Money Magic: A Novel

by Hamlin Garland

  CHAPTER VI

  THE HANEY PALACE

  One day early in the following summer a tall, thin man, with onehelpless side, entered the big luminous hall of the Antlers Hotel at theSprings, upheld by a stalwart attendant, and accompanied by asweet-faced, calm-lipped young woman. This was Marshall Haney and hisyoung wife Bertha, down from the mountain for the first time since hisillness, and those who knew their story and recognized them, stood asidewith a thrill of pity for the man and a look of admiration for the girl,whose bravery and devotion had done so much to bring her husband back tolife and to a growing measure of his former strength.

  Marshall Haney was, indeed, but a poor hulk of his stalwart self. Onelung had been deeply torn, his left shoulder was almost wholly disabled,and he walked with a stoop and shuffle; but his physical weakening wasnot more marked than his mental mellowing. He was softened--"gentled,"as the horsemen say. His eyes were larger, and his face, once so sternand masterful, gave out an appealing expression by reason of the deephorizontal wrinkles which had developed in his brow. He had grown amustache, and this being gray gave him an older look--older and moremilitary. It was plain, also, that he leaned upon his keen-eyed,impassive little wife, who never for one moment lost her hold uponherself or her surroundings. Her flashing glances took note ofeverything about her, and her lips were close-set and firm.

  Williams, ugly and wordless as ever, followed them with a proud smiletill they entered the handsome suite of rooms which had been reservedfor them. "There's nothing too good for Marshall Haney and hisside-partner," he exulted to the bell-boy.

  Thereupon, Mart, with a look of reverence at his young bride, replied:"She's airned it--and more!"

  A sigh was in his voice and a singular appeal in his big eyes as he sankinto an easy-chair. "I believe I do feel better down here; my heartseems to work aisier. I'm going to get well now, darlin'."

  "Of course you are," she answered, in the tone of a daughter; thenadded, with a smile: "I like it here. Why not settle?"

  To her Colorado Springs was a dazzling social centre. The beauty of thehomes along its wide streets, the splendor of its private carriages,affected her almost as deeply as the magnitude and glory of Denveritself; but she was not of those who display their weaknesses anddiffidence. She ate her first dinner in the lofty Antlers dining-hallwith quiet dignity, and would not have been particularly noticed but forHaney, who was well-known to the waiters of the hotel. Her associationwith him had made her a marked figure in their mountain towns, and shewas accustomed to comment.

  She met the men who addressed her with entire fearlessness and candor(she was afraid only of women in good clothes), speaking with the easyslanginess of a herder, using naturally and unconsciously the mostpicturesque phrases of the West. Her speech was incisive andunhesitating, yet not swift. She never chattered, but "you bet" and "allright" were authorized English so far as she was concerned. "They sayyou can't beat this town anywhere for society, and I sure like the looksof what we've seen. Suppose we hang around this hotel for a while--nottoo long, for it's mighty expensive." Here she smiled--a quick, flashingsmile. "You see, I can't get used to spending money--I'm afraid all thetime I'll wake up. It's just like a dream I used to have of findingchink--I always came to before I had a chance to handle it and see if itwas real."

  Haney answered, indulgently: "'Tis all real, Bertie. I'll show you thatwhen I'm meself again."

  "Oh, I believe it--at least, part of the time," she retorted. "But I'llhave to flash a roll to do it--checks are no good. I could sign amillion checks and not have 'em seem like real money. I'm from Missouriwhen it comes to cash."

  Mrs. Gilman, who had always stood in bewilderment and wonder of herdaughter, was entirely subject now. She and Williams usually moved insilence, like adoring subjects in the presence of their sovereigns. Theyhad no doubts whatsoever concerning the power and primacy of gold; andas for Haney himself, his unquestioning confidence in his little wife'sjudgment had come to be like an article of religious faith.

  After breakfast on the second day of her stay Bertha ordered a carriage,and they drove about the town in the brilliant morning sunshine, lookingfor a place to build. She resembled a little home-seeking sparrow. Everycosey cottage was to her an almost irresistible allurement. "There's adandy place, Captain," she called several times. "Wouldn't you like ahouse like that?"

  He, with larger notions, shook his head each time. "Too small, Bertie.We've the right to a fine big place--like that, now." He nodded towardsa stately gray-stone mansion, with the sign "For Sale" planted on itslawn.

  She was aghast. "Gee! what would we do with a state-house like that?"

  "Live in it, sure."

  "It would need four chamber-maids and two hired men to take care of aplace like that. And think of the money it would spoil to stock it withfurniture!" Nevertheless, she gazed at it longingly. "I'd sure like thatbig garden and that porch. You could sit on that porch and see themountains, couldn't you? But my ears and whiskers, the expense ofkeeping it!"

  They passed on to other and less palatial possibilities, and returned tothe hotel undecided. The two women, bewildered and weary, diverged anddiscussed the matter of dress till the mid-day meal.

  "I like being rich," remarked the young wife, as they took their seatsin the lovely dining-room, and looked about at the tables so shining, sodainty. "It would be fun to run a house like this, don't you think?" Sheaddressed her mother.

  "Good gracious, no! Think of the bill for help and the worry of lookingafter all this silver! No, it's too splendid for us."

  Haney still retained enough of his ancient humor to smile at them. "I'drather see you manage that big stone house with the porch which I'mgoing to buy."

  "You don't mean it?" said Bertha, while Mrs. Gilman stared at him overher soup.

  He went on quietly. "Sure! Me mind's made up. You want the garden and Ilike the porch; so 'phone the agent after dinner, and we'll go up andsee to it this very afternoon."

  Bertha's bosom heaved with excitement, and her eyes expanded. "I'd likejust once to see the _inside_ of a house like that. It must be half asbig as this hotel--but to own it! You're crazy, Captain."

  The remote possibility of walking through that wonderful mansion tookaway the young wife's appetite, and she became silent and reflective inthe face of a delicious fried chicken. The magic of her husband's wealthbegan to make itself most potently felt.

  Haney insisted on smoking a cigar in the lobby. Bertha took her motheraway to talk over the tremendous decision which was about to be thrustupon them. "We want a house," said she, decisively, "but not a palacelike that. What would we do with it? It scares me up a tree to think ofit."

  "I guess he was only joking," Mrs. Gilman agreed.

  "I can see the porch would be fine for him," Bertha went on. "But,jiminy spelter, we'd all be lost in the place!"

  Haney called Williams to his side, and told him of the house. "It's abig place, but I want it. Go you and see the agent. My little girl needsa roof, and why not the best?"

  "Sure!" replied Williams, with conviction. "She's entitled to a castle.You round up the women, and I'll do the rest."

  The house proved to be even more splendid and spacious than its exteriorindicated, and Bertha walked its wide halls with breathless delight.After a hurried survey of the interior, they came out upon the broadveranda, and lingered long in awe and wonder of the outlook. To the westlay a glorious garden of fruits and flowers; a fountain was playing overthe rich green grass; high above the tops of the pear and peach trees(which made a little copse) rose the purple peaks of the Rampart range.

  "Oh, isn't it great!" exclaimed Bertha.

  Haney turned to the agent with a tense look on his pale face--a look ofexultant power.

  "Make out your papers," said he, quietly. "We take the place--as itstands."

  Bertha was overwhelmed by this flourish of the enchanter's wand--butonly for a moment. No sooner was the contract signed than she rousedherself as to a new business venture. "W
ell, now, the first thing isfurniture. Let's see! There is some carpets and curtains in the place,isn't there? And a steel range. It's up to me to rustle the balance ofthe outfit together right lively."

  And so she set to work quite as she would have done in outfitting a newhotel--so many beds, so many chairs in a room, so many dressers, andsoon had a long list made out and the order placed.

  She spent every available moment of her time for the next two daysgetting the kitchen and dining-room in running order, and when she hadtwo beds ready insisted on moving in. "We can kind o' camp out in theplace till we get stocked up. I'm crazy to be under our own roof."

  Haney, almost as eager as she, consented, and on the third day theydrove up to the door, dismissed their hired coachman, and stepped insidethe gate--master and mistress of an American chateau.

  Mart turned, and, with misty eyes and a voice choked with happiness,said: "Well, darlin', we have it now--the palace of the fairy stories."

  "It's great," she repeated, musingly; "but I can't make it seem like ahome--mebbe it'll change when I get it filled with furniture, but thegarden is sure all right."

  They took their first meal on the porch overlooking the mountains,listening to the breeze in the vines. It was heavenly sweet after thebarren squalor of their Cripple Creek home, and they did little but gazeand dream.

  "We need a team," Bertha said, at last.

  "Buy one," replied Haney.

  So Bertha bought a carriage and a fine black span. This expenditureinvolved a coachman, and to fill that position an old friend ofWilliams'--a talkative and officious old miner--was employed. She nextsecured a Chinese cook, the best to be had, and a girl to do thechamber-work. They were all busy as hornets, and Bertha lived in a glowof excitement every waking hour of the day--though she did not show it.

  Haney's check-book was quite as wonderful in its way as Aladdin's lamp,and little by little the women permitted themselves to draw upon itsmagic. The shining span of blacks, with flowing manes and champing bits,became a feature of the avenue as the women drove up and down on theirnever-ending quest for household luxuries--they had gone beyond merenecessities. Mart usually went with them, sitting in the carriage whilethey "visited" with the grocery clerks and furniture dealers. They werevery popular with these people, as was natural.

  "Little Mrs. Haney" became at once the subject of endlesscomment--mostly unfavorable; for Mart's saloon-made reputation waswell-known, and the current notion of a woman who would marry him wasnot high. She was reported, in the alien circles of the town, to be avulgar little chamber-maid who had taken a gambler for his money at atime when he was supposed to be on his death-bed, and her elevation tothe management of a palatial residence was pointed out as being"peculiarly Western-American."

  The men, however, were much more tolerant of judgment than their women.They had become more or less hardened to seeing crude miners luxuriatingin sudden, accidental wealth; therefore, they nodded good-humoredly atHaney and tipped their hats to his pretty wife with smiles. As bankers,tradesmen, and taxpayers generally they could not afford to neglect acitizen possessed of so much wealth and circumstance.

  Mrs. Gilman presented a letter of introduction to the nearest church ofher own persuasion, and went to service quite as unassumingly as inSibley, and was greeted by a few of the ladies there cordially andwithout hint of her son-in-law's connections. Two or three, includingthe pastor's wife, made special effort to cultivate her acquaintance bycalling immediately, but they were not of those who attracted Bertha;and though she showed them about the house and answered their questions,she did not promise to call. "We're too busy," she explained. "I haven'tgot more than half the rooms into shape, and, besides, we're to have mybrother's folks down from the Junction--we're on the hustle all daylong."

  This was true. She had been quite besieged by her former neighbors inSibley, who found it convenient to "put up with the Haneys" whilevisiting the town. They were, in fact, very curious to study her in hernew and splendid setting; and though some of them peeked and peered amidthe beds, and thumped the mattresses in vulgar curiosity, the younghousewife merely laughed. All her life had been spent among folk of thisdirectly inquisitive sort. She expected them to act as they did, and,being a hearty and generous soul, as well as a very democratic one, shesent them away happy.

  Indeed, she won praise from all who came to know her. But that smallpart of the Springs--alien and exclusive--which considered itself higherif not better than the rest of the Western world, looked askance at "thegambler's wife and her freak friends," and Mrs. Crego, who was inclinedto be very censorious, alluded to the Haneys as "beggars on horseback"as she met them on the boulevard.

  Of all this critical comment Bertha remained, happily, unconscious, andit is probable that she would soon have won her way to a decent circleof friends had not Charles Haney descended upon them like a plague. Marthad been receiving letters from this brother, but had said nothing toBertha of his demands. "Charles despised me when he met me in Denver,"he explained to Williams. "I was busted at the time, ye mind." Hewinked. "And now when he reads in the papers that Mart Haney is rich, hecomes down on me like a hawk on a June bug. 'Tis no matter. He maycome--I'll not cast him out. But he does not play with medouble-eagles--not he!"

  Charles Haney was not fitted to raise his brother's wife in the socialscale, for he belonged to that marked, insistent variety of actor to bedistinguished on trains and in the lobbies of hotels--a fat, sleek,loud-voiced comedian, who enacted scenes from his unwritten plays whileladling his soup, and who staggered and fell across chairs inillustration of highly emotional lines and, what was worse, he was ofthose who regard every unescorted woman as fair game. Bold of glance andbrassy of smile, he began to make eyes at his sister-in-law from theirfirst meeting.

  She amazed him. He had expected a woman of his own class--anadventuress, painted, designing; and to find this sweet littlegirl--"why, she's too good for Mart," he concluded, and shifted hishollow pretensions of sympathy from his brother to his sister-in-law.Before the first evening of his visit closed he sought opportunity totell her, in hypocritic sadness, that Mart was a doomed man, and thatshe would soon be free of him. Bertha was disturbed by his gaze andrepelled by his touch, but tried to like him on Mart's account. Hismouthing disgusted her, and the good-will with which Haney greeted hisbrother turned into bitterness as the boaster and low wit began todisplay himself.

  "We all grew up in the street or in the saloon," Haney sadly remarked,"and you finished your education in the variety theatre, I'm thinking."

  The actor took this as a joke, and with a grin retorted: "That's betterthan running a faro-layout."

  "I dunno; a good quiet game has its power to educate a man," replied thegambler.

  That night, as she was preparing the Captain for bed, he remarked, witha sigh: "Life is a quare game! I mind Charley well as a cute littleyellow-haired divil, always laughing, always in mischief, and me chasin'after him--a big slob of a boy. I used to carry him up an' down thetenement stairs. I learned him to skate--and now here he is drinkin'himself puffy, whilst I am an old broken-down hack at forty-five." Helooked up at her with a sheen of tears in his eyes. "Darlin', 'tis ashame to be leanin' on you."

  She put her arm around his big grizzled head and drew it to her.

  "You can lean hard, Mart. I'm standin' by."

  "No, I'll not lean too hard," he answered. "I don't want your fine,straight back to stoop. I make no demands. I'll not spoil your younglife. I'm not worth it. You're free to go when you can't stand me anylonger."

  "Now, now, no more of that!" she warned. "When I have cause to knock,you won't need no ear-trumpet. Put up your hoof." He obeyed, and,stooping swiftly, she began to unlace the shoe which he could no longerreach. Her manner was that of a daughter who tyrannizes over anindulgent father. Her admiration and gratitude, so boyish once, were nowreplaced by an affection in which the element of sex had small place,and his love for her sprang also from a source far removed from thefierce instinct which firs
t led him to seek her subduing.