THE 
 CITY 
 OF FIRE 
 
 GRACE LIVINGSTON HILL 
 
 (Mrs. LUTZ) 
 
■ERKELeV 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cityoffireOOhillrich 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
MARILYN WAS AT THE ORGAN AND MARK BY HER SIDE 
 
 Page 329 
 
THE CITY OF 
 
 FIRE 
 
 BY 
 
 
 GRACE LIVINGSTON|HILL 
 
 (MRS. LUTZ) 
 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 
 MARCIA SCHUYLER, 
 
 
 THE ENCHANTED BARN, 
 
 
 THE TRYST, Etc. 
 
 \ 
 
 GROSSET & DUNLAP 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW 
 
 YORK 
 
 1 
 
 Made in the United States of America 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY PEOPLES MONTHLY COMPANY 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY J, 3. UPPINCOTT COMPANY 
 

 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Sabbath Valley lay like a green jewel cupped in 
 the hand of the surrounding mountains with the morning 
 sun serene upon it picking out the clean smooth streets, 
 the white houses with their green bhnds, the maples with 
 their clear cut leaves, the cosy brick school house wide 
 winged and friendly, the vine clad stone church, and the 
 little stone bungalow with low spreading roof that was 
 the parsonage. The word manse had not yet reached the 
 atmosphere. There were no affectations in Sabbath Valley. 
 
 Billy Gaston, two miles away and a few degrees up the 
 mountain side, standing on the little station platform at 
 Pleasant View, waiting for the morning train looked down 
 upon the beauty at his feet and felt its loveliness blindly. 
 A passing thrill of wonder and devotion fled through his 
 fourteen-year-old soul as he regarded it idly. Down there 
 was home and all his interests and loyalty. His eyes dwelt 
 affectionately on the pointing spire and bell tower. He 
 loved those bells, and the one who played them, and under 
 their swelling tones had been awakened new thoughts and 
 lofty purposes. He knew they were lofty. He was not 
 yet altogether sure that they were his, but they were there 
 in his mind for him to think about, and there was a strange 
 awesome lure about their contemplation. 
 
 Down the platform was the new freight agent, a thick- 
 set, rubber-shod individual with a projecting lower jaw 
 and a lowering countenance. He had lately arrived to 
 assist the regular station agent, who lived in a bit of a 
 shack up the mountain and was a thin sallow creature 
 with sad eyes and no muscles, Pleasant View was abso- 
 
 . : 725 
 
« THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 lutely what it stated, a pleasant view and nothing else. 
 The station was a well weathered box that blended into 
 the mountain side imnoticeably, and did not spoil the 
 view. The agent's cabin was hidden by the trees and did 
 not count. But Pleasant View was important as a station 
 because it stood at the intersection of two lines of thread 
 like tracks that slipped among the mountains in different 
 directions ; one winding among the trees and about a clear 
 mountain lake, carried guests for the summer to and fro, 
 and great quantities of baggage and freight from afar ; the 
 other travelled through long tunnels to the world beyond 
 and linked great cities like jewels on a chain. There were 
 lieavy bales and boxes and many trunks to be shifted and 
 it was obvious that the sallow station agent could not do it 
 all. The heavy one had been sent to help him through the 
 rush season. 
 
 In five minutes more the train would come from around 
 the mountain and bring a swarm of ladies and children 
 for the Hotel at the Lake. They would have to be helped 
 off with all their luggage, and on again to the Lake train, 
 which would back up two minutes later. This was Billy's 
 harvest time. He could sometimes make as much as fifty 
 cents or even seventy-five if he struck a generous party, 
 just being generally useful, carrying bags and marshalling 
 babies. It was important that Billy should earn some- 
 thing for it was Saturday and the biggest ball game of 
 the season came off at Monopoly that afternoon. Billy 
 could manage the getting there, it was only ten miles away, 
 but money to spend when he arrived was more than a 
 necessity. Saturday was always a good day at the station. 
 
 Billy had slipped into the landscape unseen. His 
 rusty, trusty old bicycle was parked in a thick huckleberry 
 ^growth just below the grade of the tracks, and Billy him- 
 self stood in the shelter of several immense packing boxes 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 7 
 
 piled close to the station. It was a niche just big enough 
 for his wiry young length with the open station window 
 close at his ear. From either end of the platform he 
 was hidden, which was as it should be until he got ready 
 to arrive with the incoming train. 
 
 The regular station agent was busy checking a high 
 pile of trunks that had come down on the early Lake train 
 from the Hotel and had to be transferred to the New York 
 train. He was on the other side of the station and some 
 distance down the platform. 
 
 Beyond the packing boxes the heavy one worked with 
 brush and paint marking some barrels. If Billy applied an 
 eye to a crack in his hiding place he could watch every 
 stroke of the fat black brush, and see the muscles in the 
 swarthy cheeks move as the man mouthed a big black 
 cigar. But Billy was not interested in the new freight 
 agent, and remained in his retreat, watching the brilliant 
 sunshine shimmer over the blue-green haze of spruce and 
 pine that furred the way down to the valley. He basked 
 in it like a cat blinking its content. The rails were begin^ 
 ning to hum softly, and it would not be long till the 
 train arrived. 
 
 Suddenly Billy was aware of a shadow looming. 
 
 The heavy one had laid down his brush and was 
 stealing swiftly, furtively to the door of the station with a 
 weather eye to the agent on his knees beside a big trunk 
 writing something on a check. Billy drew back like a 
 turtle to his shell and listened. The rail was beginning to 
 sing decidedly now and the telephone inside the grated 
 window suddenly sat up a furious ringing. Billy's eye 
 came round the corner of the window, scanned the empty 
 platform, glimpsed the office desk inside and the weighty 
 figure holding the receiver, then vanished enough to be 
 out of sight, leaving only a wide curious ear to listen : 
 
8 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 "That you Sam? Yep. Nobody about. Train's 
 coming. Hustle up. Anything doing? You don't say! 
 Some big guy? Say, that's good news at last! Get on 
 the other wire and hold it. I'll come as quick as the train's 
 gone. S'long!" 
 
 Billy cocked a curious eye like a flash into the window 
 and back again, ducking behind the boxes just in time 
 to miss the heavy one coming out with an excited air, and 
 a feverish eye up the track where the train was coming into 
 view around the curve. 
 
 In a moment all was stir and confusion, seven women 
 wanting attention at once, and imperious men of the world 
 crying out against railroad regulations. Billy hustled 
 everywhere, transferring bags and suit cases with in- 
 credible rapidity to the other train, which arrived 
 promptly, securing a double seat for the fat woman with 
 the canary, and the poodle in a big basket, depositing the 
 baggage of a pretty lady on the shady side, making him- 
 self generally useful to the opulent looking man with the 
 jewelled rings; and back again for another lot. A whole 
 dollar and fifteen cents jingled in his grimy pocket as 
 the trains finally moved off in their separate directions 
 and the peace of Pleasant View settled down monoton- 
 ously once more. 
 
 Billy gave a hurried glance about him. The station 
 agent was busy with another batch of trunks, but the 
 heavy one was nowhere to be seen. He gave a quick glance 
 through the grated window where the telegraph instru- 
 ment was clicking away sleepily, but no one was there. 
 Then a stir among the pines b^low the track attracted his 
 attention, and stepping to the edge of the bank he caught 
 a glimpse of a broad dusty back lumbering hurriedly 
 down among the branches. 
 
 With a flirt of his eye back to the absorbed station 
 agent Billy was off down the mountain after the heavy 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 9 
 
 one, walking stealthily as any cat, pausing in alert atten- 
 tion, listening, peering out eerily whenever he came to a 
 break in the undergrowth. Like a young mole burrowing 
 he wove his way under branches the larger man must 
 have turned aside, and so his going was as silent as the air. 
 Now and then he could hear the crash of a broken branch 
 or the crackle of a twig, or the rolling of a stone set free by 
 a heavy foot, but he went on like a cat, like a little wood 
 shadow, till suddenly he felt he was almost upon his prey. 
 Then he paused and listened. 
 
 The man was kneeling just below him. He could hear 
 the labored breathing. There was a curious sound of 
 metal and wood, of a key turning in a lock. Billy drew 
 himself softly into a group of cypress and held his breath. 
 Softly he parted the foliage and peered. The man was 
 down upon his knees before a rough box, holding some- 
 thing in his hand which he put to his ear. Billy could not 
 quite see what it was. And now the man began to talk 
 into the box. Billy ducked and listened : 
 
 '' Hello, Sam ! You there ! Couldn't come any 
 quicker, lots of passengers. Lots of freight. What's 
 doing, anyhow ? " 
 
 Billy could hear a faint murmur of words, now and 
 then one gutteral burst out and became distinct, and 
 gradually enough words pieced themselves together to 
 become intelligible. 
 
 " Rich guy! High power machine 
 
 Great catch .... Tonight ! . . . . Got a bet on to get 
 there by sunrise Can't miss him ! " 
 
 Billy lay there puzzled. It sounded shady, but what 
 was the line anyway ? Then the man spoke. 
 
 " Sounds easy Sammy, but how we goin' to kidnap a 
 man in a high power machine? Wreck it of course, but 
 he might get killed and where would be the reward? 
 Besides, he's likely to be a good shot — " 
 
10 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 The voice from the ground again growing clearer: 
 
 " Put something across the road that he'll have to get 
 out and move, like, a fallen tree, or one of you lie in the 
 road beside a car as if you was hurt. I'm sending Shorty 
 and Link. They'll get there about eight o'clock. Beat him 
 to it by an hour anyway, maybe more. Now it's up to 
 you to look after details. Get anyone you want to help till 
 Shorty and Link get there, and pay 'em so in case anything 
 gets them, or they're late. I'll keep you wise from time 
 to time how the guy gets on. I've got my men on the 
 watch along the line." 
 
 " I'd like t' know who I'd get in this God forsaken 
 place!" growled the heavy one, "Not a soul in miles 
 except the agent, and he'd run right out and telegraph for 
 the State constab. Say, Sammy, who is this guy any- 
 way? Is there enough in it to pay for the risk? You 
 know kidnapping ain't any juvenile demeanor. I didn't 
 promise no such stuff as this when I said I'd take a hand 
 over here. Now just a common little hold-up ain't so bad. 
 That could happen on any lonely mountain road. But this 
 here kidnapping, you never can tell how its going to turn 
 out. Might be murder before you got through, especially 
 if Link is along. You know Link! " 
 
 " That's all right, Pat, you needn't worry, this'll go 
 through slick as a whistle, and a million in it if we work 
 it right. The house is all ready — you know where — and 
 never a soul in all the world would suspect. It's far 
 enough away and yet not too far — . You'll make enough 
 cut of this to retire for life if you want to Pat, and no 
 mistake. All you've got to do is to handle it right, and 
 you know your business." 
 
 " Who'd you say he was? '* 
 
 " Shafton, Laurence Shafton, son of the big Shaf ton, 
 you know Shafton and Gates." 
 
 A heavy whistle blended with the whispering pines. 
 
 " You don't say? How much family? " 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 11 
 
 " Mother living, got separate fortune in her own right. 
 Father just dotes on him. Uncle has a big estate on Long 
 Island, plenty more millions there. I think a million is 
 real modest in us to ask, don't you? " 
 
 "Where's he goin' to? What makes you think he'll 
 come this way 'stead of the valley road? " 
 
 " 'Cause he's just started, got all the directions for the 
 way, went over it carefully with his valet. Valet gave me 
 the tip you understand, and has to be in on the rake-off. 
 It's his part to keep close to the family, see ? Guy's goin' 
 down to Beechwood to a house party, got a bet on that he'll 
 make it before daylight. He's bound to pass your moun- 
 tain soon after midnight, see? Are you goin' to do your 
 part, or ain't you ? Or have I got to get a new agent down 
 there ? And say ! I want a message on this wire as soon as 
 the job is completed. Now, you understand? Can you 
 pull it off? " 
 
 It was some time after the key clicked in the lock and 
 the bulky form of the freight agent lumbered up through 
 the pines again before Billy stirred. Then he wriggled 
 around through the undergrowth until he found himself 
 in front of the innocent looking little box covered over 
 with dried grass and branches. He examined it all very 
 carefully, pried underneath with his jack knife, discovered 
 the spot where the wire connected, speculated as to where 
 it tapped the main line, prospected a bit about the place 
 and then on hands and knees wormed himself through the 
 thick growth of the mountain till he came out to the 
 huckleberry clump, and recovering his bicycle walked in- 
 nocently up to the station as if it were the first time that 
 day and enquired of the surly freight man whether a box 
 had come for his mother. 
 
 In the first place Billy hadn't any mother, only an aunt 
 who went out washing and had hard times to keep a decent 
 
n THE CITY OF FERE 
 
 place for Billy to sleep and eat, and she never had a box 
 come by freight in her life. But the burly one did not know 
 that. Just what Billy Gaston did it for, perhaps he did not 
 quite know himself, save that the lure of hanging round a 
 mystery was always great. Moreover it gave him deep 
 joy to know that he knew something about this man that 
 the man did not know he knew. It was always good to 
 know things. It was always wise to keep your mouth shut 
 about them when you knew them. Those were the two 
 most prominent planks in Billy Gaston's present platform 
 and he stood upon them firmly. 
 
 The burly one gave Billy a brief and gruff negative to 
 his query and went on painting barrel labels. He was 
 thinking of other matters, but Billy still hung around. He 
 had a hunch that he might be going to make merchandise 
 in some way of the knowledge that he had gained, so he 
 hung around, silently, observantly, leaning on old 
 rusty-trusty. 
 
 The man looked up and frowned suspiciously : 
 
 " I told you NO ! '* he snapped threateningly, " What 
 you standin' there for? " 
 
 Billy regarded him amusedly as from a superior height. 
 
 " Don't happen to know of any odd jobs I could get," 
 he finally condescended. 
 
 " Where would you expect a job around this dump? " 
 sneered the man with an eloquent wave toward the 
 majestic mountain, " Busy little hive right here now, 
 ain't it?" 
 
 He subsided and Billy, slowly, thoughtfully, mounted 
 his v/heel and rode around the station, with the air of one 
 who enjoys the scenery. The third time he rounded the 
 curve by the freight agent the man looked up with a 
 speculative squint and eyed the boy. The fourth time he 
 called out, straightening up and laying down his brush. 
 
THE CITY OF FIKE 13 
 
 " Say, Kid, do you know how to keep yer mouth shut ?" 
 
 The boy regarded him with infinite contempt. 
 
 " Well, that depends ! " he said at last. " If anybody'd 
 make it worth my while." 
 
 The man looked at him narrowly, the tone was at once 
 so casual and yet so full of possible meaning. The keenest 
 searching revealed nothing in the immobile face of the 
 boy. A cunning grew in the eyes of the man. 
 
 " How would a five look to you ? " 
 
 " Not enough,'' said the boy promptly, " I need 
 twenty-five." 
 
 " Well, ten then." 
 
 " The boy rode off down the platform and circled the 
 station again while the man stood puzzled, half troubled, 
 and watched him : 
 
 "I'll make it fifteen. What you want, the earth with a 
 gold fence around it?" 
 
 " I said I needed twenty-five," said Billy doggedly, 
 lowering his eyes to cover the glitter of coming triumph. 
 
 The thick one stood squinting off at the distant moun- 
 tain thoughtfully, then he turned and eyed Billy again. 
 "How'm I gonta know you're efficient ?" he challenged. 
 
 "Guess you'c'n take me er leave me," came back the 
 boy quickly. " Course if you've got plenty help — " 
 
 The man gave him a quick bitter glance. The kid was 
 sharp. He knew there was no one else. Besides, how 
 much had he overheard? Had he been around when the 
 station telephone rang? Kids like that were deep. You 
 could always count on them to do a thing well if they 
 undertook it. 
 
 "Well, mebbe I'll try you. You gotta be on hand 
 t'night at eight o'clock sharp. It's mebbe an all night job, 
 but you may be through by midnight." 
 
 " What doing? " 
 
 " Nothing much. Just lay in the road with your wheel 
 
14 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 by your side and act like you had a fall an' was hurt. I 
 wanta stop a man who's in a hurry, see? " 
 
 Billy regarded him coolly. 
 
 "Any shooting?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! " said the other, " Just a little evening up 
 of cash. You see that man's got some money that 
 oughtta be mine by good rights, and I wantta get it." 
 
 "/ see! " said Billy nonchalantly, " An' whatcha gonta 
 do if he don't come across? " 
 
 The man gave him a scared look. 
 
 " Oh, nothin' sinful son; just give him a rest fer a few 
 days where he won't see his friends, imtil he gets ready to 
 see it the way I do." 
 
 " H'm ! " said Billy narrowing his gray eyes to two 
 slits. " An' how much did ya say ya paid down ? " 
 
 The man looked up angrily. 
 
 " I don't say I pay nothing down. If you do the work 
 right you get the cash t'night, a round twenty-five, and 
 it's twenty bucks more'n you deserve. Why off in this 
 deserted place you ought ta be glad to get twenty-five cents 
 fer doin' nothin' but lay in the road." 
 
 The boy with one foot on the pedal mounted sideways 
 and slid along the platform slowly, indifferently. 
 
 " Guess I gotta date t'night," he called over his 
 shoulder as he swung the other leg over the cross bar. 
 
 The heavy man made a dive after him and caught him 
 by the arm. 
 
 " Look here. Kid, I ain't in no mood to be toyed with," 
 he said gruffly, " You said you wanted a job an' I'm being 
 square with you. Just to show I'm being square here's 
 five down." 
 
 Billy looked at the ragged green bill with a slight lift 
 of his shoulders. 
 
 " Make it ten down and it's a go," he said at last with a 
 take-it-or-leave-it air. " I hadn't oughtta let you off'n 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 15 
 
 less'n half, such a shady job as this looks, but make it a ten 
 an' 111 close with ya. If ya don't like it ask the station 
 agent to help ya. I guess he wouldn't object. He's right 
 here handy, too. I live off quite a piece." 
 
 But the man had pulled out another five and was 
 crowding the bills upon him. He had seen a light in that 
 boy's eye that was dangerous. What was five in a case of 
 a million anyway? 
 
 Billy received the boodle as if it had been chewing gum 
 oi: a soiled handkerchief, and stuffed it indifferently into 
 his already bulging pocket in a crumple as if it were not 
 worth the effort. 
 
 " A'rright. I'll be here ! " he declared, and mounting 
 his wheel with an air of finality, sailed away down the 
 platform, curved off the high step with a bump into the 
 road and coasted down the road below the tunnel toward 
 Monopoly, leaving Sabbath Valley glistening in the sun- 
 shine off to the right. With all that money in his pocket 
 what was the use of going back to Sabbath Valley for his 
 lunch and making his trip a good two miles farther ? He 
 would beat the baseball team to it. 
 
 The thick one stood disconsolately, his grimy cap in 
 his hand and scratched his dusty head of curls in 2l 
 troubled way. 
 
 '' Gosh ! " he said wrathfully, " The little devil ! Now 
 I don't know what he'll do. I wonder? — ! But what dse 
 could I do?'* 
 
II 
 
 Over in Sabbath Valley quiet sweetness brooded, 
 broken now and again by the bell-like sound of childish 
 laughter here and there. The birds were holding high 
 carnival in the trees, and the bees humming drowsy little 
 tunes to pretend they were not working. 
 
 Most of the men were away at work, some in Monopoly 
 or Economy, whither they went in the early morning in 
 their tin Lizzies to a little store or a country bank, or a 
 dusty law office; some in the fields of the fertile valley; 
 and others off behind the thick willow fringe where lurked 
 the home industries of tanning and canning and knitting, 
 with a plush mill higher up the slope behind a group of 
 alders and beeches, its ugly stone chimneys picturesque 
 against the mountain, but doing its best to spoil the little 
 stream at its feet with all colors of the rainbow, at 
 intervals dyeing its bright waters. 
 
 The minister sat in his study with his window open 
 across the lawn between the parsonage and the church, a 
 lovely velvet view with the old graveyard beyond and the 
 wooded hill behind. He was faintly aware of the shouting 
 of the birds in glad carnival in the trees, and the busy 
 droning of the bees, as he wrote an article on Modem 
 Atheism for a magazine in the distant world; but more 
 keenly alive to the song on the lips of his child, but lately 
 returned from college life in one of the great universities 
 for women. He smiled as he wrote, and a light came in 
 his deep thoughtful eyes. She had gone and come, and 
 she was still unspoiled, mentally, physically, or spiritually. 
 That was a great deal to have kept out of life in these days 
 of unbelief. He had been almost afraid to hope that she 
 would come back the same. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 17 
 
 In the cool sitting-room his wife was moving about, 
 putting the house in order for the day, and he knew that 
 on her Hps also was the smile of the same content as well 
 as if he were looking at her beloved face. 
 
 On the front veranda Marilyn Severn swept the rugs and 
 sang her happy song. She was glad, glad to be home again, 
 and her soul bubbled over with the joy of it. There was 
 happiness in the curve of her red lips, in the softly rounded 
 freshness of her cheek and brow, in the eyes that held 
 dancing lights like stars, and in every gleaming tendril of 
 her wonderful bright hair that burst forth from under 
 the naive little sweeping cap that sat on her head like a 
 crown. She was small, lithe, graceful, and she vibrated 
 joy, health, eagerness in every glance of her eye, every 
 motion of her lovely hands. 
 
 Down the street suddenly sounded a car. Not the 
 rattling, cheap affairs that were commonly used in those 
 parts for hard work and dress affairs, with a tramp 
 snuffle and bark as they bounced along beneath the maples 
 like house dogs that knew their business and made as 
 much noise about it as they could ; but a car with a purr like 
 a soft petted cat by the fire, yet a power behind the purr 
 that might have belonged to a lion if the need for power 
 arose. It stole down the street like a thing of the world, 
 well oiled and perfect in its way, and not needing to make 
 any clatter about its going. The very quietness of it made 
 the minister look up, sent the minister's wife to raise the 
 shade of the sitting-room window, and caused the girl to 
 look up from her task. 
 
 The morning flooded her face, the song was stayed, a 
 great light came into her eyes. 
 
 The man who was driving the car had the air of not 
 expecting to stop at the parsonage. Even when he saw the 
 girl on the porch he held to his way, and something hard 
 and cold and infinitely sad settled down over his face. It 
 
 2 
 
18 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 even looked as though he did not intend to recognize her, 
 or perhaps wasn't sure whether she would recognize him. 
 There was a moment's breathless suspense and the car 
 slid just the fraction past the gate in the hedge, without 
 a sign of stopping, only a lifting of a correct looking straw 
 hat that somehow seemed a bit out of place in Sabbath 
 Valley. But Lynn left no doubt in his mind whether 
 she would recognize him. She dropped her broom and 
 sped down the, path, and the car came to an abrupt halt, 
 only a hair's breadth past the gate, — ^but still — ^that 
 hair's breadth. 
 
 " Oh, Mark, I'm so glad to see you! " she cried genu- 
 inely with her hand out in welcome, " They said you were 
 not at home." 
 
 The boy's voice — ^he had been a boy when she left him, 
 though now he looked strangely hard and old like a man of 
 the world — ^was husky as he answered gravely, swinging 
 himself down on the walk beside her : 
 
 " I just got in late last night. How are you Lynn? 
 You're looking fine." 
 
 He took her offered hand, and clasped it for a brief 
 instant in a warm strong pressure, but dropped it again 
 and there was a quick cold withdrawing of his eyes that 
 she did not understand. The old Mark Carter would never 
 have looked at her coolly, impersonally like that. What 
 was it, was he shy of her after the long separation? Four 
 years was a long time, of course, but there had been 
 occasional letters. He had always been away when she 
 was at home, and she had been home very little between 
 her school years. There had been summer sessions twice 
 and once father and mother had come to her and they had 
 taken a wonderful trip together. But always there had 
 seemed to be Mark Carter, her old friend and playmate, in 
 the background. Now, suddenly he seemed to be removed 
 to indefinite distances. It was as if she were looking at a 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 19 
 
 picture that purported to be her friend, yet seemed a 
 travesty, like one wearing a mask. She stood in the sun- 
 light looking at him, in her quaint little cap and a long 
 white enveloping house apron, and she seemed to him like 
 a haloed saint. Something Hke worship shone in his eyes, 
 but he kept the mask down, and looked at her with the 
 eyes of a stranger while he talked, and smiled a stiff 
 conventional smile. But a look of anguish grew in his 
 young face, like the sorrow of something primeval, such as 
 a great rock in a desert. 
 
 The minister had forgotten his article and was watch- 
 ing them through the window, the tall handsome youth, his 
 head bared with the glint of the sun on his short cropped 
 gold curls making one think of a young prince, yet a prince 
 bound under a spell and frozen in a block of ice. He was 
 handsome as Adonis, every feature perfect, and striking in 
 its manly beauty, yet there was nothing feminine about 
 him. The minister was conscious of all this as he watched 
 — this boy whom he had seen grow up, and this girl of his 
 heart. A great still question came into the father's look 
 as he watched. 
 
 The minister was conscious of Lynn's mother standing 
 in the doorway just behind him, although she had made no 
 noise in entering. And at once she knew he was aware of 
 her presence. 
 
 " Isn't that Mark Carter? " she asked just above 
 a breath. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " And she doesn't know ! You haven't told her? " 
 
 The minister shook his head. 
 
 " He will tell her. See, he is telling her now! " 
 
 The mother drew a shade nearer. 
 
 " But how do you know? See, she is doing the 
 talking. You think he will tell her? What will he tell 
 her, Graham ? '* 
 
20 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 " Oh, he will not tell her in words, but every atom of 
 his being is telling her now. Can't you see? He is telling 
 her that he is no longer worthy to be her equal. He is 
 telling her that something has gone wrong." 
 
 " Graham, what do you think is the matter with him? 
 Do you think he is — BAD? " She lifted frightened eyes 
 to his as she dropped into her low chair that always stood 
 conveniently near his desk. 
 
 A wordless sorrow overspread the minister's face, yet 
 there was something valiant in his eyes. 
 
 " No, I can't think that. I must believe in him in 
 spite of everything. It looks to me somehow as if he was 
 trying to be bad and couldn't." 
 
 "Well, but — Graham, isn't that the same thing? If 
 he wants to be? " 
 
 The minister shook his head. 
 
 " He doesn't want to be. But he has some purpose in 
 it. He is doing it — ^perhaps — well — it might be for her 
 sake you know." 
 
 The mother looked perplexed, and hesitated, then 
 shook her head. 
 
 " That would be — preposterous ! How could he hurt 
 her so — if he cared. It must be — he does not care — ! " 
 
 " He cares! " said the man. 
 
 " Then how do you explain it? " 
 
 " I don't explain it." 
 
 " Are you going to let it go on? " 
 
 "What can be done?" 
 
 " I'd do something." 
 
 " No, Mary. That's something he's got to work out 
 himself. If he isn't big enough to get over his pride. 
 His self -consciousness. His — ^whatever he calls it — If he 
 isn't big enough — Then he isn't big enough — !" The 
 man sighed with a faraway patient look. The woman 
 stirred uneasily. 
 
 " Graham," she said suddenly lifting her eyes in 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 21 
 
 troubled question, " When your cousin Eugenie was here, 
 you remember, she talked about it one day. She said we 
 had no right to let Lynn become so attached to a mere 
 country boy who would grow up a boor. She said he had 
 no education, no breeding, no family, and that Lynn had 
 the right to the best social advantages to be had in the 
 world. She said Lynn was a natural born aristo- 
 crat, and that we had a great responsibility bringing 
 up a child with a face like hers, and a mind like 
 hers, and an inheritance like hers, in this little anti- 
 quated country place. She said it was one thing for you 
 with your culture and your fine education, and your years 
 of travel and experience, to hide yourself here if you 
 choose for a few years, pleasing yourself at playing with 
 souls and uplifting a little comer of the universe while you 
 were writing a great book; but it was quite another for 
 us to allow our gifted young daughter to know no other 
 life. And especially she harped on Lynn's friendship with 
 Mark. She called him a hobbledehoy, said his mother was 
 * common/ and that coming from a home like that, he 
 would never amount to anything or have an education. 
 He would always be common and loaf erish, and it wouldn't 
 make any difference if he did, he would never be cultured 
 no matter how much education he had. He was not in her 
 class. She kept saying that over. She said a lot of things 
 and always ended up with that. And finally she said that 
 we were perfectly crazy, both of us. That she supposed 
 Lynn thought she was christianizing the boy or some- 
 thing, but it was dangerous business, and we ought to be 
 warned. And Graham, Fm: afraid Mark heard it! He 
 was just coming up on the porch as she finished and Fm 
 almost sure he heard it ! " 
 
 The eyes of the minister gave a startled flicker and then 
 grew comprehending. " I wondered why he gave up col- 
 lege after he had worked so hard to get in." 
 
22 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 " But Graliam ! Surely, if he had heard he would have 
 wanted to show her that she was wrong." 
 
 " No, Mary. He is not built that way. It*s his one 
 big fault. Always to be what he thinks people have 
 labeled him, or to seem to be. To be that in defiance, 
 knowing in his heart he really isn't that at all. It's a 
 curious physchological study. It makes me think of nothing 
 else but when the Prince of the Power of the Air wanted 
 to be God. Mark wants to be a young God. When he 
 finds he's not taken that way he makes himself look like 
 the devil in defiance. Don't you remember, Mary, how 
 when Bob Bliss broke that memorial window in the church 
 and said it was Mark did it, how Mark stood looking de- 
 fiantly from one to another of us to see if we would believe 
 it, and when he found the elders were all against him and 
 had begun to get ready for punishment, he lifted his fine 
 young shoulders, and folded his arms, and just bowed in 
 acquiescence, as if to say yes, he had done it? Don't you 
 remember, Mary? He nearly broke my heart that day, 
 the hurt look in his eyes ; the game, mistaken, little devil ! 
 He was only ten, and yet for four long months he bore 
 the blame in the eyes of the whole village for breaking that 
 window, till Bob told the truth and cleared him. Not 
 because he wanted to save Bob Bliss, for everybody knew 
 he was a little scamp, and needed pimishment, but because 
 he was hurt — hurt way down into the soul of him to think 
 anybody had thought he would want to break the window 
 we had all worked so hard to buy. And he actually broke 
 three cellar windows in that vacant store by the post office, 
 yes, and paid for them, just to keep up his character and 
 give us some reason for our belief against him." 
 
 The wife with a cloud of anxiety in her eyes, and dis- 
 approval in her voice, answered slowly : 
 
 " That's a bad trait, Graham. I can't understand it. 
 It is something wrong in his nature." 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 23 
 
 " Yes, Mary, it is sin, original sin, but it comes at him 
 from a different direction from most of us, that's all. It 
 comes through sensitiveness. It is his reaction to a deep 
 and mortal hurt. Some men would be stimulated to finer 
 action by criticism, he is stimulated to defy, and he does 
 not know that he is trying to defy God and all the laws of 
 the universe. Some day he will find it out, and know that 
 only through humility can he make good." 
 
 " But he is letting all his opportunities go by." 
 
 " Tm not so sure. You can't tell what he may be doing 
 out in the world where he is gone." 
 
 " But they say he is very wild." 
 
 " They were always saying things about him when he 
 was here, and most of them were not true. You and I 
 knew him, Mary. Was there ever a finer young soul on 
 earth than he with his clear true eyes, his eager tender 
 heart, his brave fearlessness and strength. I can not think 
 he has sold his soul to sin — ^not yet. It may be. It may be 
 that only in the Far Country will he realize it is God he 
 wants and be ready to say, ' I have sinned ' and ' I 
 will arise.' " 
 
 " But Graham, I should think that just because you 
 believe in him you could talk to him." 
 
 " No, Mary. I can't probe into the depths of that 
 sensitive soul and dig out his confidence. He would never 
 give it that way. It is a matter between himself and God." 
 
 '' But Lynn—" 
 " Lynn has God too, my dear. We must not forget 
 that. Life is not all for this world, either. Thank God 
 Lynn believes that ! " 
 
 The mother sighed with troubled eyes, and rose. The 
 purring of the engine was heard. Lynn would be coming 
 in. They watched the young man swing his car out into 
 the road and glide away like a comet with a wild sophisti- 
 cated snort of his engine that sent him so far away in a 
 
24 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 flash. They watched the girl statiding" where he had left 
 her, a stricken look upon her face, and saw her turn slowly 
 back to the house with eyes down — ^troubled. The mother 
 moved away. The father bent his head upon his hand 
 with closed eyes. The girl came back to her work, but the 
 song on her lips had died. She worked silently with a far 
 look in her eyes, trying to fathom it. 
 
 The eyes of her father and mother followed her ten- 
 derly all that day, and it was as if the souls of the three had 
 dasped hands, and understood, so mistily they smiled at 
 one another. 
 
 Billy Gaston, refreshed by a couple of chocolate fudge 
 sundaes, a banana whip, and a lemon ice-cream soda, was 
 seated on the bench with the heroes of the day at the 
 Monopoly baseball grounds. He wore his most nonchalant 
 air, chewed gumwithhis usual vigor, shouted himself hoarse 
 at the proper places, and made casual grown-up responses 
 to the condescension of the team, wrapping them tenderly 
 in ancient sweaters when they were disabled, and watching 
 every move of the game with a practised eye and an im- 
 mobile countenance. But though to the eyes of the small 
 fry on the grass at his feet he was as self-sufficient as ever, 
 somehow he kept having strange qualms, and his mind kept 
 reverting to the swart fat face of Pat at the Junction, as 
 it ducked behind the cypress and talked into the crude 
 telephone on the mountain. Somehow he couldn't forget 
 the gloat in his eye as he spoke of the " rich guy.'* More 
 and more uneasy he grew, more sure that the expedition 
 to which he was pledged was not strictly " on the square.'* 
 
 Not that Billy Gaston was afraid. The thrill of excite- 
 ment burned along his veins and filled him with a fine ela- 
 tion whenever he thought of the great adventure, and he 
 gave his pocket a protective slap where the " ten bones " 
 still reposed intact. He felt well pleased with himself to 
 have made sure of those. Whatever happened he had that, 
 and if the man wasn't on the square Pat deserved to lose 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 25 
 
 that much. Not that Billy Gaston meant to turn " yellow '* 
 after promising, but there was no telling whether the rest 
 of the twenty-five would be forthcoming or not. He fell 
 to calculating its worth in terms of new sweaters and base- 
 ball bats. If worst came to worst he could threaten to 
 expose Pat and his scheme. 
 
 During the first and second innings these reflections 
 soothed his soul and made him sit immovable with jaws 
 grinding in rythmic harmony with the day. But at the 
 beginning of the third inning one of the boys from his 
 Sunday-school class strolled by and flung himself full 
 length on the grass at his feet where he could see his pro- 
 file just as he had seen it on Sunday while he was listening 
 to the story that the teacher always told to introduce the 
 lesson. He could see the blue of Lynn Sevem^s eyes as 
 she told it, and strangely enough portions of the tale came 
 floating back in trailing mist across the dusty baseball 
 diamond and obscured the sight of Sloppy Hedrick sliding 
 to his base. It was a tale o£ one, Judas, who betrayed his 
 best Friend with a kiss. It came with strange illogical 
 persistence, and seemed curiously incongruous with the 
 sweet air of summer blowing over the hard young faces 
 and dusty diamond. What had Judas to do with a base- 
 ball game, or with Billy Gaston and what he meant to do on 
 the mountain that night? — and earn good money — ! Ah! 
 That was it. Make good money ! But who was he betray- 
 ing he would like to know? Well if it wasn't on the square 
 perhaps he was betraying that same One — Aw — Rats! 
 He wasn't under anybody's thumb and Judas lived centuries 
 ago. He wasn't doing any harm helping a man do some- 
 thing he wasn't supposed to know what. Hang it all! 
 Where was Mark Carter anyway ? Somehow Cart always 
 seemed to set a fella straight. He was Hke Miss Lynn. 
 He saw through things you hadn't even told him about. 
 But this was a man's affair, not a woman's. 
 
 Of course there was another side to it. He could give 
 
26 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 some of the money to Aunt Saxon to buy coal — instead of 
 the sweater — well, maybe it would do both. And he could 
 give some to that fund for the Chinese Mission, Miss Lynn 
 was getting up in the class. He would stop on the way 
 back and give her a whole dollar. He sat, chin in hand, 
 gazing out on the field, quite satisfied with himself, and 
 suddenly some one back by the plate struck a fine clean ball 
 with a click and threw the bat with a resounding ring on 
 the hard ground as he made for a home run. Billy started 
 and looked keenly at the bat, for somehow the ring of it 
 as it fell sounded curiously like the tinkle of silver. Who 
 said thirty pieces of silver? Billy threw a furtive look 
 about and a cold perspiration broke out on his forehead. 
 Queer that old Bible story had to stick itself in. He could 
 see the grieving in the Master's eyes as Judas gave Hini 
 that kiss. She had made the story real. She could do that, 
 and made the boy long somehow to make it up to that be- 
 trayed Master, and he couldn't get away from the feeling 
 that he was falling short. Of course old Pat had said the 
 man had money belonging to him, and you had to go 
 mostly by what folks said, but it did look shady. 
 
 The game seemed slow after that The two captains 
 were wrangling over some point of rule, and the umpire 
 was trying to pacify them both. Billy arose with well 
 feigned languor and remarked, " Well, I gotta beat it. 
 Guess we're gonta win all right. So long! " and lounged 
 away to his w^heel. 
 
 He purchased another soda at the drug store to get one 
 of his fives changed into ones, one of which he stowed 
 away in his breast pocket, while the remainder was stuffed 
 in his trousers after the manner of a man. He bent low 
 over his handle bars, chewing rythmically and pedaled 
 away rapidly in the direction of Sabbath Valley. 
 
Ill 
 
 The bells of the little stone church were playing tender 
 melodies as he shot briskly down the maple lined street at 
 a break neck pace, and the sun was just hovering on the 
 rim of the mountain. The bells often played at sunset, 
 especially Saturday evenings, when Maril}^ Severn was 
 at home, and the village loved to hear them. Billy wouldn't 
 have owned it, but he loved to hear those bells play better 
 than anything else in his young life, and he generally 
 managed to be around when they were being played. He 
 loved to watch the slim young fingers manipulating the glad 
 sounds. A genius who had come to the quiet hill village 
 to die of an incurable disease had trained her and had left 
 the wonderful little pipe organ with its fine chime of bells 
 attached as his memorial to the peace the village had given 
 him in his last days. Something of his skill and yearning 
 had fallen upon the young girl whom he had taught. Billy 
 always felt as if an angel had come and was ringing the 
 hells of heaven when Marilyn sat at the organ playing 
 the bells. 
 
 This night a ray of the setting sun slanting through 
 the memorial window on her bronze gold hair gave her 
 the look of Saint Cecilia sitting there in the dimness of 
 the church. Billy sidled into a back seat still chewing and 
 watched her. He could almost see a halo in yellow gold 
 sun dust circling above her hair. Then a sudden revulsion 
 came with the thought of " that guy Judas " and the pos- 
 sibility that he and the old fellow had much in common. 
 But Bah ! He would go to the mountain just to prove to 
 himself that there was nothing crooked in it. 
 
 The music was tender that night and Billy felt a strange 
 constriction in his throat. But you never would have 
 
 27 
 
28 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 guessed, as Lynn Severn turned at the end of her melody 
 to search the dimness for the presence she felt had entered, 
 that he had been iinder any stress of emotion, the way he 
 grinned at her and sidled up the aisle. 
 
 " Yeah, we won awright," in answer to her question, 
 " Red Rodge and Sloppy had 'em beat from the start. 
 Those other guys can't play ball an)rway." 
 
 Then quite casually he brought forth the dollar from 
 his breast pocket. 
 
 " Fer the Qiinese Fund," he stated indifferently. 
 
 The look in her, face was beautiful to see, almost as if 
 there were tears behind the sapphire lights in her eyes. 
 
 "Billy! All this?'' 
 
 He felt as if she had knighted him. He turned red and 
 hot with shame and pleasure. 
 
 "Aw, that ain't much. I earned sommore too, fer 
 m'yant." He twisted his cap around on his other hand 
 roughly and then blurted out the last thing he had meant 
 to say : 
 
 " Miss Lynn, it ain't wrong to do a thing you don't 
 know ain't wrong, is it ? " 
 
 Maril)m looked at him keenly and laughed. 
 
 " It generally is, Billy, if you think it might be. Don't 
 ever try to fool your conscience, Billy, it's too smart 
 for that." 
 
 He grinned sheepishly and then quite irrelevantly 
 remarked : 
 
 " I saw Cart last night" 
 
 But she seemed to understand the connection and 
 nodded gravely: 
 
 " Yes, I saw him a moment this morning. He said 
 he might come back again this evening. " 
 
 The boy grunted contentedly and watched the warm 
 color of her cheek under the glow of the ruddy sunset. 
 She always seemed to him a little bit unearthly in the star- 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 29 
 
 riness of her beauty. Of course he never put it to himself 
 that way. In fact he never put it at all. It was just a fact 
 in his life. He had two idols whom he worshipped from 
 afar, two idols who understood him equally well and were 
 understood by him, and for whom he would have gladly laid 
 down his young life. This girl was one, and Mark Carter 
 was the other. It was the sorrow of his young life that 
 Mark Carter had left Sabbath Valley indefinitely. The 
 stories that floated back of his career made no difference 
 to Billy. He adored him but the more in his fierce young 
 soul, and gloried in his hero's need of faithful friends. 
 He would not have owned it to himself, perhaps, but he 
 had spoken of Mark just to find out if this other idol 
 believed those tales and was affected by them. He drew a 
 sigh of deep content as he heard the steady voice and knew 
 that she was still the young man's friend. 
 
 They passed out of the church silently together and 
 parted in the glow of red that seemed flooding the quiet 
 village like a painting. She went across the stretch of 
 lawn to the low spreading veranda where her mother sat 
 talking with her father. Some crude idea of her beauty 
 and grace stole through his soul, but he only said 
 to himself: 
 
 " How, — kind of — little she is ! " and then made a dash 
 for his rusty old wheel lying flat at the side of the church 
 step. He gathered it up and wheeled it around the side of 
 the church to the old graveyard, threading his way imong 
 the graves and sitting down on a broad flat stone where 
 he had often thought out his problems of life. The 
 shadow of the church cut off the glow of sunset, and made 
 it seem silent and dark. Ahead of him the Valley lay. 
 Across at the right it stretched toward the Junction, and 
 he could see the evening train just pufling in with a wee 
 wisp of white misty smoke trailing against the moimtain 
 green. The people for the hotels would be swarming off. 
 
30 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 for it was Saturday night. The fat one would be there 
 rolling trunks across and the station agent would presently- 
 close up. It would be dark over there at eight o'clock. The 
 mountains loomed silently, purpling and steep and hazy 
 already with sleep. 
 
 To the left lay the road that curved up to the forks 
 where one went across to the Highway and at right angles 
 the Highway went straight across the ridge in front of 
 him and sloped down to the spot where the fat one 
 expected him to play his part at eight o'clock to-night. 
 The Highway was the way down which the " rich guy '* 
 was expected to come speeding in a high power car from 
 New York, and had to be stopped and relieved of money 
 that '* did not belong to him." 
 
 Billy thought it all over. Somehow things seemed dif- 
 ferent now. He had by some queer psychological process 
 of his own, brought Lynn Severn's mind and Mark 
 Carter's mind together to bear upon the matter and gained 
 a new perspective. He was pretty well satisfied in his own 
 soul that the thing he had set out to do was not " on 
 the level." ll began to be pretty plain to him that that 
 " rich guy " might be in the way of getting hurt or per- 
 haps still worse, and he had no wish to be tangled up in a 
 mess like that. At the same time he did not often get a 
 chance to make twenty-five dollars, and he had no mind 
 to give it up. It was not in his unyellow soul to go back 
 on his word without refunding the money, and a dollar of 
 it was already spent to the " Chinese Fund," to say nothing 
 of simdaes and sodas and whips. So he sat and studied the 
 mountain ahead of him. 
 
 Suddenly, as the sun, which had been for a long time 
 slipping down behind the mountains at his back, finally 
 disappeared, his face cleared. He had found a solution. 
 
 He sprang up from the cold stone, where his fingers 
 had been mechanically feeling out the familiar letters of 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE SI 
 
 the inscription : " Blessed are the dead — '' and catching up 
 the prone wheel, strode upon it and dashed down the 
 darkening street toward the little cottage near the willows 
 belonging to his Aunt Saxon. He was whistling as he went, 
 for he was happy. He had found a way to keep his cake 
 and eat it too. It would not have been Billy if he had not 
 found a way out. 
 
 Aunt Saxon turned a drawn and anxious face away 
 from the window at his approach and drew a sigh of 
 momentary relief. This bringing up boys was a terrible 
 ordeal. But thanks be this immediate terror was past and 
 her sister's orphaned child still lived ! She hurried to the 
 stove where the waiting supper gave forth a pleasant odor. 
 
 " Been down to the game at M'nop'ly," he explained 
 happily as he flimg breezily into the kitchen and dashed 
 his cap on a chair, " Gee ! That ham smells good ! Say, 
 Saxy, whad-ya do with that can of black paint I left on the 
 door step last Saturday? " 
 
 " It's In a wooden box in the corner of the shed, 
 Willie," answered his Aunt, "Come to supper now. It'll 
 all get cold. I've been waiting most an hour," 
 
 " Oh, hang it ! I don't s'pose you know where the 
 brush Is — Yes, I'm coming. Oh, here 'tis ! " 
 
 He ate ravenously and briefly. His aunt watched him 
 with a kind of breathless terror waiting for the Inevitable 
 remark at the close : " Well, I gotta beat it ! I gotta date 
 with the fellas!" 
 
 She had ceased to argue. She merely looked distressed. 
 It seemed a part of his masculinity that was inevitable. 
 
 At the door he was visited with an unusual thoughtful- 
 ness. He stuck his head back in the room to say : 
 
 " Oh, yes, Saxy, I might not be home till morning. I 
 might stay all night some place." 
 
 He was going without further explanation, but her 
 dismay as she murmured pathetically: 
 
32 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 "But to-morrow is the Sabbath, Willie—!" halted 
 him once more. 
 
 '*Oh, I'll be home time fer Sunday-school," he 
 promised gaily, and was off down the road in the darkness, 
 his old wheel squeaking rheumatically with each revolu- 
 tion growing fainter and fainter in the night. 
 
 But Billy did not take the road to the Junction in his 
 rapid flight. Instead he climbed the left hand mountain 
 road that met the Forks and led to the great Highway. 
 Slower and slower the old wheel went, Billy puffing and 
 bending low, till finally he had to dismount and put a drop 
 of oil in a well known spot which his finger found in the 
 dark, from the little can he carried in his pocket for such a 
 time of need. He did not care to proclaim his coming as he 
 crept up the rough steep way. And once when a tin Lizzie 
 swept down upon him, he ducked and dropped into the 
 fringe of alders at the wayside until it was past. Was that, 
 could it have been Cart? It didn't look like Cart's car, but 
 it was very dark, and the man had not dimmed his lights. 
 It was blinding. He hoped it was Cart, and that he had 
 gone to the parsonage. Somehow he liked to think of those 
 two together. It made his own view of life seem stronger. 
 So he slunk quietly up to the fork where the Highway 
 swept down round a curve, and turned to go down across 
 the ridge. Here was the spot where the rich guy would 
 presently come. He looked the ground over, with his bike 
 safely hidden below road level. With a sturdy set of 
 satisfaction to his shoulders, and a twinkle of fun in his 
 eye, he began to burrow into the undergrowth and find 
 branches, a fallen log, stones, anything, and drag them 
 up across the great state highway till he had a com- 
 plete barricade. 
 
 There had come a silverness in the sky over the next 
 eastern mountain, and he could see the better what he was 
 doing. Now and again he stopped cautiously and listened, 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 33 
 
 his heart beating" high with fear lest after all the rich guy 
 might arrive before he was ready for him. When the 
 obstruction was finished he got out a large piece of card 
 board which had been fastened to the handle bars of 
 his wheel, and from a box also fastened on behind his sad- 
 dle he produced his can of paint and a brush. The moon 
 was beginning to show off at his right, and gave a faint 
 luminus gleam, as he daubed his letters in crudely. 
 ''DETOUR to SABBATH VALLEY. 
 Rode flooded. Brige down." 
 
 His card was large, but so were his letters. Neverthe- 
 less in spite of their irregularity he got them all on, and 
 fastened the card firmly to the most obvious spot in the 
 barricade. Then with a wicked gleam. of mischief in his 
 eye he looked off down the Highway across the ridge to 
 where some two miles away one Pat must be awaiting his 
 coming, and gave a single mocking gesture common to 
 boys of his age. Springing on his wheel he coasted down 
 the humps and into the darkness again. 
 
 He reflected as he rode that no harm could possibly be 
 done. The road inspector would not be along for a couple 
 of days. It would simply mean that a number of cars 
 would go around by the way of Sabbath Valley for a day 
 or so. It might break up a little of the quiet of the Sabbath 
 day at home, but Billy did not feel that that would 
 permanently injure Sabbath Valley for home purposes, 
 and he felt sure that no one could possibly ever detect his 
 hand in the matter. 
 
 The road at the forks led four ways. Highway, coming 
 from New York and the Great North East, running North 
 and South, and the Cross road coming from Economy 
 and running through Sabbath Valley to Monopoly. He 
 had made the Detour below the Cross Road, so that people 
 coming from Economy would find no hindrance to their 
 progress. He felt great satisfaction in the whole matter, 
 s 
 
34 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 And now there remained but to do his part and get his 
 money. He thought he saw a way to make sure of that 
 money, and his conscience had no qualms for extracting it 
 from so crooked a thief as Pat. 
 
 The clock on the church tower at Sabbath Valley was 
 finishing the last stroke of eleven when Billy came slickly 
 up the slope of the road from Sabbath Valley, and arrived 
 on the station platform nonchalantly. 
 
 By the light of the moon he could dimly see Pat 
 standing uneasily off by the tracks, and the heads of two 
 men down below in the bushes near the lower end of the 
 Highway where it crossed the tracks and swept on South 
 between two mountains. 
 
 Pat held his watch in his hand and looked very ugly, 
 but nothing fazed Billy. He didn't have to carry this thing 
 out if he didn't want to, and the man knew he knew too 
 much to be ugly to him. 
 
 " There you are, you young Pill you ! " was Pat's 
 greeting, " What kinduva time is this 'ere to be coming 
 along to your expensive job? I said eight!'' 
 
 " Oh," said Billy with a shrug and jimiped to his wheel 
 again, " Then I guess I'll be going back. Good night ! '* 
 
 " Here ! Wait up there, you young devil ! You come 
 mighty nigh dishing the whole outfit, but now you're here, 
 you'll earn your ten bucks I was fool enough to give you, 
 but nothing more, do you hear that ? " and the man leered 
 into his freckled young face with an ugly gun in his hand. 
 
 Billy eyed the gun calmly. He had seen guns before. 
 Moreover he didn't believe the man had the nerve to shoot. 
 He wasn't quite so sure of the two dark shadows in the 
 bushes below, but it was well to be on the safe side. 
 
 " Keep yer shirt on," said Billy impertinently, " and 
 save yer powder. You don't want the whole nation to 
 know about this little affair of ours do you Patf " 
 
 The wide one glared. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 35 
 
 " Well, you better not have anything like shooting 
 going on, f er IVe got some friends back here a little way 
 waiting to joy ride back with me when my work's over. 
 They might get funny if they heard a gun and come 
 too soon." 
 
 ** You little devil, you ! I mighta known you'd give it 
 away — ! " he began, but he lowered the gun perceptibly. 
 " Every little skunk like you is yella — ^yella as the devil — '' 
 
 But Pat did not finish his sentence, for Billy, with a 
 blaze in his eyes like the lamps of a tiger, and a fierce young 
 cat-like leap flew at the flabby creature, wrenched the gun 
 out of his astonished hand, and before he could make any 
 outer}' held it tantalizingly in his face. Billy had never 
 had any experience before with bullies and bandits except 
 in his dreams; but he had played football, and tackled 
 every team in the Valley, and he had no fear of anything. 
 Moreover he had spent long hours boxing and wrestling 
 with Mark Carter, and he was hard as nails and wiry as 
 a cat. The fat one was completely in his hands. Of 
 course those other two down across the tracks might have 
 made trouble if Pat had cried out, but they were too far 
 away to see or hear the silent scuffle on the platform. But 
 Billy was taking no chances. 
 
 " Now, keep on yer shirt, Pat, and don't make no out- 
 cry. My friends can get here's easy as yours, so just take 
 it quiet. All you gotta do is take that remark back you 
 just uttered. I ain't yella, and you gotta say so. Then you 
 hand over those fifteen bones, and I'm yer man." 
 
 It was incredible that Pat should have succumbed, but 
 he did. Perhaps he was none too sure of his friends in 
 the bushes. Certainly the time was getting short and he was 
 in a hurry to get to his job on the Highway. Also he had 
 no mind for being discovered or interrupted. At any rate 
 with a hoarse little laugh of pretended courage he put his 
 hand in his baggy pocket and pulled out the bills. 
 
36 THE CITY OF FERE 
 
 " You win, Kid," he admitted, " I guess your^e all 
 white. An3rthing to please the baby and get down to biz. 
 Now, sonny, put that gun away, it don't look well. Be- 
 sides, I — got another." He put his hand insinuatingly to 
 his hip pocket with a grin, but Billy's grin answered back : 
 
 " That's all right, pard. I'll just keep this one awhile 
 then. You don't need two. Now, what's wanted?" 
 
 Pat edged away from the boy and measured him with 
 his eye. The moon was coming up and Billy loomed large 
 in the darkness. There was a determined set to his firm 
 young shoulders, a lithe alertness about his build, and a 
 fine glint in his eye. Pat was really a coward. Besides, 
 Pat was getting nervous. The hidden telephone had called 
 him several times already. He could hear even now in 
 imagination its faint click in the moss. The last message 
 had said that the car had passed the state line and would 
 soon be coming to the last point of communication. After 
 that it was the mountain highway straight to Pleasant 
 View, nothing to hinder. It was not a time to waste in 
 discussion. Pat dropped to an ingratiating whine. 
 
 " Come along then. Kid. Yes, bring your wheel. 
 We'll want it. Down thi^ way, just over the tracks, so, 
 see ? We want you to fall off that there wheel an' sprawl 
 in the road like you had caught yer wheel on the track an' 
 it had skidded, see ? Try her now, and just lay there like 
 you was off your feed." 
 
 Billy slung himself across his wheel, gave a cursory 
 glance at the landscape, took a nmning slide over the tracks 
 with a swift pedal or two and slumped in a heap, lying 
 motionless as the dead. He couldn't have done it more 
 effectively if he had practised for a week. Pat caught his 
 breath and stooped over anxiously. He didn't want a 
 death at the start. He wouldn't care to be responsible for 
 a concussion of the brain or anything like that. Besides, 
 he couldn't waste time fooling with a fool kid when the 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 37 
 
 real thing might be along any minute. He glanced anx- 
 iously up the broad white ribbon of a road that gleamed 
 now in the moonlight, and then pulling out his pocket flash, 
 flooded it swiftly over Billy's upturned freckled face that 
 lay there still as death without the flicker of an eyelash. 
 The man was panic-stricken. He stooped lower, put out a 
 tentative finger, turned his flash full in the boy's face 
 again, and was just about to call to his helpers for aid 
 when Billy opened a large eye and solemnly winked. 
 
 Pat shut off his flash quickly, stuck it in his pocket 
 backed off with a low relieved, " All right Kid, you'll do. I 
 guess you're all right after all, now you jest lay — ! " and 
 slid away down the slope into the C)^ress clump. 
 
 Billy with upturned face eyed the moon and winked 
 again, as if to a friend up there in the sky. He was 
 thinking of the detour two miles up the road. 
 
 It was very pleasant lying there in the cool moonlighti 
 with the evening breeze blowing his rough hair and play- 
 ing over his freckles, and with the knowledge of those 
 twenty-four bucks safely buttoned inside his sweater, and 
 that neat little gun in his pocket where he could easily close 
 his fingers about it. The only thing he regretted was that 
 for conscience sake he had had to put up that detour. It 
 would have been so much more exciting than to have 
 put up this all-night camouflage and wait here till dawn 
 for a guy that wasn't coming at all. He began to think 
 about the " guy '' and wonder if he would take the detour 
 to Sabbath Valley, or turn back, or perhaps try Economy. 
 That would be disappointing. He would stand no chance 
 of even hearing what like he was. Now if he went through 
 Sabbath Valley, Red or Sloppy or Rube would be sure to 
 sight a strange car, particularly if it was a high power 
 racer or something of that sort, and they could discuss it, 
 and he might be able to find out a few points about this 
 unknown whom he was so nobly delivering for conscience 
 
38 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 sake — or Lynn Severn's — from an unknown fate. Of 
 course he wouldn't let the fellows know he knew anything 
 about the guy. 
 
 He had lain there fifteen minutes and was beginning 
 to grow drowsy after his full day in the open air. If it 
 were not for the joke of the thing he couldn't keep awake. 
 
 Pat stole out from the weeds at the slope of the road 
 and whispered sepulchraly: 
 
 " That's all right, Kid, jest you lay there and hold that 
 pose. You couldn't do better. Yer wheel finishes the 
 blockade. Nobody couldn't get by if he tried. That's the 
 Kid ! 'Clare if I don't give you another five bucks t'morrer 
 if you carry this thing through. Don't you get cold 
 feet now — ! " 
 
 Billy uttered a guttural of contempt in his throat and 
 Pat slid away to hiding once more. The distant bells 
 struck the midnight hour. Billy thrilled with their sweet- 
 ness, with the fact that they belonged to him, that he had 
 sat that very evening watching those white fingers among 
 the keys, manipulating them. He thought of the glint on 
 her hair, — the halo of dusty gold in the sunshine above — 
 the light in her eyes — the glow of her cheek — ^her delicate 
 profile against the memorial window — ^the glint of her 
 hair — it came back, not in those words, but the vision of 
 it — what was it like ? Oh — of course. Cart's hair. The 
 same color. They were alike, those two, and yet very dif- 
 ferent. When he had grown a man he would like to be 
 like Cart. Cart was kind and always understood when you 
 were not feeling right. Cart smoothed the way for people 
 in trouble — old women and animals, and well — girls 
 sometimes. He had seen him do it. Other people didn't 
 always understand, but he did. Cart always had a reason. 
 It took men to understand men. That thought had a good 
 sound to the boy on his back in the moonlight. Although 
 he felt somewhat a fool lying there waiting in the road 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 39 
 
 when all the time there was that Detour. It would have 
 been more a man's job if there hadn't had to be tha: 
 Detour, but he couldn't run risks with strange guys, and 
 men who carried guns, not even for — well, thirty pieces of 
 silver — ! But hark ! What was that ? 
 
 There seemed to be a singing along the ground. Was 
 he losing his nerve lying here so long? No, there it was 
 again ! It couldn't be possible that he could hear so far as 
 two miles up that road. It was hard and smooth macadam 
 of course, that highway, but it couldn't be that — ^what was 
 it they called it? — vibrations? — would reach so far! It 
 must be. He would ask Cart about that. 
 
 The humming continued and grew more distinct, fol- 
 lowed by a sort of throbbing roar that seemed coming tow- 
 ard him, and yet was still very far away. It must be a car 
 at the Detour. In a moment it would turn down the bumpy 
 road toward Sabbath Valley, and very likely some of those 
 old broken whiskey bottles along the way would puncture 
 a tire and the guy would take till morning getting any- 
 where. Perhaps he could even get away in time to come 
 up innocently enough and help him out. A guy like that 
 might not know how to patch a puncture. 
 
 But the sound was distinctly coming on. Billy opened 
 one eye, then the other, and hastily scanned the sky in 
 either direction for an aeroplane, but the sky was as clear 
 as crystal without a speck, and the sound was distinctly 
 drawing nearer. 
 
 A voice from the roadside hurtled sharply across: 
 
 "Hist! There! He's coming! Lay still! Remember 
 you get five more bucks if you pull this off ! " 
 
 A cold chill crept down Billy's back on tiny needle- 
 pointed fringe of feet like a centipede. There was a sudden 
 constriction in his throat and a leaden weight on each 
 eye. He could not have opened them if he had tried, for a 
 great white light stabbed across them and seemed to be 
 
40 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 holding them down for inspection. The thing he had 
 wanted to have happen had come, and he was frightened ; 
 frightened cold clear to the soul of him — ^not at the thing 
 that was about to come, but at the fact that he had broken 
 faith with himself after all ; broken faith with the haloed 
 girl at the organ in the golden light; broken faith — for 
 thirty pieces of silver! In that awful moment he was 
 keenly conscious of the fact that when he got the other five 
 there would be just thirty dollars for the whole ! Thirty 
 pieces of silver and the judgment day already coming on! 
 
IV 
 
 Lynn Severn was restless as she sat on the porch in 
 the cool dark evening and heard unheeding the small village 
 sounds that stole to her ears. The laughter of two children 
 playing hide and seek behind the bushes across the way ; 
 the call of their mother summoning them to bed. The 
 tinkle of a piano down the street; the whine of a Victrola 
 in another home ; the cry of a baby in pain ; the murmur of 
 talk on the porch next door ; the slamming of a door ; the 
 creak of a gate ; footsteps going down the brick pavement ; 
 the swinging to and fro of a hammock holding happy lovers 
 under the rose pergola at Joneses. She could identify them 
 all, and found her heart was listening for another sound, 
 a smooth running car that purred, coming down the street. 
 But it did not come ! 
 
 By and by she slipped out and into the church, opening 
 one window to let in the moonlight, and unlocking the organ 
 by the sense of feeling. Her fingers strayed along the keys 
 in tender wandering melodies, but she did not pull the 
 stop that controlled the bells. She would have liked to 
 play those bells and call through them to Mark across the 
 moimtains where he might be riding, call to tell him that 
 she was waiting, call to ask him why he was so strangely 
 aloof, so silent, and pale in his dignity; what had come 
 between them, old friends of the years ? She felt she could 
 say with the bells what her lips could never speak. But the 
 bells would cry her trouble to the villagers also, and she 
 could not let them hear. So she played soft melodies of 
 trust and hope and patience, until her father came to find 
 her, and linking his arm in hers walked back with her 
 through the moonlight, not asking anything, only seeming 
 to understand her mood. He was that way always. He 
 
 41 
 
42 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 could understand without being told. Somehow she felt 
 it and was comforted. He was that way with everybody. 
 It was what made him so beloved in his parish, which 
 comprised the whole Valley, that and his great sincerity 
 and courage. But always his sense of understanding 
 seemed keenest with this flower-faced girl of his. He 
 seemed to have gone ahead of her way always to see that 
 all was right — or wrong — and then walked with her to be 
 sure she did not stumble or miss her way. He never at- 
 teimpted to reason her out of herself, nor to minimize her 
 trials, but was just there, a strong hold when she needed it. 
 She looked up with a smile and slipped her hand in his. 
 She understood his perfect sympathy, as if his own past 
 youth were touching hers and making her know that what- 
 ever it was she had to face she w^ould come through. He 
 was like a symbol of God's strength to her. Somehow the 
 weight was lifted from her heart. They lingered on the 
 piazza together in the moonlight a few minutes, speaking 
 quietly of the morrow and its duties, then they went into 
 the wide pleasant living room, and sat down, mother and 
 daughter near together, while the father read a portion : 
 
 " He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall 
 abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 
 
 " I will say of the Lord, he is my refuge and my fortress : my 
 God; in him will I trust. 
 
 " Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and 
 from the noisome pestilence. 
 
 "He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings 
 shalt thou trust." 
 
 The words seemed to fill the room with a sweet peace, 
 and to draw the hearts of the listeners as a Voice that is 
 dear draws and soothes after a day of separation and tur- 
 moil and distress. 
 
 They knelt and the minister's voice spoke familiarly 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 43 
 
 to the Unseen Presence, giving thanks for mercies received, 
 mentioning Httle throbbing personalities that belonged to 
 them as a family and as individuals, reminding one of what 
 it must have been in the days before Sin had come and 
 Adam walked and talked with God in the cool of the even- 
 ing, and received instruction and strengthening straight 
 from the Source. One listening would instinctively have 
 felt that here was the secret of the great strength of Lynn 
 Severn's life ; the reason why neither college nor the v/orld 
 had been able to lure her one iota from her great and simple 
 faith which she had brought with her from her Valley 
 home and taken back again imsullied. This family altar 
 was the heart of her home, and had brought her so near to 
 God that she knew what she had believed and could not 
 be shaken from it by any flippant words from lovely or 
 wise lips that only knew the theory of her belief and 
 nothing of its spirit and tried to argue it away with a fine 
 phrase and a laugh. 
 
 So Lynn went up to her little white chamber that 
 looked out upon the quiet hills, knelt awhile beside the 
 >vhite bed in the moonlight, then lay down and slept. 
 
 Out among the hills on the long smooth road in the white 
 moonlight there shot a car like a living thing gone crazy, 
 blaring a whiter light than the moonlight down the way, 
 roaring and thundering as only a costly and well groomed 
 beast of a machine can roar and thunder when it is driven 
 by hot blood and a mad desire, stimulated by frequent 
 applications from a handy flask, and a will that has never 
 known a curb. 
 
 He knew it was a mad thing he was doing, rushing 
 across space through the dark at the beck of a woman's 
 smile, a woman who was another man's wife, but a woman 
 who had set on fire a whole circle of men of which he was 
 a part. He was riding against all caution to win a bet, 
 
44 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 riding against time to get there before two other men who 
 were riding as hard from other directions to win the 
 woman who belonged to an absent husband, win her and run 
 away with her if he could. It was the culmination of a 
 year of extravagances, the last cry in sensations, and the 
 telephone wires had been hot with daring, wild allurement, 
 and mad threat in several directions since late the 
 night before. 
 
 The woman was in a great summer hotel where 
 extravagances of all sorts are in vogue, and it had been 
 her latest game to call with her lute-like voice over the 
 phone to three of her men friends who had wooed her 
 the strongest, daring them all to come to her at once, prom- 
 ising to fly with the one who reached her first, but if none 
 reached her before morning dawned she remained as she 
 was and laughed at them all. 
 
 Laurence Shafton had closed with the challenge at 
 once and given orders for his car to be ready to start in ten 
 minutes. From a southern city about an equal distance 
 from the lady, one Percy Emerson, of the Wellington- 
 Emersons, started about the same time, leaving a trail of 
 telegrams and phone messages to be sent after his de- 
 parture. The third man, Mortimer McMarter, a hot- 
 headed, hot-blooded scot, had started with the rest, for 
 the lady knew her lovers well, and not one would refuse ; 
 but he was lying dead at a wayside inn with his car a heap 
 of litter outside from having collided with a truck that was 
 minding its own business and giving plenty of room to any 
 sane man. This one was not sane. But of this happening 
 not even the lady knew as yet, for Mortimer McMarter 
 was not one to leave tales behind him when he went out 
 of life, and the servants who had sent his messages were 
 far away. 
 
 The clock in the car showed nearly twelve and the 
 >vay was long ahead. But he would make it before the 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 45 
 
 dawn. He must. He stepped on the accelerator and shot 
 round a curve. A dizzy precipice yawned at his side. He 
 took another pull at the flask he carried and shot on wildly 
 through the night. Then suddenly he ground on his 
 brakes, the machine twisted and snarled like an angry beast 
 and came to a stand almost into the arms of a barricade 
 across the road. The young man hurled out an oath, and 
 leaned forward to look, his eyes almost too blood-shot 
 and blurred to read : 
 
 "DETOUR to Sabbath Valley! " 
 
 He laughed aloud. " Sabbath Valley! " He swore and 
 laughed again, then looked down the way the rude arrow 
 pointed, " Well, I like that! Sabbath Valley. That'll be 
 a good joke to tell, but I'll make it yet or land in hell — ! " 
 He started his car and twisted it round to the rougher 
 road, feeling the grind of the broken glass that strewed 
 the way. Billy had done his work thoroughly, and antici- 
 pated well what would happen. But those tires were costly 
 affairs. They did not yield to the first cut that came, 
 and the expensive car built for racing on roads as smooth 
 as glass bumped and jogged down into the ruts and 
 started toward Sabbath Valley, with the driver pulling 
 again at his almost empty flask, and swaying giddily in 
 his seat. Half a mile farther down the mountain, the car 
 gave a gasp, like the flitting soul of a dying lion, and came 
 with sudden grinding breaks to a dead stop in the heart of 
 a deep wood. 
 
 Five minutes later another car, with a soft purring 
 engine came up to the Crossroads from Economy, slowed 
 just a fraction as it crossed the Highway, the driver looking 
 keenly at the barricade, then stopping his car with a sudden 
 jerk and swinging out. He turned a Jx>cket flash on the 
 big card board Billy had erected, its daubed letters still wet 
 and blurring into the pasteboard. He looked a bit quizzical 
 
46 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 over the statement, "RODE FLOODED, BRIGE 
 DOWN,*' because he happened to know there was no 
 bridge and nothing to flood the road for several miles 
 ahead. He examined the barricade carefully, even down 
 to the broken glass in the road, then deliberately, swiftly, 
 with his foot kicked away the glass, cleared a width for 
 his car, and jumping in backed up, turned and started 
 slowly down the condemned road to investigate. Some- 
 thing was wrong down the highway, and the sooner it was 
 set right the better. There was one thing, he wished he 
 had his gun with him, but then — ! And he swung on 
 down for two miles, going faster and faster, seeing 
 nothing but white still road, and quiet sleeping trees, with 
 looming mountains against the sky everywhere. Then, 
 suddenly, across the way in the blare of his lights a white 
 face flashed into view, and a body, lying full across the 
 road, with a bicycle flung to one side completing the block. 
 He brought his car to a quick stand and jumped out, but 
 before he could take one step or even stoop, someone 
 caught him from behind, and something big and dark 
 and smothering was flung over his head. A heavy blow 
 seemed to send him whirling, whirling down into infinite 
 space, with a long tongue of living fire leaping up to 
 greet him. 
 
 " Beat it. Kid, and keep yer face shut ! '' hissed Pat 
 into Billy's ear, at the same time stuffing a bill into 
 his hand. 
 
 Billy had just sense enough left to follow the assisting 
 kick and roll himself out of the road, with a snatch at 
 his machine which pulled it down out of sight. He had a 
 secret feeling that he was " yellow " after all in spite of 
 his efforts, letting a guy get taken this way without even a 
 chance to put up a fight. Where was that gun? He 
 reached his hand into his pocket and was steadied by the 
 feeling of the cold steel Then he knew that the men' were 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 47 
 
 in the car and were about to start. They had dumped the 
 owner into the back seat and were going to carry him off 
 somewhere. What were they going to do? He must 
 find out. He was responsible. He hadn't meant to let 
 anything like this happen. If everything wasn't going to 
 be on the square he might have to get into it yet. He must 
 stick around and see. 
 
 The men were having a whispered consultation over the 
 car. They were not used to that kind, but a car was a car. 
 They tried to start it with nervous glances down the road. 
 It jerked and hissed and complained but began to obey. 
 The wheels were beginning to move. In a flash it would 
 be gone! 
 
 Billy scrambled noiselessly up the bank behind the car, 
 his move well covered by the noise of the engine. With 
 a quick survey of the situation he tucked himself hastily 
 into the spare tire on the back, just as the car gave a lurch 
 and shot forward down across the tracks. He had all he 
 could do to maintain his position and worm himself into a 
 firmer holding for the first minute or two, and when he 
 began to realize what he was doing he found his heart 
 beating like a young trip hammer. He slid a groping hand 
 into his pocket once more for reassurance. If anything 
 really happened he had the gun. 
 
 But his heart was heavy. Things had not gone right 
 He had planned to carry this thing through as a large joke, 
 and here he was mixed up in a crooked deal if ever there 
 was one. The worst of it was he wasn't out of it yet. He 
 wished he knew whose car this was and where they were 
 bound for. How about the license tag? Gripping his 
 unstable seat he swayed forward and tried to see it just 
 below him. In the dim light it looked like a New York 
 license. It must be the guy they were after all right, — ^ 
 they had telephoned about a New York man — yet — Cart 
 tad a New York license on his car! He was living in 
 
48 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 New York now, — and there must be lots of other guys — ! 
 
 A kind of sickening thud seemed to drop through his 
 mind down to the pit of his stomach as he tried to think it 
 out. His eyes peered into the night watching every familiar 
 landmark — ^there was the old pine where they always 
 turned off to go fishing ; and yes, they were turning away 
 from Economy road. Yes, they were going through 
 Hackett's Pass. A chill crept through his thin old sweater 
 as the damp breath of ferns and rocks struck against his 
 face. His eyes shone grim and hard in the night, suddenly 
 grown old and stem. This was the kind of thing you read 
 about in novels. In spite of pricks of conscience his spirits 
 rose. It was great to be in it if it had to be. The conscious- 
 ness of Sabbath Valley bathed in peaceful moonlight, all 
 asleep, of the minister and his daughter, and Aunt Saxon, 
 fell away ; even the memory of bells that called to righteous- 
 ness — he was out in the night on a wild ride and his soul 
 thrilled to the measure of it. He fairly exulted as he re- 
 flected that he might be called upon to do some great deed 
 of valor — in fact he felt he must do a great deed of valor 
 to retrieve his self respect after having made that balk 
 about the detour. How did that guy get around the detour 
 anyway ? Some guy I 
 
 Hackett's Pass was far behind and the moon was 
 going low when the car stopped for a moment and a hurried 
 consultation took place inside. Billy couldn't hear all that 
 was said, but he gathered that time was short and the 
 conspirators must be back at a certain place before morn- 
 ing. They seemed somehow to have missed a trail that 
 was to have cut the distance greatly. Billy clung breath- 
 lessly to his cramped position and waited. He hoped they 
 wouldn't gtt out and try to find the way, for then some of 
 them might see him, and he was so stiff he was sure he 
 would bungle getting out of the way. But after a breath- 
 less moment the car started on more slowly, and finally 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 49 
 
 turned down a steep rough place, scarcely a trail, Into the 
 deeper woods. For a long time they went along, slower 
 and slower, into the blackness of night it seemed. There 
 was no moon, and the men had turned off the lights. There 
 was nothing but a pocket flash which one of them carried, 
 and turned on now and again to show them the way. The 
 engine too was muffled and went snuffing along through 
 the night like a blind thing that had been gagged. Billy 
 began to wonder if he would ever find his legs useful 
 again. Sharp pains shot through his joints, and he became 
 aware of sleep dropping upon his straining eyes like a 
 sickening cloud. Yet he must keep awake. 
 
 He squirmed about and changed his position, staring 
 into the darkness and wondering if this journey was ever 
 to end. Now they were bumping down a bank, and slop- 
 ping through water, not very deep, a small moimtain 
 stream on one of the levels. He tried to think where it must 
 be, but was puzzled. They seemed to have traveled part of 
 the way in curves. Twice they stopped and backed up and 
 seemed to be returning on their tracks. They crossed and 
 recrossed the little stream, and the driver was cursing, and 
 insisting on more light. At last they began climbing again 
 and the boy drew a breath of relief. He could tell better 
 where he was on the heights. He began to think of morn- 
 ing and Sabbath Valley bathed in its Sabbath peace, with 
 the bells chiming a call to worship — and he not there! 
 Aimt Saxon would be crazy! She would bawl him out! 
 He should worry! and she would weep, pink weak tears 
 from her old thin eyes, that seemed to have never done much 
 else but weep. The thought turned and twisted in his soul 
 like an ugly curved knife and made him angry. Tears 
 always made him angry. And Miss Lynn — she would 
 watch for him — ! He had promised to be there ! And she 
 would not understand — and there would come that grieved 
 look in her eyes. She would think — Oh, she would think he 
 
 4 
 
50 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 did not want to come, and did not mean to keep his promise, 
 and things like that — and she would have to think them ! 
 He couldn't help it, could he? He Jmd to come along, 
 didn't he?" 
 
 In the midst of his miserable reflections the car stopped 
 dead on a level place and with a cold perspiration on his 
 forehead Billy peered around him. They must have reached 
 the top of a ridge, for the sky was visible with the morning 
 star pinned against a luminous black. Against it a blacker 
 shape was visible, half hid in trees, a building of some sort, 
 solid, substantial, but deserted. 
 
 The men were getting out of the car. Billy gripped 
 the gun and dropped silently to the ground, sliding as 
 stealthily into the shadows of the trees as if he had been 
 a snake. 
 
 Pat, stepped heavily to the ground and began to give 
 directions in a low growl. Billy crouched and listened. 
 
 " Let's get him shifted quick! We gotta beat it outta 
 here ! Link, it's up to you an' Shorty to get this car over 
 the state line before light, an' you'll have to run me back 
 to the Crossing first, so I can be at the station in time for 
 the early train. That'll be going some! " 
 
 " Well, I guess anyhow not,'' said Link sullenly, 
 " Whadda ya think we are ? Fools ? Run you back to the 
 Crossing in a pig's eye. You'll foot it back if you get 
 there, er come with us. We ain't gonta get caught with this 
 car on our hands. What we gonta do with it anyhow, 
 when we get crost the state line ? " 
 
 " Why, you run it into the field off behind that row of 
 alders. Sam's got a man on the lookout. They'll have 
 that little old car so she won't recognize her best friend 
 before you can count three, so you should worry. And 
 you'll run me back or you won't get the dough. See ? I'll 
 see to that. Pat said I wasn't to run no risks fer not bein' 
 back in time. Now, shift that guy's feet out on my 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 51 
 
 sh£>ulder. Handle him quick. Nope, he won't wake up 
 fer two hours yet. I give him plenty of dope. Got them 
 bracelets tight on his feet? All right now. He's some 
 hefty bird, ain't he? " 
 
 They moved away in the direction of the building, 
 carrying a long dark shape between them, and Billy breath- 
 less in the bushes, watched, turning rapid plans in his 
 mind. Here he was in the midst of an automobile get- 
 away! Many the time he had gone with Mark and the 
 Chief of Police on a still hunt for car thieves, but this time 
 he was of the party. His loyal young heart boiled hot with 
 rage, and he determined to do what he could single-handed 
 to stem the tide of crime. Just what he was going to do 
 he was undetermined. One thing was certain, he must get 
 the number of that license tag. He looked toward 
 the house. 
 
 The group had paused with their burden at the door 
 and Pat had turned on his pocket flash light for just an 
 instant as they fumbled with an ancient lock. In that 
 instant the whole front of the old stone house was lit up 
 clearly, and Billy gasped. Th^ haunted house ! The house 
 on the far mountain where a man had murdered his 
 brother and then hanged himself. It had stood empty and 
 closed for years, ever since Billy could remember, and was 
 shunned and regarded with awe, and pointed out by 
 hunters as a local point of interest. 
 
 Billy regarded with contempt the superstition that 
 hung around the place, but he gasped when he saw where 
 he was, for they must have come twenty miles round about 
 and it was at least ten across the mountains by the short cut. 
 Ten miles from home, and he had to foot it! If he had 
 only brought old trusty ! No telling now whether he would 
 ever see it again. But what were bicycles at such a time 
 as this ! 
 
 The flash had gone out and the house was in darkness 
 
52 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 again, but he could hear the grating of a rusty hinge as the 
 door opened, and faint footfalls of rubbered feet shuffled 
 on a dusty floor. Now was his time ! He darted out to 
 the back of the car, and stooping down with his face dose 
 to the license, holding his old cap in one hand to shelter 
 it drew out his own pocket flash and turned it on the sign, 
 registering the number clearly on his alert young mind. 
 The flash light was on its last breath of battery, and blinked 
 asthmatically, winking out into a thread of red as the boy 
 pressed it eagerly for one more look. He had been so 
 intent that he had not heard the rubbered feet till they were 
 almost upon him, and he had barely time to spring back 
 into the bushes. 
 
 " Hist ! What was that ? " whispered Pat, and the three 
 stopped motionless in their tracks. Billy held his breath 
 and touched the cold steel in his pocket. Of course there 
 was always the gun, but what was one gun against three ? 
 
The whistle of the Cannery at Sabbath Valley blew a 
 relief blast five minutes ahead of midnight in deference to 
 the church chimes, and the night shift which had been 
 working overtime on account of a consignment of tomatoes 
 that would not keep till Monday, poured joyously out into 
 the road and scattered to their various homes. 
 
 The outmost of these homegoers, Tom McMertrie and 
 Jim Rafferty, who lived at the other extreme of the village, 
 came upon a crippled car, coughing and crawling toward 
 them in front of the Graveyard. Its driver, much sobered 
 by lack of stimulant, and frequent necessity for getting out 
 and pushing his car over hard bits of road, called to 
 them noisily. 
 
 The two workmen, pleasant of mood, ready for a joke, 
 not altogether averse to helping if this proved to be " the 
 right guy," halted and stepped into the road just to look 
 the poor noble car over. It was the lure of the 
 fine machine. 
 
 '* Met with an accident? " Jim remarked affably, as if 
 it were something to enjoy. 
 
 " Had toire thrubble ? " added Tom, punching the col- 
 lapsed tires. 
 
 The questions seemed to anger the driver, who de- 
 manded loftily : 
 
 " Where's your garage? " 
 
 "Garage? Oh, we haven't any garage," said Jim 
 pleasantly, with a mute twinkle in his Irish eye. 
 
 " No garage ? Haven't any garage ! What town is this, 
 — if you call it a town? " 
 
 " Why, mon, this is Sawbeth Volley ! Shorely yeVe 
 heard of Sawbeth Volley I '* 
 
54 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 "No, I never heard of it!" said the stranger con- 
 temptuously, " but from what Fve seen of it so far I should 
 say it ought to be called Hell's Pit ! Well, what do you do 
 when you want your car fixed ? " 
 
 " Well, we don't hoppen to hove a cyar," said Tom 
 with a meditative air, stooping to examine the spokes of a 
 v^heel, " Boot, ef we hod mon, I'm thenkin' we'd fix it ! " 
 
 Jim gave a flicker of a chuckle in his throat, but kept 
 his outward gravity. The stranger eyed the two male- 
 volently, helplessly, and began once more, holding his rage 
 with a cold voice. 
 
 " Well, how much do you want to fix my car? " he 
 asked, thrusting his hand into his pocket and bringing out 
 an affluent wallet. 
 
 The men straightened up and eyed him coldly. Jim 
 turned indifferently away and stepped back to the side- 
 walk. Tom lifted his chin and replied kindly: 
 
 " Why, Mon, it's the Sawheth, didn't ye know ? I'm 
 s*proised at ye! It's the Sawbeth, an' this is Sawbeth 
 Volley ! We don't wurruk on the Sawbeth day in Sawbeth 
 Volley. Whist! Hear thot, mon? " 
 
 He lifted his hand and from the stone belfry near-by 
 came the solemn tone of the chime, pealing out a full round 
 of melody, and then tolling solemnly twelve slow strokes. 
 There was something almost uncanny about it that held 
 the stranger still, as if an unseen presence with a convinc- 
 ing voice had been invoked. The young man sat under 
 the spell till the full complement of the ringing was 
 finished, the workman with his hand up holding attention, 
 and Jim Rafferty quietly enjoying it all from the 
 curb stone. 
 
 When the last sweet resonance had died out, the 
 Scotchman's hand went slowly down, and the stranger 
 burst forth with an oath : 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 55 
 
 " Well, can you tell me where I can go to get fixed up? 
 I've wasted enough time already." 
 
 " I should say from whut I've seen of ye, mon, that yer 
 roight in thot statement, and if I was to advoise I'd say 
 go right up to the parson, His loight's still burnin' in the 
 windo next beyant the tchurtch, so ye'll not be disturbin' 
 him. Not that he'd moind. He'll fix ye up ef anybody 
 cun ; though I'm doubtin' yer in a bad wy, only wy ye tak 
 it. Good-night to ye, the winda wi' the leight, mon, roight 
 next beyant the tchurtch! " 
 
 The car began its coughing and spluttering, and slowly 
 jerked itself into motion, its driver going angrily on his 
 unthankful way. The two workmen watching him with 
 amused expressions, waited in the shadow of a tree till 
 the car came to a stop again in front of the parsonage, 
 and a tall young fellow got out and looked toward the 
 lighted window. 
 
 " Oh, boy ! He's going in ! " gasped Jim, slapping his 
 companion silently on the back. " Whatt'll Mr. Severn 
 think. Tommy? " 
 
 " It'll do the fresh laddie gude," quoth Tom, a trifle 
 abashed but ready to stand by his guns, " I'm thenkin' 
 he's one of them what feels they owns the airth, an' is 
 bound to step on all worms of the dust whut comes in thur 
 wy. But Jim, mon, we better be steppin' on, f er tomorra's 
 the Sawbeth ya ken, an' it wuddent be gude for our souls if 
 the parson shud cum out to investigate." Chuckling away 
 into the silent street they disappeared, while Laurence 
 Shafton stalked angrily up the little path and pounded 
 loudly on the quaint knocker of the parsonage. 
 
 The minister was on his knees beside his desk, pray- 
 ing for the soul of the wandering lad who had been dear 
 to him for years. He had finished his preparation for the 
 coming day, and his heart was full of a great longing. As 
 
56 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 he poured out his desire he forgot the hour and his need for 
 rest. It was often in such companionship he forgot all 
 else. He was that kind of a man. 
 
 But he came to his feet on the instant with the knock, 
 and was ready to go out on any errand of mercy that was 
 needing him. It was not an unusual thing for a knock to 
 come interrupting his midnight devotions. Sometimes the 
 call would be to go far out on the mountain to some one 
 who was in distress, or dying. 
 
 The minister swung the door wide and peered into the 
 night pleasantly almost as if to welcome an unexpected 
 guest. In the sudden flood of the porch light his face was 
 illimiined, and behind him the pretty living room gave a 
 sweet homely setting. The stranger stood for an instant 
 blinking, half astonished; then the memory of his ren- 
 dezvous at break of day brought back his irritation at 
 the delay. 
 
 "Are you Parsons?" he demanded, just as if 
 " Parsons " were at fault that he had not been on 
 hand before. 
 
 " Parsons ? '' said Mr. Severn reflectively. " I don't 
 recall anyone of that name hereabouts. Perhaps you are 
 on the wrong road. There is a Parsons at Monopoly." 
 
 " Parsons is the name. Aren't you Parsons? A couple 
 of men down the road said you were, and that you could 
 fix me up. They said right next the church and that your 
 light was still burning." The visitor's tone was belligerent. 
 
 Severn's face cleared with a smile. 
 
 " Oh, they must have said * Parson,' they often call me 
 that. Come in. What can I do for you? " 
 
 The young man eyed him coldly and made no move 
 to enter. 
 
 " Parson or Parsons, it makes no difference does it? 
 Mr. Parson, if you're so particular then, come out and look 
 at my car. It seems to be in bad shape, and be quick about 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 57 
 
 it. IVe got over two hundred miles to make before day- 
 break, so get a hustle on. FU pay you well if you don't 
 waste any time." 
 
 A queer look descended upon the minister in twinkles 
 of amusement around his eyes and lips much like the smile 
 that Tom MacMertrie had worn, only there was not a rag 
 of hurt pride about it : With entire pleasantness he said : 
 
 " Just wait a moment till I get a Hght." 
 
 As he turned to go Shaf ton called after him : 
 
 " Oh, by the way, got anything to drink? Fm thirsty 
 as the devil." 
 
 Severn turned, instant hospitality in his face. 
 
 " What will you have ? Water or milk ? Plenty 
 of both." 
 
 He smiled and Shafton looked at him in haughty 
 amazement. 
 
 " Man! I said I wanted something to drink! " he thun- 
 dered, but don't stand there all night doddering. I've got 
 to get started ! " 
 
 A slight lifting of the chin, a trifle of steel in the kind 
 eyes, a shade of coolness in the voice, as the clear compre- 
 hension of heaven had sifted the visitor, and the minister 
 said, almost sternly: 
 
 " Oh, I see," and disappeared through a swinging door 
 into the pantry. 
 
 It was about this time that L3mn Severn awoke to near 
 consciousness and wondered what kind of a queer noisy 
 guest her father had now. 
 
 The minister was gone sometime and the guest grew 
 impatient, stamping up and down the piazza and kicking 
 a porch rocker out of his path. He looked at his watch 
 and frowned, wondering how near he was to the end of 
 his detour, and then he started in pursuit of his man, 
 tramping through the Severn house as if it were a public 
 ^garage, and almost running into the minister as he swung 
 
58 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 the door open. Severn was approaching with a lighted 
 lantern in one hand and a plate of brown bread and butter, 
 with a cup of steaming coffee in his other hand. 
 
 Laurence Shafton stopped abruptly, a curse on his lips, 
 but something, either the genial face of the minister, or 
 the aroma of the coffee, silenced him. And indeed there 
 was something about Graham Severn that was worth 
 looking at. Tall and well built, with a face at once strong 
 and sweet, and with a certain luminousness about it that 
 almost seemed like transparency to let the spirit shine 
 through, although there was nothing frail about his well 
 cut features. 
 
 Laurence Shafton, looking into the frank kind eyes of 
 the minister suddenly became aware that this man had 
 taken a great deal of trouble for him. He hadn't brought 
 any liquor, probably because he did not know enough of the 
 world to understand what it was he wanted, or because he 
 was playing a joke. As he looked into those eyes and 
 noted with his half befuddled senses the twinkle playing 
 at the corners he was not quite sure but the joke was on 
 himself. But however it was the coffee smelled good and 
 he took it and blundered out a brief " Thanks." 
 
 Eating his brown bread and butter, the like of which 
 had never entered his pampered lips before, and taking 
 great swoops of the hot strong coffee he followed this 
 strange new kind of a man out to the car in the moonlight, 
 paying little heed to the careful examination that ensued, 
 being so accustomed to ordering all his needs supplied and 
 finding them forthcoming without delay. 
 
 Finally the minister straightened up : 
 
 " I'm afraid you won't go many miles to-night. 
 YouVe burned out your bearings ! " 
 
 " Hell ! " remarked the young gentleman pausing be 
 fore the last swallow of coffee. 
 
 " Oh, you won't find it so bad as that, I imagine,' 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 59 
 
 answered the steady voice of the minister. " I can give 
 you a bed and take care of you over to-morrow, and per- 
 haps Sandy McPherson can fix you up Monday, although 
 I doubt it. He'd have to make new bearings, or you'd 
 have to send for some to the factory." 
 
 But Lawrence Shafton did not wait to hear the sug- 
 gestions. He stormed up and down the sidewalk in front 
 of the parsonage and let forth such a stream of choice 
 language as had not been heard in that locality in many a 
 long year. The minister's voice, cool, stern, commanding, 
 broke in upon his ravings. 
 
 " I think that will be about all, sir ! " 
 
 Laurence Shafton stopped and stared at the minister's 
 lifted hand, not because he was overawed, simply because 
 never before in the whole of his twenty-four years had 
 any one dared lift voice to him in a tone of command or 
 reproof. He could not believe his ears, and his anger 
 rose hotly. He opened his mouth to tell this insignificant 
 person who he was and where to get off, and a few other 
 common arguments of gentlemen of his class, but the 
 minister had a surprising height as he stood in the moon- 
 light, and there was that something strange and spiritual 
 about him that seemed to meet the intention and disarm 
 it. His jaw dropped, and he could not utter the words he had 
 been about to speak. This was insufferable — ! But there 
 was that raised hand. It seemed like some one not of this 
 world quite. He wasn't afraid, because it wasn't in him to 
 be afraid. That was his pose, not afraid of those he con- 
 sidered his inferiors, and he did not consider that anyone 
 was his superior. But somehow this was something new 
 in his experience. A man like this! It was almost as i"*^ 
 his mere being there demanded a certain homage. It 
 was queer. The young man passed a hand over his hot 
 forehead and tried to think. Then the minister's voice 
 went calmly on. It was almost as if he had not said that 
 
60 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 other at all. Perhaps he had not. Perhaps he dreamed; 
 it or imagined it. Perhaps he had been taking too muchj 
 liquor and this was one of the symptoms — ! Yet ther^ 
 still ringing in his ears — well his soul anyway, — ^were those 
 quiet words, " That will be about all, sir! " Sternly. As 
 if he had a right to speak that way to him! To Laurence: 
 Shaft on, son of the great Wilson J. Shafton, of New" 
 York ! He looked up at the man again and found a sort oi 
 respect for him dawning in himself. It was queer, but the 
 man was — well, interesting. What was this he was saying i 
 
 " I am sorry" — just as if he had never rebuked him at ^ 
 all, " I am sorry that there seems to be no other way. If I 
 had a car I would take you to the nearest railway station, 
 but there are no trains to-night, not even twenty miles 
 away until six in the morning. There are only four cars 
 owned in the village. Two are gone off on a summer 
 trip, the third is out of commission being repaired, and the 
 fourth belongs to the doctor, who happens to be away on 
 the mountain to-night attending a dying man. You see 
 how it is.'* 
 
 The young man opened his mouth to curse once more, 
 and strangely enough closed it again: Somehow cursing 
 seemed to have lost its force. 
 
 " There is just one chance," went on the minister 
 thoughtfully, "that a young man who was visiting his 
 mother to-day may still be here. I can call up and find out. 
 He would take you I know.'* 
 
 Almost humbly the great man's son followed the min- 
 ister back to the house and listened anxiously while he 
 called a number on the telephone. 
 
 "Is that you Mrs. Carter? I'm sorry if I have dis- 
 turbed you. What ? You hadn't gone to bed yet ? Oh. _ 
 waiting for Mark? Then he isn't there? That's what IS 
 called up for. There is some one here in trouble, needing™ 
 to be taken to Monopoly. I was sure Mark would help 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 61 
 
 him out if possible. Yes, please, if he comes soon, ask him 
 to call me. Just leave a note for him, can't you? 
 I wouldn't sit up. Mark will take good care of himself. 
 Yes, of course, that's the mother of it. Well, good-night, 
 Mrs. Carter." 
 
 The young man strode angrily out to the door, mutter- 
 ing — ^but no words were distinct. He wanted to be away 
 from the compelling calmness of those eyes that seemed to 
 search him through. He dashed out the screen door, let- 
 ting it slam behind him, and down the steps, intending to 
 make his car go on at all odds until he reached another 
 town somewhere. It had gone so far, it could go on a little 
 farther perhaps. This country parson did not know about 
 cars, how should he? 
 
 And then somewhere right on the top step he made a 
 false step and slipped, or was it his blindness of rage ? He 
 caught at the vines with frantic hands, but as if they 
 laughed at him they slipped from his grasp. His feet clat- 
 tered against the step trying for footing, but he was too 
 near the edge, and he went down straight into a little rocky 
 nook where ferns and violets were growing, and a sharp 
 jagged rock stuck up and bit him viciously as he slid and 
 struggled for a firm footing again. Then an ugly twist 
 of his ankle, and he lay in a humiliating heap in the shadow 
 of the vines on the lawn, crying out and beginning to 
 curse with the pain that gripped him in sharp teeth, and 
 stung through his whole excitable inflammed being. 
 
 The minister was there almost at once, bending over 
 him. Somehow he felt as if he were in the power of some- 
 body greater than he had ever met before. It was almost 
 like meeting God out on the road somewhere. The min- 
 ister stooped and picked him up, lightly, as if he had been 
 a feather, and carried him like a baby, thrown partly over 
 his shoulder; up the steps, and into that blasted house 
 again. Into the bright light that sickened him and made 
 
62 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 the pain leap up and bring a mighty faintness. 
 
 He laid him almost tenderly upon a soft couch, and 
 straightened the pillows about him, seeming to know just 
 how every bone felt, and how every nerve quivered, and 
 then he asked a few questions in a quiet voice. What hap- 
 pened? Was it your ankle ? Here? Or here f All right. 
 Just be patient a minute, I'll have you all fixed up. This 
 was my job over in France you know. No, don't move. It 
 won't hurt long. It was right here you said. Now, wait 
 till I get my bottle of lotion.'* 
 
 He was back in an instant with bandages, and bottle, 
 and seemed to know just how to get off a shoe with the 
 least trouble. 
 
 An hour later the scion of a great New York family 
 lay sleeping in the minister's study, the old couch made up 
 with cool sheets, and the swollen ankle comfortably 
 bandaged with cool wet cloths. Outside in the moonlight 
 the crippled car stood alone, and Sabbath Valley slept, 
 while the bells chimed out a. single solemn stroke. ^ 
 
,_.ca 
 Iftn 
 
 f 
 
 VI 
 
 Billy was doing some rapid thinking while he stood 
 motionless in the bushes. It seemed a half hour, but in 
 reality it was but a few seconds before he heard a low 
 whistle. The men piled rapidly into the car with furtive 
 looks on either side into the dark. 
 
 Billy gave a wavering glance toward the looming 
 house in the darkness where the motionless figure had 
 been left. Was it a dead man lying there alone, or was he 
 only doped. But what could he do in the dark without 
 tools or flash ? He decided to stick with the machine, for 
 he had no desire to foot it home, and anyway, with his 
 bicycle he would be far more independent. Besides, there 
 was the perfectly good automobile to think about. If 
 the man was dead he couldn't be any deader. If he was 
 only doped it would be some time before he came to, and 
 before these keepers could get back he would have time to 
 do something. Billy never doubted his responsibility in 
 the matter. It was only a question of expediency. If he 
 could just " get these guys with the goods on them," he 
 would be perfectly satisfied. 
 
 He made a dash for his seat at the back while the car 
 was turning, and they were off at a brisk pace down the 
 mountain, not waiting this time to double on their tracks, 
 but splashing through the Creek only once and on up to 
 the road again. 
 
 Like an uneasy fever in his veins meantime, went and 
 came a vision of that limp inert figure of the man being 
 carried into the haunted house as it stood out 
 
 the flare of the flash light, one arm hanging 
 heavily. What did that hand and arm remind him of? 
 h — ^h! The time when Mark was knocked cold at the 
 
64 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Thanksgiving Day Football game last year. Mark's 
 hand and arm had looked like that — he had held his 
 fingers like that — ^when they picked him up. Mark had 
 the base-ball hand! Of course that rich guy might havei 
 been an athlete too, they were sometimes. And of course 
 Mark was right now at home and in bed, where Billy 
 wished he was also, but somehow the memory of that still 
 dark " knocked cold " attitude, and that hanging hand 
 and arm would not leave him. He frowned in the dark and 
 wished this business was over. Mark was the only living 
 soul Billy felt he could ever tell about this night's esca- 
 pade, and he wasn't sure he could tell him, but he knew if 
 he did that Mark would understand. 
 
 Billy watched anxiously for a streak of light in the 
 East, but none had come as yet. The moon had left the 
 earth darker than darkness when it went. 
 
 He tried to think what he should do. His bicycle wasi 
 lying in the bushes and he ought to get it before daylight. 
 If they went near the station he would drop off and pick 
 it up. Then he would scuttle through the woods and get to 
 the Crossroads, and beat it down to the Blue Duck Tavern. 
 That was the only place open all night where he could tele- 
 phone. He didn't like to go to the Blue Duck Tavern on 
 account of his aunt. She had once made him promise 
 most solemnly, bringing in something about his dead 
 mother, that he would never go to the Blue Duck Tavern. 
 But this was a case of necessity, and dead mothers, if they 
 cared at all, ought to understand. He had a deep under- 
 lying faith in the principle of what a mother — at any rate a 
 dead mother — ^would be like. And anyhow, this wasn't 
 the kind of " going " to the Tavern his aunt had meant. 
 He was keeping the spirit of the promise if not the letter.] 
 In his code the spirit meant much more than the letter — at| 
 least on this occasion. There were often times when he 
 rigidly adhered to the letter and let the spirit take care oi 
 itself, but this was not one. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE M 
 
 But if, on the other hand they did not take Pat all the 
 way back to the crossing by the station it would be even 
 better for him, for the road on which they now were passed 
 within a quarter of a mile of the Blue Duck Tavern, and 
 he could easily beat the car to the state line, by dropping off 
 and running. 
 
 But suddenly and without warning it became apparent 
 that Pat was to be let out to walk to the station crossing, 
 and Billy had only a second to decide what to do, while Pat 
 lumbered swearing down from the car. If he got off now; 
 he would have to wait till Pat was far ahead before he 
 dared go after his wheel, and he would lose so much time 
 there would be no use in trying to save the car. On 
 the other hand if he stayed on the car he was liable to be 
 seen by Pat, and perhaps caught. However, this seemed 
 the only possible way to keep the car from destruction and 
 loss, so he wriggled himself into his seat more firmly, 
 tucked his legs painfully up under him, covered his face 
 with his cap, and hid his hands in his pockets. 
 
 " YouVe plenty of time," raged Pat, "YouVe only a 
 little five miles run left. It's a good half hour before light. 
 You're a pair of cowards, that's whut ye are, and so I'll 
 tell Sam. If I get fired fer not being there fer the early 
 milk train, there'll be no more fat jobs fer youse. Now 
 be sure ye do as you're told. Leave the car in the first field 
 beyond the woods after ye cross the state line, lift yer flash 
 light and wink three times, count three slow, and wink 
 three times more. Then beat it! And doncha ferget to go 
 feed that guy ! We don't want he should die on us." 
 
 The engine began to mutter. Pat with a farewell 
 string of oaths rolled off down the road, too sleepy to 
 look behind, and Billy held his breath and ducked low till 
 the rolling Pat was one with the deep gray of the morning. 
 
 The first streak of light was beginning to show in the 
 St, and the all-night revellers at the Blue Duck were in the 
 
 r 
 
66 THE CITY OF FERE 
 
 last stages of going home after a more than usually exciting 
 season, when Billy like the hardened promise-breaker he 
 felt himself to be, boldly slid in at the door and disappeared 
 inside the telephone booth behind the last row of tables in 
 the corner. For leave it to a boy, even though he be not a 
 frequenter of a place, to know where everything needful is 
 to be found ! 
 
 He had to wait several minutes to get the Chief of 
 Police in Economy, and while he waited two gaunt 
 habitues of the Tavern slid into seats at the table to the 
 left of the booth, ordered drinks and began to discuss 
 something in a low tone. Billy paid no heed till he hap- 
 pened to hear his friend's name : 
 
 " Yep, I seen Mark come in with Cherry early in the 
 evening. He set right over there and gotter some drink. 
 The girl was mad because he wouldn't get her what she 
 wanted to drink. I happened to be settin' direckly in front 
 and I heard her gassin' about it. She tossed her head and 
 made her eyes look little and ugly like a pig, and once she 
 got up to go, and he grabbed her hands and made her set 
 down; and just set there fer sometime alookin' at her hard 
 an' holdin' her ban's and chewin' the rag at her. I don't 
 know what all they was sayin,' fer he talked mighty low, 
 an' Ike called me to take a hand in the game over tother side 
 the room, so I didn't know no more till I see him an' Cherry 
 beat in' it out the side door, an' Dolphin standin' over acrost 
 by the desk lampin' 'em with his ugly look, an' pretty quick, 
 Dolph he slid out the other door an' was gone quite some 
 time. When he come back Cherry was with him, laughin' 
 and makin' eyes, and vampin' away like she always does, 
 an' him an' her danced a lot after that — " 
 
 A voice on the end of the wire broke in upon this amaz- 
 ing conversation, and Billy with difficulty adjusted his 
 jaded mind, to the matter in hand_r 
 
THE CITt. OF FIRE , 67 
 
 " 'Z'is the Chief? Say, Chief, a coupla guys stole a 
 machine — Holes-Mowbrays — license number 6362656-W 
 • — Got that ? New York tag. They're on their way over to 
 the State Line beyond the Cross Roads. They're gonta 
 run her in the field just beyond the woods, you know. 
 They're gonta give a flash light signal to their pal, three 
 winks, count three slow, and three winks more, and then 
 beat it. Then some guy is gonta wreck the machine. It's up 
 to you and your men to hold the machine till I get the 
 owner there. He don't know it's pinched yet, but I know 
 where to find him, an' he'll have the license and can 
 identify it. Where'U I find you? Station House? 
 'Conomy? Sure! I'll be there soon's I get 'im. What's 
 that? I? Oh, I'm just a kid that happened to get wise. 
 My name? Oh rats! That don't cut any ice now! You 
 get on yer job ! They must be almost there by now. I 
 gotta beat it ! Gub-bye ! " 
 
 Billy was all there even if he had been up all night. He 
 hung up with a click, for he was anxious to hear what the 
 men were saying. They had finished their glasses and 
 were preparing to leave. The old one was gabbling on in 
 a querrilous gossipy tone : 
 
 " Well, it'll go hard with Mark Carter if the man dies. 
 Everybody knows he was here, and unless he can prove 
 an alibi—!" 
 
 They were crawling reluctantly out of their haunts 
 now, and Billy could catch but one more sentence : 
 
 " Well, I'm sorry fer his ma. I used to go to school 
 with Mrs. Carter when we were kids." 
 
 They were gone out and the room suddenly showed 
 empty. The waiter was fastening the shutters. In a 
 moment more he would be locked in. Billy made a silent 
 dash among the tables and slid out the door while the 
 waiter's back was turned. The two men were ambling 
 slowly down the road toward Economy. Billy started on 
 
68 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 a dead run. His rubber soled shoes made no echo and he 
 was too light on his feet to make a thud. He disappeared 
 into the grayness like a spirit. He had more cause than 
 ever now for hurry. Mark! Mark! His beloved Mark 
 Carter! What must he do about it? Must he tell Mark? 
 Or did Mark perhaps know? What had happened any- 
 way? There had evidently been a shooting. That Cherry 
 Fenner was mixed up in it. Billy knew her only by sight. 
 She always grinned at him and said: *'Hello, Billee!'' in 
 her pretty dimpled way. He didn't care for her himself. 
 He had accepted her as a part of life, a necessary evil. She 
 wore her hair queer, and had very short tight skirts, and 
 high heels. She painted her face and vamped, but that 
 was her affair. He had heretofore tolerated her because 
 she seemed in some way to be under Mark Carter's recent 
 protection. Therefore he had growled "Ello!" grimly 
 whenever she accosted him and let it go at that. If it had 
 come to a show down he would have stood up for her 
 because he knew that Mark would, that was all. Mark 
 knew his own business. Far be it from Billy to criticize 
 his hero's reasons. Perhaps it was one of Mark's weak- 
 nesses. It was up to him. That was the code of a " white 
 man " as Billy had learned it from " the fellas." 
 
 But this was a different matter. This involved Mark's 
 honor. It was up to him to find Mark ! 
 
 Billy did not take the High road down from his detour. 
 He cut across below the Crossroads, over rough ground, 
 among the underbrush, and parting the low growing trees 
 was lost in the gloom of the woods. But he knew every 
 inch of ground within twenty miles around, and darkness 
 did not take away his sense of direction. He crashed 
 along among the branches, making steady headway 
 toward the spot where he had left his bicycle, puffing and 
 panting, his face streaked with dirt, his eyes bleared and 
 haggard, his whole lithe young body straining forward 
 
w^^ 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 69 
 
 and fighting against the dire weariness that was upon him, 
 for it was not often that he stayed up all night. Aunt Saxon 
 aw to that much at least. 
 
 The sky was growing rosy now, and he could hear the 
 mbling of the milk train. It was late. Pat would not 
 ose his job this time, for he must have had plenty of time 
 o get back to the station. Billy wormed himself under 
 cover as the train approached, and bided his time. 
 Cautiously, peering from behind the huckleberry growth, 
 he watched Pat slamming the milk cans around. He could 
 see his bicycle lying like a dark skeleton of a thing against 
 the gravel bank. It was lucky he got there before day, 
 for Pat would have been sure to see it, and it might have 
 given him an idea that Billy had gone with the automobile. 
 
 The milk train came suddenly in sight through 
 the tunnel, like a lighted thread going through a needle. 
 It rumbled up to the station. There was a rattling of milk 
 cans, empty ones being put on, full cans being put off, 
 grumbling of Pat at the train hands, loud retorts of the 
 train hands, the engine puffed and wheezed like a fat old 
 lady going upstairs and stopping on every landing to rest. 
 Then slamming of car doors, a whistle, the snort of the 
 engine as it took up its way again out toward the rosy sky, 
 its headlight weird like a sick candle against the dawn, 
 its tail light winking with a leer and mocking at the 
 mountains as it clattered away like a row of gray ducks 
 lifting webbed feet and flinging back space to the station. 
 
 Pat rolled the loaded truck to the other platform ready 
 for the Lake train at seven, and went in to a much needed 
 rest. He slammed the door with a finality that gave 
 Billy relief. The boy waited a moment more in the 
 thering dawn, and then made a dash for the open, sal- 
 vaging his bicycle, and diving back into the undergrowth. 
 
 For a quarter of a mile he and the wheel like two 
 comrades raced under branches, and threaded their way 
 
 I 
 
70 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 between trees. Then he came out into the Highroad and 
 mounting his wheel rode into the world just as the sun 
 shot up and touched the day with wonder. 
 
 He rode into the silent sleeping village of Sabbath 
 Valley just as the bells from the church chimed out 
 gently, as bells should do on a Sabbath morning when 
 people are at rest, "One! Two! Three! Four! Five!" 
 
 Sabbath Valley looked great as he pedalled silently 
 down the street. Even the old squeak of the back wheel 
 seemed to be holding its breath for the occasion. 
 
 He coasted past the church and down the gentle in- 
 cline in front of the parsonage and Joneses, and the 
 Littles and Browns and Gibsons. Like a shadow of the 
 night passing he slid past the Fowlers and Tiptons and 
 Duncannons, and fastened his eyes on the little white 
 fence with the white pillared gate where Mrs. Carter lived. 
 Was that a light in the kitchen window? And the barn 
 that Mark used for his garage when he was at home, was 
 the door open? He couldn't quite see for the cyringa 
 bush hid it from the road. With a furtive glance up and 
 down the street he wheeled in at the driveway, and rode 
 up under the shadow of the green shuttered white house. 
 
 He dismounted silently, stealthily, rested his wheel 
 against the trunk of a cherry tree, and with keen eyes for 
 every window, glanced up to the open one above which 
 he knew belonged to Mark's room. Strong grimy fingers 
 went to his lips and a low cautious whistle, more like a bird 
 call issued forth, musical as any wild note. 
 
 The white muslin curtains wavered back and forth in 
 the summer breeze, and for a moment he thought a head 
 was about to appear for a soft stirring noise had seemed 
 to move within the house somewhere, but the curtains 
 swayed on and no Mark appeared. Then he suddenly was 
 aware of a white face confronting him at the downstairs 
 window directly opposite to him, white and scared and — 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 71 
 
 was it accusing? And suddenly he began to tremble. Not 
 all the events of the night had made him tremble, but now 
 he trembled, it was Mark's mother, and she had pink rims 
 to her eyes, and little damp crimples around her mouth 
 and eyes for all the world like Aunt Saxon's. She looked 
 — she looked exactly as though she had not slept all night. 
 Her nose was thin and red, and her eyes had that awful 
 blue that eyes get that have been much washed with 
 tears. The soft waves of her hair drooped thinly, and 
 the coil behind showed more threads of silver than of 
 brown in the morning sun that shot through the 
 branches of the cherry tree. She had a frightened look, 
 as if Billy had brought some awful news, or as if it was 
 his fault, he could not tell which, and he began to feel 
 that choking sensation and that goneness in the pit of his 
 stomach that Aunt Saxon always gave him when she 
 looked frightened at something he had done or was going 
 to do. Added to this was that sudden premonition, and a 
 memory of that drooping still figure in the dark up on 
 the mountain. 
 
 Mrs. Carter sat down the candle on a shelf and raised 
 the window : 
 
 **Is that you Billy?" she asked, and there were tears 
 in her voice. 
 
 Billy had a brief appalling revelation of Mothers the 
 world over. Did all Mothers — women — act like that 
 when they were fools? Fools is what he called them in 
 his mind. Yet in spite of himself and his rage and 
 trembling he felt a sudden tenderness for this crumply, 
 tired, ghastly little pink rimmed mother, apprehensive of 
 the worst as was plain to see. Billy recalled like a flash 
 the old man at the Blue Duck saying, " I'm sorry for his 
 ma. I used to go to school with her." He looked at the 
 faded face with the pink rims and trembling lips and had 
 a vision of a brown haired little girl at a desk, and old Si 
 
n THE CITY OF FffiE 
 
 Appleby a teasing boy in the desk opposite. It came over 
 him that some day he would be an old man somewhere 
 telling how he went to school — ! And then he asked : 
 
 "Where's Mark? Up yet?'* 
 
 She shook her head apprehensively, withholdingly. 
 
 Billy had a thought that perhaps some one had beat 
 him to it with news from the Blue Duck, but he put it from 
 him. There were tears in her eyes and one was straggling 
 down between the crimples of her cheeks where it looked as 
 if she had lain on the folds of her handkerchief all night. 
 There came a new tenderness in his voice. This was 
 Mark's mother, and this was the way she felt. Well, of 
 course it was silly, but she was Mark's mother. 
 
 "Man up the mountain had n'accident. I thought 
 Mark ud he'p. He always does," explained Billy awk- 
 wardly with a feeling that he ought to accoimt for his 
 early visit. 
 
 " Yes, of course, Mark would like to help ! " purred his 
 mother comforted at the very thought of every day life and 
 Mark going about as usual, "But — "and the apprehension 
 flew into , her eyes again, " He isn't home. Billy, he 
 hasn't come home at all last night! I'm frightened to 
 death! I've sat up all night! I can't think what's hap- 
 pened — ! There's so many hold-ups and Mark will carry 
 his money loose in his trousers pocket — !" 
 
 Billy blanched but lied beautifully up to the occasion 
 even as he would have liked to have somebody he for him 
 to Aunt Saxon: 
 
 "Aw ! That's nothing ! Doncha worry. He tol' me he 
 might have t'stay down t'Unity all night. There's a fella 
 down there that likes him a lot, an' they had somekinduva 
 blowout in their church last night. He mightuv had ta 
 take some girl home out of town ya know, and stayed 
 over with the fella." 
 
 Mrs. Carter's face relaxed a shade: 
 
 "Yes, I've tried to think that—!" 
 
i 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 73 
 
 "Well, doncha worry, Mizz Carter, Til lookim up fer 
 , I know 'bout where he might be." 
 
 "Oh, thank you Billy," her face wreathed in waver- 
 g smiles brought another thought of school days and 
 ife and how queer it was that grown folks had been 
 hildren sometime and children had to be grown folks. 
 
 "Billy, Mark likes you very much. I'm sure he won't 
 mind your knowing that I'm worried, but you know how 
 boys don't like to have their mothers worry, so you 
 needn't say anything to Mark that I said I was worried, 
 need you? You understand Billy. I'm not really wor- 
 ried you know. Mark was always a good boy." 
 
 "Aw sure!" said Billy with a knowing wink. "He's 
 a prince! You leave it t'me, Mizz Carter!" 
 
 "Thank you, Billy. I'll do something for you some- 
 time. But how's it come you're up so early ? You haven't 
 had your breakfast yet have you?" 
 
 She eyed his weary young face with a mother- 
 ly anxiety: 
 
 "Naw, I didn't have no time to stop fer breakfast. 
 Billy spoke importantly, "Got this call about the sick guy 
 and had to beat it. Say, you don't happen to know 
 Mark's license number do you ? It might help a lot, savin* 
 time 'f'l could tell his car at sight. Save stoppin' to ast." 
 
 "Well, now, I don't really — "said the woman rumi- 
 natively, "let me see. There was six and six, there were 
 a lot of sixes if I remember — " 
 
 "Oh, well, it don't matter — '* Billy grasped his wheel 
 and prepared to leave. 
 
 "Wait, Billy, you must have something to eat — " 
 
 "Aw, naw, I can't wait! Gotta beat it! Might 
 miss 'im!" 
 
 "Well, just a bite. Here, Til get you some cookies !" 
 
 She vanished, and he realized for the first time that 
 he was hungry. Cookies sounded good. . 
 
 She returned with a brimming glass of milk and a 
 
74 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 plate of cookies. She stuffed the cookies in his pockets, 
 while he drank the milk. 
 
 "Say, — " said he after a long sweet draught of the 
 foaming milk, "Ya, aint got enny more you cud spare 
 fer that sick guy, have ya? Wait, I'll save this. Got 
 a bottle ?'* 
 
 'Indeed you won't, Billy Gaston. You just drink that 
 every drop. I'll get you another bottle to take with you. 
 I got extra last night 'count of Mark being home, and 
 then he didn't drink it. He always likes a drink of milk 
 last thing before he goes to bed." 
 
 She vanished and returned with a quart of milk cold 
 off the ice. She wrapped it well with newspapers, and 
 Billy packed it safely into the little basket on his wheel. 
 Then he bethought him of another need. 
 
 " Say, m'y I go inta the g'rage an' get a screw driver? 
 Screw loose on m'wheel." 
 
 She nodded and he vanished into the open barn door. 
 Well he knew where Mark kept his tools. He picked 
 out a small pointed saw, a neat little auger and a file 
 and stowed them hurriedly under the milk bottle. Thus 
 reinforced without and within, he mounted his faithful 
 steed and sped away to the hills. 
 
 The morning sun had. shot up several degrees during 
 his delay, and Sabbath Valley lay like a thing new born 
 in its glory. On the belfry a purple dove sat glistening, 
 green and gold ripples on her neck, turning her head 
 proudly from side to side as Billy rode by, and when he 
 topped the first hill across the valley the bells rang out six 
 sweet strokes as if to remind him that Sunday School was 
 not far off and he must hurry back. But Billy was try- 
 ing to think how he should get into that locked house, and 
 wondering whether the kidnappers would have returned to 
 feed their captive yet. He realized that he must be wary, 
 although his instinct told him that they would wait for 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 75 
 
 dark, besides, he had hopes that they might have 
 been "pinched. " 
 
 Nevertheless he approached the old house cautiously, 
 skirting the mountain to avoid Pleasant Valley, and walk- 
 ing a mile or two through thick undergrowth, sometimes 
 with difficulty propelling the faithful machine. 
 
 Arrived in sight he studied the surroundings care- 
 fully, harbored his wheel where it would not be 
 discovered and was yet easily available, and after recon- 
 noitreing stole out of covert. 
 
 The house stood gaunt and grim against the smiling 
 morning. Its shuttered windows giving an expression of 
 blindness or the repellant mask of death. A dead house, 
 that was what it was. Its doors and windows closed on the 
 tragedy that had been enacted within its massive stone 
 walls. It seemed more like a fortress than a house where 
 warm human faces had once looked forth, and where 
 laughter and pleasant words had once sounded out. To 
 pass it had always stirred a sense of mystery and weird- 
 ness. To approach it thus with the intention of entering 
 to find that still limp figure of a man gave a most 
 overpowering sense of awe. Billy looked up with wide 
 eyes, the deep shadows under them standing out in the 
 clear light of the morning and giving him a strangely old 
 aspect as if he had jumped over at least ten years during 
 the night. Warily he circled the house, keeping close 
 to the shrubbery at first and listening as a squirrel might 
 have done, then gradually drawing nearer. He noticed 
 that the down stairs shutters were solid iron with a Httle 
 half moon peep hole at the top. Those upstairs were 
 solid below and fitted with slats above, but the slats were 
 closed of all the front windows, and all but two of the back 
 ones, which were turned upward so that one could not 
 see the glass. The doors, both back and front, were 
 locked, and unshakable, of solid oak and very thick. A 
 
76 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Yale lock with a new look gave all entrance at the 
 front an impossible look. The back door was equally im- 
 pregnable unless he set to work with his auger and saw 
 and took out a heavy oak panel. 
 
 He got down to the ground and began to examine the 
 cellar windows. They seemed to be fitted with iron bars 
 set into the solid masonry. He went all around the house 
 and found each one unshakable, until he reached the last 
 at the back. There he found a bit of stone cracked and 
 loosened and it gave him an idea. He set to work with 
 his few tools, and finally succeeded in loosening one 
 rusted bar. He was much hindered in his work by the 
 necessity of keeping a constant watch out, and by his at- 
 tempts to be quiet. There was no telling when Link and 
 Shorty might come to feed their captive and he must not 
 be discovered. 
 
 It was slow work picking away at the stone, fiKng 
 away at the rusty iron, but the bars were so close together 
 that three must be removed before he could hope to crawl 
 through, and even then he might be able to get no further 
 than the cellar. The guy that fixed this house up for a 
 prison knew what he was about. 
 
 Faintly across the mountains came the echo of bells, 
 or were they in the boy's own soul? He worked away in 
 the hot sun, the perspiration rolling down his weary dirty 
 face, and sometimes his soul fainted within him. Bells, 
 and the sweet quiet church with the pleasant daily faces 
 about and the hum of Sunday School beginning! How 
 far away that all seemed to him now as he filed and 
 picked, and sweated, and kept up a strange something in 
 his soul half yearning, half fierce dread, that might have 
 been like praying only the burden of its yearning seemed 
 to be expressed in but a single word, "Mark ! Mark !'' 
 
 At last the third bar came loose and with a great sigh 
 that was almost like a sob, the boy tore it out, and cleared 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 77 
 
 the way. Then carefully gathering his effects, tools, 
 milk bottle and cap together, he let them down into the 
 dungeon-like blackness of the cellar, and crept in after 
 them, taking the precaution to set up in place the iron 
 bars once more and leave no trace of his entrance. 
 
 Pausing cautiously to listen he ventured to strike a 
 match, mentally belaboring himself at the wasteful way 
 in which he had always used his flash light which was 
 now so much needed and out of commission. The cellar 
 was large, running under the whole house, with heavy 
 rafters and looming coal pits. A scurrying rat started 
 a few lumps of coal in the slide, and a cobwebby rope 
 hung ominously from one cross beam, giving him a pass- 
 ing shudder. It seemed as if the spirit of the past had 
 arisen to challenge his entrance thus. He took a few steps 
 forward toward a dim staircase he sighted at the farther 
 end, and then a sudden noise sent his heart beating fast. 
 He extinguished the match and stood in the darkness lis- 
 tening with straining ears. That was surely a step he 
 heard on the floor above! 
 
 I 
 
yii 
 
 Laurence Shafton awoke late to the sound of church 
 bells come alive and singing hymn tunes. There was 
 something strangely unreal in the sound, in the utter still- 
 ness of the background of Sabbath Valley atmosphere 
 that made him think, almost, just for an instant, that he 
 had stumbled somehow into the wrong end of the other 
 world, and come into the fields of the blessed. Not that 
 he had any very definite idea about what the fields of the 
 blessed would look like or what would be going on there, 
 but there was something still and holy between the voices 
 of the bells that fairly compelled his jaded young soul to 
 sit up and listen. 
 
 "But at the first attempt to sit up a very sharp very 
 decided twinge of pain caught him, and brought an as- 
 sorted Hst of words which he kept for such occassions to 
 his lips. Then he looked around and tried to take in the 
 situation. It was almost as if he had been caught out of 
 his own world and dropped into another universe, so dif- 
 ferent was everything here, and so little did he remember 
 the happenings of the night before. He had had trouble 
 with his car, something infernal that had prevented his 
 going farther — ^he recalled having to get out and push 
 the thing along the road, and then two loutish men who 
 made game of him and sent him here to get his car fixed. 
 There had been a man, a queer man who gave him bread 
 and butter instead of wine — he remembered that — and he 
 had failed to get his car fixed, but how the deuce did he 
 get landed on this couch with a world of books about him 
 and a thin muslin curtain blowing into the room, and fan- 
 ning the cheeks of a lovely rose in a long stemmed clear 
 glass vase? Did he try to start and have a smash up? 
 
 78 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 79 
 
 No, he remembered going down the steps with the inten- 
 tion of starting, but stay ! Now it was coming to him. He 
 fell off the porch ! He must have had a jag on or he never 
 would have fallen. He did things to his ankle in falling. 
 He remembered the gentle giant picking him up as if he 
 had been a baby and putting him here, but where was here? 
 Ah! Now he remembered! He was on his way to Opal 
 Verrons. A bet. An elopement for the prize ! Great stakes. 
 He had lost of course. What a fool! If it hadn't been for 
 his ankle he might have got to a trolley car or train some- 
 how and made a garage. Money would have taken him 
 there in time. He was vexed that he had lost. It would have 
 been great fun, and he had the name of always winning 
 when he set out to do so. But then, perhaps it was just 
 as well — Verrons was a good fellow as men went — he 
 liked him, and he was plain out and out fond of Opal just 
 at present. It would have been a dirty shame to play the 
 trick behind his back. Still, if Opal wanted to run 
 away with him it was up to him to run of course. 
 Opal was rare sport and he couldn't stand the idea of 
 Smart-Aleck McMarter, or that conceited Percy Emerson 
 getting there first. He wondered which had won. It 
 made his fury rise to think of either, and he had promised 
 the lady neither of them should. What was she think- 
 ing of him by now that he had sent her no word of 
 his delay? That was inexcusable. He must attend to 
 it at once. 
 
 He glanced around the pleasant room. Yes, there on 
 the desk was a telephone ! Could he gtt to it ? He sat up 
 and painfully edged his way over to the desk. 
 
 " Safely through another week, 
 
 God has brought us on our way — " 
 
 chimed the bells, 
 
 " Let us now a blessing seek, 
 
 Waiting in His courts to-day — " 
 
80 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 But Laurie Shaft on had never sung those words in his 
 life and had no idea what the bells were seeking to get 
 across to him. He took down the receiver and called for 
 Long Distance. 
 
 "Oh day of rest and gladness!" 
 
 pealed out the bells joyously, 
 
 "Oh day of joy and light! 
 Oh balm for care and sadness, 
 Most beautiful, most bright — " 
 
 But it meant nothing to Laurie Shafton seeking a 
 hotel in a fashionable resort. And when he finally got 
 his number it was only OpaFs maid who answered. 
 
 "Yes, Mrs. Verrons was up. She was out walking on 
 the beach with a gentleman. No, it was not Mr. Emerson, 
 nor yet Mr. McMarter. Neither of those gentlemen had 
 arrived. No, it was not Mr. Verrons. He had just tele- 
 graphed that he would not be at the hotel until tomorrow 
 night. Yes, she would tell Mrs. Verrons that he had met 
 with an accident. Mrs. Verrons would be very sorry. 
 Number one-W Sabbath Valley. Yes, she would write 
 it down. What ? Oh ! The gentleman Mrs. Verrons was 
 walking with? No, it was not anybody that had been 
 stopping at the hotel for long, it was a new gentleman 
 who had just come the night before. She hadn't heard 
 his name yet. Yes, she would be sure to tell Mrs. Ver- 
 rons at once when she came in, and Mrs. Verrons would 
 be likely to call him up !" 
 
 He hung up the receiver and looked around the room 
 discontentedly. A stinging twinge of his ankle added to 
 his discomfort. He gave an angry snarl and pushed the 
 wavering curtain aside, wishing those everlasting bells 
 would stop their banging. 
 
 Across the velvet stretch of lawn the stone churcK 
 nestled among the trees, with a background of moun- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 81 
 
 tains, and a studding of white gravestones beyond 
 its wide front steps. It was astonishingly beautiful, and 
 startlingly close for a church. He had not been so near 
 to a church except for a wedding in all his young life. 
 Dandy place for a wedding that would be, canopy over 
 the broad walk from the street, charming architect- 
 ure, he liked the line of the arched belfry and the slender 
 spire above. The rough stone fitted well into the scenery. 
 The church seemed to be a thing of the ages placed there 
 by Nature. His mind trained to detect a sense of beauty 
 in garments, rugs, pictures, and women, appreciated the 
 picture on which he was gazing. Where was this any- 
 way ? Surely not the place with the absurd name that he 
 remembered now on the mountain Detour. Sabbath 
 Valley! How ridiculous! It must be the home of some 
 wealthy estate, and yet there seemed a rustic loveliness 
 about it that scarcely established that theory. 
 
 The bells had ceased. He heard the roll of a deep 
 throated organ skillfully played. 
 
 And now, his attention was suddenly attracted to the 
 open window of the church where framed in English ivy 
 a lovely girl sat at the organ. She was dressed in white 
 with hair of gold, and a golden window somewhere back 
 of her across the church, made a background of beaten 
 gold against which her delicate profile was set like some 
 young saint. Her white fingers moving among the keys, 
 and gradually he came to realize that it was she who had 
 been playing the bells. 
 
 He stared and stared, filled with admiration, thrilled 
 with this new experience in his blase existence. Who 
 would have expected to find a beauty like that in a little 
 out of the way place like this? His theory of a great 
 estate and a rich man's daughter with a fad for music in- 
 stantly came to the front. What a lucky happening that 
 he shoufd have broken down close to this church. He 
 
82 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 
 would find out who the girl was and work it to get invited 
 up to her house. Perhaps he was a fortunate loser of his 
 bet after all. 
 
 As he watched the girl playing gradually the music 
 entered his consciousness. He was fond of music, and 
 had heard the best of the world of course. This was 
 meltingly lovely. The girl had fine appreciation and much 
 expression, even when the medium of her melody was 
 clumsy things like bells. She had seemed to make them 
 glad as they pealed out their melodies. He had not known 
 bells could sound like happy children, or like birds. 
 
 His meditations were interrupted by a tap on the door, 
 followed by the entrance of his host bearing a tray: 
 
 " Good-morning," he said pleasantly, " I see you're 
 up. How is the sprain? Better? Would you like me to 
 dress it again ? '' 
 
 He came over to the desk and set down the tray on 
 which was beautifully brown buttered toast, eggs 
 and coffee : 
 
 " Fve brought you just a bite. It's so late you won't 
 want much, for we have dinner immediately after church. 
 I suppose you wouldn't feel like going over to the service ?" 
 
 " Service ? " the young man drawled almost insolently. 
 
 " Yes, service is at eleven. Would you care to go 
 over? I could assist you." 
 
 " Naw, I shouldn't care to go," he answered rudely, 
 "Fm pulling out of here as soon as I can get that machine 
 of mine running. By the way, I've been doing some tele- 
 phoning" — he slung a ten dollar note on the desk. " I 
 didn't ask how much it was, guess that'll cover it. Now, 
 help me to the big chair and I'll sample your breakfast.'^ 
 
 The minister picked up the young man easily and 
 placed him in the big chair before the guest realized what 
 was doing, and then turned and took the ten dollar bill 
 between his thumb and finger and flipped it down in the 
 young man's lap. 
 
IW<< 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 8S 
 
 " Keep it/' he said briefly, " It's of no consequence." 
 " But it was long distance," explained the guest loftily, 
 " It'll be quite a sum. I talked overtime." 
 
 ** No matter," said the minister pulling out a drawer 
 
 f the desk and gathering a few papers and his Bible. 
 
 Now, would you like me to look at that ankle before I 
 
 go, or will you wait for the doctor ? He's likely to be back 
 
 before long, and I've left a call for him." 
 
 " I'll wait for the doctor," the young man's tone ap- 
 proached the insolent note again, " and by the way, I wish 
 you'd send for a mechanician. I've got to get that 
 car running." 
 
 " I'm sorry," said Severn, " I'm afraid you'll have to 
 wait. The only one in this region that would be at all 
 likely to help you out with those bearings is Carter. He 
 has a car, or had one, of that make. He might happen to 
 have some bearings, but it is not at all likely. Or, he 
 could tow you ten miles to Monopoly. But Carter is not 
 at home yet." 
 
 The young man fairly frothed at the mouth : 
 " Do you rnean to tell me that there is no one can 
 mend a broken machine around this forsaken dump? 
 Where's your nearest garage? Send for a man to come 
 at once. I'm willing to pay anything," he flourished a 
 handful of bills. 
 
 The minister looked at his watch anxiously : 
 " I'm sorry," he said again, " I've got to go to the 
 service now. There is a garage at Monopoly and their 
 number is 97-M. You can phone them if you are not 
 satisfied. I tried them quite early this morning while you 
 were still sleeping, but there was nothing doing. The 
 truth is the people around this region are a little prejudiced 
 ■against working seven days out of the week, although 
 ^phey will help a man out in a case like yours when they can, 
 ^■>ut it seems the repair man, the only one who knows about 
 
84 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 funeral and won't be back till to-morrow morning. Now, 
 if you're quite comfortable FU have to leave you for a 
 little while. It is time for my service to begin." 
 
 The young man looked at his host with astonishment. 
 He was not used to being treated in this off-hand way. He 
 could hardly believe his ears. Throw back his money and 
 lay down the law that way 1 
 
 " Wait ! " he thundered as the door was about to close 
 upon the departing minister. 
 
 Severn turned and regarded his guest quietly, 
 questioningly : 
 
 " Who's that girl over there in the window playing 
 the organ ? " He pulled the curtain aside and revealed a 
 glimpse of the white and gold saint framed in the ivy. 
 Severn gave a swift cold glance at the insolent youth and 
 then answered with a slightly haughty note in his cour- 
 teous voice, albeit a quiver of amusement on his lip : 
 
 " That is my daughter." 
 
 Laurence Shaft on dropped the curtain and turned to 
 stare at his host, but the minister had closed the door and 
 was already on his way to church. Then the youth pulled 
 back the curtain again and regarded the lady. The man's 
 daughter ! And playing like that ! 
 
 The rich notes of the organ were rolling out into the 
 summer day, a wonderful theme from an old master, 
 grandly played. Yes, she could play. She had been well 
 taught. And the looks of her ! She was wonderful at this 
 distance. Were these then wealthy people perhaps sum- 
 mering in this quiet resort ? He glanced about at the simple 
 furnishings. That was a good rug at his feet, worn in 
 places, but soft in tone and unmistakably of the Orient. 
 The desk was of fumed oak, somewhat massive and digni- 
 fied with a touch of hand carving. The chairs were of the 
 same dark oak with leather cushions, and the couch so 
 covered by his bed drapery that he could not see it, but he 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 85 
 
 remembered its comfort. There was nothing showy or 
 expensive looking but ever3^hing simple and good. One 
 or two fine old pictures on the wall gave evidence of good 
 taste. The only luxury seemed books, rows and rows of 
 them behind glass doors in cases built into the wall. They 
 lined each space between windows and doors, and in sev- 
 eral spots reached to the ceiling. He decided that these 
 people must have had money and lost it. These things 
 were old and had perhaps been inherited. But the girl! 
 She teased his curiosity. She seemed of a type entirely 
 new, and most attractive. Well, here was good luck again ! 
 He would stay till church was out and see what she might 
 be like at nearer view. It might amuse him to play the 
 invalid for a day or two and investigate her. Meantime, 
 he must call up that garage and see what could be done for 
 the car. If he could get it patched up by noon he might 
 take the girl out for a spin in the afternoon. One could 
 judge a girl much better getting her off by herself that 
 way. He didn't seem to relish the memory of that father's 
 smile and haughty tone as he said " My daughter." Prob- 
 ably was all kinds of fussy about her. But if the girl had 
 any pep at all she surely would enjoy getting away from 
 oversight for a few hours. He hoped Opal would call 
 before they got back from their service. It might be 
 awkward talking with them all around. 
 
 But the organ was suddenly drowned in a burst 
 of song: 
 
 "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy- 
 Ghost, As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be — world 
 without end, Amen ! " 
 
 Somehow the words struck him with a strange awe, 
 they were so distinct, and almost in the room with him. 
 He looked about half feeling that the room was filled with 
 people, and felt curiously alone. There was an atmos- 
 
86 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 phere in the little house of everybody being gone to church. 
 They had all gone and left him alone. It amused him. 
 He wondered about this odd family who seemed to be 
 under the domination of a church service. They had left 
 him a stranger alone in their house. The doors and win- 
 dows were all open. How did they know but he was 
 a burglar? 
 
 Some one was talking now. It sounded like the voice 
 of his host. It might be a prayer. How peculiar! He 
 must be a preacher. Yet: he had been sent to him to fix 
 his car. He did not look Hke a laboring man. He looked 
 as if he might be, — ^well almost anything — even a gentle- 
 man. But if he was a clergyman, why, that of course 
 explained the ascetic type, the nun-like profile of the girl, 
 the skilled musician. Clergymen were apt to educate their 
 children, even without much money. The girl would 
 probably be a prude and bore, but there was a chance that 
 she might be a princess in disguise and need a prince to 
 show her a good time. He would take the chance at least 
 until after dinner. 
 
 So he ate his delicate toast, and drank his delicious 
 coffee, and wished he had asked that queer man to have his 
 flask filled at the drug store before he went to his old 
 service, but consoled himself with numerous cigarettes, 
 while he watched the face of the musician, and listened 
 idly to the music. 
 
 It was plain that the young organist was also the choir 
 leader, for her expressive face was turned toward the 
 singers, and her lovely head kept time. Now and then a 
 motion of the hand seemed to give a direction or warning. 
 And the choir too sang with great sweetness and ex- 
 pression. They were well trained. But what a bore such 
 a life must be to a girl. Still, if she had never known 
 an3^hing else — ! Well, he would like to see her at closer 
 range. He lit another cigarette and studied her profile as 
 
 I 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 87 
 
 she slipped out of the organ bench and settled herself 
 nearer the window. He could hear the man's voice read- 
 ing now. Some of the words drew his idle attention : 
 
 "All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the 
 Lord weigheth the spirits." 
 
 Curious sentence that! It caught in his brain. It 
 seemed rather true. From the Bible probably of course, 
 though he was not very familiar with that volume, never 
 having been obliged to go to Sunday School in his child- 
 hood days ? But was it true ? Were all a man's ways clean 
 in his own eyes ? Take, for instance, his own ways ? He 
 always did about as he pleased, and he had never asked 
 himself whether his ways were clean or not. He hadn't 
 particularly cared. He supposed some people would think 
 they were not — but in his own eyes, well — ^was he clean? 
 Take for instance this expedition of his ? Running a race 
 to get another man's wife, — an alleged friend's wife, too? 
 It did seem rather despicable when one thought of it after 
 the jag was off. But then one was not quite responsible 
 for what one did with a jag on, and what the deuce did 
 the Lord have to do with it SLnyway ? How could the Lord 
 weigh the spirit? That meant of course that he saw 
 through all subterfuges. Well, what of it? 
 
 Another sentence caught his ear : 
 
 " When a man's ways please the Lord, he maketh even his 
 enemies to be at peace with him." 
 
 How odd, the Lord, — if there was a Lord, he had 
 never thought much about it — but how odd, if there was 
 a Lord for Him to care about a man's ways. If he were 
 Lord he wouldn't care, he'd only want them to keep out of 
 his way. He would probably crush them like ants, if he 
 were Lord. But the Lord — ^taking any notice of men's 
 ways, and being pleased by them and looking out to pro- 
 tect him from enemies ! It certainly was quaint — a quaint 
 
88 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 idea! He glanced again at the reverent face of the girl, 
 the down drooped eyes, the lovely sensitive mouth. 
 Quaint, that was the word for her, quaint and unusual. 
 He certainly was going to enjoy meeting her. 
 
 " Ting-aling-ling-ling ! " burst out the telephone bell 
 on the desk. He frowned and dropped the curtain. Was 
 that Opal? He hobbled to the desk painfully, half an- 
 noyed that she had called him from the contemplation of 
 this novel scene, not so sure that he would bother to call 
 up that garage yet. Let it go till he had sampled the girl. 
 
 He took down the receiver and Opal's voice greeted 
 him, mockingly, tauntingly from his own world. The 
 little ivy leaved church with its Saint Cecilia at the organ, 
 and its strange weird message about a God that cared for 
 man's ways, dropped away like a dream that was past. 
 
 When he hung up the receiver and turned back to his 
 couch again the girl had closed the window. It annoyed 
 him. He did not know how his giddy badinage had 
 clashed in upon the last words of the sermon. 
 
 It seemed a long time after the closing hymn before 
 the little throng melted away down the maple lined street. 
 The young man watched them curiously from behind his 
 curtain, finding only food for amusement in most of them. 
 And then came the minister, lingering to talk to one here 
 and there, and his wife — it was undoubtedly his wife, 
 even the hare-brained Laurie knew her, in the gray 
 organdie, with the white at her neck, and the soft white 
 hat. She had a pleasant light in her eyes, and one saw at 
 once that she was a lady. There was a grace about her 
 that made the girl seem possible. And lastly, came the girl. 
 
 She stepped from the church door in her white dress 
 and simple white hat, white even to her little shoes, and 
 correct in every way, he could see that. She was no 
 country gawk! She came forth lightly into the sunshine 
 which caught her hair in golden tendrils around her face 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 89 
 
 as if it loved to hide therein, and she was immediately 
 surrounded by half a dozen urchins. One had brought her 
 some lilies, great white starry things with golden hearts, 
 and she gathered them into her arms as if she loved them, 
 and smiled at the boys. One could see how they adored her. 
 She lingered talking to them, and laid her hand on one 
 boy's shoulder, he walking like a knight beside her trying 
 to act as if he did not know her hand was there. His head 
 was drooped, but he lifted it with a grin at last and gave 
 her a nod which seemed to make her glad, for her face 
 broke forth in another smile : 
 
 " Well, don't forget, to-night," she called as they 
 turned to go, " and remember to tell Billy ! " 
 
 Then she came trippingly across the grass, a song on 
 her lips. Some girl 1 Say ! She certainly was a stunner 1 
 
 I 
 
VIII 
 
 Opal Verrons was small and slight with large child- 
 like eyes that could look like a baby's, but that could hold 
 the very devil on occasions. The eyes were dark and lus- 
 trous with long curling black lashes framing them in a face 
 that might have been modeled for an angel, so round the 
 curves, so enchanting the lips, so lofty the white brow. 
 Angele Potocka had no lovelier set to her head, no more 
 limpal fire in her eye, than had Opal Verrons. Indeed 
 her lovers often called her the Fire Opal. The only dif- 
 ference was that Angele Potocka developed her brains, of 
 which she had plenty, while Opal Verrons had placed her 
 entire care upon developing her lovely little body, though 
 she too had plenty of brains on occasion. 
 
 And she knew how to dress! So simply, so slightly 
 sometimes, so perfectly to give a setting — the right setting 
 — to her little self. She wore her heavy dark hair bobbed, 
 and it curled about her small head exquisitely, giving her 
 the look of a Raphael Cherub or a boy page in the court 
 of King Arthur. With a flat band of silver olive leaves 
 about her brow, and the soft hair waving out below, 
 nothing more was necessary for a costume save a brief 
 drapery of silver spangled cloth with a strap of jewels 
 and a wisp of black malines for a scarf. She was always 
 startling and lovely even in her simplest costume. Many 
 people turned to watch her in a simple dark blue serge 
 made like a child's girded with a delicate arrangement of 
 medallions and chains of white metal, her dark rough 
 woollen stockings rolled girlishly below white, dimpled 
 knees, and her feet shod in flat soled white buckskin shoes. 
 She was young enough to " get away with it," the older 
 women said cattishly as they watched her stroll away to 
 
 90 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 91 
 
 the beach with a new man each day, and noted her art- 
 less grace and indifferent pose. That she had a burly 
 millionaire husband who still was under her spell and 
 watched her jealously only made her more interesting, 
 and they pitied her for being tied to a man twice her age 
 and bulky as a bale of cotton. She who could dance like a 
 sylph and was light on her little feet as a thistle down. 
 Though wise ones sometimes said that Opal had her young 
 eyes wide open when she married Ed Verrons, and she 
 had him right under her little pink well manicured thumb. 
 And some said she was not nearly so young as she looked. 
 Her hands were the weakest point in Opal Verron's 
 whole outfit. Not that they were unlovely in form or 
 ungraceful. They were so small they hardly seemed like 
 hands, so undeveloped, so useless, with the dimpling of a 
 baby's, yet the sharp nails of a little beast. They were so 
 plump and well cared for they were fairly sleek, and had 
 an old wise air about them as she patted her puffy curls 
 daintily with a motion all her own that showed her lovely 
 rounded arm, and every needle-pointed shell-tinted finger 
 nail, sleek and puffy, and never used, not even for a bit 
 of embroidery or knitting. She couldn't, you know, with 
 those sharp transparent little nails, they might break. 
 They were like her little sharp teeth that always reminded 
 one of a mouse's teeth, and made one shudder at how 
 sharp they would be should she ever decide to bite. 
 
 But her smile was like the mixing of all smiles, a 
 baby's, a woman-of-the-world, a grieved child's, and a 
 spirit who had put aside all moral purpose. Perhaps, like 
 mixed drinks it was for that reason but the more intoxi- 
 cating. And because she did not hide her charms and was 
 lavish with her smiles, there were more poor victims about 
 her little feet than about any other woman at the shore that 
 Rummer. Men talked about her in the smoking rooms and 
 Milliard rooms and compared her tovamps of other seasons, 
 
 I 
 
92 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 and decided she had left them all in the shade. She was 
 a perfect production of the modern age, more perfect than 
 others because she knew how to do the boldest things with 
 that cherubic air that bereft sin of its natural ugliness and 
 made it beautiful and delicious, as if degradation had 
 suddenly become an exalted thing, like some of the old 
 rites in a Pagan Temple, and she a lovely priestess. And 
 when each new folly was over there was she with her inno- 
 cent baby air, and her pure childlike face that looked 
 dreamily out from its frame of little girl hair, and seemed 
 not to have been soiled at all. And so men who played her 
 games lost their sense of sin and fell that much lower 
 than those who sin and know it and are afraid to look 
 themselves in the face. When a man loses his sense of 
 shame, of being among the pigs, he is in a far coun- 
 try indeed. 
 
 But Opal Verrons sauntering forth to the Hotel piazza 
 in company with three of her quondam admirers suddenly 
 lost her luxurious air of nestling content. The hotel clerk 
 handed her two telegrams as she passed the desk. She tore 
 them open carelessly, but her eyes grew wide with horror 
 as she read. 
 
 Percy Emerson had been arrested. He had run over a 
 woman and a baby and both were in a hospital in a critical 
 condition. He would be held without bail until it was 
 seen whether they lived. 
 
 She drew in her breath with a frightened gasp and bit 
 at her red lip with her little sharp teeth. A pretty child 
 with floating curls and dainty apparel ran laughing across 
 her way, its hand outstretched to a tiny white dog that 
 was dancing after her, and Opal gave a sharp cry and 
 tore the telegram into small bits. But when she opened 
 the second message her face paled under its delicate rouge 
 as she read : " Mortimer McMarter killed in an accident 
 when his car collided with a truck. His body lies at 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 93 
 
 Saybrook Inn. We find your address on his person, with 
 a request to let you know if anything happens to him. 
 What do you wish done with the body? '' 
 
 Those who watched her face as she read say that it 
 took on an ashen color and she looked years older. Her 
 real spirit seemed to be looking forth from those wide 
 limpid eyes for an instant, the spirit of a coward who had 
 been fooling the world ; the spirit of a lost soul who had 
 grown old in sin ; the spirit of a soul who had stepped over 
 the bounds and sinned beyond her depth. 
 
 She looked about upon them all, stricken, appalled, — 
 not sorry but just afraid, — and not for her friends, but 
 for herself! And then she gave a horrid little lost laugh 
 and dropping the telegram as if it had burned her, she 
 flung out her voice upon them with a blaze in her big 
 eyes and a snarl in her lute-voice : 
 
 " Well, I wasn't to blame was I ? They all were grown 
 men, weren't they? It was up to them. Tm going to get 
 out of here ! This is an awful place ! " 
 
 She gave a shudder and turning swiftly fled to the 
 elevator, catching it just as the door was being shut, and 
 they saw her rising behind the black and gold grating and 
 waving a mocking little white hand at them as they 
 watched her amazed. Then one of them stooped and 
 picked up the telegram. And while they still stood at the 
 doorway wondering some one pointed to a brilliant blue 
 car that was sliding down the avenue across the beach road. 
 
 " She has gone ! " they said looking at one another 
 strangely. Did she really care then? 
 
 The dinner at Sabbath Valley parsonage was a good 
 one. It was quite different from any dinner Laurie 
 Shafton had ever eaten before. It had a taste that he 
 hadn't imagined just plain chicken and mashed potatoes 
 and bread and butter and coffee and cherry pie could have. 
 
94 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Those were things he seldom picked out from a menu, 
 and he met them as something new and delicious, prepared 
 in this wonderful country way. 
 
 Also the atmosphere was queer and interesting. 
 
 The minister had helped him into the dining-room, a 
 cheery room with a bay window looking toward the church 
 and a window box of nasturtiums in which the bees hum- 
 med and buzzed. 
 
 The girl came in and acknowledged the casual intro- 
 duction of her father with a quite sophisticated nod and 
 sat down across from him. And there was a prayer at 
 the beginning of the meal! Just as he was about to say 
 something graceful to the girl, there was a prayer. It was 
 almost embarrassing. He had never seen one before like 
 this. At a boarding school once he had experienced a 
 thing they called " grace " which consisted in standing 
 behind their chairs while the entire assembled hungry mul- 
 titude repeated a poem of a religious nature. He remem- 
 bered they used to spend their time making up parodies 
 on it — one ran something about " this same old fish upon 
 my plate," and rhymed with " hate." He stared at the 
 lovely bowed hair of the girl across the table while it was 
 going on, and got ready a remark calculated to draw her 
 smiles, but the girl lifted eyes that seemed so far away 
 he felt as though she did not see him, and he contented 
 himself with replying to his host's question something 
 about the part of the chicken he liked best. It was a 
 queer home to him, it seemed so intimate. Even the 
 chicken seemed to be a detail of their life together, per- 
 haps because there was only one chicken, and one breast. 
 Where he dwelt there were countless breasts, and every- 
 body had a whole breast if he wanted it, or a whole chicken 
 for the matter of that. Here they had to stop and ask 
 what others liked before they chose for themselves. This 
 analysis went queerly on in his mind while he sat waiting 
 
THE CITY OF FERE 95 
 
 for his plate and wondering over the little things they 
 were talking about. Mrs. Severn said Miss Saxon had 
 been crying all through church, and she told her Billy had 
 been away all night. She was awfully worried about his 
 going with that baseball team 
 
 A fleeting shadow passed over the girl's face : 
 
 " Billy promised me he would be there to-day/' she 
 said thoughtfully, " something must have happened. I 
 don't think Billy was with the baseball team — " then her 
 eyes travelled away out the window to the distant hills, 
 she didn't seem to see Laurence Shafton at all. It was a 
 new experience for him. He was fairly good looking and 
 knew it. 
 
 Who the deuce was this Billy? And what did she care 
 about Miss Saxon crying ? Did she care so much for Billy 
 already? Would it be worth his while to make her uncare? 
 
 " Mrs. Carter wasn't out," said Mrs. Severn as she 
 poured coffee, ** I hope she's not having more trouble with 
 her neuralgia." 
 
 The minister suddenly looked up from his carving : 
 
 *' Did Mark come back yesterday, Marilyn? " 
 
 The girl drew a quick breath and brought back her 
 eyes from the hills, but she did not look at the young man : 
 " No, father he didn't come." 
 
 Who the deuce was Mark? Of course there would 
 be several, but there was always one. Billy and Mark ! 
 It was growing interesting. 
 
 But Billy and Mark were not mentioned again, though 
 a deep gravity seemed to have settled into the eyes of the 
 family since their names had come up. Laurie decided to 
 speak of the weather and the roads : 
 
 '* Glorious weather we're having," he chirped out 
 condescendingly, " But you certainly have the limit for 
 
 I roads. What's the matter with the highway? . Had a 
 Detour right in the best part of the road. Bridge down, 
 i 
 
96 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 it said, road flooded! Made the deuce of a time 
 for me — ! " 
 
 " Bridge ?" remarked Marilyn looking up thoughtfully. 
 
 "Flood?" echoed the minister sharply. 
 
 " Yes. About two miles back where the highway 
 crosses this valley. Put me in some fix. Had a bet on you 
 know. Date with a lady. Staked a lot of money on 
 winning, too. Hard luck," Then he looked across at 
 Marilyn's attentive face. Ah! He was getting her at 
 last ! More on that line. 
 
 " But it'll not be all loss," he added gallantly with a 
 gesture of admiration toward her, " You see I didn't have 
 any idea I was going to meet you." 
 
 But Marilyn's eyes were regarding him soberly, stead- 
 ily, analytically, without an answering smile. It was 
 as if she did not like what he had said — if indeed she 
 had heard it at all — ^as if she were offended at it. Then 
 the eyes took on an impersonal look and wandered thought- 
 fully to the mountains in the distance. Laurie felt his 
 cheeks burn. He felt almost embarrassed again, like 
 during the prayer. Didn't the girl know he was paying 
 her a compliment? Or was she such a prude that she 
 thought him presuming on so slight an acquaintance? 
 Her father was speaking: 
 
 " I don't quite understand," "he said thoughtfully. 
 "There is no bridge within ten miles, and nothing to flood 
 the road but the Creek, which never was known to over- 
 flow its banks more than a few feet at most. The highway 
 is far above the valley. You must have been a bit 
 turned around." 
 
 The young man laughed lightly : 
 
 " Well, perhaps I had a jag on. I'm not surprised. 
 I'd been driving for hours and had to drink to keep my 
 nerve till morning. There were some dandy spilling places 
 around those mountain curves. One doesn't care to look 
 out and see when one is driving at top speed." 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 97 
 
 I 
 
 ^ Heavens! What had he said now? The girl's eyes 
 came round to look him over again and went through to 
 his soul like a lightning flash and away again, and there 
 was actually scorn on her lips. He must take another 
 line. He couldn't understand this haughty country beauty 
 in the least. 
 
 " I certainly did enjoy your music," he flashed forth 
 with a little of his own natural gaiety in his voice that 
 made him so universal a favorite. 
 
 The gitl turned gravely toward him and surveyed him 
 once more as if she were surprised and perhaps had not 
 done him justice. She looked like one who would always 
 be willing to do one justice. He felt encouraged : 
 
 "If it hadn't been for this blamed foot of mine I'd 
 have hobbled over to the — service. I was sorry not to 
 hear the music closer." 
 
 " There is another service this evening," she said 
 pleasantly, " Perhaps father can help you over. It is a 
 rather good organ for so small a one." She was trying to 
 be polite to him. It put him on his metal. It made him 
 remember how rude he had been to her father the 
 night before. 
 
 " Delightful organ I'm sure," he returned, " but it was 
 the organist that I noticed. One doesn't often hear such 
 playing even on a good organ." 
 
 " Oh, I've been well taught," said the girl without self- 
 consciousness. " But the children are to sing this evening. 
 You'll like to hear the children I'm sure. They are doing 
 fairly well now." 
 
 " Charmed, I'm sure," he said with added flattery of 
 his eyes which she did not take at all because she was 
 passing her mother's plate for more gravy. How odd not 
 to have a servant pass it ! 
 
 " You come from New York ? " the host hazarded. 
 
 " Yes," drawled the youth, " Shafton's my name, 
 7 
 
98 THE CITY OF FIBE 
 
 Laurence Shafton, son of William J., of Shafton and 
 Gates you know," he added impressively. 
 
 The host was polite but unimpressed. It was almost 
 as though he had never heard of William J. Shafton the 
 multi-millionaire. Or was it ? Dash the man, he had such a 
 way with him of acting as though he knew everything and 
 nothing impressed him ; as though he was just as good as 
 the next one ! As though his father was something even 
 greater than a millionaire! He didn't seem to be in the 
 least like Laurie's idea of a clergyman. He couldn't seem 
 to get anywhere with him. 
 
 The talk drifted on at the table, ebbing and flowing 
 about the two ladies as the tide touches a rising strand 
 and runs away. The girl and her mother answered his 
 questions with direct steady gaze, and polite phrases, but 
 they did not gush nor have the attitude of taking him 
 eagerly into their circle as he was accustomed to being 
 taken in wherever he went. Nothing he said seemed to 
 reach further than kindly hospitality. When that was 
 fulfilled they were done and went back to their 
 own interests. 
 
 Marilyn did not seem to consider the young man a guest 
 of hers in any sense personally. After the dinner she moved 
 quietly out to the porch and seated herself in a far chair 
 with a leather bound book, perhaps a Bible, or prayer 
 book. He wasn't very familiar with such things. She 
 took a little gold pencil from a chain about her neck and 
 made notes on a bit of paper from what she read, and she 
 joined not at all in the conversation unless she was spoken 
 to, and then her thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. It 
 was maddening. 
 
 Once when a tough looking little urchin went by witK 
 a grin she flew down off the porch to the gate to talk with 
 iiim ; she stood there some time in earnest converse. What 
 
THE CITY OF FIEE 99 
 
 could a girl like that find to say to a mere kid ? When she 
 came back there was a look of trouble in her eyes, and by 
 and by her father asked if Harry had seen Billy, and she 
 shook her head with a cloud on her brow. It must be 
 Billy then. Billy was the one! Well, dash him! If he 
 couldn't go one better than Billy he would see ! Anyhow 
 Billy didn't have a sprained ankle, and a place in the 
 family ! A girl like that was worth a few days' invalidism. 
 His ankle didn't hurt much since the minister had dressed 
 it again. He believed he could get up and walk if he liked, 
 but he did not mean to. He meant to stay here a few days 
 and conquer this young beauty. It was likely only her way 
 of vamping a man, anyway, and a mighty tantalizing one 
 at that. Well, he would show her! And he would show 
 Billy, too, whoever Billy was ! A girl like that ! Why, — A 
 girl like that with a face like that would grace any gather- 
 ing, any home ! He had the fineness of taste to realize that 
 after he got done playing around with Opal and women like 
 her, this would be a lady any one would be proud to settle 
 down to. And why not? If he chose to fall in love with 
 a country nobody, why could' nt he ? What was the use of 
 being Laurie Shafton, son of the great William J. Shafton, 
 if he couldn't marry whom he would? Shafton would be 
 enough to bring any girl up to par in any society in the 
 universe. So Laurie Shafton set himself busily to 
 be agreeable. 
 
 And presently his opportunity arrived. Mrs. Severn 
 had gone in the house to take a nap, and the minister had 
 been called away to see a sick man. The girl continued to 
 study her little book : 
 
 " I wish you would come and amuse me," he said in 
 the voice of an interesting invalid. 
 
 The girl looked up and smiled absently: 
 
 "I'm sorry," she said, "but I have to go to my 
 
100 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Sunday-school class in a few minutes, and I was just get- 
 ting my lesson ready. Would you like me to get you 
 something to read? " 
 
 " No," he answered crossly. He was not used to being 
 crossed in any desire by a lady, " I want you to talk to me. 
 Bother the Sunday-school! Give them a vacation to-day 
 and let them go fishing. They^ll be delighted, Fm sure. 
 You have a wonderful foot. Do you know it? You must 
 be a good dancer. Haven't you a victrola here? We 
 might dance if only my foot weren't out of commission." 
 
 *' I don't dance, Mr. Shafton, and it is the Sabbath," 
 she smiled indulgently with her eyes on her book. 
 
 " Why don't you dance ? I could teach you easily. 
 And what has the Sabbath got to do with it ? " 
 
 " But I don't care to dance. It doesn't appeal to me in 
 the least. And the Sabbath has everything to do with it. 
 If I did dance I would not do it to-day." 
 
 " But why? " he asked in genuine wonder. 
 
 " Because this is the day set apart for enjoying God 
 and not enjoying ourselves." 
 
 He stared. 
 
 "You certainly are the most extraordinary young 
 woman I ever met," he said admiringly, " Did no one ever 
 tell you that you are very beautiful." 
 
 She gave him the benefit of her beautiful eyes then in 
 a cold amused glance : 
 
 " Among my friends, Mr. Shafton, it is not considered 
 good form to say such things to a lady of slight acquaint- 
 ance." She rose and gathered up her book and hat that 
 lay on the floor beside her chair, and drew herself up till 
 she seemed almost regal. 
 
 Laurie Shafton stumbled to his feet. He WJ 
 ashamed. He felt almost as he had felt once when h< 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 101 
 
 was caught with a jag on being rude to a friend of 
 his mother's : 
 
 " I beg your pardon," he said gracefully, " I hope you 
 will believe me, I meant no harm." 
 
 " It is no matter," said the girl graciously, " only I do 
 not like it. Now you must excuse me. I see my class 
 are gathering." 
 
 She put the hat on carelessly, with a push and a pat and 
 slipped past him down the steps and across the lawn. Her 
 dress brushed against his foot as she went and it seemed 
 like the touch of something ethereal. He never had felt 
 such an experience before. 
 
 She walked swiftly to a group of boys, ugly, uncomely, 
 overgrown kids, the same who had followed her after 
 church, and met them with eagerness. He felt a jealous 
 chagrin as he watched them follow her into the church, 
 an anger that she dared to trample upon him that way, 
 a fierce desire to get away and quaff the cup of admira^ 
 tion at the hand of some of his own friends, or to quaff 
 some cup, any cup, for he was thirsty, thirsty, thirsty, 
 and this was a dry and barren land. If he did stay and 
 try to win this haughty country beauty he would have to 
 find a secret source of supply somewhere or he never 
 would be able to live through it. 
 
 The Sunday-school hour wore away while he was 
 planning how to revenge himself, but she did not return. 
 She lingered for a long time on the church steps talking 
 with those everlasting kids again, and after they were 
 gone she went back into the church and began to play low; 
 sweet music. 
 
 J.t was growing late. Long red beams slanted down 
 the village street across the lawn, lingered and went out. 
 A single ruby burned on one of the memorial windows 
 
102 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 like a lamp, and went purple and then gray. It was 
 growing dusk, and that girl played on ! Dash it all ! Why 
 didn't she quit? It was wonderful music, but he wanted 
 to talk to her. If he hobbled slowly could he get across 
 that lawn? He decided to try. And then, just as he rose 
 and steadied himself by the porch pillar, down the street 
 in a whirl of dust and noisy claxon there came a great 
 blue car and drew up sharp in front of the door, while a 
 lute-like voice shouted gaily: "Laurie, Laurie Shafton, 
 is that you?" 
 
IX 
 
 After Billy had listened a long time he took a single 
 step to relieve his cramped toes, which were numb with the 
 tensity of his strained position. Stealthily as he could he 
 moved his shoe, but it seemed to grind loudly upon the 
 cement floor of the cellar, and he stopped frozen in tensity 
 again to hsten. After a second he heard a low growl as 
 if someone outside the house were speaking. Then all was 
 still. After a time he heard the steps again, cautiously, 
 walking over his head, and his spine seemed to rise right 
 up and lift him, as he stood trembling. He wasn't a bit 
 superstitious, Billy wasn't. He knew there was no such 
 thing as a ghost, and he wasn't going to be fooled by any 
 noises whatsoever, but anybody would admit it was an 
 unpleasant position to be in, pinned in a dark unfamiliar 
 cellar without a flash light, and steps coming overhead, 
 where only a dead man or a doped man was supposed to 
 be. He cast one swift glance back at the cobwebby win- 
 dow through which he had so recently arrived, and longed 
 to be back again, out in the open with the bells, the good 
 bells sounding a call in his ears. K he were out wouldn't 
 he run? Wouldn't he even leave his old bicycle to any 
 fate and runf But no! He couldn't! He would have to 
 come back inevitably. Whoever was upstairs in that house 
 alone and in peril he must save. Suppose — ! — His heart 
 gave a great dry sob within him and he turned away from 
 the dusty exit that looked so little now and so inadequate 
 for sudden flight. 
 
 The steps went on overhead shuffling a little louder, as 
 they seemed further off. They were climbing the stair 
 he believed. They wore rubber heels! Link had worn 
 rubber heels ! And Shorty's shoes were covered with old 
 
 103 
 
104 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 overshoes! Had they come back, perhaps to hide from 
 their pursuers? His heart sank. H that were so he must 
 get out somehow and go after the police, but that should 
 be his last resort. He didn't want to get any one else in 
 this scrape until he knew exactly what sort of a scrape it 
 was. It wasn't square to anybody — not square to the 
 doped man, not square to himself, not even square to Pat 
 and the other two, and — ^yes, he must own it, — not square 
 to Cart. That was his first consideration. Cart ! He must 
 find Cart. But first he must find out somehow who that 
 man was that had been kidnapped. 
 
 It seemed an age that he waited there in the cellar and 
 everything so still. Once he heard a door far up open, 
 and little shuffling noises, and by and by he could not stand 
 it any longer. Getting down softly on all fours, he crept 
 slowly, nioselessly over to the cellar stairs, and began 
 climbing, stopping at every step to listen. His efforts were 
 much hampered by the milk bottle which kept dragging 
 down to one side and threatening to hit against the steps. 
 But he felt that milk was essential to his mission. He 
 dared not go without it. The tools were in his other 
 pocket. They too kept catching in his sleeve as he moved 
 cautiously. At last he drew himself to the top step. There 
 was a crack of light under the door. Suppose it should be 
 locked? He could saw out a panel, but that would make a 
 noise, and he still had the feeling that someone was in that 
 house. A cellar was not a nice place in which to be trapped. 
 One bottle of milk wouldn't keep him alive very long. The 
 haunted house was a great way from anywhere. Even 
 the bells couldn't call him from there, once anybody chose 
 to fasten him in the cellar, and find the loose window and 
 fasten it up — ! 
 
 Such thoughts poured a torrent of hot fire through 
 his brain while his cold fingers gripped the door knob, 
 and slowly, fiercely, compellingly, made it turn in its 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 105 
 
 socket till its rusty old spring whined in complaint, and 
 then he held his breath to listen again. It seemed an age 
 before he dared put any weight upon that unlatched door 
 to see if it would move, and then he did it so cautiously 
 that he was not sure it was opening till a ray of light from 
 a high little window shot into his eyes and blinded him. 
 He held the knob like a vise, and it was another age 
 before he dared slowly release the spring and relax his 
 hand. Then he looked around. He found himself in a 
 kind of narrow butler's pantry with a swinging door 
 opposite him into the room at the back, and a narrow pas- 
 sage leading around the corner next the door. He peeked 
 cautiously, blinkingly round the door jamb and saw the 
 lower step of what must be back stairs. There were no 
 back stairs in Aunt Saxon's house, but before his mother 
 died Billy Gaston had lived in the city where they always 
 had back stairs. That door before him likely led to the 
 dining-room. He took a careful step, pushed the swing 
 door half an inch and satisfied himself that was the kitchen 
 at the back. No one there. Another step or two gave 
 him the same assurance about the dining-room and no one 
 there. He surveyed the distance to the foot of the back 
 stairs It seemed long. What he was afraid of was that 
 light space at the foot of those stairs. He was almost 
 sure there was a hall straight through to the front door, 
 and he had a hunch that that front door was open. If 
 he passed the steps and anyone was there they would see 
 him, and yet he wanted to get up those stairs now, right 
 away, before anything more happened. It was too still up 
 there to suit him. With trembling fingers he untied his 
 shoe strings, and slipped off his shoes, knotting the strings 
 together and slinging the shoes around his neck. He was 
 taking no chances He gripped the revolver with one hand 
 and stole out cautiously. When he reached the end of the 
 dining-room wall he applied an eye toward the opening of 
 
106 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 light, and behold it was as he had suspected, a hall leading 
 straight through to the front door, and Shorty, with his 
 full length profile cut clear against the morning, standing 
 on the upper step keeping lookout ! He dodged back and 
 caught his breath, then made a noiseless dart toward those 
 stairs. If Shorty heard, or if he turned and saw anything 
 he must have thought it was the reported ghost walking, 
 so silently and like a breath passed Billy up the stair. But 
 when he was come to the top, he held his breath again, 
 for now he could distinctly hear steps walking about in the 
 room close at hand, and peering up he saw the door was 
 open part way. He paused again to reconnoitre and his 
 heart set up an intolerable pounding in his breast. 
 
 He could dimly make out the back of a chair, and 
 further against a patch of light where the back window 
 must be he could see the foot board of a bed, the head of 
 which must be against the opposite wall The door was 
 open about a third of the way. There was a key in the 
 lock. Did that mean that they locked the man in? It 
 would be a great thing to get hold of that key ! 
 
 A moan in the direction of the bed startled him, and 
 prodded his weary mind. He gave a quick silent spring 
 across in front of the door and flattened himself against the 
 wall. He knew he had made a slight noise in his going, 
 and he felt the stillness in the room behind the half open 
 door. Link had heard him. It was a long time before he 
 dared stir again. 
 
 Link seemed to lay down something on the floor that 
 sounded like a dish and start toward the door. Billy felt the 
 blood fly to the top of his head. If Link came out he was 
 caught. Where could he fly? Not down stairs. Shorty was 
 there, with a gun of course. Would it do to snap that door 
 shut and lock Link in with the prisoner ? No telling what he 
 might do, and Shorty would come if there was an outcry. 
 He waited in an agony of suspense, but Link did not come 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 107 
 
 out yet. Instead he tiptoed back to the bed again, and 
 seemed to be arranging some things out of a basket on a 
 Httle stand by the bed. Billy applied an eye to the crack 
 of the door and got a brief glimpse. Then cautiously he 
 put out his stubby fingers and grasped that key, firmly, 
 gently; turning, slipping, little by little, till he had it safe 
 in his possession. Several times he thought Link turned 
 and looked toward the door. Once he almost dropped 
 the key as he was about to set it free from the lock, but 
 his anxious fingers were true to their trust, and the key 
 was at last drawn back and safely slid into Billy's pocket. 
 Then he looked around for a place to hide. There were 
 rooms on the front, and a door was open. He could slide 
 in there and hide It was dark, and there might be a closet. 
 He cast one eye through the door crack and beheld in the 
 dim light Link bending over the inert figure on the bed 
 with a cup and spoon in his hand. Perhaps they were 
 giving him more dope ! If he only could stop it somehow 1 
 The man was doped enough, sleeping all that time ! But 
 now was the time for him and the key to make an exit. 
 
 Slowly, cautiously he backed away from the door, down 
 the hall and into the next open door, groping his silent 
 way toward a little half moon in the shutter. He made a 
 quick calculation, glanced about, did some sleight of hand 
 with the door till it swung noiselessly shut, and then slip- 
 ping back to the window he examined the catches. There 
 was a pane of glass gone, but it was not in the right place. 
 If he only could manage to slide the sash down. He 
 turned the catch and applied a pressure to the upper sash, 
 but like most upper sashes it would not budge. If he 
 strained harder he might be able to move it but that would 
 make a noise and spoil his purpose. He looked wildly 
 round the room, with a feeling that something must help 
 hims and suddenly he discovered that the upper sash of the 
 other window was pulled all the way down, and a sweet 
 
108 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 breath of ^vild grape blossoms was being wafted to his 
 heated forehead. With a quick move he placed himself 
 under this window, which he realized must be almost over 
 Shorty's head. It was but the work of an instant to grasp 
 Pat's gun and stick its nose well through the little half 
 moon of an opening in the shutter, pointed straight over 
 Shorty's head into the woods, and pull the trigger. 
 
 The report went rolling, reverberating down the valley 
 from hill to hill like a whole barrage it seemed to Billy; 
 and perhaps to Shorty waiting for his pard below, but at 
 any rate before the echoes had ceased to roll Shorty was 
 no longer on the door step. He had vanished and was far 
 away, breaking through the underbrush, stumbling, and 
 cutting himself, getting up to stumble again, he hurled 
 himself away from that haunted spot. Ghosts were 
 nothing to Shorty. He could match himself against a 
 spirit any day, but ghosts that could shoot were another 
 matter, and he made good his going without hesitation 
 or needless waiting for his partner in crime. He was never 
 quite sure where that shot came from, whether from high 
 heaven or down beneath the earth 
 
 As for Link, if he was giving more dope, he did not 
 finish. He dropped a cup in his hurry and darted like a 
 winged thing to the head of the stairs, where he took the 
 flight at a slide and disappeared into the woods without 
 waiting for locks or keys or any such things. 
 
 "He seems a little nervous," grinned Billy, who had 
 climbed to the window seat with one eye applied to the 
 half moon, watching his victims take their hurried leave. 
 And lest they should dare to watch and return before he 
 was ready for them he sent another shot into the blue 
 sky, ricochetting along the hills; and still another, grimly, 
 after an interval. 
 
 Then swiftly turning he stole down the front stairs 
 and took the key from the lock, shut the door, pushing a 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 109 
 
 big bolt on the inside. With a hasty examination of the 
 lower floor that satisfied him that he was safely ensconced 
 in his stronghold and would not be open to immediate 
 interruption he hurried upstairs again. 
 
 His first act was to open a window and throw back the 
 shutters. The morning sunlight leaped in like a friend, 
 and a bird in a tree carolled out gladly. Something in 
 Billy's heart burst into a tear. A tear! Bah! He brushed 
 it away with his grimy hand and went over to the bed, 
 rolling the inert figure toward him till the face was in 
 plain view. A sudden fit of trembling took possession of 
 him and he dropped nervelessly beside the bed with his 
 hands outstretched and uttered a sob ending in a 
 single syllable, 
 
 '' Cart! " 
 
 For there on the bed still as the dead lay Mark Carter, 
 his beloved idol, and he had helped to put him there! 
 
 Thirty pieces of silver ! And his dearest friend dead, 
 perhaps ! A Judas ! All his life he would be a Judas. He 
 knew now why Judas hanged himself. If Cart was dead he 
 would have to hang himself ! Here in this house of death 
 he must hang himself, like Judas, poor fool. And he 
 would fling that blood money back. Only, Cart must not 
 he dead! It would be hell forever for Billy if Cart was 
 dead. He could not stand it! 
 
 Billy sprang to his feet with tears raining down his 
 cheeks, but his tired dirty face looked beautiful in its 
 anxiety. He tore open Mark Carter's coat and vest, 
 wrenched away collar, necktie and shirt, and laid 
 his face against the breast. It was warm! He struggled 
 closer and put his ear to the heart. It was beating ! 
 
 He shook him gently and called, 
 
 *'Cart! Cart! Oh, Boy!'' with sobs choking in his 
 throat. And all the while the little bird was singing in 
 a tree enough to split his feathered throat, and the sweet 
 
110 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 air full of wild grape was rushing into the long closed 
 room and driving out the musty air. 
 
 Billy laid Mark down gently on the dusty pillow and 
 opened another window. He stumbled over the cup and 
 spoon, and a bottle fell from the table and broke sending 
 out a pungent odor. But Billy crept close to his friend 
 once more and began rubbing his hands and forehead and 
 crooning to him as he had once done to his dog when he 
 suffered from a broken leg. Nobody would have known 
 Billy just then, as he stood crooning over Mark. 
 
 Water! He looked around. A broken pitcher stood 
 on the table half filled. He tasted it dubiously. It was 
 water, luke warm, but water ! He soused a towel he found 
 on the washstand into it and slopped it over Mark's face. 
 He went through all the manoeuvres they use on the foot- 
 ball field when a man is knocked out, and then he be- 
 thought him of the milk. Milk was an antidote for 
 poisons. If he could get some down him ! 
 
 Carefully he rinsed out a glass he found on the bureau 
 and poured some milk in it, crept on the bed and lifted 
 Mark's head in his arms, put the glass to his lips, and 
 begged and pled, and finally succeeded in prying the lips 
 and getting a few drops down. Such joy as thrilled him 
 when Mark finally swallowed. But it was a long time, 
 and Billy began to think he must go for the doctor, leave 
 his friend here at the mercy of who would come and go 
 after all. He had hoped he might keep his shame, and 
 Mark's capture from everybody, but what was that verse 
 the teacher had taught them once awhile ago? " Be sure 
 your sin will find you out." That was true. He couldn't 
 let Mark die. He must go for the doctor. Doc would 
 come, and he would keep his mouth shut, but Doc would 
 know, and Billy liked Doc. Wdl, he would have to get 
 him ! Mark would hate it so, too, but Billy would have to ! 
 
 It was just then that Mark drew a long deep breath of 
 
THE CITY OP FIRE 111 
 
 the sweet air, sighed and drew another. Billy pressed the 
 glass to his lips and Mark opened his eyes, saw the boy, 
 smiled, and said in a weak voice : 
 
 "Hullo, Billy, old boy, got knocked out, didn't I?" 
 Then he closed his eyes and seemed to go away again. 
 But Billy, with wildly beating heart poured some more 
 milk and came closer : 
 
 " Drink this. Cart. It's good. Drink it. We gotta 
 get them dirty bums. Cart ! Hurry up an' drink it ! " 
 
 Billy understood his friend. Mark opened his eyes 
 and roused a little. Presently he drank some more, nearly 
 a whole glass full and Billy took heart of hope. 
 
 " Do ya think ya could get up now. Cart, ef I he'ped 
 ya? " he asked anxiously, "We gotta get after those 
 guys ur they'll make a getaway." 
 
 " Sure ! " said Mark rousing again. " Go to it. Kid. 
 I'm with you," and he tried to sit up. But his head reeled 
 and he fell back. Billy's heart sank. He must get him 
 out of this house before the two keepers returned, perhaps 
 with Pat or some other partner in their crime. Patiently 
 he began again, and gradually by degrees he propped 
 Mark up, fed him more milk, and urged him to rise ; fairly 
 lifted him with his loving strength, across the room, and 
 finally, inch by inch down the stairs and out the back door. 
 
 Billy felt a great thrill when he heard that door shut 
 behind him and knew his friend was out in the open again 
 under God's sky. Nothing ever quite discouraged Billy 
 when he was out of doors. But it was a work of time 
 to get Mark across the clearing and down in the under- 
 growth out of sight of the house, where the old bicycle 
 lay. Once there Billy felt like holding a Thanksgiving 
 service. But Mark was very white and lay back on the 
 grass looking wholly unlike himself. 
 
 " Say, Cart," said Billy after a brief silence of 
 
112 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 thought, " I gotta get you on my machine. We gotta get 
 down to Unity an* phone." 
 
 " All right, old man, just as you say," murmured 
 Mark too dizzy to care. 
 
 So Billy with infinite tenderness, and much straining 
 of his young muscles got Mark up and managed to put him 
 astride the wheel; but it was tough going and slow, over 
 rough places, among undergrowth, and sometimes Billy 
 had to stop for breath as he walked and pushed and held 
 his friend. 
 
 But Mark was coming to his own again, and by the 
 time they reached a road he was able to keep his balance, 
 and know what he was doing. It was high noon before 
 they reached Unity and betook themselves to the drug 
 store. While Mark asked for medicine Billy hied him to 
 a telephone booth. His heart was beating wildly. He 
 feared him much that Mark's car was gone. 
 
 But the chief's voice answered him after a little wait- 
 ing, and he explained : 
 
 " Say, I'm the kid that phoned you early this morning. 
 Didya get that car aw'right? " Billy held his breath, his 
 jaded eyes dropped shut with anxiety and weariness. But 
 the chief's voice answered promptly, " yes, we got yer car 
 all right, but didn't get the men. They beat it when they 
 heard us coming. What sort of men were they, do 
 you know ? " 
 
 " Aw, that's aw'right. Chief, I'll tell ya when I gi'down 
 there. Can't tell ya over the phone. Say, I'm Billy, Billy 
 Gaston. You know me. Over to Sab'th Valley. Yes. 
 You seen me play on the team. Sure. Well, say Chief, 
 I'm here in Unity with the guy that owns the car. Mark 
 Carter. You know him. Sure ! Mark ! Well, he's all in, 
 an' he wants his car to get home. He's been up all night; 
 and he ain't fit to walk. He wants me to come over andj 
 bring his car back to Unity fer him. I got my bike here,] 
 
THE CITY OF FIEE 113 
 
 See ? Now, I ain't got a license of course, but I c'd bring 
 his along. That be aw'right Chief, just over to Unity? 
 Aw'right, Chief? Thank ya. Chief. Yas, I'm comin' 
 right away. S'long ! " 
 
 Billy saw Mark comfortably resting on a couch in the 
 back room of the drug store, where an old pal of his was 
 clerk, and then stopping only for an invigorating gulp or 
 two of a chocolate ice cream soda, he climbed on his old 
 wheel and pedalled on his happy way to Economy. The 
 winds touched him pleasantly as he passed, the sunshine 
 had a queer reddish look to his feverish eyes, and the 
 birds seemed to be singing in the top of his head, but he 
 was happy. He might go to sleep on the way and roll off 
 his wheel, but he should worry! Mark was safe. He 
 had almost sold him for thirty pieces of silver, but God 
 had somehow been good to him and Mark was alive. Now 
 he would serve him all the rest of his life, — Mark or 
 God, — it seemed all one to him now somehow, so long 
 had he idealized his friend, so mixed were his ideas 
 of theology. 
 
 But Billy did not go to sleep nor fall off his wheel, and 
 in due time he arrived in Economy and satisfied the Chief's 
 curiosity with vague answers, a vivid description of Link 
 and Shorty, and the suggestion that they might be found 
 somewhere near the Haunted House on Stark's mountain. 
 He had heard them talking about going there, he said. 
 He got away without a mention of the real happening at 
 Pleasant View or a hint that he had had anything to do 
 with the stealing of the car. Billy somehow was gifted 
 that way. He could shut his mouth always just in time, 
 and grin and give a turn to the subject that entirely 
 changed the current of thought, so he kept his own coun- 
 sel. Not for his own protection would he have kept back 
 any necessary information, but for Mark's sake. Yes — 
 for Mark's sake — ! Mark would not want it to be known. 
 
 I 
 
114 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 It was in the early evening, and the sky was still 
 touched by the after glow of sunset, beneath the evening 
 star, as Mark and Billy in the reclaimed car, finally started 
 from Unity for home. 
 
 In both their "hearts was the thought of the bells that 
 would be ringing now in Sabbath Valley for the evening 
 service, and of the one who would be playing them, and 
 each was trying to frame some excuse that would explain 
 his absence to her without really explaining anything. 
 
 And about this time the minister came forth from the 
 parsonage, much vexed in spirit by the appearance of the 
 outlandish lady in her outlandish car. She seemed to be 
 insisting on remaining at the parsonage as if it were a 
 common hostelry, and he and his wife had much per- 
 plexity to know just what to do. And now as he issued 
 quietly forth from a side door he could hear her lute-like 
 voice laughing from his front porch, and looking back 
 furtively he saw to his horror that the lady, as well as the 
 gentleman, was smoking a cigarette ! 
 
 He paused and tried to think just what would be the 
 best way to meet this situation, and while he hesitated his 
 senior elder, a man of narrow vision, hard judgments, yet 
 staunch sincerity, approached him. The minister had, 
 grown to expect something unpleasant whenever this man 
 sought him out, and to-night he shrank from the ordeal; 
 but anything was better than to have him see the visitor 
 upon his front steps, so Severn turned and hurried toward 
 him cordially : 
 
 " Good evening, Harricutt. It's been a good day, 
 hasn't it? '* he said grasping the wiry old hand: 
 
 " Not so pleasant as you'd think, Mr. Severn," re- 
 sponded the hard old voice harshly, " IVe come on very 
 unpleasant business. Very unpleasant indeed; but the 
 standard of the church must be kept up, and we must act 
 at once in this matter ! It is most serious, most serious ! IV 
 
 i 
 
r 
 
 THE CITY OF FIEE 115 
 
 just called a meeting of the session to be held after church, 
 and I've sent out for this Mark Carter to be present. 
 He must answer for himself the things that are being said 
 about him, or his name must be stricken from our church 
 roll. Do you know what they are saying about him, 
 Brother Severn ? Do you know what he's done ? " 
 
 But the arrow had entered the soul of the minister and 
 his voice was too unsteady to respond, so the senior 
 elder proceeded: 
 
 " He has been keeping company with a young woman 
 of dissolute character, and he has been to a place of 
 public amusement with her and been seen drinking 
 with her. He affects dance halls, and is known to 
 live a worldly life. It is time he was cast out from our 
 midst and become anathema. And now, it is quite pos- 
 sible he may be tried for murder 1 Have you heard what 
 happened last night, Mr. Severn? Did you know that 
 Mark Carter, a member of our church, tried to kill a man 
 down at the Blue Duck Tavern, and for jealousy about a 
 girl of loose character ? And now. Brother Severn, what 
 are we going to do about it ? " 
 
 Said the minister, answering quietly, calmly : 
 
 " Brother Harricutt, we are not going to do anything 
 about it just now. We are going into the church to wor- 
 ship God. We will wait at least until Mark Carter comes 
 back and see what he has to say for himself." 
 
 And about that minute, Mark, now thoroughly re- 
 stored and driving steadily along the road, turned to Billy 
 tnd «iid quietly with a twinkle in his eye : 
 
 ^ Kid, what made you put up that Detour ? " 
 
X 
 
 The service that evening had been one of peculiar 
 tenderness. The minister prayed so earnestly for the 
 graces of forgiveness, loving kindness and tender mercy, 
 that several in the congregation began to wonder who 
 had been hard on his neighbor now. It was almost un- 
 canny sometimes how that minister spotted out the faults 
 and petty differences in his flock. Many examined their 
 own hearts fearfully during the prayer, but at its close 
 the face of the senior Elder was stern and severe as ever 
 as he lifted his hymn book and began to turn the leaves 
 to the place. 
 
 Then the organ mellowed forth joyously: 
 
 "Give to the winds thy fears, 
 Trust and be undismayed, 
 God hears thy prayers and counts thy tears 
 God shall lift up thy head." 
 
 Elder Harricutt would much rather it had been " God 
 the All Terrible." His lips were pursed for battle. He 
 knew the minister was going to be soft hearted again, and 
 it would fall to his lot to uphold the spotless righteousness 
 of the church. That had been his attitude ever since he 
 became a Christian. He had always been trying to find a 
 flaw in Mr. Severn's theology, but much to his astonish- 
 ment and perhaps disappointment, he had never yet been 
 able to find a point on which they disagreed theologically, 
 when it came right down to old fashioned religion, but 
 he was always expecting that the next sermon would be the 
 one wherein the minister had broken loose from the old 
 dyed-in-the-wool creeds and joined himself to the new 
 and advanced thinkers, than whom, in his opinion, there 
 were no lower on the face of God's earth. And yet in 
 
 116 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 117 
 
 spite of it all he loved the minister, and was his strong 
 admirer and loyal adherent, self-appointed mentor 
 though he felt himself to be. 
 
 Over on the other side of the churcH Elder Dun- 
 cannon, tall, gaunt, hairy, with kind gray eyes and a 
 large mouth, reminding slightly of Abraham Lincoln, 
 sang earnestly, through steel bowed spectacles adjusted 
 far out on the end of his nose. Behind him Lemuel 
 Tipton, also an elder, sandy, with cherry lips, apple 
 cheeks and a fringe of grizzled red hair under his chin, sang 
 with his head thrown back, looking like a big robin. 
 The minister knew he could depend on those two. He 
 scanned his audience. The elders were all present. 
 Gibson. He had a narrow forehead, near-sighted eyes, 
 and an inclination to take the opposite side from the 
 minister. His lips were thin, and he pursed them often, 
 and believed in efficiency and discipline. He would un- 
 doubtedly go with Harricutt. Jones, the short fat one 
 who owned the plush mills and hated boys. He had taken 
 sides against Mark about the memorial window. No 
 hope from him! Fowler, small, thin, gray, with a re- 
 treating chin, had once lived next to Mrs Carter and had 
 a difference about some hens that strayed away to lay. 
 Harricutt likely had him all primed. Jones, Gibson, 
 Harricutt — ^three against three. Joyce's vote would 
 decide it. Joyce was a new man, owner of the canneries. 
 He was a great stickler for proprieties, yet he seemed to 
 feel that a minister's word was law — ^Well — ! God was 
 still above — ! 
 
 The benediction held a tenderness that fairly com- 
 pelled the waiting congregation to attend with their hearts. 
 
 " Let's go over there and hear that girl play," sug- 
 gested Laurie suddenly, " Church is out and we'll make 
 
118 THE CITY OF FIEE 
 
 her play the bells. They're simply great. She's 
 some player! " 
 
 Opal leaned back in her chair and regarded him 
 through the fringes of her eyelashes, laughing a silvery 
 peal that shivered into the reverence of the benediction 
 like a shower of icicles going down the back. Marilyn 
 heard and blended the Amen into the full organ to break 
 the shock as the startled congregation moved restlessly, 
 with half unclosed eyes. Elder Harricutt heard, shut 
 his eyes tighter, and pressed severe lips together with 
 resistance. This doubtless was that woman they called 
 Cherry. That irreverent Mark Carter must be close at 
 hand. And on the rose-vined porch Laurence Shafton 
 felt the sting of the laugh and drew himself together: 
 
 " Oh, Laurie, Laurie ! " she mocked, " You might as 
 well be dead at Saybrook Inn or imprisoned for killing a 
 family as fall in love with that girl. She isn't at all your 
 kind. How would you look singing psalms? But come 
 on, Tm game! I can see how she'll hate me. Can 
 you walk ? " 
 
 They sauntered slowly over to the church in the 
 fragrant darkness, he leaning on a cane he had found by 
 the door. The kindly, curious people coming out eyed 
 them interestedly, looking toward the two cars in front of 
 the parsonage, and wondered. It was a neighborhood 
 where everybody took a kindly interest in everybody else, 
 and the minister belonged to them all. Nothing went on 
 at his house that they did not just love and dote on. 
 
 " Seems to me that girl has an awful low-necked dress 
 for Sunday night," said Mrs. Little to Mrs. Jones as 
 they walked slowly down the street, " Did you catch the 
 flash of those diamonds on her neck and fingers? " 
 
 "Yes," said Mrs. Jones contemptuously, "paint on 
 her face too, thick as pie crust. I saw her come. She 
 drove her own car and her dresses were up to her knees, 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 119 
 
 and such stockings ! With stripes like lace in them ! And 
 little slippers with heels like knitting needles ! I declare, I 
 don't know what this generation is coming to ! I'm glad 
 my Nancy never wanted to go away to boarding 
 school. They say it's terrible, the boldness of young 
 girls nowadays." 
 
 " Well, if you'd ask me, Fd say she wasn't so very 
 young!'' declared Mrs. Little. "The light from the 
 church door was full in her face when I was coming down 
 the steps, and she looked as if she'd cut her eye teeth 
 sometime past." 
 
 "She had short hair," said Mrs. Jones, " for she pulled 
 off her hat and ran her fingers through it just like a boy. 
 I was cutting bread at the pantry window when she drove 
 up and I couldn't help seeing her." 
 
 " Oh, when my sister was up in New York this spring 
 she said she saw several old gray-haired women with bob- 
 bed hair. She said it was something terrible to see how 
 the world had run to foolishness." 
 
 "Well, I don'no as it's wicked to bob your hair," 
 said Mrs. Jones. " I suppose it does save some time 
 taking care of it if you have curly hair, and it looks good 
 on you, but mercy ! It attracts so much attention. Well, 
 I'm glad we don't live in New York! I declare, every 
 time I come to church and hear Mr. Severn preach I just 
 want to thank God that my lines are cast in Sabbath 
 Valley. But speaking of going to boarding school, it 
 didn't hurt Marilyn Severn to go. She's just as sweet 
 and unspoiled as when she went away.'* 
 
 " Oh, her! You couldn't spoil her. She's all spirit. 
 She's got both her father's and mother's souls mixed up 
 in her and you couldn't get a better combination. I 
 declare I often wonder the devil lets two such good people 
 live. I suppose he doesn't mind as long's he can confine 
 'em to a little place among the hills. But my soul! If 
 
120 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 those two visitors didn't need a sermon to-night I never 
 saw folks that did. Do you know, when that man came 
 last night in a broken down car he swore so he woke us all 
 up, all around the neighborhood. If it had been anybody- 
 else in town but Mr. Severn he'd been driven out or tarred 
 and feathered. Well, good-night. I guess you aren't 
 afraid to walk the rest of the way alone." 
 
 Back in the church Marilyn had lingered at the organ, 
 partly because she dreaded going back to the house while 
 the two strangers were there, partly because it was only at 
 the organ that she could seem to let her soul give voice to 
 the cry of its longing. All day she had prayed while going 
 quietly about her Sabbath duties. All day she steadily held 
 herself to the tasks that were usually her joy and delight, 
 though sometimes it seemed that she could not go on with 
 them. Billy and Mark ! Where were they? What had their 
 absence to do with one another? Somehow it comforted 
 her a little to think of them both away, and then again 
 it disquieted her. Perhaps, oh, perhaps Mark had really 
 changed as people said he had. Perhaps he had taken 
 Billy to a baseball game somewhere. In New York or 
 many other places that would not seem an unusual thing, 
 she knew, not so much out of the way. Even church 
 members were lenient about these things in the great 
 world. It would not be strange if Mark had grown lax. 
 But here in Sabbath Valley public opinion on the keeping 
 of the Sabbath day was so strong that it meant a great 
 deal. It amounted to public disgrace to disregard the 
 ordinary rules of Sabbath ; for in Sabbath Valley working 
 and playing were alike laid aside for the entire twenty- 
 four hours, the housewives prepared their dinner the day 
 before, an unusually good one always, with some delec- 
 table dessert that would keep on ice, and everything as in 
 the olden time was prepared in the home for a real keep- 
 ing of a day of rest and enjoyment of the Lord. Even 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE lU 
 
 the children had special pasttimes that belonged to that 
 day only, and Marilyn Severn still cherished a box of 
 wonderful stone blocks that had been her most precious 
 possessions as a child, and had been used for Sabbath 
 amusement. With these blocks she built temples, laid 
 out cities, went through mimic battles of the Bible until 
 every story lived as real as if she had been there. There 
 were three tiny blocks, one a quarter of a cube which she 
 always called Saul, and two half the size that were David 
 and Jonathan. So vivid and so happy were those Sunday 
 afternoons with mother and father and the blocks. Sab- 
 bath devoted to the pursuance of heavenly things had 
 meant real joy to Marilyn. The calm and quiet of it were 
 delight. It had been the hardest thing about her years in 
 the world that there seemed to be so little Sabbath there. 
 Only by going to her own room and fencing herself away 
 from her friends, could she get any semblance of what 
 had been so dear to her, that feeling of leisure to talk and 
 think about Christ, her dearest friend. I grant she was an 
 unusual girl. There is now and then an unusual girl. We 
 do not always hear about them. They are not always beau- 
 tiful nor gifted. It chanced that Marilyn was all three. 
 
 So she sat and played at her dear organ, played sweet 
 and tender hymns. Played gentle, pleading, throbbing 
 themes that almost spoke their words out, as she saw Elder 
 Harricutt leading his file of elders into the session room 
 which was just behind the organ. She knew that in all 
 probability there was to be a time of trial for her father, 
 and that some poor soul would be mauled over and ground 
 up in the mill of criticism, or else some of her father's 
 dearest plans were to be held up for an unsympathetic dis- 
 cussion. She thanked God for the strong homely face of 
 Elder Duncannon as he stalked behind the rest with a look 
 of uplift on his worn countenance, and she played 
 on softly through another hymn, until suddenly somehow; 
 
m THE CITY OF FIRE^ 
 
 she became aware that the two strangers on the parsonage 
 porch had left their rockers and were coming slowly across 
 the lawn. The woman's hard silvery laugh rang out and 
 jabbed into the tender hymn she was playing, and she 
 stopped short in the middle of a phrase, as if the poor 
 thing had been killed instantly. The organ seemed to hold 
 its breath, and the sudden silence almost made the little 
 church tremble. 
 
 She sat tense, listening, her fingers spread toward the 
 stops to push them in and close the organ and be gone 
 before they arrived if they contemplated coming in, for 
 she had no mind to talk to them just now. Then coldly, 
 harshly out from the cessation of great sound came Elder 
 Harricutt's voice : 
 
 But Brother Severn, supposing that it turns out that 
 Mark Carter is a murderer! You surely would not ap- 
 prove of keeping his name on the church roll then, would 
 you? It seems to me that in order to keep the garments 
 of the bride of Christ clean from soil we should anticipate 
 such a happening and show the world that we recognize 
 the character of this young man, and that we do not coun- 
 tenance such doings as she has been guilty of. Now, last 
 night, it is positively stated that he and this person they 
 call Cherry Fenning were at the Blue Duck — ! " 
 
 Crash! The bells! 
 
 Lynn had heard so much through the open session- 
 room door, had turned a quick frightened glance and 
 caught the glimpse of two people coming slowly in at 
 the open door of the church peering at her, had made one 
 quick motion which released the bells, and dashed into the 
 first notes that came to her mind, the old hymn, " Rock 
 of Ages, Cleft for Me, Let Me Hide Myself in Thee! " 
 But instead of playing it tenderly, grandly, as she usually 
 did, with all the sweetness of the years in which saints and 
 sinners have sung it and found refuge and comfort in 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE H3 
 
 its noble lines, she plunged into it with a mad rush as if 
 a soul in mortal peril were rushing to the Refuge before 
 the gates should be forever closed, or before the enemy- 
 should snatch it from the haven. The first note boomed 
 forth so sharply, so suddenly, that Elder Harricutt jumped 
 visibly from his chair, and his gossipy little details were 
 drowned in the great tone that struck. Behind his hand, 
 the troubled minister smiled in spite of his worries, to 
 think of the brave young soul behind those bells defending 
 her own. 
 
 Down the aisle just under the tower Opal Verrons 
 paused for an instant startled, thinking of prison walls, 
 and of the dead man lying at Saybrook Inn that night. 
 Suddenly the words of the telegram flashed across her: 
 ** What disposition do you want made of the body ? '' The 
 body! The body! Oh! Her eyes grew wide with horror. 
 She ought to answer that telegram and give them his 
 home address. But why should she ? What had she to do 
 y/^ith him now? Dead. He was Dead. He had passed 
 to another world. She shuddered. She looked around 
 and shrank back toward Shafton, but Laurie was wrapt in 
 the vision of Saint Cecilia seated at the organ under the 
 single electric light that the janitor had left burning over 
 her head. She resembled a saint with a halo more than 
 ever, and his easily excited senses were off chasing this 
 new flower of fancy. 
 
 Behind the organ pipes the session sat with the repu- 
 tation of a man in their ruthless fingers, tossing it back 
 and forth, and deliberating upon their own damning 
 phrases, while the minister sat with stern white face, and 
 sought to hold them from taking an action that might 
 brand a human soul forever. Marilyn needed no more 
 than those harsh words to know that her friend of the 
 years was being weighed in the balance. 
 
 Many a Sabbath afternoon in his childhood had Mark 
 
124 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Carter spent with her playing the stone block play of 
 David and Jonathan, and then eaten bread and milk and 
 apple sauce and sponge cake with her and heard the evening 
 prayers and songs and said good-night with a sweet 
 look of the Heavenly Father's child on his handsome little 
 face. Many a time as an older boy had he sung hymns 
 with her and listened to her read the Bible, and talked it 
 over with her afterward. He had not been like that when 
 she went away. Could he so have changed ? And Cherry 
 Penning! The little girl who had been but ten years 
 old when she went away to college, Cherry a precocious 
 little daughter of a tailor in Economy, who came over to 
 take music lessons from her. Cherry at the Blue Duck! 
 And with Mark ! Could it be true ? It could not be true ! 
 Not in the sense that Mr. Harricutt was trying to make 
 out. Mark might have been there, but never to do wrong. 
 The Blue Duck was a dance hall where liquor was sold on 
 the quiet, and where unspeakable things happened every 
 little while. Oh, it was outrageous! Her fingers made 
 the bells crash out her horror and disgust, and her appeal 
 to a higher power to right this dreadful wrong. And then 
 a hopeless sick feeling came over her, a whirling dizzy 
 sensation as if she were going to faint, although she never 
 fainted. She longed to drop down upon the keys and wail 
 her heart out, but she might not. Those awful words or 
 more like them were going on behind the organ there, and 
 the door was open — or even if the door was not open they 
 could be heard, for the room behind the organ was only 
 screened by a heavy curtain ! Those two strangers must 
 not hear ! At all costs they must not hear a thing like this ! 
 They did not know Mark Carter of course, but at any 
 rate they must not hear ! It was like having him exposed 
 in the public square for insult. So she played on, growing 
 steadier, and more controlled. If only she could know the 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 125 
 
 rest ! Or if only she might steal away then, and lie down 
 and bear it alone for a little ! So this was what had given 
 her father such a white drawn look during his sermon! 
 She had seen that hard old man go across the lawn to meet 
 him, and this was what he was bringing her father 
 to bear! 
 
 But the music itself and the words of the grand old 
 hymns she was playing gradually crept into her soul and 
 helped her, so that when the lame stranger made at last his 
 slow progress up to the choir loft and stood beside her she 
 was able to be coolly polite and explain briefly to him how 
 the organ controlled the action of the bells. 
 
 He listened to her, standing in open admiration, his 
 handsome careless face with its unmistakable look of self 
 indulgence was lighted up with genuine admiration for the 
 beautiful girl who could play so well, and could talk 
 equally well about her instrument, quite as if it were 
 nothing at all out of the ordinary run of things that she 
 were doing. 
 
 Opal, sitting in the front pew, where she had dropped 
 to wait till her escort should be satisfied, watched him at 
 first discontentedly, turning her eyes to the girl, half 
 wondering, half sneering, till all at once she percieved that 
 the girl was not hearing the hot words of admiration 
 poured upon her, was not impressed in the least by the man, 
 did not even seem to know who he was — or care. How 
 strange. What a very strange girl ! And really a beauti- 
 ful girl, too, she saw, now that her natural jealousy was 
 for the moment averted. How extremely amusing. 
 Laurie Shaft on interested in a girl who didn't care a row 
 of pins about him. What a shouting joke! She must 
 take it back to his friends at the shore, who would kid him 
 unmercifully about it. The thing had never been known 
 in his Hfe before. Perhaps, too, she would amuse herself 
 
126 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 a little, just as a pastime, by opening the eyes of this 
 village maiden to the opportunity she was missing? Why 
 not? Just on the verge of his departure perhaps. 
 
 And now, with tender touch, the music grew softer 
 and dropped into the sorrowful melody: 
 
 "The mistakes of my life have been many, 
 
 The sins of my heart have been more. 
 But I come as He has bidden. 
 
 And enter the open door. 
 I know I am weak and sinful, 
 
 It comes to me more and more 
 But since the dear Saviour has bid me come in 
 
 I'll enter the open door." 
 
 It was one of the songs they used to sing together, 
 Mark and she, on Sunday afternoons just as the sun was 
 dropping behind the western mountain, and Marilyn 
 played it till the bells seemed to echo out a heart's re- 
 pentance, and a great forgiveness to one far, far away. 
 
 At its first note the song was recognized by Mark 
 Carter as he drove along through the night and it thrilled 
 him to his sad sick soul. It was as if she had spoken to 
 him, had swept his heart strings with her white fingers, 
 had given him her sweet wistful smile, and was calling to 
 him through the dark. As they came in sight of the 
 church Billy pulled his cap a little lower and tried to keep 
 the choke out of his throat. Somehow the long hours 
 without sleep or food, the toil, the anxiety, the reaction, 
 had suddenly culminated in a great desire to cry. Yes, 
 cry just like a baby! Why, even when he was a baby he 
 ^didn't cry, and now here was this sickening gag in his 
 throat, this smarting in his eyelids, this sinking feeling. 
 He cast an eye at Cart. Why, Cart looked that way too. 
 Cart was feeling it also. Then he wasn't ashamed. He 
 gulped and smudged his dirty hand across his smarting 
 eyes, and got a long streak of wet on the back of his hand 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 1«7 
 
 which he hastily dried on the side of his sweater, and so 
 they sat, two still dark figures travelling along quietly 
 through the night, for Carter had shut off the engine and 
 let the natural incline of the road carry them down almost 
 in front of the church. 
 
 When they reached the church they saw a figure 
 standing with a Hfted hand. The janitor, ordered by 
 Harricutt to keep a watch. 
 
 The car stoopped at once 
 
 " Mark, they're wantin' ye in there," he said with a 
 flirt of his thumb over his shoulder and a furtive glance 
 behind, " Keep yer eyes peeled, fer old Cutter-up is bossin* 
 the job, an' you know him! " 
 
 Billy sat up and took notice. 
 
 Mark got out with a grave old look upon his face, and 
 started up the walk. Billy made a move to follow, hesi^ 
 tated, drew back, held himself in readiness and watched, 
 all his boy instincts and prejudices keen on the trail again. 
 
 And so to the old sad song of his mistakes and sins 
 Mark entered the door of the sessions room where once he 
 and Marilyn had gone one happy summer morning to 
 meet the session and confess their faith in Christ. 
 
 As he had passed the window by the organ loft he gave 
 one look up where Lynn's face was framed in the ivy of 
 the window under the light. He drank in the sight 
 hungrily. But the next instant he caught the vision of 
 the young stranger standing with admiring eyes, saw 
 Marilyn turn and look up and answer him, but could not 
 see how far away and sad her eyes. 
 
 And with this shadow upon his heart he passed in to 
 that waiting group of hard critical men, with the white 
 faced minister in their midst, and stood to meet 
 their challenge. 
 
XI 
 
 The janitor had gone in to put the church in order f o?^ 
 the night and hover about to find out what was going on 
 in the session room. He never told but he hked to know. 
 The moon had gone under a cloud. Billy slipped out of 
 the car, and slid up the side path like a wraith, his tired 
 legs seeming to gather new vigor with the need. He gavt 
 a glance of content up to the window. He was glad the 
 bells were ringing, and that she was there. He wished 
 she knew what peril their friend had been in last night^i 
 and how he was rescued and safe. 
 
 And then he sighted the stranger! 
 
 Who was that guy! Some sissy, that was sure! 
 Aw gee! 
 
 He slid into the shadow out of sight and flattened 
 himself against the wall with an attentive ear to the door 
 of the session room. He raised himself by chinning up to 
 the window ledge and got a bird's eye view of the situation 
 at a glance. Aw Gee! That old Hair-cut! He wished 
 the bells would stop. That sissy in there with her, and 
 all these here with Cart, and no telling what's up next? 
 Aw gee! Life was jest one — ! He slimiped his back to the 
 wall and faced the parsonage. Say, what were those two 
 cars over there in front of the parsonage? Say! That 
 must be the guy, the rich guy ! Aw gee ! In there with her! 
 If he only hadn't put up that detour ! Pat knew what he 
 was about after all, a little sissy guy like that — ! Aw, 
 gee! But two cars! What did two cars mean? 
 
 And over on the parsonage piazza, at the far end in 
 
 the shelter of the vines sat Aunt Saxon in the dark crying. 
 
 Beside her was Mrs. Severn with her hand on the 
 
 woman's shoulder talking in her gentle steady voice. 
 
 128 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 129 
 
 Everybody loved the minister's wife just as much as they 
 loved the minister: 
 
 " Yes, he went away on his wheel last night just after 
 dark," she sobbed. " Yes ! he came home after the base- 
 ball game, and he made a great fuss gettin' some paint and 
 brushes and contrapshions fixed on his old bicycle, and 
 then he, went off. Oh, he usually goes off awhile every 
 night. I can't seem to stop him. I've tried everything 
 short of lockin' him out. I reckon if I did he'd never come 
 back, an' I can't seem to bring myself to lock out my 
 sister's baby — ! " 
 
 " Of course not! " said Mrs. Severn tenderly. 
 
 '* Well, he stuck his head back in the door this time, 
 an' he said mebbe he wouldn't be back till mornin', but 
 Ve'd be back all right for Sunday School. That's one 
 thing, Mrs. Severn," she lifted her tear stained face, 
 " That's one thing he does like — his Sunday School, 
 Billy does, and I'm that glad! Sometimes I just sit down 
 an' cry about it I'm so glad. You know awhile back when 
 Miss Lynn was off to college that Mr. Harricutt had the 
 boys' class, an' I couldn't get him to go anyhow. Why, 
 once I offered to pay him so he could save fer a baseball 
 bat if he'd go, but do you know he said he'd rather go 
 without baseball bats fer ever than go listen to that old — • 
 Well, Mrs. Severn, I won't repeat what he said. It wasn't 
 respectful, not to an elder you know. But Miss Lynn, 
 why he just worships, an' anything she says he does. But 
 that's one thing worries me, Mrs. Severn, he didn't come 
 back for her even! He said he'd be back fer Sunday 
 School, an' he hasn't come back yet ! " 
 
 " Who does he go with most. Miss Saxon? Let's try 
 to think where he might be. Perhaps we could call up 
 some one and find out where he is." 
 
 " Well, I tell you," wailed the Aunt, '' That's just it. 
 There's just one person he likes as well, or mebbe better'n 
 
 9 
 
130 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Miss Mary Lynn, an* that's Mark Carter! Mrs. Severn 
 I'm just afraid he's gone off with Mark Carter ! " she 
 lowered her voice to a sepulchral whisper, " And Mrs. 
 Severn, they do say that Mark is real wild! " 
 
 Mrs. Severn sat up a little straighter and put a trifle of 
 assurance into her voice, or was it aloofness ? : 
 
 " Oh, Miss Saxon ! " she said earnestly, " I don't think 
 you ought to feel that way about Mark. I've known him 
 since he waS' a mere baby, and I've always loved him. I 
 don't believe Mark will ever do Billy any harm. He's 
 a boy with a strong character. He may do things that 
 people don't understand, but I'd trust him to the limit 1 " 
 
 She was speaking eagerly, earnestly, in the words that 
 her husband had used to her a few days before, and she 
 knew as she said it that she believed it was all true. It 
 gave her a great comfort to know that she believed it was 
 true. She loved Mark almost as though he were her own. 
 
 Miss Saxon looked up with a sigh and mopped her pink 
 wet face: 
 
 " Well, I certainly am relieved to hear you say that ! 
 Billy thinks the sun rises and sets in * Cart,' as he calls 
 him. I guess if Cart should call him he'd go to the ends 
 of the earth with him. I know / couldn't stop him. But 
 you see Mrs. Severn, I oughtn't to have to bring up chil- 
 dren, especially boys? Billy always was headstrong, and 
 he's getting worse every day." 
 
 *'rm sure you do your best. Miss Saxon, and I'm sure 
 Billy will turn out a fine man some day. My Lynn thinks 
 a great deal of him. She feels he's growing very thought- 
 ful and manly :" 
 
 "Does she now?" the tired pink face was lifted 
 damply with a ray of cheer. 
 
 Then the telephone bell rang. Mrs. Severn rose and 
 excused herself to answer it : 
 
 "Yes? Yes, Mrs. Carter. Mrs. Severn is speaking. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 131 
 
 Is anything the matter ? Your voice sounds troubled. Oh, 
 Mrs. Carter! I'm so sorry, but I'm sure you can trust 
 Mark. He's a man you know and he's always been an 
 unusually dependable boy, especially to us who know him 
 well. He'll come back all right. What? Oh, Mrs. 
 Carter! No, I haven't heard any such reports, but I'm sure 
 they're just gossip. You know how people will talk. 
 What do you say? They phoned you from Economy? 
 Who? The police? They asked for Mark? Well, I 
 wouldn't let that worry you. Mark always was helpful 
 to the police in finding people, or going with them after a 
 lost car, you know. I wouldn't worry. Who? Billy? 
 Billy Gaston? Oh, you saw Billy this morning? Well, 
 that's good. His aunt has worried all day about him. I'll 
 tell her. Who ? A sick man on the mountain ? Well, now 
 Mrs. Carter, don't you know Mark always was doing 
 things for people in trouble ? He'll come home safely, but 
 of course we'll just turn the earth upside down to find him 
 for we are not going to let you and Miss Saxon worry 
 any longer. Just you wait till Mr. Severn gets back. He's 
 in a session meeting and it oughtn't to last long, it was 
 just a special meeting called hurriedly. He'll come right 
 over as soon as it's out and see what he can do to help. 
 Yes, of course he will. No don't bother to thank me. He 
 would want to of course. Good-bye ! " 
 
 She came hopefully out to the piazza to Miss Saxon. 
 But just at that instant Billy's aunt jumped to her feet, her 
 eyes large with excitement, and pointed toward the open 
 session door, where framed against the light stood Mark 
 Carter, straight and tall facing the circle of men, and 
 behind him, out in the dark, with only his swaggy old 
 sweater shoulder and the visor of his floppy old cap show- 
 ing around the door jamb lurked Billy. 
 
 " There ! There ! " Whispered Mrs. Severn, patting 
 her shoulder. " I told you he'd come back all right. Now, 
 
132 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 don't you worry about it, and don't you scold him. Just 
 go home and get him some supper. He'll be likely very 
 hungry, and then get him to go right to bed. Wait till 
 to-morrow to settle up. Miss Saxon, it's always better, 
 then we have clearer judgment and are not nearly so 
 likely to lose our tempers and say the wrong thing." 
 
 The bells had stopped ringing, and Marilyn had closed 
 the organ and drawn the window shut. The two 
 strangers were trailing slowly across the lawn, the lady 
 laughing loudly. Miss Saxon eyed them with the kind of 
 fascination a wild rabbit has for a strange dog, pressed 
 the hand of the minister's wife with a fervent little 
 squeeze, and scurried away into the dark street. Marilyn 
 lingered silently on the front steps after the janitor had 
 locked the door inside and gone back to the session room. 
 
 In the session room Mark Carter, white with the ex- 
 periences of the night and day, yet alert, stern, questioning, 
 stood looking from one man to another, keenly, uncom- 
 promisingly. This was a man whom any would notice in 
 a crowd. Character, physical perfection, strength of will 
 all combined to make him stand out from other men. And 
 over it all, like a fire from within there played an over- 
 whelming sadness that had a transparent kind of refining 
 effect, as if a spirit dwelt there who by sheer force of will 
 went on in the face of utter hopelessness. 
 
 The stillness in the session room was tense as the self 
 appointed jury faced their victim and tried to look him 
 down; then slowly recognized something that made them 
 uneasy, and one by one each pair of eyes save two, were 
 vanquished and turned embarrassedly away, or sought the 
 pattern of the mossy carpet. 
 
 Those two pairs of eyes that were friendly Mark 
 found out at once, and it was as if he embraced them with 
 his own. His friends — Duncannon and the minister ! He 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 1S3 
 
 sKot a grateful glance at them and faced the others down, 
 but opened not his lips. 
 
 At last Harricutt, his chief accuser, mustered up his 
 sharp little eyes again from under the overhanging eaves 
 of rough gray brow, and shot out a disagreeable under lip : 
 
 " We have sent for you, here, to-night, Mark Carter," 
 he began slowly, impressively, raising a loose jointed long 
 forefinger accusingly, as he gained courage, " to inquire 
 concerning the incriminating reports that are in circulation 
 with regard to your character." 
 
 Mark turned his hard eyes toward the elder, and 
 seemed to congeal into something inflexible, impenetrable, 
 as if he had suddenly let down a cold sheet iron door be- 
 tween his soul and them, against which the words, like shot 
 or pebbles, rattled sharp and unharming and fell in a 
 shower at the feet of the speaker. There was something 
 about his bearing that became a prince or president, and 
 always made a fault finder feel small and inadequate. The 
 minister felt his heart throb with a thrill of pride in the 
 boy as he stood there just with his presence hurling back 
 the suspicions that had met to undo him. His stern young 
 face was like a mask of something that had once been 
 beautiful with life, whose utter sorrow and hopelessness 
 pierced one at the sight. And so he stood and looked at 
 Elder Harricutt, who shot him one glance and then looking 
 down began to fiddle with his watch chain, halting in 
 his speech: 
 
 " They say — " he began again with a hiss, as he lifted 
 his eyes, strong in the consciousness that he was not 
 alone in his accusation, — " They say — .' '' 
 
 " Please leave what they say out of the question, Mr. 
 Harricutt. What do you say? " Mark's voice was cold, 
 incisive, there was nothing quailing in his tone. 
 
 " Young man, we can't leave what they say out of 
 the question ! It plays a very important part in the repu- 
 
134 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 tation of the Church of Christ of which you are an un- 
 worthy part," shot back the hard old man, " We are here 
 to know what you have to say concerning the things that 
 are being said openly about you." 
 
 "A man does not always know what is being said 
 about him, Mr. Harricutt." Still that hard cold voice, 
 still indifferent to the main issue, and ready to fight it. 
 
 " A man ought to ! " snapped Harricutt impatiently. 
 
 Suddenly, without warning, the mask lifted, the curve 
 of the lips drew up at the left corner revealing the row of 
 even white teeth, and a twinkle at the corners of the gray, 
 thoughtful eyes, giving in a flash a vision of the merry 
 mischief -loving boy he had been, and his whole coun- 
 tenance was lit. Mark was never so attractive as when 
 smiling. It brought out the lovingness of his eyes, and 
 took away the hard oldness of his finely cut features. 
 
 " Mr. Harricutt, I have often wondered if you knew^ 
 all that people say about you?" 
 
 ''WHAT?" 
 
 There was sudden stir in the session room. The elders 
 moved their chairs with a swishing sound, cleared their 
 throats hastily, and put sudden hands up to hide furtive 
 smiles. Elder Duncannon grinned broadly, there was a 
 twinkle in even the minister's eyes, and outside the door 
 Billy manfully stifled a snicker. Elder Harricutt shot his 
 angry little eyes around in the mirthful atmosphere, start- 
 ing at Mark's quizzical smile, and going around the uneasy 
 group of men, back to Mark again. But the smile was 
 gone ! One could hardly be sure it had been there at all. 
 Mark was hard cold steel again, a blank wall, impenetrable. 
 There was no sign that the young man intended to repeat 
 the mocking offense. 
 
 " Young man ! This is no time for levity ! " he roared 
 forth menacingly. 
 
 " You are on the verge of being arrested for murder ! 
 Did you know it ? " 
 
.^THE CITY OF FIRE 135 
 
 The minister watching, thought he saw a quiver go 
 through the steady eyes, a slight contracting of the pupil, 
 a hardening of the sensitive mouth, that was all. The boy 
 stood unflinching, and spoke with steady lips : 
 
 " I did not." 
 
 " Well, you are ! " reiterated the elder, " And even if 
 the man doesn't die, there is plenty else. Answer me this 
 question. It's no use beating around the bush. Where 
 were you at three o'clock this morning? " 
 
 The answer came without hesitation, steadily, frankly : 
 
 " On Stark's Mountain, as nearly as I can make out." 
 
 Billy held his breath and wondered what was coming 
 next. He caught his hands on the window ledge and 
 chinned himself again, his eyes and the fringe of his dis- 
 hevelled brown hair appearing above the window sill, but 
 the startled session was not looking out the window just 
 then. Mr. Harricutt looked slightly put out. Stark's 
 Mountain had nothing to do with this matter, and the 
 young man was probably trying to prove an alibi. He sat 
 up jerkily and placed his elbows on the chair arms, touch- 
 ing the tips of his long bony fingers, fitting them together 
 carefully and speaking in aggravated detached syllables in 
 rhythm with the movement of his fingers. 
 
 '* Young — ^man ! An — swer me ! — Ware — you — or 
 ware you — not — at — ^the — Blue — Duck — Tavern — last 
 — evening? " 
 
 Blue and red lights seemed to flicker in the cold steel 
 eyes of the young man. 
 
 " I was! '' 
 
 "A — hemmm!" The elder glanced around tri- 
 umphantly, and went on with the examination : 
 
 " Well, — young man! — Ware you — or — ^ware you 
 not — ac — companied — by a young wumman — of — no- 
 torious — I may say — infamous character? In other words 
 — a young girl — commonly called — Cherry? Cherry 
 Penning I believe is her whole name. Ware you with her ?" 
 
136 THE CITY OF FIEE 
 
 Mark's face was set, his eyes were glaring. The min- 
 ister felt that if Harricutt had dared look up he would 
 almost be afraid, now. 
 
 But after an instant's hesitation when it almost looked 
 as if Mark were struggling with desire to administer cor- 
 poral punishment to the little old bigot, he lifted his head 
 defiantly and replied in hard tones as before : 
 
 " There ! " said Elder Harricutt, wetting his lips and 
 smiling fiendishly around the group, " There ! Didn't I 
 tell you ?" 
 
 " May I inquire," asked Mark startlingly, " What busi- 
 ness of yours it is ? " 
 
 Harricutt bristled. 
 
 "What business? What business f'^ he repeated 
 severely, " Why, this business, young man. Your name is 
 on our church roll as a member in good and regular 
 standing! For sometime past you have been dragging 
 the name of our Lord and Saviour in the dust of dishonor 
 by your goings on. It is our responsibility as elders of this 
 church to see that this goes on no longer." 
 
 " I see ! " said Mark, " I haven't heard from any of the 
 other elders on the subject, but assuming that you are all 
 of one mind — " he swept the room with his glance, 
 omitting the stricken faces of the minister and Mr. 
 Duncannon, " I will relieve you of further responsibility 
 in the matter by asking you to strike my name from the 
 roll at once." 
 
 He was turning, his look of white still scorn fell upon 
 them like fire that scorches. Outside the door Billy, for- 
 getful that he might be seen, was peering in, his brows 
 down in deep scawls, his lower jaw protruded, his grimy 
 fists clenched. A fraction of a second longer and Billy 
 would butt into the session like some mad young goat. 
 Respect for the session? Not he! They were bullying 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 137 
 
 his idol, Cart, who had already gone through death and 
 still lived! They should see! Aw Gee! 
 
 But a diversion occurred just in the nick of time. It 
 was Joyce, the new member, the owner of the canneries, 
 who had just built a new house with electric appliances, 
 and owned the best car in town. He was a stickler for 
 proprieties, but he was a great admirer of the minister, 
 and he had been watching Mr. Severn's face. Also, he 
 had watched Mark's. 
 
 "Now, now, now, young brother!" he said sooth- 
 ingly, rising in his nice pleasant gentlemanly way, '* don't 
 be hasty! This can all be adjusted I am sure if we fully 
 understand one another. I am a comparative stranger 
 here I know, but I would suggest taking this thing 
 quietly and giving Mr. Carter a chance to explain himself. 
 You must own. Brother Carter, that we had some reason 
 to be anxious. You know, the Bible tells us to avoid even 
 the appearance of evil." 
 
 Mark turned with perfect courtesy to this new voice : 
 
 " The Bible also tells us not to judge one another ! " he 
 replied quickly. " Mr. Joyce, you are a stranger here, but 
 I am not. They have known me since childhood. Also 
 there are some items that might be of interest to you. 
 Cherry Penning five years ago was a little girl in this 
 Sunday School. She stood up in that pulpit out there one 
 Children's Sunday and sang in a sweet little voice, 7^sus 
 loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so/ She was an 
 innocent little child then, and everybody praised her. 
 Now, because she has been talked about you are all ready 
 to condemn her. And who is going to help her ? I tell you 
 if that is the kind of Christ you have, and the kind of 
 Bible you are following I want no more of it and I am 
 ready to have my name taken off the roll at once." 
 
 Harricutt rose in his excitement pointing his long- 
 flapping forefinger : 
 
138 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 "You see, gentlemen, you see! He defies us! He 
 goes. farther ! He defies his God ! '* 
 
 Suddenly the minister rose with uplifted hand, and 
 the voice that never failed to command attention, spoke : 
 
 "Let us pray I" 
 
 With sudden startled indrawing of breath, and half 
 obedient bowing of the heads, the elders paused, standing 
 or sitting as they were, and Mark with high defiant head 
 stood looking straight at his old friend. 
 
 " Oh, God, our Father, O Jesus Christ our Saviour," 
 prayed the minister in a voice that showed he felt the 
 Presence near, " Save us in this trying moment from com- 
 mitting further sin. Give us Thy wisdom, and Thy loving- 
 kindness. Show us that only he that is without sin among 
 us may cast the first stone. Put thy love about us all. We 
 are all Thy children. Amen." 
 
 Into the silence that followed this prayer his voice con- 
 tinued quietly : 
 
 " I will ask Mr. Harricutt to take the chair for a 
 moment. I would like to make a motion." 
 
 The elders looked abashed. 
 
 " Why, — I, — " began Harricutt, and then saw there 
 was nothing else for him to do, and stepped excitedly over 
 to the minister's seat behind the table, and sank reluctantly 
 down, trying to think how he could best make use of his 
 present position to further his side of the question. 
 
 The minister was still standing, seeming to hold within 
 his gaze the eyes of every one in the room including Mark. 
 
 " I wish to make a motion," said the minister, "I move 
 that we have a rising vote, expressi*ng our utmost confi- 
 dence in Mr. Carter, and leaving it to his discretion to ex- 
 plain his conduct or not as he pleases ! I have known this 
 dear young brother since he was a boy, and I would trust 
 him always, anywhere, with anything ! " 
 
 A wonderful shiny look of startled wonder, and deep 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 139 
 
 joy came into the eyes of the young man, followed by a 
 stabbing cloud of anguish, and then the hard controlled 
 face once more, with the exception of a certain tenderness 
 as he looked toward the minister. 
 
 "Mr. Duncannon, will you second my motion?" 
 finished Severn. 
 
 The long gaunt dark elder was on his feet instantly : 
 ** Sure, Brother Severn, I second that motion. If you 
 hadn't got ahead of me I'd have firsted it myself. I know 
 Mark. He's all right! " and he put out a hairy hand and 
 grasped Mark's young strong fingers, that gripped 
 his warmly. 
 
 Harricutt was on his feet, tapping on the table with his 
 pencil : " I think this motion is out of order," he cried 
 excitedly — but no one listened, and the minister said 
 calmly, " Will the chair put the question?" 
 
 Baffled, angry, bitter, the old stickler went through the 
 hated words : " It is moved and seconded that we express 
 our confidence — " 
 
 " Utmost confidence. Brother Harricutt — " broke in 
 the minister's voice. " The red came up in the elder's face, 
 but he choked out the words " utmost confidence," on 
 through the whole motion, and by the time it was out four 
 elders were on their feet, Duncannon and Joyce first, thank 
 God, Gibson, more slowly. Fowler pulled up by the strong 
 wiry hand of Duncannon who sat next him. 
 
 " Stop ! " suddenly spoke Mark's clear incisive voice, 
 " I cannot let you do this. I deeply appreciate the confi- 
 dence of Mr. Severn and Mr. Duncannon," he paused 
 looking straight into the eyes of the new elder and added — 
 " and Mr. Joyce, who does not know me. But I am not 
 worthy of so deep a trust. I ask you to remove my name 
 from your church roll that in future my actions shall not 
 be your responsibility! " With that he gave one lingering 
 tender look toward the minister, pressed hard the hairy 
 
140 THE CITY OF FIEE 
 
 hand of the old Scotch elder, and went out of the room be- 
 fore anyone realized he was going. 
 
 Billy, with a gasp, and a look after his beloved idol, 
 hesitated, then pulled himself together and made a dash 
 into the session room, like a catapult landing straight in the 
 spot where Mark had stood, but ignoring all the rest he 
 looked up at the minister and spoke rapidly : 
 
 ** Mr. Severn, please sir. Mark was with me last night 
 from twelve o'clock on. Me an' him passed the Pleasant 
 view Station in a car going over to Stark's Mountain, just 
 as the bells was ringing over here fer midnight, cause I 
 counted 'em, and Mark was over to Stark's Mountain till 
 most noon to-day, and I come home with him ! " 
 
 The minister's face was blazing with glory, and old 
 Duncannon patted Billy on the shoulder, and beamed, but 
 Harricutt arose with menace in his eye and advanced on 
 the young intruder. However, before anyone could do 
 anything about it a strong firm hand reached out from the 
 doorway and plucked Billy by the collar : 
 
 " That'll do. Kid, Keep your mouth shut and don't say 
 another word ! " It was Mark and he promptly removed 
 Billy from the picture. 
 
 " I move we adjourn," said Elder Duncannon, " but 
 the minister did not even wait for the motion to be sec- 
 onded. He followed Mark out into the moonlight, and 
 drew him, Billy and all, across the lawn toward the par- 
 sonage, one arm thrown lovingly across Mark's shoulder. 
 He had forgotten entirely the two guests parked on the 
 piazza smoking cigarettes !. 
 
XII 
 
 As the shades of evening had drawn down two figures 
 that had been lurking all day in the fastnesses of Lone 
 Valley over beyond the state Highway, stole forth and 
 crept sealthily under cover to Stark Mountain. 
 
 A long time they lingered in the edge of the woods till 
 the dark was velvet black around them, before the moon 
 arose. Then slowly, cautiously they drew near the haunted 
 house, observing it long and silently from every possible 
 angle, till satisfied that no enemy was about. Yet taking 
 no chances even then, the taller one crept forth from 
 shelter while the other watched. So stealthily he went that 
 even his companion heard no stir. 
 
 It was some ten minutes that Shorty waited there in 
 the bushes scarcely daring to breathe, while Link painfully 
 quiet, inch by inch encircled the house, and listened, try- 
 ing the front door first and finding it fast ; softly testing 
 the cellar windows one by one, beginning from the eastern 
 end, going toward the front first, and so missing the 
 window by which Billy had entered. A hundred times his 
 operation was halted by the sound of a rat scuttling across 
 the floor, or racketing in the wall, but the hollow echoes 
 assured him over and over again that the house was not 
 occupied, at least not by anyone awake and in his senses. 
 Link had been in the business so long that he " felt ^' when 
 there was an enemy near. That was v/hat vexed him now. 
 He had " felt '* that morning that someone was near, but 
 he had laid it to nerves and the reported ghost, and had 
 not heeded his trained faculties. He was back now doubly 
 alert to discover the cause and make good his failure in 
 the morning. He had undertaken to look after this guy 
 and see this job through and there was big money in it. He 
 
 141 
 
142 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 was heavily armed and prepared for any reasonable sur- 
 prise. He meant to get this matter straight before morning. 
 So, feeling his way along in the blackness, listening, halt- 
 ing at every moment with bated breath, he came at last to 
 the back door, and drawing himself up to the steps, took 
 the knob in his hand and turned it. To his surprise it yielded 
 to his touch, and the door came open. And yet it was some 
 seconds of tense listening before he let himself down to 
 the ground again, and with his hand in the grass let out a 
 tiny winking flashlight, no more than a firefly would 
 flicker, and out again. 
 
 This was answered by a wink from the bushes, as if 
 the same firefly or its mate might be glowing, and after an 
 instant another wink from the ground near the house. 
 Slowly Shorty arrived without noise, his big bulk muflling 
 in fat the muscles of velvet. It was incredible how light 
 his step could be — professionally. It was as if he had been 
 wafted there like down. Silently still and without com- 
 munication the two drifted into the open door, sent a 
 searching glowworm ahead into the crannies of the dusty, 
 musty kitchen, surprising a mouse that had stolen forth 
 domestically. The door being shut and fastened cautiously, 
 the key in Link's pocket, they drifted through the swing 
 door, as air might have circulated, identifying the mouse's 
 scuttle, the rattle of a rat among the loose coal in the cellar 
 bin, the throaty chirp of a cricket outside in the grass, and 
 drifting on. 
 
 Thus they searched the lower floor, even as Billy had 
 done, though more thoroughly, and mounted to the landing 
 above, here they divided. Shorty at watch in the hall, while 
 Link went to the front rooms first and searched each 
 hastily, not omitting closets, ending at the back room where 
 the prisoner had been. 
 
 " He's gone ! " said Link in a hoarse whisper, speaking 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 143 
 
 for the first time after a hasty scanning of the shad- 
 owy place. 
 
 Shorty took the precaution to turn the key of the door 
 leading to the third story before he entered to investigate, 
 
 " Do you think it was him fired that shot ? " 
 
 Link shook his head. 
 
 "Couldn't! I had him lifted up in my arms and was 
 just handing him some more dope when the sound come. 
 It seemed it was out front. It must a been somebody in 
 the front room. Sure ! That guy never coulda got them 
 bracelets off hisself . Looka here ! Them was filed off ! " 
 They stood with the flash light between them examining 
 the handcuffs, and then turned their attention to the rest 
 of the room, studying the bed and floors carefully for any 
 traces of the possible assistant to the runaway but finding 
 none. Then they went in the front room again, and this 
 time discovered the lowered window and the little half 
 moon aperture in the shutter. 
 
 "How do you figger it?" asked Shorty turning a 
 ghastly face toward Link in the plaided darkness of the 
 flash light. 
 
 " Pat ! " said Link laconically. 
 
 "Pat?" 
 
 " Pat. He's yella ! I told Sam, but he would have him ! 
 I ain*t sure but Sam's yella ! I think I'm about done with 
 this outfit ! " 
 
 " But Pat? What would he do it for? " 
 
 " Coin to run the whole game hisself, perhaps, or then 
 again he might be in with Sam, so they won't have to diwy 
 up. He could say we hadn't kept out contrac' you know, 
 runnin' away like that." 
 
 "We ain't to blame. How'd we know it want the^ 
 police ? We had a mighty close shave over that state line 
 this A.M." 
 
 "Well, that's what he could say, an' refuse to diwy 
 
144 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 up. But b'lieve me, Shorty ! Nobody's goin' to do me dirty 
 like that! Somebody's been doing us dirty, you and me, 
 and it's good and right we beat 'em to it." 
 
 " Yes, but how ya goin' to do it? " 
 
 "I ain't sure yet, but I'm goin' to do it. The first 
 thing, Shorty, is fer us to get outta here mighty good an' 
 quick. Ef anybody's watchin' round, we better not be 
 here. We'll fade away. See?" 
 
 Without flash or noise they faded, going cautiously out 
 by the front door this time and disappearing into the dark 
 of the woods just as the horizon over Lone Valley began ta 
 show luminous in the path of the oncoming moon. 
 
 They walked several miles, stealthily, and a mile or two 
 more naturally, before they ventured on a word, and then 
 Shorty impatiently : 
 
 " I don't see what you can do. Whattirya goin' ta do?" 
 
 " Don't get excited. Shorty, I see my way out," said 
 Link afl^ably, " I didn't come off here half cocked. I inves- 
 tigated before I took on the job." 
 
 "Whaddaya mean?" 
 
 "Well, I just looked up the parties in the blue book 
 before I come off. Didn't have much time, but I just 
 looked 'em up. Great thing that blue book. Gives ya 
 lots of information. Then I got another thing, a maga- 
 zine I always buy and keep on hand. It's called The 
 House Lovely, an' it has all these grand gentlemen's places 
 put down in pictures, with plans and everything. It's real 
 handy when you wantta find out how to visit 'em sort of 
 intimate like, and it kind of broadens yer mind. It's a real 
 pity you never learned to read. Shorty. There's nothing 
 like it fer getting valuable information. I read a lot and 
 I always remember anything that's worth while." 
 
 *T don't see how that's doin' us any good now," 
 growled Shorty. 
 
 " Don't get hasty, Shorty, I'm comin' to it. You see 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 145 
 
 these here Shaftons have been on my mind fer some while 
 back. I make it a point to know about guys Hke that. I 
 read the society columns and keep posted about little de- 
 tails. It pays, Shorty. Now see ! I happen to know that 
 these here Shaftons have several summer homes, one in 
 the mountains, one at the seashore, one up at an island 
 out in the ocean, and a fafm down in Jersey, where they 
 go at Christmas fer the holidays sometimes. Well, just 
 now I happen to know Mrs. Shafton — that's this guy's 
 mother, is down at the Jersey house all alone with the 
 servants. Real handy fer our purposes, ain't it? Not so 
 far we can't get there by mornin' if we half try, and the 
 old man is off out West on a business trip." 
 
 " What you gonta do? " asked Shorty. 
 
 " Well, I haven't exactly got it all doped out yet, but 
 I reckon our business is with the old lady. Let's beat it as 
 fast as we can to a trolley and dope it out as we go. You 
 see this here old woman is nuts on her son, and she's lousy 
 with money and don't care how she spends it, so her baby 
 boy is pleased. Now, I figger if we could come off with 
 five thousand apiece, you'n I we'd be doin' a good night's 
 work and no mistake. Whaddayou say? " 
 
 " Sure thing," grumped Shorty unbelievingly. 
 
 ** You see," continued Link, " We're in bad, this guy 
 escaping and all, and like as not Pat swiping all the boodle 
 and layin' the blame onto us. You can't tell what might 
 happen with Pat an' Sam, the dirty devils. They might 
 even let it come to a trial and testify against us. Sam has 
 it in fer me an' you this long time, 'count of that last pretty 
 little safe blow-out that didn't materialize. See ? " 
 
 Shorty growled gloomily. 
 
 " Now on the other hand if we can step in before it is 
 too late, or before the news of his havin' escaped gets to 
 his fond parents, and get in our little work, we might at 
 least make expenses out of it and beat it out of the country 
 
 10 
 
146 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 fer a while. I been thinkin' of South America fer my 
 health fer some time past. How ^bout you ?" 
 " Suits me. But how you gonta work it ? " 
 " Well, you see I know a little bit about wimmen. An' 
 I seen this woman oncet. If she was one of these here new- 
 fangled political kind you couldn't do nothin* with her, 
 she'd be onta you in no time an* have you up before the 
 supreme court 'fore she goddone, but this here woman is 
 one o' them old fashioned, useless kind that's afraid of 
 everything and cries easy, and gets scairt at her shadder. 
 I seen her on the board walk once with her husband, took 
 notice to her, thought I might need it sometime. She 
 has gray hair but she ain't never growed up. She was 
 ridin' in a wheeled chair, an' him walkin' beside her an' 
 a man behind pushin' her, an' a maid comin' along with 
 a fur coat. She never done a thing fer herself, not even 
 think, an' that's the kind you can put anything over on 
 from a teaparty to a blizzard without her suspectin' a 
 thing. Shorty, I'm gonta make up to Mrs. Shafton 
 an' see what I can get out of her. But we gotta get a trol- 
 ley line down to Unity an' catch that evenin' train. See? " 
 About half-past ten that night, with the moon at full sail. 
 Shorty and Link, keeping the shady side of the street, 
 slunk into a Httle obscure, and as yet unsuppressed saloon 
 in a back street in a dirty little manufacturing city not 
 many miles from Unity. Just off the side entrance was a 
 back hall in which lurked a dark smelly little telephone 
 booth under a staircase, too far removed from the noisy 
 crowd that frequented the place to be heard. Here Link 
 took instant refuge with Shorty bulking largely in front 
 of the door, smoking a thin black twisted cigar, and look- 
 ing anything but happy. He had figured greatly on getting 
 his share of a million, and now at a single shot he had let 
 it go through his fingers. There were reasons why he 
 needed that part of a million at once. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 147 
 
 Link had all sorts of nerve. He called up the Shafton 
 home in New Jersey and jollied the maid, calling her 
 girlie, and saying he was in the employ of young Laurie 
 Shafton and had a special private message from the young 
 man to his mother. It was not long before a peevish 
 elderly voice in his ear said : 
 
 '' Well? Mrs. Shafton at the phone." 
 
 And Link sailed in: 
 
 " Mrs. Shafton, I got a message from your son, a very 
 private message. He said, would you please send your 
 maid out of the room first before I told you? " 
 
 She seemed annoyed and hesitant at this, but 
 finally complied : 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Shafton, you don't need to get worried at 
 what I'm tellin' you. Your son ain't dead, nor nothing 
 like that you know, but he's just met with a little accident. 
 No, now, wait a minute till I tell you. You don't need to 
 get excited ner nothing. If you just keep calm an' do as I 
 tell you it'll all come out right in the end — " 
 
 He could tell by her voice that she was much excited 
 and that so far his scheme was working well. If he could 
 only pull the rest off! He winked one eye jauntily at 
 Shorty who was standing wide-mouthed, bulging-eyed 
 listening, and went on 
 
 "No, he didn't have no collision, ma'am, he just got 
 kidnapped you see. And not wanting to get found out, 
 natchelly the kidnappers give him a little dope to keep his 
 mouth shut f er a while. What's that ? Who'm I ? Well, 
 now, Mrs. Shafton, that's tellin,' ain't it? I wouldn't want 
 to go so far as that 'thout I was sure of your cooperation. 
 What's that ? You'll reward me ? Oh, thanks, that's what 
 I was figgering about. You see I'm in rather of a hole 
 myself. That's what. You see, much against my will 
 I was one of the kidnappers myself ma'am. Yes ma'am, 
 much against my will ! You see I'm a farmer's son myself. 
 
148 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 good an' honest and respectable. Never had nothin' to do 
 with such doin's in my life, my word of honor, lady. But 
 I come to town just to look around an' have a bit of fun 
 an' I got in with a bad lot, an' they pract'cally compelled 
 me to assist 'em in this here kidnappin.' Oh, I didn't do 
 nothin', jest helped to carry him — Oh, ma'am, it ain't that 
 bad. He's still livin' an' he'll be awwright if you just he'p 
 me to get him away 'thout their knowin'. Yes ma'am. I'm 
 honest. I'm offerin' to help you. You see, when I see him 
 layin' there on the bed — Oh, yes, he's on a bed, I ain't 
 sayin' how comfortable it is, but it's a bed, an' he ain't 
 sufferin' now, — but of course if they don't get what they 
 want they may put him to the torture jest to get more 
 outta you all — No, ma'am don't scream that way ur I'll 
 have to hang up. This is on the q. t. you know. What ? 
 You don't understand? Why, I was sayin' you mustn't 
 let a soul know what's happened. Not a soul. If it should 
 get out an' his kidnappers should find it out they'd kill 
 him easy as a fly an' no mistake. You gotta go slow on 
 this. Yes, lady, they're desperate characters, Fm sayin' 
 it! an' the sooner you get your son outta their ban's the 
 better fer his future, lady, fer even if he should escape 
 after they'd been found out they'd probably lame him fer 
 life or put out his eyes or some little old thing like that, 
 so you see, lady, you gotta talk low an' take care you don't 
 let on to no one. If you should turn yella it ud be all up 
 with little Laurie an' no mistake, so keep yer mouth shet 
 an' do as I tell ye, and I'll help ye out. Yes, as I was sayin' 
 when I seen little Laurie layin' there so still an' white, my 
 conscience — There, there, lady, don't you take on — ^as I 
 was sayin' my conscience troubled me, an' I says, I'm 
 agonta get this fella free ! So I figgered out a way. You 
 see lady, there's two of us, me'n another feller set to 
 watch 'im, an' feed him dope if he tries to wake up, an' 
 when I get feelin' worried about it I says to the other fella 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 149 
 
 I was agonta tell his folks, an' he says he'll shoot me, but 
 I keeps on tellin' him how sinful 'twas to make a poor 
 mother suffer — I gotta mother myself ma'am ! Yes ma'am 
 a good old mother, an' she taught me to be honest, so I 
 says to thother fella, I says what'll you take an' git out, 
 an' he says ten thousand dollars, an' I says, awwright, I'll 
 get it fer ya, an' so now lady, 'f I was you I'd pay it right 
 down quick 'fore he changes his mind. Cause the other 
 fellas they was goin' to ast a million, an' kill 'im if you 
 didn't fall fer it right to oncet. No ma'am I don't want 
 nothin' fer myself. I just want to go back to the old 
 farm with a clean conscience. What ? Oh, yes, I want the 
 money right away, that is before mornin'. If we can't get 
 him out before mornin' it ain't no use, fer the other 
 fellas is comin' back an' move him an' we can't do nothin' ? 
 What? Where is he? I couldnt' really say, lady, it 
 wouldn't be allowed, an' my mate he's outside the tele- 
 phone booth with a loaded revolver holdin' it up to my 
 head, and he's listenin' an' ef I give anythin' away he'd 
 shoot me on the spot. So where would your nice lookin* 
 son be then? Mrs. Shafton hadn't you better — ? That's 
 right lady, I knew you'd thank me, an' yes, now I'll tell you 
 what to do. First place, how much money ya got in the 
 house? No, that's not 'nough. That wouldn't do a mite 
 of good, it wouldn't be a drop in the bucket. Ain't ya got 
 any bonds, ur jewels or papers ? Yes, that's the talk ! Now; 
 yer shoutin' — ^Yes, lady, that would do. No, — not that. 
 You gotta have something that he can't get caught with. I 
 know you're loosin' a lot lady, but you got lots left, and 
 what's money an' jewels compared to your only son, 
 ma'am? Why, think how he used to look when he 
 wore little white dresses an' used to come to have his head 
 kissed when he fell down ! Wasn't he sweet, lady, and he 
 had a pair of little blue shoes didn't he? I thought so. 
 
150 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Say, lady, you'r the right sort ! I knowed you must be to 
 be a mother of such a handsome son. Now, lady, could 
 you hustle those things together you spoke of an' any 
 more you may happen to come on, and just put 'em in a 
 little box er basket, and tie a string on 'em an' let 'em 
 down outta yer winda? It's all I'll ask. Let 'em down 
 outta yer winda. Then you turn out the lights and turn 
 'em on again three times real quick, out an' in, an' that'll 
 be the signal. An' after ten minutes you look out yer 
 front winda an' off as fur as ye can see an' I'll flash a signal 
 light to ya jest to let ya know it's all right. An' I'll 
 promise you on my word of honor that you'll hear your 
 own son's voice over the telephone good an' early to- 
 morrow mornin' an' no mistake. But lady, ye mustn't 
 turn yella an' holler ner nothin or we'll fling yer jewels an' 
 paper back in yer yard an* let yer son die. We ain't goin' 
 to run no chances ye know. You ain't got no dogs, have 
 ye? And which side is yer room on? The front? Yes, 
 an' which is the easiest way to get to the house without 
 comin' near the servants' quarters ? To the right ? Yes, I 
 see. An' you'll play straight ? All right lady. Your son's 
 as good as home now. I'll give you just one hour by the 
 clock to get yer stuff together, but mind ya, if ya weaken 
 an' try to put the p'lice onto me, I got a way to signal my 
 pal, an' he'll have that boy o' yours shot within five minutes 
 after you call fer help? Understand? Oh, yes, I know 
 lady, you wouldn't do no such a thing, but my pal he made 
 me say that. He's a desperate man lady, an' there ain't no 
 use toyin' with him. All right. One hour. It's just 
 quarter to 'leven. Good-bye ! " 
 
 Link came lounging out of the booth mopping his 
 wet forehead: 
 
 " She fell fer it all right," he said jerking a wan smile, 
 but he looked as though the last of his own nerve had gone 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 151 
 
 into the telephone receiver. " She wanted to put in an 
 extra check, but I told her we'd be generous and let it go 
 at what she could find without her name on it. Gosh, 
 what fools some wommen are ! I thought I got her num- 
 ber all right, a whimperin' fool ! A whimperin* little old 
 fool! Now, Shorty, all we gotta do is collect the boodle. 
 It's up to you to watch outside the hedge. I'm takin' all 
 the risks this time m'self, an' I'm goin' to ferret my way 
 under that there madam's winder. You stay outside and 
 gimme the signal. Ef you get cold feet an' leave me in 
 the lurch you don't get no dividends, See ? " 
 
XIII 
 
 Billy, with that fine inner sense that some boys have, 
 perceived that there was deep emotion of a silent sort be- 
 tween the minister and Mark, and he drifted away from 
 them unnoticed, back toward the car. 
 
 " Billy ! '' whispered Lynn, rising from the upper step 
 in the shadow of the church. 
 
 The boy turned with a quick silent stride and was 
 beside her: 
 
 " I couldn't help it, Miss Lynn, I really couldn't — 
 There was something very important — Cart — That is — 
 Cart needed me ! I knew you'd understand." 
 
 " Yes, Billy, I understand. Somehow I knew you were 
 with Mark. It's good to have a friend like you, Billy ! " 
 She smiled wanly. 
 
 Billy looked up half proud, half ashamed : 
 
 " It's nothin' ! " said Billy, " I just had to. Cart- 
 well, I had to." 
 
 " I know, Billy — Mark needed you. And Billy, — if 
 there's any trouble — any — any — that is if Mark ever needs 
 you, you'll stick by him I know? " 
 
 " Sure ! " said Billy looking up with a sudden searching 
 glance, " Sure, I'll stick by him! " 
 
 " And if there's anything — anything that ought to be 
 done — why — I mean anything we could do — Billy, — you'll 
 let us know ? " 
 
 " Sure, I will ! " There was utmost comprehension in 
 the firm young voice. Billy kicked his heel softly into the 
 grass by the walk, looking down embarrassedly. He half 
 started on toward the car and then turning back he said 
 suddenly, " Why doncha go see Cherry, Miss Lynn? " 
 
 " Cherry? " she said startled, her face growing white 
 in the darkness. 
 
 152 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 153 
 
 The boy nodded, stuffing his hands deep into his 
 pockets and regarding her with sudden boldness. He 
 opened his Hps as if he would speak further, then thought 
 better of it and closed them again firmly, dropping his eyes 
 as if he were done with the topic. There was a bit of 
 silence, then Lynn said gravely: 
 
 " Perhaps I will," and " Thank you, Billy." 
 
 Billy felt as though the balm of Gilead had suddenly 
 been poured over his tired heart. 
 
 '' G'night ! " he murmured, feeling that he had put his 
 troubles into capable hands that would care for them as 
 he TJfould himself. 
 
 There had been no word spoken between the minister 
 and Mark as they went together toward the parsonage, 
 but there had seemed to each to be a great clearing of the 
 clouds between them, and a tender love springing anew, 
 with warm understanding and sympathy. Mark felt him- 
 self a boy again, with the minister's arm across his 
 shoulder, and a strong yearning to confide in this under- 
 standing friend, swept over him. If there had been a quiet 
 place with no one about just then there is no telling what 
 might have happened to change the story from that point 
 on, but their silent intercourse was rudely interrupted by 
 the voice of Laurie Shaft on breaking in : 
 
 " Oh, I say, Mr. Severn, who did you say that man 
 was that could fix cars? Fd like to call him up and see if 
 he doesn't happen to have some bearings now. He surely . 
 must have returned by this time hasn't he? I'd like 
 to take these girls a spin. The moon is perfectly gorgeous. 
 We could go in the lady's car, only it is smaller and I 
 thought I'd ask your daughter to go along." 
 
 " Oh ! " said the minister suddenly brought back into 
 the world of trivial things? "Why, this is Mr, Carter, Mr. 
 Shafton. He can speak for himself." 
 
154 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Mark stood with lifted head and his princely look re- 
 garding the interloper with cold eyes. He acknowledged 
 the introduction almost haughtily, and listened to the story 
 of the burnt out bearings without a change of countenance, 
 then said gravely : 
 
 " I think I can fix you up in the morning." 
 
 " Not to-night ? " asked the spoiled Laurie with a 
 frown of displeasure. 
 
 " Not to-night/' said Mark with a finality that some- 
 how forbade even a Shafton from further parley. 
 
 Opal had regarded Mark from the vine covered porch 
 as he stood with bared head in the moonlight and clattered 
 down on her tiny patent leather pumps to be introduced. 
 She came and stood hanging pertly on Laurie Shafton's 
 arm as if he were her private property, with her large 
 limpid eyes fixed upon the stranger, this prince of a man 
 that had suddenly turned up in this funny little coun- 
 try dump. 
 
 She put her giddy little tongue into the conversation, 
 something about how delicious it would be to take a little 
 ride to-night, implying that Mark might go along if he 
 would fix up the car. She was dressed in a slim, clinging 
 frock of some rich Persian gauzy silk stuff, heavy with 
 beads in dull barbaric patterns, and girt with a rope of jet 
 and jade. Her slim white neck rose like a stem from 
 the transparent neck line, and a beaded band about her 
 forehead held the fluffy hair in place about her pretty dark 
 little head. She wore long jade earrings which nearly 
 touched the white shoulders, and gave her the air of an 
 Egyptian princess. She was very gorgeous, and unusual 
 even in the moonlight, and she knew it, yet this strange 
 young man gave her one cold scrutinizing glance and 
 turned away. 
 
 "FU see you again in the morning, Mr. Severn," he 
 said, and wringing the minister's hand silently, he went 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 155 
 
 back across the lawn. The spell was broken and the min- 
 ister knew it would be of no use to follow. Mark would 
 say no more of his trouble tonight. 
 
 It was so that Lynn, coming swiftly from her shadow, 
 with troubled thoughts, came face to face with Mark : 
 
 He stopped suddenly as if something had struck him. 
 
 **Oh, Mark!" she breathed softly, and put out 
 her hand. 
 
 He made a swift motion away from her, and 
 said quickly : 
 
 "Don't touch me, Marilyn, — I am — not — worthy f 
 
 Then quickly turning he sprang into his car and started 
 the engine. 
 
 The minister stood in the moonlight looking sadly after 
 the wayward boy whom he had loved for years. 
 
 Lynn came swiftly toward her father, scarcely seeing 
 the two strangers ? She had a feeling that he needed com- 
 forting. But the minister, not noticing her approach, 
 had turned and was hurrying into the house by the 
 side entrance. 
 
 " Come on girls, let's have a little excitement," cried 
 Laurie Shafton gaily, "How about some music? There's 
 a piano in the house I see, let's boom her up ! " 
 
 He made a sudden dive and swooped an arm intimately 
 about each girl's waist, starting them violently toward the 
 steps, forgetting the lame ankle that was supposed to make 
 him somewhat helpless. 
 
 The sudden unexpected action took Marilyn unaware, 
 and before she could get her footing or do anything about 
 it she caught a swift vision of a white face in the passing 
 car. Mark had seen the whole thing! She drew back 
 quickly, indignantly flinging the offending arm from her 
 waist, and hurried after her father ; but it was too late to 
 undo the impression that Mark must have had. He had 
 passed by, 
 
156 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Inside the door she stopped short, stamping her white 
 shod foot with quick anger, her face white with fury, her 
 eyes fairly blazing. If Laurie had seen her now he would 
 scarcely have compared her to a saint. To think that on 
 this day of trouble and perplexity this gay insolent 
 stranger should dare to intrude and presume! And 
 before Mark! 
 
 But a low spoken word of her mother's reached her 
 from the dining-room, turning aside her anger : 
 
 " I hate to ask Lynn to take her into her room. Such 
 a queer girl ! It seems like a desecration ! Lynn's 
 lovely room ! " 
 
 " She had no right to put herself upon us ! '' said the 
 father in troubled tones. **She is as far from our daughter 
 as heaven is from the pit. Who is she, anyway ? " 
 
 " He merely introduced her as his friend Opal." 
 
 " Is there nothing else we can do? " 
 
 " We might give her our room, but it would take some 
 time to put it in order for a guest. There would be a good 
 many things to move — ^and it would be rather awkward in 
 the morning, cots in the living-room. I suppose Lynn 
 could come in with me and you sleep on a cot — I *' 
 
 " Yes, that's exactly it ! Do that. I don't mind." 
 
 "I suppose we'll have to," sighed the mother, " for I 
 know Lynn would hate it having a stranger among her 
 pretty intimate things — ! " 
 
 Marilyn sprang up and burst into the dining-room : 
 
 " Mother ! Did you think I was such a spoiled baby 
 that I couldn't be courteous to a stranger even if she was 
 a detestable little vamp? You're not to bother about it 
 any more. She'll come into my room with me of course. 
 You didn't expect me to sail through life without any 
 sacrifices at all did you, Motherie? Suppose I had gone 
 to Africa as I almost did last year? Don't you fancy 
 there'd have been some things harder than sharing my 
 twin beds with a disagreeable stranger ? Besides, remem- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 157 
 
 ber those angels unaware that the Bible talks about. I 
 guess this is up to me, so put away your frets and come 
 on in. It's time we had worship and ended this day. But 
 I guess those two self-imposed boarders of ours need a 
 little religion first. Come on ! " 
 
 She dropped a kiss on each forehead lightly and fled 
 into the other room. 
 
 " What a girl she is ! " said her father tenderly put- 
 ting his hand gently on the spot she had kissed, "A great 
 blessing in our home ! Dear child ! " 
 
 The mother said nothing, but her eyes were filled with 
 a great content. 
 
 Marilyn, throwing aside her hat and appearing in the 
 front door called pleasantly to the two outside : 
 
 " Well, Fm ready for the music. You can come in 
 when you wish." 
 
 They sauntered in presently, but Marilyn was already 
 at the piano playing softly a bit from the Angel Chorus, 
 a snatch of HandeFs Largo, a Chopin Nocturne, one of 
 Mendelssohn's songs without words. The two came in 
 hilariously, the young man pretending to lean heavily on 
 the girl, and finding much occasion to hold her hands, a 
 performance to which she seemed to be not at all averse. 
 They came and stood beside the piano. 
 
 " Now," said Opal gaily, when Marilyn came to the 
 end of another Nocturne : " That's enough gloom. Give 
 us a little jazz and Laurie and I'll dance awhile." 
 
 Marilyn let her hands fall with a soft crash on the keys 
 and looked up. Then her face broke up into a smile, as if 
 she had put aside an unpleasant thought and determined 
 to be friendly : 
 
 " I'm sorry," she said firmly, " We don't play jazz, my 
 piano and I. I never learned to love it, and besides I'm 
 tired. I've been playing all day you know. You will ex- 
 cuse anything more I'm sure. And it's getting late for 
 Sabbath Valley. Did you have any plans for to-night? " 
 
158 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Opal stared, but Maril}^! stared back pleasantly, and 
 Laurie watched them both. 
 
 "Why, no, not exactly," drawled Opal, "I thought 
 Laurie would be hospitable enough to look me up a place. 
 Where is your best hotel? Is it possible at all? " 
 
 "We haven't a sign of a hotel," said Marilyn smiling. 
 
 " Oh, horrors, nothing but a boarding house I sup- 
 pose. Is it far away? " 
 
 " Not even a boarding house." 
 
 *'Oh, heavens ! Well, where do you stop then? " 
 
 " We don't stop, we live," said Marilyn smiling. " I'm 
 afraid the only thing you can do unless you decide to go 
 back home tonight is to share my room with me, — I have 
 twin beds you know and can make you quite comfortable. 
 I often have a college friend to stay with me for a 
 few weeks." 
 
 Opal stared round eyed. This was a college girl then, 
 hidden away in a hole like this. Not even an extra spare 
 room in the house ! 
 
 " Oh my gracious ! " she responded bluntly, " I'm not 
 used to rooming with some one, but it's very kind of you 
 I'm sure." 
 
 Marilyn's cheeks grew red and her eyes flashed but she 
 whirled back to her keyboard and began to play, this time 
 a sweet old hymn, and while she was playing and before 
 the two strangers had thought of anything to say, Mr. 
 Severn came in with the Book in his hand, followed by his 
 wife, who drew a small rocker and sat down beside him. 
 
 Marilyn paused and the minister opened his Bible and 
 looked around on them: 
 
 " I hope you'll join us in our evening worship," he 
 said pleasantly to the two guests, and then while they still 
 stared he began to read : "Let not your heart be troubled : 
 ye believe in God, believe also in Me," on through the 
 beautiful chapter. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 159 
 
 It was as Greek to the strangers, who heard and did 
 not comprehend, and they looked about amazed on this 
 Httle family with dreamy eyes all listening as if it meant 
 great treasures to them. It was as if they saw the Severns 
 for the first time and realized them as individuals, as a 
 force in the world, something complete in itself, a family 
 that was not doing the things they did, not having the 
 things considered essential to life, nor trying to go after 
 any of the things that life had to offer, but living their own 
 beautiful lives in their own way without regard to the 
 world, and actually enjoying it! That was the queer part 
 about it. They were not dull nor bored! They were 
 happy ! They could get out from an environment like this 
 if they choose, and they did not. They wanted to stay here. 
 It was incredible ! 
 
 Laurie got out his cigarette case, selected a cigarette, 
 got out his match box, selected a match, and all but lit it. 
 Then somehow there seemed to be something incongruous 
 about the action and he looked around. No one was see- 
 ing him but Opal, and she was laughing at him. He 
 flushed, put back the match and the cigarette, and folded 
 his arms, trying to look at home in this strange new en- 
 vironment. But the girl Marilyn^s eyes were far away as 
 if she were drinking strange knowledge at a secret 
 invisible source, and she seemed to have forgotten 
 their presence. 
 
 Then the family knelt. How odd! Knelt down, each 
 where he had been sitting, and the minister began to talk 
 to God. It did not impress the visitors as prayer. They 
 involuntarily looked around to see to whom he was talking. 
 Laurie reddened again and dropped his face into his hands. 
 He had met Opal's eyes and she was shaking with mirth, 
 but somehow it affected him rawly. Suddenly he felt im- 
 pelled to gtt to his knees. He seemed conspicuous reared 
 up in a chair, and he slid noiselessly to the floor with 
 
160 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 a wrench of the hurt ankle that caused him to draw his 
 brows in a frown. Opal, left alone in this room full 
 of devout backs, grew suddenly grave. She felt almost 
 afraid. She began to think of Saybrook Inn and the man 
 lying there stark and dead ! The man she had danced with 
 but a week before ! Dead ! And for her ! She cringed, and 
 crouched down in her chair, till her beaded frock swept 
 the polished floor in a little tinkley sound that seemed to 
 echo all over the room, and before she knew it her fear 
 of being alone had brought her to her knees. To be like 
 the rest of the world — ^to be even more alike than anybody 
 else in the world, that had always been her ambition. The 
 motive of her life now brought her on her knees because 
 others were there and she was afraid to sit above lest their 
 God should come walking by and she should see Him and 
 die ! She did not know she put it that way to her soul, but 
 she did, in the secret recesses of her inner dwelling. 
 
 Before they had scarcely got to their knees and while 
 that awkward hush was yet upon them the room was filled 
 with the soft sound of singing, started by the minister, 
 perhaps, or was it his wife? It was unaccompanied, 
 " Abide with me, Fast falls the eventide, the darkness 
 deepens. Lord with me abide ! " Even Laurie joined an 
 erratic high tenor humming in on the last verse, and Opal 
 shuddered as the words were sung, " Hold thou thy cross 
 before my closing eyes, Shine through the dark and point 
 me to the skies." Death was a horrible thing to her. She 
 never wanted to be reminded of death. It was a long, long 
 way off to her. She always drowned the thought in what- 
 ever amusement was at hand. 
 
 The song died away just in time or Opal might have 
 screamed. She was easily wrought up. And then this 
 strange anomoly of a girl, her young hostess, turned to her 
 with a natural smile just as if nothing extraordinary had 
 been going on and said : 
 
 " Now, shall we say good-night and go upstairs ? I 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 161 
 
 know you must be tired after your long ride, and I know 
 father has had a hard day and would like to get the house 
 settled for the night." 
 
 Opal arose with a wild idea of screaming and running 
 away, but she caught the twinkle of Laurie's eyes and 
 knew he was laughing at her. So she relaxed into her 
 habitual languor, and turning haughtily requested: 
 
 " Would you send your maid to the cyar for my 
 bag, please ? " 
 
 Before anyone could respond the minister stepped to 
 the door with a courteous " Certainly," and presently 
 returned with a great blue leather affair with silver mount- 
 ings, and himself carried it up the stairs. 
 
 At the head of the stairs Marilyn met him, and put 
 her head on his shoulder hiding her face in his coat, and 
 murmured, " Oh, Daddy! " 
 
 Severn smoothed her soft hair and murmured gently : 
 " There, there little girl ! Pray ! Pray! Our Father knows 
 what's best ! " but neither of them were referring to the 
 matter of the unwelcome guests. 
 
 Mrs. Severn was solicitous about asking if there was 
 anything the guest would like, a glass of milk, or some 
 fruit? And Opal declined curtly, made a little moue at 
 Shafton and followed up the stairs. 
 
 ** Well ! " she said rudely, as she entered the lovely 
 room and stared around, ''so this is your room !" Then she 
 walked straight to the wall on the other side of the room 
 where hung a framed photograph of Mark at twelve years 
 ^old; Mark, with all the promise of his princely bearing 
 already upon him. 
 
 " So this is the perfect icicle of a stunning young 
 prince that was down on the lawn, is it ? I thought there 
 w^as some reason for your frantic indifference to men. 
 Is his name Billy or Mark? Laurie said it was either Billy 
 or Mark, he wasn't sure which.'* 
 
 11 
 
XIV 
 
 Mark Carter and Billy as they rode silently down the 
 little street toward Aunt Saxon's cottage did not speak. 
 They did not need to speak, these two. They had utmost 
 confidence in one another, they were both troubled, and 
 had no solution to offer for the difficulty. That was enough 
 to seal any wise mouth. Only at the door as Billy climbed 
 out Mark leaned toward him and said in a low growl : 
 
 "You're all right. Kid! You're the best friend a 
 man ever had ! I appreciate what you did ! " 
 
 " Aw ! " squirmed Billy, pulling down his cap, " That's 
 awright ! See you t'morra' Cart ! S'long ! " And 
 Billy stalked slowly down the street remembering for the 
 first time that he had his aunt yet to reckon with. 
 
 With the man's way of taking the bull by the horns 
 he stormed in: 
 
 " Aw, Gee ! I'm tired ! Now, I 'spo'se you'll bawl me 
 out fer a nour, an' I couldn't help it ! You always jump 
 on me worst when I ain't to blame ! " 
 
 Aunt Saxon turned her pink damp face toward the 
 prodigal and broke into a plaintive little smile : 
 
 " Why, Willie, is that you ? I'm real glad you've come. 
 I've kept supper waiting. We've got cold pressed chicken, 
 and I stirred up some waffles. I thought you'd like some- 
 thing hot." 
 
 Billy stared, but the reaction was too much. In order 
 to keep the sudden tears back he roared out crossly : 
 
 " Well, I ain't hungry. You hadn't oughtta have 
 waited. Pressed chicken, did ya say? Aw Gee! Just 
 when I ain't hungry! Ef that ain't luck! An' waffles! 
 You oughtta known better! But bring 'em on. I'll try 
 what I can do," and he flung himself down in his chair at 
 102 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 163 
 
 the table and rested a torn elbow on the clean cloth, and 
 his weary head on a grimy hand. And then when she put 
 the food before him, without even suggesting that he go 
 first and wash, he became suddenly conscious of his dis- 
 hevelled condition and went and washed his hands and face 
 without being sent! Then he returned and did large jus- 
 tice to the meal, his aunt eyeing furtively with watery 
 smiles, and a sigh of relief now and then. At last she 
 ventured a word by way of conversation : 
 
 " How is the man on the mountain?'* Billy looked up 
 sharply, startled out of his usual stolidity with which he 
 had learned from early youth to mask all interest or 
 emotion from an officious and curious world. 
 
 Miss Saxon smiled: 
 
 " Mrs. Carter told me how you and Mark went to help 
 a man on the mountain. It was nice of you Billy." 
 
 **Oh! that!'' said Billy scornfully, rallying to screen 
 his agitation, "Oh, he's better. He got up and went home. 
 Oh, it wasn't nothing. I just went and helped Cart. Sorry 
 not to get back to Sunday School Saxy, but I didn't think 
 'twould take so long." 
 
 After that most unusual explanation, conversation 
 languished, while Billy consumed the final waffle, after 
 which he remarked gravely that if she didn't mind he'd go 
 to bed. He paused at the foot of the stair with a new 
 thought fulness to ask if she wanted any wood brought 
 in for morning, and she cried all the time she was washing 
 up the few dishes at his consideration of her. Perhaps, 
 as Mrs. Severn had told her, there was going to come a 
 change and Billy was really growing more manly. 
 
 Billy, as he made his brief preparation for bed told 
 himself that he couldn't sleep, he had too much to worry 
 about and dope out, but his head had no more than touched 
 the pillow till he was dead to the world. Whatever came 
 on the morrow, whatever had happened the day before, 
 
164 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Billy had to sleep it out before he was fit to think. And 
 Billy slept. 
 
 But up the street in the Carter house a light burned 
 late in Mark's window, and Mark himself, his mother 
 soothed and comforted and sent to sleep, sat up in his big 
 leather chair that his mother had given him on the last 
 birthday before he left home, and stared at the wall opposite 
 where hung the picture of a little girl in a white dress with 
 floating hair and starry eyes. In his face there grew a 
 yearning and a hopelessness that was beyond anything to 
 describe. It was like a face that is suffering pain of fire 
 and studying to be brave, yet burns and suffers and is not 
 consumed. That was the look in Mark Carter's eyes and 
 around his finely chiseled lips. Once, when he was in that 
 mood travelling on a railway carriage, a woman across the 
 aisle had called her husband's attention to him. " Look 
 at that man !" she said, "He looks like a lost soul ! " 
 
 For a long time he sat and stared at the picture, with- 
 out a motion of his body, or without even the flicker of an 
 eyelash, as if he were set there to see the panorama of 
 his thoughts pass before him and see them through to the 
 bitter end. His eyes were deep and gray. In boyhood 
 they had held a wistful expectation of enchanting things 
 and doing great deeds of valor. They were eyes that 
 dream, and believe, and are happy even suffering, so 
 faith remain and love be not denied. But faith had been 
 struck a deadly blow in these eyes now, and love had been 
 cast away. The eyes looked old and tired and unbelieving, 
 yet still searching, searching, though seeing dimly, and yet 
 more dim every day, searching for the dreams of child- 
 hood and knowing they would never come again. Feeling 
 sure that they might not come again because he had shut 
 the door against them with his own hand, and by his own 
 act cut the bridge on which they might have crossed from 
 heaven to him. 
 
THE CITY OF FIKE 165 
 
 A chastened face, humbled by suffering when alone, 
 but proud and unyielding still before others. Mark Carter 
 looking over his past knew just where he had started down 
 this road of pain, just where he had made the first mistake, 
 sinned the first sin, chosen pride instead of humility, the 
 devil instead of God. And to-night Mark Carter sat and 
 faced the immediate future and saw what was before him. 
 As if a painted map lay out there on the wall before him, 
 he saw the fire through which he must pass, and the way 
 it would scorch the faces of those he loved, and his soul 
 cried out in anguish at the the sight. Back, back over his 
 past life he tramped again and again. Days when he and 
 Lynn and her father and mother had gone off on little 
 excursions, with a lunch and a dog and a book, and all the 
 world of nature as their playground. A little thought, a 
 trifling word that had been spoken, some bit of beauty at 
 which they looked, an ant they watched struggling with 
 a crumb too heavy for it, a cluster of golden leaves or the 
 scarlet berries of the squaw vine among the moss. How 
 the memories made his heart ache as he thought them out 
 of the past. 
 
 And the books they had read aloud, sometimes the 
 minister, sometimes his wife doing the reading, but 
 always he was counted into the little circle as if they were 
 a family. He had come to look upon them as his second 
 father and mother. His own father he had never known. 
 
 His eyes sought the bookcase near at hand. There 
 they were, some of them birthday gifts and Christmases, 
 and he had liked nothing better than a new book which he 
 always carried over to be read in the company. Oh, those 
 years! How the books marked their going! Even way 
 back in his little boyhood ! " Hans Brinker or the Silver 
 Skates.'* He touched its worn blue back and silver letters 
 scarcely discernible. " The Call of the Wild." How he 
 had thrilled to the sorrows of that dog ! And how many 
 
166 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 life lessons had been wrapped up in the creature's ex- 
 perience! How had he drifted so far away from it all? 
 How could he have done it ? No one had pushed him, he 
 had gone himself. He knew the very moment when after 
 days of agony he had made the awful decision, scarcely 
 believing himself that he meant to stick by it; hoping 
 against hope that some great miracle would come to pass 
 that should change it all and put him back where he longed 
 to be ! How he had prayed and prayed in his childish faith 
 and agony for the miracle, and — it had not come! God 
 had gone back on him. He had not kept His promises ! 
 And then he had deliberately given up his faith. He could 
 think back over all the days and weeks that led up to this. 
 Just after the time when he had been so happy; had felt 
 that he was growing up, and understanding so many of the 
 great problems of life. The future looked rosy before 
 him, because he felt that he was beginning to grasp wisdom 
 and the sweetness of things. How little he had known of 
 his own foolishness and sinfulness ! 
 
 It was just after they had finished reading and dis- 
 cussing Dante's Vision. What a wonderful man Mr. 
 Severn was that he had taken two children and guided 
 them through that beautiful, fearful, wonderful story! 
 How it had impressed him then, and stayed with him all 
 these awful months and days since he had trodden the 
 same fiery way — ! 
 
 He reached his hand out for the book, bound in dull 
 blue cloth, the symbol of its serious import. He had not 
 opened the book since they finished it and Mr. Severn had 
 handed it over to him and told him to keep it, as he had 
 another copy. He opened the book as if it had been the 
 coffin of his beloved, and there between the dusty pages 
 lay a bit of blue ribbon, creased with the pages, and jag- 
 ged on the edges because it had been cut with a jack knife. 
 And lying smooth upon it in a golden curve a wisp of a 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE, 167 
 
 yellow curl, just a section of one of Marilyn's, the day she 
 put her hair up, and did away with the curls ! He had cut the 
 ribbon from the end of a great bow that held the curls at the 
 back of her head, and then he had laughingly insisted on 
 a piece of the curl, and they had made a great time col- 
 lecting the right amount of hair, for Marilyn insisted it 
 must not make a rough spot for her to brush. Then he had 
 laid it in the book, the finished book, and shut it away 
 carefully, and gone home, and the next day, — ^the very next 
 day, the thing had happened ! 
 He turned the leaves sadly: 
 
 " In midway of this our mortal life, 
 I found me in a gloomy wood, astray 
 Gone from the path direct: — " 
 
 It startled him, so well it fitted with his mood. It was 
 himself, and yet he could remember well how he had felt 
 for the writer when he heard it first. Terrible to sit here 
 to-night and know it was himself all the time the tale had 
 been about ! He turned a page or two and out from the 
 text there stood a line : 
 
 "All hope abandon ye who enter here." 
 
 That was the matter with himself. He had abandoned 
 all hope. Over the leaf his eye ran down the page : 
 
 "This miserable fate 
 Suffer the wretched souls of those who lived 
 Without praise or blame, with that ill band 
 Of angels mixed, who nor rebellious proved 
 Nor yet were true to God, but for themselves 
 Were only." 
 
 How well he remembered the minister's little com- 
 ments as he read, How the sermons had impressed them- 
 
168 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 selves upon his heart as he listened, and yet here he was, 
 himself, in hell! He turned over the pages again quickly 
 unable to get away from the picture that grew in his mind, 
 the vermilion towers and minarets, the crags and peaks, 
 the " little brook, whose crimson'd wave, yet lifts my hair 
 with horror," he could see it all as if he had lived there 
 many years. Strange he had not thought before of the 
 likeness of his Hfe to this. He read again : 
 
 "O Tuscan! thou who through the city of fire 
 Alive art passing, — " 
 
 Yes, that was it. A City of Fire. He dwelt in a City 
 of Fire! Hell! There was a hell on earth to-day and 
 mortals entered it and dwelt there. He lived in that City of 
 Fire continually now. He expected to live there forever. He 
 had sinned against God and his better self, and had begun 
 his eternal life on earth. It was too late ever to turn back. 
 ** All Hope abandon, ye who enter here." He had read it 
 and defied it. He had entered knowing what he was about, 
 and thinking, poor fool that he was, that he was doing a 
 wise and noble thing for the sake of another. 
 
 Over in the little parsonage, the white souled girl was 
 walking in an earthly heaven. Ah! There was nothing, 
 nothing they had in common now any more. She lived 
 in the City of Hope and he in the City of Fire. 
 
 He flung out the book from him and dropped his face 
 into his hands crying softly under his breath, " Oh, Lynn, 
 Lynn — Marilyn I " 
 
XV 
 
 For one instant Lynn stood against the closed door, 
 flaming with anger, her eyes flashing fire as they well knew 
 how to flash at times. Then suddenly her lips set close 
 in a fine control the fire died out of her eyes, she drew a 
 deep breath, and a quick whimsical smile lighted up her 
 face, which nevertheless did not look in the least like 
 one subdued: 
 
 " You know I could get very angry at that if I chose 
 and we'd have all kinds of a disagreeable time, but I think 
 it would be a little pleasanter for us both if you would cut 
 that out, don't you? " She said it in a cool little voice that 
 sounded like one in entire command of the situation, and 
 Opal turned around and stared at her admiringly. Then 
 she laughed one of her wild silvery laughs that made them 
 say she had a lute-like voice, and sauntered over toward 
 her hostess: 
 
 " You certainly are a queer girl ! " she commented, " I 
 suppose it would be better to be friends, inasmuch as we're 
 to be roommates. Will you smoke with me ? " and out 
 from the depths of a beaded affair that was a part of her 
 frock and yet looked more like a bag than a pocket, she 
 drew forth a gold cigarette case and held it out. 
 
 Marilyn controlled the growing contempt in her face 
 and answered with spirit : 
 
 " No, I don't smoke. And you won't smoke either — 
 not in here! I'm sorry to seem inhospitable, but we don't 
 do things like that around here, and if you have to smoke 
 you'll have to go out doors." 
 
 " Oh, really? " Opal arched her already permanently 
 arched, plucked brows and laughed again. " Well, you 
 certainly have lots of pep. I believe I'm going to like you. 
 Let's sit down and you tell me about yourself ? " 
 
 169 
 
170 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 " Why don't you tell me about yourself f hedged 
 Marilyn relaxing into a chair and leaving the deep leather 
 one for her guest, " Fm really a very simple affair, just a 
 country girl very glad to get home after four years at 
 college. There's nothing complex and nothing to tell I 
 assure you/' 
 
 " You're entirely too sophisticated for all that sim- 
 plicity," declared Opal, " I suppose it's college that has 
 given you so much poise. But why aren't you impressed 
 w^ith Laurie ? Simply everybody is impressed with Laurie ! 
 I don't believe you even know who he is ! " 
 
 Lynn laughed : 
 
 " How should I ? And what difference would it make 
 any way ? As for being impressed, he gave me the impres- 
 sion of a very badly spoiled boy out trying to have his own 
 way, and making a great fuss because he couldn't get it." 
 
 " And you didn't know that his father is William J. 
 Shafton, the multi-millionaire?" Opal brought the 
 words out like little sharp points that seemed to glitter 
 affluently as she spoke them. 
 
 " No," said Marilyn, " I didn't know. But it doesn't 
 matter. We hadn't anything better to offer him than we've 
 given, and I don't know why I should have been impressed 
 by that. A man is what he is, isn't he? Not what his 
 father is. He isn't your — brother — is he ? I was over at 
 the church when you arrived and didn't hear the introduc- 
 tions. I didn't even get your name." 
 
 Opal laughed uproariously as if the subject were over- 
 whelmingly amusing : 
 
 " No, she said recovering, " I'm just Opal. Fire Opal 
 they call me sometimes, and Opalescence. That's Laurie's 
 name for me, although lately he's taken to calling me 
 Effervescence. No, he's not my brother little Simple 
 Lady, he's just one of my friends. Now don't look 
 shocked. I'm a naughty married lady run off on a spree 
 ior a little fun." Marilyn regarded her thoughtfully: 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 171 
 
 " Now stop looking at me with those solemn eyes ! 
 Tell me what you were thinking about me ! Fd lots rather 
 hear it. It would be something original, Tm sure. You're 
 nothing if not original ! '* 
 
 " I was just wondering why," said Marilyn still 
 thoughtfully. 
 
 "Why what?" 
 
 " Why. Why you did it. Why you wanted to be that 
 kind of a married woman when the real kind is so much 
 more beautiful and satisfactory." 
 
 " What do you know about it ? " blazed Opal, " YouVe 
 never been married, have you ? " 
 
 " My mother has had such a wonderful life with my 
 father — and my father with my mother ! " 
 
 Opal stared at her amazed for an instant, then shrug- 
 ged her shoulders lightly : 
 
 "Oh, that!" she said and laughed disagreeably, "If 
 one wants to be a saint, perhaps, but there aren't many 
 men-S3mts I can tell you ! You haven't seen my husband 
 or you wouldn't talk like that ! Imagine living a saintly 
 life with Ed Verrons ! But my dear, wait till you're mar- 
 ried ! You won't talk that rubbish any more !" 
 
 " I shall never marry unless I can," said Lynn decid- 
 edly, " It would be terrible to marry some one I could not 
 love and trust ! " 
 
 " Oh, love ! " said Opal contemptuously, " You can 
 love any one you want to for a little while. Love doesn't 
 last. It's just a play you soon get tired to death of. But 
 if that's the way you feel don't pin your trust and your 
 love as you call it to that princely icicle we saw down on 
 the lawn. He's seen more of the world than you know. I 
 saw it in his eyes. There! Now don't set your eyes to 
 blazing again. I won't mention him any more to-night. 
 And don't worry about me, I'm going to be good and run 
 back to-morrow morning in time to meet my dear old 
 
172 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 hubby in the evening when he gets back from a week*s 
 fishing in the Adirondacks, and he'll never guess what a 
 frolic I've had. But you certainly do amuse me with your 
 indifference. Wait till Laurie gets in some of his work 
 on you. I can see he's crazy already about you, and if I 
 don't decide to carry him off with me in the morning I'll 
 miss my guess if he doesn't show you how altogether 
 charming the son of William J. Shafton can be. He never 
 failed to have a girl fall for him yet, not one that he 
 went after, and he's been after a good many girls I can 
 tell you." 
 
 Lynn arose suddenly, her chin a bit high, a light of 
 determination in her eyes. She felt herself growing 
 angry again: 
 
 " Come and look at my view of the moon on the val- 
 ley," she said suddenly, pulling aside the soft scrim cur- 
 tain and letting in a flood of moonlight. " Here, I'll turn 
 out the light so you can see better. Isn't that beautiful? " 
 
 She switched off the lights and the stranger drew near 
 apathetically, gazing out into the beauty of the moonlight 
 as it touched the houses half hidden in the trees and vines, 
 and flooded the Valley stretching far away to the feet of 
 the tall dark mountains. 
 
 " I hate mountains ! " shuddered Opal, " They make 
 me afraid! I almost ran over a precipice when I was 
 coming here yesterday. If I have to go back that same 
 way I shall take Laurie, or if he won't go I'll cajole that 
 stunning prince of yours if you don't mind. I loathe being 
 alone. That's why I ran down here to see Laurie ! " 
 
 But Lynn had switched on the lights and turned from 
 the window. Her face was cold and her voice hard : 
 
 " Suppose we go to bed," she said, " will you have the 
 bed next the window or the door? And what shall I get 
 for you? Have you everything? See, here is the bath- 
 room. Father and mother had it built for me for my 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 173 
 
 birthday. And the furniture is some of mother's grand- 
 mother's. They had it done over for me." 
 
 "It's really a dandy room ! " said Opal admiringly, " I 
 hadn't expected to find anything like this," she added with- 
 out seeming to know she was patronizing. " You are the 
 only child, aren't you? Your father and mother just dote 
 on you too. That must be nice. We had a whole houseful 
 at home, three girls and two boys, and after father lost 
 his money and had to go to a sanitarium we had frightful 
 times, never any money to buy anything, the girls always 
 fighting over who should have silk stockings, and mother 
 crying every night when we learned to smoke. Of course 
 mother was old fashioned. I hated to have her weeping 
 around all the time, but all our set smoked and what could 
 I do? So I just took the first good chance to get married 
 and got out of it all. And Ed isn't so bad. Lots of men 
 are worse. And he gives me all the money I want. One 
 thing the girls don't have to fight over silk stockings and 
 silk petticoats any more ? I send them all they want. And 
 I manage to get my good times in now and then too. But 
 tell me, what in the world do you do in this sleepy little 
 town? Don't you get bored to death? I should think 
 you'd get your father to move to the city. There must be 
 plenty of churches where a good looking minister like 
 your father could get a much bigger salary than out in the 
 country like this. When I get back to New York I'll send 
 for you to visit me and show you a real good time. I 
 suppose you've never been to cabarets and eaten theatre 
 suppers, and seen a real New York good time. Why, last 
 winter I had an affair that was talked of in the papers for 
 days. I had the whole lower floor decorated as a wood you 
 know, with real trees set up, and mossy banks, and a brook 
 running through it all. It took days for the plumbers to 
 get the fittings in, and then they put stones in the bottom, 
 and gold fish, and planted violets on the banks and all 
 
174 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 kinds of ferns and lilies of the valley, everywhere there 
 were flowers blossoming so the guests could pick as many 
 as they wanted. The stream was deep enough to float little 
 canoes, and they stopped in grottoes for champagne, and 
 when they came to a shallow place they had to get out and 
 take off their shoes and stockings and wade in the brook. 
 On the opposite bank a maid was waiting with towels. 
 The ladies sat down on the bank and their escorts had to 
 wipe their feet and help them on with their shoes and 
 stockings again, and you ought to have heard the shouts 
 of laughter! It certainly was a great time! Upstairs in 
 the ball room we had garden walks all about, with all kinds 
 of flowers growing, and real birds flying around, and the 
 walls were simply covered with American beauty roses 
 and wonderful climbers, in such bowers that the air was 
 heavy with perfume. The flowers alone cost thousands — 
 What^s the matter? Did you hear something fall? You 
 startled me, jumping up like that ! You're nervous aren't 
 you? Don't you think music makes people nervous?" 
 
 Marilyn smiled pathetically, and dropped back to the 
 edge of her bed : 
 
 " Pardon me," she said, " I was just in one of my 
 tempers again. I get them a lot but I'm trying to control 
 them. I happened to think of the little babies I saw in 
 the tenement districts when I was in New York last. Did 
 you ever go there? They wear one little garment, and 
 totter around in the cold street trying to play, with no 
 stockings, and shoes out at the toes. Sometimes they 
 haven't enough to eat, and their mothers are so wretchedly 
 poor and sorrowful — ! " 
 
 " Mercy ! " shuddered Opal, " How morbid you are ! 
 What ever did you go to a place like that for ? I always 
 keep as far away from unpleasant things as I can. I cross 
 the street if I see a blind beggar ahead. I just loathe 
 misery! But however did you happen to think of 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 175 
 
 them when I was telling you about my beautiful ball 
 room decorations ? " 
 
 Lynn twinkled : 
 
 "I guess you wouldn't understand me," she said slowly, 
 " but I was thinking of all the good those thousands of 
 dollars would have done if they had been spent on babies 
 and not on flowers.'' 
 
 " Gracious ! " said Opal. " I hate babies ! Ed is crazy 
 about them, and would like to have the house full, but I 
 gave him to understand what I thought about that before 
 we were married." 
 
 " I love babies," said Marilyn. " They want me to go 
 this Fall and do some work in that settlement, and I'm con- 
 sidering it. If it only weren't for leaving father and 
 mother again — but I do love the babies and the little chil- 
 dren, I want to gather them all and do so many things for 
 them. You know they are all God's babies, and it seems 
 pitiful for them to have to be in such a dreadful world as 
 some of them have ! " 
 
 "Oh, God!" shuddered Opal quite openly now, 
 " Don't talk about God! / hate God! He's just killed one 
 of my best men friends! I v/ish you wouldn't talk 
 about God!" 
 
 Marilyn looked at her sadly, contemplatively, and then 
 twitched her mouth into a little smile: 
 
 " We're not getting on very well, are we ? I don't like 
 your costly entertainments, and you don't like my best 
 Friend ! I'm sorry. I must seem a little prude to you I'm 
 afraid, but really, God is not what you think. You 
 wouldn't hate Him, you would love Him, — if you 
 knew Him." 
 
 " Fancy knowing God — as you would your other 
 friends ! How dreadfid! Let's go to bed ! " 
 
 Opal began to get out her lovely brushes and toilet 
 paraphernalia and Lynn let down her wonderful golden 
 
176 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 mane and began to brush it, looking exquisite in a little 
 blue dimity kimona delicately edged with' Valenciennes. 
 Opal made Herself radiant in a rose-chiffon and old-point 
 negligee and went through numerous gyrations relating 
 to the complexion, complaining meanwhile of the lack of 
 a maid. 
 
 But after the lights were out, and Lynn kneeling 
 silently by her bed in the moonlight. Opal lay on the other 
 bed and watched her wonderingly, and when a few minutes 
 later, Marilyn rose softly and crept into bed as quietly as 
 possible lest she disturb her guest. Opal spoke : 
 
 " I wonder what you would do if a man — the man you 
 liked best in all the world, — had got killed doing something 
 to please you. It makes you go crazy when you think of 
 it — someone youVe danced with lying dead that way all 
 alone. I wonder what you'd do! " 
 
 Lynn brought her mind back from her own sorrows 
 and prayers with a jerk to the problem of this strange 
 guest. She did not answer for a moment, then she said 
 very slowly: 
 
 ** I think — I don't know — but I think I should go right 
 to God and ask Him what to do. I think nobody else 
 could show what ought to be done. There wouldn't be 
 anything else to do ! " 
 
 " Oh, murder! '' said Opal turning over in bed quickly, 
 and hiding her face in the pillow, and there was in the 
 end of her breath just the suggestion of a shriek of fear. 
 
 But far, far into the night Marilyn lay on her sleepless 
 pillow, her heart crying out to God : " Oh, save Mark ! 
 Take care of Mark! Show him the way back again!" 
 
 Afar in the great city a message stole on a wire through 
 the night, and presently the great presses were hot with 
 its import, printing thousands and thousands of extras for 
 early morning consumption, with headlines in enormous 
 letters across the front page : 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 177 
 
 LAURENCE SHAFTON, SON OF WILLIAM 
 J. SHAFTON, KIDNAPPED!" 
 
 ** Mrs Shafton is lying in nervous collapse as the result 
 of threats from kidnappers who boldly called her up on 
 the phone and demanded a king's ransom, threatening 
 death to the son if the plot was revealed before ten o'clock 
 this morning. The faithful mother gathered her treasures 
 which included the famous Shafton Emeralds, and a string 
 of pearls worth a hundred thousand dollars, and let them 
 down from her window as directed, and then fainted, 
 knowing nothing more till her maid hearing her fall, 
 rushed into the room and found her unconscious. When 
 roused she became hysterical and told what had happened. 
 .Then remembering the threat of death for telling ahead of 
 time she became crazy with grief, and it was almost im- 
 possible to soothe her. The maid called her family 
 physician,explaining all she knew, and the matter was at 
 once put into the hands of capable detectives who are 
 doing all they know how to locate the missing son, who 
 has been gone only since Saturday evening; and also to 
 find the missing jewels and other property, and it is hoped 
 that before evening the young man will be found." 
 
 Meantime, Laurence Shafton slept soundly and late in 
 the minister's study, and knew nothing of the turmoil and 
 sorrow of his doting family. 
 
 12 
 
XVI 
 
 Though Mark had scarcely slept at all the night before 
 he was on hand long before the city-bred youth was awake, 
 taking apart the big machine that stood in front of the 
 parsonage. Like a skillful physician he tested its various 
 valves and compartments, went over its engine carefully, 
 and came at last to the seat of the trouble which the min- 
 ister had diagnosed the night before. 
 
 Lynn with dark circles under her eyes had wakened 
 early and slipped down to the kitchen to help her mother 
 and the little maid of all work who lived down the street 
 and was a member of the Sunday School and an important 
 part of the family. It was Naomi who discovered the 
 young mechanic at the front door. There was not much 
 that Naomi did not see. She announced his presence to 
 Marilyn as she was filling the salt cellars for breakfast. 
 Marilyn looked up startled, and met her mother's eyes full 
 of comfort and reassurance. Somehow when Mark came 
 quietly about in that helpful way of his it was impossible 
 not to have the old confidence in him, the old assurance 
 that all would soon be right, the old explanation that Mark 
 was always doing something quietly for others and never 
 taking care for himself. Marilyn let her lips relax into a 
 smile and went about less heavy of heart. Surely, surely, 
 somehow, Mark would clear himself of these awful things 
 that were being said about him. Surely the day would 
 bring forth a revelation. And Mark's action last night 
 when he refused to speak with her, refused to let her touch 
 his arm, and called himself unworthy was all for her sake ; 
 all because he did not want her name sullied with a breath 
 of the scandal that belonged to him. Mark would be that 
 178 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 179 
 
 way. He would protect her always, even though he did 
 not belong to her, even though he were not her friend. 
 
 She was almost cheerful again, when at last the dal- 
 lying guests appeared for a late breakfast. Mark was still 
 working at the car, filing something with long steady 
 grinding noises. She had seen him twice from the win- 
 dow, but she did not venture out. Mark had not wished 
 her to speak to him, she would not go against his wish, — 
 at least not now — ^not until the guests were out of the way. 
 That awful girl should have no further opportunity to say 
 things to her about Mark. She would keep out of his way 
 until they were gone. Oh, pray that the car would be 
 fixed and they pass on their way at once ! Later, if there 
 were opportunity, she would find a way to tell Mark that 
 he should not refuse her friendship. What was friendship 
 if it could not stand the strain of falsehood and gossip, 
 and even scandal if necessary. She was not ashamed to 
 let Mark know she would be his friend forever. There 
 was nothing unmaidenly in that. Mark would under- 
 stand her. Mark had always understood her. And so she 
 cheered her heavy heart through the breakfast hour, and 
 the foolish jesting of the two that sounded to her anxious 
 ears, in the language of scripture, like the "crackling 
 of thorns under a pot." 
 
 But at last they finished the breakfast and shoved their 
 chairs back to go and look at the car. Mr. Severn and his 
 wife had eaten long ago and gone about their early morn- 
 ing duties, and it had been Marilyn's duty to do the honors 
 for the guests, so she drew a sign of relief, and, evading 
 Laurie's proffered arm slid into the pantry and let them 
 go alone. 
 
 But when she glanced through the dining-room win- 
 dow a few minutes later as she passed removing the dishes 
 from the table, she saw Mark upon his knees beside the 
 
180 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 car, looking up with his winning smile and talking to Opal, 
 who stood close beside him all attention, with her little boy- 
 attitude, and a wide childlike look in her big effective eyes. 
 Something big and terrible seemed to seize Marilyn's heart 
 with a vise-like grip, and be choking her breath in her 
 throat. She turned quickly, gathered up her pile of dishes 
 and hurried into the pantry, her face white and set, and her 
 eyes stinging with proud unshed tears. 
 
 A few minutes later, dressed in brown riding clothes 
 exquisitely tailored, and a soft brown felt hat, she might 
 have been seen hurrying through the back fence, if any- 
 body had been looking that way, across the Joneses' lot 
 to the little green stable that housed a riding horse that 
 was hers to ride whenever she chose. She had left word 
 with Naomi that she was going to Economy and would be 
 back in time for lunch, and she hoped in her heart that 
 when she returned both of their guests would have de- 
 parted? It was perhaps a bit shabby of her to leave it all 
 on her mother this way, but mother would understand, 
 and very likely be glad. 
 
 So Lynn mounted her little brown horse and rode by a 
 circuitous way, across the creek, and out around the town 
 to avoid passing her own home, and was presently on her 
 way up to the crossroads down which Laurie Shafton had 
 come in tlie dark midnight. 
 
 As she crossed the Highway, she noticed the Detour, 
 and paused an instant to study the peculiar sign, and the 
 partly cleared way around. And while she stood won- 
 dering a car came swiftly up from the Economy way past 
 the Blue Duck Tavern. The driver bowed and smiled and 
 she perceived it was the Chief of Police from Economy, a 
 former resident of Sabbath Valley, and very much re- 
 spected in the community, and with him in the front seat 
 was another uniformed policeman! 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 181 
 
 With a sudden constriction at her heart Marilyn bowed 
 and rode on. Was he going to Sabbath Valley? Was 
 there truth in the rumor that Mark was in trouble ? She 
 looked back to see if he had turned down the Highway, 
 but he halted the car with its nose pointed Sabbath 
 Valle)rward and got out to examine the Detour on the 
 Highway. She rode slowly and turned around several 
 times, but as long as she was in sight his car remained 
 standing pointed toward the Valley. 
 
XVII 
 
 Billy awoke to the light of day with the sound of a 
 strange car going by. The road through Sabbath Valley 
 was not much frequented, and Billy knew every car that 
 usually travelled that way. They were mostly Economy 
 and Monopoly people, and as there happened to be a 
 mountain trolley between the two towns higher up making 
 a circuit to touch at Brooktown, people seldom came this 
 way. Therefore at the unusual sound Billy was on the alert 
 at once. One movement brought him upright with his feet 
 upon the floor blinking toward his window, a second car- 
 ried him to shelter behind the curtain where he could see 
 the stranger go by. 
 
 Billy had reduced the science of dressing to a fine 
 degree. He could climb into the limited number of sum- 
 mer garments in less time than any boy in the community, 
 and when he saw that the car had halted just above the 
 house and that the driver was interviewing Jim Rafferty, 
 he reached for a handful of garments, and began to climb, 
 keeping one eye out the window for developments. Was 
 that or was it not the Chief's car out there? If it was 
 what did it want? 
 
 Billy was in socks, trousers and shirt by the time the 
 car began to puff again for starting, and he stove his feet 
 into his old shoes and dove down stairs three steps at a 
 stride and out the door where he suddenly became a casual 
 observer of the day. 
 
 " Hullo, Billy! That you? " accosted the Chief driving 
 slowly down the street, " Say, Billy, you haven't seen 
 Mark Carter, have you ? They said he had gone down to 
 the blacksmith's to get something fixed for a car. I 
 thought perhaps you'd seen him go by." 
 
 Billy shook his head lazily : 
 
 182 
 
 r 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 183 
 
 " Nope," he said, " I've been busy this morning. He 
 mighta gone by." 
 
 "Well I'll just drive down and see! " The car started 
 on and turned into the Lane that led to the black- 
 smith shop. 
 
 Billy dove into the house, made short work of his 
 ablutions, gave his hair a brief lick with the brush, col- 
 lected his cap and sweater, bolted the plate of breakfast 
 Aunt Saxon had left on the back of the stove when she 
 we;it away for her regular Monday's wash, and was ready 
 behind the lilac bush with old trusty, down on his knees 
 oiling her ^ bit, when the Chief drove back with Mark 
 Carter in the back seat looking strangely white and 
 haughty, but talking affably with the Chief. 
 
 His heart sank. Somehow he knew something was 
 wrong with Mark. Mark was in his old clothes with sev- 
 eral pieces of iron in his hand as if he hadn't taken time to 
 lay them down. Billy remained in hiding and watched 
 while the Chief's car stopped at Carter's and Mark got out. 
 The car waited several minutes, and then Mark came out 
 with his good clothes on and his best hat, and got into the 
 car and they drove off, Mark looking stern and white. 
 Billy shot out from his hiding and mounting his steed flew 
 down the road, keeping well behind the maples and hedges, 
 and when the Chief's car stopped in front of the parsonage 
 he dismounted and stepped inside Joneses' drive to listen. 
 Mark got out, sprang up the steps, touched the bell, and 
 said to someone who appeared at the door, " Mr. Shafton, 
 I'm sorry, but I'll not be able to get those bearings fixed up 
 to-day. The blacksmith doesn't seem to have anything 
 that will do. I find I have to go over to Economy on busi- 
 ness, and I'll look around there and see if anybody has 
 any. I expect to be back by twelve o'clock, and will you 
 tell the lady that I will be ready to start at half -past if that 
 will suit her. I am sure we shall have plenty of time to get 
 
184 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 her to Beechwood by five or sooner. If anything occurs 
 to keep me from going I'll telephone you in an hour, so 
 that she can make other arrangements. Thank you, Mr. 
 Shafton. Sorry I couldn't fix you up right away, but I'll 
 look after the lady for you." Mark hurried back to the 
 car again and they drove off. 
 
 Billy escorted the Department of Justice distantly, as 
 far as the Crossing at the Highway, from which eminence 
 he watched until he saw that they stopped at the Blue 
 Duck Tavern for a few minutes, after which they went on 
 toward Economy; then he inspected the recent clearing of 
 his detour, obviously by the Chief, and hurried down the 
 Highway toward the railroad Crossing at Pleasant View. 
 It was almost train time, and he had a hunch that there 
 might be something interesting around that hidden tele- 
 phone. If he only had had more time he might have 
 arranged to tap the wire and listen in without having to 
 go so near, but he must do the best he could. 
 
 When he reached a point on the Highway where 
 Pleasant View station was easily discernible he dis- 
 mounted, parked his wheel among the huckleberries, and 
 slid into the green of the Valley. Stealing cautiously to 
 the scene of the Saturday night hold-up he finally suc- 
 ceeded in locating the hidden telephone, and creeping into 
 a well screened spot not far away arranged himself com- 
 fortably to wait till the trains came. He argued that Pat 
 would likely come down to report or get orders about the 
 same time as before, and so in the stillness of the morning 
 he lay on the ground and waited. He could hear a song 
 sparrow high up on the telegraph wire, sing out its wild 
 sweet lonely strain : Sweet — sweetsweetsweet — sweetsweet 
 — sweetsweet — ! and a hum of bees in the wild grape 
 that trailed over the sassafras trees. Beside him a little 
 wood spider stole noiselessly on her busy way. But his 
 heart was heavy with new burdens and he could not take 
 
THE CITY OP FIRE 185 
 
 his usual rhapsodic joy in the things of Nature. What 
 was happening to Mark and what could he do about it? 
 Perhaps Mark would have been better off if he had left 
 him in the old house on Stark's mountain. The chief 
 couldn't have found him then and the kidnappers would 
 have kept him safe for a good many days till they got 
 some money. But there wouldn't have been any money! 
 For Mark wasn't the right man! And the kidnappers 
 would have found it out pretty soon and what would they 
 have done to Mark? Killed him perhaps so they wouldn't 
 get into any more trouble ! There was no telling ! And 
 time would have gone on and nobody would have known 
 what had become of Mark. And the murder trial — if it 
 was really a murder — would come off and they couldn't 
 find Mark, and of course they would think Mark had 
 killed the man and then run away. And Mark would never 
 be able to come home again ! No, he was glad Mark was 
 out and safe and free from dope. At least Mark would 
 know what to do to save himself. Or would he ? Billy sud- 
 denly had his doubts. Would Mark take care of himself, 
 just himself, or not? Mark was always looking after 
 other people, but he had somehow always let people say 
 and do what they would with him. Aw gee ! Now Mark 
 wouldn't let them locate a thing like a murder on him, 
 would he? And there was Miss Lynn! And Mark's 
 mother! Mark oughtta think of them. Well, maybe he 
 wouldn't realize how much they did care. Billy had a sud- 
 den revelation that maybe that was half the matter, Mark 
 didn't know how much any of them cared. Back in his 
 mind there was an uncomfortable memory of Aunt 
 Saxon's pink damp features and anxious eyes and a pos- 
 sible application of the same principle to his own life, as in 
 the case of Judas. But he wasn't considering himself now. 
 There might come a time when he would have to change 
 his tactics with regard to Aunt Saxon somewhat. She 
 
186 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 certainly had been a good sport last night. But this wasn't 
 the time to consider that. He had a great deal more im- 
 portant matters to think of now. He had to find out how 
 he could make it perfectly plain to the world that Mark 
 Carter had not shot a man after twelve o'clock Saturday 
 night at the Blue Duck Tavern. And as yet he didn't see 
 any way without incriminating himself as a kidnapper. 
 This cut deep because in the strict sense of the word he 
 was not a kidnapper, because he hadn't meant to be a 
 kidnapper. He had only meant to play a joke on the kid- 
 nappers, and at worst his only really intended fault had 
 been the putting up of that detour on the Highway. But 
 he had an uncomfortable conviction that he wouldn't be 
 able to make the Chief and the Constable, and some of 
 those people over at Economy Court House see it that way. 
 As matters stood he was safe if he kept his mouth shut. 
 Nobody knew but Mark, and he didn't know the details. 
 Besides, Mark would never tell. Mark would even go to 
 trial for murder before he would let himself out by telling 
 on Billy, Billy knew that as well as he knew that the old 
 mountain on whose feet he lay stretched now would stand 
 up there for ages and always keep his secret for him. Mark 
 was that way. That was why it made it worse for Billy. 
 Judas again ! Billy was surprised to find how much Judas- 
 blood there seemed to be in him. He lay there and despised 
 himself without being able to help himself out or think of 
 an3^hing he could do. And then quite suddenly as he was 
 going over the whole circumstance from the time he first 
 listened to Pat's message into the moss of the mountain, 
 until now, the name Shaft on came to him. Laurence 
 Shafton. Shaft on, son of William J., of Gates and 
 Shaft on. Those were the words the telephone had 
 squeaked out quite plainly. And Shafton. Mr. 
 Shafton. That was the name Mark had called the guy 
 with the car at the parsonage. Mr. Shafton. The same 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 187 
 
 guy, of course. Bah ! What a mess he had made of it all. 
 Got Mark kidnapped, landed that sissy-guy on the Severns 
 for no knowing how long, and perhaps helped to tangle 
 Mark up in a murder case. Aw Gee! There's the train! 
 What could he do? That rich guy! Well, there wasn't 
 anything to that. He would get out as soon as Mark got 
 his car fixed up and never know he had been kidnapped. 
 And what was he, Billy, waiting here for anyway? Just 
 a chance ! Just to see whether Pat and Sam had found out 
 yet that their quarry had vanished. Just to wonder what 
 had become of Link and Shorty. 
 
 The trains came and went, and the hush settled down 
 once more at the station. From where he lay, hidden 
 under a ledge, with a thick growth of laurel and sumac 
 between him and the world, Billy could not see the station 
 platform, and had no means of telling whether Pat was 
 about or not. 
 
 He had lain still a long time and was beginning to think 
 that his trip had been in vain, when he heard a soft 
 crackling of the twigs above him, a heavy tread crashing 
 through the bushes, a puffing snorting breath from the 
 porpoise-like Pat, and he held his own breath and lay very 
 still. Suppose Pat should take a new trail and discover 
 his hiding place ? His heart pounded with great dull thuds. 
 But Pat slid heavily down to the little clearing below 
 him, fumbled a moment with his key, and then in a gruff 
 guarded voice called : 
 
 " Hullo! Hullo! Sam? That you? Yes, aw'right! Yes, 
 aw'right ! How's things ? What ? Hell's to pay ? Whaddaya 
 mean hell ? Ain't you gonta put it over ? After all my trouble 
 you ain't a gonta let that million slip through? What? Oh! 
 Who ? The Valet ? He's beat it, has he ? Whaddaya mean ? 
 He took 'em? He took the pearls an' diamonds? Well, 
 Em'ruls then! What's tha diffrunce? We ain't gottum 
 have we ? Oh, bonds too ! Well, whattya gonta do about 
 
188 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 it? Move him? What, the rich guy? Move him where? 
 Why? We ain'ta gonta run no more risks. Link an' 
 Shorty are sore 'za pup when they come. I don't think 
 they'll Stan' for it. Well, where'll ya move him? Who? 
 Shorty? Oh, Link? Both? Well, I ain't seen 'em. I tol' 
 ^em to keep good an' far away from me. I don't build 
 on loosin' this job just now. See? What? It's in the 
 papers a'ready? You don't say! Well, who you figger 
 done that ? That Valet ? Well, where's the harm ? Can't 
 you work it all the better ? We got the guy, ain't we ? He 
 ain't gottim that's certain. We c'n deliver the goods, so 
 we get the reward. How much reward they offerin ? You 
 don't say! Well, I should say, get in yer work soon 'fore 
 we get caught. Aw' right! I'm with ya. Well, s'long! 
 I'll be down here at nine sharp. Take a trip to China with 
 ya next week ef ya pull it off. Aw'right! Goobby! " and 
 Pat hung up and puffed his way up the hill again, leaving 
 Billy drenched with perspiration and filled with vague 
 plans, and deep anxiety. He had got a clue but what good 
 was it? How could he work it to the salvation of Mark? 
 He could easily put the sissy over at the parsonage wise, 
 do him a good turn, save his dad some money, but what 
 good would that do Mark? Mark needed to establish an 
 alibi, he could see that with half an eye, but how would 
 anything Billy knew help that along unless — unless he told 
 on himself? For a moment a long trail of circumstances 
 that would surely follow such a sacrificial ordinance ap- 
 peared before him and burned into his soul, most 
 prominent among them being Aunt Saxon, hard worked 
 and damp-pink-eyed, crying her heart out for the boy she 
 had tried faithfully to bring up. And Miss Lynn. How 
 sad her eyes would grow if Billy had to be tried and sen- 
 tenced to prison. Not that Billy was afraid to go to 
 prison, in fact the throught of it as an experience was 
 rather exhilirating than not, but he was afraid to have 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 189 
 
 those two know he had gone, afraid of their eyes, their 
 sad eyes ! Yes, and he was afraid of the thought of his 
 own ingratitude, for down deep in his heart he could see 
 a long line of things Aunt Saxon had done for him that she 
 hadn't been obliged to do. Going without a new winter 
 coat to get him an overcoat. His old one was warm, but 
 his arms were out of it too far and he wouldn't wear it. 
 Sitting up nights the time he drank swamp water and 
 had the fever! That was fierce! How he did rag her! 
 And how patienty she bore it ! The scare she had when 
 the dog bit him! As if a little dog bite was anything! 
 Doggone it, why were women such fools ! 
 
 And now this! Billy sat up with a jerk and shook 
 himself free from the dead moss and leaves, wending his 
 way sulkily across to where he had left his wheel, and 
 ponder ing-pohdering. " Shaft on ! " There ought to be 
 something there to work on, but there wasn't ! 
 
 Meantime Maril3ni rode hard down the way to 
 Economy, not slowing her pony till they reached the out- 
 skirts of Economy. Her mind was in such a tumult that 
 she felt as if she were being whirled on with circumstances 
 without having a will to choose one thing from another. 
 Mark! The unwelcome guests! Mark and Opal! Mark 
 and Cherry! Cherry! The Chief of PoHce ! Mark! And 
 yes. Cherry ! She was on her way to see Cherry! But what 
 was she going to do when she got there, and how was she 
 to excuse her strange visit after almost five years since 
 she had seen the child? If there was truth in the rumor 
 that she was connected with a shooting affair at the Blue 
 Duck, and especially if there was truth in the charge that 
 Mark had been going with her, would it not seem strange 
 — perhaps be misconstrued by Cherry? By her family? 
 They had all known of her own intimacy with Mark in the 
 past. She shrank from the idea. Yet Marilyn Severn 
 
190 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 had not been brought up to regard public opinion when 
 it was a question of doing something that ought to be done. 
 The only question was, was it really something that ought 
 to be done or was she letting Billy influence her unduly? 
 Billy was shrewd. He knew Mark. He knew a lot more 
 than he ever told. What did Billy know ? How she wished 
 she had asked her father's advise before coming, and yet, 
 if she had, he might have been unduly influenced by dread- 
 ing to have her put herself in the position of prying into 
 the matter. 
 
 As she rode and pondered she came near to the little 
 house on the village street where Qierry lived, a house set 
 out plumb with the sidewalk, and a little gate at the side 
 to go round to the back door where the family lived, 
 the front room being the tailor shop. As she drew near 
 she looked up and was sure she saw Cherry in a short 
 narrow skirt and an old middy blouse scurrying through 
 the gate to the back door, and her heart thumped so hard 
 she was almost tempted to ride on to the store first before 
 making her call. But something in her that always held 
 her to a task until it was completed forced her to dismount 
 and knock at the door. 
 
 It seemed long to wait with her heart thumping so, 
 and why did it thump? She found herself praying, " O 
 God, show me what to say ! " and then the door was open a 
 crack and a sharp wizened face with a striking resemblance 
 to Cherry's bold little beauty, was thrust at her. It must 
 be Cherry's mother. Of course it was ! 
 
 " Mr. Fenner ain't in the shop ! " said the woman, 
 " He can't do nothin to-day. He's sick 1 " 
 
 Marilyn smiled: 
 
 "But I wanted to see Cherry," she said, " Aren't you 
 her mother? Don't you remember me? I'm Marilyn 
 Severn, her old music teacher. Is Cherry in? " 
 
 A frightened look passed over the woman's face as she 
 
THE CITY OF FIEE 191 
 
 scanned the sweet face before her, and then a wily ex- 
 pression darted into her eyes : 
 
 " Oh," she said with a forced smirk, " Yes, Miss 
 Marilyn. Excuse me fer not recognizing you. YouVe 
 grown a lot. Why no, Cherry ain't at home this morning. 
 She'll be awful sorry not to see you. She thought a lot 
 of you, she did. She got on so well with you in her music 
 too. I says to her the other day, I says Cherry, I hear Miss 
 Marilyn is home again, you'll have to take up yer music 
 again, and she says yes, she guessed she would. She'll 
 be round some day to see you. Sorry I can't ask you in, 
 but Mr. Fenner's pretty sick. Oh, just the grip I guess. 
 He'll soon be all right." 
 
 She began to realize that the woman was in a hurry to 
 get rid of her and she hastened away, relieved yet puzzled 
 at the whole affair. She rode down into the village me- 
 chanically and bought a spool of silk and the coffee strainer 
 which had been her legitimate errand to the village, and 
 turning back had scarcely passed the last house before she 
 saw the Chief's car coming toward her, and Mark, his face 
 white and haggard, looking out from the back seat. He 
 drew back as he recognized her, and tried to hide, and she 
 rode on with only a passing bow which comprehended the 
 whole car; but she was aware of Mark's eyes upon her, 
 steadily, watching her. She would have known he was 
 watching her from the darkness of the back seat if her own 
 eyes had been shut. What was it all about and what were 
 they doing to Mark I 
 
XVIII 
 
 The last house in the village on the road to Economy 
 was the Harricutt's. It was built of gray cement blocks 
 that the elder had taken for a bad debt, and had neither 
 vine nor blossom to soften its grimness. Its windows were 
 supplied with green holland shades, and its front door- 
 yard was efficiently manned with plum trees and a peach, 
 while the back yard was given over to vegetables. Elder 
 Harricutt walked to Economy every day to his office in 
 the Economy bank. He said it kept him in good condition 
 physically. His wife was small and prim with little quick 
 prying eyes and a false front that had a tendency to go 
 askew. She wore bonnets with strings and her false teeth 
 didn't quite fit; they clicked as she talked. She kept a 
 watch over the road at all times and very little ever got by 
 her unnoticed. 
 
 In wholesome contrast next door was the trim little 
 white cottage where Tom McMertrie and his mother 
 Christie lived, smothered in vines and ablaze with ger- 
 aniums all down the front walk. And below that, almost 
 facing the graveyard was a little green shingled bungalow. 
 Mary Rafferty kept her yard aglow with phlox, verbenas 
 and pansies, and revelled in vines and flowering shrubs. 
 
 These two women were wonderful friends, though 
 forty years marched between them. Mary's hair was black 
 as a crow's wing above her great pansy-blue eyes with 
 their long curHng lashes, while Christie's hair was sandy 
 silver and her tongue full of brrrs. They had opposite 
 pantry windows on the neighboring sides of their houses, 
 where they often talked of a morning while Christie 
 moulded her sweet loaves of bread or mixed scones and 
 Mary made tarts and pies and cake for Jim's supper. 
 
 192 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 19S 
 
 Somehow without much being said about it they had 
 formed a combination against their hard Httle knot of a 
 neighbor behind the holland shades. 
 
 The first house on the side street that ran at right angles 
 to the main thoroughfare, just below Rafferty's, was Dun- 
 cannon's. A picket fence at the side let into the vegetable 
 gardens of the three, and the quiet little Mrs. Duncannon 
 w^ith the rippley brown hair and soft brown eyes often 
 slipped through and made a morning call under cover of 
 the kindly pole beans that hid her entrances and exits per- 
 fectly from any green holland shaded windows that might 
 be open that way. Jane Duncannon formed a third in 
 this little combination. 
 
 On the Monday morning following the session meeting 
 Mary Rafferty and Christie McMertrie were at their re- 
 spective pantry windows flinging together some toothsome 
 delicacies for the evening meal, that all might move 
 smoothly during the busy day. 
 
 A neat line of flopping clothes glimmered in each back 
 yard over the trim " green " that stretched across in front 
 of the back door, and the irons were on in both kitchens 
 preparing for a finish as soon as a " piece " should show 
 signs of dry. 
 
 " Hev ye haird whut the extra session meetin' was 
 called for, Mary?" asked the older woman looking up 
 from her mixing bowl. " Tom went to the mill to tak 
 the place of the noight watchman. His feyther's dyin' ye 
 ken, and Tom's not come by yet. I thot ye might 
 hev haird." 
 
 Mary lifted her eyes with troubled glance : 
 
 " Not yet," she said, " but I'm thinkin of running over 
 to Duncannons as soon as I get these pies in the oven. 
 The clothes won't be dry for a while, an' I'll take my pan 
 of peas to shell. She'll know of course. Maybe it's 
 nothing much, — ^but Jim said they held up Mark Carter 
 
 13 
 
194 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 and made him come in. It was ten minutes of ten before 
 he got away — ! You don't suppose anybody's taken the 
 gossip to the session do you?" 
 
 " There's one we know well would be full cawpable of 
 the same," affirmed Christie patting her biscuits into place 
 and tucking the bread cloth deftly over them, "But I'd 
 be sorry to see a meenister an' a session as wud be held up 
 by one poor whimperin' little elder of the like of him." 
 
 " Mr. Severn won't, I'm sure o' that ! " said Mary 
 trustingly, " but there comes Mrs. Duncannon now, I'll run 
 over and see what's in the wind." 
 
 Mrs. Duncannon had grown a smile on her gentle face 
 that was hke as two peas to her husband's wide kindly 
 grin, but there was no smile on her face this morning as 
 she greeted her two friends, and dropped into a chair by 
 the door of Christie's immaculate kitchen, and her soft 
 brown eyes were snapping : She had an air of carrying 
 kindly mysterious explosives : 
 
 " Did ye hear that the old ferret held up Mark Carter 
 last night and as good as called him a murderer in the face 
 of the whole session ? " she asked breathlessly. 
 
 " And whut said our meenister to thot ? " in- 
 quired Christie. 
 
 Jane Duncannon flashed her a twinkle of appreciation : 
 
 "He just clapped the senior elder in the chair as neat as 
 a pin in a pincushion an' moved an expression of confi- 
 dence, w^mo^r confidence was the word — ! " 
 
 " Mmmmmmmm ! I thot as much ! " commented 
 Christie, " The blessed mon ! " 
 
 "Oh, I'm so glad!" sighed Mary Rafferty sinking 
 into a chair, " Jim thinks the sun rises and sets in Mark 
 Carter. They were kids together you know. He says 
 people don't know Mark. And he said if they turned Mark 
 down at the church now, if they didn't stand by him in 
 his trouble, he had no more use for their religion ! " 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 195 
 
 V 
 
 " Don't you believe it, Mary Rafferty ! Jim Rafferty 
 loves the very ground the meenister walks on ! " 
 
 "What was that?" exclaimed Jane Duncannon run- 
 ning to the side window. " A strange car ! Mary, come 
 here! Is that the Chief of Police from Economy? " 
 
 Mary darted to the window followed by the 
 elder woman: 
 
 " Yes, it is ! " she exclaimed drawing back aghast, 
 *' You don't suppose he's going to Carter's? He wouldn't 
 do that would he ?" 
 
 " He huz to do his dooty, doesnt he? " mused Christie, 
 " But thot's not say in' he hikes it, child ! " 
 
 " Well, he might find a way not to frighten 
 his mother — ! " 
 
 Mrs. Duncannon stretched her neck to see if he was 
 really stopping at the parsonage, and Christie murmured : 
 "Perhaps he will.'^ 
 
 The little group lingered a moment, till Mary be- 
 thought her of her pies in the oven and the three drifted 
 thriftily back to their morning tasks, albeit with mind and 
 heart down in the village. 
 
 Presently on the glad morning air sounded again the 
 chug chug of the motor, bringing them sharply back to 
 their windows. Yes, there was the Chief's car again. And 
 Mark Carter with white haggard face sat in the back seat ! 
 Apprehension flew to the soul of each loyal woman. 
 
 But before the sound of the Chief's motor bearing 
 Mark Carter Economyward had passed out of hearing, 
 Jane Duncannon in a neat brown dress with a little round 
 brown ribboned hat set trimly on her rippley hair, and a 
 little round basket on her arm covered daintily with a 
 white napkin, was nipping out her tidy front gate between 
 the sunflowers and asters and tripping down Maple 
 street as if it had been on her mind to go ever since 
 Saturday night. 
 
 Even before Mary Rafferty had turned from her Not- 
 
196 THE CITY OF FIBE 
 
 tingham laced parlor window and gone with swift steps to 
 her kitchen door Christie McMertrie stood on her back 
 step with her sunbonnet on and a glass of jelly wrapped in 
 tissue paper in her hand: 
 
 " She's glimpsed 'em," she whispered briefly, with a 
 nod toward the holland shades, " an' she's up in her side 
 bedroom putt in' on her Sunday bunnit. She'll be oot the 
 door in another two meenits, the little black crow ! If we 
 bide in the fields we can mak Carters' back stoop afore she 
 gets much past the tchurch ! " 
 
 Mary Rafferty caught up her pan of peas, dashed them 
 into a basket that hung on the wall by the door, and bare- 
 headed as she was hastened out through the garden after 
 her friend for all the world as if she were going to pick 
 more peas. Down the green lane between the bean poles 
 they hurried through the picket gate, pushing aside the big 
 gray Duncannon cat who basked in the sun under a pink 
 hollyhock with a Duncannon smile on its gray whiskers 
 like the rest of the family. 
 
 " Jane ! Jane Duncannon ! " called Christie McMertrie. 
 But the hollow echoes in the tidy kitchen flung back 
 emptily, and the plate of steaming cinnamon buns on the 
 white scrubbed table spoke as plainly as words could have 
 done that no one was at home. 
 
 "She's gone!" ^ 
 
 The two hurried around the house, tlirough the front 
 gate, across the street with a quick glance up and down to 
 be sure that the Petrie babies playing horse in the next 
 yard were their only observers, and then ducking under 
 the bars of the fence they scuttled down a slope, crossed 
 a trickle of a brook that hurried creekward, and up the 
 opposite bank. Behind Little's barn they paused to glance 
 back. Some one was coming out the^ Harricutt door, some 
 one wearing a bonnet and a black veil. They hurried on. 
 There were two more fences separating the meadows. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 197 
 
 Mary went over and Christie between. They made quick 
 work of the rest of the way and crept panting through the 
 hedge at the back of Carter's just as Jane Duncannon 
 swung open the Httle gate in front with a glimpse back up 
 the street in triumph and a breath of reHef that she had 
 won. By only so much as a hft of her lashes and a light- 
 ing of her soft brown eyes did she recognize and incor- 
 porate the other two in her errand, and together the three 
 entered the Carter house by the side entrance, with a neigh- 
 borly tap and a call : " Miz Carter, you home ? " 
 
 Quick nervous steps overhead, a muffled voice calling 
 catchily, "Yes, I'm coming, just set down, won't you?" 
 and they dropped into three dining-room chairs and drew 
 breath, mopping their warm faces with their handkerchiefs 
 and trying to adjust their minds to the next move. 
 
 Their hostess gave them no time to prepare a program. 
 She came hurriedly down stairs, obviously anxious, openly 
 with every nerve on the quivive, and they saw at once that 
 she had been crying. Her hair was damp about her fore- 
 head as if from hasty ablution. She looked from one to 
 another of her callers with a frightened glance that went 
 beyond them as if looking for others to come, as she paused 
 in the doorway puzzled. 
 
 " This is a s'prise party, Miz Carter," began Jane Dun- 
 cannon laughing, " We all brought our work along and 
 can't stay but a minute, but we got an idea an' couldn't 
 keep it till Ladies' Aid. You got a minute to spare ? Go 
 get your knitting and set down. Now! It's Miz' Severn's 
 birthday next Sat' day an' we thought 'twould be nice to get 
 her a present. What do you think about it ? " 
 
 Mrs. Carter who had stood tensely in the doorway, 
 her fingers whitely gripping the woodwork, her face 
 growitig whiter every minute, suddenly relaxed with re- 
 lief in every line of her body, and bloomed into a smile : 
 
 " Oh, why, is it? Of course! What'll it be? Why 
 
198 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 couldn't we finish that sunburst bed quilt we started last 
 year while she was away? If we all get at it I think we 
 could finish. There's some real fast quilters in the Aid. 
 Wait, till I get my apples to pare. I promised Mark I'd 
 have apple sauce for lunch ! " 
 
 A quick glance went from eye to eye and a look of 
 relief settled down on the little company. She expected 
 Mark home for lunch then ! 
 
 They were in full tide of talk about the quilting pat- 
 tern when a knock came on the front door, and Mary 
 Rafferty jumped up and ran to open it. They heard the 
 Harricutt voice, clear, sharp, incisive : 
 
 " I came to sympathize — ! " and then as Mary swung 
 her face into the sunlight the voice came suddenly up as 
 against a stone wall with a gasp and " Oh, it's you! 
 Where's Mrs. Carter ? I wish to see Mrs. Carter." 
 
 " She's right back in the dining-room, Mrs. Harricutt. 
 Come on back. We're talking over how to celebrate Miz 
 Severn's birthday. Do you like a straight quilting or 
 diamond, Miz Harricutt:. It's for the sunburst coverlet 
 you know ! " 
 
 " The sunburst coverlet ! " exclaimed Mrs. Harricutt 
 irately, as though somehow it were an indecent subject at 
 such a time as this, but she followed Mary back to the 
 dining-room with a sniff of curiosity. She fairly gasped 
 when she saw Mrs. Carter with her small sensitive face 
 bright with smiles : 
 
 " Just take that chair by the window, Mrs. Harricutt," 
 she said affably, " and excuse me f er not getting up. I've 
 got to get these apples on the fire, for I promised Mark 
 some apple sauce for lunch, and he likes it stone cold." 
 
 Mrs. Harricutt pricked up her ears : 
 
 " Oh, Mark is coming home for lunch then ! " Her 
 voice was cold, sharp, like a steel knife dipped in lemon 
 juice. There was a bit of a curl on the tip of it that made 
 one wince as it went through the soul. Little Mrs. Carter 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 1Q9 
 
 flushed painfully under her sensitive skin, up to the roots 
 of her light hair. She had been pretty in her girlhood, 
 and Mark had her coloring in a stronger way. 
 
 " Oh, yes, he's coming home for lunch," she answered 
 brightly, glad of this much assurance. "And he has to 
 have it early because he has to drive that strange young 
 woman from the parsonage back somewhere down in New 
 Jersey. She came alone by herself yesterday, but the 
 mountain passes sort of scairt her, and she asked Mark to 
 drive back with her." 
 
 " Oh ! " There was a challenge in the tone that called 
 the red to Mrs. Carter's cheek again. But Christie 
 McMertrie's soft burring tongue slid in smoothly : 
 
 " What wad ye think o' the briar pattern around the 
 edge? I know it's some worruk, but it's a bonnie border 
 to lie under, an' it's not so tedious whan there's plenty o' 
 folks to tak a hand." 
 
 They carried the topic along with a whirl then and Mrs. 
 Harricutt had no more chance to harry her hostess. Then 
 suddenly Mary arose in a panic : 
 
 " I left my pies in the oven! " she cried, " They'll be 
 burned to a crisp. I must go. Miz Harricutt, are you 
 going along now? I'll walk with you. I want to ask 
 you how you made that plum jam you gave me a taste of 
 the 9ther day. Jim thinks it is something rare, and I'll 
 have to be making some or he'll never be satisfied, that is if 
 you don't mind — ! " and before Mrs. Carter realized what 
 was happening Mary had marshalled the Harricutt vulture 
 down the street, and was questioning eagerly about meas- 
 ures of sugar and plums and lemon peel and nuts : 
 
 " Now," said Christie setting down her jelly glass that 
 she had been holding all this time, " We'll be ganging awa. 
 There's a bit jar of raspberry jam for the laddie with the 
 bright smile, an' you think it over and run up and say 
 which pattern you think is bonniest." 
 
 " It was just beautiful of you all to come — " said little 
 
200 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Mrs. Carter looking from one to another in painful grati- 
 tude — why it*s been just dear for you to run in this way — " 
 
 " Yes, a regular party ! " said Jane Duncannon squeez- 
 ing her hand with understanding. *' See, Mary has left her 
 peas. You'd best put them on to boil for Mark. He'll 
 be coming back pretty soon. Come, Christie, wumman, 
 it's time we was back at our worruk ! " and they hurried 
 through the hedge and across the meadows to their home 
 once more, but as they entered the Duncannon gate they 
 marked Billy Gaston, head down, pedalling along over 
 on Maple Street, his jaws keeping rhythmic time with 
 his feet. 
 
 One hour later the smooth chug of a car that was not 
 altogether unfamiliar to their ears brought those four 
 women eagerly to their respective windows, and as the old 
 clock chimed the hour of noon they beheld Mark Carter 
 driving calmly down the street toward his own home in his 
 own car. His own car! and Billy Gaston lounging lazily 
 by his side still chewing rhythmically. 
 
 Mark's Car! Mark! Billy! Ah Billy! Three of them 
 mused with a note of triumph in their eyes. 
 
 And Mrs. Harricutt as she rolled her Sunday bonnet 
 strings mused : 
 
 " Now, how in the world did that Mark Carter g<tt his 
 own car down to Economy when he went up with the 
 Chief? He had it down here this morning, I know, for 
 I saw him riding round. And that little imp of a Billy ! I 
 wonder why he always tags him round! Miss Saxon 
 ought to be warned about that ! I'll have to do it ! But 
 how in the world did Mark get his car? " 
 
 Billy enjoyed his lunch that day, a bit of cold chicken 
 and bread, two juicy red cheeked apples, and an unknown 
 quantity of sugary doughnuts from the stone crock in 
 the pantry. He sat on the side step munching the last 
 doughnut he felt he could possibly swallow. Mark was 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 201 
 
 home and all was well. Himself had seen the impressive 
 glance that passed between Mark and the Chief at parting. 
 The Chief trusted Mark that was plain. Billy felt reas- 
 sured. He reflected that that guy Judas had been pre- 
 cipitate about hanging himself. If he had only waited 
 and done a little something about it there might have been 
 a different ending to the story. It was sort of up to Judas 
 anyway, having been the cause of the trouble. 
 
 With this virtuous conclusion Billy wiped the sugar 
 from his mouth, mounted his wheel and went forth to 
 browse in familiar and much neglected pastures. 
 
 He eyed the Carter house as he slid by. Mrs. Carter 
 was placidly shaking out the table cloth on the side porch. 
 Mark had eaten his apple sauce and gone. He passed 
 Browns, Todds, Bateses, chasing a white hen that had some- 
 how escaped her confines, but in front of Joneses he sud- 
 denly became aware of the blue car that stood in front of 
 the parsonage. It had come to life and was throbbing. It 
 ,was backing toward him and going to turn around. On 
 the sidewalk leaning on a cane stood the obnoxious 
 stranger for whose presence in Sabbath Valley he, Billy 
 Gaston, was responsible. He lounged at ease with a 
 smile on his ugly mug and acted as if he lived there ! There 
 was nothing about his appearance to suggest his near 
 departure. His disabled car still stood silent and helpless 
 beside the curb. Aw Gee! 
 
 Billy swerved to the other side of the road to avoid the 
 blue car at a hair's breadth, but as it turned he looked up 
 impudently to behold the strange girl with the flour on 
 her face and the green baseball bats in her ears smiling up 
 in,to the face of Mark Carter, who was driving. Billy 
 nearly fell off his wheel and under the car, but recovered 
 his balance in time to swerve out of the way without ap- 
 parently having been observed by either Mark or the lady, 
 and shot like a streak down the road. Beyond the church 
 
«02 THE CITY OF FIKE 
 
 he drew a wide curve and turned in at the graveyard, cast- 
 ing a quick furtive eye toward the parsonage, where he 
 was glad not to discover even the flutter of a garment to 
 show that Lynn Severn was about. That guy was there, 
 but Miss Lynn was not chasing him. That was as it should 
 be. He breathed a sigh from his heavy heart and stole 
 sadly, back to the old mossy stone where so many of his 
 hfe problems had been thought out. Still, that guy was 
 there! He had the advantage! And Mark and that lady! 
 Bah! He sat down to meditate on Judas and his sins. 
 It seemed that life was just about as disappointing as it 
 could be ! His rough young hand leaned hard against the 
 grimy old stone till the half worn lettering hurt his flesh 
 and he shifted his position and lifted his hand. There on 
 the palm were the quaint old letters, imprinted in the flesh, 
 "Blessed are the dead — " Gosh yes! Weren't they? 
 Judas had been right after all. " Aw Gee ! " he said aloud, 
 " Whatta fool I bin ! " He glanced down at the stone as 
 he rubbed the imprint from the fleshy part of his hand. 
 The rest of the text caught his eye. " Blessed are the 
 dead that die in the Lord ! " There was a catch in that of 
 course. It wasn't blessed if you didn't die in the Lord. 
 " In the Lord " meant that you didn't do anything Judas- 
 like. He understood. The people who didn't die in the 
 Lord weren't blessed. They didn't go to heaven, whatever 
 heaven was. They went to hell. Heaven had never 
 seemed very attractive to Billy when he thought of it 
 casually, and he had taken it generally for granted that he 
 being a boy was naturally destined for the other place. In 
 fact until he knew Lynn Severn he had always told himself 
 calmly that he expected to go to hell sometime, it had 
 seemed the manly thing to do. Most men to his mind were 
 preparing for hell. It seemed the masculine place of final 
 destiny, Heaven was for women. He had ventured some 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 203 
 
 f this philosophy on his aunt once in a particularly strenu- 
 ous time when she had told him that he couldn't expect 
 the reward of the righteous if he continued in his present 
 ways, but she had been so horrified, and wept so long and 
 bitterly that he hadn't ever had the nerve to try it again. 
 And since Marilyn Severn had been his teacher he had 
 known days when he would almost be willing to go to 
 heaven — for her sake. He had also suspected, at times, 
 that Mr. Severn was fully as much of a man as Mark 
 Carter, although Mark was his own, and if Mark decided 
 to go to hell Billy felt there could be no other destiny 
 for himself. 
 
 But now, face to face with realities, Billy suddenly 
 began to realize what hell was going to be like. Billy felt 
 hell surrounding him. Flames could not beat the reproach 
 that now flared him in the face and stung him to the quick 
 with his own sinfulness. He, Billy Gaston, Captain of the 
 Sabbath Valley Base Ball team, prospective Captain of the 
 Sabbath Valley Foot Ball team, champion runner, and 
 high jumper, champion swimmer and boxer of the boy's 
 league of Monopoly County, friend and often tolerated 
 companion of Mark Carter the great, trusted favorite of 
 his beloved and saintly Sunday School teacher, was in hell! 
 He could never more hold up his head and walk proud of 
 himself. He was in hell at fourteen for life, and by his 
 own act ! And Gosh hang it ! Hell didn't look so attractive 
 in the near vision stretching out that way through life, and 
 then some, as it had before he faced it. He'd rather walk 
 through fire somewhere and stand some chance of getting 
 done with it sometime. " Aw Gee ! Gosh ! Whatta fool 
 I bin!" 
 
 And then he set himself to see just what he had done, 
 while the high walls of sin seemed to rise closer about him, 
 
204 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 and his face burned with the heat of the pit into which he 
 had put himself. 
 
 There was that guy Shafton — sissyman ! — He had put 
 him in the parsonage along with his beloved teacher ! If 
 he only hadn't taken that ten dollars or listened to that devil 
 of a Pat, he wouldn't have put up that detour and Shafton 
 would have gone on his way. What difference if he had got 
 kidnapped ? His folks wouldda bailed him out with their old 
 jewels and things. Whaddid anybody want of jewels for 
 anyway? Just nasty httle bits of stone and glass! Mark 
 had seen the guy there in church. Mark didn't like it. 
 He knew by the set of Mark's mouth. Of course Mark 
 went with Cherry sometimes, but then that was different ! 
 Lynn was — well, Lynn was Miss Marilyn ! That was all 
 there was about it. 
 
 And if he hadn't put up that detour Mark would have 
 gone home that night before twelve and his mother would 
 have known he was home, and likely other people would 
 have seen him, and been able to prove he wasn't out shoot- 
 ing anybody, and then they wouldn't have told all those 
 awful things about him. Of course now Mark was safe, 
 of course, but then it wasn't good to have things like that 
 said about Mark. It was fierce to have a thing like that 
 session meeting to remember ! He wanted to kill that old 
 ferret of a Harricutt whenever he thought about it. Then 
 he would be a murderer, and be hanged, and he wouldn't 
 care if he did mebbe. Aw Gee! 
 
 A meadow lark suddenly pierced the sky with its wild 
 sweet note high in the air somewhere, and Billy wondered 
 with a sick thud of his soul how larks dared to sing in a 
 world like this where one could upset a whole circle of 
 friends by a single little turn of finance that he hadn't 
 meant anything wrong by at all ? The bees droned around 
 the honeysuckle that billowed over the little iron fence 
 about a family burying lot, and once Lynn Severn's laugh 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 205 
 
 — not her regular laugh, but a kind of a company polite 
 one — echoed lightly across to his ears and his face dropped 
 into his hands. He almost groaned. Billy Gaston was at 
 the lowest ebb he had ever been in his young life, and his 
 conscience, a thing he hadn't suspected he had, and 
 wouldn't have owned if he had, had risen up within him to 
 accuse him, and there seemed no way on earth to get rid 
 of it. A conscience wasn't a manly thing according to his 
 code, yet here he was, he Billy Gaston, with a conscience ! 
 It was ghastly! 
 
XIX 
 
 Laurie Shafton had caught Lynn as she came down 
 the stairs with a bit of sewing" in her hand to give Naomi 
 a direction from her mother, and had begged her to come 
 out on the porch and talk to him. He pleaded that he 
 was lonesome, and that it was her duty as hostess to amuse 
 him for a while. 
 
 Lynn had no relish for talking with the guest. Her 
 heart was too sore to care to talk with any one. But her 
 innate courtesy, and natural gentleness finally yielded to 
 his pleading, for Laurie had put on a humility that was 
 almost becoming, and made her seem really rude to refuse. 
 
 She made him sit down in the hammock at the far end, 
 however, and insisted on herself taking the little rocker 
 quite near the front door. She knew her father would 
 soon be returning from some parish calls and would relieve 
 her, so she settled herself with the bit of linen she was 
 hemstitching and prepared to make the best of it. 
 
 " It's a shame my car is out of commission yet,'' began 
 Laurie settling back in the hammock and by some strange 
 miracle refraining from lighting a cigarette. It wouldn't 
 have entered his head that Lynn would . have minded. 
 He didn't know any girls objected to smoking. But this 
 girl interested him strangely. He wasn't at all sure but it 
 was a case of love at first sight. He had always been look- 
 ing for that to happen to him. He hoped it had. It would 
 be such a delightful experience. He had tried most of the 
 other kinds. 
 
 "Yes, it is too bad for you to be held up in your 
 journey this way," sympathized Lynn heartily, "but father 
 says the blacksmith is going to fix you up by to-morrow he 
 hopes. Those bearings will likely come to-night." 
 20e 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 207 
 
 " Oh, but it has been a dandy experience. I'm cer- 
 tainly glad it happened. Think what I should have missed 
 all my life, not knowing you! " 
 
 He paused and looked soul fully at Lynn waiting for 
 an appreciative glance from her fully occupied eyes, but 
 Lynn seemed to have missed the point entirely : 
 
 " I should think you might have well afforded to lose 
 the experience of being held up in a dull little town that 
 couldn't possibly be of the slightest interest to you," she 
 said dryly, with the obvious idea of making talk. 
 
 " Oh, but I think it is charming," he said lightly! " I 
 hadn't an idea there was such a place in the world as this. 
 It's ideal, don't you know, so secluded and absolutely rest- 
 ful. I'm having a dandy time, and you people have been 
 just wonderful to me. I think I shall come back often if 
 you'll let me." 
 
 " I can't imagine your enjoying it," said Lynn looking 
 at him keenly, " It must be so utterly apart from your cus- 
 tomary life. It must seem quite crude and almost 
 uncivilized to you." 
 
 " That's just it, it's so charmingly quaint. I'm bored 
 to death with Hfe as I'm used to it. I'm always seeking 
 for a new sensation, and I seem to have lighted on it here 
 all unexpectedly. I certainly hope my car will be fixed by 
 morning. If it isn't I'll telegraph for my man and have 
 him bring down some bearings in one of the other cars 
 and fix me up. I'm determined to take you around a 
 bit and have you show me the country. I know it would 
 be great under your guidance." 
 
 " Thank you," said Lynn coolly, " But I haven't much 
 time for pleasuring just now, and you will be wanting to 
 go on your way — " 
 
 He flushed with annoyance. He was not accustomed 
 to being baffled in this way by any girl, but he had sense 
 
^08 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 enough to know that only by patience and humiHty could 
 he win any notice from her. 
 
 " Oh, I shall want to linger a bit and let this doctor 
 finish up this ankle of mine. It isn't fair to go away to 
 another doctor before I'm on my feet again. 
 
 He thought she looked annoyed, but she did not answer. 
 
 ** Did you ever ride in a racer? " he asked suddenly, 
 " I'll teach you to drive. Would you Hke that? " 
 
 *' Thank you," she said pleasantly, " but that wouldn't 
 be necessary, I know how to drive." 
 
 He almost thought there was a twinkle of mischief in 
 her eye : 
 
 " You know how to drive! But you haven't a car? 
 Oh, I suppose that young Carter taught you to drive his," 
 he said with chagrin. He was growing angry. He began 
 to suspect her of playing with him. After all, even if she 
 was engaged to that chap, he had gone off with Opal quite 
 willingly it would appear. Why should he and she not 
 have a little fling? 
 
 ** No," said Marilyn, "Mr. Carter did not have a car 
 until he went away from Sabbath Valley. I learned while 
 I was in college." 
 
 " Oh, you've been to college ! " the young man sat up 
 with interest, " I thought there was something too 
 sophisticated about you to have come out of a place like 
 this. You had a car while you were in college I suppose." 
 
 Lynn's eyes were dancing : 
 
 " Why didn't you say ' dump ' like this ? That's what 
 your tone said," she laughed, " and only a minute ago you 
 were saying how charming it was. No, I had no car in 
 college, I was — " But he interrupted her eagerly : 
 
 " Now, you are misunderstanding me on purpose," he 
 'declared in a hurt tone. "I think this is an ideal spot off 
 in the hills this way, the quaintest little Utopia in the world, 
 but of course you know you haven't the air of one who 
 had never been out of the hills, and the sweet sheltered 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 209 
 
 atmosphere of this village. Tell me, when and where did 
 you drive a car, and I'll see if I can't give you one better 
 for a joy ride." 
 
 Lynn looked up placidly and smiled : 
 
 " In New York,"she said quietly, " at the beginning 
 of the war, and afterward in France." 
 
 Laurie Shaft on sat up excitedly, the color flushing into 
 his handsome face : 
 
 " Were you in France ? " he said admiringly, " Well, I 
 might have loiown. I saw there was something different 
 about you. Y. M., I suppose ? " 
 
 " No," said Lynn, " Salvation Army. My father has 
 been a friend of the Commander's all his life. She knew 
 that we believed in all their principles. There were only a 
 very few outsiders, those whom they knew well, allowed 
 to go with them. I was one." 
 
 " Well," said Laurie, eyeing her almost embarrassedly, 
 " You girls made a great name for yourselves with your 
 doughnuts and your pies. The only thing I had against 
 you was that you didn't treat us officers always the way we 
 ought to have been treated. But I suppose there were 
 individual exceptions. I went into a hut one night and 
 tried to get some cigarettes and they wouldn't let me 
 have any." 
 
 " No, we didn't sell cigarettes," said Lynn with satis- 
 faction, " That wasn't what we were there for. We had a 
 few for the wounded and dying who were used to them 
 and needed them of course, but we didn't sell them." 
 
 " And then I tried to get some doughnuts and coffee, 
 but would you believe it, they wouldn't let me have any till 
 all the fellows in line had been served. They said I had 
 to take my turn ! They were quite insulting about it ! Of 
 course they did good, but they ought to have been made to 
 understand that they couldn't treat United States Officers 
 that way ! " 
 
 " Why not ? Were you any better than any of the 
 
 14 
 
210 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 soldiers ? '' she asked eyeing him calmly, and somehow he 
 seemed to feel smaller than his normal estimate of himself. 
 
 " An officer? " he said with a contemptuous haughty 
 light in his eye. 
 
 " What is an officer but the servant of his men? " asked 
 Lynn. " Would you want to eat before them when they 
 had stood hours in line waiting? They who had all the 
 hard work and none of the honors? " 
 
 Laurie's cheeks were flushed and his eyes angry : 
 
 " That's rot ! " he said rudely, " Where did you get it? 
 The officers were picked from the cream of the land. They 
 represent the great Nation. An insult to them is an insult 
 to the Nation — !" 
 
 Lynn began to smile impudently — ^and her eyes were 
 dancing again. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Mr. Shaft on, you must not forget 
 I was there. I knew both officers and men. I admit that 
 some of the officers were princely, fit men to represent a 
 great Qiristian Nation, but some of them again were well 
 — ^the scum of the earth, rather than the cream. Mr. 
 Shaft on it does not make a man better than his fellows to 
 be an officer, and it does not make him fit to be an officer 
 just because his father is able to buy him a commission." 
 
 Laurie flushed angrily again : 
 
 " My father did not buy me a commission ! " he said 
 indignantly, " I went to a training camp and won it.*' 
 
 '* I beg your pardon, Mr. Shafton, I meant nothing 
 personal, but I certainly had no use for an officer who came 
 bustling in on those long lines of weary soul-sick boys just ; 
 back from the front, and perhaps off again that night, and 
 tried to get ahead of them in line. However, let's talk of 
 something else. Were you ever up around Dead Man's 
 Curve ? What division were you in ? " 
 
 Laurie let his anger die out and answered her questions. 
 For a few minutes they held quite an animated conversa- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 211 
 
 tion about France and the various phases of the war. 
 Laurie had been in air service. One could see just how 
 handsome he must have looked in his uniform. One would 
 know also that he would be brave and reckless. It was 
 written all over his face and in his very attitude. He 
 showed her his " croix de guerre." 
 
 " Mark was taken prisoner by the Germans," she said 
 sadly as she handed it back, her eyes dreamy and faraway, 
 then suddenly seeming to realize that she had spoken her 
 thoughts aloud she flushed and hurried on to other ex- 
 periences during the war, but she talked abstractedly, as 
 one whose thoughts had suddenly been diverted. The 
 young man watched her baffled : 
 
 " You seem so aloof," he said all at once watching her 
 as she sewed away on the bit of linen, " You seem almost 
 as if you — ^well — despised me. Excuse me if I say that it's 
 a rather new experience. People in my world don't act that 
 way to me, really they don't. And you don't even know 
 who I am nor anything about me. Do you think that's 
 quite fair ? " 
 
 Lynn looked at him with suddenly arrested attention : 
 
 " I'm sorry," she said, " I didn't mean to be rude. But 
 possibly you've come to the heart of the matter. I am not 
 of your world. You know there's a great deal in not being 
 able to get another's point of view. I hope I haven't done 
 you an injustice. I haven't meant to. But you're wrong 
 in saying I don't know who you are or anything about you. 
 You are the son of William J. Shaft on — ^the only son, isn't 
 that so? Then you are the one I mean. There can't be 
 any mistake. And I do know something about you. In 
 fact I've been very angry at you, and wished I might meet 
 you and tell you what I thought of you." 
 
 "You don't say!" said Laurie getting up excitedly 
 and moving over to a chair next to hers regardless of his 
 lame ankle, " This certainly is interesting ! What the deuce 
 
£12 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 have I been doing to get myself in your bad graces? I 
 better repent at once before I hear what it is? " 
 
 " You are the one who owns the block of warehouses 
 
 down on street and won't sell at any price to give the 
 
 little children in all that region a place to get a bit of fresh 
 air, the grass and a view of the sky. You are the one who 
 won't pull down your old buildings and try new and im- 
 proved ways of housing the poor around there so that they 
 can grow up decently clean and healthy and have a little 
 chance in this world. Just because you can't have as many 
 apartments and get as much money from your investment 
 you let the little children crowd together in rooms that 
 aren't fit for the pigs to live in, they are so dark and airless, 
 and crowded already. Oh, I know you keep within the 
 law ! You just skin through without breaking it, but you 
 won't help a little bit, you won't even let your property 
 help if someone else is willing to take the bother ! Oh, I've 
 been so boiling at you ever since I heard your name that I 
 couldn't hardly keep my tongue still, to think of that great 
 beautiful car out there and how much it must have cost, 
 and to hear you speak of one of your other cars as if you 
 had millions of them, and to think of little Carmela Hving 
 down in the basement room of Number i8 in your block, 
 growing whiter and whiter every day, with her great blue 
 eyes and her soft fine wavy hair, and that hungry eager look 
 in her face. And her mother, sewing, sewing, all day long at 
 the little cellar window, and going blind because you won't 
 put in a bigger one ; sewing on coarse dark vests, putting 
 in pockets and buttonholes for a living for her and 
 Carmela, and you grinding her down and running around 
 in cars like that and taking it out of little Carmela, and 
 little Carmela's mother! Oh! How can I help feeling 
 aloof from a person like that ? " 
 
 Laurie sat up astonished watching her: 
 
THE CITY OF FIBE 21S 
 
 " Why, my dear girl ! " he exclaimed, " Do you know 
 what you're talking about ? Do you realize that it would 
 take a mint of money to do all the fool things that these 
 silly reformers are always putting up to you? My lawyer 
 looks after all those matters. Of course I know nothing 
 about it—!" 
 
 " Well, you ought to know,'* said Lynn excitedly, 
 " Does the money belong to your lawyer ? Isn't it yours 
 to be responsible for? Well, then if you are stealing some 
 of it out of little Carmela and a lot of other little children 
 and their mothers and fathers oughtn't you to know ? Is 
 your lawyer going to take the responsibility about it in the 
 kingdom of heaven I should like to know ? Can he stand 
 up in the judgment day and exempt you by saying that he 
 had to do the best he could for your property because you 
 required it of him? Excuse me for getting so excited, 
 but I love little Carmela. I went to see her a great deal 
 last winter when I was in New York taking my senior 
 year at the University. And I can't help telling you the 
 truth about it. I don't suppose you'll do anything about 
 it, but at least you ought to know! And Fm not your 
 dear girl, either! " 
 
 Marilyn rose suddenly from her chair, and stood facing 
 him with blazing eyes and cheeks that were aflame. It was 
 a revelation to the worldly wise young man that a saint so 
 sweet could blossom suddenly into a beautiful and furious 
 woman. It seemed unreal to find this wonderful, unique, 
 excitable young woman with ideas in such a quiet secluded 
 spot of the earth. Decidedly she had ideas. 
 
 " Excuse me," he said, and rose also, an almost depre- 
 catory air upon him, " I assure you I meant nothing out of 
 the way, Miss Severn. I certainly respect and honor you 
 — And really, I had no idea of all this about my property. 
 I've never paid much heed to my property except to spend 
 
gl4 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 the income of course. It wasn't required of me. I must 
 look into this matter. If I find it as you think — that is if 
 there is no mistake, I will see what I can do to remedy it. 
 In any case we will look after little Carmela. I'll settle 
 some money on her mother, wouldn't that be the best way ? 
 I can't think things are as bad as you say — " 
 
 " Will you really do something about it? " asked Lynn 
 earnestly, "Will you go up to New York and see for 
 yourself? Will you go around in every room of your 
 buildings and get acquainted with those people and find 
 out just what the conditions are? " 
 
 " Why — I — ! " he began uncertainly. 
 
 "Oh, I thought you couldn't stand that test! That 
 would be too much bother — ^You would rather — ! " 
 
 " No, Wait! I didn't say I wouldn't. Here! I'll go 
 if you'll go with me and show me what you mean and what 
 you want done. Come. I'll take you at your word. If 
 you really want all those things come on and show me just 
 what to do. I'm game. I'll do it. I'll do it whether it 
 needs doing or not, just for you. Will you take me up ? " 
 
 " Of course " said Lynn quickly, " I'll go with you and 
 show you. I expect to be in New York next month helping 
 at the Salvation Home while one of their workers is away 
 on her vacation. I'll show you all over the district as many 
 times as you need to go, if it's not too hot for you to come 
 back to the city so early.". 
 
 He looked at her sharply. There was a covert sneer in 
 her last words that angered him, and he was half inclined 
 to refuse the whole thing, but somehow there was some- 
 thing in this strange new type of girl that fascinated him. 
 Now that she had the university, and the war, and the 
 world, for a background she puzzled and fascinated him 
 more than ever. Half surprised at his own interest he 
 bowed with a new kind of dignity over his habitual 
 light manner : 
 
THE CITY OF FERE 215 
 
 " I shall be delighted, Miss Severn. It will not be too 
 hot for me if it is not too hot for you. I shall be at your 
 service, and I hope you will discover that there is one officer 
 who knows how to obey." 
 
 She looked at him half surprised, half troubled and 
 then answered simply : 
 
 " Thank you. I'm afraid IVe done you an injustice. 
 I'm afraid I didn't think you would be game enough to do 
 it. I hope I haven't been too rude. But you see I feel 
 deeply about it and sometimes I forget myself? " 
 
 *' I am sure I deserve all you have said," said Laurie 
 as gravely as his light nature could manage, " but there is 
 one thing that puzzles me deeply. I wish you would en- 
 lighten me. All this won't do you any good. It isn't for 
 you at all. Why do you care? " 
 
 Marilyn brought her lovely eyes to dwell on his face 
 for a moment thoughtfully, a shy beautiful tenderness 
 softening every line of her eager young face : 
 
 " It's because — " she began diffidently, " It's because 
 they all are God's children — and I love Him better than 
 anything else in life ! " 
 
 The swift color made her face lovely as she spoke, and 
 with the words she turned away and went quickly into the 
 house. The young man looked after her and dared not 
 follow. He had never had a shock like that in his life. 
 Girls had talked about everything under heaven to him at 
 one time or another, but they had never mentioned God 
 except profanely. 
 
 Marilyn went swiftly up to her room and knelt down 
 by her bed, burying her hot cheeks in the cool pillow and 
 trying to pray. She was glad, glad that she had spoken 
 for her poor city children, glad that there was a prospect 
 or help perhaps ; but beside and beyond it all her heart was 
 crying out for another matter that was namelessly tugging 
 
216 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 away at the very foundations of her soul. Why, Oh Why 
 had Mark gone away with that queer girl ? He must have 
 setn what she was! He must have known that it was 
 unnecessary ! He must have known how it would hurt his 
 friends, and that the man she came to see could have gone 
 as well as he and better. Why did he go ? She would not, 
 she could not believe anything wrong of Mark. Yet why 
 did he gof^ 
 
 H^^ 
 
XX 
 
 Billy had no appetite for the nice supper that Aunt 
 Saxon had ready when he came dejectedly home that night. 
 He had passed the parsonage and seen through the dining- 
 room window that the rich guy was sitting at the supper 
 table opposite Marilyn laughing and talking with her and 
 his soul was sick within him. That was his doing ! Nobody 
 else but himself to blame ! 
 
 Aunt Saxon had apple dumplings with plenty of 
 " goo," black with cinnamon just the way he loved it, but 
 he only minced at the first helping and scarcely tasted the 
 second. He chopped a great many kindling after supper, 
 and filled the woodbox, and thoughtfully wound the clock. 
 Then instead of going out with his usual " I gotta beat 
 it ! " he sat languidly on the doorstep in the dusk, and 
 when she anxiously questioned if he were sick he 
 said crossly: 
 
 "Aw, Gee! Can't ya let a fella alone! Vm all in, 
 can't ya see it ? Fm gonta bed! '' and knowing he had said 
 the most alarming thing in the whole category he slammed 
 upstairs to his own room and flung himself across his bed. 
 
 Aunt Saxon filled with vague fears crept softly up 
 after him, tapping at his locked door : 
 
 " Willie, what is the matter ? Just tell auntie where 
 the pain is and Til get you some medicine that will fix you 
 all up by morning. I'll get you a hot water bag — ! " 
 
 "DON'T WANT NO HOT WATER BAGS!" 
 roared the sore hearted Billy. " Can't ya lemme alone? " 
 
 Silence a moment while Aunt Saxon pondered tear- 
 fully and sighfully, then : 
 
 " Willie, is it the tooth ache ? " 
 
 " NoooOH ! " roared Billy. 
 
 A pause, then: 
 
 217 
 
218 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 " Billy, youVe had a fall off that wheel and hurt yer 
 head or cut yer knee, I know, Fve always thought you'd do 
 that, that old wheel ! You oughtta have a new one. But 
 ril bring the arnica and bathe it. And we'll paint it with 
 iodine — where was it Willie? Yer knee? " 
 
 Billy's shoes came to the floor with a bang : 
 
 "Aw gee! Can't ya keep yer mouth shut an' let a 
 fella have a little sleep. It ain't Nowhere! It ain't Nothin' 
 an' I didn't have no fall an' I don't want no new bicycle. 
 D'ye hear? I don't want nothin' 'cept just to be let alone. 
 I wantta go ta sleep. Ain't I ben telHn' ya fer the last 
 half hour ? It ain't sinful fer a fella to wantta take a Httle 
 sleep is it when he's been up half the night before taking 
 care of a fella on the mountain? — But if I ain't allowed, 
 why then I'll get up an' go out somewheres. I know plenty 
 of places where they'll lemme sleep — " 
 
 " Oh WiUlee! " sobbed Aunt Saxon. " That's all right 
 dear ! Just you lie right down in your bed and take a good 
 sleep. I didn't understand. Auntie didn't understand. 
 All right Willie. I'll keep it real still. Now you lie down 
 won't you? You will won't you? You'll really lie down 
 and sleep won't you Willie ? " 
 
 " Didn't I say I would? " snapped Willie shamedly, and 
 subsided on his bed again while Aunt Saxon stole pain- 
 fully, noiselessly over the creak in the stair, closed the 
 house for the night and crept tearfully to her own bed, 
 where she lay for hours silently wiping the steady trickle of 
 hopeless tears. Oh, Willie, Willie! And she had had 
 such hopes ! 
 
 But Billy lay staring wide eyed at the open square of 
 his window that showed the Httle village nestling among 
 the trees dotted here and there with friendly winking 
 lights, the great looming mountains in the distance, and 
 Stark mountain, farthest and blackest of them all. He 
 shut his eyes and tried to blot it out, but it seemed to loom 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 219 
 
 through his very eyeHds and mock him. He seemed to 
 see Mark, his idol, carried between those other three dark 
 figures into the blackness of that haunted house. He 
 seemed to see him lying helpless, bound, on the musty bed 
 in the deserted room, Mark, his beloved Mark. Mark who 
 had carried him on his shoulder as a tiny child, who had 
 ridden him on his back, and taught him to swim and pitch 
 ball and box, Mark who let him go where even the big boys 
 were not allowed to accompany him, and who never told on 
 him nor treated him mean nor went back on him in any 
 way ! Mark ! He had been the means of putting Mark in 
 that helpless position, while circumstances which he was 
 now quite sure the devil had been specially preparing, wove 
 a tangled maze about the young man's feet from which 
 there seemed no way of extrication. 
 
 Billy shut his eyes and tried to sleep but sleep would 
 not come. He began to doubt if he would ever sleep again. 
 He lay listening to the evening noises of the village. He 
 heard Jim Rafferty's voice going by to the night shift, and 
 Tom McMertrie. They were laughing softly and once 
 he thought he heard the name " Old Hair-Cut." The 
 Tully baby across the street had colic and cried like murder. 
 Murder! Murder! Now why did he have to think of 
 that word of all words? Murder? Well, it was crying 
 like it wanted to murder somebody. He wished he was a 
 baby himself so he could cry. He'd cry harder'n that. 
 Little's dog was barking again. He'd been barking all day 
 long. It was probably at that strange guy at the parson- 
 age. Little's dog never did like strangers. That creak 
 was Barneses gate with the iron weight hitched on the 
 chain to make it shut, and somebody laughed away up the 
 street ! There went the clock, nine o'clock ! Gee ! Was 
 that all ? He thought it must be about three in the morn- 
 ing! And then he must have dozed off for a little, for 
 when he woke with a start it was very still and dark, as if 
 
mo THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 the moon had gone away, had been and gone again, and 
 he heard a cautious Httle mouse gnawing at the baseboard 
 in his room, gnawing and stopping and gnawing again, 
 then whisking over the lath hke fingers running a scale on 
 the piano. He had watched Miss Lynn do it once on 
 the organ. 
 
 He opened his eyes and looked hard at the window. 
 The dim outline of Stark mountain off in the distance 
 began to grow into form, and what was that ? A speck of 
 light? It must be his eyes. He rubbed them sleepily and 
 looked again. Yes, a light. Alert at once with the alert- 
 ness that comes to all boys at the sound of a fire bell or 
 some such alarm, he slid from his bed noiselessly and stole 
 to the window. It was gone! Aw, Gee! He had been 
 asleep and dreamed it. No, there it was again, or was it ? 
 
 Blackness all before his eyes, with a luminous sky dimly 
 about the irregular mountain top fringed with trees. This 
 was foolish. He felt chilly and crept back to bed, but could 
 not keep his eyes from the dark spot against the sky. He 
 tried to close the lids and go to sleep, but they insisted on 
 flying open and watching. And then came what he had 
 been watching for. Three winks, and stop, three winks, 
 stop, and one long flash. Then all was dark. And though 
 he watched till the church clock struck three he saw 
 no more. 
 
 But the old torment came back. Mark and Cherry and 
 Lynn. The guy at the parsonage and the girl with the 
 floured face and base ball bats in her ears ! Aw Gee ! He 
 must have a fever ! It was hours since the clock had struck 
 three. It must be nearly four, and then it would soon be 
 light and he could get up. There seemed to be a light some- 
 where down the street through the trees. Not the street 
 lamp either. Somebody sick likely. Hark! What was 
 that ? He wished he hadn't undressed. He sat up in bed 
 and listened. The purr of a car ! Someone was stealing 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 221 
 
 Mark's car! Mark was away and everybody knew it. 
 Nobody in Sabbath Valley would steal, except, perhaps 
 over at the plush mill. There were new people there — 
 Was that Mark's car? Some car! 
 
 With a motion like a cat he sprang into the necessary 
 garment which nestled limply on the floor by the bed, and 
 was at the window in a trice. A drop like a cat to the shed 
 roof, down the rainwater spout to the ground, a stealthy 
 step to the back shed where old trusty leaned, and he was 
 away down the road a speck in the dark, and just in time 
 to see the dim black vision of a car speeding with muffled 
 engine down the road toward the church. It was too dark 
 to say it was Mark's car. He had no way but to follow. 
 
 Panting and puffing, pedalling with all his might, 
 straining his eyes to see through the dark the car that was 
 flying along without lights, his hair sticking endwise, his 
 sleepy hungry face peering wanly through the dark, he 
 plodded after. Over the Highway ! He slowed down and 
 w^asn't quite sure till he heard the chug of the engine 
 ahead, and a few seconds later a red light bloomed out 
 behind and he drew a new breath and pedalled on again, 
 his heart throbbing wildly, the collar of his pajamas stick- 
 ing up wildly like his hair, and one pa jama leg showing 
 whitely below his trouser like a tattered banner. The 
 pedals cut his bare feet, and he shivered though he was 
 drenched with perspiration, but he leaned far over his 
 handle bars and pedalled on. 
 
 Down past the Blue Duck Tavern, and on into the 
 village of Economy the car went, not rapidly now as 
 though it were running away, but slower, and steadier like 
 a car on legitimate business and gravely with a necessary 
 object in view. Billy's heart began to quake. Not for 
 nothing had he learned to read by signs and actions at the 
 feet of the master Mark. An inner well-developed sense 
 began to tell him the truth. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE | 
 
 The car stopped in front of the Chief's house, and a 
 horn sounded softly once. Billy dismounted hastily and 
 vanished into the shadows. A light appeared in the upper 
 window of the house and all was still. Presently the light 
 upstairs went out, the front door opened showing a dim- 
 mer light farther in, and showing the outline of the Chief 
 in flannel shirt and trousers. He came down the walk and 
 spoke with the man in the car, and the car started again 
 and turned in at the Chief's drive way, going back to 
 the garage. 
 
 Billy left his wheel against a hedge and hiked noise- 
 lessly after, slinking behind the garage door till the driver 
 came out. It was Mark! 
 
 He went down the drive, met the Chief at the gate and 
 they went silently down the dark street, their rubber heels 
 making no noise on the pavement. Economy was asleep 
 and no wiser, but Billy's heart was breaking. He watched 
 the two and followed afar till they turned down the side 
 street which he feared. He stole after and saw them enter 
 the brick building that harbored the County Jail. He 
 waited with shaking limbs and bleeding heart, waited, 
 hoping, fearing, dreading, but not for long. The Chief 
 came out alone ! It was as he had feared. 
 
 Then as if the very devil himself pursued him, Billy 
 turned and fled, retrieving his bicycle and whirled away 
 noiselessly down the road, caring not where he was going, 
 ready to hang himself, wild with despair and self- 
 condemnation. 
 
 The dark lay over the valley like a velvet mantel black 
 and soft with white wreaths of mist like a lady's veil flung 
 aside and blown to the breeze, but Billy saw naught but 
 red winking lights and a jail, grim and red in the midnight, 
 and his friend's white face passing in beneath the arched 
 door. The bang of that door as it shut was echoing 
 his soul. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 223 
 
 He passed the Fenner cottage. There were lights and 
 moving about, but he paid no heed. He passed the Blue 
 Duck Tavern, and saw the light in the kitchen where 
 the cook was beginning the day's work just as the rest of 
 the house had been given over to sleep. There was the 
 smell of bacon on the air. Some one was going away on 
 the milk train likely. He thought it out dully as he passed 
 with the sick reeling motion of a rider whose life has sud- 
 denly grown worthless to him. Over bottles and nails, 
 and bumping over humps old trusty carried him, down the 
 hill to Sabbath Valley, past the grave yard where the old 
 stones peered eerily up from the dark mounds like wakened 
 curious sleepers, past the church in the gray of the morning 
 with a pinkness in the sky behind. Lynn lying in a sleep- 
 less bed listening to every sound for Mark's car to return, 
 and recognizing Billy's back wheel squeak. On down the 
 familiar street, glad of the thick maples to hide him, 
 hunching up the pa jama leg that would wave below in the 
 rapidly increasing light, not looking toward the Carters', 
 plodding on, old trusty on the back porch ; shinning up the 
 water spout, tiptoeing over the shed roof, a quick spring 
 in his own window and he was safe on his bed again 
 staring at the red morning light shining weirdly, cheerily 
 on his wall and the rooster crowing lustily below his win- 
 dow. Drat that rooster ! What did it want to make that 
 noise for ? Wasn't there a rooster in that Bible story ? Oh, 
 no, that was Peter perhaps. He turned hastily from the 
 subject and gave his attention to his toilet. Aunt Saxon 
 was squeaking past his door, stopping to listen : 
 
 ** Willie?" 
 
 " Well." In a low growl, not encouragingly. 
 
 " Oh, Willie, you up ? You better ? " 
 
 " Nothin' the matter with me." 
 
 " Oh—" 
 
 "Breakfast ready?" 
 
224 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 '* Oh, yes, Willie ! I'm so glad you're feeling better/' 
 She squeaked on down the stairs sniffing as if from recent 
 tears! Doggone those tears! Those everlasting tears! 
 Why didn't a woman know — ! Now, what did he 
 have to do next ? Do ! Yes, he must do something. He 
 couldn't just sit here, could he? What about Stark's 
 mountain and the winking light ? What about that sissy- 
 guy making up to Miss Lynn? If only Mark were here 
 now he would tell him everything. Yes, he would. Mark 
 would understand. But Mark was in that unspeakable 
 place ! Would Mark find a way to get out ? He felt con- 
 vinced he could, but would he? From the set of his 
 shoulders Billy had a strong conviction that Mark would 
 not. Mark seemed to be going there for a purpose. Would 
 the purpose be complete during the day sometime and 
 would Mark return? Billy must do something before 
 night. He wished it might be to smash the face of that 
 guy Shaft on. Assuredly he must do something. But first 
 he must eat his breakfast. He didn't want to, but he had 
 to. Aunt Saxon would raise a riot if he didn't. Well, 
 there was ham. He could smell it. Ham for breakfast. 
 Aw gee ! Saxy was getting extravagant. Somehow pretty 
 soon if he didn't hang himself he must find a way to 
 brighten up Saxy and pay her back for all those pink tears. 
 
 And over on Stark's mountain as the morning dawned 
 a heavy foot climbed the haunted stairs and a blood shot 
 eye framed itself at the httle half moon in the front win- 
 dow that looked out over Lone Valley toward Economy, 
 and down over Sabbath Valley toward Monopoly com- 
 manding a strategic position in the whole wild 
 lovely region. 
 
 Down in the cellar where the rats had hitherto held 
 sway a soft chip, chip, chipping sound went steadily for- 
 ward hour by hour, with spaces between and chip, chip, 
 chipping again, a new kind of rat burrowing into the 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 225 
 
 earth, over close to the edge of the long deserted scanty 
 coal pile. While up under the dusty beams in a dark corner 
 various old parcels were stowed away awaiting a later 
 burial. From the peep hole where the eye commanded the 
 situation a small black speck went whirling along the 
 road to Monopoly which might be a boy on a bicycle, but 
 no one came toward Stark's mountain on that bright 
 sunny morning to disturb the quiet worker in the 
 dark cellar. 
 
 Billy was on his way to Monopoly, his aunt appeased 
 for the time being, with the distinct purpose of buying the 
 morning paper. Not that he was given to literature, or 
 perused the daily news as a habit, but an idea had struck 
 him. There might be a way of finding out about Mark 
 without letting any one know how he was finding out. It 
 might be in the paper. Down at Monopoly no one would 
 notice if he bought a County paper, and he could stop in 
 the woods and read it. 
 
 But when he reached the news stand he saw a pile of 
 New York papers lying right in front, and the great black 
 headlines caught his eye: 
 
 "FATE OF LAURENCE SHAFTON 
 STILL UNKNOWN." 
 
 " Son of multimillionaire of New York City who was 
 kidnapped on Saturday night on his way from New York 
 to a week-end house party at Beech wood, N. J., not yet 
 heard from. No clew to his whereabouts. Detectives out 
 with bloodhounds searching country. Mother in a state 
 of collapse. It is feared the bandits have fulfilled their 
 threats and killed him. Father frantically offering any 
 reward for news of son ! " 
 
 Billy read no further. He clapped down a nickel and 
 stuffed the paper indifferently into his pocket, almost f or- 
 is 
 
226 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 getting in his disgust to purchase the county news. " Aw 
 Gee ! " he said to himself. " More o' that Judas stuff. I 
 gotta get rid o' them thirty pieces 1 '* 
 
 He stepped back and bought a County paper, stood 
 idly looking over its pages a moment with the letters 
 swimming before his eyes, at last discovering the column 
 where the Economy " murder " was discussed, and with- 
 out reading it stuffed it in the pocket on the other side and 
 rode away into the sunlight. Murder! It was called 
 murder ! Then Dolph must be dead ! The plot thickened ! 
 Dead! Murder! Who killed him? Surely he wasn't re- 
 sponsible for that at least ! He was out on the road with 
 Mark when it happened. He hadn't done anything which 
 in the remotest way had to do with the killing, he thanked 
 his lucky stars for that. And Mark. But who did it? 
 Cherry? She might be a reason for what Mark did 
 last night. 
 
 At a turn in the road where a little grove began he got 
 off his wheel and seeking a sheltered spot dropped down 
 under a tree to read his papers. His quick eye searched 
 through the County paper first for the sensational account 
 of the murder, and a gray look settled over his pug coun- 
 tenance as he read. So might a mother have regarded 
 her child in deep trouble, or a lover his beloved. Billy's 
 spirit was bowed to the depths. When he had de- 
 voured every word he flung the paper aside wrathfully, 
 and sat up with a kind of hopeless gesture 'of his hard 
 young hands. " Aw Gee ! " he said aloud, and suddenly he 
 felt a great wet blob rolling down his freckled cheek. He 
 smashed it across into his hair with a quick slash of his 
 dirty hand as if it had been a mosquito annoying him, and 
 lest the other eye might be meditating a like trick he gave 
 that a vicious dab and hauled out the other paper, more as 
 a matter of form than because he had a deep interest in 
 it. All through the description of those wonderful 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 227 
 
 Shaft on jewels, and the mystery that surrounded the dis- 
 appearance of the popular young man, Billy could see the 
 word " murder " dancing like little black devils in and out 
 among the letters. The paragraph about Mrs. Shafton's 
 collapse held him briefly: 
 
 J " Aw, gee ! " he could see pink tears everywhere. He 
 supposed he ought to do something about that. For all the 
 world like Aunt Saxon! He seemed to sense her youth 
 through the printed words as he had once sensed Mrs. 
 Carter's. He saw her back in school, pretty and little. 
 Rich women were always pretty and little to his 
 mind, pretty and little and helpless and always cry- 
 ing. It was then that the thought was born that 
 made him look off to the hills and ponder with drawn 
 brows and anxious mein. He took it back to his home 
 with him and sat moodily staring at the lilac bushes, and 
 gave Aunt Saxon another bad day wondering what had 
 come to Willie. She would actually have been glad to 
 hear him say : " I gotta beat it ! I gotta date with 
 tha fellas!" 
 
 That evening the rumor crept back to Sabbath Valley 
 from who knows where that Dolph was dead and Mark 
 Carter had run away ! 
 
XXI 
 
 Tuesday morning Lynn slipped down to Carters witK 
 a little cake she had made all white frosting and sprinkles 
 of nuts. Her face was white but brave with a smile, and 
 she said her mother wanted to know how Mrs. Carter's 
 neuralgia was getting on. 
 
 But Mrs. Carter was the only one in the village 
 perhaps who had not heard the rumor, and she was 
 gracious and pleased and said she wished Mark was home, 
 he loved nut cake so much. 
 
 " You know he was called back to New York suddenly 
 last night didn't you? " she said. " He felt real sorry to 
 leave so soon, but his partner wired him there was some- 
 thing he must see to himself, and he just took his car and 
 went right away as soon as he got back from taking that 
 girl home. He hoped he'd get back again soon though. 
 Say, who was that girl ? Wasn't she kind of queer to ask 
 Mark to take her home ? Seems somehow girls are getting 
 a little forward these days. I know you'd never do a thing 
 like that with a perfect stranger, Marilyn." 
 
 The girl only stayed a few minutes, and went home 
 with a braver heart. At least Mark was protecting his 
 mother. He had not changed entirely. He wouldn't let 
 her suffer ! But what was he doing ? Oughtn't he to be told 
 what rumors were going around about him? But how 
 could it be done? Her father? Perhaps. She shrank from 
 that, Mark had so withdrawn from them, he might take 
 it as an interference. Billy? Ah, yes, Billy! 
 
 But Billy did not appear anywhere, and when she got 
 back she found that Shaf ton's car had been finished and 
 was ready to drive, and he wanted her to take a little 
 spin with him to try it, he said. He warily invited her 
 
 228 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 229 
 
 mother to go along, for he saw by her face that she was 
 going to decHne, and the mother watching her daughter's 
 white face said : *' Yes, Marilyn we will go. It will do 
 you good. You have been housed up here ever since you 
 came home." And there was nothing for the girl to do 
 but succumb or seem exceedingly rude. She was not by 
 nature rude, so she went. 
 
 As they drove by the Saxon cottage Billy was just 
 coming out, and he stared glumly at the three and hardly 
 acknowledged Marilyn's greeting. He stared after 
 them scowling. 
 
 " Hell ! " said Billy aloud, regardless of Aunt Saxon 
 at the front window, " Yes Hell! " and he reaHzed the 
 meaning of his epithet far better than the young man he 
 was staring after had the first night he had used it in 
 Sabbath Valley. 
 
 "What was that you said Willie?" called Aunt 
 Saxon's anxious voice. 
 
 " Aw, nothing ! " said Billy, and slammed out the gate, 
 his wheel by his side. *' Now! Something had to be done. 
 He couldn't have that going on. He was hurt at Mrs. 
 Severn. She ought to take better care of her daughter ! 
 In sullen despair he mounted and rode away to work out 
 his problem. It was certain he couldn't do anything with 
 Saxy snivelling round. And something had to he done! 
 
 Billy managed to get around the country quite a little 
 that morning. He rode up to Economy and learned that 
 Mr. Fenner, the tailor, was sick, had been taken two nights 
 ago, was delirious and had to have two men to hold him 
 down. He thought everybody was an enemy and tried to 
 choke them all. He rode past the jail but saw nothing 
 though he circled the block three times. The Chief stood 
 out in front talking with three strange men. Billy sized 
 them up for detectives. When there was nothing further 
 to be gained in Economy he turned his steed toward 
 
230 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Pleasant Valley and took in a little underground telephone 
 communication between a very badly scared Pat and a 
 very angry Sam at some unknown point at the end of the 
 wire. It was then, lying hidden in the thick undergrowth, 
 that a possible solution of his difficulties occurred 
 to him, a form of noble self sacrifice that might in part 
 do penance for his guilt. Folded safely in his inner pocket 
 was the thirty pieces of silver, the blood money, the price of 
 Mark Carter's freedom and good name. If he had not 
 taken that he might have fixd this Pat so he would be a 
 witness to Mark's alibi. But according to the code he had 
 been taught it would not be honorable to squeal on some- 
 body whose money he had taken. It wasn't square. It 
 wasn't honorable. It was yella, and yella, he would not be 
 if the sky fell. It was all the religion he had as yet, not 
 to be " yella." It stood for all the fineness of his soul. But 
 he had reasoned within himself that if in some way he 
 could get that money back to Pat, then he would be free 
 from obligation. Then he could somehow manage to put 
 Pat where he would have to tell the right thing to save 
 Mark. Just how it could be done he wasn't sure, but that 
 was another question. 
 
 When Pat had trundled away to the train he rolled him- 
 self out from ambush and went on his way across Lone 
 Valley by a little tree-shaded path he knew that cut straight 
 over to Stark mountain. 
 
 Not a ripple of a leaf showed above him as he passed 
 straight up the mountain to the old house, for the watchful 
 eye looking out to see. Billy was a great deal like an 
 Indian in his goings and comings, and Billy was wary. 
 Had he not seen the winking light ? Billy was taking no 
 chances. Smoothly folded in his hip pocket he carried a 
 leaf of the New York paper wherein was offered a large 
 reward for information concerning jewels and bonds and 
 other property taken from the Shafton country home on 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 231 
 
 pretense of setting free the son. Also there was a stu- 
 pendous reward offered for information concerning the 
 son, and Billy's big thought as he crept along under the 
 trees with all the stealth of a wild thing, was that here was 
 another thirty pieces of silver multiplied many times, and 
 he wasn't going to take it! He could, but he wouldn't ! 
 He was going to give these folks the information they 
 wanted, but he wasn't going to get the benefit of it. That 
 was going to be his punishment. He had been in hell long 
 enough, and he was going to try to pull himself out of it 
 by his good works. And he would do it in such a way that 
 there woudn't be any chance of the reward being pressed 
 upon him. He would just fix it so that nobody would par- 
 ticularly know he had anything to do with the clews. 
 That was Billy all over. He never did a thing half way. 
 But first he must find out if there was anybody about the 
 old house. He couldn't get away from those three winks 
 he had seen. 
 
 So, feeling almost relieved for a moment Billy left his 
 wheel on guard and crept around to his usual approach at 
 the back before he came out in the open. And then he crept 
 cautiously to the cellar window where he had first entered 
 the house. He gripped Pat's old gun with one hand in 
 his pocket, and slid along like a young snake, taking pre- 
 caution not to appear before the cellar window lest his 
 shadow should fall inside. He flattened himself at last 
 upon the grass a noticeless heap of gray khaki trousers and 
 brown flannel shirt close against the house. One would 
 have to lean far out of a window to see him, and there he 
 lay and listened awhile. And presently from the depths 
 beyond that grated window he heard a little scratch, 
 scratch, scratch, tap, tap, tap, scratch, tap, scratch, tap, 
 steadily, on for sometime like his heart beats, till he wasn't 
 sure he was hearing it at all, and thought it might be the 
 blood pounding through his ears, so strange and uncanny 
 
232 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 it seemed. Then, all at once there came a puff, as if a long 
 breath had been drawn, like one lifting a heavy weight, 
 and then a dull thud. A brief silence and more scratching 
 in soft earth now. 
 
 He listened for perhaps an hour, and once a footstep 
 grated on the cement floor, and coals rattled down as if 
 they were disturbed. Once too a soft chirrup from up 
 above like the call of a wood bird, only strangely human 
 and the sounds in the cellar ceased altogether, till another 
 weird note sounded and they began again. 
 
 When he was satisfied with his investigations he began 
 slowly to back away from his position, lifting each atom 
 of muscle slowly one at a time till his going must have been 
 something like the motion picture of a bud unfolding, and 
 yet as silent as the flower grows he faded away from 
 that cellar window back into the green and no one was the 
 wiser. An hour later the watchful eye at the little half 
 moon opening in the shutter might have seen a little black 
 speck like a spider whizzing along on the Highroad and 
 turning down toward Sabbath Valley, but it never would 
 have looked as if it came from Stark mountain, for it was 
 headed straight from Lone Valley. Billy was going 
 home to get cleaned up and make a visit to the parsonage. 
 If that guy was still there he'd see how quick he would 
 leave ! If there wasn't one way to make him go there was 
 another, and Billy felt that he held the trick. 
 
 But as fate would have it Billy did not have to get 
 cleaned up, for Miss Severn stood on the front porch 
 looking off toward the mountains with that wistful ex- 
 pression of hers that made him want to laugh and cry and 
 run errands for her anywhere just to serve her and make 
 her smile, and she waved her hand at Billy, and ran down 
 to the gate to speak to him. 
 
 " Billy, I want to ask you, — If you were to see Mark 
 Carter — of course you mightn't, but then you might — 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE; 233 
 
 you'll let him know that we are of course his friends, and 
 that anything he wants done, if he'll just let us know — " 
 
 " Sure ! " said Billy Hghting off his wheel with a down- 
 ward glance at his dirty self, all leaves and dust and grime, 
 " Sure, he'd know that anyhow." 
 
 " Well, Billy, I know he would, but I mean, I thought 
 perhaps you might find something we could do, — some- 
 thing maybe without letting him know. He's very proud 
 about asking any help you, know, and he wouldn't want to 
 bother us. You may discover something he — needs — or 
 wants done — ^while — he is away — ^and maybe we could 
 help him out, Father or Mother or I. You'll remember, 
 won't you Billy? " 
 
 " Sure!" said Billy again feeling the warm glow of her 
 friendliness and loyalty to Mark, and digging his toes into 
 the turf embarrassedly. Then he looked up casually as he 
 was about to leave: 
 
 " Say is there a guy here named Shafton? Man from 
 n'Yark?" 
 
 "Why, yes," said Lynn looking at him curiously, 
 " Did you want to see him? " 
 
 " Well, if he's roimd I might. I got a message 
 for him." 
 
 She looked at him keenly : 
 
 " You haven't seen Mark to-day, have you, Billy? " 
 
 " Aw, naw, 'taint from him," he grinned reassuringly, 
 " He's away just now. But I might see him soon ya know, 
 ur hear from him." 
 
 Lynn's face cleared. " Yes, of course. His mother 
 told me he was suddenly called back to New York." 
 
 "Yep. That's right!" said Billy as if he knew all 
 about it, and pulled off his old cap with a glorious wave as 
 she turned to call the stranger. 
 
 Billy dropped his wheel at the curb and approached 
 the Steps as he saw Shafton coming slowly out leaning on 
 
S34 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 a cane. He rustled the folded newspaper out from his 
 pocket with one hand and shook it open as only a boy's 
 sleight of hand can do, wafting it in front of the aston- 
 ished Laurie, and saying with an impudent swag, 
 
 "Say, z'your name Shafton? Well, see that? Why 
 don't you beat it home ? Your ma is about t'croke, an' yer 
 dad has put up about all his dough, an' you better rustle 
 back to where you come from an' tell 'em not to b'leeve all 
 the bunk that's handed out to 'em! Good night! They 
 must need a nurse ! " 
 
 Laurie paused in the act of lighting one of his in- 
 terminable cigarettes with which he supplied the lack of a 
 stronger stimulant, and stared at the boy curiously, then 
 stared at the paper he held in his hand with the flaring 
 headlines, and reaching out his hand for it began to laugh : 
 
 " Well, upon my word. Kid, where'd you get this? If 
 that isn't a joke ! I wonder if Opal's seen it. Miss Severn, 
 come here ! See what a joke 1 I'm kidnapped ! Did you 
 ever hear the like? Look at the flowery sentences. It's 
 almost like reading one's own obituary, isn't it ? " 
 
 Marilyn, glancing over his shoulder at the headlines, 
 took in the import of it instantly. " I should think you'd 
 want to telephone your mother at once. How she must 
 have suffered ! " she said. 
 
 Laurie somewhat sobered agreed that it would be a 
 good idea : 
 
 " The mater's a good old scout," he said lightly, " She's 
 always helping me out of scrapes, but this is one too many 
 to give up her emeralds, the Shafton Emeralds! Gosh 
 but dad will be mad about them ! And Oh, say, call that 
 boy back will you? I want to give him a dollar ! " 
 
 But Billy had faded down the road with mortal indig- 
 nation in his breast. To think of giving up a ten thousand 
 dollar reward and having a dollar flung at you ! It seemed 
 to measure the very depth of the shame to which he 
 had descended. 
 
TEDE CITY OF FIKE 9SS 
 
 The Severns came a few paces out of their indifference 
 to this self-imposed guest and gathered aroimd the sheet 
 of newspaper while Laurie held an intensive conversation 
 with his family beginning with several servants who were 
 too excited at first to identify his voice. 
 
 But at last he hung up the receiver and turned 
 toward them: 
 
 " Well, I guess there's nothing for it but for me to 
 pull out. The mater doesn't think she'll be satisfied till 
 she has her hands on me. Besides I've got to get things 
 started about those jewels. Dad and mother are too 
 excited to know what they're about. I declare, it's like 
 being dead and seeing how they feel about it." 
 
 There was a boyish eager look about the young man's 
 face that made him for the first time seem rather loveable, 
 Mrs. Severn thought. The mother in her rose to appre- 
 ciation. Lynn was so glad that he was going away that 
 she was almost friendly during lunch. And when the 
 young man was about to depart he went to Mr. Severn's 
 study and wrote a check for five hundred dollars : 
 
 " Just in appreciation of your kindness," he said as 
 he held it out to the minister. 
 
 The minister looked amused but did not offer to 
 take it : 
 
 " That's all right," he said pleasantly, " We don't keep 
 boarders you know. You were welcome to what we could 
 give you." 
 
 " But, my dear sir, I couldn't think of not remuner- 
 ating you," declared Laurie. 
 
 "And I couldn't think of taking it," smiled the 
 minister. 
 
 " Well, then take it for your poor people," he insisted. 
 
 "From what Lynn tells me you have mpre of those 
 than we have," answered the minister. 
 
 The young man looked annoyed : 
 
 "Well, then take it for something for your church, 
 
236 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 another bell or something, anything you're interested in." 
 
 " I can give you an address of a young missionary out 
 West who is having a hard time of it, and has a very 
 needy parish,*' said the minister taking out his foimtain 
 pen and writing the address on a card, " but I should pre- 
 fer that you would send it to him yourself. He wouldn't 
 take it from me, but if you'd send it he'll write and tell you 
 what he does with it, and he'll tell me too, so it will give 
 pleasure all around. He's a game young chap, and he's 
 given his life. You couldn't help but like him." 
 
 Laurie had to be content with this, though he felt 
 annoyed at having to write a letter to a missionary. He 
 felt he shouldn't know how to address him. 
 
 " I'll send it to-night when I get home," he declared, 
 " or no, I'll send it now," and he sat down at the minister's 
 desk, and scribbled a note. It read : " Your friend Severn 
 won't take anything himself for kindness to me, so he's 
 letting me send you this for your work. Here's wishing 
 you good luck." This he signed and handed to the min- 
 ister with a relieved air as if to say: "There! 
 That's that!" 
 
 " You see," said Laurie getting up and taking his hat 
 again, " I want to come back here again and see your 
 daughter. I may as well tell you I'm crazy about 
 your daughter." 
 
 " I see," said the minister gravely, albeit with a twinkle 
 in his eye, " The fact is I'm somewhat crazy about her 
 myself. But in all kindness I may as well tell you that 
 you'll be wasting your time. She isn't your kind 
 you know." 
 
 "Oh, well," said Laurie with an assured shrug, "That's 
 all right if I don't mind, isn't it?" 
 
 "Well, no," said the minister smiling broadly now, 
 " You forget that she might mind, you know." 
 
 " I don't gQt you," said Laurie looking puzzled as he 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 237 
 
 fitted on his immaculate driving glove, " She might mind, 
 what do you mean? " 
 
 " I mean that my daughter minds very much indeed 
 whether her men friends ask in a certain tone of voice for 
 something to drink at midnight, and use language such as 
 you used when you first arrived here, smoke continual 
 cigarettes, and have friends like the young woman who 
 visited you last Sunday." 
 
 " Oh ! I see ! " laughed Laurie thoroughly amused, 
 "Well, after all, one doesn't have to keep on doing all 
 those things you know — if it were worth one's while to 
 change them." 
 
 " I'm afraid," said the minister still amused, " that 
 it would have to be worth your while to change before 
 she would even consider you as a possibility. She hap- 
 pens to have a few ideas about what it takes to make a 
 man, her ideal man, you know." 
 
 Laurie smiled gaily : 
 
 " Perhaps I can change those ideas.'* 
 
 " Help yourself young man. You'll find it a task, I 
 assure you." 
 
 " Well, I'm coming back, anyway." 
 
 " We shall welcome you," said the minister politely, 
 but not at all gladly, and Laurie departed without his usual 
 complacency, assuring the minister that he had found 
 Sabbath Valley the garden spot of the world and meant to 
 return soon and often. 
 
 Billy watched him from the graveyard enclosure 
 whither he had retired to write a letter, and he made a face 
 and wasted a gesture of defiance after his departing car. 
 So much Billy felt he had accomplished toward reparation. 
 He was now attempting a third act. 
 
 On the smooth end of the old stone he had a newspaper 
 spread, and upon that a sheet of letter paper which he had 
 extracted from Aunt Saxon's ancient box in the old secre- 
 
238 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 tary in the corner of the kitchen. Kneeling beside the 
 stone he carefully inscribed the following words; 
 
 " Yoors to cummand, 
 B. Gaston." 
 
 He folded the paper with his smudgy fingers, and 
 stuffed it into a soiled envelope on which he wrote Mark's 
 name, and as he had seen Lynn write down in the corner 
 of a note that he had taken to Monopoly for her, **Kindness 
 of Billy," so he wrote " Kindnus of Cheef." Then he 
 mounted his wheel and rode to Economy. After some 
 apparently aimless riding he brought up at the back of the 
 Chief's garage where he applied a canny eye to a crack and 
 ascertained just how many and what cars were inside. He 
 then rode straight to the bank where he was pretty sure 
 the Chief would be standing near the steps at this hour. 
 Waiting a time of leisure he handed him the envelope : 
 
 " Say, Chief, c'n I trouble you to d'liver that? " 
 
 The Chief looked at the envelope and then at Billy and 
 opened his lips to speak, but Billy forestalled him : 
 
 " I know you don't know where he is at all now. Chief, 
 o' course, but I just thought you might happen to meet up 
 with him sometime soon. That's all right, Chief. Thank 
 ya." Billy ended with a knowing wink. 
 
 The Chief turned the envelope over, noted that it was 
 unsealed, grinned back and put it in his pocket. They had 
 been good friends, these two, for several years, ever since 
 Billy had been caught bearing the penalty for another 
 boy's misdemeanor. 
 
 "That's all right Billy," said the Chief affably, *T won't 
 forget it — if I see him! Seen anything more of those 
 automobile thieves ? " 
 
 " Nope," said Billy sadly, " but I gotta line on 'em. 
 'f'l find anythin' more I'll callyaup! " 
 
 "Do!" said the Chief cordially, and the interview 
 was closed. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 239 
 
 Billy bought some cakes at the bakery with ten cents 
 he had earned running an errand from the grocery that 
 morning, and departed on important business. He had 
 definitely decided to give up his thirty pieces of silver. No 
 more blood money for him. His world was upside down 
 and all he loved were suffering, and all because he had been 
 mercenary. The only way to put things right was to get 
 rid of any gain that might accrue to himself. Then he 
 would be in a position to do something. And Pat was 
 his first object now. He meant to give back the money 
 to Pat ! He had thought it all out, and he meant to waste 
 no time in getting things straight. 
 
 He went to the Economy post office and on the back 
 of a circular that he found in the waste basket he wrote 
 another note: 
 
 " Pat. This is blood money an' I can't kep it. I didunt ^^^"^ 
 no when I undertuk the job wot kind of a job it was. ^^'^^^'^^ 
 Thers only one way fur yoo to kep yur hid saf , an that is to /i>^ ^ ,ti^ 
 tel the trooth abot wot hapuned. If yoo ar wiling to tel y^^^-t>i^ 
 the trooth put a leter heer say in so. If yoo dont I am ^o >/B^y 
 havin' you watshed an you will los yoor job an likely be 
 hanged. We are artund so be keerful. This aint yella. 
 This is rite. 
 
 THE KID." 
 
 It was a long job and he was tired when it was finished, 
 for his days at school had been full of so many other things 
 besides lessons that literary efforts were always strenuous 
 for him. When he had finished he went out and carried 
 three parcels for the meat market, receiving in return 
 thirty cents, which exactly made up the sum he had spent 
 from his tainted money. With this wrapped bunglingly 
 in his note he proceeded to ambush near Pleasant Valley. 
 He had other fish to fry, but not till dark. Meantime, if 
 that underground telephone was being used at other times 
 in the day he wanted to know it, 
 
UO THE CITY OF FIRE | 
 
 He placed the note and money obviously before the 
 little hidden telephone from which he had cleared the 
 leaves and rubbish that hid it, and then retired to cover 
 where he settled himself comfortably. He knew Pat 
 would be busy till the two evening trains had arrived, after 
 that if he did not come there would likely be no calls before 
 morning again, and he could go on his way. With a pleas- 
 ant snack of sugar cookies and cream puffs he lay back 
 and closed his eyes, glad of this brief respite from his life 
 of care and perplexity. Of course he couldn't get away 
 from his thoughts, but what a pleasant place this was, with 
 the scent of sassafras and winter green all around him, 
 and the meadow lark high in the air somewhere. There 
 were bees in the wild honeysuckle not far away. He could 
 hear their lazy drone. It would be nice to be a bee and fly, 
 fly away from everything. Did bees care about things? 
 Did they have troubles, and love folks and lose 'em? When 
 a bee died did the other bees care ? Aw Gee ! Mark in — 
 j — No! He wouldn't say it! Mark was in New York! 
 Yes, of course he was. It would all come right some day. 
 He would catch those crooks and put 'em in jail — no, first 
 he'd use 'em to clear Mark. When he got done here he was 
 going up to watch the old house and find out about that 
 noise, and he'd see whether Link and Shorty would put 
 anything more over ! Link and Shorty and Pat, and that 
 sissy Shafton and Sam, whoever Sam was ! They were all 
 his enemies ! If Mark were only here how they would go 
 to that old haunted house together and work this thing 
 out. He ought to have told Mark ever3^hing. Fool ! Just 
 to save his own hide ! Just to keep Mark from blaming 
 him! Well, he was done saving himself or getting ill 
 gotten gains. Plim for honesty for the rest of his life. 
 
 The bees droned on and the lark grew fainter and 
 fainter. Billy's eyes drooped closer shut, his long curling 
 lashes lay on his freckled cheeks the way they lay some- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 241 
 
 times when Aunt Saxon came to watch him. That 
 adorable sweep of lash that all mothers of boys know, that 
 air of dignity and innocence that makes you forget the day 
 and its doings and undoings and think only, this is a man 
 child, a wonderful creature of God, beloved and strong, a 
 gift of heaven, a wonder in daytime, a creature to be 
 afraid of sometimes, but weak in sleep, adorable I 
 
 Billy slept. 
 
 The afternoon train lumbered in with two freight 
 cars behind, and a lot of crates and boxes to manipulate, 
 but Billy slept. The five o'clock train slid in and the 
 evening express with its toll of guests for the Lake Hotel 
 who hustled off wearily, cheerily, and on to the little Lake 
 train that stood with an expectant insolent air like a neces- 
 sary evil waiting for a tip. The two trains champed and 
 puffed and finally scampered away, leaving echoes all 
 along the valley, and a red stream of sun down the track 
 behind them from a sky aflame in the west preparing for 
 a brilliant sunset. The red fingers of the sun touched the 
 freckles on Billy's cheek lightly as if to warn him that the 
 time had come. The shutters slammed on at the little sta- 
 tion. The agent climbed the hill to his shack among the 
 pines. Pat came out the door and stood on the platform 
 looking down the valley, waiting for the agent to get out 
 of sight. 
 
 And Billy slept on! 
 
 16 
 
XXII 
 
 Three days later a pall hung over Sabbath Valley. 
 The coroner's inquest had brought in a verdict of murder, 
 and the day of the hearing had been set. Mark Carter 
 was to be tried for murder — ^was wanted for murder as 
 Elder Harricutt put it. It was out now and everybody 
 knew it but Mrs. Carter, who went serenely on her way 
 getting her regular letters from Mark postmarked New; 
 York and telling of little happenings that were vague 
 but pleasant and sounded so like Mark, so comforting and 
 son like. So strangely tender and comforting and more 
 in detail than Mark's letters had been wont to be. She 
 thought to herself that he was growing up at last. He spoke 
 of a time when he and she would have a nice home together 
 somewhere, some new place where he would get into 
 business and make a^ lot of money. Would she like that? 
 And once he told her he was afraid he hadn't been a very 
 good son to her, but sometime he would try to make it up 
 to her, and she cried over that letter for sheer joy. But 
 all the rest of the town knew that Mark was suspected of 
 murder, and most of them thought he had run away and 
 nobody could find him. The county papers hinted that 
 there were to be strange revelations when the time of the 
 trial came, but nothing definite seemed to come out from 
 day to day more than had been said at first, and there was 
 a strange lack of any mention of Mark in connection with 
 it after the first day. 
 
 Lynn Severn went about the house quiet and white, her 
 face looking like an angel's prayer, one continual petition, 
 but she was sweet and patient, and ready to do anything 
 for anybody. Work seemed to be her only respite from 
 the gnawing horror of her thoughts. To know that the 
 
 £42 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 243 
 
 whole village believed that Mark, her life long playmate, 
 had been guilty of a crime so heinous was so appalling that 
 sometimes she just stood at the window and laughed out 
 into the sunshine at the crazy idea of it. It simply could not 
 be. Mark, who had always been so gentle and tender for 
 every living thing, so chivalrous, so ready to help! To 
 think of Mark killing anyone ! And yet, they might have 
 needed killing. At least, of course she didn't mean that, 
 but there were circumstances under which she could 
 lagine almost anyone doing a deed — well what was the 
 >e, there was no way to excuse or explain a thing she 
 didn't understand, and she could just do nothing but not 
 believe any of it until she knew. She would trust in God, 
 and yes, she would trust in Mark as she always had done, 
 at least until she had his own word that he was not trust- 
 ible. That haughty withdrawing of himself on Sunday 
 Jjtiight and his " I am not worthy " meant nothing to her 
 now when it came trailing across her consciousness. It 
 only seemed one more proof of his tender conscience, his 
 care for her reputation. He had known then what they 
 were saying about him, he must have known the day before 
 that there was something that put him in a position so that 
 he felt it was not good for her reputation to be his friend. 
 He had withdrawn to protect her. That was the way 
 she explained it to her heart, while yet beneath it all was 
 the deep down hurt that he had not trusted her, and let 
 her be his friend in trouble as well as when all was well. 
 
 She had written him a little note, not too intimate, just 
 as a sister might have written, expressing her deep trust, 
 and her sincere desire to stand by and help in any time of 
 need. In it she begged him to think her worthy of sharing 
 his trouble as he used to share his happiness, and to 
 know always that she was his friend whatever came. She 
 had read it over and over to be sure she was not over- 
 stepping her womanly right to say these things, and had 
 
244 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 prayed about it a great deal. But when it came to sending 
 it she did not know his New York address. He had 
 been strangely silent during the last few months and had 
 not written her. She did not want to ask his mother. So 
 she planned to find it out through Billy. But Billy did 
 not come. It had been two days since Billy had been 
 around, or was it three? She was standing at the window 
 looking down the road toward the Saxon cottage and won- 
 dering if she wanted to go down and hunt for Billy when 
 she saw Miss Saxon coming up the street and turning in 
 at the gate, and her face looked wan and crumpled like 
 an old rose that had been crushed and left on the parlor 
 floor all night. 
 
 She turned from the window and hurried down : 
 *'Miss Marilyn," Aunt Saxon greeted her with a gush 
 of tears, " I don't know what to do. Billy's away ! He 
 hasn't been home for three days and three nights! His 
 bed ain't been touched. He never did that before except 
 that last time when he stayed out to help Mark Carter that 
 time on the mountain with that sick man, and I can't think 
 what's the matter. I went to Miz Carter's, but she ain't 
 seen him, and she says Mark's up to his business in New 
 York, so Billy can't be with him, and I just know he's 
 kilt. Miss Marilyn. I just know he's kilt. I dreamt of a 
 shroud night before last and I can't help thinkin' he's kiltT 
 and the tears poured down the tired Httle face pitifully. 
 
 Marilyn drew her tenderly into the house and made her 
 sit down by the cool window, brought a palm leaf fan and 
 a footstool, and told Naomi to make some iced orangeade. 
 Then she called her mother and went and sat down by the 
 poor little creature who now that somebody else was going 
 to do something about it had subsided into her chair with 
 relief born of exhaustion. She had not slept for three 
 nights and two of those days she had washed all day. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 245 
 
 " Now, Miss Saxon, dear, you're not to worry," said 
 the girl taking the fan and waving it gently back and forth, 
 touching the work-worn hand tenderly with her other 
 hand, " Billy is not dead, Fm sure ! Oh, I'm quite sure ! I 
 think somehow it would be hard to kill Billy. He has ways 
 of keeping alive that most of us don't enjoy. He is strong 
 and young and sharp as a needle. No one can put anything 
 over on Billy, and I have somehow a feeling. Miss Saxon 
 that Billy is off somewhere doing something very im- 
 portant for somebody. He is that way you know. He 
 does nice unusual things that nobody else would think of 
 doing, and I just expect you'll find out some day that Billy 
 has been doing one of those. There's that man on the 
 mountain, for instance. He might be still very sick, and 
 it would be just like Billy to stay and see to him. Maybe 
 there isn't anybody else around to do it, and now that 
 Mark has gone he would feel responsible about it. Of 
 course he ought to have told you before he went, but he 
 wouldn't likely have expected to stay long, and then 
 boys don't think. They don't realize how hard it it is not 
 to understand — ! " 
 
 " Thas'so, Miss Marilyn," sniffed Miss Saxon, " He 
 don't hardly ever think. But he mighta phomed." 
 
 " Well, it isn't likely they have phones on the mountain, 
 and you haven't any, have you ? How could he ? " 
 
 " He mighta phomed to you." 
 
 "Yes, he might, but you know how boys are, he 
 wouldn't want to bother anybody. And if the man was in 
 a lonely cabin somewhere he couldn't get to a phone." 
 
 " Thas'so too. Oh, Miss Marilyn, you always do think 
 up comfort. You're just like your ma and pa. But Billy, 
 he's been so kinda peaked lately, so sorta gentle, and then 
 again sorta crazy like, just like his mother useta be 'fore 
 her husband left her. I couldn't help worryin'." 
 
 " Well, now, Miss Saxon, I'll inquire around all I can 
 
«46 THE CITY OF FIEE 
 
 without rousing any suspicion. You know Billy would 
 hate that/' 
 
 " Oh, I know he would," flushed the little woman 
 nervously. 
 
 " So I'll just ask the boys if they know where he is 
 and where they saw him last, and don't you worry. FU 
 tell them I have a message for him you know, and you just 
 stop crying and rest easy and don't tell a soul yet till I look 
 around. Here comes mother. She'll help you better than 
 I can." 
 
 Mrs. Severn in a cool white dimity came quietly into 
 the room, bringing a restful calm with her, and while Lynn 
 was out on her errand of mercy she slipped a strong arm 
 around the other woman's waist and had her down on her 
 knees in the alcove behind the curtains, and had committed 
 the whole matter to a loving Heavenly Father, Billy and 
 the tired little Aunt, and all the little details of life that 
 harrow so on a burdened soul ; and somehow when they 
 rose the day was cooler, and life looked more possible to 
 poor Aunt Saxon. 
 
 Presently came Lynn, brightly. She had seen the boys. 
 They had met Billy in Economy day before yesterday. He 
 had said he had a job, he didn't know how long it would 
 last, and he might not be able to come to base ball practice. 
 He told them who to put in his place till he got back. 
 
 " There, now, Miss Saxon, you go home and lie down 
 and take a good sleep. You've put this whole thing in the 
 hands of the Lord, now don't take it out again. Just trust 
 Him. Billy'll come back safe and sound, and there'll be 
 some good reason for it," said Mrs. Severn. And Aunt 
 Saxon, smiling wistfully, shyly apologetic for her foolish- 
 ness, greatly cheered and comforted, went. But Lynn went 
 up to her little white room and prayed earnestly, adding 
 Billy to her prayer for Mark. Where was Billy Gaston? 
 
 When Miss Saxon went home she found a letter in the 
 
I 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 247 
 
 letter box out by the gate addressed to Billy. This set her 
 heart to palpitating again and she almost lost her faith 
 in prayer and took to her own worries once more. But she 
 carried the letter in and held it up to the window, trying 
 her best to make out anything written therein. She justi- 
 fied this to her conscience by saying that it might give a 
 clue to Billy's whereabouts. Billy never got letters. Maybe, 
 it might be from his long lost father, though they had all 
 reason to believe him dead. Or maybe — Oh, what if 
 Albert Gaston had come back and kidnapped Billy! The 
 thought was too awful. She dropped right down in the 
 kitchen where she stood by the old patchwork rocking chair 
 that always stood handy in the window when she wanted to 
 peel potatoes, and prayed : " Oh, God, don't let it be ! 
 Don't bring that bad man back to this world again ! Take 
 care of my Billy and bring him back to me. Amen ! " Over 
 and over again she prayed, and it seemed to comfort her. 
 Then she rose, and put the tea kettle on and carefully 
 steamed open the letter. She had not lost all hope when 
 she took time to steam it open in place of tearing it, for 
 she was still worse afraid that Billy might return and scold 
 her for meddling with his precious letter, then she was 
 afraid he would not return. While the steam was gather- 
 ing she tried to justify herself in Billy's eyes for opening 
 it at all. After her prayer it seemed a sort of desecration. 
 So the kettle had almost boiled away before she mustered 
 courage to hold the envelope over the steam, and while she 
 did this she noticed for the first time significantly that 
 the postmark was New York. Perhaps it was from Mark. 
 Then Billy was not with Mark! But perhaps the letter 
 would tell. 
 
 So she opened the flap very carefully, and pulled out 
 the single sheet of paper, stepping nearer the window to 
 read it in the late afternoon light. It read : " Dear Kid, 
 shut your mouth and saw wood. Buddy." That was all. 
 
^8 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Aunt Saxon lifted frightened eyes and stared at the 
 lilac bush outside the window, the water spout where Billy 
 often shinned up and down, the old apple tree that he would 
 climb before he was large enough to be trusted, and then 
 she read the letter again. But it meant nothing to her. It 
 seemed a horrible riddle. She took a pencil and a scrap of 
 paper and quickly transcribed the mysterious words, omit- 
 ting not even the punctuation, and then hurriedly returned 
 the letter to its envelope, clapped the flap down and held it 
 tight. When it was dry she put the letter up in plain sight 
 on the top of the old secretary where Billy could find it at 
 once when he came in. She was taking no chances on Billy 
 finding her opening his mail. It never had happened be- 
 fore, because Billy never had had a letter before, 
 except notices about base ball and athletic association, 
 but she meant it never should happen. She knew instinc- 
 tively that if it ever did she would lose Billy, if not 
 immediately, then surely eventually, for Billy resented 
 above all things interference. Then Aunt Saxon sat 
 down to study the transcription. But after a long and 
 thorough perusal she folded it carefully and pinned it in 
 her bosom. But she went more cheerily down to the 
 market to get something for supper. Billy might come 
 any time now. His letter was here, and he would surely 
 come home to get his letter. 
 
 Down at the store she met Marilyn, who told her she 
 looked better already, and the poor soul, never able to hold 
 her tongue, had to tell the girl about the letter. 
 
 " He's had a letter,'* she said brightening, " about a 
 job I guess. It was there when I got back. It's sawing 
 wood. The letter doesn't have any head. It just says 
 about sawing wood. I 'spose that's where he is, but he 
 ought to have let me know. He was afraid Td make a 
 fuss about it, I always do. I'm afraid of those big saws 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 they use. He's so careless. But he was set on a grown- 
 up job. I couldn't get him to paste labels on cans at the 
 factory, he said it was too much of a kid game.'* 
 
 " Oh," said Marilyn, wondering, " Sawing wood. 
 Well, that's where he is of course, and it's good healthy 
 work. I wouldn't worry. Billy is pretty careful I think. 
 He'll take care of himself." 
 
 But to herself on the way home she said : " How queer 
 for Billy to go off sawing wood just now ! It doesn't seem 
 like him. They can't be so hard up. There must be some- 
 thing behind it all I hope I didn't start anything asking 
 him to stick by Mark ! Oh, where is Mark ? " 
 
 That afternoon Marilyn took a horseback ride, and 
 touched all the points she knew where there might be 
 likely to be woodsawing going on, but no Billy was on the 
 job anywhere. 
 
 As she rode home through Economy she saw Mrs. 
 Fenner scuttling down a side street from the jail, and 
 hurrying into her own side gate like a little fright- 
 ened lizard. 
 
 Marilyn came back home heart sick and sad, and took 
 refuge in the church and her bells. At least she could call 
 to Billy across the hills somewhere by playing the songs 
 he loved the best. And perhaps their echoes would some- 
 how cross the miles to Mark too, by that strange mys- 
 terious power that spirit can reach to spirit across space or 
 years or even estrangement, and draw the thoughts irre- 
 sistibly. So she sat at the organ and played her heart out, 
 ringing all the old sweet songs that Mark used to love 
 when the bells first were new and she was learning to play 
 them; Highland Laddie, Bonnie Bonnie Warld, Mavour- 
 neen, Kentucky Home, songs that she had kept fresh in 
 her heart and sometimes played for Billy now and then. 
 And then the old hymns. Did they echo far enough to 
 
^0 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 reach him where he had gone, Mark sitting alone in his 
 inferno ? Billy holding his breath and trying to find a way 
 out of his ? Did they hear those bells calling? 
 
 **0h, God our help in ages past, 
 Our hope for years to come! 
 Our refuge from the stormy blast. 
 And our eternal home!" 
 
 The soul of the girl in the little dusky church went up 
 in a prayer with the bells. 
 
 "Before the hills in order stood. 
 Or earth received her frame. 
 From everlasting Thou art God! 
 A thousand years the samel" 
 
 Every mortal in the village knew the words, and in 
 kitchens now, preparing savory suppers, or down in the 
 mills and factories, or out on the street coming home, they 
 were humming them, or repeating them over in their 
 hearts. The bells did not ring the melody alone. The 
 message was well known and came to every heart. Mark 
 and Billy knew them too. Perhaps by telepathy the tune 
 would travel to their minds and bring their words along : 
 
 "Under the shadow of Thy wings 
 Thy saints have dwelt secure, 
 Sufficient is Thine arm alone, 
 And Thy defense is sure!" 
 
 The bells ceased ringing and the vibration slowly died 
 away, hill answering to hill, in waves of softly fading 
 sound, while the people went to their suppers with a light 
 of blessing and uplift on their faces. But in the darkened 
 church, Marilyn, with her fingers on the keys and her 
 face down upon her hands was praying, praying that God 
 would shelter Mark and Billy. 
 
XXIII 
 
 High in the tree over Billy' head a little chipmunk 
 whisked with a nut in his mouth. He selected a comfort- 
 able rocking branch, unfurled his tail for a wind shield at 
 his back, and sat up to his supper table as it were with the 
 nut in his two hands. Something unusual caught his at- 
 tention as he was about to attack the nutshell, and he 
 cocked his little striped head around, up, and down, and 
 took in Billy. Then a squirrel smile overspread his furry 
 face and a twinkle seemed to come in his eye. With a 
 wink down toward Billy he went to work. Crack, crack, 
 crack ! The shell was open. Crack ! And a large section 
 fell, whirling spinning down, straight down. The squirrel 
 paused in his nibbling and cocked an eye again with that 
 mischievous twinkle as if he enjoyed the joke, watching 
 the light bit of shell in its swift descent, plump on the end 
 of Billy's nose. It couldn't have hit straighter if Chippie 
 had been pitcher for the Sabbath Valley base ball team. 
 
 Billy opened his eyes with a start and a scowl, and there 
 before him, glaring like a wild beast, thick lips agap show- 
 ing gnarled yellow teeth, wicked eyes, red glittering and 
 murderous, was Pat, ugly, formidable and threatening! 
 
 " Come outta there you little varmint you ! " roared 
 Pat. " Come out and I'll skin the nasty yella hide off'n ya. 
 I gotcha good and hard now right where I wantcha an' 
 ye won't — " 
 
 Bang! Click!— BANG! 
 
 Billy had been lying among the thick undergrowth, flat 
 on his back, his left arm flung above his head, but his right 
 arm was thrust out from his body under a thick clump of 
 laurel, and his right hand held the gun ready for any 
 emergency when he inadvertently went to sleep. The gun 
 
 251 
 
25£ THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 was pointed down the Valley along the ground and his 
 fingers wrapped knowingly, loving around the weapon, — 
 he had so long wanted to own one of his own. That gun 
 was not included in the blood money and was not to be 
 returned. It was a perquisite of war. 
 
 Billy was all there always, and even awakening sud- 
 denly from much needed sleep he was on the job. One 
 glance at Pat's devilish face and his fingers automatically 
 pulled the trigger. The report roared out along the Valley 
 like a volley from a regiment. 
 
 Billy hardly felt the rebound of the weapon before he 
 realized that Patrick was no more between his vision and 
 the sun's last rays. Patrick was legging it down the Val- 
 ley with all the strength he had left, and taking no time to 
 look back. Billy had presence of mind to let off another 
 volley before he rose to investigate ; but there was nothing 
 left of Pat but a ruffled path in the undergrowth and a 
 waving branch or two he had turned aside in his going. 
 So that was that 1 Doggone it, why did he have to go to 
 sleep? If he had only been ready he could have managed 
 this affair so much better for his own ends. He wanted 
 a heart to heart talk with Pat while he had him good and 
 frightened, and now it was too late. He must get 
 back to the other job. He shinned up a tree and 
 observed the broad shoulders of Pat wallowing up the 
 bank over by the railroad. He was going back to the 
 station. It was as well. He might see him again tomor- 
 row perhaps, for Pat he must have as evidence. And 
 besides, Pat might read the note and conclude to come back 
 and answer it. 
 
 Billy parted the bushes to see if Pat had taken the 
 money and note with him, and lo, here was the rude moun- 
 tain telephone box wide open wth the bunch of keys in the 
 lock just as Pat must have left it when he discovered the 
 paper and money, or perhaps Pat had been going to report 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 253 
 
 ■o 
 
 Sam what had happened, who knew? You see Billy 
 knew nothing of his little red and brown striped partner 
 up in the tree who had dropped a nut to warn him of 
 danger, and did not realize that Chippie had also startled 
 Pat, and set him looking among the bushes for the sources 
 of the sound. 
 
 But Billy knew how to take advantage of a situation 
 if he didn't know what made it, and in a trice he was 
 down on his knees with the crude receiver in his hands. 
 It was too late to ride down to the Blue Duck and tele- 
 phone, but here was a telephone come to him, and now was 
 a chance to try if it was a telephone at all, or only a private 
 wire run secretly. He waited breathless with the long 
 hum of wires in his ears, and then a quick click and "Num- 
 ber please.'' Billy could hardly command his voice but he 
 murmured " Economy 13 " in a low growl, his hard young 
 hands shaking with excitement. "Your letter please!" 
 Billy looked wildly at the rough box but could see no sign 
 of number. " Why, it's the station, doncha know? What's 
 thamatterwithya ? " His spirits were rising. "J" stated 
 the operator patiently. " Well, jay then," said Billy, 
 *' Whaddolcare ? " " Just-a-minute-please," and suddenly 
 the Chief's voice boomed out reassuringly. Billy cast a 
 furtive eye back of him in the dusk and fell to his business 
 with relief. 
 
 "Say, Chief, that you? This's Bill! Say, Chief, I 
 wantcha he'p right away pretty quick ! Got a line on those 
 guys! You bring three men an' ge'down on the Lone 
 Valley Road below Stark mountain an' keep yer eye peeled 
 t' ward the hanted house. Savvy ? Yes, old hanted house, 
 you know. You wait there till I signal. Yes, flash ! Listen, 
 one wink if you go to right, two come up straight, and 
 three to the left. If it's only one repeated several times, 
 you spread all round. Yep. I'm goin' up there right now. 
 No, Chief, I wouldn't call ye f 1 didn't think t'was pretty 
 
254 THE CITY OF^FIRE 
 
 sure. Yep! I think they'll come out soon's it gets real 
 dark. Yep, I think they ben there all day. I ain't sure, 
 but I think. You won't fail me, will you Chief. No, sure ! 
 I'll stick by. Be sure to bring three men, there's two of 
 'em, I ain't rightly sure but three. I jus' stirred another 
 up. Whatssay? No, I'm 'lone! Aw, I'm awright ! Sure. 
 I'll be careful. Whatssay? Where? Oh' I'm at a hole in 
 the ground. Yes, down below Pleasant Valley station. 
 Some telephone! I'll show it to you t'morra! S'long, 
 Chief, I gotta go! It's gettin' dark, goobbye!" 
 
 Billy gave hurried glances about and rustled under 
 the branches like a snake over to where old trusty 
 lay. In ten minutes more he was worming his way up the 
 side of Stark mountain, while Pat was fortifying himself 
 well within the little station, behind tables and desks for 
 the night, and scanning the Valley from the dusty win- 
 dow panes. 
 
 Billy parked his wheel in its usual place and con- 
 tinued up the hill to the opening at the back, then stood 
 long listening. Once he thought he heard something drop 
 inside the kitchen door, but no sound followed it and he 
 concluded it had been a rat. Half way between himself 
 and the back door something gleamed faintly in the star- 
 light. He didn't remember to have seen anything there 
 before. He stole cautiously over, moving so slowly that 
 he could not even hear himself. He paused beside the gleam 
 and examined. It was an empty flask still redolent. 
 Ummm ! Booze ! Billy wasn't surprised. Of course they 
 would try to get something to while away their seclusion 
 until they dared venture forth with their booty. He con- 
 tinued his cautious passage toward the house and then 
 began to encircle it, keeping close to the wall and feeling 
 his way along, for the moon would be late and small that 
 night and he must work entirely by starlight. It was his 
 intention after going around the house to enter and recon- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE ^55 
 
 noitre in his stocking feet. As he neared the front of the 
 house he dropped both hands to his sweater pockets, the 
 revolver in his right hand with its two precious cartridges, 
 the flash Hght which he had taken care to renew in Economy 
 in his left hand, fingers ready to use either instantly. He 
 turned the corner and stole on toward the front door, still 
 noiseless as a mouse would go, his rubber sneakers touching 
 like velvet in the grass. 
 
 He was only two feet from the front stoop when he 
 become aware of danger, something, a familiar scent, a 
 breathlessness, and then a sudden stir. A dark thing ahead 
 and the feeling of something coming behind. Billy as if a 
 football signal had been given, grew calm and alert. In- 
 stantly both arms flashed up, and down the mountain shot 
 two long yellow winks of light, and simultaneously two 
 sharp reports of a gun, followed almost instantly by an- 
 other shot, more sinister in sound, and Billy's right arm 
 dropped limply by his side, while a sick wave of pain passed 
 over him. 
 
 But he could not stop for that. He remembered the 
 day when Mark had been coaching the football team and 
 had told them that they must not stop for anything when 
 they were in action. If they thought their legs were broken, 
 or they were mortally wounded and dying, they must not 
 even think of it. Football was the one thing, and they were 
 to forget they were dead and go ahead with every whiff of 
 punch there was in them, blind or lame, or dead even, be- 
 cause when they were playing, football was the only thing 
 that counted. And if they were sick or wounded or bleed- 
 ing let the wound or the sickness take care of itself. They 
 were playing football! So Billy felt now. 
 
 He hurled himself viciously at the dark shadow ahead, 
 which he mentally registered as Link because he seemed 
 long to tackle, and then kicked behind at the thing that came 
 after, and struggled manfully with a throttling hand on his 
 
256 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 throat till a wad of vile cloth was forced into his mouth — 
 and just as he had a half Nelson on Shorty, too! If he 
 could have got Shorty down and stood on him he might 
 have beaten off Link until Chief got there. Where was 
 Chief? Where was the gun? Where was he? His head 
 was swimming. Was it his head he had hit against the wall, 
 or did he bang Shorty's? How it resounded! There were 
 winding stairs in his head and he seemed to be climbing 
 them, up, up, up, till he dropped in a heap on the floor, a 
 hard floor all dust, and the dust came into his nostrils. He 
 was choking with that rag ! Why couldn't he pull it out ? 
 What was cutting his wrists when he tried to raise his 
 hand? And what was that queer pain in his shoulder? 
 
 There were shouts outside. How did he get inside? 
 Was that more shooting ? Perhaps he had found his gun 
 after all. Perhaps he was shooting the men before the 
 Chief got there, and that was bad, because he didn't feel 
 competent to judge about a thing as serious as shooting 
 with that dirty rag in his mouth. He must get rid of it 
 somehow. Doggone it! He had somehow got his hands 
 all tangled up in cords, and he must get them out no matter 
 if they did cut. He had to give the Chief a signal. 
 
 He struggled again with all his might, and something 
 somewhere gave way. He wasn't sure what, but he seemed 
 to be sinking down, perhaps down stairs or down the 
 mountain, somehow so it was down where the Chief — ! 
 where Mark ! The light in his brain went out and he lay as 
 one dead in the great dusty front bedroom where a man 
 who had sinned, hanged himself once because he couldn't 
 bear his conscience any longer. 
 
 And outside in the front door yard five men struggled 
 in the dark, with curses, and shots, and twice one almost 
 escaped, for Link was desperate, having a record behind 
 him that would be enough for ten men to run away from. 
 
 But after the two were bound and secured in the car 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE U7 
 
 down at the foot of the mountain, the Chief lingered, and 
 looking up said in a low tone to one of his men : " I won-' 
 der where that boy is ! " 
 
 " Oh, he's all right," said his assistant easily, " he's 
 off on another piece of business by this time. Chief. He 
 likes to seem mysterious. It's just his way. Say, Chief, 
 we gotta get back if we wantta meet that train down at 
 Unity t'night." 
 
 That was true too, and most important, so the Chief 
 with a worried glance toward the dark mountain turned 
 his car and hurried his captives away. Now that they were 
 where he could get a glance at them in the dim light of the 
 car, he felt pretty sure they were a couple of " birds ^' he 
 liad been looking for for quite a while. If that was so he 
 must reward Billy somehow. That boy was a little 
 wonder. He would make a detective some day. It 
 wouldn't be a bad idea to take him on in a quiet sort of 
 way and train him. He might be a great help. He mustn't 
 forget this night's work. And what was that the kid had said 
 about a secret underground wire? He must look into it, 
 as soon as this murder trial was off the docket. That 
 murder trial worried him. He didn't Hke the turn things^ 
 were taking. 
 
 17 
 
XXIII 
 
 In the gray of the morning Billy came to himself and 
 stared around in the stuffy grimness everywhere. The gag 
 was still in his mouth He put up his hand involuntarily 
 and pulled it out, and then remembered that his hands had 
 been tied. Then he must have succeeded in breaking the 
 cord ! The other hand was still encumbered and his feet 
 were tied together, but it happened that the well hand was 
 the freed one, and so after a hard struggle he succeeded in 
 getting out of the tangle of knots and upon his feet. He 
 worked cautiously because he wasn't sure how much of 
 what he remembered was dream and how much was 
 reality. The two men might be in the house yet, very 
 likely were, asleep somewhere. He must steal down and 
 get away before they awoke. 
 
 There was something warm and sticky on the floor 
 and it had got on his clothes, but he took no notice of it at 
 first. He wondered what that sick pain in his shoulder 
 was, but he had not time to stop and see now or even to 
 think about it He must call the Chief before the men 
 were awake. So he managed to get upon his feet |and 
 steady himself against the wall, for he felt dizzy and faint 
 when he tried to walk. But he managed to get into the hall, 
 and peer into each room, and more and more as he went he- 
 felt he was alone in the house. Then he had failed and the 
 men were gone ! Aw Gee ! Pat too ! What a fool he had 
 been, thinking he could manage the affair ! He ought to 
 have taken the Chief into his confidence and let him come 
 along. Aw Gee ! 
 
 Down in the kitchen he found a pail of water and a cup. 
 He drank thirstily. His head felt hot and the veins in his 
 neck throbbed. There seemed to be a lump on his forehead. 
 
 258 
 
THE CITY^OF FIRE 259 
 
 He bathed his face and head. How good it felt ! Then he 
 found a whiskey bottle on the table half full. This after 
 carefully smelling he poured over his bruised wrists, sop- 
 ping it on his head and forehead, and finally pouring some 
 down his shoulder that pained so, and all that he did was 
 done blindly, like one in a dream; just an involuntary 
 searching for means to go on and fulfill his purpose. 
 
 After another drink of water he seemed to be able to 
 think more clearly. That tapping in the cellar yesterday ! 
 What had that been? He must look and see. Yes, that 
 was really what he had come about. Perhaps the men were 
 down there yet hidden away. He opened the cellar door 
 and listened. Doggone it where was that gun of his ? But 
 the flash light ! Yes, the flash light! 
 
 He shot the light ahead of him as He went down, 
 moving as in a dream, but keeping true to type, cautious, 
 careful, stealthy. At last he was down. No one there ! He 
 turned the little flash into every nook and cranny, not ex- 
 cepting the ledges above the cellar wall whereon the floor 
 beams rested. Once he came on a tin box long and flat 
 and new looking. It seemed strange to meet it here. There 
 was no dust upon it. He poked it down with his torch and 
 it sprawled open at his feet. Papers, long folded papers 
 printed with writing in between, like bonds or deeds or 
 something. He stooped and waved the flash above them 
 and caught the name Shafton in one. It was an insurance 
 paper, house and furniture. He felt too stupid to quite 
 understand, but it grew into his consciousness that these 
 were the things he was looking for. He gathered them 
 up, stuffing them carefully inside his blouse. They would 
 be safe there. Then he turned to go upstairs, but stumbled 
 over a pile of coal out in the floor and fell. It gave him a 
 sick sensation to fall. It almost seemed that he couldn't 
 get up again, but now he had found the papers he must. 
 He crawled to his knees, and felt around, then turned his 
 
260 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 light on. This was strange ! A heap of coal out in the mid- 
 dle of the floor, almost a foot from the rest ! A rusty shovel 
 lay beside it, a chisel and a big stone. Ah ! The tapping ! 
 He got up forgetting his pain and began to kick away the 
 coal, turning the flash light down. Yes, there was a crack 
 in the cement, a loose piece. He could almost lift it with 
 his foot. He pried at it with the toe of his shoe, and then 
 lifted it with much effort out of the way. It was quite a 
 big piece, more than a foot in diameter ! The ground was 
 soft underneath as if it had been recently worked over. He 
 stooped and plunged the fingers of his good hand in and 
 felt around, laying the light on the floor so it would shed 
 a glare over the spot where he worked. He could feel 
 down several inches. There seemed to be something soft 
 like cloth or leather. He pulled at it and finally brought it 
 up. A leather bag girt about with a thong of leather. He. 
 picked the knot and turned the flash in. It sent forth a 
 million green lights. There seemed also to be a rope of 
 white glistening things that reminded him of Saxy's tears. 
 That brought a pang. Saxy would be crying ! He must re- 
 member that and do something about it. He must have been 
 away a long titne and perhaps those men would be coming 
 back. But it wouldn't do to leave these things here. They 
 >vere the Shafton jewels. What anybody wanted of a lot 
 of shiny little stones like; that and a rope of tears ! But 
 then if they did they did, and they were theirs and they 
 oughtta have 'em. This was the thing he had come to do. 
 Get those jewels and papers back ! Make up as far as he 
 could for what he had done! And he must do it now 
 quick before he got sick. He felt he was getting sick and 
 he mustn't think about it or he would turn into Aunt 
 Saxon. That was the queerest thing, back in his mind he 
 felt this was Aunt Saxon down here in the haunted cellar 
 playing with green stones and ropes of tears, and he must 
 hurry quick before she found him and told him he couldn't 
 finish what he had to do. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 261 
 
 He did the work thoroughly, feeling down in the hole 
 again, but found nothing more. Then he stuffed the bag 
 inside his blouse and buttoned up his sweater with his 
 well hand and somehow got up the stairs. That arm pained 
 him a lot, and he found his sweater was wet. So he took 
 his handkerchief and tied it tight around the place that 
 hurt the most, holding one end in his teethe to make the 
 knot firm. 
 
 The sun blinded him as he stumbled down the back 
 steps and went to get his wheel, but somehow he managed 
 it, plunging through the brakes and tangles, and back to 
 the road. 
 
 It ran in his brain where the Shaftons lived out in the 
 country on the Jersey shore. He had a mental picture in 
 the back of his mind how to get there. He knew that when 
 he struck the Highroad there was nothing to do but keep 
 straight on till he crossed the State Line and then he would 
 find it somehow, although it was miles away. If he had 
 been himself he would have known it was an impossible 
 journey in his present condition, but he wasn't thinking of 
 impossibilities. He had to do it, didn't he? He, Billy, 
 had set out to make reparation for the confusion he had 
 wrought in his small world, and he meant to do so, though 
 all hell should rise against him. Hell ! That was it. He 
 could see the flames in hot little spots where the morning 
 sun struck. He could hear the bells striking the hour in 
 the world he used to know that was not for him any more. 
 He zigzagged along the road in a crazy way, and strange 
 to say he met nobody he knew, for it was early. Ten 
 minutes after he passed the Crossroads Elder Harricutt 
 went across the Highway toward Economy to his day's 
 work, and he would have loved to have seen Billy, and 
 his rusty old wheel, staggering along in that crazy way 
 and smelling of whiskey like a whole moonshiner, fairly 
 reeking with whiskey as he joggled down the road, and a 
 queer little tinkle now and then just inside his blouse as if 
 
^2 THE CITY OF FIBE 
 
 he carried loaded dice. Oh, he would have loved to have 
 caught Billy shooting crap ! 
 
 But he was too late, and Billy swam on, the sun grow- 
 ing hotter on his aching head, the light more blinding to 
 his blood shot eyes, the lump bigger and bluer on his 
 grimy forehead. 
 
 About ten o'clock a car came by, slowed down, the 
 driver watching Billy, though Billy took no note of him. 
 Billy was looking on the ground dreaming he was search- 
 ing for the state line. He had a crazy notion it oughtta be 
 there somewhere. 
 
 The man in the car stopped and called to him : 
 
 " How about putting your wheel in the back seat and 
 letting me give you a Hft ? You look pretty tired." 
 
 Billy lifted bleared eyes and stopped pedalling, almost 
 falling off his wheel, but recovering himself with a wrench 
 of pain and sliding off. 
 
 " Awwright ! " said Billy, " Thanks ! " 
 
 " You look all in, son," said the man kindly. 
 
 " Yep," said Billy laconically, " 'yam ! Been up all 
 night. Care f'l sleep? " 
 
 " Help yourself," said the man, giving a Hft with the 
 jvheel, and putting it in behind. 
 
 Billy curled down in the back seat without fur- 
 ther ceremony. 
 
 " Where are you going son? " 
 
 Billy named the country seat of the Shaftons, having 
 no idea how far away it was. The man gave a whistle. 
 
 " What! On that wheel? Well, go to sleep son. I'm 
 going there myself, so don't worry. I'll wake you up 
 when you get there." 
 
 So Billy slept through the first long journey he had 
 taken since he came to live with Aunt Saxon, slept pro- 
 foundly with an oblivion that almost amounted to coma. 
 Sometimes the man, looking back, was tempted to stop 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 263 
 
 and see if the boy was yet alive, but a light touch on the 
 hot forehead showed him that life was not extinct, and 
 they whirled on. 
 
 Three hours later Billy was awakened by a sharp shake 
 of his sore shoulder and a stinging pain that shot through 
 him like fire. Fire ! Fire ! He was on fire ! That was how 
 he felt as he opened his eyes and glared at the stranger : 
 
 " Aw, lookout there, whatterya doin' ? " he blazed, 
 " Whadda ya think I am? A football? Don't touch me. 
 ril get out. This the place ? Thanks fer tha ride, I was all 
 in. Say, d'ya know a guy by the name of Shafton? " 
 
 "Shafton?" asked the man astonished, "are you 
 going to Shaf ton's ? " 
 
 "Sure," said Billy, "anything wrong about that? 
 Where does he hang out? " The look of Billy, and more 
 than all the smell of him made it quite apparent to the 
 casual observer that he had been drinking, and the man 
 eyed him compassionately. " Poor little fool ! He's 
 beginning young. What on earth does he want 
 at Shaftons?" 
 
 " I 'spose you've come down after the reward," grin- 
 ned the man, " I could have saved you the trouble if you'd 
 told me. The kidnapped son has got home. They are not 
 in need of further information." 
 
 Billy gave him a superior leer with one eye closed : 
 
 " You may not know all there is to know about that," 
 he said impudently, "where did you say he lived? " 
 
 The man shrugged his shoulders indifferently. 
 
 " Suit yourself," he said, " I doubt if they'll see you. 
 They have had nothing but a stream of vagrants for two 
 days and they're about sick of it. They live on the next 
 estate and the gateway is right around that corner." 
 
 " I ain't no vagrant," glared Billy, and limped away 
 with old trusty under his left arm. 
 
 No one molested him as he walked in the arched and 
 
264 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 ivied gateway, for the gate keeper was off on a little 
 private errand of his own at a place where prohibition had 
 not yet penetrated. Billy felt too heavy and dizzy to mount 
 his wheel, but he leaned on the saddle as he walked and 
 tried to get things straight in his head. He oughtn't to 
 have gone to sleep, that's what he oughtn't. But this job 
 would soon be over and then he would hike it for home. 
 Gee ! Wouldn't home feel good ! And Aunt Saxon would 
 bathe his head with wych hazel and make cold things 
 for him to drink ! Aw, Gee ! 
 
 The pedigreed dogs of which the place boasted a num- 
 ber came suddenly down upon him in a great flare of noise, 
 but dogs were always his friends, why should he worry? 
 A pity he couldn't stop to make friends with them just now. 
 Some dogs ! Here pup ! Gee ! What a dog to own ! The 
 dogs whined and fawned upon him. Pedigree or no pedi- 
 gree, rags and whiskey and dirt notwithstanding, they 
 knew a man when they saw one, and Billy hadn't batted an 
 eyelid when they tried their worst tramp barks on him. 
 They wagged their silky tails and tumbled over each other 
 to get first place to him, and so escorted proudly he dropped 
 old trusty by a clump of imported rhododendrons and 
 limped up the marble steps to the wide vistas of circular 
 piazzas that stretched to seemingly infinite distances, and 
 wondered if he should ever find the front door. 
 
 An imposing butler appeared with a silver tray, and 
 stood aghast. 
 
 " Shaft on live here?" inquired Billy trying to look 
 business like. " Like to see him er the missus a minute," 
 he added as the frowning vision bowed. The butler 
 politely but firmly told him that the master and mistress 
 had other business and no desire to see him. The young 
 gentleman had come home, and the reward had been with- 
 drawn. If it was about the reward he had come he could 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 265 
 
 go down to the village and find the detective. The house 
 people didn't want to interview any more callers. 
 
 " Well, say, " said Billy disgusted, '* after I've come all 
 this way too! You go tell 'er I've brought her jewels! 
 You go tell 'er I've gottum here! " 
 
 The butler opened the door a little wider : he suggested 
 that seeing was believing. 
 
 " Not on yer tin type ! " snapped Billy, " I show 'em 
 to nobody an' I give 'em to nobody but the owner! 
 Where's the young fella ? He knows me. Tell 'im I brang 
 his ma's string o' beads an' things." 
 
 Billy was weary. His head was spinning round. His 
 temper was rising. 
 
 " Aw, — ^you make me tired 1 Get out of my way ! " 
 He lowered his head and made a football dive with his head 
 in the region of the dignified butler's stomach, and before 
 that dignitary had recovered his poise Billy with two collies 
 joyously escorting him, stood blinking in wonder over the 
 great beautiful living room, for all the world as pretty as 
 the church at home, only stranger, with things around that 
 he couldn't make out the use of. 
 
 "Where'ur they at? Where are the folks?" he 
 shouted back to the butler who was coming after him with 
 menace in his eye. 
 
 " What is the matter, Morris ? What is all this noise 
 about ? " came a lady's voice in pettish tones from up 
 above somewhere. " Didn't I tell you that I wouldn't see 
 another one of those dreadful people to-day? " 
 
 Billy located her smooth old childish face at once and 
 strode to the foot of the stairs peering up at the lady, white 
 with pain from his contact with the butler, but alert now 
 to the task before him: 
 
 " Say, Miz Shaf't'n, I got yer jools, would ya mind 
 takin' 'em right now? 'Cause I'm all in an' I wantta 
 get home." 
 
^66 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 His head was going around now like a merry-go- 
 round, but he steadied himself by the bannister : 
 
 " Why, what do you mean? " asked the lady descend- 
 ing a step or two, a vision of marcelled white hair, violet 
 and lace negligee, and well preserved features, " YouVe 
 got them there? Let me see them." 
 
 " He's been drinking, Sarah, can't you smell it? " said 
 a man's voice higher up, " Come away and let Morris deal 
 with him. Really Sarah, we'll have to go away if this 
 keeps up." 
 
 " Say, you guy up there, just shut yer trap a minute 
 won't 3^ ! Here, Miz Shaf't'n, are these here yours? " 
 
 Billy struggled with the neck of his blouse and brought 
 forth the leather bag, gripped the knot fiercely in his teeth, 
 ran his fingers in the bag as he held it in his mouth, his 
 lamed arm hanging at his side, and drew forth the mag- 
 nificent pearls. 
 
 "William! My pearls!" shrieked the lady. 
 
 The gentleman came down incredulous, and looked 
 over her shoulder. 
 
 " I believe they are, Sarah," he said. 
 
 Billy leered feverishly up at him, and produced a sheaf 
 of papers, seemingly burrowing somewhere in his internal 
 regions to bring them forth. 
 
 " And here, d'these b'long? " 
 
 The master of the house gripped them. 
 
 '* Sarah ! The bonds 1 And the South American 
 Shares ! " They were too busy to notice Billy who stood 
 swaying by the newel post, his duty done now, the dogs 
 grouped about him. 
 
 " Say, c'n I get me a drink? " he asked of the butler, 
 who hovered near uncertain what to be doing now that the 
 tide was turned. 
 
 The lady looked up. 
 
 "Morris!" 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 267 
 
 He scarcely heard the lady's words but almost immedi- 
 ately a tall slim glass of frosty drink, that smelled of wild 
 grapes, tasted of oranges, and cooled him down to the soul 
 again, was put into his hand and he gulped it greedily. 
 
 " Where did you say you found these, young man? '' 
 The gentleman eyed him sternly, and Billy's old spirit 
 flamed up : ^ 
 
 " I didn't say," said Billy. 
 
 " But you know we've got to have all the evidence 
 before we can give the reward — ! " 
 
 " Aw, cut it out ! I don't want no reward. Wouldn't 
 take it if you give it to me ! I just wantta get home. Say, 
 you gotta telephone? " 
 
 " Why certainly." This was the most astonish- 
 ing burglar! 
 
 " Well, where is't ? Lemme call long distance on it ? I 
 ain't got the tin now, but I'll pay ya when I git back home 1" 
 
 " Why, the idea ! Take him to the telephone Morris. 
 Right there 1 This one— ! " 
 
 But Billy had sighted one on a mahogany desk near at 
 hand and he toppled to the edge of the chair that stood 
 before it. He took down the receiver in a shaky hand, 
 calling Long Distance. 
 
 "This Long Distance? Well, gimme Economy 13." 
 
 The Shaftons for the instant were busy looking over 
 the papers, identifying each jewel, wondering if any were 
 missing. They did not notice Billy till a gruff young voice 
 rang out with a pathetic tremble in it : " That you Chief ? 
 This is Billy. Say, c'n I bother you to phone to Miss 
 Severn an' ast her to tell m'yant I'm aw'wright ? Yes, tell 
 her I'll be home soon now, an' I'll explain. And Chief, 
 I'm mighty sorry those two guys got away, but I couldn't 
 help it. We'll get 'em yet. Hope you didn't wait long. 
 Tell you more when I see ya, S'long — ! " 
 
 The boyish voice trailed off into silence as the receiver 
 
268 THE^CITY^OF FIRE 
 
 fell with a crash to the poHshed desk, and Billy slipped off 
 the chair and lay in a huddled heap on the costly rug. 
 
 " Oh, mercy ! " cried the lady, " Is he drunk or what? " 
 
 " Come away Sarah, let Morris deal — '' 
 
 " But he's sick, I believe, William. Look how white 
 he is. I believe he is dead ! William, he may have come a 
 long way in the heat! He may have had a sunstroke! 
 Morris, send for a doctor quick! And — call the ambu- 
 lance too! You better telephone the hospital. We can't 
 have him here! William, look here, what's this on his 
 sleeve? Blood? Oh, William! And we didn't give him 
 any reward — ! " 
 
 And so, while the days hastened on Billy lay between 
 clean white sheets on a bed of pain in a private ward of a 
 wonderful Memorial Hospital put up by the Shaftons in 
 honor of a child that died. Tossing and moaning, and 
 dreaming of unquenchable fire, always trying to climb out 
 of the hot crater that held him, and never getting quite to 
 the top, always knowing there was something he must do, 
 yet never quite finding out what it was. And back in Sab- 
 bath Valley Aunt Saxon prayed and cried and waited and 
 took heart of cheer from the message the Chief had sent to 
 Lynn. And quietly the day approached for the trial of 
 Mark Carter, but his mother did not yet know. 
 
XXIV 
 
 Mrs. Gibson, the wife of the comparatively new elder 
 of the Sabbath Valley church was a semi-invalid. That is 
 she wasn't able to do her own work and kept "help." The 
 help was a lady of ample proportions whose husband had 
 died and whose fortunes were depleted. She consented 
 to assist Mrs. Gibson provided she were considered one 
 of the family, and she presented a continual front of of- 
 fense so that the favored family must walk most circum- 
 spectly if they would not have her retire to her room with 
 hurt feelings and leave them to shift for themselves. 
 
 On the morning of the trial she settled herself at her 
 side of the breakfast table, after a number of excursions 
 to the kitchen for things she had forgotten, the cream, the 
 coffee, and the brown bread, of which Mr. Gibson was 
 very fond. She was prepared to enjoy her own breakfast. 
 Mr. Gibson generally managed to bolt his while these ex- 
 cursions of memory were being carried on and escape the 
 morning news, but Mrs. Gibson, well knowing which side 
 her bread was buttered, and not knowing where she could 
 get another housekeeper, usually managed to sit it out. 
 
 " Well, this is a great day for Sabbath Valley," said 
 Mrs. Frost mournfully, spreading an ample slice of bread 
 eep with butter, and balancing it on the uplifted fingers 
 of one hand while she stirred the remainder of the cream 
 into her coffee with one of the best silver spoons. She 
 was wide and bulgy and her chair always seemed inade- 
 quate when she settled thus for nourishment. 
 
 A great day," she repeated sadly, taking an audible 
 sip of her coffee. 
 
 "A great day?" repeated little Mrs. Gibson with a 
 uzzled air, quickly recalling her abstracted thoughts. 
 
 269 
 
270 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 " Yes. Nobody ever thought anybody in Sabbath Val- 
 ley would ever be tried for murder ! " 
 
 "Oh!" said Mrs. Gibson sharply, drawing back her 
 chair as if she were in a hurry and rolUng up her nap- 
 kin quickly. 
 
 " Yes, poor Mark Carter ! I remember his sweet little 
 face and his long yellow curls and his baby smile as if it 
 were yesterday ! '* narrowing her eyes and harrowing her 
 voice, " I wonder if his poor mother knows yet." 
 
 " I should hope not ! " said Mrs. Gibson rising precipi- 
 tately and wandering over to the window where hung a 
 gilded canary cage. " Mrs. Frost, did you remember tc 
 give the canary some seed and fresh water ? " 
 
 " Yes, I b'lieve so," responded the fat lady, " But you 
 can't keep her from knowing it always. Whatt'U you dc 
 when he's hungf Don't you think it would be easier foi 
 her to get used to it little by little ? " 
 
 " Mrs. Frost, if you were a dog would you rather have 
 your tail cut off all at once, or little by little? " said Mrs. 
 Gibson mischievously. 
 
 "I shouldn't like to have it cut off at all I'm quite 
 sure," said Mrs. Frost frostily. 
 
 " Well, perhaps Mrs. Carter might feel that way too," 
 said the lady bending over a rose geranium and pinching 
 a leaf to smell. 
 
 "I don't understand you," said Mrs. Frost from hex 
 coffee cup, ** Oh, you mean that perhaps Mark may not 
 be convicted ? Why, my dear lady, there isn't a chance at 
 all, not a chance in the world for Mark, and while I'm real 
 sorry I can't say I'd approve. Think of how he's carriec 
 on, going with that little huzzy of a Cherry. Mrs. Harri- 
 cutt says she saw him have her out riding in his automobile 
 one day — !" 
 
 "Oh, — Mrs. Harricutt!" said Mrs. Gibson impa- 
 tiently, " Mrs. Frost, let's find something pleasanter to tall^ 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 271 
 
 about. It^s a wonderful morning. The air's like wine. I 
 ,wonder If I couldn't take a little walk. I mean to ask 
 the doctor." 
 
 " My dear woman," said Frost patronizingly, " You 
 can't get away from the unpleasant things in this world by 
 just not talking about them ! " 
 
 " It seems not," said the Gibson lady patiently, and 
 wandered out on the porch. 
 
 ■ Down the street Marilyn lingered by her mother's chair : 
 "Are you — going to Economy to-day, mother?" 
 " Yes, dear, your father and I are both going. Did 
 you — ^think you ought — ^wanted to — go dear?" 
 
 " Oh, I should hate it! " cried Lynn flinging out her 
 hands with a terrible little gesture of despair, "But I 
 wanted to go just to stand by Mark. I shall be there 
 anyway, wherever I am. I shall see everything and feel 
 everything in my heart I know. But in the night it came to 
 me that some one ought to stay with Mrs. Carter ! " 
 
 " Yes, dear ! I had hoped you would think of that. I 
 didn't want to mention it because I wanted you to follow 
 your own heart's leading, but I think she needs you. I£ 
 you could keep her from finding out until it was over — " 
 
 "But suppose — !" 
 
 " Yes, dear, it is possible. I've thought of that, and if 
 it comes there will be a way I'm sure, but until it does — 
 then suppose — " 
 
 " Yes, mother, I'll go and make her have one happy day 
 first anyway." If any of those old vultures come around 
 I'll play the piano or scream all the while they are there and 
 keep them from telling her a thing! " 
 
 "I think, dear, the vultures will all be in Economy 
 to-day." 
 
 " All except Mrs. Frost, mother dear. She can't get 
 away. But she can always run across the street to borrow; 
 a cup of soda." 
 
272 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 So Lynn knelt for a moment in her quiet room, then 
 came down, kissed her mother and father with a face of 
 brave serenity, and went down the maple shaded street 
 with her silk work bag in her hand. And none too soon. 
 As she tapped at the door of the Carter house she saw Mrs. 
 Frost ambling purposefully out of the Gibson gate with a 
 tea cup in her hand. 
 
 *' Oh, hurry upstairs and stay there a minute till I get 
 rid of Mrs. Frost,'' Lynn whispered smiling as her hostess 
 let her in. " I've come to spend the day with you, and she'll 
 stay till she's told you all the news and there won't be any 
 left for me." 
 
 Mrs. Carter, greatly delighted with Lynn's company, 
 hurried obediently up the stairs and Lynn met the inter- 
 loper, supplied her with the cup of salt she had come for 
 this time, said Mrs. Carter was upstairs making the beds 
 and she wouldn't bother her to come down, — beds, mind 
 you, as if Mark was at home of course — and Mrs. Frost 
 went back across the street puzzled and baffled and resolved 
 to come back later for an ^gg after that forward young 
 daughter of the minister was gone. 
 
 Lynn locked the front door and ran up stairs. She 
 tolled her hostess up to the attic to show her some ancient 
 gowns and poke bonnets that she hadn't seen since she 
 was a little girl in which she and Mark used to dress up 
 and play history stories. 
 
 Half the morning she kept her up there looking at 
 garments long folded away, whose wearers had slept in 
 the church yard many years ; trinkets of other days, quaint 
 old pictures, photographs and daguerreotypes, and a beauti- 
 ful curl of Mark's — : 
 
 " Marilyn, I'm going to give that to you," the mother 
 said as she saw the shining thing lying in the girl's hand, 
 '* There's no one living to care for it after I'm gone, and 
 you will keep it I know till you're sure there's no one would 
 want it I — mean — ! " 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 273 
 
 " I understand what you mean," said Marilyn, " I will 
 keep it and love it — for you — and for him. And if there 
 is ever anybody else that — deserves it — ^why I'll give it 
 to them — !" Then they both laughed to hide the tears be- 
 hind the unspoken thoughts, and the mother added a little 
 stubbed shoe and a sheer muslin cap, all delicate embroid- 
 ery and hemstitching: 
 
 " They go together," she said simply, and Lynn wrap- 
 ped them all carefully in a bit of tissue paper and laid 
 them in her silk bag. As she turned away she held it close 
 to her heart while the mother closed the shutters. She 
 shuddered to think of the place where Mark was sitting 
 now, being tried for his life. Her heart flew over the 
 road, entered the court and stood close by his side, with 
 her hand on his shoulder, and then slipped it in his. She 
 wondered if he knew that she was praying, praying, pray- 
 ing for him and standing by him, taking the burden of 
 what would have been his mother's grief if she had known, 
 as well as the heavy burden of her own sorrow. 
 
 The air of the court room was heavy for the place was 
 crowded. Almost everybody from Sabbath Valley that 
 could come was there, for a great many people loved Mark 
 Carter, and this seemed a time when somehow they must 
 stand by him. People came that liked him and some that 
 did not like him, but more that liked him and kept hoping 
 against hope that he would not be indicted. 
 
 The hum of voices suddenly ceased as the prisoner was 
 led in and a breath of awe passed over the place. For until 
 that minute no one was quite sure that Mark Carter would 
 .appear. It had been rumored again and again that he had run 
 away. Yet here he was, walking tall and straight, his fine 
 head held high as had been his wont. " For all the world 
 like he walked when he was usher at Mary Anne's wedding, 
 whispered Mrs. Hulse, from Unity." 
 
 The minister and his wife kept their eyes down after 
 the first glimpse of the white face. It seemed a desecra- 
 
 18 
 
274 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 tion to look at a face that had suffered as that one had. Yet 
 the expression upon it now was more as if it had been set 
 for a certain purpose for this day, and did not mean to 
 change whatever came. A hopeless, sad, persist look, yet 
 strong withal and with a hint of something fine and high 
 behind it. 
 
 He did not look around as he sat down, merely nodded 
 to a few close to him whom he recognized, A number 
 pressed close as he passed, and touched him, as if they 
 would impress upon him their loyalty, and it was notice- 
 able that these were mostly of a humble class, working 
 men, boys, and a few old women, people to whom he had 
 been kind. 
 
 Mrs. Severn wrote a little note and sent it up to him, 
 with the message, " Lynn is with your mother." Just that. 
 No name signed. But his eyes sought hers at once and 
 seemed to light, and soon, without any apparent move- 
 ment on his part a card came back to her bearing the 
 words : " I thank you.'' But he did not look that way 
 again all day it seemed. His bearing was quiet, sad, aloof, 
 one might almost have said disinterested. 
 
 Mark's lawyer was one whom he had picked out of 
 the gutter and literally forced to stop drinking and get 
 back on his job. He was a man of fine mind and deep grati- 
 tude, and was having a frantic time with his client, for 
 Mark simply wouldn't talk: 
 
 "I wasn't there, I was on Stark mountain, I am not 
 guilty," he persisted, " and that is all I have to say." 
 
 " But my dear friend, don't you realize that mere state- 
 ments unadorned and uncorroborated won't get you any- 
 where in court? " 
 
 " All right, don't try to defend me then. Let the thing 
 go as it will. That is all I have to say." And from this 
 decision no one had been able to shake him. His 
 lawyer was nearly crazy. He had raked the county for 
 witnesses. He had dug into the annals of that night in 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 275 
 
 every possible direction. He had unearthed things that it 
 seemed no Hving being would have thought of, and yet he 
 had not found the one thing of which he was in search, 
 positive evidence that Mark Carter had been elsewhere 
 and otherwise employed at the time of the shooting. 
 
 " Don't bother so much about it Tony," said Mark 
 once when they were talking it over, or the lawyer was 
 talking it over and Mark was listening. ** It doesn't mat- 
 ter. Nothing matters any more ! " and his voice was weary 
 as if all hope had vanished from him. 
 
 Anthony Drew looked at him in despair : 
 
 " Sometimes I almost think you want to die," he said. 
 " Do you think I shall let you go when you pulled me back 
 from worse than death? No, Mark, old man, we're going 
 to pull you through somehow, though I don't know how. 
 If I were a praying man I'd say that this was the time to 
 pray. Mark, what's become of that kid you used to think 
 so much of, that was always tagging after you? Billy, — 
 was that his name ? " 
 
 A wan smile flitted across Mark's face, and a stiff little 
 drawing of the old twinkle about eyes and lips : 
 
 " I think he'll turn up some time." 
 
 The lawyer eyed him keenly : 
 
 " Mark, I believe you've got something up your sleeve. 
 I believe that kid knows something and you won't let him 
 tell. Where is he?" 
 
 " I don't know, Tony" and Mark looked at him 
 straight with clear eyes, and the lawyer knew he was telling 
 the truth. 
 
 Just at the last day Anthony Drew found out about the 
 session meeting. But from Mark he got no further state- 
 ment than the first one. Mark would not talk. An ordi- 
 nary lawyer, one that had not been saved himself, would 
 have given up the defense as hopeless. Anthony simply 
 wouldn't let Mark go undefended. If there were no evi- 
 dence he would make some somehow, and so he worked 
 
276 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 hoping against hope up to the very last minute. He stood 
 now, ta^ anxious, a fine face, though showing the marks 
 of wreck behind him, dark hair silvered at the edges, fine 
 deep lines about his eyes and brows, looking over the 
 assembled throng with nervous hurrying eyes. At last he 
 seemed to find what he wanted and came quickly down to 
 where the minister sat in an obscure corner, whispering 
 a few words with him. They went out together for a few 
 minutes and when they came back the minister was grave 
 and thoughtful. He himself had scoured the country 
 round about quietly for Billy, and he was deeply puzzled. 
 He had promised to tell what he knew. 
 
 The business of the day went forward in the usual way 
 with all the red tape, the cool formalities, as if some trifling 
 matter were at stake, and those who loved Mark sat with 
 aching hearts and waited. The Severns in their corner sat 
 for the most part with bended heads and praying hearts. 
 The witnesses for the prosecution were most of them com- 
 panions of the dead man, those who had drank and 
 caroused with him, frequenters of the Blue Duck, and they 
 were herded together, an evil looking crowd, but with 
 erect heads and defiant attitude, the air of having* donned 
 unaccustomed garments of righteousness for the occasion, 
 and making a great deal of it because for once every one 
 must see that they were in the right. They were fairly 
 loud mouthed in their boasting about it. 
 
 There was the little old wizened up fellow that had been 
 sitting with the drinks outside the booth the night Billy 
 telephoned. There were the serving men who had waited 
 on Mark and Cherry. There was the proprietor of the 
 Blue Duck himself, who testified that Mark had often been 
 there with Cherry, though always early in the evening. 
 Once he had caught him outside the window looking in at I 
 the dancers as late as two o'clock at night, the same win- 
 dow from which the shot was fired that brought Dolph to 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 277 
 
 his death. They testified that Mark had been seen with 
 Qierry much of late driving in his car, and that she had 
 often been in deep converse as if having a hot argument 
 about something. 
 
 The feeling was tense in the court room. Tears were 
 in many eyes, hopeless tears in the eyes of those who had 
 loved the boy for years. 
 
 But the grilling order marched on, and witness after 
 witness came, adding another and another little touch to the 
 gradually rising structure that would shut Mark Carter 
 away from the world that loved him and that he 
 loved forever. 
 
 Cherry was called, a flaunting bit of a child with bobbed 
 golden hair and the air of a bold young seraph, her white 
 face bravely painted, her cherry lips cherrier even than the 
 cherry for which she had been named. She wore a silk coat 
 reaching to the bottom of her frock, which was shorter 
 than the shortest, and daring little high-heeled many 
 strapped shoes with a myriad of bright buckles. Her hat 
 was an insolent affair of cherry red. She made a blinding 
 bit of color in the dreary court room. She appeared half 
 frightened, half defiant. Her sharp little face seemed to 
 have lost its round curves and childlike sweetness. She 
 testified that she had been with Mark on the night of the 
 shooting, but that he had taken her home early and she had 
 seen no more of him that night. She admitted that she had 
 returned later to the Blue Duck Tavern with Dolph and 
 had danced late and eaten supper with him afterwards, and 
 that it was while they were eating that the shot was fired 
 and Dolph fell over on the table. No, she didn't see any 
 face at the window. She had covered her face with her 
 hands and screamed. She guessed she fainted. Questioned 
 further she admitted that she had had an argument with 
 Mark earlier in the evening, but she " didn't remember 
 what it was about." They often argued. Yes, Dolph was 
 jealous of Mark and tried to stop her going with him. Yes, 
 
278 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Mark had tried to stop her going with Dolph too, but he 
 never acted jealous — On and on through the sorry Httle 
 details of Cherry's career. The court room vultures re- 
 ceiving it avidly, the more refined part of the company 
 with distaste and disgust. Mark sat with stern white face 
 looking straight at Cherry all the time she was on the stand 
 as if he dared her to say other than the truth. When she 
 happened to look that way she gave a giggling little shud- 
 der and half turned her shoulder away, avoiding his eyes. 
 But when she was done she had said nothing against Mark, 
 and nothing to clear him either. 
 
 The sharp unscrupulous lawyer who acted for the 
 prosecution had secured some fellows " of the baser sort '' 
 who testified that they had seen Mark Carter buying a gun, 
 that they had seen him creep softly to the window, peer 
 into the room, and take aim. They had been on their way 
 home, had seen Mark steal along in a very suspicious man- 
 ner and had followed him to find out what it meant. 
 There were three of them, fellows whom Mark had re- 
 fused to play against on a County team because they were 
 what is called " dirty " players. There had been hot words 
 between Mark and them once when one of them had kicked 
 a man in the face with spiked shoes who was just about 
 to make a goal. Mark had succeeded in winning the umpire 
 to his point of view and the others had lost their game and 
 incidentally some money, and they had a grudge against 
 him. Moreover there was money in this testimony for 
 The Blue Duck Tavern could not afford to have its habi- 
 tues in the public eye, and preferred to place the blame on 
 a man who belonged more to the conservative crowd. The 
 Blue Duck had never quite approved of Mark, because 
 though he came and went he never drank, and he some- 
 times prevented others from doing so. This was unprofit- 
 able to them. So matters stood when the noon-hour came 
 and court adjourned for lunch. 
 
XXV 
 
 And while the long morning dragged itself away in 
 Economy listening to a tale of shame, over on the bright 
 Jersey coast the waves washed lazily on a silver strand 
 reflecting the blueness of the September sky, and soft 
 breezes hovered around the classic Uttle hospital building 
 that stood in a grove of imported palms, and lifted its 
 white columns picturesquely like some old Greek temple. 
 
 There was nothing in the life he was living now to 
 remind Billy of either hell or Sabbath Valley, yet for long 
 days and weeks he had struggled through flames in a deep 
 dark pit lighted only by lurid glare and his soul had well 
 nigh gone out under the torture. Once the doctors and 
 nurses had stood around and waited for his last breath. 
 This was a marked case. The Shaftons were deeply inter- 
 ested in it. The boy had mysteriously brought back all 
 their valuable papers and jewels that had been stolen from 
 them, and they were anxious to put him on his feet again. 
 It went sadly against the comfortable self-complacent 
 grain of a Shafton to feel himself under such mortal 
 obligation to any one. 
 
 But Billy was tougher than anyone knew, and one 
 night after he had made the usual climb through the hot 
 coals on his bare knees to the top of the pit, and come to 
 the place where he always fell back, he held on a little > 
 tighter and set his teeth a little harder, and suddenly, with 
 a long hard pull that took every atom of strength in his 
 wasted young body, he went over the top. Over the top 
 and out into the clean open country where he could feel 
 the sea breeze on his hot forehead and know that it was 
 good. He was out of hell and he was cooling off. The 
 
 279 
 
£80 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 first step in the awful fight that began that nigfit in the 
 old haunted house on the mountain had been won. 
 
 For three days he lay thus, cooling off and resting. He 
 was fed and cared for but he took no cognizance of it 
 except to smile weakly. Swallowing things was like 
 breathing. You had to do it and you didn't think about it. 
 The fourth day he began to know the nurses apart, and 
 to realize he was feeling better. As yet the past lay like a 
 blurr of pain on his mind, and he hadn't a care about any- 
 thing save just to lie and know that it was good to smell 
 the salt, and see the shimmer of blue from the window. 
 At times when he slept the sound of bells in old hymns 
 came to him like a dream and he smiled. But on the fifth 
 morning he lifted his light head uncertainly and looked 
 out of the window. Gee! That was pretty! And he 
 dropped back and slept again. When he awoke there was 
 a real meal for him. No more slops. Soup, and potato 
 and a bit of bread and butter. Gee ! It tasted good ! He 
 slept again and it was morning, or was it the same morn- 
 ing? He didn't know. He tried to figure back and decided 
 he had been in that hospital about three days, but when the 
 next morning dawned and he felt the life creeping back 
 into his veins he began to be uncertain. He asked the 
 nurse how soon he could get up and get dressed. She 
 smiled in a superior way and said the doctor hadn't said. 
 It would likely be sometime yet, he had been pretty sick. 
 He told her sharply he couldn't spare much more time, 
 and asked her where his clothes were. 
 
 She laughed and said : 
 
 ** Oh, put away. You'll have some new clothes when 
 •you get well. I heard Mrs. Shafton talking about it this 
 morning when she was in the office. She's coming to see 
 you pretty soon, and they mean to do a lot for you. You 
 brought back her jewels didn't you? Well, I guess you'll 
 get your reward all right," 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 281 
 
 Billy looked at her blankly. Reward! Gosh! Was 
 that reward going to meet him again ? 
 
 " Say/' said he frowning, " I want my own clothes. I 
 don't want any new ones. I want my own! Say, I got 
 some stuff in my pockets I don't wantta have 
 monkeyed with! " 
 
 " All right," she said cheerily, " They're put away 
 safe. You can have them when you're well." But when he 
 asked her suddenly what day it was she said vaguely 
 *' Tuesday," and went away. He was so tired then he 
 went to sleep again and slept till they brought his din- 
 ner, a big one, chicken and fixings and jelly, and a dish of 
 ice cream! Oh, Gee! And then he went to sleep 
 again. But in the morning — how many days was it 
 then ? He woke to sudden consciousness of what he had to 
 do and to sudden suspicion of the time. Billy was coming 
 back to his own. His wilyness had returned. He smiled 
 at the nurse ravi shingly and asked for a newspaper, but 
 when she brought it he pretended to be asleep, so she laid 
 it down and went away softly. But he nabbed that paper 
 with a weak hand zs soon as her back was turned and read 
 the date! His heart fell down with a dull thud. The 
 third ! This was the day of the trial ! It couldn't be ! He 
 read again. Was it really the day of the trial ? The paper 
 that had the court program had been in his trousers 
 pocket. He must have it at once. Perhaps he had made 
 a mistake. Oh, gee ! What it was to be helpless ! Why, 
 he was weaker than Aunt Saxon ! 
 
 He called the nurse crossly. She bustled in and told 
 him the doctor had just said he might sit up to-morrow if 
 he kept on without a temperature for twenty- four hours 
 longer. But he paid no heed to her. He demanded his clothes 
 with a young roar of a voice that made her open her eyes. 
 Billy had heretofore been the meekest of meek patients. 
 She was getting the voice and manner now that he gener* 
 
282 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 ally retained for family use. He told her there was some- 
 thing in the pocket he must see right away, and he made 
 such a fuss about it that she was afraid he would bring up 
 his temperature again and finally agreed to get the clothes 
 if he would lie real still and rest afterward. Billy dropped 
 his head back on the pillow and solemnly said: 
 "Aw'wright ! " He had visions of going to court in blue 
 and white striped pajamas. It could be done, but he didn't 
 reHsh it. Still, if he had to — ! 
 
 The nurse brought his jacket and trousers. The 
 sweater was awfuUy dirty she said, but she was finally 
 prevailed upon to bring that too, and Billy obediently lay 
 down with closed eyes and his arm stretched out comfort- 
 ingly over the bundles. The nurse hovered round till he 
 seemed to be asleep and then slipped out for a moment, and 
 the instant her white skirt had vanished from the doorway 
 Billy was alert. He fumbled the bundles open with 
 nervous fingers and searched eagerly for the bit of paper. 
 Yes, there it was and the date the third of September. 
 Aw Gee! 
 
 He flung back the neatly tucked sheets, poked a slim 
 white foot that didn't look like his at all into a trouser leg, j 
 paused for breath and dove the other in, struggled into his i 
 jacket and lay down again quicl:!y under the sheet. Was i; 
 that the nurse ? I 
 
 He had to admit that he felt queer, but it would soon, 
 pass off, and anyhow if it killed him he had to go. Aw; 
 bah ! What was a little sickness anyhow ? If he stayed in 
 the hospital any longer they'd make a baby out of him ! 
 
 The nurse had not returned. He could hear the soft 
 plunk, plunk of her rubber heels on the marble steps. She 
 was going down stairs. Now was his time! Of course 
 he had no shoes and stockings, but what was a little thing 
 like that? He grasped the bundle of sweater tightly and 
 slid out of bed. His feet felt quite inadequate. In fact 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 283 
 
 he began to doubt their identity. They didn't seem to be 
 there at all when he stood on them, but he was not to Idc 
 foiled by feet. If they meant to stick by him they'd gotta 
 obey him. 
 
 Slowly, cautiously, with his head swimming lightly on 
 ahead of him and a queer gasp of emptiness in the region 
 of his chest that seemed to need a great deal of breath, he 
 managed a passage to the door, looked down the long 
 white corridor with its open doors and cheerful voices, saw 
 a pair of stairs to the right quite near by, and with his 
 steadying hands on the cool white wall slid along the short 
 space to the top step. It seemed an undertaking to get 
 down that first step, but when that was accomplished he 
 was out of sight and he sat down and slid slowly the rest 
 of the way, wondering why he felt so rotten. 
 
 At the foot of the long stairs there was a door, and 
 strange it was made so heavy ! He wondered a nurse could 
 swing it open, just a mere girl ! But he managed it at last, 
 almost winded, and stumbled out on the portico that gave 
 to the sea, a wide blue stretch before him. He stopped, 
 startled, as if he had unexpectedly sighted the heavenly 
 strand, and gazed blinking at the stretch of blue with the 
 wide white shore and the boom of an organ following the 
 lapping of each white crested wave. Those palm trees cer- 
 tainly made it look queer like Saxy's Pilgrim's Progress 
 picture book. Then the panic for home and his business 
 came upon him and he slid weakly down the shallow white 
 steps, and crunched his white feet on the gravel wincing. 
 He had just taken to the grass at the edge and was man- 
 aging better than he had hoped when a neat little coupe 
 rounded the curve of the drive, and his favorite doctor 
 came swinging up to the steps, eyeing him keenly. Billy 
 started to run, and fell in a crumpled heap, white and 
 scared and crying real tears, weak, pink tears! 
 
 " Why Billy ! What are you doing here ? " The stern 
 
284 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 loving voice of his favorite doctor hung over him like a 
 knife that was going to cut him off forever from Hfe and 
 light and forgiveness and all that he counted dear. 
 
 But Billy stopped crying. 
 
 " Nothin," he said, " I just come out fer a walk ! '* 
 
 The doctor smiled. 
 
 '' But I didn't tell you you might, Billy boy! " 
 
 " Had to," said Billy. 
 
 " Well, you'll find you'll have to go back again, Billy. 
 Come ! " and the doctor stooped his broad strong 
 shoulders to pick up the boy. But Billy beat him 
 off weakly : j 
 
 " Say, now. Doc, wait a minute," he pleaded, " It's 
 jus' this way. I simply gotta get back home t'day. I'm a 
 very 'mportant witness in a murder case. See? My bes' 
 friend in the world is bein' tried fer life, an' he ain't guilty, 
 an' I'm the only one that knows it fer sure, an' can prove 
 it, an' I gotta be there. Why, Doc, the trial's going on now 
 an' I ain't there ! It ud drive me crazy to go back an' lay 
 in that soft bed Hke a reg'lar sissy, an' know he's going to 
 be condemned. I put it to you. Doc, as man to man, would 
 you stand fer a thing like that? " 
 
 " But Billy, suppose it should be the end of you ! " 
 
 " I sh'd worry. Doc ! Ef I c'n get there in time an' say 
 what I want I ain't carin 'fer anythin' more in life I tell ye. 
 Say, Doc, you wouldn't stop me, would ya ? Ef you did I'd 
 get thar anyhow someway! " 
 
 The earnestness of the eager young face, wan in its 
 illness, the light of love in the big gray eyes, went to the 
 doctor's heart. He gave the boy a troubled look. 
 
 " Where is it you want to go, Billy ? " 
 
 " Economy, Doc. It ain't far, only two or three hours') 
 ride. I c'n get a jitney somewheres I guess ta take me. I'll 
 pay up ez soon as I get home. I got thirty dollars in the 
 bank my own self." 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 285 
 
 " Economy ! " said the Doctor. " Impossible, Billy, it 
 would kill you — ! " 
 
 " Then I'm goin' anyhow. Good-by Doc ! " and he 
 darted away from the astonished doctor and ran a rod or 
 so before the doctor caught up with him and seized him 
 firmly by his well shoulder: 
 
 " Billy, look here ! " said the Doctor, " If it's as bad as 
 that I'll take you!'' 
 
 " Oh, would ya, Doc? Would ya? I'll never forget 
 itDoc— !" 
 
 " There now, Billy, never mind, son, you save your 
 strength and let me manage this thing the right way. 
 -Couldn't I telephone and have them hold up things a few 
 days ? That can be done you know." 
 
 " Nothin' doing Doc, there's them that would hurry it 
 up all the more if they thought I was comin' back. You get 
 in Doc and start her up. I c'n drive myself if you'll lend 
 me the m' chine. P'raps you ain't got time to go off 'ith me 
 like this." 
 
 " That's all right, Billy. You and I are going on a 
 little excursion. But first I've got to tell the nurse, or 
 there'll be all kinds of a time. Here, you sit in the 
 machine." The doctor picked him up and put him 
 in and ran up the steps. Billy sat dizzily watching and 
 wondering if he hadn't better make his escape. Per- 
 haps the Doc was just fooling him, but in a moment back 
 he came again, with a nurse trailing behind with blankets 
 and a bottle. 
 
 " We're going to get another car, son, this one's no 
 good for such a trip. We'll fix it so you can lie down and 
 save your strength for when you get there. No, — son — I 
 don't mean the ambulance," as he saw the alarm in Billy's 
 face, "just a nice big car. That's all right, here she comes 1" 
 
 The big touring car came round from the back almost 
 immediately, and the back seat was heaped with pillows 
 
286 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 and blankets and Billy tenderly placed among them where 
 he was glad enough to lie down — ^and close his eyes. It 
 had been rather, strenuous. The nurse went back for his 
 shoes, bringing a bottle of milk and his medicine. The 
 Doctor got in the front seat and started. 
 
 " Now, son," he said, " You rest. You'll need every 
 bit of strength when you get there if we're going to carry 
 this thing through. You just leave this thing to me and I'll 
 get you there in plenty of time. Don't you worry." 
 
 Billy with a smile of heavenly bliss over his newly 
 bleached freckles settled back with dreamy eyes and 
 watched the sea as they were passing swiftly by it, his 
 lashes drooping lower and lower over his thin young 
 cheeks. The doctor glancing back anxiously caught that 
 look the mothers see in the young imps when they are 
 asleep, and a tenderness catne into his heart for the staunch 
 loyal little sinner. 
 
 Doctor Norris was a good scout. If he had got a soft 
 snap of a job in that Shaft on hospital, it was good practice 
 of course, and a step to really big things where he wouldn't 
 be dependent upon rich people's whims, but still he was a 
 good scout. He had not forgotten the days of the grass- 
 hopper, and Billy had made a great appeal to his heart. He 
 looked at his watch, chose his roads, and put his machine 
 at high speed. The sea receded, the Jersey pines whirled 
 monotonously by, and by and by the hills began to crop up. 
 Off against the horizon Stark mountain loomed, veiled 
 with a purple haze, and around another curve Economy 
 appeared, startlingly out of place with its smug red brick 
 walks and its gingerbread porches and plastered tile 
 bungalows. Then without warning Billy sat up. How 
 long had that young scamp been awake ? Had he slept at 
 all? He was like a man, grave and stern with business 
 before him. The doctor almost felt shy about giving him 
 his medicine. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 287 
 
 " Son, you must drink that milk/' he said firmly. 
 " Nothing doing unless you drink that ! " Billy drank it. 
 
 " Now where? " asked the doctor as they entered the 
 straggling dirty little town. 
 
 " That red brick building down the next block/' 
 pointed Billy, his face white with excitement, his eyes 
 burning like two dark blue coals. 
 
 The big car drew up at the curb, and no one there to 
 notice, for every body was inside. The place was jammed 
 to the door. 
 
 Cherry had come back late after lunch, her hat awry 
 and signs of tears on her painted face. Her eyes were 
 more obviously frightened and she whispered a message 
 which was taken up to Mark. Mark lifted a haggard face 
 to hear it, asked a question, bowed his head, and continued 
 listening to the cross-examination of a man who said he 
 had heard him threaten to kill Dolph the week before the 
 murder down at Hagg's Mills. When the witness was 
 dismissed Mark whispered a word to his lawyer, the 
 lawyer spoke to the judge and the judge announced that 
 the prisoner wished to speak. Every eye was turned 
 toward Mark as he rose and gave a sweeping glance around 
 the room, his eyes lingering for just a shadow of an instant 
 wistfully on the faces of the minister and his wife, then on 
 again as if they had seen no one, and round to the 
 judge's face. 
 
 It was just at this instant that Billy burst into the room 
 and wedged his way fiercely between elbows, using his old 
 football methods, head down and elbows out, and stood a 
 moment breathless, taking it all in. 
 
 Then Mark spoke : 
 
 " Your Honor, I wish to plead guilty to the charge ! " 
 
 A great sigh like a sob broke over the hush in the 
 court room and many people half rose to their feet as if in 
 protest, but Billy made a dive up the aisle, self and 
 
288 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 sickness forgotten, regardless of courts or law or anything, 
 and stood between the Judge and Mark : 
 
 " It ain't so, an' I can prove it ! " he shouted at the top 
 of his lungs. 
 
 The prosecuting attorney rose to a point of order like a 
 bull dog snapping at his prey, the sergeant-at-arms rushed 
 around like corn popping off in a corn popper, but Anthony 
 Drew whispered a word to the Judge, and after order was 
 restored Billy was called to the witness stand to tell 
 his story. 
 
 Doctor Norris standing squeezed at the back of the 
 room looking for his quondam patient, recognized with 
 a thrill the new Billy standing unafraid before all these 
 people and speaking out his story in a clear direct way. 
 Billy had etherealized during his illness. If Aunt Saxon 
 had been there — she was washing for Gibsons that day 
 and having her troubles with Mrs. Frost — she would 
 scarcely have known him. His features had grown deli- 
 cate and there was something strong and sweet about his 
 mouth that surely never had been there before. But the 
 same old forceful boy speech wherewith he had subdued 
 enemies on the athletic fields, buUied Aunt Saxon, and put 
 one over on Pat at the station, was still his own. He told 
 the truth briefly and to the point, not omitting his own 
 wrong doing in every particular, and he swayed that crowd 
 as a great orator might have been proud to sway a congre- 
 gation. They laughed till they cried and cried till they 
 laughed again at Billy's quaint phrases, and they enjoyed 
 the detour — Oh how they enjoyed that detour! Even the 
 Judge had twinkles in his eyes. 
 
 For the first time since the trial began Mark was sit- 
 ting up proudly, a warm look of vivid interest in his face, 
 the cold mask gone. His eyes dwelt upon Billy with a look 
 almost fatherly, at least brotherly. It was a startling con- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 289 
 
 trast to what he had been all day. This was a dif- 
 ferent man. 
 
 Suddenly from the corner of the prosecution the low 
 growl which had been gradually rising like a young storm, 
 broke, and the prosecuting attorney arose and lifted his 
 voice above all others : 
 
 " I protest your Honor, against this witness. He has 
 mentioned no less than five different Hes which he has told, 
 and has narrated a number of episodes in which he dehb- 
 erately broke the law. Is it or is it not a misdemeanor 
 for anyone to meddle with our Highroads in the manner 
 that has just been described? By his own confession this 
 young man is disqualified for a witness ! By his own con- 
 fession he is a law breaker and a liar ! " 
 
 " Aw Gee ! " broke forth Billy furiously, " Didn't I 
 tell ya I come here to tell the truth n' get it off'n my chest?'* 
 
 Someone put a strong hand on Billy and silenced him, 
 and some one else rose to protest against the protestor, and 
 the air grew tense with excitement once more. 
 
 The prosecution declared that Billy was in league with 
 Mark, that everybody knew he trailed him everywhere, 
 therefore his testimony was worthless. He was probably 
 bribed ; there was nothing, absolutely nothing in the story 
 the boy had told to prove anything. 
 
 Billy was growing whiter and angrier, his eyes flash- 
 ing, his fists clenched. His testimony was not going to be 
 accepted after all! It had been vain to bear the shame 
 himself. Nothing, nothing that he could do would blot out 
 the trouble because he had unfitted himself to blot it out. 
 It had to be a witness who told the truth who would be 
 believed. It had to be one with a good record to take 
 away the shame! That was something like what Miss 
 Marilyn said in Sunday School once, that only Jesus Christ 
 could take the place of a sinner and make it right about 
 our sinning because He had never sinned. It had sounded 
 
 19 
 
290 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 like rot when she said it, but he began to understand what 
 she meant now. Yes, that was it. Only God's Son could 
 do that and he, Billy Gaston, had tried to do it himself ! 
 
 The court room seemed to be very dark now. His 
 head was whirling away and getting beyond his control. 
 When he looked up he seemed to see it on the other side 
 of the room. He did not recognize the two men in hand- 
 cuffs that the Chief was bringing into the room. He did 
 not hear what the Judge was saying. He had slumped in 
 a little heap on the witness stand with his eyes closed, and 
 his hands groping together. He thought that he was pray- 
 ing to God's Son to come and help Mark because he had 
 failed. He wasn't good enough and he had failed! 
 
 The doctor had come with a bound up the aisle and was 
 kneeling with Billy in his arms. Mark was leaning over 
 the rail with a white anxious face. The minister was try- 
 ing to make a way through the crowd, and the sergeant- 
 at-arms was pushing the crowd back, and making a space 
 about the unconscious boy. Some-one opened a window. 
 The Chief and one of his men brought a cot. There was 
 a pillow from the car, and there was that medicine again — 
 bringing him back — just as he thought he had made God 
 hear — ! Oh, why did they bother him? " 
 
 Suddenly down by the door a diversion occurred. 
 Someone had entered with wild burning eyes dressed in a 
 curious assortment of garments. They were trying to put 
 him out, but he persisted. 
 
 The word was brought up : " Someone has a very im- 
 portant piece of evidence which he wishes to present." 
 
 Billy's gray eyes opened as the man mounted to the 
 witness stand. He was lying on the cot at one side and 
 his gaze rested on the new witness, dazedly at first, andj 
 then with growing comprehension. Old Ike Fenner, the 
 tailor, Cherry Fenner's father! 
 
 Mark was looking at Billy and had not noticed : 
 
 But the man began to speak in a high shrill voice : 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 291 
 
 " I came to say that I'm the man that killed Dolph 
 Haskins ! Mark Carter had nothin' to do with it. I done 
 it ! I meant to kill him because he ruined the life of my 
 little girl! My baby J'* 
 
 There was a sudden catch in his voice like a great sob, 
 and he clutched at the rail as if he were going to fall, but 
 he went on, his eyes burning like coals : 
 
 " I shot him with Tom Petrie's gun that I found atop 
 o' the door, an' I put it back where I found it. You take 
 my finger prints and compare 'em with the marks on the 
 gun an' the winder sill. You ask Sandy Robison! He 
 seen me do it. You ask Cherry ! She seen me too. She 
 was facin' the winder eatin' her supper with that devil, 
 and I shot him and she seen me ! / did it — " 
 
 His voice trailed off. He swayed and got down from 
 the stand, groping his way as if he could not see. The 
 crowd gave way with a curious shudder looking into his 
 wild burning eyes as he passed. A girl's scream back by the 
 door rang through the court. The man moaned, put out 
 his hands and fell forward. Kindly hands reached to catch 
 him. The doctor left Billy and came to help. 
 
 They carried him outside and laid him on the grass in 
 front of the court house. The doctor used every restor- 
 ative he had with him. Men hurried to the drug store. 
 They tried ever3^hing, but all to no avail. Ike Fenner the 
 tailor was dead! He had gone to stand before a 
 higher court ! 
 
 When it was all over, the finger prints and the red 
 tape, and the case had been dismissed, Mark came to Billy 
 where he was lying in the big car waiting, with his eyes 
 closed to keep back weak tears that would slip out now and 
 then. He knelt beside the boy and touched his hand, the 
 hand that looked so thin and weak and so little like Billy's : 
 
 " Kid," he said gently, " Kid, you've been a wonder ! 
 It was really you that saved me. Buddy ! My Buddy! '* 
 
 Billy's tears welled over at the tone, the words, the 
 
^92 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 proud intimate name, but he shook his head slowly, sadly. 
 
 " No," he said, " No, it wasn't me. I tried, but I 
 wasn't fit ! It had to be Him. 1 didn't understand ! They 
 wouldn't believe me. But He came as soon as I ast ! " 
 
 Mark looked at the doctor. 
 
 " Is he wandering a little ? " he asked in a low tone : 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder. He's been through enough to 
 make anyone wander. Here, son, take this." 
 
 Billy smiled and obediently accepted his medicine. 
 Mark held his hand all the way home. He knew that Mark 
 didn't understand but he was too tired to tell him now. 
 Sometime he would explain. Or perhaps Miss Lynn would 
 explain it for him. He was going home, home to Saxy 
 and Sabbath Valley and the bells, and Mark was free 1 He 
 liadn't saved him, but Mark was free ! 
 
 It was like a royal passage through the village as they 
 came into Sabbath Valley, for everybody came out to wave 
 at Mark and Billy. Even Mrs. Harricutt watched grimly 
 from behind her Holland shades. But Billy was too weak 
 to notice much, except, to sense it distantly, and Mark 
 would only lift his hat and bow, gravely, quietly as if it 
 didn't matter, just as he used to do when they carried him 
 round on their shoulders after a football game, and he 
 tried to get down and hide. Why did Mark still have that 
 sad look in his eyes ? Billy was too tired to think it out. 
 He was glad when they reached Aunt Saxon's door and 
 Mark picked him up as he used to do when he was just a 
 little kid, and carried him up to his room. Carried him 
 up and undressed him, while Saxy heard the story from 
 the doctor's lips, and laughed and cried and laughed again. 
 The nervy little kid ! He would always be a '' Httle kid " 
 to Saxy, no matter what he did. 
 
 He turned over in his own bed, his bed, and smelt the 
 sweet breath of the honeysuckle coming in at the window, 
 heard the thrushes singing their evening song up the 
 street. The sea had been great, but Oh, you Sabbath 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 29S 
 
 Valley ! Out there was the water spout, and some day he 
 would be strong enough to shin down it, and up it again. 
 He would play football this Fall, and run Mark's cart 
 Mark, grave, gentle, quiet, sitting beside him till he got 
 asleep, and his mother not knowing, down the street, and 
 Miss Lynn — ! 
 
 ''Mark — ^you'll tell Miss Marilyn about it all?'' He 
 opened his eyes to murmur lazily, and Mark promised 
 still gravely. 
 
 He shut his eyes and drifted away. What was that 
 the Chief had told him down at Economy in the car? 
 Something about three strange detectives stepping off the 
 train one day and nabbing Pat ? And Pat was up at Sing 
 Sing finishing his term after A.W.O.L. Was that straight 
 or only a dream? And anyhow he didn't care. He was 
 home again. Home — and forgiven! 
 
 Night settled sweetly down upon Sabbath Valley, hid^ 
 ing the brilliant autumn tinting of the street. Lynn had 
 made a maple nut cake and set the table for two before 
 she left the Carters, for her mother had slipped out of the 
 court room and telephoned her, and a fire was blazing in 
 the little parlor with the lace curtains and asters in every 
 vase all gala for the returning son. The mother and son 
 sat long before the fire, talking, pleasant converse, about 
 the time when Mark would send for her to come and live 
 with him, but not a word was said about the day. He saw 
 that his friends had helped to save his mother this one 
 great sorrow that she could not have borne, and he 
 was grateful. 
 
 Marilyn, up at the parsonage, with a great thankful- 
 ness upon her, went about with smiling face. The burden 
 seemed to have lifted and she was glad. 
 
 But that night at midnight there came the doctor from 
 Economy driving hard and stopping at the parsonage. 
 Cherry Fenner was dying and wanted to see Miss Marilyn. 
 Would she come? 
 
XXVI 
 
 Cherry's little bedroom under the roof was bright 
 with the confusion of cheap finery scattered everywhere 
 and swept aside at the sudden entrance of the death angel. 
 A neighbor had done her best to push away the crude 
 implements of complexion that were littering the cheap oak 
 bureau top, and the doctor's case and bottles and glasses 
 crowded out the giddy little accessories of beauty that 
 Cherry had collected. Two chairs piled high with draggled 
 finery, soiled work aprons and dresses made a forlorn and 
 miscellaneous disorder in one corner, and the closet door 
 sagged open with visions of more clothing hung many deep 
 upon the few hooks. 
 
 Mrs. Fenner stood at the head of the bed wringing her 
 hands and moaning uncontrolledly, and Cherry, little 
 Cherry, lay whitely against the pillow, the color all gone 
 from her ghastly pretty little face, that had lately hid its 
 ravished health and beauty behind a camouflage of paint. 
 There were deep dark circles under the limpid eyes that 
 now were full of mortal pain, and pitiful lines around the 
 cherry mouth that had been wont to laugh so saucily. 
 
 The doctor stood by the window, with the attitude of 
 grave waiting. The helpful neighbor lingered in the door- 
 way, holding her elbows and taking minute note of 
 Marilyn's dress. This might be a sad time, but one had 
 to live afterward, and it wasn't every day you got to see a 
 simple little frock with an air like the one the minister's 
 daughter wore. She studied it from neck to hem and 
 couldn't see what in the world there was about it anyway 
 to make her look so dressed up. Not a scratch of trim- 
 ming, not even a collar, and yet she could look like that ! 
 
 294 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 295 
 
 Mercy ! Was that what education and going to college did 
 for folks? 
 
 The light of a single unshaded electric bulb shone 
 startlingly down to the bed, making plain the shadow of 
 death even to an inexperienced eye. 
 
 Marilyn knelt beside the bed and took Cherry's cold 
 little hand in her own warm one. The waxen eyelids flut- 
 tered open, and a dart of something between fright and 
 pain went over her weird little face. 
 
 " Can I do anything for you Cherry ? " Marilyn's voice 
 was tender, pitiful. 
 
 " It's too late," whispered the girl in a fierce little 
 whisper, " Send 'em out — I — wantta — tell — ^you — 
 someth — ! " The voice trailed away weakly. The doctor 
 stepped over and gave her a spoonful of something, 
 motioned her mother and the neighbor away, tiptoeing out 
 himself and closing the door. The mother was sobbing 
 wildly. The doctor's voice could be heard quieting 
 her coldly : 
 
 The girl on the bed frowned and gathered effort 
 to speak : 
 
 " Mark Carter — didn't mean no harm — goin' — ^with 
 me — !" she broke out, her breath coming in gasps, "He was 
 tryin' — to stop me — goin' — with — Dolph — .' '' The eyes 
 closed wearily. The lips were white as chalk. She seemed 
 to have stopped breathing! 
 
 " It's all right — Cherry — " Marilyn breathed softly, 
 " It's all right — I understand ! Don't think any more 
 about it ! " 
 
 The eyes opened fiercely again, a faint determination 
 shadowed round the little mouth : 
 
 "You gotta know — !" she broke forth again with 
 effort. " He was good to me — when I was a little kid, and 
 when he found I was in trouble — " the breath came piti- 
 fully in gasps — **he — offered — to — marry me!" 
 
296 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 Marilyn's fingers trembled but she held the little cold 
 hand warmly and tried to keep back the tears that trembled 
 in her eyes. 
 
 *' He — didn't — want to — / He — just — done it to be 
 kind! But I — couldn't — see — it — ! That's — what — we — 
 argued — / '' Her voice grew fainter again. Marilyn with 
 gentle controlled voice pressed the little cold hand again : 
 
 " Never mind, Cherry dear — it's all right ! " 
 
 Cherry's eyes opened with renewed effort, anxiously: 
 
 "You won't — blame — Mark — ? He never — did — 
 nothin' — wrong — ! " He's — your — friend ! " 
 
 "No, Cherry! It's all right ! " 
 
 The girl seemed to have lost consciousness again, and 
 Marilyn wondered if she ought not to call the doctor, but 
 suddenly Cherry screamed out: 
 
 " There he is again ! He's come for me! Oh — I'm — 
 a — gon' ta — die! An' I'm afrrrr-aid!" 
 
 Cherry clutched at Marilyn's arm, and looked up with 
 far off gaze in which terror seemed f ro'^en. 
 
 The minister's daughter leaned farther over and gath- 
 ered the fragile form of the sick girl in her arms tenderly, 
 speaking in a soothing voice : 
 
 " Listen Cherry. Don't be afraid. Jesus is here. He'll 
 go with you ! " 
 
 " But I'm afraid of Jesus ! " the sharp httle voice 
 pierced out with a shudder, " I haven't been — good! '' 
 
 " Then tell Him you are sorry. You are sorry, 
 aren't you? " 
 
 " Oh, yes! " the weak voice moaned. " I — never — 
 meant — no — harm! I only — wanted — a little — ^good 
 time— !" 
 
 The eyes had closed again and she was almost gone. 
 The doctor had come in and he now gave her another 
 spoonful of medicine. Marilyn knew the time was short. 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 297 
 
 " Listen, Cherry, say these words after me ! '* Cherry's 
 eyes opened again and fastened on her face, eagerly : 
 
 " Jesus, I'm sorry — ! " 
 
 " Jesus — I'm — sor-ry — ! " repeated the weak voice 
 in almost a whisper. 
 
 " Please forgive me," said Marilyn slowly, distinctly. 
 
 " Please — for — give — ! " the slow voice repeated. 
 
 " And save me." 
 
 " — save — !" the voice was scarcely audible. 
 
 The doctor came and stood close by the bed, looking 
 down keenly, but Cherry roused once more and looked at 
 them, her sharp little voice stabbing out into the 
 silence piercingly, 
 
 '' Is that— alir " 
 
 " That is all," said Marilyn with a ring in her voice, 
 "Jesus died to take care of all the rest ! You can just rest 
 on Him!" 
 
 '''Oh-hl" The agony went out of the pinched little 
 face, a half smile dawned and she sank into rest. 
 
 As Marilyn went home in the dawn with the morning 
 star beginning to pale, and the birds at their early worship, 
 something in her own heart was singing too. Above the 
 feeling of awe over standing at the brink of the river and 
 seeing a little soul go wavering out, above even the wonder 
 that she had been called to point the way, there sang in her 
 soul a song of jubilation that Mark was exonerated from 
 shame and disgrace. Whatever others thought, whatever 
 she personally would always have believed, it still was 
 great that God had given her this to make her know that 
 her inner vision about it had been right. Perhaps, some- 
 time, in the days that were to come, Mark would tell her 
 about it, but there was time enough for that. Mark would 
 perhaps come to see her this morning. She somehow felt 
 sure that at least he would come to say he was glad she 
 had stayed with his mother. It was like Mark to do that. 
 
298 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 He never let any little thing that was done for him or his 
 pass unnoticed. 
 
 But the morning passed and Mark did not come. The 
 only place that Mark went was to see Billy. 
 
 " Billy, old man," he said, sitting down by the edge of 
 the bed where Billy was drowsing the early morning away, 
 just feehng the bed, and sensing Saxy down there making 
 chicken broth, and knowing that the young robins in the 
 apple tree under the window were grown up and flown 
 away. " Billy, I can't keep my promise to you after all. 
 I've got to go away. Sorry, kid, but she'll come to see you 
 and I want you to tell her for me all about it. I'm not for- 
 getting it. Kid, either, and you'll know, all the rest of my 
 life, yoii and I are buddies! Savvy, Kid? " 
 
 Billy looked at Mark with big understanding eyes. 
 There was sadness and hunger and great self control in 
 that still white face that he worshipped so devotedly. All 
 was not well with his hero yet. It came to him vaguely 
 that perhaps Mark too had even yet something to learn, 
 the kind of thing that was only learned by going through 
 fire. He struggled for words to express himself, but all' 
 he could find were : 
 
 "I say, Mark, why'n't'tya get it ofFn yer chest? 
 It's great! " 
 
 Perhaps there wouldn't have been another human i 
 Sabbath Valley, except perhaps it might have been Maril 
 who would have understood that by this low growled su 
 gestion Billy was offering confession of sin as a remedy fo! 
 his friend's ailment of soul, but Mark looked at him keenly, 
 almost tenderly for a long minute, and shook his hea 
 his face taking on a grayer, more hopeless look as he said 
 
 " I can't. Kid. It's too late! " 
 
 Billy closed his eyes for a moment. He felt it wasn 
 quite square to see into his friend's soul that way whe 
 he was off his guard, but he understood. He had passe 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 that way himself. It came to him that nothing he could 
 say would make any difference. He would have liked to 
 tell of his own experience in the court room and how he 
 had suddenly known that all his efforts to right his wrong 
 had been failures, that there was only One who could do 
 it, but there were no words in a boy's vocabulary to say 
 a thing like that. It sounded unreal. It had to be felt, and 
 he found his heart kept saying over and over as he lay 
 there waiting with closed eyes for Mark to speak : " Oh, 
 God! Whyn'tchoo show him Yerself? Why'n'tchoo 
 show him Yerself ? " He wondered if Miss Lynn couldn't 
 have shown Mark if he had only gone and talked it over 
 with her. But Mark said it was too late, " Well, 
 Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself, then? Why'n'tchoo show 
 him Yerself, God, — please!^' 
 
 Mark got up with a long sigh : 
 
 " Well, s'long. Kid, till I see you again. And I won't 
 forget Kid, you know I won't forget! And Kid, I'm 
 leaving my gun with you. I know you'll take good care 
 of it and not let it do any damage. You might need it you 
 know to take care of your Aunt, or — or — Miss 
 Severn — or ! " 
 
 "Sure ! " said Billy with shining eyes clasping the 
 weapon that had been Mark's proud possession for several 
 years. " Aw Gee ! Ya hadn't oughtta give me this ! You 
 might need it yourself." 
 
 " No, Kid, I'd rather feel that you have it. I want to 
 leave someone here to kind of take my place — watching — 
 you know. There'll be times — ! " 
 
 ** Sure ! " said Billy, a kind of glory overspreading 
 his thin eager face. *' Aw Gee! Mark ! " 
 
 And long after Mark had gone, and the sound of his 
 purring engine had died away in the distance, Billy lay 
 back with the weapon clasped to his heart, and a weird 
 kind of rhythm repeating itself over and over somewhere 
 
300 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 in his spirit: " Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself, God? 
 Why'n'tchoo show him Yerself ? You will ! I'll bet You 
 will! yet ! '' 
 
 And was that anything like the prayer of faith trans- 
 lated into theological language ? 
 
 Aunt Saxon went up tiptoe with the broth and thought 
 he was asleep and tiptoed down again to keep it warm 
 awhile. But Billy lay there and felt like Elisha after the 
 mantle of the prophet Elijah had fallen upon him. It gave 
 him a grand solemn feeling, God and he were somehow 
 taking Mark's place till Mark got ready to come back and 
 do it himself. He was to take care of Sabbath Valley as 
 far as in him lay, but more particularly of Miss 
 Marilyn Severn. 
 
 And then suddenly, without warning. Miss Marilyn 
 herself went away, to New York she said, for a few weeks, 
 she wasn't sure just how long. But there was something 
 sad in her voice as she said it, and something white about 
 the look she wore that made him sure she was not going 
 to the part of New York where Mark Carter lived. 
 
 Billy accepted it with a sigh. Things were getting 
 pretty dry around Sabbath Valley for him. He didn't 
 seem to get his pep back as fast as he had expected. For 
 one thing he worried a good deal, and for another the 
 doctor wouldn't let him play baseball nor ride a bicycle yet 
 for quite a while. He had to go around and act just like a 
 "gurrull!" Aw Gee! Sometimes he was even glad to 
 have Mary Little come across the street with her picture 
 puzzles and stay with him awhile. She was real good com- 
 pany. He hadn't ever dreamed before that girls could be 
 as interesting. Of course, Miss Marilyn had to be a girl 
 once, but then she was Miss Marilyn. That was different. 
 
 Then too, Billy hadn't quite forgotten that first morn- 
 ing that Saxy got her arms around him and cried over him 
 glad tears, bright sweet tears that wet his face and made 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 301 
 
 him feel like crying happy tears too. And the sudden sur- 
 prising desire he felt to hug her with his well arm, and how 
 she fell over on the bed and got to laughing because he 
 pulled her hair down in his awkwardness, and pulled her 
 collar crooked. Aw Gee! She was just Aunt Saxy and 
 he had been rotten to her a lot of times. But now it was 
 different. Somehow Saxy and he were more pals, or was 
 it that he was the man now taking care of Saxy and not the 
 little boy being taken care of himself ? Somehow during 
 those weeks he had been gone Saxy had cried out the pink 
 tears, and was growing smiles, and home was " kinda 
 nice " after all. But he missed the bells. And nights 
 before he got into bed he got to kneeling down regularly, 
 and saying softly inside his heart : " Aw Gee, God, please 
 why'n'tcha make Mark understand, an' why'n'tcha bring 
 'em both home? " 
 
XXVII 
 
 Marilyn had not been in New York but a week before 
 she met Opal. She was waiting to cross Fifth Avenue, 
 and someone leaned out of a big Hmousine that paused for 
 the congestion in traffic and cried : 
 
 " Why, if that isn't Miss Severn from Sabbath Valley. 
 Get in please, I want to see you." 
 
 And Lynn, much against her will, was persuaded to 
 get in, more because she was holding up traffic than be- 
 cause the woman in the limousine insisted : 
 
 "I'll take you where you want to go," she said in 
 answer to Lynn's protests, and they rolled away up the 
 great avenue with the moving throng. 
 
 " I'm dying to know what it is you're making Laurie 
 Shafton do," said Opal eagerly, " I never saw him so much 
 interested in anything in my life. Or is it you he's inter- 
 ested in. Why, he can*t talk of anything else, and he's 
 almost stopped going to the Club or any of the house 
 parties. Everybody thinks he's perfectly crazy. He won't 
 drink any more either. He's made himself quite notorious. 
 I believe I heard some one say the other day they hadn't 
 even seen him smoking for a whole week. You certainly 
 are a wonder." 
 
 '* You're quite mistaken," said Lynn, much amused, 
 " I had nothing to do with Mr. Shaf ton's present interest, 
 except as I happened to be the one to introduce him to it. I 
 haven't seen him but twice since I came to New York, and 
 then only to take him around among my babies at the Set- 
 tlement and once over to the Orphans' Home, where I've 
 been helping out while an old friend of mine with whom I 
 >vorked in France is away with her sick sister." 
 
 " For mercy's sake ! You don't mean that Laurie con- 
 
 802 
 
rHE CITY OF FIRE 303 
 
 sented to go among the poor? I heard he*d given a lot of 
 money to fix up some buildings, but then all the best men 
 are doing things like that now. It's quite the fad. But 
 to go himself and see the wretched little things, Ugh! I 
 don't see how he could. He must be quite crazy about you 
 I'm sure if he did all that for you." 
 
 " Oh, he seemed to want to see them," said Lynn 
 Hghtly, " and he suggested many of the improvements that 
 he is making himself. They tell me he has proved a great 
 helper, he is on hand at all hours superintending the build- 
 ing himself, and everybody is delighted with him — ! " 
 
 *' Mmmm ! " commented Opal looking at Marilyn 
 through the fringes of her eyes. " You really are a wonder. 
 And now that you are in New York Fm going to introduce 
 you to our crowd. When can you come ? Let's see. To- 
 morrow is Sunday. Will you spend the evening with me 
 to-morrow? I'll certainly show you a good time. We're 
 going to motor to — " 
 
 But Lynn was shaking her head decidedly : 
 
 " I couldn't possibly spare a minute, thank you. I'm 
 only out on an errand now. I'm needed every instant at 
 the Home!" 
 
 " For mercy sake ! Hire son^eone to take your place 
 then. I want you. You'll be quite a sensation I assure 
 you. Don't worry about clothes, if you haven't anything 
 along. You can wear one of my evening dresses. We're 
 almost of a size." 
 
 " No," said L3nin smiling, " It simply isn't possible. 
 And anyway, don't you remember Sabbath Valley? I 
 don't go out to play Sunday nights you know." 
 
 " Oh, but this is New York ! You can't bring Sabbath 
 Valley notions into New York." 
 
 Lynn smiled again: 
 
 " You can if they are a part of you," she said, " Come 
 in and see how nicely I'm fixed." 
 
804 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE I 
 
 Opal looked up at the beautiful building before which 
 they were stopping. 
 
 "Why, where is this?" she asked astonished, "I 
 thought you were down in the slums somewhere." 
 
 "This is a Home for little orphan children kept up by 
 the Salvation Army. Come in a minute and see it." 
 
 Following a whim of curiosity Opal came in, and was 
 led down a long hall to a great room where were a hundred 
 tiny children sitting on little chairs in a big circle playing 
 kindergarten games. The children were dressed in neat 
 pretty frocks such as any beloved children would wear, with 
 bright hair ribbons and neckties, and each with an individ- 
 uality of its own. The room was sunny and bright, with 
 a great playhouse at one end, with real windows and furni- 
 ture in it and all sorts of toboggan slides and swings and 
 kiddy cars and everything to delight the soul of a child. 
 On a wide space between two windows painted on the 
 plaster in soft wonderful coloring blended into the gray 
 tint of the wall, there glowed a, life size painting of the 
 Christ surrounded by little children, climbing upon His 
 knees and listening to Him as He smiled and talked 
 to them. 
 
 Opal paused in the doorway and looked at the picture 
 first, shyly, shamedly, as though it were no place for her 
 to enter, then curiously at the little children, with a kind of 
 wistful yearning, as if here were something she had missed 
 of her own fault. Lynn called out a charming baby and 
 made her shake hands and bow and say a few listing 
 smiling words. Opal turned to Lynn with a strangely 
 subdued look and spoke in a moved tone : 
 
 " I guess you're right," she said, " You wouldn't fit at 
 my company. You're different! But some day I'm 
 coming after you and bring you home all by yourself for a 
 little while. I want to find out what it is you have that 
 I need." 
 
THE CITY OF FIEE 305 
 
 Then she turned with swift steps and went down the 
 hall and out the door to her waiting limousine, and Lynn 
 smiled wonderingly as she saw her whirled away into the 
 world again. 
 
 Lynn had not seen Mark. 
 
 Laurie Shaft on had called upon her many times since 
 those two trips they had taken around the settlements and 
 looking over his condemned property, but she had been 
 busy, or out somewhere on her errands of mercy, so that 
 Laurie had got very little satisfaction for his trouble. 
 
 But Mark had seen Lynn once, just once, and that the 
 first time she had gone with Laurie Shaft on, as they were 
 getting out of his car in front of one of his buildings. 
 Mark had slipped into a doorway out of sight and watched 
 them, and after they passed into the building had gone on, 
 his face whiter and sadder than before. That w^as all. 
 
 Marilyn was to spend only a month in New York, as 
 at first planned, but the month lengthened into six weeks 
 before the friend whose place she was taking was able to 
 return, and two days before Marilyn was expecting to start 
 home there came a telephone message from her mother : 
 
 " Lynn, dear, Mrs. Carter is very low, dying, we think, 
 and we must find Mark at once ! There is not a minute to 
 lose if he wants to see her alive. It is a serious condition 
 brought on by excitement. Mrs. Harricutt went there to 
 call yesterday while everybody else was at Ladies' Aid. 
 And Lynn, she told her about Mark! Now, Lynn, can 
 you get somebody to go with you and find Mark right 
 away? Get him to come home at once ? Here is the last ad- 
 dress he gave, but they have no telephone and we dare not 
 wait for a telegram. See what you can do quickly ! '* 
 
 It was four o'clock in the afternoon when this message 
 came. Lynn put on a uniform of dark blue serge and a 
 poke bonnet that was at her disposal whenever she had 
 need of protection, and hurried out. 
 
 20 
 
306 THE CITY OF FIEE 
 
 She found the address after some trouble, but was told 
 that the young gentleman was out. No one seemed to 
 know when he would return. 
 
 Two or three other lodgers gathered curiously, one 
 suggesting a restaurant where he might be found, another 
 a club where he sometimes went and a third laughed and 
 called out from half way up the stairs : 
 
 " You'll find him at the cabaret around the corner by 
 ten o'clock to-night if you don't find him sooner. He's 
 always there when he's in town." 
 
 Sick at heart Lynn went on her way, trying carefully 
 each place that had been suggested but finding no trace of 
 him. She met with only deference for her uniform wher- 
 ever she went, and without the slightest fear she travelled 
 through streets at night that she would scarcely have liked 
 to pass alone in the daytime in her ordinary garb. But all 
 the time her heart was praying that she might find Mark 
 before it was too late. She tried every little clue that was 
 given her, hoping against hope that she would not have 
 to search for her old friend in a cabaret such as she knew 
 that place around the corner must be. But it was almost 
 ten o'clock and she had not found Mark. She went back 
 to the first address once more, but he had not come, and 
 so she finally turned her steps toward the cabaret. 
 
 Sadly, with her heart beating wildly, hoping, yet fear- 
 ing to find him, she paused just inside the doors and looke< 
 around, trying to get used to the glare and blare, the] 
 jazz and the smoke, and the strange lax garb, and to dif- 
 ferentiate the individuals from the crowd. 
 
 Food and drink, smoke and song, wine and dance, fleshj 
 and odd perfumes! Her soul sank within her, and sh( 
 turned bewildered to a servitor at the door. 
 
 " I wonder, is there any way to find a special persoi 
 here? I have a very important message." 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 307 
 
 The man bent his head deferentially as though to 
 one from another world, " Who did you want, Miss ? " 
 
 " Mr. Mark Carter,'' said Marilyn, feeling the color 
 rise in her cheeks at letting even this waiter see that she 
 expected to find Mark Carter here. 
 
 The man looked up puzzled. He was rather new at the 
 place. He summoned another passing one of his kind : 
 
 "Carter, Carter?'' the man said thoughtfully, "Oh, 
 yes, he's the guy that never drinks ! He's over there at 
 the table in the far corner with the little dancer lady — " 
 The waiter pointed and Lynn looked. " Would you like 
 me to call him. Miss ? " Lynn reflected quickly. Perhaps 
 he might try to evade her. She must run no risks. 
 
 " Thank you, I will go to him," she said, and straight 
 through the maze of candle lighted tables, and whirling 
 dancers, in her quiet holy garb, she threaded her way 
 hastily, as one might have walked over quicksands, with 
 her eye fixed upon Mark. 
 
 She came and stood beside him before he looked up and 
 saw her, and then he lifted his eyes from the face of the 
 girl with whom he was talking, and rose suddenly to his 
 feet, his face gone white as death, his eyes dark with dis- 
 approval and humiliation. 
 
 " Marilyn ! " His voice was shaking. He knew her 
 instantly in spite of poke bonnet and uniform. She was 
 the one thought present with him all the while, perhaps for 
 years wherever he had been. But he did not look glad to 
 see her. Instead it was as if his soul shrank shamedly from 
 her clear eyes as she looked at him : 
 
 Marilyn had not known what she was going to say to 
 him when she found him. She did not stop to think now. 
 
 " Mark, your mother wants you. She is dying ! You 
 must come quick or she will be gone ! " 
 
 Afterwards she repeated over the words to herself again 
 
308 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 and again as one might do penance, blaming herself that she 
 had not softened it, made it more easy for him to bear. 
 Yet at the time it seemed the only thing there was to say, 
 at such a time, in such a place. But at the stricken look 
 upon his face her heart grew tender. *' Come,'* she said 
 compassionately, " We will go ! " 
 
 They went out into the night and it was as if they had 
 suddenly changed places, as if she were the protector and 
 he the led. She guided him the quickest way. There was 
 only a chance that they might catch the midnight train, 
 but there was that chance. Into the subway she dived, 
 he following, and breathless, they brought up at the Penn- 
 sylvania station at their train gate as it was being closed, 
 and hurried through. 
 
 All through that agonized night they spoke but few 
 words, those two who had been so much to one another 
 through long happy years. 
 
 " But you are not going too? " he spoke suddenly 
 roused from his daze as the train started. 
 
 " Yes, I am going too, of course, Mark," she said. 
 
 He bowed his head and almost groaned : 
 
 " I am not worthy, — Marilyn 1 '^ 
 
 " That — has nothing to do with it ! " said Marilyn 
 sadly, " It never will have anything to do with it ! It 
 never did 1 " 
 
 Mark looked at her, with harrowed eyes, and dropped 
 his gaze. So he sat, hour after hour, as the train rushed 
 along through the night. And Marilyn, with head slightly 
 bent and meek face, beneath the poke bonnet with its 
 crimson band, was praying as she rode. Praying in other 
 words the prayer that Billy murmured beside his bed 
 every night. 
 
 But Billy was not lying in his bed that night, sleeping 
 the sleep of the just. He was up and on the job. He was 
 sitting in the Carter kitchen keeping up the fires, making a 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 309 
 
 cup of tea for the nurse and the doctor, running the endless 
 little errands, up to the parsonage for another hot water 
 bag, down to the drug store for more aromatic spirits of 
 ammonia, fixing a newspaper shade to dull the light in 
 the hall, and praying, all the time praying : " Oh, God, 
 ain'tcha gonta leave her stay till Mark gets here ? Ain'tcha 
 gonta send Mark quick? You know best I 'spose, but 
 ain'tcha gonta? '' and then " Aw Gee ! I wisht Miss Lynn 
 was here ! " 
 
 In the chill before the dawning the two stepped down 
 from the train at a little flag station three miles from Sab- 
 bath Valley on the upper road that ran along the Ridge. 
 They had prevailed upon the conductor to let them off 
 there. Mark had roused enough for that. And now 
 that they were out in the open country he seemed to 
 come to himself. He took care of Lynn, making her take 
 his arm, guiding her into the smooth places, helping her 
 over rough places. He asked a few questions too. How 
 did she know of his mother's condition? How long had 
 she been this way? Had she any idea that his mother's 
 heart was affected? Did she have a shock? '' 
 
 Lynn did not tell all she knew. It was hard enough 
 without that. He need not know that it was the knowledge 
 of his disgrace that had brought her to the brink of death. 
 
 So, walking and talking almost as in the old days, they 
 passed into Sabbath Valley and down the street, and 
 Christie McMertrie listening perhaps for this very thing, 
 crept from her bed in her long flannel night gown, and big 
 ruffled night cap, and looked out the window to see them go 
 by. "Bless them!" she breathed and crept back to her 
 bed again. She had nursed all day, and all the night be- 
 fore, and would have been there too to-night, only Mary 
 Rafferty took things in her own hands and had her go to 
 bed, herself taking charge. Mrs. Duncannon was there 
 too. There really was no need of her, but Christie could not 
 
310 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 sleep, and after they passed she rose and dressed and slip- 
 ped down the street with a hot porridge that had been 
 cooking on the stove all night, and the makings of a good 
 breakfast in her basket on her arm. 
 
 Mark Carter reached home in time to take his mother 
 in his arms and bid her good-bye. That was alk She 
 roused at his voice and touch, and reached out her little 
 pretty hands toward him. He took her in his big strong 
 arms and held her, kissed her with tender lips and she 
 drew a beautiful smile of perfect content and slipped away, 
 with the graying golden hair straying out over Mark's 
 sleeve to the pillow in a long curl, and a quiver of her last 
 smile on the pretty curve of her lips, as if this was all that 
 she had waited for, the little pretty girl that had gone to 
 school so long ago with golden hair and a smile. Billy, 
 standing awed in the doorway whither he had come to say 
 there was more hot water ready, caught the vision of her 
 face, remembered those school days, and felt a strange 
 constriction in his throat. Some day Saxy would have to 
 go like that, and would show the little girl in her face too, 
 and he maybe would have to hold her so and think of how 
 cross he had been. Aw Gee! Whattaqueer thing life was 
 anyhow! Well, hadn't his prayer been answered? Didn't 
 Mark get here in time ? Well, anyhow it was likely better 
 for Mrs. Carter to go. But it was rotten for Mark. Aw 
 Gee ! Mark ! Was this the way he had to learn it ? Aw Gee ! 
 Well, God would have to show him. He couldn't dope it 
 out anyhow. 
 
 During the days that followed Mark hardly stirred 
 from the side of the pretty little clay that had been his 
 mother except when they forced him for a little while. An 
 hour before the service he knelt alone beside the casket, 
 and the door opened and Marilyn came softly in, closing it 
 behind her. She walked over to Mark and laid her hand 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 311 
 
 on his hand that rested over his mother's among the 
 flowers, and she knelt beside him and spoke softly : 
 " Oh, God, help Mark to find the light! ^' 
 Then the soul of Mark Carter was shaken to the depths 
 and suddenly his self control which had been so great was 
 broken. His strong shoulders began to shake with sobs, 
 silent, hard sobs of a man who knows he has sinned, and 
 tears, scalding tears from the depths of his self-con- 
 tained nature. 
 
 Marilyn reached her arm out across his shoulders as a 
 mother would try to protect a child, and lifted her face 
 against his, wet with tears and kissed him on his fore- 
 head. Then she left him and went quietly out. 
 
 4: H« H: H: ^ ^ He 4: 
 
 ** Well," said Mrs. Harricutt with satisfaction as she 
 walked home after the funeral with Christie McMertrie, 
 ''I'm glad to see that Mark Carter has a little proper feel- 
 ing at last. If he'd showed it sooner his ma mighta ben in 
 the land of the living yet." 
 
 Christie's stern face grew sterner as she set her teeth 
 and bit her tongue before replying. Then she said with 
 more brrrr than usual in her speech: 
 
 Martha Harricutt, there's na land that's sa livin' as 
 tha land where Mark Carter's mither has ganged tae, but 
 there's them that has mair blame to bear f er her gaein' than 
 her bonny big son, I'm thinkin', an' there's them in this 
 town that agrees with me too, I know full well." 
 
 Down in front of the parsonage the minister had his 
 arm around Mark Carter's shoulders and was urging him : 
 
 " Son, come in. We want you. Mother wants you, I 
 want you. Marilyn wants you. Come son, come ! " 
 
 But Mark steadily refused, his eyes downcast, his face 
 sad, withdrawn : 
 
312 
 
 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 '* Mr. Severn, I'll come to-morrow. I can't come to- 
 night. I must go home and think ! " 
 
 " And you will promise me you will not leave without 
 coming, Mark? " asked the minister sadly when he saw 
 that it was no use. 
 
 ** Yes, I will promise ! " Mark wrung the minister's 
 hand in a warm grip that said many things he could not 
 speak, and then he passed on to his lonely home. But it 
 was not entirely empty. Billy was there, humbly, silently, 
 with dog-true eyes, and a grown up patient look on his 
 tired young face. He had the coffee pot on the stove and 
 hot sausages cooking on the stove, and a lot of Saxy's 
 doughnuts and a pie on the table. Billy stayed all night 
 with Mark. He knev^ Saxy would understand. 
 
XXVIII 
 
 I .......,,, 
 
 ^" Three minutes later Mark and Billy jyere flying down the 
 street, with Tom McMertrie and Jim Raiferty close aftei; 
 and a host of other tried and true, with the minister on the 
 other side of the street. The Fire Company of Sabbath 
 .Valley held a proud record, and the minister was an actiye 
 member of it. 
 
 The fire was up in the plush mill and had already 
 spread to a row of shackley tenements that the owners of 
 the mills had put up to house the foreign labor that they 
 had put in. They called them " apartment " houses, but 
 they were so much on the order of the city tenements of 
 several years back that it made Lynn's heart ache when 
 she went there to see a little sick child one day. Right in 
 the midst of God's trees and mountains, a man for money 
 had built a death trap, tall, and grim and dark, with small 
 rooms and tiny windows, built it with timbers too small 
 for safety, and windows too few for ventilation, and here 
 an increasing number of families were herded, in spite of 
 the complaints of the town. 
 
 " I ben thenkin' it would coom," said Tom as he took 
 long strides. " It's the apartmints fer sure, Jimmy. We 
 better beat it. There'll be only a meenit er so to get the 
 childer oot, before the whole thing's smoke ! " 
 
 They were all there, the doctor, the blacksmith, the 
 postmaster, the men from the mills, and the banks, and the 
 stores. Economy heard the bells — for Maril)rn had hur- 
 ried to the church and added the fire chime to the call — and 
 came over with their little chemical engine. Monopoly 
 heard and hurried their brand new hook and ladder up the 
 valley road, but the fire had been eating long in the heart 
 
 313/ 
 
314 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 of the plush mill and laughed at their puny streams of 
 water forced up from the creek below, laughed at the 
 chemicals flung in its face like drops of rain on a sizzling 
 red hot stove. It licked its lips over the edge of the cliff 
 on which it was built, and cracked its jaws as it devoured 
 the mill, window by window, section by section, leaping 
 across with an angry red tongue to the first tall building by 
 its side. 
 
 The fire had worked cunningly, for it had crept out of 
 sight to the lower floors all along the row, and unseen, un- 
 known, had bitten a hold on each of those doomed buildings 
 till when the men arrived it went roaring ghoulishly up the 
 high narrow stairs cutting off all escape from above, and 
 making entrance below impossible. Up at the windows 
 the doomed people stood, crying, praying, wringing their 
 hands, and some losing their heads and trying to jump out. 
 
 The firemen were brave, and worked wonders. They 
 flung up ladders in the face of the flames. They risked 
 their lives every step they took, and brought out one after 
 another, working steadily, grimly, rapidly. And none 
 were braver among them all than Mark Carter and the, 
 minister, each working on the very top of a tall treacherous 
 ladder, in the face of constant danger, bringing out on< 
 after another until the last. 
 
 The next house to the mill had caved in, and Mark ha( 
 come down just in time with an old woman who was bed-S 
 ridden and had been forgotten. The workers had pausec 
 an instant as the horrible sound of falling timbers rent 
 through the other noises of that horrible night, and thei 
 hurried to increase their vigilance. There were people ii 
 the top floor of the next house and it would go next. Thei 
 the word went forth that no more must go up the ladder^ 
 The roof was about to fall in, and a young mother shriekedj 
 "My baby! My baby! She's up in the bed. I thought 
 Bob had her, but he couldn't get up ! " Mark Carter looked 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE SlSh 
 
 at her sharply. *' Which window? ^' he asked, and was up 
 the ladder before detaining hands could reach him, and 
 Billy, sliding under the arm of the Fire Chief, swung up 
 just behind. 
 
 The crowd watched breathless as they mounted round 
 after round, Aunt Saxon standing with a shawl over her 
 head and gasping aloud, "Oh Willie!'' and then standing 
 still in fear and pride, the tears streaming down a smiling 
 countenance on which the red glare of the fire shone. The 
 ladder was set crazily against the flaming window and 
 swayed with their weight. Every step seemed as if it 
 would topple the building, yet the ladder held, and Mark 
 sprang through the blazing window out of sight. It 
 seemed an eternity till he returned bringing a tiny bundle 
 with him, and handing it out to Billy waiting below. 
 
 The boy received as it had been a holy honor, that lit- 
 tle bundle of humanity handed through the fire, and came 
 solemnly down amid the breathless gaze of the crowd, but 
 when they looked to the top again Mark had disappeared ! 
 
 A murmur of horror went round the throng, for the 
 flames were licking and snapping, and the roof seemed to 
 vibrate and quiver like a human thing. Then before any 
 one could stop him. or even saw what he was going to do, 
 the minister sprang forward up the ladder like a cat, two 
 rounds at a time, — ^three ! He dashed through the fire and 
 was gone! 
 
 For an instant it seemed that the people would go mad 
 with the horror of it. Those two! Even the Fire Chief 
 paused and seemed petrified. It was Billy who sensed the 
 thing to do. 
 
 " Getcher canvas man? Are ya' asleep ? " 
 
 And instantly a great piece of canvas was spread and 
 lifted. But the building tottered, the flames ate on, and 
 the window seemed entirely enveloped. The moment 
 lasted too long for the hearts that waited. A groan rent 
 
316 THE CITY OF FERE 
 
 the air. Then suddenly a breath seemed to part the flames 
 and they saw the minister coming forward with Mark in 
 his arms! 
 
 It was just at this instant that Lynn came flying down 
 the street. She had kept the bells going till she knew all 
 the help had come from a distance, and now she was com- 
 ing to see if there was anything else for her to do. There 
 before her she saw her father standing in that awful set- 
 ting of fire, with Mark limp and lifeless in his arms ! Then 
 the flames licked up and covered the opening once more. 
 Ohj God! Were they both gone? 
 
 Only for an instant more the suspense lasted, and then 
 the cateclysm of fire came. The roof fell carrying with it 
 the floors as it went, down, down, down, shuddering hke a 
 human thing as it went, the rain of fire pouring up and 
 around in great blistering flakes and scorching the on- 
 lookers and lighting their livid faces as they stood 
 transfixed with horror at the sight. 
 
 The canvas fluttered uselessly down and fire showered 
 thick upon it. Timbers and beams crumbled like paper 
 things and were no more. The whole flimsy structure 
 had caved in ! 
 
 Paralyzed with terror and sorrow the firemen stood 
 gazing, and suddenly a boy's voice rang out : " Aw Gee ! 
 Git to work there! Whatterya doin'? Playin' dominoes? 
 Turn that hose over there! That's where they fell. Say/j 
 you Jim, get that fire hook and lift that beam — ! Aw Gee!\ 
 Ya ain't gonta let 'em die, are ya, — ? Them two! " 
 
 Billy had seized a heavy hose and was turning it on a j 
 central spot and Jim Rafferty caught the idea and turned 
 his stream that way, and into the fire went the brave men, 
 one and another, instantly, cheerfully, devotedly, the men] 
 who loved the two men in there. Dead or alive they should 
 be got out if it killed them all. They would all die together. 
 The Fire Chief stood close to Billy, and shouted his direc- 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 317 
 
 tlons, and Billy worked with the tallest of them, black, 
 hoarse and weary. 
 
 It seemed ages. It was hours. It was a miracle ! But they 
 got those two men out alive ! Blackened and bruised and 
 broken, burned almost beyond recognition, but they were 
 alive. They found them lying close to the front wall, their 
 faces together, Mark's body covered by the minister's. 
 
 Tender hands brought them forth and carried them 
 gently on stretchers out from the circle of danger and 
 noise and smoke. Eagerly they were ministered to, with 
 oil and old linen and stimulants. There were doctors from 
 Economy and one from Monopoly besides the Sabbath 
 Valley doctor, who was like a brother to the minister and 
 had known Mark since he was born. They worked as if 
 their lives depended upon it, till all that loving skill could 
 do was done. 
 
 Billy, his eyelashes and brows gone, half his hair 
 singed off, one eye swollen shut and great blisters on his 
 hands and arms, sat huddled and shivering on the ground 
 between the two stretchers. The fire was still going on 
 but he was " all in." The only thing left he could do was 
 to bow his bruised face on his trembling knees and pray : 
 
 '' Oh God, Ain't You gonta let 'em live — please! " 
 
 They carried Mark to the Saxon cottage and laid him 
 on Billy's bed. There was no lack of nurses. Aunt Saxon 
 and Christie McMertrie, the Duncannons and Mary 
 Rafferty, Jim too, and Tom. It seemed that everybody 
 claimed the honors. The minister was across the street 
 in the Little House. They dared not move him farther. 
 Of the two the case of the minister was the most hopeless. 
 He had 'borne the burden of the fall. He had been struck 
 by the falling timbers, his body had been a cover for 
 the younger man. In every way the minister had not 
 saved himself. 
 
 The days that followed were full of anxiety. There 
 
318 THE CITY OF FffiE 
 
 were a few others more or less injured in the fire, for ther« 
 had been fearless work, and no one had spared himself^ 
 But the two who hung at the point of death for so lonj 
 were -laid on the hearts of the people, because they wen 
 dear to almost every one. 
 
 Little neighborhood prayer meetings sprang up quietb 
 here and there, beginning at Duncannons. The neighbor oi 
 either side would come in and they would just drop do^ 
 and pray for the minister, and for " that other dear bra'^ 
 brother." Then the Littles heard of it and called in a fei 
 friends. One night when both sufferers were at the crisi! 
 and there seemed little hope for the minister, Christie 
 McMertrie called in the Raffertys and they were just on 
 the point of kneehng down when Mrs. Harricutt came to 
 the door. She had been crying. She said she and her 
 husband hadn't slept a wink the night before, they were 
 so anxious for the minister. Christie looked at her severely, 
 but remembering the commands about loving and for- 
 giving, relented : 
 
 " Wull then, come on ben an' pray. Tom, you go call 
 her husband! This is na time fer holdin' grudges. But 
 mind, wumman, if ye coom heer to pray ye must pray with 
 as mooch fervor for the healin' o' Mark Carter as ye do 
 fer the meenister ! He's beloved of the Lord too, an' the 
 meenister nigh give his life for him." 
 
 And Mrs. Harricutt put up her apron to her eyes and 
 entered the little haircloth parlor, while Tom, with a wry 
 face went after the elder. The elder proved that under- 
 neath all his narrowness and prejudice he had a grain of 
 the real truth, for he prayed with fervor that the Lord 
 would cleanse their hearts from all prejudice and open their 
 minds to see with heavenly vision that they might have 
 power in prayer for the healing of the two men. 
 
 So, through the whole little village breaches were 
 healed, and a more loving feeling prevailed because the 
 
THE CITY OF FIBE 81» 
 
 0bo 
 
 nd of anxiety and love held them all together and drew 
 them nearer to their God. 
 
 At last the day came when Mark, struggling up out of 
 the fiery pit of pain, was able to remember. 
 
 Pain, fire, flame, choking gases, smoke, remorse, 
 despair ! It was all vague at first, but out of it came the 
 memory slowly. There had been a fire. He had gone 
 back up the ladder after Mrs. Blimm's baby. He remem- 
 bered groping for the child in the smoke filled room, and 
 bringing it blindly through the hall and back to the win- 
 dow where the ladder was, but that room had all been in 
 flames. He had wished for a wet cloth across his face. 
 He could feel again the licking of the fire as he passed the 
 doorway. A great weight had been on his chest. His heart 
 seemed bursting. His head had reeled, and he had come to 
 the window just in time. Some one had taken the child — 
 was it Billy ? — or he would have fallen. He did fall. The 
 memory pieced itself out bit by bit. He remembered 
 thinking that he had entered the City of Fire literally at 
 last, "the minarets " already he seemed to descry "gleam- 
 ing vermilion as if they from the fire had issued." It was 
 curious how those old words from Dante had clung in his 
 memory. " Eternal fire that inward burns." He thought 
 he was feeling now in his body what his soul had ex- 
 perienced for long months past. It was the natural ending, 
 the thing he had known he was coming to all along, the 
 road of remorse and despair. A fire that goes no more 
 out ! And this would last forever now ! Then, someone, 
 some strong arm had lifted him — God's air swept in — ^and 
 for an instant there seemed hope. But only that little 
 breath of respite and there came a cry Hke myriads of lost 
 souls. They were falling, falling, down through fire, with 
 fire above, below, around, everywhere. Down, down, — 
 an abysmal eternity of fire, till his seared soul writhed 
 
S20 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 from his tortured body, and stood aside looking 
 at himself. 
 
 There, there he lay, the Mark Carter that had started' 
 with life so fair, friends, prospects, so proud that he was 
 a man, that he could conquer and be brave — so blest with' 
 opening life, and heaven^s high call! And then — in one 
 day — he had sinned and lost it all, and there he lay, a white 
 upturned face. That was himself, lying there with face 
 illumined by the fire, and men would call him dead ! But 
 he would not be dead ! He would be living on with that 
 inward fire, gnawing at his vitals, telling him continually 
 what he might have been, and showing him what high 
 heaven was that he had had, and lost. He saw it now. He 
 had deliberately thrown away that heaven that had been^ 
 his. He saw that hell was hell because he made it so, it 
 was not God that put him there, but he had chosen thei 
 to go. And still the fire burned on and scorched his pool 
 soul back into the body to be tortured more. The lot 
 weeks upon that bed seemed like an infinite space of burn- 
 ing rosy, oily flames poured upward from a lake of fire, 
 down through which he had been falling in constant an< 
 increasing agony. 
 
 And now at last he seemed to be flung upon this peace- 
 ful shore where things were cool and soothing for a briei 
 respite, that he might look off at where he had been float- 
 ing on that molten lake of fire, and understand it all befon 
 he was flung back. And it was all so very real. With hij 
 eyes still closed he could hear the rushing of the flamei 
 that still seemed ascending in columns out a little way f roi 
 shore, he could see through his eyelids the rosy hue of livi( 
 waters — of course it was all a hallucination, and he was 
 coming to himself, but he had a feeling that when he was 
 fully awake it would be even more terrible than now. Tw( 
 grim figures. Remorse and Despair, seemed waiting atj 
 either hand above his bed to companion him again whei 
 he could get more strength to recognize them, And so 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 321 
 
 lay thus between life and death, and faced what he had 
 done. Hours and hours he faced it, when they knew not 
 if he was conscious yet, going over and over again those 
 sins which he knew had been the beginning of all his walk 
 away from Hope. On through the night and into the 
 next morning he lay thus, sometimes drowsing, but most 
 of the time alert and silent. 
 
 It was a bright and sparkling morning. There was a 
 tang of winter in the air. The leaves were gone from the 
 apple trees at the window and the bare branches tapped 
 against the water spout like children playing with a rattle. 
 A dog barked joyously, and a boy on the street shouted out 
 to another — Oh, to be a boy once more! And suddenly 
 Mark knew Billy was sitting there. He opened his eyes 
 and smiled: There were bandages around his face, but 
 he smiled stiffly, and Billy knew he was smiling. 
 
 " Kid," he said hoarsely from out the bandages, " This 
 is God's world.'* It seemed to be a great thought that he 
 had been all this time grasping, and had to utter. 
 
 " Sure ! " said Billy in a low happy growl. 
 
 A long time after this, it might have been the next day, 
 he wasn't sure, or perhaps only a few minutes, he came at 
 another truth: 
 
 "Kid, you can't get away from God— even when you try." 
 
 "I'll say not," said Billy. 
 
 " But — ^when you've sinned — ! " speculatively. 
 " You gotta get it off yer chest." 
 
 " You mean — confess? " 
 
 " Sure thing. Miss Lynn tells us in Sunday School 
 about a fella in the Bible got downta eatin' with the pigs 
 in a far country, an' when he come to himself he thought 
 about his father's servants, an' he said ' I'll get up and 
 beat it home an' say I'm sorry ! ' " 
 
 "I know," said Mark, and was still the rest of the day. 
 But the next morning he asked the doctor how soon he 
 might get up. This was the first real indication that Mark 
 
 21 
 
sn THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 was on the mend, and the doctor smiled with satisfaction. 
 He meant to take off some of the bandages that morning. 
 
 That afternoon with his head unswathed, Mark began 
 to ask questions. Before that he had seemed to take every- 
 thing for granted : 
 
 "Billy, whereas the minister?'* For Billy have never 
 left his idol's side except when Aunt Saxon needed him 
 to help. 
 
 "Oh, he's up to tha parsonage," responded Billy 
 carelessly. 
 
 " But why hasn't he been to see me, Kid? " 
 
 " Why — he — hasn't been feelin' very good." Billy's 
 voice was brisk as if it wasn't a matter of much moment. 
 
 Mark turned his thoughtful gray eyes steadily on Billy : 
 
 " Now, look here, Kid, I'm well, and there's no further 
 need to camouflage. Billy, is the minister dead? " 
 
 " Not on yer tin type, he ain't dead 1 " 
 
 "Well, is he hurt?" 
 
 " Well, some" Billy admitted cheerfully. 
 
 " Kid, look me in the eye." 
 
 Billy raised a saucy eye as well masked as Mark's own 
 could be on occasion. 
 
 " Kid, how much is he hurt! Tell me the truth! If 
 you don't I'll get right up and go and see." 
 
 " I'll tell the world, you won't ! " said Billy rising lazily 
 and taking a gentle menacing step toward the bed. 
 
 "Kid!" 
 
 " Well — he's some hurt — ^but he's getting along finei 
 now. He'll be aw'wright." 
 
 "How'd he get hurt?" 
 
 " Oh, the fire, same's you." 
 
 "How? "insisted Mark. 
 
 " Oh, he went up again after a fella when it was 
 too late—" 
 
 "Billy, was it me?'' 
 
 "Ugh huh I" nodded Billy. 
 
THE CITY OF FIBE 323 
 
 Mark was so still that Billy was frightened. When he 
 looked up worried he saw that a great tear had escaped 
 out from under the lashes which were growing nicely now, 
 and had rolled down Mark's cheek. Mark crying! 
 
 In consternation Billy knelt beside the bed: 
 
 ** Aw Gee ! Mark, now don't you feel like that. He's 
 gettin' all right now they hope, an' Gee! He was great I 
 You oughtta seen him ! " 
 
 " Tell me about it," said Mark huskily. 
 
 " He just ran up that there ladder when it was shaking 
 like a leaf, an' the wall beginning to buckle under it, an' he 
 picked you up. Fer a minute there the flames kinda blew 
 back, and we seen ya both, and then the roof caved, an' 
 you all went down. But when we gotcha out he was layin' 
 right atop of ya, 'ith his arms spread out, trying t'cover 
 ya! Gee, it was great! Everybody was just as still, like 
 he was preachin' ! " 
 
 After a long time Mark said : 
 
 " Billy, did you ever hear the words, ' Greater love 
 hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for 
 his friend?"' 
 
 " Yep," said Billy, " That's in the Bible I think, if 
 'taint in Shakespeare. Miss Lynn said it over last Sunday. 
 She says a lot of things from Shakespeare sometimes, and 
 I kinda get'em mixed." 
 
 But Mark did not talk any more that day. He had a 
 great deal to think about. 
 
 But so did Billy, for looking out the window in the 
 direction of the parsonage he had sighted the big Shafton 
 car stopping before the door that morning. " Aw Gee 1 " 
 he said. " That sissy-guy again ? " Now, how'm I gonta 
 get rid of him this time ? Gee I Just when Mark's gettin' 
 well tool If life ain't just one thing after another! *' 
 
XXIX 
 
 It was a bright frosty morning in the edge of winter 
 when at last they let Mark go to see the minister, and Billy 
 took care that no hint of the Shafton car should reach his 
 knowledge. Slowly, gravely he escorted Mark down the 
 street and up the parsonage steps. 
 
 The minister was lying on a couch in the living room 
 and there was a low^ chair drawn up near by with a book 
 open at the place, and a bit of fluffy sewing on the low table 
 beside it. Mark looked hungrily about for the owner of 
 the gold thimble, but there was no sign of either Mrs. 
 Severn or Marilyn about. 
 
 There was a bandage over the minister's eyes. They 
 hadn't told Mark about that yet. 
 
 The minister held out a groping hand with his old sweet 
 smile and hearty welcoming voice : 
 
 " Well, son, you've come at last ! Beat me to it, didn't 
 you? I'm glad. That was fair. Young blood you know." 
 
 Mark knelt down by the couch with his old friend's hand 
 held fast : Billy had faded into the landscape out on the 
 front steps somewhere, and was even now settling down for 
 an extended wait. If this interview went well he might 
 hope to get a little rest and catch up on sports sometime 
 soon. It all depended on this. 
 
 Mark put up his other hand and touched the bandage : 
 
 "Father!" he said, "Father!" and broke down 
 " Father, I have sinned — " he said brokenly. 
 
 The minister's arm went lovingly up across the young 
 man's shoulders : 
 
 " Son, have you told your heavenly Father that ? " he 
 asked gently. 
 
 " I've tried," said Mark, " I'm not sure that He heard." 
 dS4 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 325 
 
 " Oh, He heard'' said the minister with a ring of joy- 
 in his voice, " While you were a great way off He came to 
 meet you, son.'* 
 
 ** You don't know yet," said Mark lifting a white 
 sad face — " 
 
 "If you've told Him I'll trust you son. It's up to you 
 whether you tell me or not." 
 
 " It is your right to know, sir. I want you to know. I 
 cannot rest again until you do." 
 
 " Then tell." The minister's hand folded down ten- 
 derly over the boy's, and so kneeling beside the couch Mark 
 told his story: 
 
 " I must begin by telling you that I have always 
 loved Marilyn." 
 
 " I know," said the minister, with a pressure on the 
 hand he covered. 
 
 " One day I heard someone telling Mrs. Severn that I 
 was not good enough for her : " 
 
 " I know," said the minister again. 
 
 " You know ? " said Mark in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, go on." 
 
 " I went away and thought it over. I felt as if I would 
 die. I was mad and hurt clear through, but after I 
 thought it over I saw that all she had said was true. I 
 wasn't good enough. There was a great deal of pride 
 mixed with it all of course, I've seen that since, but I wasn't 
 good enough. Nobody was. Lynn is, — wonderful — / 
 But I was just a common, insignificant nobody, not fit to 
 be her mate. I knew it ! I could see just how things were 
 going too. I saw you didn't realize it, you nor Mrs. Severn. 
 I knew Marilyn cared, but I thought she didn't realize it 
 either, and I saw it was up to me. If she wasn't to have 
 to suffer by being parted from me when she grew older, I 
 must teach her not to care before she knew she cared. For 
 days I turned it over in my mind. Many nights I lay 
 
326 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 awake all night or walked out on the hills, threshing it 
 all over again. And I saw another thing. I saw that if it 
 was so hard for me then when I was not much more than 
 a kid it would be harder for her if Ilet her grow up caring, 
 and then we had to be parted, so I decided to make the 
 break. The day I made the decision I went off in the hills 
 and stayed all day thinking it out. And then I looked up 
 in the sky and told God I was done with Him. I had 
 prayed and prayed that He would make a way out of this 
 trouble for me, and He hadn^t done anything about it, and 
 I felt that He was against me too. So when I had done 
 that I felt utterly reckless. I didn't care what happened to 
 me, and I decided to go to the bad as fast as I could. I felt it 
 would be the best way too to make Marilyn get over being 
 fond of me. So I went down to Monopoly that night and 
 looked up a fellow that had been coaching the teams for a 
 while and was put out by the association because he was 
 rotten. He had always made a fuss over me, wanted to 
 make a big player out of me, and I knew he would be glad 
 to see me. 
 
 " He was. He took me out to supper that night and 
 gave me liquor to drink. You know I had never touched 
 a drop. Never had intended to as long as I lived. But 
 when he offered it to me I took it down as if I had been 
 used to it. I didn't care. I wanted to do all the wrong 
 I could. 
 
 " I drank again and again, and I must have got pretty 
 drunk. I remember the crowd laughed at me a great deal. 
 And they brought some girls around. It makes me sick to 
 think of it now. We went to a place and danced. I didn't 
 know how, but I danced anyway. And there was more 
 drinking. I don't remember things very distinctly. I did 
 whatever the coach said, and he had been going a pretty 
 good pace himself. — That night — !" His voice choked 
 with shame and it seemed as though he could not go on— ^ 
 
 I 
 
THE CITY OF FIRB 327 
 
 but the minister's clasp was steady and the boy gathered 
 courage and went on — " That night — we — ^went — to a 
 house of shame — ! " 
 
 He dropped his head and groaned. The minister did 
 not attempt to break the pause that followed. He knew 
 the struggle that was going on in the bitterness of the 
 yoimg man's soul. He maintained that steady hand clasp : 
 
 " In the morning — ^when I came to myself — " he went 
 on " I knew what I had done. I had cut myself off forever 
 from all that made life worth while. I would never be 
 worthy again to even speak to you all whom I loved so 
 much. I would never be able to look myself in the face 
 again even. I was ashamed. I had given up God and love, 
 and everything worth while. 
 
 " That was when I went away to New York. Mother 
 tried to stop me, but I would go. I tried when I got to 
 New York to plunge into a wild life, but it didn't attract 
 me. I had to force myself. Besides, I had resolved that 
 whatever came, wherever I went I would not drink and I 
 would keep clean. I thought that by so doing I might in 
 time at least win back my self respect. Later I conceived 
 the idea of trying to save others from a life of shame. I 
 did succeed in helping some to better ways I think, both 
 men and girls. But I only won a worse reputation at home 
 for it, and I'm not sure I did much good. I only know I 
 walked in hell from morning to night, and in time I came 
 to dwell among lost souls. It seemed the only place that 
 I belonged. 
 
 " You remember when you read us Dante * Thou who 
 through the City of Fire alive art passing' ? You used tG 
 preach in church about beginning the eternal life now, and 
 making a Httle heaven below, I'm sure that is as true of 
 hell. I began my eternal life five years ago, but it was in 
 hell, and I shall go on living in that fire of torture forever, 
 apart from all I love. I tried to get out by doing good to 
 
328 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 others, but it was of no avail. I thought never to tell you 
 this, but something made me, after you — you gave your 
 Hfe forme — !" 
 
 " And had you forgotten," said the minister tenderly, 
 " That the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us 
 from all sin? And that he said, * Come now and let us 
 reason together. Though your sins be as scarlet they shall 
 be as white as snow ? * " 
 
 " I gave up all right to that when I gave up God on 
 the mountain." 
 
 ** But God did not give up you," said the minister. 
 " Do you think a true father would cast out a child because 
 it got angry and shook its fist in his face ? You will find 
 Him again when you search for Him with all your heart. 
 You have told Him you were sorry, and He has promised 
 to forgive. You can't save yourself, but He can save you. 
 Now, son, go and tell Marilyn everything." 
 
 " Do you mean it, — Father? " 
 
 " I mean it — Son, The doctor is coming by and by to 
 take off these bandages, and I want the first thing that my 
 eyes rest upon after my dear wife's face, to be the faces 
 of you two. My beloved children." 
 
 Sabbath Valley lay tucked warm and white beneatH a 
 blanket of snow. All the week it had been coming down, 
 down, in great white flakes of especially sorted sizes, filling 
 the air mightily with winter clean and deep. Here in the 
 fastnesses of the hills it seemed that the treasure troves of 
 the sky had been opened to make all beautiful and quiet 
 while winter passed that way. Lone Valley was almost 
 obliterated, pierced with sharp pine trees in bunches here 
 and there, like a flock of pins in a pincushion, and the hills 
 rose gently on either side like a vast amphitheatre done in 
 white and peopled thick with trees in heavy white furs. 
 
 The Highway was almost impassable for a day or two, 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 329 
 
 but the state snow plow passed over as soon as the snow 
 stopped falling, and left a white pavement with white walls 
 either side. The tunnel through the mountains was only 
 a black dot in the vast whiteness, and Pleasant View Sta- 
 tion wore a heavy cap of snow dripping down in lavish 
 fringes edged with icicles. The agent's little shanty up 
 the mountain was buried out of sight behind a snow drift 
 and had to be dug out from the back, and no Lake Train 
 ran any more. The express was five hours late. Stark 
 Mountain loomed white against the sky. And over in 
 Sabbath Valley the night it stopped snowing all the vil- 
 lagers were out shovelling their walks and calling glad 
 nothings back and forth as they flung the white star dust 
 from their shovels, and little children came out with rubber 
 boots and warm leggings and wallowed in the beauty. The 
 milkman got out an old sleigh and strung a line of bells 
 around his horse. The boys and girls hurried up the 
 mountain to their slide with home made sleds and laughing 
 voices, and the moon came up looking sweetly from a sud- 
 den clearing sky. 
 
 Over in the church the windows shone with light, 
 and the bells were ringing out the old sweet songs the 
 villagers loved. Marilyn was at the organ and Mark 
 by her side. In the body of the church willing hands 
 were working, setting up the tall hemlocks that Tom and 
 Jim had brought in from the mountain, till the little church 
 was fragrant and literally lined with lacey beauty, remind- 
 ing one of ancient worship in the woods. Holly wreaths 
 were hanging in the windows everywhere, and ropes of 
 ground pine and laurel festooned from every pillar and 
 comer and peak of roof. 
 
 Laurie Shafton had sent a great coffer of wonderful 
 roses, and the country girls were handling them with awe, 
 banking them round the pulpit, and trailing them over the 
 
S30 THE CITY OF FIRE 
 
 rail of the little choir loft, wonderful roses from another 
 world, the world that Marilyn Severn might have married 
 into if she had chosen. And there sat Marilyn as indif- 
 ferent as if they were dandelions, praising the trees that 
 had been set up, delighting in their slender tops that rose 
 like miniature spires all round the wall, drawing in the 
 sweetness of their winter spicy breath, and never saying a 
 word about the roses. " Roses? Oh, yes, they look all 
 right. Girls, just put them wherever you fancy. I'll be 
 suited. But aren't those trees too beautiful for words? " 
 
 When the work was done they trooped out noisily into 
 the moonlight, bright like day only with a beauty that was 
 almost unearthly in its radiance. The others went on down 
 the street calling gay words back and forth, but Mark and 
 Marilyn lingered, bearing a wreath of laurel, and stepping 
 deep into the whiteness went over to the white piled mound 
 where they had laid Mrs. Carter's body to rest and Mark 
 stooped down and pressed the wreath down into the snow 
 upon the top: 
 
 " Dear little mother," he said brokenly, " She loved 
 pretty things and I meant to give her so many of them 
 sometime to make up — " 
 
 *' But she'll be glad—" said Marilyn softly, " We loved 
 each other very much — ! " 
 
 " Yes, she'll be glad ! " he answered. " She often tried 
 to find out why I never went to the parsonage any more. 
 Poor little mother! That was her deepest disappoint- 
 ment — ! Yes, she'll be glad — ! " 
 
 When morning came it seemed as though the very 
 glory of God was spread forth on Sabbath Valley for dis- 
 play. There it lay, a shining gem of a little white town, 
 in the white velvet cup of the Valley, dazzling and 
 i-esplendent, the hills rising round about reflecting more 
 brightness and etched with fringes of fine branches each 
 
THE CITY OF FUtE 8S1 
 
 burdened with a line of heavy furry white. Against the 
 clear blue sky the bell tower rose, and from its arches the 
 bells ^ng forth a wedding song. Marilyn in her white 
 robes, with a long white veil of rare old lace handed down 
 through the generations, falling down the back and 
 fastened about her forehead, and with a slim little rope of 
 pearls, also an heirloom, was ringing her own wedding 
 bells, with Mark by her side, while the villagers gathered 
 outside the door waiting for the wedding march to begin 
 before they came in. 
 
 The minister and his wife stood back in his little study 
 behind the pulpit, watching their two with loving eyes, and 
 down by the front door stood Billy in a new suit with his 
 hair very wet and Hcked back from an almost crimson 
 countenance, waiting the word to fling open the door and 
 let the congregation in. 
 
 " Turn, diddyc/ww — Diddydum — diddyc?Mi« — ^Diddy- 
 dum — diddydum — Diddydum — ► dum — dum — Dum 
 • — Dum — Dum ! " began the organ and Billy flung the 
 portals wide and stood aside on the steps to let the 
 throng pass in, his eyes shining as if they would say, " Aw 
 Gee! AinT this great?" 
 
 And just at that moment, wallowing through the snow, 
 with the air of having come from the North Pole there 
 arrived a great car and drew up to the door, and Laurie 
 Shaft on jumped anxiously out and flung open the door 
 for his passengers. 
 
 "Aw Gee! That Fish! Whadde wantta come here 
 for? The great chump! Don't he know he ain't in it? " 
 
 Billy watched in lofty scorn from his high step and 
 decided to hurry in and not have to show any honors to 
 that sissy-guy. 
 
 Then out from the car issued Opal, done in furs from 
 brow to shoe and looking eagerly about her, and following 
 her a big handsome sporty man almost twice her age. 
 
332 THE CrrY OF FERE 
 
 looking curiously interested, as if he had come to a shrine 
 to worship, Opal's husband. Billy stared, and then re- 
 membering that the wedding march was almost over and 
 that he might be missing something: 
 
 " Aw, Gee ! Whadduw I care ? He ain't little apples 
 now, anyhow. He couldn'ta bought her with barrels of 
 roses, an' he knows it too, the poor stiff. He must be a 
 pretty good scout after all, takin' his medicine straight! " 
 
 Then Billy slid in and the quiet little ceremony began. 
 
 The organ hushed into nothing. Marilyn arose, took 
 Mark's arm, and together they stepped down and stood in 
 front of the minister, who had come down the steps of the 
 pulpit and was awaiting them, with Marilyn's mother sit- 
 ting only a step away on the front seat. 
 
 It was all so quiet and homey, without fuss or march- 
 ing or any such thing, and when the ceremony was over 
 the bride and groom turned about in front of the bank of 
 hemlock and roses and their friends swarmed up to con- 
 gratulate them. Then everybody went into the parsonage, 
 where the ladies of the church had prepared a real country 
 wedding breakfast with Christmas turkey and fixings for 
 a foundation and going on from that. It wasn't every day 
 in the year that Sabbath Valley got its minister's daughter 
 married, and what if the parsonage was small and only 
 fifty could sit down at once, everybody was patient, and 
 it was all the more fun ! 
 
 The three guests from out of town, self imposed, 
 looked on with wonder and interest. It was a revelation. 
 Marilyn looked up and found big Ed Verrons frankly 
 staring at her, a puzzled pleased expression on his large 
 coarse face. She was half annoyed and wondered why 
 they had come to spoil this perfect day. Then suddenly the 
 big man stepped across the little living room and spoke : 
 
 " Mrs. Carter, we came over to-day because Opal said 
 you had something that would help us begin over again and 
 
THE CITY OF FIRE 83S 
 
 make life more of a success. I want to thank you for 
 having this chance to see a little bit of heaven on earth 
 before I die." 
 
 Later, when the city guests were fed and comforted 
 perhaps, and had climbed back into the big car, Billy stood 
 on the front porch with a third helping of ice cream and 
 watched them back, and turn, and wallow away into the 
 deep white world, and his heart was touched with pity : 
 
 " Aw, Gee ! The poor fish ! I 'spose it is hard lines ! 
 And then it was sorta my faultchu know," and he turned 
 with a joyful sigh that they were gone, and went in to look 
 again at Mary Louise Little, and see what it was about her 
 in that new blue challis that made her look so sorta 
 nice to-day. 
 
"The Booh You Like to Read 
 cd the Price You Like to Pay" 
 
 There Are Two Sides 
 to Everything — 
 
 — including the wrapper which covers 
 every Grosset & Dunlap book. When 
 you feel in the mood for a good ro- 
 mance, refer to the carefully selected list 
 of modern fiction comprising most of 
 the successes by prominent writers of 
 the day which is printed on the back of 
 every Grosset & Dunlap book wrapper. 
 
 You will find more than five hundred 
 titles to choose from — books for every 
 mood and every taste and every pocket- 
 book. 
 
 Don't forget the other side, but in case 
 the ivrapper is lost, write to the publishers 
 for a complete catalog. 
 
 There w a Crouet Cd Dunlap Book 
 for eoerj rrtood and for every taste 
 
14 DAY USE 
 
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 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books arc 
 
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 LD 21A-50w-12,'60 
 (B6221sl0)476B 
 
 General Library 
 
 University of California 
 
 Berkeley 
 
yB 3294 
 

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