by E. W. Howe
CHAPTER IX.
THE "APRON AND PASSWORD."
The guests at the hotel, with their dull wit and small gossip, haddisappeared, and the proprietor was seated at the long table in thedining-room, eating his supper, with no companion save Silas Davy, thepatient man-of-all-work.
A queer case, the proprietor. Instead of being useful to the hotel, aswould naturally be expected, he was a detriment to it, for he did noteven come to his meals when they were ready, making a special tablenecessary three times a day, greatly to the disgust of Mrs. Armsby, whodid about everything around the place, from tending the office tosuperintending the kitchen; and she succeeded so well in all theseparticulars that occasional strangers had been known to familiarly pather husband on the back, and congratulate him on keeping a house whichwas known far and near for its fine attention to guests.
Armsby did not drink, or gamble, or anything of that kind, but he owneda gun and a hunting dog, and knew exactly when the ducks appeared in thelakes, and when the shrill piping of quail might be expected in thethickets; and he was usually there, in his grotesque hunting costume, towelcome them. In addition to this he was fond of fishing, and belongedto all the lodges; so that he had little time to attend to business,even had he been inclined that way.
Mrs. Armsby regarded the men who sold powder and fishing-tackle, andencouraged the lodges, about as many another sad-hearted woman regardsthe liquor-sellers; and, as she went wearily about her work, had beenheard to wonder whether hunting and fishing and lodge-going were notgreater evils than drinking; for she had no use for her husbandwhatever, although he was a great deal of trouble. He never got out ofbed without being called a dozen times, but when he did get up, and wasfinally dressed (which occupied him at least an hour) he was such acheerful fellow, and told of his triumph at the lodge election the nightbefore, or of his fancy shots the day before, with such good nature thathe was usually forgiven. Indeed, the people found no other fault withhis idleness than to good-naturedly refer to his hotel as the "Apron andPassword," probably a tribute to the English way of naming houses ofpublic entertainment; for they argued that if Mrs. Armsby could forgiveher husband's faults, it was no affair of theirs; and by this name theplace was known.
But he had one good habit; he was fond of his wife--not because she madethe living, and allowed him to exist in idleness, but really and trulyfond of her; though everyone was fond of capable Mrs. Armsby: for thoughshe was nearly always at work, she found time to learn enough of passingevents to be a fair conversationalist, and sometimes entertained theguests in the parlor by singing, accompanying herself on the piano.
It was said that as a girl Mrs. Armsby had been the favorite of a circleof rich relatives and friends, and that she spent the earlier portion ofher life in a pleasant and aristocratic home; but when she found itnecessary to make her own living, and support a husband besides, shewent about it with apparent good nature, and was generally regarded as avery remarkable woman. She had been Annie Benton's first teacher, inaddition to her regular duties, and a pupil still came to the houseoccasionally, only to find her making bread in the kitchen, or beds inthe upper rooms.
Armsby had been out hunting, as usual, and his wife had prepared hissupper with her own hands, which he was now discussing.
"There are a great many unhappy women in the world, Davy," Armsby said,looking admiringly at the contents of the plates around him, "for thereason that most husbands are mean to their wives. I wouldn't be a womanfor all the money in Thompson Benton's safe; I am thankful that I am aman, if for nothing else. It is very pretty to say that any woman is sogood that she can have her pick of a husband, but it is not true, formost of them marry men who are cross to them, and unfair, andthoughtless; but Mrs. Armsby has her own way here. She has a maid and aman, and I fancy she is rather a fortunate woman. Instead of beingbossed around by her husband, he keeps out of the way and gives her fullcharge. Pull up to the table and eat something, won't you? Help yourselfto the sardines."
Davy accepted the invitation, and was helping himself when Mr. Armsbysaid:
"You will find them mighty good; and they ought to be good, for theycost sixty cents a box--the three you have on your plate cost a dime.But they are as free as the air you breathe. Help yourself; have somemore, and make it fifteen cents."
Davy concluded not to take any sardines after this, and after browsingaround among the mixed pickles and goat-cheese awhile, and being toldthat they ought to be good, for they cost enough, he concluded thatArmsby's hospitality was intended as a means of calling attention to hisrich fare; for he was very particular, and in order to please him hiswife always provided something for his table which was produced at noother time. There was a bottle of olives on the table, and when Davytook one of them, Armsby explained that he had imported them himself atenormous expense, although they had been really bought at one of thestores as a job lot, the proprietor having had them on hand a number ofyears.
"Any guests to-night?" Armsby inquired, trying to look very much vexedthat the clerk had not accepted the invitation to refresh himself.
"No," Davy answered, a little sulky because of his rebuff.
"I am sorry for that," Armsby continued. "Mrs. Armsby enjoys a livelyparlor, and she has a great deal of time in which to make herselfagreeable. What a wonderful woman she is to fix up! Always neat, andalways pleasant; but she has little else to do. You don't take verykindly to the ladies yourself, Davy?"
The boarders frequently accused Davy of being fond of various old widowsand maids in the town, whom he had really never spoken to, and gravelyhinted that the streets were full of rumors of his approaching nuptials;but he paid no attention to these banters, nor did he now, except togive a little grunt of contempt for any one so foolish as to marry.
"Why, bless me, Davy," Armsby said, laying down his knife and fork inastonishment; "how bald you are becoming! Let me see the back of yourhead."
Silas turned his back to his employer's husband, and looked up at theceiling.
"It's coming; you will be as bald as a plate in a year. But we must allexpect it; fortune has no favorites in this respect. I know a man whodoes not mistreat his wife, but I never knew one who wasn't bald. Youmight as well quit washing your head in salt water, Davy; for it will dono good."
The facts were that Davy gave no sign of approaching baldness; butArmsby, being very bald himself, was always trying to discover thatother people's hair was falling out.
"Better remain single, though," he continued, referring to matrimonyagain, "than to marry a woman and mistreat her. All the men are unjustto their wives, barring the honorable exception just named; therefore ithas always been my policy to make Mrs. Armsby a notable exception. Isthere another woman in the Bend who handles all the money, and doesexactly as she pleases? You are around a good bit; do you know ofanother?"
Davy thought to himself that she was entitled to the privilege ofhandling the money, since she earned it all, besides supporting avagrant husband; but he said nothing, for Silas was not a talkative man.
"Whatever she does is entirely satisfactory to me," continued the modelhusband. "I never complain; indeed, I find much to admire. There is notanother woman like her in the world, and it contains an awful lot ofpeople."
Mrs. Armsby appeared from the kitchen at this moment, and, greeting herhusband pleasantly, really seemed charmed with his presence. While shewas looking after his wants, he told her of his hunting that day; how hehad made more double shots than any of his companions; how his dog hadproved, for the hundredth time, that he was the very best in thecountry, as he had always contended; how tired and hungry he was, andhow fortunate it was that there was no lodge that night, as in thatevent he would have to be present.
His wife finally disappeared into the kitchen again, to arrange for thefirst meal of the next day, and Armsby said to Davy,--
"Poor woman, she has so little to occupy her mind that she has gone intothe kitchen to watch Jennie peel the potatoes. If business was not sodull--you say it is
dull; I know nothing about it myself--I would hire acompanion for her; someone to read to her, and walk about with herduring the day. It's too bad."
Unfortunately for the patrons of the Apron-and-Password, Armsby had beento New York; and though he had remained but two days, since his returnhe had pretended to a knowledge of the metropolis which was marvellous.When a New York man was mentioned, Armsby pretended to know himintimately, telling cheerful anecdotes of how their acquaintance beganand ended. Whenever a New York institution was referred to, he wasfamiliar with it, almost to intimacy; and a few of the Davy's Bendpeople amused themselves by inventing fictitious names and places in NewYork, and inducing Armsby to profess a knowledge of them, which he didwith cheerful promptness.
He never neglected an opportunity to talk about his trip, therefore whenhe put his chair back from the table, and engaged in quiet meditation,Silas felt sure he was about to introduce the subject in a new way; forArmsby was a very ingenious as well as a very lazy man.
"You ought to wear the apron, Silas," Mr. Armsby said, looking at Silaswith the greatest condescension and pity; "but it would be dreadful ifyour application should be greeted with the blacks. I don't recommendthat you try it, mind, for that is not allowed, and the records willshow that we lodge men have so much regard for principle that it hasnever been done; but it is something that everyone should think about,sooner or later. Only the very best men wear this emblem of greatness.But if you have faults, I should advise you not to run the risk of beinghumiliated, for the members are very particular. A lazy man, or ashiftless man, or a bad man of any kind, cannot get in; and when a manbelongs to a lodge, it can be depended upon that he is as near right asthey make them. This is the reason we must be particular in admittingnew members. Reputation is at stake; for, once you are in, the othersstand by you with their lives and their sacred honor. There's nothinglike it."
The landlord occupied himself a moment in pleasant thought of thelodges, in connection with their cheapness and general utility, and thencontinued, after smiling in a gratified way over his own importance inthe lodge connection,--
"When I first went to New York I became acquainted with the very bestpeople immediately; for every man who wears the apron has confidence inevery other man who wears it; each knows that the other has beenselected from the masses with care, and they trust each other to thefullest extent. One day I went over into--"
Armsby could not remember names, and he snapped his fingers now invexation.
"It is strange I am unable to name the town," he said; "I am as familiarwith it as I am with my own stable. Well, no matter; anyway it is a bigsuburb, and you reach it by crossing the--"
Again he stopped, and tried to recall the name of the bridge he hadcrossed, and the city he had visited, but to no avail; though he rappedhis head soundly with his knuckles, for its bad behavior, and got up towalk up and down the room.
"If I should forget your name, or Mrs. Armsby's, it would not be moreremarkable," he continued, at last, giving up in despair. "I was broughtup in sight of them; but what I started out to say was, that I walkedinto a bank one day, and the fine-looking man who was at the counterlooked at me, at first, with the greatest suspicion, thinking I was arobber, no doubt, until I gave him a certain sign. You should have seenthe change in his manner! He came through a little door at the side, andshaking hands with me in a certain way, known only to those on theinside, took me into a private office in the rear, where a number ofother fine-looking gentlemen were seated around a table.
"'President Judd,' he said to them, 'this gentleman wears the apron.'
"All the elegant gentlemen were delighted to see me. It was not feigned,either, for it was genuine delight; and a controversy sprang up as towhich of them should give his time to my entertainment while in thecity, though I protested that I was so well acquainted that I could getalong very well alone. But they insisted upon it, and when they began toquarrel rather fiercely about it, I gave them a sign (which remindedthem of their pledge to be brothers), whereupon they were allgood-natured at once, and one of them said,--
"'Thank you for reminding us of our duty, brother; the best of us willoccasionally forget. Will you do us the favor to pick out one of ournumber to show you about, and make your stay in the city pleasant?'"
Davy noticed that Mrs. Armsby was listening at the kitchen door, thoughArmsby did not know it, for his back was turned toward her; but he didnot mention the circumstance.
"I liked the looks of Mr. Judd," Armsby continued, "so I said that ifthe other brothers would not take offence, I would like his company. Theothers said, 'Oh, not at all,' all of them making the sign to bebrothers at the same time, and President Judd at once began arranginghis business so he could go out with me, not neglecting to put a bigroll of money in his pocket; and, though it was very big, the otherssaid it wasn't half enough."
Davy believed everything the people saw fit to tell him, and vouched forthe truth of it when he repeated it himself, and was very muchinterested in what Armsby was saying.
"Well, sir, when we went out, the sign was everything. You cannotimagine how potent it was. We made it when we wanted a carriage, and thedriver regarded it as a favor to carry us for nothing; we made it whenwe were hungry, and it assured us the greatest attention at the hotels,which were nothing like this, but larger--very much larger."
Davy gave evidence of genuine astonishment on learning that there werehotels larger than the "Apron and Password;" but as the proprietorhimself had made the statement, he presumed it must be true, though itwas certainly very astonishing.
"I can't think of the name of it now, but they have a railroad in thesecond story of the street there, and instead of collecting fare, whenthe proprietors came around they put money in our outside pockets,thinking we might meet someone who was not a brother. Judd remained withme five days, taking me to his own residence at night, which was twiceas big as The Locks, and when we finally parted, he loaded me down withpresents, and shed tears. Next to the sign, the apron is the greatestthing in the world; I am sorry you do not wear it."
Armsby wandered leisurely out into the office soon after, probably tosmoke the cigars his wife kept there in a case for sale, when Mrs.Armsby came into the dining-room, and sat down, looking mortified anddistressed.
"Silas," she said, "don't believe a word Armsby has said to you, or everwill say, on this subject. Before he became a slave to this dreadfullodge habit, he was a truthful man, but you can't believe a word he saysnow. Do you know what they do at the lodges?"
Davy shook his head, for of course no one except a member _could_ know.
"Let me tell you, then. They tie cooks' aprons around their waists, putfools' caps on their heads, and quarrel as to whether the hailing sign,or the aid sign, or whatever it is, is made by holding up one fingerwhen the right thumb is touching the right ear, or whether it is two orthree or four fingers. It is all about as ridiculous as this, and myadvice to you is, never join. Armsby has been talking to you a good dealabout the matter lately, and I suspect he wants the fun of initiatingyou, which is accompanied with all sorts of tricks, which gives themopportunity to make fun of you from behind their paper masks."
Since it was impossible to believe both stories, Silas made up his mindto ask Tug's opinion,--Tug would know,--but he said nothing.
"Some of them wear swords," Mrs. Armsby went on to say; "but, bless you,they can't draw them, and even if they should succeed in getting themout, they couldn't put them back in their scabbards again. Armsby camehome one night wearing his sword, and in this very room he took it outto make a show of himself, and was so awkward with it that he broke halfthe dishes on the dresser, besides upsetting the lamp and wounding me onthe hand. To complete his disgrace, he was compelled to ask me to put itin its case again; but I fear the lesson did the misguided man littlegood, for he has been as bad as ever since. But while these men might bepardoned for their foolishness if they remained in their halls, they areutterly unpardonable for disgracing their wives and friends by
appearingon the street, which they occasionally do, dressed in more fantasticfashion than ever. If you should join, you would be expected to do this,and after one appearance you could never look a sensible person in theface again, unless you are lost to all sense of self-respect. Besides,it is expensive; my husband keeps me poor in attending grand lodges, andmost of the failures are caused by neglecting business to talk lodge. Myonly fear is that my misguided husband will finally consider it his dutyto kill somebody for telling about the signs and grips, and then we willall be disgraced. It is your misfortune as well as mine, Silas, thatArmsby is not a drunkard. Drunkards are occasionally reformed, and areof some use in their sober intervals; but a lodge man never reforms. Ifa lodge man engages in business, he fails, for he does not attend to it;but a drinking man admits that he is doing wrong, and sometimes succeedsin his efforts to do better; whereas a lodge man argues all the timethat his foolishness is good sense, and therefore don't try to get outof the way. Compared to me, Mrs. Whittle is a very fortunate woman."
Mrs. Armsby got up at this and went out; and as Silas was preparing tofollow, he heard a whistle which he recognized at once as Tug's.Whenever Tug had use for Silas early in the evening, he had a habit ofwhistling him out, since he never came into the hotel until his friendhad possession.
Silas at once put on his hat and went down to the wagon yard, where hefound Tug impatiently waiting, who started off at a rapid swinging gaittoward the lower end of the town and the river as soon as Silas caughtsight of him. When the pair travelled, Davy always lagged behind, as hedid in this instance; for in the presence of genius like Tug's, he feltthat his place was in the rear. Others might doubt the ability or eventhe honesty of his friend, but Silas had no doubt that Tug would someday be a wonderful man, and prove that everything said to his discreditwas untrue. It was a favorite saying of his that when he "came into hisown," he would move about, with the magnificence of a circus procession,on the back of an elephant, with a brass band in front and a company oftrumpeters behind; and Silas was content to wait. Tug occasionallyillustrated this idea now as he walked along, by swinging and flinginghis body about as those who ride on elephants do, and it occurred toSilas that "his own" must have arrived by boat, and that he was goingafter it; for he walked rapidly toward the river without looking around.
Tug had not spoken a word since setting out, and after reaching thestreet which led down to the crazy collection of houses where he lived,he travelled down that way a while, and at last turned off toward theright, following the course of the river through alleys and back yards,and over fences and gaping sloughs, until at last he stopped near an oldwarehouse, which had been used a great many years before in storingfreight arriving by the boats when the Bend was an important town. Itwas entirely deserted now, and as the two men stopped in its shadow, Tuggave his companion to understand that he must be very quiet and secret.
After they had blown awhile, Tug began crawling around the building onhis hands and knees, followed by his companion, occasionally raising hishand as a warning when they both stopped to listen. When Tug had reachedthe other end of the warehouse, he motioned Davy to come up to him; andwhen he did so this is what he saw:--
A light skiff tied to the bank, with the oars laid across it, and awoman seated in the stern--the woman they had seen when they followedthe shadow down the river, after its appearance at Allan Dorris'swindow. They were certain it was the same woman, because she wore awaterproof cloak, as she did on the night when they followed the shadowdown the river, and she was very small. Her back was turned toward them,and she was motionless as a statue; and realizing that as her ears werecovered with the waterproof she could not hear well, the two men aroseto their feet after a careful inspection, and walked back to the otherend of the building.
"I intend to steal her," Tug whispered into his companion's ear, at thesame time reaching down into Davy's pocket and taking out ahandkerchief, which he arranged in his hand like a sling ready for use.
