Ruggles of Red Gap

by Harry Leon Wilson

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Launched now upon a business venture that would require my unremittingattention if it were to prosper, it may be imagined that I had littleleisure for the social vagaries of the Honourable George, shocking asthese might be to one's finer tastes. And yet on the following morningI found time to tell him what. To put it quite bluntly, I gave himbeans for his loose behaviour the previous evening, in publicly oglingand meeting as an equal one whom one didn't know.

  To my amazement, instead of being heartily ashamed of hislicentiousness, I found him recalcitrant. Stubborn as a mule he wasand with a low animal cunning that I had never given him credit for."Demosthenes was the son of a cutler," said he, "and Napoleon workedon a canal-boat, what? Didn't you say so yourself, you juggins, what?Fancy there being upper and lower classes among natives! What rot! AndI like North America. I don't mind telling you straight I'm going totake it up."

  Horrified by these reckless words, I could only say "Noblesse oblige,"meaning to convey that whatever the North Americans did, the next Earlof Brinstead must not meet persons one doesn't know, whereat herejoined tartly that I was "to stow that piffle!"

  Being now quite alarmed, I took the further time to call uponBelknap-Jackson, believing that he, if any one, could recall theHonourable George to his better nature. He, too, was shocked, as I hadbeen, and at first would have put the blame entirely upon theshoulders of Cousin Egbert, but at this I was obliged to admit thatthe Honourable George had too often shown a regrettable fondness forthe society of persons that did not matter, especially females, and Icited the case of the typing-girl and the Brixton millinery person,with either of whom he would have allied himself in marriage had nothis lordship intervened. Belknap-Jackson was quite properly horrifiedat these revelations.

  "Has he no sense of 'Noblesse oblige'?" he demanded, at which I quotedthe result of my own use of this phrase to the unfortunate man. Quitetoo plain it was that "Noblesse oblige!" would never stop him fromyielding to his baser impulses.

  "We must be tactful, then," remarked Belknap-Jackson. "Withoutappearing to oppose him we must yet show him who is really who in RedGap. We shall let him see that we have standards which must be asrigidly adhered to as those of an older civilization. I fancy it canbe done."

  Privately I fancied not, yet I forbore to say this or to prolong thepainful interview, particularly as I was due at the United StatesGrill.

  The _Recorder_ of that morning had done me handsomely, declaringmy opening to have been a social event long to be remembered, anddescribing the costumes of a dozen or more of the smartly gownedmatrons, quite as if it had been an assembly ball. My task now was tosee that the Grill was kept to the high level of its opening, both asa social ganglion, if one may use the term, and as a place to whichthe public would ever turn for food that mattered. For my firstluncheon the raccoons had prepared, under my direction, asteak-and-kidney pie, in addition to which I offered a thick soup anda pudding of high nutritive value.

  To my pleased astonishment the crowd at midday was quite all that mystaff could serve, several of the Hobbs brood being at school, and theluncheon was received with every sign of approval by the businesspersons who sat to it. Not only were there drapers, chemists, andshop-assistants, but solicitors and barristers, bankers and estateagents, and all quite eager with their praise of my fare. To each ofthese I explained that I should give them but few things, but thatthese would be food in the finest sense of the word, adding that thefault of the American school lay in attempting a too-great profusionof dishes, none of which in consequence could be raised to its highestpower.

  So sound was my theory and so nicely did my simple-dished luncheondemonstrate it that I was engaged on the spot to provide thebi-monthly banquet of the Chamber of Commerce, the president of whichrather seriously proposed that it now be made a monthly affair, sincethey would no longer be at the mercy of a hotel caterer whose ambitionran inversely to his skill. Indeed, after the pudding, I was this dayasked to become a member of the body, and I now felt that I wasindubitably one of them--America and I had taken each other asseriously as could be desired.

  More than once during the afternoon I wondered rather painfully whatthe Honourable George might be doing. I knew that he had been promisedto a meeting of the Onwards and Upwards Club through the influence ofMrs. Effie, where it had been hoped that he would give a talk onCountry Life in England. At least she had hinted to them that he mightdo this, though I had known from the beginning that he would donothing of the sort, and had merely hoped that he would appear for adish of tea and stay quiet, which was as much as the North Side setcould expect of him. Induced to speak, I was quite certain he wouldtell them straight that Country Life in England was silly rot, andthat was all to it. Now, not having seen him during the day, I couldbut hope that he had attended the gathering in suitable afternoonattire, and that he would have divined that the cattle-person's hatdid not coordinate with this.

  At four-thirty, while I was still concerned over the possiblemisadventures of the Honourable George, my first patrons for tea beganto arrive, for I had let it be known that I should specialize in this.Toasted crumpets there were, and muffins, and a tea cake rich withplums, and tea, I need not say, which was all that tea could be.Several tables were filled with prominent ladies of the North Sideset, who were loud in their exclamations of delight, especially at thefinished smartness of my service, for it was perhaps now that theprofoundly serious thought I had given to my silver, linen, andglassware showed to best advantage. I suspect that this was the firsttime many of my guests had encountered a tea cozy, since from that daythey began to be prevalent in Red Gap homes. Also my wagon containingthe crumpets, muffins, tea cake, jam and bread-and-butter, which I nowused for the first time created a veritable sensation.

  There was an agreeable hum of chatter from these early comers when Ifound myself welcoming Mrs. Judge Ballard and half a dozen members ofthe Onwards and Upwards Club, all of them wearing what I made out tobe a baffled look. From these I presently managed to gather that theirguest of honour for the afternoon had simply not appeared, and thatthe meeting, after awaiting him for two hours, had dissolved in someresentment, the time having been spent chiefly in an unflatteringdissection of the Klondike woman's behaviour the evening before.

  "He is a naughty man to disappoint us so cruelly!" declared Mrs. JudgeBallard of the Honourable George, but the coquetry of it was feignedto cover a very real irritation. I made haste with possible excuses. Isaid that he might be ill, or that important letters in that day'spost might have detained him. I knew he had been astonishingly wellthat morning, also that he loathed letters and almost practicallynever received any; but something had to be said.

  "A naughty, naughty fellow!" repeated Mrs. Ballard, and the members ofher party echoed it. They had looked forward rather pathetically, Isaw, to hearing about Country Life in England from one who had livedit.

  I was now drawn to greet the Belknap-Jacksons, who entered, and to thepleasure of winning their hearty approval for the perfection of myarrangements. As the wife presently joined Mrs. Ballard's group, thehusband called me to his table and disclosed that almost the worstmight be feared of the Honourable George. He was at that moment, itappeared, with a rabble of cow-persons and members of the lower classgathered at a stockade at the edge of town, where various nativehorses fresh from the wilderness were being taught to be ridden.

  "The wretched Floud is with him," continued my informant, "also theTuttle chap, who continues to be received by our best people in spiteof my remonstrances, and he yells quite like a demon when one of theriders is thrown. I passed as quickly as I could. The spectaclewas--of course I make allowances for Vane-Basingwell's ignorance ofour standards--it was nothing short of disgusting; a man of hisposition consorting with the herd!"

  "He told me no longer ago than this morning," I said, "that he wasgoing to take up America."

  "He _has_!" said Belknap-Jackson with bitter emphasis. "Youshould see what he has on--a cowboy hat and chapps!
And the verylowest of them are calling him 'Judge'!"

  "He flunked a meeting of the Onwards and Upwards Society," I added.

  "I know! I know! And who could have expected it in one of his lineage?At this very moment he should be conducting himself as one of hisclass. Can you wonder at my impatience with the West? Here at an hourwhen our social life should be in evidence, when all trade should beforgotten, I am the only man in the town who shows himself in atea-room; and Vane-Basingwell over there debasing himself with ourcommonest sort!"

  All at once I saw that I myself must bear the brunt of this scandal. Ihad brought hither the Honourable George, promising a personage whowould for once and all unify the North Side set and perhapsdisintegrate its rival. I had been felicitated upon my master-stroke.And now it seemed I had come a cropper. But I resolved not to give up,and said as much now to Belknap-Jackson.

  "I may be blamed for bringing him among you, but trust me if thingsare really as bad as they seem, I'll get him off again. I'll not letmyself be bowled by such a silly lob as that. Trust me to devoteprofound thought to this problem."

  "We all have every confidence in you," he assured me, "but don't betoo severe all at once with the chap. He might recover a sane balanceeven yet."

  "I shall use discretion," I assured him, "but if it proves that I havefluffed my catch, rely upon me to use extreme measures."

  "Red Gap needs your best effort," he replied in a voice that brimmedwith feeling.

  At five-thirty, my rush being over, I repaired to the neighbourhoodwhere the Honourable George had been reported. The stockade nowcontained only a half-score of the untaught horses, but across theroad from it was a public house, or saloon, from which cameunmistakable sounds of carousing. It was an unsavoury place,frequented only by cattle and horse persons, the proprietor being anabandoned character named Spilmer, who had once done a patron to deathin a drunken quarrel. Only slight legal difficulties had been made forhim, however, it having been pleaded that he acted in self-defence,and the creature had at once resumed his trade as publican. There waseven public sympathy for him at the time on the ground that hepossessed a blind mother, though I have never been able to see thatthis should have been a factor in adjudging him.

  I paused now before the low place, imagining I could detect the tonesof the Honourable George high above the chorus that came out to me.Deciding that in any event it would not become me to enter a resort ofthis stamp, I walked slowly back toward the more reputable part oftown, and was presently rewarded by seeing the crowd emerge. It wasled, I saw, by the Honourable George. The cattle-hat was still downupon his ears, and to my horror he had come upon the publicthoroughfare with his legs encased in the chapps--a species ofleathern pantalettes covered with goat's wool--a garment which I neednot say no gentleman should be seen abroad in. As worn by thecow-persons in their daily toil they are only just possible, being asfar from true vogue as anything well could be.

  Accompanying him were Cousin Egbert, the Indian Tuttle, thecow-persons, Hank and Buck, and three or four others of the same roughstamp. Unobtrusively I followed them to our main thoroughfare, deeplyhumiliated by the atrocious spectacle the Honourable George was makingof himself, only to observe them turn into another public houseentitled "The Family Liquor Store," where it seemed only too certain,since the bearing of all was highly animated, that they would againcarouse.

  At once seeing my duty, I boldly entered, finding them aligned againstthe American bar and clamouring for drink. My welcome was heartfelt,even enthusiastic, almost every one of them beginning to regale mewith incidents of the afternoon's horse-breaking. The HonourableGeorge, it seemed, had himself briefly mounted one of the animals,having fallen into the belief that the cow-persons did not tryearnestly enough to stay on their mounts. I gathered that oneexperience had dissuaded him from this opinion.

  "That there little paint horse," observed Cousin Egbert genially,"stepped out from under the Judge the prettiest you ever saw."

  "He sure did," remarked the Honourable George, with a palpable effortto speak the American brogue. "A most flighty beast he was--nerves allgone--I dare say a hopeless neurasthenic."

  And then when I would have rebuked him for so shamefully disappointingthe ladies of the Onwards and Upwards Society, he began to tell me ofthe public house he had just left.

  "I say, you know that Spilmer chap, he's a genuine murderer--he let mehold the weapon with which he did it--and he has blind relativesdependent upon him, or something of that sort, otherwise I fancythey'd have sent him to the gallows. And, by Gad! he's a wittyscoundrel, what! Looking at his sign--leaving the settlement it reads,'Last Chance,' but entering the settlement it reads, 'First Chance.'Last chance and first chance for a peg, do you see what I mean? Itried it out; walked both ways under the sign and looked up; it workedperfectly. Enter the settlement, 'First Chance'; leave the settlement,'Last Chance.' Do you see what I mean? Suggestive, what! Witty! You'dnever have expected that murderer-Johnny to be so subtle. Our ownmurderers aren't that way. I say, it's a tremendous wheeze. I wonderthe press-chaps don't take it up. It's better than the blind factory,though the chap's mother or something is blind. What ho! But that'ssilly! To be sure one has nothing to do with the other. I say, haveanother, you chaps! I've not felt so fit in ages. I'm going to take upAmerica!"

  Plainly it was no occasion to use serious words to the man. He slappedhis companions smartly on their backs and was slapped in turn by allof them. One or two of them called him an old horse! Not only was Idoing no good for the North Side set, but I had felt obliged toconsume two glasses of spirits that I did not wish. So I discreetlywithdrew. As I went, the Honourable George was again telling them thathe was "going in" for North America, and Cousin Egbert was calling"Three rousing cheers!"

  Thus luridly began, I may say, a scandal that was to be far-reachingin its dreadful effects. Far from feeling a proper shame on thefollowing day, the Honourable George was as pleased as Punch withhimself, declaring his intention of again consorting with the cattleand horse persons and very definitely declining an invitation to playat golf with Belknap-Jackson.

  "Golf!" he spluttered. "You do it, and then you've directly to do itall over again. I mean to say, one gets nowhere. A silly game--what!"

  Wishing to be in no manner held responsible for his vicious pursuits,I that day removed my diggings from the Floud home to chambers in thePettengill block above the Grill, where I did myself quite nicely withdecent mantel ornaments, some vivacious prints of old-worldcathedrals, and a few good books, having for body-servant one of theHobbs lads who seemed rather teachable. I must admit, however, that Iwas frequently obliged to address him more sharply than one shouldever address one's servant, my theory having always been that aserving person should be treated quite as if he were a gentlemantemporarily performing menial duties, but there was that strain oflowness in all the Hobbses which often forbade this, a blending ofservility with more or less skilfully dissembled impertinence, which Idare say is the distinguishing mark of our lower-class serving people.

  Removed now from the immediate and more intimate effects of theHonourable George's digressions, I was privileged for days at a timeto devote my attention exclusively to my enterprise. It had thrivenfrom the beginning, and after a month I had so perfected the minordetails of management that everything was right as rain. In mycatering I continued to steer a middle course between the Britishschool of plain roast and boiled and a too often piffling Frenchcomplexity, seeking to retain the desirable features of each. Myluncheons for the tradesmen rather held to a cut from the joint withvegetables and a suitable sweet, while in my dinners I relaxed a bitinto somewhat imaginative salads and entrees. For the tea-hour Iconstantly strove to provide some appetizing novelty, often, Iconfess, sacrificing nutrition to mere sightliness in view of myalmost exclusive feminine patronage, yet never carrying this to anundignified extreme.

  As a result of my sound judgment, dinner-giving in Red Gap began thatwinter to be done almost entirely in my place. There might be smal
linformal affairs at home, but for dinners of any pretension thehostesses of the North Side set came to me, relying almost quiteentirely upon my taste in the selection of the menu. Although at firstI was required to employ unlimited tact in dissuading them fromstrange and laboured concoctions, whose photographs they fetched mefrom their women's magazines, I at length converted them from thisunwholesome striving for novelty and laid the foundations for thatsound scheme of gastronomy which to-day distinguishes thisfastest-growing town in the state, if not in the West of America.

  It was during these early months, I ought perhaps to say, that Irather distinguished myself in the matter of a relish which Icompounded one day when there was a cold round of beef for luncheon.Little dreaming of the magnitude of the moment, I brought togetherEnglish mustard and the American tomato catsup, in proportions whichfor reasons that will be made obvious I do not here disclose, togetherwith three other and lesser condiments whose identity also must remaina secret. Serving this with my cold joint, I was rather amazed at thesensation it created. My patrons clamoured for it repeatedly and abarrister wished me to prepare a flask of it for use in his home. Thefollowing day it was again demanded and other requests were made forprivate supplies, while by the end of the week my relish had becomerather famous. Followed a suggestion from Mrs. Judson as sheoverlooked my preparation of it one day from her own task of polishingthe glassware.

  "Put it on the market," said she, and at once I felt the inspirationof her idea. To her I entrusted the formula. I procured a quantity ofsuitable flasks, while in her own home she compounded the stuff andfilled them. Having no mind to claim credit not my own, I may now saythat this rather remarkable woman also evolved the idea of the label,including the name, which was pasted upon the bottles when our productwas launched.

  "Ruggles' International Relish" she had named it after a moment'sthought. Below was a print of my face taken from an excellentphotographic portrait, followed by a brief summary of the article'sunsurpassed excellence, together with a list of the viands for whichit was commended. As the International Relish is now a matter ofhistory, the demand for it having spread as far east as Chicago andthose places, I may add that it was this capable woman again whodevised the large placard for hoardings in which a middle-aged butglowing bon-vivant in evening dress rebukes the blackamoor who hasserved his dinner for not having at once placed Ruggles' InternationalRelish upon the table. The genial annoyance of the diner and theapologetic concern of the black are excellently depicted by theartist, for the original drawing of which I paid a stiffish price tothe leading artist fellow of Spokane. This now adorns the wall of mysitting-room.

  It must not be supposed that I had been free during these months fromannoyance and chagrin at the manner in which the Honourable George wasconducting himself. In the beginning it was hoped both byBelknap-Jackson and myself that he might do no worse than merelyconsort with the rougher element of the town. I mean to say, wesuspected that the apparent charm of the raffish cattle-persons mightsuffice to keep him from any notorious alliance with the dreadedBohemian set. So long as he abstained from this he might still bereceived at our best homes, despite his regrettable fondness for lowcompany. Even when he brought the murderer Spilmer to dine with him atmy place, the thing was condoned as a freakish grotesquerie in onewho, of unassailable social position, might well afford to stoopmomentarily.

  I must say that the murderer--a heavy-jowled brute of husky voice, andquite lacking a forehead--conducted himself on this occasion with anentirely decent restraint of manner, quite in contrast to theHonourable George, who betrayed an expansively naive pride in hisguest, seeming to wish the world to know of the event. Between themthey consumed a fair bottle of the relish. Indeed, the HonourableGeorge was inordinately fond of this, as a result of which he wouldoften come out quite spotty again. Cousin Egbert was another whobecame so addicted to it that his fondness might well have been calleda vice. Both he and the Honourable George would drench quite everycourse with the sauce, and Cousin Egbert, with that explicitdirectness which distinguished his character, would frankly sop hisbread-crusts in it, or even sip it with a coffee-spoon.

  As I have intimated, in spite of the Honourable George's affiliationswith the slum-characters of what I may call Red Gap's East End, he hadnot yet publicly identified himself with the Klondike woman and herBohemian set, in consequence of which--let him dine and wine a Spilmeras he would--there was yet hope that he would not alienate himselffrom the North Side set.

  At intervals during the early months of his sojourn among us heaccepted dinner invitations at the Grill from our social leaders; infact, after the launching of the International Relish, I know of nonethat he declined, but it was evident to me that he moved buthalf-heartedly in this higher circle. On one occasion, too, heappeared in the trousers of a lounge-suit of tweeds instead of hisdress trousers, and with tan boots. The trousers, to be sure, were ofa sombre hue, but the brown boots were quite too dreadfullyunmistakable. After this I may say that I looked for anything, and myworst fears were soon confirmed.

  It began as the vaguest sort of gossip. The Honourable George, it wassaid, had been a guest at one of the Klondike woman's evening affairs.The rumour crystallized. He had been asked to meet the Bohemian set ata Dutch supper and had gone. He had lingered until a late hour,dancing the American folkdances (for which he had shown a surprisingadaptability) and conducting himself generally as the next Earl ofBrinstead should not have done. He had repeated his visit, repairingto the woman's house both afternoon and evening. He had become aconstant visitor. He had spoken regrettably of the dulness of ameeting of the Onwards and Upwards Society which he had attended. Hewas in the woman's toils.

  With gossip of this sort there was naturally much indignation, and yetthe leaders of the North Side set were so delicately placed that therewas every reason for concealing it. They redoubled their attentions tothe unfortunate man, seeking to leave him not an unoccupied evening orafternoon. Such was the gravity of the crisis. Belknap-Jackson aloneremained finely judicial.

  "The situation is of the gravest character," he confided to me, "butwe must be wary. The day isn't lost so long as he doesn't appearpublicly in the creature's train. For the present we have onlyunverified rumour. As a man about town Vane-Basingwell may feel freeto consort with vicious companions and still maintain his properstanding. Deplore it as all right-thinking people must, under presentsocial conditions he is undoubtedly free to lead what is called adouble life. We can only wait."

  Such was the state of the public mind, be it understood, up to thetime of the notorious and scandalous defection of this obsessedcreature, an occasion which I cannot recall without shuddering, andwhich inspired me to a course that was later to have the mostinexplicable and far-reaching consequences.

  Theatrical plays had been numerous with us during the season, with thenatural result of many after-theatre suppers being given by those whoattended, among them the North Side leaders, and frequently theKlondike woman with her following. On several of these occasions,moreover, the latter brought as supper guests certain representativesof the theatrical profession, both male and female, she apparentlyhaving a wide acquaintance with such persons. That this sort of thingincreased her unpopularity with the North Side set will be understoodwhen I add that now and then her guests would be of undoubtedrespectability in their private lives, as theatrical persons oftenare, and such as our smartest hostesses would have been only too gladto entertain.

  To counteract this effect Belknap-Jackson now broached to me a plan ofundoubted merit, which was nothing less than to hold an afternoonreception at his home in honour of the world's greatest pianoforteartist, who was presently to give a recital in Red Gap.

  "I've not met the chap myself," he began, "but I knew his secretaryand travelling companion quite well in a happier day in Boston. Therecital here will be Saturday evening, which means that they willremain here on Sunday until the evening train East. I shall suggest tomy friend that his employer, to while away the tedium of the Sunday
,might care to look in upon me in the afternoon and meet a few of ourbest people. Nothing boring, of course. I've no doubt he will arrangeit. I've written him to Portland, where they now are."

  "Rather a card that will be," I instantly cried. "Rather better classthan entertaining strolling players." Indeed the merit of the proposalrather overwhelmed me. It would be dignified and yet spectacular. Itwould show the Klondike woman that we chose to have contact only withartists of acknowledged preeminence and that such were quite willingto accept our courtesies. I had hopes, too, that the Honourable Georgemight be aroused to advantages which he seemed bent upon casting tothe American winds.

  A week later Belknap-Jackson joyously informed me that the greatartist had consented to accept his hospitality. There would be lightrefreshments, with which I was charged. I suggested tea in the Russianmanner, which he applauded.

  "And everything dainty in the way of food," he warned me. "Nothingcommon, nothing heavy. Some of those tiny lettuce sandwiches, a bit ofcaviare, macaroons--nothing gross--a decanter of dry sherry, perhaps,a few of the lightest wafers; things that cultivated persons maytrifle with--things not repugnant to the artist soul."

  I promised my profoundest consideration to these matters.

  "And it occurs to me," he thoughtfully added, "that this may be a timefor Vane-Basingwell to silence the slurs upon himself that arebecoming so common. I shall beg him to meet our guest at his hotel andescort him to my place. A note to my friend, 'the bearer, theHonourable George Augustus Vane-Basingwell, brother of his lordshipthe Earl of Brinstead, will take great pleasure in escorting to myhome----' You get the idea? Not bad!"

  Again I applauded, resolving that for once the Honourable George wouldbe suitably attired even if I had to bully him. And so was launchedwhat promised to be Red Gap's most notable social event of the season.The Honourable George, being consulted, promised after a rather sulkyhesitation to act as the great artist's escort, though he persisted inreferring to him as "that piano Johnny," and betrayed a suspicion thatBelknap-Jackson was merely bent upon getting him to perform withoutprice.

  "But no," cried Belknap-Jackson, "I should never think of anything soindelicate as asking him to play. My own piano will be tightly closedand I dare say removed to another room."

  At this the Honourable George professed to wonder why the chap wasdesired if he wasn't to perform. "All hair and bad English--sillybrutes when they don't play," he declared. In the end, however, as Ihave said, he consented to act as he was wished to. Cousin Egbert, whowas present at this interview, took somewhat the same view as theHonourable George, even asserting that he should not attend therecital.

  "He don't sing, he don't dance, he don't recite; just plays the piano.That ain't any kind of a show for folks to set up a whole eveningfor," he protested bitterly, and he went on to mention varioustheatrical pieces which he had considered worthy, among them I recallbeing one entitled "The Two Johns," which he regretted not havingwitnessed for several years, and another called "Ben Hur," which wasbetter than all the piano players alive, he declared. But with theHonourable George enlisted, both Belknap-Jackson and I considered theopinions of Cousin Egbert to be quite wholly negligible.

  Saturday's _Recorder_, in its advance notice of the recital,announced that the Belknap-Jacksons of Boston and Red Gap wouldentertain the artist on the following afternoon at their palatial homein the Pettengill addition, where a select few of the North Side sethad been invited to meet him. Belknap-Jackson himself was as a manuplifted. He constantly revised and re-revised his invitation list; hesought me out each day to suggest subtle changes in the very artisticmenu I had prepared for the affair. His last touch was to supplementthe decanter of sherry with a bottle of vodka. About the caviare heworried quite fearfully until it proved upon arrival to be fresh andof prime quality. My man, the Hobbs boy, had under my instructionspressed and smarted the Honourable George's suit for afternoon wear.The carriage was engaged. Saturday night it was tremendously certainthat no hitch could occur to mar the affair. We had left no detail tochance.

  The recital itself was quite all that could have been expected, butunderneath the enthusiastic applause there ran even a more intensefervour among those fortunate ones who were to meet the artist on themorrow.

  Belknap-Jackson knew himself to be a hero. He was elaborately cool. Hesmiled tolerantly at intervals and undoubtedly applauded with theleast hint of languid proprietorship in his manner. He was heard tospeak of the artist by his first name. The Klondike woman and many ofher Bohemian set were prominently among those present and sustainedglances of pitying triumph from those members of the North Side set sosoon to be distinguished above her.

  The morrow dawned auspiciously, very cloudy with smartish drives ofwind and rain. Confined to the dingy squalor of his hotel, how gladlywould the artist, it was felt, seek the refined cheer of one of ourbest homes where he would be enlivened by an hour or so of contactwith our most cultivated people. Belknap-Jackson telephoned me withincreasing frequency as the hour drew near, nervously seeming to dreadthat I would have overlooked some detail of his refined refreshments,or that I would not have them at his house on time. He telephonedoften to the Honourable George to be assured that the carriage withits escort would be prompt. He telephoned repeatedly to the driverchap, to impress upon him the importance of his mission.

  His guests began to arrive even before I had decked his sideboard withwhat was, I have no hesitation in declaring, the most superbly daintybuffet collation that Red Gap had ever beheld. The atmosphere at oncebecame tense with expectation.

  At three o'clock the host announced from the telephone:"Vane-Basingwell has started from the Floud house." The gueststhrilled and hushed the careless chatter of new arrivals.Belknap-Jackson remained heroically at the telephone, having demandedto be put through to the hotel. He was flushed with excitement. Ascore of minutes later he announced with an effort to control hisvoice: "They have left the hotel--they are on the way."

  The guests stiffened in their seats. Some of them nervously and for noapparent reason exchanged chairs with others. Some late arrivalsbustled in and were immediately awed to the same electric silence ofwaiting. Belknap-Jackson placed the sherry decanter where the vodkabottle had been and the vodka bottle where the sherry decanter hadbeen. "The effect is better," he remarked, and went to stand where hecould view the driveway. The moments passed.

  At such crises, which I need not say have been plentiful in my life, Ihave always known that I possessed an immense reserve of coolness.Seldom have I ever been so much as slightly flustered. Now I wascalmness itself, and the knowledge brought me no little satisfactionas I noted the rather painful distraction of our host. The momentspassed--long, heavy, silent moments. Our host ascended trippingly toan upper floor whence he could see farther down the drive. The guestsheld themselves in smiling readiness. Our host descended and againtook up his post at a lower window.

  The moments passed--stilled, leaden moments. The silence had becomeintolerable. Our host jiggled on his feet. Some of the quicker-mindedguests made a pretence of little conversational flurries: "That secondmovement--oh, exquisitely rendered!... No one has ever read Chopin sodivinely.... How his family must idolize him!... They say.... Thatexquisite concerto!... Hasn't he the most stunning hair.... Thosestaccato passages left me actually limp--I'm starting Myrtle inTuesday to take of Professor Gluckstein. She wants to takestenography, but I tell her.... Did you think the preludes were justthe tiniest bit idealized.... I always say if one has one's music, andone's books, of course--He must be very, _very_ fond of music!"

  Such were the hushed, tentative fragments I caught.

  The moments passed. Belknap-Jackson went to the telephone. "What? Butthey're not here! Very strange! They should have been here half anhour ago. Send some one--yes, at once." In the ensuing silence herepaired to the buffet and drank a glass of vodka. Quite distraught hewas.

  The moments passed. Again several guests exchanged seats with otherguests. It seemed to be a device for relieving the
strain. Once morethere were scattering efforts at normal talk. "Myrtle is a strangegirl--a creature of moods, I call her. She wanted to act in the movingpictures until papa bought the car. And she knows every one of the newtango steps, but I tell her a few lessons in cooking wouldn't--BerylMae is just the same puzzling child; one thing one day, and anotherthing the next; a mere bundle of nerves, and so sensitive if you saythe least little thing to her ... If we could only get Ling Wongback--this Jap boy is always threatening to leave if the men don't getup to breakfast on time, or if Gertie makes fudge in his kitchen of anafternoon ... Our boy sends all his wages to his uncle in China, but Isimply can't get him to say, 'Dinner is served.' He just slides in andsays, 'All right, you come!' It's very annoying, but I always tell thefamily, 'Remember what a time we had with the Swede----'"

  I mean to say, things were becoming rapidly impossible. The momentspassed. Belknap-Jackson again telephoned: "You did send a man afterthem? Send some one after him, then. Yes, at once!" He poured himselfanother peg of the vodka. Silence fell again. The waiting was terrific.We had endured an hour of it, and but little more was possible to anysensitive human organism. All at once, as if the very last possiblemoment of silence had passed, the conversation broke loudly andgenerally: "And did you notice that slimpsy thing she wore lastnight? Indecent, if you ask me, with not a petticoat under it, I'llbe bound!... Always wears shoes twice too small for her ... What mencan see in her ... How they can endure that perpetual smirk!..." Theywere at last discussing the Klondike woman, and whatever had befallenour guest of honour I knew that those present would never regain theirfirst awe of the occasion. It was now unrestrained gabble.

  The second hour passed quickly enough, the latter half of it beingenlivened by the buffet collation which elicited many compliments uponmy ingenuity and good taste. Quite almost every guest partook of aglass of the vodka. They chattered of everything but music, I dare sayit being thought graceful to ignore the afternoon's disaster.

  Belknap-Jackson had sunk into a mood of sullen desperation. He drainedthe vodka bottle. Perhaps the liquor brought him something of thechill Russian fatalism. He was dignified but sodden, with a depressionthat seemed to blow from the bleak Siberian steppes. His wife wasalready receiving the adieus of their guests. She was smoulderingominously, uncertain where the blame lay, but certain there was blame.Criminal blame! I could read as much in her narrowed eyes as shetried for aplomb with her guests.

  My own leave I took unobtrusively. I knew our strangely missing guestwas to depart by the six-two train, and I strolled toward the station.A block away I halted, waiting. It had been a time of waiting. Themoments passed. I heard the whistle of the approaching train. At thesame moment I was startled by the approach of a team that I took to berunning away.

  I saw it was the carriage of the Pierce chap and that he was drivingwith the most abandoned recklessness. His passengers were theHonourable George, Cousin Egbert, and our missing guest. The greatartist as they passed me seemed to feel a vast delight in his wildride. He was cheering on the driver. He waved his arms and himselfshouted to the maddened horses. The carriage drew up to the stationwith the train, and the three descended.

  The artist hurriedly shook hands in the warmest manner with hiscompanions, including the Pierce chap, who had driven them. Hebeckoned to his secretary, who was waiting with his bags. He mountedthe steps of the coach, and as the train pulled out he wavedfrantically to the three. He kissed his hand to them, looking far outas the train gathered momentum. Again and again he kissed his hand tothe hat-waving trio.

  It was too much. The strain of the afternoon had told even upon my owniron nerves. I felt unequal at that moment to the simplest inquiry,and plainly the situation was not one to attack in haste. I mean tosay, it was too pregnant with meaning. I withdrew rapidly from thescene, feeling the need for rest and silence.

  As I walked I meditated profoundly.