King Spruce, A Novel

by Holman Day

  CHAPTER XXIX

  THE PARADE PAST RODBURD IDE'S PLATFORM

  "'Twas a hundred wet miles to the handiest rail, And his home it was fifty more; And behind on our bateau's bubblin' trail Raced Death with his muffled oar."

  --Ballad of the Drive.

  Two days later the "It-'ll-git-ye's," as sombre prophets, weredistinctly cheered by the sight of Boss Colin MacLeod borne past RodburdIde's store on a litter. They were hurrying him to the hospitaldown-river, and he had his teeth set into his lip to keep back thegroans.

  "No, sir! No fifty more miles of that for you, my boy," declared Ide,when he was told that MacLeod's arm and leg were broken. "Into my houseyou go, and the doctor comes here." And MacLeod was put to bed in thespare room, weeping quietly.

  "It was the head-works warp done it, Mr. Wade," he moaned, turninghollow eyes upon his sympathizer. "Broke and snapped back. I told himman's strength couldn't warp them logs across against that wind, but hewas bound to make us do it. He said I was a coward, Mr. Wade. But I tookthe place at the guide-block to show I wasn't. And then he cursed me forgettin' hurt!"

  When Wade left the room he found Kate Arden waiting outside. During thedays he had been at Castonia the girl had appeared to avoid him. She hadpaled when he spoke to her, replied curtly, and hurried away as thoughshe feared he was about to broach some topic that would distress her.Yet it was not towards him merely that she had displayed thatapprehensive reserve. Not even to Nina Ide did she open her heart, andNina told Wade of this with wonderment and grief. She had been docile,even to the subterfuge of sitting silent by John Barrett's bedside whenElva Barrett had resigned her trust to seek Dwight Wade in thewilderness. She had made no comment, asked no questions. She had showeddumb gratitude, and eagerly sought such household tasks as could beintrusted to her untrained hands. But wistful shrinking, the air of awild thing confined but not tamed, was with her ever.

  Now, when she faced Wade outside the door, her eyes shone like stars,her cheeks flamed, and the old fearlessness and determination were inher features.

  "I shall take care of him," she said. "I shall nurse him, and no one butme! I shall know how, Mr. Wade. He'll need me now. You go and tell themall that I shall nurse him. No one else shall do it."

  It was the woods mate claiming her own. It was more than love asconvention has classed it. It was the fire, lighted by the primordialtorch of passion, which burns and does not reason, not to be smotheredby rebuff or abuse; its pride not the calculating pride of a resentmentthat can divorce it from its object, but the pride of blind, utterloyalty through all.

  Dwight Wade had gone near enough to the heart of things to understandthis love.

  He looked at her a little while, sympathy lighting his eyes andvibrating in his voice as he answered her:

  "You shall have him, poor little girl, because he needs you."

  He opened the door for her, closed it behind her, and left them alonetogether.

  Two days later the "It-'ll-git-ye Club" realized the full climax ofominous prophecy and was correspondingly content. The Honorable PulaskiD. Britt was brought out from Jerusalem dead-water and taken down-river,a helpless hulk of a man grunting stertorous breaths, the right hand,which had waved command all those years along Umcolcus, now hanginghelpless at his side, his right leg dangling uselessly as they liftedhim along to a wagon.

  It was the fate that the choleric tyrant had invited. That last andmightiest rage of his life, when with swollen veins and purple face hehad stamped about the head-works platform, had done for Pulaski Brittand his weakened blood-vessels what those who knew him well hadpredicted. Wade was not surprised, for the suppression of Britt by thismeans and at this frantic climax in Britt's affairs was too entirelylogical. It came to him suddenly that he felt a sense of relief, andthen he wondered with shame whether he had hoped for it. Then hedismissed the speculation as unprofitable and not agreeable. The tyrantwas in chains of his own forging. His logs came limping along inscattered squads, and were sent through the sorting-gap and down-river.

  The new master of the corporation drive was not cordial when heappeared, hurrying towards headwaters. But he was not hostile, either.He surlily demanded expedition at the Castonia sorting-gap, and went onup-river.

  There are some combatants who, seeing a crisis approaching, feel that itis their best policy to sit down and wait until the crisis comes tothem. This implies the calculation that perhaps the crisis may go aroundthe other way, but it is not the policy for the intrepid. In his presentmood Dwight Wade decided to go to meet the crisis, with head erect andshoulders back.

  He addressed the president of the Umcolcus Lumbering and Log-drivingAssociation, requesting a conference with him and the directors of thebody. If the letter thinly screened a demand for that conference it wasthe fault of Dwight Wade's resolute determination to face the issue.

  The letter remained long unanswered. Its receipt was not evenacknowledged. The delay seemed to be contemptuous slighting of apossible overture of amicable settlement. Rodburd Ide sadly reasoned tothis conviction, and daily gazed towards the south in search of thesheriff bringing writs of attachment with as much trepidation as he hadgazed north in the black days when he expected Pulaski Britt.

  Dwight Wade was hardly more sanguine. And yet he was heartened byletters from his lawyer, who was up and at the foe once more. The lawyerintimated that an earnest conference was going on among the big fellowsof the timber interests. In the past, prior to sittings of thelegislature, they had heard the ominous stampings of the farmer'scowhide boots and the mutterings about unrighteous privileges, filchedState timber lands, and unequal taxation. In the secret sessions ofthose directors the stand-pat roarings of their woods executive haddrowned all pacific suggestions of compromise. But now the HonorablePulaski D. Britt lay at home, unable to lift the ponderous hand whichhad pounded emphasis.

  In the end Wade decided that the big fellows were waiting to settle whatthey were to say before they summoned him to conference. That he wascorrect was proven by the letter that came at last. It was a courteousletter; it appointed a time of meeting, and named as the place JohnBarrett's office in "Castle Cut 'Em."

  On the evening before Wade left Castonia, Colin MacLeod summoned him, acheerful convalescent who looked out daily into the new flush of June,and restlessly moved his stiffened limbs in his chair, and counted thedays between himself and the free life out-of-doors.

  "Mr. Ide was tellin' me why you are goin' and where you are goin'," saidMacLeod, with simple earnestness. Kate Arden was sitting with her headon his knee, and he was smoothing her hair gently. "I wanted the littlegirl to stay here while I talked this to you. I told you about my dreamonce, man-fashion. I've told her about it. I ain't excusin' or screenin'myself. I didn't know, that's all. I never tried to fool this littlegirl, Mr. Wade. They lied who said I did. I pitied her, Mr. Wade. Butit's a hard place to start in lovin' a girl where I saw her first--andI'd seen some one else before I saw her. But I know now, sir. I've toldher so all these days that she's been with me, so true and tender. Ireckon I never was in love before. I wouldn't have acted that way withyou, sir, if I really was in love and trusted. But there ain't nomistake this time, Mr. Wade!" He gulped, a sob in his throat and a smilein his eyes. "I'm her man for ever and ever. She knows it and she'sglad. And I know she's all mine, and I'm the happiest man in the wholenorth country."

  He broke in upon Wade's eager burst of congratulation.

  "There's just one more word I wanted to say--sort of in the way ofbusiness, Mr. Wade." There was a peculiar expression upon his face."Maybe when you're outside some one--_some one_ may drop a word orinquire about her business--you know--something about her." His look ofstrange significance became deeper, and Wade understood. "All is, youmight say that she and Colin MacLeod are goin' to get married, and ColinMacLeod ain't askin' anybody for her--only herself and God. God ain'tdenyin' His Fathership to a girl as good as she is. Colin MacLeod ain'taskin' anything else--ain't allowin' anythi
ng else. Say that to 'em.He's got his own two hands and eleven hundred dollars saved, and the bigwoods for her and for him. She and I wouldn't be happy outside the bigwoods, Mr. Wade. Say it all to 'em, sir, if any one drops a word toyou--and they probably will, because you've had words with them. You'llknow how to say it. But make it plain that it will be dangerous businessfor any man to reach out his hand to her or to me with anything init--and tell 'em it's Colin MacLeod says that," he added, bitterly.

  "The only things you need, Colin," cried Wade, advancing towards him,"are good-will and friendship, and both are in the hand I give you."

  At the door he turned.

  "Will you wait until I come back, Colin?" he asked. "I would like tostand up with you when you are married--Nina Ide and I."

  "I'll wait, Mr. Wade," returned the other, tears of gratitude springingto his eyes. "And may luck go with you in this business."

  That fervent wish, put again into words, followed him next morning whenhe departed from Castonia. This time it was Tommy Eye who said it--TommyEye, fresh down with the rear of the drive, and a very timorous andapprehensive figure of an outlaw. But he seemed to be a littledisappointed after Wade had assured him that the matter of Blunder Lakedam would be assumed by the Enchanted Company, and that Tommy himselfhad nothing to fear.

  "I reckon you can do it, Mr. Wade. You can do most anything you set outto," sighed Tommy. "Howsomever, I kind of figgered on that outlawbusiness to keep me away from down-river. The city ain't good for thelikes of me. They begin to rattle the keys of the calaboose the minute Iget off'n the train."

  "Tommy," commanded Wade, severely, "don't you go down-river this season.You stay here and attend to the work we've got marked out for you."

  "That's just as good a wheel-trig as the outlaw proposition would be,"declared Tommy, his face clearing. "Orders from you settles things, Mr.Wade. Here I stay."

  On the morning of his departure Rodburd Ide's daughter walked with Wadeto the store, where the stage started. In the days of their lateintimacy the girl had grown into his heart. The sincerity of a sister,self-reliance and womanly sympathy had characterized her attitudetowards him from the first; and she had welcomed a friendship whichlifted her to a comrade's level. She was as yet an altruist in mattersof the heart; she frankly and openly interested herself only in theloves of others.

  Wade knew all the unspoken words that her sympathy dictated when,standing out before them all, she clasped his hand before he clamberedover the wheel of the old stage.

  He saw no very clear horizon for his own love, but his comrade's smileheartened him, and the flutter of her handkerchief carried its messageof good courage when the stage pitched down the slope that hid Castoniasettlement.

  The road to "Castle Cut 'Em" lay before him. At that moment theHonorable John Barrett loomed so largely as a foe that Dwight Wade'sthoughts were of his fight. Of his love he hardly dared to think at all.

  The "It-'ll-git-ye Club" watched the departure of the stage that daywith more than usual interest, also with somewhat deeper gloom.

  The knowledge that Dwight Wade and his partner had assumed all blamefor the destruction of Blunder Lake dam was current in all the northcountry.

  King Spruce's delay in visiting punishment only made the situationgraver in the estimation of the prophets of evil. King Spruce had manyweapons, and in the past had promptly seized the one nearest at hand anddealt a crushing blow when provocation was given. The fact that the newdrive-master had passed on without even as much as a threat ofretribution was taken as an ominous presage. It was agreed that whenKing Spruce remained grimly silent so long, in order to revolve aproject of retaliation, he must be whittling an especially mightybludgeon.

  The members of the "It-'ll-git-ye Club" very frankly expressed thoughtsof this tenor to the half-dozen men who arrived at Castonia in the earlymorning to take the stage down-river with Wade. The men gloomily agreed.Two of them showed signs of funk at the last moment, and had to becoaxed on board the stage by the young man.

  These were the sort of men that Wade had seen a year before in thegeneral rooms of "Castle Cut 'Em." They were independent operators andstumpage-buyers, who had responded to the messengers and letters thatWade had been sending out.

  There were more of them who joined the party at the railroad; otherscame into the train as it stopped here and there on the way to thejunction. All of them seemed impressed by that sense of gloom andapprehension; there was not a sanguine face.

  But in their unanimity of dolorousness they displayed a furtherinteresting characteristic. They seemed entirely ready to accept thisyoung man as their leader and their champion; in fact, as he went amongthem, they confessed that they had come along only because he hadassured them that he would bear the brunt of the approaching conflict.The experience of years had shown them that they had no one man orcombination of men among themselves who could go up against King Spruce.They even distrusted each other's honesty, for every man realized allthe iniquity of the game of graft and grab that had characterized theirdealings with each other and with the main power in the past.

  That they should let this new-comer lead them was because he had alreadyproved his mettle and his fearlessness, and the whole north country knewit. He had beaten Pulaski Britt at his own game, he had defied KingSpruce, and now he was willing to beard the tyrant in his own castle,and only asked their presence at his back in order that the sight ofthem might prove his assertions and aid to win some grace for all ofthem.

  Therefore, they had answered his appeal and had gone with him. But theywent without alacrity, and were encouraged only by the despondent beliefthat at least matters could not be made any worse.

  CHAPTER XXX

  THE PACT WITH KING SPRUCE

  "We 'lowed he was caught, and we never thought we'd see Mike any more; But he took and he kicked a bubble up, and he rode all safe to shore."

  --The "Best White-water Man."

  So it came about that once more, after a year had passed, Dwight Wadewalked up the hill towards "Castle Cut 'Em," where the sunlightshimmered upon grim walls. The mills along the canal screamed at him ashe passed. His fancy detected derision in the squall of the saws.

  A score of men plodded along with him--broad-backed, silent men who, nowthat they were under the frown of King Spruce's citadel, muttered theirforebodings to one another. Resentment and desperation had left theirhearts open to the young man's appeal when he urged a union against thetyrant. But now their reluctance hinted that their determination wasbuilt on some very shifty sands. He remembered the man who had declaimeda year before so stoutly, and had been turned aside from his purpose bya few words whispered in a corner.

  And so it was without high hopes that Wade led the way into the broadstairway to the castle. He wished that the men would pound down theirfeet on those stairs so that King Spruce would know that they werecoming as bold and honest men should come. But his little army tiptoedup, their heavy boots creaking as do the boots of decorous mourners at afuneral.

  When he opened the door of the big general room his face did not showthat he was disheartened. He had determined not to come to John Barrettas a mere petitioner. He was no longer allowing hope to soften thebitter business of demanding.

  He saw the situation more plainly now than he saw it when he had biddenfarewell to Elva Barrett in Pogey Notch. There could be no hope of trucebetween himself and John Barrett. By winning the love of John Barrett'sdaughter, by possessing himself of the secret of John Barrett's shame,he realized that he had committed offences that the pride of Barrettcould not pardon. He had followed this by striking the first blowagainst the autocracy of King Spruce in the north country, and he wasnow appearing before King Spruce's high chamberlain as the leader of therebels whom his deed had spurred to rebellion.

  In spite of his great love for Elva Barrett, he felt a sense ofexaltation because he had the power to put that love behind him in hisdealings with the man he had resolved to fight. It was a relief toconvin
ce himself now that Barrett was his implacable foe. Any otherbelief would have made him less courageous.

  And when John Barrett, at sound of the tramp of many feet in the outerroom, opened the door of his private office and stood framed there,Dwight Wade welcomed the spectacle of his antagonist. Barrett's face wassaturnine when he surveyed the group.

  "I do not understand this, Mr. Wade," he said. "You and I arranged aconference. But there was no arrangement for a general hearing."

  "The question of conditions on the Umcolcus is a question that takes inall of us who operate there, Mr. Barrett," said Wade. "I'm present toanswer to matters that can be charged to my individual responsibility,but the interests of all of us have a bearing on that responsibility,and we are here to have a fair understanding."

  Barrett stepped back, and motioned the young man to enter the privateoffice.

  "If you have come to speak for these men," he said, "you may step inhere, and we will see if we can arrange to have the directors meet themlater."

  "Well, Mr. Wade," he remarked, when they were alone, "so you have becomea magnate in the north country in strictly record time!"

  "Sarcasm won't help us any in settling this matter!" cried the youngman, warmly. "I can understand very well, Mr. Barrett, how you from yourposition look down on me in mine. But I have at least become some sortof a business man, and I--"

  "You have become an almighty good business man," declared the landbaron, with such a ring of sincerity in his voice that the young manstared at him in sudden astonishment, "and in a little while we willtalk business."

  "That is all I'm here to talk," said Wade, the red coming into hischeeks.

  When he had left the group of the lumbermen he noticed that some of thembent lowering looks upon him. They had seen other men invited apart andbought from their purpose. Wade wondered if the Honorable John DavisBarrett was not about to trade amnesty on the Blunder dam charge forbetrayal of the men who had come at his back to "Castle Cut 'Em."

  Then a sense of shame at such suspicion came to him, as John Barrettbegan to speak:

  "Mr. Wade," said he, "you are more of a chap in every way than you werethe last time you were in this office, but--you are still young." Fromthat moment the older man had the advantage. And yet Barrett was notcalm. He sat down at his desk, and tossed his papers as he talked. Hisgaze wavered. His jowls hung heavy and flabby. The marks of hisprostrating illness had not left him. But in the gloom of his face therewas depression that did not arise from physical causes. Barrett's bitterexperience had drawn its black cloud around him. He pulled out the shelfof his desk, set his elbows upon it as though to steady his nerves, andfaced Wade.

  "Young man," he began, "the way the world looks at those things--fromthe stand-point of some one who hasn't been through the fire--I canafford to look down on you from my height as a moneyed man, and assomething more in this State. An outsider might think so. But, by ----,you are the one that can look down on me, for you are square and clean!"

  He would not allow Wade to interrupt.

  "I haven't called you in here to buy or bulldoze you. There is a matterbetween us that hasn't been settled. I made you a promise on JerusalemMountain that I didn't keep. I had excuses that seemed good to me then.They don't look that way now. They didn't look good to me when I got offmy sick-bed at Castonia. Did Rodburd Ide tell you anything about my talkwith the girl?"

  "He told me, Mr. Barrett."

  The magnate plunged on desperately.

  "I don't think you're dull, Mr. Wade, but you can't understand what itmeant to me when my child turned on me, spat in my face, and left me. Itwasn't merely the bitterness of that one moment--the blistering memoryof it goes to sleep with me and wakes up with me. It's with me in everylook my daughter Elva gives me, though the poor child tries to hide fromme that her old faith and trust have left her. I'm not going to whine,young man, but I'm in hell--in hell!"

  His voice broke weakly. Then there was silence in the room. Wade heardonly the yell of the distant saws and the shuffle of the woodsmen's feetas they paced the big reception-hall of King Spruce.

  Between the two men there was too much understanding for empty words ofsympathy.

  "Lane is dead," blurted the millionaire, at last. "What will become ofthe girl?"

  "MacLeod is to marry her. She nursed him through his sickness atCastonia; they love each other very sincerely, Mr. Barrett, and you needhave no trouble about her future. Neither of them will ever trouble you;in fact, MacLeod asked me to say as much for him."

  Barrett was silent a long time, his gaze on the floor. He looked up atlast, and his eyes shone as though a comforting thought had come to him.

  "There's one thing I can do. I've got money enough to make themindependent for life. Be my agent in that, Mr. Wade, and--"

  "I have another message from MacLeod. I have grown to know the manpretty well, and you'd best take my advice. He says it will be dangerousbusiness for any man to put out a hand to him with anything in it."

  "You mean they won't take a fortune when I am ready to hand it to them?"

  "I mean it, Mr. Barrett. There are strange notions among some of thefolks of the big woods. Your money is of no use. I advise you franklynot to offer it. At any rate, I'll not insult MacLeod by being yourmessenger."

  The timber magnate whirled his chair and gazed away from Wade, lookinginto the depths of his big steel vault.

  At the end of a few minutes Wade spoke to him, but he did not reply.When the young man accosted him again, after a decent pause, Barrettspoke over his shoulder without turning his face.

  "The directors and myself will meet your party in the board-room acrossthe hall in half an hour, Mr. Wade."

  It was not the voice of John Barrett. It was the thin, quavering tone ofa man who was mourning, and wished to be left alone.

  Wade went quietly away.

  He was John Barrett once more when Wade saw him half an hour later atthe head of the big table in the directors' room. All the board wasthere except Britt.

  The lumbermen whom Wade headed stood in solid phalanx at the foot of theroom. There were no chairs for them. But they accepted this factpatiently.

  Wade, a little in advance of his associates, looked into the face of theHonorable John Barrett, now impassive once more. But there was a strangegleam in the eyes. In the hush it seemed that the directors were waitingfor Wade to speak--it was the coldly contemptuous silence of King Spruceready to hearken.

  The young man accepted this waiting as his challenge. He stepped to thelower end of the huge table; John Barrett arose at the other end, andbent forward, leaning on his knuckles.

  "Gentlemen," he said, his tone courteous, his air pacificatory, "Mr.Dwight Wade, of the Enchanted Lumber Association is here to-day toconfer with us on those matters that have already been considered by usin executive session. I wish first, with your permission, to inform himon one point that we have already decided. My statement will enable usto avoid discussion of an unpleasant matter--I may say, an unprofitablematter."

  It was plain to be seen that Mr. Barrett was dominating this session, ashe had undoubtedly dominated the preliminary session in which thesentiment of King Spruce towards Dwight Wade had been crystallized.Somehow the young man understood that the strange look in Barrett's eyesmeant reassurance.

  "The destruction of Blunder Lake dam was a mistake," continued Barrett,but without even a note of reproach in his voice.

  "I am ashamed to have to fight that way for common rights that have beenstolen," said the young man. "It's nasty fighting, and I don't want tofight that way any more."

  "We don't, either," broke in a director, bluntly. "There's no money init."

  "A moment, gentlemen," interposed Barrett, "I have the floor. I don'tpropose to speak any ill of an associate--an unfortunate associate. Irefer to Mr. Britt, who has for so many years been our executive in thenorth woods. But I can say frankly, as I have said to his face, that wehave deplored some of his measures as unwise. We have tried to restrainhi
m, but we have not been able to hold him back. Let us be charitable,gentlemen, and say merely that old-fashioned lumbering in this State hasbeen conducted on wrong ideas. The manner of putting in Blunder Lake damis a case in point. In compromising the present disputes between thetimber interests and the other tax-paying interests of the State, I'llbe frank to say that the history of that dam would not be helpful.Prosecuting you, Mr. Wade, would entail going into the history of thatdam. Therefore, we shall not prosecute you; and an arrangement hasalready been made by which you are purged of contempt of court in thematter of the injunction."

  He grew earnest.

  "You have undoubtedly come here to tell us, Mr. Wade, that the woods arebeing butchered for immediate profit; that the present system oflumbering forces operators to use destructive measures. But we can'tenter into argument on that. We admit it. We have been slow aboutgetting together to correct those abuses. We also admit that the timeseems to have arrived when we must have a different system. I have beenupon my timber tracts during the past year, and have received new lighton a great many matters that I had not taken pains to inform myself on.I now view the situation differently, and my associates have coincidedwith my views."

  For the others it was merely a business confession of error, an appealfor compromise. To Dwight Wade, looking into the eyes of John Barrettand studying his strange expression, it was much more, and his heartbeat quickly. "The whole situation will undoubtedly take a new aspectfrom now on. We propose, on our part, to leave the past just as it is;set mistakes against mistakes, gentlemen, and clean the slates."

  He straightened, dropping his air of confidential appeal.

  "Next week, gentlemen, the convention of my party will nominate me to bethe next governor of this State. I need not tell you that the nominationmeans election. I fully realize my responsibilities. I propose to assumethem, and to execute them honestly. I declare here before my associates,as I shall later to the people of the State, that if I am elected Ishall be a governor of the whole people, and not of any faction.Personally I shall be glad, Mr. Wade, to have you and all othersinterested come before the next legislature, present complaints andarguments, and let this whole matter be settled justly. You will findthat you and your supporters, as well as we, have interests to protectagainst the demagogues. In the new conditions that are coming toprevail in public matters, those who manage to keep the full measure oftheir rights are exceedingly fortunate. Against those new conditions itis folly to fight. But in correcting abuses the pendulum sometimesswings too far. I think we can fairly ask you, Mr. Wade, and thoseoperators who may follow your leadership, to join us in protecting whatrightfully belongs to us--to all of us. You will understand that I amoffering no hint of bulldozing nor inviting corrupt collusion. It hascome to a time when we cannot afford to jeopardize our party or ourproperty, and the safety of both is concerned in a full and franksettlement of this question of the timber lands."

  He gazed inquiringly at this young man who had come up to the fortressto fight, and now found fortress and foe dissolving like a mirage. Therewas but one manly attitude to take towards a public pledge of that sort.

  "Mr. Barrett," declared Wade, earnestly, "on that basis you have myhonest co-operation." He took his hat. There was no excuse for remaininglonger in a directors' meeting of the Umcolcus Lumbering Association.His head whirled with the suddenness of this new situation.

  There was a general mumble of indorsement from the men massed at therear of the room, but one of the group spoke out after a moment'shesitation: "I'm glad to hear you talk of a square deal before nextlegislature, Mr. Barrett, but I can't help rememberin' that when some ofus went up to the state-house two years ago, to see if we couldn't get afew rights, we butted square up against a lobby that was handlin' somefifteen thousand dollars of King Spruce's money to beat us with, and tokeep things right where they were."

  There was no mistaking Barrett's sincerity now.

  "Gentlemen," he cried, "I have just been admitting that there have beenmistakes made in handling this matter. I didn't intend to go intodetails. It is not a pleasant task. But when I say that this mattershall have fair and square hearing in future, I mean it. And I pledgefor myself and my associates--call us 'King Spruce,' if that means mostto you--that not one dollar will be used by us in the next legislature,except for expenses of counsel and witnesses before the committees--thesame legitimate expenses that you of the opposition will incur."

  There was no Thomas among them who could persist in the face of adeclaration like that. They dispersed.

  Barrett overtook Wade in the corridor, slipped his hand beneath theyoung man's arm, and, without a word, led him back into the privateoffice.

  "I want to ask you a question, Mr. Wade," he said, still holding him bythe arm. "Once, in stress of feelings and under peculiar circumstances,I promised certain things and did not fulfil them. You therefore have aperfect right to be sceptical as to my good faith now. I ask you--areyou?"

  "No, Mr. Barrett, I am not," returned Wade, with simple earnestness.

  "Thank you, my boy!" His voice broke on the words. "When even a squareand clean man gets to my age he begins to realize that the world is abigger creditor of his than he had figured in the past," he went on,after a pause. "In the last few months I have had some bills presentedto me that have found me a miserable bankrupt in spite of what my vaultholds. You know what my debts are. Linus Lane was right when he told methat my kind of currency couldn't pay those debts. The dead have gone,leaving me their debtor; the living hold me their debtor still. My boy,when I realize what I owe and how useless that stuff is in there"--heshook his hand at the open door of the vault--"I loathe my money! Youknow what I owe to one child, and you have brought me word that I cannever pay her. You know just as well what I owe to another child--I havetaken from her most of her faith and love and happiness. Thank God, Ican pay that debt in part, and I know the human heart well enough now tounderstand that I shall be paying the greater part."

  He left Wade abruptly, and walked to the window and looked down into thestreet. He beckoned to the young man without turning his head. Wade,coming to his side, saw Elva Barrett's pony phaeton.

  "I told my creditor to come here, and you see she is prompt," saidBarrett, with a wistful smile. "She has accepted what I offer insettlement of my debt, and I offer you my hand, and tell you, with allthe earnestness of my soul, that since I have come to realize values Iapprove my creditor's judgment. I have agreed to pay promptly on demand.Don't keep her waiting."

  He pushed his "collateral" out into the corridor, and shut the doorbehind him.

  Wade ran down the stairway, his hat in his hand, and came upon thesidewalk into the glare of the June sunshine. She was there! The silk ofthe phaeton's parasol strained a soft and tender light upon her face,and her glorious eyes received him, coming towards her, as though intoan embrace. He swayed a little as he crossed the sidewalk, for his eyesswam. And before he reached her he turned and cast one look back at thegreat building behind him. He seemed to want to reassure himself aboutsomething--to see solid bricks and stone--to convince himself that itwas not a fairy palace in which he had so amazingly and suddenly foundthe full fruition of all his hopes.

  "What have they been doing to you in the ogres' den, Dwight, boy?" sheasked, a ripple of laughter in her voice.

  "I--I don't know!" he stammered. "It all happened so suddenly. Take meaway, sweetheart, where I can see a tree. I want to find my bearingsonce more!"

  The pony trotted away demurely--so demurely that the girl surrenderedone hand to him, and he held it tight-clutched between them, wordless, amist in his eyes.

  "Then it did astonish you, after all?" she ventured, breaking thesilence.

  For reply he pressed her hand. She was first to speak again.

  "I know what a strange boy you are, Dwight," she said, with a touch ofhumor in her tones. "For the peace of your soul for ever and ever, andthe satisfaction of your pride, I want to tell you that my fatheroffered me to you--I did not beg y
ou from my father; but"--she hesitatedand looked at him slyly--"I didn't question the legal tender! Now thatyou are a business man, I suppose we ought to use business terms!"

  But with his great love shining in his eyes, he pointed away from thestaring houses, where the road wound on under the trees and the peace ofperfect understanding lay beneath.

  THE END

  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

  Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters' errors; otherwise,every effort has been made to remain true to the author's words andintent.