. The other side to injure him, published +the story that I was you, under an _alias_. Naturally we didn't like +that. We bought the paper just to say that I wasn't. I supposed that had +settled it. It seems I was wrong. You see, a good deal of feeling had +been worked up meantime--" + +"Hello!" exclaimed Stanhope suddenly raising his hand. "What's that?" + +Varney listened. "Men's voices," he said slowly. + +The door flew open and a man whose ordinary impassivity was touched with +a pleasurable excitement stood on the threshold. + +"If you please, sir, there's some rough-looking men just sneaked up on +the lawn. Ten or twelve--sort of a mob-like, Hi should say--" + +"What do they want?" demanded Stanhope in a high voice. + +"No good, sir, I'm thinking," said the servant shaking his head. "I was +at an upstairs window and saw 'em come sneaking up one by one, hentering +at different places. I made a noise not honlike the click of a 'ammer of +a gun, and they took alarm and scattered back. But they hain't gone +away, sir. Not by a long shot they hain't." + +Henry's master leaned against his handsome writing table, his face white +as a sheet. It appeared to be a moment when quick action was rather +important. + +"They'll try the bell first," said Varney. "Lock all the doors and +windows downstairs, my man. Quick! When they ring, open a window +upstairs, and ask what they want." + +Henry recognized the note of competent authority. He assumed, anyway, +that it was the strange gentleman's quarrel they had so fortunately been +let into, and it was only fair that he should manage it. "Very good, +sir," he said and flew. + +"But I'm afraid," added Varney to Stanhope, "there is no doubt what they +want." + +A single quiet footfall sounded on the porch and the door-bell pealed. +In the silence that followed, the noise of the turning of locks and the +drawing of bolts was distinctly audible in the study. + +"Damn you!" cried Stanhope, pale with the sudden white-hot passion of +the unstable. "This is your doing--you--you masquerader!" + +The two men stood facing each other, hardly a yard apart. They were +almost exactly of a figure, Stanhope being if anything a shade the +taller. Each was conscious as he regarded the other that he might be +looking at himself, intangibly altered, in a mirror; and the fancy was +pleasing to neither. + +"I suppose I might as reasonably call you that," said Varney quietly. "I +might as reasonably say that this knock on the head from Sam Orrick was +your doing. The fact is that you were a fool to come back here. But as +for those poor fellows out there--" + +The door-bell rang again, insistently, and he broke off. A window +upstairs rattled open, and they heard a man's steady voice: + +"'I there on the piazza! What do you want?" + +"I want to see Mr. Stanhope a minute," called a thicker voice from +below. "On important business." + +"'E's not 'ere," said faithful Henry. "'E's expected to arrive +to-morrow." + +"You're a ---- ---- liar!" + +Immediately a general yelling arose, from farther back in the darkness. +Diplomacy, it seemed, was about to be abandoned for immediate action. +But over the sudden hubbub, that cool voice at the window rang out +again: + +"Hif it's fight you want, Hi'll say we were expectin' you. There's ten +of us 'ere, hall armed--" + +A derisive voice was heard in answer. "We'll see about that, my buck, +pretty--soon--" + +"Men! Hi've got a brace of six-shooters 'ere in my 'and. The first of +you as comes into the light gets a couple of 'oles drilled into 'is +hinside, neat and clean." + +Having launched this threat from his inky window to gain a little time, +Henry silently withdrew, flung downstairs and broke into the study, his +scrape and bow forgotten, to inquire whether either of the gentlemen +had, in Gawd's mercy, hanythink that would shoot. + +His master, whose well-kept hands were opening and shutting by his side, +did not answer. + +"No," said Varney, "I am unarmed." + +"Heven without a gun, sir," said Henry to Stanhope, and his look was not +such as a servant wears to his master, "we could lick a harmy of them +chaps." + +"We could never do it!" cried Mr. Stanhope shrilly. + +The shouting outside, though still a discreet distance back, grew more +articulate. Very fearful were their menaces. + +"Come out, Stanhope! Your time's come!" + +"We'll string yer to a tree, yer----" + +"Fellers, let's burn the damn rat out!" + +Stanhope's face went from white to pale green. He steadied himself +against the table with a hand that quivered, and looked at Varney. + +"It's--it's you they want," he said. + +"O my Gawd," cried Henry and put his face into his hands. + +"Yes," said Varney, averting his eyes also, "it's I they want." And he +started for the door. + +But Henry, who had noted the marked resemblance between the two men and +had caught faint glimmerings of what these strange things meant, barred +his way with an immortal rejoinder. + +"Hif you please, sir, Stanhope was the name they called." + +Varney gave a tired laugh. His terrible headache made him chafe at any +prolonging of the scene. Moreover, it made rational thought difficult, +twisting common-sense into fanciful shapes. It seemed to him an +unendurable thing that he should protect himself under the wing of such +a man as Stanhope; and the thought of fierce action drew him like a +lodestone. + +"You're a good fellow, Henry," he said quietly. "However, your master +and I agree perfectly." + +But at that moment, the small window at the back of the room, which no +one had thought to fasten, flew open and a man slipped nimbly through +it--a big, hard-breathing, iron-faced man, with perspiration streaming +rivers down his sun-tanned cheeks. + +Mr. Stanhope, with a weak exclamation, moved so as to bring the table +between himself and the intruder. Varney's eyes grew suddenly anxious. + +"Thank God, you're safe, Larry!" gasped Peter, looking hurriedly about +him, and characteristically asking no questions. "Four of us! +Magnificent! We can hold this room for a year against those drunken +sheep...." + +The din outside grew deafening. One man, braving Henry's threat, had +made a bolt across the star-lit space to the house, and no shot had rung +out from the upstairs window. Others had instantly followed, and the +little front porch now echoed under many feet. Yet, boisterous as they +were, the mobbers seemed to hesitate at taking the front door at a rush, +as though fearful of what reception might await them in the dark and +silent hall beyond. + +But now a stone crashed through a front window downstairs, and a man's +voice rang out suddenly so close that it seemed to be inside the parlor: + +"One minute to come out fair in the open, Stanhope, or we'll set a light +to this house, so help us God!" + +Mr. Stanhope gave a low cry. "Call to them, Henry!" he ordered, wildly. +"Quick! Tell them I'm coming out this minute." + +Henry, his back against the door, did not stir. + +"_Hare_ you goin' out, sir?" + +"No," said Varney, "he isn't. But I am." + +Peter came further into the pretty room, impatient eyes fixed on Varney. +"What fool's talk is this?" he demanded roughly. "Nobody is going out. +We four--" + +Another loud crash of broken glass drowned him out. In Varney's eye the +look of anxiety had deepened. He understood everything at a glance. +Adroit proddings of a few poor Hackleys, some cheap liquor, the word +passed to Maginnis as from a friend--this was how the boss of Hunston +had plotted to set his heel upon Reform and stamp it out forever. He +came three steps back into the room, sternly. + +"You were a monumental fool to let them send you here, Peter--" + +But the swelling tumult without made parley out of the question. + +"No time for talk!" roared Peter. "It's fight now--before they are in on +us! Lights out--and to the front, all of us!" + +"Right hoh!" cried Henry, man to man, and ran out the door. + +"No, no!" protested Mr. Stanhope thickly, "it is n't fair--" + +Peter wheeled and looked at him, personally, for the first time. He had +recognized him instantly, and now when he saw what he saw on that sickly +green face, his fine eyes hardened. + +"Four, I said? I see there are only three men here. No matter--three +good ones are more than enough. Larry, stay here! I'll take the front +door--the man the front windows--" + +But Varney blocked his way to the door with a face more resolute than +his own. + +"Stand back, Peter. We'll do nothing of the sort. Those are Ryan's men +out there. They don't want Mr. Stanhope--you know that. I don't like +this place anyhow--I'm going to get out--" + +"I'll sizzle in hell if you do!" bellowed Peter, and violently pinioned +his arms. + +But Stanhope, clutching at the chance, struck again for the safety of +his skin. "He ought to go," he cried swiftly. "It is n't my +quarrel--don't you see? Let go his arm there--you bully!--let him go!" + +The shock of that, curiously, surprised Peter into complying. He +dropped Varney's arms, turned swiftly to the author and fixed him with a +look for which, alone, another man would have cried for his blood. "Did +I hear you aright?" he said in an oddly still voice. "Do I understand +you to suggest that he be sent out there alone?" + +Mr. Stanhope shrank before that look, but this was the utmost concession +to it. + +"It's not my quarrel," he said moistening his lips--and suddenly, +glancing over Peter's shoulder, his eyes lit with a frightened gleam of +triumph. "It's he they--" + +Over the shouting a single hoarse cry rang out very close at hand. + +"Curse you for the cowardliest dog God ever made!" cried Peter, his +passion breaking its thin veil of calmness like a bullet. "If you +interfere in this, you'll not hide afterward where I'll not find you. +Larry! You'll--" Peter turned and broke off short with an exclamation +which was a good deal like a groan. + +Varney was not there. Taking advantage of Peter's momentary distraction, +he had slipped through the door and fled down the hall. + +Shaken with the rushing sense of his friend's danger, Peter started +wildly for the door. But in that fraction of a second, the lamp on the +center table was blown suddenly out and he found himself in inky +darkness. At the same moment something thrust itself dexterously between +his moving legs and he fell heavily to the floor. Falling he struck out +blindly, and his whirling fist collided with something warm and soft. +The next instant he was up and groping madly for the door, his sense of +direction all gone from him. But the author lay where he had fallen, +quite still, and, for the moment, afraid no longer. + +The moment's gain, however, was all that Stanhope needed, though it was +no more. In the dark hall where a single candle burned, Varney had met +Henry. The instant before, a man's head and shoulders had protruded +suddenly through the broken-in parlor window, and Henry, waiting +patiently in the shadow of the wall had flatted him to the floor with a +heavy chair, which broke in his hands. Then he heard swift footsteps in +the hall, and divining what had happened, bounded out. + +"Stand clear, man!" cried Varney loudly. "I'm going out." + +A prolonged shouting indicated that the promise was heard with approval +outside. But not so with Henry, who closed in on him fiercely, crying: +"Not hon your bloomin' life, you don't--harskin' your pardon, sir!" + +Varney, however, was a thing of nerves and passion now, all energy and +muscle and concentrated purpose. He shook the man off like a rat, and +the next moment burst open the front door. + +All this had happened far more quickly than it can be set down. Five +minutes had hardly passed since Henry's first challenge had rung from +the upstairs window. This would have been ample time to carry the house +by storm, front and back, had the invaders had the leadership and wit; +but these things they lacked. They were still massed on the front porch, +pell-mell, in a turbulent group, ramping, raging, thirsty for action, +but as yet ineffective; though one of them had at that moment set a +match to a torch of newspapers and kindling wood. Delay had loosed the +hunter's instinct in the half-drunken band: it broke into flame at sight +of the quarry. Varney had scarcely shown himself in the half-opened door +when some one struck him a savage blow on the chin that sent him reeling +backwards. + +He had come out to them with no plan, no sense of hostility, and only +because, in his disturbed mood, he despised Stanhope so utterly that he +would take no protection from him, or give him any share in his own +troubles. But at that blow, a demon sprang to life in him which knew no +law but an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. His left arm shot out +like a piston at the dim flushed face before him, and the face bobbed +downward out of sight. + +At the same moment, the heavy back of a chair in supple hands descended +out of space behind him with a thud; and a great tall fellow, staggering +backward with the unexpected pain of that stroke, for the moment +obstructed his comrades. For Henry had followed where he could not lead, +and now ranged himself joyously at Varney's side in the narrow +threshold. + +The setback, however, was trivial. In the next breath, they closed round +him with a great shout, thrusting Henry violently to one side. Three men +were required for this latter task, who so missed the real sport of the +night. Another was caught when the front porch fell in with a crash, and +was pulled out with a broken leg an hour later. But enough remained. +Varney was instantly lost in a struggling and kicking hurly-burly of +arms and legs, and was borne with them in a rush down the short flight +of steps to the lawn. All, of course, could not reach him. So it +happened that two or three, on the outskirts of the tossing group, heard +the feet of reinforcements in the hallway and wheeled at that sound. +Even in the faint light, Peter's great size made him easily +recognizable; and a young man of Hare's party named Bud Spinks, who +admired him intensely and had partaken of his hospitality in the town, +was still enough himself to cry out: + +"Keep away, Mr. Maginnis! This ain't your fuss!" + +"You'll see!" shouted Peter, and cleared the wrecked porch at a bound. + +In his dash through the darkness for the door he had stumbled over the +fragments of Henry's broken chair. One stout leg of it remained in his +hand now. Peter's prowess with that weapon has passed into legend in +Hunston. They tell to this day of a great giant, eight feet tall, +watchful eyes in all parts of him, impervious to all blows, +hundred-handed and every hand like the kick of a mule, who met ten men +almost single-handed that night and routed them utterly. + +He was the biggest man in Hunston, the strongest and the most terrible +in anger. Bud Spinks, because he did not know whose fuss that was, felt +the bite of that anger, and toppled beneath it like a sapling under the +woodman's axe. So did poor old Orrick, who had met the others on the +road and returned with them, and who was the only man of them all that +Peter recognized. Two of those who were looking after Henry, having laid +him to rest by this time, rushed Peter from behind. One of them struck +him heavily on the point of the jaw as he swung around, and was +astonished that he did not appear to notice it. The next instant he fell +senseless under a blow that crushed through his upraised fists as a +hammer might go through a drumhead. One Peter hit a glancing blow upon +the shoulder, and as long as he lived he could never raise that arm +above his head again. + +Thus Peter was free to fling himself on that violently swaying mass +which he knew held Varney. Even those on the further side knew precisely +the moment he struck it. The whole body quivered with the shock of that +impact. Those nearer that chair leg and that equally terrible fist had +more personal testimony to his presence. There was no resisting either. +They got in many blows upon him, as his bruised body and discolored face +showed next morning. But he never once faltered. To himself, with a +precious moment lost back in the study and a heart afire to know if he +were yet in time, his progress seemed desperately slow; yet he cleft a +path for himself as by magic. + +Knocking some down, thrusting others aside or frightening them away, he +found his answer at last with sudden directness. A big raw-boned fellow, +fiercely drunk and working with his feet at something on the ground, +wheeled and struck passionately at Peter's face. A blow like a cannon +shot was his reply, and, for the second time under the impact of that +fist, Jim Hackley (though Peter did not know him) measured his length +upon the ground. Two or three scattering ones, still up, were hovering +in Peter's rear with a discreetness which, it chanced was now quite +superfluous. For at that instant, he caught sight of his friend, and +immediately all the fight went out of him and his knees shook. + +Varney lay anyhow on the trodden grass, dappled with blood, his head +curved fantastically beneath his shoulders. Another had gone down with +him and lay half over him, a long arm locked about him in a curious +gesture that oddly suggested protection. This one lay face downward, but +Varney, as it happened, was on his back, and his upturned face looked in +the dusky night the image of death. + +Peter dropped his club with a strangled cry, and went down on his hands +and knees. No reassuring flutter met the hand which he thrust inside the +trampled bosom. That heart seemed stilled. He gathered the limp form in +his arms like a child's and turned a dreadful face upon the beaten +fragments of the mobbing-party. + +"By God!" he shouted passionately. "You've killed him!" + +They faded away into the darkness, such of them as could walk, sobered +by the horror of that cry, frightened more at that face than at all the +blows which had gone before. + +So Peter stood alone in the little lawn, dark figures of his enemies +stretched here and there about him, his great arms clutching the inert +body of his friend, groaning his pain to the four winds. But the next +instant, flying hoof-beats sounded on the road, raced near, and a +two-horse buggy, overloaded with men, pulled up sharply at the gate. A +very small pale man, in a frock-coat plastered with dirt, and stuttering +violently as he shouted Peter's name, tore up the path. + +"You're too late, Hare!" cried Peter wildly. "They've killed him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +RELATING HOW VARNEY FAILS TO DIE; AND WHY SMITH REMAINED IN HUNSTON; AND +HOW A RECEPTION IS PLANNED FOR MR. HIGGINSON + + +Thus it happened that the southbound local, which went through at +eight-ten, did not acquire Varney as a passenger that night; and his old +friend, Elbert Carstairs, did not meet his emissary at nine-thirty, or +indeed at any hour that evening. But two travelers for New York did +board the local at Hunston, and both of them, as it chanced, repaired to +the car provided for smokers, each for his own reasons. + +One of them straightway lighted a long cigar, which a gentleman had +given him that morning, doubtless unwisely, for he was not above twelve +years old. The other, who happened to sit in the seat just before him, +did not smoke. He was rendered conspicuous by the fact that he wore no +hat, and by the deadly pallor of his face, relieved only by a reddening +bump beneath the right eye. His clothes also were dirty and disheveled +till he seemed scarcely the superior in elegance of the little +ragamuffin behind him. + +So that it was not surprising that the amiable conductor, standing by +for the tickets and struck by the obvious likeness, should have +observed: + +"Your son's pretty young to be a-smokin' seegars, ain't he?" + +Mr. Stanhope, not knowing what this remark meant, and caring less, +answered with a cold stare, though inwardly he cursed the man for his +fatuous impertinence. That done, he relapsed dully into his own +thoughts, which were all of the house he had scurried from, terrified by +Peter's cry, half an hour before.... + +In that house, in Mr. Stanhope's own deserted bed, Varney lay at his +ease, as quiet as a statued man. Over the bed, industriously at work, +hung the keen-faced town doctor, whom Hare had gotten with a speed which +passed all understanding. At the foot of the bed stood Peter Maginnis, +his face like the face of a carven image. + +At the very moment when the garrulous conductor was trying to foist off +poor little Tommy Orrick upon Mr. Stanhope, the old doctor raised his +head. + +"He's not dead _yet_. An excellent chance I should say." + +Peter's face did not change. His hand tightened on the foot-board till +his nails whitened. It was as though he had pulled a signal cord which +ran unseen under the bed-clothes and rung a mysterious bell in some +remote corner of his friend's head. Varney immediately opened one eye, +let it rest on Peter and said in a clear voice: + +"You all right, Peter?" + +That done he relapsed immediately into unconsciousness again. The doctor +took out a large handkerchief, wiped his brow and smiled. Peter, his +quick relief like a storm of joy, went downstairs to tell his friends +of the Reform Committee, and do a thousand other things. + +By nine o'clock the town was ringing with the wild story, and in the +still watches of the later night the telegraph flung it to far places, +to be read in wonder next morning in a million homes. Overnight, the +great eye of the country turned like an unwinking searchlight upon the +dingy town by the Hudson where happened to dwell Mrs. Elbert Carstairs +and her only daughter, Mary. And all the world read how two men who were +doubles had strangely met in a lonely house with a drunken mob outside; +how one of them, who had earned the mob, turned the other out to face +it; how the son of a famous captain of industry had shamed the +Berserkers in his passionate muscularity: how one "double" had fled to +save his skin and how the other, battered almost beyond recognition, now +lay trembling between life and death. + +In Hunston, there followed next day a whirl of police activity, of which +the net results were tame in the extreme. Of all the fierce band which +had stormed the house of Mr. Stanhope, only poor old Orrick and Mr. +British, the bookseller--he who had been pulled out senseless from under +the beams of the porch--were identified. Mr. British flatly and +resolutely declined to testify as to who his comrades were, and old Sam +Orrick, terrified though he was by prospective horrors of the law, +loyally perjured his immortal soul by swearing that the men were all +strangers to him and that he believed them to be visitors from another +city. + +The count against these two proved to be only assault and battery, +though for three days and nights it was a toss of the coin whether they +would not have to answer for a graver charge. Peter's joy had soon +proved premature and the doctor's smile faded in unexpected +bewilderment. The sick man did not improve in the least. Delirium +followed hard upon deadly stupor and there seemed no rousing him from +either. + +The yellow cottage with the trampled flower-beds and smashed windows, +which looked so bare-faced with its front porch shaved away, had passed +to Peter for the moment by right of conquest. In it everything that +conducted to the comfort of ill man had been quickly and lavishly +installed. Everybody was wonderfully kind and thoughtful. Mrs. Marne, +who reached the cottage with Mrs. Carstairs half an hour after the +doctor the first night, and had done wonders before the nurses arrived, +was simply invaluable. Hare came night and morning, horribly formal and +ill at ease, begging for something to do. Flowers and inquiries from +total strangers were an hourly occurrence. From Charlie Hammerton came a +quart of magnificent Scotch, followed on the second day by a pile of +clippings from the _Gazette's_ exchanges which must have gratified the +injured man extremely if only he had been able to read them. His own +leading article, headed "Laurence Varney, Hero," Editor Hammerton +modestly suppressed. By the hand of sad-faced McTosh came a hideous +floral piece, in fact, a red, white, and blue star, bearing the label +"From the sorrowing crew of the _Cypriani_." Mrs. Carstairs, whose +emotions at the time were hardly fully understood in the yellow cottage, +called daily and sent beautiful roses and chicken jelly. The roses faded +and the chicken jelly was considerably enjoyed by the nurses. But from +Mrs. Carstairs's daughter, whose filial relations had invoked all these +things, there came neither flower nor word. + +The fight had taken place upon a Thursday night. On Friday, the Hunston +doctor, at his wits' end, had asked for a consultation. On Saturday, the +great doctor from the city had spent an hour in the sick-room, first +examining the patient in a bodily way, and then prodding him with a +tireless stream of questions, however futile--anything to make him talk. +At the end of that time he had whispered awhile with the town doctor and +drawn Peter into the study downstairs. + +"What's the matter with him, Mr. Maginnis?" he asked abruptly. + +"Matter?" echoed Peter. "Wasn't he beaten to a pulp?" + +"Kicks don't kill a man with that kind of physique. What has he got on +his mind?" + +"I don't know," said Peter, miserably. "The last time I saw him--" + +"Find out," said the great doctor, briefly. "If you don't, he may die. +He seems to have had a shock of some kind. You must work upon that line. +There is nothing the matter with his body that he can't throw off. But +he will not get well unless you put the idea into his head that he +_must_." + +And glancing at his watch, he bowed stiffly, and was whirled away to +the station. + +Peter was utterly at a loss. He had no idea what had taken Varney up the +road to Stanhope's that afternoon, much less of any shock that could +conceivably have come to him. But he set himself to find out. By the +next morning, partly through inquiry, partly through patching two and +two together, he had worked out a theory. Guesswork, of course, was +rather dangerous in a delicate matter such as this; but the doctor's +report after breakfast had been the very worst yet. Peter never +faltered. He picked up his hat from the study table, in front of which +he had been figuring these things out, and started down the hall. + +Mrs. Marne was sitting quietly on the bottom step of the stairway, her +dark head in her hands; and Peter was glad to see her. + +"I've found out a little about that," said Peter, in a low voice. "I +believe it was--to see Miss Carstairs that he came up the road that +day." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Marne. "I have heard that too." + +"She struck me," said Peter, "as a nice little girl. Probably she +doesn't understand the situation. I am going to see her now." + +"She won't see you," said Mrs. Marne. + +"Yes, she will," said Peter quietly, and started for the door. + +But Mrs. Marne caught him by the hand, protectingly, like an elder +sister, and drew him into the parlor and shut the door. + +Half an hour later Peter came out and went up the stairs. At the +landing he paused to take off his shoes, and went on up in his stocking +feet. + +It was Sunday morning, near eleven o'clock, a brilliant morning all sun +and wind. The far church bells of Hunston were ringing on the clear air +like chimes from another world. Never afterward could Peter hear the +Sunday bells without thinking of that moment. At the door, he met Miss +Nevin, the day-nurse, coming out. She said she was going to telephone +the doctor. + +Peter slipped into the darkened room and shut the door noiselessly +behind him. After a moment, he tipped over to the bed and sat down in +the nurse's chair, silently. The bed looked very fresh and white and +unrumpled, and that was because the injured man had for two days lain +almost wholly quiet. The thin coverlet defined his long frame perfectly. +Many bandages about the limbs and trunk made it look grotesquely bumpy +and misshapen. One arm, wrapped from shoulder to finger-tip was outside +the coverlet; now and then the hand, which was muffled large as a +boxing-glove, moved a little. Cloths ran slantwise about chin, brow, and +head, leaving only breathing space and one eye uncovered. + +Presently, as he became more used to the darkness, Peter observed that +the eye was open and regarding him incuriously: and he started in some +confusion. "Do you feel much pain now, old chap?" he began rather +huskily. + +"Pain?" repeated Varney, vaguely. "No, I don't feel any pain." + +"No pain! That's fine!" said Peter with lying cheerfulness, for he knew +that this deadness to sensation was the worst feature in the case. +"That--left leg is rather badly bruised, it seems. I was a little afraid +_that_ might be troubling you some." + +Silence. + +"Did Miss Nevin show you all your flowers? They 've just been pouring in +all day every day. We could turn florists to-day without spending a +penny for stock. Couldn't we, Larry, eh?" + +"Yes," said Varney laboriously. "We could." + +"Everybody has been so kind," continued Peter, desperately, "that upon +my word it's hard to pick and choose. If I were asked to say who had +really been kindest--let me see--yes, I'd name--Mrs. Carstairs. Flowers +and something to eat, some little dainty or delicacy, twice a day. The +fact is, old chap, to put it plainly, though I don't want to distress +you, you know--she is blaming herself about this. Blaming herself +greatly." + +"She oughtn't to do that," said Varney after a time. + +"Of course she ought n't to. Yet it's natural enough in a way. Of +course, I'm blaming myself, too--like the mischief--I'd had so many +warnings, you know. Little Hare is blaming himself. And Mr. +Carstairs--poor old fellow! I'll show you his letters when--the light's +a little better for reading. They're fine, honestly. Of course, he +wanted to come on right away, but I wouldn't let him." + +Silence again. + +"So you see how many of us," continued Peter, nearing his awkward +climax, "have been worried, _personally_, about this--trouble. And how +much, well--how much--happiness is bound up in your getting well. And by +the way--I declare I nearly forgot Miss Carstairs--I declare!" + +There was a long silence, which Peter resolved not to break. Through the +shuttered window, the distant bells chimed faintly into the room. The +sick man's stray arm moved restlessly on the coverlet, but otherwise he +lay quite still. + +At length Varney said: "When did you see Miss Carstairs? She +hasn't--been here--?" + +But poor Peter's errand was not so easy as that. He had no glad shaft of +promise with which to pierce that deadly Nessus-coat of apathy. + +"She couldn't come here, old chap," said Peter, very gravely. "You +hadn't heard, of course. Miss Carstairs is very ill." + +"Miss Carstairs is very ill," repeated Varney, not inquiringly, but like +a child saying over a lesson. + +"Awfully ill," said Peter encouragingly. "It seems that she came home +Thursday night a little after seven, looking very pale and badly, but +insisting that there was nothing the matter. She sat upstairs with her +mother until about eight, when somebody called her down to the +telephone. Well, she didn't come back. So after a while Mrs. Carstairs +sent down to find out why. The maid found her in the hall--in fact, on +the floor, I believe. She had fainted, you know. Yes--that was it. +Fainted dead away--poor little girl." + +After what seemed an eternity of waiting, Varney asked: "What was +it--do you know? At the telephone?" + +"Yes. It was Mrs. Marne. She called up Miss Carstairs in the first +excitement of--of your accident, it seems, and I'm afraid she gave a +very exaggerated and alarming account, you know. They put her to bed," +continued Peter clearing his throat, "and there she's been ever since. +The great shock, you know. Mrs. Marne saw her this morning--the first +time she had been admitted. It's all quite sad. Quite sad. We'll talk of +it again when--you're feeling a bit stronger." + +Varney, who had lain like a statue for two days and nights, had begun +moving a little under the coverlet, stirring first one swathed leg, then +the other, as though seeking vainly to shift his position. Now he said +at once: "I want to hear now." + +Peter gave a deep sigh. He thought, and rightly, that this was the best +thing that had happened yet. + +"Well, it's all very strange, Larry. When I said that it was the shock +of the accident that had made her ill, I did not tell the whole truth. +It seems that she is suffering from a terrible hallucination about it. +She feels in some strange way that the responsibility for all this--is +hers. She told Mrs. Marne that she was responsible for your being on the +road that night, and that she had been unfair about something or other, +and that but for that the--trouble would never have happened. I don't +pretend to understand it. But feeling as she does now--if anything were +to--to go wrong, the poor child would count herself--she would count +herself--" + +"Don't!" said Varney very clearly and distinctly. + +His face looked all at once so ghastly that Peter's heart stopped +beating. He thought in a horrible flash that the end had come, and that +he, Peter Maginnis, had brought it by tearing at the worst wound his +friend had. His clumsy diplomacy fell from him as at the last trump. He +dropped on his knees beside the bed with a groan. + +"For God's sake, Larry, don't leave _that_ mark to a child like her. +Don't give us all _that_ sorrow to carry to our graves--" + +But Varney had pulled his arms free and was clutching wildly at his +head-bandages with heavily swathed fingers. + +"You needn't worry about me," he said in a sharp anguished voice. "Great +Scott! What's--what's wrong with my _head_! It's killing me." + +He recovered with a speed which puzzled the old Hunston doctor even more +than his previous lethargy had done. Five days later he was well enough +to be lifted downstairs to the small back piazza, and here he lay +blanketed up in a reclining chair for half the sunny afternoon. + +A bundle of letters and telegrams lay on his covered knees; and going +slowly through them, he came presently to one from Elbert Carstairs, +arrived only that morning: + + "MY DEAR BOY: + + Words are feeble things at their best, + and I know of none that would convey to you my great + joy at the news that you are out of danger. By the same + mail, I have learned that my other dear sick one in Hunston + is quite herself again, and I say to God in gratitude + upon my knees that my cup is full." + +A pause in the reading here. The long hand of the nurse's clock on the +window-sill had crawled half around the dial before Varney raised the +letter again from his blanketed lap: + + "There is much in my heart to tell you, much to beg your + forgiveness for, but I shall keep it to say to you face to + face. Just now the keenest point in my grief is that all + this suffering I have brought upon you has been worse + than unnecessary. Light has come to me in these sleepless + nights, and I see now that there was a much better + way to seek what I sought, a far happier path." + +The letter slipped down upon the swathed knees again, and he lay staring +at the blown and sunny tree-tops. Presently the door at his side opened; +a man started to come through it, stopped short, and stood motionless on +the threshold. + +Varney slowly turned his head. In the doorway, to his dim surprise, +stood Mr. Stanhope's man, Henry, bowing, unobtrusive, apologetic, ready +to efface himself at a gesture like the well-trained servant he was. + +"Why--is that you, Henry?" + +"Harskin' your pardon for the hintrusion, sir," said Henry with a wooden +face. "I didn't know you were 'ere, sir. 'Opin' you are feeling improved +to-day, sir--if you please, Hi'll withdraw--" + +"Henry," said Varney, "that is no way for you to speak to me--after the +way you stood up for me that night. Come here." + +And he disentangled from his covers and held out a rather maimed-looking +hand. + +Then he saw the soul of the man whip through the livery of the menial +like a knife, and Henry, stumbling forward with a working face, clasped +that hand proudly in his strong white one: only he dropped on one knee +to do it, as if to show that, though gentlemen might be pleased to show +him kindness now and then, he perfectly understood that he was not as +they. + +"Ho, sir," he broke out in a tone very different from his +well-controlled voice of service, "I never seen a pluckier thing done, +nor a gamer fight put up. You make me too proud, sir, with your +'and--man to man ... I was shamed, sir, till I couldn't bear it when I +came to and learned that I 'ad not stayed with you, sir, to the end. +Three of them closed in on me, sir, and harskin' your pardon, sir, I was +whippin' hof 'em to standstill when one of them tripped me from be'ind, +sir,--" + +"Stand up, Henry," said Varney, rather agitated, "like the man you are." + +Henry stood up, with a jerky "Thank you, sir," striving with momentary +ill-success to get a lackey's mask back upon that quivering face. + +"I'll always remember you," said Varney with some difficulty, "as a good +and brave man. I don't think I'll ever forget how you disobeyed an +order--to try to save me. And now tell me--what became of your master?" + +"'E's in the village, sir," said Henry rather bothered by his throat +"I'm expecting 'im in any moment, sir--" + +"In the village?" repeated Varney, surprised. "Mr. Stanhope is in +Hunston?" + +"_Mr. Stanhope_!" said Henry with an insufferable contemptuousness for +which he at once apologized. "Harskin' your pardon, sir--I thought you +inquired for my master. Mr. Stanhope, I 'ave 'eard, sir, has sailed for +Europe." + +"Well, who's your master, then?" + +"Mr. Maginnis is my master, sir." + +Varney deliberated on this, and slowly smiled. "Well, you've got a good +one, Henry." + +"Thank you, sir. That's 'im now, sir. I 'ear 'is motor in the road. If +you'll excuse me, sir--I'll go and let 'im in." + +And he bowed and went away, only pausing in the entry to attend a moment +to his blurred eyes with the back of a supple hand. + +Peter stepped out into the porch with a cheery greeting and dropped into +a rocking-chair, looking worn and tired. The instant his heavy anxiety +over Varney was relieved, he had thrown himself back into the fight for +reform with a desperate vigor which entirely eclipsed all his previous +efforts. + +"We-ell," he said in answer to Varney's question, "we're humping +along--just humping along. Time's so confoundedly short, though. You +know, Larry, this business the other night is proving the best card +we've got. Fact. I haven't tried to tell you how worked up the people +have been about your--accident, and how most of them don't stand for it +for a minute. It's pretty well understood around town that politics was +back of it all in some way, though nobody can state a single fact, and +I've scoured the town for evidence without finding a scrap. Anyway, it's +the solemn fact, and the committee can prove it, that that feeling is +bringing over a lot of votes that we never could have reached otherwise +with a long distance 'phone." + +"Praise be that they're coming over, anyhow." + +"This fight," continued Peter, absorbedly, "is confoundedly interesting +because it is typical of what's going on all over the country. Hunston +is just a dingy little microcosm of the whole United States of America. +You can't blame these poor beggars here much, afraid of their jobs as +they are. It takes courage to make a break for virtue when the devil's +holding you by your bread and meat. But--well, I'd hate like the +mischief to lose, particularly since we've managed to come in for such a +beautiful lot of lime-light. You know this fight is being watched all +over the country, since that trouble? And hang it, it does make a +difference when the Associated Press carries half a column about you +every night. Do you remember that first night in Hunston, Larry," he +continued, "when you said that our part in the town's affairs must be +that of quiet onlookers only? Quiet onlookers! And now everybody in the +country is playing quiet onlookers on us. Our names are household words +in California, and I'm credibly informed that they're naming babies +after you all through the middle West. Funny, isn't it?" + +Varney assented with a laugh. Presently he said rather constrainedly: +"Peter--I want you to tell me a little about that night. Who was +caught?" + +Peter named the two. "They wouldn't testify," he explained, "and I +couldn't. Old Orrick was the only man I spotted. He will get punished +for assault. I don't see that they've got a case against British. He was +knocked out when the porch fell, and he hadn't done a thing then, except +yell probably. You can't hang a man for yelling in this State." + +"No. Did you--you--was anybody killed?" + +"Bless your heart, no!" cried Peter. "Why, it was only a little old +kicking-match and hair-pulling, you know, hardly worse than a college +rush." + +Varney looked suddenly and strangely relieved. + +"I'm mighty glad to hear that," he said, and presently added: "Have you +seen--Smith?" + +"Smith! He went to New York some days ago. I remember--it was the very +day you pulled up and got well. Why, what about him?" + +"Didn't you know? He was there that night," said Varney. "Right in the +thick of it, helping me." + +"Helping _you_! Smith!" + +Varney nodded. "The minute they closed in on me," he said after a +moment, "and we all bunched together, I felt that there was somebody in +there fighting on my side. Pretty soon I heard a voice in my ear, it +said: '_Keep on your pins as long as you can: these dogs'll trample you +if they get you down_.' I said, 'Is that you, Smith?' and he laughed +and said, '_Still on my studies_.' Then somebody hit me over the head +with something, and I went down and he went with me. He had one arm +around me, I remember. I've been thinking, ever since I could think at +all, that they might--might have finished him. I believe he saved my +life, Smith did." + +"Well--bully for him!" said Peter slowly, much impressed. "What on earth +struck him to do that, do you suppose? Well, well! I'll certainly look +that old boy up in New York and shake him by the hand." + +There was a considerable silence. At just the moment when Varney was +about to put another question, Peter opened his mouth and answered it. + +"However," he said, an irrepressible note of irritation creeping into +his honest voice, "even that was not the strangest thing that happened +that night. Not by a long shot." + +Varney's gaze fixed with sudden interest. "Higginson? You don't mean to +say that he turned up?" + +"I do. And got away with it again--confound his soul!" + +"What happened? Any more dirty work? Did anything get into the papers?" + +"No--oh, no! You've got that sized up wrong, Larry. He's no yellow +journalist or anything like that. He's only the slickest underground +worker this town ever saw--with his confounded apologetic, +worried-looking mask of a face. As for more dirty work--well, I guess +the bloodshed the other night scared him up so--" + +"But go on and tell me! Where'd you see him? What did you say and--" + +"Sitting in our front parlor, if you please, like a dear old friend of +the family." + +The remembrance of the way he had been affronted and outwitted chafed +Peter's spirit uncontrollably. He rose and began pacing up and down the +little porch, hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets. + +"About an hour after we put you to bed," he exploded, "I slipped +downstairs to tell Hare to keep everybody off the place. However, a lot +of people had already come in. I glanced in at the parlor and it seemed +full of them--Mrs. Carstairs and Mrs. Marne--they were the first to get +here after Hare's delegation--Hammerton and another man from the +_Gazette_, the committeemen, and several I'd never laid eyes on before. +Well, there in a corner, looking like a hired mourner at a nigger +funeral, sat that fellow Higginson. You could have knocked me flat with +a pin feather. I'm as sure as I stand here that it was he who worked up +that mob for Ryan, and the whole dirty scheme--and then coming around +with his tongue in his cheek to inquire after the victim! Can you beat +that gall?" + +"Not easily. What happened?" + +"They asked me how you were. I told'em. Then I said before the +room-full: 'I was very sorry to find you out this afternoon, Mr. +Higginson, when I called at your hotel.' The fellow looked white as a +sheet and mumbled something I couldn't catch. Well--I couldn't smash him +there before all the women, so I said: 'Please don't go away this time +until I see you. I'm most anxious to have a little private conversation +with you.' Oh, of course that was a mistake--I hate to think about it! +But--well, I was a good deal worried just then," he explained, rather +sheepishly, "and fact is, for the minute I wasn't thinking very much +about Higginson. I needn't add that he had sneaked when I came down +again. Had the cheek to leave behind a message with Hare saying he +regretted to miss me, but felt it his duty to escort the ladies home." + +Varney, though he had grounds for animosity which Peter never even +guessed, laughed aloud. But it was a brief laugh, which quickly faded. + +"And he's never been seen or heard of from that day to this? Well, for +my part," he went on, rather constrainedly, "I'm almost ready to believe +the man's a myth--a mere personification of evil--an allegorical name +for the powers of darkness--" + +"Myth!" cried Peter. "You'll see! Why, he's certain to turn up again, +Larry--absolutely certain. You couldn't keep him away with a flock of +cannon. If he doesn't come before, it's dead sure that he'll appear +among us again on election day--four days from now--just to see the +results of his pretty work. And when he does--" + +"Well?" said Varney, amused through his own heartsoreness by Peter's +vehemence. "When he does?" + +"I've got two men watching every train, day and night," said Peter. +"When Higginson sets foot in this town again, one man trails him, and +the other runs for me.... Well, I'm a generous and forbearing man, +Larry, and I recall that you havn't had much fun here. I'll--yes, hang +it all!--I'll bring the old rogue to you, dead or alive, and stand by in +silence while you speak him your little piece." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +IN WHICH VARNEY, AFTER ALL, REDEEMS HIS PROMISE + +From the roaring ovation which followed Peter's brief remarks there +emerged again the sudden, clean-cut silence. Mayor Hare--Mayor by the +narrowest margin in the heaviest vote ever cast in that town--stood upon +the improvised little stand and looked out over the packed square. He +rested one small hand upon the gay-clothed rail, and many people saw +that it quivered. The showy "demonstration" of Peter's planning, +brilliantly launched the moment the count was announced--the imported +brass-band, the triumphal procession with the bugles, the streamers and +the flag-wrapped carriages, and now the rostrum ready set and waiting in +the heart of the dense crowd--all had taken him completely by surprise. +His face showed it; yet he was not thinking of that exactly. All at once +the Mayor's mind had harked back to another moment, not so many days +before, when he had stood in this square to make a speech; and at the +rushing thought of the great contrast between that moment and this, +there rose in him a sense of gratefulness so deep that it took palpable +form, and stuck, suffocatingly, in his throat. + +The square swam before his blinded eyes. He took off his glasses and +wiped them frankly. Stiff formality left him, without a nod at parting, +carrying along the "few remarks" he had nervously thrown together in his +Roman progress up Main Street. + +"The modesty of the man who has just addressed you," he began +unsteadily, "will deceive no one. You all know what I owe to him--what +our town owes to him. You all know that if I am almost too proud and too +happy to speak at all just now, it is because a kindly chance sent Mr. +Maginnis to Hunston." + +Cheers, more cheers, and yet again cheers; cheers running on and on as +though they never meant to stop; spontaneous waves of applause that +meant, what nearly all knew, that Maginnis personally had captured +Hunston, and that his efficiency with a chair-leg had reared him into a +kind of demi-god among certain rough fellows of the baser sort. + +The speaker was resuming, not yet through with his tributes. His eye +flitting over the shouting crowd had fallen upon a face. + +"I know that both honesty and logic were on the side which Mr. Maginnis, +coming here a stranger, elected to support. But honesty does not always +make a winning cause, nor does logic. What I may call sympathy is often +better than both. The splendid help that we got from Mr. Maginnis +received this supplement. Sympathy came to aid Reform. A brutal outrage +sullied the name of our town--an outrage which, there is sad reason to +believe, was born of politics. The victim of that outrage, and the hero +of that terrible night, is happily with us to-day.... I will not offend +him with any words of praise. But may I not say in the market-place what +is the truism of the committee-room ... that when this gentleman did +what he did, he brought to Reform the sympathy which ... has made me +Mayor of Hunston." + +Every eye followed the direction of the speaker's glance and his grave +bow; and by the chance of good position, it happened that nearly all +could see. Upon a dingy porch, a few yards up the Main Street side of +the square, stood a tall, young man leaning on a cane, a wide felt hat +shading a rather badly marked face. And--there was no possibility of any +mistake--it was Jim Hackley's porch that he stood upon, and--yes--it was +Jim Hackley himself, a sober and genial Jim Hackley, who stood by his +side, in intimate pose, and grinning somewhat sheepishly into the glare +of fame which suddenly enveloped him. + +What part Hackley had borne in the events to which the orator had +referred was never officially known, but it may be said without +exaggeration that there had been suspicions abroad against him. His +present friendliness with the victim of those events, therefore, seemed +the gauge and symbol of penitence and reconciliation. + +It was the first time that Hunston had seen Varney since the night he +was hurt, and the first time that most of Hunston had ever seen him. The +story of his deeds and his sufferings, doubtless considerably +embellished and known to every one, made him a figure of keen popular +interest, and the cheers and hand-clappings now were thunderous, +compelling him to lift his hat again and again. Some even started a +swift descent upon the Hackley residence with the evident intention of +carrying the young man to the stand on their shoulders. But Hackley came +down to his gate to meet them and buffeted them away, explaining loudly, +like an old friend and generally acknowledged sponsor: "He ain't up to +it to-day, boys! Stand back!" + +"Go on with your speech," said Peter in a fierce undertone to Hare. +"He's going to faint." + +"Let us give honor to whom honor is due," cried Hare, hastily, and so +resumed his remarks. + +Peter's melancholy prediction, though it spread quickly among the crowd +after Varney left the porch, was quite unfounded. Varney had not the +least idea of fainting. At Hare's tribute, which was as unexpected as he +felt it to be totally undeserved, and the sudden rain of eyes upon him, +an unaccountable dizziness had seized him, while he stood reluctantly +bowing; he had thrust out his hand and caught hold of the post. This +blackness passed as quickly as it had come. The next instant he felt as +fit a man as ever; and to the tender requests of his host, Mr. Hackley, +that he should withdraw into the house for a "leetle rest-up," he +returned a laughing refusal. For this was his last appearance in +Hunston, as well as his first in recent days, and very strongly did he +desire to make it testify to his warm interest in the town's great day +and the personal triumph of his friend, Peter Maginnis. + +What removed Varney so abruptly from the Hackley porch and the public +view was the sudden fulfilment of quite another prediction of Peter's: +the one about the return to Hunston of the gum-shod Mr. Higginson. + +The news came without warning. At just the moment when the Mayor +replunged into his interrupted oratory, Varney became aware that a low, +anxious voice behind him was insistently calling his name. He turned, +and saw the figure of a man standing in Hackley's entryway, just inside +the door; he had evidently slipped in from the rear; and now, catching +the young man's eye, he began mysteriously beckoning and making signs. + +"Kin I speak to you a minute, Mr. Varney?" he called in the same +dramatic whisper. + +Varney, in some surprise, advanced to the doorway and stepped inside the +entry after the stranger--a poorly dressed fellow with an unshaven chin +and a collarless neck. + +"Well? What do you want, my man? And how do you know my name?" + +At that the man gave the air of exploding, though his voice remained +only a whisper, at once apologetic and immensely reproachful. + +"_Know_ your _name_, sir! Why, _excuse_ me for usin' it so free, but I +guess there ain't nobody in Hunston don't know _you_, Mr. Varney! Why, +Mr. Varney, my six-year-old kid c'd pick you right out o' that crowd out +there, same as 't was her pa, what with seein' your picture in the +papers an' all, an' I guess there ain't anything you'd ever want in +_Hunston_ you couldn't have just for the trouble o' namin' it." + +The random assertion struck some of the blood from the young man's +cheek, but he said good-humoredly: "Well, I'm glad to hear it. But tell +me who you are, and what I can do for you." + +The man's face, which had grown rather loose and mobile, instantly +became business-like and alert. + +"I'm 'Lije Stobo, Mr. Varney--Hackley'll tell you. I was hired a week +ago by Mr. Maginnis to watch trains for a certain party kind of expected +to show up here." His voice, already very low, dropped several tones +lower, as he hurriedly went on: "Well, Mr. Varney, the party come in on +Number 14 just now. It ain't five minutes ago since he stepped down on +the deepo platform--disguised in some pretty good glad rags, he was, but +o' course we spotted him right off, and--" + +"Higginson?" + +The man nodded. "My partner was with me--Callery--and we shadows our +party to the Palace Hotel where he takes Room 41 and sneaks upstairs. +Callery's sitting in the lobby now, and I runs out to take the tip to +Mr. Maginnis--but Lord bless you, Mr. Varney--" He pointed out the open +door in the direction of the little speaker's stand where Peter sat +impregnably walled in on all sides by dense human masses. "It might be +an hour before I could get to him through _that_. I was up against it, +f'r he'd sure kill me if I let our party give us the slip again, and +then I heard 'em all cheerin' you, and thinks I, _there's_ my man, +and--" + +Varney interrupted gratefully but briskly. + +"You did exactly right, Mr. Stobo. I have long been anxious to see +Mr.--that is, this party. In fact," he added, putting on his hat with +significant firmness, "it is because of some business that I have with +this party that Mr. Maginnis asked you to look out for him." + +Mr. Stobo's eyes ardently approved the young man's readiness for +"trouble." + +"Well, _sir_--that's took a load off'n my mind, I tell you! I'll just +skip on--will I, Mr. Varney?--and try to get the tip to Mr. Maginnis, as +my orders was. He was _that set_ on interviewin' this here party--but +Lor', he'd give him to you, same's himself. Only--are you _sure_ you're +feelin' up to it to-day, Mr. Varney? If mebbe you'd let me'r Callery go +along now, just in case, y' know--" + +Varney gave an answer which Mr. Stobo found completely reassuring. At +the same time, he rapidly produced his pocket-book and pulled out a bill +of alluring complexion. + +"I owe you a great deal for bringing me this information, Mr. +Stobo--more than I can repay. But perhaps you would let me--" + +He stopped suddenly, for the man had started backing off down the +entryway, a dull unaccustomed color showing in his grimy face. + +"You didn't mean it, Mr. Varney! Why, how'd I look my missus in the +face--let alone myself--and tell her I took money off'n _you_--" + +He disappeared out of the back door, and Varney, feeling uncomfortable +and disproportionately touched, put his spurned bill back in his +pocket. Hackley, now perceiving that his guest's visitor was gone, +turned his back on the speechmaking and hurried forward solicitously. + +"I could 'a' hit that Stobo sneakin' in a-botherin' and a-'noyin' you," +he said in tones of great sympathy. "I know how it is, Mr. Varney. Bit +of a inverlid myself, I am--no health and no constitootion whatsomever, +sir. Feelin' a leetle stiddier now, are you? Better lie down on my +parlor sofy a while and git rested up nice, hadn't ye?--many's the day +I've lazied there, Lord knows, tryin' f'r to coddle my strength back." + +Varney regretfully declined the offer. In fact, he must be going at +once, he said, as he had a rather important business engagement; and +would Mr. Hackley kindly show him the quiet back-exit to the street and +the outer world? + +Hackley, a tireless host, re-urged the charms of his sofy and cool +well-water for invalids; but his guest remained politely firm. So there, +on the little rear veranda, the two men parted with mutual esteem: +Varney expressing sincere thanks for all Mr. Hackley's courtesies; +Hackley compassionate over Mr. Varney's impaired constitution, but +boggling over what regrets might haply betray him into the grip of the +law's long arm. + +Varney traversed the clothes-hung backyard, came out into the dingy +alley, and made rapidly for the cross-street, where a string of +carriages showed that "the quality" of Hunston was not without interest +in the day's proceedings. He did not see the carriages; to himself he +seemed suddenly to walk in a great and silent solitude. There was noise +enough about him, in all conscience, for every sentence that fell from +Hare's lips was punctuated by a salvo; but the tumult beat itself to +stillness against the closed fastness of his mind. + +Under his eye, half way down the block to which he drew near, rose the +weatherworn flank of the Palace Hotel. Somewhere within the ugly pile +was his mortal enemy Higginson, trapped to his reckoning at last. Within +five minutes they two would stand face to face; and he had long since +promised himself that Higginson would remember the meeting for as long +as he lived. A moment ago, the thought had filled him with a strange +exhilaration: the prospect of a final accounting with the intriguing +fly-by-night who had wronged him past all forgiveness had set his blood +to leaping. But, exactly because that wrong went so deep, his +pleasurable excitement ebbed faster than it had mounted. The wound that +he had had from Higginson was one that no vengeance would heal. And with +the recurrence of this knowledge his battle-joy flickered and went out +like a spent match, and the little alley was a war-list no longer but a +stretch without end of dry and dusty years.... + +"I was lookin' for yer, Mist' Varney," said a husky, abashed voice. + +Varney stared down at the small apparition before him with momentary +unrecognition. + +"Why--Tommy! Heaven bless us! Where did you spring from, boy?" + +Tommy's eyes fell in awe, but sure enough, he was sticking out his +small flipper in salutation. In fact, he had shaken hands a number of +times since that first memorable occasion, and, in his way, was +gradually beginning to catch the spirit of the thing. + +"Kem up on the two-forty-five. Wit' Hauser's band. Got a loan of t'ree +bucks off a frien'." + +"The mischief you did! Where do you find friends like that nowadays? But +what on earth made you pop back here? To hear Hauser's play and see all +the fireworks?" + +Tommy examined his toe with affected interest and shook his head. + +"What then? Don't you like it in New York?" + +"Yasser. Noo York's all right, it is." And reluctantly he added: "You +be'n sick, ain't you? Thought I'd come and see how you was makin' it. +Come afore now, on'y I couldn't get next to de price." + +"Tommy," said Varney, snuggling the boy's left hand into his own right +and resuming the promenade, "you're a mighty good friend to me." + +They emerged into the street where a double line of vehicles, some of +them gay with bright hats and parasols, flanked the curb on either side, +and Varney turned north, his back to the square, unconscious of the many +curious glances that were flung at him as he passed. + +"Tommy," said Varney, "I'm bound for the hotel on business, but I'm not +going to pull you away from all the fun--" + +"Wut, that? That ain't no fun, sir." + +"Don't you suppose I know fun when I meet it in the road, you little +rascal? You stay here till it's all over and then I want you to come +down to the yacht, and we'll have some dinner. Then I'll put you up for +the night and to-morrow morning we'll go to New York together, eh? How's +that?" + +But Tommy said: "Nawser. We can't go yet. Somebody sent me to bring you. +We got a car'dge here--" + +"A carriage?" + +"A victori'," emphasized Tommy. + +"A victoria! All this on three bucks, Tommy! Well, well! You are the +spender, though." + +"Here's _our_ victori'!" said Tommy proudly. + +They halted abruptly before an open carriage ... a victoria, indeed: a +handsome double victoria, all polished dark wood and blue upholstery and +shining nickeled harness, and sleek bay horses. This he saw in the first +flash, wondering by what miracle Tommy Orrick had secured control of so +glorious an equipage. And then ... there was the pretty edge of a +furbelowed skirt upon the carriage-floor ... a dainty patent-leather toe +upon the foot-rest ... an unrolling panorama of white-gloved hands, pale +buff dress, great plumed hat, eyes not seen yet known to be blue to +match the upholstery ... an exquisite lady sitting in the victoria. And +this lady had recognized his presence, first with a faint frightened +"Oh!" and then with a movement of those great hat-plumes which was +beyond all doubt or cavil a bow ... a bow of proper and civil greeting. + +For him that meeting was stunning in its entire unexpectedness. The +landscape went off in protest, exploded in pyrotechnic marvels; the +earth spun and cavorted; the solar system was disrupted and planets ran +amuck with din unbelievable. But he was used to these cataclysms now, +and out of the roar of breakage he heard a voice much like his own +saying pleasantly: + +"Tommy refers to this calmly as _his_ carriage, Miss Carstairs. See what +a week of New York has done for him. Where did he disappear to--did you +notice? A great day it has been"--in the rising inflection of +farewell--"hasn't it?" + +Came out of space in answer, like a fluttering bird from nowhere, a +voice that had once seemed music in his ears: + +"I sent him ... to look for you. They said that you were ... ill. +Perhaps you would let us drive you to the river?" + +"And make you miss the speech?" continued this easy and agreeable young +man, whom Laurence Varney, a great distance off, stood dumbly and +watched from the swirling void with a certain remote admiration. "Of +course not. I was never better in my life and the walk will be pleasant +on so nice an afternoon. But thank you very much." + +Again his tone held the faint inflection of finality, of leave-taking. +Came again the voice like tossed chimes out of space: + +"Then ... won't you stay and hear the end? It would please Mr. Hare. +From this carriage ... you can see and hear everything very well." + +"Thank you," said the debonair spirit, rather carelessly--while +Laurence Varney, off in another world, clutched at the invitation, +fought for it, lied, thieved, prayed, lived and died for it--"I'm afraid +I must go on now." + +"There is something I wanted to say. And ... a message." + +A shuffling of the cosmos, a shrieking readjustment of the universe, and +he found himself sitting on a blue upholstered seat staring at two great +golden moons, which later on turned out to be, after all, mere burnished +buttons upon a coachman's purple back. + +So, not for the first time, the sudden meeting with a lady knocked from +the young man's head all recollection of his enemy. And if their parting +had taken place in the entire privacy of a country road, their +re-meeting, certainly, was in the fullest view of the many. Only, +luckily, nobody chanced to be looking, or within eavesdropping distance; +and even the coachman presently removed himself to stand at his horses' +restive heads. Tommy's carriage happened to be the last one in the line. +Behind it the street was a desert. Before it was nothing but a packed +army of backs. + +"I did not know that you were here until Mr. Hare spoke. And they all +began to look...." + +"Mr. Hackley especially invited me to share his porch ..." and the other +Varney, not the one who sat so stiff and mute, desperate eyes glued on +the far horizon, but the easy, negligent Varney, gay dare-devil that he +was, actually achieved a pleasant laugh. "I must show you his note. It's +been a long time since I have had anything to please me so much." + +He unfolded and held out into the blue empyrean a rather soiled bit of +paper, which a small white-gloved hand descended from heaven like a dove +and took. Then, presumably, this was duly read: + + MR. VARNEY. dear sir: Announcment of Election will + be made in the Squair this p.m. around 6 p.m. Would + feel onered if you would come to my Poarch where everthink + can be seen & heard & no crouding, Josle ect. + Will call at your Yot with horse and Bugy around 5 p.m. + this p.m. if agreble though you don't nead no eskort anywairs + in Hunston, the Unfortunit mistaik having been + diskovered. Noing your intrest in our Poltix will add + that I voated for Mister Hair, first think this a.m. with + sorro for the Past and hoapes for your Speady convlessense, + + Resp. + + J. HACKLEY. + + S.P.--Should you come to my Poarch all would no as + bygorns was bygorns. + +"Wasn't that kind of him?" he asked when the note had again come down +into the ornamental lap, which was the upper line of his range of +vision. "And thoughtful. But then everybody has been so wonderfully kind +to me. I think I shall remember Hunston as altogether the kindest town I +ever saw." + +There was quite a silence after that. + +"I am like Jim," came the voice beside him, troubled chimes waving +bravely, "in having wronged you by ... an unfortunate mistake. You have +forgiven him, haven't you ... let by-gones be by-gones? Can you do as +much ... for me?" + +"Don't," he begged with sudden hoarseness--and there the mannersome +insouciant Varney waved an easy hand and blew himself away, like the +rascally light o' heels he was--"I have to ask forgiveness of you--not +give it," he said. + +"You have much to forgive. That day in the road--I was angry. I was not +just ... not fair. I am mortified to remember ... what I said to you." + +His heart contracted for the trouble in her voice; his spirit made +obeisance to the courage which carried her so perfectly through that +pretty suit for pardon; but for himself-- + +"There is not one thing--believe me--that your goodness can reproach +itself for--not one thing for you to be sorry for. If you have forgiven +me now--for all that you had to forgive--I go away quite happy." + +His first easy composure, which far outmatched her own, had unsteadied +her. His wasted and scarred face, which she had been quite unprepared +for, had shocked her inexpressibly. And now there was this new thought +knocking at the door of her mind--that he was going away quite happy. + +"There was something else I wanted to tell you ... if you could wait a +moment ... some news." + +He turned toward her with a movement of pleasant interest, meant to +verify his recent gallant promise; but he turned so quickly that his +face had no time to come into the kindly conspiracy, and no triumph of +hyperbole could have described its look as happy. + +"Yes? Good news, I hope?" + +"I won't ... be cowardly and let you think that this was accidental ... +my seeing you ... and telling you that I'm sorry. We--we were going to +drive down to the yacht ... after the speeches were over. I don't +understand it all yet, but this afternoon a great thing happened. There +came a letter from my father ... and everything is all settled now. He +... wants my mother ... more than me, now. Why shouldn't I tell you? It +is what I have longed for ... prayed for every night ... for twelve +years. We are going to New York--to-morrow--to see my father." + +His great gladness at that made him forget himself entirely, and for the +first time he could look at her. + +"Why, I can't _tell_ you how glad I am! How tremendously happy that +makes me!" + +She sat back in her cushioned seat, still as a sculptured lady, hands +clasped on her silken lap, eyes gone off down the street, though not for +vision, to where Hare was thundering a splendid peroration. He had +already become aware, without looking at her, that she was richly and +beautifully dressed; but he was hardly prepared for the effect which +such a setting would have upon her face. For all his conjuring of +memory, he had forgotten that she looked quite like that.... + +"Yes ... it makes me happy, too. And my mother wants to ask you--no, I +do--that is, both of us want to ask you--if you won't allow us to go +down ... in the yacht?" + +Misunderstanding, the senseless world started mad antics again; but +Intelligence, which saw more clearly, reached out a long arm and jerked +it firmly back on its feet. + +"Allow you! It's exactly what I'd like most _immensely_. She's all ready +for you--I'll have my things off her in no time--catch the eight-ten +to-night and go straight to congratulate Uncle Elbert. How great to see +him so happy! I 'll run right down to the yacht this minute and attend +to it." + +"There is nothing to attend to ... is there? You said she was all ready. +Of course we could not let you--leave her. We could not go in the yacht +... unless you will go with us." + +But speech stuck in his throat like a bone gone wrong. She would get no +help from him; that was evident. If suffering had wrought miracles of +absolution, she alone could make that plain. + +"You came to Hunston ... to take me to my father ... didn't you?" said +Mary Carstairs. "Why ... won't you do it?" + +A fugitive wave of pallor ran up her cheek, leaving its white trail +behind. She knew now that she had said the last word to him that she +could say, and that if he wanted to go away, he must go. The heavy +curtain of her lashes fell, veiling her eyes ... but, as it chanced, +fell slowly. He had turned at her words, very quickly; he caught the +curtain half-drawn, and a look come and gone like an arrow had shot +through those windows into the lit place beyond. + +"I could only do that," he began unsteadily--"I--you know how it is with +me.... To the longest day I live--I'll love you ... with every breath I +draw. I could not do that--unless ... Will you marry me?" + +The stillness about them then was like a tangible thing, measureless and +infinite. But into it faltered almost at once that voice like silver +bells. + +"If you're _perfectly sure_ you want me to," said Mary faintly. + +Her eyes met his in a wonderful union, divinely sealed the promise of +her lips, stamped it forever and ever with a heavenly stamp.... + +The bay horses curveted and pranced, the coachman sprang to his seat, a +big red motor backed, snorted, honked, and whizzed past them. The +speechmaking was over. The little line of gay carriages, breaking itself +into pieces, was maneuvering for rights of way homeward. The bay horses, +turning, too, were caught in the press and must needs go slowly: so that +the whole vivid pageant might have been but the ordered setting for this +moment--for Laurence Varney and the girl he had sworn to carry home to +her father.... + +In the square, the lingering crowd, attuned to cheering, was summoning +one name after another to noisy felicitation. Out of the tumult rose one +persistent voice, clamoring a changeless request. Yes, it was Hackley's +voice, very near, evidently on his own front porch, and he was saying +over and over: "Lemme ask you! Lemme ask you!" And about the moment the +victoria--Tommy's victori' (Tommy himself, if the truth be known, riding +snugly on the back springs at that very moment)--got safely put about, +Mr. Hackley secured what public notice he required and divulged the +nature of his request. + +"_Fellers, what's the matter with Varney_?" + +Instantly a thousand voices pulverized the man's fatuous anxiety. Hard +after, as the gallant slogan swept on to make assurance doubly sure, +they gave back the name in a roar like the rush of waters.... + +But the man for whom all the voices strained themselves did not hear +their doubt-destroying response, tumultuous though it was. Another +voice, close beside him, had taken up that refrain, making all others +inaudible, a shy, glad, whispering voice of chimes. + +"_He's all right_." + +The common words were glorified by that voice, made over into a sweet +and solemn benediction. He sat very silent, humbled and awed by the +revealed visage of his own great happiness. At last she found courage to +venture a look at him; and she saw that over his pale and disfigured +face there had come a kind of glory, the joy of sudden peace out of +pain. + +Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, +though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond +speech. + +"Would you mind stopping at the hotel--only a minute? I--have an old +enemy there, and I feel that I _must_ see him." + +"Oh, no, no!--must you? Oh, please--I can't let you go now! And I am +afraid--afraid of what might happen--" + +She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she +had not followed his thought. + +"I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's +all right now." + +There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had +left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from +which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly +gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now +he could turn his shining face fully toward her. + +"You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy _to-day_!" + +As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added: + +"And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a +fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being--in love with all the +world. I--I--I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But--this is +a duty, and--and--good-bye!" + +She never forgot the look upon his face. + +"Good-bye. And oh! would you please _hurry_?" + +With an herculean effort he detached himself from the carriage and +rushed into the hotel. The same bored-looking clerk was sitting behind +the desk, paring the same nails with the same office scissors. But this +time, at sight of Varney, he sprang instantly to his feet, all smiles +and eagerness to serve. + +"Why, _good_ evening, Mr. Varney! Well, sir! You're lookin' better'n we +expected, and I tell you Hunston's mighty glad to see you up and about +again." + +Varney marveled how he had ever formed such a mean opinion of the clerk, +whom he now saw to be a decidedly likable young man. + +"Thank you--thank you! It's a wonderful little city--Hunston--wonderful! +Try a few of these cigars--that's right; fill your pocket. And would you +be good enough to send my card up to Mr. Higginson? Perhaps I'd better +write just a line--" + +"Mr. Higginson's in the small parlor, Mr. Varney--straight down the +corridor. Yes, sir! Just came down and went in--I think he saw you +coming--" + +"And ran away again? Why, bless me, what's the old chap afraid of?" + +He started gayly down the dim hall to the right of the desk, swinging +his stick and humming to himself; and presently became aware that a man +was following silently at his elbow. + +"It's me--Callery," said the man apologetically, as Varney turned. "I--I +'ll just be here, Mr. Varney, you know, if anything's wanted." + +Varney laughed again. "You're mighty good to me, Mr. Callery," he said +cordially--"you and Mr. Stobo--I can't tell you how much I appreciate +it. But it isn't a bit of use, you know! I'm positively not going to +kill anybody to-day." + +"Yes, sir," said Callery. "Here's the door, Mr. Varney." + +"This one?" + +"Yes, sir. He come runnin' down the steps, spoke a word to the clerk, +and then he dodges down here and slams the door behind him. Seen you +through the window, I guess--" + +"Well, I'll just step in and have a look at him, Mr. Gallery. Excuse me +a minute." + +He rapped on the closed door and called in a loud cheery voice: "Mr. +Higginson." + +"Come in," said a voice from within--a rather agitated voice which had a +curiously familiar ring in the young man's ears. + +Varney swung open the door, stepped into the small parlor, and (greatly +to the disappointment of Mr. Gallery) closed the door behind him. + +In the middle of the room, staring nervously toward the door, stood a +handsome elderly gentleman, of distinguished presence and clothes of a +rather notable perfection. At sight of him the young man's advance +halted in utter bewilderment, and he fell back limply against the shut +door. + +But the elderly gentleman came running toward him with a suppressed cry, +and seizing the young man's hand disarmingly in both his own, threw +himself almost hysterically upon his apologia. + +"Can you forgive me, my boy? Ah, I'll confess that I've dreaded this +meeting, while longing for it, too! You look badly--ah, very +badly!--yet--not bitter, not resentful--thank God, not unhappy! My boy, +can you find it in your heart to forgive an old man who has suffered +deeply for his sins?" + +Out of his whirling confusion, his insane sense of the world suddenly +gone upside down and the familiar order stood upon its head, the young +man laughed dazedly. But he kept tight hold of the old one's hand, and +fell to patting it with wild reassurance. + +"Everything's all right--all right! Yes, indeed, sir. Of course! But I +don't understand--I don't grasp--I came here looking for--Are +you--_you_--Mr. Higginson?" + +"Ah, you hadn't guessed then? And yet who could wonder, such a terrible, +frightful mix-up as it all became! You see," the old gentleman hurried +on, lowering his gaze, yet already recovering something of his normal +composure, "you had scarcely started before I--I became strangely uneasy +over the--seriousness of the matter and the possible consequences, +and--and decided that I had best come on myself in--in a private manner, +merely to have an eye on things. Believe me, that was all I meant. But I +did not dare let you know that I was here, even in that way, having +promised you that I would not interfere, and besides--I feared that you +might think I had--ah--withheld the full facts about--her age." + +In an access of nervous self-consciousness, the old man's voice trailed +to an uncertain pause; and Varney comforted him with a burst of +bewildered laughter. + +"Forgive my glassy stare--no offence intended, but my head's going +around, Mr. Higginson! It's all still nebulous, you +know--topsy-turvy--incredible! That day of the luncheon, now--the +mysterious warning--the bribe to Ferguson to smash up the yacht--" + +A fine flush spread over the old man's face to the roots of his +silvered hair. Yet it was obvious that the young man's unaffected +cordiality had heartened him immensely. + +"Well, you see, my dear boy," he began, embarrassedly, "by that time I +had met her--she was so sweet to me from the start--and I began to hope +that such heroic, such painful, measures might not be necessary. Yet +perhaps they would be, after all, and so--ah, I did wrong, I +know--wrong!--and yet--don't you see how inevitably it all came about? I +did not dare communicate with you, begging you to let matters stand a +few days--fearing that upon learning of my presence you would simply +abandon the commission entirely, and God knows you would have been +justified in doing so. Yet I longed to postpone the--the final step, +holding it in reserve, in the ardent hope that it might be avoided +entirely. So I--gave instructions to Ferguson. It was wrong not to trust +you, and oh, I have been punished for it, suffered miserably--" + +"_Dear_ sir! I'm so sorry! But that is all past now--all past--and +to-day all's right with the world!" + +The old man's hands tightened their earnest clasp. Tears sprang suddenly +into his fine eyes. + +"But oh, I have been richly blest, too--far beyond my deserts! The night +that you were hurt--I came quite unexpectedly face to face with Mrs. +Carstairs at the cottage. We had a long talk that night--a wonderful +talk, which gave me a totally new point of view, brought me new light +and peace. And now--everything is arranged, and if you have truly +forgiven me, I am happy as I never dreamed for happiness again." + +"Forgiven you! For what, dear sir? Why, don't you begin to guess yet +what you have done for me?" + +He tucked the old man's hand masterfully under his arm, and drew him to +the door. + +"God bless you, boy, for what _you've_ done for me and mine. +But--where--where are we going?" + +"Out into the world," said Varney, "where Mary Carstairs is waiting for +you and me." + +"But--but--I feel extremely nervous--does she know?" + +"She is going to know in about thirty seconds, and we are the three +happiest people in America." + +"I think," said the old man palely, "that she--she likes me--" + +"In less than a minute," said the young one, "she is going to love you." + +His voice betrayed him a little on the words, but he instantly recovered +his poise, and, hand on the knob, faced the other with his gayest smile. + +"Tell me, Mr. Higginson--_did_ you skip to New York that afternoon, when +Maginnis and I, you know, dashed up here to assassinate you?" + +"Yes," replied the handsome old intriguer with a nervous cough, "yes, +I--you see, it had been reported to me that Mr. Maginnis had threatened +to horsewhip me in the public square, after my attempt to buy the paper +and save us all from scandal. So naturally, on the afternoon you +mention, I--I anticipated trouble. However, I quietly returned to +Hunston on the next train back, going, of course, to a different hotel, +a most dreadful little place--" + +Varney shouted. + +"It's just as Peter said, I declare! You're the noblest plotter of them +all, Mr. Higginson. Dear old Hunston will not look upon your like +again." + +The two enemies came out into the corridor arm-in-arm, and advanced in +utter amity to the doorway. And as they walked, Varney's tongue +unloosed, and he spoke his still incredible happiness aloud: only, +because he was not Latin and exuberant, he spoke it according to the +indirect uses of his race. + +"That man we passed standing in the hall--the one with the face of +incredulity and chagrin--was old Callery--horribly miffed because you +and I failed to lock in mortal combat. He's a fine fellow, Callery is, +only I imagine he's had a lot of hard luck. Did you ever see a prettier +little hotel than this--I mean, of course, for a town of this size? +_Look_! That's the clerk behind the desk there. An amazingly clever +fellow--you just ought to have seen how sharp he was in knowing where +you were--and that's a _Cypriani_ cigar he's smoking, if you'd like to +know. Jim Hackley's house is just over on the other corner--why, you can +_see_ it from here. I want you to know Hackley, sir! A great big +whimsical fellow with a fist like a ham and a heart like a woman's.... +Ah!..." + +They emerged from the hotel upon the noisy street, still lively with the +rush of home-goers; and now the two men stood side by side before the +waiting carriage, and Varney's flow of talk had ceased. + +From the square there came the shouts of many lingerers, making merry +in the tail of the great day according to their desire. Down either +sidewalk poured a stream of people, laughing, talking, and calling to +each other; the street still rumbled under passing vehicles; the Palace +Hotel, in particular, had become a lodestone and near to Tommy's +victoria much human traffic converged. In truth, it was a public place +where all who wished could see, and many did see. Yet there was nothing +in the little scene to fix the gaze of the casual wayfarer: a young girl +sitting in a well-appointed carriage, and two men, one young and one +old, approaching with bared heads to speak to her. Only a close observer +would have been likely to notice that the old man's cheek was markedly +pale, and that upon the marred face of the younger one there had +descended a strange and solemn look.... + +For Mary there had been no surprise in seeing the young man come out to +her with the old one on his arm--had he not told her that he went in +peace?--and even the glorious metamorphosis in Mr. Higginson's +appearance quite failed to arrest her attention. She had smoothed his +approach with a welcoming smile and the beginning of a gay greeting; but +her eyes were for her lover. And now as she saw the look on Varney's +face, and became aware of the odd and impressive silence in which he +stood, like one called to officiate at some high ceremony, understanding +incredibly dawned within her, and she was suddenly without speech or +breath. Her little greeting was never finished; all at once her face, +grown wonderfully sweet, was whiter than the old man's own; and the +eyes which she now turned back to him were full and overfull of tears. + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, not quite steadily, "may I have the great +honor of presenting your father?" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captivating Mary Carstairs, by +Henry Sydnor Harrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + +***** This file should be named 9993-8.txt or 9993-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/9/9993/ + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/9993-8.zip b/9993-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f55d10 --- /dev/null +++ b/9993-8.zip diff --git a/9993.txt b/9993.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..332e6d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/9993.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10808 @@ +Project Gutenberg's Captivating Mary Carstairs, by Henry Sydnor Harrison + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Captivating Mary Carstairs + +Author: Henry Sydnor Harrison + +Posting Date: November 15, 2011 [EBook #9993] +Release Date: February, 2006 +First Posted: November 6, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + +BY + + +HENRY SYDNOR HARRISON + + +WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY R.M. CROSBY + +(_This book was first published pseudonymously in February, 1911_) + + + + +1910, 1914. + + + + +TO NAWNY: HER BOOK + + + + +_NOTE_ + + +_This book, representing the writer's first effort at a long story, has +something of a story of its own. First planned in 1900 or 1901, it was +begun in 1905, and finished at length, in a version, three years later. +Through the two years succeeding it underwent various adventures, +including, if memory serves, two complete overhauling. Having thus +reached by stages something like its present form, it was, in August, +1910, favorably reported on by the publishers; but yet another rewriting +preceded its final acceptance, a few weeks later. Meanwhile, I had +turned to fresh work; and, as it chanced, "Queed" was both begun and +finished in the interval while "Captivating Mary Carstairs" was taking +her last journeys abroad. Turned away by two publishers, the newer +manuscript shortly found welcome from a third. So it befell that I, as +yet more experienced in rejections, suddenly found myself with two +books, of widely different sorts and intentions, scheduled for +publication by different publishers, almost simultaneously. As this +seemed to be more books than society required from an unknown writer, it +was decided to put out the present story--which is a "story," as I +conceive the terms, and not a novel--over a pen name. + +At that time, be it said, with an optimism that now has its humorous +side, I viewed myself prospectively as a ready and fertile writer, +producing a steady flow of books of very various sorts. Hence it +occurred to me that a pseudonym might have a permament serviceability. +So far from these anticipations proving justified, I am now moved to +abandon the pseudonym in the only instance I have had occasion to use +it. Writers have sometimes been charged with seeking to capitalize their +own good fortune. My motive, in authorizing the republication of this +story over my name, is not that. The fact is only that experience has +taught me not to like pseudonymity: my feeling being that those who take +an interest in my work are entitled, if they so desire, to see it as a +whole_. + +H.S.H. + +_Charleston, West Virginia, 16 March, 1914_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I The Chief Conspirator Secures a Pal + +II They Embark upon a Crime + +III They Arrive in Hunston and Fall in with a Stranger + +IV Which Concerns Politics and other Local Matters + +V Introduces Mary Carstairs and Another + +VI The Hero Talks with a Lady in the Dark + +VII In which Mary Carstairs is Invited to the Yacht "Cypriani" + +VIII Concerning Mr. Ferris Stanhope, the Popular Novelist; also Peter, +the Quiet Onlooker + +IX Varney Meets with a Galling Rebuff, while Peter Goes Marching On + +X The Editor of the _Gazette_ Plays a Card from His Sleeve + +XI Which Shows the Hero a Fugitive + +XII A Yellow Journalist Secures a Scoop but Fails to Get Away with it + +XIII Varney Meets His Enemy and is Disarmed + +XIV Conference between Mr. Hackley, the Dog Man, and Mr. Ryan, the Boss + +XV In which Varney Does Not Pay a Visit, but Receives One + +XVI Wherein Several Large Difficulties are Smoothed Away + +XVII A Little Luncheon Party on the Yacht "Cypriani" + +XVIII Captivating Mary + +XIX In which Mr. Higginson and the Sailing-Master Both Merit Punishment, +and Both Escape it + +XX Varney, Having Embarked upon a Crime, Finds out that there is a Price +to Pay + +XXI Mr. Ferris Stanhope Meets His Double; and Lets the Double Meet +Everything Else + +XXII Relating How Varney Fails to Die; and Why Smith Remained in +Hunston; and How a Reception is Planned for Mr. Higginson + +XXIII In which Varney, after all, Redeems His Promise + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + + + +Captivating Mary Carstairs + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR SECURES A PAL + +In a rear room of a quaint little house uptown, a great bronzed-faced +man sat at a piano, a dead pipe between his teeth, and absently played +the most difficult of Beethoven's sonatas. Though he played it divinely, +the three men who sat smoking and talking in a near-by corner paid not +the least attention to him. The player, it seemed, did not expect them +to: he paid very little attention himself. + +Next to the selection of members, that is, no doubt, the most highly +prized thing about the Curzon Club: you are not expected to pay +attention unless you want to. It is a sanctuary where no one can bore +you, except yourself. The members have been chosen with this in mind, +and not chosen carelessly. + +Lord Pembroke, who married a Philadelphian, is quoted as saying that the +Curzon is the most democratic club in a too confoundedly democratic +country. M. Arly, the editor, has told Paris that it is the most +exclusive club in the world. Probably both were right. The electing +board is the whole club, and a candidate is stone-dead at the first +blackball; but no stigma attaches to him for that. Of course, it is a +small club. Also, though money is the least of all passports there, it +is a wealthy club. No stretch of the imagination could describe its dues +as low. But through its sons of plutocracy, and their never-ending +elation at finding themselves in, has arisen the Fund, by which poor but +honest men can join, and do join, with never a thought of ways and +means. Of these Herbert Horning, possibly the best-liked man in the +club, who supported a large family off the funny department of a +magazine, was one. He had spurned the suggestion when it was first made +to him, and had reluctantly foregone his election; whereon Peter +Maginnis had taken him aside, a dash of red in his ordinarily composed +eye. + +"How much?" he demanded brutally. + +"How much for what?" + +"How much for you?" roared Peter. "How much must the club pay you to get +you in?" + +Horning stared, pained. + +"God meant no man to be a self-conscious ass," said Peter more mildly. +"The club pays you a high compliment, and you have the nerve to reply +that you don't take charity. I suppose if Congress voted you a medal for +writing the funniest joke in America, you'd have it assayed and remit +the cash. Chuck it, will you? Once in a year we find a man we want, and +then we go ahead and take him. We don't think much of money here but--as +I say, how much?" + +The "but" implied that Horning did, and hurt as it was meant to. He came +into the club, took cheerfully what they offered him that way, and felt +grateful ever afterwards that Maginnis had steered him to the light. + +The big man, Maginnis himself, sat on at the piano, his great fingers +rambling deftly over the keys. He was playing Brahms now and doing it +magnificently. He was fifteen stone, all bone and muscle, and looked +thirty pounds heavier, because you imagined, mistakenly, that he carried +a little fat. He was the richest man in the club, at least so far as +prospects went, but he wore ready-made clothes, and one inferred, +correctly, that a suit of them lasted him a long time. He looked capable +of everything, but the fact was that he had done nothing. But for his +money and a past consisting of thirty years of idleness, he might have +been the happiest dog alive. + +"The best government," said one of the three men who were not listening +to the piano, "is simply the surest method for putting public opinion +into power." + +The sentence drifted over the player's shoulder and Brahms ended with a +crash. + +"Balzac said that," he cried, rising abruptly, "and said it better! But, +good heavens, how you both miss the point! Why, let me tell you." + +But this they stoutly declined to do. Amid laughter and protests--for +the big man's hobbies were well known to the club--two of them sprang up +in mock terror, and headed for the door. They indicated that they had +promised each other to play billiards and dared not break the +engagement. + +"I couldn't stay to the end, anyway, Peter," explained one, from the +door. "My wife sits up when I'm out after midnight. Meet me here for +breakfast some bank-holiday, and we'll give the day to it." + +Maginnis, who never got over feeling disappointed when he saw his +audience slipping away from him, sighed, searched through his frowzy +pockets for a match, lit his pipe, and fell upon a lounge near to all +the society that was left him. + +"Why weren't you up?" said this society presently. + +"The idea of dinner was repellent to me." + +"To you, Peter--the famous trencherman of song and story? Why this +unwonted daintiness?" + +"Lassitude. Too weary to climb the stairs. Besides, I wasn't hungry." + +"Ah," said Reggie Townes, "you have the caveman's idea of dinner, I see. +It strikes you as purely an occasion for purveying provender to man's +interior. The social feature eludes you. You know what I think, Peter? +You ought to go to work." + +"_Work!_" + +"That's the word. What of it?" + +"Not a thing. The idea was new to me; that's all." + +"Persiflage and all that aside, why don't you take a stab at politics?" + +"Politics! Here in New York! I'd sooner go into Avernus of the easy +descent. If you had a town to run all by yourself now, there might be +something in it. That idea of yours as to going to work, while +unquestionably novel, strikes me as rather clever." + +"No credit belongs to me," said Townes, "if I happened to be born +brilliant instead of good-looking." + +"I'll ponder it," said Peter; and stretching out his great hand with a +gesture which banished the subject, he pushed a service button and +begged Townes to be so kind as to name his poison. + +Outside in the hall a voice just then called his name, and Maginnis +answered. + +A young man in evening dress strolled through the doorway, a tallish, +lithe young man with a pleasant clean-cut face and very light hair. It +was evident enough that he patronized a good tailor. He glanced at the +two men, nodded absently, and dropped without speech into a chair near +the door. Townes eyed him somewhat quizzically. + +"Evening, Larry. A little introspective to-night, yes?" + +Peter said: "By bull luck you have stumbled into a company of gentlemen +about to place an order. Go ahead. Mention a preference." + +The young man, unseeing eyes on Peter, did not answer. Instead, he +sprang up, as though struck by a thought of marked interest and bolted +out the door. They saw him vanish into the telephone booth across the +hall and bang the glass door shut behind him. + +"Forgot an engagement." + +"You mean remembered one," said Peter. + +"It all figures out to the same answer," said Townes; and glancing +presently at his watch, he announced that he must be trotting on. + +"But I've ordered something for you, man." + +"Varney can use it, can't he?" + +The door opened, and the tallish young man stood on the threshold again, +this time social and affable. His distraitness, oddly enough, had all +gone. He greeted the two in the smoking-room as though he had seen them +for the first time that evening; expressed his pleasure at being in +their company; inquired after their healths and late pursuits; pressed +cigarettes upon them. + +They rallied him upon his furtive movements and fickle demeanor, but +drew only badinage in kind, and no explanations; and Townes, laughing, +turned to the door. + +"Dally with us yet a little while, Reggie." + +"No, gentles, no! I'm starting abroad to-night and have already dallied +too long." + +"Abroad!" + +"My sister," said Townes, "as perhaps you don't know, wedded a +foreigner--Willy Harcourt, born and raised in Brooklyn. Therefore, I am +now leaving to go to a party in Brooklyn. Say that to yourself +slowly--'a party in Brooklyn!' Sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? If +the worst happens, I look to you fellows to break it to my mother. +Please mention that I was smiling to the last." + +He waved a farewell and disappeared into the hall. Varney dropped into +the chair Townes had left empty, and elevated his feet to the lounge +where sprawled the length of Peter Maginnis. Peter looked up and the +eyes of the two men met. + +"Well, Laurence? What is the proposition?" "Proposition? What do you +mean?" + +"An ass," replied Maginnis, pumping seltzer into a tall glass, "could +see that you have something on your mind." + +Varney pulled a match from the little metal box-holder, and looked at +him with reluctant admiration. "Sherlock Holmes Maginnis! I _have_ +something on my mind. A friend dropped it there half an hour ago, and +now I 've come to drop it on yours." He glanced at the room's two doors +and saw that both were shut. "Time is short. The outfit upstairs may +drift in any minute. Listen. Do you recall telling me the other day, +with tears in your eyes, that you were slowly dying for something new +and interesting to do?" + +Peter nodded. + +"I think of your pleasure," said Varney, "always. By looking about me +and keeping my eyes and ears open at all hours, I have found you just +the thing." + +"New and interesting?" + +"There are men in this town who would run themselves to death trying to +get in it on the ground floor." + +Maginnis shook his head. + +"I have done everything in this world," he said almost sadly, "except, I +may say, the felonies." + +"But this," said Varney, "is a felony." + +Struck by his tone, Peter glanced up. "Mean it?" + +"Sure thing." + +"As I remarked before, what is the proposition?" + +"To sum it all up in a word," said Varney, "there's a job of kidnapping +on and I happened to get the contract. That's all there is to the little +trifle." + +Peter swung his feet around to the floor, and sat up. His conviction +that Varney was trying to be funny died hard. + +Varney laughed. "I need a pal," he added. "Five minutes ago I telephoned +and got permission to offer the place to you." + +"Stop being so confounded mysterious," Peter broke out, "and go ahead!" + +Varney blew smoke thoughtfully and said, "I will. In fact, that's what I +came for. It's a devil of a delicate little matter to talk about to +anybody, as it happens. Of course, what I tell you must never go an inch +further, whether you come along or not." + +"Naturally." + +"You know my Uncle Elbert?" + +"Old Carstairs?" + +Varney nodded. "He wouldn't thank you for the adjective, though. I got +the contract from him. By the way, he's not my uncle, of course; he was +simply a great friend of my mother's. I inherited the friendship, and in +these last five years he and I have somehow managed to get mighty close +together. Eight years or so ago," he continued, "as you may, or may not +know, Uncle Elbert and his wife parted. There wasn't a thing the matter, +I believe, except that they weren't hitting it off particularly well. +They simply agreed to disagree. _Nouveau riche_, and all that, wasn't +it? Mrs. Carstairs has some money of her own. She picked up, packed up, +walked out, bought a place up the river, near Hunston, and has lived +there ever since." + +Peter looked up quickly. "Hunston? Ha! But fire away." + +"She and Uncle Elbert have stayed pretty good friends all through it. +They exchange letters now and then, and once or twice when she has been +in the city, I believe they have met--though not in recent years. My +private suspicion is that she has never entirely got over being in love +with him. Anyhow, there's their general relationship in a +nutshell--parted but friendly. It might have stayed just like that till +they were both in their graves, but for one accidental complication. +There is a child." + +"I seem to remember," said Peter. "A little boy." + +"On the contrary. A little girl. Uncle Elbert," said Varney, "is a bit +of a social butterfly. Mrs. Carstairs is an earnest domestic character. +As I gather, that was what they clashed on--the idea of what a home +ought to be. When the split came, Mrs. Carstairs took the child and +Uncle Elbert was willing enough to have her do it. That was natural +enough, Peter. He had his friends and his clubs and his little dinners, +and he was no more competent to raise a girl baby than you are, which is +certainly going some for a comparison. I suppose the fact was that he +was glad to be free of the responsibility. But it's mighty different +now. + +"You see," said Varney, lighting one cigarette from another and +throwing the old one away, "he must be pretty lonely all by himself in +that big house of his. On top of that he's getting old and isn't in very +good health. Explain it any way you like. The simple fact is that within +this last year or so, it's gradually gotten to be a kind of obsession +with him, an out-and-out, down-and-out monomania, to know that kid--to +have her come and spend part of every year with him. That's natural, +too, I should say." + +"H'm. Mrs. Carstairs sticks to her like fly-paper, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. She admits Uncle Elbert's rights and is entirely willing to +let him have Mary--for such is our little heroine's name--for part of +the time. It is the child who is doing the fly-paper business. The +painful fact is that she declines to have anything whatever to do with +her father. Invitations, commands, entreaties--she spurns them all. Yes, +I asked him if they had tried spanking, but he didn't answer--seemed +rather miffed, in fact. The child simply will not come, and that is +point number one. Now, of course, Uncle Elbert realizes that he has not +been what the world would call a good father. And he has figured it out +that Mary, evidently a young precocity, has judged him, found him +guilty, and sentenced him to banishment from her affections. That hurts, +you know. Well, he is certain that if he could once see her and be +thrown with her for a few days, she would find that he is not such an +old ogre, after all, would take him back as a father, as we might say, +and that after that everything would be plain sailing. That's his +theory. The point is how to see her and be thrown with her for the +necessary few days." + +"Why does n't he get on the train and go to Hunston? Or, if Mrs. +Carstairs is really so decent about the thing, why doesn't she get on +the train and bring Mary down here?" + +"Good. I put both of those up to him, and they seemed to embarrass him a +little. I gathered that he had suggested them both to Mrs. Carstairs, +and that she had turned them down hard. The ground seemed delicate. You +see, we must allow for the personal equation in all this. No matter +where they met, he couldn't hang around the house getting acquainted +with Mary without coming into sort of intimate contact with Mrs. +Carstairs, and giving a kind of domestic touch to their relations. You +see how that is. She wants to be fair and generous about it, but if she +is in love with him, that would be a little more than flesh and blood +could bear, I suppose. Then, as I say, there is the pig-headedness of +the child. Anyway, Uncle Elbert assures me that both those plans are +simply out of the question. So there is the situation. Mary won't come +to see him by herself. Mrs. Carstairs won't bring Mary to see him, and +she won't let him come to see Mary. Well, what remains?" + +Peter said nothing. In a room overhead a manifestly improvised quartet +struck up "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot?" with great enthusiasm. + +"You see there is only one thing. The old gentleman," said Varney, "has +brooded over the matter till it's broken him all up. He was in bed when +I was there just now. He asked me to go to Hunston and bring his +daughter to him. I told him that kidnapping was a little out of my line. +'Kidnapping is rather a harsh word,' he said. 'Yes,' said I, 'it's a +criminal word, I believe.' But--" + +Peter looked up, interrupting. "Is this all straight? Is that really +what he wants you to do?" + +"Naturally, Peter. Why not? You cling to the theory that such heroic +measures are entirely unnecessary? So did I till I had threshed the +whole thing up and down with Uncle Elbert for an hour and a half, trying +to suggest some alternative that didn't look so silly. Kindly get the +facts well into your head, will you? The man must pursue Mary's +affection either there or here, mustn't he? He can't do it there because +his wife won't let him. In order to do it here, one would say offhand +that Mary would have to be here, and since her mother declines to bring +her, it does look to me as if the job would have to be done by somebody +else. However, if my logic is wrong, kindly let your powerful--" + +"I don't say it's wrong. I merely say that it sounds like a cross +between a modern pork-king's divorce suit and a seventeenth century +peccadillo." + +"And I reply that I don't care a hoot how it sounds. The only question +of any interest to me, Peter, is whether or not Uncle Elbert has a moral +right to a share in his own child. I say that he has such a right, and I +say further that this is the only way in the world that he can assert +his right. Oh, hang how it sounds! I'm the nearest thing to a son that +he has in this world, and I mean for him to have his rights. So--" + +"Very fine," said Peter dryly. "But what's the matter with Carstairs +getting his rights for himself? Why doesn't he sneak up there and pull +the thing off on his own?" + +Varney laughed. "Evidently you don't know Uncle Elbert, after all. He's +as temperamentally unfit to carry through a job of this sort as a +hysterical old lady. Besides, even though they haven't met for so long, +I suppose his own daughter would recognize him, wouldn't she? I never +gave that idea a thought. Like his wife, he says he wants to have +nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, I made him put that in the form +of a promise--he's to give me an absolutely free hand, subject to the +conditions, and not interfere in any way. In return I ended by swearing +a great iron-clad oath not only to go, but to bring the child back with +me. The swear was Uncle Elbert's idea, and I didn't mind. Confound +it!--this is getting rather intimate, but here is Mrs. Carstairs's +letter giving a partial consent to the thing. It just got in this +afternoon; he sent for me the minute he'd read it, I believe, and I +never saw a man more excited." + +He pulled a scrawled and crossed note-sheet from his pocket, and read in +a guarded and slightly embarrassed voice: + +HUNSTON, 25th of September. + +MY DEAR ELBERT,--I hardly know how to answer you, though I have been +over and over the whole subject on my knees. As you know, if I could +send Mary to you, I would, sadly as I should miss her, for the wish +lies close to my heart to have her know her father. But she will not +hear of leaving me and there is an end of that. What you suggest is so +new and so _dreadful_ in many ways that it is very hard to consent to +it. Of course, I realize that it is not right for me to have her always. +But the utmost I can bring myself to say is that if you can succeed in +what you propose I will do nothing to interfere with you, and will see +that there is no scandal here afterwards. Of course, I am to have no +part in it, and no force is to be used, and everything is to be made as +agreeable for her as is possible under the circumstances. Oh, I am +miserable and doubtful about the whole thing, but pray and trust that it +is for the best, and that she will find some way to forgive me for it +afterwards. + +A.E.C. + +"H'm. No force is to be used," said Peter. "May I ask just how you +expect to get Mary on the choo-choo?" + +"Now we are getting to the meat of the matter," said Varney. "We shall +not have to get Mary on the choo-choo at all. We are going to use a +yacht, which will be far more private and pleasant, and also far easier +to get people on. Uncle Elbert's _Cypriani_ lies in the harbor at this +moment, ready to start anywhere at half a day's notice. It will start +for Hunston to-morrow afternoon, with me on board. I'll need another man +to put the thing through right, and I'd rather trust a friend than a +servant. So would Uncle Elbert. When I came in here just now, I was at +once taken with your looks for the part, and I have been authorized by +'phone to give you first refusal on this great chance." + +Peter said nothing. Varney feared that he looked rather bored. + +"At first," he went on promptly, "I'll confess that I didn't see so much +in the thing. But the more I've thought of it the more its unique charm +has appealed to me. It is nothing more nor less than a novel, piquant +little adventure. Exactly the sort of thing to attract a man who likes +to take a sporting chance. Look at the difficulties of it. Go to a +strange town where there are thousands and millions of strange children, +locate Mary, isolate her, make friends with her, coax her to the +yacht--captivate her, capture her! How are we to do all that, you ask? I +reply, the Lord knows. That is where the sport comes in. We are +forbidden to use force. We are forbidden to use Mrs. Carstairs or bring +her into it in any way. We are forbidden, of course, to let the child +know who we are. Everything must be done by almost diabolical craft, +while dodging suspicion at every step. Can you beat it for a fascinating +little expedition?" + +Peter relit his pipe and meditatively dropped the match on the floor. +"How old is Mary?" + +"Old?" said Varney, surprised at the question, "Oh, I don't know. The +separation took place--h'm--say eight years ago, and my guess is that +she was about four at the time. From this and the way Uncle Elbert spoke +of her, I daresay twelve would hit it fair and square. A grand age for +kidnapping, what?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter, "it makes it mere baby-work. Turn it over +as you will, it all boils down to spanking a naughty child." + +"Never! Think of slipping a cog in our plans--making a false start, +having somebody get on to us! Why, man, there may be jail for us both in +this!" + +He examined Peter's face hopefully, but found unaffected apathy there. + +"Suppose," he cried boastfully, "that the Associated Press got on to it! +Think of the disgrace of it! 'Millionaire Maginnis Caught Kidnapping!' +Think of being fired from the Curzon and having to leave New York a +hunted and broken man! Think," he added in an inspired climax, "of +having your photograph in the Sunday _Herald_!" + +Maginnis perked up visibly at this. "There is no chance of that really, +do you think?" + +"None in the world," said Varney desperately. + +He felt sure that this had cost him Peter, whom he had come to as his +oldest and best friend. Having no idea whom he could turn to next, he +rose, tentatively, and for the moral effect, to go. + +"After all," he said aloud, "I have another man in my mind who would, on +second thoughts, suit me better." + +"Oh, sit down!" cried Peter, impatiently. + +Larry sat down. His face showed, in spite of him, how really anxious he +was to have Peter go. There was a brief pause. + +"Since you are so crazy to have me," said Peter, "I'll go." + +"Thank you," said Varney. He picked up his glass, which he had hitherto +not touched, drained it at a gulp and pushed the bell vigorously. "I +knew," he cried, "that you'd see the possibilities when once your brain +began to work." + +Peter's faint smile was an insult in its way. "Three things have decided +me to go with you, old son, and none of them has anything to do with +your possibilities. The first is that I'm the one man in a million you +really need in case of trouble." + +"Peter, your modesty is your curse." + +"The second is--did you read the _Sun_ this morning? It seems that this +little town of Hunston is having a violent spasm of politics right now. +Rather lucky coincidence, I should say. The dispatch I read was pretty +vague, but I gather that there's an interesting fight on between a +strong machine and a small but firm reform movement." + +"Ha! Occupation for you while I beat the woods for little Mary." + +"I'll need it." + +"Well, what was your other wonderful reason?" + +"Don't you know? It is that sixty horse-power oath your uncle made you +swear." + +"Because it committed me, you mean?" + +The door opened, men entered noisily, and Peter had to draw Varney aside +to explain darkly: "Because it committed me to wondering what +difficulties foxy old Carstairs made a point of concealing from you." + +"Meet me upstairs in ten minutes," said Varney, "and we'll talk about +plans." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +THEY EMBARK UPON A CRIME + +Varney was wrong in one thing: Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ was not ready +to start anywhere at half a day's notice. For that reason it did not +start for Hunston on the following afternoon. As always happens, the +preparations for the little expedition took four times as long as +anybody would have thought possible. + +For these delays no blame could be attached to Peter Maginnis. He had no +getting ready to do beyond bidding his father's man to pack him for a +week, and obtaining from his hatter's, at an out-of-season cut-price, an +immense and peculiar Panama with an offensive plaid band. Possibly it +was the only hat of its kind in the world. One might picture the +manufacturer as having it made up as an experiment, becoming morose when +he looked at it, and ordering his superintendent to make no more like it +at the peril of his life. + +Peter, however, was delighted with it. Gazing at himself with smirking +satisfaction in the hat-shop mirror, he ordered the old one sent home +and was all ready to go to Hunston and kidnap Mary Carstairs. + +But other preparations could not be completed with such speedy +satisfaction. The yacht had to coal, take on supplies, and pick up two +or three extra men for the crew. A Sunday came in and threw everything +back a day. Lastly the sailing-master's wife, whom Mr. Carstairs was +sending along to take charge of Mary on the homeward trip, chanced to be +down with an influenza. + +As the details of getting ready multiplied about him, Varney's interest +in his novel undertaking imperceptibly grew. The thing had come upon him +so unexpectedly that it had not yet by any means lost its strangeness. +To the old friend of his mother's girlhood, Elbert Carstairs, he was +sincerely devoted, though knowing him for an indulgent man whose +indulgences were chiefly of himself. But when, responding to his excited +summons that night, he had sat and listened while Mr. Carstairs unfolded +his mad little domestic plot, he had been first utterly amazed and then +utterly repelled. And it was not until a final sense of the old man's +genuine need was borne in upon him, of his loneliness, his helplessness, +and his entire dependence upon him, Varney, that he had consented to +undertake the extraordinary commission. + +In a sense, it was all simply preposterous. Here was he, Laurence +Varney, in sane mind, of law-abiding habits and hitherto of tolerable +standing in the community, solemnly pledged to go and steal the person +of a child, in defiance and contempt of the statutes of all known +nations. And the place where this lawless deed was to be done was not +Ruritania or the hazy dominions of Prince Otto, but a commonplace, +humdrum American town, not an hour and a half from his office chair by +the expresses. + +In going about this task he was to conduct himself with the frankness +and straightforwardness of a sneak-thief. Not a soul in New York was to +know where he had gone. Not a soul in Hunston must dimly suspect what he +had come for. It must be gum-shoe work from start to finish, and the +_Cypriani's_ motto would be the inspiring word, "Sh-h-h." Though he had +to find a nondescript child whom he did not know from Eve, he was +forbidden to do it in a natural, easy, and dashing way. He could not +ring her mother's door-bell, ask for her, throw a meal-sack over her +head, and whip his waiting horses to a gallop. No, he must beat the tall +grasses before the old homestead until such time as she chose to walk +abroad alone. Really, when you came to think of it, it was an asinine +sort of proposition. + +But when Mary did come out of that house, he saw that the fun would +begin. A well brought-up, moneyed, petted and curled girl of twelve was +no easy pawn in anybody's game. He could not win her love by a mere +offer of gum-drops. In fact, getting acquainted was likely to be a +difficult matter, taxing his ingenuity to a standstill. But he +entertained no doubts of his ability to do it, sooner or later. + +"Not to put too fine a point on it," mused he, glancing out of his +twentieth story window, "they flock to me, children do. I'm their good +old Uncle Dudley. But why the deuce isn't she five years younger?" + +Clearly, it was the next step that was the most delicate: getting Mary +aboard the yacht. This was both the crux and the _finale_ of the whole +thing: for Uncle Elbert was to be waiting for them, in a closed +carriage, at a private dock near 130th Street (Peter remaining in +Hunston to notify him by telephone of the start down), and Varney's +responsibilities were over when the _Cypriani_ turned her nose homeward. +But here lay the thin ice. If anything should happen to go wrong at the +moment when they were coaxing Mary on the yacht, if there was a leak in +their plans or anybody suspected anything, he saw that the situation +might be exceedingly awkward. The penalties for being fairly caught with +the goods promised to be severe. As to kidnapping, he certainly +remembered reading in the newspapers that some States punished it with +death. At any rate, maybe the natives would try to thrash him and Peter. +In hopeful moments he conjured up visions of the deuce to pay. + +But, after all, he was going to Hunston, whether he liked it or not, +simply because Uncle Elbert had asked him. The lonely old gentleman, he +knew, loved him like a son: he had turned straight to him in his hour of +need. This had touched the young man, and had finally made up his mind +for him. Moreover Mary, a spoiled little piece who was suffered to set +her smug childish will against the combined wills of both her parents, +aroused his keenest antipathy. To put her in her place, to teach her +that children must obey their parents in the Lord, was a duty to +society, to the State. What Uncle Elbert wanted with such a child, he +could not conceive; but since he did want her, have her he should. +Tilting back his office chair and running his hand through his hair, +Varney longed to spank her. + +This thought came to him, definitely and for about the seventh time, at +half-past one o'clock on the third day, Monday. At the same moment, his +telephone-bell rang sharply. It was the sailing-master to say that his +good spouse had come aboard and that everything on the _Cypriani_ was in +readiness for the start. + +"I'll be on board inside of an hour," said Varney. + +He telephoned to Uncle Elbert, telephoned to Peter, and locked up his +desk. To his office he casually gave out that pressing business matters +were calling him out of town for a day or two. + +The two young men had been as furtive as possible about their proposed +journey. They had not met since the night Varney had dangled the hope of +jail and disgrace into Peter's lightening face, and so, or otherwise, +cajoled him into going along. Both of them had kept carefully away from +the _Cypriani_. Now they proceeded to her by different routes, and +reached her at different times, Peter first. Their luggage had gone +aboard before them, and there was no longer a thing to wait for. At +three o'clock, on Varney's signal, the ship's bell sounded, her whistle +shrieked, and she slid off through the waters of the bay. + +About the start there was nothing in the least dramatic: they had merely +begun moving through the water and that was all. The _Cypriani_, for all +her odd errand, was merely one of a thousand boats which indifferently +crossed each other's wakes in one of the most crowded harbors in the +world. + +"For all the lime-light we draw," observed Maginnis, drinking in the +freshening breeze, "we might be running up to Harlem to address the +fortnightly meeting of a Girls' Friendly Society." + +Varney said: "Give us a chance, will you?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THEY ARRIVE IN HUNSTON AND FALL IN WITH A STRANGER + +The landscape near Hunston, as it happened, was superfluously pretty. It +deserved a group of resident artists to admire and to catch it upon +canvas; and it had, roughly speaking, only artisans out of a job. The +one blot was the town, sprawling hideously over the hillside. Set down +against the perennial wood, by the side of the everlasting river, it +looked very cheap and common. But all this was by day. Now night fell +upon the poor little city and mercifully hid it from view. + +They had made the start too late for hurry to be any object. It was only +a three hours' run for the _Cypriani_, but she took it slowly, using +four. At half-past six o'clock, when their destination was drawing near, +the two men went below and dined. At seven, while they were still at +table, they heard the slow-down signal, and, a moment later, the rattle +of the anchor line. Now, at quarter-past seven, Varney lounged alone by +the starboard rail and acquainted himself with the purview. + +They had run perhaps quarter of a mile above the town, for reasons which +he had not communicated to the sailing-master in transmitting his +orders. One was that they might be removed somewhat from native +curiosity. The other was, they might be near the Carstairs residence, +which was up this way somewhere. So, between the yacht and the town lay +hill and wood intervening. The _Cypriani_, so to say, had anchored in +the country. Only a light glimmering here and there through the trees +indicated the nearness of man's abode. + +A soporific quality lurked in the quiet solitude, and Varney, sunk in a +deck-chair, yawned. They had decided at dinner that they would do +nothing that night but go to bed, for it seemed plain that there was +nothing else to do: little girls did not ramble abroad alone after dark. +Up the companion-way and over the glistening after-deck strolled Peter, +an eye-catching figure in the flooding moonlight. For, retiring to his +stateroom from the table, he had divested himself of much raiment and +encased his figure in a great purple bathrobe. He was a man who loved to +be comfortable, was Peter. Topping the robe, he wore his new Panama. +Varney looked around at the sound of footsteps, and was considerably +struck by his friend's appearance. + +"Feeling well, old man?" he asked with solicitude. + +"Certainly." + +"Not seasick at all? You won't let me fetch you the hot-water bottle?" + +"No, ass." + +Peter sank down in an upholstered wicker chair with pillows in it, and +looked out appreciatively at the night. The yacht's lights were set, but +her deck bulbs hung dark; for the soft and shimmering radiance of the +sky made man's illumination an offense. + +However, aesthetics, like everything else, has its place in human +economy and no more. No one aboard the _Cypriani_ became so absorbed in +the marvels of nature as to become insensible to other pleasures. The +air, new and fine from the hands of its Maker, acquired a distinct +flavor of nicotine as it flitted past the yacht. From some hidden depth +rose the subdued and convalescent snores of that early retirer, the +sailing-master's wife. Below forward, two deck-hands were thoughtfully +playing set-back for pennies, while a machinist sat by and read a +sporting extra by a swinging bulb. Above forward, on a coil of rope, +McTosh, the head steward and one of Mr. Carstairs's oldest servants, +smoked a bad pipe, and expectorated stoically into the Hudson. + +The thought of the essential commonplaceness of this sort of thing +recurred to Peter Maginnis. For all his life of idleness, which was, as +it were, accidental, Peter was essentially a man of action; and life's +sedentary movements irked him sorely. + +"Who is the individual monkeying around at the bow?" he asked presently. + +"It is Mr. Bissett, the ship's engineer, who is putting a coat of white +lead over the yacht's name." + +"Aha! Aren't we old-sleuthy, though! And what's that piece of stage-play +for?" + +"All these little hookers," said Varney, "are listed in a book, which +many persons own. Why have the local press tell everybody to-morrow that +the yacht _Cypriani_ belonging to Mr. Carstairs, husband once-removed to +our own Mrs. Elbert Carstairs, is anchored off these shores?" + +"It seems," said Peter, "like a lot of smoke for such a little fire." + +He got up and sprawled on the rail, his yellow Panama pulled far over +his eyes, his gaze fixed on the shining water. + +"First and last, I've seen rivers in my time," he said presently, "big +and little, pretty and not, clean and soiled, decent and indecent. Yes, +boy," said he, "you can take it from me that I've seen the world's +darnedest in the matter of rivers, and I have liked them all from Ganges +to the Sacramento and back again. There was a time when I didn't have +that sort of personal feeling for 'em, but a little chap up in Canada, +he helped me to the light. He was the keenest on rivers I ever knew." + +He broke off to yawn greatly, started to resume, thought better of it, +checked himself, and presently said in an absent voice: + +"No, that's too long to tell." + +"There's two hours till bedtime." + +Peter straightened and began strolling aimlessly about the deck, half +regretting that they had decided to spend the evening on the yacht. +Varney looked after him with a certain sense of guilt. Against this +background of quiet night and moonlit peace, his enterprise began to +look very small and easy. A ramble through the pleasant woods over +there, a little girl met and played with, a leisurely stroll +hand-in-hand down a woodland path to the yacht--was it for this that he +had begged the assistance of Peter Maginnis, of the large administrative +abilities and the teeming energies? Varney began to be a little ashamed +of himself. To follow out Peter's own figure, it appeared that he had +called out the fire department to help him put out a smoking sheet of +note-paper on a hearth. + +Soon, in one of his goings and comings, Peter halted. "There was another +Hunston dispatch in the paper this morning," he vouchsafed. + +"Politics?" + +"Said the reform movement was a joke." + +"Good one?" + +"Good movement, you mean?" + +"No--good joke." + +"No reform movement is ever a good joke, under any circumstances +whatsoever. Where it appears a joke at all, it is the kind that would +appeal only to pinheads of the dottiest nature." + +"I see." + +"I'm going up there to-morrow," said Peter, nodding toward the town, +"and look into it a little. If there is time, I may even decide to show +these fellows how a reform proposition ought to be handled to ensure +results." + +Far off on the hill a single light twinkled through the trees, very +yellow against the pale moonlight. Varney's eye fell upon it and +absently held it. It was Mary Carstairs's light, though, of course, he +had no means of knowing that. + +Presently Peter lolled around and looked at him. "H'm! Sunk in a sodden +slumber, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. Interested by your conversation--fascinated. Ha! Here is +something to vary the evening's monotony. A row-boat is drifting +down-stream towards us. Let us make little wagers with each other as to +who'll be in it." + +He looked over his shoulder upward at the moon, which a flying scud of +cloud had momentarily veiled. Peter, who had sat down again, glanced up +the river. + +"I don't see any boat." + +"There is where the wager comes in, my son. Hurry up--the moon will pop +out in another minute, and spoil the sport." + +"Drifting, you say. Bet you she's empty--broke away from her moorings +and riding down with the current. Bet you half a dollar. My second bet," +he said, warming to the work, "is an old washerwoman and her little boy, +out on their rounds collecting clothes. It's Monday. In case both firsts +are wrong, second choices get the money." + +"My bet is--Ha! Stand ready with your half! There she comes--Jove!" + +"Good God!" cried Peter and sprang up. + +For the moon had jumped out from behind its cloud like a cuckoo in a +clock, and fallen full upon the drifting boat, now hardly fifty yards +away. In the bottom of it lay a man, sprawled over his useless oars, +his upturned face very white in the moonlight, limp legs huddled under +him anyhow. Something in the abandon of his position suggested that he +would not get up any more. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +WHICH CONCERNS POLITICS AND OTHER LOCAL MATTERS + +It was an odd sight against the setting of pretty night and light, idle +talk. Peter's lip tightened. + +"He's dead, poor chap!" he said, in a low voice. "Murdered." + +"So it seems. We can't be sure from here, though. Where's that watch? +Here--some of you! Lower away the dinghy! Get a move!" + +The boats were on their hooks, swung outboard ready for instant use. The +crew, tumbling out swiftly at the call, cleared away one and let it fall +over the side. The young men went down with it, Peter seizing the oars +as his by right. The floating boat with its strange cargo had drifted +close and was now lost in the vast black shadow of the yacht. + +"Where is it?" + +"I can't--Yes! There it is. Straight back. Now a little to the right. +Way enough!" + +Varney, in the stern, leaned out and gripped the drifting gunwale +securely. But it was so dark here that he could see almost nothing. + +"He's breathing, I think," he said, his hand against the strange man's +chest. "Pull out into the light." + +But just then the arm that lay under the still head unmistakably +twitched. + +"Good!" cried Peter and laughed a little. "Strike a match and let's have +a look at him." + +Varney fumbled in his pockets, found one and scratched it on the side. +Shielding the flame in his curved hand, he leaned forward and held it +close to that motionless face. + +It was a young face, pale and rather haggard, lined about the mouth and +yellow about the eyes; the face of a clever but broken gentleman. Full +of contrasts and a story as it was, it would have been a striking face +at any time; and to the two peering men in the _Cypriani's_ boat, it was +now very striking indeed. For they saw immediately that the curious eyes +were half open and were fixed full upon them. + +The match burned Varney's fingers, went out and dropped into the water. +He said nothing. Neither did Peter. The man in the boat did not stir. So +went by a second of profound stillness. Then a somewhat blurred voice +said: + +"When a gentleman goes rowing--in a private boat--and is raided by a +pair of unknown investigators--one of them wearing a Mother Hubbard-- +who strike matches in his face and make personal remarks--he naturally +awaits their explanations." + +The speech fell upon four of the most astonished ears in the State of +New York. + +Peter recovered first: the remark about the Mother Hubbard had stung him +a little, even in that dumfounded moment, but he only laughed. + +"The fact is, we made absolutely sure that you were a corpse. Our +mistake." + +"But God save us!" murmured the young man. "Can't a man die these days +without a yacht-full of anxious persons steaming up and clamping a light +against his eyeball?" + +"But can't we do something for you?" asked Varney. "That's what we are +here for." + +The young man lay still and thought a moment, which he appeared to do +with some difficulty. + +"To be frank," his voice came out of the dark, rather clearer now, "you +can. Give me a match, will you?" + +Varney laughed; he produced and handed over a little box of them. Lying +flat on his back in the boat, the young man fished a cigarette out of +his pocket, hurriedly, and stuck it between his lips. The next minute +the spurt of a match cut the air. The two in the ship's boat caught a +brief, flashing glimpse of him--thin white hands raised to thin white +face. + +"Something of a _poseur_, aren't you?" suggested Peter pleasantly. +"What's your role to-night?" + +There followed a fractional pause. + +"That of a vagrant student of manners and customs," answered the +colorless voice. "Therefore, to imitate your frankness, you interest me +greatly." + +"Those who study manners," said Peter, "should learn them after a while. +Why didn't you sing out, when you saw us hustling to get out a boat, and +tell us not to bother, as you were only playing dead for the lark of the +thing?" + +"Singing, whether out or in, is an art at which I can claim small +proficiency. But tell me the time, will you? I seem to have hocked my +watch." + +Peter laughed a little ruefully. "It's seven thirty-six--no more and no +less." + +The young man sat up with an effort, and uncertainly gathered up his +oars. + +"You'll excuse me, then?" he said. "I have an engagement at seven +thirty, and as you see, there is little time to make it." + +"We gave you a light," said Peter. "Why not reciprocate? Who the devil +are you?" + +"I am a part of all that I have met," said the stranger, pulling off. "I +am wily wandering Ulysses. I am--" + +"That will do," said Peter sharply. + +He bowed gravely and rowed away. Peter looked after him for some time, +in rather impressive silence. + +"What d' you suppose was the matter with the beggar, anyway? He wasn't +drunk." + +"Didn't you notice his wrists when he held them up to light his +cigarette? Full of little scars." + +Peter whistled. "So morphine is his trouble, is it? Listen!" + +From down the river rose a faint roar, like the sound of many voices a +long way off. While the two men listened, it subsided and then rose +again. + +"Hello!" said Varney. "Look at your student of manners and customs now." + +The man in the boat was still plainly discernible, his face picked out +by the moon in greenish white. But there was no longer any lethargy in +his manner. He was bending his back to his best stroke--an excellent one +it was--and driving his light bark rapidly down the stream. + +"My bet," said Varney, "is that he hears those shouts, and they mean +something to him--something interesting and important." + +"Larry, be a sport! Let's follow this thing along and find out what it +all means." + +"Oh, I'm willing to drop into town for a little reconnoissance, if you +like. Maybe we can pick up something that will help us in our business." + +"Spoken like a scholar and a gentleman. One minute while I get on my +clothes. Oh--by the way! Er--this new--robe of mine doesn't look like a +Mother Hubbard, does it?" + +"In my opinion," said Varney, "two things could not well be more utterly +unlike." + +Peter was back in five minutes, clothed and in his right mind. His +falling foot hit the center-line of the gig with a thump, and they shot +away toward the town wharf. + +They bade the boat wait their signal in the shadows a little upstream, +and jumped out upon the old and rotting landing. A street ran straight +before them, up a steep hill and into the heart of the town, and they +took it, guided by a burst of still distant laughter and hoarse shouts. +Toiling up the evil sidewalk, they looked about curiously at the town +which was to engage their attention for the next day or so. Over +everything hung that vague air of dejection and moral decay which is so +hard to define and so easy to detect. The street was lit with feeble +electric lights which did little more than nullify the moon. Grass grew +at its pleasure through the broken brick pavement; and even in that +dimness, it was very evident that the White Wing department had been +taking a long vacation. + +Varney's eye took in everything. It occurred to him that this was a most +extraordinary place for the family of the exquisite and well-fixed +Elbert Carstairs to live. Hard on the heels of that came another thought +and he stopped. + +"What's the matter?" said Peter. + +"We simply mustn't get mixed up in any doings here, you know. Can't +afford it. Whatever is going on, our role must be that of quiet +onlookers only. Remember that." + +"Quiet onlookers it is. Hello! Did you see that?" + +"What?" + +"Old duck in a felt hat walking behind us, a good distance off--I'd +heard him for some time. He stopped when we stopped, and when I turned +then I was just in time to see him go skipping up the side street." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Not a thing. I'm interested in the sights of the town, that's all. +Listen to those hoodlums, will you?" + +In the middle of that block rose a great public building of florid and +hideous architecture, absurdly expensive for so small a town, and +running fast to seed. On the corner ahead, at the crest of the slope, +stood the handsomest and most prosperous-looking building they had yet +seen. Its long side was cut by many windows, all brilliantly lit up, and +above the lower tier ran the gold-lettered legend: + +WINES & LIQUORS. THE OTTOMAN. D. RYAN. + +"When the saloon-keeper is the richest man in town," observed Peter, +"look out for trouble." + +A roar of laughter, mingled with various derisive cries, broke out just +then, now from very near. The next minute the two men reached the brow +of the hill, and both stopped involuntarily, arrested by the tableau +which met their gaze beyond. + +They stood on the upper side of a little rectangular "square," at the +lower edge of which, some fifty yards away, were gathered possibly +thirty or forty jostling and noisy men. Facing them, standing on a +carriage-block at the curb, stood a cool little man obviously engaged in +making a speech. The commonness of the men and the rough joviality of +their mood were the more accentuated by the supreme dignity of the +orator. He was a very small man, with pink cheeks and eye-glasses, +beautifully made and still more beautifully dressed; and for all their +boisterous "jollying" his auditors appeared rather to like him than the +contrary. + +The men from the _Cypriani_ crossed the square and came up with the +merry-making Hunstonians. Varney's gaze went round the circle of faces +and saw inefficiency, shiftlessness, and failure everywhere stamped +upon them. Suddenly his wandering eye was arrested by a face of quite a +different sort. Directly opposite stood the eccentric young man of the +row-boat, watching the show out of listless eyes whose expression never +changed. + +"On that horse-block," said Peter, raising his voice to carry above an +outburst of catcalls and allegedly humorous comment, "stands the Hunston +Reform Movement. Giving 'em a ripping talk, too--all out of Bryce, Mill, +and the other fellows." + +But at that moment, as luck had it, the oratory came to a sudden end. A +sportive bull-pup, malevolently released by some one in the crowd, +danced up to the horse-block, barking joyfully, and made a lightning +dive for the spellbinder's legs. The spellbinder dexterously +side-stepped; the dog's aim was diverted from that fleshy portion of the +thigh which his fancy had selected; but his snapping teeth closed firmly +in the tail of the pretty light-gray coat, which the little man wore +rather long according to the mode of the day. And there he swung, +kicking and snarling, squirming and grunting, in the liveliest fashion +imaginable. + +Merry pandemonium broke out among the onlookers; they howled with +shameless delight. It was hardly a pleasant scene to witness, though +redeemed by the little orator's gameness. His face, when he took in what +had happened to him, slowly turned the color of a sheet of white paper. +With indescribable dignity, he descended from his rostrum, carrying the +dog along, and walked out into the ring. In front of a tall, +loose-jointed, scraggly-mustached fellow he paused, and stared him in +the eye with steady fixity. + +"T-t-take your d-d-damned d-dog off me, Hackley," he said, stuttering +badly, but very cool. + +But Hackley backed away, shaking his head and bellowing with laughter. +In an ecstasy of delight, the onlookers began pressing more closely +about the men, narrowing the circle. And then it was that Peter, quite +forgetting his role of quiet onlooker and unable for his life to +restrain himself longer, put his shoulder to the ring and broke a +vigorous way through. He touched the little orator on the arm. + +"No need to trouble the gentleman," Varney heard him say pleasantly. +"Just hold the position a moment, please." And so saying he swung back +his foot. + +It landed with an impact that was loud and not agreeable to the ear. The +dog dropped with a frightful howl and, yelping madly, fled. +Simultaneously, cries arose about the ringside, and the dog's owner, an +alcoholic blaze in his eye, spat bitterly into his two palms and headed +straight for Peter. + +"What in the blank-blank d' yer mean by kickin' my blank dog, you +blank-blankety-blank, you?" he inquired. + +"I meant that he was behaving as no dog should," explained Peter, "and +the same remark applies to you." + +He was not without skill at fisticuff, was Hackley. With the speed of a +tiger, he let out first his left fist, then his right, at Peter +Maginnis's head. But instead of arriving there, they collided with a +forearm which had about the resiliency of a two-foot stone-wall. +Simultaneously, Peter released his famous left-hook--had of the Bronx +Barman at ten dollars a lesson--and the fight was over. + +Mr. Hackley's head struck first, and struck passionately; men picked him +up and bore him limply from the field. And Peter, a tiny spot of red in +the corner of his right eye, spoke thus to the horseshoe of watching +faces: + +"You're a devil of a fine gang of red-hot sports, aren't you, boys? A +whole regiment of you with no more decency than to pick on one man like +this. I come from a white man's country where this kind of thing doesn't +go--thank God! And any man who has formed a bad opinion of my manners +and my general style of conversation can just step out into the ring and +let me explain my system to him." + +But nobody accepted that invitation. Possibly the rub was that no one +cared to see that left-hook work again, at his own expense, or to +encourage any trouble to come athwart his quiet career. At any rate, +there were a few mutterings here and there; and then some one sang out: + +"None fer mine, Mister! I ain't took out my life insurance yet." + +There was a general laugh at this, and with that laugh Peter knew that +all hope of more fighting was gone. He bade them a sardonic good-night, +hooked his arm through the orator's (who actually showed signs of an +intention to resume his speech), and bore him off down the street. + +The three men walked half a block in silence, and then the little +stranger stopped short. + +"I say," he said in a faintly unsteady voice, "I want to thank you for +taking that confounded dog off me. In another minute he might have torn +my coat, don't you know?" + +"Oh, that's all right," said Peter, repressing a smile. "Kicking dogs is +rather a specialty of mine, and it isn't often I get the chance to +attend to two of them in one evening. I wouldn't give the episode +another thought." + +The little man gave a sudden fierce laugh. "Oh, certainly not! It's a +mere bagatelle for a candidate for Mayor to get a hand-out like that +from a gathering of voters!" + +"Mayor! I beg your pardon! Of course I didn't quite understand." + +Whereupon Peter begged to introduce himself as an ardent amateur +statesman, a student of good government from New Hampshire to New +Zealand and from Plato to Lincoln Steffens, who had--er--come to Hunston +hoping to see something of the fight for reform. The candidate, in turn, +produced cards. It became apparent that he bore the name of J. Pinkney +Hare. And the upshot of the colloquy was that the two young men +presently found themselves invited to call upon Candidate Hare next +morning, and learn something of the situation. + +"I'll be delighted," accepted Peter promptly,--"delighted." + +"That's settled then. Good-night--and thanks awf'ly for your +assistance." + +He pivoted on his trim heels, abruptly, and went away up the side +street. + +Peter turned to Varney with a faint grin. "That chap gets his first +lesson in the art of being a reformer to-morrow. Curious, wasn't +it?--stumbling right into the heart of the agitation an hour after we +hit the town." + +Varney, who had followed Peter's activities of the last five minutes +with considerable disapproval, did not answer his smile. + +"Give me a hasty sketch of your conception of a quiet onlooker, will +you, Peter?" + +"Tush!" said Peter. "Why, can't you see that this sort of thing will +make the finest kind of blind? St! Here's our little friend coming back +again." + +"I say," called the voice of J. Pinkney Hare out of the gloom. + +"Yes?" said Peter. + +The candidate drew nearer. + +"Our city is not plentifully supplied with amusements," he began in his +somewhat pompous manner. "It just occurred to me that, in lieu of +anything better, you gentlemen might care to go home with me now. I +should be happy to have you--and to reciprocate your courtesy in any way +within my power." + +Peter, doubtless remembering the slow time he had been having on the +yacht, brightened instantly and visibly. + +"Why, _thanks_. I'll be awfully glad to come. I--er--I'm tremendously +interested in your situation here, I assure you." + +Then, catching a warning glance from Varney, who politely declined the +invitation, he apologized to the candidate and drew his captain briefly +aside. + +"I'll pick up all the information I can--understand?" he murmured +hurriedly. "And don't you worry. A little flurry in politics will make +the best sort of a cover for you while you sneak around after Mary." + +On that the two friends parted. Peter hurried on after the little +reformer, and Varney, turning, continued his way down Main Street toward +the river and the _Cypriani_, not entirely displeased, after all, that +Peter had found some congenial diversion for the evening. + +The street was almost a desert. If the unmistakable sounds of revelry by +night meant anything, nearly the whole population was behind him in the +Ottoman bar. But in the middle of the next block, two ragged men, +standing idly and talking together, turned at the sounds of the young +man's steps. One of them, revealed by a near-by shop-light, had straggly +gray whiskers, vacant eyes, and a bad foolish mouth. Both of them stared +at Varney with marked intentness. He had to go quite out of his way to +get round them. + +"They don't see strangers every day, I take it," he thought absently; +and suddenly he cast an inquiring eye at the heavens. + +The night, so shining half an hour before, was becoming heavily +overcast. Clouds had rolled up from nowhere and blotted out the moon. +About him the night breeze was freshening with a certain significance; +and now unexpectedly there fell upon his ear the faint far rumble of +thunder. Decidedly, there would be rain, and that right soon. Varney +quickened his pace. + +At the end of that quiet block he came upon a crimson-cheeked lady, +somewhat past her first youth and over-plump for beauty, who was engaged +in putting up the shutters at her mother's grocery establishment. +Glancing around casually at his approach, her glance became transfixed +into a stare. + +"Well!" she exclaimed in surprise and not without coquettishness--"if it +ain't Mr. Ferris!" + +"If it ain't Mr. Ferris--what then?" asked Varney. "For, madam, I assure +you that it ain't." + +The woman, taken aback by this denial, only stared and had no reply +ready. But the young man, walking on, was set to thinking by this second +encounter, and presently he mused: "I'm somebody's blooming double, +that's what. I wonder whose." + +And on that word, as though to get an answer to his speculation, he +suddenly halted and turned. + +He had now progressed nearly a block from the buxom young woman of the +grocery. For some time, even before that meeting, he had been aware of +light, steady footsteps behind him on the dark street, gaining on him. +By this time they had come very near; and now as he wheeled sharply, +with a vague anticipation of Peter's "old duck in a felt hat," he found +himself face to face with quite a different figure--that of a thin young +man whom he recognized. + +"Bless us!" said Varney urbanely. "It's the student of manners again." + +The pale young stranger stopped two paces away and gave back his look +with the utmost composure. + +"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones--"though I doubt," he +added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you." + +"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?" + +"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a +paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow +morning--you and your ferocious friend." + +Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat--er--precipitate?" + +"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany, +that you were a great fool to come back at all." + +"Beany!" + +"You don't mind if I sit down?" + +A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they +stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and +leaned back against the store-front. + +"Beany?" repeated Varney. + +"It was dark down on the river," observed the other slowly, "but the +instant I saw you on the square, I recognized you, and so, my friend, +will everybody else." + +"With even better success, I trust, than you have done. For my name is +not Beany, but indeed Varney--Laurence Varney--permit me--" + +"Ah, well! Stick it out if you prefer. In any case--" + +"But do tell me the name of this individual to whom I bear such a +marked resemblance. I naturally--" + +"The individual to whom you bear such a marked, I may say such a very +marked, resemblance," said the stranger, mockingly, "is a certain Mr. +Ferris Stanhope, a prosperous manufacturer of pink-tea literature. You +never heard the name--of course. But never mind about that. I should +advise you both to leave town anyway." + +"Is it trespassing too far if I ask--" + +"Any one who associates with little Hare, as I have a premonition that +you two will do if you stay, is born to trouble as the sparks fly +upward." + +Varney came a step nearer and rested his foot on the edge of the +packing-case. + +"Now that," said he, "is by all odds the best thing you've said yet. +Elucidate it a bit, won't you? I admit to some curiosity about that +little tableau in the square--" + +"Yes? Well, I owe you one for that box of matches, Beany--er--Mr.--and +it would be rather asinine for you or your pugilistic partner to begin +monkeying with our buzz-saw. I happened, you see, to overhear part of +your talk with J. Pinkney Hare just now. How others might view it I know +not, but to me it seemed only fair to warn you that that interesting +young man must be shunned by the wise. As to the mayoralty, he has as +much chance of getting in as a jack-rabbit has of butting a way through +the Great Wall of China. For we have a great wall here of the sturdiest +variety." + +He meant, as he briefly explained, the usual System, and back of it the +usual Boss: one Ryan, owner of the Ottoman saloon and the city of +Hunston, who held the town in the hollow of his coarse hand, and was +slowly squeezing it to death. + +"The election," he went on listlessly, "is only two weeks off, but the +rascal isn't lifting a finger. He doesn't have to. To-morrow night he +holds what he calls his annual 'town-meeting'--a fake and a joke. The +trustful people gather, listen to speeches by Ryan retainers, quaff free +lemonade. Nominally, everybody is invited to speak; really only the +elect are permitted to. I saw a reform candidate try it once, and it was +interesting to see how scientifically they put a crimp in him." + +"And J. Pinkney Hare?" queried Varney becoming rather interested. + +Was everything, the young man explained, that Ryan was not--able, +honest, unselfish, public-spirited. Studying the situation quietly for a +year, he had uncovered a most unholy trail of graft leading to high +places. But when he began to try to tell the people about it, he found +his way hopelessly blocked at every turn. + +"He can't even hire a hall," summarized the stranger. "Not to save his +immortal soul. That was the meaning of the ludicrous exhibition a few +minutes ago. In one word, he can't get a hearing. He might talk with the +tongues of men and angels, but nobody will listen to him. It is a dirty +shame. But what in the world can you expect? Lift a finger against the +gang, and, presto, your job's gone, and you can't find another high or +low. Ryan's money goes everywhere--into the schools, the church, the +press. The press. That, of course, is the System's most powerful ally. +The--infamous _Hollaston Gazette_--" + +"The _Hollaston Gazette_--is that published here?" asked Varney in +surprise, for the _Gazette_ was famous: one of those very rare +small-town newspapers which, by reason of great age and signal editorial +ability, have earned a national place in American journalism. + +"Named after the county. You have heard of it?" said the young man in a +faintly mocking voice, and immediately went on: "The _Gazette_ is eighty +years old. Even now, in these bad times, everybody in the county takes +it. They get all their opinions from it, ready-made. It is their Bible. +A fool can see what a power such a paper is. For seventy-seven years the +_Gazette_ fully deserved it. That was the way it won it. But all that is +changed now. And the paper is making a great deal of money." + +"It is crooked, then?" + +"I said, did I not, that it was for Ryan?" + +He lounged further back in the shadows upon his packing-case; he +appeared not to be feeling well at all. Varney regarded him with puzzled +interest. + +"A very depressing little story," he suggested, "but after all, hardly a +novel one. I don't yet altogether grasp why--" + +"Your Jeffries of a friend is a red-hot political theorist, isn't he?" +asked the other apathetically. "Our Hunston politicians are practical +men. They are after results, and seek them with small regard, I fear, +to copy-book precepts. You follow me? Rusticating strangers, visiting +sociological students, itinerant idealists, these would do well to speak +softly and walk on the sunny side of the road." + +"You appear," said Varney, his curiosity increasingly piqued, "to speak +of these matters with authority--" + +"Rather let us say with certitude." + +"Possibly you yourself have felt the iron-toothed bite of the machine?" + +"I?" + +"Why not?" + +The young man looked shocked; slowly his pale face took on a look of +cynical amusement. "Yes, yes. Certainly. Who more so?" He appeared to +hesitate a moment, and then added with a laugh which held a curious +tinge of defiance: "In fact, I myself have the honor of being the owner +and editor of the _Gazette_--Coligny Smith, at your service--" + +"Coligny Smith!" echoed Varney amazed. + +The young man glanced up. "It was my father you have heard of. He died +three years ago. However," he added, with an odd touch of pride, "he +always said that I wrote the better articles." + +There was a moment's silence. Varney felt by turns astonished, +disgusted, sorry, embarrassed. Then he burst out laughing. + +"Well, you have a nerve to tell me this. Smith. In doing so, you seem to +have brought our conversation to a logical conclusion. I thank you for +your kindly advice and piquant confession, and so, good evening." + +Mr. Smith straightened on his packing-case and spoke with unexpected +eagerness. + +"Oh--must you go? The night's so young--why not--come up to the Ottoman +and have something? I'll--I'd be glad to explain--" + +"I fear I cannot yield to the editorial blandishments this evening." + +"Well--I merely--" + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing. But remember--you'll get into trouble if you stay." + +Varney laughed. + +He went on toward his waiting gig feeling vaguely displeased with the +results of his half-hour ashore, and deciding that for the future it +would be best to give the town a wide berth. The privacy of the yacht +better suited his mission than Main Street, Hunston. However, the end +was not yet. He had not reached the landing before a thought came to him +which stopped him in his tracks. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +INTRODUCES MARY CARSTAIRS AND ANOTHER + +Clearly he must see Peter, at once, before that impetuous enthusiast had +had time to involve himself in anything, and tell him bluntly that he +must leave the affairs of Hunston alone until their own delicate +business had been safely disposed of. + +In such a matter as this it was not safe to take chances. Varney had a +curious feeling that young Mr. Smith's melodramatic warnings had been +offered in a spirit of friendliness, rather than of hostility. +Nevertheless, the eccentric young man had unmistakably threatened them. +While Varney had been more interested by the man, personally, than by +his whimsical menaces, the editor's conversation could certainly not be +called reassuring. Smith owned a corrupt newspaper; he was a clever man +and, by his own confession, an unscrupulous one, bought body and soul by +the local freebooters; and if he thought the headlong intruder Maginnis +important enough to warrant it, there were presumably no lengths to +which he would not go to make the town uncomfortable for him, to the +probable prejudice of their mission. Clearly, here was a risk which he, +as Mr. Carstairs's emissary, had no right to incur. The _Cypriani_ was +in no position to stand the fire of vindictive yellow journalism. +Besides, there was the complicating matter of his own curious +resemblance to somebody whom, it seemed, Hunston knew, and not too +favorably. + +Considerably annoyed, Varney turned his face back toward the town. To +avoid more publicity, he turned off the main thoroughfare to a narrow +street which paralleled it, and, walking rapidly, came in five minutes +to the street where Peter and the little candidate had left him. This +street came as a surprise to him: Hunston's best "residence section" +beyond doubt. It was really pretty, spaciously wide and flanked by +handsome old trees. Houses rose at increasingly long intervals as one +got away from the town; and they were for the most part charming-looking +houses, set in large lawns and veiled from public scrutiny by much fine +foliage. + +Varney cast about for somebody who would give him his bearings, and had +not far to look. + +Puffing stolidly on the butt of an alleged cigar, into which he had +stuck a sharpened match as a visible means of support, a boy who was +probably not so old as he looked sat upon the curbstone at the corner, +and claimed the world for his cuspidor. He was an ill-favored runt of a +boy, with a sedate manner and a face somewhat resembling a hickory-nut. + +Varney, approaching, asked him where Mr. Hare lived. Without turning +around, or desisting an instant from the tending of his cigar (which, +indeed, threatened a decease at any moment), the boy replied: + +"Acrost an' down, one half a block. Little yaller house wit' green +blinds and ornings. Yer could n't miss it. Yer party left dere ten +minutes ago, dough." + +"What party?" asked Varney puzzled. + +"Tall big party wit' yaller hat, stranger here. Seen him beatin' it out +the street for the road, him and Hare. Goin' some, they was." + +"How did you know I was looking for that party?" + +"Took a chanst," said the boy. "Do I win?" + +His stoical gravity made Varney smile. "You do--a good cigar. That one +of yours has one foot in the grave, hasn't it?" + +"T'ank you, boss." + +"By the way," he added casually, struck by a thought, "Mrs. Carstairs +must live on this street somewhere, doesn't she? Which way?" + +"Same way as yer party went. Last house on de street--Remsen Street. Big +white one, up on a hill like." + +Varney hurried off on the trail of his elusive friend. He was puzzled in +the last degree to know why Peter, having just entered Hare's house, +should have left it at once and gone racing off, with Hare, down this +empty street toward the open country. The one explanation that occurred +to him was on the whole an unwelcome one. This was that he had made an +opening to introduce the subject of Mary Carstairs, and the grateful +candidate had volunteered his friendly offices--perhaps to show Peter +the house, perhaps actually to take him up and present him. + +In the light of a depressed corner-lamp he glanced at his watch. Having +supposed that it must be nearly nine o'clock, he was surprised to find +that it was only a few minutes after eight. He had the handsome street +to himself. The night had grown very dark, and the faint but continuous +rumble of thunder was a warning to all pedestrians to seek shelter +without delay. Varney's stride was swift. Whatever Peter meant to do, he +wanted to overtake him before he did it, and gently lead him to +understand, here at the outset, that he was a subordinate in this +expedition, expected to do nothing without orders from above. + +But he found himself at the end of the street, and saw the country road +dimly winding on beyond, without having found a trace of Peter, or seen +any other human being. Here, for all his hurry, he was checked for a +moment by a sudden new interest. Mindful of the boy's succinct +directions, he paused in the shadow of the wood, which here came to the +sidewalk's edge, and looked across the street for the residence of Mrs. +Carstairs. + +Through the trees of a sloping lawn, his gaze fell at once upon a wide +rambling white house, directly opposite, well back from the street and +approached by a winding white driveway. The house was well lighted; +there was a porch-lamp lit; over the carriage-gate hung a large electric +globe. Despite the darkness of the night, Varney had a first-rate view. +The house was big; it was white; unquestionably it was up on a hill +like. In fact there could be no doubt in the world that this was the +house he had come from New York to find. + +The sight drew and interested him beyond all expectation. Presently, by +a curious coincidence, something happened which increased his interest +tenfold. His eye had run over the house, about the lawn, even up at the +windows, taking in every detail. There was no sign of life anywhere. But +now as he stood and watched, the swing front-door was unexpectedly +pushed open, and, like some feat in mental telepathy, a girl stepped out +upon the piazza. + +Involuntarily Varney shrank back into the shadows, assuming by instinct +the best conspirators' style, and glued his eyes upon the impelling +sight. Not that the girl herself was peculiarly fascinating to the eye. +The porch-light revealed her perfectly: a small, dark, nondescript +child, not above thirteen years old, rather badly dressed and, to say +truth, not attractive-looking in any way. But to Varney, at the moment, +she was the most irresistibly interesting figure in the six continents. + +She came to the top of the step and stood there, peering out into the +darkness as though looking for some one. Varney, from his dark retreat +stared back at her. There they stood unexpectedly face to face, the +kidnapper and his quarry. A sudden wild impulse seized the young man to +act immediately: to make a dash from his cover, bind the girl's mouth +with his handkerchief, toss her over his shoulder, and fly with her to +the yacht. That was the way these things ought to be done, not by the +tedious and furtive methods of chicanery. But, since this man-like +method was forbidden him, why should he not at least cross boldly and go +in--a lost wayfarer inquiring for directions--anything to start up the +vitally necessary acquaintance? Would he ever have a better chance? + +The thought had hardly come to him before the child herself killed it. +She turned as suddenly as she had come and disappeared into the house. +That broke the spell; and Varney, interested by the discovery that his +heart was beating above normal, slipped unseen from his lurking-place, +and resumed his interrupted progress after Peter and Hare. + +Beyond the Carstairs's fence of hedge, the houses stopped with the +sidewalk. The highway, having no longer anything to keep up appearances +for, dwindled into an ordinary country road, meandering through an +ordinary country wood. What could have carried Peter out here it was +impossible to conceive; but clearly something had, and Varney raced on, +hoping at every moment to descry his great form looming up ahead of him +out of the blackness. + +What luck--what beautiful luck--to have found her in his very first hour +in Hunston! It was half his work done in the wink of an eye. To-morrow +morning, the first thing, he would return to this quiet street, watch at +his ease for the child to come outdoors, saunter calmly from his +hiding-place, make friends with her. By this time to-morrow night, in +all human probability, he would be back in New York, his errand safely +accomplished. That done, Peter could play politics to his heart's +content. Meantime, it was more desirable than ever to tell him of these +unexpected developments and deter him from taking any step which might +complicate the game.... + +A loud thunderclap crashed across the train of his thought. Another and +a worse one crowded close upon it. He glanced up through the trees into +the inky cavern of the skies, and a single large drop of water spattered +upon his upturned forehead. + +"Hang it!" he thought disgustedly. "Here comes the rain." + +It came as though at his word, and with unbelievable suddenness. Thunder +rolled; the breeze stiffened into a gale. Another drop fell upon his +hat, and then another, and another. The young man came to an unwilling +halt. + +But he immediately saw that further pursuit was, for the moment at +least, out of the question. The storm broke with a violence strangely at +variance with the calm of the earlier evening. The heavens opened and +the floods descended. Shelter was to be found at once, if at all, but as +he hesitated, he remembered suddenly that he had not passed a house in +five minutes. In the same moment his eye fell upon a little cottage just +ahead of him, unlighted and barely perceptible in the thick darkness, +standing off the road not a hundred feet away. He made for it through +the driving rain and wind, stepped upon the narrow porch, discovered +immediately that it gave him no protection at all, and knocked loudly +upon the shut door. He got no answer. Trying it with a wet hand he +perceived that it was unlocked; and without more ado, he opened it and +stepped inside. + +It was evidently, as he had surmised, an empty house. The hall was dark +and very quiet. He leaned against the closed front door and dipped into +his pockets for a match. Behind him the rain fell in torrents, and the +turbulent wind dashed after it and hurled it against the streaming +windows. It had turned in half an hour from a peaceful evening to a wild +night, a night when all men of good sense and good fortune should be +sitting secure and snug by their own firesides. And where, oh where, was +Peter? + +Speculating gloomily on this and still exploring his pockets for a +match, he heard a noise not far away in the dark, and knew suddenly that +he was not alone. The next moment a voice floated to him out of the +blackness near at hand, clear, but a little irresolute, faintly +frightened. + +"Didn't some one come in? Who is there?" + +It was a woman's voice and a wholly charming one. There could hardly +have been its match in Hunston. + +"What a very interesting town!" the young man thought. "People to talk +to every way you turn." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE HERO TALKS WITH A LADY IN THE DARK + +Varney called reassuringly into the gloom: "I sincerely beg your pardon +for bursting in like that. I--had no idea there was any one here." + +There was a second's pause. + +"N--no," said the pretty voice, hesitatingly. "You--you couldn't--of +course." + +"But please tell me at once," he said, puzzled by this--"have I taken +the unforgivable liberty of breaking into your house?" + +"My house?" And he caught something like bewildered relief in her voice. +"Why--I--was thinking that I had broken into yours." + +Varney laughed, his back against the door. + +"If it were, I'm sure I should be able to offer you a light at the +least. If it were yours, now that I stop to think--well, perhaps it +_would_ be a little eccentric for you to be sitting there in your parlor +in the inky dark." + +To this there came no reply. + +"I suppose you, like me," he continued courteously, "are an unlucky +wayfarer who had to choose hastily between trespassing and being +drowned." + +"Yes." + +Inevitably he found himself wondering what this lady who shared his +stolen refuge could be like. That she was a lady her voice left no +doubt. His eye strained off into the Ethiopian blackness, but could make +neither heads nor tails of it. + +"Voices always go by contraries," he thought. "She's fifty-two and wears +glasses." + +Aloud he said: "But please tell me quite frankly--am I intruding?" + +"Not at all," said the lady, only that and nothing more. + +"Perhaps then you won't object if I find a seat? Leaning against a door +is so dull, don't you think?" + +He groped forward, hands outstretched before him, stumbled against the +stairway which he sought, and sat down uncomfortably on the +next-to-the-bottom step. Then suddenly the oddness of his situation +rushed over him, and, vexed though he was with the chain of needless +circumstances which had brought him into it, he with difficulty +repressed a laugh. + +An hour ago he had been lounging at peace upon the yacht, looking +forward to nothing more titillating than bed at the earliest respectable +hour. Now he was sitting with a strange lady of uncertain age in an +unlighted cottage on a lonely country road, while a howling thunderstorm +raved outside imprisoning him for nobody could say how long. In the +interval between these two extremes, he had discovered that he was a +"double," been threatened with violence, hopelessly lost Peter, and +found Mary Carstairs. Surely and in truth, a pretty active hour's work! + +On the tin roof of the cottage the rain beat a wild tattoo. Within, the +silence lengthened. Under the circumstances, Varney considered reserve +on the lady's part not unnatural; but a little talk, as he viewed the +matter, would tend to help the dreary evening through. + +He cleared his throat for due notice and began with a laugh. + +"I was industriously chasing two men from town when the storm caught me. +You know what I mean--not drumming them out of the city, but merely +pursuing them in this general direction. I wonder if by any chance you +happened to pass them on the road?" + +"N-no, I believe not." + +"A very small man, very well-dressed, and a very large man, very badly +dressed, wearing a kind of curious, rococo straw hat. I know," he mused, +"that you could not have forgotten that hat. Once seen--" + +"Oh!" she exclaimed with sudden evidences of interest--"do tell me--is +the smaller man you mention Mr. Hare?" + +"He is indeed," he answered surprised. "You know him? Oh, +yes,--certainly! In Hunston--" + +"Know him!" said she in tones of hardly suppressed indignation. "It is +he who is responsible for my being caught in this--this annoying +predicament." + +At something in the way the lady said that, Varney unconsciously chipped +twenty years off her age and conceded that she might be no more than +thirty-two. + +"I'm sorry to hear that," he said with a laugh. "I should say that Mr. +Hare has already had quite enough troubles for one night." + +"Oh--then you have seen him this evening?" + +"I had the pleasure of meeting him on the square not half an hour ago." + +Each waited for the other to say more; and it was the lady who yielded. +She went on hesitatingly, yet somehow as if she were not unwilling to +justify herself to this stranger in the curious position in which she +found herself. + +"It--is very strange--and unlike him," she said doubtfully. "He was to +call for me--at quarter past seven--and take me home. I was at the +seamstress's, perhaps quarter of a mile up the road. I waited and +waited--and then--Oh--what was that, do you know?" + +"Only this old floor cracking. Don't flatter it by noticing. How odd to +find, meeting in this way, that we are both searching for the same man. +Isn't it?" + +"It--seems to me even odder to find that he is not searching for me." + +She was sitting, so he judged from the sound, about fifteen feet away. +There was coldness in her voice as she spoke of the candidate. Varney +felt sorry for that young man when he next held converse with her. From +her voice he had also gathered that the dark rather frightened her, and +that the presence of an unknown man had not allayed her uneasiness; +though something of her reserve had vanished, he thought, when she found +that the intruder knew Mr. Hare. + +"Oh, but he was--is!" he cried encouragingly. + +"I'm positive that he's searching for you at this minute. Why, of +course--certainly! That would explain the whole thing." + +Sitting damply on the dark stairway, he told of J. Pinkney Hare's +evidently impromptu experiences in the public square, which had +undoubtedly knocked from his mind all memory of his engagement at the +seamstress's; and of the sudden recollection of it, which, there could +be no question, was what had sent him and his new friend bursting out of +the house and tearing for dear life up the road. + +"I'll bet," said he, "that not a minute after you turned into shelter, +they raced by here after you. Now they're kicking their heels at the +sewing-lady's, probably soaked through, and wild to know if you got home +safely. Oh, he's being punished for his sins, never fear." + +"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I +forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have +heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices, +but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone." + +"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!" + +"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world +ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him." + +He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And +immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at +twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his +obvious duty of escorting her home. + +In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked +loudly and scarily. + +"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a +match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?" + +"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you +I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever +since I came in." + +"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself. +"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?" + +"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing +it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm +awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase." + +Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world +like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she +said: "You are not--in this room, are you?" + +"I'm sitting quietly on the steps digging around for matches," he said. +"Would you prefer to have me come in there?" + +"Would you mind--? Not that I'm in the least frightened, but--" + +"It will give me great pleasure to come--faithfully searching my pockets +as I grope forward. Thus," he said, laughing, "I must grope only with my +head and feet, which is a slightly dangerous thing to do. Ouch! Where +are you, please?" + +"Here." + +"'Here' is not very definite, you know. I have nothing to steer by but +my ear. Would you mind talking a good deal for a while?" + +"It is not often," she said, with further signs of a thawing in her +manner, "that a woman gets an invitation like that." + +"Opportunity knocks at your door, golden, novel, and unique." + +"The luck of it is that I can't think of anything to say. Would you care +to have me hum something?" + +Off came the lady's glasses, never to be donned again in fancy or in +life; and Varney was ready to admit that there might be ladies in +Hunston who were worse-looking than she by far. In the Stygian blackness +he collided with a chair and paused, leaning upon the back of it. + +"I'd like extremely to have you hum. From your voice, I--I'm sure that +you do it div--awfully well. But since you seem to leave it to me, I'd +honestly rather have you do something else." + +"Yes?" + +Larry laughed. "It's a game. A--an evening pastime--a sort of novel +guessing contest. Played by strangers in the dark. You see--I must tell +you that ever since you first spoke, my mind has been giving me little +thumbnail sketches--each one different from the last--of what you look +like." + +She said nothing to this; so he laughed again. + +"Oh, it's not mere curiosity, you know. It's purely a scientific matter +with me. The science of deduction. The voice, you know, tells little or +nothing. I may say that I have made something of a study of voices, and +have discovered that they always go by contraries. For this reason," he +laughed gayly, "when you first spoke, I--but perhaps I am simply tiring +you?" + +There was a small pause, and then the lady spoke, with apparent +reluctance: + +"I am not tired." + +Varney smiled into the great darkness. "Well, when I first heard your +voice--ha, ha!--I made up my mind that you could not possibly be less +than fifty-two." + +He was rewarded with a faint laugh: this time there could be no doubt of +it. + +"You remember that mythological tunnel where everybody went in old and +came out young. This conversation has been like that. Since we have +talked," said Varney, "I have knocked thirty years off your age. But +much remains to be told--and that is the game. Are you dark?" + +"Are you punning?" + +"This is no punning matter," he said; and began his third exploration of +himself for a match. And above them the water continued to thud upon the +roof like a torrent broken out of a dam. + +"This is _too_ bad!" breathed the lady impatiently, and plainly she was +not speaking to Varney. "I believe it's coming down harder and harder +every minute!" + +"Yes," he answered cheerfully, "the good old rain is at it in earnest. +We're probably fixed for hours and hours. I might argue, you know," he +added, "that I have a right to know these things. The box of matches I +just gave away like a madman would have told me, and no questions asked. +Matches and lamps you have none, but such as you have--" + +"Could you not talk of something else, please?" + +Varney laughed. "Certainly, if I must. Only I've been rather generous +about this, I think, showing you my hand and giving you the chance to +laugh at me. You see, for all I know you may be fifty-two, after all. Or +even sixty-two--Oh, glory! Hallelujah!" + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! Just I have found a match. That's all!" + +"A _match_! Splendid!" she cried, and her voice suddenly seemed to come +from a higher point in the darkness, as though she had risen. "Just one! +Oh, we--you must be extremely careful with it." + +"The trouble is," he said with exaggerated dejection, "it's pretty wet. +I don't know whether it will strike or not." + +"You must _make_ it strike. Oh, it will be--unpardonable--if you don't +make it strike!" + +"Then I'll throw my soul into the work. I'll concentrate my whole +will-power upon it. On the back of this chair here--shall I?" + +"All right. I'll concentrate too. Are--you ready?" + +"Ready it is," said Varney. + +Gently he drew the match across the rough wood of the chair-back, his +ear all eager expectancy--and nothing happened. Thrice he did this +fruitless thing, and something told him that a large section of the +sulphur had been rubbed away into eternity. + +"It's nip and tuck," he breathed, stifling an impulse to laugh. "Nip and +tuck!" + +Pressing the match's diminished head firmly against the wood, he drew it +downward vigorously and long. There was a faint crackle, a little +splutter, and--glory of glories!--a tiny flame faltered out into the +darkness. + +"Oh--_be careful_!" + +Varney cupped his hand about the little flare, and for a moment ceased +to breathe. Then it caught more fully, and it was evident to both that +the victory was won. + +He had meant to look instantly about for lamp or candle to light; but if +all his future happiness had hinged upon it, it seemed to him that he +could not have helped one glance at the lady who shared that shelter and +that match with him. + +She stood a few feet away, regarding him breathlessly, hatted, gloved, +all in white, one hand resting lightly on the center-table, one folded +about the crook of a dainty draggled parasol. The match threw a small +and ghostly light, but he saw her, and she wore no veil. + +"Why--why--I--" + +"Oh, quick! There's a lamp just behind you." + +He caught himself with a start. By incredible luck a lamp was at his +very elbow; as it was the match died on the wick. He put back the +chimney and shade, turned up the wick, and the room was bathed in golden +light. + +It was a good-sized room, evidently newly furnished and as neat as a +bandbox. The empty book-case on which the lamp rested was of handsome +quartered oak, which transiently struck him as curious. But in the next +instant he turned away and forgot all about it. + +The lady stood where she had risen and was regarding him without a word. +The lamplight fell full upon her. He came nearer, and his waning +assurance shook him like a pennant in the wind and was suddenly gone. +The sense of _camaraderie_ which the dark had given faded; his easy +friendliness left him; and he was an embarrassed young man face to face +with a girl whose sudden beauty seemed to overwhelm him with the +knowledge that he did not so much as know her name. + +"None of my thumbnail sketches," he faltered, "made you look like this." + +She had rested her wet parasol against the table, where a slow pool +gathered at the ferrule, and was pulling on more trimly her long white +gloves. Now she looked at him rather quizzically, though her young eyes +reflected something of his own unsteadying embarrassment. + +"No," she said, "I shall not be sixty-two for--for some time yet. But of +course it was a game--a pastime--where I had a--little the advantage. Do +you know, I--I am not entirely surprised, after all." + +"Oh, aren't you?" he said, completely mystified, but as charmed by her +smile as he was by the subtle change in her manner which had come with +the lighting of that match. + +"And it _was_ nice of you to tell me that polite story at the +beginning," she said. "And quick--and clever. When I heard the front +door burst open, the first thing I thought of, really, was that it must +be you." + +"I can't think," he said, unable to take his eyes off her, "what in the +world you are talking about." + +She laughed with something of an effort, and sat down exquisitely in a +cruel cane chair. "Well, then--_do_ you forgive me for taking possession +of your house like this? You will, won't you? I can't be silly, now, and +pretend not to know you. But really I never dreamed that you--" + +"Is it possible," he broke in stormily, "that you are mistaking me for +that insufferable Stanhope?" + +She looked at him startled, dumfounded; in her eyes amazement mingled +with embarrassment; then her brow wrinkled into a slow, doubtful smile. + +"Oh-h--I beg your pardon! I--did n't understand. But is it my fault that +I've seen your picture a hundred times? Yes, I suppose it is; for, at +the risk of making you crosser still, I'll confess that I--I cut it out +and framed it." + +Varney leaned his elbow on the mantel and faced her. + +"You have made a mistake," he said. "I am not Mr. Stanhope." + +"You mean," she laughed, very pretty and pink, "that it is no affair of +mine that you are." + +A kind of desperation seized him. It was evident that she did not +believe him, just as Coligny Smith had not believed him, and the plump +young woman of the grocery who had used his Christian name. He was +almost ready not to believe himself. However, there were cards in his +pocket; he got one of them out, and coming nearer, handed it to her. + +"My name is Laurence Varney," he said mechanically, for that slogan +seemed fated to meet skeptics everywhere. "I am from New York and have +happened to come up here on a friend's yacht to--to spend a few days. +You have made a mistake." + +She took the card, held it lightly in her gloved hand, bowed to him with +mocking courtesy. + +"I am very glad to meet you--Mr. Laurence Varney! I--I am from New York, +too, and have happened to come up here on the New York Central with my +mother to spend a few years. And I live in a white house half a mile +down the road, where I ought to have been an hour ago. And I am Mary +Carstairs, who has read all your books and thinks that they--Oh"--she +broke off all at once: for there was no missing the look in his +astounded face. "What in the world have I said now?" + +"You--can't be--_Mary Carstairs_!" he cried. + +"Is--that so terrible?" she laughed, a little uncertainly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +IN WHICH MARY CARSTAIRS IS INVITED TO THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +But he recovered in a flash, aware of the criticalness of that moment, +and met her bewildered gaze steadily. + +"Terrible? Certainly not. Your name surprised me a little. That was all. +I thought, you see, that you were somebody else." + +"Yes? Who?" + +"I really--do not know exactly. Do forgive my stupidity, won't you? As I +say, I was just a little surprised." + +"You would explain to a man," she said, "and don't you think you ought +to to me? If you did not know exactly who you thought I was, why should +my name surprise you so?" + +He picked up a hideous china swan from a smart little oak stand and +examined it with excessive interest. + +"It was merely that I happen to know some one in New York who had +mentioned you--and done it in a way to make me think you were not--very +old. In fact, I had supposed that Miss Mary Carstairs wore short dresses +and a plait down her back. You see," he said, with a well-planned smile, +"how absurdly wrong I was. And then, just now, somebody pointed out your +house to me. There was a girl standing in the doorway--a small, dark +girl, with--" + +A peal like chimes cut him short. "Dear Jenny Thurston! Our +seamstress's little girl. She is spending the day with my mother, while +I've been spending most of the day with _her_ mother! Turn about! But I +wish you'd tell me," she said, "who it is that could have spoken of +me--to you. How interesting that we have a friend in common!" + +"Not a friend," he said grimly, at the window. "Only a former-- +acquaintance of yours--somebody that I imagine you have pretty well +forgotten. I'll tell you--another time. But I see it has stopped raining, +Miss--Miss--Miss Carstairs. Perhaps we had better take advantage of the +lull to start?--for I hope you are going to let me act for Mr. Hare, and +walk home wih you." + +"Oh--would you! Then indeed we had!" she said rising at once. "I am +horribly late now: I know my mother is frantic. I don't mind your not +telling me that, really! But--it is odd that you should have spoken of +my age twice to-night. Shall I tell you something, Mr. Stanhope--to show +you why I have had to give up pigtails? This is my birthday: I am +nineteen to-day!" + +She raised her eyes, shining, heavy-fringed, deep as the sea and bluer, +and looked at him. His own fell instantly. A shade of annoyance flitted +across his still face. + +"It is a delightful surprise," he said, mechanically. "But you must not +call me Mr. Stanhope, please, Miss Carstairs." + +"Why--mayn't I call you by your name?" + +"My name," said Varney, "in fairly legible print, is on the card which +you hold in your hand." + +She raised her eyes and looked at him, perplexed, hesitating, a little +mortified, like one who has encountered an unlooked-for rebuff. "Forgive +me," she ventured rather shyly, "but do you think it would be possible +for you to--to keep an incog here--where you must have so many friends? +If you want to do that--to try it--of course I'll not tell a soul. But +I'd like it very much if you could trust--_me_, who have known you +through your books for so long." + +"I should be quite willing to trust you, Miss Carstairs, but there is +nothing to trust you about. I am not incog. I am not the author. I have +written no books whatever--" + +"Ah! Then good-bye," she said with a swift change of manner, starting at +once for the door. "I shall not trouble you to walk home with me. Thank +you again for giving me shelter and light during the storm." + +"Will you be good enough to wait one minute?" + +She paused with one gloved hand on the knob, cool, resolute, a little +angry, the blue battery of her eyes fixing him across her white +embroidered shoulder. But he had turned away, hands thrust deep into the +pockets of his coat, brow rumpled into a frown, jaw set to anathema of +the plight in which a needless fortune had plunged him. + +If he let Uncle Elbert's daughter go like this, he might as well put the +_Cypriani_ about at once for New York, for he knew that he would never +have the chance to talk with her again. With engaging young +friendliness which overrode reserve, she had been moved to ask his +confidence, and he had angered her, even hurt her feelings, it seemed, +by appearing to withhold it. In return she had thrown down the issue +before him, immediate and final. Abstract questions of morals, and there +were new ones of great seriousness now, would have to wait. Should he +allow her to think that he was another man, or should he bid her +good-bye and abandon his errand? + +There was no alternative: she had made that unmistakable. His oath to +her father came suddenly into his mind. After all, was it not a little +absurd to boggle over one small deception when the whole enterprise, as +now suddenly revealed, was to be nothing but one continuous and colossal +one? + +"Miss--Miss Carstairs," said Varney, "with _you_ I shall not argue this. +I am going to let you think I am whoever you want. We needn't say +anything more about it, need we? Only--I'll ask you to call me by the +name I gave you, please, and, so far as you can, to regard me that way. +Is that--a bargain?" + +Mary Carstairs stood at the threshold of the lighted room, looking at +him from under her wide white hat, eyes shining, lips smiling, cheeks +faintly flushed with a sense of the triumph she had won. + +"Of course," she said. "And I don't think you'll need ever be sorry for +having trusted me--_Mr. Varney!"_ + +He bowed stiffly. "If you will kindly open the door, I will blow out the +lamp and give myself the pleasure of taking you home." + +They left the hospitable cottage of Ferris Stanhope, and went out into +the night, side by side, Varney and Mary Carstairs. The young man's +manner was deceptively calm, but his head was in a whirl. However, the +one vital fact about the situation stood out in his mind like a tower +set on a hill. This was that Uncle Elbert's daughter was walking at his +elbow, on terms of acquaintanceship and understanding. The thing had +happened with stunning unexpectedness, but it had happened, and the game +was on. The next move was his own, and what better moment for making it +would he ever have? + +The road was dark and wet. Rain-drops from the trees fell upon them as +they walked, gathered pools splashed shallowly under their feet. +Suddenly Varney said: + +"Do you happen to be interested in yachts, Miss Carstairs? Mine is +anchored just opposite your house, I believe, and it would be a pleasure +to show her to you sometime." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +CONCERNING MR. FERRIS STANHOPE, THE POPULAR NOVELIST; ALSO PETER, THE +QUIET ONLOOKER + +Peter had not yet returned to the yacht when Varney went to bed that +night. Like the Finnegan of song, he was gone again when Varney rose +next morning. Indeed, it was only too clear that his Celtic interests +had been suddenly engrossed by matters much nearer his heart than the +prospect, as he saw the thing, of spanking a naughty child. + +"He was off by half-past eight, sir," the steward, McTosh, told Varney +at breakfast. "He said to tell you to give yourself no uneasiness, sir; +that he was only going to Mr. Hare's--I think was the name--for a short +call, and would return by ten o'clock." + +"What else did he say?" + +"Well, sir, he was saying how the poltix of the village is not all they +might be, but he seemed very cheerful, sir, and took three times to the +chops." + +At dinner-time last night such extraordinary behavior from his +fellow-conspirator would have both disturbed and angered Varney. At +breakfast-time this morning it hardly interested him. He had employed +his walk from the cottage of refuge to the Carstairs front gate to +unbelievable advantage. In fact, his mission in Hunston seemed to be all +over but the shouting, and until the moment of final action arrived, +there appeared no reason why Peter should not employ his time in any way +he saw fit. + +The heavy storm had scoured the air, and the world was bright as a new +pin. In the shaded solitude of the after-deck, Mr. Carstairs's agent sat +in an easy-chair with a cigarette, and thought over the remarkable +happenings of his first night in Hunston. In retrospect young Editor +Smith seemed to be but the ordered instrument of fate, dispatched in a +rowboat to draw him against his will from the yacht to the town, where +all his business was neatly arranged for his doing. Certainly it +appeared as if the hand of intelligent destiny must have been in it +somewhere. No mere blind luck could have driven him half a mile into the +country to the one spot in all Hunston--impossibly unlikely as it +was--where he could become acquainted with Uncle Elbert's daughter +without the formality of an introduction. + +Uncle Elbert! How desperately the old man must desire his daughter to +have planned a mad scheme like this with a subterfuge at the expense of +his best friend cunningly hidden away in the heart of it. Yet, after the +first staggering flash, Varney had found it impossible to be angry with +Mr. Carstairs. He only felt sorry for him, sorrier than he had ever felt +for anybody in his life. The old man's madness and his deceit were but +the measure of his desire for his daughter. And the more he desired her, +so it seemed to Varney, the more he was entitled to have her. + +Interrupting his meditations, the steward approached on silent feet, +bearing a flat brown-paper package in his hand. It appeared that the +under-steward had just returned from a marketing tour in Hunston, had +met Mr. Maginnis on the street, and been ordered to take back the parcel +to Mr. Varney. + +"All right, McTosh," said Varney. + +He broke the string with some curiosity and pulled off the wrappers. +Within was nothing but a copy of a current literary monthly. + +A present of a magazine from Peter! This was a delicate apology for his +remissness, indeed. "He will be sending me chocolates next," thought +Varney, not a little puzzled. + +He turned the pages curiously. Soon, observing a bit of brown +wrapping-paper sticking out between the leaves, he opened the magazine +at that point and found himself looking at a picture; and he sat still +and stared at it for a long time. + +It was the full-page portrait of a young man of some thirty years: a +rather thin young man with a high forehead, a straight nose, and a +smallish chin. The face was good-looking, but somehow not quite +attractive. About the eyes was an expression faintly unpleasant, which +the neat glasses did not hide. On the somewhat slack lip was a slight +twist, not agreeable, which the well-kept mustache could not conceal. +Still it was an interesting face, clever, assured, half-insolent. To +Varney, it was exceptionally interesting; for removing the mustache and +eye-glasses, it might have passed anywhere for his own. + +Below the portrait was printed this legend: + +_FERRIS STANHOPE_. + +The popular author of "Rosamund," etc., who will reopen the old Stanhope +cottage near Hunston, New York, and spend the autumn there upon a new +novel. + +Mr. Stanhope's health has not been good of late, and his physicians have +recommended an extended stay in this quiet Hudson River country. + + * * * * * + +Here was that "Mr. Ferris," whom the young lady of the grocery had coyly +saluted; the "Beany," whom the pale young editor had bluntly bidden to +leave town; and the literary celebrity whom Miss Mary Carstairs so +evidently and so warmly admired. Varney stared at the portrait with a +kind of fascination. Now he saw many points of difference between the +face of "the popular author" and his own. The resemblance was only +general, after all. Still it was undoubtedly strong enough to warrant +all kinds of mistakes. + +What a very extraordinary sort of thing to have happen! + +Suddenly his eye fell upon a penciled line in the white margin above the +picture which had at first escaped him: + +"On no account leave the yacht till I come back. Vitally important." + +Varney pitched the magazine across the deck with an irritated laugh. +Peter--utterly ignorant of how matters stood--attempting to fire off +long-distance orders and direct his movements. The splendid gall! + +As it chanced, he had no occasion to leave the yacht, either before or +after Peter got back. His work was done. He made himself comfortable +with morning papers and a novel--not one of Mr. Stanhope's--and began to +seek beguilement. + +But his reading went forward rather fitfully. There were long intervals +when his book, "eleventh printing" though it was, slipped forgotten to +his knees, and he sat staring thoughtfully over the sunny water.... + +Peter failed to keep his promise about returning to the yacht at ten +o'clock. In fact, it was four o'clock that afternoon when he arrived, +and at that, the manner in which he sprang up the stair indicated him as +a man who had but few moments to spare to yachts and that sort of thing. + +Varney, at his ease upon the transom, watched his friend's approach with +a quizzical eye. + +"Greetings, old comrade! How did you leave them all in Hunston?" + +Peter, who, truth to tell, had been looking forward to bitter personal +denunciation, looked somewhat relieved, and laughed. However, his manner +suggested little of hang-dog consciousness of guilt; it was far too +absorbed and business-like for that. He dropped down into a chair by +Varney and swabbed the back of his neck with a damp-looking +handkerchief. + +"Larry, who'd have dreamed last night that we were parting for all this +time?" + +"Well, not I for one." + +"Awfully sorry about it all, and I know you'll think I'm acting like a +funny kind of helper. I hadn't the faintest idea of bottling you up on +the yacht all day like this, but--well, you might say, Larry, that a man +couldn't help it to save his life. I certainly meant to be back by the +time you had finished breakfast and explain the whole situation to +you--there are a deuced lot of complications, you know--but one thing +led right on to another and--good Lord! I couldn't find a minute with a +fine-tooth comb." + +"It's all right, statesman. You don't hear me making any complaints. All +I ask is a little _resume_ of what you've been doing since you so +cleverly lost me. In Reform to the ears, I suppose?" + +Peter again looked rather surprised at his chief's easy indifference. + +"You want that part of it first? Well," he said rapidly, "I've been +trying to do four days' work for Reform in one, and a pinch it's been to +make both ends meet, I can tell you. At it practically without a break +since I left you last night. J. Pinkney took me right in and bared his +soul. Said he was down and out and beaten to a fluid. A clever little +devil fast enough, but no more idea of how to play the game than a baby +baboon. When he caught on to what I wanted to do for him, he would have +fallen on my neck except that he isn't that kind. That was this morning. +I worked out my idea in the still watches: couldn't sleep for thinking +of it. It just means this: if my plans carry through Hare gets the +biggest hearing to-night that this old town can give. And I think +they'll carry all right. You wouldn't be interested in the details. Now +this other thing--" + +"Oh, but I would, though! Give me at least a peep behind the scenes +before you dash on. What about these plans of yours?" + +Peter laid down the newspaper with which he had been busily fanning +himself. A sudden light came into his eyes. + +"I'll tell you just how it all happened," he said in an eager voice. +"Only I'll have to hurry, as I'm due back in town right away--that is, +of course, unless you should need me for anything. Well, I left Hare +last night after only a couple of hours' talk, listening to the same old +story of boss-rule, and giving him, if I do say it, some cracking good +practical pointers. By the way, we were interrupted at that. Hadn't got +started before Hare remembered that he'd promised to bring some girl +home from somewhere, and dragged me off a mile down the road, only to +find out afterwards that she'd gone home with somebody else. Made me +tired. I left him about ten o'clock and started down Main Street for the +river, meaning to come straight back here. But as I was footing it +along, thinking over my talk with Hare and attending to my own business, +who should brace me but that pale-faced rascal we saw playing dead in +the rowboat. This time the _poseur_ was lying flat on some packing-cases +in front of a store, and who do you suppose he turned out to be?" + +"The brains of the machine," said Varney. + +He told briefly of his own meeting with Coligny Smith at the same spot +two hours earlier, and of the editor's stagey warnings. + +"Exactly the way he did me!" cried Peter. "Saved the announcement of +who he was for the grand _finale_ in Act V. I got mad as a wet hen, told +him what I thought of him in simple language, and then when the grafter +twitted me to go and do something about it, I broke loose and swore that +I'd make Hare Mayor of Hunston if I had to buy the little two-by-twice +town to do it. Told him to pack his trunk, for all the crooks would soon +be traveling toward the timber. So then I turned right around, hiked +back to Hare's, told him what I'd done, gave him my hand on it, and +pulled out the old family check-book. This morning I went to him and +laid before him the greatest scheme that ever was. You know Hare can't +get a hall to speak in for love or money--nobody dares rent him one; he +can't buy an inch of space in the _Gazette_; he can't put spreads on the +billboards without having 'em pasted out in the night. To-night the +whole thing's been done for him--Ryan's big town-meeting. Well, we're +going to try to _swipe that meeting_--do you see? I'm getting in some +husky fellows from New York to see fair play, and so on. Oh, it's a +bully chance--you can see! I've spent a nice bunch of father's money +working the scheme up, and, by George! I believe we are going to get by +with it. If we do--well, we give this town the biggest shock it's had in +years, and that's the way reform begins, Larry. _Shock_!" + +Something of his contagious enthusiasm spread to and fired Varney. Fate +had thrown in their way a plucky and honest man engaged in an apparently +hopeless fight against overwhelming powers of darkness. He deserved +help. And what possible risk was there now when the _Cypriani's_ work +was practically done? + +"I can't say," continued Peter dutifully, "that this is exactly playing +the quiet onlooker, as my orders read. As I said last night, I consider +that this excursion into politics will help our little business, not +interfere with it. It will divert attention. It will seem to explain why +we are here. But if you don't agree with me, if you want me to drop +it--" + +"No," said Varney, slowly. "I don't." + +"Good for you, old sport!" cried Peter, evidently relieved. "Needless to +say, I'm right on the job whenever you need me. And nothing's going to +happen. Trust me. Now as to this other matter. You got that magazine I +sent this morning?" + +"Yes. Thanks for the picture of my twin brother. But why couldn't I +leave the yacht till you got back?" + +Peter stared. "Why, just that, of course. Deuced unfortunate +coincidence, isn't it? Everybody in town is going to think that you are +this fellow Stanhope." + +"Well?" + +"_Well_? Oh, I forgot--you haven't heard. Well, from the stories that +are floating round town to-day, Stanhope is a cad of the original brand. +He was born here--lived here until he was twenty-one or two. Women were +his trouble. The climax came about twelve years ago. The girl was named +Orrick--Mamie Orrick, I believe. Nobody knows exactly what became of +her, but they practically ran Stanhope out of the town then. Well--there +it is." + +He paused long enough to light one of his Herculean cigars, employing +his hat as a wind-shield, and rapidly continued: "It's very curious and +strange, and all that, but there it is. A month or so ago the _Gazette_ +announced that Stanhope was coming back to Hunston. Last night you were +seen on the square, and now the news has spread like wildfire that the +author has arrived. Hare heard a lot of gossip on the street to-day. +He's lived here only a few years and doesn't know anything personally; +but he says the old feeling against Stanhope seems to have revived as +though it had all happened yesterday. Orrick, the girl's father, a +half-witted old dotard, was heard to say that he would shoot on sight. +There are three or four others besides Orrick who've got personal +grudges too. If any of these meet you, there is almost sure to be +trouble. How is that for a little complication?" + +"And this was the reason you sent me word to lock myself up on the +_Cypriani_? You're a bird, Peter. Not that it made any difference, but I +ventured to suppose that my leaving before you got back would interfere +with some plans you had been making for me, and--" + +"It would interfere with some plans I have been making for you, in a +general way, to have you assassinated." + +"Stuff. Ten to one all these stories that somebody has been so careful +to have get back to you are right out of the whole cloth--" + +"What's the use of setting up your cranky opinions against the hard +facts? The plain truth is that everybody who ever heard of Stanhope is +going to give you the cold shoulder for a dog; we can depend absolutely +on that." + +But Varney had his own reasons for depending on nothing of the sort. + +"You've been imposed upon, Peter. In fact, one of the population mistook +me for the author last night, and instead of giving me the cold +shoulder, as you say, she seemed to think that being Stanhope was the +best credentials that a man could have." + +"She? Who're you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about Uncle Elbert's daughter, Miss Mary Carstairs. I had +the pleasure of meeting her last night." + +"The devil you did!" cried Peter, laughing with astonishment. "You +certainly walk off with the prize for prompt results. How in the world +did you manage it?" + +Varney told him succinctly how he had managed it. + +"Fine! Fine! Honestly, I was getting afraid that you never could do it +at all, with the rotten reputation they've pinned on you here. Good +enough! Still it's absurd to cite the opinion of a little child in a +matter like this." + +"It depends upon what you call a little child, doesn't it? Miss +Carstairs is nineteen years old." + +Peter straightened in his chair with a jerk, and stared at him as though +one or the other had suddenly gone mad. + +"_Nineteen_! Why, I thought she was twelve." + +"So did I." + +"Why, how in Sam Hill did you ever make such an asinine mistake?" + +Varney gave an impatient laugh. + +"What difference does that make now? My impression was that the +separation took place about eight years ago. It may have been twelve. My +other impression was that the girl was about four at the time. She may +have been eight instead. If it's of any interest to you, I should say +that the mistake was natural enough. Besides, Uncle Elbert rather helped +it along." + +"Uncle Elbert rather lied to you--that's what he did," said Peter with +the utmost quietness. + +There was a considerable silence. Peter pulled frowningly at his cigar; +it had gone out but he was too absorbed to notice it, and mechanically +pulled on. Presently he raised his head and looked at Varney. + +"Well? This ends it, I suppose? You'll go back to New York this +afternoon?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to stay and carry it through just as I +expected." + +Peter tapped the chair-arm with his heavy fingers. "Why?" + +"Because--well, I promised to, and on the strength of my promise, Uncle +Elbert has gone to trouble and expense for one thing, and has pinned +high hopes on me, for another. I had my chance to ask questions and make +terms and stipulations--and I didn't do it. That was my fault. I am not +even sure that he meant to deceive me. I have no right to break a +contract because I find that my part in it is going to be harder than I +thought." + +"This business about her age changes everything. Carstairs has no legal +rights over a nineteen-year-old daughter." + +"Legal rights! My dear Peter, you never supposed I thought I was doing +anything legal, did you? No, no; the moral part of it has been my prop +and stay all along, and that still holds. I promised without conditions, +and I'll go ahead on the same terms." + +"Give me a match," said Peter thoughtfully. "Maybe you are right, +Larry," he added presently. "I only wanted to point out another way of +looking at it. I stand absolutely by your decision. You think that this +girl is wrong-headed and obstinate, and that her father has a moral +right to have her, over age or not. This--discovery makes it a pretty +serious business, but of course you've thought of all that. But--will it +be possible now?" + +"I have invited her," said Varney, with a light laugh, "to lunch on the +_Cypriani_ on Thursday with two or three other Hunston friends." + +"Well?" + +"She accepted with every mark of pleasure. Great men like Stanhope, it +seems, require no introduction: it beats me. The point now is to find +the other Hunston friends." + +"Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne--the very thing!--chaperon and all! +I'll invite them to-night. Then the whole thing's done!" Peter sat +silent a moment, looking at Varney. "I've been awfully rushed to-day," +he resumed, "because if I was going to help Hare at all, I didn't dare +lose this one big opportunity. But remember, anything that has to be +done from now on--I'm your man." + +"There'll be nothing more now until Thursday. The thing's practically +done." + +Peter was still looking at him steadily. "It's going to be dirt easy, +provided we don't weaken. You can't do things to your friends, but you +can emphatically do them to your enemies. We have got to remember always +that this girl, who has been so heartless to her old fool of a father, +is our enemy." + +"Yes, that is what we have got to remember." + +"Good Lord!" cried Peter, looking at his watch. "Twenty minutes past +four, and I must be at the hall at four-thirty sharp. I'll have to sneak +right away. You're going to sit tight on the yacht, of course?" + +"Never! I like to have a little of the fun myself. I must certainly take +in this meeting to-night, and watch you put your heel on their necks and +all that." + +"Don't! With what you've got to do, you can't afford to expose yourself. +What's the use of running risks, even little ones, when there is nothing +to gain?" + +"Satan reproving sin! Fudge! Free yourself once for all, my dear sir, +that I'm starring in The Prisoner on the Yacht for the next three days, +or anything of that sort." + +"Well, if you will go," said Peter, reluctantly, "here's a reserved seat +ticket--a peacherine, right up at the front." + +"Great! Count on me to lead the applause." + +Peter rose. His engrossed brow advertised the fact that his thought had +already flown back to his own private maelstrom of new concerns. + +"If Hare gets his chance to-night," he meditated out loud, "you can rely +on him to make the most of it. He'll make good; he's a man, sound in +wind and limb, head and heart. I do wish, though, he wasn't so--somehow +innocent--so easy--so confoundedly affable and handshaking with +everybody that comes along. There's a sneaky-looking stranger at the +hotel--rubber-heeled fellow named Higginson, with one of these black +felt hats pulled down over his eyes like a stage villain--that Hare +never laid eyes on till to-day. For all he knows the man may be an agent +of Ryan's, a hired spy imported to--By Jove! That's just what he is, +I'll bet!" he cried suddenly; and after a frowning pause, hurried warmly +on: "Don't you remember last night, just after we hit the town, I said +there was a man following us--sneaked up the alley when he saw me +looking at him?" + +"I believe I do, Peter. But the fact is that I met so many exciting +people last night--" + +"It's the same man--it was Higginson!" said Peter positively. "I'm sure +of it! I didn't get a look at his face last night, but it's the same +hat, same figure--everything. I'll bet anything he's on Ryan's payroll; +and there's little Hare hobnobbing with him as friendly as though they'd +been classmates at college! That kind of free-for-all geniality doesn't +go, you know! A reformer in a rotten town like this," said Peter +vehemently "would do well to cultivate a profound distrust of +strangers." + +Varney burst out laughing. + +"You yourself have known Hare from the cradle, I believe?" + +"I'm different," said Peter without a smile. "Well! I must move. Now +let's see--that lunch. What time shall I ask Hare and Mrs. Marne for?" + +"Two o'clock, Thursday. I didn't have the nerve," Varney explained, "to +ask Miss Carstairs for to-day--rather lucky I didn't--and she was +engaged for Thursday." + +"Right. I'll arrange it all. Well, for the Lord's sake take care of +yourself to-night, Larry, and trust me to keep out of trouble. So long." + +Varney looked after Peter's disappearing back, and envied him all the +fun he was having. His own lot was certainly far less entertaining. +However, it was his own; and here he resembled his friend in one respect +at least. His thoughts, like Peter's, had a way just now of reverting at +short notice to the matters in which he himself was most closely +concerned. + +He lay back idly among the cushions, and let his mind once more run over +the unexpected problems of his situation. + +The new graveness of what he was pledged to do had, of course, been +strongly present in his mind from the first moment of revelation. +Kidnapping a nineteen-year-old girl was certainly, as Peter had pointed +out, a pretty serious business. He perceived that it would not look well +in the papers in the least. Also if she cared to raise a row +afterwards, there might be an aftermath which would not be wholly a +laughing matter. + +Nevertheless, this side of the question seemed remote and of minor +interest to him just now. The problem appeared to be a personal one, not +a question of statutes and judges. In his talk with Miss Carstairs +before he knew her by name, he had failed to notice anything that +suggested the spoiled and wilful child he had come to find. He could +remember nothing she had said or done that helped him at all to think of +her as his enemy. The fact was that it was all quite the other way. And +this helped him to understand now, as he had not understood before, why +Uncle Elbert had begged a solemn oath from him with such a piteous look +on his handsome, haggard old face. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +VARNEY MEETS WITH A GALLING REBUFF, WHILE PETER GOES MARCHING ON + +Peter's pronounced views as to Mr. Stanhope were not, it appeared, +purely of the stuff that dreams are made of. Testimony to the author's +lack of popularity in his native town came to Varney with unexpected +promptness. + +In the corner of the square, as he swung along toward the Academy +Theatre that evening, he found himself suddenly confronted by a man who, +lounging against the fence of a shabby dwelling, straightened +dramatically at his approach and bent a sharp gaze upon him. He was a +tall, shambling fellow with a white cloth swathed about the top of his +head; and Varney, in the act of passing, suddenly recognized him as the +dog man, whom Peter had knocked out the night before. His gaze was a +wanton challenge for the young man to stop, and Varney cheerfully +accepted it. + +"Why, it's--Mr.--er--Hackley, isn't it?" + +The man's bandage left only one eye free to operate, and he kept this +upon Varney with a curious unwinking stare. + +"Yes," said he slowly, "I'm Hackley." + +"How'd the dog come out?" asked Varney. + +"Dead," said Hackley, as quiet in mien as the Hackley of last night was +bellicose. "Dead _an'_ buried." + +"I'm sorry," said Varney, his glance on the head-cloth. "The man who did +the kicking was a friend of mine, and he wouldn't want you to lose your +dog without some compensation. Er--please accept this with his +compliments and regrets." + +Hackley, his single washed-out eye starting with pleasure, accepted the +proffered note with a gesture resembling a clutch, investigated its size +in the dim light with hardly concealed delight, and pinned it into his +waistcoat pocket with a large brass safety-pin. Then he raised his head +slowly and looked at Varney. + +"Why n't you leave town to-night, Stanhope?" he inquired casually. + +Varney started. Almost to the very language this was exactly what Editor +Smith had suggested to him the night before. + +"Why do you call me Stanhope, Hackley? My name happens to be Laurence +Varney." + +Mr. Hackley's gaze never relaxed. "Chuck it," he said without emotion. +"A sensible and eddicated man," he added impersonally, "never lies when +a lie couldn't do him no good. If I was you, Stanhope, I wouldn't lose a +minute in cuttin' loose from this town." + +"If I were Stanhope, I daresay I wouldn't either. But suppose I were," +he added, "why shouldn't I stay here if I wanted to?" + +"For one reason," said Mr. Hackley deliberately, "there's me. When I'm +a-feelin' myself, there ain't a cammer, a more genteel nor lor-abidin' +citizen in Hunston. As for fussin' and fightin', I'd no more think of it +than a dyin' inverlid in the orspitle. But only throw a few drinks under +my belt like last night, and I'm a altogether different creetur. And I'm +mighty afraid that the next time I over-drink myself and don't rightly +know what I'm doin', I'll go out after you with a club. And then +there'll be trouble." + +"But why should you want to go after Stanhope with a club? What did he +ever do to you?" + +"Don't you know? I married Mamie Orrick's little sister!" + +"Most interesting," said Varney, "as a bit of genealogy, but what's it +got to do with Stanhope and the club?" + +But Mr. Hackley said again, cryptically: "Chuck it." Then, softened by +the young man's pleasant ways, and by the windfall of a fortune pinned +into his vest: "Be sensible, Stanhope," he added amiably. "I ain't the +only one. Old Orrick's heard that you've hit the town and is totin' a +gun and talk-in' wild. And, of course, there's others. Don't jump off no +tall buildin's, I say, expectin' Providence to land you soft. There's a +train to Noo York at eight-ten. Cut while you can!" + +"Why, thanks," said Varney, laughing and starting on. "If I should see +Mr. Stanhope at any time, I won't fail to pass him the friendly tip." + +"And if you should see that friend o' yourn," called Hackley after him, +"him that gimme the paste in the jor--you c'n just tell him that Jim +Hackley is goin' to fix you both, _good!_" + +"At your convenience, Hackley." + +The young man passed on, undisturbed by the dog man's quaint menaces. He +did not exactly see himself and Peter getting into trouble at the hands +of a crack-brained village humorist. + +Streams of people, converging from all directions, guided him easily to +the theatre. Pushing his way in, he found the stage empty and the +proceedings not yet begun; and he stood for a minute at the inner door, +glancing over the house. It was crowded. Oratory is a real inducement in +societies seldom blessed with that attraction. Even lemonade is a magnet +if you get it seldom and never to surfeit. Already men were sitting in +the long low windows which ran down either side of the building; and a +score of ushers, singularly alert-looking men, were hurriedly +distributing camp-chairs to accommodate the overflow. Certainly, Peter +could have desired no better setting for his daring adventure for +reform. + +Thanks to the reserved seat which his friend's reluctant liberality had +furnished him, Varney was in no hurry to join the throng inside. +Presently, to get clear of the rush at the doors, he strolled into the +lobby and idly stood at one side, watching the people streaming by. + +Thus, by sheer luck, he became witness to the crucial episode of the +evening. An oily Teutonic voice spoke just at his elbow: + +"Id's eight o'clock, I zee. We'd better go back und gif Taylor his +speech, I guess." + +The young man turned. He happened to be standing just in front of the +little cubby of a box-office. In it stood two men, one large and fat and +blonde, the other short and stocky and dark. This latter, looking up +from a typewritten manuscript, spoke briefly: + +"No hurry. Find Smith if you can and send him here." + +The fat oily person departed obediently. Immediately there stepped +through the door of the box-office a rough-looking man in a slouch hat, +with three days' stubble stippling a grimy chin. He shut the door +carefully and came near. Varney, from where he stood, could see and hear +everything. + +"Mr. Ryan?" + +The stocky, dark man nodded. _Aha!_ thought Varney. + +"Then step outside a minute, will yer? There's a genaman wants to speak +to you right away on a matter as concerns you close." + +Ryan coldly looked the man over: "Then tell him to come in here. No! I +ain't got no time to fool with him now. Tell him to go to the devil." + +The stranger never moved a muscle. "There's a reason w'y he can't come +in here--you'll see when you come outside, all right." Then bringing his +dark face sharply a foot nearer, he went on in a hasty undertone: "Hey, +you! Ever hear of a man named Maginnis?" + +Ryan had: Peter's fame had traveled far in Hunston that day. + +"Well, listen! There's a game on to bust this meetin' to-night and put +the hook into you good and hard. Maginnis has spent a thousand to do it. +D'yer savvy? Now will yer step lively?" + +The boss considered a moment and then stepped lively. Varney, falling in +behind, stepped lively too, his curiosity strongly stirred. But outside, +before the theatre, there was no sign of a gentleman awaiting an +audience: only the people pouring on into the Academy. + +"Around the corner," whispered the dark man hoarsely. "He dassen't wait +here. Quick!" + +Around the corner the pair hurried, Varney close in their wake. In the +silent alley, half-hidden in the shadows of the building, stood a large +carriage with a pair of strapping bays tugging at their traces. They +halted before it, and the stranger, who had considerately taken Ryan's +arm, flung open the door. + +"Here he is, Jim--Mr. Ryan. Now you c'n tell him--" + +The sentence died unended. At the same moment the sound of a violent +scuffle smote the nocturnal air. It appeared that Jim, presumably +laboring under an unfortunate misapprehension, had not received his +visitor with that refined hospitality due from one gentleman to another. +Even more inexplicable, it looked in the deceitful darkness, remarkably +as though the boss's guide, suddenly dropping that gentleman's arm, had +laid forcible hold upon his outraged and madly protesting legs. + +It was all over in a minute. There was a faint yell, quickly and +violently muffled. Then the carriage door banged, leaving nobody on the +sidewalk, and the horses, responding to an acutely painful lash from the +strong arm on the box, sprang forward at the gallop. + +Varney stood in the dark alley, looking after the vanishing carriage +with mingled admiration and amazement. Swift footsteps sounded near him; +and the next moment a strong hand seized him and pulled him back into +the shadow of the wall. + +"_Sh-h! It's me_! Anybody see it?" + +"_Hello!_ Not a soul but me." + +Peter leaned against the wall and drew a deep breath. + +"He can never prove it on me--not to save his soul!--_and I hold his +meeting in the hollow of my hand_. Do you see that lighted window at +the back there? That's my last bridge. Waiting in there are the chairman +of the meeting and the mayor, who's the orator of the evening. I'm going +in and make 'em take me on as one of the platform speakers. I'll pass +out a few remarks and call on Hare--" + +"But how will you make them--" + +"They daren't refuse me anything," said Peter swiftly, and tapped his +breast-pocket. "I've papers here that mean stripes for them both. Mind +your eye, Larry, and be good!" + +He disappeared through the little gate toward the dressing-room, where +the officials of the meeting waited vainly for last instructions from +their lord. Varney looked after him with a sigh. In Hunston only +twenty-four hours and already to be running the town! + +He emerged from the alley feeling rather gloomy, and halted on the +sidewalk in front of the theatre, idly watching the people as they +poured in. The spectacle of this steady stream made a fitting background +for his meditations; for he was thinking, absently, of the extreme +boldness of Peter's course. Certainly, there was little here to suggest +the quiet onlooker. But all at once something happened which checked the +current of his thought as effectually as a slap upon the cheek. + +In that shifting, waste of strange faces, his vagrant eye suddenly fell +upon a familiar one--two, three familiar ones--and his flagging interest +sprang to life. There approached, side by side, J. Pinkney Hare, who, +though few knew it, might prove the brilliant hero of the night's +proceedings; the child, little Jenny Something, who had spent yesterday +at the Carstairs house, leading strangers to think that she was somebody +else; and Miss Carstairs herself, a fair flower in that moving tangle of +weeds. + +Hare saw Varney and bowed in his stiff affected way. But Varney's eyes +had already gone on to Miss Carstairs, and he did not return that +greeting. Seeing the little candidate lift his hat, her look followed +his, and so her eye met Varney's. + +When this happened her expression did not change, except that, so he +thought, she faintly colored. Varney awaited her bow; he half bowed +himself: a stiff smile was ready on his lips. But he never gave it. Her +eyes rested full upon him for a second, with no sign of recognition, and +then moved away; and the next moment she swept past him into the +theatre. + +There was no shadow of doubt about it. She who only last night had +treated him with such marked kindness, had unmistakably cut him. It +hardly seemed possible. Why, they had parted like friends! + +But he understood instantly what had happened. To her, he was Ferris +Stanhope; he himself had given her the right to think that. Since they +had parted, some of that unpleasant gossip about Stanhope--of which she +had known nothing last night--had made its way to her; and she had +believed it as to him, Laurence Varney. Yes, she had believed it as to +him. Peter was right, after all. A self-respecting girl owed it to +herself, it seemed, not to recognize him. Curiously, so strong was his +sense of the personal meaning of the insult that its more practical +aspects for the moment altogether escaped him. + +But that was only for the moment. In the next breath, it rushed over him +that with that cool glance the luncheon engagement upon which his whole +mission depended stood canceled; and with that thought he felt his will +hardening into iron. What she thought of him, personally, was of course +nothing; but no power should keep him from carrying through his plans +precisely as he had arranged them. He elbowed his way into the lobby to +find Uncle Elbert's daughter and make her retract that look. + +But it gradually became evident that Uncle Elbert's daughter was not in +the lobby: the most systematic exploration failed to reveal any trace of +her. In fact, it was certain that she had passed straight on to her seat +within the hall; whence a loud roar presently gave warning to stragglers +that the oratory had begun. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later Varney rose from his seat, at once marveling over the +splendor of Peter's _coup_ and bewildered by the blaze of publicity +which it had turned upon his comrade and co-schemer. The well-laid plans +had carried through to brilliant success, and Ryan's meeting had been +converted into a triumph for Ryan's deadly enemy, J. Pinkney Hare. + +The candidate had sat unobtrusively down in the audience with his friend +Miss Carstairs and the child Jenny,--spectators all: that was the way +they had arranged it. Peter, on the contrary, sat in the great white +light of a front seat on the stage, where he had masterfully intruded +himself in the galaxy of "other prominent citizens." And sure enough, +when the set speeches were over, it was the honorable chairman who +presented "a Mr. Maginnis of New York" to the meeting, doubtless having +been satisfactorily convinced beforehand that it was to his advantage to +do so. But, doubtless also convinced that there would be an accounting +to his master for this night's work, he rose to his duty only after Mr. +Maginnis had glared at him through a noticeable stage-wait, and then +made the introduction as prejudicial as he dared. + +Mr. Maginnis did not appear disconcerted in the least. He began +speaking with a pertinence and ease which rather surprised his friend +Varney down in the audience, and with words which instantly let the +dullest know that something unusual was taking place. However, he had +not proceeded far when, the house having become very still, he was +suddenly interrupted by a sharp hiss from the rear of the hall, and a +raucous voice which shouted: + +"Sit down, you! Nobody wants yer!" + +Laughter followed and various murmurs, some approving, a few protesting. +Ryan's good and faithful servants were evidently settling down to work. + +Peter's eye roved over the audience, seemed to catch something and lit +up with a faint signal. + +"The gentleman who made that remark," he said in tones of great +gentleness, "will kindly leave the hall at once." + +A ripple of merriment ran through the crowd, breaking in many places +into ostentatious guffaws. To those who knew the underside of those +meetings, the mild request appeared so ineffectual as to be merely +ridiculous. The honorable chairman, on the stage, hid a sinister smile +behind his hand. + +Then a strange thing happened. Four "ushers" moved silently down the +side-aisle, halted at the end of the sixth row from the rear, laid hands +upon an angry and wriggling little man who screamed to high heaven that +he hadn't done nothing, and dropped him out of the open window, which +was just five feet above the ground. + +It was rather a clean-cut piece of work, the moral effect of which was +in no wise weakened by the strong probability that they had ejected the +wrong man. It proved the turning-point in the evening's proceedings. +Ryanism seemed paralyzed by the mysterious absence of its chief, and a +few further essays by the faithful, more and more half-hearted in their +nature, made it plain that the control of that meeting had passed into +other hands. Peter, apologizing for the little interruption, told simply +but vividly how, coming to Hunston a stranger, he had instantly seen +that something was badly wrong with the town: how he had looked about at +the dirty streets, the dead business, the empty stores, the good men +idling, the good wives suffering for the money that streamed into the +big red saloon-- + +"That's right!" called a shrill, scared woman's voice. "That's right, +Mister!" + +"No!" Peter answered steadily. "It's the _wrongest_ thing that ever +was--God help you poor women!" + +Then a burst of hand-clapping, unforced by the faithful hirelings from +New York, ran unexpectedly through the house. + +Peter told how easy it had been to find out what was choking the life +out of Hunston. His open countenance, democratic manners, and pungent +speech produced a most favorable impression, and it was undeniable that, +for the moment at least, he had the house with him when he swung into +his peroration. + +"You know we are told," he said, "that it is the truth that makes us +free. Well, you are going to hear the truth to-night, at last. There is +a man listening to me at this moment who knows everything there is to be +known. Like me, he has no axe to grind, no special interest to promote, +no ambition but the manly wish to loose this town from the bonds with +which a dishonest boss has shackled it. He has sacrificed much to the +hope that he might help you, and for months he has been fighting against +big odds, just to get a chance to tell you the facts. To-night he has +got his chance, and you may be very sure that he will make the most of +it. + +"Relieving your honorable chairman of the trouble of rising for the +purpose, I take pleasure in introducing to you Mr. J. Pinkney Hare, who +is, with your consent, the next mayor of Hunston." + +Back in the center of the house, a foot scraped upon the floor, and +there was J. Pinkney Hare standing out in the aisle, his little black +bag stuffed with documents swinging in his hand. And then there arose, +to the surprise of everybody (barring those good fellows who had been +well paid for their work and were earnestly determined to earn it) a +deafening roar of applause, starting in the rear of the house, taken up +at certain definite points all through it, and gradually spreading +almost everywhere, many people joining in because they liked Peter +greatly and others without having any idea why. The roar subsided a +little as Hare drew near to the stage, mounted it, and deposited his +little bag upon the table. Then it broke again, more loudly, as he came +forward a step, looking out upon the crowded house--he who could not +hire a hall for himself--a little pale, a little awed by the bigness of +his chance, but with neither tremor nor uncertainty on his small, cool +face.... + +Hare spoke for an hour and a half, and not a soul left the hall. It was +impossible to call him off or cry him down: the plain sentiment of the +house was, "Give the little man his show." Afterwards, Chairman Bates +had made a desperate effort to overcome the damning effect of that +address, calling on various Ryanites of aggressive manners, and making a +second speech himself, but with little avail. Even the free fight which +broke out during the distribution of the ice-cream of the Neapolitans +(the announcement of which addition to the regular _menu_ evoked the +loudest spontaneous applause of the evening) resulted, until the police +checked it, decidedly in favor of the strangers from New York. + +This part of the evening's pleasures Varney did not see. He rose with +many others when the published tidings of refreshment gave notice that +the speechmaking was over, and turned his face toward the door against a +stream of ushers entering with alluring trays. Already all sense of the +daring brilliance of Peter's stroke had faded and dropped from his mind. +His own concerns crowded instantly upon his attention, and all his +thought was of finding Mary Carstairs immediately and compelling her to +recognize him for the man he was. + +She, too, had risen to leave the hall. While he listened to the fierce +philippic of J. Pinkney Hare, Varney's eye had carefully marked her +seat: it was empty now. Once, as he pushed his way slowly toward the +door, he caught a brief glimpse of her over in the other aisle, some +distance ahead of him; but he hardly saw her before she was lost to him +again, swallowed up in the jostling throng. The theatre was in an +uproar: all was noise and bustle and movement. And the wide lobby, when +at length he reached it, was no better; it looked scarcely more +promising to his quest than the traditional haystack to the searcher of +needles. + +Here were set the ice-cream freezers and the other paraphernalia of +delight, and about them was a struggling mob. Varney circled the throng +with a roving eye. Of the lady he saw no sign anywhere. But presently, +on the outer fringe of the cohorts which stormed the freezers, he came +upon the child Jenny, and knew that he had found a guide according to +his heart's desire. + +He touched her on the elbow. "Do you want to get some ice-cream?" + +She turned her homely little face up towards him, and said shyly: + +"Yes, sir. But they won't let me get near. And they say the chocolate is +going fast." + +"They'll let me get near," said Varney heartily. "Chocolate is it, then? +Lemonade, of course. And a thought of the cake with icing, shall we say? +Good! But you're not here alone, are you?" + +"No, sir. I'm here with Miss Mary--over there in that corner." + +"Well, you just run over there with her and wait. Trust everything here +to me." + +He emerged from the ruck a few moments later, disheveled but triumphant. +Hat under his arm and both hands heavily laden, he made a gingerly +progress to the place of his tryst, a comparatively unpopulated corner +near the door. And there she stood, her comely youth brought into sharp +relief by her surroundings, side by side with the living hunger and +thirst of Jenny, whose yearning eyes summoned the young man like a +beacon. + +Miss Carstairs happened to be looking in another direction. Varney, +standing before her, calmly took up their acquaintance where he had left +it last night at her mother's gate. + +"Good evening, Miss Carstairs. I bear refreshment for your little +friend. What a magnificent evening for Hare and Reform, isn't it?" + +She turned, startled at the sound of his voice, looked at him, and +looked at once away. + +"Oh ... yes, indeed. I--am waiting for Mr. Hare now. Jenny, are you sure +you haven't seen him come out?" + +"Yessum," said Jenny, her eyes all for the tall stranger. + +Unable to resist their imploring appeal, he turned at once and delivered +his burden. + +"Ice-cream--lemonade--" he made inventory--"cake with icing--tin +spoon--paper napkin in my pocket. Is there anything else?" + +"I think," said Jenny, conscientiously, "there's figs." + +"You do not wish any figs to-night, Jenny," declared Miss Carstairs, +rather more severely than mere figs seemed to warrant. + +"_No'm!_ I thought maybe he might want some." + +"I doubt if I'll take any figs to-night, either," laughed Varney. "But +mayn't I get something for you, Miss Carstairs? I'm happy to say that +the chocolate is holding out better than we feared." + +"Thank you," she said, apparently addressing the child, "I don't believe +I wish anything." + +Jenny here produced and handed around a small, rather dangerous-looking +paper-bag, which proved, upon investigation, to contain marshmallows. +Miss Carstairs declined. Varney, to show how unimpeachable he considered +his standing with the party, gratefully accepted. + +"I'm afraid," he said, looking at Miss Carstairs, "that Mr. Hare's +admirers are likely to detain him some time. If you don't care to wait +so long, perhaps you would again give me the pleasure of supplanting him +and taking you home--you and Miss--Miss Jenny?" + +"No, thank you--I am sure he will be out soon ... You look awfully +trampled on and--mashed, Jenny," she continued, twitching the child's +hat on straight. "And _my dear! Don't_ eat so fast." + +Despite himself, Varney felt his blood rising a little. "Miss +Carstairs," he said slowly, "I must tell you that I came with Miss Jenny +on purpose to see you. There is something that I wanted to say." + +She raised her eyes then, and though their look was very young and +embarrassed, he felt himself lose something of his composure under it. + +"You wanted to say something--to me?" + +"A good deal. I have an explanation to make--" + +"I'm afraid that I have not time to--listen--Mr. Hare--" + +"You must listen--to be fair," he said slowly. "I have to blame myself +for it, but you are doing me an injustice at this moment. I am not--that +man." + +She made no answer. Beside them, Miss Jenny ate ice-cream succulently. +All around them were people jostling this way and that, laughing, +shouting: but they might have been alone on a mountain-top for all +either was aware of them. + +"Since I have been in Hunston--just a day," Varney said easily, "I seem +to have done nothing but explain over and over that I am not Mr. +Stanhope. I got awfully tired of it, Miss Carstairs; it seemed so +horribly useless. Like the others, you insisted that I was he. You +candidly didn't believe me--" + +"No," she said, "that is true." + +"I shall make you believe me now," said Varney. + +A great hullabaloo suddenly arose around them. Four or five men broke +pellmell, and for the most part backwards, out of the swing-doors, +evidently ejected from within. A lonely-looking policeman, on guard at +the entrance, charged them. The lobby was already thronged; now people +retreating before that violent infusion of arms and legs crowded them +close. + +Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the +press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall +upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her, +turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room. + +"Ah!... A haven, Miss Carstairs." + +She stepped backward, into the tiny box-office where Ryan had stood two +hours before and cynically waited for his sport to begin. It was empty +now, offering a perfect refuge. Varney followed and stood with his hand +on the knob just inside the door. + +"Thank you," said Miss Carstairs, breathing a little rapidly. "The +meetings have never been as bad as this before. But--I must not lose +sight of Jenny." + +"I'm here, Miss Mary," gurgled an ice-creamy voice at the door. + +"I think I had better wait outside after all," said Mary. "Mr. Hare will +hardly know where to look for me." + +"Miss Jenny will be his clew: he couldn't miss her," said Varney. "Let +me go on, while I have time. Miss Carstairs, it is not fair to either of +us to let matters stay like this. In the cottage last night, you forced +me to let you think I was--another man--" + +"That is absurd," she said. "How could I possibly force you to say what +was not--the fact?" + +"Did I really say anything that was not--the fact? I tried particularly +not to. But I did let you deceive yourself about it: that is quite true +and I'm sorry. I did it because--well, because if I hadn't done it, you +were not going to let me walk home with you." + +She leaned against the little desk at which the Academy man sat to sell +tickets, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly. "Then why," she asked, +"should you wish to _undeceive_ me now?" + +"You know why," he answered. "If I don't, something tells me that you +are not going to speak to me any more." + +Her silence conceded the truth of this. It began to be evident how +difficult he had made matters for himself. + +Varney laughed. "I am determined to make you believe me, yet just how am +I to go about it? It's rather an absurd position, when you come to think +of it--this arguing with somebody as to who one is. Suppose I were that +fellow, Miss Carstairs. How could I possibly hope to come back to my old +hometown and persuade people to believe that I am somebody else?" + +Her eyes had wandered out through the little grated window, and she made +no reply. + +"You see how preposterous that would be. A mere resemblance is not +enough to condemn a man upon, Miss Carstairs." + +She turned her head with a sudden gesture of annoyance. "What difference +can it possibly make whether I speak to you or not, Mr. St--" + +"_Don't!_" he interrupted swiftly. "You know my name. You shall not call +me by that one." + +Hare's neat pink face appeared at the ticket-window, for all the world +like a belated theatre-goer, anxious for several in the orchestra. + +"Ah, Mary! There you are! Whenever you are ready--" + +"I have been waiting for you a long time," said Miss Carstairs. "It was +so splendid, Mr. Hare! Is Jenny there? We'll go at once." + +She turned to Varney, cool as a dewy rose, and came forward a short +step. "I--I must say this before I go: has no one told you that you are +in danger here?" + +Under her tone and her look, his plan of being the easy master of the +situation grew increasingly difficult. "Everybody has told me," he said +rather shortly. "It's gotten to be a bore." + +"Then--won't you--won't you please go away before--anything happens?" + +"I am going on Thursday afternoon," he answered, stung by her beauty, +which was so remote, and by the sudden compassion in her voice. "My +engagements will keep me here till that day, you remember? I promise +you, since you are so good as to interest yourself in the matter, that I +shall leave Hunston directly after that--" + +"Your engagements on Thursday?" she repeated, looking away. "Are--you +speaking of--" + +"The luncheon on my yacht. We are inviting Mr. Hare and his sister to +meet you." + +"I am sorry," began Miss Carstairs, not looking at him, "but--I--I find +that I shall n--" + +"Er--Mary?" said the candidate's voice through the window. + +She turned toward the door at once, as though welcoming a summons which +so opportunely relieved her from embarrassing explanations: but Varney, +who happened to have duties to her father to discharge, stood before +her, not moving. + +"Just now in the theatre," he said pleasantly, "you cut me. That was for +him. I understood. But is there any valid reason why you should not stay +on speaking terms with--Laurence Varney?" + +To his surprise, a vivid red swept up her face from throat to hair and +her eyes fluttered and fell. + +"Please," she said, "don't ask me to discuss this any more." + +Varney stood aside, bowing, to let her pass out. + +"I shall bring you proofs of my identity to-morrow, since that seems +necessary," he said with a laugh. "You won't refuse to see me, if you +care anything about being fair. But shall I tell you something, Miss +Carstairs? In your heart _you believe me now_!" + +At the outer door, Varney all but collided with a man listlessly +entering, and, glancing up, saw that it was the pale young editor, +Coligny Smith. + +"I hope you enjoyed the meeting," flung out Varney in passing. + +"Why, greetings--greetings!" said Mr. Smith, a mocking smile on his thin +lips. "I've just been out to buy your picture, Beany." + +With which singular rejoinder, he slipped by into the lobby. + + * * * * * + +J. Pinkney Hare lingered some time in the theatre after Miss Carstairs +joined him, enveloped in a heartening whirl of new popularity. To the +candidate it seemed that his star had changed with stunning swiftness. +His advance to the door had been a Roman progress; and when he finally +reached the lobby he was still the focus of a coterie of enthusiasts who +would not be shaken off. Here a new halt was made: new people surrounded +him; more hand-shakings and back-slappings took place; and everything +seemed merry as a marriage-bell. + +But Peter, coming out of the hall a moment after Varney had left, saw +hovering about this intimate circle an elderly man of a faded exterior +and shabby clothes, who wore a black felt hat pulled down over +wary-looking eyes. Even at that moment of splendid triumph, Peter was +annoyed to recognize in him the man Higginson, of whose too friendly +interest in the candidate's doings he had complained to Varney a few +hours earlier. Whether he was, in truth, the man who had followed them +on the street the night before, he was not ready to make affidavit. But +undoubtedly there was something furtive in the man's appearance and +manner; and Peter, watching him from the door, was highly irritated to +see Hare present the fellow to Miss Carstairs, who smiled on him as upon +one of her friend's good friends. + +"The sneak!" thought Peter. "I'll just drop him a quiet hint to butt out +before he gets hurt." + +But his "head-usher" due to vanish back to New York by the +ten-forty-five claimed him just then for a business talk, and when Peter +had time to think of Mr. Higginson again, he found that the man had +disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +THE EDITOR OF THE GAZETTE PLAYS A CARD FROM HIS SLEEVE + +Varney slept badly. The night was long, like art and the lanes that have +no turning; and interludes punctuated it, now and again, when he lay +wide-eyed in his bunk, staring into the darkness. At these times without +exception, he thought how, early in the morning, he would climb the hill +to the white house, blandly proffering letters to show that he was no +cad, no cur, but Laurence Varney, whom ladies need not flee from as from +the plague; suavely putting Uncle Elbert's daughter so utterly in the +wrong that he himself would grow merciful towards her abashment, and +sorry. + +He fell asleep, woke again, rehearsed once more what he would say to +her. At last he saw the dawn break along the horizon and the gray of a +new day meet and mingle with the receding darkness. It was Wednesday. +To-morrow would be Thursday, and he could go away, his business done. +The prospect was rich recompense for everything. It came to him, +suddenly and for the first time, that he hated his mission in Hunston +with a disheartening and sickening hatred. And formulating this thought, +polishing it to aphorism and sharpening it to epigram, he slumbered and +slept for the last time that night. + +But on the heels of the morning came Peter, bursting in half-dressed, a +newspaper flaunting in his hand, an unfastened suspender flapping behind +him like a pennant on a clubhouse. + +"Oh, you're awake, are you?" said he, looking very keen and wide-awake +himself. "Good! You'd hardly want to be dead to the world while this +kind of thing is going on." + +Varney, on an elbow, sleepily surprised at this vehemence, said: "What's +up?" + +"The jig!" cried Peter succinctly. "At least it looks that way. It's +that rascal Smith." + +He sat down on the edge of Varney's bunk, the folded newspaper in his +hand, and continued: "I ran out before I was dressed to look at this +contemptible _Gazette_, because I wanted to see how they handled the +meeting last night. But the minute I picked it up, I saw this, +and--well, by George! Look at it!" + +He whipped open the _Gazette_ with a movement which all but shredded it +and thrust it into Varney's hand. Varney sat up in bed and smoothed it +out upon the coverlet. + +Coligny Smith was clever and his eye ranged wide. He saw all the chances +that there were, and what he saw he made the most of. For his front-page +"picture feature" that morning, he had selected a two-column half-tone +of a good-looking, though not altogether pleasant-faced young man; and +beneath it had indited in bold capitals which the most casual eye could +not miss: "Mr. Ferris Stanhope, Author and Former Hunstonian, Who Has +Just Arrived in Town." + +"I see," said Varney, slowly. "Meaning me." Beside the portrait ran a +"story," which said in part: + + "It leaked out yesterday that the 'mysterious stranger' + who suddenly appeared off Hunston in an elegant + private yacht on Monday night, is none other than Ferris + Stanhope, well-known author of novels of the pink-tea + type.... + + "Mr. Stanhope is a native of Hunston, and is well + remembered here. As the result of certain escapades + which need not be detailed in a home paper like the + _Gazette_, he left town, somewhat hurriedly, one night + twelve years ago. Until Monday he has never been back + since. The news of his arrival has not been received + with general expressions of pleasure. Predictions were + freely made about the streets yesterday that if certain + old and respected citizens of Hunston should chance to + meet the author, trouble is sure to arise. + + "Why Mr. Stanhope should have elected to come back + to Hunston has not yet been ascertained. Some say that + it is the result of a bet, friends having wagered that he + would not venture to return for a month's stay here. + These declare that he is using the yacht as base of operations + to reconnoiter and determine whether it is safe to + land. Color is lent to this theory by the pains which the + distinguished author is taking to conceal his identity. + The name of the yacht has been carefully erased, and he + is using, it is said, an assumed name. + + "The secret of Mr. Stanhope's identity came out too + late last night for the _Gazette_ to obtain an interview. + With him on the yacht is a 'Mr. Maginnis,' representing + himself as a wealthy New Yorker and a 'student of + government.' Both gentlemen, it is said, are claimed as + allies by Hunston's new 'Reform party.'" + +Peter broke out the moment Varney laid down the paper, but Varney, +staring absently out of the porthole, did not listen. This, then, was +the meaning of the pale young editor's enigmatical remark last night. +Here was no idle malice. Diabolically resourceful and without shame, +young Mr. Smith had circulated this lie to discredit reform and drive +off its new champion. And this was the way that he, Varney, had kept the +coming of the _Cypriani_ quiet in Hunston! + +"And think of the cursed bull luck of it!" cried Peter. "The most the +rascal hoped to do was to ruin my plans for helping Hare by these dirty +hints about both of us--at the best to scare us away from Hunston. He +never dreamed that he was knocking the bottom out of any private plans +of _yours_!" + +Varney stretched and yawned. "Well, he isn't." + +"Doubtless I am a stupid ass and all that," said Peter, staring, "but +with the _Gazette_ publishing it about the countryside that you are a +yellow dog of the worst nature, I don't grasp how you expect Miss +Carstairs to come on this yacht and lunch with you." + +A knock sounded on the stateroom door, and McTosh entered, announcing +two telegrams for Mr. Varney. + +Varney, wondering a little who had known his whereabouts, took the +yellow envelopes, nodded to the steward not to wait, broke them open, +read the typewritten words within, read them again. + +Then he looked up and found Peter gazing at him more or less +expectantly. + +Varney laughed. "Do you remember that night at the club my saying to +you, as a great inducement: 'Suppose the New York papers get on to +this'?" + +Peter nodded. + +Varney handed him the yellow slips; then he arose and pushed the service +button. + +"McTosh," he said, "send to town at once and get me copies of the _Sun_, +the _Times_, the _Daily_ and the _Herald_--all the New York papers. No, +go yourself, and don't stay longer than is absolutely necessary." + +Peter, meantime, with a heart beating as it had not beat the night +before when he had overthrown Ryan and stolen his meeting, was reading +the following: + + _Daily_ story has got us all guessing. If it's really + you, what the devil are you up to, anyway? + R. E. TOWNES. + +The other was in a similar vein: + + Alarming story in _Daily_ to-day. Absolute secrecy a + prerequisite as explained. Reporters tried to reach me + to-night. Trust you fully, but implore you to proceed + with utmost caution. + ELBERT CARSTAIRS. + +"The plot thickens," said Peter when Varney turned back, "till I, for +one, can't see the drift. However--you've sent for the _Daily_?" + +Varney nodded. "I told him to get three or four others, too, for a +blind." + +"Politics," said Peter, in his calmest fighting manner, "is all off. I'm +not the least interested in it. We'll give the morning to studying +yellow journalism. But about Miss Carstairs. How can you possibly--" + +"By heaven," said Varney, with a sudden burst of anger, "I'll make her +know who I am, if I have to drag in her own mother to introduce me." + +He went off to his bath, dressed hurriedly, dawdled a moment at the +breakfast-table, where he found Peter discussing a cereal not without a +certain solemn pleasure, and went above grappling with the thought that +all this would mean a postponement of his call at the Carstairs house, +and maybe something more serious still. The morning was sunny and crisp. +He walked to the bow, briskly, by way of a constitutional, turned and +started down again. As he did this, his eye fell upon a strange figure +which had at first escaped him. Toward the stern of the _Cypriani_, near +the wheel, a little runt of a boy hung over the rail, and made the air +noxious with the relicts of a low-born cigar. He was an aged, cynical +boy, with a phlegmatic mien and a face of the complexion and general +appearance of a hickory-nut. + +A little surprised by the sudden apparition, Varney came down the deck +and dropped into a chair near him. + +"Well, my lad! I'm happy to see you and your cigar again. But to what do +we owe the pleasure of this call from you two old friends?" + +The boy turned his back to the rail and faced him impassively. In the +brilliant sunshine, he looked singularly worn and wise. + +"I brung dem wires," he said courageously plying the cigar. "Any +answer?" + +"I'll see, after a while," said Varney, hastily lighting a pipe as +counter-irritant. "So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" + +"Nawser. Odjobbin' I do. Anythink as comes handy. They don't deliver no +wires down here. I handles 'em sometimes for wut dere is in it." + +"Oh! Well, I won't fail to see that there is something in it for you +this time. And do you make much money odd-jobbing?" + +"I git along awright. Summertimes I do. Wintertimes there ain't no +odjobbin' much." + +"How old are you, my boy?" + +"Twelve year old." + +"Twelve! I thought you were sixteen, at least." + +A faint look of gratification crossed the boy's face, but he only said +stoically: "Twelve year's my age." + +"What do you do in the wintertime when there isn't much odd-jobbing? How +do you get along then?" + +"I git along awright. Sometimes I git help. Off a lady here, a frien' o' +mine." + +"What lady? What's her name?" + +"Name o' Miss Mary. Miss Carstair, some calls her. I git money and clo's +off her. I'd 'a' had some bum winters, hadn't ben for her." + +There was a pause, and then Varney said: "What's your name, my boy?" + +Again the boy hesitated. "Tommy," he said presently. + +"Tommy what?" + +"Tommy--Orrick." + +Varney started. Of all the sordid Hunston of the natives, that was the +one name which meant anything to him. It was rather a curious +coincidence. + +"Then I suppose old Sam Orrick," he said kindly, "is your father's +father." + +"Nawser," he answered slowly. And he added presently, "He wuz me +mudder's father." + +After that, the silence lengthened. Varney looked off down the river. +Tommy Orrick, whose father was named something else, clapped his hand +suddenly to his lip, because his cigar just then scorched it unbearably. + +"What is your father's name, Tommy?" asked Varney, in a low voice. + +His back toward Varney, his fragment of a cigar poised, reluctantly +ready to drop, the boy shook his head. "I don't rightly know," he said +in his husky little voice. + +But Varney knew that name: and he said it now slowly over to himself in +a dull and futile anger. + +From the shore a boat put out hurriedly and the faithful steward came +flying over the water with meritorious speed. With him he was bringing +the papers that might settle the _Cypriani's_ mission, but Varney, for +the moment, hardly gave him a thought. His own affairs were blotted from +his mind just then by the tragedy of the little waif before him, +luckless victim of another's sin, small flotsam which barely weathered +the winters when odd-jobbing was scarce, and only one lady cared. + +"Where do you live, Tommy?" + +"Kerrigan's loft mostly--w'en Kerrigan ain't dere." + +"This morning," said Varney rapidly, "I'm just as busy as a bee. But +this afternoon, or to-morrow morning anyway, I want to come down to +Kerrigan's and call on you." + +"Wut about?" the boy demanded with an instant suspiciousness which was +rather pathetic. + +"About you, Tommy. I have got a little plan in my head, and there isn't +any time to talk about it now. What would you say to having a home with +some nice people I know in another city--in New York?" + +A sudden dumbness seized Tommy. His head slowly lowered and he did not +answer. Around the deck-house from the port-side hurried McTosh, his arm +embracing a bundle of papers, his brow beady with the honest toil of +speed wrung out of country paths. + +"Ah, steward! You made good time. Ask Mr. Maginnis if he won't come on +deck when he is at leisure. Thomas, you're for the shore, aren't you? +Forward, there!" + +He got up and stood by the side of grave little Tommy Orrick, who was +staring silently down at the white deck. + +"Down in New York, Tommy, I know a nice woman who has a home and no boys +at all to put in it. A long time ago she used to be the nurse of a boy I +knew, but he grew up; and now her husband's dead and she's all alone. +And here in Hunston is a boy with no home to put himself in. That's you, +Tommy, and I--but here's your boat. I'll come to see you to-morrow at +Kerrigan's--sure, and we'll talk it all over. Good-bye. And remember +that you and I are just the best friends going." + +He held out his hand, to shake, but Tommy, in an excess of stage-fright +at the unwonted ceremonial, nimbly turned his back; and the next instant +he slipped over the rail like an acrobat and dropped into the waiting +dinghy. Safely there, he glanced tentatively upward; but seeing that the +tall man above was still standing at the rail and was smiling down upon +him, looked tactfully away again. And Varney heard him say to the +oarsman in a snappy, impatient voice: "Pull for all you know, dere! I +got bizness dat won't keep." + +Varney sat down with the bundle of papers. Within the minute, Peter +appeared, replete but characteristically alert. + +"Read it yet?" + +"No, but I've found it. It wasn't hard." + +He handed Peter the paper, his thumb crooked to indicate the place, +which was superfluous; for near the middle of the front page, top of +column and in the strong type of captions, the words leaped out to +Peter's eye as though hand-illumined in many colors: + + FERRIS STANHOPE OR LAURENCE VARNEY + + Mystery Surrounding Young Man On Yacht Near Hunston. + + He Says He's Varney--Natives say He's Stanhope + and Trouble Feared--Yacht is Elbert Carstairs's, with + Her Name Painted Out--Mr. Varney's Movements + Unknown to Friends Here. + +Peter read the story aloud in a guarded undertone. In general, it +closely followed the story in the _Gazette_; so closely indeed as to +show at a glance that both productions came from one brain and pen. But +toward the end, the new story took a different turn. It said: + +"The above is a sample of the gossip which is agitating this usually +quiet little town. Late to-night there are two distinct factions. One +holds that the young 'stranger' is Ferris Stanhope, reconnoitring under +an _alias_. The other contends that he is really Laurence Varney, or +somebody else, up here on some secret mission. Unless the stranger +leaves town before, the facts will doubtless be brought out to-morrow. +The gossips promise that a sensation of no mean order is forthcoming." + +Below this, some one in the _Daily_ office had added: + +"A certain air of mystery surrounds Laurence Varney's recent movements. +At his bachelor apartments, in the Arvonia, it was learned last night +that Mr. Varney was out of the city, but the man-servant there had no +idea of his master's whereabouts. From other sources, however, it was +learned that Mr. Varney left New York several days ago on the +_Cypriani_, a handsome steam yacht belonging to Elbert Carstairs of No. +00 Fifth Avenue. An attempt was made to reach Mr. Carstairs at his home, +but the hour was late, and he could not be interviewed. A telegram sent +to Ferris Stanhope's last known address, Camp Skagway in the +Adirondacks, was unanswered up to the hour of going to press." + +Peter let the paper drop upon his knees, and whistled father +shamefacedly. Here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed, and it was all of +his brewing. If he had kept his fingers out of the affairs of Hunston, +as both his enemy and his friend had warned him to do, the unscrupulous +editor would have had no interest in attacking him, over his captain's +shoulders, and this damaging story would never have been concocted and +spread broadcast as a feast for gossips. He had been brought to Hunston +to help Varney--and here was the front-page result. + +If a similar thought flashed across Varney's mind in this disturbing +moment, he instantly forgot it for others more practical. He sat curled +up in a folding deck-chair, swiftly weighing what this new issue might +mean, and a moment of rather heavy silence ensued. + +The cat was all but out of the bag: this fatal hint at "some secret +mission" made that plain. A little carelessness, some more shrewd +probing into his affairs, and the jig would be up, indeed. This was the +one way that their enemies in Hunston could interfere with +him--insisting on knowing why he had come there; and Coligny Smith had +had the bull luck, as Peter put it, to stumble on it. + +Thus it fell out that he, Varney, who had needed to seek the dark and +unobtrusive ways, found himself thrust suddenly into the full glare of +the calcium. He who was guarding an errand which nobody should know +about was now to be asked by everybody who read newspapers just what +that errand was. + +It was so absurd that all at once he laughed aloud. However, it was +becoming quite serious, and he saw that, too. + +"Damn him!" broke out Peter, compactly, and he added presently: "Think +of his throwing a bomb in the air like that, and smoking out poor old +Carstairs!" + +Varney looked up, knocked out his pipe against his heel, and restored it +thoughtfully to his pocket. "Yes. Did you notice the difference between +those two stories? He doesn't want Hunston even to suspect that I may be +myself. His game here is to _know_ I'm Stanhope, whom the whole town is +sore on. In New York, he tries both stories, not knowing which will hurt +the most. However, theories will keep. The facts are plain. They've +started out to run us down--that's all. The point is now to decide what +we are going to do about it." + +He stood up, tall and cool, his jaw shut tightly, his brow puckered into +a long frown, thinking rapidly. + +"As I see it," he said slowly, "it works about like this. Probably the +_Gazette_ is the local news bureau for this town. At any rate, it is +evident that somebody on it is the correspondent of the _Daily_. The +_Gazette_, we know, wants to run you out of town in order to have a free +hand in slaughtering Hare. Last night they supposed that my looking like +Stanhope was the best card they had. This morning they will guess that +there may be a still better one lying around somewhere. The _Daily_ +tells them that I'm Varney, and, what is much more interesting, that I'm +using Elbert Carstairs's yacht. Mrs. Elbert Carstairs lives in Hunston. +Putting two and two together, and adding the painted-out name and a dash +of seeming furtiveness on my part, you have all the materials for a +nice, yellow mystery. I haven't the slightest doubt that when that +telegraph editor in New York gets down to his office about one o'clock +to-day, the very first thing he does, after hanging his coat on the +nail, is to wire his correspondent to begin operating on me." + +Peter nailed the alternative. "If he doesn't, the _Gazette_ will attend +to the job, anyway." + +"Yes, the press is on our trail, in any case. The fact that this is the +Carstairs yacht will mean more to the _Gazette_ than it could to the +_Daily_. It will be a kind of connecting link for them. Of course, +they'll jump at it like wildfire. If they can make anything at all out +of it, they'll play it up to-morrow so that nobody in this town can +possibly miss seeing it." + +"Pray heaven," said Peter, referring to Mary Carstairs, "that she won't +see the _Daily_ this morning!" + +"Yes. Her father's name would naturally start her to thinking, which +would make things awkward." + +"Larry, the _Gazette_ is going to print his name to-morrow morning as +sure as Smith is a lying sneak." + +"We've still got to-day, haven't we? By Jove, it's nearly eleven +already. A reporter may be down on us at almost any minute. We can't +stand being cross-examined. No searchlight of journalism playing about +on the _Cypriani_ just now, thank you. My own idea is--" + +"To grab him, to batter the face off him--" + +"No, to elude him. Not to be here. In short, to run away." + +"_What?_ You can't mean that you are going to let that dog drive you +back to New York?" + +"Well, hardly. But I do mean to make him think he has! I mean to run +down the river a few miles and anchor where they can't find us, simply +to get out of the way. Then we'll run back to-morrow in time for the +luncheon. What do you think of that?" + +Peter, his forehead rumpled like a corduroy road, stared at him fixedly +and thought it over. "I think it's the best thing in sight," he said +judicially. "An exceedingly neat little idea." + +"If we're being watched, it may persuade them that we've gone. Anyway, +it will give us time to decide what next," said Varney. And he hurried +off to confer with the sailing-master. + +Presently the engine-room bell rang out a signal. Orders were given and +repeated above and below. Men began moving about swiftly. The noise of +coal scraped hurriedly out of bunkers smote the air. The _Cypriani's_ +hold throbbed with sudden life. + +Varney, running hastily through the two newspaper stories again to make +sure that they had missed nothing that might be important to them, was +presently joined by Peter, who was looking at his watch every third +minute and swearing softly every time he looked. Something had been +discovered amiss with the machinery, it seemed. The captain was sure he +would have the plaguy thing all right in another half-hour, but you +never could tell. For his part he'd swear that a yacht was worse than +an old-style motor car: you could absolutely count on her to be out of +order at any moment when you positively had to have her. + +To be delayed until somebody appeared to challenge their going was to +lose half the battle. Varney went off to the sailing-master and spoke +with him again, concisely. The sailing-master, a sensitive man to +criticism, once more apologized, very technically, and redoubled his +energies. He went below himself to superintend the repairs and to prod +the laggards to their utmost endeavors. In less than three quarters of +an hour, by Peter's watch, he was up again, in a shower of falling +perspiration, to announce that all was ready. + +However, valuable moments had been lost. It was now nearly half-past +twelve, or, in Peter's indignant summary, "just an hour and a half too +late." + +Varney glanced toward the bridge. + +"All ready there?" he called. + +"All ready, sir," said the sailing-master, and sprang for the indicator. + +"Hold on," said Peter suddenly. "We're getting visitors. There's some +one signaling us from the shore." + +Varney's heart bounded. He turned with an exclamation; but in the next +breath, he ordered: "Let her go, Ferguson." + +Upon the shore, at the spot where the _Cypriani's_ boat ordinarily +landed, stood a tallish, stocky young man, looking at them cheerfully +and swabbing his brow with a large blue handkerchief. Catching Varney's +eye, he waved his hand with the handkerchief in it, and said, for the +second time: + +"Hello, aboard the _Cypriani!_" + +Varney stepped to the rail, a faint smile on his lip. "Hello, there! +What can we do for you?" + +"Hot as merry hell, isn't it?" said the young man pleasantly. "Send a +boat over for me, will you? I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the New +York _Daily_, and I want to come aboard for a little talk." + +"Never in this world!" breathed Peter, _sotto voce_. + +Varney smiled, grimly. "Sorry, Mr. Hammerton. You're just too late. We +are starting away from Hunston this very minute." + +The _Cypriani_ shuddered like a live thing and slid slowly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +WHICH SHOWS THE HERO A FUGITIVE + +Four miles downstream, the river's banks grew a long mile apart, and the +scenery was lonesome and a little wild. Here, as it chanced, there was +flung across the water a thin, rocky island, well-wooded and of a +respectable length. It lay nearest the western shore; and not a hamlet +or even a house, it seemed, commanded it from either side. + +They recognized it from afar as ideal anchorage for a yacht which wanted +to be let alone. So they slowed down into the island's curving shore and +dropped anchor in the lee of it, out of sight of the Hunston side of the +river and in little evidence from any point in midstream above or below. + +Securely hidden from the probing eye of the press, they were now in +something of a quandary as to what their next step should be. The hour +set for the luncheon, upon which their mission hung, was only +twenty-four hours away: and they had no idea whether the guest of honor +intended to come or stay away. Varney was torn between the necessity of +keeping clear of reporters, and the even more pressing necessity of +calling upon Mary Carstairs. If to go to town was a risk, not to go to +town was a much greater one. + +They finally decided that Peter should go to Hunston first, at once and +alone. He would walk in, lest the use of the _Cypriani_ boat should +betray them; and there take charge of the situation and see what could +be done. + +"You sit tight," Peter urged, "and give me a chance at it first. The +_Gazette_ has got nothing on me, you know; they can camp on my +shirt-tail till they get good and tired. Meantime, I'll spread it around +that you've gone away and that I'm hanging on a day or two longer to +help Hare. You only came on a pleasure trip, and all these sensational +lies spoiled your pleasure: so you pulled out. That's plausible and +reasonably true, you see. Then I'm going to find that fellow Hammerton +and try to bluff him off." + +"How?" + +"I'd much like to give him money, but it's never safe to try that with +reporters. Oh, I'll hobnob with the fellow, hand him cigars, jolly him +along about the neat way they got revenge on us for the meeting, and +sort of take it for granted that the incident ended when they chased you +away from town. If he seems dubious and acts as if he meant to work on +the 'secret mission' idea just the same, I'll go in and call on Coligny +Smith. Oh, I'm not going to hit him. If I hadn't known that would be the +worst possible tactics, I'd have gone uptown at nine o'clock this +morning and yanked him out of bed by his long, lying ears. I'm only +going to talk to him in a kindly way. He told us himself that he was out +for the hard money, you know." + +"All right," said Varney. + +Peter hesitated. "You've _got_ to go in, I suppose? It's hard luck. Here +we are working overtime to build up the popular idea that you've quit +and gone back to New York. It'll be deuced awkward if that reporter nabs +you the minute you set foot in Hunston." + +"I've got to risk it. I'll wait a while, though, and give them a chance +to drop the trail. And when I do go in, I'm not going with a brass +band." + +"There's not the least hurry," said Peter. "You've got all the rest of +the day--to-morrow morning, too, for that matter. Wait here till you +hear from me, will you? Maybe I can turn up something which will save +you from having to go in at all." + +Varney grinned. "Remember yesterday, Peter?--when you were coming back +at ten o'clock and came at four? No more unlimited contracts from me. It +is twenty minutes past one now. You can get in by two thirty if you +hustle. I must start in by half-past four. It wouldn't be safe to wait +any longer." + +"Give me a show, will you? Make it five, anyway." + +"Five, then. If you're not back on the dot, in I start for my call. Till +we meet again." + +Peter started down the stair, hesitated, turned and came back again. +"Larry," he said, with sudden gruffness, "of course, we 've both been +thinking that if it hadn't been for me, none of this mess would have +happened. I kick myself when I think--" + +"Drop it, Peter. Nobody in the world could have foreseen--" + +"Every ass in the United States," said Maginnis, his ponderous foot on +the ladder, "could have foreseen it but me. I just want you to know that +politics is absolutely sidetracked now. Before I'll let this deal of +ours fall through, I'll see Hare licked till they can't scrape him +together afterward with a fine-tooth comb." + +It was deadly quiet on the yacht after Peter left. At two o'clock Varney +went down to a solitary luncheon. At quarter past, followed by the +reproachful gaze of McTosh, he came out again. In the pit of his stomach +reposed a great emptiness, but it was not hunger. He felt restless, +high-strung, all made of nerves. He wanted to do something of a violent, +physical sort, the more grueling the better; and his task was to loll in +an easy-chair under a pretty awning and inspect the landscape. + +The port side of the _Cypriani_ was jammed as close into the island as +the science of navigation made possible. Varney went over to the other +side and sat down to wait. In front of him, a hundred yards away, the +western bank rose abruptly from the water's edge, reaching here and +there to loftiness. There were woods upon it, thick and silent, which +looked as if the defiling hand of man had never entered there. At his +back was the still, empty little island; at either side stretched the +deserted river. + +He thought it as lonely a spot as could have been found in a day's +journey, but a moment later he discovered his mistake. It was suddenly +borne in upon him that the tall, thin object which nestled so closely +among the trees a mile to the south that it was scarcely distinguishable +from them, was in reality the spire of some church; and he knew that he +was much closer to his kind than he had thought. + +And then, in time, he noticed other things. Before a great while, he saw +a boat with one person in it--a woman he thought--put out from the shore +at about where the village must be and start across to the other bank. +And later, as the afternoon wore on, he caught sight of a canoe, a few +hundred yards upstream, rocking idly down with the current. An +elderly-looking man sat in it, with a short brown beard and sun-goggles +showing under his soft hat--for the water burned under a brilliant +sky--stolidly fishing and reading a book. He looked like a rusticating +college professor--of Greek, say--and this theory seemed to be supported +by his obvious ignorance as to how to keep a canoe on the popular side +of the water. + +And later still a row-boat came swinging briskly up the quiet channel +where the yacht lay and passed her at fifty yards. A man and a woman sat +in it, presumably bound for Hunston, and they stared at the hidden, +detected _Cypriani_ with a degree of frank interest which suggested that +they would not fail to mention the strange sight to every acquaintance +they met in town. + +"That's the beauty about a yacht," thought Varney, annoyed. "You might +as well try to hide an elephant in a hall room." + +But his mind soon strayed from the pair of bumpkins and went off to +other and more pressing matters. He had now, not one great difficulty to +meet and overcome, but two. One of them was to make Uncle Elbert's +daughter keep her engagement with him. The other was to prevent the +_Gazette_ from linking the name of the _Cypriani_ with the name of +Carstairs to-morrow morning. About the first of these he allowed himself +no doubts. If the worst came to the worst, he would turn to Mrs. +Carstairs. Brutal it might be to compel the mother to introduce the +kidnapper to his quarry, her daughter; but that was no fault of his. He +would do his duty by Mrs. Carstairs's husband, no matter who got hurt. +Miss Carstairs should come to the _Cypriani_ to-morrow as she had +promised. In heaven or earth, on land or sea, there was no power which +should keep him from having his will there. + +But then there was the _Gazette_. Smith, the clever, would doubt that +the _Cypriani_ had really gone back to New York. Suppose, since he could +not find her, he would venture a few shrewd guesses in his paper +to-morrow morning connecting that "secret mission" the _Daily_ had +mentioned with Mrs. Elbert Carstairs. Miss Carstairs would see what the +_Gazette_ said; and what questions would she have to ask him before she +would come as his guest to the yacht?... + +A ripple of water fell across the young man's thought, and he glanced +up. The college professor, whom the current had washed much nearer now, +fancying, it appeared, that he had got a bite, had suddenly thrown +himself far over the edge of his canoe, stretching his rod to the +farthest reach. The slender birch-bark tipped so violently that even he +noticed it; and the next instant, he sprang back again, rocking at a +great rate. + +"Simpleton!" thought Varney. "He will go over in a minute...." + +Now her face rose before him as he had seen it first last night at +Stanhope's cottage, radiant as a dream come true--looking at him and +saying: "I'd like it very much if you could just trust _me!_" And he saw +her again when she had looked at him, eye to eye over the many heads +before the theatre, with only blank unrecognition in her glance, or had +there been, after all, a sort of latent sorrowfulness there? And then he +saw her once more, as she stood in the little box-office, her cheeks +suddenly stained red, when she begged him, please, not to ask her to +discuss it any more.... + +A sudden sharp thought came to him, putting all his imaginings to +flight, a thought so vital and so obvious that it was incredible that it +had not once crossed his mind before. If the _Gazette_ doubted that he +had returned to New York, if it was still on his trail and still wanted +to embarrass him, _it would send a man straight to Mrs. Carstairs_. + +How could he possibly have overlooked that? With the secret of the +_Cypriani's_ ownership out, of course that would be the first thing +Smith would think of: to ask Mrs. Carstairs what had brought her +husband's yacht to Hunston. And when the reporter went, who could say +what damaging admission he might surprise out of the poor lady, or at +the least what inklings to hang diabolical guesses upon? Worst of all, +he might see Miss Carstairs herself--awaken no one knew what suspicions +in her already perplexed mind. + +He sprang up and glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes past four. +Every minute had become precious now, and waiting for Peter was of +course not to be thought of. While he loitered ineffectually here, +Coligny Smith, four miles away, might be doing his plans the +irremediable injury. And he started for the cabin swiftly to get his +hat. + +But there came an interruption which stopped him short. A quick loud +splashing and sudden cries arose from the water near at hand; and he +divined instantly what had happened. The college professor, like the ass +he was, had upset his canoe. + +Varney halted, strode back to the rail. The professor came up +spluttering, blowing quarts of water from his mouth and nose, making +feeble strokes with his ineffective, collegiate arms. + +"Help!" he called in a thin watery voice. "Help! I can't swim." Whereon, +he immediately bobbed under again. + +Of course, there was nothing to do but accede to that request. + +"Lay hold of the canoe," called Varney impatiently, when the poor fellow +reappeared. "I'll send a boat down for you." + +There had been no chance of his drowning: for the overturned canoe was +staunch, and floated, a splendid life-belt, not a foot away from him. At +Varney's word, he seized hold of it feebly, with both hands. The crew +were quick. One or two of them had been watching the madman's antics for +some time, it appeared; and they had a boat down and over to him in no +time. + +Sopping with water, dripping it from his clothes and his hair and his +brown academic beard, a dazed and pitiable-looking object, he came up +the ladder not without nimbleness, and stepped through the gangway upon +the deck. + +Varney took it that his own duties in the matter were now at an end. +"Hold your places," he called to the boat crew. "I shall need you myself +at once." + +Then he turned hurriedly to the man he had rescued, who stood silently +on the deck, wringing cups of water from the skirts of his black cutaway +coat. + +"I'll have them bring you dry clothes," he said swiftly, "and anything +else you need. You'll excuse me? I am compelled to--" + +But at that he stopped dead; for the brown beard of the college +professor suddenly loosened and fell upon the deck. The professor, not +at all discomposed by the extraordinary accident, kicked it carelessly +to one side, and pitching his large hat and goggles after it, faced +Varney with a jovial smile. + +"You don't happen to have a thimble-full of redeye about, do you, Mr. +Varney?" he asked chattily. "I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the +_Daily_, you know, and that river down there is _wet_." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +A YELLOW JOURNALIST SECURES A SCOOP BUT FAILS TO GET AWAY WITH IT + +Garbed in a suit of Varney's clothes, warmed beneath his belt by a +libation from the _Cypriani's_ choicest stock, eased as to his person by +a pillow beneath his head and a comfortable rest for his feet, Charlie +Hammerton threw back his head and laughed. + +"I'm not crazy about those grand-stand plays as a rule," he said. +"Because in the first place they're yellow, and in the second place +they're a darned lot of bother. But I just _had_ to see you--I guess you +know why--and I couldn't think of anything else that struck me as really +sure. How'd I do it? Fair imitashe, hey? And I only told one lie, which +is pretty good for a proposition of this sort. I _can_ swim, Mr. Varney. +Like a blooming duck." + +Varney laughed. "You're half an hour too late in telling me that, you +know! But tell me how you managed all this: it was so clever! And do try +one of these cigars." + +They sat at ease on the awninged after-deck, a wicker table between them +convivial with decanters and their recognized appurtenances, like two +old friends met for a happy reunion. The _Gazette's_ star reporter was +as different from one's conception of a dangerous adversary as it is +possible for a man to be. He seemed only a pleasant-faced, friendly boy +of twenty-three or four, with an honest eye and a singularly infectious +laugh. + +"Don't mind if I do--thanks!" said Hammerton, to the proffer of cigars. +"Well, it wasn't so very hard. After you steamed off, and left me gazing +nervously out to sea like a deserted fisher's wife, I--" + +"No, you don't!" laughed Varney. "Begin way back at the beginning. I'm +as ignorant as a baby about all this, you know." + +Hammerton rather liked the idea of lolling on a luxurious yacht and +explaining to the outwitted owner just how he had done it. + +"Well," he said, "it's like this. When you fellows jumped in and +kidnapped Ryan and banged the administration in the eye and slapped the +_Gazette_ some stinging ones on the wrist, of course, we couldn't just +sit still and go quietly on with our knitting. Nay, nay! So we played up +that gossip about you as strong as we could, sort of guessing that it +might hurt your feelings a little. I'm going to be frank with you, you +see! And then another idea came to us that wasn't half bad. You said you +were Mr. Laurence Varney of New York. Well, whether that was true or +not--begging your pardon, of course!--that gave it a New York interest, +don't you see? So Mr. Smith, more by way of a feeler than anything else, +wired it off to the _Daily_--" + +"Why," interrupted Varney, "I thought you were the correspondent of the +_Daily_?" + +"So I am. But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing +it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he +called me in and showed me the _Daily_. You've seen it, I suppose? Of +course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and +particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery +idea. Smith said: 'There appears to be more in this than meets the eye, +Charles. Hustle you down to the _Cypriani_, or ever the birds be flown.' +So I hustled. But then I did a fool thing that nearly gummed the game +entirely. Just at the edge of the woods, I met a boy coming up the hill. + +"Maybe you remember that kid, Mr. Varney--the telegraph boy? He was just +on his way back from the yacht when I ran into him." + +"Come to think of it, I believe I did see that boy hanging around here." + +"As hard a little nut," said Hammerton, "as you ever saw in your life. +When he saw me, he stopped short and asked where I was going. I told him +to the yacht. ''T ain't no use,' he said--I won't try to give his +lingo--'they've gone.' And the little devil actually went on to tell me +how he had overheard the two gentlemen talking--guys he called you--and +how you had decided to return to New York at once, and how he had looked +back from the shore and seen the yacht already steaming away." + +Thus Varney learned that he had one friend in Hunston who was true to +him, according to his poor little lights; and he felt that that kindly +lie of Tommy Orrick's, if it was ever set down against him anywhere, +must be the kind that is blotted out again in tears. + +"Why, I've been good to that kid," said Hammerton, "giving him +cigar-ends nearly every time I see him and that sort of thing. I never +thought he had so much pure _malice_ in him. Well, like a fool, I turned +right around and went back. I felt so pleased about it--for of course +that was just what the _Gazette_ wanted--that I dropped in at the +Ottoman for an eye-opener, and by Jove! it was nearly an hour before I +got back to the office." + +He laughed, at first ruefully, then merrily--for had not everything +turned out in the most satisfactory way in the world? + +"Smith's a beaut," he said, shaking his head reminiscently. "I don't +believe anything ever got away from him since he was big enough to sit +in front of a desk. When I told him that you fellows had gone back to +New York, he never batted an eye. He just pulled a telescope out of the +bottom drawer of his desk and went up to the roof. In two minutes he was +down again. 'Charles,' he said in that quiet biting way of his, 'God may +have put bigger fools than you into this world, but in his great mercy +he has not sent them to retard the work of the _Gazette_. The yacht lies +precisely where she has lain for these two days. Will it be quite +convenient for you to drop down there and have a talk, or do you design +to wait until the gentlemen call at your desk and beg the privilege of +telling you all?'" + +He laughed again, this time without a trace of resentment; and so merry +and spontaneous was this laugh that Varney could not help joining in. + +"I suppose old Smith can tell you to go-to-hell more politely, yet more +thoroughly, than any man that ever lived. I _ran_--and I was just in +time at that, hey? Well, when you fellows steamed off, I kind of +suspected that you weren't going very far. So I got a boy and had him +trail you down the old River road on a wheel. By the time he got back +and told me that I had sized it up about right, I had my plans arranged +and my make-up all ready. That make-up was rather neat, I thought, what? +Meantime, a long wire had come in from the _Daily_ office, which made me +keener than ever to see you. So I hired another wheel, ran on down, +borrowed a canoe from a man I know here, and I guess you know the rest." + +"I should say I did," said Varney. "Ha, ha! I should rather say I did." + +One reason why it was so advantageous to make the boy talk was that it +gave one a chance to think. All the time that he had listened so +pleasantly to this garrulous chatter, Varney had been swiftly planning. +Now he had the situation pretty well analyzed and saw all the ways that +there were. + +He might send the reporter away convinced that there was nothing in this +new theory, after all, that the _Gazette's_ trump card in fighting +Maginnis and Reform was still his own unhappy resemblance to the +outlawed author. Or he might send him off with enough of a new theory to +make him think it unnecessary to go to Mrs. Carstairs or her +daughter--the fatal possibility. Or, if both of these proved +impracticable as they almost certainly would, there was only one course +left: he would not let Hammerton go away at all. + +"But have another little drop or two, won't you? Those dips with your +clothes on aren't a bit good for the health." + +"Well, just a little tickler," said Charlie Hammerton. But he permitted +himself to be helped quite liberally, with no protesting "when." "My +regards, Mr. Varney! Also my compliments and thanks for accepting the +situation like such a genuine game one." + +Varney nodded. "The fortunes of war, Mr. Hammerton. But do go on. You +have no idea how interesting the newspaper game is to an outsider, +particularly--ha, ha!--when it walks right across his own quiet career. +As I understand it, you're on the regular staff of the _Gazette_, and +then are a special correspondent of the _Daily_, besides?" + +Hammerton, cocksure of his game and pleasantly cheered by the potent +draught, thought that he had never interviewed so agreeable a man. + +"That's it exactly. Then, besides, we run a little news-bureau at the +_Gazette_, you know--sell special stuff, whenever there's anything +doing, to papers all over the country. The bureau didn't touch this +story last night--why, I thought it was too 'it-is-understood' and +'rumor-has-it' and all that, to go even with the _Daily_--in your old +own town. It'll be different to-night, all right. We'll query our whole +string on it now--unless," he added with frank despondency, "the darned +old Associated Press decides to pinch it." + +"Query them, Mr. Hammerton?" + +"Yes, wire them a brief, kind of piquant outline of the story, you know, +and ask them if they don't want it. And I sort of guess they'll all want +it, all right!" + +"We'll see about that in a minute," laughed Varney. "There's lots of +time. Tell me about that brilliant young editor of yours, Mr. Smith. The +men in the office all like him and sympathize with his policies, I +suppose?" + +Hammerton laughed, doubtfully. "Well, they all look up to him and +respect him as one of the cleverest newspaper men in the country. +Personally, I like old Smith fine, though nobody ever gets close to him +a bit. He's mighty good to me--lets me write little editorials two or +three times a week, and says I'm not so awful at it. As for sympathizing +with his policies--well, you know I'm not sure Smith sympathizes with +'em much himself. I have a kind of private hunch that he's gotten sore +on his job and would sell out if somebody--well, suppose we say our +friend Ryan--would offer him his price. No, I'm not so keen for these +indirect methods, Mr. Varney. At the same time, it's part of the game, I +suppose, and I always believe in playing a game right out to the end, +for everything there is in it." + +At the unmistakable significance in his tone, Varney looked up and found +the reporter's eyes fixed upon him in an odd gaze which made him look +all at once ten years older and infinitely difficult to baffle: a gaze +which made it plain, in fact, that the wearer of it was not to be put +off with anything short of the whole truth. The next second that look +broke into an easy laugh, and Hammerton was a chattering boy again. + +But Varney's mood rose instantly to meet the antagonism of the +reporter's look, and hung there. He pulled a silver case from his +pocket, selected a cigarette with care and lit it with deliberation. He +had learned everything that he wanted to know; the conversation was +beginning to grow tiresome; and he found the boy's careless +self-confidence increasingly exasperating. + +"But as for undercutting Hare," laughed Hammerton, "I don't like it a--" + +"Tell me this," Varney interrupted coolly. "When the _Gazette_ prepared +its story about me last night, did it believe for one moment that I was +this man Stanhope?" + +"Why, I'm not the _Gazette_, of course," said Hammerton, a little taken +aback by the cool change of both topic and manner, "but my private +suspicion is that it entertained a few doubts on the subject. What do we +think now? Look here, Mr. Varney," the boy said amiably, "you've been +white about this business, and I do really want to show that I +appreciate it." + +He fumbled in the side-pocket of his wet coat, which hung on a near-by +chair, produced a damp paper of the familiar yellow, smoothed it out and +handed it across the table. + +"I guess I won't keep any secrets from you, Mr. Varney." + +Varney, taking the telegram with a nod, read the following: + + _Gazette_, HUNSTON: + + Varney-Stanhope story good stuff, but lacking details, + vague and inaccurate. Stanhope located in Adirondacks, + though not reached. See _Daily_ to-day. Man on yacht + Varney. Apparent secrecy surrounding departure from + here. Interview him sure and secure full statement as + to business which brought him to Hunston. Also interview + Mrs. Elbert Carstairs in Hunston. She separated + from husband years ago. His yacht there with name + erased suggests mystery. Rush fullest details day-rate if + necessary. Pictures made. Expect complete story and + interviews early to-night sure. + S. P. STOKES. + +"Now," said Charlie Hammerton, when Varney looked up, "you see why I +went to such a lot of trouble to get hold of you." + +"Yes," said Varney, slowly, his eye upon him, "I see." + +He folded the telegram, laid it at Hammerton's elbow, got up and stood +with his hands on the back of his chair, looking down. At the thought +that he had ever hoped to call the reporter off, to stop this deadly +machinery of journalism, once it had been started, he could have +laughed. The _Daily_ telegram showed how impossible that had always +been. Now it was suddenly and overwhelmingly plain that to force a +fight on Hammerton, which had been his favorite purpose from the +beginning, even to seize and lock him up, would be of no avail whatever. +Other reporters in endless procession, waited behind him, ready to step +into his place; and the pitiless machinery, in which he, Varney, +happened to be caught at the moment, would go steadily grinding on till +it had crushed out the heart of the hidden truth. + +He saw no way out at all. His mind revolved at fever heat, while he said +calmly: "Go back to your employers, Mr. Hammerton, and report that you +have no story to sell them. Say further that since they knowingly +printed a lying slander about me this morning, you, as an honorable man, +insist upon their making full retractions and apologies to-morrow." + +Hammerton, who had taken his interview as a foregone conclusion, looked +momentarily astounded; but on top of that his manner changed again, to +meet Varney's changed one, in the wink of an eye. + +"You can't mean," he said briskly, ignoring Varney's last remark +entirely, "that you decline to make a statement for our readers?" + +"Why should I encourage your readers to stick their infernal noses into +my business?" + +"For your own sake, Mr. Varney--because everybody has started asking +questions. To refuse to answer them, from your point of view, is the +worst thing you could do. As you know, newspapers always have other +sources of information, and also ways of making intelligent guesses. +While these guesses are usually surprisingly accurate, it sometimes +happens that we work out a theory that is a whole lot worse than the +truth." + +"Of course," said Varney, with sudden absentness. "That's the way you +sell your dirty papers, is n't it?" + +"Mr. Varney, why did you come--?" began Hammerton, but stopped short, +perceiving that the other no longer listened, and quite content to leave +him to a little reflection. + +For Varney, struck by a thought so new that it was overwhelming, had +unexpectedly turned away. He leaned upon the rail and looked out over +the blue, sunny water. A brilliant plan had flashed into his mind--a big +daring plan which, far more than anything else he had thought of, might +be effective and final. Instead of making an enemy of Hammerton, which +could accomplish nothing, it would turn him into a champion, which meant +victory. + +It was a desperate solution, but it was a solution. + +After all, what else remained? To dismiss the boy with nothing would be +to send him straight to the Carstairs house with no one knew what +results. To manhandle him would be simply to start another sleuth on the +trail. But this plan, if it worked, would avoid that, and every other, +risk of trouble. And if it failed, he would be no worse off than he was +now; for in that case he would not allow Hammerton to go back to the +_Gazette_ at all that day. + +He dropped his cigarette over the side, turned and found the eye of the +press firmly fastened upon him. + +"Mr. Varney," said Hammerton, with swift acuteness, "maybe I'm not as +bad a fellow as you think. Why can't you trust me with this story--of +what brought you to Hunston, and what made you run away this morning and +hide? If it's really something that newspapers haven't got anything to +do with, I'll go straight back to the office and make them leave you +alone. Oh, I have enough influence to do it, all right! And if it's +something different and--well, a little unusual, I'll promise to put you +in the best light possible. Why don't you trust me with it?" + +"Well," said Varney with a stormy smile, "suppose I do, then!" + +"Good!" cried Hammerton cordially, observing him, however, with some +intentness. "Honestly, it's the very best thing you could do." + +Varney rested upon the back of his chair again and stood staring down at +the reporter for some time in silence. + +"Mr. Hammerton," he began presently, "I know that the great majority of +newspaper men are fair and honorable and absolutely trustworthy. I know +that it is a part of their capital to be able to keep a secret as well +as to print one. For this reason, I have upon reflection decided to +confide--certain facts to you, feeling sure that they will never go any +further--" + +"Of course, Mr. Varney," the reporter interrupted, "you understand that +I can't make any promises in advance." + +"Let the risk be mine," said Varney. "I am certain that when you have +heard what I have to tell you, you will report to your papers that my +'mysterious errand' turns out to be simply a matter of personal and +private business, with which the public has no concern, and whose +publication at this time would hopelessly ruin it. Mr. Hammerton, I came +to Hunston to see Miss Mary Carstairs." + +A gleam came into Hammerton's eye. Varney, watching that observant +feature, knew that no detail of his story, or of his manner in telling +it, would escape a most critical scrutiny. + +"The fewer particulars the better," he said grimly. "I shall tell the +substance because that seems now, after all, the best way to protect the +interests of those concerned. Mr. Hammerton, as the _Daily_ told you, +Mr. Carstairs and his wife have separated, though they are still on +friendly terms with each other. Their only child remains with the +mother. Mr. Carstairs is getting old. He is naturally an affectionate +man, and he is very lonely. In short, he has become most anxious to have +his daughter spend part of her time with him. Mrs. Carstairs entirely +approves of this. The daughter, however, absolutely refuses to leave her +mother, feeling, it appears, that nothing is due her father from her. +Arguments are useless. Well, what is to be done? Mr. Carstairs, because +his great need of his daughter grows upon him, conceives an unusual +plan. He will send an ambassador to Hunston--unaccredited, of course, a +man, young, not married, who--don't think me a coxcomb--but who might +be able to arouse the daughter's interest. This ambassador is to go on +Mr. Carstairs's own yacht, the name, of course, being erased, so that +the daughter may not recognize it. He is to meet the young lady, +cultivate her, make friends with her--all without letting her dream that +he comes from her father, for that would ruin everything. And, then--" + +He broke off, paused, considered. In Hammerton's eye he saw a light +which meant sympathy, kindly consideration, human interest. He knew that +the battle was half won. He had only to say: "And then talk to her about +her poor old father, who loves her, and who is growing old in a big +house all by himself; and tell her how he needs her so sorely that old +grudges ought to be forgotten; and ask her, in the name of common +kindness, to come down and pay him a visit before it is too late." He +had only to say that, and he knew, for he read it in Hammerton's whole +softened expression, that the boy would go away with his lips locked. + +But he couldn't say that, the reason being that it was not true. + +"And then," he said, with a truthfulness so bold that he was sure the +reporter would not follow it, "and then--don't you see? he is to try to +_make_ her go down to New York and pay a visit to that lonely old father +who needs her so badly. Since she is so obstinate about it, he must find +some way to _make_ her go before it is too late. _Now_ do you +understand, Mr. Hammerton? _Now_ do you perceive why the thought of +having all this pitiful story scareheaded in a penny paper is +insufferable to me?" + +He towered above Hammerton, crisp words falling like leaden bullets, +stern, insistent, determined to be believed. But he saw a look dawn on +the younger man's face which made him instantly fear that he had told +too much. + +And then suddenly Hammerton sprang to his feet, keen eyes shot with +light, ruddy cheek paled a little with excitement, fronting Varney in +startled triumph over the drinks they had shared. + +"Make her!" he blurted in a high shrill voice. "Mr. Varney, _you came up +here to kidnap her!_" + +The two men stared at each other in a moment of horrified silence. +Something in the reporter's air of victory, in the kind of thrilling joy +with which he pounced upon the carefully guarded little secret and +dragged it out into the light, made him all at once loathsome in +Varney's eyes, a creature unspeakably repellent. + +Suddenly he leaned across the little table and struck Hammerton lightly +across the mouth with the back of his hand. + +"You cad," he said whitely. + +But Hammerton, never to be stopped by details now, ignored both the +insult and the blow. He was on the rail like a cat, ready to swim for +it, hot to take his great scoop to Mrs. Carstairs, to Coligny Smith, to +readers of newspapers all over the land. + +The table was between them, and it went over with a crash. Quick as he +was, Varney was barely in time. His hand fell upon the reporter's coat +when another fraction of a second would have been too late. Then he +flung backward with a wrench, and Hammerton came toppling heavily to the +deck. + +Smarting with the pain of the fall, hot with anger at last, the +reporter was up in an instant, spitting blood, and they clenched with +the swiftness of lightning. Then they broke away, violently, and went at +it in grim earnest. + +It was the fight of a lifetime for each of them and they were splendidly +matched. Hammerton was two inches the shorter, but he had twenty pounds +of solid weight to offset that; and in close work, especially, his +execution was polished. They had it up and down the deck, hammer and +tongs, swinging, landing, rushing, sidestepping. At the first crash of +broken glass on the deck, the crew had begun to appear, unobtrusively +from all directions. Now cabin-hatch, galley-hatch, deck-house, every +coign of vantage along the battlefield held its silent cluster of +wondering figures. But McTosh, familiar old family retainer, slipped +nearer at the first opportunity and whispered, in just that eager tone +with which he pressed a side-dish upon one's notice: + +"Can't I give you a little help, sir?" + +"Keep away, steward," said Varney, between clenched teeth, "or you'll +get hurt." + +Saying which, he received a savage blow on the point of the chin and +struck the deck with a thud. + +"Oh, my Gawd, sir!" breathed McTosh. + +But his young master was on his feet like a tiger, in a whirl of crazy +passion. He had resolved all along that Hammerton would have to kill him +before he should get away with that secret. Now it came to him like a +divine revelation that the way to avoid this was to kill Hammerton. To +that pleasant end, he goaded his adversary with a light blow, +side-stepped his rush, uppercutted and the reporter went down, almost +head first, and cruelly hard. + +He came up dazed, game but very wild, and Varney got another chance +promptly, which was just as well. Hammerton went down again, head on +once more, and this time he did not come up at all. + +The crew, unable to repress themselves, let out a cheer, and came +crowding on the deck. But Varney, standing over Hammerton's limp body, +waved them back impatiently. + +"Hold your noise!" he ordered. "And stand back! I'm attending to this +job!" + +He picked Hammerton up in his arms, staggered with him to his own +stateroom, and laid him down on the bunk. The boy did not stir, gave no +visible sign of life. But when Varney put his hand over the other's +heart, he found it beating away quite firmly. His breathing and pulse +were regular--everything was quite as it should be. He would come round +in half an hour, and be as good a man as ever. And he would have a long, +idle time to rest, and look after his bruises and get back his strength +again. + +Varney took the key from the door, put it in outside, turned it and came +on deck again. The crew had vanished to their several haunts. Two +deck-hands in blouses and red caps had just completed the rehabilitation +of the deck, and at sight of him discreetly vanished forward. + +"Ferguson," called Varney, "a word with you, please." + +The grizzled sailing-master came quickly, obviously curious for an +explanation of these strange matters. + +Rapidly Varney explained to him that the incarcerated man was a reporter +who thought that he had got hold of a scandalous story about Mr. +Carstairs, and was most anxious to get ashore so that he could publish +this scandal all over the country. + +"I am obliged to go to town immediately," he continued. "Rumors of this +ugly story have already been started, and I must do everything I can to +nail them. I am going to trust the responsibility here to you. As soon +as I leave the yacht, I want you to start her down the river. That is to +get the gentleman and the yacht out of the way. Go straight ahead for +two or three hours and then come back. Make your calculations so that +you'll get back here at--say ten o'clock to-night--here, mind you, not +the old anchorage. I'll be ready to come aboard by that time. Have two +men guard that stateroom constantly every minute. Give the gentleman +every possible attention, but don't let him make any noise, and don't +let him get out. No matter what he says or does, _don't let him get +out_. Do you follow me?" + +"I do, sir. To the menootest detail." + +"If you carry the matter through, you may rely upon Mr. Carstairs's +gratitude. If, on the other hand, you fail--" + +"Oh, I'll not fail, sir. Have no fear of that." + +"I am speaking to you man to man, Ferguson, when I say, for God's sake +don't." + +He walked away to arrange himself a little for the town, seeing clearly +that there was but one possible way out of all this for him now. The +sailing-master stared after him with a very curious expression upon his +weather-beaten face. + +At about the same moment, in a tiny room four miles away, an elderly, +melancholy man sat bowed over a telegraph board and drowsily plied his +keys. He was the _Gazette's_ special operator, and, having his orders +from Mr. Parker, who looked after the news bureau when Hammerton was +away, he was methodically going through his list like this: + +_Tribune_, PITTSBURG: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery surrounding +prominent men, one of whom now hiding here. Probable scandal, one +thousand words. + +_Press_, CINCINNATI: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery-- + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +VARNEY MEETS HIS ENEMY AND IS DISARMED + +Varney crossed the square in the gathering dusk and went slowly up Main +Street, looking about him as he walked. He had wrenched his ankle +slightly in one of his falls upon the _Cypriani's_ deck, and the +four-mile walk over the ruts of the River road to the town had done it +no good. Worse yet, it had made the trip down from the yacht laboriously +slow, and he was harried with the fear that the irreparable damage might +already have been done. + +If it had not, if no reporter had yet gone to the Carstairs house, his +one possible hope of escape stood before him like a palm-tree in a +plain. Stiffened and strengthened by all his difficulties, his resolve +to win throbbed and mounted within him; but he faced the knowledge that +the odds now were heavily against him. On the long chance, he had played +a desperate game, had come within an ace of winning, and had lost. His +great secret which, beyond any other purpose, he had meant to guard to +the end, was glaringly out. Now it was the iron heart of his will that +it should go no further. Talkative young Hammerton had given him the +hint how that might be accomplished; and if the method was extreme, it +would be sure. Whatever the cost, it would be a small price to pay for +keeping his name, and Uncle Elbert's, out of ruinous headlines in +to-morrow's papers. + +Two blocks further on he came opposite a neat, three-story brick +building, across the width of which was a black and gold signboard, +lettered THE GAZETTE. Below it was the large plate-glass window of a +counting-room, now dark. On the left was a lighted doorway, leading +upstairs. + +Varney crossed, climbed the stairs, found himself in a narrow upstairs +hall, rapped upon a closed ground-glass door bearing the legend +"Editorial." From within, a voice of unenthusiasm bade him enter, and he +went in, closing the door behind him. + +In a swivel-chair by an open roller-top desk, a young man sat, idly +smoking a cigarette, his back to the door, his languorous feet hung out +of the window. There were electric lights in the room, but they were not +lit. All the illumination that there was came from a single dingy +gas-fixture stuck in the wall near the desk, but that was enough. + +Varney came closer. "Smith," said he. + +"Well," said Smith. + +"I have come to see you." + +"Well--look away," said Smith. + +There was not a trace of the "Hast thou found me?" in the editor's voice +or his manner. If he expected assassination, he did not appear to mind. +He sat on without turning, staring apathetically out of the window, just +as he had done when he watched Varney cross and come in at his door. + +"I have come," said Varney, "because I understand that you are the sole +owner, as well as the editor, of this paper. Am I right?" + +Smith lit a fresh cigarette, flipped the old one out of the window and +paused to watch the boys outside fight for it. Half-smoked stubs came +frequently out of that window when Mr. Smith sat there and many boys in +Hunston knew it. + +"Assuming that you are?" queried he. + +"Assuming that," said Varney, "I'll say that I have come to buy this +paper. And to discharge you from the editorship." + +Smith drew in his feet, and swung slowly around. The two men measured +each other in an interval of intelligent silence. On the whole, upon +this close view, Varney found it harder to think of Smith as a +contemptible cur who circulated lying slanders for profit than as the +young man who wrote the famous editorials. + +"And still they come," said Smith, enigmatically. "Three of them in one +day--well, well!" And he added musingly: "So I have stung you as hard as +that, have I?" + +"Let us say rather," said Varney, whose present tack was diplomacy, +"that I have some loose money which I want to stow away in a paying +little enterprise." + +"I am the last man in the world to boast of a kindness," continued +Smith, in his faintly mocking manner, "but I gave you fair warning to +leave town." + +"Instead I stayed. And an exceedingly interesting town I have found it. +Something doing every minute. But, as I just remarked, I have looked in +to buy your paper." + +"If I were like some I know," meditated Smith, "I'd be thinking: 'The +Lord has delivered him into my hand, aye, delivered dear old Beany.' I'd +embarrass you with questions, make you blush with catechisms. But I am a +merciful man, and observe that I ask you nothing. You want to buy the +_Gazette_ for an investment. Let it stand at that. So you're the +money-grubbing sort that supposes that everything on God's hassock has +its price?" + +"I believe it's street knowledge that the _Gazette_ has its. But I +called really not so much to discuss ethics, as to ascertain your +figure." + +Smith gave a sigh which was not without its trace of mockery. +"'Fortunately, I am hardened to insults. Editors are expected to stand +anything. Times are dull--nothing much to do--drop around and kick the +editor. You've no idea what we have to put up with from spring poets +alone. Rejoice, B----, that is, Mr.--er--Blank, that the _Gazette_ is +never to be yours." + +"You can't mean that you decline to sell?" + +"When I implied to you just now that I was sole owner of the _Gazette_, +I was, of course, speaking rather reminiscently than in the strict light +of present facts." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"That I sold the _Gazette_ at four o'clock this afternoon." + +For an instant the room whirled and Varney saw nothing in it but the odd +eyes of Coligny Smith steadily fixing him. By the shock of that blow, he +realized that, after all, he had wholly counted upon succeeding in +this. From the moment when he had turned his stateroom key on +unconscious Charlie Hammerton, he had recognized it as his one chance. +And now he was too late. Clever Ryan, who missed nothing, doubtless +suspecting that the faithless editor who had sold out once to him might +now be planning to do it again to a higher bidder, had outstripped him. +And the _Gazette_ to-morrow would damn him utterly. + +But Varney's face, as these thoughts came to him, wore a faint, +non-committal smile. "That is final, I suppose?" + +"As death, so far as I am concerned. I leave Hunston permanently +to-morrow morning." + +"Who was the buyer?" + +"There is really no reason why I should divulge his confidence that I +know of; but, curses on me, I'll do it if you'll tell me this: Where is +Charles Hammerton?" + +Varney laid his hat and stick on the table, to rid his hands of them, +and faced Mr. Smith, leaning lightly against it. + +"I came here, Smith, to ask questions, not to answer them. On second +thoughts, I withdraw my last one, for I can guess the answer. But before +we proceed further, I want you to tell me this: what made you sell?" + +The editor pitched another cigarette-end out of the window. Again a +shout from the street indicated that it had become a bone of bitter +contest among the town's smokers of the _sub-rosa_ class. + +"Suppose I were to tell you," said Smith slowly, "that I anticipate a +shakeup here which will cut the backbone out of my profits? What would +you say to that?" + +"I suppose I should say that it was ever the custom of rats to desert a +sinking ship. So that was your mainspring, was it?" + +"On the contrary," said Smith. "I am taking what is technically known as +a small rise out of you. You ask why I sold. It was a man with the +price. Money," began Mr. Smith, "screams. The cash on my desk was this +man's way of doing business, and a good deal it was. However, it'll net +him six per cent year in and out, at that--a good rate in these lean +times. I, of course, did better. I got--shall we say?--pickings. The +past tense already, heigho! Well, it's been a most instructive life. My +father taught me to write. He was esteemed a good editor, and he was, +but at eighteen I was correcting his leaders for him. Hand Greeley a +soft pencil and a pass at the encyclopedia, so he used to say, and he +could prove anything under the sun. I am like that, except that--well, I +don't believe I need the encyclopedia. It wasn't Greeley who made the +remark, of course. It's a rule on the press to pin all journalistic +anecdotes on Greeley. You sign the pledge when you go in. To be +accounted strictly moral," continued Smith, "an editor must be blind in +one eye and astigmatic in the other. Then he rings the bull's-eye of +Virtue ten times out of ten, and the clergy bleats with delight. You +can't find spiritual candor anywhere with a telescope, except in the +criminal classes. There are no Pharisees there, God be praised! For my +part, I see both sides of every question that was ever asked, and +usually--don't you think?--both of them are right. I first adopt my +point of view and subsequently prove it. Obviously, this is where the +pickings come in. My grandfather started this paper on two hundred and +fifty dollars, fifty dollars of which, I have heard, was his own. I +could knock off for life as an idle member of the predatory classes, I +suppose, but after all, I was made for an editor. In years past, I have, +of course, had my offers from New York. Two of them were left open +forever, and a little while ago, I telegraphed down and took the best. A +grateful wire came in five minutes ahead of you. And that," he concluded +wearily, in the flattest tones of a curiously flat voice, "is the life +story of C. Smith, editor, up to the hour of going to press." + +Varney, who had never once been tempted to interrupt this strange +apologia, struggled with an impulse to feel desperately sorry for Mr. +Smith, and almost overcame it. + +"Smith," he said, in a moment, "why don't you tell me why you sold?" + +The editor got up and stared out of the window. Presently he turned, an +odd faint flush tingeing his ordinarily colorless cheek. His air of +smooth cynicism was gone, for once; and Varney saw then, as he had +somehow suspected before, that the editor of the _Gazette_ wore polished +bravado as a cloak and that underneath it he carried a rather troubled +soul. + +"You are right," said Smith, "I--was twigging you again. Let us say," +he added, looking at Varney with a kind of shamefaced defiance, "that a +man gets tired of living on pickings after a while." + +If he had been ten times a liar, ten times a slanderer and assassin of +character, a man would have known that the young editor spoke the truth +then. That knowledge disarmed Varney. To have sold the _Gazette_ to one +who would prostitute it still further was hardly a noble act; but for +Smith it meant unmistakably that he wanted to cut loose from the old +evil walks where he had done ill by his honor and battened exceedingly. + +"All along," said Varney slowly, "I have had a kind of sneaking feeling +that there was a spark left in you yet." + +He picked up his hat and stick again, and faced the pale young editor. + +"Smith, you have done me a devilish wrong. You have knowingly printed a +vile slander about me, aware that the natural result of your falsehood +was that some poor drunken fool would shoot me down from behind. When I +walked in here five minutes ago, I had two purposes in mind. One was to +buy your paper. The other was to throw you down the front stairs. I am +leaving now without doing either. I abandoned the first because I had +to; I abandon the second, voluntarily, because--I don't quite know +why--but I think it is because it seems inappropriate to hit a man when +he is down and something is just driving him to try to scramble up." + +He put on his hat and started to go; but Smith stopped him with a +gesture. He let his eye, from which all sign of emotion had faded, run +slowly over Varney's slender figure. + +"I wasn't such a slouch in my younger days," he said. "Football at my +prep school, football and crew at my college. Boxed some at odd moments; +was counted fair to middling. Some offhand practice since with people +I've roasted--agents, actors, and the like. As to that throwing +downstairs proposition now, if you'd care to try it on--" + +Varney shook his head. "I don't know that I can explain it--and no one +regrets it more than I--but all the wish to _smash_ you, Smith, has gone +away somewhere. The bottom has dropped out of it. Good-bye." + +"You are going? So am I," said Smith, with a fair imitation of his usual +lightness. "Going away for good. I hope you will come through this all +right. I'll never see you again. Shake hands, will you? You couldn't +know it, of course, but--it--is possible that I owe something to--you +two fellows." + +He stood motionless, half turned away, thin hands hanging loosely at his +sides. + +Varney, who had colored slightly, took a last look at him. "No," he +said, suddenly much embarrassed, "I--I'm afraid I couldn't do it in the +way you mean, and so there wouldn't be any point in it. But I--I do wish +you luck with all my heart." + +He shut the door, and started down the stairway; and he straightway +forgot Smith in the returning tide of his own difficulties. He saw +clearly that there was no longer any hope; his plans were wrecked past +mending. Persuading Miss Carstairs to keep her engagement to-morrow, his +one great problem this morning, had become an unimportant detail now. +Charlie Hammerton, with his merciless knowledge, filled the whole +horizon like a menacing mirage. + +It would not be enough to close the boy's month till after the luncheon +and then let it open to babble. For Elbert Carstairs had flatly drawn +the line at a yellow aftermath of sensation. He would count a tall-typed +scandal the day after to-morrow, when his daughter was with him, fully +as bad as the same affliction now. And, the newspaper finally lost to +them, there was no conceivable way in which that scandal could be +averted now. + +But about the moment when his foot hit the bottom of the worn stairs, +the door at the head of them burst open, and a curiously stirred voice, +which he had some difficulty in recognizing as Smith's, called his name. + +"Varney! oh, Varney! I--really meant to tell you--and then I forgot." + +He turned and saw the editor's pale face hanging over the banisters. + +"It was Maginnis I sold the _Gazette_ to, you know--Peter Maginnis. I +wouldn't have sold it to anybody else. You'll find him at the hotel +eating supper." + +Varney, looking at him, knew then what it was that Smith thought he owed +to him and Maginnis. + +He went back up the stairs and the two men shook hands in rather an +agitated silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN MR. HACKLEY, THE DOG MAN, AND MR. RYAN, THE BOSS + +At half past six o'clock, or thereabouts, James Hackley dragged slowly +up Main Street. He was garbed in his working suit of denim blue, trimmed +with monkey wrench and chisel, and he wore, further, an air of +exaggerated fatigue. A rounded protuberance upon his cheek indicated +that the exhilaration of the quid was not wanting to his inner man, but +the solace he drew from it appeared pitifully trifling. Now and then he +would pause, rest his person against a lamp-post, or the front of some +emporium, and shake his head despondently, like one most fearful of the +consequences of certain matters. + +Since four o'clock that afternoon, in fact, Mr. Hackley had been out +upon a reluctant stint of lawn-mowing, reluctant because he hated all +work with a Titanic hatred and sedulously cultivated the conviction that +his was a delicate health. In view of the magnificent windfall in +connection with the killing of his dog, it had not been his design to +accept any more retainers for a long time to come. That occurrence had +lifted him, as by the ears, from the proletariat into the capitalistic +leisure class; and the map of the world had become but the portrait of +his oyster. + +But at noon as he lolled upon his rear veranda, chatting kindly with +his wife as she hung the linen of quality upon her drying lines, a lady +had knocked upon his door, beautiful and insistent, to wheedle his will +from him. It was only a tiny bit of a lawn, she had reiterated +imploringly, hardly a constitutional to cut, and there was not one tall +fellow in all Hunston whom she would permit to touch it but Hackley. +Dead to all flattery as he was, his backbone ran to water at the +clinging beauty of her smile, and so incredibly betrayed him into +yielding. And now, at hard upon half after six o'clock, post-meridian, +the dangerous dews of night already beginning to fall, he leaned against +a lamp-post, a physical wreck, with a long block and a half still +separating him from the comforts of home. + +At the next corner but one above rose the red brick Ottoman, its +inviting side stretching for many yards down the street towards him. +Windows cut it here and there along its length, and over their green +silk half-curtains, poured forth a golden light which was hospitality +made visible. Yet, so strange are the ways of life, the proprietor of +all these luxuries, who stood at the furthest window, beyond Hackley's +range, did not look happy in their possession. His eyes gleamed +fiercely; his heavy chin protruded savagely, as though deliberately +insulting Main Street and the northward universe. Even his small derby, +which he seldom doffed save at the hour for taps, contrived to bespeak a +certain ferocity. + +The Ottoman bar was bare of customers, all Hunston now verging towards +its evening meal. Ryan rested his elbow upon its polished surface, and +glared into the twilight. He was, as luck had it, in a terrible +ill-humor. For he knew himself to-day for a man who had been physically +flouted, a boss whose supremacy had been violently assailed, a king who +felt his throne careen sickeningly beneath him. + +Last night, when four men whom he had never seen before, three of them +masked, had borne him off on a long wild drive, and dropped him at ten +o'clock in a lonely bit of country eight miles from the Academy Theatre, +there had at least been action to give point to his choler. All but out +of his mind with passion, he had besought them all, singly or quadruply, +to descend from their carriage and meet him in combat, thirsting sorely +to kill or be killed. But they had only laughed at him, silently, and +galloped away, leaving him screaming out futile curses on the empty +night air. + +Two hours later, when he had got back to Hunston, after an interminable +nightmare of running over rough ground with unaccustomed limbs, and +stumbling heavily to earth, and rising up to struggle again, he had +learned to what uses his enemies had put that absence. Smith had related +the story in the fastness of his office, and in wholly different guise +from that which it wore next morning in the columns of his newspaper. +And Ryan, listening, had slowly calmed, calmed to the still fury of +implacable hate. + +But he and Smith had quarreled violently. He was for publishing the +story of his taking off in type as black as the dastardly act. Smith had +a difficult time in holding him down, however much he pointed out that +Ryan had no shadow of proof against his new adversary on the yacht, and +that public sympathy in an affair of this sort was always with the +successful. In the end Smith had carried his point, because he was, of +those two men, both the more wise and the more resolute. But this +morning they had conferred again and quarreled even more bitterly. + +Yet Ryan, plotting in the window of his splendid gin-palace, his eye +always sweeping the evening street as though a-search, was not thinking +of the young editor now. Two other policies for the days to come +monopolized his attention. One of these was crushing victory at the +polls. The other was revenge. Probably in thinking of these, he put them +at the moment in reverse order. + +"Damn him!" he suddenly exploded: and it was not little Hare that he +cursed. "Damn his soul!" + +In the next breath, the boss suddenly ducked, and disappeared from the +half-curtained window altogether. A moment later, he appeared outside +his swinging door, yawning and stretching himself, as one who, wearied +with the tedium of life indoors, would see what beguilement might await +him abroad. + +The boss looked first up the street and permitted his beady eye to range +casually over the view. Then his gaze came slowly down and rested in +time upon the person of James Hackley, now almost directly opposite. The +boss's countenance lit up with a smile of pleased surprise. + +"Why, hello, Jim!" he called out. "Where you been hidin' yourself +lately? Ain't seen you for a week o' Sundays. Come across and pass the +time of day!" + +Mr. Hackley, who had been debating whether or not he should pause for +inspiration at the Ottoman, and had just virtuously declared for the +negative, shambled over. + +Ryan eyed him sympathetically. "You look kind o' played out, Jim. What +you been doin' with yourself? Come in and take a drop of somethin' to +hearten you up some. On the house." + +"Well," said Mr. Hackley, unable to resist the novel fascination of +liquoring gratis, "just a weeny mite for to cut the dust out o' my +windpipe." + +Ryan went behind the bar and served them himself, selecting with care a +bottle which he described as the primest stuff in the house. From this +he poured Hackley a remarkably stiff potation, slightly wetting the +bottom of his own glass the while. The bottle he left standing ready on +the bar. + +"Here's how, friend Jim!" + +Whatever Mr. Hackley's foibles, he was a man at his cups. His platform +was the straight article uncontaminated by ice or flabby +sparkling-water; and chasers and the like of those he left to +schoolboys. + +"Ain't took a drink for days," he said, holding up his glass to the +electric light and squinting through it. "Cut it out religious, I have. +Been settin' around the house, an' settin', under physic'an's orders, +tryin' fer to get my health back so's I could go to moldin' agin. But +Lordamussy, what's the use of torkin'! I ain't no more fitten fer work +than a noo-born baby. Well, here's luck, Ryan!" + +He set his glass down and involuntarily smacked his lips. The fiery +liquid percolated through him down to his very toes. He felt better at +once, more ambitious, less conscious of his constitution. And +simultaneously, he lost something of that indolent good-nature which was +the badge of all his sober hours. + +Ryan regarded him with friendly anxiety. "You gotter be more careful +with yourself, honest! Here--strengthen your holt a little. One little +swallow ain't no help to a man as beat out as you are." + +"As yer like, Dennis," said Mr. Hackley, listlessly. "What I reely need +is a good long rest, like in a 'orspittle." + +Kindly Mr. Ryan filled the small glass almost to the brim; and Hackley, +though he had modestly stipulated for "on'y a drap" tossed it all off +thirstily at a single practised toss. + +"That'll fix you up nice. But ain't I glad," said his host with a sly +chuckle, "that nobody sees you taking these drinks on the quiet, which +_we_ know you need bad for your health." + +Mr. Hackley set down his glass again, this time with something of a +bang. "How's that?" he demanded suspiciously. + +Ryan laughed deprecatingly. While doing so, he manipulated the tall dark +bottle again. + +"Shuh!" said he. "It's only the boys' fun, of course. Don't you mind +_them_, Jim." + +"What're you drivin' at?" asked Hackley, bristling a bit. "If you got +anything worth sayin' to me, spit it out plain, I say." + +"Well," laughed Ryan, "if some of the boys was to see you in here +putting away a harmless drink or so, o' course they'd say that you was +gettin' up your Dutch courage. He, he!" + +"Dutch courage!" cried Mr. Hackley, indignantly. "An' wot the hell fer?" + +"Sh! Not so loud, Jim. Why, it's only their little joke, o' course. +They'd say you was gettin' up your nerve to meet them two friends of +yours from New York! Hey? He, he!" + +"Wot friends?" asked Hackley again, hotly. + +Ryan observed the mounting color on the other's cheek and brow, and his +eye, which was like a small, glossy shoe-button, gleamed. + +"Why, that 'un that killed that dog o' yours, and put you to sleep +before the crowd, and that 'un that sent Mamie Orrick to Gawd knows +where. But shucks! Drop it, Jim. I wouldn't have allooded to it, on'y I +thought you'd see the fun of the thing." + +It takes a philosopher to perceive humor in taunts at his own personal +courage, and Mr. Hackley, with three drinks of the Ottoman's choicest +beneath his tattered waistcoat, was not that kind of man at all. + +He leaned forward against the bar with a belligerence suggesting that he +wished to push it over, pinning his pleasant-spoken host to the wall, +and pounded the top of it till the glasses tingled. + +"Fill her up with the same!" he ordered loudly, looking suddenly, and +for the first time, very much like the rough-looking customer who had +tackled Peter Maginnis in defense of his dog. "An' I'll have you know, +_Mister_ Ryan--I'll have you know, my fine, big, bouncin' buck, that Jim +Hackley ain't afeared of anythink that walks." + +Ryan filled her up again, though this time more conservatively. He was a +keen man and an excellent judge of what was enough. + +"Shuh! Don't _I_ know that, Jim! Why, after that big bloke licked the +stuffin' out of you the other night, the boys said: 'Well, that's the +last o' that little differculty! Jim Hackley'll never foller that up +none,' they says. And what'd I say?" + +"Well, what'd you say?" + +"I says, 'Hell!' I says. 'You boys don't _know_ Jim Hackley!'" + +"I'll interdooce myself to 'em!" said Hackley savagely. "And whoever +says that Maginnis licked me's a liar. You hear me? Tripped my toe on a +rock, I did, and banged all the sense outen my head--" + +"I understand, Jim," interrupted Ryan suavely. "Just what I told the +boys. O' course, just between you an me, I have been kinder took by +surprise that you've waited so long to get your evens. Why, this morning +when the piece came out in the _Gazette_, tellin' the whole town that +the feller's side-partner was that yellow cur-dog Stanhope, I says to +the boys, first thing: 'Boys, we gotter watch Jim Hackley mighty careful +to-day,' says I. 'I'm afeard there'll be gun-play before sunset.' +'Gun-play!' says they. 'F'om Hackley! Hell,' says they. 'You boys,' says +I, 'don't know old Jim like I do!' And then o' course,--he, he!--as the +whole day slipped by and nothin' doin' at all--why, o' course, I won't +deny that they ain't been jollyin' me some." + +Hackley leaned far over the bar, and shook his fist in the boss's face. +"I ain't a man," he shouted, "to be pushed an' a-nagged at in a deal +like this. I takes my time, I makes my plans, I decides on the ways I'll +do it. Do yer pipe to that? An' now I've got ever'think fixed and I'm +ready. Do yer see!" + +The boss, who had retreated a step before that menacing fist, glanced +out of the window and instantly started, this time with an amazement +that was genuine. + +"Why, blast my eyes," he cried, raising a pudgy arm, "if there ain't +that dog Stanhope now!" + +Hackley, following the pointing finger, peered over the green silk +curtain out into the darkening street. A young man, tall and rather +thin, in a blue suit and wide gray-felt hat, was walking slowly and with +a slight limp up the cross street, evidently heading for the Palace +Hotel. + +The two men watched him intently, in a moment of perfect silence. Then +the boss, who was not without a certain dramatic sense, said slowly: + +"_Mamie Orrick's old friend_!" + +A baleful light leaped into Hackley's eyes. He broke away from the bar +with a movement that was like a wrench, and started for the door. + +"I'll fix him," he muttered dourly. "Fix him _good_." + +But Ryan, who wanted something much better than that, sprang around the +bar like lightning, and caught Hackley roughly by the shoulder, at the +door. + +"What, here in the square!" he hissed sharply. "With the po-lice in +sight a'most! Why, you fool, it'll mean the pen for you as sure as your +name's Jim Hackley!" + +Hackley paused, his resolution unsettled by the other's superior +knowledge of the law. + +"No, no, Jim--it won't do," went on Ryan with bland decisiveness. "What +you want is the two of them together, hey?--on a nice dark stretch o' +road, and old Orrick and a few good fellows along to help. You ain't the +only one that's got it in for Stanhope, are you? An' you want Maginnis +too, I guess? Come on in the orfice and talk about it over a seegar." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +IN WHICH VARNEY DOES NOT PAY A VISIT, BUT RECEIVES ONE + +Coligny Smith had told the truth. Peter Maginnis had bought the +_Gazette_, and the _Cyprianl's_ troubles, from this source at any rate, +were at an end. + +Varney found the new proprietor at the hotel, completing a hurried +supper, and Peter hailed him with astonishment and delight. All +afternoon he had been bursting with his great news, eager to get word of +it to Varney on the yacht. But there had been no trustworthy messenger +to send; his own time had been rilled to overflowing, with contracts, +bills of sale and deeds; and, besides, his certain knowledge that +everything was all right made it seem a minor matter that Varney should +know it too. + +"But what the deuce," he exclaimed at once, "brings you at this hour to +the Palace Hotel and Restaurant?" + +"I, too," quoted Varney, "have not been idle." + +As they walked back to the _Gazette_ building, where Peter had still +various details to attend to, he gave a terse epitome of his afternoon's +experiences. At the news that he, too, had sought to buy the paper which +was so determinedly on their trail, Peter chuckled and started to speak; +but when he learned in the next sentence that Hammerton had their +secret at his mercy, his face grew suddenly grave. + +"The rub is," he summed up meditatively, "he may take his walking-papers +rather than let go of such a scoop as that. Of course, he knows that the +New York papers would trample each other to death trying to snatch it +away from him. However, we can fix it somehow. We've got to--that's +all." + +"He'll listen to reason, I dare say," said Varney briefly. "What put it +into your head to try to buy the paper, Peter?" + +They sat in the business manager's little office at the rear of the long +counting-room downstairs, where Peter had thoughtfully paused and +snapped on all the lights. At this question an annoyed look settled +instantly on the new owner's open countenance. + +"No brains of mine," he said shortly. "It's a queer thing." + +He paused to light his battered pipe, which he produced ready-filled +from his pocket, and then said abruptly: + +"Remember that old sneak named Higginson I mentioned to you yesterday? +Well, I bagged the idea from him. When I hit town this afternoon the +first thing I heard was that Higginson was going to buy the +_Gazette_--had bought it, some said." + +"_Higginson!_" Varney stared. "What the mischief did he want with the +_Gazette?_" + +"Echo answers. No good to us, you can bet," said Peter grimly. "Gave it +out, I believe, that he was acting for a syndicate of New Yorkers who +expected flush times with the change of administration, and were +rushing to get in on the ground floor. You can believe that if you want +to. To me it sounds too fishy to do even a beginner credit. You could +wake me up in the middle of the night and I could put over a better one +than that. However," he continued, frowning, "to get back to my story. +When I heard what Higginson was up to, it naturally flashed into my mind +that it would be a mighty convenient thing if I owned the _Gazette_ +myself, instead of him. I raced off to Smith on the chance, shot an +offer at him from the door and to my surprise he accepted it--right off +the bat, cool as though the deal were for half a dozen copies of +yesterday's issue--" + +"You got in ahead of Higginson, then?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter. "And that's another queer thing--about +Smith, I mean. Higginson had been in and made him an offer an hour ahead +of me, and the fellow had turned him down flat. Yet I happen to know +that the price I offered was under Higginson's by a pretty good year's +income. Now what d' you think of that?" + +Varney was silent a moment. "Smith wants a new deal all around, I +imagine," he said slowly. "He knew that you would make the _Gazette_ an +honest paper; he didn't know anything of the sort about the other man. +Probably he knew just the contrary. Bully for Smith, I say! But what do +you make of this chap Higginson?" + +"Search me," said Peter, rather impatiently. "He's clearly imported by +Ryan for some definite purpose, but just what his game is beats me. +There'll be more developments, of course. After I'd signed up with Smith +I spent half an hour of valuable time looking for the rascal, but +couldn't find a footprint anywhere. He seems to have a special gift for +appearing and disappearing. If he decides to stay with us, though, he'll +explain himself to me to-morrow, or I'll know the reason why." + +"Well, you've already pulled his teeth, haven't you? This little +purchase of yours knocks the wind out of his sails in any event." + +"I wish I could be sure of that." + +"And, by the way, that reminds me. Of course I'm in on this, you +understand--on what you paid for the _Gazette_." + +"Not on my account," said Peter frankly. "When this town starts booming, +as it will in eight days from date--Higginson had that part of it right, +anyway--the _Gazette's_ going to be the prettiest little property you +ever saw in your life. I saw it first and you will kindly back away off +the grass. By the bye," he went on, "the lunch to-morrow. Hare and his +sister both accepted--two o'clock. You ought to have seen Hare's face +when I told him we owned this little old _Gazette_. Worth the price of +admission alone--he'd been hot as a stove all day about that story this +morning. I asked Mrs. Marne whether Miss Carstairs had happened to say +anything about coming, but she hadn't seen her to-day at all. I guess +there won't be any trouble in that quarter, though, when she gets +through reading the paper's apologies to-morrow." + +"I don't know," said Varney. "I am going to her house to-night to find +out." + +"Why?" said Peter, surprised. "What do you think we bought this paper +for, anyway?" + +"The great trouble is that she may not believe the paper. This is +important, you see. The whole thing hinges on whether or not she is +coming to lunch with us. The only way I can be certain that she is +coming is to have her tell me so." + +Peter jingled his keys. "Of course, we don't want to take chances, +but--" + +"Another thing," said Varney. "She promised to lunch with Stanhope--the +celebrity--not me, you know." + +"H'm," said Peter cogitatively, and added: "I guess you're right. I'm +sure everything's all serene, but it'll do no harm to press a call. +Well! I must fly upstairs for a while and see how things are going." + +"What about the _Daily?_" + +"That's what I've got to do right now--settle the _Daily_ and dictate a +strong _Gazette_ story for to-morrow's issue, stripping the socks off +the Stanhope lie and all that. I've got to show the boys upstairs +exactly how we want the whole thing, handled." + +"Fire away, old top." + +"It's all sketched out in my mind," continued Peter, rising. "Did it at +the hotel over my chuck-steak. I won't be long. You wait here for me, +will you? I've chartered an automobile for a week and I'll run you up to +the Carstairs house and wait outside till you're ready to go back to the +yacht." + +"Why these civilities, my son?" + +"The fact is," said Peter, a little reluctantly, "that story this +morning seems to have pulled open a lot of old sores, just as it was +meant to. Hare's picked up some loose odds and ends of talk about town +to-day. I noticed two men hanging around here as we came in just now who +didn't look right to me. I can't get it out of my head that there's +something in the wind to-night, and Higginson's back of it. Anyway, +there's no use of running needless risks, now that we've practically got +a strangle-hold on the whole proposition." + +Varney glanced at his watch. "Right for you. It's too early to call yet, +anyway. I'll wait." + +"Correct," said Peter at the door. "One last item of news. Stanhope +himself, the real one, is coming to-morrow." + +"Here--to stay?" + +Peter nodded. "The caretaker of his cottage told Hare--told him not to +tell a soul. But I don't believe he'll stay long. The fellow's clearly a +fool as well as a dog." + +"We ought to warn him how things stand here," said Varney, "no matter +what kind of person he is. You and I know that we 've made matters a +good deal worse for him." + +"He's made them a good deal worse for us, also. But I'll see that he's +promptly advised to leave while the leaving's good. Back in an hour at +the farthest." + +Peter tramped off down the passageway, banging the front door behind +him; and Varney was left alone in the little office to attend his +return. At once it came to him that this was exactly what he had been +doing ever since he had been in Hunston,--waiting for Peter. + +"I am the greatest waiter that the human race has yet produced," he +thought, despondently, and dropping down into a chair, stared long at +the shut door. + +What a day it had been!--beginning with cut-and-dried little plans that +seemed sure, running off in the middle into black depths of hopeless +complications, blossoming suddenly into unlooked-for triumph. Yes, +complete triumph at last. The visit that he meant to pay a little later +was merely an added precaution; he felt no doubts as to how matters +would turn out now. To-morrow, the _Gazette_, Peter's paper, would set +him square before all Hunston, and Mary Carstairs, sorry for the wrong +she had done him, would come to the yacht as she had engaged to do. With +the clairvoyance born of his swift revulsion of feeling, he knew that +his victory was already won. Yet he did not feel now as a conqueror +feels. In the loneliness of the tight-shut little office, he confronted +the knowledge that he did not think of Uncle Elbert's daughter as his +enemy, and that it mattered to him that she was to hate him and worse.... + +Suddenly in the entire stillness, he heard a sound close by, and +straightened up sharply. Some one was gently trying the front door. He +felt quite sure of it. He got up quickly and quietly, and hurried down +the passageway to the front; but there was nothing to be seen. + +Outside, the street, from the brilliantly-lighted room, looked inky +black. He stood a moment listening intently. He thought he heard +footsteps not far away, swiftly receding, but he could not be sure. Then +he remembered the men that Peter had seen in the street a little while +before, and understood. + +Somebody was watching him, apparently waiting for a chance. Those whom +Stanhope had wronged had been spurred to square the old account, and the +_Gazette's_ canard had not been undone yet. He yearned to dash after +those retreating footsteps and find out who was the prudent proprietor +of them. But even to stand here was hardly fair to Elbert Carstairs. + +"How can I go sailing to-morrow," he said aloud, musingly, "if I'm laid +up in a hospital, or laid out in the morgue?" + +He went back to his office, shut himself in again; and with the closing +of the door he shut out all thought of the enemies of Ferris Stanhope. +Soon his mind broke away from him, and went galloping off to the morrow. +Great vividness marked the pictures that danced before the eye of his +thought. Now the luncheon, the planned and fought for, was over. They +were there, strung out gayly along deck,--Mrs. Marne, Hare, Peter, Mary +Carstairs, and he. Then, by some deft stratagem, the others were gone +and he was sitting alone by Mary at the rail. The _Cypriani_ was slowly +moving, as though for a ten-minute spin down the river. And then, as she +gathered headway, he turned suddenly to Mary and told her everything: +how he had deceived and tricked her, and how she would not go back to +Hunston that afternoon.... + +It might have been ten minutes that he sat like this. It might have been +half an hour. But after a time he heard, suddenly and distinctly, that +noise at the door again. + +There was the less doubt about it this time, in that the shutting of the +door was now clearly audible, and there followed the distinct sound of +some one moving in the main office. Then the door in the passageway +swung open and footsteps pattered, coming nearer. The light firm steps +drew nearer, halted; and there came a small rap upon his door. + +"Come in," he called loudly, encouragingly. "I'm here, all right. Come +in." + +The door opened, a little slowly, as though not quite certain whether it +was going to open or not, and Mary Carstairs stood upon the threshold, +silhouetted in the sudden frame. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +WHEREIN SEVERAL LARGE DIFFICULTIES ARE SMOOTHED AWAY + +He had sat upright, his hands over his chair-arms, his mind and muscle +tense; but at that unbelievable sight, he fell back in his chair +relaxed, staring and dazed like one who sees a goddess in a vision. + +"Good evening," said this goddess, looking decidedly embarrassed and +remarkably pretty. "I--I am so glad that we've found you." + +"You were looking for _me_?" he said incredulous, utterly mystified; and +the instinct of long training, working on with no guidance from him, +impelled him to rise with a stiff and somewhat belated bow. + +"Yes. And there are two men with me who are anxious to help...." + +Her fragrant presence seemed to fill and transform the dingy office; and +he was at once aware that her manner had lost that cool remoteness which +at their last meeting had set him so far away. + +He pulled himself sharply together, entirely missing the implication in +her speech, and struck abruptly to the one point that mattered. + +"Some one has convinced you since last night that I am not that man." + +"Yes," she answered, looking away from him with faintly heightened +color. "I--I must ask you to forgive me for--last night." + +He bowed stiffly from behind the table. + +"But who--if I may know--persuaded you, where I appeared so--" + +"My mother," she said, simply. "She caught a glimpse of you on the +street yesterday. I did not know of it till to-day--never dreamed that +she knew you. I'm glad," she added hurriedly, resolutely contrite, "of +the chance to--to say this--" + +"It is extraordinarily kind," said Varney. He looked at her steadily, as +far from understanding the mystery of her coming as ever. + +"But I came," she went on at once, as though reading the question in his +eyes, "for quite another reason. We happened to stop just now at poor +Jim Hackley's." + +The name riveted his attention. A quality in her voice had already told +him that something troubled her. + +"At Hackley's?" + +She stood just behind Peter's deserted chair and rested her ungloved +right hand upon it. He noticed, as though it were a matter which was +going to be vital to him later on, that she wore no rings, and that +there was a tiny white spot on the nail of her thumb. + +"Some men are waiting on this dark street somewhere, Mr. Varney," she +began hurriedly, "waiting, I'm afraid, for you to come out--four or +five--I don't know how many. You know--what that means. But oh, it isn't +their fault!--they don't know any better, you see!--" + +The sudden anxiety in her voice cleared his wits and braced him like a +tonic: and so he came front to front with the fact that it was to help +him--to help _him_--that Uncle Elbert's daughter had come to the +_Gazette_ office that night. + +"I appreciate that perfectly, of course. But--the rest is not so clear. +I don't quite understand--how did you happen to learn of this?" + +"I? Oh, my learning about it was the purest chance. It was told me two +minutes ago by a visitor here, a Mr. Higginson, whom I met last night. +He is outside in the car now, and--" + +"Mr. Higginson!" echoed Varney, astounded. + +"You know him, perhaps?" + +"I? Oh, no--no. But I interrupted you. Do go on and tell me--" + +She began to speak rapidly and earnestly: + +"This afternoon I went motoring, I and a friend of mine--Mr. John +Richards. We took a wrong turn coming back, and of course were horribly +late. But at the edge of the square we stopped a minute to inquire about +Mrs. Hackley, who was taken quite ill yesterday afternoon. Just as I was +getting back into the car, up ran this Mr. Higginson, very much +flustered and excited. You see, he had just found out about all +this--this plot--even to knowing where you were; he had seen poor Jim +Hackley, it seems, not at all himself, and overheard him talking. Of +course, we saw that you must be warned at once, so we took him in the +car, and all three of us ran back here." + +She paused a moment, and he prompted her with a close-clipped: "Yes?" + +"I wanted him to--come in and tell you about it," she said +hesitatingly--"but he wouldn't do it. He is a most agreeable old man, +but, I imagine--of a very nervous temperament. So," she added with a +hurried little laugh, "as I was the only one who--knew you, I said that +I would come in and tell you myself." + +"It was most kind--most kind of you all." + +He turned away sharply to hide his sudden rush of indignation and +resentment. Turbulently he longed to get his hands upon the sly +Higginson, who had had the effrontery to dispatch a woman to protect +him, and this woman of all others that lived in Hunston.... Protect +him? Hardly. That an attack had been planned against his person was, +indeed, likely enough, but not that any hireling of Ryan's should rush +forward hysterically to pluck him from his peril. What move in that +mysterious game, what strange plot within a plot was here?... + +"Did Mr. Higginson happen to explain why he took such a generous, and I +fear very troublesome, interest in my welfare?" + +Genuinely anxious for light, he tried to iron all suggestion of a sneer +out of his voice, but evidently he did not quite succeed. + +"Oh, I don't think you ought to speak that way! Surely he has done only +what anybody would do for any stranger who was in danger and didn't know +it." + +"And you?" + +She looked at him rather shyly out of her somewhat spectacular eyes. + +"That explains me, too--if you wish." + +"Maginnis and I," said Varney immediately, "are not going out for some +time yet. Oh, a long, long time! These poor fellows you speak of will +tire of waiting long before that. And when we do go--" + +"You must not go together." + +"I don't think I understand you." + +"Don't you see," she said, speaking very earnestly, "that that is +exactly what they are hoping for? This ambuscade didn't just happen--it +is manufactured--it is politics. Men like these haven't the initiative, +or whatever you call it, to get up a thing of this sort. Some one has +done it for them. Don't you know why? _They want to get rid of Mr. +Maginnis_. But they can't hurt him _alone_--without having it brought +right home to them--to the politicians. With you--it is--different--" + +"Yes, yes--I see. But forgive my asking--did Mr. Higginson explain the +situation to you in just this way?" + +"Mr. Higginson?" she said, plainly surprised at his harking back to +that. "It was not necessary. I understood the situation very well, from +what Mr. Hare has told me. Mr. Higginson simply gave us the facts about +these men hiding out there--there was no time for anything more." + +He was staring at her with unconscious steadiness, and now his face took +on a slow faint smile, which she was very far from understanding. Blurry +as it all still was, light was beginning to break through upon him. Of +course, that was all that Mr. Higginson had told her. Of course. The +last thing desired by that clever rogue, who used petticoats for +stalking-horses and was not above hiding behind them for the safety of +his own skin, was for the engineered "attack" to go off prematurely, +landing only Varney and failing to "get" Maginnis. Warnings that the two +should _not_ go out together from Higginson? Hardly. + +"I understand perfectly. Maginnis is quite safe without me, but not at +all safe with me. You may count upon me absolutely. I'll give him the +slip and leave here alone." + +"You mustn't do anything of the kind," said Mary sharply. + +She looked at him, unsmiling, eye to eye like a man; but she looked from +under a fantastic and exceedingly becoming little hat, swathed all about +with a wholly fascinating gray veil. Her skin was of an exquisite +freshness, which threw into sharp relief the vivid coloring of her lips; +the modeling of her cheek and throat was consummate, beyond improvement; +and her eyes--he told himself that they could have no match anywhere. + +Varney laughed shortly. "I am not to go out with Maginnis. I am not to +go out without him. May I ask if I am expected to spend thnight +prudently curled up under the office table here?" + +The situation was odious to him; he knew that his manner betrayed it; +but if she was aware of this she gave no sign. On the contrary her face +all at once became miraculously sweet. + +"You aren't thinking that there's any question of courage mixed up in +this, Mr. Varney? Indeed, indeed, there is not. They would fight in the +dark; they would fight from behind. The very _bravest_ men would have no +chance, and very brave men don't take foolish risks, do they? I know by +Mr. Hare. Mr. Varney, I have a little plan." + +"Indeed? Do tell me." + +"Our car is at the door, you know--Mr. Richards's car. We'd both like it +very much if you would come with us." + +"Where?" + +"Well--I thought that perhaps you'd come to my house. Only to get rid of +these men and not to--get them into any trouble. Of course, no one in +Hunston would annoy you when you were with me." + +If he had hated the thought of accepting protection from Mary Carstairs +less intensely, he might have laughed aloud. As Higginson's catspaw, she +was certainly the most screaming failure that the whole world could have +yielded. What, oh what, would the old gum-shoe have said if he could +have heard that invitation? + +"Thank you, but that is quite impossible." + +"I am awfully sorry." + +There was a faint stiffening in her manner. She began to draw on her +right glove, slowly tucking out of sight the thumb with the tiny white +spot on the nail. + +"I hoped that perhaps you might come to dinner with us. I haven't had +any yet. May I--suggest another way out of all this, then? There is a +back gate to this place, leading into a kind of alley, you know. I am +sure that they--these poor men--haven't thought of that. Couldn't you +please go out--" + +"Certainly," said Varney. "Certainly. Yes, indeed. I'll do +anything--anything in the wide world to avoid getting thumped on the +head with Mr. Hackley's walking-stick." + +Her face told him that she found his tone and manner somewhat +disconcerting, but she took no notice of it otherwise. + +"I hope it won't be necessary to do anything more than that. But if it +should be, I hope you'll do it. I'm afraid I've failed to make you see +that this is really serious. Good-night." + +But Varney, having a question to ask her, could not let her go yet. + +"But--but," he said, hastily, "you must allow me to thank you--you and +Mr. Higginson--" + +"The thanks are all Mr. Higginson's. I'm only a messenger--and besides, +you aren't grateful at all, you know! You think we've all been +_extremely_ intrusive!" She smiled brightly, bowed, and then was +suddenly checked by a new thought. "Oh--I wonder if you would tell me +something before I go?" + +"By all means," said Varney, having no idea whether he would or not. + +But the loud jangling whir of a telephone bell from the adjoining room +cut into the air, drowning out conversation; and it rang on and on and +on as though Central had had her orders. + +"I suppose I'll have to answer that to shut them up," he said. "Excuse +me for the merest second, won't you?" + +He passed through into the brightly-lit business office beyond, and +found the telephone, still ringing away on a desk at the farther end. +Behind him the door swung shut, a circumstance for which he later had +reason to be glad. + +"Well?" he called impatiently. + +"You, Larry?" asked a familiar voice. + +"Yes. What's the matter?" + +"Matter enough," said Peter in a guarded undertone. "Hammerton's loose." + +"_What_!" + +"It's a fact. God knows how he did it; but he's just phoned in here from +a house a long way down the road. Wanted to let the city editor know he +was flying in with the one best bet of the year. Luckily he gave no +details." + +Varney's lips tightened; he spoke in a low voice. "He mustn't +arrive--not till I've seen him first. Did you find out how he's +coming--river or road?" + +"Trust Uncle Dudley. He's borrowed a bicycle and is burning up the River +road with it." + +"Good. How soon will you be through?" + +"About three minutes." + +"You've hired a motor, you said? Get it and run back here as soon as you +can, will you?" + +He rapidly explained the situation, though making no mention of +Higginson: how somebody had plotted to get them together in the darkness +of Main Street, how Miss Carstairs and her friend had kindly stopped to +warn them, and how he had humored her by promising to take all sorts of +precautions. + +"Right-O," said Peter. "I'll be in the alley at the back in no time. +Come quick when I honk three times." + +Varney came back into the little office where Mary Carstairs waited, +fresh from more cheap plotting in which she was the innocent central +figure; and faced her, uncomfortable, ill at ease, disquieted inwardly +as a conspirator taken red-handed. + +"It was Maginnis--upstairs," he explained awkwardly. + +"Yes?" she said indifferently, and resumed the buttoning of her glove. +"And will you tell me something now? It has been on my mind since last +night." + +"Certainly." + +"Who was it that spoke of me to you and made you think that I was a +little girl?" + +He was entirely taken aback by the question; but he could have parried +it easily, and he knew it. However, he was heartily sick of subterfuge +for that night. + +"It was your father," he said bluntly. + +"My father!" She stood silent a moment, slim hands interlocked before +her, heavily fringed eyes lowered. "So you know them both--my mother and +my father. Then--the mistake--about my age," she added with something of +an effort, "was natural enough. I have not seen my father for many +years." + +"I see him," said he, "constantly. Your father and I are great chums." A +sudden insane hope overwhelmed him, and he went on with a rush: "You +know, or rather probably you don't know, that he and my mother were old +friends; and I am proud to have fallen heir to the friendship. You say +that you have not seen him for some time? He is growing older very fast +this last year or two; he is much changed of late. And then, Miss +Carstairs, he is desperately lonely, all by himself in that great house +of his--" + +"_Stop_!" cried Mary Carstairs, with quick passionateness. "Stop! You +are trying to make me feel sorry for my father." + +"Well," he said, as stormy as she, "_you ought to_! But your friends are +waiting. I must not detain you any longer." + +At the curtness of his speech a very faint wave of color ran up her +cheek; and when he saw this he was sorry and glad in a single breath. At +least, she could not say afterwards that he had ever tried to make +himself falsely civil and lyingly agreeable. "Yes, I have stayed very +much too long already. You've promised that you will be careful, haven't +you? I'm really too sorry," she said, from the door, "that your visit to +Hunston should have been made disagreeable in all these ways." + +"In the name of heaven," he said, stung into momentary recklessness, +"you don't suppose that I came here expecting any _fun_!" + +"Why--I had understood that it was purely a pleasure-trip that brought +you here!" + +He made no answer to this, but stepped forward and swung open the door +for her. + +"Maginnis," he said, "is to call for me immediately in a motor. We +shall leave by the unobtrusive back alley. Two men, a motor, and a dark +rear exit. You will scarcely imagine that there is any danger now. But +may I thank you again for giving us warning when there _was_, perhaps, +some danger?" + +"So you think there is a 'perhaps'? If you take precautions, it is only +to humor a--" + +"I withdraw that 'perhaps,'" he broke out in a rush. "I blot it out, +annihilate it. Who am I to catch at tatters of self-respect? Are you +blind? Can't you see that every fiber of me is tingling with the +knowledge that there was real danger, and that you saved me from it?" + +The quick bitterness in his voice, which there was no missing, was the +last straw, breaking through her reserve, demolishing her dainty +aloofness. She shook the swinging gray veil back out of her eyes and +looked up at him, openly and frankly bewildered, looking very young and +immeasurably alluring. + +"Will you tell me why you speak in that way? Will you tell me why it is +the worst thing that has happened to you in Hunston to have been helped +a little by me?" + +They faced each other at the open door, not an arm's length between +them; and the moment of his reckoning for the quarter of an hour he had +spent with her that night was suddenly upon him. He met her eyes, which +were darkly blue, stared down into them; and as he did so, the spell of +her beauty treacherously closed round him, piping away his self-control, +deadening him to the iron fact of who she was and who he was, shutting +out all knowledge except that of her fragrant nearness. + +"It is absurd," he answered her suddenly, "but to save my life I can't +decide whether you are tall or short." + +The front door came open with a bang; the noise brought him sharply to +himself; and the next moment a pleasant impatient masculine voice called +out: + +"I say, Miss Carstairs! Er--everything all right?" + +"Oh!--yes, Mr. Richards!" she called penitently. "I'm coming this +minute. No, please don't go out with me, Mr. Varney. Don't let anybody +see that you are here." + +"Certainly not," said he, struggling for a poise which he could not +quite recapture. "Then will you be good enough to convey my gratitude to +Mr. Higginson and say that I hope to have the opportunity of thanking +him personally to-morrow?" + +"Yes, of course. Good-night once more--and good luck!" + +But he detained her long enough to put the plain business question which +had been torturing his soul for the last twenty-four hours. + +"We shall see you at luncheon to-morrow?" + +He strove to give his remark the air of a mere commonplace of farewell; +but at it, he saw her look break away from his and the warm color stream +into her face. + +"Why--I--I'll come with pleasure. We don't get the chance to lunch on +yachts every day in Hunston. Oh, but please," she exclaimed, her +embarrassment suddenly melting in a very natural and charming +smile--"never let my mother _dream_ that we've _not been introduced!_" + +He bowed low so that she might not see the burlesque of polite pleasure +on his face. + + * * * * * + +The back alley exit proved all that the most timorous could have +desired. Peter approached it by an elusive detour; Varney appeared +promptly at the sound of his three honks; and the rendezvous was +effected in a black darkness which they seemed to have entirely to +themselves. Not a hand was raised to them, not a threatening figure +sprang up to dispute their going, not a fierce curse cursed them. The +would-be assassins, if such there were, presumably still lurked in some +Main Street cranny, patiently and stupidly waiting, entirely unaware +that they had been neatly outwitted by the clever strategies of Miss +Mary Carstairs. + +The car rolled noiselessly out of the alley, skimmed off through the +southern quarter of the town and bowled into the rough and rutty River +road toward the yacht. Once there, since a sharp lookout for the +reporter was necessary, they slowed down and down until the smooth +little car, with all lights out, crawled along no faster than a vigorous +man will walk. + +"What're you going to do when we catch him?" asked Peter. "Want to haul +him on back to the yacht?" + +"No. I'm--only going to talk to him a little. Go on with the story." + +"Well," resumed Peter, taking one hand from the driving-wheel to remove +a genuine Connecticut Havana, "the first thing was a wire from the +_Daily_ firing Hammerton. That assisted a little, of course. Then, they +asked us to give them a new, good man at once, and meantime to push +along all the story we had. We answered with a wire that was a beauty, +if I do mention it myself, telling them exactly how they'd been sold a +second-hand gold brick by a corrupt paper which was trying to play +politics. It simply knocked the pins from under them. It took 'em quite +a while to come back with inquiries about the name off the yacht, +Varney's air of mystery and all that line of slush. My response was +vigorous, yet gentlemanly, straining the truth for all she'd stand, and +even bu'sting her open here and there, I gravely fear. However, it was a +clincher. It crimped them right. Not a peep have we had from 'em since." + +"I suppose they'll run four lines on the thirteenth page to-morrow +explaining it was all a mistake." + +"But that wasn't the serious part of the thing--not by a mile-walk," +continued Peter, the shine of victory in his honest eyes. "Am I still in +the road? Sing out if you see me taking to the woods, will you? The more +I think of what you and I have missed by a shave, the more I'm likely to +feel sick in the stomach. You know those rascals had already begun +asking for orders all over the country--they were so sure they'd have a +hot story to send out. Not only that, but a lot of papers wired for it +without being asked. It looked as if every newspaper office in America +that had got a glimpse at the _Daily_ this morning instantly got dead +stuck on that story. I stood at the telegraph desk and watched the +accursed things come in, like this: '500 words story involving Stanhope, +Rochester _Tribune_.' 'No. 3.--' That was the number of our story on the +query list.--'No. 3.--Full details, Chicago _Ledger_.' 'No. 3--1000 +words, Philadelphia _Journal_.' And so on and on. It looked uncanny, I +tell you--all those far-away people calling for information about our +affairs just like old friends. Will you kindly let your mind play about +that a minute, Laurence? Will you kindly think of a situation like that +with Ryan and Coligny Smith handling it as their little whimseys +dictated?" + +"I'd rather not. You wired those papers that the story was a canard and +all that, I suppose?" + +"No!" roared Peter, "I did something a whole lot better than that. I had +one of the men write a hot political story about the _Gazette_ and the +change of management and the sudden rise of Reform. There's _news_ in +that, don't you see?--and it was the Stanhope-Varney story, too--the +real one. When I left the office, they were selling it like hot cakes, +all over the country--all over the world--" + +"Hold on!" said Varney, sharply. "Here's Hammerton, I think--bringing in +a whole lot better story than yours!" + +The road here was straight as a string stretched tight. Far down it, +they saw a single small light, dancing towards them a foot or two above +the ground. + +Peter threw off his clutch, clapped on his brakes and stopped short. +Varney slid out of the seat and stood waiting in the black inkiness +beside the unlighted car. In the sudden stillness they could hear the +rattle of the bicycle chain and even the crunch of the hard-blown tires, +spinning rapidly over the road. Now the light was perhaps a hundred +yards away. + +"Blow!" hispered Varney. + +The horn's honk cut the silent air hoarsely. Instantly the speed of the +oncoming light was checked. It advanced steadily, but much more slowly, +as though the rider sensed that his road might be blocked, but could not +yet determine where the hidden obstacle might be. + +"Hello!" called a lusty young voice suddenly. "Who's there?" + +There was no answer. The light came on more slowly still. Now it was +fifty yards away, now twenty, now ten. Varney stepped out of the +blackness, directly in front of it, and seized both handle-bars in +fingers that gripped like a vise. The shock of the sudden stopping all +but cost the rider his seat. + +"May I detain you one moment, please, Mr. Hammerton?" + +The little light of the bicycle lamp was all concentrated downward. +Above that round yellow ray, faces were unrecognizable in the pitchy +blackness. The voice, however, was unmistakable. Hammerton was off the +back of his wheel in the wink of an eye, on a sudden desperate bolt for +the woods. + +Peter, still on the driver's seat, and seeing neither his friend nor his +enemy, saw the light with the bicycle behind it go over with a crash. +That was when Varney's hands let go of the handle-bars. The next instant +they fell upon Hammerton's withdrawing figure and brought it up with a +sharp jerk. + +Peter heard the ensuing struggle, but saw nothing. He paid Varney the +tribute of sitting still in his seat and saying not a word. The contest +was bitter, but brief. Hammerton fought wildly, but Varney's arms +presently closed round him, squeezing the life out of him. Locked fast +in each other's arms, they fell heavily, Hammerton underneath. Varney +freed his legs with a swift wrench, swung round and came up riding upon +the other's chest. + +Charlie Hammerton was beaten and knew it. His body lay along the rocky +road, inert and unresisting. He breathed in convulsive gasps, but apart +from that, now that he was down, he never moved. He was as tired as a +man well could be. Varney sitting closely upon him, holding him fast, +felt that the reporter's clothes were wringing wet. However, he had him, +and the _Cypriani's_ great secret was once more in captivity. + +The eyes of the two men strained into the dark where each other's faces +must be, but they saw nothing. + +"It's all up with you, Hammerton," said Varney presently. "The _Daily_ +fired you an hour ago." + +"Thanks to you," said Hammerton doggedly. "But if you think that lets +_you_ out, you're a bigger fool than I thought." + +"That is not all," said Varney slowly. "The _Gazette_ has fired you, +too." + +The reporter swore bitterly beneath his breath: curiously enough, he +did not seem to question the statement for a moment. "What of it?" he +cried. "You don't think that'll stop my mouth, do you--you _devil_!" + +"There is still something more. Maginnis has bought the _Gazette_. He +and I own the news of this town now. Coligny Smith is fired, too. The +_Gazette_ starts an honest life to-morrow, and the old dirty regime is +over forever." + +"Liar!" cried Hammerton, hoarsely. "Liar!" but there was no conviction +in the mad resentment of his voice. + +"No," said Varney, without anger. "I am telling you the truth and you +know it." + +"Well--there are other papers,--other towns," cried Hammerton +passionately. "What I've got on you will sell anywhere. Why, damn you, +_damn you, damn you_--don't you know you'll have to kill me to hush this +up?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to make +a friend of you. I'm going to make you editor of the _Gazette_ in +Smith's place with double your present salary and an interest in the +paper." + +There was black silence, more thrilling than any speech. + +"Will you take it?" asked Varney. + +Then the boy's overstrained self-command snapped like a bow-string and +his breast shook with sudden hysteria. "Will I take it?" he cried with a +gasping laugh that was rather more like a sob. "Will I take the Court +of St. James? Will I take money from home? Oh, my God, will I take it!" + +"Hooray!" rang Peter's great voice out of the gloom. "Hip, hip, hooray +for Editor Hammerton!" + +Peter's tribute, in reality, was not so much for Hammerton's acceptance +as for the astonishing neatness with which Varney had disposed of the +editorship of _his_ paper. But to Varney, rising limply from Hammerton's +chest at the edge of the dark road, that cheer meant only that he had +kicked the last obstacle out of his path and that he and Mary were going +to New York to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +A LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY ON THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +The expectation appeared thoroughly conservative: not a cloud so large +as a man's hand any longer darkened the horizon. At two o'clock next day +Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ rode gayly at her old anchorage. At the rail +stood Varney and Maginnis, hosts of pleasant and guileless mien, their +eyes upon the trim gig which came dancing over the water toward them. In +the gig sat J. Pinkney Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne, blithely coming +to lunch aboard with their two new friends. + +The yacht's return to Hunston had been in all ways different from her +going. She had slipped away like the hunted thing she was, running to +cover with a hold full of fears, shying at every craft that passed, and +yelled after from the shore by a stoutish young man with inimical +opinions in his eye. She had steamed back, early this morning, not +merely without fear, but proudly, her whistle screaming for the +lime-light, her fore-truck flying, so to say, the burgee of vindication; +and the stoutish and inimical young man had come aboard for breakfast +with his new employer at nine o'clock sharp. Such was the measure of the +whitewashing work accomplished by three columns in Mr. Maginnis's +_Gazette_ that morning. + +Of the "news value" of those astonishing columns, "the author's double" +(as the _Gazette's_ converted reporters felicitously dubbed him) had had +abundant evidence in the many glances that followed him upon the streets +of Hunston that morning. Varney's errand in town had had to do with +Tommy Orrick. Some search was needed to find the transient tenant of +Kerrigan's loft; but when he was finally located the matter of homes in +New York was discussed and settled in the most satisfactory way in the +world. It was decided that Tommy should remove his Penates to the city +that very evening, where he was to be met at Forty-second Street by a +Mr. Horace O'Hara, an interesting personage who had once been a burglar +but was now in the fish and vegetable way at Fulton Market. Together +they would make their way to the Home. Future plans had to do with an +educative course at the graded schools and other matters so strange and +exalted that one could not hear them mentioned without experiencing the +most benumbing abashment. + +The two good friends parted with a handshake, enforced by the young +man--a unique ceremonial which filled the small breast of Thomas with a +conflict of strange emotions; and Varney, having dispatched a telegram +to Mr. O'Hara, and another to Mrs. Marie Duval, who had the home with no +boys in it on 117th Street, had at once turned his face back to the +yacht. He chose the woodland path for his walk, which struck straight +down from the handsome residence street and skirted the river at a +point near the _Cypriani's_ anchorage; and here an incident of interest +befell him. As he sauntered down the path, conscious of a sudden curious +loss of spirits, his attention was caught by the blurred sound of voices +from the street, some fifty yards behind him; and presently the vague +rumble crystallized into something like this: + +"... Infernal absence of livery ... Far ... station-master fellow say +it was, Henry?" + +The voice was masculine, carefully modulated, decidedly elegant. A +different sort of voice gave answer: + +"'E said, sir ... mile, but knowing the hodd way they count distances +away from the cities, sir, I'm 'ardly 'oping to see it under two +mile--hif that." + +Varney idly turned. The woods were thick just ahead of him, cutting off +all view of the street; but further on, to the north, there was a break +in the leafy wall, revealing a small slit of patent cement sidewalk. +Soon, as he watched, two pedestrians stepped into view within this frame +of foliage: a tall immaculate-looking man swinging a trim cane, and +behind him a stocky, middle-sized, black-garbed fellow struggling along +under two suit-cases and a roll of umbrellas. In three steps they had +passed across the little open space and were again lost behind the +trees, their voices running once more into an indistinguishable rumble. + +Varney, halting in the path, had little doubt who the tall man was. It +was Ferris Stanhope, returning to the home of his boyhood and sublimely +unaware of the nature of the reception which awaited him. + +Cordially as Varney loathed the great author, he had no wish to see him +taken by surprise and beaten to a pulp by mob-law. Moreover, if anything +like that happened, he and Peter would be largely responsible, since the +present excitement of feeling had been largely worked up for their +benefit. He had half a mind to go straight after the _insouciant_ +visitor now, unpleasant as it would be to have to speak to him, and give +him the fair warning he was entitled to. But he dismissed the impulse as +plainly overdoing his duty: the man was in no possible danger in broad +daylight, and Peter had already promised that he would attend to the +warning business himself. + +Now, as they stood calmly chatting at the rail under the brilliant sky, +he told Peter of the author's arrival, and dutifully reminded him of +that promise. Peter renewed it, without enthusiasm. His eyes rested on +the approaching gig with a kind of fascination; and Varney followed his +gaze. + +"Isn't Hare dressy, though! Frock-coat and all that ..." + +"Yes ... He'll add a needed touch of elegance to the somber setting of +the drama." + +"By the way," said Varney presently, "how did Hammerton get away last +night? I believe Ferguson's been dodging me all day, but the fact is +I've never given it a thought." + +Peter laughed. + +"He's sharp as a tack, that boy is. He played dead till old Ferguson got +first interested, then nervous, and lastly careless. Lay there two hours +without moving; breathed as little as he could do with, and at long +intervals fluttered one eyelid and took a peep how the land lay. After a +while there came a time when the door was left wide open and only one +deckhand in sight. Hammerton floored him with a chair from behind, and +jumped over the rail. She happened to be moving close inshore at the +time, and he was in the woods before the fatheads even got a boat down." + +Varney echoed his laugh absently. All morning, since his return from +Hunston, he had felt himself enfolded by a mysterious despondency, which +he had seemed unable either to account for or to shake off. But now, as +the final climax of his business drew near to summon him, he felt his +spirits inexplicably rising again. A certain excitement possessed him; +he was glad that at last his hour had come. + +Hardly listening to Peter, he was running over in the most business-like +way the little scheme, mapped out and rehearsed together that morning, +by which the two superfluous guests, the mere "sleepers" in the +orchestra, were to be detached at the proper moment. Yes, certainly; it +was sound and would hold water. So would everything else. Peter's things +had gone ashore two hours before, for he was to remain in Hunston. +Everything had been provided for; the last detail systematically +arranged. A surer scheme and a clearer coast could not possibly have +been contrived or desired. + +"At breakfast," continued Peter, "Hammerton suddenly blurted out that, +while he wasn't crazed with conscientiousness as a rule, one thing had +kept him awake last night. Demanded whether we had the nerve to think +that we had simply bought him off with a job. 'Perish the thought, +Charlie,' said I, looking kind of hurt at the bare suggestion. 'Thank +you, Maginnis,' said he, dignified as the President. 'It's an honest +fact that I gave up the chase because I felt all along that you two +fellows couldn't possibly be mixed up in anything underhanded.' Aha! +thinks me to myself ... Eh, Laurence?" + +"Just exactly." + +"Well, cheer up. It's done every day by our best families. And speaking +of doing underhanded things," said Peter, "our guests approach rapidly. +Up, guards, and at them!" + +He took off his terrible Panama and waved it in a friendly manner. + +"How-de-do, Mrs. Marne! Morning, candidate! Welcome aboard." + +The sister and brother came up the stair, and were cordially greeted by +their hosts. + +"Ashore again!" ordered Varney over the side. "There is another guest." + +"So we have not kept you waiting after all," cried Mrs. Marne, flashing +a triumphant eye upon her brother. "Mary is not here yet--the prinker!" + +She was dark, vivacious for a chaperon, easily on the correct side of +thirty, and arrayed in very light mourning indeed. She had a will: for +it was she who had baited J. Pinkney Hare with sociology and politics to +abandon the law in New York, at which he was doing rather well, and +follow her to Hunston. This was when her husband, a member of Hunston's +oldest family--for there was aristocracy in the town--had left her +widowed the year of their marriage. + +"Three times," Hare elucidated to Varney, "did she tell me, 'I'll be +ready in a minute.' And a ten-minute interval elapsed each time, by my +grandfather's trusted chronometer." + +"Oh, well," said Varney, "who'd put any trust in a woman who was ready +when she said she'd be? Let's get into the shade." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, sister-wise, as she turned with Varney, "gets +his ideas about women from the comic weeklies." + +They sauntered aft, Peter and Hare in the rear. + +"Committee meeting at five-thirty?" + +"Precisely. And by the bye," began Hare.... + +The candidate, in his tiny frock coat, with pale gray spats and scarf to +match, looked overdressed in the brilliant sunshine. Yet probably Peter, +whose purple tie blossomed too gorgeously above a blue silk "fancy vest" +of a cut a good deal affected in the early nineties, looked the more +striking of the two. + +"He's a fool," declared Peter presently. "The chances are that Ryan has +a barrel of votes salted down where we'll have the devil's own time +tapping them. You can't smoke out a skunk in a minute, I tell you." + +Mrs. Marne, in a cushioned chair, was being markedly agreeable to her +host. + +"It's my _debut_ on a yacht," she was rattling away. "Is there any +special etiquette? Coach me from time to time when you see me fumbling, +won't you? And if there _is_ a code, there is one thing that I move +shall go into it, here and now. Politics is--or are--_barred_ for the +day! Will you make it a rule that whoever mentions it--or them--forfeits +butter, Mr. Varney?" + +Varney laughed. "A rank outsider myself," said he, "I'm absolutely +willing. But I fear that in a division the nays would have it." + +"You and I," she said, "against Mr. Maginnis and Pinky. A tie. Mary +would have the deciding vote." + +"Then you'd lose out," said her brother, whose social manner, it was +developing, differed somewhat from that of his official moments. + +"I know women," said Mrs. Marne. "I could lobby Mary over in exactly two +minutes, Mr. Varney. Besides, she is absent at roll-call, you know." + +"The point is well taken," said Varney, to whom the thought was anything +but a novelty. + +"There she is now," said Peter over their shoulders. + +Varney turned and looked ashore at the point where the gig was patiently +waiting. There was no sign of anybody there. + +"Upstream," added Peter, and the sudden honk of a motor-horn punctuated +the observation like a full stop. + +Two hundred yards above them, a narrow driveway circled down to the +river to an ancient boat-house, and here the gaze of the little party +turned. Where the road curved at the water's edge, there stood a great +white touring-car, shining in the sun like a new pin. Upon the driver's +seat sat a bare-headed young man with a brown face and light sunburned +hair, brushed back. On the farther side of him, gloved hand holding to +the seat back, stood a young girl in a blue linen dress and a rather +conspicuously large hat, also of blue. Both of them were looking off +toward the _Cypriani_. Now the horn tooted again in salutation; and the +girl, catching their eyes, waved her hand and smiled, making a little +gesture indicative of her lack of equipment to navigate the intervening +stretch of water. + +Mrs. Marne answered the salute in kind. Reassuring gesticulations were +duly wafted ashore. + +"Who's the new swain, Pinky?" demanded Mrs. Marne thoughtfully. + +Pinky did not know. The sailing-master, at a word from Varney, hurled an +order to the gig ashore. Then he swept his megaphone upstream, pointing +it straight at the motor: + +"The gig is on the way to you now, Miss." + +"That's an awfully sweet hat she's wearing," said Mrs. Marne. "I wonder +where she found that shape." + +Miss Carstairs nodded her thanks to the sailing-master. The bare-headed +young man sprang down, assisted her to descend, waited with her at the +water's edge, assisted her most thoroughly into the _Cypriani's_ gig. He +was a handsome boy. He stood on the shore looking after the departing +boat, laughing and calling out something. + +"We wanted to have luncheon on deck," said Varney, abruptly, to Mrs. +Marne, "as the day is so uncommonly fine. But about noon there came up a +little cloud no larger than a man's hand--it took a telescope to see +it--and the steward, a pronounced conservative, begged us not to trifle +with our luck. It seems too bad to go indoors on such a glorious day." + +"But if we were to stay outdoors," she laughed, "would it have been such +a glorious day? These are the questions that make cynics of us all. I am +unhappy, Mr. Varney, because I have to fly the moment luncheon is over. +The Married Women's Culture Club meets at four o'clock. Only fancy!--I +am to read a paper on Immanuel Kant." + +Peter, who had known no women in his life and was oppressed with the +thought that Hare's sister was his personal responsibility for the day, +was strolling moodily about the deck, hands thrust deep in his trousers +pocket. Hare hung at the rail, his neat glasses turned upstream. + +The gig came alongside and Miss Carstairs mounted the steps, the party +gathered at the head of them to meet her. Peter, as it chanced, greeted +her first. He had been introduced to her, in passing, the night of the +meeting, but now he was dimly conscious that he had rather +underestimated her appearance. + +"I am dreadfully sorry to be late," she said. "We went for the shortest +little drive, and all at once it was two o'clock and we were three miles +away." + +"You must have done something to the speed-limit, madam," said Peter in +his stiffest manner, "for you are in ample time." + +"How do you do, Mr. Hare?" + +"Excellently well, thank you, Mary. It is supererogatory to ask you." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, "have that word and I met? I don't seem to +recognize it." + +"Good-morning, Mr. Varney." Mary offered him her hand; but, greeting +her, he had turned to pull a chair out of her way, and so missed seeing +it. + +"It is a great pleasure to welcome you aboard the yacht, Miss +Carstairs." + +"If I seem at all addicted to melancholia to-day," said Mary, "you won't +be surprised, will you? My mother isn't well--really! When I left her an +hour ago, you might have supposed that we were parting for a year. And +then, besides I had an omen--a mysterious warning...." + +Varney's gaze became fixed. "A warning?" + +She laughed. "A rather queer and scary one! I'll tell you presently." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Marne, when Varney had turned to explain the +working of the boat-falls to Hare, "_who_ is he? He is simply +cunning!" + +Mary laughed. Hare, who was listening to boat matters with one ear only, +thought it was rather a conscious laugh. + +"Only John Richards. He came up in his car yesterday to spend a day with +us. How do you like my hat?" + +"It's a love," said Mrs. Marne. "A great big love." + +"I trimmed it myself. You recognize the feather, of course?" + +They went down to luncheon. The ladies cried out with pleasure at the +prettiness of the little saloon. + +The room was darkened, through half-drawn shades, to a pleasant +dimness. The table was round, red, and bare. It was a splendid mass of +flowers. In the center was a great blossoming thing in a silver +basket-frame, so large and high that when they were seated, Hare, who +was neither, could just see Mary over the top of it. About it were four +tall vases of cut roses, two of white, two of red. Button-holes in white +and red lay at three covers, gigantic American Beauties, red, with +flowing white ribbons, at two. And napery, silver, iridescent glass, all +the materialities, were well worthy of so pretty a floral setting. + +In short, it was a most alluring bait that Uncle Elbert's yacht had +flung out for Uncle Elbert's daughter. + +"These roses," said Mary, raising hers to her lips, "were never grown in +Hunston." + +"I want to explain a rule that Mr. Varney and I adopted just now, Mr. +Maginnis," said Mrs. Marne. "Did you hear it? It concerns the two +subjects of butter and politics." + +Hare lifted a glass of the _Cypriani's_ excellent sherry and caught his +host's eye. "Mr. Varney! By a pleasant coincidence, we happen to be +gathered here within a day or two of the birthday of one member of our +charming party. The little discrepancy of date is immaterial--am I +right? Why may I not propose the health and great happiness of Miss +Carstairs?" + +"Standing!" cried Mrs. Marne, pushing back her chair. "Bravo!" + +They stood, glasses raised, turned toward Miss Carstairs, bowing, +saluting her according to their several kinds; and she sat, looking up +at them, laughing, flushed, prettily pleased by the little rite. For +Varney, conscious of the mockery of his felicitations, there had been no +escape. But Hare, who noticed everything, observed that he did not touch +his glass to his lips. + +The luncheon progressed merrily. It was evident from the beginning that +it was to be a pronounced success. Only Peter was stiff and bored; and +even he grew somewhat enlivened before the ceremonies ended. There was +Scotch and soda for the gentlemen, and he did not spurn it when the +decanters passed. Varney, whose want of appetite pained McTosh, was a +conversational tower of strength. But his talk was false-faced talk, his +mirth was lying mirth, his smile a painted smile. Uncle Elbert's +daughter sat at his left, as befitted a guest of honor. Her eyes, when +she looked at him, were kind and friendly, but it early became his habit +not to meet them; for he always saw behind that--saw them changed as he +was destined to see them within the hour.... + +"So you're quite alive and well to-day!" she said to him presently. +"Will you believe that I picked up the _Gazette_ this morning with fear +and trembling?" + +"Oh--thank you--yes! We eluded Mr. Hackley's well-meant attentions with +marvelous dexterity and success." + +"Ah, you still don't take it seriously, I see. I'm going to make one +more effort to frighten you to-day--but I'm afraid you are one of these +terribly reckless people who think being safe is too tame to be +interesting. What do you think of our poor little city, Mr. Varney?" + +"I? I assure you," he said, turning a gay face toward her, "I think it +positively the most exciting town I ever saw in my life. But then, of +course, I 've had unusual privileges. What is much more important--what +do you think of it?" + +"Of course, I love it. My mother went here to boarding school a great, +great many years ago. No, not that--some years ago. She fell in love +with the place on account of the scenery, and the air, which she says is +fresher than you can get in other places. Personally, I believe that the +same quality can be had elsewhere, but she says not at all. So when +we--left New York, nothing would do for her but to come straight here." + +"But don't you find it a little dull?" + +"Dull! Why," she cried, after a moment, "you talk exactly the way she +does." + +"May I offer you an olive?" + +She took it daintily in her fingers, bit it and resumed: "I suppose your +metropolitan idea is that a person would be buried alive in Hunston?" + +A sunny shaft broke in from without and became entangled with her hair, +which was in some ways so curiously like it. McTosh, whose eye was +everywhere, promptly lowered a shade two inches--the one blunder he made +that day. + +"Isn't it?" + +"That would depend altogether on the person." + +"Me." + +"I do think so, decidedly." + +"Really you and my mother would be very congenial." + +"McTosh, the bread," said Peter's cool voice. + +Mrs. Marne, who had been interested by Peter's taciturnity and +fascinated by his waistcoat, had been leading that ordinarily masterful +man something of a conversational dance. Detached for the moment by his +demand for provender, she called across the table: "Mary, I herewith +invite you to attend the Culture Club meeting at four o'clock this +afternoon, to lead the applause for my paper on Immanuel Kant. Pinky +wrote it and--" + +"Before any court in the land," said Hare, lifting his glance above +squab _en casserole_, "I am prepared to establish my innocence of this +charge." + +"If he positively will not take no for an answer," continued Mrs. Marne, +"you may bring John Richards along. No claret, thank you, Mr. Maginnis. +Men, it is true, are not admitted to the sacred mysteries, but I will +arrange to have him seated on the piazza where he may eavesdrop the +whole thing through the long French window." + +"Unfortunately," said Mary, "he has to go to Albany this afternoon, I +believe." + +"To resume our conversation, Mrs. Marne," said Peter. + +"I shouldn't if I were you," Hare recommended. "If memory serves, it was +hardly worth it. Why not, instead, permit me to tell the story of the +seven fat men of Kilgore?" + +McTosh, of the gum-shoe tread, shuffled courses dextrously. An +under-steward assisted in the presentation of the viands, another +manipulated dishes in the hidden precincts of the pantry. The service +was swift and noiseless, but not more so than the passage of time. The +hands of the little clock fastened against the forward bulkhead already +stood at quarter after three. + +Mary's eyes, which had been resting on the candidate, turned back to +Varney, and they were shining. "Seriously, Mr. Varney," she said in a +lowered voice--"how could any one possibly be buried in a town where +Mr. Hare is?" + +"Mr. Hare?" + +She nodded. "Because he is so _alive_! Why just to live in the same town +with him is an inspiration. To be friends with him--well, that is all +you ever need to keep from feeling buried alive! He isn't listening, is +he?" + +"No," said Varney, "he is, I believe, telling the story of the seven fat +men of Kilgore." + +"If you wish to hand bouquets to Pinky for a while," called Mrs. Marne, +aside, "I will see that you are not disturbed, Mary." + +"Thank you, Elsie, but it's your sisterly duty to listen to the story. +Mr. Hare," she presently went on, to Varney, "had a great career ahead +of him in New York--Judge Prentiss told me so--and he kicked it over +without a quiver and came up here where there isn't any glitter or +fireworks, but only plain hard work. Politics is only an incident with +him. No one will ever understand all that he has done for Hunston, +without any thought of return--working with all his heart and his head +and his hands." + +"Ha! Ha!" said Peter down the table. "That reminds me--" + +"You have known him a long time, I suppose?" asked Varney. + +"Yes," she laughed, "but he has known me longer--ever since I was a +very little girl. That is why he calls me by my name, which gives him a +great moral advantage. I call him Mister because I didn't know him when +he was a very little boy. I have figured it all out, and I couldn't +have, because he was thirteen when I was born. Besides, you can't begin +to know people till you have reached a certain age. Can you?" + +"Not to say know, I should think." + +"Say six," said Miss Carstairs. "That's liberal, I think. Well, he was +nineteen _then_, and I never even saw him till seven years afterwards, +anyway. That made him twenty-six, which was much too late. Now he says +that I should call him by his name, but of course I'm not going to do +it." + +"It is hard to change an old habit in a thing like that." + +"Oh, I don't mind the hardness of it. But whoever heard of calling a +Mayor by his first name? Call a Mayor Pinky! The thought is ridiculous. +Isn't it, Mr. Hare?" + +But Hare was engrossed with a conversation of his own, now turned upon +economic lines. + +"Everything in the world that goes up must come down," he was saying +didactically, "except prices. They alone defy the laws of gravity." + +Peter challenged the aphorism, wordily. Mrs. Marne smiled at Mary across +the flower-sweet table. + +"No," answered Hare presently. "Money isn't everything, but it is most. +It makes the mare go; also the nightmare. It talks, it shouts, and in +the only language that needs no interpreter. I may describe it, without +fear of contradiction, as the Esperanto of commerce." + +"Clever, Pinky!" called his sister, derisively. "Confess that you +rehearsed this before a mirror." + +The luncheon ended. If anything had been wanting to prove how agreeable +it had been, it appeared now in the pretty reluctance with which the +ladies rose. There was the customary pushing back of chairs, smoothing +down of garments, recovering of handkerchiefs from beneath the board. +The room and the table were the objects of new compliments, given in +farewell. + +"Who would have dreamed," said Mary, looking back from the door at her +father's perfectly appointed room, "that yachts were as nice as this?" + +"And to think," said Mrs. Marne, "that it was all done by a Mere Man." + +McTosh, the mere man in question, blushed violently behind his deft +hand. + +They stepped up on deck into the shade of a great striped awning, and +loitered along the side, caught by the beauty of the late summer scene. +Sky and water and green wood blended into practised perfectness. The +rippling water was blue as the heavens, which was very blue indeed. The +sun kissed it like a lover. + +"Will some one kindly tell me," demanded Hare, referring to his sister's +remark, "how the superstition arose that men have no taste?" + +"I have read," said Mary idly, her back against the rail, "that it was +invented by the authority who started the slander about women's having +no sense of humor." + +"Why, they haven't, have they?" + +"You're wrong there, Hare," said Peter, out of his fathomless ignorance. +"For my part I think that women are often more amusing than men." + +"Of course, Maginnis, of course. The point is that it never dawns on +them." + +They were strung out along the after deck, a gay and friendly company, +exactly as Varney had pictured them in his thoughts. From the hatch +emerged the stewards, in stately processional, bearing coffee and +cigars, their paraphernalia and appurtenances. Twenty feet away, on the +other side, was to be seen the sailing-master's wife, sitting under +orders, sedate, matronly, knitting a pale blue shawl and giving to the +bright scene an air of indescribable domesticity. + +"Women," said Mrs. Marne to Varney, "have a splendid sense of humor. I +am a woman and I know. True, we keep a tight grip on our wit when we are +with men, because, whatever men may say in moments like these, they do +loathe and despise a comical woman. But when we are alone together--ah, +dearie me, what funny things we do say! Don't we, Mary?" + +Varney, to show himself how cool he was, was lighting a cigarette, and +had just perceived with annoyance that his hand shook. + +"At least," he answered easily, "no man will ever disprove that, since +no man has ever had the pleasure of being present when women are alone +together. I can recommend the Invincibles, Hare." + +Peter, as one sensitive to the duties of host, now begged Mrs. Marne to +let him show her something of the yacht. He mentioned the crew's +quarters and the--er--butler's pantry as points which he particularly +desired to bring to her attention. + +"I'd _love_ to see them! Oh--I must take just one peep before I fly." + +The trio started forward in a whirl of her animated talk, Peter leading +with a dutiful face, Hare strutting solemnly along in the rear. Mary +glanced at Varney. + +"Aren't you going to show me your butler's pantry, too?" + +"Rather!" he said, starting with her up the deck. "But I want you to see +the whole ship, you know, much more thoroughly than Mrs. Marne has time +for--and to take a little spin--" + +He was interrupted by an exaggerated cry from the lady last mentioned, +who, happening to glance down at her watch, had stopped short at the +cabin-hatch in great dismay. + +Now she turned back to Varney crying: "Oh! oh! Mr. Varney, it's _twenty +minutes to four_! I must fly to my Culture _this instant_!" + +At that, for Varney, the little party lost the last traces of its false +good-fellowship and stood out for what it was. Mrs. Marne's hurried +departure slightly dislocated his carefully-laid plans; it was evident +that her brother had no intention of going with her. Over her +unconscious head, his eye caught Peter's in a faint sweep which +indicated the little candidate. + +"Oh--must you, Mrs. Marne?" said Varney, with civil regret. + +"I _must_! I wish--oh, how I wish!--that culture had never been +invented. The world lasted a long time without it, I'm sure. I detest to +eat and run, yet what else can possibly be done by the author of +'_Ideals of Immanuel Kant_'?" + +"It is too bad," said Varney, "but if duty really calls, I suppose there +is nothing for it but to have your boat ready at once." + +"I ought to go, too," said Mary. + +A chorus of protests annihilated the thought. Mrs. Marne declared that +she would never, no, never, forgive herself if she broke up so +delightful a party. It was unanimously decided that the other guests +were to remain long enough to be shown something of the yacht. Mention +of a little spin down the river was once more casually thrown out. + +Events moved swiftly. The gig was manned, waiting. Varney under cover of +issuing orders, found opportunity to say a hurried word to Peter. Mrs. +Marne approached Mary, who was discussing yachts with Hare, to make +adieu. Suddenly the large face of Maginnis loomed over her shoulder. + +"Good-bye, Miss Carstairs--you'll excuse me, won't you?" said he, +briefly. "I--I thought perhaps I'd just walk in with Mrs. Marne." + +Mary repressed an inclination to smile. "Certainly, Mr. Maginnis. +Good-bye. I've enjoyed it a great, great deal." And to Pinkney Hare she +added: "You are going over the yacht with us, of course?" + +Mrs. Marne embarked in a shower of farewells. Peter, however, loitered +at the head of the stairs, and the gig waited at the foot of them. +Varney stood at Miss Carstairs's elbow, cool, smiling, controlling the +situation with entire and easy mastery. + +"It occurs to me, Miss Carstairs," he said, "that I should begin our +tour by showing you our sailing-master's wife, Mrs. Ferguson--decidedly +the cultured member of the ship's household. She reads Shakespeare. She +recites Browning. I dare say that she even sings a little Tennyson. You +would enjoy meeting her, I am sure. Will you step around the other side +for a moment?" + +"How exceedingly interesting," murmured Hare, falling in beside them. +"Years ago, I used to read quite a bit of poetry myself." + +The gig still waited at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Marne, waving +upward last adieus to Mary and Varney, called: "Do hurry, Mr. Maginnis. +I'm outrageously late." + +But Peter, who had more important matters than Kant on his mind at that +moment, answered in a low, hurried voice: "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. +Marne--but I _must_ see your brother at once about--a critical matter. +Oh, I say, Hare." + +The candidate, now some distance up the deck with the others, stopped +and looked back. + +"May I have a word with you, please?" + +Hare turned, with only a polite show of reluctance to his host and Miss +Carstairs, and drew near. Politics interested him far more than the +staunchest ship that ever sailed. + +Five minutes later when Varney, having launched Miss Carstairs and the +sailing-master's wife upon a strictly innocuous conversation, came +around the deck-house again, neither the candidate nor his sister was +anywhere to be seen. Peter--he who had engaged to accompany the +lady--stood alone on the sunny deck, staring off at the returning gig, +his great hands clenched in his coat-pockets. He met his friend with a +calm face. + +"It's all over but the shouting," he said. "They've just landed. I told +Hare that there was a plot on against your life--which is very likely +true by the way--said he and I must have a conference at once without +alarming Miss Carstairs. I had to draw it pretty strong, you can bet, to +make him go without telling her good-bye." + +"You've got the letters," said Varney hurriedly. "Go to see Mrs. +Carstairs the first thing--make the explanations. Call up Uncle Elbert +and tell him six-thirty for the carriage at the dock. Be sure to explain +to Hare and Mrs. Marne at once--prearranged visit to her father, kept +quiet for--any good reason." + +"Of course," said Peter. "Well, I must hurry along. I promised to +overtake them in the woods. Oh, the lies I've told in this ten minutes!" + +He turned and picked up his hat and cane to go. + +To Varney, the simple act drove home with great force the stark fact +that he was face to face with his business at last. Peter, holding out +his hand to say good-bye, was struck to speculation by the look of that +eye. + +"Well, good luck, Larry!" + +"In heaven's name--what does that mean?" + +"Hanged if I know," said Peter, frankly. "I'll see you in New York--if +not sooner." With which cryptic observation he clattered down the stairs +to the gig. + +Varney beckoned the sailing-master from the quarter-deck. + +"I am returning to New York, as I told you, Ferguson, with the young +lady, Mr. Carstairs's daughter. Start as soon as possible." + +The sailing-master stared at the deck. "Ready at once, sir." + +Mrs. Ferguson's fondness for classical poetry was no part of any stage +make-believe. Varney, having found her the day before sitting on a coil +of rope with Mr. Pope's _Odyssey_ from the ship's library, had conceived +a veneration for her taste. Now, as he drew near them again, she was +telling Mary that though Tennyson was fine for the purty language, it +was really Browning who understood the human heart. And down in the +engine room they had everything ready for the bell. + +"Have you two settled the poets' hash yet?" asked Varney. "I hope you +didn't make the mistake of preferring Tennyson to Browning, Miss +Carstairs? Thank you very much for entertaining our guest so nicely, +Mrs. Ferguson." + +"What a wonder that woman is!" said Mary, looking back at her as they +walked away. "I had thought that I was rather good at liking poetry, but +she leaves me feeling like the dunce at the kindergarten." + +She turned and looked out over the water, caught anew by the shining +landscape. They stood side by side in the shade of the wide low awning. +Half a mile to their left huddled the town, whither the others were +already on their way; a few hundred yards behind them stood the big +white Carstairs house, handsomely cresting the hill. From many miles to +the northward a breeze danced down the river, and played capriciously +over their faces, and so whisked on about its business. All the world +looked smiling and very good. + +Suddenly a bell tinkled. There was a slight splash, a faint rumble and +quiver. + +Varney laughed. "The passion for poetry," said he, "is a curious and +complex thing. Its origin is shrouded in the earliest dawn of +civilization. It appears in man's first instinctive gropings toward +written self-expression--" + +"Why," said Mary, in sudden surprise, "_we are going!"_ + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +CAPTIVATING MARY + +So Elbert Carstairs's dream had come true, and his daughter was going +home to him at his desire. She stood on his yacht, as truly a prisoner +as though she wore a ball and chain; and the beat of the engines, +already gathering speed, was driving her straight toward that dock in +Harlem whither he, within a very short time, would be driving down to +meet her. + +"Going? Of course we are," said Varney. + +He leaned against the rail and, looking at Mary, almost laughed at the +thought of how easy and simple it was. + +"The point of being on a yacht, Miss Carstairs, is to see her go. +Otherwise, one might as well sit in the den at home and look at pictures +of them in the encyclopedia." + +"But I--didn't expect to go," she said, gazing at him doubtfully--"only +to look around a little. I'm really afraid I haven't time for a sail." + +"Well, you know," he said cheerfully, "as far as looking around is +concerned, going doesn't necessarily take any longer than staying. In +one case, you stay and look around: in the other you go and look around. +That is really all the difference, isn't it?" + +"Well, then, it must be a little go and a short look around. Where does +one begin, in looking around a yacht?" + +It would have been plain to a far duller plotter that they should be +fully clear of Hunston before he explained the situation to her more +definitely. + +"Suppose," said Varney, "we begin with a few general remarks of a +descriptive nature. This vessel, Miss Carstairs, is what is known as a +schooner-rigged steam-yacht. She stands a good bit under a hundred tons. +She is ninety feet long, eighteen feet in the beam and she draws ten +feet--" + +"I don't understand a word of that except ninety feet long, but it all +has a perfectly splendid sound! But where can Mr. Hare be? Please send +for him like a good host, and begin back at the beginning again. He just +told me that yachts interested him intensely." + +"But, unfortunately, Mr. Hare is no longer with us." + +"Not with us? Why--did he _get off_?" + +"He certainly did. He and Maginnis are a great pair, aren't they? Not a +minute to give to pleasure or anything of that sort. I believe they +slipped off to Hare's house for another of their eternal private talks." + +"But--" Mary stared astoundedly. "He _said_ he was going around with us! +I asked him and he accepted. And besides," she went on, rolling up the +count against the unhappy candidate, "he's got my parasol!" + +"We detached that from him before he left. It's around on the other +side. I'll send for it at once." + +But her puzzled frown lingered. "I have known Mr. Hare well for six +years," she said, "and this is the first time I ever knew him to do such +an uncivil thing." + +"It wasn't his fault, depend upon it. Maginnis called him back, you +know, and no doubt hauled him off bodily, positively refusing to let him +pause for good-byes. A man of ruthless determination, is Maginnis." + +She glanced up the deck with vague uneasiness, disquieted by the +unexpected situation. Forty feet away sat the sailing-master's wife +still placidly knitting at her pale blue shawl, the perfect portrait of +secure propriety. The sight of her there was somehow reassuring. + +"So is Mr. Hare, I always believed. But never mind. How fast we are +going already!" + +"Yes, the _C_--this yacht goes fast." + +"What is considered fast for a yacht? How long would it take us to get +to New York?" + +"Three hours. Why not go?" + +A white-clad steward noiselessly approached with her parasol. She took +it and smiled at Varney's idle pleasantry. + +"Thank you, I have too many responsibilities this afternoon. First of +all, we--have a guest at home. Then I simply must go to Mrs. Thurston's +to see about some sewing at five. Last obstacle of all--my mamma! What +would she think had happened?" + +"Don't you suppose that she would guess?" + +"Do you think I'm the daughter of a clairvoyant, Mr. Varney? No, she +would not guess. She would simply stand at the front window in a Sister +Ann position all the afternoon, crying her pretty, eyes red. But--this +is a schooner-something steam-yacht, ninety feet long, I believe you +said. What comes after that?" + +They had left the town dock behind and were scudding swiftly. There was +no longer any reason, even any pretext, for waiting. Every pulse of the +_Cypriani's_ machinery was beating into his brain: "Tell her now! Tell +her now!" + +But all at once he found it very hard to speak. + +"There is time enough for that. There is something that I must tell you +first--in fairness to Hare. The fact is that I--I made Peter take him +away because I wanted to be alone with you." + +The crude speech plainly embarrassed her; she became suddenly engrossed +in examining the carved handle of her parasol, as though never in her +life had she seen it before. + +Varney turned abruptly from her and looked out at the flying shore. + +"Last night," said he, "you may remember that you asked me a question. +You asked me why I objected to accepting help from you." + +"Yes, but that was last night," she interrupted, her instinct instantly +warning her away from the topic--"and you didn't tell me, you know! +Really--we must turn around in two minutes, and so I haven't time to +talk about a thing but yachts." + +"I fear that you must find time." + +"Must, Mr. Varney?" + +"Must. This is a matter in which you are directly concerned." + +She faced him in frank wonderment. "Why, what on earth can you mean?" + +"Now you must! Now you must!" sang the _Cypriani's_ staunch little +engines. + +But he made the mistake of looking at her, and this move betrayed him. +There was no doubt of him in her upturned, perplexed face, no shadow of +distrust to give him strength. His earlier dread of this moment, +strangely faded for a while, closed in on him once more with deadly +force. + +"Don't you see that I am trying to tell you and that I am finding +it--hard?" he said quietly. + +There was a moment's silence; then she said hurriedly: "Of course I am +all in the dark as to what you--are talking about--but tell me another +time, won't you? Not now, please. And oh--meantime," she sped on, with +the air of hailing a new topic with acclaim, "I have something to tell +you, Mr. Varney!--mystery seems to be in the air to-day. You _must_ +hear the strange thing that happened to me this morning. I haven't had a +chance to tell you before." + +"Ah, yes! That mysterious warning." + +He clutched at the respite like a drowning man at straws, though no +drowning man would have felt his sudden rush of self-contempt. + +"Who gave it to you, and what was it about?" + +Free of his hidden restraints, she had quite thrown off the +embarrassment which she had felt settling down upon her a moment +before, and laughed lightly and naturally. + +"It was about coming to this beautiful luncheon to-day--about _not_ +coming, I mean--and it was given to me--don't be angry--by Mr. +Higginson, the old man, you know, who helped you last night." + +"Ah!... Mr. Higginson." + +"Tell me!" she said impulsively, her eyes upon his face--"I saw last +night that you distrusted him--_do_ you know anything about him?" + +With an obvious effort he wrenched his thought from his present urgency, +and brought it to focus upon a puzzle which now seemed oddly like an +echo from a distant past. + +"Not yet," he said, with an impassive face. "But I trust--" + +"Oh, I don't like the way you say that! I don't see how you _can_ be so +suspicious of such a patently well-meaning old dear. And yet--" + +"Well, then, tell me what he said to you and convert me." + +"I suppose I must--I have had it on my mind a little, and you have a +right to know. Yet I don't want to at all! For I must say it seems just +a little to--to support your view. Well, then," she said, some +perplexity showing beneath her smile, "it happened about eleven o'clock +this morning as I was going down the street to see Elsie Marne--never +dreaming of mysteries. I met Mr. Higginson walking towards our house, +and we stopped, so I thought, for a friendly word. For he and I made +friends last night. Oh, you have a right to think I am too free, too +easy, in the way I--I make friends with strangers, and yet really +this--is not like me at all. And there is something very winning about +this old man. Well, he asked me point-blank--begged me--not to come to +your lunch-party to-day. What have you to say to that?" + +He continued to look at her as from a distance, not answering her little +laugh. Behind the grave mask of his face he cursed himself heartily for +his self-absorption of the morning, which had led him entirely to lose +sight of Mr. Higginson's activities last night. He had fully meant to +search out that "winning" old man on his excursion to the town, but in +his engrossment over the more important duty of the day, the matter had +dropped completely from his mind. That the old spy had somehow ferreted +out their secret was now too plain to admit a doubt. But what +conceivable use did he mean to make of it? To interfere with the +_Cypriani's_ homegoing was beyond his power now. Did it better suit his +mysterious purpose to hold back until the thing was done, in order to +raise the dogs of scandal afterwards?... + +For the moment his mind attacked the problem with curiously little +spirit; but one thing at least was instantly clear. He must return to +Hunston to-night, by the first train after his arrival in New York, find +Higginson and call him to his well-earned reckoning. Meantime ... here +was this girl, this daughter of Uncle Elbert, whom the old sneak had for +the second time failed to bend to his mean uses.... + +"But what reason," he said mechanically, "did he give for his rather +unusual request?" + +"He wouldn't give any! That's what makes it all so ridiculous--don't you +see? Naturally I asked, but he only said in his nervous apologetic way +that he wasn't at liberty to tell, but that after last night I ought to +consider whether you--your surroundings were likely to be quite safe. I +said: 'But oughtn't you to give me some idea and, if there is any +danger, warn Mr. Varney and Mr. Maginnis? You can't mean that there is +another plot, involving the yacht this time--the likelihood of a naval +battle on the Hudson?' And then he wrung his hands and said that he +couldn't tell me what he meant, but that I'd certainly regret it if I +came. There! Oh, I _know_ he thought he was doing somebody a +kindness--you and me both, I believe! And yet--that was just a little +creepy, wasn't it?" + +He made no answer to this; hardly heard what she said. Mr. Higginson, +his works and ways, had once more slipped wholly from his mind. +Something in the look of her face, its young trustfulness, its utter +lack of suspicion, had already laid paralyzing hold upon him. Now a new +thought possessed him; and all at once his breast was in a tumult. + +"And yet," he said, with sudden fierce exultation, "_you came_!" + +She colored slightly under his look and tone and, to cover it, gave a +light laugh. + +"Oh, yes.. dauntless person that I am! Have you the remotest idea what +he was talking about?... But oh, really we must turn around now! Indeed +we must--I hadn't noticed how far we have come. And you can show me +things as we go back, can't you?" + +He started at her speech; asked himself suddenly and wildly what was +wrong with him. A better opening for his crushing announcement could not +have been desired. Yet he stood dumb as a man of stone. One blurted +phrase would commit him irrevocably, but his lips would not say it. And +he was glad. + +He stared over the water thinking desperately what this might mean. + +In that first meeting, radiant as it had somehow seemed to him, he knew +that, given this chance, he could have carried his business through +without a quiver. Even last night when, he thought, things to make it +harder had piled one on another like Ossa on Pelion, it would not have +been impossible. Now his lips appeared sealed by a new and overwhelming +reluctance; a resistless weakness saturated him through and through, +seducing his will, filching away his very voice. + +The _Cypriani_ rattled and wheezed, and her speed sharply slackened, but +he did not notice it. His mind fastened on the stark fact of his +impotence like a key in a lock: his heart leapt up to meet it. He turned +slowly and looked at her. + +She leaned lightly upon the rail, her eyes on the water, her lashes on +her cheek like a silken veil. At her breast nodded his favor, the +_Cypriani's_ perfect rose. In her youth, her beauty, and, most of all, +her innocent helplessness, there was something indescribably wistful, +indescribably compelling: it sprang at him and possessed him. Even in +permitting him her acquaintance, she had trusted him far past what he +had any right to expect; and now, with his own sickening game at the +touch, she gave this crowning proof of confidence in him--dashing it +full in the face of the whispering and hinting Higginson, full in his +own face too. Could anything in all the world matter beside the fact +that this girl believed in him, that she had trusted him not only +against convention, not only against his cowardly enemy, but last and +biggest, _against himself?_ + +And she should not be disappointed. His pledge to her father was a +Jephthah's oath, honorable only in the breaking. His mission, all his +hours in Hunston, took changed shape before the eye of his whirling +mind, monstrous, accusing, unbelievably base. Reward that trust with +treachery, that faith with betrayal? Never while he lived. + +Out of his turmoil came peace and light, flooding the far reaches of his +soul. + +In crises thought moves with the speed of light. The young man's mental +revolution was over and done with in a second's time; the pause was +infinitesimal. Almost as she finished her last remark, Mr. Carstairs's +daughter turned from the rail and took a step forward upon the deck, as +though to jog her host toward that promised tour of the yacht which had +now flagged so long. + +"I thought you ought to know this," she was saying, apparently quite +unaware of his descent into the psychological deeps, "though perhaps you +will think it not worth repeating. But before we go on, do tell me +--won't you?--is Mr. Higginson merely--_seeing things_--a sort of +he-Cassandra, you know--or really do you think there is any danger?" + +"No!" answered Varney, so promptly as to give the air of having waited +long for just that question. "There is no danger now, thank God!" + +A heavy step sounded near, approaching. Starting to speak, he broke off, +turned and saw the sailing-master coming towards him. Over the +intervening stretch of deck the two men looked at each other, the master +nervously, Varney victoriously. + +It was one of those critical moments whose importance no one can gauge +until after the time for guaging is past. However, as it fell out, it +was the master who spoke first. + +"Very sorry, sir, indeed," he began, with a curiously uneasy and +hang-dog expression. "The gear's broke down again--in another place. +Couldn't possibly have been foreseen, sir. We can--hem--manage to beat +about without any trouble, but I fear it would not be safe to try to +push on to New York." + +"To New York!" said Mary Carstairs, looking at Varney and laughing at +the man's stupidity. "It certainly would not be safe at all!" + +Even the furtive-glancing sailing-master was conscious of the tide of +gladness that had broken into his young master's eyes. + +"_Put about this instant, man_!" he cried imperiously. "Miss Carstairs +wishes to return to Hunston as soon as possible." + +"Right, sir," stammered the astonished Ferguson, backing away. "At once, +sir." + +Varney met the man's amazement steadily, laughed into it, and so turned +again to his old friend's daughter. She was conscious of thinking that +this was the first _happy_ smile she had seen on his face since the +night when he lit the lamp at Mr. Stanhope's. + +"He seemed nearly stupefied because you weren't going to scold him, did +you notice? I wonder if you are usually very cross with him. But on with +our sightseeing! What is the name of this such-and-such a kind of +steam-yacht?" + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, struggling against his sudden exaltation +for calmness and self-control--"we are both conscious that I owe you an +explanation for--for what of course you must think my very extraordinary +behavior. Believe me, you shall have it very soon. There is nothing in +the wide world--ah--that is, I'd like very much to give it to you now. +But--no, no--it wouldn't be quite right--no--not fair--" + +"You think I am eaten up with feminine curiosity about Mr. Higginson!" +she said, a little hastily. "Oh, I'll show you. Look! Look! We're +turning around already." + +"Don't look there. Look in this general direction now and then, and tell +me what you see." + +"I see," she said, looking anywhere but at him, "the strangest, the +most _volatile_ and--_not_ excepting Mr. Higginson--the most +_mysterious_ man in Hollaston County!" + +"Where are your eyes, Miss Carstairs? You are standing within two feet +of the happiest man in America, and you don't even know it." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +IN WHICH MR. HIGGINSON AND THE SAILING-MASTER BOTH MERIT PUNISHMENT, AND +BOTH ESCAPE IT + +Passing the town-wharf laggingly like the maimed thing she was, limping +nearer and nearer the spot whence she had set out three-quarters of an +hour before, Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ slowed down at an abandoned +private landing--the same one by which Peter's trunk had been conveyed +ashore that morning--and ran out her stairs. + +As the two on board stood watching the yacht make fast, conversing, if +the truth be known, somewhat disjointedly, they were astonished to see +the great form of a man rise from a grassy bed a little way back from +the river-bank and advance towards them. + +"Why, look!" said Mary. "There's Mr. Maginnis! I thought he'd gone to +town long ago." + +Varney did not answer her. His eyes were glued upon Maginnis, and he +called in a strange voice: + +"You have been waiting for us." + +"Haven't budged a step," answered Peter, moving out upon the landing. +And he added what seemed an odd remark to Miss Carstairs: "I knew you +were coming back." + +He greeted Mary at the foot of the stairs, cordially, and begged the +privilege of escorting her to any destination it might be her fancy to +name. But she stoutly declined his good offices, as she had Varney's a +moment before, declaring that she could not think of troubling so busy +and important a man. + +"But where did you spirit Mr. Hare off to, if I might ask?" she said. + +"On a very important mission I assure you, madam,--that is, Miss +Carstairs," said Peter, diplomatically, having no idea how matters +stood. "He begged me to let him go back and say good-bye to you, but I +told him I'd make it a personal matter." + +"I am awfully glad that you have stopped calling me 'madam,'" said Mary, +rather inconsequently. "I _did_ hate it so!" + +And she walked off up the woodland path, swinging her recovered parasol, +and finding herself with a good deal to think about. + +Peter, coming on deck, found his friend waiting for him, taut as a +whipcord. + +"Well, old horse!" said Maginnis. "Welcome back to jolly little +Hunston." + +"The machinery broke down on me," said Varney, turning away to light a +cigarette. + +"Sure," said Peter cheerfully. "You knew it was going to do it when you +started. I read it in your eye when we said farewell forever." + +"You are quite mistaken," said Varney. "Ask Ferguson." + +"Oh! Then you'll do it to-morrow morning, when the machinery is all +right again?" + +"No," said Varney, "nor at any other time." + +The two men looked at each other steadily, unwinkingly. As the look +lengthened, each face gave way to a slow reluctant smile. + +"I won't pretend," said Peter, "that I am disappointed in you. I never +dreamed that I hated this thing till the time came, and hang me if I +don't rather like that little girl." + +"It was a thing," said Varney, "that simply couldn't be done. We were a +pair of asses not to see that all along." He glanced hurriedly at his +watch and started for the companionway. "Jove! I'll have to hustle." + +"Hustle! Where the devil to?" + +"I'm off to New York by the five o'clock train to tell Uncle Elbert that +I've resigned. I'll feel mighty mean doing it, too." + +"Well, don't anticipate trouble," called Peter dryly. "You can't feel +mean by the five o'clock train, however much you may deserve--" + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't any. She goes through at four-seven. You'll have to compose +yourself to wait till eight-ten, unless you want to walk." + +Varney halted at the head of the companionway, surprisingly +disappointed. From the moment when the _Cypriani_ had put about, he had +been insistently conscious that his first duty now was to see Mr. +Carstairs, beg absolution from his promise, and formally surrender his +commission. So only, he had felt, could he go on with clean hands. + +"Well, don't look so glum over it," said Peter. "You're not any sorrier +about your prolonged stay in our midst than I am." + +Varney turned an inquiring eye upon him, and he began walking rather +restlessly up and down the deck. + +"Oh, this same old rot!" he broke out impatiently. "I'll never be easy +in my mind till you are back in New York, and _stay_ there--" + +"Well, well, Peter! Stick it out for three hours more--" + +"Not long after you and Miss Carstairs steamed off," continued Peter, +"Hare blew back down here, tired of waiting and a little excited. He had +just heard some passing whispers about you and me. He says there seems +to be a little suppressed excitement in town this afternoon." + +"Why, I thought your paper had kicked all that nonsense into a cocked +hat." + +"A lot of people don't believe the paper, though," said Peter. "On the +contrary they believe that you are Stanhope and that you bought the +_Gazette_ to disown yourself and save your hide. A foolish idea, but it +has doubtless been helped out by whispers from higher up. Smith's +selling out has made Ryan see red. Smith's still in town, by the way, +which argues a good deal of cool nerve on his part. Hare hears that Ryan +is in a murdering humor--" + +"You seem to forget entirely that Stanhope--the real, the genuine, +double-extry-guaranteed--has appeared, to bear his own--" + +"But Hunston doesn't know it yet!" exclaimed Peter. "Kindly get that +well into your head. All these Hackleys and Orricks still think that +you're their meat--Where're you going?" + +Varney, pausing at the hatch, deliberated whether he should say anything +to Peter about Mr. Higginson's latest and most daring intrusion, and +declared for the negative. "There's no reason," he mused, "why I should +let him in on this. And besides--" + +"To town," he said aloud. "I've got to send a telegram to Uncle Elbert. +He's very much on my conscience--poor old chap!" + +"I'll go with you. Got a Reform Committee meeting at five-thirty. And +some other business." + +But Varney had already disappeared below. Peter picked up his splendid +guitar and, sprawling upon the transom, gave himself up to soft humming +and, presently, to the work of composition. Soon, after some little +painstaking effort, he produced the following, to be rendered to the +tune of "Yankee Doodle": + + The tale of crime is at an end, + For little Laurence Va-arney + Declines to swipe his loidy friend + Upon the _Cypria-a-ani_! + +Peter tried this over to himself with considerable satisfaction. He +possessed a remarkably sweet tenor and pleasurably anticipated singing +his ditty to its hero, and doubtless getting a cushion pitched at his +head for his pains. But it happened that Varney was to go to his grave +without ever hearing that small chanson. + +He came on deck again in five minutes with a face which drove all +thoughts of melody from Peter's head. In fact, at sight of it, he came +instantly to a sitting position and his guitar slid unheeded to the +floor. + +"What's happened?" + +Varney did not answer immediately. He stood at the rail and stared into +the woods with fixed eyes which saw nothing. Peter rose and came towards +him. + +"Out with it!" he said encouragingly. "I'm full partner here. You want +to murder somebody. Well and good! Now who is it?" + +Varney turned towards him, half-reluctantly, and spoke in a quiet voice. + +"I told you just now that the machinery broke down. I was mistaken. It +was broken down." + +"_Broken down?_" + +"When I went below," continued the younger man, "it occurred to me to +look in the engine-room and see how bad the damage was. It was very bad +indeed. I'm no mechanic, Lord knows, but a child could make no mistake +here. The effect is about as if somebody had jammed a crowbar in the +works while she was running full-tilt. Probably that is just what +somebody did. It'll be some days before she'll run again." + +Peter's bewilderment deepened. "What in the world does this mean?" + +"Treachery," said Varney calmly. "Somebody on board has been bought." + +The two men stared at each other. Varney read on Peter's face the swift +unfolding of precisely his own thought. He was rather surprised at +Peter's quickness, in view of the fact that he knew nothing of the +episode of the morning. + +"Yes," he said. "That's the man." + +He told concisely of Mr. Higginson's attempt to break up the lunch-party +by keeping the guest of honor away. Peter's face, as he listened, +underwent a curious change. It first slowly gained color, then slowly +lost it; and all of it, from the top of his forehead to the end of his +chin, seemed subtly to contract and tighten up. + +His comment at the end was: "Excuse me a minute." + +Upon which he vanished below to see with his own eyes and judge with his +own brain. He was back in less than two minutes, with a tiny spot of red +in the corner of his eye, and his manner unwontedly calm. + +"You're right. Pretty clumsy treachery that," he said, standing and +staring at Varney, who had dropped into a chair. "What was the man +thinking about to ... I don't begin to see bottom on this." + +Varney's eyes were on the sailing-master, who sat far forward, feet on +the rail, apparently engrossed in a magazine. The young man had just +recalled the master's curious manner when he notified him of the +accident to the machinery. + +"Larry--you meant to turn around anyway?" + +"But Higginson, you see, couldn't predict that." + +"The immediate cause of your turning--" + +"Was the little mishap to our gear." + +He raised his voice: "Ferguson! I'd like a word with you if you please." + +The sailing-master jumped at the sound of the voice as though it had +shot a projectile into his back. However, he rose at once and came +forward in his usual, brisk, stiff way, halting before the two men with +a salute. Varney eyed him inscrutably. + +"I believe you were in town for a while this morning, Ferguson?" + +"Yes, sir, I was." + +"While there did you chance to see anything of an elderly gentleman, a +stranger here, by the name of Higginson?" + +Though he had the look of being braced for trouble, the man changed +color at the direct question, and his eyes instantly shifted. With an +evident effort he recaptured something like his usual steadiness and +spoke in a voice of elaborate thought fulness. + +"Higginson? No, sir. I know no one of that name." + +"Ah? I thought not. I asked on the mere chance. And oh, Ferguson." + +"Sir?" + +"I have just been down to look at the damaged machinery. Ignorant of +these matters myself, I can naturally make little of it. You will +prepare a written report for Mr. Carstairs, explaining in detail the +nature of the accident, and in particular just how it took place." + +"Very good, sir." + +"And--oh, Ferguson." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"As the--er--mishap appears to be so serious, I think it best to have an +expert from town advise with me before the work of repairing begins. You +will therefore leave matters just as they are until I instruct you +otherwise." + +"Oh--very good, sir." + +Peter turned his dissatisfied eyes from the back of the retreating +sailing-master to Varney. + +"What better proof d'you want than the rogue's face? Why didn't you fire +him on the spot?" + +"I neither hire nor fire here," said Varney. "These are Mr. Carstairs's +employees. He will have to deal with them as he thinks best." + +He rose immediately and put on his hat. + +"With Mr. Higginson, however," he mused, starting for the stair, "the +case is altogether different." + +"Exactly," said Peter with great heartiness. + +As one man they descended the stairs, crossed the battered landing and +struck rapidly up the woodland path for Remsen Street and the town. As +they walked, Varney silently condemned the unfailing genius of the Irish +for intruding themselves into all the trouble that hove upon the +horizon. It was with acute pleasure that he recalled, before long, his +friend's engagement for half-past five. For he himself had but three +hours left in Hunston that day, and he had an urgent use for +them--beyond even Mr. Higginson. + +"I confess once more," said Peter, tramping heavily, "that this chap is +too many for me. I don't seem to grasp his game." + +"And you call yourself a conspirator, Peter! Why, this is ABC." + +"All right. I'm listening. Spell it out for me." + +"Suppose the gang here is deep enough, as you think, to plan a little +rough-house, ostensibly for my benefit, but really to get you into it +and thus wipe you out. Doesn't it occur to you that my fading away to +New York at the critical moment would rather knock the bottom out of the +scheme? Why, it's as clear as noonday! Higginson, learning somehow that +I expected to fly off immediately after the lunch-party, first tries to +break up the party, and failing that, he bribes Ferguson to break up the +machinery. Thus he hopes to make it impossible for me to get away--me +whom he needs in his business as the red rag for his little old mob." + +They had emerged from the woods and walked a block up Remsen Street +before Peter replied. + +"By Jove! That does seem to explain everything! That's it! It's +Higginson, not Smith, who has been pulling all these wires from the +beginning. I suspected the man the first minute I ever clapped eyes on +him. But where do you suppose he got his hint?" + +"Hammerton?" + +"Never. That boy is trustworthy, or I'll eat my hat." + +"Well, I think so too. Then he simply corrupted Ferguson and wormed the +whole thing out of him. Pretty clever, the whole thing, wasn't it? How +much Ferguson may really know, or suspect, I have no idea. Of course, +there is only one thing to fear now, and that is scareheads in the New +York papers to-morrow--attempted kidnapping foiled, and so on. It would +break Uncle Elbert's heart if anything of that sort should come out--" + +"Don't you worry. It won't. I'll close his trap--tight." + +Once more Varney was slightly annoyed by Peter's presence. + +"If we find him," he began, as they came to the square, "you--" + +"We must try not to be brutal, Larry," warned Peter soberly. "I remind +myself that he is an elderly man--" + +"If we find him," began Varney again, "you will please remember that he +belongs to me. Higginson is strictly my pickings." + +Peter grunted, looking rather annoyed too. + +They crossed the square, two determined-looking men, and entered the +Palace Hotel. Behind the desk a bored clerk sat paring his nails with a +pair of office scissors. He looked up with a certain resentfulness. + +"Excuse my interruption," said Varney. "Is Mr. Higginson in?" + +The clerk's glance lowered tiredly. "Naw. Left town on the four-seven." + +"I don't believe it," said Peter instantly. + +There followed a silence. So stern were the gazes fastened upon the +clerk that, looking hastily up at Peter's word, he promptly lost +something of his lordly demeanor and became for the moment almost human. + +"Well, sir, he's left _us_. _Said_ he was takin' the four-seven." + +"Where did he go?" demanded Varney. + +"Don't know, sir, but I think to New York." + +"You must know where he checked his baggage to." + +"Didn't have any baggage, sir," protested the clerk. "Only his +suit-case." + +"Did he leave no address for the forwarding of his mail?" + +"Naw, sir. He did not." + +"Of course not. Why on earth should he?" said Peter. + +Desisting from the absent but fierce stare with which he was transfixing +the clerk, he drew Varney hurriedly aside. + +"All bluff!" he stated positively. "Is it likely, after _his_ day's +work, that he'd be lolling around the lobby waiting for us to call? He's +_moved_! But depend on it, he's got more work to do, and he _hasn't left +town_!" + +"If that's so, where do you recommend looking?" + +Peter made a large gesture. "That's a horse of another color. I told you +he had a faculty for disappearing into a hole and pulling the hole in +after him. If anybody besides Ryan knows where he is, I should say that +it might be Miss Carstairs. She seems to be his only friend on our side +of the fence, since I tipped Hare off." + +Varney all but jumped. "I'll ask her!" he offered almost precipitately. +"The very thing!" + +"It is quite possible," continued Peter, tensely thoughtful, "that the +old rascal has sneaked to her since the luncheon, to try to pump +something out of her about our movements--even within the bounds of +possibility that he is with her at this moment--" + +"A great suggestion!" said Varney cordially. "You certainly have a head +on you, Peter. Of course, on the other hand, it is quite possible that +he _has_ skipped--made a bee-line for Newspaper Row. In that case, I'll +see if she--Miss Carstairs, you know--if she knows his address in New +York, and I'll hunt him up to-night." + +Peter, glancing at his watch, discovered that he was already fifteen +minutes late for his committee meeting. + +"For this afternoon, then," he said, unwillingly, "you can have him, if +you can find him. After to-day, though, he belongs to me. Wherever he is +now, he'll certainly be back on the job to-morrow. Well--I'll leave you, +then. Er--Larry. It's just as well not to be prowling around after dark +by yourself, you know. I'll be back at the yacht early and we'll have +dinner together before your train. Say six-thirty, eh?" + +"I'll be there." + +Peter hurried off for Hare's house with a mingled sense of unjustly +baffled vengeance and vague uneasiness. Varney, drawing a long breath of +relief, headed for the telegraph office, whence he dispatched the +following telegram to Mr. Carstairs: + + "Plan permanently abandoned. Arrive in New York + by train 9.20 to-night. Expect me ten minutes later." + +That done, he started rapidly down Remsen Street with a steadily +mounting spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +VARNEY, HAVING EMBARKED UPON A CRIME, FINDS OUT THAT THERE IS A PRICE TO +PAY + +There was a fine old hedge of box bordering the Carstairs lawn, old +rosebushes inside it and many flowering shrubs. Splendid oaks curtained +the big white house on either side, shading the expanse of close-clipped +turf. At the left, a fountain-sprayer now whirled a mist of water over +the trim grass, and far to the rear a man in rubber boots was hosing off +a phaeton before a carriage house. On the back porch, an elderly cook +was peeling potatoes and gently crooning some old ballad of Erin. + +It was a serene and reassuring scene. Yet upon the spacious piazza, +which undeniably contributed to the pervading air of all's well, the +stunning information came to Varney that the lady of his quest was not +at home. Nor could the maid at the door say where her young mistress had +gone, or with whom, or when she would return. Possibly Mrs. Carstairs +knew, but Mrs. Carstairs was unwell and could not be disturbed. Miss +Carstairs would be sorry to miss him, the kind-hearted girl opined, and +would he please leave his name? + +The young man descended the steps in a state of the flattest depression. +Disappointment, he reflected bitterly, crowded upon the heels of +disappointment on this anticlimactic afternoon which yet should have +been, in a bigger sense, so gloriously climactic. He had missed his +train, and with it his honorable confession to Mr. Carstairs; missed +Higginson; last and worst of all--it seemed to him now that this was all +that mattered in the least--he had missed Miss Carstairs. In sooth, the +world was all awry. + +But at the gate, a thought came to him, radiant as a heavenly messenger. +Miss Carstairs was at her seamstress's on the Remsen road. Had she not +told him with her own lips that she was to be there at this hour? + +He made a _Te Deum_ of the click of the gate, and turned northward a +face which bore record of an inner splendor. + +He had set out to see Miss Carstairs in order to ask of her if she knew +the whereabouts, in Hunston or New York, of the fair-spoken yet elusive +Higginson. But with every step he found the force of this errand +weakening within him. The memory of that gentleman's villany, so burning +a moment since, grew steadily fainter and more inconsequential. Failing +to locate him, he would of course make a precautionary round of the +newspaper offices in New York that night. At the worst, he told himself +with the swift fading of his anger, there was only a remote risk of any +unpleasant aftermath. Why, the thing was over and done with--let +by-gones be by-gones. As for those other matters supposed to be upon his +mind--hints of approaching trouble for himself, and the knowledge of Mr. +Carstairs's bitter disappointment over the collapse of his all but +triumphant scheme--he could not for the life of him give them any +attention whatever. + +A far nearer and more vital matter was pressing upon his mind and heart. + +To tell her everything at the moment when the yacht had swung back and +he had thrown up his commission forever had been his first strong +impulse. He had crushed it down only because he saw that to speak then +was to take her at an ungenerous disadvantage. Now Fortune had sent him +this new meeting, to be untrammeled by any such restraints. No grim duty +governed his movements now; no consciousness of secret chicanery any +longer enfolded him like a pall. Already the thought of what he had +meant to do came back to him hazily, like the plot of a half-forgotten +play. The hobgoblins in a nightmare seemed not more unreal to him now. +His heart sang with the knowledge that he was to see her again, this +time with no shadow between. + +Two nights' rain had left the road dustless: it was silent and empty. +All about him fell the pleasant evening noises of the wood, but he did +not hear them. As he walked, his mind was rehearsing the whole story of +his coming to Hunston, as he was now free to confess it to Uncle +Elbert's daughter. That she would forgive him he never entertained a +doubt. For he would throw himself wholly on her mercy--telling her +everything, painting himself as blackly as he could--and suing for +pardon only because he had failed. + +But when suddenly he saw her, sooner than he had expected, his polished +and elaborate phrases dropped from his mind as cleanly as had the +recollection of the roguery of Higginson. + +It was at that hour when the skies remember the set sun in a gold and +pink glow. A little kink in the road straightened out under his swift +feet, and a small cottage in a fair-sized lawn jumped out of the woods +into vision, almost upon him. On the small square porch, her back to the +road, stood Miss Carstairs, talking through the open window to some one +in the room beyond. + +Varney, having stopped short at the first sudden sight of her, walked on +very slowly. Her voice came to him distinctly, and now and then he +caught scattering words of what she was saying. She wore her blue dress +of the luncheon and the hat which Mrs. Marne, and others, had so +admired; and she gave him the odd impression of being somehow _older_ +than she had ever seemed before.... Yet she was ten years his junior and +three days ago, at this very hour, he had never so much as laid eyes +upon her. + +"I'll come Saturday morning, then," she was saying, "and you'll +certainly have them ready for me, won't you? Good-bye." + +She turned from the window, came towards the steps. At the top of them, +she saw Varney standing at the gate, not twenty yards away, and stopped +dead. Then she came on down the stairs, down the graveled walk towards +him. + +"I'm going away at eight o'clock," he began without greeting, striving +to make his voice casual. "I went to your house first--and--" + +"You--followed me here?" + +"Yes," he said, unsmiling. "I had to see you before I went--on matters +of business--and--" + +She was nearer to him now: for the first time he could see her eyes. In +them lay a faint shadowiness like the memory of shed tears; but sweeping +over that and blotting it out he saw a look which struck him like a +blow. + +"There is nothing for you to see me about, I think--any more," she said +with a little laugh. "The game is up--isn't that what they say in +melodrama? My mother has told me all about it." + +"Your mother has _told you_!" he echoed stupidly, as one to whom the +words conveyed no meaning. + +"She had not expected to see me so soon again, when I went off to lunch +on my father's yacht. The surprise was a little too much for her. You +must try to forgive her," said Mary, and punctuated the observation with +a small, final bow. "Will you open the gate for me?" + +"No," said Varney, pulling himself sharply together. "Not like that." + +The shock of her voice and look, even more than her words, had been +stunning in their first unexpectedness. But now he remembered, with +infinite relief, that of course she did not understand the matter at +all; of course she would speak and look very differently when he had +made his explanation. + +"You think," Varney said, "that I _mind_ your knowing about our poor +little plot--that I am found out and my plans are all upset? How on +earth could you think that? Why, that's all like something in another +life. Don't you know what my being here at this moment means? The thing +is all over, Miss Carstairs--all past and done with an hour before you +ever saw your mother. I gave it up voluntarily. When the time came, just +now on the yacht, I found out that it was impossible--unthinkable--I +couldn't do it. The game was up then. That is one thing that your mother +could not tell you, and it was to tell you this, and all the rest of it, +that I followed you here." + +She stood on the other side of the gate, hardly an arm's length from +him, looking at him; a figure so pretty, so dainty, so extremely +decorative that she seemed incapable of giving anything but pleasure. +But in the eyes that met his own so unwaveringly, he read at once the +contradiction of this. + +"Yes, I suppose that would always be the way, wouldn't it?--that +whenever I found out, you were just going to tell me?" + +If she had searched her mind for a way to strangle his headlong +self-defence, she could not possibly have done it more effectually. +There followed a horrible pause. + +"You mean ... that you do not believe me?" + +"In the little while that I have known you, have you given me much +reason to?" + +"Can't you see that that is exactly the reason I wanted to tell you all +the truth now?" + +"Why did you wait till _now_? Weren't there chances to tell me this +afternoon on my father's yacht? But--there's no use to speak of all +this. It is enough that I know it now." + +He was aware that her voice had lost that hard and polished lightness +with which she had first struck at him; on this last sentence, he +thought that it trembled a little; and in a flash, he saw the whole +matter from her side of it, and for the moment ceased to think about +himself. + +He leaned his arms upon the green panel of the gate and looked down at +her. + +"Don't think that I blame you for not taking my word. Probably I +couldn't expect it. We can't very well argue about that.... And of +course I have known all along--how you would feel about me, when you +found out what I came here to do. I was ready for that--ready for you to +be angry. But I don't seem to have taken it in that you would be ... +hurt. That makes it a good deal worse." + +She made no reply. She had lowered her heavy-fringed eyes; her slim, +gloved hands were busily furling and unfurling her white parasol. + +"There is nothing in this that need hurt you. Believe me in this, at any +rate. Only three people are concerned in it. You will have no doubt of +your mother. That she told you shows how impossible it was to her, even +with Uncle Elbert wanting you so much. You will not mind about your +father--not in any personal way. He is a stranger to you. That leaves +only me." + +Still she said nothing. It seemed to him that he had never looked at so +still a face. + +"For me, I might make you angry as any--acquaintance might--any +stranger. But that is all. It is not ... as if we had been friends." + +She raised her eyes, and the look in them seemed to give the lie to +every word he had said. + +"What do you call a friend? Did I not trust you--put myself in your +power--fall confidingly in with your hateful plot--after I had been +plainly warned not to? Oh, if I had only listened to Mr. Higginson, I +should not have the humiliation of remembering that--hour on the yacht!" + +The name stung him into instant recollection. He stood staring at her, +and his face darkened. + +In the first staggering revelation of her look, his sub-conscious mind +had leapt instantly to the conclusion that his cunning enemy, having +found out his secret, had betrayed it to Miss. Carstairs. Her first +words had disposed of that. It was the tortured mother, not the +professional sneak, who had been before him with his explanation. But +now it rushed over him that he had an infinitely deeper grudge against +the vanished spy. For it was Higginson, with his bribe-money, who had +broken down the yacht; Higginson who would, in any case, have forced the +return to Hunston; Higginson who had given this girl the right to think, +as she did think, that she owed her escape wholly to an "accident" to +the machinery. + +He had thought that he had saved Uncle Elbert's daughter from himself, +and lo, his enemy had plucked the honor from him. The world should not +be big enough for this man to elude his vengeance. + +"You mention Mr. Higginson. Where is he?" + +She glanced at him, impersonally, struck by the unconscious sternness of +his voice. + +"I do not know, but I am most anxious to see him--to thank him--" + +"I am told that he left town at four o'clock. Perhaps you know his +address in New York?" + +"I do not," she answered coldly. "No doubt he went away hurriedly ... +frightened of you because of his kindness to me." + +She came a step forward to the gate. Instantly his thought veered back +to her and his tense face softened. + +"How can I blame you," he said hurriedly, "for thinking the worst of me? +I've been thinking badly enough of myself, God knows. But don't you +know, can't you imagine, that nothing could have held me to the +miserable business a single moment after I saw you, had I not been bound +by a solemn promise to your poor father?" + +"My father! Oh, if he is the sort of man to plot a thing like this, and +to bludgeon my mother into it, how could you endure to _promise_ to do +it for him?" + +"Because he is breaking his heart for you, and you didn't know it. It +seemed right that he should see you, since he wants to so much." + +All her sense of the wrong he had done her flared up in anger at that. +"How do _you_--_dare_ say what seems right between my father and me? He +is breaking his heart for me, he told you? Did he mention to you that +she had _broken_ hers for him? Don't you suppose that I have had +time--and reasons--to decide which of them I belong to?" + +"All this," he said, "was before I knew you." + +About them hung the stillness of the country and the long empty road. +The woods stirred; a bird called; a portly hare poked his nose through +the brush over the way, and suddenly scuttled off, his white flag up. In +Mrs, Thurston's yard, the quiet was profound. + +"All his life," said Mary Carstairs, "my father has thought about +nothing but himself. I am sorry for him--but he must take the +consequences of that now. If he is lonely, it is his own making. If my +mother has been lonely till it has almost killed her, that is his doing, +too. For you--there was never any place in this. As for me, I owe him +nothing. He must beg my mother's forgiveness before he shall ever get +mine." + +She came forward another half-step and laid her hand upon the gate-latch +with a movement whose definiteness did not escape him. + +"You may take back that answer from me if you wish. And so, good-bye." + +"Not good-bye," said Varney, instantly. "You must not say that." + +"I am quite sure that I have nothing else left to say." + +Her eyes went past him over the gate, out into the wood beyond. Dusk was +falling about them; it shaded her face, intangibly altered it, made it +for the moment almost as he had known it before. She looked very young, +and tired. This was the picture of her, and he knew it then as he looked +at her, that he would carry with him to the longest day he lived. + +"Is it nothing to you," he cried in a rush, "that when the time came I +couldn't do it? The yacht's breaking down had nothing in the world to do +with it. I had already decided to turn back, to break my promise. That +the--accident happened just then was only a wretched chance. I was going +to put about at that moment." + +She hesitated almost imperceptibly, seemed for a brief second to waver. +But perhaps she dared not let herself believe him now: perhaps the +strongest wish of her heart was to hurt him as deeply as she could. + +"To say the least," she said with a little deliberate movement of +distaste, "your coincidences are unfortunate. You--won't mind if I go on +being grateful to the--_gear_?" + +Under that crowning taunt, his self-restraint snapped like an +overstretched bow-string. + +"You shall not say that. You shall not. Miss Carstairs, you _know_ I +could have kept you on the yacht if I had wanted to. You _know_ how I +gave the order to put about and bring you back to Hunston. Did I look in +the least then like a man whose hopes and plans had been ruined? You +know I did not. You know I said to you that I--I was the happiest man in +America. Will you tell me what on earth that could mean--except that I +had decided to give up a thing that has been a millstone around my neck +ever since--I met you?" + +She made no reply, did not look at him. The dusk shadowed her eyes; and +whether her silence meant good or ill he could not tell. + +"You cannot answer, you see. We both know why. You will not be fair to +me, Miss Carstairs. It is that night in the Academy box-office over +again. Because I _had_ to deceive you once--not for my own sake--you +will not look at the plain facts. But in your heart--just like that +other night--_I know you believe me."_ + +Of course she could not let that pass now. "I do not!" she said. "I do +not. I must ask you, please, not to keep me here any longer." + +Varney's face went a shade paler. Arguing about his own veracity was +even less bearable than he had thought; his manner all at once became +singularly quiet. + +"The merest moment, if you will. I can prove what I say," he answered +slowly, "but of course I won't do that. You must believe what _I_ say, +believe _me_. Nothing else matters but that.... Don't you know that it +took a very strong reason to make me break faith with my old friend, +your father--to make me stand here begging to be believed, like this? +You have only to look at me, I think. Don't you know that I couldn't +possibly deceive you now ... after what has happened to me?" + +"I don't know what you mean. I don't understand. Don't tell me. Nothing +has happened ..." + +"Everything has happened," he said still more quietly. "I've fallen +crazily in love with you." + +She did not lift her eyes; neither moved nor spoke; gave no sign that +she had heard. He went on slowly: + +"This--might be hard to believe, except that it must be so easy to see. +I've known you less than three days, and I never wanted to--even like +you. My one idea was to think of you as my enemy. That was what Maginnis +and I agreed--plotting together like a pair of nihilists. It all seems +so preposterous now. Everything was against me from the beginning. I +wouldn't face it till to-day, this afternoon. Then it all came over me +in a rush, and, of course, your happiness became a great deal more to me +than your father's. So we turned around, and it was then that I told you +how happy I was. Didn't you know then what I meant? Of course it was +because I had just found out ... how you were the one person in the +world who mattered to me." + +There was a long silence. It deepened, grew harder to break. Little +Jenny Thurston, watching these two through an upstairs shutter, marveled +what adults found to say to each other in these interminable colloquies. +A young cock-sparrow, piqued by their stillness, alighted on the fence +near by and studied them, eye cocked inquisitively. + +"Of course, I'm not--asking anything," said Varney. "About this, I mean. +I am answered, and over-answered, already. But ... do you believe now +that I--voluntarily gave it up?" + +"Oh," said Mary, "you--you must not ask me that. You must not talk to me +like this. I did trust you once--fully--when you were almost a stranger; +last night--and then this afternoon--" + +"Do you believe me," said Varney, "or do you not?" + +Her lower lip was trembling very slightly, and she set her white teeth +upon it. The sudden knowledge that she was near to tears terrified her, +goaded her to lengths. She gathered all her pride of opinion and young +sense of wrong and frightened feminine instinct, for a final desperate +stand; and so flung at him more passionately than she knew: "How many +times must I tell you? _I do not! I do not_!" + +Varney gave her a last look, stamping her face upon his mind, and took a +step backward from the gate. + +"Then," said he ... "this is good-bye, indeed." + +Presently Mary raised her eyes. He had turned southward, toward the +town, but at a pace so swift that he was already far down the road. A +jutting curve came soon, and he vanished behind it, out of her sight. + +Dusk was falling fast on the wood now. The green of the trees deepened +and blackened, turning into a crooked smudge upon the sky-line. The road +fell between them like a long gray ribbon. Nothing was to be seen upon +it; nothing was to be heard but the rustle of the early night wind and +the pleasant sounds of the open road. + +Varney's mind as he walked, was a blank white wall. He had forgotten +Elbert Carstairs, forgotten the train he was to take, forgotten even the +unendurable injury that Higginson had put upon him. His one blind +instinct had been to get away as quickly and completely as possible. But +now, slowly, it was borne in upon him that he knew this road, that he +had walked it once before like this, at the end of the day. His first +night in Hunston--he remembered it all very well. It must have been +just here--or here--that the rain had caught him, and he had gone on to +meet _her_. + +The cottage which had sheltered them that night must be close at hand. +His eyes, which had been upon the ground, lifted and went off down the +road. They fell upon the dark figure of a man, shuffling slowly along in +the gloom, not twenty yards ahead of him. + +He was an old man, shambling and gray-whiskered, and stooped as he +walked. If he was aware that another wayfarer followed close behind, he +gave no sign. Suddenly he stopped short with a feeble exclamation, and +began peering about the ground at his feet. The young man was up with +him directly, and his vague impression of recognition suddenly became +fitted to a name. + +"Orrick?" + +The bowed form straightened and turned. Through the thickening twilight +the two men looked at each other. + +"You were not by any chance waiting for me?" + +The darkness hid old Orrick's eyes; he shook his head slowly a number of +times. "I passed you when you was at Miz Thurston's, sir. I can' walk +fas' like you can." And he bent down over the road again. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Varney. "Have you lost something?" + +"Los' my luck-piece," said the other, slowly, not looking up. "I was +carryin' it in my hand 's I come along an' it jounced out. A 1812 penny +it was an' vallyble." + +He cut rather a pitiful figure, squatting down in the dirt and +squinting about with short-sighted old eyes; and Varney felt +unaccountably sorry for him. + +"I wouldn' los' my luck-piece for nothin'," he added, dropping to his +knees. "I'm a kind of a stoop'sitious man, an' I allus was." + +"Perhaps I can help you; my eyes are good." + +He went back a step or two, bending down and scrutinizing the brown +earth. Orrick, presently announcing that the coin might have rolled, +made a slow way across the road on his knees, patting the ground with +his hand as he moved. Near the edge of it, half in the woods, lay a +thick piece of split firewood, long as a man's arm and stouter. The +knotted old fingers stealthily closed on it. + +"It could n't have rolled far on this soft road," said Varney presently. +"Just where do you think you dropped it?" + +Sam Orrick rose behind his stooping figure with upraised club, a blaze +of triumph in his sodden old eyes. + +"There!" he cried with a senseless laugh. "It's _there_, Stanhope!" + +The club fell with a thud; and Varney, meeting it as he straightened up, +toppled over like a log, face downward. + +Old Orrick stared down at the prostrate figure, and presently touched it +with his tattered foot. It did not stir. His fierce joy died. He looked +about him apprehensively, and his eye fell at once upon a dim-lit +cottage off the road just back of him. _His_ cottage--how had he +forgotten that? Was that dark thing--a man--standing there at the gate? +Suddenly a great terror seized the old man. He threw his stick into the +woods and slunk away, toward the town. A loud yell from behind brought +his heart to his throat, and he broke into a wild, lumbering run. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +MR. FERRIS STANHOPE MEETS HIS DOUBLE; AND LETS THE DOUBLE MEET +EVERYTHING ELSE + + +In the new-made study of his Remsen road cottage, Ferris Stanhope, +Hunston's returned celebrity, sat under a green-shaded lamp and frowned +down at a sheaf of his own neat manuscript. Behind him, in a corner, +books and various knick-knacks lay spilled over the floor around an open +trunk. The room was, in fact, in the litter incident to getting to +rights. But this did not act as a stay on the great man's habit of +industry, which happened to be of the most persistent variety. + +The study blinds were drawn, and the rest of the house was in darkness. +The author noted three emendations upon his manuscript, made three more. +Then, with a muttered exclamation, he stripped off the interlined sheet +altogether, tore it into shreds, threw the shreds on the floor and +reached for a pad of white paper. At that moment he became aware of +footsteps and heavy breathing in the hall, and looked up inquiringly. + +His man-servant, Henry, was standing in the doorway, the long limp body +of a man in his arms. + +Mr. Stanhope sprang hurriedly to his feet. In his face the servant saw +that same odd look of fleeting anxiety which he had noted there when +they descended from the train that morning. + +"In the name of heaven--what have you there?" + +"Harskin' your pardon, sir," gasped Henry, staggering into the room, +"I'm honcertain whether 'e 's kilt or not. Struck down from behind by an +old codger with long 'air and gray whiskers. Hi was at the gate--" + +"But what do you mean by hauling the carcass in here? Do you think I'm +running a private morgue?" + +Henry, who had been in his present employment a bare month, came to a +wobbly pause, surprised. The body grew very heavy in his stout arms. Now +the man's head slid off Henry's shoulder and tumbled backwards, hanging +down in the full glow of the lamp. + +"Hi thought, sir--" began the servant with panting dignity. + +"O my God!" said the author suddenly. + +Henry, who had not had a look at his burden, misunderstood. + +"Ghastly sight, hain't it, sir--that bloody gash on 'is 'ead?" + +"Quick! Put him on the sofa.--Now some water." + +The servant, whose limbs were numb from the long carry, obeyed with +alacrity. But returning hurriedly with the water, he was met at the door +by his perverse master, who took the glass from his hands with the curt +announcement that that would do. + +Henry looked as displeased as his subservient position made advisable. +"Hif you please, sir, I have quite a 'and with the hinjured and--" + +"He's only stunned," said his master impatiently. "I 'll attend to him +myself." + +And he banged the door in the servant's face. + +The man lay on the lounge precisely as Henry had happened to place him, +his averted face half buried in the pillows. Investigation showed that +he had no bloody gash on his head: that was Henry's imagination. There +did not, in fact, seem to be a mark on him beyond three small scratches +on his forehead. + +Stanhope put his hand under the chin and turned it toward him, none too +gently. For a full moment he stood motionless, staring down at that +white face so like his own. Then he dipped his hand in the glass, and +splashed a handful of water upon the closed eyes. + +At the first touch of it, the still figure of the injured man stirred +with faint signs of returning consciousness. Far down in a black and +utter void, he sensed the first glimmer of distant light. Slowly, +slowly, the glimmer grew. The silence within gave place to a vast +roaring in his ears and indescribable pain in his head; and the dull +glow which had seemed to him the shining frontier of some far new world +whither he was gratefully journeying, resolved itself into a circle of +greenish light. + +"Drink this," said a soft but peremptory voice. + +He drank, incuriously; and the fiery liquid ran to his head and heart +and shot new life into his dead limbs. But the more his lost strength +came back to his body, the more he was aware of the terrible pain in his +head. It occurred to him vaguely that when once he opened his eyes, +which he would have to do some time, there would be a horrible explosion +and his head would go off like a sky-rocket. + +"You feel better now," asserted rather than inquired the voice. + +"Much. Thanks to you. It's only--my head. Something seems to be wrong +with it, a little." + +"Somebody hit you there with a club, from behind. You remember now, +don't you? Who was it?" + +"I don't know," said Varney wearily. + +"Oh, come! Your head isn't as bad as all that--there's not even a bump +on it. Think a moment. An old man, with long hair and gray whiskers. You +must know who it was." + +Varney pressed his hand upon his racking forehead. "Oh! So it was +he--then. Poor old Orrick." + +The author's face lost something of its color. "Orrick!... What--what +has this fellow got against you?" + +Varney did not answer. The name had started remote memories to working, +and, very slowly, returning comprehension advanced to meet them. He and +old Orrick had been standing together on a woodland road. They were +hunting for something. An 1812 penny and valuable. That was it. Before +that, he had stood a long time near a green gate somewhere, looking at a +pair of dark-blue eyes. He remembered distinctly what merciless eyes +they were, though something in a far corner of his mind recalled that he +had once, oddly enough, associated them with pleasant things. Then, +like one rounding a sharp corner in a driveway, his memory came face to +face with everything; and he turned his head to the wall. + +But there was no escape from that insistent voice, so eager for an +explanation. A hand fell upon his shoulder, shook it almost roughly. +"Don't let yourself drop off again. Here! You want another drink?" + +"No, I'm quite all right now--thank you." + +To prove it, and to make ready to get away where he could be quiet, he +performed the herculean task of opening his eyes. A tall man was bending +over him, an anxious expression on his handsome face. More than the +liquor, more even than the jostling hand upon his shoulder, the look of +that face, so strange yet so familiar, braced Varney to action. + +The two pairs of gray-blue eyes, so oddly matched in tint and shape, +stared into each other steadily. Presently Varney dragged his feet +around to the floor, with difficulty, as was natural to their thousand +tons of weight, and taking hold of a chair pulled himself up on them. He +raised his hands, slowly and cautiously, to his head. Good! It was still +there. The impression that it had left his shoulders and was floating +around in the air a foot or two above them thus turned out to be an +illusion. + +"There!" he heard the author saying briskly. "A little effort was all +you needed, as I thought." + +"That was all. Thank you. You must have pulled me in from the road, +didn't you? It was very kind. You have just arrived in Hunston--I +believe?" + +"I came only this morning," his good Samaritan replied. "In the nick of +time, it seems, to be of assistance. And you?" he added, with a slight +bow. "You are a native here, perhaps?" + +"Do you remember me," asked Varney quietly, "when you were here twelve +years ago?" + +Mr. Stanhope selected a cigarette from a large open box on the table, +lit it carefully, took several long inhalations. "No," he said easily. +"But for that matter, I fear that I remember few of my boyhood +acquaintances in Hunston. But--this man--Orrick, you said?--has there +been bad blood between you two for some time then?" + +"No," said Varney, simply. "He struck me, I believe, because he thought +I was you?" + +"_What_!" cried the author with overdone surprise. + +"I am glad--to meet you so soon after your arrival," continued Varney. +"Some one should tell you that your boyhood acquaintances have longer +memories. You came here for your health, I believe? I think you might do +well to leave for the same reason." + +Stanhope's eyes became little slits behind his trim glasses. "What do +you mean by these extraordinary remarks?" + +Varney, whose brain seemed to have changed into a ball of shooting pains +and brilliant fireworks, endeavored to think out clearly just what he +had meant by his extraordinary remarks. + +"Possibly you think that I resemble you somewhat?" he said, slowly. "A +number of people here seem to hold that view. In fact, they have +mistaken me for you--everybody has. Doubtless you know why they should +feel unkindly towards you. I make myself perfectly clear, do I not? Only +this afternoon I heard that a little party was being gotten together for +my benefit." + +The author dropped his nervous-looking eyes; he tugged uncertainly at +his wisp of a mustache. + +"This thump on the head from poor old Orrick may satisfy them," +continued Varney. "But my idea is that it won't. I think Orrick was +acting independently this afternoon. A kind of free lance, you know. I +think he met me by accident. There's a train to New York at eight-ten," +he added, looking about for his hat. "I believe I'd clear out if I were +you." + +"Something's back of this!" broke out Stanhope suddenly. "Some dirty +scheme--some infamous plot--" + +"Yes, you are right," said Varney with an effort. "There is a plot back +of it. But I don't know that that makes it any better for you--" + +"I insist that you explain yourself at once!" + +"I was just about to. I came here three days ago, a stranger--on a +little stay. A friend who is with me got interested in a reform movement +here. Politics, you understand. The other side to injure him, published +the story that I was you, under an _alias_. Naturally we didn't like +that. We bought the paper just to say that I wasn't. I supposed that had +settled it. It seems I was wrong. You see, a good deal of feeling had +been worked up meantime--" + +"Hello!" exclaimed Stanhope suddenly raising his hand. "What's that?" + +Varney listened. "Men's voices," he said slowly. + +The door flew open and a man whose ordinary impassivity was touched with +a pleasurable excitement stood on the threshold. + +"If you please, sir, there's some rough-looking men just sneaked up on +the lawn. Ten or twelve--sort of a mob-like, Hi should say--" + +"What do they want?" demanded Stanhope in a high voice. + +"No good, sir, I'm thinking," said the servant shaking his head. "I was +at an upstairs window and saw 'em come sneaking up one by one, hentering +at different places. I made a noise not honlike the click of a 'ammer of +a gun, and they took alarm and scattered back. But they hain't gone +away, sir. Not by a long shot they hain't." + +Henry's master leaned against his handsome writing table, his face white +as a sheet. It appeared to be a moment when quick action was rather +important. + +"They'll try the bell first," said Varney. "Lock all the doors and +windows downstairs, my man. Quick! When they ring, open a window +upstairs, and ask what they want." + +Henry recognized the note of competent authority. He assumed, anyway, +that it was the strange gentleman's quarrel they had so fortunately been +let into, and it was only fair that he should manage it. "Very good, +sir," he said and flew. + +"But I'm afraid," added Varney to Stanhope, "there is no doubt what they +want." + +A single quiet footfall sounded on the porch and the door-bell pealed. +In the silence that followed, the noise of the turning of locks and the +drawing of bolts was distinctly audible in the study. + +"Damn you!" cried Stanhope, pale with the sudden white-hot passion of +the unstable. "This is your doing--you--you masquerader!" + +The two men stood facing each other, hardly a yard apart. They were +almost exactly of a figure, Stanhope being if anything a shade the +taller. Each was conscious as he regarded the other that he might be +looking at himself, intangibly altered, in a mirror; and the fancy was +pleasing to neither. + +"I suppose I might as reasonably call you that," said Varney quietly. "I +might as reasonably say that this knock on the head from Sam Orrick was +your doing. The fact is that you were a fool to come back here. But as +for those poor fellows out there--" + +The door-bell rang again, insistently, and he broke off. A window +upstairs rattled open, and they heard a man's steady voice: + +"'I there on the piazza! What do you want?" + +"I want to see Mr. Stanhope a minute," called a thicker voice from +below. "On important business." + +"'E's not 'ere," said faithful Henry. "'E's expected to arrive +to-morrow." + +"You're a ---- ---- liar!" + +Immediately a general yelling arose, from farther back in the darkness. +Diplomacy, it seemed, was about to be abandoned for immediate action. +But over the sudden hubbub, that cool voice at the window rang out +again: + +"Hif it's fight you want, Hi'll say we were expectin' you. There's ten +of us 'ere, hall armed--" + +A derisive voice was heard in answer. "We'll see about that, my buck, +pretty--soon--" + +"Men! Hi've got a brace of six-shooters 'ere in my 'and. The first of +you as comes into the light gets a couple of 'oles drilled into 'is +hinside, neat and clean." + +Having launched this threat from his inky window to gain a little time, +Henry silently withdrew, flung downstairs and broke into the study, his +scrape and bow forgotten, to inquire whether either of the gentlemen +had, in Gawd's mercy, hanythink that would shoot. + +His master, whose well-kept hands were opening and shutting by his side, +did not answer. + +"No," said Varney, "I am unarmed." + +"Heven without a gun, sir," said Henry to Stanhope, and his look was not +such as a servant wears to his master, "we could lick a harmy of them +chaps." + +"We could never do it!" cried Mr. Stanhope shrilly. + +The shouting outside, though still a discreet distance back, grew more +articulate. Very fearful were their menaces. + +"Come out, Stanhope! Your time's come!" + +"We'll string yer to a tree, yer----" + +"Fellers, let's burn the damn rat out!" + +Stanhope's face went from white to pale green. He steadied himself +against the table with a hand that quivered, and looked at Varney. + +"It's--it's you they want," he said. + +"O my Gawd," cried Henry and put his face into his hands. + +"Yes," said Varney, averting his eyes also, "it's I they want." And he +started for the door. + +But Henry, who had noted the marked resemblance between the two men and +had caught faint glimmerings of what these strange things meant, barred +his way with an immortal rejoinder. + +"Hif you please, sir, Stanhope was the name they called." + +Varney gave a tired laugh. His terrible headache made him chafe at any +prolonging of the scene. Moreover, it made rational thought difficult, +twisting common-sense into fanciful shapes. It seemed to him an +unendurable thing that he should protect himself under the wing of such +a man as Stanhope; and the thought of fierce action drew him like a +lodestone. + +"You're a good fellow, Henry," he said quietly. "However, your master +and I agree perfectly." + +But at that moment, the small window at the back of the room, which no +one had thought to fasten, flew open and a man slipped nimbly through +it--a big, hard-breathing, iron-faced man, with perspiration streaming +rivers down his sun-tanned cheeks. + +Mr. Stanhope, with a weak exclamation, moved so as to bring the table +between himself and the intruder. Varney's eyes grew suddenly anxious. + +"Thank God, you're safe, Larry!" gasped Peter, looking hurriedly about +him, and characteristically asking no questions. "Four of us! +Magnificent! We can hold this room for a year against those drunken +sheep...." + +The din outside grew deafening. One man, braving Henry's threat, had +made a bolt across the star-lit space to the house, and no shot had rung +out from the upstairs window. Others had instantly followed, and the +little front porch now echoed under many feet. Yet, boisterous as they +were, the mobbers seemed to hesitate at taking the front door at a rush, +as though fearful of what reception might await them in the dark and +silent hall beyond. + +But now a stone crashed through a front window downstairs, and a man's +voice rang out suddenly so close that it seemed to be inside the parlor: + +"One minute to come out fair in the open, Stanhope, or we'll set a light +to this house, so help us God!" + +Mr. Stanhope gave a low cry. "Call to them, Henry!" he ordered, wildly. +"Quick! Tell them I'm coming out this minute." + +Henry, his back against the door, did not stir. + +"_Hare_ you goin' out, sir?" + +"No," said Varney, "he isn't. But I am." + +Peter came further into the pretty room, impatient eyes fixed on Varney. +"What fool's talk is this?" he demanded roughly. "Nobody is going out. +We four--" + +Another loud crash of broken glass drowned him out. In Varney's eye the +look of anxiety had deepened. He understood everything at a glance. +Adroit proddings of a few poor Hackleys, some cheap liquor, the word +passed to Maginnis as from a friend--this was how the boss of Hunston +had plotted to set his heel upon Reform and stamp it out forever. He +came three steps back into the room, sternly. + +"You were a monumental fool to let them send you here, Peter--" + +But the swelling tumult without made parley out of the question. + +"No time for talk!" roared Peter. "It's fight now--before they are in on +us! Lights out--and to the front, all of us!" + +"Right hoh!" cried Henry, man to man, and ran out the door. + +"No, no!" protested Mr. Stanhope thickly, "it is n't fair--" + +Peter wheeled and looked at him, personally, for the first time. He had +recognized him instantly, and now when he saw what he saw on that sickly +green face, his fine eyes hardened. + +"Four, I said? I see there are only three men here. No matter--three +good ones are more than enough. Larry, stay here! I'll take the front +door--the man the front windows--" + +But Varney blocked his way to the door with a face more resolute than +his own. + +"Stand back, Peter. We'll do nothing of the sort. Those are Ryan's men +out there. They don't want Mr. Stanhope--you know that. I don't like +this place anyhow--I'm going to get out--" + +"I'll sizzle in hell if you do!" bellowed Peter, and violently pinioned +his arms. + +But Stanhope, clutching at the chance, struck again for the safety of +his skin. "He ought to go," he cried swiftly. "It is n't my +quarrel--don't you see? Let go his arm there--you bully!--let him go!" + +The shock of that, curiously, surprised Peter into complying. He +dropped Varney's arms, turned swiftly to the author and fixed him with a +look for which, alone, another man would have cried for his blood. "Did +I hear you aright?" he said in an oddly still voice. "Do I understand +you to suggest that he be sent out there alone?" + +Mr. Stanhope shrank before that look, but this was the utmost concession +to it. + +"It's not my quarrel," he said moistening his lips--and suddenly, +glancing over Peter's shoulder, his eyes lit with a frightened gleam of +triumph. "It's he they--" + +Over the shouting a single hoarse cry rang out very close at hand. + +"Curse you for the cowardliest dog God ever made!" cried Peter, his +passion breaking its thin veil of calmness like a bullet. "If you +interfere in this, you'll not hide afterward where I'll not find you. +Larry! You'll--" Peter turned and broke off short with an exclamation +which was a good deal like a groan. + +Varney was not there. Taking advantage of Peter's momentary distraction, +he had slipped through the door and fled down the hall. + +Shaken with the rushing sense of his friend's danger, Peter started +wildly for the door. But in that fraction of a second, the lamp on the +center table was blown suddenly out and he found himself in inky +darkness. At the same moment something thrust itself dexterously between +his moving legs and he fell heavily to the floor. Falling he struck out +blindly, and his whirling fist collided with something warm and soft. +The next instant he was up and groping madly for the door, his sense of +direction all gone from him. But the author lay where he had fallen, +quite still, and, for the moment, afraid no longer. + +The moment's gain, however, was all that Stanhope needed, though it was +no more. In the dark hall where a single candle burned, Varney had met +Henry. The instant before, a man's head and shoulders had protruded +suddenly through the broken-in parlor window, and Henry, waiting +patiently in the shadow of the wall had flatted him to the floor with a +heavy chair, which broke in his hands. Then he heard swift footsteps in +the hall, and divining what had happened, bounded out. + +"Stand clear, man!" cried Varney loudly. "I'm going out." + +A prolonged shouting indicated that the promise was heard with approval +outside. But not so with Henry, who closed in on him fiercely, crying: +"Not hon your bloomin' life, you don't--harskin' your pardon, sir!" + +Varney, however, was a thing of nerves and passion now, all energy and +muscle and concentrated purpose. He shook the man off like a rat, and +the next moment burst open the front door. + +All this had happened far more quickly than it can be set down. Five +minutes had hardly passed since Henry's first challenge had rung from +the upstairs window. This would have been ample time to carry the house +by storm, front and back, had the invaders had the leadership and wit; +but these things they lacked. They were still massed on the front porch, +pell-mell, in a turbulent group, ramping, raging, thirsty for action, +but as yet ineffective; though one of them had at that moment set a +match to a torch of newspapers and kindling wood. Delay had loosed the +hunter's instinct in the half-drunken band: it broke into flame at sight +of the quarry. Varney had scarcely shown himself in the half-opened door +when some one struck him a savage blow on the chin that sent him reeling +backwards. + +He had come out to them with no plan, no sense of hostility, and only +because, in his disturbed mood, he despised Stanhope so utterly that he +would take no protection from him, or give him any share in his own +troubles. But at that blow, a demon sprang to life in him which knew no +law but an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. His left arm shot out +like a piston at the dim flushed face before him, and the face bobbed +downward out of sight. + +At the same moment, the heavy back of a chair in supple hands descended +out of space behind him with a thud; and a great tall fellow, staggering +backward with the unexpected pain of that stroke, for the moment +obstructed his comrades. For Henry had followed where he could not lead, +and now ranged himself joyously at Varney's side in the narrow +threshold. + +The setback, however, was trivial. In the next breath, they closed round +him with a great shout, thrusting Henry violently to one side. Three men +were required for this latter task, who so missed the real sport of the +night. Another was caught when the front porch fell in with a crash, and +was pulled out with a broken leg an hour later. But enough remained. +Varney was instantly lost in a struggling and kicking hurly-burly of +arms and legs, and was borne with them in a rush down the short flight +of steps to the lawn. All, of course, could not reach him. So it +happened that two or three, on the outskirts of the tossing group, heard +the feet of reinforcements in the hallway and wheeled at that sound. +Even in the faint light, Peter's great size made him easily +recognizable; and a young man of Hare's party named Bud Spinks, who +admired him intensely and had partaken of his hospitality in the town, +was still enough himself to cry out: + +"Keep away, Mr. Maginnis! This ain't your fuss!" + +"You'll see!" shouted Peter, and cleared the wrecked porch at a bound. + +In his dash through the darkness for the door he had stumbled over the +fragments of Henry's broken chair. One stout leg of it remained in his +hand now. Peter's prowess with that weapon has passed into legend in +Hunston. They tell to this day of a great giant, eight feet tall, +watchful eyes in all parts of him, impervious to all blows, +hundred-handed and every hand like the kick of a mule, who met ten men +almost single-handed that night and routed them utterly. + +He was the biggest man in Hunston, the strongest and the most terrible +in anger. Bud Spinks, because he did not know whose fuss that was, felt +the bite of that anger, and toppled beneath it like a sapling under the +woodman's axe. So did poor old Orrick, who had met the others on the +road and returned with them, and who was the only man of them all that +Peter recognized. Two of those who were looking after Henry, having laid +him to rest by this time, rushed Peter from behind. One of them struck +him heavily on the point of the jaw as he swung around, and was +astonished that he did not appear to notice it. The next instant he fell +senseless under a blow that crushed through his upraised fists as a +hammer might go through a drumhead. One Peter hit a glancing blow upon +the shoulder, and as long as he lived he could never raise that arm +above his head again. + +Thus Peter was free to fling himself on that violently swaying mass +which he knew held Varney. Even those on the further side knew precisely +the moment he struck it. The whole body quivered with the shock of that +impact. Those nearer that chair leg and that equally terrible fist had +more personal testimony to his presence. There was no resisting either. +They got in many blows upon him, as his bruised body and discolored face +showed next morning. But he never once faltered. To himself, with a +precious moment lost back in the study and a heart afire to know if he +were yet in time, his progress seemed desperately slow; yet he cleft a +path for himself as by magic. + +Knocking some down, thrusting others aside or frightening them away, he +found his answer at last with sudden directness. A big raw-boned fellow, +fiercely drunk and working with his feet at something on the ground, +wheeled and struck passionately at Peter's face. A blow like a cannon +shot was his reply, and, for the second time under the impact of that +fist, Jim Hackley (though Peter did not know him) measured his length +upon the ground. Two or three scattering ones, still up, were hovering +in Peter's rear with a discreetness which, it chanced was now quite +superfluous. For at that instant, he caught sight of his friend, and +immediately all the fight went out of him and his knees shook. + +Varney lay anyhow on the trodden grass, dappled with blood, his head +curved fantastically beneath his shoulders. Another had gone down with +him and lay half over him, a long arm locked about him in a curious +gesture that oddly suggested protection. This one lay face downward, but +Varney, as it happened, was on his back, and his upturned face looked in +the dusky night the image of death. + +Peter dropped his club with a strangled cry, and went down on his hands +and knees. No reassuring flutter met the hand which he thrust inside the +trampled bosom. That heart seemed stilled. He gathered the limp form in +his arms like a child's and turned a dreadful face upon the beaten +fragments of the mobbing-party. + +"By God!" he shouted passionately. "You've killed him!" + +They faded away into the darkness, such of them as could walk, sobered +by the horror of that cry, frightened more at that face than at all the +blows which had gone before. + +So Peter stood alone in the little lawn, dark figures of his enemies +stretched here and there about him, his great arms clutching the inert +body of his friend, groaning his pain to the four winds. But the next +instant, flying hoof-beats sounded on the road, raced near, and a +two-horse buggy, overloaded with men, pulled up sharply at the gate. A +very small pale man, in a frock-coat plastered with dirt, and stuttering +violently as he shouted Peter's name, tore up the path. + +"You're too late, Hare!" cried Peter wildly. "They've killed him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +RELATING HOW VARNEY FAILS TO DIE; AND WHY SMITH REMAINED IN HUNSTON; AND +HOW A RECEPTION IS PLANNED FOR MR. HIGGINSON + + +Thus it happened that the southbound local, which went through at +eight-ten, did not acquire Varney as a passenger that night; and his old +friend, Elbert Carstairs, did not meet his emissary at nine-thirty, or +indeed at any hour that evening. But two travelers for New York did +board the local at Hunston, and both of them, as it chanced, repaired to +the car provided for smokers, each for his own reasons. + +One of them straightway lighted a long cigar, which a gentleman had +given him that morning, doubtless unwisely, for he was not above twelve +years old. The other, who happened to sit in the seat just before him, +did not smoke. He was rendered conspicuous by the fact that he wore no +hat, and by the deadly pallor of his face, relieved only by a reddening +bump beneath the right eye. His clothes also were dirty and disheveled +till he seemed scarcely the superior in elegance of the little +ragamuffin behind him. + +So that it was not surprising that the amiable conductor, standing by +for the tickets and struck by the obvious likeness, should have +observed: + +"Your son's pretty young to be a-smokin' seegars, ain't he?" + +Mr. Stanhope, not knowing what this remark meant, and caring less, +answered with a cold stare, though inwardly he cursed the man for his +fatuous impertinence. That done, he relapsed dully into his own +thoughts, which were all of the house he had scurried from, terrified by +Peter's cry, half an hour before.... + +In that house, in Mr. Stanhope's own deserted bed, Varney lay at his +ease, as quiet as a statued man. Over the bed, industriously at work, +hung the keen-faced town doctor, whom Hare had gotten with a speed which +passed all understanding. At the foot of the bed stood Peter Maginnis, +his face like the face of a carven image. + +At the very moment when the garrulous conductor was trying to foist off +poor little Tommy Orrick upon Mr. Stanhope, the old doctor raised his +head. + +"He's not dead _yet_. An excellent chance I should say." + +Peter's face did not change. His hand tightened on the foot-board till +his nails whitened. It was as though he had pulled a signal cord which +ran unseen under the bed-clothes and rung a mysterious bell in some +remote corner of his friend's head. Varney immediately opened one eye, +let it rest on Peter and said in a clear voice: + +"You all right, Peter?" + +That done he relapsed immediately into unconsciousness again. The doctor +took out a large handkerchief, wiped his brow and smiled. Peter, his +quick relief like a storm of joy, went downstairs to tell his friends +of the Reform Committee, and do a thousand other things. + +By nine o'clock the town was ringing with the wild story, and in the +still watches of the later night the telegraph flung it to far places, +to be read in wonder next morning in a million homes. Overnight, the +great eye of the country turned like an unwinking searchlight upon the +dingy town by the Hudson where happened to dwell Mrs. Elbert Carstairs +and her only daughter, Mary. And all the world read how two men who were +doubles had strangely met in a lonely house with a drunken mob outside; +how one of them, who had earned the mob, turned the other out to face +it; how the son of a famous captain of industry had shamed the +Berserkers in his passionate muscularity: how one "double" had fled to +save his skin and how the other, battered almost beyond recognition, now +lay trembling between life and death. + +In Hunston, there followed next day a whirl of police activity, of which +the net results were tame in the extreme. Of all the fierce band which +had stormed the house of Mr. Stanhope, only poor old Orrick and Mr. +British, the bookseller--he who had been pulled out senseless from under +the beams of the porch--were identified. Mr. British flatly and +resolutely declined to testify as to who his comrades were, and old Sam +Orrick, terrified though he was by prospective horrors of the law, +loyally perjured his immortal soul by swearing that the men were all +strangers to him and that he believed them to be visitors from another +city. + +The count against these two proved to be only assault and battery, +though for three days and nights it was a toss of the coin whether they +would not have to answer for a graver charge. Peter's joy had soon +proved premature and the doctor's smile faded in unexpected +bewilderment. The sick man did not improve in the least. Delirium +followed hard upon deadly stupor and there seemed no rousing him from +either. + +The yellow cottage with the trampled flower-beds and smashed windows, +which looked so bare-faced with its front porch shaved away, had passed +to Peter for the moment by right of conquest. In it everything that +conducted to the comfort of ill man had been quickly and lavishly +installed. Everybody was wonderfully kind and thoughtful. Mrs. Marne, +who reached the cottage with Mrs. Carstairs half an hour after the +doctor the first night, and had done wonders before the nurses arrived, +was simply invaluable. Hare came night and morning, horribly formal and +ill at ease, begging for something to do. Flowers and inquiries from +total strangers were an hourly occurrence. From Charlie Hammerton came a +quart of magnificent Scotch, followed on the second day by a pile of +clippings from the _Gazette's_ exchanges which must have gratified the +injured man extremely if only he had been able to read them. His own +leading article, headed "Laurence Varney, Hero," Editor Hammerton +modestly suppressed. By the hand of sad-faced McTosh came a hideous +floral piece, in fact, a red, white, and blue star, bearing the label +"From the sorrowing crew of the _Cypriani_." Mrs. Carstairs, whose +emotions at the time were hardly fully understood in the yellow cottage, +called daily and sent beautiful roses and chicken jelly. The roses faded +and the chicken jelly was considerably enjoyed by the nurses. But from +Mrs. Carstairs's daughter, whose filial relations had invoked all these +things, there came neither flower nor word. + +The fight had taken place upon a Thursday night. On Friday, the Hunston +doctor, at his wits' end, had asked for a consultation. On Saturday, the +great doctor from the city had spent an hour in the sick-room, first +examining the patient in a bodily way, and then prodding him with a +tireless stream of questions, however futile--anything to make him talk. +At the end of that time he had whispered awhile with the town doctor and +drawn Peter into the study downstairs. + +"What's the matter with him, Mr. Maginnis?" he asked abruptly. + +"Matter?" echoed Peter. "Wasn't he beaten to a pulp?" + +"Kicks don't kill a man with that kind of physique. What has he got on +his mind?" + +"I don't know," said Peter, miserably. "The last time I saw him--" + +"Find out," said the great doctor, briefly. "If you don't, he may die. +He seems to have had a shock of some kind. You must work upon that line. +There is nothing the matter with his body that he can't throw off. But +he will not get well unless you put the idea into his head that he +_must_." + +And glancing at his watch, he bowed stiffly, and was whirled away to +the station. + +Peter was utterly at a loss. He had no idea what had taken Varney up the +road to Stanhope's that afternoon, much less of any shock that could +conceivably have come to him. But he set himself to find out. By the +next morning, partly through inquiry, partly through patching two and +two together, he had worked out a theory. Guesswork, of course, was +rather dangerous in a delicate matter such as this; but the doctor's +report after breakfast had been the very worst yet. Peter never +faltered. He picked up his hat from the study table, in front of which +he had been figuring these things out, and started down the hall. + +Mrs. Marne was sitting quietly on the bottom step of the stairway, her +dark head in her hands; and Peter was glad to see her. + +"I've found out a little about that," said Peter, in a low voice. "I +believe it was--to see Miss Carstairs that he came up the road that +day." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Marne. "I have heard that too." + +"She struck me," said Peter, "as a nice little girl. Probably she +doesn't understand the situation. I am going to see her now." + +"She won't see you," said Mrs. Marne. + +"Yes, she will," said Peter quietly, and started for the door. + +But Mrs. Marne caught him by the hand, protectingly, like an elder +sister, and drew him into the parlor and shut the door. + +Half an hour later Peter came out and went up the stairs. At the +landing he paused to take off his shoes, and went on up in his stocking +feet. + +It was Sunday morning, near eleven o'clock, a brilliant morning all sun +and wind. The far church bells of Hunston were ringing on the clear air +like chimes from another world. Never afterward could Peter hear the +Sunday bells without thinking of that moment. At the door, he met Miss +Nevin, the day-nurse, coming out. She said she was going to telephone +the doctor. + +Peter slipped into the darkened room and shut the door noiselessly +behind him. After a moment, he tipped over to the bed and sat down in +the nurse's chair, silently. The bed looked very fresh and white and +unrumpled, and that was because the injured man had for two days lain +almost wholly quiet. The thin coverlet defined his long frame perfectly. +Many bandages about the limbs and trunk made it look grotesquely bumpy +and misshapen. One arm, wrapped from shoulder to finger-tip was outside +the coverlet; now and then the hand, which was muffled large as a +boxing-glove, moved a little. Cloths ran slantwise about chin, brow, and +head, leaving only breathing space and one eye uncovered. + +Presently, as he became more used to the darkness, Peter observed that +the eye was open and regarding him incuriously: and he started in some +confusion. "Do you feel much pain now, old chap?" he began rather +huskily. + +"Pain?" repeated Varney, vaguely. "No, I don't feel any pain." + +"No pain! That's fine!" said Peter with lying cheerfulness, for he knew +that this deadness to sensation was the worst feature in the case. +"That--left leg is rather badly bruised, it seems. I was a little afraid +_that_ might be troubling you some." + +Silence. + +"Did Miss Nevin show you all your flowers? They 've just been pouring in +all day every day. We could turn florists to-day without spending a +penny for stock. Couldn't we, Larry, eh?" + +"Yes," said Varney laboriously. "We could." + +"Everybody has been so kind," continued Peter, desperately, "that upon +my word it's hard to pick and choose. If I were asked to say who had +really been kindest--let me see--yes, I'd name--Mrs. Carstairs. Flowers +and something to eat, some little dainty or delicacy, twice a day. The +fact is, old chap, to put it plainly, though I don't want to distress +you, you know--she is blaming herself about this. Blaming herself +greatly." + +"She oughtn't to do that," said Varney after a time. + +"Of course she ought n't to. Yet it's natural enough in a way. Of +course, I'm blaming myself, too--like the mischief--I'd had so many +warnings, you know. Little Hare is blaming himself. And Mr. +Carstairs--poor old fellow! I'll show you his letters when--the light's +a little better for reading. They're fine, honestly. Of course, he +wanted to come on right away, but I wouldn't let him." + +Silence again. + +"So you see how many of us," continued Peter, nearing his awkward +climax, "have been worried, _personally_, about this--trouble. And how +much, well--how much--happiness is bound up in your getting well. And by +the way--I declare I nearly forgot Miss Carstairs--I declare!" + +There was a long silence, which Peter resolved not to break. Through the +shuttered window, the distant bells chimed faintly into the room. The +sick man's stray arm moved restlessly on the coverlet, but otherwise he +lay quite still. + +At length Varney said: "When did you see Miss Carstairs? She +hasn't--been here--?" + +But poor Peter's errand was not so easy as that. He had no glad shaft of +promise with which to pierce that deadly Nessus-coat of apathy. + +"She couldn't come here, old chap," said Peter, very gravely. "You +hadn't heard, of course. Miss Carstairs is very ill." + +"Miss Carstairs is very ill," repeated Varney, not inquiringly, but like +a child saying over a lesson. + +"Awfully ill," said Peter encouragingly. "It seems that she came home +Thursday night a little after seven, looking very pale and badly, but +insisting that there was nothing the matter. She sat upstairs with her +mother until about eight, when somebody called her down to the +telephone. Well, she didn't come back. So after a while Mrs. Carstairs +sent down to find out why. The maid found her in the hall--in fact, on +the floor, I believe. She had fainted, you know. Yes--that was it. +Fainted dead away--poor little girl." + +After what seemed an eternity of waiting, Varney asked: "What was +it--do you know? At the telephone?" + +"Yes. It was Mrs. Marne. She called up Miss Carstairs in the first +excitement of--of your accident, it seems, and I'm afraid she gave a +very exaggerated and alarming account, you know. They put her to bed," +continued Peter clearing his throat, "and there she's been ever since. +The great shock, you know. Mrs. Marne saw her this morning--the first +time she had been admitted. It's all quite sad. Quite sad. We'll talk of +it again when--you're feeling a bit stronger." + +Varney, who had lain like a statue for two days and nights, had begun +moving a little under the coverlet, stirring first one swathed leg, then +the other, as though seeking vainly to shift his position. Now he said +at once: "I want to hear now." + +Peter gave a deep sigh. He thought, and rightly, that this was the best +thing that had happened yet. + +"Well, it's all very strange, Larry. When I said that it was the shock +of the accident that had made her ill, I did not tell the whole truth. +It seems that she is suffering from a terrible hallucination about it. +She feels in some strange way that the responsibility for all this--is +hers. She told Mrs. Marne that she was responsible for your being on the +road that night, and that she had been unfair about something or other, +and that but for that the--trouble would never have happened. I don't +pretend to understand it. But feeling as she does now--if anything were +to--to go wrong, the poor child would count herself--she would count +herself--" + +"Don't!" said Varney very clearly and distinctly. + +His face looked all at once so ghastly that Peter's heart stopped +beating. He thought in a horrible flash that the end had come, and that +he, Peter Maginnis, had brought it by tearing at the worst wound his +friend had. His clumsy diplomacy fell from him as at the last trump. He +dropped on his knees beside the bed with a groan. + +"For God's sake, Larry, don't leave _that_ mark to a child like her. +Don't give us all _that_ sorrow to carry to our graves--" + +But Varney had pulled his arms free and was clutching wildly at his +head-bandages with heavily swathed fingers. + +"You needn't worry about me," he said in a sharp anguished voice. "Great +Scott! What's--what's wrong with my _head_! It's killing me." + +He recovered with a speed which puzzled the old Hunston doctor even more +than his previous lethargy had done. Five days later he was well enough +to be lifted downstairs to the small back piazza, and here he lay +blanketed up in a reclining chair for half the sunny afternoon. + +A bundle of letters and telegrams lay on his covered knees; and going +slowly through them, he came presently to one from Elbert Carstairs, +arrived only that morning: + + "MY DEAR BOY: + + Words are feeble things at their best, + and I know of none that would convey to you my great + joy at the news that you are out of danger. By the same + mail, I have learned that my other dear sick one in Hunston + is quite herself again, and I say to God in gratitude + upon my knees that my cup is full." + +A pause in the reading here. The long hand of the nurse's clock on the +window-sill had crawled half around the dial before Varney raised the +letter again from his blanketed lap: + + "There is much in my heart to tell you, much to beg your + forgiveness for, but I shall keep it to say to you face to + face. Just now the keenest point in my grief is that all + this suffering I have brought upon you has been worse + than unnecessary. Light has come to me in these sleepless + nights, and I see now that there was a much better + way to seek what I sought, a far happier path." + +The letter slipped down upon the swathed knees again, and he lay staring +at the blown and sunny tree-tops. Presently the door at his side opened; +a man started to come through it, stopped short, and stood motionless on +the threshold. + +Varney slowly turned his head. In the doorway, to his dim surprise, +stood Mr. Stanhope's man, Henry, bowing, unobtrusive, apologetic, ready +to efface himself at a gesture like the well-trained servant he was. + +"Why--is that you, Henry?" + +"Harskin' your pardon for the hintrusion, sir," said Henry with a wooden +face. "I didn't know you were 'ere, sir. 'Opin' you are feeling improved +to-day, sir--if you please, Hi'll withdraw--" + +"Henry," said Varney, "that is no way for you to speak to me--after the +way you stood up for me that night. Come here." + +And he disentangled from his covers and held out a rather maimed-looking +hand. + +Then he saw the soul of the man whip through the livery of the menial +like a knife, and Henry, stumbling forward with a working face, clasped +that hand proudly in his strong white one: only he dropped on one knee +to do it, as if to show that, though gentlemen might be pleased to show +him kindness now and then, he perfectly understood that he was not as +they. + +"Ho, sir," he broke out in a tone very different from his +well-controlled voice of service, "I never seen a pluckier thing done, +nor a gamer fight put up. You make me too proud, sir, with your +'and--man to man ... I was shamed, sir, till I couldn't bear it when I +came to and learned that I 'ad not stayed with you, sir, to the end. +Three of them closed in on me, sir, and harskin' your pardon, sir, I was +whippin' hof 'em to standstill when one of them tripped me from be'ind, +sir,--" + +"Stand up, Henry," said Varney, rather agitated, "like the man you are." + +Henry stood up, with a jerky "Thank you, sir," striving with momentary +ill-success to get a lackey's mask back upon that quivering face. + +"I'll always remember you," said Varney with some difficulty, "as a good +and brave man. I don't think I'll ever forget how you disobeyed an +order--to try to save me. And now tell me--what became of your master?" + +"'E's in the village, sir," said Henry rather bothered by his throat +"I'm expecting 'im in any moment, sir--" + +"In the village?" repeated Varney, surprised. "Mr. Stanhope is in +Hunston?" + +"_Mr. Stanhope_!" said Henry with an insufferable contemptuousness for +which he at once apologized. "Harskin' your pardon, sir--I thought you +inquired for my master. Mr. Stanhope, I 'ave 'eard, sir, has sailed for +Europe." + +"Well, who's your master, then?" + +"Mr. Maginnis is my master, sir." + +Varney deliberated on this, and slowly smiled. "Well, you've got a good +one, Henry." + +"Thank you, sir. That's 'im now, sir. I 'ear 'is motor in the road. If +you'll excuse me, sir--I'll go and let 'im in." + +And he bowed and went away, only pausing in the entry to attend a moment +to his blurred eyes with the back of a supple hand. + +Peter stepped out into the porch with a cheery greeting and dropped into +a rocking-chair, looking worn and tired. The instant his heavy anxiety +over Varney was relieved, he had thrown himself back into the fight for +reform with a desperate vigor which entirely eclipsed all his previous +efforts. + +"We-ell," he said in answer to Varney's question, "we're humping +along--just humping along. Time's so confoundedly short, though. You +know, Larry, this business the other night is proving the best card +we've got. Fact. I haven't tried to tell you how worked up the people +have been about your--accident, and how most of them don't stand for it +for a minute. It's pretty well understood around town that politics was +back of it all in some way, though nobody can state a single fact, and +I've scoured the town for evidence without finding a scrap. Anyway, it's +the solemn fact, and the committee can prove it, that that feeling is +bringing over a lot of votes that we never could have reached otherwise +with a long distance 'phone." + +"Praise be that they're coming over, anyhow." + +"This fight," continued Peter, absorbedly, "is confoundedly interesting +because it is typical of what's going on all over the country. Hunston +is just a dingy little microcosm of the whole United States of America. +You can't blame these poor beggars here much, afraid of their jobs as +they are. It takes courage to make a break for virtue when the devil's +holding you by your bread and meat. But--well, I'd hate like the +mischief to lose, particularly since we've managed to come in for such a +beautiful lot of lime-light. You know this fight is being watched all +over the country, since that trouble? And hang it, it does make a +difference when the Associated Press carries half a column about you +every night. Do you remember that first night in Hunston, Larry," he +continued, "when you said that our part in the town's affairs must be +that of quiet onlookers only? Quiet onlookers! And now everybody in the +country is playing quiet onlookers on us. Our names are household words +in California, and I'm credibly informed that they're naming babies +after you all through the middle West. Funny, isn't it?" + +Varney assented with a laugh. Presently he said rather constrainedly: +"Peter--I want you to tell me a little about that night. Who was +caught?" + +Peter named the two. "They wouldn't testify," he explained, "and I +couldn't. Old Orrick was the only man I spotted. He will get punished +for assault. I don't see that they've got a case against British. He was +knocked out when the porch fell, and he hadn't done a thing then, except +yell probably. You can't hang a man for yelling in this State." + +"No. Did you--you--was anybody killed?" + +"Bless your heart, no!" cried Peter. "Why, it was only a little old +kicking-match and hair-pulling, you know, hardly worse than a college +rush." + +Varney looked suddenly and strangely relieved. + +"I'm mighty glad to hear that," he said, and presently added: "Have you +seen--Smith?" + +"Smith! He went to New York some days ago. I remember--it was the very +day you pulled up and got well. Why, what about him?" + +"Didn't you know? He was there that night," said Varney. "Right in the +thick of it, helping me." + +"Helping _you_! Smith!" + +Varney nodded. "The minute they closed in on me," he said after a +moment, "and we all bunched together, I felt that there was somebody in +there fighting on my side. Pretty soon I heard a voice in my ear, it +said: '_Keep on your pins as long as you can: these dogs'll trample you +if they get you down_.' I said, 'Is that you, Smith?' and he laughed +and said, '_Still on my studies_.' Then somebody hit me over the head +with something, and I went down and he went with me. He had one arm +around me, I remember. I've been thinking, ever since I could think at +all, that they might--might have finished him. I believe he saved my +life, Smith did." + +"Well--bully for him!" said Peter slowly, much impressed. "What on earth +struck him to do that, do you suppose? Well, well! I'll certainly look +that old boy up in New York and shake him by the hand." + +There was a considerable silence. At just the moment when Varney was +about to put another question, Peter opened his mouth and answered it. + +"However," he said, an irrepressible note of irritation creeping into +his honest voice, "even that was not the strangest thing that happened +that night. Not by a long shot." + +Varney's gaze fixed with sudden interest. "Higginson? You don't mean to +say that he turned up?" + +"I do. And got away with it again--confound his soul!" + +"What happened? Any more dirty work? Did anything get into the papers?" + +"No--oh, no! You've got that sized up wrong, Larry. He's no yellow +journalist or anything like that. He's only the slickest underground +worker this town ever saw--with his confounded apologetic, +worried-looking mask of a face. As for more dirty work--well, I guess +the bloodshed the other night scared him up so--" + +"But go on and tell me! Where'd you see him? What did you say and--" + +"Sitting in our front parlor, if you please, like a dear old friend of +the family." + +The remembrance of the way he had been affronted and outwitted chafed +Peter's spirit uncontrollably. He rose and began pacing up and down the +little porch, hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets. + +"About an hour after we put you to bed," he exploded, "I slipped +downstairs to tell Hare to keep everybody off the place. However, a lot +of people had already come in. I glanced in at the parlor and it seemed +full of them--Mrs. Carstairs and Mrs. Marne--they were the first to get +here after Hare's delegation--Hammerton and another man from the +_Gazette_, the committeemen, and several I'd never laid eyes on before. +Well, there in a corner, looking like a hired mourner at a nigger +funeral, sat that fellow Higginson. You could have knocked me flat with +a pin feather. I'm as sure as I stand here that it was he who worked up +that mob for Ryan, and the whole dirty scheme--and then coming around +with his tongue in his cheek to inquire after the victim! Can you beat +that gall?" + +"Not easily. What happened?" + +"They asked me how you were. I told'em. Then I said before the +room-full: 'I was very sorry to find you out this afternoon, Mr. +Higginson, when I called at your hotel.' The fellow looked white as a +sheet and mumbled something I couldn't catch. Well--I couldn't smash him +there before all the women, so I said: 'Please don't go away this time +until I see you. I'm most anxious to have a little private conversation +with you.' Oh, of course that was a mistake--I hate to think about it! +But--well, I was a good deal worried just then," he explained, rather +sheepishly, "and fact is, for the minute I wasn't thinking very much +about Higginson. I needn't add that he had sneaked when I came down +again. Had the cheek to leave behind a message with Hare saying he +regretted to miss me, but felt it his duty to escort the ladies home." + +Varney, though he had grounds for animosity which Peter never even +guessed, laughed aloud. But it was a brief laugh, which quickly faded. + +"And he's never been seen or heard of from that day to this? Well, for +my part," he went on, rather constrainedly, "I'm almost ready to believe +the man's a myth--a mere personification of evil--an allegorical name +for the powers of darkness--" + +"Myth!" cried Peter. "You'll see! Why, he's certain to turn up again, +Larry--absolutely certain. You couldn't keep him away with a flock of +cannon. If he doesn't come before, it's dead sure that he'll appear +among us again on election day--four days from now--just to see the +results of his pretty work. And when he does--" + +"Well?" said Varney, amused through his own heartsoreness by Peter's +vehemence. "When he does?" + +"I've got two men watching every train, day and night," said Peter. +"When Higginson sets foot in this town again, one man trails him, and +the other runs for me.... Well, I'm a generous and forbearing man, +Larry, and I recall that you havn't had much fun here. I'll--yes, hang +it all!--I'll bring the old rogue to you, dead or alive, and stand by in +silence while you speak him your little piece." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +IN WHICH VARNEY, AFTER ALL, REDEEMS HIS PROMISE + +From the roaring ovation which followed Peter's brief remarks there +emerged again the sudden, clean-cut silence. Mayor Hare--Mayor by the +narrowest margin in the heaviest vote ever cast in that town--stood upon +the improvised little stand and looked out over the packed square. He +rested one small hand upon the gay-clothed rail, and many people saw +that it quivered. The showy "demonstration" of Peter's planning, +brilliantly launched the moment the count was announced--the imported +brass-band, the triumphal procession with the bugles, the streamers and +the flag-wrapped carriages, and now the rostrum ready set and waiting in +the heart of the dense crowd--all had taken him completely by surprise. +His face showed it; yet he was not thinking of that exactly. All at once +the Mayor's mind had harked back to another moment, not so many days +before, when he had stood in this square to make a speech; and at the +rushing thought of the great contrast between that moment and this, +there rose in him a sense of gratefulness so deep that it took palpable +form, and stuck, suffocatingly, in his throat. + +The square swam before his blinded eyes. He took off his glasses and +wiped them frankly. Stiff formality left him, without a nod at parting, +carrying along the "few remarks" he had nervously thrown together in his +Roman progress up Main Street. + +"The modesty of the man who has just addressed you," he began +unsteadily, "will deceive no one. You all know what I owe to him--what +our town owes to him. You all know that if I am almost too proud and too +happy to speak at all just now, it is because a kindly chance sent Mr. +Maginnis to Hunston." + +Cheers, more cheers, and yet again cheers; cheers running on and on as +though they never meant to stop; spontaneous waves of applause that +meant, what nearly all knew, that Maginnis personally had captured +Hunston, and that his efficiency with a chair-leg had reared him into a +kind of demi-god among certain rough fellows of the baser sort. + +The speaker was resuming, not yet through with his tributes. His eye +flitting over the shouting crowd had fallen upon a face. + +"I know that both honesty and logic were on the side which Mr. Maginnis, +coming here a stranger, elected to support. But honesty does not always +make a winning cause, nor does logic. What I may call sympathy is often +better than both. The splendid help that we got from Mr. Maginnis +received this supplement. Sympathy came to aid Reform. A brutal outrage +sullied the name of our town--an outrage which, there is sad reason to +believe, was born of politics. The victim of that outrage, and the hero +of that terrible night, is happily with us to-day.... I will not offend +him with any words of praise. But may I not say in the market-place what +is the truism of the committee-room ... that when this gentleman did +what he did, he brought to Reform the sympathy which ... has made me +Mayor of Hunston." + +Every eye followed the direction of the speaker's glance and his grave +bow; and by the chance of good position, it happened that nearly all +could see. Upon a dingy porch, a few yards up the Main Street side of +the square, stood a tall, young man leaning on a cane, a wide felt hat +shading a rather badly marked face. And--there was no possibility of any +mistake--it was Jim Hackley's porch that he stood upon, and--yes--it was +Jim Hackley himself, a sober and genial Jim Hackley, who stood by his +side, in intimate pose, and grinning somewhat sheepishly into the glare +of fame which suddenly enveloped him. + +What part Hackley had borne in the events to which the orator had +referred was never officially known, but it may be said without +exaggeration that there had been suspicions abroad against him. His +present friendliness with the victim of those events, therefore, seemed +the gauge and symbol of penitence and reconciliation. + +It was the first time that Hunston had seen Varney since the night he +was hurt, and the first time that most of Hunston had ever seen him. The +story of his deeds and his sufferings, doubtless considerably +embellished and known to every one, made him a figure of keen popular +interest, and the cheers and hand-clappings now were thunderous, +compelling him to lift his hat again and again. Some even started a +swift descent upon the Hackley residence with the evident intention of +carrying the young man to the stand on their shoulders. But Hackley came +down to his gate to meet them and buffeted them away, explaining loudly, +like an old friend and generally acknowledged sponsor: "He ain't up to +it to-day, boys! Stand back!" + +"Go on with your speech," said Peter in a fierce undertone to Hare. +"He's going to faint." + +"Let us give honor to whom honor is due," cried Hare, hastily, and so +resumed his remarks. + +Peter's melancholy prediction, though it spread quickly among the crowd +after Varney left the porch, was quite unfounded. Varney had not the +least idea of fainting. At Hare's tribute, which was as unexpected as he +felt it to be totally undeserved, and the sudden rain of eyes upon him, +an unaccountable dizziness had seized him, while he stood reluctantly +bowing; he had thrust out his hand and caught hold of the post. This +blackness passed as quickly as it had come. The next instant he felt as +fit a man as ever; and to the tender requests of his host, Mr. Hackley, +that he should withdraw into the house for a "leetle rest-up," he +returned a laughing refusal. For this was his last appearance in +Hunston, as well as his first in recent days, and very strongly did he +desire to make it testify to his warm interest in the town's great day +and the personal triumph of his friend, Peter Maginnis. + +What removed Varney so abruptly from the Hackley porch and the public +view was the sudden fulfilment of quite another prediction of Peter's: +the one about the return to Hunston of the gum-shod Mr. Higginson. + +The news came without warning. At just the moment when the Mayor +replunged into his interrupted oratory, Varney became aware that a low, +anxious voice behind him was insistently calling his name. He turned, +and saw the figure of a man standing in Hackley's entryway, just inside +the door; he had evidently slipped in from the rear; and now, catching +the young man's eye, he began mysteriously beckoning and making signs. + +"Kin I speak to you a minute, Mr. Varney?" he called in the same +dramatic whisper. + +Varney, in some surprise, advanced to the doorway and stepped inside the +entry after the stranger--a poorly dressed fellow with an unshaven chin +and a collarless neck. + +"Well? What do you want, my man? And how do you know my name?" + +At that the man gave the air of exploding, though his voice remained +only a whisper, at once apologetic and immensely reproachful. + +"_Know_ your _name_, sir! Why, _excuse_ me for usin' it so free, but I +guess there ain't nobody in Hunston don't know _you_, Mr. Varney! Why, +Mr. Varney, my six-year-old kid c'd pick you right out o' that crowd out +there, same as 't was her pa, what with seein' your picture in the +papers an' all, an' I guess there ain't anything you'd ever want in +_Hunston_ you couldn't have just for the trouble o' namin' it." + +The random assertion struck some of the blood from the young man's +cheek, but he said good-humoredly: "Well, I'm glad to hear it. But tell +me who you are, and what I can do for you." + +The man's face, which had grown rather loose and mobile, instantly +became business-like and alert. + +"I'm 'Lije Stobo, Mr. Varney--Hackley'll tell you. I was hired a week +ago by Mr. Maginnis to watch trains for a certain party kind of expected +to show up here." His voice, already very low, dropped several tones +lower, as he hurriedly went on: "Well, Mr. Varney, the party come in on +Number 14 just now. It ain't five minutes ago since he stepped down on +the deepo platform--disguised in some pretty good glad rags, he was, but +o' course we spotted him right off, and--" + +"Higginson?" + +The man nodded. "My partner was with me--Callery--and we shadows our +party to the Palace Hotel where he takes Room 41 and sneaks upstairs. +Callery's sitting in the lobby now, and I runs out to take the tip to +Mr. Maginnis--but Lord bless you, Mr. Varney--" He pointed out the open +door in the direction of the little speaker's stand where Peter sat +impregnably walled in on all sides by dense human masses. "It might be +an hour before I could get to him through _that_. I was up against it, +f'r he'd sure kill me if I let our party give us the slip again, and +then I heard 'em all cheerin' you, and thinks I, _there's_ my man, +and--" + +Varney interrupted gratefully but briskly. + +"You did exactly right, Mr. Stobo. I have long been anxious to see +Mr.--that is, this party. In fact," he added, putting on his hat with +significant firmness, "it is because of some business that I have with +this party that Mr. Maginnis asked you to look out for him." + +Mr. Stobo's eyes ardently approved the young man's readiness for +"trouble." + +"Well, _sir_--that's took a load off'n my mind, I tell you! I'll just +skip on--will I, Mr. Varney?--and try to get the tip to Mr. Maginnis, as +my orders was. He was _that set_ on interviewin' this here party--but +Lor', he'd give him to you, same's himself. Only--are you _sure_ you're +feelin' up to it to-day, Mr. Varney? If mebbe you'd let me'r Callery go +along now, just in case, y' know--" + +Varney gave an answer which Mr. Stobo found completely reassuring. At +the same time, he rapidly produced his pocket-book and pulled out a bill +of alluring complexion. + +"I owe you a great deal for bringing me this information, Mr. +Stobo--more than I can repay. But perhaps you would let me--" + +He stopped suddenly, for the man had started backing off down the +entryway, a dull unaccustomed color showing in his grimy face. + +"You didn't mean it, Mr. Varney! Why, how'd I look my missus in the +face--let alone myself--and tell her I took money off'n _you_--" + +He disappeared out of the back door, and Varney, feeling uncomfortable +and disproportionately touched, put his spurned bill back in his +pocket. Hackley, now perceiving that his guest's visitor was gone, +turned his back on the speechmaking and hurried forward solicitously. + +"I could 'a' hit that Stobo sneakin' in a-botherin' and a-'noyin' you," +he said in tones of great sympathy. "I know how it is, Mr. Varney. Bit +of a inverlid myself, I am--no health and no constitootion whatsomever, +sir. Feelin' a leetle stiddier now, are you? Better lie down on my +parlor sofy a while and git rested up nice, hadn't ye?--many's the day +I've lazied there, Lord knows, tryin' f'r to coddle my strength back." + +Varney regretfully declined the offer. In fact, he must be going at +once, he said, as he had a rather important business engagement; and +would Mr. Hackley kindly show him the quiet back-exit to the street and +the outer world? + +Hackley, a tireless host, re-urged the charms of his sofy and cool +well-water for invalids; but his guest remained politely firm. So there, +on the little rear veranda, the two men parted with mutual esteem: +Varney expressing sincere thanks for all Mr. Hackley's courtesies; +Hackley compassionate over Mr. Varney's impaired constitution, but +boggling over what regrets might haply betray him into the grip of the +law's long arm. + +Varney traversed the clothes-hung backyard, came out into the dingy +alley, and made rapidly for the cross-street, where a string of +carriages showed that "the quality" of Hunston was not without interest +in the day's proceedings. He did not see the carriages; to himself he +seemed suddenly to walk in a great and silent solitude. There was noise +enough about him, in all conscience, for every sentence that fell from +Hare's lips was punctuated by a salvo; but the tumult beat itself to +stillness against the closed fastness of his mind. + +Under his eye, half way down the block to which he drew near, rose the +weatherworn flank of the Palace Hotel. Somewhere within the ugly pile +was his mortal enemy Higginson, trapped to his reckoning at last. Within +five minutes they two would stand face to face; and he had long since +promised himself that Higginson would remember the meeting for as long +as he lived. A moment ago, the thought had filled him with a strange +exhilaration: the prospect of a final accounting with the intriguing +fly-by-night who had wronged him past all forgiveness had set his blood +to leaping. But, exactly because that wrong went so deep, his +pleasurable excitement ebbed faster than it had mounted. The wound that +he had had from Higginson was one that no vengeance would heal. And with +the recurrence of this knowledge his battle-joy flickered and went out +like a spent match, and the little alley was a war-list no longer but a +stretch without end of dry and dusty years.... + +"I was lookin' for yer, Mist' Varney," said a husky, abashed voice. + +Varney stared down at the small apparition before him with momentary +unrecognition. + +"Why--Tommy! Heaven bless us! Where did you spring from, boy?" + +Tommy's eyes fell in awe, but sure enough, he was sticking out his +small flipper in salutation. In fact, he had shaken hands a number of +times since that first memorable occasion, and, in his way, was +gradually beginning to catch the spirit of the thing. + +"Kem up on the two-forty-five. Wit' Hauser's band. Got a loan of t'ree +bucks off a frien'." + +"The mischief you did! Where do you find friends like that nowadays? But +what on earth made you pop back here? To hear Hauser's play and see all +the fireworks?" + +Tommy examined his toe with affected interest and shook his head. + +"What then? Don't you like it in New York?" + +"Yasser. Noo York's all right, it is." And reluctantly he added: "You +be'n sick, ain't you? Thought I'd come and see how you was makin' it. +Come afore now, on'y I couldn't get next to de price." + +"Tommy," said Varney, snuggling the boy's left hand into his own right +and resuming the promenade, "you're a mighty good friend to me." + +They emerged into the street where a double line of vehicles, some of +them gay with bright hats and parasols, flanked the curb on either side, +and Varney turned north, his back to the square, unconscious of the many +curious glances that were flung at him as he passed. + +"Tommy," said Varney, "I'm bound for the hotel on business, but I'm not +going to pull you away from all the fun--" + +"Wut, that? That ain't no fun, sir." + +"Don't you suppose I know fun when I meet it in the road, you little +rascal? You stay here till it's all over and then I want you to come +down to the yacht, and we'll have some dinner. Then I'll put you up for +the night and to-morrow morning we'll go to New York together, eh? How's +that?" + +But Tommy said: "Nawser. We can't go yet. Somebody sent me to bring you. +We got a car'dge here--" + +"A carriage?" + +"A victori'," emphasized Tommy. + +"A victoria! All this on three bucks, Tommy! Well, well! You are the +spender, though." + +"Here's _our_ victori'!" said Tommy proudly. + +They halted abruptly before an open carriage ... a victoria, indeed: a +handsome double victoria, all polished dark wood and blue upholstery and +shining nickeled harness, and sleek bay horses. This he saw in the first +flash, wondering by what miracle Tommy Orrick had secured control of so +glorious an equipage. And then ... there was the pretty edge of a +furbelowed skirt upon the carriage-floor ... a dainty patent-leather toe +upon the foot-rest ... an unrolling panorama of white-gloved hands, pale +buff dress, great plumed hat, eyes not seen yet known to be blue to +match the upholstery ... an exquisite lady sitting in the victoria. And +this lady had recognized his presence, first with a faint frightened +"Oh!" and then with a movement of those great hat-plumes which was +beyond all doubt or cavil a bow ... a bow of proper and civil greeting. + +For him that meeting was stunning in its entire unexpectedness. The +landscape went off in protest, exploded in pyrotechnic marvels; the +earth spun and cavorted; the solar system was disrupted and planets ran +amuck with din unbelievable. But he was used to these cataclysms now, +and out of the roar of breakage he heard a voice much like his own +saying pleasantly: + +"Tommy refers to this calmly as _his_ carriage, Miss Carstairs. See what +a week of New York has done for him. Where did he disappear to--did you +notice? A great day it has been"--in the rising inflection of +farewell--"hasn't it?" + +Came out of space in answer, like a fluttering bird from nowhere, a +voice that had once seemed music in his ears: + +"I sent him ... to look for you. They said that you were ... ill. +Perhaps you would let us drive you to the river?" + +"And make you miss the speech?" continued this easy and agreeable young +man, whom Laurence Varney, a great distance off, stood dumbly and +watched from the swirling void with a certain remote admiration. "Of +course not. I was never better in my life and the walk will be pleasant +on so nice an afternoon. But thank you very much." + +Again his tone held the faint inflection of finality, of leave-taking. +Came again the voice like tossed chimes out of space: + +"Then ... won't you stay and hear the end? It would please Mr. Hare. +From this carriage ... you can see and hear everything very well." + +"Thank you," said the debonair spirit, rather carelessly--while +Laurence Varney, off in another world, clutched at the invitation, +fought for it, lied, thieved, prayed, lived and died for it--"I'm afraid +I must go on now." + +"There is something I wanted to say. And ... a message." + +A shuffling of the cosmos, a shrieking readjustment of the universe, and +he found himself sitting on a blue upholstered seat staring at two great +golden moons, which later on turned out to be, after all, mere burnished +buttons upon a coachman's purple back. + +So, not for the first time, the sudden meeting with a lady knocked from +the young man's head all recollection of his enemy. And if their parting +had taken place in the entire privacy of a country road, their +re-meeting, certainly, was in the fullest view of the many. Only, +luckily, nobody chanced to be looking, or within eavesdropping distance; +and even the coachman presently removed himself to stand at his horses' +restive heads. Tommy's carriage happened to be the last one in the line. +Behind it the street was a desert. Before it was nothing but a packed +army of backs. + +"I did not know that you were here until Mr. Hare spoke. And they all +began to look...." + +"Mr. Hackley especially invited me to share his porch ..." and the other +Varney, not the one who sat so stiff and mute, desperate eyes glued on +the far horizon, but the easy, negligent Varney, gay dare-devil that he +was, actually achieved a pleasant laugh. "I must show you his note. It's +been a long time since I have had anything to please me so much." + +He unfolded and held out into the blue empyrean a rather soiled bit of +paper, which a small white-gloved hand descended from heaven like a dove +and took. Then, presumably, this was duly read: + + MR. VARNEY. dear sir: Announcment of Election will + be made in the Squair this p.m. around 6 p.m. Would + feel onered if you would come to my Poarch where everthink + can be seen & heard & no crouding, Josle ect. + Will call at your Yot with horse and Bugy around 5 p.m. + this p.m. if agreble though you don't nead no eskort anywairs + in Hunston, the Unfortunit mistaik having been + diskovered. Noing your intrest in our Poltix will add + that I voated for Mister Hair, first think this a.m. with + sorro for the Past and hoapes for your Speady convlessense, + + Resp. + + J. HACKLEY. + + S.P.--Should you come to my Poarch all would no as + bygorns was bygorns. + +"Wasn't that kind of him?" he asked when the note had again come down +into the ornamental lap, which was the upper line of his range of +vision. "And thoughtful. But then everybody has been so wonderfully kind +to me. I think I shall remember Hunston as altogether the kindest town I +ever saw." + +There was quite a silence after that. + +"I am like Jim," came the voice beside him, troubled chimes waving +bravely, "in having wronged you by ... an unfortunate mistake. You have +forgiven him, haven't you ... let by-gones be by-gones? Can you do as +much ... for me?" + +"Don't," he begged with sudden hoarseness--and there the mannersome +insouciant Varney waved an easy hand and blew himself away, like the +rascally light o' heels he was--"I have to ask forgiveness of you--not +give it," he said. + +"You have much to forgive. That day in the road--I was angry. I was not +just ... not fair. I am mortified to remember ... what I said to you." + +His heart contracted for the trouble in her voice; his spirit made +obeisance to the courage which carried her so perfectly through that +pretty suit for pardon; but for himself-- + +"There is not one thing--believe me--that your goodness can reproach +itself for--not one thing for you to be sorry for. If you have forgiven +me now--for all that you had to forgive--I go away quite happy." + +His first easy composure, which far outmatched her own, had unsteadied +her. His wasted and scarred face, which she had been quite unprepared +for, had shocked her inexpressibly. And now there was this new thought +knocking at the door of her mind--that he was going away quite happy. + +"There was something else I wanted to tell you ... if you could wait a +moment ... some news." + +He turned toward her with a movement of pleasant interest, meant to +verify his recent gallant promise; but he turned so quickly that his +face had no time to come into the kindly conspiracy, and no triumph of +hyperbole could have described its look as happy. + +"Yes? Good news, I hope?" + +"I won't ... be cowardly and let you think that this was accidental ... +my seeing you ... and telling you that I'm sorry. We--we were going to +drive down to the yacht ... after the speeches were over. I don't +understand it all yet, but this afternoon a great thing happened. There +came a letter from my father ... and everything is all settled now. He +... wants my mother ... more than me, now. Why shouldn't I tell you? It +is what I have longed for ... prayed for every night ... for twelve +years. We are going to New York--to-morrow--to see my father." + +His great gladness at that made him forget himself entirely, and for the +first time he could look at her. + +"Why, I can't _tell_ you how glad I am! How tremendously happy that +makes me!" + +She sat back in her cushioned seat, still as a sculptured lady, hands +clasped on her silken lap, eyes gone off down the street, though not for +vision, to where Hare was thundering a splendid peroration. He had +already become aware, without looking at her, that she was richly and +beautifully dressed; but he was hardly prepared for the effect which +such a setting would have upon her face. For all his conjuring of +memory, he had forgotten that she looked quite like that.... + +"Yes ... it makes me happy, too. And my mother wants to ask you--no, I +do--that is, both of us want to ask you--if you won't allow us to go +down ... in the yacht?" + +Misunderstanding, the senseless world started mad antics again; but +Intelligence, which saw more clearly, reached out a long arm and jerked +it firmly back on its feet. + +"Allow you! It's exactly what I'd like most _immensely_. She's all ready +for you--I'll have my things off her in no time--catch the eight-ten +to-night and go straight to congratulate Uncle Elbert. How great to see +him so happy! I 'll run right down to the yacht this minute and attend +to it." + +"There is nothing to attend to ... is there? You said she was all ready. +Of course we could not let you--leave her. We could not go in the yacht +... unless you will go with us." + +But speech stuck in his throat like a bone gone wrong. She would get no +help from him; that was evident. If suffering had wrought miracles of +absolution, she alone could make that plain. + +"You came to Hunston ... to take me to my father ... didn't you?" said +Mary Carstairs. "Why ... won't you do it?" + +A fugitive wave of pallor ran up her cheek, leaving its white trail +behind. She knew now that she had said the last word to him that she +could say, and that if he wanted to go away, he must go. The heavy +curtain of her lashes fell, veiling her eyes ... but, as it chanced, +fell slowly. He had turned at her words, very quickly; he caught the +curtain half-drawn, and a look come and gone like an arrow had shot +through those windows into the lit place beyond. + +"I could only do that," he began unsteadily--"I--you know how it is with +me.... To the longest day I live--I'll love you ... with every breath I +draw. I could not do that--unless ... Will you marry me?" + +The stillness about them then was like a tangible thing, measureless and +infinite. But into it faltered almost at once that voice like silver +bells. + +"If you're _perfectly sure_ you want me to," said Mary faintly. + +Her eyes met his in a wonderful union, divinely sealed the promise of +her lips, stamped it forever and ever with a heavenly stamp.... + +The bay horses curveted and pranced, the coachman sprang to his seat, a +big red motor backed, snorted, honked, and whizzed past them. The +speechmaking was over. The little line of gay carriages, breaking itself +into pieces, was maneuvering for rights of way homeward. The bay horses, +turning, too, were caught in the press and must needs go slowly: so that +the whole vivid pageant might have been but the ordered setting for this +moment--for Laurence Varney and the girl he had sworn to carry home to +her father.... + +In the square, the lingering crowd, attuned to cheering, was summoning +one name after another to noisy felicitation. Out of the tumult rose one +persistent voice, clamoring a changeless request. Yes, it was Hackley's +voice, very near, evidently on his own front porch, and he was saying +over and over: "Lemme ask you! Lemme ask you!" And about the moment the +victoria--Tommy's victori' (Tommy himself, if the truth be known, riding +snugly on the back springs at that very moment)--got safely put about, +Mr. Hackley secured what public notice he required and divulged the +nature of his request. + +"_Fellers, what's the matter with Varney_?" + +Instantly a thousand voices pulverized the man's fatuous anxiety. Hard +after, as the gallant slogan swept on to make assurance doubly sure, +they gave back the name in a roar like the rush of waters.... + +But the man for whom all the voices strained themselves did not hear +their doubt-destroying response, tumultuous though it was. Another +voice, close beside him, had taken up that refrain, making all others +inaudible, a shy, glad, whispering voice of chimes. + +"_He's all right_." + +The common words were glorified by that voice, made over into a sweet +and solemn benediction. He sat very silent, humbled and awed by the +revealed visage of his own great happiness. At last she found courage to +venture a look at him; and she saw that over his pale and disfigured +face there had come a kind of glory, the joy of sudden peace out of +pain. + +Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, +though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond +speech. + +"Would you mind stopping at the hotel--only a minute? I--have an old +enemy there, and I feel that I _must_ see him." + +"Oh, no, no!--must you? Oh, please--I can't let you go now! And I am +afraid--afraid of what might happen--" + +She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she +had not followed his thought. + +"I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's +all right now." + +There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had +left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from +which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly +gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now +he could turn his shining face fully toward her. + +"You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy _to-day_!" + +As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added: + +"And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a +fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being--in love with all the +world. I--I--I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But--this is +a duty, and--and--good-bye!" + +She never forgot the look upon his face. + +"Good-bye. And oh! would you please _hurry_?" + +With an herculean effort he detached himself from the carriage and +rushed into the hotel. The same bored-looking clerk was sitting behind +the desk, paring the same nails with the same office scissors. But this +time, at sight of Varney, he sprang instantly to his feet, all smiles +and eagerness to serve. + +"Why, _good_ evening, Mr. Varney! Well, sir! You're lookin' better'n we +expected, and I tell you Hunston's mighty glad to see you up and about +again." + +Varney marveled how he had ever formed such a mean opinion of the clerk, +whom he now saw to be a decidedly likable young man. + +"Thank you--thank you! It's a wonderful little city--Hunston--wonderful! +Try a few of these cigars--that's right; fill your pocket. And would you +be good enough to send my card up to Mr. Higginson? Perhaps I'd better +write just a line--" + +"Mr. Higginson's in the small parlor, Mr. Varney--straight down the +corridor. Yes, sir! Just came down and went in--I think he saw you +coming--" + +"And ran away again? Why, bless me, what's the old chap afraid of?" + +He started gayly down the dim hall to the right of the desk, swinging +his stick and humming to himself; and presently became aware that a man +was following silently at his elbow. + +"It's me--Callery," said the man apologetically, as Varney turned. "I--I +'ll just be here, Mr. Varney, you know, if anything's wanted." + +Varney laughed again. "You're mighty good to me, Mr. Callery," he said +cordially--"you and Mr. Stobo--I can't tell you how much I appreciate +it. But it isn't a bit of use, you know! I'm positively not going to +kill anybody to-day." + +"Yes, sir," said Callery. "Here's the door, Mr. Varney." + +"This one?" + +"Yes, sir. He come runnin' down the steps, spoke a word to the clerk, +and then he dodges down here and slams the door behind him. Seen you +through the window, I guess--" + +"Well, I'll just step in and have a look at him, Mr. Gallery. Excuse me +a minute." + +He rapped on the closed door and called in a loud cheery voice: "Mr. +Higginson." + +"Come in," said a voice from within--a rather agitated voice which had a +curiously familiar ring in the young man's ears. + +Varney swung open the door, stepped into the small parlor, and (greatly +to the disappointment of Mr. Gallery) closed the door behind him. + +In the middle of the room, staring nervously toward the door, stood a +handsome elderly gentleman, of distinguished presence and clothes of a +rather notable perfection. At sight of him the young man's advance +halted in utter bewilderment, and he fell back limply against the shut +door. + +But the elderly gentleman came running toward him with a suppressed cry, +and seizing the young man's hand disarmingly in both his own, threw +himself almost hysterically upon his apologia. + +"Can you forgive me, my boy? Ah, I'll confess that I've dreaded this +meeting, while longing for it, too! You look badly--ah, very +badly!--yet--not bitter, not resentful--thank God, not unhappy! My boy, +can you find it in your heart to forgive an old man who has suffered +deeply for his sins?" + +Out of his whirling confusion, his insane sense of the world suddenly +gone upside down and the familiar order stood upon its head, the young +man laughed dazedly. But he kept tight hold of the old one's hand, and +fell to patting it with wild reassurance. + +"Everything's all right--all right! Yes, indeed, sir. Of course! But I +don't understand--I don't grasp--I came here looking for--Are +you--_you_--Mr. Higginson?" + +"Ah, you hadn't guessed then? And yet who could wonder, such a terrible, +frightful mix-up as it all became! You see," the old gentleman hurried +on, lowering his gaze, yet already recovering something of his normal +composure, "you had scarcely started before I--I became strangely uneasy +over the--seriousness of the matter and the possible consequences, +and--and decided that I had best come on myself in--in a private manner, +merely to have an eye on things. Believe me, that was all I meant. But I +did not dare let you know that I was here, even in that way, having +promised you that I would not interfere, and besides--I feared that you +might think I had--ah--withheld the full facts about--her age." + +In an access of nervous self-consciousness, the old man's voice trailed +to an uncertain pause; and Varney comforted him with a burst of +bewildered laughter. + +"Forgive my glassy stare--no offence intended, but my head's going +around, Mr. Higginson! It's all still nebulous, you +know--topsy-turvy--incredible! That day of the luncheon, now--the +mysterious warning--the bribe to Ferguson to smash up the yacht--" + +A fine flush spread over the old man's face to the roots of his +silvered hair. Yet it was obvious that the young man's unaffected +cordiality had heartened him immensely. + +"Well, you see, my dear boy," he began, embarrassedly, "by that time I +had met her--she was so sweet to me from the start--and I began to hope +that such heroic, such painful, measures might not be necessary. Yet +perhaps they would be, after all, and so--ah, I did wrong, I +know--wrong!--and yet--don't you see how inevitably it all came about? I +did not dare communicate with you, begging you to let matters stand a +few days--fearing that upon learning of my presence you would simply +abandon the commission entirely, and God knows you would have been +justified in doing so. Yet I longed to postpone the--the final step, +holding it in reserve, in the ardent hope that it might be avoided +entirely. So I--gave instructions to Ferguson. It was wrong not to trust +you, and oh, I have been punished for it, suffered miserably--" + +"_Dear_ sir! I'm so sorry! But that is all past now--all past--and +to-day all's right with the world!" + +The old man's hands tightened their earnest clasp. Tears sprang suddenly +into his fine eyes. + +"But oh, I have been richly blest, too--far beyond my deserts! The night +that you were hurt--I came quite unexpectedly face to face with Mrs. +Carstairs at the cottage. We had a long talk that night--a wonderful +talk, which gave me a totally new point of view, brought me new light +and peace. And now--everything is arranged, and if you have truly +forgiven me, I am happy as I never dreamed for happiness again." + +"Forgiven you! For what, dear sir? Why, don't you begin to guess yet +what you have done for me?" + +He tucked the old man's hand masterfully under his arm, and drew him to +the door. + +"God bless you, boy, for what _you've_ done for me and mine. +But--where--where are we going?" + +"Out into the world," said Varney, "where Mary Carstairs is waiting for +you and me." + +"But--but--I feel extremely nervous--does she know?" + +"She is going to know in about thirty seconds, and we are the three +happiest people in America." + +"I think," said the old man palely, "that she--she likes me--" + +"In less than a minute," said the young one, "she is going to love you." + +His voice betrayed him a little on the words, but he instantly recovered +his poise, and, hand on the knob, faced the other with his gayest smile. + +"Tell me, Mr. Higginson--_did_ you skip to New York that afternoon, when +Maginnis and I, you know, dashed up here to assassinate you?" + +"Yes," replied the handsome old intriguer with a nervous cough, "yes, +I--you see, it had been reported to me that Mr. Maginnis had threatened +to horsewhip me in the public square, after my attempt to buy the paper +and save us all from scandal. So naturally, on the afternoon you +mention, I--I anticipated trouble. However, I quietly returned to +Hunston on the next train back, going, of course, to a different hotel, +a most dreadful little place--" + +Varney shouted. + +"It's just as Peter said, I declare! You're the noblest plotter of them +all, Mr. Higginson. Dear old Hunston will not look upon your like +again." + +The two enemies came out into the corridor arm-in-arm, and advanced in +utter amity to the doorway. And as they walked, Varney's tongue +unloosed, and he spoke his still incredible happiness aloud: only, +because he was not Latin and exuberant, he spoke it according to the +indirect uses of his race. + +"That man we passed standing in the hall--the one with the face of +incredulity and chagrin--was old Callery--horribly miffed because you +and I failed to lock in mortal combat. He's a fine fellow, Callery is, +only I imagine he's had a lot of hard luck. Did you ever see a prettier +little hotel than this--I mean, of course, for a town of this size? +_Look_! That's the clerk behind the desk there. An amazingly clever +fellow--you just ought to have seen how sharp he was in knowing where +you were--and that's a _Cypriani_ cigar he's smoking, if you'd like to +know. Jim Hackley's house is just over on the other corner--why, you can +_see_ it from here. I want you to know Hackley, sir! A great big +whimsical fellow with a fist like a ham and a heart like a woman's.... +Ah!..." + +They emerged from the hotel upon the noisy street, still lively with the +rush of home-goers; and now the two men stood side by side before the +waiting carriage, and Varney's flow of talk had ceased. + +From the square there came the shouts of many lingerers, making merry +in the tail of the great day according to their desire. Down either +sidewalk poured a stream of people, laughing, talking, and calling to +each other; the street still rumbled under passing vehicles; the Palace +Hotel, in particular, had become a lodestone and near to Tommy's +victoria much human traffic converged. In truth, it was a public place +where all who wished could see, and many did see. Yet there was nothing +in the little scene to fix the gaze of the casual wayfarer: a young girl +sitting in a well-appointed carriage, and two men, one young and one +old, approaching with bared heads to speak to her. Only a close observer +would have been likely to notice that the old man's cheek was markedly +pale, and that upon the marred face of the younger one there had +descended a strange and solemn look.... + +For Mary there had been no surprise in seeing the young man come out to +her with the old one on his arm--had he not told her that he went in +peace?--and even the glorious metamorphosis in Mr. Higginson's +appearance quite failed to arrest her attention. She had smoothed his +approach with a welcoming smile and the beginning of a gay greeting; but +her eyes were for her lover. And now as she saw the look on Varney's +face, and became aware of the odd and impressive silence in which he +stood, like one called to officiate at some high ceremony, understanding +incredibly dawned within her, and she was suddenly without speech or +breath. Her little greeting was never finished; all at once her face, +grown wonderfully sweet, was whiter than the old man's own; and the +eyes which she now turned back to him were full and overfull of tears. + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, not quite steadily, "may I have the great +honor of presenting your father?" + + +THE END + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captivating Mary Carstairs, by +Henry Sydnor Harrison + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + +***** This file should be named 9993.txt or 9993.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/9/9/9/9993/ + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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CROSBY + +(_This book was first published pseudonymously in February, 1911_) + + + + +1910, 1914. + + + + +TO NAWNY: HER BOOK + + + + +_NOTE_ + + +_This book, representing the writer's first effort at a long story, has +something of a story of its own. First planned in 1900 or 1901, it was +begun in 1905, and finished at length, in a version, three years later. +Through the two years succeeding it underwent various adventures, +including, if memory serves, two complete overhauling. Having thus +reached by stages something like its present form, it was, in August, +1910, favorably reported on by the publishers; but yet another rewriting +preceded its final acceptance, a few weeks later. Meanwhile, I had +turned to fresh work; and, as it chanced, "Queed" was both begun and +finished in the interval while "Captivating Mary Carstairs" was taking +her last journeys abroad. Turned away by two publishers, the newer +manuscript shortly found welcome from a third. So it befell that I, as +yet more experienced in rejections, suddenly found myself with two +books, of widely different sorts and intentions, scheduled for +publication by different publishers, almost simultaneously. As this +seemed to be more books than society required from an unknown writer, it +was decided to put out the present story--which is a "story," as I +conceive the terms, and not a novel--over a pen name. + +At that time, be it said, with an optimism that now has its humorous +side, I viewed myself prospectively as a ready and fertile writer, +producing a steady flow of books of very various sorts. Hence it +occurred to me that a pseudonym might have a permament serviceability. +So far from these anticipations proving justified, I am now moved to +abandon the pseudonym in the only instance I have had occasion to use +it. Writers have sometimes been charged with seeking to capitalize their +own good fortune. My motive, in authorizing the republication of this +story over my name, is not that. The fact is only that experience has +taught me not to like pseudonymity: my feeling being that those who take +an interest in my work are entitled, if they so desire, to see it as a +whole_. + +H.S.H. + +_Charleston, West Virginia, 16 March, 1914_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I The Chief Conspirator Secures a Pal + +II They Embark upon a Crime + +III They Arrive in Hunston and Fall in with a Stranger + +IV Which Concerns Politics and other Local Matters + +V Introduces Mary Carstairs and Another + +VI The Hero Talks with a Lady in the Dark + +VII In which Mary Carstairs is Invited to the Yacht "Cypriani" + +VIII Concerning Mr. Ferris Stanhope, the Popular Novelist; also Peter, +the Quiet Onlooker + +IX Varney Meets with a Galling Rebuff, while Peter Goes Marching On + +X The Editor of the _Gazette_ Plays a Card from His Sleeve + +XI Which Shows the Hero a Fugitive + +XII A Yellow Journalist Secures a Scoop but Fails to Get Away with it + +XIII Varney Meets His Enemy and is Disarmed + +XIV Conference between Mr. Hackley, the Dog Man, and Mr. Ryan, the Boss + +XV In which Varney Does Not Pay a Visit, but Receives One + +XVI Wherein Several Large Difficulties are Smoothed Away + +XVII A Little Luncheon Party on the Yacht "Cypriani" + +XVIII Captivating Mary + +XIX In which Mr. Higginson and the Sailing-Master Both Merit Punishment, +and Both Escape it + +XX Varney, Having Embarked upon a Crime, Finds out that there is a Price +to Pay + +XXI Mr. Ferris Stanhope Meets His Double; and Lets the Double Meet +Everything Else + +XXII Relating How Varney Fails to Die; and Why Smith Remained in +Hunston; and How a Reception is Planned for Mr. Higginson + +XXIII In which Varney, after all, Redeems His Promise + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + + + +Captivating Mary Carstairs + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR SECURES A PAL + +In a rear room of a quaint little house uptown, a great bronzed-faced +man sat at a piano, a dead pipe between his teeth, and absently played +the most difficult of Beethoven's sonatas. Though he played it divinely, +the three men who sat smoking and talking in a near-by corner paid not +the least attention to him. The player, it seemed, did not expect them +to: he paid very little attention himself. + +Next to the selection of members, that is, no doubt, the most highly +prized thing about the Curzon Club: you are not expected to pay +attention unless you want to. It is a sanctuary where no one can bore +you, except yourself. The members have been chosen with this in mind, +and not chosen carelessly. + +Lord Pembroke, who married a Philadelphian, is quoted as saying that the +Curzon is the most democratic club in a too confoundedly democratic +country. M. Arly, the editor, has told Paris that it is the most +exclusive club in the world. Probably both were right. The electing +board is the whole club, and a candidate is stone-dead at the first +blackball; but no stigma attaches to him for that. Of course, it is a +small club. Also, though money is the least of all passports there, it +is a wealthy club. No stretch of the imagination could describe its dues +as low. But through its sons of plutocracy, and their never-ending +elation at finding themselves in, has arisen the Fund, by which poor but +honest men can join, and do join, with never a thought of ways and +means. Of these Herbert Horning, possibly the best-liked man in the +club, who supported a large family off the funny department of a +magazine, was one. He had spurned the suggestion when it was first made +to him, and had reluctantly foregone his election; whereon Peter +Maginnis had taken him aside, a dash of red in his ordinarily composed +eye. + +"How much?" he demanded brutally. + +"How much for what?" + +"How much for you?" roared Peter. "How much must the club pay you to get +you in?" + +Horning stared, pained. + +"God meant no man to be a self-conscious ass," said Peter more mildly. +"The club pays you a high compliment, and you have the nerve to reply +that you don't take charity. I suppose if Congress voted you a medal for +writing the funniest joke in America, you'd have it assayed and remit +the cash. Chuck it, will you? Once in a year we find a man we want, and +then we go ahead and take him. We don't think much of money here but--as +I say, how much?" + +The "but" implied that Horning did, and hurt as it was meant to. He came +into the club, took cheerfully what they offered him that way, and felt +grateful ever afterwards that Maginnis had steered him to the light. + +The big man, Maginnis himself, sat on at the piano, his great fingers +rambling deftly over the keys. He was playing Brahms now and doing it +magnificently. He was fifteen stone, all bone and muscle, and looked +thirty pounds heavier, because you imagined, mistakenly, that he carried +a little fat. He was the richest man in the club, at least so far as +prospects went, but he wore ready-made clothes, and one inferred, +correctly, that a suit of them lasted him a long time. He looked capable +of everything, but the fact was that he had done nothing. But for his +money and a past consisting of thirty years of idleness, he might have +been the happiest dog alive. + +"The best government," said one of the three men who were not listening +to the piano, "is simply the surest method for putting public opinion +into power." + +The sentence drifted over the player's shoulder and Brahms ended with a +crash. + +"Balzac said that," he cried, rising abruptly, "and said it better! But, +good heavens, how you both miss the point! Why, let me tell you." + +But this they stoutly declined to do. Amid laughter and protests--for +the big man's hobbies were well known to the club--two of them sprang up +in mock terror, and headed for the door. They indicated that they had +promised each other to play billiards and dared not break the +engagement. + +"I couldn't stay to the end, anyway, Peter," explained one, from the +door. "My wife sits up when I'm out after midnight. Meet me here for +breakfast some bank-holiday, and we'll give the day to it." + +Maginnis, who never got over feeling disappointed when he saw his +audience slipping away from him, sighed, searched through his frowzy +pockets for a match, lit his pipe, and fell upon a lounge near to all +the society that was left him. + +"Why weren't you up?" said this society presently. + +"The idea of dinner was repellent to me." + +"To you, Peter--the famous trencherman of song and story? Why this +unwonted daintiness?" + +"Lassitude. Too weary to climb the stairs. Besides, I wasn't hungry." + +"Ah," said Reggie Townes, "you have the caveman's idea of dinner, I see. +It strikes you as purely an occasion for purveying provender to man's +interior. The social feature eludes you. You know what I think, Peter? +You ought to go to work." + +"_Work!_" + +"That's the word. What of it?" + +"Not a thing. The idea was new to me; that's all." + +"Persiflage and all that aside, why don't you take a stab at politics?" + +"Politics! Here in New York! I'd sooner go into Avernus of the easy +descent. If you had a town to run all by yourself now, there might be +something in it. That idea of yours as to going to work, while +unquestionably novel, strikes me as rather clever." + +"No credit belongs to me," said Townes, "if I happened to be born +brilliant instead of good-looking." + +"I'll ponder it," said Peter; and stretching out his great hand with a +gesture which banished the subject, he pushed a service button and +begged Townes to be so kind as to name his poison. + +Outside in the hall a voice just then called his name, and Maginnis +answered. + +A young man in evening dress strolled through the doorway, a tallish, +lithe young man with a pleasant clean-cut face and very light hair. It +was evident enough that he patronized a good tailor. He glanced at the +two men, nodded absently, and dropped without speech into a chair near +the door. Townes eyed him somewhat quizzically. + +"Evening, Larry. A little introspective to-night, yes?" + +Peter said: "By bull luck you have stumbled into a company of gentlemen +about to place an order. Go ahead. Mention a preference." + +The young man, unseeing eyes on Peter, did not answer. Instead, he +sprang up, as though struck by a thought of marked interest and bolted +out the door. They saw him vanish into the telephone booth across the +hall and bang the glass door shut behind him. + +"Forgot an engagement." + +"You mean remembered one," said Peter. + +"It all figures out to the same answer," said Townes; and glancing +presently at his watch, he announced that he must be trotting on. + +"But I've ordered something for you, man." + +"Varney can use it, can't he?" + +The door opened, and the tallish young man stood on the threshold again, +this time social and affable. His distraitness, oddly enough, had all +gone. He greeted the two in the smoking-room as though he had seen them +for the first time that evening; expressed his pleasure at being in +their company; inquired after their healths and late pursuits; pressed +cigarettes upon them. + +They rallied him upon his furtive movements and fickle demeanor, but +drew only badinage in kind, and no explanations; and Townes, laughing, +turned to the door. + +"Dally with us yet a little while, Reggie." + +"No, gentles, no! I'm starting abroad to-night and have already dallied +too long." + +"Abroad!" + +"My sister," said Townes, "as perhaps you don't know, wedded a +foreigner--Willy Harcourt, born and raised in Brooklyn. Therefore, I am +now leaving to go to a party in Brooklyn. Say that to yourself +slowly--'a party in Brooklyn!' Sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? If +the worst happens, I look to you fellows to break it to my mother. +Please mention that I was smiling to the last." + +He waved a farewell and disappeared into the hall. Varney dropped into +the chair Townes had left empty, and elevated his feet to the lounge +where sprawled the length of Peter Maginnis. Peter looked up and the +eyes of the two men met. + +"Well, Laurence? What is the proposition?" "Proposition? What do you +mean?" + +"An ass," replied Maginnis, pumping seltzer into a tall glass, "could +see that you have something on your mind." + +Varney pulled a match from the little metal box-holder, and looked at +him with reluctant admiration. "Sherlock Holmes Maginnis! I _have_ +something on my mind. A friend dropped it there half an hour ago, and +now I 've come to drop it on yours." He glanced at the room's two doors +and saw that both were shut. "Time is short. The outfit upstairs may +drift in any minute. Listen. Do you recall telling me the other day, +with tears in your eyes, that you were slowly dying for something new +and interesting to do?" + +Peter nodded. + +"I think of your pleasure," said Varney, "always. By looking about me +and keeping my eyes and ears open at all hours, I have found you just +the thing." + +"New and interesting?" + +"There are men in this town who would run themselves to death trying to +get in it on the ground floor." + +Maginnis shook his head. + +"I have done everything in this world," he said almost sadly, "except, I +may say, the felonies." + +"But this," said Varney, "is a felony." + +Struck by his tone, Peter glanced up. "Mean it?" + +"Sure thing." + +"As I remarked before, what is the proposition?" + +"To sum it all up in a word," said Varney, "there's a job of kidnapping +on and I happened to get the contract. That's all there is to the little +trifle." + +Peter swung his feet around to the floor, and sat up. His conviction +that Varney was trying to be funny died hard. + +Varney laughed. "I need a pal," he added. "Five minutes ago I telephoned +and got permission to offer the place to you." + +"Stop being so confounded mysterious," Peter broke out, "and go ahead!" + +Varney blew smoke thoughtfully and said, "I will. In fact, that's what I +came for. It's a devil of a delicate little matter to talk about to +anybody, as it happens. Of course, what I tell you must never go an inch +further, whether you come along or not." + +"Naturally." + +"You know my Uncle Elbert?" + +"Old Carstairs?" + +Varney nodded. "He wouldn't thank you for the adjective, though. I got +the contract from him. By the way, he's not my uncle, of course; he was +simply a great friend of my mother's. I inherited the friendship, and in +these last five years he and I have somehow managed to get mighty close +together. Eight years or so ago," he continued, "as you may, or may not +know, Uncle Elbert and his wife parted. There wasn't a thing the matter, +I believe, except that they weren't hitting it off particularly well. +They simply agreed to disagree. _Nouveau riche_, and all that, wasn't +it? Mrs. Carstairs has some money of her own. She picked up, packed up, +walked out, bought a place up the river, near Hunston, and has lived +there ever since." + +Peter looked up quickly. "Hunston? Ha! But fire away." + +"She and Uncle Elbert have stayed pretty good friends all through it. +They exchange letters now and then, and once or twice when she has been +in the city, I believe they have met--though not in recent years. My +private suspicion is that she has never entirely got over being in love +with him. Anyhow, there's their general relationship in a +nutshell--parted but friendly. It might have stayed just like that till +they were both in their graves, but for one accidental complication. +There is a child." + +"I seem to remember," said Peter. "A little boy." + +"On the contrary. A little girl. Uncle Elbert," said Varney, "is a bit +of a social butterfly. Mrs. Carstairs is an earnest domestic character. +As I gather, that was what they clashed on--the idea of what a home +ought to be. When the split came, Mrs. Carstairs took the child and +Uncle Elbert was willing enough to have her do it. That was natural +enough, Peter. He had his friends and his clubs and his little dinners, +and he was no more competent to raise a girl baby than you are, which is +certainly going some for a comparison. I suppose the fact was that he +was glad to be free of the responsibility. But it's mighty different +now. + +"You see," said Varney, lighting one cigarette from another and +throwing the old one away, "he must be pretty lonely all by himself in +that big house of his. On top of that he's getting old and isn't in very +good health. Explain it any way you like. The simple fact is that within +this last year or so, it's gradually gotten to be a kind of obsession +with him, an out-and-out, down-and-out monomania, to know that kid--to +have her come and spend part of every year with him. That's natural, +too, I should say." + +"H'm. Mrs. Carstairs sticks to her like fly-paper, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. She admits Uncle Elbert's rights and is entirely willing to +let him have Mary--for such is our little heroine's name--for part of +the time. It is the child who is doing the fly-paper business. The +painful fact is that she declines to have anything whatever to do with +her father. Invitations, commands, entreaties--she spurns them all. Yes, +I asked him if they had tried spanking, but he didn't answer--seemed +rather miffed, in fact. The child simply will not come, and that is +point number one. Now, of course, Uncle Elbert realizes that he has not +been what the world would call a good father. And he has figured it out +that Mary, evidently a young precocity, has judged him, found him +guilty, and sentenced him to banishment from her affections. That hurts, +you know. Well, he is certain that if he could once see her and be +thrown with her for a few days, she would find that he is not such an +old ogre, after all, would take him back as a father, as we might say, +and that after that everything would be plain sailing. That's his +theory. The point is how to see her and be thrown with her for the +necessary few days." + +"Why does n't he get on the train and go to Hunston? Or, if Mrs. +Carstairs is really so decent about the thing, why doesn't she get on +the train and bring Mary down here?" + +"Good. I put both of those up to him, and they seemed to embarrass him a +little. I gathered that he had suggested them both to Mrs. Carstairs, +and that she had turned them down hard. The ground seemed delicate. You +see, we must allow for the personal equation in all this. No matter +where they met, he couldn't hang around the house getting acquainted +with Mary without coming into sort of intimate contact with Mrs. +Carstairs, and giving a kind of domestic touch to their relations. You +see how that is. She wants to be fair and generous about it, but if she +is in love with him, that would be a little more than flesh and blood +could bear, I suppose. Then, as I say, there is the pig-headedness of +the child. Anyway, Uncle Elbert assures me that both those plans are +simply out of the question. So there is the situation. Mary won't come +to see him by herself. Mrs. Carstairs won't bring Mary to see him, and +she won't let him come to see Mary. Well, what remains?" + +Peter said nothing. In a room overhead a manifestly improvised quartet +struck up "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot?" with great enthusiasm. + +"You see there is only one thing. The old gentleman," said Varney, "has +brooded over the matter till it's broken him all up. He was in bed when +I was there just now. He asked me to go to Hunston and bring his +daughter to him. I told him that kidnapping was a little out of my line. +'Kidnapping is rather a harsh word,' he said. 'Yes,' said I, 'it's a +criminal word, I believe.' But--" + +Peter looked up, interrupting. "Is this all straight? Is that really +what he wants you to do?" + +"Naturally, Peter. Why not? You cling to the theory that such heroic +measures are entirely unnecessary? So did I till I had threshed the +whole thing up and down with Uncle Elbert for an hour and a half, trying +to suggest some alternative that didn't look so silly. Kindly get the +facts well into your head, will you? The man must pursue Mary's +affection either there or here, mustn't he? He can't do it there because +his wife won't let him. In order to do it here, one would say offhand +that Mary would have to be here, and since her mother declines to bring +her, it does look to me as if the job would have to be done by somebody +else. However, if my logic is wrong, kindly let your powerful--" + +"I don't say it's wrong. I merely say that it sounds like a cross +between a modern pork-king's divorce suit and a seventeenth century +peccadillo." + +"And I reply that I don't care a hoot how it sounds. The only question +of any interest to me, Peter, is whether or not Uncle Elbert has a moral +right to a share in his own child. I say that he has such a right, and I +say further that this is the only way in the world that he can assert +his right. Oh, hang how it sounds! I'm the nearest thing to a son that +he has in this world, and I mean for him to have his rights. So--" + +"Very fine," said Peter dryly. "But what's the matter with Carstairs +getting his rights for himself? Why doesn't he sneak up there and pull +the thing off on his own?" + +Varney laughed. "Evidently you don't know Uncle Elbert, after all. He's +as temperamentally unfit to carry through a job of this sort as a +hysterical old lady. Besides, even though they haven't met for so long, +I suppose his own daughter would recognize him, wouldn't she? I never +gave that idea a thought. Like his wife, he says he wants to have +nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, I made him put that in the form +of a promise--he's to give me an absolutely free hand, subject to the +conditions, and not interfere in any way. In return I ended by swearing +a great iron-clad oath not only to go, but to bring the child back with +me. The swear was Uncle Elbert's idea, and I didn't mind. Confound +it!--this is getting rather intimate, but here is Mrs. Carstairs's +letter giving a partial consent to the thing. It just got in this +afternoon; he sent for me the minute he'd read it, I believe, and I +never saw a man more excited." + +He pulled a scrawled and crossed note-sheet from his pocket, and read in +a guarded and slightly embarrassed voice: + +HUNSTON, 25th of September. + +MY DEAR ELBERT,--I hardly know how to answer you, though I have been +over and over the whole subject on my knees. As you know, if I could +send Mary to you, I would, sadly as I should miss her, for the wish +lies close to my heart to have her know her father. But she will not +hear of leaving me and there is an end of that. What you suggest is so +new and so _dreadful_ in many ways that it is very hard to consent to +it. Of course, I realize that it is not right for me to have her always. +But the utmost I can bring myself to say is that if you can succeed in +what you propose I will do nothing to interfere with you, and will see +that there is no scandal here afterwards. Of course, I am to have no +part in it, and no force is to be used, and everything is to be made as +agreeable for her as is possible under the circumstances. Oh, I am +miserable and doubtful about the whole thing, but pray and trust that it +is for the best, and that she will find some way to forgive me for it +afterwards. + +A.E.C. + +"H'm. No force is to be used," said Peter. "May I ask just how you +expect to get Mary on the choo-choo?" + +"Now we are getting to the meat of the matter," said Varney. "We shall +not have to get Mary on the choo-choo at all. We are going to use a +yacht, which will be far more private and pleasant, and also far easier +to get people on. Uncle Elbert's _Cypriani_ lies in the harbor at this +moment, ready to start anywhere at half a day's notice. It will start +for Hunston to-morrow afternoon, with me on board. I'll need another man +to put the thing through right, and I'd rather trust a friend than a +servant. So would Uncle Elbert. When I came in here just now, I was at +once taken with your looks for the part, and I have been authorized by +'phone to give you first refusal on this great chance." + +Peter said nothing. Varney feared that he looked rather bored. + +"At first," he went on promptly, "I'll confess that I didn't see so much +in the thing. But the more I've thought of it the more its unique charm +has appealed to me. It is nothing more nor less than a novel, piquant +little adventure. Exactly the sort of thing to attract a man who likes +to take a sporting chance. Look at the difficulties of it. Go to a +strange town where there are thousands and millions of strange children, +locate Mary, isolate her, make friends with her, coax her to the +yacht--captivate her, capture her! How are we to do all that, you ask? I +reply, the Lord knows. That is where the sport comes in. We are +forbidden to use force. We are forbidden to use Mrs. Carstairs or bring +her into it in any way. We are forbidden, of course, to let the child +know who we are. Everything must be done by almost diabolical craft, +while dodging suspicion at every step. Can you beat it for a fascinating +little expedition?" + +Peter relit his pipe and meditatively dropped the match on the floor. +"How old is Mary?" + +"Old?" said Varney, surprised at the question, "Oh, I don't know. The +separation took place--h'm--say eight years ago, and my guess is that +she was about four at the time. From this and the way Uncle Elbert spoke +of her, I daresay twelve would hit it fair and square. A grand age for +kidnapping, what?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter, "it makes it mere baby-work. Turn it over +as you will, it all boils down to spanking a naughty child." + +"Never! Think of slipping a cog in our plans--making a false start, +having somebody get on to us! Why, man, there may be jail for us both in +this!" + +He examined Peter's face hopefully, but found unaffected apathy there. + +"Suppose," he cried boastfully, "that the Associated Press got on to it! +Think of the disgrace of it! 'Millionaire Maginnis Caught Kidnapping!' +Think of being fired from the Curzon and having to leave New York a +hunted and broken man! Think," he added in an inspired climax, "of +having your photograph in the Sunday _Herald_!" + +Maginnis perked up visibly at this. "There is no chance of that really, +do you think?" + +"None in the world," said Varney desperately. + +He felt sure that this had cost him Peter, whom he had come to as his +oldest and best friend. Having no idea whom he could turn to next, he +rose, tentatively, and for the moral effect, to go. + +"After all," he said aloud, "I have another man in my mind who would, on +second thoughts, suit me better." + +"Oh, sit down!" cried Peter, impatiently. + +Larry sat down. His face showed, in spite of him, how really anxious he +was to have Peter go. There was a brief pause. + +"Since you are so crazy to have me," said Peter, "I'll go." + +"Thank you," said Varney. He picked up his glass, which he had hitherto +not touched, drained it at a gulp and pushed the bell vigorously. "I +knew," he cried, "that you'd see the possibilities when once your brain +began to work." + +Peter's faint smile was an insult in its way. "Three things have decided +me to go with you, old son, and none of them has anything to do with +your possibilities. The first is that I'm the one man in a million you +really need in case of trouble." + +"Peter, your modesty is your curse." + +"The second is--did you read the _Sun_ this morning? It seems that this +little town of Hunston is having a violent spasm of politics right now. +Rather lucky coincidence, I should say. The dispatch I read was pretty +vague, but I gather that there's an interesting fight on between a +strong machine and a small but firm reform movement." + +"Ha! Occupation for you while I beat the woods for little Mary." + +"I'll need it." + +"Well, what was your other wonderful reason?" + +"Don't you know? It is that sixty horse-power oath your uncle made you +swear." + +"Because it committed me, you mean?" + +The door opened, men entered noisily, and Peter had to draw Varney aside +to explain darkly: "Because it committed me to wondering what +difficulties foxy old Carstairs made a point of concealing from you." + +"Meet me upstairs in ten minutes," said Varney, "and we'll talk about +plans." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +THEY EMBARK UPON A CRIME + +Varney was wrong in one thing: Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ was not ready +to start anywhere at half a day's notice. For that reason it did not +start for Hunston on the following afternoon. As always happens, the +preparations for the little expedition took four times as long as +anybody would have thought possible. + +For these delays no blame could be attached to Peter Maginnis. He had no +getting ready to do beyond bidding his father's man to pack him for a +week, and obtaining from his hatter's, at an out-of-season cut-price, an +immense and peculiar Panama with an offensive plaid band. Possibly it +was the only hat of its kind in the world. One might picture the +manufacturer as having it made up as an experiment, becoming morose when +he looked at it, and ordering his superintendent to make no more like it +at the peril of his life. + +Peter, however, was delighted with it. Gazing at himself with smirking +satisfaction in the hat-shop mirror, he ordered the old one sent home +and was all ready to go to Hunston and kidnap Mary Carstairs. + +But other preparations could not be completed with such speedy +satisfaction. The yacht had to coal, take on supplies, and pick up two +or three extra men for the crew. A Sunday came in and threw everything +back a day. Lastly the sailing-master's wife, whom Mr. Carstairs was +sending along to take charge of Mary on the homeward trip, chanced to be +down with an influenza. + +As the details of getting ready multiplied about him, Varney's interest +in his novel undertaking imperceptibly grew. The thing had come upon him +so unexpectedly that it had not yet by any means lost its strangeness. +To the old friend of his mother's girlhood, Elbert Carstairs, he was +sincerely devoted, though knowing him for an indulgent man whose +indulgences were chiefly of himself. But when, responding to his excited +summons that night, he had sat and listened while Mr. Carstairs unfolded +his mad little domestic plot, he had been first utterly amazed and then +utterly repelled. And it was not until a final sense of the old man's +genuine need was borne in upon him, of his loneliness, his helplessness, +and his entire dependence upon him, Varney, that he had consented to +undertake the extraordinary commission. + +In a sense, it was all simply preposterous. Here was he, Laurence +Varney, in sane mind, of law-abiding habits and hitherto of tolerable +standing in the community, solemnly pledged to go and steal the person +of a child, in defiance and contempt of the statutes of all known +nations. And the place where this lawless deed was to be done was not +Ruritania or the hazy dominions of Prince Otto, but a commonplace, +humdrum American town, not an hour and a half from his office chair by +the expresses. + +In going about this task he was to conduct himself with the frankness +and straightforwardness of a sneak-thief. Not a soul in New York was to +know where he had gone. Not a soul in Hunston must dimly suspect what he +had come for. It must be gum-shoe work from start to finish, and the +_Cypriani's_ motto would be the inspiring word, "Sh-h-h." Though he had +to find a nondescript child whom he did not know from Eve, he was +forbidden to do it in a natural, easy, and dashing way. He could not +ring her mother's door-bell, ask for her, throw a meal-sack over her +head, and whip his waiting horses to a gallop. No, he must beat the tall +grasses before the old homestead until such time as she chose to walk +abroad alone. Really, when you came to think of it, it was an asinine +sort of proposition. + +But when Mary did come out of that house, he saw that the fun would +begin. A well brought-up, moneyed, petted and curled girl of twelve was +no easy pawn in anybody's game. He could not win her love by a mere +offer of gum-drops. In fact, getting acquainted was likely to be a +difficult matter, taxing his ingenuity to a standstill. But he +entertained no doubts of his ability to do it, sooner or later. + +"Not to put too fine a point on it," mused he, glancing out of his +twentieth story window, "they flock to me, children do. I'm their good +old Uncle Dudley. But why the deuce isn't she five years younger?" + +Clearly, it was the next step that was the most delicate: getting Mary +aboard the yacht. This was both the crux and the _finale_ of the whole +thing: for Uncle Elbert was to be waiting for them, in a closed +carriage, at a private dock near 130th Street (Peter remaining in +Hunston to notify him by telephone of the start down), and Varney's +responsibilities were over when the _Cypriani_ turned her nose homeward. +But here lay the thin ice. If anything should happen to go wrong at the +moment when they were coaxing Mary on the yacht, if there was a leak in +their plans or anybody suspected anything, he saw that the situation +might be exceedingly awkward. The penalties for being fairly caught with +the goods promised to be severe. As to kidnapping, he certainly +remembered reading in the newspapers that some States punished it with +death. At any rate, maybe the natives would try to thrash him and Peter. +In hopeful moments he conjured up visions of the deuce to pay. + +But, after all, he was going to Hunston, whether he liked it or not, +simply because Uncle Elbert had asked him. The lonely old gentleman, he +knew, loved him like a son: he had turned straight to him in his hour of +need. This had touched the young man, and had finally made up his mind +for him. Moreover Mary, a spoiled little piece who was suffered to set +her smug childish will against the combined wills of both her parents, +aroused his keenest antipathy. To put her in her place, to teach her +that children must obey their parents in the Lord, was a duty to +society, to the State. What Uncle Elbert wanted with such a child, he +could not conceive; but since he did want her, have her he should. +Tilting back his office chair and running his hand through his hair, +Varney longed to spank her. + +This thought came to him, definitely and for about the seventh time, at +half-past one o'clock on the third day, Monday. At the same moment, his +telephone-bell rang sharply. It was the sailing-master to say that his +good spouse had come aboard and that everything on the _Cypriani_ was in +readiness for the start. + +"I'll be on board inside of an hour," said Varney. + +He telephoned to Uncle Elbert, telephoned to Peter, and locked up his +desk. To his office he casually gave out that pressing business matters +were calling him out of town for a day or two. + +The two young men had been as furtive as possible about their proposed +journey. They had not met since the night Varney had dangled the hope of +jail and disgrace into Peter's lightening face, and so, or otherwise, +cajoled him into going along. Both of them had kept carefully away from +the _Cypriani_. Now they proceeded to her by different routes, and +reached her at different times, Peter first. Their luggage had gone +aboard before them, and there was no longer a thing to wait for. At +three o'clock, on Varney's signal, the ship's bell sounded, her whistle +shrieked, and she slid off through the waters of the bay. + +About the start there was nothing in the least dramatic: they had merely +begun moving through the water and that was all. The _Cypriani_, for all +her odd errand, was merely one of a thousand boats which indifferently +crossed each other's wakes in one of the most crowded harbors in the +world. + +"For all the lime-light we draw," observed Maginnis, drinking in the +freshening breeze, "we might be running up to Harlem to address the +fortnightly meeting of a Girls' Friendly Society." + +Varney said: "Give us a chance, will you?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THEY ARRIVE IN HUNSTON AND FALL IN WITH A STRANGER + +The landscape near Hunston, as it happened, was superfluously pretty. It +deserved a group of resident artists to admire and to catch it upon +canvas; and it had, roughly speaking, only artisans out of a job. The +one blot was the town, sprawling hideously over the hillside. Set down +against the perennial wood, by the side of the everlasting river, it +looked very cheap and common. But all this was by day. Now night fell +upon the poor little city and mercifully hid it from view. + +They had made the start too late for hurry to be any object. It was only +a three hours' run for the _Cypriani_, but she took it slowly, using +four. At half-past six o'clock, when their destination was drawing near, +the two men went below and dined. At seven, while they were still at +table, they heard the slow-down signal, and, a moment later, the rattle +of the anchor line. Now, at quarter-past seven, Varney lounged alone by +the starboard rail and acquainted himself with the purview. + +They had run perhaps quarter of a mile above the town, for reasons which +he had not communicated to the sailing-master in transmitting his +orders. One was that they might be removed somewhat from native +curiosity. The other was, they might be near the Carstairs residence, +which was up this way somewhere. So, between the yacht and the town lay +hill and wood intervening. The _Cypriani_, so to say, had anchored in +the country. Only a light glimmering here and there through the trees +indicated the nearness of man's abode. + +A soporific quality lurked in the quiet solitude, and Varney, sunk in a +deck-chair, yawned. They had decided at dinner that they would do +nothing that night but go to bed, for it seemed plain that there was +nothing else to do: little girls did not ramble abroad alone after dark. +Up the companion-way and over the glistening after-deck strolled Peter, +an eye-catching figure in the flooding moonlight. For, retiring to his +stateroom from the table, he had divested himself of much raiment and +encased his figure in a great purple bathrobe. He was a man who loved to +be comfortable, was Peter. Topping the robe, he wore his new Panama. +Varney looked around at the sound of footsteps, and was considerably +struck by his friend's appearance. + +"Feeling well, old man?" he asked with solicitude. + +"Certainly." + +"Not seasick at all? You won't let me fetch you the hot-water bottle?" + +"No, ass." + +Peter sank down in an upholstered wicker chair with pillows in it, and +looked out appreciatively at the night. The yacht's lights were set, but +her deck bulbs hung dark; for the soft and shimmering radiance of the +sky made man's illumination an offense. + +However, aesthetics, like everything else, has its place in human +economy and no more. No one aboard the _Cypriani_ became so absorbed in +the marvels of nature as to become insensible to other pleasures. The +air, new and fine from the hands of its Maker, acquired a distinct +flavor of nicotine as it flitted past the yacht. From some hidden depth +rose the subdued and convalescent snores of that early retirer, the +sailing-master's wife. Below forward, two deck-hands were thoughtfully +playing set-back for pennies, while a machinist sat by and read a +sporting extra by a swinging bulb. Above forward, on a coil of rope, +McTosh, the head steward and one of Mr. Carstairs's oldest servants, +smoked a bad pipe, and expectorated stoically into the Hudson. + +The thought of the essential commonplaceness of this sort of thing +recurred to Peter Maginnis. For all his life of idleness, which was, as +it were, accidental, Peter was essentially a man of action; and life's +sedentary movements irked him sorely. + +"Who is the individual monkeying around at the bow?" he asked presently. + +"It is Mr. Bissett, the ship's engineer, who is putting a coat of white +lead over the yacht's name." + +"Aha! Aren't we old-sleuthy, though! And what's that piece of stage-play +for?" + +"All these little hookers," said Varney, "are listed in a book, which +many persons own. Why have the local press tell everybody to-morrow that +the yacht _Cypriani_ belonging to Mr. Carstairs, husband once-removed to +our own Mrs. Elbert Carstairs, is anchored off these shores?" + +"It seems," said Peter, "like a lot of smoke for such a little fire." + +He got up and sprawled on the rail, his yellow Panama pulled far over +his eyes, his gaze fixed on the shining water. + +"First and last, I've seen rivers in my time," he said presently, "big +and little, pretty and not, clean and soiled, decent and indecent. Yes, +boy," said he, "you can take it from me that I've seen the world's +darnedest in the matter of rivers, and I have liked them all from Ganges +to the Sacramento and back again. There was a time when I didn't have +that sort of personal feeling for 'em, but a little chap up in Canada, +he helped me to the light. He was the keenest on rivers I ever knew." + +He broke off to yawn greatly, started to resume, thought better of it, +checked himself, and presently said in an absent voice: + +"No, that's too long to tell." + +"There's two hours till bedtime." + +Peter straightened and began strolling aimlessly about the deck, half +regretting that they had decided to spend the evening on the yacht. +Varney looked after him with a certain sense of guilt. Against this +background of quiet night and moonlit peace, his enterprise began to +look very small and easy. A ramble through the pleasant woods over +there, a little girl met and played with, a leisurely stroll +hand-in-hand down a woodland path to the yacht--was it for this that he +had begged the assistance of Peter Maginnis, of the large administrative +abilities and the teeming energies? Varney began to be a little ashamed +of himself. To follow out Peter's own figure, it appeared that he had +called out the fire department to help him put out a smoking sheet of +note-paper on a hearth. + +Soon, in one of his goings and comings, Peter halted. "There was another +Hunston dispatch in the paper this morning," he vouchsafed. + +"Politics?" + +"Said the reform movement was a joke." + +"Good one?" + +"Good movement, you mean?" + +"No--good joke." + +"No reform movement is ever a good joke, under any circumstances +whatsoever. Where it appears a joke at all, it is the kind that would +appeal only to pinheads of the dottiest nature." + +"I see." + +"I'm going up there to-morrow," said Peter, nodding toward the town, +"and look into it a little. If there is time, I may even decide to show +these fellows how a reform proposition ought to be handled to ensure +results." + +Far off on the hill a single light twinkled through the trees, very +yellow against the pale moonlight. Varney's eye fell upon it and +absently held it. It was Mary Carstairs's light, though, of course, he +had no means of knowing that. + +Presently Peter lolled around and looked at him. "H'm! Sunk in a sodden +slumber, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. Interested by your conversation--fascinated. Ha! Here is +something to vary the evening's monotony. A row-boat is drifting +down-stream towards us. Let us make little wagers with each other as to +who'll be in it." + +He looked over his shoulder upward at the moon, which a flying scud of +cloud had momentarily veiled. Peter, who had sat down again, glanced up +the river. + +"I don't see any boat." + +"There is where the wager comes in, my son. Hurry up--the moon will pop +out in another minute, and spoil the sport." + +"Drifting, you say. Bet you she's empty--broke away from her moorings +and riding down with the current. Bet you half a dollar. My second bet," +he said, warming to the work, "is an old washerwoman and her little boy, +out on their rounds collecting clothes. It's Monday. In case both firsts +are wrong, second choices get the money." + +"My bet is--Ha! Stand ready with your half! There she comes--Jove!" + +"Good God!" cried Peter and sprang up. + +For the moon had jumped out from behind its cloud like a cuckoo in a +clock, and fallen full upon the drifting boat, now hardly fifty yards +away. In the bottom of it lay a man, sprawled over his useless oars, +his upturned face very white in the moonlight, limp legs huddled under +him anyhow. Something in the abandon of his position suggested that he +would not get up any more. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +WHICH CONCERNS POLITICS AND OTHER LOCAL MATTERS + +It was an odd sight against the setting of pretty night and light, idle +talk. Peter's lip tightened. + +"He's dead, poor chap!" he said, in a low voice. "Murdered." + +"So it seems. We can't be sure from here, though. Where's that watch? +Here--some of you! Lower away the dinghy! Get a move!" + +The boats were on their hooks, swung outboard ready for instant use. The +crew, tumbling out swiftly at the call, cleared away one and let it fall +over the side. The young men went down with it, Peter seizing the oars +as his by right. The floating boat with its strange cargo had drifted +close and was now lost in the vast black shadow of the yacht. + +"Where is it?" + +"I can't--Yes! There it is. Straight back. Now a little to the right. +Way enough!" + +Varney, in the stern, leaned out and gripped the drifting gunwale +securely. But it was so dark here that he could see almost nothing. + +"He's breathing, I think," he said, his hand against the strange man's +chest. "Pull out into the light." + +But just then the arm that lay under the still head unmistakably +twitched. + +"Good!" cried Peter and laughed a little. "Strike a match and let's have +a look at him." + +Varney fumbled in his pockets, found one and scratched it on the side. +Shielding the flame in his curved hand, he leaned forward and held it +close to that motionless face. + +It was a young face, pale and rather haggard, lined about the mouth and +yellow about the eyes; the face of a clever but broken gentleman. Full +of contrasts and a story as it was, it would have been a striking face +at any time; and to the two peering men in the _Cypriani's_ boat, it was +now very striking indeed. For they saw immediately that the curious eyes +were half open and were fixed full upon them. + +The match burned Varney's fingers, went out and dropped into the water. +He said nothing. Neither did Peter. The man in the boat did not stir. So +went by a second of profound stillness. Then a somewhat blurred voice +said: + +"When a gentleman goes rowing--in a private boat--and is raided by a +pair of unknown investigators--one of them wearing a Mother Hubbard-- +who strike matches in his face and make personal remarks--he naturally +awaits their explanations." + +The speech fell upon four of the most astonished ears in the State of +New York. + +Peter recovered first: the remark about the Mother Hubbard had stung him +a little, even in that dumfounded moment, but he only laughed. + +"The fact is, we made absolutely sure that you were a corpse. Our +mistake." + +"But God save us!" murmured the young man. "Can't a man die these days +without a yacht-full of anxious persons steaming up and clamping a light +against his eyeball?" + +"But can't we do something for you?" asked Varney. "That's what we are +here for." + +The young man lay still and thought a moment, which he appeared to do +with some difficulty. + +"To be frank," his voice came out of the dark, rather clearer now, "you +can. Give me a match, will you?" + +Varney laughed; he produced and handed over a little box of them. Lying +flat on his back in the boat, the young man fished a cigarette out of +his pocket, hurriedly, and stuck it between his lips. The next minute +the spurt of a match cut the air. The two in the ship's boat caught a +brief, flashing glimpse of him--thin white hands raised to thin white +face. + +"Something of a _poseur_, aren't you?" suggested Peter pleasantly. +"What's your role to-night?" + +There followed a fractional pause. + +"That of a vagrant student of manners and customs," answered the +colorless voice. "Therefore, to imitate your frankness, you interest me +greatly." + +"Those who study manners," said Peter, "should learn them after a while. +Why didn't you sing out, when you saw us hustling to get out a boat, and +tell us not to bother, as you were only playing dead for the lark of the +thing?" + +"Singing, whether out or in, is an art at which I can claim small +proficiency. But tell me the time, will you? I seem to have hocked my +watch." + +Peter laughed a little ruefully. "It's seven thirty-six--no more and no +less." + +The young man sat up with an effort, and uncertainly gathered up his +oars. + +"You'll excuse me, then?" he said. "I have an engagement at seven +thirty, and as you see, there is little time to make it." + +"We gave you a light," said Peter. "Why not reciprocate? Who the devil +are you?" + +"I am a part of all that I have met," said the stranger, pulling off. "I +am wily wandering Ulysses. I am--" + +"That will do," said Peter sharply. + +He bowed gravely and rowed away. Peter looked after him for some time, +in rather impressive silence. + +"What d' you suppose was the matter with the beggar, anyway? He wasn't +drunk." + +"Didn't you notice his wrists when he held them up to light his +cigarette? Full of little scars." + +Peter whistled. "So morphine is his trouble, is it? Listen!" + +From down the river rose a faint roar, like the sound of many voices a +long way off. While the two men listened, it subsided and then rose +again. + +"Hello!" said Varney. "Look at your student of manners and customs now." + +The man in the boat was still plainly discernible, his face picked out +by the moon in greenish white. But there was no longer any lethargy in +his manner. He was bending his back to his best stroke--an excellent one +it was--and driving his light bark rapidly down the stream. + +"My bet," said Varney, "is that he hears those shouts, and they mean +something to him--something interesting and important." + +"Larry, be a sport! Let's follow this thing along and find out what it +all means." + +"Oh, I'm willing to drop into town for a little reconnoissance, if you +like. Maybe we can pick up something that will help us in our business." + +"Spoken like a scholar and a gentleman. One minute while I get on my +clothes. Oh--by the way! Er--this new--robe of mine doesn't look like a +Mother Hubbard, does it?" + +"In my opinion," said Varney, "two things could not well be more utterly +unlike." + +Peter was back in five minutes, clothed and in his right mind. His +falling foot hit the center-line of the gig with a thump, and they shot +away toward the town wharf. + +They bade the boat wait their signal in the shadows a little upstream, +and jumped out upon the old and rotting landing. A street ran straight +before them, up a steep hill and into the heart of the town, and they +took it, guided by a burst of still distant laughter and hoarse shouts. +Toiling up the evil sidewalk, they looked about curiously at the town +which was to engage their attention for the next day or so. Over +everything hung that vague air of dejection and moral decay which is so +hard to define and so easy to detect. The street was lit with feeble +electric lights which did little more than nullify the moon. Grass grew +at its pleasure through the broken brick pavement; and even in that +dimness, it was very evident that the White Wing department had been +taking a long vacation. + +Varney's eye took in everything. It occurred to him that this was a most +extraordinary place for the family of the exquisite and well-fixed +Elbert Carstairs to live. Hard on the heels of that came another thought +and he stopped. + +"What's the matter?" said Peter. + +"We simply mustn't get mixed up in any doings here, you know. Can't +afford it. Whatever is going on, our role must be that of quiet +onlookers only. Remember that." + +"Quiet onlookers it is. Hello! Did you see that?" + +"What?" + +"Old duck in a felt hat walking behind us, a good distance off--I'd +heard him for some time. He stopped when we stopped, and when I turned +then I was just in time to see him go skipping up the side street." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Not a thing. I'm interested in the sights of the town, that's all. +Listen to those hoodlums, will you?" + +In the middle of that block rose a great public building of florid and +hideous architecture, absurdly expensive for so small a town, and +running fast to seed. On the corner ahead, at the crest of the slope, +stood the handsomest and most prosperous-looking building they had yet +seen. Its long side was cut by many windows, all brilliantly lit up, and +above the lower tier ran the gold-lettered legend: + +WINES & LIQUORS. THE OTTOMAN. D. RYAN. + +"When the saloon-keeper is the richest man in town," observed Peter, +"look out for trouble." + +A roar of laughter, mingled with various derisive cries, broke out just +then, now from very near. The next minute the two men reached the brow +of the hill, and both stopped involuntarily, arrested by the tableau +which met their gaze beyond. + +They stood on the upper side of a little rectangular "square," at the +lower edge of which, some fifty yards away, were gathered possibly +thirty or forty jostling and noisy men. Facing them, standing on a +carriage-block at the curb, stood a cool little man obviously engaged in +making a speech. The commonness of the men and the rough joviality of +their mood were the more accentuated by the supreme dignity of the +orator. He was a very small man, with pink cheeks and eye-glasses, +beautifully made and still more beautifully dressed; and for all their +boisterous "jollying" his auditors appeared rather to like him than the +contrary. + +The men from the _Cypriani_ crossed the square and came up with the +merry-making Hunstonians. Varney's gaze went round the circle of faces +and saw inefficiency, shiftlessness, and failure everywhere stamped +upon them. Suddenly his wandering eye was arrested by a face of quite a +different sort. Directly opposite stood the eccentric young man of the +row-boat, watching the show out of listless eyes whose expression never +changed. + +"On that horse-block," said Peter, raising his voice to carry above an +outburst of catcalls and allegedly humorous comment, "stands the Hunston +Reform Movement. Giving 'em a ripping talk, too--all out of Bryce, Mill, +and the other fellows." + +But at that moment, as luck had it, the oratory came to a sudden end. A +sportive bull-pup, malevolently released by some one in the crowd, +danced up to the horse-block, barking joyfully, and made a lightning +dive for the spellbinder's legs. The spellbinder dexterously +side-stepped; the dog's aim was diverted from that fleshy portion of the +thigh which his fancy had selected; but his snapping teeth closed firmly +in the tail of the pretty light-gray coat, which the little man wore +rather long according to the mode of the day. And there he swung, +kicking and snarling, squirming and grunting, in the liveliest fashion +imaginable. + +Merry pandemonium broke out among the onlookers; they howled with +shameless delight. It was hardly a pleasant scene to witness, though +redeemed by the little orator's gameness. His face, when he took in what +had happened to him, slowly turned the color of a sheet of white paper. +With indescribable dignity, he descended from his rostrum, carrying the +dog along, and walked out into the ring. In front of a tall, +loose-jointed, scraggly-mustached fellow he paused, and stared him in +the eye with steady fixity. + +"T-t-take your d-d-damned d-dog off me, Hackley," he said, stuttering +badly, but very cool. + +But Hackley backed away, shaking his head and bellowing with laughter. +In an ecstasy of delight, the onlookers began pressing more closely +about the men, narrowing the circle. And then it was that Peter, quite +forgetting his role of quiet onlooker and unable for his life to +restrain himself longer, put his shoulder to the ring and broke a +vigorous way through. He touched the little orator on the arm. + +"No need to trouble the gentleman," Varney heard him say pleasantly. +"Just hold the position a moment, please." And so saying he swung back +his foot. + +It landed with an impact that was loud and not agreeable to the ear. The +dog dropped with a frightful howl and, yelping madly, fled. +Simultaneously, cries arose about the ringside, and the dog's owner, an +alcoholic blaze in his eye, spat bitterly into his two palms and headed +straight for Peter. + +"What in the blank-blank d' yer mean by kickin' my blank dog, you +blank-blankety-blank, you?" he inquired. + +"I meant that he was behaving as no dog should," explained Peter, "and +the same remark applies to you." + +He was not without skill at fisticuff, was Hackley. With the speed of a +tiger, he let out first his left fist, then his right, at Peter +Maginnis's head. But instead of arriving there, they collided with a +forearm which had about the resiliency of a two-foot stone-wall. +Simultaneously, Peter released his famous left-hook--had of the Bronx +Barman at ten dollars a lesson--and the fight was over. + +Mr. Hackley's head struck first, and struck passionately; men picked him +up and bore him limply from the field. And Peter, a tiny spot of red in +the corner of his right eye, spoke thus to the horseshoe of watching +faces: + +"You're a devil of a fine gang of red-hot sports, aren't you, boys? A +whole regiment of you with no more decency than to pick on one man like +this. I come from a white man's country where this kind of thing doesn't +go--thank God! And any man who has formed a bad opinion of my manners +and my general style of conversation can just step out into the ring and +let me explain my system to him." + +But nobody accepted that invitation. Possibly the rub was that no one +cared to see that left-hook work again, at his own expense, or to +encourage any trouble to come athwart his quiet career. At any rate, +there were a few mutterings here and there; and then some one sang out: + +"None fer mine, Mister! I ain't took out my life insurance yet." + +There was a general laugh at this, and with that laugh Peter knew that +all hope of more fighting was gone. He bade them a sardonic good-night, +hooked his arm through the orator's (who actually showed signs of an +intention to resume his speech), and bore him off down the street. + +The three men walked half a block in silence, and then the little +stranger stopped short. + +"I say," he said in a faintly unsteady voice, "I want to thank you for +taking that confounded dog off me. In another minute he might have torn +my coat, don't you know?" + +"Oh, that's all right," said Peter, repressing a smile. "Kicking dogs is +rather a specialty of mine, and it isn't often I get the chance to +attend to two of them in one evening. I wouldn't give the episode +another thought." + +The little man gave a sudden fierce laugh. "Oh, certainly not! It's a +mere bagatelle for a candidate for Mayor to get a hand-out like that +from a gathering of voters!" + +"Mayor! I beg your pardon! Of course I didn't quite understand." + +Whereupon Peter begged to introduce himself as an ardent amateur +statesman, a student of good government from New Hampshire to New +Zealand and from Plato to Lincoln Steffens, who had--er--come to Hunston +hoping to see something of the fight for reform. The candidate, in turn, +produced cards. It became apparent that he bore the name of J. Pinkney +Hare. And the upshot of the colloquy was that the two young men +presently found themselves invited to call upon Candidate Hare next +morning, and learn something of the situation. + +"I'll be delighted," accepted Peter promptly,--"delighted." + +"That's settled then. Good-night--and thanks awf'ly for your +assistance." + +He pivoted on his trim heels, abruptly, and went away up the side +street. + +Peter turned to Varney with a faint grin. "That chap gets his first +lesson in the art of being a reformer to-morrow. Curious, wasn't +it?--stumbling right into the heart of the agitation an hour after we +hit the town." + +Varney, who had followed Peter's activities of the last five minutes +with considerable disapproval, did not answer his smile. + +"Give me a hasty sketch of your conception of a quiet onlooker, will +you, Peter?" + +"Tush!" said Peter. "Why, can't you see that this sort of thing will +make the finest kind of blind? St! Here's our little friend coming back +again." + +"I say," called the voice of J. Pinkney Hare out of the gloom. + +"Yes?" said Peter. + +The candidate drew nearer. + +"Our city is not plentifully supplied with amusements," he began in his +somewhat pompous manner. "It just occurred to me that, in lieu of +anything better, you gentlemen might care to go home with me now. I +should be happy to have you--and to reciprocate your courtesy in any way +within my power." + +Peter, doubtless remembering the slow time he had been having on the +yacht, brightened instantly and visibly. + +"Why, _thanks_. I'll be awfully glad to come. I--er--I'm tremendously +interested in your situation here, I assure you." + +Then, catching a warning glance from Varney, who politely declined the +invitation, he apologized to the candidate and drew his captain briefly +aside. + +"I'll pick up all the information I can--understand?" he murmured +hurriedly. "And don't you worry. A little flurry in politics will make +the best sort of a cover for you while you sneak around after Mary." + +On that the two friends parted. Peter hurried on after the little +reformer, and Varney, turning, continued his way down Main Street toward +the river and the _Cypriani_, not entirely displeased, after all, that +Peter had found some congenial diversion for the evening. + +The street was almost a desert. If the unmistakable sounds of revelry by +night meant anything, nearly the whole population was behind him in the +Ottoman bar. But in the middle of the next block, two ragged men, +standing idly and talking together, turned at the sounds of the young +man's steps. One of them, revealed by a near-by shop-light, had straggly +gray whiskers, vacant eyes, and a bad foolish mouth. Both of them stared +at Varney with marked intentness. He had to go quite out of his way to +get round them. + +"They don't see strangers every day, I take it," he thought absently; +and suddenly he cast an inquiring eye at the heavens. + +The night, so shining half an hour before, was becoming heavily +overcast. Clouds had rolled up from nowhere and blotted out the moon. +About him the night breeze was freshening with a certain significance; +and now unexpectedly there fell upon his ear the faint far rumble of +thunder. Decidedly, there would be rain, and that right soon. Varney +quickened his pace. + +At the end of that quiet block he came upon a crimson-cheeked lady, +somewhat past her first youth and over-plump for beauty, who was engaged +in putting up the shutters at her mother's grocery establishment. +Glancing around casually at his approach, her glance became transfixed +into a stare. + +"Well!" she exclaimed in surprise and not without coquettishness--"if it +ain't Mr. Ferris!" + +"If it ain't Mr. Ferris--what then?" asked Varney. "For, madam, I assure +you that it ain't." + +The woman, taken aback by this denial, only stared and had no reply +ready. But the young man, walking on, was set to thinking by this second +encounter, and presently he mused: "I'm somebody's blooming double, +that's what. I wonder whose." + +And on that word, as though to get an answer to his speculation, he +suddenly halted and turned. + +He had now progressed nearly a block from the buxom young woman of the +grocery. For some time, even before that meeting, he had been aware of +light, steady footsteps behind him on the dark street, gaining on him. +By this time they had come very near; and now as he wheeled sharply, +with a vague anticipation of Peter's "old duck in a felt hat," he found +himself face to face with quite a different figure--that of a thin young +man whom he recognized. + +"Bless us!" said Varney urbanely. "It's the student of manners again." + +The pale young stranger stopped two paces away and gave back his look +with the utmost composure. + +"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones--"though I doubt," he +added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you." + +"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?" + +"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a +paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow +morning--you and your ferocious friend." + +Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat--er--precipitate?" + +"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany, +that you were a great fool to come back at all." + +"Beany!" + +"You don't mind if I sit down?" + +A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they +stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and +leaned back against the store-front. + +"Beany?" repeated Varney. + +"It was dark down on the river," observed the other slowly, "but the +instant I saw you on the square, I recognized you, and so, my friend, +will everybody else." + +"With even better success, I trust, than you have done. For my name is +not Beany, but indeed Varney--Laurence Varney--permit me--" + +"Ah, well! Stick it out if you prefer. In any case--" + +"But do tell me the name of this individual to whom I bear such a +marked resemblance. I naturally--" + +"The individual to whom you bear such a marked, I may say such a very +marked, resemblance," said the stranger, mockingly, "is a certain Mr. +Ferris Stanhope, a prosperous manufacturer of pink-tea literature. You +never heard the name--of course. But never mind about that. I should +advise you both to leave town anyway." + +"Is it trespassing too far if I ask--" + +"Any one who associates with little Hare, as I have a premonition that +you two will do if you stay, is born to trouble as the sparks fly +upward." + +Varney came a step nearer and rested his foot on the edge of the +packing-case. + +"Now that," said he, "is by all odds the best thing you've said yet. +Elucidate it a bit, won't you? I admit to some curiosity about that +little tableau in the square--" + +"Yes? Well, I owe you one for that box of matches, Beany--er--Mr.--and +it would be rather asinine for you or your pugilistic partner to begin +monkeying with our buzz-saw. I happened, you see, to overhear part of +your talk with J. Pinkney Hare just now. How others might view it I know +not, but to me it seemed only fair to warn you that that interesting +young man must be shunned by the wise. As to the mayoralty, he has as +much chance of getting in as a jack-rabbit has of butting a way through +the Great Wall of China. For we have a great wall here of the sturdiest +variety." + +He meant, as he briefly explained, the usual System, and back of it the +usual Boss: one Ryan, owner of the Ottoman saloon and the city of +Hunston, who held the town in the hollow of his coarse hand, and was +slowly squeezing it to death. + +"The election," he went on listlessly, "is only two weeks off, but the +rascal isn't lifting a finger. He doesn't have to. To-morrow night he +holds what he calls his annual 'town-meeting'--a fake and a joke. The +trustful people gather, listen to speeches by Ryan retainers, quaff free +lemonade. Nominally, everybody is invited to speak; really only the +elect are permitted to. I saw a reform candidate try it once, and it was +interesting to see how scientifically they put a crimp in him." + +"And J. Pinkney Hare?" queried Varney becoming rather interested. + +Was everything, the young man explained, that Ryan was not--able, +honest, unselfish, public-spirited. Studying the situation quietly for a +year, he had uncovered a most unholy trail of graft leading to high +places. But when he began to try to tell the people about it, he found +his way hopelessly blocked at every turn. + +"He can't even hire a hall," summarized the stranger. "Not to save his +immortal soul. That was the meaning of the ludicrous exhibition a few +minutes ago. In one word, he can't get a hearing. He might talk with the +tongues of men and angels, but nobody will listen to him. It is a dirty +shame. But what in the world can you expect? Lift a finger against the +gang, and, presto, your job's gone, and you can't find another high or +low. Ryan's money goes everywhere--into the schools, the church, the +press. The press. That, of course, is the System's most powerful ally. +The--infamous _Hollaston Gazette_--" + +"The _Hollaston Gazette_--is that published here?" asked Varney in +surprise, for the _Gazette_ was famous: one of those very rare +small-town newspapers which, by reason of great age and signal editorial +ability, have earned a national place in American journalism. + +"Named after the county. You have heard of it?" said the young man in a +faintly mocking voice, and immediately went on: "The _Gazette_ is eighty +years old. Even now, in these bad times, everybody in the county takes +it. They get all their opinions from it, ready-made. It is their Bible. +A fool can see what a power such a paper is. For seventy-seven years the +_Gazette_ fully deserved it. That was the way it won it. But all that is +changed now. And the paper is making a great deal of money." + +"It is crooked, then?" + +"I said, did I not, that it was for Ryan?" + +He lounged further back in the shadows upon his packing-case; he +appeared not to be feeling well at all. Varney regarded him with puzzled +interest. + +"A very depressing little story," he suggested, "but after all, hardly a +novel one. I don't yet altogether grasp why--" + +"Your Jeffries of a friend is a red-hot political theorist, isn't he?" +asked the other apathetically. "Our Hunston politicians are practical +men. They are after results, and seek them with small regard, I fear, +to copy-book precepts. You follow me? Rusticating strangers, visiting +sociological students, itinerant idealists, these would do well to speak +softly and walk on the sunny side of the road." + +"You appear," said Varney, his curiosity increasingly piqued, "to speak +of these matters with authority--" + +"Rather let us say with certitude." + +"Possibly you yourself have felt the iron-toothed bite of the machine?" + +"I?" + +"Why not?" + +The young man looked shocked; slowly his pale face took on a look of +cynical amusement. "Yes, yes. Certainly. Who more so?" He appeared to +hesitate a moment, and then added with a laugh which held a curious +tinge of defiance: "In fact, I myself have the honor of being the owner +and editor of the _Gazette_--Coligny Smith, at your service--" + +"Coligny Smith!" echoed Varney amazed. + +The young man glanced up. "It was my father you have heard of. He died +three years ago. However," he added, with an odd touch of pride, "he +always said that I wrote the better articles." + +There was a moment's silence. Varney felt by turns astonished, +disgusted, sorry, embarrassed. Then he burst out laughing. + +"Well, you have a nerve to tell me this. Smith. In doing so, you seem to +have brought our conversation to a logical conclusion. I thank you for +your kindly advice and piquant confession, and so, good evening." + +Mr. Smith straightened on his packing-case and spoke with unexpected +eagerness. + +"Oh--must you go? The night's so young--why not--come up to the Ottoman +and have something? I'll--I'd be glad to explain--" + +"I fear I cannot yield to the editorial blandishments this evening." + +"Well--I merely--" + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing. But remember--you'll get into trouble if you stay." + +Varney laughed. + +He went on toward his waiting gig feeling vaguely displeased with the +results of his half-hour ashore, and deciding that for the future it +would be best to give the town a wide berth. The privacy of the yacht +better suited his mission than Main Street, Hunston. However, the end +was not yet. He had not reached the landing before a thought came to him +which stopped him in his tracks. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +INTRODUCES MARY CARSTAIRS AND ANOTHER + +Clearly he must see Peter, at once, before that impetuous enthusiast had +had time to involve himself in anything, and tell him bluntly that he +must leave the affairs of Hunston alone until their own delicate +business had been safely disposed of. + +In such a matter as this it was not safe to take chances. Varney had a +curious feeling that young Mr. Smith's melodramatic warnings had been +offered in a spirit of friendliness, rather than of hostility. +Nevertheless, the eccentric young man had unmistakably threatened them. +While Varney had been more interested by the man, personally, than by +his whimsical menaces, the editor's conversation could certainly not be +called reassuring. Smith owned a corrupt newspaper; he was a clever man +and, by his own confession, an unscrupulous one, bought body and soul by +the local freebooters; and if he thought the headlong intruder Maginnis +important enough to warrant it, there were presumably no lengths to +which he would not go to make the town uncomfortable for him, to the +probable prejudice of their mission. Clearly, here was a risk which he, +as Mr. Carstairs's emissary, had no right to incur. The _Cypriani_ was +in no position to stand the fire of vindictive yellow journalism. +Besides, there was the complicating matter of his own curious +resemblance to somebody whom, it seemed, Hunston knew, and not too +favorably. + +Considerably annoyed, Varney turned his face back toward the town. To +avoid more publicity, he turned off the main thoroughfare to a narrow +street which paralleled it, and, walking rapidly, came in five minutes +to the street where Peter and the little candidate had left him. This +street came as a surprise to him: Hunston's best "residence section" +beyond doubt. It was really pretty, spaciously wide and flanked by +handsome old trees. Houses rose at increasingly long intervals as one +got away from the town; and they were for the most part charming-looking +houses, set in large lawns and veiled from public scrutiny by much fine +foliage. + +Varney cast about for somebody who would give him his bearings, and had +not far to look. + +Puffing stolidly on the butt of an alleged cigar, into which he had +stuck a sharpened match as a visible means of support, a boy who was +probably not so old as he looked sat upon the curbstone at the corner, +and claimed the world for his cuspidor. He was an ill-favored runt of a +boy, with a sedate manner and a face somewhat resembling a hickory-nut. + +Varney, approaching, asked him where Mr. Hare lived. Without turning +around, or desisting an instant from the tending of his cigar (which, +indeed, threatened a decease at any moment), the boy replied: + +"Acrost an' down, one half a block. Little yaller house wit' green +blinds and ornings. Yer could n't miss it. Yer party left dere ten +minutes ago, dough." + +"What party?" asked Varney puzzled. + +"Tall big party wit' yaller hat, stranger here. Seen him beatin' it out +the street for the road, him and Hare. Goin' some, they was." + +"How did you know I was looking for that party?" + +"Took a chanst," said the boy. "Do I win?" + +His stoical gravity made Varney smile. "You do--a good cigar. That one +of yours has one foot in the grave, hasn't it?" + +"T'ank you, boss." + +"By the way," he added casually, struck by a thought, "Mrs. Carstairs +must live on this street somewhere, doesn't she? Which way?" + +"Same way as yer party went. Last house on de street--Remsen Street. Big +white one, up on a hill like." + +Varney hurried off on the trail of his elusive friend. He was puzzled in +the last degree to know why Peter, having just entered Hare's house, +should have left it at once and gone racing off, with Hare, down this +empty street toward the open country. The one explanation that occurred +to him was on the whole an unwelcome one. This was that he had made an +opening to introduce the subject of Mary Carstairs, and the grateful +candidate had volunteered his friendly offices--perhaps to show Peter +the house, perhaps actually to take him up and present him. + +In the light of a depressed corner-lamp he glanced at his watch. Having +supposed that it must be nearly nine o'clock, he was surprised to find +that it was only a few minutes after eight. He had the handsome street +to himself. The night had grown very dark, and the faint but continuous +rumble of thunder was a warning to all pedestrians to seek shelter +without delay. Varney's stride was swift. Whatever Peter meant to do, he +wanted to overtake him before he did it, and gently lead him to +understand, here at the outset, that he was a subordinate in this +expedition, expected to do nothing without orders from above. + +But he found himself at the end of the street, and saw the country road +dimly winding on beyond, without having found a trace of Peter, or seen +any other human being. Here, for all his hurry, he was checked for a +moment by a sudden new interest. Mindful of the boy's succinct +directions, he paused in the shadow of the wood, which here came to the +sidewalk's edge, and looked across the street for the residence of Mrs. +Carstairs. + +Through the trees of a sloping lawn, his gaze fell at once upon a wide +rambling white house, directly opposite, well back from the street and +approached by a winding white driveway. The house was well lighted; +there was a porch-lamp lit; over the carriage-gate hung a large electric +globe. Despite the darkness of the night, Varney had a first-rate view. +The house was big; it was white; unquestionably it was up on a hill +like. In fact there could be no doubt in the world that this was the +house he had come from New York to find. + +The sight drew and interested him beyond all expectation. Presently, by +a curious coincidence, something happened which increased his interest +tenfold. His eye had run over the house, about the lawn, even up at the +windows, taking in every detail. There was no sign of life anywhere. But +now as he stood and watched, the swing front-door was unexpectedly +pushed open, and, like some feat in mental telepathy, a girl stepped out +upon the piazza. + +Involuntarily Varney shrank back into the shadows, assuming by instinct +the best conspirators' style, and glued his eyes upon the impelling +sight. Not that the girl herself was peculiarly fascinating to the eye. +The porch-light revealed her perfectly: a small, dark, nondescript +child, not above thirteen years old, rather badly dressed and, to say +truth, not attractive-looking in any way. But to Varney, at the moment, +she was the most irresistibly interesting figure in the six continents. + +She came to the top of the step and stood there, peering out into the +darkness as though looking for some one. Varney, from his dark retreat +stared back at her. There they stood unexpectedly face to face, the +kidnapper and his quarry. A sudden wild impulse seized the young man to +act immediately: to make a dash from his cover, bind the girl's mouth +with his handkerchief, toss her over his shoulder, and fly with her to +the yacht. That was the way these things ought to be done, not by the +tedious and furtive methods of chicanery. But, since this man-like +method was forbidden him, why should he not at least cross boldly and go +in--a lost wayfarer inquiring for directions--anything to start up the +vitally necessary acquaintance? Would he ever have a better chance? + +The thought had hardly come to him before the child herself killed it. +She turned as suddenly as she had come and disappeared into the house. +That broke the spell; and Varney, interested by the discovery that his +heart was beating above normal, slipped unseen from his lurking-place, +and resumed his interrupted progress after Peter and Hare. + +Beyond the Carstairs's fence of hedge, the houses stopped with the +sidewalk. The highway, having no longer anything to keep up appearances +for, dwindled into an ordinary country road, meandering through an +ordinary country wood. What could have carried Peter out here it was +impossible to conceive; but clearly something had, and Varney raced on, +hoping at every moment to descry his great form looming up ahead of him +out of the blackness. + +What luck--what beautiful luck--to have found her in his very first hour +in Hunston! It was half his work done in the wink of an eye. To-morrow +morning, the first thing, he would return to this quiet street, watch at +his ease for the child to come outdoors, saunter calmly from his +hiding-place, make friends with her. By this time to-morrow night, in +all human probability, he would be back in New York, his errand safely +accomplished. That done, Peter could play politics to his heart's +content. Meantime, it was more desirable than ever to tell him of these +unexpected developments and deter him from taking any step which might +complicate the game.... + +A loud thunderclap crashed across the train of his thought. Another and +a worse one crowded close upon it. He glanced up through the trees into +the inky cavern of the skies, and a single large drop of water spattered +upon his upturned forehead. + +"Hang it!" he thought disgustedly. "Here comes the rain." + +It came as though at his word, and with unbelievable suddenness. Thunder +rolled; the breeze stiffened into a gale. Another drop fell upon his +hat, and then another, and another. The young man came to an unwilling +halt. + +But he immediately saw that further pursuit was, for the moment at +least, out of the question. The storm broke with a violence strangely at +variance with the calm of the earlier evening. The heavens opened and +the floods descended. Shelter was to be found at once, if at all, but as +he hesitated, he remembered suddenly that he had not passed a house in +five minutes. In the same moment his eye fell upon a little cottage just +ahead of him, unlighted and barely perceptible in the thick darkness, +standing off the road not a hundred feet away. He made for it through +the driving rain and wind, stepped upon the narrow porch, discovered +immediately that it gave him no protection at all, and knocked loudly +upon the shut door. He got no answer. Trying it with a wet hand he +perceived that it was unlocked; and without more ado, he opened it and +stepped inside. + +It was evidently, as he had surmised, an empty house. The hall was dark +and very quiet. He leaned against the closed front door and dipped into +his pockets for a match. Behind him the rain fell in torrents, and the +turbulent wind dashed after it and hurled it against the streaming +windows. It had turned in half an hour from a peaceful evening to a wild +night, a night when all men of good sense and good fortune should be +sitting secure and snug by their own firesides. And where, oh where, was +Peter? + +Speculating gloomily on this and still exploring his pockets for a +match, he heard a noise not far away in the dark, and knew suddenly that +he was not alone. The next moment a voice floated to him out of the +blackness near at hand, clear, but a little irresolute, faintly +frightened. + +"Didn't some one come in? Who is there?" + +It was a woman's voice and a wholly charming one. There could hardly +have been its match in Hunston. + +"What a very interesting town!" the young man thought. "People to talk +to every way you turn." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE HERO TALKS WITH A LADY IN THE DARK + +Varney called reassuringly into the gloom: "I sincerely beg your pardon +for bursting in like that. I--had no idea there was any one here." + +There was a second's pause. + +"N--no," said the pretty voice, hesitatingly. "You--you couldn't--of +course." + +"But please tell me at once," he said, puzzled by this--"have I taken +the unforgivable liberty of breaking into your house?" + +"My house?" And he caught something like bewildered relief in her voice. +"Why--I--was thinking that I had broken into yours." + +Varney laughed, his back against the door. + +"If it were, I'm sure I should be able to offer you a light at the +least. If it were yours, now that I stop to think--well, perhaps it +_would_ be a little eccentric for you to be sitting there in your parlor +in the inky dark." + +To this there came no reply. + +"I suppose you, like me," he continued courteously, "are an unlucky +wayfarer who had to choose hastily between trespassing and being +drowned." + +"Yes." + +Inevitably he found himself wondering what this lady who shared his +stolen refuge could be like. That she was a lady her voice left no +doubt. His eye strained off into the Ethiopian blackness, but could make +neither heads nor tails of it. + +"Voices always go by contraries," he thought. "She's fifty-two and wears +glasses." + +Aloud he said: "But please tell me quite frankly--am I intruding?" + +"Not at all," said the lady, only that and nothing more. + +"Perhaps then you won't object if I find a seat? Leaning against a door +is so dull, don't you think?" + +He groped forward, hands outstretched before him, stumbled against the +stairway which he sought, and sat down uncomfortably on the +next-to-the-bottom step. Then suddenly the oddness of his situation +rushed over him, and, vexed though he was with the chain of needless +circumstances which had brought him into it, he with difficulty +repressed a laugh. + +An hour ago he had been lounging at peace upon the yacht, looking +forward to nothing more titillating than bed at the earliest respectable +hour. Now he was sitting with a strange lady of uncertain age in an +unlighted cottage on a lonely country road, while a howling thunderstorm +raved outside imprisoning him for nobody could say how long. In the +interval between these two extremes, he had discovered that he was a +"double," been threatened with violence, hopelessly lost Peter, and +found Mary Carstairs. Surely and in truth, a pretty active hour's work! + +On the tin roof of the cottage the rain beat a wild tattoo. Within, the +silence lengthened. Under the circumstances, Varney considered reserve +on the lady's part not unnatural; but a little talk, as he viewed the +matter, would tend to help the dreary evening through. + +He cleared his throat for due notice and began with a laugh. + +"I was industriously chasing two men from town when the storm caught me. +You know what I mean--not drumming them out of the city, but merely +pursuing them in this general direction. I wonder if by any chance you +happened to pass them on the road?" + +"N-no, I believe not." + +"A very small man, very well-dressed, and a very large man, very badly +dressed, wearing a kind of curious, rococo straw hat. I know," he mused, +"that you could not have forgotten that hat. Once seen--" + +"Oh!" she exclaimed with sudden evidences of interest--"do tell me--is +the smaller man you mention Mr. Hare?" + +"He is indeed," he answered surprised. "You know him? Oh, +yes,--certainly! In Hunston--" + +"Know him!" said she in tones of hardly suppressed indignation. "It is +he who is responsible for my being caught in this--this annoying +predicament." + +At something in the way the lady said that, Varney unconsciously chipped +twenty years off her age and conceded that she might be no more than +thirty-two. + +"I'm sorry to hear that," he said with a laugh. "I should say that Mr. +Hare has already had quite enough troubles for one night." + +"Oh--then you have seen him this evening?" + +"I had the pleasure of meeting him on the square not half an hour ago." + +Each waited for the other to say more; and it was the lady who yielded. +She went on hesitatingly, yet somehow as if she were not unwilling to +justify herself to this stranger in the curious position in which she +found herself. + +"It--is very strange--and unlike him," she said doubtfully. "He was to +call for me--at quarter past seven--and take me home. I was at the +seamstress's, perhaps quarter of a mile up the road. I waited and +waited--and then--Oh--what was that, do you know?" + +"Only this old floor cracking. Don't flatter it by noticing. How odd to +find, meeting in this way, that we are both searching for the same man. +Isn't it?" + +"It--seems to me even odder to find that he is not searching for me." + +She was sitting, so he judged from the sound, about fifteen feet away. +There was coldness in her voice as she spoke of the candidate. Varney +felt sorry for that young man when he next held converse with her. From +her voice he had also gathered that the dark rather frightened her, and +that the presence of an unknown man had not allayed her uneasiness; +though something of her reserve had vanished, he thought, when she found +that the intruder knew Mr. Hare. + +"Oh, but he was--is!" he cried encouragingly. + +"I'm positive that he's searching for you at this minute. Why, of +course--certainly! That would explain the whole thing." + +Sitting damply on the dark stairway, he told of J. Pinkney Hare's +evidently impromptu experiences in the public square, which had +undoubtedly knocked from his mind all memory of his engagement at the +seamstress's; and of the sudden recollection of it, which, there could +be no question, was what had sent him and his new friend bursting out of +the house and tearing for dear life up the road. + +"I'll bet," said he, "that not a minute after you turned into shelter, +they raced by here after you. Now they're kicking their heels at the +sewing-lady's, probably soaked through, and wild to know if you got home +safely. Oh, he's being punished for his sins, never fear." + +"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I +forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have +heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices, +but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone." + +"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!" + +"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world +ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him." + +He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And +immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at +twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his +obvious duty of escorting her home. + +In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked +loudly and scarily. + +"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a +match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?" + +"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you +I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever +since I came in." + +"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself. +"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?" + +"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing +it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm +awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase." + +Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world +like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she +said: "You are not--in this room, are you?" + +"I'm sitting quietly on the steps digging around for matches," he said. +"Would you prefer to have me come in there?" + +"Would you mind--? Not that I'm in the least frightened, but--" + +"It will give me great pleasure to come--faithfully searching my pockets +as I grope forward. Thus," he said, laughing, "I must grope only with my +head and feet, which is a slightly dangerous thing to do. Ouch! Where +are you, please?" + +"Here." + +"'Here' is not very definite, you know. I have nothing to steer by but +my ear. Would you mind talking a good deal for a while?" + +"It is not often," she said, with further signs of a thawing in her +manner, "that a woman gets an invitation like that." + +"Opportunity knocks at your door, golden, novel, and unique." + +"The luck of it is that I can't think of anything to say. Would you care +to have me hum something?" + +Off came the lady's glasses, never to be donned again in fancy or in +life; and Varney was ready to admit that there might be ladies in +Hunston who were worse-looking than she by far. In the Stygian blackness +he collided with a chair and paused, leaning upon the back of it. + +"I'd like extremely to have you hum. From your voice, I--I'm sure that +you do it div--awfully well. But since you seem to leave it to me, I'd +honestly rather have you do something else." + +"Yes?" + +Larry laughed. "It's a game. A--an evening pastime--a sort of novel +guessing contest. Played by strangers in the dark. You see--I must tell +you that ever since you first spoke, my mind has been giving me little +thumbnail sketches--each one different from the last--of what you look +like." + +She said nothing to this; so he laughed again. + +"Oh, it's not mere curiosity, you know. It's purely a scientific matter +with me. The science of deduction. The voice, you know, tells little or +nothing. I may say that I have made something of a study of voices, and +have discovered that they always go by contraries. For this reason," he +laughed gayly, "when you first spoke, I--but perhaps I am simply tiring +you?" + +There was a small pause, and then the lady spoke, with apparent +reluctance: + +"I am not tired." + +Varney smiled into the great darkness. "Well, when I first heard your +voice--ha, ha!--I made up my mind that you could not possibly be less +than fifty-two." + +He was rewarded with a faint laugh: this time there could be no doubt of +it. + +"You remember that mythological tunnel where everybody went in old and +came out young. This conversation has been like that. Since we have +talked," said Varney, "I have knocked thirty years off your age. But +much remains to be told--and that is the game. Are you dark?" + +"Are you punning?" + +"This is no punning matter," he said; and began his third exploration of +himself for a match. And above them the water continued to thud upon the +roof like a torrent broken out of a dam. + +"This is _too_ bad!" breathed the lady impatiently, and plainly she was +not speaking to Varney. "I believe it's coming down harder and harder +every minute!" + +"Yes," he answered cheerfully, "the good old rain is at it in earnest. +We're probably fixed for hours and hours. I might argue, you know," he +added, "that I have a right to know these things. The box of matches I +just gave away like a madman would have told me, and no questions asked. +Matches and lamps you have none, but such as you have--" + +"Could you not talk of something else, please?" + +Varney laughed. "Certainly, if I must. Only I've been rather generous +about this, I think, showing you my hand and giving you the chance to +laugh at me. You see, for all I know you may be fifty-two, after all. Or +even sixty-two--Oh, glory! Hallelujah!" + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! Just I have found a match. That's all!" + +"A _match_! Splendid!" she cried, and her voice suddenly seemed to come +from a higher point in the darkness, as though she had risen. "Just one! +Oh, we--you must be extremely careful with it." + +"The trouble is," he said with exaggerated dejection, "it's pretty wet. +I don't know whether it will strike or not." + +"You must _make_ it strike. Oh, it will be--unpardonable--if you don't +make it strike!" + +"Then I'll throw my soul into the work. I'll concentrate my whole +will-power upon it. On the back of this chair here--shall I?" + +"All right. I'll concentrate too. Are--you ready?" + +"Ready it is," said Varney. + +Gently he drew the match across the rough wood of the chair-back, his +ear all eager expectancy--and nothing happened. Thrice he did this +fruitless thing, and something told him that a large section of the +sulphur had been rubbed away into eternity. + +"It's nip and tuck," he breathed, stifling an impulse to laugh. "Nip and +tuck!" + +Pressing the match's diminished head firmly against the wood, he drew it +downward vigorously and long. There was a faint crackle, a little +splutter, and--glory of glories!--a tiny flame faltered out into the +darkness. + +"Oh--_be careful_!" + +Varney cupped his hand about the little flare, and for a moment ceased +to breathe. Then it caught more fully, and it was evident to both that +the victory was won. + +He had meant to look instantly about for lamp or candle to light; but if +all his future happiness had hinged upon it, it seemed to him that he +could not have helped one glance at the lady who shared that shelter and +that match with him. + +She stood a few feet away, regarding him breathlessly, hatted, gloved, +all in white, one hand resting lightly on the center-table, one folded +about the crook of a dainty draggled parasol. The match threw a small +and ghostly light, but he saw her, and she wore no veil. + +"Why--why--I--" + +"Oh, quick! There's a lamp just behind you." + +He caught himself with a start. By incredible luck a lamp was at his +very elbow; as it was the match died on the wick. He put back the +chimney and shade, turned up the wick, and the room was bathed in golden +light. + +It was a good-sized room, evidently newly furnished and as neat as a +bandbox. The empty book-case on which the lamp rested was of handsome +quartered oak, which transiently struck him as curious. But in the next +instant he turned away and forgot all about it. + +The lady stood where she had risen and was regarding him without a word. +The lamplight fell full upon her. He came nearer, and his waning +assurance shook him like a pennant in the wind and was suddenly gone. +The sense of _camaraderie_ which the dark had given faded; his easy +friendliness left him; and he was an embarrassed young man face to face +with a girl whose sudden beauty seemed to overwhelm him with the +knowledge that he did not so much as know her name. + +"None of my thumbnail sketches," he faltered, "made you look like this." + +She had rested her wet parasol against the table, where a slow pool +gathered at the ferrule, and was pulling on more trimly her long white +gloves. Now she looked at him rather quizzically, though her young eyes +reflected something of his own unsteadying embarrassment. + +"No," she said, "I shall not be sixty-two for--for some time yet. But of +course it was a game--a pastime--where I had a--little the advantage. Do +you know, I--I am not entirely surprised, after all." + +"Oh, aren't you?" he said, completely mystified, but as charmed by her +smile as he was by the subtle change in her manner which had come with +the lighting of that match. + +"And it _was_ nice of you to tell me that polite story at the +beginning," she said. "And quick--and clever. When I heard the front +door burst open, the first thing I thought of, really, was that it must +be you." + +"I can't think," he said, unable to take his eyes off her, "what in the +world you are talking about." + +She laughed with something of an effort, and sat down exquisitely in a +cruel cane chair. "Well, then--_do_ you forgive me for taking possession +of your house like this? You will, won't you? I can't be silly, now, and +pretend not to know you. But really I never dreamed that you--" + +"Is it possible," he broke in stormily, "that you are mistaking me for +that insufferable Stanhope?" + +She looked at him startled, dumfounded; in her eyes amazement mingled +with embarrassment; then her brow wrinkled into a slow, doubtful smile. + +"Oh-h--I beg your pardon! I--did n't understand. But is it my fault that +I've seen your picture a hundred times? Yes, I suppose it is; for, at +the risk of making you crosser still, I'll confess that I--I cut it out +and framed it." + +Varney leaned his elbow on the mantel and faced her. + +"You have made a mistake," he said. "I am not Mr. Stanhope." + +"You mean," she laughed, very pretty and pink, "that it is no affair of +mine that you are." + +A kind of desperation seized him. It was evident that she did not +believe him, just as Coligny Smith had not believed him, and the plump +young woman of the grocery who had used his Christian name. He was +almost ready not to believe himself. However, there were cards in his +pocket; he got one of them out, and coming nearer, handed it to her. + +"My name is Laurence Varney," he said mechanically, for that slogan +seemed fated to meet skeptics everywhere. "I am from New York and have +happened to come up here on a friend's yacht to--to spend a few days. +You have made a mistake." + +She took the card, held it lightly in her gloved hand, bowed to him with +mocking courtesy. + +"I am very glad to meet you--Mr. Laurence Varney! I--I am from New York, +too, and have happened to come up here on the New York Central with my +mother to spend a few years. And I live in a white house half a mile +down the road, where I ought to have been an hour ago. And I am Mary +Carstairs, who has read all your books and thinks that they--Oh"--she +broke off all at once: for there was no missing the look in his +astounded face. "What in the world have I said now?" + +"You--can't be--_Mary Carstairs_!" he cried. + +"Is--that so terrible?" she laughed, a little uncertainly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +IN WHICH MARY CARSTAIRS IS INVITED TO THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +But he recovered in a flash, aware of the criticalness of that moment, +and met her bewildered gaze steadily. + +"Terrible? Certainly not. Your name surprised me a little. That was all. +I thought, you see, that you were somebody else." + +"Yes? Who?" + +"I really--do not know exactly. Do forgive my stupidity, won't you? As I +say, I was just a little surprised." + +"You would explain to a man," she said, "and don't you think you ought +to to me? If you did not know exactly who you thought I was, why should +my name surprise you so?" + +He picked up a hideous china swan from a smart little oak stand and +examined it with excessive interest. + +"It was merely that I happen to know some one in New York who had +mentioned you--and done it in a way to make me think you were not--very +old. In fact, I had supposed that Miss Mary Carstairs wore short dresses +and a plait down her back. You see," he said, with a well-planned smile, +"how absurdly wrong I was. And then, just now, somebody pointed out your +house to me. There was a girl standing in the doorway--a small, dark +girl, with--" + +A peal like chimes cut him short. "Dear Jenny Thurston! Our +seamstress's little girl. She is spending the day with my mother, while +I've been spending most of the day with _her_ mother! Turn about! But I +wish you'd tell me," she said, "who it is that could have spoken of +me--to you. How interesting that we have a friend in common!" + +"Not a friend," he said grimly, at the window. "Only a former-- +acquaintance of yours--somebody that I imagine you have pretty well +forgotten. I'll tell you--another time. But I see it has stopped raining, +Miss--Miss--Miss Carstairs. Perhaps we had better take advantage of the +lull to start?--for I hope you are going to let me act for Mr. Hare, and +walk home wih you." + +"Oh--would you! Then indeed we had!" she said rising at once. "I am +horribly late now: I know my mother is frantic. I don't mind your not +telling me that, really! But--it is odd that you should have spoken of +my age twice to-night. Shall I tell you something, Mr. Stanhope--to show +you why I have had to give up pigtails? This is my birthday: I am +nineteen to-day!" + +She raised her eyes, shining, heavy-fringed, deep as the sea and bluer, +and looked at him. His own fell instantly. A shade of annoyance flitted +across his still face. + +"It is a delightful surprise," he said, mechanically. "But you must not +call me Mr. Stanhope, please, Miss Carstairs." + +"Why--mayn't I call you by your name?" + +"My name," said Varney, "in fairly legible print, is on the card which +you hold in your hand." + +She raised her eyes and looked at him, perplexed, hesitating, a little +mortified, like one who has encountered an unlooked-for rebuff. "Forgive +me," she ventured rather shyly, "but do you think it would be possible +for you to--to keep an incog here--where you must have so many friends? +If you want to do that--to try it--of course I'll not tell a soul. But +I'd like it very much if you could trust--_me_, who have known you +through your books for so long." + +"I should be quite willing to trust you, Miss Carstairs, but there is +nothing to trust you about. I am not incog. I am not the author. I have +written no books whatever--" + +"Ah! Then good-bye," she said with a swift change of manner, starting at +once for the door. "I shall not trouble you to walk home with me. Thank +you again for giving me shelter and light during the storm." + +"Will you be good enough to wait one minute?" + +She paused with one gloved hand on the knob, cool, resolute, a little +angry, the blue battery of her eyes fixing him across her white +embroidered shoulder. But he had turned away, hands thrust deep into the +pockets of his coat, brow rumpled into a frown, jaw set to anathema of +the plight in which a needless fortune had plunged him. + +If he let Uncle Elbert's daughter go like this, he might as well put the +_Cypriani_ about at once for New York, for he knew that he would never +have the chance to talk with her again. With engaging young +friendliness which overrode reserve, she had been moved to ask his +confidence, and he had angered her, even hurt her feelings, it seemed, +by appearing to withhold it. In return she had thrown down the issue +before him, immediate and final. Abstract questions of morals, and there +were new ones of great seriousness now, would have to wait. Should he +allow her to think that he was another man, or should he bid her +good-bye and abandon his errand? + +There was no alternative: she had made that unmistakable. His oath to +her father came suddenly into his mind. After all, was it not a little +absurd to boggle over one small deception when the whole enterprise, as +now suddenly revealed, was to be nothing but one continuous and colossal +one? + +"Miss--Miss Carstairs," said Varney, "with _you_ I shall not argue this. +I am going to let you think I am whoever you want. We needn't say +anything more about it, need we? Only--I'll ask you to call me by the +name I gave you, please, and, so far as you can, to regard me that way. +Is that--a bargain?" + +Mary Carstairs stood at the threshold of the lighted room, looking at +him from under her wide white hat, eyes shining, lips smiling, cheeks +faintly flushed with a sense of the triumph she had won. + +"Of course," she said. "And I don't think you'll need ever be sorry for +having trusted me--_Mr. Varney!"_ + +He bowed stiffly. "If you will kindly open the door, I will blow out the +lamp and give myself the pleasure of taking you home." + +They left the hospitable cottage of Ferris Stanhope, and went out into +the night, side by side, Varney and Mary Carstairs. The young man's +manner was deceptively calm, but his head was in a whirl. However, the +one vital fact about the situation stood out in his mind like a tower +set on a hill. This was that Uncle Elbert's daughter was walking at his +elbow, on terms of acquaintanceship and understanding. The thing had +happened with stunning unexpectedness, but it had happened, and the game +was on. The next move was his own, and what better moment for making it +would he ever have? + +The road was dark and wet. Rain-drops from the trees fell upon them as +they walked, gathered pools splashed shallowly under their feet. +Suddenly Varney said: + +"Do you happen to be interested in yachts, Miss Carstairs? Mine is +anchored just opposite your house, I believe, and it would be a pleasure +to show her to you sometime." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +CONCERNING MR. FERRIS STANHOPE, THE POPULAR NOVELIST; ALSO PETER, THE +QUIET ONLOOKER + +Peter had not yet returned to the yacht when Varney went to bed that +night. Like the Finnegan of song, he was gone again when Varney rose +next morning. Indeed, it was only too clear that his Celtic interests +had been suddenly engrossed by matters much nearer his heart than the +prospect, as he saw the thing, of spanking a naughty child. + +"He was off by half-past eight, sir," the steward, McTosh, told Varney +at breakfast. "He said to tell you to give yourself no uneasiness, sir; +that he was only going to Mr. Hare's--I think was the name--for a short +call, and would return by ten o'clock." + +"What else did he say?" + +"Well, sir, he was saying how the poltix of the village is not all they +might be, but he seemed very cheerful, sir, and took three times to the +chops." + +At dinner-time last night such extraordinary behavior from his +fellow-conspirator would have both disturbed and angered Varney. At +breakfast-time this morning it hardly interested him. He had employed +his walk from the cottage of refuge to the Carstairs front gate to +unbelievable advantage. In fact, his mission in Hunston seemed to be all +over but the shouting, and until the moment of final action arrived, +there appeared no reason why Peter should not employ his time in any way +he saw fit. + +The heavy storm had scoured the air, and the world was bright as a new +pin. In the shaded solitude of the after-deck, Mr. Carstairs's agent sat +in an easy-chair with a cigarette, and thought over the remarkable +happenings of his first night in Hunston. In retrospect young Editor +Smith seemed to be but the ordered instrument of fate, dispatched in a +rowboat to draw him against his will from the yacht to the town, where +all his business was neatly arranged for his doing. Certainly it +appeared as if the hand of intelligent destiny must have been in it +somewhere. No mere blind luck could have driven him half a mile into the +country to the one spot in all Hunston--impossibly unlikely as it +was--where he could become acquainted with Uncle Elbert's daughter +without the formality of an introduction. + +Uncle Elbert! How desperately the old man must desire his daughter to +have planned a mad scheme like this with a subterfuge at the expense of +his best friend cunningly hidden away in the heart of it. Yet, after the +first staggering flash, Varney had found it impossible to be angry with +Mr. Carstairs. He only felt sorry for him, sorrier than he had ever felt +for anybody in his life. The old man's madness and his deceit were but +the measure of his desire for his daughter. And the more he desired her, +so it seemed to Varney, the more he was entitled to have her. + +Interrupting his meditations, the steward approached on silent feet, +bearing a flat brown-paper package in his hand. It appeared that the +under-steward had just returned from a marketing tour in Hunston, had +met Mr. Maginnis on the street, and been ordered to take back the parcel +to Mr. Varney. + +"All right, McTosh," said Varney. + +He broke the string with some curiosity and pulled off the wrappers. +Within was nothing but a copy of a current literary monthly. + +A present of a magazine from Peter! This was a delicate apology for his +remissness, indeed. "He will be sending me chocolates next," thought +Varney, not a little puzzled. + +He turned the pages curiously. Soon, observing a bit of brown +wrapping-paper sticking out between the leaves, he opened the magazine +at that point and found himself looking at a picture; and he sat still +and stared at it for a long time. + +It was the full-page portrait of a young man of some thirty years: a +rather thin young man with a high forehead, a straight nose, and a +smallish chin. The face was good-looking, but somehow not quite +attractive. About the eyes was an expression faintly unpleasant, which +the neat glasses did not hide. On the somewhat slack lip was a slight +twist, not agreeable, which the well-kept mustache could not conceal. +Still it was an interesting face, clever, assured, half-insolent. To +Varney, it was exceptionally interesting; for removing the mustache and +eye-glasses, it might have passed anywhere for his own. + +Below the portrait was printed this legend: + +_FERRIS STANHOPE_. + +The popular author of "Rosamund," etc., who will reopen the old Stanhope +cottage near Hunston, New York, and spend the autumn there upon a new +novel. + +Mr. Stanhope's health has not been good of late, and his physicians have +recommended an extended stay in this quiet Hudson River country. + + * * * * * + +Here was that "Mr. Ferris," whom the young lady of the grocery had coyly +saluted; the "Beany," whom the pale young editor had bluntly bidden to +leave town; and the literary celebrity whom Miss Mary Carstairs so +evidently and so warmly admired. Varney stared at the portrait with a +kind of fascination. Now he saw many points of difference between the +face of "the popular author" and his own. The resemblance was only +general, after all. Still it was undoubtedly strong enough to warrant +all kinds of mistakes. + +What a very extraordinary sort of thing to have happen! + +Suddenly his eye fell upon a penciled line in the white margin above the +picture which had at first escaped him: + +"On no account leave the yacht till I come back. Vitally important." + +Varney pitched the magazine across the deck with an irritated laugh. +Peter--utterly ignorant of how matters stood--attempting to fire off +long-distance orders and direct his movements. The splendid gall! + +As it chanced, he had no occasion to leave the yacht, either before or +after Peter got back. His work was done. He made himself comfortable +with morning papers and a novel--not one of Mr. Stanhope's--and began to +seek beguilement. + +But his reading went forward rather fitfully. There were long intervals +when his book, "eleventh printing" though it was, slipped forgotten to +his knees, and he sat staring thoughtfully over the sunny water.... + +Peter failed to keep his promise about returning to the yacht at ten +o'clock. In fact, it was four o'clock that afternoon when he arrived, +and at that, the manner in which he sprang up the stair indicated him as +a man who had but few moments to spare to yachts and that sort of thing. + +Varney, at his ease upon the transom, watched his friend's approach with +a quizzical eye. + +"Greetings, old comrade! How did you leave them all in Hunston?" + +Peter, who, truth to tell, had been looking forward to bitter personal +denunciation, looked somewhat relieved, and laughed. However, his manner +suggested little of hang-dog consciousness of guilt; it was far too +absorbed and business-like for that. He dropped down into a chair by +Varney and swabbed the back of his neck with a damp-looking +handkerchief. + +"Larry, who'd have dreamed last night that we were parting for all this +time?" + +"Well, not I for one." + +"Awfully sorry about it all, and I know you'll think I'm acting like a +funny kind of helper. I hadn't the faintest idea of bottling you up on +the yacht all day like this, but--well, you might say, Larry, that a man +couldn't help it to save his life. I certainly meant to be back by the +time you had finished breakfast and explain the whole situation to +you--there are a deuced lot of complications, you know--but one thing +led right on to another and--good Lord! I couldn't find a minute with a +fine-tooth comb." + +"It's all right, statesman. You don't hear me making any complaints. All +I ask is a little _resume_ of what you've been doing since you so +cleverly lost me. In Reform to the ears, I suppose?" + +Peter again looked rather surprised at his chief's easy indifference. + +"You want that part of it first? Well," he said rapidly, "I've been +trying to do four days' work for Reform in one, and a pinch it's been to +make both ends meet, I can tell you. At it practically without a break +since I left you last night. J. Pinkney took me right in and bared his +soul. Said he was down and out and beaten to a fluid. A clever little +devil fast enough, but no more idea of how to play the game than a baby +baboon. When he caught on to what I wanted to do for him, he would have +fallen on my neck except that he isn't that kind. That was this morning. +I worked out my idea in the still watches: couldn't sleep for thinking +of it. It just means this: if my plans carry through Hare gets the +biggest hearing to-night that this old town can give. And I think +they'll carry all right. You wouldn't be interested in the details. Now +this other thing--" + +"Oh, but I would, though! Give me at least a peep behind the scenes +before you dash on. What about these plans of yours?" + +Peter laid down the newspaper with which he had been busily fanning +himself. A sudden light came into his eyes. + +"I'll tell you just how it all happened," he said in an eager voice. +"Only I'll have to hurry, as I'm due back in town right away--that is, +of course, unless you should need me for anything. Well, I left Hare +last night after only a couple of hours' talk, listening to the same old +story of boss-rule, and giving him, if I do say it, some cracking good +practical pointers. By the way, we were interrupted at that. Hadn't got +started before Hare remembered that he'd promised to bring some girl +home from somewhere, and dragged me off a mile down the road, only to +find out afterwards that she'd gone home with somebody else. Made me +tired. I left him about ten o'clock and started down Main Street for the +river, meaning to come straight back here. But as I was footing it +along, thinking over my talk with Hare and attending to my own business, +who should brace me but that pale-faced rascal we saw playing dead in +the rowboat. This time the _poseur_ was lying flat on some packing-cases +in front of a store, and who do you suppose he turned out to be?" + +"The brains of the machine," said Varney. + +He told briefly of his own meeting with Coligny Smith at the same spot +two hours earlier, and of the editor's stagey warnings. + +"Exactly the way he did me!" cried Peter. "Saved the announcement of +who he was for the grand _finale_ in Act V. I got mad as a wet hen, told +him what I thought of him in simple language, and then when the grafter +twitted me to go and do something about it, I broke loose and swore that +I'd make Hare Mayor of Hunston if I had to buy the little two-by-twice +town to do it. Told him to pack his trunk, for all the crooks would soon +be traveling toward the timber. So then I turned right around, hiked +back to Hare's, told him what I'd done, gave him my hand on it, and +pulled out the old family check-book. This morning I went to him and +laid before him the greatest scheme that ever was. You know Hare can't +get a hall to speak in for love or money--nobody dares rent him one; he +can't buy an inch of space in the _Gazette_; he can't put spreads on the +billboards without having 'em pasted out in the night. To-night the +whole thing's been done for him--Ryan's big town-meeting. Well, we're +going to try to _swipe that meeting_--do you see? I'm getting in some +husky fellows from New York to see fair play, and so on. Oh, it's a +bully chance--you can see! I've spent a nice bunch of father's money +working the scheme up, and, by George! I believe we are going to get by +with it. If we do--well, we give this town the biggest shock it's had in +years, and that's the way reform begins, Larry. _Shock_!" + +Something of his contagious enthusiasm spread to and fired Varney. Fate +had thrown in their way a plucky and honest man engaged in an apparently +hopeless fight against overwhelming powers of darkness. He deserved +help. And what possible risk was there now when the _Cypriani's_ work +was practically done? + +"I can't say," continued Peter dutifully, "that this is exactly playing +the quiet onlooker, as my orders read. As I said last night, I consider +that this excursion into politics will help our little business, not +interfere with it. It will divert attention. It will seem to explain why +we are here. But if you don't agree with me, if you want me to drop +it--" + +"No," said Varney, slowly. "I don't." + +"Good for you, old sport!" cried Peter, evidently relieved. "Needless to +say, I'm right on the job whenever you need me. And nothing's going to +happen. Trust me. Now as to this other matter. You got that magazine I +sent this morning?" + +"Yes. Thanks for the picture of my twin brother. But why couldn't I +leave the yacht till you got back?" + +Peter stared. "Why, just that, of course. Deuced unfortunate +coincidence, isn't it? Everybody in town is going to think that you are +this fellow Stanhope." + +"Well?" + +"_Well_? Oh, I forgot--you haven't heard. Well, from the stories that +are floating round town to-day, Stanhope is a cad of the original brand. +He was born here--lived here until he was twenty-one or two. Women were +his trouble. The climax came about twelve years ago. The girl was named +Orrick--Mamie Orrick, I believe. Nobody knows exactly what became of +her, but they practically ran Stanhope out of the town then. Well--there +it is." + +He paused long enough to light one of his Herculean cigars, employing +his hat as a wind-shield, and rapidly continued: "It's very curious and +strange, and all that, but there it is. A month or so ago the _Gazette_ +announced that Stanhope was coming back to Hunston. Last night you were +seen on the square, and now the news has spread like wildfire that the +author has arrived. Hare heard a lot of gossip on the street to-day. +He's lived here only a few years and doesn't know anything personally; +but he says the old feeling against Stanhope seems to have revived as +though it had all happened yesterday. Orrick, the girl's father, a +half-witted old dotard, was heard to say that he would shoot on sight. +There are three or four others besides Orrick who've got personal +grudges too. If any of these meet you, there is almost sure to be +trouble. How is that for a little complication?" + +"And this was the reason you sent me word to lock myself up on the +_Cypriani_? You're a bird, Peter. Not that it made any difference, but I +ventured to suppose that my leaving before you got back would interfere +with some plans you had been making for me, and--" + +"It would interfere with some plans I have been making for you, in a +general way, to have you assassinated." + +"Stuff. Ten to one all these stories that somebody has been so careful +to have get back to you are right out of the whole cloth--" + +"What's the use of setting up your cranky opinions against the hard +facts? The plain truth is that everybody who ever heard of Stanhope is +going to give you the cold shoulder for a dog; we can depend absolutely +on that." + +But Varney had his own reasons for depending on nothing of the sort. + +"You've been imposed upon, Peter. In fact, one of the population mistook +me for the author last night, and instead of giving me the cold +shoulder, as you say, she seemed to think that being Stanhope was the +best credentials that a man could have." + +"She? Who're you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about Uncle Elbert's daughter, Miss Mary Carstairs. I had +the pleasure of meeting her last night." + +"The devil you did!" cried Peter, laughing with astonishment. "You +certainly walk off with the prize for prompt results. How in the world +did you manage it?" + +Varney told him succinctly how he had managed it. + +"Fine! Fine! Honestly, I was getting afraid that you never could do it +at all, with the rotten reputation they've pinned on you here. Good +enough! Still it's absurd to cite the opinion of a little child in a +matter like this." + +"It depends upon what you call a little child, doesn't it? Miss +Carstairs is nineteen years old." + +Peter straightened in his chair with a jerk, and stared at him as though +one or the other had suddenly gone mad. + +"_Nineteen_! Why, I thought she was twelve." + +"So did I." + +"Why, how in Sam Hill did you ever make such an asinine mistake?" + +Varney gave an impatient laugh. + +"What difference does that make now? My impression was that the +separation took place about eight years ago. It may have been twelve. My +other impression was that the girl was about four at the time. She may +have been eight instead. If it's of any interest to you, I should say +that the mistake was natural enough. Besides, Uncle Elbert rather helped +it along." + +"Uncle Elbert rather lied to you--that's what he did," said Peter with +the utmost quietness. + +There was a considerable silence. Peter pulled frowningly at his cigar; +it had gone out but he was too absorbed to notice it, and mechanically +pulled on. Presently he raised his head and looked at Varney. + +"Well? This ends it, I suppose? You'll go back to New York this +afternoon?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to stay and carry it through just as I +expected." + +Peter tapped the chair-arm with his heavy fingers. "Why?" + +"Because--well, I promised to, and on the strength of my promise, Uncle +Elbert has gone to trouble and expense for one thing, and has pinned +high hopes on me, for another. I had my chance to ask questions and make +terms and stipulations--and I didn't do it. That was my fault. I am not +even sure that he meant to deceive me. I have no right to break a +contract because I find that my part in it is going to be harder than I +thought." + +"This business about her age changes everything. Carstairs has no legal +rights over a nineteen-year-old daughter." + +"Legal rights! My dear Peter, you never supposed I thought I was doing +anything legal, did you? No, no; the moral part of it has been my prop +and stay all along, and that still holds. I promised without conditions, +and I'll go ahead on the same terms." + +"Give me a match," said Peter thoughtfully. "Maybe you are right, +Larry," he added presently. "I only wanted to point out another way of +looking at it. I stand absolutely by your decision. You think that this +girl is wrong-headed and obstinate, and that her father has a moral +right to have her, over age or not. This--discovery makes it a pretty +serious business, but of course you've thought of all that. But--will it +be possible now?" + +"I have invited her," said Varney, with a light laugh, "to lunch on the +_Cypriani_ on Thursday with two or three other Hunston friends." + +"Well?" + +"She accepted with every mark of pleasure. Great men like Stanhope, it +seems, require no introduction: it beats me. The point now is to find +the other Hunston friends." + +"Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne--the very thing!--chaperon and all! +I'll invite them to-night. Then the whole thing's done!" Peter sat +silent a moment, looking at Varney. "I've been awfully rushed to-day," +he resumed, "because if I was going to help Hare at all, I didn't dare +lose this one big opportunity. But remember, anything that has to be +done from now on--I'm your man." + +"There'll be nothing more now until Thursday. The thing's practically +done." + +Peter was still looking at him steadily. "It's going to be dirt easy, +provided we don't weaken. You can't do things to your friends, but you +can emphatically do them to your enemies. We have got to remember always +that this girl, who has been so heartless to her old fool of a father, +is our enemy." + +"Yes, that is what we have got to remember." + +"Good Lord!" cried Peter, looking at his watch. "Twenty minutes past +four, and I must be at the hall at four-thirty sharp. I'll have to sneak +right away. You're going to sit tight on the yacht, of course?" + +"Never! I like to have a little of the fun myself. I must certainly take +in this meeting to-night, and watch you put your heel on their necks and +all that." + +"Don't! With what you've got to do, you can't afford to expose yourself. +What's the use of running risks, even little ones, when there is nothing +to gain?" + +"Satan reproving sin! Fudge! Free yourself once for all, my dear sir, +that I'm starring in The Prisoner on the Yacht for the next three days, +or anything of that sort." + +"Well, if you will go," said Peter, reluctantly, "here's a reserved seat +ticket--a peacherine, right up at the front." + +"Great! Count on me to lead the applause." + +Peter rose. His engrossed brow advertised the fact that his thought had +already flown back to his own private maelstrom of new concerns. + +"If Hare gets his chance to-night," he meditated out loud, "you can rely +on him to make the most of it. He'll make good; he's a man, sound in +wind and limb, head and heart. I do wish, though, he wasn't so--somehow +innocent--so easy--so confoundedly affable and handshaking with +everybody that comes along. There's a sneaky-looking stranger at the +hotel--rubber-heeled fellow named Higginson, with one of these black +felt hats pulled down over his eyes like a stage villain--that Hare +never laid eyes on till to-day. For all he knows the man may be an agent +of Ryan's, a hired spy imported to--By Jove! That's just what he is, +I'll bet!" he cried suddenly; and after a frowning pause, hurried warmly +on: "Don't you remember last night, just after we hit the town, I said +there was a man following us--sneaked up the alley when he saw me +looking at him?" + +"I believe I do, Peter. But the fact is that I met so many exciting +people last night--" + +"It's the same man--it was Higginson!" said Peter positively. "I'm sure +of it! I didn't get a look at his face last night, but it's the same +hat, same figure--everything. I'll bet anything he's on Ryan's payroll; +and there's little Hare hobnobbing with him as friendly as though they'd +been classmates at college! That kind of free-for-all geniality doesn't +go, you know! A reformer in a rotten town like this," said Peter +vehemently "would do well to cultivate a profound distrust of +strangers." + +Varney burst out laughing. + +"You yourself have known Hare from the cradle, I believe?" + +"I'm different," said Peter without a smile. "Well! I must move. Now +let's see--that lunch. What time shall I ask Hare and Mrs. Marne for?" + +"Two o'clock, Thursday. I didn't have the nerve," Varney explained, "to +ask Miss Carstairs for to-day--rather lucky I didn't--and she was +engaged for Thursday." + +"Right. I'll arrange it all. Well, for the Lord's sake take care of +yourself to-night, Larry, and trust me to keep out of trouble. So long." + +Varney looked after Peter's disappearing back, and envied him all the +fun he was having. His own lot was certainly far less entertaining. +However, it was his own; and here he resembled his friend in one respect +at least. His thoughts, like Peter's, had a way just now of reverting at +short notice to the matters in which he himself was most closely +concerned. + +He lay back idly among the cushions, and let his mind once more run over +the unexpected problems of his situation. + +The new graveness of what he was pledged to do had, of course, been +strongly present in his mind from the first moment of revelation. +Kidnapping a nineteen-year-old girl was certainly, as Peter had pointed +out, a pretty serious business. He perceived that it would not look well +in the papers in the least. Also if she cared to raise a row +afterwards, there might be an aftermath which would not be wholly a +laughing matter. + +Nevertheless, this side of the question seemed remote and of minor +interest to him just now. The problem appeared to be a personal one, not +a question of statutes and judges. In his talk with Miss Carstairs +before he knew her by name, he had failed to notice anything that +suggested the spoiled and wilful child he had come to find. He could +remember nothing she had said or done that helped him at all to think of +her as his enemy. The fact was that it was all quite the other way. And +this helped him to understand now, as he had not understood before, why +Uncle Elbert had begged a solemn oath from him with such a piteous look +on his handsome, haggard old face. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +VARNEY MEETS WITH A GALLING REBUFF, WHILE PETER GOES MARCHING ON + +Peter's pronounced views as to Mr. Stanhope were not, it appeared, +purely of the stuff that dreams are made of. Testimony to the author's +lack of popularity in his native town came to Varney with unexpected +promptness. + +In the corner of the square, as he swung along toward the Academy +Theatre that evening, he found himself suddenly confronted by a man who, +lounging against the fence of a shabby dwelling, straightened +dramatically at his approach and bent a sharp gaze upon him. He was a +tall, shambling fellow with a white cloth swathed about the top of his +head; and Varney, in the act of passing, suddenly recognized him as the +dog man, whom Peter had knocked out the night before. His gaze was a +wanton challenge for the young man to stop, and Varney cheerfully +accepted it. + +"Why, it's--Mr.--er--Hackley, isn't it?" + +The man's bandage left only one eye free to operate, and he kept this +upon Varney with a curious unwinking stare. + +"Yes," said he slowly, "I'm Hackley." + +"How'd the dog come out?" asked Varney. + +"Dead," said Hackley, as quiet in mien as the Hackley of last night was +bellicose. "Dead _an'_ buried." + +"I'm sorry," said Varney, his glance on the head-cloth. "The man who did +the kicking was a friend of mine, and he wouldn't want you to lose your +dog without some compensation. Er--please accept this with his +compliments and regrets." + +Hackley, his single washed-out eye starting with pleasure, accepted the +proffered note with a gesture resembling a clutch, investigated its size +in the dim light with hardly concealed delight, and pinned it into his +waistcoat pocket with a large brass safety-pin. Then he raised his head +slowly and looked at Varney. + +"Why n't you leave town to-night, Stanhope?" he inquired casually. + +Varney started. Almost to the very language this was exactly what Editor +Smith had suggested to him the night before. + +"Why do you call me Stanhope, Hackley? My name happens to be Laurence +Varney." + +Mr. Hackley's gaze never relaxed. "Chuck it," he said without emotion. +"A sensible and eddicated man," he added impersonally, "never lies when +a lie couldn't do him no good. If I was you, Stanhope, I wouldn't lose a +minute in cuttin' loose from this town." + +"If I were Stanhope, I daresay I wouldn't either. But suppose I were," +he added, "why shouldn't I stay here if I wanted to?" + +"For one reason," said Mr. Hackley deliberately, "there's me. When I'm +a-feelin' myself, there ain't a cammer, a more genteel nor lor-abidin' +citizen in Hunston. As for fussin' and fightin', I'd no more think of it +than a dyin' inverlid in the orspitle. But only throw a few drinks under +my belt like last night, and I'm a altogether different creetur. And I'm +mighty afraid that the next time I over-drink myself and don't rightly +know what I'm doin', I'll go out after you with a club. And then +there'll be trouble." + +"But why should you want to go after Stanhope with a club? What did he +ever do to you?" + +"Don't you know? I married Mamie Orrick's little sister!" + +"Most interesting," said Varney, "as a bit of genealogy, but what's it +got to do with Stanhope and the club?" + +But Mr. Hackley said again, cryptically: "Chuck it." Then, softened by +the young man's pleasant ways, and by the windfall of a fortune pinned +into his vest: "Be sensible, Stanhope," he added amiably. "I ain't the +only one. Old Orrick's heard that you've hit the town and is totin' a +gun and talk-in' wild. And, of course, there's others. Don't jump off no +tall buildin's, I say, expectin' Providence to land you soft. There's a +train to Noo York at eight-ten. Cut while you can!" + +"Why, thanks," said Varney, laughing and starting on. "If I should see +Mr. Stanhope at any time, I won't fail to pass him the friendly tip." + +"And if you should see that friend o' yourn," called Hackley after him, +"him that gimme the paste in the jor--you c'n just tell him that Jim +Hackley is goin' to fix you both, _good!_" + +"At your convenience, Hackley." + +The young man passed on, undisturbed by the dog man's quaint menaces. He +did not exactly see himself and Peter getting into trouble at the hands +of a crack-brained village humorist. + +Streams of people, converging from all directions, guided him easily to +the theatre. Pushing his way in, he found the stage empty and the +proceedings not yet begun; and he stood for a minute at the inner door, +glancing over the house. It was crowded. Oratory is a real inducement in +societies seldom blessed with that attraction. Even lemonade is a magnet +if you get it seldom and never to surfeit. Already men were sitting in +the long low windows which ran down either side of the building; and a +score of ushers, singularly alert-looking men, were hurriedly +distributing camp-chairs to accommodate the overflow. Certainly, Peter +could have desired no better setting for his daring adventure for +reform. + +Thanks to the reserved seat which his friend's reluctant liberality had +furnished him, Varney was in no hurry to join the throng inside. +Presently, to get clear of the rush at the doors, he strolled into the +lobby and idly stood at one side, watching the people streaming by. + +Thus, by sheer luck, he became witness to the crucial episode of the +evening. An oily Teutonic voice spoke just at his elbow: + +"Id's eight o'clock, I zee. We'd better go back und gif Taylor his +speech, I guess." + +The young man turned. He happened to be standing just in front of the +little cubby of a box-office. In it stood two men, one large and fat and +blonde, the other short and stocky and dark. This latter, looking up +from a typewritten manuscript, spoke briefly: + +"No hurry. Find Smith if you can and send him here." + +The fat oily person departed obediently. Immediately there stepped +through the door of the box-office a rough-looking man in a slouch hat, +with three days' stubble stippling a grimy chin. He shut the door +carefully and came near. Varney, from where he stood, could see and hear +everything. + +"Mr. Ryan?" + +The stocky, dark man nodded. _Aha!_ thought Varney. + +"Then step outside a minute, will yer? There's a genaman wants to speak +to you right away on a matter as concerns you close." + +Ryan coldly looked the man over: "Then tell him to come in here. No! I +ain't got no time to fool with him now. Tell him to go to the devil." + +The stranger never moved a muscle. "There's a reason w'y he can't come +in here--you'll see when you come outside, all right." Then bringing his +dark face sharply a foot nearer, he went on in a hasty undertone: "Hey, +you! Ever hear of a man named Maginnis?" + +Ryan had: Peter's fame had traveled far in Hunston that day. + +"Well, listen! There's a game on to bust this meetin' to-night and put +the hook into you good and hard. Maginnis has spent a thousand to do it. +D'yer savvy? Now will yer step lively?" + +The boss considered a moment and then stepped lively. Varney, falling in +behind, stepped lively too, his curiosity strongly stirred. But outside, +before the theatre, there was no sign of a gentleman awaiting an +audience: only the people pouring on into the Academy. + +"Around the corner," whispered the dark man hoarsely. "He dassen't wait +here. Quick!" + +Around the corner the pair hurried, Varney close in their wake. In the +silent alley, half-hidden in the shadows of the building, stood a large +carriage with a pair of strapping bays tugging at their traces. They +halted before it, and the stranger, who had considerately taken Ryan's +arm, flung open the door. + +"Here he is, Jim--Mr. Ryan. Now you c'n tell him--" + +The sentence died unended. At the same moment the sound of a violent +scuffle smote the nocturnal air. It appeared that Jim, presumably +laboring under an unfortunate misapprehension, had not received his +visitor with that refined hospitality due from one gentleman to another. +Even more inexplicable, it looked in the deceitful darkness, remarkably +as though the boss's guide, suddenly dropping that gentleman's arm, had +laid forcible hold upon his outraged and madly protesting legs. + +It was all over in a minute. There was a faint yell, quickly and +violently muffled. Then the carriage door banged, leaving nobody on the +sidewalk, and the horses, responding to an acutely painful lash from the +strong arm on the box, sprang forward at the gallop. + +Varney stood in the dark alley, looking after the vanishing carriage +with mingled admiration and amazement. Swift footsteps sounded near him; +and the next moment a strong hand seized him and pulled him back into +the shadow of the wall. + +"_Sh-h! It's me_! Anybody see it?" + +"_Hello!_ Not a soul but me." + +Peter leaned against the wall and drew a deep breath. + +"He can never prove it on me--not to save his soul!--_and I hold his +meeting in the hollow of my hand_. Do you see that lighted window at +the back there? That's my last bridge. Waiting in there are the chairman +of the meeting and the mayor, who's the orator of the evening. I'm going +in and make 'em take me on as one of the platform speakers. I'll pass +out a few remarks and call on Hare--" + +"But how will you make them--" + +"They daren't refuse me anything," said Peter swiftly, and tapped his +breast-pocket. "I've papers here that mean stripes for them both. Mind +your eye, Larry, and be good!" + +He disappeared through the little gate toward the dressing-room, where +the officials of the meeting waited vainly for last instructions from +their lord. Varney looked after him with a sigh. In Hunston only +twenty-four hours and already to be running the town! + +He emerged from the alley feeling rather gloomy, and halted on the +sidewalk in front of the theatre, idly watching the people as they +poured in. The spectacle of this steady stream made a fitting background +for his meditations; for he was thinking, absently, of the extreme +boldness of Peter's course. Certainly, there was little here to suggest +the quiet onlooker. But all at once something happened which checked the +current of his thought as effectually as a slap upon the cheek. + +In that shifting, waste of strange faces, his vagrant eye suddenly fell +upon a familiar one--two, three familiar ones--and his flagging interest +sprang to life. There approached, side by side, J. Pinkney Hare, who, +though few knew it, might prove the brilliant hero of the night's +proceedings; the child, little Jenny Something, who had spent yesterday +at the Carstairs house, leading strangers to think that she was somebody +else; and Miss Carstairs herself, a fair flower in that moving tangle of +weeds. + +Hare saw Varney and bowed in his stiff affected way. But Varney's eyes +had already gone on to Miss Carstairs, and he did not return that +greeting. Seeing the little candidate lift his hat, her look followed +his, and so her eye met Varney's. + +When this happened her expression did not change, except that, so he +thought, she faintly colored. Varney awaited her bow; he half bowed +himself: a stiff smile was ready on his lips. But he never gave it. Her +eyes rested full upon him for a second, with no sign of recognition, and +then moved away; and the next moment she swept past him into the +theatre. + +There was no shadow of doubt about it. She who only last night had +treated him with such marked kindness, had unmistakably cut him. It +hardly seemed possible. Why, they had parted like friends! + +But he understood instantly what had happened. To her, he was Ferris +Stanhope; he himself had given her the right to think that. Since they +had parted, some of that unpleasant gossip about Stanhope--of which she +had known nothing last night--had made its way to her; and she had +believed it as to him, Laurence Varney. Yes, she had believed it as to +him. Peter was right, after all. A self-respecting girl owed it to +herself, it seemed, not to recognize him. Curiously, so strong was his +sense of the personal meaning of the insult that its more practical +aspects for the moment altogether escaped him. + +But that was only for the moment. In the next breath, it rushed over him +that with that cool glance the luncheon engagement upon which his whole +mission depended stood canceled; and with that thought he felt his will +hardening into iron. What she thought of him, personally, was of course +nothing; but no power should keep him from carrying through his plans +precisely as he had arranged them. He elbowed his way into the lobby to +find Uncle Elbert's daughter and make her retract that look. + +But it gradually became evident that Uncle Elbert's daughter was not in +the lobby: the most systematic exploration failed to reveal any trace of +her. In fact, it was certain that she had passed straight on to her seat +within the hall; whence a loud roar presently gave warning to stragglers +that the oratory had begun. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later Varney rose from his seat, at once marveling over the +splendor of Peter's _coup_ and bewildered by the blaze of publicity +which it had turned upon his comrade and co-schemer. The well-laid plans +had carried through to brilliant success, and Ryan's meeting had been +converted into a triumph for Ryan's deadly enemy, J. Pinkney Hare. + +The candidate had sat unobtrusively down in the audience with his friend +Miss Carstairs and the child Jenny,--spectators all: that was the way +they had arranged it. Peter, on the contrary, sat in the great white +light of a front seat on the stage, where he had masterfully intruded +himself in the galaxy of "other prominent citizens." And sure enough, +when the set speeches were over, it was the honorable chairman who +presented "a Mr. Maginnis of New York" to the meeting, doubtless having +been satisfactorily convinced beforehand that it was to his advantage to +do so. But, doubtless also convinced that there would be an accounting +to his master for this night's work, he rose to his duty only after Mr. +Maginnis had glared at him through a noticeable stage-wait, and then +made the introduction as prejudicial as he dared. + +Mr. Maginnis did not appear disconcerted in the least. He began +speaking with a pertinence and ease which rather surprised his friend +Varney down in the audience, and with words which instantly let the +dullest know that something unusual was taking place. However, he had +not proceeded far when, the house having become very still, he was +suddenly interrupted by a sharp hiss from the rear of the hall, and a +raucous voice which shouted: + +"Sit down, you! Nobody wants yer!" + +Laughter followed and various murmurs, some approving, a few protesting. +Ryan's good and faithful servants were evidently settling down to work. + +Peter's eye roved over the audience, seemed to catch something and lit +up with a faint signal. + +"The gentleman who made that remark," he said in tones of great +gentleness, "will kindly leave the hall at once." + +A ripple of merriment ran through the crowd, breaking in many places +into ostentatious guffaws. To those who knew the underside of those +meetings, the mild request appeared so ineffectual as to be merely +ridiculous. The honorable chairman, on the stage, hid a sinister smile +behind his hand. + +Then a strange thing happened. Four "ushers" moved silently down the +side-aisle, halted at the end of the sixth row from the rear, laid hands +upon an angry and wriggling little man who screamed to high heaven that +he hadn't done nothing, and dropped him out of the open window, which +was just five feet above the ground. + +It was rather a clean-cut piece of work, the moral effect of which was +in no wise weakened by the strong probability that they had ejected the +wrong man. It proved the turning-point in the evening's proceedings. +Ryanism seemed paralyzed by the mysterious absence of its chief, and a +few further essays by the faithful, more and more half-hearted in their +nature, made it plain that the control of that meeting had passed into +other hands. Peter, apologizing for the little interruption, told simply +but vividly how, coming to Hunston a stranger, he had instantly seen +that something was badly wrong with the town: how he had looked about at +the dirty streets, the dead business, the empty stores, the good men +idling, the good wives suffering for the money that streamed into the +big red saloon-- + +"That's right!" called a shrill, scared woman's voice. "That's right, +Mister!" + +"No!" Peter answered steadily. "It's the _wrongest_ thing that ever +was--God help you poor women!" + +Then a burst of hand-clapping, unforced by the faithful hirelings from +New York, ran unexpectedly through the house. + +Peter told how easy it had been to find out what was choking the life +out of Hunston. His open countenance, democratic manners, and pungent +speech produced a most favorable impression, and it was undeniable that, +for the moment at least, he had the house with him when he swung into +his peroration. + +"You know we are told," he said, "that it is the truth that makes us +free. Well, you are going to hear the truth to-night, at last. There is +a man listening to me at this moment who knows everything there is to be +known. Like me, he has no axe to grind, no special interest to promote, +no ambition but the manly wish to loose this town from the bonds with +which a dishonest boss has shackled it. He has sacrificed much to the +hope that he might help you, and for months he has been fighting against +big odds, just to get a chance to tell you the facts. To-night he has +got his chance, and you may be very sure that he will make the most of +it. + +"Relieving your honorable chairman of the trouble of rising for the +purpose, I take pleasure in introducing to you Mr. J. Pinkney Hare, who +is, with your consent, the next mayor of Hunston." + +Back in the center of the house, a foot scraped upon the floor, and +there was J. Pinkney Hare standing out in the aisle, his little black +bag stuffed with documents swinging in his hand. And then there arose, +to the surprise of everybody (barring those good fellows who had been +well paid for their work and were earnestly determined to earn it) a +deafening roar of applause, starting in the rear of the house, taken up +at certain definite points all through it, and gradually spreading +almost everywhere, many people joining in because they liked Peter +greatly and others without having any idea why. The roar subsided a +little as Hare drew near to the stage, mounted it, and deposited his +little bag upon the table. Then it broke again, more loudly, as he came +forward a step, looking out upon the crowded house--he who could not +hire a hall for himself--a little pale, a little awed by the bigness of +his chance, but with neither tremor nor uncertainty on his small, cool +face.... + +Hare spoke for an hour and a half, and not a soul left the hall. It was +impossible to call him off or cry him down: the plain sentiment of the +house was, "Give the little man his show." Afterwards, Chairman Bates +had made a desperate effort to overcome the damning effect of that +address, calling on various Ryanites of aggressive manners, and making a +second speech himself, but with little avail. Even the free fight which +broke out during the distribution of the ice-cream of the Neapolitans +(the announcement of which addition to the regular _menu_ evoked the +loudest spontaneous applause of the evening) resulted, until the police +checked it, decidedly in favor of the strangers from New York. + +This part of the evening's pleasures Varney did not see. He rose with +many others when the published tidings of refreshment gave notice that +the speechmaking was over, and turned his face toward the door against a +stream of ushers entering with alluring trays. Already all sense of the +daring brilliance of Peter's stroke had faded and dropped from his mind. +His own concerns crowded instantly upon his attention, and all his +thought was of finding Mary Carstairs immediately and compelling her to +recognize him for the man he was. + +She, too, had risen to leave the hall. While he listened to the fierce +philippic of J. Pinkney Hare, Varney's eye had carefully marked her +seat: it was empty now. Once, as he pushed his way slowly toward the +door, he caught a brief glimpse of her over in the other aisle, some +distance ahead of him; but he hardly saw her before she was lost to him +again, swallowed up in the jostling throng. The theatre was in an +uproar: all was noise and bustle and movement. And the wide lobby, when +at length he reached it, was no better; it looked scarcely more +promising to his quest than the traditional haystack to the searcher of +needles. + +Here were set the ice-cream freezers and the other paraphernalia of +delight, and about them was a struggling mob. Varney circled the throng +with a roving eye. Of the lady he saw no sign anywhere. But presently, +on the outer fringe of the cohorts which stormed the freezers, he came +upon the child Jenny, and knew that he had found a guide according to +his heart's desire. + +He touched her on the elbow. "Do you want to get some ice-cream?" + +She turned her homely little face up towards him, and said shyly: + +"Yes, sir. But they won't let me get near. And they say the chocolate is +going fast." + +"They'll let me get near," said Varney heartily. "Chocolate is it, then? +Lemonade, of course. And a thought of the cake with icing, shall we say? +Good! But you're not here alone, are you?" + +"No, sir. I'm here with Miss Mary--over there in that corner." + +"Well, you just run over there with her and wait. Trust everything here +to me." + +He emerged from the ruck a few moments later, disheveled but triumphant. +Hat under his arm and both hands heavily laden, he made a gingerly +progress to the place of his tryst, a comparatively unpopulated corner +near the door. And there she stood, her comely youth brought into sharp +relief by her surroundings, side by side with the living hunger and +thirst of Jenny, whose yearning eyes summoned the young man like a +beacon. + +Miss Carstairs happened to be looking in another direction. Varney, +standing before her, calmly took up their acquaintance where he had left +it last night at her mother's gate. + +"Good evening, Miss Carstairs. I bear refreshment for your little +friend. What a magnificent evening for Hare and Reform, isn't it?" + +She turned, startled at the sound of his voice, looked at him, and +looked at once away. + +"Oh ... yes, indeed. I--am waiting for Mr. Hare now. Jenny, are you sure +you haven't seen him come out?" + +"Yessum," said Jenny, her eyes all for the tall stranger. + +Unable to resist their imploring appeal, he turned at once and delivered +his burden. + +"Ice-cream--lemonade--" he made inventory--"cake with icing--tin +spoon--paper napkin in my pocket. Is there anything else?" + +"I think," said Jenny, conscientiously, "there's figs." + +"You do not wish any figs to-night, Jenny," declared Miss Carstairs, +rather more severely than mere figs seemed to warrant. + +"_No'm!_ I thought maybe he might want some." + +"I doubt if I'll take any figs to-night, either," laughed Varney. "But +mayn't I get something for you, Miss Carstairs? I'm happy to say that +the chocolate is holding out better than we feared." + +"Thank you," she said, apparently addressing the child, "I don't believe +I wish anything." + +Jenny here produced and handed around a small, rather dangerous-looking +paper-bag, which proved, upon investigation, to contain marshmallows. +Miss Carstairs declined. Varney, to show how unimpeachable he considered +his standing with the party, gratefully accepted. + +"I'm afraid," he said, looking at Miss Carstairs, "that Mr. Hare's +admirers are likely to detain him some time. If you don't care to wait +so long, perhaps you would again give me the pleasure of supplanting him +and taking you home--you and Miss--Miss Jenny?" + +"No, thank you--I am sure he will be out soon ... You look awfully +trampled on and--mashed, Jenny," she continued, twitching the child's +hat on straight. "And _my dear! Don't_ eat so fast." + +Despite himself, Varney felt his blood rising a little. "Miss +Carstairs," he said slowly, "I must tell you that I came with Miss Jenny +on purpose to see you. There is something that I wanted to say." + +She raised her eyes then, and though their look was very young and +embarrassed, he felt himself lose something of his composure under it. + +"You wanted to say something--to me?" + +"A good deal. I have an explanation to make--" + +"I'm afraid that I have not time to--listen--Mr. Hare--" + +"You must listen--to be fair," he said slowly. "I have to blame myself +for it, but you are doing me an injustice at this moment. I am not--that +man." + +She made no answer. Beside them, Miss Jenny ate ice-cream succulently. +All around them were people jostling this way and that, laughing, +shouting: but they might have been alone on a mountain-top for all +either was aware of them. + +"Since I have been in Hunston--just a day," Varney said easily, "I seem +to have done nothing but explain over and over that I am not Mr. +Stanhope. I got awfully tired of it, Miss Carstairs; it seemed so +horribly useless. Like the others, you insisted that I was he. You +candidly didn't believe me--" + +"No," she said, "that is true." + +"I shall make you believe me now," said Varney. + +A great hullabaloo suddenly arose around them. Four or five men broke +pellmell, and for the most part backwards, out of the swing-doors, +evidently ejected from within. A lonely-looking policeman, on guard at +the entrance, charged them. The lobby was already thronged; now people +retreating before that violent infusion of arms and legs crowded them +close. + +Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the +press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall +upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her, +turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room. + +"Ah!... A haven, Miss Carstairs." + +She stepped backward, into the tiny box-office where Ryan had stood two +hours before and cynically waited for his sport to begin. It was empty +now, offering a perfect refuge. Varney followed and stood with his hand +on the knob just inside the door. + +"Thank you," said Miss Carstairs, breathing a little rapidly. "The +meetings have never been as bad as this before. But--I must not lose +sight of Jenny." + +"I'm here, Miss Mary," gurgled an ice-creamy voice at the door. + +"I think I had better wait outside after all," said Mary. "Mr. Hare will +hardly know where to look for me." + +"Miss Jenny will be his clew: he couldn't miss her," said Varney. "Let +me go on, while I have time. Miss Carstairs, it is not fair to either of +us to let matters stay like this. In the cottage last night, you forced +me to let you think I was--another man--" + +"That is absurd," she said. "How could I possibly force you to say what +was not--the fact?" + +"Did I really say anything that was not--the fact? I tried particularly +not to. But I did let you deceive yourself about it: that is quite true +and I'm sorry. I did it because--well, because if I hadn't done it, you +were not going to let me walk home with you." + +She leaned against the little desk at which the Academy man sat to sell +tickets, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly. "Then why," she asked, +"should you wish to _undeceive_ me now?" + +"You know why," he answered. "If I don't, something tells me that you +are not going to speak to me any more." + +Her silence conceded the truth of this. It began to be evident how +difficult he had made matters for himself. + +Varney laughed. "I am determined to make you believe me, yet just how am +I to go about it? It's rather an absurd position, when you come to think +of it--this arguing with somebody as to who one is. Suppose I were that +fellow, Miss Carstairs. How could I possibly hope to come back to my old +hometown and persuade people to believe that I am somebody else?" + +Her eyes had wandered out through the little grated window, and she made +no reply. + +"You see how preposterous that would be. A mere resemblance is not +enough to condemn a man upon, Miss Carstairs." + +She turned her head with a sudden gesture of annoyance. "What difference +can it possibly make whether I speak to you or not, Mr. St--" + +"_Don't!_" he interrupted swiftly. "You know my name. You shall not call +me by that one." + +Hare's neat pink face appeared at the ticket-window, for all the world +like a belated theatre-goer, anxious for several in the orchestra. + +"Ah, Mary! There you are! Whenever you are ready--" + +"I have been waiting for you a long time," said Miss Carstairs. "It was +so splendid, Mr. Hare! Is Jenny there? We'll go at once." + +She turned to Varney, cool as a dewy rose, and came forward a short +step. "I--I must say this before I go: has no one told you that you are +in danger here?" + +Under her tone and her look, his plan of being the easy master of the +situation grew increasingly difficult. "Everybody has told me," he said +rather shortly. "It's gotten to be a bore." + +"Then--won't you--won't you please go away before--anything happens?" + +"I am going on Thursday afternoon," he answered, stung by her beauty, +which was so remote, and by the sudden compassion in her voice. "My +engagements will keep me here till that day, you remember? I promise +you, since you are so good as to interest yourself in the matter, that I +shall leave Hunston directly after that--" + +"Your engagements on Thursday?" she repeated, looking away. "Are--you +speaking of--" + +"The luncheon on my yacht. We are inviting Mr. Hare and his sister to +meet you." + +"I am sorry," began Miss Carstairs, not looking at him, "but--I--I find +that I shall n--" + +"Er--Mary?" said the candidate's voice through the window. + +She turned toward the door at once, as though welcoming a summons which +so opportunely relieved her from embarrassing explanations: but Varney, +who happened to have duties to her father to discharge, stood before +her, not moving. + +"Just now in the theatre," he said pleasantly, "you cut me. That was for +him. I understood. But is there any valid reason why you should not stay +on speaking terms with--Laurence Varney?" + +To his surprise, a vivid red swept up her face from throat to hair and +her eyes fluttered and fell. + +"Please," she said, "don't ask me to discuss this any more." + +Varney stood aside, bowing, to let her pass out. + +"I shall bring you proofs of my identity to-morrow, since that seems +necessary," he said with a laugh. "You won't refuse to see me, if you +care anything about being fair. But shall I tell you something, Miss +Carstairs? In your heart _you believe me now_!" + +At the outer door, Varney all but collided with a man listlessly +entering, and, glancing up, saw that it was the pale young editor, +Coligny Smith. + +"I hope you enjoyed the meeting," flung out Varney in passing. + +"Why, greetings--greetings!" said Mr. Smith, a mocking smile on his thin +lips. "I've just been out to buy your picture, Beany." + +With which singular rejoinder, he slipped by into the lobby. + + * * * * * + +J. Pinkney Hare lingered some time in the theatre after Miss Carstairs +joined him, enveloped in a heartening whirl of new popularity. To the +candidate it seemed that his star had changed with stunning swiftness. +His advance to the door had been a Roman progress; and when he finally +reached the lobby he was still the focus of a coterie of enthusiasts who +would not be shaken off. Here a new halt was made: new people surrounded +him; more hand-shakings and back-slappings took place; and everything +seemed merry as a marriage-bell. + +But Peter, coming out of the hall a moment after Varney had left, saw +hovering about this intimate circle an elderly man of a faded exterior +and shabby clothes, who wore a black felt hat pulled down over +wary-looking eyes. Even at that moment of splendid triumph, Peter was +annoyed to recognize in him the man Higginson, of whose too friendly +interest in the candidate's doings he had complained to Varney a few +hours earlier. Whether he was, in truth, the man who had followed them +on the street the night before, he was not ready to make affidavit. But +undoubtedly there was something furtive in the man's appearance and +manner; and Peter, watching him from the door, was highly irritated to +see Hare present the fellow to Miss Carstairs, who smiled on him as upon +one of her friend's good friends. + +"The sneak!" thought Peter. "I'll just drop him a quiet hint to butt out +before he gets hurt." + +But his "head-usher" due to vanish back to New York by the +ten-forty-five claimed him just then for a business talk, and when Peter +had time to think of Mr. Higginson again, he found that the man had +disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +THE EDITOR OF THE GAZETTE PLAYS A CARD FROM HIS SLEEVE + +Varney slept badly. The night was long, like art and the lanes that have +no turning; and interludes punctuated it, now and again, when he lay +wide-eyed in his bunk, staring into the darkness. At these times without +exception, he thought how, early in the morning, he would climb the hill +to the white house, blandly proffering letters to show that he was no +cad, no cur, but Laurence Varney, whom ladies need not flee from as from +the plague; suavely putting Uncle Elbert's daughter so utterly in the +wrong that he himself would grow merciful towards her abashment, and +sorry. + +He fell asleep, woke again, rehearsed once more what he would say to +her. At last he saw the dawn break along the horizon and the gray of a +new day meet and mingle with the receding darkness. It was Wednesday. +To-morrow would be Thursday, and he could go away, his business done. +The prospect was rich recompense for everything. It came to him, +suddenly and for the first time, that he hated his mission in Hunston +with a disheartening and sickening hatred. And formulating this thought, +polishing it to aphorism and sharpening it to epigram, he slumbered and +slept for the last time that night. + +But on the heels of the morning came Peter, bursting in half-dressed, a +newspaper flaunting in his hand, an unfastened suspender flapping behind +him like a pennant on a clubhouse. + +"Oh, you're awake, are you?" said he, looking very keen and wide-awake +himself. "Good! You'd hardly want to be dead to the world while this +kind of thing is going on." + +Varney, on an elbow, sleepily surprised at this vehemence, said: "What's +up?" + +"The jig!" cried Peter succinctly. "At least it looks that way. It's +that rascal Smith." + +He sat down on the edge of Varney's bunk, the folded newspaper in his +hand, and continued: "I ran out before I was dressed to look at this +contemptible _Gazette_, because I wanted to see how they handled the +meeting last night. But the minute I picked it up, I saw this, +and--well, by George! Look at it!" + +He whipped open the _Gazette_ with a movement which all but shredded it +and thrust it into Varney's hand. Varney sat up in bed and smoothed it +out upon the coverlet. + +Coligny Smith was clever and his eye ranged wide. He saw all the chances +that there were, and what he saw he made the most of. For his front-page +"picture feature" that morning, he had selected a two-column half-tone +of a good-looking, though not altogether pleasant-faced young man; and +beneath it had indited in bold capitals which the most casual eye could +not miss: "Mr. Ferris Stanhope, Author and Former Hunstonian, Who Has +Just Arrived in Town." + +"I see," said Varney, slowly. "Meaning me." Beside the portrait ran a +"story," which said in part: + + "It leaked out yesterday that the 'mysterious stranger' + who suddenly appeared off Hunston in an elegant + private yacht on Monday night, is none other than Ferris + Stanhope, well-known author of novels of the pink-tea + type.... + + "Mr. Stanhope is a native of Hunston, and is well + remembered here. As the result of certain escapades + which need not be detailed in a home paper like the + _Gazette_, he left town, somewhat hurriedly, one night + twelve years ago. Until Monday he has never been back + since. The news of his arrival has not been received + with general expressions of pleasure. Predictions were + freely made about the streets yesterday that if certain + old and respected citizens of Hunston should chance to + meet the author, trouble is sure to arise. + + "Why Mr. Stanhope should have elected to come back + to Hunston has not yet been ascertained. Some say that + it is the result of a bet, friends having wagered that he + would not venture to return for a month's stay here. + These declare that he is using the yacht as base of operations + to reconnoiter and determine whether it is safe to + land. Color is lent to this theory by the pains which the + distinguished author is taking to conceal his identity. + The name of the yacht has been carefully erased, and he + is using, it is said, an assumed name. + + "The secret of Mr. Stanhope's identity came out too + late last night for the _Gazette_ to obtain an interview. + With him on the yacht is a 'Mr. Maginnis,' representing + himself as a wealthy New Yorker and a 'student of + government.' Both gentlemen, it is said, are claimed as + allies by Hunston's new 'Reform party.'" + +Peter broke out the moment Varney laid down the paper, but Varney, +staring absently out of the porthole, did not listen. This, then, was +the meaning of the pale young editor's enigmatical remark last night. +Here was no idle malice. Diabolically resourceful and without shame, +young Mr. Smith had circulated this lie to discredit reform and drive +off its new champion. And this was the way that he, Varney, had kept the +coming of the _Cypriani_ quiet in Hunston! + +"And think of the cursed bull luck of it!" cried Peter. "The most the +rascal hoped to do was to ruin my plans for helping Hare by these dirty +hints about both of us--at the best to scare us away from Hunston. He +never dreamed that he was knocking the bottom out of any private plans +of _yours_!" + +Varney stretched and yawned. "Well, he isn't." + +"Doubtless I am a stupid ass and all that," said Peter, staring, "but +with the _Gazette_ publishing it about the countryside that you are a +yellow dog of the worst nature, I don't grasp how you expect Miss +Carstairs to come on this yacht and lunch with you." + +A knock sounded on the stateroom door, and McTosh entered, announcing +two telegrams for Mr. Varney. + +Varney, wondering a little who had known his whereabouts, took the +yellow envelopes, nodded to the steward not to wait, broke them open, +read the typewritten words within, read them again. + +Then he looked up and found Peter gazing at him more or less +expectantly. + +Varney laughed. "Do you remember that night at the club my saying to +you, as a great inducement: 'Suppose the New York papers get on to +this'?" + +Peter nodded. + +Varney handed him the yellow slips; then he arose and pushed the service +button. + +"McTosh," he said, "send to town at once and get me copies of the _Sun_, +the _Times_, the _Daily_ and the _Herald_--all the New York papers. No, +go yourself, and don't stay longer than is absolutely necessary." + +Peter, meantime, with a heart beating as it had not beat the night +before when he had overthrown Ryan and stolen his meeting, was reading +the following: + + _Daily_ story has got us all guessing. If it's really + you, what the devil are you up to, anyway? + R. E. TOWNES. + +The other was in a similar vein: + + Alarming story in _Daily_ to-day. Absolute secrecy a + prerequisite as explained. Reporters tried to reach me + to-night. Trust you fully, but implore you to proceed + with utmost caution. + ELBERT CARSTAIRS. + +"The plot thickens," said Peter when Varney turned back, "till I, for +one, can't see the drift. However--you've sent for the _Daily_?" + +Varney nodded. "I told him to get three or four others, too, for a +blind." + +"Politics," said Peter, in his calmest fighting manner, "is all off. I'm +not the least interested in it. We'll give the morning to studying +yellow journalism. But about Miss Carstairs. How can you possibly--" + +"By heaven," said Varney, with a sudden burst of anger, "I'll make her +know who I am, if I have to drag in her own mother to introduce me." + +He went off to his bath, dressed hurriedly, dawdled a moment at the +breakfast-table, where he found Peter discussing a cereal not without a +certain solemn pleasure, and went above grappling with the thought that +all this would mean a postponement of his call at the Carstairs house, +and maybe something more serious still. The morning was sunny and crisp. +He walked to the bow, briskly, by way of a constitutional, turned and +started down again. As he did this, his eye fell upon a strange figure +which had at first escaped him. Toward the stern of the _Cypriani_, near +the wheel, a little runt of a boy hung over the rail, and made the air +noxious with the relicts of a low-born cigar. He was an aged, cynical +boy, with a phlegmatic mien and a face of the complexion and general +appearance of a hickory-nut. + +A little surprised by the sudden apparition, Varney came down the deck +and dropped into a chair near him. + +"Well, my lad! I'm happy to see you and your cigar again. But to what do +we owe the pleasure of this call from you two old friends?" + +The boy turned his back to the rail and faced him impassively. In the +brilliant sunshine, he looked singularly worn and wise. + +"I brung dem wires," he said courageously plying the cigar. "Any +answer?" + +"I'll see, after a while," said Varney, hastily lighting a pipe as +counter-irritant. "So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" + +"Nawser. Odjobbin' I do. Anythink as comes handy. They don't deliver no +wires down here. I handles 'em sometimes for wut dere is in it." + +"Oh! Well, I won't fail to see that there is something in it for you +this time. And do you make much money odd-jobbing?" + +"I git along awright. Summertimes I do. Wintertimes there ain't no +odjobbin' much." + +"How old are you, my boy?" + +"Twelve year old." + +"Twelve! I thought you were sixteen, at least." + +A faint look of gratification crossed the boy's face, but he only said +stoically: "Twelve year's my age." + +"What do you do in the wintertime when there isn't much odd-jobbing? How +do you get along then?" + +"I git along awright. Sometimes I git help. Off a lady here, a frien' o' +mine." + +"What lady? What's her name?" + +"Name o' Miss Mary. Miss Carstair, some calls her. I git money and clo's +off her. I'd 'a' had some bum winters, hadn't ben for her." + +There was a pause, and then Varney said: "What's your name, my boy?" + +Again the boy hesitated. "Tommy," he said presently. + +"Tommy what?" + +"Tommy--Orrick." + +Varney started. Of all the sordid Hunston of the natives, that was the +one name which meant anything to him. It was rather a curious +coincidence. + +"Then I suppose old Sam Orrick," he said kindly, "is your father's +father." + +"Nawser," he answered slowly. And he added presently, "He wuz me +mudder's father." + +After that, the silence lengthened. Varney looked off down the river. +Tommy Orrick, whose father was named something else, clapped his hand +suddenly to his lip, because his cigar just then scorched it unbearably. + +"What is your father's name, Tommy?" asked Varney, in a low voice. + +His back toward Varney, his fragment of a cigar poised, reluctantly +ready to drop, the boy shook his head. "I don't rightly know," he said +in his husky little voice. + +But Varney knew that name: and he said it now slowly over to himself in +a dull and futile anger. + +From the shore a boat put out hurriedly and the faithful steward came +flying over the water with meritorious speed. With him he was bringing +the papers that might settle the _Cypriani's_ mission, but Varney, for +the moment, hardly gave him a thought. His own affairs were blotted from +his mind just then by the tragedy of the little waif before him, +luckless victim of another's sin, small flotsam which barely weathered +the winters when odd-jobbing was scarce, and only one lady cared. + +"Where do you live, Tommy?" + +"Kerrigan's loft mostly--w'en Kerrigan ain't dere." + +"This morning," said Varney rapidly, "I'm just as busy as a bee. But +this afternoon, or to-morrow morning anyway, I want to come down to +Kerrigan's and call on you." + +"Wut about?" the boy demanded with an instant suspiciousness which was +rather pathetic. + +"About you, Tommy. I have got a little plan in my head, and there isn't +any time to talk about it now. What would you say to having a home with +some nice people I know in another city--in New York?" + +A sudden dumbness seized Tommy. His head slowly lowered and he did not +answer. Around the deck-house from the port-side hurried McTosh, his arm +embracing a bundle of papers, his brow beady with the honest toil of +speed wrung out of country paths. + +"Ah, steward! You made good time. Ask Mr. Maginnis if he won't come on +deck when he is at leisure. Thomas, you're for the shore, aren't you? +Forward, there!" + +He got up and stood by the side of grave little Tommy Orrick, who was +staring silently down at the white deck. + +"Down in New York, Tommy, I know a nice woman who has a home and no boys +at all to put in it. A long time ago she used to be the nurse of a boy I +knew, but he grew up; and now her husband's dead and she's all alone. +And here in Hunston is a boy with no home to put himself in. That's you, +Tommy, and I--but here's your boat. I'll come to see you to-morrow at +Kerrigan's--sure, and we'll talk it all over. Good-bye. And remember +that you and I are just the best friends going." + +He held out his hand, to shake, but Tommy, in an excess of stage-fright +at the unwonted ceremonial, nimbly turned his back; and the next instant +he slipped over the rail like an acrobat and dropped into the waiting +dinghy. Safely there, he glanced tentatively upward; but seeing that the +tall man above was still standing at the rail and was smiling down upon +him, looked tactfully away again. And Varney heard him say to the +oarsman in a snappy, impatient voice: "Pull for all you know, dere! I +got bizness dat won't keep." + +Varney sat down with the bundle of papers. Within the minute, Peter +appeared, replete but characteristically alert. + +"Read it yet?" + +"No, but I've found it. It wasn't hard." + +He handed Peter the paper, his thumb crooked to indicate the place, +which was superfluous; for near the middle of the front page, top of +column and in the strong type of captions, the words leaped out to +Peter's eye as though hand-illumined in many colors: + + FERRIS STANHOPE OR LAURENCE VARNEY + + Mystery Surrounding Young Man On Yacht Near Hunston. + + He Says He's Varney--Natives say He's Stanhope + and Trouble Feared--Yacht is Elbert Carstairs's, with + Her Name Painted Out--Mr. Varney's Movements + Unknown to Friends Here. + +Peter read the story aloud in a guarded undertone. In general, it +closely followed the story in the _Gazette_; so closely indeed as to +show at a glance that both productions came from one brain and pen. But +toward the end, the new story took a different turn. It said: + +"The above is a sample of the gossip which is agitating this usually +quiet little town. Late to-night there are two distinct factions. One +holds that the young 'stranger' is Ferris Stanhope, reconnoitring under +an _alias_. The other contends that he is really Laurence Varney, or +somebody else, up here on some secret mission. Unless the stranger +leaves town before, the facts will doubtless be brought out to-morrow. +The gossips promise that a sensation of no mean order is forthcoming." + +Below this, some one in the _Daily_ office had added: + +"A certain air of mystery surrounds Laurence Varney's recent movements. +At his bachelor apartments, in the Arvonia, it was learned last night +that Mr. Varney was out of the city, but the man-servant there had no +idea of his master's whereabouts. From other sources, however, it was +learned that Mr. Varney left New York several days ago on the +_Cypriani_, a handsome steam yacht belonging to Elbert Carstairs of No. +00 Fifth Avenue. An attempt was made to reach Mr. Carstairs at his home, +but the hour was late, and he could not be interviewed. A telegram sent +to Ferris Stanhope's last known address, Camp Skagway in the +Adirondacks, was unanswered up to the hour of going to press." + +Peter let the paper drop upon his knees, and whistled father +shamefacedly. Here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed, and it was all of +his brewing. If he had kept his fingers out of the affairs of Hunston, +as both his enemy and his friend had warned him to do, the unscrupulous +editor would have had no interest in attacking him, over his captain's +shoulders, and this damaging story would never have been concocted and +spread broadcast as a feast for gossips. He had been brought to Hunston +to help Varney--and here was the front-page result. + +If a similar thought flashed across Varney's mind in this disturbing +moment, he instantly forgot it for others more practical. He sat curled +up in a folding deck-chair, swiftly weighing what this new issue might +mean, and a moment of rather heavy silence ensued. + +The cat was all but out of the bag: this fatal hint at "some secret +mission" made that plain. A little carelessness, some more shrewd +probing into his affairs, and the jig would be up, indeed. This was the +one way that their enemies in Hunston could interfere with +him--insisting on knowing why he had come there; and Coligny Smith had +had the bull luck, as Peter put it, to stumble on it. + +Thus it fell out that he, Varney, who had needed to seek the dark and +unobtrusive ways, found himself thrust suddenly into the full glare of +the calcium. He who was guarding an errand which nobody should know +about was now to be asked by everybody who read newspapers just what +that errand was. + +It was so absurd that all at once he laughed aloud. However, it was +becoming quite serious, and he saw that, too. + +"Damn him!" broke out Peter, compactly, and he added presently: "Think +of his throwing a bomb in the air like that, and smoking out poor old +Carstairs!" + +Varney looked up, knocked out his pipe against his heel, and restored it +thoughtfully to his pocket. "Yes. Did you notice the difference between +those two stories? He doesn't want Hunston even to suspect that I may be +myself. His game here is to _know_ I'm Stanhope, whom the whole town is +sore on. In New York, he tries both stories, not knowing which will hurt +the most. However, theories will keep. The facts are plain. They've +started out to run us down--that's all. The point is now to decide what +we are going to do about it." + +He stood up, tall and cool, his jaw shut tightly, his brow puckered into +a long frown, thinking rapidly. + +"As I see it," he said slowly, "it works about like this. Probably the +_Gazette_ is the local news bureau for this town. At any rate, it is +evident that somebody on it is the correspondent of the _Daily_. The +_Gazette_, we know, wants to run you out of town in order to have a free +hand in slaughtering Hare. Last night they supposed that my looking like +Stanhope was the best card they had. This morning they will guess that +there may be a still better one lying around somewhere. The _Daily_ +tells them that I'm Varney, and, what is much more interesting, that I'm +using Elbert Carstairs's yacht. Mrs. Elbert Carstairs lives in Hunston. +Putting two and two together, and adding the painted-out name and a dash +of seeming furtiveness on my part, you have all the materials for a +nice, yellow mystery. I haven't the slightest doubt that when that +telegraph editor in New York gets down to his office about one o'clock +to-day, the very first thing he does, after hanging his coat on the +nail, is to wire his correspondent to begin operating on me." + +Peter nailed the alternative. "If he doesn't, the _Gazette_ will attend +to the job, anyway." + +"Yes, the press is on our trail, in any case. The fact that this is the +Carstairs yacht will mean more to the _Gazette_ than it could to the +_Daily_. It will be a kind of connecting link for them. Of course, +they'll jump at it like wildfire. If they can make anything at all out +of it, they'll play it up to-morrow so that nobody in this town can +possibly miss seeing it." + +"Pray heaven," said Peter, referring to Mary Carstairs, "that she won't +see the _Daily_ this morning!" + +"Yes. Her father's name would naturally start her to thinking, which +would make things awkward." + +"Larry, the _Gazette_ is going to print his name to-morrow morning as +sure as Smith is a lying sneak." + +"We've still got to-day, haven't we? By Jove, it's nearly eleven +already. A reporter may be down on us at almost any minute. We can't +stand being cross-examined. No searchlight of journalism playing about +on the _Cypriani_ just now, thank you. My own idea is--" + +"To grab him, to batter the face off him--" + +"No, to elude him. Not to be here. In short, to run away." + +"_What?_ You can't mean that you are going to let that dog drive you +back to New York?" + +"Well, hardly. But I do mean to make him think he has! I mean to run +down the river a few miles and anchor where they can't find us, simply +to get out of the way. Then we'll run back to-morrow in time for the +luncheon. What do you think of that?" + +Peter, his forehead rumpled like a corduroy road, stared at him fixedly +and thought it over. "I think it's the best thing in sight," he said +judicially. "An exceedingly neat little idea." + +"If we're being watched, it may persuade them that we've gone. Anyway, +it will give us time to decide what next," said Varney. And he hurried +off to confer with the sailing-master. + +Presently the engine-room bell rang out a signal. Orders were given and +repeated above and below. Men began moving about swiftly. The noise of +coal scraped hurriedly out of bunkers smote the air. The _Cypriani's_ +hold throbbed with sudden life. + +Varney, running hastily through the two newspaper stories again to make +sure that they had missed nothing that might be important to them, was +presently joined by Peter, who was looking at his watch every third +minute and swearing softly every time he looked. Something had been +discovered amiss with the machinery, it seemed. The captain was sure he +would have the plaguy thing all right in another half-hour, but you +never could tell. For his part he'd swear that a yacht was worse than +an old-style motor car: you could absolutely count on her to be out of +order at any moment when you positively had to have her. + +To be delayed until somebody appeared to challenge their going was to +lose half the battle. Varney went off to the sailing-master and spoke +with him again, concisely. The sailing-master, a sensitive man to +criticism, once more apologized, very technically, and redoubled his +energies. He went below himself to superintend the repairs and to prod +the laggards to their utmost endeavors. In less than three quarters of +an hour, by Peter's watch, he was up again, in a shower of falling +perspiration, to announce that all was ready. + +However, valuable moments had been lost. It was now nearly half-past +twelve, or, in Peter's indignant summary, "just an hour and a half too +late." + +Varney glanced toward the bridge. + +"All ready there?" he called. + +"All ready, sir," said the sailing-master, and sprang for the indicator. + +"Hold on," said Peter suddenly. "We're getting visitors. There's some +one signaling us from the shore." + +Varney's heart bounded. He turned with an exclamation; but in the next +breath, he ordered: "Let her go, Ferguson." + +Upon the shore, at the spot where the _Cypriani's_ boat ordinarily +landed, stood a tallish, stocky young man, looking at them cheerfully +and swabbing his brow with a large blue handkerchief. Catching Varney's +eye, he waved his hand with the handkerchief in it, and said, for the +second time: + +"Hello, aboard the _Cypriani!_" + +Varney stepped to the rail, a faint smile on his lip. "Hello, there! +What can we do for you?" + +"Hot as merry hell, isn't it?" said the young man pleasantly. "Send a +boat over for me, will you? I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the New +York _Daily_, and I want to come aboard for a little talk." + +"Never in this world!" breathed Peter, _sotto voce_. + +Varney smiled, grimly. "Sorry, Mr. Hammerton. You're just too late. We +are starting away from Hunston this very minute." + +The _Cypriani_ shuddered like a live thing and slid slowly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +WHICH SHOWS THE HERO A FUGITIVE + +Four miles downstream, the river's banks grew a long mile apart, and the +scenery was lonesome and a little wild. Here, as it chanced, there was +flung across the water a thin, rocky island, well-wooded and of a +respectable length. It lay nearest the western shore; and not a hamlet +or even a house, it seemed, commanded it from either side. + +They recognized it from afar as ideal anchorage for a yacht which wanted +to be let alone. So they slowed down into the island's curving shore and +dropped anchor in the lee of it, out of sight of the Hunston side of the +river and in little evidence from any point in midstream above or below. + +Securely hidden from the probing eye of the press, they were now in +something of a quandary as to what their next step should be. The hour +set for the luncheon, upon which their mission hung, was only +twenty-four hours away: and they had no idea whether the guest of honor +intended to come or stay away. Varney was torn between the necessity of +keeping clear of reporters, and the even more pressing necessity of +calling upon Mary Carstairs. If to go to town was a risk, not to go to +town was a much greater one. + +They finally decided that Peter should go to Hunston first, at once and +alone. He would walk in, lest the use of the _Cypriani_ boat should +betray them; and there take charge of the situation and see what could +be done. + +"You sit tight," Peter urged, "and give me a chance at it first. The +_Gazette_ has got nothing on me, you know; they can camp on my +shirt-tail till they get good and tired. Meantime, I'll spread it around +that you've gone away and that I'm hanging on a day or two longer to +help Hare. You only came on a pleasure trip, and all these sensational +lies spoiled your pleasure: so you pulled out. That's plausible and +reasonably true, you see. Then I'm going to find that fellow Hammerton +and try to bluff him off." + +"How?" + +"I'd much like to give him money, but it's never safe to try that with +reporters. Oh, I'll hobnob with the fellow, hand him cigars, jolly him +along about the neat way they got revenge on us for the meeting, and +sort of take it for granted that the incident ended when they chased you +away from town. If he seems dubious and acts as if he meant to work on +the 'secret mission' idea just the same, I'll go in and call on Coligny +Smith. Oh, I'm not going to hit him. If I hadn't known that would be the +worst possible tactics, I'd have gone uptown at nine o'clock this +morning and yanked him out of bed by his long, lying ears. I'm only +going to talk to him in a kindly way. He told us himself that he was out +for the hard money, you know." + +"All right," said Varney. + +Peter hesitated. "You've _got_ to go in, I suppose? It's hard luck. Here +we are working overtime to build up the popular idea that you've quit +and gone back to New York. It'll be deuced awkward if that reporter nabs +you the minute you set foot in Hunston." + +"I've got to risk it. I'll wait a while, though, and give them a chance +to drop the trail. And when I do go in, I'm not going with a brass +band." + +"There's not the least hurry," said Peter. "You've got all the rest of +the day--to-morrow morning, too, for that matter. Wait here till you +hear from me, will you? Maybe I can turn up something which will save +you from having to go in at all." + +Varney grinned. "Remember yesterday, Peter?--when you were coming back +at ten o'clock and came at four? No more unlimited contracts from me. It +is twenty minutes past one now. You can get in by two thirty if you +hustle. I must start in by half-past four. It wouldn't be safe to wait +any longer." + +"Give me a show, will you? Make it five, anyway." + +"Five, then. If you're not back on the dot, in I start for my call. Till +we meet again." + +Peter started down the stair, hesitated, turned and came back again. +"Larry," he said, with sudden gruffness, "of course, we 've both been +thinking that if it hadn't been for me, none of this mess would have +happened. I kick myself when I think--" + +"Drop it, Peter. Nobody in the world could have foreseen--" + +"Every ass in the United States," said Maginnis, his ponderous foot on +the ladder, "could have foreseen it but me. I just want you to know that +politics is absolutely sidetracked now. Before I'll let this deal of +ours fall through, I'll see Hare licked till they can't scrape him +together afterward with a fine-tooth comb." + +It was deadly quiet on the yacht after Peter left. At two o'clock Varney +went down to a solitary luncheon. At quarter past, followed by the +reproachful gaze of McTosh, he came out again. In the pit of his stomach +reposed a great emptiness, but it was not hunger. He felt restless, +high-strung, all made of nerves. He wanted to do something of a violent, +physical sort, the more grueling the better; and his task was to loll in +an easy-chair under a pretty awning and inspect the landscape. + +The port side of the _Cypriani_ was jammed as close into the island as +the science of navigation made possible. Varney went over to the other +side and sat down to wait. In front of him, a hundred yards away, the +western bank rose abruptly from the water's edge, reaching here and +there to loftiness. There were woods upon it, thick and silent, which +looked as if the defiling hand of man had never entered there. At his +back was the still, empty little island; at either side stretched the +deserted river. + +He thought it as lonely a spot as could have been found in a day's +journey, but a moment later he discovered his mistake. It was suddenly +borne in upon him that the tall, thin object which nestled so closely +among the trees a mile to the south that it was scarcely distinguishable +from them, was in reality the spire of some church; and he knew that he +was much closer to his kind than he had thought. + +And then, in time, he noticed other things. Before a great while, he saw +a boat with one person in it--a woman he thought--put out from the shore +at about where the village must be and start across to the other bank. +And later, as the afternoon wore on, he caught sight of a canoe, a few +hundred yards upstream, rocking idly down with the current. An +elderly-looking man sat in it, with a short brown beard and sun-goggles +showing under his soft hat--for the water burned under a brilliant +sky--stolidly fishing and reading a book. He looked like a rusticating +college professor--of Greek, say--and this theory seemed to be supported +by his obvious ignorance as to how to keep a canoe on the popular side +of the water. + +And later still a row-boat came swinging briskly up the quiet channel +where the yacht lay and passed her at fifty yards. A man and a woman sat +in it, presumably bound for Hunston, and they stared at the hidden, +detected _Cypriani_ with a degree of frank interest which suggested that +they would not fail to mention the strange sight to every acquaintance +they met in town. + +"That's the beauty about a yacht," thought Varney, annoyed. "You might +as well try to hide an elephant in a hall room." + +But his mind soon strayed from the pair of bumpkins and went off to +other and more pressing matters. He had now, not one great difficulty to +meet and overcome, but two. One of them was to make Uncle Elbert's +daughter keep her engagement with him. The other was to prevent the +_Gazette_ from linking the name of the _Cypriani_ with the name of +Carstairs to-morrow morning. About the first of these he allowed himself +no doubts. If the worst came to the worst, he would turn to Mrs. +Carstairs. Brutal it might be to compel the mother to introduce the +kidnapper to his quarry, her daughter; but that was no fault of his. He +would do his duty by Mrs. Carstairs's husband, no matter who got hurt. +Miss Carstairs should come to the _Cypriani_ to-morrow as she had +promised. In heaven or earth, on land or sea, there was no power which +should keep him from having his will there. + +But then there was the _Gazette_. Smith, the clever, would doubt that +the _Cypriani_ had really gone back to New York. Suppose, since he could +not find her, he would venture a few shrewd guesses in his paper +to-morrow morning connecting that "secret mission" the _Daily_ had +mentioned with Mrs. Elbert Carstairs. Miss Carstairs would see what the +_Gazette_ said; and what questions would she have to ask him before she +would come as his guest to the yacht?... + +A ripple of water fell across the young man's thought, and he glanced +up. The college professor, whom the current had washed much nearer now, +fancying, it appeared, that he had got a bite, had suddenly thrown +himself far over the edge of his canoe, stretching his rod to the +farthest reach. The slender birch-bark tipped so violently that even he +noticed it; and the next instant, he sprang back again, rocking at a +great rate. + +"Simpleton!" thought Varney. "He will go over in a minute...." + +Now her face rose before him as he had seen it first last night at +Stanhope's cottage, radiant as a dream come true--looking at him and +saying: "I'd like it very much if you could just trust _me!_" And he saw +her again when she had looked at him, eye to eye over the many heads +before the theatre, with only blank unrecognition in her glance, or had +there been, after all, a sort of latent sorrowfulness there? And then he +saw her once more, as she stood in the little box-office, her cheeks +suddenly stained red, when she begged him, please, not to ask her to +discuss it any more.... + +A sudden sharp thought came to him, putting all his imaginings to +flight, a thought so vital and so obvious that it was incredible that it +had not once crossed his mind before. If the _Gazette_ doubted that he +had returned to New York, if it was still on his trail and still wanted +to embarrass him, _it would send a man straight to Mrs. Carstairs_. + +How could he possibly have overlooked that? With the secret of the +_Cypriani's_ ownership out, of course that would be the first thing +Smith would think of: to ask Mrs. Carstairs what had brought her +husband's yacht to Hunston. And when the reporter went, who could say +what damaging admission he might surprise out of the poor lady, or at +the least what inklings to hang diabolical guesses upon? Worst of all, +he might see Miss Carstairs herself--awaken no one knew what suspicions +in her already perplexed mind. + +He sprang up and glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes past four. +Every minute had become precious now, and waiting for Peter was of +course not to be thought of. While he loitered ineffectually here, +Coligny Smith, four miles away, might be doing his plans the +irremediable injury. And he started for the cabin swiftly to get his +hat. + +But there came an interruption which stopped him short. A quick loud +splashing and sudden cries arose from the water near at hand; and he +divined instantly what had happened. The college professor, like the ass +he was, had upset his canoe. + +Varney halted, strode back to the rail. The professor came up +spluttering, blowing quarts of water from his mouth and nose, making +feeble strokes with his ineffective, collegiate arms. + +"Help!" he called in a thin watery voice. "Help! I can't swim." Whereon, +he immediately bobbed under again. + +Of course, there was nothing to do but accede to that request. + +"Lay hold of the canoe," called Varney impatiently, when the poor fellow +reappeared. "I'll send a boat down for you." + +There had been no chance of his drowning: for the overturned canoe was +staunch, and floated, a splendid life-belt, not a foot away from him. At +Varney's word, he seized hold of it feebly, with both hands. The crew +were quick. One or two of them had been watching the madman's antics for +some time, it appeared; and they had a boat down and over to him in no +time. + +Sopping with water, dripping it from his clothes and his hair and his +brown academic beard, a dazed and pitiable-looking object, he came up +the ladder not without nimbleness, and stepped through the gangway upon +the deck. + +Varney took it that his own duties in the matter were now at an end. +"Hold your places," he called to the boat crew. "I shall need you myself +at once." + +Then he turned hurriedly to the man he had rescued, who stood silently +on the deck, wringing cups of water from the skirts of his black cutaway +coat. + +"I'll have them bring you dry clothes," he said swiftly, "and anything +else you need. You'll excuse me? I am compelled to--" + +But at that he stopped dead; for the brown beard of the college +professor suddenly loosened and fell upon the deck. The professor, not +at all discomposed by the extraordinary accident, kicked it carelessly +to one side, and pitching his large hat and goggles after it, faced +Varney with a jovial smile. + +"You don't happen to have a thimble-full of redeye about, do you, Mr. +Varney?" he asked chattily. "I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the +_Daily_, you know, and that river down there is _wet_." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +A YELLOW JOURNALIST SECURES A SCOOP BUT FAILS TO GET AWAY WITH IT + +Garbed in a suit of Varney's clothes, warmed beneath his belt by a +libation from the _Cypriani's_ choicest stock, eased as to his person by +a pillow beneath his head and a comfortable rest for his feet, Charlie +Hammerton threw back his head and laughed. + +"I'm not crazy about those grand-stand plays as a rule," he said. +"Because in the first place they're yellow, and in the second place +they're a darned lot of bother. But I just _had_ to see you--I guess you +know why--and I couldn't think of anything else that struck me as really +sure. How'd I do it? Fair imitashe, hey? And I only told one lie, which +is pretty good for a proposition of this sort. I _can_ swim, Mr. Varney. +Like a blooming duck." + +Varney laughed. "You're half an hour too late in telling me that, you +know! But tell me how you managed all this: it was so clever! And do try +one of these cigars." + +They sat at ease on the awninged after-deck, a wicker table between them +convivial with decanters and their recognized appurtenances, like two +old friends met for a happy reunion. The _Gazette's_ star reporter was +as different from one's conception of a dangerous adversary as it is +possible for a man to be. He seemed only a pleasant-faced, friendly boy +of twenty-three or four, with an honest eye and a singularly infectious +laugh. + +"Don't mind if I do--thanks!" said Hammerton, to the proffer of cigars. +"Well, it wasn't so very hard. After you steamed off, and left me gazing +nervously out to sea like a deserted fisher's wife, I--" + +"No, you don't!" laughed Varney. "Begin way back at the beginning. I'm +as ignorant as a baby about all this, you know." + +Hammerton rather liked the idea of lolling on a luxurious yacht and +explaining to the outwitted owner just how he had done it. + +"Well," he said, "it's like this. When you fellows jumped in and +kidnapped Ryan and banged the administration in the eye and slapped the +_Gazette_ some stinging ones on the wrist, of course, we couldn't just +sit still and go quietly on with our knitting. Nay, nay! So we played up +that gossip about you as strong as we could, sort of guessing that it +might hurt your feelings a little. I'm going to be frank with you, you +see! And then another idea came to us that wasn't half bad. You said you +were Mr. Laurence Varney of New York. Well, whether that was true or +not--begging your pardon, of course!--that gave it a New York interest, +don't you see? So Mr. Smith, more by way of a feeler than anything else, +wired it off to the _Daily_--" + +"Why," interrupted Varney, "I thought you were the correspondent of the +_Daily_?" + +"So I am. But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing +it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he +called me in and showed me the _Daily_. You've seen it, I suppose? Of +course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and +particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery +idea. Smith said: 'There appears to be more in this than meets the eye, +Charles. Hustle you down to the _Cypriani_, or ever the birds be flown.' +So I hustled. But then I did a fool thing that nearly gummed the game +entirely. Just at the edge of the woods, I met a boy coming up the hill. + +"Maybe you remember that kid, Mr. Varney--the telegraph boy? He was just +on his way back from the yacht when I ran into him." + +"Come to think of it, I believe I did see that boy hanging around here." + +"As hard a little nut," said Hammerton, "as you ever saw in your life. +When he saw me, he stopped short and asked where I was going. I told him +to the yacht. ''T ain't no use,' he said--I won't try to give his +lingo--'they've gone.' And the little devil actually went on to tell me +how he had overheard the two gentlemen talking--guys he called you--and +how you had decided to return to New York at once, and how he had looked +back from the shore and seen the yacht already steaming away." + +Thus Varney learned that he had one friend in Hunston who was true to +him, according to his poor little lights; and he felt that that kindly +lie of Tommy Orrick's, if it was ever set down against him anywhere, +must be the kind that is blotted out again in tears. + +"Why, I've been good to that kid," said Hammerton, "giving him +cigar-ends nearly every time I see him and that sort of thing. I never +thought he had so much pure _malice_ in him. Well, like a fool, I turned +right around and went back. I felt so pleased about it--for of course +that was just what the _Gazette_ wanted--that I dropped in at the +Ottoman for an eye-opener, and by Jove! it was nearly an hour before I +got back to the office." + +He laughed, at first ruefully, then merrily--for had not everything +turned out in the most satisfactory way in the world? + +"Smith's a beaut," he said, shaking his head reminiscently. "I don't +believe anything ever got away from him since he was big enough to sit +in front of a desk. When I told him that you fellows had gone back to +New York, he never batted an eye. He just pulled a telescope out of the +bottom drawer of his desk and went up to the roof. In two minutes he was +down again. 'Charles,' he said in that quiet biting way of his, 'God may +have put bigger fools than you into this world, but in his great mercy +he has not sent them to retard the work of the _Gazette_. The yacht lies +precisely where she has lain for these two days. Will it be quite +convenient for you to drop down there and have a talk, or do you design +to wait until the gentlemen call at your desk and beg the privilege of +telling you all?'" + +He laughed again, this time without a trace of resentment; and so merry +and spontaneous was this laugh that Varney could not help joining in. + +"I suppose old Smith can tell you to go-to-hell more politely, yet more +thoroughly, than any man that ever lived. I _ran_--and I was just in +time at that, hey? Well, when you fellows steamed off, I kind of +suspected that you weren't going very far. So I got a boy and had him +trail you down the old River road on a wheel. By the time he got back +and told me that I had sized it up about right, I had my plans arranged +and my make-up all ready. That make-up was rather neat, I thought, what? +Meantime, a long wire had come in from the _Daily_ office, which made me +keener than ever to see you. So I hired another wheel, ran on down, +borrowed a canoe from a man I know here, and I guess you know the rest." + +"I should say I did," said Varney. "Ha, ha! I should rather say I did." + +One reason why it was so advantageous to make the boy talk was that it +gave one a chance to think. All the time that he had listened so +pleasantly to this garrulous chatter, Varney had been swiftly planning. +Now he had the situation pretty well analyzed and saw all the ways that +there were. + +He might send the reporter away convinced that there was nothing in this +new theory, after all, that the _Gazette's_ trump card in fighting +Maginnis and Reform was still his own unhappy resemblance to the +outlawed author. Or he might send him off with enough of a new theory to +make him think it unnecessary to go to Mrs. Carstairs or her +daughter--the fatal possibility. Or, if both of these proved +impracticable as they almost certainly would, there was only one course +left: he would not let Hammerton go away at all. + +"But have another little drop or two, won't you? Those dips with your +clothes on aren't a bit good for the health." + +"Well, just a little tickler," said Charlie Hammerton. But he permitted +himself to be helped quite liberally, with no protesting "when." "My +regards, Mr. Varney! Also my compliments and thanks for accepting the +situation like such a genuine game one." + +Varney nodded. "The fortunes of war, Mr. Hammerton. But do go on. You +have no idea how interesting the newspaper game is to an outsider, +particularly--ha, ha!--when it walks right across his own quiet career. +As I understand it, you're on the regular staff of the _Gazette_, and +then are a special correspondent of the _Daily_, besides?" + +Hammerton, cocksure of his game and pleasantly cheered by the potent +draught, thought that he had never interviewed so agreeable a man. + +"That's it exactly. Then, besides, we run a little news-bureau at the +_Gazette_, you know--sell special stuff, whenever there's anything +doing, to papers all over the country. The bureau didn't touch this +story last night--why, I thought it was too 'it-is-understood' and +'rumor-has-it' and all that, to go even with the _Daily_--in your old +own town. It'll be different to-night, all right. We'll query our whole +string on it now--unless," he added with frank despondency, "the darned +old Associated Press decides to pinch it." + +"Query them, Mr. Hammerton?" + +"Yes, wire them a brief, kind of piquant outline of the story, you know, +and ask them if they don't want it. And I sort of guess they'll all want +it, all right!" + +"We'll see about that in a minute," laughed Varney. "There's lots of +time. Tell me about that brilliant young editor of yours, Mr. Smith. The +men in the office all like him and sympathize with his policies, I +suppose?" + +Hammerton laughed, doubtfully. "Well, they all look up to him and +respect him as one of the cleverest newspaper men in the country. +Personally, I like old Smith fine, though nobody ever gets close to him +a bit. He's mighty good to me--lets me write little editorials two or +three times a week, and says I'm not so awful at it. As for sympathizing +with his policies--well, you know I'm not sure Smith sympathizes with +'em much himself. I have a kind of private hunch that he's gotten sore +on his job and would sell out if somebody--well, suppose we say our +friend Ryan--would offer him his price. No, I'm not so keen for these +indirect methods, Mr. Varney. At the same time, it's part of the game, I +suppose, and I always believe in playing a game right out to the end, +for everything there is in it." + +At the unmistakable significance in his tone, Varney looked up and found +the reporter's eyes fixed upon him in an odd gaze which made him look +all at once ten years older and infinitely difficult to baffle: a gaze +which made it plain, in fact, that the wearer of it was not to be put +off with anything short of the whole truth. The next second that look +broke into an easy laugh, and Hammerton was a chattering boy again. + +But Varney's mood rose instantly to meet the antagonism of the +reporter's look, and hung there. He pulled a silver case from his +pocket, selected a cigarette with care and lit it with deliberation. He +had learned everything that he wanted to know; the conversation was +beginning to grow tiresome; and he found the boy's careless +self-confidence increasingly exasperating. + +"But as for undercutting Hare," laughed Hammerton, "I don't like it a--" + +"Tell me this," Varney interrupted coolly. "When the _Gazette_ prepared +its story about me last night, did it believe for one moment that I was +this man Stanhope?" + +"Why, I'm not the _Gazette_, of course," said Hammerton, a little taken +aback by the cool change of both topic and manner, "but my private +suspicion is that it entertained a few doubts on the subject. What do we +think now? Look here, Mr. Varney," the boy said amiably, "you've been +white about this business, and I do really want to show that I +appreciate it." + +He fumbled in the side-pocket of his wet coat, which hung on a near-by +chair, produced a damp paper of the familiar yellow, smoothed it out and +handed it across the table. + +"I guess I won't keep any secrets from you, Mr. Varney." + +Varney, taking the telegram with a nod, read the following: + + _Gazette_, HUNSTON: + + Varney-Stanhope story good stuff, but lacking details, + vague and inaccurate. Stanhope located in Adirondacks, + though not reached. See _Daily_ to-day. Man on yacht + Varney. Apparent secrecy surrounding departure from + here. Interview him sure and secure full statement as + to business which brought him to Hunston. Also interview + Mrs. Elbert Carstairs in Hunston. She separated + from husband years ago. His yacht there with name + erased suggests mystery. Rush fullest details day-rate if + necessary. Pictures made. Expect complete story and + interviews early to-night sure. + S. P. STOKES. + +"Now," said Charlie Hammerton, when Varney looked up, "you see why I +went to such a lot of trouble to get hold of you." + +"Yes," said Varney, slowly, his eye upon him, "I see." + +He folded the telegram, laid it at Hammerton's elbow, got up and stood +with his hands on the back of his chair, looking down. At the thought +that he had ever hoped to call the reporter off, to stop this deadly +machinery of journalism, once it had been started, he could have +laughed. The _Daily_ telegram showed how impossible that had always +been. Now it was suddenly and overwhelmingly plain that to force a +fight on Hammerton, which had been his favorite purpose from the +beginning, even to seize and lock him up, would be of no avail whatever. +Other reporters in endless procession, waited behind him, ready to step +into his place; and the pitiless machinery, in which he, Varney, +happened to be caught at the moment, would go steadily grinding on till +it had crushed out the heart of the hidden truth. + +He saw no way out at all. His mind revolved at fever heat, while he said +calmly: "Go back to your employers, Mr. Hammerton, and report that you +have no story to sell them. Say further that since they knowingly +printed a lying slander about me this morning, you, as an honorable man, +insist upon their making full retractions and apologies to-morrow." + +Hammerton, who had taken his interview as a foregone conclusion, looked +momentarily astounded; but on top of that his manner changed again, to +meet Varney's changed one, in the wink of an eye. + +"You can't mean," he said briskly, ignoring Varney's last remark +entirely, "that you decline to make a statement for our readers?" + +"Why should I encourage your readers to stick their infernal noses into +my business?" + +"For your own sake, Mr. Varney--because everybody has started asking +questions. To refuse to answer them, from your point of view, is the +worst thing you could do. As you know, newspapers always have other +sources of information, and also ways of making intelligent guesses. +While these guesses are usually surprisingly accurate, it sometimes +happens that we work out a theory that is a whole lot worse than the +truth." + +"Of course," said Varney, with sudden absentness. "That's the way you +sell your dirty papers, is n't it?" + +"Mr. Varney, why did you come--?" began Hammerton, but stopped short, +perceiving that the other no longer listened, and quite content to leave +him to a little reflection. + +For Varney, struck by a thought so new that it was overwhelming, had +unexpectedly turned away. He leaned upon the rail and looked out over +the blue, sunny water. A brilliant plan had flashed into his mind--a big +daring plan which, far more than anything else he had thought of, might +be effective and final. Instead of making an enemy of Hammerton, which +could accomplish nothing, it would turn him into a champion, which meant +victory. + +It was a desperate solution, but it was a solution. + +After all, what else remained? To dismiss the boy with nothing would be +to send him straight to the Carstairs house with no one knew what +results. To manhandle him would be simply to start another sleuth on the +trail. But this plan, if it worked, would avoid that, and every other, +risk of trouble. And if it failed, he would be no worse off than he was +now; for in that case he would not allow Hammerton to go back to the +_Gazette_ at all that day. + +He dropped his cigarette over the side, turned and found the eye of the +press firmly fastened upon him. + +"Mr. Varney," said Hammerton, with swift acuteness, "maybe I'm not as +bad a fellow as you think. Why can't you trust me with this story--of +what brought you to Hunston, and what made you run away this morning and +hide? If it's really something that newspapers haven't got anything to +do with, I'll go straight back to the office and make them leave you +alone. Oh, I have enough influence to do it, all right! And if it's +something different and--well, a little unusual, I'll promise to put you +in the best light possible. Why don't you trust me with it?" + +"Well," said Varney with a stormy smile, "suppose I do, then!" + +"Good!" cried Hammerton cordially, observing him, however, with some +intentness. "Honestly, it's the very best thing you could do." + +Varney rested upon the back of his chair again and stood staring down at +the reporter for some time in silence. + +"Mr. Hammerton," he began presently, "I know that the great majority of +newspaper men are fair and honorable and absolutely trustworthy. I know +that it is a part of their capital to be able to keep a secret as well +as to print one. For this reason, I have upon reflection decided to +confide--certain facts to you, feeling sure that they will never go any +further--" + +"Of course, Mr. Varney," the reporter interrupted, "you understand that +I can't make any promises in advance." + +"Let the risk be mine," said Varney. "I am certain that when you have +heard what I have to tell you, you will report to your papers that my +'mysterious errand' turns out to be simply a matter of personal and +private business, with which the public has no concern, and whose +publication at this time would hopelessly ruin it. Mr. Hammerton, I came +to Hunston to see Miss Mary Carstairs." + +A gleam came into Hammerton's eye. Varney, watching that observant +feature, knew that no detail of his story, or of his manner in telling +it, would escape a most critical scrutiny. + +"The fewer particulars the better," he said grimly. "I shall tell the +substance because that seems now, after all, the best way to protect the +interests of those concerned. Mr. Hammerton, as the _Daily_ told you, +Mr. Carstairs and his wife have separated, though they are still on +friendly terms with each other. Their only child remains with the +mother. Mr. Carstairs is getting old. He is naturally an affectionate +man, and he is very lonely. In short, he has become most anxious to have +his daughter spend part of her time with him. Mrs. Carstairs entirely +approves of this. The daughter, however, absolutely refuses to leave her +mother, feeling, it appears, that nothing is due her father from her. +Arguments are useless. Well, what is to be done? Mr. Carstairs, because +his great need of his daughter grows upon him, conceives an unusual +plan. He will send an ambassador to Hunston--unaccredited, of course, a +man, young, not married, who--don't think me a coxcomb--but who might +be able to arouse the daughter's interest. This ambassador is to go on +Mr. Carstairs's own yacht, the name, of course, being erased, so that +the daughter may not recognize it. He is to meet the young lady, +cultivate her, make friends with her--all without letting her dream that +he comes from her father, for that would ruin everything. And, then--" + +He broke off, paused, considered. In Hammerton's eye he saw a light +which meant sympathy, kindly consideration, human interest. He knew that +the battle was half won. He had only to say: "And then talk to her about +her poor old father, who loves her, and who is growing old in a big +house all by himself; and tell her how he needs her so sorely that old +grudges ought to be forgotten; and ask her, in the name of common +kindness, to come down and pay him a visit before it is too late." He +had only to say that, and he knew, for he read it in Hammerton's whole +softened expression, that the boy would go away with his lips locked. + +But he couldn't say that, the reason being that it was not true. + +"And then," he said, with a truthfulness so bold that he was sure the +reporter would not follow it, "and then--don't you see? he is to try to +_make_ her go down to New York and pay a visit to that lonely old father +who needs her so badly. Since she is so obstinate about it, he must find +some way to _make_ her go before it is too late. _Now_ do you +understand, Mr. Hammerton? _Now_ do you perceive why the thought of +having all this pitiful story scareheaded in a penny paper is +insufferable to me?" + +He towered above Hammerton, crisp words falling like leaden bullets, +stern, insistent, determined to be believed. But he saw a look dawn on +the younger man's face which made him instantly fear that he had told +too much. + +And then suddenly Hammerton sprang to his feet, keen eyes shot with +light, ruddy cheek paled a little with excitement, fronting Varney in +startled triumph over the drinks they had shared. + +"Make her!" he blurted in a high shrill voice. "Mr. Varney, _you came up +here to kidnap her!_" + +The two men stared at each other in a moment of horrified silence. +Something in the reporter's air of victory, in the kind of thrilling joy +with which he pounced upon the carefully guarded little secret and +dragged it out into the light, made him all at once loathsome in +Varney's eyes, a creature unspeakably repellent. + +Suddenly he leaned across the little table and struck Hammerton lightly +across the mouth with the back of his hand. + +"You cad," he said whitely. + +But Hammerton, never to be stopped by details now, ignored both the +insult and the blow. He was on the rail like a cat, ready to swim for +it, hot to take his great scoop to Mrs. Carstairs, to Coligny Smith, to +readers of newspapers all over the land. + +The table was between them, and it went over with a crash. Quick as he +was, Varney was barely in time. His hand fell upon the reporter's coat +when another fraction of a second would have been too late. Then he +flung backward with a wrench, and Hammerton came toppling heavily to the +deck. + +Smarting with the pain of the fall, hot with anger at last, the +reporter was up in an instant, spitting blood, and they clenched with +the swiftness of lightning. Then they broke away, violently, and went at +it in grim earnest. + +It was the fight of a lifetime for each of them and they were splendidly +matched. Hammerton was two inches the shorter, but he had twenty pounds +of solid weight to offset that; and in close work, especially, his +execution was polished. They had it up and down the deck, hammer and +tongs, swinging, landing, rushing, sidestepping. At the first crash of +broken glass on the deck, the crew had begun to appear, unobtrusively +from all directions. Now cabin-hatch, galley-hatch, deck-house, every +coign of vantage along the battlefield held its silent cluster of +wondering figures. But McTosh, familiar old family retainer, slipped +nearer at the first opportunity and whispered, in just that eager tone +with which he pressed a side-dish upon one's notice: + +"Can't I give you a little help, sir?" + +"Keep away, steward," said Varney, between clenched teeth, "or you'll +get hurt." + +Saying which, he received a savage blow on the point of the chin and +struck the deck with a thud. + +"Oh, my Gawd, sir!" breathed McTosh. + +But his young master was on his feet like a tiger, in a whirl of crazy +passion. He had resolved all along that Hammerton would have to kill him +before he should get away with that secret. Now it came to him like a +divine revelation that the way to avoid this was to kill Hammerton. To +that pleasant end, he goaded his adversary with a light blow, +side-stepped his rush, uppercutted and the reporter went down, almost +head first, and cruelly hard. + +He came up dazed, game but very wild, and Varney got another chance +promptly, which was just as well. Hammerton went down again, head on +once more, and this time he did not come up at all. + +The crew, unable to repress themselves, let out a cheer, and came +crowding on the deck. But Varney, standing over Hammerton's limp body, +waved them back impatiently. + +"Hold your noise!" he ordered. "And stand back! I'm attending to this +job!" + +He picked Hammerton up in his arms, staggered with him to his own +stateroom, and laid him down on the bunk. The boy did not stir, gave no +visible sign of life. But when Varney put his hand over the other's +heart, he found it beating away quite firmly. His breathing and pulse +were regular--everything was quite as it should be. He would come round +in half an hour, and be as good a man as ever. And he would have a long, +idle time to rest, and look after his bruises and get back his strength +again. + +Varney took the key from the door, put it in outside, turned it and came +on deck again. The crew had vanished to their several haunts. Two +deck-hands in blouses and red caps had just completed the rehabilitation +of the deck, and at sight of him discreetly vanished forward. + +"Ferguson," called Varney, "a word with you, please." + +The grizzled sailing-master came quickly, obviously curious for an +explanation of these strange matters. + +Rapidly Varney explained to him that the incarcerated man was a reporter +who thought that he had got hold of a scandalous story about Mr. +Carstairs, and was most anxious to get ashore so that he could publish +this scandal all over the country. + +"I am obliged to go to town immediately," he continued. "Rumors of this +ugly story have already been started, and I must do everything I can to +nail them. I am going to trust the responsibility here to you. As soon +as I leave the yacht, I want you to start her down the river. That is to +get the gentleman and the yacht out of the way. Go straight ahead for +two or three hours and then come back. Make your calculations so that +you'll get back here at--say ten o'clock to-night--here, mind you, not +the old anchorage. I'll be ready to come aboard by that time. Have two +men guard that stateroom constantly every minute. Give the gentleman +every possible attention, but don't let him make any noise, and don't +let him get out. No matter what he says or does, _don't let him get +out_. Do you follow me?" + +"I do, sir. To the menootest detail." + +"If you carry the matter through, you may rely upon Mr. Carstairs's +gratitude. If, on the other hand, you fail--" + +"Oh, I'll not fail, sir. Have no fear of that." + +"I am speaking to you man to man, Ferguson, when I say, for God's sake +don't." + +He walked away to arrange himself a little for the town, seeing clearly +that there was but one possible way out of all this for him now. The +sailing-master stared after him with a very curious expression upon his +weather-beaten face. + +At about the same moment, in a tiny room four miles away, an elderly, +melancholy man sat bowed over a telegraph board and drowsily plied his +keys. He was the _Gazette's_ special operator, and, having his orders +from Mr. Parker, who looked after the news bureau when Hammerton was +away, he was methodically going through his list like this: + +_Tribune_, PITTSBURG: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery surrounding +prominent men, one of whom now hiding here. Probable scandal, one +thousand words. + +_Press_, CINCINNATI: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery-- + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +VARNEY MEETS HIS ENEMY AND IS DISARMED + +Varney crossed the square in the gathering dusk and went slowly up Main +Street, looking about him as he walked. He had wrenched his ankle +slightly in one of his falls upon the _Cypriani's_ deck, and the +four-mile walk over the ruts of the River road to the town had done it +no good. Worse yet, it had made the trip down from the yacht laboriously +slow, and he was harried with the fear that the irreparable damage might +already have been done. + +If it had not, if no reporter had yet gone to the Carstairs house, his +one possible hope of escape stood before him like a palm-tree in a +plain. Stiffened and strengthened by all his difficulties, his resolve +to win throbbed and mounted within him; but he faced the knowledge that +the odds now were heavily against him. On the long chance, he had played +a desperate game, had come within an ace of winning, and had lost. His +great secret which, beyond any other purpose, he had meant to guard to +the end, was glaringly out. Now it was the iron heart of his will that +it should go no further. Talkative young Hammerton had given him the +hint how that might be accomplished; and if the method was extreme, it +would be sure. Whatever the cost, it would be a small price to pay for +keeping his name, and Uncle Elbert's, out of ruinous headlines in +to-morrow's papers. + +Two blocks further on he came opposite a neat, three-story brick +building, across the width of which was a black and gold signboard, +lettered THE GAZETTE. Below it was the large plate-glass window of a +counting-room, now dark. On the left was a lighted doorway, leading +upstairs. + +Varney crossed, climbed the stairs, found himself in a narrow upstairs +hall, rapped upon a closed ground-glass door bearing the legend +"Editorial." From within, a voice of unenthusiasm bade him enter, and he +went in, closing the door behind him. + +In a swivel-chair by an open roller-top desk, a young man sat, idly +smoking a cigarette, his back to the door, his languorous feet hung out +of the window. There were electric lights in the room, but they were not +lit. All the illumination that there was came from a single dingy +gas-fixture stuck in the wall near the desk, but that was enough. + +Varney came closer. "Smith," said he. + +"Well," said Smith. + +"I have come to see you." + +"Well--look away," said Smith. + +There was not a trace of the "Hast thou found me?" in the editor's voice +or his manner. If he expected assassination, he did not appear to mind. +He sat on without turning, staring apathetically out of the window, just +as he had done when he watched Varney cross and come in at his door. + +"I have come," said Varney, "because I understand that you are the sole +owner, as well as the editor, of this paper. Am I right?" + +Smith lit a fresh cigarette, flipped the old one out of the window and +paused to watch the boys outside fight for it. Half-smoked stubs came +frequently out of that window when Mr. Smith sat there and many boys in +Hunston knew it. + +"Assuming that you are?" queried he. + +"Assuming that," said Varney, "I'll say that I have come to buy this +paper. And to discharge you from the editorship." + +Smith drew in his feet, and swung slowly around. The two men measured +each other in an interval of intelligent silence. On the whole, upon +this close view, Varney found it harder to think of Smith as a +contemptible cur who circulated lying slanders for profit than as the +young man who wrote the famous editorials. + +"And still they come," said Smith, enigmatically. "Three of them in one +day--well, well!" And he added musingly: "So I have stung you as hard as +that, have I?" + +"Let us say rather," said Varney, whose present tack was diplomacy, +"that I have some loose money which I want to stow away in a paying +little enterprise." + +"I am the last man in the world to boast of a kindness," continued +Smith, in his faintly mocking manner, "but I gave you fair warning to +leave town." + +"Instead I stayed. And an exceedingly interesting town I have found it. +Something doing every minute. But, as I just remarked, I have looked in +to buy your paper." + +"If I were like some I know," meditated Smith, "I'd be thinking: 'The +Lord has delivered him into my hand, aye, delivered dear old Beany.' I'd +embarrass you with questions, make you blush with catechisms. But I am a +merciful man, and observe that I ask you nothing. You want to buy the +_Gazette_ for an investment. Let it stand at that. So you're the +money-grubbing sort that supposes that everything on God's hassock has +its price?" + +"I believe it's street knowledge that the _Gazette_ has its. But I +called really not so much to discuss ethics, as to ascertain your +figure." + +Smith gave a sigh which was not without its trace of mockery. +"'Fortunately, I am hardened to insults. Editors are expected to stand +anything. Times are dull--nothing much to do--drop around and kick the +editor. You've no idea what we have to put up with from spring poets +alone. Rejoice, B----, that is, Mr.--er--Blank, that the _Gazette_ is +never to be yours." + +"You can't mean that you decline to sell?" + +"When I implied to you just now that I was sole owner of the _Gazette_, +I was, of course, speaking rather reminiscently than in the strict light +of present facts." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"That I sold the _Gazette_ at four o'clock this afternoon." + +For an instant the room whirled and Varney saw nothing in it but the odd +eyes of Coligny Smith steadily fixing him. By the shock of that blow, he +realized that, after all, he had wholly counted upon succeeding in +this. From the moment when he had turned his stateroom key on +unconscious Charlie Hammerton, he had recognized it as his one chance. +And now he was too late. Clever Ryan, who missed nothing, doubtless +suspecting that the faithless editor who had sold out once to him might +now be planning to do it again to a higher bidder, had outstripped him. +And the _Gazette_ to-morrow would damn him utterly. + +But Varney's face, as these thoughts came to him, wore a faint, +non-committal smile. "That is final, I suppose?" + +"As death, so far as I am concerned. I leave Hunston permanently +to-morrow morning." + +"Who was the buyer?" + +"There is really no reason why I should divulge his confidence that I +know of; but, curses on me, I'll do it if you'll tell me this: Where is +Charles Hammerton?" + +Varney laid his hat and stick on the table, to rid his hands of them, +and faced Mr. Smith, leaning lightly against it. + +"I came here, Smith, to ask questions, not to answer them. On second +thoughts, I withdraw my last one, for I can guess the answer. But before +we proceed further, I want you to tell me this: what made you sell?" + +The editor pitched another cigarette-end out of the window. Again a +shout from the street indicated that it had become a bone of bitter +contest among the town's smokers of the _sub-rosa_ class. + +"Suppose I were to tell you," said Smith slowly, "that I anticipate a +shakeup here which will cut the backbone out of my profits? What would +you say to that?" + +"I suppose I should say that it was ever the custom of rats to desert a +sinking ship. So that was your mainspring, was it?" + +"On the contrary," said Smith. "I am taking what is technically known as +a small rise out of you. You ask why I sold. It was a man with the +price. Money," began Mr. Smith, "screams. The cash on my desk was this +man's way of doing business, and a good deal it was. However, it'll net +him six per cent year in and out, at that--a good rate in these lean +times. I, of course, did better. I got--shall we say?--pickings. The +past tense already, heigho! Well, it's been a most instructive life. My +father taught me to write. He was esteemed a good editor, and he was, +but at eighteen I was correcting his leaders for him. Hand Greeley a +soft pencil and a pass at the encyclopedia, so he used to say, and he +could prove anything under the sun. I am like that, except that--well, I +don't believe I need the encyclopedia. It wasn't Greeley who made the +remark, of course. It's a rule on the press to pin all journalistic +anecdotes on Greeley. You sign the pledge when you go in. To be +accounted strictly moral," continued Smith, "an editor must be blind in +one eye and astigmatic in the other. Then he rings the bull's-eye of +Virtue ten times out of ten, and the clergy bleats with delight. You +can't find spiritual candor anywhere with a telescope, except in the +criminal classes. There are no Pharisees there, God be praised! For my +part, I see both sides of every question that was ever asked, and +usually--don't you think?--both of them are right. I first adopt my +point of view and subsequently prove it. Obviously, this is where the +pickings come in. My grandfather started this paper on two hundred and +fifty dollars, fifty dollars of which, I have heard, was his own. I +could knock off for life as an idle member of the predatory classes, I +suppose, but after all, I was made for an editor. In years past, I have, +of course, had my offers from New York. Two of them were left open +forever, and a little while ago, I telegraphed down and took the best. A +grateful wire came in five minutes ahead of you. And that," he concluded +wearily, in the flattest tones of a curiously flat voice, "is the life +story of C. Smith, editor, up to the hour of going to press." + +Varney, who had never once been tempted to interrupt this strange +apologia, struggled with an impulse to feel desperately sorry for Mr. +Smith, and almost overcame it. + +"Smith," he said, in a moment, "why don't you tell me why you sold?" + +The editor got up and stared out of the window. Presently he turned, an +odd faint flush tingeing his ordinarily colorless cheek. His air of +smooth cynicism was gone, for once; and Varney saw then, as he had +somehow suspected before, that the editor of the _Gazette_ wore polished +bravado as a cloak and that underneath it he carried a rather troubled +soul. + +"You are right," said Smith, "I--was twigging you again. Let us say," +he added, looking at Varney with a kind of shamefaced defiance, "that a +man gets tired of living on pickings after a while." + +If he had been ten times a liar, ten times a slanderer and assassin of +character, a man would have known that the young editor spoke the truth +then. That knowledge disarmed Varney. To have sold the _Gazette_ to one +who would prostitute it still further was hardly a noble act; but for +Smith it meant unmistakably that he wanted to cut loose from the old +evil walks where he had done ill by his honor and battened exceedingly. + +"All along," said Varney slowly, "I have had a kind of sneaking feeling +that there was a spark left in you yet." + +He picked up his hat and stick again, and faced the pale young editor. + +"Smith, you have done me a devilish wrong. You have knowingly printed a +vile slander about me, aware that the natural result of your falsehood +was that some poor drunken fool would shoot me down from behind. When I +walked in here five minutes ago, I had two purposes in mind. One was to +buy your paper. The other was to throw you down the front stairs. I am +leaving now without doing either. I abandoned the first because I had +to; I abandon the second, voluntarily, because--I don't quite know +why--but I think it is because it seems inappropriate to hit a man when +he is down and something is just driving him to try to scramble up." + +He put on his hat and started to go; but Smith stopped him with a +gesture. He let his eye, from which all sign of emotion had faded, run +slowly over Varney's slender figure. + +"I wasn't such a slouch in my younger days," he said. "Football at my +prep school, football and crew at my college. Boxed some at odd moments; +was counted fair to middling. Some offhand practice since with people +I've roasted--agents, actors, and the like. As to that throwing +downstairs proposition now, if you'd care to try it on--" + +Varney shook his head. "I don't know that I can explain it--and no one +regrets it more than I--but all the wish to _smash_ you, Smith, has gone +away somewhere. The bottom has dropped out of it. Good-bye." + +"You are going? So am I," said Smith, with a fair imitation of his usual +lightness. "Going away for good. I hope you will come through this all +right. I'll never see you again. Shake hands, will you? You couldn't +know it, of course, but--it--is possible that I owe something to--you +two fellows." + +He stood motionless, half turned away, thin hands hanging loosely at his +sides. + +Varney, who had colored slightly, took a last look at him. "No," he +said, suddenly much embarrassed, "I--I'm afraid I couldn't do it in the +way you mean, and so there wouldn't be any point in it. But I--I do wish +you luck with all my heart." + +He shut the door, and started down the stairway; and he straightway +forgot Smith in the returning tide of his own difficulties. He saw +clearly that there was no longer any hope; his plans were wrecked past +mending. Persuading Miss Carstairs to keep her engagement to-morrow, his +one great problem this morning, had become an unimportant detail now. +Charlie Hammerton, with his merciless knowledge, filled the whole +horizon like a menacing mirage. + +It would not be enough to close the boy's month till after the luncheon +and then let it open to babble. For Elbert Carstairs had flatly drawn +the line at a yellow aftermath of sensation. He would count a tall-typed +scandal the day after to-morrow, when his daughter was with him, fully +as bad as the same affliction now. And, the newspaper finally lost to +them, there was no conceivable way in which that scandal could be +averted now. + +But about the moment when his foot hit the bottom of the worn stairs, +the door at the head of them burst open, and a curiously stirred voice, +which he had some difficulty in recognizing as Smith's, called his name. + +"Varney! oh, Varney! I--really meant to tell you--and then I forgot." + +He turned and saw the editor's pale face hanging over the banisters. + +"It was Maginnis I sold the _Gazette_ to, you know--Peter Maginnis. I +wouldn't have sold it to anybody else. You'll find him at the hotel +eating supper." + +Varney, looking at him, knew then what it was that Smith thought he owed +to him and Maginnis. + +He went back up the stairs and the two men shook hands in rather an +agitated silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN MR. HACKLEY, THE DOG MAN, AND MR. RYAN, THE BOSS + +At half past six o'clock, or thereabouts, James Hackley dragged slowly +up Main Street. He was garbed in his working suit of denim blue, trimmed +with monkey wrench and chisel, and he wore, further, an air of +exaggerated fatigue. A rounded protuberance upon his cheek indicated +that the exhilaration of the quid was not wanting to his inner man, but +the solace he drew from it appeared pitifully trifling. Now and then he +would pause, rest his person against a lamp-post, or the front of some +emporium, and shake his head despondently, like one most fearful of the +consequences of certain matters. + +Since four o'clock that afternoon, in fact, Mr. Hackley had been out +upon a reluctant stint of lawn-mowing, reluctant because he hated all +work with a Titanic hatred and sedulously cultivated the conviction that +his was a delicate health. In view of the magnificent windfall in +connection with the killing of his dog, it had not been his design to +accept any more retainers for a long time to come. That occurrence had +lifted him, as by the ears, from the proletariat into the capitalistic +leisure class; and the map of the world had become but the portrait of +his oyster. + +But at noon as he lolled upon his rear veranda, chatting kindly with +his wife as she hung the linen of quality upon her drying lines, a lady +had knocked upon his door, beautiful and insistent, to wheedle his will +from him. It was only a tiny bit of a lawn, she had reiterated +imploringly, hardly a constitutional to cut, and there was not one tall +fellow in all Hunston whom she would permit to touch it but Hackley. +Dead to all flattery as he was, his backbone ran to water at the +clinging beauty of her smile, and so incredibly betrayed him into +yielding. And now, at hard upon half after six o'clock, post-meridian, +the dangerous dews of night already beginning to fall, he leaned against +a lamp-post, a physical wreck, with a long block and a half still +separating him from the comforts of home. + +At the next corner but one above rose the red brick Ottoman, its +inviting side stretching for many yards down the street towards him. +Windows cut it here and there along its length, and over their green +silk half-curtains, poured forth a golden light which was hospitality +made visible. Yet, so strange are the ways of life, the proprietor of +all these luxuries, who stood at the furthest window, beyond Hackley's +range, did not look happy in their possession. His eyes gleamed +fiercely; his heavy chin protruded savagely, as though deliberately +insulting Main Street and the northward universe. Even his small derby, +which he seldom doffed save at the hour for taps, contrived to bespeak a +certain ferocity. + +The Ottoman bar was bare of customers, all Hunston now verging towards +its evening meal. Ryan rested his elbow upon its polished surface, and +glared into the twilight. He was, as luck had it, in a terrible +ill-humor. For he knew himself to-day for a man who had been physically +flouted, a boss whose supremacy had been violently assailed, a king who +felt his throne careen sickeningly beneath him. + +Last night, when four men whom he had never seen before, three of them +masked, had borne him off on a long wild drive, and dropped him at ten +o'clock in a lonely bit of country eight miles from the Academy Theatre, +there had at least been action to give point to his choler. All but out +of his mind with passion, he had besought them all, singly or quadruply, +to descend from their carriage and meet him in combat, thirsting sorely +to kill or be killed. But they had only laughed at him, silently, and +galloped away, leaving him screaming out futile curses on the empty +night air. + +Two hours later, when he had got back to Hunston, after an interminable +nightmare of running over rough ground with unaccustomed limbs, and +stumbling heavily to earth, and rising up to struggle again, he had +learned to what uses his enemies had put that absence. Smith had related +the story in the fastness of his office, and in wholly different guise +from that which it wore next morning in the columns of his newspaper. +And Ryan, listening, had slowly calmed, calmed to the still fury of +implacable hate. + +But he and Smith had quarreled violently. He was for publishing the +story of his taking off in type as black as the dastardly act. Smith had +a difficult time in holding him down, however much he pointed out that +Ryan had no shadow of proof against his new adversary on the yacht, and +that public sympathy in an affair of this sort was always with the +successful. In the end Smith had carried his point, because he was, of +those two men, both the more wise and the more resolute. But this +morning they had conferred again and quarreled even more bitterly. + +Yet Ryan, plotting in the window of his splendid gin-palace, his eye +always sweeping the evening street as though a-search, was not thinking +of the young editor now. Two other policies for the days to come +monopolized his attention. One of these was crushing victory at the +polls. The other was revenge. Probably in thinking of these, he put them +at the moment in reverse order. + +"Damn him!" he suddenly exploded: and it was not little Hare that he +cursed. "Damn his soul!" + +In the next breath, the boss suddenly ducked, and disappeared from the +half-curtained window altogether. A moment later, he appeared outside +his swinging door, yawning and stretching himself, as one who, wearied +with the tedium of life indoors, would see what beguilement might await +him abroad. + +The boss looked first up the street and permitted his beady eye to range +casually over the view. Then his gaze came slowly down and rested in +time upon the person of James Hackley, now almost directly opposite. The +boss's countenance lit up with a smile of pleased surprise. + +"Why, hello, Jim!" he called out. "Where you been hidin' yourself +lately? Ain't seen you for a week o' Sundays. Come across and pass the +time of day!" + +Mr. Hackley, who had been debating whether or not he should pause for +inspiration at the Ottoman, and had just virtuously declared for the +negative, shambled over. + +Ryan eyed him sympathetically. "You look kind o' played out, Jim. What +you been doin' with yourself? Come in and take a drop of somethin' to +hearten you up some. On the house." + +"Well," said Mr. Hackley, unable to resist the novel fascination of +liquoring gratis, "just a weeny mite for to cut the dust out o' my +windpipe." + +Ryan went behind the bar and served them himself, selecting with care a +bottle which he described as the primest stuff in the house. From this +he poured Hackley a remarkably stiff potation, slightly wetting the +bottom of his own glass the while. The bottle he left standing ready on +the bar. + +"Here's how, friend Jim!" + +Whatever Mr. Hackley's foibles, he was a man at his cups. His platform +was the straight article uncontaminated by ice or flabby +sparkling-water; and chasers and the like of those he left to +schoolboys. + +"Ain't took a drink for days," he said, holding up his glass to the +electric light and squinting through it. "Cut it out religious, I have. +Been settin' around the house, an' settin', under physic'an's orders, +tryin' fer to get my health back so's I could go to moldin' agin. But +Lordamussy, what's the use of torkin'! I ain't no more fitten fer work +than a noo-born baby. Well, here's luck, Ryan!" + +He set his glass down and involuntarily smacked his lips. The fiery +liquid percolated through him down to his very toes. He felt better at +once, more ambitious, less conscious of his constitution. And +simultaneously, he lost something of that indolent good-nature which was +the badge of all his sober hours. + +Ryan regarded him with friendly anxiety. "You gotter be more careful +with yourself, honest! Here--strengthen your holt a little. One little +swallow ain't no help to a man as beat out as you are." + +"As yer like, Dennis," said Mr. Hackley, listlessly. "What I reely need +is a good long rest, like in a 'orspittle." + +Kindly Mr. Ryan filled the small glass almost to the brim; and Hackley, +though he had modestly stipulated for "on'y a drap" tossed it all off +thirstily at a single practised toss. + +"That'll fix you up nice. But ain't I glad," said his host with a sly +chuckle, "that nobody sees you taking these drinks on the quiet, which +_we_ know you need bad for your health." + +Mr. Hackley set down his glass again, this time with something of a +bang. "How's that?" he demanded suspiciously. + +Ryan laughed deprecatingly. While doing so, he manipulated the tall dark +bottle again. + +"Shuh!" said he. "It's only the boys' fun, of course. Don't you mind +_them_, Jim." + +"What're you drivin' at?" asked Hackley, bristling a bit. "If you got +anything worth sayin' to me, spit it out plain, I say." + +"Well," laughed Ryan, "if some of the boys was to see you in here +putting away a harmless drink or so, o' course they'd say that you was +gettin' up your Dutch courage. He, he!" + +"Dutch courage!" cried Mr. Hackley, indignantly. "An' wot the hell fer?" + +"Sh! Not so loud, Jim. Why, it's only their little joke, o' course. +They'd say you was gettin' up your nerve to meet them two friends of +yours from New York! Hey? He, he!" + +"Wot friends?" asked Hackley again, hotly. + +Ryan observed the mounting color on the other's cheek and brow, and his +eye, which was like a small, glossy shoe-button, gleamed. + +"Why, that 'un that killed that dog o' yours, and put you to sleep +before the crowd, and that 'un that sent Mamie Orrick to Gawd knows +where. But shucks! Drop it, Jim. I wouldn't have allooded to it, on'y I +thought you'd see the fun of the thing." + +It takes a philosopher to perceive humor in taunts at his own personal +courage, and Mr. Hackley, with three drinks of the Ottoman's choicest +beneath his tattered waistcoat, was not that kind of man at all. + +He leaned forward against the bar with a belligerence suggesting that he +wished to push it over, pinning his pleasant-spoken host to the wall, +and pounded the top of it till the glasses tingled. + +"Fill her up with the same!" he ordered loudly, looking suddenly, and +for the first time, very much like the rough-looking customer who had +tackled Peter Maginnis in defense of his dog. "An' I'll have you know, +_Mister_ Ryan--I'll have you know, my fine, big, bouncin' buck, that Jim +Hackley ain't afeared of anythink that walks." + +Ryan filled her up again, though this time more conservatively. He was a +keen man and an excellent judge of what was enough. + +"Shuh! Don't _I_ know that, Jim! Why, after that big bloke licked the +stuffin' out of you the other night, the boys said: 'Well, that's the +last o' that little differculty! Jim Hackley'll never foller that up +none,' they says. And what'd I say?" + +"Well, what'd you say?" + +"I says, 'Hell!' I says. 'You boys don't _know_ Jim Hackley!'" + +"I'll interdooce myself to 'em!" said Hackley savagely. "And whoever +says that Maginnis licked me's a liar. You hear me? Tripped my toe on a +rock, I did, and banged all the sense outen my head--" + +"I understand, Jim," interrupted Ryan suavely. "Just what I told the +boys. O' course, just between you an me, I have been kinder took by +surprise that you've waited so long to get your evens. Why, this morning +when the piece came out in the _Gazette_, tellin' the whole town that +the feller's side-partner was that yellow cur-dog Stanhope, I says to +the boys, first thing: 'Boys, we gotter watch Jim Hackley mighty careful +to-day,' says I. 'I'm afeard there'll be gun-play before sunset.' +'Gun-play!' says they. 'F'om Hackley! Hell,' says they. 'You boys,' says +I, 'don't know old Jim like I do!' And then o' course,--he, he!--as the +whole day slipped by and nothin' doin' at all--why, o' course, I won't +deny that they ain't been jollyin' me some." + +Hackley leaned far over the bar, and shook his fist in the boss's face. +"I ain't a man," he shouted, "to be pushed an' a-nagged at in a deal +like this. I takes my time, I makes my plans, I decides on the ways I'll +do it. Do yer pipe to that? An' now I've got ever'think fixed and I'm +ready. Do yer see!" + +The boss, who had retreated a step before that menacing fist, glanced +out of the window and instantly started, this time with an amazement +that was genuine. + +"Why, blast my eyes," he cried, raising a pudgy arm, "if there ain't +that dog Stanhope now!" + +Hackley, following the pointing finger, peered over the green silk +curtain out into the darkening street. A young man, tall and rather +thin, in a blue suit and wide gray-felt hat, was walking slowly and with +a slight limp up the cross street, evidently heading for the Palace +Hotel. + +The two men watched him intently, in a moment of perfect silence. Then +the boss, who was not without a certain dramatic sense, said slowly: + +"_Mamie Orrick's old friend_!" + +A baleful light leaped into Hackley's eyes. He broke away from the bar +with a movement that was like a wrench, and started for the door. + +"I'll fix him," he muttered dourly. "Fix him _good_." + +But Ryan, who wanted something much better than that, sprang around the +bar like lightning, and caught Hackley roughly by the shoulder, at the +door. + +"What, here in the square!" he hissed sharply. "With the po-lice in +sight a'most! Why, you fool, it'll mean the pen for you as sure as your +name's Jim Hackley!" + +Hackley paused, his resolution unsettled by the other's superior +knowledge of the law. + +"No, no, Jim--it won't do," went on Ryan with bland decisiveness. "What +you want is the two of them together, hey?--on a nice dark stretch o' +road, and old Orrick and a few good fellows along to help. You ain't the +only one that's got it in for Stanhope, are you? An' you want Maginnis +too, I guess? Come on in the orfice and talk about it over a seegar." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +IN WHICH VARNEY DOES NOT PAY A VISIT, BUT RECEIVES ONE + +Coligny Smith had told the truth. Peter Maginnis had bought the +_Gazette_, and the _Cyprianl's_ troubles, from this source at any rate, +were at an end. + +Varney found the new proprietor at the hotel, completing a hurried +supper, and Peter hailed him with astonishment and delight. All +afternoon he had been bursting with his great news, eager to get word of +it to Varney on the yacht. But there had been no trustworthy messenger +to send; his own time had been rilled to overflowing, with contracts, +bills of sale and deeds; and, besides, his certain knowledge that +everything was all right made it seem a minor matter that Varney should +know it too. + +"But what the deuce," he exclaimed at once, "brings you at this hour to +the Palace Hotel and Restaurant?" + +"I, too," quoted Varney, "have not been idle." + +As they walked back to the _Gazette_ building, where Peter had still +various details to attend to, he gave a terse epitome of his afternoon's +experiences. At the news that he, too, had sought to buy the paper which +was so determinedly on their trail, Peter chuckled and started to speak; +but when he learned in the next sentence that Hammerton had their +secret at his mercy, his face grew suddenly grave. + +"The rub is," he summed up meditatively, "he may take his walking-papers +rather than let go of such a scoop as that. Of course, he knows that the +New York papers would trample each other to death trying to snatch it +away from him. However, we can fix it somehow. We've got to--that's +all." + +"He'll listen to reason, I dare say," said Varney briefly. "What put it +into your head to try to buy the paper, Peter?" + +They sat in the business manager's little office at the rear of the long +counting-room downstairs, where Peter had thoughtfully paused and +snapped on all the lights. At this question an annoyed look settled +instantly on the new owner's open countenance. + +"No brains of mine," he said shortly. "It's a queer thing." + +He paused to light his battered pipe, which he produced ready-filled +from his pocket, and then said abruptly: + +"Remember that old sneak named Higginson I mentioned to you yesterday? +Well, I bagged the idea from him. When I hit town this afternoon the +first thing I heard was that Higginson was going to buy the +_Gazette_--had bought it, some said." + +"_Higginson!_" Varney stared. "What the mischief did he want with the +_Gazette?_" + +"Echo answers. No good to us, you can bet," said Peter grimly. "Gave it +out, I believe, that he was acting for a syndicate of New Yorkers who +expected flush times with the change of administration, and were +rushing to get in on the ground floor. You can believe that if you want +to. To me it sounds too fishy to do even a beginner credit. You could +wake me up in the middle of the night and I could put over a better one +than that. However," he continued, frowning, "to get back to my story. +When I heard what Higginson was up to, it naturally flashed into my mind +that it would be a mighty convenient thing if I owned the _Gazette_ +myself, instead of him. I raced off to Smith on the chance, shot an +offer at him from the door and to my surprise he accepted it--right off +the bat, cool as though the deal were for half a dozen copies of +yesterday's issue--" + +"You got in ahead of Higginson, then?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter. "And that's another queer thing--about +Smith, I mean. Higginson had been in and made him an offer an hour ahead +of me, and the fellow had turned him down flat. Yet I happen to know +that the price I offered was under Higginson's by a pretty good year's +income. Now what d' you think of that?" + +Varney was silent a moment. "Smith wants a new deal all around, I +imagine," he said slowly. "He knew that you would make the _Gazette_ an +honest paper; he didn't know anything of the sort about the other man. +Probably he knew just the contrary. Bully for Smith, I say! But what do +you make of this chap Higginson?" + +"Search me," said Peter, rather impatiently. "He's clearly imported by +Ryan for some definite purpose, but just what his game is beats me. +There'll be more developments, of course. After I'd signed up with Smith +I spent half an hour of valuable time looking for the rascal, but +couldn't find a footprint anywhere. He seems to have a special gift for +appearing and disappearing. If he decides to stay with us, though, he'll +explain himself to me to-morrow, or I'll know the reason why." + +"Well, you've already pulled his teeth, haven't you? This little +purchase of yours knocks the wind out of his sails in any event." + +"I wish I could be sure of that." + +"And, by the way, that reminds me. Of course I'm in on this, you +understand--on what you paid for the _Gazette_." + +"Not on my account," said Peter frankly. "When this town starts booming, +as it will in eight days from date--Higginson had that part of it right, +anyway--the _Gazette's_ going to be the prettiest little property you +ever saw in your life. I saw it first and you will kindly back away off +the grass. By the bye," he went on, "the lunch to-morrow. Hare and his +sister both accepted--two o'clock. You ought to have seen Hare's face +when I told him we owned this little old _Gazette_. Worth the price of +admission alone--he'd been hot as a stove all day about that story this +morning. I asked Mrs. Marne whether Miss Carstairs had happened to say +anything about coming, but she hadn't seen her to-day at all. I guess +there won't be any trouble in that quarter, though, when she gets +through reading the paper's apologies to-morrow." + +"I don't know," said Varney. "I am going to her house to-night to find +out." + +"Why?" said Peter, surprised. "What do you think we bought this paper +for, anyway?" + +"The great trouble is that she may not believe the paper. This is +important, you see. The whole thing hinges on whether or not she is +coming to lunch with us. The only way I can be certain that she is +coming is to have her tell me so." + +Peter jingled his keys. "Of course, we don't want to take chances, +but--" + +"Another thing," said Varney. "She promised to lunch with Stanhope--the +celebrity--not me, you know." + +"H'm," said Peter cogitatively, and added: "I guess you're right. I'm +sure everything's all serene, but it'll do no harm to press a call. +Well! I must fly upstairs for a while and see how things are going." + +"What about the _Daily?_" + +"That's what I've got to do right now--settle the _Daily_ and dictate a +strong _Gazette_ story for to-morrow's issue, stripping the socks off +the Stanhope lie and all that. I've got to show the boys upstairs +exactly how we want the whole thing, handled." + +"Fire away, old top." + +"It's all sketched out in my mind," continued Peter, rising. "Did it at +the hotel over my chuck-steak. I won't be long. You wait here for me, +will you? I've chartered an automobile for a week and I'll run you up to +the Carstairs house and wait outside till you're ready to go back to the +yacht." + +"Why these civilities, my son?" + +"The fact is," said Peter, a little reluctantly, "that story this +morning seems to have pulled open a lot of old sores, just as it was +meant to. Hare's picked up some loose odds and ends of talk about town +to-day. I noticed two men hanging around here as we came in just now who +didn't look right to me. I can't get it out of my head that there's +something in the wind to-night, and Higginson's back of it. Anyway, +there's no use of running needless risks, now that we've practically got +a strangle-hold on the whole proposition." + +Varney glanced at his watch. "Right for you. It's too early to call yet, +anyway. I'll wait." + +"Correct," said Peter at the door. "One last item of news. Stanhope +himself, the real one, is coming to-morrow." + +"Here--to stay?" + +Peter nodded. "The caretaker of his cottage told Hare--told him not to +tell a soul. But I don't believe he'll stay long. The fellow's clearly a +fool as well as a dog." + +"We ought to warn him how things stand here," said Varney, "no matter +what kind of person he is. You and I know that we 've made matters a +good deal worse for him." + +"He's made them a good deal worse for us, also. But I'll see that he's +promptly advised to leave while the leaving's good. Back in an hour at +the farthest." + +Peter tramped off down the passageway, banging the front door behind +him; and Varney was left alone in the little office to attend his +return. At once it came to him that this was exactly what he had been +doing ever since he had been in Hunston,--waiting for Peter. + +"I am the greatest waiter that the human race has yet produced," he +thought, despondently, and dropping down into a chair, stared long at +the shut door. + +What a day it had been!--beginning with cut-and-dried little plans that +seemed sure, running off in the middle into black depths of hopeless +complications, blossoming suddenly into unlooked-for triumph. Yes, +complete triumph at last. The visit that he meant to pay a little later +was merely an added precaution; he felt no doubts as to how matters +would turn out now. To-morrow, the _Gazette_, Peter's paper, would set +him square before all Hunston, and Mary Carstairs, sorry for the wrong +she had done him, would come to the yacht as she had engaged to do. With +the clairvoyance born of his swift revulsion of feeling, he knew that +his victory was already won. Yet he did not feel now as a conqueror +feels. In the loneliness of the tight-shut little office, he confronted +the knowledge that he did not think of Uncle Elbert's daughter as his +enemy, and that it mattered to him that she was to hate him and worse.... + +Suddenly in the entire stillness, he heard a sound close by, and +straightened up sharply. Some one was gently trying the front door. He +felt quite sure of it. He got up quickly and quietly, and hurried down +the passageway to the front; but there was nothing to be seen. + +Outside, the street, from the brilliantly-lighted room, looked inky +black. He stood a moment listening intently. He thought he heard +footsteps not far away, swiftly receding, but he could not be sure. Then +he remembered the men that Peter had seen in the street a little while +before, and understood. + +Somebody was watching him, apparently waiting for a chance. Those whom +Stanhope had wronged had been spurred to square the old account, and the +_Gazette's_ canard had not been undone yet. He yearned to dash after +those retreating footsteps and find out who was the prudent proprietor +of them. But even to stand here was hardly fair to Elbert Carstairs. + +"How can I go sailing to-morrow," he said aloud, musingly, "if I'm laid +up in a hospital, or laid out in the morgue?" + +He went back to his office, shut himself in again; and with the closing +of the door he shut out all thought of the enemies of Ferris Stanhope. +Soon his mind broke away from him, and went galloping off to the morrow. +Great vividness marked the pictures that danced before the eye of his +thought. Now the luncheon, the planned and fought for, was over. They +were there, strung out gayly along deck,--Mrs. Marne, Hare, Peter, Mary +Carstairs, and he. Then, by some deft stratagem, the others were gone +and he was sitting alone by Mary at the rail. The _Cypriani_ was slowly +moving, as though for a ten-minute spin down the river. And then, as she +gathered headway, he turned suddenly to Mary and told her everything: +how he had deceived and tricked her, and how she would not go back to +Hunston that afternoon.... + +It might have been ten minutes that he sat like this. It might have been +half an hour. But after a time he heard, suddenly and distinctly, that +noise at the door again. + +There was the less doubt about it this time, in that the shutting of the +door was now clearly audible, and there followed the distinct sound of +some one moving in the main office. Then the door in the passageway +swung open and footsteps pattered, coming nearer. The light firm steps +drew nearer, halted; and there came a small rap upon his door. + +"Come in," he called loudly, encouragingly. "I'm here, all right. Come +in." + +The door opened, a little slowly, as though not quite certain whether it +was going to open or not, and Mary Carstairs stood upon the threshold, +silhouetted in the sudden frame. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +WHEREIN SEVERAL LARGE DIFFICULTIES ARE SMOOTHED AWAY + +He had sat upright, his hands over his chair-arms, his mind and muscle +tense; but at that unbelievable sight, he fell back in his chair +relaxed, staring and dazed like one who sees a goddess in a vision. + +"Good evening," said this goddess, looking decidedly embarrassed and +remarkably pretty. "I--I am so glad that we've found you." + +"You were looking for _me_?" he said incredulous, utterly mystified; and +the instinct of long training, working on with no guidance from him, +impelled him to rise with a stiff and somewhat belated bow. + +"Yes. And there are two men with me who are anxious to help...." + +Her fragrant presence seemed to fill and transform the dingy office; and +he was at once aware that her manner had lost that cool remoteness which +at their last meeting had set him so far away. + +He pulled himself sharply together, entirely missing the implication in +her speech, and struck abruptly to the one point that mattered. + +"Some one has convinced you since last night that I am not that man." + +"Yes," she answered, looking away from him with faintly heightened +color. "I--I must ask you to forgive me for--last night." + +He bowed stiffly from behind the table. + +"But who--if I may know--persuaded you, where I appeared so--" + +"My mother," she said, simply. "She caught a glimpse of you on the +street yesterday. I did not know of it till to-day--never dreamed that +she knew you. I'm glad," she added hurriedly, resolutely contrite, "of +the chance to--to say this--" + +"It is extraordinarily kind," said Varney. He looked at her steadily, as +far from understanding the mystery of her coming as ever. + +"But I came," she went on at once, as though reading the question in his +eyes, "for quite another reason. We happened to stop just now at poor +Jim Hackley's." + +The name riveted his attention. A quality in her voice had already told +him that something troubled her. + +"At Hackley's?" + +She stood just behind Peter's deserted chair and rested her ungloved +right hand upon it. He noticed, as though it were a matter which was +going to be vital to him later on, that she wore no rings, and that +there was a tiny white spot on the nail of her thumb. + +"Some men are waiting on this dark street somewhere, Mr. Varney," she +began hurriedly, "waiting, I'm afraid, for you to come out--four or +five--I don't know how many. You know--what that means. But oh, it isn't +their fault!--they don't know any better, you see!--" + +The sudden anxiety in her voice cleared his wits and braced him like a +tonic: and so he came front to front with the fact that it was to help +him--to help _him_--that Uncle Elbert's daughter had come to the +_Gazette_ office that night. + +"I appreciate that perfectly, of course. But--the rest is not so clear. +I don't quite understand--how did you happen to learn of this?" + +"I? Oh, my learning about it was the purest chance. It was told me two +minutes ago by a visitor here, a Mr. Higginson, whom I met last night. +He is outside in the car now, and--" + +"Mr. Higginson!" echoed Varney, astounded. + +"You know him, perhaps?" + +"I? Oh, no--no. But I interrupted you. Do go on and tell me--" + +She began to speak rapidly and earnestly: + +"This afternoon I went motoring, I and a friend of mine--Mr. John +Richards. We took a wrong turn coming back, and of course were horribly +late. But at the edge of the square we stopped a minute to inquire about +Mrs. Hackley, who was taken quite ill yesterday afternoon. Just as I was +getting back into the car, up ran this Mr. Higginson, very much +flustered and excited. You see, he had just found out about all +this--this plot--even to knowing where you were; he had seen poor Jim +Hackley, it seems, not at all himself, and overheard him talking. Of +course, we saw that you must be warned at once, so we took him in the +car, and all three of us ran back here." + +She paused a moment, and he prompted her with a close-clipped: "Yes?" + +"I wanted him to--come in and tell you about it," she said +hesitatingly--"but he wouldn't do it. He is a most agreeable old man, +but, I imagine--of a very nervous temperament. So," she added with a +hurried little laugh, "as I was the only one who--knew you, I said that +I would come in and tell you myself." + +"It was most kind--most kind of you all." + +He turned away sharply to hide his sudden rush of indignation and +resentment. Turbulently he longed to get his hands upon the sly +Higginson, who had had the effrontery to dispatch a woman to protect +him, and this woman of all others that lived in Hunston.... Protect +him? Hardly. That an attack had been planned against his person was, +indeed, likely enough, but not that any hireling of Ryan's should rush +forward hysterically to pluck him from his peril. What move in that +mysterious game, what strange plot within a plot was here?... + +"Did Mr. Higginson happen to explain why he took such a generous, and I +fear very troublesome, interest in my welfare?" + +Genuinely anxious for light, he tried to iron all suggestion of a sneer +out of his voice, but evidently he did not quite succeed. + +"Oh, I don't think you ought to speak that way! Surely he has done only +what anybody would do for any stranger who was in danger and didn't know +it." + +"And you?" + +She looked at him rather shyly out of her somewhat spectacular eyes. + +"That explains me, too--if you wish." + +"Maginnis and I," said Varney immediately, "are not going out for some +time yet. Oh, a long, long time! These poor fellows you speak of will +tire of waiting long before that. And when we do go--" + +"You must not go together." + +"I don't think I understand you." + +"Don't you see," she said, speaking very earnestly, "that that is +exactly what they are hoping for? This ambuscade didn't just happen--it +is manufactured--it is politics. Men like these haven't the initiative, +or whatever you call it, to get up a thing of this sort. Some one has +done it for them. Don't you know why? _They want to get rid of Mr. +Maginnis_. But they can't hurt him _alone_--without having it brought +right home to them--to the politicians. With you--it is--different--" + +"Yes, yes--I see. But forgive my asking--did Mr. Higginson explain the +situation to you in just this way?" + +"Mr. Higginson?" she said, plainly surprised at his harking back to +that. "It was not necessary. I understood the situation very well, from +what Mr. Hare has told me. Mr. Higginson simply gave us the facts about +these men hiding out there--there was no time for anything more." + +He was staring at her with unconscious steadiness, and now his face took +on a slow faint smile, which she was very far from understanding. Blurry +as it all still was, light was beginning to break through upon him. Of +course, that was all that Mr. Higginson had told her. Of course. The +last thing desired by that clever rogue, who used petticoats for +stalking-horses and was not above hiding behind them for the safety of +his own skin, was for the engineered "attack" to go off prematurely, +landing only Varney and failing to "get" Maginnis. Warnings that the two +should _not_ go out together from Higginson? Hardly. + +"I understand perfectly. Maginnis is quite safe without me, but not at +all safe with me. You may count upon me absolutely. I'll give him the +slip and leave here alone." + +"You mustn't do anything of the kind," said Mary sharply. + +She looked at him, unsmiling, eye to eye like a man; but she looked from +under a fantastic and exceedingly becoming little hat, swathed all about +with a wholly fascinating gray veil. Her skin was of an exquisite +freshness, which threw into sharp relief the vivid coloring of her lips; +the modeling of her cheek and throat was consummate, beyond improvement; +and her eyes--he told himself that they could have no match anywhere. + +Varney laughed shortly. "I am not to go out with Maginnis. I am not to +go out without him. May I ask if I am expected to spend thnight +prudently curled up under the office table here?" + +The situation was odious to him; he knew that his manner betrayed it; +but if she was aware of this she gave no sign. On the contrary her face +all at once became miraculously sweet. + +"You aren't thinking that there's any question of courage mixed up in +this, Mr. Varney? Indeed, indeed, there is not. They would fight in the +dark; they would fight from behind. The very _bravest_ men would have no +chance, and very brave men don't take foolish risks, do they? I know by +Mr. Hare. Mr. Varney, I have a little plan." + +"Indeed? Do tell me." + +"Our car is at the door, you know--Mr. Richards's car. We'd both like it +very much if you would come with us." + +"Where?" + +"Well--I thought that perhaps you'd come to my house. Only to get rid of +these men and not to--get them into any trouble. Of course, no one in +Hunston would annoy you when you were with me." + +If he had hated the thought of accepting protection from Mary Carstairs +less intensely, he might have laughed aloud. As Higginson's catspaw, she +was certainly the most screaming failure that the whole world could have +yielded. What, oh what, would the old gum-shoe have said if he could +have heard that invitation? + +"Thank you, but that is quite impossible." + +"I am awfully sorry." + +There was a faint stiffening in her manner. She began to draw on her +right glove, slowly tucking out of sight the thumb with the tiny white +spot on the nail. + +"I hoped that perhaps you might come to dinner with us. I haven't had +any yet. May I--suggest another way out of all this, then? There is a +back gate to this place, leading into a kind of alley, you know. I am +sure that they--these poor men--haven't thought of that. Couldn't you +please go out--" + +"Certainly," said Varney. "Certainly. Yes, indeed. I'll do +anything--anything in the wide world to avoid getting thumped on the +head with Mr. Hackley's walking-stick." + +Her face told him that she found his tone and manner somewhat +disconcerting, but she took no notice of it otherwise. + +"I hope it won't be necessary to do anything more than that. But if it +should be, I hope you'll do it. I'm afraid I've failed to make you see +that this is really serious. Good-night." + +But Varney, having a question to ask her, could not let her go yet. + +"But--but," he said, hastily, "you must allow me to thank you--you and +Mr. Higginson--" + +"The thanks are all Mr. Higginson's. I'm only a messenger--and besides, +you aren't grateful at all, you know! You think we've all been +_extremely_ intrusive!" She smiled brightly, bowed, and then was +suddenly checked by a new thought. "Oh--I wonder if you would tell me +something before I go?" + +"By all means," said Varney, having no idea whether he would or not. + +But the loud jangling whir of a telephone bell from the adjoining room +cut into the air, drowning out conversation; and it rang on and on and +on as though Central had had her orders. + +"I suppose I'll have to answer that to shut them up," he said. "Excuse +me for the merest second, won't you?" + +He passed through into the brightly-lit business office beyond, and +found the telephone, still ringing away on a desk at the farther end. +Behind him the door swung shut, a circumstance for which he later had +reason to be glad. + +"Well?" he called impatiently. + +"You, Larry?" asked a familiar voice. + +"Yes. What's the matter?" + +"Matter enough," said Peter in a guarded undertone. "Hammerton's loose." + +"_What_!" + +"It's a fact. God knows how he did it; but he's just phoned in here from +a house a long way down the road. Wanted to let the city editor know he +was flying in with the one best bet of the year. Luckily he gave no +details." + +Varney's lips tightened; he spoke in a low voice. "He mustn't +arrive--not till I've seen him first. Did you find out how he's +coming--river or road?" + +"Trust Uncle Dudley. He's borrowed a bicycle and is burning up the River +road with it." + +"Good. How soon will you be through?" + +"About three minutes." + +"You've hired a motor, you said? Get it and run back here as soon as you +can, will you?" + +He rapidly explained the situation, though making no mention of +Higginson: how somebody had plotted to get them together in the darkness +of Main Street, how Miss Carstairs and her friend had kindly stopped to +warn them, and how he had humored her by promising to take all sorts of +precautions. + +"Right-O," said Peter. "I'll be in the alley at the back in no time. +Come quick when I honk three times." + +Varney came back into the little office where Mary Carstairs waited, +fresh from more cheap plotting in which she was the innocent central +figure; and faced her, uncomfortable, ill at ease, disquieted inwardly +as a conspirator taken red-handed. + +"It was Maginnis--upstairs," he explained awkwardly. + +"Yes?" she said indifferently, and resumed the buttoning of her glove. +"And will you tell me something now? It has been on my mind since last +night." + +"Certainly." + +"Who was it that spoke of me to you and made you think that I was a +little girl?" + +He was entirely taken aback by the question; but he could have parried +it easily, and he knew it. However, he was heartily sick of subterfuge +for that night. + +"It was your father," he said bluntly. + +"My father!" She stood silent a moment, slim hands interlocked before +her, heavily fringed eyes lowered. "So you know them both--my mother and +my father. Then--the mistake--about my age," she added with something of +an effort, "was natural enough. I have not seen my father for many +years." + +"I see him," said he, "constantly. Your father and I are great chums." A +sudden insane hope overwhelmed him, and he went on with a rush: "You +know, or rather probably you don't know, that he and my mother were old +friends; and I am proud to have fallen heir to the friendship. You say +that you have not seen him for some time? He is growing older very fast +this last year or two; he is much changed of late. And then, Miss +Carstairs, he is desperately lonely, all by himself in that great house +of his--" + +"_Stop_!" cried Mary Carstairs, with quick passionateness. "Stop! You +are trying to make me feel sorry for my father." + +"Well," he said, as stormy as she, "_you ought to_! But your friends are +waiting. I must not detain you any longer." + +At the curtness of his speech a very faint wave of color ran up her +cheek; and when he saw this he was sorry and glad in a single breath. At +least, she could not say afterwards that he had ever tried to make +himself falsely civil and lyingly agreeable. "Yes, I have stayed very +much too long already. You've promised that you will be careful, haven't +you? I'm really too sorry," she said, from the door, "that your visit to +Hunston should have been made disagreeable in all these ways." + +"In the name of heaven," he said, stung into momentary recklessness, +"you don't suppose that I came here expecting any _fun_!" + +"Why--I had understood that it was purely a pleasure-trip that brought +you here!" + +He made no answer to this, but stepped forward and swung open the door +for her. + +"Maginnis," he said, "is to call for me immediately in a motor. We +shall leave by the unobtrusive back alley. Two men, a motor, and a dark +rear exit. You will scarcely imagine that there is any danger now. But +may I thank you again for giving us warning when there _was_, perhaps, +some danger?" + +"So you think there is a 'perhaps'? If you take precautions, it is only +to humor a--" + +"I withdraw that 'perhaps,'" he broke out in a rush. "I blot it out, +annihilate it. Who am I to catch at tatters of self-respect? Are you +blind? Can't you see that every fiber of me is tingling with the +knowledge that there was real danger, and that you saved me from it?" + +The quick bitterness in his voice, which there was no missing, was the +last straw, breaking through her reserve, demolishing her dainty +aloofness. She shook the swinging gray veil back out of her eyes and +looked up at him, openly and frankly bewildered, looking very young and +immeasurably alluring. + +"Will you tell me why you speak in that way? Will you tell me why it is +the worst thing that has happened to you in Hunston to have been helped +a little by me?" + +They faced each other at the open door, not an arm's length between +them; and the moment of his reckoning for the quarter of an hour he had +spent with her that night was suddenly upon him. He met her eyes, which +were darkly blue, stared down into them; and as he did so, the spell of +her beauty treacherously closed round him, piping away his self-control, +deadening him to the iron fact of who she was and who he was, shutting +out all knowledge except that of her fragrant nearness. + +"It is absurd," he answered her suddenly, "but to save my life I can't +decide whether you are tall or short." + +The front door came open with a bang; the noise brought him sharply to +himself; and the next moment a pleasant impatient masculine voice called +out: + +"I say, Miss Carstairs! Er--everything all right?" + +"Oh!--yes, Mr. Richards!" she called penitently. "I'm coming this +minute. No, please don't go out with me, Mr. Varney. Don't let anybody +see that you are here." + +"Certainly not," said he, struggling for a poise which he could not +quite recapture. "Then will you be good enough to convey my gratitude to +Mr. Higginson and say that I hope to have the opportunity of thanking +him personally to-morrow?" + +"Yes, of course. Good-night once more--and good luck!" + +But he detained her long enough to put the plain business question which +had been torturing his soul for the last twenty-four hours. + +"We shall see you at luncheon to-morrow?" + +He strove to give his remark the air of a mere commonplace of farewell; +but at it, he saw her look break away from his and the warm color stream +into her face. + +"Why--I--I'll come with pleasure. We don't get the chance to lunch on +yachts every day in Hunston. Oh, but please," she exclaimed, her +embarrassment suddenly melting in a very natural and charming +smile--"never let my mother _dream_ that we've _not been introduced!_" + +He bowed low so that she might not see the burlesque of polite pleasure +on his face. + + * * * * * + +The back alley exit proved all that the most timorous could have +desired. Peter approached it by an elusive detour; Varney appeared +promptly at the sound of his three honks; and the rendezvous was +effected in a black darkness which they seemed to have entirely to +themselves. Not a hand was raised to them, not a threatening figure +sprang up to dispute their going, not a fierce curse cursed them. The +would-be assassins, if such there were, presumably still lurked in some +Main Street cranny, patiently and stupidly waiting, entirely unaware +that they had been neatly outwitted by the clever strategies of Miss +Mary Carstairs. + +The car rolled noiselessly out of the alley, skimmed off through the +southern quarter of the town and bowled into the rough and rutty River +road toward the yacht. Once there, since a sharp lookout for the +reporter was necessary, they slowed down and down until the smooth +little car, with all lights out, crawled along no faster than a vigorous +man will walk. + +"What're you going to do when we catch him?" asked Peter. "Want to haul +him on back to the yacht?" + +"No. I'm--only going to talk to him a little. Go on with the story." + +"Well," resumed Peter, taking one hand from the driving-wheel to remove +a genuine Connecticut Havana, "the first thing was a wire from the +_Daily_ firing Hammerton. That assisted a little, of course. Then, they +asked us to give them a new, good man at once, and meantime to push +along all the story we had. We answered with a wire that was a beauty, +if I do mention it myself, telling them exactly how they'd been sold a +second-hand gold brick by a corrupt paper which was trying to play +politics. It simply knocked the pins from under them. It took 'em quite +a while to come back with inquiries about the name off the yacht, +Varney's air of mystery and all that line of slush. My response was +vigorous, yet gentlemanly, straining the truth for all she'd stand, and +even bu'sting her open here and there, I gravely fear. However, it was a +clincher. It crimped them right. Not a peep have we had from 'em since." + +"I suppose they'll run four lines on the thirteenth page to-morrow +explaining it was all a mistake." + +"But that wasn't the serious part of the thing--not by a mile-walk," +continued Peter, the shine of victory in his honest eyes. "Am I still in +the road? Sing out if you see me taking to the woods, will you? The more +I think of what you and I have missed by a shave, the more I'm likely to +feel sick in the stomach. You know those rascals had already begun +asking for orders all over the country--they were so sure they'd have a +hot story to send out. Not only that, but a lot of papers wired for it +without being asked. It looked as if every newspaper office in America +that had got a glimpse at the _Daily_ this morning instantly got dead +stuck on that story. I stood at the telegraph desk and watched the +accursed things come in, like this: '500 words story involving Stanhope, +Rochester _Tribune_.' 'No. 3.--' That was the number of our story on the +query list.--'No. 3.--Full details, Chicago _Ledger_.' 'No. 3--1000 +words, Philadelphia _Journal_.' And so on and on. It looked uncanny, I +tell you--all those far-away people calling for information about our +affairs just like old friends. Will you kindly let your mind play about +that a minute, Laurence? Will you kindly think of a situation like that +with Ryan and Coligny Smith handling it as their little whimseys +dictated?" + +"I'd rather not. You wired those papers that the story was a canard and +all that, I suppose?" + +"No!" roared Peter, "I did something a whole lot better than that. I had +one of the men write a hot political story about the _Gazette_ and the +change of management and the sudden rise of Reform. There's _news_ in +that, don't you see?--and it was the Stanhope-Varney story, too--the +real one. When I left the office, they were selling it like hot cakes, +all over the country--all over the world--" + +"Hold on!" said Varney, sharply. "Here's Hammerton, I think--bringing in +a whole lot better story than yours!" + +The road here was straight as a string stretched tight. Far down it, +they saw a single small light, dancing towards them a foot or two above +the ground. + +Peter threw off his clutch, clapped on his brakes and stopped short. +Varney slid out of the seat and stood waiting in the black inkiness +beside the unlighted car. In the sudden stillness they could hear the +rattle of the bicycle chain and even the crunch of the hard-blown tires, +spinning rapidly over the road. Now the light was perhaps a hundred +yards away. + +"Blow!" hispered Varney. + +The horn's honk cut the silent air hoarsely. Instantly the speed of the +oncoming light was checked. It advanced steadily, but much more slowly, +as though the rider sensed that his road might be blocked, but could not +yet determine where the hidden obstacle might be. + +"Hello!" called a lusty young voice suddenly. "Who's there?" + +There was no answer. The light came on more slowly still. Now it was +fifty yards away, now twenty, now ten. Varney stepped out of the +blackness, directly in front of it, and seized both handle-bars in +fingers that gripped like a vise. The shock of the sudden stopping all +but cost the rider his seat. + +"May I detain you one moment, please, Mr. Hammerton?" + +The little light of the bicycle lamp was all concentrated downward. +Above that round yellow ray, faces were unrecognizable in the pitchy +blackness. The voice, however, was unmistakable. Hammerton was off the +back of his wheel in the wink of an eye, on a sudden desperate bolt for +the woods. + +Peter, still on the driver's seat, and seeing neither his friend nor his +enemy, saw the light with the bicycle behind it go over with a crash. +That was when Varney's hands let go of the handle-bars. The next instant +they fell upon Hammerton's withdrawing figure and brought it up with a +sharp jerk. + +Peter heard the ensuing struggle, but saw nothing. He paid Varney the +tribute of sitting still in his seat and saying not a word. The contest +was bitter, but brief. Hammerton fought wildly, but Varney's arms +presently closed round him, squeezing the life out of him. Locked fast +in each other's arms, they fell heavily, Hammerton underneath. Varney +freed his legs with a swift wrench, swung round and came up riding upon +the other's chest. + +Charlie Hammerton was beaten and knew it. His body lay along the rocky +road, inert and unresisting. He breathed in convulsive gasps, but apart +from that, now that he was down, he never moved. He was as tired as a +man well could be. Varney sitting closely upon him, holding him fast, +felt that the reporter's clothes were wringing wet. However, he had him, +and the _Cypriani's_ great secret was once more in captivity. + +The eyes of the two men strained into the dark where each other's faces +must be, but they saw nothing. + +"It's all up with you, Hammerton," said Varney presently. "The _Daily_ +fired you an hour ago." + +"Thanks to you," said Hammerton doggedly. "But if you think that lets +_you_ out, you're a bigger fool than I thought." + +"That is not all," said Varney slowly. "The _Gazette_ has fired you, +too." + +The reporter swore bitterly beneath his breath: curiously enough, he +did not seem to question the statement for a moment. "What of it?" he +cried. "You don't think that'll stop my mouth, do you--you _devil_!" + +"There is still something more. Maginnis has bought the _Gazette_. He +and I own the news of this town now. Coligny Smith is fired, too. The +_Gazette_ starts an honest life to-morrow, and the old dirty regime is +over forever." + +"Liar!" cried Hammerton, hoarsely. "Liar!" but there was no conviction +in the mad resentment of his voice. + +"No," said Varney, without anger. "I am telling you the truth and you +know it." + +"Well--there are other papers,--other towns," cried Hammerton +passionately. "What I've got on you will sell anywhere. Why, damn you, +_damn you, damn you_--don't you know you'll have to kill me to hush this +up?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to make +a friend of you. I'm going to make you editor of the _Gazette_ in +Smith's place with double your present salary and an interest in the +paper." + +There was black silence, more thrilling than any speech. + +"Will you take it?" asked Varney. + +Then the boy's overstrained self-command snapped like a bow-string and +his breast shook with sudden hysteria. "Will I take it?" he cried with a +gasping laugh that was rather more like a sob. "Will I take the Court +of St. James? Will I take money from home? Oh, my God, will I take it!" + +"Hooray!" rang Peter's great voice out of the gloom. "Hip, hip, hooray +for Editor Hammerton!" + +Peter's tribute, in reality, was not so much for Hammerton's acceptance +as for the astonishing neatness with which Varney had disposed of the +editorship of _his_ paper. But to Varney, rising limply from Hammerton's +chest at the edge of the dark road, that cheer meant only that he had +kicked the last obstacle out of his path and that he and Mary were going +to New York to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +A LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY ON THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +The expectation appeared thoroughly conservative: not a cloud so large +as a man's hand any longer darkened the horizon. At two o'clock next day +Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ rode gayly at her old anchorage. At the rail +stood Varney and Maginnis, hosts of pleasant and guileless mien, their +eyes upon the trim gig which came dancing over the water toward them. In +the gig sat J. Pinkney Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne, blithely coming +to lunch aboard with their two new friends. + +The yacht's return to Hunston had been in all ways different from her +going. She had slipped away like the hunted thing she was, running to +cover with a hold full of fears, shying at every craft that passed, and +yelled after from the shore by a stoutish young man with inimical +opinions in his eye. She had steamed back, early this morning, not +merely without fear, but proudly, her whistle screaming for the +lime-light, her fore-truck flying, so to say, the burgee of vindication; +and the stoutish and inimical young man had come aboard for breakfast +with his new employer at nine o'clock sharp. Such was the measure of the +whitewashing work accomplished by three columns in Mr. Maginnis's +_Gazette_ that morning. + +Of the "news value" of those astonishing columns, "the author's double" +(as the _Gazette's_ converted reporters felicitously dubbed him) had had +abundant evidence in the many glances that followed him upon the streets +of Hunston that morning. Varney's errand in town had had to do with +Tommy Orrick. Some search was needed to find the transient tenant of +Kerrigan's loft; but when he was finally located the matter of homes in +New York was discussed and settled in the most satisfactory way in the +world. It was decided that Tommy should remove his Penates to the city +that very evening, where he was to be met at Forty-second Street by a +Mr. Horace O'Hara, an interesting personage who had once been a burglar +but was now in the fish and vegetable way at Fulton Market. Together +they would make their way to the Home. Future plans had to do with an +educative course at the graded schools and other matters so strange and +exalted that one could not hear them mentioned without experiencing the +most benumbing abashment. + +The two good friends parted with a handshake, enforced by the young +man--a unique ceremonial which filled the small breast of Thomas with a +conflict of strange emotions; and Varney, having dispatched a telegram +to Mr. O'Hara, and another to Mrs. Marie Duval, who had the home with no +boys in it on 117th Street, had at once turned his face back to the +yacht. He chose the woodland path for his walk, which struck straight +down from the handsome residence street and skirted the river at a +point near the _Cypriani's_ anchorage; and here an incident of interest +befell him. As he sauntered down the path, conscious of a sudden curious +loss of spirits, his attention was caught by the blurred sound of voices +from the street, some fifty yards behind him; and presently the vague +rumble crystallized into something like this: + +"... Infernal absence of livery ... Far ... station-master fellow say +it was, Henry?" + +The voice was masculine, carefully modulated, decidedly elegant. A +different sort of voice gave answer: + +"'E said, sir ... mile, but knowing the hodd way they count distances +away from the cities, sir, I'm 'ardly 'oping to see it under two +mile--hif that." + +Varney idly turned. The woods were thick just ahead of him, cutting off +all view of the street; but further on, to the north, there was a break +in the leafy wall, revealing a small slit of patent cement sidewalk. +Soon, as he watched, two pedestrians stepped into view within this frame +of foliage: a tall immaculate-looking man swinging a trim cane, and +behind him a stocky, middle-sized, black-garbed fellow struggling along +under two suit-cases and a roll of umbrellas. In three steps they had +passed across the little open space and were again lost behind the +trees, their voices running once more into an indistinguishable rumble. + +Varney, halting in the path, had little doubt who the tall man was. It +was Ferris Stanhope, returning to the home of his boyhood and sublimely +unaware of the nature of the reception which awaited him. + +Cordially as Varney loathed the great author, he had no wish to see him +taken by surprise and beaten to a pulp by mob-law. Moreover, if anything +like that happened, he and Peter would be largely responsible, since the +present excitement of feeling had been largely worked up for their +benefit. He had half a mind to go straight after the _insouciant_ +visitor now, unpleasant as it would be to have to speak to him, and give +him the fair warning he was entitled to. But he dismissed the impulse as +plainly overdoing his duty: the man was in no possible danger in broad +daylight, and Peter had already promised that he would attend to the +warning business himself. + +Now, as they stood calmly chatting at the rail under the brilliant sky, +he told Peter of the author's arrival, and dutifully reminded him of +that promise. Peter renewed it, without enthusiasm. His eyes rested on +the approaching gig with a kind of fascination; and Varney followed his +gaze. + +"Isn't Hare dressy, though! Frock-coat and all that ..." + +"Yes ... He'll add a needed touch of elegance to the somber setting of +the drama." + +"By the way," said Varney presently, "how did Hammerton get away last +night? I believe Ferguson's been dodging me all day, but the fact is +I've never given it a thought." + +Peter laughed. + +"He's sharp as a tack, that boy is. He played dead till old Ferguson got +first interested, then nervous, and lastly careless. Lay there two hours +without moving; breathed as little as he could do with, and at long +intervals fluttered one eyelid and took a peep how the land lay. After a +while there came a time when the door was left wide open and only one +deckhand in sight. Hammerton floored him with a chair from behind, and +jumped over the rail. She happened to be moving close inshore at the +time, and he was in the woods before the fatheads even got a boat down." + +Varney echoed his laugh absently. All morning, since his return from +Hunston, he had felt himself enfolded by a mysterious despondency, which +he had seemed unable either to account for or to shake off. But now, as +the final climax of his business drew near to summon him, he felt his +spirits inexplicably rising again. A certain excitement possessed him; +he was glad that at last his hour had come. + +Hardly listening to Peter, he was running over in the most business-like +way the little scheme, mapped out and rehearsed together that morning, +by which the two superfluous guests, the mere "sleepers" in the +orchestra, were to be detached at the proper moment. Yes, certainly; it +was sound and would hold water. So would everything else. Peter's things +had gone ashore two hours before, for he was to remain in Hunston. +Everything had been provided for; the last detail systematically +arranged. A surer scheme and a clearer coast could not possibly have +been contrived or desired. + +"At breakfast," continued Peter, "Hammerton suddenly blurted out that, +while he wasn't crazed with conscientiousness as a rule, one thing had +kept him awake last night. Demanded whether we had the nerve to think +that we had simply bought him off with a job. 'Perish the thought, +Charlie,' said I, looking kind of hurt at the bare suggestion. 'Thank +you, Maginnis,' said he, dignified as the President. 'It's an honest +fact that I gave up the chase because I felt all along that you two +fellows couldn't possibly be mixed up in anything underhanded.' Aha! +thinks me to myself ... Eh, Laurence?" + +"Just exactly." + +"Well, cheer up. It's done every day by our best families. And speaking +of doing underhanded things," said Peter, "our guests approach rapidly. +Up, guards, and at them!" + +He took off his terrible Panama and waved it in a friendly manner. + +"How-de-do, Mrs. Marne! Morning, candidate! Welcome aboard." + +The sister and brother came up the stair, and were cordially greeted by +their hosts. + +"Ashore again!" ordered Varney over the side. "There is another guest." + +"So we have not kept you waiting after all," cried Mrs. Marne, flashing +a triumphant eye upon her brother. "Mary is not here yet--the prinker!" + +She was dark, vivacious for a chaperon, easily on the correct side of +thirty, and arrayed in very light mourning indeed. She had a will: for +it was she who had baited J. Pinkney Hare with sociology and politics to +abandon the law in New York, at which he was doing rather well, and +follow her to Hunston. This was when her husband, a member of Hunston's +oldest family--for there was aristocracy in the town--had left her +widowed the year of their marriage. + +"Three times," Hare elucidated to Varney, "did she tell me, 'I'll be +ready in a minute.' And a ten-minute interval elapsed each time, by my +grandfather's trusted chronometer." + +"Oh, well," said Varney, "who'd put any trust in a woman who was ready +when she said she'd be? Let's get into the shade." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, sister-wise, as she turned with Varney, "gets +his ideas about women from the comic weeklies." + +They sauntered aft, Peter and Hare in the rear. + +"Committee meeting at five-thirty?" + +"Precisely. And by the bye," began Hare.... + +The candidate, in his tiny frock coat, with pale gray spats and scarf to +match, looked overdressed in the brilliant sunshine. Yet probably Peter, +whose purple tie blossomed too gorgeously above a blue silk "fancy vest" +of a cut a good deal affected in the early nineties, looked the more +striking of the two. + +"He's a fool," declared Peter presently. "The chances are that Ryan has +a barrel of votes salted down where we'll have the devil's own time +tapping them. You can't smoke out a skunk in a minute, I tell you." + +Mrs. Marne, in a cushioned chair, was being markedly agreeable to her +host. + +"It's my _debut_ on a yacht," she was rattling away. "Is there any +special etiquette? Coach me from time to time when you see me fumbling, +won't you? And if there _is_ a code, there is one thing that I move +shall go into it, here and now. Politics is--or are--_barred_ for the +day! Will you make it a rule that whoever mentions it--or them--forfeits +butter, Mr. Varney?" + +Varney laughed. "A rank outsider myself," said he, "I'm absolutely +willing. But I fear that in a division the nays would have it." + +"You and I," she said, "against Mr. Maginnis and Pinky. A tie. Mary +would have the deciding vote." + +"Then you'd lose out," said her brother, whose social manner, it was +developing, differed somewhat from that of his official moments. + +"I know women," said Mrs. Marne. "I could lobby Mary over in exactly two +minutes, Mr. Varney. Besides, she is absent at roll-call, you know." + +"The point is well taken," said Varney, to whom the thought was anything +but a novelty. + +"There she is now," said Peter over their shoulders. + +Varney turned and looked ashore at the point where the gig was patiently +waiting. There was no sign of anybody there. + +"Upstream," added Peter, and the sudden honk of a motor-horn punctuated +the observation like a full stop. + +Two hundred yards above them, a narrow driveway circled down to the +river to an ancient boat-house, and here the gaze of the little party +turned. Where the road curved at the water's edge, there stood a great +white touring-car, shining in the sun like a new pin. Upon the driver's +seat sat a bare-headed young man with a brown face and light sunburned +hair, brushed back. On the farther side of him, gloved hand holding to +the seat back, stood a young girl in a blue linen dress and a rather +conspicuously large hat, also of blue. Both of them were looking off +toward the _Cypriani_. Now the horn tooted again in salutation; and the +girl, catching their eyes, waved her hand and smiled, making a little +gesture indicative of her lack of equipment to navigate the intervening +stretch of water. + +Mrs. Marne answered the salute in kind. Reassuring gesticulations were +duly wafted ashore. + +"Who's the new swain, Pinky?" demanded Mrs. Marne thoughtfully. + +Pinky did not know. The sailing-master, at a word from Varney, hurled an +order to the gig ashore. Then he swept his megaphone upstream, pointing +it straight at the motor: + +"The gig is on the way to you now, Miss." + +"That's an awfully sweet hat she's wearing," said Mrs. Marne. "I wonder +where she found that shape." + +Miss Carstairs nodded her thanks to the sailing-master. The bare-headed +young man sprang down, assisted her to descend, waited with her at the +water's edge, assisted her most thoroughly into the _Cypriani's_ gig. He +was a handsome boy. He stood on the shore looking after the departing +boat, laughing and calling out something. + +"We wanted to have luncheon on deck," said Varney, abruptly, to Mrs. +Marne, "as the day is so uncommonly fine. But about noon there came up a +little cloud no larger than a man's hand--it took a telescope to see +it--and the steward, a pronounced conservative, begged us not to trifle +with our luck. It seems too bad to go indoors on such a glorious day." + +"But if we were to stay outdoors," she laughed, "would it have been such +a glorious day? These are the questions that make cynics of us all. I am +unhappy, Mr. Varney, because I have to fly the moment luncheon is over. +The Married Women's Culture Club meets at four o'clock. Only fancy!--I +am to read a paper on Immanuel Kant." + +Peter, who had known no women in his life and was oppressed with the +thought that Hare's sister was his personal responsibility for the day, +was strolling moodily about the deck, hands thrust deep in his trousers +pocket. Hare hung at the rail, his neat glasses turned upstream. + +The gig came alongside and Miss Carstairs mounted the steps, the party +gathered at the head of them to meet her. Peter, as it chanced, greeted +her first. He had been introduced to her, in passing, the night of the +meeting, but now he was dimly conscious that he had rather +underestimated her appearance. + +"I am dreadfully sorry to be late," she said. "We went for the shortest +little drive, and all at once it was two o'clock and we were three miles +away." + +"You must have done something to the speed-limit, madam," said Peter in +his stiffest manner, "for you are in ample time." + +"How do you do, Mr. Hare?" + +"Excellently well, thank you, Mary. It is supererogatory to ask you." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, "have that word and I met? I don't seem to +recognize it." + +"Good-morning, Mr. Varney." Mary offered him her hand; but, greeting +her, he had turned to pull a chair out of her way, and so missed seeing +it. + +"It is a great pleasure to welcome you aboard the yacht, Miss +Carstairs." + +"If I seem at all addicted to melancholia to-day," said Mary, "you won't +be surprised, will you? My mother isn't well--really! When I left her an +hour ago, you might have supposed that we were parting for a year. And +then, besides I had an omen--a mysterious warning...." + +Varney's gaze became fixed. "A warning?" + +She laughed. "A rather queer and scary one! I'll tell you presently." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Marne, when Varney had turned to explain the +working of the boat-falls to Hare, "_who_ is he? He is simply +cunning!" + +Mary laughed. Hare, who was listening to boat matters with one ear only, +thought it was rather a conscious laugh. + +"Only John Richards. He came up in his car yesterday to spend a day with +us. How do you like my hat?" + +"It's a love," said Mrs. Marne. "A great big love." + +"I trimmed it myself. You recognize the feather, of course?" + +They went down to luncheon. The ladies cried out with pleasure at the +prettiness of the little saloon. + +The room was darkened, through half-drawn shades, to a pleasant +dimness. The table was round, red, and bare. It was a splendid mass of +flowers. In the center was a great blossoming thing in a silver +basket-frame, so large and high that when they were seated, Hare, who +was neither, could just see Mary over the top of it. About it were four +tall vases of cut roses, two of white, two of red. Button-holes in white +and red lay at three covers, gigantic American Beauties, red, with +flowing white ribbons, at two. And napery, silver, iridescent glass, all +the materialities, were well worthy of so pretty a floral setting. + +In short, it was a most alluring bait that Uncle Elbert's yacht had +flung out for Uncle Elbert's daughter. + +"These roses," said Mary, raising hers to her lips, "were never grown in +Hunston." + +"I want to explain a rule that Mr. Varney and I adopted just now, Mr. +Maginnis," said Mrs. Marne. "Did you hear it? It concerns the two +subjects of butter and politics." + +Hare lifted a glass of the _Cypriani's_ excellent sherry and caught his +host's eye. "Mr. Varney! By a pleasant coincidence, we happen to be +gathered here within a day or two of the birthday of one member of our +charming party. The little discrepancy of date is immaterial--am I +right? Why may I not propose the health and great happiness of Miss +Carstairs?" + +"Standing!" cried Mrs. Marne, pushing back her chair. "Bravo!" + +They stood, glasses raised, turned toward Miss Carstairs, bowing, +saluting her according to their several kinds; and she sat, looking up +at them, laughing, flushed, prettily pleased by the little rite. For +Varney, conscious of the mockery of his felicitations, there had been no +escape. But Hare, who noticed everything, observed that he did not touch +his glass to his lips. + +The luncheon progressed merrily. It was evident from the beginning that +it was to be a pronounced success. Only Peter was stiff and bored; and +even he grew somewhat enlivened before the ceremonies ended. There was +Scotch and soda for the gentlemen, and he did not spurn it when the +decanters passed. Varney, whose want of appetite pained McTosh, was a +conversational tower of strength. But his talk was false-faced talk, his +mirth was lying mirth, his smile a painted smile. Uncle Elbert's +daughter sat at his left, as befitted a guest of honor. Her eyes, when +she looked at him, were kind and friendly, but it early became his habit +not to meet them; for he always saw behind that--saw them changed as he +was destined to see them within the hour.... + +"So you're quite alive and well to-day!" she said to him presently. +"Will you believe that I picked up the _Gazette_ this morning with fear +and trembling?" + +"Oh--thank you--yes! We eluded Mr. Hackley's well-meant attentions with +marvelous dexterity and success." + +"Ah, you still don't take it seriously, I see. I'm going to make one +more effort to frighten you to-day--but I'm afraid you are one of these +terribly reckless people who think being safe is too tame to be +interesting. What do you think of our poor little city, Mr. Varney?" + +"I? I assure you," he said, turning a gay face toward her, "I think it +positively the most exciting town I ever saw in my life. But then, of +course, I 've had unusual privileges. What is much more important--what +do you think of it?" + +"Of course, I love it. My mother went here to boarding school a great, +great many years ago. No, not that--some years ago. She fell in love +with the place on account of the scenery, and the air, which she says is +fresher than you can get in other places. Personally, I believe that the +same quality can be had elsewhere, but she says not at all. So when +we--left New York, nothing would do for her but to come straight here." + +"But don't you find it a little dull?" + +"Dull! Why," she cried, after a moment, "you talk exactly the way she +does." + +"May I offer you an olive?" + +She took it daintily in her fingers, bit it and resumed: "I suppose your +metropolitan idea is that a person would be buried alive in Hunston?" + +A sunny shaft broke in from without and became entangled with her hair, +which was in some ways so curiously like it. McTosh, whose eye was +everywhere, promptly lowered a shade two inches--the one blunder he made +that day. + +"Isn't it?" + +"That would depend altogether on the person." + +"Me." + +"I do think so, decidedly." + +"Really you and my mother would be very congenial." + +"McTosh, the bread," said Peter's cool voice. + +Mrs. Marne, who had been interested by Peter's taciturnity and +fascinated by his waistcoat, had been leading that ordinarily masterful +man something of a conversational dance. Detached for the moment by his +demand for provender, she called across the table: "Mary, I herewith +invite you to attend the Culture Club meeting at four o'clock this +afternoon, to lead the applause for my paper on Immanuel Kant. Pinky +wrote it and--" + +"Before any court in the land," said Hare, lifting his glance above +squab _en casserole_, "I am prepared to establish my innocence of this +charge." + +"If he positively will not take no for an answer," continued Mrs. Marne, +"you may bring John Richards along. No claret, thank you, Mr. Maginnis. +Men, it is true, are not admitted to the sacred mysteries, but I will +arrange to have him seated on the piazza where he may eavesdrop the +whole thing through the long French window." + +"Unfortunately," said Mary, "he has to go to Albany this afternoon, I +believe." + +"To resume our conversation, Mrs. Marne," said Peter. + +"I shouldn't if I were you," Hare recommended. "If memory serves, it was +hardly worth it. Why not, instead, permit me to tell the story of the +seven fat men of Kilgore?" + +McTosh, of the gum-shoe tread, shuffled courses dextrously. An +under-steward assisted in the presentation of the viands, another +manipulated dishes in the hidden precincts of the pantry. The service +was swift and noiseless, but not more so than the passage of time. The +hands of the little clock fastened against the forward bulkhead already +stood at quarter after three. + +Mary's eyes, which had been resting on the candidate, turned back to +Varney, and they were shining. "Seriously, Mr. Varney," she said in a +lowered voice--"how could any one possibly be buried in a town where +Mr. Hare is?" + +"Mr. Hare?" + +She nodded. "Because he is so _alive_! Why just to live in the same town +with him is an inspiration. To be friends with him--well, that is all +you ever need to keep from feeling buried alive! He isn't listening, is +he?" + +"No," said Varney, "he is, I believe, telling the story of the seven fat +men of Kilgore." + +"If you wish to hand bouquets to Pinky for a while," called Mrs. Marne, +aside, "I will see that you are not disturbed, Mary." + +"Thank you, Elsie, but it's your sisterly duty to listen to the story. +Mr. Hare," she presently went on, to Varney, "had a great career ahead +of him in New York--Judge Prentiss told me so--and he kicked it over +without a quiver and came up here where there isn't any glitter or +fireworks, but only plain hard work. Politics is only an incident with +him. No one will ever understand all that he has done for Hunston, +without any thought of return--working with all his heart and his head +and his hands." + +"Ha! Ha!" said Peter down the table. "That reminds me--" + +"You have known him a long time, I suppose?" asked Varney. + +"Yes," she laughed, "but he has known me longer--ever since I was a +very little girl. That is why he calls me by my name, which gives him a +great moral advantage. I call him Mister because I didn't know him when +he was a very little boy. I have figured it all out, and I couldn't +have, because he was thirteen when I was born. Besides, you can't begin +to know people till you have reached a certain age. Can you?" + +"Not to say know, I should think." + +"Say six," said Miss Carstairs. "That's liberal, I think. Well, he was +nineteen _then_, and I never even saw him till seven years afterwards, +anyway. That made him twenty-six, which was much too late. Now he says +that I should call him by his name, but of course I'm not going to do +it." + +"It is hard to change an old habit in a thing like that." + +"Oh, I don't mind the hardness of it. But whoever heard of calling a +Mayor by his first name? Call a Mayor Pinky! The thought is ridiculous. +Isn't it, Mr. Hare?" + +But Hare was engrossed with a conversation of his own, now turned upon +economic lines. + +"Everything in the world that goes up must come down," he was saying +didactically, "except prices. They alone defy the laws of gravity." + +Peter challenged the aphorism, wordily. Mrs. Marne smiled at Mary across +the flower-sweet table. + +"No," answered Hare presently. "Money isn't everything, but it is most. +It makes the mare go; also the nightmare. It talks, it shouts, and in +the only language that needs no interpreter. I may describe it, without +fear of contradiction, as the Esperanto of commerce." + +"Clever, Pinky!" called his sister, derisively. "Confess that you +rehearsed this before a mirror." + +The luncheon ended. If anything had been wanting to prove how agreeable +it had been, it appeared now in the pretty reluctance with which the +ladies rose. There was the customary pushing back of chairs, smoothing +down of garments, recovering of handkerchiefs from beneath the board. +The room and the table were the objects of new compliments, given in +farewell. + +"Who would have dreamed," said Mary, looking back from the door at her +father's perfectly appointed room, "that yachts were as nice as this?" + +"And to think," said Mrs. Marne, "that it was all done by a Mere Man." + +McTosh, the mere man in question, blushed violently behind his deft +hand. + +They stepped up on deck into the shade of a great striped awning, and +loitered along the side, caught by the beauty of the late summer scene. +Sky and water and green wood blended into practised perfectness. The +rippling water was blue as the heavens, which was very blue indeed. The +sun kissed it like a lover. + +"Will some one kindly tell me," demanded Hare, referring to his sister's +remark, "how the superstition arose that men have no taste?" + +"I have read," said Mary idly, her back against the rail, "that it was +invented by the authority who started the slander about women's having +no sense of humor." + +"Why, they haven't, have they?" + +"You're wrong there, Hare," said Peter, out of his fathomless ignorance. +"For my part I think that women are often more amusing than men." + +"Of course, Maginnis, of course. The point is that it never dawns on +them." + +They were strung out along the after deck, a gay and friendly company, +exactly as Varney had pictured them in his thoughts. From the hatch +emerged the stewards, in stately processional, bearing coffee and +cigars, their paraphernalia and appurtenances. Twenty feet away, on the +other side, was to be seen the sailing-master's wife, sitting under +orders, sedate, matronly, knitting a pale blue shawl and giving to the +bright scene an air of indescribable domesticity. + +"Women," said Mrs. Marne to Varney, "have a splendid sense of humor. I +am a woman and I know. True, we keep a tight grip on our wit when we are +with men, because, whatever men may say in moments like these, they do +loathe and despise a comical woman. But when we are alone together--ah, +dearie me, what funny things we do say! Don't we, Mary?" + +Varney, to show himself how cool he was, was lighting a cigarette, and +had just perceived with annoyance that his hand shook. + +"At least," he answered easily, "no man will ever disprove that, since +no man has ever had the pleasure of being present when women are alone +together. I can recommend the Invincibles, Hare." + +Peter, as one sensitive to the duties of host, now begged Mrs. Marne to +let him show her something of the yacht. He mentioned the crew's +quarters and the--er--butler's pantry as points which he particularly +desired to bring to her attention. + +"I'd _love_ to see them! Oh--I must take just one peep before I fly." + +The trio started forward in a whirl of her animated talk, Peter leading +with a dutiful face, Hare strutting solemnly along in the rear. Mary +glanced at Varney. + +"Aren't you going to show me your butler's pantry, too?" + +"Rather!" he said, starting with her up the deck. "But I want you to see +the whole ship, you know, much more thoroughly than Mrs. Marne has time +for--and to take a little spin--" + +He was interrupted by an exaggerated cry from the lady last mentioned, +who, happening to glance down at her watch, had stopped short at the +cabin-hatch in great dismay. + +Now she turned back to Varney crying: "Oh! oh! Mr. Varney, it's _twenty +minutes to four_! I must fly to my Culture _this instant_!" + +At that, for Varney, the little party lost the last traces of its false +good-fellowship and stood out for what it was. Mrs. Marne's hurried +departure slightly dislocated his carefully-laid plans; it was evident +that her brother had no intention of going with her. Over her +unconscious head, his eye caught Peter's in a faint sweep which +indicated the little candidate. + +"Oh--must you, Mrs. Marne?" said Varney, with civil regret. + +"I _must_! I wish--oh, how I wish!--that culture had never been +invented. The world lasted a long time without it, I'm sure. I detest to +eat and run, yet what else can possibly be done by the author of +'_Ideals of Immanuel Kant_'?" + +"It is too bad," said Varney, "but if duty really calls, I suppose there +is nothing for it but to have your boat ready at once." + +"I ought to go, too," said Mary. + +A chorus of protests annihilated the thought. Mrs. Marne declared that +she would never, no, never, forgive herself if she broke up so +delightful a party. It was unanimously decided that the other guests +were to remain long enough to be shown something of the yacht. Mention +of a little spin down the river was once more casually thrown out. + +Events moved swiftly. The gig was manned, waiting. Varney under cover of +issuing orders, found opportunity to say a hurried word to Peter. Mrs. +Marne approached Mary, who was discussing yachts with Hare, to make +adieu. Suddenly the large face of Maginnis loomed over her shoulder. + +"Good-bye, Miss Carstairs--you'll excuse me, won't you?" said he, +briefly. "I--I thought perhaps I'd just walk in with Mrs. Marne." + +Mary repressed an inclination to smile. "Certainly, Mr. Maginnis. +Good-bye. I've enjoyed it a great, great deal." And to Pinkney Hare she +added: "You are going over the yacht with us, of course?" + +Mrs. Marne embarked in a shower of farewells. Peter, however, loitered +at the head of the stairs, and the gig waited at the foot of them. +Varney stood at Miss Carstairs's elbow, cool, smiling, controlling the +situation with entire and easy mastery. + +"It occurs to me, Miss Carstairs," he said, "that I should begin our +tour by showing you our sailing-master's wife, Mrs. Ferguson--decidedly +the cultured member of the ship's household. She reads Shakespeare. She +recites Browning. I dare say that she even sings a little Tennyson. You +would enjoy meeting her, I am sure. Will you step around the other side +for a moment?" + +"How exceedingly interesting," murmured Hare, falling in beside them. +"Years ago, I used to read quite a bit of poetry myself." + +The gig still waited at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Marne, waving +upward last adieus to Mary and Varney, called: "Do hurry, Mr. Maginnis. +I'm outrageously late." + +But Peter, who had more important matters than Kant on his mind at that +moment, answered in a low, hurried voice: "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. +Marne--but I _must_ see your brother at once about--a critical matter. +Oh, I say, Hare." + +The candidate, now some distance up the deck with the others, stopped +and looked back. + +"May I have a word with you, please?" + +Hare turned, with only a polite show of reluctance to his host and Miss +Carstairs, and drew near. Politics interested him far more than the +staunchest ship that ever sailed. + +Five minutes later when Varney, having launched Miss Carstairs and the +sailing-master's wife upon a strictly innocuous conversation, came +around the deck-house again, neither the candidate nor his sister was +anywhere to be seen. Peter--he who had engaged to accompany the +lady--stood alone on the sunny deck, staring off at the returning gig, +his great hands clenched in his coat-pockets. He met his friend with a +calm face. + +"It's all over but the shouting," he said. "They've just landed. I told +Hare that there was a plot on against your life--which is very likely +true by the way--said he and I must have a conference at once without +alarming Miss Carstairs. I had to draw it pretty strong, you can bet, to +make him go without telling her good-bye." + +"You've got the letters," said Varney hurriedly. "Go to see Mrs. +Carstairs the first thing--make the explanations. Call up Uncle Elbert +and tell him six-thirty for the carriage at the dock. Be sure to explain +to Hare and Mrs. Marne at once--prearranged visit to her father, kept +quiet for--any good reason." + +"Of course," said Peter. "Well, I must hurry along. I promised to +overtake them in the woods. Oh, the lies I've told in this ten minutes!" + +He turned and picked up his hat and cane to go. + +To Varney, the simple act drove home with great force the stark fact +that he was face to face with his business at last. Peter, holding out +his hand to say good-bye, was struck to speculation by the look of that +eye. + +"Well, good luck, Larry!" + +"In heaven's name--what does that mean?" + +"Hanged if I know," said Peter, frankly. "I'll see you in New York--if +not sooner." With which cryptic observation he clattered down the stairs +to the gig. + +Varney beckoned the sailing-master from the quarter-deck. + +"I am returning to New York, as I told you, Ferguson, with the young +lady, Mr. Carstairs's daughter. Start as soon as possible." + +The sailing-master stared at the deck. "Ready at once, sir." + +Mrs. Ferguson's fondness for classical poetry was no part of any stage +make-believe. Varney, having found her the day before sitting on a coil +of rope with Mr. Pope's _Odyssey_ from the ship's library, had conceived +a veneration for her taste. Now, as he drew near them again, she was +telling Mary that though Tennyson was fine for the purty language, it +was really Browning who understood the human heart. And down in the +engine room they had everything ready for the bell. + +"Have you two settled the poets' hash yet?" asked Varney. "I hope you +didn't make the mistake of preferring Tennyson to Browning, Miss +Carstairs? Thank you very much for entertaining our guest so nicely, +Mrs. Ferguson." + +"What a wonder that woman is!" said Mary, looking back at her as they +walked away. "I had thought that I was rather good at liking poetry, but +she leaves me feeling like the dunce at the kindergarten." + +She turned and looked out over the water, caught anew by the shining +landscape. They stood side by side in the shade of the wide low awning. +Half a mile to their left huddled the town, whither the others were +already on their way; a few hundred yards behind them stood the big +white Carstairs house, handsomely cresting the hill. From many miles to +the northward a breeze danced down the river, and played capriciously +over their faces, and so whisked on about its business. All the world +looked smiling and very good. + +Suddenly a bell tinkled. There was a slight splash, a faint rumble and +quiver. + +Varney laughed. "The passion for poetry," said he, "is a curious and +complex thing. Its origin is shrouded in the earliest dawn of +civilization. It appears in man's first instinctive gropings toward +written self-expression--" + +"Why," said Mary, in sudden surprise, "_we are going!"_ + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +CAPTIVATING MARY + +So Elbert Carstairs's dream had come true, and his daughter was going +home to him at his desire. She stood on his yacht, as truly a prisoner +as though she wore a ball and chain; and the beat of the engines, +already gathering speed, was driving her straight toward that dock in +Harlem whither he, within a very short time, would be driving down to +meet her. + +"Going? Of course we are," said Varney. + +He leaned against the rail and, looking at Mary, almost laughed at the +thought of how easy and simple it was. + +"The point of being on a yacht, Miss Carstairs, is to see her go. +Otherwise, one might as well sit in the den at home and look at pictures +of them in the encyclopedia." + +"But I--didn't expect to go," she said, gazing at him doubtfully--"only +to look around a little. I'm really afraid I haven't time for a sail." + +"Well, you know," he said cheerfully, "as far as looking around is +concerned, going doesn't necessarily take any longer than staying. In +one case, you stay and look around: in the other you go and look around. +That is really all the difference, isn't it?" + +"Well, then, it must be a little go and a short look around. Where does +one begin, in looking around a yacht?" + +It would have been plain to a far duller plotter that they should be +fully clear of Hunston before he explained the situation to her more +definitely. + +"Suppose," said Varney, "we begin with a few general remarks of a +descriptive nature. This vessel, Miss Carstairs, is what is known as a +schooner-rigged steam-yacht. She stands a good bit under a hundred tons. +She is ninety feet long, eighteen feet in the beam and she draws ten +feet--" + +"I don't understand a word of that except ninety feet long, but it all +has a perfectly splendid sound! But where can Mr. Hare be? Please send +for him like a good host, and begin back at the beginning again. He just +told me that yachts interested him intensely." + +"But, unfortunately, Mr. Hare is no longer with us." + +"Not with us? Why--did he _get off_?" + +"He certainly did. He and Maginnis are a great pair, aren't they? Not a +minute to give to pleasure or anything of that sort. I believe they +slipped off to Hare's house for another of their eternal private talks." + +"But--" Mary stared astoundedly. "He _said_ he was going around with us! +I asked him and he accepted. And besides," she went on, rolling up the +count against the unhappy candidate, "he's got my parasol!" + +"We detached that from him before he left. It's around on the other +side. I'll send for it at once." + +But her puzzled frown lingered. "I have known Mr. Hare well for six +years," she said, "and this is the first time I ever knew him to do such +an uncivil thing." + +"It wasn't his fault, depend upon it. Maginnis called him back, you +know, and no doubt hauled him off bodily, positively refusing to let him +pause for good-byes. A man of ruthless determination, is Maginnis." + +She glanced up the deck with vague uneasiness, disquieted by the +unexpected situation. Forty feet away sat the sailing-master's wife +still placidly knitting at her pale blue shawl, the perfect portrait of +secure propriety. The sight of her there was somehow reassuring. + +"So is Mr. Hare, I always believed. But never mind. How fast we are +going already!" + +"Yes, the _C_--this yacht goes fast." + +"What is considered fast for a yacht? How long would it take us to get +to New York?" + +"Three hours. Why not go?" + +A white-clad steward noiselessly approached with her parasol. She took +it and smiled at Varney's idle pleasantry. + +"Thank you, I have too many responsibilities this afternoon. First of +all, we--have a guest at home. Then I simply must go to Mrs. Thurston's +to see about some sewing at five. Last obstacle of all--my mamma! What +would she think had happened?" + +"Don't you suppose that she would guess?" + +"Do you think I'm the daughter of a clairvoyant, Mr. Varney? No, she +would not guess. She would simply stand at the front window in a Sister +Ann position all the afternoon, crying her pretty, eyes red. But--this +is a schooner-something steam-yacht, ninety feet long, I believe you +said. What comes after that?" + +They had left the town dock behind and were scudding swiftly. There was +no longer any reason, even any pretext, for waiting. Every pulse of the +_Cypriani's_ machinery was beating into his brain: "Tell her now! Tell +her now!" + +But all at once he found it very hard to speak. + +"There is time enough for that. There is something that I must tell you +first--in fairness to Hare. The fact is that I--I made Peter take him +away because I wanted to be alone with you." + +The crude speech plainly embarrassed her; she became suddenly engrossed +in examining the carved handle of her parasol, as though never in her +life had she seen it before. + +Varney turned abruptly from her and looked out at the flying shore. + +"Last night," said he, "you may remember that you asked me a question. +You asked me why I objected to accepting help from you." + +"Yes, but that was last night," she interrupted, her instinct instantly +warning her away from the topic--"and you didn't tell me, you know! +Really--we must turn around in two minutes, and so I haven't time to +talk about a thing but yachts." + +"I fear that you must find time." + +"Must, Mr. Varney?" + +"Must. This is a matter in which you are directly concerned." + +She faced him in frank wonderment. "Why, what on earth can you mean?" + +"Now you must! Now you must!" sang the _Cypriani's_ staunch little +engines. + +But he made the mistake of looking at her, and this move betrayed him. +There was no doubt of him in her upturned, perplexed face, no shadow of +distrust to give him strength. His earlier dread of this moment, +strangely faded for a while, closed in on him once more with deadly +force. + +"Don't you see that I am trying to tell you and that I am finding +it--hard?" he said quietly. + +There was a moment's silence; then she said hurriedly: "Of course I am +all in the dark as to what you--are talking about--but tell me another +time, won't you? Not now, please. And oh--meantime," she sped on, with +the air of hailing a new topic with acclaim, "I have something to tell +you, Mr. Varney!--mystery seems to be in the air to-day. You _must_ +hear the strange thing that happened to me this morning. I haven't had a +chance to tell you before." + +"Ah, yes! That mysterious warning." + +He clutched at the respite like a drowning man at straws, though no +drowning man would have felt his sudden rush of self-contempt. + +"Who gave it to you, and what was it about?" + +Free of his hidden restraints, she had quite thrown off the +embarrassment which she had felt settling down upon her a moment +before, and laughed lightly and naturally. + +"It was about coming to this beautiful luncheon to-day--about _not_ +coming, I mean--and it was given to me--don't be angry--by Mr. +Higginson, the old man, you know, who helped you last night." + +"Ah!... Mr. Higginson." + +"Tell me!" she said impulsively, her eyes upon his face--"I saw last +night that you distrusted him--_do_ you know anything about him?" + +With an obvious effort he wrenched his thought from his present urgency, +and brought it to focus upon a puzzle which now seemed oddly like an +echo from a distant past. + +"Not yet," he said, with an impassive face. "But I trust--" + +"Oh, I don't like the way you say that! I don't see how you _can_ be so +suspicious of such a patently well-meaning old dear. And yet--" + +"Well, then, tell me what he said to you and convert me." + +"I suppose I must--I have had it on my mind a little, and you have a +right to know. Yet I don't want to at all! For I must say it seems just +a little to--to support your view. Well, then," she said, some +perplexity showing beneath her smile, "it happened about eleven o'clock +this morning as I was going down the street to see Elsie Marne--never +dreaming of mysteries. I met Mr. Higginson walking towards our house, +and we stopped, so I thought, for a friendly word. For he and I made +friends last night. Oh, you have a right to think I am too free, too +easy, in the way I--I make friends with strangers, and yet really +this--is not like me at all. And there is something very winning about +this old man. Well, he asked me point-blank--begged me--not to come to +your lunch-party to-day. What have you to say to that?" + +He continued to look at her as from a distance, not answering her little +laugh. Behind the grave mask of his face he cursed himself heartily for +his self-absorption of the morning, which had led him entirely to lose +sight of Mr. Higginson's activities last night. He had fully meant to +search out that "winning" old man on his excursion to the town, but in +his engrossment over the more important duty of the day, the matter had +dropped completely from his mind. That the old spy had somehow ferreted +out their secret was now too plain to admit a doubt. But what +conceivable use did he mean to make of it? To interfere with the +_Cypriani's_ homegoing was beyond his power now. Did it better suit his +mysterious purpose to hold back until the thing was done, in order to +raise the dogs of scandal afterwards?... + +For the moment his mind attacked the problem with curiously little +spirit; but one thing at least was instantly clear. He must return to +Hunston to-night, by the first train after his arrival in New York, find +Higginson and call him to his well-earned reckoning. Meantime ... here +was this girl, this daughter of Uncle Elbert, whom the old sneak had for +the second time failed to bend to his mean uses.... + +"But what reason," he said mechanically, "did he give for his rather +unusual request?" + +"He wouldn't give any! That's what makes it all so ridiculous--don't you +see? Naturally I asked, but he only said in his nervous apologetic way +that he wasn't at liberty to tell, but that after last night I ought to +consider whether you--your surroundings were likely to be quite safe. I +said: 'But oughtn't you to give me some idea and, if there is any +danger, warn Mr. Varney and Mr. Maginnis? You can't mean that there is +another plot, involving the yacht this time--the likelihood of a naval +battle on the Hudson?' And then he wrung his hands and said that he +couldn't tell me what he meant, but that I'd certainly regret it if I +came. There! Oh, I _know_ he thought he was doing somebody a +kindness--you and me both, I believe! And yet--that was just a little +creepy, wasn't it?" + +He made no answer to this; hardly heard what she said. Mr. Higginson, +his works and ways, had once more slipped wholly from his mind. +Something in the look of her face, its young trustfulness, its utter +lack of suspicion, had already laid paralyzing hold upon him. Now a new +thought possessed him; and all at once his breast was in a tumult. + +"And yet," he said, with sudden fierce exultation, "_you came_!" + +She colored slightly under his look and tone and, to cover it, gave a +light laugh. + +"Oh, yes.. dauntless person that I am! Have you the remotest idea what +he was talking about?... But oh, really we must turn around now! Indeed +we must--I hadn't noticed how far we have come. And you can show me +things as we go back, can't you?" + +He started at her speech; asked himself suddenly and wildly what was +wrong with him. A better opening for his crushing announcement could not +have been desired. Yet he stood dumb as a man of stone. One blurted +phrase would commit him irrevocably, but his lips would not say it. And +he was glad. + +He stared over the water thinking desperately what this might mean. + +In that first meeting, radiant as it had somehow seemed to him, he knew +that, given this chance, he could have carried his business through +without a quiver. Even last night when, he thought, things to make it +harder had piled one on another like Ossa on Pelion, it would not have +been impossible. Now his lips appeared sealed by a new and overwhelming +reluctance; a resistless weakness saturated him through and through, +seducing his will, filching away his very voice. + +The _Cypriani_ rattled and wheezed, and her speed sharply slackened, but +he did not notice it. His mind fastened on the stark fact of his +impotence like a key in a lock: his heart leapt up to meet it. He turned +slowly and looked at her. + +She leaned lightly upon the rail, her eyes on the water, her lashes on +her cheek like a silken veil. At her breast nodded his favor, the +_Cypriani's_ perfect rose. In her youth, her beauty, and, most of all, +her innocent helplessness, there was something indescribably wistful, +indescribably compelling: it sprang at him and possessed him. Even in +permitting him her acquaintance, she had trusted him far past what he +had any right to expect; and now, with his own sickening game at the +touch, she gave this crowning proof of confidence in him--dashing it +full in the face of the whispering and hinting Higginson, full in his +own face too. Could anything in all the world matter beside the fact +that this girl believed in him, that she had trusted him not only +against convention, not only against his cowardly enemy, but last and +biggest, _against himself?_ + +And she should not be disappointed. His pledge to her father was a +Jephthah's oath, honorable only in the breaking. His mission, all his +hours in Hunston, took changed shape before the eye of his whirling +mind, monstrous, accusing, unbelievably base. Reward that trust with +treachery, that faith with betrayal? Never while he lived. + +Out of his turmoil came peace and light, flooding the far reaches of his +soul. + +In crises thought moves with the speed of light. The young man's mental +revolution was over and done with in a second's time; the pause was +infinitesimal. Almost as she finished her last remark, Mr. Carstairs's +daughter turned from the rail and took a step forward upon the deck, as +though to jog her host toward that promised tour of the yacht which had +now flagged so long. + +"I thought you ought to know this," she was saying, apparently quite +unaware of his descent into the psychological deeps, "though perhaps you +will think it not worth repeating. But before we go on, do tell me +--won't you?--is Mr. Higginson merely--_seeing things_--a sort of +he-Cassandra, you know--or really do you think there is any danger?" + +"No!" answered Varney, so promptly as to give the air of having waited +long for just that question. "There is no danger now, thank God!" + +A heavy step sounded near, approaching. Starting to speak, he broke off, +turned and saw the sailing-master coming towards him. Over the +intervening stretch of deck the two men looked at each other, the master +nervously, Varney victoriously. + +It was one of those critical moments whose importance no one can gauge +until after the time for guaging is past. However, as it fell out, it +was the master who spoke first. + +"Very sorry, sir, indeed," he began, with a curiously uneasy and +hang-dog expression. "The gear's broke down again--in another place. +Couldn't possibly have been foreseen, sir. We can--hem--manage to beat +about without any trouble, but I fear it would not be safe to try to +push on to New York." + +"To New York!" said Mary Carstairs, looking at Varney and laughing at +the man's stupidity. "It certainly would not be safe at all!" + +Even the furtive-glancing sailing-master was conscious of the tide of +gladness that had broken into his young master's eyes. + +"_Put about this instant, man_!" he cried imperiously. "Miss Carstairs +wishes to return to Hunston as soon as possible." + +"Right, sir," stammered the astonished Ferguson, backing away. "At once, +sir." + +Varney met the man's amazement steadily, laughed into it, and so turned +again to his old friend's daughter. She was conscious of thinking that +this was the first _happy_ smile she had seen on his face since the +night when he lit the lamp at Mr. Stanhope's. + +"He seemed nearly stupefied because you weren't going to scold him, did +you notice? I wonder if you are usually very cross with him. But on with +our sightseeing! What is the name of this such-and-such a kind of +steam-yacht?" + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, struggling against his sudden exaltation +for calmness and self-control--"we are both conscious that I owe you an +explanation for--for what of course you must think my very extraordinary +behavior. Believe me, you shall have it very soon. There is nothing in +the wide world--ah--that is, I'd like very much to give it to you now. +But--no, no--it wouldn't be quite right--no--not fair--" + +"You think I am eaten up with feminine curiosity about Mr. Higginson!" +she said, a little hastily. "Oh, I'll show you. Look! Look! We're +turning around already." + +"Don't look there. Look in this general direction now and then, and tell +me what you see." + +"I see," she said, looking anywhere but at him, "the strangest, the +most _volatile_ and--_not_ excepting Mr. Higginson--the most +_mysterious_ man in Hollaston County!" + +"Where are your eyes, Miss Carstairs? You are standing within two feet +of the happiest man in America, and you don't even know it." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +IN WHICH MR. HIGGINSON AND THE SAILING-MASTER BOTH MERIT PUNISHMENT, AND +BOTH ESCAPE IT + +Passing the town-wharf laggingly like the maimed thing she was, limping +nearer and nearer the spot whence she had set out three-quarters of an +hour before, Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ slowed down at an abandoned +private landing--the same one by which Peter's trunk had been conveyed +ashore that morning--and ran out her stairs. + +As the two on board stood watching the yacht make fast, conversing, if +the truth be known, somewhat disjointedly, they were astonished to see +the great form of a man rise from a grassy bed a little way back from +the river-bank and advance towards them. + +"Why, look!" said Mary. "There's Mr. Maginnis! I thought he'd gone to +town long ago." + +Varney did not answer her. His eyes were glued upon Maginnis, and he +called in a strange voice: + +"You have been waiting for us." + +"Haven't budged a step," answered Peter, moving out upon the landing. +And he added what seemed an odd remark to Miss Carstairs: "I knew you +were coming back." + +He greeted Mary at the foot of the stairs, cordially, and begged the +privilege of escorting her to any destination it might be her fancy to +name. But she stoutly declined his good offices, as she had Varney's a +moment before, declaring that she could not think of troubling so busy +and important a man. + +"But where did you spirit Mr. Hare off to, if I might ask?" she said. + +"On a very important mission I assure you, madam,--that is, Miss +Carstairs," said Peter, diplomatically, having no idea how matters +stood. "He begged me to let him go back and say good-bye to you, but I +told him I'd make it a personal matter." + +"I am awfully glad that you have stopped calling me 'madam,'" said Mary, +rather inconsequently. "I _did_ hate it so!" + +And she walked off up the woodland path, swinging her recovered parasol, +and finding herself with a good deal to think about. + +Peter, coming on deck, found his friend waiting for him, taut as a +whipcord. + +"Well, old horse!" said Maginnis. "Welcome back to jolly little +Hunston." + +"The machinery broke down on me," said Varney, turning away to light a +cigarette. + +"Sure," said Peter cheerfully. "You knew it was going to do it when you +started. I read it in your eye when we said farewell forever." + +"You are quite mistaken," said Varney. "Ask Ferguson." + +"Oh! Then you'll do it to-morrow morning, when the machinery is all +right again?" + +"No," said Varney, "nor at any other time." + +The two men looked at each other steadily, unwinkingly. As the look +lengthened, each face gave way to a slow reluctant smile. + +"I won't pretend," said Peter, "that I am disappointed in you. I never +dreamed that I hated this thing till the time came, and hang me if I +don't rather like that little girl." + +"It was a thing," said Varney, "that simply couldn't be done. We were a +pair of asses not to see that all along." He glanced hurriedly at his +watch and started for the companionway. "Jove! I'll have to hustle." + +"Hustle! Where the devil to?" + +"I'm off to New York by the five o'clock train to tell Uncle Elbert that +I've resigned. I'll feel mighty mean doing it, too." + +"Well, don't anticipate trouble," called Peter dryly. "You can't feel +mean by the five o'clock train, however much you may deserve--" + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't any. She goes through at four-seven. You'll have to compose +yourself to wait till eight-ten, unless you want to walk." + +Varney halted at the head of the companionway, surprisingly +disappointed. From the moment when the _Cypriani_ had put about, he had +been insistently conscious that his first duty now was to see Mr. +Carstairs, beg absolution from his promise, and formally surrender his +commission. So only, he had felt, could he go on with clean hands. + +"Well, don't look so glum over it," said Peter. "You're not any sorrier +about your prolonged stay in our midst than I am." + +Varney turned an inquiring eye upon him, and he began walking rather +restlessly up and down the deck. + +"Oh, this same old rot!" he broke out impatiently. "I'll never be easy +in my mind till you are back in New York, and _stay_ there--" + +"Well, well, Peter! Stick it out for three hours more--" + +"Not long after you and Miss Carstairs steamed off," continued Peter, +"Hare blew back down here, tired of waiting and a little excited. He had +just heard some passing whispers about you and me. He says there seems +to be a little suppressed excitement in town this afternoon." + +"Why, I thought your paper had kicked all that nonsense into a cocked +hat." + +"A lot of people don't believe the paper, though," said Peter. "On the +contrary they believe that you are Stanhope and that you bought the +_Gazette_ to disown yourself and save your hide. A foolish idea, but it +has doubtless been helped out by whispers from higher up. Smith's +selling out has made Ryan see red. Smith's still in town, by the way, +which argues a good deal of cool nerve on his part. Hare hears that Ryan +is in a murdering humor--" + +"You seem to forget entirely that Stanhope--the real, the genuine, +double-extry-guaranteed--has appeared, to bear his own--" + +"But Hunston doesn't know it yet!" exclaimed Peter. "Kindly get that +well into your head. All these Hackleys and Orricks still think that +you're their meat--Where're you going?" + +Varney, pausing at the hatch, deliberated whether he should say anything +to Peter about Mr. Higginson's latest and most daring intrusion, and +declared for the negative. "There's no reason," he mused, "why I should +let him in on this. And besides--" + +"To town," he said aloud. "I've got to send a telegram to Uncle Elbert. +He's very much on my conscience--poor old chap!" + +"I'll go with you. Got a Reform Committee meeting at five-thirty. And +some other business." + +But Varney had already disappeared below. Peter picked up his splendid +guitar and, sprawling upon the transom, gave himself up to soft humming +and, presently, to the work of composition. Soon, after some little +painstaking effort, he produced the following, to be rendered to the +tune of "Yankee Doodle": + + The tale of crime is at an end, + For little Laurence Va-arney + Declines to swipe his loidy friend + Upon the _Cypria-a-ani_! + +Peter tried this over to himself with considerable satisfaction. He +possessed a remarkably sweet tenor and pleasurably anticipated singing +his ditty to its hero, and doubtless getting a cushion pitched at his +head for his pains. But it happened that Varney was to go to his grave +without ever hearing that small chanson. + +He came on deck again in five minutes with a face which drove all +thoughts of melody from Peter's head. In fact, at sight of it, he came +instantly to a sitting position and his guitar slid unheeded to the +floor. + +"What's happened?" + +Varney did not answer immediately. He stood at the rail and stared into +the woods with fixed eyes which saw nothing. Peter rose and came towards +him. + +"Out with it!" he said encouragingly. "I'm full partner here. You want +to murder somebody. Well and good! Now who is it?" + +Varney turned towards him, half-reluctantly, and spoke in a quiet voice. + +"I told you just now that the machinery broke down. I was mistaken. It +was broken down." + +"_Broken down?_" + +"When I went below," continued the younger man, "it occurred to me to +look in the engine-room and see how bad the damage was. It was very bad +indeed. I'm no mechanic, Lord knows, but a child could make no mistake +here. The effect is about as if somebody had jammed a crowbar in the +works while she was running full-tilt. Probably that is just what +somebody did. It'll be some days before she'll run again." + +Peter's bewilderment deepened. "What in the world does this mean?" + +"Treachery," said Varney calmly. "Somebody on board has been bought." + +The two men stared at each other. Varney read on Peter's face the swift +unfolding of precisely his own thought. He was rather surprised at +Peter's quickness, in view of the fact that he knew nothing of the +episode of the morning. + +"Yes," he said. "That's the man." + +He told concisely of Mr. Higginson's attempt to break up the lunch-party +by keeping the guest of honor away. Peter's face, as he listened, +underwent a curious change. It first slowly gained color, then slowly +lost it; and all of it, from the top of his forehead to the end of his +chin, seemed subtly to contract and tighten up. + +His comment at the end was: "Excuse me a minute." + +Upon which he vanished below to see with his own eyes and judge with his +own brain. He was back in less than two minutes, with a tiny spot of red +in the corner of his eye, and his manner unwontedly calm. + +"You're right. Pretty clumsy treachery that," he said, standing and +staring at Varney, who had dropped into a chair. "What was the man +thinking about to ... I don't begin to see bottom on this." + +Varney's eyes were on the sailing-master, who sat far forward, feet on +the rail, apparently engrossed in a magazine. The young man had just +recalled the master's curious manner when he notified him of the +accident to the machinery. + +"Larry--you meant to turn around anyway?" + +"But Higginson, you see, couldn't predict that." + +"The immediate cause of your turning--" + +"Was the little mishap to our gear." + +He raised his voice: "Ferguson! I'd like a word with you if you please." + +The sailing-master jumped at the sound of the voice as though it had +shot a projectile into his back. However, he rose at once and came +forward in his usual, brisk, stiff way, halting before the two men with +a salute. Varney eyed him inscrutably. + +"I believe you were in town for a while this morning, Ferguson?" + +"Yes, sir, I was." + +"While there did you chance to see anything of an elderly gentleman, a +stranger here, by the name of Higginson?" + +Though he had the look of being braced for trouble, the man changed +color at the direct question, and his eyes instantly shifted. With an +evident effort he recaptured something like his usual steadiness and +spoke in a voice of elaborate thought fulness. + +"Higginson? No, sir. I know no one of that name." + +"Ah? I thought not. I asked on the mere chance. And oh, Ferguson." + +"Sir?" + +"I have just been down to look at the damaged machinery. Ignorant of +these matters myself, I can naturally make little of it. You will +prepare a written report for Mr. Carstairs, explaining in detail the +nature of the accident, and in particular just how it took place." + +"Very good, sir." + +"And--oh, Ferguson." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"As the--er--mishap appears to be so serious, I think it best to have an +expert from town advise with me before the work of repairing begins. You +will therefore leave matters just as they are until I instruct you +otherwise." + +"Oh--very good, sir." + +Peter turned his dissatisfied eyes from the back of the retreating +sailing-master to Varney. + +"What better proof d'you want than the rogue's face? Why didn't you fire +him on the spot?" + +"I neither hire nor fire here," said Varney. "These are Mr. Carstairs's +employees. He will have to deal with them as he thinks best." + +He rose immediately and put on his hat. + +"With Mr. Higginson, however," he mused, starting for the stair, "the +case is altogether different." + +"Exactly," said Peter with great heartiness. + +As one man they descended the stairs, crossed the battered landing and +struck rapidly up the woodland path for Remsen Street and the town. As +they walked, Varney silently condemned the unfailing genius of the Irish +for intruding themselves into all the trouble that hove upon the +horizon. It was with acute pleasure that he recalled, before long, his +friend's engagement for half-past five. For he himself had but three +hours left in Hunston that day, and he had an urgent use for +them--beyond even Mr. Higginson. + +"I confess once more," said Peter, tramping heavily, "that this chap is +too many for me. I don't seem to grasp his game." + +"And you call yourself a conspirator, Peter! Why, this is ABC." + +"All right. I'm listening. Spell it out for me." + +"Suppose the gang here is deep enough, as you think, to plan a little +rough-house, ostensibly for my benefit, but really to get you into it +and thus wipe you out. Doesn't it occur to you that my fading away to +New York at the critical moment would rather knock the bottom out of the +scheme? Why, it's as clear as noonday! Higginson, learning somehow that +I expected to fly off immediately after the lunch-party, first tries to +break up the party, and failing that, he bribes Ferguson to break up the +machinery. Thus he hopes to make it impossible for me to get away--me +whom he needs in his business as the red rag for his little old mob." + +They had emerged from the woods and walked a block up Remsen Street +before Peter replied. + +"By Jove! That does seem to explain everything! That's it! It's +Higginson, not Smith, who has been pulling all these wires from the +beginning. I suspected the man the first minute I ever clapped eyes on +him. But where do you suppose he got his hint?" + +"Hammerton?" + +"Never. That boy is trustworthy, or I'll eat my hat." + +"Well, I think so too. Then he simply corrupted Ferguson and wormed the +whole thing out of him. Pretty clever, the whole thing, wasn't it? How +much Ferguson may really know, or suspect, I have no idea. Of course, +there is only one thing to fear now, and that is scareheads in the New +York papers to-morrow--attempted kidnapping foiled, and so on. It would +break Uncle Elbert's heart if anything of that sort should come out--" + +"Don't you worry. It won't. I'll close his trap--tight." + +Once more Varney was slightly annoyed by Peter's presence. + +"If we find him," he began, as they came to the square, "you--" + +"We must try not to be brutal, Larry," warned Peter soberly. "I remind +myself that he is an elderly man--" + +"If we find him," began Varney again, "you will please remember that he +belongs to me. Higginson is strictly my pickings." + +Peter grunted, looking rather annoyed too. + +They crossed the square, two determined-looking men, and entered the +Palace Hotel. Behind the desk a bored clerk sat paring his nails with a +pair of office scissors. He looked up with a certain resentfulness. + +"Excuse my interruption," said Varney. "Is Mr. Higginson in?" + +The clerk's glance lowered tiredly. "Naw. Left town on the four-seven." + +"I don't believe it," said Peter instantly. + +There followed a silence. So stern were the gazes fastened upon the +clerk that, looking hastily up at Peter's word, he promptly lost +something of his lordly demeanor and became for the moment almost human. + +"Well, sir, he's left _us_. _Said_ he was takin' the four-seven." + +"Where did he go?" demanded Varney. + +"Don't know, sir, but I think to New York." + +"You must know where he checked his baggage to." + +"Didn't have any baggage, sir," protested the clerk. "Only his +suit-case." + +"Did he leave no address for the forwarding of his mail?" + +"Naw, sir. He did not." + +"Of course not. Why on earth should he?" said Peter. + +Desisting from the absent but fierce stare with which he was transfixing +the clerk, he drew Varney hurriedly aside. + +"All bluff!" he stated positively. "Is it likely, after _his_ day's +work, that he'd be lolling around the lobby waiting for us to call? He's +_moved_! But depend on it, he's got more work to do, and he _hasn't left +town_!" + +"If that's so, where do you recommend looking?" + +Peter made a large gesture. "That's a horse of another color. I told you +he had a faculty for disappearing into a hole and pulling the hole in +after him. If anybody besides Ryan knows where he is, I should say that +it might be Miss Carstairs. She seems to be his only friend on our side +of the fence, since I tipped Hare off." + +Varney all but jumped. "I'll ask her!" he offered almost precipitately. +"The very thing!" + +"It is quite possible," continued Peter, tensely thoughtful, "that the +old rascal has sneaked to her since the luncheon, to try to pump +something out of her about our movements--even within the bounds of +possibility that he is with her at this moment--" + +"A great suggestion!" said Varney cordially. "You certainly have a head +on you, Peter. Of course, on the other hand, it is quite possible that +he _has_ skipped--made a bee-line for Newspaper Row. In that case, I'll +see if she--Miss Carstairs, you know--if she knows his address in New +York, and I'll hunt him up to-night." + +Peter, glancing at his watch, discovered that he was already fifteen +minutes late for his committee meeting. + +"For this afternoon, then," he said, unwillingly, "you can have him, if +you can find him. After to-day, though, he belongs to me. Wherever he is +now, he'll certainly be back on the job to-morrow. Well--I'll leave you, +then. Er--Larry. It's just as well not to be prowling around after dark +by yourself, you know. I'll be back at the yacht early and we'll have +dinner together before your train. Say six-thirty, eh?" + +"I'll be there." + +Peter hurried off for Hare's house with a mingled sense of unjustly +baffled vengeance and vague uneasiness. Varney, drawing a long breath of +relief, headed for the telegraph office, whence he dispatched the +following telegram to Mr. Carstairs: + + "Plan permanently abandoned. Arrive in New York + by train 9.20 to-night. Expect me ten minutes later." + +That done, he started rapidly down Remsen Street with a steadily +mounting spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +VARNEY, HAVING EMBARKED UPON A CRIME, FINDS OUT THAT THERE IS A PRICE TO +PAY + +There was a fine old hedge of box bordering the Carstairs lawn, old +rosebushes inside it and many flowering shrubs. Splendid oaks curtained +the big white house on either side, shading the expanse of close-clipped +turf. At the left, a fountain-sprayer now whirled a mist of water over +the trim grass, and far to the rear a man in rubber boots was hosing off +a phaeton before a carriage house. On the back porch, an elderly cook +was peeling potatoes and gently crooning some old ballad of Erin. + +It was a serene and reassuring scene. Yet upon the spacious piazza, +which undeniably contributed to the pervading air of all's well, the +stunning information came to Varney that the lady of his quest was not +at home. Nor could the maid at the door say where her young mistress had +gone, or with whom, or when she would return. Possibly Mrs. Carstairs +knew, but Mrs. Carstairs was unwell and could not be disturbed. Miss +Carstairs would be sorry to miss him, the kind-hearted girl opined, and +would he please leave his name? + +The young man descended the steps in a state of the flattest depression. +Disappointment, he reflected bitterly, crowded upon the heels of +disappointment on this anticlimactic afternoon which yet should have +been, in a bigger sense, so gloriously climactic. He had missed his +train, and with it his honorable confession to Mr. Carstairs; missed +Higginson; last and worst of all--it seemed to him now that this was all +that mattered in the least--he had missed Miss Carstairs. In sooth, the +world was all awry. + +But at the gate, a thought came to him, radiant as a heavenly messenger. +Miss Carstairs was at her seamstress's on the Remsen road. Had she not +told him with her own lips that she was to be there at this hour? + +He made a _Te Deum_ of the click of the gate, and turned northward a +face which bore record of an inner splendor. + +He had set out to see Miss Carstairs in order to ask of her if she knew +the whereabouts, in Hunston or New York, of the fair-spoken yet elusive +Higginson. But with every step he found the force of this errand +weakening within him. The memory of that gentleman's villany, so burning +a moment since, grew steadily fainter and more inconsequential. Failing +to locate him, he would of course make a precautionary round of the +newspaper offices in New York that night. At the worst, he told himself +with the swift fading of his anger, there was only a remote risk of any +unpleasant aftermath. Why, the thing was over and done with--let +by-gones be by-gones. As for those other matters supposed to be upon his +mind--hints of approaching trouble for himself, and the knowledge of Mr. +Carstairs's bitter disappointment over the collapse of his all but +triumphant scheme--he could not for the life of him give them any +attention whatever. + +A far nearer and more vital matter was pressing upon his mind and heart. + +To tell her everything at the moment when the yacht had swung back and +he had thrown up his commission forever had been his first strong +impulse. He had crushed it down only because he saw that to speak then +was to take her at an ungenerous disadvantage. Now Fortune had sent him +this new meeting, to be untrammeled by any such restraints. No grim duty +governed his movements now; no consciousness of secret chicanery any +longer enfolded him like a pall. Already the thought of what he had +meant to do came back to him hazily, like the plot of a half-forgotten +play. The hobgoblins in a nightmare seemed not more unreal to him now. +His heart sang with the knowledge that he was to see her again, this +time with no shadow between. + +Two nights' rain had left the road dustless: it was silent and empty. +All about him fell the pleasant evening noises of the wood, but he did +not hear them. As he walked, his mind was rehearsing the whole story of +his coming to Hunston, as he was now free to confess it to Uncle +Elbert's daughter. That she would forgive him he never entertained a +doubt. For he would throw himself wholly on her mercy--telling her +everything, painting himself as blackly as he could--and suing for +pardon only because he had failed. + +But when suddenly he saw her, sooner than he had expected, his polished +and elaborate phrases dropped from his mind as cleanly as had the +recollection of the roguery of Higginson. + +It was at that hour when the skies remember the set sun in a gold and +pink glow. A little kink in the road straightened out under his swift +feet, and a small cottage in a fair-sized lawn jumped out of the woods +into vision, almost upon him. On the small square porch, her back to the +road, stood Miss Carstairs, talking through the open window to some one +in the room beyond. + +Varney, having stopped short at the first sudden sight of her, walked on +very slowly. Her voice came to him distinctly, and now and then he +caught scattering words of what she was saying. She wore her blue dress +of the luncheon and the hat which Mrs. Marne, and others, had so +admired; and she gave him the odd impression of being somehow _older_ +than she had ever seemed before.... Yet she was ten years his junior and +three days ago, at this very hour, he had never so much as laid eyes +upon her. + +"I'll come Saturday morning, then," she was saying, "and you'll +certainly have them ready for me, won't you? Good-bye." + +She turned from the window, came towards the steps. At the top of them, +she saw Varney standing at the gate, not twenty yards away, and stopped +dead. Then she came on down the stairs, down the graveled walk towards +him. + +"I'm going away at eight o'clock," he began without greeting, striving +to make his voice casual. "I went to your house first--and--" + +"You--followed me here?" + +"Yes," he said, unsmiling. "I had to see you before I went--on matters +of business--and--" + +She was nearer to him now: for the first time he could see her eyes. In +them lay a faint shadowiness like the memory of shed tears; but sweeping +over that and blotting it out he saw a look which struck him like a +blow. + +"There is nothing for you to see me about, I think--any more," she said +with a little laugh. "The game is up--isn't that what they say in +melodrama? My mother has told me all about it." + +"Your mother has _told you_!" he echoed stupidly, as one to whom the +words conveyed no meaning. + +"She had not expected to see me so soon again, when I went off to lunch +on my father's yacht. The surprise was a little too much for her. You +must try to forgive her," said Mary, and punctuated the observation with +a small, final bow. "Will you open the gate for me?" + +"No," said Varney, pulling himself sharply together. "Not like that." + +The shock of her voice and look, even more than her words, had been +stunning in their first unexpectedness. But now he remembered, with +infinite relief, that of course she did not understand the matter at +all; of course she would speak and look very differently when he had +made his explanation. + +"You think," Varney said, "that I _mind_ your knowing about our poor +little plot--that I am found out and my plans are all upset? How on +earth could you think that? Why, that's all like something in another +life. Don't you know what my being here at this moment means? The thing +is all over, Miss Carstairs--all past and done with an hour before you +ever saw your mother. I gave it up voluntarily. When the time came, just +now on the yacht, I found out that it was impossible--unthinkable--I +couldn't do it. The game was up then. That is one thing that your mother +could not tell you, and it was to tell you this, and all the rest of it, +that I followed you here." + +She stood on the other side of the gate, hardly an arm's length from +him, looking at him; a figure so pretty, so dainty, so extremely +decorative that she seemed incapable of giving anything but pleasure. +But in the eyes that met his own so unwaveringly, he read at once the +contradiction of this. + +"Yes, I suppose that would always be the way, wouldn't it?--that +whenever I found out, you were just going to tell me?" + +If she had searched her mind for a way to strangle his headlong +self-defence, she could not possibly have done it more effectually. +There followed a horrible pause. + +"You mean ... that you do not believe me?" + +"In the little while that I have known you, have you given me much +reason to?" + +"Can't you see that that is exactly the reason I wanted to tell you all +the truth now?" + +"Why did you wait till _now_? Weren't there chances to tell me this +afternoon on my father's yacht? But--there's no use to speak of all +this. It is enough that I know it now." + +He was aware that her voice had lost that hard and polished lightness +with which she had first struck at him; on this last sentence, he +thought that it trembled a little; and in a flash, he saw the whole +matter from her side of it, and for the moment ceased to think about +himself. + +He leaned his arms upon the green panel of the gate and looked down at +her. + +"Don't think that I blame you for not taking my word. Probably I +couldn't expect it. We can't very well argue about that.... And of +course I have known all along--how you would feel about me, when you +found out what I came here to do. I was ready for that--ready for you to +be angry. But I don't seem to have taken it in that you would be ... +hurt. That makes it a good deal worse." + +She made no reply. She had lowered her heavy-fringed eyes; her slim, +gloved hands were busily furling and unfurling her white parasol. + +"There is nothing in this that need hurt you. Believe me in this, at any +rate. Only three people are concerned in it. You will have no doubt of +your mother. That she told you shows how impossible it was to her, even +with Uncle Elbert wanting you so much. You will not mind about your +father--not in any personal way. He is a stranger to you. That leaves +only me." + +Still she said nothing. It seemed to him that he had never looked at so +still a face. + +"For me, I might make you angry as any--acquaintance might--any +stranger. But that is all. It is not ... as if we had been friends." + +She raised her eyes, and the look in them seemed to give the lie to +every word he had said. + +"What do you call a friend? Did I not trust you--put myself in your +power--fall confidingly in with your hateful plot--after I had been +plainly warned not to? Oh, if I had only listened to Mr. Higginson, I +should not have the humiliation of remembering that--hour on the yacht!" + +The name stung him into instant recollection. He stood staring at her, +and his face darkened. + +In the first staggering revelation of her look, his sub-conscious mind +had leapt instantly to the conclusion that his cunning enemy, having +found out his secret, had betrayed it to Miss. Carstairs. Her first +words had disposed of that. It was the tortured mother, not the +professional sneak, who had been before him with his explanation. But +now it rushed over him that he had an infinitely deeper grudge against +the vanished spy. For it was Higginson, with his bribe-money, who had +broken down the yacht; Higginson who would, in any case, have forced the +return to Hunston; Higginson who had given this girl the right to think, +as she did think, that she owed her escape wholly to an "accident" to +the machinery. + +He had thought that he had saved Uncle Elbert's daughter from himself, +and lo, his enemy had plucked the honor from him. The world should not +be big enough for this man to elude his vengeance. + +"You mention Mr. Higginson. Where is he?" + +She glanced at him, impersonally, struck by the unconscious sternness of +his voice. + +"I do not know, but I am most anxious to see him--to thank him--" + +"I am told that he left town at four o'clock. Perhaps you know his +address in New York?" + +"I do not," she answered coldly. "No doubt he went away hurriedly ... +frightened of you because of his kindness to me." + +She came a step forward to the gate. Instantly his thought veered back +to her and his tense face softened. + +"How can I blame you," he said hurriedly, "for thinking the worst of me? +I've been thinking badly enough of myself, God knows. But don't you +know, can't you imagine, that nothing could have held me to the +miserable business a single moment after I saw you, had I not been bound +by a solemn promise to your poor father?" + +"My father! Oh, if he is the sort of man to plot a thing like this, and +to bludgeon my mother into it, how could you endure to _promise_ to do +it for him?" + +"Because he is breaking his heart for you, and you didn't know it. It +seemed right that he should see you, since he wants to so much." + +All her sense of the wrong he had done her flared up in anger at that. +"How do _you_--_dare_ say what seems right between my father and me? He +is breaking his heart for me, he told you? Did he mention to you that +she had _broken_ hers for him? Don't you suppose that I have had +time--and reasons--to decide which of them I belong to?" + +"All this," he said, "was before I knew you." + +About them hung the stillness of the country and the long empty road. +The woods stirred; a bird called; a portly hare poked his nose through +the brush over the way, and suddenly scuttled off, his white flag up. In +Mrs, Thurston's yard, the quiet was profound. + +"All his life," said Mary Carstairs, "my father has thought about +nothing but himself. I am sorry for him--but he must take the +consequences of that now. If he is lonely, it is his own making. If my +mother has been lonely till it has almost killed her, that is his doing, +too. For you--there was never any place in this. As for me, I owe him +nothing. He must beg my mother's forgiveness before he shall ever get +mine." + +She came forward another half-step and laid her hand upon the gate-latch +with a movement whose definiteness did not escape him. + +"You may take back that answer from me if you wish. And so, good-bye." + +"Not good-bye," said Varney, instantly. "You must not say that." + +"I am quite sure that I have nothing else left to say." + +Her eyes went past him over the gate, out into the wood beyond. Dusk was +falling about them; it shaded her face, intangibly altered it, made it +for the moment almost as he had known it before. She looked very young, +and tired. This was the picture of her, and he knew it then as he looked +at her, that he would carry with him to the longest day he lived. + +"Is it nothing to you," he cried in a rush, "that when the time came I +couldn't do it? The yacht's breaking down had nothing in the world to do +with it. I had already decided to turn back, to break my promise. That +the--accident happened just then was only a wretched chance. I was going +to put about at that moment." + +She hesitated almost imperceptibly, seemed for a brief second to waver. +But perhaps she dared not let herself believe him now: perhaps the +strongest wish of her heart was to hurt him as deeply as she could. + +"To say the least," she said with a little deliberate movement of +distaste, "your coincidences are unfortunate. You--won't mind if I go on +being grateful to the--_gear_?" + +Under that crowning taunt, his self-restraint snapped like an +overstretched bow-string. + +"You shall not say that. You shall not. Miss Carstairs, you _know_ I +could have kept you on the yacht if I had wanted to. You _know_ how I +gave the order to put about and bring you back to Hunston. Did I look in +the least then like a man whose hopes and plans had been ruined? You +know I did not. You know I said to you that I--I was the happiest man in +America. Will you tell me what on earth that could mean--except that I +had decided to give up a thing that has been a millstone around my neck +ever since--I met you?" + +She made no reply, did not look at him. The dusk shadowed her eyes; and +whether her silence meant good or ill he could not tell. + +"You cannot answer, you see. We both know why. You will not be fair to +me, Miss Carstairs. It is that night in the Academy box-office over +again. Because I _had_ to deceive you once--not for my own sake--you +will not look at the plain facts. But in your heart--just like that +other night--_I know you believe me."_ + +Of course she could not let that pass now. "I do not!" she said. "I do +not. I must ask you, please, not to keep me here any longer." + +Varney's face went a shade paler. Arguing about his own veracity was +even less bearable than he had thought; his manner all at once became +singularly quiet. + +"The merest moment, if you will. I can prove what I say," he answered +slowly, "but of course I won't do that. You must believe what _I_ say, +believe _me_. Nothing else matters but that.... Don't you know that it +took a very strong reason to make me break faith with my old friend, +your father--to make me stand here begging to be believed, like this? +You have only to look at me, I think. Don't you know that I couldn't +possibly deceive you now ... after what has happened to me?" + +"I don't know what you mean. I don't understand. Don't tell me. Nothing +has happened ..." + +"Everything has happened," he said still more quietly. "I've fallen +crazily in love with you." + +She did not lift her eyes; neither moved nor spoke; gave no sign that +she had heard. He went on slowly: + +"This--might be hard to believe, except that it must be so easy to see. +I've known you less than three days, and I never wanted to--even like +you. My one idea was to think of you as my enemy. That was what Maginnis +and I agreed--plotting together like a pair of nihilists. It all seems +so preposterous now. Everything was against me from the beginning. I +wouldn't face it till to-day, this afternoon. Then it all came over me +in a rush, and, of course, your happiness became a great deal more to me +than your father's. So we turned around, and it was then that I told you +how happy I was. Didn't you know then what I meant? Of course it was +because I had just found out ... how you were the one person in the +world who mattered to me." + +There was a long silence. It deepened, grew harder to break. Little +Jenny Thurston, watching these two through an upstairs shutter, marveled +what adults found to say to each other in these interminable colloquies. +A young cock-sparrow, piqued by their stillness, alighted on the fence +near by and studied them, eye cocked inquisitively. + +"Of course, I'm not--asking anything," said Varney. "About this, I mean. +I am answered, and over-answered, already. But ... do you believe now +that I--voluntarily gave it up?" + +"Oh," said Mary, "you--you must not ask me that. You must not talk to me +like this. I did trust you once--fully--when you were almost a stranger; +last night--and then this afternoon--" + +"Do you believe me," said Varney, "or do you not?" + +Her lower lip was trembling very slightly, and she set her white teeth +upon it. The sudden knowledge that she was near to tears terrified her, +goaded her to lengths. She gathered all her pride of opinion and young +sense of wrong and frightened feminine instinct, for a final desperate +stand; and so flung at him more passionately than she knew: "How many +times must I tell you? _I do not! I do not_!" + +Varney gave her a last look, stamping her face upon his mind, and took a +step backward from the gate. + +"Then," said he ... "this is good-bye, indeed." + +Presently Mary raised her eyes. He had turned southward, toward the +town, but at a pace so swift that he was already far down the road. A +jutting curve came soon, and he vanished behind it, out of her sight. + +Dusk was falling fast on the wood now. The green of the trees deepened +and blackened, turning into a crooked smudge upon the sky-line. The road +fell between them like a long gray ribbon. Nothing was to be seen upon +it; nothing was to be heard but the rustle of the early night wind and +the pleasant sounds of the open road. + +Varney's mind as he walked, was a blank white wall. He had forgotten +Elbert Carstairs, forgotten the train he was to take, forgotten even the +unendurable injury that Higginson had put upon him. His one blind +instinct had been to get away as quickly and completely as possible. But +now, slowly, it was borne in upon him that he knew this road, that he +had walked it once before like this, at the end of the day. His first +night in Hunston--he remembered it all very well. It must have been +just here--or here--that the rain had caught him, and he had gone on to +meet _her_. + +The cottage which had sheltered them that night must be close at hand. +His eyes, which had been upon the ground, lifted and went off down the +road. They fell upon the dark figure of a man, shuffling slowly along in +the gloom, not twenty yards ahead of him. + +He was an old man, shambling and gray-whiskered, and stooped as he +walked. If he was aware that another wayfarer followed close behind, he +gave no sign. Suddenly he stopped short with a feeble exclamation, and +began peering about the ground at his feet. The young man was up with +him directly, and his vague impression of recognition suddenly became +fitted to a name. + +"Orrick?" + +The bowed form straightened and turned. Through the thickening twilight +the two men looked at each other. + +"You were not by any chance waiting for me?" + +The darkness hid old Orrick's eyes; he shook his head slowly a number of +times. "I passed you when you was at Miz Thurston's, sir. I can' walk +fas' like you can." And he bent down over the road again. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Varney. "Have you lost something?" + +"Los' my luck-piece," said the other, slowly, not looking up. "I was +carryin' it in my hand 's I come along an' it jounced out. A 1812 penny +it was an' vallyble." + +He cut rather a pitiful figure, squatting down in the dirt and +squinting about with short-sighted old eyes; and Varney felt +unaccountably sorry for him. + +"I wouldn' los' my luck-piece for nothin'," he added, dropping to his +knees. "I'm a kind of a stoop'sitious man, an' I allus was." + +"Perhaps I can help you; my eyes are good." + +He went back a step or two, bending down and scrutinizing the brown +earth. Orrick, presently announcing that the coin might have rolled, +made a slow way across the road on his knees, patting the ground with +his hand as he moved. Near the edge of it, half in the woods, lay a +thick piece of split firewood, long as a man's arm and stouter. The +knotted old fingers stealthily closed on it. + +"It could n't have rolled far on this soft road," said Varney presently. +"Just where do you think you dropped it?" + +Sam Orrick rose behind his stooping figure with upraised club, a blaze +of triumph in his sodden old eyes. + +"There!" he cried with a senseless laugh. "It's _there_, Stanhope!" + +The club fell with a thud; and Varney, meeting it as he straightened up, +toppled over like a log, face downward. + +Old Orrick stared down at the prostrate figure, and presently touched it +with his tattered foot. It did not stir. His fierce joy died. He looked +about him apprehensively, and his eye fell at once upon a dim-lit +cottage off the road just back of him. _His_ cottage--how had he +forgotten that? Was that dark thing--a man--standing there at the gate? +Suddenly a great terror seized the old man. He threw his stick into the +woods and slunk away, toward the town. A loud yell from behind brought +his heart to his throat, and he broke into a wild, lumbering run. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +MR. FERRIS STANHOPE MEETS HIS DOUBLE; AND LETS THE DOUBLE MEET +EVERYTHING ELSE + + +In the new-made study of his Remsen road cottage, Ferris Stanhope, +Hunston's returned celebrity, sat under a green-shaded lamp and frowned +down at a sheaf of his own neat manuscript. Behind him, in a corner, +books and various knick-knacks lay spilled over the floor around an open +trunk. The room was, in fact, in the litter incident to getting to +rights. But this did not act as a stay on the great man's habit of +industry, which happened to be of the most persistent variety. + +The study blinds were drawn, and the rest of the house was in darkness. +The author noted three emendations upon his manuscript, made three more. +Then, with a muttered exclamation, he stripped off the interlined sheet +altogether, tore it into shreds, threw the shreds on the floor and +reached for a pad of white paper. At that moment he became aware of +footsteps and heavy breathing in the hall, and looked up inquiringly. + +His man-servant, Henry, was standing in the doorway, the long limp body +of a man in his arms. + +Mr. Stanhope sprang hurriedly to his feet. In his face the servant saw +that same odd look of fleeting anxiety which he had noted there when +they descended from the train that morning. + +"In the name of heaven--what have you there?" + +"Harskin' your pardon, sir," gasped Henry, staggering into the room, +"I'm honcertain whether 'e 's kilt or not. Struck down from behind by an +old codger with long 'air and gray whiskers. Hi was at the gate--" + +"But what do you mean by hauling the carcass in here? Do you think I'm +running a private morgue?" + +Henry, who had been in his present employment a bare month, came to a +wobbly pause, surprised. The body grew very heavy in his stout arms. Now +the man's head slid off Henry's shoulder and tumbled backwards, hanging +down in the full glow of the lamp. + +"Hi thought, sir--" began the servant with panting dignity. + +"O my God!" said the author suddenly. + +Henry, who had not had a look at his burden, misunderstood. + +"Ghastly sight, hain't it, sir--that bloody gash on 'is 'ead?" + +"Quick! Put him on the sofa.--Now some water." + +The servant, whose limbs were numb from the long carry, obeyed with +alacrity. But returning hurriedly with the water, he was met at the door +by his perverse master, who took the glass from his hands with the curt +announcement that that would do. + +Henry looked as displeased as his subservient position made advisable. +"Hif you please, sir, I have quite a 'and with the hinjured and--" + +"He's only stunned," said his master impatiently. "I 'll attend to him +myself." + +And he banged the door in the servant's face. + +The man lay on the lounge precisely as Henry had happened to place him, +his averted face half buried in the pillows. Investigation showed that +he had no bloody gash on his head: that was Henry's imagination. There +did not, in fact, seem to be a mark on him beyond three small scratches +on his forehead. + +Stanhope put his hand under the chin and turned it toward him, none too +gently. For a full moment he stood motionless, staring down at that +white face so like his own. Then he dipped his hand in the glass, and +splashed a handful of water upon the closed eyes. + +At the first touch of it, the still figure of the injured man stirred +with faint signs of returning consciousness. Far down in a black and +utter void, he sensed the first glimmer of distant light. Slowly, +slowly, the glimmer grew. The silence within gave place to a vast +roaring in his ears and indescribable pain in his head; and the dull +glow which had seemed to him the shining frontier of some far new world +whither he was gratefully journeying, resolved itself into a circle of +greenish light. + +"Drink this," said a soft but peremptory voice. + +He drank, incuriously; and the fiery liquid ran to his head and heart +and shot new life into his dead limbs. But the more his lost strength +came back to his body, the more he was aware of the terrible pain in his +head. It occurred to him vaguely that when once he opened his eyes, +which he would have to do some time, there would be a horrible explosion +and his head would go off like a sky-rocket. + +"You feel better now," asserted rather than inquired the voice. + +"Much. Thanks to you. It's only--my head. Something seems to be wrong +with it, a little." + +"Somebody hit you there with a club, from behind. You remember now, +don't you? Who was it?" + +"I don't know," said Varney wearily. + +"Oh, come! Your head isn't as bad as all that--there's not even a bump +on it. Think a moment. An old man, with long hair and gray whiskers. You +must know who it was." + +Varney pressed his hand upon his racking forehead. "Oh! So it was +he--then. Poor old Orrick." + +The author's face lost something of its color. "Orrick!... What--what +has this fellow got against you?" + +Varney did not answer. The name had started remote memories to working, +and, very slowly, returning comprehension advanced to meet them. He and +old Orrick had been standing together on a woodland road. They were +hunting for something. An 1812 penny and valuable. That was it. Before +that, he had stood a long time near a green gate somewhere, looking at a +pair of dark-blue eyes. He remembered distinctly what merciless eyes +they were, though something in a far corner of his mind recalled that he +had once, oddly enough, associated them with pleasant things. Then, +like one rounding a sharp corner in a driveway, his memory came face to +face with everything; and he turned his head to the wall. + +But there was no escape from that insistent voice, so eager for an +explanation. A hand fell upon his shoulder, shook it almost roughly. +"Don't let yourself drop off again. Here! You want another drink?" + +"No, I'm quite all right now--thank you." + +To prove it, and to make ready to get away where he could be quiet, he +performed the herculean task of opening his eyes. A tall man was bending +over him, an anxious expression on his handsome face. More than the +liquor, more even than the jostling hand upon his shoulder, the look of +that face, so strange yet so familiar, braced Varney to action. + +The two pairs of gray-blue eyes, so oddly matched in tint and shape, +stared into each other steadily. Presently Varney dragged his feet +around to the floor, with difficulty, as was natural to their thousand +tons of weight, and taking hold of a chair pulled himself up on them. He +raised his hands, slowly and cautiously, to his head. Good! It was still +there. The impression that it had left his shoulders and was floating +around in the air a foot or two above them thus turned out to be an +illusion. + +"There!" he heard the author saying briskly. "A little effort was all +you needed, as I thought." + +"That was all. Thank you. You must have pulled me in from the road, +didn't you? It was very kind. You have just arrived in Hunston--I +believe?" + +"I came only this morning," his good Samaritan replied. "In the nick of +time, it seems, to be of assistance. And you?" he added, with a slight +bow. "You are a native here, perhaps?" + +"Do you remember me," asked Varney quietly, "when you were here twelve +years ago?" + +Mr. Stanhope selected a cigarette from a large open box on the table, +lit it carefully, took several long inhalations. "No," he said easily. +"But for that matter, I fear that I remember few of my boyhood +acquaintances in Hunston. But--this man--Orrick, you said?--has there +been bad blood between you two for some time then?" + +"No," said Varney, simply. "He struck me, I believe, because he thought +I was you?" + +"_What_!" cried the author with overdone surprise. + +"I am glad--to meet you so soon after your arrival," continued Varney. +"Some one should tell you that your boyhood acquaintances have longer +memories. You came here for your health, I believe? I think you might do +well to leave for the same reason." + +Stanhope's eyes became little slits behind his trim glasses. "What do +you mean by these extraordinary remarks?" + +Varney, whose brain seemed to have changed into a ball of shooting pains +and brilliant fireworks, endeavored to think out clearly just what he +had meant by his extraordinary remarks. + +"Possibly you think that I resemble you somewhat?" he said, slowly. "A +number of people here seem to hold that view. In fact, they have +mistaken me for you--everybody has. Doubtless you know why they should +feel unkindly towards you. I make myself perfectly clear, do I not? Only +this afternoon I heard that a little party was being gotten together for +my benefit." + +The author dropped his nervous-looking eyes; he tugged uncertainly at +his wisp of a mustache. + +"This thump on the head from poor old Orrick may satisfy them," +continued Varney. "But my idea is that it won't. I think Orrick was +acting independently this afternoon. A kind of free lance, you know. I +think he met me by accident. There's a train to New York at eight-ten," +he added, looking about for his hat. "I believe I'd clear out if I were +you." + +"Something's back of this!" broke out Stanhope suddenly. "Some dirty +scheme--some infamous plot--" + +"Yes, you are right," said Varney with an effort. "There is a plot back +of it. But I don't know that that makes it any better for you--" + +"I insist that you explain yourself at once!" + +"I was just about to. I came here three days ago, a stranger--on a +little stay. A friend who is with me got interested in a reform movement +here. Politics, you understand. The other side to injure him, published +the story that I was you, under an _alias_. Naturally we didn't like +that. We bought the paper just to say that I wasn't. I supposed that had +settled it. It seems I was wrong. You see, a good deal of feeling had +been worked up meantime--" + +"Hello!" exclaimed Stanhope suddenly raising his hand. "What's that?" + +Varney listened. "Men's voices," he said slowly. + +The door flew open and a man whose ordinary impassivity was touched with +a pleasurable excitement stood on the threshold. + +"If you please, sir, there's some rough-looking men just sneaked up on +the lawn. Ten or twelve--sort of a mob-like, Hi should say--" + +"What do they want?" demanded Stanhope in a high voice. + +"No good, sir, I'm thinking," said the servant shaking his head. "I was +at an upstairs window and saw 'em come sneaking up one by one, hentering +at different places. I made a noise not honlike the click of a 'ammer of +a gun, and they took alarm and scattered back. But they hain't gone +away, sir. Not by a long shot they hain't." + +Henry's master leaned against his handsome writing table, his face white +as a sheet. It appeared to be a moment when quick action was rather +important. + +"They'll try the bell first," said Varney. "Lock all the doors and +windows downstairs, my man. Quick! When they ring, open a window +upstairs, and ask what they want." + +Henry recognized the note of competent authority. He assumed, anyway, +that it was the strange gentleman's quarrel they had so fortunately been +let into, and it was only fair that he should manage it. "Very good, +sir," he said and flew. + +"But I'm afraid," added Varney to Stanhope, "there is no doubt what they +want." + +A single quiet footfall sounded on the porch and the door-bell pealed. +In the silence that followed, the noise of the turning of locks and the +drawing of bolts was distinctly audible in the study. + +"Damn you!" cried Stanhope, pale with the sudden white-hot passion of +the unstable. "This is your doing--you--you masquerader!" + +The two men stood facing each other, hardly a yard apart. They were +almost exactly of a figure, Stanhope being if anything a shade the +taller. Each was conscious as he regarded the other that he might be +looking at himself, intangibly altered, in a mirror; and the fancy was +pleasing to neither. + +"I suppose I might as reasonably call you that," said Varney quietly. "I +might as reasonably say that this knock on the head from Sam Orrick was +your doing. The fact is that you were a fool to come back here. But as +for those poor fellows out there--" + +The door-bell rang again, insistently, and he broke off. A window +upstairs rattled open, and they heard a man's steady voice: + +"'I there on the piazza! What do you want?" + +"I want to see Mr. Stanhope a minute," called a thicker voice from +below. "On important business." + +"'E's not 'ere," said faithful Henry. "'E's expected to arrive +to-morrow." + +"You're a ---- ---- liar!" + +Immediately a general yelling arose, from farther back in the darkness. +Diplomacy, it seemed, was about to be abandoned for immediate action. +But over the sudden hubbub, that cool voice at the window rang out +again: + +"Hif it's fight you want, Hi'll say we were expectin' you. There's ten +of us 'ere, hall armed--" + +A derisive voice was heard in answer. "We'll see about that, my buck, +pretty--soon--" + +"Men! Hi've got a brace of six-shooters 'ere in my 'and. The first of +you as comes into the light gets a couple of 'oles drilled into 'is +hinside, neat and clean." + +Having launched this threat from his inky window to gain a little time, +Henry silently withdrew, flung downstairs and broke into the study, his +scrape and bow forgotten, to inquire whether either of the gentlemen +had, in Gawd's mercy, hanythink that would shoot. + +His master, whose well-kept hands were opening and shutting by his side, +did not answer. + +"No," said Varney, "I am unarmed." + +"Heven without a gun, sir," said Henry to Stanhope, and his look was not +such as a servant wears to his master, "we could lick a harmy of them +chaps." + +"We could never do it!" cried Mr. Stanhope shrilly. + +The shouting outside, though still a discreet distance back, grew more +articulate. Very fearful were their menaces. + +"Come out, Stanhope! Your time's come!" + +"We'll string yer to a tree, yer----" + +"Fellers, let's burn the damn rat out!" + +Stanhope's face went from white to pale green. He steadied himself +against the table with a hand that quivered, and looked at Varney. + +"It's--it's you they want," he said. + +"O my Gawd," cried Henry and put his face into his hands. + +"Yes," said Varney, averting his eyes also, "it's I they want." And he +started for the door. + +But Henry, who had noted the marked resemblance between the two men and +had caught faint glimmerings of what these strange things meant, barred +his way with an immortal rejoinder. + +"Hif you please, sir, Stanhope was the name they called." + +Varney gave a tired laugh. His terrible headache made him chafe at any +prolonging of the scene. Moreover, it made rational thought difficult, +twisting common-sense into fanciful shapes. It seemed to him an +unendurable thing that he should protect himself under the wing of such +a man as Stanhope; and the thought of fierce action drew him like a +lodestone. + +"You're a good fellow, Henry," he said quietly. "However, your master +and I agree perfectly." + +But at that moment, the small window at the back of the room, which no +one had thought to fasten, flew open and a man slipped nimbly through +it--a big, hard-breathing, iron-faced man, with perspiration streaming +rivers down his sun-tanned cheeks. + +Mr. Stanhope, with a weak exclamation, moved so as to bring the table +between himself and the intruder. Varney's eyes grew suddenly anxious. + +"Thank God, you're safe, Larry!" gasped Peter, looking hurriedly about +him, and characteristically asking no questions. "Four of us! +Magnificent! We can hold this room for a year against those drunken +sheep...." + +The din outside grew deafening. One man, braving Henry's threat, had +made a bolt across the star-lit space to the house, and no shot had rung +out from the upstairs window. Others had instantly followed, and the +little front porch now echoed under many feet. Yet, boisterous as they +were, the mobbers seemed to hesitate at taking the front door at a rush, +as though fearful of what reception might await them in the dark and +silent hall beyond. + +But now a stone crashed through a front window downstairs, and a man's +voice rang out suddenly so close that it seemed to be inside the parlor: + +"One minute to come out fair in the open, Stanhope, or we'll set a light +to this house, so help us God!" + +Mr. Stanhope gave a low cry. "Call to them, Henry!" he ordered, wildly. +"Quick! Tell them I'm coming out this minute." + +Henry, his back against the door, did not stir. + +"_Hare_ you goin' out, sir?" + +"No," said Varney, "he isn't. But I am." + +Peter came further into the pretty room, impatient eyes fixed on Varney. +"What fool's talk is this?" he demanded roughly. "Nobody is going out. +We four--" + +Another loud crash of broken glass drowned him out. In Varney's eye the +look of anxiety had deepened. He understood everything at a glance. +Adroit proddings of a few poor Hackleys, some cheap liquor, the word +passed to Maginnis as from a friend--this was how the boss of Hunston +had plotted to set his heel upon Reform and stamp it out forever. He +came three steps back into the room, sternly. + +"You were a monumental fool to let them send you here, Peter--" + +But the swelling tumult without made parley out of the question. + +"No time for talk!" roared Peter. "It's fight now--before they are in on +us! Lights out--and to the front, all of us!" + +"Right hoh!" cried Henry, man to man, and ran out the door. + +"No, no!" protested Mr. Stanhope thickly, "it is n't fair--" + +Peter wheeled and looked at him, personally, for the first time. He had +recognized him instantly, and now when he saw what he saw on that sickly +green face, his fine eyes hardened. + +"Four, I said? I see there are only three men here. No matter--three +good ones are more than enough. Larry, stay here! I'll take the front +door--the man the front windows--" + +But Varney blocked his way to the door with a face more resolute than +his own. + +"Stand back, Peter. We'll do nothing of the sort. Those are Ryan's men +out there. They don't want Mr. Stanhope--you know that. I don't like +this place anyhow--I'm going to get out--" + +"I'll sizzle in hell if you do!" bellowed Peter, and violently pinioned +his arms. + +But Stanhope, clutching at the chance, struck again for the safety of +his skin. "He ought to go," he cried swiftly. "It is n't my +quarrel--don't you see? Let go his arm there--you bully!--let him go!" + +The shock of that, curiously, surprised Peter into complying. He +dropped Varney's arms, turned swiftly to the author and fixed him with a +look for which, alone, another man would have cried for his blood. "Did +I hear you aright?" he said in an oddly still voice. "Do I understand +you to suggest that he be sent out there alone?" + +Mr. Stanhope shrank before that look, but this was the utmost concession +to it. + +"It's not my quarrel," he said moistening his lips--and suddenly, +glancing over Peter's shoulder, his eyes lit with a frightened gleam of +triumph. "It's he they--" + +Over the shouting a single hoarse cry rang out very close at hand. + +"Curse you for the cowardliest dog God ever made!" cried Peter, his +passion breaking its thin veil of calmness like a bullet. "If you +interfere in this, you'll not hide afterward where I'll not find you. +Larry! You'll--" Peter turned and broke off short with an exclamation +which was a good deal like a groan. + +Varney was not there. Taking advantage of Peter's momentary distraction, +he had slipped through the door and fled down the hall. + +Shaken with the rushing sense of his friend's danger, Peter started +wildly for the door. But in that fraction of a second, the lamp on the +center table was blown suddenly out and he found himself in inky +darkness. At the same moment something thrust itself dexterously between +his moving legs and he fell heavily to the floor. Falling he struck out +blindly, and his whirling fist collided with something warm and soft. +The next instant he was up and groping madly for the door, his sense of +direction all gone from him. But the author lay where he had fallen, +quite still, and, for the moment, afraid no longer. + +The moment's gain, however, was all that Stanhope needed, though it was +no more. In the dark hall where a single candle burned, Varney had met +Henry. The instant before, a man's head and shoulders had protruded +suddenly through the broken-in parlor window, and Henry, waiting +patiently in the shadow of the wall had flatted him to the floor with a +heavy chair, which broke in his hands. Then he heard swift footsteps in +the hall, and divining what had happened, bounded out. + +"Stand clear, man!" cried Varney loudly. "I'm going out." + +A prolonged shouting indicated that the promise was heard with approval +outside. But not so with Henry, who closed in on him fiercely, crying: +"Not hon your bloomin' life, you don't--harskin' your pardon, sir!" + +Varney, however, was a thing of nerves and passion now, all energy and +muscle and concentrated purpose. He shook the man off like a rat, and +the next moment burst open the front door. + +All this had happened far more quickly than it can be set down. Five +minutes had hardly passed since Henry's first challenge had rung from +the upstairs window. This would have been ample time to carry the house +by storm, front and back, had the invaders had the leadership and wit; +but these things they lacked. They were still massed on the front porch, +pell-mell, in a turbulent group, ramping, raging, thirsty for action, +but as yet ineffective; though one of them had at that moment set a +match to a torch of newspapers and kindling wood. Delay had loosed the +hunter's instinct in the half-drunken band: it broke into flame at sight +of the quarry. Varney had scarcely shown himself in the half-opened door +when some one struck him a savage blow on the chin that sent him reeling +backwards. + +He had come out to them with no plan, no sense of hostility, and only +because, in his disturbed mood, he despised Stanhope so utterly that he +would take no protection from him, or give him any share in his own +troubles. But at that blow, a demon sprang to life in him which knew no +law but an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. His left arm shot out +like a piston at the dim flushed face before him, and the face bobbed +downward out of sight. + +At the same moment, the heavy back of a chair in supple hands descended +out of space behind him with a thud; and a great tall fellow, staggering +backward with the unexpected pain of that stroke, for the moment +obstructed his comrades. For Henry had followed where he could not lead, +and now ranged himself joyously at Varney's side in the narrow +threshold. + +The setback, however, was trivial. In the next breath, they closed round +him with a great shout, thrusting Henry violently to one side. Three men +were required for this latter task, who so missed the real sport of the +night. Another was caught when the front porch fell in with a crash, and +was pulled out with a broken leg an hour later. But enough remained. +Varney was instantly lost in a struggling and kicking hurly-burly of +arms and legs, and was borne with them in a rush down the short flight +of steps to the lawn. All, of course, could not reach him. So it +happened that two or three, on the outskirts of the tossing group, heard +the feet of reinforcements in the hallway and wheeled at that sound. +Even in the faint light, Peter's great size made him easily +recognizable; and a young man of Hare's party named Bud Spinks, who +admired him intensely and had partaken of his hospitality in the town, +was still enough himself to cry out: + +"Keep away, Mr. Maginnis! This ain't your fuss!" + +"You'll see!" shouted Peter, and cleared the wrecked porch at a bound. + +In his dash through the darkness for the door he had stumbled over the +fragments of Henry's broken chair. One stout leg of it remained in his +hand now. Peter's prowess with that weapon has passed into legend in +Hunston. They tell to this day of a great giant, eight feet tall, +watchful eyes in all parts of him, impervious to all blows, +hundred-handed and every hand like the kick of a mule, who met ten men +almost single-handed that night and routed them utterly. + +He was the biggest man in Hunston, the strongest and the most terrible +in anger. Bud Spinks, because he did not know whose fuss that was, felt +the bite of that anger, and toppled beneath it like a sapling under the +woodman's axe. So did poor old Orrick, who had met the others on the +road and returned with them, and who was the only man of them all that +Peter recognized. Two of those who were looking after Henry, having laid +him to rest by this time, rushed Peter from behind. One of them struck +him heavily on the point of the jaw as he swung around, and was +astonished that he did not appear to notice it. The next instant he fell +senseless under a blow that crushed through his upraised fists as a +hammer might go through a drumhead. One Peter hit a glancing blow upon +the shoulder, and as long as he lived he could never raise that arm +above his head again. + +Thus Peter was free to fling himself on that violently swaying mass +which he knew held Varney. Even those on the further side knew precisely +the moment he struck it. The whole body quivered with the shock of that +impact. Those nearer that chair leg and that equally terrible fist had +more personal testimony to his presence. There was no resisting either. +They got in many blows upon him, as his bruised body and discolored face +showed next morning. But he never once faltered. To himself, with a +precious moment lost back in the study and a heart afire to know if he +were yet in time, his progress seemed desperately slow; yet he cleft a +path for himself as by magic. + +Knocking some down, thrusting others aside or frightening them away, he +found his answer at last with sudden directness. A big raw-boned fellow, +fiercely drunk and working with his feet at something on the ground, +wheeled and struck passionately at Peter's face. A blow like a cannon +shot was his reply, and, for the second time under the impact of that +fist, Jim Hackley (though Peter did not know him) measured his length +upon the ground. Two or three scattering ones, still up, were hovering +in Peter's rear with a discreetness which, it chanced was now quite +superfluous. For at that instant, he caught sight of his friend, and +immediately all the fight went out of him and his knees shook. + +Varney lay anyhow on the trodden grass, dappled with blood, his head +curved fantastically beneath his shoulders. Another had gone down with +him and lay half over him, a long arm locked about him in a curious +gesture that oddly suggested protection. This one lay face downward, but +Varney, as it happened, was on his back, and his upturned face looked in +the dusky night the image of death. + +Peter dropped his club with a strangled cry, and went down on his hands +and knees. No reassuring flutter met the hand which he thrust inside the +trampled bosom. That heart seemed stilled. He gathered the limp form in +his arms like a child's and turned a dreadful face upon the beaten +fragments of the mobbing-party. + +"By God!" he shouted passionately. "You've killed him!" + +They faded away into the darkness, such of them as could walk, sobered +by the horror of that cry, frightened more at that face than at all the +blows which had gone before. + +So Peter stood alone in the little lawn, dark figures of his enemies +stretched here and there about him, his great arms clutching the inert +body of his friend, groaning his pain to the four winds. But the next +instant, flying hoof-beats sounded on the road, raced near, and a +two-horse buggy, overloaded with men, pulled up sharply at the gate. A +very small pale man, in a frock-coat plastered with dirt, and stuttering +violently as he shouted Peter's name, tore up the path. + +"You're too late, Hare!" cried Peter wildly. "They've killed him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +RELATING HOW VARNEY FAILS TO DIE; AND WHY SMITH REMAINED IN HUNSTON; AND +HOW A RECEPTION IS PLANNED FOR MR. HIGGINSON + + +Thus it happened that the southbound local, which went through at +eight-ten, did not acquire Varney as a passenger that night; and his old +friend, Elbert Carstairs, did not meet his emissary at nine-thirty, or +indeed at any hour that evening. But two travelers for New York did +board the local at Hunston, and both of them, as it chanced, repaired to +the car provided for smokers, each for his own reasons. + +One of them straightway lighted a long cigar, which a gentleman had +given him that morning, doubtless unwisely, for he was not above twelve +years old. The other, who happened to sit in the seat just before him, +did not smoke. He was rendered conspicuous by the fact that he wore no +hat, and by the deadly pallor of his face, relieved only by a reddening +bump beneath the right eye. His clothes also were dirty and disheveled +till he seemed scarcely the superior in elegance of the little +ragamuffin behind him. + +So that it was not surprising that the amiable conductor, standing by +for the tickets and struck by the obvious likeness, should have +observed: + +"Your son's pretty young to be a-smokin' seegars, ain't he?" + +Mr. Stanhope, not knowing what this remark meant, and caring less, +answered with a cold stare, though inwardly he cursed the man for his +fatuous impertinence. That done, he relapsed dully into his own +thoughts, which were all of the house he had scurried from, terrified by +Peter's cry, half an hour before.... + +In that house, in Mr. Stanhope's own deserted bed, Varney lay at his +ease, as quiet as a statued man. Over the bed, industriously at work, +hung the keen-faced town doctor, whom Hare had gotten with a speed which +passed all understanding. At the foot of the bed stood Peter Maginnis, +his face like the face of a carven image. + +At the very moment when the garrulous conductor was trying to foist off +poor little Tommy Orrick upon Mr. Stanhope, the old doctor raised his +head. + +"He's not dead _yet_. An excellent chance I should say." + +Peter's face did not change. His hand tightened on the foot-board till +his nails whitened. It was as though he had pulled a signal cord which +ran unseen under the bed-clothes and rung a mysterious bell in some +remote corner of his friend's head. Varney immediately opened one eye, +let it rest on Peter and said in a clear voice: + +"You all right, Peter?" + +That done he relapsed immediately into unconsciousness again. The doctor +took out a large handkerchief, wiped his brow and smiled. Peter, his +quick relief like a storm of joy, went downstairs to tell his friends +of the Reform Committee, and do a thousand other things. + +By nine o'clock the town was ringing with the wild story, and in the +still watches of the later night the telegraph flung it to far places, +to be read in wonder next morning in a million homes. Overnight, the +great eye of the country turned like an unwinking searchlight upon the +dingy town by the Hudson where happened to dwell Mrs. Elbert Carstairs +and her only daughter, Mary. And all the world read how two men who were +doubles had strangely met in a lonely house with a drunken mob outside; +how one of them, who had earned the mob, turned the other out to face +it; how the son of a famous captain of industry had shamed the +Berserkers in his passionate muscularity: how one "double" had fled to +save his skin and how the other, battered almost beyond recognition, now +lay trembling between life and death. + +In Hunston, there followed next day a whirl of police activity, of which +the net results were tame in the extreme. Of all the fierce band which +had stormed the house of Mr. Stanhope, only poor old Orrick and Mr. +British, the bookseller--he who had been pulled out senseless from under +the beams of the porch--were identified. Mr. British flatly and +resolutely declined to testify as to who his comrades were, and old Sam +Orrick, terrified though he was by prospective horrors of the law, +loyally perjured his immortal soul by swearing that the men were all +strangers to him and that he believed them to be visitors from another +city. + +The count against these two proved to be only assault and battery, +though for three days and nights it was a toss of the coin whether they +would not have to answer for a graver charge. Peter's joy had soon +proved premature and the doctor's smile faded in unexpected +bewilderment. The sick man did not improve in the least. Delirium +followed hard upon deadly stupor and there seemed no rousing him from +either. + +The yellow cottage with the trampled flower-beds and smashed windows, +which looked so bare-faced with its front porch shaved away, had passed +to Peter for the moment by right of conquest. In it everything that +conducted to the comfort of ill man had been quickly and lavishly +installed. Everybody was wonderfully kind and thoughtful. Mrs. Marne, +who reached the cottage with Mrs. Carstairs half an hour after the +doctor the first night, and had done wonders before the nurses arrived, +was simply invaluable. Hare came night and morning, horribly formal and +ill at ease, begging for something to do. Flowers and inquiries from +total strangers were an hourly occurrence. From Charlie Hammerton came a +quart of magnificent Scotch, followed on the second day by a pile of +clippings from the _Gazette's_ exchanges which must have gratified the +injured man extremely if only he had been able to read them. His own +leading article, headed "Laurence Varney, Hero," Editor Hammerton +modestly suppressed. By the hand of sad-faced McTosh came a hideous +floral piece, in fact, a red, white, and blue star, bearing the label +"From the sorrowing crew of the _Cypriani_." Mrs. Carstairs, whose +emotions at the time were hardly fully understood in the yellow cottage, +called daily and sent beautiful roses and chicken jelly. The roses faded +and the chicken jelly was considerably enjoyed by the nurses. But from +Mrs. Carstairs's daughter, whose filial relations had invoked all these +things, there came neither flower nor word. + +The fight had taken place upon a Thursday night. On Friday, the Hunston +doctor, at his wits' end, had asked for a consultation. On Saturday, the +great doctor from the city had spent an hour in the sick-room, first +examining the patient in a bodily way, and then prodding him with a +tireless stream of questions, however futile--anything to make him talk. +At the end of that time he had whispered awhile with the town doctor and +drawn Peter into the study downstairs. + +"What's the matter with him, Mr. Maginnis?" he asked abruptly. + +"Matter?" echoed Peter. "Wasn't he beaten to a pulp?" + +"Kicks don't kill a man with that kind of physique. What has he got on +his mind?" + +"I don't know," said Peter, miserably. "The last time I saw him--" + +"Find out," said the great doctor, briefly. "If you don't, he may die. +He seems to have had a shock of some kind. You must work upon that line. +There is nothing the matter with his body that he can't throw off. But +he will not get well unless you put the idea into his head that he +_must_." + +And glancing at his watch, he bowed stiffly, and was whirled away to +the station. + +Peter was utterly at a loss. He had no idea what had taken Varney up the +road to Stanhope's that afternoon, much less of any shock that could +conceivably have come to him. But he set himself to find out. By the +next morning, partly through inquiry, partly through patching two and +two together, he had worked out a theory. Guesswork, of course, was +rather dangerous in a delicate matter such as this; but the doctor's +report after breakfast had been the very worst yet. Peter never +faltered. He picked up his hat from the study table, in front of which +he had been figuring these things out, and started down the hall. + +Mrs. Marne was sitting quietly on the bottom step of the stairway, her +dark head in her hands; and Peter was glad to see her. + +"I've found out a little about that," said Peter, in a low voice. "I +believe it was--to see Miss Carstairs that he came up the road that +day." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Marne. "I have heard that too." + +"She struck me," said Peter, "as a nice little girl. Probably she +doesn't understand the situation. I am going to see her now." + +"She won't see you," said Mrs. Marne. + +"Yes, she will," said Peter quietly, and started for the door. + +But Mrs. Marne caught him by the hand, protectingly, like an elder +sister, and drew him into the parlor and shut the door. + +Half an hour later Peter came out and went up the stairs. At the +landing he paused to take off his shoes, and went on up in his stocking +feet. + +It was Sunday morning, near eleven o'clock, a brilliant morning all sun +and wind. The far church bells of Hunston were ringing on the clear air +like chimes from another world. Never afterward could Peter hear the +Sunday bells without thinking of that moment. At the door, he met Miss +Nevin, the day-nurse, coming out. She said she was going to telephone +the doctor. + +Peter slipped into the darkened room and shut the door noiselessly +behind him. After a moment, he tipped over to the bed and sat down in +the nurse's chair, silently. The bed looked very fresh and white and +unrumpled, and that was because the injured man had for two days lain +almost wholly quiet. The thin coverlet defined his long frame perfectly. +Many bandages about the limbs and trunk made it look grotesquely bumpy +and misshapen. One arm, wrapped from shoulder to finger-tip was outside +the coverlet; now and then the hand, which was muffled large as a +boxing-glove, moved a little. Cloths ran slantwise about chin, brow, and +head, leaving only breathing space and one eye uncovered. + +Presently, as he became more used to the darkness, Peter observed that +the eye was open and regarding him incuriously: and he started in some +confusion. "Do you feel much pain now, old chap?" he began rather +huskily. + +"Pain?" repeated Varney, vaguely. "No, I don't feel any pain." + +"No pain! That's fine!" said Peter with lying cheerfulness, for he knew +that this deadness to sensation was the worst feature in the case. +"That--left leg is rather badly bruised, it seems. I was a little afraid +_that_ might be troubling you some." + +Silence. + +"Did Miss Nevin show you all your flowers? They 've just been pouring in +all day every day. We could turn florists to-day without spending a +penny for stock. Couldn't we, Larry, eh?" + +"Yes," said Varney laboriously. "We could." + +"Everybody has been so kind," continued Peter, desperately, "that upon +my word it's hard to pick and choose. If I were asked to say who had +really been kindest--let me see--yes, I'd name--Mrs. Carstairs. Flowers +and something to eat, some little dainty or delicacy, twice a day. The +fact is, old chap, to put it plainly, though I don't want to distress +you, you know--she is blaming herself about this. Blaming herself +greatly." + +"She oughtn't to do that," said Varney after a time. + +"Of course she ought n't to. Yet it's natural enough in a way. Of +course, I'm blaming myself, too--like the mischief--I'd had so many +warnings, you know. Little Hare is blaming himself. And Mr. +Carstairs--poor old fellow! I'll show you his letters when--the light's +a little better for reading. They're fine, honestly. Of course, he +wanted to come on right away, but I wouldn't let him." + +Silence again. + +"So you see how many of us," continued Peter, nearing his awkward +climax, "have been worried, _personally_, about this--trouble. And how +much, well--how much--happiness is bound up in your getting well. And by +the way--I declare I nearly forgot Miss Carstairs--I declare!" + +There was a long silence, which Peter resolved not to break. Through the +shuttered window, the distant bells chimed faintly into the room. The +sick man's stray arm moved restlessly on the coverlet, but otherwise he +lay quite still. + +At length Varney said: "When did you see Miss Carstairs? She +hasn't--been here--?" + +But poor Peter's errand was not so easy as that. He had no glad shaft of +promise with which to pierce that deadly Nessus-coat of apathy. + +"She couldn't come here, old chap," said Peter, very gravely. "You +hadn't heard, of course. Miss Carstairs is very ill." + +"Miss Carstairs is very ill," repeated Varney, not inquiringly, but like +a child saying over a lesson. + +"Awfully ill," said Peter encouragingly. "It seems that she came home +Thursday night a little after seven, looking very pale and badly, but +insisting that there was nothing the matter. She sat upstairs with her +mother until about eight, when somebody called her down to the +telephone. Well, she didn't come back. So after a while Mrs. Carstairs +sent down to find out why. The maid found her in the hall--in fact, on +the floor, I believe. She had fainted, you know. Yes--that was it. +Fainted dead away--poor little girl." + +After what seemed an eternity of waiting, Varney asked: "What was +it--do you know? At the telephone?" + +"Yes. It was Mrs. Marne. She called up Miss Carstairs in the first +excitement of--of your accident, it seems, and I'm afraid she gave a +very exaggerated and alarming account, you know. They put her to bed," +continued Peter clearing his throat, "and there she's been ever since. +The great shock, you know. Mrs. Marne saw her this morning--the first +time she had been admitted. It's all quite sad. Quite sad. We'll talk of +it again when--you're feeling a bit stronger." + +Varney, who had lain like a statue for two days and nights, had begun +moving a little under the coverlet, stirring first one swathed leg, then +the other, as though seeking vainly to shift his position. Now he said +at once: "I want to hear now." + +Peter gave a deep sigh. He thought, and rightly, that this was the best +thing that had happened yet. + +"Well, it's all very strange, Larry. When I said that it was the shock +of the accident that had made her ill, I did not tell the whole truth. +It seems that she is suffering from a terrible hallucination about it. +She feels in some strange way that the responsibility for all this--is +hers. She told Mrs. Marne that she was responsible for your being on the +road that night, and that she had been unfair about something or other, +and that but for that the--trouble would never have happened. I don't +pretend to understand it. But feeling as she does now--if anything were +to--to go wrong, the poor child would count herself--she would count +herself--" + +"Don't!" said Varney very clearly and distinctly. + +His face looked all at once so ghastly that Peter's heart stopped +beating. He thought in a horrible flash that the end had come, and that +he, Peter Maginnis, had brought it by tearing at the worst wound his +friend had. His clumsy diplomacy fell from him as at the last trump. He +dropped on his knees beside the bed with a groan. + +"For God's sake, Larry, don't leave _that_ mark to a child like her. +Don't give us all _that_ sorrow to carry to our graves--" + +But Varney had pulled his arms free and was clutching wildly at his +head-bandages with heavily swathed fingers. + +"You needn't worry about me," he said in a sharp anguished voice. "Great +Scott! What's--what's wrong with my _head_! It's killing me." + +He recovered with a speed which puzzled the old Hunston doctor even more +than his previous lethargy had done. Five days later he was well enough +to be lifted downstairs to the small back piazza, and here he lay +blanketed up in a reclining chair for half the sunny afternoon. + +A bundle of letters and telegrams lay on his covered knees; and going +slowly through them, he came presently to one from Elbert Carstairs, +arrived only that morning: + + "MY DEAR BOY: + + Words are feeble things at their best, + and I know of none that would convey to you my great + joy at the news that you are out of danger. By the same + mail, I have learned that my other dear sick one in Hunston + is quite herself again, and I say to God in gratitude + upon my knees that my cup is full." + +A pause in the reading here. The long hand of the nurse's clock on the +window-sill had crawled half around the dial before Varney raised the +letter again from his blanketed lap: + + "There is much in my heart to tell you, much to beg your + forgiveness for, but I shall keep it to say to you face to + face. Just now the keenest point in my grief is that all + this suffering I have brought upon you has been worse + than unnecessary. Light has come to me in these sleepless + nights, and I see now that there was a much better + way to seek what I sought, a far happier path." + +The letter slipped down upon the swathed knees again, and he lay staring +at the blown and sunny tree-tops. Presently the door at his side opened; +a man started to come through it, stopped short, and stood motionless on +the threshold. + +Varney slowly turned his head. In the doorway, to his dim surprise, +stood Mr. Stanhope's man, Henry, bowing, unobtrusive, apologetic, ready +to efface himself at a gesture like the well-trained servant he was. + +"Why--is that you, Henry?" + +"Harskin' your pardon for the hintrusion, sir," said Henry with a wooden +face. "I didn't know you were 'ere, sir. 'Opin' you are feeling improved +to-day, sir--if you please, Hi'll withdraw--" + +"Henry," said Varney, "that is no way for you to speak to me--after the +way you stood up for me that night. Come here." + +And he disentangled from his covers and held out a rather maimed-looking +hand. + +Then he saw the soul of the man whip through the livery of the menial +like a knife, and Henry, stumbling forward with a working face, clasped +that hand proudly in his strong white one: only he dropped on one knee +to do it, as if to show that, though gentlemen might be pleased to show +him kindness now and then, he perfectly understood that he was not as +they. + +"Ho, sir," he broke out in a tone very different from his +well-controlled voice of service, "I never seen a pluckier thing done, +nor a gamer fight put up. You make me too proud, sir, with your +'and--man to man ... I was shamed, sir, till I couldn't bear it when I +came to and learned that I 'ad not stayed with you, sir, to the end. +Three of them closed in on me, sir, and harskin' your pardon, sir, I was +whippin' hof 'em to standstill when one of them tripped me from be'ind, +sir,--" + +"Stand up, Henry," said Varney, rather agitated, "like the man you are." + +Henry stood up, with a jerky "Thank you, sir," striving with momentary +ill-success to get a lackey's mask back upon that quivering face. + +"I'll always remember you," said Varney with some difficulty, "as a good +and brave man. I don't think I'll ever forget how you disobeyed an +order--to try to save me. And now tell me--what became of your master?" + +"'E's in the village, sir," said Henry rather bothered by his throat +"I'm expecting 'im in any moment, sir--" + +"In the village?" repeated Varney, surprised. "Mr. Stanhope is in +Hunston?" + +"_Mr. Stanhope_!" said Henry with an insufferable contemptuousness for +which he at once apologized. "Harskin' your pardon, sir--I thought you +inquired for my master. Mr. Stanhope, I 'ave 'eard, sir, has sailed for +Europe." + +"Well, who's your master, then?" + +"Mr. Maginnis is my master, sir." + +Varney deliberated on this, and slowly smiled. "Well, you've got a good +one, Henry." + +"Thank you, sir. That's 'im now, sir. I 'ear 'is motor in the road. If +you'll excuse me, sir--I'll go and let 'im in." + +And he bowed and went away, only pausing in the entry to attend a moment +to his blurred eyes with the back of a supple hand. + +Peter stepped out into the porch with a cheery greeting and dropped into +a rocking-chair, looking worn and tired. The instant his heavy anxiety +over Varney was relieved, he had thrown himself back into the fight for +reform with a desperate vigor which entirely eclipsed all his previous +efforts. + +"We-ell," he said in answer to Varney's question, "we're humping +along--just humping along. Time's so confoundedly short, though. You +know, Larry, this business the other night is proving the best card +we've got. Fact. I haven't tried to tell you how worked up the people +have been about your--accident, and how most of them don't stand for it +for a minute. It's pretty well understood around town that politics was +back of it all in some way, though nobody can state a single fact, and +I've scoured the town for evidence without finding a scrap. Anyway, it's +the solemn fact, and the committee can prove it, that that feeling is +bringing over a lot of votes that we never could have reached otherwise +with a long distance 'phone." + +"Praise be that they're coming over, anyhow." + +"This fight," continued Peter, absorbedly, "is confoundedly interesting +because it is typical of what's going on all over the country. Hunston +is just a dingy little microcosm of the whole United States of America. +You can't blame these poor beggars here much, afraid of their jobs as +they are. It takes courage to make a break for virtue when the devil's +holding you by your bread and meat. But--well, I'd hate like the +mischief to lose, particularly since we've managed to come in for such a +beautiful lot of lime-light. You know this fight is being watched all +over the country, since that trouble? And hang it, it does make a +difference when the Associated Press carries half a column about you +every night. Do you remember that first night in Hunston, Larry," he +continued, "when you said that our part in the town's affairs must be +that of quiet onlookers only? Quiet onlookers! And now everybody in the +country is playing quiet onlookers on us. Our names are household words +in California, and I'm credibly informed that they're naming babies +after you all through the middle West. Funny, isn't it?" + +Varney assented with a laugh. Presently he said rather constrainedly: +"Peter--I want you to tell me a little about that night. Who was +caught?" + +Peter named the two. "They wouldn't testify," he explained, "and I +couldn't. Old Orrick was the only man I spotted. He will get punished +for assault. I don't see that they've got a case against British. He was +knocked out when the porch fell, and he hadn't done a thing then, except +yell probably. You can't hang a man for yelling in this State." + +"No. Did you--you--was anybody killed?" + +"Bless your heart, no!" cried Peter. "Why, it was only a little old +kicking-match and hair-pulling, you know, hardly worse than a college +rush." + +Varney looked suddenly and strangely relieved. + +"I'm mighty glad to hear that," he said, and presently added: "Have you +seen--Smith?" + +"Smith! He went to New York some days ago. I remember--it was the very +day you pulled up and got well. Why, what about him?" + +"Didn't you know? He was there that night," said Varney. "Right in the +thick of it, helping me." + +"Helping _you_! Smith!" + +Varney nodded. "The minute they closed in on me," he said after a +moment, "and we all bunched together, I felt that there was somebody in +there fighting on my side. Pretty soon I heard a voice in my ear, it +said: '_Keep on your pins as long as you can: these dogs'll trample you +if they get you down_.' I said, 'Is that you, Smith?' and he laughed +and said, '_Still on my studies_.' Then somebody hit me over the head +with something, and I went down and he went with me. He had one arm +around me, I remember. I've been thinking, ever since I could think at +all, that they might--might have finished him. I believe he saved my +life, Smith did." + +"Well--bully for him!" said Peter slowly, much impressed. "What on earth +struck him to do that, do you suppose? Well, well! I'll certainly look +that old boy up in New York and shake him by the hand." + +There was a considerable silence. At just the moment when Varney was +about to put another question, Peter opened his mouth and answered it. + +"However," he said, an irrepressible note of irritation creeping into +his honest voice, "even that was not the strangest thing that happened +that night. Not by a long shot." + +Varney's gaze fixed with sudden interest. "Higginson? You don't mean to +say that he turned up?" + +"I do. And got away with it again--confound his soul!" + +"What happened? Any more dirty work? Did anything get into the papers?" + +"No--oh, no! You've got that sized up wrong, Larry. He's no yellow +journalist or anything like that. He's only the slickest underground +worker this town ever saw--with his confounded apologetic, +worried-looking mask of a face. As for more dirty work--well, I guess +the bloodshed the other night scared him up so--" + +"But go on and tell me! Where'd you see him? What did you say and--" + +"Sitting in our front parlor, if you please, like a dear old friend of +the family." + +The remembrance of the way he had been affronted and outwitted chafed +Peter's spirit uncontrollably. He rose and began pacing up and down the +little porch, hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets. + +"About an hour after we put you to bed," he exploded, "I slipped +downstairs to tell Hare to keep everybody off the place. However, a lot +of people had already come in. I glanced in at the parlor and it seemed +full of them--Mrs. Carstairs and Mrs. Marne--they were the first to get +here after Hare's delegation--Hammerton and another man from the +_Gazette_, the committeemen, and several I'd never laid eyes on before. +Well, there in a corner, looking like a hired mourner at a nigger +funeral, sat that fellow Higginson. You could have knocked me flat with +a pin feather. I'm as sure as I stand here that it was he who worked up +that mob for Ryan, and the whole dirty scheme--and then coming around +with his tongue in his cheek to inquire after the victim! Can you beat +that gall?" + +"Not easily. What happened?" + +"They asked me how you were. I told'em. Then I said before the +room-full: 'I was very sorry to find you out this afternoon, Mr. +Higginson, when I called at your hotel.' The fellow looked white as a +sheet and mumbled something I couldn't catch. Well--I couldn't smash him +there before all the women, so I said: 'Please don't go away this time +until I see you. I'm most anxious to have a little private conversation +with you.' Oh, of course that was a mistake--I hate to think about it! +But--well, I was a good deal worried just then," he explained, rather +sheepishly, "and fact is, for the minute I wasn't thinking very much +about Higginson. I needn't add that he had sneaked when I came down +again. Had the cheek to leave behind a message with Hare saying he +regretted to miss me, but felt it his duty to escort the ladies home." + +Varney, though he had grounds for animosity which Peter never even +guessed, laughed aloud. But it was a brief laugh, which quickly faded. + +"And he's never been seen or heard of from that day to this? Well, for +my part," he went on, rather constrainedly, "I'm almost ready to believe +the man's a myth--a mere personification of evil--an allegorical name +for the powers of darkness--" + +"Myth!" cried Peter. "You'll see! Why, he's certain to turn up again, +Larry--absolutely certain. You couldn't keep him away with a flock of +cannon. If he doesn't come before, it's dead sure that he'll appear +among us again on election day--four days from now--just to see the +results of his pretty work. And when he does--" + +"Well?" said Varney, amused through his own heartsoreness by Peter's +vehemence. "When he does?" + +"I've got two men watching every train, day and night," said Peter. +"When Higginson sets foot in this town again, one man trails him, and +the other runs for me.... Well, I'm a generous and forbearing man, +Larry, and I recall that you havn't had much fun here. I'll--yes, hang +it all!--I'll bring the old rogue to you, dead or alive, and stand by in +silence while you speak him your little piece." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +IN WHICH VARNEY, AFTER ALL, REDEEMS HIS PROMISE + +From the roaring ovation which followed Peter's brief remarks there +emerged again the sudden, clean-cut silence. Mayor Hare--Mayor by the +narrowest margin in the heaviest vote ever cast in that town--stood upon +the improvised little stand and looked out over the packed square. He +rested one small hand upon the gay-clothed rail, and many people saw +that it quivered. The showy "demonstration" of Peter's planning, +brilliantly launched the moment the count was announced--the imported +brass-band, the triumphal procession with the bugles, the streamers and +the flag-wrapped carriages, and now the rostrum ready set and waiting in +the heart of the dense crowd--all had taken him completely by surprise. +His face showed it; yet he was not thinking of that exactly. All at once +the Mayor's mind had harked back to another moment, not so many days +before, when he had stood in this square to make a speech; and at the +rushing thought of the great contrast between that moment and this, +there rose in him a sense of gratefulness so deep that it took palpable +form, and stuck, suffocatingly, in his throat. + +The square swam before his blinded eyes. He took off his glasses and +wiped them frankly. Stiff formality left him, without a nod at parting, +carrying along the "few remarks" he had nervously thrown together in his +Roman progress up Main Street. + +"The modesty of the man who has just addressed you," he began +unsteadily, "will deceive no one. You all know what I owe to him--what +our town owes to him. You all know that if I am almost too proud and too +happy to speak at all just now, it is because a kindly chance sent Mr. +Maginnis to Hunston." + +Cheers, more cheers, and yet again cheers; cheers running on and on as +though they never meant to stop; spontaneous waves of applause that +meant, what nearly all knew, that Maginnis personally had captured +Hunston, and that his efficiency with a chair-leg had reared him into a +kind of demi-god among certain rough fellows of the baser sort. + +The speaker was resuming, not yet through with his tributes. His eye +flitting over the shouting crowd had fallen upon a face. + +"I know that both honesty and logic were on the side which Mr. Maginnis, +coming here a stranger, elected to support. But honesty does not always +make a winning cause, nor does logic. What I may call sympathy is often +better than both. The splendid help that we got from Mr. Maginnis +received this supplement. Sympathy came to aid Reform. A brutal outrage +sullied the name of our town--an outrage which, there is sad reason to +believe, was born of politics. The victim of that outrage, and the hero +of that terrible night, is happily with us to-day.... I will not offend +him with any words of praise. But may I not say in the market-place what +is the truism of the committee-room ... that when this gentleman did +what he did, he brought to Reform the sympathy which ... has made me +Mayor of Hunston." + +Every eye followed the direction of the speaker's glance and his grave +bow; and by the chance of good position, it happened that nearly all +could see. Upon a dingy porch, a few yards up the Main Street side of +the square, stood a tall, young man leaning on a cane, a wide felt hat +shading a rather badly marked face. And--there was no possibility of any +mistake--it was Jim Hackley's porch that he stood upon, and--yes--it was +Jim Hackley himself, a sober and genial Jim Hackley, who stood by his +side, in intimate pose, and grinning somewhat sheepishly into the glare +of fame which suddenly enveloped him. + +What part Hackley had borne in the events to which the orator had +referred was never officially known, but it may be said without +exaggeration that there had been suspicions abroad against him. His +present friendliness with the victim of those events, therefore, seemed +the gauge and symbol of penitence and reconciliation. + +It was the first time that Hunston had seen Varney since the night he +was hurt, and the first time that most of Hunston had ever seen him. The +story of his deeds and his sufferings, doubtless considerably +embellished and known to every one, made him a figure of keen popular +interest, and the cheers and hand-clappings now were thunderous, +compelling him to lift his hat again and again. Some even started a +swift descent upon the Hackley residence with the evident intention of +carrying the young man to the stand on their shoulders. But Hackley came +down to his gate to meet them and buffeted them away, explaining loudly, +like an old friend and generally acknowledged sponsor: "He ain't up to +it to-day, boys! Stand back!" + +"Go on with your speech," said Peter in a fierce undertone to Hare. +"He's going to faint." + +"Let us give honor to whom honor is due," cried Hare, hastily, and so +resumed his remarks. + +Peter's melancholy prediction, though it spread quickly among the crowd +after Varney left the porch, was quite unfounded. Varney had not the +least idea of fainting. At Hare's tribute, which was as unexpected as he +felt it to be totally undeserved, and the sudden rain of eyes upon him, +an unaccountable dizziness had seized him, while he stood reluctantly +bowing; he had thrust out his hand and caught hold of the post. This +blackness passed as quickly as it had come. The next instant he felt as +fit a man as ever; and to the tender requests of his host, Mr. Hackley, +that he should withdraw into the house for a "leetle rest-up," he +returned a laughing refusal. For this was his last appearance in +Hunston, as well as his first in recent days, and very strongly did he +desire to make it testify to his warm interest in the town's great day +and the personal triumph of his friend, Peter Maginnis. + +What removed Varney so abruptly from the Hackley porch and the public +view was the sudden fulfilment of quite another prediction of Peter's: +the one about the return to Hunston of the gum-shod Mr. Higginson. + +The news came without warning. At just the moment when the Mayor +replunged into his interrupted oratory, Varney became aware that a low, +anxious voice behind him was insistently calling his name. He turned, +and saw the figure of a man standing in Hackley's entryway, just inside +the door; he had evidently slipped in from the rear; and now, catching +the young man's eye, he began mysteriously beckoning and making signs. + +"Kin I speak to you a minute, Mr. Varney?" he called in the same +dramatic whisper. + +Varney, in some surprise, advanced to the doorway and stepped inside the +entry after the stranger--a poorly dressed fellow with an unshaven chin +and a collarless neck. + +"Well? What do you want, my man? And how do you know my name?" + +At that the man gave the air of exploding, though his voice remained +only a whisper, at once apologetic and immensely reproachful. + +"_Know_ your _name_, sir! Why, _excuse_ me for usin' it so free, but I +guess there ain't nobody in Hunston don't know _you_, Mr. Varney! Why, +Mr. Varney, my six-year-old kid c'd pick you right out o' that crowd out +there, same as 't was her pa, what with seein' your picture in the +papers an' all, an' I guess there ain't anything you'd ever want in +_Hunston_ you couldn't have just for the trouble o' namin' it." + +The random assertion struck some of the blood from the young man's +cheek, but he said good-humoredly: "Well, I'm glad to hear it. But tell +me who you are, and what I can do for you." + +The man's face, which had grown rather loose and mobile, instantly +became business-like and alert. + +"I'm 'Lije Stobo, Mr. Varney--Hackley'll tell you. I was hired a week +ago by Mr. Maginnis to watch trains for a certain party kind of expected +to show up here." His voice, already very low, dropped several tones +lower, as he hurriedly went on: "Well, Mr. Varney, the party come in on +Number 14 just now. It ain't five minutes ago since he stepped down on +the deepo platform--disguised in some pretty good glad rags, he was, but +o' course we spotted him right off, and--" + +"Higginson?" + +The man nodded. "My partner was with me--Callery--and we shadows our +party to the Palace Hotel where he takes Room 41 and sneaks upstairs. +Callery's sitting in the lobby now, and I runs out to take the tip to +Mr. Maginnis--but Lord bless you, Mr. Varney--" He pointed out the open +door in the direction of the little speaker's stand where Peter sat +impregnably walled in on all sides by dense human masses. "It might be +an hour before I could get to him through _that_. I was up against it, +f'r he'd sure kill me if I let our party give us the slip again, and +then I heard 'em all cheerin' you, and thinks I, _there's_ my man, +and--" + +Varney interrupted gratefully but briskly. + +"You did exactly right, Mr. Stobo. I have long been anxious to see +Mr.--that is, this party. In fact," he added, putting on his hat with +significant firmness, "it is because of some business that I have with +this party that Mr. Maginnis asked you to look out for him." + +Mr. Stobo's eyes ardently approved the young man's readiness for +"trouble." + +"Well, _sir_--that's took a load off'n my mind, I tell you! I'll just +skip on--will I, Mr. Varney?--and try to get the tip to Mr. Maginnis, as +my orders was. He was _that set_ on interviewin' this here party--but +Lor', he'd give him to you, same's himself. Only--are you _sure_ you're +feelin' up to it to-day, Mr. Varney? If mebbe you'd let me'r Callery go +along now, just in case, y' know--" + +Varney gave an answer which Mr. Stobo found completely reassuring. At +the same time, he rapidly produced his pocket-book and pulled out a bill +of alluring complexion. + +"I owe you a great deal for bringing me this information, Mr. +Stobo--more than I can repay. But perhaps you would let me--" + +He stopped suddenly, for the man had started backing off down the +entryway, a dull unaccustomed color showing in his grimy face. + +"You didn't mean it, Mr. Varney! Why, how'd I look my missus in the +face--let alone myself--and tell her I took money off'n _you_--" + +He disappeared out of the back door, and Varney, feeling uncomfortable +and disproportionately touched, put his spurned bill back in his +pocket. Hackley, now perceiving that his guest's visitor was gone, +turned his back on the speechmaking and hurried forward solicitously. + +"I could 'a' hit that Stobo sneakin' in a-botherin' and a-'noyin' you," +he said in tones of great sympathy. "I know how it is, Mr. Varney. Bit +of a inverlid myself, I am--no health and no constitootion whatsomever, +sir. Feelin' a leetle stiddier now, are you? Better lie down on my +parlor sofy a while and git rested up nice, hadn't ye?--many's the day +I've lazied there, Lord knows, tryin' f'r to coddle my strength back." + +Varney regretfully declined the offer. In fact, he must be going at +once, he said, as he had a rather important business engagement; and +would Mr. Hackley kindly show him the quiet back-exit to the street and +the outer world? + +Hackley, a tireless host, re-urged the charms of his sofy and cool +well-water for invalids; but his guest remained politely firm. So there, +on the little rear veranda, the two men parted with mutual esteem: +Varney expressing sincere thanks for all Mr. Hackley's courtesies; +Hackley compassionate over Mr. Varney's impaired constitution, but +boggling over what regrets might haply betray him into the grip of the +law's long arm. + +Varney traversed the clothes-hung backyard, came out into the dingy +alley, and made rapidly for the cross-street, where a string of +carriages showed that "the quality" of Hunston was not without interest +in the day's proceedings. He did not see the carriages; to himself he +seemed suddenly to walk in a great and silent solitude. There was noise +enough about him, in all conscience, for every sentence that fell from +Hare's lips was punctuated by a salvo; but the tumult beat itself to +stillness against the closed fastness of his mind. + +Under his eye, half way down the block to which he drew near, rose the +weatherworn flank of the Palace Hotel. Somewhere within the ugly pile +was his mortal enemy Higginson, trapped to his reckoning at last. Within +five minutes they two would stand face to face; and he had long since +promised himself that Higginson would remember the meeting for as long +as he lived. A moment ago, the thought had filled him with a strange +exhilaration: the prospect of a final accounting with the intriguing +fly-by-night who had wronged him past all forgiveness had set his blood +to leaping. But, exactly because that wrong went so deep, his +pleasurable excitement ebbed faster than it had mounted. The wound that +he had had from Higginson was one that no vengeance would heal. And with +the recurrence of this knowledge his battle-joy flickered and went out +like a spent match, and the little alley was a war-list no longer but a +stretch without end of dry and dusty years.... + +"I was lookin' for yer, Mist' Varney," said a husky, abashed voice. + +Varney stared down at the small apparition before him with momentary +unrecognition. + +"Why--Tommy! Heaven bless us! Where did you spring from, boy?" + +Tommy's eyes fell in awe, but sure enough, he was sticking out his +small flipper in salutation. In fact, he had shaken hands a number of +times since that first memorable occasion, and, in his way, was +gradually beginning to catch the spirit of the thing. + +"Kem up on the two-forty-five. Wit' Hauser's band. Got a loan of t'ree +bucks off a frien'." + +"The mischief you did! Where do you find friends like that nowadays? But +what on earth made you pop back here? To hear Hauser's play and see all +the fireworks?" + +Tommy examined his toe with affected interest and shook his head. + +"What then? Don't you like it in New York?" + +"Yasser. Noo York's all right, it is." And reluctantly he added: "You +be'n sick, ain't you? Thought I'd come and see how you was makin' it. +Come afore now, on'y I couldn't get next to de price." + +"Tommy," said Varney, snuggling the boy's left hand into his own right +and resuming the promenade, "you're a mighty good friend to me." + +They emerged into the street where a double line of vehicles, some of +them gay with bright hats and parasols, flanked the curb on either side, +and Varney turned north, his back to the square, unconscious of the many +curious glances that were flung at him as he passed. + +"Tommy," said Varney, "I'm bound for the hotel on business, but I'm not +going to pull you away from all the fun--" + +"Wut, that? That ain't no fun, sir." + +"Don't you suppose I know fun when I meet it in the road, you little +rascal? You stay here till it's all over and then I want you to come +down to the yacht, and we'll have some dinner. Then I'll put you up for +the night and to-morrow morning we'll go to New York together, eh? How's +that?" + +But Tommy said: "Nawser. We can't go yet. Somebody sent me to bring you. +We got a car'dge here--" + +"A carriage?" + +"A victori'," emphasized Tommy. + +"A victoria! All this on three bucks, Tommy! Well, well! You are the +spender, though." + +"Here's _our_ victori'!" said Tommy proudly. + +They halted abruptly before an open carriage ... a victoria, indeed: a +handsome double victoria, all polished dark wood and blue upholstery and +shining nickeled harness, and sleek bay horses. This he saw in the first +flash, wondering by what miracle Tommy Orrick had secured control of so +glorious an equipage. And then ... there was the pretty edge of a +furbelowed skirt upon the carriage-floor ... a dainty patent-leather toe +upon the foot-rest ... an unrolling panorama of white-gloved hands, pale +buff dress, great plumed hat, eyes not seen yet known to be blue to +match the upholstery ... an exquisite lady sitting in the victoria. And +this lady had recognized his presence, first with a faint frightened +"Oh!" and then with a movement of those great hat-plumes which was +beyond all doubt or cavil a bow ... a bow of proper and civil greeting. + +For him that meeting was stunning in its entire unexpectedness. The +landscape went off in protest, exploded in pyrotechnic marvels; the +earth spun and cavorted; the solar system was disrupted and planets ran +amuck with din unbelievable. But he was used to these cataclysms now, +and out of the roar of breakage he heard a voice much like his own +saying pleasantly: + +"Tommy refers to this calmly as _his_ carriage, Miss Carstairs. See what +a week of New York has done for him. Where did he disappear to--did you +notice? A great day it has been"--in the rising inflection of +farewell--"hasn't it?" + +Came out of space in answer, like a fluttering bird from nowhere, a +voice that had once seemed music in his ears: + +"I sent him ... to look for you. They said that you were ... ill. +Perhaps you would let us drive you to the river?" + +"And make you miss the speech?" continued this easy and agreeable young +man, whom Laurence Varney, a great distance off, stood dumbly and +watched from the swirling void with a certain remote admiration. "Of +course not. I was never better in my life and the walk will be pleasant +on so nice an afternoon. But thank you very much." + +Again his tone held the faint inflection of finality, of leave-taking. +Came again the voice like tossed chimes out of space: + +"Then ... won't you stay and hear the end? It would please Mr. Hare. +From this carriage ... you can see and hear everything very well." + +"Thank you," said the debonair spirit, rather carelessly--while +Laurence Varney, off in another world, clutched at the invitation, +fought for it, lied, thieved, prayed, lived and died for it--"I'm afraid +I must go on now." + +"There is something I wanted to say. And ... a message." + +A shuffling of the cosmos, a shrieking readjustment of the universe, and +he found himself sitting on a blue upholstered seat staring at two great +golden moons, which later on turned out to be, after all, mere burnished +buttons upon a coachman's purple back. + +So, not for the first time, the sudden meeting with a lady knocked from +the young man's head all recollection of his enemy. And if their parting +had taken place in the entire privacy of a country road, their +re-meeting, certainly, was in the fullest view of the many. Only, +luckily, nobody chanced to be looking, or within eavesdropping distance; +and even the coachman presently removed himself to stand at his horses' +restive heads. Tommy's carriage happened to be the last one in the line. +Behind it the street was a desert. Before it was nothing but a packed +army of backs. + +"I did not know that you were here until Mr. Hare spoke. And they all +began to look...." + +"Mr. Hackley especially invited me to share his porch ..." and the other +Varney, not the one who sat so stiff and mute, desperate eyes glued on +the far horizon, but the easy, negligent Varney, gay dare-devil that he +was, actually achieved a pleasant laugh. "I must show you his note. It's +been a long time since I have had anything to please me so much." + +He unfolded and held out into the blue empyrean a rather soiled bit of +paper, which a small white-gloved hand descended from heaven like a dove +and took. Then, presumably, this was duly read: + + MR. VARNEY. dear sir: Announcment of Election will + be made in the Squair this p.m. around 6 p.m. Would + feel onered if you would come to my Poarch where everthink + can be seen & heard & no crouding, Josle ect. + Will call at your Yot with horse and Bugy around 5 p.m. + this p.m. if agreble though you don't nead no eskort anywairs + in Hunston, the Unfortunit mistaik having been + diskovered. Noing your intrest in our Poltix will add + that I voated for Mister Hair, first think this a.m. with + sorro for the Past and hoapes for your Speady convlessense, + + Resp. + + J. HACKLEY. + + S.P.--Should you come to my Poarch all would no as + bygorns was bygorns. + +"Wasn't that kind of him?" he asked when the note had again come down +into the ornamental lap, which was the upper line of his range of +vision. "And thoughtful. But then everybody has been so wonderfully kind +to me. I think I shall remember Hunston as altogether the kindest town I +ever saw." + +There was quite a silence after that. + +"I am like Jim," came the voice beside him, troubled chimes waving +bravely, "in having wronged you by ... an unfortunate mistake. You have +forgiven him, haven't you ... let by-gones be by-gones? Can you do as +much ... for me?" + +"Don't," he begged with sudden hoarseness--and there the mannersome +insouciant Varney waved an easy hand and blew himself away, like the +rascally light o' heels he was--"I have to ask forgiveness of you--not +give it," he said. + +"You have much to forgive. That day in the road--I was angry. I was not +just ... not fair. I am mortified to remember ... what I said to you." + +His heart contracted for the trouble in her voice; his spirit made +obeisance to the courage which carried her so perfectly through that +pretty suit for pardon; but for himself-- + +"There is not one thing--believe me--that your goodness can reproach +itself for--not one thing for you to be sorry for. If you have forgiven +me now--for all that you had to forgive--I go away quite happy." + +His first easy composure, which far outmatched her own, had unsteadied +her. His wasted and scarred face, which she had been quite unprepared +for, had shocked her inexpressibly. And now there was this new thought +knocking at the door of her mind--that he was going away quite happy. + +"There was something else I wanted to tell you ... if you could wait a +moment ... some news." + +He turned toward her with a movement of pleasant interest, meant to +verify his recent gallant promise; but he turned so quickly that his +face had no time to come into the kindly conspiracy, and no triumph of +hyperbole could have described its look as happy. + +"Yes? Good news, I hope?" + +"I won't ... be cowardly and let you think that this was accidental ... +my seeing you ... and telling you that I'm sorry. We--we were going to +drive down to the yacht ... after the speeches were over. I don't +understand it all yet, but this afternoon a great thing happened. There +came a letter from my father ... and everything is all settled now. He +... wants my mother ... more than me, now. Why shouldn't I tell you? It +is what I have longed for ... prayed for every night ... for twelve +years. We are going to New York--to-morrow--to see my father." + +His great gladness at that made him forget himself entirely, and for the +first time he could look at her. + +"Why, I can't _tell_ you how glad I am! How tremendously happy that +makes me!" + +She sat back in her cushioned seat, still as a sculptured lady, hands +clasped on her silken lap, eyes gone off down the street, though not for +vision, to where Hare was thundering a splendid peroration. He had +already become aware, without looking at her, that she was richly and +beautifully dressed; but he was hardly prepared for the effect which +such a setting would have upon her face. For all his conjuring of +memory, he had forgotten that she looked quite like that.... + +"Yes ... it makes me happy, too. And my mother wants to ask you--no, I +do--that is, both of us want to ask you--if you won't allow us to go +down ... in the yacht?" + +Misunderstanding, the senseless world started mad antics again; but +Intelligence, which saw more clearly, reached out a long arm and jerked +it firmly back on its feet. + +"Allow you! It's exactly what I'd like most _immensely_. She's all ready +for you--I'll have my things off her in no time--catch the eight-ten +to-night and go straight to congratulate Uncle Elbert. How great to see +him so happy! I 'll run right down to the yacht this minute and attend +to it." + +"There is nothing to attend to ... is there? You said she was all ready. +Of course we could not let you--leave her. We could not go in the yacht +... unless you will go with us." + +But speech stuck in his throat like a bone gone wrong. She would get no +help from him; that was evident. If suffering had wrought miracles of +absolution, she alone could make that plain. + +"You came to Hunston ... to take me to my father ... didn't you?" said +Mary Carstairs. "Why ... won't you do it?" + +A fugitive wave of pallor ran up her cheek, leaving its white trail +behind. She knew now that she had said the last word to him that she +could say, and that if he wanted to go away, he must go. The heavy +curtain of her lashes fell, veiling her eyes ... but, as it chanced, +fell slowly. He had turned at her words, very quickly; he caught the +curtain half-drawn, and a look come and gone like an arrow had shot +through those windows into the lit place beyond. + +"I could only do that," he began unsteadily--"I--you know how it is with +me.... To the longest day I live--I'll love you ... with every breath I +draw. I could not do that--unless ... Will you marry me?" + +The stillness about them then was like a tangible thing, measureless and +infinite. But into it faltered almost at once that voice like silver +bells. + +"If you're _perfectly sure_ you want me to," said Mary faintly. + +Her eyes met his in a wonderful union, divinely sealed the promise of +her lips, stamped it forever and ever with a heavenly stamp.... + +The bay horses curveted and pranced, the coachman sprang to his seat, a +big red motor backed, snorted, honked, and whizzed past them. The +speechmaking was over. The little line of gay carriages, breaking itself +into pieces, was maneuvering for rights of way homeward. The bay horses, +turning, too, were caught in the press and must needs go slowly: so that +the whole vivid pageant might have been but the ordered setting for this +moment--for Laurence Varney and the girl he had sworn to carry home to +her father.... + +In the square, the lingering crowd, attuned to cheering, was summoning +one name after another to noisy felicitation. Out of the tumult rose one +persistent voice, clamoring a changeless request. Yes, it was Hackley's +voice, very near, evidently on his own front porch, and he was saying +over and over: "Lemme ask you! Lemme ask you!" And about the moment the +victoria--Tommy's victori' (Tommy himself, if the truth be known, riding +snugly on the back springs at that very moment)--got safely put about, +Mr. Hackley secured what public notice he required and divulged the +nature of his request. + +"_Fellers, what's the matter with Varney_?" + +Instantly a thousand voices pulverized the man's fatuous anxiety. Hard +after, as the gallant slogan swept on to make assurance doubly sure, +they gave back the name in a roar like the rush of waters.... + +But the man for whom all the voices strained themselves did not hear +their doubt-destroying response, tumultuous though it was. Another +voice, close beside him, had taken up that refrain, making all others +inaudible, a shy, glad, whispering voice of chimes. + +"_He's all right_." + +The common words were glorified by that voice, made over into a sweet +and solemn benediction. He sat very silent, humbled and awed by the +revealed visage of his own great happiness. At last she found courage to +venture a look at him; and she saw that over his pale and disfigured +face there had come a kind of glory, the joy of sudden peace out of +pain. + +Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, +though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond +speech. + +"Would you mind stopping at the hotel--only a minute? I--have an old +enemy there, and I feel that I _must_ see him." + +"Oh, no, no!--must you? Oh, please--I can't let you go now! And I am +afraid--afraid of what might happen--" + +She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she +had not followed his thought. + +"I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's +all right now." + +There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had +left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from +which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly +gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now +he could turn his shining face fully toward her. + +"You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy _to-day_!" + +As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added: + +"And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a +fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being--in love with all the +world. I--I--I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But--this is +a duty, and--and--good-bye!" + +She never forgot the look upon his face. + +"Good-bye. And oh! would you please _hurry_?" + +With an herculean effort he detached himself from the carriage and +rushed into the hotel. The same bored-looking clerk was sitting behind +the desk, paring the same nails with the same office scissors. But this +time, at sight of Varney, he sprang instantly to his feet, all smiles +and eagerness to serve. + +"Why, _good_ evening, Mr. Varney! Well, sir! You're lookin' better'n we +expected, and I tell you Hunston's mighty glad to see you up and about +again." + +Varney marveled how he had ever formed such a mean opinion of the clerk, +whom he now saw to be a decidedly likable young man. + +"Thank you--thank you! It's a wonderful little city--Hunston--wonderful! +Try a few of these cigars--that's right; fill your pocket. And would you +be good enough to send my card up to Mr. Higginson? Perhaps I'd better +write just a line--" + +"Mr. Higginson's in the small parlor, Mr. Varney--straight down the +corridor. Yes, sir! Just came down and went in--I think he saw you +coming--" + +"And ran away again? Why, bless me, what's the old chap afraid of?" + +He started gayly down the dim hall to the right of the desk, swinging +his stick and humming to himself; and presently became aware that a man +was following silently at his elbow. + +"It's me--Callery," said the man apologetically, as Varney turned. "I--I +'ll just be here, Mr. Varney, you know, if anything's wanted." + +Varney laughed again. "You're mighty good to me, Mr. Callery," he said +cordially--"you and Mr. Stobo--I can't tell you how much I appreciate +it. But it isn't a bit of use, you know! I'm positively not going to +kill anybody to-day." + +"Yes, sir," said Callery. "Here's the door, Mr. Varney." + +"This one?" + +"Yes, sir. He come runnin' down the steps, spoke a word to the clerk, +and then he dodges down here and slams the door behind him. Seen you +through the window, I guess--" + +"Well, I'll just step in and have a look at him, Mr. Gallery. Excuse me +a minute." + +He rapped on the closed door and called in a loud cheery voice: "Mr. +Higginson." + +"Come in," said a voice from within--a rather agitated voice which had a +curiously familiar ring in the young man's ears. + +Varney swung open the door, stepped into the small parlor, and (greatly +to the disappointment of Mr. Gallery) closed the door behind him. + +In the middle of the room, staring nervously toward the door, stood a +handsome elderly gentleman, of distinguished presence and clothes of a +rather notable perfection. At sight of him the young man's advance +halted in utter bewilderment, and he fell back limply against the shut +door. + +But the elderly gentleman came running toward him with a suppressed cry, +and seizing the young man's hand disarmingly in both his own, threw +himself almost hysterically upon his apologia. + +"Can you forgive me, my boy? Ah, I'll confess that I've dreaded this +meeting, while longing for it, too! You look badly--ah, very +badly!--yet--not bitter, not resentful--thank God, not unhappy! My boy, +can you find it in your heart to forgive an old man who has suffered +deeply for his sins?" + +Out of his whirling confusion, his insane sense of the world suddenly +gone upside down and the familiar order stood upon its head, the young +man laughed dazedly. But he kept tight hold of the old one's hand, and +fell to patting it with wild reassurance. + +"Everything's all right--all right! Yes, indeed, sir. Of course! But I +don't understand--I don't grasp--I came here looking for--Are +you--_you_--Mr. Higginson?" + +"Ah, you hadn't guessed then? And yet who could wonder, such a terrible, +frightful mix-up as it all became! You see," the old gentleman hurried +on, lowering his gaze, yet already recovering something of his normal +composure, "you had scarcely started before I--I became strangely uneasy +over the--seriousness of the matter and the possible consequences, +and--and decided that I had best come on myself in--in a private manner, +merely to have an eye on things. Believe me, that was all I meant. But I +did not dare let you know that I was here, even in that way, having +promised you that I would not interfere, and besides--I feared that you +might think I had--ah--withheld the full facts about--her age." + +In an access of nervous self-consciousness, the old man's voice trailed +to an uncertain pause; and Varney comforted him with a burst of +bewildered laughter. + +"Forgive my glassy stare--no offence intended, but my head's going +around, Mr. Higginson! It's all still nebulous, you +know--topsy-turvy--incredible! That day of the luncheon, now--the +mysterious warning--the bribe to Ferguson to smash up the yacht--" + +A fine flush spread over the old man's face to the roots of his +silvered hair. Yet it was obvious that the young man's unaffected +cordiality had heartened him immensely. + +"Well, you see, my dear boy," he began, embarrassedly, "by that time I +had met her--she was so sweet to me from the start--and I began to hope +that such heroic, such painful, measures might not be necessary. Yet +perhaps they would be, after all, and so--ah, I did wrong, I +know--wrong!--and yet--don't you see how inevitably it all came about? I +did not dare communicate with you, begging you to let matters stand a +few days--fearing that upon learning of my presence you would simply +abandon the commission entirely, and God knows you would have been +justified in doing so. Yet I longed to postpone the--the final step, +holding it in reserve, in the ardent hope that it might be avoided +entirely. So I--gave instructions to Ferguson. It was wrong not to trust +you, and oh, I have been punished for it, suffered miserably--" + +"_Dear_ sir! I'm so sorry! But that is all past now--all past--and +to-day all's right with the world!" + +The old man's hands tightened their earnest clasp. Tears sprang suddenly +into his fine eyes. + +"But oh, I have been richly blest, too--far beyond my deserts! The night +that you were hurt--I came quite unexpectedly face to face with Mrs. +Carstairs at the cottage. We had a long talk that night--a wonderful +talk, which gave me a totally new point of view, brought me new light +and peace. And now--everything is arranged, and if you have truly +forgiven me, I am happy as I never dreamed for happiness again." + +"Forgiven you! For what, dear sir? Why, don't you begin to guess yet +what you have done for me?" + +He tucked the old man's hand masterfully under his arm, and drew him to +the door. + +"God bless you, boy, for what _you've_ done for me and mine. +But--where--where are we going?" + +"Out into the world," said Varney, "where Mary Carstairs is waiting for +you and me." + +"But--but--I feel extremely nervous--does she know?" + +"She is going to know in about thirty seconds, and we are the three +happiest people in America." + +"I think," said the old man palely, "that she--she likes me--" + +"In less than a minute," said the young one, "she is going to love you." + +His voice betrayed him a little on the words, but he instantly recovered +his poise, and, hand on the knob, faced the other with his gayest smile. + +"Tell me, Mr. Higginson--_did_ you skip to New York that afternoon, when +Maginnis and I, you know, dashed up here to assassinate you?" + +"Yes," replied the handsome old intriguer with a nervous cough, "yes, +I--you see, it had been reported to me that Mr. Maginnis had threatened +to horsewhip me in the public square, after my attempt to buy the paper +and save us all from scandal. So naturally, on the afternoon you +mention, I--I anticipated trouble. However, I quietly returned to +Hunston on the next train back, going, of course, to a different hotel, +a most dreadful little place--" + +Varney shouted. + +"It's just as Peter said, I declare! You're the noblest plotter of them +all, Mr. Higginson. Dear old Hunston will not look upon your like +again." + +The two enemies came out into the corridor arm-in-arm, and advanced in +utter amity to the doorway. And as they walked, Varney's tongue +unloosed, and he spoke his still incredible happiness aloud: only, +because he was not Latin and exuberant, he spoke it according to the +indirect uses of his race. + +"That man we passed standing in the hall--the one with the face of +incredulity and chagrin--was old Callery--horribly miffed because you +and I failed to lock in mortal combat. He's a fine fellow, Callery is, +only I imagine he's had a lot of hard luck. Did you ever see a prettier +little hotel than this--I mean, of course, for a town of this size? +_Look_! That's the clerk behind the desk there. An amazingly clever +fellow--you just ought to have seen how sharp he was in knowing where +you were--and that's a _Cypriani_ cigar he's smoking, if you'd like to +know. Jim Hackley's house is just over on the other corner--why, you can +_see_ it from here. I want you to know Hackley, sir! A great big +whimsical fellow with a fist like a ham and a heart like a woman's.... +Ah!..." + +They emerged from the hotel upon the noisy street, still lively with the +rush of home-goers; and now the two men stood side by side before the +waiting carriage, and Varney's flow of talk had ceased. + +From the square there came the shouts of many lingerers, making merry +in the tail of the great day according to their desire. Down either +sidewalk poured a stream of people, laughing, talking, and calling to +each other; the street still rumbled under passing vehicles; the Palace +Hotel, in particular, had become a lodestone and near to Tommy's +victoria much human traffic converged. In truth, it was a public place +where all who wished could see, and many did see. Yet there was nothing +in the little scene to fix the gaze of the casual wayfarer: a young girl +sitting in a well-appointed carriage, and two men, one young and one +old, approaching with bared heads to speak to her. Only a close observer +would have been likely to notice that the old man's cheek was markedly +pale, and that upon the marred face of the younger one there had +descended a strange and solemn look.... + +For Mary there had been no surprise in seeing the young man come out to +her with the old one on his arm--had he not told her that he went in +peace?--and even the glorious metamorphosis in Mr. Higginson's +appearance quite failed to arrest her attention. She had smoothed his +approach with a welcoming smile and the beginning of a gay greeting; but +her eyes were for her lover. And now as she saw the look on Varney's +face, and became aware of the odd and impressive silence in which he +stood, like one called to officiate at some high ceremony, understanding +incredibly dawned within her, and she was suddenly without speech or +breath. Her little greeting was never finished; all at once her face, +grown wonderfully sweet, was whiter than the old man's own; and the +eyes which she now turned back to him were full and overfull of tears. + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, not quite steadily, "may I have the great +honor of presenting your father?" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captivating Mary Carstairs +by Henry Sydnor Harrison + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + +This file should be named 7cmcr10.txt or 7cmcr10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7cmcr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7cmcr10a.txt + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Captivating Mary Carstairs + +Author: Henry Sydnor Harrison + +Release Date: February, 2006 [EBook #9993] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on November 6, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + + + + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + +BY + + +HENRY SYDNOR HARRISON + + +WITH A FRONTISPIECE BY R.M. CROSBY + +(_This book was first published pseudonymously in February, 1911_) + + + + +1910, 1914. + + + + +TO NAWNY: HER BOOK + + + + +_NOTE_ + + +_This book, representing the writer's first effort at a long story, has +something of a story of its own. First planned in 1900 or 1901, it was +begun in 1905, and finished at length, in a version, three years later. +Through the two years succeeding it underwent various adventures, +including, if memory serves, two complete overhauling. Having thus +reached by stages something like its present form, it was, in August, +1910, favorably reported on by the publishers; but yet another rewriting +preceded its final acceptance, a few weeks later. Meanwhile, I had +turned to fresh work; and, as it chanced, "Queed" was both begun and +finished in the interval while "Captivating Mary Carstairs" was taking +her last journeys abroad. Turned away by two publishers, the newer +manuscript shortly found welcome from a third. So it befell that I, as +yet more experienced in rejections, suddenly found myself with two +books, of widely different sorts and intentions, scheduled for +publication by different publishers, almost simultaneously. As this +seemed to be more books than society required from an unknown writer, it +was decided to put out the present story--which is a "story," as I +conceive the terms, and not a novel--over a pen name. + +At that time, be it said, with an optimism that now has its humorous +side, I viewed myself prospectively as a ready and fertile writer, +producing a steady flow of books of very various sorts. Hence it +occurred to me that a pseudonym might have a permament serviceability. +So far from these anticipations proving justified, I am now moved to +abandon the pseudonym in the only instance I have had occasion to use +it. Writers have sometimes been charged with seeking to capitalize their +own good fortune. My motive, in authorizing the republication of this +story over my name, is not that. The fact is only that experience has +taught me not to like pseudonymity: my feeling being that those who take +an interest in my work are entitled, if they so desire, to see it as a +whole_. + +H.S.H. + +_Charleston, West Virginia, 16 March, 1914_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +I The Chief Conspirator Secures a Pal + +II They Embark upon a Crime + +III They Arrive in Hunston and Fall in with a Stranger + +IV Which Concerns Politics and other Local Matters + +V Introduces Mary Carstairs and Another + +VI The Hero Talks with a Lady in the Dark + +VII In which Mary Carstairs is Invited to the Yacht "Cypriani" + +VIII Concerning Mr. Ferris Stanhope, the Popular Novelist; also Peter, +the Quiet Onlooker + +IX Varney Meets with a Galling Rebuff, while Peter Goes Marching On + +X The Editor of the _Gazette_ Plays a Card from His Sleeve + +XI Which Shows the Hero a Fugitive + +XII A Yellow Journalist Secures a Scoop but Fails to Get Away with it + +XIII Varney Meets His Enemy and is Disarmed + +XIV Conference between Mr. Hackley, the Dog Man, and Mr. Ryan, the Boss + +XV In which Varney Does Not Pay a Visit, but Receives One + +XVI Wherein Several Large Difficulties are Smoothed Away + +XVII A Little Luncheon Party on the Yacht "Cypriani" + +XVIII Captivating Mary + +XIX In which Mr. Higginson and the Sailing-Master Both Merit Punishment, +and Both Escape it + +XX Varney, Having Embarked upon a Crime, Finds out that there is a Price +to Pay + +XXI Mr. Ferris Stanhope Meets His Double; and Lets the Double Meet +Everything Else + +XXII Relating How Varney Fails to Die; and Why Smith Remained in +Hunston; and How a Reception is Planned for Mr. Higginson + +XXIII In which Varney, after all, Redeems His Promise + + + + +CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS + + + + +Captivating Mary Carstairs + + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +THE CHIEF CONSPIRATOR SECURES A PAL + +In a rear room of a quaint little house uptown, a great bronzed-faced +man sat at a piano, a dead pipe between his teeth, and absently played +the most difficult of Beethoven's sonatas. Though he played it divinely, +the three men who sat smoking and talking in a near-by corner paid not +the least attention to him. The player, it seemed, did not expect them +to: he paid very little attention himself. + +Next to the selection of members, that is, no doubt, the most highly +prized thing about the Curzon Club: you are not expected to pay +attention unless you want to. It is a sanctuary where no one can bore +you, except yourself. The members have been chosen with this in mind, +and not chosen carelessly. + +Lord Pembroke, who married a Philadelphian, is quoted as saying that the +Curzon is the most democratic club in a too confoundedly democratic +country. M. Arly, the editor, has told Paris that it is the most +exclusive club in the world. Probably both were right. The electing +board is the whole club, and a candidate is stone-dead at the first +blackball; but no stigma attaches to him for that. Of course, it is a +small club. Also, though money is the least of all passports there, it +is a wealthy club. No stretch of the imagination could describe its dues +as low. But through its sons of plutocracy, and their never-ending +elation at finding themselves in, has arisen the Fund, by which poor but +honest men can join, and do join, with never a thought of ways and +means. Of these Herbert Horning, possibly the best-liked man in the +club, who supported a large family off the funny department of a +magazine, was one. He had spurned the suggestion when it was first made +to him, and had reluctantly foregone his election; whereon Peter +Maginnis had taken him aside, a dash of red in his ordinarily composed +eye. + +"How much?" he demanded brutally. + +"How much for what?" + +"How much for you?" roared Peter. "How much must the club pay you to get +you in?" + +Horning stared, pained. + +"God meant no man to be a self-conscious ass," said Peter more mildly. +"The club pays you a high compliment, and you have the nerve to reply +that you don't take charity. I suppose if Congress voted you a medal for +writing the funniest joke in America, you'd have it assayed and remit +the cash. Chuck it, will you? Once in a year we find a man we want, and +then we go ahead and take him. We don't think much of money here but--as +I say, how much?" + +The "but" implied that Horning did, and hurt as it was meant to. He came +into the club, took cheerfully what they offered him that way, and felt +grateful ever afterwards that Maginnis had steered him to the light. + +The big man, Maginnis himself, sat on at the piano, his great fingers +rambling deftly over the keys. He was playing Brahms now and doing it +magnificently. He was fifteen stone, all bone and muscle, and looked +thirty pounds heavier, because you imagined, mistakenly, that he carried +a little fat. He was the richest man in the club, at least so far as +prospects went, but he wore ready-made clothes, and one inferred, +correctly, that a suit of them lasted him a long time. He looked capable +of everything, but the fact was that he had done nothing. But for his +money and a past consisting of thirty years of idleness, he might have +been the happiest dog alive. + +"The best government," said one of the three men who were not listening +to the piano, "is simply the surest method for putting public opinion +into power." + +The sentence drifted over the player's shoulder and Brahms ended with a +crash. + +"Balzac said that," he cried, rising abruptly, "and said it better! But, +good heavens, how you both miss the point! Why, let me tell you." + +But this they stoutly declined to do. Amid laughter and protests--for +the big man's hobbies were well known to the club--two of them sprang up +in mock terror, and headed for the door. They indicated that they had +promised each other to play billiards and dared not break the +engagement. + +"I couldn't stay to the end, anyway, Peter," explained one, from the +door. "My wife sits up when I'm out after midnight. Meet me here for +breakfast some bank-holiday, and we'll give the day to it." + +Maginnis, who never got over feeling disappointed when he saw his +audience slipping away from him, sighed, searched through his frowzy +pockets for a match, lit his pipe, and fell upon a lounge near to all +the society that was left him. + +"Why weren't you up?" said this society presently. + +"The idea of dinner was repellent to me." + +"To you, Peter--the famous trencherman of song and story? Why this +unwonted daintiness?" + +"Lassitude. Too weary to climb the stairs. Besides, I wasn't hungry." + +"Ah," said Reggie Townes, "you have the caveman's idea of dinner, I see. +It strikes you as purely an occasion for purveying provender to man's +interior. The social feature eludes you. You know what I think, Peter? +You ought to go to work." + +"_Work!_" + +"That's the word. What of it?" + +"Not a thing. The idea was new to me; that's all." + +"Persiflage and all that aside, why don't you take a stab at politics?" + +"Politics! Here in New York! I'd sooner go into Avernus of the easy +descent. If you had a town to run all by yourself now, there might be +something in it. That idea of yours as to going to work, while +unquestionably novel, strikes me as rather clever." + +"No credit belongs to me," said Townes, "if I happened to be born +brilliant instead of good-looking." + +"I'll ponder it," said Peter; and stretching out his great hand with a +gesture which banished the subject, he pushed a service button and +begged Townes to be so kind as to name his poison. + +Outside in the hall a voice just then called his name, and Maginnis +answered. + +A young man in evening dress strolled through the doorway, a tallish, +lithe young man with a pleasant clean-cut face and very light hair. It +was evident enough that he patronized a good tailor. He glanced at the +two men, nodded absently, and dropped without speech into a chair near +the door. Townes eyed him somewhat quizzically. + +"Evening, Larry. A little introspective to-night, yes?" + +Peter said: "By bull luck you have stumbled into a company of gentlemen +about to place an order. Go ahead. Mention a preference." + +The young man, unseeing eyes on Peter, did not answer. Instead, he +sprang up, as though struck by a thought of marked interest and bolted +out the door. They saw him vanish into the telephone booth across the +hall and bang the glass door shut behind him. + +"Forgot an engagement." + +"You mean remembered one," said Peter. + +"It all figures out to the same answer," said Townes; and glancing +presently at his watch, he announced that he must be trotting on. + +"But I've ordered something for you, man." + +"Varney can use it, can't he?" + +The door opened, and the tallish young man stood on the threshold again, +this time social and affable. His distraitness, oddly enough, had all +gone. He greeted the two in the smoking-room as though he had seen them +for the first time that evening; expressed his pleasure at being in +their company; inquired after their healths and late pursuits; pressed +cigarettes upon them. + +They rallied him upon his furtive movements and fickle demeanor, but +drew only badinage in kind, and no explanations; and Townes, laughing, +turned to the door. + +"Dally with us yet a little while, Reggie." + +"No, gentles, no! I'm starting abroad to-night and have already dallied +too long." + +"Abroad!" + +"My sister," said Townes, "as perhaps you don't know, wedded a +foreigner--Willy Harcourt, born and raised in Brooklyn. Therefore, I am +now leaving to go to a party in Brooklyn. Say that to yourself +slowly--'a party in Brooklyn!' Sounds sort of ominous, doesn't it? If +the worst happens, I look to you fellows to break it to my mother. +Please mention that I was smiling to the last." + +He waved a farewell and disappeared into the hall. Varney dropped into +the chair Townes had left empty, and elevated his feet to the lounge +where sprawled the length of Peter Maginnis. Peter looked up and the +eyes of the two men met. + +"Well, Laurence? What is the proposition?" "Proposition? What do you +mean?" + +"An ass," replied Maginnis, pumping seltzer into a tall glass, "could +see that you have something on your mind." + +Varney pulled a match from the little metal box-holder, and looked at +him with reluctant admiration. "Sherlock Holmes Maginnis! I _have_ +something on my mind. A friend dropped it there half an hour ago, and +now I 've come to drop it on yours." He glanced at the room's two doors +and saw that both were shut. "Time is short. The outfit upstairs may +drift in any minute. Listen. Do you recall telling me the other day, +with tears in your eyes, that you were slowly dying for something new +and interesting to do?" + +Peter nodded. + +"I think of your pleasure," said Varney, "always. By looking about me +and keeping my eyes and ears open at all hours, I have found you just +the thing." + +"New and interesting?" + +"There are men in this town who would run themselves to death trying to +get in it on the ground floor." + +Maginnis shook his head. + +"I have done everything in this world," he said almost sadly, "except, I +may say, the felonies." + +"But this," said Varney, "is a felony." + +Struck by his tone, Peter glanced up. "Mean it?" + +"Sure thing." + +"As I remarked before, what is the proposition?" + +"To sum it all up in a word," said Varney, "there's a job of kidnapping +on and I happened to get the contract. That's all there is to the little +trifle." + +Peter swung his feet around to the floor, and sat up. His conviction +that Varney was trying to be funny died hard. + +Varney laughed. "I need a pal," he added. "Five minutes ago I telephoned +and got permission to offer the place to you." + +"Stop being so confounded mysterious," Peter broke out, "and go ahead!" + +Varney blew smoke thoughtfully and said, "I will. In fact, that's what I +came for. It's a devil of a delicate little matter to talk about to +anybody, as it happens. Of course, what I tell you must never go an inch +further, whether you come along or not." + +"Naturally." + +"You know my Uncle Elbert?" + +"Old Carstairs?" + +Varney nodded. "He wouldn't thank you for the adjective, though. I got +the contract from him. By the way, he's not my uncle, of course; he was +simply a great friend of my mother's. I inherited the friendship, and in +these last five years he and I have somehow managed to get mighty close +together. Eight years or so ago," he continued, "as you may, or may not +know, Uncle Elbert and his wife parted. There wasn't a thing the matter, +I believe, except that they weren't hitting it off particularly well. +They simply agreed to disagree. _Nouveau riche_, and all that, wasn't +it? Mrs. Carstairs has some money of her own. She picked up, packed up, +walked out, bought a place up the river, near Hunston, and has lived +there ever since." + +Peter looked up quickly. "Hunston? Ha! But fire away." + +"She and Uncle Elbert have stayed pretty good friends all through it. +They exchange letters now and then, and once or twice when she has been +in the city, I believe they have met--though not in recent years. My +private suspicion is that she has never entirely got over being in love +with him. Anyhow, there's their general relationship in a +nutshell--parted but friendly. It might have stayed just like that till +they were both in their graves, but for one accidental complication. +There is a child." + +"I seem to remember," said Peter. "A little boy." + +"On the contrary. A little girl. Uncle Elbert," said Varney, "is a bit +of a social butterfly. Mrs. Carstairs is an earnest domestic character. +As I gather, that was what they clashed on--the idea of what a home +ought to be. When the split came, Mrs. Carstairs took the child and +Uncle Elbert was willing enough to have her do it. That was natural +enough, Peter. He had his friends and his clubs and his little dinners, +and he was no more competent to raise a girl baby than you are, which is +certainly going some for a comparison. I suppose the fact was that he +was glad to be free of the responsibility. But it's mighty different +now. + +"You see," said Varney, lighting one cigarette from another and +throwing the old one away, "he must be pretty lonely all by himself in +that big house of his. On top of that he's getting old and isn't in very +good health. Explain it any way you like. The simple fact is that within +this last year or so, it's gradually gotten to be a kind of obsession +with him, an out-and-out, down-and-out monomania, to know that kid--to +have her come and spend part of every year with him. That's natural, +too, I should say." + +"H'm. Mrs. Carstairs sticks to her like fly-paper, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. She admits Uncle Elbert's rights and is entirely willing to +let him have Mary--for such is our little heroine's name--for part of +the time. It is the child who is doing the fly-paper business. The +painful fact is that she declines to have anything whatever to do with +her father. Invitations, commands, entreaties--she spurns them all. Yes, +I asked him if they had tried spanking, but he didn't answer--seemed +rather miffed, in fact. The child simply will not come, and that is +point number one. Now, of course, Uncle Elbert realizes that he has not +been what the world would call a good father. And he has figured it out +that Mary, evidently a young precocity, has judged him, found him +guilty, and sentenced him to banishment from her affections. That hurts, +you know. Well, he is certain that if he could once see her and be +thrown with her for a few days, she would find that he is not such an +old ogre, after all, would take him back as a father, as we might say, +and that after that everything would be plain sailing. That's his +theory. The point is how to see her and be thrown with her for the +necessary few days." + +"Why does n't he get on the train and go to Hunston? Or, if Mrs. +Carstairs is really so decent about the thing, why doesn't she get on +the train and bring Mary down here?" + +"Good. I put both of those up to him, and they seemed to embarrass him a +little. I gathered that he had suggested them both to Mrs. Carstairs, +and that she had turned them down hard. The ground seemed delicate. You +see, we must allow for the personal equation in all this. No matter +where they met, he couldn't hang around the house getting acquainted +with Mary without coming into sort of intimate contact with Mrs. +Carstairs, and giving a kind of domestic touch to their relations. You +see how that is. She wants to be fair and generous about it, but if she +is in love with him, that would be a little more than flesh and blood +could bear, I suppose. Then, as I say, there is the pig-headedness of +the child. Anyway, Uncle Elbert assures me that both those plans are +simply out of the question. So there is the situation. Mary won't come +to see him by herself. Mrs. Carstairs won't bring Mary to see him, and +she won't let him come to see Mary. Well, what remains?" + +Peter said nothing. In a room overhead a manifestly improvised quartet +struck up "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot?" with great enthusiasm. + +"You see there is only one thing. The old gentleman," said Varney, "has +brooded over the matter till it's broken him all up. He was in bed when +I was there just now. He asked me to go to Hunston and bring his +daughter to him. I told him that kidnapping was a little out of my line. +'Kidnapping is rather a harsh word,' he said. 'Yes,' said I, 'it's a +criminal word, I believe.' But--" + +Peter looked up, interrupting. "Is this all straight? Is that really +what he wants you to do?" + +"Naturally, Peter. Why not? You cling to the theory that such heroic +measures are entirely unnecessary? So did I till I had threshed the +whole thing up and down with Uncle Elbert for an hour and a half, trying +to suggest some alternative that didn't look so silly. Kindly get the +facts well into your head, will you? The man must pursue Mary's +affection either there or here, mustn't he? He can't do it there because +his wife won't let him. In order to do it here, one would say offhand +that Mary would have to be here, and since her mother declines to bring +her, it does look to me as if the job would have to be done by somebody +else. However, if my logic is wrong, kindly let your powerful--" + +"I don't say it's wrong. I merely say that it sounds like a cross +between a modern pork-king's divorce suit and a seventeenth century +peccadillo." + +"And I reply that I don't care a hoot how it sounds. The only question +of any interest to me, Peter, is whether or not Uncle Elbert has a moral +right to a share in his own child. I say that he has such a right, and I +say further that this is the only way in the world that he can assert +his right. Oh, hang how it sounds! I'm the nearest thing to a son that +he has in this world, and I mean for him to have his rights. So--" + +"Very fine," said Peter dryly. "But what's the matter with Carstairs +getting his rights for himself? Why doesn't he sneak up there and pull +the thing off on his own?" + +Varney laughed. "Evidently you don't know Uncle Elbert, after all. He's +as temperamentally unfit to carry through a job of this sort as a +hysterical old lady. Besides, even though they haven't met for so long, +I suppose his own daughter would recognize him, wouldn't she? I never +gave that idea a thought. Like his wife, he says he wants to have +nothing whatever to do with it. In fact, I made him put that in the form +of a promise--he's to give me an absolutely free hand, subject to the +conditions, and not interfere in any way. In return I ended by swearing +a great iron-clad oath not only to go, but to bring the child back with +me. The swear was Uncle Elbert's idea, and I didn't mind. Confound +it!--this is getting rather intimate, but here is Mrs. Carstairs's +letter giving a partial consent to the thing. It just got in this +afternoon; he sent for me the minute he'd read it, I believe, and I +never saw a man more excited." + +He pulled a scrawled and crossed note-sheet from his pocket, and read in +a guarded and slightly embarrassed voice: + +HUNSTON, 25th of September. + +MY DEAR ELBERT,--I hardly know how to answer you, though I have been +over and over the whole subject on my knees. As you know, if I could +send Mary to you, I would, sadly as I should miss her, for the wish +lies close to my heart to have her know her father. But she will not +hear of leaving me and there is an end of that. What you suggest is so +new and so _dreadful_ in many ways that it is very hard to consent to +it. Of course, I realize that it is not right for me to have her always. +But the utmost I can bring myself to say is that if you can succeed in +what you propose I will do nothing to interfere with you, and will see +that there is no scandal here afterwards. Of course, I am to have no +part in it, and no force is to be used, and everything is to be made as +agreeable for her as is possible under the circumstances. Oh, I am +miserable and doubtful about the whole thing, but pray and trust that it +is for the best, and that she will find some way to forgive me for it +afterwards. + +A.E.C. + +"H'm. No force is to be used," said Peter. "May I ask just how you +expect to get Mary on the choo-choo?" + +"Now we are getting to the meat of the matter," said Varney. "We shall +not have to get Mary on the choo-choo at all. We are going to use a +yacht, which will be far more private and pleasant, and also far easier +to get people on. Uncle Elbert's _Cypriani_ lies in the harbor at this +moment, ready to start anywhere at half a day's notice. It will start +for Hunston to-morrow afternoon, with me on board. I'll need another man +to put the thing through right, and I'd rather trust a friend than a +servant. So would Uncle Elbert. When I came in here just now, I was at +once taken with your looks for the part, and I have been authorized by +'phone to give you first refusal on this great chance." + +Peter said nothing. Varney feared that he looked rather bored. + +"At first," he went on promptly, "I'll confess that I didn't see so much +in the thing. But the more I've thought of it the more its unique charm +has appealed to me. It is nothing more nor less than a novel, piquant +little adventure. Exactly the sort of thing to attract a man who likes +to take a sporting chance. Look at the difficulties of it. Go to a +strange town where there are thousands and millions of strange children, +locate Mary, isolate her, make friends with her, coax her to the +yacht--captivate her, capture her! How are we to do all that, you ask? I +reply, the Lord knows. That is where the sport comes in. We are +forbidden to use force. We are forbidden to use Mrs. Carstairs or bring +her into it in any way. We are forbidden, of course, to let the child +know who we are. Everything must be done by almost diabolical craft, +while dodging suspicion at every step. Can you beat it for a fascinating +little expedition?" + +Peter relit his pipe and meditatively dropped the match on the floor. +"How old is Mary?" + +"Old?" said Varney, surprised at the question, "Oh, I don't know. The +separation took place--h'm--say eight years ago, and my guess is that +she was about four at the time. From this and the way Uncle Elbert spoke +of her, I daresay twelve would hit it fair and square. A grand age for +kidnapping, what?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter, "it makes it mere baby-work. Turn it over +as you will, it all boils down to spanking a naughty child." + +"Never! Think of slipping a cog in our plans--making a false start, +having somebody get on to us! Why, man, there may be jail for us both in +this!" + +He examined Peter's face hopefully, but found unaffected apathy there. + +"Suppose," he cried boastfully, "that the Associated Press got on to it! +Think of the disgrace of it! 'Millionaire Maginnis Caught Kidnapping!' +Think of being fired from the Curzon and having to leave New York a +hunted and broken man! Think," he added in an inspired climax, "of +having your photograph in the Sunday _Herald_!" + +Maginnis perked up visibly at this. "There is no chance of that really, +do you think?" + +"None in the world," said Varney desperately. + +He felt sure that this had cost him Peter, whom he had come to as his +oldest and best friend. Having no idea whom he could turn to next, he +rose, tentatively, and for the moral effect, to go. + +"After all," he said aloud, "I have another man in my mind who would, on +second thoughts, suit me better." + +"Oh, sit down!" cried Peter, impatiently. + +Larry sat down. His face showed, in spite of him, how really anxious he +was to have Peter go. There was a brief pause. + +"Since you are so crazy to have me," said Peter, "I'll go." + +"Thank you," said Varney. He picked up his glass, which he had hitherto +not touched, drained it at a gulp and pushed the bell vigorously. "I +knew," he cried, "that you'd see the possibilities when once your brain +began to work." + +Peter's faint smile was an insult in its way. "Three things have decided +me to go with you, old son, and none of them has anything to do with +your possibilities. The first is that I'm the one man in a million you +really need in case of trouble." + +"Peter, your modesty is your curse." + +"The second is--did you read the _Sun_ this morning? It seems that this +little town of Hunston is having a violent spasm of politics right now. +Rather lucky coincidence, I should say. The dispatch I read was pretty +vague, but I gather that there's an interesting fight on between a +strong machine and a small but firm reform movement." + +"Ha! Occupation for you while I beat the woods for little Mary." + +"I'll need it." + +"Well, what was your other wonderful reason?" + +"Don't you know? It is that sixty horse-power oath your uncle made you +swear." + +"Because it committed me, you mean?" + +The door opened, men entered noisily, and Peter had to draw Varney aside +to explain darkly: "Because it committed me to wondering what +difficulties foxy old Carstairs made a point of concealing from you." + +"Meet me upstairs in ten minutes," said Varney, "and we'll talk about +plans." + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +THEY EMBARK UPON A CRIME + +Varney was wrong in one thing: Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ was not ready +to start anywhere at half a day's notice. For that reason it did not +start for Hunston on the following afternoon. As always happens, the +preparations for the little expedition took four times as long as +anybody would have thought possible. + +For these delays no blame could be attached to Peter Maginnis. He had no +getting ready to do beyond bidding his father's man to pack him for a +week, and obtaining from his hatter's, at an out-of-season cut-price, an +immense and peculiar Panama with an offensive plaid band. Possibly it +was the only hat of its kind in the world. One might picture the +manufacturer as having it made up as an experiment, becoming morose when +he looked at it, and ordering his superintendent to make no more like it +at the peril of his life. + +Peter, however, was delighted with it. Gazing at himself with smirking +satisfaction in the hat-shop mirror, he ordered the old one sent home +and was all ready to go to Hunston and kidnap Mary Carstairs. + +But other preparations could not be completed with such speedy +satisfaction. The yacht had to coal, take on supplies, and pick up two +or three extra men for the crew. A Sunday came in and threw everything +back a day. Lastly the sailing-master's wife, whom Mr. Carstairs was +sending along to take charge of Mary on the homeward trip, chanced to be +down with an influenza. + +As the details of getting ready multiplied about him, Varney's interest +in his novel undertaking imperceptibly grew. The thing had come upon him +so unexpectedly that it had not yet by any means lost its strangeness. +To the old friend of his mother's girlhood, Elbert Carstairs, he was +sincerely devoted, though knowing him for an indulgent man whose +indulgences were chiefly of himself. But when, responding to his excited +summons that night, he had sat and listened while Mr. Carstairs unfolded +his mad little domestic plot, he had been first utterly amazed and then +utterly repelled. And it was not until a final sense of the old man's +genuine need was borne in upon him, of his loneliness, his helplessness, +and his entire dependence upon him, Varney, that he had consented to +undertake the extraordinary commission. + +In a sense, it was all simply preposterous. Here was he, Laurence +Varney, in sane mind, of law-abiding habits and hitherto of tolerable +standing in the community, solemnly pledged to go and steal the person +of a child, in defiance and contempt of the statutes of all known +nations. And the place where this lawless deed was to be done was not +Ruritania or the hazy dominions of Prince Otto, but a commonplace, +humdrum American town, not an hour and a half from his office chair by +the expresses. + +In going about this task he was to conduct himself with the frankness +and straightforwardness of a sneak-thief. Not a soul in New York was to +know where he had gone. Not a soul in Hunston must dimly suspect what he +had come for. It must be gum-shoe work from start to finish, and the +_Cypriani's_ motto would be the inspiring word, "Sh-h-h." Though he had +to find a nondescript child whom he did not know from Eve, he was +forbidden to do it in a natural, easy, and dashing way. He could not +ring her mother's door-bell, ask for her, throw a meal-sack over her +head, and whip his waiting horses to a gallop. No, he must beat the tall +grasses before the old homestead until such time as she chose to walk +abroad alone. Really, when you came to think of it, it was an asinine +sort of proposition. + +But when Mary did come out of that house, he saw that the fun would +begin. A well brought-up, moneyed, petted and curled girl of twelve was +no easy pawn in anybody's game. He could not win her love by a mere +offer of gum-drops. In fact, getting acquainted was likely to be a +difficult matter, taxing his ingenuity to a standstill. But he +entertained no doubts of his ability to do it, sooner or later. + +"Not to put too fine a point on it," mused he, glancing out of his +twentieth story window, "they flock to me, children do. I'm their good +old Uncle Dudley. But why the deuce isn't she five years younger?" + +Clearly, it was the next step that was the most delicate: getting Mary +aboard the yacht. This was both the crux and the _finale_ of the whole +thing: for Uncle Elbert was to be waiting for them, in a closed +carriage, at a private dock near 130th Street (Peter remaining in +Hunston to notify him by telephone of the start down), and Varney's +responsibilities were over when the _Cypriani_ turned her nose homeward. +But here lay the thin ice. If anything should happen to go wrong at the +moment when they were coaxing Mary on the yacht, if there was a leak in +their plans or anybody suspected anything, he saw that the situation +might be exceedingly awkward. The penalties for being fairly caught with +the goods promised to be severe. As to kidnapping, he certainly +remembered reading in the newspapers that some States punished it with +death. At any rate, maybe the natives would try to thrash him and Peter. +In hopeful moments he conjured up visions of the deuce to pay. + +But, after all, he was going to Hunston, whether he liked it or not, +simply because Uncle Elbert had asked him. The lonely old gentleman, he +knew, loved him like a son: he had turned straight to him in his hour of +need. This had touched the young man, and had finally made up his mind +for him. Moreover Mary, a spoiled little piece who was suffered to set +her smug childish will against the combined wills of both her parents, +aroused his keenest antipathy. To put her in her place, to teach her +that children must obey their parents in the Lord, was a duty to +society, to the State. What Uncle Elbert wanted with such a child, he +could not conceive; but since he did want her, have her he should. +Tilting back his office chair and running his hand through his hair, +Varney longed to spank her. + +This thought came to him, definitely and for about the seventh time, at +half-past one o'clock on the third day, Monday. At the same moment, his +telephone-bell rang sharply. It was the sailing-master to say that his +good spouse had come aboard and that everything on the _Cypriani_ was in +readiness for the start. + +"I'll be on board inside of an hour," said Varney. + +He telephoned to Uncle Elbert, telephoned to Peter, and locked up his +desk. To his office he casually gave out that pressing business matters +were calling him out of town for a day or two. + +The two young men had been as furtive as possible about their proposed +journey. They had not met since the night Varney had dangled the hope of +jail and disgrace into Peter's lightening face, and so, or otherwise, +cajoled him into going along. Both of them had kept carefully away from +the _Cypriani_. Now they proceeded to her by different routes, and +reached her at different times, Peter first. Their luggage had gone +aboard before them, and there was no longer a thing to wait for. At +three o'clock, on Varney's signal, the ship's bell sounded, her whistle +shrieked, and she slid off through the waters of the bay. + +About the start there was nothing in the least dramatic: they had merely +begun moving through the water and that was all. The _Cypriani_, for all +her odd errand, was merely one of a thousand boats which indifferently +crossed each other's wakes in one of the most crowded harbors in the +world. + +"For all the lime-light we draw," observed Maginnis, drinking in the +freshening breeze, "we might be running up to Harlem to address the +fortnightly meeting of a Girls' Friendly Society." + +Varney said: "Give us a chance, will you?" + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +THEY ARRIVE IN HUNSTON AND FALL IN WITH A STRANGER + +The landscape near Hunston, as it happened, was superfluously pretty. It +deserved a group of resident artists to admire and to catch it upon +canvas; and it had, roughly speaking, only artisans out of a job. The +one blot was the town, sprawling hideously over the hillside. Set down +against the perennial wood, by the side of the everlasting river, it +looked very cheap and common. But all this was by day. Now night fell +upon the poor little city and mercifully hid it from view. + +They had made the start too late for hurry to be any object. It was only +a three hours' run for the _Cypriani_, but she took it slowly, using +four. At half-past six o'clock, when their destination was drawing near, +the two men went below and dined. At seven, while they were still at +table, they heard the slow-down signal, and, a moment later, the rattle +of the anchor line. Now, at quarter-past seven, Varney lounged alone by +the starboard rail and acquainted himself with the purview. + +They had run perhaps quarter of a mile above the town, for reasons which +he had not communicated to the sailing-master in transmitting his +orders. One was that they might be removed somewhat from native +curiosity. The other was, they might be near the Carstairs residence, +which was up this way somewhere. So, between the yacht and the town lay +hill and wood intervening. The _Cypriani_, so to say, had anchored in +the country. Only a light glimmering here and there through the trees +indicated the nearness of man's abode. + +A soporific quality lurked in the quiet solitude, and Varney, sunk in a +deck-chair, yawned. They had decided at dinner that they would do +nothing that night but go to bed, for it seemed plain that there was +nothing else to do: little girls did not ramble abroad alone after dark. +Up the companion-way and over the glistening after-deck strolled Peter, +an eye-catching figure in the flooding moonlight. For, retiring to his +stateroom from the table, he had divested himself of much raiment and +encased his figure in a great purple bathrobe. He was a man who loved to +be comfortable, was Peter. Topping the robe, he wore his new Panama. +Varney looked around at the sound of footsteps, and was considerably +struck by his friend's appearance. + +"Feeling well, old man?" he asked with solicitude. + +"Certainly." + +"Not seasick at all? You won't let me fetch you the hot-water bottle?" + +"No, ass." + +Peter sank down in an upholstered wicker chair with pillows in it, and +looked out appreciatively at the night. The yacht's lights were set, but +her deck bulbs hung dark; for the soft and shimmering radiance of the +sky made man's illumination an offense. + +However, aesthetics, like everything else, has its place in human +economy and no more. No one aboard the _Cypriani_ became so absorbed in +the marvels of nature as to become insensible to other pleasures. The +air, new and fine from the hands of its Maker, acquired a distinct +flavor of nicotine as it flitted past the yacht. From some hidden depth +rose the subdued and convalescent snores of that early retirer, the +sailing-master's wife. Below forward, two deck-hands were thoughtfully +playing set-back for pennies, while a machinist sat by and read a +sporting extra by a swinging bulb. Above forward, on a coil of rope, +McTosh, the head steward and one of Mr. Carstairs's oldest servants, +smoked a bad pipe, and expectorated stoically into the Hudson. + +The thought of the essential commonplaceness of this sort of thing +recurred to Peter Maginnis. For all his life of idleness, which was, as +it were, accidental, Peter was essentially a man of action; and life's +sedentary movements irked him sorely. + +"Who is the individual monkeying around at the bow?" he asked presently. + +"It is Mr. Bissett, the ship's engineer, who is putting a coat of white +lead over the yacht's name." + +"Aha! Aren't we old-sleuthy, though! And what's that piece of stage-play +for?" + +"All these little hookers," said Varney, "are listed in a book, which +many persons own. Why have the local press tell everybody to-morrow that +the yacht _Cypriani_ belonging to Mr. Carstairs, husband once-removed to +our own Mrs. Elbert Carstairs, is anchored off these shores?" + +"It seems," said Peter, "like a lot of smoke for such a little fire." + +He got up and sprawled on the rail, his yellow Panama pulled far over +his eyes, his gaze fixed on the shining water. + +"First and last, I've seen rivers in my time," he said presently, "big +and little, pretty and not, clean and soiled, decent and indecent. Yes, +boy," said he, "you can take it from me that I've seen the world's +darnedest in the matter of rivers, and I have liked them all from Ganges +to the Sacramento and back again. There was a time when I didn't have +that sort of personal feeling for 'em, but a little chap up in Canada, +he helped me to the light. He was the keenest on rivers I ever knew." + +He broke off to yawn greatly, started to resume, thought better of it, +checked himself, and presently said in an absent voice: + +"No, that's too long to tell." + +"There's two hours till bedtime." + +Peter straightened and began strolling aimlessly about the deck, half +regretting that they had decided to spend the evening on the yacht. +Varney looked after him with a certain sense of guilt. Against this +background of quiet night and moonlit peace, his enterprise began to +look very small and easy. A ramble through the pleasant woods over +there, a little girl met and played with, a leisurely stroll +hand-in-hand down a woodland path to the yacht--was it for this that he +had begged the assistance of Peter Maginnis, of the large administrative +abilities and the teeming energies? Varney began to be a little ashamed +of himself. To follow out Peter's own figure, it appeared that he had +called out the fire department to help him put out a smoking sheet of +note-paper on a hearth. + +Soon, in one of his goings and comings, Peter halted. "There was another +Hunston dispatch in the paper this morning," he vouchsafed. + +"Politics?" + +"Said the reform movement was a joke." + +"Good one?" + +"Good movement, you mean?" + +"No--good joke." + +"No reform movement is ever a good joke, under any circumstances +whatsoever. Where it appears a joke at all, it is the kind that would +appeal only to pinheads of the dottiest nature." + +"I see." + +"I'm going up there to-morrow," said Peter, nodding toward the town, +"and look into it a little. If there is time, I may even decide to show +these fellows how a reform proposition ought to be handled to ensure +results." + +Far off on the hill a single light twinkled through the trees, very +yellow against the pale moonlight. Varney's eye fell upon it and +absently held it. It was Mary Carstairs's light, though, of course, he +had no means of knowing that. + +Presently Peter lolled around and looked at him. "H'm! Sunk in a sodden +slumber, I suppose?" + +"Not at all. Interested by your conversation--fascinated. Ha! Here is +something to vary the evening's monotony. A row-boat is drifting +down-stream towards us. Let us make little wagers with each other as to +who'll be in it." + +He looked over his shoulder upward at the moon, which a flying scud of +cloud had momentarily veiled. Peter, who had sat down again, glanced up +the river. + +"I don't see any boat." + +"There is where the wager comes in, my son. Hurry up--the moon will pop +out in another minute, and spoil the sport." + +"Drifting, you say. Bet you she's empty--broke away from her moorings +and riding down with the current. Bet you half a dollar. My second bet," +he said, warming to the work, "is an old washerwoman and her little boy, +out on their rounds collecting clothes. It's Monday. In case both firsts +are wrong, second choices get the money." + +"My bet is--Ha! Stand ready with your half! There she comes--Jove!" + +"Good God!" cried Peter and sprang up. + +For the moon had jumped out from behind its cloud like a cuckoo in a +clock, and fallen full upon the drifting boat, now hardly fifty yards +away. In the bottom of it lay a man, sprawled over his useless oars, +his upturned face very white in the moonlight, limp legs huddled under +him anyhow. Something in the abandon of his position suggested that he +would not get up any more. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +WHICH CONCERNS POLITICS AND OTHER LOCAL MATTERS + +It was an odd sight against the setting of pretty night and light, idle +talk. Peter's lip tightened. + +"He's dead, poor chap!" he said, in a low voice. "Murdered." + +"So it seems. We can't be sure from here, though. Where's that watch? +Here--some of you! Lower away the dinghy! Get a move!" + +The boats were on their hooks, swung outboard ready for instant use. The +crew, tumbling out swiftly at the call, cleared away one and let it fall +over the side. The young men went down with it, Peter seizing the oars +as his by right. The floating boat with its strange cargo had drifted +close and was now lost in the vast black shadow of the yacht. + +"Where is it?" + +"I can't--Yes! There it is. Straight back. Now a little to the right. +Way enough!" + +Varney, in the stern, leaned out and gripped the drifting gunwale +securely. But it was so dark here that he could see almost nothing. + +"He's breathing, I think," he said, his hand against the strange man's +chest. "Pull out into the light." + +But just then the arm that lay under the still head unmistakably +twitched. + +"Good!" cried Peter and laughed a little. "Strike a match and let's have +a look at him." + +Varney fumbled in his pockets, found one and scratched it on the side. +Shielding the flame in his curved hand, he leaned forward and held it +close to that motionless face. + +It was a young face, pale and rather haggard, lined about the mouth and +yellow about the eyes; the face of a clever but broken gentleman. Full +of contrasts and a story as it was, it would have been a striking face +at any time; and to the two peering men in the _Cypriani's_ boat, it was +now very striking indeed. For they saw immediately that the curious eyes +were half open and were fixed full upon them. + +The match burned Varney's fingers, went out and dropped into the water. +He said nothing. Neither did Peter. The man in the boat did not stir. So +went by a second of profound stillness. Then a somewhat blurred voice +said: + +"When a gentleman goes rowing--in a private boat--and is raided by a +pair of unknown investigators--one of them wearing a Mother Hubbard-- +who strike matches in his face and make personal remarks--he naturally +awaits their explanations." + +The speech fell upon four of the most astonished ears in the State of +New York. + +Peter recovered first: the remark about the Mother Hubbard had stung him +a little, even in that dumfounded moment, but he only laughed. + +"The fact is, we made absolutely sure that you were a corpse. Our +mistake." + +"But God save us!" murmured the young man. "Can't a man die these days +without a yacht-full of anxious persons steaming up and clamping a light +against his eyeball?" + +"But can't we do something for you?" asked Varney. "That's what we are +here for." + +The young man lay still and thought a moment, which he appeared to do +with some difficulty. + +"To be frank," his voice came out of the dark, rather clearer now, "you +can. Give me a match, will you?" + +Varney laughed; he produced and handed over a little box of them. Lying +flat on his back in the boat, the young man fished a cigarette out of +his pocket, hurriedly, and stuck it between his lips. The next minute +the spurt of a match cut the air. The two in the ship's boat caught a +brief, flashing glimpse of him--thin white hands raised to thin white +face. + +"Something of a _poseur_, aren't you?" suggested Peter pleasantly. +"What's your rôle to-night?" + +There followed a fractional pause. + +"That of a vagrant student of manners and customs," answered the +colorless voice. "Therefore, to imitate your frankness, you interest me +greatly." + +"Those who study manners," said Peter, "should learn them after a while. +Why didn't you sing out, when you saw us hustling to get out a boat, and +tell us not to bother, as you were only playing dead for the lark of the +thing?" + +"Singing, whether out or in, is an art at which I can claim small +proficiency. But tell me the time, will you? I seem to have hocked my +watch." + +Peter laughed a little ruefully. "It's seven thirty-six--no more and no +less." + +The young man sat up with an effort, and uncertainly gathered up his +oars. + +"You'll excuse me, then?" he said. "I have an engagement at seven +thirty, and as you see, there is little time to make it." + +"We gave you a light," said Peter. "Why not reciprocate? Who the devil +are you?" + +"I am a part of all that I have met," said the stranger, pulling off. "I +am wily wandering Ulysses. I am--" + +"That will do," said Peter sharply. + +He bowed gravely and rowed away. Peter looked after him for some time, +in rather impressive silence. + +"What d' you suppose was the matter with the beggar, anyway? He wasn't +drunk." + +"Didn't you notice his wrists when he held them up to light his +cigarette? Full of little scars." + +Peter whistled. "So morphine is his trouble, is it? Listen!" + +From down the river rose a faint roar, like the sound of many voices a +long way off. While the two men listened, it subsided and then rose +again. + +"Hello!" said Varney. "Look at your student of manners and customs now." + +The man in the boat was still plainly discernible, his face picked out +by the moon in greenish white. But there was no longer any lethargy in +his manner. He was bending his back to his best stroke--an excellent one +it was--and driving his light bark rapidly down the stream. + +"My bet," said Varney, "is that he hears those shouts, and they mean +something to him--something interesting and important." + +"Larry, be a sport! Let's follow this thing along and find out what it +all means." + +"Oh, I'm willing to drop into town for a little reconnoissance, if you +like. Maybe we can pick up something that will help us in our business." + +"Spoken like a scholar and a gentleman. One minute while I get on my +clothes. Oh--by the way! Er--this new--robe of mine doesn't look like a +Mother Hubbard, does it?" + +"In my opinion," said Varney, "two things could not well be more utterly +unlike." + +Peter was back in five minutes, clothed and in his right mind. His +falling foot hit the center-line of the gig with a thump, and they shot +away toward the town wharf. + +They bade the boat wait their signal in the shadows a little upstream, +and jumped out upon the old and rotting landing. A street ran straight +before them, up a steep hill and into the heart of the town, and they +took it, guided by a burst of still distant laughter and hoarse shouts. +Toiling up the evil sidewalk, they looked about curiously at the town +which was to engage their attention for the next day or so. Over +everything hung that vague air of dejection and moral decay which is so +hard to define and so easy to detect. The street was lit with feeble +electric lights which did little more than nullify the moon. Grass grew +at its pleasure through the broken brick pavement; and even in that +dimness, it was very evident that the White Wing department had been +taking a long vacation. + +Varney's eye took in everything. It occurred to him that this was a most +extraordinary place for the family of the exquisite and well-fixed +Elbert Carstairs to live. Hard on the heels of that came another thought +and he stopped. + +"What's the matter?" said Peter. + +"We simply mustn't get mixed up in any doings here, you know. Can't +afford it. Whatever is going on, our rôle must be that of quiet +onlookers only. Remember that." + +"Quiet onlookers it is. Hello! Did you see that?" + +"What?" + +"Old duck in a felt hat walking behind us, a good distance off--I'd +heard him for some time. He stopped when we stopped, and when I turned +then I was just in time to see him go skipping up the side street." + +"Well, what of it?" + +"Not a thing. I'm interested in the sights of the town, that's all. +Listen to those hoodlums, will you?" + +In the middle of that block rose a great public building of florid and +hideous architecture, absurdly expensive for so small a town, and +running fast to seed. On the corner ahead, at the crest of the slope, +stood the handsomest and most prosperous-looking building they had yet +seen. Its long side was cut by many windows, all brilliantly lit up, and +above the lower tier ran the gold-lettered legend: + +WINES & LIQUORS. THE OTTOMAN. D. RYAN. + +"When the saloon-keeper is the richest man in town," observed Peter, +"look out for trouble." + +A roar of laughter, mingled with various derisive cries, broke out just +then, now from very near. The next minute the two men reached the brow +of the hill, and both stopped involuntarily, arrested by the tableau +which met their gaze beyond. + +They stood on the upper side of a little rectangular "square," at the +lower edge of which, some fifty yards away, were gathered possibly +thirty or forty jostling and noisy men. Facing them, standing on a +carriage-block at the curb, stood a cool little man obviously engaged in +making a speech. The commonness of the men and the rough joviality of +their mood were the more accentuated by the supreme dignity of the +orator. He was a very small man, with pink cheeks and eye-glasses, +beautifully made and still more beautifully dressed; and for all their +boisterous "jollying" his auditors appeared rather to like him than the +contrary. + +The men from the _Cypriani_ crossed the square and came up with the +merry-making Hunstonians. Varney's gaze went round the circle of faces +and saw inefficiency, shiftlessness, and failure everywhere stamped +upon them. Suddenly his wandering eye was arrested by a face of quite a +different sort. Directly opposite stood the eccentric young man of the +row-boat, watching the show out of listless eyes whose expression never +changed. + +"On that horse-block," said Peter, raising his voice to carry above an +outburst of catcalls and allegedly humorous comment, "stands the Hunston +Reform Movement. Giving 'em a ripping talk, too--all out of Bryce, Mill, +and the other fellows." + +But at that moment, as luck had it, the oratory came to a sudden end. A +sportive bull-pup, malevolently released by some one in the crowd, +danced up to the horse-block, barking joyfully, and made a lightning +dive for the spellbinder's legs. The spellbinder dexterously +side-stepped; the dog's aim was diverted from that fleshy portion of the +thigh which his fancy had selected; but his snapping teeth closed firmly +in the tail of the pretty light-gray coat, which the little man wore +rather long according to the mode of the day. And there he swung, +kicking and snarling, squirming and grunting, in the liveliest fashion +imaginable. + +Merry pandemonium broke out among the onlookers; they howled with +shameless delight. It was hardly a pleasant scene to witness, though +redeemed by the little orator's gameness. His face, when he took in what +had happened to him, slowly turned the color of a sheet of white paper. +With indescribable dignity, he descended from his rostrum, carrying the +dog along, and walked out into the ring. In front of a tall, +loose-jointed, scraggly-mustached fellow he paused, and stared him in +the eye with steady fixity. + +"T-t-take your d-d-damned d-dog off me, Hackley," he said, stuttering +badly, but very cool. + +But Hackley backed away, shaking his head and bellowing with laughter. +In an ecstasy of delight, the onlookers began pressing more closely +about the men, narrowing the circle. And then it was that Peter, quite +forgetting his rôle of quiet onlooker and unable for his life to +restrain himself longer, put his shoulder to the ring and broke a +vigorous way through. He touched the little orator on the arm. + +"No need to trouble the gentleman," Varney heard him say pleasantly. +"Just hold the position a moment, please." And so saying he swung back +his foot. + +It landed with an impact that was loud and not agreeable to the ear. The +dog dropped with a frightful howl and, yelping madly, fled. +Simultaneously, cries arose about the ringside, and the dog's owner, an +alcoholic blaze in his eye, spat bitterly into his two palms and headed +straight for Peter. + +"What in the blank-blank d' yer mean by kickin' my blank dog, you +blank-blankety-blank, you?" he inquired. + +"I meant that he was behaving as no dog should," explained Peter, "and +the same remark applies to you." + +He was not without skill at fisticuff, was Hackley. With the speed of a +tiger, he let out first his left fist, then his right, at Peter +Maginnis's head. But instead of arriving there, they collided with a +forearm which had about the resiliency of a two-foot stone-wall. +Simultaneously, Peter released his famous left-hook--had of the Bronx +Barman at ten dollars a lesson--and the fight was over. + +Mr. Hackley's head struck first, and struck passionately; men picked him +up and bore him limply from the field. And Peter, a tiny spot of red in +the corner of his right eye, spoke thus to the horseshoe of watching +faces: + +"You're a devil of a fine gang of red-hot sports, aren't you, boys? A +whole regiment of you with no more decency than to pick on one man like +this. I come from a white man's country where this kind of thing doesn't +go--thank God! And any man who has formed a bad opinion of my manners +and my general style of conversation can just step out into the ring and +let me explain my system to him." + +But nobody accepted that invitation. Possibly the rub was that no one +cared to see that left-hook work again, at his own expense, or to +encourage any trouble to come athwart his quiet career. At any rate, +there were a few mutterings here and there; and then some one sang out: + +"None fer mine, Mister! I ain't took out my life insurance yet." + +There was a general laugh at this, and with that laugh Peter knew that +all hope of more fighting was gone. He bade them a sardonic good-night, +hooked his arm through the orator's (who actually showed signs of an +intention to resume his speech), and bore him off down the street. + +The three men walked half a block in silence, and then the little +stranger stopped short. + +"I say," he said in a faintly unsteady voice, "I want to thank you for +taking that confounded dog off me. In another minute he might have torn +my coat, don't you know?" + +"Oh, that's all right," said Peter, repressing a smile. "Kicking dogs is +rather a specialty of mine, and it isn't often I get the chance to +attend to two of them in one evening. I wouldn't give the episode +another thought." + +The little man gave a sudden fierce laugh. "Oh, certainly not! It's a +mere bagatelle for a candidate for Mayor to get a hand-out like that +from a gathering of voters!" + +"Mayor! I beg your pardon! Of course I didn't quite understand." + +Whereupon Peter begged to introduce himself as an ardent amateur +statesman, a student of good government from New Hampshire to New +Zealand and from Plato to Lincoln Steffens, who had--er--come to Hunston +hoping to see something of the fight for reform. The candidate, in turn, +produced cards. It became apparent that he bore the name of J. Pinkney +Hare. And the upshot of the colloquy was that the two young men +presently found themselves invited to call upon Candidate Hare next +morning, and learn something of the situation. + +"I'll be delighted," accepted Peter promptly,--"delighted." + +"That's settled then. Good-night--and thanks awf'ly for your +assistance." + +He pivoted on his trim heels, abruptly, and went away up the side +street. + +Peter turned to Varney with a faint grin. "That chap gets his first +lesson in the art of being a reformer to-morrow. Curious, wasn't +it?--stumbling right into the heart of the agitation an hour after we +hit the town." + +Varney, who had followed Peter's activities of the last five minutes +with considerable disapproval, did not answer his smile. + +"Give me a hasty sketch of your conception of a quiet onlooker, will +you, Peter?" + +"Tush!" said Peter. "Why, can't you see that this sort of thing will +make the finest kind of blind? St! Here's our little friend coming back +again." + +"I say," called the voice of J. Pinkney Hare out of the gloom. + +"Yes?" said Peter. + +The candidate drew nearer. + +"Our city is not plentifully supplied with amusements," he began in his +somewhat pompous manner. "It just occurred to me that, in lieu of +anything better, you gentlemen might care to go home with me now. I +should be happy to have you--and to reciprocate your courtesy in any way +within my power." + +Peter, doubtless remembering the slow time he had been having on the +yacht, brightened instantly and visibly. + +"Why, _thanks_. I'll be awfully glad to come. I--er--I'm tremendously +interested in your situation here, I assure you." + +Then, catching a warning glance from Varney, who politely declined the +invitation, he apologized to the candidate and drew his captain briefly +aside. + +"I'll pick up all the information I can--understand?" he murmured +hurriedly. "And don't you worry. A little flurry in politics will make +the best sort of a cover for you while you sneak around after Mary." + +On that the two friends parted. Peter hurried on after the little +reformer, and Varney, turning, continued his way down Main Street toward +the river and the _Cypriani_, not entirely displeased, after all, that +Peter had found some congenial diversion for the evening. + +The street was almost a desert. If the unmistakable sounds of revelry by +night meant anything, nearly the whole population was behind him in the +Ottoman bar. But in the middle of the next block, two ragged men, +standing idly and talking together, turned at the sounds of the young +man's steps. One of them, revealed by a near-by shop-light, had straggly +gray whiskers, vacant eyes, and a bad foolish mouth. Both of them stared +at Varney with marked intentness. He had to go quite out of his way to +get round them. + +"They don't see strangers every day, I take it," he thought absently; +and suddenly he cast an inquiring eye at the heavens. + +The night, so shining half an hour before, was becoming heavily +overcast. Clouds had rolled up from nowhere and blotted out the moon. +About him the night breeze was freshening with a certain significance; +and now unexpectedly there fell upon his ear the faint far rumble of +thunder. Decidedly, there would be rain, and that right soon. Varney +quickened his pace. + +At the end of that quiet block he came upon a crimson-cheeked lady, +somewhat past her first youth and over-plump for beauty, who was engaged +in putting up the shutters at her mother's grocery establishment. +Glancing around casually at his approach, her glance became transfixed +into a stare. + +"Well!" she exclaimed in surprise and not without coquettishness--"if it +ain't Mr. Ferris!" + +"If it ain't Mr. Ferris--what then?" asked Varney. "For, madam, I assure +you that it ain't." + +The woman, taken aback by this denial, only stared and had no reply +ready. But the young man, walking on, was set to thinking by this second +encounter, and presently he mused: "I'm somebody's blooming double, +that's what. I wonder whose." + +And on that word, as though to get an answer to his speculation, he +suddenly halted and turned. + +He had now progressed nearly a block from the buxom young woman of the +grocery. For some time, even before that meeting, he had been aware of +light, steady footsteps behind him on the dark street, gaining on him. +By this time they had come very near; and now as he wheeled sharply, +with a vague anticipation of Peter's "old duck in a felt hat," he found +himself face to face with quite a different figure--that of a thin young +man whom he recognized. + +"Bless us!" said Varney urbanely. "It's the student of manners again." + +The pale young stranger stopped two paces away and gave back his look +with the utmost composure. + +"Still on my studies," said he, in his flat tones--"though I doubt," he +added thoughtfully, "if that fully explains why I have followed you." + +"Ah? Perhaps I may venture to ask what would explain it more fully?" + +"Oh, certainly. My real motive was to suggest, purely because of a +paternal interest I take in you, that you leave town to-morrow +morning--you and your ferocious friend." + +Varney eyed him amusedly. "But is not this somewhat--er--precipitate?" + +"Oh, not a bit of it. In fact, you hardly require me to tell you, Beany, +that you were a great fool to come back at all." + +"Beany!" + +"You don't mind if I sit down?" + +A row of packing-cases clogged the sidewalk at the point where they +stood, and the young man dropped down wearily upon one of them, and +leaned back against the store-front. + +"Beany?" repeated Varney. + +"It was dark down on the river," observed the other slowly, "but the +instant I saw you on the square, I recognized you, and so, my friend, +will everybody else." + +"With even better success, I trust, than you have done. For my name is +not Beany, but indeed Varney--Laurence Varney--permit me--" + +"Ah, well! Stick it out if you prefer. In any case--" + +"But do tell me the name of this individual to whom I bear such a +marked resemblance. I naturally--" + +"The individual to whom you bear such a marked, I may say such a very +marked, resemblance," said the stranger, mockingly, "is a certain Mr. +Ferris Stanhope, a prosperous manufacturer of pink-tea literature. You +never heard the name--of course. But never mind about that. I should +advise you both to leave town anyway." + +"Is it trespassing too far if I ask--" + +"Any one who associates with little Hare, as I have a premonition that +you two will do if you stay, is born to trouble as the sparks fly +upward." + +Varney came a step nearer and rested his foot on the edge of the +packing-case. + +"Now that," said he, "is by all odds the best thing you've said yet. +Elucidate it a bit, won't you? I admit to some curiosity about that +little tableau in the square--" + +"Yes? Well, I owe you one for that box of matches, Beany--er--Mr.--and +it would be rather asinine for you or your pugilistic partner to begin +monkeying with our buzz-saw. I happened, you see, to overhear part of +your talk with J. Pinkney Hare just now. How others might view it I know +not, but to me it seemed only fair to warn you that that interesting +young man must be shunned by the wise. As to the mayoralty, he has as +much chance of getting in as a jack-rabbit has of butting a way through +the Great Wall of China. For we have a great wall here of the sturdiest +variety." + +He meant, as he briefly explained, the usual System, and back of it the +usual Boss: one Ryan, owner of the Ottoman saloon and the city of +Hunston, who held the town in the hollow of his coarse hand, and was +slowly squeezing it to death. + +"The election," he went on listlessly, "is only two weeks off, but the +rascal isn't lifting a finger. He doesn't have to. To-morrow night he +holds what he calls his annual 'town-meeting'--a fake and a joke. The +trustful people gather, listen to speeches by Ryan retainers, quaff free +lemonade. Nominally, everybody is invited to speak; really only the +elect are permitted to. I saw a reform candidate try it once, and it was +interesting to see how scientifically they put a crimp in him." + +"And J. Pinkney Hare?" queried Varney becoming rather interested. + +Was everything, the young man explained, that Ryan was not--able, +honest, unselfish, public-spirited. Studying the situation quietly for a +year, he had uncovered a most unholy trail of graft leading to high +places. But when he began to try to tell the people about it, he found +his way hopelessly blocked at every turn. + +"He can't even hire a hall," summarized the stranger. "Not to save his +immortal soul. That was the meaning of the ludicrous exhibition a few +minutes ago. In one word, he can't get a hearing. He might talk with the +tongues of men and angels, but nobody will listen to him. It is a dirty +shame. But what in the world can you expect? Lift a finger against the +gang, and, presto, your job's gone, and you can't find another high or +low. Ryan's money goes everywhere--into the schools, the church, the +press. The press. That, of course, is the System's most powerful ally. +The--infamous _Hollaston Gazette_--" + +"The _Hollaston Gazette_--is that published here?" asked Varney in +surprise, for the _Gazette_ was famous: one of those very rare +small-town newspapers which, by reason of great age and signal editorial +ability, have earned a national place in American journalism. + +"Named after the county. You have heard of it?" said the young man in a +faintly mocking voice, and immediately went on: "The _Gazette_ is eighty +years old. Even now, in these bad times, everybody in the county takes +it. They get all their opinions from it, ready-made. It is their Bible. +A fool can see what a power such a paper is. For seventy-seven years the +_Gazette_ fully deserved it. That was the way it won it. But all that is +changed now. And the paper is making a great deal of money." + +"It is crooked, then?" + +"I said, did I not, that it was for Ryan?" + +He lounged further back in the shadows upon his packing-case; he +appeared not to be feeling well at all. Varney regarded him with puzzled +interest. + +"A very depressing little story," he suggested, "but after all, hardly a +novel one. I don't yet altogether grasp why--" + +"Your Jeffries of a friend is a red-hot political theorist, isn't he?" +asked the other apathetically. "Our Hunston politicians are practical +men. They are after results, and seek them with small regard, I fear, +to copy-book precepts. You follow me? Rusticating strangers, visiting +sociological students, itinerant idealists, these would do well to speak +softly and walk on the sunny side of the road." + +"You appear," said Varney, his curiosity increasingly piqued, "to speak +of these matters with authority--" + +"Rather let us say with certitude." + +"Possibly you yourself have felt the iron-toothed bite of the machine?" + +"I?" + +"Why not?" + +The young man looked shocked; slowly his pale face took on a look of +cynical amusement. "Yes, yes. Certainly. Who more so?" He appeared to +hesitate a moment, and then added with a laugh which held a curious +tinge of defiance: "In fact, I myself have the honor of being the owner +and editor of the _Gazette_--Coligny Smith, at your service--" + +"Coligny Smith!" echoed Varney amazed. + +The young man glanced up. "It was my father you have heard of. He died +three years ago. However," he added, with an odd touch of pride, "he +always said that I wrote the better articles." + +There was a moment's silence. Varney felt by turns astonished, +disgusted, sorry, embarrassed. Then he burst out laughing. + +"Well, you have a nerve to tell me this. Smith. In doing so, you seem to +have brought our conversation to a logical conclusion. I thank you for +your kindly advice and piquant confession, and so, good evening." + +Mr. Smith straightened on his packing-case and spoke with unexpected +eagerness. + +"Oh--must you go? The night's so young--why not--come up to the Ottoman +and have something? I'll--I'd be glad to explain--" + +"I fear I cannot yield to the editorial blandishments this evening." + +"Well--I merely--" + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing. But remember--you'll get into trouble if you stay." + +Varney laughed. + +He went on toward his waiting gig feeling vaguely displeased with the +results of his half-hour ashore, and deciding that for the future it +would be best to give the town a wide berth. The privacy of the yacht +better suited his mission than Main Street, Hunston. However, the end +was not yet. He had not reached the landing before a thought came to him +which stopped him in his tracks. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +INTRODUCES MARY CARSTAIRS AND ANOTHER + +Clearly he must see Peter, at once, before that impetuous enthusiast had +had time to involve himself in anything, and tell him bluntly that he +must leave the affairs of Hunston alone until their own delicate +business had been safely disposed of. + +In such a matter as this it was not safe to take chances. Varney had a +curious feeling that young Mr. Smith's melodramatic warnings had been +offered in a spirit of friendliness, rather than of hostility. +Nevertheless, the eccentric young man had unmistakably threatened them. +While Varney had been more interested by the man, personally, than by +his whimsical menaces, the editor's conversation could certainly not be +called reassuring. Smith owned a corrupt newspaper; he was a clever man +and, by his own confession, an unscrupulous one, bought body and soul by +the local freebooters; and if he thought the headlong intruder Maginnis +important enough to warrant it, there were presumably no lengths to +which he would not go to make the town uncomfortable for him, to the +probable prejudice of their mission. Clearly, here was a risk which he, +as Mr. Carstairs's emissary, had no right to incur. The _Cypriani_ was +in no position to stand the fire of vindictive yellow journalism. +Besides, there was the complicating matter of his own curious +resemblance to somebody whom, it seemed, Hunston knew, and not too +favorably. + +Considerably annoyed, Varney turned his face back toward the town. To +avoid more publicity, he turned off the main thoroughfare to a narrow +street which paralleled it, and, walking rapidly, came in five minutes +to the street where Peter and the little candidate had left him. This +street came as a surprise to him: Hunston's best "residence section" +beyond doubt. It was really pretty, spaciously wide and flanked by +handsome old trees. Houses rose at increasingly long intervals as one +got away from the town; and they were for the most part charming-looking +houses, set in large lawns and veiled from public scrutiny by much fine +foliage. + +Varney cast about for somebody who would give him his bearings, and had +not far to look. + +Puffing stolidly on the butt of an alleged cigar, into which he had +stuck a sharpened match as a visible means of support, a boy who was +probably not so old as he looked sat upon the curbstone at the corner, +and claimed the world for his cuspidor. He was an ill-favored runt of a +boy, with a sedate manner and a face somewhat resembling a hickory-nut. + +Varney, approaching, asked him where Mr. Hare lived. Without turning +around, or desisting an instant from the tending of his cigar (which, +indeed, threatened a decease at any moment), the boy replied: + +"Acrost an' down, one half a block. Little yaller house wit' green +blinds and ornings. Yer could n't miss it. Yer party left dere ten +minutes ago, dough." + +"What party?" asked Varney puzzled. + +"Tall big party wit' yaller hat, stranger here. Seen him beatin' it out +the street for the road, him and Hare. Goin' some, they was." + +"How did you know I was looking for that party?" + +"Took a chanst," said the boy. "Do I win?" + +His stoical gravity made Varney smile. "You do--a good cigar. That one +of yours has one foot in the grave, hasn't it?" + +"T'ank you, boss." + +"By the way," he added casually, struck by a thought, "Mrs. Carstairs +must live on this street somewhere, doesn't she? Which way?" + +"Same way as yer party went. Last house on de street--Remsen Street. Big +white one, up on a hill like." + +Varney hurried off on the trail of his elusive friend. He was puzzled in +the last degree to know why Peter, having just entered Hare's house, +should have left it at once and gone racing off, with Hare, down this +empty street toward the open country. The one explanation that occurred +to him was on the whole an unwelcome one. This was that he had made an +opening to introduce the subject of Mary Carstairs, and the grateful +candidate had volunteered his friendly offices--perhaps to show Peter +the house, perhaps actually to take him up and present him. + +In the light of a depressed corner-lamp he glanced at his watch. Having +supposed that it must be nearly nine o'clock, he was surprised to find +that it was only a few minutes after eight. He had the handsome street +to himself. The night had grown very dark, and the faint but continuous +rumble of thunder was a warning to all pedestrians to seek shelter +without delay. Varney's stride was swift. Whatever Peter meant to do, he +wanted to overtake him before he did it, and gently lead him to +understand, here at the outset, that he was a subordinate in this +expedition, expected to do nothing without orders from above. + +But he found himself at the end of the street, and saw the country road +dimly winding on beyond, without having found a trace of Peter, or seen +any other human being. Here, for all his hurry, he was checked for a +moment by a sudden new interest. Mindful of the boy's succinct +directions, he paused in the shadow of the wood, which here came to the +sidewalk's edge, and looked across the street for the residence of Mrs. +Carstairs. + +Through the trees of a sloping lawn, his gaze fell at once upon a wide +rambling white house, directly opposite, well back from the street and +approached by a winding white driveway. The house was well lighted; +there was a porch-lamp lit; over the carriage-gate hung a large electric +globe. Despite the darkness of the night, Varney had a first-rate view. +The house was big; it was white; unquestionably it was up on a hill +like. In fact there could be no doubt in the world that this was the +house he had come from New York to find. + +The sight drew and interested him beyond all expectation. Presently, by +a curious coincidence, something happened which increased his interest +tenfold. His eye had run over the house, about the lawn, even up at the +windows, taking in every detail. There was no sign of life anywhere. But +now as he stood and watched, the swing front-door was unexpectedly +pushed open, and, like some feat in mental telepathy, a girl stepped out +upon the piazza. + +Involuntarily Varney shrank back into the shadows, assuming by instinct +the best conspirators' style, and glued his eyes upon the impelling +sight. Not that the girl herself was peculiarly fascinating to the eye. +The porch-light revealed her perfectly: a small, dark, nondescript +child, not above thirteen years old, rather badly dressed and, to say +truth, not attractive-looking in any way. But to Varney, at the moment, +she was the most irresistibly interesting figure in the six continents. + +She came to the top of the step and stood there, peering out into the +darkness as though looking for some one. Varney, from his dark retreat +stared back at her. There they stood unexpectedly face to face, the +kidnapper and his quarry. A sudden wild impulse seized the young man to +act immediately: to make a dash from his cover, bind the girl's mouth +with his handkerchief, toss her over his shoulder, and fly with her to +the yacht. That was the way these things ought to be done, not by the +tedious and furtive methods of chicanery. But, since this man-like +method was forbidden him, why should he not at least cross boldly and go +in--a lost wayfarer inquiring for directions--anything to start up the +vitally necessary acquaintance? Would he ever have a better chance? + +The thought had hardly come to him before the child herself killed it. +She turned as suddenly as she had come and disappeared into the house. +That broke the spell; and Varney, interested by the discovery that his +heart was beating above normal, slipped unseen from his lurking-place, +and resumed his interrupted progress after Peter and Hare. + +Beyond the Carstairs's fence of hedge, the houses stopped with the +sidewalk. The highway, having no longer anything to keep up appearances +for, dwindled into an ordinary country road, meandering through an +ordinary country wood. What could have carried Peter out here it was +impossible to conceive; but clearly something had, and Varney raced on, +hoping at every moment to descry his great form looming up ahead of him +out of the blackness. + +What luck--what beautiful luck--to have found her in his very first hour +in Hunston! It was half his work done in the wink of an eye. To-morrow +morning, the first thing, he would return to this quiet street, watch at +his ease for the child to come outdoors, saunter calmly from his +hiding-place, make friends with her. By this time to-morrow night, in +all human probability, he would be back in New York, his errand safely +accomplished. That done, Peter could play politics to his heart's +content. Meantime, it was more desirable than ever to tell him of these +unexpected developments and deter him from taking any step which might +complicate the game.... + +A loud thunderclap crashed across the train of his thought. Another and +a worse one crowded close upon it. He glanced up through the trees into +the inky cavern of the skies, and a single large drop of water spattered +upon his upturned forehead. + +"Hang it!" he thought disgustedly. "Here comes the rain." + +It came as though at his word, and with unbelievable suddenness. Thunder +rolled; the breeze stiffened into a gale. Another drop fell upon his +hat, and then another, and another. The young man came to an unwilling +halt. + +But he immediately saw that further pursuit was, for the moment at +least, out of the question. The storm broke with a violence strangely at +variance with the calm of the earlier evening. The heavens opened and +the floods descended. Shelter was to be found at once, if at all, but as +he hesitated, he remembered suddenly that he had not passed a house in +five minutes. In the same moment his eye fell upon a little cottage just +ahead of him, unlighted and barely perceptible in the thick darkness, +standing off the road not a hundred feet away. He made for it through +the driving rain and wind, stepped upon the narrow porch, discovered +immediately that it gave him no protection at all, and knocked loudly +upon the shut door. He got no answer. Trying it with a wet hand he +perceived that it was unlocked; and without more ado, he opened it and +stepped inside. + +It was evidently, as he had surmised, an empty house. The hall was dark +and very quiet. He leaned against the closed front door and dipped into +his pockets for a match. Behind him the rain fell in torrents, and the +turbulent wind dashed after it and hurled it against the streaming +windows. It had turned in half an hour from a peaceful evening to a wild +night, a night when all men of good sense and good fortune should be +sitting secure and snug by their own firesides. And where, oh where, was +Peter? + +Speculating gloomily on this and still exploring his pockets for a +match, he heard a noise not far away in the dark, and knew suddenly that +he was not alone. The next moment a voice floated to him out of the +blackness near at hand, clear, but a little irresolute, faintly +frightened. + +"Didn't some one come in? Who is there?" + +It was a woman's voice and a wholly charming one. There could hardly +have been its match in Hunston. + +"What a very interesting town!" the young man thought. "People to talk +to every way you turn." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +THE HERO TALKS WITH A LADY IN THE DARK + +Varney called reassuringly into the gloom: "I sincerely beg your pardon +for bursting in like that. I--had no idea there was any one here." + +There was a second's pause. + +"N--no," said the pretty voice, hesitatingly. "You--you couldn't--of +course." + +"But please tell me at once," he said, puzzled by this--"have I taken +the unforgivable liberty of breaking into your house?" + +"My house?" And he caught something like bewildered relief in her voice. +"Why--I--was thinking that I had broken into yours." + +Varney laughed, his back against the door. + +"If it were, I'm sure I should be able to offer you a light at the +least. If it were yours, now that I stop to think--well, perhaps it +_would_ be a little eccentric for you to be sitting there in your parlor +in the inky dark." + +To this there came no reply. + +"I suppose you, like me," he continued courteously, "are an unlucky +wayfarer who had to choose hastily between trespassing and being +drowned." + +"Yes." + +Inevitably he found himself wondering what this lady who shared his +stolen refuge could be like. That she was a lady her voice left no +doubt. His eye strained off into the Ethiopian blackness, but could make +neither heads nor tails of it. + +"Voices always go by contraries," he thought. "She's fifty-two and wears +glasses." + +Aloud he said: "But please tell me quite frankly--am I intruding?" + +"Not at all," said the lady, only that and nothing more. + +"Perhaps then you won't object if I find a seat? Leaning against a door +is so dull, don't you think?" + +He groped forward, hands outstretched before him, stumbled against the +stairway which he sought, and sat down uncomfortably on the +next-to-the-bottom step. Then suddenly the oddness of his situation +rushed over him, and, vexed though he was with the chain of needless +circumstances which had brought him into it, he with difficulty +repressed a laugh. + +An hour ago he had been lounging at peace upon the yacht, looking +forward to nothing more titillating than bed at the earliest respectable +hour. Now he was sitting with a strange lady of uncertain age in an +unlighted cottage on a lonely country road, while a howling thunderstorm +raved outside imprisoning him for nobody could say how long. In the +interval between these two extremes, he had discovered that he was a +"double," been threatened with violence, hopelessly lost Peter, and +found Mary Carstairs. Surely and in truth, a pretty active hour's work! + +On the tin roof of the cottage the rain beat a wild tattoo. Within, the +silence lengthened. Under the circumstances, Varney considered reserve +on the lady's part not unnatural; but a little talk, as he viewed the +matter, would tend to help the dreary evening through. + +He cleared his throat for due notice and began with a laugh. + +"I was industriously chasing two men from town when the storm caught me. +You know what I mean--not drumming them out of the city, but merely +pursuing them in this general direction. I wonder if by any chance you +happened to pass them on the road?" + +"N-no, I believe not." + +"A very small man, very well-dressed, and a very large man, very badly +dressed, wearing a kind of curious, rococo straw hat. I know," he mused, +"that you could not have forgotten that hat. Once seen--" + +"Oh!" she exclaimed with sudden evidences of interest--"do tell me--is +the smaller man you mention Mr. Hare?" + +"He is indeed," he answered surprised. "You know him? Oh, +yes,--certainly! In Hunston--" + +"Know him!" said she in tones of hardly suppressed indignation. "It is +he who is responsible for my being caught in this--this annoying +predicament." + +At something in the way the lady said that, Varney unconsciously chipped +twenty years off her age and conceded that she might be no more than +thirty-two. + +"I'm sorry to hear that," he said with a laugh. "I should say that Mr. +Hare has already had quite enough troubles for one night." + +"Oh--then you have seen him this evening?" + +"I had the pleasure of meeting him on the square not half an hour ago." + +Each waited for the other to say more; and it was the lady who yielded. +She went on hesitatingly, yet somehow as if she were not unwilling to +justify herself to this stranger in the curious position in which she +found herself. + +"It--is very strange--and unlike him," she said doubtfully. "He was to +call for me--at quarter past seven--and take me home. I was at the +seamstress's, perhaps quarter of a mile up the road. I waited and +waited--and then--Oh--what was that, do you know?" + +"Only this old floor cracking. Don't flatter it by noticing. How odd to +find, meeting in this way, that we are both searching for the same man. +Isn't it?" + +"It--seems to me even odder to find that he is not searching for me." + +She was sitting, so he judged from the sound, about fifteen feet away. +There was coldness in her voice as she spoke of the candidate. Varney +felt sorry for that young man when he next held converse with her. From +her voice he had also gathered that the dark rather frightened her, and +that the presence of an unknown man had not allayed her uneasiness; +though something of her reserve had vanished, he thought, when she found +that the intruder knew Mr. Hare. + +"Oh, but he was--is!" he cried encouragingly. + +"I'm positive that he's searching for you at this minute. Why, of +course--certainly! That would explain the whole thing." + +Sitting damply on the dark stairway, he told of J. Pinkney Hare's +evidently impromptu experiences in the public square, which had +undoubtedly knocked from his mind all memory of his engagement at the +seamstress's; and of the sudden recollection of it, which, there could +be no question, was what had sent him and his new friend bursting out of +the house and tearing for dear life up the road. + +"I'll bet," said he, "that not a minute after you turned into shelter, +they raced by here after you. Now they're kicking their heels at the +sewing-lady's, probably soaked through, and wild to know if you got home +safely. Oh, he's being punished for his sins, never fear." + +"I--am sorry for your friend," her voice replied. "And I believe that I +forgive Mr. Hare--now that I know what detained him. I think I must have +heard them go by--just after I got in. Once I was sure I heard voices, +but, of course, I was expecting Mr. Hare to be alone." + +"Ha!" thought Varney. "A Hunston romance!" + +"You don't know Maginnis," he answered gloomily. "Nobody in the world +ever stays alone long when Maginnis can possibly get to him." + +He heard something that he thought might be a faint laugh. And +immediately ten years more came off the lady's age, and she stood at +twenty-two. The young man began to consider with less distaste his +obvious duty of escorting her home. + +In the momentary silence, wood somewhere near them once more creaked +loudly and scarily. + +"Oh!" came her voice out of the blackness. "Would you mind striking a +match and seeing if there isn't a lamp or something we could light?" + +"But I haven't a match--that's just it! If I _had_--! Why I assure you +I've been wishing for nothing so much as a light ever since you--ever +since I came in." + +"If I were a man--" she began, vexedly, but suddenly checked herself. +"Are you quite sure you haven't a single _one_?" + +"I'll gladly look again in all my twenty-seven pockets. I've been doing +it ever since I arrived, and I've gotten rather to like it. But I'm +awfully afraid it's a wild goose chase." + +Crack! Crack! went the mysteriously stirring woodwork, for all the world +like a living thing; and the lady again said "Oh!" And after that she +said: "You are not--in this room, are you?" + +"I'm sitting quietly on the steps digging around for matches," he said. +"Would you prefer to have me come in there?" + +"Would you mind--? Not that I'm in the least frightened, but--" + +"It will give me great pleasure to come--faithfully searching my pockets +as I grope forward. Thus," he said, laughing, "I must grope only with my +head and feet, which is a slightly dangerous thing to do. Ouch! Where +are you, please?" + +"Here." + +"'Here' is not very definite, you know. I have nothing to steer by but +my ear. Would you mind talking a good deal for a while?" + +"It is not often," she said, with further signs of a thawing in her +manner, "that a woman gets an invitation like that." + +"Opportunity knocks at your door, golden, novel, and unique." + +"The luck of it is that I can't think of anything to say. Would you care +to have me hum something?" + +Off came the lady's glasses, never to be donned again in fancy or in +life; and Varney was ready to admit that there might be ladies in +Hunston who were worse-looking than she by far. In the Stygian blackness +he collided with a chair and paused, leaning upon the back of it. + +"I'd like extremely to have you hum. From your voice, I--I'm sure that +you do it div--awfully well. But since you seem to leave it to me, I'd +honestly rather have you do something else." + +"Yes?" + +Larry laughed. "It's a game. A--an evening pastime--a sort of novel +guessing contest. Played by strangers in the dark. You see--I must tell +you that ever since you first spoke, my mind has been giving me little +thumbnail sketches--each one different from the last--of what you look +like." + +She said nothing to this; so he laughed again. + +"Oh, it's not mere curiosity, you know. It's purely a scientific matter +with me. The science of deduction. The voice, you know, tells little or +nothing. I may say that I have made something of a study of voices, and +have discovered that they always go by contraries. For this reason," he +laughed gayly, "when you first spoke, I--but perhaps I am simply tiring +you?" + +There was a small pause, and then the lady spoke, with apparent +reluctance: + +"I am not tired." + +Varney smiled into the great darkness. "Well, when I first heard your +voice--ha, ha!--I made up my mind that you could not possibly be less +than fifty-two." + +He was rewarded with a faint laugh: this time there could be no doubt of +it. + +"You remember that mythological tunnel where everybody went in old and +came out young. This conversation has been like that. Since we have +talked," said Varney, "I have knocked thirty years off your age. But +much remains to be told--and that is the game. Are you dark?" + +"Are you punning?" + +"This is no punning matter," he said; and began his third exploration of +himself for a match. And above them the water continued to thud upon the +roof like a torrent broken out of a dam. + +"This is _too_ bad!" breathed the lady impatiently, and plainly she was +not speaking to Varney. "I believe it's coming down harder and harder +every minute!" + +"Yes," he answered cheerfully, "the good old rain is at it in earnest. +We're probably fixed for hours and hours. I might argue, you know," he +added, "that I have a right to know these things. The box of matches I +just gave away like a madman would have told me, and no questions asked. +Matches and lamps you have none, but such as you have--" + +"Could you not talk of something else, please?" + +Varney laughed. "Certainly, if I must. Only I've been rather generous +about this, I think, showing you my hand and giving you the chance to +laugh at me. You see, for all I know you may be fifty-two, after all. Or +even sixty-two--Oh, glory! Hallelujah!" + +"What on earth is the matter?" + +"Oh, nothing! Nothing at all! Just I have found a match. That's all!" + +"A _match_! Splendid!" she cried, and her voice suddenly seemed to come +from a higher point in the darkness, as though she had risen. "Just one! +Oh, we--you must be extremely careful with it." + +"The trouble is," he said with exaggerated dejection, "it's pretty wet. +I don't know whether it will strike or not." + +"You must _make_ it strike. Oh, it will be--unpardonable--if you don't +make it strike!" + +"Then I'll throw my soul into the work. I'll concentrate my whole +will-power upon it. On the back of this chair here--shall I?" + +"All right. I'll concentrate too. Are--you ready?" + +"Ready it is," said Varney. + +Gently he drew the match across the rough wood of the chair-back, his +ear all eager expectancy--and nothing happened. Thrice he did this +fruitless thing, and something told him that a large section of the +sulphur had been rubbed away into eternity. + +"It's nip and tuck," he breathed, stifling an impulse to laugh. "Nip and +tuck!" + +Pressing the match's diminished head firmly against the wood, he drew it +downward vigorously and long. There was a faint crackle, a little +splutter, and--glory of glories!--a tiny flame faltered out into the +darkness. + +"Oh--_be careful_!" + +Varney cupped his hand about the little flare, and for a moment ceased +to breathe. Then it caught more fully, and it was evident to both that +the victory was won. + +He had meant to look instantly about for lamp or candle to light; but if +all his future happiness had hinged upon it, it seemed to him that he +could not have helped one glance at the lady who shared that shelter and +that match with him. + +She stood a few feet away, regarding him breathlessly, hatted, gloved, +all in white, one hand resting lightly on the center-table, one folded +about the crook of a dainty draggled parasol. The match threw a small +and ghostly light, but he saw her, and she wore no veil. + +"Why--why--I--" + +"Oh, quick! There's a lamp just behind you." + +He caught himself with a start. By incredible luck a lamp was at his +very elbow; as it was the match died on the wick. He put back the +chimney and shade, turned up the wick, and the room was bathed in golden +light. + +It was a good-sized room, evidently newly furnished and as neat as a +bandbox. The empty book-case on which the lamp rested was of handsome +quartered oak, which transiently struck him as curious. But in the next +instant he turned away and forgot all about it. + +The lady stood where she had risen and was regarding him without a word. +The lamplight fell full upon her. He came nearer, and his waning +assurance shook him like a pennant in the wind and was suddenly gone. +The sense of _camaraderie_ which the dark had given faded; his easy +friendliness left him; and he was an embarrassed young man face to face +with a girl whose sudden beauty seemed to overwhelm him with the +knowledge that he did not so much as know her name. + +"None of my thumbnail sketches," he faltered, "made you look like this." + +She had rested her wet parasol against the table, where a slow pool +gathered at the ferrule, and was pulling on more trimly her long white +gloves. Now she looked at him rather quizzically, though her young eyes +reflected something of his own unsteadying embarrassment. + +"No," she said, "I shall not be sixty-two for--for some time yet. But of +course it was a game--a pastime--where I had a--little the advantage. Do +you know, I--I am not entirely surprised, after all." + +"Oh, aren't you?" he said, completely mystified, but as charmed by her +smile as he was by the subtle change in her manner which had come with +the lighting of that match. + +"And it _was_ nice of you to tell me that polite story at the +beginning," she said. "And quick--and clever. When I heard the front +door burst open, the first thing I thought of, really, was that it must +be you." + +"I can't think," he said, unable to take his eyes off her, "what in the +world you are talking about." + +She laughed with something of an effort, and sat down exquisitely in a +cruel cane chair. "Well, then--_do_ you forgive me for taking possession +of your house like this? You will, won't you? I can't be silly, now, and +pretend not to know you. But really I never dreamed that you--" + +"Is it possible," he broke in stormily, "that you are mistaking me for +that insufferable Stanhope?" + +She looked at him startled, dumfounded; in her eyes amazement mingled +with embarrassment; then her brow wrinkled into a slow, doubtful smile. + +"Oh-h--I beg your pardon! I--did n't understand. But is it my fault that +I've seen your picture a hundred times? Yes, I suppose it is; for, at +the risk of making you crosser still, I'll confess that I--I cut it out +and framed it." + +Varney leaned his elbow on the mantel and faced her. + +"You have made a mistake," he said. "I am not Mr. Stanhope." + +"You mean," she laughed, very pretty and pink, "that it is no affair of +mine that you are." + +A kind of desperation seized him. It was evident that she did not +believe him, just as Coligny Smith had not believed him, and the plump +young woman of the grocery who had used his Christian name. He was +almost ready not to believe himself. However, there were cards in his +pocket; he got one of them out, and coming nearer, handed it to her. + +"My name is Laurence Varney," he said mechanically, for that slogan +seemed fated to meet skeptics everywhere. "I am from New York and have +happened to come up here on a friend's yacht to--to spend a few days. +You have made a mistake." + +She took the card, held it lightly in her gloved hand, bowed to him with +mocking courtesy. + +"I am very glad to meet you--Mr. Laurence Varney! I--I am from New York, +too, and have happened to come up here on the New York Central with my +mother to spend a few years. And I live in a white house half a mile +down the road, where I ought to have been an hour ago. And I am Mary +Carstairs, who has read all your books and thinks that they--Oh"--she +broke off all at once: for there was no missing the look in his +astounded face. "What in the world have I said now?" + +"You--can't be--_Mary Carstairs_!" he cried. + +"Is--that so terrible?" she laughed, a little uncertainly. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +IN WHICH MARY CARSTAIRS IS INVITED TO THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +But he recovered in a flash, aware of the criticalness of that moment, +and met her bewildered gaze steadily. + +"Terrible? Certainly not. Your name surprised me a little. That was all. +I thought, you see, that you were somebody else." + +"Yes? Who?" + +"I really--do not know exactly. Do forgive my stupidity, won't you? As I +say, I was just a little surprised." + +"You would explain to a man," she said, "and don't you think you ought +to to me? If you did not know exactly who you thought I was, why should +my name surprise you so?" + +He picked up a hideous china swan from a smart little oak stand and +examined it with excessive interest. + +"It was merely that I happen to know some one in New York who had +mentioned you--and done it in a way to make me think you were not--very +old. In fact, I had supposed that Miss Mary Carstairs wore short dresses +and a plait down her back. You see," he said, with a well-planned smile, +"how absurdly wrong I was. And then, just now, somebody pointed out your +house to me. There was a girl standing in the doorway--a small, dark +girl, with--" + +A peal like chimes cut him short. "Dear Jenny Thurston! Our +seamstress's little girl. She is spending the day with my mother, while +I've been spending most of the day with _her_ mother! Turn about! But I +wish you'd tell me," she said, "who it is that could have spoken of +me--to you. How interesting that we have a friend in common!" + +"Not a friend," he said grimly, at the window. "Only a former-- +acquaintance of yours--somebody that I imagine you have pretty well +forgotten. I'll tell you--another time. But I see it has stopped raining, +Miss--Miss--Miss Carstairs. Perhaps we had better take advantage of the +lull to start?--for I hope you are going to let me act for Mr. Hare, and +walk home wih you." + +"Oh--would you! Then indeed we had!" she said rising at once. "I am +horribly late now: I know my mother is frantic. I don't mind your not +telling me that, really! But--it is odd that you should have spoken of +my age twice to-night. Shall I tell you something, Mr. Stanhope--to show +you why I have had to give up pigtails? This is my birthday: I am +nineteen to-day!" + +She raised her eyes, shining, heavy-fringed, deep as the sea and bluer, +and looked at him. His own fell instantly. A shade of annoyance flitted +across his still face. + +"It is a delightful surprise," he said, mechanically. "But you must not +call me Mr. Stanhope, please, Miss Carstairs." + +"Why--mayn't I call you by your name?" + +"My name," said Varney, "in fairly legible print, is on the card which +you hold in your hand." + +She raised her eyes and looked at him, perplexed, hesitating, a little +mortified, like one who has encountered an unlooked-for rebuff. "Forgive +me," she ventured rather shyly, "but do you think it would be possible +for you to--to keep an incog here--where you must have so many friends? +If you want to do that--to try it--of course I'll not tell a soul. But +I'd like it very much if you could trust--_me_, who have known you +through your books for so long." + +"I should be quite willing to trust you, Miss Carstairs, but there is +nothing to trust you about. I am not incog. I am not the author. I have +written no books whatever--" + +"Ah! Then good-bye," she said with a swift change of manner, starting at +once for the door. "I shall not trouble you to walk home with me. Thank +you again for giving me shelter and light during the storm." + +"Will you be good enough to wait one minute?" + +She paused with one gloved hand on the knob, cool, resolute, a little +angry, the blue battery of her eyes fixing him across her white +embroidered shoulder. But he had turned away, hands thrust deep into the +pockets of his coat, brow rumpled into a frown, jaw set to anathema of +the plight in which a needless fortune had plunged him. + +If he let Uncle Elbert's daughter go like this, he might as well put the +_Cypriani_ about at once for New York, for he knew that he would never +have the chance to talk with her again. With engaging young +friendliness which overrode reserve, she had been moved to ask his +confidence, and he had angered her, even hurt her feelings, it seemed, +by appearing to withhold it. In return she had thrown down the issue +before him, immediate and final. Abstract questions of morals, and there +were new ones of great seriousness now, would have to wait. Should he +allow her to think that he was another man, or should he bid her +good-bye and abandon his errand? + +There was no alternative: she had made that unmistakable. His oath to +her father came suddenly into his mind. After all, was it not a little +absurd to boggle over one small deception when the whole enterprise, as +now suddenly revealed, was to be nothing but one continuous and colossal +one? + +"Miss--Miss Carstairs," said Varney, "with _you_ I shall not argue this. +I am going to let you think I am whoever you want. We needn't say +anything more about it, need we? Only--I'll ask you to call me by the +name I gave you, please, and, so far as you can, to regard me that way. +Is that--a bargain?" + +Mary Carstairs stood at the threshold of the lighted room, looking at +him from under her wide white hat, eyes shining, lips smiling, cheeks +faintly flushed with a sense of the triumph she had won. + +"Of course," she said. "And I don't think you'll need ever be sorry for +having trusted me--_Mr. Varney!"_ + +He bowed stiffly. "If you will kindly open the door, I will blow out the +lamp and give myself the pleasure of taking you home." + +They left the hospitable cottage of Ferris Stanhope, and went out into +the night, side by side, Varney and Mary Carstairs. The young man's +manner was deceptively calm, but his head was in a whirl. However, the +one vital fact about the situation stood out in his mind like a tower +set on a hill. This was that Uncle Elbert's daughter was walking at his +elbow, on terms of acquaintanceship and understanding. The thing had +happened with stunning unexpectedness, but it had happened, and the game +was on. The next move was his own, and what better moment for making it +would he ever have? + +The road was dark and wet. Rain-drops from the trees fell upon them as +they walked, gathered pools splashed shallowly under their feet. +Suddenly Varney said: + +"Do you happen to be interested in yachts, Miss Carstairs? Mine is +anchored just opposite your house, I believe, and it would be a pleasure +to show her to you sometime." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +CONCERNING MR. FERRIS STANHOPE, THE POPULAR NOVELIST; ALSO PETER, THE +QUIET ONLOOKER + +Peter had not yet returned to the yacht when Varney went to bed that +night. Like the Finnegan of song, he was gone again when Varney rose +next morning. Indeed, it was only too clear that his Celtic interests +had been suddenly engrossed by matters much nearer his heart than the +prospect, as he saw the thing, of spanking a naughty child. + +"He was off by half-past eight, sir," the steward, McTosh, told Varney +at breakfast. "He said to tell you to give yourself no uneasiness, sir; +that he was only going to Mr. Hare's--I think was the name--for a short +call, and would return by ten o'clock." + +"What else did he say?" + +"Well, sir, he was saying how the poltix of the village is not all they +might be, but he seemed very cheerful, sir, and took three times to the +chops." + +At dinner-time last night such extraordinary behavior from his +fellow-conspirator would have both disturbed and angered Varney. At +breakfast-time this morning it hardly interested him. He had employed +his walk from the cottage of refuge to the Carstairs front gate to +unbelievable advantage. In fact, his mission in Hunston seemed to be all +over but the shouting, and until the moment of final action arrived, +there appeared no reason why Peter should not employ his time in any way +he saw fit. + +The heavy storm had scoured the air, and the world was bright as a new +pin. In the shaded solitude of the after-deck, Mr. Carstairs's agent sat +in an easy-chair with a cigarette, and thought over the remarkable +happenings of his first night in Hunston. In retrospect young Editor +Smith seemed to be but the ordered instrument of fate, dispatched in a +rowboat to draw him against his will from the yacht to the town, where +all his business was neatly arranged for his doing. Certainly it +appeared as if the hand of intelligent destiny must have been in it +somewhere. No mere blind luck could have driven him half a mile into the +country to the one spot in all Hunston--impossibly unlikely as it +was--where he could become acquainted with Uncle Elbert's daughter +without the formality of an introduction. + +Uncle Elbert! How desperately the old man must desire his daughter to +have planned a mad scheme like this with a subterfuge at the expense of +his best friend cunningly hidden away in the heart of it. Yet, after the +first staggering flash, Varney had found it impossible to be angry with +Mr. Carstairs. He only felt sorry for him, sorrier than he had ever felt +for anybody in his life. The old man's madness and his deceit were but +the measure of his desire for his daughter. And the more he desired her, +so it seemed to Varney, the more he was entitled to have her. + +Interrupting his meditations, the steward approached on silent feet, +bearing a flat brown-paper package in his hand. It appeared that the +under-steward had just returned from a marketing tour in Hunston, had +met Mr. Maginnis on the street, and been ordered to take back the parcel +to Mr. Varney. + +"All right, McTosh," said Varney. + +He broke the string with some curiosity and pulled off the wrappers. +Within was nothing but a copy of a current literary monthly. + +A present of a magazine from Peter! This was a delicate apology for his +remissness, indeed. "He will be sending me chocolates next," thought +Varney, not a little puzzled. + +He turned the pages curiously. Soon, observing a bit of brown +wrapping-paper sticking out between the leaves, he opened the magazine +at that point and found himself looking at a picture; and he sat still +and stared at it for a long time. + +It was the full-page portrait of a young man of some thirty years: a +rather thin young man with a high forehead, a straight nose, and a +smallish chin. The face was good-looking, but somehow not quite +attractive. About the eyes was an expression faintly unpleasant, which +the neat glasses did not hide. On the somewhat slack lip was a slight +twist, not agreeable, which the well-kept mustache could not conceal. +Still it was an interesting face, clever, assured, half-insolent. To +Varney, it was exceptionally interesting; for removing the mustache and +eye-glasses, it might have passed anywhere for his own. + +Below the portrait was printed this legend: + +_FERRIS STANHOPE_. + +The popular author of "Rosamund," etc., who will reopen the old Stanhope +cottage near Hunston, New York, and spend the autumn there upon a new +novel. + +Mr. Stanhope's health has not been good of late, and his physicians have +recommended an extended stay in this quiet Hudson River country. + + * * * * * + +Here was that "Mr. Ferris," whom the young lady of the grocery had coyly +saluted; the "Beany," whom the pale young editor had bluntly bidden to +leave town; and the literary celebrity whom Miss Mary Carstairs so +evidently and so warmly admired. Varney stared at the portrait with a +kind of fascination. Now he saw many points of difference between the +face of "the popular author" and his own. The resemblance was only +general, after all. Still it was undoubtedly strong enough to warrant +all kinds of mistakes. + +What a very extraordinary sort of thing to have happen! + +Suddenly his eye fell upon a penciled line in the white margin above the +picture which had at first escaped him: + +"On no account leave the yacht till I come back. Vitally important." + +Varney pitched the magazine across the deck with an irritated laugh. +Peter--utterly ignorant of how matters stood--attempting to fire off +long-distance orders and direct his movements. The splendid gall! + +As it chanced, he had no occasion to leave the yacht, either before or +after Peter got back. His work was done. He made himself comfortable +with morning papers and a novel--not one of Mr. Stanhope's--and began to +seek beguilement. + +But his reading went forward rather fitfully. There were long intervals +when his book, "eleventh printing" though it was, slipped forgotten to +his knees, and he sat staring thoughtfully over the sunny water.... + +Peter failed to keep his promise about returning to the yacht at ten +o'clock. In fact, it was four o'clock that afternoon when he arrived, +and at that, the manner in which he sprang up the stair indicated him as +a man who had but few moments to spare to yachts and that sort of thing. + +Varney, at his ease upon the transom, watched his friend's approach with +a quizzical eye. + +"Greetings, old comrade! How did you leave them all in Hunston?" + +Peter, who, truth to tell, had been looking forward to bitter personal +denunciation, looked somewhat relieved, and laughed. However, his manner +suggested little of hang-dog consciousness of guilt; it was far too +absorbed and business-like for that. He dropped down into a chair by +Varney and swabbed the back of his neck with a damp-looking +handkerchief. + +"Larry, who'd have dreamed last night that we were parting for all this +time?" + +"Well, not I for one." + +"Awfully sorry about it all, and I know you'll think I'm acting like a +funny kind of helper. I hadn't the faintest idea of bottling you up on +the yacht all day like this, but--well, you might say, Larry, that a man +couldn't help it to save his life. I certainly meant to be back by the +time you had finished breakfast and explain the whole situation to +you--there are a deuced lot of complications, you know--but one thing +led right on to another and--good Lord! I couldn't find a minute with a +fine-tooth comb." + +"It's all right, statesman. You don't hear me making any complaints. All +I ask is a little _résumé_ of what you've been doing since you so +cleverly lost me. In Reform to the ears, I suppose?" + +Peter again looked rather surprised at his chief's easy indifference. + +"You want that part of it first? Well," he said rapidly, "I've been +trying to do four days' work for Reform in one, and a pinch it's been to +make both ends meet, I can tell you. At it practically without a break +since I left you last night. J. Pinkney took me right in and bared his +soul. Said he was down and out and beaten to a fluid. A clever little +devil fast enough, but no more idea of how to play the game than a baby +baboon. When he caught on to what I wanted to do for him, he would have +fallen on my neck except that he isn't that kind. That was this morning. +I worked out my idea in the still watches: couldn't sleep for thinking +of it. It just means this: if my plans carry through Hare gets the +biggest hearing to-night that this old town can give. And I think +they'll carry all right. You wouldn't be interested in the details. Now +this other thing--" + +"Oh, but I would, though! Give me at least a peep behind the scenes +before you dash on. What about these plans of yours?" + +Peter laid down the newspaper with which he had been busily fanning +himself. A sudden light came into his eyes. + +"I'll tell you just how it all happened," he said in an eager voice. +"Only I'll have to hurry, as I'm due back in town right away--that is, +of course, unless you should need me for anything. Well, I left Hare +last night after only a couple of hours' talk, listening to the same old +story of boss-rule, and giving him, if I do say it, some cracking good +practical pointers. By the way, we were interrupted at that. Hadn't got +started before Hare remembered that he'd promised to bring some girl +home from somewhere, and dragged me off a mile down the road, only to +find out afterwards that she'd gone home with somebody else. Made me +tired. I left him about ten o'clock and started down Main Street for the +river, meaning to come straight back here. But as I was footing it +along, thinking over my talk with Hare and attending to my own business, +who should brace me but that pale-faced rascal we saw playing dead in +the rowboat. This time the _poseur_ was lying flat on some packing-cases +in front of a store, and who do you suppose he turned out to be?" + +"The brains of the machine," said Varney. + +He told briefly of his own meeting with Coligny Smith at the same spot +two hours earlier, and of the editor's stagey warnings. + +"Exactly the way he did me!" cried Peter. "Saved the announcement of +who he was for the grand _finale_ in Act V. I got mad as a wet hen, told +him what I thought of him in simple language, and then when the grafter +twitted me to go and do something about it, I broke loose and swore that +I'd make Hare Mayor of Hunston if I had to buy the little two-by-twice +town to do it. Told him to pack his trunk, for all the crooks would soon +be traveling toward the timber. So then I turned right around, hiked +back to Hare's, told him what I'd done, gave him my hand on it, and +pulled out the old family check-book. This morning I went to him and +laid before him the greatest scheme that ever was. You know Hare can't +get a hall to speak in for love or money--nobody dares rent him one; he +can't buy an inch of space in the _Gazette_; he can't put spreads on the +billboards without having 'em pasted out in the night. To-night the +whole thing's been done for him--Ryan's big town-meeting. Well, we're +going to try to _swipe that meeting_--do you see? I'm getting in some +husky fellows from New York to see fair play, and so on. Oh, it's a +bully chance--you can see! I've spent a nice bunch of father's money +working the scheme up, and, by George! I believe we are going to get by +with it. If we do--well, we give this town the biggest shock it's had in +years, and that's the way reform begins, Larry. _Shock_!" + +Something of his contagious enthusiasm spread to and fired Varney. Fate +had thrown in their way a plucky and honest man engaged in an apparently +hopeless fight against overwhelming powers of darkness. He deserved +help. And what possible risk was there now when the _Cypriani's_ work +was practically done? + +"I can't say," continued Peter dutifully, "that this is exactly playing +the quiet onlooker, as my orders read. As I said last night, I consider +that this excursion into politics will help our little business, not +interfere with it. It will divert attention. It will seem to explain why +we are here. But if you don't agree with me, if you want me to drop +it--" + +"No," said Varney, slowly. "I don't." + +"Good for you, old sport!" cried Peter, evidently relieved. "Needless to +say, I'm right on the job whenever you need me. And nothing's going to +happen. Trust me. Now as to this other matter. You got that magazine I +sent this morning?" + +"Yes. Thanks for the picture of my twin brother. But why couldn't I +leave the yacht till you got back?" + +Peter stared. "Why, just that, of course. Deuced unfortunate +coincidence, isn't it? Everybody in town is going to think that you are +this fellow Stanhope." + +"Well?" + +"_Well_? Oh, I forgot--you haven't heard. Well, from the stories that +are floating round town to-day, Stanhope is a cad of the original brand. +He was born here--lived here until he was twenty-one or two. Women were +his trouble. The climax came about twelve years ago. The girl was named +Orrick--Mamie Orrick, I believe. Nobody knows exactly what became of +her, but they practically ran Stanhope out of the town then. Well--there +it is." + +He paused long enough to light one of his Herculean cigars, employing +his hat as a wind-shield, and rapidly continued: "It's very curious and +strange, and all that, but there it is. A month or so ago the _Gazette_ +announced that Stanhope was coming back to Hunston. Last night you were +seen on the square, and now the news has spread like wildfire that the +author has arrived. Hare heard a lot of gossip on the street to-day. +He's lived here only a few years and doesn't know anything personally; +but he says the old feeling against Stanhope seems to have revived as +though it had all happened yesterday. Orrick, the girl's father, a +half-witted old dotard, was heard to say that he would shoot on sight. +There are three or four others besides Orrick who've got personal +grudges too. If any of these meet you, there is almost sure to be +trouble. How is that for a little complication?" + +"And this was the reason you sent me word to lock myself up on the +_Cypriani_? You're a bird, Peter. Not that it made any difference, but I +ventured to suppose that my leaving before you got back would interfere +with some plans you had been making for me, and--" + +"It would interfere with some plans I have been making for you, in a +general way, to have you assassinated." + +"Stuff. Ten to one all these stories that somebody has been so careful +to have get back to you are right out of the whole cloth--" + +"What's the use of setting up your cranky opinions against the hard +facts? The plain truth is that everybody who ever heard of Stanhope is +going to give you the cold shoulder for a dog; we can depend absolutely +on that." + +But Varney had his own reasons for depending on nothing of the sort. + +"You've been imposed upon, Peter. In fact, one of the population mistook +me for the author last night, and instead of giving me the cold +shoulder, as you say, she seemed to think that being Stanhope was the +best credentials that a man could have." + +"She? Who're you talking about?" + +"I'm talking about Uncle Elbert's daughter, Miss Mary Carstairs. I had +the pleasure of meeting her last night." + +"The devil you did!" cried Peter, laughing with astonishment. "You +certainly walk off with the prize for prompt results. How in the world +did you manage it?" + +Varney told him succinctly how he had managed it. + +"Fine! Fine! Honestly, I was getting afraid that you never could do it +at all, with the rotten reputation they've pinned on you here. Good +enough! Still it's absurd to cite the opinion of a little child in a +matter like this." + +"It depends upon what you call a little child, doesn't it? Miss +Carstairs is nineteen years old." + +Peter straightened in his chair with a jerk, and stared at him as though +one or the other had suddenly gone mad. + +"_Nineteen_! Why, I thought she was twelve." + +"So did I." + +"Why, how in Sam Hill did you ever make such an asinine mistake?" + +Varney gave an impatient laugh. + +"What difference does that make now? My impression was that the +separation took place about eight years ago. It may have been twelve. My +other impression was that the girl was about four at the time. She may +have been eight instead. If it's of any interest to you, I should say +that the mistake was natural enough. Besides, Uncle Elbert rather helped +it along." + +"Uncle Elbert rather lied to you--that's what he did," said Peter with +the utmost quietness. + +There was a considerable silence. Peter pulled frowningly at his cigar; +it had gone out but he was too absorbed to notice it, and mechanically +pulled on. Presently he raised his head and looked at Varney. + +"Well? This ends it, I suppose? You'll go back to New York this +afternoon?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to stay and carry it through just as I +expected." + +Peter tapped the chair-arm with his heavy fingers. "Why?" + +"Because--well, I promised to, and on the strength of my promise, Uncle +Elbert has gone to trouble and expense for one thing, and has pinned +high hopes on me, for another. I had my chance to ask questions and make +terms and stipulations--and I didn't do it. That was my fault. I am not +even sure that he meant to deceive me. I have no right to break a +contract because I find that my part in it is going to be harder than I +thought." + +"This business about her age changes everything. Carstairs has no legal +rights over a nineteen-year-old daughter." + +"Legal rights! My dear Peter, you never supposed I thought I was doing +anything legal, did you? No, no; the moral part of it has been my prop +and stay all along, and that still holds. I promised without conditions, +and I'll go ahead on the same terms." + +"Give me a match," said Peter thoughtfully. "Maybe you are right, +Larry," he added presently. "I only wanted to point out another way of +looking at it. I stand absolutely by your decision. You think that this +girl is wrong-headed and obstinate, and that her father has a moral +right to have her, over age or not. This--discovery makes it a pretty +serious business, but of course you've thought of all that. But--will it +be possible now?" + +"I have invited her," said Varney, with a light laugh, "to lunch on the +_Cypriani_ on Thursday with two or three other Hunston friends." + +"Well?" + +"She accepted with every mark of pleasure. Great men like Stanhope, it +seems, require no introduction: it beats me. The point now is to find +the other Hunston friends." + +"Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne--the very thing!--chaperon and all! +I'll invite them to-night. Then the whole thing's done!" Peter sat +silent a moment, looking at Varney. "I've been awfully rushed to-day," +he resumed, "because if I was going to help Hare at all, I didn't dare +lose this one big opportunity. But remember, anything that has to be +done from now on--I'm your man." + +"There'll be nothing more now until Thursday. The thing's practically +done." + +Peter was still looking at him steadily. "It's going to be dirt easy, +provided we don't weaken. You can't do things to your friends, but you +can emphatically do them to your enemies. We have got to remember always +that this girl, who has been so heartless to her old fool of a father, +is our enemy." + +"Yes, that is what we have got to remember." + +"Good Lord!" cried Peter, looking at his watch. "Twenty minutes past +four, and I must be at the hall at four-thirty sharp. I'll have to sneak +right away. You're going to sit tight on the yacht, of course?" + +"Never! I like to have a little of the fun myself. I must certainly take +in this meeting to-night, and watch you put your heel on their necks and +all that." + +"Don't! With what you've got to do, you can't afford to expose yourself. +What's the use of running risks, even little ones, when there is nothing +to gain?" + +"Satan reproving sin! Fudge! Free yourself once for all, my dear sir, +that I'm starring in The Prisoner on the Yacht for the next three days, +or anything of that sort." + +"Well, if you will go," said Peter, reluctantly, "here's a reserved seat +ticket--a peacherine, right up at the front." + +"Great! Count on me to lead the applause." + +Peter rose. His engrossed brow advertised the fact that his thought had +already flown back to his own private maelstrom of new concerns. + +"If Hare gets his chance to-night," he meditated out loud, "you can rely +on him to make the most of it. He'll make good; he's a man, sound in +wind and limb, head and heart. I do wish, though, he wasn't so--somehow +innocent--so easy--so confoundedly affable and handshaking with +everybody that comes along. There's a sneaky-looking stranger at the +hotel--rubber-heeled fellow named Higginson, with one of these black +felt hats pulled down over his eyes like a stage villain--that Hare +never laid eyes on till to-day. For all he knows the man may be an agent +of Ryan's, a hired spy imported to--By Jove! That's just what he is, +I'll bet!" he cried suddenly; and after a frowning pause, hurried warmly +on: "Don't you remember last night, just after we hit the town, I said +there was a man following us--sneaked up the alley when he saw me +looking at him?" + +"I believe I do, Peter. But the fact is that I met so many exciting +people last night--" + +"It's the same man--it was Higginson!" said Peter positively. "I'm sure +of it! I didn't get a look at his face last night, but it's the same +hat, same figure--everything. I'll bet anything he's on Ryan's payroll; +and there's little Hare hobnobbing with him as friendly as though they'd +been classmates at college! That kind of free-for-all geniality doesn't +go, you know! A reformer in a rotten town like this," said Peter +vehemently "would do well to cultivate a profound distrust of +strangers." + +Varney burst out laughing. + +"You yourself have known Hare from the cradle, I believe?" + +"I'm different," said Peter without a smile. "Well! I must move. Now +let's see--that lunch. What time shall I ask Hare and Mrs. Marne for?" + +"Two o'clock, Thursday. I didn't have the nerve," Varney explained, "to +ask Miss Carstairs for to-day--rather lucky I didn't--and she was +engaged for Thursday." + +"Right. I'll arrange it all. Well, for the Lord's sake take care of +yourself to-night, Larry, and trust me to keep out of trouble. So long." + +Varney looked after Peter's disappearing back, and envied him all the +fun he was having. His own lot was certainly far less entertaining. +However, it was his own; and here he resembled his friend in one respect +at least. His thoughts, like Peter's, had a way just now of reverting at +short notice to the matters in which he himself was most closely +concerned. + +He lay back idly among the cushions, and let his mind once more run over +the unexpected problems of his situation. + +The new graveness of what he was pledged to do had, of course, been +strongly present in his mind from the first moment of revelation. +Kidnapping a nineteen-year-old girl was certainly, as Peter had pointed +out, a pretty serious business. He perceived that it would not look well +in the papers in the least. Also if she cared to raise a row +afterwards, there might be an aftermath which would not be wholly a +laughing matter. + +Nevertheless, this side of the question seemed remote and of minor +interest to him just now. The problem appeared to be a personal one, not +a question of statutes and judges. In his talk with Miss Carstairs +before he knew her by name, he had failed to notice anything that +suggested the spoiled and wilful child he had come to find. He could +remember nothing she had said or done that helped him at all to think of +her as his enemy. The fact was that it was all quite the other way. And +this helped him to understand now, as he had not understood before, why +Uncle Elbert had begged a solemn oath from him with such a piteous look +on his handsome, haggard old face. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +VARNEY MEETS WITH A GALLING REBUFF, WHILE PETER GOES MARCHING ON + +Peter's pronounced views as to Mr. Stanhope were not, it appeared, +purely of the stuff that dreams are made of. Testimony to the author's +lack of popularity in his native town came to Varney with unexpected +promptness. + +In the corner of the square, as he swung along toward the Academy +Theatre that evening, he found himself suddenly confronted by a man who, +lounging against the fence of a shabby dwelling, straightened +dramatically at his approach and bent a sharp gaze upon him. He was a +tall, shambling fellow with a white cloth swathed about the top of his +head; and Varney, in the act of passing, suddenly recognized him as the +dog man, whom Peter had knocked out the night before. His gaze was a +wanton challenge for the young man to stop, and Varney cheerfully +accepted it. + +"Why, it's--Mr.--er--Hackley, isn't it?" + +The man's bandage left only one eye free to operate, and he kept this +upon Varney with a curious unwinking stare. + +"Yes," said he slowly, "I'm Hackley." + +"How'd the dog come out?" asked Varney. + +"Dead," said Hackley, as quiet in mien as the Hackley of last night was +bellicose. "Dead _an'_ buried." + +"I'm sorry," said Varney, his glance on the head-cloth. "The man who did +the kicking was a friend of mine, and he wouldn't want you to lose your +dog without some compensation. Er--please accept this with his +compliments and regrets." + +Hackley, his single washed-out eye starting with pleasure, accepted the +proffered note with a gesture resembling a clutch, investigated its size +in the dim light with hardly concealed delight, and pinned it into his +waistcoat pocket with a large brass safety-pin. Then he raised his head +slowly and looked at Varney. + +"Why n't you leave town to-night, Stanhope?" he inquired casually. + +Varney started. Almost to the very language this was exactly what Editor +Smith had suggested to him the night before. + +"Why do you call me Stanhope, Hackley? My name happens to be Laurence +Varney." + +Mr. Hackley's gaze never relaxed. "Chuck it," he said without emotion. +"A sensible and eddicated man," he added impersonally, "never lies when +a lie couldn't do him no good. If I was you, Stanhope, I wouldn't lose a +minute in cuttin' loose from this town." + +"If I were Stanhope, I daresay I wouldn't either. But suppose I were," +he added, "why shouldn't I stay here if I wanted to?" + +"For one reason," said Mr. Hackley deliberately, "there's me. When I'm +a-feelin' myself, there ain't a cammer, a more genteel nor lor-abidin' +citizen in Hunston. As for fussin' and fightin', I'd no more think of it +than a dyin' inverlid in the orspitle. But only throw a few drinks under +my belt like last night, and I'm a altogether different creetur. And I'm +mighty afraid that the next time I over-drink myself and don't rightly +know what I'm doin', I'll go out after you with a club. And then +there'll be trouble." + +"But why should you want to go after Stanhope with a club? What did he +ever do to you?" + +"Don't you know? I married Mamie Orrick's little sister!" + +"Most interesting," said Varney, "as a bit of genealogy, but what's it +got to do with Stanhope and the club?" + +But Mr. Hackley said again, cryptically: "Chuck it." Then, softened by +the young man's pleasant ways, and by the windfall of a fortune pinned +into his vest: "Be sensible, Stanhope," he added amiably. "I ain't the +only one. Old Orrick's heard that you've hit the town and is totin' a +gun and talk-in' wild. And, of course, there's others. Don't jump off no +tall buildin's, I say, expectin' Providence to land you soft. There's a +train to Noo York at eight-ten. Cut while you can!" + +"Why, thanks," said Varney, laughing and starting on. "If I should see +Mr. Stanhope at any time, I won't fail to pass him the friendly tip." + +"And if you should see that friend o' yourn," called Hackley after him, +"him that gimme the paste in the jor--you c'n just tell him that Jim +Hackley is goin' to fix you both, _good!_" + +"At your convenience, Hackley." + +The young man passed on, undisturbed by the dog man's quaint menaces. He +did not exactly see himself and Peter getting into trouble at the hands +of a crack-brained village humorist. + +Streams of people, converging from all directions, guided him easily to +the theatre. Pushing his way in, he found the stage empty and the +proceedings not yet begun; and he stood for a minute at the inner door, +glancing over the house. It was crowded. Oratory is a real inducement in +societies seldom blessed with that attraction. Even lemonade is a magnet +if you get it seldom and never to surfeit. Already men were sitting in +the long low windows which ran down either side of the building; and a +score of ushers, singularly alert-looking men, were hurriedly +distributing camp-chairs to accommodate the overflow. Certainly, Peter +could have desired no better setting for his daring adventure for +reform. + +Thanks to the reserved seat which his friend's reluctant liberality had +furnished him, Varney was in no hurry to join the throng inside. +Presently, to get clear of the rush at the doors, he strolled into the +lobby and idly stood at one side, watching the people streaming by. + +Thus, by sheer luck, he became witness to the crucial episode of the +evening. An oily Teutonic voice spoke just at his elbow: + +"Id's eight o'clock, I zee. We'd better go back und gif Taylor his +speech, I guess." + +The young man turned. He happened to be standing just in front of the +little cubby of a box-office. In it stood two men, one large and fat and +blonde, the other short and stocky and dark. This latter, looking up +from a typewritten manuscript, spoke briefly: + +"No hurry. Find Smith if you can and send him here." + +The fat oily person departed obediently. Immediately there stepped +through the door of the box-office a rough-looking man in a slouch hat, +with three days' stubble stippling a grimy chin. He shut the door +carefully and came near. Varney, from where he stood, could see and hear +everything. + +"Mr. Ryan?" + +The stocky, dark man nodded. _Aha!_ thought Varney. + +"Then step outside a minute, will yer? There's a genaman wants to speak +to you right away on a matter as concerns you close." + +Ryan coldly looked the man over: "Then tell him to come in here. No! I +ain't got no time to fool with him now. Tell him to go to the devil." + +The stranger never moved a muscle. "There's a reason w'y he can't come +in here--you'll see when you come outside, all right." Then bringing his +dark face sharply a foot nearer, he went on in a hasty undertone: "Hey, +you! Ever hear of a man named Maginnis?" + +Ryan had: Peter's fame had traveled far in Hunston that day. + +"Well, listen! There's a game on to bust this meetin' to-night and put +the hook into you good and hard. Maginnis has spent a thousand to do it. +D'yer savvy? Now will yer step lively?" + +The boss considered a moment and then stepped lively. Varney, falling in +behind, stepped lively too, his curiosity strongly stirred. But outside, +before the theatre, there was no sign of a gentleman awaiting an +audience: only the people pouring on into the Academy. + +"Around the corner," whispered the dark man hoarsely. "He dassen't wait +here. Quick!" + +Around the corner the pair hurried, Varney close in their wake. In the +silent alley, half-hidden in the shadows of the building, stood a large +carriage with a pair of strapping bays tugging at their traces. They +halted before it, and the stranger, who had considerately taken Ryan's +arm, flung open the door. + +"Here he is, Jim--Mr. Ryan. Now you c'n tell him--" + +The sentence died unended. At the same moment the sound of a violent +scuffle smote the nocturnal air. It appeared that Jim, presumably +laboring under an unfortunate misapprehension, had not received his +visitor with that refined hospitality due from one gentleman to another. +Even more inexplicable, it looked in the deceitful darkness, remarkably +as though the boss's guide, suddenly dropping that gentleman's arm, had +laid forcible hold upon his outraged and madly protesting legs. + +It was all over in a minute. There was a faint yell, quickly and +violently muffled. Then the carriage door banged, leaving nobody on the +sidewalk, and the horses, responding to an acutely painful lash from the +strong arm on the box, sprang forward at the gallop. + +Varney stood in the dark alley, looking after the vanishing carriage +with mingled admiration and amazement. Swift footsteps sounded near him; +and the next moment a strong hand seized him and pulled him back into +the shadow of the wall. + +"_Sh-h! It's me_! Anybody see it?" + +"_Hello!_ Not a soul but me." + +Peter leaned against the wall and drew a deep breath. + +"He can never prove it on me--not to save his soul!--_and I hold his +meeting in the hollow of my hand_. Do you see that lighted window at +the back there? That's my last bridge. Waiting in there are the chairman +of the meeting and the mayor, who's the orator of the evening. I'm going +in and make 'em take me on as one of the platform speakers. I'll pass +out a few remarks and call on Hare--" + +"But how will you make them--" + +"They daren't refuse me anything," said Peter swiftly, and tapped his +breast-pocket. "I've papers here that mean stripes for them both. Mind +your eye, Larry, and be good!" + +He disappeared through the little gate toward the dressing-room, where +the officials of the meeting waited vainly for last instructions from +their lord. Varney looked after him with a sigh. In Hunston only +twenty-four hours and already to be running the town! + +He emerged from the alley feeling rather gloomy, and halted on the +sidewalk in front of the theatre, idly watching the people as they +poured in. The spectacle of this steady stream made a fitting background +for his meditations; for he was thinking, absently, of the extreme +boldness of Peter's course. Certainly, there was little here to suggest +the quiet onlooker. But all at once something happened which checked the +current of his thought as effectually as a slap upon the cheek. + +In that shifting, waste of strange faces, his vagrant eye suddenly fell +upon a familiar one--two, three familiar ones--and his flagging interest +sprang to life. There approached, side by side, J. Pinkney Hare, who, +though few knew it, might prove the brilliant hero of the night's +proceedings; the child, little Jenny Something, who had spent yesterday +at the Carstairs house, leading strangers to think that she was somebody +else; and Miss Carstairs herself, a fair flower in that moving tangle of +weeds. + +Hare saw Varney and bowed in his stiff affected way. But Varney's eyes +had already gone on to Miss Carstairs, and he did not return that +greeting. Seeing the little candidate lift his hat, her look followed +his, and so her eye met Varney's. + +When this happened her expression did not change, except that, so he +thought, she faintly colored. Varney awaited her bow; he half bowed +himself: a stiff smile was ready on his lips. But he never gave it. Her +eyes rested full upon him for a second, with no sign of recognition, and +then moved away; and the next moment she swept past him into the +theatre. + +There was no shadow of doubt about it. She who only last night had +treated him with such marked kindness, had unmistakably cut him. It +hardly seemed possible. Why, they had parted like friends! + +But he understood instantly what had happened. To her, he was Ferris +Stanhope; he himself had given her the right to think that. Since they +had parted, some of that unpleasant gossip about Stanhope--of which she +had known nothing last night--had made its way to her; and she had +believed it as to him, Laurence Varney. Yes, she had believed it as to +him. Peter was right, after all. A self-respecting girl owed it to +herself, it seemed, not to recognize him. Curiously, so strong was his +sense of the personal meaning of the insult that its more practical +aspects for the moment altogether escaped him. + +But that was only for the moment. In the next breath, it rushed over him +that with that cool glance the luncheon engagement upon which his whole +mission depended stood canceled; and with that thought he felt his will +hardening into iron. What she thought of him, personally, was of course +nothing; but no power should keep him from carrying through his plans +precisely as he had arranged them. He elbowed his way into the lobby to +find Uncle Elbert's daughter and make her retract that look. + +But it gradually became evident that Uncle Elbert's daughter was not in +the lobby: the most systematic exploration failed to reveal any trace of +her. In fact, it was certain that she had passed straight on to her seat +within the hall; whence a loud roar presently gave warning to stragglers +that the oratory had begun. + + * * * * * + +Two hours later Varney rose from his seat, at once marveling over the +splendor of Peter's _coup_ and bewildered by the blaze of publicity +which it had turned upon his comrade and co-schemer. The well-laid plans +had carried through to brilliant success, and Ryan's meeting had been +converted into a triumph for Ryan's deadly enemy, J. Pinkney Hare. + +The candidate had sat unobtrusively down in the audience with his friend +Miss Carstairs and the child Jenny,--spectators all: that was the way +they had arranged it. Peter, on the contrary, sat in the great white +light of a front seat on the stage, where he had masterfully intruded +himself in the galaxy of "other prominent citizens." And sure enough, +when the set speeches were over, it was the honorable chairman who +presented "a Mr. Maginnis of New York" to the meeting, doubtless having +been satisfactorily convinced beforehand that it was to his advantage to +do so. But, doubtless also convinced that there would be an accounting +to his master for this night's work, he rose to his duty only after Mr. +Maginnis had glared at him through a noticeable stage-wait, and then +made the introduction as prejudicial as he dared. + +Mr. Maginnis did not appear disconcerted in the least. He began +speaking with a pertinence and ease which rather surprised his friend +Varney down in the audience, and with words which instantly let the +dullest know that something unusual was taking place. However, he had +not proceeded far when, the house having become very still, he was +suddenly interrupted by a sharp hiss from the rear of the hall, and a +raucous voice which shouted: + +"Sit down, you! Nobody wants yer!" + +Laughter followed and various murmurs, some approving, a few protesting. +Ryan's good and faithful servants were evidently settling down to work. + +Peter's eye roved over the audience, seemed to catch something and lit +up with a faint signal. + +"The gentleman who made that remark," he said in tones of great +gentleness, "will kindly leave the hall at once." + +A ripple of merriment ran through the crowd, breaking in many places +into ostentatious guffaws. To those who knew the underside of those +meetings, the mild request appeared so ineffectual as to be merely +ridiculous. The honorable chairman, on the stage, hid a sinister smile +behind his hand. + +Then a strange thing happened. Four "ushers" moved silently down the +side-aisle, halted at the end of the sixth row from the rear, laid hands +upon an angry and wriggling little man who screamed to high heaven that +he hadn't done nothing, and dropped him out of the open window, which +was just five feet above the ground. + +It was rather a clean-cut piece of work, the moral effect of which was +in no wise weakened by the strong probability that they had ejected the +wrong man. It proved the turning-point in the evening's proceedings. +Ryanism seemed paralyzed by the mysterious absence of its chief, and a +few further essays by the faithful, more and more half-hearted in their +nature, made it plain that the control of that meeting had passed into +other hands. Peter, apologizing for the little interruption, told simply +but vividly how, coming to Hunston a stranger, he had instantly seen +that something was badly wrong with the town: how he had looked about at +the dirty streets, the dead business, the empty stores, the good men +idling, the good wives suffering for the money that streamed into the +big red saloon-- + +"That's right!" called a shrill, scared woman's voice. "That's right, +Mister!" + +"No!" Peter answered steadily. "It's the _wrongest_ thing that ever +was--God help you poor women!" + +Then a burst of hand-clapping, unforced by the faithful hirelings from +New York, ran unexpectedly through the house. + +Peter told how easy it had been to find out what was choking the life +out of Hunston. His open countenance, democratic manners, and pungent +speech produced a most favorable impression, and it was undeniable that, +for the moment at least, he had the house with him when he swung into +his peroration. + +"You know we are told," he said, "that it is the truth that makes us +free. Well, you are going to hear the truth to-night, at last. There is +a man listening to me at this moment who knows everything there is to be +known. Like me, he has no axe to grind, no special interest to promote, +no ambition but the manly wish to loose this town from the bonds with +which a dishonest boss has shackled it. He has sacrificed much to the +hope that he might help you, and for months he has been fighting against +big odds, just to get a chance to tell you the facts. To-night he has +got his chance, and you may be very sure that he will make the most of +it. + +"Relieving your honorable chairman of the trouble of rising for the +purpose, I take pleasure in introducing to you Mr. J. Pinkney Hare, who +is, with your consent, the next mayor of Hunston." + +Back in the center of the house, a foot scraped upon the floor, and +there was J. Pinkney Hare standing out in the aisle, his little black +bag stuffed with documents swinging in his hand. And then there arose, +to the surprise of everybody (barring those good fellows who had been +well paid for their work and were earnestly determined to earn it) a +deafening roar of applause, starting in the rear of the house, taken up +at certain definite points all through it, and gradually spreading +almost everywhere, many people joining in because they liked Peter +greatly and others without having any idea why. The roar subsided a +little as Hare drew near to the stage, mounted it, and deposited his +little bag upon the table. Then it broke again, more loudly, as he came +forward a step, looking out upon the crowded house--he who could not +hire a hall for himself--a little pale, a little awed by the bigness of +his chance, but with neither tremor nor uncertainty on his small, cool +face.... + +Hare spoke for an hour and a half, and not a soul left the hall. It was +impossible to call him off or cry him down: the plain sentiment of the +house was, "Give the little man his show." Afterwards, Chairman Bates +had made a desperate effort to overcome the damning effect of that +address, calling on various Ryanites of aggressive manners, and making a +second speech himself, but with little avail. Even the free fight which +broke out during the distribution of the ice-cream of the Neapolitans +(the announcement of which addition to the regular _menu_ evoked the +loudest spontaneous applause of the evening) resulted, until the police +checked it, decidedly in favor of the strangers from New York. + +This part of the evening's pleasures Varney did not see. He rose with +many others when the published tidings of refreshment gave notice that +the speechmaking was over, and turned his face toward the door against a +stream of ushers entering with alluring trays. Already all sense of the +daring brilliance of Peter's stroke had faded and dropped from his mind. +His own concerns crowded instantly upon his attention, and all his +thought was of finding Mary Carstairs immediately and compelling her to +recognize him for the man he was. + +She, too, had risen to leave the hall. While he listened to the fierce +philippic of J. Pinkney Hare, Varney's eye had carefully marked her +seat: it was empty now. Once, as he pushed his way slowly toward the +door, he caught a brief glimpse of her over in the other aisle, some +distance ahead of him; but he hardly saw her before she was lost to him +again, swallowed up in the jostling throng. The theatre was in an +uproar: all was noise and bustle and movement. And the wide lobby, when +at length he reached it, was no better; it looked scarcely more +promising to his quest than the traditional haystack to the searcher of +needles. + +Here were set the ice-cream freezers and the other paraphernalia of +delight, and about them was a struggling mob. Varney circled the throng +with a roving eye. Of the lady he saw no sign anywhere. But presently, +on the outer fringe of the cohorts which stormed the freezers, he came +upon the child Jenny, and knew that he had found a guide according to +his heart's desire. + +He touched her on the elbow. "Do you want to get some ice-cream?" + +She turned her homely little face up towards him, and said shyly: + +"Yes, sir. But they won't let me get near. And they say the chocolate is +going fast." + +"They'll let me get near," said Varney heartily. "Chocolate is it, then? +Lemonade, of course. And a thought of the cake with icing, shall we say? +Good! But you're not here alone, are you?" + +"No, sir. I'm here with Miss Mary--over there in that corner." + +"Well, you just run over there with her and wait. Trust everything here +to me." + +He emerged from the ruck a few moments later, disheveled but triumphant. +Hat under his arm and both hands heavily laden, he made a gingerly +progress to the place of his tryst, a comparatively unpopulated corner +near the door. And there she stood, her comely youth brought into sharp +relief by her surroundings, side by side with the living hunger and +thirst of Jenny, whose yearning eyes summoned the young man like a +beacon. + +Miss Carstairs happened to be looking in another direction. Varney, +standing before her, calmly took up their acquaintance where he had left +it last night at her mother's gate. + +"Good evening, Miss Carstairs. I bear refreshment for your little +friend. What a magnificent evening for Hare and Reform, isn't it?" + +She turned, startled at the sound of his voice, looked at him, and +looked at once away. + +"Oh ... yes, indeed. I--am waiting for Mr. Hare now. Jenny, are you sure +you haven't seen him come out?" + +"Yessum," said Jenny, her eyes all for the tall stranger. + +Unable to resist their imploring appeal, he turned at once and delivered +his burden. + +"Ice-cream--lemonade--" he made inventory--"cake with icing--tin +spoon--paper napkin in my pocket. Is there anything else?" + +"I think," said Jenny, conscientiously, "there's figs." + +"You do not wish any figs to-night, Jenny," declared Miss Carstairs, +rather more severely than mere figs seemed to warrant. + +"_No'm!_ I thought maybe he might want some." + +"I doubt if I'll take any figs to-night, either," laughed Varney. "But +mayn't I get something for you, Miss Carstairs? I'm happy to say that +the chocolate is holding out better than we feared." + +"Thank you," she said, apparently addressing the child, "I don't believe +I wish anything." + +Jenny here produced and handed around a small, rather dangerous-looking +paper-bag, which proved, upon investigation, to contain marshmallows. +Miss Carstairs declined. Varney, to show how unimpeachable he considered +his standing with the party, gratefully accepted. + +"I'm afraid," he said, looking at Miss Carstairs, "that Mr. Hare's +admirers are likely to detain him some time. If you don't care to wait +so long, perhaps you would again give me the pleasure of supplanting him +and taking you home--you and Miss--Miss Jenny?" + +"No, thank you--I am sure he will be out soon ... You look awfully +trampled on and--mashed, Jenny," she continued, twitching the child's +hat on straight. "And _my dear! Don't_ eat so fast." + +Despite himself, Varney felt his blood rising a little. "Miss +Carstairs," he said slowly, "I must tell you that I came with Miss Jenny +on purpose to see you. There is something that I wanted to say." + +She raised her eyes then, and though their look was very young and +embarrassed, he felt himself lose something of his composure under it. + +"You wanted to say something--to me?" + +"A good deal. I have an explanation to make--" + +"I'm afraid that I have not time to--listen--Mr. Hare--" + +"You must listen--to be fair," he said slowly. "I have to blame myself +for it, but you are doing me an injustice at this moment. I am not--that +man." + +She made no answer. Beside them, Miss Jenny ate ice-cream succulently. +All around them were people jostling this way and that, laughing, +shouting: but they might have been alone on a mountain-top for all +either was aware of them. + +"Since I have been in Hunston--just a day," Varney said easily, "I seem +to have done nothing but explain over and over that I am not Mr. +Stanhope. I got awfully tired of it, Miss Carstairs; it seemed so +horribly useless. Like the others, you insisted that I was he. You +candidly didn't believe me--" + +"No," she said, "that is true." + +"I shall make you believe me now," said Varney. + +A great hullabaloo suddenly arose around them. Four or five men broke +pellmell, and for the most part backwards, out of the swing-doors, +evidently ejected from within. A lonely-looking policeman, on guard at +the entrance, charged them. The lobby was already thronged; now people +retreating before that violent infusion of arms and legs crowded them +close. + +Varney, standing in front of Miss Carstairs, shielded her from the +press, her capable buffer. Soon he noticed that that part of the wall +upon which she leaned was not a wall, but a door. He reached past her, +turned the knob, revealed a brilliantly-lit little room. + +"Ah!... A haven, Miss Carstairs." + +She stepped backward, into the tiny box-office where Ryan had stood two +hours before and cynically waited for his sport to begin. It was empty +now, offering a perfect refuge. Varney followed and stood with his hand +on the knob just inside the door. + +"Thank you," said Miss Carstairs, breathing a little rapidly. "The +meetings have never been as bad as this before. But--I must not lose +sight of Jenny." + +"I'm here, Miss Mary," gurgled an ice-creamy voice at the door. + +"I think I had better wait outside after all," said Mary. "Mr. Hare will +hardly know where to look for me." + +"Miss Jenny will be his clew: he couldn't miss her," said Varney. "Let +me go on, while I have time. Miss Carstairs, it is not fair to either of +us to let matters stay like this. In the cottage last night, you forced +me to let you think I was--another man--" + +"That is absurd," she said. "How could I possibly force you to say what +was not--the fact?" + +"Did I really say anything that was not--the fact? I tried particularly +not to. But I did let you deceive yourself about it: that is quite true +and I'm sorry. I did it because--well, because if I hadn't done it, you +were not going to let me walk home with you." + +She leaned against the little desk at which the Academy man sat to sell +tickets, and hesitated, almost imperceptibly. "Then why," she asked, +"should you wish to _undeceive_ me now?" + +"You know why," he answered. "If I don't, something tells me that you +are not going to speak to me any more." + +Her silence conceded the truth of this. It began to be evident how +difficult he had made matters for himself. + +Varney laughed. "I am determined to make you believe me, yet just how am +I to go about it? It's rather an absurd position, when you come to think +of it--this arguing with somebody as to who one is. Suppose I were that +fellow, Miss Carstairs. How could I possibly hope to come back to my old +hometown and persuade people to believe that I am somebody else?" + +Her eyes had wandered out through the little grated window, and she made +no reply. + +"You see how preposterous that would be. A mere resemblance is not +enough to condemn a man upon, Miss Carstairs." + +She turned her head with a sudden gesture of annoyance. "What difference +can it possibly make whether I speak to you or not, Mr. St--" + +"_Don't!_" he interrupted swiftly. "You know my name. You shall not call +me by that one." + +Hare's neat pink face appeared at the ticket-window, for all the world +like a belated theatre-goer, anxious for several in the orchestra. + +"Ah, Mary! There you are! Whenever you are ready--" + +"I have been waiting for you a long time," said Miss Carstairs. "It was +so splendid, Mr. Hare! Is Jenny there? We'll go at once." + +She turned to Varney, cool as a dewy rose, and came forward a short +step. "I--I must say this before I go: has no one told you that you are +in danger here?" + +Under her tone and her look, his plan of being the easy master of the +situation grew increasingly difficult. "Everybody has told me," he said +rather shortly. "It's gotten to be a bore." + +"Then--won't you--won't you please go away before--anything happens?" + +"I am going on Thursday afternoon," he answered, stung by her beauty, +which was so remote, and by the sudden compassion in her voice. "My +engagements will keep me here till that day, you remember? I promise +you, since you are so good as to interest yourself in the matter, that I +shall leave Hunston directly after that--" + +"Your engagements on Thursday?" she repeated, looking away. "Are--you +speaking of--" + +"The luncheon on my yacht. We are inviting Mr. Hare and his sister to +meet you." + +"I am sorry," began Miss Carstairs, not looking at him, "but--I--I find +that I shall n--" + +"Er--Mary?" said the candidate's voice through the window. + +She turned toward the door at once, as though welcoming a summons which +so opportunely relieved her from embarrassing explanations: but Varney, +who happened to have duties to her father to discharge, stood before +her, not moving. + +"Just now in the theatre," he said pleasantly, "you cut me. That was for +him. I understood. But is there any valid reason why you should not stay +on speaking terms with--Laurence Varney?" + +To his surprise, a vivid red swept up her face from throat to hair and +her eyes fluttered and fell. + +"Please," she said, "don't ask me to discuss this any more." + +Varney stood aside, bowing, to let her pass out. + +"I shall bring you proofs of my identity to-morrow, since that seems +necessary," he said with a laugh. "You won't refuse to see me, if you +care anything about being fair. But shall I tell you something, Miss +Carstairs? In your heart _you believe me now_!" + +At the outer door, Varney all but collided with a man listlessly +entering, and, glancing up, saw that it was the pale young editor, +Coligny Smith. + +"I hope you enjoyed the meeting," flung out Varney in passing. + +"Why, greetings--greetings!" said Mr. Smith, a mocking smile on his thin +lips. "I've just been out to buy your picture, Beany." + +With which singular rejoinder, he slipped by into the lobby. + + * * * * * + +J. Pinkney Hare lingered some time in the theatre after Miss Carstairs +joined him, enveloped in a heartening whirl of new popularity. To the +candidate it seemed that his star had changed with stunning swiftness. +His advance to the door had been a Roman progress; and when he finally +reached the lobby he was still the focus of a coterie of enthusiasts who +would not be shaken off. Here a new halt was made: new people surrounded +him; more hand-shakings and back-slappings took place; and everything +seemed merry as a marriage-bell. + +But Peter, coming out of the hall a moment after Varney had left, saw +hovering about this intimate circle an elderly man of a faded exterior +and shabby clothes, who wore a black felt hat pulled down over +wary-looking eyes. Even at that moment of splendid triumph, Peter was +annoyed to recognize in him the man Higginson, of whose too friendly +interest in the candidate's doings he had complained to Varney a few +hours earlier. Whether he was, in truth, the man who had followed them +on the street the night before, he was not ready to make affidavit. But +undoubtedly there was something furtive in the man's appearance and +manner; and Peter, watching him from the door, was highly irritated to +see Hare present the fellow to Miss Carstairs, who smiled on him as upon +one of her friend's good friends. + +"The sneak!" thought Peter. "I'll just drop him a quiet hint to butt out +before he gets hurt." + +But his "head-usher" due to vanish back to New York by the +ten-forty-five claimed him just then for a business talk, and when Peter +had time to think of Mr. Higginson again, he found that the man had +disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +THE EDITOR OF THE GAZETTE PLAYS A CARD FROM HIS SLEEVE + +Varney slept badly. The night was long, like art and the lanes that have +no turning; and interludes punctuated it, now and again, when he lay +wide-eyed in his bunk, staring into the darkness. At these times without +exception, he thought how, early in the morning, he would climb the hill +to the white house, blandly proffering letters to show that he was no +cad, no cur, but Laurence Varney, whom ladies need not flee from as from +the plague; suavely putting Uncle Elbert's daughter so utterly in the +wrong that he himself would grow merciful towards her abashment, and +sorry. + +He fell asleep, woke again, rehearsed once more what he would say to +her. At last he saw the dawn break along the horizon and the gray of a +new day meet and mingle with the receding darkness. It was Wednesday. +To-morrow would be Thursday, and he could go away, his business done. +The prospect was rich recompense for everything. It came to him, +suddenly and for the first time, that he hated his mission in Hunston +with a disheartening and sickening hatred. And formulating this thought, +polishing it to aphorism and sharpening it to epigram, he slumbered and +slept for the last time that night. + +But on the heels of the morning came Peter, bursting in half-dressed, a +newspaper flaunting in his hand, an unfastened suspender flapping behind +him like a pennant on a clubhouse. + +"Oh, you're awake, are you?" said he, looking very keen and wide-awake +himself. "Good! You'd hardly want to be dead to the world while this +kind of thing is going on." + +Varney, on an elbow, sleepily surprised at this vehemence, said: "What's +up?" + +"The jig!" cried Peter succinctly. "At least it looks that way. It's +that rascal Smith." + +He sat down on the edge of Varney's bunk, the folded newspaper in his +hand, and continued: "I ran out before I was dressed to look at this +contemptible _Gazette_, because I wanted to see how they handled the +meeting last night. But the minute I picked it up, I saw this, +and--well, by George! Look at it!" + +He whipped open the _Gazette_ with a movement which all but shredded it +and thrust it into Varney's hand. Varney sat up in bed and smoothed it +out upon the coverlet. + +Coligny Smith was clever and his eye ranged wide. He saw all the chances +that there were, and what he saw he made the most of. For his front-page +"picture feature" that morning, he had selected a two-column half-tone +of a good-looking, though not altogether pleasant-faced young man; and +beneath it had indited in bold capitals which the most casual eye could +not miss: "Mr. Ferris Stanhope, Author and Former Hunstonian, Who Has +Just Arrived in Town." + +"I see," said Varney, slowly. "Meaning me." Beside the portrait ran a +"story," which said in part: + + "It leaked out yesterday that the 'mysterious stranger' + who suddenly appeared off Hunston in an elegant + private yacht on Monday night, is none other than Ferris + Stanhope, well-known author of novels of the pink-tea + type.... + + "Mr. Stanhope is a native of Hunston, and is well + remembered here. As the result of certain escapades + which need not be detailed in a home paper like the + _Gazette_, he left town, somewhat hurriedly, one night + twelve years ago. Until Monday he has never been back + since. The news of his arrival has not been received + with general expressions of pleasure. Predictions were + freely made about the streets yesterday that if certain + old and respected citizens of Hunston should chance to + meet the author, trouble is sure to arise. + + "Why Mr. Stanhope should have elected to come back + to Hunston has not yet been ascertained. Some say that + it is the result of a bet, friends having wagered that he + would not venture to return for a month's stay here. + These declare that he is using the yacht as base of operations + to reconnoiter and determine whether it is safe to + land. Color is lent to this theory by the pains which the + distinguished author is taking to conceal his identity. + The name of the yacht has been carefully erased, and he + is using, it is said, an assumed name. + + "The secret of Mr. Stanhope's identity came out too + late last night for the _Gazette_ to obtain an interview. + With him on the yacht is a 'Mr. Maginnis,' representing + himself as a wealthy New Yorker and a 'student of + government.' Both gentlemen, it is said, are claimed as + allies by Hunston's new 'Reform party.'" + +Peter broke out the moment Varney laid down the paper, but Varney, +staring absently out of the porthole, did not listen. This, then, was +the meaning of the pale young editor's enigmatical remark last night. +Here was no idle malice. Diabolically resourceful and without shame, +young Mr. Smith had circulated this lie to discredit reform and drive +off its new champion. And this was the way that he, Varney, had kept the +coming of the _Cypriani_ quiet in Hunston! + +"And think of the cursed bull luck of it!" cried Peter. "The most the +rascal hoped to do was to ruin my plans for helping Hare by these dirty +hints about both of us--at the best to scare us away from Hunston. He +never dreamed that he was knocking the bottom out of any private plans +of _yours_!" + +Varney stretched and yawned. "Well, he isn't." + +"Doubtless I am a stupid ass and all that," said Peter, staring, "but +with the _Gazette_ publishing it about the countryside that you are a +yellow dog of the worst nature, I don't grasp how you expect Miss +Carstairs to come on this yacht and lunch with you." + +A knock sounded on the stateroom door, and McTosh entered, announcing +two telegrams for Mr. Varney. + +Varney, wondering a little who had known his whereabouts, took the +yellow envelopes, nodded to the steward not to wait, broke them open, +read the typewritten words within, read them again. + +Then he looked up and found Peter gazing at him more or less +expectantly. + +Varney laughed. "Do you remember that night at the club my saying to +you, as a great inducement: 'Suppose the New York papers get on to +this'?" + +Peter nodded. + +Varney handed him the yellow slips; then he arose and pushed the service +button. + +"McTosh," he said, "send to town at once and get me copies of the _Sun_, +the _Times_, the _Daily_ and the _Herald_--all the New York papers. No, +go yourself, and don't stay longer than is absolutely necessary." + +Peter, meantime, with a heart beating as it had not beat the night +before when he had overthrown Ryan and stolen his meeting, was reading +the following: + + _Daily_ story has got us all guessing. If it's really + you, what the devil are you up to, anyway? + R. E. TOWNES. + +The other was in a similar vein: + + Alarming story in _Daily_ to-day. Absolute secrecy a + prerequisite as explained. Reporters tried to reach me + to-night. Trust you fully, but implore you to proceed + with utmost caution. + ELBERT CARSTAIRS. + +"The plot thickens," said Peter when Varney turned back, "till I, for +one, can't see the drift. However--you've sent for the _Daily_?" + +Varney nodded. "I told him to get three or four others, too, for a +blind." + +"Politics," said Peter, in his calmest fighting manner, "is all off. I'm +not the least interested in it. We'll give the morning to studying +yellow journalism. But about Miss Carstairs. How can you possibly--" + +"By heaven," said Varney, with a sudden burst of anger, "I'll make her +know who I am, if I have to drag in her own mother to introduce me." + +He went off to his bath, dressed hurriedly, dawdled a moment at the +breakfast-table, where he found Peter discussing a cereal not without a +certain solemn pleasure, and went above grappling with the thought that +all this would mean a postponement of his call at the Carstairs house, +and maybe something more serious still. The morning was sunny and crisp. +He walked to the bow, briskly, by way of a constitutional, turned and +started down again. As he did this, his eye fell upon a strange figure +which had at first escaped him. Toward the stern of the _Cypriani_, near +the wheel, a little runt of a boy hung over the rail, and made the air +noxious with the relicts of a low-born cigar. He was an aged, cynical +boy, with a phlegmatic mien and a face of the complexion and general +appearance of a hickory-nut. + +A little surprised by the sudden apparition, Varney came down the deck +and dropped into a chair near him. + +"Well, my lad! I'm happy to see you and your cigar again. But to what do +we owe the pleasure of this call from you two old friends?" + +The boy turned his back to the rail and faced him impassively. In the +brilliant sunshine, he looked singularly worn and wise. + +"I brung dem wires," he said courageously plying the cigar. "Any +answer?" + +"I'll see, after a while," said Varney, hastily lighting a pipe as +counter-irritant. "So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" + +"Nawser. Odjobbin' I do. Anythink as comes handy. They don't deliver no +wires down here. I handles 'em sometimes for wut dere is in it." + +"Oh! Well, I won't fail to see that there is something in it for you +this time. And do you make much money odd-jobbing?" + +"I git along awright. Summertimes I do. Wintertimes there ain't no +odjobbin' much." + +"How old are you, my boy?" + +"Twelve year old." + +"Twelve! I thought you were sixteen, at least." + +A faint look of gratification crossed the boy's face, but he only said +stoically: "Twelve year's my age." + +"What do you do in the wintertime when there isn't much odd-jobbing? How +do you get along then?" + +"I git along awright. Sometimes I git help. Off a lady here, a frien' o' +mine." + +"What lady? What's her name?" + +"Name o' Miss Mary. Miss Carstair, some calls her. I git money and clo's +off her. I'd 'a' had some bum winters, hadn't ben for her." + +There was a pause, and then Varney said: "What's your name, my boy?" + +Again the boy hesitated. "Tommy," he said presently. + +"Tommy what?" + +"Tommy--Orrick." + +Varney started. Of all the sordid Hunston of the natives, that was the +one name which meant anything to him. It was rather a curious +coincidence. + +"Then I suppose old Sam Orrick," he said kindly, "is your father's +father." + +"Nawser," he answered slowly. And he added presently, "He wuz me +mudder's father." + +After that, the silence lengthened. Varney looked off down the river. +Tommy Orrick, whose father was named something else, clapped his hand +suddenly to his lip, because his cigar just then scorched it unbearably. + +"What is your father's name, Tommy?" asked Varney, in a low voice. + +His back toward Varney, his fragment of a cigar poised, reluctantly +ready to drop, the boy shook his head. "I don't rightly know," he said +in his husky little voice. + +But Varney knew that name: and he said it now slowly over to himself in +a dull and futile anger. + +From the shore a boat put out hurriedly and the faithful steward came +flying over the water with meritorious speed. With him he was bringing +the papers that might settle the _Cypriani's_ mission, but Varney, for +the moment, hardly gave him a thought. His own affairs were blotted from +his mind just then by the tragedy of the little waif before him, +luckless victim of another's sin, small flotsam which barely weathered +the winters when odd-jobbing was scarce, and only one lady cared. + +"Where do you live, Tommy?" + +"Kerrigan's loft mostly--w'en Kerrigan ain't dere." + +"This morning," said Varney rapidly, "I'm just as busy as a bee. But +this afternoon, or to-morrow morning anyway, I want to come down to +Kerrigan's and call on you." + +"Wut about?" the boy demanded with an instant suspiciousness which was +rather pathetic. + +"About you, Tommy. I have got a little plan in my head, and there isn't +any time to talk about it now. What would you say to having a home with +some nice people I know in another city--in New York?" + +A sudden dumbness seized Tommy. His head slowly lowered and he did not +answer. Around the deck-house from the port-side hurried McTosh, his arm +embracing a bundle of papers, his brow beady with the honest toil of +speed wrung out of country paths. + +"Ah, steward! You made good time. Ask Mr. Maginnis if he won't come on +deck when he is at leisure. Thomas, you're for the shore, aren't you? +Forward, there!" + +He got up and stood by the side of grave little Tommy Orrick, who was +staring silently down at the white deck. + +"Down in New York, Tommy, I know a nice woman who has a home and no boys +at all to put in it. A long time ago she used to be the nurse of a boy I +knew, but he grew up; and now her husband's dead and she's all alone. +And here in Hunston is a boy with no home to put himself in. That's you, +Tommy, and I--but here's your boat. I'll come to see you to-morrow at +Kerrigan's--sure, and we'll talk it all over. Good-bye. And remember +that you and I are just the best friends going." + +He held out his hand, to shake, but Tommy, in an excess of stage-fright +at the unwonted ceremonial, nimbly turned his back; and the next instant +he slipped over the rail like an acrobat and dropped into the waiting +dinghy. Safely there, he glanced tentatively upward; but seeing that the +tall man above was still standing at the rail and was smiling down upon +him, looked tactfully away again. And Varney heard him say to the +oarsman in a snappy, impatient voice: "Pull for all you know, dere! I +got bizness dat won't keep." + +Varney sat down with the bundle of papers. Within the minute, Peter +appeared, replete but characteristically alert. + +"Read it yet?" + +"No, but I've found it. It wasn't hard." + +He handed Peter the paper, his thumb crooked to indicate the place, +which was superfluous; for near the middle of the front page, top of +column and in the strong type of captions, the words leaped out to +Peter's eye as though hand-illumined in many colors: + + FERRIS STANHOPE OR LAURENCE VARNEY + + Mystery Surrounding Young Man On Yacht Near Hunston. + + He Says He's Varney--Natives say He's Stanhope + and Trouble Feared--Yacht is Elbert Carstairs's, with + Her Name Painted Out--Mr. Varney's Movements + Unknown to Friends Here. + +Peter read the story aloud in a guarded undertone. In general, it +closely followed the story in the _Gazette_; so closely indeed as to +show at a glance that both productions came from one brain and pen. But +toward the end, the new story took a different turn. It said: + +"The above is a sample of the gossip which is agitating this usually +quiet little town. Late to-night there are two distinct factions. One +holds that the young 'stranger' is Ferris Stanhope, reconnoitring under +an _alias_. The other contends that he is really Laurence Varney, or +somebody else, up here on some secret mission. Unless the stranger +leaves town before, the facts will doubtless be brought out to-morrow. +The gossips promise that a sensation of no mean order is forthcoming." + +Below this, some one in the _Daily_ office had added: + +"A certain air of mystery surrounds Laurence Varney's recent movements. +At his bachelor apartments, in the Arvonia, it was learned last night +that Mr. Varney was out of the city, but the man-servant there had no +idea of his master's whereabouts. From other sources, however, it was +learned that Mr. Varney left New York several days ago on the +_Cypriani_, a handsome steam yacht belonging to Elbert Carstairs of No. +00 Fifth Avenue. An attempt was made to reach Mr. Carstairs at his home, +but the hour was late, and he could not be interviewed. A telegram sent +to Ferris Stanhope's last known address, Camp Skagway in the +Adirondacks, was unanswered up to the hour of going to press." + +Peter let the paper drop upon his knees, and whistled father +shamefacedly. Here was a pretty kettle of fish indeed, and it was all of +his brewing. If he had kept his fingers out of the affairs of Hunston, +as both his enemy and his friend had warned him to do, the unscrupulous +editor would have had no interest in attacking him, over his captain's +shoulders, and this damaging story would never have been concocted and +spread broadcast as a feast for gossips. He had been brought to Hunston +to help Varney--and here was the front-page result. + +If a similar thought flashed across Varney's mind in this disturbing +moment, he instantly forgot it for others more practical. He sat curled +up in a folding deck-chair, swiftly weighing what this new issue might +mean, and a moment of rather heavy silence ensued. + +The cat was all but out of the bag: this fatal hint at "some secret +mission" made that plain. A little carelessness, some more shrewd +probing into his affairs, and the jig would be up, indeed. This was the +one way that their enemies in Hunston could interfere with +him--insisting on knowing why he had come there; and Coligny Smith had +had the bull luck, as Peter put it, to stumble on it. + +Thus it fell out that he, Varney, who had needed to seek the dark and +unobtrusive ways, found himself thrust suddenly into the full glare of +the calcium. He who was guarding an errand which nobody should know +about was now to be asked by everybody who read newspapers just what +that errand was. + +It was so absurd that all at once he laughed aloud. However, it was +becoming quite serious, and he saw that, too. + +"Damn him!" broke out Peter, compactly, and he added presently: "Think +of his throwing a bomb in the air like that, and smoking out poor old +Carstairs!" + +Varney looked up, knocked out his pipe against his heel, and restored it +thoughtfully to his pocket. "Yes. Did you notice the difference between +those two stories? He doesn't want Hunston even to suspect that I may be +myself. His game here is to _know_ I'm Stanhope, whom the whole town is +sore on. In New York, he tries both stories, not knowing which will hurt +the most. However, theories will keep. The facts are plain. They've +started out to run us down--that's all. The point is now to decide what +we are going to do about it." + +He stood up, tall and cool, his jaw shut tightly, his brow puckered into +a long frown, thinking rapidly. + +"As I see it," he said slowly, "it works about like this. Probably the +_Gazette_ is the local news bureau for this town. At any rate, it is +evident that somebody on it is the correspondent of the _Daily_. The +_Gazette_, we know, wants to run you out of town in order to have a free +hand in slaughtering Hare. Last night they supposed that my looking like +Stanhope was the best card they had. This morning they will guess that +there may be a still better one lying around somewhere. The _Daily_ +tells them that I'm Varney, and, what is much more interesting, that I'm +using Elbert Carstairs's yacht. Mrs. Elbert Carstairs lives in Hunston. +Putting two and two together, and adding the painted-out name and a dash +of seeming furtiveness on my part, you have all the materials for a +nice, yellow mystery. I haven't the slightest doubt that when that +telegraph editor in New York gets down to his office about one o'clock +to-day, the very first thing he does, after hanging his coat on the +nail, is to wire his correspondent to begin operating on me." + +Peter nailed the alternative. "If he doesn't, the _Gazette_ will attend +to the job, anyway." + +"Yes, the press is on our trail, in any case. The fact that this is the +Carstairs yacht will mean more to the _Gazette_ than it could to the +_Daily_. It will be a kind of connecting link for them. Of course, +they'll jump at it like wildfire. If they can make anything at all out +of it, they'll play it up to-morrow so that nobody in this town can +possibly miss seeing it." + +"Pray heaven," said Peter, referring to Mary Carstairs, "that she won't +see the _Daily_ this morning!" + +"Yes. Her father's name would naturally start her to thinking, which +would make things awkward." + +"Larry, the _Gazette_ is going to print his name to-morrow morning as +sure as Smith is a lying sneak." + +"We've still got to-day, haven't we? By Jove, it's nearly eleven +already. A reporter may be down on us at almost any minute. We can't +stand being cross-examined. No searchlight of journalism playing about +on the _Cypriani_ just now, thank you. My own idea is--" + +"To grab him, to batter the face off him--" + +"No, to elude him. Not to be here. In short, to run away." + +"_What?_ You can't mean that you are going to let that dog drive you +back to New York?" + +"Well, hardly. But I do mean to make him think he has! I mean to run +down the river a few miles and anchor where they can't find us, simply +to get out of the way. Then we'll run back to-morrow in time for the +luncheon. What do you think of that?" + +Peter, his forehead rumpled like a corduroy road, stared at him fixedly +and thought it over. "I think it's the best thing in sight," he said +judicially. "An exceedingly neat little idea." + +"If we're being watched, it may persuade them that we've gone. Anyway, +it will give us time to decide what next," said Varney. And he hurried +off to confer with the sailing-master. + +Presently the engine-room bell rang out a signal. Orders were given and +repeated above and below. Men began moving about swiftly. The noise of +coal scraped hurriedly out of bunkers smote the air. The _Cypriani's_ +hold throbbed with sudden life. + +Varney, running hastily through the two newspaper stories again to make +sure that they had missed nothing that might be important to them, was +presently joined by Peter, who was looking at his watch every third +minute and swearing softly every time he looked. Something had been +discovered amiss with the machinery, it seemed. The captain was sure he +would have the plaguy thing all right in another half-hour, but you +never could tell. For his part he'd swear that a yacht was worse than +an old-style motor car: you could absolutely count on her to be out of +order at any moment when you positively had to have her. + +To be delayed until somebody appeared to challenge their going was to +lose half the battle. Varney went off to the sailing-master and spoke +with him again, concisely. The sailing-master, a sensitive man to +criticism, once more apologized, very technically, and redoubled his +energies. He went below himself to superintend the repairs and to prod +the laggards to their utmost endeavors. In less than three quarters of +an hour, by Peter's watch, he was up again, in a shower of falling +perspiration, to announce that all was ready. + +However, valuable moments had been lost. It was now nearly half-past +twelve, or, in Peter's indignant summary, "just an hour and a half too +late." + +Varney glanced toward the bridge. + +"All ready there?" he called. + +"All ready, sir," said the sailing-master, and sprang for the indicator. + +"Hold on," said Peter suddenly. "We're getting visitors. There's some +one signaling us from the shore." + +Varney's heart bounded. He turned with an exclamation; but in the next +breath, he ordered: "Let her go, Ferguson." + +Upon the shore, at the spot where the _Cypriani's_ boat ordinarily +landed, stood a tallish, stocky young man, looking at them cheerfully +and swabbing his brow with a large blue handkerchief. Catching Varney's +eye, he waved his hand with the handkerchief in it, and said, for the +second time: + +"Hello, aboard the _Cypriani!_" + +Varney stepped to the rail, a faint smile on his lip. "Hello, there! +What can we do for you?" + +"Hot as merry hell, isn't it?" said the young man pleasantly. "Send a +boat over for me, will you? I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the New +York _Daily_, and I want to come aboard for a little talk." + +"Never in this world!" breathed Peter, _sotto voce_. + +Varney smiled, grimly. "Sorry, Mr. Hammerton. You're just too late. We +are starting away from Hunston this very minute." + +The _Cypriani_ shuddered like a live thing and slid slowly forward. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +WHICH SHOWS THE HERO A FUGITIVE + +Four miles downstream, the river's banks grew a long mile apart, and the +scenery was lonesome and a little wild. Here, as it chanced, there was +flung across the water a thin, rocky island, well-wooded and of a +respectable length. It lay nearest the western shore; and not a hamlet +or even a house, it seemed, commanded it from either side. + +They recognized it from afar as ideal anchorage for a yacht which wanted +to be let alone. So they slowed down into the island's curving shore and +dropped anchor in the lee of it, out of sight of the Hunston side of the +river and in little evidence from any point in midstream above or below. + +Securely hidden from the probing eye of the press, they were now in +something of a quandary as to what their next step should be. The hour +set for the luncheon, upon which their mission hung, was only +twenty-four hours away: and they had no idea whether the guest of honor +intended to come or stay away. Varney was torn between the necessity of +keeping clear of reporters, and the even more pressing necessity of +calling upon Mary Carstairs. If to go to town was a risk, not to go to +town was a much greater one. + +They finally decided that Peter should go to Hunston first, at once and +alone. He would walk in, lest the use of the _Cypriani_ boat should +betray them; and there take charge of the situation and see what could +be done. + +"You sit tight," Peter urged, "and give me a chance at it first. The +_Gazette_ has got nothing on me, you know; they can camp on my +shirt-tail till they get good and tired. Meantime, I'll spread it around +that you've gone away and that I'm hanging on a day or two longer to +help Hare. You only came on a pleasure trip, and all these sensational +lies spoiled your pleasure: so you pulled out. That's plausible and +reasonably true, you see. Then I'm going to find that fellow Hammerton +and try to bluff him off." + +"How?" + +"I'd much like to give him money, but it's never safe to try that with +reporters. Oh, I'll hobnob with the fellow, hand him cigars, jolly him +along about the neat way they got revenge on us for the meeting, and +sort of take it for granted that the incident ended when they chased you +away from town. If he seems dubious and acts as if he meant to work on +the 'secret mission' idea just the same, I'll go in and call on Coligny +Smith. Oh, I'm not going to hit him. If I hadn't known that would be the +worst possible tactics, I'd have gone uptown at nine o'clock this +morning and yanked him out of bed by his long, lying ears. I'm only +going to talk to him in a kindly way. He told us himself that he was out +for the hard money, you know." + +"All right," said Varney. + +Peter hesitated. "You've _got_ to go in, I suppose? It's hard luck. Here +we are working overtime to build up the popular idea that you've quit +and gone back to New York. It'll be deuced awkward if that reporter nabs +you the minute you set foot in Hunston." + +"I've got to risk it. I'll wait a while, though, and give them a chance +to drop the trail. And when I do go in, I'm not going with a brass +band." + +"There's not the least hurry," said Peter. "You've got all the rest of +the day--to-morrow morning, too, for that matter. Wait here till you +hear from me, will you? Maybe I can turn up something which will save +you from having to go in at all." + +Varney grinned. "Remember yesterday, Peter?--when you were coming back +at ten o'clock and came at four? No more unlimited contracts from me. It +is twenty minutes past one now. You can get in by two thirty if you +hustle. I must start in by half-past four. It wouldn't be safe to wait +any longer." + +"Give me a show, will you? Make it five, anyway." + +"Five, then. If you're not back on the dot, in I start for my call. Till +we meet again." + +Peter started down the stair, hesitated, turned and came back again. +"Larry," he said, with sudden gruffness, "of course, we 've both been +thinking that if it hadn't been for me, none of this mess would have +happened. I kick myself when I think--" + +"Drop it, Peter. Nobody in the world could have foreseen--" + +"Every ass in the United States," said Maginnis, his ponderous foot on +the ladder, "could have foreseen it but me. I just want you to know that +politics is absolutely sidetracked now. Before I'll let this deal of +ours fall through, I'll see Hare licked till they can't scrape him +together afterward with a fine-tooth comb." + +It was deadly quiet on the yacht after Peter left. At two o'clock Varney +went down to a solitary luncheon. At quarter past, followed by the +reproachful gaze of McTosh, he came out again. In the pit of his stomach +reposed a great emptiness, but it was not hunger. He felt restless, +high-strung, all made of nerves. He wanted to do something of a violent, +physical sort, the more grueling the better; and his task was to loll in +an easy-chair under a pretty awning and inspect the landscape. + +The port side of the _Cypriani_ was jammed as close into the island as +the science of navigation made possible. Varney went over to the other +side and sat down to wait. In front of him, a hundred yards away, the +western bank rose abruptly from the water's edge, reaching here and +there to loftiness. There were woods upon it, thick and silent, which +looked as if the defiling hand of man had never entered there. At his +back was the still, empty little island; at either side stretched the +deserted river. + +He thought it as lonely a spot as could have been found in a day's +journey, but a moment later he discovered his mistake. It was suddenly +borne in upon him that the tall, thin object which nestled so closely +among the trees a mile to the south that it was scarcely distinguishable +from them, was in reality the spire of some church; and he knew that he +was much closer to his kind than he had thought. + +And then, in time, he noticed other things. Before a great while, he saw +a boat with one person in it--a woman he thought--put out from the shore +at about where the village must be and start across to the other bank. +And later, as the afternoon wore on, he caught sight of a canoe, a few +hundred yards upstream, rocking idly down with the current. An +elderly-looking man sat in it, with a short brown beard and sun-goggles +showing under his soft hat--for the water burned under a brilliant +sky--stolidly fishing and reading a book. He looked like a rusticating +college professor--of Greek, say--and this theory seemed to be supported +by his obvious ignorance as to how to keep a canoe on the popular side +of the water. + +And later still a row-boat came swinging briskly up the quiet channel +where the yacht lay and passed her at fifty yards. A man and a woman sat +in it, presumably bound for Hunston, and they stared at the hidden, +detected _Cypriani_ with a degree of frank interest which suggested that +they would not fail to mention the strange sight to every acquaintance +they met in town. + +"That's the beauty about a yacht," thought Varney, annoyed. "You might +as well try to hide an elephant in a hall room." + +But his mind soon strayed from the pair of bumpkins and went off to +other and more pressing matters. He had now, not one great difficulty to +meet and overcome, but two. One of them was to make Uncle Elbert's +daughter keep her engagement with him. The other was to prevent the +_Gazette_ from linking the name of the _Cypriani_ with the name of +Carstairs to-morrow morning. About the first of these he allowed himself +no doubts. If the worst came to the worst, he would turn to Mrs. +Carstairs. Brutal it might be to compel the mother to introduce the +kidnapper to his quarry, her daughter; but that was no fault of his. He +would do his duty by Mrs. Carstairs's husband, no matter who got hurt. +Miss Carstairs should come to the _Cypriani_ to-morrow as she had +promised. In heaven or earth, on land or sea, there was no power which +should keep him from having his will there. + +But then there was the _Gazette_. Smith, the clever, would doubt that +the _Cypriani_ had really gone back to New York. Suppose, since he could +not find her, he would venture a few shrewd guesses in his paper +to-morrow morning connecting that "secret mission" the _Daily_ had +mentioned with Mrs. Elbert Carstairs. Miss Carstairs would see what the +_Gazette_ said; and what questions would she have to ask him before she +would come as his guest to the yacht?... + +A ripple of water fell across the young man's thought, and he glanced +up. The college professor, whom the current had washed much nearer now, +fancying, it appeared, that he had got a bite, had suddenly thrown +himself far over the edge of his canoe, stretching his rod to the +farthest reach. The slender birch-bark tipped so violently that even he +noticed it; and the next instant, he sprang back again, rocking at a +great rate. + +"Simpleton!" thought Varney. "He will go over in a minute...." + +Now her face rose before him as he had seen it first last night at +Stanhope's cottage, radiant as a dream come true--looking at him and +saying: "I'd like it very much if you could just trust _me!_" And he saw +her again when she had looked at him, eye to eye over the many heads +before the theatre, with only blank unrecognition in her glance, or had +there been, after all, a sort of latent sorrowfulness there? And then he +saw her once more, as she stood in the little box-office, her cheeks +suddenly stained red, when she begged him, please, not to ask her to +discuss it any more.... + +A sudden sharp thought came to him, putting all his imaginings to +flight, a thought so vital and so obvious that it was incredible that it +had not once crossed his mind before. If the _Gazette_ doubted that he +had returned to New York, if it was still on his trail and still wanted +to embarrass him, _it would send a man straight to Mrs. Carstairs_. + +How could he possibly have overlooked that? With the secret of the +_Cypriani's_ ownership out, of course that would be the first thing +Smith would think of: to ask Mrs. Carstairs what had brought her +husband's yacht to Hunston. And when the reporter went, who could say +what damaging admission he might surprise out of the poor lady, or at +the least what inklings to hang diabolical guesses upon? Worst of all, +he might see Miss Carstairs herself--awaken no one knew what suspicions +in her already perplexed mind. + +He sprang up and glanced at his watch. It was twenty minutes past four. +Every minute had become precious now, and waiting for Peter was of +course not to be thought of. While he loitered ineffectually here, +Coligny Smith, four miles away, might be doing his plans the +irremediable injury. And he started for the cabin swiftly to get his +hat. + +But there came an interruption which stopped him short. A quick loud +splashing and sudden cries arose from the water near at hand; and he +divined instantly what had happened. The college professor, like the ass +he was, had upset his canoe. + +Varney halted, strode back to the rail. The professor came up +spluttering, blowing quarts of water from his mouth and nose, making +feeble strokes with his ineffective, collegiate arms. + +"Help!" he called in a thin watery voice. "Help! I can't swim." Whereon, +he immediately bobbed under again. + +Of course, there was nothing to do but accede to that request. + +"Lay hold of the canoe," called Varney impatiently, when the poor fellow +reappeared. "I'll send a boat down for you." + +There had been no chance of his drowning: for the overturned canoe was +staunch, and floated, a splendid life-belt, not a foot away from him. At +Varney's word, he seized hold of it feebly, with both hands. The crew +were quick. One or two of them had been watching the madman's antics for +some time, it appeared; and they had a boat down and over to him in no +time. + +Sopping with water, dripping it from his clothes and his hair and his +brown academic beard, a dazed and pitiable-looking object, he came up +the ladder not without nimbleness, and stepped through the gangway upon +the deck. + +Varney took it that his own duties in the matter were now at an end. +"Hold your places," he called to the boat crew. "I shall need you myself +at once." + +Then he turned hurriedly to the man he had rescued, who stood silently +on the deck, wringing cups of water from the skirts of his black cutaway +coat. + +"I'll have them bring you dry clothes," he said swiftly, "and anything +else you need. You'll excuse me? I am compelled to--" + +But at that he stopped dead; for the brown beard of the college +professor suddenly loosened and fell upon the deck. The professor, not +at all discomposed by the extraordinary accident, kicked it carelessly +to one side, and pitching his large hat and goggles after it, faced +Varney with a jovial smile. + +"You don't happen to have a thimble-full of redeye about, do you, Mr. +Varney?" he asked chattily. "I'm Hammerton, of the _Gazette_ and the +_Daily_, you know, and that river down there is _wet_." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +A YELLOW JOURNALIST SECURES A SCOOP BUT FAILS TO GET AWAY WITH IT + +Garbed in a suit of Varney's clothes, warmed beneath his belt by a +libation from the _Cypriani's_ choicest stock, eased as to his person by +a pillow beneath his head and a comfortable rest for his feet, Charlie +Hammerton threw back his head and laughed. + +"I'm not crazy about those grand-stand plays as a rule," he said. +"Because in the first place they're yellow, and in the second place +they're a darned lot of bother. But I just _had_ to see you--I guess you +know why--and I couldn't think of anything else that struck me as really +sure. How'd I do it? Fair imitashe, hey? And I only told one lie, which +is pretty good for a proposition of this sort. I _can_ swim, Mr. Varney. +Like a blooming duck." + +Varney laughed. "You're half an hour too late in telling me that, you +know! But tell me how you managed all this: it was so clever! And do try +one of these cigars." + +They sat at ease on the awninged after-deck, a wicker table between them +convivial with decanters and their recognized appurtenances, like two +old friends met for a happy reunion. The _Gazette's_ star reporter was +as different from one's conception of a dangerous adversary as it is +possible for a man to be. He seemed only a pleasant-faced, friendly boy +of twenty-three or four, with an honest eye and a singularly infectious +laugh. + +"Don't mind if I do--thanks!" said Hammerton, to the proffer of cigars. +"Well, it wasn't so very hard. After you steamed off, and left me gazing +nervously out to sea like a deserted fisher's wife, I--" + +"No, you don't!" laughed Varney. "Begin way back at the beginning. I'm +as ignorant as a baby about all this, you know." + +Hammerton rather liked the idea of lolling on a luxurious yacht and +explaining to the outwitted owner just how he had done it. + +"Well," he said, "it's like this. When you fellows jumped in and +kidnapped Ryan and banged the administration in the eye and slapped the +_Gazette_ some stinging ones on the wrist, of course, we couldn't just +sit still and go quietly on with our knitting. Nay, nay! So we played up +that gossip about you as strong as we could, sort of guessing that it +might hurt your feelings a little. I'm going to be frank with you, you +see! And then another idea came to us that wasn't half bad. You said you +were Mr. Laurence Varney of New York. Well, whether that was true or +not--begging your pardon, of course!--that gave it a New York interest, +don't you see? So Mr. Smith, more by way of a feeler than anything else, +wired it off to the _Daily_--" + +"Why," interrupted Varney, "I thought you were the correspondent of the +_Daily_?" + +"So I am. But this time it was only nominal. He's pretty fond of doing +it himself, Smith is. Well, as soon as I got down this morning, he +called me in and showed me the _Daily_. You've seen it, I suppose? Of +course, we were struck with the way our story had caught on, and +particularly with the postscript about Elbert Carstairs and the mystery +idea. Smith said: 'There appears to be more in this than meets the eye, +Charles. Hustle you down to the _Cypriani_, or ever the birds be flown.' +So I hustled. But then I did a fool thing that nearly gummed the game +entirely. Just at the edge of the woods, I met a boy coming up the hill. + +"Maybe you remember that kid, Mr. Varney--the telegraph boy? He was just +on his way back from the yacht when I ran into him." + +"Come to think of it, I believe I did see that boy hanging around here." + +"As hard a little nut," said Hammerton, "as you ever saw in your life. +When he saw me, he stopped short and asked where I was going. I told him +to the yacht. ''T ain't no use,' he said--I won't try to give his +lingo--'they've gone.' And the little devil actually went on to tell me +how he had overheard the two gentlemen talking--guys he called you--and +how you had decided to return to New York at once, and how he had looked +back from the shore and seen the yacht already steaming away." + +Thus Varney learned that he had one friend in Hunston who was true to +him, according to his poor little lights; and he felt that that kindly +lie of Tommy Orrick's, if it was ever set down against him anywhere, +must be the kind that is blotted out again in tears. + +"Why, I've been good to that kid," said Hammerton, "giving him +cigar-ends nearly every time I see him and that sort of thing. I never +thought he had so much pure _malice_ in him. Well, like a fool, I turned +right around and went back. I felt so pleased about it--for of course +that was just what the _Gazette_ wanted--that I dropped in at the +Ottoman for an eye-opener, and by Jove! it was nearly an hour before I +got back to the office." + +He laughed, at first ruefully, then merrily--for had not everything +turned out in the most satisfactory way in the world? + +"Smith's a beaut," he said, shaking his head reminiscently. "I don't +believe anything ever got away from him since he was big enough to sit +in front of a desk. When I told him that you fellows had gone back to +New York, he never batted an eye. He just pulled a telescope out of the +bottom drawer of his desk and went up to the roof. In two minutes he was +down again. 'Charles,' he said in that quiet biting way of his, 'God may +have put bigger fools than you into this world, but in his great mercy +he has not sent them to retard the work of the _Gazette_. The yacht lies +precisely where she has lain for these two days. Will it be quite +convenient for you to drop down there and have a talk, or do you design +to wait until the gentlemen call at your desk and beg the privilege of +telling you all?'" + +He laughed again, this time without a trace of resentment; and so merry +and spontaneous was this laugh that Varney could not help joining in. + +"I suppose old Smith can tell you to go-to-hell more politely, yet more +thoroughly, than any man that ever lived. I _ran_--and I was just in +time at that, hey? Well, when you fellows steamed off, I kind of +suspected that you weren't going very far. So I got a boy and had him +trail you down the old River road on a wheel. By the time he got back +and told me that I had sized it up about right, I had my plans arranged +and my make-up all ready. That make-up was rather neat, I thought, what? +Meantime, a long wire had come in from the _Daily_ office, which made me +keener than ever to see you. So I hired another wheel, ran on down, +borrowed a canoe from a man I know here, and I guess you know the rest." + +"I should say I did," said Varney. "Ha, ha! I should rather say I did." + +One reason why it was so advantageous to make the boy talk was that it +gave one a chance to think. All the time that he had listened so +pleasantly to this garrulous chatter, Varney had been swiftly planning. +Now he had the situation pretty well analyzed and saw all the ways that +there were. + +He might send the reporter away convinced that there was nothing in this +new theory, after all, that the _Gazette's_ trump card in fighting +Maginnis and Reform was still his own unhappy resemblance to the +outlawed author. Or he might send him off with enough of a new theory to +make him think it unnecessary to go to Mrs. Carstairs or her +daughter--the fatal possibility. Or, if both of these proved +impracticable as they almost certainly would, there was only one course +left: he would not let Hammerton go away at all. + +"But have another little drop or two, won't you? Those dips with your +clothes on aren't a bit good for the health." + +"Well, just a little tickler," said Charlie Hammerton. But he permitted +himself to be helped quite liberally, with no protesting "when." "My +regards, Mr. Varney! Also my compliments and thanks for accepting the +situation like such a genuine game one." + +Varney nodded. "The fortunes of war, Mr. Hammerton. But do go on. You +have no idea how interesting the newspaper game is to an outsider, +particularly--ha, ha!--when it walks right across his own quiet career. +As I understand it, you're on the regular staff of the _Gazette_, and +then are a special correspondent of the _Daily_, besides?" + +Hammerton, cocksure of his game and pleasantly cheered by the potent +draught, thought that he had never interviewed so agreeable a man. + +"That's it exactly. Then, besides, we run a little news-bureau at the +_Gazette_, you know--sell special stuff, whenever there's anything +doing, to papers all over the country. The bureau didn't touch this +story last night--why, I thought it was too 'it-is-understood' and +'rumor-has-it' and all that, to go even with the _Daily_--in your old +own town. It'll be different to-night, all right. We'll query our whole +string on it now--unless," he added with frank despondency, "the darned +old Associated Press decides to pinch it." + +"Query them, Mr. Hammerton?" + +"Yes, wire them a brief, kind of piquant outline of the story, you know, +and ask them if they don't want it. And I sort of guess they'll all want +it, all right!" + +"We'll see about that in a minute," laughed Varney. "There's lots of +time. Tell me about that brilliant young editor of yours, Mr. Smith. The +men in the office all like him and sympathize with his policies, I +suppose?" + +Hammerton laughed, doubtfully. "Well, they all look up to him and +respect him as one of the cleverest newspaper men in the country. +Personally, I like old Smith fine, though nobody ever gets close to him +a bit. He's mighty good to me--lets me write little editorials two or +three times a week, and says I'm not so awful at it. As for sympathizing +with his policies--well, you know I'm not sure Smith sympathizes with +'em much himself. I have a kind of private hunch that he's gotten sore +on his job and would sell out if somebody--well, suppose we say our +friend Ryan--would offer him his price. No, I'm not so keen for these +indirect methods, Mr. Varney. At the same time, it's part of the game, I +suppose, and I always believe in playing a game right out to the end, +for everything there is in it." + +At the unmistakable significance in his tone, Varney looked up and found +the reporter's eyes fixed upon him in an odd gaze which made him look +all at once ten years older and infinitely difficult to baffle: a gaze +which made it plain, in fact, that the wearer of it was not to be put +off with anything short of the whole truth. The next second that look +broke into an easy laugh, and Hammerton was a chattering boy again. + +But Varney's mood rose instantly to meet the antagonism of the +reporter's look, and hung there. He pulled a silver case from his +pocket, selected a cigarette with care and lit it with deliberation. He +had learned everything that he wanted to know; the conversation was +beginning to grow tiresome; and he found the boy's careless +self-confidence increasingly exasperating. + +"But as for undercutting Hare," laughed Hammerton, "I don't like it a--" + +"Tell me this," Varney interrupted coolly. "When the _Gazette_ prepared +its story about me last night, did it believe for one moment that I was +this man Stanhope?" + +"Why, I'm not the _Gazette_, of course," said Hammerton, a little taken +aback by the cool change of both topic and manner, "but my private +suspicion is that it entertained a few doubts on the subject. What do we +think now? Look here, Mr. Varney," the boy said amiably, "you've been +white about this business, and I do really want to show that I +appreciate it." + +He fumbled in the side-pocket of his wet coat, which hung on a near-by +chair, produced a damp paper of the familiar yellow, smoothed it out and +handed it across the table. + +"I guess I won't keep any secrets from you, Mr. Varney." + +Varney, taking the telegram with a nod, read the following: + + _Gazette_, HUNSTON: + + Varney-Stanhope story good stuff, but lacking details, + vague and inaccurate. Stanhope located in Adirondacks, + though not reached. See _Daily_ to-day. Man on yacht + Varney. Apparent secrecy surrounding departure from + here. Interview him sure and secure full statement as + to business which brought him to Hunston. Also interview + Mrs. Elbert Carstairs in Hunston. She separated + from husband years ago. His yacht there with name + erased suggests mystery. Rush fullest details day-rate if + necessary. Pictures made. Expect complete story and + interviews early to-night sure. + S. P. STOKES. + +"Now," said Charlie Hammerton, when Varney looked up, "you see why I +went to such a lot of trouble to get hold of you." + +"Yes," said Varney, slowly, his eye upon him, "I see." + +He folded the telegram, laid it at Hammerton's elbow, got up and stood +with his hands on the back of his chair, looking down. At the thought +that he had ever hoped to call the reporter off, to stop this deadly +machinery of journalism, once it had been started, he could have +laughed. The _Daily_ telegram showed how impossible that had always +been. Now it was suddenly and overwhelmingly plain that to force a +fight on Hammerton, which had been his favorite purpose from the +beginning, even to seize and lock him up, would be of no avail whatever. +Other reporters in endless procession, waited behind him, ready to step +into his place; and the pitiless machinery, in which he, Varney, +happened to be caught at the moment, would go steadily grinding on till +it had crushed out the heart of the hidden truth. + +He saw no way out at all. His mind revolved at fever heat, while he said +calmly: "Go back to your employers, Mr. Hammerton, and report that you +have no story to sell them. Say further that since they knowingly +printed a lying slander about me this morning, you, as an honorable man, +insist upon their making full retractions and apologies to-morrow." + +Hammerton, who had taken his interview as a foregone conclusion, looked +momentarily astounded; but on top of that his manner changed again, to +meet Varney's changed one, in the wink of an eye. + +"You can't mean," he said briskly, ignoring Varney's last remark +entirely, "that you decline to make a statement for our readers?" + +"Why should I encourage your readers to stick their infernal noses into +my business?" + +"For your own sake, Mr. Varney--because everybody has started asking +questions. To refuse to answer them, from your point of view, is the +worst thing you could do. As you know, newspapers always have other +sources of information, and also ways of making intelligent guesses. +While these guesses are usually surprisingly accurate, it sometimes +happens that we work out a theory that is a whole lot worse than the +truth." + +"Of course," said Varney, with sudden absentness. "That's the way you +sell your dirty papers, is n't it?" + +"Mr. Varney, why did you come--?" began Hammerton, but stopped short, +perceiving that the other no longer listened, and quite content to leave +him to a little reflection. + +For Varney, struck by a thought so new that it was overwhelming, had +unexpectedly turned away. He leaned upon the rail and looked out over +the blue, sunny water. A brilliant plan had flashed into his mind--a big +daring plan which, far more than anything else he had thought of, might +be effective and final. Instead of making an enemy of Hammerton, which +could accomplish nothing, it would turn him into a champion, which meant +victory. + +It was a desperate solution, but it was a solution. + +After all, what else remained? To dismiss the boy with nothing would be +to send him straight to the Carstairs house with no one knew what +results. To manhandle him would be simply to start another sleuth on the +trail. But this plan, if it worked, would avoid that, and every other, +risk of trouble. And if it failed, he would be no worse off than he was +now; for in that case he would not allow Hammerton to go back to the +_Gazette_ at all that day. + +He dropped his cigarette over the side, turned and found the eye of the +press firmly fastened upon him. + +"Mr. Varney," said Hammerton, with swift acuteness, "maybe I'm not as +bad a fellow as you think. Why can't you trust me with this story--of +what brought you to Hunston, and what made you run away this morning and +hide? If it's really something that newspapers haven't got anything to +do with, I'll go straight back to the office and make them leave you +alone. Oh, I have enough influence to do it, all right! And if it's +something different and--well, a little unusual, I'll promise to put you +in the best light possible. Why don't you trust me with it?" + +"Well," said Varney with a stormy smile, "suppose I do, then!" + +"Good!" cried Hammerton cordially, observing him, however, with some +intentness. "Honestly, it's the very best thing you could do." + +Varney rested upon the back of his chair again and stood staring down at +the reporter for some time in silence. + +"Mr. Hammerton," he began presently, "I know that the great majority of +newspaper men are fair and honorable and absolutely trustworthy. I know +that it is a part of their capital to be able to keep a secret as well +as to print one. For this reason, I have upon reflection decided to +confide--certain facts to you, feeling sure that they will never go any +further--" + +"Of course, Mr. Varney," the reporter interrupted, "you understand that +I can't make any promises in advance." + +"Let the risk be mine," said Varney. "I am certain that when you have +heard what I have to tell you, you will report to your papers that my +'mysterious errand' turns out to be simply a matter of personal and +private business, with which the public has no concern, and whose +publication at this time would hopelessly ruin it. Mr. Hammerton, I came +to Hunston to see Miss Mary Carstairs." + +A gleam came into Hammerton's eye. Varney, watching that observant +feature, knew that no detail of his story, or of his manner in telling +it, would escape a most critical scrutiny. + +"The fewer particulars the better," he said grimly. "I shall tell the +substance because that seems now, after all, the best way to protect the +interests of those concerned. Mr. Hammerton, as the _Daily_ told you, +Mr. Carstairs and his wife have separated, though they are still on +friendly terms with each other. Their only child remains with the +mother. Mr. Carstairs is getting old. He is naturally an affectionate +man, and he is very lonely. In short, he has become most anxious to have +his daughter spend part of her time with him. Mrs. Carstairs entirely +approves of this. The daughter, however, absolutely refuses to leave her +mother, feeling, it appears, that nothing is due her father from her. +Arguments are useless. Well, what is to be done? Mr. Carstairs, because +his great need of his daughter grows upon him, conceives an unusual +plan. He will send an ambassador to Hunston--unaccredited, of course, a +man, young, not married, who--don't think me a coxcomb--but who might +be able to arouse the daughter's interest. This ambassador is to go on +Mr. Carstairs's own yacht, the name, of course, being erased, so that +the daughter may not recognize it. He is to meet the young lady, +cultivate her, make friends with her--all without letting her dream that +he comes from her father, for that would ruin everything. And, then--" + +He broke off, paused, considered. In Hammerton's eye he saw a light +which meant sympathy, kindly consideration, human interest. He knew that +the battle was half won. He had only to say: "And then talk to her about +her poor old father, who loves her, and who is growing old in a big +house all by himself; and tell her how he needs her so sorely that old +grudges ought to be forgotten; and ask her, in the name of common +kindness, to come down and pay him a visit before it is too late." He +had only to say that, and he knew, for he read it in Hammerton's whole +softened expression, that the boy would go away with his lips locked. + +But he couldn't say that, the reason being that it was not true. + +"And then," he said, with a truthfulness so bold that he was sure the +reporter would not follow it, "and then--don't you see? he is to try to +_make_ her go down to New York and pay a visit to that lonely old father +who needs her so badly. Since she is so obstinate about it, he must find +some way to _make_ her go before it is too late. _Now_ do you +understand, Mr. Hammerton? _Now_ do you perceive why the thought of +having all this pitiful story scareheaded in a penny paper is +insufferable to me?" + +He towered above Hammerton, crisp words falling like leaden bullets, +stern, insistent, determined to be believed. But he saw a look dawn on +the younger man's face which made him instantly fear that he had told +too much. + +And then suddenly Hammerton sprang to his feet, keen eyes shot with +light, ruddy cheek paled a little with excitement, fronting Varney in +startled triumph over the drinks they had shared. + +"Make her!" he blurted in a high shrill voice. "Mr. Varney, _you came up +here to kidnap her!_" + +The two men stared at each other in a moment of horrified silence. +Something in the reporter's air of victory, in the kind of thrilling joy +with which he pounced upon the carefully guarded little secret and +dragged it out into the light, made him all at once loathsome in +Varney's eyes, a creature unspeakably repellent. + +Suddenly he leaned across the little table and struck Hammerton lightly +across the mouth with the back of his hand. + +"You cad," he said whitely. + +But Hammerton, never to be stopped by details now, ignored both the +insult and the blow. He was on the rail like a cat, ready to swim for +it, hot to take his great scoop to Mrs. Carstairs, to Coligny Smith, to +readers of newspapers all over the land. + +The table was between them, and it went over with a crash. Quick as he +was, Varney was barely in time. His hand fell upon the reporter's coat +when another fraction of a second would have been too late. Then he +flung backward with a wrench, and Hammerton came toppling heavily to the +deck. + +Smarting with the pain of the fall, hot with anger at last, the +reporter was up in an instant, spitting blood, and they clenched with +the swiftness of lightning. Then they broke away, violently, and went at +it in grim earnest. + +It was the fight of a lifetime for each of them and they were splendidly +matched. Hammerton was two inches the shorter, but he had twenty pounds +of solid weight to offset that; and in close work, especially, his +execution was polished. They had it up and down the deck, hammer and +tongs, swinging, landing, rushing, sidestepping. At the first crash of +broken glass on the deck, the crew had begun to appear, unobtrusively +from all directions. Now cabin-hatch, galley-hatch, deck-house, every +coign of vantage along the battlefield held its silent cluster of +wondering figures. But McTosh, familiar old family retainer, slipped +nearer at the first opportunity and whispered, in just that eager tone +with which he pressed a side-dish upon one's notice: + +"Can't I give you a little help, sir?" + +"Keep away, steward," said Varney, between clenched teeth, "or you'll +get hurt." + +Saying which, he received a savage blow on the point of the chin and +struck the deck with a thud. + +"Oh, my Gawd, sir!" breathed McTosh. + +But his young master was on his feet like a tiger, in a whirl of crazy +passion. He had resolved all along that Hammerton would have to kill him +before he should get away with that secret. Now it came to him like a +divine revelation that the way to avoid this was to kill Hammerton. To +that pleasant end, he goaded his adversary with a light blow, +side-stepped his rush, uppercutted and the reporter went down, almost +head first, and cruelly hard. + +He came up dazed, game but very wild, and Varney got another chance +promptly, which was just as well. Hammerton went down again, head on +once more, and this time he did not come up at all. + +The crew, unable to repress themselves, let out a cheer, and came +crowding on the deck. But Varney, standing over Hammerton's limp body, +waved them back impatiently. + +"Hold your noise!" he ordered. "And stand back! I'm attending to this +job!" + +He picked Hammerton up in his arms, staggered with him to his own +stateroom, and laid him down on the bunk. The boy did not stir, gave no +visible sign of life. But when Varney put his hand over the other's +heart, he found it beating away quite firmly. His breathing and pulse +were regular--everything was quite as it should be. He would come round +in half an hour, and be as good a man as ever. And he would have a long, +idle time to rest, and look after his bruises and get back his strength +again. + +Varney took the key from the door, put it in outside, turned it and came +on deck again. The crew had vanished to their several haunts. Two +deck-hands in blouses and red caps had just completed the rehabilitation +of the deck, and at sight of him discreetly vanished forward. + +"Ferguson," called Varney, "a word with you, please." + +The grizzled sailing-master came quickly, obviously curious for an +explanation of these strange matters. + +Rapidly Varney explained to him that the incarcerated man was a reporter +who thought that he had got hold of a scandalous story about Mr. +Carstairs, and was most anxious to get ashore so that he could publish +this scandal all over the country. + +"I am obliged to go to town immediately," he continued. "Rumors of this +ugly story have already been started, and I must do everything I can to +nail them. I am going to trust the responsibility here to you. As soon +as I leave the yacht, I want you to start her down the river. That is to +get the gentleman and the yacht out of the way. Go straight ahead for +two or three hours and then come back. Make your calculations so that +you'll get back here at--say ten o'clock to-night--here, mind you, not +the old anchorage. I'll be ready to come aboard by that time. Have two +men guard that stateroom constantly every minute. Give the gentleman +every possible attention, but don't let him make any noise, and don't +let him get out. No matter what he says or does, _don't let him get +out_. Do you follow me?" + +"I do, sir. To the menootest detail." + +"If you carry the matter through, you may rely upon Mr. Carstairs's +gratitude. If, on the other hand, you fail--" + +"Oh, I'll not fail, sir. Have no fear of that." + +"I am speaking to you man to man, Ferguson, when I say, for God's sake +don't." + +He walked away to arrange himself a little for the town, seeing clearly +that there was but one possible way out of all this for him now. The +sailing-master stared after him with a very curious expression upon his +weather-beaten face. + +At about the same moment, in a tiny room four miles away, an elderly, +melancholy man sat bowed over a telegraph board and drowsily plied his +keys. He was the _Gazette's_ special operator, and, having his orders +from Mr. Parker, who looked after the news bureau when Hammerton was +away, he was methodically going through his list like this: + +_Tribune_, PITTSBURG: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery surrounding +prominent men, one of whom now hiding here. Probable scandal, one +thousand words. + +_Press_, CINCINNATI: + +Ferris Stanhope or Laurence Varney? Baffling mystery-- + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +VARNEY MEETS HIS ENEMY AND IS DISARMED + +Varney crossed the square in the gathering dusk and went slowly up Main +Street, looking about him as he walked. He had wrenched his ankle +slightly in one of his falls upon the _Cypriani's_ deck, and the +four-mile walk over the ruts of the River road to the town had done it +no good. Worse yet, it had made the trip down from the yacht laboriously +slow, and he was harried with the fear that the irreparable damage might +already have been done. + +If it had not, if no reporter had yet gone to the Carstairs house, his +one possible hope of escape stood before him like a palm-tree in a +plain. Stiffened and strengthened by all his difficulties, his resolve +to win throbbed and mounted within him; but he faced the knowledge that +the odds now were heavily against him. On the long chance, he had played +a desperate game, had come within an ace of winning, and had lost. His +great secret which, beyond any other purpose, he had meant to guard to +the end, was glaringly out. Now it was the iron heart of his will that +it should go no further. Talkative young Hammerton had given him the +hint how that might be accomplished; and if the method was extreme, it +would be sure. Whatever the cost, it would be a small price to pay for +keeping his name, and Uncle Elbert's, out of ruinous headlines in +to-morrow's papers. + +Two blocks further on he came opposite a neat, three-story brick +building, across the width of which was a black and gold signboard, +lettered THE GAZETTE. Below it was the large plate-glass window of a +counting-room, now dark. On the left was a lighted doorway, leading +upstairs. + +Varney crossed, climbed the stairs, found himself in a narrow upstairs +hall, rapped upon a closed ground-glass door bearing the legend +"Editorial." From within, a voice of unenthusiasm bade him enter, and he +went in, closing the door behind him. + +In a swivel-chair by an open roller-top desk, a young man sat, idly +smoking a cigarette, his back to the door, his languorous feet hung out +of the window. There were electric lights in the room, but they were not +lit. All the illumination that there was came from a single dingy +gas-fixture stuck in the wall near the desk, but that was enough. + +Varney came closer. "Smith," said he. + +"Well," said Smith. + +"I have come to see you." + +"Well--look away," said Smith. + +There was not a trace of the "Hast thou found me?" in the editor's voice +or his manner. If he expected assassination, he did not appear to mind. +He sat on without turning, staring apathetically out of the window, just +as he had done when he watched Varney cross and come in at his door. + +"I have come," said Varney, "because I understand that you are the sole +owner, as well as the editor, of this paper. Am I right?" + +Smith lit a fresh cigarette, flipped the old one out of the window and +paused to watch the boys outside fight for it. Half-smoked stubs came +frequently out of that window when Mr. Smith sat there and many boys in +Hunston knew it. + +"Assuming that you are?" queried he. + +"Assuming that," said Varney, "I'll say that I have come to buy this +paper. And to discharge you from the editorship." + +Smith drew in his feet, and swung slowly around. The two men measured +each other in an interval of intelligent silence. On the whole, upon +this close view, Varney found it harder to think of Smith as a +contemptible cur who circulated lying slanders for profit than as the +young man who wrote the famous editorials. + +"And still they come," said Smith, enigmatically. "Three of them in one +day--well, well!" And he added musingly: "So I have stung you as hard as +that, have I?" + +"Let us say rather," said Varney, whose present tack was diplomacy, +"that I have some loose money which I want to stow away in a paying +little enterprise." + +"I am the last man in the world to boast of a kindness," continued +Smith, in his faintly mocking manner, "but I gave you fair warning to +leave town." + +"Instead I stayed. And an exceedingly interesting town I have found it. +Something doing every minute. But, as I just remarked, I have looked in +to buy your paper." + +"If I were like some I know," meditated Smith, "I'd be thinking: 'The +Lord has delivered him into my hand, aye, delivered dear old Beany.' I'd +embarrass you with questions, make you blush with catechisms. But I am a +merciful man, and observe that I ask you nothing. You want to buy the +_Gazette_ for an investment. Let it stand at that. So you're the +money-grubbing sort that supposes that everything on God's hassock has +its price?" + +"I believe it's street knowledge that the _Gazette_ has its. But I +called really not so much to discuss ethics, as to ascertain your +figure." + +Smith gave a sigh which was not without its trace of mockery. +"'Fortunately, I am hardened to insults. Editors are expected to stand +anything. Times are dull--nothing much to do--drop around and kick the +editor. You've no idea what we have to put up with from spring poets +alone. Rejoice, B----, that is, Mr.--er--Blank, that the _Gazette_ is +never to be yours." + +"You can't mean that you decline to sell?" + +"When I implied to you just now that I was sole owner of the _Gazette_, +I was, of course, speaking rather reminiscently than in the strict light +of present facts." + +"What do you mean by that?" + +"That I sold the _Gazette_ at four o'clock this afternoon." + +For an instant the room whirled and Varney saw nothing in it but the odd +eyes of Coligny Smith steadily fixing him. By the shock of that blow, he +realized that, after all, he had wholly counted upon succeeding in +this. From the moment when he had turned his stateroom key on +unconscious Charlie Hammerton, he had recognized it as his one chance. +And now he was too late. Clever Ryan, who missed nothing, doubtless +suspecting that the faithless editor who had sold out once to him might +now be planning to do it again to a higher bidder, had outstripped him. +And the _Gazette_ to-morrow would damn him utterly. + +But Varney's face, as these thoughts came to him, wore a faint, +non-committal smile. "That is final, I suppose?" + +"As death, so far as I am concerned. I leave Hunston permanently +to-morrow morning." + +"Who was the buyer?" + +"There is really no reason why I should divulge his confidence that I +know of; but, curses on me, I'll do it if you'll tell me this: Where is +Charles Hammerton?" + +Varney laid his hat and stick on the table, to rid his hands of them, +and faced Mr. Smith, leaning lightly against it. + +"I came here, Smith, to ask questions, not to answer them. On second +thoughts, I withdraw my last one, for I can guess the answer. But before +we proceed further, I want you to tell me this: what made you sell?" + +The editor pitched another cigarette-end out of the window. Again a +shout from the street indicated that it had become a bone of bitter +contest among the town's smokers of the _sub-rosa_ class. + +"Suppose I were to tell you," said Smith slowly, "that I anticipate a +shakeup here which will cut the backbone out of my profits? What would +you say to that?" + +"I suppose I should say that it was ever the custom of rats to desert a +sinking ship. So that was your mainspring, was it?" + +"On the contrary," said Smith. "I am taking what is technically known as +a small rise out of you. You ask why I sold. It was a man with the +price. Money," began Mr. Smith, "screams. The cash on my desk was this +man's way of doing business, and a good deal it was. However, it'll net +him six per cent year in and out, at that--a good rate in these lean +times. I, of course, did better. I got--shall we say?--pickings. The +past tense already, heigho! Well, it's been a most instructive life. My +father taught me to write. He was esteemed a good editor, and he was, +but at eighteen I was correcting his leaders for him. Hand Greeley a +soft pencil and a pass at the encyclopedia, so he used to say, and he +could prove anything under the sun. I am like that, except that--well, I +don't believe I need the encyclopedia. It wasn't Greeley who made the +remark, of course. It's a rule on the press to pin all journalistic +anecdotes on Greeley. You sign the pledge when you go in. To be +accounted strictly moral," continued Smith, "an editor must be blind in +one eye and astigmatic in the other. Then he rings the bull's-eye of +Virtue ten times out of ten, and the clergy bleats with delight. You +can't find spiritual candor anywhere with a telescope, except in the +criminal classes. There are no Pharisees there, God be praised! For my +part, I see both sides of every question that was ever asked, and +usually--don't you think?--both of them are right. I first adopt my +point of view and subsequently prove it. Obviously, this is where the +pickings come in. My grandfather started this paper on two hundred and +fifty dollars, fifty dollars of which, I have heard, was his own. I +could knock off for life as an idle member of the predatory classes, I +suppose, but after all, I was made for an editor. In years past, I have, +of course, had my offers from New York. Two of them were left open +forever, and a little while ago, I telegraphed down and took the best. A +grateful wire came in five minutes ahead of you. And that," he concluded +wearily, in the flattest tones of a curiously flat voice, "is the life +story of C. Smith, editor, up to the hour of going to press." + +Varney, who had never once been tempted to interrupt this strange +apologia, struggled with an impulse to feel desperately sorry for Mr. +Smith, and almost overcame it. + +"Smith," he said, in a moment, "why don't you tell me why you sold?" + +The editor got up and stared out of the window. Presently he turned, an +odd faint flush tingeing his ordinarily colorless cheek. His air of +smooth cynicism was gone, for once; and Varney saw then, as he had +somehow suspected before, that the editor of the _Gazette_ wore polished +bravado as a cloak and that underneath it he carried a rather troubled +soul. + +"You are right," said Smith, "I--was twigging you again. Let us say," +he added, looking at Varney with a kind of shamefaced defiance, "that a +man gets tired of living on pickings after a while." + +If he had been ten times a liar, ten times a slanderer and assassin of +character, a man would have known that the young editor spoke the truth +then. That knowledge disarmed Varney. To have sold the _Gazette_ to one +who would prostitute it still further was hardly a noble act; but for +Smith it meant unmistakably that he wanted to cut loose from the old +evil walks where he had done ill by his honor and battened exceedingly. + +"All along," said Varney slowly, "I have had a kind of sneaking feeling +that there was a spark left in you yet." + +He picked up his hat and stick again, and faced the pale young editor. + +"Smith, you have done me a devilish wrong. You have knowingly printed a +vile slander about me, aware that the natural result of your falsehood +was that some poor drunken fool would shoot me down from behind. When I +walked in here five minutes ago, I had two purposes in mind. One was to +buy your paper. The other was to throw you down the front stairs. I am +leaving now without doing either. I abandoned the first because I had +to; I abandon the second, voluntarily, because--I don't quite know +why--but I think it is because it seems inappropriate to hit a man when +he is down and something is just driving him to try to scramble up." + +He put on his hat and started to go; but Smith stopped him with a +gesture. He let his eye, from which all sign of emotion had faded, run +slowly over Varney's slender figure. + +"I wasn't such a slouch in my younger days," he said. "Football at my +prep school, football and crew at my college. Boxed some at odd moments; +was counted fair to middling. Some offhand practice since with people +I've roasted--agents, actors, and the like. As to that throwing +downstairs proposition now, if you'd care to try it on--" + +Varney shook his head. "I don't know that I can explain it--and no one +regrets it more than I--but all the wish to _smash_ you, Smith, has gone +away somewhere. The bottom has dropped out of it. Good-bye." + +"You are going? So am I," said Smith, with a fair imitation of his usual +lightness. "Going away for good. I hope you will come through this all +right. I'll never see you again. Shake hands, will you? You couldn't +know it, of course, but--it--is possible that I owe something to--you +two fellows." + +He stood motionless, half turned away, thin hands hanging loosely at his +sides. + +Varney, who had colored slightly, took a last look at him. "No," he +said, suddenly much embarrassed, "I--I'm afraid I couldn't do it in the +way you mean, and so there wouldn't be any point in it. But I--I do wish +you luck with all my heart." + +He shut the door, and started down the stairway; and he straightway +forgot Smith in the returning tide of his own difficulties. He saw +clearly that there was no longer any hope; his plans were wrecked past +mending. Persuading Miss Carstairs to keep her engagement to-morrow, his +one great problem this morning, had become an unimportant detail now. +Charlie Hammerton, with his merciless knowledge, filled the whole +horizon like a menacing mirage. + +It would not be enough to close the boy's month till after the luncheon +and then let it open to babble. For Elbert Carstairs had flatly drawn +the line at a yellow aftermath of sensation. He would count a tall-typed +scandal the day after to-morrow, when his daughter was with him, fully +as bad as the same affliction now. And, the newspaper finally lost to +them, there was no conceivable way in which that scandal could be +averted now. + +But about the moment when his foot hit the bottom of the worn stairs, +the door at the head of them burst open, and a curiously stirred voice, +which he had some difficulty in recognizing as Smith's, called his name. + +"Varney! oh, Varney! I--really meant to tell you--and then I forgot." + +He turned and saw the editor's pale face hanging over the banisters. + +"It was Maginnis I sold the _Gazette_ to, you know--Peter Maginnis. I +wouldn't have sold it to anybody else. You'll find him at the hotel +eating supper." + +Varney, looking at him, knew then what it was that Smith thought he owed +to him and Maginnis. + +He went back up the stairs and the two men shook hands in rather an +agitated silence. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +CONFERENCE BETWEEN MR. HACKLEY, THE DOG MAN, AND MR. RYAN, THE BOSS + +At half past six o'clock, or thereabouts, James Hackley dragged slowly +up Main Street. He was garbed in his working suit of denim blue, trimmed +with monkey wrench and chisel, and he wore, further, an air of +exaggerated fatigue. A rounded protuberance upon his cheek indicated +that the exhilaration of the quid was not wanting to his inner man, but +the solace he drew from it appeared pitifully trifling. Now and then he +would pause, rest his person against a lamp-post, or the front of some +emporium, and shake his head despondently, like one most fearful of the +consequences of certain matters. + +Since four o'clock that afternoon, in fact, Mr. Hackley had been out +upon a reluctant stint of lawn-mowing, reluctant because he hated all +work with a Titanic hatred and sedulously cultivated the conviction that +his was a delicate health. In view of the magnificent windfall in +connection with the killing of his dog, it had not been his design to +accept any more retainers for a long time to come. That occurrence had +lifted him, as by the ears, from the proletariat into the capitalistic +leisure class; and the map of the world had become but the portrait of +his oyster. + +But at noon as he lolled upon his rear veranda, chatting kindly with +his wife as she hung the linen of quality upon her drying lines, a lady +had knocked upon his door, beautiful and insistent, to wheedle his will +from him. It was only a tiny bit of a lawn, she had reiterated +imploringly, hardly a constitutional to cut, and there was not one tall +fellow in all Hunston whom she would permit to touch it but Hackley. +Dead to all flattery as he was, his backbone ran to water at the +clinging beauty of her smile, and so incredibly betrayed him into +yielding. And now, at hard upon half after six o'clock, post-meridian, +the dangerous dews of night already beginning to fall, he leaned against +a lamp-post, a physical wreck, with a long block and a half still +separating him from the comforts of home. + +At the next corner but one above rose the red brick Ottoman, its +inviting side stretching for many yards down the street towards him. +Windows cut it here and there along its length, and over their green +silk half-curtains, poured forth a golden light which was hospitality +made visible. Yet, so strange are the ways of life, the proprietor of +all these luxuries, who stood at the furthest window, beyond Hackley's +range, did not look happy in their possession. His eyes gleamed +fiercely; his heavy chin protruded savagely, as though deliberately +insulting Main Street and the northward universe. Even his small derby, +which he seldom doffed save at the hour for taps, contrived to bespeak a +certain ferocity. + +The Ottoman bar was bare of customers, all Hunston now verging towards +its evening meal. Ryan rested his elbow upon its polished surface, and +glared into the twilight. He was, as luck had it, in a terrible +ill-humor. For he knew himself to-day for a man who had been physically +flouted, a boss whose supremacy had been violently assailed, a king who +felt his throne careen sickeningly beneath him. + +Last night, when four men whom he had never seen before, three of them +masked, had borne him off on a long wild drive, and dropped him at ten +o'clock in a lonely bit of country eight miles from the Academy Theatre, +there had at least been action to give point to his choler. All but out +of his mind with passion, he had besought them all, singly or quadruply, +to descend from their carriage and meet him in combat, thirsting sorely +to kill or be killed. But they had only laughed at him, silently, and +galloped away, leaving him screaming out futile curses on the empty +night air. + +Two hours later, when he had got back to Hunston, after an interminable +nightmare of running over rough ground with unaccustomed limbs, and +stumbling heavily to earth, and rising up to struggle again, he had +learned to what uses his enemies had put that absence. Smith had related +the story in the fastness of his office, and in wholly different guise +from that which it wore next morning in the columns of his newspaper. +And Ryan, listening, had slowly calmed, calmed to the still fury of +implacable hate. + +But he and Smith had quarreled violently. He was for publishing the +story of his taking off in type as black as the dastardly act. Smith had +a difficult time in holding him down, however much he pointed out that +Ryan had no shadow of proof against his new adversary on the yacht, and +that public sympathy in an affair of this sort was always with the +successful. In the end Smith had carried his point, because he was, of +those two men, both the more wise and the more resolute. But this +morning they had conferred again and quarreled even more bitterly. + +Yet Ryan, plotting in the window of his splendid gin-palace, his eye +always sweeping the evening street as though a-search, was not thinking +of the young editor now. Two other policies for the days to come +monopolized his attention. One of these was crushing victory at the +polls. The other was revenge. Probably in thinking of these, he put them +at the moment in reverse order. + +"Damn him!" he suddenly exploded: and it was not little Hare that he +cursed. "Damn his soul!" + +In the next breath, the boss suddenly ducked, and disappeared from the +half-curtained window altogether. A moment later, he appeared outside +his swinging door, yawning and stretching himself, as one who, wearied +with the tedium of life indoors, would see what beguilement might await +him abroad. + +The boss looked first up the street and permitted his beady eye to range +casually over the view. Then his gaze came slowly down and rested in +time upon the person of James Hackley, now almost directly opposite. The +boss's countenance lit up with a smile of pleased surprise. + +"Why, hello, Jim!" he called out. "Where you been hidin' yourself +lately? Ain't seen you for a week o' Sundays. Come across and pass the +time of day!" + +Mr. Hackley, who had been debating whether or not he should pause for +inspiration at the Ottoman, and had just virtuously declared for the +negative, shambled over. + +Ryan eyed him sympathetically. "You look kind o' played out, Jim. What +you been doin' with yourself? Come in and take a drop of somethin' to +hearten you up some. On the house." + +"Well," said Mr. Hackley, unable to resist the novel fascination of +liquoring gratis, "just a weeny mite for to cut the dust out o' my +windpipe." + +Ryan went behind the bar and served them himself, selecting with care a +bottle which he described as the primest stuff in the house. From this +he poured Hackley a remarkably stiff potation, slightly wetting the +bottom of his own glass the while. The bottle he left standing ready on +the bar. + +"Here's how, friend Jim!" + +Whatever Mr. Hackley's foibles, he was a man at his cups. His platform +was the straight article uncontaminated by ice or flabby +sparkling-water; and chasers and the like of those he left to +schoolboys. + +"Ain't took a drink for days," he said, holding up his glass to the +electric light and squinting through it. "Cut it out religious, I have. +Been settin' around the house, an' settin', under physic'an's orders, +tryin' fer to get my health back so's I could go to moldin' agin. But +Lordamussy, what's the use of torkin'! I ain't no more fitten fer work +than a noo-born baby. Well, here's luck, Ryan!" + +He set his glass down and involuntarily smacked his lips. The fiery +liquid percolated through him down to his very toes. He felt better at +once, more ambitious, less conscious of his constitution. And +simultaneously, he lost something of that indolent good-nature which was +the badge of all his sober hours. + +Ryan regarded him with friendly anxiety. "You gotter be more careful +with yourself, honest! Here--strengthen your holt a little. One little +swallow ain't no help to a man as beat out as you are." + +"As yer like, Dennis," said Mr. Hackley, listlessly. "What I reely need +is a good long rest, like in a 'orspittle." + +Kindly Mr. Ryan filled the small glass almost to the brim; and Hackley, +though he had modestly stipulated for "on'y a drap" tossed it all off +thirstily at a single practised toss. + +"That'll fix you up nice. But ain't I glad," said his host with a sly +chuckle, "that nobody sees you taking these drinks on the quiet, which +_we_ know you need bad for your health." + +Mr. Hackley set down his glass again, this time with something of a +bang. "How's that?" he demanded suspiciously. + +Ryan laughed deprecatingly. While doing so, he manipulated the tall dark +bottle again. + +"Shuh!" said he. "It's only the boys' fun, of course. Don't you mind +_them_, Jim." + +"What're you drivin' at?" asked Hackley, bristling a bit. "If you got +anything worth sayin' to me, spit it out plain, I say." + +"Well," laughed Ryan, "if some of the boys was to see you in here +putting away a harmless drink or so, o' course they'd say that you was +gettin' up your Dutch courage. He, he!" + +"Dutch courage!" cried Mr. Hackley, indignantly. "An' wot the hell fer?" + +"Sh! Not so loud, Jim. Why, it's only their little joke, o' course. +They'd say you was gettin' up your nerve to meet them two friends of +yours from New York! Hey? He, he!" + +"Wot friends?" asked Hackley again, hotly. + +Ryan observed the mounting color on the other's cheek and brow, and his +eye, which was like a small, glossy shoe-button, gleamed. + +"Why, that 'un that killed that dog o' yours, and put you to sleep +before the crowd, and that 'un that sent Mamie Orrick to Gawd knows +where. But shucks! Drop it, Jim. I wouldn't have allooded to it, on'y I +thought you'd see the fun of the thing." + +It takes a philosopher to perceive humor in taunts at his own personal +courage, and Mr. Hackley, with three drinks of the Ottoman's choicest +beneath his tattered waistcoat, was not that kind of man at all. + +He leaned forward against the bar with a belligerence suggesting that he +wished to push it over, pinning his pleasant-spoken host to the wall, +and pounded the top of it till the glasses tingled. + +"Fill her up with the same!" he ordered loudly, looking suddenly, and +for the first time, very much like the rough-looking customer who had +tackled Peter Maginnis in defense of his dog. "An' I'll have you know, +_Mister_ Ryan--I'll have you know, my fine, big, bouncin' buck, that Jim +Hackley ain't afeared of anythink that walks." + +Ryan filled her up again, though this time more conservatively. He was a +keen man and an excellent judge of what was enough. + +"Shuh! Don't _I_ know that, Jim! Why, after that big bloke licked the +stuffin' out of you the other night, the boys said: 'Well, that's the +last o' that little differculty! Jim Hackley'll never foller that up +none,' they says. And what'd I say?" + +"Well, what'd you say?" + +"I says, 'Hell!' I says. 'You boys don't _know_ Jim Hackley!'" + +"I'll interdooce myself to 'em!" said Hackley savagely. "And whoever +says that Maginnis licked me's a liar. You hear me? Tripped my toe on a +rock, I did, and banged all the sense outen my head--" + +"I understand, Jim," interrupted Ryan suavely. "Just what I told the +boys. O' course, just between you an me, I have been kinder took by +surprise that you've waited so long to get your evens. Why, this morning +when the piece came out in the _Gazette_, tellin' the whole town that +the feller's side-partner was that yellow cur-dog Stanhope, I says to +the boys, first thing: 'Boys, we gotter watch Jim Hackley mighty careful +to-day,' says I. 'I'm afeard there'll be gun-play before sunset.' +'Gun-play!' says they. 'F'om Hackley! Hell,' says they. 'You boys,' says +I, 'don't know old Jim like I do!' And then o' course,--he, he!--as the +whole day slipped by and nothin' doin' at all--why, o' course, I won't +deny that they ain't been jollyin' me some." + +Hackley leaned far over the bar, and shook his fist in the boss's face. +"I ain't a man," he shouted, "to be pushed an' a-nagged at in a deal +like this. I takes my time, I makes my plans, I decides on the ways I'll +do it. Do yer pipe to that? An' now I've got ever'think fixed and I'm +ready. Do yer see!" + +The boss, who had retreated a step before that menacing fist, glanced +out of the window and instantly started, this time with an amazement +that was genuine. + +"Why, blast my eyes," he cried, raising a pudgy arm, "if there ain't +that dog Stanhope now!" + +Hackley, following the pointing finger, peered over the green silk +curtain out into the darkening street. A young man, tall and rather +thin, in a blue suit and wide gray-felt hat, was walking slowly and with +a slight limp up the cross street, evidently heading for the Palace +Hotel. + +The two men watched him intently, in a moment of perfect silence. Then +the boss, who was not without a certain dramatic sense, said slowly: + +"_Mamie Orrick's old friend_!" + +A baleful light leaped into Hackley's eyes. He broke away from the bar +with a movement that was like a wrench, and started for the door. + +"I'll fix him," he muttered dourly. "Fix him _good_." + +But Ryan, who wanted something much better than that, sprang around the +bar like lightning, and caught Hackley roughly by the shoulder, at the +door. + +"What, here in the square!" he hissed sharply. "With the po-lice in +sight a'most! Why, you fool, it'll mean the pen for you as sure as your +name's Jim Hackley!" + +Hackley paused, his resolution unsettled by the other's superior +knowledge of the law. + +"No, no, Jim--it won't do," went on Ryan with bland decisiveness. "What +you want is the two of them together, hey?--on a nice dark stretch o' +road, and old Orrick and a few good fellows along to help. You ain't the +only one that's got it in for Stanhope, are you? An' you want Maginnis +too, I guess? Come on in the orfice and talk about it over a seegar." + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +IN WHICH VARNEY DOES NOT PAY A VISIT, BUT RECEIVES ONE + +Coligny Smith had told the truth. Peter Maginnis had bought the +_Gazette_, and the _Cyprianl's_ troubles, from this source at any rate, +were at an end. + +Varney found the new proprietor at the hotel, completing a hurried +supper, and Peter hailed him with astonishment and delight. All +afternoon he had been bursting with his great news, eager to get word of +it to Varney on the yacht. But there had been no trustworthy messenger +to send; his own time had been rilled to overflowing, with contracts, +bills of sale and deeds; and, besides, his certain knowledge that +everything was all right made it seem a minor matter that Varney should +know it too. + +"But what the deuce," he exclaimed at once, "brings you at this hour to +the Palace Hotel and Restaurant?" + +"I, too," quoted Varney, "have not been idle." + +As they walked back to the _Gazette_ building, where Peter had still +various details to attend to, he gave a terse epitome of his afternoon's +experiences. At the news that he, too, had sought to buy the paper which +was so determinedly on their trail, Peter chuckled and started to speak; +but when he learned in the next sentence that Hammerton had their +secret at his mercy, his face grew suddenly grave. + +"The rub is," he summed up meditatively, "he may take his walking-papers +rather than let go of such a scoop as that. Of course, he knows that the +New York papers would trample each other to death trying to snatch it +away from him. However, we can fix it somehow. We've got to--that's +all." + +"He'll listen to reason, I dare say," said Varney briefly. "What put it +into your head to try to buy the paper, Peter?" + +They sat in the business manager's little office at the rear of the long +counting-room downstairs, where Peter had thoughtfully paused and +snapped on all the lights. At this question an annoyed look settled +instantly on the new owner's open countenance. + +"No brains of mine," he said shortly. "It's a queer thing." + +He paused to light his battered pipe, which he produced ready-filled +from his pocket, and then said abruptly: + +"Remember that old sneak named Higginson I mentioned to you yesterday? +Well, I bagged the idea from him. When I hit town this afternoon the +first thing I heard was that Higginson was going to buy the +_Gazette_--had bought it, some said." + +"_Higginson!_" Varney stared. "What the mischief did he want with the +_Gazette?_" + +"Echo answers. No good to us, you can bet," said Peter grimly. "Gave it +out, I believe, that he was acting for a syndicate of New Yorkers who +expected flush times with the change of administration, and were +rushing to get in on the ground floor. You can believe that if you want +to. To me it sounds too fishy to do even a beginner credit. You could +wake me up in the middle of the night and I could put over a better one +than that. However," he continued, frowning, "to get back to my story. +When I heard what Higginson was up to, it naturally flashed into my mind +that it would be a mighty convenient thing if I owned the _Gazette_ +myself, instead of him. I raced off to Smith on the chance, shot an +offer at him from the door and to my surprise he accepted it--right off +the bat, cool as though the deal were for half a dozen copies of +yesterday's issue--" + +"You got in ahead of Higginson, then?" + +"On the contrary," said Peter. "And that's another queer thing--about +Smith, I mean. Higginson had been in and made him an offer an hour ahead +of me, and the fellow had turned him down flat. Yet I happen to know +that the price I offered was under Higginson's by a pretty good year's +income. Now what d' you think of that?" + +Varney was silent a moment. "Smith wants a new deal all around, I +imagine," he said slowly. "He knew that you would make the _Gazette_ an +honest paper; he didn't know anything of the sort about the other man. +Probably he knew just the contrary. Bully for Smith, I say! But what do +you make of this chap Higginson?" + +"Search me," said Peter, rather impatiently. "He's clearly imported by +Ryan for some definite purpose, but just what his game is beats me. +There'll be more developments, of course. After I'd signed up with Smith +I spent half an hour of valuable time looking for the rascal, but +couldn't find a footprint anywhere. He seems to have a special gift for +appearing and disappearing. If he decides to stay with us, though, he'll +explain himself to me to-morrow, or I'll know the reason why." + +"Well, you've already pulled his teeth, haven't you? This little +purchase of yours knocks the wind out of his sails in any event." + +"I wish I could be sure of that." + +"And, by the way, that reminds me. Of course I'm in on this, you +understand--on what you paid for the _Gazette_." + +"Not on my account," said Peter frankly. "When this town starts booming, +as it will in eight days from date--Higginson had that part of it right, +anyway--the _Gazette's_ going to be the prettiest little property you +ever saw in your life. I saw it first and you will kindly back away off +the grass. By the bye," he went on, "the lunch to-morrow. Hare and his +sister both accepted--two o'clock. You ought to have seen Hare's face +when I told him we owned this little old _Gazette_. Worth the price of +admission alone--he'd been hot as a stove all day about that story this +morning. I asked Mrs. Marne whether Miss Carstairs had happened to say +anything about coming, but she hadn't seen her to-day at all. I guess +there won't be any trouble in that quarter, though, when she gets +through reading the paper's apologies to-morrow." + +"I don't know," said Varney. "I am going to her house to-night to find +out." + +"Why?" said Peter, surprised. "What do you think we bought this paper +for, anyway?" + +"The great trouble is that she may not believe the paper. This is +important, you see. The whole thing hinges on whether or not she is +coming to lunch with us. The only way I can be certain that she is +coming is to have her tell me so." + +Peter jingled his keys. "Of course, we don't want to take chances, +but--" + +"Another thing," said Varney. "She promised to lunch with Stanhope--the +celebrity--not me, you know." + +"H'm," said Peter cogitatively, and added: "I guess you're right. I'm +sure everything's all serene, but it'll do no harm to press a call. +Well! I must fly upstairs for a while and see how things are going." + +"What about the _Daily?_" + +"That's what I've got to do right now--settle the _Daily_ and dictate a +strong _Gazette_ story for to-morrow's issue, stripping the socks off +the Stanhope lie and all that. I've got to show the boys upstairs +exactly how we want the whole thing, handled." + +"Fire away, old top." + +"It's all sketched out in my mind," continued Peter, rising. "Did it at +the hotel over my chuck-steak. I won't be long. You wait here for me, +will you? I've chartered an automobile for a week and I'll run you up to +the Carstairs house and wait outside till you're ready to go back to the +yacht." + +"Why these civilities, my son?" + +"The fact is," said Peter, a little reluctantly, "that story this +morning seems to have pulled open a lot of old sores, just as it was +meant to. Hare's picked up some loose odds and ends of talk about town +to-day. I noticed two men hanging around here as we came in just now who +didn't look right to me. I can't get it out of my head that there's +something in the wind to-night, and Higginson's back of it. Anyway, +there's no use of running needless risks, now that we've practically got +a strangle-hold on the whole proposition." + +Varney glanced at his watch. "Right for you. It's too early to call yet, +anyway. I'll wait." + +"Correct," said Peter at the door. "One last item of news. Stanhope +himself, the real one, is coming to-morrow." + +"Here--to stay?" + +Peter nodded. "The caretaker of his cottage told Hare--told him not to +tell a soul. But I don't believe he'll stay long. The fellow's clearly a +fool as well as a dog." + +"We ought to warn him how things stand here," said Varney, "no matter +what kind of person he is. You and I know that we 've made matters a +good deal worse for him." + +"He's made them a good deal worse for us, also. But I'll see that he's +promptly advised to leave while the leaving's good. Back in an hour at +the farthest." + +Peter tramped off down the passageway, banging the front door behind +him; and Varney was left alone in the little office to attend his +return. At once it came to him that this was exactly what he had been +doing ever since he had been in Hunston,--waiting for Peter. + +"I am the greatest waiter that the human race has yet produced," he +thought, despondently, and dropping down into a chair, stared long at +the shut door. + +What a day it had been!--beginning with cut-and-dried little plans that +seemed sure, running off in the middle into black depths of hopeless +complications, blossoming suddenly into unlooked-for triumph. Yes, +complete triumph at last. The visit that he meant to pay a little later +was merely an added precaution; he felt no doubts as to how matters +would turn out now. To-morrow, the _Gazette_, Peter's paper, would set +him square before all Hunston, and Mary Carstairs, sorry for the wrong +she had done him, would come to the yacht as she had engaged to do. With +the clairvoyance born of his swift revulsion of feeling, he knew that +his victory was already won. Yet he did not feel now as a conqueror +feels. In the loneliness of the tight-shut little office, he confronted +the knowledge that he did not think of Uncle Elbert's daughter as his +enemy, and that it mattered to him that she was to hate him and worse.... + +Suddenly in the entire stillness, he heard a sound close by, and +straightened up sharply. Some one was gently trying the front door. He +felt quite sure of it. He got up quickly and quietly, and hurried down +the passageway to the front; but there was nothing to be seen. + +Outside, the street, from the brilliantly-lighted room, looked inky +black. He stood a moment listening intently. He thought he heard +footsteps not far away, swiftly receding, but he could not be sure. Then +he remembered the men that Peter had seen in the street a little while +before, and understood. + +Somebody was watching him, apparently waiting for a chance. Those whom +Stanhope had wronged had been spurred to square the old account, and the +_Gazette's_ canard had not been undone yet. He yearned to dash after +those retreating footsteps and find out who was the prudent proprietor +of them. But even to stand here was hardly fair to Elbert Carstairs. + +"How can I go sailing to-morrow," he said aloud, musingly, "if I'm laid +up in a hospital, or laid out in the morgue?" + +He went back to his office, shut himself in again; and with the closing +of the door he shut out all thought of the enemies of Ferris Stanhope. +Soon his mind broke away from him, and went galloping off to the morrow. +Great vividness marked the pictures that danced before the eye of his +thought. Now the luncheon, the planned and fought for, was over. They +were there, strung out gayly along deck,--Mrs. Marne, Hare, Peter, Mary +Carstairs, and he. Then, by some deft stratagem, the others were gone +and he was sitting alone by Mary at the rail. The _Cypriani_ was slowly +moving, as though for a ten-minute spin down the river. And then, as she +gathered headway, he turned suddenly to Mary and told her everything: +how he had deceived and tricked her, and how she would not go back to +Hunston that afternoon.... + +It might have been ten minutes that he sat like this. It might have been +half an hour. But after a time he heard, suddenly and distinctly, that +noise at the door again. + +There was the less doubt about it this time, in that the shutting of the +door was now clearly audible, and there followed the distinct sound of +some one moving in the main office. Then the door in the passageway +swung open and footsteps pattered, coming nearer. The light firm steps +drew nearer, halted; and there came a small rap upon his door. + +"Come in," he called loudly, encouragingly. "I'm here, all right. Come +in." + +The door opened, a little slowly, as though not quite certain whether it +was going to open or not, and Mary Carstairs stood upon the threshold, +silhouetted in the sudden frame. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +WHEREIN SEVERAL LARGE DIFFICULTIES ARE SMOOTHED AWAY + +He had sat upright, his hands over his chair-arms, his mind and muscle +tense; but at that unbelievable sight, he fell back in his chair +relaxed, staring and dazed like one who sees a goddess in a vision. + +"Good evening," said this goddess, looking decidedly embarrassed and +remarkably pretty. "I--I am so glad that we've found you." + +"You were looking for _me_?" he said incredulous, utterly mystified; and +the instinct of long training, working on with no guidance from him, +impelled him to rise with a stiff and somewhat belated bow. + +"Yes. And there are two men with me who are anxious to help...." + +Her fragrant presence seemed to fill and transform the dingy office; and +he was at once aware that her manner had lost that cool remoteness which +at their last meeting had set him so far away. + +He pulled himself sharply together, entirely missing the implication in +her speech, and struck abruptly to the one point that mattered. + +"Some one has convinced you since last night that I am not that man." + +"Yes," she answered, looking away from him with faintly heightened +color. "I--I must ask you to forgive me for--last night." + +He bowed stiffly from behind the table. + +"But who--if I may know--persuaded you, where I appeared so--" + +"My mother," she said, simply. "She caught a glimpse of you on the +street yesterday. I did not know of it till to-day--never dreamed that +she knew you. I'm glad," she added hurriedly, resolutely contrite, "of +the chance to--to say this--" + +"It is extraordinarily kind," said Varney. He looked at her steadily, as +far from understanding the mystery of her coming as ever. + +"But I came," she went on at once, as though reading the question in his +eyes, "for quite another reason. We happened to stop just now at poor +Jim Hackley's." + +The name riveted his attention. A quality in her voice had already told +him that something troubled her. + +"At Hackley's?" + +She stood just behind Peter's deserted chair and rested her ungloved +right hand upon it. He noticed, as though it were a matter which was +going to be vital to him later on, that she wore no rings, and that +there was a tiny white spot on the nail of her thumb. + +"Some men are waiting on this dark street somewhere, Mr. Varney," she +began hurriedly, "waiting, I'm afraid, for you to come out--four or +five--I don't know how many. You know--what that means. But oh, it isn't +their fault!--they don't know any better, you see!--" + +The sudden anxiety in her voice cleared his wits and braced him like a +tonic: and so he came front to front with the fact that it was to help +him--to help _him_--that Uncle Elbert's daughter had come to the +_Gazette_ office that night. + +"I appreciate that perfectly, of course. But--the rest is not so clear. +I don't quite understand--how did you happen to learn of this?" + +"I? Oh, my learning about it was the purest chance. It was told me two +minutes ago by a visitor here, a Mr. Higginson, whom I met last night. +He is outside in the car now, and--" + +"Mr. Higginson!" echoed Varney, astounded. + +"You know him, perhaps?" + +"I? Oh, no--no. But I interrupted you. Do go on and tell me--" + +She began to speak rapidly and earnestly: + +"This afternoon I went motoring, I and a friend of mine--Mr. John +Richards. We took a wrong turn coming back, and of course were horribly +late. But at the edge of the square we stopped a minute to inquire about +Mrs. Hackley, who was taken quite ill yesterday afternoon. Just as I was +getting back into the car, up ran this Mr. Higginson, very much +flustered and excited. You see, he had just found out about all +this--this plot--even to knowing where you were; he had seen poor Jim +Hackley, it seems, not at all himself, and overheard him talking. Of +course, we saw that you must be warned at once, so we took him in the +car, and all three of us ran back here." + +She paused a moment, and he prompted her with a close-clipped: "Yes?" + +"I wanted him to--come in and tell you about it," she said +hesitatingly--"but he wouldn't do it. He is a most agreeable old man, +but, I imagine--of a very nervous temperament. So," she added with a +hurried little laugh, "as I was the only one who--knew you, I said that +I would come in and tell you myself." + +"It was most kind--most kind of you all." + +He turned away sharply to hide his sudden rush of indignation and +resentment. Turbulently he longed to get his hands upon the sly +Higginson, who had had the effrontery to dispatch a woman to protect +him, and this woman of all others that lived in Hunston.... Protect +him? Hardly. That an attack had been planned against his person was, +indeed, likely enough, but not that any hireling of Ryan's should rush +forward hysterically to pluck him from his peril. What move in that +mysterious game, what strange plot within a plot was here?... + +"Did Mr. Higginson happen to explain why he took such a generous, and I +fear very troublesome, interest in my welfare?" + +Genuinely anxious for light, he tried to iron all suggestion of a sneer +out of his voice, but evidently he did not quite succeed. + +"Oh, I don't think you ought to speak that way! Surely he has done only +what anybody would do for any stranger who was in danger and didn't know +it." + +"And you?" + +She looked at him rather shyly out of her somewhat spectacular eyes. + +"That explains me, too--if you wish." + +"Maginnis and I," said Varney immediately, "are not going out for some +time yet. Oh, a long, long time! These poor fellows you speak of will +tire of waiting long before that. And when we do go--" + +"You must not go together." + +"I don't think I understand you." + +"Don't you see," she said, speaking very earnestly, "that that is +exactly what they are hoping for? This ambuscade didn't just happen--it +is manufactured--it is politics. Men like these haven't the initiative, +or whatever you call it, to get up a thing of this sort. Some one has +done it for them. Don't you know why? _They want to get rid of Mr. +Maginnis_. But they can't hurt him _alone_--without having it brought +right home to them--to the politicians. With you--it is--different--" + +"Yes, yes--I see. But forgive my asking--did Mr. Higginson explain the +situation to you in just this way?" + +"Mr. Higginson?" she said, plainly surprised at his harking back to +that. "It was not necessary. I understood the situation very well, from +what Mr. Hare has told me. Mr. Higginson simply gave us the facts about +these men hiding out there--there was no time for anything more." + +He was staring at her with unconscious steadiness, and now his face took +on a slow faint smile, which she was very far from understanding. Blurry +as it all still was, light was beginning to break through upon him. Of +course, that was all that Mr. Higginson had told her. Of course. The +last thing desired by that clever rogue, who used petticoats for +stalking-horses and was not above hiding behind them for the safety of +his own skin, was for the engineered "attack" to go off prematurely, +landing only Varney and failing to "get" Maginnis. Warnings that the two +should _not_ go out together from Higginson? Hardly. + +"I understand perfectly. Maginnis is quite safe without me, but not at +all safe with me. You may count upon me absolutely. I'll give him the +slip and leave here alone." + +"You mustn't do anything of the kind," said Mary sharply. + +She looked at him, unsmiling, eye to eye like a man; but she looked from +under a fantastic and exceedingly becoming little hat, swathed all about +with a wholly fascinating gray veil. Her skin was of an exquisite +freshness, which threw into sharp relief the vivid coloring of her lips; +the modeling of her cheek and throat was consummate, beyond improvement; +and her eyes--he told himself that they could have no match anywhere. + +Varney laughed shortly. "I am not to go out with Maginnis. I am not to +go out without him. May I ask if I am expected to spend thnight +prudently curled up under the office table here?" + +The situation was odious to him; he knew that his manner betrayed it; +but if she was aware of this she gave no sign. On the contrary her face +all at once became miraculously sweet. + +"You aren't thinking that there's any question of courage mixed up in +this, Mr. Varney? Indeed, indeed, there is not. They would fight in the +dark; they would fight from behind. The very _bravest_ men would have no +chance, and very brave men don't take foolish risks, do they? I know by +Mr. Hare. Mr. Varney, I have a little plan." + +"Indeed? Do tell me." + +"Our car is at the door, you know--Mr. Richards's car. We'd both like it +very much if you would come with us." + +"Where?" + +"Well--I thought that perhaps you'd come to my house. Only to get rid of +these men and not to--get them into any trouble. Of course, no one in +Hunston would annoy you when you were with me." + +If he had hated the thought of accepting protection from Mary Carstairs +less intensely, he might have laughed aloud. As Higginson's catspaw, she +was certainly the most screaming failure that the whole world could have +yielded. What, oh what, would the old gum-shoe have said if he could +have heard that invitation? + +"Thank you, but that is quite impossible." + +"I am awfully sorry." + +There was a faint stiffening in her manner. She began to draw on her +right glove, slowly tucking out of sight the thumb with the tiny white +spot on the nail. + +"I hoped that perhaps you might come to dinner with us. I haven't had +any yet. May I--suggest another way out of all this, then? There is a +back gate to this place, leading into a kind of alley, you know. I am +sure that they--these poor men--haven't thought of that. Couldn't you +please go out--" + +"Certainly," said Varney. "Certainly. Yes, indeed. I'll do +anything--anything in the wide world to avoid getting thumped on the +head with Mr. Hackley's walking-stick." + +Her face told him that she found his tone and manner somewhat +disconcerting, but she took no notice of it otherwise. + +"I hope it won't be necessary to do anything more than that. But if it +should be, I hope you'll do it. I'm afraid I've failed to make you see +that this is really serious. Good-night." + +But Varney, having a question to ask her, could not let her go yet. + +"But--but," he said, hastily, "you must allow me to thank you--you and +Mr. Higginson--" + +"The thanks are all Mr. Higginson's. I'm only a messenger--and besides, +you aren't grateful at all, you know! You think we've all been +_extremely_ intrusive!" She smiled brightly, bowed, and then was +suddenly checked by a new thought. "Oh--I wonder if you would tell me +something before I go?" + +"By all means," said Varney, having no idea whether he would or not. + +But the loud jangling whir of a telephone bell from the adjoining room +cut into the air, drowning out conversation; and it rang on and on and +on as though Central had had her orders. + +"I suppose I'll have to answer that to shut them up," he said. "Excuse +me for the merest second, won't you?" + +He passed through into the brightly-lit business office beyond, and +found the telephone, still ringing away on a desk at the farther end. +Behind him the door swung shut, a circumstance for which he later had +reason to be glad. + +"Well?" he called impatiently. + +"You, Larry?" asked a familiar voice. + +"Yes. What's the matter?" + +"Matter enough," said Peter in a guarded undertone. "Hammerton's loose." + +"_What_!" + +"It's a fact. God knows how he did it; but he's just phoned in here from +a house a long way down the road. Wanted to let the city editor know he +was flying in with the one best bet of the year. Luckily he gave no +details." + +Varney's lips tightened; he spoke in a low voice. "He mustn't +arrive--not till I've seen him first. Did you find out how he's +coming--river or road?" + +"Trust Uncle Dudley. He's borrowed a bicycle and is burning up the River +road with it." + +"Good. How soon will you be through?" + +"About three minutes." + +"You've hired a motor, you said? Get it and run back here as soon as you +can, will you?" + +He rapidly explained the situation, though making no mention of +Higginson: how somebody had plotted to get them together in the darkness +of Main Street, how Miss Carstairs and her friend had kindly stopped to +warn them, and how he had humored her by promising to take all sorts of +precautions. + +"Right-O," said Peter. "I'll be in the alley at the back in no time. +Come quick when I honk three times." + +Varney came back into the little office where Mary Carstairs waited, +fresh from more cheap plotting in which she was the innocent central +figure; and faced her, uncomfortable, ill at ease, disquieted inwardly +as a conspirator taken red-handed. + +"It was Maginnis--upstairs," he explained awkwardly. + +"Yes?" she said indifferently, and resumed the buttoning of her glove. +"And will you tell me something now? It has been on my mind since last +night." + +"Certainly." + +"Who was it that spoke of me to you and made you think that I was a +little girl?" + +He was entirely taken aback by the question; but he could have parried +it easily, and he knew it. However, he was heartily sick of subterfuge +for that night. + +"It was your father," he said bluntly. + +"My father!" She stood silent a moment, slim hands interlocked before +her, heavily fringed eyes lowered. "So you know them both--my mother and +my father. Then--the mistake--about my age," she added with something of +an effort, "was natural enough. I have not seen my father for many +years." + +"I see him," said he, "constantly. Your father and I are great chums." A +sudden insane hope overwhelmed him, and he went on with a rush: "You +know, or rather probably you don't know, that he and my mother were old +friends; and I am proud to have fallen heir to the friendship. You say +that you have not seen him for some time? He is growing older very fast +this last year or two; he is much changed of late. And then, Miss +Carstairs, he is desperately lonely, all by himself in that great house +of his--" + +"_Stop_!" cried Mary Carstairs, with quick passionateness. "Stop! You +are trying to make me feel sorry for my father." + +"Well," he said, as stormy as she, "_you ought to_! But your friends are +waiting. I must not detain you any longer." + +At the curtness of his speech a very faint wave of color ran up her +cheek; and when he saw this he was sorry and glad in a single breath. At +least, she could not say afterwards that he had ever tried to make +himself falsely civil and lyingly agreeable. "Yes, I have stayed very +much too long already. You've promised that you will be careful, haven't +you? I'm really too sorry," she said, from the door, "that your visit to +Hunston should have been made disagreeable in all these ways." + +"In the name of heaven," he said, stung into momentary recklessness, +"you don't suppose that I came here expecting any _fun_!" + +"Why--I had understood that it was purely a pleasure-trip that brought +you here!" + +He made no answer to this, but stepped forward and swung open the door +for her. + +"Maginnis," he said, "is to call for me immediately in a motor. We +shall leave by the unobtrusive back alley. Two men, a motor, and a dark +rear exit. You will scarcely imagine that there is any danger now. But +may I thank you again for giving us warning when there _was_, perhaps, +some danger?" + +"So you think there is a 'perhaps'? If you take precautions, it is only +to humor a--" + +"I withdraw that 'perhaps,'" he broke out in a rush. "I blot it out, +annihilate it. Who am I to catch at tatters of self-respect? Are you +blind? Can't you see that every fiber of me is tingling with the +knowledge that there was real danger, and that you saved me from it?" + +The quick bitterness in his voice, which there was no missing, was the +last straw, breaking through her reserve, demolishing her dainty +aloofness. She shook the swinging gray veil back out of her eyes and +looked up at him, openly and frankly bewildered, looking very young and +immeasurably alluring. + +"Will you tell me why you speak in that way? Will you tell me why it is +the worst thing that has happened to you in Hunston to have been helped +a little by me?" + +They faced each other at the open door, not an arm's length between +them; and the moment of his reckoning for the quarter of an hour he had +spent with her that night was suddenly upon him. He met her eyes, which +were darkly blue, stared down into them; and as he did so, the spell of +her beauty treacherously closed round him, piping away his self-control, +deadening him to the iron fact of who she was and who he was, shutting +out all knowledge except that of her fragrant nearness. + +"It is absurd," he answered her suddenly, "but to save my life I can't +decide whether you are tall or short." + +The front door came open with a bang; the noise brought him sharply to +himself; and the next moment a pleasant impatient masculine voice called +out: + +"I say, Miss Carstairs! Er--everything all right?" + +"Oh!--yes, Mr. Richards!" she called penitently. "I'm coming this +minute. No, please don't go out with me, Mr. Varney. Don't let anybody +see that you are here." + +"Certainly not," said he, struggling for a poise which he could not +quite recapture. "Then will you be good enough to convey my gratitude to +Mr. Higginson and say that I hope to have the opportunity of thanking +him personally to-morrow?" + +"Yes, of course. Good-night once more--and good luck!" + +But he detained her long enough to put the plain business question which +had been torturing his soul for the last twenty-four hours. + +"We shall see you at luncheon to-morrow?" + +He strove to give his remark the air of a mere commonplace of farewell; +but at it, he saw her look break away from his and the warm color stream +into her face. + +"Why--I--I'll come with pleasure. We don't get the chance to lunch on +yachts every day in Hunston. Oh, but please," she exclaimed, her +embarrassment suddenly melting in a very natural and charming +smile--"never let my mother _dream_ that we've _not been introduced!_" + +He bowed low so that she might not see the burlesque of polite pleasure +on his face. + + * * * * * + +The back alley exit proved all that the most timorous could have +desired. Peter approached it by an elusive detour; Varney appeared +promptly at the sound of his three honks; and the rendezvous was +effected in a black darkness which they seemed to have entirely to +themselves. Not a hand was raised to them, not a threatening figure +sprang up to dispute their going, not a fierce curse cursed them. The +would-be assassins, if such there were, presumably still lurked in some +Main Street cranny, patiently and stupidly waiting, entirely unaware +that they had been neatly outwitted by the clever strategies of Miss +Mary Carstairs. + +The car rolled noiselessly out of the alley, skimmed off through the +southern quarter of the town and bowled into the rough and rutty River +road toward the yacht. Once there, since a sharp lookout for the +reporter was necessary, they slowed down and down until the smooth +little car, with all lights out, crawled along no faster than a vigorous +man will walk. + +"What're you going to do when we catch him?" asked Peter. "Want to haul +him on back to the yacht?" + +"No. I'm--only going to talk to him a little. Go on with the story." + +"Well," resumed Peter, taking one hand from the driving-wheel to remove +a genuine Connecticut Havana, "the first thing was a wire from the +_Daily_ firing Hammerton. That assisted a little, of course. Then, they +asked us to give them a new, good man at once, and meantime to push +along all the story we had. We answered with a wire that was a beauty, +if I do mention it myself, telling them exactly how they'd been sold a +second-hand gold brick by a corrupt paper which was trying to play +politics. It simply knocked the pins from under them. It took 'em quite +a while to come back with inquiries about the name off the yacht, +Varney's air of mystery and all that line of slush. My response was +vigorous, yet gentlemanly, straining the truth for all she'd stand, and +even bu'sting her open here and there, I gravely fear. However, it was a +clincher. It crimped them right. Not a peep have we had from 'em since." + +"I suppose they'll run four lines on the thirteenth page to-morrow +explaining it was all a mistake." + +"But that wasn't the serious part of the thing--not by a mile-walk," +continued Peter, the shine of victory in his honest eyes. "Am I still in +the road? Sing out if you see me taking to the woods, will you? The more +I think of what you and I have missed by a shave, the more I'm likely to +feel sick in the stomach. You know those rascals had already begun +asking for orders all over the country--they were so sure they'd have a +hot story to send out. Not only that, but a lot of papers wired for it +without being asked. It looked as if every newspaper office in America +that had got a glimpse at the _Daily_ this morning instantly got dead +stuck on that story. I stood at the telegraph desk and watched the +accursed things come in, like this: '500 words story involving Stanhope, +Rochester _Tribune_.' 'No. 3.--' That was the number of our story on the +query list.--'No. 3.--Full details, Chicago _Ledger_.' 'No. 3--1000 +words, Philadelphia _Journal_.' And so on and on. It looked uncanny, I +tell you--all those far-away people calling for information about our +affairs just like old friends. Will you kindly let your mind play about +that a minute, Laurence? Will you kindly think of a situation like that +with Ryan and Coligny Smith handling it as their little whimseys +dictated?" + +"I'd rather not. You wired those papers that the story was a canard and +all that, I suppose?" + +"No!" roared Peter, "I did something a whole lot better than that. I had +one of the men write a hot political story about the _Gazette_ and the +change of management and the sudden rise of Reform. There's _news_ in +that, don't you see?--and it was the Stanhope-Varney story, too--the +real one. When I left the office, they were selling it like hot cakes, +all over the country--all over the world--" + +"Hold on!" said Varney, sharply. "Here's Hammerton, I think--bringing in +a whole lot better story than yours!" + +The road here was straight as a string stretched tight. Far down it, +they saw a single small light, dancing towards them a foot or two above +the ground. + +Peter threw off his clutch, clapped on his brakes and stopped short. +Varney slid out of the seat and stood waiting in the black inkiness +beside the unlighted car. In the sudden stillness they could hear the +rattle of the bicycle chain and even the crunch of the hard-blown tires, +spinning rapidly over the road. Now the light was perhaps a hundred +yards away. + +"Blow!" hispered Varney. + +The horn's honk cut the silent air hoarsely. Instantly the speed of the +oncoming light was checked. It advanced steadily, but much more slowly, +as though the rider sensed that his road might be blocked, but could not +yet determine where the hidden obstacle might be. + +"Hello!" called a lusty young voice suddenly. "Who's there?" + +There was no answer. The light came on more slowly still. Now it was +fifty yards away, now twenty, now ten. Varney stepped out of the +blackness, directly in front of it, and seized both handle-bars in +fingers that gripped like a vise. The shock of the sudden stopping all +but cost the rider his seat. + +"May I detain you one moment, please, Mr. Hammerton?" + +The little light of the bicycle lamp was all concentrated downward. +Above that round yellow ray, faces were unrecognizable in the pitchy +blackness. The voice, however, was unmistakable. Hammerton was off the +back of his wheel in the wink of an eye, on a sudden desperate bolt for +the woods. + +Peter, still on the driver's seat, and seeing neither his friend nor his +enemy, saw the light with the bicycle behind it go over with a crash. +That was when Varney's hands let go of the handle-bars. The next instant +they fell upon Hammerton's withdrawing figure and brought it up with a +sharp jerk. + +Peter heard the ensuing struggle, but saw nothing. He paid Varney the +tribute of sitting still in his seat and saying not a word. The contest +was bitter, but brief. Hammerton fought wildly, but Varney's arms +presently closed round him, squeezing the life out of him. Locked fast +in each other's arms, they fell heavily, Hammerton underneath. Varney +freed his legs with a swift wrench, swung round and came up riding upon +the other's chest. + +Charlie Hammerton was beaten and knew it. His body lay along the rocky +road, inert and unresisting. He breathed in convulsive gasps, but apart +from that, now that he was down, he never moved. He was as tired as a +man well could be. Varney sitting closely upon him, holding him fast, +felt that the reporter's clothes were wringing wet. However, he had him, +and the _Cypriani's_ great secret was once more in captivity. + +The eyes of the two men strained into the dark where each other's faces +must be, but they saw nothing. + +"It's all up with you, Hammerton," said Varney presently. "The _Daily_ +fired you an hour ago." + +"Thanks to you," said Hammerton doggedly. "But if you think that lets +_you_ out, you're a bigger fool than I thought." + +"That is not all," said Varney slowly. "The _Gazette_ has fired you, +too." + +The reporter swore bitterly beneath his breath: curiously enough, he +did not seem to question the statement for a moment. "What of it?" he +cried. "You don't think that'll stop my mouth, do you--you _devil_!" + +"There is still something more. Maginnis has bought the _Gazette_. He +and I own the news of this town now. Coligny Smith is fired, too. The +_Gazette_ starts an honest life to-morrow, and the old dirty regime is +over forever." + +"Liar!" cried Hammerton, hoarsely. "Liar!" but there was no conviction +in the mad resentment of his voice. + +"No," said Varney, without anger. "I am telling you the truth and you +know it." + +"Well--there are other papers,--other towns," cried Hammerton +passionately. "What I've got on you will sell anywhere. Why, damn you, +_damn you, damn you_--don't you know you'll have to kill me to hush this +up?" + +"No," said Varney, "I'm going to do better than that. I'm going to make +a friend of you. I'm going to make you editor of the _Gazette_ in +Smith's place with double your present salary and an interest in the +paper." + +There was black silence, more thrilling than any speech. + +"Will you take it?" asked Varney. + +Then the boy's overstrained self-command snapped like a bow-string and +his breast shook with sudden hysteria. "Will I take it?" he cried with a +gasping laugh that was rather more like a sob. "Will I take the Court +of St. James? Will I take money from home? Oh, my God, will I take it!" + +"Hooray!" rang Peter's great voice out of the gloom. "Hip, hip, hooray +for Editor Hammerton!" + +Peter's tribute, in reality, was not so much for Hammerton's acceptance +as for the astonishing neatness with which Varney had disposed of the +editorship of _his_ paper. But to Varney, rising limply from Hammerton's +chest at the edge of the dark road, that cheer meant only that he had +kicked the last obstacle out of his path and that he and Mary were going +to New York to-morrow. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +A LITTLE LUNCHEON PARTY ON THE YACHT "CYPRIANI" + +The expectation appeared thoroughly conservative: not a cloud so large +as a man's hand any longer darkened the horizon. At two o'clock next day +Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ rode gayly at her old anchorage. At the rail +stood Varney and Maginnis, hosts of pleasant and guileless mien, their +eyes upon the trim gig which came dancing over the water toward them. In +the gig sat J. Pinkney Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne, blithely coming +to lunch aboard with their two new friends. + +The yacht's return to Hunston had been in all ways different from her +going. She had slipped away like the hunted thing she was, running to +cover with a hold full of fears, shying at every craft that passed, and +yelled after from the shore by a stoutish young man with inimical +opinions in his eye. She had steamed back, early this morning, not +merely without fear, but proudly, her whistle screaming for the +lime-light, her fore-truck flying, so to say, the burgee of vindication; +and the stoutish and inimical young man had come aboard for breakfast +with his new employer at nine o'clock sharp. Such was the measure of the +whitewashing work accomplished by three columns in Mr. Maginnis's +_Gazette_ that morning. + +Of the "news value" of those astonishing columns, "the author's double" +(as the _Gazette's_ converted reporters felicitously dubbed him) had had +abundant evidence in the many glances that followed him upon the streets +of Hunston that morning. Varney's errand in town had had to do with +Tommy Orrick. Some search was needed to find the transient tenant of +Kerrigan's loft; but when he was finally located the matter of homes in +New York was discussed and settled in the most satisfactory way in the +world. It was decided that Tommy should remove his Penates to the city +that very evening, where he was to be met at Forty-second Street by a +Mr. Horace O'Hara, an interesting personage who had once been a burglar +but was now in the fish and vegetable way at Fulton Market. Together +they would make their way to the Home. Future plans had to do with an +educative course at the graded schools and other matters so strange and +exalted that one could not hear them mentioned without experiencing the +most benumbing abashment. + +The two good friends parted with a handshake, enforced by the young +man--a unique ceremonial which filled the small breast of Thomas with a +conflict of strange emotions; and Varney, having dispatched a telegram +to Mr. O'Hara, and another to Mrs. Marie Duval, who had the home with no +boys in it on 117th Street, had at once turned his face back to the +yacht. He chose the woodland path for his walk, which struck straight +down from the handsome residence street and skirted the river at a +point near the _Cypriani's_ anchorage; and here an incident of interest +befell him. As he sauntered down the path, conscious of a sudden curious +loss of spirits, his attention was caught by the blurred sound of voices +from the street, some fifty yards behind him; and presently the vague +rumble crystallized into something like this: + +"... Infernal absence of livery ... Far ... station-master fellow say +it was, Henry?" + +The voice was masculine, carefully modulated, decidedly elegant. A +different sort of voice gave answer: + +"'E said, sir ... mile, but knowing the hodd way they count distances +away from the cities, sir, I'm 'ardly 'oping to see it under two +mile--hif that." + +Varney idly turned. The woods were thick just ahead of him, cutting off +all view of the street; but further on, to the north, there was a break +in the leafy wall, revealing a small slit of patent cement sidewalk. +Soon, as he watched, two pedestrians stepped into view within this frame +of foliage: a tall immaculate-looking man swinging a trim cane, and +behind him a stocky, middle-sized, black-garbed fellow struggling along +under two suit-cases and a roll of umbrellas. In three steps they had +passed across the little open space and were again lost behind the +trees, their voices running once more into an indistinguishable rumble. + +Varney, halting in the path, had little doubt who the tall man was. It +was Ferris Stanhope, returning to the home of his boyhood and sublimely +unaware of the nature of the reception which awaited him. + +Cordially as Varney loathed the great author, he had no wish to see him +taken by surprise and beaten to a pulp by mob-law. Moreover, if anything +like that happened, he and Peter would be largely responsible, since the +present excitement of feeling had been largely worked up for their +benefit. He had half a mind to go straight after the _insouciant_ +visitor now, unpleasant as it would be to have to speak to him, and give +him the fair warning he was entitled to. But he dismissed the impulse as +plainly overdoing his duty: the man was in no possible danger in broad +daylight, and Peter had already promised that he would attend to the +warning business himself. + +Now, as they stood calmly chatting at the rail under the brilliant sky, +he told Peter of the author's arrival, and dutifully reminded him of +that promise. Peter renewed it, without enthusiasm. His eyes rested on +the approaching gig with a kind of fascination; and Varney followed his +gaze. + +"Isn't Hare dressy, though! Frock-coat and all that ..." + +"Yes ... He'll add a needed touch of elegance to the somber setting of +the drama." + +"By the way," said Varney presently, "how did Hammerton get away last +night? I believe Ferguson's been dodging me all day, but the fact is +I've never given it a thought." + +Peter laughed. + +"He's sharp as a tack, that boy is. He played dead till old Ferguson got +first interested, then nervous, and lastly careless. Lay there two hours +without moving; breathed as little as he could do with, and at long +intervals fluttered one eyelid and took a peep how the land lay. After a +while there came a time when the door was left wide open and only one +deckhand in sight. Hammerton floored him with a chair from behind, and +jumped over the rail. She happened to be moving close inshore at the +time, and he was in the woods before the fatheads even got a boat down." + +Varney echoed his laugh absently. All morning, since his return from +Hunston, he had felt himself enfolded by a mysterious despondency, which +he had seemed unable either to account for or to shake off. But now, as +the final climax of his business drew near to summon him, he felt his +spirits inexplicably rising again. A certain excitement possessed him; +he was glad that at last his hour had come. + +Hardly listening to Peter, he was running over in the most business-like +way the little scheme, mapped out and rehearsed together that morning, +by which the two superfluous guests, the mere "sleepers" in the +orchestra, were to be detached at the proper moment. Yes, certainly; it +was sound and would hold water. So would everything else. Peter's things +had gone ashore two hours before, for he was to remain in Hunston. +Everything had been provided for; the last detail systematically +arranged. A surer scheme and a clearer coast could not possibly have +been contrived or desired. + +"At breakfast," continued Peter, "Hammerton suddenly blurted out that, +while he wasn't crazed with conscientiousness as a rule, one thing had +kept him awake last night. Demanded whether we had the nerve to think +that we had simply bought him off with a job. 'Perish the thought, +Charlie,' said I, looking kind of hurt at the bare suggestion. 'Thank +you, Maginnis,' said he, dignified as the President. 'It's an honest +fact that I gave up the chase because I felt all along that you two +fellows couldn't possibly be mixed up in anything underhanded.' Aha! +thinks me to myself ... Eh, Laurence?" + +"Just exactly." + +"Well, cheer up. It's done every day by our best families. And speaking +of doing underhanded things," said Peter, "our guests approach rapidly. +Up, guards, and at them!" + +He took off his terrible Panama and waved it in a friendly manner. + +"How-de-do, Mrs. Marne! Morning, candidate! Welcome aboard." + +The sister and brother came up the stair, and were cordially greeted by +their hosts. + +"Ashore again!" ordered Varney over the side. "There is another guest." + +"So we have not kept you waiting after all," cried Mrs. Marne, flashing +a triumphant eye upon her brother. "Mary is not here yet--the prinker!" + +She was dark, vivacious for a chaperon, easily on the correct side of +thirty, and arrayed in very light mourning indeed. She had a will: for +it was she who had baited J. Pinkney Hare with sociology and politics to +abandon the law in New York, at which he was doing rather well, and +follow her to Hunston. This was when her husband, a member of Hunston's +oldest family--for there was aristocracy in the town--had left her +widowed the year of their marriage. + +"Three times," Hare elucidated to Varney, "did she tell me, 'I'll be +ready in a minute.' And a ten-minute interval elapsed each time, by my +grandfather's trusted chronometer." + +"Oh, well," said Varney, "who'd put any trust in a woman who was ready +when she said she'd be? Let's get into the shade." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, sister-wise, as she turned with Varney, "gets +his ideas about women from the comic weeklies." + +They sauntered aft, Peter and Hare in the rear. + +"Committee meeting at five-thirty?" + +"Precisely. And by the bye," began Hare.... + +The candidate, in his tiny frock coat, with pale gray spats and scarf to +match, looked overdressed in the brilliant sunshine. Yet probably Peter, +whose purple tie blossomed too gorgeously above a blue silk "fancy vest" +of a cut a good deal affected in the early nineties, looked the more +striking of the two. + +"He's a fool," declared Peter presently. "The chances are that Ryan has +a barrel of votes salted down where we'll have the devil's own time +tapping them. You can't smoke out a skunk in a minute, I tell you." + +Mrs. Marne, in a cushioned chair, was being markedly agreeable to her +host. + +"It's my _début_ on a yacht," she was rattling away. "Is there any +special etiquette? Coach me from time to time when you see me fumbling, +won't you? And if there _is_ a code, there is one thing that I move +shall go into it, here and now. Politics is--or are--_barred_ for the +day! Will you make it a rule that whoever mentions it--or them--forfeits +butter, Mr. Varney?" + +Varney laughed. "A rank outsider myself," said he, "I'm absolutely +willing. But I fear that in a division the nays would have it." + +"You and I," she said, "against Mr. Maginnis and Pinky. A tie. Mary +would have the deciding vote." + +"Then you'd lose out," said her brother, whose social manner, it was +developing, differed somewhat from that of his official moments. + +"I know women," said Mrs. Marne. "I could lobby Mary over in exactly two +minutes, Mr. Varney. Besides, she is absent at roll-call, you know." + +"The point is well taken," said Varney, to whom the thought was anything +but a novelty. + +"There she is now," said Peter over their shoulders. + +Varney turned and looked ashore at the point where the gig was patiently +waiting. There was no sign of anybody there. + +"Upstream," added Peter, and the sudden honk of a motor-horn punctuated +the observation like a full stop. + +Two hundred yards above them, a narrow driveway circled down to the +river to an ancient boat-house, and here the gaze of the little party +turned. Where the road curved at the water's edge, there stood a great +white touring-car, shining in the sun like a new pin. Upon the driver's +seat sat a bare-headed young man with a brown face and light sunburned +hair, brushed back. On the farther side of him, gloved hand holding to +the seat back, stood a young girl in a blue linen dress and a rather +conspicuously large hat, also of blue. Both of them were looking off +toward the _Cypriani_. Now the horn tooted again in salutation; and the +girl, catching their eyes, waved her hand and smiled, making a little +gesture indicative of her lack of equipment to navigate the intervening +stretch of water. + +Mrs. Marne answered the salute in kind. Reassuring gesticulations were +duly wafted ashore. + +"Who's the new swain, Pinky?" demanded Mrs. Marne thoughtfully. + +Pinky did not know. The sailing-master, at a word from Varney, hurled an +order to the gig ashore. Then he swept his megaphone upstream, pointing +it straight at the motor: + +"The gig is on the way to you now, Miss." + +"That's an awfully sweet hat she's wearing," said Mrs. Marne. "I wonder +where she found that shape." + +Miss Carstairs nodded her thanks to the sailing-master. The bare-headed +young man sprang down, assisted her to descend, waited with her at the +water's edge, assisted her most thoroughly into the _Cypriani's_ gig. He +was a handsome boy. He stood on the shore looking after the departing +boat, laughing and calling out something. + +"We wanted to have luncheon on deck," said Varney, abruptly, to Mrs. +Marne, "as the day is so uncommonly fine. But about noon there came up a +little cloud no larger than a man's hand--it took a telescope to see +it--and the steward, a pronounced conservative, begged us not to trifle +with our luck. It seems too bad to go indoors on such a glorious day." + +"But if we were to stay outdoors," she laughed, "would it have been such +a glorious day? These are the questions that make cynics of us all. I am +unhappy, Mr. Varney, because I have to fly the moment luncheon is over. +The Married Women's Culture Club meets at four o'clock. Only fancy!--I +am to read a paper on Immanuel Kant." + +Peter, who had known no women in his life and was oppressed with the +thought that Hare's sister was his personal responsibility for the day, +was strolling moodily about the deck, hands thrust deep in his trousers +pocket. Hare hung at the rail, his neat glasses turned upstream. + +The gig came alongside and Miss Carstairs mounted the steps, the party +gathered at the head of them to meet her. Peter, as it chanced, greeted +her first. He had been introduced to her, in passing, the night of the +meeting, but now he was dimly conscious that he had rather +underestimated her appearance. + +"I am dreadfully sorry to be late," she said. "We went for the shortest +little drive, and all at once it was two o'clock and we were three miles +away." + +"You must have done something to the speed-limit, madam," said Peter in +his stiffest manner, "for you are in ample time." + +"How do you do, Mr. Hare?" + +"Excellently well, thank you, Mary. It is supererogatory to ask you." + +"Pinky," said Mrs. Marne, "have that word and I met? I don't seem to +recognize it." + +"Good-morning, Mr. Varney." Mary offered him her hand; but, greeting +her, he had turned to pull a chair out of her way, and so missed seeing +it. + +"It is a great pleasure to welcome you aboard the yacht, Miss +Carstairs." + +"If I seem at all addicted to melancholia to-day," said Mary, "you won't +be surprised, will you? My mother isn't well--really! When I left her an +hour ago, you might have supposed that we were parting for a year. And +then, besides I had an omen--a mysterious warning...." + +Varney's gaze became fixed. "A warning?" + +She laughed. "A rather queer and scary one! I'll tell you presently." + +"My dear," said Mrs. Marne, when Varney had turned to explain the +working of the boat-falls to Hare, "_who_ is he? He is simply +cunning!" + +Mary laughed. Hare, who was listening to boat matters with one ear only, +thought it was rather a conscious laugh. + +"Only John Richards. He came up in his car yesterday to spend a day with +us. How do you like my hat?" + +"It's a love," said Mrs. Marne. "A great big love." + +"I trimmed it myself. You recognize the feather, of course?" + +They went down to luncheon. The ladies cried out with pleasure at the +prettiness of the little saloon. + +The room was darkened, through half-drawn shades, to a pleasant +dimness. The table was round, red, and bare. It was a splendid mass of +flowers. In the center was a great blossoming thing in a silver +basket-frame, so large and high that when they were seated, Hare, who +was neither, could just see Mary over the top of it. About it were four +tall vases of cut roses, two of white, two of red. Button-holes in white +and red lay at three covers, gigantic American Beauties, red, with +flowing white ribbons, at two. And napery, silver, iridescent glass, all +the materialities, were well worthy of so pretty a floral setting. + +In short, it was a most alluring bait that Uncle Elbert's yacht had +flung out for Uncle Elbert's daughter. + +"These roses," said Mary, raising hers to her lips, "were never grown in +Hunston." + +"I want to explain a rule that Mr. Varney and I adopted just now, Mr. +Maginnis," said Mrs. Marne. "Did you hear it? It concerns the two +subjects of butter and politics." + +Hare lifted a glass of the _Cypriani's_ excellent sherry and caught his +host's eye. "Mr. Varney! By a pleasant coincidence, we happen to be +gathered here within a day or two of the birthday of one member of our +charming party. The little discrepancy of date is immaterial--am I +right? Why may I not propose the health and great happiness of Miss +Carstairs?" + +"Standing!" cried Mrs. Marne, pushing back her chair. "Bravo!" + +They stood, glasses raised, turned toward Miss Carstairs, bowing, +saluting her according to their several kinds; and she sat, looking up +at them, laughing, flushed, prettily pleased by the little rite. For +Varney, conscious of the mockery of his felicitations, there had been no +escape. But Hare, who noticed everything, observed that he did not touch +his glass to his lips. + +The luncheon progressed merrily. It was evident from the beginning that +it was to be a pronounced success. Only Peter was stiff and bored; and +even he grew somewhat enlivened before the ceremonies ended. There was +Scotch and soda for the gentlemen, and he did not spurn it when the +decanters passed. Varney, whose want of appetite pained McTosh, was a +conversational tower of strength. But his talk was false-faced talk, his +mirth was lying mirth, his smile a painted smile. Uncle Elbert's +daughter sat at his left, as befitted a guest of honor. Her eyes, when +she looked at him, were kind and friendly, but it early became his habit +not to meet them; for he always saw behind that--saw them changed as he +was destined to see them within the hour.... + +"So you're quite alive and well to-day!" she said to him presently. +"Will you believe that I picked up the _Gazette_ this morning with fear +and trembling?" + +"Oh--thank you--yes! We eluded Mr. Hackley's well-meant attentions with +marvelous dexterity and success." + +"Ah, you still don't take it seriously, I see. I'm going to make one +more effort to frighten you to-day--but I'm afraid you are one of these +terribly reckless people who think being safe is too tame to be +interesting. What do you think of our poor little city, Mr. Varney?" + +"I? I assure you," he said, turning a gay face toward her, "I think it +positively the most exciting town I ever saw in my life. But then, of +course, I 've had unusual privileges. What is much more important--what +do you think of it?" + +"Of course, I love it. My mother went here to boarding school a great, +great many years ago. No, not that--some years ago. She fell in love +with the place on account of the scenery, and the air, which she says is +fresher than you can get in other places. Personally, I believe that the +same quality can be had elsewhere, but she says not at all. So when +we--left New York, nothing would do for her but to come straight here." + +"But don't you find it a little dull?" + +"Dull! Why," she cried, after a moment, "you talk exactly the way she +does." + +"May I offer you an olive?" + +She took it daintily in her fingers, bit it and resumed: "I suppose your +metropolitan idea is that a person would be buried alive in Hunston?" + +A sunny shaft broke in from without and became entangled with her hair, +which was in some ways so curiously like it. McTosh, whose eye was +everywhere, promptly lowered a shade two inches--the one blunder he made +that day. + +"Isn't it?" + +"That would depend altogether on the person." + +"Me." + +"I do think so, decidedly." + +"Really you and my mother would be very congenial." + +"McTosh, the bread," said Peter's cool voice. + +Mrs. Marne, who had been interested by Peter's taciturnity and +fascinated by his waistcoat, had been leading that ordinarily masterful +man something of a conversational dance. Detached for the moment by his +demand for provender, she called across the table: "Mary, I herewith +invite you to attend the Culture Club meeting at four o'clock this +afternoon, to lead the applause for my paper on Immanuel Kant. Pinky +wrote it and--" + +"Before any court in the land," said Hare, lifting his glance above +squab _en casserole_, "I am prepared to establish my innocence of this +charge." + +"If he positively will not take no for an answer," continued Mrs. Marne, +"you may bring John Richards along. No claret, thank you, Mr. Maginnis. +Men, it is true, are not admitted to the sacred mysteries, but I will +arrange to have him seated on the piazza where he may eavesdrop the +whole thing through the long French window." + +"Unfortunately," said Mary, "he has to go to Albany this afternoon, I +believe." + +"To resume our conversation, Mrs. Marne," said Peter. + +"I shouldn't if I were you," Hare recommended. "If memory serves, it was +hardly worth it. Why not, instead, permit me to tell the story of the +seven fat men of Kilgore?" + +McTosh, of the gum-shoe tread, shuffled courses dextrously. An +under-steward assisted in the presentation of the viands, another +manipulated dishes in the hidden precincts of the pantry. The service +was swift and noiseless, but not more so than the passage of time. The +hands of the little clock fastened against the forward bulkhead already +stood at quarter after three. + +Mary's eyes, which had been resting on the candidate, turned back to +Varney, and they were shining. "Seriously, Mr. Varney," she said in a +lowered voice--"how could any one possibly be buried in a town where +Mr. Hare is?" + +"Mr. Hare?" + +She nodded. "Because he is so _alive_! Why just to live in the same town +with him is an inspiration. To be friends with him--well, that is all +you ever need to keep from feeling buried alive! He isn't listening, is +he?" + +"No," said Varney, "he is, I believe, telling the story of the seven fat +men of Kilgore." + +"If you wish to hand bouquets to Pinky for a while," called Mrs. Marne, +aside, "I will see that you are not disturbed, Mary." + +"Thank you, Elsie, but it's your sisterly duty to listen to the story. +Mr. Hare," she presently went on, to Varney, "had a great career ahead +of him in New York--Judge Prentiss told me so--and he kicked it over +without a quiver and came up here where there isn't any glitter or +fireworks, but only plain hard work. Politics is only an incident with +him. No one will ever understand all that he has done for Hunston, +without any thought of return--working with all his heart and his head +and his hands." + +"Ha! Ha!" said Peter down the table. "That reminds me--" + +"You have known him a long time, I suppose?" asked Varney. + +"Yes," she laughed, "but he has known me longer--ever since I was a +very little girl. That is why he calls me by my name, which gives him a +great moral advantage. I call him Mister because I didn't know him when +he was a very little boy. I have figured it all out, and I couldn't +have, because he was thirteen when I was born. Besides, you can't begin +to know people till you have reached a certain age. Can you?" + +"Not to say know, I should think." + +"Say six," said Miss Carstairs. "That's liberal, I think. Well, he was +nineteen _then_, and I never even saw him till seven years afterwards, +anyway. That made him twenty-six, which was much too late. Now he says +that I should call him by his name, but of course I'm not going to do +it." + +"It is hard to change an old habit in a thing like that." + +"Oh, I don't mind the hardness of it. But whoever heard of calling a +Mayor by his first name? Call a Mayor Pinky! The thought is ridiculous. +Isn't it, Mr. Hare?" + +But Hare was engrossed with a conversation of his own, now turned upon +economic lines. + +"Everything in the world that goes up must come down," he was saying +didactically, "except prices. They alone defy the laws of gravity." + +Peter challenged the aphorism, wordily. Mrs. Marne smiled at Mary across +the flower-sweet table. + +"No," answered Hare presently. "Money isn't everything, but it is most. +It makes the mare go; also the nightmare. It talks, it shouts, and in +the only language that needs no interpreter. I may describe it, without +fear of contradiction, as the Esperanto of commerce." + +"Clever, Pinky!" called his sister, derisively. "Confess that you +rehearsed this before a mirror." + +The luncheon ended. If anything had been wanting to prove how agreeable +it had been, it appeared now in the pretty reluctance with which the +ladies rose. There was the customary pushing back of chairs, smoothing +down of garments, recovering of handkerchiefs from beneath the board. +The room and the table were the objects of new compliments, given in +farewell. + +"Who would have dreamed," said Mary, looking back from the door at her +father's perfectly appointed room, "that yachts were as nice as this?" + +"And to think," said Mrs. Marne, "that it was all done by a Mere Man." + +McTosh, the mere man in question, blushed violently behind his deft +hand. + +They stepped up on deck into the shade of a great striped awning, and +loitered along the side, caught by the beauty of the late summer scene. +Sky and water and green wood blended into practised perfectness. The +rippling water was blue as the heavens, which was very blue indeed. The +sun kissed it like a lover. + +"Will some one kindly tell me," demanded Hare, referring to his sister's +remark, "how the superstition arose that men have no taste?" + +"I have read," said Mary idly, her back against the rail, "that it was +invented by the authority who started the slander about women's having +no sense of humor." + +"Why, they haven't, have they?" + +"You're wrong there, Hare," said Peter, out of his fathomless ignorance. +"For my part I think that women are often more amusing than men." + +"Of course, Maginnis, of course. The point is that it never dawns on +them." + +They were strung out along the after deck, a gay and friendly company, +exactly as Varney had pictured them in his thoughts. From the hatch +emerged the stewards, in stately processional, bearing coffee and +cigars, their paraphernalia and appurtenances. Twenty feet away, on the +other side, was to be seen the sailing-master's wife, sitting under +orders, sedate, matronly, knitting a pale blue shawl and giving to the +bright scene an air of indescribable domesticity. + +"Women," said Mrs. Marne to Varney, "have a splendid sense of humor. I +am a woman and I know. True, we keep a tight grip on our wit when we are +with men, because, whatever men may say in moments like these, they do +loathe and despise a comical woman. But when we are alone together--ah, +dearie me, what funny things we do say! Don't we, Mary?" + +Varney, to show himself how cool he was, was lighting a cigarette, and +had just perceived with annoyance that his hand shook. + +"At least," he answered easily, "no man will ever disprove that, since +no man has ever had the pleasure of being present when women are alone +together. I can recommend the Invincibles, Hare." + +Peter, as one sensitive to the duties of host, now begged Mrs. Marne to +let him show her something of the yacht. He mentioned the crew's +quarters and the--er--butler's pantry as points which he particularly +desired to bring to her attention. + +"I'd _love_ to see them! Oh--I must take just one peep before I fly." + +The trio started forward in a whirl of her animated talk, Peter leading +with a dutiful face, Hare strutting solemnly along in the rear. Mary +glanced at Varney. + +"Aren't you going to show me your butler's pantry, too?" + +"Rather!" he said, starting with her up the deck. "But I want you to see +the whole ship, you know, much more thoroughly than Mrs. Marne has time +for--and to take a little spin--" + +He was interrupted by an exaggerated cry from the lady last mentioned, +who, happening to glance down at her watch, had stopped short at the +cabin-hatch in great dismay. + +Now she turned back to Varney crying: "Oh! oh! Mr. Varney, it's _twenty +minutes to four_! I must fly to my Culture _this instant_!" + +At that, for Varney, the little party lost the last traces of its false +good-fellowship and stood out for what it was. Mrs. Marne's hurried +departure slightly dislocated his carefully-laid plans; it was evident +that her brother had no intention of going with her. Over her +unconscious head, his eye caught Peter's in a faint sweep which +indicated the little candidate. + +"Oh--must you, Mrs. Marne?" said Varney, with civil regret. + +"I _must_! I wish--oh, how I wish!--that culture had never been +invented. The world lasted a long time without it, I'm sure. I detest to +eat and run, yet what else can possibly be done by the author of +'_Ideals of Immanuel Kant_'?" + +"It is too bad," said Varney, "but if duty really calls, I suppose there +is nothing for it but to have your boat ready at once." + +"I ought to go, too," said Mary. + +A chorus of protests annihilated the thought. Mrs. Marne declared that +she would never, no, never, forgive herself if she broke up so +delightful a party. It was unanimously decided that the other guests +were to remain long enough to be shown something of the yacht. Mention +of a little spin down the river was once more casually thrown out. + +Events moved swiftly. The gig was manned, waiting. Varney under cover of +issuing orders, found opportunity to say a hurried word to Peter. Mrs. +Marne approached Mary, who was discussing yachts with Hare, to make +adieu. Suddenly the large face of Maginnis loomed over her shoulder. + +"Good-bye, Miss Carstairs--you'll excuse me, won't you?" said he, +briefly. "I--I thought perhaps I'd just walk in with Mrs. Marne." + +Mary repressed an inclination to smile. "Certainly, Mr. Maginnis. +Good-bye. I've enjoyed it a great, great deal." And to Pinkney Hare she +added: "You are going over the yacht with us, of course?" + +Mrs. Marne embarked in a shower of farewells. Peter, however, loitered +at the head of the stairs, and the gig waited at the foot of them. +Varney stood at Miss Carstairs's elbow, cool, smiling, controlling the +situation with entire and easy mastery. + +"It occurs to me, Miss Carstairs," he said, "that I should begin our +tour by showing you our sailing-master's wife, Mrs. Ferguson--decidedly +the cultured member of the ship's household. She reads Shakespeare. She +recites Browning. I dare say that she even sings a little Tennyson. You +would enjoy meeting her, I am sure. Will you step around the other side +for a moment?" + +"How exceedingly interesting," murmured Hare, falling in beside them. +"Years ago, I used to read quite a bit of poetry myself." + +The gig still waited at the foot of the stairs. Mrs. Marne, waving +upward last adieus to Mary and Varney, called: "Do hurry, Mr. Maginnis. +I'm outrageously late." + +But Peter, who had more important matters than Kant on his mind at that +moment, answered in a low, hurried voice: "Don't be alarmed, Mrs. +Marne--but I _must_ see your brother at once about--a critical matter. +Oh, I say, Hare." + +The candidate, now some distance up the deck with the others, stopped +and looked back. + +"May I have a word with you, please?" + +Hare turned, with only a polite show of reluctance to his host and Miss +Carstairs, and drew near. Politics interested him far more than the +staunchest ship that ever sailed. + +Five minutes later when Varney, having launched Miss Carstairs and the +sailing-master's wife upon a strictly innocuous conversation, came +around the deck-house again, neither the candidate nor his sister was +anywhere to be seen. Peter--he who had engaged to accompany the +lady--stood alone on the sunny deck, staring off at the returning gig, +his great hands clenched in his coat-pockets. He met his friend with a +calm face. + +"It's all over but the shouting," he said. "They've just landed. I told +Hare that there was a plot on against your life--which is very likely +true by the way--said he and I must have a conference at once without +alarming Miss Carstairs. I had to draw it pretty strong, you can bet, to +make him go without telling her good-bye." + +"You've got the letters," said Varney hurriedly. "Go to see Mrs. +Carstairs the first thing--make the explanations. Call up Uncle Elbert +and tell him six-thirty for the carriage at the dock. Be sure to explain +to Hare and Mrs. Marne at once--prearranged visit to her father, kept +quiet for--any good reason." + +"Of course," said Peter. "Well, I must hurry along. I promised to +overtake them in the woods. Oh, the lies I've told in this ten minutes!" + +He turned and picked up his hat and cane to go. + +To Varney, the simple act drove home with great force the stark fact +that he was face to face with his business at last. Peter, holding out +his hand to say good-bye, was struck to speculation by the look of that +eye. + +"Well, good luck, Larry!" + +"In heaven's name--what does that mean?" + +"Hanged if I know," said Peter, frankly. "I'll see you in New York--if +not sooner." With which cryptic observation he clattered down the stairs +to the gig. + +Varney beckoned the sailing-master from the quarter-deck. + +"I am returning to New York, as I told you, Ferguson, with the young +lady, Mr. Carstairs's daughter. Start as soon as possible." + +The sailing-master stared at the deck. "Ready at once, sir." + +Mrs. Ferguson's fondness for classical poetry was no part of any stage +make-believe. Varney, having found her the day before sitting on a coil +of rope with Mr. Pope's _Odyssey_ from the ship's library, had conceived +a veneration for her taste. Now, as he drew near them again, she was +telling Mary that though Tennyson was fine for the purty language, it +was really Browning who understood the human heart. And down in the +engine room they had everything ready for the bell. + +"Have you two settled the poets' hash yet?" asked Varney. "I hope you +didn't make the mistake of preferring Tennyson to Browning, Miss +Carstairs? Thank you very much for entertaining our guest so nicely, +Mrs. Ferguson." + +"What a wonder that woman is!" said Mary, looking back at her as they +walked away. "I had thought that I was rather good at liking poetry, but +she leaves me feeling like the dunce at the kindergarten." + +She turned and looked out over the water, caught anew by the shining +landscape. They stood side by side in the shade of the wide low awning. +Half a mile to their left huddled the town, whither the others were +already on their way; a few hundred yards behind them stood the big +white Carstairs house, handsomely cresting the hill. From many miles to +the northward a breeze danced down the river, and played capriciously +over their faces, and so whisked on about its business. All the world +looked smiling and very good. + +Suddenly a bell tinkled. There was a slight splash, a faint rumble and +quiver. + +Varney laughed. "The passion for poetry," said he, "is a curious and +complex thing. Its origin is shrouded in the earliest dawn of +civilization. It appears in man's first instinctive gropings toward +written self-expression--" + +"Why," said Mary, in sudden surprise, "_we are going!"_ + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +CAPTIVATING MARY + +So Elbert Carstairs's dream had come true, and his daughter was going +home to him at his desire. She stood on his yacht, as truly a prisoner +as though she wore a ball and chain; and the beat of the engines, +already gathering speed, was driving her straight toward that dock in +Harlem whither he, within a very short time, would be driving down to +meet her. + +"Going? Of course we are," said Varney. + +He leaned against the rail and, looking at Mary, almost laughed at the +thought of how easy and simple it was. + +"The point of being on a yacht, Miss Carstairs, is to see her go. +Otherwise, one might as well sit in the den at home and look at pictures +of them in the encyclopedia." + +"But I--didn't expect to go," she said, gazing at him doubtfully--"only +to look around a little. I'm really afraid I haven't time for a sail." + +"Well, you know," he said cheerfully, "as far as looking around is +concerned, going doesn't necessarily take any longer than staying. In +one case, you stay and look around: in the other you go and look around. +That is really all the difference, isn't it?" + +"Well, then, it must be a little go and a short look around. Where does +one begin, in looking around a yacht?" + +It would have been plain to a far duller plotter that they should be +fully clear of Hunston before he explained the situation to her more +definitely. + +"Suppose," said Varney, "we begin with a few general remarks of a +descriptive nature. This vessel, Miss Carstairs, is what is known as a +schooner-rigged steam-yacht. She stands a good bit under a hundred tons. +She is ninety feet long, eighteen feet in the beam and she draws ten +feet--" + +"I don't understand a word of that except ninety feet long, but it all +has a perfectly splendid sound! But where can Mr. Hare be? Please send +for him like a good host, and begin back at the beginning again. He just +told me that yachts interested him intensely." + +"But, unfortunately, Mr. Hare is no longer with us." + +"Not with us? Why--did he _get off_?" + +"He certainly did. He and Maginnis are a great pair, aren't they? Not a +minute to give to pleasure or anything of that sort. I believe they +slipped off to Hare's house for another of their eternal private talks." + +"But--" Mary stared astoundedly. "He _said_ he was going around with us! +I asked him and he accepted. And besides," she went on, rolling up the +count against the unhappy candidate, "he's got my parasol!" + +"We detached that from him before he left. It's around on the other +side. I'll send for it at once." + +But her puzzled frown lingered. "I have known Mr. Hare well for six +years," she said, "and this is the first time I ever knew him to do such +an uncivil thing." + +"It wasn't his fault, depend upon it. Maginnis called him back, you +know, and no doubt hauled him off bodily, positively refusing to let him +pause for good-byes. A man of ruthless determination, is Maginnis." + +She glanced up the deck with vague uneasiness, disquieted by the +unexpected situation. Forty feet away sat the sailing-master's wife +still placidly knitting at her pale blue shawl, the perfect portrait of +secure propriety. The sight of her there was somehow reassuring. + +"So is Mr. Hare, I always believed. But never mind. How fast we are +going already!" + +"Yes, the _C_--this yacht goes fast." + +"What is considered fast for a yacht? How long would it take us to get +to New York?" + +"Three hours. Why not go?" + +A white-clad steward noiselessly approached with her parasol. She took +it and smiled at Varney's idle pleasantry. + +"Thank you, I have too many responsibilities this afternoon. First of +all, we--have a guest at home. Then I simply must go to Mrs. Thurston's +to see about some sewing at five. Last obstacle of all--my mamma! What +would she think had happened?" + +"Don't you suppose that she would guess?" + +"Do you think I'm the daughter of a clairvoyant, Mr. Varney? No, she +would not guess. She would simply stand at the front window in a Sister +Ann position all the afternoon, crying her pretty, eyes red. But--this +is a schooner-something steam-yacht, ninety feet long, I believe you +said. What comes after that?" + +They had left the town dock behind and were scudding swiftly. There was +no longer any reason, even any pretext, for waiting. Every pulse of the +_Cypriani's_ machinery was beating into his brain: "Tell her now! Tell +her now!" + +But all at once he found it very hard to speak. + +"There is time enough for that. There is something that I must tell you +first--in fairness to Hare. The fact is that I--I made Peter take him +away because I wanted to be alone with you." + +The crude speech plainly embarrassed her; she became suddenly engrossed +in examining the carved handle of her parasol, as though never in her +life had she seen it before. + +Varney turned abruptly from her and looked out at the flying shore. + +"Last night," said he, "you may remember that you asked me a question. +You asked me why I objected to accepting help from you." + +"Yes, but that was last night," she interrupted, her instinct instantly +warning her away from the topic--"and you didn't tell me, you know! +Really--we must turn around in two minutes, and so I haven't time to +talk about a thing but yachts." + +"I fear that you must find time." + +"Must, Mr. Varney?" + +"Must. This is a matter in which you are directly concerned." + +She faced him in frank wonderment. "Why, what on earth can you mean?" + +"Now you must! Now you must!" sang the _Cypriani's_ staunch little +engines. + +But he made the mistake of looking at her, and this move betrayed him. +There was no doubt of him in her upturned, perplexed face, no shadow of +distrust to give him strength. His earlier dread of this moment, +strangely faded for a while, closed in on him once more with deadly +force. + +"Don't you see that I am trying to tell you and that I am finding +it--hard?" he said quietly. + +There was a moment's silence; then she said hurriedly: "Of course I am +all in the dark as to what you--are talking about--but tell me another +time, won't you? Not now, please. And oh--meantime," she sped on, with +the air of hailing a new topic with acclaim, "I have something to tell +you, Mr. Varney!--mystery seems to be in the air to-day. You _must_ +hear the strange thing that happened to me this morning. I haven't had a +chance to tell you before." + +"Ah, yes! That mysterious warning." + +He clutched at the respite like a drowning man at straws, though no +drowning man would have felt his sudden rush of self-contempt. + +"Who gave it to you, and what was it about?" + +Free of his hidden restraints, she had quite thrown off the +embarrassment which she had felt settling down upon her a moment +before, and laughed lightly and naturally. + +"It was about coming to this beautiful luncheon to-day--about _not_ +coming, I mean--and it was given to me--don't be angry--by Mr. +Higginson, the old man, you know, who helped you last night." + +"Ah!... Mr. Higginson." + +"Tell me!" she said impulsively, her eyes upon his face--"I saw last +night that you distrusted him--_do_ you know anything about him?" + +With an obvious effort he wrenched his thought from his present urgency, +and brought it to focus upon a puzzle which now seemed oddly like an +echo from a distant past. + +"Not yet," he said, with an impassive face. "But I trust--" + +"Oh, I don't like the way you say that! I don't see how you _can_ be so +suspicious of such a patently well-meaning old dear. And yet--" + +"Well, then, tell me what he said to you and convert me." + +"I suppose I must--I have had it on my mind a little, and you have a +right to know. Yet I don't want to at all! For I must say it seems just +a little to--to support your view. Well, then," she said, some +perplexity showing beneath her smile, "it happened about eleven o'clock +this morning as I was going down the street to see Elsie Marne--never +dreaming of mysteries. I met Mr. Higginson walking towards our house, +and we stopped, so I thought, for a friendly word. For he and I made +friends last night. Oh, you have a right to think I am too free, too +easy, in the way I--I make friends with strangers, and yet really +this--is not like me at all. And there is something very winning about +this old man. Well, he asked me point-blank--begged me--not to come to +your lunch-party to-day. What have you to say to that?" + +He continued to look at her as from a distance, not answering her little +laugh. Behind the grave mask of his face he cursed himself heartily for +his self-absorption of the morning, which had led him entirely to lose +sight of Mr. Higginson's activities last night. He had fully meant to +search out that "winning" old man on his excursion to the town, but in +his engrossment over the more important duty of the day, the matter had +dropped completely from his mind. That the old spy had somehow ferreted +out their secret was now too plain to admit a doubt. But what +conceivable use did he mean to make of it? To interfere with the +_Cypriani's_ homegoing was beyond his power now. Did it better suit his +mysterious purpose to hold back until the thing was done, in order to +raise the dogs of scandal afterwards?... + +For the moment his mind attacked the problem with curiously little +spirit; but one thing at least was instantly clear. He must return to +Hunston to-night, by the first train after his arrival in New York, find +Higginson and call him to his well-earned reckoning. Meantime ... here +was this girl, this daughter of Uncle Elbert, whom the old sneak had for +the second time failed to bend to his mean uses.... + +"But what reason," he said mechanically, "did he give for his rather +unusual request?" + +"He wouldn't give any! That's what makes it all so ridiculous--don't you +see? Naturally I asked, but he only said in his nervous apologetic way +that he wasn't at liberty to tell, but that after last night I ought to +consider whether you--your surroundings were likely to be quite safe. I +said: 'But oughtn't you to give me some idea and, if there is any +danger, warn Mr. Varney and Mr. Maginnis? You can't mean that there is +another plot, involving the yacht this time--the likelihood of a naval +battle on the Hudson?' And then he wrung his hands and said that he +couldn't tell me what he meant, but that I'd certainly regret it if I +came. There! Oh, I _know_ he thought he was doing somebody a +kindness--you and me both, I believe! And yet--that was just a little +creepy, wasn't it?" + +He made no answer to this; hardly heard what she said. Mr. Higginson, +his works and ways, had once more slipped wholly from his mind. +Something in the look of her face, its young trustfulness, its utter +lack of suspicion, had already laid paralyzing hold upon him. Now a new +thought possessed him; and all at once his breast was in a tumult. + +"And yet," he said, with sudden fierce exultation, "_you came_!" + +She colored slightly under his look and tone and, to cover it, gave a +light laugh. + +"Oh, yes.. dauntless person that I am! Have you the remotest idea what +he was talking about?... But oh, really we must turn around now! Indeed +we must--I hadn't noticed how far we have come. And you can show me +things as we go back, can't you?" + +He started at her speech; asked himself suddenly and wildly what was +wrong with him. A better opening for his crushing announcement could not +have been desired. Yet he stood dumb as a man of stone. One blurted +phrase would commit him irrevocably, but his lips would not say it. And +he was glad. + +He stared over the water thinking desperately what this might mean. + +In that first meeting, radiant as it had somehow seemed to him, he knew +that, given this chance, he could have carried his business through +without a quiver. Even last night when, he thought, things to make it +harder had piled one on another like Ossa on Pelion, it would not have +been impossible. Now his lips appeared sealed by a new and overwhelming +reluctance; a resistless weakness saturated him through and through, +seducing his will, filching away his very voice. + +The _Cypriani_ rattled and wheezed, and her speed sharply slackened, but +he did not notice it. His mind fastened on the stark fact of his +impotence like a key in a lock: his heart leapt up to meet it. He turned +slowly and looked at her. + +She leaned lightly upon the rail, her eyes on the water, her lashes on +her cheek like a silken veil. At her breast nodded his favor, the +_Cypriani's_ perfect rose. In her youth, her beauty, and, most of all, +her innocent helplessness, there was something indescribably wistful, +indescribably compelling: it sprang at him and possessed him. Even in +permitting him her acquaintance, she had trusted him far past what he +had any right to expect; and now, with his own sickening game at the +touch, she gave this crowning proof of confidence in him--dashing it +full in the face of the whispering and hinting Higginson, full in his +own face too. Could anything in all the world matter beside the fact +that this girl believed in him, that she had trusted him not only +against convention, not only against his cowardly enemy, but last and +biggest, _against himself?_ + +And she should not be disappointed. His pledge to her father was a +Jephthah's oath, honorable only in the breaking. His mission, all his +hours in Hunston, took changed shape before the eye of his whirling +mind, monstrous, accusing, unbelievably base. Reward that trust with +treachery, that faith with betrayal? Never while he lived. + +Out of his turmoil came peace and light, flooding the far reaches of his +soul. + +In crises thought moves with the speed of light. The young man's mental +revolution was over and done with in a second's time; the pause was +infinitesimal. Almost as she finished her last remark, Mr. Carstairs's +daughter turned from the rail and took a step forward upon the deck, as +though to jog her host toward that promised tour of the yacht which had +now flagged so long. + +"I thought you ought to know this," she was saying, apparently quite +unaware of his descent into the psychological deeps, "though perhaps you +will think it not worth repeating. But before we go on, do tell me +--won't you?--is Mr. Higginson merely--_seeing things_--a sort of +he-Cassandra, you know--or really do you think there is any danger?" + +"No!" answered Varney, so promptly as to give the air of having waited +long for just that question. "There is no danger now, thank God!" + +A heavy step sounded near, approaching. Starting to speak, he broke off, +turned and saw the sailing-master coming towards him. Over the +intervening stretch of deck the two men looked at each other, the master +nervously, Varney victoriously. + +It was one of those critical moments whose importance no one can gauge +until after the time for guaging is past. However, as it fell out, it +was the master who spoke first. + +"Very sorry, sir, indeed," he began, with a curiously uneasy and +hang-dog expression. "The gear's broke down again--in another place. +Couldn't possibly have been foreseen, sir. We can--hem--manage to beat +about without any trouble, but I fear it would not be safe to try to +push on to New York." + +"To New York!" said Mary Carstairs, looking at Varney and laughing at +the man's stupidity. "It certainly would not be safe at all!" + +Even the furtive-glancing sailing-master was conscious of the tide of +gladness that had broken into his young master's eyes. + +"_Put about this instant, man_!" he cried imperiously. "Miss Carstairs +wishes to return to Hunston as soon as possible." + +"Right, sir," stammered the astonished Ferguson, backing away. "At once, +sir." + +Varney met the man's amazement steadily, laughed into it, and so turned +again to his old friend's daughter. She was conscious of thinking that +this was the first _happy_ smile she had seen on his face since the +night when he lit the lamp at Mr. Stanhope's. + +"He seemed nearly stupefied because you weren't going to scold him, did +you notice? I wonder if you are usually very cross with him. But on with +our sightseeing! What is the name of this such-and-such a kind of +steam-yacht?" + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, struggling against his sudden exaltation +for calmness and self-control--"we are both conscious that I owe you an +explanation for--for what of course you must think my very extraordinary +behavior. Believe me, you shall have it very soon. There is nothing in +the wide world--ah--that is, I'd like very much to give it to you now. +But--no, no--it wouldn't be quite right--no--not fair--" + +"You think I am eaten up with feminine curiosity about Mr. Higginson!" +she said, a little hastily. "Oh, I'll show you. Look! Look! We're +turning around already." + +"Don't look there. Look in this general direction now and then, and tell +me what you see." + +"I see," she said, looking anywhere but at him, "the strangest, the +most _volatile_ and--_not_ excepting Mr. Higginson--the most +_mysterious_ man in Hollaston County!" + +"Where are your eyes, Miss Carstairs? You are standing within two feet +of the happiest man in America, and you don't even know it." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +IN WHICH MR. HIGGINSON AND THE SAILING-MASTER BOTH MERIT PUNISHMENT, AND +BOTH ESCAPE IT + +Passing the town-wharf laggingly like the maimed thing she was, limping +nearer and nearer the spot whence she had set out three-quarters of an +hour before, Mr. Carstairs's _Cypriani_ slowed down at an abandoned +private landing--the same one by which Peter's trunk had been conveyed +ashore that morning--and ran out her stairs. + +As the two on board stood watching the yacht make fast, conversing, if +the truth be known, somewhat disjointedly, they were astonished to see +the great form of a man rise from a grassy bed a little way back from +the river-bank and advance towards them. + +"Why, look!" said Mary. "There's Mr. Maginnis! I thought he'd gone to +town long ago." + +Varney did not answer her. His eyes were glued upon Maginnis, and he +called in a strange voice: + +"You have been waiting for us." + +"Haven't budged a step," answered Peter, moving out upon the landing. +And he added what seemed an odd remark to Miss Carstairs: "I knew you +were coming back." + +He greeted Mary at the foot of the stairs, cordially, and begged the +privilege of escorting her to any destination it might be her fancy to +name. But she stoutly declined his good offices, as she had Varney's a +moment before, declaring that she could not think of troubling so busy +and important a man. + +"But where did you spirit Mr. Hare off to, if I might ask?" she said. + +"On a very important mission I assure you, madam,--that is, Miss +Carstairs," said Peter, diplomatically, having no idea how matters +stood. "He begged me to let him go back and say good-bye to you, but I +told him I'd make it a personal matter." + +"I am awfully glad that you have stopped calling me 'madam,'" said Mary, +rather inconsequently. "I _did_ hate it so!" + +And she walked off up the woodland path, swinging her recovered parasol, +and finding herself with a good deal to think about. + +Peter, coming on deck, found his friend waiting for him, taut as a +whipcord. + +"Well, old horse!" said Maginnis. "Welcome back to jolly little +Hunston." + +"The machinery broke down on me," said Varney, turning away to light a +cigarette. + +"Sure," said Peter cheerfully. "You knew it was going to do it when you +started. I read it in your eye when we said farewell forever." + +"You are quite mistaken," said Varney. "Ask Ferguson." + +"Oh! Then you'll do it to-morrow morning, when the machinery is all +right again?" + +"No," said Varney, "nor at any other time." + +The two men looked at each other steadily, unwinkingly. As the look +lengthened, each face gave way to a slow reluctant smile. + +"I won't pretend," said Peter, "that I am disappointed in you. I never +dreamed that I hated this thing till the time came, and hang me if I +don't rather like that little girl." + +"It was a thing," said Varney, "that simply couldn't be done. We were a +pair of asses not to see that all along." He glanced hurriedly at his +watch and started for the companionway. "Jove! I'll have to hustle." + +"Hustle! Where the devil to?" + +"I'm off to New York by the five o'clock train to tell Uncle Elbert that +I've resigned. I'll feel mighty mean doing it, too." + +"Well, don't anticipate trouble," called Peter dryly. "You can't feel +mean by the five o'clock train, however much you may deserve--" + +"Why not?" + +"There isn't any. She goes through at four-seven. You'll have to compose +yourself to wait till eight-ten, unless you want to walk." + +Varney halted at the head of the companionway, surprisingly +disappointed. From the moment when the _Cypriani_ had put about, he had +been insistently conscious that his first duty now was to see Mr. +Carstairs, beg absolution from his promise, and formally surrender his +commission. So only, he had felt, could he go on with clean hands. + +"Well, don't look so glum over it," said Peter. "You're not any sorrier +about your prolonged stay in our midst than I am." + +Varney turned an inquiring eye upon him, and he began walking rather +restlessly up and down the deck. + +"Oh, this same old rot!" he broke out impatiently. "I'll never be easy +in my mind till you are back in New York, and _stay_ there--" + +"Well, well, Peter! Stick it out for three hours more--" + +"Not long after you and Miss Carstairs steamed off," continued Peter, +"Hare blew back down here, tired of waiting and a little excited. He had +just heard some passing whispers about you and me. He says there seems +to be a little suppressed excitement in town this afternoon." + +"Why, I thought your paper had kicked all that nonsense into a cocked +hat." + +"A lot of people don't believe the paper, though," said Peter. "On the +contrary they believe that you are Stanhope and that you bought the +_Gazette_ to disown yourself and save your hide. A foolish idea, but it +has doubtless been helped out by whispers from higher up. Smith's +selling out has made Ryan see red. Smith's still in town, by the way, +which argues a good deal of cool nerve on his part. Hare hears that Ryan +is in a murdering humor--" + +"You seem to forget entirely that Stanhope--the real, the genuine, +double-extry-guaranteed--has appeared, to bear his own--" + +"But Hunston doesn't know it yet!" exclaimed Peter. "Kindly get that +well into your head. All these Hackleys and Orricks still think that +you're their meat--Where're you going?" + +Varney, pausing at the hatch, deliberated whether he should say anything +to Peter about Mr. Higginson's latest and most daring intrusion, and +declared for the negative. "There's no reason," he mused, "why I should +let him in on this. And besides--" + +"To town," he said aloud. "I've got to send a telegram to Uncle Elbert. +He's very much on my conscience--poor old chap!" + +"I'll go with you. Got a Reform Committee meeting at five-thirty. And +some other business." + +But Varney had already disappeared below. Peter picked up his splendid +guitar and, sprawling upon the transom, gave himself up to soft humming +and, presently, to the work of composition. Soon, after some little +painstaking effort, he produced the following, to be rendered to the +tune of "Yankee Doodle": + + The tale of crime is at an end, + For little Laurence Va-arney + Declines to swipe his loidy friend + Upon the _Cypria-a-ani_! + +Peter tried this over to himself with considerable satisfaction. He +possessed a remarkably sweet tenor and pleasurably anticipated singing +his ditty to its hero, and doubtless getting a cushion pitched at his +head for his pains. But it happened that Varney was to go to his grave +without ever hearing that small chanson. + +He came on deck again in five minutes with a face which drove all +thoughts of melody from Peter's head. In fact, at sight of it, he came +instantly to a sitting position and his guitar slid unheeded to the +floor. + +"What's happened?" + +Varney did not answer immediately. He stood at the rail and stared into +the woods with fixed eyes which saw nothing. Peter rose and came towards +him. + +"Out with it!" he said encouragingly. "I'm full partner here. You want +to murder somebody. Well and good! Now who is it?" + +Varney turned towards him, half-reluctantly, and spoke in a quiet voice. + +"I told you just now that the machinery broke down. I was mistaken. It +was broken down." + +"_Broken down?_" + +"When I went below," continued the younger man, "it occurred to me to +look in the engine-room and see how bad the damage was. It was very bad +indeed. I'm no mechanic, Lord knows, but a child could make no mistake +here. The effect is about as if somebody had jammed a crowbar in the +works while she was running full-tilt. Probably that is just what +somebody did. It'll be some days before she'll run again." + +Peter's bewilderment deepened. "What in the world does this mean?" + +"Treachery," said Varney calmly. "Somebody on board has been bought." + +The two men stared at each other. Varney read on Peter's face the swift +unfolding of precisely his own thought. He was rather surprised at +Peter's quickness, in view of the fact that he knew nothing of the +episode of the morning. + +"Yes," he said. "That's the man." + +He told concisely of Mr. Higginson's attempt to break up the lunch-party +by keeping the guest of honor away. Peter's face, as he listened, +underwent a curious change. It first slowly gained color, then slowly +lost it; and all of it, from the top of his forehead to the end of his +chin, seemed subtly to contract and tighten up. + +His comment at the end was: "Excuse me a minute." + +Upon which he vanished below to see with his own eyes and judge with his +own brain. He was back in less than two minutes, with a tiny spot of red +in the corner of his eye, and his manner unwontedly calm. + +"You're right. Pretty clumsy treachery that," he said, standing and +staring at Varney, who had dropped into a chair. "What was the man +thinking about to ... I don't begin to see bottom on this." + +Varney's eyes were on the sailing-master, who sat far forward, feet on +the rail, apparently engrossed in a magazine. The young man had just +recalled the master's curious manner when he notified him of the +accident to the machinery. + +"Larry--you meant to turn around anyway?" + +"But Higginson, you see, couldn't predict that." + +"The immediate cause of your turning--" + +"Was the little mishap to our gear." + +He raised his voice: "Ferguson! I'd like a word with you if you please." + +The sailing-master jumped at the sound of the voice as though it had +shot a projectile into his back. However, he rose at once and came +forward in his usual, brisk, stiff way, halting before the two men with +a salute. Varney eyed him inscrutably. + +"I believe you were in town for a while this morning, Ferguson?" + +"Yes, sir, I was." + +"While there did you chance to see anything of an elderly gentleman, a +stranger here, by the name of Higginson?" + +Though he had the look of being braced for trouble, the man changed +color at the direct question, and his eyes instantly shifted. With an +evident effort he recaptured something like his usual steadiness and +spoke in a voice of elaborate thought fulness. + +"Higginson? No, sir. I know no one of that name." + +"Ah? I thought not. I asked on the mere chance. And oh, Ferguson." + +"Sir?" + +"I have just been down to look at the damaged machinery. Ignorant of +these matters myself, I can naturally make little of it. You will +prepare a written report for Mr. Carstairs, explaining in detail the +nature of the accident, and in particular just how it took place." + +"Very good, sir." + +"And--oh, Ferguson." + +"Yes, sir?" + +"As the--er--mishap appears to be so serious, I think it best to have an +expert from town advise with me before the work of repairing begins. You +will therefore leave matters just as they are until I instruct you +otherwise." + +"Oh--very good, sir." + +Peter turned his dissatisfied eyes from the back of the retreating +sailing-master to Varney. + +"What better proof d'you want than the rogue's face? Why didn't you fire +him on the spot?" + +"I neither hire nor fire here," said Varney. "These are Mr. Carstairs's +employees. He will have to deal with them as he thinks best." + +He rose immediately and put on his hat. + +"With Mr. Higginson, however," he mused, starting for the stair, "the +case is altogether different." + +"Exactly," said Peter with great heartiness. + +As one man they descended the stairs, crossed the battered landing and +struck rapidly up the woodland path for Remsen Street and the town. As +they walked, Varney silently condemned the unfailing genius of the Irish +for intruding themselves into all the trouble that hove upon the +horizon. It was with acute pleasure that he recalled, before long, his +friend's engagement for half-past five. For he himself had but three +hours left in Hunston that day, and he had an urgent use for +them--beyond even Mr. Higginson. + +"I confess once more," said Peter, tramping heavily, "that this chap is +too many for me. I don't seem to grasp his game." + +"And you call yourself a conspirator, Peter! Why, this is ABC." + +"All right. I'm listening. Spell it out for me." + +"Suppose the gang here is deep enough, as you think, to plan a little +rough-house, ostensibly for my benefit, but really to get you into it +and thus wipe you out. Doesn't it occur to you that my fading away to +New York at the critical moment would rather knock the bottom out of the +scheme? Why, it's as clear as noonday! Higginson, learning somehow that +I expected to fly off immediately after the lunch-party, first tries to +break up the party, and failing that, he bribes Ferguson to break up the +machinery. Thus he hopes to make it impossible for me to get away--me +whom he needs in his business as the red rag for his little old mob." + +They had emerged from the woods and walked a block up Remsen Street +before Peter replied. + +"By Jove! That does seem to explain everything! That's it! It's +Higginson, not Smith, who has been pulling all these wires from the +beginning. I suspected the man the first minute I ever clapped eyes on +him. But where do you suppose he got his hint?" + +"Hammerton?" + +"Never. That boy is trustworthy, or I'll eat my hat." + +"Well, I think so too. Then he simply corrupted Ferguson and wormed the +whole thing out of him. Pretty clever, the whole thing, wasn't it? How +much Ferguson may really know, or suspect, I have no idea. Of course, +there is only one thing to fear now, and that is scareheads in the New +York papers to-morrow--attempted kidnapping foiled, and so on. It would +break Uncle Elbert's heart if anything of that sort should come out--" + +"Don't you worry. It won't. I'll close his trap--tight." + +Once more Varney was slightly annoyed by Peter's presence. + +"If we find him," he began, as they came to the square, "you--" + +"We must try not to be brutal, Larry," warned Peter soberly. "I remind +myself that he is an elderly man--" + +"If we find him," began Varney again, "you will please remember that he +belongs to me. Higginson is strictly my pickings." + +Peter grunted, looking rather annoyed too. + +They crossed the square, two determined-looking men, and entered the +Palace Hotel. Behind the desk a bored clerk sat paring his nails with a +pair of office scissors. He looked up with a certain resentfulness. + +"Excuse my interruption," said Varney. "Is Mr. Higginson in?" + +The clerk's glance lowered tiredly. "Naw. Left town on the four-seven." + +"I don't believe it," said Peter instantly. + +There followed a silence. So stern were the gazes fastened upon the +clerk that, looking hastily up at Peter's word, he promptly lost +something of his lordly demeanor and became for the moment almost human. + +"Well, sir, he's left _us_. _Said_ he was takin' the four-seven." + +"Where did he go?" demanded Varney. + +"Don't know, sir, but I think to New York." + +"You must know where he checked his baggage to." + +"Didn't have any baggage, sir," protested the clerk. "Only his +suit-case." + +"Did he leave no address for the forwarding of his mail?" + +"Naw, sir. He did not." + +"Of course not. Why on earth should he?" said Peter. + +Desisting from the absent but fierce stare with which he was transfixing +the clerk, he drew Varney hurriedly aside. + +"All bluff!" he stated positively. "Is it likely, after _his_ day's +work, that he'd be lolling around the lobby waiting for us to call? He's +_moved_! But depend on it, he's got more work to do, and he _hasn't left +town_!" + +"If that's so, where do you recommend looking?" + +Peter made a large gesture. "That's a horse of another color. I told you +he had a faculty for disappearing into a hole and pulling the hole in +after him. If anybody besides Ryan knows where he is, I should say that +it might be Miss Carstairs. She seems to be his only friend on our side +of the fence, since I tipped Hare off." + +Varney all but jumped. "I'll ask her!" he offered almost precipitately. +"The very thing!" + +"It is quite possible," continued Peter, tensely thoughtful, "that the +old rascal has sneaked to her since the luncheon, to try to pump +something out of her about our movements--even within the bounds of +possibility that he is with her at this moment--" + +"A great suggestion!" said Varney cordially. "You certainly have a head +on you, Peter. Of course, on the other hand, it is quite possible that +he _has_ skipped--made a bee-line for Newspaper Row. In that case, I'll +see if she--Miss Carstairs, you know--if she knows his address in New +York, and I'll hunt him up to-night." + +Peter, glancing at his watch, discovered that he was already fifteen +minutes late for his committee meeting. + +"For this afternoon, then," he said, unwillingly, "you can have him, if +you can find him. After to-day, though, he belongs to me. Wherever he is +now, he'll certainly be back on the job to-morrow. Well--I'll leave you, +then. Er--Larry. It's just as well not to be prowling around after dark +by yourself, you know. I'll be back at the yacht early and we'll have +dinner together before your train. Say six-thirty, eh?" + +"I'll be there." + +Peter hurried off for Hare's house with a mingled sense of unjustly +baffled vengeance and vague uneasiness. Varney, drawing a long breath of +relief, headed for the telegraph office, whence he dispatched the +following telegram to Mr. Carstairs: + + "Plan permanently abandoned. Arrive in New York + by train 9.20 to-night. Expect me ten minutes later." + +That done, he started rapidly down Remsen Street with a steadily +mounting spirit. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +VARNEY, HAVING EMBARKED UPON A CRIME, FINDS OUT THAT THERE IS A PRICE TO +PAY + +There was a fine old hedge of box bordering the Carstairs lawn, old +rosebushes inside it and many flowering shrubs. Splendid oaks curtained +the big white house on either side, shading the expanse of close-clipped +turf. At the left, a fountain-sprayer now whirled a mist of water over +the trim grass, and far to the rear a man in rubber boots was hosing off +a phaeton before a carriage house. On the back porch, an elderly cook +was peeling potatoes and gently crooning some old ballad of Erin. + +It was a serene and reassuring scene. Yet upon the spacious piazza, +which undeniably contributed to the pervading air of all's well, the +stunning information came to Varney that the lady of his quest was not +at home. Nor could the maid at the door say where her young mistress had +gone, or with whom, or when she would return. Possibly Mrs. Carstairs +knew, but Mrs. Carstairs was unwell and could not be disturbed. Miss +Carstairs would be sorry to miss him, the kind-hearted girl opined, and +would he please leave his name? + +The young man descended the steps in a state of the flattest depression. +Disappointment, he reflected bitterly, crowded upon the heels of +disappointment on this anticlimactic afternoon which yet should have +been, in a bigger sense, so gloriously climactic. He had missed his +train, and with it his honorable confession to Mr. Carstairs; missed +Higginson; last and worst of all--it seemed to him now that this was all +that mattered in the least--he had missed Miss Carstairs. In sooth, the +world was all awry. + +But at the gate, a thought came to him, radiant as a heavenly messenger. +Miss Carstairs was at her seamstress's on the Remsen road. Had she not +told him with her own lips that she was to be there at this hour? + +He made a _Te Deum_ of the click of the gate, and turned northward a +face which bore record of an inner splendor. + +He had set out to see Miss Carstairs in order to ask of her if she knew +the whereabouts, in Hunston or New York, of the fair-spoken yet elusive +Higginson. But with every step he found the force of this errand +weakening within him. The memory of that gentleman's villany, so burning +a moment since, grew steadily fainter and more inconsequential. Failing +to locate him, he would of course make a precautionary round of the +newspaper offices in New York that night. At the worst, he told himself +with the swift fading of his anger, there was only a remote risk of any +unpleasant aftermath. Why, the thing was over and done with--let +by-gones be by-gones. As for those other matters supposed to be upon his +mind--hints of approaching trouble for himself, and the knowledge of Mr. +Carstairs's bitter disappointment over the collapse of his all but +triumphant scheme--he could not for the life of him give them any +attention whatever. + +A far nearer and more vital matter was pressing upon his mind and heart. + +To tell her everything at the moment when the yacht had swung back and +he had thrown up his commission forever had been his first strong +impulse. He had crushed it down only because he saw that to speak then +was to take her at an ungenerous disadvantage. Now Fortune had sent him +this new meeting, to be untrammeled by any such restraints. No grim duty +governed his movements now; no consciousness of secret chicanery any +longer enfolded him like a pall. Already the thought of what he had +meant to do came back to him hazily, like the plot of a half-forgotten +play. The hobgoblins in a nightmare seemed not more unreal to him now. +His heart sang with the knowledge that he was to see her again, this +time with no shadow between. + +Two nights' rain had left the road dustless: it was silent and empty. +All about him fell the pleasant evening noises of the wood, but he did +not hear them. As he walked, his mind was rehearsing the whole story of +his coming to Hunston, as he was now free to confess it to Uncle +Elbert's daughter. That she would forgive him he never entertained a +doubt. For he would throw himself wholly on her mercy--telling her +everything, painting himself as blackly as he could--and suing for +pardon only because he had failed. + +But when suddenly he saw her, sooner than he had expected, his polished +and elaborate phrases dropped from his mind as cleanly as had the +recollection of the roguery of Higginson. + +It was at that hour when the skies remember the set sun in a gold and +pink glow. A little kink in the road straightened out under his swift +feet, and a small cottage in a fair-sized lawn jumped out of the woods +into vision, almost upon him. On the small square porch, her back to the +road, stood Miss Carstairs, talking through the open window to some one +in the room beyond. + +Varney, having stopped short at the first sudden sight of her, walked on +very slowly. Her voice came to him distinctly, and now and then he +caught scattering words of what she was saying. She wore her blue dress +of the luncheon and the hat which Mrs. Marne, and others, had so +admired; and she gave him the odd impression of being somehow _older_ +than she had ever seemed before.... Yet she was ten years his junior and +three days ago, at this very hour, he had never so much as laid eyes +upon her. + +"I'll come Saturday morning, then," she was saying, "and you'll +certainly have them ready for me, won't you? Good-bye." + +She turned from the window, came towards the steps. At the top of them, +she saw Varney standing at the gate, not twenty yards away, and stopped +dead. Then she came on down the stairs, down the graveled walk towards +him. + +"I'm going away at eight o'clock," he began without greeting, striving +to make his voice casual. "I went to your house first--and--" + +"You--followed me here?" + +"Yes," he said, unsmiling. "I had to see you before I went--on matters +of business--and--" + +She was nearer to him now: for the first time he could see her eyes. In +them lay a faint shadowiness like the memory of shed tears; but sweeping +over that and blotting it out he saw a look which struck him like a +blow. + +"There is nothing for you to see me about, I think--any more," she said +with a little laugh. "The game is up--isn't that what they say in +melodrama? My mother has told me all about it." + +"Your mother has _told you_!" he echoed stupidly, as one to whom the +words conveyed no meaning. + +"She had not expected to see me so soon again, when I went off to lunch +on my father's yacht. The surprise was a little too much for her. You +must try to forgive her," said Mary, and punctuated the observation with +a small, final bow. "Will you open the gate for me?" + +"No," said Varney, pulling himself sharply together. "Not like that." + +The shock of her voice and look, even more than her words, had been +stunning in their first unexpectedness. But now he remembered, with +infinite relief, that of course she did not understand the matter at +all; of course she would speak and look very differently when he had +made his explanation. + +"You think," Varney said, "that I _mind_ your knowing about our poor +little plot--that I am found out and my plans are all upset? How on +earth could you think that? Why, that's all like something in another +life. Don't you know what my being here at this moment means? The thing +is all over, Miss Carstairs--all past and done with an hour before you +ever saw your mother. I gave it up voluntarily. When the time came, just +now on the yacht, I found out that it was impossible--unthinkable--I +couldn't do it. The game was up then. That is one thing that your mother +could not tell you, and it was to tell you this, and all the rest of it, +that I followed you here." + +She stood on the other side of the gate, hardly an arm's length from +him, looking at him; a figure so pretty, so dainty, so extremely +decorative that she seemed incapable of giving anything but pleasure. +But in the eyes that met his own so unwaveringly, he read at once the +contradiction of this. + +"Yes, I suppose that would always be the way, wouldn't it?--that +whenever I found out, you were just going to tell me?" + +If she had searched her mind for a way to strangle his headlong +self-defence, she could not possibly have done it more effectually. +There followed a horrible pause. + +"You mean ... that you do not believe me?" + +"In the little while that I have known you, have you given me much +reason to?" + +"Can't you see that that is exactly the reason I wanted to tell you all +the truth now?" + +"Why did you wait till _now_? Weren't there chances to tell me this +afternoon on my father's yacht? But--there's no use to speak of all +this. It is enough that I know it now." + +He was aware that her voice had lost that hard and polished lightness +with which she had first struck at him; on this last sentence, he +thought that it trembled a little; and in a flash, he saw the whole +matter from her side of it, and for the moment ceased to think about +himself. + +He leaned his arms upon the green panel of the gate and looked down at +her. + +"Don't think that I blame you for not taking my word. Probably I +couldn't expect it. We can't very well argue about that.... And of +course I have known all along--how you would feel about me, when you +found out what I came here to do. I was ready for that--ready for you to +be angry. But I don't seem to have taken it in that you would be ... +hurt. That makes it a good deal worse." + +She made no reply. She had lowered her heavy-fringed eyes; her slim, +gloved hands were busily furling and unfurling her white parasol. + +"There is nothing in this that need hurt you. Believe me in this, at any +rate. Only three people are concerned in it. You will have no doubt of +your mother. That she told you shows how impossible it was to her, even +with Uncle Elbert wanting you so much. You will not mind about your +father--not in any personal way. He is a stranger to you. That leaves +only me." + +Still she said nothing. It seemed to him that he had never looked at so +still a face. + +"For me, I might make you angry as any--acquaintance might--any +stranger. But that is all. It is not ... as if we had been friends." + +She raised her eyes, and the look in them seemed to give the lie to +every word he had said. + +"What do you call a friend? Did I not trust you--put myself in your +power--fall confidingly in with your hateful plot--after I had been +plainly warned not to? Oh, if I had only listened to Mr. Higginson, I +should not have the humiliation of remembering that--hour on the yacht!" + +The name stung him into instant recollection. He stood staring at her, +and his face darkened. + +In the first staggering revelation of her look, his sub-conscious mind +had leapt instantly to the conclusion that his cunning enemy, having +found out his secret, had betrayed it to Miss. Carstairs. Her first +words had disposed of that. It was the tortured mother, not the +professional sneak, who had been before him with his explanation. But +now it rushed over him that he had an infinitely deeper grudge against +the vanished spy. For it was Higginson, with his bribe-money, who had +broken down the yacht; Higginson who would, in any case, have forced the +return to Hunston; Higginson who had given this girl the right to think, +as she did think, that she owed her escape wholly to an "accident" to +the machinery. + +He had thought that he had saved Uncle Elbert's daughter from himself, +and lo, his enemy had plucked the honor from him. The world should not +be big enough for this man to elude his vengeance. + +"You mention Mr. Higginson. Where is he?" + +She glanced at him, impersonally, struck by the unconscious sternness of +his voice. + +"I do not know, but I am most anxious to see him--to thank him--" + +"I am told that he left town at four o'clock. Perhaps you know his +address in New York?" + +"I do not," she answered coldly. "No doubt he went away hurriedly ... +frightened of you because of his kindness to me." + +She came a step forward to the gate. Instantly his thought veered back +to her and his tense face softened. + +"How can I blame you," he said hurriedly, "for thinking the worst of me? +I've been thinking badly enough of myself, God knows. But don't you +know, can't you imagine, that nothing could have held me to the +miserable business a single moment after I saw you, had I not been bound +by a solemn promise to your poor father?" + +"My father! Oh, if he is the sort of man to plot a thing like this, and +to bludgeon my mother into it, how could you endure to _promise_ to do +it for him?" + +"Because he is breaking his heart for you, and you didn't know it. It +seemed right that he should see you, since he wants to so much." + +All her sense of the wrong he had done her flared up in anger at that. +"How do _you_--_dare_ say what seems right between my father and me? He +is breaking his heart for me, he told you? Did he mention to you that +she had _broken_ hers for him? Don't you suppose that I have had +time--and reasons--to decide which of them I belong to?" + +"All this," he said, "was before I knew you." + +About them hung the stillness of the country and the long empty road. +The woods stirred; a bird called; a portly hare poked his nose through +the brush over the way, and suddenly scuttled off, his white flag up. In +Mrs, Thurston's yard, the quiet was profound. + +"All his life," said Mary Carstairs, "my father has thought about +nothing but himself. I am sorry for him--but he must take the +consequences of that now. If he is lonely, it is his own making. If my +mother has been lonely till it has almost killed her, that is his doing, +too. For you--there was never any place in this. As for me, I owe him +nothing. He must beg my mother's forgiveness before he shall ever get +mine." + +She came forward another half-step and laid her hand upon the gate-latch +with a movement whose definiteness did not escape him. + +"You may take back that answer from me if you wish. And so, good-bye." + +"Not good-bye," said Varney, instantly. "You must not say that." + +"I am quite sure that I have nothing else left to say." + +Her eyes went past him over the gate, out into the wood beyond. Dusk was +falling about them; it shaded her face, intangibly altered it, made it +for the moment almost as he had known it before. She looked very young, +and tired. This was the picture of her, and he knew it then as he looked +at her, that he would carry with him to the longest day he lived. + +"Is it nothing to you," he cried in a rush, "that when the time came I +couldn't do it? The yacht's breaking down had nothing in the world to do +with it. I had already decided to turn back, to break my promise. That +the--accident happened just then was only a wretched chance. I was going +to put about at that moment." + +She hesitated almost imperceptibly, seemed for a brief second to waver. +But perhaps she dared not let herself believe him now: perhaps the +strongest wish of her heart was to hurt him as deeply as she could. + +"To say the least," she said with a little deliberate movement of +distaste, "your coincidences are unfortunate. You--won't mind if I go on +being grateful to the--_gear_?" + +Under that crowning taunt, his self-restraint snapped like an +overstretched bow-string. + +"You shall not say that. You shall not. Miss Carstairs, you _know_ I +could have kept you on the yacht if I had wanted to. You _know_ how I +gave the order to put about and bring you back to Hunston. Did I look in +the least then like a man whose hopes and plans had been ruined? You +know I did not. You know I said to you that I--I was the happiest man in +America. Will you tell me what on earth that could mean--except that I +had decided to give up a thing that has been a millstone around my neck +ever since--I met you?" + +She made no reply, did not look at him. The dusk shadowed her eyes; and +whether her silence meant good or ill he could not tell. + +"You cannot answer, you see. We both know why. You will not be fair to +me, Miss Carstairs. It is that night in the Academy box-office over +again. Because I _had_ to deceive you once--not for my own sake--you +will not look at the plain facts. But in your heart--just like that +other night--_I know you believe me."_ + +Of course she could not let that pass now. "I do not!" she said. "I do +not. I must ask you, please, not to keep me here any longer." + +Varney's face went a shade paler. Arguing about his own veracity was +even less bearable than he had thought; his manner all at once became +singularly quiet. + +"The merest moment, if you will. I can prove what I say," he answered +slowly, "but of course I won't do that. You must believe what _I_ say, +believe _me_. Nothing else matters but that.... Don't you know that it +took a very strong reason to make me break faith with my old friend, +your father--to make me stand here begging to be believed, like this? +You have only to look at me, I think. Don't you know that I couldn't +possibly deceive you now ... after what has happened to me?" + +"I don't know what you mean. I don't understand. Don't tell me. Nothing +has happened ..." + +"Everything has happened," he said still more quietly. "I've fallen +crazily in love with you." + +She did not lift her eyes; neither moved nor spoke; gave no sign that +she had heard. He went on slowly: + +"This--might be hard to believe, except that it must be so easy to see. +I've known you less than three days, and I never wanted to--even like +you. My one idea was to think of you as my enemy. That was what Maginnis +and I agreed--plotting together like a pair of nihilists. It all seems +so preposterous now. Everything was against me from the beginning. I +wouldn't face it till to-day, this afternoon. Then it all came over me +in a rush, and, of course, your happiness became a great deal more to me +than your father's. So we turned around, and it was then that I told you +how happy I was. Didn't you know then what I meant? Of course it was +because I had just found out ... how you were the one person in the +world who mattered to me." + +There was a long silence. It deepened, grew harder to break. Little +Jenny Thurston, watching these two through an upstairs shutter, marveled +what adults found to say to each other in these interminable colloquies. +A young cock-sparrow, piqued by their stillness, alighted on the fence +near by and studied them, eye cocked inquisitively. + +"Of course, I'm not--asking anything," said Varney. "About this, I mean. +I am answered, and over-answered, already. But ... do you believe now +that I--voluntarily gave it up?" + +"Oh," said Mary, "you--you must not ask me that. You must not talk to me +like this. I did trust you once--fully--when you were almost a stranger; +last night--and then this afternoon--" + +"Do you believe me," said Varney, "or do you not?" + +Her lower lip was trembling very slightly, and she set her white teeth +upon it. The sudden knowledge that she was near to tears terrified her, +goaded her to lengths. She gathered all her pride of opinion and young +sense of wrong and frightened feminine instinct, for a final desperate +stand; and so flung at him more passionately than she knew: "How many +times must I tell you? _I do not! I do not_!" + +Varney gave her a last look, stamping her face upon his mind, and took a +step backward from the gate. + +"Then," said he ... "this is good-bye, indeed." + +Presently Mary raised her eyes. He had turned southward, toward the +town, but at a pace so swift that he was already far down the road. A +jutting curve came soon, and he vanished behind it, out of her sight. + +Dusk was falling fast on the wood now. The green of the trees deepened +and blackened, turning into a crooked smudge upon the sky-line. The road +fell between them like a long gray ribbon. Nothing was to be seen upon +it; nothing was to be heard but the rustle of the early night wind and +the pleasant sounds of the open road. + +Varney's mind as he walked, was a blank white wall. He had forgotten +Elbert Carstairs, forgotten the train he was to take, forgotten even the +unendurable injury that Higginson had put upon him. His one blind +instinct had been to get away as quickly and completely as possible. But +now, slowly, it was borne in upon him that he knew this road, that he +had walked it once before like this, at the end of the day. His first +night in Hunston--he remembered it all very well. It must have been +just here--or here--that the rain had caught him, and he had gone on to +meet _her_. + +The cottage which had sheltered them that night must be close at hand. +His eyes, which had been upon the ground, lifted and went off down the +road. They fell upon the dark figure of a man, shuffling slowly along in +the gloom, not twenty yards ahead of him. + +He was an old man, shambling and gray-whiskered, and stooped as he +walked. If he was aware that another wayfarer followed close behind, he +gave no sign. Suddenly he stopped short with a feeble exclamation, and +began peering about the ground at his feet. The young man was up with +him directly, and his vague impression of recognition suddenly became +fitted to a name. + +"Orrick?" + +The bowed form straightened and turned. Through the thickening twilight +the two men looked at each other. + +"You were not by any chance waiting for me?" + +The darkness hid old Orrick's eyes; he shook his head slowly a number of +times. "I passed you when you was at Miz Thurston's, sir. I can' walk +fas' like you can." And he bent down over the road again. + +"What's the matter with you?" asked Varney. "Have you lost something?" + +"Los' my luck-piece," said the other, slowly, not looking up. "I was +carryin' it in my hand 's I come along an' it jounced out. A 1812 penny +it was an' vallyble." + +He cut rather a pitiful figure, squatting down in the dirt and +squinting about with short-sighted old eyes; and Varney felt +unaccountably sorry for him. + +"I wouldn' los' my luck-piece for nothin'," he added, dropping to his +knees. "I'm a kind of a stoop'sitious man, an' I allus was." + +"Perhaps I can help you; my eyes are good." + +He went back a step or two, bending down and scrutinizing the brown +earth. Orrick, presently announcing that the coin might have rolled, +made a slow way across the road on his knees, patting the ground with +his hand as he moved. Near the edge of it, half in the woods, lay a +thick piece of split firewood, long as a man's arm and stouter. The +knotted old fingers stealthily closed on it. + +"It could n't have rolled far on this soft road," said Varney presently. +"Just where do you think you dropped it?" + +Sam Orrick rose behind his stooping figure with upraised club, a blaze +of triumph in his sodden old eyes. + +"There!" he cried with a senseless laugh. "It's _there_, Stanhope!" + +The club fell with a thud; and Varney, meeting it as he straightened up, +toppled over like a log, face downward. + +Old Orrick stared down at the prostrate figure, and presently touched it +with his tattered foot. It did not stir. His fierce joy died. He looked +about him apprehensively, and his eye fell at once upon a dim-lit +cottage off the road just back of him. _His_ cottage--how had he +forgotten that? Was that dark thing--a man--standing there at the gate? +Suddenly a great terror seized the old man. He threw his stick into the +woods and slunk away, toward the town. A loud yell from behind brought +his heart to his throat, and he broke into a wild, lumbering run. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +MR. FERRIS STANHOPE MEETS HIS DOUBLE; AND LETS THE DOUBLE MEET +EVERYTHING ELSE + + +In the new-made study of his Remsen road cottage, Ferris Stanhope, +Hunston's returned celebrity, sat under a green-shaded lamp and frowned +down at a sheaf of his own neat manuscript. Behind him, in a corner, +books and various knick-knacks lay spilled over the floor around an open +trunk. The room was, in fact, in the litter incident to getting to +rights. But this did not act as a stay on the great man's habit of +industry, which happened to be of the most persistent variety. + +The study blinds were drawn, and the rest of the house was in darkness. +The author noted three emendations upon his manuscript, made three more. +Then, with a muttered exclamation, he stripped off the interlined sheet +altogether, tore it into shreds, threw the shreds on the floor and +reached for a pad of white paper. At that moment he became aware of +footsteps and heavy breathing in the hall, and looked up inquiringly. + +His man-servant, Henry, was standing in the doorway, the long limp body +of a man in his arms. + +Mr. Stanhope sprang hurriedly to his feet. In his face the servant saw +that same odd look of fleeting anxiety which he had noted there when +they descended from the train that morning. + +"In the name of heaven--what have you there?" + +"Harskin' your pardon, sir," gasped Henry, staggering into the room, +"I'm honcertain whether 'e 's kilt or not. Struck down from behind by an +old codger with long 'air and gray whiskers. Hi was at the gate--" + +"But what do you mean by hauling the carcass in here? Do you think I'm +running a private morgue?" + +Henry, who had been in his present employment a bare month, came to a +wobbly pause, surprised. The body grew very heavy in his stout arms. Now +the man's head slid off Henry's shoulder and tumbled backwards, hanging +down in the full glow of the lamp. + +"Hi thought, sir--" began the servant with panting dignity. + +"O my God!" said the author suddenly. + +Henry, who had not had a look at his burden, misunderstood. + +"Ghastly sight, hain't it, sir--that bloody gash on 'is 'ead?" + +"Quick! Put him on the sofa.--Now some water." + +The servant, whose limbs were numb from the long carry, obeyed with +alacrity. But returning hurriedly with the water, he was met at the door +by his perverse master, who took the glass from his hands with the curt +announcement that that would do. + +Henry looked as displeased as his subservient position made advisable. +"Hif you please, sir, I have quite a 'and with the hinjured and--" + +"He's only stunned," said his master impatiently. "I 'll attend to him +myself." + +And he banged the door in the servant's face. + +The man lay on the lounge precisely as Henry had happened to place him, +his averted face half buried in the pillows. Investigation showed that +he had no bloody gash on his head: that was Henry's imagination. There +did not, in fact, seem to be a mark on him beyond three small scratches +on his forehead. + +Stanhope put his hand under the chin and turned it toward him, none too +gently. For a full moment he stood motionless, staring down at that +white face so like his own. Then he dipped his hand in the glass, and +splashed a handful of water upon the closed eyes. + +At the first touch of it, the still figure of the injured man stirred +with faint signs of returning consciousness. Far down in a black and +utter void, he sensed the first glimmer of distant light. Slowly, +slowly, the glimmer grew. The silence within gave place to a vast +roaring in his ears and indescribable pain in his head; and the dull +glow which had seemed to him the shining frontier of some far new world +whither he was gratefully journeying, resolved itself into a circle of +greenish light. + +"Drink this," said a soft but peremptory voice. + +He drank, incuriously; and the fiery liquid ran to his head and heart +and shot new life into his dead limbs. But the more his lost strength +came back to his body, the more he was aware of the terrible pain in his +head. It occurred to him vaguely that when once he opened his eyes, +which he would have to do some time, there would be a horrible explosion +and his head would go off like a sky-rocket. + +"You feel better now," asserted rather than inquired the voice. + +"Much. Thanks to you. It's only--my head. Something seems to be wrong +with it, a little." + +"Somebody hit you there with a club, from behind. You remember now, +don't you? Who was it?" + +"I don't know," said Varney wearily. + +"Oh, come! Your head isn't as bad as all that--there's not even a bump +on it. Think a moment. An old man, with long hair and gray whiskers. You +must know who it was." + +Varney pressed his hand upon his racking forehead. "Oh! So it was +he--then. Poor old Orrick." + +The author's face lost something of its color. "Orrick!... What--what +has this fellow got against you?" + +Varney did not answer. The name had started remote memories to working, +and, very slowly, returning comprehension advanced to meet them. He and +old Orrick had been standing together on a woodland road. They were +hunting for something. An 1812 penny and valuable. That was it. Before +that, he had stood a long time near a green gate somewhere, looking at a +pair of dark-blue eyes. He remembered distinctly what merciless eyes +they were, though something in a far corner of his mind recalled that he +had once, oddly enough, associated them with pleasant things. Then, +like one rounding a sharp corner in a driveway, his memory came face to +face with everything; and he turned his head to the wall. + +But there was no escape from that insistent voice, so eager for an +explanation. A hand fell upon his shoulder, shook it almost roughly. +"Don't let yourself drop off again. Here! You want another drink?" + +"No, I'm quite all right now--thank you." + +To prove it, and to make ready to get away where he could be quiet, he +performed the herculean task of opening his eyes. A tall man was bending +over him, an anxious expression on his handsome face. More than the +liquor, more even than the jostling hand upon his shoulder, the look of +that face, so strange yet so familiar, braced Varney to action. + +The two pairs of gray-blue eyes, so oddly matched in tint and shape, +stared into each other steadily. Presently Varney dragged his feet +around to the floor, with difficulty, as was natural to their thousand +tons of weight, and taking hold of a chair pulled himself up on them. He +raised his hands, slowly and cautiously, to his head. Good! It was still +there. The impression that it had left his shoulders and was floating +around in the air a foot or two above them thus turned out to be an +illusion. + +"There!" he heard the author saying briskly. "A little effort was all +you needed, as I thought." + +"That was all. Thank you. You must have pulled me in from the road, +didn't you? It was very kind. You have just arrived in Hunston--I +believe?" + +"I came only this morning," his good Samaritan replied. "In the nick of +time, it seems, to be of assistance. And you?" he added, with a slight +bow. "You are a native here, perhaps?" + +"Do you remember me," asked Varney quietly, "when you were here twelve +years ago?" + +Mr. Stanhope selected a cigarette from a large open box on the table, +lit it carefully, took several long inhalations. "No," he said easily. +"But for that matter, I fear that I remember few of my boyhood +acquaintances in Hunston. But--this man--Orrick, you said?--has there +been bad blood between you two for some time then?" + +"No," said Varney, simply. "He struck me, I believe, because he thought +I was you?" + +"_What_!" cried the author with overdone surprise. + +"I am glad--to meet you so soon after your arrival," continued Varney. +"Some one should tell you that your boyhood acquaintances have longer +memories. You came here for your health, I believe? I think you might do +well to leave for the same reason." + +Stanhope's eyes became little slits behind his trim glasses. "What do +you mean by these extraordinary remarks?" + +Varney, whose brain seemed to have changed into a ball of shooting pains +and brilliant fireworks, endeavored to think out clearly just what he +had meant by his extraordinary remarks. + +"Possibly you think that I resemble you somewhat?" he said, slowly. "A +number of people here seem to hold that view. In fact, they have +mistaken me for you--everybody has. Doubtless you know why they should +feel unkindly towards you. I make myself perfectly clear, do I not? Only +this afternoon I heard that a little party was being gotten together for +my benefit." + +The author dropped his nervous-looking eyes; he tugged uncertainly at +his wisp of a mustache. + +"This thump on the head from poor old Orrick may satisfy them," +continued Varney. "But my idea is that it won't. I think Orrick was +acting independently this afternoon. A kind of free lance, you know. I +think he met me by accident. There's a train to New York at eight-ten," +he added, looking about for his hat. "I believe I'd clear out if I were +you." + +"Something's back of this!" broke out Stanhope suddenly. "Some dirty +scheme--some infamous plot--" + +"Yes, you are right," said Varney with an effort. "There is a plot back +of it. But I don't know that that makes it any better for you--" + +"I insist that you explain yourself at once!" + +"I was just about to. I came here three days ago, a stranger--on a +little stay. A friend who is with me got interested in a reform movement +here. Politics, you understand. The other side to injure him, published +the story that I was you, under an _alias_. Naturally we didn't like +that. We bought the paper just to say that I wasn't. I supposed that had +settled it. It seems I was wrong. You see, a good deal of feeling had +been worked up meantime--" + +"Hello!" exclaimed Stanhope suddenly raising his hand. "What's that?" + +Varney listened. "Men's voices," he said slowly. + +The door flew open and a man whose ordinary impassivity was touched with +a pleasurable excitement stood on the threshold. + +"If you please, sir, there's some rough-looking men just sneaked up on +the lawn. Ten or twelve--sort of a mob-like, Hi should say--" + +"What do they want?" demanded Stanhope in a high voice. + +"No good, sir, I'm thinking," said the servant shaking his head. "I was +at an upstairs window and saw 'em come sneaking up one by one, hentering +at different places. I made a noise not honlike the click of a 'ammer of +a gun, and they took alarm and scattered back. But they hain't gone +away, sir. Not by a long shot they hain't." + +Henry's master leaned against his handsome writing table, his face white +as a sheet. It appeared to be a moment when quick action was rather +important. + +"They'll try the bell first," said Varney. "Lock all the doors and +windows downstairs, my man. Quick! When they ring, open a window +upstairs, and ask what they want." + +Henry recognized the note of competent authority. He assumed, anyway, +that it was the strange gentleman's quarrel they had so fortunately been +let into, and it was only fair that he should manage it. "Very good, +sir," he said and flew. + +"But I'm afraid," added Varney to Stanhope, "there is no doubt what they +want." + +A single quiet footfall sounded on the porch and the door-bell pealed. +In the silence that followed, the noise of the turning of locks and the +drawing of bolts was distinctly audible in the study. + +"Damn you!" cried Stanhope, pale with the sudden white-hot passion of +the unstable. "This is your doing--you--you masquerader!" + +The two men stood facing each other, hardly a yard apart. They were +almost exactly of a figure, Stanhope being if anything a shade the +taller. Each was conscious as he regarded the other that he might be +looking at himself, intangibly altered, in a mirror; and the fancy was +pleasing to neither. + +"I suppose I might as reasonably call you that," said Varney quietly. "I +might as reasonably say that this knock on the head from Sam Orrick was +your doing. The fact is that you were a fool to come back here. But as +for those poor fellows out there--" + +The door-bell rang again, insistently, and he broke off. A window +upstairs rattled open, and they heard a man's steady voice: + +"'I there on the piazza! What do you want?" + +"I want to see Mr. Stanhope a minute," called a thicker voice from +below. "On important business." + +"'E's not 'ere," said faithful Henry. "'E's expected to arrive +to-morrow." + +"You're a ---- ---- liar!" + +Immediately a general yelling arose, from farther back in the darkness. +Diplomacy, it seemed, was about to be abandoned for immediate action. +But over the sudden hubbub, that cool voice at the window rang out +again: + +"Hif it's fight you want, Hi'll say we were expectin' you. There's ten +of us 'ere, hall armed--" + +A derisive voice was heard in answer. "We'll see about that, my buck, +pretty--soon--" + +"Men! Hi've got a brace of six-shooters 'ere in my 'and. The first of +you as comes into the light gets a couple of 'oles drilled into 'is +hinside, neat and clean." + +Having launched this threat from his inky window to gain a little time, +Henry silently withdrew, flung downstairs and broke into the study, his +scrape and bow forgotten, to inquire whether either of the gentlemen +had, in Gawd's mercy, hanythink that would shoot. + +His master, whose well-kept hands were opening and shutting by his side, +did not answer. + +"No," said Varney, "I am unarmed." + +"Heven without a gun, sir," said Henry to Stanhope, and his look was not +such as a servant wears to his master, "we could lick a harmy of them +chaps." + +"We could never do it!" cried Mr. Stanhope shrilly. + +The shouting outside, though still a discreet distance back, grew more +articulate. Very fearful were their menaces. + +"Come out, Stanhope! Your time's come!" + +"We'll string yer to a tree, yer----" + +"Fellers, let's burn the damn rat out!" + +Stanhope's face went from white to pale green. He steadied himself +against the table with a hand that quivered, and looked at Varney. + +"It's--it's you they want," he said. + +"O my Gawd," cried Henry and put his face into his hands. + +"Yes," said Varney, averting his eyes also, "it's I they want." And he +started for the door. + +But Henry, who had noted the marked resemblance between the two men and +had caught faint glimmerings of what these strange things meant, barred +his way with an immortal rejoinder. + +"Hif you please, sir, Stanhope was the name they called." + +Varney gave a tired laugh. His terrible headache made him chafe at any +prolonging of the scene. Moreover, it made rational thought difficult, +twisting common-sense into fanciful shapes. It seemed to him an +unendurable thing that he should protect himself under the wing of such +a man as Stanhope; and the thought of fierce action drew him like a +lodestone. + +"You're a good fellow, Henry," he said quietly. "However, your master +and I agree perfectly." + +But at that moment, the small window at the back of the room, which no +one had thought to fasten, flew open and a man slipped nimbly through +it--a big, hard-breathing, iron-faced man, with perspiration streaming +rivers down his sun-tanned cheeks. + +Mr. Stanhope, with a weak exclamation, moved so as to bring the table +between himself and the intruder. Varney's eyes grew suddenly anxious. + +"Thank God, you're safe, Larry!" gasped Peter, looking hurriedly about +him, and characteristically asking no questions. "Four of us! +Magnificent! We can hold this room for a year against those drunken +sheep...." + +The din outside grew deafening. One man, braving Henry's threat, had +made a bolt across the star-lit space to the house, and no shot had rung +out from the upstairs window. Others had instantly followed, and the +little front porch now echoed under many feet. Yet, boisterous as they +were, the mobbers seemed to hesitate at taking the front door at a rush, +as though fearful of what reception might await them in the dark and +silent hall beyond. + +But now a stone crashed through a front window downstairs, and a man's +voice rang out suddenly so close that it seemed to be inside the parlor: + +"One minute to come out fair in the open, Stanhope, or we'll set a light +to this house, so help us God!" + +Mr. Stanhope gave a low cry. "Call to them, Henry!" he ordered, wildly. +"Quick! Tell them I'm coming out this minute." + +Henry, his back against the door, did not stir. + +"_Hare_ you goin' out, sir?" + +"No," said Varney, "he isn't. But I am." + +Peter came further into the pretty room, impatient eyes fixed on Varney. +"What fool's talk is this?" he demanded roughly. "Nobody is going out. +We four--" + +Another loud crash of broken glass drowned him out. In Varney's eye the +look of anxiety had deepened. He understood everything at a glance. +Adroit proddings of a few poor Hackleys, some cheap liquor, the word +passed to Maginnis as from a friend--this was how the boss of Hunston +had plotted to set his heel upon Reform and stamp it out forever. He +came three steps back into the room, sternly. + +"You were a monumental fool to let them send you here, Peter--" + +But the swelling tumult without made parley out of the question. + +"No time for talk!" roared Peter. "It's fight now--before they are in on +us! Lights out--and to the front, all of us!" + +"Right hoh!" cried Henry, man to man, and ran out the door. + +"No, no!" protested Mr. Stanhope thickly, "it is n't fair--" + +Peter wheeled and looked at him, personally, for the first time. He had +recognized him instantly, and now when he saw what he saw on that sickly +green face, his fine eyes hardened. + +"Four, I said? I see there are only three men here. No matter--three +good ones are more than enough. Larry, stay here! I'll take the front +door--the man the front windows--" + +But Varney blocked his way to the door with a face more resolute than +his own. + +"Stand back, Peter. We'll do nothing of the sort. Those are Ryan's men +out there. They don't want Mr. Stanhope--you know that. I don't like +this place anyhow--I'm going to get out--" + +"I'll sizzle in hell if you do!" bellowed Peter, and violently pinioned +his arms. + +But Stanhope, clutching at the chance, struck again for the safety of +his skin. "He ought to go," he cried swiftly. "It is n't my +quarrel--don't you see? Let go his arm there--you bully!--let him go!" + +The shock of that, curiously, surprised Peter into complying. He +dropped Varney's arms, turned swiftly to the author and fixed him with a +look for which, alone, another man would have cried for his blood. "Did +I hear you aright?" he said in an oddly still voice. "Do I understand +you to suggest that he be sent out there alone?" + +Mr. Stanhope shrank before that look, but this was the utmost concession +to it. + +"It's not my quarrel," he said moistening his lips--and suddenly, +glancing over Peter's shoulder, his eyes lit with a frightened gleam of +triumph. "It's he they--" + +Over the shouting a single hoarse cry rang out very close at hand. + +"Curse you for the cowardliest dog God ever made!" cried Peter, his +passion breaking its thin veil of calmness like a bullet. "If you +interfere in this, you'll not hide afterward where I'll not find you. +Larry! You'll--" Peter turned and broke off short with an exclamation +which was a good deal like a groan. + +Varney was not there. Taking advantage of Peter's momentary distraction, +he had slipped through the door and fled down the hall. + +Shaken with the rushing sense of his friend's danger, Peter started +wildly for the door. But in that fraction of a second, the lamp on the +center table was blown suddenly out and he found himself in inky +darkness. At the same moment something thrust itself dexterously between +his moving legs and he fell heavily to the floor. Falling he struck out +blindly, and his whirling fist collided with something warm and soft. +The next instant he was up and groping madly for the door, his sense of +direction all gone from him. But the author lay where he had fallen, +quite still, and, for the moment, afraid no longer. + +The moment's gain, however, was all that Stanhope needed, though it was +no more. In the dark hall where a single candle burned, Varney had met +Henry. The instant before, a man's head and shoulders had protruded +suddenly through the broken-in parlor window, and Henry, waiting +patiently in the shadow of the wall had flatted him to the floor with a +heavy chair, which broke in his hands. Then he heard swift footsteps in +the hall, and divining what had happened, bounded out. + +"Stand clear, man!" cried Varney loudly. "I'm going out." + +A prolonged shouting indicated that the promise was heard with approval +outside. But not so with Henry, who closed in on him fiercely, crying: +"Not hon your bloomin' life, you don't--harskin' your pardon, sir!" + +Varney, however, was a thing of nerves and passion now, all energy and +muscle and concentrated purpose. He shook the man off like a rat, and +the next moment burst open the front door. + +All this had happened far more quickly than it can be set down. Five +minutes had hardly passed since Henry's first challenge had rung from +the upstairs window. This would have been ample time to carry the house +by storm, front and back, had the invaders had the leadership and wit; +but these things they lacked. They were still massed on the front porch, +pell-mell, in a turbulent group, ramping, raging, thirsty for action, +but as yet ineffective; though one of them had at that moment set a +match to a torch of newspapers and kindling wood. Delay had loosed the +hunter's instinct in the half-drunken band: it broke into flame at sight +of the quarry. Varney had scarcely shown himself in the half-opened door +when some one struck him a savage blow on the chin that sent him reeling +backwards. + +He had come out to them with no plan, no sense of hostility, and only +because, in his disturbed mood, he despised Stanhope so utterly that he +would take no protection from him, or give him any share in his own +troubles. But at that blow, a demon sprang to life in him which knew no +law but an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. His left arm shot out +like a piston at the dim flushed face before him, and the face bobbed +downward out of sight. + +At the same moment, the heavy back of a chair in supple hands descended +out of space behind him with a thud; and a great tall fellow, staggering +backward with the unexpected pain of that stroke, for the moment +obstructed his comrades. For Henry had followed where he could not lead, +and now ranged himself joyously at Varney's side in the narrow +threshold. + +The setback, however, was trivial. In the next breath, they closed round +him with a great shout, thrusting Henry violently to one side. Three men +were required for this latter task, who so missed the real sport of the +night. Another was caught when the front porch fell in with a crash, and +was pulled out with a broken leg an hour later. But enough remained. +Varney was instantly lost in a struggling and kicking hurly-burly of +arms and legs, and was borne with them in a rush down the short flight +of steps to the lawn. All, of course, could not reach him. So it +happened that two or three, on the outskirts of the tossing group, heard +the feet of reinforcements in the hallway and wheeled at that sound. +Even in the faint light, Peter's great size made him easily +recognizable; and a young man of Hare's party named Bud Spinks, who +admired him intensely and had partaken of his hospitality in the town, +was still enough himself to cry out: + +"Keep away, Mr. Maginnis! This ain't your fuss!" + +"You'll see!" shouted Peter, and cleared the wrecked porch at a bound. + +In his dash through the darkness for the door he had stumbled over the +fragments of Henry's broken chair. One stout leg of it remained in his +hand now. Peter's prowess with that weapon has passed into legend in +Hunston. They tell to this day of a great giant, eight feet tall, +watchful eyes in all parts of him, impervious to all blows, +hundred-handed and every hand like the kick of a mule, who met ten men +almost single-handed that night and routed them utterly. + +He was the biggest man in Hunston, the strongest and the most terrible +in anger. Bud Spinks, because he did not know whose fuss that was, felt +the bite of that anger, and toppled beneath it like a sapling under the +woodman's axe. So did poor old Orrick, who had met the others on the +road and returned with them, and who was the only man of them all that +Peter recognized. Two of those who were looking after Henry, having laid +him to rest by this time, rushed Peter from behind. One of them struck +him heavily on the point of the jaw as he swung around, and was +astonished that he did not appear to notice it. The next instant he fell +senseless under a blow that crushed through his upraised fists as a +hammer might go through a drumhead. One Peter hit a glancing blow upon +the shoulder, and as long as he lived he could never raise that arm +above his head again. + +Thus Peter was free to fling himself on that violently swaying mass +which he knew held Varney. Even those on the further side knew precisely +the moment he struck it. The whole body quivered with the shock of that +impact. Those nearer that chair leg and that equally terrible fist had +more personal testimony to his presence. There was no resisting either. +They got in many blows upon him, as his bruised body and discolored face +showed next morning. But he never once faltered. To himself, with a +precious moment lost back in the study and a heart afire to know if he +were yet in time, his progress seemed desperately slow; yet he cleft a +path for himself as by magic. + +Knocking some down, thrusting others aside or frightening them away, he +found his answer at last with sudden directness. A big raw-boned fellow, +fiercely drunk and working with his feet at something on the ground, +wheeled and struck passionately at Peter's face. A blow like a cannon +shot was his reply, and, for the second time under the impact of that +fist, Jim Hackley (though Peter did not know him) measured his length +upon the ground. Two or three scattering ones, still up, were hovering +in Peter's rear with a discreetness which, it chanced was now quite +superfluous. For at that instant, he caught sight of his friend, and +immediately all the fight went out of him and his knees shook. + +Varney lay anyhow on the trodden grass, dappled with blood, his head +curved fantastically beneath his shoulders. Another had gone down with +him and lay half over him, a long arm locked about him in a curious +gesture that oddly suggested protection. This one lay face downward, but +Varney, as it happened, was on his back, and his upturned face looked in +the dusky night the image of death. + +Peter dropped his club with a strangled cry, and went down on his hands +and knees. No reassuring flutter met the hand which he thrust inside the +trampled bosom. That heart seemed stilled. He gathered the limp form in +his arms like a child's and turned a dreadful face upon the beaten +fragments of the mobbing-party. + +"By God!" he shouted passionately. "You've killed him!" + +They faded away into the darkness, such of them as could walk, sobered +by the horror of that cry, frightened more at that face than at all the +blows which had gone before. + +So Peter stood alone in the little lawn, dark figures of his enemies +stretched here and there about him, his great arms clutching the inert +body of his friend, groaning his pain to the four winds. But the next +instant, flying hoof-beats sounded on the road, raced near, and a +two-horse buggy, overloaded with men, pulled up sharply at the gate. A +very small pale man, in a frock-coat plastered with dirt, and stuttering +violently as he shouted Peter's name, tore up the path. + +"You're too late, Hare!" cried Peter wildly. "They've killed him!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +RELATING HOW VARNEY FAILS TO DIE; AND WHY SMITH REMAINED IN HUNSTON; AND +HOW A RECEPTION IS PLANNED FOR MR. HIGGINSON + + +Thus it happened that the southbound local, which went through at +eight-ten, did not acquire Varney as a passenger that night; and his old +friend, Elbert Carstairs, did not meet his emissary at nine-thirty, or +indeed at any hour that evening. But two travelers for New York did +board the local at Hunston, and both of them, as it chanced, repaired to +the car provided for smokers, each for his own reasons. + +One of them straightway lighted a long cigar, which a gentleman had +given him that morning, doubtless unwisely, for he was not above twelve +years old. The other, who happened to sit in the seat just before him, +did not smoke. He was rendered conspicuous by the fact that he wore no +hat, and by the deadly pallor of his face, relieved only by a reddening +bump beneath the right eye. His clothes also were dirty and disheveled +till he seemed scarcely the superior in elegance of the little +ragamuffin behind him. + +So that it was not surprising that the amiable conductor, standing by +for the tickets and struck by the obvious likeness, should have +observed: + +"Your son's pretty young to be a-smokin' seegars, ain't he?" + +Mr. Stanhope, not knowing what this remark meant, and caring less, +answered with a cold stare, though inwardly he cursed the man for his +fatuous impertinence. That done, he relapsed dully into his own +thoughts, which were all of the house he had scurried from, terrified by +Peter's cry, half an hour before.... + +In that house, in Mr. Stanhope's own deserted bed, Varney lay at his +ease, as quiet as a statued man. Over the bed, industriously at work, +hung the keen-faced town doctor, whom Hare had gotten with a speed which +passed all understanding. At the foot of the bed stood Peter Maginnis, +his face like the face of a carven image. + +At the very moment when the garrulous conductor was trying to foist off +poor little Tommy Orrick upon Mr. Stanhope, the old doctor raised his +head. + +"He's not dead _yet_. An excellent chance I should say." + +Peter's face did not change. His hand tightened on the foot-board till +his nails whitened. It was as though he had pulled a signal cord which +ran unseen under the bed-clothes and rung a mysterious bell in some +remote corner of his friend's head. Varney immediately opened one eye, +let it rest on Peter and said in a clear voice: + +"You all right, Peter?" + +That done he relapsed immediately into unconsciousness again. The doctor +took out a large handkerchief, wiped his brow and smiled. Peter, his +quick relief like a storm of joy, went downstairs to tell his friends +of the Reform Committee, and do a thousand other things. + +By nine o'clock the town was ringing with the wild story, and in the +still watches of the later night the telegraph flung it to far places, +to be read in wonder next morning in a million homes. Overnight, the +great eye of the country turned like an unwinking searchlight upon the +dingy town by the Hudson where happened to dwell Mrs. Elbert Carstairs +and her only daughter, Mary. And all the world read how two men who were +doubles had strangely met in a lonely house with a drunken mob outside; +how one of them, who had earned the mob, turned the other out to face +it; how the son of a famous captain of industry had shamed the +Berserkers in his passionate muscularity: how one "double" had fled to +save his skin and how the other, battered almost beyond recognition, now +lay trembling between life and death. + +In Hunston, there followed next day a whirl of police activity, of which +the net results were tame in the extreme. Of all the fierce band which +had stormed the house of Mr. Stanhope, only poor old Orrick and Mr. +British, the bookseller--he who had been pulled out senseless from under +the beams of the porch--were identified. Mr. British flatly and +resolutely declined to testify as to who his comrades were, and old Sam +Orrick, terrified though he was by prospective horrors of the law, +loyally perjured his immortal soul by swearing that the men were all +strangers to him and that he believed them to be visitors from another +city. + +The count against these two proved to be only assault and battery, +though for three days and nights it was a toss of the coin whether they +would not have to answer for a graver charge. Peter's joy had soon +proved premature and the doctor's smile faded in unexpected +bewilderment. The sick man did not improve in the least. Delirium +followed hard upon deadly stupor and there seemed no rousing him from +either. + +The yellow cottage with the trampled flower-beds and smashed windows, +which looked so bare-faced with its front porch shaved away, had passed +to Peter for the moment by right of conquest. In it everything that +conducted to the comfort of ill man had been quickly and lavishly +installed. Everybody was wonderfully kind and thoughtful. Mrs. Marne, +who reached the cottage with Mrs. Carstairs half an hour after the +doctor the first night, and had done wonders before the nurses arrived, +was simply invaluable. Hare came night and morning, horribly formal and +ill at ease, begging for something to do. Flowers and inquiries from +total strangers were an hourly occurrence. From Charlie Hammerton came a +quart of magnificent Scotch, followed on the second day by a pile of +clippings from the _Gazette's_ exchanges which must have gratified the +injured man extremely if only he had been able to read them. His own +leading article, headed "Laurence Varney, Hero," Editor Hammerton +modestly suppressed. By the hand of sad-faced McTosh came a hideous +floral piece, in fact, a red, white, and blue star, bearing the label +"From the sorrowing crew of the _Cypriani_." Mrs. Carstairs, whose +emotions at the time were hardly fully understood in the yellow cottage, +called daily and sent beautiful roses and chicken jelly. The roses faded +and the chicken jelly was considerably enjoyed by the nurses. But from +Mrs. Carstairs's daughter, whose filial relations had invoked all these +things, there came neither flower nor word. + +The fight had taken place upon a Thursday night. On Friday, the Hunston +doctor, at his wits' end, had asked for a consultation. On Saturday, the +great doctor from the city had spent an hour in the sick-room, first +examining the patient in a bodily way, and then prodding him with a +tireless stream of questions, however futile--anything to make him talk. +At the end of that time he had whispered awhile with the town doctor and +drawn Peter into the study downstairs. + +"What's the matter with him, Mr. Maginnis?" he asked abruptly. + +"Matter?" echoed Peter. "Wasn't he beaten to a pulp?" + +"Kicks don't kill a man with that kind of physique. What has he got on +his mind?" + +"I don't know," said Peter, miserably. "The last time I saw him--" + +"Find out," said the great doctor, briefly. "If you don't, he may die. +He seems to have had a shock of some kind. You must work upon that line. +There is nothing the matter with his body that he can't throw off. But +he will not get well unless you put the idea into his head that he +_must_." + +And glancing at his watch, he bowed stiffly, and was whirled away to +the station. + +Peter was utterly at a loss. He had no idea what had taken Varney up the +road to Stanhope's that afternoon, much less of any shock that could +conceivably have come to him. But he set himself to find out. By the +next morning, partly through inquiry, partly through patching two and +two together, he had worked out a theory. Guesswork, of course, was +rather dangerous in a delicate matter such as this; but the doctor's +report after breakfast had been the very worst yet. Peter never +faltered. He picked up his hat from the study table, in front of which +he had been figuring these things out, and started down the hall. + +Mrs. Marne was sitting quietly on the bottom step of the stairway, her +dark head in her hands; and Peter was glad to see her. + +"I've found out a little about that," said Peter, in a low voice. "I +believe it was--to see Miss Carstairs that he came up the road that +day." + +"Yes," said Mrs. Marne. "I have heard that too." + +"She struck me," said Peter, "as a nice little girl. Probably she +doesn't understand the situation. I am going to see her now." + +"She won't see you," said Mrs. Marne. + +"Yes, she will," said Peter quietly, and started for the door. + +But Mrs. Marne caught him by the hand, protectingly, like an elder +sister, and drew him into the parlor and shut the door. + +Half an hour later Peter came out and went up the stairs. At the +landing he paused to take off his shoes, and went on up in his stocking +feet. + +It was Sunday morning, near eleven o'clock, a brilliant morning all sun +and wind. The far church bells of Hunston were ringing on the clear air +like chimes from another world. Never afterward could Peter hear the +Sunday bells without thinking of that moment. At the door, he met Miss +Nevin, the day-nurse, coming out. She said she was going to telephone +the doctor. + +Peter slipped into the darkened room and shut the door noiselessly +behind him. After a moment, he tipped over to the bed and sat down in +the nurse's chair, silently. The bed looked very fresh and white and +unrumpled, and that was because the injured man had for two days lain +almost wholly quiet. The thin coverlet defined his long frame perfectly. +Many bandages about the limbs and trunk made it look grotesquely bumpy +and misshapen. One arm, wrapped from shoulder to finger-tip was outside +the coverlet; now and then the hand, which was muffled large as a +boxing-glove, moved a little. Cloths ran slantwise about chin, brow, and +head, leaving only breathing space and one eye uncovered. + +Presently, as he became more used to the darkness, Peter observed that +the eye was open and regarding him incuriously: and he started in some +confusion. "Do you feel much pain now, old chap?" he began rather +huskily. + +"Pain?" repeated Varney, vaguely. "No, I don't feel any pain." + +"No pain! That's fine!" said Peter with lying cheerfulness, for he knew +that this deadness to sensation was the worst feature in the case. +"That--left leg is rather badly bruised, it seems. I was a little afraid +_that_ might be troubling you some." + +Silence. + +"Did Miss Nevin show you all your flowers? They 've just been pouring in +all day every day. We could turn florists to-day without spending a +penny for stock. Couldn't we, Larry, eh?" + +"Yes," said Varney laboriously. "We could." + +"Everybody has been so kind," continued Peter, desperately, "that upon +my word it's hard to pick and choose. If I were asked to say who had +really been kindest--let me see--yes, I'd name--Mrs. Carstairs. Flowers +and something to eat, some little dainty or delicacy, twice a day. The +fact is, old chap, to put it plainly, though I don't want to distress +you, you know--she is blaming herself about this. Blaming herself +greatly." + +"She oughtn't to do that," said Varney after a time. + +"Of course she ought n't to. Yet it's natural enough in a way. Of +course, I'm blaming myself, too--like the mischief--I'd had so many +warnings, you know. Little Hare is blaming himself. And Mr. +Carstairs--poor old fellow! I'll show you his letters when--the light's +a little better for reading. They're fine, honestly. Of course, he +wanted to come on right away, but I wouldn't let him." + +Silence again. + +"So you see how many of us," continued Peter, nearing his awkward +climax, "have been worried, _personally_, about this--trouble. And how +much, well--how much--happiness is bound up in your getting well. And by +the way--I declare I nearly forgot Miss Carstairs--I declare!" + +There was a long silence, which Peter resolved not to break. Through the +shuttered window, the distant bells chimed faintly into the room. The +sick man's stray arm moved restlessly on the coverlet, but otherwise he +lay quite still. + +At length Varney said: "When did you see Miss Carstairs? She +hasn't--been here--?" + +But poor Peter's errand was not so easy as that. He had no glad shaft of +promise with which to pierce that deadly Nessus-coat of apathy. + +"She couldn't come here, old chap," said Peter, very gravely. "You +hadn't heard, of course. Miss Carstairs is very ill." + +"Miss Carstairs is very ill," repeated Varney, not inquiringly, but like +a child saying over a lesson. + +"Awfully ill," said Peter encouragingly. "It seems that she came home +Thursday night a little after seven, looking very pale and badly, but +insisting that there was nothing the matter. She sat upstairs with her +mother until about eight, when somebody called her down to the +telephone. Well, she didn't come back. So after a while Mrs. Carstairs +sent down to find out why. The maid found her in the hall--in fact, on +the floor, I believe. She had fainted, you know. Yes--that was it. +Fainted dead away--poor little girl." + +After what seemed an eternity of waiting, Varney asked: "What was +it--do you know? At the telephone?" + +"Yes. It was Mrs. Marne. She called up Miss Carstairs in the first +excitement of--of your accident, it seems, and I'm afraid she gave a +very exaggerated and alarming account, you know. They put her to bed," +continued Peter clearing his throat, "and there she's been ever since. +The great shock, you know. Mrs. Marne saw her this morning--the first +time she had been admitted. It's all quite sad. Quite sad. We'll talk of +it again when--you're feeling a bit stronger." + +Varney, who had lain like a statue for two days and nights, had begun +moving a little under the coverlet, stirring first one swathed leg, then +the other, as though seeking vainly to shift his position. Now he said +at once: "I want to hear now." + +Peter gave a deep sigh. He thought, and rightly, that this was the best +thing that had happened yet. + +"Well, it's all very strange, Larry. When I said that it was the shock +of the accident that had made her ill, I did not tell the whole truth. +It seems that she is suffering from a terrible hallucination about it. +She feels in some strange way that the responsibility for all this--is +hers. She told Mrs. Marne that she was responsible for your being on the +road that night, and that she had been unfair about something or other, +and that but for that the--trouble would never have happened. I don't +pretend to understand it. But feeling as she does now--if anything were +to--to go wrong, the poor child would count herself--she would count +herself--" + +"Don't!" said Varney very clearly and distinctly. + +His face looked all at once so ghastly that Peter's heart stopped +beating. He thought in a horrible flash that the end had come, and that +he, Peter Maginnis, had brought it by tearing at the worst wound his +friend had. His clumsy diplomacy fell from him as at the last trump. He +dropped on his knees beside the bed with a groan. + +"For God's sake, Larry, don't leave _that_ mark to a child like her. +Don't give us all _that_ sorrow to carry to our graves--" + +But Varney had pulled his arms free and was clutching wildly at his +head-bandages with heavily swathed fingers. + +"You needn't worry about me," he said in a sharp anguished voice. "Great +Scott! What's--what's wrong with my _head_! It's killing me." + +He recovered with a speed which puzzled the old Hunston doctor even more +than his previous lethargy had done. Five days later he was well enough +to be lifted downstairs to the small back piazza, and here he lay +blanketed up in a reclining chair for half the sunny afternoon. + +A bundle of letters and telegrams lay on his covered knees; and going +slowly through them, he came presently to one from Elbert Carstairs, +arrived only that morning: + + "MY DEAR BOY: + + Words are feeble things at their best, + and I know of none that would convey to you my great + joy at the news that you are out of danger. By the same + mail, I have learned that my other dear sick one in Hunston + is quite herself again, and I say to God in gratitude + upon my knees that my cup is full." + +A pause in the reading here. The long hand of the nurse's clock on the +window-sill had crawled half around the dial before Varney raised the +letter again from his blanketed lap: + + "There is much in my heart to tell you, much to beg your + forgiveness for, but I shall keep it to say to you face to + face. Just now the keenest point in my grief is that all + this suffering I have brought upon you has been worse + than unnecessary. Light has come to me in these sleepless + nights, and I see now that there was a much better + way to seek what I sought, a far happier path." + +The letter slipped down upon the swathed knees again, and he lay staring +at the blown and sunny tree-tops. Presently the door at his side opened; +a man started to come through it, stopped short, and stood motionless on +the threshold. + +Varney slowly turned his head. In the doorway, to his dim surprise, +stood Mr. Stanhope's man, Henry, bowing, unobtrusive, apologetic, ready +to efface himself at a gesture like the well-trained servant he was. + +"Why--is that you, Henry?" + +"Harskin' your pardon for the hintrusion, sir," said Henry with a wooden +face. "I didn't know you were 'ere, sir. 'Opin' you are feeling improved +to-day, sir--if you please, Hi'll withdraw--" + +"Henry," said Varney, "that is no way for you to speak to me--after the +way you stood up for me that night. Come here." + +And he disentangled from his covers and held out a rather maimed-looking +hand. + +Then he saw the soul of the man whip through the livery of the menial +like a knife, and Henry, stumbling forward with a working face, clasped +that hand proudly in his strong white one: only he dropped on one knee +to do it, as if to show that, though gentlemen might be pleased to show +him kindness now and then, he perfectly understood that he was not as +they. + +"Ho, sir," he broke out in a tone very different from his +well-controlled voice of service, "I never seen a pluckier thing done, +nor a gamer fight put up. You make me too proud, sir, with your +'and--man to man ... I was shamed, sir, till I couldn't bear it when I +came to and learned that I 'ad not stayed with you, sir, to the end. +Three of them closed in on me, sir, and harskin' your pardon, sir, I was +whippin' hof 'em to standstill when one of them tripped me from be'ind, +sir,--" + +"Stand up, Henry," said Varney, rather agitated, "like the man you are." + +Henry stood up, with a jerky "Thank you, sir," striving with momentary +ill-success to get a lackey's mask back upon that quivering face. + +"I'll always remember you," said Varney with some difficulty, "as a good +and brave man. I don't think I'll ever forget how you disobeyed an +order--to try to save me. And now tell me--what became of your master?" + +"'E's in the village, sir," said Henry rather bothered by his throat +"I'm expecting 'im in any moment, sir--" + +"In the village?" repeated Varney, surprised. "Mr. Stanhope is in +Hunston?" + +"_Mr. Stanhope_!" said Henry with an insufferable contemptuousness for +which he at once apologized. "Harskin' your pardon, sir--I thought you +inquired for my master. Mr. Stanhope, I 'ave 'eard, sir, has sailed for +Europe." + +"Well, who's your master, then?" + +"Mr. Maginnis is my master, sir." + +Varney deliberated on this, and slowly smiled. "Well, you've got a good +one, Henry." + +"Thank you, sir. That's 'im now, sir. I 'ear 'is motor in the road. If +you'll excuse me, sir--I'll go and let 'im in." + +And he bowed and went away, only pausing in the entry to attend a moment +to his blurred eyes with the back of a supple hand. + +Peter stepped out into the porch with a cheery greeting and dropped into +a rocking-chair, looking worn and tired. The instant his heavy anxiety +over Varney was relieved, he had thrown himself back into the fight for +reform with a desperate vigor which entirely eclipsed all his previous +efforts. + +"We-ell," he said in answer to Varney's question, "we're humping +along--just humping along. Time's so confoundedly short, though. You +know, Larry, this business the other night is proving the best card +we've got. Fact. I haven't tried to tell you how worked up the people +have been about your--accident, and how most of them don't stand for it +for a minute. It's pretty well understood around town that politics was +back of it all in some way, though nobody can state a single fact, and +I've scoured the town for evidence without finding a scrap. Anyway, it's +the solemn fact, and the committee can prove it, that that feeling is +bringing over a lot of votes that we never could have reached otherwise +with a long distance 'phone." + +"Praise be that they're coming over, anyhow." + +"This fight," continued Peter, absorbedly, "is confoundedly interesting +because it is typical of what's going on all over the country. Hunston +is just a dingy little microcosm of the whole United States of America. +You can't blame these poor beggars here much, afraid of their jobs as +they are. It takes courage to make a break for virtue when the devil's +holding you by your bread and meat. But--well, I'd hate like the +mischief to lose, particularly since we've managed to come in for such a +beautiful lot of lime-light. You know this fight is being watched all +over the country, since that trouble? And hang it, it does make a +difference when the Associated Press carries half a column about you +every night. Do you remember that first night in Hunston, Larry," he +continued, "when you said that our part in the town's affairs must be +that of quiet onlookers only? Quiet onlookers! And now everybody in the +country is playing quiet onlookers on us. Our names are household words +in California, and I'm credibly informed that they're naming babies +after you all through the middle West. Funny, isn't it?" + +Varney assented with a laugh. Presently he said rather constrainedly: +"Peter--I want you to tell me a little about that night. Who was +caught?" + +Peter named the two. "They wouldn't testify," he explained, "and I +couldn't. Old Orrick was the only man I spotted. He will get punished +for assault. I don't see that they've got a case against British. He was +knocked out when the porch fell, and he hadn't done a thing then, except +yell probably. You can't hang a man for yelling in this State." + +"No. Did you--you--was anybody killed?" + +"Bless your heart, no!" cried Peter. "Why, it was only a little old +kicking-match and hair-pulling, you know, hardly worse than a college +rush." + +Varney looked suddenly and strangely relieved. + +"I'm mighty glad to hear that," he said, and presently added: "Have you +seen--Smith?" + +"Smith! He went to New York some days ago. I remember--it was the very +day you pulled up and got well. Why, what about him?" + +"Didn't you know? He was there that night," said Varney. "Right in the +thick of it, helping me." + +"Helping _you_! Smith!" + +Varney nodded. "The minute they closed in on me," he said after a +moment, "and we all bunched together, I felt that there was somebody in +there fighting on my side. Pretty soon I heard a voice in my ear, it +said: '_Keep on your pins as long as you can: these dogs'll trample you +if they get you down_.' I said, 'Is that you, Smith?' and he laughed +and said, '_Still on my studies_.' Then somebody hit me over the head +with something, and I went down and he went with me. He had one arm +around me, I remember. I've been thinking, ever since I could think at +all, that they might--might have finished him. I believe he saved my +life, Smith did." + +"Well--bully for him!" said Peter slowly, much impressed. "What on earth +struck him to do that, do you suppose? Well, well! I'll certainly look +that old boy up in New York and shake him by the hand." + +There was a considerable silence. At just the moment when Varney was +about to put another question, Peter opened his mouth and answered it. + +"However," he said, an irrepressible note of irritation creeping into +his honest voice, "even that was not the strangest thing that happened +that night. Not by a long shot." + +Varney's gaze fixed with sudden interest. "Higginson? You don't mean to +say that he turned up?" + +"I do. And got away with it again--confound his soul!" + +"What happened? Any more dirty work? Did anything get into the papers?" + +"No--oh, no! You've got that sized up wrong, Larry. He's no yellow +journalist or anything like that. He's only the slickest underground +worker this town ever saw--with his confounded apologetic, +worried-looking mask of a face. As for more dirty work--well, I guess +the bloodshed the other night scared him up so--" + +"But go on and tell me! Where'd you see him? What did you say and--" + +"Sitting in our front parlor, if you please, like a dear old friend of +the family." + +The remembrance of the way he had been affronted and outwitted chafed +Peter's spirit uncontrollably. He rose and began pacing up and down the +little porch, hands thrust deep into his trousers pockets. + +"About an hour after we put you to bed," he exploded, "I slipped +downstairs to tell Hare to keep everybody off the place. However, a lot +of people had already come in. I glanced in at the parlor and it seemed +full of them--Mrs. Carstairs and Mrs. Marne--they were the first to get +here after Hare's delegation--Hammerton and another man from the +_Gazette_, the committeemen, and several I'd never laid eyes on before. +Well, there in a corner, looking like a hired mourner at a nigger +funeral, sat that fellow Higginson. You could have knocked me flat with +a pin feather. I'm as sure as I stand here that it was he who worked up +that mob for Ryan, and the whole dirty scheme--and then coming around +with his tongue in his cheek to inquire after the victim! Can you beat +that gall?" + +"Not easily. What happened?" + +"They asked me how you were. I told'em. Then I said before the +room-full: 'I was very sorry to find you out this afternoon, Mr. +Higginson, when I called at your hotel.' The fellow looked white as a +sheet and mumbled something I couldn't catch. Well--I couldn't smash him +there before all the women, so I said: 'Please don't go away this time +until I see you. I'm most anxious to have a little private conversation +with you.' Oh, of course that was a mistake--I hate to think about it! +But--well, I was a good deal worried just then," he explained, rather +sheepishly, "and fact is, for the minute I wasn't thinking very much +about Higginson. I needn't add that he had sneaked when I came down +again. Had the cheek to leave behind a message with Hare saying he +regretted to miss me, but felt it his duty to escort the ladies home." + +Varney, though he had grounds for animosity which Peter never even +guessed, laughed aloud. But it was a brief laugh, which quickly faded. + +"And he's never been seen or heard of from that day to this? Well, for +my part," he went on, rather constrainedly, "I'm almost ready to believe +the man's a myth--a mere personification of evil--an allegorical name +for the powers of darkness--" + +"Myth!" cried Peter. "You'll see! Why, he's certain to turn up again, +Larry--absolutely certain. You couldn't keep him away with a flock of +cannon. If he doesn't come before, it's dead sure that he'll appear +among us again on election day--four days from now--just to see the +results of his pretty work. And when he does--" + +"Well?" said Varney, amused through his own heartsoreness by Peter's +vehemence. "When he does?" + +"I've got two men watching every train, day and night," said Peter. +"When Higginson sets foot in this town again, one man trails him, and +the other runs for me.... Well, I'm a generous and forbearing man, +Larry, and I recall that you havn't had much fun here. I'll--yes, hang +it all!--I'll bring the old rogue to you, dead or alive, and stand by in +silence while you speak him your little piece." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + + +IN WHICH VARNEY, AFTER ALL, REDEEMS HIS PROMISE + +From the roaring ovation which followed Peter's brief remarks there +emerged again the sudden, clean-cut silence. Mayor Hare--Mayor by the +narrowest margin in the heaviest vote ever cast in that town--stood upon +the improvised little stand and looked out over the packed square. He +rested one small hand upon the gay-clothed rail, and many people saw +that it quivered. The showy "demonstration" of Peter's planning, +brilliantly launched the moment the count was announced--the imported +brass-band, the triumphal procession with the bugles, the streamers and +the flag-wrapped carriages, and now the rostrum ready set and waiting in +the heart of the dense crowd--all had taken him completely by surprise. +His face showed it; yet he was not thinking of that exactly. All at once +the Mayor's mind had harked back to another moment, not so many days +before, when he had stood in this square to make a speech; and at the +rushing thought of the great contrast between that moment and this, +there rose in him a sense of gratefulness so deep that it took palpable +form, and stuck, suffocatingly, in his throat. + +The square swam before his blinded eyes. He took off his glasses and +wiped them frankly. Stiff formality left him, without a nod at parting, +carrying along the "few remarks" he had nervously thrown together in his +Roman progress up Main Street. + +"The modesty of the man who has just addressed you," he began +unsteadily, "will deceive no one. You all know what I owe to him--what +our town owes to him. You all know that if I am almost too proud and too +happy to speak at all just now, it is because a kindly chance sent Mr. +Maginnis to Hunston." + +Cheers, more cheers, and yet again cheers; cheers running on and on as +though they never meant to stop; spontaneous waves of applause that +meant, what nearly all knew, that Maginnis personally had captured +Hunston, and that his efficiency with a chair-leg had reared him into a +kind of demi-god among certain rough fellows of the baser sort. + +The speaker was resuming, not yet through with his tributes. His eye +flitting over the shouting crowd had fallen upon a face. + +"I know that both honesty and logic were on the side which Mr. Maginnis, +coming here a stranger, elected to support. But honesty does not always +make a winning cause, nor does logic. What I may call sympathy is often +better than both. The splendid help that we got from Mr. Maginnis +received this supplement. Sympathy came to aid Reform. A brutal outrage +sullied the name of our town--an outrage which, there is sad reason to +believe, was born of politics. The victim of that outrage, and the hero +of that terrible night, is happily with us to-day.... I will not offend +him with any words of praise. But may I not say in the market-place what +is the truism of the committee-room ... that when this gentleman did +what he did, he brought to Reform the sympathy which ... has made me +Mayor of Hunston." + +Every eye followed the direction of the speaker's glance and his grave +bow; and by the chance of good position, it happened that nearly all +could see. Upon a dingy porch, a few yards up the Main Street side of +the square, stood a tall, young man leaning on a cane, a wide felt hat +shading a rather badly marked face. And--there was no possibility of any +mistake--it was Jim Hackley's porch that he stood upon, and--yes--it was +Jim Hackley himself, a sober and genial Jim Hackley, who stood by his +side, in intimate pose, and grinning somewhat sheepishly into the glare +of fame which suddenly enveloped him. + +What part Hackley had borne in the events to which the orator had +referred was never officially known, but it may be said without +exaggeration that there had been suspicions abroad against him. His +present friendliness with the victim of those events, therefore, seemed +the gauge and symbol of penitence and reconciliation. + +It was the first time that Hunston had seen Varney since the night he +was hurt, and the first time that most of Hunston had ever seen him. The +story of his deeds and his sufferings, doubtless considerably +embellished and known to every one, made him a figure of keen popular +interest, and the cheers and hand-clappings now were thunderous, +compelling him to lift his hat again and again. Some even started a +swift descent upon the Hackley residence with the evident intention of +carrying the young man to the stand on their shoulders. But Hackley came +down to his gate to meet them and buffeted them away, explaining loudly, +like an old friend and generally acknowledged sponsor: "He ain't up to +it to-day, boys! Stand back!" + +"Go on with your speech," said Peter in a fierce undertone to Hare. +"He's going to faint." + +"Let us give honor to whom honor is due," cried Hare, hastily, and so +resumed his remarks. + +Peter's melancholy prediction, though it spread quickly among the crowd +after Varney left the porch, was quite unfounded. Varney had not the +least idea of fainting. At Hare's tribute, which was as unexpected as he +felt it to be totally undeserved, and the sudden rain of eyes upon him, +an unaccountable dizziness had seized him, while he stood reluctantly +bowing; he had thrust out his hand and caught hold of the post. This +blackness passed as quickly as it had come. The next instant he felt as +fit a man as ever; and to the tender requests of his host, Mr. Hackley, +that he should withdraw into the house for a "leetle rest-up," he +returned a laughing refusal. For this was his last appearance in +Hunston, as well as his first in recent days, and very strongly did he +desire to make it testify to his warm interest in the town's great day +and the personal triumph of his friend, Peter Maginnis. + +What removed Varney so abruptly from the Hackley porch and the public +view was the sudden fulfilment of quite another prediction of Peter's: +the one about the return to Hunston of the gum-shod Mr. Higginson. + +The news came without warning. At just the moment when the Mayor +replunged into his interrupted oratory, Varney became aware that a low, +anxious voice behind him was insistently calling his name. He turned, +and saw the figure of a man standing in Hackley's entryway, just inside +the door; he had evidently slipped in from the rear; and now, catching +the young man's eye, he began mysteriously beckoning and making signs. + +"Kin I speak to you a minute, Mr. Varney?" he called in the same +dramatic whisper. + +Varney, in some surprise, advanced to the doorway and stepped inside the +entry after the stranger--a poorly dressed fellow with an unshaven chin +and a collarless neck. + +"Well? What do you want, my man? And how do you know my name?" + +At that the man gave the air of exploding, though his voice remained +only a whisper, at once apologetic and immensely reproachful. + +"_Know_ your _name_, sir! Why, _excuse_ me for usin' it so free, but I +guess there ain't nobody in Hunston don't know _you_, Mr. Varney! Why, +Mr. Varney, my six-year-old kid c'd pick you right out o' that crowd out +there, same as 't was her pa, what with seein' your picture in the +papers an' all, an' I guess there ain't anything you'd ever want in +_Hunston_ you couldn't have just for the trouble o' namin' it." + +The random assertion struck some of the blood from the young man's +cheek, but he said good-humoredly: "Well, I'm glad to hear it. But tell +me who you are, and what I can do for you." + +The man's face, which had grown rather loose and mobile, instantly +became business-like and alert. + +"I'm 'Lije Stobo, Mr. Varney--Hackley'll tell you. I was hired a week +ago by Mr. Maginnis to watch trains for a certain party kind of expected +to show up here." His voice, already very low, dropped several tones +lower, as he hurriedly went on: "Well, Mr. Varney, the party come in on +Number 14 just now. It ain't five minutes ago since he stepped down on +the deepo platform--disguised in some pretty good glad rags, he was, but +o' course we spotted him right off, and--" + +"Higginson?" + +The man nodded. "My partner was with me--Callery--and we shadows our +party to the Palace Hotel where he takes Room 41 and sneaks upstairs. +Callery's sitting in the lobby now, and I runs out to take the tip to +Mr. Maginnis--but Lord bless you, Mr. Varney--" He pointed out the open +door in the direction of the little speaker's stand where Peter sat +impregnably walled in on all sides by dense human masses. "It might be +an hour before I could get to him through _that_. I was up against it, +f'r he'd sure kill me if I let our party give us the slip again, and +then I heard 'em all cheerin' you, and thinks I, _there's_ my man, +and--" + +Varney interrupted gratefully but briskly. + +"You did exactly right, Mr. Stobo. I have long been anxious to see +Mr.--that is, this party. In fact," he added, putting on his hat with +significant firmness, "it is because of some business that I have with +this party that Mr. Maginnis asked you to look out for him." + +Mr. Stobo's eyes ardently approved the young man's readiness for +"trouble." + +"Well, _sir_--that's took a load off'n my mind, I tell you! I'll just +skip on--will I, Mr. Varney?--and try to get the tip to Mr. Maginnis, as +my orders was. He was _that set_ on interviewin' this here party--but +Lor', he'd give him to you, same's himself. Only--are you _sure_ you're +feelin' up to it to-day, Mr. Varney? If mebbe you'd let me'r Callery go +along now, just in case, y' know--" + +Varney gave an answer which Mr. Stobo found completely reassuring. At +the same time, he rapidly produced his pocket-book and pulled out a bill +of alluring complexion. + +"I owe you a great deal for bringing me this information, Mr. +Stobo--more than I can repay. But perhaps you would let me--" + +He stopped suddenly, for the man had started backing off down the +entryway, a dull unaccustomed color showing in his grimy face. + +"You didn't mean it, Mr. Varney! Why, how'd I look my missus in the +face--let alone myself--and tell her I took money off'n _you_--" + +He disappeared out of the back door, and Varney, feeling uncomfortable +and disproportionately touched, put his spurned bill back in his +pocket. Hackley, now perceiving that his guest's visitor was gone, +turned his back on the speechmaking and hurried forward solicitously. + +"I could 'a' hit that Stobo sneakin' in a-botherin' and a-'noyin' you," +he said in tones of great sympathy. "I know how it is, Mr. Varney. Bit +of a inverlid myself, I am--no health and no constitootion whatsomever, +sir. Feelin' a leetle stiddier now, are you? Better lie down on my +parlor sofy a while and git rested up nice, hadn't ye?--many's the day +I've lazied there, Lord knows, tryin' f'r to coddle my strength back." + +Varney regretfully declined the offer. In fact, he must be going at +once, he said, as he had a rather important business engagement; and +would Mr. Hackley kindly show him the quiet back-exit to the street and +the outer world? + +Hackley, a tireless host, re-urged the charms of his sofy and cool +well-water for invalids; but his guest remained politely firm. So there, +on the little rear veranda, the two men parted with mutual esteem: +Varney expressing sincere thanks for all Mr. Hackley's courtesies; +Hackley compassionate over Mr. Varney's impaired constitution, but +boggling over what regrets might haply betray him into the grip of the +law's long arm. + +Varney traversed the clothes-hung backyard, came out into the dingy +alley, and made rapidly for the cross-street, where a string of +carriages showed that "the quality" of Hunston was not without interest +in the day's proceedings. He did not see the carriages; to himself he +seemed suddenly to walk in a great and silent solitude. There was noise +enough about him, in all conscience, for every sentence that fell from +Hare's lips was punctuated by a salvo; but the tumult beat itself to +stillness against the closed fastness of his mind. + +Under his eye, half way down the block to which he drew near, rose the +weatherworn flank of the Palace Hotel. Somewhere within the ugly pile +was his mortal enemy Higginson, trapped to his reckoning at last. Within +five minutes they two would stand face to face; and he had long since +promised himself that Higginson would remember the meeting for as long +as he lived. A moment ago, the thought had filled him with a strange +exhilaration: the prospect of a final accounting with the intriguing +fly-by-night who had wronged him past all forgiveness had set his blood +to leaping. But, exactly because that wrong went so deep, his +pleasurable excitement ebbed faster than it had mounted. The wound that +he had had from Higginson was one that no vengeance would heal. And with +the recurrence of this knowledge his battle-joy flickered and went out +like a spent match, and the little alley was a war-list no longer but a +stretch without end of dry and dusty years.... + +"I was lookin' for yer, Mist' Varney," said a husky, abashed voice. + +Varney stared down at the small apparition before him with momentary +unrecognition. + +"Why--Tommy! Heaven bless us! Where did you spring from, boy?" + +Tommy's eyes fell in awe, but sure enough, he was sticking out his +small flipper in salutation. In fact, he had shaken hands a number of +times since that first memorable occasion, and, in his way, was +gradually beginning to catch the spirit of the thing. + +"Kem up on the two-forty-five. Wit' Hauser's band. Got a loan of t'ree +bucks off a frien'." + +"The mischief you did! Where do you find friends like that nowadays? But +what on earth made you pop back here? To hear Hauser's play and see all +the fireworks?" + +Tommy examined his toe with affected interest and shook his head. + +"What then? Don't you like it in New York?" + +"Yasser. Noo York's all right, it is." And reluctantly he added: "You +be'n sick, ain't you? Thought I'd come and see how you was makin' it. +Come afore now, on'y I couldn't get next to de price." + +"Tommy," said Varney, snuggling the boy's left hand into his own right +and resuming the promenade, "you're a mighty good friend to me." + +They emerged into the street where a double line of vehicles, some of +them gay with bright hats and parasols, flanked the curb on either side, +and Varney turned north, his back to the square, unconscious of the many +curious glances that were flung at him as he passed. + +"Tommy," said Varney, "I'm bound for the hotel on business, but I'm not +going to pull you away from all the fun--" + +"Wut, that? That ain't no fun, sir." + +"Don't you suppose I know fun when I meet it in the road, you little +rascal? You stay here till it's all over and then I want you to come +down to the yacht, and we'll have some dinner. Then I'll put you up for +the night and to-morrow morning we'll go to New York together, eh? How's +that?" + +But Tommy said: "Nawser. We can't go yet. Somebody sent me to bring you. +We got a car'dge here--" + +"A carriage?" + +"A victori'," emphasized Tommy. + +"A victoria! All this on three bucks, Tommy! Well, well! You are the +spender, though." + +"Here's _our_ victori'!" said Tommy proudly. + +They halted abruptly before an open carriage ... a victoria, indeed: a +handsome double victoria, all polished dark wood and blue upholstery and +shining nickeled harness, and sleek bay horses. This he saw in the first +flash, wondering by what miracle Tommy Orrick had secured control of so +glorious an equipage. And then ... there was the pretty edge of a +furbelowed skirt upon the carriage-floor ... a dainty patent-leather toe +upon the foot-rest ... an unrolling panorama of white-gloved hands, pale +buff dress, great plumed hat, eyes not seen yet known to be blue to +match the upholstery ... an exquisite lady sitting in the victoria. And +this lady had recognized his presence, first with a faint frightened +"Oh!" and then with a movement of those great hat-plumes which was +beyond all doubt or cavil a bow ... a bow of proper and civil greeting. + +For him that meeting was stunning in its entire unexpectedness. The +landscape went off in protest, exploded in pyrotechnic marvels; the +earth spun and cavorted; the solar system was disrupted and planets ran +amuck with din unbelievable. But he was used to these cataclysms now, +and out of the roar of breakage he heard a voice much like his own +saying pleasantly: + +"Tommy refers to this calmly as _his_ carriage, Miss Carstairs. See what +a week of New York has done for him. Where did he disappear to--did you +notice? A great day it has been"--in the rising inflection of +farewell--"hasn't it?" + +Came out of space in answer, like a fluttering bird from nowhere, a +voice that had once seemed music in his ears: + +"I sent him ... to look for you. They said that you were ... ill. +Perhaps you would let us drive you to the river?" + +"And make you miss the speech?" continued this easy and agreeable young +man, whom Laurence Varney, a great distance off, stood dumbly and +watched from the swirling void with a certain remote admiration. "Of +course not. I was never better in my life and the walk will be pleasant +on so nice an afternoon. But thank you very much." + +Again his tone held the faint inflection of finality, of leave-taking. +Came again the voice like tossed chimes out of space: + +"Then ... won't you stay and hear the end? It would please Mr. Hare. +From this carriage ... you can see and hear everything very well." + +"Thank you," said the debonair spirit, rather carelessly--while +Laurence Varney, off in another world, clutched at the invitation, +fought for it, lied, thieved, prayed, lived and died for it--"I'm afraid +I must go on now." + +"There is something I wanted to say. And ... a message." + +A shuffling of the cosmos, a shrieking readjustment of the universe, and +he found himself sitting on a blue upholstered seat staring at two great +golden moons, which later on turned out to be, after all, mere burnished +buttons upon a coachman's purple back. + +So, not for the first time, the sudden meeting with a lady knocked from +the young man's head all recollection of his enemy. And if their parting +had taken place in the entire privacy of a country road, their +re-meeting, certainly, was in the fullest view of the many. Only, +luckily, nobody chanced to be looking, or within eavesdropping distance; +and even the coachman presently removed himself to stand at his horses' +restive heads. Tommy's carriage happened to be the last one in the line. +Behind it the street was a desert. Before it was nothing but a packed +army of backs. + +"I did not know that you were here until Mr. Hare spoke. And they all +began to look...." + +"Mr. Hackley especially invited me to share his porch ..." and the other +Varney, not the one who sat so stiff and mute, desperate eyes glued on +the far horizon, but the easy, negligent Varney, gay dare-devil that he +was, actually achieved a pleasant laugh. "I must show you his note. It's +been a long time since I have had anything to please me so much." + +He unfolded and held out into the blue empyrean a rather soiled bit of +paper, which a small white-gloved hand descended from heaven like a dove +and took. Then, presumably, this was duly read: + + MR. VARNEY. dear sir: Announcment of Election will + be made in the Squair this p.m. around 6 p.m. Would + feel onered if you would come to my Poarch where everthink + can be seen & heard & no crouding, Josle ect. + Will call at your Yot with horse and Bugy around 5 p.m. + this p.m. if agreble though you don't nead no eskort anywairs + in Hunston, the Unfortunit mistaik having been + diskovered. Noing your intrest in our Poltix will add + that I voated for Mister Hair, first think this a.m. with + sorro for the Past and hoapes for your Speady convlessense, + + Resp. + + J. HACKLEY. + + S.P.--Should you come to my Poarch all would no as + bygorns was bygorns. + +"Wasn't that kind of him?" he asked when the note had again come down +into the ornamental lap, which was the upper line of his range of +vision. "And thoughtful. But then everybody has been so wonderfully kind +to me. I think I shall remember Hunston as altogether the kindest town I +ever saw." + +There was quite a silence after that. + +"I am like Jim," came the voice beside him, troubled chimes waving +bravely, "in having wronged you by ... an unfortunate mistake. You have +forgiven him, haven't you ... let by-gones be by-gones? Can you do as +much ... for me?" + +"Don't," he begged with sudden hoarseness--and there the mannersome +insouciant Varney waved an easy hand and blew himself away, like the +rascally light o' heels he was--"I have to ask forgiveness of you--not +give it," he said. + +"You have much to forgive. That day in the road--I was angry. I was not +just ... not fair. I am mortified to remember ... what I said to you." + +His heart contracted for the trouble in her voice; his spirit made +obeisance to the courage which carried her so perfectly through that +pretty suit for pardon; but for himself-- + +"There is not one thing--believe me--that your goodness can reproach +itself for--not one thing for you to be sorry for. If you have forgiven +me now--for all that you had to forgive--I go away quite happy." + +His first easy composure, which far outmatched her own, had unsteadied +her. His wasted and scarred face, which she had been quite unprepared +for, had shocked her inexpressibly. And now there was this new thought +knocking at the door of her mind--that he was going away quite happy. + +"There was something else I wanted to tell you ... if you could wait a +moment ... some news." + +He turned toward her with a movement of pleasant interest, meant to +verify his recent gallant promise; but he turned so quickly that his +face had no time to come into the kindly conspiracy, and no triumph of +hyperbole could have described its look as happy. + +"Yes? Good news, I hope?" + +"I won't ... be cowardly and let you think that this was accidental ... +my seeing you ... and telling you that I'm sorry. We--we were going to +drive down to the yacht ... after the speeches were over. I don't +understand it all yet, but this afternoon a great thing happened. There +came a letter from my father ... and everything is all settled now. He +... wants my mother ... more than me, now. Why shouldn't I tell you? It +is what I have longed for ... prayed for every night ... for twelve +years. We are going to New York--to-morrow--to see my father." + +His great gladness at that made him forget himself entirely, and for the +first time he could look at her. + +"Why, I can't _tell_ you how glad I am! How tremendously happy that +makes me!" + +She sat back in her cushioned seat, still as a sculptured lady, hands +clasped on her silken lap, eyes gone off down the street, though not for +vision, to where Hare was thundering a splendid peroration. He had +already become aware, without looking at her, that she was richly and +beautifully dressed; but he was hardly prepared for the effect which +such a setting would have upon her face. For all his conjuring of +memory, he had forgotten that she looked quite like that.... + +"Yes ... it makes me happy, too. And my mother wants to ask you--no, I +do--that is, both of us want to ask you--if you won't allow us to go +down ... in the yacht?" + +Misunderstanding, the senseless world started mad antics again; but +Intelligence, which saw more clearly, reached out a long arm and jerked +it firmly back on its feet. + +"Allow you! It's exactly what I'd like most _immensely_. She's all ready +for you--I'll have my things off her in no time--catch the eight-ten +to-night and go straight to congratulate Uncle Elbert. How great to see +him so happy! I 'll run right down to the yacht this minute and attend +to it." + +"There is nothing to attend to ... is there? You said she was all ready. +Of course we could not let you--leave her. We could not go in the yacht +... unless you will go with us." + +But speech stuck in his throat like a bone gone wrong. She would get no +help from him; that was evident. If suffering had wrought miracles of +absolution, she alone could make that plain. + +"You came to Hunston ... to take me to my father ... didn't you?" said +Mary Carstairs. "Why ... won't you do it?" + +A fugitive wave of pallor ran up her cheek, leaving its white trail +behind. She knew now that she had said the last word to him that she +could say, and that if he wanted to go away, he must go. The heavy +curtain of her lashes fell, veiling her eyes ... but, as it chanced, +fell slowly. He had turned at her words, very quickly; he caught the +curtain half-drawn, and a look come and gone like an arrow had shot +through those windows into the lit place beyond. + +"I could only do that," he began unsteadily--"I--you know how it is with +me.... To the longest day I live--I'll love you ... with every breath I +draw. I could not do that--unless ... Will you marry me?" + +The stillness about them then was like a tangible thing, measureless and +infinite. But into it faltered almost at once that voice like silver +bells. + +"If you're _perfectly sure_ you want me to," said Mary faintly. + +Her eyes met his in a wonderful union, divinely sealed the promise of +her lips, stamped it forever and ever with a heavenly stamp.... + +The bay horses curveted and pranced, the coachman sprang to his seat, a +big red motor backed, snorted, honked, and whizzed past them. The +speechmaking was over. The little line of gay carriages, breaking itself +into pieces, was maneuvering for rights of way homeward. The bay horses, +turning, too, were caught in the press and must needs go slowly: so that +the whole vivid pageant might have been but the ordered setting for this +moment--for Laurence Varney and the girl he had sworn to carry home to +her father.... + +In the square, the lingering crowd, attuned to cheering, was summoning +one name after another to noisy felicitation. Out of the tumult rose one +persistent voice, clamoring a changeless request. Yes, it was Hackley's +voice, very near, evidently on his own front porch, and he was saying +over and over: "Lemme ask you! Lemme ask you!" And about the moment the +victoria--Tommy's victori' (Tommy himself, if the truth be known, riding +snugly on the back springs at that very moment)--got safely put about, +Mr. Hackley secured what public notice he required and divulged the +nature of his request. + +"_Fellers, what's the matter with Varney_?" + +Instantly a thousand voices pulverized the man's fatuous anxiety. Hard +after, as the gallant slogan swept on to make assurance doubly sure, +they gave back the name in a roar like the rush of waters.... + +But the man for whom all the voices strained themselves did not hear +their doubt-destroying response, tumultuous though it was. Another +voice, close beside him, had taken up that refrain, making all others +inaudible, a shy, glad, whispering voice of chimes. + +"_He's all right_." + +The common words were glorified by that voice, made over into a sweet +and solemn benediction. He sat very silent, humbled and awed by the +revealed visage of his own great happiness. At last she found courage to +venture a look at him; and she saw that over his pale and disfigured +face there had come a kind of glory, the joy of sudden peace out of +pain. + +Soon he spoke; and his words at first seemed to her very far afield, +though there was that in his unsteadied voice which reassured her beyond +speech. + +"Would you mind stopping at the hotel--only a minute? I--have an old +enemy there, and I feel that I _must_ see him." + +"Oh, no, no!--must you? Oh, please--I can't let you go now! And I am +afraid--afraid of what might happen--" + +She stopped on that, somehow gathering without looking at him that she +had not followed his thought. + +"I want to take him by the hand," said Varney, "and tell him that it's +all right now." + +There was a light carriage-robe about them, for the vanished sun had +left the breath of autumn in the air; and beneath it her hand, from +which the white glove had been stripped, touched and was suddenly +gathered into his own. A glorious tremble shot through his body; and now +he could turn his shining face fully toward her. + +"You aren't thinking that I could keep an enemy _to-day_!" + +As the carriage stopped before the hotel entrance, he added: + +"And I must tell him not to bother Peter any more. You see, Peter's a +fine man, but he hasn't got my reasons for being--in love with all the +world. I--I--I hate to go. Our first parting has come soon. But--this is +a duty, and--and--good-bye!" + +She never forgot the look upon his face. + +"Good-bye. And oh! would you please _hurry_?" + +With an herculean effort he detached himself from the carriage and +rushed into the hotel. The same bored-looking clerk was sitting behind +the desk, paring the same nails with the same office scissors. But this +time, at sight of Varney, he sprang instantly to his feet, all smiles +and eagerness to serve. + +"Why, _good_ evening, Mr. Varney! Well, sir! You're lookin' better'n we +expected, and I tell you Hunston's mighty glad to see you up and about +again." + +Varney marveled how he had ever formed such a mean opinion of the clerk, +whom he now saw to be a decidedly likable young man. + +"Thank you--thank you! It's a wonderful little city--Hunston--wonderful! +Try a few of these cigars--that's right; fill your pocket. And would you +be good enough to send my card up to Mr. Higginson? Perhaps I'd better +write just a line--" + +"Mr. Higginson's in the small parlor, Mr. Varney--straight down the +corridor. Yes, sir! Just came down and went in--I think he saw you +coming--" + +"And ran away again? Why, bless me, what's the old chap afraid of?" + +He started gayly down the dim hall to the right of the desk, swinging +his stick and humming to himself; and presently became aware that a man +was following silently at his elbow. + +"It's me--Callery," said the man apologetically, as Varney turned. "I--I +'ll just be here, Mr. Varney, you know, if anything's wanted." + +Varney laughed again. "You're mighty good to me, Mr. Callery," he said +cordially--"you and Mr. Stobo--I can't tell you how much I appreciate +it. But it isn't a bit of use, you know! I'm positively not going to +kill anybody to-day." + +"Yes, sir," said Callery. "Here's the door, Mr. Varney." + +"This one?" + +"Yes, sir. He come runnin' down the steps, spoke a word to the clerk, +and then he dodges down here and slams the door behind him. Seen you +through the window, I guess--" + +"Well, I'll just step in and have a look at him, Mr. Gallery. Excuse me +a minute." + +He rapped on the closed door and called in a loud cheery voice: "Mr. +Higginson." + +"Come in," said a voice from within--a rather agitated voice which had a +curiously familiar ring in the young man's ears. + +Varney swung open the door, stepped into the small parlor, and (greatly +to the disappointment of Mr. Gallery) closed the door behind him. + +In the middle of the room, staring nervously toward the door, stood a +handsome elderly gentleman, of distinguished presence and clothes of a +rather notable perfection. At sight of him the young man's advance +halted in utter bewilderment, and he fell back limply against the shut +door. + +But the elderly gentleman came running toward him with a suppressed cry, +and seizing the young man's hand disarmingly in both his own, threw +himself almost hysterically upon his apologia. + +"Can you forgive me, my boy? Ah, I'll confess that I've dreaded this +meeting, while longing for it, too! You look badly--ah, very +badly!--yet--not bitter, not resentful--thank God, not unhappy! My boy, +can you find it in your heart to forgive an old man who has suffered +deeply for his sins?" + +Out of his whirling confusion, his insane sense of the world suddenly +gone upside down and the familiar order stood upon its head, the young +man laughed dazedly. But he kept tight hold of the old one's hand, and +fell to patting it with wild reassurance. + +"Everything's all right--all right! Yes, indeed, sir. Of course! But I +don't understand--I don't grasp--I came here looking for--Are +you--_you_--Mr. Higginson?" + +"Ah, you hadn't guessed then? And yet who could wonder, such a terrible, +frightful mix-up as it all became! You see," the old gentleman hurried +on, lowering his gaze, yet already recovering something of his normal +composure, "you had scarcely started before I--I became strangely uneasy +over the--seriousness of the matter and the possible consequences, +and--and decided that I had best come on myself in--in a private manner, +merely to have an eye on things. Believe me, that was all I meant. But I +did not dare let you know that I was here, even in that way, having +promised you that I would not interfere, and besides--I feared that you +might think I had--ah--withheld the full facts about--her age." + +In an access of nervous self-consciousness, the old man's voice trailed +to an uncertain pause; and Varney comforted him with a burst of +bewildered laughter. + +"Forgive my glassy stare--no offence intended, but my head's going +around, Mr. Higginson! It's all still nebulous, you +know--topsy-turvy--incredible! That day of the luncheon, now--the +mysterious warning--the bribe to Ferguson to smash up the yacht--" + +A fine flush spread over the old man's face to the roots of his +silvered hair. Yet it was obvious that the young man's unaffected +cordiality had heartened him immensely. + +"Well, you see, my dear boy," he began, embarrassedly, "by that time I +had met her--she was so sweet to me from the start--and I began to hope +that such heroic, such painful, measures might not be necessary. Yet +perhaps they would be, after all, and so--ah, I did wrong, I +know--wrong!--and yet--don't you see how inevitably it all came about? I +did not dare communicate with you, begging you to let matters stand a +few days--fearing that upon learning of my presence you would simply +abandon the commission entirely, and God knows you would have been +justified in doing so. Yet I longed to postpone the--the final step, +holding it in reserve, in the ardent hope that it might be avoided +entirely. So I--gave instructions to Ferguson. It was wrong not to trust +you, and oh, I have been punished for it, suffered miserably--" + +"_Dear_ sir! I'm so sorry! But that is all past now--all past--and +to-day all's right with the world!" + +The old man's hands tightened their earnest clasp. Tears sprang suddenly +into his fine eyes. + +"But oh, I have been richly blest, too--far beyond my deserts! The night +that you were hurt--I came quite unexpectedly face to face with Mrs. +Carstairs at the cottage. We had a long talk that night--a wonderful +talk, which gave me a totally new point of view, brought me new light +and peace. And now--everything is arranged, and if you have truly +forgiven me, I am happy as I never dreamed for happiness again." + +"Forgiven you! For what, dear sir? Why, don't you begin to guess yet +what you have done for me?" + +He tucked the old man's hand masterfully under his arm, and drew him to +the door. + +"God bless you, boy, for what _you've_ done for me and mine. +But--where--where are we going?" + +"Out into the world," said Varney, "where Mary Carstairs is waiting for +you and me." + +"But--but--I feel extremely nervous--does she know?" + +"She is going to know in about thirty seconds, and we are the three +happiest people in America." + +"I think," said the old man palely, "that she--she likes me--" + +"In less than a minute," said the young one, "she is going to love you." + +His voice betrayed him a little on the words, but he instantly recovered +his poise, and, hand on the knob, faced the other with his gayest smile. + +"Tell me, Mr. Higginson--_did_ you skip to New York that afternoon, when +Maginnis and I, you know, dashed up here to assassinate you?" + +"Yes," replied the handsome old intriguer with a nervous cough, "yes, +I--you see, it had been reported to me that Mr. Maginnis had threatened +to horsewhip me in the public square, after my attempt to buy the paper +and save us all from scandal. So naturally, on the afternoon you +mention, I--I anticipated trouble. However, I quietly returned to +Hunston on the next train back, going, of course, to a different hotel, +a most dreadful little place--" + +Varney shouted. + +"It's just as Peter said, I declare! You're the noblest plotter of them +all, Mr. Higginson. Dear old Hunston will not look upon your like +again." + +The two enemies came out into the corridor arm-in-arm, and advanced in +utter amity to the doorway. And as they walked, Varney's tongue +unloosed, and he spoke his still incredible happiness aloud: only, +because he was not Latin and exuberant, he spoke it according to the +indirect uses of his race. + +"That man we passed standing in the hall--the one with the face of +incredulity and chagrin--was old Callery--horribly miffed because you +and I failed to lock in mortal combat. He's a fine fellow, Callery is, +only I imagine he's had a lot of hard luck. Did you ever see a prettier +little hotel than this--I mean, of course, for a town of this size? +_Look_! That's the clerk behind the desk there. An amazingly clever +fellow--you just ought to have seen how sharp he was in knowing where +you were--and that's a _Cypriani_ cigar he's smoking, if you'd like to +know. Jim Hackley's house is just over on the other corner--why, you can +_see_ it from here. I want you to know Hackley, sir! A great big +whimsical fellow with a fist like a ham and a heart like a woman's.... +Ah!..." + +They emerged from the hotel upon the noisy street, still lively with the +rush of home-goers; and now the two men stood side by side before the +waiting carriage, and Varney's flow of talk had ceased. + +From the square there came the shouts of many lingerers, making merry +in the tail of the great day according to their desire. Down either +sidewalk poured a stream of people, laughing, talking, and calling to +each other; the street still rumbled under passing vehicles; the Palace +Hotel, in particular, had become a lodestone and near to Tommy's +victoria much human traffic converged. In truth, it was a public place +where all who wished could see, and many did see. Yet there was nothing +in the little scene to fix the gaze of the casual wayfarer: a young girl +sitting in a well-appointed carriage, and two men, one young and one +old, approaching with bared heads to speak to her. Only a close observer +would have been likely to notice that the old man's cheek was markedly +pale, and that upon the marred face of the younger one there had +descended a strange and solemn look.... + +For Mary there had been no surprise in seeing the young man come out to +her with the old one on his arm--had he not told her that he went in +peace?--and even the glorious metamorphosis in Mr. Higginson's +appearance quite failed to arrest her attention. She had smoothed his +approach with a welcoming smile and the beginning of a gay greeting; but +her eyes were for her lover. And now as she saw the look on Varney's +face, and became aware of the odd and impressive silence in which he +stood, like one called to officiate at some high ceremony, understanding +incredibly dawned within her, and she was suddenly without speech or +breath. Her little greeting was never finished; all at once her face, +grown wonderfully sweet, was whiter than the old man's own; and the +eyes which she now turned back to him were full and overfull of tears. + +"Miss Carstairs," said Varney, not quite steadily, "may I have the great +honor of presenting your father?" + + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Captivating Mary Carstairs +by Henry Sydnor Harrison + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAPTIVATING MARY CARSTAIRS *** + +This file should be named 8cmcr10.txt or 8cmcr10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8cmcr11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8cmcr10a.txt + +Produced by Brendan Lane, Dave Morgan, Tom Allen +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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