Ruggles of Red Gap

by Harry Leon Wilson

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  From the innocent lips of Cousin Egbert the following morning therefell a tale of such cold-blooded depravity that I found myself withdifficulty giving it credit. At ten o'clock, while I still musedpensively over the events of the previous day, he entered the Grill insearch of breakfast, as had lately become his habit. I greeted himwith perceptible restraint, not knowing what guilt might be his, buthis manner to me was so unconsciously genial that I at once acquittedhim of any complicity in whatever base doings had been forward.

  He took his accustomed seat with a pleasant word to me. I waited.

  "Feeling a mite off this morning," he began, "account of a lot oftruck I eat yesterday. I guess I'll just take something kind ofdainty. Tell Clarice to cook me up a nice little steak with plenty offat on it, and some fried potatoes, and a cup of coffee and a fewwaffles to come. The Judge he wouldn't get up yet. He looked kind ofmottled and anguished, but I guess he'll pull around all right. I hadthe chink take him up about a gallon of strong tea. Say, listen here,the Judge ain't so awful much of a stayer, is he?"

  Burning with curiosity I was to learn what he could tell me of the daybefore, yet I controlled myself to the calmest of leisurelyquestioning in order not to alarm him. It was too plain that he had norealization of what had occurred. It was always the way with him, Ihad noticed. Events the most momentous might culminate furiously abouthis head, but he never knew that anything had happened.

  "The Honourable George," I began, "was with you yesterday? Perhaps heate something he shouldn't."

  "He did, he did; he done it repeatedly. He et pretty near as much ofthat sauerkraut and frankfurters as the piano guy himself did, andthat's some tribute, believe me, Bill! Some tribute!"

  "The piano guy?" I murmured quite casually.

  "And say, listen here, that guy is all right if anybody should askyou. You talk about your mixers!"

  This was a bit puzzling, for of course I had never "talked about mymixers." I shouldn't a bit know how to go on. I ventured anotherquery.

  "Where was it this mixing and that sort of thing took place?"

  "Why, up at Mis' Kenner's, where we was having a little party:frankfurters and sauerkraut and beer. My stars! but that steak looksgood. I'm feeling better already." His food was before him, and heattacked it with no end of spirit.

  "Tell me quite all about it," I amiably suggested, and after amoment's hurried devotion to the steak, he slowed up a bit to talk.

  "Well, listen here, now. The Judge says to me when Eddie Pierce comes,'Sour-dough,' he says, 'look in at Mis' Kenner's this afternoon if yougot nothing else on; I fancy it will repay you.' Just like that.'Well,' I says, 'all right, Judge, I fancy I will. I fancy I ain't gotanything else on,' I says. 'And I'm always glad to go there,' I says,because no matter what they're always saying about this here Bohemianstuff, Kate Kenner is one good scout, take it from me. So in a littlewhile I slicked up some and went on around to her house. Then hitchedoutside I seen Eddie Pierce's hack, and I says, 'My lands! that's afunny thing,' I says. 'I thought the Judge was going to haul this herepiano guy out to the Jackson place where he could while away thetejum, like Jackson said, and now it looks as if they was here. Ormebbe it's just Eddie himself that has fancied to look in, not havinganything else on.'

  "Well, so anyway I go up on the stoop and knock, and when I get in theparlour there the piano guy is and the Judge and Eddie Pierce, too,Eddie helping the Jap around with frankfurters and sauerkraut and beerand one thing and another.

  "Besides them was about a dozen of Mis' Kenner's own particularfriends, all of 'em good scouts, let me tell you, and everybodylaughing and gassing back and forth and cutting up and having a goodtime all around. Well, so as soon as they seen me, everybody says,'Oh, here comes Sour-dough--good old Sour-dough!' and all like that,and they introduced me to the piano guy, who gets up to shake handswith me and spills his beer off the chair arm on to the wife of EddieFosdick in the Farmers' and Merchants' National, and so I sat down andet with 'em and had a few steins of beer, and everybody had a goodtime all around."

  The wonderful man appeared to believe that he had told me quite all ofinterest concerning this monstrous festivity. He surveyed themutilated remnant of his steak and said: "I guess Clarice might aswell fry me a few eggs. I'm feeling a lot better." I directed thatthis be done, musing upon the dreadful menu he had recited andrecalling the exquisite finish of the collation I myself had prepared.Sausages, to be sure, have their place, and beer as well, butsauerkraut I have never been able to regard as an at all possible foodfor persons that really matter. Germans, to be sure!

  Discreetly I renewed my inquiry: "I dare say the Honourable George wasin good form?" I suggested.

  "Well, he et a lot. Him and the piano guy was bragging which could eatthe most sausages."

  I was unable to restrain a shudder at the thought of this revoltingcontest.

  "The piano guy beat him out, though. He'd been at the Palace Hotel forthree meals and I guess his appetite was right craving."

  "And afterward?"

  "Well, it was like Jackson said: this lad wanted to while away thetejum of a Sunday afternoon, and so he whiled it, that's all. Purtysoon Mis' Kenner set down to the piano and sung some coon songs thattickled him most to death, and then she got to playing ragtime--say,believe me, Bill, when she starts in on that rag stuff she can make apiano simply stutter itself to death.

  {Illustration: MIS' KENNER SET DOWN TO THE PIANO AND SUNG SOME COONSONGS THAT TICKLED HIM MOST TO DEATH}

  "Well, at that the piano guy says it's great stuff, and so he setsdown himself to try it, and he catches on pretty good, I'll say thatfor him, so we got to dancing while he plays for us, only he don'tremember the tunes good and has to fake a lot. Then he makes Mis'Kenner play again while he dances with Mis' Fosdick that he spilledthe beer on, and after that we had some more beer and this guy etanother plate of kraut and a few sausages, and Mis' Kenner sings 'TheRobert E. Lee' and a couple more good ones, and the guy played somemore ragtime himself, trying to get the tunes right, and then heplayed some fancy pieces that he'd practised up on, and we danced someand had a few more beers, with everybody laughing and cutting up andhaving a nice home afternoon.

  "Well, the piano guy enjoyed himself every minute, if anybody asksyou, being lit up like a main chandelier. They made him feel like hewas one of their own folks. You certainly got to hand it to him forbeing one little good mixer. Talk about whiling away the tejum! Hedone it, all right, all right. He whiled away so much tejum there hedarned near missed his train. Eddie Pierce kept telling him what timeit was, only he'd keep asking Mis' Kenner to play just one more rag,and at last we had to just shoot him into his fur overcoat while hewas kissing all the women on their hands, and we'd have missed thetrain at that if Eddie hadn't poured the leather into them skates ofhis all the way down to the dee-po. He just did make it, and he toldthe Judge and Eddie and me that he ain't had such a good time since heleft home. I kind of hated to see him go."

  He here attacked the eggs with what seemed to be a freshening of hisremarkable appetite. And as yet, be it noted, I had detected noconsciousness on his part that a foul betrayal of confidence had beencommitted. I approached the point.

  "The Belknap-Jacksons were rather expecting him, you know. Myimpression was that the Honourable George had been sent to escort himto the Belknap-Jackson house."

  "Well, that's what I thought, too, but I guess the Judge forgot it, ormebbe he thinks the guy will mix in better with Mis' Kenner's crowd.Anyway, there they was, and it probably didn't make any difference tothe guy himself. He likely thought he could while away the tejum thereas well as he could while it any place, all of them being such goodscouts. And the Judge has certainly got a case on Mis' Kenner, somebby she asked him to drop in with any friend of his. She's got himbridle-wise and broke to all gaits." He visibly groped for anillumining phrase. "He--he just looks at her."

  The simple words fell upon my ears with a sickening finality. "He justlooks at her."
I had seen him "just look" at the typing-girl and atthe Brixton milliner. All too fearfully I divined their preposteroussignificance. Beyond question a black infamy had been laid bare, but Imade no effort to convey its magnitude to my guileless informant. As Ileft him he was mildly bemoaning his own lack of skill on thepianoforte.

  "Darned if I don't wish I'd 'a' took some lessons on the piano myselflike that guy done. It certainly does help to while away the tejumwhen you got friends in for the afternoon. But then I was just ahill-billy. Likely I couldn't have learned the notes good."

  It was a half-hour later that I was called to the telephone to listento the anguished accents of Belknap-Jackson.

  "Have you heard it?" he called. I answered that I had.

  "The man is a paranoiac. He should be at once confined in an asylumfor the criminal insane."

  "I shall row him fiercely about it, never fear. I've not seen himyet."

  "But the creature should be watched. He may do harm to himself or tosome innocent person. They--they run wild, they kill, they burn--setfire to buildings--that sort of thing. I tell you, none of us issafe."

  "The situation," I answered, "has even more shocking possibilities,but I've an idea I shall be equal to it. If the worst seems to beimminent I shall adopt extreme measures." I closed the interview. Itwas too painful. I wished to summon all my powers of deliberation.

  To my amazement who should presently appear among my throng ofluncheon patrons but the Honourable George. I will not say that heslunk in, but there was an unaccustomed diffidence in his bearing. Hedid not meet my eye, and it was not difficult to perceive that he hadno wish to engage my notice. As he sought a vacant table I observedthat he was spotted quite profusely, and his luncheon order was of thesimplest.

  Straight I went to him. He winced a bit, I thought, as he saw meapproach, but then he apparently resolved to brass it out, for heglanced full at me with a terrific assumption of bravado and at oncebegan to give me beans about my service.

  "Your bally tea shop running down, what! Louts for waiters, cloddishlouts! Disgraceful, my word! Slow beggars! Take a year to do you arasher and a bit of toast, what!"

  To this absurd tirade I replied not a word, but stood silentlyregarding him. I dare say my gaze was of the most chilling characterand steady. He endured it but a moment. His eyes fell, his bravadovanished, he fumbled with the cutlery. Quite abashed he was.

  "Come, your explanation!" I said curtly, divining that the moment wasone in which to adopt a tone with him. He wriggled a bit, crumpling aroll with panic fingers.

  "Come, come!" I commanded.

  His face brightened, though with an intention most obviously false. Hecoughed--a cough of pure deception. Not only were his eyes avertedfrom mine, but they were glassed to an uncanny degree. The fingerswrought piteously at the now plastic roll.

  "My word, the chap was taken bad; had to be seen to, what! Revived, Imean to say. All piano Johnnies that way--nervous wrecks, what!Spells! Spells, man--spells!"

  "Come, come!" I said crisply. The glassed eyes were those of onehypnotized.

  "In the carriage--to the hyphen chap's place, to be sure. Faintingspell--weak heart, what! No stimulants about. Passing house! Perhapshave stimulants--heart tablets, er--beer--things of that sort. Leadhim in. Revive him. Quite well presently, but not well enough to goon. Couldn't let a piano Johnny die on our hands, what! Inquest,evidence, witnesses--all that silly rot. Save his life, what! Presenceof mind! Kind hearts, what! Humanity! Do as much for any chap. Not lethim die like a dog in the gutter, what! Get no credit, though----" Hiscuriously mechanical utterance trailed off to be lost in a mere huskymurmur. The glassy stare was still at my wall.

  I have in the course of my eventful career had occasion to mark thevarying degrees of plausibility with which men speak untruths, butnever, I confidently aver, have I beheld one lie with so piteous afutility. The art--and I dare say with diplomat chaps and that sort itmay properly be called an art--demands as its very essence that thespeaker seem to be himself convinced of the truth of that which heutters. And the Honourable George in his youth mentioned for theForeign Office!

  I turned away. The exhibition was quite too indecent. I left him tomince at his meagre fare. As I glanced his way at odd momentsthereafter, he would be muttering feverishly to himself. I mean tosay, he no longer _was_ himself. He presently made his way to thestreet, looking neither to right nor left. He had, in truth, the dazedmanner of one stupefied by some powerful narcotic. I wonderedpityingly when I should again behold him--if it might be that his poorwits were bedevilled past mending.

  My period of uncertainty was all too brief. Some two hours later, fullinto the tide of our afternoon shopping throng, there issued aspectacle that removed any lingering doubt of the unfortunate man'splight. In the rather smart pony-trap of the Klondike woman, driven bythe person herself, rode the Honourable George. Full in the startledgaze of many of our best people he advertised his defection from allthat makes for a sanely governed stability in our social organism. Hehad gone flagrantly over to the Bohemian set.

  I could detect that his eyes were still glassy, but his head waserect. He seemed to flaunt his shame. And the guilty partner of hisdownfall drove with an affectation of easy carelessness, yet with alift of the chin which, though barely perceptible, had all the effectof binding the prisoner to her chariot wheels; a prisoner, moreover,whom it was plain she meant to parade to the last ignominious degree.She drove leisurely, and in the little infrequent curt turns of herhead to address her companion she contrived to instill so finished aneffect of boredom that she must have goaded to frenzy any matron ofthe North Side set who chanced to observe her, as more than one ofthem did.

  Thrice did she halt along our main thoroughfare for bits of shopping,a mere running into of shops or to the doors of them where she couldissue verbal orders, the while she surveyed her waiting and druggedcaptive with a certain half-veiled but good-humoured insolence. Atthese moments--for I took pains to overlook the shocking scene--theHonourable George followed her with eyes no longer glassed; the eyesof helpless infatuation. "He looks at her," Cousin Egbert had said. Hehad told it all and told it well. The equipage graced our street uponone paltry excuse or another for the better part of an hour, the womanbeing minded that none of us should longer question her supremacy overthe next and eleventh Earl of Brinstead.

  Not for another hour did the effects of the sensation die out amongtradesmen and the street crowds. It was like waves that recede butgradually. They talked. They stopped to talk. They passed on talking.They hissed vivaciously; they rose to exclamations. I mean to say,there was no end of a gabbling row about it.

  There was in my mind no longer any room for hesitation. The quiteharshest of extreme measures must be at once adopted before all wastoo late. I made my way to the telegraph office. It was not a time forcorrespondence by post.

  Afterward I had myself put through by telephone to Belknap-Jackson.With his sensitive nature he had stopped in all day. Although stillaverse to appearing publicly, he now consented to meet me at mychambers late that evening.

  "The whole town is seething with indignation," he called to me. "Itwas disgraceful. I shall come at ten. We rely upon you."

  Again I saw that he was concerned solely with his humiliation as awould-be host. Not yet had he divined that the deluded HonourableGeorge might go to the unspeakable length of a matrimonial alliancewith the woman who had enchained him. And as to his own disaster, hewas less than accurate when he said that the whole town was seethingwith indignation. The members of the North Side set, to be sure, wereseething furiously, but a flippant element of the baser sort was quiteopenly rejoicing. As at the time of that most slanderous minstrelperformance, it was said that the Bohemian set had again, if I havecaught the phrase, "put a thing over upon" the North Side set. Manypersons of low taste seemed quite to enjoy the dreadful affair, andthe members of the Bohemian set, naturally, throughout the day hadbeen quite coarsely beside themselves with glee.

  Little they kne
w, I reflected, what power I could wield nor that I hadalready set in motion its deadly springs. Little did the woman dream,flaunting her triumph up and down our main business thoroughfare, thatone who watched her there had but to raise his hand to wrest thevictim from her toils. Little did she now dream that he would stop atno half measures. I mean to say, she would never think I could bowlher out as easy as buying cockles off a barrow.

  At the hour for our conference Belknap-Jackson arrived at my chambersmuffled in an ulster and with a soft hat well over his face. Igathered that he had not wished to be observed.

  "I feel that this is a crisis," he began as he gloomily shook my hand."Where is our boasted twentieth-century culture if outrages like thisare permitted? For the first time I understand how these Westerncommunities have in the past resorted to mob violence. Public feelingis already running high against the creature and her unspeakable set."

  I met this outburst with the serenity of one who holds the winningcards in his hand, and begged him to be seated. Thereupon I disclosedto him the weakly, susceptible nature of the Honourable George,reciting the incidents of the typing-girl and the Brixton milliner. Iadded that now, as before, I should not hesitate to preserve thefamily honour.

  "A dreadful thing, indeed," he murmured, "if that adventuress shouldtrap him into a marriage. Imagine her one day a Countess of Brinstead!But suppose the fellow prove stubborn; suppose his infatuation dullsall his finer instincts?"

  I explained that the Honourable George, while he might upon the spurof the moment commit a folly, was not to be taken too seriously; thathe was, I believed, quite incapable of a grand passion. I mean to say,he always forgot them after a few days. More like a child staring intoshop-windows he was, rapidly forgetting one desired object in thepresence of others. I added that I had adopted the extremest measures.

  Thereupon, perceiving that I had something in my sleeve, as the sayingis, my caller besought me to confide in him. Without a word I handedhim a copy of my cable message sent that afternoon to his lordship:

  _"Your immediate presence required to prevent a monstrous folly."_

  He brightened as he read it.

  "You actually mean to say----" he began.

  "His lordship," I explained, "will at once understand the nature ofwhat is threatened. He knows, moreover, that I would not alarm himwithout cause. He will come at once, and the Honourable George will betold what. His lordship has never failed. He tells him what perfectly,and that's quite all to it. The poor chap will be saved."

  My caller was profoundly stirred. "Coming here--to Red Gap--hislordship the Earl of Brinstead--actually coming here! My God! This iswonderful!" He paused; he seemed to moisten his dry lips; he beganonce more, and now his voice trembled with emotion: "He will need aplace to stay; our hotel is impossible; had you thought----" Heglanced at me appealingly.

  "I dare say," I replied, "that his lordship will be pleased to haveyou put him up; you would do him quite nicely."

  "You mean it--seriously? That would be--oh, inexpressible. He would beour house guest! The Earl of Brinstead! I fancy that would silence afew of these serpent tongues that are wagging so venomously to-day!"

  "But before his coming," I insisted, "there must be no word of hisarrival. The Honourable George would know the meaning of it, and thewoman, though I suspect now that she is only making a show of him,might go on to the bitter end. They must suspect nothing."

  "I had merely thought of a brief and dignified notice in our press,"he began, quite wistfully, "but if you think it might defeat ourends----"

  "It must wait until he has come."

  "Glorious!" he exclaimed. "It will be even more of a blow to them." Hebegan to murmur as if reading from a journal, "'His lordship the Earlof Brinstead is visiting for a few days'--it will surely be as much asa few days, perhaps a week or more--'is visiting for a few days the C.Belknap-Jacksons of Boston and Red Gap.'" He seemed to regard theprinted words. "Better still, 'The C. Belknap-Jacksons of Boston andRed Gap are for a few days entertaining as their honoured house guesthis lordship the Earl of Brinstead----' Yes, that's admirable."

  He arose and impulsively clasped my hand. "Ruggles, dear old chap, Ishan't know at all how to repay you. The Bohemian set, such as arepossible, will be bound to come over to us. There will be left of itbut one unprincipled woman--and she wretched and an outcast. She hasmade me absurd. I shall grind her under my heel. The east room shallbe prepared for his lordship; he shall breakfast there if he wishes. Ifancy he'll find us rather more like himself than he suspects. Heshall see that we have ideals that are not half bad."

  He wrung my hand again. His eyes were misty with gratitude.