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Virginia "cautiously pushed aside the portiere, thenentered the room."]
An Oregon Girl
Alfred Ernest Rice
1914
SCENES: Portland, Oregon, and environs.
TIME: Within the last fifteen years.
PERSONAE:
John Thorpe: Director, Investment Co. Constance: His wife Virginia: His sister, An Oregon Girl Dorothy: His five-year-old daughter Hazel Brooke: His niece Smith: His Irish coachman Philip Rutley: Ex-president, Investment Co. Jack Shore: Ex-secretary Investment Co. James Harris: Retired merchant Mrs. Harris: His wife Sam Harris: His nephew, and hero Joe Corway: Secretly engaged to Virginia, but forsakes her for Hazel Mr. Williams: Attorney at Law Dr. Mackay: The Harris family physician Simms: A detective Wells: Harris' coachman Gene, Spike: Boys Ship's officers, and others
INTRODUCTORY
In the year 19-- a legend adorned with gold and bearing the significantwords, "The Securities Investment Association, Mr. Philip Rutley,President, Mr. Jack Shore, Secretary-Treasurer," appeared on the glasspanel of a certain office door on Third street, in the city ofPortland, Oregon.
These two men were middle-aged bachelors, and moved in select society.Through their social standing they had persuaded two wealthy men ofthe city to lend their names as stockholders and directors in thecompany; but the Investment Company's business failed to meet theexpenses which the social living of the two promoters felt weredemanded of them, and the inevitable happened, viz., a resort todishonest manipulations of sundry bond transactions by which the twowealthy directors had to "make good."
It resulted, on discovery, in the immediate closing of the office andprosecution of the offenders was ordered; but because of their socialstanding and promise to leave the city at once, criminal proceedingswere suspended.
Three years elapsed. In the medium-sized room of a plainly furnishedflat, in a genteel suburb of the "Bay City," a man sat brooding overthe ill luck which had pursued him for the past few years. This man,as he sat with elbows on his knees and chin resting on his hands, waslooking through the open window and out over the bay, out over thatfar off rugged ridge of purple and gray and white that projected up inthe clear ethereal blue, northward, gazing with eyes fixed intonothingness, for he was deeply absorbed in a review of his past careerand of the sunny time he had enjoyed while living in Portland.
His straw colored hair, verging to a sandy hue, framed a smooth shavenface of marked strength and intelligence. His eyes of a bluish gray,were bright when shielded by spectacles, worn more from fashion thannecessity, glittered with keenness and energy.
Jack Shore rarely allowed his naturally aggressive and buoyant spiritsto remain for long depressed by a gloomy retrospect; but the purposeof his prolonged stare at vacancy on this occasion was attributable tothe necessity of another visit to Mr. Loan-on-personal-property.
His reverie was ended by the abrupt entry of his companion, PhilipRutley, who drawled out in quiet tones: "Jack--Aw--I beg pardon. I seeyou are engaged."
Jack looked at his visitor, noted his dignified bearing and unwontedcoolness as he removed his gloves; noted the smile of cunning pleasurethat played about his mouth and, from experience, concluded that somedeep scheme had been thought out and a line of action forming.
"Well, Phil," he replied, "what game is on now?"
"A well dressed lady and gentleman, strangers," began Phil, "halted meon Market Street and addressed me as 'My Lord Beauchamp.' They warmlyshook my hand and gushingly insisted that I promise them the pleasureof presenting our very dear friends,--Mr. and Mrs. Orthodox--to LordBeauchamp at the Palace tonight."
"Of course, you consented!" quietly laughed Jack.
"Ahem! Unfortunately I had instructed my secretary to 'clear' theyacht for the north this evening, and as all arrangements werecomplete, must beg, with profound regrets" (and he bent low withcourtly grace) "to decline the pleasure. Should you be visitingEngland next summer, my cordial invitation to rest a month or soat--a--Beauchamp, Isle of Wight."
"And you--"
"Beckoned a passing cab; bade them 'adieu' and drove on a few blocks."
"I congratulate you on your iron-clad nerve," laughingly remarkedJack. "And you withdrew with your new title,--a--me Lord Beauchamp,sitting jauntily, like a chip on your shoulder,--undisturbed."
"How could I do otherwise? You know I am opposed to shocks, butseriously, Jack, the incident has suggested a way out of ourembarrassment."
"How?"
"By carrying the thing on and be a lord in fact, with you as mysecretary."
Jack laughed, low and yet with a heartiness that was rollicking in itsabandon, and then added by way of parenthesis:
"I shall announce 'Your Grace's' intention to visit Portland."
"Precisely! You are well aware of the great esteem in which Me LordBeauchamp is likely to be held there, particularly by our friends, TheThorpes, Harrises, et al."
"A proper entry will create quite a stir among the fashionable set,"remarked Jack reflectively.
"And give us opportunities to 'work' them some."
"Are you agreed?"
"Yes," responded Jack. "It will be a damn good joke, anyway," andagain he laughed, for as the horn of plenty flitted before his visionhis spirits soared once more, above the measly depths of want andanxiety. "As an American," he continued, "you have as much right toplay the role of Lord, General or Judge as any other name by whichyour friends may be pleased to 'dub' you."
An Oregon Girl: A Tale of American Life in the New West Page 1
