CRIMSON MOUNTAIN

by Grace Livingston Hill

  Winter and he had both brought along suitcases and had worn overcoats, but only his own coat and suitcase remained. Winter’s were gone.

  He tossed his things into his case and went down hurriedly, meeting Faber at the foot of the stairs.

  “Mr. Faber, have you seen Winter?” he asked. “I seem to have missed him somehow.”

  “Why, no, I haven’t seen him this morning,” said Faber, “but he told me last night, or rather this morning, before he retired, that he was leaving early, driving down in his own car. I believe he took a couple of my guests with him who had early engagements. Mr. Schmidt and Mr. Gratz. He said he thought you would find plenty to give you a ride in case you decided not to get up quite so early. I believe Mr. Byrger agreed to look after you. Isn’t that so, Byrger?”

  “Yes,” said a tall, stolid, blond man with a countenance that was so unreadable at first sight that instinctively Rainey felt indisposed to go with him. “I was just about to ask where Mr. Rainey was. I’m in somewhat of a hurry.”

  “Oh, thank you,” said Tom Rainey, stepping forward. “Greatly obliged, I’m sure, if you don’t mind. I’m all ready.” And he caught up his suitcase, made hasty adieus, and followed the stranger, wondering what in the world this all meant and why Winter had deserted him without explanation.

  The stranger was close-mouthed and during the long ride said very little, enabling Tom Rainey to reflect on some of the quiet, caustic sentences that Winter had let fall while they were sitting watching the “chump” in the opposite corner of the room last night, also the cryptic responses to his questions that morning when he first awoke. Could it be that Winter was trying to teach him a lesson? Or to give him a hint that there were enemies in the camp? Why was it that Bruce Winter could always manage to make one feel so ignorant and that he knew it all? Well, he would show him that he could be as cautious as the next one when work really began. But why should he go around spoiling all the fun beforehand?

  It was about that time that his silent companion turned to him with evident purpose and looked him over carefully. “You were over in the old country with Winter?” he queried, scanning his features as if obtaining a photographic impression.

  Rainey narrowed his eyelids and put on indifference. So! The man was going to own he was a German or something near to that, was he? Well, he wouldn’t get much out of him.

  “Winter tell you that?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows and scanning the other’s face amusedly.

  “Yes, he mentioned it just before he left this morning.”

  “It must be so then,” said Rainey. “I have a great respect for Winter’s devotion to the truth. You knew him over there, I suppose?”

  “No, I never met him until this morning.”

  “By the way, I don’t remember seeing you at the dinner and dance last night.” Rainey’s air was of one who had felt very much at home on the expedition.

  Byrger answered in a colorless voice, “No. I didn’t get here until late. Wouldn’t have been here now if I hadn’t come on an urgent errand.” And then Byrger lapsed into another extended silence.

  Rainey, sitting there thinking, with the sound of the other man’s colorless tones still echoing in his ears, tried to figure out whether in this man’s smooth, brief words there had been a distinct German accent or whether there was another nationality blended with it. Byrger! That wasn’t a German name, was it? Or Austrian? He couldn’t be sure. During his stay abroad, he had grown fairly familiar with different accents and considered himself able to detect and recognize the origin of each speech he heard. Yet this man’s speech puzzled him. Certainly he had been much in the United States, for he spoke like an American-born.

  And yet why should it matter so much? Was he being put on the spot to test him?

  Suddenly Byrger spoke again, watching him closely the while. “Have you been to Crimson Mountain?”

  The question was so abrupt, so unexpected, that he barely controlled his features, barely restrained a start. So! Was this man one of their company? Or perhaps one whom they were supposed to search out and guard against? In any case, Rainey was a good actor, and he assumed a highly creditable drawl. “Crimson Mountain,” he repeated meditatively. “Is that someplace I should have been? Certainly is a colorful name! Sounds interesting. Any reason why I should have been there?”

  The other watched him speculatively, then with a slight shrug said, “Could be.”

  As they drew nearer to the city, it was Rainey who spoke. “You are in defense work?”

  The other bowed gravely. “In a way,” he said. “I’m an inventor by trade.”

  “Yes?” said Rainey with a grave air. “I should suppose that is a wide field just now in which to work.”

  The other made no reply, and for some time there was silence. Then Byrger asked, “What line are you in?”

  “Oh, I’m a writer by trade,” said Rainey, indifferently. “Plenty to write about in these days, of course.”

  Byrger bowed. “Plenty.”

  That was the end of the conversation until they entered the city. Then Rainey asked to be let out in front of a large printing establishment where a number of magazines and newspapers were published, and quite at a distance from the room where he and Winter made their home.

  “Thanks so much for the lift,” he said to Byrger. “It’s been so pleasant. Perhaps we shall soon meet again.”

  “Well—yes,” said the other. And then with an unexpected gleam in his fishy eyes, he added, “Could be!”

  As Rainey climbed the stairs to the office of a magazine on the fourth floor where he had at different times sold some of his articles and stories, he reflected how little he had been able to learn of his companion on that ride. Just cryptic phrases, uncanny questions, knowing looks, inscrutable silences, and a sense that the man had not only been studying him, analyzing his very soul, and accurately reading him, but also that he had been belittling him and despising him. This was no very good report to make to Winter when he should have to account for himself to his colleague. There was no alternative but to be mysterious, as indeed Winter had been with him the night before. He would not have to tell all he had discovered about the man, nor indeed to let it be known how very little he was really wiser for that drive to the city.

  So after a brief call on his editor friend and a briefer discussion of the article he was to write for the paper in the near future, Rainey betook himself to his room in search of Winter. And not finding him, he went on to find Dexter and see if there were further orders in the future.

  Chapter 7

  Laurel was done early that morning. She had been too excited to do much sleeping after her extensive packing was done, and she was ready to step out at a moment’s notice from the cousin’s home where she had been visiting.

  She knew that her cousin would not be down early after her late bridge party, and it might just happen that it would be so late that she would have to be on her way before Carolyn awoke, for she still was holding to her purpose of going whenever Pilgrim should call her. So she slipped out to the kitchen and coaxed the servant who was getting breakfast to let her have some toast and coffee at once, saying she didn’t know but she might have to go away in a very few minutes in case she got a phone call.

  It was while she was finishing the hasty breakfast that the telephone rang, and then she heard Pilgrim’s voice say, “Is that you, Laurel?” Strangely, delightedly her heart throbbed with happiness.

  “Yes, Phil!” There was a pleasant eager friendliness in her voice that did things to Phil’s heart in spite of his best resolves.

  “Well, listen,” he said. “I found my lawyer. He’s willing to go over to Carrollton this afternoon and fix things up. I phoned Banfield, and he understands it all and will have his man on hand when I get there.”

  “Good!” said Laurel. “That’s the way you wanted it, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It’s the best way, of course. But see, I’ve got to either be there before my lawyer arrives on the aft
ernoon train and meet him and take him to Banfield’s house, or else I’ve got to stay here till the noon train and ride over with him. He’s going to look up all the papers and get everything in shape, and he wants to ask me a few more questions after he gets hold of my grandfather’s will and the deed to the property, which is in the bank. So I guess that lets you out of a heavy burden you put upon yourself and relieves you of my company. I shall be the loser of course, but I fancy that will greatly simplify the situation as far as you are concerned.”

  “No,” said Laurel firmly, “it won’t simplify the situation at all. There are a lot of questions I have thought up during the night I want to ask you. I mean it, really! And why can’t we take that lawyer over with us? Then he can come back on the train, can’t he? I’m quite all ready to leave within a half hour.”

  “Well, that’s great of you, of course, but I’m ashamed to put a strange lawyer upon you.”

  “That’s silly. I’ll be glad to take him, too. There is plenty of room in my car. I’m having my baggage put in the trunk at the back right now, and I’ll meet you downtown wherever will be convenient for you, whenever you say.”

  “All right, partner. Suppose I call the lawyer and let you know in half an hour what his reaction is. Will that be all right?”

  “Quite all right,” said Laurel with a lilt in her voice. Of course it wasn’t going to be quite as pleasant with a strange lawyer along, but she wouldn’t let a little thing like that spoil her day.

  So she called the house man and got him to carry her baggage down and put it in the trunk of her car, and she carried out her wraps and some small articles to stow in the pockets of the car. Then, just as she came into the house, the telephone rang again.

  “Yes?” she answered eagerly.

  “Well, it’s all right, Laurel. The lawyer can’t go until the noon train on account of an appointment with a man from Chicago this morning, but he’ll come over on the noon train by himself. He wants me to go on this morning and get some papers from the Carrollton bank before it closes at noon and have everything ready for him so he can get done and catch the four thirty back to the city. So, if you really are ready to start soon, suppose you meet me down in front of the new post office at nine. That will give me time to do an errand and get everything in shape, and we’ll have plenty of time to talk on the way back. Okay?”

  “Okay!” said Laurel. “I’ll be there.”

  She hung up the receiver and, turning, saw her cousin coming into the dining room in a pretty robe and smiled good morning.

  “Oh, Laurel, my dear! So glad you’re back,” said the cousin. “I’m having some friends to dinner tonight, and I needed you so much I didn’t know what I was going to do without you.”

  “But I’m not back, Cousin Carolyn. I just ran in to get a few things I needed, and then I’m going on. I was about to write you a little note and say good-bye. I’m going back to Carrollton, and I’m not sure just how long I shall be gone. It depends on circumstances, but I shall stay for the weekend, anyway, and perhaps longer. I’ll let you know.”

  “Carrollton! Why, Laurel, that’s absurd! That little old dinky town! You’ll be missing so many worthwhile affairs. Did you have a lovely time at Adrian’s party last night? I was so sorry not to have been back to see you start off. I think it’s just ideal that Adrian is so attentive. I couldn’t have asked anything better for you. He is a darling! And that annual party of his at his hunt club is quite famous. I felt that your fortune was simply made when you got an invitation to that. Wasn’t it marvelous?”

  “Why, I didn’t go to the party, Carolyn. I had trouble with my car and couldn’t get it repaired till it was too late.”

  “You didn’t go! Why, how perfectly dreadful! How disastrous! Yes, that’s the right word, Laurel, disastrous! That party has been the talk of the social world ever since Adrian grew up. It’s always in the society column, and your name was listed among the guests. Why, how perfectly awful! couldn’t you come home on the train or a bus? And why on earth did you go way off on a day like that when you were invited to such an important party?”

  “Oh, I didn’t know it was especially important, Carolyn. I really didn’t think much about it. I called up of course and explained to him.”

  “But wasn’t he furious?”

  “Why, he said he was sorry of course. And I said I was sorry I couldn’t get there.”

  “But didn’t he offer to send someone after you?”

  “Oh yes, but I couldn’t let him go to all that trouble. In fact, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, anyway.”

  “You weren’t sure you wanted to go! When Adrian Faber is the most eligible young man in the city and you’ve got him really interested! You must be crazy! I declare you certainly are ungrateful. Here I offer you a home and all its advantages and introduce you to the best people, and you treat the cream of the lot that way! Run off where you couldn’t get back in time for the most interesting social event of the season. I’m sure I don’t see why I should put myself out for you any longer when you act like that.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Carolyn. I didn’t know you felt that way about this particular affair, or I would not have gone, of course. But you see, I didn’t realize that you cared so much. I know you have been most kind, and it was just because I wanted to arrange to relieve you of the burden of looking after me that I went away yesterday. I heard of a possible job, and I went to inquire about it. If I were permanently independent, earning my own living, I wouldn’t have to be such a burden on you. I could come and see you for a little visit now and then, but you wouldn’t feel so much responsibility for me. You’ve been sweet, I know, and I do appreciate what you’ve done—”

  “Now look here, Laurel, that’s ridiculous! The idea of your getting a job! What would your father and mother say to that, I’d like to know? And just when you’re probably in a position to marry one of the richest and most eligible men we know. How utterly absurd! What was the matter? Did Adrian and you have a quarrel? Did you make him upset with your ridiculous idea that you won’t drink? It’s very silly for you to start in and try to make him over before you’re sure of him. After you’re married, that’s all well enough, but I’m telling you, Adrian has a mind of his own, and you can’t make over a man of the world. Certainly not until you are sure you have a good hold on him!”

  “What on earth can you mean? I have no desire to have a hold on Adrian Faber, and I do not wish to marry him!” And suddenly as she spoke, Laurel knew that it was true! She did not wish to marry Adrian Faber. The knowledge came like a light in the dark and troubled sky of her mind, and she felt a sudden freedom, a great release from ideas that had been trying to get possession of her. Just since yesterday the horizon had cleared and she could read her future and know what she wanted it to be. Certainly what she did not want it to contain.

  But her cousin stood there and gazed at her as if she had suddenly lost her mind.

  “Are you crazy? Don’t you know he is fabulously wealthy? Don’t you know that if you married him you would never need to want for anything that you could not have?”

  Laurel turned a bright face toward her infuriated relative. “Except one thing, Cousin Carolyn.”

  “One thing. What do you mean?”

  “Happiness.” There was a clear conviction in Laurel’s tone.

  “Happiness! Why, you silly girl! Who wouldn’t be happy with all the money they wanted and a devoted husband to please your every whim?”

  “I wouldn’t, Cousin Carolyn! There’s something very essential that you have left out.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Love, Cousin Carolyn.”

  “Love! You poor blind little goose! Don’t you know that he loves the very ground you walk on? He simply worships you. I’ve watched him when he looks at you. It’s as plain as the nose on your face. He loves you with all his heart!”

  “Perhaps,” said Laurel serenely, “but you see, I don’t love him! And there can’t be any right kind of
a marriage without love on both sides!”

  “Fiddlesticks!” said Cousin Carolyn. “Who taught you a fallacy like that, I should like to know?”

  “My mother,” said Laurel steadily, looking straight into her cousin’s eyes.

  “Your mother!” gasped Cousin Carolyn. “Why, you weren’t old enough to talk about such things when she died. She couldn’t have talked that way to you when you were a mere child. And I’m dead certain she would never have meant to prejudice you against a promising marriage like this.”

  “Yes, she talked that way to me, Cousin Carolyn! She told me to remember that no marriage would be happy if there were not love on both sides. And I’m sure she would not have let wealth weigh in, in a matter like this. She said that money was not the greatest thing in the world.”

  “Oh yes? Well, that was easy enough for her to say. She always had plenty of money for any whim she chose to indulge. She never knew what it was like to scrimp and save in order to get a new evening dress or a mink coat. Your father was a rich man, Laurel, and you were brought up with expensive tastes. You’ve got to think of that when you come to picking out the man you want to marry, and you ought to be glad enough when you find a rich one who is ready to fall at your feet.”

  “I’m sorry, Cousin Carolyn, but I don’t agree with you, and I’m not trying to ‘pick out’ a man to marry. I’m not going around trying to ensnare anybody, as you suggest, nor to get a rich husband. When the right one comes and we love each other, if he’s a good man who has a right to marry me, that will be a different matter. But unless that happens, I’ll go free and unmarried and try to like it. That’s the philosophy my mother taught me. And now, Cousin Carolyn, I’m terribly sorry to disappoint you after all your kindness, but I’m going away, and you won’t need to worry about me anymore. I’m going among some of Mother’s old friends, people that my father trusted, and I’ll be perfectly safe.”

  “But you can’t just visit your mother’s old friends forever,” said the cousin with scornful eyes. “You’ll have to get married sometime, you know. And you may never find such a husband as Adrian.”