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ROCKHAVEN

Tbe Old Tide-hill.

ROCKHAVEN

CHARLES CLARK MUNN

AUTHOR OF '• POCKITT ISLAND " AND •< ONCLE TERRY '

ILLUSTRATED Br

FRANK T. MERRILL

TORONTO

McLEOD AND ALLEN

1902

POBLnUKD MABCH, 1902.

^f-^i

OopTBiavt, IMS, ar L>b ard Shbpab*,

AU BtgMa Settrvtd.

Nottoooti ymw

J. ■. CwbliiK k Co. - Benriek *
Nonrood Mih. U.8^

00938162

VLtt <sa

WHO DK3PISE HYPOCRISY AND DECEPTIOK

WHO ADMIRE MANLY COURAGE AND WOMANLY DEVOTION

WHOSE HEAFtTS YET VIBRATE TO THE

CHORDS OF ROMANCE

AND WHO RESPECT SIMPLE rAITH IN AND

OHATITCDE TO GOD

Zia Book in SciptrtfuUi Otlicattlr

BY THE AUmOB

CONTENTS

!• Ok Roc'kbaven ,

n. Witcjf Hardy jo

III. The Rockhaveh Granite Compaht . . 18

rV. Where the 8ea-oull8 come .... 26

V. Jess Hdtton m

VL The Bod of a Romakce 45

VU. Scsday on Rockbaven 53

VIII. The Hand of Fate gj

IX. A Friendly Hand gg

X. MoNA Hotton 75

XI, The Devil's Oven 83

XII. The Parting of the Ways .... 92

XIII. Wild Robes 99

XIV. J. Malcolm Weston 112

XV. A Matter of Bcsiness jjg

XVI. The Growth of a Bubble . . . .126

XVII. In the Path of Moonlight . . . .133

XVm. In A Fog I43

XIX. A Philosopher jjq

XX. A Cloud over Rockhaven . . . .156

XXI. The Mood of the Bells . . . .168

XXn. Two Rascals 178

Tii

Tin CONTENTS

OtAPTIB WAam

XXm. The Staktino or a "Corher" . . 188

XXIV. The Progress of a "Corner" . . 188

XXV. A 8i'iiiiER Day ISl

XXVI. A Climax 202

XXVII. Severino the Ties 208

XXVIII. O-v 'Cha-ngk 214

XXIX. The Bdbble rise* 220

XXX. Th.' Bubble bursts 227

XXXI. Two Doos akd a Bome . . .238

XXXII. The Aftermath of a Swindle . . 248

XXXIII. A Touch of Heroism . . . .262

XXXIV A Woman's Wiles 260

XXXV. The Wheel of Fortune .... 372

XXXVI. Going, Going, Gone I 281

XXXVII. A Social Cynic 288

XXXVin. The End of as Idyl 205

XXXIX. A Gray-baired Romance .... 802

XL. A Good Senivoff 812

XLI. Ein Wunderbareb Fraulein . . . 819

XLII. The Road to the Temple ... 829

XLIII. The Cynic's Shadow 889

XLIV. Only a Mood 851

XLV. The Old Home 860

XL VI. A New Stab 886

XLVn. Love Eternal 876

XLVm. Conclusion 888

ILLUSTRATIONS

T« Old T,D..M.LL /Von/upioc.

MONA

Jl88 HUTTOK, PbilOSOPRER jgg

The Dktu'j Oven 208

The Bubble Borbts 227

KociHAVEir .-•

ROCKHAVEN

CHAPTER I

ON BOCKBATIN

" It ain't more'n onct in a lifetime," said Jess
Hutton to the crowd of friends in his store, " that
luck comes thick 'n' fat to any on us 'n' so fer that
reason I sent over to the mainland fer Buthin' o' a
liquid natur; 'n' now take hold, all hands, 'n' injie
yerselves on Jess."

With that he began setting forth upon the counter,
in battle array, dozens upon dozens of bottles filled
with dark brown liquid and interspersed with boxes
of cigars. For Jess Hutton, the oracle, principal
storekeeper, first selectman, school committeeman,
prize story teller, philosopher and friend to every-
body on Rockhaven island, had sold a few acres of
granite ledge he set no value upon, for two thousand
dollars, half cash down ; and being a man of gener-
ous impulses, had invited the circle of friends most
1

* ROCXIIAVBN

congenial, to "drop round teniight 'n' I'll let 'em
up."

It is true that the cigars he pasted out so freely
were not iraiiorted, still they wore the best ho kept,
and not tlio cheap brand most in demand on Rock-
haven, and the bottles contained the vintage of hops
and malt instead of "extra dry," but both wore
urged up<m all in a way that le.t refusal impossible.

Vnd of that unique gathering of men, with sca-
tu,...cd faces, garbed mainly in shirt, trousers, md
sailor caps, some wearing boots, some Hlippers, some
barefoot, nearly all addressed one another as " Cap "
or " Cap'n," for to own a fishing sloop or jigger on
Rockhaven meant distinction.

" I dunno how it all come about," said Jess, when
the popping of corks had ceased and the intense of
cabbapi- leaves began to arise, '• but I was sorter
dozin' on the counter that day when this bloomin'
freak, with white duck pants, 'n' cap, 'n' shirt, 'n'
gray side whiskera, blow in, 'n' the fust I know'd, I
heerd him say, 'Come, wake up, B'n Van Winkle 1
I want tt'r buy y 3r quarry 1 '

" Then I sot up 'n' rubbed my eyes 'n' looked at
him, sure he must be one o' them make-believe sailors
off a yacht I'd seen run in the night afore, 'n' had
come ashore with skates on.

ON BOCKIIAVCN g

" ' Want ter buy what < ' 1 iez. ' Want ter buy
yer quarry,' he aer. again. ' 1 hoc-rd yo ownwl tliu une
t'other aide o' the harbor, 'n' it" ye want ter sell it
cheap, I'll buy it.' Then 1 looked ut hiiu liiir<ler'ii
ever; aure he had a jag 'n' was ninkiii' game o' iiii'.

" ' Yea,' 1 sez, ' I'll aell ye the quarry, oi the hull
island, if yo ain't sure ye own it already. Helter nn
into the back o' the store 'n' lay down on a pile o' old
(ails ye'U find tlior, 'n' sleep it off. ThingH'll look
more nat'ral to ye by that time.' With that he latfid
fit ter split. ' You're all right, old sjmrt,' ho scz, ' but
I ain't drunk, 'n' if ye'U set the price low enough, I'll
buy yer quarry and i)ay ye cash fer't.'

■ Wal,'I sez, thinkin' I'd set the price high 'no\igh
tor knock him galley west, ' I'll take three thousand
dollars fer't.'

" ' I'll give ye two,' he said,"n' pay yer half down.'
' Hov ye got it with ye T I sed. ' I hcv,' ho sai 1,
' aboord th> boat, or I'll give ye a check.' ' Checks
don't go here,' J said, ' but if yo've got real money, 'n'
mean business, it's yourn at that figger.' Then ho
went off, 'n' I was so sure I'd never set eyes on him
ag'in I went ter sleep. It didn't seem five minutrs
till he blew in ag'in. ' How many acres o' that ledge
do ye own,' he said, ' an' how many goes with the
quarry ? ' ' Wall,' I said, ' there's about a hundred.

* BOCKIIAVBN

'n' if that ain't nuff ter keep ye busy blastin' the rest
o' yer nateral life, I'U throw in the hull o' Norse
Hill jist ter bind the bargain,' fer I didn't no more
s'pose he meant bizniss than I s'posed I'd got wings.
' Wal,' he says, puUin' out a roll o' bills bigger'n ray
arm. ' Here's the kale seed, an' when ye'U show me
what I'm buyin' 'n' a deed on't, it's yourn.'

"Wal, I jist pinched myself, ter see if I was
'wake, an' jumpin' off the counter, fished a deed out
o' my safe 'n' took it 'long, an' showed him round the
ied{ believin' all the time when he'd seen it, he'd
tell me ter go soak my head, er suthin' o' that sort.
But he didn't, an' arter I got hold o' the money 'n'
counted it, wondcrin' if it wasn't all bogus, 'n'give
him a receipt, 'n' he'd gone off, I went 'n' stuck a pin
into ray leg, jist ter be sure I was awake, after all.
That was a week ago," continued Jess, lighting one
of the cigars he had set forth, "but I didn't say
nuthin' 'bout it till I'd gone ashore with the money
an' the hank folks hed said it was all right, 'n' now I
think I've lost jist a thousand dollars by not askin'
four for't. Why, the loonytic acted as though he
owned a printin' press that made money, an' was
goin' all the time."

" Wish I'd been ashore," observed Captain Moore,
who was one of the group, " I'd a tackled him ter

ON KOCKHAVEN 6

buy the Nancy Jane. She's been lyin' inside o' the
harbor, half full o' bilge water, fer more'n a year, an'
ain't wuth scuttlin'. Ye'd orter 'a thought on't, Jess,
an' persuaded him he could 'a used 'r to carry stun
in."

" An' if I'd a-knowed it," put in Cap'n Jet Doty,
another of the group, " I'd a tried him on 'bout a
hundred kit o' mackerel we've got that's a trifful
rusty. He cud a-used 'em somehow. Ye'd orter
think o' yer neighbors, Jess, in such a case, an' let
'em in on't."

" I dunno but ye're right," responded Jess ; " but
I wus caught nappin', 'n' I cac'late that if any o' ye
hed been woke up by sech a lubber with gray whisk-
ers, like stun'sls, an' dude does like these jackdaw
yachters wear, an oflferin' ye two thousand dollars
fer what ye'd sell fer fifty, an' no takers, ye'd a-bin
sot back, so ter speak. If I'd a hed time ter think
an' knowed what an easy mark the cuss was, I'd
a-laid ter sell him the hull island 'n' divided it up all
round."

And be it said that if all the landowners of Rock-
haven had obtained even what they valued their hold-
ings at, they would have sold cheerfully, for oat of
the eighty odd square miles of the island, not one
quarter was of soil, and much of that so sandy that

" BOCKHAVMT

only bayberry bushee and wild roses grew on it, or
else thickets of stunted spruce. The only means of
livelihood to most was the sea, and if nature had not
endowed the island with a capacious land-locked har-
bor and a few acres of productive soil beyond it, and
shut in by waU-like shores, Kockhaven would have
been left to the sea-gulls that infested its cliffs, or the
fish-hawks that found its harbor good fishing ground.
" What 'd ye s'pose he's goin' ter do with it, now
he's got it ? " put in Cap'n Doty, when Jess had fin-
ished his recital, and having in mind his stock of
rusty mackerel. " WiU he come down here 'n' go ter
quarryin' ? " >

"Mebbe he wants it fer ballast fer a new boat," in-
terposed young Dave Moore. " Or fer buildin' a
house," put in Dave's brother, Sam. " Cheer up,
uncle, we may sell him the Nancy Jane yit. He'll
hev ter hire or buy suthin' ter carry stun 'way from
the island. He can't make a raft on't."

" An' if he does," asserted Cap'n Moore, address-
ing Cap'n Doty, who sat opposite him on a cracker
barrel, "ye'd git a chance to work off them
mackerel."

" I dunno what he's goin' ter do with it," assorted
Jess, when a pause came, " nor care, so long's I git
t'other thousand as is comin' when deeds is passed.

ON BOCKIIAVEN 7

I ain't sure I'll git that, either," he added candidly,
" but if I don't the quarry's still mine 'n' a cool thou-
sand o' that freak's good money's gone out o' circu-
lation anyhow, which is some comfort."

Then came a lull in conversation, and in place the
popping of more corks and " Here's to yer good luck,
Jess," as bottles were elevated and pointed downward.

" Come, Jess," said Dave Moore, when this second
libation had been indulged in, and who was in a
mood for hea'iig yams, "tell 'em 'bout old Bill
Atlas."

Now this tale, antedating the day and generation
of most of Jess Hutton's auditors, was nevertheless
a favorite with him and one he always enjoyed tell-
ing.

" Wal," he said, " if ye want ter hear 'bout old
Bill, I'll tell ye, though some o' ye here hez heerd
'bout him afore, I reckon. It's been a good many
years since Bill took to his wings, humsoever, 'n' so
his hist'ry may be divartin'. Bill used ter live all
'lone in a little shack he'd built out o' drift, half way
'tween here and Northaven. That i .le slept thar
nights when he was ashore, fer he was away fishiii'
most o' the time. He were the worst soaker on the
island, an' from the time he sot foot ashore 'n' got his
pay until every cent was spent, he didn't draw a sober

BOOKRAVEK

i :!

■i 'I

breath. Thar wan't no use arguin' with Bill, or
doin' anything to reform him. Jist the moment he
got a dollar, jist that moment he started in ter git
drunk V alius succeeded. Even Parson Bush, who
hed jist come here then 'n' anxious ter do good, failed
on Bill. No 'mount o' argufyin' 'bout the worm that
never dies or the fate o' sinners hed a mite o' influ-
ence on Bill.

" ' Parson,' he'd say, ' ttiar ain't no use a-talkin'
ter me. Licker was made ter be drunk, else why was
it made at all, W if the Lord Almighty didn't cac'late
fer me ter drink it, why did he make me hanker
for't ? Ye jist 'preach ter them as is like ter mind
it an'U foller it. I ain't, an' it'll do no good.' An'
then Bill 'd roll away an' fill up. He wa'n't a quar-
relsome cuss, jist a good-natured soaker who meant
ter git drunk, 'n' done it, an' never meant ter bother
nobody when be was.

" But some on us young folks in them days sot out
to hev fun with Bill once upon a time, an' we did,
an' more'n that, we joggled him so he quit drinkin'
fer most a year. He'd had one er two fits o' tremens
afore that time, 'n' had sorter got skeery 'bout seein'
things, so our trick worked fust rate. One o' the
smacks hed jist brought in a hogfish that day, an' it
was the worst lookin' critter that ever growed in the

ON KOCSnATEN 9

sea. It weighed 'bout fifty poun' 'n' was 'most all
mouth 'n' teeth. Bill was up in the comer o' a
fish house sleepin' off a jag when the critter was
h'isted onto the dock, 'n' the moment we spied it we
said we'd try it on Bill. We told everybody ter keep
quiet 'n' then we went at it. Fust we lugged the
hogfish over ter Bill's shack, which was out on the
end o' a little pint 'n' sorter shut in 'tween the rocks,
'n' then we got an old bit o' sail and went ter work.
We sot the critter up on stuns, right in front o' the
shack, 'n' made a tail 'bout forty feet long out o' the
s.; ', an' stuffed it nat'ral like, 'n' then rigged lines
running over the shanty to work the critter's mouth
'n' tail up 'n' down when the time come. It was 'long
in the artemoon whdn we sot about 'n' we cac'lated
Bill 'd wake up sjmetime arter dark 'n' come to his
shack in jist the mood ter 'preoiat« the good thing
that we bed waitin' fer him. Then to sorter liven
up matters, we took a handful o' matches, an' damp-
enin' 'em, rubbed the ends round the eyes an' mouth
o' the critter, 'n' in spots 'long the tail, where we was
to hist it a little. It was clear dark afore we got the
trap all sot 'n' baited, 'n' then five on us took the lines
and tried the joke. It worked pretty slick, 'n' ter see
that critter's mouth, more'n a foot long 'n' full o'
teeth, 'n' eyes with rings of phosphorus round 'em,

BOOKUATXH

a-workin' up an' down, to say no*" 'u' 'bout the tail,
would a-skeered a sober man into fits arter dark, let
alone one who 'spected snakes. When Bill's wel-
come home was all ready, we sot a watch on Bill, who
was stili asleep, 'n' the rest on us went home ter sup-
per. Then we got together, 'bout two dozen on us
that knew Bill best, 'n' gittin' sheets ter wrap up in,
to sorter stiffen the hogfiah effect, all hands hid round
his shanty an' inside on't. It was purty late 'fore
Bill showed up, but he came 'long finally, kind o' wob-
blin' some and hummin' : —

" ' I'm a gallant laas as ever you see,
And the roving sailor winked at me.'

" Bill was alius feeJin' that way when half full 'n'
now jist happy 'n' comfortable like. There was a
new moon that sorter lit up the path, 'n' jist as he
got to where it made a turn, 'bout ten feet from the
shanty, I made a signal by squeakin' like a gull, an'
the boys begun workin' the lines, 'n' 'bout two dozen
white figgers rose up from behind the rocks or stepped
out o' the cabin. I never knew which skeered Bill
the worst, the awful critter snappin' at him thar in
the path, or the ghosts, for Bill gave one screech
that could a' been heard five mile, 'n' ye never E^en
a man run the way he did. He didn't stop ter keep
in the path either, but jist went right over the rocks

ON ROCKItAVXN

anywhere. He tumbled two or three times 'fore he
got out o' sight, 'n' you'd a-thought he was made 'o
rubber, the way he got up 'n' yelled, ' Help, help,
O Lord,' all the time. I'll 'low it was the fust time
he'd ever called on the Lord fer help, but it "Au'n't 'ae
last, fer he made straight fer the parson's house 'n'
begun pummellin' on the door.

" ' O Lord, take me in,' he said when the parson
opened it, ' I'm come fer at last 'n' the divil's arter
me. Pray fer me, parson, an' for God's sake, do it
quick ! ' An' then he went down on his knees, 'n'
sayin', ' Lordy, Lordy, I'll never drink 'nother drop's
long's I live ! ' Parson Bush was a good deal took
back, fer he didn't know the joke, 'n' 'lowed Bill had
the tremena. ' Better go back to yer shanty, ye sot,'
he said, ' an' when you git sober come here 'n' I'll
talk with ye,' an' with that he shot the door 'n' Bill
jist laid down 'n' bellowed like a calf. 'N' he didn't
go back to his shenty, either, that night, not by a jug-
ful; he'd seen 'nough o' that spot ter last him quite
a spell. 'W when ho did thar wam't nuthin' out o'
ordinary, fer we'd chucked the hogfish off the
rocks, 'n' 'twas more 'n a year 'foro Bill found out
the trick we played, 'n' in all that time he kept sober.
He did find out arter a spell, fer a joke like that can't
be kept aUus, 'n' when Bill did, he took ter drink agin,

BOCKBAVEIT

1'^

'n' finally jumped off the dock one night in a fit o'
the jima 'n' that was the last o' him. It's hard to
larn an old dog new tricks."

For an hour the little crowd of Jess Ilutton's
friends lingered, wondering and speculating on what
the outcome of this investment in a granite ledge
would be. To most it seemed a piece of folly or
the act of a madman. These worthless rocks had
stared them in tlio face so many years, had so inter-
fered with house building, or the convenient placing
of fish racks, or road making, that they had one and
all come to hate their very sight. In their estimation
they were a nuisance and a curse, and for any
sane man to buy. twenty acres of ledge to quarry and
transport five hunr' jd miles, seemed worse than
folly.

Then, having given due expression to this com-
mon sentiment, and congratulating Jess upon his
good luck, they shook hands with him and went their
way. And when the sound of their footsteps upon the
one narrow plank walk of Eoekhaven had ceased, and
only the murmur of the near-by ocean was heard,
Jess, as was his wont when lonesome, drew his old
brown fiddle from its hiding place and sought conso-
lation from its strings. And also, as usual, the melo-
dies were the songs of Bonnie Scotland.

CHAPTER II

WINN HABDT

Winn Hahdy, born and reared where the tinkle of
the cow beUs on the hillside pastures, or the call of
the village church bell on Sunday was the most ex-
citing incident, and a crossroads schoolhouse the only
temple of learning, reached the age of fourteen as
utterly untainted by knowledge of the world as the
birds that annually visited the old farm orchards.
And then came a catastrophe in his life which ended
in two freshly made graves in the village cemetery,
and ho was thrust into tho whirl of city life, to make
his home with a widowed aunt, a Mrs. Converse, who
felt it her duty to complete his education by a two
years' course at a business college.

It was a scant educational outfit with which to
carve his way to fame and fortime, but many a man
icceeds who has less, and Winn might have been
worse off.

He Lad one unfortunate and serious fact to con-
tend with, however, and tl at was a mercurial disposi-
18

BOCKIIAVXN

tion. When the world and his asgociateg seemed to
•mile, he soared amid the rosy clouds of optimiBm,
and when things went wrong, he lost his courage.

His first step in wage-earning (a menial jiosition
in a store, with scanty pay which scarce sufficed to
clothe him) soon convinced him how hard a iisk
earning a livelihood was, and that no one obtained a
penny unless he fought for it. Then through the
influence of his aunt, he obtained an eaisier berth as
copy clerk in the office of Weston & Hill, whose busi-
ness was the investing of other peoph/s money, and
while his hours of service were less, his pay was no
better. Three years of this resulted iu slow advance-
ment to a junior bookkeeper's desk and better pay.
It also broadened his list of acquaintances, for he
joined a club, the membership of which was decid-
edly mixed, and not all of the best kind of associates
for Wiun.

His aunt, a shallow though well-meaning woman,
devoted to church work, gossip, and her pet poodle,
considering Winn an unfortunate addition to her
cares, held but scant influence over him. She fur-
nished him a home to sleep and eat in without c st,
ur^ed him to attend church with her, cautioned h^^i
against evil associates ; but beyond that she could not
and did not go. So Winn drifted. He saved a little

WIMN tlABDT

money, realizing that he must, or be forever helpleM
and dependent; ho learned the glang of the town
and its ways, and forgot for a time the wholesome
lessons of his early life. IIo also grew more mercu-
rial, and, worse tlian that, he grew cynical.

On all sides, and go where ho would, the arrogance
of wealth seemed to hedge him about and force upon
him the realization that ho was but a poorly paid book-
keeper, and not likely to become aught else. And
then a worse mishap befell him — he met and bcciune
attached to Jack Nickerson.

There is in every club, and in erery walk in life,
wherever a young man's feet muy stray, some one it
were better he never met — a Mephistopheles in male
garb, whose wit and ways of pleasure-taking are allur-
ing, whose manners are perfect, whose pockets are
well filled ; and alas, whose morals are a matter of
convenience.

That Winn, honest and wholesome-minded coun-
try -born fellow that he was, should be attracted by
tliis product of fast city life is not strange. It is the
attraction that allures the moth toward the flame, the
good toward evil. Follow Nickerson in that course,
Winn would not and did not ; he merely admired him
for his wit, felt half tempted to emulate his vices,
absorbed his scepticism — for Jack Nickerson in

lOCKlIAVKN

addition to hii vice* wai a cynic of the most impla-
cable sort. With him all religion was hyjxHjrisy, all
virtue a folly, and all truth a farop. lie had income
■uiBcient to live well ui)on, gambled for a pastime,
was at the race tracks whenever chanc? offered, was
cheek by jowl with the sporting fraternity, a man
about town and hail fellow well met with all.

Per contra, he was generous to a fault, laughed
most when he uttered his sharpest sneers, was polished
and refined in his tastes and a gentleman always.

One distinguished novelist has deified such a man,
and made him a hero of her numerous tales.

To Winn ho appealed more as a fascinating, world-
wise sceptic, whoso shafts of satire were gospel truths,
and whose Sybarite sort of existence was worthy of
emulation, if one only had the money to follow it.
Then, as if to cap the climax and Winn's cynical
education, he fell in love with Ethel Sherman, a
beauty and a natural-bom flirt, whose ideas of life
and maternal training liad convinced her that mar-
riage was a matter of business, and a means by which
to obtain position and wealth.

Her family were people of moderate means, liv-
ing near neighbors to Winn's aunt and attending the
same church. She had an elder sister, Grace, who
had, in her estimation, wrecked her life by marrying

WINN IIARDT

B poor man. And when Winn Hardy, young, hand-
some, and callow, first met her, she was just home
from boarding-school, ready to spread her tooial
wings, and ripe for conquest.

Winn's aunt was also smnowhat to blame in the
matter, for she, like many good women, lov d to
dabble in match-making, and in her simple mind fan-
cied it a wise move to bring one about between Ethel
and Winn.

Ite results were disastrous to his peace of mind,
for, after dancing attendance for a year and spending
half he earned on flowers and theatre tickets, his
suit was laughed at and he was assured that only a
rich young man was eligible to her favor.

Then he went back to Jack Nickerson, and, though
he outgrew his folly, his impulsive nature became
more pronounced and he a more bitter cynic than
ever. For two years he was but a cipher in business
and social life, a poorly paid bookkeeper in tlio offiou
of Weston & Hill, a drop in the rushing, pushing,
strenuous life of the city ; and then came a change.

CHAPTER III

THE EOCKHAVBN OBANITB COMPANY

" Please stop into my private office, Mr. Hardy,"
said J. Malcolm Weston, head of Weston & Hill, bank-
ers, brokers, and investment securities, as stated on the
two massive nickel plates that flanked their doorway,
" I have a matter of business to discuss with you."

Ordinarily Mr. J. Malcolm Weston would have
said, "You may step into my private office, Mr.
Hardy," when, as in this case, he addressed his book-
keeper, for Mr. Weston never forgot his dignity in
the presence of a subordinate. It may bo added that
he never forgot to address a possible customer as
though he owned millions, for J. Malcolm Weston
was master of the fine art of obseqi.ious deference, and
his persuasive smile, cordial hand grasp, and copious
use of flowery language had cost many a cautious man
hundreds of dollars. Mr. Weston can best be de-
scribed as unctuous, and belonged to that class of men
who part their names and hair in the middle, but make
no division in money matters, merely taking it all.
When Winn Hardy had obeyed his employer's
18

THE BOCKUAVEN GRANITE COMPANY 19

suave invitation and was seated ir his presence, ho
was made to feel that he had sudc-enly stepped into
a sunnier clime.

"It gives me great pleasui,-, Mr. liairly," con-
tinued Weston, " to inform you f. „. ,,■.■ i.a^ e decided
to enlarge your sphere of duty with us, and I may sav
responsibilities. Mr. Hill and myself have consid-
ered the matter carefully, and, in view of your faith-
ful and efficient services, we shall from now on confide
to you the management of an outside matter of great
importance. Please examine this prospectus, which
will appear tomorrow in all the papers of this city."

Winn took the typewritten document tendered him
and carefully scanned its contents. To show its im-
portance it is given in full, though with reduced
headlines : —

THE EOCKHAVKN GRANITE COMPANY.
CAPITAL, «1,000,000.00.
Stock non-assessable. shares Hl.OO each.

Par Value, 810.00.
President, J. Malcolm Weston.
Board of Directors :
J. Malcolm Weston of Weston & Hill.
William M. Simmons, Member of Stock Exchange
William B. Codman, President National Bank of' Discount.
Samuel H. Wiseman, Real Estat* Broker.
L. Orton Brown, Secretary Board of Trade.
Office of Company.- Weston & Hill, Bankers, Brokers, and In-
vestments.

BOCKHAVEN

PEOSPECTUS

This Company has purchased and now owns the
finest granite quarries in the world, over one mile in
length and half that in width, fronting upon the
land-locked harhor on the island of Rockhaven. It
has a full and perfect equipment of steam drills, en-
gines, derricks, an excellent wharf, vessels for trans-
porting freight, and all modern appliances for car-
rying on the business of quarrying.

It is well known that the rapid growth of architec-
tural taste produces an ever increasing demand for
this, the best of all building stone, and as we furnish
the finest quality of granite, having that beautiful
pink tint so much admired by architects, you can
readily see that our advantages and prospects are
limitless. This is no delusive schc:ue for gold mining
or oil boring, but a solid and practical business that
guarantees sure returns and certain dividends.
^ Our supply of granite is exhaustless, the market
limitless, and all that we need to develop this quarry
and obtain lucrative returns is a little additional
capital. For this purpose fifty thousand shares of
the capital stock are now offered for sale at one
dollar per share, so that the investor may receive the
benefit of the advance to par which will follow, as
well as the liberal dividends which will surely accrue.

THE BOCKIIAVEN GRANITE COMPANY

The price of stock will be advanced from time to
time, as it is taken np.

Subscription books now open at the office of

Weston & Hill^ Financiers.

" It reads well," observed Winn, after he had pe-
rused this alhiing advertisement, "and I should
imagine an investment in a granite quarry might
seem a safe one."

" Yes, decidedly safe as well as secure," replied J.
Malcolm Weston, with a twinkle in his steely blue
eyes not observed by Winn. " I wrote that ad with
the intention of attracting investors who desire a
solid investment for their money, and fancy I have
succeeded. You noticed, perhaps, my allusion to
gold mines and oil wells that h- ,'e recently proved 'o
elusive." Then taking a b( igars, and passing

them to Winn, and elevating ..= xeet to a desk, as if
to enjoy the telling of a pleasant episode, Mr. Weston
continued: "That prospectus (which I pride my-
self is an artistic piece of work) will attract just
the class of men who have grown suspicious of all
sorts of schemes. It is this element of solidity and
certainty that we shall elaborate upon. Now I will
tell you about our plan and how you are to assist us
in carrying it out. As you may recall, I was away

<-i

BOCKHAVBW

lit

li;:

last summer with Simmons on his vaeht, and while
on our trip we landed upon nn island called Boct.-
haven, up the north coast. It is sort of a double
island, half cut in two by a safe harbor, and popu-
lated by a few liundred simple fisher-folk. We re-
mained there a few days looking over the island, and
I noticed that some one had started quarrying the
granite of which the island is composed. That, and
the location of the quarry, which faced this harbor,
set me thinking. It ended in my inquiring out
the owner, an eccentric old fellow who kept a small
store and fiddled when he hadn't any customers, and
finally buying the quarry. I paid him one thousand
down, and we are to pay him one thousand more
when deeds are passed. We are now going to send
you up there to complete the purchase. Daying him
the balance, if you can, in stock ; thei. u , 3 men, im-
prove the dock, set up the machinery we shaU send
you, and begin quarrying operations. That will be
one of your duties. The other, and principal,one will
be to get the natives interested in this home industry,
and sell stock to them. To this end it may be neces-
sary for you to give a little away to those whose in-
fluence may be of value. We have alveh.-iy booked
several orders for building stone, which you will get
out as per specifications and shipments. It will bfl

TUB BOCKUAVION OBANITE COMPANY

necessary for you to hire one or two vessels for this
purpose, or else contract for delivery of stone to us
at so much per cargo. There is a small steamer which
makes regular trips to this island, so we can reach
you by mail.

" Now there is another matter, also of great im-
portance. In order to stimulate your interest in the
success of this enterpri.se, we shall make you a present
of five hundred shares of this stock provided you can
raise the money to purchase, at one dollar per share,
another block of five hundred, or, what would an-
swer as well, induce your a"nt to do so."

It was the glittering bait, intended by the wily
Weston to catch and hold his dupe, Winn Hardy.

" I have some money laid away," answered Winn,
his sense of caution obscured by this alluring offer,
" and with a little help from my aunt, I feel sure I
can manage it ; at least, I will try."

" We do not need this investment of five hundred
dollars on your part, Mr. Hardy," continued Weston,
in a grandiloquent tone; "as you must be aware, it is
but a drop in the bucket, and we only wish it to induce
your more hearty cooperation in pushing this enter-
prise to a successful ending. If we make money, as
we are sure to do, you will also share in it. It is need-
less for me to tell you that this is the golden oppor-

:y|

■n

- it

BOCKUATEN

•f

tunity of your life, and if you take hold with a will,
and not only manage this quarry with good business
discretion, but, what is of more importance, sell all
the stock you can, you will reap a small fortune.
This enterprise is sure to be a money-maker and we
expect inside of a year to see Kockhaven go to ten,
twenty, or possibly thirty dollars per share."

And Winn Hardy, though sophisticated in a mi-
nor degree, believed it, and true to his nature, leaped
at once into the clouds, where sudden riches and all
that follows seemed within his grasp. Not only did
he easily persuade his excellent, though credulous,
aunt, to lend him the money ho needed, but when he
left for his new field of labor, he had so impressed her
with his newly acquired delusion that she made haste
to call upon Weston & Hill and invest a few thousand
herself.

How disastrous that venture proved and how much
woe and sorrow followed need not be specified at
present. True to her feminine nature, she told no
one, not even Winn, of her investment ; and until the
meteoric career of Rockhaven had become ancient
history on the street, only the books of those shrewd
schemers and her own safe deposit box knew her se-
cret.

CHAPTER IV

WHEBE THE SEA-OtJLLS COME

Like a pair of Titanic spectacles joined with a
bridge of granite, the two halves of Rockhaven faced
the Atlantic billows, as grim and defiant as when
Leif Ericson's crew of fearless Norsemen sailed into
its beautiful harbor. With a coast line of bold cliffs,
indented by occasional fissures and crested with
stunted spruce, the interior, sloping toward the cen-
tre, hears only the whisper of the ocean winds.

Rockliaven has a history, and it is one filled with
the pathos of poverty, from that day, long ago,
when Captain Carver first sailed into its land-locked
harbor to split, salt, and dry his sloop load of cod on
the sunny slope of a granite ledge, until now, when
two straggling villages of tiny houses, interspersed
with racks for drying cod, a few untidy fishing
smacks tied up at its small wharves, and a little
steamboat that daily journeys back and forth to the
main land, thirty miles distant, entitles it to be called
inhabited. In that history also is incorporated many
2fi

BOCKUATZN

ghastly tales of shipwreck on its forbidding and wave-
beaten shores, of long winters when its ledges and
ravines were buried beneath a pall of snow, its little
fleet of fishermen storm-stayed in tlie harbor, and
food and fuel scarce. It also has its romantic tales of
love and waiting to end in despair, when some fisher
boy sailed away and never came back; and one that
had a tragic ending, when a fond and foolish maiden
ended years of waiting by hanging herseM in the old
tide mill.

And, too, it has had its religious revival, when a
wave of Bible reading and conversion swept over its
poorly fed people, to be followed by a split in its one
Baptist church on the merits and truths of close
communion or its opposite, to end in the formation
of another.

It also had its moods, fair and charming when the
warm south wind barely ripples the blue sea about,
the wild roses smile between its granite ledges, and
the sea-gulls sail leisurely over them; or else gloomy
and solemn when it lies hid under a pall of fog while
the ocean surges boom and beUow along its rock-
ribbed shore.

On the inner and right-hand shore of the secure
harbor, a smaU fishing village fringes both sides of a
long street, and at the head of the harbor, one mile

WHIBB THK BEA-OULtS COME

aw»/ stands another hamlet. The first and larger
villafte is called RocVhaven, the other Northaven.
Each has its little church and schoolhouse, also used
to- town meetings, its one or two general stores, and a
post-office. Those in Rockhaven. where fishing is the
sole industry, are permeated with that salty odor of
cured fish, combined with tar, coflFee, and kerosene;
and scattered over the interior are a score of modest
farmhouses.

At one end of the harbor, and where the village of
Northaven stands, a natural gateway of rock almost
cuts off a portion of the harbor, and here was an old
tide mill, built of unhewn stone, but now unused, its
roof fallen in, its gates rotted away, and the abut-
ments that once held it in place now used to support
a bridge.

On one of the headlands just north of Rockhaven
viUage, and known as Norse HiU, stands a peculiar
structure, a circular stone tower open at the top and
with an entrance on the inner or landward side. Tra-
dition says this was built by the Norsemen as a place
of worship. Beyond this hill, at the highest point of
the island, is a deep fissure in the coast, ending in a
small open cave above tidewater and facing the south.
This is known as the Devil's Oven. On either side of
this gorge, and extending back from it, is a thicket of

BOCKIIAVBN

i !

I I

Stunted spruce. The bottom and sides of this inlet,
semicircular in flhajw, are coated tliick with rook-
weed and bare at low tide. On the side of the harbor
opposite Rockhaven, and facing it, is a small granite
quarry owned and occasionally operated by one of
the natives, a quaint old bachelor named Jesse Hut-
ton. In summer, and until lato in the fall, each
morning a small fleet of fishing craft spn^.d tlieir
wings and sail away, to return each night. On the
wharve? and between most of the small brown houses
bac. of them, are fish racks of various sizes, inter-
spersed with tiny sheds built beside rocks, old battered
boats, piles of rotting nets, broken lobster pots, and a
medley of wrack of p'l sorts and kinds, beaten and
bleached by the sail/ ■ n.

In summer, too, a white-winged yacht, trim and
trig, with her brass rails, tiny cannon, and duck-clad
crew, occasionally sails into the harbor and anchors,
to send her complement of fashionable pleasure-
seekers ashore. Here they ramble along the one main
street, with its plank walk, peeping curiously into
the open doors and windows of the shops, at the
simply clad women and barefooted children who eye
them with awe. Each are as wide apart from the
other as the poles in their dress, manners, and ways
of living, and each as much a curiosity to the other.

WRXBX TH> 8KA-0ULL8 COlfX

Of tlie social life of tbo island there is little to be
said, for it is as simple as the garb of its plain people,
who never grow rich and are seldom very poor. Each
of the two villages is blessed with a diminutive
church, Baptist in denomination, the one at Rock-
haven the oldest and known as Hard-Shell ; that at
Northaven as Free-Will. Each calls together most of
the womenkind and grown-up children, as well as a
few of the men, every Sunday, while the rest of the
men, if in summer, lounge around the wharves smok-
ing and swapping yams. Thnre is no great interest
in religion among either sex, and church attendance
seems more a social pleasure than a duty.

Occasionally a few of the young people will get
together, as young folks always do, to play games;
and though it is in the creed of both churches that
dancing is to be abjured, nevertheless old Jess Hut-
ton, whose iidH'" was his wife, child, and sole com-
panion in hia si-.^iude, was occasionally induced to
play and call off for the lads and lasses of the town,
with a fringe of old folks around the walls as spec-
tators.

" I like to see 'em dance," he always said, " fer
they look so happy when at it ; 'sides, when they get
old they won't want to. Dancin's as nat'ral to young
folks as grass growin' in spring."

I J f

BooxuAvaif

I J

Every unall viUagfo has iu oracle, who«e opinion
on ail matters pasw-s current as law and Rospel, whose
itories and jokes are repeated by ail, and who is by
Ucit consent chosen moderator at town meetings,
holds the office of selectman and chairman of the
school committee for life, is accepted as referee in
all disputes, and the friend, counsellor, and adviser of
all. Such a man in Hockhaven was Jesse Ilutton.
Though he argued wiUi the Rev. Jason Bush, who of-
ficiated at Kockhaven on Sundays, about tlie unsocial
nature of close communion, and occasionally met and
had a tilt with the Northaven minister, he was a
friend to both.

" Goin' to church and belicvin' in a futur'," he
would say, " is jest as necessary to livin' and happi-
ness as sparkin' on the part of young folks is neces-
sary to the makin' o' homes."

For Jesse Hutton, or simply Jess, as old and
young called him, was in his way a bit of a philoso-
pher, and his philosophy may be summed up by say-
ing that he had the happy faculty of looking upon
tl ; dark side of life cheerfully. It also may be said
that he looked upon the cheerful side of life tem-
perately.

And here it may be prudent to insert a little of Jess
Button's history. He was the elder of two brothers,

t !'

WRni TM BKA-OCLU COMB

nchoolboyi on the island when ita population niim-
I)erc<l leas than one hundred, and one aniall hrowi
«!hoolhou8c served as a i)laco of worship on Sundays
us well us a temple of karning on wwk-days. Here
the two boys Jesse and Jethro, received scant educa-
tion, and at the age of fourteen and sixteen, resi)ec-
tively, knew more about the sailing of fishing smacks
and the catching and curing of cod and ninckcn>l than
of decimal fractions and the rule of three.

And then the (Mvil War came on, and when its wave
of patriotism reached far-off Kockhaven, Jess Ilutton,
then a sturuy young man, enlisting in the navy under
Farragut, served his country brnvoly and well. Then
Joss came back, a limping hero, to find his brotl.er
Jethro deeply in love with pretty Letty Carver, for
whom Jess had cherished a boyish admiration, and in
a fair way to secure a home, with her as a chief in-
centive. Jess made no comment when he saw which
way the wind blew in that quarter, but, philosopher
that he was, run il.en, quietly but promptly turned
his face emij horn the island and for a score of years
Rockhaven know not of his wherealjouts. Gossips,
recalling how he and Letty, as grown-up school chil-
dren, had played together along the sandy beach of
the little harbor or by the old tide mill, then grinding
its grist, asserted that Jess had been driven away by

KOOKHAVEIT

Iti

disappointment; but beyond surmise they could not
go, for to no one did he impart one word of his reasons
for leaving the island and the scenes of his boyhood.

Twenty years later, Letty Carver, who had become
Mrs. Jethro Button, was left a widow with one child,
a little girl named Mona, a small white cottage on
Rock Lane, and, so far as any one knew, not much else.
And then Jess Hutton returned.
Once more the gossips became busy with what Jess
would or should do, especially as he seemed to have
brought back sufficient means to at once build a re-
spectable dwelling place, the upper half fitted for a
domicile and the lower for a store.

But all surmise came to naught, together with all
the well-meant and excellent domestic paths mapped
out by the busybodies for Jess and the widow to fol-
low, for when the combination house was done and
the store stocked, Jess Hutton attended regularly to
the latter and kept bachelor's hall in the former; and
though he was an occasional caller at the cottage in
Rock Lane and usually walked to church with the
widow and little Mona on Sundays, the store and its
customers by day or night were his chief care, and
his solitary home merely a place to sleep in. And
yet not; for beyond that, during his many years of
wandering on the mainland, he had contracted the

WRBBX THE BEA-GULI.S COME

habit of amusing himself with the violin when lone-
some, and Jess, the eccentric old bachelor, as some
termed him, and his fiddle became a curiosity among
the odd and yet simple people of Rockhaven. Then,
too, the little girl, Mona, his niece, liecame, as she
grew up, his protegee and care, and he her one in-
separable friend and adviser.

=^!

i""

CHAPTER V

JESS HVTTOir

Like one of the spruces that towered high above
others on Rockhaven, like one of the granite cliflFs
bidding defiance to storm and wave, so did Jess Hut-
ton tower above his fellow-men. Not from stature,
though he stood full six feet, or that he was impres-
sive in other ways — far from it. He was like a
child among men in simplicity, in tenderness, in truth
and kindly nature — a man among children in strict
adherence to his conscience, to justice and right liv-
ing. And all on Rockhaven knew it, and all had the
same unvarying confidence in his good sense and jus-
tice, his truth and honor, conscience and kindness.
What he predicted nearly always came true; what
he promised he always fulfilled, and no one ever
asked his aid in vain. Others quarrelled, made mis-
takes, repented of errors, lost time in fruitless ven-
tures ; but Jess — never. He was like a great ship
moving majestically among boats, a lighthouse point
ing to safe harbor, a walking conscience like a com-

JKSS HUTTOW

pasa, a giant among pigmies in scope of mind, keen-
ness of insight, and accurate reading of others' moods
and impulses.

And so he towered above all on Rockhaven.
Beyond that he was a philosopher who saw a silver
lining behind all clouds, laughed at aU vanities, and
made a jest of all follies. To him men were grown-
up children who needed to be amused and directed;
and women the custodians of life and morals, home,
and happiness. They deserved the mantle of charity
and patience, love, and tenderness.

He was not religious. He had never felt a so-called
change of heart, and yet he was a walking example of
the best that religion encourages, for he governed
himself, set the pace of right living, and illustrated
the golden rule.

He believed in that first and foremost, and in set-
ting a good example as far as lay in his power, but not
in any professions.

"Ye mustn't feel I ain't on yer side," he said
once to Parson Bush, who had urged him to join the
church, " for I am, only it's agin my natur ter 'low
I've had a special dispensation o' the Lord's grace in
my behalf. I'm a weak vessel, like all on us, an' my
impulses need caulkin'. I do the best I kin, 'cordin'
to my light, 'n' that's all any man kin. The lord

■I

BOCKHAVXir

won't go back on ua fer not gittin' dipped, an' if
there's a heaven beyond, our only chance o' a seat
is by startin' an annex right here on airth. Sayin'
you've joined the Lord's army's well enough, but
doin' what ye feel the lord's tryin' to, is better.

" Ez Sally Harper used ter say in meetin', ' We're
all on us poor critters, an' if we jine, there's no tellin'
when we'll backslide.' "

It was perhaps the consciousness of inherent
human weakness that kept Jess out of the fold.

" A man may do right 'n' keep on doin' right 'most
all his life long," he said, " an' some day up pops a
temptati n-., when he's least prepared for't, and ovei
he goes lil.e a sailboat 'thout ballast in a gale o' wind.
An' then what becomes o' all yer 'lowin' the Lord's
opened yer eyes 'n' gin ye extra grace ? Ye only get
laughed at by the scoffers 'n' yer influence gone fer
good. Human nature's brittle stuff, an' them as does
right 'thout any change o' heart, come purty near
bein' leaders in the percession toward the Throne."
His philosophy, broad as infinite mercy and hum-
ble as a child's happiness, permeated aU his thoughts
and tinged all his speeches.

" No Joy's quite so comfortin' as we cac'late," he
would say, " an' no sorrer quite so worryin'. We
go through life anticipatin' happy termorrers and

JB88 IltJTTOIT 87

glorious next days, and when we git to 'em, somehow
they've sorter faded away, and it's to be the next day
and the next as is ter be the bright uns. Then, we
are all on us like boys, chasing jack o' lanterns over
a swamp medder, an' if we 'low they're clus to an'
jest ready to grab, the next we know we've stumbled
inter a ditch.

"And then we borrer trouble, heaps on't, all
through life. From the day we git scared at thought
o' speakin' pieces at school, till the doctor shakes his
head an' asks us if we've got our will made, we are
dreadin' suthin'. If 'taint sickness or bein' robbed,
it's worryin' 'bout our nabors bavin' more'n we do.
The feller courtin' worries for fear the gal won't say
' yes,' an' when she does he is likely to see the time he
wishes she hadn't, an' worries 'cause he's got her.
We worry ourselves old 'n' wrinkled 'n' gray, an'
then, more'n all this world, worry 'bout the next.
An' thar's whar the parson 'n' I alius split tacks. He
says the Lord made the brimstone lake fer sinners, 'n'
I say the Lord made conscience as a means o' torture,
an' here or hereafter it's hot 'nuil."

And here it must be inserted that Jess was to a
certain extent a thorn in the parson's side, from the
fact that his influence and following were stronger
than that worthy man's. It was what Jess believed

BOOKHATMI

and said that waa quoted rather than the paraon's
asaertiona; and although Jeas seldom failed to
be one of h>s HstenerB, and contributed more than
any five or ten others toward his scant salary, there
were times when he was made to feel that if Jess
occupied the pulpit the church would be packed
And so It would, humiliating as that fact was to

And here also may be related an incident in Rook-
haven history which illustrates how slim a hold the
parson and his preaching had upon those islanders.
As I happened that year, mackerel were late in reach-
>ng the coast. The pHce was correspondingly high

I fitrrV"' "' ^^''-Aer^'mate'
the first haul. Most of them attended church, but
now, while tie suspense was on, when Sunday came,
two or three watchers were stationed on convenient
diffs with orders to report to the church if a school
was sighted.

This was kept up for three weeks, and then, one
Sunday, just as the first morning hymn in long metre
had bee„ sung and the parson, with closed eyes, had
got well started m his prayer, down through the vil-
age sj^eet bounded one of those sentinels, yelling,
Maek'rel, mack'rel, millions on 'eml »
And in less than five minutes there wasn't a man

JESS HUTTON

8»

woman, or child left in the church except Jess Hut-
ton and the parson. And when that good man had
said "Amen," Jess arose and suggested tiiey too
follow the crowd.

" Ye might's well," said Jess, with a twinkle in his
eye, " the model o' all Christianity sot the example,
'cordin' to Scriptur', an' ye might do good by fol-
lerin' it."

But the worthy leader of that flock who had thus
deserted him failed to see the humor of the situation
and sadly shook his head. He remained in the sanc-
tuary and Jess joined the fishermen.

It was such a peculiar, sympathetic, and broad un-
derstanding of these fisher-folk's carnal as weU as
spiritual needs that made Jess the oracle and leader
of the island.

" Thar wa'n't no need o' gettin' fussy over it," he
said later to the good dominie, with a laugh, " reli-
gion's good 'nuff when mack'rel's fetchin only a dol-
lar a kit; but when three's offered 'n' scace at that,
prayers hain't got their usual grip. And ye oughtn't
ter 'spr '^ it, parson. The way to reach 'em's to be
one with 'em and sorter feel thar needs, and make
'em feel they're yer own. If ye'd gone with 'em
that day and helped 'em make a haul, an' then in-
vited 'em to join ye in a prayer o' thankfulness, thar

■ooKHAvmr

want one but 'ud a-kneeled down at yer bidding ud
8aid ' Amen.' " ./ "hs nuu

And that wag Jess Button and partially the secret
of his supremacy on Roekhaven.

Another point — he had always believed and prac-
tised the sterling rule of " paying scot and lot as you
go. While Jess forgot injuries, he always remem-
bered favors. If an un ashed, uncombed, and even
unnamed child brought him but a sea-shell, Jess
never failed to reward the act. And so on, upward,
to each and all he returned aU favors, paid all debts,
and rewarded all kindnesses. And how they trusted
him ! A fisher lad, saving up for a new suit of clothes
or a boat of his o^vn, would, before starting on a trip
leave his money with Jess for safe keeping. The
owner of a smack or schooner, ready for another
cruise, would ask Jess to take charge of the quintals
and kits of fish just landed, sell then, to best ad-
vantage, and hold the proceeds till he returned or
longer. Not only was Jess selling agent for most
of them, but the safe in his store was a bank of de-
posit for them also. What he did not keep to supply
their needs, they told him to get without bargaining,
sure it would be what they wanted, and at right, or
lowest price.
And this trust was mutual

■ f

11*

JIBS HUTTON 41

"If I ain't here, help yourselves," while not a
sign over his door, was understood by all to bo the
rule; and every one in the island, from a child want-
ing a stick of candy to the skipper needing a dozen
suits of oilers, followed it

Jess had habits, and one was to devote all the time
his dearly loved niece, Mona Hutton, claimed to
her amusement ; and when she asked that he accom-
pany her flower or shell hunting of a summer after-
noon, the store could run itself for all that he cared.

It may be surmised that children exposed to the
temp*°tion of candy, oranges, and nuts in his store,
would pilfer, and some did ; but that did not annoy
him.

" Hookin' things alius carries its own whip," he
would say, " an' if they wanter try it, let 'em. It's
bound to be found out, one way or 'nother, and when
I've shamed 'em once or twice, they'll lam it's cheaper
to ask for 'em."

Children were seldom refused in his store, for he
was like a boy baiting squirrels with nuts in his de-
sire to lure children there.

They were his chief solace and companions by day,
for he kept bachelor's hall over his store, and to have
a crowd of them around was the company ho best
enjoyed.

i I
III

ah •*

BOCKUA'iUr

And what a godaend and wellgpring of delight Je«
and hia atoro were to all Kockhaven'B progeny. In
summer they came in barefooted bunches, even to the
toddlers who could scarce ligp their own names They
played hide - 1 seek behind his barrel, and beneath
his counter ; they hid in empty boxes and under pjlea
of old sails in his back room. They littered his
piazza with crabs, starfish, long strips of kelpie and
shells, they had gathered among the rocks and on the
beach, and left the few poor toys and rag babies they
possessed there. They ran riot over him and his
store; and as a climax to the happy after-school hour,
Jess would produce hii old fiddle, and if there is any
music that wiU reach a child's heart, ij is that.

And while Jess played they leaped, danced,
crowed, and shouted as insanely happy children wilL
To him it was also supreme delight
To them he was a perpetual Santa Glaus, a wonder
among men, a father bountiful, whose welcome never
failed, whose smile was always cordial, and whose
love seemed limitless. And they would obey a shake
of his head even. And when the frolic had lasted
long enough and he said, " Run home now," oflF they
scampered. It is smaU wonder Jess Button was
chief man of Rockhaven.

But Jess had a vein of ? *ire as weU as philosophy.

JIM tOITTOll

" It's human natur," be would mj, " for all on us
to think our own children's brighter'n our neighbor's,
an' our own joys and sorrers o' more account, and
'specially our aches and pains, 'n' them we never get
tired o' tellin' 'bout.

" There was the Widder Bunker, fer instance ; she
had a heap o' trouble and the only comfort she got was
tellin' on't. She had rumatiz 'n' biles 'n' janders
'n' uver complaint, ever since she was left a widder,
an' all she could talk 'bout was what ailed her an'
how long it had lasted an' what the symptoms were
an' what she was doin' fer 'em. She'd run on fer
hours 'bout all her ailin's till folks 'ud go off 'n' leave
her. She got so daft on this subject, finally, every-
body'd run fer safety and hide when they saw her
comin'. She used ter talk in meetin' onct in a while,
'n' arter a spell her aches got sorter mixed up with
her religion, an' as nobody else 'ud listen to her 'bout
'em, the first we knowed, she 'gan tellin' the Lord
how her asmer bothered her and bow her rumatiz
acted. She enjied it so much, an' the Lord seemed
to listen so well, she kept at it over an hour, until the
parson had to ask her to quit

' It was sorter rough on the widder, an' as I told
the parson arterward, it really wa'n't any wuss fer the
Lord to hev to listen to her bodily aches and pains

BOCKIIAVCN

tban the Bpiritiinl ones the rwit allot told him 'bout;
'sidcB it gin a spice o' variety tor Uie meetin'.

" But ho said lier tellin' the Ix)rd liow gho'd hump
herself to get breath, and how tlio rumatiz had started
in her big too and skipped from one jint to 'tother,
'ud set tlie boys in the back seaU to titterin' 'n' break
up the meetin',

" I alius felt sorry for the Widder Bunker, fer she
had considerable hair on her upper !,. an' a hair mole
on her chin, 'aides iHiin' poorer'n a church mouse, an'
sieh unfortunate critters hez to take back seats at
the Lord's table."

i 1 *

CHAPTER VI

THC BUD OF ▲ BOMANCB

Thb little Bteanior Rockhaven was but a speck
on the southern horizon, tlio fishermen that had earlier
spread their wings were still in sight that Juno
morning, and Jess Hutton, having swept his store,
sat tilted back in an arm-chair on his piazza, smok-
ing while ho watched the white sails to the eastward,
when a tall, well-formed, and oity-garbcd young man
approached.

"My name's Hardy," he said, smiling as his
brown eyes took in Jess and his surroundings at a
glance, " and I represent Weston & Hill and have
come to open and manage the quarry they own here.
You are Mr. Hutton, I hcHevo ? "

Jess rose and extended a brown and wrinkled
hand. " That's my name," he said, " 'n' I'm glad ter
see ye. But ter tell ye the truth, I never 'spected ter.
It's been most a year now since yer boss landed here
and bonght my ledge o' stun, and I've made up my
mind he did it jist fer fun, 'n' havin' money ter throw

M:l

if-

BOCKHAVBN

Stepping in-

Vay. Hev a cheer, won't ye ? "
side he brought one out.

Winn seated himself, and glancing down at the
row of small, brown houses and sheds that fringed
the harbor shore below them, and then across to where
the ledge of granite faced them, replied, " Oh, Mr.
Weston is not the man to throw away money, but it
takes time to organize a company and get ready to
operate a quarry; " and pausing to draw from an
inside pocket a red pocketbook, and extracting a
crisp bit of paper, he added, " the first duty, Mr.
Button, is to pay the balance due you, and here is
a check to cover it." '
Jes:: eyed it curiously.

" It's good, I guess," he said as he looked it over,
" but out here we don't use checks; it's money dowil
or no trade."

Then without more words he arose, and limping
a little as he entered the store, handed Winn a
long, yellow envelope. " Here's the deed ; an' the
quarry's youm, an' ye kin begin blasting soon's ye
like."

" I cannot do anything for a few days," replied
Winn, " for the tools and machinery have not yet
arrived, and in the meantime I must look about and
hire some men. In this matter I must aak you to

THE BUD OF A BOUANOX

aid me, and in fact, I must ask your help in many
ways."

" I'll do what I kin," answered Jess, " an' it won't
be hard ter git men. Most on 'em here ain't
doin' more'n keepin' soul an' body together fishin'
an'll jump at the chance o' aimin' fair wages quar^
ryin'.

" Where did yer put up, if I may ask ? I heerd
last night a stranger had fetched in on the
steamer."

" I found lodging with a Mrs. Moore," answered
Winn ; " the boat's skipper showed me where dhe
lived ; and now, if you will be good enough, I would
like to have you show mc 'he quarry and then I will
look around for men to work it"

" Ye don't come here cac'latin' to waste much
time," observed Jess, smiling, " but as fer hirin' men,
ye best let me do it"

" I should be grateful if you will," answered Winn,
"I feel I must ask you to aid me in many ways.
What we want," he continued, having in mind his
instructions, " is to establish a permanent and pay-
ing industry here, and enlist the interest of those;
who have means to invest. We want to make it a sort
of cooperative business, as it were."

" I don't quite ketch yer drift," replied Jew.

•i

BOOERAVBN

" I mean," responded Winn, "that we want to make
this a home industry, and to get all those here who
have means to take stock in it and share in the
profits."

Jess made no immediate answer, evidently think-
ing. " Wal, we'll 836 'bout that bimeby," he said
finally. " It's a matter as won't do ter hurry. Folks
here are mighty keerful, 'n' none on 'em's likely ter
do much bakin' till their oven's hot. 'Sides, there
ain't many as own more'n the roof that shelters 'em,
and not over well shingled, at that Money's skeercer'n
hen's teeth here, Mr. Hardy."

" I shall be guided by your opinion," answered
Winn, realizing the truth of what Jess had said, " and
we will let that matter rest for the present. Now if
you will show me the quarry, I will look it over and
let you see what can be done in the way of getting men
to work it. Whatever you do for us we shall insist on
paying you for."

" Queer old fellow," mused Winn to himself two
hours later, after he had parted from Jess, " but I
doubt if he buys much of this quarry stock." It is
likely that surmise would have been a positive cer-
tainty if Jess Hutton, with horse sense as hard as this
granite ledge and wits as keen as the briars that grew
on top of it, had known that the quarry he had sold

THE BUD OF A BOMAKCE

for two thousand dollars and consilered it well paid
for, was the sole basis for a stock company capitalized
at one million dollars. But he did not, and neither
does many another blind fool who buys " gilt-edged "
stock in gold mines, oil wells, and schemes of all sorts,
know that his investment rests on as insecure and
trifling a basis ; for the world is full of sharpers who
continually set traps for the unwary and always
catch them, and, although their name is legion, their
dupes are :< i the sands of the sea.

But of Winn Hardy, who had come to RockhaTen,as
he honestly believed and felt, to carry out a legitimate
business enterprise, it must not be thought that he
for one moment understood the deep-laid schemes of
J. Malcolm Weston, for he did not. Wliile the ratio
of value between the capitalization of the Rockhaven
Granite Company and the original cost of the quarry
seemed absurd, it did not follow but that Weston &
Hill might not intend actually to put capital into
it sufficient to warrant such an issue of stock. All of
which would go to show that Winn Hardy had not
as yet entirely escaped the trammels of his inherited
honesty and bringing up, which insensibly led him to
judge others by himself.

And that afternoon, having nothing to do, and
curious to explore this rock-ribbed island that wan

til

; .»!

BOCKHAVSN

like to be his home for gome months, he started out
on a tour of exploration. First he followed the sel-
dom-used road that connects the two villages, up to
Northaven, md looked that over. There was a little
green in the centre where stood the small church, and
grouped about, a dozen or two houses and two or three
stores, while back of this, and below an arm of the
harbor, it narrowed down to where the roadway
crossed it. Beside this stood an old stone mill, or
what was once the walls of one, for the roof was
gone. He examined it carefully, peering into its
ghostly interior and down to where the ebb tide had
left its base walls barq. To this, and to the piles that
had once held the tide gates, were clinging masses of
black mussels, with here and there a pink starfish
nestled among them. Then, following this arm of
the sea until it ended, he crossed a half mile of bil-
king ledges of rock between which were gras»-grown
and bush-choked dingles, and came to the ocean.
Then, following the coast line as well as possible, ow-
ing t» the jutting cliffs, he reached a deep inlet with
almost precipitous sides, and, turning inland, found
its banks ended in a dense thicket of spruce.

Through this wound a well-defined path, shadowy
beneath the canopy of evergreen boughs, and velvety
with fallen needles. Following this a little way, he

THE BUD OB A BOUANCE

came to an opening view of the ocean once more.
The day was wondrously fair, the blue water all
about barely rippled by a gentle breeze, while here
and there and far to seaward gleamed the white sails
of coasters. Below him, where the rock-walled gorge
broadened to meet the ocean, the undulating ground
swells leisurely tossed the rockweed and brow-n kelpie
upward, as they swept over the sloping rocks. For a
few moments ho stood spellbound by the silent and
solemn grandeur of the limitless ocean view and the
colossal pathway to the water's edge below him, and
then suddenly there came to his ears the faint sound
of a violin. Now low and soft, hardly above the
rhythmic pulse of the sea, and again clear and dis-
tinct, it seemed to come up out of the rocks ahead,
a strange, weird, ghostly harmony that, mingling with
the whisper of the distant wave-wash, sounded ex-
quisitely sweet.

Breathless with astonishment now, he crept for-
ward slowly, step by step, until at the head of this
deep chasm, and down beneath him, he heard the
well-recognized strains of "Annie Laurie" played
by invisible hands.

The sun was low in the west, the sea an unruffled
mirror, the coast line a fretwork of foam fringe
where the ground swells met it, and above its mur-

Ill

BOCKHAVEN

mup, trilling and quivering in the still air, came that
old, old strain : —

" And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay rae doon and dee,"

repeated again and again, until Winn, enraptured,
spellbound, moving not a finger but listening ever,
heard it no more. Then presently, aa watching and
wondering still whence and from whose hand had
come this almost uncanny music, he saw, deep down
amid the tangle of rocks below him, a slight, girlish
figure emerge, with a dark green bag clasped tenderly
under one arm, and slowly pick her way up the sides
of the defile and disappear toward the village.

I '

CHAPTER VII

!•

SUNDAT ON BOCKHAVEN

Fob a few days Winn Hardy was so occupied with
the cares of his new fiosition that he thought of little
else. It was a pleasing freedom, for never before had
he known what it was to be his own master ; but now
the hiring of men and directing operations gave him
a sense of power and responsibility that was exhila-
rating.

Jess Ilutton aided him in many ways and, in fact,
seemed anxious to assist in this new enterprise that
was likely to be of material benefit to Rockhaven.
Winn wisely let the stock matter rest, feeling that a
I^ractical demonstration of the Rockhaven Granite
Company's enterprise and intentions would in due
time establish confidence.

He wondered many times who the girl was that
had hid herself in that weird cluster of rocks to play
the violin, and marvelled that any maid, bom and
reared amid the half -starved residents of Rockhaven,
should even have that laudable ambition; but he
S3

I I

(;5

KOCKUAVBN

asked no questions. In a way, the romance of it
also kept him from inquiries. " I will bide my
time," he thought, " and some day I will go over and
surprise this maid of the gorge."

He had noticed a rather immaturely formed girl
with dark, lustrous eyes once or twice in the dooryard
of a little white house in the same lane where he had
found lodgment, and had met her once on the village
street and half surmised she might be this mysterious
violinist. He gave little thoiight to it, however, for
his new position and the open path to success and pos-
sible riches that seemed before him was enough to put
cave-seeking maids, however charming, out of his
mind. Then, too, he had not quite recovered from
Ethel Sherman.

When Sunday came, a new, and in a way pleasur-
able, experience came with it. His landlady, Mrs.
Moore, a widow whose two sons were away on a long
fishing voyage, and who seemed so afraid of her soli-
tary boarder as to no more than ask if he wanted this
or that during his lonely meals, now appeared to gain
courage with the advent of the Lord's day.

"I'd be pleased, sir," she said humbly, " ." ye'd
attend smvice with me at the meetin'-house this
morning."

And though Winn had planned to turn his back on

SUNDAY ON BOCKIIAVEN

the coop-like houses that composed the town, and Uke
a long stroll over the island, there was such an ap-
pealing hope in this good woman's invitation that he
could not resist it, and at once consented to attend
" sarvice " with her. And he was not sorry he did,
for when the little bell began calling the piously
inclined together, and he issued forth with Mrs.
Moore, who was dressed in a shiny black silk and a
" bunnit " the like of which his grandmother used to
wear, and looking both proud and pleased, he felt it
a pleasant duty. On the way to the small brown
church which st»od just beyond the steamer landing
and at the foot of a sloping hill dotted thick with
tombstones, he felt that he was the observed of all
observers, and when seated in Mrs. Moore's pew,
cushioned with faded green rep, whichever way he
looked some one was peeping curiously at him. In a
way it made him feel unpleasant, and he wondered if
his necktie was awry; then as he looked around at the
worn and out-of-date garb of the few men and almost
grotesque raiment of the women and girls, what Jess
had said of the people recurred to him in a forcible
way. The usual service that followed, similar in
kind to any country <>hurch, was interesting to
Winn mainly because it recalled his boyhood days.
When the ministsr, a thin, gray-haiwd m«a, began

■ i

■ji

III

: *

i'/

BOCXRAVEir

his sermon, Winn grew curious. He wm aooustomed
to pulpit oratory of a high clase, ahd wondered now
what manner of discounie was like to emanate from
this hunibie desk. The text was the old and time-
worn " The Lord will provide," that has instilled
courage and hope into millions of despondent hearts,
and now used once more to encourage this little band
of simple worshippers. The preacher made no new
deductions, in fact, seemed to, as usual, lay stress
upon the need of faith that the Lord would provide,
come what might. To this end he quoted freely from
Scripture, and Winn wfis beginning to lose interest
and look around the bare and smoky walls and out
of one window that commanded a view of the rippled
harbor, when suddenly his attention was arrested by
a direct reference to himself, or rather, his errand to
Rockhaven. " We have," asserted the minister, in
slow and solemn voice, "a certain and sure proof
that the Lord watches over and cares for us, and that
we on this lonely island, striving to live righteously,
are not forgotten by Him. Our acres fit to till are
few and lack fertility; our winters dreary and full of
the menace of storm and shipwreck to those who must
pursue their calling abroad ; and yet it seems that He
who holds the waters in the hollow of His hand, real-
izing our needs, has turned the minds of moneyed men

SUHDAT ON BOC'KIIAVIN

toward our barren homo, and through them blessed
us with a now source of livelihood. Through them
heretofore worthless ledges of granite are to be reared
into dwi-Uings, or perhaps churches in the great city.
It is to nio a certain and signal proof that the good
Lord watches over us here, as well as over others who
dwell in more favored spots, and that we have a new
and greater cause for thankfulness. Many times wo
have repined at our hard lot, at our scanty stores of
sustenance and the bitterness of jwverty ; many times,
too, some of us have felt the burden of our lives
hard to bear, and almost doubted the good Lord's
watchfulness and care over all who believe in His
word. It is this lack of faith, and this lesson of His
goodness, even unto us, that I wish to impress upon
your minds to-day, for, although we are but poor and
humble, illy fed and thinly clad, yet we are not for-
gotten by Him, the Great Tlulei- of the Universe."

This peculiar and unusual reference to a mere
matter of business and Winn's mission to Rookhaven
did not end his discourse, hut it kept that young man's
attention away from all else until the minister closed
and bowed his head in prayer, and, when the inevi-
table and long-handled collection box was passed,
Winn felt he must, perforce, contribute liberally,
which he did.

1 '

looxuAvsir

li:

When the congregation waa dismiaaed and he and
Mra. Moore reached the porch, there waa Jeaa with
two ladiea, one elderly, and the girl Winn had noticed
in Rock Lane, aeemingly awaiting him. An introduc-
tion to Mrs. and MisR Hutton followed, and then all
five walked homeward together.

It is said that trifles determine our course in life,
that, like chips floating down the stream, we are
moved hither and yon by imperceptible forces. If it
is 80 with one, it is with all, and was so with the people
of Rockhaven, and their estimate and subsequent
opinion of Winn Hardy. He attended that poor little
church that day out of kfndly regard for Mrs. Moore's
wishes, he listened patiently to services and the ser-
mon, only a few sentences of which interested him,
and, of course, conducted himself as any well-behaved
and well-bred young man would. And yet that
trivial act was the starting-point in the good will and
confidence of those people, the worth of which he
realized not at all then and never fully until long
afterward.

Neither was he entitled to special credit for his
self-sacrifice, except it be that his desire to please that
worthy matron, Mrs. Moore, overcame his selfishness.
But whether or not, it led to immediate, though minor
reward, for late that afternoon, and upon his return

BDMDAT OM BiiOKllAVJCN

■f.

from ■ (hort stroll over Norso Hill, he found her on
tho porch of the white cottage next to her homo, chat-
ting wiih the two ladies be met at church, and be was
invited to join them. How cordially the two elderh
ladies endeavored tn interest him and what a soti
witchery the dark eyes of the younger one held for
him need not be enlarged ui)on. It mati> rcii not
thai Mrs. Moore and Mrs. Ilutton were ueither cul-
tured nor fashionable; they were at least tiucore in
their enjoyment of his society and nir"iit what they
uttered, whicli is more than can be said of many
women of [msition. lie learned that the girl , ni.iiio
was Mona, that she had never been awav rVim thr
island, and, as might be expected, was somcv. Iiui biinb
f\il and a little afraid of liiiii. lie bad a mind to ask
her if she played the violin, but a romantic desini to
surprise her, or whoever the mysterious violinist was,
restrained him.

The stars were out, a perfect quietude had falleu
upon tho little village, and only the ceaseless murmur
of the near-by ocean whispered in the still air, when
Mrs. Moore arose to go, and, much against his will,
Winn felt compelled to follow.

In his room he smoked for an hour in solitude,
buoyant with hope for his own future, amply satisfied
with the business and social progress he had so far

BOCKHAVKN

made, and mentally contra8tinjf the life he had left
behind him with the new one he had entered upon;
and into these meditations, it must be stated, came the
faces of Ethel Sherman and Mona Hutton.

And 80 ended Winn's first Sunday on Rockhavcn.

CHAPTER VIII

THE UAND OF FATB

Fob a few days Winn Hardy was the busiest man
on Rockhaven. What with setting up the steam drill
that had been sent him, finding a man to work it, ad-
justing the derricks, and laying out work for the dozen
men Jess had secured, he had no more time than oc-
casionally to think of who the mysterious violin-
playing maid might bo. He arose early, worked late,
and evenings wrote his firm a detailed statement of
his progress, or discussed matters with Jess at the
store. By tacit consent that had become a sort of
ofiice for the Rockhaven Granite Company, and even-
ing loimging place for not only the men who were at
work for Winn, but others interested in the new enter-
prise, and, in fact, all who were not away on fishing
trips.

Here, also, Winn met the Rev. Jason Bush, a

worthy, if attenuated, parson and pedagogue, who had

so astonished Winn that first Sunday and who seemed

more interested than any one else in the quarry. It

f-i:

BOCKHATEir

was all the more pleasant, experience to Winn, thus to
feel that he was bringing a business blessing to these
hard-working and needy people, and the barometer of
his hopes and spirits was at top notch when Friday
came and with it funds from the firm to pay the men.
He felt, indeed, that his mission was bearing excel-
lent fruit.

Then, too, he received a letter of praise from his
employers, congratulating him on the progress he was
making, and reminding him that, as soon as advisable,
he should endeavor to interest those who had means
and induce them to invest in IJockhaven stock. It
was all right, of course, and a part of his mission
there ; and Winn, guileless of the cloven hoof hidden
beneath it, assured himself that be iiiust carry out
their wishes as soon as possible.

It was while speculating on this part of his duty
the next afternoon, and wondering who except Jess
was likely to have money to invest in this stock, that
he felt an unaccountable impulse to visit the gorge
again and at once. It was as if some invisible voice
was calling him and must be answered, and yet he
could not explain what it was and how his thought, at
that particular moment, had turned to this spot. He
was not a believer in fate ; he was just an ambitious
and practical young man, with good common sense

THE HAND OF FATK

and wholesome ideas, and though a little embittered
by the treatment he had received at the hands of
Ethel Sherman and not likely to fall in love eusily
with another girl yet he was the last person who
would admit that fate was playing, or would play, any
part in his movements, as it did; and more than
that, it led him that balmy June afternoon, when the
sea and sky were in perfect accord, to the gorge and
to the very spot where, ten days before, he had been
mystified. And now he was more sfi, for not only did
he hear the same low, sweet strains mingling with
the ocean's murmur, but he began to realize that some
invisible influence, quite beyond his understanding,
had brought him hither. What it was he could not
tell, or where, or from whence it came, only that he
felt it and obeyed.

And so forcibly did this uncanny sense of help-
lessness oppress him, that the weird strains of music,
issuing from the rocks below, seemed ten times more
so. For one instant be could not help feeling almost
scared, and thought it well to pinch himself to see if
he were awake, and the music and his presence there
not a dream. Then he sat down. Surely, if it were a
dream, it was a most exquisite one, for away to the
eastward and all around, a half-circle, the boundless
ocean, with here and there a white-winged vessel, and

BOCKHATin

white-crested waves flashing in the sunlight, lay be-
fore; -while beneath him ami sloping V-sliaped a
hundred feet below, ami to where the billows leajwd
over the weed-clad rwks, lay this chasm. Back of
him, and casting their conical shadows over the chaos
of boulders in the gorge, was a thicket of spmee, an<l
to add a touch of heaven to this desolate l)ut grand
vision, the faint whisper of music mingling with the
monotone of the waves and the sighing of winds in
the spruces.

And then the wonder of it all, and what a romantic
and singular fancy of tliis fislicr maid to thus hide
herself where only the mermaids of old might have
come to sing sad ditties while they combed tlieir sea-
green tresses. That it was llona Hutton he felt al-
most certain, and hia first impulse was to descend into
the chasm at once and surprise lier. Then he thought,
if perchance it were not, would that I)C the act of a
gentleman ? Doubtless whoever it was had come tliere
to find seclusion, and for him to thus intrude would
certainly \>e rude. The next thotight, and the one he
acted upon, was to go back a little of the way he came,
hide himself, and, when she appeared, advance to
meet her. The way to the village was over a rounded
hill a full mile in length, witli scattered clusters of
bayberry bushes between. Back over this a hundred

THE RAND OF FATE

rods Winn retreated, and not thinking how his pres-
ence there would aiTect this unknown girl, hid him-
self hehinii a rock. lie had not long to wait, and soon
saw the same lithe figure, and under her ami the
same bundle, emerge from the gorge, and, as she
advanced rapidly, saw that it was Mona. Still un-
thinking, he stepped out into view and forward to
meet her. In one instant he saw her halt turn
back -^ step, then around, facing him, and stand
still ; and as he neared her and she saw who it was,
she sank to the earth. Then, as he reached her side
and saw her, half reclining against a small ledge,
and looking up at him, her face and lips ashen white,
he realized for the first time what a foolish thing he
had done.

" I beg your pardon. Miss Hutton," he said ear-
nestly, and removing his hat on the instant, " I see
that I have scared you half to death and I am sorry ;
I didn't mean to."

And as she sat up, still looking at him with pitiful
eyes, a realizing sense of his own idiotic acfioa came
to him, and he told her, a little incoherently, per-
haps, but truthfully how he had come there both days,
and for what reason.

Frankness ia said to he n virtue, and in this case it
was more, for it saved the reputation of Winn Hardy

BOCKKAVXK

as a man of honor and a gentleman, in the eyes of
Mona Hutton.

" Yes, I was frightened," she said at laat, in re-
sponse to his repeated plea for forgiveness, after he
had told her his story, " and I almost fainted. It is
foolish of me to go there, I know, for mother has told
me it is not safe."

Then as she picked up the green bag that had fallen
at her feet and started to rise once more, Winn's wiu
came to his rescue, and in an instant he grasped her
hand and arm and almost lifted her to her feet.

" I shall never forgive myself for this day's stu-
pidity," he said, " but I have wondered a hundred
times since that day who on earth it could be that hid
herself in that forbidding spot. I heard you play
only one air then, and that the sweetest ever composed
by mortal man. I have heard it many, many times,
but never once when it reached my heart as it did that
day. \Vliat blind intuition brought me here I cannot
say; but some impulse did, and if you will believe
what I say and that your playing has wrought a spell
over lup, I shall be grateful."

To simple and utterly unsophisticated Mona Hut-
ton words like these wore as new as life to a babe,
and while she could not and did not beheve he meant
them all, as uttered, nevertheless they were sweet to

THE RAND OK KATE 67

her. It is likely, also, they were colored by the plight
Winn found himself in and his desire to set himself
right in the eyes of Mona.

" I do not know why it is," she responded, " but
when 1 go there 1 seem to enjoy my jiractice better,
and then I feel that no one can hear inc. Mother
•ays that no one will ever want to," she added
naively.

Winn smiled.

" But I want to," he said, " I want to go there with
you some day and bear you play ' Annie Laurie '
again ; will you let me ? "

" I won't promise." she replied, and perhaps mind-
ful of her mother's opinion added : " Mother doesn't
approve of my playing a fiddle. She says it's not
graceful."

This time Wmn lauj^ed. " I don't believe you
could do anything and not be graceful," he said.
" As for that, I have seen Camilla Urso playing one
before an audience of thonsands, and no one thought
her ungraceful."

" Who is Camilla Frso ? " asked Mona.
" She was a wonderful violinist," answered Winn,
" and charmed the whole world, years ago. If vou
will let iiK- poiiic to this sjiot with you, I will tell you
all about her."

i.l'

•• BOCKKAVSlr

Mong turned her face away.

" I don't go there very often," iIm relied eva-
aively ; " and if you have heard such woa<lerful play-
ing, I wouldn't dare let you hear nic, 1 don't know
anything except what Uncle Jess has taught mo."
Then ns slu- started onward she added, " You iiiMut
ask hini to play for you some time ; he knowg how."

" But it is you I want to hear," Winn aaaorted, and
then, as an intuition cam to him, he added : '" 1 think
it best you go on honi. alone, Miss Hutton; \t n.ipht
cause comnn-nt if we ^-o on together. I passed a
most delightful hour with you and yo«r mother last
Snnda.v evening, and, with your pemission, I shaU
repeat it."

And then, having delivered this polite speech, so
utterly unlike what Mona was accustomed to hear,
he raised his hat and turned away.

On the hrink of the gorge he halted, and, turning
again, watched her rapidly nearing the top of the
hill. Reaching its creat, she faced about and looked
back.

CHAPTER IX

A FRIENDLY HAND

The gnggegtion Jess liad made regarding the
Bcarcity of money on IJockhnven was plainly evident
to Winn, now that he had become acquainte<l. It
made him feel that his firm's enterprise was almost
a godsend to the island, and that first Saturday night
when his men gathered, as requested, at Jess Hut-
ton's store, and seeured their pay, Winn, who in his
time had also felt the need of more money, found it a
keen pleasure to pay these needy men their earnings.
When they had departed and he and Jess were alone,
the worthy man who seemed to feel a share of the
general satisfaction, henined with good nature.

'• Money makes the mar' go," he said, " an', as the
Irishman said, ' it's swate Saturday night and sour
Monday morning.' Ye've made a fine start, Mr.
Hardy, an' if things go well an' this 'ere company o'
youm don't bust up, ye'll cum pretty near bein' the
hull thing here. There's an old saying here that ' It's
80

■OOXIUVIM

time to dry fith when the lun •hinei,' «n' now with
vour Run ghinin' it'g purty good wisdom for ye to
dry all the ii«h ye kin. Things arc onsartin in this
world, an' there's no tcUin' when a sunny day's
comin'. I'm goin' ter help yer all I kin, an' out o'
good will toward ye, 'n' hope things'll turn out aU
right^ I'm sartin it won't be yer fault if they don't."
" I'm glad to feel I've won your confidence, Mr.
Button," answered Winn, " and I feel sure tJiere
is no need of fearing any collapse of this company.
They are reputable business men, and have ample
means; granite is in good demand in the city, and
certainly they would not have invested in the quarry
and set out to develop it, unless it was to make
money."

" Wal, mebbe," answered Jess, after a long pause,
" an' I'm goin' to think so. Distrustiu' don't help
matters, an' for the sake o' those men who hev gone
home happy to-night, I hope things'll turn out as ye
'spcct."

Winn looked depressed, and for reason. To have
the one man in Rockhaven whose confidence he valued
most express a word of distrust hurt.
^^ " Oh, I ain't doubtin' you a mite," continued Jess,
" an' no reason to mistrust yer con2arn, only I've had
squalls hit me when least 'spectin' 'em, 'n' so got into

A rxunoLT UAau

the habit o' watchin' out for 'em. It'a jigt aa well
in thia world, 'u then ye ain't quite ao likely to be
caught nappin'. Now t'other day ye mentioned the
matter o' scUin' stock to iw folki here, an' Uiat is all
right, only it sorter 'ourred to me if this consarn o'
youm 'spected to make money quarryiii' here, thar
WHii't no real reason why they should want ter divide
it with us folks, which is what sellin' u« stock
'mounts to in the end, an' aa old Cap'n Doty would
aay, ' hence my 'spiciona.' I've bed a good many
npa 'n' downs in thia world," he continued, in a phil-
osophic tone, "an' while I alius try to lo-k on the
bright side o' trouble, an' when it comes urn glad
'tain't any wusa, I've lamed to be kocrful — mighty
keerful. Human natur's slippery stuff, an' money a
dum sight more so, an' every storeiuan alius puts the
best apples on top o' tho basket. I'v^' bought and
paid for a mighty lot o' 'sperience 'bouL mankind, an'
all I've got tn show for most on't is the 'sperience.
I've picked up a little money, too, 'tween times, but
the only reason I hev, was 'cause I got sight on't 'fore
the other feller did. I like you, Mr. Hardy, fust-
rate, on so short acquaintance, an' know ycr honest
'n' aU right, but the side-whiskered feller who blew in
here last summer 'n' bought this yer quarry offhand
— wal, I mean no disrespect to yer firm, but in my

Miarocorr iesoiution test chart

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

125 11 U

KI^IU

^ APPLIED IN/HGE In

^^ '65:1 East Main Street

y,iS Rochealftr. New York 14609 USA

•■^S (716) *82 - 0300 - Phone

i^aS (716) 288 - 5989 - Fox

EOCKHAVEN

humble 'pinion he'd bear watchin'. Now I'm goin'
ter stand by ye in this matter 'n' do all I ken to help
you make a go on't, an' if ye'U trust me all the time,
ye won't regret it."

It was a pleasant assurance, but the cloud on
Winn's face remained. He had from the outset hoped
to interest this old man, who he realized held the
key of Rockhaven, as it were, and whose opinion of
his mission there, and the merits of Rockhaven stock
as an investment, would without doubt be accepted
by others as final. His own belief in it was optimis-
tic, and beyond that it meant to him a success in
business and an avenu6 to prosperity that included
all wealth meant to any one. So far in life he had
been but a mere menial, a poorly paid drudge, a slave
to so many hours a day. Now he was at once elevated
to the management of men and money, and assumed
that it would be to his credit and necessary that he
interest the people and induce them to invest their
money. For these reasons the lack of confidence on
Jess Hutton's part meant discouragement.

" Ye mustn't mind my notions," Jess said at last,
reading Winn's face ; " I mean to help ye, 'n' I will,
only as I said I'm a leetle skeery o' yer consam. Ef
things go on right fer a spell, I most likely'U feel dif-
ferent. I've got pinched in schemes afore, an' grown

13 I

A FKIENDLY HAND

cautious. Faith, ez the parson says, is a mustard
seed 'n' needs time to sprout. We'll watch thet air
mustard seed o' youm, 'n' gin it time ter sprout.
Now, to sorter drive away your blues an' mine, I'm
goin' to fiddle a spell ; ye won't mind, will ye ? "

"I should be delighted," answered Winn, with
sudden eagerness, " I have heard you were an expert
with a violin. Mr. Weston said you were." lie did
not deem it wise just then to say who else had stated
that fact.

Without further comment, Jess brought out his
violin.

" Fiddlin's to me," he said, as he turned it up, " a
good deal ez lieker used to be to old Bill Atlas, a
cure-all fer everything from death to the toothache.
Bill was quite a case in his day, an' said lieker was
made fer the purpose o' drownin' sorrow. He
drowned his purty stiddy in't anyhow, an' finally
was driv' to his death by the tremens."

Then he began and fiddled away for an hour, his
eyes closed, his kindly face glowing with the pleasure
of his own art, and one foot keeping time on the
floor. And, to Winn's surprise, his selections were all
of Scotch origin, and the liveliest of those best of
all harmonies. From one to another he skipped, a
medley of those old tunes that have lived as no other

■I i

BOCKHAVEW

other has quite the same life and soul

And Winn, listening as that quaint old man fid-
dled away, forgot his troubles, carried to fair Scot-
ands banks and braes, where Wallace bled, Prince
Charhe fought, and Bonnie Dundee raUied his hench-
njen to g.ve battle, and, too. Winn heard the love
plamt of many a Scotch lad and lassie, centuries old,
and yet reaching his heart as they always did and al!
ways w.11 aU human kind. And as, entranced, he
hved once more in the olden days of chivalry and love
fa thful unto death, he thought of Mona and how
Bhe had touched the same chord in his heart only a
few hours before. ^

And when Jess had tired of his pastime, and Winn
ou bs way to his solitary room in Rock Lane, passed
the wh:te cottage next to it, he halted a moment, won-
denng ,f Mona was asleep, or i^ not, was she thinking

For such is man, and so do the rose petals of love
tirst unclose.

MONA.

CHAPTER X

MONA HUTTOS

MowA HuTTON was, as Winn instinctively felt
that Sunday when he first glanced into her well-like
eyes, a girl but little akin to her surroundings — a
child of the island, full of strange moods and fancies,
sombre as the thickets of spruce that grew dense and
dark between the ledges of granite, and solemn as the
unceasing boom of ocean billows below its cliflFs.
Even as a barefoot schoolgirl she had found the sea
an enticing playmate, and to watch its white-crested
waves lifting the rockweed and brown kelpie, as
they swept over the rocks and into the gorges and
fissures, was of more interest than her schoolmates.
She would hide between the ledges and watch the sea-
gulls sailing over them for hours, build playhouses
in out-of-the-way spots with lone contentment, filling
them with shells, starfish, and crabs, dig wells in the
sandy margin of the harbor, and catxjh minnows to put
in them. She loved to watch the fishing boats sailing
away, the coasters pass the island, the current sweep-
76

ifi

■;f 'I'

BOCKHAVEN

ing in and out bencni,, tlie old tide mill, and ns she
grew up and gained in courage roamed over the en-
tire island at will. The Devil's Oven, out of sight
and sound of everybody, hi came a charming sjiot for
her ; and here she would sit for hours watching the
waves leap into the gorge and wondering why they
never sounded twice alike. And so on, as she de-
veloped, she absorbed the mood of the ocean, its
grandeur shaped her thoughts, its mystery tinged her
emotion, and its solemnity, like the voice of eternity,
gave expression to her eyes.

Companions of her o\vn age she had none, leaving
them to play as they chose while she sought solitude,
and found contentment on the lonely shores. Uncle
Jess only was akin to her, and if she could lead him
away as playmate, then was she happy.
And so she grew up.

With only a limited education, such as the island
schools afforded, a scant knowledge of books, since
but few ever reached Rockhaven, a love of music that
amounted to a passion, no knowledge of the world
except that gleaned from Uncle Jess, a deep religious
feeling, partially shaped by the " Hardshell " Baptist
teachings of the Rev. Jason Bush, and more by the
ocean billows that forever thundered against iJie
island shores, she was at twenty a girl to be pitied

MONA IIUTTON

by those capable of understanding her nature or
realumR how incompatible to it was her environ.nent
uf music she knew but little, and that taught her
by the genial old soul who, since her babyhood, had
been father, uncle, and companion. His constant
assistance had been hers through her pinafore days
at school; his genial philosophy and keen insight
into human impulse had done more to develop her
mind afterward than the three R's she mastered there
His gentle hand had taught her the scales on his old
brown fiddle, and now that she had reached that
mystic lino where girlhood ends and womanhood be-
gins, her future was of more concern to him than all
eke m his life. That she must and would, in the course
of human nature, love and marry, he fully expected;
that It was like to be a inateship with some of the
simple and hard-working fishermen's sons, he ex-
pected ; and yet, with dread for her far more than any
one else, even her mother, he realized that such an
alliance would be but a lifelong slavery for Mona.
To mate a poetic soul like hers, that heard the voice
of eternity in the white-crested billows, the footsteps
of angels in the music he drew from his violin and
the whisper of God {n the sea winds that murmured
through tie spruce thickets they visited, as he knew
she did, seemed as unnatural as confining one of the

•it

.J m

BOCKIIAVEN

ffl

white gulls that circled about the island in a coop
with the barnyard fowls.

To Mona herself no thought of this had come.
Though the young men with whom as schoolmates she
had studied, and who now as fishermen, with ill-
smelling garb and sea-tanned hands and faces, often
sought her, to none did she give encouragement, and
with none found agreeable companionship. What
her future might be, and with whom spent, gave her
no concern. Each day she lived as it came, helping
her mother in the simple home life and the making
of their raiment, stealing away occasionally to
spend a few hours with Uncle Jess, or in summer to
hide herself in the Devil's Oven, and play on the
violin he had given her, or practise with him as a
teacher. This violin and its playing, it must be
stated, had been and was the only bone of contention
between Mona and her mother, and just why that
mouher found it hard to explain, except that it was a
man's instrument and not a woman's. Their huHible
parlor boasted a small cottage organ. " Let Mona
learn to play on that," she had said when uess first
began to teach Mona the art of the bowstrings, " it's
more graceful for a girl to do that th-n sawing across
a fiddle stuck under her chin." And this matter of
grace, so vital to that mother's peace of mind, was

MONA HUTTO.N 79

the >.. „ , ^.nt of dispute between tlieni. But Uncle
Jess sided with Mona, ond the mother gave in, for
with her, for nia-v potent reasons, tl.e ^ ill 'and
wishes of Uncle Jos., must not Ihj thwarted, even if
wrong. However, the dispute drove Mona and the
fiddle out of the house, and when she had finally mas-
tered it (at least in a measure), it stayed out.

In this connection, it may ho sai.i, there was also a
difference in opinion between Airs. Ilutton and Joes
regarding the future of Mona, an.l though never dis-
cussed before her, for obvious reasons, it existed
With Mrs. Ilutton the m.-asu-o of her own life or
what it had been, as well as that of her neigi.bijrs
was broad enough for Mona. '

" It's going to spoil her," she asserted on one of
these occasions, « this getting the idea int« her head
that thoso she has been brought up with are not "ood
enough f o. ,.er. They may not be, but we are here and
likely to stay here, and once a girl gets her head full o'
high notions and that sheV better than the rest, it's all
day with her."

^^ "Thar ain't no use interferin'," Jess responded,
whatever notions Mona's got, she's got, an' ye can't
change 'em. If she likes the smell o' wiW roses bet-
ter'n flshin' togs, she does; and if she tu. .s up her
nose at them as don't think 'nough o' pleasin' her ter

•I

BOCKHAVEI*

p}mnj?e togs when th«>y come round, I 'gree with her.

VVi

My,

' notional,

nn' thoiigh most on 'cm 'round licro iiait ter work
purty hard, it ain't no »ij?n their notions sliouldn't b«
considorod. I'vo stayed in houses wl-.ar wiinniia
wa'u't 'lowed to lift a finger an' had sarvants ter fan
'em when 'twas hot, nn' though that ain't no sign
Mona'U git it done for her, I hope I'll never live ter
sc her drudgin' like some on 'em here."

" If you'd had the bringing o' Mona up," Mrs.
Ilutton had responded rather sharply, "you would
a-niade a doll baby out o' her, an' only fit to have
servants to fan her." At which parting shot, Jess had
usually taken to his heels, muttering, " It's a waste
o' time argufyin' with a woman."

But Mrs. Hutton was far from being as " sot " in
her way as might be inferred, as she always had, and
still desired, to rear her only child in the way she
considered best, and in accordance with her surround-
ings. To he a fine lady on Tlockhaven, as Mrs. Hut-
ton would put it, was impossible; and unless Mona
was likely to be transplanted to another world, as it
were, it seemed wisest to keep her from exalted ideas
and high-bred tastes. But back of that, and deep in
the mother's love, lay the hope of better things for her
child than ahe had known, though how they were to
come, and in what way, she could not see.

UONA HUTTOW

Mere pebbles of chance shape our d( Mny, and so
it was in the life of Winn Harily, an.l the iriflc,
light as air, tlint tiimod liis f<K>t«i<.|M, was the souml
of churcli bolls that Sunday morning in Hock-
haven.

Had they not recalled his l)oyluK.d, lie would have
spent the day in roaming over the island as he had
planned, instead of accepting Airs. Aloore's invitation
to accompany her to church, with tlio se- ■ c-nce of
events that followed. And the one most pou-nt was
the accent of cordiality in Mrs. Hutton's neighborly
invitation to call. It may be supposed, and naturally,
that tho expressive eyes of her daughter were the
real magnets ; but in this case tliey were not. In-
stead it was the mother with whom he desired to visit,
and when he called that first evening it was with her
he held most converse. Out of the medley of sub-
jects they chatted about, and what was said by either,
so little is pertinent to this narrative, it need not be
quoted. Winn gave a brief account of his early life
and more of the latter part, since he had been a resi-
dent of the city, togetlior with a full explanation of
how the Rockhaven Granite Company was likely to
affect the island, and his mission tliere. This latter
recital, he felt, would be a wise stroke of policy, as
apt to be repeated by Mrs. i^utton, as in truth it was,

if'

SOCKHATEir

later on. While she was not inquisitive, he found
she was keenly interested in the new industry he had
established there, and discerning enough to see that,
if successful, ii would be a great benefit to the island.
Winn discovered also that in addition to being a most
excellent and devoted mother, she was fairly well
posted in current events, had visited relatives on the
mainland many times, and in the city once, and was
far from being narrow-minded. With Mona, who sat
a quiet listener, he exchanged but a few words, and
those in connection with the church and social life of
the village. In juth, he found her disinclined to say
much and apparently afraid of him. His call was
brief and not particularly interesting, except that
it made him feel a little more at home on the island,
and when he rose to go, he received the expected invi-
tation to call again; and when he had reached his
room, the only features of the call that remained in
his mind were that Mrs. Hutton seemed interested in
his mission there, and her daughter had eyes that
haunted him.

CHAPTEE XI

THE devil's OVEW

The time-worn saw that two is company and three
a crowd never struck Winn so forcibly as that even-
ing when he called again on Mrs. Hutton. On the
first occasion he had only felt interested to make the
acquaintiiiice of that excellent lady, who, in many
ways, reminded him of his own departed mother ; but
now it was the daughter. But Mona was shy as be-
fore, perhaps more so, and hardly ventured a re-
mark, while the mother was as cordial and chatty as
ever. Once Winn came near speaking of the little
episode that had occurred the day before, but some
quick intuition prevented, and after an hour's visit
he bade the two good night and left them.

It was evident Mona had not confided the inci-
dent to her mother, and until she had Winn thought
it his place to keep silent. He did not know that the
girl's secrecy was solely due to fear of a scolding,
and that between her mother and herself existed that

iii

. 17'

i*'^

I.' , 1

EOCKHAVEN

foolish, but often dangerous barrier. It was several
days after before Winn obtained a suitable chance
to speak with Mona alone, and then be met her just
coming from the store of Jess Button.

" When am I to hear you play again i " he asked
pleasantly, " I wanted to ask you the evening I called,
but in view of what you said about your mother's dis-
like of it, decided not to."

" I am glad you did," she replied, coloring a little.

" I am going over to that gorge this afternoon,"
continued Winn boldly, " and I want you to promise
to come and bring your violin. Will you ? "

" I won't promise," she replied timidly, and all
unconscious that his proposal was not in strict pro-
priety, " I may come, but if I do I shall not dare
play before you."

" Oh, I am harmless," he replied lightly, " and if
you knew how anxious I am to hear you, you would
favor me, I am sure."

And that afternoon Winn betook himself once
more to what was now likely to be a trysting place,
only instead of going directly, the way Mona would
naturally, over Norse Hill, he walked a mile extra
around through Northaven. And this to protect the
good name of a girl with a face like a marguerite and
eyes like deep waters.

THE DEVIL S OVEN

She was not there when he arrived, and in truth
Mona was having a hard struggle to decide whether
to go or not, for this man, with earnest brown eyes,
blond mustache, stylish garb, ways and manners so
utterly unlike any that had come under her ken, was
one to awe her.

Then, would it be right, and what would her
mother and Uncle Jess, and all the good people of
Eockhaven, say if it were known she met him thus ?
For Mona, wise as only Kockhaven was, and pure
as the flowers her face resembled, was yet conscious
what evil tongues might say, and dreaded lest they
be set wagging.

But a lurking impulse, first implanted in Mother
Eve's heart, and budding in Mona's since the hour
she saw Winn's kindly eyes looking down into her
own, won the day, and taking her dearly-loved, old,
brown fiddle and bow safe in their green bag, she
walked rapidly to the edge of the gorge, with throb-
bing heart and fiushed face.

Winn was there waiting, as full well she knew he
would be, lazily puffing a cigar while he leaned against
a sloping bank and watched the ocean below. When
he saw Mona he threw the weed away and sprung to
his feet.

" I'm very glad you came, Miss Hutton," he said.

BOOKUATEN

raising his hat, " yet I did not dare hope you would,"
and then extending one hand to take the bag and the
other to assist her, he added, " It's a risky place to
come down into, and you had best let me assist you."

" I'll go first," she replied quickly, " for I know
the way and can go alone, and you can follow me."

And follow her he had to, but not easily, for with
steps as fearless and leaps as graceful as an antelope,
she led the way down into the chaos of boulders and
then up through them, until she paused in a shelter-
ing embrasure.

When Winn reached her, side he was out of breath,
and as he handed her the bag and looked about, he
w.-s almost speechless at the wild, rooky grandeur
of the spot. And well he might be, for seldom had he
seen one like it. He had looked down into the gorge
from above, but now he was in a half-circular, wide-
open cave the size of a small room, far below where
he had stood, and looking out upon cliff-like walls
down to where the ocean waves were beating.

" And so this is the Devil's Oven," he said when
he had looked all about, and finally at Mona seated
upoi. a jutting ledge and watching him. " I think
it a shame to have given such a hideous name to a
place so grand and picturesque. Rather should it
have been called the Mermaid's Grotto. I dislike

TH« DXTIl's over

thi8 idea of naming aU the beautiful bits of natural
scenery after his satanship. It's not fair." Then
seating himself as far away from Mona as possible
he added gently, " Now, Miss Button, I am ready
for my treat Please don't think or feel that I am
here, br.t play to yourself and for yourself, just as
you did the day I first heard you."

And Mona, charmed a little by his gentle, courteous
ways and speech, and her sense of fear lulled by his
entirely respectful manner, drew her violin from its
casa

It may have been the spot that inspired her, or the
tender admiration she saw in his eyes, or a little
of both, but from the first moment she drew the bow
across the strings of her violin, a wondrous sweetness
and feeling graced her playing, and strange to say,
all the melodies she rendered bore the Scotch fiavor.
Most of them had been heard by Winn at one time
or another, but never played upon an instrument that
seemed so sweet or with such an exquisite touch as
now. When « Bonnie Dundee " came, he could al-
most soe that gallant chieftain with waving plume
and Tartan plaid, and hear him say: —

« Come fill up my cup,
Come fill up my can ;
Come saddle my horses
And call up my men."

.'■'!

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BOOKHAVEN

And when "The Campbells are Coming" echoed
out of that rock-walled cave, Winn could hear the
bagpipes in the disthnee and see the dauntless hosts
of fair Scotland marching to battle.

When after an hour, during which Mona sat with
lithe body swaying to the measure of her music,
rounded cheek pressed tenderly to her instrument, and
her eyes closed, as if lost to the world, she came to
that old utterance of love, sweet " Annie Laurie,"
Winn was enthralled as never in his life before.
And when the last exquisite note had floated out
of the cave and into the spd monotone of the ocean,
and Mona paused, his eyes were dimmed with
tears.

" Miss Hutton," he said earaestly, brushing them
away, " no words of mine can tell you how much I
have enjoyed this treat or with what rare feeling you
have played. If you could play as you have here
before an audience they would bury you under
fluwers and lavish wealth upon you."

These were warm words, and without doubt at
the moment Winn felt all they mean., ! ut he little
realized what an influence they would instil into the
heart of Mona Hutton or what fruit they were des-
tined to bear.

"Who was that wonderful woman you told me

THE devil's oven gg

about the other day?" asked Mona, making no re-
sponse to his flattering words. "I did not know
women ever played in public."

"Oh, yes, they do," answered Winn, "and there
are many like her who have gained fame and riches.
You could if yc. would set about it and had the cour-
age to do it. You would have to study, of course,
under a teacher and learn to play classical music."

^^ And what is classical music ? " asked Mona.

"It is what no one understands, though many
claim to; or perhaps hotter described as soulless
sound," answered Winn. "I do not care for it
There is no feeling, no pulse, no heart in it."

" Then why is the wor'd willing to ^ay for it? "
she asked.

. . "J;!"^ '^°''''* " '^'"^^ t" buy anything that comes
high, he answered, " and the more in proportion to
Its value that is asked, the quicker they will buy it.
But do not ask about the world, Miss Hutton. It is
not in harmony with this spot. We are out of it
here."

Mona looked at him curiously. " You are a queer
man," she said suddenly, "and at first I was very
much afraid of you."

^ Winn laughed. " You need not be," he replied,
•' I never harmed man, woman, or child." Then as

"■!^

iil'

BOOXKATKN

■ sudden thought came to him he added, " Did you
tell your mothei you met me here the other day J "
" No," she replied, looking confused and coloring.
It was on hor lips to say that she dreaded a scolding
if she did, but she restrained herself.

" It 18 time you were starting home," he said sud-
denly, looking at his watch, " and I am so sorry," and
rising he added, " you must pardon me for saying
so, but I think you had best mention to your mother
you met me here, by accident of course. If you do
not, and if she hears of it^ aho will think it strange."
When he had assisted her down the rocky pathway
and up the steep sides, the while carrying her precious
violin, and they reached the brink of the chasm, he
paused.

The gorge was all in shadow, the wind fallen away,
and only the long sweeping ground swells caught and
mirrored the red glow of the sun now almost at the
horizon line. For a moment Winn looked out over
the broad ocean and then turned to the girl beside
him.

" Little one," he said gently, " I thank you for the
confidence you have placed in me by coming here and
for the pleasure you have given me. I shall never
forget it. There are two favors I want you to grant
me, the first to let me call you Mona, the next to

TH« devil's OVJtW

^-^me here BO«e day again and play for „,, Will

.imply.'"" ""'"" "°*^*' ^''^'^'" '•'« "'"'wered
And then as they turned toward the vUlage, he
carrying the green bag and still retaining the Z'i he
clasped to assist her out of the chasmfand guidin.
W f^tsteps along the way, a new and exalte^L^
of happ.neM came to her. But litUe was said by

star ::' "'^ " *"™'' ''••"•^ -''«1 f- ^irnZ
speak, and he was so hushed by the mood of the after-
noon m the gorge, and the blessed unity of sea and
sky and sunset here, he enjoyed silence best

her hand and when her home was reached handed
her the bag, ,nd with a whispered "good night,
Mona," passed on. ^^

CHAPTER XII

TH» FABTIira OP TH« WATB

When Winn passed out of Rockhaven the next
morning, Mona was in her dooryard kneeling be-
side a bed of flowers, her face shaded by a checked
calico sunbonnet. At the gate he paused.

"Good morning, little girl," he said pleasantly,
" do I get a flower for my good looks this morning ? "
Had Mona been a cultured society girl bhe would
have replied in the same coin, instead she merely
answered his greeting and plucking one each of a
half dozen kinds, still moist with the dew, handed
them to him. And he looked into the wondrous eyes
raised to his, saw a new light lingering in them, and
smiling softly as he took the flowers he thanked her
and went his way.

And strange to say, when he reached the quarry, he
hid that little nosegay in a shaded nook beside the
ledge where a tiny spring dripped out, and when he
returned that noon, carried them wrapped in a wet

III!

THB PABTnro OF TMD WATB

handkerchief to hia room and left them in a glau of
water. And that night when the vexation and oarea
of the day had pawed, he, a little homeaick and
with the charm of Mona'g playing still lingering
hig mind, held communion with himself. And the
cause was the foUowing missive which had reached
him: —

"Dbab Mr-,. Hahdt:

" I was surprised a few days ago when your aunt
told me you had left the city to be manager of the
Rockhaven Grnnite Co., and had gone away to
some unheard of island. I had missed seeing you
for 8 week, and when you were not at church wi*
your aunt, asked Ler what had become of you. When
f-he told me where you were it seemed likely you
would be glad to hear from home, and as I am aware
your worthy aunt hates letter writing, I thought I
would be good t» you. There isn't a bit of news to
write, and the city is getting positively unbearable.

" Mother and I are getting ready to go to the moun-
tains; we shall start early in July and your aunt
goes with us. I presume from what she said you will
remain where you are this summer. I almost envy
you, for it certainly must be cool there, and no doubt
you have or will find some sweet fishermaid to flirt

i)'

ii^uj

»4

■ooznAvnr

with. Grace ii not going with ua for she layt a babj
ia a nuiaanoe at a hotel and then ' hubby ' can't afford
it I saw Jack (your chum) the other evening at
the Bijou with a girl who waa stunning, alao Mabel
Weston and her mother.

" I do not know of anything ehte that will interest
you oxcept my addregi> for the sumnior, which J en-
close, and the hopi that you won't forget us all be-
fore your return.

" You s sincerely,

" Ethel Sheeman."
And this from the girl who two short years before
had laughed his marriage proposal to scorn.

And he was like to find some simple fishermaid
ti flirt with, was he? And the cool indifference to
that fact ; and the oov< rt, yet openly expressed in-
vitation for him to write to her.

Now Winn Hardy was not blind, and in spite of
the two years, during which he bad never met or
thought of Ethel Sherman without a pin-prick in his
heart, clear and distinct in his mird was the alluring
glance of her blue eyes that had led him to make a
fool of himseb', and the red ripe temptation of her
lips he had once stolen kisses from. And now she
was inviting him to write to her. And not two rods
away was a girl as simple and sweet as the daisies

TH« PABTIirO OV TH« WAT«

th«t bloomed in • meadow, as utterly unaophi.ticated
a. though reared within convent wall., with eye.
like deep water., and a «,ul trembling with pa«ionato
muBio I

For one hour Winn communed with himwlf, glanc-
ing attentivoly at the little knot of flower, on a .mall
table near him, and the letter beside them, and
then aroee and putting on hi. hat, loft the houw. It
wa. a .till .umnicr evening with the crewont of a
new moon glintiiig in the water, of Rockhaven harbor
and outlining the .pectral .hape of the tower on
Nor^ 11.11. To tl.i. Winn turned hi. .tep., and wat-
ing h.m«,lf wb- 3 he could look over the undulating
ocean, continued his meditation.

All b-- '■ -e, .ince the day he first entered the office
ofW«,i iHiU.cametohim. All the many .nub.
he had re ived, all the di.appointment. he had met,
aL the week., months, and year, of monotonou. drudg-
ery m that office, aU the ' fool', paradise " hour, he
had passed with Ethel Sherman, aU the harsh bitter^
ness he had heard from tho lips of Jack Nickerson -
and now the new life, new ambition, and new influ-
ence that had come f» him - passed in review. And
aa he leisurely puffed hi. cigar, looking the while
oat upon the boundless e^anse that, like an eternity,
lay before him, he saw himself as he w«i, and knw

* ' I

BOCKHATBN

that as a man of honor and for his own peace of
mind, he must choose between two ways. That he
could not escape the island for months and perhaps
for years, he saw clearly, and if he remained, as re-
main he must if he were to win success in this new
project, he must inevitably become one and a part of
the social and hard-working life of the people with
whom he mingled, sharing their hopes and encourag-
ing their ambitions. And if he did, could he go on
holding himself alool rom all tender impulses, living
the life of a recluse, as iuflexil .e as the granite he
quarried, and as void of sentiment ?

Winn Hardy besides being impulsive was endowed
with a vein of romance, and saw and felt the poetic
side of all things. The whispers of winds in the pine
trees, flowers that grew wild in out of the way nooks,
birds singing, bees gathering honey, squirrels hiding
their winter store of nuts, the sea in all its moods,
clouds sailing across a summer sky and all that was
beautiful in nature appealed to him. This island
whose frowning cliffs faced the ocean billows so defi-
antly, the placid harbor with its rippled sandy shore,
the old tide mill an ancient ruin, the dark thickets
of spruce between the rolling ledges of granite, and
the weird gorge where this girl had hid herself, each
and all seemed to him as so many bits of poetry.

THE PARTING OP THE WATS

Then the peculiar and romantic fact of her going to
such a picturesque spot, out of sight and sound of
even the island people, and beyond that the wonder-
ful sweetness and pathos of her simple music, aU
appealed to him as to but few. It was as if he felt
in her a kinship of soul, an echo of his own poetic
nature, a response to his o^ra ideals in life, with a
face like a flower, lips like two rosebuds, and eyes
like a Madonna.

For a long time he sat there in communion with
his own needs and nature, sobered by the silence of
night and eternity so near him. When he arose, turn-
ing back toward the village, he paused on the brow of
the hill, koking down upon it still and silent in the
faint moonlight. Away to the right and pointing
skyward, he saw the little spire of the church whose
bell had recalled his early boyhood days and nil the
sweet and pure influences they had contained, even the
face of his own mother, he knew he should never look
upon again. And with that recollection came the
half-pitiful words he had heard in that church that
seemed like a plea for help from starvation.

Winn was not religious. He had never been
drawn toward an open profession of faith. He had
at first felt church going and Sabbath-school lessons
an irksome task, and later a social custom, useful

I -

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BOOKKAVBir

because it bound together congenial people. He be-
lieved in God but not in prayer. His heart was in
sympathy with all the carnal needs of humanity, but
not the spiritual; those ho considered figments of
the imagination, useful, maybe, when old age came,
but needbos during healthy, active life. To the
customary observance of them he always yielded
respectful attention, but felt not their influence.
And musing there it came to him that perhaps some
divine power had directed his footsteps and broiight
him into the lives of these simple honest people for
a purpose not xinderstood. ,

When he reached his room it was fragrant with the
flowers Mona had given him that morning, and beside
them lay the letter of Ethel Sherman.

CHAPTER XIII

■A :

WILD BOSES

It has been said of the modem young lady that
the more of her home life gentleman saw, the less
likely he was to fall in love with her; but as the
days sped by and Winn saw more of Mona's, he felt
that that truism was likely to be reversed.

Then another natural result was attained, for
finding his mission there a practical one and the
money he distributed each Saturday night a powerful
argument in his favor, the islanders, from Rev.
Jason Bush downward, began to show their cordial
interest in his presence. On Sundays when he with
Jess, Mrs. Hutton, and Mrs. Moore and Mona usu-
ally formed a little group that walked together •>
church, in that modest sanctuary he was the one
most observed. All to whom he had been introduced
seemed to seek an opportunity to bow, and many of
the men, whose names he had not learned, showed
the same courtesy. When he walked out after the

^•■

100

BOCKHAVXir

'^ '■'

'.ervice, old and young would stand aside for him to
pass. The Rev. Jason Bush perhaps showed the
most interest; and in a purely business way, for when
he had opportunities (and he found many) it was the
quarry and its management and prospects which he
was desirous of discussing, instead of the spiritual
welfare of Winn, as might be expected. In fact, the
latter was never mentioned, and although Mr. Bush
lamented that Rockhaven was divided into two sects,
and that neither church had a following suflScient to
support it, it was here again the business side of the
matter v lich seemed uppeipost in that worthy par-
son's mind.

But it was the cordiality shown by Mrs. Hutton
on all possible occasions that interested Winn most,
because it appealed to the domestic and home-loving
side of his nature. lie had never known much of
home life since maturity, for his aunt was not a
home-maker, leaving that to her servants and scold-
ing because they failed, and to see whpt thought and
care could do in that direction, even though in a
modest way, attracted him. And since her door ap-
peared always open to him and an unfailing welcome
waiting, he would have been less than human had he
not availed himself of the opportunity. Hardly an
evening passed that he did not see or speak with

WILD B0SE8 101

either mother or daughter, and occasionally made
one at their tahle. It was here that Jess was often
in evidence, usually eating his dinner there — al-
ways on Sunday. Then again, as the grass-grown
dooryard of his domicile adjoined the flower-filled
one of Mrs. Hutton, by some occult process a freshly
cut bunch of roses, sweet peas or pinks, found its
way to his room each day. It was a trifle, perhaps,
but it is such trifles that make up home life.

And Mona herself, now that her timidity had
worn away t" a certain extent, began to grow upon
him. He had, from the evening when he communed
with himself in solitude, continually treated her
with a sort of big brother consideration; but as he
saw more of her and realized the limitations of her
life, so small in comparison with her aspirations;
how day by day she livod, feeling herself a prisoner
on the island, with no one there who understood her
except Jess, a little bud of pity started in Winn's
heart, and the temptation that assailed him that day
in the cave grew stronger.

" If I should feel the witchery of her playing in
that romaniic spot a few times," he said to himself,
" I should fall in love with her, and couldn't help
it."

But temptations of that nature are hard to resist.

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103

aooxHAvxir

^1'

and like sweet potations, once tested, we desire to
sip again. So it came about that one morning Winn
said to her: " Mona, I am going to treat myself to a
half day away from the quarry, and if your mother
is willing, I want you to visit the gorge with me this
afternoon and bring your violin. I would rather
you asked her consent," he added pointedly, " I shall
enjoy it better."

As this perfect June afternoon and its enjoyment
had much to do with shaping the heart histories of
these two young people, considerable space can well
be devoted to it, and especially to their exchange of
ideas and feelings.

" I will let you carry the violin now," said Winn,
when they had left the village out of sight, " I want
to gather a few wild roses to decorate your trysting
place. I have odd fancies about such things and be-
lieve, as the Greeks did, that eveiy cave and grotto is
inhabited by some nymph or gnome. From the way
your playing there has affected me each time, I am
sure it is some beautiful nymph who has chosen the
Devil's Oven for her abode, so I am going to present
her with a nosegay."

" I have read about fairies," responded Mona, art^
lessly, " but I do not believe such creatures ever ex-
isted."

^ ^

WILD B0BB8

108

"But they do," asserted Winr, smiling, as he
gathered his roses, "and if your imagination is
strong enough, you can feel their presence many
times. I made sure there was one hid somewhere,
that day I first heard you playing."

" And did you think so when you hid behind the
rock and scared me half to death 8 " she queried.

" No," he responded, " I knew it was a real flesh
and blood fairy then, for I had seen you come out of
the gorge."

" And so you came back to scare me," she said
playfully, "that wasn't nice. If you wanted to
know who it was, why didn't you ask Uncle Jess \ He
would have told you."

" Yes, and spoiled all the romance of it," answered
Winn. " It's like detecting the presence of nymphs
and fairies. If you go to a grotto or cave alone and
listen for them, you will feel or hear them always, in
some way."

" If I believed that," replied Mona, seriously, " I
would never go to the cave alone again. I should
feel it to be haunted."

" But you admit you can play better there, and
feel more of the spirit of your music," asserted
Winn ; " tell me why that is."

" Because I am alone, and feel myself to be so,"

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104

BOOXHATKN

she answered firmly. " I do not believe it is due to
any unseen creature."

" But you played with wondrous feeling the day I
came there with you," he replied, " you weren't
alone then."

" I am glad you think so," she answered, turning
away, " I tried to, but was so afraid of you, I
trembled."

Winn smiled at her candor. " You don't know
how to flirt, do you, Mona ? " he asked pointedly,
" you utter the truth always."

" Does flirting consist of. deception ? " she asked,
looking earnestly at him.

" Yes," he answered, " and of the most adroit kind.
It's the weapon that all world-wise women use to en-
slave men, and the more skilled they are at it, the
more assured is their success."

" Do men ever deceive ? " she queried, her fathom-
less eyes still on him.

" Yes, little girl," he answered, looking away and
out over the ocean and resolving to be sincere, " men
are the same as women in that respect ; some do it in
self-defence, and others out of selfishness. Then
once in a while, one will never do it, except out of
kindness. Such men are usually imposed upon."

When they reached the briuk of the chasm he took

WILD SOSES

106

hep hand. " I am so afraid you will glip in going
down," he said, " and if you were hurt, I should
never forgive myself." He retained it down the
Bteep path and up the devious way to the cave. When
it was reached she seated herself and said, smiling at
him, " Now you are here, let me see you give your
flowers to the fairy."

Fop answer he gallantly touched them with his
lips and handed them to her. " You are the fairy
who lives here," he said, " for I shall never think of
this spot without seeing you in it."

Mona colored a little and then a shade crossed her
face. " Isn't that deception « " she said. " You do
not mean it."

" I mean to say every nice thing I can think of
to^ay," he answered, " and do all I can to make you
enjoy it. A truly happy hour is a rare experience in
life, and I want to find one for you." Then, taking
his cigar case out and stretching himself on one side
of the cave, he added: "I wish we had brought
some cuf' js. I will, the next time we come."

" I do not think how hard the rock is," she an-
swered; " when I am playing I forget where I am.
even."

" Well, forget it quick," he said, " so I can. Only
do not play ' Annie Laurie ' till the last thing. You

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■OCKHATm

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'ii

brought • mist to my eyee with it the other day. It's
a Bweet bit, full of teara."

And then, not heeding his pleasantriea, many of
which she did not understand, Mona drew her dearly
loved brown fiddle out cf its case, and once more that
uncanny den in the rocks echoed to its magic. A
medley of old-timo ballads, jigs, reels, and dance
music came forth in succession, while Winn, for-
getting his cigar, yielded to her music and watched
her lissom body encased in blue flannel, open at the
throat, swaying slightly an she played, her winsome
face turned from him in profile and eyes closed at
times. Once only, when a certain air recalled the
past, did he think of the woman who had scorned
him, and whose letter was still unanswered.

" Do not play any more now," he said finally,
when Mona paused, " you must be tired."

" I must have tired you of it," she answered
bluntly, " and I am glad. I want to hear you talk
and tell me about fairies and the great city whero
you lived, and about that woman who played before
people. I wish I could learn to play as you say she
did."

" Oh, there's not much to tell about fairies," he an-
swered, smiling at her earnestness, " they are merely
imaginary and used to amuse children. Many years

S. !

WILD son

107

ago, when the world was young, people believed in
and worshipped them as gods and goddesses; now
they are poetic fancies."

" What are poetic fancies ? " she asked, under-
standing him only partially.

" Well, for instance," he answered, " a poet would
describe this gorge as a way through the cli£F carved
by Neptune, and this cave a shelter the mermaids
sought to comb their tresses and sing the songs of the
sea. Of '^Id every cascade and grotto was believed
to be inhabited by nymphs and gnomes, »very grove
by wood sprites and brownies. If they saw a brook
rippling over the pebbles in the sunlight, they said it
was elfins dancing; and in autumn when the fallen
leaves blew over the hilltops, it was the brownies
holding carnival."

" I do not believe such creatures ever did exist,"
she replied, " but I shall enjoy coming here all the
better for having heard about them."

Then as if she already looked to him as a source of
all information, she added, " Tell me about the
women in your city who ride in carriages and wear
beautiful dresses."

A shade of annoyance crossed his face. " I would
rather tell you about the fairiea, little girl," he an-
swered bitterly ; " the women in my world are mostly

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108

XOCKIIAVKN

rliarniiiiK lian. They live to outRliinc each other in
clreM, they utter pretty sih-ccIiob that are false, they
go to ehiirch to show mu their raiment and come back
to nneor at what otliers wear, they consider a man as
clij;il)le for a hushand solely bocaiiso he has money,
and if he tells them the truth, call him a fool. I do
not adinirc them much, Mona, and the less you know
of them the better woman you will grow to be, and
the better wife you will make ndiiie man."

Mona flushed slifciitly and raising her eyes and
looking full at him, responded, " Do all the men in
your world despise women as you do, and is there not
among them one who is good and tender and truth-
ful? "

Winn remained silent a moment, for the delicate
reproach of her words was unexpected.

" There may be some," he answered evasively at
last, " but I have never met them and a man is apt
to judge all women by those he has known."

" And if there is now and then one among them
who is not false-hearted," continued Mona, " is she
not respected and loved for it ? "

" She might be by some," he answered doubtfully,
" but most would call her stupid."

" Would the men call her stupid ? " persisted
Mona.

WILD RORM

109

" Some of them would," he answered, smiling nt
her eameotnesB, " hut most of them wouhl take ad-
vantago of it. World-wise men jcn-w lo lie selfish."
Then, as if the subject was distasteful, or her in(|ui-
ries too pointed, ho added, " Do you know wl.it l..ve
is, Monu, and have you never had a lover amouK the
young fishermen here ? "

" I have read about it," she answered with perfect
sincerity, and smiling at her own thought, " but I've
never had mueh for nny of the boys I've known;
they smell too fishy."

This time Winn laughed heartily. " And is your
nose the by-road to your heart 3 " he asked.

"It may be," she replied, also laughing, "if I
have one."

It w.i!< the first coquettish word she had so far ut-
tered, ond Winn did not like it.

" That does not sound like you. Mono," he replied
soberly, " your greatest eharm, and it is a charm, is
sincerity. When you speak that way you remind me
of the ladies in my world, and I do not like them."

" And if I am always truthful," she said, " you
will call me simple, won't you ? "

" No, I told you I admired that in yon," he said,
"but you have not answered my question, Mona.
Have you never had a lover i "

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110

BOOKHATBir

" I have had two or three," she replied again, look-
ing sober, " at least they said they loved me, but I
did not return it."

And as Winn looked at the girlish figure, just
showing the rounded curves of womanhood beneath
its close-fitting blue flannel gown, and at the pansy
face with eyes like one of those purple petals, fixed
on him, he, manlike, thought how sweet it would be
to moisten them with the dew of love's light and feel
the touch of her velvety lips.

Bui should he try for that prize, and did he want
it, if he could win it ?

The lowering sun had thrown the shadows of the
spruce trees adown the gorge, the wind scarce ruffled
the ocean and only the low lullaby of its undulations
crept up the ravine. It was the parting of day and
night, the good-by of sunshine, the peace of summer
twilight.

" Now, Mona," he half whispered, as if fear-
ing to scare the mermaids away, " play ' Annie
Laurie M"

And lost to the world, he watched her bending over
and caressing that old brown fiddle, even as a mother
would press her baby's face to her own, again and
once again came that whisper of a love that never
dies, a refrain that holds the pathos of life and part-

WILD B08E8

111

ing in it8 chords, a love cry centuries old, . . sweet m
lieaven, as sad as death.

■' Oome, little girl," he said, rising s aid.nly v.-he,,
only the ocean's whisper reached his ea.vs. • ifs tin i
to go home." And as, clasping her hanc, and la ,1-
lence leading her out of the gorge, he noticed when
one of the roses she carried from the cave fell among
the rocks, she stooped and picked it up.

ri '■

CHAPTEE XIV

J. MALCOLM WESTON

There is in this land of the free, where all men
are created equal (on paper), a class of financial
sharpers, whose ambition and sole occupation is to
secure for themselves the wealth of others by the most
occult and far-reaching scheming ever evolved by
human brain. They toil not, neither do they pro-
duce, yet Satan with all his archness is not equipped
like one of these. There is no taint of illegality in
their methods, they are outwardly the best of men,
heralded by the press as great financiers, railroad
magnates, oil, copper, and iron kings, praised by the
rich and toadied to by the poor. They are envied by
many, lauded by editors who seek advertisements,
and (if they contribute liberally) praised by college
presidents and preachers alike. Political fortunes
are turned by their nod, laws enacted in their aid,
the code of morals shaded in their favor, club doors
opened, and society bowing low whichever way they
turn. Only the toiling millions whose lives are one
iia

J. MALCOLM WESTON II3

long fight against poverty think or speak ill of them
and such are not considered. Those magnates of ex-
tortion so colossal that it is legal, have one trite ex-
pression that contains their contempt for the millions

who envy, and that is, " The public be d d."

Of their operation on the chess board of finance
little need be said. It is known, or at least its re-
suits are, to high or lou, rich or poor. These octo-
puses, or rather human sharks, organize trusts, corner
every necessary of life where conditions will permit-
buy bankrupt railroads, inflate their stock, boom it
by systematic deception and then unload it at top
prices on the countless flocks of lambs ever ready to
buy what is dear, and who never by any known pro-
cess can be induced to buy what is cheap.
And those are financiers I

There is another class, usually v ■ ,s money
but equal in brains and audacity, wh. . , e come to
be Imown as promoters. Relatively speaking they
should be called dogfish. They would be financiers
If they could, but lacking capital to buy railroads, or
comer everything on the earth, except water, they
merely organize schemes and sell stock. How many
and how varied those are, it is waste of space to spec-
ify All that the patient reader need do is consult
the pages of any or all city dailies and read the

114

BOCKEAVEir

I -

tempting list of schemes there to be found. All are
alike in the main, for all offer safe investments, sure
and ample returns, indorsed by names that glitter,
and promise everything under the sun, — except to
return your money if you do not get value promised.

Of this class was J. Malcolm Weston.

He had organized two or three glittering bubbles
before the firm of Weston & Hill was established,
but from lack of capital failed to reap the hoped-for
reward. Then along came Hill, a retired manufac-
turer, whose history shall be given in due time, who
had more money than braids and more conceit than
either. Weston, a shrewd and smooth-tongued
schemer, reading Hill at a glance, was not long in
flattering that gullible man into a partnership and
taking him and his money into camp, as it wev,'
For a time, and while Winn Hardy was serving ap-
prenticeship, the firm conducted a fairly honest and
respectable business. They bought and sold stocks
and bonds of all kinds, that is, they sold and then
bought to fill orders only, — a species of commission
business perfectly safe, but not satisfying to Weston.
He longed to soar, to organize a great scheme, a glit-
tering bubble, to see his name in print as a king of
finance, and do it on other people's money — and
Hill's.

J. MALCOLM WESTON 115

Then one day, while off with his broker, Simmons,
on the latter's steam yacht, visiting various north
coast islands, the impiilse culminated.

" Why not buy one of these inlands," said Sim-
mons, " and start a quarry company ? You can buy
one for a song and a granit^quarrying industry
sounds safe and will catch the cautious. I am in-
tending to build a fine residence in the near future
and you can furnish me the stone. In return I'll
market stock enough to pay for it. We can find an
island with a harbor and buy it, or a part, which is
all that IS needful, and you can do the rest." And
thus the scheme was hatched, and when J. Malcolm
Weston, the to-be great financier, returned to the city
he was sole owner of Jess Hutton's unused quarry
and the Rockhaven Granite Company was born.

It took time, however, for Hill was a cautious
man, holding on to his purse-strings with the grip of
death, and Weston must needs approach him cir-
cuitously. Then there were outsiders to warm up,
as It were, men of some financial standing whose
names were of value, to interest; a charter to be ob-
tained, and all the legal and business dotail necessary
to the carrying out of a scheme to be attended to. It
also needed all of Weston's plausible arguments to
perfect the plot, and summer came around again be-

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EOCKHAVBW

fore the conspiracy was ready to be launched. Then
" the street " was cautious, and 'knowing Weston's
reputation in the past, was not eager, or even willing,
to buy this stock. At first, a few credulous people
like Winn's aunt and two or three others who be-
lieved in Weston bought small lots, and the men
whose names appeared on the prospectus were each
and all given stock in due ratio to their prominence.
And then Simmons began his fine work. He knew,
and so did Weston, that every share they had given
away would be offered for sale as soon as a price for
it had been eatablished " on' 'change " and then the
scheme world fall flat. But Simmons had ideas of
his own. "We must wait," he said, "until your
man Hardy has shipped us one or two loads of gran-
ite, then herald that fact repeatedly in the papers
until the dear confiding public don't know whether
one or ten shiploads have arrived, and then — de-
clare a dividend ! "

It was not long after, and when Winn Hardy, the
honest dupe that he was, was either zealously striving
to push the Rockhaven Granite Company interests
toward success, or thinking about what fine eyes
Mona Hutton had, that the Market News contained
the following item : —

" The first load of granite destined for the new and

J. MALCOLM WESTON

117

palatial icJdcnce which Richard Simmons, the well-
known broker, is about to build, has arrived. It came
from the Kockhaven Granite Company's quarries on
an island they own, which producer the finest quality
of building stone obtainable."

A week later this item also appeared in the same
financial sheet : —

" It is rumored that all the treasury stock of the
Rockhaven Granite Company has been subscribed for
and that this enterprising corporation is overwhelmed
with orders for their excellent product. This is due
to the rapid growth of our beautiful city and the con-
sequent demand for building materials."

And J. Malcolm Weston, after reading them in
the privacy of his office, stroked his abundant side
wliiskers with an admiring caress, while a smile of
satisfaction spread over his genial face. It was the
beginning of his long-cherished ambition to pose as a
great financier and it filled his s ul with joy.

" A dozen or more of such items will start the ball
rolling in glorious shape," he said to Hill, "and
boom Rockhaven to beat the cards."

But Hill, the narrow-minded and close-fisted man
that he was, only looked cross, and sourly asked
" What did they cost ? " '

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CHAPTER XV

A MATTER OF BUSINESS

As tlie days passed on Winn noticed that more and
more interest cnine to be felt in the Rockhaven Gran-
ite (Company and his management. And when the
first schooner he had chartered to load with qiiarried
stone came into the harbor and alongside the little
wharf in front of the quarry, almost a bree/o of ex-
citement seemed to ripple through the village. The
women whose husbands were working there came down
to see the loading, children wanted to climb aboard
the vessel, and even the Rev. Jason Bush spent hours
watching the massive blocks as they were swung on
board. Old Jess Hutton left his store, and the people
to help themselves, every afternoon, and perched on
a convenient outpost, looked on. Only Mona kept
away, and when one evening Winn asked her why,
she colored slightly and replied, " It hurts me a little
to gee that old ledge Uncle Jess used to own being
blasted and carried off."

It wasn't her only reason, though a part of it ; the
118

A, MATTKB OF BDHINESS

119

rest was of such a nature that Mona kept it locked
in her brearf For the good natives of Itockhaven, as
well as otl.erd, had noticed thot Winn always walked
with her going and coming from church and had com-
mented upon it, and Mona had heard of their com-
ments.

Winn was not her lover as yet, siie felt, and not
likely to be. She could not and would not avoid
walking and talking with him, but she could avoid
seeming to pursue him over to the quarry. It was
all due to a remark Mrs. Moore had made in a
neighborly way.

" I like Mr. Hardy, right well," she had said one
morning when Mona brought in a fresh bunch of
Juno roses and asked that she put them in his room,
" an' if I was a young gal like you, I'd set my cap for
him. It looks as if you had, a-bringin' him fresh
posies, an' if ye keep it up the right way, an' don't
let him make too free with ye, ye kin. It 'ud be a
great catch for ye if ye did."

After that Mona brought no more flowers for
Winn's room, but her mother, observant ever, and
world-wise in a way, did so, and Winn never knew
the difference.

When the second load of stone had been shipped,
and the July sun had begun to shrivel the scanty

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120

BOCKHAVIir

grass in Mrs. Mooro's dooryard, her two sons sailed
into the harbor one day to spend a Sunday there.
They were browned by the sea-winds and redolent
of its crisp odors, and when Winn came back from the
quarr' at supper time he found them there.

" 1 hoar ye'ro blowin' up an' carryin' off our
'"liind," said David, the oldest, on being introduced,
" an' it's a good thing. The rock ain't o' much
account an' most on't is in the way. Thar ain't
room 'nough 'l-iirside o' the water here to dry fish,
let alone settin' up houses."

And that Saturday evening, when Winn, as usual,
repaired to the store of Jess Hutton to pay off his
men, this swarthy sailor was sitting ipon the doorstep
of Mrs. Hutton's home, chewing Cubacco vigorously
and talking to Mona.

The next day, too, dressed in a suit of new clothes
that, to use a slang phrase, "could be heard across
the island," he boldly and with an air of proprietor-
ship walked beside her to church and seated himself
in the same pew.

Winn, who had never taken this liberty, and who
sat with Mrs. Moore just to the rear, watched Mona
industriously and noticed that once when the young
fisherman leaned over to whisper she odged away.
All that day not once did Winn exchange a word with

A MATTEB OV BUHINES8

121

her except the "good morning ' that was his early
grncling, nnd when evening came he once more lit
his cii?ar and strolled up Norse Hill to commune with
himself, for the sight of tliat swaggering son of
Neptune making himself agreeable to Mona was not
pleasant. In this respect men are all alike, and
whether they want a woman or not, a shadow of the
old instinct that existed among the cave dwellers is
latent.

It was two days after when the brothers sailed
away, and by that time Winn had decided that no
matter how interested young Moore was in Mona, she
reciprocated no part of it.

And then another, and totally unexpected success
in his new life came to him, and that from Jess.

"I've been layin' back 'n' watehin' how things
was goin' on," observed that pliilosopher one evening
when they were alone . 3 s,torc, " an' how ye have
behaved yerself, an' I'm goin' to be plain spoken with
ye. In the fust place I've made up my mind ye're a
good, honest and well-meanin' young man, an' if
'twas goin' ter help ye any, an' if ye are likely to
make it yer home here a year or two, I'd buy a few
shares of this stock jist ter show ye 'n' yer folks Rock-
haven appreciates the wages ye're payin' out. I'm
goin' ter ask ye a few questions, an' if matters is all

133

■OOKHAVCH

li!

right, I'll take five hundrud on't an' mebbe I cud
git Caii'n Mooro an' tlap'n Uohy 'n' one or two
otheni to buy a leetle. They would if they knew I
had."

To say that Winn was aurprised was to put it
mildly.

" I will gladly answer any question you may ask,
Mr. Button, and truthfully," he replied. " I know
how you feel in regard to tliis enterprise and how
much any one would hate to lose a dollar they invested
in our stock. It is because of this that I have not so
far asked a soul, not even you, to invest a cent with
us, though we are ready and shall be glad to have
you. As to how long I shall stay here, that is a
matter over which I have no control. I am only a
manager for the company. I own some of the stock
and draw a fair salary, and if this quarry pays (and
I shall do my best to make it) I may stay here for
life."

" Is this here Weston wuth a good deal o' money,"
queried Jess n response, " an' what sort o' man is
he reckoned ii the city ? Is he counted as square an*
lionest, or a sharper ? "

" So far us I know," responded Winn, " he is an
honorable business man ; and although this quarrying
company is like any other enterprise — a venture

A ICATTKB or BURINKN8

123

I do not think Mr. Weston would have gone into it un-
le»B he felt Bure of making money."

Jew asked a good many other questions which,
witli their answers, not being pertinent to the thread
of this narrative, need not be quoted. When Winn
left him that niglit, after ho had gone over in detail
all he knew regarding Weston & Hill and their busi-
ness, it was with the feeling that he had conquered
Rockhaven and its oracle without an effort. Ho little
realized that a far more subtile influence than divi-
dends had intere8>»<l Jess Hutton, and a desire to con-
serve matters to the end that Mona might bo made
the happier, was the motive force that governed him.
" I've noticed," he said a little later to Mrs. Hut-
ton, " that this young man sorter takes to Mona 'n'
she kinder cottons to him. I think it 'ud be a good
idee if ye'd jest caution her not to Im free with him
'n' kinder hold herself off as it were. These city
chaps liavo a winnin' way with 'em to a gal, 'n' I'd
hate to see her gi' n hnitache out on't." He did
not tell Mrs. Hutton he had bought five hundred
shares of Rockhaven stock and insisted that Winn
also keep the matter a secret.

A week later Winn received the following missive
from Jack Nickerson, only a portion of which it is
necessary to quote.

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124

EOCKHAVEN

ill

"... I hear," he wrote, " that you have captured
an island and are sending it here in shiploads ac-
cording to the Market News (two clippings of which
I enclose). They show the fine Italian hand of
Weston or Simmons. I hope you are enjoying your-
self and drawing your per annum with promptness
and regularity. The street is growing curious as to
what deep-laid scheme Weston & Hill are prepar-
ing to spring upon it, and Rockhaven stock is not
as yet selling to any extent. I saw the gay and fes-
tive Weston out driving yesterday and Simmons was
with him. They are a pair'that will bear watching.
I hope they won't play you for a tenderfoot in this
new deal. Last week I took a run up to the mountain
where Ethel Sherman and her mother are spending
the summer. Ethel was, as might be expected, deep
in a flirtation with a young idiot in golf clothes
and hardly noticed me. Incidentally I heard that he
was possible heir to millions."

" What an inveterate scoffer Jack is," was Winn's
mental comment on this missive. " He sees no good
motive in any one ; " and then he re-read the long
and flowery letter from Weston received the same
time and congratulating him on his excellent work.
Also notifying him they had as usual anticipated his
pay-roll and expressed sufficient currency to meet it.

A MATTER OP BC8INE88

125

And of the two letters the one from Weston seemed
to him just then to be honest and business-like, and
Jack's as but the sneering of a confirmed cynic.

" They wouldn't be putting good money into this
quarry if they did not see a safe and sure return," he
thought, and then ho took Ethel Sherman's letter
that had been lying for weeks unanswered on his
table and tore it into shreds.

A few days later he received instructions to make
a present of fifty shares of stock to the minister of
Rockhaven church, and to assure him that the Com-
pany donated it for the good of the cause and to
show (heir cordial interest in the religious welfare of
the island. And the Rev. Jason Bush, who never in
his life owned more than the humble roof that shel-
tered him, and whose patient wife turned and dyed
her raiment until worthless, marvelled much. And
more than that, twenty-four hours had not passed ere
every man, woman, and child on the island had been
told it, for such unexpected, such astounding liberal-
ity seemed nothing short of a miracle.

11 r

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■I V

CHAPTEK XVI

THE GBOWTH OP A BUBBLE

" Yotrrro Hardy's making his mark down on the
island," observed J. Malcolm Weston to his partner
that morning when they had received notice of the
stock purchase made by Jess, " and if the fellow keeps
on as he has started the quarry won't stand us out a
penny."

" I doubt if he does," responded Mr. Hill, who, be
it said, fulfilled the part of a balance wheel to Wes-
ton. " From what you have told me there aren't
many on the island who have any spare money."

" Oh, you can't always tell by the clothes such jays
wear how much they have hid away in old stockings,"
responded Weston. " Those mossbacks never spend
a cent and once they grasp a dollar it passes out of
circulation."

" I am surprised Hardy landed this man Hutton
for five hundred," said Hill, " and so early in the
game."

" I am also," replied Weston, " and if I felt sure
128

THE QBOWTH OF A BUBBLX

127

that Hardy could be trusted with our plans, I would
tell him what our next move is, but I am not. The
trouble, .vith him is, he is too honest, and when we be-
gin to throw out bait in the way of advance divi-
dends, he will suspect our game and I am not sure
how he will take it"

" Do not think of that yet," replied Hill, "so long
as we keep all the cards in our own hands, we know
where the joker is, but never afterward."

" I am a good mind to take a run down to Rock-
haven," continued Weston meditatively, " and get
better acquainted with this old duffer Hutton and the
rest. Also make some of them a present of a little
stock, just to interest them. It's the way to catch
mackerel and those few shares will return us good
results when we declare a dividend."

" Better not," replied the more cautious of the two,
" those old fishermen are not fools, and will conclude
that if you are willing to give stock away, it's of no
value. When we do pay a dividend this Hutton will
not keep it a secret and Hardy can then reap the
harvest. Besides, he and his honesty must be consid-
ered. It won't do to alarm him. He believes the
scheme is Ic^timate, and as he has a finger in the pie,
will work for his own end and sell all the stock he
can. What I should advise is that we notify him

■m

128

BOCKHATBir

the price is now two dollars per share and let that
leaven work as it will. How much stock have we
sold already ? "

" About six thousand shares," replied Weston,
" counting that bought by Hardy."

" And two per cent on the par value of that,"
continued Hill, figuring on a slip of paper, " would
be twelve hundred dollars. I think one per cent
enough as a starter and that we should pay it now."

" No," replied the more liberal Weston, " it's not
best to pinch in the matter of chum, as the fishermen
say, and do things l v halves. If we must bait them
now let us bait the;a well."

And bait them well they did, for the next day's
issue of the Market News contained the following : —

" It is with pleasure we announce that the Rock-
haven Granite Company has declared a dividend of
two per cent on the par value of the stock, payable
at the office of Weston & Hill. As we stated a short
time ago in these columns, this well-known and relia-
ble firm, whose enterprise is now so agreeably proven,
do nothing by halves and are only too glad to dis-
tribute all profits as soon as accrued. The stock has
already doubled in price and we predict will reach
par in the near future."

And when Jess Hutton received by mail a check

THE GROWTH OP A BUBBLE

129

for one hundred dollars as his share of the dividend
upon the par value of five hundred shares and the
parson one for ten, Kockhaven began to get excited,
and all who had a dollar to invest made haste to call
upon Winn. Captain Doty bought one hundred
shares. Captain Moore, uncle to David the irrepres-
sible, the same, a few others lesser amounts, and to
cap the climax, poor hardworking Mrs. Moore, Winn's
landlady, came to him.

" I've got a little money laid away in the savin's
bank ashore," she said, " an' it's only drawin' four
cents a dollar, which ain't much. If you thinks it's
safe mebbe I'd best take some out an' buy some o' this
stock. They all tell me it's payin' and like to go up."
And that night, in the seclusion of his own room,
as Winn Hardy thought matters over, and realized
how thi^ speculative excitement was starting on Eock-
haven, just a faint suspicion that the golden apple
might be rotten at the core came to him. As was his
way when he wanted to think and think hard, he
at once betook himself out of sight and sound of even
that quiet village, and hied away to the top of Norse
Hill. Here he lit a cigar and planted himself beside
the strange structure there, the history of which no
one knew.

And how solemn and silent the still summer even-

ill

if''*

130

BOCKUAVZN

ing seemed, and how like eternity the boundless oeean
faintly visible in the starlight. Only its low mur-
mur at the foot of the cliff and just a faint breeze
redolent of its salty zest reached him. And of Wes-
ton & Hill and this new outcome ?

He had worked and talked to this end; he had
hoped for it, striving to bring it about, and now that
the quarry was each day a busy hive of workers, the
third vessel load of quarried stone nearly all on board
and ready to ship, the entire island agog over this
new industry, and not only willing but anxious to in-
vest their hard-earned savings in Rockhaven stock,
and a prosperous outcome to hia ambition in sight,
Winn hesitated.

And the more he ground the grist of Weston &
Hill's scheme in his mind there beside the old stone
tower, the less he liked it and the deeper the germ
of suspicion took root. And the cauae of it all was
the two per cent dividend !

Winn Hardy, though a country-bom boy and lack-
ing in worldly experience, as well as education, was
no fool. He knew that two ship-loads of granite,
though sold at a fabulous price, would not pay a profit
equal to half the cost the quarry had so far been, to
say nothing of a dividend, and the only conclusion
was not flattering to his firm's honesty. Then one

it f\

THE GROWTH OF A BUBBLE

131

by one, every little detail of the entire affair; every
instruction they had given; the stock they had pre-
sented to him; the letters they had written; the do-
nation to the parson; Jack Nickerson's innuendoes;
and now this unreasonable payment of dividends
which he knew were not earned, — all passed in re-
view. Honest himself, he was slow to suspect dis-
honesty in others, but the longer and more carefully
he weighed these facts in his mind the plainer he
saw the word " fraud " written on each one of them.
And he had put every dollar of the few he had
saved into this stock and borrowed some besides!
And worse than that ; this honest old fellow Jess, out
of good will to him had put five hundred in and per-
suaded others to invest also!

Suspicion is like sailing in a fog; wo cannot tell
where clear air ends and fog begins, only the first
we know the air seems damp and chill, the sun ob-
scured and danger near. And so with Winn, there
on Rockhaven, with his vocation and paths in life
all mapped out, these people looking toward him as
8 benefactor and ready to trust him with their money
and the sun of success shining! And all at once the
air seemed chill with the fog of deceit and.fraud, and
he knew not where he was. To refuse those who
would buy more stock, he dare not, since it would

it
M

>ii|

182

BOOKHATE^

awaken suspicion; to accept it was as bad, for it
compromised him the deeper. For a long hour he
tried to think a way for himself out of this fog,
and the more he thought the more positive his sus-
picion grew, and then he returned to his abode. And
there in Rock Lano and as if to increase his burden
of responsibility, was Mona sitting in the porch of her
htunble home alone.

" Why, little gi-1," he said softly, pausing at the
gate, " are you not abed and asleep ? "

And Mona, unconscious qi how or in what way
it would strike him, and in the utter innocence of her
heart, came quickly out to where he was standing.

" I was lonesome," she said simply, " and wait-
ing for you to come back. I saw you go up the hill
and wondered what for." And Winn, despondent and
worried as ho was, and looking down into the sweet
face and earnest eyes upraised to him, felt their ten-
der sympathy wondrously sweet.

" I went up thero to think," he said, " and to be
alone. It is a way I have when business troubles
me." And bidding her "good night" he left her.

lis

CHAPTER XVII

'3?

IW THI PATH OF MOONLIOHT

Fob a few weeks Winn worried over the suspicions
of Weston & Hill's honesty that seemed like a cloud
of danger, and then, to a certain extent, it passed
away. Tc - one, not even Jess, did he dare coniide
them, but just drifted on, day by day, doing the duty
he was paid to do. Each week came his pay-roll and
salary remittance, and an assuring and pleasant
letter from the firm. It also contained a request
or hope that he would not forget to sell stock when
he could. This latter, however, made no impression
on Winn. Collectively, he had sold about one thou-
sand shares to these islanders, and that he felt was
enough. In fact, believing, as he had almost come to
do, that the entire scheme was a gigantic swindle, it
was certainly all he intended to sell, and more than
he wished he had sold. Then there was another mat-
ter of serious interest, and that was Mona.

Between her and himself, these summer days, there
had come a little bond of feeling, deep-rooted in her
133

I'? '>ii

184

BOCXHATIN

simple but passionate nature, and more lightly in
his. To her it was a T.ew wonder-world, and as
each evening when he .uanced to linger by the gate
watching her, as she cared for the sweet wilHams,
pinks, and peonies that grew in her dooryard, or
later when he sat with her in the vine-hid porch,
chatting of commonplaces or relating incidents of the
great world outoide, his earnest eyes, the melodious
tones of his voice, and the careless, half cynical, half
tender way he had of expressing himself, only in-
creased the charm. Occasionally, on Thursday even-
ings, when her mother, as usual, made one of the
little band who gathered in the church, they two
would stroll over to the cKff beyond Norse Hill or up
the road to Northaven to the old tide mill. On two
occasions he had persuaded her to take her violin
and visit the gorge with him, where she played at his
bidding, her heart gladdened by the thought that he
eared to hear her. But she preferred his poetic fan-
cies and world-taught sayings to the violin, and since
she was so charming and interested a listener, it was
inevitable that he talked much. Another matter also
troubled him seriously.

He had, at the beginning of th f acquaintance,
and from a desire to utter pleasant words to Mona,
assured her that she was gifted with a remarkable

IW THE PATH or MOONLIOUT

18C

talent for playing, and if she would but make the
effort, the world would bow before her. It wag a
kindly speech, and charmed as ho was by time, place,
and the power of the old love songs she rendered with
euch exquisite feeling, he really meant it, little real-
uing its effect on her. N^^ ^^^j ^^ jjj ^^^j.^^ .^^
and coula not fail to see that every word he uttcre.1
was considered by her as authoritative, he wished
that he had been more cautious. Then again, he un-
derstood her better and saw what an ardent child of
nature she was, and how her heart and soul vibrated
to every pulse of the ocean and the mystic romance
of the wild gorge she sought so often. To him now
she seemed like a veritable nymph of old, or a mer-
maid, whose soul was attuned to the wild voice of
wind and wave sighing through the rock-walled ra-
vine and the thicket of spruce above it. For such a
creature of moods and fancies to thrust herself into
a merciless world, where sentiment was a jest and
romance an illusion, seemed a sacrilege. And he
was to blame for her wish to do so ! Then again, he
felt that if the world could but see and hear her, it
must, perforce, crown her with the laurel wreath.
True to his impulsive nature, in this as in all things,
he alternated in his own opinions as to what was best
for her.

t'.

■ ri

il
'''1.

136

BOCKIIAVBN

t Iff

''.i

And ao the summer days passed, and Winn, half
conscious that she was learning the sad lesson of love,
and yet stifling his conscience with the feeling that
ho was only jilaying the role of big brother, which he
had decided to adopt, allowed the (to him) pleasant
pastime to continue.

It may be said that it was unfair for him, a pol-
ished man of the world, and knowing full ^■.(11 that
there could be but one result to this delightful inti-
macy, to allow it to continue, and yet he did. And it
must also be asserted, th'* under the same circum-
stances and like provocation, few men there are who
would not do iikcwi'- .

One surprise ca'ue to him, however, for ho had
sent to the city for a book of instructions on the
violin and a supply of new music, only to find, when
he gave tlium to her, that she was unable to read a
note.

" I told you," she said plaintively, " that I knew
nothing about music except what Uncle Jess has
taught me, and I wonder how you can think I play
so well. If only I could go away and loam even a
little, I should be so happy."

" Yes," he responded, smiling at her, for he had
ei me to speak as he thought and felt, " and learn also
that men admired you, and grow vain of your looks,

IN Till PATH OI' MOONMOIIT

187

and become one of the artful women of wxiicty, in-
itead of sweet and jmro-minded Mona. You are
better off where you arc, for here you are happy and
carc-frec."

Tlien one evening eame another, and more aerioua,
revelation to liim.

They had strolled ui- to the ol.I tide mill, and sat
watching the moon hi^rl, overhead, outlining its path
of silver sheen upon the rippled waters of tiie harbor,
while he, as usual, was giving utterance to some of
his delicately worded sayings.

" I do not understand," she said in response to
one more pointed than the rest, " why you think so
badly of womankind in the great world. Are they
all so selfish, and artful, and deceitful, as you say'?
I have seen some who came here in their beautiful
yachts, and they looked so nice in their white dresses,
and so sweet and gentle, I envied them."
Winn looked at her and smiled.
" I have no doubt, little girl, you admired and en-
vied them, and that they looia-d to you as beautiful
and charming as so many fairies. That was the
principal reason they came ashore — just to be seen
and admired by you people here, who, they knew,
never were, and, most likely, never would be, clnd as
they were. That is all these butterflies of fashion

'f 1

'1
»>1

188

BOOKHAVEN

live for — to show off their beautiful plumage and
be envied by others."

" Maybe you know them best," she responded re-
gretfully, as if sorry he had spoiled an illusion, " but
I thought them so beautiful and sweet and so like pic-
tures in books, it seemed to me they must be as de-
scribed there and never wicked or deceitful."

" And so you have been believing all you read in
books, have you, little one ? " he said, smiling again,
" and that those show birds who lit on the island
flew out of the pages of story books ? And yet, the
other day, when I told you about the nymphs and
elfins, you did not believe me, Mona 1 "

" I have never seen those creatures," she replied,
" and 1! have seen these."

" Neither have you seen Qod, or the Saviour,
or the angels," he said, " and yet you believe they
exist."

" I do," she answered firmly, " and I should go
crazy with fear if I didn't. But your wonderful
creatures, who lived so long ago, did not make this
world, as God did."

" People believed they did in those days," he re-
plied quietly, " and just as firmly as we believe God
did."

She made no answer, for the subject was beyond

m THE PATH OP ItOONMOHT

139

her, but silently watched the beauteous moonlight
picture before her.

" I should like to go into the great world," she
said at last, as if that fascinated her, "and wear
beautiful dresses and see those others wear, and hear
that wonderful woman you told about play the violin,
and watch them throw flowers at her. I should like
to be one with the rest just for a little while, and then
come back."

" If you did that you would never come back " he
answered, "or if you did you would be miserable
ever after."

"I should have to," she said, as anotl. r side of
the question presented itself to her, " if I couldn't
earn my living there."

" You would have to, surely," he answered slowly,
thinking of some phases of city existence, but aUow-
ing no hint of them to escape him, " It is foolish to
dream of these things, little girl," he continued, " for
they are impossible. Even if you had the means to
jom the great throng of city revellers, you would,
with your disposition, be wounded deep on aU sides'
The women would say spiteful things about you, and
scratch you every way they could, as is their nature;
and the men would fill your ears with subtle flattery
and each one spread before you the most insidiou^

■I*

'Mi

140

BOCSUATBir

net ever woven by mortal brain. No, little sister, be
content where you are, and if you are lonely, go to
the cave and listen to the whisper of the fairies.
They will never stab you to the heart, as the worldly
women will. You are like a wild rose now, and as
sweet and innocent. You say what you think and
mean what you say. Your heart is tender and true
and your thoughts pure and simple. You deceive no
one, and would not, if you could."

" But might I not learn to play as the wonderful
woman did," she asked stoutly, " and could I not earn
my own living if I did ? I need not know, nor care,
what these spiteful women said about me, need I ? "

Winn looked at her in surprise.

" And so this is the bee that has crept into the
heart of my wild rose, is it ? " he said. " You thirst
for fame and the laurel wreath, do you, Mona f I
thought I had come to know you well, little one," he
continued tenderly, " but this surprises me. Do you
know what it means, and that to win the world's ap-
plause you must study your art for years, and step
by step win your way up the ladder, and that already
ahead of you are hundreds who will miss no chance
to push you backwards ? And who will pay for all
the cost of tuition and training you must go through,
Mona!"

IN THE PATH OF MOONLIOJtT

-1

141

" Uncle Jess will," she answered simply, " if I
ask him. He loves me."

Winn was silent, conscions that beside him was a
creature as tender as a flower and as innocent, with a
wih to do and dare, or strive to do, what few women
wovld, and in her heart was an ambition that, like the
bee m the flower, would rob her of all life's sweetness.
"I am sorry." he said at last, " that you have this
ambition. It i creditable to you, but hopeless. Put
It out of your mind before it destroys your peace
Be your o.vn sweet self here on the island, and some
day you will learn to love one of its hardv sons, like
David Moore, perhaps, and he will make you a home
and strive for your happiness."

" I do not care fo- him, or any of the others," she
answered, " and never shall."

It was not the first time he had mentioned young
Moore to her, but never before in so serious a way
and it hurt.

"I am sorry," she continued, "that I told you
vrhat I have, but somehow I thought you understood
me better than any one else. It is all right, however,
and no doubt what you say is true."

He noticed there was a little quiver in her voice
and realized he had hurt her. He had, but not in'
the way he thought.

■',*I

142

HOOKIUTEH

For a long time they sat in silence, watching the
whitened ledges that bordered the island, the spectral
spruces that grew to the right of where they were,
the twinkling gleam of the lighthouse in the distance,
and the shimmering path of moonlight across the
harbor that ended at their feet.

" It's a beautiful night," said Winn at last, " and
I hate to leave this spot, but I think it's time you
were home."

And as he spoke he stooped, and, putting his hand
under her arm, lifted her to ber feet

As he did so, a single tear fell upon his hand.

CHAPTER XVIII

IW A FOO

Men are very much alike in this respect: if one
finds fortune or a path that seems to lead that way
all who suspect it will try to crowd in. The same
instmct may be seen among a flock of fowl, only we
do not pursue so openly. And so, when news of the
unexpected and early dividend on Rockhaven stock
circulated -as it was quick in doing - everybody
on the island who had a few dollars laid away made
haste to seek Winn, anxious to invest. The leaven
worked as that shrewd swindler, Weston, knew full
well it would, and had Winn's suspicions not been
aroused, and he too honest to take advantage of these
people, he might have sold five Hiousand shares, and
as the sequel proved, bankrupted the island. For
these hard-working people, though living in hovels
and wearing clothing a tramp would almost disdain
were frugal, and each and all had something saved
for a rainy day. The wisest had, from time to time
sent their savings ashore by Captain Roby to deposit
148

f 1

144

EOOKIIAVKN

in a savings bank ; others kept a few dollars hid in
bedticks or similarly secreted; but now, solely be-
cause Jess Hutton, the oraole of the island, was known
to have invested in this stock and received such fab-
ulous returns, all were anxious to follow his lead.
A little spice of envy crept in also at his good luck,
and Mrs. Moore, in chatting with a neighbor, voiced
it.

" It's alius the way," she said plaintively, " when
Jess bought that ledge o' stun from Qad Baker an'
gin him a hundred doUara for't, 'most everybody
thought he was a fool, and now 'long comes this city
man and gives him two thousand for't, an' on top o'
that Jess buys some o' this stock an' gets a hundred
dollars profit fust go-off. Here I've been cookin' an'
washin', year in an' year out, an' jist keepin' soul 'n'
body together, an' the boys spendin' every cent they
aimed — not thet I'm complainin' on them, only if
I had five hundred laid away I might put in as much
as Jess did. It don't seem right, that it don't ! How-
soever, it's the way o' the world, an' them as has,
gits."

Little did hard-working Widow Moore realize when
Dame Fortune was good to her !

But Winn was the most worried person on the isl-
and, and his burden the heavier to bear since he dared

nr A Foo

146

not hint hit. BiMpieiona to any one. To all who came
and almost begged him to take their savings in ex-
change for stock he made only one reply, " We have
no more to sell," and had there been a stock exchange
on the island, Rockhaven would have soared to twenty
dollars a share, so eager were those credulous people
to invest.

Then another incident of life began to interest
them, and, though Winn knew it not, his attentions
to Mona began to create gossip, more especially as he
was the actual and present representative of a rich
corporation. His walking to and from church with
her, the hours he had spent in her home, and more
than these, the summer evening strolU up to the old
tide mill, to linger and watch the moonlight on the
water, had all been noticed and commented upon
For these people, albeit they worked hard and lived
poorly, intuitively knew where Cupid hid himself
and how and when he shot his arrows. It was aU
nght, of course, and though other less fortunate maids
envied Mona, and many of the good mothers voiced
their congratulations to Mrs. Button, there was no
opposition to this summer idyl.

One thing Winn noticed, however, and that was the
pertinent fact that when he " dropped in " at Mona's
home, as he so often did, her mother usually found

146

BOOXIIATKN

some excuse to absent herself and leave the young
couple alone. Had he been desirous of wooing this
winsome maid nothing would have pleased him better,
but he hardly felt that way. It was true she in-
terested him, for what young man could resist her
sweet and tender ways, her patience with her mother's
implacable dislike of her violin playing and the
beautiful soul her truthful eyes bespoke! Then the
hours with her in the romantic spot in which she had
chosen to seek the goddess of music were more than
charming. In a way this trysting place began to
seem sacred to him, and the secret hours he had
passed with her there a tender bond between them.
All these sweet motive forces that move man's nature,
like so many little hands, began to entwine them-
selves in his. He had no thought of marrying. He
realized that ho had yet to carve his way upward
to independence before thinking of a home and wife,
and beyond that the lesson of distrust Ethel Sherman
had taught him still held sway. He was not a model
of discretion ; he was an unthinking young man with
the germs of fine honor and sturdy honesty latenL
within him, and in spite of the cynicism he had im-
bibed from Jack Nickerson he was sure in the end
to commit no folly, nor wrong man, woman, or
child.

nr A voo

147

And yet, insensibly, he was doing Mona Hutton
the greatest wrong in his power — almost

Some realizing sense of this came to him after that
evening beside the old tide mill, when his words had
caused a single tear to fall upon the hand that helped
her to arise, and yet he could not tell what he had
said that hurt her so.

There is, perhaps, nothing so fascinating in this
wide world to a young man as the first signs of a
sweet maid's budding love for him, and it must be
stated, nothing is harder to turn away from, and
Winn was no exception to young men in general.
And now that he was conscious of it, that fact,
coupled with the business dilemma confronting him,
created a double burden. lie saw whither lie was
drifting with her and seeing, had not the heart to
turn away. On the other hand, the Rockhaven
Granite Company began to seem a quagmire of fraud
in which he and all who had trusted in him might
any day become entangled, their investments swept
away, the men he had hired left without pay, and
he stranded on this island. It may seem that Winn
was borrowing needless worrimpnt, and yet once the
'ker spot of suspicion fastens itself upon a i\«n's
I. id, it grows until it turns all things greo».

One thing he tried to do — avoid Mom. Aiwt yet

^y\

148

BOOKHAVKir

he could not to any extent, for since she dwelt next
door he must needs meet her and speak almost daily.
And strange to ?ay, now tiiat it was in his heart to
act indifferent, her appealing eyes and winsome face
began to seem a reproach, and his conscience troubled
him. For a week he passed each evening alone in
his room trying to read one of the books he had
brought with him, or else in Jess Hutton's store, lis-
tening to the gossip of the men who gathered there,
interspersed with an occasional bit of quaint philoso-
phy from the lips of Jess I^imself, and then a bomb-
shell in the way of a letter to him reached the island.
It was as follows : —

" Deab Wunn,

" Have been back to the city now for two weeks
and watching the trend of the market I was sat-
isfied, as I wrote you, that Weston & Hill were pre-
paring to launch a skyrocket — now I know it.
What with printer's ink and that walking tombstone,
Simmons, they have managed to pret Rockhaven among
the unlisted but active stocks, and by some chicanery,
worked the price up to six dollars. Page, my broker,
says it's a wildcat of the most pronounced stripe. A
good many are short of it at below its present price
and yet it holds firm. I've unloaded half I bought, so

IN A FOO

149

I am on Easy Street, and am watching out. It maj
go up with a whoop or down with a thud. One guess
is as good as another, but what you best do is send
me your stock and let Page sell it. Also if you have
sold any to your friends, give them the tip. I know
you believe in Weston and think, as you have said,
that I am a perpetual scoffer. They may be all
right, but I don't telieve it, and now as you have a
chance to unload and make a good thing, better do it.
" Yours ever,

" Jack.

" P.S. — I forgot to mention that Ethel Sherman
is still up in the mountains and the belle of all occa-
sions. She asked a lot of questions about you and in
such a way I was almost tempted to believe they were
sincere. She has failed to land the golf dude, for his
mother scented danger and, like a hen, led him away
to safety."

'.p

CHAPTEB XIX

A FHILOSOFUBB

Wimat had felt it beat to keep silent regarding his
■u«piciong of Weston jc Ilill, but this new develop-
ment forced him to unbosom himself to some one and
he went to Jess. He waited until the usual even-
ing gathering of callers had left the store, and then
he told the story of his distrust from the beginning
and ended hy reading a portion of Jack's letter. To
his surprise Jess received it all aa unmoved as a
granite ledge.

" I ain't a mite s'rprised," he said, " I sorter felt
all 'long that this 'ere boss o' youm was a swindler
'n' foolin' ye, an' the only reason I took any stock
was jist to help ye."

" I know it," responded Winn, " and it's that and
because you have influenced others to do so, that
worries me."

But Jess only smiled.

" Keep cool," he said, " an' let yer hair grow. I
ain't in it so deep but I kin 'ford to lose all I've put
in 'n' take keer o' the rest on 'em here. What we

160

A PHII«aoFBK«

ISl

want to do n >w i« ter cao'ltte. When the wind geU
•qually, tlif fuht thing's to shorten sail. I'll 'low yer
frii^d knows his business, 'n' we'd best send this
dtock to him 'n' let him sell it if he kin find fools to
buy it at the price it's goin', an' then we'd best lay tlic
men oflF nt the quarry 'n' let 'em go flshin'. We
might keep two or three on 'em goin'," ho added us
an afterthought, " jist to keep up 'pearanccM n' lay
low till the wind shifts."

"It may be you are right," asserted Wiuti, " bnf
I do not know what to do and the situation worrx-a
me."

" No sorter use 'n worryin'," said Jess tersely,
" ye'r healthy, ain't ye ? "

And then Winn laughed. " Yes," he said, " I am,
and no worse off than when I came here, but it dis-
turbs me to find I've been deceived."

" You'll git used to that," replied Jess, " I hev. I
cac'late in my time I hev bed more'n a hundred
pounds o'wool pulled into myeyes 'n' I ain't blind yit.
The only cause I've bed fer blamin' myself is 'most
every time I got skinned it was 'cause I was too duiii
good-hearted."

" And that is just why I feel so bad," put in Winn ;
" you bought this stock to help me, and if you lose,
it's on me."

t.l

•1

'■ i

163

BOOXBAVXR

fin

Jem laughed heartily.

" Well, you're shakin' hands with the divil a good
wayB off." he said, " up to date I'm ahead o' the
game a cool hundred 'n' a middlin' good chance o'
gittin' more'n double my money back. I cac'late, of
course, this stock ain't wuth a cuss, but if by some
hocus-pocus they're sayin' it's wuth what your friend
says 'tis, I stand a fair chance o' gittin' square. Bet-
ter tell him he kin let it go fer a dollar 'n' not
hang on fer more. I'U be satisfied if I git my hat

back." ^ ^.

Then Jess, the big-hearted, thought of Winn.

" It's none o' my bizness," he said, "but ez you've

made free to trust me, how air ye fixed on this stock ?

Hev ye put much money into it 1 "

" I've put five hundred, part borrowed," answered

Winn candidly, " and they made me a present of

five hundred shares besides."

" Wal, that's 8 credit to ye, anyhow," responded
Jess with an approving look, " an' ye kin feel ye
come higher'n the parson." Then after a few min-
utes' silent meditation during which he closed his
eyes and stroked his chin affectionately, he added:
" As a gineral thing I'd be slow in advisin' anybody
to go crooked, but when ye feel ye're in the hands o'
sharpers, it's the only way. Now what I'd advise ye

I'lilf ii.i<i('|tKK.

A PHIL080PHXB

153

to do ii to keep on reportin' the tame pay-roll right
long V lay moat o' the men off fer a week or two
till ye find what yer friend's done with the atock.
What they send ye extra may come handy 'fore this
cat's skinned and buried. Then ye kin kinder take
it easy for a spell 'n' look the island over so kmg's yer
time 'n' wages is goin' on. Let 'em do the fiddlin'
while you dance this time. They cac'late ter make ye
do all the fiddlin' an' turn about is fair play."

" I'll take your advice and do just what you say,"
replied Winn eagerly, his spirito once more raised
to their normal level by this quaint philosopher, and
as it was late in the evening and the mention of
fiddle recalled Jess Button's hobby, he added: " You
have lifted a load off my mind, and now please give
me a few tunes, Mr. Button. I feel like hearing
some music."

And Jess the genial, to whom his fiddle was wife,
child, friend, and companion, once more drew it
forth, and as Winn lijthted a fresh oiitar and leaned
back to enjoy it, again as before was he charmed
by the old man's art.

And that spell wrought by " Money Mnsk," " Fish-
er's Hornpipe," « The Devil's Dream " and such old-
time dance tunes that followed in quick succession
carried Winn back to his boyhood days and out of

164

BOOKHAVaa

the turmoil and strife of city life, and onoe nunc
he felt himself in the old farm barn with lanterns
swinging aloft and a score of country lads and lassies
keeping step with him to the same lively measures.
He could see their happy faces and the sparkle of
their eyes as " balance and swing," " do-se^^-do " and
" all promenade " echoed from the rafters. He
could even feel the supple waist and warm handclasp
of the willing maid who danced with him, and when
the evening of simple but unalloyed delight was over,
came the long walk home with that same farmer's
daughter while the moonlight silvered the landscape
and the rustling leaves in the maple lane, tinkling
like tiny bells beneath their feet Gone were all
t'le hectic years of city life, the stab of Ethel Sher-
man, the distrust of Jack Nickerson, and the humilia-
tion of the years with Weston & Hill. Gone, too, all
his present dread and the fog that for weeks had
obscured his course. Once more be felt full of
young courage with success and riches almost within
his grasp. Then as the evening waned and Jess
Button's fingers strayed to the old sweet love songs
of Scotland and " Robin Adair " and " Annie
Laurie " whispered the burden of their affection, tlie
tender eyes of Mona and the wild rock-walled gorge
where he had first heard her play the same songs

A FIIII.OBOPIIIB

155

touched his heart. With this memory, bo sweet in a
way, came a heartache. \Vhen the evening was
ended and he, having thanked Jess for the good cheer
m words and music, betook himself to Rock Lane,
he paused a moment in front of Mona's home. Not
a light was visible, not a sound except the low mur-
mur of the distant sea. Only a few seconds he stood
there, looking and thinking, and then kept on to
his room.

The mood of the church bells waa with him stilL

■tfl

£1,

CHAPTER XX

A CLOUD OVER BOCKHAVBW

A MAN 18 happiest when he has most to do, and
though a woman's face intrudes upon his thoughts
and he feels her smiles are all for him, it is life and
action and the push forward toward success that in-
terest him most

And so with Winn. He had come to Rockhaven
to upbuild his fortune, believing himself in a fair
way to do so. He had taken up his new life and
care with earnestness and energy, putting his best
thought into it, and not only carrying out his em-
ployer's instructions in letter and spirit, but in addi-
tion trying to make friends of those honest islanders
and interest them in this new enterprise. The latter
was not hard since Jess, the orac'e of Rockhaven,
was on his side, and, in a way, sponsor for him.
Then, too, he had adopted their simple homely ways
and, though not a believer, attended church each
Sunday. How much nf this was due to the occult
influence of Mona's eyes, and how much to sympathy

A OLOUD OV«B BOCKUAVZM

157

and interest in the spiritual life of the island, is
hard to say. Most of the men considered Sunday
as a day of rest, and to some extent, recreation. A
few accompanied their families to the little church,
but more spent the day lounging about the wharves,
smoking and swapping yams, and if a boat needed
caulking, a net mending, or a new sail bending, they
did not hesitate to do it. While all had suflSciont
reverence for the Lord's Day not to actually start
out Ushing, most were willing to get ready. And
perhaps for good reason, for a livelihood on Rock-
haven was not easy to obtain and with them, as with
most hard-working people, tbe necessities of life
displaced spiritual inflaences.

" It is a hard field to labor in," aswrted the Rev.
Jason Bush to Winn cme day, " and I've grown old
and gray in the work. We have a little church that
has not been painted but twice since I came here forty-
odd years ago, or shingled but once. We have no
carpet, and the cushions in the pews are in rags. I
have taught this generation almost aU they know of
books, and laid most of their parents away in
the graveyard back of the meeting-house, and my
turn will come before many years. We are poor here,
and we always have been and most likely always shall
be, and at times it has seemed to me the Lord was

168

BOOKHAVIN

indi£Eerent to our needs. Your coming hei« aad
this new industry hiis seemed to me a speoikl provi-
dence."

And Winn, thinking of the fifty akare* of stock
he had given this poor old minister, and the ten dol-
lars dividend that must have scorned a godsend, f«lt
his heart sink, for ho had by this time come to
realize why he had been told l< donate this stock.
And perhaps that fact gave • ded force to tke par-
son's words.

And when, after Jess had advised him to )i^ off
some of the men and he had done so, h sort v^f gloom
seemed to spread over the island. A few of the men
took to their boats and fishing onco more, and though
Winn gave out the plausible excuse that lack of de-
mand for granite was the cause, the rest who were
out of work now seemed a constant reproach.

Then, too, since his own ambition and hope re-
ceived a setback he was not content. The growing
distrust was a thorn in his side, in fact it was more
than that ; it was almost a certainty that his mission
thei-c was nearin^; ita end. To leave, he could not;
to go ahead, he dared not, for any day he might be
left in the lurch with no money to pay his men. And
Friday, when he usually received his remittances,
was awaited with keen anxiety. When it came and

▲ CLOUD OVn ■OCXIIAVKN

169

« letter, slightly fault-finding in tone because he had
sold no more stock for some weeks, and insisting that
he must go about it at once, Winn was not only irri-
tated but disgusted.

" I am but a mere tool in their hands," he thought,
" and they pay me to do their bidding, be it work or
to rob honest people." And then Winn had a bad
half -hour.

" Don't ye mind 'em," said Jess consolingly, when
Winn had told him what th?; wrote, " but keep cheer-
ful 'n' let 'em keep on scndin' money. It's a long
lane ez hex no turns 'n' ours'U come bimeby. Better
write yer friend 'n' git posted on wliat's doin'."

But this excellent advice had scant eflFect on
Winn, for his ambition had been chilled, his hopes
seemed like to be thwarted, his mental sun in a cloud,
and the barometer of his spirits at low tide. Then
tlie honest people here who had trusted him implicitly
and who could ill afford to lose became a burden to
his mind. Honest himself in every impulse, to
roaiize that in the near future he might be cursed as
a rascal only added to hia gloom. He dreaded to meet
them lest they read the worriiiicnt in hia face, and
especially the patient and hard-working Mrs. Moore,
who daily prepared his meals. To her the hundred
dollars she had invested was a small fortune, and then

160

BOCKHATXH

the kindly old milliliter whoae long life of patient
work for starvation pay had made him pathetic, and
who had considered this gift as coming from the hand
of God — to feel that ho also might join the rest in
sorrowing hurt Winn. He dared not say a word to
any one except Jess, and what to do he knew not. At
times he thought of going to them, one and all, ex-
plain the situation, and ask them to intrust him with
their stock, when he would send it to the city to be
sold if possible. He even confided this impulse to
Jesa.

" No," replied that philosopher, " it ain't my idee
to cross bridges till ye come to 'em, 'n' we'd best
wait till we see which way the cat's goin' to jump.
If wuss comes to wiiss, an' 'fore I'd see ye blamed,
I'll stand the loss o' every share ye've sold here."

This was some consolation to Winn, but did not
remove his gloom.

Then Mona became a factor in his perplexity.
He had tried to avoid her to a certain extent, but
he could not avoid his thoughts, and deep in his heart
he knew that whatever bond of sympathy had come
between them was due to his own seeking. He had
praised her playing, passed hours in delightful ex-
change of poetic thoughts and re.ntal of old-time lore,
patlietic, romantic, and altogether alluring, and this

A CLODD OVKB ROrKIIAVBIf

161

thrusting liii ix-rsonnlity, >.» it were, into the thoiighU
■nd Ijfo of tliis untutored islun.i girl could have hut
one ending, and full well Win., knew what that
wa«.

The next Sunday chance threw them together, for
Winn, to L.scai)c his ituhd, if iwggil.l,., had taken a
long stroll over the island and up to the north village.
Returning late in tli,. afternoon, he found her sitting
by the old mill watching the tide slowly ebbing be-
tween its nmssel-coatcNl fo.mdationa. It was a spot
romantic in its iHolation, out of sight from any dwell-
ing and, in addition, of so.iiewhat jthostly interest.
Winn had heard its history. It hi..l Wn built a cen-
tury ago and made usef.il for the island's needs, but
finally it fell into disuse an. I dway, its roof gone,
ite timbers and floor removed, its wi.idows b.it gap-
ing openings in the stoi... walls and akin to the lyeless
sockeU and mouth of a skt.ll. Then, too, the half-
demented girl who years hefor.. had l)een found hang-
ing lifeless from one of its cross Ix-ains added an un-
canny touch. Winn ha.l felt its grewsomc interest
and once or twice had visited it with Mona. And
now, coming to it just as the lowering sun had
reached the line of spnico trees fringing the western
side of the harlmr, he foun.i Mona sitting where
they had sat one moonlight evening, idly watching the

MICtOCOfY RESOLUTION TEST CHART

(ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

^ /APPLIED IIVHGE In

^^. 1653 Eait Main Street

=^ Pochester, Ne* York 146C9 USA

'.as (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone

^S ("6) 288 - 5989 - Fa«

'111!

168

SOCKHATEN

motionless harbor stretching a mile away. She was
not aware of hia approach, but sat leaning against an
abutting stone, looking at the setting sun's red glow on
the harbor, a lonely, pathetic figure.

For a moment Winn watched her, and watching
there beside this uncanny old ruin, lived the past two
months over again like a momentary dream, and then
drew nearer.

"Why, Mona," he said, "what are you doing
here?"

" Nothing," she answered, straightening up and
turning to face him, " only I did not know what else
to do, and so came here." She did not disclose the
impulse which brought her to this spot, for of that
no man, certainly not Winn, should be told.

" Well," he continued, with assumed cheerfulness,
" I'm glad to have come across you, for I too have been
lonesome and trying to walk it off. I've had the blues
for a week or more now," he added, feeling that some
sort of apology was due her, " and am not myself."

" And why ? " she asked interestedly, turning her
fathomless eyes upon him ; " are you getting tired of
us here, and wanting to go back to the city ? "

" No, little girl," he replied, assuming his usual
big-brother's tone and address, " I hate the city, as
I've told you many times ; but business matters vex

A CLOUD OVEB BOOKHAVEH

163

me, and as you may have heard, I've had to lay o£F
some of my men."

" Yes, I have heard," she answered quietly, her
eyes still on him, " nothing happens here that all do
not know in a few hours."

And Winn, with the burden of dread that like a
pall oppressed him just then, wondered how long it
would take for all to hear what he or Jess could utter
in five words.

" Why did you come here, Mona, if you were lone-
some ? " he said, anxious to change the subject. " It's
the last spot on the island you should visit if
lonely."

Mona colored slightly; "I always go to some
lonely spot when I feel sad," she said, unwilling to
admit the real reason for her coming here.

" And that is where you are wrong," put in Winn,
forcing a laugh and seating himself beside her.
" When I am blue I go to Jess or else take a tramp
as I did to-day," he added hastily.

Mona still watched him furtively and with an in-
tuitive feeling that he was concealing something. " I
wish I knew how to play the violin," he continued,
looking across the harbor to where a dory had just
started toward the village, " it must be, as your uncle
says, ' a heap o' comfort ' when one is lonesome."

164

KOCKHAVEN

r ' it

" It has been to him all his life long," she answered
a little sadly, " and is now."

"Ai.-! to you as well," he interposed, "it has
helped you pass many a long hour, I fancy. Do you
know," he continued, anxious to talk about anything
except his present mood, " I've thought so many times
of that day I first heard you playing in the ' Devil's
Oven,' and what a strange place it was to hide
yourself in. You arc a queer girl, Mona, and unlike
any one I ever knew. I wish I were an artist, I'd like
to make a picture of you in that cave."

Mona looked pleased.

" You would make a picture," he added, smiling
at her, " that the whole world would look at with in-
terest ; I'd have you holding your violin and looking
out over the wide ocean with those sphinx-like eyes
of yours, just as if the world and all its follies had no
interest for you."

" And what is a sphinx ? '' asked Mona.

" A woman that no man understands," he answered
carelessly. " There are a few such, and they are the
only ones who interest men any length of time."

"And am I like one of them?" queried the
girl.

" Oh, no," he answered, " except your eyes, and
they are absolutely unreadable. Beyond them you

A CLOUD OVER ROOKIIAVEN

165

are as easily understood as a flower that only needs
the sun's smiles."

It was a bit of his poetic imagery faintly under-
stood by Mona. " You must not mind my odd com-
parison," he continued, noticing her curious look,
" it's only a fancy of mine, and then, you are an odd
stick, as they used to say up in the country where
I was born."

" And so yo>i were not bom in the city," she said
with sudden interest. " What Uncle Jess has told
me and what you have said has made me hate the
city."

" I thought you said once you envied the city girls
who came here in yaelits," laughed Winn.

" I might like to dress as they do," she answered,
a little confused, "but not to live where they
do."

"And what has that to do w'th where I came
from," he persisted, " and why are "ou glad I am
country-born ? "

" Because," she renlied bluntly, " Uncle Jess says
country-born people are usually honest and can be
trusted."

Winn was silent, and as he looked at this simple
island girl, so unafFoeted and vnnsome, a new ad-
miration came for her. " Give her a chance " he

166

BOCEUATEN

Iff

If I

thought, " and she would hold her own with Ethel
Sherman even."

" That is true," he said aloud, after a pause, think-
ing only of his own business experience, " and the
longer I remain here, the less I wish to return to
the city. I feel as your worthy uncle does, and for
good reasons. With the exception of an aunt, who
has made a home for me, the wome- hom I met
there were not to be trusted, nor the men either.
When I left the old farm I was too young to under-
stand people, but now that I do, I often long for the
old associates of my boyhood, and if my business here
becomes successful, I shall never go back to the city."

A look of gladness lit up the girl's face.

"I feel vexed over my business," continued
Winn, longing to confide his troubles to Mona and
looking down into the dark mussel-coated chasm left
by the ebbing tide close by where they sat, " but I
presume I shall come out all right."

Then, as he glanced up at the roofless wall of the
old mill just back of them, its window openings show-
ing the dark interior, he thought of the girl who, a
century ago, bad come there to end her heartache and
whose story \7as fresh in his mind.

" Come, Mona," he said tenderly, as a sigh escaped
him, " it's time we returned to the village, for I am

(

A CLOUD OVER ROCKUATEIf

167

going to meeting to-night with you and your mother."
And all the long mile of sandy roadway that lay be-
tween the mill and Koc'diaven was traversed in almost
unbroken silence.

Though far apart as yet, they were nearer to one
another than ever before.

■:ii

I i

CHAPTER XXI

THB MOOD OP THE BELLS

There were two clmreh bells on Rockhnven, one at
each village, and every Sunday evening, year in and
out, they called the piously inclined together, always
at the same time. That at Northaven sounded the
sweeter to Winn, since its pall came over a mile of
still water, like an echo to the one in Rockhaven. He
had noticed them, one answering the other, many
times before, each time to return in thought to the
hillside home where he was born and to the same
sweet sound that came on Sunday from the village
two miles away. It had been to him what seemed
long years since he heard them, yet now, this evening,
while he waited in the little porch of Mona's home
for her and her mother to join him churchward, and
this call came sweetly through the still evening air,
it carried a new peace to his vexed spirit, and the
threatened upset of his mission to Rockhaven faded
away. Once more he was a boy again, and for a time
without a care.

168

THE MOOD OF THE BELLS

1«9

And when Mona appeared, dressed in a simple
white muslin, a white hood of knitted wool half hid-
ing the uoiled masses of her jet black iuiir, her eyes
filled with tender light, Winn, in spite if his iiiorose-
ness and the bitter lessons in love he had learned, felt
it a proud privilege to walk beside her.

The usual number, mostly womankind, were
emerging from the scattered houses along the way to
the church, and as Winn and Mona, together with her
mother and Mrs. Moore, followed the one pknk walk
which led to the church, the last call of the bells came
at longer intervals.

When the church was reached the lamps had been
lighted, but the white headstones, dotting the upward
slope just back of it, still showed faintly in the twi-
light.

The services were simple as usual, the few dozen
who gathered all joined in the same hymns of praise
their ancestors had sung in the same church. What
the minister sa d was not new or eloquent ; and yet
the prayer he uttered seemed to Winn to contain an
unusually touching strain. It was the mood of the
bells still on him, for he had never known what
church believers call a change of heart; and while
the devotions of the people were pathetic in their very
simplicity, they seemed more like a plea for pity than

•( .

':^ll

■iu

1?0

BOCKHAVEt

an expression of thanks. When the serviccg were
ended, and all rising joined in " The Sweet By and
By," never before had it voiced such a plaintive ap-
peal ng it did then in Winn's cHtiinat' m.

When ho and Mona, loitering behind the rest,
reached her little dooryard where the scent of many
blooming flowers saluted him, they paused a moment.
Mrs. ;Moore had seated herself on the porch for a so-
cial chat with Mrs. Hntton, the faint disk of a now
moon showed in the western sky, and in spite of the
resolution taken weeks before, Winn cl ild not resist
the temptation of longer privacy with his com-
panion.

" Let us walk up to the top of Norse Hill," he said,
"and look out over the harbor. I feel like it to-
night."

" Here is where I come to be alone," he observed
when they had reached the ancient beacon and were
looking down over the village. " I wonder who built
this odd tower and for what use ; do you know ? "

" I have been told it was built by Leif Ericson,"
she replied, " ever so many years ago, to orove he first
discovered this country. TTncle Jess says it wat, and
that is why this is called JfoPise Hill."

There was a jutting ledge around its base, and
they seated themselves upon it. Winn drew out his

THE MOOD or THE BilLLS

171

I- * case. "You won't mind my smoking, will
J .., .lonn ? " ho aaid in a familiar tone, aa he lightetl
his cigar.

" Why, no." she answered, in the »: no tone, " I
love to see you mjoy yourself."

For a time they silently scanned the peaceful pic-
ture that lay before them. The sheltered harbor
across which the faint path of moonlight quivered ia
the undulating ground swell that reached in from the
sea ; the old mill sombre and solemn and barely out-
lined to the right ; beyond it Northaven with its scat-
tered lights, and below them the few that twinkled in
Eockhaven. Not a wund reached them except the
low wave-wash at the foot of the cliff jist back of
where they sat. They were alone witL tieir hopes
and troubles, their joys and heartaches. It was not
a time or place for im.nediate converse, and Winn
quietly contemplated the peaceful scene while Mona
covei.ly watched him. To her he was an unsolved
enigma, "jnd yet his earnest, honest brown eyes, his
open, frank way, 8nd his half-tender, half-cynical
speeches had been for many weeks her daily thought
Wliat oppressad him now was an added mystery.
She had heard that most of his men working in the
quarry had been laid off, but not for worlds would
she seem so inquisitive as to ask wh;

172

ROCKIIAVEN

f' \

V' i

ir''i. t

And 80 she watched him, hnlf hopinf;, half expect-
iiip, ho wouhl confide in her.

" I liave iK'en out of sorta, little girl," he said sud-
denly, with an intuitive feelinj? that she exjiccted an
ex])lanation of his silence; " and as I told you this
afternoon I took a long tramp to drive my mood
away. It did not do it, hut aonicthing else has, and
that was your church l)ell«."

" I am very glad," she responded with sudden in-
terest, " I wish they would ring every evening."

" Yes," he continued, not heeding her delicate sym-
pathy, " they have carried uie hack to my boyhood and
the country village near where I was born. I wish I
could go back to those days and feel as I did then''
he added, a little sadly, " but one can't. Life and its
ambitions sweep us on, and youth is forgotten or re-
turns only in thought. If one could only feel the
keen zest of youth and enj jy small pleasures as chil-
dren do, all through life, it would be worth living. I
should be grateful if I were as happy and care-free
as you are, Mona."

" I am not very happy," she answered simply.
"Did you think I was?"

" You ought to be," he asserted ; " you have noth-
ing to worry about unless it is your ambition to be-
come £ great artist, and as I have told you, you had

TIIX MOOD OF THE UELLM

173

better put that out of your tlioii^li'S. Voii couli. bo,
but it would l)rinjt yo\i inon- licnrtiiclu's tli.,ii you can
imaginp. Put it nwuy, ^[onn, and live your siuiplo
life here. To Htrupple out of your orbit is to court
unhappiness. I was tiir\i8t out of mine by death and
poverty," lie niKlcd sadly, " wlicn an awkward ind
green country boy, knowing alisohitcly nolliinj; of
city ways and manners, and placrd anion^ tliiiae who
think all who come from the farms ii! i it be but half
civilized and stupid. It is the shallc w conceit of
city-bred people always and the greatest mistake
they nmke. My aunt sent me to a business college,
and for a year my life there was a burden. The otb r
fellows made game of my clothes, my opinions, a ,
worse than that, a jest of all the moral ideas in which
my good mother had instructed me. Later on, when
I began to get out into the world, I found the same
disposition to sneer at all that is pure and good in
life. The young men I became acquainted with
called me a goody-good because I acted according to
conscience and refused to drink or gamble. They
seemed to take a pride in their ability to pour (lo\vn
glass after glass of fiery liquor, and when I asserted
that to visit gambling dens and all otlicr resorts of
vice was to demean one's self, and positively refused
to follow them, they laughed me to scorn. They

174

BOCKHAVBN

seemed to take a pride in their vices in a way that
was disgusting to me. Then, as if to prove what a
stupid greenhorn I was, they pointed out men who
stood well socially, attended church, had wives and
families, and yet led lives that were a shame and
disgrace in my estimation. They proved to me what
they asserted in various ways, so I could not doubt it.
It was all a revelation, and for a time upset all my
ideas and led me to think my early training in the
way I should walk a stupid waste of opportunity.

" Beyond that, and perhaps the worst of all, I was
made to think that religious belief was arrant non-
sense and used as a cloak for evil doings ; that none
except silly old women and equally silly young girls
were sincere in pious professions ; that belief in God
was an index to shallowness, and prayer a farce.

" It began to seem to me that I really had been
brought up wrong and trained in absurd ways, and
that unless I threw my moral scruples to the winds, I
should be a jest and a laughing-stock to all city
people. We grow to feel, and think, and live like
those we meet dai , ind when I came here, among
you wliose lives and morals were so unlike city folks
and so like those of the people among whom I was
reared, it seemed as if I had gone back to my boy-
hood home.

ill

THE MOOD OF TU£ BELLS

176

" I think the sound of your church belle, Mona,
was an influence more potent than all else to carry my
thoughts and feelings home again."

He paused a moment to look out seaward and along
the broadening path of moonlight as if it led into a
new life and a new world, while Mona watched his
half-averted face. All this was a revelation to her of
his inner self, his nature and impulses. She had
thought tenderly of him before ; now he seemed the
embodiment of all that was good and true and manly
— a hero she must fain worship.

" Life is a puzzle-board, dear," he said at last, as
if tliat sparkling roadway had been followed into a
better one ; " we all strive for happiness in it and
know not where or how it may be found. We wish to
please oursel'^es first, and to share it with those who
seem akin to us. Few really desire to annoy others
or give them pain. Then again we are selfish, and
our own needs and hungers seem all important. We
are a little vain ofttimes, carnal always, unthinking,
and seldom generous. We forget that it is more
blessed to give than to receive, that a clear conscience
is as necessary to happiness as good digestion is to
health, and that we cannot walk alone through life.
We must depend upon others for about all the happi-
ness we receive, and they on us. Then again we had

176

BOCKHAVEW

I) :

best remain with those we understand and who know
US best. They and they only can or will seem near
to us. Your bells have carried me back to those with
whom I am allied by nature; and among them and
in the pure and simple life they live, I feel that peace
and contentment may be found. With you it is the
same, my dear, and it is to keep you here among
those akin to you that I say what I have of the great
world. Do not wish to enter it ; do not imagine you
will find happiness there, for you cannot Here you
are loved and tmderstood, here are those you know
and can trust, and here every cliff, and gorge, and
grove, every flower, and bird, and ocean voice,
contains a childish memory. Were you to leave
them behind every call of the church bells at
eventide would carry your heart back to these
scenes again, as it has mine to those of mv
youth. No, dear, be warned in time and remain
content."

He meant it for her good, but she thought only of
a similar bit of advice he had given her once before,
and one that wounded her to the heart.

For a little longer they sat and watched the moon-
light scene ; Winn unconscious that beside him was a
girl whose ennobling ambition and sweet, patient na-
ture was a prize any man might feel proud to win,

THE MOOD OF THE BELLS

177

and Mona quivering with an unaccountable heart-
ache ; and then he rose to go.

" It is getting lat«, dear," he said in his familiar
way, " and we'd best go home. You may catch cold
if we stay here longer."

And Cupid, hovering on the old stone tower, turned
away in sorrow for a wasted opportunity.

But Winn held out his hand to assist Mona, and be
it said to his credit, he retained hers in a warm clasp
until her gate was reached.

" Qood night, dear," he said then as he opened it
for her to enter, " and sweet dreams."

(«1

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CHAPTER XXII

TWO BASOALS

Tk£BE are genial, liberal, and companionable ras-
cals and mean, contemptible, sneaking ones. The
former attract by their apparent honesty and cordial
expressions, and are the more dangerous; the latter
repel by every look, act, and word. Of the first class
J. Malcolm Weston was a pertinent example, while
Carlos B. Hill was of the latter.

On " the street " and among his associates Weston
was considered a jovial, good-natured man, liberal
in small things, a pleasant associate, but lacking in
morality and without principle. He paid for one of
the best pews in the church Winn's aunt attended,
which was always occupied by his wife and family,
and by him occasionally; he contributed for chari-
table and missionary work in an ostentatious way,
always insisting that it be known how much he
gave; belonged to a club where gambling was the
chief amusement and the members of which .i-e
mostly stock brokers, speculators, and fast men about
178

TWO BASOAU

ir9

town; he wore the latest and most fashionable
raiment, and drove a dashing turnout. Before the
firm of Weston & Hill had been established he had
been the manager of what is known as a bucket shop,
and when that failed (as they always do, soon or
late) he began his career as a promoter. In this he
was not over-successful, mainly from lack of funds
to carry out his schemes; but when the conceited,
shallow-minded HiU was induced to walk into his par-
lor, Weston began to soar. Hill was a retired man-
ufacturer and bigoted church member who had saved
a smaU fortune by miserly living, stealing trade
marks, copying designs, making cheap imitations of
other manufacturers' goods, and cutting prices. He
thirsted for fame as a great financier and longed to be
a power in the stock market. Weston, whose business
arguments usually contained equal parts of religion
and possible profit-making, in due proportion to the
credulity and piety of his victims, and who could
t-me a horse race, play a game of poker, or utter a
fervid exhortation with equal facility, easily led Hill
into the investment and brokerage business, and ? o the
firm was established.

This was J. Malcolm Weston.
Of Hill, though his counterpart exists, but not in
plenty, an explicit description shall be given. He was

{;ti

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180

BOOKHATEN

I-

of medium size with a sharp hawklike nose, retreating
forehead, deep-set fishy eyes, ears that stood out like
small wings, and a handclasp as cold and lifeless as a
pump-handle. His sole object of conversation was
himself ; he had pinched pennies, denied himself all
luxuiies, and lived to be hated, till he gi'ew rich. It
was one of his kind of whom the story is told chnt,
having died rich (as usual), a stranger passing the
church on the day of the funeral asked of the sexton
at the door, " What complaint ? " and received the
reply, " None whatever ; everybody satisfied."

Weston, liberal rascal that he was, was not long
in learning to hate his mean-natured partner, and by
the time the Rockhaven Granite Company was duly
organized and well on toward success, had conceived
another and perhaps more excusable swindle (if any
swindle is excusable), it being not only to rob the in-
vestors in Rockhaven, but Hill as well, and then leave
for a foreign clime. But the launching of Rockhaven
necessitated outlay. HiU really held the purse-
strings, so Weston, the plausible, shrewd schemer,
bided his time. But the road to success became difiS-
cult. Each successive outlay was whined about and
opposed by Hill, who, shallow in his conceit, lacked
the courage of his rascality. When Winn was sent to
Rockhaven, and money to pay men must follow, and

TWO RASCALS

181

each successive item and advertisement in the Mar-
ket News (both high-priced) only made him wince
the more, it required all of Weston's optimistic argu-
ments to keep him from backing out. But when re-
turns fro, - the sale of this absolutely worthless stock
came in, Hill smiled, and when some thirty thousand
shares had been sold and, by reason of Simmons' ma-
nipulation, it was quoted on 'change at six dollars per
share, his eyes glittered like those of a hungry shark.
No thought of the honest and confiding men and
women who had contributed to swell the total, and
would share in the inevitable loss, came to him. No
qualms of conscience, no sense of r lilt, no fear of retri-
bution ! only the miser's lust of gain and the swellin-r
of his abnormal self-esteem. And so gratified was he
in this partial success, and so eager to pocket its re-
sults, that, had Weston now proposed dividing receipts
and absconding, he would have consented with alacrity.
Of those who were to be the dupes of this precious
pair a word will now be said. They comprised a
varied list, from poorly paid clerks who had caujjht
the gambling fever to Winn's aunt who, since she
believed in Weston, and being baited on by the decep-
tive dividend, had invested almost her entire fortune.
There was one cashier in a bank who had " utilized '"
about three of the many thousands he had access to.

f'i
I;.

! 'it

182

BOCKHATIN

an innocent and vmderpaid stenographer in Weston
& Hill's office who persuaded her widowed mother
to draw her all from the savings bank and buy Rock-
haven, and scores of small investors, trustees for
estates; and even sane business men, lured by the
early and unexpected dividend and anxious to share
in the rapid advance, bought, what they at heart
feared was worthless. And so the bubble grew apace,
and Weston and iiis henchman, Simmons, in the
privacy of their odoes, smiled and congratulated one
another, and plotted and planned. They discussed
the items to be paid for in the Market News, how
long it would be necessary to continue the farce of
quarrying ci'ried on by Winn, and how much stock
was really being tossed back and forth among the
gamblers on 'change, and how much held by honest
investors. Of the quarried stone shipped by Winn,
enough had been received to build the palatial resi-
dence Simmons had under way and some toward an-
other and smaller contract, taken at a price below
market rates. To these consultations Hill was seldom
invited, for the liest of reasons, — he wae in the end
to be made the dupe of all. Of this latter and final
iniquity not even Simmons was informed.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE BTABTIRO OF A " COBNEK "

TiEEE are always two parties in every stock ex-
change, well known as bulls and bears. Those who
believe in an advance, or what is to the same end,
manipulate a stock to increase its price, are said to be
" bulling it " ; while those who honestly think it
quoted aV.ve its worth and sell it, or plot to depress
its price, are said to " bear it." Like the ever vary-
ing hues of the kaleidoscope, so the opinions and
actior.a of each individual among those men con-
stantly change, and a bull to-day may be a bear to-
mon-ow. Then cliques and pools take up one little
joker of values, and seek by force of number and
capital to toss it up or down. To this end they fill
the press with columns of false reports, fictitious
statements, and items of apparent news for one pur-
pose—to deceive. Wlien the wildcat, Rockhaven,
started on its career, the bulls and bears, glad of a
fresh toy, began to .oss it back and forth. None be-
lieved it of any actual value, but merely one of the
183

184

BOCKIIAVKN

many dice in the apeculative box. All united in
asserting that it was the avant courier of a achome;
it might be pushed up to a fabulous price and it
might any day go down with a crash. It was this
very certainty of being an uncertuinty — the fact
that its future was an open gamble, a positive chance
— that made it interesting. None of these astute
8i)cculator8 were deceived by the early dividend, even
for one moment; and when Simmons, well known
as Weston's mouthpiece, openly bid two dollars for
five thousand shares or any part of it, and really ob-
tained one hundred, and that the identical hundred
originally given a prominent mun for the use of his
name, all knew that the fresh toy was on its way
toward the roof or the cellar. It may seem strange
after the countless schnmes which have come to
naught, that any remain who could be inveigled into
8 new one, but as a Tise showman once said, " the
world loves to be humbugged," and the early dividend
worked its inevitable result among the real investors,
while the gamblers' chance stimulated " the street " ;
and between the two Rockhaven was pushed upward.
And the Market News, as well as other city papers
anxious to sell space, helped to swell the bubble until
Rockhaven became one of the loaded dice all specu-
lators love to play with. It started at two dollars a

I If

TUB BTABTINO OF A " COKNKB '

185

Bharo, bid by SimmoM, who tho next day offered three
for it and liad two hundred more sold him by a too-
confident bear who didn't own a gliarc, and who later
on bought it in at a higher price, pocketii^ nig loss
with a smile. And so it kept on, now up a point
and back a half, then up two and down one, to go
back again when wmo nervous bear sought to cover.
Some who owned it at the subscription price of one
dollar sold, and quadrupled their money, to gee it
go still higher, and catching the fever, bought it in
again ; while others who were short of it ai. three, bid
it in at five, and distrustful of it as ever, went short
again, and so the definite stock value in this cage, as
in all others, becnme a guess.

In the meantime Weston, the spider in his web,
and Simmons, his trusty spokesman, watched the mar-
ket and weie not idle. They had sold some thirty
thousand shares, the Market News kept printing items
(at a cost of fifty cents per word), the street was all
guessing, and Rockhaven bade fair to become a sen-
sation " on 'change."

Then a few far-seeing bulls, believing the natural
sequence of stock manipulation in this case would
end in a " comer," began bidding it up, while Sim-
mons, quick to feel the pulse of the situation and
really holding the key to it, aided them by spreading

186

•OCXRATSH

a report to thai efFeot, and when the prioo ihowed
weakneM, buying a few hundred. As moat of " the
atreet" assorted that the stock was valueless, hii
object was to create a short interest, if possible, and
in time so manipulate matters as to scare the shorts,
knowing full well what the result would be.

The only danger he knew lay in tSe action of
Winn liar v and what he might do. If that duped
young mai. imted the game and, returning, alarmed
his aunt, who Iiad bought ten thousand shares and
locked them up, the game would be balked.

" We must keep your m^n Hardy on the island
all summer," he said to Weston, " and let him quarry
stone, at whatevor cost. If ever he hears what Rock-
havon is quotod at and isn't a fool, he will hurry back
and not only nrload his thousand shares, but toll his
aup*, and she will do the same."

" I doubt that he will," answered Weston ; " he
has fo.v friends in the city, and those are not posted
on the market, and as for his aunt, I have assured her
that if she hopes to sell out her stock at the top price,
she must keep her investment an absolute secret. I
gave her the tip ' >n Sunday as we were walking home
from church together, and in such a way that I feel
sure she will heed it. The good woman is wrapped
up in church work and putting the matter in the

TUB »TA«TINO 0» A " COBNIB '

187

way I did, and at that time, insures her secrecy.
Some people must be handled with religious gloves,"
he added, smiling urbanely, « and some hit with a
club." He thought of Hill in this connection.

And in the case of Winn Hardy, he reckoned with-
out Jack Nickerson.

CHAPTER XXIV

THX PBOOBF8S OF A

■■w

These are honest and honorable stock brokers,
and Page, a f ;nd of Niekerson's and acting broker
for him, was one of them He knew Simmons well,
and had at one time or another come in sharp conflict
with the latter in some stock deal. He had watched
the bubble, Rockhaven, ever since its inception, and
accustomed as he was to the endless variety of tricks
resorted to by others of his class, had an intuitive
conception of how the general partneri"hip of Weston
& Hill and Simmons would be carried to its culmi-
nation.

" It's a swindle, pure and simple," he said in con-
fidence to Nickerson, " and while Weston is willing
to dupe the confiding investors he has persuaded to
buy the stock, the real end and aim of his scheme is
to get the street short of it and, by some sort of scare,
start the bears to bidding against each other, and
when the right time comes Simmons will appear on
the scene and unload Rockhaven at top price. How

i''

THE PKOORESS OF A COBNEE

189

soon that time will come and how far up they will
push the stock before the shorts take fright, is a
guess. It is now steady at six and not much interest
in it. Then again it's an open question how much
stock is owned on the street and how great a short in-
terest has been created. No one has any confidence
in it, and yet many are ready to take a flyer in it for
a turn. My idea is to handle it as one would a hot
horseshoe. I am long a thousand or two, you are
ditto for five hundred, and we hold fifteen hundred
in trust for your friend Hardy and this islander,
Hutton. Whether to unload now and make four
points or hold for a big stake, is the question. It's a
gamble either way."

And this, be it said, fairly represented the situa-
tion.

But Simmons, who really held the key to this well-
set trap, knew very well that he had the street all
guessing, and more than that, was just the man to
keep them at it. He sold and he bought a little stock
each day, just to keep it active and quoted. He
could have bought every share on the street if neces-
sary, but that was not his game. What he did want
was to aid the bull pool that had been formed, for
every share they bought meant one more short of
that share, and when the time came, one more scared

190

BOCKHAVEN

i I

bear to bid it up. It was an unscrupulous scheme,
but one continually being worked in one way or an-
other by these legalized gamblers.

Then, as if the devil came to Simmons's aid, Rook-
haven began to be quoted in the bucket shops, and
the crowd there, as usual, were all bulls. It is a
strange fact, but true, that every lamb who goes into
one of these wool-shearing offices is always sure to
buy, expecting an advance. With him, stocks are
bound to advance — never go down. If iliey do, he
feels it's only for the time being, and they must go
up again, and so he foolishly puts up more margins,
and still more, and the crafty thief who manages
this robber's den assures him he is right; they are
bound to go up, and in privacy smiles at the inno-
cence of his victim. And so the shearing goes on.

In this case it helped the arch-plotter, Simmons,
and his backer, Weston, for as the stock held firm,
those who were short of it at two, three, and four,
had no chance to cover. Then as it began to creep up
a little, to even up their shortage they sold still
more, and every few days a paid item in the Market
News helped matters on. What they were need not
be stated. They were all to the same purpose, and
that to create confidence in Bookhaven, and as usual
every bear on the street discounted these statements

^r^

THE PROGRESS OF A CORNER

191

and felt more certain that Rockhavena were without
substantial value.

And they were right.

Meanwhile Weston, the great financier, as he now
felt himself to be, rubbed his hands with satisfaction
and concocted more news items ; and Simmons hob-
nobbed with the street, assuring one and all of the
other speculative liars what a safe investment Rock-
havens were, and how sure to advance.

" We have not s- d much stock and do not care to,"
he said, " we know a good thing w'.ien we see it, and
in this quarry we have a certain money-maker. It
costs us a mere nothing to quarry the stone, the mar-
ket absorbs all our product at a good price, and the
ledge we own is limitless. Then we have an excellent
manager in whom the firm trusts implicitly."

He always used " we " in speaking of the stock,
that pronoun carrying a certain assurance, as he
well knew, for Simmons, who had grown old and
gray on the street, was a shrewd money-maker and
well known to be worth a million or morp

But while Weston was happy in hib prospective
success. Hill was not. He was too greedy, and, nar-
row-minded as he was, could not wait content imtil
the Robkhaven plum was ripe. He wanted to grasp it
at once, even to ruin its fruition entirely. He railed

193

BOCKHATEN

:!b:

I ;

and groaned whenever a dollar was put out, and had
from the start. In his narrow vision it was so much
thrown away. Every item in the press that called for
outlay, the use of the thousands held by Simmons to
manipulate the market, and especially the hundred
or more that each week had to be sent to the island,
each and all added to Hill's misery. Weston, the
liberal rascal, had for a long time folt disgusted with
his partner's miserly instincts; now he positively
hated him and longed for the day when he could deal
him a crushing blow. Both were unscrupulous
c "hemers and thieves at heart, but of the two Hill
was the worse. Not only (lid Weston come to hate
Hill more and more each day, but he grew tired of
the sight of his pinched and hypocritical face, his
sunken eyes and clammy handshake — for shake
hands with him occasionally he must. Then Hill
was so unlike Weston in other ways it added to the
feeling of disgrist; he never used tobpcco or drank,
and held up his hands in holy horror at any lapse
from the code of morality, and worse than that, if
Weston let slip any word of profanity, as he occa-
sionally did, Hill exclaimed against it.

To have one's small vices made a daily text for
short sermons is unpleasant, even to the best of

THE PROORESS OF A " COBNEB '

193

But while Weston's hate and disgust grew apace,
no hint of it leaked out, and since he was the master
spirit in the Rockhaven Granite Company and in
that scheme held the reins, it moved on to culmina-
tion, unaffected by Hill's whining.

'i,.0

i:
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CHAPTEK XXV

A SUMMER DAY

The life of suspense now forced upon Winn was
not agreeable. He had too much inborn ambition
and energy of character, and once he had come to
feel himself his own master, as his mission to Kock-
haven allowed, never agajn could he fill a menial
position and be satisfied, and the possibility of it
once more seemed degradation. Then again his
present dilemma was calling. He had followed Jess
Hutton's advice, but no word came from the city
except the weekly remittance from his firm and let-
ters urging him to sell stock. He would not do so
now, not even if those honest people had offered any
price, and what he had sold was a source of dread.
But no one wanted more, for the partial cessation
of work in the quarry was handwriting on the wall.

And so the summer days sped by, and Winn's long-
ing for a better understanding with Mona grew
stronger. In a way he stood in a false position toward
all these people except Jess, and the longer it
194

f ^

A SCMMEB DAY

196

i:'il

remained so the worse it seemed, so one evening he
resolved to confide in Mona.

" Let us go over to the cave to-morrow afternoon,"
he said, " I've something to tell you." It was Ho firs*
step toward the right, and he felt better for having
taken it. When they were crossing the mile of undu-
lating ledges separating the village from this lonely
gorge, Winn, carrying the little green bag and load-
ing Mona like a child around the rocks, experienced
a strangely sweet feeling of protection and care for
her, and with it came the determination to utter no
more of the cutting speeches so natural to him.

"I may not be here much longer," he thought,
" and it shall be a pleasant afternoon for her to re-
call when I am gone."

And be it said here that when a man feels that
way toward a woman, love's silken cord has been
knotted about his heart When they reached the
niche, at the head of the gorge, a surprise awaited
Winn, for its floor was carpeted thick with freshly
gathered ferns, and bunches of wild roses and clusters
of red berries were thrust into each crevice.

" What good fairy has been here ahead of us ? " ex-
claimed Winn as he looked at the charming nook.
" Was it you, Mona i "

" It must have been one of your mermaids," she

'Mr

V-

196

BOCKRAVEN

answered prettily, " and our coming has frightened
her away."

"One who plays the violin, I imagine," he an-
swered smiling, " and has raven tresses instead of
sea-green."

But when Mona was seated and he opposite reclined
on the fresh green carpet, he was in no hurry to tell
his story, and for reason. The spot, with its wild
grandeur of cliff wall on one side, the other gently
sloping and broadening down to where the white-
crested billows leaped in among the weed-draped
rocks, was beyond all question the most picturesque
bit of coast scenery he had >ver saen. And now it
seemed endowed with a newer charm. Here he was,
hidden away from all the wide world and almost
from himself, with Nature at her grandest and the
limitless ocean voicing eternity at his feet. For a
little time he watched the white-crested billows toss-
ing the rockweed and brown kelpie aloft as they
swept into the gorge witli a solemn roar. Somehow,
just then, it seemed to him as if he and Mona were
alone with God, and the world was young, and life
all before him. And at this moment he forgot all
his troubles, and the price of Rockhaven stock seemed
of less account than the ferns he sat upon.

" This spot makes a better man of me, Mona," he

▲ SUMMER DAY 19?

said at last, " and today it lifts mu into the frame
of mind that the church bells always do at eventide.
I am not a believer such as you people here arc who
join the church. I am only of the world, worldly, em-
bittered somewhat by experience and therefore rather
distrustful. And yet here it all disappears, and only
God seems good to me." Then he paused, looking
out on the wide ocean once more while Mona watched
him with wistful eyes, wondering what odd speech
would fall from his lips next.

" I asked you to come here to-day, little girl," he
said at last, " to tell you the story of my life and
what has made me as I am. You have been kind
and tender and patient with my whims, your mother
has opened her door to me, your uncle has trusted mo
and been my friend, your minister and many others
have been kind to me also, and in all ways a welcome
to me and my errand here has been extended. And
now I will tell my story." And tell it all he did,
not even omitting Ethel Sherman. All the years

nad been a menial in Weston & Hill's office, his
associates the while and their influence, and then this
new departure in life with all its hopes and ambitions,
to end in a fog of doubt and suspense. When the
recital was ended he felt better ; how Mona felt her
words can best indicate.

1»8

UOCKIIAVEN

" I am glad you trust me ao much," she said, " and
I wish I could gay a word that would help you.
Uncle Jess's advice must be for the best." And then
an intuition that all this meant Winn's leaving the
island soon brought a shadow over her face. For a
little time the two sat in silence, unconscious of the
wild romance of the nook or the ceaseless monotone
of the ocean just below.

" I have worked hard to make this venture a suc-
cess," he said at last, in a dejected tone, " ano hoped
for much, but now it all seems likely to vanish, and
worse than that, the good people here who have
bought stock will lose by it and blame me. I can-
not tell them how matters stand, or even leave here
at present, and yet any day I may hear that the com-
pany has dissolved. I've lost all confidence in them
now, and to protect myself am forced to act a dishon-
orable part and let them send money I do not need.
I have a friend to whom I sent our stock, but no word
comes from him, and so, little girl, you see why I am
so disheaitened."

But Mona scarcely understood all he had said —
some of it not at all. The matter of stock values and
how the present dilemma came about was quite be-
yond her. What she did understand was that some
grave danger threatened Winn and he must leave the

A ICMMBK OAT

199

island. She had, impelled by a sweet girlish impulse,
come to the cave early that day, bringing ferns and
flowers to deck it and surprise this man whose every
word and smile seemed of so much value. She had
brought her violin, glad if he cared to hear her plii^' ;
she had hoped the little outing, away from all othfra
in this trysting place, would be charming to him;
and in her girlish heart meant to make it so, and
now the little plan had come to naught, and instead
she had heard what caused a heartache. Thn
.terns were fast wilting and the violin remained in its
ease.

"Come, dear," said Winn, speaking freely and
seeing the cloud on her face, " lot us forget this
trouble and enjoy this afternoon. We may not have
another one here. Please play for me now."

But her muse had fled, and she only turned away
to hide the pain in her face.

" I will by and by," she said faintly ; " I want to
think now."

And Winn, conscious of the blow he had dealt her,
felt a strange sense of guilt. He had known for
many weeks that his every word and look and smile
was a joy to her, and while not for one instant had
she overstepped the bounds of maidenly reserve, her
thoughts were of him. And then as he looked at her

soo

BOCKIIAVIN

,il

with face half turned away and lip« tightly cloaed aa
if to kcop back the tears, a suddou impulse to gather
her close in his a -ms and whis}>er fond and loving
words came to hitn. But he put it away,

" I wish you would play for me, dear," he said
very gently, " and drive away my blues. Play some-
thing lively." And the boy god, ever hovering where
hearts are tender, sheathed his arrow and flow
away.

Many times afterward Winn thought of that
moment and always with regret.

A little longer Mona waited, and then, like an
obedient child, drew her violin from its case.

Our moods are our masters, and be it untutored
girl or world-wiso man or woman, they shadow or
brighten all expression. And though Mona played
at his bidding one and another of the lively airs she
knew, a minor chord of sadness ran through them
all.

Then, to his surprise, she began one of the late light
operas he had sent for and given her weeks before.
She did not play it with ease, a halt eame now and
then, but she played it all through and then paused.

" I am surprised," he said ; " when and how did
you learn that ? You told me you could not read a
note of music."

A SCltMKB DAT

SOI

"I have been learning to reail," she answered
quietly, " and Uncle Jciig has lipli>e<l me."

And then Winn, wisiiing to encourage lier in lorae
way, or at least lead her thoughts out of their pres-
ent gloom, uttered a bit of foolish iidvice.

" Mona, my dear," he said eurmstly, " some day I
hope you may have a chance to study music in the
city. If you liave, and I would advise it, you will win
a name for yourself."

" Would you come to hear me if I did ! " she an-
swered sadiy.

" Most assuredly," he said, " and shower you with
choicest flowers."

When the lowering sun had left the gorge in
shadow, and twiliglit had crept into the cave, Mona
picked up her violin, and, as if to utter her own
heartache, softly played the old love sciig Winn bad
first heard whispering out of that wild gorge.
Watching her and listening thus to what seemed the
quivering of that girl's heart, his eyes grew misty.

" Come, dear," he said, when the sad song ended,
" it's time to go home."

And all the way back he held her arm and gently
guided her steps among the rocks.

iM\

■^1

I, ;1

CHAPTER XXVI

A CLIMAX

When Winn reached his room that evening, a let-
ter from Jack Niekerson and a clipping from the
Market News was awaiting him. The letter said:
Come at once to the city, but keep shady when you
arrive. Cto to a hotel and send for me. Rockhaven
is up lo ten, the street is all short of it, and a bear
panic may come any day. Have held your stock to
unload at top price. May do it to-morrow, but come
anyway."

The clipping was as follows : " As we predicted
weeks ago, Rockhaven, in spite of countless rumors
put forth by the bears, has crept steadily upward.
Most of it is in the hands of conservative investors
who know its value, and some day those who sold it
so freely for five and six will be bidding fifteen and
twenty for it. It is a safe purchase now on any weak
spot, and good for ten points more."

And Winn, fresh from the spell of Mona's eyes
and the tender mood of that afternoon, felt that ho
208

A CLIMAX

203

had reached a turning-point in his life and that inde-
pendence and the end of his suspense were in sight.
Go to the city he must, and at oucc, riiai was certain,
and perhaps a small fortune sfai almost -.ithin his
grasp! The thought made hi i (Ml lsen leai. All his
life long he had been hardly more than a cipher, a
poorly paid menial, and now possible freedom and
escape from serfdom was near. Then another im-
pulse came, which was a natural sequence of the
others. He had never, since boyhood days, felt that
he had a home. His aunt's was but a free boarding
place, and irksome at that; the city and its ways
were not congenial to him — even the thought of
going there now was obnoxious ; and as this realiza-
tion grew, there came to him, much like the sound
of church bells, the sincerity, the honest friendship,
the simple truth of those people he had for three
months lived among. And into this appreciation also
entered — Mona.

Like all men, he aspired to some wealth and the
protection it means; and now, when a little of it
seemed within his grasp, there followed a nobler im-
pulse, and that the home-building one. Then when
he thought of the city once more, with its social hy-
pocrisy, its vain display of wealth, its cold, heartless
life, where none seemed ready to extend a hand to

J'*,

204

KOCKHAVEW

him, he felt more than ever it never was and never
could be a home for him. And then in sharp con-
trast to one city product, Ethel Sherman, came a
thought of the girl who that morning had decked the
cave with ferns and flowers, that it might seem more
worthy of him. And now herself and her life passed
in review. He saw her at home, patient with her
mother's whims, helping when and where she could :
at church bowing in reverence to the simple devotions
and joining in the singing; and in the wild gorge
where she hid herself away to practice. This last
touch of romance seemed to affect him more than all
else, and as he thought of those eyes, into which
no shadow of falsehood ever entered, and how all
that was beautiful in nature, from the roses that
grew between the granite ledges of the island to the
boundless ocean beating against its cliSs, appealed to
her as to him; insensibly, and quite beyond his
power to check, came the sweet illusion of love. Clone
for the moment was the memory of Ethel Sherman
and the bitterness she had meted out to him, and in
its place opened a new world. Gone, too, was the in-
fluence of the one man who, above all others, had
forced his cynicism upon Winn and taught him dis-
trust of womankind. Almost, but not quite, did this
gentle thraldom win, and then — the reaction came.

A CMMAX

205

.■11

"I will tell Mona, as a big brother should," he
thought, " all she has a right to know, and leave the
island as I came. I may return and I may not."

But Winn, of wayward impulse and changeful
nature, now buoyant, now despondent, knew not his
own heart nor its needs, and understood not at all
how some strn v, some pebble of chance, would inev-
itably swerve him in spite of all resolution.
It is thus with us all.

And now came the business side of his dilemma.
" It goes without sayin' ye best do as yer friend
says," advised Jess, when Winn had read the letters
to him, "'n' the sooner the better. Sell yer own
stock fust, if ye kin, an' then mine if ye hev the
chance, but don't worry if ye can't. I'll take keer o'
matters here while ye're g'- ,xn' when ye git bu. k,
we'll haul in the net 'n' see 7e stand."

" But how about the othei^ here ? " queried Winn
who had worried about them fully as much as about
himself. "I must see that they are taken care
of."

" Wal," answered Jess, slowly, " ye go ahead 'n'
see how the land lays, 'n' mebbe I'll follow ye if ye
send me word ; 'n' if ye don't, an' things go to smash,
I'll see none on 'em here is loser."

And this was Jess Hutton, the man above all

206

BOOEHATEir

others whom J. Malcolm Weston had urged his dupe
to sell stock to! Never before did Winn feel so
ashamed that he came there as manager for the Rock-
haven Granite Company.

" Mr. Hutton," he said earnestly, " I shall always
be thankful that I told you from the start how matters
stood, and if the worst comes, you will know '. was
no fault of mine."

" I knowed ye war honest, the fust time I sot eyes
on ye," responded Jess, cordially, " an' now ez ye're
goin' soon, it won't do ye no harm to tell ye. An'
more'n that, I'll tell ye I tiever doubted from the
start this boss o' yourn was a rascal, an' the only
reason I bought a little stock was 'cause I liked ye 'n'
wanted to help ye."

Winn felt more ashamed than ever.

When he returned to his room late that evening,
the moon, now a few days past its full, was just rising
over Norse Hill and silvering the dark and silent
houses along the way. No one was up, and so still
was the village that his footsteps on the plank walk
seemed to echo across the island. When he came to
where Eock Lane joined the street, he paused. Just
beyond he could see the little church and bac.V of it
the silent village of the dead, each stone distinct and
ghostly in the moonlight, to the left the motionless

A CLIMAX

207

harbor, a glittering field of silver, and beyond the old
tide mill, spectral and solemn. And faintly wbis-
perod in the stilly night the ocean voice.

Many times afterward that picture returned to his
memory.

. 1 1

CHAPTER XXVII

8BVEBIN0 THE TIES

The next day seemed to Winn almost like prepar-
ing for a I'uneral.

" I wish you would go over to the gorge with me
this afternoon," he said to Mona that morning, « I
must leave here to-morrpv, and I want to bid the spot
good-by."

And she, busy among the sweet wiUiams, pinks,
and marigolds that were her daily care, felt her heart
sink.

And Winn, believing it his last day on the island,
went his way, first to the quarry that had been his
everyday duty for almost three months. Only four
men were retained, and those were to be kept at work
until he returned, or until Jess ordered otherwise.
To no one could he say his departure was final. Then
he wandered about among the wharves that had so in-
terested him the first day on the island, and spoke
with the few fishermen busy there. All knew him,
and each had a pleasant word and nod. He watched
them at their work, salting the fish they had split and
808

The Devil's Oven.

1 )

8EVEBIN0 THE TIES

209

wevp packing, one upon another, in a large tank, or
spreading cured once on racks to drv, nnd packing up
in bundles those that were dried. He sniffed the pun-
gent odor and looked out seaward, where the fishing
craft, with all sail set, wee dei arting. Then he
strolled inward to where the little steamer made
landing. She had left for that day and her wharf
was deserted. Winn thought that on her next trip
he would be a passenger leaving the island for good.
Strange to say, as he passed on he noticed with pe-
culiar interest the sign, " Coffins and Caskets " on a
small shop just back of a house. Then he followed
the sandy shore of the inner harbor pasi an old, dis-
mantled fishing smack, beached high and dry, on the
stem of which the name " Nancy Jane " was still
legible, and then on up to the tide mill. Here he
paused again, looking into the dark interior where
only the sills remained, and below them a space
through which the tide ebbed. And he thought of the
girl who had ended her life there.

Somehow, all that morning ♦hese sad reminders of
life and death on the island seemed to thrust them-
selves before him. The mood they engendered was
with him when that afternoon he, with Mona for com-
panion, started for the gorge. And she was almost as
silent as the old mill.

310

BOCKIIATtN

"IVe been bidding good-by to the island all the

mom.ng ' he Baid, when they reached the top of

-Norse Hill, " and I hate to go away."

"But you are coming back, aren't yon?" she

asked, with a note of pain.

" Oh, yes," he said cheerfully, " I hopr ro, but I

can t tell. You know why I go, and my business hen,

may be at its end. But if it is, I shall visit the island

nevt summer, if I live.

■ Come, dear," he added, when the gorge wa.

reached and he had assisted her down, " let's leave
the violm here and hunt for sea-shells. I want some
to carry away." A,.: Hke two children thev clam-
bered over the rocks u,e tide haa left bare, picking
up the starfish, chiU to the touch, sea-urchins, snail
shells, sailors' money purses, tossed above the tide
level and dried black and hard, and watching the
anemones and crabs left prisoners in pools between
the rocks. Overhead the gulls circled and far to sea-
ward the white sails of coasters and fishermen
Kleamed in the sunlight, and beside Winn, following
wherever he went, Mona, with hsr appeaKng eyes.
They talked of nothings, as usual, and he stole covert
ooks at her face, noting how the sea winds played
havoc with her loosened hair.

Later they sought the cave where the ferns and

in::

BEVBBIjra TUB T1E8

211

flower* she had brought the day before lay with-
ered.

" I am going to leave all but one each of the gtar-
fish and ghells we have gathered," he said, " here in
our little nook, and see if we will find them when I
come back."

" We shall," she replied, " for no one ever comes
here but me, and I will watch them."

It was a child's thought, but there are moments in
our lives when to act like children is a relief.

" I hope you will eoiiie hero often," lie added,
" and feel this is our piuyhouso, and when I think of
you I shall always see you as you are now and in this
cave. And you uiust keep up your practice and I
shall send you some new music and write to you, and
if you have a picture of yourself, I sliould like it."

" I have or.. .^ taken wlicn I was a little girl,"
she answered, " but you shall have it"

He could have had her heart, and soul even, had he
asked it.

" Now play for me, dear," he said very gently,
" some of the old songs you play best."

And once again, as many times before, Winn vis-
ited the banks of " Bonnie Doon " and the fields of
heather over which the tarfan-clad ranks marched to
the tune of " The Blue Bells of Scotland " and " The

\)i

919

ROCKHAVEN

rampbellg are Coming." And lie hoard the pipet
droning and saw " IJonni.. l)und(<c" with waving
plumo and tlic gwwt lanHio " Comin' thro' tho Kyo,"
and hoard the love plaint of " Robin Adair," " Aul'd
Robin Gro.y," and the- undying heart-cry of sweet
" Annio Lanrie."

And into these was blended the low lullaby of the
ocean.

When it was all ended and the twilight had come,
without a word bo bold out bis band, and slowly and
in silence gently guided bor footsteps out of the gorge.
Along the devious way niiiong the lodges bo led her, a
drooping flower, thirsting for one drop of the water
of life, one word of love, ay, one word of pity I

The purple shade of coming night had crept in
from the wide ocean ere tliey reached tlio old stone
tower, and here be |)ausod. Full well be knew what
every impulse of his own heart called upon him to
utter, and yet bis lips wore dumb. Full well be knew
how the girl who stood beside him felt, and tho heart-
ar.he that was her portion.
And still he was silent !

The chill night breeze from the sea swept over the
hill. Suddenly the girl shivered.

And then, as he looked out upon the darkening sea
and heard the solemn requiem sounding below the

«EVERtNO THE TIEH

213

cliff, the voicp of eternity nrxi life and death i(|)cakiii^
there UHHealed \m \'\\m.

The next nintiieiit Jlona wph clasped in hid armn.

" God help nie, little girl," he said, " I love you."

Later, the moon, Bniiling approval, rose out of the
ocean, and when the two, nov one, turned to go, once
more he gathered her close to his heart.

" You will come hack now, won't you ? " she said.

And looking into the tear-wet eyes upraised to his,
he kissed her once, twice, thrice.

" Surely," he answered, " my heart is here now."

CHAPTER XXVIII

OS CHANOB

Iw Wall Street, the most gigantic gambling Mecca
the world knows, where millions change hands every
hour of the five of howling delirium that constitute
a stock-exchange day, the two parties, « bulls " and
"bears," wage a finaricial war.

Each has its general, recognized leader as well as
a dozen lesser ones, who organize pools and cliques,
manipulate news, issue statements that are pure fic-
tion, pay for items in the press that are fairy tales,
gather their moneyed forces into aggregation for
practical robbery of others, and bend all energies of
brain, experience, and knowledge of conditions to one
focal point, and that either to depress or enhance the
value of securities. Each main army has its general
method, controls its banks, pays enormous tolls to
telegraph companies, fixes rates of interest at will,
pays for and colors the daily utterances of its owi^
newspapers, and buys truth and falsehood with equal
readiness at so much per line.
au

ON OKANOE

215

This describes the two parties generally; yet the
men who constitute them are daily changing, and out
of a thousand who may be among the bears to-day,
half might be found with the bulls a week hence.
Some may be on both sides at once, pushing one stock
up and another down, a kaleidoscopic jumble of half
insane human beings, whose statements as to value,
conditions, and their own intentions bear no rela-
tion to the truth and are not expected to do so. It
is a contest of cunning, a war of falsehood, a battle
of deception. And those who fall by the wayside
excite no pity, receive no consideration, and if they
rise not by their own exertion, they are kicked out of
the way.

Professionally speaking, lawyers have been called
legal liars, but compared to stock manipulators they
are walking examples of truth and veracity. A
lawyer may lie and can if necessary, but a stock oper-
ator lies all the time, from sheer force of habit. A
lawyer might lie to judge, jury, or his own client, but
there is some chance that he may tell the truth to
a brother lawyer; while stock brokers will lie to
each other on all occasions, and if necessary swear
to it.

And this is business in Wall Street I

A few other great citieb have their lesser Wall

316

BOCKHAVElf

Streets, and where Weston & HiU, like a deadly npag
tree, flourished for a tine, a mimic Wall Street ex-
isted. It had its clique of bulls and bears, its Market
News, its leaders, large and small, its daily contest
of lies and money power, and though Weston & Hill
were not among its members, their broker, Simmons,
was — an active and unscrupulous mouthpiece, ready
to fleece all fellow-brokers, or the firm he acted for,
if necessary. He had bought or sold Rockhaven
stock, as its prime mover, Weston, directed; circu-
lated lies galore for three months; and by the occult
process of manipulation had slowly worked the
price up from one tq ten dollars per share, and
had so colored his lies and so managed the deal
— now selling a thousand shares quietly, then
buying them back ostentatiously — that, as the
phrase goes, "the street was kept guessing aU
the time."

Some believed it was a good investment; more
felt sure it was a " wildcat," and that soon or late
the bubble would burst and the stock go down to
rise no more. Only Simmons and Weston knew what
was to be the outcome, but neither was likely to tell.
More than that, they knew how much stock was in
actual circulation or held by the street, and beyond
that, a close approximation of how great a short

S !

L-

ON 'CHANOE

217

interest had accrued. Each day since Rockhaven
had been quoted at all, Simmons had made entry
of all recorded sales, and knowing how much had
been issued and how much bought in by himself, en-
deavored to keep track of it. It was fallacious, for
the same stock might be bought and sold a hundred
times, and the long and short disparity remain the
same. One thing he knew, — how much had actually
been sold, and out of this (a matter of thirty thou-
sand) fully twenty thousand, he believed, would
never be heard of on the street.

But he reckoned without Winn Hardy.

Rockhaven had been jeered and sneered at by the
bear party ; its backers, Weston & Hill, were known
to be sharpers ; their broker, Simmons, bore the same
reputation; prediction that it was a wildcat and
they unloading it on to the street had been repeated
a thousand times ; the Market News items were con-
sidered unreliable, and on the strength of all this
hotbed of lies the knowing ones had sold the stock
all the way up. Some had covered it at a loss, and
smarting from that had sold again at a higher price,
firmly believing it must fall some day; and when
poor duped Winn, unconscious of the situation, was
steaming toward the battleground, a dozen growling
bears were selling Rockhaven at every point advance.

218

BOOKHATBir

SI >

» I

Only bears sold to bears, however; for those who
held what was out owned it at a lower price, and
so long as it kept up they parted with none. It had
opened that morning at ten and one-half, by noon
rose to twelve and one-quarter, and at the delivery
hour of two was firm at fourteen. Simmons had
bought a few hundred when it had dropped a
half point, just to cheer up the game, and
knowing those who sold had none to deliver. A
few bulls who owned it at five and six started
a story that a comer had been engineered, and
predicted that it would go to thirty inside a week.
And when the gong sojinded that day, and the mar-
ket cloi'.d with Rookhaven at fifteen and one-
quarter bid and sixteen asked, a few of the
fur-coated liars looked askance at one another
and went out and drank liberally to keep their
courage up.

And that night Weston and Simmons held an-
other conference. It was a vital one; for before
it closed some ten thousand shares of general
securities Weston & Hill either owned or held in
trust passed into Slmmons's possession, and when
the two conspirators separated, one was richer
by nearly two hundred thousand dollars, based on
the market price of these securitiej, and the other

ON XHANOE

219

gloating over the prospective robbery of his hated
partner.

But a halt came the next day, for SimmonB bid
sixteen for a block of Rockhaven, a few conservative
bulls unloaded and the price dropped two points,
while the bears took courage.

tUi

■I

CHAPTER XXIX

THE BUBBLE BISES

It was early dawn when Winn stepped from his
train and into the ceaseless babel of the city. Market
wagons were crowding the streets, the army of
workers hurrying in every direction, newsboys shout-
ing, humanity elbowing' and pushing, draymen seem-
ingly ready to run over him, — and this was his
welcome back into the monster hive he had left
three months before. What a contrast to Rock-
haven !

Then to a hotel, a bath, a barber; and, finally,
when he had made himself somewhat more in keeping
with the well-groomed if heartless city folk that he
must now meet, he secluded himself in a comer of
a dining room, where he breakfasted behind a morn-
ing paper. He first turned to the stock page, fully
expecting to see the name "Rockhaven" staring
him in the face ; but he did not. Then his eye ran
down the column of quotations until, among the un-
listed securities, it rested on " Rockhaven," thirteen
aao

THX BUBSLS BISES

221

bid and fourteen asked. And strange to say, the
thirteen seemed significant ; and now he looked else-
where, feeling sure that he would find the Kockhaven
Granite's Company's advertisement, but failed. There
were others equally alluring, and to his mind equally
deceptive,— oil, mining, development, building, and
every other sort of scheme confronting him, each
promising safe and sure returns and assuring the
reader in fervid language that " now is the time to
invest" And so eager were these swindlers to catch
the unwary, that some offered stock for five cents a
share, and non-assessable at that. Never before had
Winn realized that schemers could descend to such
pitiful methods as to issue, sign, and keep regord of
stock at a nickel a share 1 A tirap to catch even
newsboys !

Turning in disgust to the column of market gossip,
he read the following: " Out of the multiplicity of
investment organizations now crowding each other
on all sides, a late one, the Rockhaven Granite Com-
pany, has forged to the front, its stock having crept
up f »om one to fourteen dollars per share. But little
is known of this company, and conservative investors
believe the unusually rapid advance in its stock solely
due to manipulation."
In this great human hive and on the pages of this

'■*

222

ROOXBAVIN

I 1

leading newspaper the million-dollar scheme of Wes-
ton & Hill was only entitled to one line in the list
of quotations and a five-line news item.

And Winn thought himself and his troubles to be
of small concern.

But his troubles enlarged rapidly when Jack
Kickerson came to his room later on.

" Well, old man," suid that cheerful sceptic, look-
ing Winn over, " you don't seem to have the odor of
fish 0/ any barnacles about you. You have had a
hair cut, I see ; and now if you will visit a tailor,
you will soon be one of us again."

" Yes," laughed Winn, sarcastically, " I'm back
where clothes make the man and put thieves and
honest men on the same footing. But how is Rock-
haven coming on ? "

" It's not only coming, but it is here, — at least
its only honest supporter is," answered Jack.
" Where is your old fiddling friend, Hutton ? I ex-
pected you would bring him along to look us swindlers
over."

" No, I left him down at Kockhaven at peace with
all the world and philosophizing on human deprav-
ity," answered Winn ; " he would be as much out of
place here as you would be there."

"Well, you'd best send for him, or else all the

,1'

THK BVBBLE RI8I8

238

Stock you sold on the island," asserted Nickerson,
" and do it now. Matters have reached a climax, as
I wrote you, and Page wants to ' do ' old Simmons.
We have held your stock for that purpose, and we want
all we can get besides. The street is all short of it;
and when they get scared, as they will soon, and Sim-
mons tries to unload on them, we propose to be in the
dance. Can't you wire the island t "

And Winn, once more in touch with the active life
of the city, paused to collect himself.

"I might wire Captain Roby," he said, "and
rear'' the island to-night. But Roby has bought one
hundred of this stock, and if he realized the situation,
he'd faint"

" Well, let hira," answered Jack, " he'll come to
quick enough when he understands his stock is worth
fourteen dollars to-day and may not be worth one
cent to-morrow. My belief is, if you wired him
the price now, he'd point his old boat for the city
and shovel coal under the boiler all the way him-
self."

" He wouldn't do that," replied Winn, " but he'd
start for the island at once, and in ten minutes every
one would know it."

"Well, wire him," said Jack, "and do it now.
Tell him to see your philosopher."

' li

224

KOCKHAVair

And Winn obeyed.

" Now," said Jack, " you are a priioner here in
this room until Page says otherwise. If ever Sim-
mons or Wp' jn learns you are in the city, it will up-
set our plans. When your old barnacle arrives, we'll
lock him up also until the crash comes, and then take
you both into the exchange and let you see the fun.
He will be all the safer anyway. Some one might
sell him a gold brick."

"Not much," answered Winn, stoutly. "Jess
Hutton can't be buncoed. He was keen enough to
see through Weston the moment he set foot in his
store, while it took me three months to do it."

" Well, you're getting you eye teeth cut slowly,"
laughed Jack, "and in a year or two you'll know
sheep from goats. I'm sorry you can't go to call on
Ethel Sherman this evening, but you can't. It's just
as well, for when she hears you have come out on top
of Rockhaven and are worth a few thousand, she'll
receive you with more warmth. She is back from the
mountains, brown as an autumn leaf and looking out
of sight. If I didn't know she was the most heart-
less and selfish hyprocite ever clad in petticoats, I'd
make love to her myself."

And Jack Niekerson, the inveterate s 'offer at all
things, took himself a y.

THE BCBBLK HISBB

825

That day Rockliaven was bid up to twenty, the
short interest more than doubled, and the two arch
conspirators, Weston and Siramons, in the privacy
of the latter's office that night, held a love feast,
nudged each other in the ribs, and laughed and joked
while they smokc<l costly cigars, feeling sure a small
fortune was within sight.

" I think it's best to let 'em bid it up to about
forty," said Simmons, in a self-confident tone, and
as though the street were within his grasp, " and then
I'll feed those hungry bears granite chips by the
shovelful."

"I flatter myself," he continued, "that I have
engineered this deal as but few could ; and if this
pious old hen, Mrs. Converse, attends strictly to
foreign missions a few days longer, all will go
well."

" No need to worry about her," responded Weston,
whose spirits had also risen. " I,too,am fairlysmooth,
and have persuaded her to leave her stock with me to
sell when the right time comes; and I have also
subscribed five hundred toward a home for old ladies
she is interested in. That's the way I converse with
her."

And the two laughed at this poor pun.

Little did either realize that Nemesis, with three

•1

'.'I

99«

moaxMAVMn

thouMnd (hwef in reterve, lurked in Broker Page'i
office, and that another thouaand in the pocket of the
" foaail who fiddled," as Weaton had once called Jeas
Hutton, would be added to that avenging olub, inaide
of twentjr-four houra.

The Blbble Bursts.

CHAPTER XXX

THE BUBBLE BUBST8

In response to Winn's summons, dressed in a
somewhat faded and nondescript garb, with bell-
crowned silk hat of ancient style, Jess Button reached
the city.

And he was a picture!

His coat, a snrtout with small gilt buttons, a red-
dish brown vest, trousers o± gray mixed stuff, a high
collar with black satin stock, and his i-uddy brown
face with fringe of gray beard and keen twinkling
blue eyes made him conspicuous. He carried a cane,
limping a little as always, and when he greeted
Winn on the station platform, the latter felt that all
Rockhaven had arrived.

" Ain't this a leeile sudden ? " he said, when the
two had shaken hands. " I sorter cac'lated ye'd send
fer me, an' when I got the message I thought o' old
Abner Tucker's tombstone. He'd alius been
skeered o' lightnin', an' when he got hit his widder
had his stun sot up 'n' put on't, ' I 'spected this, but
not so soon.' "

aan

S28

BOCKHAVKir

I .,

" I'm glad you came," said Winn, heartily, " and
hope you have brought all the stock I sold on the
island."

" Oh, I fetched it all, even the parson's, 'n' he told
me a blessin' went with hisn," responded Jess.

And then Winn, more light-hearted than ever be-
fore in his life, hurried the old man into a carriage.

" We are to keep in hiding," he said, " until my
friends say the word, and then I'll take you to the
stock exchange and we will see our stock sold."

" I don't see po use in hidin' in this 'ere jumble o'
humanity," asserted iTess, as their vehicle became en-
tangled in a street blockade, " the puzzle on't here 'ud
be to find anybody ye wanted."

" It's best that we hide, however," replied Winn.
"If Weston caught sight of either of us, he
would know our errand here at once."

"I don't cac'late he'd 'member me," said Jess,
" though I'd recklect them gray stim'sls o' hisn out o'
a million."

And Winn, contrasting the old man's present rai-
ment with what he usually wore, concluded he was
right.

But that evening, when Page and Nickerson were
ushered into the room where Jess was held in (to
him) durance vile, there was a scene.

It:

TIIK BUBBLE BUBSTS 229

" I'm powerful glad to meet ye, gentlemen," Jess
asserted, shaking the hand of each in a way that
made them wince, " I'd a sorter cac'lated brokers had
horns 'n' claws the way ye're spoken on, but ye look
purty harmless. I suppose ye air brokers," looking
from one to the other, " an' which sort air ye, bulls
or bears ! "

" Either one or the other, as occasion serves," an-
swered P"o:e, laughing heartily. " We get together
and toss ^r claw one another, according to the mar-
ket, and when the fracas is over, count our cash and
go out and drink to each other's good luck."

And this, be it said, fairly expresses the financial
warfare daily waged " on 'change."

" I've read 'bout yer doin's," continued Jess, " an'
I alius caclateJ ye were all a purty slick crowd o'
deceivers, an' best ter steer clear on. I'm a sort o'
an old barnacle livin' on an island, 'n' when this 'ere
Weston woke me up one day, I made a fairly good
dicker with him, an' 'long come this young man, 'n'
I'll own up I kinder took ter him, bein's I hadn't
chick nor child 'n' nothin' fer company but an
old fiddle, 'n' just ter help him out, bought a leetle
stock. I got a few o' the rest to buy some, 'greein'
I'd see they wasn't to lose by it. I fetched it 'long,
'n' I tell ye, Mr. Hardy, yer message has stirred up

280

BOOXEATXir

qui» a itM. I'U bet yer landlady, the Widder
Moore, hain't slept a wink sense, V if Robv hadn't
heifn obligated to Uncle Sam, he'd 'a' started fer the
ULiinland that night"

"You are just in time, Mr. Hutton," observed
Page, interested in this honest old man at once, " and
unless all signs fail, I'll sell your stack to-morrow at
ten or twenty times its cost. How would you like to
carry back five thousand dollars for yourself and
double that to distribute among your friends ! "

" They'd all hev fits," answered Jess, " an' 'ud quit
fishin' an' start to quai*yin' right away. But I don't
oac'late ye will, Mr. Page, an' we'll all on us be satis-
fied to git our hats back. Hope ye may, though ; but
thar's no use in countin' chickens tiU they're
hatched."

And Jess Hutton, the cool and collected philoso-
pher that he was, did not for one moment hope even
that he would more than receive his money back. In
his understanding of the matter, this quoted price for
the stock was a mere fiction, and he felt sure that
when it was actually offered for sale, no one would
buy. To him it seemed like selling so much air.
Never in his life had he set foot in a stock exchange,
and when the next day, just as the great clock in the
exchange marked nine-fifty, and he with Winn and

THX BUBBI.B BUB8T8

381

Kickerson took seats in the gallerjr, no hint of the
coming turmoil came to Jess, and fortimately no sus-
picion of his or Hardy's presence in the city had
reached Weston or Simmons.

Then the gong sounded and bedlam ensued.

In an instant, a hundred men who had ban chat-
ting with one another in the pit, and as many more, as
if by magic, leaped out of hiding, and a howl went up.
They gathered in knots around the poles, pushing,
pulling, yelling like demons, waving their arms aloft
with fingers open, closed, or separated — a deaf mute
. alphabet used by these delirious men to buy or sell ;
and as they screamed and screeched and pushed and
swore in a mad scramble, fortunes melted away or
were created.

And on one side of that fiscal arena, tall, gaunt,
with a fringe of gray hair about his poll, and watch-
ing with eyes as merciless as a lynx ready to spring,
stood Simmons.

On the other, as alert, but younger, with the easy
sang froid of one skilled in this battle of values, stood
Page.

Full well he knew what his enemy's tactics would
be, and that when the crowd began to rally around
the Rockhaven pole, he would creep up like a panther,
and at the right moment overbid the highest. None

283

BOOKRAVEN

were buyers, for none wanted Rookhaven at its
present price, except frightened bears seeking t»
cover, and well Simmons knew it.

And so did Page, with his four thousand shares,
waiting for the bear panic sure to come^

Kockharen's turn now came. It opened at sixteen,
then up to seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, without a
halt; a breathless trio in the balcony attentively
watched the dial where its price was recorded, or
Page, who held their fortunes in his hand.

And then came the panic; for it had reached
twenty, and Simmons, like a spectre, advanced, bid-
ding twenty-one for ten thousand shares!

Then two bears, short as much each at five and six,
lost their heads.

Up, up it went by leaps of two, three, and five
points, bid by these half-crazed speculators, while
Page eyed Simmons.

Two tigers of finance, cool, calculating, merciless 1

The jam about the pole grew worse. A screaming,
pushing, mad mass of beings, insane with greed I

Some on top, some under, and all cursing, yelling,
a writhing monster, all heads and hands, the like of
which can nowhere else be found. Thirty was bid,
then thirty-two, four, six, eight I

Then forty!

THE BtmBLB B:;d8TS

283

And then Page, calculating to a nicety, leaped in !

In an instant, almost, the price fell twenty points,
for Simmons, quick to see his enemy's offer to sell,
lost his nerve and offered blocks of ten and twenty
thousand shares down, down at any price!

And the scared bears, as quick as he to see the tide
had turned, joined the downward bidding.

But Page had sold I

Winn and Jess were saved!

The bubble had burst !

Conscience, as in all great climaxes of human feel-
ing, was a factor in the crash ; for Simmons, know-
ing that he had once wronged and robbed Page, intui-
tively felt that a revenge was coming, and to save what
he could out of the wrecked plot, joined the insane
selling. For once in his life he played the coward.

After the financial delirium was over, there was a
scene between him and Weston, over which it were
best to draw the veil.

A more hilarious episode, however, occurred in
Page's ofiSce, when all met there after the exchange
closed.

" I didn't win out as I hoped," Page said to the
rest, " for the market broke like an egg-shell. I un-
loaded the four thousand at an average of twenty,
however, and had the pleasure of seeing Simmons

i;|

234

BOCXHAVXN

gnash his false teeth and shake his fist at me, which
was worth as much more." Then turning to Jess
he added : " How did you enjoy the pow-wow J "
Jess smiled.

" I've seen a passel o' hungry hogs squealin' an'
pawin' over a trough, an' two dogs fightin' over a
bone. I've seen a cage o' monkeys all mad an' makin'
the fur fly, an' if the whole kit 'n' boodle had been
put in a pen 'n' sot a-goin', it wouldn't 'a' ekalled the
fracas I've seen to-day. How any on 'em got out
'thout broken bones is more'n I kin see. I'd 'a' gin
a hundred to 'a' held t^ie nozzle o' a fire-engine hose
'n' squirted water on 'em."

"How would you have enjoyed being among
them ! " put in Niokerson, to whom the old man with
his grotesque raiment and speech was a source of
merriment

" I wouldn't 'a' sot foot 'mong that crowd o' loony-
tics fer a hundred dollars," answered Jess. " 1 cao'-
late they'd 'a' turned to 'n' bit me, same ez mad dogs."
" They'd have played foot^ball with your hat," re-
sponded Jack, who knew the ways of brokers, " and
in two minutes you wouldn't have had a whole gar-
ment on you. I've seen them tie a man's legs and drag
him around the room with a rope, then toss him in a
blanket for a wind-up. They are a tough lot, and

THB BUBBLE BUB8TB

886

a atranger who gets into their hands meets hard
usage."

" That's about the idee I had on 'em," said Jess ;
" they're wuss'n Injuns, an' ain't satisfied with takin'
a man's money, they want his hair, hide, 'n' toe nails.
If ever one on 'em comes ashore on Rockhaven 'n' I'm
aroimd, he'll think he's nm into a hornet's nest.
We'll use him wuss'n we did Abe Winty. He was a
shiftless ouss that got out into the island somehow
'bout ten year ago, an' begun beggin' for a livin'. He
'lowed he had asmer an' heart troubles an' a tech o'
liyer complaint, 'n' jest couldn't do no liftin' or any
sort o' hard work. He fooled us a spell, till we began
missin' things 'n' found they were gittin' into the
hands o' a low-down fellar who sold rum on the sly,
'n' then we held a sort o' indignation caucus, 'n' Abe
wa'n't invited. We had diskivered by this time that
Abe's heart 'n' liver was doin' biisiness 'bout ez usual,
'n' the only thing that ailed him was downright lazi-
ness. We sorter compared idees at the meetin', an'
the upshot on't was we concluded the island wa'n't
big 'nuff for him. We'd tried all manner o' talk to
shame him, but callin' names an' 'busin' him didn't
hev no more 'feet than rain on a duck's back. We'd
tried ooaxin' an' cussin' to git him to work, but him 'n'
work wus mortal enemies, 'n' when he couldn't beg

236

■OOKRAVIN

,'' »

I '

'nuff to eat he'd iteal it. Sntliin' had to bo did, V
we did it. Fust we ketched 'n' shackled him V
locked him up m a fish-house fer two days, feedin'
him on bread 'n' water, — mostly water at that, —
an' when he'd got good 'n' hungry we sarved him a
meal cooked with drug stuff, 'nuff in it to turn the
stomach o' a Digger Injun. He was that starved he
et it middlin' quick, an' then, to make the preceedin's
more interestin' to Abe, the man that took the vittles
to him told him pizen had been put in 'em 'n' he
hadn't more'n an hour to live. Then we gathered
round, peekin' in the doOr 'n' winders ez if cac'latin'
to enjie Abe's dyin' agonies. It wa'n't long 'fore the
drug stuff began workin', an' Abe, he got more scared
than old Bill Atlas was when we sot the sea sarpint
up to meet him. He hollered for mercy, an' when his
vittles started to worry him he began prayin' an' took
on woful, an' we just lookin' at him sober-like, ez if
his end was clus to. The perceedin's lasted 'bout two
hours, 'n' by that time Abe wus so weak he couldn't
hold up his head. Then we straddled him on a rail
'n' carried him to the boat, 'n' Cap'n Koby sot him
ashore."

" How would you like to serve Weston that way f "
put in Winn when the story was ended.

" I wouldn't mind," answered Jess, chuckling at

liH

TRC BUBBMS Bl'IWTa

337

the thought, "though I cao'late we've oome purty
near gettin' square with him. I'd like to hoc liim
humsoever, jiit about now, 'n' tell him old Hip Van
Winkle he« woke up, 'n' if he wants any more quarries
I'll 'commoilflte him if he'll come to Rockhaven."

Then when Page had made up the accounts of all
three whose stock he had sold, handing each a check
for their dues, all shook hands and separated.

And so warm was Winn's heart toward the old man
who had " sorter took to him on sight " that he es-
corted him to the hotel and remained with him until
he left for Rockhaven the next morning.

^!i

lfS»i

: n '.

U \

CHAPTER XXXI

TWO DOOS AMD A BOKI

When the market closed that afternoon there was
a acene in Simmons'B ofiBce and an exchange of lurid
language and mutual recrimination between Weaton
and himself imfit for publication.

Weston cursed Simmons for an arrant coward and
a doddering old idiot, and Simmons abused Weston
for a stupid fool who believed his dupe, Hardy, was
blindly quarrying granite and selling stock to other
dupes, when, instead, he had kept posted, come to
the city in the nick of time, and tipped over their
stock dish.

" The next time you pose for a great financier,"
said Simmons, with biting sarcasm, " and try to en-
gineer a comer, you had better place half your stock
in the hands of your office boy and tell him to attend
tlie ball games each afternoon. Then advertise what
your intentions are in the papers. It would be on a
par with what you have done. You may be able to
pray with a stupid old woman and hoodwink her, but

TWO DOOa AHD A BONX

289

aa for doing buiineM witii men, you have miiUken
your crdli iig. You can't even deoeive boyg ! "

And J. Malcolm Weeton, realizing how he hd
failed on Winn, who he now knew was in the city,
and had been in the exchange that day, hun^ his head
in shame.

He even forgot to itroke his "atun'ilt," aa Jess
called his side whiskers.

But there was one solace left him, and be pro-
ceeded to carry it out. In fact, he hiwl mado ireparu
tion to do so already.

" We will close up our business now, Mr. Situ-
mons," he said in a dejected tone, when the tiradf of
abuse had ceased, " and in future I will employ
another broker."

" Yes, and you are d d welcome to do it," sh-

serted Simmons, whose wrath had not cooled. " You
made a holy show of me to-day and let that upstart,
Page, turn the tables on me, and I've had enough of
you. You had better go and hold a prayer service
with Mrs. Converge. With Rockhavens at nothing
bid, she will be in a suitable mood for prayers. You
might ring the changes on ' The Lord giveth and the
Lord taketh away ' with her, but you won't bear any
resemblance to the Lord in her estimation. Take
your business and your schemes and hide yourself

Ji!

»'
I,

> t|

240

BOOKIUTXN

h I

it!

somewhere. Iwould suggest you go to Rockhaven and
ask your ' old fossil fiddler ' to play the ' Rogues'
March ' for you."

And, having thus relieved his mind, Simmons,
turned to his desk, and after a half-hour of careful
computation handed Weston a statement and check
for one hundred and ten thousand dollars, which rep-
resented the net results of the securities Weston had
turned over to him, after deducting the actual loss
they had made on Rockhaven. For the money re-
ceived from the sale of some thirty thousand shares
at one dollar each, had. more than been consumed in
buying back stock at various prices to affect the mar-
ket, in the quarrying operations, in Market News
items, and various other outgoes.

What Weston did receive after over a "»ir of
scheming was less than the original capital ti.h had
put intc the firm. Weston had previouoly checked
out and pocketed the firm's own bank balance, and
now he went the way he had for months planned to
go, and that night left the city.

And his wife, who had shrewdly insisted that their
residence be deeded to her, in case of business re-
verses, shed no tears.

It was a fitting climax to the life of a J. Malcolm
Weston.

. L

TWO DOOS AND A BONE

241

But there was another episode of equal interest,
and that the outcome of Weston's robbery of Hill.
And when that has been told, no more shall either of
these despicable men taint this narrative.

All that day while Rockhaven was first shooting
skyward and then downward. Hill sat in his office
watching the ticker. He couldn't go on to the floor
of the exchange ; he knew Weston was with Simmons ;
and so, like a human hyena, he lurked in his own den,
waiting for his share of the plunder. And when the
tape recorded forty for Rockhaven and then down to
nothing in less time than it can be told, Hill was the
happiest of men. He knew the plan was for Sim-
mons to sell at forty, and supposed that he had
done so. And in his greedy joy he began figuring
how much his share of the street's robbery would
be.

No thought of the poor widow, whose child was
even then at her work in his outer office, came to him.
He knew this confiding woman had, at his suggestion,
invested her all in Rockhaven, and that now it had
liecn swept away. It mattered not. Neither did he
think of Mrs. C!onverse, more especially Weston's
dupe, and whose stock, now worthless, was locked in
their safe. No thought of young Winn Hardy, their
faithful helper, and his loss came. No thought of

■^u

! i

242

ROOKHATKC

r.!

anybody who had lost by them and must suffer entered
his narrow and backward-sloping cranium. He only
thought of himself. And his deep-set eyee gleamed
with the miser's joy, and his shallow conceit swelled
with pride.

Now he was a great financier I

Now he was a power " on 'change " 1

When the market closed and the now beggared
stenographer and other office help had gone home, he
still waited. Weston would surely come soon and ac-
quaint him with the resultf of their great achiere-
ment.

But Weston came not

And Hill still waited.

And as one hour and then another was ticked off
by tlw- office clodc, he ceased computing his share of
the coming gains, and an intuitive sense that all was
not right came to him. He was naturally suspicious,
and being a thief at heart himself, quick to suspect
others.

And now he suspected Weston 1

Little by little his distrust increased as Hill
watched the office door and listened to the clock tick.
Trifling remarks that Weston had made, half-con-
cealed sneers he had let escape, returned to Hill as he
watched and waited.

I- '•

TWO DOOB ASD A BONE

243

Certainly he should come and divide, as any hon-
orable thief ought to.

But he did not 1

Never before had Weston failed to return at the
close of the exchange, where he was usually closeted
with Simmons. Why not now ?

And so the demon of suspicion grew.

When another hour had passed and the daily
workers in stores were hurrying homeward, Hill
could stand the suspense no longer, and taking his hat
almost ran to Simmons's office.

As might be expected, it was closed.

Then in a frenzy he hurried back to his own office
and rang up Weston's home on the telephone.

Weston was not there.

Then he tried Simmons's home, with the same re-
sult.

Then he went home.

From gloating over the prospective fortime he ex-
pected to share, he had in a few hours become almost
insane with a dread suspicion. His supper was but
half eaten; he wouldn't answer his patient wife's
question ; he couldn't read, or think of but one thing,
and that the horrible doubt and suspicion consuming
him.

That night bi« lieep waa filled with fiendish

I . f

844

■ockhatbh

dreams, and he saw Weston running away and leering
back at him over his shoulder.

When morning came, he hurried to his office an
hour earlier than usual. Only the office boy was
there, sweeping out. Hill went to his desk, where the
morning mail was left. But one letter was there, and
that from Winn Hardy, dated in the city the night
before and enclosing a check for two hundred and
thirty dollars, with the information that it belonged
to the firm and that he had severed his connection
with them.

True to his nature, even in despair, Hill put it in
his pocket, resolving to say nothing to Weston about
it. Then, to kill time till Weston came, he opened
the morning paper. On the front page was the star-
ing headlines : —

THE EOCKHAVEN GRANITE COMPANY

GONE TO SMASH

THE PRESIDENT, WESTON, SAID TO HAVE

SKIPPED

«:}'

And then cold beads of sweat gathered on the face
of Carlos B. Hill ! All the horrible suspicion of the
day before was now proven true ! He waited to read
no more, but with a groan of despair rushed, hatless,

i :

TWO DOOS AND A BONE

245

out of the office and ran to that of Simmons. That
ieiele of a man was tlioro, calmly reading his mail.

" Where is Weston," almost screamed the half-in-
sane Hill, " and what docs all this mean ? "

" I haven't the least idea where Mr. Weston is,"
replied Simmons, calmly. " Neither do I care. 'l
bala..oed our account with him yesterday at the close
of business, at his request, and beyond that have no
interest."

"But where is he? Tell me quick, for God's
sake! " dK)ute,l Hill, now trembling with o.xciteM.ent
and fear. 'T must know! Oh, what does this
mean ! "

" You had better go back to your own office and
read the papers," answered the imperturbable Sim-
mons, in a tone of disgust. " And when vou go out
again, put your hat on. As for Weston, I've done
with him, and good riddance. He made a mess of
his scheme, an ass of me ' on 'change ' yesterday, and
I hope I'll never see him again." And the always
cool Simmons turned to his mail. I^othing short of
a panic on the street or an earthquake ever disturbed
him.

" But where is all the money we made yesterday ? "
came from Hill, in strident voice. " I want it, and I
want it now ! "

lei

246

BOCXHATSK

It '■ '

i I

II. I:

And he did want it more than he wanted good
name, fame, wife, home, life, health, or Qod,
even I

" We made no money out of Kockhaven," answered
Simmons, too dixgusted even to be polite ; " and I
told you onee, I have squared my account with Wes-
ton and paid him all I owe him. If that is not
enough, I'll sing it to you."

And Hill, too agonized to feel an insult even,
turned away. Back to the office he ran and read the
long account of how Rockhaven had gone up like a
rocket and down like a stick. He also read how Sim-
mons had, at the criticaj moment, been worsted by
Page, and even a description of Jess Hutton, who
was present to see the fiasco. For Page, not satisfied
with his triumph, had called up a reporter, and it is
small wonder that Simmons was thoroughly incensed.
There was sarcastic reference to him in the article:
Weston was ridiculed, and even Hill did not escape,
for this sacrilegious scribe had suggested that he
could cool his rage at being baffled by fanning him-
self with his own ears. It was a malicious thrust,
for the one feature about himself that Hill was
ashamed of was his enormous ears.

In the midst of this added agony, in walked a clerk
from their bank to inform him the account of Weston

TWO DOGS AND A BONE

247

& Hill was overdrawn ten thousand dollars, and to
make it good inside an hour or legal itroceedings
would follow.

Then Hill, with a groan, staggered to their safe
and opened the till where securities were kept.
It was empty I

Then ruined, robbed, insulted, and in utter de-
spair, he who in all his long life of grasping greed
never had had one kindly thought for others, or of
their needs, locked himself in his private office.

And when, an hwir later, an officer knocked upon
the door, denumui^g admittance in the name of the
law, a pistol's report was the only answer.

And Carlos B. Hill, a cowardly sneak in life, died
a coward's deatk

But the minister of his church uttered an eulogy
over him, for so much had he bought and amply paid
for, and a small cortege followed him to his last rest-
ing place.

And among those few there was not a single sincere
mourner.
Not even his wife !

CHAPTER XXXII

THE AKTEKMATM OF A SWINDLI

r; I

Out of all the mai. confiding investor!) who were
robbed by Weston .'i Hill, only a few ae^-J bo nien-
tiono<l. Winn's au a, Mrs. Converse, was tho most
flagrant case of pure theft, for slie was deceived
tliroHRh the vilest of a}l mctho<*», a religious one.
Weston, a merciless wolf in »h«?e{)'s clothing, a pew-
holder in her oliurch and plausible hypocrite, who
talkeil the golden rule, hut belonged to Satan's host,
easily duped her by his professions, and worse than
that, gave her no ixxssiblc chance of escape. The
widow whose only aid in the battle for existence was
the scanty earnings of her child in the office of those
two sharix-rs, was perhaps the most pitiful one, for
she lost every dollar that stood l)etween her and the
pcwrhouse. There were others entitled to loss con-
sideration. — clerks in stores who, bitten by tho
gambling instinct, hazarded one or two months' wages
ud kwt them; cashiers in two or three banks,
tempted as usual, to use money not their own to speou-
248

! !

THE AFTEKMATII OK A 8WINDLB

240

late with ; and men about town on tlio watch for a
good chance to " take a flyer." Most of theae latter
lost their nionpy in the bucket shops, and by almost
as culpable metho<lg as Weston & Hill, for those who
were buyers of Rockhaven on a margin whrn it went
up to forty and down to nothing in a few hours were
not present in these robbers' dens to take their profits,
and when the fiasco was over, were merely told iu
sudden fall had wijicd them out. Those of more ex-
iwrience in the say of speculation, and who had
" gone short of it," as the phriiae goes, wore of course
sold out or closed out in Roekhaven's wild leap up-
ward, and like most who trust their money in a
bucket-shop keeper's hands, knew nothing about it
until informed tliat they had lost all they invested.
And hero and now it seems a duty to interpose a
word of warning against bucket shops.

Wo enact and try to enforce laws against all forms
of gambling ; we claim the right lo invade the pri-
\ noy of homes, even, whore card playing for money
is an occasional evening's pastime, and the law says
that a gambling tleht is no debt at all. Wo even assist
the loser in gambling by allowing him to sue and re-
cover his loss, when, as a matter of morals, he is just
as guilty as the one who wins ; and yet we allow these
stock-gambling offices to open on all sides.

' 11

8S0

KocxnAvm

■ 1 1

There is not a city of ordinary «ize where half a
dozen do not flourigh, and hardly a country village
that haa not one or more, ready to tempt incipient
•peculator* to invest in the gambler'a chance. They
all do buainess on the same basis, vi«., bet against the
fool who buys or sells on a margin. Thoy do not
actually buy or sell a share of stock; their managers
are merely like the dealers in a faro bank, paid to run
the game. Their sole stock in trade is a leased wire
over which to receive quotations, a handsomely fitted
office bearing the legend, " Bankers and Brokers " (it
should be. Bankers and Breakers), a gilt-lettered
fiction of capital invested — and unlimited nerve !

They know full well that the Iambs who stray into
their den, and by goo<l luck secure a small profit, will
at once grow vain of their speculative skill and in-
vest again. Even if these duiK-s win twice or thrice,
it only resulU in a greater exultation, and the end
is the same — they lose.

It is as inevitable as the tides or the sun to the
majority, and while now and then one by sheer luck
may win at this great gambling game, nine out of
ten will lose, and the keeper of the shop rides in an
automobile while they walk !

If these parlors of tenptation were open only to
men who realized the chances they were taking and

THB AFTERMATH OF A HWINDLE

261

could afford to loie, it would be a different matter;
but all who wish to gamble may etiter, and tlio cashier
of your bank, paid a pittance that is but a prt-iiiiuni
on dishonesty, is liable to be the first one. And when
he, lured on and on by that elusive hope tliat next
time his guess may be right, has falsified books and
made ducks and drakes of yotir money, you wake up
some fine morning to read the old, old story, and learn
that he has journeyed abroad.

And the bucket-shop keeper across the way smiles
softly to himself and says nothing.

And Puck, looking down iiimn us human anta, also
smiles and says, " What fools these mortals be."

The Great Rockhaven Granite Company, only one
out of a thousand others of similar end an<l aim, was
but a mere ripple on the sea of speculation. It was
active while it lasted, it brought sorrow and U'nrs to
many, a small forhme to a few, transferring to tiiem
the money of others, and left dishonor and diwgrace
in ite wake. On " the street " it was a nine days'
wonder how so colossal a scheme could be foisted
upon them and carried so near a successful culmina-
tion, and then, as usual, it was forgotten. Others
as transparent took its place, and so the mad wave of
speculation rolled on in the city.

But on Rockhaven there was rejoicing.

MIOrOCOTY riiSOlUTION TISI CH*«T

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 2)

121

1.8

^i^l&

_J x^PPLIEg IM/)GE li

■— - 1653 Eost Moin Street

^ r^ Rochester. Ne* York 1^609 USA

".li^ (T J) 482 - 0300 - Phone

^^ (7 . 6) 288 - 5989 - Fax

CHAPTER XXXIII

A TOUCH OP HEROISM

When Winn bade good-by to Jess Hutton he real-
ized for the first time how closely his life had become
linked to Rockhaven. The old man, burdened with
the responsibility of twenty thousand dollars safely
tucked under his pillow the night before, had not
closed his eyes in sleep. ' He seemed as much cast
down as Winn. In truth, he was more so, for the
hand of time had swept him beyond the influence of
dollars, and human sympathy and his own feelings
were of more account.

" We, all on us, owe ye more'n we kin ever pay
back," he said when the moment of parting came,
" an' if ye realize how ye stand with us on the island
'n' how glad we'll all be to hev ye back with us, ye
won't be long in comin'. Ye had the chance to rob
lis, an' ye didn't. Instid ye did the best ye could to
save our money 'thout thinkin' much about yer own,
an' that, 'long o' what ye did for the men ez needed
work 'n' wages, will give ye a warm welcome back.
2ta

A TOUCH OF JIEROISM

253

If we could know when ye was coinin' (ez 1 hope
will soon), thar ain't a man, woman, or child in Rock-
haven ez wouldn't be on the dock to meet ye, 'n' the
parson'd want 'em all to make for the church at onct
and jine in singin' hymns."

" I am glad you will all think so kindly of me,"
answered Winn, his heart rising to his throat at this
unexpected tribute, " and I hope soon to be with you.
\Vhat I shall do now, I do not know. I have a good
sum of money now that I can call my own, thanks
to luck and Mr. Page, but as for future business or
occupation, have no plans."

" Ye might come to Rockhaven an' start the quarry
on yer own hook," responded Jess. " There's 'nu£E
on us ez'll be more'n glad to put money in, an' ye
needn't be feared they won't hev confidence in ye.
The hull island comes purty near bein' yourn now,
fer the askin'."

And then the "all aboard," that ends so many
partings, came.

" Don't forgit us, 'n' what I've told ye," said Jess,
with a slight tremble in his voice, as he once more
shook Winn's hand, while his eyes grew moist;
" don't forgit — any on us."

Then the train bore him away.

And Winn, conscious now that a friend as good

254

't!»i|

BOCKHAVElr

.{h

and true as his own father had once been, had opened
his heart to him, turned away, his own eyes also
misty. AnH for days, weeks, and months after,
the last words of Jess Hutton were tender in his
memory.

But the consciousness that he had now twenty
thousand dollars safely on deposit, soon lifted him
into a cheerful mood again, and when he reached his
aunt's home, his spirits were at top notch.

The most surprised and elated person in the city
was that same worthy and excellent aunt. Not a
hint, even, had she received of Winn's arrival in the
city, and the great fiasco " on 'change " the day be-
fore was also unknown to her. When Winn, using
his own latch-key, walked into the sitting room, she
sat by her little table reading the latest Zion's Her-
ald, while near by her pet lap-dog slumbered in a
rocking chair.

" Why, Winn," she exclaimed, springing to her
feet and kissing him fondly, " wh.it has brought you
to the city, and why didn't you tell me you were com-
ing ? Or did you want to surprise the old lady ? "

And Winn, a little proud of his financial success,
answered : " T came here two days ago to surprise
Weston & Hill, and succeeded. So much so that
Weston has left for parts imknown, and I am twenty

A TOUOIT OF HEROISM

255

thousand dollars richer for the surprise. I had to
keep in hiding two days to do it, however."

And then a greater surprise came to Winn.

" Mr. Weston run away," gasped his aunt, grow-
ing pale and oblivious to Winn's twcnty-thousand-
dollar assertion. " What do you mean, Winn ? "

" I mean," he answered coolly, " just what I say.
Weston has robbed his partner and left the town!
The Roekhaven Granite Company gone to smash 1
Stock not worth a copper, and there you are! But
I'm all right, auntie," he added cheerfully, "you
can't lose me."

And then a scene came.

For a moment Winn's aunt looked at him, her eyes
dilated, mouth open.

" The — company — gone — to — smash ! " she
exclaimed slowly, as the awful news forced its way
into her brain. Then she seemed to reel a moment,
and the next sank to her knees beside a ir, her
face in the cushion.

" Oh, my Glod," she moaned, " I am ruined,
ruined, ruined ! "

And Winn, half guessing the cause of his aunt's
despair, was beside her in an instant.

" What do you mean, auntie ? " he begged. " What
do you mean f "

i 4

256

EOCKirAVEN

" All my money," she sobbed, " all my money has
gone! Twenty thousand, all I had, gone, gone,
gone ! " And she moaned again.

Winn, rising, glanced at the table where only mag-
azines and religious papers lay, and at his aunt, still
sobbing at his feet, and then a light came to him.
And it must be recorded, a curse as hearty as it was
profane rose to his lips, and the name of J .^alcolm
Weston was linked with it.

For Winn had known how his aunt had trusted and
believed in Weston, and now the outcome of it was
plain.

A moment more only did he look at the woe-begone
woman at his feet, and then he turned and left the
room, and went to his own upstairs.

Many of us in this world do selfish things, a few of
us do mean ones ; but not to one in a thousand does
the chance come to do a heroic one, and when it
comes, not one in ten is equal to it. We think, we
excuse, we evade, we haggle with our conscience and
selfish impulses, and in the end self wins the day.

But Winn, fresh from the island, where simple
gcod will to all men ruled supreme, and the heart-of-
fering of Jess Hutton still warming his own, was in
the spirit for heroism. As he sat down to think in his
own room, all the years that this good aunt had been

A TOUCH OF IIKROISM

257

a mother to him came back. She was simple, she was
over-pious, she believed all to be like herself, — jjood,
kind, and true. And to Winn she had been all that a
motherly woman could be.

Only for a moment did he hesitate, and then ho
wrote a cheek for the small fortune he owned for a
day, and descending the stairs, handed it to his aunt.

" Come, auntie," he said cheerfully, " don't shed
any more tears over that accursed Weston. You
have been a good mother to me for many years, and
here is your money back."

Then he swallowed a lump in his own throat and
turned away.

Over the scene that followed a veil shall be drawn.

That evening at the tea-table, Winn, almost be-
yond praise now in his aunt's estimation, told the
story of his summer on Rockhaven and what manner
of people he found there, their ways of living, and
all about them, even to their dress. The little church
and its poorly paid minister, whose simple and touch-
ing prayers had reached Winn's heart as none had be-
fore, were also mentioned ; even the two bells answer-
ing one another across the island at eventide, and
the new influence upon his life and thoughts they had
wrought, were spoken of. Quaint old Jess with his
fiddle came in for a share, and the ancient tide mill

258

UOCKIIAVEN

) :ii

and its history as well. The old tower, the bold,
frowning clitfs, and I' . gorge with the Uevil's Oven
opening into it were described. All tlie island, in
fnet, luid nil it contained, except — Mona. And
when, late that evening, Winn's aunt kissed him
good night and retired to her room, she knelt down
and thanked God, who had opened her heart to care
for this son of her dead sister.

In a different mood when he reached his room, and
conscious that his life's fortunes had yet to be
wrouglit, Winn sat down and wrote to Mona. And
so strange a love letter was it, and so misunderstood
by her, that it must be given here.

" Dear little Sweetheart," he wrote, " my life and
hopes seem to have come to a tuU stop and I do not
know what to say to you. My summer's work, and
all my ambitions, as I feared, have ended in one
grand crash. Out of this I saved your uncle and
those on the island who bought stock. I also saved
myself, or, as it turned out, my aunt's fortune, for
unbeknown to me she had been led to invest in Rock-
haven stock and lost all. As she has given me all
that I have known of home since boyhood, I should
have been more than ungrateful had I not taken care
of her.

A TOUCH OF IIEROINM

250

" What my future plans are, I cannot say. Tlio
world is wide, and some place in it for me will be
found. VVIiere it is, or what doing, I know not.

" It is but a few days since I left the island, hop-
ing soon to return, and now it seems montlis. I recall
all the charming hours we have passed togc'ther with
keen interest, and yet they seem to-night like an oU,
old memory, returning even as the scenes of my boy-
hood return when I am desi)ondent."

More than this he wrote, but it need not be quoted,
being merely tender i)hrases and without point.

Mona, trying to read between the lines, as well she
might, imagined it to be a farewell message and a
good-by to herself.

Reading thus, and a false reading at that, she be-
look herself to the old tower, and there, all alone
with her heartache, while the stars looked down in
pity and the ocean moaned close by, she cast herself
upon the cold stones and cried her heart agony
away.

And the letter was never answered.

ii •

'Vi

V f 'I

: la
!:if

ff,

CHAPTER XXXIV

A WOMAN S WILE8

Tub bubble of Rockhaven, the flight of Weston,
the suicide of Hill furnished a few items for the
city press, a little gossip among interested ones for a
week, then passed into history, to be forgottei. by most
people. Page, lionized for a day by other brokers
whose scalps he had saved, resumed his operations
as usual with an increased clientele; while Simi.ions,
the defeated one in this battle of values, was seldom
seen on the floor of the exchange. Jack Nickerson
returned to his wonted existence, speculating a little,
gambling in the club when congenial spirits gathered,
and, as usual, sneering at the weaknesses of all human
kind ; while Winn, growing more despondent day by
day at the mm in the tide of affairs, hardly knew
what to do with himself. Occasionally he w6''-ed past
the door of Weston & Hill's office, now closed by the
hand of law, and glancing at the lepal paper pasted
inside it, muttered a curse and went his way. Some-
times he visited the exchange to watch the unceasing

A woman's WII.EH

861

tossiiiK of stock dice for an lioiir, to kill time ; tlifn to
Page's office to chat with liiiii, and then to the club,
feeling himself le- md less in touch with this grind
of city life as the days went by.

lie lived, too, in daily expretntion of a letter from
Mona, and receiving none, that added to his gloom.
Just why, ho could not understand; and then a
8i)ecieg of pride crept into his feelings, and he itnag-
Jued she might have been cautioned by her mother
not to answer him. He began to 'eel a little hurt at
the thought that this timid girl might feel afraid of
him; and although swayed l.y emotions and seem-
ingly his own when they parted, he feared that on re-
flection she had decided it best to end the matter
thus.

To one who is despondent, all things seem awry,
and Wi -i was now so low do,i-n {n spirits that l.:- was

ready to believe himself of no account to any one

even this simple child of nature whose soul was
attuned to her violin. That Jess was his cordial
friend he felt surt ; but a timid girl, utterly lacking
in worldly wisdom and as wayward in feelings as
the varying sounds of the waves beating against her
island home, was another matter.

Winn's thoughts now were full of bitte.ness.

One Sunday, coming out of church ahead of his

ll!

I ; ■•■I
. 1

26i>

KUCKHAVEN

iiuiit who liad paused to chat with some one, ho
I'ncountered in the vestihulc, dressed in faultlciig fall
costume, a picture of beauty and good taste, — Ethel
Sherman I

" Why, Winn," she said, advancing and extend-
ing a gloved hand, " I am very glad to see you back
again. I've heard all about you and the fame you
hi ^'e achieved and how good you have been to vour
aunt. I must insist that you call this evening and tell
me all about it. I've a bono to pick with you also,
you naughty boy, for not answering my letter."

And Winn, moved as any man would be by such
captivating words uttered by a young goddess in
fashionable raiment, forgot all his old-time resent-
ment for a moment, and answered as any well-bred
and susceptible young man would.

" I am very glad to see you, Ethel," he said cor-
dially, " and it's nice of you to say such pleasant
things. If yon haven't any better amusement for
this evening, I will call."

And call he did, to find this imperious beauty
arrayed in an exquisite evening gown, in his honor,
fairly exhaling sweet smiles and graceful words.
And with them came back, also, all the old-time charm
of her siren voice, her keen wit, her polished sarcasms,
her devil-may-care bon camaraderie.

4 WOUAM'h W1I.EH

263

For two years Ethel Sherman had W>n a daily
thorn in Winn's side. Ue iiad met her occasionally,
when he simply 1m)wc.1 and exchanged tliu civilities
of polite society, hut nothing more. Occasionally his
aunt, 8 born match-maker, had let fall a wonl of
praise for Ethel, the intent of which was pulpul.lo t.
Winn, but in spite of wiiieh he had determined to
put her out of his thoughts. When her letter reached
him on the island, he mentally contrasto her witli
Mona and to the former's detriment, more tiian over
thinking of her as the type '>f a fashionable young
woman sneered at by JS^ickcrson. His illusions re-
garding her had all vanished and he saw lier as she
was, — a beautiful, heartless, ambitious Circe, con-
scious of her power, and enjoying it.

And this evening, seated in her daintily furnished
parlor, and facing the most exquisite adornment it con-
tained, he regarded her as he did the marble copy of
the Greek Slave, perched on a pedestal in one comer.
But Ethel Sherman was not tiio girl to be long con-
sidered marble, whether she was or not; and was just
now piqued by Winn's coolly polite indifiFerence.

" Well, ray dear friend," she said eagerly, when the
first commonplaces had been exchanged, " tell me all
about this unheard-of island where you have been
buried all summer, and this queer old fellow yoii

264

ROOKnAVEN

brought up in the city, and the barefooted fisher maids
you met there, and which one caught your fancy. I've
just been dying to hear."

" You seem to want an entire chapter of a novel in
one breath," answered Winn, smiling. "How did
you find out I brought any one to the city ? "

"Oh, I am still able to read the papers," she
laughed, " and Jack called the other evening. It's all
over the city, as well as your firm's collapse and the
part you played in it. Oh, you have become famous
in a day, as it were, an4 people who have never set
eyes on you are talking about you."

Winn smiled, for what man could resist such
subtile flattery.

" I wasn't aware that I was a mark for gossip," he
said, " though Weston & Hill must have been, and
deservedly. I'm not sorry for Hill, however, for I
despised him, but I rather liked Weston, even after
I discovered he was a rascal, he was such a jolly,
good-natured one."

" So Jack says," answered Ethel, " and happily in-
different as to whom he ' Vndled. It was first come,
first served, with him."

" He served Hill the worst dose," said Winn, " and
it looks as if Hill were the ultimate object of his
plot^ and the rest of us only pawns in his game."

A woman's wiles

S65

"You at least called 'checkmate' to him," an-
swered Ethel, smiling admiration, " but tell me about
the island. That is of more interest to me. The city
end of this afiair is now ancient history."

"Oh, the island is a poem," replied Winn,
earnestly, " a spot to forget the world on and learn
a new life. Its people are poor, but honest, kind, and
truthful; their houses turkey coops, their customs
ancient, their religion sincere, their livelihood gained
by fishing, and the island a wild spruce-clad ledge of
granite with bold sea-washed cliffs and an interior
harbor that is a dream of peace, seldom rippled. There
is an ancient beacon built by the Norsemen on a hill
nine centuries ago, a ravine surpassingly grand with
a cave called the Devil's Oven, and an old tide-mill
at the head of their harbor, where a lovelorn girl once
hanged herself."

" A charming spot, truly," said Ethel, " and if I
had known all this last July, and there had been
a comfortable hotel there, we should have summered
on this delightful island in.stead of on the moun-
tains."

" It would have amused you a week," replied Winn,
smiling, « but not longer. There were no golf linki
or young dudes to flirt with there."

Ethel colored slightly.

266

BOOKHAVEN

.in

" That is the worst of having friends," she said,
" they are bound to gossip about one. I don't mind,"
she added gayly; " I am a flirt and admit it cheer-
fully, but what else are men good for ? "

" Not much, I admit," answered Winn, sarcasti-
cally, " especially if they have money or prospects of
it; and if not, they are good to practise on."

" Now, Winn, my dear fellow, don't emulate Jack
Nickerson," she responded suavely, " the role doesn't
become you. You can be an adorable bear, but not
a barking puppy."

" Jack's not a puppy,'' asserted Winn.

" I never said he was," answered Ethel. " He can
be worse than that; he can be a gossipy old maid,
always sneering, and that is more abominable than
a puppy any day. But tell me about the people on
the island, and which fisher maid you fell in love
with."

" Why should you imagine I looked twice at any
island maid ? " answered Winn.

" Oh, you were bound to," asserted Ethel, laugh-
ing. " You wouldn't be the delightful man you are
unless you did, so tell me all about her. Did she
wear her flaxen hair in a braid and ask from beneath
a sunbonnet, ' What are the wild waves saying ? '
while she stood barefoot beside you on the beach ? "

A woman's wiles

267

" Oh, yes, and chewed spruce gum at the same
time," he responded, also laughing.

" Even when you kissed her ? " queried EtheL " It
must have lent a delightfully aromatic flavor."

Winn made no answer to this pointed sally. In-
stead he stroked his moustache musingly, while his
thoughts flew back to Rockhaven and Mona.
Ethel eyed him keenly.

" Quit mooning," she said at last, " and come back
to Erin. I do not expect you to admit you kissed this
fair fisher maid. It wouldn't be gallant. But you
can at least describe her. Is she dark or fair ? "

"I haven't the least idea," he said, "she was so
sweet and charming; her eyes might have been sea-
green for all I can teU."

^ "You evade fairly weU," rejoined his tormentor,
'but not over well. You still need practice. Now
tell me about this old feUow Jack described as a ' bar-
nacled curiosity.' "

"Oh, Jess Hutton," replied Winn, relieved; "he
is a curiosity, and of the salt of the earth. If there
was any one I fell in love with on the island, it was
he."

" That was fairly weU done," laughed Ethel ; " you
are improving and in time may hope to deceive even
me."

268

ROCKirAVEN

.'i ( tv

ii. ili

" Never," responded Winn, sarcastically ; " you
are too well skilled in the fine art of dissembling.
You almost persuaded me to-day that you were really
glad to see me, instead of anxious to find out all
about Rockhaven and its fisher maids."

" That is unkind," replied Ethel, in a hurt tone,
" and you know it. Didn't I write you a nice letter,
and have I shown the least resentment at your failure
to answer it ? Come now, be nice and like your old
dear self, you big bear. I don't care if you did fall in
love with an island girl. You certainly would have
been stupid not to if there was one worth it, and I
r ■aspect you the more for protecting her. Your friend
Nickerson wouldn't."

And Winn, mollified by this occult flattery, came
near admitting — Mona and all the summer's illu-
sion — for that was Winn Hardy's way. Only one
thing saved her name from passing his lips, — the
fact that no answer had come to his letter. He began
to feel that none was likely to, and that the summer's
idyl was destined to be but a memory like to the sound
of \irch bells in his boyhood days.

Then, while his thoughts went back to the island
and all it contained, he told the story of his sojourn
there, of Jess and his fiddle, of the little church and
its parson, the quarry and his men, of Mrs. Moore

A WOMAN'h WILIS 269

and Captain Eoby and the fishermen who each day
sailed away to return at night
Only Mona was omitted.

And Ethel, listening, became entranced at his re-
cital.

" Your stay there has done you good," she said,
"hen it was ended, '-' and made a broader man of
you. You are not the callow boy you were, and the
heroism you have shown toward your poor aunt
proves it. When she told me, the tears almost came
to my eyes; and while I bow to the noble impulse
you displayed, it was foolish after all. It would
have been wiser to have kept the money in your own
hands and taken care of her. She may be led again
to make ducks and drakes of her money by another
Weston. The world is full of them."

" It didn't occur to me then," answered Winn. " I
did it on a sudden impulse, and now I think you are
right."

And be it said parenthetically that this worldly yet
sincere assertion of Ethel Sherman elevated her
greatlj In Winn's estimation.

" Come, Ethel," he said after a pause, " I want
to forget all this business; now don't say any more
about it. Most likely I acted foolishly — it isn't the
first time, and may not be the last. If you want to

270

BOCKHATEN

cheer me up, play and sing for me. I've not heard
a piano since I left the city."

Ethel, glad of the chance so to entertain him,
complied. Strange to say the song she selected and
rendered, as she well could, with exquisite feeling,
was " Robin Adair." Then followed another of the
same nationality

" I've taken to the old Scotch songs lately," she
said, when she turned from the piano, " and they are
quite a fad with me now. They have so much more
heart and soul in them than modem compositions."

" Give me ' Annie Laurie ' now," suggested Winn,
a shade on his face. And listening well while the
graceful, ring-glittering fingers of Ethel Sherman
leaped lightly over the ivory keys, her sweet voice
gave new power to the immortal ballad of olden time,
while he thought only of one summer day in the cave
at Rockhaven and — Mona.

When he was taking his leave, and Ethel, uncon-
scious of the mood she had evoked, stood beside him
in the dimly lighted hall, she held out her hand.
Her red, ripe lips were upraised, ,i8 'f in tempta-
tion, and her eyes were tender with the spirit of her
songs.

" I hope you have had a pleasant evening, Winn,"
she said tenderly, " and will call again soon. I'U

A woman's wiles

271

promise not to mention the fisher maid any mrre if
you will."

And Winn, glancing into the hright eyes that had
once lured him to a heartache, hdd her hand a
moment and then bade her good night

CHAPTER XXXV

THE WHEEL OF FOBTCNS

Fob weeks Winn lived an aimlegg life without oc-
cupation, which to him meant misery. He walked the
streets to he jostled hy people in a hurry, and wished
that he also was. He looked into shop windows where
dummies stood clad in teautiful garments, and won-
dered how Mona would look if rohed in such. He met
people hurrying home from their work at night and
almost envied them. In his club he felt so ill at
ease that games, conversation, and even the raillery
of Jack Nickerson bored him. He had a pleasant
home, whe. a his aunt always thought of his comfort ;
he escorted her to church with regularity ; read the
daily papers; called on Ethel occasionally, to find
her always the same sweet temptation. She neither
allured nor repelled, but was always the same piquant
and yet sympathetic friend, well poised and sensible,
who judged all men and spoke of them as a mixture
of nobility and selfish conceit in unequal parts, with
the latter predominating. To Winn she sometimes
372

THB WIIBIL OF FOBTCNX

273

talked at though he were still a big boy who needed
guidance, and then again as if he were more than
mortal and out of place in a bad world.

" You are discontented," she said to him one even-
ing, " and out of your sphere among the city men.
You take right and wrong too seriously and are like
an eagle caged with jackdaws. City men are such in
the main, thinking more about the cut of their coats,
the fit of (heir linen, and color of their ties than
of aught else. You are as unlike them as when you
came here a big boy with countryisms clinging to
you and the scent of new mown hay perfuming your
impulses; you were always out of place here, and
the three months on that island has made you more
so."

It was a truthful and yet somewhat flattering por-
trayal of Wjun as he really did seem to her, but it
only added to his discontent.

" What you say may be true enough," he answered,
" but what shall I do ? I csn't go into an office again
and be content, the taste of being my own master
on the island has spoiled me for that. I would go
into some business if only I had the capital, but I
haven't ; and I wouldn't ask my aunt to loan me any,
even under the existing circumstances."

" T wish I could advise you," she replied in the

S74

UUCXIIAVKN

sympathetic tone bo easily at her command. " I cer-
tainly would if I could. But whatever you do, dou't
>ro into the stock gamhling. I re«|>ect you now, and
I might not then."

The time came when she wished that she had re-
frained from that expression.

But a different trend of advice came to Winn later
from Jack Nickerson.

"Why don't you open a bucket shop, my boy,"
said that cynic, " and make some money ? I'll back
you for a few thousand to start, since you were foolish
enough to part with all Page made for you out of
the Rockhaven flurry, and it's a doad sure thing.
Then again you have won quite a little notoriety out
of this Weston & Hill fiasco, and men on the street
say you have a cool, level head. I iell you, open
up one of those joints and let these smart Alecs who
want to get rich quick come n. and lose their money.
If you keep moping arourd another month you will
go daft, or fall in love with Ethel Sherman over
aguin, which means the same. I hear you are a fre-
quent caller there."

" I've got to spend my time somewhere," answered
Winn, rather doggedly, " and Ethel's good company."

Jack eyed him curiously.

" How thtf moth will flutter around the candle,"
he said.

THB WUCXL OV VOBTUM

876

"I'm in no danger there," nMertcd Winn, "bo
don't worry. Onoe bit, twice shy; and aa for tlie
bucket ghop, I'll have none of it. I'd us goon open
a faro bank."

" And why not « " queried Jack. " All the w ,d
loveg to gamble, and niogt of them do in one way or
another. Even the good people who pray can't resiHt
grab bags and fish [wnds, imd until a few ultra prudes
guessed it was gamblinj;, they were all the rage at
church fails. Even now, in society of the best, bridge
whist and whist for prizes, afternoon and evening,
flourishes on all sides. Oh, it's gamble, my bov, go
where you will ; and you might as well take a hand
in it and make money."

" But a bucket shop is disreputable," replied Winn,
" or has that reputation, and on par with gambling
dens in fact, though protected by law. Tt is worse
than those in one way, for men who go in feel forced
to put up margins to save themselves, and in the
end go broke. Look at the euibezzleiiicuts that crop
out almost daily, and nine out of ten traceable to
a bucket shop. The law ought to force them to put
up a sign, ' All ye who enter here will lose.' "

" You have matured rapidly since you came from
the island, my boy," laughed Nickerson, " and now
you are fit to do business. Tut your new scruples

9r«

locxuAviir

■ I I

in your pocket and join the crowd. Only tboM
who make money are considered anybody. And how
they make it matters little. Make it you must,
or walk in this world; and those who walk, aet
kicked." ' "^

And Winn, conscious that a bitter truth lurked in
his friend's wor.1i., went his way more disconsolate
than ever.

But the m, iry of Rockhaven was still strong in
him, and the tycr of Mona aud the heart-burst that
marked their parting an ever present memory.

And no answer had yet come to his letter.

One evening a little later, when a November storm,
half rain, half sleet, made the street miserable, Winn
was pushing his way homeward when he saw a girl,
poorly clad, a thin summer wrap her only extra gar^
ment, looking wistfully into a store window where
tropical fruits temjii-id the passers. He recognized
her at one j as the stenographer who had served Wes-
ton & Hill.

"Why, Mamie," lie said, halting, "how are you
and what are yc i doing here in the storm ? "

"I wa-i just wishing I could afford a basket of
grapes for mother," she answered, smiling at the sight
of a friendly face, "but I can't. I've been out of
work now since the firm failed, you see."

THB WMUI. OK FOnTVNt

27T

" I've wondprod wliat Ix-caino of yon," anid Winn,
his Bvmpatliy aronsod at onop, " and liow jou were
getting on. Wlicro are yon working now f "

" Nowhere," glie annwprpd. " IVo been looking for
a place for two months and can't find one. Mother
gave the firm all hpr money to invest, and it'a
gone, and she is very ill. I am completely dis-
couraged."

Then once more a righteous curse aimed at Weston
almost escaped Winn's lips.

" I am very sorry for you, Mamie," he said, " and
I wish I could help you."

" If you juld only find me a place," she replied
eagerly, catching at the straw of hope, " I should be
so f x'ul. We are very poor now."

1 do what I can for you," he said kindly, " and
mayK I can help you. I, too, was left stranded by
that thief Weston ; " and without another word he
stepped inside the store and, buying a good supply of
fruit, joined the girl outside.

"I am going home with you, Mamie," he said
cheerfully, " and take your mother some grapes. I've
an idea of writing up a history of the Weston & HiU
swindle, and I want her story."

It was the first time he had thought of it, but it
served as a ready excuse. Then with one hand and

:ii4

m
m

¥:

278

BOOKHAVBN

arm loaded with bundles, and linking the other
around the shivering girl's as if she were a child, the
two started toward her home.

"We hare had to move," said the girl, as she
directed their way toward the poorer quarters of the
city, " and I am ashamed to take you to my home.
We have only two rooms now."

" Oh, you mustn't mind me," answered Winn,
briskly. " I am a fellow-sufferer with you now, you
know."

When her h. \e was reached in a narrow side
street and up three fl-'ghts • f stairs at that, poverty
and a woman coughing her life away beside the
kitchen stove told the tale. Winn noticed that the
supper awaiting the girl was of bread, butter, and
tea only.

" It was very kind of you to come, Mr. Hardy,"
said the mother, in an almost tearful voice, when he
was introduced ; " and if you can find a place for
Mamie, it will help us very much."

And then she told her story.

It need not be repeated — its counterpart may be
found by the score in any city where legalized thiev-
ing like Weston's scheme ever dupes the credulous,
and is as common as the annals of simple drunks.
To Winn it was new, for he had no idea his former

THE WHSBL OF FOETUHE

279

employer could be so vile as to induce a poor widow
to invest her all to meet inevitable loss.

And be it said here, that if the world at large
could realize how many sharks are ready to prey
upon them with the tempting bait of countless
schemes, promising sure and rich returns, big interest
for their money, guarantees of all kinds (on paper),
and flanked by long lists of names, they would look
at "farm-mortgage bonds," "gold-mining stocks,"
" oil stocks," " cumulative gold-bearing bonds," and
the whole list of traps set for the unwary, as so many
financial perils.

And be it said also, that if the securities held as
collateral by half the banks could be scrutinized, and
the foundations they rested upon understood by all
the confiding depositors in these banks, a panic would
ensue that would sweep this land of credulity like a
tjrphoon.

Winn Hardy, who by sheer good luck had saved his
aunt's fortune, listening to this poor widow's tearful
recital of her woes, gnashed his teeth at the departed
J. Malcolm Weston and vowed that he would show
him up in the press.

When he bade good-by to the girl and her moiher,
promising to look out for a place for the fonner,
he stopped on his way home at a market and paid

380 BOOKHAVBir

for an ample supply of necessaries to be sent them
on the morrow. More than that, he went to Page
and, telling the tale, insisted that he give the girl a
chance to earn a livelihood.

And to no one, not even his aunt, did he tell w:hat
he had done.

111 ;(

CHAPTER XXXVI

oomo, GoiKo, gone!

Winn Haedt, a gentle child when the hand of
want was stretched out to him, but a Hon in wrath
at all iniquity and injustice, was not long in carry-
ing out his thought to rite the history of tie Rock-
haven Granite Company, and for the so'e purpose of
a warning.

To do so, came as an excuse to protect the pride of
the poor girl who had been his co-worker ; and when
it was done, the editor to whom he took it gladly used
it and, more than that, praised its writer editorially.
Winn, as was his nature, wrote with candor, spar-
ing not even himself or the way he was duped, and it
is needless to say that his article was widely read.
Winn looked for no compensation, but the editor,
keen to discover talent, at once offered him f oosi-
tion as city news reporter on the paper. Anc j his
reward came. It was not over ample, so far as salary
goes, but it was at least an occupation — what he
just now ner '.ed.

282

SOCKBATEN

One morning, when passing the closed office of
Weston & Hill, he saw on the door a notice that,
at two o'clock that afternoon, all the office fixtures
and o'her assets of this bankrupt firm would be sold
at public auction.

As Winn stood there that wintry morning, with
the hurrying stream of people jostling him as they
passed, while he read this business epitaph posted
upon the massive doors, what a grim travesty it
seemed !

He looked at the two nickel plates flanking them,
once kept bright, but now tarnished, upon which
the firm's name in bold black letters still stared at
him, at the drawn c.urtains where " Investment
Securities" in gold still uttered their lie; and
gazing at these outward signs of deception and
fraud, all the varying changes in his own hopes,
plans, and opinions for a six months passed in
review.

And in fancy he leaped back to Bockhaven.

He peeped into the store where quaint Jess Hutton
fiddled in lieu of company ; he waa one of the little
gathering each Sunday at church there ; he saw the
quarry with the men at work, the tiny dooryarJ
with Mona watering her flowers, the grand old gorgn
where the sea waves leaped in, and the cave once

ooiNO, ooiNO, gone!

283

carpeted with feras in his honor, and (most touch-
ing of all) the moment he had parted from a timid
girl, while the moon, rising out of a boundless ocean,
smiled at them.

Now, it was a memory of the past, and he, sore at
heart, with only a few hundred dollars in the bank,
was hunting for news items ct so much a line, and
the " so much " a mere pittance.

Truly, the whirligig of time had made a toy of
him!

For full five minutes he stood, with sinking spirits,
and then passed on.

" I'll b( at this auction," he thought, " and may-
be bid in my old oflice chair for a keepsake. Besides,
it will make an item."

He was there on time and found that a considera-
ble crowd had gathered.

Most of them were brokers or their clerks who
had been in business touch with this defunct firm,
and now came to witness its obsequies. Nearly all
had been losers in Roekhaven but, as stock gamblers
are wont to do, took it good-naturedly and joked one
another about being "easy marks" and "good
things," and looked at this auction as an excellent
object lesson.

The auctioneer, quick f» catch the spirit of his

' i'

284

ROCKHAVEN

audience, saw his opening, and with ready wit ...ude
the most of it. The office fittings — chairs, desks,
tables, etc. — were put up first, and Winn bought his
old chair for fifty cents. Then came the pictures ; and
a framed photograph of Weston, holding the reins
over a fine pair of horses, brought a quarter ; another
of Simmons's steam yacht, a dollar; and then a
crayon portrait of Weston, in massive gilt frame, was
handed to the auctioneer.

" Here we have," he said, " a costly painting of
J. Malcolm Weston himself, and how much am I
offered? It is, as you observe, an excellent picture
of this Napoleon of finance, and certainly cost a
hundred dollars. How much for it ? "

An offer of thirty cents was heard.

" Thirty cents, did I hea ? " he continued, in a dis-
gusted tone, " thirty cents for this magnificent por-
trait! You can't mean it! Thirty cents for a
picture of one who cost some of you many thousands !
Thirty cents ! Ye gods, how have the mighty fallen !
Look at his winning smile, his Websterian brow, his
eagle eye that saw Rockhaven afar ! And his whis-
kers! And I am offered but thirty cents! Why,
gentlemen, the frame cost as many dollars, and think
what an awful warning tiiis picture will bo to most
of you. Think of the beautiful tales he told, the

« (^

oonro, ooiNo, oovvl

28S

great industry he started, the money he spent — your
money, gentlemen, and I am offered but thirty cents!
Why, it's worth a thousand dollars as an object les-
son in finance. Come, don't let this master of the
stock exchange be sold for thirty cental It's a
shame 1 Thirty cents, thirty cents once, thirty cents
twice, thirty cents three times, and sold for thirty
cents! " And the broker who bought it didn't want
it at that

The safe, with all the books it contained, was sold
next, and then the auctioneer, holding aloft an open
deed with its red seal attached said : —

" I now offer for sale the only real, tangible asset
the great Rockhaven Granite Company ever had, a
deed of its quariy on Eockhaven Island. This prop-
erty originally cost two thousand dollars, and was
the sole basis of this gigantic scheme capitalized at
one million ! How much am I offered ? "

A wag bid ten cents, another a dollar. Then came
a bid of fifty. And then Winn, who up to this
time had been a silent spectator of the comedy, felt
a sudden intuition that here and now wac his chance.
He thought of the island, stiU dear to his memory,
of the men to whom his coming had been a godsend,
of Jess Hutton who, at parting, had offered hand
and heart, and of Mona and the little knot of flowers

;*f

S86

BOOKHATSN

i« J

he had onoe kept fresh in a tiny spring that bubbled
out of this same quarry.

And thinking thus, he bid one hundred dollars.

But the auctioneer knew not of Uie fine sen-
timent prompting the offer, and continued his bur-

"One hundred dollars," he said, "one hundred
offered for this property, cheap at two thousand I
What are you thinking of ? "

Then, after a pause, while he waited another bid,
he continued : " One hundred I'm offered for this
splendid piece of real estate, with all its improve-
ments; for this matchless qu' .'y of pink granite,
once called worth a million! Why, gentlemen, have
you gone daft ? Don't you know a good thing when
you see it? It wasn't so long ago when I heard
some of you eagerly bidding thirty and forty dollars
for a single share in this immense property, and now
you won't raise a bid of one hundred dollars for its
total valuation I Is this business ? Is this finance ?
Come, gentlemen, wake up and buy this rich ledge of
valuable granite, going for a song ! Think of what it
has seemtd to you ; what might again be made out of
it ! Think of the thousands of dupes still anxious to
buy fairy tales and pay money for them I Think of
the money you have lost in this one 1

oomo, ooiNo, ooneI

287

"And I am offered one hundred dollars for it I
One hundred once, one hundred twice, one hundred
three times, and — sold ! "

And that auctioneer, really disgusted this time,
stepped down and handed the deed to Winn.

Winn wrote a check for that amount, and utterly
unconscious of how valuable a purchase he had made,
put the deed in his pocket, and left the crowd.

In a way, the whole affair had seemed much like
a burlesque on a funeral, and he a mourner. When
the rest had laughed at the auctioneer's sallies, no
smile came to him, and he bid Reeling that he was
likely to obtain a white elephant

That night, in the solitude of his room, he came
near writing a farewell letter to Mona and enclos-
ing this deed as a keepsake. Only pride restrained
him.

CHAPTER XXXVII

A SOCIAL CTWIO

One evening, a few weeks after the auction, Winn,
in his new occupation, was detailed to report one of
those affairs in high life where wealth gathered to
display its gowns, and fops, in evening dress, utiftred
flattering nothings to beauty in undress. A crush of
fashionable people who ate, drank, danced, simpered,
and smi-ked until the wee small hours and then
went home to curry one another's reputation and
conduct.

Winn, not in the swim, was made duly welcome
by virtue of his errand there, and, furnished with a
list of the ladies' names and costumes by the hostess
(not forgetting her own), was about to depart when
he was accosted by Ethel Sherman.

He had noticed her first, surrounded by gentle-
men, and feeling he might be one too many, kept
away.

" Why, Winn," she said, coming to his side and
smiling graciously as she extended her hand, "I

▲ SOCIAL CTNIC

289

am glad to lee you. How do you happen to be
here?"

"Business," he answered laconically; " I am a
reporter now."

" Vcs, I heard so from your aunt. You have not
favored me with a call now for weeks," she said, " and
you arc a naughty boy to neglect me."

"You are looking charming, as usual," he an-
swered, glancing at her pxquiaito costume, very decol-
lete, and feeling that it was what he must say.

" Of courK-!," she replied, ■' every man feels that
he must say that, but you needn't. Compliments are
like perfume, to be inhaled, not swallowed; so let
the rest utter them, and you can spare me. I'd
rather know how you are getting on."

"Fairly well," he answered coolly, for he had
really kept away from her for weeks from a lurking
sense of danger to his own feelings. " It is an occu-
pation that keeps me busy and makes a living, that
is all. It may lead to something better."

" I read your splendid expose of Weston & Hill,"
she continued, still smiling admiration, " and it did
my heart good. I wish Weston could see it. And
that poor widow whose plight you described — it was
pitiful."

" Only a sample case of the evil wrought by such

990

■OOKaAVKM

M Weston," Winn uumred modestly. " I wish I
knew where he is; I'd mail him a marked copy of
the paper."

Then, as some one came up to claim her for a
dance, she said hurriedly, " I must leave you noMr,
but please promise to call to-morrow evening, I've lota
I want to ask you."

And Winn, yielding to the magic of her luring
eyes, promised and went his way.

It was after midnight before he finished his ool-
umn account of this aifair, and turning it over to the
night editor, left the newspaper o£Bce.

The streets were deserted, only now and then some
late worker like himself hurrying homeward; and
as he pushed on, his footsteps echoed between the
brick walls of the narrow street he was following.
Somehow their clatter carried his thoughts back to
Rockhaven and one night when they had sounded so
loud on the plank walk there. When his room was
reached he lighted a cigar, and as once before, when
he had gone to the tower on Norse Hill to oommune
with himself, he fell into a revery.

Now, as then, it was to balance in his mind one
woman's face and one woman's influence against an-
other's.

He saw Hona as she was then, as she had been to

A MOIAL CTHIC

891

him for monthi, a iweet, gimple, untutored girl, with
the eycf of a Madonna and the goul of a laint. Ho
«iw her in the cave, once fem-carpcted by her tender
thought, and once again heard tlie notea from her
violin quivering in that rock-wallcd gorge.
And now it was all ended !

Then came this other woman's face and form, a

brilliant, aelf-contained, self-poised, cultured exotic,
knowing men's weaknesses and keen to reach nnd
sway them. A social sun, where the other was but a
pale and tender moon.

But Winn's heart was still true to Rockhaven, and
the ecstatic moment, when he had held Mona close in
his arms, still seemed a sacred bond.

" I'll never believe it is to end thus," he thought,
" until I go there and hear it from her lips."

But he kept his promise and called on Ethel the
next evening.

She had been charming always ; now she waa fasci-
nating, for somehow it had come to this conquest-
loving woman, that Winn's heart was elsewhere, and
that was a spur.

Then beyond was a better thought, for the very in-
difference that piqued her also awoke respect, and he
seemed to her, as she had told him, an eagle among
jackdaws.

29S

HOCKHAVEN

\i^\

" I am glad you have found an occupation," she
said, as he once more sat in her parlor, " but I wish
It were less menial. You have outgrown servitude
since you went to the island. What has wrought the
change ? Was it the sea winds ? "

" Maybe," answered Winn, " or constantly looking
out upon a boundless ocean. That always dwarfs
humanity to me. But I have some business to take
up my mind. I was sadly discontented until this
opening came."

" I wish you had kept that money in your own
b-nds,» she said confidentially, "and used it to buy
an interest in a paper.^ When I read your description
of the r«..eption this morning, it seemed to me that
was your forte."

^^ "Thanks for your compliment," he answered,
and I only wish you edited the paper now. But if
you did, my pencil-pushing wouldn't strike you that
way."

" But it really did," she continued, " and the best
of It was what you didn't say, knowing, as I do, how
you regard such affairs. Hiding your own opinion
so well was fine art."

"I wasn't expected to express my views," he as-
serted, "but to flatter you all judiciously; that's
what makes a paper popular."

A SOCIAL CTNIO

293

" And do you think I wanted to be flattered ? " she
asked.

" Certainly," he replied, " you are a voman."
Ethel laughed.

" Personally, you are wrong ; in f .i^craX, right. I
receive so much of it, it wearies me, k- )viiijr as ^ do
how insincere it all is, but most of my sex, I'll admit,
feel otherwise. But tell me why you haven't called
for three weeks ? "

It was a question he could not answer truthfully,
and like all the polite world he evaded it.

" My work is my excuse," he said ; " and then I've
not been in a mood for sociability."

Ethel looked at him long and earnestly, reading
him, as she read most men, like an open book.

" Winn, my dear old friend," she said at last, in
the open-your-heart tone so natural to her, " I made
you a promise long ago and I shall keep it, so forgive
my question. But you needn't fear me. I want to
be your friend and feel you are mine, in spite of the
old score and this new influence. And when you are
ready to trust me, no one in the world shall be more
worthy of it."

Then they drifted to commonplaces: she, as all
women will, relating the gossip of her set and chat-
ting of the latest opera, what was on at the theatres

294

BOOKHAVXir

lii

and the like. Now and then she let faU a word of
quiet flattery, or what was more potent, one by in-
ference; for Ethel Sherman was past-mistress in
that art. And all the while she looked at Winn, smil-
ing deference to his opinions and pointing hers about
others with a keen wit so natural to her.

She played and sang, selecting as once before (and
unfortunately, perhaps) the songs that carried his
thoughts to Eoekhaven.

So charming was she in all this, when she chose,
that the evening sped by while Winn was unconscious
of its lapse.

" I wish you would be more neighborly," she said,
when he rose to go ; " there are so few men in my set
whom I can speak to as freely as you, and besides I
want to watch your progress toward an editorial
ohair. Forget your old grudge, and let us be good
friends once more."

And when he was gone, and she ready to retire
she looked long and earnestly at a photograph of him
she had scarce glanced at thrice in three years. " I
wish he were rich," she sighed; " what a delightful
lover he would make ! "

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE END OP AN IDTL

RocKHAVEN, a c lony by itself, had slowly in-
creased from its one family starting-point until more
than two hundred called it home. In doing this it
had, to a certain extent, sustained the individuality
of its progenitor, Captain Carver ; a strictly honest.
God-fearing descendant of the Puritans; Baptist
in denomination, who regarded work and economy
as religious precepts, home building as a law of
God, and strict morality and total immersion the
only avenues to salvation. Lojt- '.efore the little
church was built he gathered the imilies about

him each Sunday, while he read 5 sections and then
led them in prayer. It was his indomitable religious
will, as well as money, that erected the small church,
and for years he led services there, praying that the
time might come, and population as well, sufficient
to induce a regularly ordained minister to officiate
instead. It did, for he lived to a ripe old age and
the satisfaction of his hopes, and to be buried on the
296

C^.l

S9e

? 'I ?

BOOKHAVBIT

Sloping hilldde back of it. Also to the glory of hav-
ing " Founder of Eockhaven" inacribed on his
tombstone.

He was of Scotch descent, which accounted for
a certain latent taste in his great-granddaughter,
Mona Button. Though stern as the granite cliffs of
the island in his religious connections, regarding
works without faith and morality, without con.ic-
tion as of little value, the shadow of his mantle in
time gave way to a more charitable Christianity.
And though the offshoot of his church, the Free Will
Baptist of Northaven, was never recognized by the
elect of Eockhaven, intermarriages and a mutuality
of interests reduced its separation in creed to one in
name only.

Then, too, the isolation of the island resulted in
the growth of the feudal instinct and a tacit k,. ,, .-
ship, vested in one man whose opinion and advice
was by common consent accepted as law and gospel
and to whom all disputes were left for final settle^
ment.

Captain Carver had been this authority at the
start, others had succeeded him, and when Winn
Hardy came to the island Jess Hutton held the 8C«p
tre. All this is but history, pertinent merely to sh-,w
how it came about that Winn won his way so easily

!..

THE EWD OF Alf IDYL

997

and those otherwise hard-headed islanders followed
Jess Button's lead without question. Winn won him
at the start, and the rest without effort.

But a community, like a family, is upset by an
unusual event, and the starting: of the quarry, the
investment in its stock, and the final return of Jess
from the city, to distribute among them sums so out
of proportion to their original investments, were like
so many stones thrown into a placid mill pond. And
had Winn Hardy returned with Jess, or come later,
h»8 reception would have been like that of a conquer-
in;^ hero.

All this formed the sole topic of conversation for
weeks, and hearing Winn lauded to the skies as a
benefactor, before whom all should bow, had a pecul-
iar effect on Mona. She, poor child, having little
in common with any other and feeling herself of
small account to them or even to her mother, felt her-
self still less so as this wave of universal applause
for Winn swept over the village. Then another
point of pride arose in her mind. While Winn had
sought her society often, it was as a next-door
neighbor and by force of situation, rather than as
a suitor, she felt; and even his visits to the cave
with her were due to a romantic taste and his wish
to hear her play. All this was, in a way, both right

■Fi '

S98

|(:

i I
I '

BOCKHAYEN

and wrong, and yet to Mona, keenly imaginative, it
«eemed entirely true. Then, too, her mother had
made her feel that her violin playing was no credit;
no one else, except Jess, ever expressed a word of in-
terest m her one talent, and poor Mona readily felt
It more a discredit than otherwise. Winn only had
seemed to appreciate it, and to Winn her heart had
opened like the petals of a wild rose.

For a few days after his departure, she lived
in a seventh heaven of tw^et illusions with this one
king among men as her ideal - his every word and
smile and thought, all that life held for her. And
then came his letter which, to her tender heart and
M uature, seemed but a cold farewell message.
He had no plans, was micertain of his future, and
of hers had no concern. This much she read between
the lines, and reading thus, her heart was broken
her courage crushed. How many tea™ she shed
no one knew; how many hours she passed alone in
utter misery of mind, no one guessed. For Mona was
proud as well as tender, and not even Uncle Jess
should know that she suffered.

Now the waning summer, the nearing of chill
autumn, and desolate ice-bomid winter added to her
gloom. Her mother was not a sympathetic com-
panion, mates among the other island girls of her

THB ElfD OF AW IDTL

909

own aye !he had none; only Uncle Jew, her violin,
the cave, the flowers, and the sea. In summer she
had company, in winter none, except Jess.

And now summer was gone And winter nearing,
and poor, timid, tender, friendless Mona was broken-
hearted.

For only a few days more did she go to the cave,
and these visits increased her grieving; it was like
visiting the grave of a dead love. When the Novem-
ber gales swept the island, Mona was made a prisoner,
the store and Jess her only escape. Here she kept
her violin, and here she came to brood over her
I sorrow and fight her own heartache. And here, be

it said, in the company of Jess only did she find
any consolation. He had such genial philosophy,
such a happy faculty for looking upon the bright
side of all troubles, — his own as well as others, —
that it made him a well spring of good cheer.

He was not long in guessinc- the cause of Mona's
despondency, though with his cheerful optimism,
feeling sure that in good time all would come out
right. He also discovered the new ambition that
had come to her that summer, as well as love, and in
his own peculiar way set out to solve the problem.

And here it must be stated that a girl in love and
separated from her heart's choice, having an ambi-

300

BOCKHAVKIT

t.on to ^ out into the world and earn fame as a
■nnsical artist, was a more complex problem than
Jess had previously attempted. Then another factor
entero.1 into Mona's troubles; for young David
Moore, who for years had cherished an open and
loudly voiced admiration for her and between
voyages always sought to woo her, now came home
and, finding the coast dear, renewed his atten-
tions.

He was outspoken and assertive, full of enthusi-
asm and conceit. He lacked refinement, but he was
frugal and o^vned a third interest in his uncle's fish-
mg schooner and was very much in love with Mona.
Worse than that, her mother secretly favored his
suit.

It may seem strange that the same practical sense
of utility that governed her girlhood's impulses and
led her to accept a ready-at-hand love, instead of
waiting for an absent one, now shaped her desires
toward her daughter. Eomance had no place in Mrs
Hutton's nature, neither had love of music. In her
calendar, also, one man was as good as another if
he behaved himself as well, and a present lover for
Mona, if he meant business and could provide a
home, was far better than an absent one, even if
the entire island cried his praises.

THI END OF AN IDYL

301

So she favored young Moore and, in the many
ways a nc her can, gave him opimrtiinities.

Bui to Mona, sensitive, lialf heart-broken, and un-
able to escape this new infliction, it was inexpressible
misery.

So the days and weeks went by, and the snow came
to whiten Eockhaven ledges, the billows thun.iered
unceasingly against them, and the little harbor be-
came frozen over.

And sometimes, in the hours of bitterest desola-
tion, Mona thought of the old tide mill and the girl
who had once gone there to end her heart hunger.

(\i

ill

(if

fi !

I .'I

! !

r f

CHAPTER XXXIX

A OBAT-HAIBBD BOMANCB

There had b»Hjn « time in the long ago of Rock-
havens history when Jess, then a bashful young
man, had jd pretty Letty Carver, now the Widow
Button It had started in her school days, when they
romped barefoot along the sandy shore of the harbor
played about the old tide mMl. whose wheels then
rumbled with each ebb and i^o^. ,r gathered shells on
the bits of beach between the island cliffs. When
the epoch of spelling school and walk home from
Thursday evening prayer meetings came, it was
i-etty whon: Jess always singled out, and though she
now wore shoes, he was not always so fortunate. But
the httle bond of feeling was none the less entrancing •
and when later Jess sailed away to the Banks on his
first iishing trip, he carried a lock of Letty's jet-black
ha>r as a token, and her sweet face was ever present
m h.s thoughts. When he returned, browned but
successful, her welcome seemed to grow in warmth:
and after two or three voyages, and he could now af-

A OBAT-BAIBXQ BOMANCK 808

ford a Sunday .uit when he visited her, goaup whia-
pertd they were likely to make a match. By this
time he had bepm to build the usual air-castlcg of
youth, and though his took the shape of a humble
dwelling, nestling amid the abutting cliffs in front of
which Rockhavex) stood, it was none the lees a palace
to him, with Letty to be its future queen.

And then the war came on and Jess, partly from
patriotism, a little from love of adventure, and more
to earn the liberal bounty his country offered, en-
listed in the navy. Had he been a trifle less bashful
and secured the promise which Letty was then will-
ing to give, this history might never have been writ-
-. in ; but Jess, a splendid young lellow, in spite of
his surroundings, lacked assurance, and all the bond
that joined them, when he sailed away, was the hope
on his part of what mie-ht be if he ever came back.

He did in four jeu. , covered with gloiy, but with
a leg maimed by a bit of shell when under Farragut,
and before Vicksburg he forgot even Letty amid the
inferno of war.

In the meantime, his younger brother, Jethro, had
discovered Letty, and she, practical as always, was
not long in deciding that a suitor with good legs and a
cottage already achieved was preferable to a hero
with a lame leg and no cottage.

804

■OOKUAVXK

Jew bore hi« di«x,mfiture philowphically, m w«,

l«.k, and though deposed to «,e a silver lining back
of a„ e „ud« th.. one he thought beat to avoid and
•o took hn„«elf away. He re.nained away, a r,^lli„g

mo8B, It failed to efface — Letty.

new "/J-"" "u"'""'^'' """"" ^"' °°'' ''"y the amart
new fishing schooner his brother had just built with
h s aid sailed away on her second voyage and never
came back, and practical Letty was left a widow with
one chihl, a modest home on Rockhaven, and naught
eW. As might be. expected, she sent at once L

ul^n" '° °°'^ '""^""^ '^^ ^"""^ °f "»« "t-

bovwtT, ' • "" *^' ^'"''uWering embers of his
^yhood Illusion or the winsome ways of the child
Mona, now four years old, that influenced him no
one ever knew, but he at once announced that he 'had
decided to abide in Rockhaven for the future and
open a .rore. There was one already there, but the

another . nd Jess established it. Once more the gos-
ttat she would, m suitable time, discard her widow's

A OSAT-HAIRKn ROMANCE

305

weeds and become another Mra. Hutton. She did
put on more cheerful habiliment» in due time, but
remained a widow .till; and though Jogs wa8 n fre-
quent caller, usually walking to churfh with her and
Mona on Sundays, he continued, as he had started,
to live by himself over his store.

Neither were the gossip: enlightened as to the fi-
nancial standing of the widow, or how much had
been laid away by her husband, or her means of a
livelihood.

Jeas knew, however, and .Tesg only ; but ho was the
last person to ii..part such data to a curious public.
What they did see was that he nt once assumed a
fatherly protectorship over his little niree, and she
became his sole charge and care in life. Though she
ate and slept at home, tripped alone to school, and to
church each Sunday hand in hand with Uncle Jess,
his store was her playhouse and his love her happiness
until girlhood was reached. Often on suiiuuer days
he left the store, uttorlv (!i.=iregarding trade, and with
her took long rumbles over the island, hunting gulls'
eggs and gathering shells, flowers, or berries. He
built her a boat and taught her to row it in the little
harbor, talked to her for hours of the great world and
its people, of the planet* and their motions, of right
and wrong, of religion and God. He aided her in

S; t

806

BOCKHAVEW

her lessons, teaching her more and faster than she
learned at school; and when her fingers could reach
across the strings of his old brown violin, he taught
her the lore of its wondrous voice.

And so the happy years of her girlhood passed,
until now, a woman grown, she had learned the lesson
of loving, and had come to him with her unspoken
plea for help. Never had she appealed to him in vain,
and never would, so long as his keen mind was active
and heart normal. For weeks he pondered over this
most diiBoult of all problems, and then he acted.

"I've got a leetle matter to talk over with yer
mother to-night, Hona," he said, " an' if ye don't
mind ye might go an' make a caU on one of the neigh-
bors. It's a sorter peculiar business 'n' it's better
we're 'lone till it's settled."

And it was " peculiar," and so much so that Jess
talked for one hour with Mrs. Hutton in an absent-
minded way, while he studied the cheerful open fire,
cogitating, meanwhile, how best to utter what he had
to say, while she sat sewing diligently, on the oppo-
site side of the sitting-room table."

" Letty," he said at last, " her ye noticed Mona
hain't been overcheerful the last three months, an'
seems to be sorter broodin' over suthin' ? "
"I hare, Jess," replied Mrs. Hutton, looking up;

A OBAT-HAIRED SOMANCE

307

" and it'a aU due to notions that Mr. Hardy's put
into her head 'bout her playin' an' praisin' her so
much.^ I've knowed all 'long her wastin' time
fiddlin' wouldn't serve no good purpose in the long
run."

It wasn't an auspicious opening to the subject up-
permost in the mind of Jess, but he paid no heed to
it. " Letty," he continued calmly, " fiddlin' hain't
nothin' to do with the state o' Mona's mind, 'n' if
ye'd watched her as clus as I hev, ye'd know it. Do
ye 'member when ye was a gal how Hitty Baker, ez
used ter live up to the north village, got crossed in
love 'n' kept broodin' on't until one day she was
missin,' an' 'bout a week arter they found her hangin'
in the old mill ? Thar's no tellin' what a gal'll do an'
when she'll do it, if she gits to broodin' over sich
matters."

" I hope you don't think Mona, brought up as she
has been, will be such a fool as Hitty Baker was,"
rejoined Mrs. Hutton, sharply. " Mona's got more
sense."

" 'Tain't a matter o' sense," Jess retorted quickly,
"it's a matter o' nater 'n' 'magination, 'n' the more
o' them peculiarities a gal's got, the more onsartin
she is apt to be, 'n' ez I said, Mona ain't herself these
days, 'n' unless suthin's done to chcnge the current o'

livl

308

BOCKIIAVEW

:; ■ :

■}

her mind, fust thing you'U knd, some day, she's a
misain'."

"That's all your notion, Jess," answered Mrs.
Hutton, now more aroused than she was willing to
admit; "an' if Mona'd listen to Dave Moore, as I
want her to, he'd soon cure such whims."

"Did yer mother ever make ye take catnip tea
when ye was a gal, Letty," responded Jess, laconi-
cally, " an' how did ye injie the dose ? " Then, not
waiting for an answer, he continued, " Dave's catnip
tea to Mona, 'n' I tell ye it's better ye quit dosin' her
with Dave, 'n' purty poon, too. She's nobody to go to
but me, an' I know how she feels, 'n' I don't think ye
do."

" Have you any better medicine t» advise ? " came
the query, as Mrs. Hutton laid aside her sewing and
looked at Jess.

" I hev," replied Jess, firmly, " only it'll take both
on us to give it, 'n' that's what I come here for,
Letty. Ye know how I feel 'bout Mona, an' one o'
these days she'll come into all I've laid by. But
that's no savin' grace jist now."

" An' what'U savin' grace jist now be, I'd like to
know," queried the mother. " Ain't helping me and
having company when she likes, all that's needful to
take up her mind ? She's wWmsical, an' that young

A OSAT-HAIBED EOMANCE

309

feller Hardy's put notions into her head she'd be bet-
ter off without."

Jess was making scant progress toward his ulti-
mate object, and realized it — also that sentiment
was a matter quite beyond Mrs. Hutton's ken.
" Letty," he said at last, almost in desperation, " I've
stood by ye 'n' Mona purty middlin' well fer quite a
spell now, hain't I ? an' ye'll 'low I kin see a hole in
a grinstun if thar is one, 'n' what I've sot my mind
on doin' for Mona'll be the best fer her in the long
run, an' that is, we take her away from here 'n' give
her a chance in the world."

Mrs. Hutton looked at him in amazement, realiz-
ing not at all what he had in mind.

" How can we do that ? " she questioned.

" Thar's only one way," he answered hastily, with
a now-or-never determination ; " I know I'm gittin'
'long in years 'n' one o' my legs ain't workin' well,
an' the only thing ye kin bank on, Letty, is my heart's
in the right place 'n' my feelin's toward ye hain't
changed a mite in forty year, an' — an' if ye're
willin' to chance it, Letty, I'll do all I kin to make
ye happy."

A woman is seldom surprised by a proposal, but
Mrs. Hutton was. For fifteen years now, since she
had been a widow, Jess had seemed like a good

810

BOCKHAVXN

brother, which in truth he had been in aU ways, and
never once had she surmised he cared for a nearer
kinship. Then, as she looked at him, his kindly face
aglow with earnest feeling, his keen eyes beneath
their shaggy eyebrows questioning her, for one in-
stant her heart quivered. Then backward over the
flight of time her memory leaped, until she saw her-
self a laughing, care-free girl once more, with life
opening before her, and this same good friend and
brother, grateful for her every word and smile of
favor. Then, too, came a little nagging of conscience
at the way she had ipiored him on his return, a limp-
ing hero, and ..w he had never once reproached her
for It. And f, IJowing that, the heaping of coals upon
her head when he, coming to her rescue in the hour
of poverty and bereavement, had been the only friend
she had to lean upon. AU the years of his tender
thought and care, all his wise counsel, aU his unselfish
givmg, all his countless deeds of love and forethought
came back now in an instant, like a mighty wave of
feeling, sweeping all her pride and will before it
And as she bowed her face, covering her eyes with
one hand to hide the tears she could not control, once
more he spoke.

" ^"J''" ^« 8»'d, "ye needn't mind answerin' jist
now. Think on't, an' to-morrow or next day tell me.

A OBAT-HAIBEO BOMANCB 311

Thar ain't no need o' hurry. I've waited quite a
spell now, an' a day or two more won't matter."

" It's absurd," she said at last, when the tide of
feeling ebbed, " and everybody will say so."

'"Tain't their funeral or weddin' either, is it!"
he answered. "An' mark my words, Letty, thar's
more on 'em here ez'U wish us well than ye think."

But when he came to go she said, " Why didn't you
ask me forty years ago, Jess ? "

" 'Cause I was a durned fool 'n' dassent," he an-
swered, " but I've outgrowed it now."

'in

CHAPTER XL

A OOOD SXITD-OFF

Out of the many weddings inevitably occurring
on Rockhaven but few ever attained to the impor-
tance of a trip to the mainland. The sense of utility
among them, the need of every dollar toward home
furmshing, and t^e practical side of life always
uppermost in the minds of all left no place for sen-
timent and honeymoon.

But when it became known, as it soon did, that
the youthful romance of Jess Hutton and Letty
Carver had finally culminated, and that the universal
opinion and expectation of what they would do when
Jess returned to the island was about to be realized
a wave of enthusiasm and friendly interest swept
over Rockhaven.

And, furthermore, when it was learned that Jess
was to sell his store to Captain Doty, and that he
and his bride and Mona were to spend a few months
in the city, the excitement knew no bounds, and when
Sunday came and the three, now conspicuous ones,
SIS

A GOOD SEKD-OFI'

313

walked to church as usual, it was to receive an ova-
tion of good wishes and congratulations, and so
persistent were all in good will that, when church
was out, the entire congregation crowded around
them.

To Mona it came as the surprise of her life, and
went far to change the current of her thoughts and
make her forget her own troubles.

" I can call you papa now, can't I, Uncle Jess ? "
she had said, when he had told her; and hugging
him like a child she had thus made his heart glad.
It all seemed as a matter of course to young and
old alike, and as the days went by it began to dawn
on Jess that he had not only been a " durned fool "
forty years ago, but continued to be one for the past
fifteen.

It had been decided by them to have a quiet wed-
ding at home, and the day set barely long enough
ahead to give Mrs. Doty, the dressmaker, time to do
her part; but Kockhaven, hearing of it, objected,
and the next Sunday evening a committee, headed
by Captain Hoby, invaded the privacy of Mrs. Hut-
ton's home.

" We hev cum," said the jolly master of the island
steamer, addressing Jess in particular, and Mrs.
Hutton and Mona in general, " to convey the good

{■
t
»

I:,

814

liOOXRATIV

wiBhes o' everybody here to yon folk, aa' wk ye
to hev yer weddin' in church «> ter give „a Jl
chance to show our good wiU and how much we think
o ye by be,„' pre«,„t. It .i, the nniv.rsal feelin'
We, he co„t,„„ed, waving hi« arm, as if to include
the entire .sland, "that ye both desarve it, an' we
«n t gom' to 'low ye two ter jin git hitched an'

feel the best's none too good fer ye both, and we
hev come to ask ye to let us all jine in and gin ye

no "f T, " f "'"^"«- I -ght as well Si, ^e
now, Jess," he added, looking at that worthy, "L

aU fee fer all yer good deeds toward young and old

b!L t?:i'"'^* "°''^"' '"'"* ''^ '^^y'' '"" -e

back to be one on us, up till last summer when ye
saved us our money on that stock bizness. We don't
bkme the young feller neither, and if ever Le cums
back, we'U all jine in givin' him a welcome as well
But now we absolutely insist we be 'lowed to start
ye^_fa:r, and in style, in the new step ye two air

And "start them fair" they did; for although
4e snow lay thick on the granite ledges of iJk-
haven when the day came, and cheerless winter
reigned, there was no lack of cheer in aU that was

A oooo rairo-OFF

SIS

Bald and done. First, a hundred pairs of willing
hands transformed the church into a bower of green,
and since flowers were not to be had, wreaths of
spruce twigs, tied with white ribbon and ropes of
ground pine, were used. Then an arch of green,
wound with strips of white silk, was erected over the
gate, and the walk up to the church was carpeted
with spruce boaghs. The only pleasure vehicle on
the island, an ancient carryall, also decked with
green and white, was pressed with service to con-
vey the honored couple and Mona to church, now
heated to suffocation and packed solid with the island
population, while some unable to get in waited out-
side. Then, while the Kev. Jason Bush was uniting
the happy pair, a dozen young men, unable to curb
their enthusiasm, unhitched the horse from the
carryall, and when they came out drew them back
to the house. And then, after the two hours of
reception and hand-shaking had expired, full fifty
men were in line to draw that unique chariot to the
boat.

" It is a wonder ye didn't set out to take us on yer
backs," asserted Jess to the crowd on the wharf, when
he alighted ; " but all this fuss has warmed our feel-
ings toward ye all more'n words'U tell."

And when three times three cheers had echoed

1 II

BOCXHAVXir

■ I

back from the now dewrted quarry the l.VI ♦

uispersed, for weekg after the gol« »/%«■•„

= r^r^•r•■*^-"-
Bleet, looked likeT '• """"^ ^^I' ""^^n
ebh«I ^ ^ ^^"'''' monument; the tides
ebbed m and out the half-iced over harbor fhl
beat with sullen «,ar into the g^ ^ ha „o"""

A OOOD KBNO-OFV

317

discuss fish and fishing; also whether his all-win-
ter's absence was likely to result in the opening of
the quarry or not. Then, too, in this new. bureau,
.Vinn Hardy and Mona came in for a share of gossip,
and many a sumiiso as to their future was ex-
changed. For they had been noticed many times
together, and Mona's visit to the city might mean
much. No one had any data as to Jess Button's
future intentions or whether Hardy was likely to
return ; and yet, so well did ho stand with them, and
so hopeful were they that he would once more open
the quarry when spring came, that they readily be-
lieved it would come about.

Of the Rockhaven Granite Company collapse
they knew not, for daily papers never reached
the island, and Jess for reasons of his own kept
silent.

The only unhappy one, however, was David Moore •
and he recited his woes in characteristic fashion to
all who would listen. He had little idea of the pr<v
prieties, and as he had almost shouted his love from
the housetops, 80 now he declared his disappoint-
ment as loudly.

"It's my private 'pinion," he asserted, "they
lugged Mona off just to spite me and get her out o'
My sight. I think it's a dam mean trick, and I don't

S18

■ocKHAVjeur

e^whoknow..tl I kin .ee through the game, .nd
they calculated tddn' her to the city 'nd give that
teUer Hardy a chance to gpark her," and ho chewed
L.. quid with an i„crea«Kl vigor, BUggeative of how
he would like to acrve hia rivaL

CHAPTER XLI

■Hf WDN0ERBABE8 PBACLIIN

Fbitz QiisLiKO, who for many years had liyed in
two rooms, second floor, No. 10 Amity Place, was
•hort, fat, and bald. Each morning he arose at seven,
went out to an adjoining caffi where German cookery
was served " twenty-one meals for three dollars," as
sUted on its bill of fare, and returned to his domi-
cile, glancing at the small sign, " Violin Lessons,"
placed above the upper bell, and mounting the two
flights of stairs, awaited in his office, sitting room
and parlor combined, the few pupils who came his
way. At noon he absorbed another of the " twenty-
one for three dollar" productions of culinary art,
washed down with a stein of foaming beer, and then'
if it were matinfe day at the Alhambra Temple of
Vaudeville, betook himself thither, where he played
second violin. Each evening, from the opening in
September until closing time in June, he was at
his post, sawing away like the machine he was and
as devoid of sentiment. When he escaped the Alham-

319

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BOOKHAVBIT

'i ' (

bra, ,t was to join hi. cronies in a convenient saloon
where pinocle, beep, and choice Teutonic gossip re-
lieved the monotony of his existence. Year in and
year out he was the same phleg,„atic, good-natured
Dutchman, and lived the same unvarying and emo-
tionless existence. Of the great Rockhaven stock
scheme he had never heard, and would not have un-
de«tood it if he had. Of " the street " and its mul-
tiplicity of deals where " to do " the other fellow and
not let him « do " you was the golden rule, he was
equally innocent - a drop in the throbbing artery of
human existence.

And then, one winter morning, Fritz returned to
h.8 lair to find awaiting him a strangely clad man
and 8 yomj^ half-scared girl.

"I'm told ye gin lessons on the fiddle," said the

eT^al."" '^ "" ^°' ^'"" """' *° ''^'^ y« ''' *!"«

Fritz bowed low, conscious that a pair of magnifi-
cent eyes were watching him.

" It vash mine broveshion," he answered, « und von

tollar each ish de brice. Ish de lady to be de pupils f "

Shes the one," came the answer; "an' I want

ye to teach her all the frills, V yer money's ready

an waitin' any time." ^

" ^^ "''« ''°n peginner ? » came from Fritz.

BIN WUNDEBBABES FRAULEIN

321

"Wal, sorter, 'n' sorter not," replied the man;
" my name's Hutton, an' this ere's my niece. Miss
Hutton, an' I've lamt her to saw just a leetle to
start her off, ez it war. If ye'd like, she'll show ye
what she kin do with a bow. Play sutliin' slow, Mona,
fust," he added as a violin was handed her, " till ye
kinder ketch yerself, an' then suthin' lively."

Mona somewhat nervously complied, and gaining
courage as she forgot where she was, skipped over a
half-dozen of the familiar Scotch airs she could
play best, while the eyes of Fritz twinkled.

"She vash no peginner," he said elated; "she
vash blain' alretty yet very mooch." And seizing a
music-rack and spreading a lat^ composition upon
it, he added, " Ef de lady vill blease blay dot, ve'll
see vot she can do."

"Ye've got'r now, perfessor," interposed Jess,
" she can't read that music."

But a surprise was awaiting him, for though half-
scared Mona hesitated and made a few slips, she
played the piece through to the end without a halt.
"Why, girlie," exclaimed Jess, "I'm proud o'
ye. I didn't think ye cud do so well. Now, perfessor,
ye kin take her in hand ; 'n' mind ye don't let up
on her till she's lamed the hull biznes, fer fiddlin's
goin' to be her futur* perfession."

S23

HOOKIIAVIS

That night, when Fritz had once more escaped

rapid fire jargon with which he related hie mom-
2-P-ence, he would have heard a marvSlZ

"Mein Gott in Himmell " Fritz exclain,ed, after
^e fourth glasa had been emptied, "but she Cd
7* «-h feehn's und such eyes dot mit me made suL
strangeness feels. Ach, but she vas a vender. "

And as time passed on, each of the two days a
week when Mona came to take her lesson only s^^ed
t. mcrease that " voider," f„r now that her [1^;^*^
had worn away, the genius that lurked in her fin«^«
asserted itself In technical art she was as ;r a
pup.], but .n the far more impressive art of in Jra
t^nand egression, so natural.her,she had na:::t

i'ntz to his cronies, «und ven she looks at me I
forgets meinself." ^

Fntz, who seldom had any; and straightway he be-
gan to nurse it ^ "' °^

" Ef she so Ways mit mein vioUn, ven I haf heard

BIN WUNnKRHABES FBAULEIN 323

dat music aU mein life, vot viU beoplej dinks who
vash to hear her on de stage? » he said to himself.
" I viU say nodding und make some surbrises by and
by." ^

That Mona had the same secret ambition he knew
not, and most likely it were as well he did not. But
the long upward path to her goal was not an easy
one, for if Fritz had lacked emotion, he excelled in
detail; and each time Mona forgot, as she so often
did, it provoke. I expressions from him that tinged
her cheeks with humiliation.

"I have much to learn," she answered almost
pitifully, whenever her uncle asked of her progress,
" and so much to unlearn, it seems discouraging."
" It'll come easier bimeby, girlie," he would re-
spond cheerfully, "the fust lesson in anything is
alius the hardest."

But the vexations of tuition were only a small
part of Mona's burden; for as the weeks went by,
and she became accustomed to her new life and sur-
roundings, the old heartache returned, and as her
uncle often insisted that she and her mother go out to
some evening entertainment as a break in the quiet
boarding-house life they led, a new fear assailed her.
What if on street car or in theatre lobby she should
suddenly meet Winn Hardy! His name had not

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824

BOOKHAVBN

been mentioned f.r many months, and it was as if
ne were dead.

loving, and ,n Us place came a new inspiration, an
amb.^on so broad, so uplifting, so full of possiWIi-
|es, that even the voice of love was stilS. At
nnes the face of Winn would return to her, however

and always bringing a thorn.

"He is what he said all his world were," she

would say to herself, "selfish, fickle, and heartless.

He wished to flatter and amuse me and himself as

well, but that was all." And then the moment he had

At times she hoped that she might meet him some
d y, just to give one look of reproach and pass on
without a word; and then she dreaded to do so be-
heving herself powerless to resist her own longi^
F^hng thus a sense of the wrong he had done hS,

las that one sweet moment, - all came back again.

either. By night, thoughto of him haunted her pil-
low, and whenever she set foot out of their temporary
home, no matter where she went, and until she w.^
safe ,n it again, that pecuHar dread w«, with her

EIN WUNDEKBARES PHAULEIN

325

She did not know that during all these months
of her suspense, Winn Hardy, discouraged at the
utter failure of his ambition and hopeless of his
future, was not only doing his best to put her out
of his thoughts, but battling for another foothold in
life. Forget her, or the obligation whispered a
Hockhaven's wave-washed cliff, he could not and did
not ; but in the hard grind of life and competition of
wage-earning, love plays only a minor part. Even
less so with Winn than most, for he distrusted all
sentiment, even in himself.

Few have the scope to judge another from that
person's own viewpoint of needs and impulses ; and
Mona, untutored in the ways of man, was less compe-
tent than many.

To her, the words " I love you " were a sacred ob-
ligation, far above all selfish needs and vulgar money
making and, like the glittering star of fame, an in-
spiration.

It had been sweet to her in those summer days,
but the real star of fame was now rising in her hori-
zon, and the lesser one slowly fading away.

She was fast losing her old timidity, and as each
day she felt herself gaining a better mastery over her
violin, the darling wish of her new ambition grew
stronger.

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ROOKHAVKH

And then another influence came to her aid for
Ph «,c Fritz, in who. life the mechanical d„;
o each evem„g^« p,ayi„, ,„d ^^, ^„^.^.^, ^^^^ ^

for M " r''' °°'' ""'• ^^''^ *o ''«'» h" pupil

as the discoverer of a genius. And more than Tat
as her eyes began to work their speU upon hi ,le
hope of love entered his heart. '

"Ah, Mees Button," he would say to her when
her lesson had been ^ndered. "you haf deT'sptr
der soul of der Maying alretty yet, and «,.. day ^ 1'
haf h:m and der vorld viU listen entranced; '^^d
^3 httle eyes would twinkle and rotund fa,L gL
^th an enthusiasm that was like wine to Mona

And now another brand of fuel was added'to the
fire of W amb.tK.n, for a great singer's appearance
•n the city was heralded in the press and Jess aT
ready warped into the world's ways of drel anl
amusement, took Mona and her mother to hTr th"s
operate ,ta. They had already visited most of the

of meeting one, the sight of whose face she knew
would seem ike a knife thrust, she was graduX
ove^omingthat. At first a timid girl and^^tra^r

«m WUlTOBBBAIMiS FRAULBIN 327

to the city ways, her keen and ready observation of
them had made rapid change in her self-possession.
Then, too, the difference in her own and her mother's
wardrobe had been a help, for Jess had spared no
money in his new role of husband and father, and
80 far as dress went with all three, no observer
would realize that they came from an out-of-tht^way
island, where garb and deportment were unknown
factors in life.

But that evening at the opera, with all ite attendant
excitement of richly gowned womankind whose decol-
lete costumes and sparkling jewels became a revela-
tion to Mona, the handsome men, the exquisite music
aie wonderful singing, and the chief star, ablaze with
diamonds, bowing and smiling as wreaths and baskets
of costly flowers were passed over the footlights to
her, wrought a spell upon Mona as nothing else could
have done. She was amazed, entranced, overwhelmed
intoxicated ; and when the seclusion of her own home
was reached, the reflective heartburst of feeling came.
" Father," she whispered, her face aglow, when she
was about to give him the usual good-night kiss, " if
I could stand before an audience, as that singer did
and thnll them, as she did to-night, I would be will-
ing to lie down and die."
" That's a good speerit," he answered, smiling, his

838

BOOKHATXir

«ght better feel ye'd like to live 'n' keep on doin' it,
n make em pay ye good money, an' p.« up flower,
on top o' that." Which sage observation perh.p, beat
illustrates the difference between a genius and a phi-
losopher. ^

That night, sleep was slow in reaching Mona's pil-
low, and when it came she dreamed that she was stand-
ing before a vast throng and suddenly, impressed by
the fear of them, sinking into unconsciousness.

CHAPTER XLII

THE EOAD TO THE TEMPLE

To Mona, reared beyond the world of wealth and
social custom, the great city she was now in seemed
a monster hive. An endless tangle of crowded streets,
of pushing humanity, and towering buildings. The
ceaseless din of street cars and rumbling teams, the
people who elbowed her aside as they hurried on,
the vehicles that halted not when she crosses a street,
the grand ladies alighting from their carriages and
sweeping by her as if she was without right; and
worse than all these, the apes who ogled at her on the
street, and even foUowed her to her home, — each and
aU became a teacher that taught her self-reliance.
She grew to look at the great city as it did at her.
without feeling and without interest. They cared
not for her right, or her life even ; why should she for
themf It was the best education possible, and im-
'ted a cwtain indifference N>ward everybody and
> '.ything, and hardened her, in a way.

i'hen Frite, with his little scheme, witered iMto

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BooxHAvnr

her education, and one day, after he bad asked her
to play some of her best selections, a stranger stepped
out from an inner roam to be introduced to her as the
manager of the Alhambra Theatre.

" My friend Geisling has told me about you. Miss
Hutton," he said, " and I wished to hear you play as
you naturally would, so I asked to be kept in hiding
to hear you. Yon have a decided talent, and if you
have the courage, I think you could do a musical
turn and do it welL If you will come to the Alham-
bra to-morrow at ten with my friend here, we will
give you • reheargial."

And Mona felt as if she were at that moment fac-
ing an audience I

"I have an ambition to play weU, and some
day in public," she said faintly, and hardly realiz-
ing how it all came about, " but not yet Oh, no,
I wouldn't dare," and she looked helplessly at her
teacher.

" Ah, Mees Hutton, but you viU," he said excit-
edly, " und your fader said you vill, und dat eet vas
to be you broveshion, und you vill to blease me try, I
dinks," and he placed one hand upon his heart and
bowed low.

"Oh, not yet, no I no!" exclaimed Mona, her
heart sinking, as she stood face to face with her

iS ■

TH« ROAD TO Tit* TEMPLB

881

" I Bin not ready yet and

longed-for opportunity,
haven't the courage."

" That 18 but a mere trifle, Miw Hutton," an-
swered the manager, looking at her saintlike eyes,
her sweet face, rounded shoulders, and swelling
bosom; and onlculating their commercial value for
stage purposes to a nicety. "A mere trifle; you
have the face and form, you play with exceeding
grace and delicate expression, no doubt due to your
native talent, and are sure to please. All you need is
to forget that you are playing to an audience, and you
will win a storm of hands."

Then, like a shrewd man of business, he began po-
litely to question her. Where she came from, who
taught her first, and how she came to wish to play in
public? In ten minutes he had grasped her entire
history.

" It is not necessary," he said finally, to reassure
her, " that you make your first appearance at once.
Come to the theatre to-morrow and look us over. I
feel sure you will succeed and win for yourself a
great name. And, by the way, I'd like a photograph
of you in evening dress cut low."

Then, as if the matter were all settled, and this
new attraction for his vaudeville stage already en-
g«ged, he bowed himself out

■1^1

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889

BOOKHATlIf

And Frit* beamed.

"Ein grand chance, Mee. Hutton, an' der great
luck you haf, „„d it va. mein alretty yet," ho aaid,
und you vill got dc poople craxy ,nit your blayin',
und 1 vag your teacher ! "

And he came near then and there going down on
bu knees and declaring his passion.

When ilona reached her hon>e she was flushed and
trembling with excitement. " Oh, f,ther,» she said
to Jess, " they want me to play at the theatre, and to
come to-morrow to trpr it with no one there; and he
wants my picture, and I am scared half to death"
which incoherent speech can easily be excused.

"I don't approve on't an' never have," said her
mother, severely. « It ain't a girl's place to be fid-
dhn an fore i^ople at that. I don't believe in it."
Now, Letty," answered Jess, pleasantly, "don't
^ to disoouragin' the gal first gOH,£F. We've threshed
that «traw all over long 'g„, '„' don't say no more.
The time 11 cum, 'n' soon, too, when yo'll feel mighty
proud of Mona. We'll fix ye up, girlie," he added,
addressing her, " with one of them low-cut gowns -
not too low, but jist nice 'n' modestlike, - 'n' we'll
both o' us be thar to take keer on ye an' fetch flowers
home fer ye." And that subject was disposed of
But Mona scarce closed her eyes in sleep that

THl BOAD TO TUB TBMPU! 333

night, «„d when, with Je«s and her teacher to earo
for hor, .he entered the staRc door of the Alha.nl.rn
at teu the next day, a new world opened before her

It. entrance waa a tangle of painted «oe„ery, bean-
tiful on one aide, dirty and tobaeoo-aaincd on th,
other. A dozen stage carpenters and helpers were ..t
work with hats on, and never even looked at Vr
The stage seemed a cold, cheerless bam, as Uv^c as
the seating part, and a chaos of stage proporUe. of
all sorts and shapes. A flat, painted tree Lau.,
against a piano, on top of which was a wooden ...k-
A roll of carpet lay across a desk, and a coil of dirtv
rope and an imitation fireplace were on top of an
elegant sofa.

Then the manager appeared, coatless, but with hat
on.

" Ah, good morning. Miss Hutton," he said not
even noticing Fritz or her uncle; "glad to see you
though it's a little early. Wk around and make
yourself at home, or I'll show you to a dressing
room. We will hear you play presently."

And glad to escape from the cheerless spot, Mona
signified that she would wait his bidding in a private
room.

It was a half-hour ere he appeared, and Mona'a
stage training began.

■a

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334

BOCKHAVEN

She was iMtrnoted how to step out from the wings,
where to halt on the stage, how to bow, to atep aid^
wise and backward ; and when these lessons had been
learned, the manager with a few friends and Jess
and her teacher took seats in front, and she walked
out once more with her violin. She had expected to
be badly scared, but it was all so matternof-fact, and
her deportment considered as of more importance
than her playing, that wher it came to that it was the
easiest of all.

Twice she played the two selections Fritz had de-
cided upon, the first, a medley of Scotch aire, and for
an encore, the gem of all she knew — " Annie Lau-
rie."

When she concluded each time, a sincere ripple of
applause from the group of men composing her «,! ii-
ence encouraged her.

" She'U win 'em," asserted the manager, tersely
when Mona had retired, " if only she can go on onc^
and not wilt"

" I want you to come here daily for a week," be
said to Mona, when she was ready to leave, " and get
used to this matter. Tour playing is excellent, and
if you can forget the audience for ten minutes and
do as well, you are made I "

But warmer encouragement came from Jess when
home was reached that day.

THE BOAD TO THE TEMPLE 386

" I'm proud o' ye, girlie," he aaid, his face glowing
and his eyes alight, " I'm proud o' ye, 'n' if ye'll
fiddle as ye kin 'n' hold yer head 'fore 'em, I'U shed
tears o' joy. We'll rig ye up," he continued, " right
away, an' all ye need to do is jist to say to yerself, ' I
kin do it,' an' feel it, an' ye will."

How easy to say, but alas, how hard to do I
For a week Mona lived in a trance with only one
thought, and that of the awful moment when she
must perforce stand alone before that hydra-headed
monster — an audience.

Sometimes her heart failed for a moment, and it
seemed she could never do it ; then a strain of the in-
domitable will that had come down to her from her
Carver ancestors arose, and she said to herself, " I
will."

^^ Then back of that lay another point of pride.
Perhaps he will be there to see me," she thought
For all these months, while she had silently fought
her own heartache, Winn Hardy's face and words
had been ever present

All the covert flatterie, he had spoken in the cave,
all the praises of her playing, the description of the
wonderful woman before whom the worid bowed, the
tender words of love he had uttered, to end with one
cold letter of di«nissal, and she left to rise above and

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BOCKHATEI7

1 1

11!

conquer her own pain alone and unaided, came back
now.

It was well that they did.

And when the supreme moment of her trial came,
and robed in spotless white, without an ornament,
save her matchless eyes, her perfect throat, her
rounded arms, she stepped into view of that audience,
not for one instant did she falter.

The Alhambra was filled that evening with its
usual gathering in search of pleasure. A few hun-
dred bias! men and women who had seen everything
on the boards of the regular theatres now drifted
into this, hoping for a new sensation. Twice as many
more store girls who«e escorts had brought them there
because admission was cheap, and a medley of all
sorts, old and young. The saucy balladist in short
skirts had sung her song, the soloist in black had
picked off his banjo act, the acrobats had leaped and
twisted and turned, the magician pulled a stock of
worsted balls, a hoopskirt, and a rabbit out of a silk
hat borrowed from the audience, and then, after
frying an egg in it, returned it unharmed ; and the
usual vaudeville program was nearing its end when
those listless people saw Motia step out from the
wings and, without once lifting her eyes to them,
bow slightly, and raising her violin, begin playing.

THE EOAD TO THE TEMPLB

387

And even as Winn'a heart had been touched by the
wonderful sweetness of htr simple niusie that day in
the cave, so were theirs reached now.

It was not classic, or new, or unheard before —
just a medley of old-time Scotch airs that carried the
mirth of a merry dance and the mood of tender love.
But the mirth and the mood were there, thrilling,
quivering, wliispcring, even as a human voice would
speak.

And when the yearning of that medley ended its
final appeal, and Mona for the first time raised her
eyes to them as she bowed, a storm of applause that
fairly shook the building greeted her.

Again and again was it repeated, until, bending
her queenlike head, she once more raised her violin.

And now came " Annie Laurie."

Slowly caressing her violin with her face, even as
a mother would her babe, Mona played.

And every whispered heartache, every pulse of
undying love that that old, old song contains, came
forth to reach and thrill the hearts of that audience
as naught else could.

When it was ended and Mona bowed low, what a
storm camel

Men rose and cheered and women, too, while they
brushed the tears away.

■■f!

338

BOOKHAVKir

Again and again did tiiat wave of stamping and
voiced applause arise, till the very roof quivered,
and still once again.

And Mona, the poor child, whose will, atrcmger
than love, had ciuried her throng that awful ordeal
without a break, now out of sight, lay sobbing in the
arms of Jess.

She had won her fame without a flaw, and then,
womanlike, had collapsed.

CHAPTER XLIII

THl CTWIc'b 8HAIX>W

The doubt and dktrust of all humanity, first im-
planted in Winn Hardy's mind by his friend and
adviser, Nickerson, was now working its inevitable
injury. Much of it had been brushed away during
Winn's association with the simple and honest people
of Kockhaven and especially Jess; but now that
he was back again in the city and iu touch with its
pushing, selfish life, once more cynicism rule<l him.
His vocation as reporter paid poorly ; ho was in daily
contact with unscrupulous and suspicious men, saw
poverty begging in alleyways and arrogant wealth
riding in carriages, mai obsequiously bowing before
the rich and snubbing the poor, and on all sides and
in all ways he was made to realize that money was
the god the city worshipped, and show, its religion.

On Sunday, when the usual morning chimes an-
swered each other, his thoughts flew to Rockhaven and
the iwo bells there; bui when with his aunt, in
church, he listened to the operatic singing and classic

'^1
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840

BocxnATKir

•<« \

sermon, it all seemed to lack heart and sincerity, and
not one solitary note of supplication entered the min-
ister's prayer. Then the elegantly dressed ladies
who greeted one another as at a reception, the men
who looked bored and at the close of the service
seemed relieved, each and all seemed to Winn to be
there on exhibition.

Then, too, his moral safeguards were in daily dan-
ger, and the sneering Nickcrson, their assailant.

" Well, old boy," he said to Winn one evening at
the club, " how do you like penny-a-lining these cold
winter days ? Is an. editorship any nearer in sight ? "
" Nothing in sight for me except one demnition
grind," replied Winn, disconsolately ; " I get dis-
couraged sometimes and think I am no good on
earth."

Nickerson looked at him with a sarcastic smile.
" Winn, my dear fellow," he said at last, " I'm
going to be very candid with you, so don't be angry
with me. To begin with you are too honest and too
good-hearted. Yo>i think of others first and yourself
last, and then you have scruples. Now scruples don't
go herj in the city, and whoever eultivates thorn gets
left. In the first place, Weston & Hill played you for
a dupe, and if T hadn't come to the rescue, you'd have
been stranded on the island and out five hundred, and

THE CYNIC « MHADOW

841

the natives would have been ready to ride you on a
rail. Then when we saved your bacon and you knew
they were two thieves, you even returned them the
little extra money they had sent yon to pay the men.
I won't say anything about the heroic way you made
your aunt's loss good. It was heroic, but it wasn't
sense.

" Now, after all this eye-openinjr experience, and
you on your uppers, so to speak, I offered to start you
in a lawful business, you won't have it, simply be-
cause it dmacks of gamblinf; ! Wi .n, yo>i are one
of the beat fellows in the world, and I like you, but
you are a fool — net ! "

" Well, I'll keep on beinjt one." amnrered Winn
warmly (for no man enjoys plain tnith), "before
I'll open a bucket shop and knowingly rob people."

"Yes, and walk while the rest ride," asserted
Jack, tersely, " you know the old deacon's advice to
his son just starting ont in life, — ' Make money, my
son, honestly if you can, but make it ! ' "

" All very good," replied Winn, " but old. I doubt
whether you can change my fool ideas, if you talk
till doomsday; but you may mellow them. And
that reminds me of another fool thing I've done. I
bought the sole right, title, and deed of the Tfock-
haven Qranite Company's quarry a few weeks ago."

y
i

342

aOCKHATKf

"Thewi»e»t bny yon ever made, my boy," aMwered
Jack, quickly ; " and now if you wiU kuMte around
and get gome men to put money into a mw company,
you will be in hick once more." TWi, ai another
idea came to this quick-witted num of the world, be
added, " What's the matter with Jeas Button and
all the money we made for him ? "

But Winn was lilent. while a tick of memory
swept over his feeling*. • nd in it wm Mona, with
her tender love, and Jem, «rith the heart utd hand be
offered at parting, and all the good p««ple on the
island wh<wn Winn knew to be his fri««dg. And aa
all the possibilities Rockhaven contained oame back
to him, now it suddenly dawned upon him that Jack
Nickerson had named him rightly.

" I see I've put you to sleep," continued Jaok,
after the long pause while he watched Winn, " and
now I'll wake you up. I saw Ethel Sherman in a
box at the theatre last night, with our mutual friend,
Simmons. He must have reached his second child-
hood 1"

Then Wina did wake up.

And more than that, a few unconsidered triflea
oonneet^ with this same vivacious Ethel aaaumed
i»dex shape. He recalled that she had for the past
six weeks specified the evening! she would be at

Tm OTKIo'l IBAOOW

848

boBie to him, for > week ahead. He aim recalled
that a plenitude of choioett flowen had always graced
her parlor lately.

"And why not," he aniwered oooUy; "old Sim-
moM it a widower worth a million, has juat built an
elegant new residence of the granite we quarried, and
Ethel's in the market I think aho shows good sense
— at least your kind of good sense. Jack."

"Yea, and of all experienced people," asserted
Nickerson, defiantly. " 8»;atiment is a fine thing in
books or on the stage, it may infiuonco silly girls or
callow boys, but it's out of date in this age."

And Winn, recalling his own early episode with
Ethel, and the lesson in life that for weeks had been
forced upon him, was more than half inclined to be-
lieve hia friend to be right

And yet, as he thought of this prospective January
and May affair, and a fossil like Simmons, with
dyed hair, false teeth, and certainly sixty years
wrinkling his face, he felt disgusted with Ethel.
And the more he thought of the groove he was in, of
the cold, selfish, grasping city life where mammon
was king and sentiment a jest, the more his heart
turned to Rookhaven. Then the thought of Monii
came back to him, and a yearning for her, impossible
to reaist And with it, self-reproach that he had let

I 'I

IH'

I I

Hll

* n

844

•OCXHAVKir

his own discouragement control his actions so long.
A few days more did he waver, and then his heart's
impulse won.

The winter had nearly passed and the days were
lengthening when this impulse came, but he waited
no longer.

" I'm going to Rockhavcn," ho said to his aunt that
night, " and shall be gone a few days. I've obtained
a week's leave of absence from the paper, and start
to-morrow. I want to see Jess Hutton and some of
my old friends there. I've also an idea that possibly
the quarry can be started again. If I can bring it
about," he added, after a pause, " how would you
feel about loaning me a few thousand dollars,
auntie ? "

Then the motherly side of Mrs. Converse spoke out.

" I'll do it gladly, Winn," she responded. " I've
felt all along that the money you saved me was more
yours than mine, and you shall have all of it that
you need."

And when Winn left the city, as once before, a new
courage and new hopes tinged his horizon.

And first and foremost in them was the flowerlike
face and soulful eyes of Mons.

The wisest of us, however, are but mere bats in
this world, blindly flying hither and thither. At

TIU OTHIo'g SHADOW 846

time* one may, by ghcer good luck, fly free ; and then
•gain we strike our heads against a wall.

Yet we think we are very wise.

And 10, Winn Hardy, full of hope and love, found,
when he rr:\ched the coast town where the steamer
Rockhaven mado landing, that her trips were but
twice a week now mid he had a full day to wait.

How slowly it passed while ho chafed at the delay !
how his eagerness to be with Mona grew! how his
longing increased as he counted the hours he must
waitl and with all mingled a self-reproach, need noi
be specified. For it had dawned upon Winn that his
conclusions regarding Mona might have l)een wrong,
and once we feel that we have made a mistake, we
soon feel sure that it must be so.

And Winn was now certain.

But he would and could repair it easily. All that
was necessary was to assure Mona that he had I)een
discouraged or he would have written again, and to
reproach her gently for neglecting to answer his
letter.

How easily we plan excuses for our own conduct,
and how like a child's toy we are apt to consider a
woman's heart!

When, after a day's wait that seemed a week to
Winn, the Rockhaven made landing, he leai>ed aboard

MICROCOfY DESOIUTION TiST CHAUT

(ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 3)

_^ /APPLIED IIVHGE In

S^ '653 East Main Street

^.S Rochesler, New York 14609 USA

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^K (716) 288- 5989 - Fo.

346

BOCEHAVIN

to grwp Captain Eoby's hand almost as he would a
fathers. But a half gale was blowing outside, the
captain nervously anxious to unload, and start back-
imd only a word of greeting did Winn receive until
Jhe steamer was well under way toward Rockhaven
Then, feeling privileged, he entered the little pilot
house.

"Well, Captain Eoby," he said, "how are you
and how's the island ? "

" Oh, it's thar yit," answered that bronze-faced
skipper, shifting the wheel a point and heading sea-
card, " an' likely to stay thar. It seems sorter nat'rel
to see ye, Mr. Hardy," he added cheerfully, " an' I'm
right glad to git the chance. We've been wonderin'
what become o' ye an' how the quarryin' business was
comin out. Ye ain't thinkin' o' startin' it up agin
air ye?" "P "g'n,

"Possibly," answered Winn, "in fact, that is a
part of my errand here, and to make you all a visit.
The old company failed, as, I presume, you know,
and I ve bought the quarry myself now."

"I'm mighty glad on't," replied the captain cor-
dial y, an' so'll all on us be. We've sorter took to
ye, Mr. Hardy."

"And how is my old friend, Jess?" asked
Winn, unable to withhold that query longer.

THE CTNlc's SHABOW 347

"and Mrs.Hutton and her daughter and Mrs
Moore ? "

" Wal, Jess an' the Widder Button took a notion
to git hitched long 'fore Christmas," answered the
captain slowly, « an' they're gone to the city 'n' taken
Mona with 'em. We gin 'em a great send-off, and I
run ashore jist a purpose for 'em. It's curus ye haint
seen Jess up thar. I'd a-s'posed ye would."
Winn's heart sank.

" When do you go back, captain ? " he said finally
trying to hide his bitter disappointment. "I sup^
posed you made daily trips as usual."
^^ "Only Tuesdays and Fridays," he answered;
thar ain't much need o' runnin' oftener."
And this was Friday !

And Winn, the now ardent Romeo, had three full
days and four nights to spend on Rockhaven, and
Juliet was not there 1

There are many of the fair sex who wiU say that
it served him right.

And what a picture of cheerless desolation was
this sea-girt island when Winn neared itl A half
gale was blowing, the wares leaping high against
the snow-topped cliffs, and as the Rochhaven, rolling
pitching, and half coated with frozen spray, turned
into the little harbor and neared her dock, only

'Is

348

BOCKHAVKN

one man, shivering in oil skins, was there to meet
her.

" I wish ye'd put up with me," said Captain Roby
to Winn, when the steamer's plank was shoved out.
" We'd be more'n glad to hev ye, an'll make ye wel-
come."

And Winn, dreading the empty white cottage next
to Mrs. Moore's fully as much as that excellent wom-
an's curiosity, accepted the captain's offer. That
evening, in spite of Winn's disappointment, was a
pleasant one to him, for the news of his arrival had
flown like the wind, and a constant stream of callers
came to the captain's house. It seemed as if all
Rockhaven was desirous of extending a welcome
hand, and from Parson Bush down to men whose
names Winn had never known, they kept coming.
Nevev before had he been so lionized or made to feel
that ho had so many friends, and so cordially did
they one and all greet him that, had the Rev. Bush
suggested that they all join in a hymn of thankful-
ness, Winn would not have been more surprised. It
recalled the parting words of Jess, and in a forcible
way.

But alas ! that genial philosopher was absent !
Winn, however, saw his opening, and with a little
natural pride, stated that he now owned the quarry.

THE CTlflc's SHADOW

849

and, if some capital could be furnished ty these
island people, he was in a position to put in a matter
of five or ten thousand dollars, and the industry
•would be started anew. Then as a climax to this
proposition, he read to them the history of the Rock-
haven Granite Company and gave a description of
the auction of its assets.

But he did not mention the price he had paid for
the quarry.

It was midnight ere the crowd dispersed and
Winn, proud and happy, was shown to his room.
But the next day a reaction came; for when he called
upon Mrs. Moore, as he felt he must, the closed white
cottage next door and the little dooryard, now under
snow, where Mona had reared her flowers, seemed
likp a tomb. His worthy landlady was overjoyed to
see him, however, a"d gave an explicit account of
the wedding that I.. . occurred, of Mrs. Button's
dress, how pretty Mona looke<' and how happy all
were. She, too, supposed Winn must have heard
of it, and marvelled greatly that the Hutton family
could have been in the city now three months, and
Winn not meet them. Where they were stopping,
what doing, and when they were to return, she knew
not. So Winn left her, as much in the dark as ever.
And then, though the snow lay thick on the ledges

3S0

BOCKHATEN

swept by the ocean's winds, like a love-lorn swain he
must visit Norse Hill and go over to the gorge to
peer into ite interior, and the cave, then back to the
old tide mill and to the village. When Sunday came
he was really glad to attend church, and by evening
was so disconso' - that he wished for wings to fly to
the mainland. In spite of cordiality, Eockhaven
was now a desolate spot.

And when Tuesday came and he sailed away, the
sole passenger over the misty ocean with Captain
Roby, Winn was ai wiser and sadder man. When he
reached the city he felt that if he could but find
Mona, to kneel at her feet and beg for her love
would be a blessed privilege.

CHAPTER XLIV

ONLY A HOOD

When Winn reached ho-ne, he found two mee-
sages awaiting him, one from Ethel Sherman ask-
ing him to call, and another bidding him journey to
the home of his boyhood and attend to a business
matter at once. His birthplace, an almost worthless
hillside farm, had been leased to strangers, but they
had scarce obtained a living and, finally, having de-
nuded it of about everything except the stones and
the old weather-beaten farmhouse, had deserted it,
leaving three years' taxes unpaid.

And Winn, the sole heir, was now asked to come
and pay them, or aUow his boyhood home to be sold
for that purpose.

This, following the bitter disappointment of hig
Rookhaven trip, seemed the last straw; and when
he called upon Ethel, as perforce he felt he must, he
WES in an unenviable frame of mind.

But she was sweetness personified.

"Why, Winn, my dear friend," she said, "what
861

'il

362

BOCKIIATEN

have I done to you that you should desert me so ? It's
been three weeks since I've set eyes upon you ex-
cept at church, and then you would not look at me."
" I don't imagine that you have suffered much,"
replied Winn, savagely, looking at an immense bunch
of American Beauty roses on the cenf re-table, and
thinking of Simmons. " I am a workor in the hive
these days, and ' sassiety ' isn't for me."
Ethel looked at him and laughed.
" My dear boy," she said sweetly, " you ought to
send your temper to the laundry and feel grateful
I wanted to see you. I refused an invitation to the
opera this eve just to have a visit with you, and
you come cross as two sticks."

" I'm sorry," he answered, " but I have troubles
of my own, and life isn't all a picnic. For instance,
IVe got to take a two-hundred-mile ride into the
country to-morrow, pay up the taxes, and find a
tenant for the old farm. I've just returned from a
business trip, away five days, and the editor told me
this afternoon if I wanted more time off now I'd
better resign."

" He's a brute," said Ethel.
" No, he's a businc> , man," replied Winn, " and
I'm his servant, that is all. I don't intend to be
much longer, or any man's for that m' tter."

ONLY A MOOD

868

I m so glad," she asserted, in the oooir^, sympa-

thettc tone a woman knows so well how to use-

you are capable of better thing., Winn, and i

«hall^ welcome the da, when ,ou are your own

Then Winn, his vexed spirit soothed by this
woman s gentle sympathy, his self-respect restored
by her praise, looked at her admiringly " Ethel "
he said, "you can mark the two extremes of wom-
ankind -angel or devil -with equal facility. If
ever I attempt a novel, you shall be the heroine "

Better not," she laughed. " IVe no sentiment,
and a heroine without a heart would be a flat failure.
No, she continued musingly, " IVe not even a little
one I used to think I had, but I've outgrown it.
hentiment on a woman's part these days is a weak-
ness for men to trample upon. Sister Grace had
sentiment Now she lives in four rooms and tends
baby, while hubby escapes to the club. No, thanks.
iNo sentiment in mine, please."

" I begin to think it's folly on either siae," asserted
Winn soberly, "and especially in business. Jack
says be good and you'll be lonesome,' and calls me
a fool for being honest. You say I am out of my
groove here and that a woman with a heart is a
stupid. I am inclined to think that there is no such

3S4

BOOKUAVIN

thing as truth, honor, and sentiment except among oiv.
fogies and children."

" There isn'' and there is," -esponded Ethel, philo-
sophically; " no one is all bad, or at least but few
are, while not many are all good. Only, in matters
of the heart, a woman who has one is bound to suffer,
unless she meets and weds a young god, and gods are
scarce in this day and generation."

" But is she likely to be the happier by marrying
for money and f •^sition ? " queried Winn, pointedly.

" To ti.e best of my observation — yes," she an-
swered, understanding perfectly well what he meant.
" And it's to obtain your opinion on that very sub-
ject I asked you to call."

Winn looked at her long and fixedly.

Once he had thought this girl the incarnation of
all that was lovely and lovable. Young, handsome,
and yet not of the Dresden china order, but warm,
passionate, full of life and good spirits. She was
all that now, but hard-hearted, cool-headed, a diamond
among her sex, but not a pansy.

And so far as he could iudge, one who would seek
and accept only a golden setting. Once he had loved
her madly, now he enjoyed her keen wit, her veiled
flatteries, her perfect poise, her polished sarcasm,
realizing that she was likely to be an ornament to

ONLY A MOOS

8SS

the man who won her, but never a heart companion.
And now he adu.ired t.r intensely, but loved her not
at all.

"Winn," she saio at last, snuling, " have you ana-
lyzed ,ne Huffioicmly to answer „.y ,,„,Hion now? "

" No," he replied evasively, " and I never can.
I ve earned one thing, and learned it well, and that
i«, Its folly to tell a woman truth in such matters.
lUey prefer lies that are flattering."

" Men ne.or do, I suppose," she said, with a tinge
of sareasra.

" Oh, yes, they do," he admitted candidly; « men
positively thirst for flattery -especially from a
woman. But it is safer to tell them the truth. Thev
wiU ,n time forgive that, even if it hurts, but a
woman never will."

"Thai'- a man's estimhte," she asserted, "not a
woman's. My belief is, truth is an unsafe knife to
use in either case. But you have not answered my
question." •'

"It's hard to do that," he responded, "for it all
depends upon what a woman', id.a of happiness i.
lou, who assert that you are wi.hout heart and b^
.eve sentiment a folh^ would be miserable, if mated
to a poor man, be he never so faithful in love You
want luxuries, fine gowns, and plenty of them, since

SS6

BOCKIIAVBlr

.•.'.: H

you Imvo l)oaiity ; you move in a circle where show ia
ri'lipioti and pxtrnvajfiinci- a ncccsgity. To you and
your anwH-intpB, tlieso wants have Ix'come habits and
rule you all."

Ethel 8igh"d.

" Wo are a hollow set, I'll admit," she said, " and
leave the price tag on all we give away; but still
you do not answer my (|ue8tion."

" No, and no man or woman can," ho responded.
" As they say on the street, ' it's a gamble either way.'
If you marry for love and secure a cottage, you will
sigh for a mansion. If you obtain the mansion and
miss the love, you will sigh for tlie cottage."

Then looking at the vase of roses standing near,
as if they exhaled a revelation, he added slowly,
" You will be true to your surroundings, Ethel, and
whoever buys you will pay your price."

She flushed slightly.

" You put it into unvarnisnf . words," she an-
swered, laughing to conceal the hurt, "but I can't
complain. I asked you for the truth." Then, in
self-defence, she added, a little sadly, " It's not my
fault, Winn, that I am for sale; it's the fault of
society and its dictum. I say at times, as I said to-
night, that sentiment Is folly; and then again comes
a yearning for something sweeter, something better

"Nt.Y A MOOD ;J5-

t»ian this life of mIiow and kI,«" ,«• ,,l,„it,„l^K. o.-rn-
«ioimlIy I f,.ol it ...: u mi ako, n.i.l ...ivy Gnu-.-. I.u»,

mimin.T, wl„.» I «•»« np i„ tl... „ t.ii.i.-, w,. ,v,mt

driving ono ,lay nn.i h1,>|,,„.,| at « f»nnli„iiHo to l,uv
a k1«8h of M.ilk. Tl,,. l,o„8o wu« u l>ov,.l al.no,t ; two
littlo cl.iKlr..n l,Hr..f,„,tt.,l and 1. Mvlu,,d..d played „„-
der a tree, and inside a wotrun, was HinKinR. When
she bro.iRht U8 tl... niiik, HJie, too, was l.arefoot. We
passed that way later, on o„r return, and «i.e was
8t.ll singing at l,or .rk. And, in spite of her sur-
roundings, there was something i„ her voice that
awoke n.y envy. Her lif,. was povertv i.ersonificd;
there wasn't another house in siglt, and yet she was
happy."

And Winn, wondering what .his all meant an.l
marvelling that this imperative beantv, this len.ler of
fashion, cou.ted, flattered, and sought hv all, uld
have one such touch of human feeling, looked • her
in utter astonishment.

" Ethel," he said, " almost am I persuaded that
you have a heart."

" You had better not," she answered, with a laugh
that was a sneer, "you might pity me, and then I
should despise myself; " and, pulling out one of ti.e
roses that drooped toward the table, she slowly picked
it to pieces.

I' f

858

BOOKHATBN

" Life is but a succession of moods, Winn," she
continued, after a pause; "and some contain the
rustle of angels' wings and some the clicking of devils'
teeth. At times I hate the whole world and envy the
nuns I meet in the street, and then again I think
them fools."

Then she arose and seated herself at the piano. For
a full ten minutes she lightly touched the keys, now
a few chords of dreamy waltz music, then a low,
plaintive love song, and finally a bit of Sousa, while
Winn quietly studied her.

Suddenly she turned.

"Winn," she said, looking him full in the face,
" I am going to be very rude. Tell me what made
you go to Rockhaven ? "

His eyes fell. " To see Jess Hutton," he answered,
" and the quarry. I bought it at the auction a month
ago."

It was fairly well said, but not over well

" Thanks," she replied, " and forgive my query.
There is no need of repeating it."

And it was weeks after before it dawned on him
yhat she wished to find out

CHAPTER XLV

THE OLD HOUE

These was nothing that could depress Winn just
now any more than to visit his boyhood homo. It
had been twelve years since he left the hillside farm,
and to return to it, even for a few days and on the
errand that called him, was melancholy in the ex-
treme. Then his trip to Rockhaven had not helped
his feelings. He had gone there expecting to find
Mona, and believing that a few vorda of explanation
would set matters right. He had even planned what
to say and how to say it, and in the fulness of his
faith in himself and her, believed that she would
easily overlook what he now knew was a cruel neglect
on his part. Just why he had let his own discourage-
ment nile him so long and in such a way, he could not
now understand. And the more he thought of it and
saw his own conduct as it was, the worse it seemed.
Perhaps she had never received the letter! Perhaps
also she had written, and it had failed to reach him.
And when he recalled the parting, and that all her
8C9

a i\

860

BOOKHAVSn'

I .

! I

happiness and life, almost, seemed to rest on his
promise to return, he almost cursed his own stupidity.

Verily, a pearl of great price had been cast at his
feet, and he had been too witless to pick it up.

And now she was here in the city, and had been for
months. And other men might be looking into her
winsome eyes, and whispering of lovel

And with these self-reproaches and jealous sur-
mises for company, Winn sped onward toward his
boyhood home.

It was dark ere a slow-moving stage landed him at
the village tavern and a cheerless supper.

And the next day's visit to the spot 1

The only redeeming feature seemed to be that it
was warm and the sun shone — one of those first
spring days that come the last of March, and with it
the early-arriving bluebirds. They were there when
Winn reached the now deserted farmhouse, where a
snow-drift still lingered against its northern side and
patches of the same winter pall draped each stone
wall. The brook which crossed the meadow in front
was a brimming torrent; the barn shed across the
road was filled with a confusion of worn-out vehicles,
broken and rusted farming tools half buried in snow,
a drift of which remained in the empty bam, the
door of which had fallen to earth; the fences had

THX OLD HOIOE

361

great gaps in them; gates were missing; and ruin
and desolation were visible on all sides.

The house that had once been "Home, Sweet
Home," to Winn was the most lugubrious blotch of
all. It had grown brown and moss-covered with time
and the elements, missing window-panes were re-
placed with rags, bushes choked the dooryard, and,
as he peered into what had once been the " best room,"
snow lay on the floor and strips of paper hung from
the walls.

How small the house seemed to what it once had !
The old well-sweep had been used to patch the garden
fence, the woodshed roof had fallen in, and a silence
that seemed to crawl out of that eld ruin brooded
over it.

This was his boyhood home, and on it lay the bur-
den of three years' taxes and a mortgage !

And as Winn looked into windows and then en-
tered, crossing floors gingerly, lest they give way and
pitch him into the cellar, he felt that it would be a
mercy to the world to set the old rookery on fire and
remove it from human sight.

The solitary note of joy about it was a bluebird
piping away in the near-by orchard, and for that
bird's presence there, Winn felt grateful.

Then he wandered over the orchard, searching for

" i

869

BOCKHATUr

the tre* that had borne seek-no-further apples, and
another where he had once met a colony of angry
hang-legs while climbing to rob a bird's nest. He
failed to reach the nest, but those vicious wasps
reached him easily enough, and as Winn recalled the
incident he smiled — the first time that day.

For two hours he roamed about the farm, now
hunting for the tree where he had shot his first
squirrel, and then the thicket in which he had once
kept a box-trap set for rabbits. He followed the
brook up to the gorge, sauntered through the chestnut
grove and back M where a group of sugar maples and
a sap house stood, thankful that the familiar rocks
yet remained and that the trees had not been cut
away, and for the bluebirds, chirping a welcome.

Then he left the scenes of his boyhood days, so
happy in memory, and as he drove away, turned for
a last look at the old brown house, feeling much as
one does after visiting an ancient graveyard where
ancestors lie buried.

He had a week's lekve of absence from his duties,
now ahead of him, and he went oousining. He a^ o
hunted up a few old schoolmates, putting himself in
touch with their rustic lives and talking over school
days.

Then he returned to the '>'*7, feeling that luck had

THX OLD BOia

363

dealt unfairly by him and that he was more out of
place than ever.

And now began a period in Winn's life which he
never afterward recalled without a chiU of dread.
To no one did he confide his feelings, for no one, he
felt, could understand them. It was not exactly a
love-lorn fit of despondency, and yet it was, for Mona
was ever present in his thoughts. He avoided Jack
Nickerson, bating to list«n to his inevitable sneering,
and kept away from Ethel Sherman. He hunted for
news items, as duty called him, visiting the stock
exchange, the theatre, the court rooms, and the
morgue. And while he looked for news, recording
simple drunks and their penalties, suicides and their
names and history, and the advent of theatrical stars
with equal indifference, he scanned the crowded
streets and aU public places, ever on the watch for
one fair face. Often he would stand on a corner for
an hour, watching the passing throng, and then at a
theatre entrance until all had departed. And though
he was one of that busy throng of pushing people, a
spectator of careless, laughing humanity crowding
into and out of playhouses, he was not of them. In-
stead was he a disappointed, discouraged man,
whose ambitions had come to naught and whose hopes
were in shadow. He was moody and silent at home

,• It'

364

ROCKnAVEN

and aimless at his work, and as the days went by
with never one glimpse of the face he now longed to
.see more than all else in the world, he grew utterly
hopeless.

How many times had he lived over those summer
days on Rockhaven, how often fancied himself in
the cave listening to the artless words and simple
music of that child of natu- and how he cursed his
own stupidity and lack of appreciation, need not be
specified.

With him, as with us all, the blessings that had
been his seemed td brighten and grow dearer as they
took flight.

And of Mona or her whereabouts, not one word or
hint had reached him.

CHAPTER XLVI

A NEW HTAB

To that city, surfeited with pleasure, a new sen-
sation had come, and while Winn Hardy was aim-
lessly gathering news items, too disconsolate to read
the amusement notes even, and caring not at all
whp.t happened in stage-land, it was slowly spreading
A httle ripple at first, when the few who could appre-
ciate the exquisite nature of Mona's simple music
heard her to go ,.,/ay charmed and come again, the
while telling all whom they knew of it, until the " Al-
hambra " was packed each night and " Mile Moiia
m Scotch Melodies," as the sign that flanked either
side of the stage read, was all the rage. Then the
papers picked it up and the musical critics exhausted
their vocabularies about her. They extolled her
pose, expression, and inflection; they went into
raptures over technique, time, ar.d timbre; they
lauded her classic profile, her arm, her throat, her
eyes; while Mona, unmindful of all their clatter
forgot herself each night as she threw her very heart
and soul into her playing.
8(U

806

BOCKHATXN

|i<

•I

And Fritz grew mad with lovel

She practised still, hours each day on new and
classic music ; ho insisted that she should, and when
some soulless sonata, some delirious composition full
of leaps and quivers and trills was learned, she exe-
cuted it at night.

But it was the simple and sweet old songs of Bon-
nie Scotland that won applause.

And when, as happened almost nightly, some ad-
mirer gave a basket or bouquet of costly flowers to
an usher to be passed up over the footlights to her,
they were usually tied with tartan ribbon.

And the little Qerman teacher had almost lost his
reason.

Twice he had been on his knees before her, and
with hand on heart and in broken English, disclosed
his love for " Mein Fraulein Liebohen."

But Mona only shook her head.

He wept, he raved, he smote his breast, and would
have kissed the shoes she wore, if she would have but
stood still and allowed it.

There were others who sent her notes tucked in
baskets of flowers, they begged for an interview, for
just one word of reply. They covered pages with
wild declarations of love, they sent her costly jewels
tied to love missives, in the vain hope of an answei,

A NIW 8TAB

867

and gathered at the stage door to see her paw in and
out. But Jess, like an old watch dog, was always
on gua.d. He went with her to the " Alhambra "
each night and waited until she had " done her turn,"
and after she had changed her garb, helped her into'a
carriage and rode home with her.

He well might care for her, for each week the
manager paid for her " act " what would have been
regarded on Rockhaven as a small fortune, and con-
sidered it cheap at that price.

And Mona, growing accustomed now to the sea of
faces she had once feared, watched them covertly
each evening, hoping and yet dreading to catch sight
of a certain one among them.

It was all a new wonder world, a strange, sweet
intoxication, and like a dream to her. She rejoiced
in her power, conscious, as well she might be, how
she could sway the thousands to wild applause and
some to tears. And when it was all over and she
away from the scene of her triumph each time, she
wondered if he had made one in that audi .nee. And
what would he say and think, if he was ? And what
would he do? Had he quite forgotten the simple
child who amused him one summer, or would he seek
her out?

And when she thought of how like a silly girl she

808

BOOZHATXir

, i
'I'-

' ;

had raised her lips to him at the moment of part-
ing, and the tears she had shed, her face burned.

Then piide came forth, and she felt that, if he
ever did seek her again, lie would have to beg for-
giveness on his knees, protesting even as Fritz had,
before she would extend a hand even. For Mona was
growing proud and conscious of her own power ai
this time.

The weeks during which she had nightly reigned as
a queen over thousands, the storms of applause she
had hoard when bowing and smiling before them,
and all the flatteries of flowers snd words that had
been showered upon her, had wrought its inevitable
"haage. Only to Uncle Jess was 3he the same.
And he?

Well, never in his life had so much happiness come
as now. He seemed to grow younger each day, for
in the new joy that had come to Mona he found his
own. Then, too, a change came to Mona'a mother.
No longer did she consider " fiddlin' a man's busi-
ness," and frown at her child. In their temporary
home that daughter ruled supreme, her every wish
gratified, her every whim considered just right.

" We'll go back 'n' visit the island fer a spell,"
Jess said, when the season at the " Alhambra " was
Bearing its close ; " an' then we'll take ye 'round,

A I»«W STAB

860

girlie, an' let ye «* the worM. I kin -ford it now,
n the beat ia none too good ler ye."

But the current of Fate twiat. and tuma ua at
will, while adown the atream of life we float, and
«on,.,>mea we drift into amooth watera and apain
we are daahed againat the rocka. With our will or
agamat our will, no matter, we are awept on.

And a Power quite beyond our ken ia ever in
control.

And one evening, deapondent, aimlesa, and feelinc
hfe a hoj^lea, fight and Fate againat him, Winn
Hj rdy drifted into the " Alhambra."

No knowledge of the atar that nightly blazed there
had reached him, and if he had read of her, it waa aa
of othera who wer« noticed by the preaa and unknown
to him. He came in, aa he entered otiier theatrea on
a reporter's pass, privileged to take a seat if not' oc-
cupied or else stand. In thia case, it seemed the
latter for the houae waa packed and a fringe of men
circled the foyer. The boxea were also filled; and
as Winn glanced across to them, there in one, dresaed
m evening gown, her arms and ahouldera bare, and
slowly fanning heraelf, aat Ethel Sherman. And
with her — Simmons I

It was nothing to Winn, of course, and yet it
awoke disgust. ''

870

■OOXHAVn

The usual vaudeville acta were on in turn, and
Winn, gomewhat weary with life, and watching one
particular box more than the »Utge, waa about to
leave when suddpnly a wild burst of applauie swept
over the house, and there, just tripping on to the
stage, bowing and smiling as she came was — Mona I

Fir one instant his heart stopped beating.

Great Heavens, could it be possible, or was this
some inf ?ne dream 1 He gasped for breath.

The house seeitaod to twist and turn.

And then, as he leaned against a pillar to steady
himself, a hush came.

And what a picture stood before him I

Not the half-developed, ill-clad girl who haa »t
with him in the cave! Not the timid hild w, H
wondering eyes, looking up to him as a superior be-
ing I Not the gentle Mona, the sweet flower, awaiting
his hand. Oh, no !

Instead, a proud and beautiiul woman, erect and
smiling, with conscious power. A stately creature
with rounded arms, dimpled throat, and perfect
shoulders like marble, emerging from the soft white
silk that trailed upon the stage. And in the crowning
coils of hair, black as night, a single pink rosebud,
half open, and in her hanr' the same old brown
violin I

!' !

saw STAB

371

Then bowing to right .nd left, u .he .wept that
VMt audience with her eve., while the .torm -^t
applauie continued, .he raiwd it to her chin

Not . breath, not a whi.per now, a. the n,.tchle«
voice of her mu.ic rippled forth, tinkling like tiny
bell, on a mountain .ide, murmuring like a brook in
fore.t .t.llne«..weet a. a bird .inging in the .unlight.
And when .he had held that vast throng .pdlbound,
entranced, breathlew, until the la.t exquisite note
had vibrated ,n their heart,, and bowed arain once
more, a tornado of sound burst forth. While thev
cheered and .houted, adown each aisle ushers hurried
«ith costly flowers and wreaths, and baskets and
bunche. of them were tossed upon the stage like so
many leave..

Then Winn saw Ethel Sherman rise in her box
f^d throw the great bunch of orchids she had hold
into the pile at Mona's feet.

And then that queen in white raised her violin once
more. And once again, as many times before, the
old love song that ha. thrilled the world for centuries

and the tw.hght hour when its voice of undying love
had mingled with the ocean requiem.

.i* ^T *". °°'' *° *" '^' """^ P'""* ""d that
spellbound audience; lost to the bn«t of applause

ii(

'i.
■H
Hi

872

BOOKHATEN

that again shook the very building, to the men who
cheered, the women who wept. Lost to all and every-
thing except his own heartache.

And as he brushed his eyes free from the inist that
had gathered, and turned away, it was in utter de-
spondency and humiliation, believing his love hope-
less now, and forgiveness from Mona impossible.

The next morning, reading the double-leaded head-
lie !8 announcing the farewell appearance of this
peerless queen of nielody and the columns of fulsome
praise that followed, only increased that feeling.
Her laurels had been won, her crown secured, and
now his love would be a worthless toy in her esti-
mation.

All that was left pas to see her, if he could, and
beg her forgiveness.

But even this was denied him.

" I'm a friend of Miss Hutton's," he said to the
" Alhambra " manager early that day, " and I wish
to obtain her address."

" I've no doubt of it," replied the man, in a sneer-
ing tone ; " lots of her admirers have wanted it, and
kept on wanting it for all me."

" But I am a friend of hers," persisted Winn, his
ire rising, " and I wish to see her."

" Well, go hunt for her," came the insolent answer.

li:i

A NEW STAR

S78

"She's in the city; but her address is her private
property, and you don't learn it from me." And he
turned away.

And Winn did likewise, too angiy for further
parley.

And that night, impelled a little by penitence and
iiore by despondency, he caUed on Ethel Sher-
man.

" How did you enjoy Scotch melodies last even-
ing?" he said gently, not wishing to seem inquisi-
tive; " I saw you in a box at the ' Alhambra.' "

"Enjoy hardly expresses it," she answered
earnestly; "I was spellbound, enraptured, and
moved to tears. It was silly, I know, but I couldn't
help it. Did you see me throw my flowers at the
girl ? "

"I did," he replied, his heart throbbing; "and
you were not alone in your enthusiasm. She seemed
to carry the house by storm. It was her farewell
appearance, I noticed by he papers this morning."

He was trying to speak indifferently, but it was
not easy.

^^ ''I am sorry," she responded, eyeing him keenly;
" I've heard her five times in the past two weeks,
and yesterday learned she was from Rockhaven. Did
you ever hear her before ? "

I !

374 ROCKHATEK

Then Winn knew that his secret was a secret no
longer.

" I have," he admitted modestly ; " she is the niece
of Jess Hutton."

" And it was to see her that you went to the island
two weeks ago," pursued Ethel, smiling; " I thought
as much then."

For a moment she tapped the carpet with one
dainty slipper, while her lips were pressed tightly
together, and then she continued : —

" I knew last summer," she' said, in a cool and
even voice, " that you had left your heart on the
island when you came hack. Permit me to congratu-
late you. The girl is a marvel."

" It is very kind of you to say so," he responded
dejectedly, " but useless. I didn't find her when I
went there, and it's all over between us, I presume."

Then Ethel laughed, but it was unnatural, and like
the rattle of dry bones. "Not a bit of it," she
said briskly ; " women with such eyes as hers do not
unlearn the lesson of love easily. You may have to
beg forgiveness for your neglect on your knees, but
you will receive it. It is such souls as hers that give
the lie to all our worldly philosophy."

" Have you such a one ? " he queried thoughtleesly.
Her eyes flashed.

et no

sland
ought

li one
ightly

>1 and
in the
gratu-

londed
'hen I
lume."
td like
," she
do not
lave to
38, but
at give

A HIW STAB 876

"No," she answered bitterly; "no one ever
accused me of such folly. I have no heart, and am
for sale to the highest bidder."

" I beg your pardon, Ethel," he said humbly, " I
was only thinking of the long ago, and forgot what
I was then."

" You need not," she replied, turning away. " I
only am to blame, but — it hurt — from you."

Then, covering her eyes with one hand, she added
slowly, as if tl,e words came hard: "It's all past
and gone, Winn, but — but I did not know myself
then, and now it's too lata God help me t "

At the door she laid a detaining hand on his arm.
" I wish you well," she said, with a quiver in her
voice; "I wish you all that's best and holiest in
life. Go to your island girl, and at once. She is
worthy of you, and you of her. We have been good
friends, and I hope always will be. Love is only an
illusion, but friendship endless. And now, good-by,
and God bless you ! "

And Winn, going v,ut into the night, knew that
the proud girl was reaping the pain she had sown.

tlessly.

il !

CHAPTER XLVn

LOVE ETEEWAL

The first warn days of spring had come to Rock-
haven ere Mona and her parents returned. The sunny
slopes back of the village were growing green, tho
tuhps and daff9dil8 in Mona's dooryard just peeping
out, the gulls on the cliffs nest-building, the fisherm^
painting their boats and mending neto, Parson Bush
with two helpers, thanks to Rockhaven stock, shin-
gling the church, and life on the island budding forth
mto vernal activity. No hint of Mona's proud life in
the city and wonderful triumph had reached those
people, and the Hutton family were welcomed back
as returning from a pleasure trip.

It was Mona's expressed wi.h that no mention be
made of her musical ambition and its success, and ,s
her desires were now la^ with Jess and her mother,
she was obeyed. Captain Roby had told them of
Wmns astonishing and unexpected visit before they
set foot on the island ; and it was repeated by many
others with sundry comments, all converging to one
870

LOT! XTIBITAI.

877

end, Mrs. Moore's being the most pointed, perhaps,
and therefore best to quote.

"I think," said that well-i-tentioned gossip-
monger to Mona, " he come here to make ye a visit,
more 'speshly, though he said he wanted to see what
could be done 'bout settin' the quarry a-goin'. He
called on me, and the only tiling he seemed to listen
to with any sort o' interest was 'bout you goin' away
and when you was like to come back. I never seen a
feller act more love-struck than he was, an' more out
o' sorts. He even went a wandering over the island
in the snow, like as if he was demented."

All this was a revelation to Mona, and unac-
countable. At first it provoked her silent derision
and increased the bitterness and almost hatred
which she had come to feel toward this erstwhile
lover.

Mona Hutton was what country people would call
a strange compound : a product of a lone sea island, of
its storms and the unceasing booming of billows ; of
days, weeks, and months spent alone, where only the
ocean voiced eternity ; of the whispers of winds in
spruce thickets, of the gorge and the cave where she
hid herself; of her own moods, sad, solemn, and con-
templative. She had grown up close to God, but
distant from man. The flowers blooming in her door-

878

BOCKRATnr

yard, the wild tosm dinging to life between the gran-
ite ledges, the sea-gtillg sailing over the oli£Fi, the
inward nuh of the whitensrested waves tossing the
rockweed and kelpie upward, and the starfish and
anemones left by the tide had been her playmates.
She had learned to depend on these and her violin for
company, Ijoven she had none, neither were other
island young folk akin to her. Between her mother
and herself, also, was a chasm. It had been opened
when that unsympathetic mother forbade the violin
in her house, and was never afterward bridged. Jess
only understood her. Jess, with his quaint philos-
ophy, /nder heart, unselfish impulses, and love of
nature, had been her spiritual and moral mentor. To
him had she gone with her moods, and upon him lav-
ished her childhood and girlhood love.

And then had come a new and strangely sweet illu-
sion, a glow of new sunshine wanning her heart
and adding a roseate hue to her thoughts. It was un-
accountable but charming, and seemed to lend a
sparkle to the sea waves, a more impressive grandf
to the limitless ocean, a tenderer beauty to the moon-
light. The gorge and the cave seemed an enchanted
nook in fairyland, and the old tide Jiill a romantic
ruin.

Then had come the climax of this strange intoziea-

tion, the one ecstatic moment when this magician
over her thought*, this Prince Perfect, had en-
twined his arms about her and whispered, " I love
you."

Repel him she could not, neither did she care to do
80. It was to her as if the gates of another world were
opened ; and in the wondrous thrill of his lips she
forgot herself, life, and God, even.

And then the cold and cruel message that said to
her, " Forget me as I must you." It was a summer-
day dream, with no hope of renewal

Then came the long fight against her own heart's
desire, the months of hopeless hope, and, at last, the
will to win her way to the worid's applause.

He was there I He might, must, see or hear of
her ! He had said the world would listen entranced
if she had but the courage to stand before thorn I
And the old Carver will that was in her now nerved
her to her trial.

And in the days and weeks of the strange new life
while she hoped, and yet feared, to meet him, that
one thought was her staff. It was with her by day
and by night, a silent defiance of love, a revenge for
her pair When the supreme moment of her trial
came and she stood before that sea of faces, only her
young, trembling body was there, her eveiy thought.

880

■OOXHATXH

her heart and aoul even, were back in the cave, and he
f7a« listening.

And it was because this cry of love, this thrill of
longing, leaped out of her fingers and spoke in every
note of the songs she played, that she won her
triumph.

For the applause she heard, the flowers showered
upon her, the money received, she cared not at all.
To reach him, show hini what she could do, ay, defy
him even with the skill of her art, the majesty of her
courage, was everything.

And this waSiMona Hutton, and now it was all
over.

She had won her crown, fame was hers, the world
of his city had bowed before her, but he was not
there, or if he had been, she knew it not

For days this defiance of her own love lasted, and
then a change came. Little by little the leaven of
his coming there softened her heart. Perhaps he had
been ill, or not in the city at all ? Perhaps he had
been, as he wrote, discouraged and hopeless? Per-
haps she had not understood his . 'ter ? When love
once sought excuses, they came in plenty, and she be-
gan to upbraid herself. Why had she not sent him
one word of love, one message of faith 1

And then this strange child of impulses, this girl

tOVK ITKBNAL

881

of mood* and fanciei, sombre as twilight in the gorge
and Bad as a whisper of sea winds in the pine trees,
betook herself away from even Jess to nurse her heart-
sickness again.

She had been proud and defiant when she faced the
world, scornful while pride lasted ; now she was a
contrite child, pitiful in her self-reproaches.

Each day she went to the tower to live over that
parting in tears and heartache, and then to the cave,
striving to recall every word, and lov>k, and smile of
his.

A pilgrimage to the shrine of love 1 A journey to
the grave of hope 1

Sometimes she carried her violin, but its strings
remained mute.

Sometimes she fondled and kissed the sea-shells
and starfish, now dry and hard, which his hand had
carried to this trysting-place.

Sometimes — yea, often, had tears fallen upon
the cold stone floor of that nook, even as our tears
fall upon the grass-grown graves of those we have
lost.

And then, one day, just as the twilight had dark-
ened the gorge, and she, hopeless and heartbroken,
leaned against the cave's cold waU, she saw him enter
the ravine.

889

SOOKBATIR

Step hy itep he climbed upward until the care waa
reached, and then he knelt before her.

" Forgive me, Mona," he said gently, extending
hii handi, " I have loved you alwaya," and aa he gath-
ered her close in his armi, God't whiiper of life and
love eternal apoke from thnae granite walla.

CHAPTER XLVIII

CORCLCRION

Tic« ocean billows still host unceasingly against
Rockhaven's granite cliffs and toss the rockweeil iiiul
kelpie aloft. The tide still ebbs and flows beneath
the old mill, and the fishcrnion still mend their nets
and sail away. Parson Bush is getting old and
feeble, and his hair white as snow. He still utters
fervent thanks, however, for the many blessings that
have come to this far-off island, including the new
church Jess and Winn were instrumental in build-
ing. The same old bell still hang.; ii. its tower, and
Sunday evenings always answers the one in North-
aven. Its sound is sweet to Winn, for it always re-
calls his boyhood days and marks a turning-point in
his life-history. He is president of the new Rock-
haven Granite Company now, and prosperous. A
beautiful residence of granite stands back of the old
tower on Norse Hill, and there Winn and Mona abide
in summer, though the city claims them winters.
Mona often entertains her friends with her violin.

884

KOCKHAVBN

but no money would tempt her again to play in pub-
lic. Jess still fiddles when he is " lunsum," which is
not often, for a little girl with eyes like Mona's
thinks " Gampa " the most wonderful man who ever
lived. A hoy, two years older, would cut that fiddle
open to find what made the noise, if he got the chance.
They both pursue him from mom till eve and, in
spite of their mother's protest, give him no rest.

"Let 'em have all the fun they kin," he says,
when Mona tries to call them off; " they won't be
young but once, an' when they git old they'L hev'
trouble 'nuff to make up."

Winn and Mona often visit the gorge on pleasant
Sunday afternoons, for the exquisite chords of ro-
mance still vibrate in their hearts. Occasionally she
takes her violin along, and once more the old sweet
love songs whisper out of the cave.

And hidden away in one comer of it, never dis-
turbed, are a few sea-shells and dried starfish.

pub-
b is
na's
ever
ddle
nee.
[, in

lays,
t be
hev'

isant
E ro-
f she
iweet

' dia-