Kindred of the Dust

by Peter B. Kyne

  XLII

  Nan was not at all surprised when, upon responding to a peremptoryknock at her front door she discovered Andrew Daney standing without.The general manager, after his stormy interview with The Laird hadspent two hours in the sunny lee of a lumber pile, waiting for thealcoholic fogs to lift from his brain, for he had had sense enoughleft to realize that all was not well with him; he desired to have histongue in order when he should meet the bride and groom.

  "Good morning, Mr. Daney," Nan greeted him. "Do come in."

  "Good morning, Mrs. McKaye. Thank you. I shall with pleasure."

  He followed her down the little hallway to the living room whereDonald sat with his great thin legs stretched out toward the fire.

  "Don't rise, boy, don't rise," Mr. Daney protested. "I merely calledto kiss the bride and shake your hand, my boy. The visit is entirelyfriendly and unofficial."

  "Mr. Daney, you're a dear," Nan cried, and presented her fair cheekfor the tribute he claimed.

  "Shake hands with a rebel, boy," Mr. Daney cried heartily to Donald."God bless you and may you always be happier than you are thisminute."

  Donald wrung the Daney digits with a heartiness he would not havethought possible a month before.

  "I've quarreled with your father, Donald," he announced, seatinghimself. "Over you--and you," he added, nodding brightly at both youngpeople. "He thinks he's fired me." He paused, glanced around, cougheda couple of times and came out with it. "Well, what are you going todo now to put tobacco in your old tobacco box, Donald?"

  Donald smiled sadly. "Oh, Nan still has a few dollars left from thatmotor-boat swindle you perpetrated, Mr. Daney. She'll take care of mefor a couple of weeks until I'm myself again; then, if my father stillproves recalcitrant and declines to have me connected with the TyeeLumber Company, I'll manage to make a living for Nan and the boysomewhere else."

  Briefly Mr. Daney outlined The Laird's expressed course of action withregard to his son.

  "He means it," Donald assured the general manager. "He never bluffs.He gave me plenty of warning and his decision has not been arrived atin a hurry. He's through with me."

  "I fear he is, my boy. Er-ah-ahem! Harumph-h-h! Do you remember thosebonds you sent me from New York once--the proceeds of your deal inthat Wiskah river cedar?"

  "Yes."

  "Your father desires that you accept the entire two hundred thousanddollars worth and accrued interest."

  "Why?"

  "Well, I suppose he thinks they'll come in handy when you leave PortAgnew."

  "Well, I'm not going to leave Port Agnew, Andrew."

  "Your father instructed me to say to you that he would take it kindlyof you to do so--for obvious reasons."

  "I appreciate his point of view, but since he has kicked me out hehas no claim on my sympathies--at least not to the extent of forcinghis point of view and causing me to abandon my own. Please say to myfather that since I cannot have his forgiveness I do not want hisbonds or his money. Tell him also, please, that I'm not going to leavePort Agnew, because that would predicate a sense of guilt on my partand lend some support to the popular assumption that my wife is not avirtuous woman. I could not possibly oblige my father on this pointbecause to do so would be a violent discourtesy to my wife. I am notashamed of her, you know."

  Mr. Daney gnawed his thumb nail furiously. "'The wicked flee when noman pursueth'," he quoted. "However, Mr. Donald, you know as well as Ido that if your father should forbid it, a dicky bird couldn't make aliving in this town."

  "There are no such restrictions in Darrow, Mr. Daney. Thesuperintendent up there will give me a job on the river."

  Mr. Daney could not forbear an expression of horror. "Hector McKaye'sson a river hog!" he cried incredulously.

  "Well, Donald McKaye's father was a river hog, wasn't he?"

  "Oh, but times have changed since Hector was a pup, my boy. Why, thisis dreadful."

  "No, Mr. Daney. Merely unusual."

  "Well, Donald, I think your father will raise the ante considerably inorder to avoid that added disgrace and force you to listen to reason."

  "If he does, sir, please spare yourself the trouble of bearing hismessage. Neither Nan nor I is for sale, sir."

  "I told him you'd decline the bonds. However, Mr. Donald, there is noreason in life why you shouldn't get money from me whenever you wantit. Thanks to your father I'm worth more than a hundred thousandmyself, although you'd never guess it. Your credit is A-1 with me."

  "I shall be your debtor for life because of that speech, Mr. Daney.Any news from my mother and the girls?"

  "None."

  "Well, I'll stand by for results," Donald assured him gravely.

  "Do not expect any."

  "I don't."

  Mr. Daney fidgeted and finally said he guessed he'd better be trottingalong, and Donald and Nan, realizing it would be no kindness to him tobe polite and assure him there was no need of hurry, permitted him todepart forthwith.

  "I think, sweetheart," Donald announced with a pained little smile, ashe returned from seeing Mr. Daney to the front gate, "that it wouldn'tbe a half bad idea for you to sit in at that old piano and play andsing for me. I think I'd like something light and lilting. What's thatKipling thing that's been set to music?"

  So we went strolling, Down by the rolling, down by the rolling sea. You may keep your croak for other folk But you can't frighten me!

  He lighted a cigarette and stretched himself out on the old divan.She watched him blowing smoke rings at the ceiling--and there was nomusic in her soul.

  In the afternoon the McKaye limousine drew up at the front gate andNan's heart fluttered violently in contemplation of a visit from herhusband's mother and sisters. She need not have worried, however. Theinterior of the car was unoccupied save for Donald's clothing andpersonal effects which some thoughtful person at The Dreamerie hadsent down to him. He hazarded a guess that the cool and practicalElizabeth had realized his needs.