XXIX
THE RELENTLESS WHEELS
But Engineer Callahan had no notion of failing. When he had drawn thehammer on his superior officer, advising discretion and a seat on JimmyShovel's box, the 1010 was racking out over the switches in the WesternDivision yards. Three minutes later the electric beam of Tischer'sfollowing headlight sought and found the first section on the long tangentleading up to the high plains, and the race was in full swing.
At Morning Dew, the first night telegraph station out of the capital, thetwo sections were no more than a scant quarter of a mile apart; and theoperator tried to flag the second section down, as reported. This did nothappen again until several stations had been passed, and Callahan set hisjaw and gave the 1010 more throttle. But at Lossing, a town of some size,the board was down and a man ran out at the crossing, swinging a redlight.
Callahan looked well to the switches, with the steam shut off and his handdropping instinctively to the air; and the superintendent shrank into hiscorner and gripped the window ledge when the special roared past thewarning signals and on through the town beyond. He had maintained a dazedsilence since the episode of the flourished hammer, but now he was movedto yell across the cab.
"I suppose you know what you're in for, if you live to get out of this!It's twenty years, in this State, to pass a danger signal!" This is notall that the superintendent said: there were forewords and interjections,emphatic but unprintable.
Callahan's reply was another flourish of the hammer, and a suddenoutpulling of the throttle-bar; and the superintendent subsided again.
But enforced silence and the grindstone of conscious helplessness willsharpen the dullest wit. The swerving lurch of the 1010 around the nextcurve set Halkett clutching for hand-holds, and the injector lever fellwithin his grasp. What he did not know about the working parts of a modernlocomotive was very considerable; but he did know that an injector, halfopened, will waste water as fast as an inch pipe will discharge it. Andwithout water the Irishman would have to stop.
Callahan heard the chuckling of the wasting boiler feed before he had gonea mile beyond the curve. It was a discovery to excuse bad language, buthis protest was lamb-like.
"No more av that, if ye plaze, Misther Halkett, or me an' Jimmy Shovel'llhave to--Ah! would yez, now?"
Before his promotion to the superintendency Halkett had been a ward bossin the metropolis of the State. Thinking he saw his chance, he took it,and the blow knocked Callahan silly for the moment. Afterward there was asmall free-for-all buffeting match in the narrow cab in which the firemantook a hand, and during which the racing 1010 was suffered to find her wayalone. When it was over, Callahan spat out a broken tooth and gave hisorders concisely.
"Up wid him over the coal, an' we'll put him back in the car where hebelongs. Now, thin!"
Halkett had to go, and he went, not altogether unwillingly. And when itcame to jumping across from the rear of the tender to the forwardvestibule of the Naught-seven, or being chucked across, he jumped.
Now it so chanced that the governor and his first lieutenant in the greatrailway steal had weighty matters to discuss, and they had not missed thesuperintendent or the lawyer, supposing them to be still out on the rearplatform enjoying the scenery. Wherefore Halkett's sudden appearance,mauled, begrimed and breathless from his late tussle with the twoenginemen, was the first intimation of wrong-going that had penetrated tothe inner sanctum of the private car.
"What's that you say, Mr. Halkett?--on the Western Division? Whereabouts?"demanded the governor.
"Between Lossing and Skipjack siding--if we haven't passed the siding inthe last two or three minutes. I've been too busy to notice," was thereply.
"And you say you were on the engine? Why the devil didn't you call yourman down?"
"I knocked him down," gritted the superintendent, savagely, "and I'd havebeat his face in for him if there hadn't been two of them. It's a plot ofsome kind, and Callahan knows what he is about. He had me held up with ahammer till just a few minutes ago, and he's running past stop-signals andover red lights like a madman!"
Bucks and Guilford exchanged convictions by the road of the eye, and thegovernor said:
"This is pretty serious, Major. Have you anything to suggest?" And withoutwaiting for a reply he turned upon Halkett: "Where is Mr. Hawk?"
"I don't know. I supposed he was in here with you. Or maybe he's out onthe rear platform."
The three of them went to the rear, passing the private secretarycomfortably asleep in his wicker chair. When they stepped out upon therecessed observation platform they found it empty.
"He must have suspected something and dropped off in the yard or at theshops," said Halkett. And at the saying of it he shrank back involuntarilyand added: "Ah! Look at that, will you?"
The car had just thundered past another station, and Callahan had underrunone more stop-signal at full speed. At the same instant Tischer'sheadlight swung into view, half blinding them with its glare.
"What is that following us?" asked Bucks.
"It's the fast mail," said Halkett.
Guilford turned livid and caught at the hand-rail.
"S-s-say--are you sure of that?" he gasped.
"Of course: it was an hour and thirty-five minutes late, and we are on itstime."
"Then we can't stop unless somebody throws us on a siding!" quavered thereceiver, who had a small spirit in a large body. "I told M'Tosh to givethe mail orders to make up her lost time or I'd fire the engineer--toldhim to cut out all the stops this side of Agua Caliente!"
"That's what you get for your infernal meddling!" snapped Halkett. Incatastrophic moments many barriers go down; deference to superior officersamong the earliest.
But the master spirit of the junto was still cool and collected.
"This is no time to quarrel," he said. "The thing to be done is to stopthis train without getting ourselves ripped open by that fellow behind theheadlight yonder. The stop-signals prove that Hawk and the others aredoing their best, but we must do ours. What do you say, Halkett?"
"There is only one thing," replied the superintendent; "we've got to makethe Irishman run ahead fast enough and far enough to give us room to stopor take a siding."
The governor planned it in a few curt sentences. Was there a weapon to behad? Danforth, the private secretary, roused from his nap in the wickerchair, was able to produce a serviceable revolver. Two minutes later, thesleep still tingling in his nerves to augment another tingling lesspleasurable, the secretary had spanned the terrible gap separating the carfrom the engine and was making his way over the coal, fluttering hishandkerchief in token of his peaceful intentions.
He was charged with a message to Callahan, mandatory in its first form,and bribe-promising in its second; and he was covered from the forwardvestibule of the private car by the revolver in the hands of a resoluteand determined state executive.
"One of them's comin' ahead over the coal," warned James Shovel; andCallahan found his hammer.
"Run ahead an' take a siding, is ut?" he shouted, glaring down on themessenger. "I have me ordhers fr'm betther men than thim that sint you. Goback an' tell thim so."
"You'll be paid if you do, and you'll be shot if you don't," yelled thesecretary, persuasively.
"Tell the boss he can't shoot two av us to wanst; an' the wan that'sleft'll slap on the air," was Callahan's answer; and he slacked off alittle to bring the following train within easy striking distance.
Danforth went painfully and carefully back with this defiance, and whilehe was bridging the nerve-trying gap, another station with the stop-boarddown and red lights frantically swinging was passed with a roar and awhistle shriek.
"Fwhat are they doing now?" called Callahan to his fireman.
"They've gone inside again," was the reply.
"Go back an' thry the tank," was the command; and Jimmy Shovel climbedover the coal and let himself down feet foremost into the manhole. When heslid back to the footplate his legs were wet to the mid shin.
"It's only up to there," he reported, measuring with his hand.
Callahan looked at his watch. There was yet a full hour's run ahead ofhim, and there was no more than a scant foot of water in the tank withwhich to make it.
Thereafter he forgot the Naught-seven, and whatever menace it held forhim, and was concerned chiefly with the thing mechanical. Would the waterlast him through? He had once made one hundred and seventy miles on aspecial run with the 1010 without refilling his tank; but that was withthe light engine alone. Now he had the private car behind him, and itseemed at times to pull with all the drag of a heavy train.
But one expedient remained, and that carried with it the risk of his life.An engine, not overburdened, uses less water proportionately to miles runas the speed is increased. He could outpace the safe-guarding mail, savewater--and take the chance of being shot in the back from the forwardvestibule of the Naught-seven when he had gained lead enough to make amain-line stop safe for the men behind him.
Callahan thought once of the child mothered by the Sisters of Loretto inthe convent at the capital, shut his eyes to that and to all thingsextraneous, and sent the 1010 about her business. At the first reversedcurve he hung out of his window for a backward look. Tischer's headlighthad disappeared and his protection was gone.
On the rear platform of the private car four men watched the threateningsecond section fade into the night.
"Our man has thought better of it," said the governor, marking theincreased speed and the disappearance of the menacing headlight.
Guilford's sigh of relief was almost a groan.
"My God!" he said; "it makes me cold to think what might happen if heshould pull us over into the other State!"
But Halkett was still smarting from the indignities put upon him, and hiscomment was a vindictive threat.
"I'll send that damned Irishman over the road for this, if it is the lastthing I ever do!" he declared; and he confirmed it with an oath.
But Callahan was getting his punishment as he went along. He had scarcelysettled the 1010 into her gait for the final run against the failing watersupply when another station came in sight. It was a small cattle town, andin addition to the swinging red lights and a huge bonfire to illuminatethe yards, the obstructionists had torn down the loading corral and werepiling the lumber on the track.
Once again Callahan's nerve flickered, and he shut off the steam. Butbefore it was too late he reflected that the barrier was meant only toscare him into stopping. One minute later the air was full of flyingsplinters, and that danger was passed. But one of the broken planks camethrough the cab window, missing the engineer by no more than ahand's-breadth. And the shower of splinters, sucked in by the whirl of thetrain, broke glass in the private car and sprinkled the quartet on theplatform with split kindling and wreckage.
"What was that?" gasped the receiver.
Halkett pointed to the bonfire, receding like a fading star in therearward distance.
"Our friends are beginning to throw stones, since clods won't stop him."he said.
Bucks shook his head.
"If that is the case, we'll have to be doing something on our own account.The next obstruction may derail us."
Halkett stepped into the car and pulled the cord of the automatic air.
"No good," he muttered. "The Irishman bled our tank before he started.Help me set the hand brakes, a couple of you."
Danforth and the governor took hold of the brake wheel with him, and for aminute or two the terrible speed slackened a little. Then some part of thedisused hand-gear gave way under the three-man strain and that hope wasgone.
"There's one thing left," said the superintendent, indomitable to thelast. "We'll uncouple and let him drop us behind."
The space in the forward vestibule was narrow and cramped, and with thestrain of the dragging car to make the pin stick, it took two of themlying flat, waiting for the back-surging moment and wiggling it for slack,to pull it. The coupling dropped out of the hook and the engine shot aheadto the length of the safety-chains; thus far, but no farther.
Halkett stood up.
"It's up to you, Danforth," he said, raising his voice to be heard abovethe pounding roar of the wheels. "You're the youngest and lightest: getdown on the 1010's brake-beam and unhook those chains."
The secretary looked once into the trap with the dodging jaws and thebackward-flying bottom and declined the honor.
"I can't get down there," he cried. "And I shouldn't know what to do if Icould."
Once more the superintendent exhibited his nerve. He had nothing at stakesave a desire to defeat Callahan; but he had the persistent courage of thebull-terrier. With Bucks and the secretary to steady him he loweredhimself in the gap till he could stand upon the brake-beam of the 1010'stender and grope with one free hand for the hook of the nearestsafety-chain. Death nipped at him every time the engine gave or took upthe slack of the loose coupling, but he dodged and hung on until he hadsatisfied himself.
"It's no good," he announced, when they had dragged him by main strengthback to a footing in the narrow vestibule. "The hooks are bent into thelinks. We're due to go wherever that damned Irishman is taking us."
Shovel was firing, and the trailing smoke and cinders quickly made theforward vestibule untenable. When they were driven in, Bucks and thereceiver went through to the rear platform, where they were presentlyjoined by Halkett and Danforth.
"I've been trying the air again," said the superintendent, "but it's nogo. What's next?"
The governor gave the word.
"Wait," he said; and the four of them clung to the hand-rails, swaying andbending to the bounding lurches of the flying car.
* * * * *
Mile after mile reels from beneath the relentless wheels, and still thespeed increases. Station Donerail is passed, and now the pace is sofurious that the watchers on the railed platform can not make out thesignals in the volleying wake of dust. Station Schofield is passed, andagain the signals, if any there be, are swiftly drowned in the graydust-smother. From Schofield to Agua Caliente is but a scant ten miles;and as the flying train rushes on toward the State boundary, two faces inthe quartet of watchers show tense and drawn under the yellow light of thePintsch platform lamp.
The governor swings himself unsteadily to the right-hand railing and thelong look ahead brings the twinkling arc-star of the tower light onBreezeland Inn into view. He turns to Guilford, who has fallen limp intoone of the platform chairs.
"In five minutes more we shall pass Agua Caliente," he says. "Will youkill the Irishman, or shall I?" Guilford's lips move, but there is noaudible reply; and Bucks takes Danforth's weapon and passes quickly andalone to the forward vestibule.
The station of Agua Caliente swings into the field of 1010's electricheadlight. Callahan's tank has been bone dry for twenty minutes, and he iswatching the glass water-gage where the water shows now only when theengine lurches heavily to the left. He knows that the crown-sheet of thefire-box is bare, and that any moment it may give down and the end willcome. Yet his gauntleted hand never falls from the throttle-bar to theair-cock, and his eyes never leave the bubble appearing and disappearingat longer intervals in the heel of the water-glass.
Shovel has stopped firing, and is hanging out of his window for thestraining look ahead. Suddenly he drops to the footplate to gripCallahan's arm.
"See!" he says. "They have set the switch to throw us in on the siding!"In one motion the flutter of the exhaust ceases, and the huge ten-wheelerbuckles to the sudden setting of the brakes. The man standing in theforward vestibule of the Naught-seven lowers his weapon. Apparently it isnot going to be necessary to kill the engineer, after all.
But Callahan's nerve has failed him only for the moment. There is onechance in ten thousand that the circumambulating side track is empty; oneand one only, and no way to make sure of it. Beyond the station, asCallahan well knows, the siding comes again into the main line, and theswitch is a straight-rail "safe
ty." Once again the thought of hismotherless child flickers into the engineer's brain; then he releases theair and throws his weight backward upon the throttle-bar. Two gasps and aheart-beat decide it; and before the man in the vestibule can level hisweapon and fire, the one-car train has shot around the station, heavingand lurching over the uneven rails of the siding, and grinding shrillyover the points of the safety switch to race on the down grade to Megilp.
At the mining-camp the station is in darkness save for the goggle eyes ofan automobile drawn up beside the platform, and deep silence reigns butfor the muffled, irregular thud of the auto-car's motor. But the beam ofthe 1010's headlight shows the small station building massed by men, ascore of them poising for a spring to the platforms of the private carwhen the slackening speed shall permit. A bullet tears into the woodworkat Callahan's elbow, and another breaks the glass of the window besidehim, but he makes the stop as steadily as if death were not snapping athim from behind and roaring in his ears from the belly of the burnedengine.
"Be doomping yer fire lively, now, Jimmy, b'y," he says, dropping from hisbox to help. And while they wrestle with the dumping-bar, these two, thepoising figures have swarmed upon the Naught-seven, and a voice is liftedabove the Babel of others in sharp protest.
"Put away that rope, boys! There's law here, and by God, we're going tomaintain it!"
At this a man pushes his way out of the thick of the crowd and climbs to aseat beside the chauffeur in the waiting automobile.
"They've got him," he says shortly. "To the hotel for all you're worth,Hudgins; our part is to get this on the wires before one o'clock. Fullspeed; and never mind the ruts."
XXX
SUBHI SADIK
The dawn of a new day was graying over the capital city, and the newsboyswere crying lustily in the streets, when David Kent felt his way up thedark staircases of the Kittleton Building to knock at the door of JudgeOliver Marston's rooms on the top floor. He was the bearer of tidings, andhe made no more than a formal excuse for the unseemly hour when the doorwas opened by the lieutenant-governor.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Judge Marston," he began, when he had theclosed door at his back and was facing the tall thin figure in flanneldressing gown and slippers, "but I imagine I'm only a few minutes ahead ofthe crowd. Have you heard the news of the night?"
The judge pressed the button of the drop-light and waved his visitor to achair.
"I have heard nothing, Mr. Kent. Have a cigar?"--passing the box ofunutterable stogies.
"Thank you; not before breakfast," was the hasty reply. Then, withoutanother word of preface: "Judge Marston, for the time being you are thegovernor of the State, and I have come to----"
"One moment," interrupted his listener. "There are some stories that readbetter for a foreword, however brief. What has happened?"
"This: last night it was the purpose of Governor Bucks and ReceiverGuilford to go to Gaston by special train. In some manner, which has notyet been fully explained, there was a confusion of orders. Instead ofproceeding eastward, the special was switched to the tracks of the WesternDivision; was made the first section of the fast mail, which had orders torun through without stop. You can imagine the result."
Marston got upon his feet slowly and began pacing the length of the longroom. Kent waited, and the shrill cries of the newsboys floated up and inthrough the open windows. When the judge finally came back to his chairthe saturnine face was gray and haggard.
"I hope it was an accident that can be clearly proved," he said; and amoment later: "You spoke of Bucks and Guilford; were there others in theprivate car?"
"Two others; Halkett, and the governor's private secretary."
"And were they all killed?"
A great light broke in upon Kent when he saw how Marston hadmisapprehended. Also, he saw how much it would simplify matters if heshould be happy enough to catch the ball in the reactionary rebound.
"They are all alive and uninjured, to the best of my knowledge and belief;though I understand that one of them narrowly escaped lynching at thehands of an excited mob."
The long lean figure erected itself in the chair, and the weight of yearsseemed to slip from its shoulders.
"But I understood you to say that the duties of the executive had devolvedupon me, Mr. Kent. You also said I could imagine the result of thissingular mistaking of train-orders, and I fancied I could. What was theresult?"
"A conclusion not quite as sanguinary as that you had in mind, though itis likely to prove serious enough for one member of the party in theprivate car. The special train was chased all the way across the State bythe fast mail. It finally outran the pursuing section and was stopped atMegilp. A sheriff's posse was in waiting, and an arrest was made."
"Go on," said the lieutenant-governor.
"I must first go back a little. Some weeks ago there was a shooting affrayin the mining-camp, arising out of a dispute over a 'salted' mine, and aman was killed. The murderer escaped across the State line. Since theauthorities of the State in which the crime was committed had every reasonto believe that a governor's requisition for this particular criminalwould not be honored, two courses were open to them: to publish the factsand let the moral sentiment of the neighboring commonwealth punish thecriminal as it could, or would; or, suppressing the facts, to bide theirchance of catching their man beyond the boundaries of the State which gavehim an asylum. They chose the latter."
A second time Marston left his chair and began to pace the floor. After alittle he paused to say:
"This murderer is James Guilford, I take it; and the governor--"
"No," said Kent, gravely. "The murderer is--Jasper G. Bucks." He handedthe judge a copy of the _Argus_. "You will find it all in the pressdespatches; all I have told you, and a great deal more."
The lieutenant-governor read the newspaper story as he walked, lightingthe electric chandelier to enable him to do so. When it was finished hesat down again.
"What a hideous cesspool it is!" was his comment. "But we shall clean it,Mr. Kent; we shall clean it if it shall leave the People's Party without avote in the State. Now what can I do for you? You didn't come here at thishour in the morning merely to bring me the news."
"No, I didn't, Judge Marston. I want my railroad."
"You shall have it," was the prompt response. "What have you done sinceour last discussion of the subject?"
"I tried to 'obliterate' Judge MacFarlane, as you suggested. But I failedin the first step. Bucks and Meigs refused to approve the _quo warranto_."
The judge knitted his brows thoughtfully.
"That way is open to you now; but it is long and devious, and delays arealways dangerous. You spoke of the receivership as being part of a plan bywhich your road was to be turned over to an eastern monopoly. How nearlyhas that plan succeeded?"
Kent hesitated, not because he was afraid to trust the man Oliver Marston,but because there were some things which the governor of the State mightfeel called upon to investigate if the knowledge of them were thrust uponhim. But in the end he took counsel of utter frankness.
"So nearly that if Bucks and the receiver had reached Gaston last night,our road would now be in the hands of the Plantagoulds under aninety-nine-year lease."
The merest ghost of a smile flitted over the lieutenant-governor's facewhen he said, with his nearest approach to sarcasm:
"How extremely opportune the confusion of train-orders becomes as we goalong! But answer one more question if you please--it will not involvethese singularly heedless railway employees of yours: is Judge MacFarlanein Gaston now?"
"He is. He was to have met the others on the arrival of the specialtrain."
There were footsteps on the stair and in the corridor, and Marston rose.
"Our privacy is about to be invaded, Mr. Kent. This is a miserablebusiness; miserable for everybody, but most of all for the deceived andhoodwinked people of an unhappy State. God knows, I did not seek thisoffice; but since it has fallen on me, I shall do my duty as I see it,
andmy hand shall be heaviest upon that man who makes a mockery of the justicehe is sworn to administer. Come to the capitol a little later in the day,prepared to go at once to Gaston. I think I can promise you your hearingon the merits without further delay."
"Thank you," said Kent, simply, grasping the hand of leave-taking. Then hetried to find other and larger words. "I wish I could do something to showmy appreciation of your--"
But the lieutenant-governor was pushing him toward the door.
"You have done something, Mr. Kent, and you can do more. Head those peopleoff at the door and say that for the present I refuse positively to beseen or interviewed. They will find me at the capitol during officehours."
It was seven o'clock in the evening of the fiercest working day Kent hadever fought through when the special train--his own private special, sentto Gaston and brought back again over the strike-paralyzed road by theexpress permission and command of the strikers themselves--set him down inthe Union Station at the capital.
Looking back to the gray of the morning when he had shaken hands withGovernor Marston at the door of the room on the top floor of the KittletonBuilding, the crowding events made the interval seem more like a week; andnow the events themselves were beginning to take on dream-likeincongruities in the haze of utter weariness.
"_Evening Argus_! all about the p'liminary trial of Governor Bucks._Argus_, sir?" piped a small boy at the station exit; but Kent shook hishead, found a cab and had himself conveyed quickly through streets stillrife with excitement to the Clarendon Hotel.
In the lobby was the same bee-buzzing crowd with which he had beencontending all day, and he edged his way through it to the elevator,praying that he might go unrecognized--as he did. Once safe in his roomshe sent for Loring, stretching himself on the bed in a very ecstasy ofrelaxation until the ex-manager came up. Then he emptied his mind as anoverladen ass spills its panniers.
"I'm done, Grantham," he said; "and that is more different kinds of truththan you have heard in a week. Go and reorganize your management, andM'Tosh is the man to put in Halkett's place. The strike will be declaredoff at the mere mention of your name and his. That's all. Now go away andlet me sleep."
"Oh, hold on!" was the good-natured protest; "I'm not more curious than Ihave to be, but I'd like to know how it was done."
"I don't know, myself; and that's the plain fact. But I suspect Marstonfell upon Judge MacFarlane: gave him a wire hint of what was due to arriveif he didn't give us a clean bill of health. I had my preliminaryinterview with the governor at daybreak this morning; and I was with himagain between nine and ten. He went over the original papers with me, andabout all he said was, 'Be in Gaston by two o'clock this afternoon, andMacFarlane will give you the hearing in chambers.' I went on my knees tothe Federative Council to get a train."
"You shouldn't have had any trouble there."
"I didn't have, after the men understood what was in the wind. Jarl Olesontook me down and brought me back. The council did it handsomely, dippinginto its treasury and paying the mileage on a Pullman car."
"And MacFarlane reversed his own order?"
"Without a question. It was the merest formality. Jennison, Hawk's formerlaw partner, stood for the other side; but he made no argument."
"Good!" said Loring. "That will do for the day's work. But now I'd like toknow how last night's job was managed."
"I'm afraid you want to know more than is good for you. What do the paperssay? I haven't looked at one all day."
"They say there was a misunderstanding of orders. That will answer for thepublic, perhaps, but it won't do for me."
"I guess it will have to do for you, too, Grantham," said Kent, yawningshamelessly. "Five men, besides myself--six of us in all--know the trueinwardness of last night's round-up. There will never be a seventh."
Loring's eye-glasses fell from his nose, and he was smiling shrewdly whenhe replaced them.
"There is one small consequence that doesn't please you, I'm sure. You'llhave to bury the hatchet with MacFarlane."
"Shall I?" flashed Kent, sitting up as if he had been struck with a whip."Let me tell you: Marston is going to call an extra session of theAssembly. There is a death vacancy in this district, and I shall be acandidate in the special election. If there is no other way to get atMacFarlane, he shall be impeached!"
"H'm: so you're going into politics?"
"You've said it," said Kent, subsiding among the pillows. "Now will yougo?"
* * * * *
It took the general manager a wakeful twenty-four hours to untangle theindustrial snarl which was the receiver's legacy to his successor; andDavid Kent slept through the major part of that interval, rising only intime to dress for dinner on the day following the retrieval of theTrans-Western.
In the grill-room of the Camelot he came face to face with Ormsby, andlearned, something to his astonishment, that the Breezeland party hadreturned to the capital on the first train in from the west.
"I thought you were going to stay a month or more," he said, with his eyescast down.
"So did I," said Ormsby. "But Mrs. Brentwood cut it short. She's a townperson, and so is Penelope." And it was not until the soup plates had beenremoved that he added a question. "Are you going out to see them thisevening, David? You have my royal permission."
"No"--bluntly.
"Isn't it up to you to go and give them a chance to jolly you a little? Ithink they are all aching to do it. Mrs. Hepzibah has seen the risingstock quotations, and she thinks you are It."
"No; I can't go there any more," said Kent, and his voice was gruffer thanhe meant it to be.
"Why not?"
"There were good reasons before: there are better ones now."
"A seven-hundred-thousand-dollar difference?" suggested Ormsby, who hadhad speech with Loring.
Kent flushed a dull red.
"I sha'n't strike you, Ormsby, no matter what you say," he said doggedly.
"Humph! There is one difference between you and Rabbi Balaam's burro,David: it could talk sense, and you can't," was the offensive rejoinder.
Kent changed the subject abruptly.
"Say, Ormsby; I'm going into a political office-hunt. There is a deathvacancy in the House, and I mean to have the nomination and election. Idon't need money now, but I do need a friend. Are you with me?"
"Oh, sure. Miss Van Brock will answer for that."
"But I don't want you to do it on her account; I want you to do it forme."
"It's all one," said the club-man.
Kent looked up quickly.
"You are right; that is the truest word you've said to-night," and he wentaway, leaving the dessert untouched.
The evening was still young when Kent reached the house in Alameda Square.Within the week the weather had changed, and the first chill of theapproaching autumn was in the air. The great square house was lighted andwarmed, and the homelikeness of the place appealed to him as it never hadbefore. To her other gifts, which were many and diverse, Miss Van Brockadded that of home-making; and the aftermath of battle is apt to be anacute longing for peace and quiet, for domesticity and creature comforts.
He had not seen Portia since the night when she had armed him for thefinal struggle with the enemy; he told himself that he should not see heragain until the battle was fought and won. But in no part of the strugglehad he been suffered to lose sight of his obligation to her. He had seenthe chain lengthen link by link, and now the time was come for the weldingof it into a shackle to bind. He did not try to deceive himself, nor didhe allow the glamour of false sentiment to blind him. With an undying lovefor Elinor Brentwood in his heart, he knew well what was before him. Nonethe less, Portia should have her just due.
She was waiting for him when he entered the comfortable library.
"I knew you would come to-night," she said cheerfully. "I gave you a dayto drive the nail--and, O David! you have driven it well!--another day toclinch it, and a third to recover from the effects.
Have you fullyrecovered?"
"I hope so. I took the day for it, at all events," he laughed. "I am justout of bed, as you might say."
"I can imagine how it took it out of you," she assented. "Not so much thework, but the anxiety. Night before last, after Mr. Loring went away, Isat it out with the telephone, nagging poor Mr. Hildreth for news until Iknow he wanted to murder me."
"How much did you get of it?" he asked.
"He told me all he dared--or perhaps it was all he knew--and it made mefeel miserably helpless. The little I could get from the _Argus_ officewas enough to prove that all your plans had been changed at the lastmoment."
"They were," he admitted; and he began at the beginning and filled in thedetails for her.
She heard him through without comment other than a kindling of the browneyes at the climaxes of daring; but at the end she gave him praiseunstinted.
"You have played the man, David, as I knew you would if you could be oncefully aroused. I've had faith in you from the very first."
"It has been more than faith, Portia," he asserted soberly. "You havetaken me up and carried me when I could neither run nor walk. Do yousuppose I am so besotted as not to realize that you have been the head,while I have been only the hand?"
"Nonsense!" she said lightly. "You are in the dumps of the reaction now.You mustn't say things that you will be sorry for, later on."
"I am going to say one thing, nevertheless; and will remain for you tomake it a thing hard to be remembered, or the other kind. Will you takewhat there is of me and make what you can of it?"
She laughed in his face.
"No, my dear David; no, no, no." And after a little pause: "Howdeliciously transparent you are, to be sure!"
He would have been less than a man if his self-love had not been touchedin its most sensitive part.
"I am glad if it amuses you," he frowned. "Only I meant it in allseriousness."
"No, you didn't; you only thought you did," she contradicted, and thebrown eyes were still laughing at him. "Let me tell you what you did mean.You are pleased to think that I have helped you--that an obligation hasbeen incurred; and you meant to pay your debt like a man and a gentlemanin the only coin a woman is supposed to recognize."
"But if I should say that you are misinterpreting the motive?" hesuggested.
"It would make your nice little speech a perjury instead of a simpleuntruth, and I should say no, again, on other, and perhaps better,grounds."
"Name them," he said shortly.
"I will, David, though I am neither a stick nor a stone to do it withoutwincing. You love another woman with all your heart and soul, and you knowit."
"Well? You see I am neither admitting nor denying."
"As if you needed to!" she scoffed. "But don't interrupt me, please. Yousaid I might take what there is of you and make what I can of it: I mightmake you anything and everything in the world, David, except that which awoman craves most in a husband--a lover."
His eyes grew dark.
"I wish I knew how much that word means to you, Portia."
"It means just as much to me as it does to every woman who has ever drawnthe breath of life in a passionate world, David. But that isn't all.Leaving Miss Brentwood entirely out of the question, you'd be miserablyunhappy."
"Why should I?"
"Because I shouldn't be able to realize a single one of your ideals. Iknow what they are--what you will expect in a wife. I could make you arich man, a successful man, as the world measures success, and perhaps Icould even give you love: after the first flush of youth is past, theheavenly-affinity sentiment loses its hold and a woman comes to know thatif she cares to try hard enough she can love any man who will bethoughtful and gentle, and whose habits of life are not hopelessly at warwith her own. But that kind of love doesn't breed love. Your vanity wouldpique itself for a little while, and then you would know the curse ofunsought love and murder me in your heart a thousand times a day. No,David, I have read you to little purpose if these are the things you willask of the woman who takes your name and becomes the mother of yourchildren." She had risen and was standing beside his chair, with her handlightly touching his shoulder. "Will you go now? There are others coming,and--"
He made his adieux gravely and went away half dazed and a prey to manyemotions, but strangely light-hearted withal: and as once before, hewalked when he might have ridden. But the mixed-emotion mood was notimmortal. At the Clarendon he found a committee of Civic Leaguers waitingto ask him if he would stand as a "Good Government" candidate in thespecial election to fill the House vacancy in the capital district; and inthe discussion of ways and means, and the setting of political pins whichfollowed there was little food for sentiment.
It was three weeks and more after Governor Marston's call summoning theAssembly for an investigative session. Kent had fought his waytriumphantly through the special election to a seat in the House, aidedand abetted manfully by Ormsby, Hildreth, and the entire Trans-Westerninfluence and vote. And now men were beginning to say that without thetireless blows of the keen-witted, sharp-tongued young corporation lawyer,the junto might still have reasserted itself.
But the House committee, of which Kent was the youngest member and thechairman, had proved incorruptible, and the day of the Gaston wolf-packwas over. Hendricks resigned, to escape a worse thing; Meigs came over tothe majority with a show of heartiness that made Kent doubly watchful ofhim; heads fell to the right and left, until at the last there was leftonly one member of the original cabal to reckon with; the judicial tool ofthe capitol ring.
Kent had hesitated when MacFarlane's name came up; and the judge neverknew that he owed his escape from the inquisitorial House committee, andhis permission to resign on the plea of broken health, to a young womanwhom he had never seen.
It was Elinor Brentwood who was his intercessor; and the occasion was thelast day of the third week of the extra session--a Saturday afternoon anda legislative recess when Kent had borrowed Ormsby's auto-car, and haddriven Elinor and Penelope out to Pentland Place to look at a house he wasthinking of buying. For with means to indulge it, Kent's Gaston-bred maniafor plunging in real estate had returned upon him with all the acutenessof a half-satisfied passion.
They had gone all over the house and grounds with the caretaker, and whenthere was nothing more to see, Penelope had prevailed on the woman to openthe Venetians in the music-room. There was a grand piano in the place ofhonor, presided over by a mechanical piano-player; and Penelope went intoecstasies of mockery.
"Wait till I can find the music scrolls, and I'll hypnotize you," she saidgleefully; and Kent and Elinor beat a hasty retreat to the wide entrancehall.
"I don't quite understand it," was Elinor's comment, when they had putdistance between themselves and Penelope's joyous grinding-out of a Wagnerscroll. "It looks as if the owners had just walked out at a moment'snotice."
"They did," said Kent. "They went to Europe, I believe. And by the way; Ithink I have a souvenir here somewhere. Will you go up to the firstlanding of the stair and point your finger at that window?"
She did it, wondering; and when he had the line of direction he knelt inthe cushioned window-seat and began to probe with the blade of hispen-knife in a small round hole in the woodwork.
"What is it?" she asked, coming down to stand beside him.
"This." He had cut out a flattened bullet and was holding it up for her tosee. "It was meant for me, and I've always had an idea that I heard itstrike the woodwork."
"For you? Were you ever here when the house was occupied?"
"Yes, once; it is the Senator Duvall place. This is the window where Ibroke in."
She nodded intelligence.
"I know now why you are going to buy it. The senator is another of thosewhom you haven't forgiven."
His laugh was a ready denial.
"I have nothing against Duvall. He was one of Bucks' dupes, and he ispaying the price. The property is to be sold at a forced sale, and it is agood investment."
<
br /> "Is that all it means to you? It is too fine to be hawked about as a thingto make money with. It's a splendidly ideal home--leaving out that thingthat Penelope is quarreling with." And she made a feint of stopping herears.
He laughed again.
"Ormsby says I ought to buy it, and marry and settle down."
She took him seriously.
"You don't need it. Miss Van Brock has a very lovely home of her own," shesaid soberly.
It was at his tongue's end to tell the woman he loved how the woman he didnot love had refused him, but he saved himself on the brink and said:
"Why Miss Van Brock?"
"Because she is vindictive, too, and----"
"But I am not vindictive."
"Yes, you are. Do you know anything about Judge MacFarlane's familyaffairs?"
"A little. He has three daughters; one of them rather unhappily married, Ibelieve."
"Have you considered the cost to these three women if you make theirfather's name a byword in the city where they were born?"
"He should have considered it," was the unmoved reply.
"David!" she said; and he looked up quickly.
"You want me to let him resign? It would be compounding a felony. He is aJudge, and he was bribed."
She sat down beside him in the cushioned window seat and began to pleadwith him.
"You must let him go," she insisted. "It is entirely in your hands aschairman of the House committee; the governor, himself, told me so. I knowall you say about him is true; but he is old and wretched, with only alittle while to live, at best."
There was a curious little smile curling his lip when he answered her.
"He has chosen a good advocate. It is quite like a man of his stamp to tryto reach me through you."
"David!" she said again. Then: "I really shouldn't know him if I were tosee him."
"Then why----" he began; but there was a love-light in the blue-gray eyesto set his heart afire. "You are doing this for me?" he said, trembling onthe verge of things unutterable.
"Yes. You don't know how it hurts me to see you growing hard and mercilessas you climb higher and higher in the path you have marked out foryourself."
"The path you have marked out for me," he corrected. "Do you remember ourlittle talk over the embers of the fire in your sitting-room at home? Iknew then that I had lost the love I might have won; but the desire to bethe kind of leader you were describing was born in me at that moment. Ihaven't always been true to the ideal. I couldn't be, lacking the right towear your colors on my heart----"
"Don't!" she said. "I haven't been true to my ideals. I--I sold them,David!"
She was in his arms when she said it, and the bachelor maid was quite lostin the woman.
"I'll never believe that," he said loyally. "But if you did, we'll buythem back--together."
* * * * *
Penelope was good to them. It was a full half-hour before she professedherself satisfied with the mechanical piano-toy; and when she was through,she helped the woman caretaker to shut the Venetians with clangings thatwould have warned the most oblivious pair of lovers.
And afterward, when they were free of the house, she ran ahead to thewaiting auto-car, leaving Kent and Elinor to follow at a snail's pace downthe leaf-covered walk to the gate. There was a cedar hedge to mark thesidewalk boundary, and while it still screened them Kent bent quickly tothe upturned face of happiness.
"One more," he pleaded; and when he had it: "Do you know now, dearest, whyI brought you here to-day?"
She nodded joyously.
"It is the sweetest old place. And, David, dear; we'll bring ourideals--all of them; and it shall be your haven when the storms beat."
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