THE VISION SPLENDID By William MacLeod Raine CHAPTER 1 Of all the remote streams of influence that pour both before and afterbirth into the channel of our being, what an insignificant few--andthese only the more obvious--are traceable at all. We swim in a sea ofenvironment and heredity, are tossed hither and thither by we know notwhat cross currents of Fate, are tugged at by a thousand eddies of whichwe never dream. The sum of it all makes Life, of which we know so littleand guess so much, into which we dive so surely in those buoyant daysbefore time and tide have shaken confidence in our power to snatchsuccess and happiness from its mysterious depths. --From the Note Book ofa Dreamer. A REBEL IN THE MAKING Part 1 The air was mellow with the warmth of the young spring sun. Locustswhirred in rhapsody. Bluebirds throbbed their love songs joyously. Thedrone of insects, the shimmer of hear, were in the atmosphere. One couldalmost see green things grow. To confine youth within four walls on sucha day was an outrage against human nature. A lean, wiry boy, hatchet-faced, stared with dreamy eyes out of thewindow of his prison. By raising himself in his seat while the teacherwas not looking he could catch a silvery gleam of the river through thegreat firs. His thoughts were far afield. They were not concerned withthe capitals of the States he was supposed to be learning, but had faredforth to the reborn earth, to the stir and movement of creeping things. The call of nature awakening from its long winter sleep drummed in hisheart. He could sympathize with the bluebottle buzzing against the sunnywindowpane in its efforts to reach the free world outside. Recess! With the sound of the gong his heart leaped, but he kept hisplace in the line with perfect decorum. It would never do to be calledback now for a momentary indiscretion. From the school yard he slippedthe back way and dived into a bank of great ferns. In the heart of thishe lay until the bell had called his classmates back to work. Cautiouslyhe crept from his hiding place and ran down to the river. Flinging himself on Big Rock, with his chin over the edge, he lookedinto the deep holes under the bank where the trout lay close to thestrings of shiny moss, their noses to the current, motionless save forthe fanning tails. Idly he enjoyed himself for a happy hour, letting thoughts happen asthey would. Not till the school bell rang for dismissal did he draghimself back with a sigh to the workaday world that called. He had alawn to mow and a back yard to clean up for Mr. Rawson. With his cap stuck on the back of his head and his hands in the pocketsof his patched trousers, the boy went whistling townward on his barefootway. At Adams Street he met the schoolchildren bound for home. A dozenboys from his own room closed in on him with shouts of joyous malice. "Played hookey! Played hookey! Jeff Farnum played hookey!" they shrilledat him. Ned Merrill assumed leadership of the young Apaches. "You're goin' tocatch it. Old Webber was down askin' for you. Wasn't he, Tom? Wasn't he, Dick?" Tom and Dick lied cheerfully to increase Jeff's dread. They addedgraphic details to help the story. The victim looked around with stoicism. He remembered the philosophy ofthe optimist that a licking does not last long. "Don't care if he was down, " the boy bluffed. "Huh! Mr. Don't Care! Mr. Don't Care!" shrieked Merrill gleefully. They made a circle around Jeff and mocked him. Once or twice a boldertormentor snatched at his cap or pushed a neighbor against him. Then, with the inconstancy of youth, they suddenly deserted him for morediverting game. A forlorn little Italian girl was trying to slip past on the other sideof the street. Someone caught sight of her and with a whoop the Apacheswere upon her pell-mell. She began to run, but they hemmed her in. Onetugged at her braided hair. Another flipped mud at her dress from theend of a stick. Merrill snatched her slate and made off with it. Jeff cut swiftly across the street. Merrill was coming directly towardhim, his head turned to the girl. Triumphant whoops broke from histhroat. He bumped into Jeff, stumbled, and went down in the mud. Young Merrill was up in an instant, clamorous for battle. His hands andclothes were plastered with filth. "I'm goin' to lick the stuffin' out of you, " he bellowed. Jeff said nothing. He was very white. His fingers worked nervously. "Yah! Yah! He's scared, " the mob jeered. Jeff was. In that circle of hostile faces he found no sympathy. He hadto stand up to the bully of the class, a boy who could have given himfifteen pounds. Looking around for help, he saw that none was at hand. The thin legs of the rescued Italian girl were flashing down the street. On the steps of the big house of P. C. Frome a six-year-old little onewas standing with her nurse. Nobody else was in sight except his cousin, James, and the Apaches. "You're goin' to get the maulin' of your life, " Ned Merrill promised ashe slipped out of his coat. "Webber'll lick you if he finds out you beenfightin', " James Farnum prophesied cheerfully to his cousin. He intendedto do his duty in the way of protest and then watch the fight. Ned worked his wiry little foe to the fence and pummeled him. Jeffducked and backed out of danger. Keeping to the defensive, he was beingbadly punished. Once he slipped in the mud and went down, but he was upagain before his slower antagonist could close with him. Blood streamedfrom his nose. His lip was gashed. Under the buffeting he was gettinghis head began to sing. "Punch him good, Ned, " one of the champion's friends advised. "You bet he is, " another chortled. Their jeers had an unexpected effect. Jeff's fears were blotted out byhis desperate need. Some spark of the fighting edge, inherited fromhis father, was fanned to a flame in the heart of the bruised littlewarrior. Like a tiger cat he leaped for Ned's throat, twisted his slimlegs round the sturdy ones of his enemy, and went down with him in aheap. Jeff landed on the bottom, but like an eel he squirmed to the top beforethe other had time to get set. The champion's patrician head was thumpeddown into the mud and a knobby little fist played a painful tattoo onhis mouth and cheek. "Take him off! Take him off!" Merrill shrieked after he had tried invain to roll away the incubus clamped like a vise to his body. His henchmen ran forward to obey. An unexpected intervention stoppedthem. A one-armed little man who had drifted down the street in time tosee part of the fracas pushed forward. "I reckon not just yet. Goliath's had a turn. Now David gets his. " "Lemme up, " sobbed Goliath furiously. "Say you're whopped. " Jeff's fist emphasized the suggestion. "Doggone you!" This kind of one-sided warfare did not suit Jeff. He made as if to getup, but his backer stopped him. "Hold on, son. You're not through yet. When you do a job do itthorough. " To the former champion he spoke. "Had plenty yet?" "I--I'll have him skinned, " came from the tearful champion with a burstof profanity. "That ain't the point. Have you had enough so you'll be good? Or do youneed some more?" "I'm goin' to tell Webber. " "Needs just a leetle more, son, " the one-armed man told Jeff, draggingat his goatee. But young Farnum had made up his mind. With a little twist of his bodyhe got to his feet. Merrill rose, tearful and sullen. "I--I'll fix you for this, " he gulped, and went sobbing toward the schoolhouse. "Better duck, " James whispered to his cousin. Jeff shook his head. The little man looked at the boy sharply. The eyes under his shaggybrows were like gimlets. "Come up to the school with me. I'll see your teacher, son. " Jeff walked beside him. He knew by the sound of the voice that hisrescuer was a Southerner and his heart warmed to him. He wanted greatlyto ask a question. Presently it plumped out. "Was it in the war, sir?" "I reckon I don't catch your meaning. " "That you lost your arm?" The boy added quickly, "My father was asoldier under General Early. " The steel-gray eyes shot at him again. "I was under Early myself. " "My father was a captain--Captain Farnum, " the young warrior announcedproudly. "Not Phil Farnum!" "Yes, sir. Did you know him?" Jeff trembled with eagerness. His deadsoldier-father was the idol of his heart. "Did I?" He swung Jeff round and looked at him. "You're like him, in away, and, by Gad! you fight like him. What's your name?" "Jefferson Davis Farnum. " "Shake hands, Jefferson Davis Farnum, you dashed little rebel. My nameis Lucius Chunn. I was a lieutenant in your father's company before Iwas promoted to one of my own. " Jeff forgot his troubles instantly. "I wish I'd been alive to go withfather to the war, " he cried. Captain Chunn was delighted. "You doggoned little rebel!" "I didn't know we used that word in the South' sir. " Chunn tugged at his goatee and laughed. "We're not in the South, David. " The former Confederate asked questions to piece out his patchworkinformation. He knew that Philip Farnum had come out of the war witha constitution weakened by the hardships of the service. Rumors haddrifted to him that the taste for liquor acquired in camp as an antidotefor sickness had grown upon his comrade and finally overcome him. FromJeff he learned that after his father's death the widow had sold hermortgaged place and moved to the Pacific Coast. She had invested thefew hundreds left her in some river-bottom lots at Verden and had laterdiscovered that an unscrupulous real estate dealer had unloaded upon herworthless property. The patched and threadbare clothes of the boy toldhim that from a worldly point of view the affairs of the Farnums were atebb tide. "Did. .. Did you know father very well?" Jeff asked tremulously. Chunn looked down at the thin dark face of the boy walking beside himand was moved to lay a hand on his shoulder. He understood the ache inthat little heart to hear about the father who was a hero to him. Jeffwas of no importance in the alien world about him. The Captain guessedfrom the little scene he had witnessed that the lad trod a friendless, stormy path. He divined, too, that the hungry soul was fed from withinby dreams and memories. So Lucius Chunn talked. He told about the slender, soldierly officer ingray who had given himself so freely to serve his men, of the time hehad caught pneumonia by lending his blanket to a sick boy, of the day hehad led the charge at Battle Creek and received the wound which painedhim so greatly to the hour of his death. And Jeff drank his words inlike a charmed thing. He visualized it all, the bitter nights in camp, the long wet marches, the trumpet call to battle. It was this last thathis imagination seized upon most eagerly. He saw the silent massingof troops, the stealthy advance through the woods; and he heard theblood-curdling rebel yell as the line swept forward from cover like atidal wave, with his father at its head. Captain Chunn was puzzled at the coldness with which Mr. Webber listenedto his explanation of what had taken place. The school principal fellback doggedly upon one fact. It would not have happened if Jeff had notbeen playing truant. Therefore he was to blame for what had occurred. Nothing would be done, of course, without a thorough investigation. The Captain was not satisfied, but he did not quite see what more hecould do. "The boy is a son of an old comrade of mine. We were in the wartogether. So of course I have to stand by Jeff, " he pleaded with asmile. "You were in the rebel army?" The words slipped out before theschoolmaster could stop them. "In the Confederate army, " Chunn corrected quietly. Webber flushed at the rebuke. "That is what I meant to say. " "I leave to-morrow for Alaska. It would be pleasant to know before I gothat Jeff is out of his trouble. " "I'm afraid Jeff always will be in trouble. He is a most insubordinateboy, " the principal answered coldly. "Are you sure you quite understand him?" "He is not difficult to understand. " Webber, resenting the interferenceof the Southerner as an intrusion, disposed of the matter in a sentence. "I'll look into this matter carefully, Mr. Chunn. " Webber called immediately at the office of Edward B. Merrill, presidentof the tramway company and of the First National Bank. It happened thatthe vice-president of the bank was a school director; also that thefunds of the district were kept in the First National. The schoolteacherdid not admit that he had come to ingratiate himself with the powersthat ruled his future, but he was naturally pleased to come in directtouch with such a man as Merrill. The financier was urbane and spent nearly half an hour of his valuabletime with the principal. When the latter rose to go they shook hands. The two understood each other thoroughly. "You may depend upon me to do my duty, Mr. Merrill, painful though sucha course may be to me. " "I am very glad to have met you, Mr. Webber. It is a source ofsatisfaction to me that our educational system is in the care of men ofyour stamp. I leave this matter with confidence entirely in your hands. Do what you think best. " His confidence was justified. After school opened next morning Jeff wascalled up and publicly thrashed for playing truant. As a prelude to thecorporal punishment the principal delivered a lecture. He alluded tothe details of the fight gravely, with selective discrimination, givingyoung Farnum to understand that he had reached the end of his rope. Ifany more such brutal affairs were reported to him he would be punishedseverely. The boy took the flogging in silence. He had learned to set his teethand take punishment without whimpering. From the hardest whipping Webberhad ever given he went to his seat with a white, set face that staredstraight in front of him. Young as he was, he knew it had not been fairand his outraged soul cried out at the injustice of it. The principalhad seized upon the truancy as an excuse to let him escape from aninvestigation of the cause of the fight. Ned Merrill got off because hisfather was a rich man and powerful in the city. He, Jeff, was whippedbecause he was an outcast and had dared lift his hand against one of hisbetters. And there was no redress. It was simply the way of the world. Jeff and his mother were down that afternoon to see their new friendoff in the _City of Skook. _ Captain Chunn found a chance to draw the boyaside for a question. "Is it all right with Mr. Webber? What did he do?" "Oh, he gave me a jawing, " the boy answered. The little man nodded. "I reckoned that was what he would do. Be agood boy, Jeff. I never knew a man more honorable than your father. Runstraight, son. " "Yes, sir, " the lad promised, a lump in his throat. It was more than ten years before he saw Captain Chunn again. Part 2 As an urchin Jeff had taken things as they came without understandingcauses. Thoughts had come to him in flashes, without any orderlysequence, often illogically. As a gangling boy he still took for grantedthe hard knocks of a world he did not attempt to synthesize. Even his mother looked upon him as "queer. " She worried plaintivelybecause he was so careless about his clothes and because his fondnessfor the outdoors sometimes led him to play truant. Constantly she setbefore him as a model his cousin, James, who was a good-looking boy, polite, always well dressed, with a shrewd idea of how to get alongeasily. "Why can't you be like Cousin James? He isn't always in trouble, " shewould urge in her tired way. It was quite true that the younger cousin was more of a general favoritethan harum-scarum Jeff, but the mother might as well have asked her boyto be like Socrates. It was not that he could not learn or that he didnot want to study. He simply did not fit into the school groove. Itsroutine of work and discipline, its tendency to stifle individuality, torun all children through the same hopper like grist through a mill, puta clamp upon his spirits and his imagination. Even thus early he was arebel. Jeff scrambled up through the grades in haphazard fashion until hereached the seventh. Here his teacher made a discovery. She was a fadedlittle woman of fifty, but she had that loving insight to which allchildren respond. Under her guidance for one year the boy blossomed. Hisodd literary fancy for Don Quixote, for Scott's poems and romancesshe encouraged, quietly eliminating the dime novels he had readindiscriminately with these. She broke through the shell of his shynessto find out that his diffidence was not sulkiness nor his independenceimpudence. The boy was a dreamer. He lived largely in a world of his own, whereQuentin Durward and Philip Farnum and Robert E. Lee were enshrined asheroes. From it he would emerge all hot for action, for adventure. Intohis games then he would throw a poetic imagination that transfiguredthem. Outwardly he lived merely in that boys' world made to his hand. He adopted its shibboleths, fought when he must, went through the annualroutine of marbles, tops, kites, hop scotch, and baseball. From hisfellows he guarded jealously the knowledge of even the existence of hissecret world of fancy. His progress through the grades and the high school was intermittent. Often he had to stop for months at a time to earn money for theirliving. In turn he was newsboy, bootblack, and messenger boy. He drove adelivery wagon for a grocer, ushered at a theater, was even a copyholderin the proofroom of a newspaper. Hard work kept him thin, but he waslike a lath for toughness. Seven weeks after he was graduated from the high school his motherdied. The day of the funeral a real estate dealer called to offer three, hundred dollars for the lots in the river bottom bought some yearsearlier by Mrs. Farnum. Jeff put the man off. It was too late now to do his mother any good. Shehad had to struggle to the last for the bread she ate. He wondered whythe good things in life were so unevenly distributed. Twice during the next week Jeff was approached with offers for his lots. The boy was no fool. He found out that the land was wanted by a new railroad pushing intoVerden. Within three days he had sold direct to the agent of the companyfor nine hundred dollars. With what he could earn on the side and in hissummers he thought that sum would take him through college. CHAPTER 2 I wonder if Morgan, the Pirate, When plunder had glutted his heart, Gave part of the junk from the ships he had sunk To help some Museum of Art; If he gave up the role of "collector of toll" And became a Collector of Art? I wonder if Genghis, the Butcher, When he'd trampled down nations like grass, Retired with his share when he'd lost all his hair And started a Sunday-school class; If he turned his past under and used half his plunder In running a Sunday-school class? I wonder if Roger, the Rover, When millions in looting he'd made, Built libraries grand on the jolly mainland To honor success and "free trade"; If he founded a college of nautical knowledge Where Pirates could study their trade? I wonder, I wonder, I wonder, If Pirates were ever the same, Ever trying to lend a respectable trend To the jaunty old buccaneer game Or is it because of our Piracy Laws That philanthropists enter the game? --Wallace Irwin, in Life. THE REBEL IS INSTRUCTED IN THE WORSHIP OF THE GOD-OF-THINGS-AS-THEY-ARE Part 1 Jeff was digging out a passage in the "Apology" when there came a knockat the door of his room. The visitor was his cousin, James, and heradiated such an air of prosperity that the plain little bedroom shrankto shabbiness. James nodded in offhand fashion as he took off his overcoat. "Hello, Jeff! Thought I'd look you up. Got settled in your diggings, eh?" Beforehis host could answer he rattled on: "Just ran in for a moment. Had thedevil of a time to find you. What's the object in getting clear off theearth?" "Cheaper, " Jeff explained. "Should think it would be, " James agreed after he had let his eyeswander critically around the room. "But you can't afford to save thatway. Get a good suite. And for heaven's sake see a tailor, my boy. Incollege a man is judged by the company he keeps. " "What have my room and my clothes to do with that?" Jeff wanted to know, with a smile. "Everything. You've got to put up a good front. The best fellows won'tgo around with a longhaired guy who doesn't know how to dress. Nooffense, Jeff. " His cousin laughed. "I'll see a barber to-morrow. " "And you must have a room where the fellows can come to see you. " "What's the matter with this one?" A hint of friendly patronage crept into the manner of the junior. "Mydear chap, college isn't worth doing at all unless you do it right. You're here to get in with the best fellows and to make connections thatwill help you later. That sort of thing, you know. " Into Jeff's face came the light that always transfigured its plainnesswhen he was in the grip of an idea. "Hold on, J. K. Let's get at thisright. Is that what I'm here for? I didn't know it. There's a hazynotion in my noodle that I'm here to develop myself. " "That's what I'm telling you. Go in for the things that count. Make agood frat. Win out at football or debating. I don't give a hang what yougo after, but follow the ball and keep on the jump. I'm strong with thecrowd that runs things and I'll see they take you in and make you a cogof the machine. But you'll have to measure up to specifications. " "But, hang it, I don't want to be a cog in any machine. I'm here togive myself a chance to grow--sit out in the sun and hatch anindividuality--give myself lots of free play. " "Then you've come to the wrong shop, " James informed him dryly. "If youwant to succeed at college you've got to do the things the other fellowsdo and you've got to do them the same way. " "You mean I've got to travel in a rut?" "Oh, well! That's a way of putting it. I mean that you have to acceptcustoms and traditions. You have to work like the devil doing thingsthat count. If you make the team you've got to think football, talk it, eat it, dream it. " "But is it worth while?" James waved his protest aside. "Of course it's worth while. Successalways is. Get this in your head. Four-fifths of the fellows at collegedon't count. They're also-rans. To get in with the right bunch you'vegot to make a good showing. Look at me. I'm no John D. Rockefeller, Jr. Athletics bore me. I can't sing. I don't grind. But I'm in everything. Best frat. Won the oratorical contest. Manager of the football team nextseason. President of the Dramatic Club. Why?" He did not wait for Jeff to guess the reason. "Because our set runsthings and I go after the honors. " "But a college ought to be a democracy, " Jeff protested. "Tommyrot! It's an aristocracy, that's what it is, just like the littleold world outside, an aristocracy of the survival of the fittest. Youget there if you're strong. You go to the wall if you're weak. That'sthe law of life. " The freshman came to this squint of pragmatism with surprise. He hadthought of Verden University as a splendid democracy of intellectualbrotherhood that was to leaven the world with which it came in touch. "Do you mean that a fellow has to have money enough to make a goodshowing before he can win any of the prizes?" James K. Nodded with the sage wisdom of a man of the world. "The longgreen is a big help, but you've got to have the stuff in you. Successcomes to the fellow who goes after it in the right way. " "And suppose a fellow doesn't care to go after it?" "He stays a nobody. " James was in evening dress, immaculate from clean-shaven cheek to patentleather shoes. He had a well-filled figure and a handsome face witha square, clean-cut jaw. His cousin admired the young fellow's virilecompetency. It was his opinion that James K. Farnum was the last personhe knew likely to remain a nobody. He knew how to conform, to take thecolor of his thinking from the dominant note of his environment, but hehad, too, a capacity for leadership. "I'm not going to believe you if I can help it, " Jeff answered with asmile. The upper classman shrugged. "You'd better take my advice, just thesame. At college you don't get a chance to make two starts. You're sizedup from the crack of the pistol. " "I haven't the money to make a splurge even if I wanted to. " "Borrow. " "Who from?" asked Jeff ungrammatically. "You can rustle it somewhere. I'm borrowing right now. " "It's different with you. I'm used to doing without things. Don't worryabout me. I'll get along. " James came with a touch of embarrassment to the real object of hisvisit. "I say, Jeff. I've had a tough time to win out. You won't--you'llnot say anything--let anything slip, you know--something that might setthe fellows guessing. " His cousin was puzzled. "About what?" "About the reason why Mother and I left Shelby and came out to thecoast. " "What do you take me for?" "I knew you wouldn't. Thought I'd mention it for fear you might make aslip. " "I don't chatter about the private affairs of my people. " "Course not. I knew you didn't. " The junior's hand rested caressinglyon the shoulder of the other. "Don't get sore, Jeff. I didn't doubt you. But that thing haunts me. Some day it will come out and ruin me when I'mnear the top of the ladder. " The freshman shook his head. "Don't worry about it, James. Just tellthe plain truth if it comes out. A thing like that can't hurt youpermanently. Nothing can really injure you that does not come from yourown weakness. " "That's all poppycock, " James interrupted fretfully. "Just that sort ofthing has put many a man on the skids. I tell you a young fellow needsto start unhampered. If the fellows got onto it that my father had beenin the pen because he was a defaulting bank cashier they would drop melike a hot potato. " "None but the snobs would. Your friends would stick the closer. " "Oh' friends!" The young man's voice had a note of angry derision. Jeff's affectionate grin comforted him. "Don't let it get on yournerves, J. K. Things never are as bad as we expect at their worst. " The junior set his teeth savagely. "I tell you, sometimes I hate himfor it. That's a fine heritage for a father to give his son, isn't it?Nothing but trouble and disgrace. " His cousin spoke softly. "He's paid a hundred times for it, old man. " "He ought to pay. Why shouldn't he? I've got to pay. Mother had to aslong as she lived. " His voice was hard and bitter. "Better not judge him. You're his only son, you know. " "I'm the one he's injured most. Why shouldn't I judge him? I've been apauper all these years, living off money given us by my mother's people. I had to leave our home because of what he did. I'd like to know why Ishouldn't judge him. " Jeff was silent. Presently James rose. "But there's no use talking about it. I've got tobe going. We have an eat to-night at Tucker's. " Part 2 Jeff came to his new life on the full tide of an enthusiasm that did notbegin to ebb till near the close of his first semester. He lived in anew world, one removed a million miles from the sordid one through whichhe had fought his way so many years. All the idealism of his nature wentout in awe and veneration for his college. It stood for something hecould not phrase, something spiritually fine and intellectually strong. When he thought of the noble motto of the university, "To Serve, " it wasalways with a lifted emotion that was half a prayer. His professors wentclothed in majesty. The chancellor was of godlike dimensions. Even theseniors carried with them an impalpable aura of learning. The illusion was helped by reason of the very contrast between thejostling competition of the street and the academic air of harmony inwhich he now found himself. For the first time was lifted the sense ofstruggle that had always been with him. The outstanding notes of his boyhood had been poverty and meagerness. It was as if he and his neighbors had been flung into a lake wherethey must keep swimming to escape drowning. There had been no rest fromlabor. Sometimes the tragedy of disaster had swept over a family. Buton the campus of the university he found the sheltered life. The echo ofthat battling world came to him only faintly. He began to make tentative friendships, but in spite of the advice ofhis cousin they were with the men who did not count. Samuel Miller wasan example. He was a big, stodgy fellow with a slow mind which arrivedat its convictions deliberately. But when he had made sure of them hehung to his beliefs like a bulldog to a bone. It was this quality that one day brought them together in the classroom. An instructor tried to drive Miller into admitting he was wrong in anopinion. The boy refused to budge, and the teacher became nettled. "Mr. Miller will know more when he doesn't know so much, " the instructorsnapped out. Jeff's instinct for fair play was roused at once, all the more becauseof the ripple of laughter that came from the class. He spoke up quietly. "I can't see yet but that Mr. Miller is right, sir. " "The discussion is closed, " was the tart retort. After class the dissenters walked across to chapel together. "Poke the animal up with a stick and hear him growl, " Jeff laughedairily. "Page always thinks a fellow ought to take his say-so as gospel, " Millercommented. Most of the students saw in Jeff Farnum only a tallish young man, thinas a rail, not particularly well dressed, negligent as to collar andtie. But Miller observed in the tanned face a tender, humorous mouth andeager, friendly eyes that looked out upon the world with a suggestionof inner mirth. In course of time he found out that his friend was anunconquerable idealist. Jeff made discoveries. One of them was a quality of brutal indifferencein some of his classmates to those less fortunate. These classy younggentlemen could ignore him as easily as a hurrying business man can anewsboy trying to sell him a paper. If he was forced upon their noticethey were perfectly courteous; otherwise he was not on the map for them. Another point that did not escape his attention was the way in which theinstitution catered to Merrill and Frome, because they were large donorsto the university. He had once heard Peter C. Frome say in a speech tothe students that he contributed to the support of Verden Universitybecause it was a "safe and conservative citadel which never had yieldedto demagogic assaults. " At the time he had wondered just what thepresident of the Verden Union Water Company had meant. He was slowlypuzzling his way to an answer. Chancellor Bland referred often to the "largehearted Christian gentlemenwho gave of their substance to promote the moral and educational life ofthe state. " But Jeff knew that many believed Frome and Merrill to be nobetter than robbers on a large scale. He knew the methods by which theyhad gained their franchises and that they ruled the politics of the cityby graft and corruption. Yet the chancellor was always ready to speakor write against municipal ownership. It was common talk on the streetsthat Professor Perkins, of the chair of political science, had had hisexpenses paid to England by Merrill to study the street railwaysystem of Great Britain, and that Perkins had duly written severalbread-and-butter articles to show that public ownership was unsuccessfulthere. The college was a denominational one and the atmosphere wholly orthodox. Doubt and skepticism were spoken of only with horror. At first it was ofhimself that Jeff was critical. The spirit of the place was opposed toall his convictions, but he felt that perhaps his reaction upon life hadbeen affected too much by his experiences. He asked questions, and was suppressed with severity or kindly paternaladvice. It came to him one night while he was walking bareheaded underthe stars that there was in the place no intellectual stimulus, thoughthere was an elaborate presence of it. The classrooms were arid. Everywhere fences were up beyond which the mind was not expected totravel. A thing was right, because it had come to be accepted. That wasthe gospel of his fellows, of his teachers. Later he learned that it isalso the creed of the world. What Jeff could not understand was a mind which refused to accept theinevitable conclusions to which its own processes pushed it. VerdenUniversity lacked the courage which comes from intellectual honesty. Wherefore its economics were devitalized and its theology ananachronism. But Jeff had been given a mind unable to lie to itself. He was in veryessence a non-conformist. To him age alone did not lend sanctity to theghosts of dead yesterdays that rule to-day. CHAPTER 3 "Whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist. He who would gather immortal palms must not be hindered by the name of goodness, but must explore if it be goodness. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind, "--Emerson. CONVERSING ON RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY, THE REBEL LEARNS THAT IT ISSOMETIMES WISE TO SOFT PEDAL IDEAS UNLESS THEY ARE ACCEPTED ONES During his freshman year Jeff saw little of his cousin beyond the usualcampus greetings, except for a period of six weeks when the juniorhappened to need him. But the career of James K. Tickled immenselythe under classman's sense of humor. He was becoming the most dazzlingsuccess ever developed by the college. Even with the faculty he stoodhigh, for if he lacked scholarship he had the more showy gifts that wentfarther. He knew when to defer and when to ride roughshod to his end. It was felt that his brilliancy had a solidity back of it, a quality offlintiness that would endure. James was inordinately ambitious and loved the spotlight like anactor. The flamboyant oratory at which he excelled had won for him theinterstate contest. He was editor-in-chief of the "Verdenian, " managerof the varsity football team, and president of the college senate. With the beginning of his senior year James entered another phase of hisdevelopment. He offered to the college a new, or at least an enlarged, interpretation of himself. Some of his smiling good-fellowship had beensloughed to make way for the benignity of a budding statesman. He stillheld a tolerant attitude to the antics of his friends, but it was easyto see that he had put away childish things. To his many young womenadmirers he talked confidentially of his aims and aspirations. Thefuture of James K. Farnum was a topic he never exhausted. It was, too, a subject which greatly interested Jeff and Sam Miller. His cousin might smile at his poses, and often did, but he never deniedJames qualities likely to carry him far. "His one best bet is his belief in himself, " Sam announced one night. "It's a great thing to believe in yourself. " "He's so dead sure he's cast for a big part. The egoism just oozes outof him. He doesn't know himself that he's a faker. " "He is a long way from that, " Jeff protested warmly. "Take his oratory, " Miller went on irritably. "It's all bunk. He throwsa chest and makes you feel he's a big man, but what he says won't standanalysis--just a lot of platitudes. " "Don't forget he's young yet. James K. Hasn't found himself. " "Sure there's anything to find?" "There's a lot in him. He's the biggest man in the university to-day. " "You practically wrote the oration that won the interstate contest. Think I don't know that?" Miller snorted. Jeff's mouth took on a humorous twist. "I gave him some suggestions. Howdid you know?" "Knew he wasn't hanging around last term for nothing. He's selfish asthe devil. " "You're all wrong about him, Sam. He isn't selfish at all at bottom. " "Shoot the brains out of that oration and what's left would be thepart he supplied. The fellow's got a gift of absorbing new ideassuperficially and dressing them up smartly. " "Then he's got us beat there, " Jeff laughed goodnaturedly. He had notin his make-up a grain of envy. Even his laughter was generally genial, though often irreverent to the God-of-things-as-they-are. "When he won the interstate he lapped up flattery like a thirsty pup, but his bluff was that it was only for the college he cared to win. " "Most of us have mixed motives. " "Not J. K. Reminds me of old Johnson's 'Patriotism is the last refuge ofa scoundrel. '" Jeff straightened. "That won't do, Sam. I believe in J. K. You've gotnothing against him except that you don't like him. " "Forgot you were his cousin, Jeff, " Miller grumbled. "But it's a factthat he works everybody to shove him along. " "He's only a kid. Give him time. He'll be a big help to any community. " "James K. 's biggest achievement will always be James K. " Jeff chuckled at the apothegm even while he protested. Sam capped itwith another. "He's always sitting to himself for his own portrait. " "He'll get over that when he brushes up against the world. " Jeff addedhis own criticism thoughtfully. "The weak spot in him is a sort offlatness of mind. This makes him afraid of new ideas. He wants to berespectable, and respectability is the most damning thing on earth. " After Miller had left Jeff buckled down to Ely's "Political Economy. "He had not been at it long when James surprised him by dropping in. Hishost offered the easiest chair and shoved tobacco toward him. "Been pretty busy with the team, I suppose?" Jeff suggested. "It's taken a lot of my time, but I think I've put the athleticassociation on a paying basis at last. " "I see by your report in the 'Verdenian' that you made good. " "A fellow ought to do well whatever he undertakes to do. " Jeff grinned across at him from where he lay on the bed with his fingerslaced beneath his head. "That's what the copybooks used to say. " "I want to have a serious talk with you, Jeff. " "Aren't you having it? What can be more important than the successes ofJames K. Farnum?" The senior looked at him suspiciously. He was not strongly fortifiedwith a sense of humor. "Just now I want to talk about the failures ofJefferson D. Farnum, " he answered gravely. Jeff's eyes twinkled. "Is it worth while? I am unworthy of this boon, Ogreat Cesar. " "Now that's the sort of thing that stands in your way, " James told himimpatiently. "People never know when you're laughing at them. Thereis no reason why you shouldn't succeed. Your abilities are up to theaverage, but you fritter them away. " "Thank you. " Jeff wore an air of being immensely pleased. "The truth is that you're your own worst enemy. Now that you have takento dressing better you are not bad looking. I find a good many of thefellows like you--or they would if you'd let them. " "Because I'm so well connected, " Jeff laughed. "I suppose it does help, your being my cousin. But the thing depends onyou. Unless you make a decided change you'll never get on. " "What change do you suggest? Item one, please?" James looked straight at him. "You lack bedrock principles, Jeff. " "Do I?" "Take your habits. Two or three times you've been seen coming out ofsaloons. " "Expect I went in to get a drink. " "It's not generally known, of course, but if it reached Prexy he'd fireyou so quick your head would swim. " "I dare say. " The senior looked at him significantly. "You're the last man that oughtto go to such places. There's such a thing as an inherited tendency. " The jaw muscles stood out like ropes under the flesh of Jeff's leanface. "We'll not discuss that. " "Very well. Cut it out. A drinking man is handicapped too heavily towin. " "Much obliged. Second count in the indictment, please. " "You've got strange, unsettling notions. The profs don't like them. " "Don't they?" "You know what I mean. We didn't make this world. We've got to takeit as it is. You can't make it over. There are always going to be richpeople and poor ones. Just because you've fed indigestibly on Ibsen andShaw you can't change facts. " "So you advise?" "Soft pedal your ideas if you must have them. " "Hasn't a man got to see things as straight as he can?" "That's no reason for calling in the neighbors to rejoice with himbecause he has astigmatism. " Jeff came back with a tag of Emerson, whose phrases James was fond ofquoting in his speeches. "Whoso would be a man must be a non-conformist. Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind. " "You can push that too far. It isn't practical. We've got to makecompromises, especially with established things. " Jeff sat up on the bed. Points of light were dancing in his big eyes. "That's what the Pharisees said to Jesus when he wouldn't stand for liesbecause they were deep rooted and for injustice because it had becomerespectable. " "Oh, if you're going to compare yourself to Christ--" "Verden University is supposed to stand for Christianity, isn't it?It was because Jesus whanged away at social and industrial freedom, atfraternity, at love on earth, that he had to endure the Cross. He gotunder the upper class skin when he attacked the traditional lies ofvested interests. Now why doesn't Bland preach the things that Jesustaught?" "He does. " "Yes, he does, " Jeff scoffed. "He preaches good form, respectability, a narrow personal righteousness, a salvation canned and petrified threehundred years ago. " "Do you want him to preach socialism?" "I want him to preach the square deal in our social life, intellectualhonesty, and a vital spiritual life. Think of what this college mightmean, how it might stand for democracy It ought to pour out into thestate hundreds of specialists on the problems of the country. Instead, it is only a reflection of the caste system that is growing up inAmerica. " James shrugged his broad shoulders. "I've been through all that. It'sa phase we pass. You'll get over it. You've got to if you are going tosucceed. " A quizzical grin wrinkled Jeff's lean face. "What is success?" "It's setting a high goal and reaching it. It's taking the world by thethroat and shaking from it whatever you want. " James leaned across thetable, his eyes shining. "It's the journey's end for the strong, that'swhat it is. I don't care whether a man is gathering gilt or fame, he'sgot to pound away with his eye right on it. And he's got to trample downthe things that get in his way. " Jeff's eye fell upon a book on the table. "Ever hear of a chap calledGoldsmith?" "Of course. He wrote 'The School for Scandal. ' What's he got to do withit?" Jeff smiled, without correcting his cousin. "I've been reading abouthim. Seems to have been a poor hack writer 'who threw away his life inhandfuls. ' He wrote the finest poem, the best novel, the most charmingcomedy of his day. He knew how to give, but he didn't know how to take. So he died alone in a garret. He was a failure. " "Probably his own fault. " "And on the day of his funeral the stairway was crowded with poor peoplehe had helped. All of them were in tears. " "What good did that do him? He was inefficient. He might have saved hismoney and helped them then. " "Perhaps. I don't know. It might have been too late then. He chose togive his life as he was living it. " "Another reason for his poverty, wasn't there?" Jeff flushed. "He drank. " "Thought so. " James rose triumphantly and put on his overcoat. "Well, think over what I've said. " "I will. And tell the chancellor I'm much obliged to him for sendingyou. " For once the Senior was taken aback. "Eh, what--what?" "You may tell him it won't be your fault that I'll never be a credit toVerden University. " As he walked across the campus to his fraternity house James did notfeel that his call had been wholly successful. With him he carried apicture of his cousin's thin satiric face in which big expressive eyesmocked his arguments. But he let none of this sense of futility get intothe report given next day to the Chancellor. "Jeff's rather light-minded, I'm afraid, sir. He wanted to branch offto side lines. But I insisted on a serious talk. Before I left him hepromised to think over what I had said. " "Let us hope he may. " "He said it wouldn't be my fault if he wasn't a credit to theUniversity. " "We can all agree with him there, Farnum. " "Thank you, sir. I'm not very hopeful about him. He has other things tocontend with. " "I'm not sure I quite know what you mean. " "I can't explain more fully without violating a confidence. " "Well, we'll hope for the best, and remember him in our prayers. " "Yes, sir, " James agreed. CHAPTER 4 "I met a hundred men on the road to Delhi, and they were all my brothers. "--Old Proverb. THE REBEL FLUNKS IN A COURSE ON HOW TO GET ON IN LIFE Part 1 It would be easy to overemphasize Jeff's intellectual difficulties atthe expense of the deep delight he found in many phases of his studentlife. The daily routine of the library, the tennis courts, and the jollytable talk brought out the boy in him that had been submerged. There developed in him a vagabond streak that took him into the woodsand the hills for days at a time. About the middle of his Sophomore yearhe discovered Whitman. While camping alone at night under the stars heused to shout out, "Strong and content, I travel the open road, " or "Allons! The road is before us! "It is safe--I have tried it--my own feet have tried it well. " Through Stevenson's essay on Whitman Jeff came to know the Scotchwriter, and from the first paragraph of him was a sealed follower of R. L. S. In different ways both of these poets ministered to a certain loveof freedom, of beauty, of outdoor spaces that was ineradicably a part ofhis nature. The essence of vagabondage is the spirit of romance. One maytour every corner of the earth and still be a respectable Pharisee. Onemay never move a dozen miles from the village of his birth and yet beof the happy company of romantics. Jeff could find in a sunset, ina stretch of windswept plain, in the sight of water through leaflesstrees, something that filled his heart with emotion. Perhaps the very freedom of these vacation excursions helped to feed hisgrowing discontent. The yeast of rebellion was forever stirring inhim. He wanted to come to life with open mind. He was possessed of aninsatiable curiosity about it. This took him to the slums of Verden, tothe redlight district, to Socialist meetings, to a striking coal campnear the city where he narrowly escaped being killed as a scab. He knewthat something was wrong with our social life. Inextricably blended withsuccess and happiness he saw everywhere pain, defeat, and confusion. Whymust such things be? Why poverty at all? But when he flung his questions at Pearson, who had charge of the workin sociology, the explanations of the professor seemed to him pitifullyweak. In the ethics class he met the same experience. A chance reference toDrummond's "Natural Law in the Spiritual world" introduced him to thatstimulating book. All one night he sat up and read it--drank it in withevery fiber of his thirsty being. The fire in his stove went out. He slipped into his overcoat. Graymorning found him still reading. He walked out with dazed eyes intoa world that had been baptized anew during the night to a miraculousrebirth. But when he took his discovery to the lecture room Dawson was not onlycold but hostile. Drummond was not sound. There was about him a speciouscharm very likely to attract young minds. Better let such books alonefor the present. In the meantime the class would take up with him thediscussion of predeterminism as outlined in Tuesday's work. There were members of the faculty big enough to have understood the boyand tolerant enough to have sympathized with his crude revolt, but Jeffwas diffident and never came in touch with them. His connection with the college ended abruptly during the Spring term ofhis Sophomore year. A celebrated revivalist was imported to quicken the spiritual lifeof the University. Under his exhortations the institution underwent areligious ferment. An extraordinary excitement was astir on the campus. Class prayer meetings were held every afternoon, and at midday smallergroups met for devotional exercises. At these latter those who had madeno profession of religion were petitioned for by name. James Farnum wasswept into the movement and distinguished himself by his zeal. It wasunderstood that he desired the prayers of friends for that relative whohad not yet cast away the burden of his sins. It became a point of honor with his cousin's circle to win Jeff for thecause. There was no difficulty in getting him to attend the meetings ofthe revivalist. But he sat motionless through the emotional climax thatbrought to an end each meeting. To him it seemed that this was not inany vital sense religion, but he was careful not to suggest his feelingby so much as a word. One or two of his companions invited him to come to Jesus. Hedisconcerted them by showing an unexpected familiarity with theScriptures as a weapon of offense against them. James invited him to his rooms and labored with him. Jeff resorted tothe Socratic method. From what sins was he to be saved? And when wouldhe know he had found salvation? His cousin uneasily explained the formula. "You must believe in Christand Him crucified. You must surrender your will to His. Shall we praytogether?" "I'd rather not, J. K. First, I want to get some points clear. Do youmean that I'm to believe in what Jesus said and to try to live as hesuggested?" "Yes. " Jeff picked up his cousin's Bible and read a passage. "'We know that wehave passed from death unto life, BECAUSE WE LOVE THE BRETHREN. He thatloveth not his brother abideth in death. ' That's the test, isn't it?" "Well, you have to be converted, " James said dubiously. "Isn't that conversion--loving your brother? And if a man is willingto live in plenty while his brother is in poverty, if he exploits thoseweaker than himself to help him get along, then he can't be reallyconverted, can he?" "Now see here, Jeff, you've got the wrong idea. Christ didn't come intothe world to reform it, but to save it from its sins. He wasn't merely aman, but the Divine Son of God. " "I don't understand the dual nature of Jesus. But when one reads Hislife it is easy to believe in His divinity. " After a moment the youngman added: "In one way we're all divine sons of God, aren't we?" James was shocked. "Where do you get such notions? None of our peoplewere infidels. " "Am I one?" "You ought to take advantage of this chance. It's not right to set youropinion up against those that know better. " "And that's what I'm doing, isn't it?" Jeff smiled. "Can't help it. Ireckon I can't be saved by my emotions. It's going to be a life job. " James gave him up, but he sent another Senior to make a last attempt. The young man was Thurston Thomas and he had never exchanged sixsentences with Jeff in his life. The unrepentant sinner sent him to theright about sharply. "What the devil do you mean by running about officiously and botheringabout other people's souls? Better look out for your own. " Thomas, a scion of one of the best families in Verden, looked as if hehad been slapped in the face. "Why Farnum, I--I spoke for your good. " "No, you didn't, " contradicted Jeff flatly. "You don't care a hang aboutme. You've never noticed me before. We're not friends. You've alwaysdisliked me. But you want the credit of bringing me into the fold. It'sdamned impertinent of you. " The Senior retired with a white face. He was furious, but he thought itdue himself to turn the other cheek by saying nothing. He reported hisversion to a circle of friends, and from them it spread like grass seedin the wind. Soon it was generally known that Jeff Farnum had grosslyinsulted with blasphemy a man who had tried to save his soul. Two days later Miller met Jeff at the door of Frome 15. "You're in bad! Jeff. What the deuce did you do to Sissy Thomas?" "Gave him some good advice. " Miller grinned. "I'll bet you did. The little cad has been poisoning thewells against you. Look there. " A young woman of their class had passed into the room. Her glance hadfallen upon Farnum and been quickly averted. "That's the first time Bessie Vroom ever cut you, " Sam continuedangrily. "Thomas is responsible. I've heard the story a dozen timesalready. " "I only told him to mind his own business. " "He can't. He's a born meddler. Now he's queered you with the wholeplace. " "Can't help it. I wasn't going to let him get away with his impudence. Why should I?" Miller shrugged. "Policy, my boy. Better take the advice of Cousin Jamesand crawl into your shell till the storm has pelted past. " Half an hour later Jeff met his cousin near the chapel and was taken totask. "What's this I hear about your insulting Thomas?" "You have it wrong. He insulted me, " Jeff corrected with a smile. "Tommyrot! Why couldn't you treat him right?" "Didn't like to throw him through the window on account of littering upthe lawn with broken glass. " James K. 's handsome square-cut face did not relax to a smile. "You maythink this a joke, but I don't. I've heard the Chancellor is going tocall you on the carpet. " "If he does he'll learn what I think. " The upper classman's anger boiled over. "You might think of me alittle. " "Didn't know you were in this, J. K. " "They know I'm your cousin. It's hurting my reputation. " A faint ironic smile touched Jeff's face. "No, James, I'm helping it. Ever notice how blondes and brunettes chum together. Value of contrasts, you see. I'm a moral brunette. You're a shining example of all a manshould be. I simply emphasize your greatness. " "That's not the way it works, " his cousin grumbled. "That's just how it works. Best thing that could happen to you would befor me to get expelled. Shall I?" Jeff offered his suggestion debonairly. "Of course not. " "It would give you just the touch of halo you need to finish thepicture. Think of it: your noble head bowed in grief because of theunworthy relative you had labored so hard to save; the sympathy of thefaculty, the respect of the fellows, the shy adoration of the co-eds. Great Brutus bowed by the sorrow of a strong man's unrepining emotion. By Jove, I ought to give you the chance. You'd look the part toadmiration. " For a moment James saw himself in the role and coveted it. Jeff read histhought, and his laughter brought his cousin back to earth. He had theirritated sense of having been caught. "It's not an occasion for talking nonsense, " he said coldly. Jeff sensed his disgrace in the stiff politeness of the professors andin the embarrassed aloofness of his classmates. Some of the men franklygave him a wide berth as if he had been a moral pervert. His temperament was sensitive to slights and he fell into one of hisrare depressions. One afternoon he took the car for the city. He wantedto get away from himself and from his environment. A chill mist was in the air. Drawn by the bright lights, Jeff entereda saloon and sat down in an alcove with his arms on the table. Why didthey hammer him so because he told the truth as he saw it? Why must hetoady to the ideas of Bland as everybody else at the University seemedto do? He was not respectable enough for them. That was the trouble. They were pushing him back into the gutter whence he had emerged. Wildfragmentary thoughts chased themselves across the record of his brain. Almost before he knew it he had ordered and drunk a highball. Immediately his horizon lightened. With the second glass his depressionvanished. He felt equal to anything. It was past nine o'clock when he took the University car. As chance hadit Professor Perkins and he were the only passengers. The teacher ofEconomics bowed to the flushed youth and buried himself in a book. Itwas not till they both rose to leave at the University station that henoticed the condition of Farnum. Even then he stood in momentary doubt. With a maudlin laugh Jeff quieted any possible explanation of sickness. "Been havin' little spree down town, Profeshor. Good deal like oneev'body been havin' out here. Yours shpiritual; mine shpirituous. Joke, see! Play on wor'd. Shpiritual--shpirituous. " "You're intoxicated, sir, " Perkin's told him sternly. "Betcherlife I am, old cock! Ever get shp--shp--shpiflicated yourself?" "Go home and go to bed, sir!" "Whaffor? 'S early yet. 'S reasonable man I ask whaffor?" The professor turned away, but Jeff caught at his sleeve. "Lesh not go to bed. Lesh talk economicsh. " "Release me at once, sir. " "Jush's you shay. Shancellor wants see me. I'll go now. " He did. What occurred at that interview had better be omitted. Jeff wasvery cordial and friendly, ready to make up any differences there mightbe between them. An ice statue would have been warm compared to theChancellor. Next day Jeff was publicly expelled. At the time it did not trouble himin the least. He had brought a bottle home with him from town, and whenthe notice was posted he lay among the bushes in a sodden sleep half amile from the campus. Part 2 From a great distance there seemed to come to Jeff vaguely the soundof young rippling laughter and eager girlish voices. Drawn from heavysleep, he was not yet fully awake. This merriment might be the musicof fairy bells, such stuff as dreams are made of. He lay incurious, drowsiness still heavy on his eyelids. "Oh, Virgie, here's another bunch! Oh, girls, fields of them!" There was a little rush to the place, and with it a rustle of skirtsthat sounded authentic. Jeff began to believe that his nymphs were notborn of fancy. He opened his eyes languidly to examine a strange worldupon which he had not yet focused his mind. Out of the ferns a dryad was coming toward him, lance straight, slender, buoyantly youthful in the light tread and in the poise of the goldenhead. At sight of him she paused, held in her tracks, eyes grown big withsolicitude. "You are ill. " Before he could answer she had dropped the anemones she carried, was onher knees beside him, and had his head cushioned against her arm. "Tell me! What can I do for you? What is the matter?" Jeff groaned. His head was aching as if it would blow up, but thatwas not the cause of the wave of pain which had swept over him. Arealization had come to him of what was the matter with him. His eyesfell from hers. He made as if to get up, but her hand restrained himwith a gentle firmness. "Don't! You mustn't. " Then aloud, she cried: "Girls--girls--there's asick man here. Run and get help. Quick. " "No--no! I--I'm not sick. " A flood of shame and embarrassment drenched him. He could not escapeher tender hands without actual force and his poignant shyness made thatimpossible. She was like a fairy tale, a creature of dreams. He darednot meet her frank pitiful eyes, though he was intensely aware of them. The odor of violets brings to him even to this day a vision of girlishcharm and daintiness, together with a memory of the abased reverencethat filled him. They came running, her companions, eager with question and suggestion. And hard upon their heels a teamster from the road broke throughthe thicket, summoned by their calls for help. He stooped to pick upsomething that his foot had struck. It was a bottle. He looked at it andthen at Jeff. "Nothing the matter with him, Miss, but just plain drunk, " the man saidwith a grin. "He's been sleeping it off. " Jeff felt the quiver run through her. She rose, trembling, and with onefrightened sidelong look at him walked quickly away. He had seen a woundin her eyes he would not soon forget. It was as if he had struck herdown while she was holding out hands to help him. CHAPTER 5 Lies need only age to make them respectable. Given that, they become traditions and are put upon a pedestal. Then the gentlest word for him who attacks them is traitor. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. THE REBEL FOLLOWS THE RAMIFICATIONS OF BIG BUSINESS AND FINDS THAT THEPILLARS OF SOCIETY ARE NOT IN POLITICS FOR THEIR HEALTH Part 1 "Hmp! Want to be a reporter, do you?" Warren, city editor on the Advocate, leaned back in his chair and lookedJeff over sharply. "Yes. " "It's a hell of a life. Better keep out. " "I'd like to try it. " "Any experience?" "Only correspondence. I've had two years at college. " The city editor snorted. He had the unreasoning contempt for college menso often found in the old-time newspaper hack. "Then you don't want to be a reporter. You want to be a journalist, " hejeered. "They kicked me out, " Jeff went on quietly. "Sounds better. Why?" Jeff hesitated. "I got drunk. " "Can't use you, " Warren cut in hastily. "I've quit--sworn off. " The city editor was back on the job, his eyes devouring copy. "Heardthat before. Nothing to it, " he grunted. "Give me a trial. I'll show you. " "Don't want a man that drinks. Office crowded with 'em already. " Jeff held his ground. For five minutes the attention of Warren wasfocused on his work. Suddenly he snapped out, "Well?" He met Farnum's ingratiating smile. "You haven't told me yet what tostart doing. " "I told you I didn't want you. " "But you do. I'm on the wagon. " "For how long?" jeered the city editor. "For good. " Warren sized him up again. He saw a cleareyed young fellow withouta superfluous ounce of flesh on him, not rugged but with a look ofstrength in the slender figure and the thin face. This young man somehowinspired confidence. "Sent in that Colby story to us, didn't you?" "Yes. " "Rotten story. Not half played up. Report to Jenkins at the City Hall. " "Now?" "Now. Think I meant next year?" The city editor was already lost in the reading of more copy. Inside of half an hour Jeff was at work on his first assignment. Somederelict had committed suicide under the very shadow of the City Hall. Upon the body was a note scrawled on the bask of a dirty envelope. Sick and out of work. Notify Henry Simmons, 237 River Street, SanFrancisco. Jenkins, his hands in his pockets, looked at the body indifferently andturned the story over to the cub with a nod of his head. "Go to it. Half a stick, " he said. From another reporter Jeff learned how much half a stick is. He wrotethe account. When he had read it Jenkins glanced sharply at him. Thoughonly the barest facts were told there was a sob in the story. "That ain't just how we handle vag suicides, but we'll let 'er go thistime, " he commented. It did not take Jeff long to learn how to cover a story to thesatisfaction of the city editor. He had only to be conventional, sensational, and in general accurate as to his facts. He fraternizedwith his fellow reporters at the City Hall, shared stories with them, listened to the cheerful lies they told of their exploits, and lent themmoney they generally forgot to return. They were a happy-go-lucky lot, full of careless generosities and Bohemian tendencies. Often a week'ssalary went at a single poker sitting. Most of them drank a good deal. After a few months' experience Jeff discovered that while the gatheringof news tends to sharpen the wits it makes also for the superficial. Alertness, cleverness, persistence, a nose for news, and a surfaceaccuracy were the chief qualities demanded of him by the office. Hehad only to look around him to see that the profession was full ofkeen-eyed, nimble-witted old-young men who had never attempted tosynthesize the life they were supposed to be recording and interpreting. While at work they were always in a hurry, for to-day's news isdead to-morrow. They wrote on the run, without time for thought orreflection. Knowing beyond their years, the fruit of their wisdom wascynicism. Their knowledge withered for lack of roots. The tendency of the city desk and of copy readers is to reduce allreporters to a dead level, but in spite of this Jeff managed to gethimself into his work. He brought to many stories a freshness, a pointof view, an optimism that began to be noticed. From the police run Jeffdrifted to other departments. He covered hotels, the court house, thestate house and general assignments. At the end of a couple of years he was promoted to a desk position. This did not suit him, and he went back to the more active work of thestreet. In time he became known as a star man. From dramatics he wentto politics, special stories and feature work. The big assignments weregiven him. It was his duty to meet famous people and interview them. The chance toget behind the scenes at the real inside story was given him. Becauseof this many reputations were pricked like bubbles so far as he wasconcerned. The mask of greatness was like the false faces childrenwear to conceal their own. In the one or two really big men he met Jeffdiscovered a humility and simplicity that came from self-forgetfulness. They were too busy with their vision of truth to pose for the publicadmiration. Part 2 It was while Jeff was doing the City Hall run that there came to him onenight at his rooms a man he had known in the old days when he hadlived in the river bottom district. If he was surprised to see him thereporter did not show it. "Hello, Burke! Come in. Glad to see you. " Farnum took the hat of his guest and relieved his awkwardness by guidinghim to a chair and helping him get his pipe alight. "How's everything? Little Mike must be growing into a big boy thesedays. Let's see. It's three years since I've seen him. " A momentary flicker lit the gloomy eyes of the Irishman. "He's a greatboy, Mike is. He often speaks of you, Mr. Farnum. "Glad to know it. And Mrs. Burke?" "Fine. " "That leaves only Patrick Burke. I suppose he hasn't fallen off thewater wagon yet. " The occupation of Burke had been a threadbare joke between them in theold days. He drove a street sprinkler for the city. "That's what he has. McGuire threw the hooks into me this morning. I've drove me last day. " "What's the matter?" "I'm too damned honest. .. . Or too big a coward. Take your choice. " "All right. I've taken it, " smiled the reporter. Pat brought his big fist down on the table so forcefully that the booksshook. "I'll not go to the penitentiary for an-ny man. .. . He wanted meto let him put two other teams on the rolls in my name. I wouldn't standfor it. That was six weeks ago. To-day he lets me out. " Jeff began to see dimly the trail of the serpent graft. He lit his pipebefore he spoke. "Don't quite get the idea, Pat. Why wouldn't you?" "Because I'm on the level. I'll have no wan tellin' little Mike hisfather is a dirty thief. .. . It's this way. The rolls were to be padded, understand. " "I see. You were to draw pay for three teams when you've got only one. " "McGuire was to draw it, all but a few dollars a month. " The Irishmanleaned forward, his eyes blazing. "And because I wouldn't stand for itI'm fired for neglecting my duty. I missed a street yesterday. If he'dbeen frientlly to me I might have missed forty. .. . But he can't throwme down like that. I've got the goods to show he's a dirty grafter. Right now he's drawing pay for seven teams that don't exist. " "And he doesn't know you know it?" "You bet he don't. I've guessed it for a month. To-day I went round andmade sure. " Jeff asked questions, learned all that Burke had to tell him. In thedays that followed he ran down the whole story of the graft so secretlythat not even the city editor knew what he was about. Then he had a talkwith the "old man" and wrote his story. It was a red-hot exposure of one of the most flagrant of the City Hallgang. There was no question of the proof. He had it in black and white. Moreover, there was always the chance that in the row which must followMcGuire might peach on Big Tim himself, the boss of all the littlebosses. Within twenty-four hours Jeff was summoned to a conference at which werepresent the city editor and Warren, now managing editor. "We've killed your story, Farnum, " announced the latter as soon as thedoor was closed. "Why? I can prove every word of it. " "That was what we were afraid of. " "It's a peach of a story. With the spring elections coming on we needsome dynamite to blow up Big Tim. I tell you McGuire would tell all heknows to save his own skin. " "My opinion, too, " agreed Warren dryly. "My boy, it's too big a story. That's the whole trouble. If we were sure it would stop at McGuire we'drun it. But it won't. The corporations are backing Big Tim to win thisspring. It won't do to get him tied up in a graft scandal. " "But the _Advocate_ has been out after his scalp for years. " "Well, we're not after it any more. Of course, we're against him on thesurface still. " Jeff did some rapid thinking. "Then the program will be for us tonominate a weak ticket and elect Big Tim's by default. Is that it?" "That's about it. The big fellows have to make sure of a Mayor who willbe all right about the Gas and Electric franchise. So we're going tohave four more years of Big Tim. " "Will Brownell stand for it?" Brownell was the principal owner of the _Advocate. _ "Will he?" Warren let his eyelash rest for a second upon the cheeknearest Jeff. "He's been seen. My orders come direct from the old man. " The story was suppressed. No more was heard about the McGuire graftscandal exposure. It had run counter to the projects of big business. Burke had to be satisfied without his revenge. He got a job with a brewery and charged the McGuire matter to profit andloss. As for Jeff the incident only served to make clearer what he alreadyknew. More and more he began to understand the forces that dominate ourcities, the alliance between large vested interests and the powers thatprey. These great corporations were seekers of special privileges. To secure this they financed the machines and permitted vice andcorruption. He saw that ultimately most of the shame for the badgovernment of American cities rests upon the Fromes and the Merrills. As for the newspapers, he was learning that between the people andan independent press stand the big advertisers. These make forconservatism, for an unfair point of view, for a slant in both newsrecording and news interpretation. Yet he saw that the press is in spiteof this a power for good. The evil that it does is local and temporary, the good general and permanent. Part 3 The spirit of commercialism that dominated America during the ninetiesand the first years of the new century never got hold of Jeff. The airand the light of his land were often the creation of a poet's dream. Thedelight of life stabbed him, so, too, did its tragedy. Not anchored toconventions, his mind was forever asking questions, seeking answers. He would come out from a theater into a night that was a flood ofillumination. Electric signs poured a glare of light over the streets. Motor cars and electrics whirled up to take away beautifully gownedwomen and correctly dressed men. The windows of the department storeswere filled with imported luxuries. And he would sometimes wonder howmuch of misery and trouble was being driven back by that gay blare ofwealth, how many men and women and children were giving their livesto maintain a civilization that existed by trampling over their brokenhearts and bodies. Preventable poverty stared at him from all sides. He saw that oursocial fabric is thrown together in the most haphazard fashion, withoutscientific organization, with the greatest waste, in such a way thatnon-producers win all the prizes while the toilers do without. Yet outof this system that sows hate and discontent, that is a practical denialof brotherhood, of God, springs here and there love like a flower in adunghill. He felt that art and learning, as well as beauty and truth, ought towalk hand in hand with our daily lives. But this is impossible so longas disorder and cruelty and disease are in the world unnecessarily. Heheard good people, busy with effects instead of causes, talk aboutthe way out, as if there could be any way out which did not offer anequality of opportunity refused by the whole cruel system of to-day. But Jeff could be in revolt without losing his temper. The men whoprofited by present conditions were not monsters. They were as kindof heart as he was, effects of the system just as much as the littlebootblack on the corner. No possible good could come of a blind hatredof individuals. His Bohemian instinct sent Jeff ranging far in those days. He madefriends out of the most unlikely material. Some of the most radical ofthese were in the habit of gathering informally in his rooms about oncea week. Sometimes the talk was good and pungent. Much of it was merelywild. His college friend, Sam Miller, now assistant city librarian, was oneof this little circle. Another was Oscar Marchant, a fragile littleSocialist poet upon whom consumption had laid its grip. He was not muchof a poet, but there burnt in him a passion for humanity that diseaseand poverty could not extinguish. One night James Farnum dropped in to borrow some money from his cousinand for ten minutes listened to such talk as he had never heard before. His mind moved among a group of orthodox and accepted ideas. A new onehe always viewed as if it were a dynamite bomb timed to go off shortly. He was not only suspicious of it; he was afraid of it. James was, it happened, in evening dress. He took gingerly the chair hiscousin offered him between the hectic Marchant and a little Polish Jew. The air was blue with the smoke from cheap tobacco. More than one ofthose present carried the marks of poverty. But the note of the assemblywas a cheerful at-homeness. James wondered what the devil his cousinmeant by giving this heterogeneous gathering the freedom of his rooms. Dickinson, the single-taxer, was talking bitterly. He was a big man witha voice like a foghorn. His idea of emphasis appeared to be pounding thetable with his blacksmith fist. "I tell you society doesn't want to hear about such things, " he wasdeclaiming. "It wants to go along comfortably without being disturbed. Ignore everything that's not pleasant, that's liable to harrow thefeelings. The sins of our neighbors make spicy reading. Fill the paperswith 'em. But their distresses and their poverty! That's different. Let's hear as little about them as possible. Let's keep it awell-regulated world. " Nearly everybody began to talk at once. James caught phrases here andthere out of the melee. ". .. Democratic institutions must either decay or becomerevitalized. .. . To hell with such courts. They're no better thananarchy. .. . In Verden there are only two classes: those who don't get asmuch as they earn and those who get more. .. . Tell you we've got to getback to the land, got to make it free as air. You can't be saved fromeconomic slavery till you have socialism. . .. " Suddenly the hubbub subsided and Marchant had the floor. "All of life'sa compromise, a horrible unholy giving up as unpractical all the bestthings. It's a denial of love, of Christ, of God. " A young preacher who was conducting a mission for sailors on the waterfront cut in. "Exactly. The church is radically wrong because--" "Because it hasn't been converted to Christianity yet. Mr. Moneybagsin the front pew has got a strangle hold on the parson. Begging yourpardon, Mifflin. We know you're not that kind. " Marchant won the floor again. "Here's the nub of it. A man's a slave solong as his means of livelihood is dependent on some other man. I don'tcare whether it's lands or railroads or mines. Abolish private propertyand you abolish poverty. " They were all at it again, like dogs at a bone. Across the Babel Jamescaught Jeff's gay grin at him. By sheer weight Dickinson's voice boomed out of the medley. ". .. Just as Henry George says: 'Private ownership of land is the nethermill-stone. Material progress is the upper mill-stone. Between them, with an increasing pressure, the working classes are being ground. 'We're just beginning to see the effect of private property in land. Within a few years. .. . " "What we need is to get back to Democracy. Individualism has runwild. .. . " "Trouble is we can't get anywhere under the Constitution. Every timewe make a move--check. It was adopted by aristocrats to hold back thepeople and that's what it's done. Law--" Apparently nobody got a chance to finish his argument. The Polish Jewbroke in sharply. "Law! There iss no law. " "Plenty of it, Sobieski, Go out on the streets and preach yourphilosophic anarchy if you don't believe it. See what it will do to you. Law's a device to bolster up the strong and to hammer down the weak. " James had given a polite cynical indulgence to views so lost to reasonand propriety. But he couldn't quite stand any more. He made a sign toJeff and they adjourned to the next room. "Your friends always so--so enthusiastic?" he asked with the slightestlift of his upper lip. "Not always. They're a little excited to-night because Harshawimprisoned those fourteen striking miners for contempt of court. " "Don't manufacture bombs here, do you?" Jeff laughed. "We're warranted harmless. " James offered him good advice. "That sort of talk doesn't lead toanything--except trouble. Men who get on don't question the fundamentalsof our social system. It doesn't do, you know. Take the constitution. Now I've studied it. A wonderful document. Gladstone said. " "Yes, I know what Gladstone said. I don't agree with him. Theconstitution was devised by men with property as a protection againstthose who had none. " "Why shouldn't it have been?" "It should, if vested interests are the first thing to consider. Inthere"--with a smiling wave of his hand--"they think people are moreimportant than things. A most unsettling notion!" "Mean to say you believe all that rant they talk?" "Not quite, " Jeff laughed. "Well, I'd cut that bunch of anarchists if I were you, " his cousinsuggested. "Say, Jeff, can you let me have fifty dollars?" Jeff considered. He had been thinking of a new spring overcoat, but hiswinter one would do well enough. From the office he could get an advanceof the balance he needed to make up the fifty. "Sure. I'll bring it to your rooms to-morrow night. " "Much obliged. Hate to trouble you, " James said lightly. "Well, I won'tkeep you longer from your anarchist friends. Good-night. " CHAPTER 6 "The cure for the evils of Democracy is more Democracy. " --De Tocqueville. THE REBEL HUMBLY ASSISTS AT THE UNVEILING OF A HERO'S STATUE Part 1 On the occasion when his cousin was graduated with the highest honorsfrom the law school of Verden University Jeff sat inconspicuously nearthe rear of the chapel. James, as class orator, rose to his hour. Fromthe moment that he moved slowly to the front of the platform, handsomeand impassive, his calm gaze sweeping over the audience while he waitedfor the little bustle of expectancy to subside, Jeff knew that the nameof Farnum was going to be covered with glory. The orator began in a low clear voice that reached to the last seatin the gallery. Jeff knew that before he finished its echoes would beringing through the hall like a trumpet call to the emotions of thosepresent. It was not destined that Jeff should hear a word of that stirringperoration. His eye fell by chance upon a young woman seated in a boxbeside an elderly man whom he recognized as Peter C. Frome. From thatinstant he was lost to all sense perception that did not focus upon her. For he was looking at the dryad who had come upon him out of the fernsthree years before. She would never know it, but Alice Frome had savedhim from the weakness that might have destroyed him. From that day hehad been a total abstainer. Now as he looked at her the vivid irregularbeauty of the girl flowed through him like music. Her charm for him laydeeper than the golden gleams of imprisoned sunlight woven in her hair, than the gallant poise of the little head above the slender figure. Though these set his heart beating wildly, a sure instinct told him ofthe fine and exquisite spirit that found its home in her body. She was leaning forward in her chair, her eyes fixed on James almost asif she were fascinated by his oratory. Her father watched her, a trifleamused at her eagerness. In her admiration she was frank as a boy. WhenFarnum's last period was rounded out and he made to leave the stage hergloved hands beat together in excited applause. After the ceremonies were over James came straight to her. Jeff missedno detail of their meeting. The young lawyer was swimming on a tideof triumph, but it was easy to see that Alice Frome's approval wasthe thing he most desired. His cousin had never seen him so gay, sohandsome, so altogether irresistible. For the first time a little spasmof envy shot through Jeff, That the girl liked James was plain enough. How could any girl help liking him? The orator was so much the center of attention that Jeff postponed hiscongratulations till evening. He called on his cousin after midnightat his rooms. James had just returned from a class banquet where he hadbeen the toastmaster. He was still riding the big wave. "It's been a great day for me, Jeff, " he broke out after his cousin hadcongratulated him. "I've earned it, too. For seven years I've workedtoward this day as a climax. Did you see me talking to P. C. Frome andhis daughter? I'm going to be accepted socially in the best houses ofthe city. I'll make them all open to me. " "I don't doubt it. " "And the best of it is that I've made my own success. " "Yes, you've worked hard, " Jeff admitted with a little gleam of humorin his eyes. He would not remind his cousin that he had lent him most ofthe money to see him through law school. "Oh, worked!" James was striding up and down the room to get rid ofsome of his nervous energy. "I've done more than work. I've madeopportunities. .. Grabbed them coming and going. Young as I am Verdenexpects big things of me. And I'll deliver the goods, too. " "What's the program?" Jeff asked, much amused. "Don't know yet. I'm going into politics and I mean to get ahead. I'llmake a big splash and keep in the public eye. " His cousin could not help laughing. "You always were a pretty good pressagent for J. K. Farnum. " "Why shouldn't I be?" "I don't know why you shouldn't. A man who gets ahead puts himself in aposition where he can bring about reforms. " "That's it exactly. I mean to make myself a power. " "Get hold of one good practical reform and back it. Pound away on ituntil the people identify you with it. Take direct legislation as yourtext, say. There's going to be a strong drift that way in the next tenyears. Machines and bosses are going to be swept to the junk heap. " "How do you know?" Jeff could give no adequate justification for the faith that was in him. It would be no answer to tell James that he knew the plain people ofthe state better than the politicians did. However, he mentioned a fewfacts. "It's all very well for you to be a radical, but I have to conserve myinfluence, " James objected. "I've got to be practical. If I were justgoing to be a reporter it would be different. " "Don't be too practical, James. You've got to have some vision if you'regoing to lead the people. Nobody is so blind to the future as practicalpoliticians and business men. " He stopped, smiling quizzically. "Butyou're the orator of the family. I don't want to infringe on yourcopyright. Only you have the personality to be a real leader. Getstarted right. Remember that America faces forward, and that we're goingto move with seven league boots to better conditions. " James mused out loud. "If a man could be a Lincoln to save the peoplefrom industrial slavery it would be worth while. " Jeff did not laugh at his conceit. "Go to it. I'll promise you thebacking of the _World_. " "What have you to do with the _World_?" "Beginning with next Monday I'm to be managing editor. " "You!" "Even so. Captain Chunn has bought the paper. " "Chunn, the man who made millions in a lucky strike in Alaska?" "Same man. " James was still incredulous. "How did Chunn happen to pick you for theeditor?" "He's an old friend of mine. 'Member the day I had the fight with NedMerrill. Captain Chunn was the man who stood up for me. " "And you've known him ever since?" "I've always corresponded with him. " "Well, I'll be hanged. Talk about luck. " James looked his cousin overwith increased respect. He always took off his hat to success, but hehad been so long accustomed to thinking of Jeff as a failure that hecould not adjust his mind to the situation. "Why, you can't run a paper. Can you?" Jeff smiled. "I told Captain Chunn he was taking a big chance. " "If he's as rich as they say he is he can afford to lose some money. " James took the news of his cousin's good fortune a little peevishly. Hedid not grudge Jeff's advancement, but he resented that it had befallenhim to-day of all days. The promotion of the reporter took the edge offhis own achievements. Part 2 As James understood his own genius, it was as a statesman that he wasfitted preeminently to shine. He had the urbanity, the large impassivemanner, and the magnetic eloquence of the old-style congressman. All heneeded was the chance. With the passing months he grew more restless at the delay. There weremoments in the night when he trembled lest some stroke of evil fatemight fall upon him before he had carved his name in the niche of fame. To sit in an empty law office and wait for clients took more patiencethan he could summon. He wanted an opportunity to make speeches in thecampaign that was soon to open. That he finally went to Big Tim himselfabout it instead of to his ward committeeman was characteristic of JamesK. After he sent his card in the young lawyer was kept waiting forthirty-five minutes in an outer office along with a Jew peddler, apugilist ward heeler, an Irish saloonkeeper, and a brick contractor. Naturally he was exceedingly annoyed. O'Brien ought to know that JamesK. Farnum did not rank with this riff-raff. When at last James got into the holy of holies he found Big Tim lollingback in his swivel chair with a fat cigar in his mouth. The boss did nottake the trouble to rise as he waved his visitor to a chair. Farnum explained that he was interested in the political situation andthat he was prepared to take an active part in the campaign about toopen. The big man listened, watching him out of half shut attentiveeyes. He had never yet seen a kid glove politician that was worth thepowder to blow him up. Moreover, he had special reasons for dislikingthis one. His cousin was editor of the _World_, and that paper wasbecoming a thorn in his side. O'Brien took the cigar from his mouth. "Did youse go to the primary lastnight?" he asked. James did not even know there had been one. He had in point of fact beenat a Country Club dance. "Can youse tell me what the vote of your precinct was at the last cityelection?" The budding statesman could not. "What precinct do youse live in?" Farnum was not quite sure. He explained that he had moved recently. Big Tim grunted scornfully. He was pleased to have a chance to take downthe cheek of any Farnum. "What do youse think you can do?" "I can make speeches. I'm the best orator that ever came out of VerdenUniversity. " "Tommyrot! How do youse stand in your precinct? Can youse get the voteout to go down the line for us? That's what counts. Oratory be damned!" James was pale with rage. The manner of the boss was nothing less thaninsulting. "Then you decline to give me a chance, Mr. O'Brien?" "I do not. In politics a man makes his own chance. He gets along bybeing so useful we can't get along without him. See? He learns the game. You don't know the A B C of it. It's my opinion youse never will. " O'Brien's hard cold eye triumphed over him as a principal does over adelinquent schoolboy. His vanity stung, the lawyer sprang to his feet. "Very well, Mr. O'Brien. I'll show you a thing or two about what I can and can't do. " For just an instant a notion flitted across Big Tim's mind that he mightbe making a mistake. He was indulging an ugly temper, and he knew it. This was a luxury he rarely permitted himself. Now he decided to "go thewhole hog, " as he phrased it to himself later. His lips set to an uglysnarl. "It's like the nerve of ye to come to me. Want to begin at the topinstid of at the bottom. Go to Billie Gray if youse want to have somewan learn youse the game. If you're any good he'll find it out. " James got himself out of the office with all the dignity of which hewas capable. Go to Billie Gray, the notorious ballot box stuffer! Takeorders from the little rascal who had shaved the penitentiary onlybecause of his pull! James saw himself doing it. He was sore in everyoutraged nerve of him. Never before in his life had anybody sat andsneered at him openly before his eyes. He would show the big boss thathe had been a fool to treat him so. And he would show P. C. Frome andNed Merrill that he was a very valuable man. How? Why, by fighting the corporations! Wasn't that the way that all thebig men got their start nowadays as lawyers? As soon as they discoveredhis value Frome and his friends would be after his services fast enough. James was no radical, but he believed Jeff knew what he was talkingabout when he predicted an impending political change, one that wouldcarry power back from the machine bosses to the people. The young lawyerdecided to ride that wave as far as it would take him. He would be atribune of the people, and they in turn would make of him their hero. With the promised backing of the _World_ he would go a long way. He knewthat Jeff would fling him at once into the limelight. And he would makegood. He would be the big speaker for the reform movement. Nobody inthe state could sway a crowd as he could. James had not the least doubtabout that. It was glory and applause he wanted, not the drudgery ofdirty ward politics. Part 3 Under Jeff's management the _World_ had at once taken the leadership inthe fight for political reform in the state. He made it the policy ofthe paper to tell the truth as to corruption both in and out of hisown party. Nor would he allow the business office, as influenced by theadvertisers, to dictate the policy of the paper. The result was thatat the end of the first year he went to the owner with a report of adeficit of one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars for the twelvemonths just ended. Captain Chunn only laughed. "Keep it up, son. I've had lots of fun outof it. You've given this town one grand good shaking up. The whole stateis getting its fighting clothes on. We've got Merrill and Frome scaredstiff about their supreme court judges. Looks to me as if we were goingto lick them. " The political campaign was already in progress. Hitherto the publicutility corporations of Verden had controlled and practically owned themachinery of both parties. The _World_ had revolted, rallied the bettersentiment in the party to which it belonged, and forced the conventionto declare for a reform platform and to nominate a clean ticket composedof men of character. Jeff agreed. "I think we're going to win. The people are with us. The_World_ is booming. " It's the advertising troubles me. Frome and Merrillhave got at the big stores and they won't come in with any space worthmentioning. " "Damn the big advertisers, " exploded Chunn. "I've got two million coldand I'm going to see this thing out, son. That's what I told Frome lastweek when he had the nerve to have me nominated to the Verden Club. Wanted to muzzle me. Be a good fellow and quit agitating. That was theidea. I sent back word I'd stuck by Lee to Appomattox and I reckoned Iwas too old a dog to learn the new trick of deserting my flag. " "If you're satisfied I ought to be, " Jeff laughed. "As for theadvertising, the stores will come back soon. The managers all want totake space, but they are afraid of spoiling their credit at the bankswhile conditions are so unsettled. " "Oh, well. We'll stick to our guns. You fire'em and I'll supply theammunition. " The little man put his hand on Jeff's shoulder with achuckle. "We're both rebels--both irreconcilables, son. I reckon we'regoing to be well hated before we get through with this fight. " "Yes. They're going about making people believe we're cranks andagitators who are hurting business for our own selfish ends. " "I reckon we can stand it, David. " Chunn had no children of his own andhe always called Jeff son or David. "By the way, how's that good lookingcousin of yours coming out? I see you're giving his speeches lots ofspace. " A light leaped to the eyes of the younger man. "He's doing fine. Jamesis a born orator. Wherever he goes he gets a big ovation. " Chunn grunted. "Humph! That'll please him. He's as selfish as the devil, always looking out for James Farnum. " "He wins the people, Captain. " "You talk every evening yourself, but I don't see reports of any of yourspeeches. " "I don't talk like James. There's not a man in the state to equal him, young as he is. " "Humph!" Captain Chunn grumbled a good deal about the way Jeff was always pushinghis cousin forward and keeping in the background himself. In his opinion"David" was worth a hundred of the other. CHAPTER 7 "Spirits of old that bore me, And set me, meek of mind, Between great deeds before me, And deeds as great behind, Knowing Humanity my star As forth of old I ride, O help me wear with every scar Honor at eventide. " THE REBEL DISCOVERS THAT ADHESION IS A PROPERTY OF MUD; ALSO THAT ASOLDIER MUST SOMETIMES TURN HIS BACK AND BURN THE BRIDGES BEHIND HIM Part 1 The fight for the control of the state developed unprecedentedbitterness. The big financial interests back of the political machinespoured out money like water to elect a ticket that would be friendlyto capital. An eight-hour-day bill to apply to miners and undergroundworkers had been passed by the last legislature and a supreme courtmust be elected to declare this law unconstitutional. Moreover, a UnitedStates senator was to be chosen, so that the personnel of the assemblywas a matter of great importance. Through the subsidized columns of the _Advocate_ and the _Herald_ allthe venom of outraged public plunder was emptied on the heads ofJeff Farnum and Captain Chunn. They were rebels, blackmailers, andanarchists. Jeff's life was held up to public scorn as dissolute andlicentious. He had been expelled from college and consorted only withcompanions of the lowest sort. A free thinker and an atheist, he wantedto tear down the pillars which upheld society. Unless Verden and thestate repudiated him and his gang of trouble breeders the poison oftheir opinions would infect the healthy fabric of the community. There was about Jeff a humility, a sort of careless generosity, thatcould take with a laugh a hit at himself. But in the days that followedhe was often made to wince when good men drew away from him as from amoral pervert. Twice he was hissed from the stage when he attemptedto talk, or would have been, if he had not quietly waited until theindignant protesters were exhausted. It amused him to see that his oldcollege acquaintance "Sissie" Thomas and Billy Gray, the ballot boxstuffer of the Second Ward, were among the most vehement of those whothus scorned him. So do the extremes of virtue and vice find commonground when the blasphemer raises his voice against intrenched capital. The personal calumny of the enemy showed how hard hit the big bosseswere, how beneath their feet they felt the ground of public opinionshift. It had been only a year since Big Tim O'Brien, boss of the cityby permission of the public utility corporations, had read Jeff's firsteditorial against ballot box stuffing. In it the editor of the _World_had pledged that paper never to give up the fight for the people untilsuch crookedness was stamped out. Big Tim had laughed until his paunchshook at the confidence of this young upstart and in impudent defiancehad sent him a check for fifty dollars for the Honest Election League. Neither Big Tim nor the respectable buccaneers back of him were laughingnow. They were fighting with every ounce in them to sweep back the waveof civic indignation the _World_ had gathered into a compact aggressiveorganization. Young Ned Merrill, who represented the interests of the alliedcorporations, had Big Tim on the carpet. The young man had not been outof Harvard more than three years, but he did not let any nonsense aboutfair play stand in his way. In spite of the clean-cut look of him--hewas broadshouldered and tall, with an effect of decision in the squarecleft chin that would some day degenerate into fatness--Ned Merrillplayed the game of business without any compunctions. "You're making a bad fight of it, O'Brien. Old style methods won't winfor us. These crank reformers have got the people stirred up. Keep yourward workers busy, but don't expect them to win. " He leaned forwardand brought his fist down heavily on the desk. "We've got to smashFarnum--discredit him with the bunch of sheep who are following him. " "What more do youse want? We're callin' him ivery black name underHiven. " Merrill shook his head decisively. "Not enough. Prove something. Catchhim with the goods. " "If youse'll show me how?" "I don't care how, You've got detectives, haven't you? Find out allabout him, where he comes from, who his people were. Rake his life witha fine tooth comb from the day he was born. He's a bad egg. We all knowthat. Dig up facts to prove it. " Within the hour detectives were set to work. One of them left next dayfor Shelby. Another covered the neighborhoods where Jeff had lived inVerden. Henceforth wherever he went he was shadowed. It was about this time that Samuel Miller lost his place in the citylibrary on account of his political opinions. For more than a year heand Jeff had roomed together at a private boarding house kept by a Mrs. Anderson. Within twenty-four hours of his dismissal Miller was on theroad, sent out by the campaign committee of his party to make speechesthroughout the state. Jeff himself was speaking nearly every night now that the day ofelection was drawing near. This, together with the work of editing thepaper and the strain of the battle, told heavily on a vitality nevertoo much above par. He would come back to his rooms fagged out, oftendejected because some friend had deserted to the enemy. One cold rainy evening he met Nellie Anderson in the hall. She had beensaying good-bye to some friends who had been in to call on her. "You're wet, Mr. Farnum, " the young woman said. "A little. " She stood hesitating in the doorway leading to the apartment of herselfand her mother, then yielded shyly to a kindly impulse. "We've been making chocolate. Won't you come in and have some? You lookcold. " Jeff glimpsed beyond her the warm grate fire in the room. He, too, yielded to an impulse. "Since you're so good as to ask me, Miss Nellie. " She took charge of his hat and overcoat, making him sit down in a bigarmchair before the fire. He watched her curiously as she moved lightlyabout waiting on him. Nellie was a soft round little person withconstant intimations of a childhood not long outgrown. Jeff judged shemust be nineteen or twenty, but she had moments of being charminglyunsure of herself. The warm color came and went in her clear cheeks atthe least provocation. "Mother's gone to bed. She always goes early. You don't mind, " she askednaively. Jeff smiled. She was, he thought, about as worldly wise as a fluffykitten. "No, I don't mind at all, " he assured her. Nor did he in the least. His weariness was of the spirit rather than thebody, and he found her grace, her shy sweetness, grateful to the jadedsenses. It counted in her favor that she was not clever or ultra-modern. The dimpling smiles, the quick sympathy of this innocent, sensuous youngcreature, drew him out of his depression. When he left the pleasantwarmth of the room half an hour later it was with a little glow at theheart. He had found comfort and refreshment. How it came to pass Jeff never quite understood, but it soon was almosta custom for him to drop into the living room to get a cup of chocolatewhen he came home. He found himself looking forward to that half houralone with Nellie Anderson. Whoever else criticized him, she did not. The manner in which she made herself necessary to his material comfortwas masterly. She would be waiting, eager to help him off with hisovercoat, hot chocolate and sandwiches ready for him in the cozyliving-room. To him, who for years had lived a hand-to-mouth boardinghouse existence, her shy wholesome laughter made that room sing of home, one which her personality fitted to a dot. She was always in good humor, always trim and neat, always alluring to the eye. And she had the prettylittle domestic ways that go to the head of a bachelor when he eatsalone with an attractive girl. Their intimacy was not exactly a secret. Mrs. Anderson, who was ratherdeaf and admitted to being a heavy sleeper, knew that Jeff dropped inoccasionally. He suspected she did not know how regularly, but she wasone of that large class of American mothers who let their daughtersarrange their own love affairs and would not have interfered had sheknown. Once or twice it flashed upon Jeff that this ought not to go on. Sincehe had no intention of marrying Nell he must not let their relationshipreach the emotional climax toward which he guessed it was racing. Buthis experience in such matters was limited. He did not know how to breakoff their friendship without hurting her, and he was eager to minimizethe possibility of danger. His modesty made this last easy. Out of herkindness she was good to him, but it was not to be expected that sopretty a girl would fall in love with a man like him. The most potent argument for letting things drift was his own cravingfor her. She was becoming necessary to him. Whenever he thought of herit was with a tender glow. Her soft long-lashed eyes would come betweenhim and the editorial he was writing. A dozen times a day he could seea picture of the tilted little coaxing mouth. The gurgle of her laughtercalled to him for hours before he left the office. He got into the habit of talking to her about the things that weretroubling him--the tactics of the enemy, the desertion of friends, the dubious issue of the campaign. Curled up in a big chair, her wholeattention absorbed in what he was saying Nellie made a good listener. Ifshe did not show a full understanding of the situation, he could alwayssense her ready sympathy. Her naive, indignant loyalty was touching. "I read what the _Advocate_ said about you today, " she told him onenight, a tide of color in her cheeks. "It was horrid. As if anybodywould believe it. " "I'm afraid a good many people do, " he said gravely. "Nobody who knows you, " she protested stoutly. "Yes, some who know me. " He let his eyes dwell on her. It was easy to see how undisciplined oflife she was, save where its material aspects had come into impact withher on the economic side. "None of your real friends. " "How many real friends has a man--friends who will stand by him nomatter how unpopular he is?" "I don't know. I should think you'd have lots of them. " He shook his head, a hint of a smile in his eyes. "Not many. They keeptheir chocolate and sandwiches for folks whose trolley do'esn't fly thewire. " "What wire?" she asked, her forehead knitted to a question. "Oh, the wire that's over the tracks of respectability and vestedinterests and special privilege. " She had been looking at him, but now her gaze went to the fire with thatslow tilt of the chin he liked. Another color wave swept the oval of thesoft cheeks. "You've got more friends than you think, " she said in a low voice. "I've got one little friend I wouldn't like to lose. " She did not speak and his hand moved forward to cover hers. Instantlya wild and insurgent emotion tingled through him. He felt himselftrembling and could not steady his nerves. Without a word Nellie looked up and their eyes met. Something electricflashed from one to another. Her shy fear of him was adorable. "Oh, don't, don't!" she murmured. "What will you think of me now?" He had leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Jeff sprang to his feet, the muscles in his lean cheeks standingout. Some bell of warning was ringing in him. He was a man, young anddesirous, subject to all the frailties of his sex, holding experiencesin his past that had left him far from a puritan. And she was a woman, of unschooled impulses, with unsuspected banked passions, an innocentcreature in whom primeval physical life rioted. He moved toward the door, his left fist beating into the palm of hisright hand. He must protect her, against himself--and against herinnocent affection for him. She fluttered past him, barring the way. Her cheeks were flaming withshame. "You despise me. Why did I let you?" A sob swelled up into her softround throat. "You blessed lamb, " he groaned. "You're going to leave me. You--you don't want me for a friend anylonger. " Her lips trembled--the red little lips that always reminded him of ababy's with its Cupid's bow. She was on the verge of breaking down. Jeffcould not stand that. He held out his hands, intending to take hers andexplain that he was not angry or disappointed at her. But somehow hefound her in his arms instead, supple and warm, vital youth flowing inthe soft cheeks' rich coloring and in the eyes quick and passionate withthe tender abandon of her sex. He set his teeth against the rush of desire that flooded him as her softbody clung to his. The emotional climax he had vaguely feared had leapedupon them like an uncaged tiger. He fought to stamp down the fires thatblazed up in him. Time to think--he must have time to think. "You don't despise me then, " she cried softly, a little catch in herbreath. "No, " he protested, and again "No. " "But you think I've done wrong. " "No. I've been to blame. You're a dear girl--and I've abused yourkindness. I must go away--now. " "Then you--you do hate me, " she accused with a quivering lip. "No. .. No. I'm very fond of you. " "But you're going to leave me. It's because I've done wrong. " "Don't blame yourself, dear. It has been all my fault. I ought to haveknown. " Her hands fell from him. The life seemed to die out of her whole figure. "You do despise me. " Desire of her throbbed through him, but he spoke very quietly. "Listen, dear. There is nobody I respect more. .. And none I like so much. Ican't tell you how. .. Fond of you I am. But I must go now. You don'tunderstand. " She bit her lip to repress the sobs that would come and turned away tohide her shame. Jeff caught her in his arms, kissed her passionately onthe lips, the eyes, the soft round throat. "You do. .. Like me, " she purred happily. Abruptly he pushed her from him. Where were they drifting? He must gethis anchors down before it was too late. Somehow he broke away, leaving her there hurt and bewildered at hisapparent fickleness, at the stiffness with which he had beaten back thesweet delight inviting them. Jeff went to his rooms, his mind in a blind chaotic surge. He sat beforethe table for hours, fighting grimly to persuade himself he need notput away this joy that had come to him. Surely friendship was a goodthing. .. And love. A man ought not to turn his back on them. It was long past midnight when he rose, took his father's sword from thewall where it hung, and unsheathed it. A vision of an open fireplace ina log house rose before him, his father in the foreground looking like apicture of Stonewall Jackson. The kind brave eyes that were the soul ofhonor gazed at him. "You damned scoundrel! You damned scoundrel!" Jeff accused himself in alow voice. He knew his little friend was good and innocent, but he knew too she hadinherited a temperament that made her very innocence a anger to her. Every instinct of chivalry called upon him to protect her from theweakness she did not even guess. She had given him her kindness and herfriendship, the dear child! It was up to him to be worthy of them. If hefailed her he would be a creature forever lost to decency. There was a sob in his throat as Jeff pushed the blade back into theworn scabbard and rehung the sword upon the wall. But the eyes in hislifted face were very bright. He too would keep his sword unstained andthe flag of honor flying. All through the next day and the next his resolution held. He took painsnot to see her alone, though there was not an hour of the day when hecould get away from the thought of her. The uneasy consciousness waswith him that the issue was after all only postponed, that decisions ofthis kind must be made again and again so long as opportunity and desirego together. And there were moments of reaction when his will was like arope of sand, when the longing for her swept over him like a great wave. As Jeff slipped quietly into the hall the door of her room opened. Theireyes met, and presently hers fell. She was troubled and ashamed at whatshe had done, but plainly eager in her innocence to be forgiven. Jeff spoke gently. "Nellie. " Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Aren't we ever going to be friendsagain?" Through the open door he could see the fire glowing in the grate andthe chocolate set on the little table. He knew she had prepared for hiscoming and how greatly she would be hurt if he rejected her advances. "Of course we're friends. " "Then you'll come in, just for a few minutes. " He hesitated. "Please, " she whispered. "Or I'll know you don't like me any more. " Jeff followed her into the room and closed the door behind him. Part 2 Two days before the election Big Tim's detective wired from Shelby, Tennessee, the outline of a story that got two front page columns inboth the _Advocate_ and the _Herald. _ Jefferson Davis Farnum was theson of a thief, of a rebel soldier who had spent seven years in thepenitentiary for looting the bank of which he was cashier. In additionto featuring the news story both papers handled the subject at length intheir editorial columns. They wanted to know whether the people ofthis beautiful state were willing to hand over the Commonwealth to beplundered by the reckless gang of which this son of a criminal was thehead. The paper reached Jeff at his rooms in the morning. He had lately takenthe apartments formerly occupied by his cousin, James moving to Mrs. Anderson's until after the election. The exchange had been made at thesuggestion of the editor, who gave as a reason that he wanted to beclose to his work until the winter was past. It happened that James wasjust now very glad to get a cheaper place. He was very short of fundsand until after the election had no time for social functions. All heneeded with a room was to sleep in it. Jeff was still reading the story from Shelby when his cousin came inhurriedly. James was excited and very white. "My God, Jeff! It's come at last. I knew it would ruin me some day, " thelawyer cried, after he had carefully closed the door of the bedroom. "It won't ruin you, James. Your name isn't mentioned yet. Perhaps it maynot be. It can't hurt you, even if it is. " "I tell you it will ruin me both socially and politically. Once it getsout nobody will trust me. I'll be the son of a thief, " James insistedwildly. "You're the son of a man who made a slip and has paid for it, " answeredJeff steadily. "Don't let your ideas get warped. This town is full ofmen who have done wrong and haven't paid for it. " "That's one of your fool socialist theories. " James spoke sharply andirritably. "No man's guilty till the law says so. They haven't been inthe penitentiary. He has. That's what damns me if it gets out. " Jeff laid a hand affectionately on his cousin's shoulder. "Don't youbelieve it for a moment. There's no moral distinction between the manwho has paid and the man who hasn't paid for his sins toward society. There is good and there is bad in all of us, closely intertwined, knittogether into the very warp and woof of our lives. We're all good andwe're all bad. " It was with James a purely personal equation. He could not forget itsrelation to himself. "My name is to be voted on at the University Club next month. I'll beblackballed to a dead certainty, " he said miserably. "Probably, if the story gets out. It's tough, I know. " Jeff's eyesgleamed angrily. "And why should they? You're just as good a man to-dayas you were yesterday. But there's nothing so fettering, so despicableas good form. It blights. Let a man bow down to the dead hand of customand he can never again be true to what he thinks and knows. His judgmentgets warped. Soon Madame Grundy does his thinking for him, alongwell-grooved lines. " "Oh, well! That's just talk. What am I to do?" James broke outnervously. "I know what I would do in your case. " "What?" "Come out with a short statement telling the exact facts. I'd make noapologies or long explanation. Just the plain story as simply as youcan. " "Well, I'll not, " the lawyer broke out. "Easy enough for you to say whatI ought to do. Look at who my friends are--the Fromes and the Merrillsand the Gilmans. Best set in town. I strained a point when I broke loosefrom them to take up this progressive fight. They'd cut me dead if astory like this came out. " "I daresay. Communities are loaded to the guards with respectablecowards. But if you stand on your own feet like a man they'll think moreof you for it. Most of them will be glad to know you again inside offive years. For you're going to be successful, and people like theMerrills and the Gilmans bow down to success. " The lawyer shook his head doggedly. "I'm not going to tell a thing Idon't have to tell. That's settled. " He hesitated a moment before hewent on. "I've got a reason why I want to stand well with the Fromes, Jeff. I'm not in a position to risk anything. " Jeff waited. He thought he knew that reason. "I'm going to marry Alice Frome if I can. " "You've asked her. " Jeff's voice sounded to himself as if it belonged toanother man. "No. Not yet. Ned Merrill's in the running. Strong, too. He's beingbacked by his father and old P. C. Frome. The idea is to consolidateinterests by this marriage. But I've got a fighting chance. She likesme. Since I went into this political fight against her father she'staken pains to show me how friendly she feels. But if this story getsout--I'm smashed. That's all. " "Go to her. Tell her the truth. She'll stand by you, " his cousin urged. "You don't understand these people, Jeff. I do. Even if she wanted tostand by me she couldn't. They wouldn't let her. Right now I'm carryingall the handicap I can. " Jeff walked to the window and stood looking out with his hands in hispockets. The hum of the busy street rose to his ears, but he didnot hear it. Nor did he see the motor cars whizzing past, the drayslumbering along, the thronged sidewalks of Powers Avenue. A door thathad for years been ajar in his heart had swung to with a crash. Theincredible folly of his dream was laid bare to him. Despised, distrustedand disgraced, there was no chance that he might be even a friend toher. She moved in another world, one he could not reach if he would andwould not if he could. All that he believed in she had been brought upto disregard. Much that was dear to her he must hammer down so long asthere was life in him. But James--he had fought his way up to her. Why shouldn't he have hischance? Better--far better James than Ned Merrill. He had heard theechoes of a disgraceful story about that young man in his college days, the story of how he had trampled down a working girl for his pleasure. James was clean and honorable. .. And she loved him. Jeff's mind fastenedon that last as a thing assured. Had he not seen her with starry eyesfixed on her hero, held fast as a limed bird? She too was entitled toher chance, and there was a way he could give it to her. He turned back to James, who was sitting despondently at the managingeditor's desk, jabbing at the blotting sheet with a pencil. Jeff touched the _Advocate_ he still held in his hand. "Did you readthis story carefully?" "No. I just ran my eye down it. Why?" "Whoever dug it up has made a mistake. He has jumped to the conclusionthat I'm Uncle Robert's son. Why not let it go at that?" His cousin looked up with a flash of eager hope. "You mean--" "I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Let it go the way theyhave it. " The lawyer's heart leaped, but he could not let this go without aprotest. "No, I--I couldn't do that. It's awfully good of you, Jeff. " The managing editor smiled in his whimsical way. "My reputation has longbeen in tatters. A little more can't hurt it. " James conceded a reflective assent with a manner of impartiality. "Ofcourse your friends wouldn't think any the less of you. They're notso--so--" "respectable as yours, " Jeff finished for him. "I was going to say so hidebound. " "All the same, isn't it?" "But it would be a sacrifice for you. I recognize that. And I'm notsure that I could accept it. I will have to think that over, " the lawyerconcluded magnanimously. "You'll find it is best. But I think I would tell Miss Frome, even if Ididn't tell anybody else. She has a right to know. " "You may depend upon me to do whatever is best about that. " James was hardly out of the office before Captain Chunn blew in like asmall tornado. He was boiling with rage. "What's this infernal lie about you being the son of a convict, David?"he demanded, waving a copy of the Herald. "Sit down, Captain. I'll tell you the story because you're entitled toit. But I shall have to speak in confidence. " "Confidence! Dad burn it, what are you talking about? Are you trying totell me that Phil Farnum was a thief and a convict?" Jeff's steel-blue eyes looked straight into his. "Nothing so impossibleas that, Captain. I'm going to tell you the story of his brother. " Jeff told it, but he and the owner of the _World_ disagreed radicallyabout the best way to answer the attack. "Why must you always stand between that kid glove cousin of yours andtrouble? Let him stand the gaff himself. It will do him good, " Chunnstormed. But Jeff had his way. The _World_ made no denial of the facts charged. In a statement on the front page that covered less than three stickshe told the simple story of the defalcation of Robert Farnum. One thingonly he added to the account given in the opposition papers. This wasthat during the past two years the shortage of the bank cashier had beenpaid in full to the Planters' First National at Shelby. There were many forecasts as to what the effect of the Farnum storywould be on the election returns. It is enough to say that the ticketsupported by the _World_ was chosen by a small majority. James waselected to the legislature by a plurality of fifteen hundred votes overhis antagonist, a majority unheard of in the Eleventh District. CHAPTER 8 Is not this the trouble with our whole man-made world, that the game is played with loaded dice? Against the poor, the weak and the unfortunate have the cards been stacked. A tremendous percentage is in favor of the crook, the scoundrel, the smug robber of industry by whom the hands are dealt. Wealth, created by the many, is more and more flowing into the vaults of the few. Legislatures, Congress, the courts, all the machinery of government, answer to the crack of the whip wielded by Big Business. The creed of the allied plunderers is that he should take who has the power and he should keep who can. Until we mutiny against the timidity of our times Democracy and Prosperity will be dreams. The poor and the parasite we shall have always with us. In that new world which is to be MEN and not THINGS will be supreme, property a means and not an end. The heart of the world will be born anew under an economic reconstruction that will give freedom for individual development. For our social and industrial life will be founded not on a denial of God but on an affirmation of Brotherhood. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. THE HERO MEETS AND ADMIRES A MONA LISA SMILE. HE IS TENDERED AN APOLOGYFOR A PAST DISCOURTESY Part 1 Came James Farnum down Powers Avenue carrying with buoyant dignity themanner of greatness that sat so well on him. His smile was warm for aworld that just now was treating him handsomely. There could be no doubtthat for a first term he was making an extraordinary success of his workin the legislature. He had worked hard on committees and his speecheshad made a tremendous hit. Jeff had played him up strong in the worldtoo, so that he was becoming well known over the state. That he hadrisen to leadership of the progressives in the House during his firstterm showed his quality. His ambition vaulted. Now that his feet wereon the first rungs of the ladder it would be his own fault if he did notreach the top. His progress down the busy street was in the nature of an ovation. Everywhere he met answering smiles that told of the people's pride intheir young champion. Already James had discovered that Americansare eager for hero worship. He meant to be the hero of his state, thefavorite son it would delight to honor. This was what he loved: thecheers for the victor, not the clash of the battle. "Good morning, Farnum. What are the prospects?" It was Clinton Rogers, of the big shipbuilding firm Harvey & Rogers, that stopped him now. "Still anybody's fight, Mr. Rogers. " The young lawyer's voice fell anote to take on a frankly confidential tone, an accent of friendlinessthat missed the fatal buttonholing familiarity of the professionalpolitician. "If we can hold our fellows together we'll win. But theTranscontinental is bidding high for votes--and there's always a quittersomewhere. " "Does Frome stand any chance?" "It will be Hardy or Frome. The least break in our ranks will be thesignal for a stampede to P. C. The Republicans will support him whenthey get the signal. It's all a question of our fellows standing pat. " "From what I can learn it won't be your fault if Hardy isn't elected. Icongratulate you on the best record ever made by a member in his firstterm. " "Oh, we all do our best, " James answered lightly. "But I'm grateful foryour good opinion. I hope I deserve it. " James could afford to be modest about his achievements so long as Jeffwas shouting his praises through the columns of the _World_ to a hundredthousand readers of that paper. What the shipbuilder had said pleasedhim mightily. For Clinton Rogers was one of the few substantial moneyedmen of Verden who had joined the reform movement. Not a single member ofthe Verden Club, with the exception of Rogers, was lined up with thosemaking the fight for direct legislation. Even those who had no financialinterest in the Transcontinental or the public utility corporationssupported that side from principle. James himself had thought a long time before casting in his lot with theinsurgents led by his cousin. He had made tentative approaches bothto Frome and to Edward B. Merrill. Both of these gentlemen had beenfriendly enough, but James had made up his mind they undervalued hisworth. The way to convince them of this was to take the field againstthem. He smiled now as he swung along the avenue. Both Frome and Merrill--yes, and Big Tim too, for that matter!--knew by this time whether they hadmade a mistake in sizing him up as a raw college boy with his eye teethnot cut. A passing electric containing two young women brought his gloved hand tohis hat. The long slant eyes of the lady on the farther side swepthim indolently. In answer to her murmured suggestion the girl who wasdriving brought the machine round in a half circle which ended at theedge of the curb in front of Farnum. The lawyer's hat came off again with easy grace. The slim young driverleaned back against the cushions and merely smiled a greeting, tacitlyyielding command of the situation to her cousin, an opulent young widowadorned demurely with that artistic touch of mourning that suggests agrief not inconsolable. "Good morning, Miss Frome--Mrs. Van Tyle, " James distributed impartiallybefore turning to the latter lady. "Isn't this a day to be alive in? Whosays it always rains in Verden?" "I do--or nearly always. At least it finds no difficulty in giving agood imitation, " returned the young woman addressed. "A libel--I vow a libel, " Farnum retorted gaily. "I was just going tohope you might be tempted to forget New York and Vienna and Paris topay us a long visit. We're all hoping it. I'm merely the spokesman. " Hewaved a hand to indicate the busy street black with humanity. A hint of pleasant adventure quickened the eyes of the young widow whosurveyed lazily his well-groomed good looks. She judged him a twentiethcentury American emerging from straightened circumstances and eager totrample even the memory of it under foot. "Did the Chamber of Commerce appoint you a committee to hope that Iwould impose on my relatives longer? Or was it resoluted at a massmeeting?" she asked with her Mona Lisa smile. He laughed. "Well, no! I'm a self-appointed committee voicing a personaldesire that has universal application. But if it would have more weightwith you I'll have the Chamber take it up and get myself an accreditedrepresentative. " "So kind of you. But do you think the committee could do itself justiceon the street curb?" She had among other sensuous charms a voice attuned to convey slightestshades of meaning. James caught her half-shuttered smoldering glance anddivined her a woman subtle and complex, capable of playing the world-oldgame of the sexes with unusual dexterity. The hint of challengingmystery in the tawny depths of the mocking eyes fired his imagination. She was to him a new find in women, one altogether different fromthose he had known. He had a curiosity to meet at close range thiscosmopolitan heiress of such cultivation as Joe Powers' millions couldpurchase. What Verden said of her he knew: that she was too free, too scornful, too independent of conventions. All the tabby cats whispered it toeach other with lifted eyebrows that suggested volumes, the while theycourted her eager and unashamed. But he had a feeling that perhapsVerden was not competent to judge. The standards of this town and ofNew York were probably vastly different. James welcomed the chance toenlarge his social experience. Promptly he accepted the lead offered. "I'm sure it can't. To present the evidence cogently will take at leasttwo hours. May I make the argument this evening, if it please the court, during a call?" "But I understood you were too busy saving the state--from my father andmy uncle by the way--to have time for a mere woman, " she parried. The good humor of her irony flattered him because it implied that sheoffered him a chance to cultivate her--he was not at all sure how muchor how little that might mean--regardless of his political affiliations. Not many women were logical enough to accept so impersonally hisopposition to the candidacy of an uncle and the plans of a father. "I AMbusy, " he admitted, "but I need a few hours' relaxation. It will help meto work more effectively to-morrow--against your father and your uncle, "he came back with a smile that included them both. Alice Frome took up the challenge gaily. "We're going to beat you. Father will be elected. " "Then I'll be the first to congratulate him, " he promised. Turning toMrs. Van Tyle, "Shall we say this evening?" he added. "You're not afraid to venture yourself into the hands of the enemy, "drawled that young woman, her indolent eyes daring him. Again he studiously included them both in his answer. "I'm afraid allright, but I'm not going to let you know it. Did I hear you set a time?" "If you are really willing to take the risk we shall be glad to see youthis afternoon. " James observed that Alice Frome did not second her cousin's invitation. He temporized. "Oh, this afternoon! I have an engagement, but I am tempted to forget itin remembering a subsequent one. " His smiling gaze passed to Alice and gave her another chance. Still shedid not speak. "The way to treat a temptation is to yield to it, " the older cousinsparkled. "In order to be done with it, I suppose. Very well. I yield to mine. This afternoon I will have the pleasure of calling at The Brakes. " Alice nodded a curt good-bye, but her cousin offered him a beautifullygloved hand to shake. A delightful tingle of triumph warmed him. Thedaughter of Big Joe Powers, the grim gray pirate who worked the leversof the great Transcontinental Railroad system, had taken pains to benice to him. The only fly in the ointment of his self-satisfaction hadbeen Alice Frome's reticence. Why had she not shown any desire to have him call? He could guess at onereason. The campaign for the legislature and the subsequent battle forthe senatorship had been bitter. Charges of corruption had been flungbroadcast. A dozen detectives had been hired to get evidence on one sideor the other. If he were seen going to The Brakes just now fifty rumorsmight be flying inside of the hour. His guess was a good one. Alice drove the car forward several blockswithout speaking, Valencia Van Tyle watching with good-humored contemptthe little frown that rested on her cousin's candid face. "I perceive that my uncompromising cousin is moved to protest, " shesuggested placidly. "You ought not to have asked him, Val. It isn't fair to him or tofather, " answered Alice promptly. "People will talk. They will sayfather is trying to influence him unfairly. I wish you hadn't asked himtill this fight is over. " "My dear Nora, does it matter in the least what people say?" yawnedValencia behind her hand. "Not to you because you consider yourself above criticism. But itmatters to me that two honest men should be brought into unjust obloquywithout cause. " "My dear Hothead, they are big enough to look out for themselves. " "Nobody is big enough to kill slander. " "Nonsense, child. You make a mountain out of a mole hill. People WILLgossip. It really isn't of the least importance what they gabble about. " "Especially when you want to amuse yourself by making a fool of Mr. Farnum, " retorted the downright Alice with a touch of asperity. Valencia already half regretted having asked him. The chances werethat he would prove a bore. But she did not choose to say so. "If I'mtreading on your preserves, dear, " she ventured sweetly. "That's ridiculous, " flushed Alice. "I only suggested that you wait tillafter the election before chaining him to your chariot wheels. " "You're certainly an _enfant terrible_, my dear, " murmured the widow, with the little rippling laugh of cynicism her cousin found so annoying. "But that young man does need a lesson. He's eaten up with conceit ofhimself. Somebody ought to take him in hand. " "So you're going to sacrifice yourself to duty, " scoffed Alice as shebrought the electric to a stop under the porte-cochere of the Fromeresidence. Mrs. Van Tyle folded her hands demurely. "It's sweet of you to see itthat way, Alice. " Part 2 James turned in at the Century Building. In the elevator he met hiscousin. Both of them were bound for the office of the candidate beingsupported by the progressives for the Senate. "Anything new?" Jeff asked. "A rumor that Killen has fallen by the wayside. Big Tim was with him foran hour last night at the Pacific. " "I've not been sure of Killen for quite a while. He's a weak sister. " "He'd better not go wrong if he expects to keep on living in thisstate, " James imparted, a hard light in his eyes. At the third floor they left the elevator and turned to the right underan arch bearing the sign Hardy, Elliott & Carson. Without knocking theypassed into Hardy's private office. Of the three men they found there it was plain that one was being pusheddoggedly to bay. He was small and insignificant, with weak blinkingeyes. Standing with his back to the wall, he moistened his lips with thetip of his tongue. "Who says it?" he whined shrilly. "Who says I sold out?" An apoplectic, bull-necked ruffian stood directly in front of him andsawed the air violently with a fat forefinger. "I ain't sayin' it, Killen--I'm askin' if you have. What I say is thatyou'd better make your will before you vote for Frome. Make 'em pay fat, for by thunder! you'll be political junk, Mr. Sam Killen. " Killen, sweating agony, turned appealingly to Jeff. "I haven't said Iwas going to vote for Frome. Mr. Rawson's got no right to bulldoze meand I'm not going to stand it. " "The hell you ain't, " roared Rawson, shaking his fist at the unhappylegislator. "I guess you'll stand the gaff till you explain. " "Just a moment, Bob, " interrupted Jeff. "Let's get at the facts. Don'tconvict the prisoner till the evidence is in. " Rawson hobbled his wrath for the moment. "That's all right, Jeff. Youask Hardy. I'm giving you straight goods. " The keen-eyed, smooth-shaven man in a gray business suit who had beenlistening silently to the gathering storm contributed informationbriefly and impartially. "Mr. Killen spent an hour last night with Big Tim at the Pacific Hotel. " "Sneaked in by the side entrance and took the elevator to the seventhfloor. The deal was arranged in Room 743, " added Rawson. "You spied on me, " burst from Killen's lips. "Sure thing. And we caught you with the goods, " sneered the red-facedpolitician. "I'll not stand it. I'll not support a man that won't trust me. " "You won't, eh?" Rawson was across the floor in two jumps, worrying hisvictim as a terrier does a rat. "Forget it. You were elected to supportR. K. Hardy, sewed up with a pledge tight and fast. We're not in theprimer class, Killen. Don't get a notion you're going to do as you damnplease. You'll--vote--for--R. --K. --Hardy. Get that?" "I refuse to be moved by threats, and I decline to discuss the matterfurther, " retorted Killen with a pitiable attempt at dignity. Rawson laughed with insulting menace. "That's a good one. I've sold out, but it's none of your business what I got. That what you mean?" "You surely must recognize our right to an explanation, Killen, " Jeffsaid gently. "No, sir, I don't, " flushed the little man with sullen bravado. "I ain'tgot a thing against you, but Rawson goes too far. " "I think he does, " Jeff agreed. "Killen is all right. Gentlemen, supposeyou let him and me talk it over alone. We can reach an agreement that issatisfactory. " Hardy's face cleared. This was not the first waverer Jeff had broughtback into line, not the first by several. There was something compellingin his friendly smile and affectionate manner. "I'm sure Mr. Killen intends only what is right. I'm content to leavethe matter entirely with you and him, " Hardy said. Jeff turned to Rawson. "And you, old warhorse?" "Have it your own way, but don't forget there's a nigger in thewoodpile. " Jeff and Killen walked to the office of the latter, which was on thenext floor of the Century Building, the legislator stiffening his willto resist the assaults he felt would be made upon it. But as soon as thedoor was shut Jeff surprised him by laying a hand on his shoulder. "Tell me all about it, Sam. " Killen gasped. He got an impossible vision of young Farnum as hisbrother in trouble. "About what? I didn't say--" "I've known for a week something was wrong. I couldn't very well askyou, but since I've blundered in you'd better let me help you if I can. " Killen was touched. His lip trembled. "It don't do any good to talkabout things. I guess a fellow has to carry his own griefs. Nobody elseis hunting for a chance to invest in them. " "What's a friend for?" Jeff wanted to know gently. The little man gulped. "I guess I've got no friends. Anyhow they don'tcount when a fellow's in hard luck. It's every man for himself. " The younger man's smile was warm as summer sunshine. "Wrong guess, Sam. We're in this little old world to help each other when we can. " The wretched man drew the back of a trembling hand across his moisteyes. He inhaled a long sobbing breath and broke into apology for hisweakness. "Haven't slept for a week except from trional. The back of myhead pricks day and night. Can't think of anything but my troubles. " "Unload them on me, " Jeff said lightly. "It's that mortgage on my mill, " Killen blurted out. "It falls due thismonth and I can't meet it. Things haven't been going well with me. " "Can't you get it renewed?" "Through a dummy Big Tim has bought it up. He won't renew, unless--"Killen broke off, to continue in a moment: "And that ain't all. Mylittle girl needs an operation awful badly. The doctor says she hadought to go to Chicago. I just can't raise the price. " "How much is the mortgage?" "Three thousand, " replied the man; and he added with a gust of weakdespair, "My God, man! That mill's all I've got to keep bread in themouths of my motherless children. " "I reckon Big Tim has offered to cancel the mortgage notes and give youabout a thousand to go on, " Jeff suggested casually. Killen nodded. "It would put me on my feet again and give the kiddie herchance. " The answer had slipped out naturally, but now the fear chilledhim that he had been lured into making a confession. "I didn't say I wasgoing to take it, " he added hastily. "You're quite safe with me, Killen, " Jeff told him. He was wonderingwhether he could not get Captain Chunn to take over the mortgage. "I'm not so much struck on Hardy myself, " grumbled the legislator. "He'sa rich man, just as Frome is. Six of one and half a dozen of the other, looks like to me. " "No, Killen. Frome represents the Transcontinental and the utilitycorporations. Hardy stands for the people. And you're pledged to supportHardy. You mustn't forget that. " "I ain't likely to forget that mortgage either, " Killen came backdrearily. "I think I can arrange about having the mortgage renewed. Will that do?" "Yes. We're going to have a good year in the lumber business. Probablyin twelve months I could clear it off. " "Good! And about the little girl--she'll have her chance. I promise youthat. " The mill man wrung his hand, tears in his eyes. "You're a white man, Jeff, and a dashed good friend. I tell you I'd hate like poison to goback on Hardy. A fellow can't afford to do a thing like that. But whatelse could I do? A fellow's got to stand by the children he brings intothe world, ain't he?" Farnum evaded with a smile this discussion of moral issues. "Well, youcan stand by them and us, too, if I can fix up this mortgage propositionfor you. " "When will you let me know?" asked Killen anxiously. "Will to-morrow morning do? In James' office, say. " "I'll have to know before noon, " Killen reminded him, flushing withembarrassment. "If I can arrange to get the money--and I think I can--I'll let you knowat eleven. Don't worry, Sam. It will be all right. " The legislator shook hands again. "I ain't going to forget what you'redoing for me. No, sir!" Jeff laughed his thanks easily. "That's all right. I reckon you wouldhave done as much for me. Sam Killen isn't the man to throw his friendsdown. " "That's right, " returned the other with a sudden valiant infusionof courage. "I stand pat. I'm not going to lie down before theTranscontinental. Not on your life, I ain't. " They were walking toward the outer door as Killen's speech overflowed. "The Transcontinental doesn't own this state yet. No, sir! Nor Frome andMerrill either. We'll show 'em--" The valor of the big voice collapsed like a rent balloon. For the officedoor had opened to let in Big Tim O'Brien. His shrewd eyes passed withwhimsical disgust over Killen and rested on Farnum. The situation made for amusement, since Jeff knew that Big Tim had heardover the transom enough to show that Killen's vote had been recapturedfor Hardy. "You've stumbled on a red hot Hardy ratification meeting. Did you cometo get into the bandwagon while there is time, Tim?" Jeff asked withtwinkling eyes. "No sinking ship for mine. I guess I wouldn't ratify yet a while if Iwere youse, Farnum. " He stood aside to let the editor of the _World_ pass. Jeff laughed. "Goto it, Tim. " "I haven't got anything to say to you, Mr. O'Brien, " the mill manannounced with heightened color. "Maybe I've got something to say to youse, Mr. Killen. " Jeff passed out smiling. "Well, I'll not interrupt you. See youto-morrow, Sam. " Big Tim sat down heavily in a chair and pulled from his vest pocket afat black cigar. "Smoke, Killen?" "No, thanks. " The legislator spoke with stiff dignity. Big Tim looked at the other man and his paunch shook with the merrimentthat appeared to convulse him. "What's the matter?" snapped the mill man. "I'm laughin' at the things I see, Killen. Man, but you're an easymar-rk. " "How?" "Can't you see they're stringin' youse for a sucker?" "No, I can't see it. I've made up my mind. I'm going to stand by Hardy. " "Fine! Now I'll tell youse one thing. We're goin' to elect Frometo-morrow. " O'Brien rose as one who has no time for unprofitable talk. "Your friends have sold youse out. I'm going to call on one of thimright now. " "I don't believe it. " "Of course you don't. " Tim's projecting balcony shook with the humorof it. "But you'll be convinced when they take your mill from youse, meboy. It's a frame-up--and you're the goat. " With which shot he took his departure, too shrewd to attempt anyargument. He had left behind him a doubt. That was all he could do justnow. Before Tim was out of the building Killen was gumshoeing after him. Hemeant to find out whether O'Brien had been lying when he said he wasgoing to call on one of his friends. Fifty yards behind him Killenfollowed, along Powers Avenue, down Pacific Street, to the EquitableBuilding. From the pilot of one of the elevators he learned that thebig boss had got off at the seventh floor and gone straight into JamesFarnum's office. His mind was instantly alive with suspicions tumbling over each otherin chaotic incoherency. There was a deal of some kind on foot. Jeff'scousin was in it. Then Jeff must be playing him for a sucker. His teethset with a snap. Meanwhile Big Tim was having a heart to heart talk with James K. Farnum. The young lawyer had risen in surprise at the entrance of O'Brien. Thebig fellow, laughing easily, had helped himself to a chair. "Make yourself at home, Tim, " he said jauntily. "Anything I can do for you, Mr. O'Brien?" James asked with stiffdignity. "Sure. Or I wouldn't be here. Sit down. I'll not bite ye. " The lawyer continued to stand. "I've come to tell you that I'm a dammed fool, Mr. Farnum, " the bossgrinned. James bowed slightly. He did not know what was coming, but he had nointention of committing himself to anything as yet. "In ever lettin' youse get away from me. I mistook yez for a kid glove. " Big Tim gazed with palpable admiration at the cleancut figure, at thesquare cleft chin in the strong handsome face. It was his opinion thisyoung man would go far, and that every step of the way would be in theinterests of James K. Farnum. Shrewdly he guessed that the way topierce that impassive front was through an appeal to vanity and toselfinterest. James waited, alert and expressionless, but O'Brien, having made hisapology, puffed in silence. "I think you suggested some business that brought you, " James remindedhim. "You've got in you the makings of a big man. Nothing on the coast totouch youse, Mr. Farnum. And I didn't see it. I was sore on your name. That was what was bitin' me. It's sure on Big Tim this time. " None of the triumph that flooded Farnum reached the surface. "I think I don't quite understand, " he said quietly. "I'm eatin' humble pie because youse slipped wan over on me. You're thebest campaign speaker in the state, bar none, boy as you are. " James could not keep his gratified smile down. "This heart-felttestimonial comes free, I take it, " he pretended to mock. "Come off with youse, " O'Brien flung back good humoredly. "I'm not hereto hand you booquets, but to talk business. Here's the nub of it, meboy. You need me, and I need you. " "I don't quite see how I need you, Mr. O'Brien. " "That's because you're young yet and don't know the game. Let me tellyou this. " The boss leaned forward, his hard eyes focused on Farnum. "You'll never get anywhere so long as youse trail with that reformbunch. It's all hot air and tomfool theory. Populism and socialism! Takemy wor-rd for it, there's nothin' to 'em. " "I'm neither a populist nor a socialist, Mr. O'Brien. " "Coorse you're not. I can see that with wan eye shut. That's why I hateto see youse ruin yourself with them that are. I've no need to tellyou that this country's run by business men and not cranks. Me, I'm abusiness man, and I run the city. P. C. Frome's a business man; so'sMerrill. That's why they're on top. Old Joe Powers is a business manfrom first to last. You'll never get anywhere, me boy, until youse lookat things from a business point of view. " If James was impressed he gave no sign of it. "Which means you want meto support P. C. For the Senate. Is that it?" "I don't care whether you do or don't. We've got this fight won. Butthis is only the beginning. I can see that. Agitators and troublebreeders are busy iverywhere. Line up right and you've got a big futurebefore you. Joe Powers himself has noticed your speeches. P. C. Told methat last night. " For a moment the lawyer felt an exultant paeon of victory beat in hisblood. His imagination saw the primrose path of the future stretchbefore him in a golden glow. The surge of triumph passed and he washimself again, cool and wary. His eyes met Big Tim's full and straight. "I was elected to support Hardy. I expect to stay with him. " The political boss waved aside this declaration. "Sure. Of course you'vegot to VOTE for him. I've got too much horse sense to try to buy YOU. But after this election? Your whole future's not tied up with foolreformers, is it? Say, what's the matter with you havin' a talk with P. C. ?" "Oh, I'll talk with him. P. C. And I are good friends. " "When can you see him? Why not to-night?" "No hurry, is there?" James paused an instant before he added: "I'mgoing to The Brakes this afternoon on a social call. If Frome happensto be at home we might talk then. So far as making a direct appointmentwith him, I wouldn't care to do that until the senatorial election isdecided. You understand that I pledge myself to nothing. " "That's right, " agreed Big Tim. "It don't do any harm to hear both sidesof a proposition. I guess that cousin o' yours kind of hypnotized you. He's got more fool schemes for redeemin' this state. Far as I can see itdon't need any redeemin'. It's loaded to the rails with prosperity andclippin' off its sixty miles an hour. I say, let well enough alone. Where youse keep your matches, Mr. Farnum? Thanks! Well, talk it overwith P. C. I reckon you can get together. So long, me boy. " Not until he was safe in the street did the big boss of Verden allow hissatisfaction expression. "We've got him! We've got the boob hooked!" he told himself exultantly. A little man standing behind a showcase was watching him tensely. CHAPTER 9 "Man is for woman made, And woman made for man As the spur is for the jade, As the scabbard for the blade, As for liquor is the can, So man's for woman made, And woman made for man. " THE HERO STUDIES THE MONA LISA SMILE IN ITS PROPER SETTING. INCIDENTALLY, HE MEETS AN EMPIRE BUILDER Since James was not courting observation he took as inconspicuous a wayas possible to The Brakes. He was irritably conscious of the incongruityof his elaborate afternoon dress with the habits of democratic Verden, which had been too busy "boosting" itself into a great city, or at leastone in the making, to have found time to establish as yet a leisureclass. Leaving the car at the entrance to Lakeview Park, he cut across it bysinuous byways where madronas and alders isolated him from the twilitgreen of the open lawn. Though it was still early the soft winter duskof the Pacific Northwest was beginning to render objects indistinct. This perhaps may have been the reason he failed to notice the skulkingfigure among the trees that dogged him to his destination. James laughed at himself for the exaggerated precaution he took to covera perfectly defensible action. Why shouldn't he visit at the house of P. C. Frome? Entirely clear as to his right, he yet preferred his call notto become a matter of public gossip. For he did not need to be told thatthere would be ugly rumors if it should get out that Big Tim had calledat his office for a conference and he had subsequently been seen goingto The Brakes. Dunderheads not broad enough to separate social frompolitical intercourse would be quick to talk unpleasantly about it. Deflecting from the path into a carriage driveway, he came througha woody hollow to the rear of The Brakes. The grounds were spacious, rolling toward the road beyond in a falling sweep of well-kept lawn. Heskirted the green till he came to a "raveled walk" that zig-zagged upthrough the grass, leaving to the left the rough fern-clad bluff thatgave the place its name. The man who let him in had apparently received his instructions, forhe led Farnum to a rather small room in the rear of the big house. Itssingle occupant was reclining luxuriantly among a number of pillows ona lounge. From her lips a tiny spiral of smoke rose like incense to theceiling. James was conscious of a little ripple of surprise as he lookeddown upon the copper crown of splendid hair above which rested the thinnimbus of smoke. He had expected a less intimate reception. But the astonishment had been sponged from his face before Valencia VanTyle rose and came forward, cigarette in hand. "You did find time. " "Was it likely I wouldn't?" "How should I know?" her little shrug seemed to say with an indifferencethat bordered on insolence. James was piqued. After all then she had not opened to him the door toher friendship. She was merely amusing herself with him as a provincial_pis aller. _ Perhaps she saw his disappointment, for she added with a touch ofwarmth: "I'm glad you came. Truth is, I'm bored to death of myself. " "Then I ought to be welcome, for if I don't exorcise the devils of ennuiyou can now blame me. " "I shall. Try that big chair, and one of these Egyptians. " He helped himself to a cigarette and lit up as casually as if he hadbeen in the habit of smoking in the lounging rooms of the ladies heknew. She watched him sink lazily into the chair and let his glancego wandering over the room. In his face she read the indolent senseof pleasure he found in sharing so intimately this sanctum of her morepersonal life. The room was a bit barbaric in its warmth of color, as barbaric as wasthe young woman herself in spite of her super-civilization. The walls, done in an old rose, were gilded and festooned to meet a ceiling almostVenetian in its scheme of decoration. Pink predominated in the brocadedtapestries and in the rugs, and the furniture was a luxurious moderncompromise with the Louis Quinze. There were flowers in profusion--hisgaze fell upon the American Beauties he had sent an hour or two ago--anda disorder of popular magazines and French novels. Farnum did not needto be told that the room was as much an exotic as its mistress. "You think?" her amused voice demanded when his eyes came back to her. "that the room seems made especially for you. " She volunteered information. "My uncle gave me a free hand to arrangeand decorate it. " As he looked at her, smoking daintily in the fling of the fire glow, every inch the pampered heiress of the ages, his blood quickened toan appreciation of the sensuous charm of sex she breathed forth soindifferently. The clinging crepe-de-chine--except in public she didnot pretend even to a conventional mourning for the scamp whose name shebore lent accent to her soft, rounded curves, and the slow, regularrise and fall of her breathing beneath the filmy lace promised a perfectfullness of bust and throat. He was keenly responsive to the physicalallure of sex, and Valencia Van Tyle was endowed with more than hershare of magnetic aura. "You have expressed yourself. It's like you, " he said with finality. Her tawny eyes met his confident appraisal ironically. "Indeed! You knowthen what I am like?" "One uses his eyes, and such brains as heaven has granted him, " heventured lightly. "And what am I like?" she asked indolently. "I'm hoping to know that better soon--I merely guess now. " "They say all women are egoists--and some men. " She breathed her softinscrutable ripple of laughter. "Let me hasten to confess, and crave apicture of myself. " "But the subject deserves an artist, " he parried. "He's afraid, " she murmured to the fire. "He makes and unmakessenators--this Warwick; but he's afraid of a girl. " James lit a fresh cigarette in smiling silence. "He has met me once--twice--no, three times, " she meditated aloud. "Buthe knows what I'm like. He boasts of his divination and when one putshim to the test he repudiates. " "All I should have claimed is that I know I don't know what you arelike. " "Which is something, " she conceded. "It's a good deal, " he claimed for himself. "It shows a beginning ofunderstanding. And--given the opportunity--I hope to know more. " Hequestioned of her eyes how far he might go. "It's the incomprehensiblethat lures. It piques interest and lends magic. Behind those eyelids alittle weary all the subtle hidden meaning of the ages shadows. The godsforbid that I should claim to hold the answer to the eternal mystery ofwoman. " "Dear me! I ask for a photograph and he gives me a poem, " she mocked, touching an electric button. "I try merely to interpret the poem. " She looked at him under lowered lids with a growing interest. Herexperience had not warranted her in hoping that he would prove worthwhile. It would be clear gain if he were to disappoint her agreeably. "I think I have read somewhere that the function of present-daycriticism is to befog the mind and blur the object criticised. " He considered an answer, but gave it up when a maid appeared with atray, and after a minute of deft arrangement disappeared to returnwith the added paraphernalia that goes to the making and consuming ofafternoon tea. James watched in a pleasant content the easy grace with which theflashing hands of his hostess manipulated the brew. Presently she flungopen a wing of the elaborate cellaret that stood near and disclosed agleaming array of cut-glass decanters. Her fingers hovered over them. "Cognac?" "Think I'll take my tea straight just as you make it. " "Most Western men don't care for afternoon tea. You should hear myfather on the subject. " "I can imagine him. " He smiled. "But if he has tried it with you Ishould think he'd be converted. " She laughed at him in the slow tantalizing way that might mean anythingor nothing. "I absolve you of the necessity of saying pretty things. Instead, you may continue that portrait you were drawing when the maidinterrupted. " "It's a subject I can't do justice. " She laughed disdainfully. "I thought it was time for the flattery. Asif I couldn't extort that from any man. It's the A B C of our education. But the truth about one's self--the unpalatable, bitter truth--there's asting of unexpected pleasure in hearing that judicially. " "And do you get that pleasure often?" "Not often. Men are dreadful cowards, you know. My father is about theonly man who dares tell it to me. " Farnum put down his cup and studied her. She was leaning back with herfingers laced behind her head. He wondered whether she knew with whateffectiveness the posture set off her ripe charms--the fine modeling ofthe full white throat, the perfect curves of the dainty arms bare to theelbows, the daring set of the tawny, tilted head. A spark glowed in hiseyes. "Far be it from me to deny you an accessible pleasure, though Isacrifice myself to give it. But my sketch must be merely subjective. Idraw the picture as I see it. " She sipped her tea with an air of considering the matter. "You promiseat least a family likeness, with not an ugly wrinkle of charactersmoothed away. " "I don't even promise that. For how am I to know what meaning lurksbehind that subtle, shadowy smile? There's irony in it--and scorn--andsensuous charm--but back of them all is the great enigma. " "He's off, " she derided slangily. "And that enigma is the complex YOU I want to learn. Of course you're aspecialized type, a product of artistic hothouse propagation. You'reso exquisite in your fastidiousness that to be near you is a luxury. Simplicity and you have not a bowing acquaintance. One looks to see yourmost casual act freighted with intentions not obvious. " "The poor man thinks I invited him here to propose to him, " she told thefire gravely, stretching out her little slippered feet toward it. He laughed. "I'm not so presumptuous. You wouldn't aim at such smallgame. You would be quite capable of it if you wanted to, but you don't. But I'm devoured with curiosity to know why you asked me, though ofcourse I shan't find out. " Her narrowed eyes swept him with amusement. "If I knew myself! Alicesays it was to make a fool of you. I don't think she is right. Butif she is I'm in to score a failure. You're too coolheaded and--" Shestopped, her eyes sparkling with the daring of her unvoiced suggestion. "Say it, " he nodded. "--and selfish to be anybody's fool. Perhaps I asked you just in thehope you might prove interesting. " He got up and stood with his arm on the mantel. From his superior heighthe looked down on her dainty insolent perfection, answering not tooseriously the challenge of her eyes. No matter what she meant--how muchor how little she was wonderfully attractive. The provocation of themocking little face lured mightily. "I am going to prove interested at any rate. Let's hope it may be apreliminary to being interesting. " "But it never does. Symptoms of too great interest bore one. I enjoymore the men who are impervious to me. Now there's my father. He comesnearer understanding me than anybody else, but he's quite adamantine tomy wiles. " "I shall order a suit of chain armor at once. " "An unnecessary expense. Your emotions are quite under control, " shetold him saucily. "I wish I were as sure. " "I thought you promised to be interesting, " she complained. "Now you're afraid I'm going to make love to you. Let me relieve yourmind. I'm not. " "I knew you wouldn't be so stupid, " she assured him. "No objection to my admiring your artistic effect at a distance, as aspectator in a gallery?" "I shall expect that, " she rippled. "Just as one does a picture too expensive to own. " "I suppose I AM expensive. " "Not a doubt of it. But if you don't mind I'll come occasionally to thegallery to study the masterpiece. " "I'll mind if you don't. " Voices were heard approaching along the hall. The portieres parted. Theimmediate effect on Farnum of the great figure that filled the doorwaywas one of masterful authority. A massive head crested a figure ofextraordinary power. Gray as a mediaeval castle, age had not yet touchedhis gnarled strength. The keen steady eyes, the close straight lips, theshaggy eyebrows heavy and overhanging, gave accent to the rugged forceof this grim freebooter who had reversed the law of nature which decreesthat railroads shall follow civilization. Scorning the establishedrule of progress, he had spiked his rails through untrodden forests andunexplored canons to watch the pioneer come after by the road he hadblazed. Chief among the makers of the Northwest, he yearly conceivedand executed with amazing audacity enterprises that would have marked asmonumental the life work of lesser men. Farnum, rising from his seat unconsciously as a tribute of respect, acknowledged thus tacitly the presence of greatness in the person of JoePowers. The straight lips of the empire builder tightened as his eyes gleamedover the soft luxury of his daughter's boudoir. James would have beenhard put to it to conceive any contrast greater than the one betweenthis modern berserk and the pampered daughter of his wealth. A Hun ora Vandal gazing down with barbaric scorn on some decadent paramour ofcaptured Rome was the most analogous simile Farnum's brain could summon. What freak of nature, he wondered, had been responsible for so alien anoffspring to this ruthless builder? And what under heaven had the two incommon except the blood that ran in both their veins? Peter C. Frome, who had followed his brother-in-law into the room, introduced the young man to the railroad king. The great man's grip drove the blood from Farnum's hand. "I've heard about you, young man. What do you mean by getting in myway?" The young man's veins glowed. He had made Joe Powers notice him. Notfor worlds would he have winked an eyelash, though the bones of his handfelt as if they were being ground to powder. "Do I get in your way, sir?" he asked innocently. "Do you?" boomed the deep bass of the railroader. "You and that madbrother of yours. " "He's my cousin, " James explained. "Brother or cousin, he's got to get off the track or be run over. Andyou, too, with that smooth tongue of yours. " Farnum laughed. "Jeff's pretty solid. He may ditch the train, sir. " "No!" roared Powers. "He'll be flung into the ditch. " He turned abruptlyto Frome. "Peter, take me to a room where I can talk to this young man. I need him. " "'Come into my little parlor, ' said the spider to the fly. " They wheeled as at a common rein to the sound of the young mockingvoice. Alice Frome had come in unnoticed and was standing in the doorwaysmiling at them. The effect she produced was demurely daring. The longlines of her slender sylph-like body, the girlishness of her goldencharm, were vigorously contradicted in their suggestion of shyness bythe square tilted chin and the challenge in the dancing eyes. "Alice, " admonished her father with a deprecatory apology in his voiceto his brother-in-law. Powers knit his shaggy brows in a frown not at all grim. The young womansmiled back confidently. She could go farther with him than anybody elsein the world could, and she knew it. For he recognized in her vigorousstrength of fiber a kinship of the spirit closer than that betweenhim and his own daughter. An autocrat to the marrow, it pleased him torecognize her an exception to his rule. Valencia was also an exception, but in a different way. "Have you any remarks to make, Miss Frome?" he asked. "Oh, I've made it, " returned the girl unabashed. She turned to James andshook hands with him. "How do you do, Mr. Farnum? I see you are going tobe tied to Uncle Joe's kite, too. " Was there in her voice just a hint of scorn? James did not know. Helaughed a little uneasily. "Shall I be swallowed up alive, Miss Frome?" "You think you won't, but you will. He always gets what he wants. " For all the warmth and energy of youth in her there was a vividspiritual quality that had always made a deep appeal to James. He sensedthe something fine and exquisite she breathed forth and did reverence toit. "And what does he want now?" the young man parried. "He wants YOU. " "Unless you would like him yourself, Alice, " her uncle countered. The color washed into her cheeks. "Not just now, thank you. I was merelygiving him a friendly warning. " "I'm awfully obliged to you. I'll be on my guard, " laughed James. He stepped across to the lounge to make his farewell to Mrs. Van Tyle. "You'll come again, " she said in a low voice. "Whenever the gallery is open--if I am sent a ticket of admission. " "Wouldn't it be better to apply for a ticket and not wait for it to besent?" "I think it would--and to apply for one often. " "I am waiting, Mr. Farnum, " interrupted Powers impatiently. To the young man the suggestion sounded like a command. He bowed toAlice and followed the great man out of the room. CHAPTER 10 Many business men of every community are respectable cowards. The sense of property fills them with a cramping timidity. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. SAFE AND SOUND BUSINESS RALLIES TO THE DEFENSE OF THE COUNTRY. THEREBEL, FRUSTRATED, PLANS FURTHER VILLAINIES Part 1 When James reached his office next morning he found Killen waiting forhim. One glance at the weak defiant face told him that the legislatorwas again in revolt. The lawyer felt a surge of disgust sweep over him. All through the session he had cajoled and argued the weak-kneed backinto line. Why didn't Hardy do his own dirty work instead of leaving itto him to soil his hands with these cheap grafters? No longer ago than yesterday it had been a keen pleasure to feel himselfso important a factor in the struggle, to know that his power and hispersonality were of increasing value to his side. But to-day--somehow the salt had gone out of it. The value of the issuehad dwindled, his enthusiasm gone stale. After all, what did it matterwho was elected? Why should not the corporate wealth that was developingthe country see that men were chosen to office who would safeguardvested interests? It was all very well for Jeff to talk about democracyand the rights of the people. But Jeff was an impracticable idealist. He, James, stood for success. Within the past twenty-four hours therehad been something of a shift of standards for him. His visit to The Brakes had done that for him. He craved luxury just ashe did power, and the house on the hill had said the final word of bothto him in the personalities of Joe Powers and his daughter. It had comehome to him that the only way to satisfy his ambition was by makingmoney and a lot of it. This morning, with the sharpness of his hungerrendering him irritable, he was in no mood to conciliate disaffectantsto the cause of which he was himself beginning to weary. "Well?" he demanded sharply of Killen. "I've been looking for your cousin, but I can't find him. He was to havemet me here later. " "Then I presume he'll be here when he said he would. " The eyes of thelawyer were cold and hard as jade. "You can tell him it won't be necessary for me to see him. I've madeother arrangements, " Killen said uneasily. "You mean that you repudiate your agreement with him. Is that it?"Farnum's voice was like a whiplash. "I've decided to support Frome. Fact is--" "Oh, damn the facts! You made an agreement. You're going to sell out. That's all there is to it. " The young man's face was dark with furious disgust. Killen flared up. "You better be careful how you talk to me, Mr. Farnum. I might want to know what Big Tim was doing in your office yesterday. Imight want to know what business took you up to The Brakes by a mightyroundabout way. " James strode forward in a rage. "Get out of here before I throw you out, you little spying blackguard. " "You bet I'll get out, " screamed the mill man. "Get clear out and havenothing more to do with your outfit. But I want to tell you that folkswill talk a lot when they know how you and Big Tim fixed up a deal--"Killen, backing toward the door as he spoke, broke off to hasten hisexit before the lawyer's threatening advance. James slammed the door shut on him and paced up and down in an impotentfury of passion. "The dirty little blackleg! He'd like to bracket me inthe same class as himself. He'd like to imply that I--By Heaven, ifhe opens his lying mouth to a hint of such a thing I'll horsewhip thelittle cad. " But running uneasily through his mind was an undercurrent ofdisgust--with himself, with Jeff, with the whole situation. Why had heever let himself get mixed up with such an outfit? Government by thepeople! The thing was idiotic, mere demagogic cant. Power was to thestrong. He had always known it. But yesterday that old giant at TheBrakes had hammered it home to him. He did not like to admit even tohimself that his folly had betrayed Hardy's cause, but at bottom he knewhe should not have gone to The Brakes until after the election andthat he ought never to have let Killen out of the office without anexplanation. Yesterday he would have won back the man somehow by anappeal to his loyalty and his self-interest. He must send word at once to Jeff and let him try to remedy themischief. His cousin, coming into the office with Rawson just as James took downthe receiver of the telephone, noticed at once the disturbance of thelatter. James told his story. It was clear to him that he must anticipateKillen's disclosure of his visit to The Brakes and so draw the stingfrom it as far as possible. But his natural reluctance to shoulder blamemade him begin with Killen's defection. "I told you to let me deal with the little traitor, " Rawson exploded. "He was quite satisfied when I left him yesterday. They must have gotat him again, " Jeff suggested. "I left O'Brien with him. But I was deadsure of him. " James cleared his throat and began casually. "I expect the little beggargot suspicious when he saw Big Tim coming to my office. " "To your office?" Rawson cut in sharply. The lawyer flushed, but his eyes met and quelled the incipient doubt inthose of the politician. "Yes, he came to feel the ground. Of course Itold him flatly where I stood. But Killen must have thought somethingwas doing he wasn't in on. It seems he followed me to The Brakesyesterday afternoon when I called on Mrs. Van Tyle. " "Followed you to The Brakes. Good Lord!" groaned Rawson. "What in Mexicowere you doing there?" "Thought I mentioned that I was calling on Mrs. Van-Tyle, " returnedJames stiffly. "Wasn't that call a little injudicious under the circumstances, James?"contributed Jeff with his whimsical smile. "I suppose I may call wherever I please. " "It was a piece of dashed foolishness, that's what it was. You sayKillen saw you. The thing will fly like dust in the wind. It will bebuzzed all over the House by this time and every man that wants to sellout will find a reason right there, " stormed Rawson. "Are you implying that I sold out?" demanded James icily. Jeff put a conciliatory hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Of course hedoesn't. He isn't a fool, James. But there's a good deal in what Rawsonsays. It was a mistake. The waverers will find in it their excuse fordeserting. Of course Big Tim has been at them all night. We'll go rightup to the House in your machine, Rawson. We haven't a moment to lose. " Rawson nodded. "It's dollars to doughnuts the thing is past mending, butit's up to us to see. If I can only get at Killen in time I'll choke thestory in his throat. You wait here at the 'phone, Jeff, and I'll callyou up if you're needed at this end of the line. Better have a taxiwaiting below in case you need one. Come along, James. " If he did not get to Killen in time it was not Rawson's fault, for hemade his car flash up and down Verden's hills with no regard to thespeed limit. He swept it along Powers Avenue, dodging in and out amongthe traffic of the busy city like a halfback through a broken fieldafter a kick. With a twist of the wheel he put the machine at the steephill of Yarnell Way, climbed the brow of it, and plunged with a flyingleap down the long incline to the State House. James clung to the swaying side of the car as it raced down. It wasraining hard, and the drops stung their faces like bird shot. Twohundred yards in front appeared a farm wagon, leaped toward them, anddisappeared in the gulf behind. A dog barking at them from the roadsidewas for an instant and then was not. In their wake they left cursingteamsters, frightened horses, women and children scurrying for safety;and in the driver's seat Rawson sat goggle-eyed and rigid, swallowingthe miles that lay in front of him. The car took the last incline superbly and swung up the asphalt carriageway to a Yale finish at the marble stairway of the State House. Rawsonwas running up the steps almost before the machine had stopped. Farnumcaught him at the elevator and a minute later they entered together theassembly room of the House. One swift glance told Rawson that Killen was not in his seat, and ashis eyes swept the room he noted also the absence of Pitts, Bentley, andMiller. Of the doubtful votes only Ashton and Reilly were present. He flung a question, "anything of Bentley, Akers?" "Mr. Bentley! Why, yes, sir. He was called to the telephone a fewminutes ago and he left at once. Mr. Miller went with him, and Mr. Pitts. " "Were Ashton and Reilly here then?" "No, sir. They came in a moment before you did. " Rawson drew Farnum to one side and whispered. "Killen must have gone right from your room to Big Tim. They got theothers on the phone. They must have been on that street car we met amile back. There's just a chance to head 'em off. I'll chase back in mymachine while you call up Jeff and have him meet the car as it comes in. Tell him not to let them out of his sight if he has to hold them with agun. You keep an eye on Reilly and Ashton. Don't let anyone talk to themor get them on the phone. Better take them up to the library. " James nodded sulkily. He did not like Rawson's peremptory manner anythe better because he knew his indiscretion had called it down upon him. What he had been unable to forget for the past hour was that if thisbreak to Frome had happened yesterday it would have been he that gavethe orders and Rawson who jumped to execute them. Now he had slippedback to second place. He caught Jeff on the line and repeated Rawson's orders without commentof his own, after which he went back from the committee room, gatheredup Reilly and Ashton, and took them on a pretext to the library. It must have been nearly an hour later that a messenger boy handed Jamesa note. It was a hasty scribble from Rawson. Euchred, by thunder! Both Jeff and I missed them. Big Tim butted in witha car at Grover Street before we could make connections. Am waitingat the House for them. Don't bring A. & R. In till time to vote. FROMECAN'T WIN IF YOU MAKE THEM BOTH STICK. James stuck the note in his pocket and flung himself with artificialanimation into the story he was telling. Once or twice the otherssuggested a return to the House, but he always had just one more goodstory they must hear. Since only routine business was under way therewas no urgency, and when at length they returned to the House chamberthe clock pointed to five minutes to twelve. Rawson and two or three of the staunchest Hardy men relieved Farnum ofhis charge in the cloak room and took care of the two doubtfuls. Theseats of Bentley, Miller, Pitts and Killen were still vacant, and therewas a tense watchfulness in the room that showed rumors were flying of abreak in the deadlock. Already the state senators were drifting in for the noon joint sessions, and along with them came presently the missing assemblymen flanked byO'Brien and Frome adherents. The President of the Senate called the session to order and announcedthat the eleventh general assembly would now proceed to take thesixty-fourth ballot for the election of a United States Senator. In an oppressive silence the clerk began to call the roll. "Allan. " A raw-boned farmer from one of the coast counties rose and answered"Hardy. " "Anderson. " In broken English a fat Swede shouted, "Harty. " "Ashton. " "Hardy. " The word fell hesitantly from dry lips. The man would havevoted for the Transcontinental candidate had he dared, but he was notsure enough that the crucial moment was at hand and the pressure of hisenvironment was too great. "Bentley. " Three hundred eyes focused expectantly on the gaunt white-facedlegislator who rose nervously at the sound of his name and almostinaudibly gulped the word "Frome. " A fierce tumult of rage and triumph rose and fell and swelled again. Bentley became the center of a struggling vortex of roaring humanity andfound himself tossed hither and thither like a chip in a choppy sea. It was many minutes before the clerk could proceed with the roll-call. When his name was reached James said "Hardy" in a clear distinct voicethat brought from the gallery a round of applause sharply checked by thepresiding officer. Killen gave his vote for Frome tremulously and shrankfrom the storm he had evoked. Rawson could be seen standing on hisseat, one foot on the top of his desk, shaking his fist at him in purpleapoplectic rage, the while his voice rose above the tumult, "You damnedJudas! You damned little traitor!" The presiding officer beat in vain with his gavel for quiet. Not untilthey had worn themselves to momentary exhaustion could the roll-call becontinued. Miller and Pitts voted for Frome and stirred renewed shouts of supportand execration. "Takes one more change to elect Frome. All depends on Reilly now, "Rawson whispered hoarsely to Jeff. "If he sticks we're safe for anothertwenty-four hours. " But Reilly, knowing the decisive moment had come, voted for Frome andgave him the one more needed to elect. Pandemonium was loose at once. The Transcontinental forces surrounded him and fought off the excitedmen he had betrayed who tried to get at him to make him change his vote. The culminating moment of months of battle had come and mature mengave themselves to the abandon of the moment like college boys after afootball game. When at last the storm had subsided Ashton, who had seen severalthousand dollars go glimmering because his initial came at the beginningof the alphabet instead of at the close, in the hope of still gettinginto the bandwagon in time moved to make the election unanimous. Hissuggestion was rejected with hoots of derision, and Frome made theconventional speech of acceptance to a House divided against itself. Jeff joined his cousin as he was descending the steps to the lower hall. "Don't blame yourself, old man. It would have happened anyhow in a dayor two. They were looking for a chance to desert. We couldn't have heldthem. Better luck next time. " James found cold comfort in such consolation. He was dissatisfied withthe part he had played in the final drama. Instead of being the heroof the hour, he was the unfortunate whose blunder had started theavalanche. Yet he was gratified when Rawson said in effect the samething as Jeff. "And I'm going to have the pleasure of telling that damned little Killenwhat I think of him, " the politician added with savage satisfaction. "Don't blame him. He's only a victim. What we must do is to change thesystem that makes it possible to defeat the will of the people throughmoney, " Jeff said. "How are you going about it?" Rawson demanded incredulously. "We'll go after the initiative and referendum right now while the peopleare stirred up about this treachery. The very men who threw us down willsupport us to try and square themselves. The bill will slip through asif it were oiled, " Jeff prophesied. "Oh, hang your initiative and referendum. I'm a politician, not asocialist reformer, " grinned Rawson. James said nothing. Part 2 If the years were bringing Jeff a sharper realization of the forces thatcontrol so much of life they were giving him too the mellowness thatcan be in revolt without any surrender of faith in men. He could forinstance now look back on his college days and appreciate the kindnessand the patience of the teachers whom he had then condemned. They hadbeen conformists. No doubt they had compromised to the pressure of theirenvironment. But somehow he felt much less like judging men than he usedto in the first flush of his intellectual awakening. It was perhaps thishabit of making allowance for weakness, together with his call to theidealism in them, that made him so effective a worker with men. He was as easy as an old shoe, but people sensed the steel in himinstinctively. In his quiet way he was coming to be a power. For onething he was possessed of the political divination that understands howfar a leader may go without losing his following. He knew too how to getpractical results. It was these qualities that enabled him out of thewreckage of the senatorial defeat to build a foundation of victory forHouse Bill 77. To bring into effect Jeff's pet measure of the initiative and referendumnecessitated an amendment to the state constitution, which must bepassed by two successive legislative assemblies and ratified by a voteof the people in order to become effective. The bill had been slumberingin committee, but immediately after the senatorial election Jeffinsisted on having it brought squarely to the attention of the House. His feeling for the psychological moment was a true one and he succeededby a skillful newspaper campaign in rallying the people to his support. The sense of outrage felt at this shameless purchase of a seat in theSenate, accented by a knowledge of its helplessness to avenge the wrongdone it, counted mightily in favor of H. B. No. 77 just now. It promiseda restoration of power to the people, and the clamor for its passagebecame insistent. A good deal of quiet lobbying had been done for the bill, and thelegislators who had sold themselves, having received all they couldreasonably expect from the allied corporations, were anxious to makea show of standing for their constituents. Politicians in generalconsidered the bill a "freak" one. Some who voted for it explained thatthey did not believe in it, but felt the people should have a chance tovote on it themselves. By a large majority it passed the House. Two dayslater it squeezed through the Senate. Rawson, who had been persuaded half against his judgment to support thebill, lunched with Jeff that day. "Now watch the corporations dig a grave for your little pet at the nextlegislature, " he chuckled, helping himself to bread while he waited forthe soup. "They may. Then again they may not, " Farnum answered. "We are ruled bypolitical machines and corporations only as long as we let them. I've anotion the people are going to assert themselves at the next election. " "How are you going to make the will of the dear people effective withthe assembly?" asked Rawson, amused. "Make the initiative and referendum the issue of the campaign. Pledgethe legislators to vote for it before nominating them. " "Pledge them?" grinned Rawson cynically. "Weren't they pledged tosupport Hardy? And did they?" "No, but they'll stick next time, I think. " "You're an incurable optimist, my boy. " "It isn't optimism this time. It's our big stick. " "Didn't know we had one. " "Do you remember House Bill 19?" "No. What's that got to do with it?" "It slipped through early in the session. Anderson introduced it. Nobodypaid any attention to it because he's a back country Swede and his billwas very wordy. The governor signed it to-day. That bill provides forthe recall of any public official, alderman or legislator if the peopleare not satisfied with his conduct. " The big man stared. "I thought it only applied to district roadsupervisors. Were you back of that bill, Jeff?" "I had it drawn up and helped steer it through the committee, though Iwas careful not to appear interested. " "You sly old fox! And nobody guessed it had general application. Noneof us read the blamed thing through. You're going to use it as a club tomake the legislators stand pat on their pledges. " "Yes. " "But don't you see how revolutionary your big stick is?" Rawson's smilewas expansive. "Why, hang it, man, you're destroying the fundamentalvalue of representative government. It's a deliberate attack on graft. " "Looks like it, doesn't it?" It was while Rawson was waiting for his mince pie piled with ice creamthat he ventured a delicate question. "Say, Jeff! What about James? Is he getting ready to flop over to theenemy?" "No. Why do you ask that?" "I notice he explained when he voted for House Bill 77 that he reservedthe right to oppose it later. Said he hadn't made up his mind, but feltthe people should be given a chance to express themselves on it. " Upon Farnum's face rested a momentary gravity. "I can't make Jamesout lately. He's lost his enthusiasm. Half the time he's irritable andmoody. I think perhaps he's been blaming himself too much for Hardy'sdefeat. " Rawson laughed with cynical incredulity. "That's it, is it?" CHAPTER 11 "Faustina hath the fairest face, And Phillida the better grace; Both have mine eye enriched: This sings full sweetly with her voice; Her fingers make so sweet a noise; Both have mine ear bewitched. Ah me! sith Fates have so provided, My heart, alas! must be divided. " THE HERO, ASSISTED BY THE MONA LISA SMILE, DEPLORES THE DEBILITATINGEFFECTS OF MODERN CIVILIZATION Part 1 With the adjournment of the legislature politics became a less absorbingtopic of interest. James at least was frankly glad of this, for hisposition had begun to be embarrassing. He could not always stand with afoot in either camp. As yet he had made no break with the progressives. Joe Powers had given him a hint that he might be more useful where hewas. But as much as possible he was avoiding the little luncheons atwhich Jeff and his political friends were wont to foregather. He gaveas an excuse the rush of business that was swamping him. His excuse atleast had the justification of truth. His speeches had brought him agood many clients and Frome was quietly throwing cases his way. It was at one of these informal little noonday gatherings that Rawsongave his opinion of the legal ability of James. "He isn't any great lawyer, but he never gives it away. He knows how towear an air of profound learning with a large and impressive silence. Roll up the whole Supreme Court into one and it can't look any wiserthan James K. Farnum. " Miller laughed. "Reminds me of what I heard last week. Jeff was walkingdown Powers Avenue with James and an old fellow stopped me to point themout. There go the best citizen and the worst citizen in this town, hesaid. I told him that was rather hard on James. You ought to have heardhim. For him James is the hero of the piece and Jeff the villain. " "Half the people in this town have got that damn fool notion, " CaptainChunn interrupted violently. "More than half, I should say. " "Every day or two I hear about how dissipated Jeff used to be and howif it were not for his good and noble cousin he would have gone to thedeuce long ago, " Rawson contributed. Chunn pounded on the table with his fist. "Jeff's own fault. Talk aboutdurn fools! That boy's got them all beat clear off the map. And I'mdashed if I don't like him better for it. " "Move we change the subject, " suggested Rawson. "Here comes Verden'sworst citizen. " With a casual nod of greeting round the table Jeff sat down. "Any of you hear James' speech before the Chamber of Commerce yesterday?It was bully. One of his best, " he said as he reached for the menu card. Captain Chunn groaned. The rest laughed. Jeff looked round in surprise. "What's the joke?" Part 2 It was a great relief to James, in these days when the complacency ofhis self-satisfaction was a little ruffled, to call often on ValenciaVan Tyle and let himself drift pleasantly with her along primrose pathswhere moral obligations never obtruded. Under the near-Venetian ceilingof her den, with its pink Cupids and plump dimpled cherubs smiling down, he was never troubled about his relation to Hardy's defeat. Here hegot at life from another slant and could always find justification tohimself for his course. She had a silent divination of his moods and knew how to ministerindolently to them. The subtle incense of luxury that she diffusedbanished responsibility. In her soft sensuous blood the lusty beat ofduty had small play. But even while he yielded to the allure of Valencia Van Tyle, admittinga finish of beauty to which mere youth could not aspire, all that wasidealistic in him went out to the younger cousin whose admiration andshy swift friendship he was losing. His vanity refused to accept thisat first. She was a little piqued at him because of the growing intimacywith Valencia. That was all. Why, it had been only a month or two agothat her gaze had been warm for him, that her playful irony had mockedsweetly his ambition for service to the community. Their spirits hadtouched in comradeship. Almost he had caught in her eyes the look theywould hold for only one man on earth. The best in him had responded tothe call. But now he did not often meet her at The Brakes. When he did acool little nod and an indifferent word sufficed for him. How much thishurt only James himself knew. One of the visible signs of his increasing prosperity was a motor car, in which he might frequently be seen driving with the daughter of JoePowers, to the gratification of its owner and the envy of Verden. Thecool indifference with which Mrs. Van Tyle ignored the city's socialelite had aroused bitter criticism. Since she did not care a rap forthis her escapades were frankly indiscreet. James could not reallyafford a machine, but he justified it on the ground that it was aninvestment. A man who appears to be prosperous becomes prosperous. Agood front is a part of the bluff of twentieth century success. He didnot follow his argument so far as to admit that the purchase of thecar was an item in the expenses of a campaign by which he meant to makecapital out of a woman's favor to him, even though his imagination toyedwith the possibilities it might offer to build a sure foundation offortune. "You should go to New York, " she told him once after he had sketched, with the touch of eloquence so native to him, a plan for a line ofsteamers between Verden and the Orient. "To be submerged in the huddle of humanity. No, thank you. " "But the opportunities are so much greater there for a man of ability. " "Oh, ability!" he derided. "New York is loaded to the water line withability in garrets living on crusts. To win out there a man must havea pull, or he must have the instinct for making money breed, for takingwhat other men earn. " She studied him, a good-looking, alert American, sheet-armored in thetwentieth century polish of selfishness, with an inordinate appetite forsuccess. Certainly he looked every inch a winner. "I believe you could do it. You're not too scrupulous to look out foryourself. " Her daring impudence mocked him lightly. "I'm not so sure about that. " James liked to look his conscience in theface occasionally. "I respect the rights of my fellows. In the moneycenters you can't do that and win. And you've got to win. It doesn'tmatter how. Make good--make good! Get money--any way you can. Peoplewill soon forget how you got it, if you have it. " "Dear me! I didn't know you were so given to moral reflections. " ToAlice, who had just come into the room to settle where they should spendtheir Sunday, Valencia explained with mock demureness the subject oftheir talk. "Mr. Farnum and I are deploring the immoral money madness ofNew York and the debilitating effects of modern civilization. Will youdeplore with us, my dear?" The younger woman's glance included the cigarette James had thrown awayand the one her cousin was still smoking. "Why go as far as New York?"she asked quietly. Farnum flushed. She was right, he silently agreed. He had no businessfuttering away his time in a pink boudoir. Nor could he explain that hehoped his time was not being wasted. "I must be going, " he said as casually as he could. "Don't let me drive you away, Mr. Farnum. I dropped in only for amoment. " "Not at all. I have an appointment with my cousin. " "With Mr. Jefferson Farnum?" Alice asked in awakened interest. "I've just been reading a magazine article about him. Is he really aremarkable man?" "I don't think you would call him remarkable. He gets things done, inspite of being an idealist. " "Why, in spite of it?" "Aren't reformers usually unpractical?" "Are they? I don't know. I have never met one. " She looked straight atFarnum with the directness characteristic of her. "Is the article inStetson's Magazine true?" "Substantially, I think. " Alice hesitated. She would have liked to pursue the subject, but shecould not very well do that with his cousin. For years she hadbeen hearing of this man as a crank agitator who had set himself inopposition to her father and his friends for selfish reasons. Her fatherhad dropped vague hints about his unsavory life. The Stetson write-uphad given a very different story. If it told the truth, many things shehad been brought up to accept without question would bear study. James suavely explained. "The facts are true, but not the inferencesfrom the facts. Jeff takes rather a one-sided view of a very complexsituation. But he's perfectly honest in it, so far as that goes. " "You voted for his bill, didn't you?" Alice asked. "Yes, I voted for it. But I said on the floor I didn't believe in it. Myfeeling was that the people ought to have a chance to express an opinionin regard to it. " "Why don't you believe in it?" Valencia lifted her perfect eyebrows. "Really, my dear, I didn't knowyou were so interested in politics. " Alice waited for the young man's answer. "It would take me some time to give my reasons in full. But I can giveyou the text of them in a sentence. Our government is a representativeone by deliberate choice of its founders. This bill would tend to makeit a pure democracy, which would be far too cumbersome for so large acountry. " "So you'll vote against it next time to save the country, " Alicesuggested lightly. "Thank you for explaining it. " She turned to hercousin with an air of dismissing the subject. "Well, Val. What about theyacht trip to Kloochet Island for Sunday? Shall we go? I have to 'phonethe captain to let him know at once. " "If you'll promise not to have it rain all the time, " the young widowshrugged with a little move. "Perhaps Mr. Farnum could join us? I'm sureuncle would be pleased. " Alice seconded her cousin's invitation tepidly, without any enthusiasm. James, with a face which did not reflect his disappointment, took hiscue promptly. "Awfully sorry, but I'll be out of the city. Otherwise Ishould be delighted. " Valencia showed a row of dainty teeth in a low ripple of amusement. Alice flashed her cousin one look of resentment and with a sentence ofconventional regret left the room to telephone the sailing master. Farnum, seeking permission to leave, waited for his hostess to rise fromthe divan where she nestled. But Valencia, her fingers laced in characteristic fashion back of herneck, leaned back and mocked his defeat with indolent amused eyes. "My engagement, " he suggested as a reminder. "Poor boy! Are you hard hit?" "Your flights of fancy leave me behind. I can't follow, " he evaded withan angry flush. "No, but you wish you could follow, " she laughed, glancing at the doorthrough which her cousin had departed. Then, with a demure impudentlittle cast of her head, she let him have it straight from the shoulder. "How long have you been in love with Alice? And how will you like to seeNed Merrill win?" "Am I in love with Miss Frome?" "Aren't you?" "If you say so. It happens to be news to me. " "As if I believed that, as if you believed it yourself, " she scoffed. Her pretty pouting lips, the long supple unbroken lines of the softsinuous body, were an invitation to forget all charms but hers. He understood that she was throwing out her wiles, consciously orunconsciously, to strike out from him a denial that would convince her. His mounting vanity drove away his anger. He forgot everything buther sheathed loveliness, the enticement of this lovely creature whosesmoldering eyes invited. Crossing the room, he stood behind her divanand looked down at her with his hands on the back of it. "Can a man care much for two women at the same time?" he asked in a lowvoice. She laughed with slow mockery. Her faint perfume was wafted to his brain. He knew a besieging of theblood. Slowly he leaned forward, holding her eyes till the mockery fadedfrom them. Then, very deliberately, he kissed her. "How dare you!" she voiced softly in a kind of wonder not free fromresentment. For with all her sensuous appeal the daughter of Joe Powerswas not a woman with whom men took liberties. "By the gods, why shouldn't I dare? We played a game and both of us havelost. You were to beckon and coolly flit, while I followed safely at adistance. Do you think me a marble statue? Do you think me too woodenfor the strings of my heart to pulsate? By heaven, my royal Hebe, youhave blown the fire in me to life. You must pay forfeit. " "Pay forfeit?" "Yes. I'm your servant no longer, but your lover and your master--and Iintend to marry you. " "How ridiculous, " she derided. "Have you forgotten Alice?" "I have forgotten everything but you--and that I'm going to marry you. " She laughed a little tremulously. "You had better forget that too. I'mlike Alice. My answer is, 'No, thank you, kind sir. '" "And my answer, royal Hebe, is this. " His hot lips met hers again inabandonment to the racing passion in him. "You--barbarian, " she gasped, pushing him away. "Perhaps. But the man who is going to marry you. " She looked at him with a flash of almost shy curiosity that had thecharm of an untasted sensation. "Would you beat me?" "I don't know. " He still breathed unevenly. "I'd teach you how to live. " "And love?" She was beginning to recover her lightness of tone, thoughthe warm color still dabbed her cheeks. "Why not?" His eyes were diamond bright. "Why not? You have never knownthe great moments, the buoyant zest of living in the land that belongsonly to the Heirs o Life. " "And can you guide me there?" The irony in her voice was not untouchedwith wistfulness. "Try me. " She laughed softly, stepped to the table, and chose a cigarette. "Myfriend, you promise impossibilities. I was not born to that incomparablecompany. To be frank, neither were you. Alice, grant you, belongs there. And that mad cousin of yours. But not we two earth creepers. We'reneither of us star dwellers. In the meantime"--she lit her Egyptian andstopped to make sure of her light every moment escaping more definitelyfrom the glamor of his passion--"you mentioned an engagement that wasimperative. Don't let me keep you from it. " CHAPTER 12 From The New Catechism Question: What is the whole duty of man? Answer: To succeed. Q. What is success? A. Success is being a Captain of Industry. Q. How may one become a Captain of Industry? A. By stacking in his barns the hay made by others while the sun shines. Q. But is this not theft? A. Not if done legally and respectably on a large scale. It is high finance. THE REBEL AND THE UNDESIRABLE CITIZEN TALK TREASON. THE HERO HAS PRIVATECONVERSE WITH A GREAT PIONEER OF CIVILIZATION Part 1 Jeff never for a day desisted from his fight to win back for the peoplethe self rule that had been wrested from them for selfish purposes bycorporate greed. "Government by the people" was the watchword he keptat the head of his editorial column. Better a bad government that isrepresentative than a good one emanating from the privileged few, hemaintained with conviction. To his office came one day Oscar Marchant, the little, half-educatedSocialist poet, coughing from the exertion of the stairs he had justclimbed. He had come begging, the consumptive presently explained. "Remember Sobieski, the Polish Jew?" Jeff smiled. "Of course. Philosophical anarchy used to be his remedy. " "Starvation is the one he's trying now, " returned Marchant grimly. "He'shad typhoid and lost his job. The rent's due and they'll be turned outtomorrow. He's got a wife and two kids. " Farnum asked questions briefly and pulled out his check book. "TellSobieski not to worry, " he said as he handed over a check. "I'll senda reporter out there and we'll make an appeal through the _World_. Ofcourse his own name won't be used. No one will know who it really is. We'll look out for him till he's on his feet again. " Marchant gave him the best he had. "You're a pretty good Socialist, eventhough you don't know it. " "Am I?" "But you're blind as a bat. The things you fight for in the _World_don't get to the bottom of what ails us. " "We've got to forge the tools of freedom before we can use them, haven'twe?" "You're all for patching up the rotten system we've got. It will neverdo. " "Great changes are most easily brought about under the old forms. Men'sminds in the mass move slowly. They can see only a little truth at atime. " "Because they are blinded by ignorance and selfishness. Get at bottomfacts, Farnum. What's the one great crime?" Without a moment's hesitation Jeff answered. "Poverty. All other crimesare paltry beside that. " Marchant cocked himself up on the window seat with his legs doubledunder him tailor fashion. "Why?" "Because it stamps out hope and love and aspiration, all that is fineand true in life. " "Exactly. Men ought to love their work. But how can they love that whichis always associated in their minds with a denial of justice? Is itlikely that men will work better under a system whereby they arecondemned in advance to failure than under one standing rationally for ajust and fair division of the fruits of labor? I tell you, Farnum, underpresent conditions the Juggernaut of progress is forever wastinghumanity. " "I've always thought it a pity that the mainsprings of work should befear and greed instead of hope and love, " Jeff agreed. "Why is it that poverty coexists with wealth increasing so rapidly? Whyis it that productive power has been so enormously developed withoutlightening the burdens of labor?" Marchant's eyes were starlike in their earnestness. He had a passionfor humanity that neither want nor disease could quench, and with ita certain gift of expression street oratory had brought out. Even inprivate conversation he had got into the way of declaiming. But Jeffknew he was no empty talker. All that he had he literally gave to thepoor. "Because the whole spirit of business life is wrong, " Farnum responded. "Of course it's wrong. It's a survival of the law of the jungle, oftooth and fang. Its motto is dog eat dog. We all work under the rule ofget and grab. What's the result of this higgledypiggledy system? Oneman starves and another has indigestion. That's the trouble with Verdento-day. Some of us haven't enough and others have too much. They takefrom us what we earn. That's the whole cause of poverty. The Malthusiantheory is all wrong. It's not nature, but man that is to blame. " Farnum knew the little Socialist was right so far. Here in Verden, underthe forms of freedom, was the very essence of slavery. All the productof labor was taken from it except enough to sustain a mere animalexistence. Something was wrong in a world where a man begs in vain forwork to support his family. Given proper conditions, men would not riseby trampling each other down, but by lending a hand to the unfortunate. The effect of efficiency would be to make things easier for the weak. The reward of service would be more service. "The principle of the old order is dead, " Marchant went on, wagging histhin forefinger at Jeff. "The whole social fabric is made up of lies, compromises, injustice. The only reason it has hung together so longis that people have been trained to think along certain lines like showanimals. But they're waking up. Look at Germany. Look at England. Whatthe plutocrats call the menace of Socialism is everywhere. Now thatevery worker knows he is being robbed of what he earns, how long doyou think he will carry the capitalistic system on his back? From thebeginning of the world we have tried it. With what result? An injusticethat is staggering, a waste that is appalling, an inhumanity that isdeadening. " Jeff let a hand fall lightly on his shoulder. "Of course it's all wrong. We know that. But can you show me how to make it right, except out ofthe hearts of men growing slowly wiser and better?" "Why slowly?" demanded Marchant. "Why not to-day while we're still aliveto see the smiles of men and women and children made glad? You alwayswant to begin at the wrong end. I tell you that you can't change men'shearts until you change the conditions under which they live. " "And I tell you that you can't change the conditions until you changemen's hearts, " Jeff answered with his wistful smile. "Rubbish! The only way to change the hearts of most plutocrats is tohit them over the head with a two-by-four. Smug respectability is in thesaddle, and it knows it's right. We'll get nowhere until we smash thisiniquitous system to smithereens. " "So you want to substitute one system for another. You think you caneliminate by legal enactment all this fatty degeneration of greed andselfishness that has incased our souls. I'm afraid it will be a slowerprocess. We must free ourselves from within. I believe we are movingtoward some sort of a socialistic state. No man with eyes in his headcan help seeing that. But we'll move a step at a time, and only so fastas the love and altruism inside us can be organized into external law. " "No. You'll wake up some morning and find that this whole capitalisticorganization has crumbled in the night, fallen to pieces from dry rot. " Jeff might not agree with him, but he knew that Marchant, dreamer andincoherent poet, his heart aflame with zeal for humanity, was far nearerthe truth of life than the smug complacent Pharisees that fattened fromthe toil of the helpless many who could do nothing but suffer in dumbsilence. Part 2 As the months passed Jeff grew in stature with the people of the state. In spite of his energy he was always fair. The plain truth he felt to bea better argument than the tricks of a demagogue. A rational common sense was to be found in all his advice. Add to thisthat he had no personal profit to seek, no political axe to grind, andwas always transparent as a child. More and more Verden recognizedhim as the one most conspicuous figure in the state dedicated touncompromising war against the foes of the Republic. Those who knew him best liked his humility, his good humor, thegentleness that made him tolerant of the men he must fight. His poiselifted him above petty animosities, and the daily sand-stings of lifedid not disturb his serenity. Everywhere his propaganda gained ground. People's Power Leagues wereformed with a central steering committee at Verden. Politicians withtheir ears close to the ground heard rumbles of the coming storm. Theybegan to notice that reputable business men, prominent lawyers notaffiliated with corporations, and even a few educators who had shakenaway the timidity of their class were lining up to support Jeff's freaklegislation. It began to look as if one of those periodical uprisings ofthe people was about to sweep the state. Big Tim found his ward workers met persistently by the same questionsfrom their ordinarily docile following. "Why shouldn't we tie strings toour representatives so as to keep them from betraying us?. .. Why can'twe make laws ourselves in emergency and kill bad laws the legislaturemakes?. .. What's the matter with taking away some of the power from ourrepresentatives who have abused it?" In the city election O'Brien went down to defeat. Only fragments of histicket were saved from the general wreckage. Next day Joe Powers wiredJames Farnum to join him immediately at Chicago. "I'm going to put you in charge of the political field out there, " thegreat man announced, his gray granite eyes fastened on the young lawyer. "Ned Merrill won't do. Neither will O'Brien. Between them they've made amess of things. " "I don't know that it is their fault, except indirectly. One of thosepopulistic waves swept over the city. " "Why didn't they know what was going to happen? Why didn't they let meknow? That's what I pay them for. " "A child could have foreseen it, but O'Brien wouldn't believe his eyes. He's been giving Verden an administration with too much graft. Thepeople got tired of it. " "What were Merrill and Frome up to? Why did they permit it?" demandedPowers impatiently. "They were looking out for their franchises. To get the machine'ssupport they had to give O'Brien a free hand. " "If necessary you had better eliminate Big Tim. Or at least put him andhis gang in the background. Make the machine respectable so that goodcitizens can indorse it. " James nodded agreement. "I've been thinking about that. The thing canbe done. A business men's movement from inside the party to purify it. Areorganization with new men in charge. That sort of thing. " "Exactly. And how about the state?" "Things don't look good to me. " "Why not?" "This initiative and referendum idea is spreading. " Powers drove his fist into a pile of papers on the desk. "Stop it. Igive you carte blanche. Spend as much as you like. But win. What good isa lobby to me if those hare-brained farmers can kill every bill we passthrough their grafting legislature?" The possibilities grew on Farnum. "I'll send Professor Perkins of VerdenUniversity to New Zealand to prepare a paper showing the thing is afailure there. I'll have every town in the state thoroughly canvassed bylecturers and speakers against the bill. I'll bombard the farmers withliterature. " "What about the newspapers?" "We control most of them. At Verden only the _World_ is against us. " "Buy it. " "Can't be bought. Its editorial columns are not for sale. " "Anything can be bought if you've got the price. Who owns it?" "A Captain Chunn. He made his money in Alaska. My cousin is the editor. He is the real force back of it. " "Does the paper have any influence?" "A great deal. " "I've heard of your cousin. A crack-brained Socialist, I understand. " "You'll find he's a long way from that, " James denied. "Whatever he is, buy him, " ordered Powers curtly. The young man shook his head. "Can't be done. He doesn't want the thingsyou have to offer. " "Every man has his price. Find his, and buy him. " James shook his head decisively. "Absolutely impossible. He's anidealist and an altruist. " Powers snorted impatiently. "Talk English, young man, and I'llunderstand you. " Farnum had heard Joe Powers was a man who would stand plain talk fromthose who had the courage to give it him. His cool eyes hardened. Whynot? For once the old gray pirate, chief of the robber buccaneers whorode on their predatory way superior to law, should see himself as JeffFarnum saw him. "What I mean is that the things he holds most important can't be boughtwith dollars and cents. He believes in justice and fair play. He thinksthe strong ought to bear the burdens of the weak. "He has a passion to uplift humanity. You can't understand him becauseit isn't possible for you to conceive of a man whose first thought isalways for what is equitable. " "Just as I thought, a Socialist dreamer and demagogue, " pronouncedPowers scornfully. "Merrill and Frome have been thinking of him just as you do. " Jameswaved his hand toward the newspaper in front of the railroad king. "Withwhat result our election shows. " "Well, where does his power lie? How can you break it?" the old manasked. "He is a kind of brother to the lame and the halt all over the state. Among the poor and the working classes he has friends without number. They believe in him as a patriot fighting for them against the foes ofthe country. " "Do you call me a foe of the country, young man?" Powers wanted to knowgrimly. "Not I, " laughed James. "Why should I quarrel with my bread and jam? Ifyou had ever done me the honor to read any of my speeches you would seethat I refer to you as a Pioneer of Civilization and a Builder for theFuture. But my view doesn't happen to be universal. I was trying to showyou how the man with the dinner pail feels. " "Who fills his dinner pails?" James met his frown with a genial eye. "There's a difference of opinionabout that, sir. According to the economics of Verden University youfill them. According to the _World_ editorials it's the other way. Theyfill yours. " "Hmp! And what's your personal opinion? Am I a robber of labor?" "I think that the price of any success worth while is paid for in thefailure of others. You win because you're strong, sir. That's the lawof the game. It's according to the survival of the fittest that you'rewhere you are. If you had hesitated some other man would have trampledyou down. It's a case of wolf eat wolf. " The old railroad builder laughed harshly. This was the first time in hisexperience that a subordinate had so analyzed him to his face. "So I'm a wolf, am I?" "In one sense of the word you're not that at all, sir. You're a greatbuilder. You've done more for the Northwest than any man living. You couldn't have done it if you had been squeamish. I hold the endjustifies the means. What you've got is yours because you've won it. Menwho do a great work for the public are entitled to great rewards. " "Glad to know you've got more sense than that fool cousin of yours. Nowgo home and beat him. I don't care how you do it, just so that youget results. Spend what money you need, but make good, young man--makegood. " "I'll do my best, " James promised. "All I demand is that you win. I'm not interested in the method you use. But put that cousin of yours out of the demagogue business if you haveto shanghai him. " James laughed. "That might not be a bad way to get rid of him till afterthe election. The word would leak out that he had been bought off. " The old buccaneer's eyes gleamed. He was as daring a lawbreaker as everbuilt or wrecked a railroad. "Have you the nerve, young man?" "When I'm working for you, sir, " retorted James coolly. "What do you mean by that?" "If I've studied your career to any purpose, sir, one thing stands outpretty clear. You haven't the slightest respect for law merely as law. When it's on your side you're a stickler for it; when it isn't you saynothing, but brush it aside as if it did not exist. In either case youget what you want. " "I'm glad you've noticed that last point. Now we'll have luncheon. " Hesmiled grimly. "I daresay you'll enjoy it no less because I stole itfrom the horny hand of labor, by your mad cousin's way of it. " "Not a bit, " answered James cheerfully. CHAPTER 13 "Must it be? Must we then Render back to God again This, His broken work, this thing For His man that once did sing?" --Josephine Prestor Peabody. "And listen! I declare to you that if all is as you say--and I do not doubt it--you have never ceased to be virtuous in the sight of God!"--Victor Hugo. THE REBEL PROVES THAT HE IS LOST TO GOOD FORM AND RESPECTABILITY BYSTEPPING BETWEEN A SINNER AND THE WAGES OF SIN, THUS EVIDENCING TO THEPILLARS OF SOCIETY HIS COMPLETE DEGENERATION Part 1 Sam Miller came into Jeff's office one night as he was looking over theeditorials. Farnum nodded abstractedly to him. "Take a chair, Sam. Be through in a minute. " Presently Jeff pushed the galley proof to one side and looked at hisfriend. "Well, Sam?" Almost at once he added: "What's the matter?" There were queer white patches on Miller's fat face. He looked like aman in hell. A lump rose in his throat. Two or three times he swallowedhard. "It's--it's Nellie. " "Nellie Anderson?" He nodded. Jeff felt as if his heart had been drenched in icy water. "What abouther?" "She's--gone. " "Gone where?" "We don't know. She left Friday. There was a note for her mother. Itsaid to forget her, because she was a disgrace to her name. " "You mean--" Jeff did not finish his question. He knew what the answerwas, and in his soul lay a reflection of the mortal sickness he saw inhis friend's face. Miller nodded, unable to speak. Presently his words came brokenly. "She's been acting strangely for a long time. Her mother noticed it. .. . So did I. Like as if she wasn't happy. We've been worried. I. .. I. .. " Heburied his face in his arm on the table. "My God, I love her, Jeff. Ihave for years. If I'd only known. .. If she'd only told me. " Jeff was white as the galley proof that lay before him with theunprinted side up. "Tell me all about it, Sam. " Miller looked up. "That's all. We don't know where she's gone. She hadno money to speak of. " "And the man?" Jeff almost whispered. "We don't know who he is. Might be any one of the clerks at the VerdenDry Goods Company. Maybe it's none of them. If I knew I'd cut his heartout. " The clock on the wall ticked ten times before Jeff spoke. "Did she goalone?" "We don't know. None of the clerks are missing from the store where sheworked. I checked up with the manager yesterday. " Another long silence. "They may have rooms in town here. " "Not likely. " Presently Miller added miserably: "She's--going to be amother soon. We found the doctor she went to see. " "You're sure she hasn't been married? Of course you've looked over themarriage licenses for the past year. " "Yes. Her name isn't on the list. " "Did she have money?" "About fifteen dollars, we figure. " "That wouldn't take her far--unless the man gave her some. Have you beento a detective agency?" "Yes. " "We'll put blind ads in all the papers telling her to come home. We'llrake the city and the state with a fine tooth comb. We're bound to hearof her. " "She's desperate, Jeff. If she's alone she'll think she has no friends. We've got to find her in time or--" Jeff guessed the alternative. She might take the easy way out, the onewhich offered an escape from all her earthly troubles. Girls of her typeoften did. Nellie was made for laughter and for happiness. He had knownher innocent as a sunbeam and as glad. Now that she was in the pit, facing disgrace and disillusionment and despair, the horror and thedread of existence to her would be a millstone round her neck. The damnable unfairness of it took. Jeff by the throat. Was it her faultthat she had inherited a temperament where passions lurked unsuspectedlike a banked fire? Was she to blame because her mother had brought herup without warning, because she had believed in the love and the honorof a villain? Her very faith and trust had betrayed her. Every honestinstinct in him cried out against the world's verdict, that she must paywith salt tears to the end of her life while the scoundrel who had ledher into trouble walked gaily to fresh conquests. Cogged dice! She had gone forth smiling to play the game of life withthem, never dreaming that the cubes were loaded. He remembered how onceher every motion sang softly to him like music, with what dear abandonshe had given herself to his kisses. Her fondness had been a thing tocherish, her innocence had called for protection. And her chivalrouslover had struck the lightness forever from her soul. For long he never thought of her without an icy sinking of the heart. Part 2 Weeks passed. Sam Miller gave his whole time to the search for themissing girl. Jeff supplied the means; in every way he could heencouraged him and the broken mother. For a thousand miles south andeast the police had her description and her photograph. But no traceof her could be found. False clews there were aplenty. A dozen haggardstreetwalkers were arrested in mistake for her. Patiently Sam ran downevery story, followed every possibility to its hopeless end. The weeks ran into months. Mrs. Anderson still hoped drearily. Everynight the light in the hall burned now till daybreak. And every nightshe wept herself to sleep for that her one ewe lamb was lost in aravenous world. Tears were for the night. Wan smiles for the day, when she and Sam, drawn close by a common grief, met to understand each other with fewwords. He was back again at his work as curator of the museum at theState House, a place Jeff had secured for him after the election. Outside of Nellie's mother the one friend to whom Sam turned now wasJeff. He came for comfort, to sit long hours in the office while Farnumdid his night work. Sometimes he would read; more often sit broodingwith his chin in his hands. When the midnight rush was past and Jeff wasfree they would go together to a restaurant. Afterwards they would separate at the door of the block where Jeff hadhis rooms. Part 3 Yet when Jeff found her it was not Sam who was with him, but Marchant. They had been to see Sobieski about a place Captain Chunn had securedfor him as a night watchman of the shipbuilding plant of which ClintonRogers was part owner. The Pole had mounted his hobby and it had beenlate when they got away from his cabin under the viaduct. Just before they turned into lower Powers Avenue from the deadline belowYarnell Way, Marchant clutched at the sleeve of his friend. "See that woman's face?" he asked sharply. "No. " Jeff was interested at once. For during the past months he had falleninto a habit of scanning the countenance of any woman who might be theone they sought. "She knew you. I could see fear jump to her eyes. " "We'll go back, " Jeff decided instantly. "She's in deep water. Death is written on her face. " Already Jeff was swinging back, almost on the run. But she had goneswallowed up in the darkness of the night. They listened, but could hearonly the steady splashing of the rain. While they stood hesitating thefigure of a woman showed at the other end of the alley and was lost atonce down Pacific Avenue. Jeff ran toward the lights of the other avenue, but before he reached itshe had again disappeared. Marchant joined him a few moments later. Thelittle socialist leaned against the wall to steady himself against thefit of coughing that racked him. "Nuisance. .. This. .. Being a lunger. .. What's it all. .. About, Jeff?" "I know her. We'll cover the waterfront. Take from Coffee Street up. Don't miss a wharf or a boathouse. And if you find the girl don't lether get away. " The editor crossed to the Pacific & Alaska dock, his glance sweepingevery dark nook and cranny that might conceal a huddled form. Out of asodden sky rain pelted in a black night. He was turning away when an empty banana crate behind him crashed downfrom a pyramid of them. Jeff whirled, was upon her in an instant beforeshe could escape. She was shrinking against the wall of the warehouse, her face a tragicmask in its haggard pallor, a white outline clenched hard against thedriving rain. One hand was at her heart, the other beat against the airto hold him back. "Nellie!" he cried. "What do you want? Let me alone! Let me alone!" She was panting likea spent deer, and in her wild eyes he saw the hunted look of a forestcreature at bay. "We've looked everywhere for you. I've come to take you home. " "Home!" Her strange laughter mocked the word. "There's no home for folkslike me in this world. " "Your mother is breaking her heart for you. She thinks of nothing else. All night she keeps a light burning to let you know. " She broke into a sob. "I've seen it. To-night I saw it--for the lasttime. " "It is pitiful how she waits and waits, " he went on quietly. "She takesout your dresses and airs them. All the playthings you used when youwere a little girl she keeps near her. She--" "Don't! Don't!" she begged. "Your place is set at the table every day, so that when you come in itmay be ready. " At that she leaned against the crates and broke down utterly. Jeff knewthat for the moment the battle was won. He slipped out of his rain coatand made her put it on, coaxing her gently while the sobs shook her. Heled her by the hand back to Pacific Avenue, talking cheerfully as if itwere a matter of course. Here Marchant met them. "I want a cab, Oscar, " Jeff told him. While he was gone they waited in the entrance to a store that shelteredthem from the rain. Suddenly the girl turned to Jeff. "I--I was going to do it to-night, "she whispered. He nodded. "That's all past now. Don't think of it. There are good daysahead--happy days. It will be new life to your mother to see you. We'veall been frightfully anxious. " She shivered, beginning to sob once more. Not for an instant had hewithdrawn the hand to which she clung so desperately. "It's all right, Nellie. .. All right at last. You're going home to thosethat love you. " "Not to-night--not while I'm looking like this. Don't take me hometo-night, " she begged. "I can't stand it yet. Give me to-night, please. I. .. " She trembled like an aspen. Jeff could see she was exhausted, in deadlyfear, ready to give way to any wild impulse that might seize her. Toreason with her would do no good and might do much harm. He must humorher fancy about not going home at once. But he could not take her to arooming house and leave her alone while her mind was in this condition. She must be watched, protected against herself. Otherwise in the morningshe might be gone. "All right. You may have my rooms. Here's the cab. " Jeff helped her in, thanked Marchant with a word, got in himself, and shut the door. They were driven through streets shining with rainbeneath the light clusters. Nellie crouched in a corner and wept. Asthey swung down Powers Avenue they passed motor car after motor carfilled with gay parties returning from the theaters. He glimpsed youngwomen in furs, wrapped from the cruelty of life by the caste system inwhich wealth had incased them. Once a ripple of merry laughter floatedto him across the gulf that separated this girl from them. A year ago her laughter had been light as theirs. Life had been a thingbeautiful, full of color. She had come to it eagerly, like a lover, gladbecause it was so good. But it had not been good to her. By the cluster lights he could see howfearfully it had mauled her, how cruelly its irony had kissed hollows inher young cheeks. All the bloom of her was gone, all the brave pride andjoy of youth--gone beyond hope of resurrection. Why must such thingsbe? Why so much to the few, so little to the many? And why should thatlittle be taken away? He saw as in a vision the infinite procession ofher hopeless sisters who had traveled the same road, saw them firstas sweet and carefree children bubbling with joy, and again, afterthe _World_ had misused them for its pleasure, haggard, tawdry, withdragging steps trailing toward the oblivion that awaited them. Good God, how long must life be so terribly wasted? How long a bruised and brokenthing instead of the fine, brave adventure for which it was meant? Across his mind flashed Realf's words: "Amen!" I have cried in battle-time, When my beautiful heroes perished; The earth of the Lord shall bloom sublime By the blood of his martyrs nourished. "Amen!" I have said, when limbs were hewn And our wounds were blue and ghastly The flesh of a man may fail and swoon But God shall conquer lastly. Part 4 As Jeff helped her from the cab in front of the block where he lived alimousine flashed past. It caught his glance for an instant, long enoughfor him to recognize his Cousin James, Mrs. Van Tyle and Alice Frome. The arm which supported Nellie did not loosen from her waist, though heknew they had seen him and would probably draw conclusions. The young woman was trembling violently. "My rooms are in the second story. Can you walk? Or shall I carry you?"Farnum asked. "I can walk, " she told him almost in a whisper. He got her upstairs and into the big armchair in front of the gas log. Now that she had slipped out of his rain coat he saw that she was wetto the skin. From his bedroom he brought a bathrobe, pajamas, woolenslippers, anything he could find that was warm and soft. In front of herhe dumped them all. "I'm going down to the drug store to get you something that will warmyou, Nellie. While I'm away change your clothes and get into thesethings, " he told her. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You're good. " A lump rose in his heart. He thought of those evenings before the gratealone with her and of the desperate fight he had had with his passions. Good! He accused himself bitterly for the harm that he had done her. Butbefore her his smile was bright and cheerful. "We're all going to be so good to you that you'll not know us. Haven'twe been waiting two months for a chance to spoil you?" "Do you. .. Know?" she whispered, color for an instant in her wan face. "I know things aren't half so bad as they seem to you. Dear girl, weare your friends. We've not done right by you. Even your mother hasbeen careless and let you get hurt. But we're going to make it up to younow. " A man on the other side of the street watched Jeff come down and crossto the drug store. Billie Gray, ballot box stuffer, detective, andgeneral handy man for Big Tim O'Brien, had been lurking in that entrywhen Jeff came home. He had sneaked up the stairs after them and hadseen the editor disappear into his rooms with one whom he took to be awoman of the street. Already a second plain clothes man was doing sentryduty. The policeman whose beat it was sat in the drug store and kept aneye open from that quarter. To the officer Jeff nodded casually. "Bad weather to be out all nightin, Nolan. " "Right you are, Mr. Farnum. " The editor ordered a bottle of whiskey and while it was being put uppassed into the telephone booth and closed the door behind him. Hecalled up Olive 431. Central rang again and again. "Can't get your party, " she told him at last. "You'll waken him presently. Keep at it, please. It's very important. " At last Sam Miller's voice answered. "Hello! Hello! What is it?" "I've found Nellie. .. . Just in time. Thank God. .. She's at my rooms. .. . Have Mrs. Anderson bring an entire change of clothing for her. .. . Yes, she's very much exhausted. I'll tell you all about it later. .. . Comequietly. She may be asleep when you get here. " Jeff hung up the receiver, paid for the whiskey, and returned tohis rooms. He did not know that he had left three good and competentwitnesses who were ready to take oath that he had brought to his roomsat midnight a woman of the half world and that he had later boughtliquor and returned with it to his apartment. Billie Gray thumped his fist into his open palm. "We've got him. We'vegot him right. He can't get away from it. By Gad, we've got him atlast!" Jeff found Nellie wrapped in his bathrobe in the big chair before thegas log. Her own wet clothes were out of sight behind a screen. "You locked the door when you went out, " she charged. "Some of my friends might have dropped in to see me, " he explained withhis disarming smile. But he could see in her eyes the unreasoning fear of a child that hasbeen badly hurt. He had locked the door on the outside. She was going tobe dragged home whether she wanted to go or not. Dread of that hour washeavy on her soul. Jeff knew the choice must be hers, not his. He spokequietly. "You're not a prisoner, of course. You may go whenever you like. I wouldhave no right to keep you. But you will hurt me very much if you gobefore morning. " "Where will you stay?" she asked. "I'll sleep on the lounge in this room, " he answered in his most matterof fact voice. While he busied himself preparing a toddy for her she began to tellbrokenly, by snatches, the story of her wanderings. She had gone toPortland and had found work in a department store at the notion counter. After three weeks she had lost her place. Days of tramping the streetslooking for a job brought her at last to an overall factory where shefound employment. The foreman had discharged her at the end of the thirdday. Once she had been engaged at an agency as a servant by a man, butas soon as his wife saw her Nellie was told she would not do. Bitterhumiliating experiences had befallen her. Twice she had been turned outof rooming houses. Jeff read between the lines that as her time drewnear some overmastering impulse had drawn her back to Verden. Alreadyshe was harboring the thought of death, but she could not die in astrange place so far from home. Only that morning she had reached town. After she had retired to the bedroom Jeff sat down in the chair shehad vacated. He heard her moving about for a short time. Presently camesilence. It must have been an hour and a half later that Sam and Mrs. Andersonknocked gently on the door. "Cars stopped running. Had to 'phone for a taxi, " Miller whispered. The agitation of the mother was affecting. Her fingers twitched withnervousness. Her eyes strayed twenty times in five minutes toward thedoor behind which her daughter slept. Every little while she wouldtip-toe to it and listen breathlessly. In whispers Jeff told them thestory, answering a hundred eager trembling questions. Slowly the clock ticked out the seconds of the endless night. Gray daybegan to sift into the room. Mrs. Anderson's excursions to the bedroomdoor grew more frequent. Sometimes she opened it an inch or two. On oneof these occasions she went in quickly and shut the door behind her. "Good enough. They don't need us here, Sam. We'll go out and have somebreakfast, " Jeff proposed. On the street they met Billie Gray. He greeted the editor with a knowinggrin. "Good morning, Mr. Farnum. How's everything? Fine and dandy, eh?" Jeff looked at him sharply. "What the mischief is he doing here?" heasked Miller by way of comment. All through breakfast that sinister little figure shadowed his thoughts. Gray was like a stormy petrel. He was surely there for no good, barringthe chance of its being an accident. Both of them kept their eyes openon their way back, but they met nobody except a policeman swinging hisclub as he leaned against a lamp post and whistled the Merry Widow waltz. But Farnum was not satisfied. He cautioned both Sam and Mrs. Andersonto say nothing, above all to give no names or explanation to anybody. Awhisper of the truth would bring reporters down on them in shoals. "You had better stay here quietly to-day, " their host advised. "I'll seeyou're not disturbed by the help. Sam will bring your meals in from arestaurant. I'd say stay here as long as you like, but it can't be donewithout arousing curiosity, the one thing we don't want. " "No, better leave late to-night in a taxi, " Sam proposed. "Better still, I'll bring around Captain Chunn's car and Sam can driveyou home. We can't be too careful. " So it was arranged. Mrs. Anderson left it to them and went back into thebedroom where her wounded lamb lay. About midnight Jeff stopped a car in front of the stairway. The twoveiled women emerged, accompanied by Sam. They were helped into thetonneau and Miller took the driver's seat. Just as the machine began tomove a little man ran across the street toward them. Jeff's forearm went up suddenly and caught him under the chin. BillieGray's head went back and his heels came up. Farnum was on him in aninstant, ostensibly to help him up, but really to see he did not getup too quickly. As soon as the automobile swung round the corner Jefflifted him to his feet. "Sorry. Hope I didn't hurt you, " he smiled. "Smart trick, wasn't it?" snarled the detective. "Never mind, Mr. Farnum. We've got your goat right. " "Again?" Jeff asked with pleasant impudence. "Got you dead to rights this trip. " Gray fired another shot as he turnedaway. "And we'll find out yet who your lady friends are. Don't youforget it. " But Billie had overlooked a bet. He had been in the back of the drugstore getting a drink when Sam and Mrs. Anderson arrived. The policemanon guard had not connected the coming of these with Jeff. None of thewatchers knew that Jeff had not been alone with the girl all night. Part 5 Sam called on Jeff two days later. "I want you to come round to-night at seven-fifteen. We're going to bemarried, " he explained. The newspaper man's eye met his in a swift surprise. "You and Nellie?" "Yes. " Miller's jaw set. "Why not? YOU'RE not going to spring thatdamned cant about--" "I thought you knew me better, " his friend interrupted. Miller's face worked. "I'll ask your pardon for that, Jeff. You've beenthe best friend she has. Well, we've thrashed it all out. She fought hermother and me two days; didn't think it right to let me give my name toher, even though she admits she has come to care for me. You can see howshe would be torn two ways. It's the only road out for her and the babythat is on the way, but she couldn't bring herself to sacrifice me, asshe calls it. I've hammered and hammered at her that it's no sacrifice. She can't see it; just cries and cries. " "Of course she would be unusually sensitive; Her nerves must be all bareso that she shrinks as one does when a wound is touched. " "That's it. She keeps speaking of herself as if she were a lost soul. At last we fairly wore her out. After we are married her mother and shewill take the eight o'clock for Kenton. Nobody there knows them, andshe'll have a chance to forget. " "You're a white man, Sam, " Jeff nodded lightly. But his eyes wereshining. "I'm the man that loves her. I couldn't do less, could I?" "Some men would do a good deal less. " "Not if they looked at it the way I do. She's the same Nellie I'vealways known. What difference does it make to me that she stumbled inthe dark and hurt herself--except that my heart is so much more tenderto her it aches?" "If you hold to that belief she'll live to see the day when she is ahappy woman again, " the journalist prophesied. "I'm going to teach her to think of it all as only a bad nightmare she'sbeen through. " His jaw clinched again so that the muscles stood outon his cheeks. "Do you know she won't say a word--not even to hermother--about who the villain is that betrayed her? I'd wring his cowardneck off for him, " he finished with a savage oath. "Better the way it is, Sam. Let her keep her secret. . The least said andthought about it the better. " Miller looked at his watch. "Perhaps you're right. I've got to go towork. Remember, seven-fifteen sharp. We need you as a witness. Just yourbusiness suit, you understand. No present, of course. " The wedding took place in the room where Jeff had been used to drinkingchocolate with his little friend only a year before. It was the firsttime he had been here since that night when the danger signal hadflashed so suddenly before his eyes. The whole thing came back to himpoignantly. It was a pitiful little wedding, with the bride and her mother in tearsfrom the start. The ceremony was performed by their friend Mifflin, theyoung clergyman who had a mission for sailors on the waterfront. Nobodyelse was present except Marchant, the second witness. As soon as the ceremony was finished Sam put Nellie and her mother intoa cab to take them to their train. The other three walked back downtown. As Jeff sat before his desk four hours later, busy with a tax levystory, Miller came in and took a seat. Jeff waved a hand at him andpromptly forgot he was on earth until he rose and put on his coat anhour later. "Well! Did they get off all right?" he asked. Miller nodded absently. Ten minutes later he let out what he wasthinking about. "I wish to God I knew the man, " he exploded. Jeff looked at him quietly. "I'm glad you don't. Adding murder to itwouldn't help the situation one little bit, my friend. " CHAPTER 14 Only the man who is sheet-armored in a triple plate of selfishness can be sure that weak hands won't clutch at him and delay his march to success. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. THE HERO, CONFRONTED WITH AN UNPLEASANT POSSIBILITY, PROVES HISGREATNESS BY RISING SUPERIOR TO SENTIMENT Part 1 James came down to the office one morning in his car with a smile ofcontentment on his handsome face. It had been decided that he was to bemade speaker of the House after the next election, assuming that heand his party were returned to power. Jeff and the progressives were tostand back of him, and he felt sure that after a nominal existence thestandpatters would accept him. He intended by scrupulous fair play towin golden opinions for himself. From the speakership to the governor'schair would not be a large step. After that--well, there were manypossibilities. He did not for a moment admit to himself that there was anything ofduplicity in the course he was following. His intention was to line upwith the progressives during the campaign, to win his reelection on thatplatform, and to support a rational liberal program during the session. He would favor an initiative and referendum amendment not so radical asthe one Jeff offered, a bill that would not cripple business or alarmcapital. As he looked at it life was a compromise. The fusion of manyminds to a practical result always demanded this. And results were moreimportant than any number of theories. As James passed into his office the stenographer stopped him with aremark. "A man has been in twice to see you this morning, Mr. Farnum. " "Did he leave his name?" "No. He said he would call again. " James passed into his private office and closed the door. A quarter of an hour later his stenographer knocked. "He's here again, Mr. Farnum. " "Who?" "The man I told you of. " "Oh!" James put down the brief he was reading. "Show him in. " A figure presently stood hesitating in the doorway. James saw an oldishman, gray and stooped with a rather wistful lost-dog expression on hisface. "What can I do for you, sir?" he questioned. "Don't you know me?" the stranger asked with a quaver in his voice. The lawyer did not, but some premonition of disaster clutched at hisheart. He rose swiftly and closed the door behind his caller. A faint smile doubtful of its right touched the weak face of the littleold man. "So you don't know your own father--boy!" A sudden sickness ran through the lawyer and sapped his strength. Heleaned against the desk uncertainly. It had come at last. The wholeworld would learn the truth about him. The Merrills, the Fromes, Valencia Van Tyle--all of them would know it and scorn him. "What are you doing here?" James heard himself say hoarsely. "Why, I--I--I came to see my son. " "What for?" Before so harsh and abrupt a reception the weak smile went out like ablown candle. "I thought you'd be glad to see me--after so many years. " "Why should I be glad to see you? What have you ever done for me butdisgrace me?" Tears showed in the watery eyes. "That's right. It's gospel truth, Ireckon. " "And now, when I've risen above it, so that all men respect me, you comeback to drag me down. " "No--no, I wouldn't do that, son. " "That's what you'll do. Do you think my friends will want to know a manwho is the son of a convict? I've got a future before me. Already I'vebeen mentioned for governor. What chance would I have when people knowmy father is a thief?" "Son, " winced the old man. "Oh, well! I'm not picking my words, " James went on with angryimpatience. "I'm telling you the facts. I've got enemies. Every strongman has. They'll smash me like an empty eggshell. " "They don't need to know about me. I'll not do any talking. " "That's all very well. Things leak out, " James grumbled a little moregraciously. "Well, you better sit down now you're here. I thought youwere living in Arkansas. " "So I am. I've done right well there. And I thought I'd take a littlerun out to see you. I didn't know but what you might need a littlehelp. " He glanced aimlessly around the well-furnished office. "But Iexpect you don't, from the looks of things. " "If you think I've got money you're wrong, " James explained. "I'm juststarting in my profession, and of course I owe a good deal here andthere. I've been hard pressed ever since I left college. " His father brightened up timidly. "I owe you money. We can fix that up. I've got a little mill down there and I've done well, though it was hardsledding at first. " James caught at a phrase. "What do you mean?" "Owe me money! "I knew it must be you paid off the shortage at the Planters' National. When I sent the money it was returned. You'd got ahead of me. I was THATgrateful to you, son. " The lawyer found himself flushing. "Oh, Jeff paid that. He was earningmoney at the time and I wasn't. Of course I intended to pay him backsome day. " "Did Jeff do that? Then you and he must be friends. Tell me about him. " "There's not much to tell. He's managing editor of a paper here that hasa lot of influence. Yes. Jeff has been a staunch friend to me always. He recognizes that I'm a rising man and ought to be kept before thepublic. " "I wonder if he's like his father. " "Can't tell you that, " his son replied carelessly. "I don't rememberUncle Phil much. Jeff's a queer fellow, full of Utopian notions aboutbrotherhood and that sort of thing. But he's practical in a way. He getsthings done in spite of his softheadedness. " There was a knock at the door. "Mr. Jefferson Farnum, sir. " James considered for a second. "Tell him to come in, Miss Brooks. " The lawyer saw that the door was closed before he introduced Jeff to hisfather. It gave him a momentary twinge of conscience to see his cousintake the old man quickly by both hands. It was of course a mere detail, but James had not yet shaken hands with his father. "I'm glad to see you, Uncle Robert, " Jeff said. His voice shook a little. There was in his manner that hint of affectionwhich made him so many friends, the warmth that suggested a woman'ssympathy, but not effeminacy. The ready tears brimmed into his uncle's eyes. "You're like your father, boy. I believe I would have known you by him, " he said impulsively. "You couldn't please me better, sir. And what about James--would youhave known him?" The old man looked humbly at his handsome, distinguished son. "No, Iwould never have known him. " "He's becoming one of our leading citizens, James is. You ought to hearhim make a speech. Demosthenes and Daniel Webster hide their heads whenthe Honorable James K. Farnum spellbinds, " Jeff joked. "I've read his speeches, " the father said unexpectedly. "For more than ayear I've taken the _World_ so as to hear of him. " "Then you know that James is headed straight for the Hall of Fame. Aren't you, James?" "Nonsense! You've as much influence in the state as I have, or you wouldhave if you would drop your fight on wealth. " "Bless you, I'm not making a fight on wealth, " Jeff answered with goodhumor. "It's illicit wealth we're hammering at. But when you compare meto James K. I'll have to remind you that I'm not a silver-tongued oratoror Verden's favorite son. " The father's wistful smile grew bolder. Somehow Jeff's arrival hadcleared the atmosphere. A Scriptural phrase flashed into his mind asapplicable to this young man. Thinketh no evil. His nephew did notregard him with suspicion or curiosity. To him he was not a sinner oran outcast, but a brother. His manner had just the right touch of easydeference youth ought to give age. "Of course you're going to make us a long visit, Uncle Robert. " The old man's propitiating gaze went to his son. "Not long, I reckon. I've got to get back to my business. " "Nonsense! We'll not let you go so easily. Eh, James?" "No, of course not, " the lawyer mumbled. He was both annoyed andembarrassed. "I don't want to be selfish about it, but I do think you had better putup with me, Uncle. James is at the University Club, and only membershave rooms there. We'll let him come and see you if he's good, " Jeffwent on breezily. James breathed freer. "That might be the best way, if it wouldn't putyou out, Jeff. " "I wouldn't want to be any trouble, " the old man explained. "And you won't be. I want you. James wants you, too, but he can't verywell arrange it. I can. So that's settled. " In his rooms that evening Jeff very gently made clear to his uncle thatVerden believed him to be his son. "If you don't mind, sir, we'll let it go that way in public. We don'twant to hurt the political chances of James just now. And there areother things, too. He'll tell you about them himself probably. " "That's all right. Just as you say. I don't want to disturb things. " "I adopted you as a father about a year ago without your permission. Itwon't do for you to give me away now, " the nephew laughed. Robert Farnum nodded without speaking. A lump choked his throat. He hadfound a son after all, but not the one he had come to meet. Part 2 At the ensuing election the progressives swept the state in spite ofall that the allied corporations could do. James was returned to thelegislature with an increased majority and was elected speaker ofthe House according to program. His speech of acceptance was the mosteloquent that had ever been heard in the assembly hall. The most radicalof his party felt that the committees appointed by him were in theirpersonnel a little too friendly to the vested interests of Verden, but the _World_ took the high ground that he could render his party nohigher service than absolute fair play, that the bills for the rights ofthe people ought to pass on their merits and not by tricky politics. Never before had there been seen at the State House a lobby like theone that filled it now. The barrel was tapped so that the glint of goldflowed through the corridors, into committee rooms, and to out of theway corners where legislators fought for their honor against an attackthat never ceased. Sometimes the corruption was bold. More often itwas insidious. To see how one by one men hitherto honest surrendered tobribery was a sight pathetic and tragic. The Farnum cousins were the centers around whom the reformers rallied. James directed their counsels in the House and Jeff pounded away in the_World_ with vital trenchant editorials and news stories. Every daythat paper carried to the farthest corner of the state bulletins of thebattle. Farmers and miners and laboring men watched its roll of honor tosee if the local representatives were standing firm. As the weekspassed the fight grew more bitter. Now and again men fell by the waysidedisgraced. But the pressure from their constituents was so strong thatJeff believed his bill would go through. His friends forced it through the committee and pushed it to a vote. House Bill 33, as the initiative and referendum amendment was called, passed the lower legislative body with a small majority. The pool roomsoffered five to four that it would carry in the senate. It was on the night of the twenty-first of December that the amendmentpassed the House. On the morning of the twenty-third the _Herald_ spranga front page sensation. It charged that the editor of the _World_ hadruined a girl named Nellie Anderson at a house where he had boarded andthat she had subsequently disappeared. It featured also a story of howhe had been seen to enter his rooms at midnight with a woman of thestreet, who remained there until morning reveling with him. Attached tothis were the affidavits of two detectives, a police officer, and thedruggist who had furnished the liquor. The story exploded like a bomb shell in the camp of the progressives. Rawson tried at once without success to get Jeff on the telephone. Hewas not at the office, nor had he reached his rooms at all after leavingthe _World_ building on the previous night. None of his friends had seenor heard of him. The afternoon papers had a sensation of their own. Jefferson Farnum hadleft Verden secretly without leaving an address. Evidently he had beengiven a hint of the exposure that was to be made of his life and haddecamped rather than face the charges. Rumor had a hundred tales to tell. The waverers at the State House choseto believe that Jeff had sold them out and fled with his price. It wasimpossible to deny the stories of his immorality, since it happened thatSam Miller, the only man who knew the whole story, was far up in themountains arranging for a shipment of Rocky Mountain sheep to thestate museum. Farnum's friends could only affirm their faith in himor surrender. Some gave way, some stood firm. The lobbyists and theopposition went about with confident, "I-told-you-so" smiles writ largeon their faces. Within a few days it became apparent that the reformbill would be defeated in the senate. Its fate had been so long tiedup with the people's belief in Jeff that with his collapse the generalopinion condemned it to defeat. Its friends hung back, unwilling to riska vote as yet. The situation called for a leader and developed one. James Farnumstepped into the breach and took command. In a ringing speech he calledfor a new alignment. He would yield to none in the devotion he had givento House Bill Number 33. But it needed no prophet to see that nowthis amendment was doomed. Better half a loaf than no bread. He was apractical man and wanted to see practical results. Rather than seethe will of the people frustrated he felt that House Bill I7 shouldbe passed. While not an ideal bill it was far better than none. Theprinciple of direct legislation at least would be established. H. B. No. I7 was brought hurriedly out of committee. It had beenintroduced as a substitute measure to defeat the real reform. Accordingto its provision legislation could be initiated by the people, butto make it valid as a law the legislature had to approve any bill sopassed. The people could advise. They could not compel. The speech of the speaker of the House precipitated a bitter fight. Themore eager friends of H. B. No. 33 accused him of treachery, butmany felt that it was the best possible practical politics under thecircumstances. For weeks the issue hung in doubt, but gradually Jamesgathered adherents among both progressives and conservatives. It becamealmost a foregone conclusion that H. B. No. I7 would pass. CHAPTER 15 "Old Capting Pink of the Peppermint, Though kindly at heart and good, Had a blunt, bluff way of a-gittin' 'is say That we all of us understood. When he brained a man with a pingle spike Or plastered a seaman flat, We should 'a' been blowed but we all of us knowed That he didn't mean nothin' by that. I was wonderful fond of old Capting Pink, And Pink he was fond o' me, As he frequently said when he battered me head Or sousled me into the sea. " --Wallace Irwin. BULLY GREEN PRESERVES DISCIPLINE AND THE REBEL LEARNS TO SAY "SIR" Part 1 On the night of the twenty-second of December Jeff left the _World_building and moved down Powers Avenue to the all night restaurant heusually frequented. The man who was both cook and waiter rememberedafterwards that Farnum called for coffee, sausage, and a waffle. Before the editor left the waffle house it was the morning of thetwenty-third. He had never felt less sleepy. Nor did a book and a pipebefore his gas log seem quite what he wanted. The vagabond streak in himwas awake, the same potent wanderlust that as a boy had driven him tothe solitude of the forests and the hills. This morning it sent himquesting down Powers Avenue to that lower town where the derelicts ofthe city floated without a rudder. A cold damp mist had crept up from the water front and enwrapped thecity so that its lights showed like blurred moons. Some instinct tookhim toward the wharves. He could hear the distant cough of a tug asit fussed across the bay, and as he drew near the big Transcontinentalwharves of Joe Powers the black hulk of a Japanese liner rose black outof the gray fog shadow. But the freighters, the coasters, tramps thatwent hither and thither over the earth wherever fat cargoes luredthem--they were either swallowed in the mist or shadowed to a ghost-likewraith of themselves so tenuous that all detail was lost in the haze. Jeff leaned on a pile and let his imagination people the harbor withthe wandering children of the earth who had been drawn from all itsseafaring corners to this Mecca of trade. He knew that here were swarthylittle Japanese with teas and silks, dusky Kanakas with copra, andAlaskan liners carrying gold and returning miners. There would bebrigs from Buenos Ayres and schooners that had nosed into Robert LouisStevenson's magic South Sea islands. Puffy London steamers, Nome andSkagway liners condemned long since on the Atlantic Coast, queer riggedhybrids from Rio and other South American ports, were gorging themselveswith lumber or wheat or provisions according to their needs. Here trulylay before him the romance of the nations. The sound of a stealthy footfall warned him of impending danger. He whirled, and faced three men who were advancing on him. A vaguesuspicion that had oppressed him more than once in the past week leapedto definite conviction in his brain. He was the victim of a plot towaylay--perhaps to murder him. One of these men was a huge Swede, another a swarthy Italian with rings in his ears. He had seen thembefore, lurking in the shadows of an alley outside the _World_ building. Last night he had come out from the office with Jenkins, which no doubthad saved him for the time. This morning he had played into the handsof these men, had obligingly wandered down to the waterfront where theycould so easily conceal murder in a tide running out fast. Strangely enough he felt no fear; rather a fierce exultant drumming ofthe blood that braced him for the struggle. His eyes swept the wharf fora weapon and found none. "What do you want?" he demanded sharply. The man in command ignored his question. "Stand by and down him. " The Italian crouched and leaped. Jeff's fist caught him fairly betweenthe eyes. He went down like a log, rolled over once and lay still. Theothers closed instantly with Farnum and the three swayed in a fiercesilent struggle. Both of his attackers were more powerful than Jeff, but he was far moreactive. The darkness, too, aided him and hampered them. The Swede hecould have managed, for the fellow was awkward as a bear. But the leaderstuck to him like a burr. They went down together over a cleat in theflooring, rolling over and over each other as they fought. Somehow Jeff emerged out of the tangle. He dragged himself to his kneesand hammered with his fist at an upturned face beside him. Battered, bleeding, and winded, he got to his feet and shook off the hands thatreached for him. Dodging past, he lurched along the wharf like a drunkenman. The Italian had gathered himself to his knees. When Jeff cameopposite him he dived like a football tackle and threw his armsaround the moving legs. The newspaper man crashed heavily down tounconsciousness. When Farnum opened his eyes upon a world strangely hazy he found himselflying in a row boat, his head bolstered by a man's knees. "Drink this, mate, " ordered a voice that seemed very far away. The neck of a bottle was thrust between his lips and tilted so that hecould not escape drinking. "That dope'll hold him for a while, Say, Johnny Dago, put your back intothem oars, " he heard indistinctly. Faintly there came to him the slap of the waves against the side of theboat. These presently died rhythmically away. It was daylight when he awakened again. His throbbing head slowlydefinitized the vile hole in which he lay as the forecastle of a ship. Gradually the facts sifted back to him. He recalled the fight on thewharf and the drink in the boat. In this last he suspected knockoutdrops. That he had been shanghaied was beyond suspicion. Laboriously he sat up on the side of his bunk and in doing so becameaware of a sailor asleep in the crib opposite. His stertorous breathingstirred a doubt in Jeff's mind. Perhaps the crimps had taken him too. The ship was rolling a good deal, but by a succession of tacks Jeffstaggered to the scuttle and climbed the hatchway to the deck. A wintrysun was shining, and for a few moments he stood blinking in the light. She was a three-masted schooner and was plunging forward into the choppyseas outside the jaws of the harbor. He whiffed the salt tang of the airand tasted the flying spray. An ebb tide was lifting the vessel forwardon a freshening wind, and trim as a greyhound she slipped through thecat's-paws. A thickset, powerful figure paced to and fro on the quarter-deck, occasionally bellowing an order in a tremendous voice like the roar ofa bull. He was getting canvas set for the fresh breeze of the open seasthat was catching him astern, and the sailors were jumping to obey hisorders. The pounding sails and the singing cordage, the rattling blocksand the whipping ropes, would have told Jeff they were scudding alongfast, even if the heeling of the schooner and its swift forward leapshad not made it plain. "By God, Jones, she's walking, " he heard the captain boom across to themate. Just then a figure cut past him and made straight for the captain. Farnum recognized in it the sailor whom he had left asleep in theforecastle and even in that fleeting glance was aware of the man's lividfury. Up the steps he went like a wild beast. "What kind of a boat is this?" he panted hoarsely. The captain turned toward him. His eyes were shining wickedly, but hisvoice was ominously suave and honeyed. "This boat, son, is a threemastedschooner, name of _Nancy Hanks_, Master Joshua Green, bound for theSolomon Islands with a cargo of Oregon fir. " "I've been shanghaied. This is a nest of crimps, " the man screamed. Joshua Green's salient jaw came forward. "Been shanghaied, have you?And we're a nest of crimps, are we? Son, the less I hear of that line oftalk the better. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. " The man turned loose a flood of profanity and swore he would rot in hellbefore he would touch a rope on that ship. Out went Green's great gnarled fist. The seaman shot back from thequarterdeck and struck a pile of rope below. He was up again and downagain almost quicker than it takes to tell. Three times he hit theplanks before he lay still. The captain stood over him, his eyes blazing. He looked the savage, barbaric slavedriver he was. "Me, I'm Bully Green, and don't you forget it. Been shanghaied, haveyou? Not going to touch a rope? Then, by thunder, you white-liveredbeachcomber, a rope will touch you till you're flayed. Get this in yourcoconut. You'll walk chalk, you lazy son of a sea cook, or I'll hazeyou till you wish you'd never been born. " He punctuated his remarks withvigorous kicks. "Bully Green runs this tub, strike me dead if hedon't. Now you hump for'ard and clap a hand to them sheets. Walk, youshanghaied Dutchman!" The sailor crawled away, completely cowed. For one day he had had morethan enough. The captain watched him for a moment, his great jaw thrustgrimly out. Then, as on a pivot, he whirled toward Jeff. "Come here, you! Step lively, Sport!" Farnum wondered whether he was about to undergo an experience similar tothat of the sailor. "Do you want to know what kind of a ship this is?" "No, sir. I'm perfectly satisfied about that, " smiled his victim. "Got no opinions you want to hand out free, son?" "Think I'll keep them bottled. " "Say 'sir, ' Sport!" "Yes, sir, " answered Farnum, his quiet eyes steady and unafraid. "When I give an order you expect to jump?" "Jump isn't the word. " "Sir!" thundered Green, and "Sir" the newspaper man corrected himself. "Got no story to spiel about being shanghaied, son?" "Would it do any good, sir?" "Not unless you're aching to get what that son of a Dutchman got. Seehere, sport! You walk the chalk line, and Bully Green and you'll getalong fine. I'm a lamb, I am, when I'm not riled. But get gay--andyou'll have a hectic time. I'll rough you till you're shark-food. Getthat through your teeth?" "Yes, sir. " "Now you trot down to the fo'c'sle and dive into them slops you findthere. You got just three minutes to do the dress-suit act. " Jeff, as he passed below, could hear the great bull voice roaring ordersto the men. "Set y'r topsails! Jam 'er down hard, Johnnie Dago! Standby, you lubbers!. .. Now then, easy does it. .. Easy!" Within the allotted three minutes Farnum had climbed into the fouloilskin coat and tarry breeches he found below and was ready for orders. "Clap on to that windlass, sport! No loafing here. .. . Hump y'rself. D'yehear me? Hump?" Jeff threw his one hundred and fifty pounds of bone and muscle againstthe crank of the windlass. Some men would have fought first as longas they could stand and see. Others would have begged, argued, orthreatened. But Jeff had schooled himself to master impulses of rage. He knew when to fight and when to yield. Nor did he give way sullenly orpassionately. It was an outrage--highhanded tyranny--but at the worstit was a magnificent adventure. As he flung his weight into the crank hesmiled. Part 2 Before the trade winds the _Nancy Hanks_ foamed along day after day, allsails set, making excellent time. But for his anxiety as to the effecthis disappearance would have upon the political situation, Jeff wouldhave enjoyed immensely the wild rough life aboard the schooner. But hecould not conceal from himself the interpretation of his absence themachine agents would scatter broadcast. He foresaw a reaction againsthis bill and its probable defeat. The issue was on the knees of chance. The fact that could not beobliterated was that he had been wiped from the slate until after thelegislature would adjourn. For every hour was carrying him farther fromthe scene of action. His only hope was that the _Nancy Hanks_ might put in at the HawaiianIslands, from which place he might get a chance to write, or, betterstill, to cable the reason of his absence. Captain Green himself wipedout this expectation. He jocosely intimated to Farnum one afternoon thathe had no intention of calling the Islands. "When we get through this six months' cruise you'll be a first-ratesailorman, son, and you'll get a sailorman's wages, " he added genially. The shanghaied man met his eye squarely. "I think I could arrangeto draw on Verden for a thousand dollars if you would drop me at theIslands. " "Not for twenty thousand. You're going to stay with us till we get tothe Solomon Islands, and don't you forget it. " Bully Green had taken rather a fancy to this amiable young man who hadtaken so sensible a view of the little misadventure that had befallenhim, but of course business was business. He had been paid to keep himout of the way and he intended to fulfil the contract. "Here I'm educatin' you, makin' an able-bodied seaman out of you, son. You had ought to be grateful, " he grinned. "Oh, I am, " Jeff agreed with a twinkle. But Captain Green had reckoned without the weather. The _Nancy Hanks_drifted into three days of calm and sultry heat. At the end of the thirdday she began to rock gently beneath a murky sky. "Dirty weather, " predicted the mate, the same who had assisted at theshanghaing. "When you see a satin sea turn indigo and that peculiarshade in the sky you want to look out for squalls, " he explained toJeff. It came on them in a rush. The sun went out of a black sky like a blowncandle and the sea began to whip itself to a froth. The wind quickened, boomed to a roar, and sent the schooner heeling to a squall across theleaden waters. The open sea closed in on them. Before they could get insail and make secure the sheets ripped with a scream, braces parted andthe topmasts snapped off. The _Nancy_ went pitching forward into theyawning deeps with drunken plunges from which it seemed she would neveremerge. Great combing seas toppled down and pounded the decks, while thesailors clung to stays or whatever would give them a hold. The squall lasted scarce an hour, but it left the schooner dismantled. Her sheets were in ribbons, her topmasts and bowsprit gone. There wasnothing for it but a crippled beat toward the Islands. Four days later she made an offing in the harbor at Honolulu just as aliner was nosing her way out. Bully Green ranged up beside Farnum and cast a speculative eye on him. "Sport, I had ought to iron you and keep you in the fo'c'sle until weleave here. It's the only square thing to do. " Jeff's gaze was on the advancing steamer. She was scarce two hundredyards away now and he could plainly read the name painted on her side. She was the _Bellingham_ of Verden. "I don't see the necessity, sir, " he answered. "I reckon you do, son. Samuel Green stands by his word to a finish. NowI've promised to keep you safe, and you can bet your last dollar I'ma-going to do it. " His prisoner turned from the rail against which he was leaning to thecaptain. Pinpoints of light were gleaming in the big eyes. "How much safer do you want me than this?" Green expectorated at a chip in the water and shifted his quid. "You'vegot brains, son. No telling what you might try to do. But see here. You're no drunken beachcomber. I know a gentleman when I see one. Gimmeyour word you'll not try to skip out or send a message back to theStates and I'll go easy on you. I'm so dashed kindhearted, I am, that--" Jeff leaped to the rail, stood poised an instant, and dived into theblue Pacific. "Well, I'll be, " Bully Green interrupted himself to roar an order tolower a boat. CHAPTER 16 A young man left his father's house to see the world. Everywhere he found busy human beings. Cities were rising toward the skies, seas and plains were being lined with traffic, school, mill and office hummed with life. He wondered why men were so busy and what they were trying to do. He went to a railroad director and asked: "Why are you building railroads?" "For profits, " was the answer. But a laborer beckoned him aside and whispered: "No--we are making the _World_ one neighborhood. East is now next door to West, and all peoples dwell in one continuing city. " The young man went to the boss of a labor union. "Why, " he asked, "do you spend your days breeding discontent and leading strikes?" "Why?" repeated the leader fiercely, "that the workers receive more pay for shorter hours. " "No, " whispered a laborer, "we are teaching the _World_ the sacred value of human beings. We are learning how to be brotherly-- how to stand up for each other. --James Oppenheim. UNDER STRANGE CIRCUMSTANCES THE REBEL MAKES HIS BOW TO POLITE SOCIETY. TAKING AN APPLE AS A TEXT, HE PREACHES ON THE RISE OF ADAM Part 1 "Man overboard!" Somebody on the liner sang it out. Instantly there was a rush ofpassengers to the side. From the schooner a boat was being lowered andmanned. "I see him. He's swimming this way. I believe he's trying to escape, "one slender young woman cried. "Nonsense, Alice! He fell overboard and he's probably so frightened hedoesn't know which way he is swimming. " This suggestion was from thebeautiful blonde with bronze hair who stood beside her under a tanparasol held by a fresh-faced globetrotter. "Don't you believe it, Val. Look how he's cutting through the water. He's trying to reach us. Oh, I hope they won't get him. Somebody get arope to throw out. " "By Jove, you're right, Miss Alice, " cried the Englishman. "It's a race, and it's going to be a near thing. " He disappeared and was presentlyback with a rope. "Come on! Come on!" screamed the passengers to the swimmer. "He's ripping strong with that overhead stroke. Ye gods, it's close!"exclaimed the Britisher. It was. The swimmer reached the side of the ship not four yards infront of the pursuing boat. He caught at the trailing rope and began toclamber up hand over hand, while the Englishman, a man standing near, and Alice Frome dragged him up. The mate of the Nancy Hanks, standing up in the boat, caught at his footand pulled. The man's hold loosened on the rope. He slid down a foot, steadied himself. Suddenly the left leg shot out and caught the grinningmate in the mouth. He went over backward into the bottom of theboat. Before he could extricate himself from the tangle his fall hadprecipitated, the dripping figure of the swimmer stood safely on thedeck of the _Bellingham. _ In his wet foul slops the man was a sight to draw stares. The cabinpassengers moved back to give him a wide circle, as men do with a wetretriever. "What does this mean, my man?" demanded the captain of the _Bellingham, _pushing forward. He was a big red-faced figure with a heavy roll of fatover his collar. "I have been shanghaied, sir. From Verden. I'm the editor of the _World_of that city. " "That's a lie, " proclaimed the mate of the _Nancy Hanks_, who by thistime had reached the deck. "He's a nutty deckswabber we picked up at'Frisco. " "Why, it's Mr. Farnum, " cried a fresh young voice from the circle. The rescued man turned. His eyes joined those of a slim golden girl andhe was struck dumb. "You know this man, Miss Frome?" the captain asked. "I know him by sight. " She stepped to the front. "There can't be anydoubt about it. He's Mr. Farnum of Verden, the editor of the _World. _" "You're quite sure?" "Quite sure, Captain Barclay. My cousin knows him, too. " The captain turned to Mrs. Van Tyle. She nodded languidly. Barclay swung back to the mate of the _Nancy Hanks_. "I know your kind, my man, and I can tell you that I think the penitentiary would be theproper place for you and your captain, with my compliments to him. " "Better come and pay 'em yourself, sir, " sneered the mate. "Get off my deck, you dirty crimp, " roared the captain. "Slide now, orI'll have you thrown off. " Mr. Jones made a hurried departure. Once in the boat, he shook his fistat Barclay and cursed him fluently. The captain turned away promptly. "Mr. Farwell, if you'll step this waythe steward will outfit you with some clothes. If they don't fit they'lldo better than those togs you're wearing. " The English youth came forward with a suggestion. "Really, I think I cando better than that for Mr. Far--" He hesitated for the name. "Farnum, " supplied the owner of it. "Ah! You're about my size, Mr. Farnum. If you don't mind, you know, you're quite welcome to anything I have. " "Thank you very much. " "Very well. Mr. Farwell--Farnum, I mean--shake hands with LieutenantBeauchamp, " and with the sense of duty done the worthy captain dismissedthe new arrival from his mind. Jeff bowed to Miss Frome and followed his broad-shouldered guide to acabin. He was conscious of an odd elation that had not entirely to dowith a brave adventure happily ended. The impelling cause of it wasrather the hope of a braver adventure happily begun. Part 2 "By Jove, I envy you, Mr. Farnum. Didn't know people bucked intoadventures like that these tame days. Think of actually beingshanghaied. It's like a novel. My word, the ladies will make a lion ofyou!" The Englishman was dragging a steamer trunk from under his bed. Itneeded no second glance at his frank boyish face to divine him a friendworth having. Fresh-colored and blue-eyed, he looked very much thecountry gentleman Jeff had read about but never seen. It was perhaps bythe gift of race that he carried himself with distinction, though theflat straight back and the good shoulders of the cricketer contributedsomewhat, too. Jeff sized him up as a resolute, clean-cut fellow, happily endowed with many gifts of fortune to make him the likable chaphe was. Beauchamp threw out some clothes from a steamer trunk and left therescued man alone to dress. Ten minutes later he returned. "Expect you'd like an interview with the barber. I'll take you round. Bythe way, you'll let me be your banker till you reach Verden?" "Thank you. Since I must. " From the barber shop the Englishman took him to the dining saloon. "Awfully sorry you can't sit at our table, Mr. Farnum. It's full up. You're to be at the purser's. " Jeff let a smile escape into his eyes. "Suits me. I've been at thebos'n's for several weeks. " "Beastly outrage. We'll want to hear all about it. Miss Frome'stremendously excited. Odd you and she hadn't met before. Didn't knowVerden was such a big town. " "I'm not a society man, " explained Jeff. "And it happens I've beenfighting her father politically for years. Miss Frome and Mrs. Van Tyleare about the last people I would be likely to meet. " From his seat Jeff could see the cousins at the other end of the room. They were seated near the head of the captain's table, and thatofficer was paying particular attention to them, perhaps because the_Bellingham_ happened to be one of a line of boats owned by Joe Powers, perhaps because both of them were very attractive young women. They weretypes entirely outside Farnum's very limited experience. The indolence, the sheathed perfection, the soft sensuous allure of the young widowseemed to Jeff a product largely of her father's wealth. But the charmof her cousin, with its sweet and mocking smile, its note of youthfulausterity, was born of the fine and gallant spirit in her. Beauchamp sat beside Miss Frome and the editor observed that they werehaving a delightful time. He wondered what they could be talking about. What did a man say to bring such a glow and sparkle of life into agirl's face? It came to him with a wistful regret for his stolen youththat never yet had he sat beside a young woman at dinner and entertainedher in the gay adequate manner of Lieutenant Beauchamp. James could doit, had done it a hundred times. But he had been sold too long to anurgent world of battle ever to know such delights. Part 3 After dinner Jeff lost no time in waiting upon Miss Frome to thank herfor her assistance. It was already dark. When he found her it was notin one of the saloons, but on deck. She was leaning against the deckrailing in animated talk with Beauchamp, the while Mrs. Van Tylelistened lazily from a deck chair. "I like the way that red head of his came bobbing through the water, "Beauchamp was saying. "Looks to me as if he would take a lot of beating. He's no quitter. Since I haven't the pleasure of knowing Mr. Powers orSenator Frome, I think I'll back Farnum to win. " "It's very plain you don't know Joe Powers. He always wins, " contributedhis daughter blandly. "But Mr. Farnum is a remarkable man just the same, " Alice added. Then, with a little cry to cover her flushed embarrassment: "Here he is. We dohope you're a little deaf, Mr. Farnum. We've been talking about you. " "You may say anything you like about me, Miss Frome, except that I'm notgrateful for the lift aboard you gave me this afternoon, " Jeff answered. He found himself presently giving the story of his adventure. He did notlook at Alice, but he told the tale to her alone and was aware of theeagerness with which she listened. "But why should they want to kidnap you? I don't see any reason for it, "Alice protested. A shadowy smile lay in the eyes of Mrs. Van Tyle. "Mr. Farnum is inpolitics, my dear. " A fat pork packer from Chicago joined the group. "I've been thinkingabout the sharks, Mr. Farnum. You played in great luck to escape them. " "Sharks!" Jeff heard the young woman beside him give a gasp. In themoonlight her face showed white. "These waters are fairly infested with them, " the Chicagoan explained. "We saw two this morning in the harbor. It was when the stewards threwout the scraps. They turned over on their--" "Don't!" cried Alice Frome sharply. The petrified horror on the vivid mobile face remained long as a sweetmemory to Jeff. It had been for him that she had known the swift heartclutch of terror. Part 4 Farnum, pacing the deck as he munched at an apple, heard himselfhailed from the bridge above. He looked up, to see Alice Frome, caughtgloriously in the wind like a winged Victory. Her hair was parted in themiddle with a touch of Greek simplicity and fell in wavy ripples overher temples beneath the jaunty cap. She put her arms on the railing andleaned forward, her chin tilted to an oddly taking boyish piquancy. "I say, give a fellow a bite. " By no catalogue of summarized details could this young woman havelaid claim to beauty, but in the flashing play of her expression, theexquisite golden coloring, one could not evade the charm of a certainwarm witchery, of the passionate beat of innocent life. The wonder ofher lay in the sparkle of her inner self. Every gleam of the deep trueeyes, every impulsive motion of the slight supple body, expressed somephase of her infinite variety. Her flying moods swept her from demureto daring, from warm to cool. And for all her sweet derision her friendsknew a heart full of pure, brave enthusiasms that would endure. "I don't believe in indiscriminate charity, " Jeff explained, and he tookanother bite. "Have you no sympathy for the deserving poor?" she pleaded. "Besides, since you're a socialist, it isn't your apple any more than it is mine. Bring my half up to me, sir. " "Your half is the half I've already eaten. And if you knew as much asyou pretend to about socialism you'd know it isn't yours until you'veearned it. " Her eyes danced. He noticed that beneath each of them was a sprinkle oftiny powdered freckles. "But haven't I earned it? Didn't I blister myhands pulling you aboard?" He promptly shifted ground. "We're living under the capitalistic system. You earn it and I eat it, " he argued. "The rest of this apple is myreward for having appropriated what didn't belong to me. " "But that's not fair. It's no better than stealing. " "Sh--h! It's high finance. Don't use that other word, " he whispered. "And what's fair hasn't a thing to do with it. It's my apple becauseI've got it. " "But--" He waved her protest aside blandly. "Now try to be content with the lota wise Providence has awarded you. I eat the apple. You see me eat it. That's the usual division of profits. Don't be an agitator, or ananarchist. " "Don't I get even the core?" she begged. "I'd like to give it to you, but it wouldn't be best. You see I don'twant to make you discontented with your position in life. " He flung whatwas left of the apple into the sea and came up the steps to join her. Laughter was in the eyes of both, but it died out of hers first. "Mr. Farnum, is it really as bad as that?" Before he could find ananswer she spoke again. "I've wanted for a long time to talk with someone who didn't look at things as we do. I mean as my father does and myuncle does and most of my friends. Tell me what you think of it--you andyour friends. " "That's a large order, Miss Frome. I hardly know where to begin. " "Wait! Here comes Lieutenant Beauchamp to take me away. I promised toplay ring toss with him, but I don't want to go now. " She led a swiftretreat to a spot on the upper deck shielded from the wind and warmed bythe two huge smokestacks. Dropping breathless into a chair, she invitedhim with a gesture to take another. Little imps of mischief flashed outat him from her eyes. In the adventure of the escape she had made himpartner. A rush of warm blood danced through his veins. "Now, sir, we're safe. Begin the propaganda. Isn't that the word youuse? Tell me all about everything. You're the first real live socialistI ever caught, and I mean to make the most of you. " "But I'm unfortunately not exactly a socialist. " "An anarchist will do just as well. " "Nor an anarchist. Sorry. " "Oh, well, you're something that's dreadful. You haven't the proper bumpof respect for father and for Uncle Joe. Now why haven't you?" And before he knew it this young woman had drawn from him glimpses ofwhat life meant to him. He talked to her of the pressure of the strugglefor existence, of the poverty that lies like a blight over wholesections of cities, spreading disease and cruelty and disorder, crushingthe souls of its victims, poisoning their hearts and bodies. He showedher a world at odds and ends, in which it was accepted as the naturalthing that some should starve while others were waited upon by servants. He made her see how the tendency of environment is to reduce all thingsto a question of selfinterest, and how the great triumphant fact oflife is that love and kindness persist. Her interest was insatiable. Shepoured questions upon him, made him tell her stories of the things hehad seen in that strange underworld that was farther from her than Asia. So she learned of Oscar Marchant, coughing all day over the shoes hehalf-soled and going out at night to give his waning life to the serviceof those who needed him. He told her--without giving names--the storyof Sam Miller and his wife, of shop girls forced by grinding poverty tothat easier way which leads to death, of little children driven by wantinto factories which crushed the youth out of them. Her eyes with the star flash in them never left his face. She wasabsorbed, filled with a strange emotion that made her lashes moist. Shesaw not only the tragedy and waste of life, but a glorious glimpse ofthe way out. This man and his friends set the common good above theirprivate gain. For them a new heart was being born into the world. Theywere no longer consumed with blind greed, with love of their pettyselves. They were no longer full of cowardice and distrust and enmity. Life was a thing beautiful to them. It was flushed with the color ofhope, of fine enthusiasms. They might suffer. They might be defeated. But nothing could extinguish the joy in their souls. They walked likegods, immortals, these brothers to the spent and the maimed. For theyhad found spiritual values in it that made any material profit of smallimportance. Alice got a vision of the great truth that is back of alltrue reforms, all improvement, all progress. "Love, " she said almost in a whisper, "is forgetting self. " Jeff lost his stride and pulled up. He thought he could not have heardaright. "I beg your pardon?" "Nothing. I was just thinking out loud. Go on please. " But she had broken the thread of his talk. He attempted to take it upagain, but he was still trying for a lead when Alice saw Mrs. Van Tyleand Beauchamp coming toward them. She rose. Her eyes were the brightest Jeff had ever seen. They werefilled with an ardent tenderness. It was as if she were wrapped in aspiritual exaltation. "Thank you. Thank you. I can't tell you what you've done for me. " She turned and walked quickly away. To be dragged back to thecommonplace at once was more than she could bear. First she must getalone with herself, must take stock of this new emotion that ran likewine through her blood. A pulse throbbed in her throat, for she was in apassionate glow of altruism. "I'm glad of life--glad of it--glad of it!" she murmured through theveil she had lowered to screen her face from observation. It had come to her as a revelation straight from Heaven that there canbe no salvation without service. And the motive back of service mustbe love. Love! That was what Jesus had come to teach the world, and allthese years it had warped and mystified his message. She felt that life could never again be gray or colorless. For there waswork waiting that she could do, service that she could give. And surelythere could be no greater happiness than to find her work and do itgladly. CHAPTER 17 All sorts of absurd assumptions pass current as fixed and non-debatable standards. We might be free, and we tie ourselves to the slavery of rutted convention. Afraid of ideas, we come to no definite philosophy of life that is the result of clear and pellucid thinking. We must get rid of our bonds, but only in order to take on new ones. For our convictions will shackle us. The difference is that then we shall be servants of Truth and not of dead Tradition. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. THE CHAPERONE EXPLAINS THAT THE REBEL IS IMPOSSIBLE AND THE CHAPERONEDBEGS LEAVE TO DIFFER Part 1 "And why mustn't I?" Alice demanded vigorously. Her cousin regarded her with indolent amusement. "My dear, you arepositively the most energetic person I know. It is refreshing to seewith what interest you enter into a discussion. " Miss Frome, very erect and ready for argument, watched her steadily fromthe piano stool of their joint sitting room. "Well?" "I didn't say you mustn't, my dear. I know better than to deal inimperatives with Miss Alice. What I did was mildly to suggest that youare going rather far. It's all very well to be civil, but--" Mrs. VanTyle shrugged her shoulders and let it go at that. She was leaning backin an easychair and across its arm her wrist hung. Between the fingers, polished like old ivory to the tapering pink nails, was a lightedcigarette. "Why shouldn't I be--pleasant to him? I like him. " Her color deepened, but the eyes of the girl did not give way. There was in them a littleflare of defiance. "Be pleasant to him if you like, and if it amuses you. But--" AgainValencia stopped, but after a puff or two at her cigarette she addedpresently: "Don't get too interested in him. " "I'm not likely to, " Alice returned with a touch of scorn. "Can't Ilike a man and admire him without wanting to marry him? I think that's ahateful way to look at it. " "It's your interpretation, not mine, " Mrs. Van Tyle answered withperfect good humor. "Of course you couldn't want to marry him underany circumstances. His station in life--his anarchistic ideas--hisreputation as a confirmed libertine--all of them make the thought ofsuch a thing impossible. " Miss Frome's mind seized on only one of the charges. "I don't believeit. I don't believe a word of it. Anybody can throw mud--and some of itis bound to stick. He's a good man. You can see that in his face. " "You can perhaps. I can't. " Valencia studied her beneath a droop ofeyelids behind which she was very alert. "Those things aren't said abouta man unless they are true. Moreover, it happens we don't have to dependon hearsay. " "What do you mean?" "Do you remember that night we saw the Russian dancers?" "Yes. " "On the way home our car passed him. He was helping a woman out of a cabin front of the building where he rooms. She was intoxicated, and--hisarm was round her waist. " "I don't believe it. It was somebody else, " the young woman flamed. "His cousin recognized him. So did I. " "There must be some explanation. I'll ask him. " "Ask him!" Valencia's level eyebrows lifted "Really, I don't think thatwill do. Better quietly eliminate him. " "You mean treat him as if he were guilty when, I am sure he is not. " Mrs. Van Tyle's little laugh rippled out. "You're quite dramatic aboutit, my dear. The man's of no importance. He's a _poseur_, a demagogue, and one with a vicious streak in him. I understand, of course, thatyou're interested only because he different from the other men you know. That merely a part of his pose. " "I'm sure it isn't. " "You're romantic, my dear. I'll admit his arrival on this ship wasdramatic. No doubt you're imagining him a knight going back to savegallantly a day that is lost. He's only a politician, and so far as Ican understand they are almost all a bad lot. " "Including Father and Uncle Joe and Ned Merrill?" Alice asked acidly. "They are not politicians, but business men. They are in politics merelyto protect their interests. But I didn't intend to start a discussionabout Mr. Farnum. I ask you to remember that as your chaperone I'm hereto represent your father. Would he wish you to be friendly with thisman?" Alice was silent. What her father would think was not a matter of doubt. "The man's impossible, " Mrs. Van Tyle went on pleasantly. "And it's justas well to be careful. Not that I'm very prudish myself. But if you'regoing to marry Ned Merrill--" She had struck the wrong note. Like a flash Alice answered. "I'm not. That's definitely decided. " "Really! I thought it was rather arranged, " Valencia smiled blandly. It was all very well for Alice to protest, but in the end she would bea good girl and do as she was told. Not that her cousin objected to herhaving a little fling before the fatal day. But why couldn't the girl doher flirting with Beauchamp instead of with this wild socialist? Valencia reflected that at any rate she had done her duty. Part 2 Jeff was tramping the deck, his hands in his coat pockets, waiting forthe trumpeter to fling out the two bars of music that would summon himto breakfast. He walked vigorously? drawing in deep breaths of the saltsea air. His thoughts were of Alice Frome. He was a lover, and in hisimagination she embodied all things beautiful. Her charm flowed throughhim, pierced him with delight. When he heard music his mind flew to her. It voiced the rhythm of her motions and the sound of her warm laughter. The sunshine but reflected the golden gleams of light in her wavy hair. As he swung round the smoking saloon Jeff came face to face with Alice. He turned and caught step with her. The coat she wore came to herankles, but it could not conceal her light, strong tread nor the longlines of the figure that gave her the grace of a captured wood nymph. "Only five hundred miles from Verden. By night we ought to be inwireless communication, " he suggested. Her glance flashed at him. "You'll be glad to get home. " "I will and I won't. There's work for me to do there. But it's the firstreal vacation I ever had in my life that lasted over a week. You can'tthink how I've enjoyed it. " "So have I. More than anything I can remember. " They stopped to lookat a steamer which lay low on the distant horizon line. After they hadfallen into step again she continued at the point where they had beeninterrupted: "And after we reach home? Are you going to come and seeme? Are you going to let me meet your friends, those dear people whoare giving themselves to make life less hideous and harsh for the weak?Shall I meet Mr. Mifflin. .. And Mr. Miller and your little Socialistpoet? Or are you going to desert me?" He smiled a little at her way of putting it, but he was troubled nonethe less. "Are you sure that your way is our way? One can give serviceon the Hill just as much as down in the bottoms. There's no moralgrandeur in rags or in dirt. Isn't your place with your friends?" "Haven't I a right to take hold of life for myself at first hand?Haven't I a right to know the truth? What have I done that I should bewalled off from all these people who earn the bread I eat?" "But your friends. .. Your father. .. " Her ironic smile derided him. "So after all you haven't the courage ofyour convictions. Because I'm Peter C. Frome's daughter I'm not to havethe right to live. " "No, it's your right to take hold of life with both hands. But surelyyou must live it among your own people. " "I've got to learn how to live it first, haven't I? Most of my friendsare not even aware there a problem of poverty. They thrust the thoughtof it from them. Our wealthy class has no social consciousness. Take myfather. He thinks the submerged are lost because they are thriftless andthat all would be right if they wouldn't drink. To him they are just awaste product of civilization. "But can you study the life of the people without growing discontentedwith the life you must lead?" "There is a divine discontent, you know. I've got to see things formyself. Why should all my opinions, my faith, be given to me ready-made. Why must I live by a formula I have never examined? If it isn't trueI want to know it. And if it is true I want to know it. " She had beenlooking straight before them toward the rising sun but now her gazeswept round on him. "Don't blame yourself for giving me new thoughts. Isuppose all new ideas are likely to make trouble. But I've been workingin this direction for years. Ever since I've been a little girl myheresies have puzzled my father. Meeting you has shown me a short cut. That's all. " Something she had said recalled to him a fugitive memory. "Do you know, I think I saw you once when you were a little bit of athing?" "Where?" "On the doorstep of your old place. I was rather busy at the timefighting Edward Merrill. " She stopped, looking at him in surprise. "Were you that boy?" "I was that boy. " "You fought him to help a little ragged girl. She was a foreigner. " "I've forgotten why I fought him. The reason I remember the occasion isthat I met then for the first time two of my friends. " She claimed a place immediately. "Who was the other one?" "Captain Chunn. " Presently she bubbled into a little laugh. "How did the fight come out?My nurse dragged me into the house. " "Don't remember. I know the school principal licked me next day. I hadbeen playing hookey. " They made another turn of the deck before she spoke again. "So we're old acquaintances, and I didn't know it. That was nearlyeighteen years ago. Isn't it strange that after so long we should meetagain only last week?" Jeff felt the blood creep into his face. "We met once before, MissFrome. " "Oh, on the street. I meant to speak. " "So did I. " "When?" With his eyes meeting hers steadily Jeff told her of the time she hadfound him in the bushes and mistaken him for a sick man. He could seethat he had struck her dumb. She looked at him and looked away again. "Why do you tell me this?" she asked at last in a low voice. "It's only fair you should know the truth about me. " They tramped the circuit once more. Neither of them spoke. Thetrumpeter's bugle call to breakfast rang out. At the bow she stopped and looked down at the waters they werefurrowing. It was a long time before she raised her head and met hiseyes. The color had whipped into her cheeks, but she put her questionsteadily. "Are you telling me. .. That I must lose my friend?" "Isn't that for you to say?" "I don't know. " She faltered for words, but not the least in herintention. "Are you--what I have always heard you are?" "Can you be a little more definite?" he asked gently. "Well--dissipated! You're not that?" "No. I've trodden down the appetite. I'm a total abstainer. " "And you're not. .. Those worse things that the papers say?" "No. " "I knew it. " Triumph rang in her voice. She breathed a generous trust. To know him for a true man it was necessary only to look into hisfearless eyes set deep in the thin tanned face. It was impossible foranything unclean to survive with his humorous humility and his pervadingsympathy and his love of truth. "I didn't care what they said. I knew itall the time. " Her sweet faith was a thing to see with emotion. He felt tears scorchthe back of his eyes. "The thing you know is bad enough. " "Oh, that! That is nothing. .. Now. It doesn't matter. " Lieutenant Beauchamp emerged from a saloon and bore down upon them. "Mrs. Van Tyle has sent me to bring you to breakfast, Miss Frome. Mornin', Mr. Farnum. " "And I'm ready for it, We've been round the deck ever so many times. Haven't we, Mr. Farnum?" She nodded lightly to Jeff and walked away with the Englishman. Thesunshine of her warm vitality was like quicksilver in Farnum's veins. What a gallant spirit, at once delicate and daring, dwelt in that vividslender form! A snatch of Chesterton came to his mind: Her face was like an open word When brave men speak and choose, The very colors of her coat Were better than good news. "It is the hour of man: new purposes, Broad shouldered, press against the world's slow gate; And voices from the vast eternities Publish the soul's austere apostolate. Man bursts the chains that his own hands have made; Hurls down the blind, fierce gods that in blind years He fashioned, and a power upon them laid To bruise his heart and shake his soul with fears. " --Edwin Markham. CHAPTER 18 THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY ARE GIVEN AN ILLUSTRATION OF A ROORBACK Part 1 Rawson sat in the rotunda of the Pacific Hotel in desultory conversationwith Captain Chunn, Hardy and Rogers. He brought his clenched hand downon the padded leather arm of the big chair. "They'll jam it through to-morrow. That's what they'll do. James K. Farnum's been playing mighty pretty politics and he has got the votes todeliver the goods. " Hardy nodded as he knocked the ash from his cigar. "Now that it's allover we can see James K. 's trail easily enough. He meant to defeatthe initiative and referendum amendment, and he meant to do it withoutlosing his popularity. He's done it too. Jeff's disappearance made itcertain our bill wouldn't go through. James jumps in with a hurrah andpasses one that isn't worth the powder to blow it up. But he's going toclaim it as a great victory for the people--and if I know that young manhe'll get away with his bluff. Yet it's certain as taxes that he's beenworking for Joe Powers all the time. " "I wouldn't put it past him to have engineered some deal to get rid ofhis cousin, " Chunn suggested. Rawson shook his head. "No. Not respectable enough for James. And he'snot fool enough to run his head into a trap. But I'd bet my head Big Timgave him a tip it was to be pulled off. J. K. Had to know. Otherwisehe wouldn't have been in a position to play the game for them. But hedidn't know any details--just a suggestion. Enough to wise him withoutmaking him responsible. " "And the play he's been making in the papers. Offering a rewardfor information about Jeff, insisting publicly that he has absoluteconfidence in his cousin's integrity while he shakes his head inprivate. If you want my opinion, that young man is a whited sepulchre. Inever did believe in him. " Rogers turned to Captain Chunn with an incredulous smile. "But you stillbelieve in Jeff. Frankly, it looks to me like a double sell out. " The old Confederate's eyes gleamed. "Sir, I've known that boy since hewas a little tad. He's never told me a lie. He's square as they makethem. " "I used to believe in his cousin James, too, " Rogers commented. "Oh, James! He's another proposition. " Rawson's voice was sour withdisgust. "He just naturally looked to see where his bread was buttered. He's as selfish as the devil for all that suave, cordial way of his. Right from the first his idea has been to make a big personal hit. Andhe figured out he could do it easier with Joe Powers back of him thanagainst him. James K. Is the smoothest fraud on the Pacific Coast. But Jeff--why, every hair of his head is straight. He's one out of amillion, believe me. " "You've said it, " Chunn agreed. Rogers smiled across at them. "He's left a lot of good friends behindhim anyhow. But it's strange he could drop off the earth without a soulknowing about it. " "The men who murdered him know about it, " Rawson answered significantly. Captain Chunn shook his head. "No, that boy will turn up yet. " "But not in time to save us. We're licked. There's not one chance in amillion for us. That's the discouraging feature of it, to be sold outafter we had won our fight. " Rawson agreed with Hardy. "Yes, we're licked. Even if Jeff were to showup, with all these stories against him, we wouldn't be able to stem thetide now. " "Mister Raw-w-son--Mister Raw-w-son. " The singsong voice of a bellhopechoed through the rotunda. Captain Chunn's walking stick flagged the lad and brought him slidingacross the polished floor. "Telegram for Mr. Rawson. " The big politician ripped it open and ran his eyes rapidly over theyellow slip. From his lips burst a sudden oath of surprise. "By Jupiter, the miracle's happened. Jeff is alive and on his way here. He's sent me a wireless from out at sea somewhere. " "What!" Captain Chunn let out a whoop of joy. "Listen here. " Rawson read aloud his message. "'Shanghaied on schooner_Nancy Hanks_. Escaped at Honolulu. Back in Verden to-night. Keep up thefight. '" "Didn't I say Jeff was alive? Didn't I say he would come back and beatthose robbers yet?" the owner of the _World_ demanded. "Don't get excited. It may be a fake. " This from Hardy, who was almostas much moved himself. "Fake nothing! We'll go down to the telegraph office and make sure it's0. K. Won't this make a bully story for the _World_ 'Shanghaied' in bigletters across the top, and underneath a red hot roast of the old cityhall gang's methods of trying to defeat the will of the people. " Rawsonlaughed aloud as his imagination pictured the story. The old soldier's eyes gleamed. "I'll run twice as many copies as usual. We'll plaster the state with them, calling for mass meetings everywhereto insist on the legislature passing our bill. " "Go easy, gentlemen, " advised Rogers. "If it's true we hold a trumpcard, but we want to play it mighty carefully so as to make it carry asmuch dynamite as possible. " The company could give no information more definite than that themessage had come from the _Bellingham, _ which was still a couple ofhundred miles out at sea. In view of the value of the news from a strategic slant his friendssucceeded in keeping the lid on Captain Chunn's enthusiasm until theparty was safe aboard a fast yacht steaming out of the harbor to meetthe _Bellingham. _ The old Confederate's first impulse had been to run anextra immediately, but he was argued out of it. "We don't want to go off half cocked. We've got a beautiful comeback ifwe play it right. That is, if Jeff's got any proof. But we better waitand let Jeff run the newspaper end of it, Captain. " This was Hardy's view, and it was indorsed by the others. "Another thing. This story has got to come just like an explosion onJames K. Farnum's supporters. We've got to sweep them right back to ourbill. Now if we break the force of it by giving them warning that swarmof lobbyists will get busy and stay busy all night, " Rawson added. Jim Dunn, the star reporter of the _World, _ was hurriedly summoned bytelephone. Chunn explained to the city editor that Dunn and the staffphotographer were needed to cover a big story, but of what the story wasno mention was made to the office. As soon as Dunn and Quillen reachedthe wharf the _Fly by Night_ shot out of the dock. Part 2 In the wintry afternoon sunlight Beauchamp and Alice were playinga match of shuffleboard against Jeff and the daughter of a Honolulumissionary. The game had reached an exciting and critical stage whenthey noticed that the ship was no longer quivering from the throb of theengines. "A steam yacht, probably from Verden, " the ship purser remarked to thefirst mate as they passed. The players gave up their game to watch the boat that was being loweredfrom the deck of a yacht close at hand. Into it stepped five men inaddition to the crew. Presently Jeff, leaning against the rail, borrowedthe glasses of a man near. After Alice had looked she handed them toFarnum. He gave a little exclamation of surprise. "I beg your pardon?" the girl beside him murmured. "They are my friends, Miss Frome. Come to meet me, I expect. The littleman in gray with one arm is Captain Chunn. " She was all excitement at once. "Then they must have received yourmessage?" "Probably. " Jeff was the first man to meet Captain Chunn as he walked up the steps. The gray little man gave a whoop of joy. "David!" Their hands gripped. Rawson fell on Farnum from behind and pounded him jubilantly. Instantlythe editor was the center of a group of eager, urgent wellwishers. Alice explained to Captain Barclay what it was all about and stood backsmiling while questions and answers flew back and forth. "What about our bill?" Jeff inquired as soon as the first hubbub hadquieted. "Dead as a door nail. Your cousin has substituted H. B. I7. They willpass it to-morrow or the next day. " A swift sickness ran through Farnum. "James gone back on us?" "That's what. He's double-crossed us. " Rawson snapped the words outbitterly. "Why--why--surely not James. " Jeff's mind groped for some possible explanation. "Says our bill was lost anyhow and it was a question of getting throughGarman's bill or none. " "But Garman's bill was framed by Ned Merrill. It doesn't give usanything. " Rawson nodded grimly. "That's the idea. We're to get nothing, but it'sto be wrapped up like a Christmas present so as to fool us. " "And isn't there any chance at all for our bill?" "Just this one chance. " Rawson leaned forward and spoke in a low voice, driving his hand down on the deck railing. "That you've got a charge ofdynamite up your sleeve to throw into their camp. If you can't stampedethem we're down and out. " Jeff and his allies presently moved away together to hold a conferenceof ways and means. The boat crew pulled back to the yacht. The enginesbegan to throb once more. The _Bellingham_ gathered momentum and wassoon plunging forward at full speed. Part 3 With a queer little surge of pride in him Alice watched Jeff and hisfriends move away. They depended on him. Unless he could save it theirfight was lost. To her he was a prophet of the better civilization thatwould some day rise on the ruins of an Individualism grown topheavy. But he was neither a dreamer nor a weakling. His idealism was sane andpractical, and he would fight to the last ditch when he must. And this was another strange thing about him, that though his democracywas a faith, vital and ardent, it was tempered with the liberal spirit. He could make allowances; held no grudges, would laugh away insults atwhich another man would have raged. Out of her very limited experienceAlice decided that he was a great man. That he was so warm and humanwith it all was one of his seizing charms. No boy could have been moreinterested in winning the shuffleboard game than he. The fat pork packer from Chicago came wheezing toward her. He took thesteamer chair beside Alice and jerked his head toward the spot whereJeff had disappeared. "Now if you want my notion, Miss Frome, that's the kind of a man thatbreeds anarchy. I've seen his paper. He fills it full of stuff thatmakes the workingman discontented with his lot. A trouble maker, that'swhat he is. Stops the wheels of industry. Gets in the road of theboosters to croak hard times. " Alice observed the thick rolls of purple fat that bulged over hiscollar. "Progress now, " he went on. "I'm for progress. Develop the country. Thatgives work to the laborers and keeps them contented. But men like Farnumare always hampering development by annoying capital. Now that's foolishbecause capital employs labor. " The young woman suggested another possibility. "Or else labor employscapital. " "What!" The fat little man sat bolt upright in surprise. "I guess younever heard your Uncle Joe Powers talk any such foolishness. " He snortedindignantly. "Hmp! The best friend labor has got is capital. If I hadthe say so I'd crush every labor union--for the good of the workingpeople themselves. " Alice decided that the mental indigestion of the rich sat heavily uponhim. She felt her temper rising and took advantage of the approach ofBeauchamp to leave quickly. "Oh, Lieutenant! Have you seen Valencia?" The Englishman showed surprise. It happened that Alice had at thatmoment a view of Mrs. Van Tyle stretched on a deck chair some thirtyfeet away. Miss Frome hurried him along. Presently, with a low laugh, sheexplained. "I wanted to get away from him. Carelessly, I dropped a newidea there. It's likely to go off. You know how dangerous they are. " "To people who haven't many. Had it anything to do with making money?" "Not directly. " "Then you needn't be alarmed on our stout friend's account. He's immuneto all ideas not connected with that subject. " The double blast of a trumpet invited them to dinner down stairs. Part 4 Dunn was sitting in the smoking room writing his story of the kidnappingwhen a ruddy young Englishman stopped opposite him. "You're Mr. Dunn, are you not? Reporter for the _World?_" "Yes. " The newspaper man looked him over with a swift, trainedattention. "A young lady would like to see you for a few minutes. She is interestedin this shanghaing of Mr. Farnum. " Dunn's black gimlet eyes searched Beauchamp's face. "All right. Glad to see her. " Dunn's story was being transferred to hispocket as he rose. He followed his guide to the ladies' writing room. A slender youngwoman was standing in front of the bookcase. She turned as they entered. Beauchamp introduced the reporter to her, but Dunn failed to catch thename of this rather remarkable looking young lady. "You are to write the story of Mr. Farnum's adventure?" she asked. The reporter's eyes narrowed very slightly. "What story?" "The account of the shanghaing. Oh, I know all about it. Have you allthe facts?" "I'll be glad to hear what you know, Miss--" She answered his hesitation by mentioning her name. Dunn grew more wary. "Miss Alice Frome, daughter of Senator Frome?" "Yes. " "Anything you have to say I'll be pleased to hear, Miss Frome. " To his surprise she broke through the hedge of reserve he had withdrawnbehind. "You distrust me. You think because I'm Senator Frome's daughter that Imust be against Mr. Farnum. Is that it?" "I didn't say that, " he sparred. "I'm not against him. It's because I'm anxious to see him win that Iwant to be sure he has given you the whole story. " "Why shouldn't he give me the whole story?" "Because he isn't the kind to boast. Did he tell you about the sharks?" "Or how Miss Frome helped pull him aboard just in time to save him fromthe crimps?" The reporter's eyes gleamed. "What's that?" he snapped quickly. "And all about the race from the schooner to the _Bellingham, _ It wasthe most exciting thing I ever saw. " "Great guns! What's the matter with Jeff Farnum? He didn't say a wordabout that--missed the cream of the story. " Alice smiled. "I thought perhaps he might have. " "He said he saw a chance to swim across to the _Bellingham. _ That madea pretty good story. But sharks--and the shanghaiers chasing him--anda young lady helping to haul him aboard to safety--and that young ladyMiss Alice Frome! Say, this is the biggest story that ever broke inVerden. If I fall down on it I'm a dead one sure enough. " "You think it will help Mr. Farnum's fight for his bill?" "Help it. Say, I'd give fifty dollars to see James K. Farnum's face whenhe reads the _World_ tomorrow morning. The town will go right up inthe air. Hundreds of telegrams are going to pour in to members of theassembly from their constituents. We'll make a Yale finish of this yet. " "It's lucky Miss Frome recognized Mr. Farnum. Otherwise I suppose hewould have been sent back to the _Nancy Hanks_. " "Oh, Miss Frome recognized him? Jeff said one of the passengers did. Hecouldn't remember who. " "I don't suppose my name is necessary to the story. Just say a youngwoman on board, " Alice suggested. Dunn's black eyes questioned her. "Are you for us, Miss Frome?" She smiled. "I'm for you. " "Against Senator Frome and Mr. Powers?" "I think the bill ought to be passed. I'm not against anybody. " "Well, I'll tell you this. It will help the story a lot to have you init. Some people might say we framed the whole thing up. But with SenatorFrome's daughter starring in it. " "Oh, no, Mr. Farnum's the star. " "Well, you're the leading lady. Don't you see how it helps? Clinches thewhole thing as genuine. It's as good as putting the Senator himself onthe stand as a witness for us. We've just got to have you. " "It will really help, you think?" "No question. " "Very well. " "And photographs. You'll stand for one, of course. " "Now really I don't see. " "They can't get back of a photograph. It carries conviction. Of coursewe've got pictures of you at the office, Miss Frome. But I want to playfair with you. Besides, I want them to show the ship setting. " She laughed. "Don't worry. Your enterprising photographer caught metwice before I knew it. And he got one of my cousin, Mrs. Van Tyle. Shedoesn't know it, though. " "Good boy, Quillen. Now, if you'll begin at the beginning, Miss Frome, I'll listen to your story. " When she had finished his eyes were gleaming. "It's the biggest scoop Iever got in on. Sounds too good to be true. " Part 5 At Gillam's Point Jeff and his friends, with Dunn and Quillen, left the_Bellingham_ on the launch which brought the pilot. They caught the fastexpress a half hour later and reached Verden shortly after midnight. His hat drawn down over his eyes and muffled to the ears in an ulster sothat he might not be recognized, Farnum took a cab with Captain Chunn, Dunn and Quillen for the office of the World. He slipped into thebuilding and his private room unnoticed by any member of the staff. Dunn presently brought to him Jenkins, the make-up man. "Rip your front page to pieces. We've got the story of a life time, "Captain Chunn exploded. Jenkins opened his eyes and grinned at Jeff. "That's what Jim tells me. Have you got the proof to hang the thing on Big Tim?" "I've got a letter he wrote to Captain Green of the _Nancy Hanks_. It'son city hall stationery of the last administration. " "Funny he used that paper. " "Someone usually makes a slip in putting a deal of this kind through. " "And the letter?" "Just a line, signed with O'Brien's initials. 'The terms agreed on aresatisfactory. ' I found the letter in Green's cabin. As I thought I mightmake use of it I helped myself. " "Bully! We'll run a fac-simile of it on the front page. " "Dunn's story covers the whole affair. I don't like some features of it, but our friends say it ought to be run as it stands. I've written threecolumns of editorial stuff dealing with the situation. And here's astory calling for a mass meeting in front of the State House to-morrowmorning. " "You'll speak to the people?" "I'll say a few words. Hardy and Rawson will be the speakers. " "Pity we've lost your cousin. He'd stir them up. " The muscles stood out on Jeff's lean jaw. James was a subject he couldnot yet discuss. "We're nailing the No Compromise flag to our masthead, Jenkins. We've got to prevent them from forcing through Garman'sbill to-morrow. After that every day will be in our favor. Unless I'mmistaken the state will waken up as it never has before. The people willsee how nearly they've been euchred out of what they want. " Jenkins came bluntly to another point. "This story would carry a lotmore weight if those charges made against your character by the otherpapers had been answered. " "Then we'll answer them. " The night editor looked at him dubiously. "They've got four affidavitsto back their story. " "Only four?" A gay smile was dancing in Jeff's eyes. "Both the _Herald_ and the _Advocate_ have been playing it strong. Everyday they rehash the story and challenge a denial. " "It will all be free advertising for us if we can make them eat crow. " "If we can!" Jenkins did not see how any effective answer was possibleand he knew that in the present state of public opinion an unsupportedbluff would be fatal. "How would this do for a starter?" Jeff handed him two typewritten sheets. The night editor read themthrough. He looked straight at Jeff. "Can you back this up?" "I can. " "But--what about those affidavits?" Farnum grinned. "We'll take care of them when we come to them. " "It's your funeral, " Jenkins admitted. The whole front page of the _World_ next morning was filled with theFarnum story. As part of it there were interviews with Alice Frome, withCaptain Barclay, and with other passengers. The deadly note from O'Briento Green of the _Nancy Hanks_ occupied the place usually held by thecartoon. Beneath it, exactly in the center of the page, was a leaded boxwith the caption "A Challenge. " It ran as follows: The editor of the _World_ does not think his reputation important enoughto protect it at the expense of a woman. Yet he denies absolutely theimport of the charges made by the _Herald_ and the _Advocate. _ Thatthe matter may be forever set at rest the _World_ challenges the papersnamed to a searching investigation. It proposes: (1) That the names of five representative citizens of Verden besubmitted to Governor Hawley by each of the three papers, and thatfrom this number be select a committee of five to sift thoroughly theallegations; (2) That the meetings of the committee be held in secret, no members ofthe press being admitted, and that those composing it pledge themselvesnever to divulge the names of any witnesses who may appear to giveevidence; (3) That the _Herald, _ the _Advocate, _ and the _World_ severally agreeto print on the front page for a week the findings of the committee assoon as received and exactly as received, without any editorial or othercomment whatsoever. By the decision of this committee Jefferson Farnum pledges himself toabide. If found guilty, he will at once resign from the editorial chargeof the _World_ and will leave Verden forever. CHAPTER 19 The practical man is the man who knows what can't be done. When he begins to let hope take the place of information in this regard, he becomes a conservative. When prejudice takes the place of hope, the mere conservative graduates into a tory, or a justice of the supreme court. It's all a matter of the chemistry of substitution. --Dr. G. L. Knapp. THE SAFE MAN FURNISHES DIVERSION Part 1 For once the machine had overplayed its hand. Caught unexpectedly byJeff's return, no effective counter attack was possible. Dunn's storyin the _World_ swept the city and the state like wildfire. It was acrouched dramatic narrative and its effect was telling. From it only oneinference could be drawn. The big corporations, driven to the wall, hadattempted a desperate coup to save the day. It was all very well for BigTim to file a libel suit. The mind of the public was made up. The mass meeting at the State House drew an enormous crowd, one so greatthat overflow meetings had to be held. Every corridor in the buildingwas full of excited jostling people. They poured into the gallery ofthe Senate room and packed the rear of the floor itself. Against sucha demonstration the upper house did not dare pass the Garman billimmediately. It was held over for a few days to give the public emotiona chance to die. Instead, the resentment against machine and corporatedomination grew more bitter. Stinging resolutions from the back countieswere wired to members who had backslidden. Committees of prominentcitizens from up state and across the mountains arrived at Verden forheart-to-heart talks with the assemblymen from their districts. At a hurried meeting of the managers of the public utilities companiesit was decided that the challenge of the _World_ must be accepted. Formany who had believed in the total depravity of Jefferson Farnum werebeginning to doubt. Unless the man's character could be impeachedsuccessfully the day was lost. And with four witnesses against him howcould the trouble maker escape? The committee of investigation consisted of Senator Frome; ClintonRogers, the shipbuilder; Thomas Elliott, a law partner of Hardy; JamesMoran, a wholesale wheat shipper, and the leading clergyman of Verden. It sat behind locked doors, adjourning from one office to another toobtain secrecy. For the defense appeared as witnesses Marchant, Miller, Mrs. Andersonand Nellie. To doubt the truth of the young wife's story was impossible. The agony of shyness and shame that flushed her, the simple broken wordsof her little tragedy, bore the stamp of minted gold. It was plain tosee that she was a victim of betrayal, being slowly won back to love oflife by her husband and her child. The committee in its report told the facts briefly without giving names. Even P. C. Frome could find no excuse for not signing it. The effect was instantaneous. On this one throw the machine had stakedeverything. That it had lost was now plain. In a day Jeff was thehero of Verden, of the state at large. His long fight for reform, thedramatic features of the shanghaing and his return, the collapse ofthe charges against his character, all contributed to lift him to dizzypopularity. He was the very much embarrassed man of the hour. All the power of the Transcontinental, of the old city hall gang, of themoney that had been spent to corrupt the legislature, was unable to rollback the tide of public determination. White-faced assemblymen sneakedinto offices at midnight to return the bribe money for which they darednot deliver the goods. Two days after the report of the investigatingcommittee Jeff's bill passed the Senate. Within three hours it wassigned by Governor Hawley. That it would be ratified by a vote of thepeople and so become a part of the state constitution was a foregoneconclusion. Jeff and his friends had forged the first of the tools they neededto rescue the government of the state from the control of the alliedplunderers. Part 2 In the days following her return to Verden Alice Frome devoured thenewspapers as she never had before. They were full of the dramaticstruggle between Jeff Farnum and the forces which hitherto hadcontrolled the city and state. To her the battle was personal. Itcentered on the attacks made upon the character of her friend and hispledge to refute them. When she read in the _Advocate_ the report of the committee Alice wept. It was like her friend, she thought, to risk his reputation for somepoor lost wanderer of the streets. Another man might have done it forthe girl he loved or for the woman he had married. But with Jeff itwould be for one of the least of these. There flashed into her mind anold Indian proverb she had read. "I met a hundred men on the road toDelhi, and they were all my brothers. " Yes! None were too deep sunk inthe mire to be brothers and sisters to Jeff Farnum. Ever since her return Alice had known herself in disgrace with herfather and that small set in which she moved. Her part in the big_World_ story had been "most regrettable. " It was felt that inletting her name be mentioned beside that of one who was a thoroughlydisreputable vagabond she had compromised her exclusiveness and betrayedthe cause of her class. Her friends recalled that Alice had always beena queer girl. Her father and Ned Merrill agreed over a little luncheon at theVerden Club that girls were likely to lose themselves in sentimentalfoolishness and that the best way to stop such nonsense was for one toget married to a safe man. Pending this desirable issue she ought to bediverted by pleasant amusements. The safe man offered to supply these. Part 3 The farthest thing from Merrill's thoughts had been to discuss with herthe confounded notions she had somehow absorbed. The thing to do, ofcourse, was to ignore them and assume everything was all right. Afterall, of what importance were the opinions of a girl about practicalthings? How the thing cropped up he did not afterward remember, but at thethirteenth green he found himself mentioning that all reformers were outof touch with facts. They were not practical. The smug finality of his verdict nettled her. This may or may not havebeen the reason she sliced her ball, quite unnecessarily. But it wasprobably due to her exasperation at the wasted stroke that she let himhave it. "I'm tired of that word. It means to be suicidally selfish. There's notanother word in the language so abused. " "Didn't catch the word that annoys you, " the young man smiled. "Practical! You used it yourself. It means to tear down and notbuild up, to be so near-sighted you can't see beyond your reach. Yourpractical man is the least hopeful member of the community. He standsonly for material progress. His own, of course!" "You sound like a Farnum editorial, Alice. " "Do I?" she flashed. "Then I'll give you the rest of it. He--yourpractical man--is rutted to class traditions. This would not be goodform or respectable. That would disturb the existing order. So let's alldo nothing and agree that all's well with the world. " Merrill greeted this outburst with a complacent smile. "It's a prettygood world. I haven't any fault to find with it--not this afternoonanyhow. " But Alice, serious with young care and weighted with the problems of auniverse, would have none of his compliments. "Can't you see that there's a--a--" She groped and found a fugitivephrase Jeff had once used--"a want of adjustment that is appalling?" "It doesn't appall me. I believe in the survival of the fittest. " Her eyes looked at him with scornful penetration. They went through thewell-dressed, broad-shouldered exterior of him, to see a suave, gracious Pharisee of the modern world. He believed in theGod-of-things-as-they-are because he was the man on horseback. He was aformalist because it paid him to be one. That was why he and his classlooked on any questioning of conditions as almost atheistic. They wereborn to the good things of life. Why should they doubt the ethics of asystem that had dealt so kindly with them? She gave him up. What was the use of talking about such things to him?He had the sense of property ingrained in him. The last thing he wouldbe likely to do was to let any altruistic ideas into his head. He wouldplay safe. Wasn't he a practical man? She devoted herself to the game. To see her play was a pleasure to theeye. The long lines and graceful curves of her supple young body neverappeared to better advantage than at golf. Her motions showed the sylvanfreedom of the woods. Ned Merrill appreciated the long, light tread ofher, the harmony of movement as of a perfect young animal, togetherwith the fine spiritual quality that escaped her personality sounconsciously. At the fifteenth hole he continued her education. "This country isfounded upon individualism. It stands for the best chance of developmentpossible to all its citizens. When you hamper enterprise you stop thatdevelopment. " She took him up dryly. "I see. So you and father and Uncle Joe havedeveloped your individualism at the expense of a million other people's. You have gobbled up franchises, forests, ore lands, coal mines, andevery other opportunity worth having. As a result you're making themyour slaves and crushing out all individuality. " "Not at all. We're really custodians for the people. We administer thesethings for their benefit because we are more fit to do it. " "How do you know you are?" "The very fact that we have succeeded in getting what we have isevidence of it. " "All I can see is that our getting it and keeping it--you and I andUncle Joe and a thousand like us--is responsible for all the poverty inthe world. We're helping to make it every time we eat a dinner we didn'twork to get. " Alice made a beautiful approach that landed her ball within four feet ofthe hole. Presently Merrill joined her. "That was a dandy shot, " he told her, and watched Alice hole out. "Idon't agree with you. For instance, I work as hard as other men. " "But you're not working for the common good. " His impatience reached words. "That sort of talk is nonsense, Alice. Idon't know what has come over you of late. " She smiled provokingly and changed the subject. Why argue with him? Theslant with which they got at things was different. Like her father, hehad the mental rigidity that is death to open-mindedness. Briskly she returned to small talk. "You're only three up. " Part 4 On their way back to the club house the safe man recurred to one phaseof their talk. "You ought not to need any telling as to why I work, Alice. " She shot one swift annoyed glance at him. When Ned Merrill tried thesentimental she liked him least. "Oh, all men like to work, I suppose. Uncle Joe says it's half the funof life. " "Most men work for some woman. I'm working for you, " he told hersolemnly. A little giggle of laughter floated across to him. "What are you laughing about?" he demanded. "Oh, the things I notice. Just now it's you, Ned. " "If you'll explain the joke. " "You wouldn't understand it. Dear me, what are you so stiff about?" Merrill brought things to an issue. "Look here, Alice! What's the use ofplaying fast and loose? I'd like to know where we're at. " "Would you?" "Yes, I would. You know all about the arrangement just as well as I do. I haven't pushed you. I've stood back and let you have your good times. Don't you think it's about time for us to talk business?" "Just as soon as you like, Ned. " "Well, then, let's announce it. " "That we're not engaged to be married and never will be! Is that whatyou want to announce?" He flushed angrily. "What's the use of talking that way? You know it hasbeen arranged for years. " "I'm not going through with it. I told Father so. The thing isoutrageous, " she flamed. "I don't see why. Our people want it. We are fond of each other. I nevercared for any girl but you. " "Let's stick to the business reasons, Ned. " "Hang it, you're so acid about it! I do care for you. " Her dry anger spurted out. "That's unfortunate, since I don't care foryou. " "I know you do. Just now you're vexed at me. " "Yes, I am, " she admitted, nodding her head swiftly. "But it doesn'tmake any difference whether I am or not. I've made up my mind. I'm notgoing through with it. " "You promised. " "I didn't, not in so many words. And I was pushed into it. None of yougave me a fair chance. But I'll not go on with it. " "But, why?" "Because I'm an American girl, and here we don't have to marry toamalgamate business interests. I won't do it. I'd rather be--" She gavea little shrug of her shoulders. The passion died out of her voice. "Oh, well! No need getting melodramatic about it. Just the same, I won't doit. My mind's made up. " "A pretty figure I'll cut, after all these years, " he complainedsulkily. "Everyone will know you jilted me. " Alice turned to him, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "I wouldn't standit if I were you. Show your spunk. " He stared. "What do you mean?" "Why don't you jilt ME?" "Jilt you?" Her head went up and down in a dozen little nods of affirmation. "Yes. Marry Pauline Gillam. You know you'd like to, but you haven't had thecourage to give me up. Now that you've got to give me up anyhow--" "I'm very much obliged, Miss Frome. But I don't think it will benecessary for you to select another wife for me. " "Have you been married once. I didn't know it. " "You know what I mean?" He was stiff as a poker. "I believe I do. " She was in a perfectly good humor again now. "Butyou better take my advice, Ned. Think what a joke it will be on me. Everybody will say you could have had me. " "We'll not discuss the subject if you please. " Nevertheless Alice knew that she had dropped a seed on good ground. CHAPTER 20 Now poor Tom Dunstan's cold, Our shop is duller; Scarce a tale is told, And our talk has lost the old Red-republican color! . .. .. .. .. .. .. 'She's coming, she's coming!' said he; 'Courage, boys I wait and see! 'FREEDOM'S AHEAD!' --Robert Buchanan. THE HERO IS LURED TO AN ADVENTURE INTO THE UNCONVENTIONAL AND HEARS MUCHTHAT IS PAINFUL TO A WELL-REGULATED MIND Near the close of a fine spring afternoon James Farnum and Alice Fromewere walking at the lower end of Powers Avenue. In the conventional garbhe affected since he had become a man of substance the lawyer might haveserved as a model of fashion to any aspiring youth. His silk hat, hislight trousers, the double-breasted coat which enfolded his manly form, were all of the latest design. The weather, for a change, was behavingitself so as not to soil the chaste glory of Solomon thus displayed. There had been rain and would be more, but just now they passed througha dripping world shot full of sunlight. "Of course I'm no end flattered at being allowed to go with you. But I'mdying of curiosity to know where we are going. " The young woman gave James her beguiling smile. "We're going to call ona sick man. I'm taking you along as chaperon. You needn't be flatteredat all. You're merely a convenience, like a hat pin or an umbrella. " "But I'm not sure this is proper. Now as your chaperone--" "You're not that kind of a chaperon, Mr. Farnum. You haven't anyprivileges. Nothing but duties. Unless it's a privilege to be chosen. That gives you a chance to say something pretty. " They crossed Yarnell Way. James, looking around upon the wrecks ofhumanity they began to meet, was very sure that he did not enjoy thisexcursion. An adventure with Miss Frome outside of the conventions wasthe very thing he did not want. What in the world did the girl meananyhow? Her vagaries were beginning to disturb her relatives. So much hehad gathered from Valencia. Before he had got as far as a protest Alice turned in to the entrance ofa building and climbed a flight of stairs. She pushed a button. A womanof rather slatternly appearance came to the door. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Maloney. I've come to see how Mr. Marchant is. " The landlady brushed into place some flying strands of hair. "Well, now, Miss Frome, he's better to-day. The nurse is with him. If you'll jistknock at the door 'twill be all right. " While they were in the passage James interposed an objection. "My dearMiss Frome, I really don't think--" She interrupted brightly. "I'm glad you don't. You're not expected to, you know. I'm commanding this expedition. Yours not to answer why. Yoursbut to do and die. " And she knocked on the door of the room at whichthey had stopped. It was opened by a nurse in uniform. James observed that she, too, likeMrs. Maloney, brightened at sight of the visitor. "Mr. Marchant will be pleased to see you, Miss Frome. " He was. His gladness illuminated the white face through the skin ofwhich the cheek bones appeared about to emerge. A thin blue-veined handshot forward to meet hers. "Oh, comrade, but I'm glad to meet you. " "I think you know Mr. Farnum. " The man propped up in bed nodded a little grin at the lawyer. "We'vemet. It was years ago in Jeff's rooms. " "Oh--er--yes. Yes, I remember. " Presently Jeff and Sam Miller dropped in to see the invalid. From chanceremarks the lawyer gathered that the little cobbler had brought himselfso low by giving his overcoat one bitter night to a poor girl he hadfound shivering in the streets. The frankness with which they discussed before Alice Frome things neverreferred to in good society shocked James. It appeared that the story of this little factory girl who had been ledastray was still urgent in Marchant's mind. At the time of their arrivalhe had just finished scribbling some verses hot from his heart. Jeffread them aloud, in spite of the poet's modest insistence that they wereonly a first draft. "This is a story that two may tell, I am the one, the other's in hell; A story of passionate amorous fire, With the glamor of love to attune the lyre. She traveled the road at breakneck speed, I opened the gates and saddled the steed; "Ride free!" I cried as we dashed along. Her sweet voice echoed a mocking song. " "'Fraid it doesn't always scan. They seldom do, " apologized the authorof the verses. Jeff rapped for order. "The sense of the meeting is that the blushingpoet will please not interrupt. " "Nights of the wildest revel and mirth, Days of sorrow, remorse, and dearth, A heaven of love and a hell of regret-- But there's always the woman to pay my debt. 'Sin, ' says the preacher, 'shall be washed free, The blood of the Lamb was shed for thee. ' Smugly I pass the sacred wine, The woman in hell pays toll for mine. 'I am a pillar of Church and State, She but the broken sport of Fate; This is a story that two may tell, I am the one, the other's in hell. '" There was a moment's silence after Jeff had finished. "What are you going to call your verses?" the nurse asked. "I'll call them, 'She Pays. ' That's the idea of it. " James was distinctly uneasy. There was positively something indecentabout this. He had an aversion to thinking about unpleasant things. Every well-regulated mind ought to have. He would like to make aprotest, but he could not very well do that here. He promised himselfto let Alice Frome know as soon as they were alone what he thought abouther escapades into this world below the dead line. He moved uncomfortably in his chair, and in doing so his gaze fell fullinto the eyes of Sam Miller. The fat librarian was staring at him outof a very white face. Before James could break the spell an unvoicedquestion had been asked and answered. Marchant was already riding the hobby that was religion to him. "Fourdollars a week. That's what she was getting. And her employer is worthtwo millions. Think of it. All her youth to be sold for four dollars aweek. Just enough to keep body and soul together. And when she went tothe head of her department to ask for a raise he leered at her and saida good looking girl like her could always find someone to take care ofher. Eight months she stuck it out, getting more ragged every day. Thenenter the man, offering her some comfort and pleasure and love. Do youblame her?" "You must give me her address, " Alice said softly. Oscar nodded. "Good enough, comrade. Jeff has looked out for her, butshe needs a woman friend. " With a sweep of the hand he went back tothe impersonal. "Her trouble was economic, just as ours is. Look atit. We've got a perfect self-regulating system that adjusts itselfautomatically to bring hard times when we're most prosperous. Give usbig crops and boom times, and we head straight for a depression. Why?"He interrupted himself with a fit of coughing, but presently beganagain, talking also with his swift supple hands. "Because then theforeign market will be glutted. Surplus goods won't sell abroad. Themanufacturer, unable to dispose of his produce, will cut down his forceor close his plant. Labor, out of work, cannot buy. So every branchof industry suffers because we're too well off. It's a vicious absurdcircle born of the system under which we live. Under socialism theremedy would be merely to work less for a time until the surplus wasused. It would affect nobody injuriously. The whole thing's as simple asA B C. " It had been plain to the first casual glance of James that the littleSocialist was far gone. The amazing thing was the eagerness with whichhis spirit dominated the body in such ill case. He was alive to thefingertips, though he was already in the Valley of the Shadow. To thelawyer there was something eerie about it all. Marchant was done withthe business of living. Why didn't he lie down and accept the verdict? But to Alice it was God-like, a thing to stand uncovered before. Hisremedies might be all wrong. Probably they were. None the less his vitalcourage for life took her by the throat. Jeff nodded at the invalid cheerfully. "We're going to change all that, Oscar. Into this little old world a new soul is being born. Or perhapsthe old soul is being born again. " The Socialist caught at this swiftly. "Yes, we're going to change thisterrible waste of human lives. I see a new world, where men will livelike brothers and not like wolves rending each other. There poverty willbe blotted out. .. And disease and all mean and cruel things that hamperand destroy life. Law and justice will walk hand in hand through a landof peace and plenty. Our cities, the expression of our social life, willbe clean and sunny and beautiful because the lives of the common peopleare so. There strong men and deep-breasted women will work for the joyof working, since all is for the common good. Their children will befree and happy and well fed. .. Yes, and equal to each other. From thathighly socialized state, because it is tied together by love, will comethat restrained freedom which is the most perfect individualism. " The nurse forced him gently back upon the pillows. "There! You've talkedenough to-day. " He lay coughing, a hectic flush above the high cheek bones. Presently, at a look from the nurse, his guests departed. Outside the building Miller left the rest abruptly. Flanked by the twocousins, Alice crossed Yarnell Way back to that world to which she hadalways belonged. James laid down the law to her concerning the folly of such excursionsinto the unconventional. Alice listened. She discovered that hisviewpoint was exactly like that of Ned Merrill. Any deviation fromthe conventional was a mistake. Any attempt to escape from existingconditions was a form of treason. Trade, property, business, respectability, good form; these were the shibboleth they worshipped. Itwas just because she did not want to believe this of James Farnum thatshe had taken him with her to call on Marchant. It was in a sense atest, and he was answering it by showing himself complacently callousand hidebound. Surely he had not always been like this, a smug and well-clad Pharisee, afraid to look at the truth. In those early days, when they had beenfriends, with the possibility of being a good deal more, there had beenan impetuous touch of ardor she could no longer find. Her cool glanceran down his figure. The man was taking on flesh, the plump well-fedlook of one who has escaped moral conduct by giving up the fight. Fatcushioned the square jaw and detracted from its strength. For the firsttime she observed a hardening of the eye. The visible deterioration ofan inner collapse was being writ on him. Alice sighed. After all she might have spared herself the trouble. Hehad chosen his path and he must follow it. At the corner of Powers Avenue and Van Ault Street James left them. Itwas natural that the talk should revert to Marchant. "Oscar finds your visits a very great pleasure, " Jeff told her. "The dear madman!" Her eyes were shining softly. "Isn't he brave andoptimistic?" "Yes. " Both of them were thinking how soon the arm of that unseen God of loveand law he worshipped would enfold him. Alice smiled tenderly, and for the moment the street in front of herdanced in a mist. "And his perfect state! Shall we ever realize it?" "We must hope so. Perhaps not in the form he sees it, but in the waywe work it out through a species of evolution. Think of the progresswe have made in the last five years. How many dark corners in the longdisused houses of our minds have been flooded with light!" "Yes. Why have we made more progress in the past few years?" Jeff's eyes held a gleam of humor. "This is a big country with enormousresources. There used to be room for all the most active plunderers tograb something. But lately the grabbing hasn't been so good. We havediscovered that the most powerful robbers are doing their snatching fromus. So we've suffered a moral awakening. " "You don't believe that, " she said quickly. "There's a good deal in the bread and butter interpretation of history. The push of life, its pressure, drives us to think. Out of thought grownew hopes and a broader vision. " "And then?" "Pretty soon the thought will flood the world that we make our ownpoverty, that God and nature have nothing to do with it. After thatwe'll proceed to eliminate it. " "By means of Mr. Marchant's perfect state?" "Not by any revolution of an hour probably. Society cannot change itsnature in a day. We'll pass gradually from our present state to a betterone, the new growing out of the old by generations of progress. But Ithink we will pass into a form of socialism. It will be necessary torepress the predatory instinct in us that has grown strong under thepresent system. I don't much care whether you call it democracy orsocialism. We must recognize how interdependent we are and work togetherfor the common good. " They had come to the car line that would take her home. Up the hill atrolley car was coming. "May I not see you home?" Jeff dared to ask. "You may. " They left the car at Lakeview Park and crossed it to The Brakes. Everystep of that walk led Jeff deeper into an excursion of endearment. Itwas amazingly true that he trod beside her an acknowledged friend, asecret lover. The turn of her head, the shadowy smile bubbling intolaughter, the gracious undulations of the body, indeed the whole deardelight of her presence, belonged for that hour to him alone. CHAPTER 21 Many a man has kept his self-respect through a long lifetime of decalog breaking, only to go to smash like a crushed eggshell when he commits the crime of being found out. --From the Note Book of a Dreamer. THE HERO IS PAINED TO FIND THAT EVEN IN A WELL-REGULATED WORLD THE GODSARE JUST, AND OF OUR PLEASANT VICES MAKE INSTRUMENTS TO PLAGUE US Going back across the park Jeff trod the hilltops. He was not thinkingabout society, except that small unit of it represented by a slender, golden girl who had just bidden him good-bye. And because his heart sangwithin him his footsteps turned toward the office of his cousin. Therehad been between them of late an estrangement. Since the lawyer had beenappointed general attorney for the Transcontinental and had formed apartnership with Scott, thus bringing to the firm the business of thepublic utility corporations, James had not found much time for Jeff. Hewas a member of the most important law firm on the Pacific Coast, judged by the business it was doing, and he had definitely cut loosepolitically from his former associates. His cousin blamed himself forthe change in their personal relations, and he meant to bring thingsback to the old basis if he could. It was past office hours, but a light in the window of the juniormember's private office gave promise that James might be in. Leavingthe elevator at the fourth floor, he walked down the corridor toward thesuite occupied by the firm. Before he reached the door Jeff stopped. Something unusual was happeningwithin. There came to him the sounds of shuffling feet, of furniturebeing smashed, of an angry oath. Almost at once there was a thud, asif something heavy had fallen. The listener judged that a live body wasthrashing around actively. The impact of blows, a heavy grunt, a secondstifled curse, decided Farnum. Pushing through the outer office, heentered the one usually occupied by James. Two men were on the floor, one astride of the other. The man on top wasdriving home heavy jarring blows against his opponent's face and head. Jeff ran forward and dragged him away. "Good heavens, Sam! What's the matter?" his friend demanded in surprise. Miller waited panting, his fists still doubled, the lust of battle inhis eyes. "The damned cad! The damned cad!" was all he could get out. From the floor James Farnum was rising. His forehead, his cheek, and hislips were bleeding from cuts. One of his eyes was closing rapidly. Therewas a dogged look of fear in the battered face. "I tripped over a chair, he explained, glaring at his foe. "Damn you then, stand up and fight!" Disgust and annoyance were pictured on the damaged countenance of thelawyer. "I don't fight with riff raff from the streets. " With a lurch Miller was free from Jeff and at him again. James lashedstraight out and cut open his lip without stopping him. Jeff wrenchedthe furious man back again. A moment later he made a discovery. The fearof his cousin was not physical. "Here! Stop it, man! What's the row about?" Jeff hung on with a stranglehold while he fired his questions. Sam turned a distorted face toward him. "Nellie. " The truth crashed home like a bolt of lightning. James was the man whohad betrayed Nellie Anderson. The thing was incredible, but Jeff knewinstantly it was so. Except where the blood streamed down it the face of the lawyer wascolorless. His lips twitched. "Is this true, James?" The sullen eyes of the detected man fell. "It will ruin me. It will ruinmy career. And all because in a moment of fearful temptation I yielded, God help me. " "God help you!" The angry scorn in Miller's voice burned like vitriol. "God help you! you selfish villain and coward! You pursued her! Youhounded her. You made your own temptation--and hers. And afterward youleft her to bear a lifetime of shame--to kill herself if she couldn'tstand it. When I think of you, smug liar and hell hound, I know thatkilling isn't good enough for you. " "Steady, old man, " counseled Jeff. Miller began to tremble violently. Tears gathered in his eyes andcoursed down his fat cheeks. "And I can't stamp him out. I can't exposehim without hurting her worse. I've got to stand it without touchinghim. " Faintly Jeff smiled. James did not look quite untouched. He was a muchbattered statue of virtue, his large dignity for once torn to shreds. Miller flung himself down heavily in a chair and buried his face in hishands. James began to talk, and as he talked his fluency came back tohim. "It's the only stain on my life record. .. The only one. My life has beenan open book but for that. I was only a boy--and I made a slip. Oughtthat to spoil my whole life, a splendid career of usefulness for thecity and the state? Ought I to be branded for that one error?" Miller looked up whitely. "Shut up, you liar! If it had been a slip youwould have stood by her, you would have married the girl you had ruined. But you left her--to death or worse. She was loyal to you. She kept yoursecret, you damned villain. I wrung it out of her to-day when I wenthome only by pretending that I knew. .. . And you let Jeff bear the blameof it without saying a word. I know now why her name wasn't unearthedby the reporters. You killed the story because you were afraid the truthwould leak out. You haven't a straight hair in your head. You sold outJeff's bill. You're for yourself first and last, no matter who pays theprice. " "That's your interpretation of my career. But what does Verden think ofme? No man stands higher among the best people of the community. " "To hell with you and your best people. I say you're nothing but awhited sepulchre, " snarled Miller. Suddenly he reached for his hat and left the office. He was stifling. He knew that if he stayed he could not keep his hands from his enemy'sthroat. James wrung his hands. "My God, Jeff, it's awful! To think that a littlefault should come out now to ruin me. After I've gone so far and am onthe way to bigger things. It's ghastly luck. Can't you do something?Can't you keep the fellow quiet? I'll pay anything in reason. " Jeff looked at him steadily. "I wouldn't say that to him if I were you. " "Oh, I don't know what I'm saying. " He mopped the blood from his facewith a handkerchief. "I'm half crazy. Did he mark me up badly?" Jamesexamined himself anxiously in the glass. "He's just chopped my face topieces. I'll have to get out of the city to-night and stay away till themarks are gone. But the main point is to keep him from talking. Can youdo it?" For once Jeff's toleration failed him. "He's right. You are a selfishbeggar. Don't you ever think of anyone except yourself?" "I'm not thinking of myself at all, but of--of someone else. You'rewronging me, Jeff. This is not the time to go back on me, now that I'min trouble. You've got to help me out. You've got to keep Miller quiet. If he talks I'm done for. " His cousin looked at him with contemptuous eyes. "Can't you see--haven'tyou fineness enough to see that Sam Miller would cut an arm off beforehe would expose his wife to more talk? Your precious secret's safe. " "It's all very well for you to talk that way, " James complained. "Idon't suppose you ever were put into temptation by a woman. You're not alady's man. I'm the kind they take a shine to for some reason. Now thisAnderson woman--" Sharply Jeff cut in. "That's enough. When you speak of her it won't bein that tone of voice. You'll speak respectfully of her. She's the wifeof my friend; and before she met you was innocent as a child. " "What do you know of her? I tell you, Jeff, there's a type of womanthat's always smiling round the corner at you. I don't say I did rightto yield to her. Of course I didn't. But, hang it, I'm not a block ofwood. I've got red blood in my veins. The whip of youth drove me on. You've probably never noticed it, but she was a devilish pretty girl. " He was swimming into his phrases so fluently that Jeff knew he wouldsoon persuade himself that he had been the victim of her wiles. So, nodoubt, in one sense, he had. She had laid her innocent bait to win hisfriendship, with never a thought of what was to come of it. "It happened of course while you were rooming there, " the editor shot athim. James nodded sullenly. His cousin knew now that more than once he had put away doubts of James. When Sam Miller told him of her disappearance he had thought of thelawyer and had dismissed his suspicions as unworthy. He had alwaysbelieved James to be a more moral man than himself, and he had turnedhis own back on the temptation lest it might prove too great for him. Itwould have been better for Nellie if he had stayed and fought it out toa finish. James began further explanations. "Look at it the way it is. She putherself in my way. " Two steps carried Jeff to him. Without touching James he stood close tohim, arms rigid and eyes blazing. "Don't say that again, you liar. Youruined her life. You let her suffer. She might have died for all of you. She nursed your child and never whispered the name of its father. SamMiller is charging himself with the keep of your daughter. Do you thinkshe hasn't paid a hundred times for her mistake? Now, by God, keep yourmouth shut! Be decent enough not to fling mud at her, you of all men. " James shrugged his shoulders and turned away in petulant disgust. "Isee. You've heard her side of it and you've made up your mind. Allright. I've nothing more to say. " "I've never heard her side of it. Her own mother doesn't know the truth. Sam didn't know not till to-day. But I know her--and now I know you. " "That's no way to talk, Jeff. I admit I did wrong. Can a man say morethan that? Do you want me to crawl on my hands and knees?" "It's easy for you to forgive yourself. " "Maybe you think I haven't suffered too. I've lain awake nights worryingover this. " "Yes. For fear you might be found out. " "I intended to look out for the girl, but she disappeared withoutletting me know where she was going. What could I do?" The lawyer wasstudying his face very carefully in the glass. "My face is a sight. Itwill be weeks before that eye is fit to be seen. " Jeff turned away and left him. He walked to his rooms and found hisuncle waiting for him. Robert Farnum had sold out his interests inArkansas and returned to Verden with the intention of buying a smallmill in the vicinity. Meanwhile he had the apartment next to the oneused by his nephew. "Seen anything of James lately?" he inquired as they started down thestreet to dinner. "Yes. I saw him to-day. He's leaving town for a week or so. " "On business, I suppose. He didn't mention it when I saw him Wednesday. " "It's a matter that came up suddenly, I understand. " The father agreed proudly. There were moments when he had doubts ofJames, but he always stifled them by remembering what a splendid successhe was. "Probably something nobody else could attend to but him. " "Exactly. " "It's amazing how that boy gets along. His firm has the cream of thecorporation business of Verden. I never saw anything like it. " The younger man assented, rather wearily. Somehow to-night he did notfeel like sounding the praises of James. His uncle's kindly gaze rested on him. "Tired, boy?" "I think I am a little. I'll be all right after we've had something toeat. " CHAPTER 22 But when your arms are full of girl and fluff You hide your nerve behind a yard of grin; You'd spit into a bulldog's face, or bluff A flock of dragons with a safety pin. Life's a slow skate, but love's the dopey glim That puts a brewery horse in racing trim. --Wallace Irwin. CANARIES SING FOR THE HERO Part 1 James Farnum had been back in Verden twenty-four hours. A few littlescars still decorated his handsome visage, but he explained them awaywith the story of a motor car accident. Just now he was walking to thebank, and he had spoken his piece five times in a distance of threeblocks. From experience he was getting letter perfect as to the details. Even the idiotic joke about the clutch seemed now a necessary part ofthe recital. It was just as he was crossing Powers that a motor car whirled aroundthe corner and down upon a man descending from a street car. Thechauffeur honked wildly and rammed the brakes home. Simultaneously Jamesleaped, flinging his weight upon the man standing dazed in the path ofthe automobile. The two went down together, and for a moment Farnum knewonly a crash of the senses. He was helped to his feet. Voices, distant and detached, asked whetherhe was hurt. Blood trickled into his eyes from a cut in the head. Itcame to him oddly enough that his story about the motor car accidentwould now be true. A slender figure in gray slipped swiftly past him and knelt beside thestill shape lying on the asphalt. "Bring water, Roberts!" James knew that clear, sweet voice. It could belong only to Alice Frome. "Are you much hurt, Mr. Farnum?" "No, I think not--a cut over my eye and a few bruises. " "I'm so glad. But this poor old man--I'm afraid he's badly hurt. " "Was he run over?" "No. You saved him from that. You don't know him, do you?" The lawyer looked at the unconscious man and could not repress a start. It was his father. For just an eyebeat he hesitated before he said, "I've seen him before somewhere. " "We must take him to the hospital. Isn't there a doctor here? Someonerun for a doctor. " The young woman's glance swept the crowd in appeal. "I'll take care of him. Better get away before the crowd is too large, Miss Frome. " "No. It was our machine did it. Oh, here's a doctor. " A pair of lean, muscular shoulders pushed through the press after thedoctor. "Much hurt, James?" inquired their owner. "No. For heaven's sake, get Miss Frome away, Jeff, " implored his cousin. "Miss Frome!" Jeff stepped forward with an exclamation. The young woman looked up. She was kneeling in the street and supportingthe head of the wounded man. Her face was almost as bloodless as his. "We almost ran him down. Your cousin jumped to save him. He isn't dead, doctor, is he?" Jeff turned swiftly to his cousin and spoke in a low voice. "It's yourfather. " The lawyer pushed forward with a manner of authority. "This won't do, doctor. The crowd's growing and we're delaying thetraffic. Let us lift him into the machine and take him to the hospital. " "Very good, Mr. Farnum. " "Doctor, will you go with him to the hospital? And Jeff. .. You, too, ifyou please. " A minute later the car pushed its way slowly through the crush of peopleand disappeared. James was left standing on the curb with Alice. He spoke brusquely. "Someone call a cab, please. .. . I'll send you home, Miss Frome. " "No, to the hospital, " she corrected. "I couldn't go home now withoutknowing how he is. " "Very well. Anything to get away from here. " "And you can have your cut attended to there. " "Oh, that's nothing. A basin of cold water is all I need. Here's thecab, thank heaven. " The girl's gaze followed the automobile up the hill as she waited forthe taxicab to stop. "I do hope he isn't hurt badly, " she murmuredpiteously. "Probably he isn't. Just stunned, the doctor seemed to think. Anyhow itwas an unavoidable accident. " The eyes of the young woman kindled. "I'll never forget the way youjumped to save him. It was splendid. " James flushed with pleasure. "Nonsense. I merely pushed him aside. " "You merely risked your life for his. A bagatelle--don't mention it, "the girl mocked. Farnum nodded, the old warmth for her in his eyes. "All right, I'll takeall the praise you want to give me. It's been a good while since youhave thought I deserved any. " Alice looked out of the window in a silence that appeared to accuse him. "Yet once"--She felt in his fine voice the vibration of feeling--"oncewe were friends. We met on the common ground of--of the spirit, " herisked. Her eyes came round to meet his. "Is it my fault that we are not stillfriends?" "I don't know. Something has come between us. What is it?" "If you don't know I can't tell you. " "I think I know. " He folded his handkerchief again to find a spotunstained. "You wanted me to fit into some ideal of me you hadformed. Am I to blame because I can't do it? Isn't the fault with yourausterity? I've got to follow my own convictions--not Jeff's, not evenyours. Life's a fight, and it's every man for himself. He has to workout his own salvation in his own way. Nobody can do it for him. Thefinal test is his success or failure. I'm going to succeed. " "Are you?" The compassion of her look he could not understand. "But howshall we define success?" "It's getting power and wielding it. " "But doesn't it depend on how one wields it?" "Yes. It must be made to produce big results. Now my idea of asuccessful man is your uncle, Joe Powers. " "And my idea of one is your cousin, Jefferson Farnum. " The young man sat up. "You're not seriously telling me that you thinkJeff is successful as compared with Joe Powers?" "Yes. In my opinion he is the most successful man I ever met. " James was annoyed. "I expect you have a monopoly in that opinion, MissFrome--unless Jeff shares it. " "He doesn't. " The lawyer laughed irritably. "No, I shouldn't think he would. " He addeda moment later: "I don't suppose Jeff is worth a hundred dollars. " "Probably not. " "And Joe Powers is worth a hundred millions. " "That settles it. I must have been wrong. " Alice looked at him with aflash of demure daring. "Valencia said something to me the other day Ididn't quite understand. Ought I to congratulate you?" "What did she say?" he asked eagerly. "Oh, I'll not tell you what she said. My question was in first. " "You may as well, though it's still a secret. Nobody knows it but youand me. " "And Valencia. " "I didn't know she knew it yet. " Alice stared. "Not know that she is going to marry you? Then it isn'treally arranged?" "It is and it isn't. " "Oh!" "I know it and she suspects it. " "Is this a riddle?" "Riddle is a good word when we speak of your cousin, " he admittedjudicially. "Perhaps I asked a question I ought not to have. " "Not at all. I'm trying to answer you as well as I can. Last time Imentioned the subject she laughed at me. " "So you've asked her?" "No, I told her. " "And she said?" "Regretted that other plans would not permit her to fall in with mine. " "Then I don't quite see how you are so sure. " "That's just what she says, but I've a notion she is planning thetrousseau. " Alice flashed a sidelong look at him. Was he playing with her? Or did hemean it? "You'll let me know when I may safely congratulate you, " she retortedironically. "Now is the best time. I may not see you this evening. " "Oh, it's to be this evening, is it?" "To the best of my belief and hope. " His complacency struck a spark from her. "You needn't be so cock sure. Idaresay she won't have you. " His smile took her into his confidence. "That's what I'm afraid ofmyself, but I daren't let her see it. " "That sounds better. " "I think she wants to eat her cake and have it, too. " "Meaning, please?" "That she likes me, but would rather hold me off a while. " Alice nodded. "Yes, that would be like Val. " "Meanwhile I don't know whether I'm to be a happy man or not. " Her fine eyes looked in their direct fashion right into his. "I must sayyou appear greatly worried. " "Yes, " he smiled. "You must be tremendously in love with her. " "Ye-es, thank you. " "Why are you going to marry her then--if she'll let you?" "Now I'm having Joe Powers' railroads and his steamboats and his minesthrown at me, am I not?" he asked lightly. "No, I don't think that meanly of you. I know you're a victim ofambition, but I don't suppose it would take you that far. " He gave her an ironical bow. "Thanks for this testimonial of respect. You're right. It wouldn't. I'm going to marry Joe Power's daughter, _Deovolente_ because she is the most interesting woman I know and the mostbeautiful one. " "Oh! That's the reason. " "These, plus a sentimental one which I can't uncover to the cynical eyesof my young cousin that is to be, are my motives; though, mind you, I'mnot fool enough to be impervious to the railroads and the ocean linersand the mines you didn't mention. I hope my reasons satisfy you, " headded coolly. "If they satisfy Val they do me, but very likely you'll find theywon't. " "The doubt adds a fillip to the situation. " Her eyes had gone from time to time out of the window. Now she gave asigh of relief. "Here we are at the hospital. Oh, I do hope that poorman is all right!" "I'm sure he is. He was recovering consciousness when they left. James helped her out of the cab and they went together up the steps. Inthe hall they met Jeff. He had just come down stairs. "Everything's all right. His head must have struck the asphalt, butthere seems to be no danger. " Alice noticed that the newspaper man spoke to his cousin and not to her. Part 2 Though Valencia Van Tyle had not made up her mind to get married, Jameshit the mark when he guessed that she was interesting herself in theaccessories that would go with such an event. The position she took inthe matter was characteristic. She had gone the length of taking expertcounsel with her New York modiste concerning gowns for the occasion, without having at all decided that she would exchange her presentindependence for another venture into stormy matrimonial seas. "Perhaps I shatn't have to make up my mind at all, " she found amusementin chuckling to herself. "What a saving of trouble it would be if hewould abduct me in his car. I could always blame him then if it did notturn out well. " Something of this she expressed to James the evening of the day of theaccident, watching him through half-shuttered eyes to see how he wouldtake her first concession that she was considering him. He took without external disturbance her gay, embarrassed suggestion, the manner of which might mean either shyness or the highest expressionof her art. "I'd kidnap you fast enough except that I don't want to rob you of thefun of getting ready. How long will it take you? Would my birthday betoo soon? It's on the fourth of June. " "Too soon for what?" she asked innocently. "For my birthday present--Valencia Powers. " She liked it that he used her maiden surname instead of her married one. It seemed to imply that he loved her in the swift, ardent way of youth. "Are you sure you want it?" The lawyer appreciated her soft, warm allurement, the appeal of sex withwhich she was so prodigally endowed. His breath came a little faster. "He won't be happy till he gets it. " Her faint laughter rippled out. "That's just the point, my friend. Willhe be happy then? And, which is more important to her, will she?" "That's what I'm here to see. I'm going to make you happy. " She laced her fingers behind her tawny head, not quite unaware perhapsthat the attitude set off the perfect modeling of her soft, supple body. "I don't doubt your good intentions, but it takes more than that to makemarriage happy when the contracting parties are not Heaven-sent. " "But we are--we are. " Valencia shook her head. "Oh, no! There will be no rapturous song ofbirds for us, none of that fine wantonness that doesn't stop to countthe cost. If we marry no doubt we'll have good reasons, but not the verybest one--that we can't help it. " He would not consent to that. "You're not speaking for me. The birdssing, Valencia. " "Canaries in a cage, " she mocked. "You've forgotten two things. " "Yes?" "That you are the most beautiful woman on earth, and that I'm a man, with red blood in my veins. " Under lowered lids she studied him. This very confident, alert American, modern from head to heel, attracted her more than any other man. Therewas a dynamic quality in him that stirred her blood. He was efficient, selfish enough to win, and yet considerate in the small things that goto make up the sum of existence. Why not then? She must marry some timeand she was as nearly in love as she would ever be. "What ARE your reasons for wanting me?" "We smoke the same Egyptians, " he mocked. "That's a good reason, so far as it goes. " "And you're such a charming puzzle that I would like to domesticate itand study the eternal mystery at my leisure. " "Then it's as a diversion that you want me. " "A thing of beauty and a joy forever, the poet puts it. But diversionif you like. What greater test of charming versatility for a womanthan that she remain a diversion to her husband, unstaled by custom andundulled by familiarity?" After all her father would be pleased to have her marry an Americanbusiness man. The Powers' millions could easily buy for her a fine olddukedom if she wanted one. At present there was more than one availabletitle-holder on her horizon. But Valencia did not care to take up theresponsibilities that go with such a position. She was too indolentto adapt her life to the standards of others--and perhaps too proud. Moreover, it happened that she had had enough of the club man type inthe late lamented Van Tyle. This man was a worker. He would not annoyher or interfere with her careless pleasures. Again she asked herself, Why not? "I suppose you really do like me. " Her face was tilted in gay littleappeal. "I'm not going to tell you how much. It wouldn't be good for disciplinein the house. " Her soft little laugh bubbled over. "We seem to have quite settled it. And I hadn't the slightest notion of agreeing to anything so ridiculouswhen I ventured that indiscreet remark about an abduction. " She lookedup at him with smiling insolence. "You're only an adventurer, you know. I daresay you haven't even paid for the car in which you were going tokidnap me. " "No, " he admitted cheerfully. "I wonder what Dad will think of it. " "He'll thank Heaven you didn't present him with a French or Italiancount to support. " "I believe he will. His objection to Gus was that he looked like aforeigner and never had done a day's work in his life. Poor Gus! Hedidn't measure up to Dad's idea of a man. Now I suppose you could earn aliving for us. " "I'm not expecting you to take in sewing. " "Are you going to do the independent if Dad cuts up rough?" she askedsaucily. "Independent is the word. " He smiled with a sudden appreciation of thesituation. "And I take it he means to cut up rough. I wired him to-day Iwas going to ask you to marry me. " "You didn't. " "Yes. " "But wasn't that a little premature? Perhaps it wouldn't have beennecessary. Or did you take me for granted?" "There was always the car for a kidnapping in case of necessity, " hejoked. "Why did you do it?" "I wanted to be above board about it even if I am an adventurer. " "What did he say? How could you put it in a telegram?" "Red consoles marooned sweet post delayed. " "Dear me! What gibberish is that?" "It's from our private code. It means, 'Going to marry your daughter ifshe is willing. With your consent, I hope. '" "And he answered? I'll take the English version, please. " "'Consent refused. No fortune hunters need apply. ' That is not a directquotation, but it conveys his meaning accurately enough. " "So I'm to be cut off with a shilling. " Her eyes bubbled with delight. "I reckon so. Of course I had to come back at him. " "How, may I ask?" She was vastly amused at this novel correspondence. "Oh, I merely said in substance that I was glad to hear it because youcouldn't think now I wanted to marry you for your money. I added thatif things came my way we would send him cards later. One doesn't like toslang one's wife's father, so I drew it mild. " "I don't believe a word of it. You wouldn't dare. " That she admired and at the same time distrusted was so apparent that hedrew a yellow envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. "This is his latest contribution to the literature of frankness. Yousee his feelings overflowed so promptly he had to turn loose in goodAmerican talk right off the bat. Couldn't wait for the code. " She read aloud. "Your resignation as General Counsel Transcontinentalwill be accepted immediately. Turn over papers to Walker and go to thedevil. " It was signed "Powers. " "That's all, is it? No further exchange of compliments, " she wanted toknow. "That's all, except that he is reading my resignation by this time. Isent it two hours ago. In it I tried to convey to him my sense of regretat being obliged to sever business relations owing to the fact thatI was about to contract family ties with him. I hoped that he wouldcommand me in any way he saw fit and was sorry we couldn't come to anagreement in the present instance. " "I don't believe you're a bit sorry. Don't you realize what an expensiveluxury you're getting in me and how serious a thing it is to cast offheaven knows how many millions?" "Oh, I realize it!" "But you expect him to come round when he has had time to think itover?" "It's hard for me to conceive of anybody not wanting me for ason-in-law, " he admitted cheerfully. Valencia nodded. "He'll like you all the better for standing up to him. He's fond of Alice because she's impudent to him. " "I didn't mean to be impudent, but I couldn't lie down and let him proveme what he called me. " "If you're that kind of a man I'm almost glad you're going to make memarry you, " she confided. He leaned over her chair, his eyes shining. "I'll make you more thanalmost glad, Valencia. You're going to learn what it is to--oh, damnit!" He was impersonally admiring her Whistler when the maid brushed asidethe portieres. She had come to bring Mrs. Van Tyle a telegram. "No answer, Pratt. " After the maid had retired her mistress called James to her side. Overher shoulder he read it. "Glad he is an American and not living on his father. Didn't think youhad so much sense. Tell that young man I want to see him in New Yorkimmediately. " The message was signed with the name of her father. "What do you suppose he wants with you in New York?" James was radiant. He kissed the perfect lips turned toward him beforehe answered. "Oh, to make me president of the Transcontinental maybe. How should I know? It's an olive branch. Isn't that enough?" "When shall you go?" He looked at his watch. "The limited leaves at nine-thirty. That givesme nearly an hour. " "You're not going to-night?" "I'm going to-night. I must, dear. Those are the orders and I've got toobey them. " "But suppose I give you different orders. Surely I have some rights, to-night of all nights. Why, we haven't been engaged ten minutes. Business doesn't always come first. " James hesitated. "It's the last thing I want to do, but when Joe Powerssays 'Come!' I know enough to jump. " "But when I say stay?" she pleaded. "Then I stop the prettiest mouth in the world with kisses and run awaybefore I hear the order. " Gaily he suited the action to the word. But, for once swift, she reached the door before him. "Wait. Don't go, dear. " The last word came faintly, unexpectedly. The enticement of the appealwent to his head. He had shaken her out of the indifference that was herpride. One arm slipped round her waist. His other hand tilted back herhead until he could look into the eyes in which a new fire had beenkindled. "What about that almost glad? If I stay will you forget all qualifyingwords and be just glad?" She nodded quickly, laughing ever so softly. "Yes, I'll help you listento the birds sing. Do you know I can almost hear them?" James drew a deep breath and caught her swiftly to him. "New York willhave to wait till to-morrow. The birds will sing to-night and we willnot count the cost. " "Yes, my lord, " she answered demurely. For to-night she wanted to forget that their birds were only cagedcanaries. CHAPTER 23 "And what are the names of the Fortunate Isles, Lo! duty and love and a large content; And these are the Isles of the watery miles That God let down from the firmament. Lo! duty and love and a true man's trust, Your forehead to God and your feet in the dust: Lo! duty and love and a sweet babe's smiles, And these, O friends, are the Fortunate Isles. " AND LARKS FOR THE REBEL Beneath a sky faintly pink with the warning of the coming sunrise Jeffwalked an old logging trail that would take him back to camp from hismorning dip. Ferns and blackberry bushes, heavy with dew, reached acrossthe road and grappled with each other. At every step, as he pushedthrough the tangle, a shower of drops went flying. His was the incomparable buoyant humor of a lover treading a newbornworld. A smile was in his eyes, tender, luminous, cheerful. He thoughtof the woman whom he had not seen for many months, and he was buoyed upby the fine spiritual edge which does not know defeat. Win or lose, itwas clear gain to have loved her. With him he carried a vision of her, young, ardent, all fire and flame. One spoke of things beautiful and her face lit from within. Her words, motions, came from the depths, half revealed and half concealed dearhidden secrets. He recalled the grace of the delicate throat curve, little tricks of expression, the sweetness of her energy. The forest broke, opening into a clearing. He stood to drink in itsbeauty, for the sun, peeping over a saddle in the hills, had painted theplace a valley of gold and russet. And while he waited there came out ofthe woods beyond, into that splendid setting, the vision that was in hismind. He was not surprised that his eyes were playing him tricks. This wasafter all the proper frame for the picture of his golden sweetheart. Lance-straight and slender, his wood nymph waded knee deep through theferns. Straight toward him she came, and his temples began to throb. Asylph of the woods should be diaphanous. The one he saw was a creatureof color and warmth and definiteness. Life, sweet and mocking, flowedthrough her radiantly. His heart sang within him, for the woman he lovedout of a world of beautiful women was coming to him, light-footed asDaphne, the rhythm of the morning in her step. She spoke, commonplace words enough. "Last night I heard you were here. " "And I didn't know you were within a thousand miles. " "We came back to Verden Thursday and are up over Sunday, " she explained. He was lost in the witchery of the spell she cast over him. Not thedrooping maidenhair ferns through which she trailed were moredelicate or graceful than she. But some instinct in him played surfacecommonplaces against the insurgent emotion of his heart. "You like Washington?" "I like home better. " "But you were popular at the capital. I read a great deal in the papersabout your triumphs. " The dye in her cheeks ran a little stronger. There had been much gossipabout a certain Italian nobleman who had wooed her openly and madly. "They told a lot of nonsense. " "And some that wasn't nonsense. " "Not much. " She changed the subject lightly. "You read all about thewedding, of course. " He quoted. "Miss Alice Frome as maid of honor preceded the bride, appearing in a handsome gown of very delicate old rose satin with anoverdress of--" "Very good. You may go to the head of the class, sir. Valencia wasbeautiful and your cousin never looked more handsome. " "Which is saying a good deal. " "And we're all hoping they will live happy ever after. " "You know he is being talked of for United States Senator already. " "You will oppose him?" she asked quickly. "I shall have to. " "Still an irreconcilable. " Her smile could be vivid, and just now itwas. "Still a demagogue and a trouble maker, " he admitted. "You've won the recall and the direct primary since I left. " "Yes. We've been busy. " "And our friends--how are they?" "You should see Jefferson Davis Farnum Miller. He's two months old andas fat as a dumpling. " "I've seen him. He's a credit to his godfather. " "Isn't he? That's one happy family. " "I wonder who's to blame for that, " she said, the star flash in hereyes. "Nellie told you?" "She told me. " "They exaggerate. Nobody could have done less than I. " "Or more. " She did not dwell upon the subject. "Tell me about Mr. Marchant. " He went over for her the story of the little poet's gentle death. Shelistened till he made an end. "Then it was not hard for him?" "No. He had one of his good, eager days, then guietly fell asleep. " "And passed to where, beyond these voices, there is rest and peace, " shequoted, ever so softly. "Yes. " "Perhaps he knows now all about his Perfect State. " Her wistful smilewas very tender. "Perhaps. " They walked together slowly across the valley. "It is nearly six months since I have seen you. " "Five months and twenty-seven days. " The words had slipped out almostwithout her volition. She hurried on, ashamed, the color flying in hercheeks, "I remember because it was the day we ran down your cousin andthat old gentleman. It has always been a great comfort to me to knowthat he was not seriously injured. " "No. It was only the shock of his fall. " "What was his name? I don't think I heard it. " There was just an instant's silence before he pronounced, "Farnum--Mr. Robert Farnum. " "A relative of yours?" "Yes. " Across her brain there flashed a fugitive memory of three words Jeff hadspoken to his cousin the day of the accident. "It's your father. " But how could that be? She had always understood that both the parentsof James were dead. The lawyer had denied knowing the man whose lifehe had saved. And yet she had been sure of the words and of a furtive, frightened look on the face of James. According to the story of the_Herald_ the father of Jefferson, a former convict, was named Robert. But once, when she had made some allusion to it Captain Chunn hadexploded into vigorous denial. It was a puzzle the meaning of which shecould not guess. "He has several times mentioned his wish to thank you for yourkindness, " Jeff mentioned. "I'll be glad to meet him. " Swiftly she flashed a question at him. "Ishe James Farnum's father?" "Haven't you read the papers? He is said to be mine. " "But he isn't. He isn't. I see it now. James was ashamed to acknowledgea father who had been in prison. Your enemies made a mistake and you letit go. " "It's all long since past. I wouldn't say anything about it to anybody. " "Of course you wouldn't, " she scoffed. Her eyes were very bright. Shewanted to laugh and to weep at her discovery. "You see it didn't matter with my friends. And my reputation was beyondhope anyhow. It was different with James. " She nodded. "Yes. It wouldn't have improved his chances with Valencia, "her cousin admitted. Jeff permitted himself a smile. "My impression was that he did not haveMrs. Van Tyle in mind at the time. " They had waded through the wet ferns to the edge of the woods. As hereyes swept the russet valley through which they had passed Alice drew adeep breath of pleasure. How good it was to be alive in such a worldof beauty! A meadow lark throbbed its three notes at her joyfully toemphasize their kinship. An English pheasant strutted across the pathand disappeared into the ferns. Neither the man nor the woman spoke. Allthe glad day called them to the emotional climax toward which they wereracing. Womanlike, Alice attempted to evade what she most desired. He was to beher mate. She knew it now. But the fear of him was in her heart. "Were you so fond of him? Is that why you did it for him?" she asked. "I didn't do it for him. " "For whom then?" He did not answer. Nor did his eyes meet hers. They were fixed on themoving ferns where the pheasant had disappeared. Alice guessed. He had done it for the girl because he thought her inlove with his cousin. A warm glow suffused her. No man made such asacrifice for a woman unless he cared for her. The meadow lark flung out another carefree ecstasy. The theme of it wasthe triumphant certainty that love is the greatest thing in the world. Jeff felt that it was now or never. "I love you. It's been hidden in my heart more than eight years, butI find I must tell you. All the arguments against it I've rehearsed athousand times. The world is at your feet. You could never love a manlike me. To your friends I'm a bad lot. They never would consider me amoment. " Gently she interrupted. "Is it my friends you want to marry?" The surprise of it took him by the throat. His astonished eyesquestioned for a denial. In that moment a wonderful secret was born intothe world. She held out both hands with a divine frankness, a sweetnessof surrender beyond words. "But your father--your people!" "'Where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people. "' Shemurmured it with a broken little laugh that was a sob. Even then he did not take her in his arms. The habit of reverence forher was of many years' growth and not to be broken in an instant. "You are sure, dear--quite sure?" "I've been sure ever since the day of our first talk on the_Bellingham. _" Still he fought the joy that flooded him. "I must tell you the truth sothat you won't idealize me. .. And the situation. I am enlisted in thisfight for life. Where it will lead me I don't know. But I must followthe road I see. You will lose your friends. They will think me a crank, an enemy to society; and they will think you demented. But even for youI can't turn back. " A tender glow was in her deep eyes. "If I did not know that do you thinkI would marry you?" "But you've always had the best things. You've never known what it is tobe poor. " "No, I've never had the best things, never till I knew you, dear. I'vestarved for them and did not know how to escape the prison I was in. Then you came. .. And you showed me. The world is at my feet now. Not theworld you meant, of idleness and luxury and ennui. .. But that better oneof the spirit where you and I shall walk together as comrades of all whowork and laugh and weep. " "If I could be sure!" "Of me, Jeff?" "That I can make you happy. After all it's a chance. " "We all live on a chance. I'll take mine beside the man I love. There isone way under heaven by which men may be saved. I'm going to walk thatway with you, dear. " Jeff threw away the reins of a worldly wise prudence. "For ever and ever, Alice, " he cried softly, shaken to his soul. As their lips met the lark throbbed a betrothal song. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. They went slowly through the wet ferns, hand in hand. It was amazinglytrue that he had won her, but Jeff could scarce believe the miracle. More than once he recurred to it. "You saw what no other young woman of your set in Verden did, the humanin me through my vagabondage. But why? There's nothing in my appearanceto attract. " "Valiant in velvet, light in ragged luck, " she laughed. "And I won'thave you questioning my taste, sir. I've always thought you verygood-looking, if you must have it. " "If you're as far gone as that!" His low laughter rang out to meet hers, for no reason except the best of reasons--that they walked alone withlove through a world wonderful.