CHAPTER VI
THE CONSPIRACY
I'm not making any excuses. I did it for the best. In any sort of crisisthere are always folks who stand around and wring their hands and say,"What shall we do?" And then if it's a fire and somebody has had enoughsense to send for the engines, they say: "Just look at what the waterdid!" Although as far as I can see I'm the only one that suffered anydamage.
If Mr. Thoburn had not been there, sitting by to see the old sanatoriumdie so it could sprout wings and fly as a summer hotel, I'd never havethought of it. But I was in despair.
I got up and opened the door, but the Snow came in in a cloud, and thepath was half a foot deep again. It shows on what little threads bigthings hang, for when I saw the storm I gave up the idea of bringing Mr.Sam down to see the young man, and the breath of fresh air in my facebrought me to my senses.
But the angel of providence appeared in the shape of Mike, the bath man,coming down through the snow in a tearing rage. The instant I saw Mike Iknew it was settled.
"Am I or am I not to give Mr. Moody a needle shower?" he shouted, almostbeside himself. And I saw he had his overcoat over his bath costume,which is a Turkish towel.
"A needle shower followed by a salt rub," said I. "He's been having themfor eleven years. What's the matter?"
"That fool of a young doctor," shouted Mike, "he told him before he leftthat if he'd been taking them for eleven years and wasn't any betterit was time to stop. Ain't business bad enough--only four people in thehouse takin' baths regular--without his buttin' in!"
"Where's Mr. Moody?"
"In the bath. I've locked up his clothes."
"You give him a needle shower and a salt rub," I ordered, "and if hemakes a fuss just send for me. And, Mike," I said, as he started out,"ask Mr. Van Alstyne to come out here immediately."
That's the way it was all the time. Everybody brought their troubles tome, and I guess I thought I was a little tin god on wheels and the placecouldn't get along without me. But it did; it does. We all think we'llleave a big hole behind us when we go, but it's just like taking yourthumb out of a bowl of soup. There isn't even a dent.
Mr. Van Alstyne came out on the run, and when he saw Mr. Pierce by thefire--that was his name, Alan Pierce--he stopped and stared. Then hesaid:
"You infernal young scamp!" And with that Mr. Pierce jumped up,surprised and pretty mad, and Mr. Van Alstyne saw his mistake.
"I'm sure I beg your pardon!" he said. "The fact is, I was expectingsomebody else, and in the firelight--"
"You surprised me, that's all," said Mr. Pierce. "Under thecircumstances, I'm glad I'm not the other chap."
"You may be," assured Mr. Sam grimly. "You're not unlike him, by theway. A little taller and heavier, but--"
Now it's all very well for Mr. Sam to say I originated the idea and allthat, but as truly as I am writing this, as I watched his face I saw thesame thought come into it. He looked Mr. Pierce up and down, and then hestared into the fire and puckered his mouth to whistle, but he didn't.And finally he glanced at me, but I was looking into the fire, too.
"Just come, haven't you?" he asked. "How did you get up the hill?"
"Walked," said Mr. Pierce, smiling. "It took some digging, too. ButI didn't come for my health, unless you think three meals a day arenecessary for health."
Mr. Sam turned and stared at him. "By Jove! you don't mean it!"
"I wish I didn't," Mr. Pierce replied. "One of the hardest thingsI've had to remember for the last ten hours was that for two years Ivoluntarily ate only two meals a day. A man's a fool to do a thing likethat! It's reckless."
Mr. Sam got up and began to walk the floor, his hands in his pockets. Hetried to get my eye, but still I looked in the fire.
"All traffic's held up, Minnie," he said. "The eight o'clock train isstalled beyond the junction, in a drift. I've wired the conductor, andCarter isn't on it."
"Well?" said I.
"If we could only get past to-day," Mr. Sam went on; "if Thoburn wouldonly choke to death, or--if there was somebody around who looked likeDick. I dare say, by to-morrow--" He looked at Mr. Pierce, who smiledand looked at him.
"And I resemble Dick!" said Mr. Pierce. "Well, if he's a moral andupright young man--"
"He isn't!" Mr. Sam broke in savagely. And then and there he sat downand told Mr. Pierce the trouble we were in, and what sort of cheerfulidiot Dicky Carter was, and how everybody liked him, but wished he wouldgrow up before the family good name was gone, and that now he had achance to make good and be self-supporting, and he wasn't around, andif Mr. Sam ever got his hands on him he'd choke a little sense down histhroat.
And then Mr. Pierce told about the play and the mumps, and how he wasstranded. When Mr. Sam asked him outright if he'd take Mr. Dick's placeovernight he agreed at once.
"I haven't anything to lose," he said, "and anyhow I've been on a dietof Sweet Peas so long that a sanatorium is about what I need."
"It's like this," explained Mr. Sam, "Old Stitt is pretty thoroughlyjingled--excuse me, Minnie, but it's the fact. I'll take you to hisroom, with the lights low, and all you'll need to do is to shake handswith him. He's going on the early train to-morrow. Then you needn't mixaround much with the guests until to-morrow, and by that time I hope tohave Dick within thrashing distance."
Just as they'd got it arranged that Mr. Pierce was to put on Mr. Sam'sovercoat and walk down to the village so that he could come up in asleigh, as if he had driven over from Yorkton--he was only to walkacross the hall in front of the office, with his collar up, just enoughto show himself and then go to his room with a chill--just as it was allarranged, Mr. Sam thought of something.
"The house people are waiting for Dick," he said to me, "and about fortywomen are crocheting in the lobby, so they'll be sure to see him. Won'tsome of them know it isn't Dick?"
I thought pretty fast.
"He hasn't been around much lately," I said. "Nobody would know exceptMrs. Wiggins. She'll never forget him; the last time he was here he puton her false front like a beard and wore it down to dinner."
"Then it's all off," he groaned. "She's got as many eyes as a potato."
"And about as much sense," said I. "Fiddlesticks! She's not so good wecan't replace her, and what's the use of swallowing a camel and thensticking at a housekeeper?"
"You can't get her out of the house in an hour," he objected, but in aweak voice.
"I can!" I said firmly.
(I did. Inside of an hour she went to the clerk, Mr. Slocum, and handedin her resignation. She was a touchy person, but I did NOT say all thatwas quoted. I did NOT say the kitchen was filthy; I only said it tookaway my appetite to look in at the door. But she left, which is thepoint.)
Well, I stood in the doorway and watched them disappear in the darkness,and I felt better than I had all day. It's great to be able to DOsomething, even if that something is wrong. But as I put on my shawland turned out the lights, I suddenly remembered. Miss Patty would bewaiting in the lobby for Mr. Dick, and she would not be crocheting!
Where There's a Will Page 6
