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Thieves
Aix, Frederick Bausman, Duffield
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THIEVES









"A thousand times had hope and love encouraged him.


THIEVES
A NOVEL
BY
AI X
AUTHOR OF "ADVENTURES OF A NICE YOUNG MAN"
"RICHES I ELEGANCE I WHEW I ALL THAT YOU PEOPLE HAVE TO DO IS
TO BE BORN, BUT A POOR DEVIL LIKE ME THAT NOBODY EVER HEARD OF HAS
TO USE MORE BRAINS JUST TO KEEP SOUL AND BOI TOGETHER THAN HAVE
BEEN PUT INTO THE GOVERNMENT OF THIS COUNTRY .IB PAST FORTY YEARS."
Le Mariagi de Fiearo (Adapted).

NEW YORK
DUFFIELD & COMPANY
1911


Copyright, zgn, by
Dtiffield <S-» Company


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"A thousand times had hope and love encour-
aged him" Frontispiece
FACING PAGE
"The American system's good enough for me" . . . 79
"It was perfectly plain that the stepmother was guilty" 185
"Descended for the last time the stairs of her father's
house" 307


PROLOGUE
"A magnificent house that. Whose is it?"
"Wallowell Severn's, one of our big steel million-
aires His summer home. My firm was the agent in
picking up the different properties. Yes, sir, mag-
nificent's the word!"
"About a hundred acres, I should suppose."
"Yes. Town house superb, too. You can't count
his money. We had to buy a dozen small places to
make room for this and tear 'em down."
"Family?"
"Y—yes. Small child by second marriage and a
daughter by his first wife—great beauty. Goes in the
swell set. I've seen her, not close, of course, when I'm
on business with the old man. He's got absolute con-
fidence in my firm."
"What's that little house down there for?"
"That cottage? Why, that belongs to a young
lawyer who won't sell out—one of these political econ-
omists and theorizers, smart fellow but an obstruc-
tionist."
"A palace! Well, suppose we drive on."


CHAPTER I
TJ WALLOWELL SEVERN was a short, fat
• man around whose neck, to use the language of
Dryden, the double dewlap hung. He had inherited
the riches of two old Pittsburgh families, the Hog-
gatts and the Wallowells, long famous in the manu-
facture of steel, and he had seen his vast inheritance
accumulate without effort on his part every year of
his life. Never having had to make concession to
anybody, he reached the age of sixty with almost as
much obstinacy and ill temper as money, and if
millions of people were taxed to support his luxury,
he doubted not it was the ordinance of Heaven. Of
the intellect and genius of such iron-masters as Frick
and Carnegie he had not an iota, for he was one of
a numerous class in Pittsburgh, little known to the
world, who have silently reveled these thirty years in
the hereditary spoils of tariff.
A widower at fifty-five, good Severn had taken
to himself a second wife. She was much younger
and more elegant in appearance than he, little above
thirty, and fully equal to him in selfishness, pride and
irritability. There was no love lost between them,
as the saying is. The little that he wanted he got, a
boy and an aristocratic spouse. She, for her part,
considered that in bearing the child she had done him
3


4
THIEVES
full duty while making an investment in his fortune
by the security of the offspring.
As for the brat himself, a bawling progeny of lust
and hate now four years old, he united in his one
small person the dispositions of both his parents and
was past all endurance with his temper, being able
when thwarted in the smallest trifle to emit a yell that
would drown the din of perdition. A more unamiable
whelp never was heir to riches. However, the house
was relieved of him a week at a time twice or thrice a
year when, accompanied by a nurse, he was made to
sojourn at the country residence of his paternal grand-
mother. Here, as occasion required, he was trounced
in hearty style by the old lady, who both loved and
controlled him, and who, it so happened, had him under
her roof at the time when this narrative begins.
The only other member of this charming house-
hold was Kate Severn, the daughter and sole issue of
Severn's first marriage. A handsome, shapely and
healthy girl of twenty, she possessed spirit with good
sense and a quick temper with ready repentance. She
excelled in nearly every out-door sport, in tennis, in
riding, driving, swimming, and bowling. She could
thrum a lively air on the banjo or be sentimental a
few moments on the plaintive guitar, for her voice
being by no means poor she could stir the dullest com-
pany with a ditty to please. The servants, who
adored her nearly one and all, vowed she was more
than a match for the stepmother, that she had her
grandmother's spirit, and that she was the only person
in the house that dared to cross her father. Indeed,
the resoluteness of her temper was such that every-
body predicted it would be a long siege between the


THIEVES
5
two if ever they should come to a vital dispute. This
last, fortunately, had never occurred, because the
young woman loved the fat old father, had been much
indulged by him, and had never been compelled to
view the whole of the selfish heart within.
Already she had rejected lovers both at home and
abroad by the score, declaring that what she wanted
was a man, while everything she had met in trousers
thus far she could twirl around her fingers. In this
there was some truth, her mind being of an exceed-
ingly quick, distinguishing cast, and at school, though
she often forgot too soon, the readiness of her appre-
hension and her curiosity in unusual studies gave her
a place above the rest of her schoolmates.
She knew not the value of a dollar, was always in
arrears to her allowance, and gave away rich gowns
scarce fitted to her figure. But the nature of the girl
was too wholesome to be early ruined. Continuous
gayety had not impaired her capacity to be serious,
nor had the sweetness of her temper been spoilt by in-
dulgence.
Between the stepmother and Kate there arose im-
mediately upon the former's coming into the house
irreconcilable differences. At times nothing could
exceed the sweetness of these two ladies toward each
other, in so much that the seeming pleasure of each
in acknowledging the greeting or commonplaces of
the other would melt ice itself, but so fearful were
they both of putting themselves in this respect to un-
due strain that they commonly avoided being together
more than a few moments at a time. Among the
servants this very diverting situation was much dis-
cussed. The butler, the head chauffeur, and the step-


6
THIEVES
mother's French maid took the side of Mrs. Severn,
while all the rest, a numerous troop and garrulous,
took the side of the daughter. Miss Kate, these
agreed, was in the way of her stepmother's boy and
had been given good cause to feel so.


CHAPTER II
T the present juncture a new cause of scullery
** gossip transpired. Across a narrow lane from
the country-house, where the family was now staying,
lived in a little dwelling a certain John Richardson,
who, at the age of twenty-eight, had risen into no
small note with eloquence and learning. These ac-
complishments, however, he was employing in a cause
by no means favored in the great house of Severn.
All his best efforts were on the side of the working-
men, whom he assiduously encouraged in honest or-
ganization, in schemes for the regulation of corpora-
tions, and in recommending law-makers to provide by
statute just compensation for bodies chopped up or
hands burnt off or eyes put out. His own life being
upright, nobody could find anything wrong with him
except his continuously urging these terrible reforms,
at the very mention of which old Severn, his haughty
dame and all their friends would turn up their noses in
disgust.
To add to her father's indignation with this neigh-
bor was the latter's possessing in fee simple a
little plot between Severn's handsome acres and the
best view of the river. Old Severn had through
agents made offers to purchase this property and was
deeply hurt to find that Richardson preferred to keep
it, upon which the old millionaire's resolution to get
it increased like that described in Horace two thou-

7


8
THIEVES
sand years ago. He would even say, good Severn,
that he dared not trust himself to express his opinion
of a man with a disposition like that.
It naturally fell out that Kate would hear Richardson
abused more often than was just, and as the stepmother
was both the most frequent and most acid in this con-
tumely, she herself became inclined to take his side,
a tendency all the easier to yield to because, as she
would see him over the hedge or walking down the
lane from the electric car to his gate, he was surely
a handsome young man, with a faint expression of
melancholy likely to attract her own impetuous and
sanguine nature.
Widely different were the two homes of Wallowell
Severn and of John Richardson. Only a narrow lane
divided them in space, but immeasurably were they
separated in luxury. The Severn estate, built upon
the demolition of a dozen cottages, upon the plowing
of many little gardens and the uprooting of pretty
orchards, expanded itself in a hundred acres of velvet
lawn. Shady pools and tiny groves, the invention of
art, had pleasingly counterfeited the simple charms of
nature, nor was there wanting such disorder of shrub
and bush and tree as conceals in an artificial landscape
the genius of design.
As for the mansion, well might it rival the magnifi-
cence of a palace. Though intended only for summer
occupation, it spread itself over an acre or more in
irregular walls and conflicting sky-lines, which viewed
as a whole united grace with strength, while old trees,
the survivors of the early denizens of the ground,
threw around its windows and verandas delightful
shade and softened outline. Few could look at the


THIEVES
9
place without some degree of envy, and only a phi-
losopher could disdain in it the impression of luxury
and the vanity of power.
Across the lane a modest cottage, kept decently
painted, peeped through its loving trees at this splen-
did neighbor. A modest acre furnished some vegeta-
bles, a few beds of roses, and a bit of green. It was
not fine but pretty, and quite enough for a young law-
yer of twenty-eight and a mother much past her prime
when neither had rich tastes or experience of finery.
Between the two places and at the end of the lane
that divided them was a little summer pagoda that
long ago had been the property of a resident whose
plot had been purchased by Severn, and back of this
wound a path to the river, so that if one desired to
take a shady and secluded stroll to the stream from
the Severn grounds, it was pleasant to step through
the hedge-gate beside the pagoda and walk down
the gentle hill, outside the enclosure. It was in this
short excursion that Kate walking alone one summer
evening happened to come upon John for the first time
while he was reading on a bench.
Love at first sight may not be common, but all will
bear witness that it does occur. She stopped, she
gazed, she turned her eyes away, moved on, then
stopped and looked again. He, for his part, was in-
clined to speak, but, hesitating, resumed the page and
she immediately went on to the river. Having
pitched a pebble or two into the current, the girl was
soon ascending the slope with new emotions in her
heart, though she could neither recognize nor avow,
nor even perhaps be conscious of, its gentle perturba-
tion. She passed him again in a moment, bowed


IO
THIEVES
slightly as a neighbor might, only to receive that sort
of smile which, softening the coolness of a very re-
spectful bow, completed in her soul the picture of
manly dignity.
That night she could recall no scene but this. How
could she hope to meet him? They could be neigh-
bors, they might even be acquaintances, but lovers
never. The distance between their fortunes was not
more vast than the distance between their friends.
These reflections might discourage hope but they
could not extinguish desire. Would he be there
again? Most probably, from the same leisure or avo-
cation that had brought him there before. Next night
before twilight she saunters again to the path, again
discovers the reader, smiles, bows and passes him by.
Returning she would speak, yes, say good evening.
He doubtless thought her rich, he must not find her
proud. She must be fair, be neighborly. "Good
evening, Mr. Richardson." "A pleasant one to you,
Miss Severn."
A gentleman's voice that, a gentleman's manner!
What is it that they complain of in him? Why does
her stepmother make gibes at his arguments. Next
day she saw his picture in the papers, and was de-
lighted to read half a column of a speech.
By the third night the two exchanged commonplaces
on the sky, the sunset and what not, yet he had not
the boldness to invite her or she the courage to stop
or take a seat. Moreover, company at home would
occasionally prevent her walking by herself, and the
most she could do was to lead her friends by the spot,
both to induce pleasant comment on what she was
sure they would pronounce a handsome face and to


THIEVES
II
protect herself in his eyes as a maiden not seeking
this path to fall in with him alone. Thus the affair
drifted during several weeks, she keeping it to her-
self entirely as she hoped, and, it so happened, actu-
ally thus far keeping it from her father.
What troubled her most was that from nothing in
his manner was it possible to discern whether he
thought of her a moment after her back was turned.
Youth, however, can hope against coldness, as well as
against opposition. Sweet images arose in her breast
and pleasant thoughts would not be expelled as she sat
dreaming at her window or strolled on the lawn to
hear the happy birds warbling across the meadow the
vernal note of love.


CHAPTER III
UIS Miss Kate's coffee ready, Mrs. McFadden?"
* "It'll be ready in a minute, Nora, an' how's
the swate girl this mornin' V
"Feelin' fine, God be praised, an' no thanks to that
stepmother of hers, that thinks, I suppose, that none
of us can see what's goin' on betwixt her and her man
Shortridge."
"Sure, an' I'd like to have a minute's chance to
spake me mind to that same Mrs. Severn wid her nose
in the air, a foolin' in that disgraceful way wid her
husband's lawyer, an' her bringin' in this Frinch chif
to cook the dinners, an' me to git up the breakfast
while that frog-eater snores upstairs till noon, me that
never saw a plate come back to me kitchen full in a
meal of me own cooking."
"Ye have me sympathy, Mrs. McFadden, and, wid
Madam's Frinch maid an' an impident butler like this
Wattles to spy on us, I'd not be for stayin' a day
longer in the house mesilf if it wasn't for the darlin'
little lady that's me own, an' me eight years in her
service. No Frinch maid for her I"
"Sure, she knows white people like us, that wan, an'
ye can't help lovin' her, Nora, even whin she's in wan
of her little timpers."
"Och, she's over thim in a minit, an' as swate as
honey. I'm not fit, Mrs. McFadden, to stand in her
1a


THIEVES
13
prisince. Would ye look at the beautiful bilt she's
jist been givin' me?"
"Troth, it's a jewel, ye lucky girl! It's none o' me
business, but I can't help askin' if the swate creature's
still gitting' a glimpse of—"
"Not above yer brith, Mrs. McFadden. She
doesn't drame yit that I've so much as seen a thing
mesilf."
"Wull, the Divil'll be to pay if old Severn hears
of it, wid his insolence toward the workin' people,
an' young Richardson a spakin' his head off for the
poor, an' him as cross as a bear, wid that rheumatism
kapin' him indoors all the time lately. It's pinchin'
him pretty hard, they till me."
"Yis, but it's the most beautiful thing in the world
to hear her invintin' excuses, Mrs. McFadden, to be
strollin' in a certain direction an' lavin' me behind,
an' her not at home to company so much now-a-days,
a dramin', the dear thing, an' a gittin' a wee bit swater
ivery day. And I caught her sewin' something last
night wid her own hands, the first time in her life."
"I know how it is mesilf, Nora. It's an old woman
I'll be before I forgit the trimblin' that the first sight
of Tim McFadden sint through me. Here's your
coffee, child, an' here's that Wattles."
Upon this Nora passed out, greeting with a cool
nod the stout butler who, entering with serenity of
manner, said:
"Good morning, Mrs. McFadden. Mr. Severn's
wantin' 'is coffee."
"Sure, an' I'd a thought you'd be sindin' the sicond
butler instid o' takin' the throuble to come down for
it yoursilf."


14
THIEVES
"Ho, it's not necessary, Mrs. McFadden, to be
hironical, neither you nor this himpertinent Nora 'ere,
hespecially when Hi feel perfectly kindly to you, Hi'm
sure."
"Oh, indade, Mr. Wattles!"
"His the coffee ready, Mrs. McFadden?"
"It'll be riddy whin it's riddy, Mr. Wattles. Now,
suppose you run upstairs to till that on me too!"
"His the coffee ready, Mrs. McFadden?"
"Oh, you'll not descind to arguin' wid sarvints
like yoursilf, I suppose, but only wid the dukes that
you'd have us belave you slept an' ate wid in the ould
country."
"You're not disturbin' me in the least, Mrs. Mc-
Fadden. His the coffee ready?"
"In a minit, I till ye I"
"Hi've tried, Hi may add, to adapt me manners to
the changed conditions 'ere. One's got to be demo-
cratic with the serving class in a democratic country,
Hi suppose—"
"Wull, here's yer coffee! I'd as soon be listenin'
to an eight day clock!"
"Thank you, Mrs. McFadden, very much, Hi'm
sure."
As the butler went out through one door, a chauffeur
came in through another. "Here," he cried, passing
on to the servants' hall next to the kitchen, "hurry
up my breakfast. I've been up this hour without my
coffee. A damned poor house this, anyway. Only
four chauffeurs for eight machines!"
"Biddy'll wait on ye in a minit," answered Mrs.
McFadden, pointing to a red-headed scullery maid.
"Don't be in such a sweat about it."


THIEVES
15
"All right, sweetheart, but don't fall asleep over it.
God! up till two last night. Ham and eggs, Biddy,
and the regular stack of cakes."
Here he disappeared into the other room, where he
was speedily joined by another young gentleman in
the same service.
"Mrs. Severn's just telephoned down that you
needn't run over after Shortridge this morning.
Coming over in Locksport's car, she says."
"Huh! So he gets here some way, I suppose she's
happy. Say, old man, Severn still laid up? Rheuma-
tism?"
"Guess so. She was out till two or three last night
again, I suppose?"
"Yep! Regular service now, this Shortridge.
Brought 'em here about one."
"He gets out and comes in, as usual?"
"Sure! Just to see she gets upstairs safe, I sup-
pose. Took him an hour to see her up! Then I
takes him home toward daylight. Say, Biddy, are
you never going to bring that ham and eggs?"
"Seems to me," said the other chauffeur, "as if
Shortridge was skatin' on pretty thin ice there, him
the attorney at thirty thousand or thereabouts a year.
God! If the old man gets his ear to the ground—"
"Well, Shortridge's smooth enough, and so's the
Madame! She can fill the old man's face up, I guess,
with taffy, so's he'll not see. Understand you near
run over this Richardson next door."
"Yes, the damned dynamiter, him and his brother;
nearly trimmed their toes off. Wouldn't step out of
my way—tried to force me to curve off—not on your
life, with me at the wheel! Another coffee, Biddy!


16
THIEVES
The way this house is run'd make a man sick! Can't
you see I'm callin' for more coffee there?"
"Another big strike on, they tell me. Mebbe spread
to Severn's."
"Sure! Say, ain't that fellow Locksport a bird!
Nearly a thousand strike-breakers in the Western
Steel, locked up, by God, can't get out! Want to
join the strikers, and can't get a whisper. Tryin' the
courts! Hell, the courts ain't noticin' them fellows!
I've got no use, myself, for strikers."
"Nor me. Locksport's all right. Gave me a fiver
the other day."
"How about Shortridge?"
"Oh, he dropped me one last night, too. Of course,
I don't see nothin'."
"Wouldn't be sorry, mebbe, if you just ran over
that Richardson or his brother sometime?"
"Ha, ha! no, mebbe not. But, honest now, I'm
that kind of a driver, Billy, I'm safest at high speed,
say fifty to sixty an hour. People think it's reckless
to run that way, but—"
"Oh, they don't know what they're talking about,
the average citizen. I'm like you. I'm a nervous
driver, nervous till I shove it up to about fifty-five
an hour, or thereabouts, which kind of cools a fellow's
wits. People ought to understand that."
"Mr. Severn's telephoned down he'll want the
French limousine at about one," said Biddy.
"All right, Little Ireland. Guess the old man's
rheumatism'll let him crawl to the car to-day."


CHAPTER IV
"'PRE'S your coffee, Mr. Severn. Hi 'ope the
dinner last night was served hentirely to your
satisfaction."
"Very well done, Wattles."
"You'll excuse my over'earing what you say some-
times, Mr. Severn, at dinner, but Hi thought the re-
marks you made last night, to the gentlemen from Lon-
don, respecting the superiority of life hin the hold
country, were very 'appily expressed, sir."
"My friends sometimes find me happy on those oc-
casions, Wattles."
"Hand if you'll hexcuse my hadding, sir, your
manner was very like the Duke of Portland's after
dinner, sir, has I 'ad the honor to serve him, sir; and
what will you be 'eving for breakfast, sir?"
"Let me see! A bit of—oh, of some small thing
at ten—the usual breakfast sausage with an egg or
two."
"Very good, sir. And at one o'clock you'll 'ev?"
"Might bring me a few little duck livers with cheese
on toast, with a light Moselle, and after that, my
limousine for a drive—the French car."
"Certainly, sir. Hi hunderstand you've no use for
the American cars."
"No. And we'll have luncheon on the upper ve-
randa here."
"Very good, sir." With that, Wattles went out,
17


18
THIEVES
and at about the same time, there came in Mrs. Sev-
ern, who, bestowing upon her fat spouse a tepid ca-
ress, inquired whether the morning found him better.
"Sleep well?"
"No."
"Pain?"
"Of course."
"Queer, its lasting so long."
"I think my gout is a little better," he replied, "but
I don't know what's wrong with my stomach. I
always take fairly good care of my health. I can't
understand what's the matter with Smith, eter-
nally dosing me with worthless pills. No one takes
better care of his stomach than I do."
"I don't understand it, myself," she replied. "It's
a fair Sunday morning, what are you going to do—■
drive?"
"Go out about two, I think," he answered. "This
morning, I have to meet Locksport and Shortridge
about that infernal strike, and the general danger df
this damnable situation."
"I thought you said there was no danger of the
strike spreading to our mills, and that it wouldn't con-
cern you any more."
"Now, you know well enough, that when there's a
strike in one part of town, there's always danger to the
other."
"I fully appreciate it. Fortunately, you're under
the very best advice. Mr. Shortridge seems always
so clear."
"Oh, I guess my own advice is good enough; and
Locksport, though he's gotten us into this trouble, is
a smart fellow. I don't altogether blame him for


THIEVES
19
this row, for the way we people who've made this
country a success all these years, are treated by the
dirty class we've been supporting, is scandalous and
villainous. Kate up?"
"I suppose so. Gets up when she pleases."
"Oh, stop this lofty style! Can't you both behave
yourselves? I've trouble enough on my hands now,
with all these men."
"You know, Wallowell, that I've always done my
duty by that girl. If we're not going to get along
together, it's her own fault. You know that I'm a
young woman, not very much older than she is, and
that she takes it hard to have a stepmother in the
house; but, just the same, bear me witness, that I have
at all times held my temper with that girl."
"Well, what's she done lately to annoy you?"
"I have no complaint to make, Wallowell, about your
daughter. The position of a stepmother is not pleas-
ant, so I have nothing to say."
"Then let's drop it."
"I have, haven't I? It's you that's keeping it up."
"It's you!"
"I never say a word about her except for the peace
of the house."
"Oh, you give her a dig pretty often—day before
yesterday, for instance."
"Do you blame me? Praising that fellow Rich-
ardson to your face, when you were irritated because
he wouldn't sell out!"
"I believe she did say something favorable about
him, but she wasn't praising him. She's got no rea-
son to praise him—never even set eyes on him, I sup-
pose. You're making it too strong. I haven't much


20
THIEVES
patience with anybody defending such a whelp, but
what's the use of making a mountain out of a mole-
hill?"
"Do you mean to say you'd let her defend such a
man?"
"No! I'd put her out of the house sooner. I
simply said she only made some comment in his favor.
Here she is now!"
"Good morning, father," said Kate as she entered;
"here's a kiss for you. Let me move your chair a
bit. More comfortable? Good morning, Mrs. Sev-
ern."
"Now here," said old Severn, "what kind of talk
is this, calling her 'Mrs. Severn'? Why don't you
call her Miriam, or something less stiff?"
"Well, father, you invent a good name and I'll use
it. The coffee just right? Another lump of sugar?"
"Now, Kate, I'm not trifling."
"All right, father. Let me fix these pillows.
Miriam's propped you up too comfortably." The
stepmother colored at this pretty shaft, having of
course shown her husband no attention at all.
"I mean what I say," repeated Severn.
"Why, she hasn't even said 'Good morning" to
me," said Kate.
"For that matter," replied the lady, "I shan't be
at the pains to say 'Good morning' to her at all, unless
she begins to show me some respect. On your
father's account, I'll keep my temper with you as much
as I can."
"Thank you!"
"There's no thanks necessary, I think."
"Well, we needn't say more," Kate answered, "and


THIEVES
21
for father's sake, we'll have no scene here this morn-
ing.
"Oh, stop this!" cried Severn.
"Thank you for sparing my feelings, Miss Kate,"
replied the stepmother, "and now, if you'll excuse me,
Wallowell, I'll attend to matters in the house," saying
which, she went out of the room with the greatest
dignity and the air of a person considerably injured.
"Why can't you two get on better together?" asked
Severn.
"I get on with her. I don't see why she doesn't
get along better with me."
"I don't know who's to blame," replied Severn,
"but one thing is clear, I'm going to have peace in my
house. I want no sour looks from you people.
What's wrong with her? She's a good woman, isn't
she?"
"She is, so far as I know, sir."
"Now, what do you mean by saying, 'so far as you
know'? That's no way to talk."
"Well, then, she is a good woman."
"Now, don't answer me that way, as if you had
some doubts about it. You know she's a good
woman, don't you?"
"She's not good to me."
"That's not the kind of good or bad you were in-
timating, and as for her being good to you in the other
sense, I think she's as good a stepmother as any other.
It's not a very pleasant situation to be in."
"Now, I think, father, among other things, that
she is always hinting to you disagreeable things about
me."
"She is not."


22
THIEVES
"All right, but I always think she is. And I'll
venture to say that she's been talking about me this
very morning."
"She has not. She made nothing more than a pass-
ing comment upon your having defended this fellow,
Richardson. And I wish to say, that as far as that
is concerned, I put you in the right light there, en-
tirely."
"So she started that subject, did she?"
"She started no subject at all, I tell you."
"Well, have you any complaints to make about me,
father, and the way I act in this house?"
"If I had, I think you'd have heard from me long
ago, wouldn't you? You needn't ask me such a ques-
tion as that. As for this fellow Richardson, so you
don't misunderstand me, I'd have nobody under my
roof that would dare to defend him. He's an agi-
tator, an anarchist, stirring up trouble with my men,
he and his brother, that infernal Tom Richardson,
and he persists in refusing to sell his house when he
knows I want it and have offered to pay him all it's
worth."
"Now, it's none of my business, of course, but,
since you mention that, all I ever said, was that it's his
own, the house, and it is, isn't it?"
"His own, yes! Nobody said it wasn't."
"Well, then?"
"Well, because it's his own, it doesn't follow but
I've got a moral right to it. I'm willing to pay what's
right. Answer me that, if you can."
"All right, father, just as you say!"
"A poor man's got no moral right to keep a nasty
little place right in his neighbor's corner, when the


THIEVES
23
other man has a beautiful place, and can pay ade-
quately, and then improve the whole thing so it's an
ornament to a community. He knows that—just try-
ing to force another bid out of me. He knows that
I want his place, and knows very well that I'm afraid
to press the matter, and to argue with him because of
his position, and the complications arising from his
being Assistant Commonwealth Attorney, and from
his brother being a leader in the labor unions. He
knows well enough that I can't argue with him. And
you know that well enough, too, yourself."
Kate looked very uncomfortable, gazing out of the
window over a pleasant piece of lawn towards the
little house and the river, the view of which was un-
doubtedly cut off by Richardson's dwelling.
"Now, father, dear," she said in a gentler tone, "I
don't wish to be misunderstood. As you know, I'm
not always a good girl, but I'm not going to argue
with you about all this. Here come Mr. Locksport
and Mr. Shortridge up the walk. I suppose they
want to see you on business."
"Yes."
"They've just left the auto; I'll go downstairs."
A maid servant entered, and gathered up the dishes,
while Wattles appeared, and inquired whether Mr.
Locksport and Mr. Shortridge should walk upstairs,
or whether Mr. Severn would be pleased to go down
to meet them; upon which, the master of the house
commanded that they be shown up at once.


CHAPTER V
HE city of Pittsburgh, situated at the junction
1 of two navigable streams that form a longer
third, is by nature the seat of manufacture, since it
stands at the head of the Eastern branch of the Mis-
sissippi and rests on beds of coal. Here Vulcan first
fixed his home in the Western world, and, long before
the favoring hand of government had been extended,
appeared the furnace and the forge.
What Nature herself supplied it was easy by policy
to assist. When government, to fill its treasury during
war, imposed on steel and iron the duties of import,
there ensued in this valley a sudden expansion of
these growing arts. That the duties which rendered
the imported article dear were to be only temporary,
that the country would return to the policy of buying
these products where it could buy them cheapest was
then acknowledged, but as the terrible length of the
Rebellion became apparent, the necessity for the tax
was, it grew clear, not speedily to expire. Under
the shield of the customs house the mills of Pitts-
burgh waxed immense. By 1880 they had become a
commercial power.
Loud now became the clamor of these manufac-
turers for a permanent barrier in their favor against
the product of Europe. What was originally a tax
to aid the government, should become a kind of tax
to assist the mills and be called Protection, to support


THIEVES
25
which argument it was surely plausible to point to the
towns that were growing up around the expanding
furnaces. The country rather early accepted this ar-
gument, because it was always urged as protection
not so much to the capitalist as to the workmen. The
manufacturer to-day haggled their wages down, to-
morrow bawled for subsidy to keep the wages up, the
next day required his laborers to vote for the subsidy
lest they get no wages at all.
Wider and wider the area of this industry ex-
panding, all Western Pennsylvania and all Ohio be-
came its smoky scene, while the inexhaustible North
poured from new beds such quantities of ore, of ore
cheaply mined and cheaply hauled, that the profits of
the early era were humbled by increasing output and
by diminished cost.
By the year 1900 colossal indeed was the spectacle.
But what of the laborers? These in early times had
been brought from England, which alone afforded then
a skilled supply. Invention later making numbers
more important than experienced fingers, new foun-
tains of legs and bodies were sought in the heart of
Europe, from which quarter a tribe more easily sat-
isfied than the Anglo-Saxon was lured at a smaller
wage. The American and the British American
workmen were not fair, it was said, a factious swarm
insistent on more compensation because their swelling
masters were sucking more and more from govern-
ment.
Palace now rose beside palace while hovel was piled
on hovel. Scarce one among the lords of trade came
forth to better the condition of his men, to prove
that what was loudly claimed before election or on


26
THIEVES
the floor of Congress was true and that the tariff on
steel was benefiting other than the owner of the mills.
When the men consulted together they were secretly
blacklisted. Their unions, indispensable to progress,
were easily broken up by treacherous emissaries fo-
menting strife, a fertile seed in ignorance. As for
savings, these were impossible. The cost of living
inevitably increasing was offset by no proportionate
gain in the general wage, and in a vast number of
classes wages actually declined.
Harder and harder was the load now pressed. Men
toiled ten and twelve hours a day and seven days
a week in the glare of furnaces, in the crash of terri-
ble machines, and between red-hot ingots of flying
steel. Legs were torn off, eyes put out, bodies burned
asunder, but not one pension was proposed, not one
merciful law enacted, not one favorable ordinance
enforced. A pittance was flung, given and accepted
to save a lawsuit, a hundred or two for your arms,
a trifle more for your eyes or legs.
The small employer may be more liberal than the
large, for he that can save ten cents a day on each
of ten thousand of men has a fortune to gain by
keeping a bite from every mouth. The greed of the
great employers became immeasurable. The lower
the class that they imported, the more cause in their
eyes to despise them, the more cause to be incensed
at their murmurings.
At length the magnificence of the lords of this re-
gion grew fabulous. Vast fortunes rose every year
in such frequency, that to count their number was
as difficult as to appreciate the several treasures. One
man little known outside Pittsburgh was discovered


THIEVES
27
on his death to have possessed one hundred millions,
but the world was busy gaping at the myriad-headed
revenues of Frick and Carnegie. Men were accounted
of small means that had only a million and merely
comfortable with ten. The lust for riches grew
rabid. For gold everything was sacrificed, because in
money only was honor to be gained. To get the favor
of one of these new princes was itself a prize, nor
could any one forget the career of him, who, having
met Carnegie to sell him a rug, had struck his fancy
and won twenty millions. This fellow, like a thou-
sand others, had so much he knew not what to do
with it, tore down a mansion to build a palace, em-
ployed a special train to frolic across the continent.
That the humble had now any rights nobody in
higher circles dreamed, and among these was Lock-
sport. This creature, having quarrelled with his work-
men, imported substitutes from New England or Eu-
rope, whom having gotten into his buildings under
false accounts of the controversy, he brazenly re-
fused through armed guards to let out. Now and
then by habeas corpus a few would be extracted by
the men without, but this leakage was as readily re-
filled, while the newspapers kept the town divided
in biased accusations against the original strikers.
Severn, though a stockholder in Locksport's cor-
poration, was not an officer. He was a mere inheritor
of riches, consulted only because he possessed them.
Poorly trained in the business which he had received
from his father at the age of fifty, he had all the
unscrupulousness and none of the vigor of his ances-
tors.


CHAPTER VI

H, how do you do this morning?" cried Mr.
Locksport. He was a forceful looking man
with a severe countenance that came of over-devotion
to business and a selfish determination to accomplish
his own ends without regard to the rights of others.
Shortridge was of a different type, somewhat
younger and, judging by his features, of very great
ability. Formerly a lawyer in the employment of the
Severns, he had risen steadily to a position of gen-
eral adviser at the age of forty, for, having success-
fully bribed several legislatures and gotten control
of as many city councils, he was a man to be trusted.
Financiers would say there was no telling how high
a conservative fellow like this might rise. Through
him vicious mayors and corrupt aldermen, retained
in office against all popular clamor, were found at
all times on the side of business safety and were regu-
larly defended in several daily prints. Being a bach-
elor he had all his time at the disposal of his employ-
ers. Never surprised at anything, he was never in
an ill-humor, nor could even the lie be given him,
though in all the ways Ben Jonson tells about, the
direct, the bias, or what you will, in such a fashion as
to disturb his face.
"How do you feel this morning?" he added to the
inquiry of Locksport.


THIEVES
29
"Only tolerable."
"Same old pains?" asked Locksport
.
"Yes, and miserable appetite—have to force the
food down me."
"Too bad! Too bad!"
"If you will permit me, Mr. Severn," said Lock-
sport, "we have a lot of work to do here."
"What's this—fresh complications?"
"Oh, no, it's not like that. I left my strikebreakers
well penned up and the devil a one of them's going
to get out of there without my—"
"Still in there, are they?"
"Yes, sir, just as solid as sardines, packed right
in," said Shortridge.
"Packed in in good, old-fashioned style," added
Locksport. "But there's a new move now. This fel-
low Richardson in the Commonwealth Attorney's of-
fice, is going to be troublesome. I don't know who
the devil ever got him into that place. In fact, I never
knew he was in there till yesterday afternoon."
"Well, what can he do in that office? Haven't we
got his superior officer in good style? Isn't Hagan
all right?" asked Severn.
"Hagan's all right," interposed Shortridge, "but the
trouble's just here; Mr. Locksport's latest informa-
tion is that, now that Richardson's in there, they're
going to try to have Locksport, here, arrested."
"Arrest Locksport?"
"Yes, me—me, for false imprisonment," laughed
Locksport, though not altogether at ease.
"But Hagan'll stop it!" cried Severn.
"Yes, but suppose Richardson makes an open
row in the office there. It's got to get into some of


30 THIEVES
the papers, puts a still greater pressure on Hagan.
Maybe he'll be forced."
"He certainly might," added Locksport. "As I was
saying, I didn't hear about this fellow being in that
place until yesterday afternoon. I hunted up Hagan
immediately. Sent one of my lawyers over there
to see what the devil it meant. Hagan admits, as I
understand it, that it was a bad move, but says he
had to do it. Richardson's been growing in no-
toriety, has a pretty big following, so Hagan just
had to take him in. Says, though, he can handle the
situation. He thinks this fellow Richardson has con-
siderable political ambition. We can handle him
smoothly enough. But he said there was no way of
avoiding it. The fellow, having influence, had to be
in there if he wished to be."
"Well," said Severn, "I never knew one of these
rascals but was agitating for some purpose."
"You see it's this way, Mr. Severn," said Locksport,
"this fellow can be handled—"
"Oh, damn handling him!" exclaimed Severn.
"Ignore him. I'm tired. Let him go."
"No," replied Locksport, "you can't do that ex-
actly. We have to be a little politic sometimes."
"Why?" inquired Severn. "Haven't we got the
mayor, haven't we got the police, haven't we got
Hagan? What can a mere deputy do?"
"Supposing, Mr. Severn," answered Shortridge,
"there's a row gotten up in the Commonwealth At-
torney's office. While everything that Mr. Lock-
sport's doing is exactly right in my opinion and will
be sustained by the courts, yet we don't care to have
any unnecessary publicity. Some of the papers are


THIEVES
31
growing restless now. We've got nearly all of them
in hand, but they're growing restless again."
"Want more money, I suppose!"
"No, I don't think so, Mr. Severn," replied Short-
ridge. "They're merely not in a position to suppress
everything."
"I've always found it best to fight, stand pat."
"There's great force in what you say—always is,
Mr. Severn," resumed Shortridge. "Yet this time
you can't afford to ignore the situation."
"Exactly," remarked Locksport.
"My idea, then, Mr. Severn, is just this," answered
Shortridge. "Take advantage of the situation this
fellow's in about this little land of his. Richard-
son's been obstinately unreasonable about it. No
doubt in the world about that, Mr. Severn. Holding
you up. Wants more than the place is worth. Well,
suppose we let him have more than it's worth, twice
over. Make him a good, big offer, and then let the
thing drag along while Mr. Locksport's tiring out the
men. Depend upon it, Richardson'll take no fool steps
against us with such an offer pending for a month
or two while we're examining the title and the like,
and that will tide us over."
"Exactly," remarked Locksport.
"And I'm to be bled again, am I? What do I
want of my lawyer? Don't I want a lawyer to fight?"
"Yes, Mr. Severn," interposed Locksport, "but
there may be a time when it is the wrong time to
fight."
"Why didn't some of you tell me, the other day,
that the fellow had a mortgage on the place, a mort-
gage of three or four thousand dollars? Push that!"


32
THIEVES
"Yes," replied Locksport, "and I've got it prac-
tically in my pocket to-day."
"Well, then, foreclose!"
"Oh, he might raise the money, make a great spec-
tacle about oppression. That would make fine read-
ing) you see!"
"Couldn't you assert your legal rights?"
"Undoubtedly, Mr. Severn," said Shortridge, "but
as the amount's small, I'm rather inclined to Mr.
Locksport's opinion. He might raise the money and
make a great hullabaloo."
"His place isn't worth more than the mortgage,"
answered Severn.
"Oh," exclaimed Locksport, "it's worth about five
or six thousand dollars, possibly. But suppose we
talk fifteen to twenty thousand dollars to him.
That'll fetch him, fetch him down quick."
Severn at last was silent and, walking to the win-
dow, looked out across the lawn towards Richardson's
place.
"He's taking advantage of me. What right has
he? Putting his own valuation on the place! We
know what the place is worth."
The other two, however, advised easy methods, until
at last it was arranged between them that Shortridge
should that afternoon endeavor to call upon Richard-
son and discuss the matter.
"Yes," replied Locksport, "and the quicker it's done,
the better. Labor's terribly unreasonable here. My
men are asking another cent an hour to-morrow."
"Another cent!" exclaimed Severn. "Another
cent besides the one they asked first?"
"Yes," replied Locksport, "the beasts want two


THIEVES 33
cents an hour more. Think of it, two cents an hour!
They seem to think we're entitled to no profits at all. j.
Only the other day I had to refuse my wife a new auto-
mobile, she a sick woman, too. I just had to refuse
it. Only have three, but I told her I couldn't afford
it. Mr. Severn, I'm ashamed to admit, I couldn't
afford it!"
"Well," remarked Severn, "I don't know what this
country's coming to, anyway. All we people want
is to be let alone."
Shortridge and Locksport now descended the stairs,
the latter, a voluble talker, descanting on his success-
ful vigor, until, having reached the lower veranda, they
fell in with Mrs. Severn.
"Why, Mrs. Severn, glad to see you!"
"Business all the time—business on Sunday morn-
ing," said she, who had apparently awaited them.
She extended her hand to Locksport, but her eyes
were on the other man all the while.
"Yes, every minute," replied Locksport. "I've got
my hands full with this factory full of paid prisoners."
"'Paid prisoners' is good," said Shortridge with a
laugh.
"You dreadful men!"
"Well, I've got to go. Where's my car? Oh,
there! Well, good luck to you, Shortridge. I'll drop
in here to-night on my way home."
"Oh, do!" said Mrs. Severn. "Geor—Mr. Short-
ridge can stay for dinner. I know Mr. Severn will be
impatient for another talk—so dreadfully impatient,
tied up here, you know. Good morning. Don't
drive so recklessly—Au revoir!"
"He certainly has got his hands full," remarked


34
THIEVES
Shortridge, as Locksport disappeared in his car,
"locking up six hundred strike-breakers who want
to quit. Not a soul can get in or out. Got to work,
whether or no."
"Well, he pays them, doesn't he?"
"Yes."
"What more do they want? They'd have to be
working somewhere else."
"Yes, but—however, that's another matter. I've
got to stroll over there and have a chat, if he's at home,
with that fellow Richardson, your swell neighbor."
"What do you want with him? It'll only make
him more self-important than he is, to find a gentle-
man like you going out of your way to see him."
"That may be, but business is business."
"Why don't you send for him—make him come to
see you?"
"Want to meet him yourself?" asked Shortridge,
with a laugh.
"Horrors, no!"
"Then I'll just light this cigar and saunter across
the grounds to the enemy's camp. He's sure to be at
home Sunday morning."
"Mayn't I go with you to the hedge?" she asked.
"Delighted!"
"Didn't Wallowell ask you to dinner, George?"
"No. Never thought of it, I suppose."
"Neither did you, I'm afraid," said she reproach-
fully.
"I certainly did, but it's for him to give the invita-
tion."
"Or for me. It's my house, too. Now, don't look
uneasy that way, George. Wallowell doesn't suspect


THIEVES
35
a thing. He knows perfectly well his dignity's en-
tirely safe with a lady like me. That detestable
maid of Kate's will probably notice us, as usual, but
come on, we'll walk over. Isn't it lovely?"
"That infernal Nora! You know, I really believe
she did see us night before last—that time!" he ex-
claimed.
"Not a bit! of course she was near, but it was too
dark. Why in the world are you always worrying
about some false alarm or other?"
"Well, let it go. She looked innocent enough next
day."
"I hate her! She knows nothing, though, and, of
course, there's nothing to know."
"Why don't you make Kate get rid of her?" asked
he.
"Leave that to me. It takes time, her father's so
easily talked over by her."
"You're looking charming in that gown. New
one?"
"Second time."
"Paris?"
"Vienna—but listen!"
By this time they were approaching the hedge near
the pagoda.
"Somebody's there. That's Kate's voice," said Mrs.
Severn.


THIEVES
37
him a decent number of clients, and was able to
buy his little house with its acre of ground before
the fashionable world, coveting so fair a scene, had
dedicated this slope to palace and lawn. The brother
remained in town, where he had become a leader in
the labor unions; John and the mother, happy in their
hard-earned comforts, were able now, at his age of
twenty-eight, to enjoy the assistance of a maid-of-
all-work together with that of an old laborer, who,
having dropped a leg somewhere in the mills and got-
ten the services of John against the company with
some success, was pleased to work for a trifle in the
garden.
Poverty had not soured, or unremitting labor nar-
rowed, the intellect of John Richardson. On the con-
trary, he felt himself lucky enough to have fared so
well; and all the evil that care had wrought was that,
while h^ had been gay before, he was serious now,
and that the sanguine glow of life had saddened a
little too soon. He laughed seldom, but he had a
sweet, half-humorous smile which some deemed mel-
ancholy and others thoughtful.
From what he had seen, from what he had suffered,
this man's studies inclined him irresistibly to the
science of government, education and economics.
Not indifferent to polite literature, he read deeply the
best English authors, nor was he unacquainted with
foreign literature, even with the wits of Weimar and
Ferrara. His studies ran strongly, though, to eco-
nomics and he could tell you most of Adam Smith
and Montesquieu, of Pestalozzi and Savigny.
Desirous to confiscate no man's estate, he never-
theless sought some more equitable distribution of


38
THIEVES
wealth, for he was one of those queer people who
believe that things can be made better for mankind
than they are, and who for some unaccountable rea-
son persist in putting themselves to inconvenience to
improve them. The multitude, captivated by his
handsome presence, his noble voice and his flow of
simple words, proclaimed him in their hearts a future
tribune. You had to hear him but a minute to apply
the felicitous sentence of Tacitus on real eloquence,
when he resembles it to a flame that needs only mat-
ter to feed it, motion to excite it, and whose very
burning makes it clear. Urendo clarescit.
On the same Sunday morning on which these rich
neighbors, as we have just been describing them, were
engaged in discussing John Richardson and devising
plans by which to thwart him, that gentleman had
risen early and was sauntering with his mother in
the garden.
"So you like these new clothes?" said he.
"Yes, John, and I'm rather pleased to see that you're
taking greater interest in your appearance."
"I don't know why, mother, but somehow or other
I do feel a little more interest in these things."
The mother smiled as if she knew some other rea-
son, but said nothing.
"My trip abroad increased my desire for neatness."
"I'm so glad you had the money to take that trip."
"Going on foot and stopping at cheap hotels is easy
enough."
"You made the conditions in Europe wonderfully
clear, John, the other day in that little address. It
was so simple and beautiful."


THIEVES
39
"Oh, you like everything that I say, for that matter,
mother."
"Well, it's a great career that's opening before
you now. Have you ever thought of marrying,
John?"
"I? Oh, no, mother. No inclination, and with
poor Tom on my hands—well, it's out of the ques-
tion."
"Are you still worried about his cough, John?"
"Yes, I am, mother. He's got to go to Colorado,
must go, or to Arizona. He hasn't a cent saved,
either. But I can handle the thing. Marry? No,
mother."
"Dear boy, it's such a load with me too."
"Tut, mother, I've lifted something all my life and
can lift more now."
"But it keeps you so hard worked with nothing to
show."
"Stop worrying, you dear old goose. Look at
Tom's work, with the strike on his hands down there,
and the men about him day and night."
"Is there no hope, John, in that strike? Terrible,
the way that man Locksport's acting!"
"Yes, a little worse, mother, than anything we've
had yet. Simply forces men to go on working for
him—yes, terrible."
There was a step in the pathway, where a tall and
sickly-looking man appeared before them.
"Hello, John!" said he. "How are you, mother?"
"Oh, it's about you we'd be asking. How are
you, Tom, yourself?"
"Pretty well this morning, mother. Cough a bit


40
THIEVES
now and then, but I don't mind that at all. The Devil
himself couldn't kill me. And with all this work on
my hands, I feel finer than ever."
They betook themselves to a pleasant seat which
commanded a handsome view of the river, and Tom,
a fluent talker, began to relate incidents of the strike.
He detailed particularly the last situation at Lock-
sport's mill, describing the efforts of the men within
to communicate without after they discovered that
they had been lied to when they were engaged in New
York and Philadelphia. These efforts were defeated
by officers acting under unknown authority.
"It's the boldest thing ever attempted in America,
and to think of all this—all this woe and starvation
to get a cent more an hour!"
"So many people, Tom," said the mother, "don't
see why strikers are always specially angry with strike
breakers, more angry than with—"
"Oh, mother, a strike is like a battle. Every labor-
ing man that deserts or tries to take a striker's place
is like a soldier that says he's got a family to look
after at home and leaves the firing line. He's a low
deserter, isn't he, family or no family? Now that's
our situation. If a strike is just to begin with, every
man's got to stand shoulder to shoulder. When one
breaks the ranks, why, the rest—well, you know. The
meanest part of it is that the deserter or strike breaker
gets his wages from the enemy while we fight his bat-
tles, and if we win, he gets, of course, the new increase
or bettered conditions, too, doesn't he? No matter,
though, these men of Locksport's don't want to be
strike breakers. They're with us at heart and can't
get out."


THIEVES
41
"And what have you heard," said the mother, "from
Tommy Burns's family?"
"I went in there yesterday. The poor things are
having a hard time. The children are running around
the mother in rags."
"Won't the company pay at least the funeral ex*
penses?"
"No. They say if they paid this claim, they'd hav<
their hands full day and night."
John got up, walked a few steps and then sat down
again. "Here," he said, "hand her this, Tom, to
morrow. Here's five dollars for provisions."
"The mortgage on the house here's due soon, isn't
it?" asked the mother.
"Yes, to-morrow, but I went to see Edwards at the
Mechanics' National. All I have to do is to pay the
interest to-morrow. People that loan money on se-
curity like this are never in a hurry for it."
"Yes, I'm sure it must be good security, such a
place as this," said the mother, "considering that Mr.
Severn here would like to buy it."
"I suppose," remarked Tom, "that he'll never be
happy, next door here, till he gets this place away
from us."
"Well, I didn't accept his eight thousand dollars,"
said John. "He has the money to buy a place like
this, and I suppose he'd like to buy it as he did all the
others that were here before he levelled the ground
around him."
At this he arose and, seeming restless, walked up
and down the porch. "I think," he resumed, "that
I'll walk down the lane here toward the river. I want
to think over that address for Wednesday, Tom."


42
THIEVES
"Yes," added Tom, "the boys all want to hear from
you on this accident insurance question again. Come
back here, Trot," he added to his dog, a short, bull
terrier, who seemed inclined to follow John.
They watched him as he walked in the direction of
the pagoda. "It's a good thing for him to be alone.
He's interrupted a great deal, mother."
"Maybe he has other reasons for being alone than
you think."
"What's that, mother?"
She looked away with a slightly foolish expression,
and then with some hesitation, said:
"I can't help seeing some things, Tom. There's a
young lady next door."
"Next door where?"
"At the Severns', you know."
"Well, I suppose there are plenty of young ladies
next door there, mother."
"Yes, but I rather think there's one in particular,"
answered the mother.
"Yes, but what's that got to do with us?"
"Oh, I don't know," she replied, "but it may have
something to do with John."
Tom began to frown. "Mother, you don't mean
that John's having any acquaintance with that Sev-
ern girl?"
"I don't know what it amounts to."
"Well, mother, I don't like that—I don't like that."
"Don't like what?"
"John's having any acquaintance with Wallowell
Severn's daughter. Severn's the enemy of every-
thing connected with us and his daughter'll be the
same. If there's any acquaintance, we get the worst


THIEVES
43
of it. The girl can do nothing but make a fool of
people in our class of life."
"Your father was a gentleman, Tom."
"Oh, that's all well enough, mother, but times have
changed. We're brought up different. I'm no gen-
tleman myself, just as common as mud, just as com-
mon as plain mud, mother."
"Stop talking that way, Tom. And as for John,
he'd grace any drawing-room in Christendom."
"Yes, he might grace one of his own, but not any
one else's, least of all the drawing-room of a multi-
millionaire, mother, that's fighting every principle that
John upholds. What have they been doing?"
"Oh, nothing! I've noticed through the trees here
that there seems to be a bit of a bowing or chatting
this summer down there at the pagoda. That's all.
He says not a word to me."
"Well, I thank God if it ends there. Pretty?"
"She seems to be very beautiful," said the mother,
"though all I've seen of her is when I get off the elec-
tric car, and she shoots by in her automobile, with a
glimpse of her now and then as I walk down once
in a while myself, to the pagoda."
"Mother, I'm pretty hasty, I guess, and given to
shooting off my ideas ahead of time, but I've noticed
one thing about people of the Severn class—that in
some way they always tie up and defeat people of our
class when we set out to accomplish anything. One
way or another, that influence of theirs gets after us."
"Oh, that's your way, Tom, of worrying about
things that don't happen. You're a nervous man."
"Yes, I'm a nervous man, and that's just the reason
that I've held my own in the little course of life I've


44
THIEVES
marked out for myself. As for John, do you blame
me for feeling worried about his future? Can't I see
in a minute how a little thing like this might chill him
at the wrong time? Just between you and me, mother,
the strike's liable to go to Severn's mills because of
Severn's backing this fellow Locksport. Now, don't
be telling anybody—don't be whispering a word to
anybody—I'm telling you this in great confidence."
"What's this got to do with John?"
"It's got this to do with him. In the Common-
wealth Attorney's office he'll have a step to take. Now,
don't be talking to him about it, for I'm telling you
here in confidence, as my own mother, a step to arrest
somebody that thinks he's too big to be touched."
At this he paused and was silent for a few mo-
ments while he looked intently in the direction in
which John had disappeared.
"Yes, I see some—yes, some ladies down there now.
Mother, the mere fact of his becoming acquainted
with Severn's daughter will injure him with our peo-
ple, injure me too. Can't you see it?"
"Well, well, Tom, let's talk no more about it," said
his mother, a little offended and perceiving small
chance for discussion.
"They're moving off now I can see—yes, they're
moving off now, just this minute," said Tom, "and
let's not talk to John at all about it. Let's pretend
we don't know anything about it, unless we hear a
little more and then if anything* s to be said, mother,
I'll have a little talk with him myself."
"There's nothing to talk about, for that matter,"
answered the mother.


46
THIEVES
had something more than a word in passing, and which
required only his sauntering from the pagoda toward
the river. During this excursion he was confident
that, if Kate overtook him, it would not seem improper
to accompany her to the shore, or, if it should be on
his return that he should fall in with her, they might
naturally enough ascend the slope together.
A little ashamed of himself, he peeped over the
hedge where a better view could be had of the Severn
grounds and soon perceived the subject of his thoughts
herself walking with affected uncertainty in his direc-
tion. Waiting until she was near he remained con-
cealed by the hedge and then started towards the
stream in the veriest pretense of one musing and un-
concerned.
Presently there was a step behind him. Affecting
not to hear it he turned in the leisurely manner of
one finishing a stroll. Kate, in consequence, was in
a situation where, if she kept on toward the river, she
must all but touch him in passing, or should she now
stop simply because she saw him a few paces forward,
she must awkwardly betray a previous intention.
Both looked down with foolish faces, but Richard-
son, the first to recover himself, politely raised his hat
without words.
"Good morning," she said, beginning to laugh in a
trembling and uncertain fashion.
"I suppose you're taking a walk to the river," he
replied. "At least, I hope you are."
"I suppose there's no use of my denying it." Then
they both laughed happily.
"Suppose I walk with you, if you'll permit me?"
"Of course," she answered, trying to control a pleas-


THIEVES
47
ant little tremor. "I suppose you're studying as
usual. I see you have a book."
"Well, you might call it studying." He smiled
again in a conscious way.
"I've been reading your speeches."
"That's very kind, but you might have been read-
ing something better."
"I think they are very, very interesting."
"I was afraid they would not appear so on the other
side of the hedge. To some people my ideas on some
subjects are not altogether agreeable."
"Well, you see they haven't offended me, at least."
"I'm very grateful to you indeed, but I'm afraid
there are others in your family that don't take quite
the same view that you do."
"I—I—" she hesitated, "why, of course, they don't
quite understand you."
"Call me an anarchist, I suppose—a dynamiter."
"Oh, no—not exactly."
"Oh, I see!" and then he laughed. "I'm used to
that. Doesn't affect me at all. I'm sure that if peo-
ple look into the thing more, they'll feel that I mean no
harm to anybody."
"Why, yes," she replied, "that's what I always tell
them. I—I mean, of course, when I have anything
to say on the subject, for to be sure your name does
come up occasionally."
"It's a long story of misunderstanding," he said.
By this time they had reached the water's edge and,
sitting down upon a large stone bench, began to toss
pebbles into the stream.
Full of curiosity about his life and its objects, she
had him describe to her his studies and ideals, feigning


48
THIEVES
not to be ignorant of the name of Turgot when he
happened to mention, upon her extolling oratory, that
after all he would rather be such a man than have the
fame of Demosthenes.
"I shan't be a bit offended," Kate said, "if you
say what you like. I'm a bit of a convert myself al-
ready, you see. I suppose you like very learned girls."
"No, I don't think I do."
They were both very happy, each with difficulty con-
cealing from the other a tender excitement.
"I should think," said she, "you'd feel very proud
of yourself to have accomplished so much."
"Much?"
"Yes. I think you've accomplished a great deal."
"A great deal? In what way?"
"Why, I don't know—I think, a great deal, Mr.
Richardson—do you care to be rich?"
"I never thought of that."
"It's refreshing to hear somebody say that. What
do you call accomplishing something?"
"Doing something that mankind will bless one for."
Indifference to wealth was to a girl in Kate's situa-
tion exactly the quality that would most recommend
this man. Satiated with luxury, she was attracted by
the very novelty of a person who cared nothing
about it.
"And I'm very proud of you for that ambition,"
she said sweetly and then, dropping her eyes, "I sup-
pose you think we're perfectly terrible, across the
hedge, with our extravagance?"
"Oh, there's so much extravagance," he answered,
"in this town that I could hardly take one person as
an object of criticism more than another. Besides, I


THIEVES,
49
don't entirely condemn extravagance. I mean it is a
relative sort of term."
"Well, you may condemn me if you wish, Mr. Rich-
ardson, for I'm afraid I'm a very extravagant per-
son."
"I don't suppose you ever wear the same gown a
dozen times."
"I'm sorry to confess many of my gowns are given
away before I've worn them the third time."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I'm ashamed to say it."
"This is another side of life to me. May I ask how
many automobiles you have?"
"Why—why—I declare I don't know. Half a
dozen, I think. Wait—let me think! Yes, six or
eight."
"You don't even know how many automobiles you
have?"
"There! You've begun to censure me, haven't
you?"
"Oh, no, I didn't mean it that way—really."
"Well, I don't care. I am extravagant and I know
it. And everybody about our house is, I suppose.
When I read about the poor sometimes, I am so
ashamed of myself! And yet I don't know what to
do."
"You don't seem much the worse for extravagance.
I'm sure it hasn't hurt you yet. But since you speak
of the poor, why haven't you ever thought of trying
to do something deliberately for them? Haven't you
ever been in the tenement districts?"
"No, I've never been there at all."
"I thought fine ladies made a fad of slumming."


THIEVES
"Don't call me a fine lady!"
"Well, ladies, then."
"They used to do it, but I think they've got tired of
it now."
"It's too bad you can't take a trip through there,
Miss Severn. I—I really think you'd understand some
things better."
"I'm sure I should, but how could I ever go? Ter-
rible places!"
"Get some one to take you."
"Whom?"
"Why, why—oh, there's plenty would take you."
"But who's to take me?" asked she somewhat archly.
"Do you really want to go?"
"Yes, I'd be delighted to go."
"You're quite sure?"
"Yes, absolutely sure."
"And why—why shouldn't I take you there my-
self?"
"Really? Do you mean it?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"To-morrow, or next day."
"All right—to-morrow be it. To-morrow!"
They were now a trifle excited, for each knew that
what was proposed had some risk in it—that it was
something improper, considering the inevitable opposi-
tion of her father to this acquaintance.
"You probably spend much of your time abroad,"
he remarked as they began to stroll up the slope home-
ward. "Do you like European men?"
"No—almost detest them. I like our American
men."


THIEVES
51
"It's a gay life you appear to lead in your set. Are
you all happy?"
"If there's anybody happy in our set except de-
butantes, I never saw them. Everybody's grumbling.
The more money the more grumbling. I suppose it's
because they haven't anything to work for. If I were
a man—"
"Would you like to be a man?"
"Mercy, no! I wouldn't be a man for the world!
I was only going to say that if I were, I'd make some-
body know I was alive."
"Here we are back at the pagoda," he said.
"Where shall we meet to-morrow, Mr. Richard-
son?"
"Wherever you say, Miss Severn."
"Let me see! I'll be at Home's store at about
eleven. How would that do—eleven o'clock?"
"Yes, eleven. I'll meet you there exactly at that
hour."
"All right—at Home's principal entrance at eleven."
"Oh, how d'ye do, Miss Kate?" said a voice behind
her. The two looked back and saw at a glance Short-
ridge and Mrs. Severn.


CHAPTER IX
"T SUSPECTED this," whispered Mrs. Severn to
* Shortridge.
They were all a little embarrassed, nobody knowing
just why. Kate, though in a situation which might
in the eyes of the others be deemed a trifle improper,
was so aglow with enthusiasm for Richardson as to
feel for a moment that everybody would be proud to
meet him.
"This is Mr. Richardson, Mr. Shortridge," she said.
"Oh, I know Mr. Richardson very well. Met him
in business two or three times."
"Yes, I've had the pleasure, too, Mr. Shortridge."
By this time she was about to introduce her step-
mother, but that lady had withdrawn a step to avoid
contamination, whereupon Kate, fearful that Richard-
son might observe and be hurt by this, declared she
must hurry home.
"Why, yes, you two might go back and I'll have a
chat here with Mr. Richardson, now that I've fallen
in with him," said Shortridge.
"Of course," said John.
"Why, yes, it's purely accidental, too. There're
quite a number of things we might talk over to-day.
Going, did you say, Mrs. Severn? Yes, I'll join you
by and bye."
"Good day, Mr. Richardson," said Kate.
52


THIEVES
53
"Good-by, Miss Severn," and John could not help
feeling a great separation.
"You've got a rather comfortable little place here,
I think, Mr. Richardson," said Shortridge, looking
about him toward the cottage. "Quite comfortable,
upon my word! You've been doing very well, haven't
you?"
"I might have done much worse."
"Yes, I was taking a stroll here with Mrs. Severn.
Haven't seen much of you of late."
"You never did see much of me, Mr. Shortridge,
and generally on subjects not altogether agreeable,
when I used to be bringing personal injury claims
about your office."
"Oh, yes! oh, yes! I remember—when I was more
strictly in the legal department. Well, they weren't
so disagreeable. We get used to that sort of thing,
you know. I want to say, Mr. Richardson, that I
always liked the way you handled those claims. Some
fellows used to come around as if they had a club in
their hands. I want to say that I've frequently spoken
of you to men pretty high up."
"Very kind in you, indeed! I supposed you had
forgotten me entirely."
"No, sir! no, sir! We never forget the fellows
that make an impression on us. It's part of our
business, Richardson, to remember the bright fellows
when we see them. We mark 'em—find places for
them."
John making no remark, Shortridge continued.
"I myself am a sort of a legal adviser with executive
functions. Our great companies now-a-days can't get
on without that combination. I'm not the whole thing


54 THIEVES
there yet—not by a long shot—but still I'm getting on
pretty well."
"This is a very practical age, undoubtedly."
"Practical! There never was an age so practical,
and it's the practical part of this age that's bringing
about all the good results. I tell you, Richardson, the
fellow who ignores the practical side of modern times
is the man who drifts behind."
"He very often does."
"Why, certainly! Now take yourself here.
Though, as I say, you've been doing very well, my
God, man, you might have been rich already!"
"How?"
"Why, with your talents—you understand. You've
got into the wrong channel. You started out with a
class that won't do you any good. What good
is there in binding a brain like yours up to the
fickle and ungrateful proletariats? They'll turn on
you, distrust you in a minute. Or what's the good
of allying yourself with twaddling old reformers, as
they call themselves, like Totten, of the Public Wel-
fare League, arranging goody-good speeches, the way
he does. They always fall down. You ought to be
getting in with the large interests instead of fighting
them."
John said nothing, but let his late acquaintance pro-
ceed.
"Have a cigar. Here, this one. As I was saying,
business is business. Every man finds it out sooner
or later. I found it out myself, found it out before
I was twenty-five. I just looked around and I said
to myself, 'See here, George, where's the influence in
this town? Who puts things through? Who are the


THIEVES
55
big people?' So the first thing I did was to get right
into a large corporation office."
John appearing to listen to all this, Shortridge en-
larged on men whom he called sound. All thoughtful
young fellows made haste, it was clear, to feather their
nests.
, "Now look," he continued, "at a career like Small's.
He got in with strong interests. Off he went to Con-
gress! A leader now."
"Yes, Small has done very well."
"I should think so, but now a different matter.
About your selling this place to Mr. Severn. Ap-
proached already?"
"I hope it doesn't annoy him, its being here."
"No, it doesn't annoy him, but he can do so much
more with it."
"Certainly. But to be frank, I really don't care to
sell."
"Oh, I understand just how you feel. Naturally,
you have a little sentiment—of course you have—
don't blame you a bit, and we rather reckon on that.
Taking that into account, we ought to make an offer
in proportion, and I'm in favor of twenty thousand
dollars."
"Twenty thousand?"
"Yes, twenty thousand."
"Mr. Shortridge," replied John slowly, "twenty
thousand dollars is a great deal of money to me, much
more money than I ever expected to have at this time
in my life and a great deal more than this place is
worth."
"Well, this is good!" exclaimed Shortridge. "Com-
plaining that we're offering too much!"


56
THIEVES
"Yes, too much! I don't care to compel a man to
pay twice what property is worth."
"Why, that's his business if he wants to, isn't it?"
"Yes, and no. It's his business if he wants to give
a million, but maybe some people don't care to have
other people feel forced to do a certain thing."
"Oh, now, that's not the way to look at it at all."
"Shortridge, I think the offer is liable to misunder-
standing between neighbors. I say neighbors, though
of course I have no acquaintance with Mr. Severn."
"Glad to see that you and Miss Kate have begun to
be neighborly."
"We—why, we've only formed a—I suppose you'd
call it a passing-by sort of acquaintance. Now, as to
this property, it's only worth about ten thousand dol-
lars. If I conclude to sell at any time, I will sell it to
you for ten thousand, unless the market should happen
to go up."
"You are a queer one!"
"No. The fact is, the property's not worth more
than six or seven thousand except for Mr. Severn's
residence being next to it."
Shortridge looked at him two or three times, consid-
erably nonplussed, but soon, affecting to be satisfied
with the situation, he lighted another cigar.
"All right," he said, "this will be considered as ne-
gotiations pending, as I naturally don't care to go back
to Mr. Severn and tell him I haven't accomplished any-
thing. I wanted this morning, besides, to have a chat
about matters in general. You're in the Common-
wealth Attorney's office now, and of course you'll do
your duty there, but I think if you knew a little more
about our situation from our own lips, you'd probably


THIEVES
•57
be able to act a little more intelligently. I don't mean
to say but you understand the situation thoroughly,
but sometimes I feel as if our side never gets a fair
hearing in a certain office."
John did not attempt to conceal a smile.
"Why, Shortridge, you know just as well as I do
that you people control the executive departments of
this city as fully as if you owned them."
"Pshaw!"
"Yes, there's the mayor to begin with. There's the
entire police force beyond a question. There's every
newspaper in town excepting one."
"Oh, that's the way you fellows always talk, Rich-
ardson. I don't mind it a bit, though. Hammer
away."
"Thanks for your good nature. I think I'll take
advantage of it. This is a good chance to educate
capital." He smiled as did Shortridge also with a nod.
"It does seem to me, Mr. Shortridge, as if capital
and the public had come pretty near to the parting of
the ways."
"See what capital has done for this country."
"See what this country has done for capital."
"Yes, but what more can capital do? The wealth
of the United States has been increasing by leaps and
bounds—"
"And where has it been going?"
"Who's getting—it's distribution, you mean? Dis-
tributed? Why, I should say it's wonderfully dis-
tributed. Where I knew of one millionaire ten years
ago I know of a dozen now."
"And that's distribution, is it? Excuse my smiling.
This means nothing better than that the class on top


58
THIEVES
has increased. It doesn't mean that the wage-earner
or the salaried man has had any gain at all or any
gain proportioned to the increased cost of living.
Would an English wage-earner, small shop-keeper, or
salaried man feel that he was getting his share of the
newly created wealth if there were pointed out to him
a dozen new dukes created from the great monied
class? Hardly."
"What the devil can be done, though?"
"At least lighten the burdens of the multitude—"
"By Socialism?" asked Shortridge.
"Not necessarily. That need not be considered so
soon. No. Only by laws already tried and found
fair in European countries, an income tax, a parcels
post, workingmen's accident compensation. These
laws alone would relieve the pressure on the under
classes. Individualism—"
—"That means government non-interference in any-
thing, as I understand the term."
"Yes. Individualism has run mad in this country.
Individualism, which plausibly boasts of protecting
the busy against the encroachments of the idle, and
of encouraging energy is, if unrestrained, a curse. It
allows the strong to climb upon the weak and the stu-
pid or immoral lucky to prosper at the expense of
the unfortunate who may have been brighter and bet-
ter. It produces, and in both England and the United
States has produced, two conditions, enormous wealth
and terrible poverty side by side. It's not so in Ger-
many and France. They have neither the one nor the
other, and where are there two sounder countries?"
"But in this country while there's some poverty, it
doesn't amount to much."


THIEVES
59
"It does—pardon me. We know now by undisputed
statistics that in this, the richest country in the world,
eighteen millions of people are either indigent or un-
able to save a dollar."
"Grant that for argument's sake. Now, I still don't
see their grievance."
"First, they want such laws as I have been mention-
ing and they ought to have had them long ago instead
of being called dreamers or anarchists. Second, they
are angry at the morals of capital. Our people never
grumbled at the size of fortunes until they saw how
many were corruptly acquired."
"Oh, there's been some unfair work by rich men, I
confess."
"Some! Nearly universal. Our merchant class
generally have been sound. But the rest of them!
They're individualists indeed! The fraudulent re-
bates, the cheating at the custom house, the villainous
thefts in special tariffs, the swindling of the public
in watered railway stocks, and then the awful alliance
in cities between the owners of franchises and the
criminal classes, the corruption of mayors, the bribing
of municipal officers, all these things resulting in colos-
sal fortunes are what embitter the man of humble
means. Oh, all this rottenness is the inevitable effect
of unbridled individualism. It forces men to be cold-
blooded. The state does nothing for the citizen, the
citizen contributes nothing to the state. No man is to
make a governmental sacrifice for another. On the
contrary, he must trample on all who are too weak to
resist, for he will be trampled on himself, if he weakens
his strength by assisting another."
Shortridge was silent. John continued:


6o
THIEVES
"There! You throw away a freshly lighted cigar,
either because it didn't puff well or because you were
thinking. It cost, say, twenty-five cents. Why, Mr.
Shortridge, I know at least a dozen good and intelli-
gent men who walk a mile or two a day to save five
or ten cents and are glad to save just twenty-five cents
in twenty-four hours. What does that man think of
a capitalist's right to a bonus of, say, millions of dollars
for consolidating some railways or manufactures in
which he was already a shareholder and which ought
to have been consolidated, if at all, for nothing.
What, do you suppose, is in his thoughts?"
"Revolution?"
"Or evolution."
"Which?"
"That's for capital to decide."
"Either the angry wave—"
"Or the slowly swelling stream. The evolution to
the age of direct or indirect sharing in profits."
"Government ownership?"
"Perhaps, but that is doubtful. Industrial regula-
tion and distribution first."
"Well, Richardson, I hold up my hands. I cry
quits. You bowl me out every time," replied Short-
ridge with guileful good nature. "I can't answer all
this, but I'm always willing to hear the other side."
"I beg pardon for making an argument here to a
visitor."
"You put it splendidly, old man," said the other,
who, long accustomed to public abuse, had never been
at the trouble, and to this he owed his success, to make
reply, because in the long run indignation was sure to


THIEVES 61
expire or opposition to be extinguished by a simple
cheque. He bade good-day in the pleasantest fashion
and, as he departed, said they must have another chat
soon again.
-


CHAPTER X
**ENLARGING your circle of acquaintances, ap-
parently," said Mrs. Severn, as she and Kate
moved away from the pagoda toward the Severn house
and left Richardson and Shortridge in conversation.
"Yes, getting acquainted with my neighbors," re-
plied Kate cheerily and cleverly concealing her uneasi-
ness about impending exposure.
"Some people might consider it lowering their
standard."
"I suppose so. Nothing too low for me, though."
"You needn't be ironical, Miss Severn. You've not
told your father about this, I presume."
"No, I left that to you. I was pretty sure—"
"I never mention your name to him, but you
know—"
"Thanks!"
"—that loyalty to him should keep you from ac-
quaintance with one of his enemies, a low—"
"I should think, from your grand point of view,
that Mr. Shortridge wouldn't want to meet Mr. Rich-
ardson—"
"Mr. Shortridge had to see him on business."
"Well, he'll find a man as bright as himself."
"I'm sure I don't know, Miss Severn, as I haven't
had the same opportunity to meet the gentleman that
you've had. So far as I know, this Richardson of
yours is nothing but a penniless, noisy ignoramus."
62


THIEVES
63
"And, for that matter, your Mr. Shortridge is only
a hired man."
"Silly little thing! Mr. Shortridge is a lawyer, one
of the most carefully selected in the whole state of
Pennsylvania. If you had seen anything of the world,
you wouldn't talk in that foolish fashion."
"I haven't your years and experience, of course."
"Now you think that's bright! I suppose you'd be
very glad if Mr. Shortridge would only notice you."
"Who—Shortridge? I'd be very glad if he'd only
stop looking at me."
"Looking at you?"
"Yes, ogling me. He's always giving me looks that
I don't care to return."
The other flushed as she looked upon the beautiful
girl at her side, but before the conversation could be-
come still more unamiable, Nora appeared and, point-
edly ignoring the stepmother, announced to Kate that
her luncheon was ready.
"I feel fine," said Kate, "and have a terrible appe-
tite this morning. I can't wait till I get a bite of some-
thing." Upon this she disappeared into the house, fol-
lowing Nora and leaving Mrs. Severn in an exceed-
ingly exasperated mind. In her own rooms, where it
was served, she ate her luncheon in a variety of
thoughts, both uneasy and delightful, while her lively
maid was in the humor for talking.
"Sure, Miss Kate, it's none of my business," said
she, "but I don't suppose you happened to notice Mr.
Shortridge with Mrs. Severn?"
"What do you ask that for, Nora?"
"Oh'm, I suppose it's not for me to talk."


64
THIEVES
"Well, you seem to want to talk. Now, what
about?"
"Oh, nothing, mum."
Kate felt that she ought to resist the inclination of
the girl, but her own curiosity was getting the better
of her and, seeing that Nora was suffering to speak,
she continued:
"What's on your mind?"
"Sure, it's not for the likes of me to talk."
This admitting in one sense of no debate, Kate was
disposed to silence when Nora, perceiving her oppor-
tunity about to be lost, broke out:
"I suppose Mr. Shortridge has to come here a great
deal?"
"Of course he has, Nora. He has business every
day with father."
"Oh, I suppose so."
"Now, you know it's so, Nora. What do you
mean?"
"Oh, well, mum, there's thim in this world that can
have two errands in one house."
"The other errand isn't to see you, is it, Nora?"
"Oh, the good Lord forbid, mum! The saints for-
bid! I'm not that kind of a girl, Miss Kate. I'm a
good girl, Miss Severn."
"Of course you are, Nora! Then what is it you're
driving at?"
"It's not for me to mintion names, mum, but I think
you left her behind just a minute ago at the door
downstairs."
"You foolish girl!" cried Kate. "Of course it's
only natural for him to see Mrs. Severn. You mustn't


THIEVES
65
talk about it any more—not a word now, Nora! I
don't wish ever to hear anything of that kind."
"You've only to say a word to me, mum, to shut my
mouth as long as you please. But, of course, though
I can't speak a thing, I can't help seeing what goes on
around me. Not that I'm going to tell what I did see
one night, Miss Kate. Not at all, mum. I've not an-
other word to say."
Upon this she slipped out of the room leaving Kate
in much curiosity and, when the maid reappeared with
a platter full for the table, the mistress was disposed
to renew the talk. However, she ate in silence until
Nora, after a turn or two around the table, began on
another subject. "There's the handsomest gintleman
next door, Miss Kate, I ever laid me eyes on," saying
which, she eyed her mistress a little cautiously and
hopefully and busied herself at the table.
"Yes, I've noticed he is. Very handsome, I think,
Nora," replied Kate with some color.
"Oh, mum, the most beautiful man I iver see in me
life! And the people here, mum, they all tell me down
town he's the most iloquent man that iver opened his
mouth. Sure, wan night I was down there, wan Sat-
urday night, and there was a great meeting in the
street. I was with Pat O'Donnell, him that ye've
heard me spake of before, I suppose, and says I, 'Pat,
what's all this crowd for, up here at the corner?' 'Oh,'
says he, 'Nora, John Richardson's going to speak to-
night.' 'Him that lives up near us, Pat?' says I. 'The
same,' says he. 'Then I'd like to hear him,' says I.
'Just follow me,' says he. And with that—will ye
have a biscuit, mum, another biscuit?—with that he


66
THIEVES
pushes me through the crowd till he meets one of the
police, a friend of his that's to be made a sergeant next
month because of the fine work he did last election,
beatin' the Gilhooly crowd away from the polls. And
with the officer we kept on a crowdin' an' a crowdin'
an' a pushin' the people, an' a threatenin' to club 'em,
till we got up to a place where I could listen to ivery
word that the man said. Oh, I wish you could hear the
honey that flowed from that man's lips, Miss Kate!"
Kate tried to conceal her interest. "Did he really
speak so well?"
"Like an angel, mum! Oh, the books that he quotes
from, and the big words he can use! Handing 'em out
just as easy, mum, as if he was born wid 'em in his
mouth."
"Was there a large crowd, Nora?"
"Yis, mum."
"How did they seem to like it?"
"Oh, wonderful! Sometimes he had 'em cryin', and
sometimes he had 'em laughin', and he jist did with
'em as he pleased. Now that's the word, mum, jist
as he pleased. And they say that he's honest as gold,
and that all the corporations in town have been tryin'
to buy him, and can't even reach him. It's a shame,
mum, you can't hear him yourself—it'd do ye good to
hear a man talk like that. And him livin' so near ye
that it seems to me ye ought to be acquainted with
him."
The wench knew very well that Kate had already
met this man, but she could only angle a little in the
hopes of a voluntary revelation.
"Well—well, the fact is, Nora, I have met him casu-
ally, as Mr. Richardson once or twice walked down


THIEVES
67
to the river bank. Yes, he's very nice—very interest-
ing. Now, Nora, you can take these things away."
"Well, that's very fine, mum," replied Nora, as she
busied herself with the dishes. "And I'm sure it's
very swate and neighborly in ye, indade, mum. I'm
sure it doesn't become even the best of us to put on
airs."
"Yes, Nora, that's very sensible in you."
"And if poor Mr. Richardson does come of jist com-
mon people like me—"
"There, now, hurry up and go off with the dishes."
"It does me heart good to hear ye spake of him so
kindly, because me own mother said to me, 'Nora,'
says she, 'ye must niver be proud in this world to any
wan, no matter now low they may be.'"
"There,onow, hurry."
These reflections of the maid, it may be conceded,
were not wholly to the taste of her mistress, being, in
truth, such as reminded her very forcibly of the worldly
objections against this growing love for Richardson.
To no purpose, though, did she resist the current of
affection. If she told herself that she was surrender-
ing her heart to one whom she dare not invite to her
house, she would in an instant recall the tone of his
voice, the depth of his glance and the tender firmness
of his lips.
The beautiful girl flung herself on a couch while she
carelessly surveyed the various objects of that luxury
which neither extravagance nor bounty could exhaust.
She kicked from her pretty foot an embroidered slip-
per, while she dropped from her shoulders a delicate
fabric of lace. The mere rings on her fingers exceeded
in value all that this noble fellow had been able to save


68
THIEVES
in his struggle against poverty, this man whose talents,
she well knew, could secure the favor of the rich but
who was willing to champion the poor. The great and
powerful, covering his name with abuse, were at the
same time scheming for his little home.
These truths were well calculated to increase her
ardor. But what was to become of all this sentiment?
Was it reciprocated, to begin with? She would have
turned cold had she felt the least doubt in that re-
spect. But fortunately for her composure, every word
and look of his that she could recall caused her cheeks
to redden like a rose. This stimulating her courage,
she had yet to contemplate the awful contempt of her
father, which she might face under some conditions
but not under all. Suppose Richardson or his friends
should make matters worse and involve her own fam-
ily? The strike, she knew, might spread to the Sev-
ern mills, Tom Richardson would be at the head and
front, and what then would the town have to say of
her?
Her more immediate concern was that her step-
mother might disclose to her father the discovered
acquaintance. Should she herself make it known first
by voluntary avowal? Here she hesitated. Not
afraid of his temper, she shrank nevertheless from ad-
mitting what she might be compelled to avow was
weakness.
Not long though did apprehension trouble a spirit
like hers. The very thought of unfair opposition
roused defiance.
"Let things take care of themselves," said she to
herself, as she went down to the library to search in
the cyclopedia for the life of Turgot.


CHAPTER XI
"EQUALLY unpleasant were the reflections of the
stepmother. Her first inclination was to betray
without delay to Kate's father the peculiar situation
just disclosed, but some other considerations imme-
diately presented themselves. There might be retalia-
tion. She who lived in a glass house must not yet
throw stones. That Nora, at least, suspected her re-
lations with Shortridge was quite clear, and these
suspicions doubtless had been communicated to Kate,
who, if irritated, would probably defend herself by
counter-attack.
Her animosity was now intensified by Kate's in-
timating that she had attracted, however unwill-
ingly, the admiration of Shortridge, nor would her
apprehensions down as she remembered that Kate was
commonly reckoned one of the handsomest girls in
the city. She knew not for which to hate her step-
daughter the more,—the having received, or the will-
ingness to spurn, attentions that she deemed good
enough for herself. Her final resolution was to await
an opportunity favorable to her bad intentions, when,
finding Severn vexed with his daughter for some
other reason, she would drop a hint and if Kate
should make a counter-charge, it might be laid to
mere retaliation. She felt she must not, in fine, go
too fast, because Severn in the squabbles between the


70
THIEVES
two women occasionally grew very testy toward his
wife.
Most necessary, as a first measure, was it to re-
move Nora from the house. This wench, once dis-
charged, would not probably be so great a danger as
at present under the same roof, where she was liable
to be a disagreeable witness at hand. How to bring
about her dismissal was the difficulty, since the very at-
tempt might provoke her tongue.
Mrs. Severn's great comfort in delay was that she
would probably discover such further indiscretions of
Kate with Richardson as would be beyond all defense
in the eyes of Severn. It is observable, too, that the
lady made no doubt of Kate's taking delight in charg-
ing her with indelicate conduct if she should get the
opportunity, an expectation which illustrates the say-
ing of Carlyle that our opinions of others are meas-
ures not so much of them as of ourselves.
For the present, in short, she resolved to show
Kate a great deal of mercy, the quality of mercy in
fashionable life being, it is plain, a nice apprehension
of reciprocal stab.
By this time she was advised by one of the maids
that Mr. Severn would have her take luncheon with
him on the upper" veranda. She was requested also
to invite Shortridge, in case he should have returned.
Just about this time the latter gentleman made his
appearance in his usual amiable mood, while he waved
his hand to her from the lawn below.
* "Tell him to come up to luncheon," said Severn.
"And by the way, where's Kate? Isn't she going to
take lunch with us?"


THIEVES
71
"I believe she's taking lunch in her own rooms," re-
plied the stepmother.
"Did you ask her to take it here?"
"I did not. She knows her own mind."
"Oh, there you go again! How long is this thing
going to continue?"
"Until she marries, I suppose."
"Yes, I've just been thinking of that myself. I've
been thinking of it for sometime back. Not that I
want to lose my daughter, but I want all this infernal
rowing stopped in this family."
"It would be just as well, a good thing, if she'd
marry."
"Well, there's lots of young fellows about here
with plenty of money," resumed Severn, "and if she
can't get one with plenty of money, I suppose it's bet-
ter if she marries some one else, Shortridge, for in-
stance."
"What?"
"Shortridge."
"Marry Shortridge!" exclaimed she.
"Yes. Why not?"
"Oh, he can't bear the sight of her!"
"He can't, can't he? Can't bear the sight of my
daughter?"
"No—detests her."
"Well, I like that! A fellow in my pay! Our
company pays that fellow between thirty and forty
thousand a year, and you tell me here in this house
that he despises my daughter. I'd like to know what
I pay him for! Huh!"
"Oh, I don't mean that Mr. Shortridge despises


72
THIEVES
her. I mean he never had any particular liking for
her."
"Why didn't you put it that way?"
"I don't know. Of course if you're—she's—she's
very young—"
"Well, here's Shortridge now, so we can't talk about
it any more. What success did you have with that
fellow, Shortridge?"
"Well, only so-so. Had to listen to a long homily
on all sorts of political economy and public property.
How's that pain in your leg now?"
"Getting a little bit better. Here, Wattles, put
that table over there a little more in the shade. Fix
this chair better."
At this the butler busied himself, moving Severn's
chair to another part of the veranda, and this giving
Shortridge an opportunity, he asked Mrs. Severn:
"Have you said anything to him about Kate's being
down there?"
"Of course not! I think we'd better not worry him
about it just yet."
"Well, it just flashed over my mind that any inti-
macy that sprang up between her and that fellow
would do Richardson more harm than it would her."
"How?"
"With the workmen it would injure him pretty
badly and I shan't be surprised if they hear about it."
"You seem to be more anxious to injure him than
you do her."
"I don't know why I should do anything to hurt
her."
"Oh, no, I don't either. I just noticed it, that's
all."


THIEVES
73.
"What did you and that fellow do down there?"
asked Severn. "But see here, coming up the drive!
Here's Locksport coming back. Who's that with
him?"
"It's Small."
"Wants to talk politics, I suppose," said Severn.
"Just tell them to come up here while they're about it
and have a bite, too."
Mrs. Severn so instructed Wattles, who in turn
despatched another servant to the floor below, himself
meantime making preparations for the additional two
persons. It was only a moment until the other gen-
tlemen appeared.
"I just happened to find Small down town here and
brought him up with me," said Locksport. "I started
home a little early and thought I'd see you on the
way."
"How d'ye do, Mrs. Severn? How d'ye do, Mr.
Severn? Haven't seen you in a week," said Small.
"No, I've been laid up with this cursed pain all the
time. It seems to me the doctors in this country ought
to be able to do something for a man."
"Mrs. Locksport remains well, I hope?" asked Mrs.
Severn.
"Oh, yes! All right, all right, thank you, but I have
to try the whole medical profession about once or
twice a year, it seems to me."
"And now tell us all what that fellow said down
there," said Severn to Shortridge.
"Yes, we want to hear," said Locksport.
"Why, it's the most extraordinary story you ever
heard in your life. I actually offered the man twenty
thousand dollars—about five, thousand more, than L


THIEVES
75
"I should say so!" echoed Shortridge.
"Yes, he's a pretty oily Belial," said Small.
"'Oily Belial' 's good," cried Shortridge.
"What's a Belial?" asked Severn. "Some Italian
preparation?"
"What's that? I didn't hear," inquired Small.
"Oh, never mind, Small!" interrupted Shortridge,
while Mrs. Severn exclaimed: "Oh, Mr. Small, it's
no wonder they admire your speeches in Congress so!
That is rather a pretty sounding phrase, isn't it now?"
"He finally said he'd consider the matter, but only
on the basis of ten thousand," Shortridge resumed.
"Well, but did you get out of him anything regard-
ing the strike situation?" asked Locksport.
"No, I decided not to touch on that subject yet. He
finally said I could consider the other matter as still
under consideration."
"I had a telephone while down town," said Lock-
sport, "from my manager, and he says things are
just about as they were."
Locksport winked knowingly at Shortridge while he
whispered to Mrs. Severn: "There's real danger now
of the strike spreading to your mills. A meeting last
night, I understand," and then he said aloud:
"You will be amused to hear that there's a threat
of all the working classes to draw out their savings
from the banks."
"I like that!" exclaimed Severn derisively. "Their
savings!"
"Yes, I should like to know what savings they
have," echoed Mrs. Severn.
"Thank God, they haven't got any savings!" said
Severn. "If an American workman gets a dollar


76
THIEVES
ahead in the world, nobody can hold him down. He
gets a bigger head than the Emperor of Germany."
"We ought to have a standing army in this country,"
said Locksport. "The police aren't strong enough."
"I think conscriptions would be a good thing in
this country," said Severn. "These strikes are fear-
fully expensive things, Mr. Small, fearfully expen-
sive. Why doesn't Congress take our expenses of
fighting strikes into consideration in estimating the cost
of production under the tariff?"
"The idea is well worth consideration," replied the
statesman.
By this time Locksport had left the table under the
pretense of strolling on the veranda and, having made
a sign to Shortridge, had drawn that gentleman to-
ward the other end too.
"I didn't know whether to say anything to Severn
about the matter," said Locksport, "but things are
coming to a crisis. The Commonwealth Attorney's
office is going to be applied to to-morrow by the strik-
ers in dead earnest. Hagan says the thing's getting
beyond his control."
"When did you see him?"
"Not an hour ago."
"What does he say is probably their move?"
"Oh, it's simple enough, confound it! They're just
going to ask him not only to arrest me but Severn too
as co-conspirator in false imprisonment."
"Severn, too?"
"Severn, too! I don't want it mentioned to him yet
because he gets into such a rage, so cursed stupid he
can't see any of the legal dangers, and he might come
out with a dangerous roar."


THIEVES
77
"You're right," Shortridge observed, thoughtfully.
"Well," continued Locksport, "I tried to have Hagan
promise that if his office was forced to take some such
step as that, they'd let things drag for a week or two
after they began proceedings."
"Can't he get Richardson out of town on some busi-
ness?"
"No, we went over all that," replied Locksport.
"The only way is to get him bought off. I was hop-
ing you had done something down there, offering him
twice the value of his property."
"I'm afraid not, but there's a queer sort of circum-
stance to tell you."
"What's that?"
"Why, you can hardly believe your ears when I
tell you, but I actually discovered that Kate Severn
here is coquetting with this fellow over the back fence,
so to speak, down there beyond the hedge."
"What? I don't believe it!"
"I tell you she's been meeting the fellow there.
Mrs. Severn and I came upon her to-day, and they
were having a very confidential sort of chat, the two
of them, right there in that pagoda over the hedge."
"Well, for the Lord's sake! Does the old man
know it?"
"No, not a word. You know he's not a bad looking
fellow."
"Yes, and a pretty smart one. He knows a good
thing, eh? Severn's daughter! It's certainly very
funny. Let's see—can't we turn this to account?
She can influence him, can't she?"
"I don't know—maybe she wouldn't be willing."
"Oh, yes, for God's sake! The girl would be will-


78
THIEVES
ing to step in and make the fellow take his hands off
to help her father."
"She might. One thing struck me this morning,
and that is, that if this striking crowd ever hear of
Richardson's being connected with her, it's all day with
Mr. Richardson, isn't it?"
"Sure," exclaimed Locksport energetically, "and
besides, this thing's got to be used some way or other.
If Kate Severn's got any influence with that fellow
down there, she's simply got to use it, that's all!"
"Sure! yes! Here's a nice, mild cigar. I rather
think you'll like this kind, old man. Just try this one.
I get 'em for only sixty cents apiece direct from
Havana. Pretty cheap, isn't it? Now, here, I want
to add a final word on this business before we go
back to the old man. I'm going to have the news
spread to-morrow morning that Richardson's in love
with this girl. I'll bet you that within twenty-four
hours the strikers will have spies around this place.
Those fellows don't trust anybody."
"They certainly don't," replied Locksport, "I don't
know why, but I never could induce them to believe
a word I say, no matter how serious I am. They
ought to have confidence in a man like me when I
use plain words, and in black and white sometimes,
but, damn 'em, they don't! They're a vicious lot."
Sauntering back toward the other end of the ve-
randa, Locksport was in a musing humor. As they
reached the table, Severn said:
"Sit down and have a bite."
"Yes, do!" added the lady. "Sit here, Mr. Lock-
sport, and you here, Mr. Shortridge. Have you an
appetite, Mr. Severn?"








THIEVES
79
"I don't exactly know," replied the husband. "Let
me see, what did I have for breakfast? Just a sau-
sage or two, wasn't it? I suppose I ought to be
hungry. Wattles, there's a fly at the other end of
the table. He'll be annoying me in a minute. Brush
it away."
They seated themselves upon a terrace that might
almost rival Versailles, to wash down their dainty
morsels with Rhenish wine, and, while they railed
against the lowly who sweltered in the mills, they
forgot the vanity of pride in exquisite flavors and
delicate perfumes. A cynic indeed would he have
been who would have disturbed their repast by asking
whether Plutus shall, as in the old comedy, be made
on the prayer of some modern Chremylus to see again.
Severn grew mellow as he looked toward the cot-
tage of Richardson.
"The young philosopher's busy down there, I sup-
pose, hatching German statutes for us. I don't feel
unkindly to the laboring class. I subscribe fairly to
charities and the like. I suppose it's properly expected
of us, something at least. But as to anything more,
let them look out for themselves. That's what's made
our country. The American system's good enough
for me."


82
THIEVES
"What?"
"Twenty thousand."
"That's a terrific sum!" exclaimed the mother.
"I don't like that," said Tom. "What did you say
to him?"
"I told him I never could accept twenty thousand,
as the place was worth only about ten. I wouldn't
have my neighbors paying money to get rid of me."
"Honest talk, John. I wouldn't have my brother
put it differently, but, John, I'm not satisfied you
ought to remain in this house."
"Tom, don't talk that way!" cried his mother.
"Mother, it's not pleasant to be staying close to
people who have no use for you. That's one reason."
"Well, what's the other?"
"We're at swords' points with them. People will
talk about everything, and my followers, poor, God-
forsaken people, only half educated and most of them
ignorant—all of them, I guess, will be suspicious.
You know I'd sacrifice my life for you in a minute,
John. You know," he continued after a fit of cough-
ing, "there isn't much of this life left. We've all got
to die, anyway. Over at the other house they're rich
enough to have appendicitis. A poor devil like me
can only have old-fashioned consumption."
"Please don't talk that way, Tom," said the mother.
"No, no, Tom," added John.
"Oh, I'm good for some years yet. Don't worry
about me. Come here, Trot! Put your head in my
lap. Damn these people, I'll give them many a hard
fight yet! I was going to say, mother, that if we
were away from here, we'd have no neighbors to
mourn for, and there's nobody up there to drop one


THIEVES
83
of their thousand dollar tears for us if we move."
Here he glanced cautiously at John, who, however,
said nothing.
"What use have we to be living in a neighborhood
like this? Here's a man worth forty millions on one
side and a little way down the road another worth
twenty-five. I suppose they throw diamonds at each
other when they're mad. Old Severn's baby got a
million to start with. I suppose the old man gave him
a tariff too."
This conversation was very little to the taste of
John, who changed it to the situation at Locksport's
mills, expressing a hope that Tom could continue to
keep the crowd from breaches of the peace.
"I hope so, John, though everybody knows that that
man Locksport has men hired to raise trouble, and we
get the blame in the newspapers till our hearts are
sick. There was some college president, though most
of them seem to be our friends, who said that the real
hero was a strike breaker. Brave! Oh, yes.—He
keeps his wages. The real hero's the fellow that can
drop his job and go home to a crying wife to tell her
they've all got to go hungry till by standing together
they can get breathing time in front of the furnaces
or a cent or two more an hour to live on, or, if he's
a miner, honest weight at the scales or honest inspec-
tion for safety. That's the brave man!"
"Well," he continued, "there's one man in your of-
fice now that'll do his duty." John said nothing and
looked at the river.
"The boys are relying on you, John," to which no
reply. "We'll be at your office to-morrow to arrest
Locksport. No Hagan for us!"


84
THIEVES
"Hagan's a good man. I owe my place to him,
Tom."
"I've nothing to say to any man that tries to assist
my brother, but there were influences that he wasn't
able to resist. You'll not let him interfere, John?"
"I can't say, Tom. That's official business to be
acted on when it comes up."
"Do you mean to say that—that you'll let that fel-
low defeat us?"
"I didn't say that."
"Do you mean to say you won't do everything in
your power to aid us?"
"I said that what concerns official action, Tom, will
be dealt with when it comes up."
"Do you mean to say you'll not get after him?"
"I did not say that."
"Then you will, won't you?"
"I'll not say that, either."
"Are you getting too proud, John, to talk to your
brother?"
"You know I'm not."
"Then what harm in saying whether you will or
will not do a thing in accordance with the law?"
"I don't know yet whether it will be in accordance
with the law."
"Do you mean that you'll stand on technicalities?"
"Oh, Tom," said his mother, "don't you see that
you're worrying your brother?"
"Don't you see the surly attitude he's taking to-
ward me, mother? Don't you see the unreasonable
pride the man's showing to me this minute?"
"Tom, my boy, you're unreasonable.. You're.a.sick
man."


THIEVES
"Sick! Are you reminding me of that? Can't I
hold an ordinary conversation with you—can't I ask
a question without having my poor consumption
thrown in my face?"
"Oh, dear! dear!" cried the mother. "And this on
a Sunday morning."
"Go on, Tom," said John. "Say what you please."
"Oh, I'll have no pity, no charity in your tone at
all, John, to me. Although I've helped to make you,
I'd do it over again. I worked for you day and night.
And now, if you like anybody better than the rest
of us poor devils, say so! Oh, when I think of the
hunger and starvation of ten thousand families in
town this day, fighting for their poor little cent an
hour, fighting to get half an hour's rest a day—"
Just here he fell into a terrible fit of coughing and
though he at first disdained their assistance, he was
at length compelled to accept it, and was led into the
house. The telephone rang.
"It's for you, John," said the mother, who had an-
swered it.
"Here, put your arm around him, mother, while I
go to the 'phone."
After a few moments John returned to their side.
"I heard you mention Hagan's name," said Tom
half surlily.
"Yes, he says he's going out of town for a few
days."
"I know the man. He's dodging us. Well, it's up
to you, John—up to you! He knew what was com-
ing. He thinks you'll not dare to do it and him away
—it's up to you. No, I'll not say too much, mother.
I've been a bad fellow to-day—I've lost my temper—


86
THIEVES
I'm nothing but a poor, old, half-dying, God-forsaken
thing! You'll forgive me, John, won't you?"
"Dear Tom, don't speak of it!"
"And you too, mother, this Sunday morning?"
"God bless you, my dear Tom!"
"No, I'll not stay for lunch. I've got lots of work
to-day. I've got to go to three divisions—got to cover
fifteen miles to-day. No, John, we get very mad
sometimes and make fools of ourselves like me here,
but after all we labor leaders mean what's right and
we ask no officer of the law to do what's wrong."
"I know it, Tom."
"It's disagreeable for you sometimes," said Tom.
"You've got a disagreeable business to do as well as
I have—you may have to make trouble for people that
you like. This strike's spreading out of Locksport's.
To-morrow—well, day after to-morrow or next day
maybe it will be at Severn's. Good-by until to-mor-
row. I'll be out soon, mother."


CHAPTER XIII
I MMEDIATELY after luncheon Kate, receiving
word that her father desired her to ride in his
limousine, was in apprehension that her stepmother
had already put suspicion in his head, but downstairs,
as she met him waddling with the aid of Wattles to-
ward the automobile, the old gentleman appeared in an
unusually good humor. He wished her, he said, to go
with him to grandmother's, for, during the boy's visits
there, it was his habit to see him nearly every day.
Grandmother Severn lived in very comfortable style
about fifteen miles away, a vigorous old soul who, even
at eighty, bade fair to keep her interest in a life estate
upon a million for some time to come. It was to pass
to the son, Wallowell, with the bulk of the estate
which had been left to him outright.
Expecting their visit she met them with the boy, who
fell to playing with the father while Kate and the old
lady chatted by themselves.
"How are you getting along with Miriam, Kate?"
"Honors are about even between us, I fancy, though
sometimes I feel like getting on the housetop and let-
ting the world know what I think of the woman."
"Now, dear, I don't especially fancy Miriam my-
self, as you know, with all that fashionable affectation
and crazy way of running after New York and for-
eign snobs, but please do keep trying to stand the situ-
ation. You're so impetuous, Kate, dear. You were
87


88
THIEVES
the worry of your mother from the day you were born.
Once you walked a log to outdo some brat of a boy
and fell into the river and were nearly drowned. Then
you hid some little ragamuffins that the police were
after, once, hid them in the barn where they set the
place afire with cigarettes. That frightened us all to
death."
Kate laughed.
"Yes, dear, but as one grows older and looks back
on impetuosity, you find it doesn't pay. You remem-
ber, when you were about thirteen, you pulled off a
diamond ring and gave it to a beggar woman when
you didn't happen to have any money. It did no good.
The poor creature was arrested for stealing when she
tried to sell it. Then there was that time you rode
horseback twenty-five miles in an October rain just
to prove to that silly Charlie Ringer that you could
stand it."
"Well, I proved it, didn't I? And I laid him up,
the little bluffer, for a week afterwards."
"Yes, and yourself with a bad cold for three weeks.
Now, Kate, being a good deal like you when I was a
girl, I've sympathy with your disposition, but it keeps
us all uneasy. Your mother used to have all kinds
of fears, used to believe you'd run off some day to be
married."
"Run off! What for, I'd like to know! If my
father should refuse me his house, I'd have the wed-
ding on the curbstone before his door. What right
has any one—"
"To force you into a marriage? No, that's not the
question. It's the fear of your forcing yourself
through excitement or stubbornness. Marriage!


THIEVES
89
Why, of course that's the most personal right in the
world. I hope nobody will ever try to force you. I
don't mean that."
"Well, I should hope not. Are you going, father?"
Severn, having had his shins sufficiently cuffed by his
darling's heels and toes, departed with Kate, saying
that the boy might remain a few days longer.
As they returned, he decided to call on his sister,
who, being on ill terms with his wife, came to see him
but seldom. When, having stopped at the lady's
house in a less fashionable quarter, they found she
was out, he grew into a still better mood, saying,
"Your Aunt Emma bores me, but, of course, I've got
to drop in and see her once in a while. I'm glad you
go over there yourself occasionally. She gets on com-
fortably enough on that little income of hers. By the
way, I suppose you're to get that little legacy soon
that your mother left you? Shortridge says pretty
soon."
"Yes," replied Kate, "it's three or four months since
I was twenty. It seems to me they're pretty slow."
"They always are, those lawyers. It's about fifty
thousand, he says, but only about ten in cash. Crazy
to spend it?"
"Oh, I always want money, you know."
They talked on other things a while, among them
Locksport's affairs.
"Locksport and a gang of his cheated us out of
nearly half a million one time in a piece of property,"
said Severn, musing. "An infernal fraud. We had
a lawsuit about it and then he went on the stand and
swore some original paper or other was lost. I don't
like that kind of perjury."


go
THIEVES
"What kind?"
"Why, between friends. Now, in law suits between
strangers the courts have no right to make a business
man tell the truth if it's to give away business policies
or if he's fighting rivals. But this perjury of Lock-
sport's—"
"But—but you—he comes to the house."
"Business is business. If we kept objecting to ras-
cals because they cheated us, we wouldn't have any-
body to talk with, except such old idiots as Totten and
the Public Welfare League."
"But I remember, father, that one time when a head
clerk of yours stole ten thousand dollars, you put him
in the penitentiary."
"Oh, he was a bookkeeper or something like
that."
"But, father! Because Mr. Locksport is—"
"Why, he's slipped in ahead of our people here and
got control of the mayor and the police. He's a fac-
tor."
"Yes, but you say he stole money!"
"Oh, not like a clerk or a bookkeeper—simply swin-
dled us in a business deal."
A few moments passed in silence.
"What a shame they allow the parks to get filled up
this way with all the working classes on Sunday!" said
Severn.
"Whose parks are they?"
"Why, they belong to the city, of course, but who
pays for them except us people with property? We
pay the taxes, don't we? I don't begrudge the peo-
ple an airing, don't begrudge them a park to stroll in,
but there ought to be separate parks for people with


THIEVES
91
different kinds of equipment. Now just look at that
woman with the little boy there a-gaping at us!"
The old gentleman, however, was not in a bad hu-
mor, for, when the car had to stop from some inter-
ruption or other, he beckoned to a lad, who was look-
ing into the limousine from the curbstone, and handed
him a nickel.
"There, now, that will do the little fellow good,"
observed Severn. "It isn't enough to spoil him. I
like to do a little good this way once in a while, when
I can do it without encouraging pauperism."
"You always seem to think workmen discontented
and envious."
"Well, if they're anything else I never heard of it.
We've made 'em, we capitalists, we steel men, we've
made 'em in this country, and they're the most spite-
ful lot that ever appeared on this earth. Do you re-
member the time the Hudsons had that family din-
ner?"
"When Mr. Hudson gave the children a million dol-
lars apiece?" asked Kate, referring to an incident which
had been much noised about through the United States
by the Associated Press.
"Yes. Now, as everybody knows, it was kind of a
sacred and solemn evening for old man Hudson that
night. He'd made a little matter of ten or twelve
millions, not a big fortune, but a snug one, and he'd
acquired it by honest conduct, and when he was get-
ting old he thought it would be a nice thing to make
the children a handsome present on the anniversary
of his marriage, so when they were opening their nap-
kins, they found the cheques and securities there."
"Well, they got them, didn't they?"


92
THIEVES
"Yes, but I'm sure if that crowd of workmen of
his could have grabbed them, they would, the un-
natural lot! What did they do that very night just at
dinner, but send word up that they were all of them to
be out, every one of them out the next day for another
cent an hour! They took just that minute, you see,
to embitter it—just that minute to spoil the happiest
evening of his life. The Hudsons were all sore about
it—very sore about it."
"Now," continued the father, "that reminds me of
what Shortridge was just telling of a conversation he
had with this fellow Richardson down here an hour
or two ago."
Kate looked uneasily out of the window, affecting to
be interested in everything they flitted by.
"He says that this Richardson was grumbling as
usual at what he calls the unequal distribution of
wealth. 'Why,' says Shortridge, 'I see nothing un-
equal about it. The distribution's getting wider and
wider every year, and where I knew one man with
a million dollars ten years ago, I know twenty with
a million now, and what do you think?' says Short-
ridge. 'He turned on me and laughed and said this
was only like having a number of new dukes created
over his head.'"
"And what did Mr. Shortridge say by way of an-
swer, father?"
"Oh, I don't know, probably ignored it just as I
do with those people. When I was coming over on
the Kaiserin Auguste not long ago, I was forced into
a conversation in the smoking-room with some col-
lege professor who began to rant about tariff. He
began to give me the usual talk about our selling steel


94
THIEVES
"But, father! You don't intend to force me?"
"It's the first time I ever heard you object."
"I know, but I've been over several times."
"And that always makes people want to go again,
I notice, except now."
"Now, father, didn't Mrs. Severn suggest this just
to get rid of me?"
"She did not—and she'll have to go, too. I haven't
even told her yet—only made up my mind finally this
morning. If it's your stepmother's company you fear
you'll be annoyed by, you know well enough you're
never in each other's way—that you always have rooms
on different sides of the ship, and you generally have
your company and she generally has hers over on the
other side. I've got to go down to Aix-les-Bains. I
need the waters—I want to live in a white man's coun-
try. Tell Billy to turn this machine home," he con-
tinued. "I'm feeling out of humor. Here I thought
this little thing would be a pleasant surprise to you.
I thought you'd be glad."
"Well, father, I am glad, and it was very sweet of
you, but—let me think this over, won't you?"
"Think it over all you please, but just the same you
go!"
"And when?"
"Oh, in about a week. You might as well begin
to get ready now, for that matter. I thought I was
going to give you a little fun. Here, I thought you'd
squeeze my hand, maybe, and say I'd been good to you.
I never knew a man to make more sacrifices for his
family, and yet there isn't a day but some one of you
gives me a slap in the face."


THIEVES
95
"Oh, no, father, don't say that! You know it isn't
so.
"Well, it's next week. I'd abandon the whole thing
now just to annoy you, but I've made up my mind to
go and the family goes with me."
"I could stay here. I could send for Aunt Emma,
as I did when you went to the Adirondacks."
"No."
"Or old Cousin Julia."
"No."
Kate now relapsed into a silence very profound, dur-
ing which old Severn seemed to be softening a little,
for, selfish though he was, he dearly loved the girl.
"Not short of money?" he asked.
"No."
"That's a very pretty little gown you've got on to-
day."
"Yes."
"No little thing you want father to do for you?"
"No, thank you."
"Allowance big enough?"
"Oh, yes, yes."
The old man looked at her as if there must be some-
thing wrong indeed, and after a moment or two he fell
into baby words. "How would a nice, 'ittle limousine
do—nice, new 'ittle limousine for papa's baby girl, eh?
Dest a 'ittle one to its own self, eh?"
"I couldn't use it, father, if we're going away."
"Oh, buy you one over there—nice, 'ittle French
car, eh?"
"No, father, you're very good! When is it you
think you may go?"


96
THIEVES
"Next week, with his 'ittle girl."
She leaned against him in silence while the machine
sped rapidly on, until they arrived again at the Sev-
ern grounds, where, as they began to alight from the
car, he added, "Next week, remember!"


CHAPTER XIV
A FTER this unpleasant conversation with her
**■. father, Kate, as may be imagined, had need
of reflection. It was a great relief to her that she was
able to avoid him, for, her stepmother being absent
on some engagement and the old gentleman being
seized with a return of his rheumatism in an extremely
acute degree, their dining together or having conver-
sation appeared quite unnecessary. All she saw of
him further was at his door, where she went to say
good night.
Agreeably to the turn of human nature, her first
suggestion was that this trip to Europe was an idea
of her stepmother's, invented for no other purpose
than to send her abroad while Mrs. Severn would
remain there as little as possible disturbed in that flir-
tation with Charles Shortridge, a relation indeed which
Kate could not fairly yet acknowledge even to herself,
but which she was not able to put altogether out of her
mind. However, she was disposed to confess it
a very improbable circumstance that her stepmother
had suggested the voyage because, in the event of their
going abroad, it was almost certain that this lady her-
self would have to go too. Was it possible, then,
that her father, having heard of this acquaintance
with Richardson, had resolved on the journey him-
self to take her out of town?
This, also, appeared altogether impossible, for if
97


98
THIEVES
even a breath of that acquaintance had come to the
ears of her father, he would certainly be by this time in
an uncontrollable rage. Diplomacy was no part of
his character, the less so in this instance as nothing
could more completely outrage every prejudice that
he had had from birth than her forming the least de-
gree of friendship for people connected with his work-
men. Such an intimacy he would, in fact, regard
pretty much as a Southern planter would look upon his
daughter's coquetting with a negro. From his own
father he had imbibed most violent prejudices against
the laboring class, nor from infancy could she recall
anything more bitter than his denunciation of
what he called their lawless and unfair methods and
their intention to get what belonged to him. Their igno-
rance and their very poverty were matters of contempt
in his eyes. It was accordingly as clear as anything
could be that, if the least breath of her acquaintance
with Richardson had been communicated to him, the
house would by this time be in turmoil.
These thoughts she meditated with considerable
feeling, not omitting from time to time to take a glance
from her window in the direction of the cottage in
which, as night drew on, a light could be seen from
one of the windows. About its interior she had as
much curiosity as a beggar to see the inside of a palace.
Entirely captured by her love she had not made, like
Richardson, any effort to restrain it, for when had her
nature ever been taught to deny itself anything?
Though indulgence had not spoiled, discipline had not
regulated her character, and she had yet to experience
either deep self-denial or acute disappointment.
Her natural temper, therefore, inclined her to resist


THIEVES
99
what was disagreeable. This journey to Europe, it
was clear, could be avoided if she were ready to make
a desperate stand against it, and so long as her father
was not suspicious of her motive in remaining at home,
she felt sanguine that she could carry her point against
him. Let him be off to Europe, then, with her step-
mother, and what immeasurable happiness would be
hers! Under the chaperonage of an aunt, she would
have the mansion practically to herself and, let the
worst come of it, there would be one who would
be sure to enter. The more she thought of this, the
more she was pleased with it. Nothing, in point of
fact, could appear more sensible and more reasonable.
Ignoring the injunctions that her father had already
given her to make ready, she would say nothing more
on the subject until he himself should bring it up,
upon which disagreeable event she would call out
her strongest forces to meet the enemy. The only
thing that troubled her was that her stepmother might
in the meantime drop an inkling in his ear of what was
persuading her to remain at home.
She now gave herself up to thoughts of the pleas-
ant expedition she would make to-morrow by the side
of that noble fellow of whom the very recollection
brought blushes to her face, and these delightful
thoughts imparted at last contentment to her heart and
to her mind repose.


CHAPTER XV
ET no man imagine that he has secrets from his
servants. Clues too faint to be noticed in the
boudoir are circumstances of infinite importance in
the kitchen, where winks or nods or stammers or hesi-
tations observed upstairs this week are added to frowns
or sighs or looks of the week before. Nor had the
loquacious Mrs. McFadden and the lively Nora been
as circumspect concerning Kate and Richardson as they
were loyal to her, so it was not long before the situa-
tion became known to the other flunkies, including Mr.
Wattles, who vowed he had suspected it these three
months past.
To this person such an acquaintance formed by Kate
was a mark of low taste, and, as he bore neither her
nor her followers in the household any good will, he
was of a mind to make the most of it, being certain
that, should it come to her father's ears, her influence
with him would be greatly reduced. He would then
have a triumph in the expulsion of Nora, whom he
hated in the degree in which the Devil is supposed to
hate holy water.
This very Monday morning, encountering her as
she waited for Kate's breakfast in the pantry, he ex-
changed with her such civilities as may be imagined,
until, the repartee reaching a point where comparisons
were made between the importance and dignity of their
respective superiors, he could not refrain from drop-


THIEVES
101
ping a hint that, thank God, the lady of the house was
not in the habit of making certain acquaintances a
hundred yards away like some other people who need
not be mentioned.
"Mr. Wattles, I'll be having ye understand that I've
no use for anybody in your part of the house, an' ye
must be havin' a very poor opinion of me, Mr. Wat-
tles, if ye think I'm the kind of a girl to sit down
here in silence an' hear ye make the insinooations that
ye've done."
"Hi've made no insinuations at all. Hi'm not in
the 'abit of making hinsinuations."
"Wellj you may call them what ye like, insinooations
or not, but it seems to me they're slaps in the face, an'
I'll have ye understand it's in my opinion, seriously
speakin', sir, none of your business if Miss Kate should
take a fancy to the man in the moon."
"Hi'm sure Hi 'aven't the time to hargue with
you."
"No, nor it's me that hasn't the time to argue with
you either, Mr. Wattles, if that's your name, for I
don't know where ye came from—I never heard of ye
before ye turned up in this house—an' I suppose that
all ye've been sayin' here an' intimatin' an' hintin'
about, ye've gotten from that pie-faced trollop of a
Frinch maid upstairs."
"Ho, Hi think Hi've heyes and hears of my own,
and Hi 'ave only to say that when Hi worked for the
Duke of Portland hin the hold country, and a pre-
sumptuous farmer's son 'ard by 'eppened to make some
hadvances toward one of the young ladies who was
pleased to tolerate him for a minute or two, or maybe
a day, 'is Grace saw to it that the fellow 'ad a good


102
THIEVES
flogging from one of 'is men, which Hi assure you
settled it very quickly. Hi believe this is your mis-
tress's breakfast, so Hi'll not be detainin' you."
"No, nor it wouldn't be safe for the likes o' you to
be detainin' me this mornin', Mr. Wattles. What
your opinion is of me, sir, I nayther know nor care.
But me own's jist the same of you."
With this Nora betook herself upstairs bearing the
breakfast, for it was now half-past eight and her mis-
tress had called for it.
It is sometimes a peculiarity of morning to give to
the reflections of the night before a rather dubious
cast, and Kate, now that she was about to pass the
forenoon with a man against whom her father must
have the most determined hostility, found it necessary
to fortify her mind. She had been prepared for some
time to make reasonable excuses if confronted by his
reproaches regarding the mere conversations in the
pagoda, an event undoubtedly irritating to him when
revealed, but such as could be overlooked after a pass-
ing outburst of ill humor. This excursion about town
was, however, of a different sort, and if that also
should become known, she must face the greatest rage
that she had probably ever seen in her parent and
probably his enduring resentment.
But she was not wanting in sources of courage.
What sort of character had this father displayed in
their ride the day before? What example had he been
setting her of moral and upright conduct, this father
who could tell of hounding a poor offender into prison,
while he would not refuse to take to his very table a
man whom he charged with robbing him? What
maxims of high and honorable conduct had she ever


THIEVES
103
heard from his lips? What had she ever heard from
him except worldly pretense and schemes of social and
business advancement?
Reasoning in this way, she began to wonder how
her father came by so much virtue that he should
be in a position to denounce a good man like Rich-
ardson and to be in a fury with her if she had
anything to do with such a person. As for her
stepmother, let her betray if she would so innocent
■ an acquaintance. Let her tell Severn this harmless
story, harmless to any one but Severn himself, and
perhaps she, Kate, might retaliate in kind, a disagree-
able result, which she did not willingly plan to bring
about, but one which at any rate she was privileged to
use in her course of self-defense. This last reflection,
however, gave her no happiness. She was yet too
fond of her father to suggest anything that could
make him unhappy with his wife; and since,
being a pure-minded girl, she could not believe that
there was anything serious in the possible flirtation be-
tween her stepmother and Shortridge and could not,
in fact, bring herself to believe that it even amounted
to a flirtation, she finally concluded it would be more
womanly in her to keep her peace on this somewhat
dangerous topic.
Another and peculiar source of embarrassment to
her was her future relations with Richardson himself,
whom she could not invite to her house, and yet to
whom she owed in that respect some explanation.
He would not, perhaps, ask the privilege of visiting
her home, but he might well expect an invitation.
These things, though, did not long trouble her mind,
which rose rapidly to the spirit of the occasion; so


104
THIEVES
after her coffee, she ordered without delay her auto-
mobile.
It was somewhat earlier than his fair neighbor that
John Richardson also arose that Monday morning, nor
was he less troubled than she with doubts about the
curious and delightful acquaintance into which he was
drifting. Dressing more slowly than usual, he would
from time to time cast a glance across the hedge in
the hope that he might see a certain fair figure moving
on the lawn. Then he came down to his porch
to seek the morning newspaper while his mother be-
stirred herself with the servant to prepare his break-
fast.
The first thing that caught his eye in the newspaper
was something relating to himself, for what should
he behold in a prominent column but the words in black
letters, "Will Probably Move to Town"; and then,
"Young Statesman selling out to Neighbor Severn,"
after which followed the usual newspaper account of
negotiations between the popular leader and the rich
aristocrat. This bit of news, having no truth in it to
begin with beyond the bare facts that have already
been narrated, struck him at once as something which
even the curious public would not have much interest
in and which had probably been communicated for a
purpose. His brother Tom indeed might possibly
have mentioned it, but this he regarded as improbable.
If, as Saint Augustine confessed, the daily furnace in
which we are to be tried is the tongue of men, what
must the poor old martyr have thought of modern
journalism?
"You don't seem quite so happy as you used to be,
John," said the mother, as they sat down to the meal;


THIEVES
"or rather, you seem to be very happy some hours and
then again very down in your spirits."
"Well, with all this trouble of Tom's sickness on my
mind, mother, you can see that I've reason to be wor-
ried."
"Yes," replied she, "and if we could only get him
to Colorado—"
"I've been thinking of it, mother, again and again,
ever since we first talked it over, and I'm afraid it's a
large bit of expense; still, it can be done."
"I'm afraid he wouldn't go at the last minute, John."
"Yes, I think we could get him there if I'd go with
him for awhile; then he might stay."
"God knows if he doesn't I don't know what will
become of him!"
"If he doesn't, I'm afraid, mother, we do know what
will become of him!"
"Yes, yes, but I've such hopes, John, of that climate
out there."
"Dr. MacGregor said that he was not too far gone,
mother, and there's only one thing for us to do—we've
got to send him there, got to take him there if neces-
sary, got to gell this house if we can't do anything
else."
The poor woman looked unhappily around the walls
and out into the garden.
"But," continued John, "I don't think that will be
necessary, mother."
"I'm afraid, John, we've been living a bit extrava-
gantly of late."
"Perhaps I have, mother. That new dress suit of
mine could have been put off for awhile, I'm afraid."
"No, not you, John. It's here in the house; we've


1o6
THIEVES
been living more extravagantly on the table than we
used to do. Chicken twice last week, John, and there's
no need of that."
"Oh, that doesn't amount to much."
"Well, all these little things count, John."
"Maybe so, maybe so, but I don't think they amount
to much."
"And I really think, John, I could do this little work
here in the house myself, with the aid of old Tim
around the garden to do the chores."
"Hold on, mother! Not that!"
"Well, but it's my duty, John, when we're trying to
save the boy; and the price of everything has gone up
so. Meat is so much dearer, every kind of food is
dearer. I was hoping that this new place you're in
would make things much easier, but I see there's a lot
of expenses about it for the present, especially now
when there's a political fight on."
There was silence for a moment, after which she
continued:
"What mountains of money they must have next
door to support all that magnificence. Sometimes I
wonder where it all comes from."
"You might add, 'whom it all comes from,' " he ob-
served with a smile, and then coloring slightly he arose
saying, "It's time to be off to town, mother, so here's
good-by."


CHAPTER XVI
COME adventures in life are never forgotten,
^ though we live to the age of Methuselah, and this
surely was such to Kate Severn. Arriving at Home's
before the appointed hour, she busied herself buying
things that she did not want and pretending to examine
things she never had cared for, her heart all the time
beating rapidly and the accustomed color on her cheek
being very much deepened. In fact, she could not
avoid looking around from time to time as if some-
body must be watching her, and when one of her
friends, also shopping, happened to fall in with her,
she gave more excuses in a moment for separating
from her than she could have explained in a week.
It was eleven at last. She went to the principal por-
tal and grew rosy red, for there stood Richardson.
"I've been waiting here, I think, four or five min-
utes."
"You know, I was busy inside. I had a number of
things to attend to."
"Oh, no trouble to wait! You haven't repented of
your little enterprise?"
"Not a bit. I've dismissed my automobile. A long
walk?"
"I didn't know that you'd care to walk."
"Better try me and see," she cried.
"All right. This is not too fast, is it?"
"Oh, no. I'm rather athletic, you know."
107


1o8
THIEVES
"Yes, I've noticed that."
"Noticed it? Where?"
"I used to see you early in the summer before we
got acquainted—used to see you on the lawn over in
the tennis-court."
"In the tennis-court? Could you see so well from
your house?"
"Yes. It's over at the other side of your place, of
course, pretty far away, but still I see it."
"How funny! And I didn't see you!"
"Yes, and I used to see you practicing archery."
"In my archery costume, too? I suppose I looked
horrid in that."
"I thought it very becoming, Miss Severn."
"Of course you have to say that. It seems queer,
you know, after you've become acquainted with a per-
son to find they've been knowing you for sometime
when you weren't aware of it. How well our steps go
together, don't they?"
"Yes."
"You know some people have the greatest difficulty
walking together, Mr. Richardson."
"Yes, and such a fine day for walking. Cloudy."
"Cloudy? Somehow I didn't notice that it's cloudy.
It seemed perfectly clear. By the way, where is your
room in your—your cottage?"
"Well, I'm not sorry to say it's on the side next to
your house."
"How pleasant! My room's on your side, too, you
know, right over the lawn towards the hedge. Such a
wide lawn, isn't it?"
"It's a little too wide sometimes, I think," he said,


THIEVES 109
and then he colored, while she looked away herself
in a little embarrassment.
"You know," she resumed, "I'm—I'm so pleased
that you've taken Turgot as a sort of model, or at
least have made his life something of an object in your
own. I always was so fond of his life," and this she
remarked with as much ease as if she had had the
life of Turgot in her lap from childhood.
"Oh, mercy!" she exclaimed, before he could reply,
"I've dropped my purse. Thank you for picking it
up. I don't like to lose two thousand dollars."
"Two thousand dollars! Do you carry any such
sum?"
"Oh, dear, no! That's the purse itself, you know."
"What?"
"The purse. That's what it cost. It does seem
terrible, doesn't it!"
"Two thousand dollars for a purse, Miss Severn?"
"Why, yes! Some of the girls have them that cost
three thousand dollars."
John, looking at her in wonder, reflected that there
had indeed arisen in this country a class of whom the
multitude in one sense know nothing and whose mag-
nificence is beyond estimate. They were soon in the
poor quarter.
"Mercy, what a street!" exclaimed Kate.
"There are plenty worse."
"And what do they do with their wages that they
live this way?"
"They can't save. Rents even here are high. A
vile street this!"
They had reached a quarter more filthy than any be-


110
THIEVES
fore. Ragged urchins and idle women stared at them
from the doors and windows of vile wooden houses.
The street, filthy and disordered, sent up disgusting
smells.
"The city officials care nothing for streets like these,"
John observed.
This was a very unfortunate time to make this re-
mark, for, just as he uttered it, her eye happened to
look upon a lamp post, upon which was hung in very
dirty letters, "Severn's Row." Kate fell to blushing
furiously. She was convinced, though, that he had
not led her to the place by design, the more so as he
now stopped to ask a woman what the direction was to
a certain street beyond, and this engaging them in some
talk with the creature, Kate began to ask her ques-
tions.
"How did your little girl lose her hand?"
"Oh, a helpin' one of the boys at the scrap-heap a
loadin' the stuff into one of them cars."
"And what caused her to lose her hand?"
"It was blood poisoning," said the little girl herself,
at the same time hiding her arm behind her back.
"So the doctor said that ampitated her," added the
mother. "It was lucky, he said, she didn't lose her
whole arm, and maybe I'd have lost me child entirely
if we'd lost another day."
"And your husband?" inquired Kate.
"Och, don't be askin' me."
"You've lost him?"
"Blind."
"Blind?"
"Stone blind, and me workin' me poor old hands off
to support him. But he's not gone to the poorhouse


THIEVES
1n
yet and, God please me, he'll not go there as long as
me head's hot."
"And didn't the mill give you anything?"
"Oh, I suppose they were fair enough," responded
the woman, "fair enough accordin' to their notions,
mum. We got two hundred and fifty dollars, bein'
fifty higher than my lawyer told me'd ever been given
before in a case like that. Sure, it's a beautiful swate-
heart ye have, sir!"
Kate blushed scarlet.
"There's the old man now a-sittin' there, a-sittin'
at the door—you see him inside, just inside the door.
Now here, run away, you little Mulligan boys, and
you, Casey, stop a-starin' at the lady that way. Run
on with ye!"
"Can I give her anything?" Kate whispered to Rich-
ardson.
"You might hand it to the little girl."
The child stared in wonder when she found in her
hand a whole dollar, looking meanwhile at Kate as if
she beheld an angel.
"Sure, mum, you're straight from Heaven itself!"
exclaimed the mother. "God knows I had a dream
last night. 'Dan,' says I, 'we'll be hungry again to-
day.'"
"And what," inquired Richardson, "what was your
husband's occupation?"
"What did he do in the mills, the old man? Sure,
and he worked at the open hearth, one of the best men
in the service at that. None of them could beat
my Danny. Sure, ye're very kind. I hope ye can see,
mum, that we've seen better days than these—and God
knows I never expected to be livin' in Severn's Row."


112
THIEVES
"Come," said John, "suppose we move on, Miss Sev-
ern," adding her name, however, under his breath so
that it was not heard by the woman, while as they
moved away he added, "I really did not know, Miss
Severn, that we were in a street that bore your family
name. Most of the names of these streets are un-
known. I feel very guilty about it."
"You needn't," answered Kate, "for if father has
property and working people like this, I'm very grate-
ful to you for letting me know it. It's terrible!"
The girl was serious now. "Why don't they have
to provide for these injured people?"
"They do in every civilized country under the sun
except ours. Here the poor workman must go to law
to prove that he wasn't at fault. A lawsuit's a law-
suit. The poor can't wait."
"It's a wicked law, then. You don't know what it
is to have the tremendous luxury of one's own life
suddenly brought before one in this way. Why, it's
awful!"
Thus they strolled on, the girl exulting in his com-
pany and taking through the mere influence of love
every opinion that he uttered, for natures impetuous
and ardent when they yield at all, commonly make a
complete surrender. The queer denizens of the street
gazed at them sometimes in silence and sometimes with
contempt, adding from time to time through the mouth
of a jealous or impudent boy a jeering compliment
to the lady's finery. But nothing could exceed the
good nature of Kate or the interest that she took in
everything around her. At last they decided to return
and in a street car.
"It's very droll in here, isn't it?" said Kate.


THIEVES
"3
"Just like any other car."
"I suppose so. But the fact is, I haven't been in a
street car since I was a child."
"What! It seems as if one had to use street cars."
"No, not if you have half a dozen or eight automo-
biles. I've heard my stepmother boast that her child
should never set foot in a street car. Who was that
man that just spoke to you, Mr. Richardson?"
"The one that just went out? A man named Dick-
son, a labor leader."
"He gave me a very intent look," said Kate. Then
they fell to laughing at they knew not what, neither
of them willing to lose a moment of the pleasure that
even this ride was affording or stopping to think how
much longer all this pleasant company could be possi-
ble, and when at last they parted down town it was
agreed that he should meet her the next day. She
was to have, she said, a company of friends on the
lawn in the afternoon and after the ladies' departure
she would not go back to the house till six o'clock.
Promising to be there, he gave her a look which but
poorly concealed the feelings within him, nor was it
ill exchanged for the fond, the lingering glance which
she gave him in return.
Kate now hurried home, happy indeed, but not
without a feeling that she had crossed the Rubicon.


CHAPTER XVII
DICHARDSON having gotten a few bites of
luncheon hurried to his office from which he had
been absent since ten. A happy man, he was ap-
proaching the door and glad to pat on the head little
Eddie Jones, who was on duty in the outer hall.
"Limping to-day, Eddie? What's wrong?"
"Oh, yesterday being Sunday, me an' some of the
boys went in swimmin' and a lot of them South Side
kids they tried to run off wit our does and Hennie
Meyers and me—"
"Just chased them in your bare feet—"
"Sure, what else or go home naked, and I tore a
hole in me foot with a nail and it kep' me awake mos'
the night and—"
"And you fell asleep with a piece of wood between
your teeth for fear of lockjaw, eh?" The boy looked
foolish.
"I was readin' about lockjaw the other day in the
Gazette's Sunday Magazine—"
"Here's a dime, Eddie. You'll have no lockjaw.
Mr. Simmons or Mr. Jones back yet from luncheon?"
"Yes, sir—in now."
The Commonwealth Attorney's office that morning
was in the state of confusion in which we usually
find municipal offices in America. In the main hall
sat a number of poorly dressed people come from the
ranks of poverty and vice. Now and then a clerk
114


THIEVES
would pass in a languid manner to find another clerk
with whose neglect of something he could find fault.
Through doors ajar you could see learned gentlemen
with their feet on desks or chairs, smoking wisely be-
side disordered tables and, as from time to time some
visitor made inquiry, you felt at once that his coming
was taken in ill part, and that he ought to know better
than to trouble the underpaid servants of the public.
"Mr. Jones," said Eddie, entering one of the inner
rooms, "here's a woman out here won't go till she
sees you. Can't put her off."
"What does she want?"
"Says her husband beats the face off her every night.
Wants him arrested."
"Didn't I tell you not to bother me with things like
that?"
"Can't help it, Mr. Jones—says she'll stay here."
"Well, she'll not. I'll have her thrown out if she
talks that way in this office. Don't you know enough
to take her to Mr. Johnson? He takes care of cases
like that. Get out and stop bothering me. Oh, how
d'ye do, Simmons?" One of his associates had en-
tered the room.
"What about that Dago murder case to-morrow?"
asked Simmons.
"Don't ask me."
"Well, I'm not to try it, am I?"
"Get it put off."
"It's been put off half a dozen times," answered
Simmons. "Defendant says he'll move for dismissal
now. Been in jeopardy too long. Court'll probably
dismiss it, too."
"Know anything about any of the witnesses?"


n6
THIEVES
"No. Why should I? Does this office expect me
to attend to everything?"
At this moment a policeman entered, insisting upon
a moment's interview and explaining that he held two
Chinamen who had been caught gambling and whom he
would take back to jail if the prosecutors so advised.
Permitted to bring them in, he described the situation
in which they were discovered, narrating with various
honest oaths that they had been nabbed in a bakery
with much appearance of guilt, though without any of
the implements of gambling.
"What were you doing there?" asked Simmons of
one of the Chinamen.
"Me make noodles."
"Huh! And what were you doing, little Pigtail?"
he asked of the other.
"Me eat noodles."
"Liars, both of you on the face of it," observed
Simmons.
"Off with them both," added Jones. "We've got
to stop gambling in this town. The newspapers are
demanding it. Just take 'em off and lock 'em up
again," upon which injunction the officer disappeared
with his captives while Simmons added: "This town
can't stand that sort of thing. What is it, Johnson?"
Mr. Johnson, one of the junior prosecutors, now
announced that Tony Maguire of the first ward was
complaining that his games had been meddled with
lately by the police.
"Tony," continued Johnson, "supported this office
last campaign down the line and wants to know what
this means."
"Say, that won't do!" exclaimed Jones. "You just


THIEVES
117
let him know at once, Johnson, that we'll attend to that.
Tony's all right."
"Well, what about this Dago murder case, I say?"
asked Simmons.
"Let's make the great orator try it," answered Jones.
"Great orator! I wish I were as wise as that fel-
low looks! Give me a cigarette."
"The way that fellow Richardson hypnotizes this
town makes me tired. But just wait a minute—here
he is. Been out to lunch, Richardson?"
"Yes, I've just had a bite."
"We want you to try the Crevelli murder case to-
morrow afternoon."
"All right, but not quite so suddenly as that. If you
can put it off three or four days—"
"Oh, I guess you can get a short continuance."
"I can attend to it, then. I'm sorry Mr. Hagan's
absent."
"Yes, had to leave town of a sudden. Doesn't leave
any address."
"Tired out!" said Simmons.
"Yes—tried a whole case last year," added Jones,
with a laugh.
"Gentleman out here to see you, Mr. Richardson,"
an office boy announced.
Proceeding to his own room, Richardson found
three or four labor leaders, among whom Dickson was
most prominent.
"You know all these boys, I believe," said Dickson.
"Yes, I think every one of them. Oh, yes, yes!"
"Fine weather we're having."
"Couldn't be better," replied John.
"I saw you in the car this morning, by the way."


118
THIEVES
"Oh, yes!" answered John. Dickson hesitated a
moment and then said:
"The boys feel they're going to get fair play now
you're in this office, Mr. Richardson."
"They surely shall," replied John, "though I hope
they've always been getting fair play here, for that
matter."
"Oh, we've nothing to say about that, but we do
say we're relying on you a little specially."
"I'm glad you feel that I shall do my duty, gentle-
men."
"Dickson puts it right," said one of the others,
"when he says we're relying on you a little specially."
"And what is it that's to be particularly talked of
this morning?"
"Maybe you know, Mr. Richardson, and maybe you
don't, that this Locksport business is going to come to
a head," replied Dickson.
"Yes, and cursed soon," added another.
"Yes? Well, what do you suggest?"
"Why, we want that man Locksport arrested.
That's the first thing."
"And it ain't going to stop there, either," remarked
another.
"No, we've got some one else in mind."
"Never mind about that now," observed Dickson.
"This is business enough for the present. What about
it, Mr. Richardson?"
"Several things," replied Richardson. "Arresting a
millionaire's no joke. He'll stand on all his rights
with the best lawyers in town. You say, of course,
this man's president of the company, must know all
about the situation, must be giving the orders and all


THIEVES
119
that, but when it comes to proof in a criminal case, you
have to be certain. Now, Locksport's one day in New
York, another in Philadelphia, a third in Chicago or
Cleveland. He hasn't a particle of principle, and will
swear in a minute that his manager's been running
everything. He'll admit, probably, that he knew the
works were surrounded by guards, but he'll swear this,
he supposed, was to protect the men inside, not to keep
them there. Add to this that I'm a new man here,
must go slow and—"
"We may as well be frank with you, Mr. Rich-
ardson, we don't trust that man Hagan," said Dickson.
John colored a little, for he was loyal to the man
who had appointed him, saying, "I think you do Mr.
Hagan an injustice, gentlemen."
"No matter for that. He's away, anyway, and
you're the man to act."
"I'll do my duty, gentlemen."
"That's the way to talk, Mr. Richardson."
Richardson then proceeded to tell them the kind of
evidence he would want, assigning at the same time a
young man, whom he called, to put the matter in
legal form, after which he himself would pass upon
it and give it such corrections as he might think were
required. The whole thing, he added, could be put in
motion by the day after to-morrow.
"Not till day after to-morrow?" asked one of the
men.
"That's pretty long," added Dickson, and it was not
till after some talk that they were satisfied that the
delay was not unreasonable. When they had at length
spoken their fill, they passed out of the office, and as
they were about to descend the stairs, the chief in im-


120
THIEVES
portance among them next to Dickson remarked to
that gentleman, "I think you might just as well have
given him a dig about Severn as not."
"Leave that to me," replied Dickson. "I don't
know whether that was Severn's girl he was with this
morning or not. There are ten thousand girls in this
town the man might be with, and I'm sorry I men-
tioned it to you."
"Well, it's mighty funny anyway, especially after
what the paper said this morning about his selling out
to Severn. You can bet that he's getting more than
that place is worth—not that I mean he's dishonest or
anything of that kind, because I'd trust Richardson
just as much as any of you, but it's human nature to
take more than a thing's worth if it's offered to you."
"Well, we'll not talk any more about it," replied
Dickson. "He says he's going to do his duty and
that's all we want."
It was only a few moments later that Richardson
himself went out of the building, for it was now
approaching three o'clock and he had entirely forgot-
ten the payments due upon his mortgage, either of in-
terest or of principal, relying upon his talk a few
days previous with Edwards of the Mechanics' Na-
tional Bank. He betook himself to that place of busi-
ness, where he was fortunate to find the financier at
once. Mr. Edwards had that kind of banking counte-
nance that can with equal sweetness invite a deposit
or reject a loan.
"Oh, that mortgage? Why, yes, yes, I had for-
gotten. No, you can't pay it here, Richardson. The
fact is, we sold the thing the other day."


THIEVES
121
"It was only the other day that I was talking about
it to you," said Richardson.
"Yes, yes, I know—but the examiner, who hap-
pened to be in here afterwards, took exception to our
carrying that kind of fixed loan—National banks can't
do it, you know—they can't loan on real estate, and
while we do it, we don't think it's right to do it after
it's complained of. I—I never like to vary from the
law at all if there's going to be a fuss made about it, so
just as soon as the examiner said he'd rather have us
dispose of that thing, I sold it over here to the Smoky
City."
"Smoky City Trust Company?"
"Yes, Smoky City Trust Company. I wouldn't be
in such a hurry, though, if I were you. Anybody will
be delighted to carry that thing as long as they can.
Perfect security."
After a few commonplaces, John made his way to
the office of the Trust Company which was about
to close its doors for the day. A clerk with a pen be-
hind each ear, though he was the proper person to an-
swer the question, was quite nonplussed to recall any-
thing, being obliged to call another gentleman to his
assistance.
"Oh, yes, I remember now," said one of them.
"Yes, I think we got that in the other day. What
about it, Mr. Richardson?"
"I want to pay my interest or see what else you want
done about it. This is the day it matures, and Mr.
Edwards of the Mechanics' National before he sold it
told me it would be all right to let it go on with the
mere payment of interest."


122
THIEVES
"Oh, yes, I see!"
"Well, will you look it up now?"
"No hurry about it at all, Mr. Richardson."
"That's very kind of you," replied Richardson, "but
I think I'd rather know to-night just how I stand."
"Oh, that's all right. Don't you worry your head
a minute about that. If it wasn't a good loan we
wouldn't have bought it, and if it's a good one, we
don't care how long it carries."
"Well," continued Richardson, "I don't care to be
insistent about this thing, but at the same time it's
just a matter of business to attend to it, ,so I'll draw
my check here for the interest," saying which he took
out a small check book and drew for the proper
amount. When he tendered it, however, the young
man blandly objected.
"Sorry, Mr. Richardson, but the check isn't cer-
tified and of course I'd have to have it certified—just
a rule of the bank, you know, don't amount to any-
thing, but then I have no authority to violate it."
"But it's after three o'clock now," argued John.
"Oh, well, let the whole thing stand over till to-
morrow. No use to worry about it."
"Well, for that matter, I'll just leave the check here
with you."
"All right. Just leave it here and we'll put it in
with to-morrow's business. Fine day, isn't it?"
"Yes. Good morning," said John, as he passed out
of the door, "and I'll come in to-morrow and see
whether you wish the principal taken up and how
soon."


CHAPTER XVIII
EVERYBODY owes at least one of his virtues to
his dislike of some one else. Kate Severn, the
more she reflected upon the good qualities of John
Richardson, became the more willing to applaud them
because she knew them to be despised by her step-
mother and Shortridge. Even more was her honest
nature inflamed by what she had seen in the hovels of
her father's workmen. In defense of Richardson as
well as in the cause of justice and mercy she recalled
with contempt all she had been listening to during the
greater part of her lifetime concerning the rights of
capital and the unreasonableness of the lowly.
She was, in truth, a type of which we have reason
to be proud in American women. The general free-
dom of our democracy, while it takes from our girls a
pleasing diffidence, gives them in compensation an
enterprising spirit, a self-reliance in emergencies and a
discernment of character that makes us millions of
happy homes. They may appear a little forward to
the damsels of the Faubourg Saint Germain or even to
the young women who play golf in Kent and Sussex,
but they are well adapted to the men with whom they
have to live, to the race of which they are a part, and
to the customs of our people. Well may they boast,
moreover, that almost universally their flirtations end
with the betrothal ring, their coquetries at the altar.
That afternoon, receiving word that her father de-
123


124
THIEVES
sired her in his room, she came to him in wonder as to
what was next to happen.
His intention to take her abroad adding so great
an obstacle to her love, she was in no pleasant mind,
nor was he in a better as he perused in the evening
paper an account of an accident at his mills and de-
clared that he should have on his hands another batch
of settlements.
"I didn't know they cost you much," said she.
"Oh, it doesn't cost much, doesn't it! If you had
to pay the bills instead of talking about them, you'd
think they were dear enough."
"Well, what does it cost, father?"
"Why, how should I know? I don't attend to such
things."
"But who takes care of them when they're hurt?"
"Why, that's their matter. Their friends and. neigh-
bors and relatives, I suppose. We're not running a
hospital. We're no insurance company. Do these
people want everything? Don't they intend to leave
anything to me? Why, it's all I can do to live. It
costs me six hundred thousand a year, yes, six hun-
dred thousand a year just to live. They never take
that into consideration. Oh, no! not that crowd!"
"But what do the injured men do?"
"What they've always done, I suppose. It's a risk
of the business. They know it before they go into
it."
"But just to think, father, of having one's legs cut
off—"
"Of course it's bad, nobody denies that, but I tell
you it's a risk of the business, and as for their feeling
so terrible about it, while of course it's bad enough,


THIEVES
125
yet you don't want to look at it from our point of view.
They do feel bad about it, but they don't feel as a man
like me would feel."
"What?"
"I don't mean to be unkind when I say it, but a man
who works in a mill all his life and is covered with
dirt and grime, hasn't the same dignity to lose when
his legs are cut off as a man like me. I'm sorry for
them, of course I'm sorry, but there's no use of ex-
aggerating. There's all sorts of sentimental twaddle
about these things all the time. Take this matter of
an eight-hour day. I hope I'll never live to see the
day when any man works less than ten or twelve
hours. They're never happy when they do. They
simply get drunk or idle their time away."
By this time they were joined by Mrs. Severn who,
hearing the latter part of these remarks, heartily co-
incided, adding that nice people now-a-days could
hardly go out of doors on Sunday because of the com-
mon people.
"Yes," continued Severn, "I wonder if we're not
morally responsible for shortening their work hours
and letting them out of doors this way."
"It seems to me," said Kate, "that it's generally the
ignorant foreigners that we bring—"
"Absurd!" exclaimed Mrs. Severn.
"Yes, infernal nonsense," added Severn. "You've
been reading some of these muck-raking magazines.
If another one of the cursed things comes in here, I'll
have it thrown out!"
Fuming over this, he had limped to the window,
where the sight of Richardson's house gave him further
irritation.


126
THIEVES
"That's the way fellows like this Richardson talk,"
he continued. "He's a nice one, isn't he? Sounds
fine to hear him talk about Sunday outings and airings
for the poor! I don't suppose the fellow takes a bath
once a year himself."
The effect of this on Kate may easily be im-
agined, as the stepmother was but poorly concealing
her mirth behind a newspaper; nor was her anger any
the less because she had to hide it. Affecting to smile,
she at the same time made an impatient movement of
the hand which showed that she was very dissatisfied
with her father's doctrine.
"I don't know where in the world you come by any
of these ideas of yours," the father went on.
"Don't know, I'm sure."
"God knows I've done nothing to put such ideas into
your head."
"No, I'm sure you've not."
"It's from your mother," he said, "that's the only
way to account for it. She always had that infernal
democratic streak in her."
"What's that you say about my mother?" exclaimed
Kate, delighted to give vent to her wrath under
so plausible a cause. "Don't you talk that way about
my mother! Don't you say another word about her!
How dare you talk that way about my mother, calling
her a democrat and all that! How dare you talk that
way about my mother?"
"Hoity-toity!"
"I'll never let anybody use that language about my
mother."
"Your mother! Well, if she's your mother she was
my wife, wasn't she?"


THIEVES
127
"Your wife? No. How can she be your wife?
You've got another."
"Now, Wallowell!" exclaimed Mrs. Severn, "you
see—
"Just leave her to me," replied the husband. "She'll
be on the Atlantic Ocean within ten days, if my head's
hot."
Kate in the meantime had taken her seat and was
saying nothing.
"To Europe?" asked Mrs. Severn.
"Yes, and within ten days or two weeks at the most.
Do you hear that?"
"While it's none of my business, I take the liberty
of commending it," added Mrs. Severn, but Kate had
still nothing to say as she looked with defiant uncon-
cern out of the window.
"I may be permitted to say, Kate," went on Mrs.
Severn, "that this does seem to be a time when, your
father intending to send you abroad, I may heartily
concur in it. When did you resolve on this, Wallo-
well?"
"Well, I only told her yesterday, but I've been think-
ing about it for a week—and it's settled, I can tell
you that now," at which intelligence the face of his
wife was a cheerful sight to see and undoubtedly added
to the graces of this sweet family.
"I can be ready inside of a week myself," said Sev-
ern, "if this infernal strike business doesn't tie us up
further, and I don't think it will."
"You will take her yourself?"
"I'll not trust her to go alone, that's sure."
"How long will you be over there, Wallowell?"
"How do I know? You'll probably want to stay


128
THIEVES
there yourself half a year—you always do, as long
as there's anything new to buy."
"Me?"
"Yes, you! Who else?"
"You expect me to go too?"
"What's the matter with you? Do you think I'd be
leaving you here? Why should I leave you here?"
"I thought you just wanted to take her over your-
self—see her there and come back."
"Well, I didn't! I expect you to go too. Have you
any objections?"
"No. Who—who—who—suggested this?"
"I did myself. You don't seem to be pleased."
"Haven't the slightest objection to going, I'm sure,
but as the object was—at least I thought it was—to
keep your daughter and me somewhat divided, I im-
agined and think now it would be just as well, if it's
all the same to her, that she go over alone or you
go with her, coming back, of course, as soon as you
can."
"Oh, I'm in no more of a hurry to go than you are,
for that matter," said Kate at last, to which the other
lady perceiving in this some allusion to her own affair
responded:
"I really don't know what possible reasons you may
have for staying here, though I can imagine some."
"What's that now?" asked Severn.
"Oh, nothing," replied his wife, "and I see no need
of talking this matter over at this time. I think we can
take the subject up this evening. I mean our going
abroad at all."
"What's this new allusion she's hinting at?" asked
Severn as his wife left the room.


THIEVES
129
"I'm sure I don't know, and I don't care," answered
Kate.
"Well, you can answer me, can't you, in a politer
tone?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm a man to be respected in my own house."
"Yes, sir." This she uttered with an automaton-
like precision or mechanical iteration that was pecul-
iarly displeasing to the old man.
"When I say a thing, I mean it."
"Yes, sir."
"Now mind what I say!"
"Yes, sir."
"And I want no more of these democratic speeches
and the like in my house."
"No, sir."
"What's all this 'yes, sir,' and 'no, sir,' every time I
open my mouth? Are you mocking me?"
"No, sir!"
"There you go again!"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"No, sir."
"You're taking advantage of me here. You know
how these pains are shooting through me. Ouch!
Out of the room with you at this minute! Send
Wattles here or that other flunkey. What are you
standing there for? Why don't you get out when I
tell you to?"
By this time his daughter was well out of the room
and very happy to seek her own apartments. The
inevitable clash with her father, she felt, was fast ap-
proaching.


THIEVES
when he arrived home. Music was already wafted
from his rich neighbor's lawn. Beyond the hedge he
could see the forms of elegantly dressed women, so he
resolved to await their departure and, after loitering
in the pagoda as usual, to let Kate herself indicate
when she would be free to see him. He mused with
mixed feelings until he heard a voice behind him.
"You're home a little early to-day, John," said Tom
Richardson.
"Ah, you here? Why, yes, Tom, a little early, I
think."
"Hagan in the office to-day?"
"No."
"Where do they say he is?" Tom sat down.
"He left no word. I suppose you want to know,
Tom, what's been done in those matters we talked of
the other day, so I'll tell you now that Dickson was
in yesterday afternoon, and I gave him full instruc-
tions how to make application to our office. One of
the younger men there will help him prepare affidavits
and then they'll turn it over to me."
"Well?"
"And if it's all right, we'll take action."
"When?"
"To-morrow or next day."
"Why didn't the younger man have the thing ready
for you to-day?"
"I don't know, Tom. I've been working like a dog."
"But there's nothing more important, John, than
this business, is there? That is, to thousands of peo-
ple?"
"No, but I can't do everything; and for that matter,
Tom, what were you doing that you didn't try to hurry


132
THIEVES
it up yourself? You know Dickson—probably talked
with him, didn't you?"
"Yes, I talked with him yesterday after he had been
to your office."
"Well!"
"This morning we hurried around to your office,
got hold of the young man—or rather, Dickson did.
I saw him just after he had been up there and, so to
speak, I was there with him—and Dickson tells me
that the young fellow fooled around all the morning;
and when Dickson wanted to see you and ask you
about it in your room, the young fellow said you didn't
want to be bothered."
"This is the first I've ever heard of that."
"And then this kid he puts Dickson off till the after-
noon, and then he picks up our affidavits and finds all
sorts of technicalities—and so another day's lost."
"I'm sorry, Tom."
"I thought I'd stay away from your office, thought
I'd prevent any talk about your brother, a labor union
leader, being around there running things, and besides,
I wanted to come out here for a good, plain talk with
you, John, about something else."
"I'm—glad of that."
"John, I want to tell you that some things have been
happening lately to make the boys a little dissatisfied."
"Yes?"
"To begin with, that report in the newspapers about
your selling the place to Severn was unpleasant, and
you have to be specially careful, John, not being a
member of a union, of course, and being a lawyer, a
class the boys don't altogether trust, and not looking
labor-like exactly yourself."


THIEVES
133
"Good Lord, they've known me too long for—"
"Well, the world's the world, John. Now, this
other thing you'll excuse my mentioning, for it's none
of my business, but being your brother and devoted
to you all my life, I can't help, John, just talking about
it right now."
The color mounted to John's temples as he told his
brother to proceed.
"Now, John, as I say, I hope you'll excuse me—but
a word's been whispered about you that you've made
up some sort of an acquaintance with old man Severn's
daughter."
"Well, it's true!"
"And they think it was with her that you were seen
on a street car."
"Yes, that's true, too. But I would hardly think
people would, so to speak, spy on me. Not that there's
anything to conceal."
"Well, it was Dickson saw you there, and you
haven't a better friend in the town. He thinks you're
the greatest man on earth. But Severn's daughter is
Severn's daughter, John, and there's no getting away
from that. This strike is going to spread to Severn's
mills, and—"
"Well?"
"Oh, nothing, John. Here I am, a successful
leader, for the first time in years in this county in an
attempt to organize labor and band it together strong.
Labor unions may be only a temporary invention or
necessity until this competitive system, or wage sys-
tem, gives way to something better. But they're a
necessity to-day against capital when it has the right
to combine. It is my only ambition to succeed in this


134
THIEVES
union, and there couldn't be a better thing to live for
than that."
"You're right, there, Tom. My heart is with you.
A poor man will go to bed hungry with less complaint
than a rich man will make if his automobile's delayed
twenty minutes in the street."
"Right, but now you're in the Commonwealth At-
torney's office, Hagan away, and you expected to
take the most vital action against these infernal scoun-
drels. There ain't a lawyer in the country that could
make me believe our people wouldn't be justified in
feeling a little suspicious if something went wrong.
Suppose, for instance, you do your best. And sup-
pose, even then, that something slips up in court.
Where will the blame go? As for the young lady and
you, I don't know whether you ever have any hopes in
that direction."
"It's only an acquaintance."
"Of course there's nothing in it—couldn't be any-
thing in it. I've heard you say often enough your-
self, John, that this new class that's sprung up in
America is away off by itself, can't be bridged over
to by the plainer classes as it used to be."
After a silence he resumed.
"Forty million dollars they say old Severn's worth!
Think of it! Let's try to imagine what that means.
Let's see. Suppose a man ages ago had twenty-five
dollars a day. That'd be a big salary. Suppose you
had it yourself, eh? Pretty big, John?"
"I suppose so, Tom. Yes."
"Twenty-five a day, or seven hundred and fifty a
month, or, say, nine thousand a year. Now a thou-
sand years of that's just nine million dollars! Only


THIEVES
135
nine millions to old Severn here. Why, it would take
four thousand years and more to make his fortune,
beginning two thousand years before Christ and long
before all those old Greeks and Romans. That's a
modern fortune for you! And I suppose he wants
more. We're simply ants and insects to Severn."
John remained silent.
"Of course as I say, John, it's none of my business,
but I can't help seeing you looking over there wistfully
all the time. Your thoughts are always strolling over
the hedge, and mother knows it too."
"I don't know after all that this is anybody's busi-
ness but mine."
"Well, you'll excuse me, as I said before, John, it's
none of my business, none of—"
"Tom Richardson, have I ever failed in my duty to
any man?"
"No."
"Then, what's all this talk for? "I don't mean it
unkindly now, but what's it all for?"
"I—I—well, as I say, it's none of my business, John,
but you'll excuse my hesitating for I think you have
more feeling in this matter than you perhaps let us
see—but I'll be plain and square with you. I want
you to give her up!"
"Then I'll be equally plain with you. There's noth-
ing to give up, to begin with, and besides, I'll not give
up what there is."
Tom Richardson gave him one long look, turned
on his heel and walked away, saying half aloud on his
way to the gate, "It's always this way. I never knew
it to fail. They always tie us up!"


CHAPTER XX
DICHARDSON, though he had been able to an-
svver his brother with so much spirit, was far
from feeling equal resolution within, but he was able
to fortify his purpose by reflecting with some in-
dignation upon the fact that his being in the street-
car with Kate had been reported and, keeping himself
in this humor, he was in spite of himself, so to speak,
at the pagoda about six o'clock. Alas, the truth of
what Dr. Johnson long ago observed: Nothing more
surely seduces judgment than the thought of passing
one's life with an amiable woman.
. He had not been long at the usual seat before Kate
herself appeared with two ladies, who followed her
out of the Severn grounds past the pagoda in the direc-
tion of the river.
"Why, here you are, Mr. Richardson!" exclaimed
she as one very much surprised. "Let me introduce
my friends, Miss Frale and Miss Olcott."
Mamie Frale, we may advise the reader, was the
daughter of a rich steel manufacturer and Miss Olcott
the daughter of a very successful railway man, who
had stolen so much that all nice families were glad to
know him.
"Won't you walk down to the river with us?"
John assenting to this, they were soon in conversa-
tion, Miss Frale exhibiting to him her lapdog.
136


138
THIEVES
complaint when its exactions are applied to themselves.
Ingratitude is proportioned to excess of bounty.
"You know Clara Ringer's dog, I suppose," re-
marked Miss Frale to John.
"I don't know Miss Ringer."
"N—no? Well, it fell out of Julia Jones' car the
other day and was nearly killed. I suppose you know
Julia."
"I haven't that pleasure."
"Really! You live—you're a stranger?"
"No, I've lived here all my life."
Miss Frale, perturbed, turned her conversation to
the others.
"What do you think?" she cried. "Edith Reddings'
cousin, that pretty one who was here last summer, has
gone off and married a college professor and the fam-
ily are awfully upset!"
"Gracious!" exclaimed Miss Olcott.
"What was wrong with him?" John inquired.
"Why, a professor, you know!"
"What—um—what did her family do?" asked
Kate.
"Do! You can imagine! Why, she could have
married—well, a duke, I guess."
"What—er—what did her friends do?" asked John.
"Why, well, you know, she's dropped out, just nat-
urally, herself."
"Is she happy?" came from Kate.
"They say so. Oh, I guess she's married happily
enough but not well."
By this time they had returned to the pagoda, where,
as the ladies were passing through the hedge, Kate
whispered to Richardson:


THIEVES
139
"I'll be back in a minute. Just wait here." As
they went up the slope to the house, Mamie Frale
inquired:
"Who is that man, Kate?"
"Yes," added Miss Olcott, "he's awfully handsome."
"His name is Richardson."
"Richardson? I don't remember that name."
"Where does he live?" inquired Miss Olcott.
"Over there in that cottage."
"In that little—in that place over there?" ejacu-
lated Miss Frale.
"Yes."
"It's rather funny, don't you know, and I must say
while I was talking with him I rather noticed—"
"No, you didn't," retorted Kate, "you're just seeing
him different because you find he hasn't any money.
If I had told you he was some eccentric young multi-
millionaire, you'd have been raving about his elegant
manners."
By the time the visitors had departed Richardson
was forgotten by all but Kate, who without a mo-
ment's delay, looking about a little cautiously to see
whether she was observed or not, made a rambling re-
turn toward that part of the lawn where she could
speak across the hedge to John in the pagoda. Look-
ing again she saw nobody on the grounds but herself,
as in a happy impulse she cried to him:
"You've got to visit me now. Come over here and
sit down on the lawn."


CHAPTER XXI
T T was a perfect evening when they seated them-
* selves on that fair slope and looked across the
river at the dapple hills. Though the guests had gone,
the musicians were not yet dismissed and there floated
through the trees from a distant part of the grounds
the fond, the amorous airs of Italy. Neither of the
lovers knew just why, but both felt that their relations
had been somewhat advanced and that they were a
little nearer to each other in sentiment because he had
at last become even in this small degree her guest.
She was the first to break the silence.
"It seems good to have you here."
"Thank you. I know I've often wanted to be here."
"Even before we met—when you used to see me
over the hedge?"
"Yes, and since I've met you, too."
"It's so beautiful this evening, isn't it, Mr. Richard-
son? So peace ful!"
"Perfect; and these terraces! Nothing can be more
beautiful. We're so glad you have them, for our
sakes as well as your own, for of course we get the
full benefit of them from our cottage."
"Your mother enjoys them, too?"
"Oh, very much! She's an excellent gardener in
our own little plot."
Kate was going to urge an invitation that his mother
come over soon and see the grounds, but immediately
140


THIEVES
141
hesitating she changed the subject by saying: "How
much I should like to see your mother! I'm going to
see her some day, may I not?"
"Of course you may! That's for you to determine."
Here again the poor girl could say nothing that was
perfectly natural, but she inquired:
"Has she ever seen me?"
"Oh, yes, and thinks—"
"Well, why don't you tell me?"
"Oh, perhaps you'd think I was flattering you—or
that she was," at which Kate colored with a pleasure
which she could not explain even to herself.
"I suppose she thinks I'm a dreadfully frivolous
and gay person."
"Well, as to that I couldn't say, because, of course,
she knows very little about you."
"She must be very proud of you."
"Oh, all mothers are, for that matter, I hope—
proud of their sons."
"Yes, but I think you've done just wonders. Tell
me, what assistance did you get in life? Did you do
it all yourself—learn to speak that way and get all
your education unaided?"
Then he went on to tell her little by little a large
part of the story of his life—the history of weary
struggle, of self-denial, of disappointments, of oppo-
sition from enemies and treachery from friends—of
the claw of spite, of the tooth, the sharper tooth of
hate, nor could Desdemona herself have hung with
more interest on that tale of endeavor. Anecdotes
both sad and droll diversified the story, which he be-
held her so pleased to hear, with simple feeling and
good nature. The depth of her attention could not


142
THIEVES
be disguised. He saw and deeply felt it . If she
loved him for dangers that he had passed, he dearly
loved her that she did pity them.
She found her feelings turned against her very father
when, without mentioning names, Richardson related
his struggles at the head of a movement for reform,
and recounted ingenious snares set for him by people
of great influence. He described what they called the
"business interests," who were often on the side of
a vicious administration and had their alliances with
the most corrupt elements in the city. She thought
of the intriguing Shortridge and the infamous Lock-
sport, then, looking on this simple, honorable and
handsome fellow, she almost hated riches.
During this story she had suffered herself to forget
what she did not yet believe was a certainty, but the
danger of which she could not deny, that is, that she
might have to take the trip to Europe, and when at
last she mentioned this to him it was with some vigi-
lance out of the corners of her eyes to perceive, as
well a girl in love might wish to perceive, what effect
it had upon him.
Poor John, for his part, could ill conceal the dismal
impression. Turning to look at her, he made a sudden
gesture with his right hand as one might do who had
been awakened from a dream, exclaiming, "To Eu-
rope 1"
It was pardonable in a woman to feel some satisfac-
tion in his manner.
"Yes," she responded, turning her head aside,
"father says sometime next week."
He arose hastily and, as she remained sitting, re-
marked in a changed voice:


THIEVES
143
"It's growing late. It's twilight already."
"Don't be in a hurry," said she, but his face looked
very cold as he replied:
"I must be going now."
As she rose reluctantly, he added, "Good-by," ex-
tending his hand without appearance of emotion, for
all his faculties had now been brought to command his
self-control. She, placing her hand in his, turned her
head aside but her heart responded to the warmth of
his touch.
"You're going to see me again, are you not?" she
asked.
Not trusting himself to speak, he hesitated while
his eyes wandered from the palace to the cottage in
an involuntary comparison, which, as she perceived it,
she appreciated only too well, and, since he seemed un-
able to say anything, she felt it not unmaiaenly to
stoop a little to conquer.
"Can't you take me—can't you take me to the work-
ingmen's part of town again?" she asked. They were
both softening now to a degree at which either was
likely to let fall some word of weakness, but the man
from whom it must naturally first proceed, being the
stronger, was able to .command himself. Prudence
found love escaping oft his lips and frightened it back
to his heart.
"To-morrow," he said, "I have a great deal of work
to do, too important to be neglected even for an hour.
Let me see!" He hesitated while reason struggled
against desire.
"Well," she suggested sweetly, "the next day, or the
one after that?"
"On Thursday, other work will probably keep me


144
THIEVES
busy, but Friday, probably, yes, Friday morning at
the same place as before."
"I'm sure to be there promptly, Mr. Richardson,
and—and—" here she hesitated, "I really don't care
to go to Europe at all."
He gave her a quick look and his lips parted in
speech, but the girl, whose head had been turned mod-
estly aside, exclaimed in a low voice:
"My stepmother—she's coming this way. I see
her," at which John, looking also, perceived Mrs. Sev-
ern about a hundred yards away.
"You needn't hurry on her account," said Kate, a
little ashamed to have intimated that she had any-
thing to fear from that lady, but Richardson feeling
that he might as well depart, observed:
"I must return. Friday morning at eleven, then?"
"I shall be very punctual," said she, and they parted.
With strangely mixed feelings he went back to
the little cottage, on the porch of which he found a man
waiting for him.
"You are Mr. Richardson?"
"Yes."
"John Richardson?"
"Yes."
"Then I have this paper for you," said the man
handing it to him and walking abruptly away.
Richardson had only to glance at it to know what
it was, process in foreclosure in the United States
Court in the suit of John Ray, a citizen of New York,
against John Richardson, a citizen and resident of the
State of Pennsylvania. The blood mounting to his
temples he glanced about in a half-bewildered way as
if to find fault with somebody or to protest against


THIEVES
145
the injustice, with which unfortunate expression on
his face he was interrupted by his mother.
"That man," she said, "he's gone, has he, and left
you that paper? What's the matter, John?"
"Oh, nothing, mother, nothing."
"But you look troubled. What is it, John, what's
in that paper?"
"Oh, never mind, mother. It's nothing more than
we meet with every day in the practice of the law. It's
a private matter, mother, don't bother about it."
Eating his dinner in a vexed humor, he was not, in-
deed, disturbed further by his mother respecting the
document, but he was glad to find excuse later to
withdraw to his own room with a book. He was to
meet Kate again, yet to that he looked forward with
only mixed satisfaction. In a fortnight probably she
would be on the high seas, a week later in a foreign
pleasure resort, in a month amused to recall the flirta-
tion of a few September days or her fancy for an
impecunious neighbor. The proud fellow reflected
with natural discontent upon the very circumstance
of their parting that afternoon, the appearing of the
stepmother, the involuntary willingness of Kate to end
their interview when a member of her household be-
held it, and the retreat, so to speak, that he had made
from premises into which he had not been invited
beyond the border. Neither to himself nor to her
was it fair that he, the older, should prolong this ir-
regular acquaintance. Then he would recall the look
in her eyes, and dwell on that. Then he would glance
from his window to see if there was a light in the
rooms which he thought were hers.
Confessing himself a fool, he was obeying in spite


146
THIEVES
of himself a law of gravitation in social intercourse.
We invariably seek the company of those above us
notwithstanding our greatest happiness is commonly
found among our inferiors.


CHAPTER XXII
MRS. SEVERN had not been observing the drift
*■ * of Kate's conduct without satisfaction. The lat-
ter's argument with her father about goodness to in-
jured laborers disclosed, she well knew, an attitude
or turn of mind in the girl more irritating to him
than an hundred various acts of temperordisobedience,
for on this point his prejudices were not only deep
from infancy but sore from public comment.
There now occurred a new reason to feel that she
was getting the better of her rebellious stepdaughter.
Of all the servants in the house Wattles was much
the most pleasing to old man Severn. While the
latter would not let the fellow discover it through
any unnecessary praise or compliment, he had never-
theless often admitted to his wife that this creature
was by far the most efficient man he had ever had,
nor did any of the other domestics ever long sur-
vive the hostility of Mr. Wattles. Mrs. Severn
was accordingly extremely pleased when she was ap-
proached by Wattles with complaints against Nora.
Kate, it was clear, would take the part of her maid,
the butler would threaten to leave the house, and a
serious, disagreeable controversy would arise.
"Hi'm very sorry to be making complaints at hall,
Mrs. Severn," began Wattles, "but Hi suppose you'd
not mind my speaking my mind a bit about one of the
maids in this 'ouse."
147


148 THIEVES
"Go on."
"Hi really think, Mrs. Severn, that hit's me duty,
not only to meself, but to you, mum, to bring the re-
port to you that Hi can no longer submit to the disa-
greeable hattitude of this young woman, Nora."
"What about her, Wattles?"
"Well, hit's a very long story, mum, and Hi 'ope
you'll pardon my hopening the subject to you at all."
"Goon!"
"You know, mum, it amounts to this, mum, that for
these last two or three months this young woman has
made it a p'int to be exceedingly disagreeable to me
whenever occasions of the 'ouse 'ere 'ave forced us
to be together. Not that Hi'm ever seekin' 'er com-
pany in the least, nor that Hi even hencourage 'er, and
it may be that it's because Hi don't hencourage 'er that
she's getting so resentful toward me. But as Hi was
a-sayin', mum, 'er hattitude is one of extreme him-
pudence and is a-gettin' worse every day, so that a
self-respecting person like myself 'as got to a
pint where 'e 'as got to let it be hunderstood 'ow 'e
stands with the 'ouse, and of course, mum, not to in-
volve hanybody in trouble or cause hany 'ardness, Hi
feel it me duty to be hofferin' you a vacancy now in
me place as butler."
"What does she say to you?"
"Oh, mum, Hi wouldn't dare to take hup your time
or to repeat such things to you."
"Have you spoken to Mr. Severn about this?"
"Not as yet, mum, not as yet. Hi thought it was
me first duty to be reportin' it to you, mum. There
bein' besides, mum, if Hi may be so bold has to hin-
timate it, a certain other reason which Hi don't care


THIEVES
149
to repeat, why this young woman hought not to be in
this 'ouse, not being particularly loyal to it."
"You needn't go into particulars," replied Mrs. Sev-
ern, who had her reasons for fearing too nice a detail
of the conversations of the kitchen. "And as for its
bothering Mr. Severn," she continued, "I don't think
it will give him any too great trouble. Just walk in
here with me now."
The butler following her into the apartments where
Severn was reading his newspapers by a window, the
same blunderbuss of complaint was discharged, and
though Wattles did not specify any language or point
out any unusually exasperating impudence of the girl,
he did make it very clear that a point had been reached
at which he would not remain in the house, for the ras-
cal well knew his advantage and could see as soon as
he began his complaints that he was master of the sit-
uation. Severn having listened to it all finally dis-
missed him in no unpleasant language.
"What's the use of having me bothered with this
affair?" said he to Mrs. Severn after Wattles had
gone out.
"Why, because he's your servant."
"Of course he's my servant, but what I mean is, why
didn't you discharge the girl yourself and put an end
to this trouble without bringing it upstairs here to
me?"
"Because the girl is Kate's servant, and I don't pro-
pose to discharge her maid and have a quarrel with her
without your consent or your previous authority."
"All right, you have my consent and previous au-
thority now. Throw her out of the house!"
"Suppose Kate objects?"


THIEVES
"She hasn't objected yet, has she?"
"But she will."
"How do you know?"
"Because I tell you she willl You might as well
settle right now what you're going to do if Kate ob-
jects."
"Are you going to stand there arguing with me?"
he began in a loud voice. "If you keep on, I'll put her
and you and all of you out of the house. Why don't
you go outside there now and tell that girl to pack up
her things and leave us?"
"You're speaking to me like a slave!"
"Well, you don't appear to be obeying like a slave."
"No, because I'm not a slave. I'm your wife, you'll
understand. Why, just look at you—just look at the
mealy-mouthed way you spoke to that butler. You
treat that creature better than you do me. You
daren't look cross at him once. Why don't you treat
him as you treat me?"
"Do you suppose I want to lose him?"
"Oh, so that's it!" she cried, beside herself with
wrath. "You can abuse me as you please, can you,
because I have to stay here? Oh, I have to, have I?
Maybe you'll find out to your sorrow a different side
of things! What kind of treatment have you ever
given me? Is there another woman in this town that's
been treated as shabbily as I have?"
"I spend a fortune on you every year, and you know
it!"
"It's false; you dole out to me the least possible
dollar that you can give me, and whatever you do give
me is given me not for my sake, but for yours, and to
keep up appearances with other people. Look at me!


THIEVES
Look at me! Look at the meanness I've had to en-
dure. For years you made me ride in those nasty
Pullman cars—made me put up with those dirty little
compartments there. Didn't I have to fight for years
before I got a private railroad car from you when
every other woman of my class in this town had one,
without a fight to get it?"
"I'm no rich man, I'm no Rockefeller. I've got
something, I suppose, a—"
"You've got millions and millions!"
"You're the most extravagant woman on the Ameri-
can continent."
"You know better. You know I wear my gowns
longer than any other woman in town, two or three
as many as a dozen times. You've even haggled with
me about the wages of my maid."
"Yes, you raised that French hussy of yours two
dollars a month!"
"I had to. She wanted five or would have left!"
"A nice way to throw money away! How do you
think that sounds when you know I have to spend
twenty thousand dollars on my kennels. Every man
in town has better. I'm ashamed of mine—and yet
you go raising that girl's wages right under my nose!
And the waste in our kitchen is something terrific.
I've seen them carting away barrels and barrels of
good food there. Haven't I told you five hundred
times that whatever's thrown in the garbage ought to
be given to the poor? Haven't you any charity in
you?"
The rich, prodigal of thousands, are frugal of pen-
nies. A hundred thousand is added to a yacht, a dime
is saved in a waiter's tip.


THIEVES
"Don't talk to me!" she cried. "Not another
word!" and with this was out of the room.
While she had left a peevish husband and may ap-
pear to have irritated him against herself, she had only
repeated one of many little scenes that left on his mind
no permanently disagreeable impression. It was the
original cause of the conversation, the improper be-
havior of Nora, that took hold of him at once, for, not
liking this maid himself, he had once or twice made
some trivial complaint of her to Kate only to find the
latter too ready with excuses and apologies. Nothing
had come of these small irritations because Nora was
seldom in his way. He now resolved that this girl
should be at once dismissed, a determination which,
even in advance, ruffled him against Kate.


CHAPTER XXIII
I IFE is not the pursuit of happiness but a flight
from evils. Richardson was indeed an unhappy
and mortified man when he arose the next morning,
for the first words that caught his eye in the morning
print were, "His House under Foreclosure; Assistant
Commonwealth Attorney doesn't Look after his Bills."
At first he would have hidden the paper from his
mother, but fearing that she might hear of the mat-
ter from some other source before he could have it rem-
edied, he made a clean breast of it, assuring her that it
could only be a trivial inconvenience, for, the property
being worth much more than the loan, he would have
no difficulty in getting a similar sum upon it from some
other lender. Leaving her comforted, he repaired to
his office and, as soon as the banks were opened, went
to see Edwards.
Mr. Edwards was mystified. What in the world
could the Smoky City people mean? The property
was worth a great deal more than the loan. Anybody
could see that. Anybody would lend money on that
place. Nobody could hope to acquire the property
by foreclosure, for it was only a step to go somewhere
else and get the same amount. It was an infernal
shame, he said, to treat a man in this way. Richard-
son need not bother his head about the matter ten
minutes.
Upon this the latter suggested that in case there t
153


i54
THIEVES
might be any difficulty with the unreasonable plain-
tiff in foreclosure, a loan be obtained of Mr. Edwards
himself, but Mr. Edwards was very clear that this
would not be necessary. The whole thing, he was
sure, was simply a mistake. Some hasty law clerk
had hurried to make fees without authority. Just go
to the Smoky City people at once and have the loan
reinstated.
Thanking him after a fashion, John went now
to the office of the Smoky City Trust Company.
Nothing could exceed the regret of these gentlemen
at their having been, even for a time, connected with
so lamentable a transaction. All they knew about it
was that they had bought the loan from the Mechanics'
National a few days before and immediately after-
wards had sold it to a gentleman in New York.
"You see," said the manager, "we have requests
all the time for this kind of paper, and regarding the
loan as good we simply disposed of it along with
twenty or thirty others a few days ago."
"But," said John, "do you know who the plaintiff
is? Do you know this John Ray?"
"No, haven't the slightest idea who he is. We
didn't sell the thing to John Ray. Don't know who
he is, even."
"Well, but to whom did you sell it?"
"Well, now, Mr. Richardson, you know this thing
being in litigation, perhaps we shouldn't answer these
questions too freely. We may be treading on some-
body's rights, you know."
"In what way?"
"Oh, well, you can understand that yourself. Some-
body has bought this paper and in his own discretion


THIEVES
155
is abotit to foreclose it. Now, he doesn't want us to
answer questions as to when and how we came by
this thing, or as to when and how we sold it to him.
As I say, we didn't sell it to John Ray—don't even
know the man. We sold it to an institution in New
York that continually buys these loans from us."
"I'm here to ask questions that I've a right to ask,"
said John sternly, "and I want them answered. You
can do as you please about answering them, but I will
do as I please hereafter in some other ways. Now
I left a check with you to pay my interest on the day
that thing was due. That check has never been re-
turned to me."
"Just a minute," replied the manager coolly, touch-
ing a bell, which was responded to very soon by the
young man in whose care John had left the check on
the day of maturity. The clerk bowed to Richardson
and did not disguise that he remembered him.
"What did you do with Mr. Richardson's check
that he says he left with you the other day here?"
"The one that I spoke to you about?"
The manager colored a little as he said, "Why, no—
yes, oh, yes, I believe you did mention that to me.
What did you do with it?"
"Why, I did as you said, I sent it back to him."
"I've never received it," remarked John.
"Oh, I didn't mail it back to you till the next day
sometime," replied the clerk. "You've probably got
it by this time—it may be in your mail this morning."
"I haven't found it yet," said John. "I was at my
office this morning, just came from there a little while
ago."
Here the manager explained that as he understood


THIEVES
iS7
"You tell me and I'll tell you," replied John. "I've
spent a good part of this morning trying to find out
who he is."
"I thought the Mechanics' National down here, Ed-
wards, had it," said Tom.
"He did have it, Tom, until two or three days ago,
at which time it seems to have gone to the Smoky City
Trust Company and then to New York, and flashed
about among the three of them like a marked card in
a three card monte game. However, it's only on
mother's account that I feel annoyed, because I've no
doubt I can raise the money to take up this loan with
another one."
"Sure!" said Dickson.
"I wouldn't swear to anything in this town with
the influences that these people control," remarked
Tom.
"Well, let that pass, Tom," said John as he rang
for the office boy, who also showed by his sympathetic
face that he was aware of the bad news in the morning
papers. "Send Mr. Robinson here, Eddie, please."
"The less we have to do with him the better, I think,
if you please, Mr. Richardson," remarked Dickson.
"Maybe so, Dickson, I'll see. I want to talk with
him. Tom has been telling me something here that
happened that I didn't know about. Oh, Mr. Robin-
son, here you are. What's been done about this mat-
ter of Mr. Locksport's arrest since I put the thing in
your hands on Monday morning?"
"Monday afternoon, it was, Mr. Richardson."
"Well, Monday afternoon. Nothing's been laid be-
fore me yet. Robinson, I'd like to know what's been
done?"


THIEVES
159
at last made out and the proper officers dispatched for
the arrest of Locksport.
"Here's my hand, Mr. Richardson," exclaimed Dick-
son as they came out of the office of the magistrate
before whom the papers were laid.
"And mine, too!" cried Tom.
"It is the beginning of a long fight, I imagine, gen-
tlemen, but I rather enjoy the prospect. I believe that
fellow to be an infernal scoundrel and I'm after him."
"It'll make fine reading for him in the evening pa-
pers, won't it, for him and his friends?" observed Tom
"They'll find other kinds of news gets into the papers."
"Men like Locksport haven't much fear of the state
authorities," said John. "They don't stand much in
awe of us county officers, I'm afraid. The people to
get after men like these are the Federal authorities,
but the trouble is, they don't often infringe the Federal
laws. What I want to show them is, that there's
power enough in this community to punish them when
the right men stand behind the guns. Now, gentle-
men, I've got a speech to deliver, as you know, in
about an hour or two, so I'll try to get my thoughts
together."
"And we'll be there to hear you," said Dickson.
"Yes, and we'll enjoy it all the more because just
about that time I'm hoping the extras will be on the
street announcing that that fellow Locksport's in the
hands of an officer," Tom Richardson added.
Dickson now went out and Tom lingered behind.
"You don't feel worried about this mortgage, do
you, John?"
"Not a bit. If I weren't so busy to-day with some
other things I'd go out at once and get another loan."


16o
THIEVES
"Mother doesn't feel particularly worried either,
does she?"
"A little, but I think I quieted her. I see you have
the same suspicions I have as to why that case was
pressed. The lawyers for that man Ray happen to be
lawyers that Locksport gives a good deal of business
to."
"Oh, I see that clearly enough, John. Nobody
starts a foreclosure an hour after a mortgage is due
unless he has an object. Well, I must be going. This
will be hot stuff on the streets pretty soon," saying
which he left John's office and passed into the outer
hall, where he fell in with little Eddie. He winked to
the boy and gave him a kindly nod as he passed out.
"That's his brother," said Eddie to another boy.
"I hope they get that Locksport sure. Feel sorry
they've started that mortgage on Richardson. I've got
twelve and a half in the Dollar Bank and Richardson
can have that sure enough if it will do him any good."
John was already hard at work arranging memo-
randa for his speech, and, interrupted frequently on
affairs of the office, he found it one o'clock when Ed-
die rushed in with a newspaper extra. John read the
headlines with an eager glance.
"REGINALD H. LOCKSPORT ARRESTED!"
"RICHARDSON RETALIATES FOR FORE-
CLOSURE."
"LOCKSPORT GIVES BAIL AND EX-
PRESSES CONTEMPT."
Then followed a brief account, such as could be had
on short notice, of what had occurred. Mr. Lock-
sport, it stated, had been arrested very rudely in his


THIEVES
I61
office without warning. The information charged him
with the crime of keeping in prison in the Western
Steel Works one William Gregory. It then contin-
ued:
"Mr. Locksport stated to our representative that the
whole attack was a complete surprise. He had been
maintaining an armed guard in as conservative a man-
ner as possible to protect a body of workmen remain-
ing in the Works in fear of their lives, on account of
molestation from the strikers. As to the motive that
led to his arrest, he has no doubt of a personal spite
upon which at this time he did not care to make fur-
ther comment. A recent mortgage foreclosure begun
against an officer in the Commonwealth Attorney's of-
fice who had been very neglectful of his debts was in-
timated, however, as a probable cause for this extraor-
dinary action."
Below this, in what is called a "square," was a brief
expression of opinion by the journal itself.
"Our public service," it ran, "is reaching a deplor-
able stage indeed, when officers charged with the im-
partial administration of justice can so obviously in-
dulge their personal resentment. The absence of Mr.
Hagan at this time from the city would under ordinary
conditions make youthful subordinates in temporary
charge a little cautious in the exercise of such grave
responsibility. We are glad to note that Mr. Locksport
has already given bail and will fight this case to a
finish."
Laying this down half in anger, half amused, John
looked up to see before him Darius Totten of the Pub-
lic Welfare League. He had a sweet, round face,


THIEVES
this Totten, which advised you in advance that he could
be no business man. What was worse, he had retired
from a manufacturing plant with only a few hundred
thousand to try to do good in leisure, on account of
which small sum his family was not reckoned nice by
others that remained in hogs or hides or scrap-iron
in order to pile one million on another. Attacking at
first only the criminal element, he was set down by
the mercantile world as merely queer, but when he
proceeded to assail the combination between criminals
and certain business men who were bent on governing
the town, the former for immunity, the latter for fran-
chises, he was denounced as a lunatic no longer harm-
less but as a disturber of finance and an enemy of the
town.
"They're firing on you already, I see," said Totten.
"Yes, yes. Sit down, Mr. Totten."
"No, thank you. I've just a moment to step in and
tell you the League feels gratified by this. We'd been
hoping something from Mr. Hagan, but—"
"Oh, I think he's all right," interposed John, "he's
all right. It's we younger men who stir things up."
"That's the way to talk. If money's needed, we've
got that, too, to help with, though small enough beside
what the other side can put up." He beamed reform.
"Well, this being public business, the public treasury
has to stand the charge, though you can assist, of
course, with employment of private searchers for evi-
dence and the like."
"Seems hard, Mr. Richardson, the difficulties our
leading citizens throw in our way. Hardly an official
dares to aid us, and you're one of the few. However,
we have to be patient. It takes time, takes time."


THIEVES
"I wish we had more people like you, Mr. Totten."
"Oh, I don't do half what I should. I'm not so
young as I used to be—just old enough to be stubborn,
I suppose they'd say. But I can sleep well every night.
Maybe some other people can't."
"I'm afraid they do, though," John added, "so far as
moral reflections concern them. When they lie awake
it's about danger to their money."
"Yes, or about making more, I suppose. I'm san-
guine, though. I believe in the future. Well, must
be going. Good-by for a day or so. We'll see. I'll
drop in to hear your little talk this afternoon."


CHAPTER XXIV
A LARGE crowd gathered at the new Central La-
** bor Hall to hear the favorite young orator upon
his proposed Compensation Acts. It was an address
at noon when many might attend without loss of time
from their employments. Dickson sat as chairman
and introduced Richardson amid great applause, but
noticed, as he cast his eye over the house, many per-
sons whom he had reason to distrust and whom, from
his experience, he knew to be there to cause trouble.
Richardson began with the pleasant artifice in which
great speakers since the days of the Greeks have apolo-
gized for their appearing to claim unduly the public
attention or to press their ideas when others, including
their hearers, could so readily offer better; nor would
he presume to intrude his suggestions if it were not
that the practice of speaking gave him some boldness
to express before an audience what his hearers lacked
only the leisure to present. Such an exordium in easy
colloquial tone was imperceptibly succeeded by a style
more animated, indeed, but retaining the simplicity of
expression suitable to a popular assemblage. It was
as if Demosthenes were persuading you in the language
of South or Atterbury.
"The past forty years have made us a splendid but
not a happy land. In the first half of our glorious his-
tory a famous foreigner, a man of enduring fame in
164


THIEVES
the science of government, Alexis de Tocqueville, vis-
iting our fortunate country extolled among other felici-
ties of our ancestors this, that there was plain among
us a general equality of conditions. Where, alas, is
that equality now? The difference between the poor-
est and the highest is so much widened that—but I will
not dwell on a change so sad. Three per cent, of our
people, three in every hundred, own, so terribly clear
are the statistics, as much as the other ninety-seven
put together. They fill the seas with their yachts, our
railways with their private cars. They dazzle us at
the theatre with precious stones. They crowd us on
the highways with powerful machines.
"The contentment of labor is the only security of
capital. What has been done, then, these forty years
for the working people? I declaim not against any man
simply because he is rich, but only that the rich are in-
creasing their gains at the expense of the poor.
"Let me explain. First, that unjust system of tax-
ation, the tariff laws. All the expenses of the national
government, billions of dollars (I speak not now of the
state governments), are unduly assessed upon the poor,
for the tariff taxes chiefly what goes into the stomach
or upon the back and there is no national taxation
upon either income or property. Secondly, since a
tariff must, by excluding competition from merchants
abroad, tend to make monopoly and higher prices at
home, the cost of living is increased so that clerks and
bookkeepers, slaves who toil with weary mind in arti-
ficial light, and laborers who struggle long hours with
their hands, find their wages not increased in propor-
tion or at all.
"Five hundred dollars is now the average annual


166
THIEVES
wage of an American workman. Upon this no man
can save a dollar. Yet higher, higher rises the price
of what we must eat to live and wear to be decent.
But here another grievance. In every country ex-
cept our own capital through government has re-
lieved the plight of wage-earners falling ill or becoming
crippled. In all others it has believed itself bound to
aid them in the accidents of dangerous employments.
In all others it has acknowledged that a crippled father
means a pauper family."
Here he expounded the systems of various Euro-
pean countries. He instanced especially Germany,
where, he said, the health of the meanest laborer was
regarded with concern. "They reason there that every
laboring man or woman is to be the parent of citizens
and that a state can no more be strong with thousands
of crippled paupers than a human body can be sound
that has rotten toes.'
"In forty years of our increasing wealth not one
law has been passed to save our labor from the woes
of beggary, from blindness, or from crippled limbs.
Nearly one hundred thousand men, a loss like that of
war, are every year maimed and flung out of doors.
What is their relief? To bring a suit. Against
whom? A millionaire employer or his soulless insur-
ance company. Unequal struggle! He starves, the
plaintiff, while he files the papers. But what of the
case? He can win only if he prove himself in no wise
in error. Unhappy man! Worn out with a long
day's toil he turned to the right between two flying rods
in the roaring of the mill when he should have turned
to the left! He was negligent and fails! Oh, mock-
ery, mockery that he should have to debate the thing.


168
THIEVES
lawyer and orator like John Richardson. The assem-
bly became quiet after rousing applause.
Richardson then reviewed the decisions of the courts,
condemning some of them as absurdly construing con-
stitutions so as to make all legislation impossible on
this subject, decisions the more provoking because they
appeared to be solicitous of the laborer's point of view.
Then he mildly rebuked, though he deemed it pardon-
able, the angry denunciation which some of the unions
had hurled at judicial tribunals.
Again the noisy interrupter broke in, with several
beside him, heartily upbraiding the speaker, which
second vexation caused a tumult of resentment in the
mass of the hearers and at last the ejection of the of-
fenders from the hall. John, undisturbed, continued:
"The free Western fields which so long kept up
your wages are nearly gone and the era so long
dreaded is come at last. No longer can the workman,
turning to the soil, make way for another at the mills
and sluice the glut of hands. Taxation exclusively
by tariff grows harder every day. Shall a certain
rich woman, squatting on fifty million dollars in three
or four rooms, pay nothing for national government
except upon the trifle that she eats or the few gowns
or dishes she may buy? The rich have no reason
for national economy. On the contrary, they have
every reason for national expense. They shift to the
plain people the bulk of national taxation, while the
tariff, under which they engage as manufacturers,
filches the gains of the multitude with its stealthy and
rapacious paw.
"Well may the rich extol battleships, incredible pen-
sions, ship subsidies, armies, and wars. Let us have


THIEVES
16g
these fine things if we will, but out of a federal in-
come tax perhaps? Oh, nol Well, then, out of a
federal inheritance tax. Not at all! Then by direct
taxes on property. Oh, most unfair! No, on any
such basis as this you will hear no more of all these
ship subsidies and armies and battleships and wars."
In conclusion he fell again upon riches, which in this
country, he said, were indifferent to civic virtue. He
instanced with scorn the Sugar Trust's cheating at the
customs scales, the stealing of city water by a Chicago
packing-house with a secret pipe, the bribing of mayors,
the resistance to wholesome laws.
"An aristocracy of wealth has succeeded the old
aristocracy of blood, and the capitalist class, which
helped us win our victories over kings, resent in you
the very arguments they applaud in the mouths of their
ancestors."
The address ended in great enthusiasm for the
speaker. "That little gang on the left there," said
Dickson to John, "were some of Locksport's hirelings.
They're not even strike-breakers, only thugs. Our
boys know them."


CHAPTER XXV
/^\UR habits are our masters, exacting more as we
submit. Wallowell Severn was deeply annoyed at
the possibility of his suffering the loss of Wattles, a
clever knave who had never failed to answer his faint-
est wish and to serve him with the nicest pomp, so
he was not long in sending for Kate to inquire the
cause of this trouble between Nora and Wattles and
to let her know that the maid must be dismissed at
once.
He began, however, in fairly good humor, for that
afternoon he was not suffering in his legs as much as
usual. Even Locksport's arrest did not give him much
uneasiness, because as has already been seen, he had
no affection for this gentleman and was apprised that
the latter had promptly given bail. The only effect of
the information was to make him resolve to depart to
Europe as early as possible. Criminal proceedings, he
knew, become epidemic sometimes in communities and,
though he had the most perfect confidence in his ability
to defy the law and every court in Christendom, he
feared the labor trouble might grow more acute apd
some lives be lost for which people like himself would
be held responsible. Shortridge, with whom he had
consulted as to the going abroad, had seemed to accede
to it.
"What does Wattles say Nora said?" inquired Kate
when her father began.
170


THIEVES
171
"Said she's generally impudent to him, impudent a
long time."
"But you don't want me to discharge Nora, that I've
had eight years, simply because she can't get along
with that man Wattles?"
"That's exactly what I do mean. He's my man
and a good one, and I don't propose to have him both-
ered with a saucy Irish maid."
"But you don't mean, do you, father, to let him have
his own way and make you give whatever orders he
fancies?"
"No, • I don't. He knows me too well for that.
What I want is that you give this girl a good talking
to and find out what this row is about."
"Would you like to talk to her yourself?"
"No, I don't want to be bothered with her. I want
you to talk to her and let me know at once some ex-
planation of this thing, and if it isn't to my satisfac-
tion she'll get out of the house to-morrow. I'm going
to have the whole matter cleared up before we leave
here for Europe. That reminds me—have you been
getting ready?"
"Why, no. The fact is I haven't heard from you
further about it."
"You didn't need to hear from me further. I don't
see what's the reason you're so indifferent to going. I
never found you this way before."
"I haven't heard anything from Miriam about her
going, either."
"Well, judging by the terms you're on, I don't see
that there's much reason for her communicating with
you. She'll do what I say, and you can only presume
that she'll do what I say. I guess I generally have


172
THIEVES
my way in this house, don't I, when I feel like it? Do
you want any money to get ready with?"
"No, sir."
"Now, there's another thing. I cautioned Miriam
not to say anything about this going away. I ought
to have told you so at the outset, but I forgot about it,
especially as it wasn't until perhaps to-day that I felt
the matter ought to be left unmentioned. You had a
lot of young women here yesterday. Did you tell
them about it?"
"No, I didn't, father, because I didn't think that the
matter was entirely settled yet."
"Well, we're going, but on the other hand, as I just
said to you, I don't want anything said about it. A
lot of these anarchists are making themselves smart
by serving all kinds of papers and getting out all kinds
of arrests against decent people like myself, and I guess
I'll just fool them if they have anything of that kind
up their sleeve against me."
Kate said nothing and looked away, for she sud-
denly remembered what she had said to Richardson.
"And speaking of anarchists and that sort of peo-
ple," continued the father, "I want to be very frank
with you, Kate, that I'm not in the best of humor with
some of your notions on these subjects. I'm not going
to get up another argument with you here and allow
you to show your powers of debate. I just want to
tell you you've been talking too much on the demagogic
side of these questions to suit me. Now, that's all
about that matter for the present. If you want any
more money to get ready with, I'll give it to you, but
I want you to get ready at once and make up your
mind to that."


THIEVES
173
Thanking her father without much ado, she retired
to her own apartments, where with no loss of time she
called before her the faithful Nora.
"Nora, there's been some complaint made against
you by Wattles—to father."
"Very good, mum."
"Well, what about it?"
"I don't know yet, mum, because you haven't said
what it was."
"I don't know myself, Nora, but it's made a great
impression on father. Have you had any words at all
with Wattles lately?"
"Nothin', mum, but what might pass betwane a lady
and a gintleman, a polite ixpression of opinion of wan
concernin' the other."
"When?"
"Yisterday, mum, was the last wan."
"You've had several, then, have you?"
"Yes 'm, an' I think ye've possibly heard me expriss
me opinion to you about Mr. Wattles once in a while
in the past two months."
"Never mind that, Nora. What was this last argu-
ment, or whatever you call it, about?"
"It's not for me to say, mum."
"But it is for you to say. Out with it!"
"Sure, mum, it's not for me to be repatin' disagree-
able things even in silf-difense."
"Disagreeable things about whom? About Wat-
tles?"
"No, mum, not about Mr. Wattles—though there's
plenty of disagreeable things I could repate about him
too, if I had a mind. But what I'm a talkin' about to
ye's the disagreeable things that Mr. Wattles himself
s


174
THIEVES
said about some other people that needn't be mentioned.
I'm quite sure, mum, ye'd be very much displeased with
me if I repated what he said to me."
"Do you mean it was about me?"
"Now, there, mum, you'll be mad with me in a min-
ute."
"Do you mean that Wattles said anything to you
about me that you didn't like? Nora, I want you to
tell me at once what occurred."
"Sure, mum, I don't want to be in the position of
tryin' to injure any person, an' I'm not goin' to say a
bad word whatever of Mr. Wattles, though he's nothin'
but a low-lived spy, 'an' when it comes, Mr. Wattles,'
says I to him, and just that way, mum, says I, 'when
it comes to your intimatin' an' insinuatin' things about
me mistress that I've loved all these years—'"
"Well, go on."
"'Why,' says I, 'Mr. Wattles, I'd not be half dacent
if I submitted to hearin' it.'"
Kate's feelings at this juncture may be easily im-
agined, for she began to reflect that some things which
she had kept even from her devoted Nora were perhaps
generally known.
"I want to hear the rest of this right now."
"Well, mum," resumed Nora, happy indeed to have
this chance to let off steam, "what do you think the
low blackguard said to me with his turned-up nose?
He intimates to me that I was a-puttin' on airs, mum,
an' him with more airs than would fill a castle, an' me
only replyin' to his questions an' askin' if he had any-
thing more to inquire. 'Oh,' says he, 'you don't need
to put on so much style with me. You don't need to
hold your head so high,' says he to me with that low


CHAPTER XXVI
""THE tears of youth resemble the rains of spring,
for, though they give us gloomy days, they assure
a fertile year. Kate Severn, reared to idle pleasure,
was already a better woman because she was begin-
ning to feel a degree of suffering and was the cham-
pion in her own heart of the weak against the strong.
More in love than ever, she recalled a thousand times
that first grasp of Richardson's hand, the pressure of
which she still seemed to feel upon her own. Often,
too, would her mind go back to the moment when she
first saw him, to the moment when she turned her
head and, turning, saw the man. No Fiammetta ever
cherished flame more ardent.
Notwithstanding her father's injunction she began
no preparation for the journey, being still in the hope
that either she or her stepmother would be able to
prevent it. As to the latter person, Kate on full re-
flection was satisfied that she would interpose excuses
for delay. In some way or other, she reasoned, a week
or two might be gained, and even that would be an
age of pleasure to a girl in love.
As to her immediate trouble about Nora she was in
considerable doubt. To discharge the girl was now
the last thing in her mind, even though in refusing to
do so, she should make a permanent quarrel with her
father. It was Wattles himself that ought to be put
177


178
THIEVES
out of the house, but for that it would be impossible to
offer the only reasonable pretext that existed.
Determined to avoid any further talk with her father
that day, she was glad to find an excuse to take dinner
at the Olcott's, from whose house she did not return
until nearly nine o'clock. When she went to say good
night to her father, she learned he was in conference
with Shortridge and that the two were expecting Lock-
sport. That the latter had been arrested she read in
the evening newspapers with no small glee, but, the
Severns receiving only journals in their own interest,
she was ill pleased to see that Richardson's motives
were laid to revenge and that his little home was un-
der foreclosure. With indignation she perused a gar-
bled account of his speech delivered that afternoon.
Sentiments, that she was sure he never uttered, were
put in raw language and scornful style, while an ex-
pression "fat and stupid beneficiaries of legislation"
was by one impartial journal declared to be an insinu-
ation against "one of our most esteemed citizens resid-
ing not far from his traducer."
Wishing to be alone, she dismissed Nora downstairs
and, retiring to her rooms, lay down on a couch in a
bay-window of her sitting-room without turning on
the light. What her musings would have been the
reader may easily guess. She had no time, however,
to give herself up to meditation, for scarcely had she
lain down when she heard under her window the name
of Richardson.
"He's a low-lived hypocrite," said her father.
Raising her head, she could hear the voices more
distinctly since they were only a yard distant and were
uttered on the small veranda in front of her father's


THIEVES
179
upstairs sitting-room, which closely adjoined her own
chambers. The night was warm, the air was still, and
the conversation floated easily through her open win-
dow, so that if she continued to listen to it after hear-
ing the name of her lover, she needed, we trust, the
argument of no Liguori or other casuist to excuse her.
"Yes, a hypocrite. You're right, an infernal hypo-
crite," added Shortridge. "You read his speech, did
you?"
"Yes, but I hardly ever more than glance at those
things."
"Got a vile tongue," said Locksport. "Speaks of
'fat and stupid beneficiaries of legislation.' Fat and
stupid!"
"Who was he driving at there?" asked Severn.
"Don't know," replied Shortridge.
"One of the papers said he meant you, Mr. Severn,"
Locksport observed indifferently.
"Me? 'Fat and stupid?' Oh, he's trying to make
fun of my figure, is he? Why, the pup! I don't sup-
pose anybody cares if I am stout. That was a great
argument, wasn't it?"
"Well, he didn't make much out of me, either,"
Locksport went on. "I was bailed out in about fifteen
seconds. Guess it made his crowd sick to see how
quick I raised that money. Had a mob of millionaires
down there falling over each other to put up the bond.
He'll find what it is, the whelp, to attack a man of my
standing. I'm glad you don't feel any uneasiness
about yourself, Mr. Severn."
"Uneasiness!" Severn exclaimed with a laugh. "He
knows better, the booby, than to get after me. Glad
you put that foreclosure in motion against him."


THIEVES
181
dismissed by tomorrow, and if Richardson won't dis-
miss it, why, he'll just have to be removed."
"Undoubtedly," said Shortridge. "Mayor Brown
telephoned Hagan also, and I guess about six or eight
of our principal bankers. The fact is, the line was
just kept hot for a while. The funny part is, Rich-
ardson himself doesn't know where Hagan is. I've
found Hagan true blue right down the line here now
for years past, every office he filled."
"Yes," added Severn. "When are you going to get
rid of this fellow Richardson once for all and for
good?"
"The only way to break him for good, Mr. Severn,"
replied Shortridge, "is to smash his influence with his
followers. Now we started in to-day, and the first
thing we're going to do is to force him to dismiss this
suit against Mr. Locksport here. The minute he dis-
misses it, then we'll dismiss our suit in foreclosure.
Do you see?"
"No, not exactly," said Severn.
"He didn't attack Locksport, don't you see, until
after Locksport's friends had started the foreclosure
on him, and just as soon as we drop the foreclosure,
he drops the prosecution. Can't argue against coinci-
dences like that. It will keep him explaining the thing
for a year."
"Shortridge suggested that," said Locksport, "and I
think it's cursed clever."
"Not bad," chuckled Severn. "Shortridge'll be
after another raise in salary."
"Oh, no, not yet," said Shortridge with a laugh.
"Plenty of time for that. Now the next thing. We


182
THIEVES
decided to start in with a more vigorous policy here
of stirring up public rows. This strike's been too
peaceful. The public's getting in sympathy with those
people. There ought to be disorders of some kind—
rows in the streets—broken windows. Then we call
in the police, have the hurry-up wagons running up
and down the streets all the time. Then the people get
tired of it. Of course, it's a rather ticklish sort of
business, but still we have to act in self-defense some-
times, have to start these rows. The people always
lay them to the strikers."
"If those fellows are not making rows," said Sev-
ern, "they're wanting to make them, so it's the same
thing."
"We have the best man in the United States for that
business, the best row organizer I ever knew," said
Locksport. "Of course it means some broken heads.
Rather ticklish business."
"I'm not supposed to know anything about it, you
understand," observed Severn.
"I spoke to Maloney of the street car company, and
he says he'll crowd the service down there towards the
car works any day we want, so if there's a crowd gath-
ering there, he can swell it fast. The police will follow,
you know. I saw the chief about it a day or two
ago. We'll just mass things for a rush fight and
clean the crowd up. Then when the papers come out
the next day, I think the public will cry quits on this
business."
"I should think the chief would be energetic," re-
marked Severn; "we keep him alive."
"Yes, that's so, but still he might bleed us a good
deal," said Locksport.


THIEVES
"Another idea now. The chief says nearly all these
fellows, like Richardson, have a record some way or
other. Generally it's a woman."
"Well, has he got one?" asked Severn.
"No," replied Shortridge with a laugh, "but I guess
we can get him one. The chief's just going to steer
some handsome woman around him there, and we'll see
how sweet and virtuous this young man is. All we
have to do is to get him into a scandal of some kind
and that'll kill him off in good style. The chief told
me a good story of how that's been worked on a reform
mayor out West. Worked perfectly. Ruined the fel-
low."
Kate could listen to no more. She rose up in horror
and retreated to the interior of the room, covering her
ears with her hands that she might not be a listener to
so much infamy.
Are you surprised, reader, that eminent financiers
should propose such villainy? Retire, anchorite, to
your cave. You do not know your country.
"A stroke or two like that will stop all this talk of
arresting leading people on all sides," resumed Short-
ridge.
"Arrest's the last thing I think about," Severn
sneered.
"Oh, you've done nothing wrong, any way. They
could only allege collusion."
"Collusion. That'd be like them! We're>friends,
ain't we? How can there be collusion between
friends! Thank God, there's some law left in this
country to protect men like me. But here's Mrs.
Severn coming. We'll drop this subject, and you fel-
lows finish this pup to-morrow."


184
THIEVES
The difference between an anarchist and your per-
fect individualist is this. The anarchist will have no
laws at all. The individualist will have laws that pro-
tect him, but none to obey.


id your per
iviJ] have ne-
ws that pro■



''"'It was'perfectly plain that the step■mother was guilty."


CHAPTER XXVII
CHORTRIDGE remained that night at Severn's.
*^ It being very late when the conference broke up it
was suggested by Mrs. Severn, who had joined the gen-
tlemen about eleven, that it would be safer that he
should stay rather than ride to town so late, now that
there was so much disorder and those brutes in the
Commonwealth Attorney's office were no longer will-
ing to protect our best people.
It was half-past nine the next morning when Short-
ridge in the breakfast room was joined by his hostess.
They nodded and smiled.
"Is he up?"
"I haven't heard any sounds from his room yet."
"I'll not wait for him."
"Have they given you a good breakfast?"
"First rate. Speaking again about his being ar-
rested, I think we can prevent it, but there's no tell-
ing. Somehow or other the load is always put on men
in my position. Now, coming back to this thing we
were talking about last night, Kate's influence across
the way. It seems to me it would serve your turn just
as well if she did use her influence effectively with
Richardson for the old man. She'd have to see Rich-
ardson more to do it and her father would be just as
furious if it did him good as if it did him harm."
"I'll think it over, George."
"Another matter—this girl Nora. You were say-
185


186
THIEVES
ing last night that you were sure to get rid of her,
Miriam, on account of this row with Wattles. I've
been thinking that matter over, too, this morning, and
I've made up my mind to keep shy of this house as
long as that girl's in it. So if you wish to see as much
of your humble servant as heretofore, you'd better get
rid of her at once."
"It's no use, George, to go over this situation again.
You needn't think I want that creature here a minute
longer than I have to. You must remember Kate's
influence with her father. If that fool housekeeper
of mine wasn't sick and away so long, I could work
the thing out better through her."
"There's two sides to that question," replied Short-
ridge, who, not being quite so much in love as the
lady was, felt that a very valuable position was im-
periled by his relations with her and was not disposed
to take great risks. After further talk he took his
leave.
Mrs. Severn had scarcely bade him good-by at the
door when she had the ill-luck to pass Nora in the hall
and to receive from that damsel so lofty a look of in-
accessible virtue as put her beside herself with wrath.
She immediately started upstairs to demand from Kate
the insolent maid's discharge.
Kate, for her part, had risen late and had just sent
down for her coffee. The poor girl had lain awake
until nearly three o'clock in a variety of tormenting
reflections upon the iniquity of what she had over-
heard, her duty to advise Richardson, and her duty to
her father to say nothing at all. The conclusion she
had reached was that as the possible arrest of her
father was a thing they seemed to make light of on


THIEVES
187
the veranda, it became her to let Richardson know, at
least in some degree, the rascally schemes to be set in
motion against him. Of Hagan's action in particular
he ought to be advised without an hour's delay. She
was in this frame of mind when her stepmother en-
tered the room, an honor somewhat unusual. Kate
formally enough bade her good morning.
"There are two or three things, Kate," said Mrs.
Severn, "that I should like to talk over here."
Kate nodded assent.
"First, about Europe. It doesn't matter where or
how that came into your father's head, I, personally,
don't care to go this time of year. Perhaps you have
some objections yourself."
"I don't know."
"Well, I thought if it were so, and you had, it might
influence your father in—"
"I have shown him that I don't care to go," replied
Kate, "and I'm frank to say the same thing to you.
He says, though, we've got to go—said so yesterday
and told me to get ready at once. What have you
said to him?"
"I was putting off a final talk with him, hoping cer-
tain things would change his mind, which it's possible
they may."
"What, for instance?"
"The lawless way these strikers are acting, this ar-
rest of Locksport—of course you know about that. It
will be followed, some people say, by another high-
handed outrage in the arrest of your father."
"Really?" replied Kate, but without excitement.
"Father's done nothing wrong, has he? Probably he's
not afraid."


188
THIEVES
"No, he's not afraid, of course, but it's disgraceful
and disagreeable and, now, it's a delicate subject to
talk with you about and you won't misunderstand my
motives at all in mentioning it—"
"What is it, Mrs. Severn?"
"You've become acquainted—with this—this Mr.
Richardson next door."
"Yes. Well."
"He's in control of the Commonwealth Attorney's
office. I don't know whether you know that or not,
but he's the one that arrested Locksport—" here she
paused for a moment, but Kate made no comment, so
she continued, "and he is the one, as I understand,
that's liable to have your father arrested, too." Kate
continuing silent, the stepmother proceeded.
"If anybody has any influence with that man, I think
they ought to use it."
"Mrs. Severn," replied Kate, "I know exactly what
you mean. I have no influence with Mr. Richardson
that would be worth mentioning. I know him and
like him, and I'm very, very sorry that things are as
they are. As to influences, I think father and Mr.
Locksport and Shortridge have abundant."
"Oh, very well! You take the position, do you, that
there's no necessity of exerting whatever little influence
you have?"
"I have nothing more to say."
"Now, there's another thing upon which I hope you
will have something to say," resumed the older woman
with warming temper. "Your maid. Your father has
given you his decision in this matter and I suppose
you've communicated it to her, have you?"
"Yes."


THIEVES
"Well?"
"She's still here, isn't she?"
"I want to know, Kate, and I have a right to know,
whether she is going to stay. That's what I mean and
you know it."
"Here she is now."
Nora, who had just entered with a tray, made her
way without remark to a small table, where she began
to distribute the dishes.
"Nora," began Kate, "since you're here just at this
moment, I might as well ask you a question or two."
"Yes'm."
"It's too bad that in addition to the complaints made
here by Wattles, I have had to hear from time to time
some reports from Mrs. Severn. I hope you've always
been behaving yourself respectfully before her?"
"I surely have, mum."
"And if there's anything you've done that ought to
be apologized for, I'm going to have you apologize for
it now."
"Sorry a word or look, mum, that I have to apolo-
gize for, mum."
"I'm not here to have any argument with you,"
broke in Mrs. Severn, "but as mistress of this house,
I'll let you know that you have an impudent way of
passing me and looking at me, and if you didn't know
it before, you know it now, that you've got to leave
this house."
"I haven't heard that from Miss Kate yet, mum," at
which remark very naturally Mrs. Severn's face grew
redder than before.
"No, but you hear it from me, and you'll hear it
from Mr. Severn too. I want to know, Miss Severn,


190
THIEVES
if you permit this animal here to argue with me in this
house and before your face."
"An' if you please, mum, I'll be called no animal!"
"Nora!" cried Kate.
"An' I'm as good as the likes of you, Mrs. Severn!"
"Do you hear?" screamed Mrs. Severn. "Do you
hear the—?" using a vile word. This last put Nora
beyond all control, and it was in vain with gesture and
words that Kate attempted to remonstrate and stop her
mouth.
"Oh, ye call me that, do ye, mum? I dare ye to
say it again! I'm a dacent woman, Mrs. Severn, an'
that's more than you can say. Where were you last
night? Ain't ye very sleepy the day? I can say a
word or two this mornin', I think, that ye wouldn't like
to hear."
Mrs. Severn, turning pale now, leaned against the
table.
"You lie!" she said faintly and between set teeth.
Kate for her part was speechless, for she knew that
what before was vague was fast becoming terribly
definite.
"I do, do I? Oh, I do, do I?" the maid exclaimed
in triumph and anger. "Would ye look at this? would
ye just put your eye on that? would ye be tellin' in
whose room ye dropped this?" at the same time
bringing forth from a pocket in her apron a small pearl
pin to which was hanging a thin blue ribbon, an ap-
pendage undoubtedly of ladies' lingerie.
A white thing to look upon was Miriam Severn, gaz-
ing at the trinket in terror. The room was dead still.
She tried to speak, then turned her head aside, first to
one wall, then to another, sinking slowly into a chair.


THIEVES
191
"You—you stole this—you stole it from my room,"
she said faintly at last.
"That sounds fine, doesn't it? I've as good a wit-
ness as there is in this house to back me word, and
God be praised, there's more than wan of us poor serv-
ants here that will try to kape the house dacent, an',
if ye'll be charging me once more with thim words, I'll
take this thing to your husband this minute."
The other raised her hand deprecatingly, with
sunken head, however, a pitiable heap of humiliation.
By this time Kate, pale and nervous, was able to com-
mand her tongue.
"Give that to me, Nora," she said. "Now leave the
room."
It was perfectly plain that the stepmother was
guilty. She could not raise her head.


CHAPTER XXVIII
HAT there was a deal of wickedness in the social
* circle in which she lived, Kate Severn well knew,
but, as her mind was innocent, evil of that kind never
seemed real. That certain wives were too gay, that
some husbands paid too much attention to wives not
their own was gossip which she may have believed,
but from which, innocent girl, she inferred only a
light degree of wrong. Now there sat before her a
guilty woman, a woman with shame just fresh upon
her. Instinctively shrinking back, Kate felt a greater
loathing against vice because it was now beneath their
roof and this creature a part of their family. What
to say under these circumstances was beyond either
her tact or her spirit, so it was some time before the
other feebly broke the silence with her head only half
raised:
"You—you don't—you don't believe that—do you?"
Kate, by this time almost overcome herself, had also
sunk into a chair, her elbows upon her knees, her face
buried in her hands.
"But you're not going to say anything—to say any-
thing to him, to—to your father, are you?" Still no
reply.
"I know you hate me, Kate. Maybe I deserve it—
I don't know. I haven't been as kind as I might have
been." Kate was still gazing stupidly on the floor.
"And Nora—you'll not let her tell this thing, will


THIEVES
193
you? You'll make her give that back to me, won't
you?" Kate pitched the pin without a word to the
other's feet, where it was eagerly picked up.
"But you can stop her—you will stop her from talk-
ing, too, won't you?"
"You have seen what a tongue and temper she has,"
Kate replied. "Judge for yourself. Oh, Miriam
Severn! Miriam Severn!"
"I tell you that it's all false, Kate, it's all false, and
they've prepared some cunning trick here against me
and I know you'll not be a party to it."
Kate got up, wandered to another chair and sank
down in that, too.
"Promise me that, Kate, won't you?"
"Mrs. Severn, can't that terrible man, that awful
creature, be kept away from this house?"
"Of course he can, but he has to come on business.
Kate, I'm going to Europe. I'll urge Wallowell to go
at once to Europe. You don't say that you won't tell.
For God's sake, you don't mean—"
"Oh, woman, be still! Give me time to think."
"But you won't? Tell me you won't!"
"I don't know what to say. Here in my father's
house this terrible thing!"
"But it would be wicked artd cruel to me to tell it!"
"It might be wicked and cruel to him to let him
know it."
"Yes, yes, that's true, Kate, and wicked and cruel to
him, Kate, too."
"I didn't say that I'd tell it, did I?"
"No, but you don't say, Kate, that you'll not tell it.
Think of it! Would you ruin a woman's life? I'll
promise never to see him again—never to let him come


THIEVES
195
ing less desperately and, after a moment's silence, she
added:
"I want you to know, Kate, that I appreciate this
and of course I'm going to do what I can to show you
that I do appreciate it."
"Thank you very much."
"Now there's a little matter of your own, Kate, that
I know you don't want talked about." Kate looked at
her, wondering what she meant.
"This acquaintance of yours, this person in the cot-
tage here."
"Well?"
"I'll protect you fully with your father," Mrs. Severn
continued with a delicate tone of charity and conde-
scension that was exasperating to madness.
"Protect me?" cried Kate. "You protect me?
Why, woman, what do you mean? I want no protec-
tion. Oh, oh!" The selfishness of her stepmother
left her almost speechless. "Go, please!" she con-
tinued. "Leave the room. Whatever you do, just
leave the room now, please."
"Now don't be angry, Kate."
"Angry? I couldn't be angry. I don't know,
Miriam Severn, whether I'm alive or dead at this min-
ute. Just leave me—leave me, that's all I ask. I tell
you again, I'll never speak of this to any person and
Nora will never speak of it either and will leave this
house. As for me, you'll not be troubled with me long
either, Mrs. Severn. I have a little inheritance from
my mother, as you know—I'll take that and I can live
somewhere else. The same roof can never cover you
and me."


CHAPTER XXIX
IT had been the first desire of Kate, upon arising, to
*■ communicate in some way with Richardson regard-
ing what she had heard last night, nor did she feel
the least stricture in conscience as to her right to let
him know at least a part of the scandalous things con-
cocted. Her father's share she need not reveal. It
would be enough to relate the devices themselves with-
out perhaps mentioning the names even of Locksport
and Shortridge.
She had very little time to lose. But how could she
talk with him? His office she could not properly seek.
Equally hazardous would it be to send a note. Even
to ask for him over the telephone might be to reveal
the secret to some listener in his office.
She had decided at last to telephone him from some
public station only a hint or two with the request that
they meet late in the afternoon at the pagoda, a device
which, as it was agreeable to love, was speedily ap-
proved by discretion. The terrible scene with her
stepmother now drove these intentions out of her mind
and, when she had in part recovered, her first thought
was to recall Nora in order to put the blabbing temper
of the maid under control.
Such was the purity of her thoughts that when Nora
reentered the room she was unable to look her in the
face or to bring herself to discuss such actions as had
196


THIEVES
197
been revealed. The maid, for her part, busied herself
with bustling about the room, setting in order first this
and then that, herself confused and wondering what
was coming.
"Nora," said Kate at length, "I have given her back
that pin."
"Yes'm."
"Who was this other person you said was a witness
or—"
"Olga."
"And what—what does Olga know?"
"She was a cleanin' his room, mum, and just hap-
pened to pick the thing up as I was goin' by the door.
She shows it to me an' I says to her, says I, 'Just let
me have that. It's a lady's.'"
"And what did Olga say?"
"Sure, thim Swedes niver say anything, mum."
"Did she say anything—do you think—she sus-
pects—"
"No, mum, but about a month ago when Mr. Short-
ridge stayed in the house I think she did say, mum,
something or other that I thought meant something
then. But sure an' I hope, Miss Kate, you'll not be
worryin' a minute on her account. Thim Scandina-
vians is too thick-skulled to see anything."
"Nora, will you promise me never to speak of this
to a living soul?"
"Oh, far be it from me, mum, ever to mintion it on
this earth. Sure, an' I've never spoke to another per-
son in the world about secrets. It's not for the likes
of me, mum, to be talkin' about the people of the house,
an' I never do. There's nothin' upstairs that's ever
talked of by me downstairs, you may be sure of that,


200
THIEVES
drag him down into shame—but I can't stay here
either. Now get up—stop crying! I'll speak to Mrs.
Severn about it and you can remain here two or three
days and I'll form my own plans too."
With that she was able to rid herself of the loving
creature, and feeling that valuable time had already
been lost, she hurried to a suburban shop to telephone
to Richardson.


202
THIEVES
even more frank, for the managing vice-president re-
minded Richardson that he had read his speech of
yesterday and felt that those who could talk of capital
in this style had better get on without it. The man-
ager would be untrue, he said, untrue to all the great
interests that had made the name of Pittsburgh famous
around the world, the great interests that had made
its name synonymous with business stability and com-
mercial honor, if either directly or indirectly he lent
any aid or countenance to a gentleman holding such
opinions. In fact, he seemed rather grieved that he
had been approached.
Returning to his office before luncheon he found
there Tom, who was expecting the arrival also of
Dickson.
"That was a great speech of yours yesterday, John."
"I hope your people are satisfied with it."
"Oh, they like it, most of them, very well. All the
leaders, of course, approve of it highly, but some of the
men, you know, they think those little criticisms of
the unions unnecessary. But you mustn't mind any-
thing of that sort, John. We've got a hard lot of men
to organize. All the ignorance of Europe has been
poured in here and we have to have those men in it
just the same as ourselves. A labor union's a sort of
a little republic. The voters are all the time trying
to pull down the men in office and the men on top often
can't get on without concessions to fellows below."
"Dickson's satisfied, is he?"
"Dickson's always true to you, John, and true to me.
The trouble with our unions is that they're not strong
enough. If they were big and strong, like the loco-
motive engineers, they'd have the power to control the


THIEVES
203
members, to punish them when they don't act up to
the principles of the order and to the common sense
that's necessary in intercourse between capital and
labor. It's because we're so weak that we sometimes
seem too strong. Here's Dickson, now."
The latter, entering with two other labor leaders
and exchanging the usual greetings of the morning,
seemed to be in some hesitation as to how to begin,
for he would look first at John and then at Tom, in-
timating finally to the latter that they might as well
talk that matter over with his brother. This sugges-
tion meeting with no response, he finally himself began.
"We're mightily pleased with everything, Mr. Rich-
ardson. We're going after this thing thoroughly.
The boys are satisfied. They don't care what the out-
come is, they know you're trying to do your duty."
"I never expected to please everybody," replied
John, "but I'm satisfied to get the commendation of
leaders."
"Well, that's the right spirit, Richardson," Dickson
resumed, "and Locksport's getting out on bail doesn't
worry us a bit. We expected he wouldn't be in con-
finement a minute. All we want to know is that the
legal machinery's started and that it's going to be kept
up."
"It certainly is so far as I am concerned, Dickson."
"Well, now, another matter. Maybe I'm a little too
quick about it but the boys have had it in mind for
some time. We're after somebody else here, Mr.
Richardson."
"Is that so? Whom?"
"Well—well, you see it's nobody else than this
damned old rascal of a Severn himself," Dickson


204 THIEVES
finally blurted out. "We don't like that man, not a
bit. The fact is, we hate the sight of him—hate him
worse than we do Locksport."
"Arrest Severn?" said John somewhat slowly, as his
own situation began to dawn on him.
"Yes, Severn!" cried both Dickson and Tom.
Just at this moment Eddie, throwing open the door,
inquired, "Mr. Richardson, there's somebody, a woman
I guess, on line one there and she won't give her name,
but she says she wants to talk to you. Shall I hook
you up?"
"Oh, yes, I'll talk to her," said John, reaching at the
same time for the telephone and placing the receiver at
his ear.
"What? Who is it? Oh, Miss Severn?" He
could not repress this ejaculation.
The labor men looked at each other in a queer fash-
ion.
"Gentlemen," said John, "there's a person here who
wishes to talk with me privately and I'll just step into
another room," saying which, and not without a little
embarrassment he would have given the world to con-
ceal, he left them. Tom Richardson and Dickson ex-
changed glances somewhat uneasily, the others looked
out of the window, and there was a dead silence until
John Richardson came back.


CHAPTER XXXI
\17HEN Richardson returned to the room he was not
free from agitation. He had learned only a
trifle, for Kate was afraid to extend the conversation
at all both on account of the place where she was and
the place where the message would be received. The
most he had been able to make of her hurried commu-
nication was that he should refrain from any definite
step until she could meet him at six o'clock at the pa-
goda. He was being deceived, she said, by people
whom she had no doubt he was trusting and he was
about to be led into a very embarrassing step. Her
earnest manner, apparent even over the telephone, the
urgency with which she desired to talk further with
him and the very fact that she seemed to hurry to com-
municate with him by telephone, threw him into great
perplexity, so he gave her at once a promise to meet
her at six.
"You were suggesting the arrest of Severn, gentle-
men," he said as he re-entered the room.
"Yes," said Dickson.
"Now of course you have the same legal right to
arrest one man that you have another, providing you
have the proper evidence."
"Well, we've got the evidence all right."
"Though of course we don't expect this office to
Stand on technicalities," added another.
"Oh, that depends on what you mean by techni-
cs


206
THIEVES
calities, gentlemen," said Richardson. "It's a relative
term, so to speak."
"Well, everybody knows that old Severn's as deep
in the mud as Locksport is in the mire."
"Yes, that's true, but so far as this affair at the
Western Steel Works is concerned, Locksport's the
head of the institution, presumptively responsible for
everything that goes on there, whereas old Severn is
only a stockholder."
"And isn't bein' a stockholder bad enough? Ain't
stockholders responsible for these things?"
"They're not responsible simply because they are
stockholders, for although they are stockholders they
may not know anything about it. I may be, for in-
stance, or you, a stockholder in a concern a long way
off and we wouldn't be responsible. We might not
know anything about it."
"But it isn't away off, it's right here in town. Him
an' Locksport's as thick as two thieves."
"I was only illustrating the principle of the law.
What I mean," continued John, "is that simply be-
cause a man's a stockholder in a company the law does
not presume that he's responsible for the company's
actions. The directors of the company are the people
that are responsible."
"I think I see that clear enough," said Dickson.
"Well, it isn't clear to me," said the man; "there al-
ways seems to be some damned way or other where
these people can dodge the responsibility. But what do
you think about it, Mr. Richardson?"
"Why, it's a question of evidence, gentlemen. If
you show that this man Severn is not only a stock-
holder but is actually conferring with Mr. Locksport


THIEVES
207
and has aided him to take these steps and helped him
and in a manner directed him and encouraged him and
in every way participated in the design of keeping
these men prisoners there, why, that's a case, if,
of course, you have the witnesses to swear that he is
in that relation to Locksport."
"Well," said Dickson, "we've got men to swear that
Locksport's over to Severn's house every night of his
life. That's the first thing."
"And," added Tom, "his lawyer, Shortridge, is with
Locksport all the time, too."
"This Shortridge," added the third man, "bein'
more than a lawyer and a confidential adviser of old
Severn, out at his house every night, spendin' nearly
all his time there. Some people say, in love with Sev-
ern's daughter, for that matter."
"Well, what else, gentlemen?" John asked, a little
annoyed.
"Why, that all the directors in Locksport's company
are directors in banks that Severn's the principal
stockholder in, and Severn's the largest stockholder
in Locksport's company outside of Locksport himself,
and Locksport and Severn elect the board of trustees
every time."
"But," said John, "maybe Locksport has stock
enough himself to elect his own board without Sev-
ern. Hasn't he?"
"We don't know anything about that, but we know
they're the two big stockholders and the directors do
just what they say. Then this man Severn's quoted in
the newspapers as saying that he thought everything
that Locksport done down there was just right."
"There's something in that," said John, "but of


THIEVES
209
Left alone again Richardson fell to speculating upon
Kate's urgent telephoning. She had wished to deter
him from what?
"Say, Mr. Richardson," cried Eddie, rushing into
the room at this minute, "long distance wants you—
Meadville—seems to be in a great rush." John took
the receiver and it was some moments before with
the aid of Eddie he was connected with Meadville.
The voice at the other end seemed familiar.
"Who is this?"
"It's me—Hagan."
"Oh, Hagan! Didn't know you were at Mead-
ville. Well?"
"My God, John, what have you been doing? I
didn't imagine you'd take any such step as arresting
a man like Locksport without consulting me."
"Why, Hagan, how could we consult you? You
left no address."
"Then, why didn't you wait, John, until I re-
turned?"
"Because legal proof, Hagan, was submitted here.
The thing is an outrage. The whole town knows it
and these people had a right to the arrest."
"But it was a matter of tremendous importance—
testing a great public question here, with men of the
highest influence and capital on the other side."
"Well, Hagan, I'm sorry if it has annoyed you, but
I've done my duty, that's all."
"Of course you've done your duty, John, nobody
doubts that. You wouldn't be in my office if I didn't
know you were the finest fellow on earth. I'm not
scolding you a bit about it but the thing could have
waited a couple of days till my return. You knew


212
THIEVES
to quash the proceedings at once. I take all respon-
sibility for this step myself. Under the extraordinary
circumstances of the whole affair at the Western
Steel Works, the arrest of Mr. Locksport without the
fullest examination of the facts and the practical con-
currence of my entire force would be an act of injus-
tice, as an attempt on our part to decide between the
guilt and innocence of the relative parties.'"
"This is your office," said John.
"Yes, and I'm sending one or two other things of
the same kind to other papers. Now you'll dismiss
that, will you, John, right now?"
"I'll dismiss it, Hagan."
"All right. Good-by."


CHAPTER XXXII
""THE shrewd Hagan knew well what he had to
*■ depend upon in John Richardson. The latter,
incapable of deceit, was instinctively trusting, a qual-
ity which in his intercourse with strangers he had
tempered with proper circumspection, but which in
his relations with those who had been good to him
was liable to imposition. Among all the successful
politicians of what was called "the machine," Hagan
alone had given Richardson encouragement, and the
appointment he had bestowed seemed as much an act
of friendship as a recognition of influence. Richard-
son had known him since he was a boy, and, several
years younger, had always looked up to him as a man
who carried it fair with associates, for Hagan, though
a politician and not always scrupulous, bore a very
respectable name, being an attractive fellow by reason
of liberality with money, sweet temper in the office,
and a kindly willingness to let subordinates rise.
John knew, too, that the dismissal, though annoy-
ing to himself, would not be final or fatal, as the arrest
could be promptly repeated, while to refuse to act
now unless Hagan should put the order in writing,
would be an insult. He immediately called to his
desk a stenographer and one of the younger lawyers.
"Go at once and enter a dismissal of the charges
against Locksport and hand to the afternoon papers,
213


214
THIEVES
three at least of them, the statement that I am go-
ing to dictate."
He then prepared a short announcement to the pub-
lic that, being instructed through telephone from Mead-
ville, he had been at the command of Hagan required
to enter a dismissal of the charges against Locksport
until Hagan's return. Mr. Hagan's announcement to
the same effect would, he said, be added in the even-
ing or morning papers.
It being now time for luncheon, Richardson repaired
to a restaurant hard by, where he consumed his meal
in a very unamiable mind. Indeed, he almost wished
he had disobeyed his superior, and, had the latter
been at all near his own age, he undoubtedly would
have taken it upon him to do so. Upon reflection,
though, he felt satisfied that what he had done was
right. Hagan was not only the head of the office but
much older and better known in those circles in which,
after all, influence seemed at present to be determined.
Richardson, bold though he was, realized that he
himself was regarded by what is called the conserva-
tive element of the city as a fledgeling who must yet
submit to a considerable trial.
Returning to the office he exchanged a few words
with Mr. Simmons, who seemed to be in rather good
humor over the step forced upon the Assistant Com-
monwealth Attorney. Richardson, saying nothing,
applied himself to the study of the cases that he had
in hand until it was half past three o'clock.
The news was all over town and, the evening papers
issuing early editions, very little else was talked of on
the street. The proceedings against Locksport had
been quashed.


THIEVES
217
"No, John. Where in the name of God would we
get the money to pay anything. I was just hoping
that you had raised the money yourself. Do you
mean, John, that it isn't you that's paid it off?"
"No, I've paid nothing on it yet. Couldn't raise the
money."
"Why, then it's some mistake. It must be," said
Tom. "Call up those lawyers and find out about it at
once."
In a moment Richardson was telephoning to the
counsel for complainant, but he soon dropped the re-
ceiver with a mystified countenance.
"He says they were ordered to dismiss suit about
one o'clock to-day and did so immediately. That's
all they know about it."
"Well, it's some of your friends, I suppose, John,
that have paid it off, but what worries me is what
some people are going to say about this cursed coinci-
dence, as that God-forsaken newspaper says."
"Yes, Tom, there is something in just what you
say, but Hagan's statement will set those things at
rest. Now let's be cool about this thing and not lose
our heads. An honest man can't be downed by slan-
der and I've got a good many years of honest record
in this community, so just don't worry about this, Tom,
any more. That's right, sit down now, and let's talk
over some things here. You were annoyed, Tom,
weren't you, when I happened to ejaculate Miss Sev-
ern's name at the telephone this morning?"
Tom replied only with a gesture.
"Oh, I'm willing to take the subject up with you
now, Tom. I've been thinking it all over seriously.
That's a—that's a magnificent girl, Tom, but you're


THIEVES
219
we'll have that fellow Locksport arrested again if Ha-
gan doesn't take the step himself. Have you seen any
of them already?"
"Have I seen 'em? Excepting Dickson they're all
half-crazy. Wanted to come up here and raise a row,
I guess, but I kept 'em back, Dickson helping. That
statement of yours did something, but this telephoning
you from Severn's house, that foreclosure dismissal
and all this talk about selling the property to the old
man coming along with dismissing the charges against
Locksport—why, John, it makes a pretty bad mess,
that's all I've got to say."
Here they were interrupted by honest Totten.
"Too bad, too bad you had to dismiss that case, but
what can't be helped can't be. Up and at 'em again
is my maxim—"
"Thank you, Mr. Totten. Take a seat," said John.
"No, I've only got a minute or two before taking
the train to Johnstown for a day or two. Thought I
ought to step in and cheer you up."
"Badly misunderstood, I'm afraid," observed John
wearily.
"Oh, yes, yes! People will say the wrong thing, but
a man's friends have to come out then stronger than
ever, you know, stronger than ever. Good-by for a
day or two."
"Come, Tom, come. There's an old hero! Come
with me and go home for dinner, it's growing late—
and don't worry any more."
Persuading the frail brother to accompany him,
Richardson took the electric car and was soon at his
little home.


CHAPTER XXXIII
HE world would rather explain your failure by a
A general weakness than by a particular error.
While people down town discussed the events of the
day in no friendly humor towards Richardson, the
general tendency was to say that he had undertaken
something which he had not the nerve to carry out.
Some said he didn't know the law, others that he didn't
know the facts, a third group that he simply wanted to
show himself off, a fourth that he was never fitted for
the position he was in and never should have been ap-
pointed. These were the various opinions as well
among the rabble as among the bankers. In poor
spirits from such accumulated causes and mystified
particularly about the dismissal of the foreclosure,
Richardson was nevertheless a man not easily crushed,
so, though he felt that he would be accused of coward-
ice, the most disagreeable of all charges, he was able to
cheer his brother and his mother with predictions that
he would soon be as much in favor as ever he had
been.
It was now time to keep his appointment with Kate,
regarding his intercourse with whom in the future he
had made up his mind. What he had said to his
brother about breaking off this acquaintance he really
meant.
Punctually was the appointment kept by both.
Watching from his porch, Richardson did not start to


THIEVES
221
the pagoda until he could see Kate also on her way
through clumps of bushes to the trysting-place, and,
when he preceded her there, he was immediately struck
by her appearance. A light-hearted look had gone
out of her face, where trouble was beginning to write
its cruel lines. She had a hurried manner, and for
the first time in her life an anxious air. The in-
famous schemes she had overheard, the dishonorable
disclosures of the morning, the necessity she felt under
of leaving sooner or later her father's home rather
than endure a degrading and irritating companionship,
all these, united to the troubles of the man whom she
loved and to whom she could not reveal all that she
ought to tell, imposed both worry and sadness.
"You—you look very much troubled."
"I am afraid I am troubled, Mr. Richardson. I
want to tell you something. I—I—want to—"
"Better sit down here."
"Yes—yes, but only for a minute. I feel terribly
hurried. We're to have an entertainment to-night
and I'm sorry to say I'm not—not at all in a condition
to attend it. There's something—something I have
to tell you."
"Yes, Miss Severn."
"I scarcely know how to—to begin."
"Yes, I know just what you mean, Miss Severn, and
I'll spare you the trouble of telling it to me. It's
about me, isn't it?"
"Partly—partly not."
"Miss Severn, I—I want to be frank. I want to
tell you something I ought to have been telling you.
I am older than you, not many years, of course, but
I have much more in experience of the world. I


222
THIEVES
shouldn't have been having this acquaintance with you.
It couldn't do you any good. I know your father has
at last interfered."
"Oh, no, not that. No, you mistake. That isn't
the trouble."
Looking relieved in spite of himself, John contin-
ued: "Yes, but it will be. It will be the trouble
soon. All this can only be harmful to you."
"Oh, don't let's talk about that, please. It isn't
necessary to talk about anything of that sort. Some-
thing very sad has happened in our house—something
I can't tell you about."
"I thought you wanted to tell me about it."
"Oh, no, not that. It's still another thing. It's
something I overheard—something maybe I shouldn't
have listened to, but I did listen to and I think—I
know—I ought to tell you about, though I don't think
I can tell everything that I heard. I do want you to
feel that I'm not an eavesdropper. I almost feel like
one, but it was in my father's house and I stumbled
on it only by accident. It concerns you and—don't
ask me who—whom I heard, but I heard it."
Then with halting words and eyes cast down, omit-
ting only the unclean scheme about the woman, she
told him the greater part. Richardson, thanking
her tenderly at each pause in her revelations, was
equally moved by love and incensed by indignation.
Every accent of the girl disclosed to him that her agi-
tation on his account was intense. She told him how
much she had wished to come to his very office at
once, how much she had longed to write a note, how
much even over the telephone she had desired to tell
him all and, when from John's lips she now heard that


224
THIEVES
while the girl with her head aside looked in deep
trouble across the river. He felt obliged, for his part,
to relieve her of any embarrassment whatever.
"Miss Severn, I have to come back to the subject
and say what I said before, that I must be a source of
trouble to you. I—I don't know just why it was that
you and I seemed to—rather like to talk with each
other, but of course I began to feel a little while ago—
well, almost immediately—that with all the differences
of wealth here, the tremendous difference in our friends
and associates, and these doctrines of mine and my poor
brother's, anything like a frank, open acquaintance,
that is to say an acquaintance, one■might express it,
in the regular way, is out of the question."
She hung her head, but made a little gesture as if
to stay him. Conquering a mighty impulse to seize
her hand, Richardson went on.
"Now, there's to-morrow. It's Friday, you know,
and we were to have that walk together again. I
thought about that. It won't do, will it? Don't an-
swer me. I know it won't do."
Poor Kate yielded to a slight, tremulous shrug of the
shoulders, a trifling petulance and the faintest air of
being hurt, but he happened not to see it, for he was
looking sadly at the ground. It was a little protest
of hers against fate rather than against him.
"I must go now," she said, and they rose together,
each wishing to speak and yet not knowing what to
say. He held out his right hand, which she slowly
filled with hers. Then he held out the left hand,
and she, looking down, gave him the other, too. He
pressed them slightly until, in spite of herself, she
ventured to raise her eyes. With one deep, one part-


CHAPTER XXXIV
that Asmodeus could have peered this unhappy
^ day through the roof of Severn! Oh, for his
gibes and grins as he would have chuckled to Don
Cleofas over the mockery of happiness in the house of
riches. The wrangling servants, the saddened daugh-
ter, the deceitful lawyer, the grumbling father, the
unfaithful wife quaking at exposure, all, all, summed
up the vanity of wealth.
Mysterious now was the whispering among the
servants, those who gaped to know receiving eagerly
a hint or word from those that pretended to know,
the cause of Nora's red eyes, Miss Kate's altered
looks, and, above all, Mrs. Severn's taking herself to
bed at eleven in the morning with a sudden headache
and rumored hysterics. Wattles, supreme in gravity
and supposed to hold the key to all the secrets, would
impart even to the second butler only an elevation
of the eyebrows and a compression of the lips.
That the mistress of the house would not be able
to receive the guests that night became plain by lunch-
eon, when Peter Pangloss Smith declared to her irri-
tated spouse that her leaving her bed would be a rash
act for which, as the family medical adviser, he begged
in advance to be held not responsible. Mrs. Severn,
he reminded him, was a woman of exceptionally deli-
cate nervous organization. In fact, he had never met
a lady in whom the sympathetic part of the nervous
226


THIEVES
227
system lay so near the surface, so bare to external irri-
tation, so easily jangled, so slow to recomposure.
As for this lady, such spirit as she had been able to
rally on leaving Kate's boudoir suffered in a moment
the violent reaction natural to what she had just
passed through and what she had yet to fear. Bad
herself, she would not trust the promises even of
Kate about secrecy. What, then, must she apprehend
from the loose-mouthed maid? Hating the servant
who had discovered her wickedness and hating still
more the generous stepdaughter who was willing to
shield her, she vented her first rage on her own maid,
tore off her outer garments, and, flinging herself on
her bed, cried out for Dr. Smith, while she fairly
screamed at the girl's delay in unlacing her shoes.
The maid, who had never heard, even in the best
families of New York, so many bad words of a sud-
den, had the good sense to give her mistress some-
thing from a bottle which, always kept in the closet,
contained one of Dr. Smith's favorite prescriptions,
with an odor singularly resembling that of medicines
prescribed where the sale of whiskey has been forbid-
den by law. Then she offered a cup of strong tea,
which the mistress spurned because a drop had been
splashed on the saucer, a sight, she cried, that the
stupid creature ought to have known no refined woman
could stand. Equally was she in rage because the
girl, having taken off the shoes, had failed to carry
them out of the room. "Do you suppose a nice woman
like me wants her shoes in the room with the warmth
of the feet still in them? What kind of a training
have you had, you blockhead?" It was an hour be-
fore Dr. Smith arrived and ended all this commotion,


228
THIEVES
such are the wonders of science, with the point of a lit-
tle needle.
The receiving of the guests devolving upon Kate,
she was far from a genial hostess, depressed by her
parting with Richardson no less than by the shame that
lay upstairs and seemed to blacken every wall in the
house. Her appearance from little sleep the night be-
fore did not escape notice, for, if we might adapt the
great poet's line, care sat on her blooming cheek. In
her mind was the resolution that she would not live
longer under the roof of Miriam Severn, a purpose it-
self sufficient to disturb her deeply, since it would
involve trouble with her father without adequate ex-
planation.
Over the hedge the Richardsons ate their dinner in
silence, nor did Tom remain long afterwards. The
mother, much worried, went early to bed. John, lin-
gering till midnight over some books on which he
could ill fix his thoughts, lay down at last to sleep
after an unhappy glance at the great house, its lights
of revelry, and its music of joy.


CHAPTER XXXV
TT was a card party at the Severns' that night and
the game ran high. By eleven o'clock bridge had
given way at most of the tables to poker, and tiny for-
tunes had been won and lost when a pause was an-
nounced for refreshments. Old Severn, delighted at
the repulse of the labor element in the dismissal of the
proceedings against Locksport, beamed while he wad-
dled from guest to guest. "Fill these glasses again,
Dobbins," he would say.
"I raise you twenty," cried one of the ladies.
"Coming back at me, eh? Tenth Commandment,
'Do unto others,' and so forth."
"You silly thing, that isn't a Commandment!"
"Bet you it is! God, what nerve on your hand!"
responded one of the gentlemen.
"'Tis not a Commandment.—Mrs. G. over there is
getting full earlier than usual.—The Commandments
are all about adultery."
"Get a prayer-book and see. I see your twenty
and raise it back."
"Bet you there's not a prayer-book in the house."
"You don't know how many Commandments there
are, anyway."
"Of course I do," said she. "There's twelve, you
stupid. Stop that! There's money on this game.
You've got to play according to rule."

229


THIEVES
"I think so. Big navy appropriation. Large pen-
sion bill proposed."
"Pension!" cried one of the ladies. "What in the
world have we got to do with pensions?"
"The more money that's spent, the more need for
tariff," replied the statesman. "Isn't that so, Mr. Sev-
ern?"
"Looks that way to me," Severn answered. "Shame
the way people attack those pensions. I believe in the
old soldiers."
"Me, too."
"I suppose they'll be after another income tax this
session," remarked one of the gentlemen. "Telling
us we owe it to our country to chip in. Bleedin' us
all the time."
"I'd like to know what our country ever did for
us," said Severn, the owner of forty millions. "It's
taxes, taxes, taxes all the time. Looks as if some of
us would have to live in Europe, but let's draw our
chairs around here and have a bite to eat, half a dozen
of us. Oh, how d'ye do, Mr. Locksport?"
"Poor old Locksport! By Jove, that was a shame,
old man!"
"Draw your chair in here, Locksport. They didn't
have you penned up more than three seconds, did
they?"
"Not on your life!"
"How's Mrs. Locksport to-night? Heard about that
operation."
"Very much better, thank you. Very much indeed!
I had a devil of a time of it. You know, she would
have nobody operate on her except McGonegal of Chi-
cago. To get him here quick, I had him brought on


THIEVES
a special train you probably read about. By the way,
somewhere in Indiana they were going about eighty
miles an hour when some infernal woman crossed the
track, crossed in the night, do you hear? Got hit, of
course, and my train had to stop. Killed her, natu-
rally, at that speed. Do you know, the train was de-
tained there two hours and my wife sick here in Pitts-
burgh. Who was paying for that train, I'd like to
know? McGonegal even wanted to go back there and
do something for the woman that was hit. I'd like
to know what she was doing there on the track. Who
was paying the railroad? Who was paying McGon-
egal, me or her, I'd like to know? You know, I didn't
quite like that in McGonegal."
"Why, the delay might have cost Mrs. Locksport her
life," observed Severn.
"Yes, and it damned near did cost her her life, if
you'll excuse me saying it that way, ladies. The rail-
road's bill for the train was twenty-five hundred dol-
lars. I say again, I'd like to know who had a right
on the track there except me?"
"The country's getting into bad shape. Everybody's
afraid of what they call the people," continued Lock-
sport. "Everybody's wanting more pay, more wages,
all the time. Seems as if they want to get everything
away from us."
"I should say so," another added. "Last Christ-
mas I just heard in time that my clerks were all going
to ask me for an increase. They thought I was going
to be in town that Christmas, and I just simply got out
of the city—headed 'em off, so to speak."
At this point Kate left them and, mingling with the
guests, came suddenly upon Shortridge. She bowed


THIEVES
235
fortunes that would keep hunger away from the
mouths of a hundred families in a single night.
"I know what I'm talking about," she continued,
growing mote and more excited. "I've been through
it, been through it in the past three or four days. I've
seen them starving, do you hear? I've seen them
starving."
Here she stamped her foot with some emphasis, her
cheeks growing warmer all the while and her eyes
flashing.
"You, there, Charlie Hudson, you're a nice one
to talk about the extravagance of workmen and the
like, aren't you, with a million turned up under your
plate by your own father, without your lifting your
hand to earn it? We're a nice lot to be arguing
here to-night about a cent an hour's increase in work-
ingmen's wages, when we drink up champagne, every
bubble of which is worth a cent—yes, every tiny, mis-
erable little bubble is worth a penny, but you splash
it about by the bucketful! And you, Teddy Hillman,
what were you doing the other day but boasting that
you were throwing dice for an automobile at every
throw? And then we talk about the extravagance of
workmen, do we? How would you like to work one
hour to gain one cent? How would you like to spend
twelve or fourteen hours in one of those mills and
keep it up for seven days in the week and go home to
a sick wife and half a dozen children? And then you
all stand here and say a man can be bought and is cor-
rupt that you've never set eyes on in your life, simply
because he thinks that some of these wretched people
ought to get a little more than they have, while you're
rioting—yes, rioting here to-night in luxury!"


236
THIEVES
Her voice growing louder and clearer all the
while, the scene she was creating had attracted the at-
tention of many others in the room who had slowly
been crowding around the little circle. A general
whisper ran through the apartment that something ex-
traordinary was occurring.
"Where do we all spring from that are here to-night
looking so fine, I'd like to know? Who was your
ancestor, Mr. Ringer? He was a puddler, wasn't he,
or something of that sort, about sixty years ago—and
maybe a shorter time, wasn't it? And you, there, Mr.
Hillman—"
"What's the matter here? What's the matter
here?" It was the voice of Severn, making his way
through the little crowd to the side of his daughter.
"What's the matter here, Kate?"
"Nothing," she replied; "I'm going upstairs without
apology to anybody." She turned upon her heel and
rapidly left the room.
"What's the matter here?" asked Severn of Ringer.
"Mamie, what's all this about? I heard some of it
and I want to hear the rest." jjtik
"Oh, nothing," replied Ringer.
"We were just hearing our records," added Hill-
man.
"We had the misfortune to make some unpleasant
remark about Mr. Richardson down here, for his hav-
ing arrested Mr. Locksport," said Mamie, "but I
wouldn't mind it a bit, if I were you, Mr. Severn.
Don't you think, Louise, we've played long enough to-
night? Suppose we go."
The wrath of Severn now became great. He fumed


THIEVES
237
while he limped among his guests, and apologizing here
and there and getting additional scraps of Kate's re-
marks from those who were willing to tattle and who
invariably made it worse, he was beside himself with
rage, which, however, he had to keep within some
bounds until his guests had departed.
Locksport and Shortridge were the last to go.
"The devil will be to pay to-night," said the former,
"so I'll get out at once. Glad you communicated so
promptly with Hagan. Be down to-morrow morning
for sure, you say."
"Yes, I told him he'd have to come down. This
dismissal might not stand. So he'll be in my office
to-morrow morning. Good night, old man! Ah, Mr.
Severn, just going to bid you good night. Sorry Mrs.
Severn's laid up!"
"What's all this about the girl back here and this
fellow Richardson?" cried Severn. "Just wait a min-
ute here, now, Shortridge. I want to talk to you."
Upon this they sat down, the old man breathing
rapidly.
"Some of .you people," resumed Severn, "must know
something awout this thing. This girl's been defend-
ing this fellow Richardson and all these fellows for
some time past. Now to-night she makes a big scene.
People don't break loose that way without some reason
for it."
"I suppose not."
"Well, what do you know about it? Do you know
anything?"
"Oh, I don't know, Mr. Severn," replied the cautious
Shortridge, who, though he bore the girl no particular


THIEVES
good-will, was even-tempered in things of this kind
and did not like to stir up trouble that might involve
himself.
"Well, now if you know anything, I'm entitled to
know it too. Do you hear? Right this minute too.
This thing's going to be investigated from the bot-
tom."
"Oh, wait until to-morrow, Mr. Severn."
"No, sir, no to-morrow at all! It's going to be out
to-night, the whole business. You're hesitating there.
You know something, I can see it."
"Well, all I know is this, Mr. Severn. The other
day when I went to have a talk with Richardson at his
house, I met him down there at the little pagoda."
"Well?"
"Why, Kate was there with him."
"The hell she was!" cried the old man. "Talking
to him, you mean—sitting there with him? Talking
to him?"
"Yes, she was there. I don't know whether she had
been sitting down or not, but she'd been talking to
him."
"Oh, she was, was she? Oh, she was, eh? Uh?"
"Now, Mr. Severn, don't get excited. The whole
matter doesn't amount to anything, I think."
"You just keep quiet. Just leave that to me. And
who else knows this?"
"Why, I don't know especially. Don't know as
anybody does. Why, yes, I might say Mrs. Severn—
she knows something about it. I think she and I spoke
of it to each other."
"Well, by God!" cried the old man. "And this un-


THIEVES
239
der my roof! Right under my nose! Just wait here
—just wait here. Don't you leave this house now till
I come back."
With that he hobbled upstairs, cursing every step
of the way, made his way to Kate's room and pounded
thunderingly upon the door of her outer apartment.
She, having made up her mind to have no scene with
him that night, made no response, in consequence of
which, fearing that Shortridge might betake himself
away, he hobbled down again.
"It'll be a warm day for her to-morrow," he re-
sumed, pouring out one oath after another. "What
kind of a man have you been to keep this thing quiet
from me? Do you suppose I want ingrates in the
house? What do I pay you for? To keep things
like this from me, that are more important than a mil-
lion dollars!"
It was half an hour before he was under any con-
trol at all, at the end of which time Shortridge made
his escape, promising the old gentleman to discuss the
whole affair with him tranquilly the next day.
But Severn had not done with it yet. He now
made his way upstairs again and hurrying to his wife's
rooms, which adjoined his own, threw the apartment
into a blaze of light with the turn of an electric but-
ton.
"What's this Shortridge's been telling me?"
"What—what's this?" ejaculated the startled
woman, aroused from sleep.
"Do you hear what I say? What's this Short-
ridge's been telling me? What's this you've been keep-
ing from me?"


242
THIEVES
I'm not tellin' what I know, sor. All I have to say
of your mistress is, that she's the lowest woman that
walks the strates of the town.' That's all the satisfac-
tion he got out of me, that wan."
"Sure, an' I knew the sacret would be safe with
you, Mrs. McFadden, an' oh, poor Kate—you'll excuse
me blubberin' here before ye, Mrs. McFadden, but
whin I think of her up there this minute wid that old
man! Sure I thought his rheumatism was becomin'
so chronical with him he'd not be able to hop around
the house in this way to make trouble for everybody
in it, but I guess the old villun's recoverin'."
"God forbid it, Nora. Annyway, he may have a re-
lapse, there's nothin' so dangerous as recoverin'. But
there's her bell this minit."
"Oh, the poor craturel I'm flyin', Mrs. McFad-
den, I'm flyin'."
Kate Severn during another sleepless night had pre-
pared to meet her father. His pounding upon the
door she had paid no attention to at night, but now
she responded to his knock at ten in the morning.
The old man flung open the unlocked door to face
a character pliable indeed to love, but as dogged and
determined as his own in the face of opposition or in-
justice. Sputtering and blowing from excitement he
surveyed her for a moment and then exclaimed:
"So you've been disgracing me, have you?" No
response.
"Do you hear me? You've been disgracing me,
have you?"
"That's what you say." She sat down in an arm-
chair and looked out of the window without the slight-
est expression of thought, feeling, or emotion.


THIEVES
"You thought you'd keep on fooling me all the time,
did you?' No response.
"You thought I'd be stupid enough never to find
this all out, did you?" No response.
"You're in love, are you, with this skunk down
here?"
"I never said so, did I?"
"Oh, you don't need to say so. Your actions speak
louder than words. I'm just as smart as you, you
hussy, and I know what's been going on. This is the
cause of all these fine speeches of yours, all this solici-
tude about the public welfare, the rights of the poor,
and what not, uh? The next thing was to run away
with him, wasn't it, eh? I guess you'll find I'm just
as smart as you are, just as smart as that treacherous
dynamiter of yours. Oh, it's a fine piece of business,
the way you've helped him, helped him try to ruin
your father. Do you know there's a strike declared
this morning at my mills? Do you hear what I say?
The strike's on at our mills, too?"
"I know nothing about it."
"No, nor you don't care, do you, sitting there look-
ing out of the window, and ashamed to answer me,
ashamed to look your father in the face, but I'll get
even with you, you hussy! I know it all now, I know
every word of it. I suspected it. Meeting him down
the road here and what not—oh, you haven't told me
all, but I know it, I know all you've been doing, every
word of it. You haven't made a move but I knew
about it. Don't keep hoping there that I don't know
it all."
"That saves me the trouble of telling it."
"You'll be impudent to me, too, will you? You'll


244 THIEVES
v
try'to use me tne way you have your stepmother,
that's been concealing all this from me to try to save
you."
"I'm much obliged to her."
• ^"Oh, you are, are you? You'd have her put out of
the house this minute, and her doing everything she
can to save you. Denied to my face last night, she
did, that you knew the fellow at all, said it was all
false when I had the whole story from Shortridge him-
self. She's been the best stepmother any girl ever had
and what have you shown her but ingratitude and
abuse, impudence and smart little smiles and sniffs?
But I'll take all that out of you before I'm through
with you."
"You can begin now, then."
"I'll lock you up with just bread and water for a
week! I'll turn you out of doors without a penny!"
"Do what you please."
"I'll turn you out of doors without a penny, I tell
you. Oh, you think you're smart and brave, don't
you? You'll find what it is to go out and earn your
own living. You'll find what it is not to have a dollar
to your name."
"I suppose I can keep what mother left me."
"Oh, ho! that's what you're thinkin' about, is it?
That's made you so smart and brave. Why, it
wouldn't buy you an automobile. YouM be a pauper.
You'd have to drive your own car. «You wouldn't
have more than one maid. You'd be a. pauper. So
you think that's going to make you fat and rich, do
you, that little pittance! Just enough to have you
running about here with people that have only one car
and a servant or two. Oh, you'll find that fine after


THIEVES 245
all this .luxury, won't you, and your friends cutting
you, Miss Impudence, you ungrateful hussy!"
"I think I can stand it. if you can."
"Shut your mouth, you impudent thing! I suppose
he heard about this, this Richardson, heard about tms
little bit of money and wants to get his hands on that.
Why, it wouldn't buy him a bath!" Go and spend it
and give him a bath, that's the first thing he needs.
Give him a bath, the low skunk!"
"Here, take your house! Take your filthy riches!"
she cried, springing to her feet and goaded at last be-
yond endurance. "There's my clothes in the closet
there—take them! Take them! I don't want them.
I'd rather work with my hands than stay in this house.
Do you want my rings? Do you want my rings?
Here, take this—and this!"
She was now flinging upon the floor rubies and
pearls and diamonds.
"And take these too, if you want them! Take
them! Do you want them? Do you hear me, do you
want them?"
With this she flung down a small casket of jewels
snatched from her dressing-table. They bounded
along the polished floor and were lost in rugs, in pil-
lows, and in the tapestry.
"What do I want with all this? What is it to me
but wretchedness here every day? Yes, do you want
them? Do you want them? Do you want my rings
and clothes and shoes? Do you hear me? Do you
hear me?"
The old sinner backed toward the door before her
flashing eyes, for never had he had to face a rage so
utterly regardless of himself.


246
THIEVES
"I'll be out of your house! I'll be out of it soon
enough, you needn't worry about me!" she cried. "I'll
take care of myself."
"Oh, ho!" retorted he, rallying a little. "So that's
your game, is it? So you'd be off, eh? You want to
be with him, I suppose! Suits you well to leave your
father's house, does it? Well, I'll fix that! You'll
be on the broad seas in the next thirty-six hours, if I
have to lock you up and put you on bread and water
and have two policemen carry you to the pier. I'll
have no scene with you. That's what you want, but
I'll let you see who's boss in this house, you—you dis-
graceful hussy, bringing shame on me before a house-
ful of people! You'd better pick up your rings," he
continued as he passed out of the door, "you'll need
them! You'll need them [ You'll have to pawn them
to live on before you're much older. You'll be on
your way to Europe, too, just as fast as I can pack
you, bag and baggage, and I'll see where you're locked
up so that no sneaking fox'll come round where you
are!"
With this he left the room, satisfied to make a par-
tial triumph and to invent a course of action more se-
vere. The daughter, recovering from her fit of pas-
sion, suffered no relapse into hysterics or tears, as a
weaker nature might have done, but calming herself by
degrees sat down after some angry pacing of the room
to meditate self-defense for the future.
Calling Nora, she bade her accompany her to town,
ordering at once her own automobile, and she permit-
ted, though she did not request, the maid to pick up
the jewel box and the scattered gems. Her first errand
must be at Shortridge's office to get her legacy, where-


THIEVES
247
upon she would draw from the bank every dollar.
She would next arrange with her Cousin Julia or Aunt
Emma to stay at either of their houses. From one of
these citadels she would bid defiance to her father.


CHAPTER XXXVII
JOHN RICHARDSON rose early on Friday morn-
ing, for even in sleep his mind had been too much
troubled for long repose. The first thing that he
hurried tc0see was the morning newspaper, where
to his chagrin he found not a word from Hagan.
On the way to town he bought other papers, in
none of which did any announcement from his su-
perior appear, and when at last he did discover one
such, his vexation became the greater. It was only
a short dispatch from the Commonwealth Attorney
to the effect that, having heard of the dismissal of
the Locksport charges, he was glad Mr. Richardson
had seen fit at once to take that step. For himself,
it continued, he would reinvestigate the charges on
his return, the whole dispatch conveying the impres-
sion that this was the first he had heard about the
affair. This news item, John noticed, bore the date-
line of Erie and not of Meadville.
Nor in his office did he find any communication from
Hagan, though he inquired from nearly everybody
whether any had been received. Slow to anger, he at
last began to feel a burning resentment. Honesty
would be deceived by credulity no longer.
Dickson and Tom Richardson were the first to make
their appearance.
"You see how you've been treated, John," said Tom.
"I don't suppose it's necessary to say anything."
248


THIEVES
249
"No, I think not, Tom."
"I suppose you've heard of the strike in Severn's
mills this morning, Mr. Richardson?" remarked Dick-
son.
"Yes, and I'm not very sorry for it."
"Most of the men here, as you know, Mr. Richard-
son, are terribly out of humor with you about this
Locksport business, but I want you to feel that you've
not lost the confidence of me."
"Thank you, Dickson. I want to tell you that the
others will not lose their confidence in me, either. I
suppose they're feeling pretty unkindly towards me
now."
"Yes, I'm sorry to say, yes, honestly they are, and
we haven't been able to hold them down at all. This
strike at Severn's was precipitated immediately after
they heard that Locksport wasn't even going to be
tried. Of course they hook old Severn up with all
these troubles of ours."
"You asked me yesterday whether I would have
Severn arrested," continued John, "and I don't want
to be misunderstood one way or the other. I'm sorry
to say I'm not in a humor for talking about any step
forward just now until I clear up a little matter here
of my own. But now that you're here, I want you to
feel sure of just two things. I'll not have him ar-
rested unless I have adequate evidence prepared, and
certainly I will have him arrested if I have adequate
evidence. All this is based upon the supposition that
I'm allowed to do anything at all. You see the situa-
tion."
"No word from Hagan of when he is coming
back?"


, 250 THIEVES
"No."
"Well, Mr. Richardson, if Mr. Hagan doesn't turn
up by to-morrow morning, you'll have the pleasure,
or whatever it may be, of having old man Severn
arrested, because we're not going to stop."
"The boys are dead sure and fixed on that thing,
John," added Tom.
At this moment the voice of Eddie arguing in the
hall was heard through the half-open door.
"Aw, what's the matter with you? I'll not pay you
the twenty-five cents. Think I'm a National Bank?"
"Well, they told me to collect from you," said an-
other boy, at which some warm words being ex-
changed, John called from his room that Eddie come
in and explain.
"This here kid's come over from Shortridge's office
to get some papers—a messenger—wants me to pay
the charges here. Why don't they pay 'em them-
selves?"
"What papers does he want?" asked John. "Tell
him to come in here. What papers do you want,
boy?"
"Says he wants the papers about Locksport's arrest
to take over to Shortridge," Eddie interposed. "Him
and Hagan want to talk about it."
"Hagan?"
"Yes. Mr. Hagan's over there."
"Over where?"
"Over at Shortridge's office. This muff couldn't
make things clear so I had to telephone over there to
Shortridge's office and they told me Mr. Hagan and
Mr. Shortridge were waitin' for the papers, to hurry
up."


THIEVES
251
John had already sprung from his chair. Hagan,
it appeared was now in town and had gone to the
office of the general enemy rather than to his own.
"You get those papers, Eddie," said he quietly but
firmly, "and bring them over there and hand them to
me first. I'm going over there ahead of you," saying
which he was out of the room.
"There's going to be trouble over there, Dickson,"
said Tom gravely. "John's in a humor when nobody
ought to fool with him. I think we'd better hurry
over to that office ourselves and kind o' sit in the
hall there on some business or other till we see what's
up."
"I guess we had," Dickson responded, following him
out of the door.


CHAPTER XXXVIII
A N honest man's wrath is the terror of knaves.
When John Richardson bolted into the door of
Shortridge's private room, he did so without knock-
ing or warning of any kind, and three men whom he
confronted hung their heads in uneasiness and shame,
Shortridge, Hagan and Locksport. The presence of
Locksport was all that was needed to inflame the mind
of the injured man.
"Why, how d'ye do this morning, Mr. Richard-
son!" exclaimed Shortridge.
"I'm pretty well, thank you."
Locksport, pretending to no acquaintance with Rich-
ardson, made no observation or greeting, and Hagan
was slow to rally.
"I'll be over at the office, John, in a little bit," he
said. "The boys called me in here, Shortridge and
Mr. Locksport, as I was coming down town."
"I thought I'd save you the trouble, Hagan."
"Oh, yes, that's all right, John, I'll be over there."
"Well, what can I do for you, Mr. Richardson?"
asked Shortridge.
"I don't think there's anything you can do for me
yourself, particularly, thank you, Mr. Shortridge,"
replied John, turning his eyes on Hagan, who began
to hang his head.
There was silence a moment and then John added,
252


THIEVES
253
"I wanted to talk with you, Hagan, and I'd just as
lief talk with you before these gentlemen."
"Well, now, John," cried the other shiftily, and with
a tone of trifling irritation, "I'm busy here as you see.
I'll be over there in the office in a minute."
"We'll talk of it here just the same."
The other men looking at Hagan in a way that
seemed to call upon him for some exertion of courage,
he turned his head abruptly and, attempting to face
John, though not rising from his chair, retorted:
"Now, see here, I don't like this, John. I told you
I'd be over there in a few minutes and that's all I want
to talk about it now."
"I should think Mr. Hagan would know his own
business," remarked Locksport.
"And you, for your part, had better mind yours,"
said John sternly.
"Oh, see here, now, Richardson," interposed Short-
ridge suavely but in a tone of some firmness, "that
sort of thing won't do, you know, old man."
"I'm attending to this myself," said John. "Hagan,
have you lied to me?"
"What's that?" cried Hagan, who, however, did not
rise from his chair.
"Hagan, you telephoned me from Meadville yester-
day afternoon to dismiss those charges and you would
file a statement, copy of which you read to me, for the
papers, and relieve me of the responsibility of dis-
missing a charge that I had begun myself. Now that's
true, isn't it?"
"No, sir—that is, no, no. No, John, there's some
mistake here now. Meadville? I don't know any-
thing about Meadville. I haven't been in Meadville."


254
THIEVES
"Why, Richardson, I can show you right now,"
broke in Shortridge, "that I was talking to Mr. Hagan
from Erie myself, over the telephone last night and
induced him to come down here on the night train
so as to be here this morning, the fact being, you
know, Richardson," here he made a pleasant little
politic, laugh, "you're so forceful and restless in this
matter I had to call Hagan down here to try to tame
you down. Now, I think that helps to clear things up
a bit."
"I got a telephone message from you, Hagan,"
John continued without once taking his eyes from
him, "and I talked with you myself at Meadville, and
you said what I say you said, didn't you?"
"No, John, you're mistaken. I ought to be very
angry with you, I confess, the way you're taking me
to task, but I know you're excited about some of these
events and you know I think a great deal of you.
Now I haven't been to Meadville, and I didn't tele-
phone you at all. Somebody else has been using that
wire and working you that way."'
It flashed through Richardson's mind that some-
body, inspired by scoundrels like Locksport and
Shortridge might have used the telephone in Ha-
gan's name and, while Hagan might admit his friend-
liness to the other faction as well as their having
importuned him by wire, he still had it open to him
to say that he had never telephoned to Richardson.
The situation was the more perplexing because the
voice cannot always be positively distinguished in the
telephone. Notwithstanding he gave only a mo-
ment's credence to this thought he began to feel his
proofs slipping away from him, nor would he have


THIEVES
255
had the moral courage to proceed further had it not
been for the shifty manner of Hagan. In short, he
was in a poor situation to prove a lie when the door
was opened by Eddie.
This youth, who bore that mingled sweetness and
impudence peculiar to our urchins, was a type out of
whom many leaders have been evolved in the strife
of commerce. When he reached the office of Short-
ridge he told the clerk who met him that he had orders
to deliver the documents to Richardson himself, so
he was permitted to step into the private room without
further ceremony.
"Here's them papers, Mr. Richardson!"
Richardson took them in his hand, motioning to the
lad to retire.
"Yes, hurry up and shut the door there," said Short-
ridge.
"Say, Mr. Hagan," asked Eddie turning at the
door, "telephone office wants to know who to charge
that—that phone of yours from Meadville to, to Mr.
Richardson yesterday."
Hagan, who had partly recovered his composure,
was able to mutter something of an oath and to wave
his hand impatiently.
"Never mind that," he said. "Run along there."
"Hagan," said Richardson slowly, as the door closed
behind the boy, "I'll give you just three minutes to
sign a writing here absolving me of any blame and as-
suming responsibility for that dismissal. You will
sign it right here."
"Now, see here, Mr. Shortridge," interrupted Lock-
sport, stepping forward, "this sort of thing it seems
to me has got to stop in a gentleman's office. What's


256
THIEVES
all this bully-ragging about here? This is your office,
isn't it?"
Shortridge nodded but he was doing something else,
for under his desk was a wire which directly connected
it with a police station close by and he had already
touched the button.
"I think, Mr. Richardson, you're showing yourself
a bit hasty here. Mr. Hagan's in my office and is en-
titled to respectful treatment."
"He'll get it, but he'll get it only on one condition!"
cried Richardson.
"Well, I'll be damned!" said Locksport. "What
sort of thing is this?"
"You keep quiet, Locksport!" Richardson retorted
determinedly.
"Do you know who you're talking to?" asked Lock-
sport in a furious tone. "What do you mean by this
talk in this office? You ought to be thrown in the
street!"
He had hardly uttered the words when Richardson
with one blow felled him to the floor.
The world will be old before one man's striking
another is fully divested of the tragic and the sub-
lime. All four were for a moment dead still. Then
Hagan and Shortridge assisted the bruised financier
to his feet and several moments passed in which no-
body knew just what to do between the humiliation
of Locksport and the fright of his two friends, who
were too much afraid of Richardson's angry attitude
to tell him what they thought of him. Finally the
latter resumed:
"You're going to sign that, are you, Hagan?"
Hagan looked uneasily at Locksport, already con-


THIEVES
257
quered, and at Shortridge unwilling to enter the
battle.
"Why, Richardson, this is all the damnedest piece
of business I ever heard of. You know I never
dodged any responsibility in my life."
"Are you going to sign that, Hagan? Here's a
piece of paper, now. Are you going to sign it or
not?"
At this moment the door was thrown open by
two mermidons of the law.
"What's this row about here?"
"Just take care of this gentleman!" cried Short-
ridge.
"Take him in hand there at once," said Hagan, and
before John could offer resistance, he was seized
from behind and was in the hall, the gentlemen in
uniform dragging him toward the outward door. At
this juncture they were themselves surprised from the
rear by both Tom Richardson and Dickson, in the
midst of which aid Richardson, freeing himself, was
able to bound back and deliver Hagan two hand-
some punches in the face. By this time the officers
had drawn the disagreeable weapons with which they
are always armed and which generally serve them to
good purpose. Laying about them heartily, they
brought their opponents to time in a moment or two
and were able to carry the prisoner off to captivity,
followed by Dickson, Tom Richardson, and a volley
of oaths.


CHAPTER XXXIX
OARDLY had this crowd left the office of Short-
* ^ ridge when Kate Severn arrived. The rooms
were in confusion. With Nora, who accompanied
her, she gazed in wonder upon overturned chairs,
scattered papers, and a bevy of excited clerks.
Through a door ajar into Shortridge's room came the
angry voices of men.
"You have that infernal scoundrel behind the bars
this night, Hagan, or I'll know why," came from
Locksport.
"I think I've got as good cause as you," added
Hagan. "Why in the devil hasn't that cab of mine
arrived downstairs? Tell that boy again. I can't go
through the streets looking like this."
"It's your fault, Shortridge," resumed Locksport.
"If you hadn't been so cursed politic with him to begin
with, he wouldn't have had the nerve—"
"To make damned fools of both of us the way he
has," interrupted Hagan, "but I'll fix him, curse him,
the infernal ingrate! He never could have got into
that office except for my weakness! He thinks he'll
get off with a mere assault and battery, I suppose, but
I'll fix him on something worse."
"I saw him grab a paper-weight," said Locksport.
"You saw him too, Shortridge."
"I believe I did."
"No believe about it—you did see him and you
258


THIEVES
259
know it! I don't see what you're so cursed politic
about in this thing for all the time. We get tired of
policy. Can't play policy all the time with a man like
Richardson. The infernal ruffian!"
"I'll have him up for assault with a dangerous
weapon," said Hagan, "and he'll not find it easy to get
bail for that."
"If he gets out on bail," cried Locksport, "I'll lay
it to your office. Now understand that. That fellow's
to be locked up. We'll let him soak in a cell."
Here a boy announced that the cab was below for
the gentlemen, and Kate, hearing them emerge from
the room, retired with Nora into the office of young
Bolton, who, seated upon a desk, was discussing the
row. The other clerk immediately left the room and
Kate drew from Bolton, a very easy task, some ac-
count of what had taken place.
"Can they do anything with him—I mean punish
him in any particular way?" asked Kate.
"Well, I hardly think so, between you and me. Of
course, he made a rough house of it here, but so far
as I can see, he just punched one or two of the gen-
tlemen in there—some kind of a fist row. I don't
know—they might have some severer charge and if
they did I suppose they could lock him up, for they
could ask big bail then."
"What's bail?" asked Kate. "Money, or something
else?"
"Oh, bail's a bond that he'll make his appearance
when the trial comes up."
"Money?"
"Oh, yes, people can put up cash if they want."
"And if he doesn't, what happens to him?"


262 THIEVES
her own body. The mistress, scarcely hearing these
loyal observations, made her way to the Second
National Bank, where she happened to know one of
the principal officers, all of whom she had heard her
father say he hated worse than poison. Here she
deposited her cheque, a good ten thousand dollars, to
the wonder and surprise of the smiling manager, who
had a peculiar relish for this new account.
She next betook herself in the automobile, still
accompanied by Nora, to the house of her Aunt Emma.
The latter lived in a style much more moderate than
that of her brother. She had felt unkindly toward
him for several years past because he had failed to
assist her husband in a speculation that cost him all
his own and most of her fortune besides and upon his
second marriage she had quickly felt in the manner
of the haughty Miriam that their acquaintance could
not be equal.
Kate having intimated to her, as soon as she ar-
rived, that the situation between her and the step-
mother had at last become unendurable and that she
might be compelled to ask the hospitality of her aunt,
the latter broke forth volubly:
"It's just what I used to say to your uncle. No-
body on earth could live with that woman. The first
thing she started to do was to alienate every one of his
relatives and friends. I told John before he died
just what would occur, that she'd keep at you till
she drove you out of the house, and now that she's
got a boy to be heir to all that money, you can de-
pend upon it she's watching things better than ever.
You needn't tell me more—I know just what it is to
live in a house with a creature like her. What is it


264
THIEVES
"Are you going over? If you are, I can take you
with me now."
"No, thank you, dear, no. But it's very kind of
you. I have my own little electric car here. I sup-
pose she thinks that's a cheap little thing, too! But
I'll run over sometime late in the afternoon. Now
let's have a talk about this matter of yours."
Kate revealed to the aunt only so much as was nec-
essary for her to know, keeping back, of course, the
very scandal that would most have delighted her.
As to her intimacy with Richardson, this with par-
donable pride she made as slight as possible, so that
the final effect on Aunt Emma's mind was that the
girl had been treated with extreme rigor by the
father, and with low and unjust suspicion by the step-
mother. The aunt concluded, at parting, that Kate
was entirely welcome to the house whenever she
wanted it and that the fine Mrs. Severn should see
that the poor girl had another home in which she
might revel with less luxury but with infinite liberty.
Kate then departed in fair spirits, for in addition to
escape from a hateful situation at home, there now
lay open to her, she felt sure, an opportunity to re-
ceive the only visitor whom she desired to have.
This hope gave her, though, only a moment's hap-
piness. In what a situation was that unfortunate and
innocent fellow at this very time! If heavy bail
should be exacted, how impossible for him to obtain
it, or, if at all, how probably would he have to wait for
it in a prison cell. She bought eagerly the early edi^
tions of the newspapers, to find small comfort in thefn
while she ate a few bites in a down-town cafe
At a quarter before three she at last saw a headline,


THIEVES
265
"Bail Fixed at $5,000.00!" Scandalous, wicked sum,
she thought. What was left but that she protect him?
This design slowly forming, yet during several hours
rejected, overcame finally her many scruples of deli-
cacy and prudence.
But how could it be accomplished? How could
Wallowell Severn's daughter furnish bail to John
Richardson and nobody know it? To succeed in and
be discovered would be as bad as to attempt it and fail,
the whole town being sure to fall into convulsions of
scandal and abuse from every quarter and at both
the participants. On the other hand, should she sit
by, aware of so much villainy and see a cultured, high-
minded man pass the night on a cot in jail, deserted,
vilified, disgraced?
Impossible! She went at once to her new deposi-
tory and from the agreeable manager obtained the
necessary sum in five bills of one thousand dollars
each, assured by the gentleman himself that, if Wallo-
well Severn's daughter wanted it, she could have fifty
as well. Then she rejoined Nora in the autocar, while
the banker, looking on, was undecided whether to ac-
count for all this by the new feminine vice of gam-
bling or the extravagance of jewels.
A full half hour she trifled in the shops or rode
in silence while she invented plans and Nora endeav-
ored to cheer her spirits. The afternoon wore on,
the smoke sank heavier on the town, dusk approached,
and lights began to blink from inside offices. At last
she resolved to act.
**Nora, you and Pat O'Donnell are sure to be mar-
ried next year?"
"We're hopin' so, mum."


266 THIEVES
"And he's the most reliable, the most secret man in
the world?"
"Och, the bist in the world!"
"Where does he work? How soon could I get
him?"
Nora in endless sentences described the spot that
was honored by Pat, who, a night janitor in a small
office building, was sure to be about to go on duty at
this hour. Reluctantly then did Kate begin to con-
fide in the maid the step she was to take though not
the affection that prompted it. It was a "great in-
terest" she felt in Mr. Richardson, who was being
crushed by unusual injustice. Nora avoiding any-
thing in words or manner that would look like a be-
lief on her part that her mistress cared for Richardson
other than as a friend, lauded him to the skies, abused
his persecutors, and vowed the angels would remember
Kate in Heaven.
It took nearly an hour to find O'Donnell and to ar-
range through Nora, who was in her glory at his be-
ing called into so much importance, that he should
carry the money into the hands of Richardson. Gal-
lantly did the little Irishman, sworn to secrecy by both
women a thousand times, undertake the errand, nor
was there ever as much fidelity or pride in the ambas-
sador of kings. That the chauffeur might get no hint
of what was going on, the business was concluded in
a confectioner's shop, whence Pat departed with a
mysterious air, pledged to telephone Nora at Severn's
if the mission should be accomplished.
Then poor Kate, uneasy and worn out, re-entered
her automobile and sank back to encounter what lan-
guage called home. Half faint from lack of food,


THIEVES
267
she had now to consider the possible consequences of
this, the latest offense against her father's prejudices,
an offense undoubtedly more exasperating, should he
hear of it, than all the others put together. Nor did
she try to persuade herself that he would not, sooner
or later, hear of it. Obliged in her hurry to lean upon
the fidelity, she had been forced also to accept the in-
discreetness of Nora, to whose weakness in this re-
spect must be added the whispering of Pat O'Donnell
to a few trusted friends.
Not for a moment, though, did she regret her ac-
tion, as, speeding into the suburbs, she saw at length
the lights of the Severn mansion.


CHAPTER XL
O be led through the streets by two policemen is
1 little soothing to innocence and it was with much
difficulty that Richardson avoided making his sit-
uation still more disagreeable by resistance. A crowd
gathering as usual followed him to the police station
but the majority, who would have almost mobbed his
captors a day or two ago, were now less partial to
the official who had dismissed the charges against
Locksport.
Arriving at the station attended closely by both
Dickson and his brother Tom, Richardson demanded
that he be immediately taken before a magistrate
where he would plead guilty of an assault, to obtain
the speedy release from confinement commonly al-
lowed offenders who use their bare fists in a temper.
This request, however, was denied him by the gen-
tlemen in uniform, who informed him that they knew
what they were about and that it was his business
to keep cool. In this way two or three hours were
lost, Richardson fuming and fretting with no more
effect than a caged lion upon his keepers. In the
meantime new excitement had arisen from reports of
riot at Severn's mills.
Chafing continually, Richardson nevertheless kept
his temper and succeeded in inducing both Dickson
and Tom to keep theirs since nothing could be worse
than to irritate his custodians. The latter, mean-


270
THIEVES
trate, Justice Kline. This jurist was well-known both
by Richardson and his companions to be as much in
the service of the enemy as if he had been on their
payroll. He pretended, however, to great imparti-
ality.
"What's all this about?" he demanded.
"Just a simple assault, your Honor," replied Rich-
ardson. "I lost my temper over here in Mr. Short-
ridge's office and I'm sorry to say I passed a blow or
two, one to Reginald Locksport and the other to—
why, to—Mr. Hagan himself."
At this moment appeared Mr. Simmons from Ha-
gan's office.
"We wish, your Honor, to have this gentleman
bound over on a serious charge—assault with a dan-
gerous weapon."
Both Richardson and his brother showing at this
considerable surprise, Mr. Simmons nodded gravely
to his Honor as if he had already forced the other
side to betray apprehension and admit a degree of
guilt.
"Exactly," he continued, "assault with a dangerous
weapon."
"That's a different thing then!" exclaimed his
Honor.
"Dangerous weapon! What do you mean?" cried
John Richardson.
"He had no weapons at all! What are you talking
about?" exclaimed Tom.
"Just keep quiet, Tom. Keep cool now," his
brother whispered.
"I'm not excited a bit," retorted Tom, "never was
cooler in my life. They're a set of liars, your Honor,


272
THIEVES
justice. What you want in exercising your discre-
tion at this time as to the amount of bail is a little
advice, I suppose, upon the whole situation, for I am
confident your Honor would not wish any faction in
the present troubles in this city to make use of you."
"I certainly would not."
"I think I rightly estimated your Honor's tempera-
ment," resumed John. "Now you notice that neither
of these gentlemen who charge me with these
grave offenses are personally present."
"We can have 'em here in a few minutes if you
want 'em," cried Simmons.
"Well, you've had plenty of time to bring them
here, this thing having occurred before noon," con-
tinued John. "I suppose his Honor doesn't wish to
keep court all day for people to come here prepared."
His Honor nodded and looked at the crowd, which
seemed to be favorable to this argument.
"Now, your Honor, I have this statement to make;
all that occurred in Mr. Shortridge's room was my
having gotten into a quarrel with the gentlemen there
and having hit them with my bare fists. Your Honor
will see that it will be a terrible outrage, in the ab-
sence of a sworn statement here, to exact such ex-
cessive bail as ten thousand dollars. There is no
proof, either, that the gentlemen supposed to be in-
jured have received anything more, no matter what
implement was used, than a casual wound, or that they
could not be here in person. In fact, my young friend
states that they could be here in two or three min-
utes, if we wanted their presence. This indicates,
does it not, your Honor, that nothing very grave has
happened? I admit it does not prove that I have


274
THIEVES
attention to the situation at Severn's mills, the re-
peated importunity of various people in the labor
faction that he come down there and attempt to re-
store order, the false charges expressed that he him-
self had been causing the disturbances, and the feeling
that all his efforts during the two weeks past were now
flitting away into nothing, wore upon him visibly.
One moment he would be at John's side, another he
would be absent on the curbstone outside the station.
Terrible fits of coughing came upon him.
All this added to the distress of John, who had in-
sisted that Dickson keep his station entirely among the
disorderly element at the mill and endeavor to restore
the peace that was so essential to the cause of the strik-
ers. He would not reveal, nor had he revealed, either
to Dickson or to his brother what he well knew from
the revelations made to him by Kate, that the turbu-
lence had in all probability been the effect of the very
plans discussed that night on the veranda at Severn's.
Night had now come on. The lamps of the police
station were lighted and Richardson, unable in his
shame and vexation to eat a morsel since his breakfast,
was looking forward to a prisoner's bed, when there
was a stir in the crowd near the door. A brisk young
man bustled in, Pat O'Donnell, with all the air of one
coming to a rescue with mysterious importance.
"Is Mr. John Richardson here?"
"Yes," said an officer. "Do you want to see him?"
"That's what I'm here for."
"There he is—over there."
"That's the gentleman, is it?"
"That's what I said."


276
THIEVES
The bail, which would be handed back to him on his
attending the hearing, he could restore to the friend
that sent it, Totten no doubt, or some member of the
League.


CHAPTER XLI
JVA RS. SEVERN by Friday began to recover from
the shock of that cruel Thursday morning. The
sensational behavior of Kate at the card party and
the father's terrible rage against the daughter were
indeed a tonic. The stepmother now felt better,
soothed by soft bromide and gratified resentment.
She had even the merit, and gladly could endure the
sweet blame, of having tried to shield his erring
daughter.
When old Severn, on leaving Kate's boudoir this
morning, announced to his spouse, yet in bed, that
the girl would be off to Europe in forty-eight hours if
her Aunt Emma, as he hoped, could be forced to take
her, she murmured her sympathy for him, adding that
in the great trial of his patience, she would forgive
his angry words of the night before. How much did
she wish, good wife that she was, to be able to see
Wallowell also go abroad to enjoy with his wife the
rest he so much needed. But that, with this strike to
torment him, was clearly impossible.
Thus she lay in bed until three forming a plan of
action. Shortridge must not know about the scan-
dalous Nora, since, should he hear that such a se-
cret was at large, he would undoubtedly diminish
his attentions to the wife of his employer. Let Kate
and Nora be gone, he could continue without gossip
and without alarm. All that now weighed heavily on
277


278
THIEVES
her soul was Nora's allusion to a third person who
was, she had hinted, a witness, but this person too
would probably have cause to keep quiet. The worst,
at any rate, appeared to have passed.
Shortridge, arriving at four to report to Severn the
condition of affairs, was in a somewhat perturbed
frame of mind. The strike had grown worse. He
had to confess also that Kate had been too quick for
him in collecting the cash part of her legacy, a mistake
that caused the father, who had tried to forestall her,
infinite vexation.
After some talk Shortridge and Severn joined Mrs.
Severn, who had invited them to tea in one of the
larger rooms downstairs, where she was reclining on
a couch.
"You've been through such a hard time, I under-
stand!" said Shortridge.
"You know, Mr. Shortridge, what we've all been
through here. I'm not speaking of the strike. That's
a small matter compared with something else."
"I'm willing to admit right here," Severn remarked,
"while I've been very much out of humor with Miriam
about it, I'm satisfied now she did the best she could
under all the circumstances. She treated that girl
nicely enough for anybody. It's me that's got the
most ungrateful child that ever lived. That strike on
right now, that very strike, has been hashed up badly
by her having something to do with this good-for- -
nothing, common whelp across the way here. Not
out yet, is he? Hasn't got any bail?"
"No, and I don't think he'll get any. We fixed it
high enough to hold him this time, I think."
"From what I hear," remarked Mrs. Severn, "the


THIEVES
279
fellow behaved just the way those low brutes always
do."
"Scandalously, Mrs. Severn."
"I don't see what you were doing there! Why
didn't you break in and give him a slap or two?" said
Severn.
"Well, you see it's this way. I was afraid it might
complicate affairs more for you. We've got to be
politic, so to speak," replied Shortridge, coloring.
"Seems to have been pretty handy with his fists,
the skunk!" Severn continued. "I don't see why
Kate isn't home yet. But if he's locked up behind
steel bars, I guess we'll have no trouble on that score
for awhile."
Mrs. Severn shuddered, the very mention of such
things being terrible to nerves like hers, and speaking
to Shortridge in a low voice she remarked, "The girl's
not a bad one, you know, in her way, but there's a
common streak there—from the mother, I think."
"Well, she'll be off to Europe all right, Shortridge,
in about two days, if I'm not mistaken, and if her
Aunt Emma won't consent to take her there, I'll find
somebody that will. Cousin Julia maybe will go.
Emma will be here in a little bit. Said she'd be here
between five and six."
"I do hope so!" remarked the wife, and then in a
low tone again to Shortridge, "A stupid old horror,
that sister of Wallowell's! She wears on me dread-
fully."
"I hope to God I'll never have to pass through any-
thing like what I went through last night," continued
Severn. "I don't believe a man could stand that sort
of thing more than once in his life. I couldn't look


280
THIEVES
one of those people in the face after that girl's behav-
ing that way, standing up for a wharf-rat like that one.
But here's Emma now. Come in, Emma—been wait-
ing for you. You know Mr. Shortridge here, don't
you?"
"Why, dear Aunt Emma!" cried Mrs. Severn in
the voice of one too weak to rise. "You'll excuse my
not getting up, won't you? But I've been waiting so
impatiently for you!"
"Sorry you're not well," replied her sister-in-law a
little coolly.
"Oh, we've been through such dreadful things here.
I was just saying to Wallowell that you were the only
person that had the tact and sense to handle Kate at
all."
"I do think I can do something with her," Aunt
Emma replied, a little mollified.
"You're the only person that can," Mrs. Severn re-
peated. "Now you've got to take dinner with us—
I won't hear you say no. We want to talk everything
over with you and have your fullest and best advice."
"I hadn't intended to stay at all, thank you," the
other replied, thawing gradually.
"Oh, yes, you've got to stay," broke in Severn.
"We've got to talk things over here fully. You've
got to take that girl to Europe and take her quick!"
Then he launched out upon the affair of the night be-
fore, sparing Kate in no way and making everything
worse in a thousand particulars, during all which dis-
course Mrs. Severn did not fail to ply Aunt Emma
with many encouraging glances, some of them artfully
directed toward the lady's gown, of which she seemed
to approve.


THIEVES
281
"And now, Aunt Emma," resumed Mrs. Severn
when the whole narrative was ended, "we want your
advice on the whole situation. We may be wrong
about this now, and maybe we are wrong in insisting
that she go at once to Europe, but we leave it all to
you. Another cup of tea, won't you, dear? You'll
have one, won't you?"
"You might fill it again, thank you," replied Aunt
Emma, unable to resist the leader of fashion. "But
as to going to Europe all of a sudden like this,
why—"
"Why, you've got to go, that's what," old Severn
interrupted. "You've just got to go. You see the
situation. Of course, you go at my expense and no
limit on money. But you go now."
"Well, but, Wallowell, it's got to be considered,"
objected the sister.
"I thought of giving you a nice little luncheon here
just before you go," resumed Mrs. Severn, "just call-
ing in a few of our best friends and making it, so to
speak, a nice family affair."
"I suppose one ought to do one's duty," said Aunt
Emma with a sigh, "but it's very hard, it's so sud-
den."
"I'm glad to hear you speak of duty," Mrs. Severn
resumed, "because I've always felt that you were a
person to whom that appealed. You see, don't you,
dear—you see here the situation that we're in—here's
your brother in the most deplorable condition, utterly
unable, practically, to leave the house, and shut up
in this dreadful America with all these strikes, and
here am I who wouldn't leave him now for the world
with all this excitement around him—who else is there


282
THIEVES
—who is there so near to us, so close to us that we
can appeal to except yourself? She's got to go—of
course, she's got to go, you see that—it's better for
her, better for Kate herself, the poor girl!"
"Yes, the poor girl!" exclaimed Aunt Emma. "And
here she is now. Hush! Don't let's say anything."
The pale subject of this conversation now made
her appearance in the doorway, whence she would
have withdrawn had she not seen her Aunt Emma.
Changing her purpose, she bowed pleasantly to her
aunt and stood for a moment uncertain what to do.
Everybody was embarrassed, Mrs. Severn the most
so, as this was their first meeting since her shame.
"Won't you join us?" asked Aunt Emma.
"I think not, thank you."
"You look very tired, Kate, dear," observed Mrs.
Severn at last.
"I am, thank you."
"Take this chair," said Shortridge, pushing for-
ward a very comfortable one, while old Severn cast
not one look upon the girl.
"No, thank you, Mr. Shortridge."
"I've consented to stay to dinner, Kate," said Aunt
Emma. "I want to talk over with you some matters
we've been discussing here."
"What is it, Aunt Emma?"
"Well, um—I don't know whether—shall I, just
now, Wallowell?"
"Don't ask me," grunted the latter.
"Why, it's about going to Europe, Kate," said the
aunt. "Your father's desire is that we go—"
"Miss Kate, Miss Kate!" came in a low whisper
outside the curtains. Kate turning beheld Nora almost


THIEVES
283
dancing with glee. "He's out! Pat's got him out,
the bye!"
"Tell her the North German Lloyd has a sailing
Tuesday morning—the Cecilie," muttered Severn to
his wife.
"Yes, Aunt Emma, what?" asked Kate, her face
changing color in her fluctuating feelings.
"We want to know if you'll go Tuesday morning."
"Tuesday morning!" the girl repeated in the weari-
ness of one nearly worn out by two sleepless nights
and three racking days.
"The Cecilie, Kate, perfectly lovely boat," observed
Mrs. Severn, "isn't it, Mr. Shortridge?"
"Charming."
"We'll talk it over. You think about it. We'd
leave here Monday night. This is Friday," the aunt
resumed.
"We needn't talk about it further," replied the niece,
as one who, having accomplished something, though
she had parted with her lover, was at last exhausted
and wanted only peace.
"But, Kate, dear—"
"It's not necessary, Aunt Emma, because—because
I can answer you now. We'll go."


THIEVES
285
Swift among the crowds moved the leaders of the
strikers, jerking back their followers, entreating some,
cursing others, pleading, commanding and arguing,
beseeching each swaying drop of those angry waves
to subside for the sake of God. The wretched work-
men lashed up to madness by the treachery of some
of their class, and by the villainy of others whom they
detected to be thugs hired to push them into strife,
were lost to every voice except that of revenge.
It was midnight when Tom Richardson sank pant-
ing on a doorstep, where he was found by his brother,
himself exhausted. John, raising him to his feet,
staggered five weary squares to a line of street cars,
whence by some transfers he bore him to the cottage.
The brother fell upon a bed; he gasped, he faintly
groaned, he sighed and sank into a grievous stupor.
The old mother with John applied such restoratives
as could be had at home until a physician brought to
their succor the stimulants of science. Toward day-
light he revived, but by ten the doctor sadly advised
them that Tom was a dying man. He might, per-
haps, live two or three days, during which, as a des-
perate chance if some gain in strength accrued, they
might send him to Colorado to gasp its invigorating
air.
Tired though he was, John Richardson hurried to
the city, seeking the one friend who had money,
Darius Totten. The latter, having returned from
Johnstown, deplored the riots, which, however, had
subsided, and then felicitated his young friend on his
prowess with his fists.
"I'm afraid I'm not a true Christian," exclaimed
the old man. "I couldn't help chuckling when I read


286
THIEVES
about it. Out of a job, eh? Of course you can't go
back to Hagan's office."
"Not exactly," John replied with a sad smile.
"What I was—"
"No matter for that, my boy. So much the bet-
ter! I guess there's somebody else in this town that's
got a few dollars beside that Locksport and Severn
crowd. I've got some legal business, got some just
now myself, a fairly good piece of work. Know
some other fellows here that need a bright chap like
you. What makes you so blue?"
"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Totten, I—"
"Cheer up, then!"
"Oh, Mr. Totten, it's a sad morning for me, I'm
sorry to say. My brother Tom is dying." He buried
his face in his hands.
"Oh, dear, dear! not dying?"
"Yes—no hope. A little perhaps—Colorado."
"Dear, dear! Brace up now. What's—well, I
know, consump—"
"Consumption."
"Too bad, my boy. Colorado, eh?—Colorado—"
"Mr. Totten, what I came to trouble you about is
this. I hate to bother you, but I feel perhaps you
might be willing—to—to buy a piece of property
from me. I've got to raise money immediately for
my brother."
"Yes, yes, I see."
"I've a little home out here. Perhaps you—it's
next to Wallowell Severn's."
"I remember it—a little brown house, isn't it, with
trees and yellowish trimmings—"
"Yes, with trees—"


THIEVES
287
"Never mind now. Don't be feeling so bad, son.
Want me to buy it?"
"Yes, there's a mortgage on it due now, but, I sup-
pose, easily extended. If I can get the difference on
the basis of eight thousand for the whole, that would
leave me a few thousand."
"I'll lend you the money and—"
"No, no, no loan. If you will buy it, I'm sure you
can't lose."
The old man having argued kindly with him to no
purpose, finally said cheerily: "I'll buy it, then.
About an acre or so of land, as I remember it.
Ought to be worth eight thousand. Want the money
at once?"
"Thank you, yes. The title must be searched
and—"
"Oh, here's a thousand now and you get the rest
when the title's proved sound and I get the deed.
Here, boy. I'm fearfully busy somehow to-day. I
suppose that other crowd'll be saying that that old
lunatic Totten's crazier than ever to-day, I'm so busy
stirring things up."
Richardson, his voice choked with emotion, thanked
the generous old man with a hearty grasp of the hand,
adding:
"This is not the only thing I have to thank you for
—my bail, you know."
"Bail—me!"
"Yes, last night. I have no doubt it came from you,
the five thousand dollars."
"Wish it had. It surely would have if I'd been in
town. No, not me, son."
"Then I have another friend somewhere."


CHAPTER XLIII
\17HEN old Severn, kept awake until near day-
break by those who telephoned him the progress
of the riot, awoke the next day to read in the news-
papers that, though his mills had been saved from
wreck and fire, Richardson had been bailed by an un-
known person, he was again in a rage. That old
knave, Totten, he swore, was probably at the bottom
of it, but soon correcting himself, to do that person
less justice, he declared that this addled fool could
not have been the deliverer, since he would have been
sure to run to the papers with the news. John being
now at large, Kate was exposed anew, it was clear, to
this prowling fox Richardson, for whom her father had
even sweeter appellations, skunk, maggot, toad, hawk,
snake, and worm.
The old fellow now became vigilant as well as agile.
When Kate was late in rising he had a hundred ques-
tions to ask as to the delay, wishing to know whether
she was certainly in her rooms and adding that, when
she came out, she be given to understand by some one,
who would stoop to speak to her, that she was not to
go down town at all, but to stay indoors and prepare
for the journey. All the while he would keep an eye
on Richardson's cottage, lest that gentleman be sneak-
ing about the grounds.
As for the fair object of so much concern and ill
humor, she arose about ten from a heavy sleep, that
289


292
THIEVES
sultations were resumed about the voyage, the ship,
the hotels, the mails, and the profound trust each had
in the other. Mrs. Severn would express the most
charitable views as to Kate, while Aunt Emma would
admit that every woman has her trials. Mrs. Severn
was sorry she had always seen so little of Aunt Emma,
while Aunt Emma discovered that Mrs. Severn was
the simplest person in the world to understand. She
would air her French a trifle in the half dozen sen-
tences she knew how to utter; would say, for example,
Je ne sais pas with great ease in the best accent of a
local French club to hear the greater dame's response
in pure and undefiled Parisian acquired in the best
company abroad from bankrupt dukes and tipsy ladies
who, boozing nightly with princes, lament democracy
and the decay of manners. Then with a word to Kate
she would hurry home to her own preparations, this
being Saturday, for the start on Monday evening.
All the while the uneasiness of Severn increased to
such a degree that he caused even the telephone to
be guarded, busying himself with fretful suspicions
and trivial suggestions. He would rather, he vowed,
lose one of his mills than that that cur should have
another look at his daughter, whom he would there-
upon disinherit into the bargain. Looking frequently
at the cottage and seeing persons moving about within
its grounds, he finally caused Wattles to follow him in
a stroll toward the pagoda, hobbling with the aid of a
cane and relieving his spleen with mumbled epithets.
Above all things did he desire to fall in with Richard-
son and to give him, as he expressed it, a damned good
piece of his mind.
Such good fortune was at length afforded him, for


CHAPTER XLIV
CCARCELY had the doctor left the house when
the drawing stitches began to exasperate still
more the mind of Severn, who having already sent
for Shortridge, swore he would this very hour execute
a will that would cut off his daughter without a penny.
To her he laid this final humiliation as much as if she
had maliciously concocted it or bred this dog five years
before to bite him now. The pain, the shame before
his servants, the grins, as he imagined, of Richardson,
all added fuel to a rage sufficiently fanned up by his
daughter's love for his enemy no less than by the riot
at the mills.
Nobody could keep him in bed. Getting out in
some fashion like a crab he made his way to a safe
in which lay a will made some months before and this
he vowed should be torn to shreds as soon as Short-
ridge could copy some of its provisions that were
intended for grateful beneficiaries and not for shame-
less daughters. Nay, more, he would call Kate be-
fore him and in the presence of witnesses sign and
seal the document forever. In the midst of this his
spouse, like a policeman in a mob, was fearful either
to check or to precipitate his fury. Should he cut
Kate off in the will, the stepmother would be happy
indeed, but should his wrath force a scene with the
girl, there was no predicting the immediate conse-
quences, the least of which would be the abandoning
300


THIEVES
301
of the trip to Europe, and the worst such a burst of
temper from the injured girl as might carry with it
a terrible secret. From any point of view she desired
peace.
Shortridge arrived not late upon the heels of the
physician and at the same time Aunt Emma, though
not summoned, dropped in to consult about the de-
tails of departure. The three discussed downstairs
the outrageous conduct of Trot, but agreed that Sev-
ern's rage must soon subside and that the making of
his will had best be deferred just three short days.
To all this Aunt Emma lent willing suggestions. The
best thing to do was that Mr. Shortridge go upstairs,
quiet her brother by putting him off and then come
down again before he could renew his rampage.
Shortridge going upstairs to accomplish this stroke of
diplomacy, the two ladies awaited him below.
"That fearful dog!" exclaimed Mrs. Severn. "I've
had to cancel my luncheon engagements for Monday—
Wallowell's condition, you know."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, I'm so sorry—disappointed to death about it."
"I thought you said," observed the disappointed
Aunt Emma, who distrusted the other's motives in
withdrawing this social promotion, "that there was
nothing serious with Wallowell."
"Yes and no—not serious—of course, I appreciate
your disappointment and I too am—"
"Oh, don't mind me a bit. I'm sure I don't care.
You know I really shouldn't have had time on our
last day—"
"Why, yes,—I felt that way, but I did so wish—"
"Don't speak of it further," rejoined the older lady,
-


THIEVES 303
open and her mouth shut and jyou all listen. I want
plenty of witnesses to this. There'll be no after-claps,
no suits on this business if I know what I'm doing.
She's dragged me in the dust! These anarchists can
even set their dogs on me."
"Am I wanted here, Mrs. Severn?" asked Kate.
"Oh, I don't know, I—"
"Yes, you do know—tell her I'm cutting her off in
this will without a penny!"
"You have my consent, then," replied the daughter,
who without another word walked out of the room.
"Oh, ho, so that's her way, is it? All right, Miss
Cat, Miss Dog, Miss Skunk! Oh, she'll feel it well
and good yet. She'll bite her fingers off yet with
shame. She'll be on her knees to me yet on those
front steps out there, damn her! Are you ready?"
"Yes, if you say so," Shortridge replied.
"Then, first, say that I leave everything I've got—
now this in no legal clap-trap, but just plain English—
to my wife Miriam here and to the boy—except—"
here he waited while Shortridge wrote—"except the
bequests from the old will here that I'm going to
allow—"
"Yes, proceed if you please now—"
"To Emma here—how much was it? I can't find
the place in these infernal long-winded 'saids' and
'aforesaids' of yours, Shortridge—anyway it was fifty
thousand dollars."
Aunt Emma almost rose from her chair at the men-
tion of this pittance out of forty millions. She looked
about, raised her hand and then settled back in her
chair.
"Here's the clause," said Shortridge, who had run


THIEVES
over the original. "Here. It was one hundred thou-
sand."
"Well, let it go at fifty," broke in Severn. "Fifty's
enough—she doesn't care for it anyway—"
"Oh, not at all!" ironically remarked the sister.
"I can take good care of you, Aunt Emma, out of
mine," added Mrs. Severn.
"Oh, thank you. I guess I don't need benevolence
just yet. I'm no pauper."
"I wish this whole business could be post—" the
other lady replied.
"Well, you needn't be grumbling there, Emma,"
the brother interrupted, "you don't need either sum
and you know it—you're older than I am, anyway, you
can't live forever."
"What are you putting me down there for anything
for, if you think I'm so old I'll not live to get it?"
"Oh, that's it, is it—you expect to get it, eh? You
think you're going to outlive me. Umph! By God,
such a family!"
"Oh, shut up with your will and take it to the grave
with you then," cried Aunt Emma, flouncing out of
the room.
"Oh, ho! Very good! So we'll just cut her out
too. It's simplifying things pretty fast here. Just
drop her out!"
"Oh, give her something, Wallowell."
"Now just hold your tongue, Miriam. This is my
business."
"But for peace, let her get off to Europe and then
you can do as you please."
"I'll wait on nobody. I'm not the waiting kind, me


THIEVES
305
—here! There's five thousand for that brute Wat-
tles. Just knife that out too."
Here a giggling was heard behind the portieres,
whence it in a moment appeared that several domestics
had not failed to attend so agreeable a scene without
the cost of admission necessary at a theater. Among
these creatures being the unpopular Wattles himself,
the joy of the others could not be repressed, but being
now perceived, they were at once scattered by their
own fear and command of the master. Wattles alone
remained, too proud or too late to flee, as Mrs. Severn
suddenly drew back the curtains that had concealed the
audience.
"Mr. Severn," said he haughtily, "Hi was just a
comin' to hinform you that Hi'm leavin' your 'ouse."
"Get out of it then—now!"
"Hi'll not be kicked hout, sir, of hany 'ouse when
Hi've been the faithful keeper of secrets hinvolvin'
the family 'onour." Mrs. Severn turned pale.
"Let us avoid a—"
"Out of the house, you cheese-faced cow!" roared
Severn. "Brown, there! You! Pull that brute out
or I'll call for the police."
"Get out, Wattles," added Shortridge.
"Ho, you, his it?" cried Wattles. "You with the
whisperin' that's goin' hon 'ere hall day hand night
habout you hand—"
"Get out, I say."
"—And the mistress of this 'ouse, you a reflectin'—"
"I'll put you in the penitentiary," Severn broke in.
"Take hold of him there, Brown." Here a junior
flunky, who had come in upon this racket, began with


306
THIEVES
hearty hold to drag Wattles out in a zeal that was born
of expected promotion.
"Hand your daughter a keepin' company hand a
bailin' hout of jail this low thing, Richardson—" But
by this time he was carried off.
"What's all this stomachful of slander mean!" cried
Severn, hobbling about.
"She bailed him out!" ejaculated Shortridge, quickly
shifting, inquiry.
"Bailed him!" echoed Mrs. Severn faintly.
"Eh? Bailed him? Oh, ho! So help me God, I
see it!" roared Severn. "I see it. That money of
her mother's! Oh, ho!"
"Exactly, Mr. Severn. She was too quick in my
office. Got—"
"Now, God have mercy on her, that girl! Here,
I'll find her—I'll find her!"
They tried to stay him, but in vain, for he had gone
into convulsions had they held him back. Hobbling,
with curses, whines, and choking, he began to as-
cend the stairs. The wife was at his heels, desper-
ate at the possible consequences of his rage. To her
the daughter might well lay all this new trouble, the
disinheriting, the betrayal of the bailing, and, in an
anger equal to his, cry out the greater scandal of the
house. There was to be dreaded, too, the uncon-
trollable Nora, who, about to quit the roof, had noth-
ing to lose and resentment to gratify.
In Kate's suite of rooms, meanwhile, Aunt Emma
had been venting her vexation also without noticing
the profound sadness of her niece, who thought neither
of fortune nor of Europe, but of a dying lover.
. "Humph!" quoth the aunt, "to Europe! You can


li
t
i


THIEVES
307
just stop your packing. I'm taking nobody anywhere
against their will." Kate made no comment.
"Robbing you too! A nice tool she was making
of me! Oh, I saw through her all the while—she
didn't fool me, the two-faced thing! I fancy I played
the game of diplomacy about as smoothly as she did—
well, what do you want here, Lucille? Keep out of
here. You needn't hurry this packing. Miss Sev-
ern's changed her mind. Run out! Oh, here you
are, Mrs. Severn! What do you want, Wallowell?"
"I know what I want. Where is she? So you
bailed him out, did you? Speak out—don't stand
skulking there!" Kate arose, pale, composed, but past
all anger. "Yes."
"Out of my house forever!"
"What's this?" cried Aunt Emma. "Stop your
roaring so loud."
"Out, I say!"
"Oh, Wallowell!"
"Out, I say! You've protected her long enough,
Miriam. I'll throw you out too if you say—out,
here, you!"
"I'm going, sir," the daughter responded calmly,
picking up a hat.
"It's not my fault, Kate, I swear it!" cried Mrs.
Severn.
"I'm not blaming you, Mrs. Severn. Hand me that
coat, please, Aunt Emma. Come."
"Will you stop your bellowing, Wallowell? What's
this new tantrum about? Come, Kate, I'll give you
a decent roof."
"Decent!" Severn cried in a fury. "There you go
too! Repeating the dirty hints that that girl has been


3o8
THIEVES
circulating, I suppose, and her low-lived maid. Be-
fore you leave this house, you hussy, you'll say right
here that you've been lying about your stepmother.
Answer me now!"
"I have not lied about her."
Mrs. Severn's face was a picture of terror.
"You lie! You lie!" the father cried. "You're
afraid to repeat a word of your cursed hints. Have
you a word to say against her before you leave this
house?"
"Oh, Wallowell, for God's sake, stop!" begged Mrs.
Severn.
"Shut up, you! Speak out now, you snivelling,
sneaking thing, here. Say it!"
"Not one word, sir. I have not one word of cen-
sure or complaint to make. Come, Aunt Emma."
"Out of here, both of you, bag and baggage! Here
you Lucille and you other girl, move about here!
Throw these bags and trunks out of doors and be
quick about it. They belong to that thing there.
Pitch 'em out, there!"
Thus he stormed and swore, while the child of his
first marriage, a creature of whatever could once have
been love in such a breast as his, descended for the
last time the stairs of her father's house, her heart
half-broken, her cheeks covered with shame, and
pitied only by his servants. She hurried across the
broad veranda to her aunt's car, and, turning her
back upon his palace, buried her face in a corner to
repress with clenched hands and set teeth the tears of
degradation and woe. Aunt Emma, leaving word
only that the luggage be sent to her house, followed
her and in a moment they were out of the grounds.


CHAPTER XLV
'"THESE abominable events were fast succeeding
* each other at Severn's when Nora ascended the
steps of Richardson's porch. The girl, full of the
emotions natural to youth and an Irish heart, was
quite resolved, should she see John himself, to de-
liver to him not only the rose but the story of Kate's
bailing him, for, though this would be the betrayal
of a secret, it could be no wrong to give it to a dying
man. Indeed, the creature would have thought it
little less than sinful to do otherwise.
Judge, then, her astonishment, when, as she knocked
at the half-open door, there stood before her John
Richardson himself. She knew his face, but was slow
to believe her eyes.
"I am Mr. Richardson."
"Holy Mother!" exclaimed Nora. "John Richard-
son?"
"Yes."
"You're not dying, thin?"
"Why, no, not exactly—as you see.—I think I know
your face—"
"Me name's Nora, Miss Severn's maid, sir. They
told her you were dying—"
"It is my brother they meant. He is—very ill."
"God be praised! I mane I'm glad you're safe and
well, sir. Miss Severn's going abroad and—"
"Abroad!"
309


THIEVES
"On Monday, her aunt and her, and being nervous,
I suppose, she misunderstood. She sint you this!"
He took the rose but could say nothing for a mo-
ment, while Nora gulped down her desire to tell the
story of the bail, a secret she no longer dared to give
away, not knowing it was at that very moment tattled
from one end of the great house to the other, tittered
over from kitchen to garret. Again he essayed to
speak. He longed to deliver through the maid some
expression of love, but this, of course, would not do.
Suddenly picking up a small photograph of himself
from a table, he said:
"Give this to her, please. Tell her I shall—I shall
keep—" Here he became unable to say more.
Nora bowed, her eyes full of tears.
"Just one word," he added; "this miserable affair
this morning—her father's acci—"
"The dog, you mane, sir?"
"Yes. Assure her it was not my fault. I don't
know how the story was repeated by the man-serv-
ant—"
"He couldn't tell the truth if he tried, that wan,
Mr. Richardson."
"I feared so and was afraid Mr. Severn was really
hurt. I watched him till he reached the house and
saw a man helping him on either side—"
"Worse than that, sir, on both sides!"
"Yes. Was he hurt? Our doctor tells us it was a
deep bite, but—"
"Sure and he's none the worse, I'm thinkin', though
he did lose a gallon or two of blood, they till me,
which'll be doing his rheumatism good. I suppose I
shouldn't be mintioning it, but as Miss Severn's going


THIEVES
311
away and looks on you as a frind, Mr. Richardson,
it's no impropriety to be saying that her father's been
outrageous to her these three or four days past.
She'd not have me whisper this to you for the world,
sir, but it'll do ye good to know—"
"Oh, tell her—tell her—ask her if it is not possible
to see her before—"
"John," said his mother, entering from an inner
room, "Tom—"
"Yes, mother—"
"I'll be going, sir, now. I'm very sorry about your
brother," said Nora, bowing to Mrs. Richardson and,
unaware whether the son desired to confide this kind
of a message to his mother, making a hasty departure
with the photograph. Richardson looked anxiously
at his mother.
"You were going to say, mother, about Tom—"
"I think Tom's a bit better now. He seems to wish
to talk. Who was that girl, John?"
"Kate Severn's maid."
"I think you had best chat with Tom, I was going
to say," she continued, kindly changing the subject.
"But here's Mr. Dickson."
"Good afternoon, John!"
"Glad to see you, Dickson. Sit down. A hard
time last night, wasn't it?"
"Terrible! I've just got up. How are you, Mrs.
Richardson? I've been looking for Tom."
"He's here, thank you."
"And in bad shape, Dickson, I'm sorry to say."
"Another hemorrhage?"
"Yes, and the heart is weakening."
"Just a bit better now," said Mrs. Richardson


312
THIEVES
sadly. "The doctor says if he can revive enough to
stand a trip to Colorado, there's some hope—"
"I'll step in and see him alone a moment, mother."
Tom, having some return of strength, now asked
to be raised on his pillow, whence he talked, not with-
out hope, but as one prepared for the worst.
"I've got a few books, John, that if anything should
happen, I want you to give to Dickson—books on
government too simple for you, I guess, in my room
down town. You know how we like that kind of
stuff, we labor people. Dickson never gets enough
of it. Another thing, John. I've never talked to
anybody about it but you'll understand it, I guess."
Here he paused a moment. "There's a girl I've
never mentioned to you. It all came to a head while
you were on that trip to Europe, kind of suited each
other the minute we saw each other, the two of us."
"Who, Tom?"
Tom again hesitated a moment. "Annie Barclay's
• her name, a school teacher. You'll find a little book
of Burns' poems with her name in it, a present she
gave me and I've scribbled mine a few days ago un-
derneath, so, when, if—if my time's got to come, you
can just give that back to her. That's one thing.
Now, another. I've saved one hundred dollars and
kept it for her—"
"Yes, Tom, but you're looking better now, old fel-
low, so—"
"Yes, but don't forget that, John."
"Never. What happened between you, Tom?"
"Agreed to give it up. I knew—well, she knew—
with this blight on me—of course, we hoped awhile
and, somehow, I always did believe we'd get to Colo-


THIEVES
313
rado, you and I, in time. It does work wonders
there—or to California."
A drowsy look came in his eye. "What a dreamy
kind of place that must be, mountains and sea! I
always wanted, all my life, to spend just one winter
on a warm beach in some of those places."
Once more he looked up. "Annie Barclay's her
name. I'm feeling easier now. I think I'll sleep."
Romantic love has long survived the pomp of tour-
naments. It blooms in attics and tenements, and more
real sacrifices are made for woman by shabby clerks
behind counters and rough heroes in the mills than
ever were recited at the Table Round or sung in
Mabinogion and chanson de geste.
Again he sank upon his pillow. Colorado? Cali-
fornia? Ah, "He never got to Carcassonne."


CHAPTER XLVI
ORA, as much out of breath in returning as in
A ~ going, came back to a different house indeed.
The gardeners were whispering on the lawn, the chauf-
feurs had their heads together near the garage, the
maids were surrounding Mrs. McFadden in the
kitchen.
"What are ye all gassin' about there?" asked Nora.
"What are ye all lookin' at me for that way?"
"And don't you know?"
"Know what, Mrs. McFadden?"
"Why, where have ye bin, child?"
"Nowheres."
"Thin don't ye know? Haven't ye eyes and ears?"
"To the Divil wid all this rigmarole! Mrs. Mc-
Fadden, and you, Biddy, there, what's wrong? I've
bin out the past twinty minits or the like."
"Shall we tell her, Mrs. McFadden?"
"Lave that to me, Biddy. Lave that to me."
"Holy Mother! Wid your long faces, all of you!"
"We're bein' gentle wid you, Nora. Your mistress
is thrown out of the house!"
"What!"
"Thrown out, I till ye, kicked out like a dog by her
father and her trunks bein' carted away into the bar-
gain."
"And whin—and who—"

314


THIEVES
315
"Oh, it's that low-lifed Wattles and his gang up-
stairs a lyin' all of thim about the swate—"
"But where is she now and what were ye all doin'
here, you wid yer big hips and shoulders to stand by
a lookin' on! Where's Miss Kate now, I till ye?"
"Gone to her aunt's, Nora. Be patient now—"
"Patient! Oh, I'll show ye all patience, if that's
what ye want!"
"Now, don't be—"
"Let me alone, do ye hear, one and all of ye!
Who's lookin' after her things?"
"Sure, and I don't know yet but—"
"Do ye mane to say that ye've lift her belongings,
trunks full of laces and drawers full of jewels, to the
nifty fingers of Lucille and that—"
By this time she was on her way to Kate's apart-
ments, ready to fling aside everybody short of Severn
and his wife, both of whom fortunately had gone to
another part of the house. She pulled open drawer
after drawer, slammed, banged, and searched in a
fury of suspicious anger, railed against the house-
hold, pushed Lucille on a bed with a hearty thrust, all
the while filling a suit-case with trinkets and scraps of
finery, and questioning with fiery zeal every unfortu-
nate wench that came into the rooms. Soon she filled
another bag, with which as well as the first, she re-
turned in a perspiration to the kitchen.
"You, Blivens, there," she cried to Kate's chauffeur,
who was gossiping outside the window, "you're wanted
at once here wid the machine."
"An' yer lavin' yer own things behind, Nora?" in-
quired Biddy. "Ye've not even got a hat on yer
head."


3i6
THIEVES
"Niver mind me, all o' ye, after yer stannin' by this
way, an' that manes you too, Sadie. What are ye
doin' down here at this hour, onyway? Are ye lookin'
for things to tell upstairs?"
"And that's my business, you ugly bulldozer," re-
• torted Sadie. "It's the first time ye ever worked in a
swell family and it'll be—"
"Ye lie, ye dirty clothes-pin! I niver worked for
a poor family in me life. I'm better brought up than
the likes of you,"
"Oh, she's goin' off in the machine like as if it was
her own! Well, it's your last ride, you—"
"Now, stop that," interposed Mrs. McFadden, "this
is a dacent kitchen so long as I'm here. Good-by,
Nora. You'll be back for your things, I suppose, but
ye can lave that to me."
Blivens, though uncertain who had yet the right
to give commands over Kate's automobile, was soon
off with Nora, whom in half an hour he delivered
aj: Aunt Emma's. The maid lost not one instant in
seeking her mistress in the room assigned to her,
where she found the unhappy young woman in a
chair, her outer garments not yet all removed, lost in
the saddest of meditations. They embraced each
other.
"He's not dead or dyin' and I've brought the rest
of your things!"
"Oh, Nora, he's—"
"It's a mistake and it's mesilf that got back to yer
rooms in time—"
"A mistake! Never mind the clothes—"
"Yes, it's only his brother that's dyin', poor thing!
Here's a silver buckle ye'd left behind—"


THIEVES
317
"But, Nora, what happened? Stop now—tell me!"
Then the other, interrupted only from time to time
by Aunt Emma's chambermaid, who sought to aid
them, related the visit to Richardson. The photo-
graph and the news began to restore the color to
Kate's cheeks.
"But you didn't know till you got back to the house
that—you told him we were going abroad on Mon-
day—"
"Yes, mum."
"So he doesn't know yet that I'm here?"
"To be sure not, mum, but if you could have seen
the way he looked whin I gave him that rose! And
I suppose it's no trouble to be a telephonin' him."
"I'll see, Nora. You've been so quick and brave!"
"And it's me life that's at yer service, Miss Kate,
till Pat and me are riddy for housekeepin'—an' ye'll
be as happy livin' plainly here wid only two or three
servants as ever ye could be wid that scandal-feedin'/
crowd out there."
Kate now relaxed her mind and heart from trie
strain of the past five days. Longing to invite Rich-
ardson, she hesitated, wondering whether she had not
made advances enough. She was happy to know that
he was alive.


CHAPTER XLVII
HE next day was Sunday. Kate arose with a
1 lighter heart than she had felt within her during
more than a week past. Looking about her little
apartment she saw in it at least rest and contentment,
and felt that she had a home, for there was a pretty
view from the window, and the garden, retaining the
expiring bloom of September, was a small plot of
ground in which she could stroll. A sense of quiet
came over her, of relaxation, repose.
Aunt Emma briskly resumed the topics of Satur-
day, declaring that everybody would be gadding about
this business by Monday and that she, for her part,
would be very little disposed to hold her tongue.
People should hear what she thought of certain per-
sons. Nobody should make her keep secrets when
other people's reputations were to be protected and
the town should know what Miriam Severn's rea-
sons were for driving Kate out of her father's house.
To arguments like these the girl replied, urging that
controversy be dropped. Of discussion she was tired
and as to gossip indifferent. She wanted only to be
left alone.
With great sorrow she read in the morning news-
papers that Tom Richardson had died the night before
and that his funeral was set for Monday afternoon.
It was to be an affair of considerable pomp among
the labor unions, all of which looked upon it as

318


THIEVES
3i9
bringing matters to a crisis between themselves and
their employers as well as indicating to the public the
scandal and injustice that had hurried him to the
grave. The papers published a short history of his
life. He was, it was related, a man universally
trusted and, notwithstanding much acrimony between
labor and capital, had always been honest, had always
faithfully kept his word, and to the best of his ability
had endeavored to maintain the public peace. It was
even admitted that the very malady from which he
died had been contracted in excessive hours of work
imposed by his employers, and by their not protecting
him in accordance with regulations of plain statutes
and the dictates of humanity.
During Sunday, too, came not a word from her
father's house. Nora would have returned there to
carry off other articles left behind, but her mistress
commanded her to leave things as they were and not
to go back at all. That overtures of any kind would
come from her father she had no idea, nor did she
desire them. In her inheritance, about fifty thou-
sand dollars, she could have as much comfort as she
would need, for of luxury and extravagance she had
seen enough to hate them forever.


CHAPTER XLVIII
Jl ONDAY morning also thus passed, and it was
late in the afternoon of that day when the silence
was first broken between Kate and her relatives. It
was Grandmother Severn who appeared. The old
lady came in with a brisk gait.
"Why, Kate!" said she. "I've just been over to
your father's about this commotion. He's sick abed,
in a terrible state."
"Really."
"What do you mean, running away from your fa-
ther's house?"
"I didn't run away."
"Well, here you are, anyway. What's it all
about?"
"Haven't they told you?"
"Yes, in a way, I suppose. I didn't hear it all be-
cause the doctor said he positively wouldn't let any-
body near him."
"Did Mrs. Severn explain?"
"Why, yes, partly. I'm not going to argue a cer-
tain subject just now, child. What I want is to send
you back home at once. That's your proper place, es-
pecially when your father's sick. What's the use of
running away in this foolish fashion?"
"I didn't run away—I was driven out. You know
that, don't you?"
320


THIEVES
321
"Pshaw! Now, he didn't mean that."
"No?"
"No. That's just his way."
"It's a pretty effective way, it seemed to me—"
"Tut! Tut! You know better, child. Get ready
to go back. He'll forgive you."
"He! Will I forgive him?"
"Your father?"
"I have no father."
"You're old enough to have some sense, dear.
He's been in a rage twice a day the past twenty
years. He didn't mean to drive you away."
"He did everything except to set his dogs on me."
"Oh, you're just a baby, Kitty. Just let this blow
over and don't do anything to make things worse.
Don't go telling everybody that you've left home and
all that."
"They'll find it out soon enough themselves."
"Yes, if you're wicked enough to stay away long,
of course they'll find it out. That's what I mean,
Kitty. You're not going to break his heart."
"He's tried to break mine."
"Nonsense! It's the way you're feeling about—
about that fancy you've taken, I suppose—but let's
not talk of this just now, of course. Go home to
your father, child, and then take that trip abroad and
you'll feel better and so'll your father. It's your duty.
You don't want to kill him, do you?"
"Go on, grandma."
"Of course you don't. Now, there's his will. To
think of his being crazy enough to try to draw a new
will in that tumultuous fashion with his flunkies in the
next room swallowing every item. It shows he was
%


322 THIEVES
out of his senses. You ought to understand the sit-
uation and laugh at it."
"I would laugh if I could cry first."
"Tut! Tut! That's story book talk, that. I just
interfered in the whole business, went down to Short-
ridge's office this morning and asked him if he'd
drawn that will yet, and when he said he'd just about
got it ready, I said to him, 'George Shortridge, just
stop this nonsense. Wallowell's been clear crazy and
you know it,' and he promised me to put the thing
off—'"
"I care not one fig about the will. He can—"
"Yes, I know, but leave that to me. Now just cool
off and go home, say, to-morrow—"
"Grandma, let's understand each other. Father
wouldn't have me back, at present, even if I would
forgive and return. There's something else. I simply
can't live under the same roof with Miriam Severn.
Now, don't interrupt me, please. I mean this now
and forever—"
"And 'amen,' too, I suppose. She'll be over here
herself in an hour or so to do what she can to
straighten things out. You can stand her a few days
again, can't you, and then go abroad respectably,
avoiding her all you can till you marry?"
"I've not the slightest thought of marrying."
"You all say that. Now, this young man—"
"There's not one word of sentiment ever passed
between us, I tell you—"
"You needn't repeat it, Kate. You never told me a
lie in your life."
"Thank you."
"At the same time, child, you seem to have been


THIEVES
323
mighty active interfering in his behalf and without your
father's—"
"They were all persecuting him. I'll explain it all.
Just you listen, will you? Let me do the talking now.
It's my turn. They wanted to crush a good man,
simply because he urged some honest reforms, tried to
force him to sell his little cottage, trumped up charges
against him, had a bribed mayor and chief of police
to trick and involve him, bought up his superior officer
to—"
"Tut! Tut! Is that all?"
"All? All?"
"Yes. Why, Kitty, child, I've been through all
that with your grandfather—I used to tell him it was
wrong to corrupt, as we women call it, public affairs,
but he went on and got worse in it till the day he
died. I simply got used to it. He'd spend a small
fortune to elect a rotten mayor and city council, or
whatever they call it, and then when the people would
try to throw them out he'd up and have the news-
papers howl about the injury it was doing the town
to agitate these things, stirring up the mire to make
it smell farther. That's a way our men have. I was
compelled to stay in it."
"And I'm stepping out of it."
"Child, you're throwing away millions."
"And keeping my self-respect."
Here a maid entered with a card, at the sight of
which the blood came and went from Kate's cheeks,
her eyes widened, and she was in visible agitation.
"Who is it?" asked the grandmother.
"Ask him—ask him to come in," said Kate to the
maid and, wholly forgetting the old lady, she hurried


324 THIEVES
to a mirrow, she touched her hair, she glanced hastily
at her gown. It was John Richardson who entered,
a picture of dignity and sorrow. He had but a few
hours before laid his brother in the grave.
"This is my grandmother, Mr. Richardson."
"Glad to meet you," said the old dame, eyeing him
curiously. "Pleasant day!"
"Exceedingly, madam. I am—am glad to find Miss
Severn here."
"It's very pleasant to see you," responded the grand-
mother.
"I learned you were here from the person who
brought me this. Here, Miss Severn, is an envelope
that belongs to you." He gave her back the sum
with which she had bailed him. Kate did not open
the envelope but laid it on a table. There was a mo-
ment's silence broken by the coming in of Aunt Emma,
who was also introduced to Richardson.
"You needn't be afraid to speak out before me,
young man," said Grandmother Severn. "I know
what Kate did for you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Severn. And as for you, Miss
Severn, the debt of gratit—"
"Now, that's all right, Mr. Richardson," interposed
the old lady. "Don't mention it a bit." Kate, quite
unable to say anything, had sunk into the corner of a
sofa.
"I can't do more than mention it to-day." His
voice trembled.
"Yes," said Kate sympathetically, "we have read
of what has happened."
"I did not know until this hour, Miss Severn, that


THIEVES
325
I owed this immense assistance to you. The money,
you know, Mrs. Severn, was delivered by an unknown
man into my hands while I was under arrest. He
hurried away, leaving no address, no explanation.
To-day the proceedings against me were dismissed
and the money handed back by the court. Later the
man reappeared. He told me he had seen the news-
paper report of my getting the refund and that he
was to carry the money back where it came from.
I suppose the honest fellow was really anxious to let
me know who had done all this for me."
Kate remained silent, much agitated and struggling
to be calm between her pleasure at his presence and
her uncertainty as to what was next to happen.
"Of course," resumed John, "I kept at him until he
satisfied my curiosity about my benefactor. Then he
told me, as he knew from your maid, where you were.
I was never so surprised in my life. I thought you
on your way to Europe. I told him I wished to de-
liver this back in person so I could make some attempt
to thank you. It's a blessing to know—"
Here the maid came in, followed by Mrs. Wallo-
well Severn, whose presence naturally threw con-
straint on everybody. Kate bowed coolly, Aunt Emma
frigidly.
"Ah, grandmother! and you, Kate—"
"This is Mr. Richardson, Mrs. Severn," said Grand-
mother Severn.
"Delighted to meet you, I'm sure," said the lady,
but without warmth.
"I don't mean to interrupt you all, dear—"
"Not at all, Mrs. Severn," said Kate, offering her


THIEVES
329
plainest, the most ignorant emigrants; your father
worked in the shop his own father scraped the money
to build, working beside his own workmen. Your
class! That part of it is good but you're ashamed of
it because it was just common and honest."
Mrs. Severn flushed in anger, but she was in no
position to defy the other.
"Your mother was the daughter of a penniless ad-
venturer who always lived beyond his means, and you
hadn't a dollar until you married father. Always talk-
ing about old family, old family, you Robinsons! Oh,
I'm sick of this American talk about family when
we're all only a generation or two out of overalls.
Your class! You have no class except what our
money gave you. And you talk condescendingly of
John Richardson! Why, you never had an ancestor
with the fiftieth part of that man's education! Leave
me! Leave me! We've settled our accounts, you
and I. I took pity on you when you needed it—and
even now I'll make you a present of your reputation!"
During the increasing vehemence of this outburst,
Mrs. Severn was slowly backing toward the door into
the hall, pale and unable to face the blazing eyes of
honest rage, until as the last words were uttered, she
threw open the outer door and descended hastily into
the garden.
"I've been listening to every word of it!" exclaimed
Aunt Emma, reappearing from the back parlor. "Per-
fectly splendid! What's that about her reputation?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter, Aunt Emma—a flirta-
tion—"
"I thought so an—"
"No, I can't tell you—not now, anyway."


33°
THIEVES
'Oh, I fancy I know all about it—I don't go about
with my eyes shut. But you handled her magnifi-
cently, the common thing! I couldn't have done it
better myself. Sit down, child! Stop pacing up and
down the room this way."
"Did grandmother have anything to say, as she left
you at the front door, about him?"
"Why, yes, something. Sit down."
"What was it?"
"Well, I suppose I shouldn't tell you, but—why
can't you keep still ?—she said that when she was your
age she'd have had that man if she'd had to break her
neck and—"
"Bless her! Bless her heart!"
"—and she was sorry, but now she's older she
thought differently. They lose one your family and
they don't make you certain of a good husband.
There's too much lottery in marriage for the ex-
change."
"There you are, one and all of you! All against
me! Sit down? How can I sit down? Stop mo-
tioning to me. You're all worldly, every one of you.
You've driven him away, the best man in the world.
Oh, if he were a duke or worth twenty millions, what
a fine judgment you'd say I had! Lottery? Oh,
yes, take the chances then. But there he was standing
in that door full of what's better than riches, full of
honor and generosity and courage and a self-sacrific-
ing heart and—and you've driven him away,
driven—"
"Mr. Richardson, if you please, ma'am," said a
maid suddenly entering, Richardson at her very heels.
The three stood a moment confused. Nobody knew


THIEVES
33i
what to say, while he glanced at Kate and then at
her aunt, whom, it was clear, he found in the way.
Pale from sorrow and sleepless nights, he looked as
Leopardi might have conceived dejection.
"I came back to speak—"
Kate's heart stood still.
"Sit down, Mr. Richardson," said Aunt Emma.
"Thank you," but he remained standing.
"Oh, you wished to see Miss Kate privately?"
"If—if you please—"
"Very well!" and with that Aunt Emma left the
room.
Again there was a pause that seemed an hour.
"Miss Severn, I—I've come back for just a word
or two. You don't seem to—"
"I'm—I'm so surprised. Yes—there, there's a
chair—"
"Thank you, I—"
"I'll sit here."
"Miss Severn, I can't keep back longer what I feel.
I don't want to keep it back. I stood outside there—
I paced up and down the square, but I couldn't go
away for good without telling you what's in my heart,
and when I saw your grandmother and Mrs. Severn
leave the house, I—I came back."
Kate, utterly unable to say a word, twisted in silence
the tassels of a pillow.
"It isn't that I expect you to care for me. I know
you care nothing for me except as a friend that your
generous heart has wanted to assist. I know it.
Your silence now tells me that and why should I ask
for more? What could I ever give you in exchange
for luxury and beauty? Oh, I've a thousand times


THIEVES
333
was beginning to see through it all, to outgrow it.
And then I saw you!"
"Oh, Kate, Kate!"
"Hush! I thought it was Aunt Emma! I'm so
nerv—excited! How good your hand feels! Home!
You speak of gay lights in the windows and all that—
who knows better than I what's going on behind them
—gambling, gossip, scandal, and cruel love of money.
Home! I don't know, haven't known for years, what
one day means that passed without a sneer or quarrel
beneath that roof. Oh, why can't I stop these hands
of yours! Home! Why, John, I couldn't stay there!
Had you not come into my life, I had before me only
some cold fashionable marriage—"
"Don't speak of it, Kate!"
"—like Clara Hillman and a dozen others, or one
that, if it begins in love, ends in the squabbles and
gossip that always follow marriage where there's too
much money and nothing to do. I wanted and I've
got a man! Let me talk—let me!—My money!
Why, the only, only pang the loss of it gives me is
that I couldn't give it all to you! Oh, how I used to
imagine myself coming home to your home and mine,
our home—in the evening with my arms full of bun-
dles, rich things for your mother! That's all I wanted
money for. But let that go. What I want now is
peace."
"Peace with me! Oh, I'm sure of that but I have
so little to—"
"Little! You? It's I that can bring you so little.
Think of bringing a man like you only myself! And
you, why, a man like you can make all the money he


334
THIEVES
wants. Of course he can! I could with the tenth
part of a mind like yours. All the great lawyers be-
gan poor, they say. Now, stop worrying about me."
"Was there ever such a girl! But money—"
"Money, money, money! This country's money
mad."
"Yes, money mad, Kate—"
"Why, in our house I never heard anything else
talked of. As for men that had written great books
or done famous things, they were always sneered at
or pitied because they had no bank accounts. Surely
there's something else to live for."
"There is, and remember that when you accept me,
you cast your lot with a man who does not know how
to make money as an object in life—"
"But you'll make them all proud of you, just the
same, John. We'll show them I"
"Make some people proud of me, I hope, but not
all in a country where thus far dignity and honor
have belonged to money. However, the age is chang-
ing from individualism—"
"What's individ—"
"A doctrine that it's none of the government's busi-
ness how much profit anybody makes out of the public.
We are coming now to a modified socialism where the
talents of young men will go into public affairs. Pub-
lic place will become an honor—"
"And you'll be at the top. Money! I've got some
myself, a pittance, they'd call it at home, but if we
have to spend that—"
"Tut, tut!"
"—we'll spend it until you have time to show them
what a brain you have. If people think there's hap-


THIEVES
335
piness in money, let them be born to it and see for
themselves. All my father and his friends do is to
worry about their property, their property, their prop-
erty. Every time the public coughs or sneezes they're
trembling about the effect on business, never planning
to save people's lives or health, but wondering whether
some new law will affect their property."
"There never was a law of property so sacred as a
law of life."
"That's what I say, too—oh, John, how strong you
are! Your muscles are like iron."


EPILOGUE
<<\1/AITER, another whiskey—the same kind. No,
not the Kentucky—the Scotch. The way our
club is managed is an outrage, Dick. The Duquesne
Club's got more millionaires than any other in this
country and nothing but a lot of farmers to run it."
"I see this evening sheet makes a nasty thrust at
Shortridge as usual."
"So? Let's look at it."
"Mr. George Shortridge being asked whether
any credence should be given to his reported en-
gagement to Mrs. Wallowell Severn begged that
such topics be considered matters for purely pri-
vate discussion. He had, he said, no other in-
tention than as executor to confine his attention
to the great properties confided to his charge by
the deceased multi-millionaire.
"Regarding the tariff he was clear that Amer-
ican laborers thoroughly understood that capital
was their best friend against the pauper labor of
Europe. Any reduction that was meditated in
the duties on steel would take into consideration
the cost of fighting strikes and consequent ex-
penses.
"As to workmen's compensation acts, he felt
336


THIEVES
337
the public would be slow to impose these burdens
on the American steel manufacturers in competi-
tion with foreign producers, but when he was
reminded that the foreign producers had long
been carrying that burden too and successfully,
he suddenly became very much interested in his
finger-nails."
"An envious, discontented sheet."
"Anarchistic. I wonder how that girl Kate likes
it now, cut off without a dollar."
"They say she's happy enough with that Richard-
son."
"Happy be damned! And losing millions! Im-
possible!"
"She treated her father cursed shabbily."
"Scandalously. Her man's doing well, they tell
me, getting a good practice. But then, he'll never
have any fortune to speak of, always fooling his time
away with reform statutes and all that."
"Never. And she'll get just what she deserves for
bailing out a man her father had gotten locked up.
I suppose the old man had no legal grounds to jail the
fellow on, but that was his affair, not hers. If he
chose to keep him in jail, no matter why, a good daugh-
ter ought to have helped a father or at least kept her
hands off. Dobbins, my automobile, please, and be
quick about it. The men about this club are not fit
for cattle yards."
"Another Scotch? Yes. And that fellow Rich-
ardson, as I say, will never have anything. Reform-
ing things!"


"It has the picaresque quality which makes Gil Bias a joy for
ever. . . . His comments on life and manners with whicl
the book abounds are a rare combination of seriousness an(
lightness."
—Chicago Inter-Ocean.
"An unusually fine style, a delicate choice of words, tha
makes its reading a pleasure to be lingered over."
—Boston Globe.
"A story written after the manner of Gil Bias . . . deserve:
to be widely popular."
lit Lake Tribune.
"A reminder of Goldsmith, though not in the sense of imita-
tion . . . comes close to being real literature . . . may b<
picked up at any time and opened anywhere."
—Denver Republican.
"The staid and simple phrasing of Addison's 'Essays' or Gold-
smith's 'Vicar of Wakefield' . . . whimsical humor."
—The Bookman.
"Curious to read such language in the time of the electric
light."
—The Sun.
"The literary manners of the eighteenth century brought up
to date, and it is great fun, too."
—Chicago Tribune.
"The new author has literary gifts of no common kind."
—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.
"An air of Roderick Random . . . directness, force, occa-
sional irony."
—Hartford Courant.
"Whoever wrote this story had simultaneously a grasp of an
effective narrative style and at the same time an intimate knowl-
edge of social and business modes of life. The authorship will
naturally excite a keen interest, for under a thin veil, the storj
unquestionably sets forth actual conditions and episodes in met-
ropolitan circles."
—Washington Star.
"The charm of the book ... is the manner in which it is
written ... a most refreshing contrast to the hurricane
methods of most modern American writers. . . . We could
not help imagining that we had taken up one of Goldsmith's
novels by mistake or were reading an essay in the Spectator.
. . . The plot and the incidents harmonize with the style.
They are lively and varied but never unhealthily exciting.
. . . The gratifying surprise caused by the contents"
—The World (London).
DUFFELDf^lCOMPANY


A