Burning Daylight

by Jack London

  CHAPTER XXII

  Daylight awoke with the familiar parched mouth and lips and throat,took a long drink of water from the pitcher beside his bed, andgathered up the train of thought where he had left it the night before.He reviewed the easement of the financial strain. Things were mendingat last. While the going was still rough, the greatest dangers werealready past. As he had told Hegan, a tight rein and careful playingwere all that was needed now. Flurries and dangers were bound to come,but not so grave as the ones they had already weathered. He had beenhit hard, but he was coming through without broken bones, which wasmore than Simon Dolliver and many another could say. And not one ofhis business friends had been ruined. He had compelled them to stay inline to save himself, and they had been saved as well.

  His mind moved on to the incident at the corner of the bar of theParthenon, when the young athlete had turned his hand down. He was nolonger stunned by the event, but he was shocked and grieved, as only astrong man can be, at this passing of his strength. And the issue wastoo clear for him to dodge, even with himself. He knew why his handhad gone down. Not because he was an old man. He was just in thefirst flush of his prime, and, by rights, it was the hand of thehammer-thrower which should have gone down. Daylight knew that he hadtaken liberties with himself. He had always looked upon this strengthof his as permanent, and here, for years, it had been steadily oozingfrom him. As he had diagnosed it, he had come in from under the starsto roost in the coops of cities. He had almost forgotten how to walk.He had lifted up his feet and been ridden around in automobiles, cabsand carriages, and electric cars. He had not exercised, and he haddry-rotted his muscles with alcohol.

  And was it worth it? What did all his money mean after all? Dede wasright. It could buy him no more than one bed at a time, and at thesame time it made him the abjectest of slaves. It tied him fast. Hewas tied by it right now. Even if he so desired, he could not lie abedthis very day. His money called him. The office whistle would soonblow, and he must answer it. The early sunshine was streaming throughhis window--a fine day for a ride in the hills on Bob, with Dede besidehim on her Mab. Yet all his millions could not buy him this one day.One of those flurries might come along, and he had to be on the spot tomeet it. Thirty millions! And they were powerless to persuade Dede toride on Mab--Mab, whom he had bought, and who was unused and growingfat on pasture. What were thirty millions when they could not buy aman a ride with the girl he loved? Thirty millions!--that made himcome here and go there, that rode upon him like so many millstones,that destroyed him while they grew, that put their foot down andprevented him from winning this girl who worked for ninety dollars amonth.

  Which was better? he asked himself. All this was Dede's own thought.It was what she had meant when she prayed he would go broke. He heldup his offending right arm. It wasn't the same old arm. Of course shecould not love that arm and that body as she had loved the strong,clean arm and body of years before. He didn't like that arm and bodyhimself. A young whippersnapper had been able to take liberties withit. It had gone back on him. He sat up suddenly. No, by God, he hadgone back on it! He had gone back on himself. He had gone back onDede. She was right, a thousand times right, and she had sense enoughto know it, sense enough to refuse to marry a money slave with awhiskey-rotted carcass.

  He got out of bed and looked at himself in the long mirror on thewardrobe door. He wasn't pretty. The old-time lean cheeks were gone.These were heavy, seeming to hang down by their own weight. He lookedfor the lines of cruelty Dede had spoken of, and he found them, and hefound the harshness in the eyes as well, the eyes that were muddy nowafter all the cocktails of the night before, and of the months andyears before. He looked at the clearly defined pouches that showedunder his eyes, and they've shocked him. He rolled up the sleeve ofhis pajamas. No wonder the hammer-thrower had put his hand down.Those weren't muscles. A rising tide of fat had submerged them. Hestripped off the pajama coat. Again he was shocked, this time but thebulk of his body. It wasn't pretty. The lean stomach had become apaunch. The ridged muscles of chest and shoulders and abdomen hadbroken down into rolls of flesh.

  He sat down on the bed, and through his mind drifted pictures of hisyouthful excellence, of the hardships he had endured over other men, ofthe Indians and dogs he had run off their legs in the heart-breakingdays and nights on the Alaskan trail, of the feats of strength that hadmade him king over a husky race of frontiersmen.

  And this was age. Then there drifted across the field of vision of hismind's eye the old man he had encountered at Glen Ellen, corning up thehillside through the fires of sunset, white-headed and white-bearded,eighty-four, in his hand the pail of foaming milk and in his face allthe warm glow and content of the passing summer day. That had beenage. "Yes siree, eighty-four, and spryer than most," he could hear theold man say. "And I ain't loafed none. I walked across the Plains withan ox-team and fit Injuns in '51, and I was a family man then withseven youngsters."

  Next he remembered the old woman of the chaparral, pressing grapes inher mountain clearing; and Ferguson, the little man who had scuttledinto the road like a rabbit, the one-time managing editor of a greatnewspaper, who was content to live in the chaparral along with hisspring of mountain water and his hand-reared and manicured fruit trees.Ferguson had solved a problem. A weakling and an alcoholic, he had runaway from the doctors and the chicken-coop of a city, and soaked uphealth like a thirsty sponge. Well, Daylight pondered, if a sick manwhom the doctors had given up could develop into a healthy farmlaborer, what couldn't a merely stout man like himself do under similarcircumstances? He caught a vision of his body with all its youthfulexcellence returned, and thought of Dede, and sat down suddenly on thebed, startled by the greatness of the idea that had come to him.

  He did not sit long. His mind, working in its customary way, like asteel trap, canvassed the idea in all its bearings. It was big--biggerthan anything he had faced before. And he faced it squarely, picked itup in his two hands and turned it over and around and looked at it.The simplicity of it delighted him. He chuckled over it, reached hisdecision, and began to dress. Midway in the dressing he stopped inorder to use the telephone.

  Dede was the first he called up.

  "Don't come to the office this morning," he said. "I'm coming out tosee you for a moment." He called up others. He ordered his motor-car.To Jones he gave instructions for the forwarding of Bob and Wolf toGlen Ellen. Hegan he surprised by asking him to look up the deed ofthe Glen Ellen ranch and make out a new one in Dede Mason's name."Who?" Hegan demanded. "Dede Mason," Daylight replied imperturbablythe 'phone must be indistinct this morning. "D-e-d-e M-a-s o-n. Gotit?"

  Half an hour later he was flying out to Berkeley. And for the firsttime the big red car halted directly before the house. Dede offered toreceive him in the parlor, but he shook his head and nodded toward herrooms.

  "In there," he said. "No other place would suit."

  As the door closed, his arms went out and around her. Then he stoodwith his hands on her shoulders and looking down into her face.

  "Dede, if I tell you, flat and straight, that I'm going up to live onthat ranch at Glen Ellen, that I ain't taking a cent with me, that I'mgoing to scratch for every bite I eat, and that I ain't going to playary a card at the business game again, will you come along with me?"

  She gave a glad little cry, and he nestled her in closely. But thenext moment she had thrust herself out from him to the old position atarm's length.

  "I--I don't understand," she said breathlessly.

  "And you ain't answered my proposition, though I guess no answer isnecessary. We're just going to get married right away and start. I'vesent Bob and Wolf along already. When will you be ready?"

  Dede could not forbear to smile. "My, what a hurricane of a man it is.I'm quite blown away. And you haven't explained a word to me."

  Daylight smiled responsively.

  "Look here, Dede, this is what card-sharps call a show-down.
No morephilandering and frills and long-distance sparring between you and me.We're just going to talk straight out in meeting--the truth, the wholetruth, and nothing but the truth. Now you answer some questions forme, and then I'll answer yours."

  He paused. "Well, I've got only one question after all: Do you love meenough to marry me?"

  "But--" she began.

  "No buts," he broke in sharply. "This is a show-down. When I saymarry, I mean what I told you at first, that we'd go up and live on theranch. Do you love me enough for that?"

  She looked at him for a moment, then her lids dropped, and all of herseemed to advertise consent.

  "Come on, then, let's start." The muscles of his legs tensedinvoluntarily as if he were about to lead her to the door. "My auto'swaiting outside. There's nothing to delay excepting getting on yourhat."

  He bent over her. "I reckon it's allowable," he said, as he kissed her.

  It was a long embrace, and she was the first to speak.

  "You haven't answered my questions. How is this possible? How can youleave your business? Has anything happened?"

  "No, nothing's happened yet, but it's going to, blame quick. I've takenyour preaching to heart, and I've come to the penitent form. You aremy Lord God, and I'm sure going to serve you. The rest can go tothunder. You were sure right. I've been the slave to my money, andsince I can't serve two masters I'm letting the money slide. I'dsooner have you than all the money in the world, that's all." Again heheld her closely in his arms. "And I've sure got you, Dede. I've suregot you.

  "And I want to tell you a few more. I've taken my last drink. You'remarrying a whiskey-soak, but your husband won't be that. He's going togrow into another man so quick you won't know him. A couple of monthsfrom now, up there in Glen Ellen, you'll wake up some morning and findyou've got a perfect stranger in the house with you, and you'll have toget introduced to him all over again. You'll say, 'I'm Mrs. Harnish,who are you?' And I'll say, 'I'm Elam Harnish's younger brother. I'vejust arrived from Alaska to attend the funeral.' 'What funeral?' you'llsay. And I'll say, 'Why, the funeral of that good-for-nothing,gambling, whiskey-drinking Burning Daylight--the man that died of fattydegeneration of the heart from sitting in night and day at the businessgame 'Yes ma'am,' I'll say, 'he's sure a gone 'coon, but I've come totake his place and make you happy. And now, ma'am, if you'll allow me,I'll just meander down to the pasture and milk the cow while you'regetting breakfast.'"

  Again he caught her hand and made as if to start with her for the door.When she resisted, he bent and kissed her again and again.

  "I'm sure hungry for you, little woman," he murmured "You make thirtymillions look like thirty cents."

  "Do sit down and be sensible," she urged, her cheeks flushed, thegolden light in her eyes burning more golden than he had ever seen itbefore.

  But Daylight was bent on having his way, and when he sat down it waswith her beside him and his arm around her.

  "'Yes, ma'am,' I'll say, 'Burning Daylight was a pretty good cuss, butit's better that he's gone. He quit rolling up in his rabbit-skins andsleeping in the snow, and went to living in a chicken-coop. He liftedup his legs and quit walking and working, and took to existing onMartini cocktails and Scotch whiskey. He thought he loved you, ma'am,and he did his best, but he loved his cocktails more, and he loved hismoney more, and himself more, and 'most everything else more than hedid you.' And then I'll say, 'Ma'am, you just run your eyes over me andsee how different I am. I ain't got a cocktail thirst, and all themoney I got is a dollar and forty cents and I've got to buy a new ax,the last one being plumb wore out, and I can love you just about eleventimes as much as your first husband did. You see, ma'am, he went allto fat. And there ain't ary ounce of fat on me.' And I'll roll up mysleeve and show you, and say, 'Mrs. Harnish, after having experiencewith being married to that old fat money-bags, do you-all mind marryinga slim young fellow like me?' And you'll just wipe a tear away for poorold Daylight, and kind of lean toward me with a willing expression inyour eye, and then I'll blush maybe some, being a young fellow, and putmy arm around you, like that, and then--why, then I'll up and marry mybrother's widow, and go out and do the chores while she's cooking abite to eat."

  "But you haven't answered my questions," she reproached him, as sheemerged, rosy and radiant, from the embrace that had accompanied theculmination of his narrative.

  "Now just what do you want to know?" he asked.

  "I want to know how all this is possible? How you are able to leaveyour business at a time like this? What you meant by saying thatsomething was going to happen quickly? I--" She hesitated and blushed."I answered your question, you know."

  "Let's go and get married," he urged, all the whimsicality of hisutterance duplicated in his eyes. "You know I've got to make way forthat husky young brother of mine, and I ain't got long to live." Shemade an impatient moue, and he continued seriously.

  "You see, it's like this, Dede. I've been working like forty horsesever since this blamed panic set in, and all the time some of thoseideas you'd given me were getting ready to sprout. Well, they sproutedthis morning, that's all. I started to get up, expecting to go to theoffice as usual. But I didn't go to the office. All that sproutingtook place there and then. The sun was shining in the window, and Iknew it was a fine day in the hills. And I knew I wanted to ride inthe hills with you just about thirty million times more than I wantedto go to the office. And I knew all the time it was impossible. Andwhy? Because of the office. The office wouldn't let me. All my moneyreared right up on its hind legs and got in the way and wouldn't letme. It's a way that blamed money has of getting in the way. You knowthat yourself.

  "And then I made up my mind that I was to the dividing of the ways.One way led to the office. The other way led to Berkeley. And I tookthe Berkeley road. I'm never going to set foot in the office again.That's all gone, finished, over and done with, and I'm letting it slideclean to smash and then some. My mind's set on this. You see, I'vegot religion, and it's sure the old-time religion; it's love and you,and it's older than the oldest religion in the world. It's IT, that'swhat it is--IT, with a capital I-T."

  She looked at him with a sudden, startled expression.

  "You mean--?" she began.

  "I mean just that. I'm wiping the slate clean. I'm letting it all goto smash. When them thirty million dollars stood up to my face andsaid I couldn't go out with you in the hills to-day, I knew the timehad come for me to put my foot down. And I'm putting it down. I'vegot you, and my strength to work for you, and that little ranch inSonoma. That's all I want, and that's all I'm going to save out, alongwith Bob and Wolf, a suit case and a hundred and forty hair bridles.All the rest goes, and good riddance. It's that much junk."

  But Dede was insistent.

  "Then this--this tremendous loss is all unnecessary?" she asked.

  "Just what I haven't been telling you. It IS necessary. If that moneythinks it can stand up right to my face and say I can't go riding withyou--"

  "No, no; be serious," Dede broke in. "I don't mean that, and you knowit. What I want to know is, from a standpoint of business, is thisfailure necessary?"

  He shook his head.

  "You bet it isn't necessary. That's the point of it. I'm not lettinggo of it because I'm licked to a standstill by the panic and have gotto let go. I'm firing it out when I've licked the panic and amwinning, hands down. That just shows how little I think of it. It'syou that counts, little woman, and I make my play accordingly."

  But she drew away from his sheltering arms.

  "You are mad, Elam."

  "Call me that again," he murmured ecstatically. "It's sure sweeterthan the chink of millions."

  All this she ignored.

  "It's madness. You don't know what you are doing--"

  "Oh, yes, I do," he assured her. "I'm winning the dearest wish of myheart. Why, your little finger is worth more--"

  "Do be sensible for a moment."

  "I was
never more sensible in my life. I know what I want, and I'mgoing to get it. I want you and the open air. I want to get my footoff the paving-stones and my ear away from the telephone. I want alittle ranch-house in one of the prettiest bits of country God evermade, and I want to do the chores around that ranch-house--milk cows,and chop wood, and curry horses, and plough the ground, and all therest of it; and I want you there in the ranch-house with me. I'm plumbtired of everything else, and clean wore out. And I'm sure theluckiest man alive, for I've got what money can't buy. I've got you,and thirty millions couldn't buy you, nor three thousand millions, northirty cents--"

  A knock at the door interrupted him, and he was left to staredelightedly at the Crouched Venus and on around the room at Dede'sdainty possessions, while she answered the telephone.

  "It is Mr. Hegan," she said, on returning. "He is holding the line.He says it is important."

  Daylight shook his head and smiled.

  "Please tell Mr. Hegan to hang up. I'm done with the office and Idon't want to hear anything about anything."

  A minute later she was back again.

  "He refuses to hang up. He told me to tell you that Unwin is in theoffice now, waiting to see you, and Harrison, too. Mr. Hegan said thatGrimshaw and Hodgkins are in trouble. That it looks as if they aregoing to break. And he said something about protection."

  It was startling information. Both Unwin and Harrison represented bigbanking corporations, and Daylight knew that if the house of Grimshawand Hodgkins went it would precipitate a number of failures and start aflurry of serious dimensions. But Daylight smiled, and shook his head,and mimicked the stereotyped office tone of voice as he said:--

  "Miss Mason, you will kindly tell Mr. Hegan that there is nothing doingand to hang up."

  "But you can't do this," she pleaded.

  "Watch me," he grimly answered.

  "Elam!"

  "Say it again," he cried. "Say it again, and a dozen Grimshaws andHodgkins can smash!"

  He caught her by the hand and drew her to him.

  "You let Hegan hang on to that line till he's tired. We can't bewasting a second on him on a day like this. He's only in love withbooks and things, but I've got a real live woman in my arms that'sloving me all the time she's kicking over the traces."